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Until September - 8/17/07
Hope for the Next Generation - 8/17/07
Two New Additions to Two Different Families - 8/13/07
Octave Singing - 8/02/07
What's That Bug? - 7/24/07
New Director @ New York Philharmonic - 7/18/07
Speaking Freely - 7/14/07
Have a Listen, or Four - 5/05/07
Amusing - 5/04/07
Seems Like Everyone's Got a New Website These Days - 5/04/07
By Any Standard, This Is Astonishing - 5/03/07
Nico's New Website - 4/27/07
Sanneh on Hip Hop and the Imus Controversy - 4/25/07
Cold Up Here - 4/14/07
Imus in the Evening - 4/13/07
Kurt Vonnegut, 1922-2007 - 4/13/07
Spring Holiday Greetings - 4/09/07
Tonic - 4/04/07
Birds - 3/22/07
Lenny - 3/19/07
New to America? This Should Help Fill You In - 2/22/07
Steve Jobs Is Either Smart or Merely Cool - 2/08/07
What??? - 1/12/07
January Is International Month For Me - 1/12/07
Sacrifice - 1/03/07
Inland Empire - 12/29/06
Is This a Joke? - 12/24/06
What I've Been Doing - 12/15/06
I'm Going to Write About This But Not Now - 11/14/06
See Ya' - 11/08/06
Followup to the Note on Misspellings - 10/25/06
A Note on Misspellings - 10/18/06
This Is Why I Do My Own PR - 10/16/06
Last Night's Concert; Krugman - 10/13/06
We Are Not Alone - 10/06/06
A Cartoon - 10/04/06
S.3930 - 09/30/06
What's Going On These Next Few Weeks - 09/27/06
Getting Up, Getting Down - 09/06/06
PAST POSTS Fall 2004 - Summer 2005
PAST POSTS Fall 2005 - Summer 2006
PAST POSTS Fall 2007 - Summer 2008
PAST POSTS Fall 2008 - the end of 2009
CURRENT RAMBLINGS (WHY)
Until September - 8/17/07

I am leaving town today, going to Vermont for a couple of weeks in order to (as Bill put it) "charge up the batteries" for the year to come. And it's going to be a crazy year, with a fair amount (for me) of traveling, serving as punctuation for the ramped-up community push here in New York. NOW will have a new album, a new website, a new bass player; VIM will have a new season (mostly decided, but not well-publicized yet); and New Amsterdam Records will take on a different, more broad-minded and exciting character. And then there's the band. But all this will have to wait; I need to go get some juice in my battery and the place I'm going is the best place for me to do it.
I had intended to write an essay about "use" for the reader that we bring up to the hills each summer (and would have posted it here), but I got too ambitious and, as usual, was unable to finish because I bit off more than I could chew. The short version: music, I think, needs to be seen as something to be used, and not as an abstract entity. More provocatively, I think that considerations about how we might want our music to be used raise questions about the kind of music we write. My essay started with Satie's Furniture Music and went from there; I'll try to say something intelligent on the subject when I return, having run my half-baked ideas by some very smart and creative people, and thereby perhaps baking them a little more thoroughly. By then, I hope to have some new ways of getting those ideas to more people, and thereby helping me to refine my thoughts and share ideas with others. It's going to be a good year!
Until September, be well.
8/17/07
Hope for the Next Generation - 8/17/07
Overheard while walking down the street in Cobble Hill during a lightning storm: two young teenage boys, maybe 13 or 14 years old, doing their best Christopher Lloyd impressions, as Doc Brown in Back to the Future - "Marty!", "1.21 gigawatts!", and so on. For some reason, this makes me incredibly happy.
8/17/07
Two New Additions to Two Different Families - 8/13/07
I met my new cousin today...no new pictures but it was a sweet event, with lots of family and love in the room. My cousins had been trying to have a baby for a long time, so this was very welcome and we are all very excited. It's the first masculine child in a while to make an appearance on that side of the family; this would be a bigger deal in some families, where I would probably still be singing the Four Questions, but it's still something unusual and almost unique for me in a very female-centered family. I'm so happy for my cousins and I'm very excited to get to know this new little shorty as he becomes a real person!
I also welcomed a new addition to my personal, musical family - a Juno-6 synthesizer. This is easily the most fun thing I have ever owned, at least since I understood how to play with real toys. The Juno is an amazing combination of serious functionality and total ease of use. I've never had an analog synth before, and this is a great one with which to start. There are an infinitude of sounds to explore, and when I find a setting that I like, it's as if I have come across an oasis, driving my caravan blind through the desert. Anything good is transient, as well, since there's no "save" function and certainly no presets. I suppose I could write down all the knob settings, but for now, I'm happy to wander. I knew it was a good purchase when I saw how much fun Steve was having - and he's not even a musician. Missy and Steve and I were having a ball just putting the headphones on and finding cool sounds, then passing the headphones around. I'm bringing my amp to the new apartment tomorrow; look out neighbors!
8/13/07
Octave Singing - 8/02/07
Before we get started, let me just say that this is totally spot-on, and targets a constant liberal-hypocrisy issue. Everyone I know is conscious of environmental health and yet drinks tons of bottled water. It needs to stop!
I heard a really great show last week. It was my friend Amber Papini, who I'd never heard play live before. Nathan was unfortunately indisposed on a family emergency, but the show was still really lovely (that's the only word for it), with Amber singing songs as her band surrounded her in totally tasteful and musical ways. One of those ways was to sing the melodies she sang, sometimes, with her, and that meant (because of the mixed-gender band) that the melodies were being sung at different octaves. I realized, when I heard this, that much of my favorite vocal music, at least among music with multiple voices involved, has this feature. I can think of a few examples right off the bat, besides Amber's quasi-folk style: Fela Kuti's band, when they sing, sings in octaves; British 20th century choral music almost always has passages of mixed-voice unison (octave) singing; TV on the Radio usually has two voices singing, one male in a tenor range, the other in a high falsetto. All these are totally great, and tied together by that one feature. Plenty of folk styles have this quality, too, as does any sing-along, which is probably a more "authentic" approach to many folk styles that we now treat as concert music.
Strangely, my own choral music has not really exploited this technique to any great extent. Not that you'd know, since I haven't yet posted a recording of Lamenting, but that will come.
8/02/07
What's That Bug? - 7/24/07
I can't even get over how good this site is. It has everything I want from the Internet - information, photos, a community-friendly vibe, and a sense of humor. I have, in the past hour, gone from "knowing" I had silverfish to actually knowing that I have some house centipedes, and from worrying sick that the little thing I found in my room might be a bedbug (!) to being 90% sure that we have a small carpet beetle problem. Not too bad, all things considered.
This is a site that makes me really happy - as I said to them in a thank-you letter, the site "is also a public service, for both the human and insect publics", because I will stop worrying as much, and I will also stop killing everything I see! Growing up in New York City, the idea of a "good bug" is hard to handle, and now that I'm back here, I remember why. It's perfectly rational, really. Not elsewhere, but in cities, I maintain that it is quite rational to assume bad intentions from bugs in your house. Most insects that I encounter are trying to A) eat my food, B) eat me, or C) eat my belongings. None of these are good, at all. But there's also D) eat other bugs, which is why I never (ok, rarely) kill spiders, and now am learning to be a fan of the house centipede, which apparently eats all manner of baddy in my house. I definitely killed one of those in the bathtub, sadly, and found another dead one in my foyer. I thought it was an "infestation", but now I realize that they were on my team, and were probably munching on the real problems - those beetles, and the actual silverfish I've seen, and of course, the roaches.
About those - things are not so bad in this apartment, especially since Sean helped me caulk and foam and steel wool for an afternoon. (Thanks, Sean!) I have had some bad encounters with some very aggressive American cockroaches, but I haven't seen a German roach this week, which makes me feel like the hard work has paid off - for now. I will look forward to getting my reenforcement teammates (#1 and #2 and eventually, #3) back in action, to help win this battle. Now I know, though, that I am not alone in the house - the centipedes are there, with me, in the struggle!
Thank you, whatsthatbug.com!
7/24/07
New Director @ New York Philharmonic - 7/18/07
Alan Gilbert has been named the new music director of the New York Philharmonic. That's great, great news, and I say this as a long-time Philharmonic supporter. I attended the Young People's Concerts when I was a kid, and later (in high school) was a frequent visitor to Avery Fisher for concerts and rehearsals. I interned with the orchestra when I was 17, and went to weekly closed rehearsals (as well as dozens and dozens of concerts), gaining immeasurable knowledge about the workings of the ensemble and its individual parts. I owe the orchestra a great debt of gratitude and am thrilled to see it moving in such a positive direction.
Despite the excellent decision, how important it is, in the scheme of the New York music scene, remains to be seen. Anthony Tommasini writes, "Some of the Philharmonic's more traditional concertgoers may also have to adjust. Those who expect the music director of the Philharmonic to perform a cycle of Beethoven symphonies that will enter the annals of music history may be disappointed. But if Mr. Gilbert can liberate himself from such lofty expectations, he should be able to attract new audiences and inspire the players to take some chances, have some fun, think outside the box." This almost certainly underestimates Gilbert - I doubt that he believes himself incapable of bringing such a cycle to life. More importantly, what kind of hierarchy is Mr. Tommasini suggesting, in which a great Beethoven cycle is a "lofty expectation", but such goals as audience building and "thinking outside the box" are treated as trivialities? I don't think, and sincerely don't hope, that the Philharmonic hired Mr. Gilbert to have a little fun with the orchestra. I hope they hired him to kick some ass and restore it to its rightful place of prominence in American music.
It's a tall task, especially in New York. The most successful orchestras in the country tend to either be the best classical show in town (Cleveland, Boston, Chicago, Philly, Washington, D.C., Saint Louis, and Baltimore come to mind, and there are no doubt many others), or they take a leadership role in the broader music community (L.A. for sure, and possibly San Francisco and Minnesota - though I'm not 100% sure about any besides L.A.). The New York Philharmonic will have a hard time doing either of these, without serious competition. You can't be the undisputedly best classical show in town when the Met is next door, and Carnegie brings top-notch programs from every great orchestra in the world on a regular basis, not to mention all the other amazing classical artists who visit that hall and others. As for being a leader, the NY music community is so vast and varied that this is another nearly-impossible task. The L.A. Phil puts on festivals and has its own chamber group devoted to new works. If the NY Phil did either of those things, they'd be one of many high-level festivals or ensembles in the city, and while they'd be welcome additions, I don't think that they would cause a particularly big splash.
So what can the orchestra do? I've written before about the need for the big cultural institutions in this great city to get off their butts and really reach out to the city's residents. I'm well aware that the Philharmonic and other ensembles do what they call "outreach", and some of these programs are definitely good things, but they are just the tip of the iceberg. If you are the New York Philharmonic, you can't sit in Lincoln Center and expect audiences to come to you, unless you go to them, first. And an occasional visit to Central Park does not count. To a too-great degree, the orchestra serves a very specific demographic of New York's population. If they want to really do something new, why not have regular concerts in (gasp!) all five boroughs of New York? New York is certainly an international city, and it's wonderful to celebrate this achievement, competing on the global stage as one of the world's greatest orchestras. But New York is also a living, breathing community of great diversity and a truly international constituency. Recognizing this leads to a possible vision of a much more exciting, much more revolutionary way to conceive of an orchestra - as a community orchestra for the entire New York community. This is no small feat, for a city of 8 million people. Only one organization has the clout and the budget to make this happen, and I believe it could happen without any real sacrifice to the other goals of the institution. I hope against all evidence that the Philharmonic moves in this direction.
7/18/07
Speaking Freely - 7/14/07
I think I am a little tired of thinking about aesthetic issues for the time being. This is the only conclusion I can draw from my current tongue-tied-ness, which is inappropriate for someone like me who A) likes to speak his mind, and B) likes to write those thoughts down in a public forum, and C) has recently been criticized for some statements and has seen some gross misrepresentations of his and others' positions and intentions. (And no, I'm not sure why I'm putting this all in the third person.) I have actually written quite a bit in the past week and a half, trying to figure out what I want to say, exactly, about the various responses I've seen and heard surrounding Free Speech Zone, and specifically, Steve Taylor's movie about our 2005 tour, The End of New Music, as well as Steve Smith's excellent New York Times article about the whole thing. Apparently, Steve Smith has also been hearing it from people.
I really like Steve Taylor's title to the film - "The End of New Music" - but it is probably the main reason that everyone is all upset. It's kind of provocative, and makes the film, or Free Speech Zone, sound like a manifesto or a manifesto-producing organization. I don't think that either is true. So - and this just scratches the surface of what I could write, and have tried to - I want to address two points that people have made, to clear some things up.
Point #1: Steve Taylor did not make this film at the request of me, Missy, or David. We did not really know what he was going to do with the footage he took, and neither (I think) did he. Originally, the footage turned into a short piece for a class he was taking. Later, he decided he wanted to flesh it out and turn it into a broader piece, examining some musicians engaging in an experience that was new for us - a point that I emphasize as a response to people who are asking what is "new" about what we in Free Speech Zone were doing. More on this in point #2. Anyway, it's true that Steve is an old friend of mine, and that he and Missy and I live together now, and that we're all making work together, but the fact remains that this was not meant to be a publicity stunt, a "vanity" project, or anything along those lines. Steve made a film that, to him, was interesting as a character study. What motivated us to try something new? How were our personal beliefs made manifest in an active musical context? What did we lose or gain? These are interesting questions, whether or not you think that our answers are right or wrong, interesting or uninteresting, or whether Steve did a good job of conveying those issues. His film is a work of art on its own, and I wish that more people in the new music community could see it that way, and understand that he wasn't making a movie for them, but for himself, from his own perspective.
That leads nicely to point #2: the statements that we all make in the film and in the article are meant to be understood as personal statements. If it is, indeed, the end of "new music", it's only the end of "new music" for me, personally. I even say that in the film, and in the start of the article - that a certain way of thinking about music is still relevant for some people. Do I want to critique that way of thinking? Maybe, but not in any simple way. I'm not saying that a certain kind of music is "bad" or "wrong". I only know that I can say the following, with certainty: I feel disconnected from a certain way of thinking about music. This has very little to do with the old lines - uptown or downtown or how many tones you use or any of that. With regard to those tired questions, I know that I have been caught up in them at various times, but I have really retreated from my absurdly hard-line stance about certain kinds of music; this personal transformation, if that's what it is, has been one of understanding that I do not need to worry about what other people are doing, or what they are saying about what I create. There's been a tendency for people who see themselves as carrying the torch for Western classical music to get up in arms, on one side or another, believing that the fate of society rests in their hands - making claims such as "Phillip Glass is the reason George W. Bush was elected President", as was said to me in the course of my education. (That's an example from the "other side of the line", but it all goes both ways, equally. The generalized form of any totalizing claim is revealed to be nonsensical when someone is attacking the things you like!) I admit, fully, to having bought in to that type of mindset in the past, but it's not where my head is at now, nor is it what I was talking about in the film.
What about now? What's the new critique? What's this "way of thinking" to which I keep alluding? I don't feel fully comfortable articulating a strong critique, because everything I've said is really about me, and what I want to do with my own music, and has recently been decidedly not proscriptive. I think that my critique is simply that too many questions about music and its relation to society go unasked and unanswered. The "way of thinking" that bothers me is one that presumes a certain ossified relationship, avoiding or dismissing those questions altogether. The tour, for me (and I think, for Missy and David), was about finding a use for music in the context of lives (our own) that had been disrupted by the impinging realities of our society. We asked, what does it mean to write music? How is our writing music intersecting with the type of people we want to be, the type of role we want to have in our community, and the type of world we want to live in? We set out to answer those questions - for ourselves - in the form of the tour, and the answers had ramifications for both the aesthetic quality of our music and in the kinds of spaces we favored. I don't think that the "world of new music", as I put it in the article, really asks those questions. I'm not suggesting that there's a single right answer to the questions, but I do believe that they need to be asked, and that in asking them, you almost necessarily wind up answering them, too. And they are the same kind of questions, I will somewhat provocatively add, that I believe we should ask ourselves as citizens and members of society, about whatever it is we do.
More than anything, to combine my two points, I would emphasize that the film was about us as people. The experience it depicts, of bringing a group on tour, playing in clubs, and generally doing-it-ourselves, is of course nothing new. [I will say, though, for the people who are emphasizing this point, that bringing 20 people on tour with no budget is a somewhat crazy thing to do, and not something that happens every day.] The important thing is that when we're talking to the cameras, or talking to Steve Smith, we're all speaking about our personal experiences, not trying to convince everyone else that they need to do what we do. The "end of new music", if that's what we're going to call it, happened for us as individuals, not for the wider musical world. Steve's title for the film is provocative, appropriate, and was no doubt helpful for publicity purposes, but it has made things difficult as it implies much less of a personal scope than any of us would have imagined when we were saying the things we said.
Many thanks to the people who actually saw the film, and to those people who had the guts to write me directly with their critiques. That is always welcome, to be sure. I'll have more to say on this in the coming week, I think, but it will hopefully be more forward-looking, and not responsive.
7/14/07
Have a Listen, or Four - 5/05/07
There are all kinds of new works up on my what page. Go check it out. I have a bad habit of doing unrelated work when I have a major deadline (in this case, an overdue piece - thus, the flurry of activity on this space), so I really cannot write about each of the new mp3s here, but there's lots to download if you're into that sort of thing. I'll write more when I have a chance, maybe on the train this afternoon.
5/05/07
Amusing - 5/04/07
I don't know what's going on with all this, but in checking out that situation, I came across the following amusing quote, from a blog post entitled "The Five Worst Musical Monumentations of 2006":
2. On the day he turned seventy, Steve Reich gave an odd lecture to so-called "post-minimalist" composers via NPR's Modern Mainstream program. He told the young composers, "I'm the one who made you, and I can also destroy you. If you don't believe that, just try me!" Reich then gave an extended account of his early (unpublished) writings and claimed that he invented stereophonic sound and that any composer who records music in stereo owes him royalties. After the radio broadcast, Reich mysteriously disappeared and was replaced with an impersonator.
Read the rest at Professor Heebie McJeebie's (?) satirical blog.
5/04/07
Seems Like Everyone's Got a New Website These Days - 5/04/07
My friend Morgan Packard, an excellent composer/producer/music-maker, has himself a spiffy new website, as well. I'm looking forward to hearing his new album. And then there's my old friend Kevin Hume, aka Black Spartacus, who has a new record label and a corresponding new website. Looks like a solo venture for the moment but I'm sure there will be more artists to come. Go listen to Morgan and Kevin's music!
Speaking of new websites, my own amazing web designer, Sam Solomon, is premiering a new work of mine on Sunday afternoon in Boston. Should be a great show - Sam is a ridiculously good player, the piece is cool, and there are other very good composers on the program. I have no idea if anyone in Boston reads this space, but if you do, come check it out.
By Any Standard, This Is Astonishing - 5/03/07
The Wall Street Journal has long been known for having one of the best News pages in the country, probably the best Financial section, and clearly the most outrageous editorial writers of any remotely mainstream publication. Today seals the deal, with the printing of this totally insane piece of writing by Harvey Mansfield. It's an essay that suggests that the American tradition, contrary to what we might believe based on all available evidence and common sense, is actually centered around the idea of a unitary executive with unbridled power. Did you know that? I didn't. Of course, that's been the assumption of many recent Republican leaders, using 9/11 as an excuse to refashion our democracy into an economic oligarchy centered around a military monarch. Glenn Greenwald, the excellent Salon columnists, writes incredibly well about this point, among other things related to the Mansfield piece. After this discussion, he adds the following coda:
Much of the intense dissatisfaction I have with the American media arises out of the fact that these extraordinary developments -- the dominant political movement advocating lawlessness and tyranny out in the open in The Wall St. Journal and Weekly Standard -- receive almost no attention.
While the Bush administration expressly adopts these theories to detain American citizens without charges, engage in domestic surveillance on Americans in clear violation of the laws we enacted to limit that power, and asserts a general right to disregard laws which interfere with the President's will, our media still barely discusses those issues.
They write about John Edwards' haircut and John Kerry's windsurfing and which political consultant has whispered what gossip to them about some painfully petty matter, but the extraordinary fact that our nation's dominant political movement is openly advocating the most radical theories of tyranny -- that "liberties are dangerous and law does not apply" -- is barely noticed by our most prestigious and self-loving national journalists. Merely to take note of that failure is to demonstrate how profoundly dysfunctional our political press is.
This is very well said. Where's the New York Times on this one? Not that I really give much of a damn what that paper thinks, but plenty of people do, and they do love to stick it to the WSJ when given the opportunity. But no, this isn't a "news story", so it floats on by. That's compelling, and disturbing, all at once.
For another take on the Mansfield piece, here's tristano, in a more punchy tone than Greenwald. It's not particularly satisfying to read something so insane given so much detailed attention, especially in light of Greenwald's point. If this were a national discussion about the Media and issues such as these, I'd be tuned in every night and writing my own novellas about what-I-think. But this is a backroom brawl. How do we get these issues out there?
5/03/07
Nico's New Website - 4/27/07
Go check it out. It's fancy and fabulous.
He also has an article in the Guardian (UK) about British Renaissance choral music and how that repertoire led to his becoming a composer. He contrasts that music to the Romantic pathos of, say, Beethoven, in this remarkably evocative paragraph:
By contrast, Byrd, Gibbons, Weelkes and Tye were like the dinner guests on whom you had crushes as a child, not because of any particular story they told, but because of the way they told those stories - the turns of phrase, the little obsessive details, the localised, rather than structural repetitions. The content of the stories could be in another language, but the little gestures - the musical equivalent of subtly tapping the table twice to reinforce a conclusion, smoothing out the tablecloth before the punchline of a joke, a well-timed sip of wine with eyebrows cocked - were the stars of the show, they were like the things you remember when people you love have changed, or moved away, or died.
Very well said. I don't share Nico's experience with coming to music, and British choral music was certainly not my way in, but I certainly recognize the memory that Nico eloquently describes, and feel the connection to my own past. I imagine that most readers will, too.
Read the whole article here.
4/27/07
Sanneh on Hip Hop and the Imus Controversy - 4/25/07
I like Kalefa Sanneh. As I've said here before, he writes criticism that actually gets into the music, and isn't afraid to knock down the mighty when he thinks they deserve it (see Black Thought, who probably didn't, and Busta Rhymes, who probably did).
That said, this article doesn't really say much. I bring it to the attention of this space because it summarizes the controversy that has sprung up from the "nappy-headed ho" remark made by Don Imus a couple of weeks ago, which I wrote about below. I said that Imus was certainly pulling that term from hip hop, and that critics of his language might do well to examine the source if they're interested in curbing misogyny. Sanneh doesn't really defend misogynistic lyrics in hip hop, but instead suggests that we shouldn't worry about them because hip hop doesn't really matter the way it once did. Or, maybe, he's saying that hip hop (and perhaps music, in general) doesn't really affect culture in the way that people tend to believe it does.
As someone who grew up with hip hop, I've been on the defending-hip hop side of the aisle for many years. In general, I think that most claims about music causing societal problems are ridiculous, and that those directed at hip hop tend to be fueled more by racism than anything else. I've heard enough stories from the past, including those of my dad's childhood in Brooklyn and then Long Island, where he would get chased down the street by bat-wielding gangs, sometimes in cars, to feel confident that the prevalence of youth violence is not tied to music, but to social conditions. Recent New Yorker articles have been filled with ridiculous suggestions that Heavy Metal was responsible for turning kids into terrorists and killers. That undercuts the racism argument, it's true, but is no less problematic.
With all this in mind, I maintain that it's irresponsible to look at Don Imus's comments outside of the context of an omnipresent hip hop culture that has introduced certain ways of describing Black women into the mainstream. I'm not attacking hip hop (please), and I'm not defending Imus (glad to see him go). I'm suggesting, surprise surprise, that things are more complicated than many would have us believe, and that a long look at hip hop and its societal effects (as well as, more importantly, the causes of the conditions that give rise to its problematic qualities) would be of great benefit. I wonder how the Rutgers team feels about the issue? Has anyone asked them?
This may be a topic to which I return at some point, but I have to get back to work.
4/25/07
Cold Up Here - 4/14/07
I'm in Williamstown for the performance, tonight, of Lamenting, and it's cold! There's snow everywhere and the skies are cloudly. A huge Nor'easter is predicted for Monday, when it may well decimate the Boston Marathon. Is this my Spring vacation?
I'm going to go burn some fuel in order to warm up this globe of ours.
4/14/07
Imus in the Evening - 4/13/07
I assume that most readers are familiar with the recent scandal involving radio shock-jock Don Imus, in which he characterized the Rutgers women's basketball team as "nappy-headed hos", among other things, and was subsequently accused of racism and finally fired this week. If not, you can go to Google and find plenty of commentary on the subject. I'm somewhat fascinated with the whole scandal, which has brought up (predictably) many of the worst responses in everyone involved. A few things seem pretty clear to me. First (point #1), Imus has always been a jerk, and arguably started the horrible and socially destructive tradition of the "radio asshole who tells it like it is". I'm not sad to see him go. Second (point #2), his comments are certainly in the worst tradition of racial commentary. For those who think otherwise, imagine that he had referred to someone as "big-nosed" (a Jew) or "slanty-eyed" (an Asian), and meant that they were ugly for having that characteristic. (Noting, of course, that "nappy hair" and the characteristics I mentioned, among many others - including dark skin, of course - have always been synonymous with unattractiveness in America, and beyond. If his comment didn't strike you as racist it's because you've internalized our societal racism.) Worse, of course, he tacked on "ho", which needs no explanation, except to remind anyone who has forgotten that Black women have traditionally been seen as hypersexualized and unintelligent, and to take down a group of academically successful Black women through the reenforcement of that stereotype is disgusting. More on the specific language in a minute.
First, though (point #3), it is not clear to me that firing Don Imus, as opposed to having him publicly change his behavior, while retaining his platform for demonstrating this change, is the right move. Imus's fans now see him as a martyr figure, the victim of people who they probably already believe to be stupid and opportunistic - Jesse Jackson, Al Sharpton, and so on. Firing Imus reenforces their perception of the situation as a battle between some kind of nebulous "free speech" principle and the forces of "political correctness", while allowing them to get off the hook and not address the comments themselves, nor the culture that spawned them. Imus may be a changed man for this experience, but his fans will never know it, and probably will come away worse than before. That doesn't seem like a positive outcome. Imagine if Imus had been allowed to stay on the air, under the terms that he make an effort to undo the damage of his previous comments. My guess is that what would happen is that his whole macho swagger would be lost, and he would eventually become undone and unpopular. Beyond the positive of not martyring Imus for his fans, and forcing them to confront the issues raised by this incident in the context of their hero's recanting and changed behavior, his subsequent fall from grace (if that's what happened) would demonstrate that the Emperor never had any clothes, save the teeth that had been removed. It's like the image of the biggest, baddest bully, having been humiliated by the gym teacher, crying in front of his onetime victims. It shows the other would-be bullies that their leader is not who he appeared to be, and shouldn't be their model. Doesn't this sound better than the current situation?
Finally (point #4), I haven't seen any commentary about the specific language that Imus used, which reads to my eyes as having been lifted directly from hip hop culture. Today's sports culture uses hip hop language as a backdrop, largely because of the predominance of Black athletes, who are constantly in front of cameras, either as current players being interviewed or former players giving commentary. Sports culture and hip hop culture also both have a frank obsession with money-earning; there's a business mentality that uses similar terms across both fields. Through the inflation of sports players' salaries and the increasing prominence of rap in global culture, the twin images of Wealthy Black Men in our society are athletes and rappers.
Don Imus is far from the first person on the radio to use the term "nappy-headed ho"; what's different in this case is that A) he is White, B) he said it about specific women who had enough cultural prominence for the claim to be contested, and C) he said it live, instead of in a recorded song. The third has little relevance in this case, except to say that the term is clearly lifted from the world of rap music, where mysogynistic lyrics are the norm, especially among the commercially successful rap that integrates neatly with the sports world. It would be absurd to argue that Don Imus should be given a pass for using the language he used because he could claim to be influenced by hip hop - though it would be an effective parody of the Tipper Gore hearings. Still, the absence of any mention of that influence is hugely problematic. It suggests that the cultural leaders who are rightly denouncing Imus have no intention of broadening the scope of their attack to include the much more prevalent and destructive attack on women, especially Black women, that is omnipresent in our culture. It furthermore suggests the implicit assumption that the women who are attacked in hip hop are deserving of no defense, and by extension, that they are responsible for the culture that gives rise to that mysogyny. Ask yourself if you think that - part of me does, I know, and I believe it to be a deep racism that I have been taught in our society. The only way to excise it is to address it. The next time you turn on the radio and hear an MC demeaning women - which will likely happen whenever you turn on a station that plays commercial rap - imagine if it was Don Imus you were hearing, and whether there would be a response of outrage. Then see if such a response occurs. It won't.
4/13/07
Kurt Vonnegut, 1922-2007 - 4/09/07
As requested:
If I should ever die, God forbid, let this be my epitaph:
THE ONLY PROOF HE NEEDED
FOR THE EXISTENCE OF GOD
WAS MUSIC
- Kurt Vonnegut
Read more here, and then go read everything else. I haven't, yet, but I look forward to more.
4/12/07
Spring Holiday Greetings - 4/09/07
Although I'm Jewish, and a fervent celebrator of Pesach (Passover), one of the best holidays on the calendar, I do have a secret love of Easter. The reason is simple - two of my favorite works from the Western classical tradition are Easter works. Both are Vespers, but could hardly be more different, save the occasion and the title - the Vespro della Beata Vergine of Claudio Monteverdi and the Vespers (All-Night Vigil) of Sergei Rachmaninoff. If you don't know these pieces, I suggest you immediately go out and get a recording of each. I haven't heard enough different recordings to be a reasonable recommender, but I do love my Dresden Baroque Orchestra and Chamber Choir recording of the Monteverdi, and my St. Petersburg Chamber Choir recording of the Rachmaninoff. Both are among my favorite recordings of anything I own.
There's not much good Passover music to recommend, except the Ten Commandments soundtrack, but if you want to hear my most recent Jewish-inspired work, come up to Williamstown next Saturday for the American Premiere of Lamenting. There will be a panel discussion sandwiched between two (!) performances of the work, which I consider to be among the best things I've ever done as a composer, for what that's worth.
Happy holidays!
4/09/07
Tonic - 4/04/07
The news of Tonic's closing really has me down these days. I've also heard rumors that the Knitting Factory and Galapagos are facing similarly dire straits. Where are we supposed to play? I tend to agree with Alex that, in New York at least, classical music and new music are thriving. But there's a shortsightedness that's going on in the city right now, an assumption that artists will keep coming, moving to the periphery, taking their lumps and making neighborhoods "clean" or "safe" and then getting out when the rents get too high. Sin-e is closing, and other clubs in formerly marginalized neighborhoods have met that same fate, but Tonic, the Knitting Factory, and Galapagos are different - these are the spaces that are now the backbone for the developing indie classical community. If they all go, I'm not sure what will rise to fill their void. Even Tonic alone is leaving big shoes to fill.
New York City needs to have a comprehensive strategy for integrating the arts into neighborhoods, going forward. The free-market approach is simply going to drive out of the city the people who make it an interesting and exciting place to live. Or will it? Certainly, people like me will have to leave, but will the people who are moving here actually care? I see artists as the Dark Matter that keeps the city going - not financially, but spiritually. Even if the finance and law and commercial crowds don't know that we are here, they need us to give the city the slight edge that it still retains. I don't mean "edge" in a superficial sense, but as the antagonist to the rounded corners that the national chains, high-end boutiques, and overpriced restaurants want to provide for well-paying customers. Will the 20-somethings who move to New York actually stay here to raise a family? I don't know that they plan to. Will they want an active cultural life? For those who stay, I would think that they would. Does the city want to cultivate that type of long-term relationship with those people? I am certain that it does, but right now, the powers-that-be are relying on the big-ticket venues and establishments to provide that cultural backbone, and I don't think that it's working.
What separates New York from a hundred other cities is not the quality of our orchestra or our opera or our museums - all outstanding, but (except for the opera) not clearly the best of their kind in the country - rather, it's the constellation of smaller artistic entities that make their home here. It's the off- and off-off-Broadway theater, the neighborhoods filled with art galleries, the omnipresent dance, the culturally-specific production companies, and yes, it's the little music scenes, in every genre, that keep the city vibrant and interesting in a way that I don't think is even nearly replicated or approached anywhere else. If New York is going to remain "New York" going forward in this new century, there will need to be a conscious self-examination, asking the question, what city do we want to be, and how can we get there? If anyone has suggestions on how to spur that process, I'm all ears. And don't worry - of course I'm hatching a plan.
In more positive news, everyone in New York should come to Icosahedron tonight to hear Grosse Tugenden, plus great new works by Missy Mazzoli, David T. Little, John Halle, and Jed Distler. The show is part of the VIM: TriBeCa concert series, and starts at 7:30 prompt.
4/04/07
Birds - 3/22/07
When I leave Princeton, and move to New York City, there are two things that I will really miss. One is the four-mile walk/run (the latter never more than half-way, if I'm to be honest) that I take most mornings I'm in town. There's nowhere in New York that offers the same, turn-off-your-active-brain kind of contemplative space for that long a distance. Too many streets to cross - that's the main problem, actually. The other thing I'll really miss is the daily presence of nice birds, from great angles. My windows have seen all kinds of birds pass in front of them - from regular or semi-regular visitors like blue jays, cardinals, catbirds, robins (they are everywhere in Princeton, year-round, as if this is where they all lie in wait for spring to come) and the omnipresent sparrows, starlings and crows, to the occasionally-seen chickadees, nuthatches, woodpeckers, and swallows (I think), to the "special occasion" birds - most dramatically, an instance where a hawk set up shop on a telephone pole, only to be chased away by what appeared to be a combined force of three different species. Were my eyes deceiving me, or was this a "grand alliance" in action? There are usually a couple of weeks each Spring where Princeton becomes a major stopover for many migrating birds - they are everywhere, different varieties, and I can't count them all (not that I have time to, anyway). While I know that New York is actually much more of a birder's paradise than Princeton (thanks to Central Park's uniquely inviting environment, in contrast to the surrounding urban landscape), I'm not convinced that my windows will bring me the same level of visibility that I currently enjoy. Pigeons and sparrows are fine, but now I'm spoiled and I want a little more.
That will have to wait until the next move, the one OUT of the city. Until then, I'm not going to sweat it.
3/22/07
Lenny - 3/19/07
The Time Out New York list of the 50 Greatest Musicians of All Time caused, as it was certainly intended to do, some controversy. Most of these arguments fell into one of two categories, neither particularly legitimate: 1) the "you chose the wrong artist from my favorite genre" category (and I'd agree that KRS-One should be on the list, Run-DMC should be lower, and Wu-Tang Clan should be way higher, as perhaps the most important hip hop entity since the Zulu Nation), or 2) the "what about this obscure or relatively obscure artist whose effect on me, personally, I will extrapolate to a position of general importance" category. Part (most) of the reason you publish a top-50 list is so that people will open it up, looking for their favorite artist. So those responses are part of the game.
Probably the most reasonable argument against omission that I've heard is that on behalf of Leonard Bernstein. His overarching presence in the classical life of New York City, his mentorship of and support for countless younger conductors and composers, his cross-genre compositional career, and his triple-threat (composer/pianist/conductor) talent are almost an aside to his main importance; he was the last figure in classical music to represent that music adequately and affirmatively to the non-classical world. He used television and radio to broaden his reach, and sold the music through his genuine passion for and devotion to it. He was a pedagogue in the most general sense of the term, a true leader of his community. I know all this, despite his death when I was eleven years old, because of the giant shadow he left over the two cultural institutions that were most important to my own love affair with classical music, the New York Philharmonic and Tanglewood. In looking back on his legacy, I think of certain great historical figures, such as Bismarck, who were so talented and ambitious that they set up systems around themselves that only made sense when they were in power. In their absence, the systems crumbled, and people were left waiting for the next such genius to appear. Or they simply suffered the consequence of there being no such figure.
I have heard, over and over, that "there is no Lenny today" - this fact seems to define many institutional assumptions about what it is that is needed for classical music to thrive. I would love to see an examination of the Bernstein legacy. How much of the consolidation of classical music's money and power in New York has to do with his charisma and role as a national figure situated here? Or does one thing have nothing to do with the other? Did his national prominence overshadow local possibilities? Or am I overreaching, and overstating the case? I'm less interested in all these questions, though, than I am in wondering how to dislodge all the money and cultural authority that is vested in the big institutions of New York and elsewhere, so as to direct it towards the many smaller institutions that need support (including, yes, those of which I am a part, but in no way even slightly limited to them). The mid-20th-century models of centralized institutions and structures (Lincoln Center, for example) were great in their time, and have their place today, but they are also anachronistic in many regards. More importantly, no one seems to be asking the question of whether the way things are done, in terms of funding structures and philanthropy, is the best way possible for New York or for the country as a whole. In a way, I think of Bernstein as being an emblem of the time when this system made the most sense - a time when there was funding for arts education in public schools, when music lessons were a regular part of kids' lives, when classical art was less of an outlier in the cultural landscape. To the extent that he is held up as someone who needs to be replaced, directly, in the new system, that's a problem. But there's no question that he's one of the most important figures in New York's amazing musical history.
3/19/07
New to America? This Should Help Fill You In - 2/22/07
This about sums it all up.
Thanks to Josh Frankel for the tip, and to John Delk for the great piece. His other work is good, too, so go check it out.
I'll hopefully get back to writing more once I finish this piece for Newspeak.
2/22/07
Steve Jobs Is Either Smart or Merely Cool - 2/08/07
Steve Jobs, Apple founder and sometime populist techno-entrepeneur, wrote an essay about music distribution on the Apple website. (I like the idea that the Apple website is Jobs's forum for public writing in the same way that this space right here is mine.) It's all about music distribution and the potential future of the music industry. I've had music distribution on my mind the past few months, with the launch of New Amsterdam, so this is particularly interesting reading right now. I'd be very glad to hear thoughts on this from anyone who's reading (I wish I had comments on this page! I guess you should just e-mail me).
One thing that occurs to me is that Jobs is making a big leap surrounding physical media. The centerpiece of his argument, supporting an open model of music distribution, is that physical CDs all allow for the free distribution of mp3s and other formats created from the data on those CDs. In other words, when you rip a CD onto your computer, those files can be moved around without any controls whatsoever. And most of the music that's out there comes from that original source (this seems true even if he might be somewhat inflating the numbers).
I like the conclusion here, of course. But is this short-sighted? There's something of a debate going on among people like me and my friends, people with no real institutional power, about the future of physical products in the music world. Everyone has a differently nuanced perspective, it seems. I'm an agnostic, for now, but there's no question that the issue of physical formats is up in the air. Why should we continue to take the expensive step of burning millions of CDs when they are increasingly only used as tools for getting lower-quality formats onto portable players? Even if you believe in the quality issue, saying that CDs contain better sound than mp3s, which is true, it won't be long before we increase internet bandwidth and storage capability to the point where downloading an AIFF or WAV file and putting it on your IPod will not take long or take up too much of your IPod's storage space. Even if it's a specialized market (the high-quality format market), it's not one that needs its own technology - the natural trends point in that direction, anyway. Another argument people bring out (and I feel this way) is the "physical connection" argument - that people want to have an object to which they can tie the audible experience of the music they hear. Increasingly, I suspect that this has less to do with a physical object and more to do with some kind of extra-musical experience. If an artist had a compelling website, with video and artistic content, wouldn't that be better than a simple CD jacket, in terms of linking a non-musical experience to the music in your mind? That feels like a more fulfilling experience than can be had with a CD jacket, in any case.
I'm not valuing any of these things, except the last, to some extent. Whether or not this is good for society or for music or for me is another question. I'm just wondering if Jobs should be so sure that people will continue to favor CDs over online experiences. And, if he's wrong on that, then the percentages of "controllable" music will increase, to the point where companies may be foolish to relinquish proprietary claims on formats. Jobs has been right and wrong at various times about technology issues, and I like his conclusion in this case, but I don't know whether it's sound from a financial point of view.
2/08/07
What??? - 1/12/07
This is one of the most consistently entertaining articles I have ever read. Thanks to Steve Smith for pointing it out. Is it authentic? Are the quoted students actually real people? Did any of this happen? It reads, to me, almost like an Onion article, if The Onion actually cared about classical music.
1/12/07
January Is International Month For Me - 1/12/07
I can count on one hand the number of times I've been out of the country, fingers #2 and #3 are Canada, and one of those is for a quick trip over the border in Niagara Falls. I'm not much of a traveler, though I've always known (at least since I started writing music seriously) that there would come a day that I would start getting taken to places where my music was being played. And that day seems to have come. This September, I went to Milwaukee for the first time, which was great, and now the ante has been raised - the Williams College Choir is taking me with them on a tour of Rome, where they are premiering the complete version of my new work, Lamenting. We'll also be visiting the town of Palestrina, and the cities of Florence and Coma, before heading back.
This is my first trip to Europe, and I'm obviously excited. I have no idea what to expect, having not seriously travelled anywhere but Israel. This is a pretty controlled environment, as I'll be with people who know their way around. And Rome is not a bad choice for a first trip to Europe, or so I've heard. If any readers have thoughts or suggestions, please pass them along. I'll be heading to Williamstown for rehearsals next week, and we leave on Friday.
Meanwhile, the Israel Contemporary String Quartet is giving the Israeli premiere of Four on the Floor, after a successful pair of shows here in the States. I've revised the piece to make it a little more succinct and therefore less taxing on the players; like most of my works, it asks a lot in terms of endurance, and for strings, that can mean pain and injury. So we'd like to avoid that - and I would like them to play the work freely, without concern! I think the new version is at least a step in that direction, and I hope they take the changes to heart and play it all over their small but musically rich country.
Israel comes into play in Lamenting, my setting of the Hebrew alphabet. Here's my program note for that work, which turned out to be a big, important piece for me:
Lamenting is the product of an idea, conceived by Brad Wells, to place Giovanni Palestrina's 16th century settings of the Hebrew alphabet (the "Alef Bet") in a modern context. Four of the five books of the Lamentations of Jeremiah were written as an alphabetical acrostic; these were set with their Hebrew letters intact by Renaissance composers, offering those composers a rare opportunity to avoid the usual constraints of Latin texts. Palestrina responded with a series of extremely short miniatures that are often contrapuntally and harmonically bold for their time, and beautiful for any era. My goal, in writing Lamenting, was to internalize Palestrina's compositional voice and write a new work that would combine his voice with my own, in the service of creating a full setting of the Alef Bet. The resulting setting is intertextual, speaking both to and through the Hebrew language, Palestrina, and the acrostic shell of the Lamentation text, with its description of the destruction of the First Temple in Jerusalem and the corruption of the Jewish people. Lamenting incorporates actual Palestrina settings and references others, placing that music in dialogue with musical elements that are clearly of the present. In forging that connection between the past and the present, from the eras of Jeremiah and Palestrina through the histories of two of the world's greatest and bloodiest cities, up to the present day, it is impossible to avoid the bittersweet quality that is so characteristic of Jewish history. Jerusalem is still the source of much lamentation after 2500 years, and even as the Alef Bet has once again become the alphabet of a joyous, living tongue, spoken by Jews who live and thrive in the city, the dark clouds of corruption still gather. As much as anything else, I lament that this is so, and that we are unable to move past the problems of centuries long past, but not forgotten. Lamenting is dedicated to my grandmother, Gabrielle Greenstein.
1/12/07
Sacrifice - 1/03/07
Once again, Keith Olbermann tells it like it is. I've always found Bush's use of the word "sacrifice" to be quite disgusting in the context of sending troops to war; he conflates self-sacrifice, a noble virtue (a point that David Graeber writes about interestingly in this month's Harpers), with his own decision to engage in war, a decision that he sees as a sacrifice on his part. How could he justify this conflation?
There are two different decisions involved in soldiers' winding up in Iraq, and both are necessary - the decision to join the armed forces, made by individual soldiers (noble), and Bush's decision to start and continue the war (ignoble). Many soldiers have joined with full intent to go to Iraq, but they did so, I believe, with the belief that Bush had our country's best interests at heart (possibly true, though unlikely), and that he and his people had a well-constructed plan for success in the region (obviously false). In joining under those pretexts - and here I am only speaking of soldiers who signed up with the desire or sense of duty to go to Iraq, not the many more who signed up earlier and were rewarded with this unjust war - the soldiers sacrificed their freedom, willingly, to Mr. Bush. They said, Mr. President, we trust you to do the right thing, and we will do what you ask of us. And in so doing, they became Mr. Bush's to sacrifice.
The conflation of their sacrifice with Bush's decisions is tantamount to a boy playing with toys. He wants to see what will happen if he drops the G.I. Joe into the fireplace. How will it melt? Which parts will last the longest? He knows, perhaps, that the toy will no longer be his to play with. It's a sacrifice on his part, in the name of knowledge and experience, that he may or may not be willing to make. He weighs the consequences and makes a decision. The toy, like all toys, was never alive, never had free will or feelings or agency, is made of plastic, has no family. But what if it's his sister's Barbie instead? Now there are consequences. Now he has to justify the sacrifice of the Barbie, in the name of knowledge and experience. He has to explain, to his sister or his parents, that there was a greater cause involved, and that the sacrifice of the Barbie was worth it. Perhaps she'll accept his decision, or at least his apology. But what if it's the family dog? Now we get closer to the case in question, because this dog, however loyal, would not ask to be dropped into the fire. Certainly, the dog knows nothing of human knowledge or the idea of experience. If he's a good dog, he may well be willing, without knowing what he is doing, to sacrifice himself for his family's safety. This is noble.
We would all agree, I think, that dropping a dog into the fire in order to see what happens is an immoral act. We would be horrified that a boy could even think to do such a thing. Why is this different from the toy? The G.I. Joe has no purpose outside of pleasing the boy; if the boy chooses to destroy it, he is only hurting himself, if anyone. The Barbie has a purpose of pleasing the sister, but even though the boy is harming his sister by ruining the Barbie, it's still nothing like dropping the dog in the fire. The dog differs not only in being alive, feeling pain, having a life outside of his allegiance to the boy, but also in being allegiant, in having made a decision (of sorts) to follow this boy and do what the boy wants him to be done. The dog trusts the boy. And we instinctively feel, like dogs, that trust is the most powerful of bonds, the most noble relationship between people, and therefore the most tragic and gruesome when it is broken.
Bush has no choice but to frame his sacrifice of his loyal troops as a sacrifice that he is making. The only justification for his decision is the promise of a greater good that lies in the distance. History, he tells us, again and again, will vindicate him. True or not, it's a claim he has to make; like a prisoner who convinces himself of his own innocence, he frames the world as it needs to be in order that he may perceive himself as a moral actor. If there is no greater good, he has been doing no more than sacrificing those who put their trust in him. What apology could possibly suffice, if he comes to terms with such a crime?
Whether or not one believes that this war is justified, I do not believe that this point is arguable: we cannot trust Bush to tell us whether this is the case. The person who has put his chips on the table should not be allowed to spin the wheel, or especially to call out the winning number. There's a conflict of interest in letting the person who chose war also choose war's end; to admit that he was wrong is not just a bad political move, as so many people have pointed out, placing Rove at the center of this drama, but also an impossible one from a psychological standpoint. Given the choice to avoid the crippling consequences of taking responsibility for horrific actions, only the noblest of men and women would have the strength to do so. I have no doubt that many of these men and women are currently in Iraq or have spent time there, and that many of them wish that it was their decision to make. Unfortunately, our Decider is not so brave, and continues to throw these men and women into harm's way, deciding to sacrifice them, in his self-interested quest for a rationale for this war that never should have been fought.
1/03/07
Inland Empire - 12/29/06
I saw Inland Empire last night. It was definitely worth seeing, though it's a much more sprawling and anti-narrative film than I had hoped. My friend Simon, with whom I saw it, made the good point that Lynch seems to be at his best when he's tethered to the "problem" of reaching a broader audience, since his two best pieces of work, we agree, are Twin Peaks (before he gave up on the show, and to some extent, after he returned to pick up the pieces) and Mulholland Drive. Both are made-for-TV products, though MH never made it there; this means that Lynch has to balance his tendency to let loose the entropic forces with the need to lure people in. The effect of this is that we, or I, care more about the characters in those works than in his others, as I know more about them and have a greater sense of who they are. In Inland Empire, the characters, good or bad (or "good" or "bad" or "good?" or "bad?") are all sketch-like; we hardly meet them at all before they turn into shadows and reflections, or perhaps refracted versions of themselves. For Lynch, this may be the point; none of the first characters we meet in the film have discernible human faces. And then the movie goes from there....
As I said, it's still worth seeing, but ultimately a disappointment for me. I love the feeling, in a David Lynch movie, where everything suddenly plunges forward into the chute of chaos and disorder, and we're left clawing at what we remember from earlier scenes to give the fleeting images some kind of meaning. I've always thought of this as strongly analogous to music, in the breakdown of literal meaning into referential meaning. The life we see in the "calm" portions of Lynch's stories become fodder for their seemingly more true reflections on the other side of the perceptive divide; in other words, he shows us the world as we know it only so that we have a reference point for his revelation of the world as it truly is. The problem with Inland Empire is that we do not get this reference point. The Lynchian plunge happens fairly early in the film, and as we claw for meaning on our way down, we find little to hold on to.
Around half of the dialogue in the film is in Polish, and some part of the plot (I couldn't give it away if I tried) takes place in Poland. Fittingly, Lynch uses music by Penderecki and Lutoslawski (more than the former than the latter, unfortunately), in addition to the usual Lynch musical fare, perhaps as an homage to the Polish sensibility, or something like that. Strangely, the reference winds up being more sideways, to Stanley Kubrick's films that use Penderecki scores, particularly The Shining. There are some amazing musical moments in Inland Empire, including one where the idea of building tension through music is deconstructed, thoroughly and (not surprisingly) bizarrely. It comes near the end of the film, as if to say, "now the final parameter is in play as an object of deconstruction - because you weren't really noticing the music, anyway, were you?" For musicians and composers, it's a nice touch - a sort of strange shout out.
12/29/06
Is This a Joke? - 12/24/06
Just saw an ad for the Hummer that showed a kid bringing a snowball into class for show and tell. Why would he bring a snowball into class? Because there's no snow on the ground. Where did he get the snowball? From the mountains, where he went with his dad, in their Hummer.
Is this meant as a dark, dark joke? A stab at pansy liberals who talk about silly things like "global warming"? I really don't know.
In any case, happy holidays to anyone who's reading, and I promise to write more regularly in the new year.
12/24/06
What I've Been Doing - 12/15/06
Even for me, this gap in my recent writing has been severe. I hope to get back into it more consistently next week, just like I hope to get my iPod working with my new computer, just like I hope to, I don't know, vacuum my floor, and other things like that. It's been a very, very busy period, and it's not so much over as it is just beginning, in the sense that many of the things I'm doing will involve a deeper commitment going forward. That's exciting but terrifying.
One of these things, which is a little bit of a secret (but so is this blog, right?) is my new record label, which hasn't officially announced itself to the world but which is definitely operational. It's kind of like the Death Star in that way, except instead of blowing up planets, we'll be selling CDs of artists like NOW Ensemble and Jody Redhage and other people who fall into this weird category that I've found myself in. About the label, I write (on the website):
I formed New Amsterdam Records as a haven for the great artists I know who make music that slips through the cracks between genres. There's an exciting scene that's developed in New York over the past few years, as a set of strong-minded young musicians have taken their art in highly personal directions, speaking not just to the traditions that have spawned them but also to the varied musical culture in which they all live. They make music without filters, bringing the breadth of their listening experience and the love they have for many different kinds of music into their own playing and writing and producing. This is music without walls, but also without an agenda, and without an organizing principle. The records we sell will paint a certain picture of that scene without a name, without trying to give it one. I hope that New Amsterdam develops as quickly and as broadly as the scene itself, capturing the best that people in it have to offer along the way, and touching the outer edges where musics meet. And I hope that you enjoy the music that we offer.
There will be much more to say about all this, soon, but I did want to offer a little preview.
Something else I've been doing is working to get VIM: TriBeCa into shape. We have a great series this year, but it's hard to generate the kind of publicity and hype that a series needs, without having money or dedicated workers to do it. We're looking into hiring someone in the next couple of weeks; if this goes well, it could change everything, and perhaps provide a model for the other organizations with which I'm involved.
(By the way, both the New Amsterdam Records and VIM: TriBeCa sites were designed by Beth Ragland, who has an unbelievable eye for graphic design. She's been great to work with and I recommend her highly. Of course, I also still love Sam.)
On top of all this, NOW Ensemble has been rocking from New Haven to Princeton. We premiered 14 works (!) in the past week, and now we're looking ahead to recording our album. It's exciting but I feel like I need a clone or three of myself, especially since I also have some big composition deadlines looming. If anyone knows where I can get a good clone made, please e-mail me. I'd also accept a serf, vassal, or man-servant. Chanukah begins this weekend...
12/15/06
I'm Going to Write About This But Not Now - 11/14/06
I went to hear Joanna Newsom last night at Webster Hall. I have lots to say but I need to listen to her album first - and now it's on my portable mp3 player, and I have some train riding to do tonight, so there we go.
11/14/06
See Ya' - 11/08/06
"To those who scare peace-loving people with phantoms of lost liberty, my message is this: your tactics only aid terrorists, for they erode our national unity and diminish our resolve. They give ammunition to America's enemies, and pause to America's friends."
- John Ashcroft, December 2001
11/08/06
Followup to the Note on Misspellings - 10/25/06
My friend Josh wrote in to point out, rightly, that I missed a major distinction in types of misspelling. In one case, you have the type that I mention below, where the spelling reflects the sound of a spoken "dialect". So Black Moon's "Enta Da Stage" is titled in such a way to appear as Buckshot (the lead MC) says the words (though he sort of sounds like he's saying "Entu", but whatever). Then there are misspellings that are more efficient from a typing perspective, such as "ur" instead of "your", which might appear on an AOL Instant Messenger text, or on a cell phone text message. And then there are misspellings that have nothing to do with sound or efficiency, but which are misspellings for misspelling's sake, such as the track "Shit Iz Real" on the same Black Moon album (I could also cite the preposterously titled "Make Munne", again from Black Moon, as an example). Using the "z" does nothing to change the sound of the text, but it signals to the reader that we are in a raw, unrefined world, so get used to it.
What does this say about "Klap Ur Handz"? Words one and three are examples of the last kind of misspelling, and they sandwich an IM/TM misspelling. So, in fact, there's nothing of the kind of misspelling that I pontificated about below, in defense of the album/piece title. Oh well. That leaves the whole thing out there for the vultures to pick at, perhaps rightly so.
10/25/06
A Note on Misspellings - 10/18/06
In my last post, I offered a press release by Daniel Bernard Roumain, for a new Lark Quartet CD entitled "Klap Ur Handz". Some readers have responded in ways that seem to "agree" with my critique of the "misspelled" CD name, which is taken from a Roumain composition on the album.
It seems that a point of clarification is in order: I never meant to critique the CD title. Misspellings are all over the place in recorded music, from classic rock ("Led Zeppelin") and metal (a million examples, plus the umlaut fetishization) to super-classic rock ("The Beatles") and jazz ("Swingin' with...", etc.). The bar was raised in the 1970s, as funk and soul groups named their titles after the sound of the words they sang, rather than the literal version. An argument could be made that this was tied to the African-American empowerment movement, which celebrated emblems of Black culture that had previously been put down - "denigrated", one might say (the term "denigrate" itself being an offensive gesture, meaning "to blacken", as my friend Liz pointed out). Reclaiming the "misspellings" as not "mis-", but rather, alternative spellings, reflective of Black cultural priorities, made perfect sense in the context of that movement, and was part of an important post-Civil Rights cultural development.
By the late 1980s, when hip hop began its rise to prominence, the idea of "misspelling" was taken to a new level. West Coast groups like N.W.A. reflected their I-don't-give-a-fuck, gangsta image in the titles of their songs and their albums - such as the seminal "Straight Outta Compton". Hip hop, coming out of 1970s Black urban culture, normally featured some tweaked spellings, representing the sound of the rapped lyrics. This made particular sense in the case of hip hop, where the sounds of words take on a paramount importance; the difference between "outta" and "out of", for example, is obviously enormous (try rapping "straight out of Compton").
I'm not going to elaborate much on the relevance of the late 1980s "gangsta" shift, but suffice it to say that I believe the self-perception of a group like N.W.A. was markedly different from that of Erik B and Rakim or Boogie Down Productions, perhaps the most important pre-gangsta East Coast groups. The latter held up social justice concerns and intellectualism as significant values; they wanted to be taken seriously as both having street authenticity and being public intellectuals, and their lyrics reflect this. The gangsta attitude that busted into the hip hop scene privileged debauchery and a sort of street nihilism as the only authentic values, though it is worth noting that even members of N.W.A., particularly Ice Cube, did present strong social justice concerns (especially in their later, solo tracks). That the visual representation of the lyrics was a slap in the face to any kind of ties to tradition is hardly surprising, and it's not the wholly problematic turn that people like Bill Cosby would claim; N.W.A. really did want you to "express yourself", as one of their songs said, by being true to who you really are. That's cool. The problem came when they insisted that "who they were" was a group of delinquent killers and rapists, but that's another issue for another day. With the advent of West Coast gangsta rap, the East Coast scene quickly followed suit, with the Wu-Tang Clan and Black Moon issuing particularly raunchy, particularly misspelled albums (Black Moon's "Enta Da Stage" is nearly undecipherable unless you actually say the song titles out loud). The dramatic misspelling remains characteristic of gangsta rap, but most hip hop albums retain some vestiges of those crazy, early years.
Back to the string quartet, then - there's no question that misspelling is a sign of hip hop. Whether or not one thinks that the piece in question has anything to do with hip hop (and I haven't heard it, and therefore can't judge), it makes sense to me to signal the connection that listeners should make, across genres and cultural divides, through the title. The Lark Quartet made a reasonable decision to tie together their CD with a Roumain work and a Gershwin arrangement that share the same title, minus spelling changes, thereby tying together (perhaps) 70 years of "new music". I have no idea whether the album concept works, but it's a reasonable concept.
I found the promotional line from the Roumain people to be ridiculous for its quote about clapping, and for the citing of "Cro-Magnon man"; I don't feel like getting into it more than that. But the title doesn't bother me. Unfortunately, our culture generally conditions us to distrust anti-conformist signs and symbols; in this case, we are told that such misspellings promote illiteracy, or some other such anti-intellectual value. I don't buy it, but I know plenty of smart people who take that position, so I'm not going to make a short claim here where a longer essay is required. That's not fear speaking - I'd love to get into this issue - I just have to go do some work.
10/18/06
This Is Why I Do My Own PR - 10/16/06
The title of this brief post is facetious - the reason I do my own PR is, of course, because I do not have the money to hire anyone else to do it. But I have been struck by some of the ridiculous things that have come across my (virtual) desk, recently.
From the New York Philharmonic website:
Lorin Maazel declared, "Xian has the potential for a superb career, not because she is Chinese or a woman, but because she is uniquely gifted."
Is any comment necessary? There's nothing I love more than the boneheaded effort at political correctness that winds up being incredibly (and inadvertently) racist or sexist or homophobic or anti-Semitic. It reveals how the content and purpose of the PC movement has never really been internalized, even as the markers of political correctness have become a de rigeur part of any PR checklist. Here, I'm not sure whether the quote makes more sense if read to imply that Xian will be a star in spite of her female-ness or her Chinese-ness, or not merely because of those qualities. The former is baldly racist and sexist; the latter offers coded language telling us that this is not (NOT!) some kind of affirmative action or marketing ploy. In other words, "we're not just letting her conduct because we're embarrassed by the omnipresence of old White guys on the podium - she's actually good!" Oh, really? How about that!
Meanwhile, in my e-mail, I get the following, from Daniel Bernard Roumain's PR people:
Lark Quartet is releasing a new CD "Klap Ur Handz" on Endeavor Records on October 10, 2006. The CD is titled after one of the movements from DBR's newly commissioned string quartet "Parks" (named after Rosa Parks). In this work, the players have to clap, a feature he says was inspired by hip-hop rhythms but dates back to Cro-Magnon man. "There's something really communal about that," he says.
I love this stuff.
10/16/06
Last Night's Concert; Krugman - 10/13/06
First of all, I didn't notice until just now that today is Friday the 13th. Is that why this guy with a chainsaw has been chasing me around the apartment all day? I was beginning to wonder.
I didn't fully realize the extent to which last night's concert, a mixed chamber/solo new music show on the VIM: TriBeCa series, had been stressing me out until I woke up at NOON today. Good to know that I'm capable of doing that kind of recovery sleep every once in a while. The show went fantastically - the program sounded great together, the performances were first-rate, the evening felt coherent and also diverse. I can't really blog about my own show, and there were many highlights, so I'm not going to say more right now. (I also have to go finish a section of a piece.)
Meanwhile, I must note that the frustrating Paul Krugman is giving us his Congressional race predictions. One thing stood out to me, and it's more of a comment on the shoddy state of journalism in general, and the Times columnists in particular (and, of course, on Krugman himself). He writes:
The key point is that African-Americans, who overwhelmingly vote Democratic, are highly concentrated in a few districts. This means that in close elections many Democratic votes are, as political analysts say, wasted - they simply add to huge majorities in a small number of districts, while the more widely spread Republican vote allows the G.O.P. to win by narrower margins in a larger number of districts.
My back-of-the-envelope calculations suggest that because of this "geographic gerrymander," even a substantial turnaround in total Congressional votes - say, from the three-percentage-point Republican lead in 2004 to a five-point Democratic lead this year - would leave the House narrowly in Republican hands. It looks as if the Democrats need as much as a seven-point lead in the overall vote to take control.
This quote is all out of context, but the point I want to raise is evident: why is Krugman, a one-time well-respected economist, current columnist for the New York Times, the guy who you would supposedly ask about these issues, giving us his "back-of-the-envelope calculations"? How about doing some research, Mr. Krugman? How about earning your salary? I've long said that they should have more columnists writing less often. Every-other-day is too much, and this is part of the reason why - between book signings, or whatever it is that Krugman does (I know he's on the faculty at Princeton, so maybe he teaches - and yes, I could research this, but I don't draw a salary for writing "Why?"), he must not have time to get numbers and really crunch them, even though he's certainly capable of doing so.
I've had arguments about the future of journalism, plenty of them, and I don't know where I stand. I'm not sure what I want to happen, nor what I think will happen. I'm not informed enough to make a good call, anyway. But I know that there's no point in having the New York Times be the New York Times if they aren't offering more than the back of Paul Krugman's envelope, and usually they don't offer much more at all.
10/12/06
We Are Not Alone - 10/06/06
It's been known for a while that NOW Ensemble is not alone in the world; there are a number of other groups with similar names, and some with the same name. However, I did not realize that we had a true doppelganger until today. Watch the whole thing and note that the role of Alex is actually played by the young lady in the back - do not be fooled by the Sopp-esque dress of the woman with the microphone!
10/06/06
A Cartoon - 10/04/06
A Stanley Fish (sic, see below) cartoon worth seeing, to remind all of us who are pushing hard to get Democrats back in (some) power just what that party has really stood for in the recent past.
Being a political activist in a bipartisan system often has the feeling of being down 28 points in the late third quarter. You try like hell to score a quick touchdown, but you know that even if you do, you'll still be down big heading into the fourth. The game's not over but time is running out.
10/04/06
Update: The cartoon, as Nico points out, is almost certainly not by Stanley Fish. How embarrassing. It is credited to "Mr. Fish" on the Harper's page; I'm leaving it up here because A) I like to let my public embarrassments linger, and B) I think it's an interesting little thing that happened. My mind added "literary magazine" to "Mr. Fish" and came up with "Stanley Fish." Apologies to Mr. Fish, the cartoonist, for not crediting him properly, and to Stanley Fish, for misidentifying him as a cartoonist. (I assume that both are regular readers of this space.)
S.3930 - 09/30/06
Despite the absence of bloodshed, yesterday may well be remembered as one of the darker days in recent American history. I have found myself inert in the face of the mounting, seemingly unstoppable force of politics that led to the new law, too distracted by music-writing and concert-organizing to do anything. And what could I do, anyway? I contacted my representatives to no avail. I haven't figured out what happens next. This is a work-in-progress of the grimmest nature.
My good friend Todd Carnam, a writer living in Oakland, CA, sent me an essay this morning, with permission to share. And so I will. What follows is his writing, not mine, but regular readers of this space will recognize a common sensibility between us. I feel comfortable letting Todd speak for me on this issue, at this time.
S.3930
by Todd Carnam
On the inside of a book of matches from the Historic Hotel Nevada and Gambling Hall (Ely, NV) is written the following exhortation: Treat people right and the rest will take care of itself! Just a moment ago, while outside to smoke a cigarette, I opened this matchbook and saw this. And shuddered.
It's 1.14 am, you see, Saturday September 30th, 2006. Yesterday, of course, was Friday September 29th, Congress's last working day before the elections in November. Which means that they had a lot of work to do, a lot of bills and ammendments to pass or reject, many motions to get in under the wire. Like the Secure Fence Act of 2006 (H.R.6061 - Rep. King, NY), "To establish operational control over the international land and maritime borders of the United States" (passed). And like the Military Commissions Act of 2006 (S.3930 - Sen. McConnell, KY), "A bill to authorize trial by military commission for violations of the law of war, and for other purposes" (passed).
It's 1.52 am, you see, and because I have a T-1 connection and because we live in America [I'm leaving this statement alone for the moment] I know all about what certain things in the above paragraph mean. For instance, I'm at least partially aware of the meaning of that rather oblique phrase, "and for other purposes." Or should I instead call that phrase "dark"? Maybe I should call it "sinister."
Let's dig a little deeper. Because it pains us to do so.
From "Section 7. Treaty Obligations Not Establishing Grounds for Certain Claims," we have the following:
(a) In General - No person may invoke the Geneva Conventions, or any protocols thereto, in any habeas or civil action or proceeding to which the United States, or a current or former officer, employee, member of the Armed Forces, or other agent of the United States, is a party, as a source of rights in any court of the United States or its States or territories.
As you can see, habeas corpus is now suspended, or it is, at any rate, if your claim is going to be made against the United States or any of its agents. Which means people can be held indefinitely - as in forever, at least while the United States exists as a government or this bill stays unrepealed or struck down, the first of which seems a lock if "forever" needs to outlast the average lifetime, the second of which just seems damn likely - if their holders are agents/employees/et al of the United States of America.
Have you read The Trial? Do you know the story of Josef K.? I'm talking about a novel written by Franz Kafka sometime in the early part of the 20th century [he never published while he was alive], a lovely and profound piece of literature in which a man, Josef K., wakes up one day, opens the door his boarding house room, and finds that he is arrested. His two detainers, agents of the government, don't tell him why he is arrested, or what will happen to him, just that he can't leave.
"You can't go out, you are arrested." "So it seems," said K. "But what for?" he added. "We are not authorized to tell you that. Go to your room and wait there. Proceedings have been instituted against you, and you will be informed of everything in due course. I am exceeding my instructions in speaking freely to you like this.... If you continue to have as good luck as you have had in the choice of your warders, then you can be confident of the final result." (3)
And it goes on like this, page after page, chapter upon chapter, weeks and months on end of cryptic accusations that provide the foundation of a paler-than-vague case against him, a trial during which nothing is revealed to him - nothing about his accusers, nothing about his crime, nothing about the evidence against him, nothing about his fate - until finally two more men come to his boarding house to execute him. Which they do in due course. Although he does not know why.
The funny thing - no, the thing that I would like to find funny is that Kafka meant, I'm pretty sure, for this to be an allegory. As in, symbolic fiction. As in, not: fact, memoir, non-fiction, reportage, a chapter in a US history textbook.
But here we are. It's 2.55 am on a Saturday morning in late September, the 30th to be exact, the day after the 29th, and the country I live in has just decided that, should the name Josef K. show up on any of their lists, their agents can do precisely what Franz Kafka thought a century ago could only happen in fiction. And I can't sleep because of it.
So on to Section 8 of the bill.
(2) PROHIBITION ON GRAVE BREACHES-....No foreign or international source of law shall supply a basis for a rule of decision in the courts of the United States in interpreting the prohibitions enumerated in subsection (d) of such section 2441 [of title 18, United States Code].
(3) INTERPRETATION BY THE PRESIDENT- (A) As provided by the Constitution and by this section, the President has the authority for the United States to interpret the meaning and application of the Geneva Conventions and to promulgate higher standards and administrative regulations for violations of treaty obligations which are not grave breaches of the Geneva Conventions.
Leaving aside snarky comments about the powers of this president to interpret abstruse code and convoluted, essentially metaphysical guidelines, I would like here to point out that Congress by this law has placed the health, dignity, and lives of countless human beings into the hands of someone who, as an agent of the United States, has the werewithal and legal lattitude to hold said persons indefinitely, and without trial. Doing to them whatever he wishes in the meantime. Because the correspondence of his wishes for their treatment with what is deemed legal by international law is open to his interpretation.
That is to say, you can't ever touch him.
That is to say, if you happen to be caught in the roiling eddy of what is now official U.S. policy, you have no reasonable expectation of ever emerging from it. And by "you have no reasonable expectation" I mean that nothing that will or won't happen to you will be based on precepts of logic, and thus all ways by which you might seek to use same to extricate yourself from this situation would be fruitless, futile, beside the point. Put succinctly, you can be confident of the final result.
Does this disturb anyone else? Am I the only one up at, now, 4.42 in the morning thinking about this? Probably not, even though this is just a hope, a best guess. But I know it's so easy to go on buying our groceries and living our lives when we aren't the ones being called on in the rooms of our boarding houses, on a morning, if we were to look back on it, that was just like any other....
Is this where I wish for the corollary - Treat people wrong and the rest will take care of itself!? Or is this where I don't dare? Because I can already imagine how the "rest" will take care of "itself." I can all too readily imagine it, and I can all too visibly see, today, this morning at now 5.14, how those who are now in power do not.
Before I go. Perhaps the most egregious irony, that irony which very nearly nauseates, is the literal meaning of habeas corpus: thou [shalt] have the body. Definitionally - its legal usage - what is meant by this is that the body shall be had in a court of law, i.e., before a judge, for the purposes of explaining to it why it is in captivity, and not free. This is its colloquial meaning, but it is not its meaning now, today, in this country. Saturday, September 30th in the United States of America. No, the meaning of habeas corpus today is the literal meaning, the Latin meaning, the meaing it was never meant to have: the "thou" of this government, our government, quite literally, to the great despondency of every human being who cares about the diginity of being alive, has now, and will, by all reasonable accounts will have in perpetuity, the body. And they will never tell it why. They will tell it "in due course," whatever that, in the end, will come to mean.
I, for one, find Congress's actions of yesterday an assault on the dignity of every American in this country, that they have presumed we would all rather live lives of compromised integrity rather than live not at all. That they have presumed in us such cowardice.
First they came for the Jews
and I did not speak out
because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for the Communists
and I did not speak out
because I was not a Communist.
Then they came for the trade unionists
and I did not speak out
because I was not a trade unionist.
Then they came for me
and there was no one left
to speak out.
- Pastor Martin Niemoller
09/30/2006
What's Going On These Next Few Weeks - 09/27/06
Once again, I have drifted into silent mode on this space. I am working on an essay of sorts that I will post, when complete, but for now I have had my hands too full to write much at all. I thought it would be good to share my plug/hype/promo e-mail for the Fall, which most of you reading this have probably already received (if not, go here and sign up!). It's a summary of upcoming events, which are many and exciting.
First of all, everyone come out TOMORROW, 9/28, at 7:30, for the kick-off concert of a new series I'm curating, with Kimball Gallagher, at Gallerie Icosahedron. The series is called VIM: Tribeca, and it features some of the best young performers working today. NOW Ensemble is a natural fit for the series, and since this is going to be our only show in New York for a while (we're moving around a lot this year...), this is the one to see. Additional bonus: the piece of mine that we're doing is Free Speech Zone, my large-scale political work that we haven't played since last year's Free Speech Zone tour.
October is a huge month, all of a sudden, with three certain performances and a hopeful fourth. On Wednesday, October 4, at 8:00 pm, Jody Redhage gives another powerful performance of Corrupted, in which she sings and plays the cello. Jody and I worked hard to make this new, tight version of a very personal, political, and incredibly virtuosic work. No one can play it but Jody! She's recorded it, and many other new works, for a CD that will be coming out soon. The show is at The Stone, John Zorn's cool new space in the Lower East Side.
The following Monday, October 9, at 8:30 pm, Nadia Sirota will play Escape on a Composers Collaborative show at the Cornelia Street Cafe. This was a big project of mine last year, and one of the best pieces I think I've ever written, but very few people have heard it live. Nadia premiered it on her Master's recital last Spring at Juilliard, and it was among the most mind-blowing premieres I have ever had. I'm sure this performance will be as good or better, and Cornelia Street Cafe is a great place to hear it.
Later that week, we have another Icosahedron show, this one on Thursday, October 12, at 7:30 pm. The concert is a multi-composer, chamber music show, similar to that which we held at the Faust Harrison Studios last Spring. The program is excellent, with a number of contemplative, memorial-themed works, including my own The Night Gatherers, a viola quintet that was commissioned as a memorial work for my friend's grandparents. It's receiving its New York premiere, along with music by Lauren Buchter, Ryan Francis, Andrew McKenna Lee, David T. Little, and Sarah Kirkland Snider. This will be a beautiful evening, with many different performers and different sounds - I'm really looking forward to it.
Finally, on October 24, the dynamic chamber orchestra, Tactus, comes down to Princeton for a show. While I normally wouldn't suggest that people come to NJ for one of my concerts (there's enough going on in New York), this is a special case - Tactus is a wonderful group, led by the fabulous Patti Monson, and they are playing Beating, one of my favorite works that I've written, and one that has never been played since its premiere. It is a big, sprawling piece, for a strange instrumentation, and I am very excited to hear it again. Let me know if you think you'd like to come down to Princeton ("I hear it's lovely that time of year").
More shows and good things will be coming up in the late Fall and into the Winter, including a trip to Rome (!), but this is more than enough to chew on for now. Shana Tovah and Happy Fall to everyone, and I hope to see you at some of these concerts!
09/27/2006
Getting Up, Getting Down - 09/06/06
I'm writing this from a plane flying somewhere over the Midwest, en route to Milwaukee, where I'm going to premiere a new work. Present Music, a presenting organization for new music, has commissioned me to kick off their 25th Anniversary season. I wrote a big work (Get Up/Get Down) that is crazy and funky and makes me laugh - in a good way - whenever I think about it. Once I land, I'll immediately be whisked off to rehearsal, to perform a keyboard part that I wrote for myself, and which now has me wondering what I was thinking (it's hard!). Milwaukee is a city that's always intrigued me, so I'm looking forward to this week.
The past month and a half has been crazy, with weddings in three states, camping in four, and a good deal of music-writing and organizational work in between and around those adventures. This year promises to be an exciting one; I'm already looking ahead to a half-dozen premieres, New York premieres, and other big performances. I'll write more about the past and the future when I'm down on the ground again...but until then, I hope everyone is well and had good summers.
09/06/2006
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