I mentioned in my last post how incredibly satisfying it was to read through the two Mozart piano quartets earlier this week. I sometimes find myself so consumed with postmodern angst about the role/purpose/relevance of classical music, it's nice just to forget all that and remember why I love music. So, I'm thinking of starting a "music that makes me happy" series to remind myself of how I got myself into this life.
Today's installment: listening to my daughter's Saturday morning orchestra rehearse the Contrapunctus #1 from Bach's Art of Fugue. It is music that could fairly be described as severely austere - like watching mathematical equations come to life, as I suggested to one of my classes the other day. And yet, beautiful in the most elemental, honest, unmanipulative way. (Not that I have anything against manipulative beauty, Messrs. Tchaikovsky, Puccini, etc.) It's not easy music to count, so I had Daughter of MMmusing playing along with the Emerson String Quartet the last few days - that seems to be paying off as she's holding her own quite well on the stage down below me, while I sit and type. Of course, the Emerson guys sound terrific - you can see a bit of their take on that fugue here - but there's something extra remarkable about seeing thirty-something 9-14 year olds putting it together. Or, to suggest something more extreme, I found it really beautiful listening to DoMM playing along with the Emersons.
Speaking of youth and Bach and extramusical reasons for loving the purest of musical creations, here's my favorite online video of the Bach Double, my favorite-ever piece of music. There are more musicologically authentic online versions, but the one below reminds me of all those formative experiences I had hearing my sisters play the Bach Double with massed violins at Suzuki workshops here and there. This is as good as it gets.
UPDATE: This, also, isn't so bad:
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Thursday, October 2, 2008
The Doctor is Out - and I'm back (?)
So, now that The Doctor is behind me, it's time to see about reviving this poor blog. I recently read the following advice to bloggers from ArtsJournal's Douglas McLennan: "Mostly, though, I tell them that the way to get the biggest audience is to post as often as possible and to be consistent about it. If you post every day and then suddenly skip a week, you lose most of your readership. But you can post once a month and if you're consistent, you'll capture a set of readers. The big numbers though, go to bloggers who post often." Eeeek! It feels like he's pointing straight at me - except that, of course, he will never have heard of my blog and I tend to substitute "two weeks" for "skip a week." But, I really shouldn't get started back by blogging about blogging.
On the other hand, life is still too busy to put together something long and organized. How about long and disorganized?
For anyone who may be wondering, the shows went well and seemed to be successful in all the important ways. My arms didn't fall off, in spite of my 'once-every-three-years' conducting schedule. The students did well. We had good crowds. I'd like to attribute the good crowds to my innovative little production website, but it never got as much attention as I'd hoped it would. I still believe it's a pretty cool site, and that it suggests a potentially unintimidating way to introduce a work to an audience, but maybe the karaoke idea is too kooky, or maybe just not enough people ever saw it. (Or maybe it was just badly done.)
There is a danger with such a site of making people feel like they need to do "homework" before going out to be entertained. It's really a Catch-22: on the one hand, I want to acknowledge that opera is enough outside of the common experience that some pre-show preparatory experiences could be useful; on the other hand, this idea might suggest to people that enjoying an opera is work, and who wants to work at being entertained? At any rate, I think our good-sized audiences had more to do with the social-networking wonders of Facebook than they did with my animated singalongs, but I'm far from having set my last axe dancing.
It is, of course, a letdown to find myself in post-show mode. The last few weeks were round-the-clock experiences, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Besides, a big upcoming event always provides a good way to avoid doing more mundane things like cleaning my office, grading, mowing the lawn, practicing the piano, eating. The good news is, I can always find a way to keep putting most of those things off.
Tuesday night I had the pleasure of going out with the wife for an evening of chamber music - piano quartets specifically. We read both Mozart piano quartets and the Brahms C Minor piano quartet, which is one of my favorite-ever pieces. However, the Brahms really felt like a bit of a grind since we were all sightreading and it's quite dense. On the other hand, the Mozart quartets were sheer delight, and a good reminder of why I became a musician in the first place. They are such merry little pieces, with surprises and deft touches around every corner - and they also reminded me of how much such music (unlike the Brahms) is probably at its best in this sort of social, low-pressure, sight-reading situation. I'm sure I'd prefer an evening of sightreading these pieces to hearing some slick group of professionals perform them. So, part of me wants to go into more detail about what makes the music so great, but the wiser and lazier part of me is satisfied for now to think happily about the experience without too much actual thinking about it.
The other enjoyable diversion of the week came about quite unexpectedly. I was asked to help out creating a quick-fix interim soundtrack for a little documentary video. I'd rather not give any more precise details, but it has been a fascinating experience. In this case, I'm not composing anything, but rather looking for available music that suits the video well. (Copyright isn't really an issue, because the version I'm helping with won't be sold and will probably just be shown once or twice in non-commercial settings.) So many interesting questions arise about how music functions - aside from the whole music-as-background issue, which doesn't really bother me at all, there's the sleight-of-hand ways in which music can create a context through a viewer's built-in associations about that music, regardless of what the music may have been intended to do. It also makes me challenge my own ideas about taste, etc. when considering what will work best for an intended audience. It's a kind of experience that I think every music student should have - maybe even more important than memorizing the K. numbers for all the Mozart piano concerti. (Which is good, because all those K numbers are starting to run together for me.)
Setting up that last little hyperlink reminds me that it's time to do some MMhousekeeping. There are many multimedia creations that haven't made it into the Multimedia Musing Machine yet, for example. So, that should give me something to get back into the blogging game, not to mention a thousand posts that I've written quite eloquently - in my imagination. Let's see, I still want to tackle the music appreciation question that came up here. I had all the answers a few weeks ago - I wonder if I still do. I also will likely have some more post-Doctoral musing to do, including some thoughts about our paperless programs and the laptop that almost let me down. But for now, back to grading . . . or whatever else I can come up with.
On the other hand, life is still too busy to put together something long and organized. How about long and disorganized?
For anyone who may be wondering, the shows went well and seemed to be successful in all the important ways. My arms didn't fall off, in spite of my 'once-every-three-years' conducting schedule. The students did well. We had good crowds. I'd like to attribute the good crowds to my innovative little production website, but it never got as much attention as I'd hoped it would. I still believe it's a pretty cool site, and that it suggests a potentially unintimidating way to introduce a work to an audience, but maybe the karaoke idea is too kooky, or maybe just not enough people ever saw it. (Or maybe it was just badly done.)
There is a danger with such a site of making people feel like they need to do "homework" before going out to be entertained. It's really a Catch-22: on the one hand, I want to acknowledge that opera is enough outside of the common experience that some pre-show preparatory experiences could be useful; on the other hand, this idea might suggest to people that enjoying an opera is work, and who wants to work at being entertained? At any rate, I think our good-sized audiences had more to do with the social-networking wonders of Facebook than they did with my animated singalongs, but I'm far from having set my last axe dancing.
It is, of course, a letdown to find myself in post-show mode. The last few weeks were round-the-clock experiences, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Besides, a big upcoming event always provides a good way to avoid doing more mundane things like cleaning my office, grading, mowing the lawn, practicing the piano, eating. The good news is, I can always find a way to keep putting most of those things off.
Tuesday night I had the pleasure of going out with the wife for an evening of chamber music - piano quartets specifically. We read both Mozart piano quartets and the Brahms C Minor piano quartet, which is one of my favorite-ever pieces. However, the Brahms really felt like a bit of a grind since we were all sightreading and it's quite dense. On the other hand, the Mozart quartets were sheer delight, and a good reminder of why I became a musician in the first place. They are such merry little pieces, with surprises and deft touches around every corner - and they also reminded me of how much such music (unlike the Brahms) is probably at its best in this sort of social, low-pressure, sight-reading situation. I'm sure I'd prefer an evening of sightreading these pieces to hearing some slick group of professionals perform them. So, part of me wants to go into more detail about what makes the music so great, but the wiser and lazier part of me is satisfied for now to think happily about the experience without too much actual thinking about it.
The other enjoyable diversion of the week came about quite unexpectedly. I was asked to help out creating a quick-fix interim soundtrack for a little documentary video. I'd rather not give any more precise details, but it has been a fascinating experience. In this case, I'm not composing anything, but rather looking for available music that suits the video well. (Copyright isn't really an issue, because the version I'm helping with won't be sold and will probably just be shown once or twice in non-commercial settings.) So many interesting questions arise about how music functions - aside from the whole music-as-background issue, which doesn't really bother me at all, there's the sleight-of-hand ways in which music can create a context through a viewer's built-in associations about that music, regardless of what the music may have been intended to do. It also makes me challenge my own ideas about taste, etc. when considering what will work best for an intended audience. It's a kind of experience that I think every music student should have - maybe even more important than memorizing the K. numbers for all the Mozart piano concerti. (Which is good, because all those K numbers are starting to run together for me.)
Setting up that last little hyperlink reminds me that it's time to do some MMhousekeeping. There are many multimedia creations that haven't made it into the Multimedia Musing Machine yet, for example. So, that should give me something to get back into the blogging game, not to mention a thousand posts that I've written quite eloquently - in my imagination. Let's see, I still want to tackle the music appreciation question that came up here. I had all the answers a few weeks ago - I wonder if I still do. I also will likely have some more post-Doctoral musing to do, including some thoughts about our paperless programs and the laptop that almost let me down. But for now, back to grading . . . or whatever else I can come up with.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
I don't really own a monogrammed shirt...
An unexpected perk of non-stop weekend rehearsals: One of the chorus guys (D.E.A.) spontaneously created this caricature of me on the big white board in the lecture hall that we're "converting" into a theater. I think it's a pretty good likeness, although I'm not sure if I'm conducting or executing some sort of dance move. That's interesting because I'm about as experienced as a conductor as I am as a dancer. Anyway, this is pretty much what I look like when I'm not in Springfield.There are also some more photo-realistic pictures of the rehearsal process over at the Doctor blog - we're T minus 4 and counting.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Doctor Karaoke #6: Music is the Master of all Medicine
One of my favorite of the unlikely rhymes in my Doctor translation is the first one in the chorus below. This music is sung by a group of musical healers who are brought in by the "doctor" to help cure the poor, mute Lucinde. I'm running off to rehearsal, but you can read a bit more about it here.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Happy Anniversary, Doctor!
So, I was driving up to school this morning, thinking about a presentation I was going to be giving to a large class (about 150 students) - a presentation, you'll be shocked to hear, about The Doctor in Spite of Himself. As I drove, I thought to myself I should mention how long ago it was written. I knew it was premiered in 1858, so after doing the math I suddenly realized we've got a Sesquicentennial on our hands! I don't know why this hadn't occurred to me sooner. That could've been the hook to get international media attention. It's too late to make much use of this information now, but I'm definitely going to plan another production for 2058, and I'll be ready to take full advantage of the coincidence of earthly orbit and digital numerology.
Anyway, we're entering the frantic homestretch, so my blogging continues to be Doctor-focused. Speaking of which, a synopsis is now available over at the Doctor Blog. As part of the "green" emphasis associated with the opening of our new Science Center, we're not going to be printing programs for these performance. All the relevant info (cast, synopsis, orchestra members, etc.) will be projected before the show, during the Overture and Entr'Acte, and during Intermission. Still, here's your chance to get the story straight before coming to the performances. And they're free and sure to be delightfully entertaining, so why wouldn't you be coming?
FUN STORY: Since we're performing in a brand-new Science Center auditorium that isn't really designed for theatrical productions, I had a meeting with one of our Physical Plant directors yesterday to talk about storage space, dressing rooms, etc. Mark, the guy I was meeting with, was being quite helpful, and we'd already settled on some perfect storage options for setpieces, chairs, stands, etc. We were trying to resolve the more complicated dressing room issue when Jim, another Physical Plant-er who I didn't know, happened by and said to Mark, "Is this Mike?" We answered affirmatively (although, technically, I strongly prefer Michael) and Jim said, "Yeah, I'm supposed to meet with you. I can take over from here." Mark thought this sounded great since Jim apparently knows the building much better.
So, I follow Jim down the hall and he takes me first into a women's restroom. "OK," I'm thinking, "he's going to show me what this room offers as a dressing room option." We go in and he starts complaining about how the contractor has messed up several details. Interesting enough, although the nature of the tile doesn't have much to do with my situation. Before I know what's happening, I'm getting a very detailed description of how the grout is the wrong color, not filled in properly, etc, at which point I finally think to ask just who he thinks I am. "You're the contractor, right?" From there, it was just good laughs all around - anyone who knows me well will get a special kick out of the idea that I might be mistaken for a contractor (this is all I know about Grout), although I have contracted my own orchestra for the show, mostly by strong-arming students. That sounds kind of like what contractors do. Even scarier is that I'll be conducting that orchestra, but that's a story for another day...
Anyway, we're entering the frantic homestretch, so my blogging continues to be Doctor-focused. Speaking of which, a synopsis is now available over at the Doctor Blog. As part of the "green" emphasis associated with the opening of our new Science Center, we're not going to be printing programs for these performance. All the relevant info (cast, synopsis, orchestra members, etc.) will be projected before the show, during the Overture and Entr'Acte, and during Intermission. Still, here's your chance to get the story straight before coming to the performances. And they're free and sure to be delightfully entertaining, so why wouldn't you be coming?
FUN STORY: Since we're performing in a brand-new Science Center auditorium that isn't really designed for theatrical productions, I had a meeting with one of our Physical Plant directors yesterday to talk about storage space, dressing rooms, etc. Mark, the guy I was meeting with, was being quite helpful, and we'd already settled on some perfect storage options for setpieces, chairs, stands, etc. We were trying to resolve the more complicated dressing room issue when Jim, another Physical Plant-er who I didn't know, happened by and said to Mark, "Is this Mike?" We answered affirmatively (although, technically, I strongly prefer Michael) and Jim said, "Yeah, I'm supposed to meet with you. I can take over from here." Mark thought this sounded great since Jim apparently knows the building much better.
So, I follow Jim down the hall and he takes me first into a women's restroom. "OK," I'm thinking, "he's going to show me what this room offers as a dressing room option." We go in and he starts complaining about how the contractor has messed up several details. Interesting enough, although the nature of the tile doesn't have much to do with my situation. Before I know what's happening, I'm getting a very detailed description of how the grout is the wrong color, not filled in properly, etc, at which point I finally think to ask just who he thinks I am. "You're the contractor, right?" From there, it was just good laughs all around - anyone who knows me well will get a special kick out of the idea that I might be mistaken for a contractor (this is all I know about Grout), although I have contracted my own orchestra for the show, mostly by strong-arming students. That sounds kind of like what contractors do. Even scarier is that I'll be conducting that orchestra, but that's a story for another day...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
