I wanted to post an audio file of this song, but I can't figure out how to do it. Anybody have ideas? It's such a beautiful song.
Maybe This Christmas by Ron Sexsmith
Maybe this Christmas will mean something more
Maybe this year
Love will appear
Deeper than ever before
And maybe forgiveness will ask us to call
Someone we love
Someone we’ve lost
For reasons we can’t quite recall
Maybe this Christmas
Maybe there’ll be an open door
Maybe the star that shone before
Will shine once more
And maybe this Christmas will find us at last
In heavenly peace
Grateful at least
For the love we’ve been shown in the past
Maybe this Christmas
So Christmas has come and gone, and maybe the sentiments above are a little old and a little lost now. Maybe not this Christmas. Maybe next year.
31 December 2006
30 December 2006
Go to That Opera Again; Singers Are Only Human
By ANNE MIDGETTE
Published: December 30, 2006, New York Times
The lesson was not about endurance. Opera lovers are generally glad to sit through as many performances of a favorite opera with a strong cast as they can get tickets to. Two measly performances of even a four-hour opera like “Don Carlo” is nothing compared with, say, four hearings of Wagner’s “Lohengrin,” to which I happily subjected myself in my college years.
Rather, the lesson concerned performance. I had heard the mezzo-soprano Bruna Baglioni, who sang the role of Eboli in 1992 at the Prinzregententheater in Munich. She was, on the first night, little short of ghastly. I seem to remember a wobble, vocal unevenness, missed pitches and the kind of war-whoop effect peculiar to a certain type of putatively dramatic singer seeking to convey excitement without the technique to support it.
I thought she was awful. So when I returned two days later, I was rather dreading Eboli’s scenes.
But Ms. Baglioni was absolutely terrific. She marshaled her forces and gave a fantastic, powerful, exciting portrayal.
It is a truism in opera that you’re only as good as your last performance. Human variability is supposed to be one of the exciting things about live music, making it like a high-wire act. Will the tenor successfully negotiate the course? Or will he fall spectacularly, in plain sight of everyone, cracking on a high note (or, as Roberto Alagna infamously did nearly three weeks ago, storming off the stage)?
This mutability has given even superstar singers screaming cases of stage fright. (The soprano Rosa Ponselle used to walk to the Metropolitan Opera as slowly as possible, hoping she might be hit by a bus before she arrived at the theater and had to go onstage and live up to her reputation). And it’s what draws opera fans to attend multiple performances of the same production, to hear what variations may emerge from one night to another.
And still people are prone to snap judgments in a society rife with cultural experiences, where they are chronically challenged in finding time to process them. Another favorite saying in critical circles is that you don’t have to eat the whole egg to know it’s rotten. Yet this saying reveals a tacit, and incorrect, assumption: that live performance can be equated with a book or a film, and that a constantly changing art is comparable to something that is fixed and will be encountered in the same form by everyone who apprehends it.
After I began writing this article, a passionate debate on the same subject erupted in an online discussion forum: how can you presume to judge a singer after a single hearing? It’s a thorny question, particularly for those of us whose job it is to do just that. Had I been reviewing Ms. Baglioni, I would have written a blistering assessment of that first performance and never gone back to learn how wonderful she could be at her best.
Yet anyone who listens to music can cite performers who have varied wildly from one evening to another. I recently reviewed a gifted cellist who on the night I heard him happened to have trouble with his intonation. I’ve been assured that he has been brilliant on other nights.
Or take the tenor Salvatore Licitra, who has by now sung quite a few performances in New York, ranging from brilliant to so-so. Audiences here have had a chance to form their own opinions. Yet when he sang Canio in the Metropolitan Opera’s “Pagliacci” this fall, some of the problem spots in his voice seemed to have improved strikingly: the upper middle, once strained, was strong. He had been working on his approach. Is it still possible for him to change fans’ minds?
Here I might invoke another cliché: performers are only human. And I believe the most appropriate response to the recognition of artists’ human failings is not necessarily to hedge your bets by making allowances, speculating on outside factors that led to their being bad on a given night, or hypothesizing that they might improve with more practice. (It would be equally true, or equally fallacious, to qualify a description of an excellent performance with the observation that the artist could well buckle at the next show.)
Art matters. And if it doesn’t matter enough to provoke strong opinions in the people who passionately love it, it can hardly be expected to awaken responses in anybody else. Indeed, it is vital to the future of the field that music lovers of all kinds remain judgmental and passionately involved; that fans care enough to be upset when someone turns in a dog of a performance, or to defend a favorite performer against charges of inadequacy.
But the corollary is to remember that listeners too are human, and that we too can be wrong. The best acknowledgment of an artist’s human weaknesses, and the mutability of live performance, is to keep your ears open and your judgment suspended. For the lesson I learned from Ms. Baglioni is that if you love music, there is great joy in being proved wrong by an old pro who, versed in Italian style to her fingertips, may not always have it in her to be good but who, when the chips are down, can pull it all together and deliver a fantastic performance.
Published: December 30, 2006, New York Times
The lesson was not about endurance. Opera lovers are generally glad to sit through as many performances of a favorite opera with a strong cast as they can get tickets to. Two measly performances of even a four-hour opera like “Don Carlo” is nothing compared with, say, four hearings of Wagner’s “Lohengrin,” to which I happily subjected myself in my college years.
Rather, the lesson concerned performance. I had heard the mezzo-soprano Bruna Baglioni, who sang the role of Eboli in 1992 at the Prinzregententheater in Munich. She was, on the first night, little short of ghastly. I seem to remember a wobble, vocal unevenness, missed pitches and the kind of war-whoop effect peculiar to a certain type of putatively dramatic singer seeking to convey excitement without the technique to support it.
I thought she was awful. So when I returned two days later, I was rather dreading Eboli’s scenes.
But Ms. Baglioni was absolutely terrific. She marshaled her forces and gave a fantastic, powerful, exciting portrayal.
It is a truism in opera that you’re only as good as your last performance. Human variability is supposed to be one of the exciting things about live music, making it like a high-wire act. Will the tenor successfully negotiate the course? Or will he fall spectacularly, in plain sight of everyone, cracking on a high note (or, as Roberto Alagna infamously did nearly three weeks ago, storming off the stage)?
This mutability has given even superstar singers screaming cases of stage fright. (The soprano Rosa Ponselle used to walk to the Metropolitan Opera as slowly as possible, hoping she might be hit by a bus before she arrived at the theater and had to go onstage and live up to her reputation). And it’s what draws opera fans to attend multiple performances of the same production, to hear what variations may emerge from one night to another.
And still people are prone to snap judgments in a society rife with cultural experiences, where they are chronically challenged in finding time to process them. Another favorite saying in critical circles is that you don’t have to eat the whole egg to know it’s rotten. Yet this saying reveals a tacit, and incorrect, assumption: that live performance can be equated with a book or a film, and that a constantly changing art is comparable to something that is fixed and will be encountered in the same form by everyone who apprehends it.
After I began writing this article, a passionate debate on the same subject erupted in an online discussion forum: how can you presume to judge a singer after a single hearing? It’s a thorny question, particularly for those of us whose job it is to do just that. Had I been reviewing Ms. Baglioni, I would have written a blistering assessment of that first performance and never gone back to learn how wonderful she could be at her best.
Yet anyone who listens to music can cite performers who have varied wildly from one evening to another. I recently reviewed a gifted cellist who on the night I heard him happened to have trouble with his intonation. I’ve been assured that he has been brilliant on other nights.
Or take the tenor Salvatore Licitra, who has by now sung quite a few performances in New York, ranging from brilliant to so-so. Audiences here have had a chance to form their own opinions. Yet when he sang Canio in the Metropolitan Opera’s “Pagliacci” this fall, some of the problem spots in his voice seemed to have improved strikingly: the upper middle, once strained, was strong. He had been working on his approach. Is it still possible for him to change fans’ minds?
Here I might invoke another cliché: performers are only human. And I believe the most appropriate response to the recognition of artists’ human failings is not necessarily to hedge your bets by making allowances, speculating on outside factors that led to their being bad on a given night, or hypothesizing that they might improve with more practice. (It would be equally true, or equally fallacious, to qualify a description of an excellent performance with the observation that the artist could well buckle at the next show.)
Art matters. And if it doesn’t matter enough to provoke strong opinions in the people who passionately love it, it can hardly be expected to awaken responses in anybody else. Indeed, it is vital to the future of the field that music lovers of all kinds remain judgmental and passionately involved; that fans care enough to be upset when someone turns in a dog of a performance, or to defend a favorite performer against charges of inadequacy.
But the corollary is to remember that listeners too are human, and that we too can be wrong. The best acknowledgment of an artist’s human weaknesses, and the mutability of live performance, is to keep your ears open and your judgment suspended. For the lesson I learned from Ms. Baglioni is that if you love music, there is great joy in being proved wrong by an old pro who, versed in Italian style to her fingertips, may not always have it in her to be good but who, when the chips are down, can pull it all together and deliver a fantastic performance.
24 December 2006
19 December 2006
Brain/Death
For a really cool article on a new cutting edge technique in neurosurgery, go here: (pun intended)
www.nytimes.com/2006/12/19/health/19brai.html?ex=157680000&en=ecc223e3a3b470b5&ei=5124&partner=permalink&exprod=permalink
For those of you who aren't up on your neurosurgerical procedures, this blog gets its name from a fascinating operation involving removal of one of the brain's hemispheres - thus, hemispherectomy, or its official title, functional hemispherectomy. For more information on this, read "The Deepest Cut" (The New Yorker, 2006) or watch episode No. ? from Season 1 of Grey's Anatomy, my favorite source for all things medical and all things dreamy.
In other news, somebody had the nerve to die over the weekend and have his funeral in the church this morning, the very morning that I needed to practice for an important audition. Do I lose extra points for cursing a dead man?
www.nytimes.com/2006/12/19/health/19brai.html?ex=157680000&en=ecc223e3a3b470b5&ei=5124&partner=permalink&exprod=permalink
For those of you who aren't up on your neurosurgerical procedures, this blog gets its name from a fascinating operation involving removal of one of the brain's hemispheres - thus, hemispherectomy, or its official title, functional hemispherectomy. For more information on this, read "The Deepest Cut" (The New Yorker, 2006) or watch episode No. ? from Season 1 of Grey's Anatomy, my favorite source for all things medical and all things dreamy.
In other news, somebody had the nerve to die over the weekend and have his funeral in the church this morning, the very morning that I needed to practice for an important audition. Do I lose extra points for cursing a dead man?
17 December 2006
2006: Year in Review
In reviewing the events of 2006, internationally, artistically, personally, I hope to remember the ups, forget the downs, and propel both myself and my readers to greater heights by examining the intricate, sometimes dark, sometimes dazzling worlds around us and within us, and by using this knowledge and inspiration to create a better, more hopeful new year.
Major world advancements: production of the MacBook; discreet use of Polonium
Major problems generally overlooked: Israel's destruction of Lebanon, particularly Beirut; the falling dollar
Best movie: Sophie Scholl--the Final Days (German)
Best American movies: Munich (was this 2006?), The Constant Gardener (2006?), Little Miss Sunshine
Best TV show: Grey's Anatomy
Best eye-candy: Patrick Dempsey (Dr. McDreamy)
Most interesting article: The Deepest Cut (The New Yorker, July 3)
Best fiction I read this year: Lolita (Vladimir Nabokov); The Idiot (Fyodor Dostoevsky); Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell (Susannah Clarke)
Best poetry I read this year: Extravagaria (Pablo Neruda)
Best non-fiction I read this year: The Glenn Gould Reader (Glenn Gould)
Best movie not released in 2006 I saw this year: Camille Claudel (French)
Best performance of the year: Macbeth--Shakespeare in the Park (Central Park, New York, starring Jennifer Ehle in a compelling, frightening, and beautiful performance as Lady Macbeth)
Best music of the year (CDs and concerts): none - altogether a disappointment, though I suppose that the La Scala scandal recently wins for most exciting. Also, Yoni's debut at Alice Tully was noteworthy.
New skills: horseback-riding; white-water rafting; soldering
Performances of: Bach, Couperin, Schubert, Schumann-Liszt, Wagner-Liszt, Dallapiccola, Brahms, Gershwin, Trapanese, Mahler, Mozart, Barber, improvisations by me at a ballet performance (interesting experience)
New Repertoire: Bach 4th Partita, Couperin Le Gazouillement, Beethoven Sonata Op. 109, Schubert C minor Sonata D958, Schumann Etudes Symphoniques, Dallapiccola Quaderno Musicale di Annalibera, Brahms 1st Violin/Piano Sonata, songs by Mahler and Mozart, Sextet by Joe Trapanese (one can only hope to be better next year...this is dismal...)
Literary output: 1 sonnet, a blog
Major personal accomplishment: graduation from college
Observations from abroad: Germans aren't very nice. This is why my friends here are American, Italian, French, Korean, and what I like to call "international."
Travels: New York, California, Connecticut; Berlin, Prague, Amsterdam
Life-changing event: International Keyboard Festival at Mannes
Combination most shocking/proudest moment: when Matt won the post in the New York Philharmonic
New Year's Resolution(s):
1. A more intense work ethic focusing on quality, hard work, and a more prolific output of everything in the above categories
2. To complain less and appreciate more
Quote of the Day: "The only way to do something wonderful is to work hard." - a member of the Minnesota Symphony
Quote of the Year: "I'm going to KILL you." (teacher)
no, wait...
"If you don't graduate from MSM, I'm going to KILL you." (mother)
no, wrong again...
"I'm in love with you." (McDreamy)
ok, seriously...
"Think of all the inferior composers. They weren't bad people." (Dr. Andreacchi, Piano Literature class - I may disagree with this pronouncement)
"Fraternities allow you to get drunk and throw up in an organized way." (Dr. Barone, Early German Romantisicm class)
Why Nabokov is the best writer I've ever read (excerpts from Lolita):
"I could not kill her, of course, as some have thought. You see, I loved her. It was love at first sight, at last sight, at ever and ever sight."
"Somewhere beyond Bill's shack an afterwork radio had begun singing of folly and fate, and there she was with her ruined looks, and her adult, rope-veined narrow hands and her goose-flesh white arms, and her shallow ears, an her unkempt armpits, there she was (my Lolita!), hopelessly worn at seventeen...and I looked and looked at her, and knew as clearly as I know I am to die, that I loved her more than anything I had ever seen or imagined on earth, or hoped for anywhere else."
Serious Quote of the Year:
"I thank you for the gift of life. If I consider matters properly now, it was nothing other than the road to God. I am preceding you by a little, to prepare you a splendid reception." - Christoph Probst, Feb. 22, 1943, written in a letter to his mother on the day he was executed by the Nazis for his participation in the German resistance group The White Rose
Remembrance of the Year: A great pianist, my favorite pianist ever:
"My last memory of [Glenn] Gould will always be one from our final meeting, on a chilly August evening in Toronto a little more than a month before he died. At 3:00 a.m. we drove to a deserted midtown recording studio, where, clad in his usual indoor summer wear--two sweaters, wool shirt, scarf, slouch hat--he relaxed at the keyboard of a Yamaha baby grand and played through his own piano arrangements of Richard Strauss operas. The Yamaha suddenly became a six-foot-square orchestra: dense contrapuntal lines, translucently clear and perfectly contoured, echoed through the empty room. Far from the eyes and ears of the curious world, the hungry fans and disapproving critics, the lucrative contracts and percentage deals, Gould played through the night, lost in the sheer joy of creating something beautiful." - Tim Page
Lest we forget, I re-quote something I posted on this blog awhile ago:
"I believe that the justification of art is the internal combustion it ignites in the hearts of men and not its shallow, externalized, public manifestations. The purpose of art is not the release of a momentary ejection of adrenaline but is, rather, the gradual, life-long construction of a state of wonder and serenity."
- Glenn Gould
(this being said (by him, of course), it's very amusing to hear him swear in the recording outtakes)
Major world advancements: production of the MacBook; discreet use of Polonium
Major problems generally overlooked: Israel's destruction of Lebanon, particularly Beirut; the falling dollar
Best movie: Sophie Scholl--the Final Days (German)
Best American movies: Munich (was this 2006?), The Constant Gardener (2006?), Little Miss Sunshine
Best TV show: Grey's Anatomy
Best eye-candy: Patrick Dempsey (Dr. McDreamy)
Most interesting article: The Deepest Cut (The New Yorker, July 3)
Best fiction I read this year: Lolita (Vladimir Nabokov); The Idiot (Fyodor Dostoevsky); Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell (Susannah Clarke)
Best poetry I read this year: Extravagaria (Pablo Neruda)
Best non-fiction I read this year: The Glenn Gould Reader (Glenn Gould)
Best movie not released in 2006 I saw this year: Camille Claudel (French)
Best performance of the year: Macbeth--Shakespeare in the Park (Central Park, New York, starring Jennifer Ehle in a compelling, frightening, and beautiful performance as Lady Macbeth)
Best music of the year (CDs and concerts): none - altogether a disappointment, though I suppose that the La Scala scandal recently wins for most exciting. Also, Yoni's debut at Alice Tully was noteworthy.
New skills: horseback-riding; white-water rafting; soldering
Performances of: Bach, Couperin, Schubert, Schumann-Liszt, Wagner-Liszt, Dallapiccola, Brahms, Gershwin, Trapanese, Mahler, Mozart, Barber, improvisations by me at a ballet performance (interesting experience)
New Repertoire: Bach 4th Partita, Couperin Le Gazouillement, Beethoven Sonata Op. 109, Schubert C minor Sonata D958, Schumann Etudes Symphoniques, Dallapiccola Quaderno Musicale di Annalibera, Brahms 1st Violin/Piano Sonata, songs by Mahler and Mozart, Sextet by Joe Trapanese (one can only hope to be better next year...this is dismal...)
Literary output: 1 sonnet, a blog
Major personal accomplishment: graduation from college
Observations from abroad: Germans aren't very nice. This is why my friends here are American, Italian, French, Korean, and what I like to call "international."
Travels: New York, California, Connecticut; Berlin, Prague, Amsterdam
Life-changing event: International Keyboard Festival at Mannes
Combination most shocking/proudest moment: when Matt won the post in the New York Philharmonic
New Year's Resolution(s):
1. A more intense work ethic focusing on quality, hard work, and a more prolific output of everything in the above categories
2. To complain less and appreciate more
Quote of the Day: "The only way to do something wonderful is to work hard." - a member of the Minnesota Symphony
Quote of the Year: "I'm going to KILL you." (teacher)
no, wait...
"If you don't graduate from MSM, I'm going to KILL you." (mother)
no, wrong again...
"I'm in love with you." (McDreamy)
ok, seriously...
"Think of all the inferior composers. They weren't bad people." (Dr. Andreacchi, Piano Literature class - I may disagree with this pronouncement)
"Fraternities allow you to get drunk and throw up in an organized way." (Dr. Barone, Early German Romantisicm class)
Why Nabokov is the best writer I've ever read (excerpts from Lolita):
"I could not kill her, of course, as some have thought. You see, I loved her. It was love at first sight, at last sight, at ever and ever sight."
"Somewhere beyond Bill's shack an afterwork radio had begun singing of folly and fate, and there she was with her ruined looks, and her adult, rope-veined narrow hands and her goose-flesh white arms, and her shallow ears, an her unkempt armpits, there she was (my Lolita!), hopelessly worn at seventeen...and I looked and looked at her, and knew as clearly as I know I am to die, that I loved her more than anything I had ever seen or imagined on earth, or hoped for anywhere else."
Serious Quote of the Year:
"I thank you for the gift of life. If I consider matters properly now, it was nothing other than the road to God. I am preceding you by a little, to prepare you a splendid reception." - Christoph Probst, Feb. 22, 1943, written in a letter to his mother on the day he was executed by the Nazis for his participation in the German resistance group The White Rose
Remembrance of the Year: A great pianist, my favorite pianist ever:
"My last memory of [Glenn] Gould will always be one from our final meeting, on a chilly August evening in Toronto a little more than a month before he died. At 3:00 a.m. we drove to a deserted midtown recording studio, where, clad in his usual indoor summer wear--two sweaters, wool shirt, scarf, slouch hat--he relaxed at the keyboard of a Yamaha baby grand and played through his own piano arrangements of Richard Strauss operas. The Yamaha suddenly became a six-foot-square orchestra: dense contrapuntal lines, translucently clear and perfectly contoured, echoed through the empty room. Far from the eyes and ears of the curious world, the hungry fans and disapproving critics, the lucrative contracts and percentage deals, Gould played through the night, lost in the sheer joy of creating something beautiful." - Tim Page
Lest we forget, I re-quote something I posted on this blog awhile ago:
"I believe that the justification of art is the internal combustion it ignites in the hearts of men and not its shallow, externalized, public manifestations. The purpose of art is not the release of a momentary ejection of adrenaline but is, rather, the gradual, life-long construction of a state of wonder and serenity."
- Glenn Gould
(this being said (by him, of course), it's very amusing to hear him swear in the recording outtakes)
15 December 2006
Addition to the Hit List
So I didn't think it could possibly get worse.
And then after a Thursday with no opportunity to practice (choir rehearsals and yoga classes drove me far, far from the church), driven by the fear of another lesson this weekend, I decided I would try again at 10pm after the last choir rehearsal. At 9:30, a half hour early, I practiced a bit on the upright (free for the first time that day - the yoga room, the daycare room, the voice coaching room), waiting for the sanctuary and the grand piano to be free at 10. Finally the choir leaves. I walk downstairs, anticipating a night with the piano all to myself, and I open the door...and there, seated at the harpsichord, is an ancient man tuning the thing. Oh fine, I think, and stomp back upstairs to the upright. Tuning a harpsichord can't take all that long can it? I remember the tuner at MSM, and she didn't take too terribly long. I think maybe an hour ought to do it.
No. Exasperated and sick of the upright, I finally left the church over 3 hours later, at 1:30am, and the old man was STILL tuning the harpsichord. The worst part? It was still out of tune. What was he doing in there? WHAT was he DOING in there for all that TIME??? I mean SERIOUSLY. Somebody out there hates me.
And then after a Thursday with no opportunity to practice (choir rehearsals and yoga classes drove me far, far from the church), driven by the fear of another lesson this weekend, I decided I would try again at 10pm after the last choir rehearsal. At 9:30, a half hour early, I practiced a bit on the upright (free for the first time that day - the yoga room, the daycare room, the voice coaching room), waiting for the sanctuary and the grand piano to be free at 10. Finally the choir leaves. I walk downstairs, anticipating a night with the piano all to myself, and I open the door...and there, seated at the harpsichord, is an ancient man tuning the thing. Oh fine, I think, and stomp back upstairs to the upright. Tuning a harpsichord can't take all that long can it? I remember the tuner at MSM, and she didn't take too terribly long. I think maybe an hour ought to do it.
No. Exasperated and sick of the upright, I finally left the church over 3 hours later, at 1:30am, and the old man was STILL tuning the harpsichord. The worst part? It was still out of tune. What was he doing in there? WHAT was he DOING in there for all that TIME??? I mean SERIOUSLY. Somebody out there hates me.
14 December 2006
Motivation
Today I have no motivation. None. Being sick doesn't help. I get out of the routine. And I just realized that practicing is going to be impossible for the next 3 days unless I drastically change my sleeping pattern.
I have to get out of this chair...I will not allow myself to go back to bed and watch DVDs...but that sounds so nice. Augh. I'm so lazy.
GET TO WORK!!!!! NO!!!!! YES!!!!! NOOOOOOOO!!!!!
I WANT A VACATION!!!!!! From what? Seriously. Vacations are for sissies.
A nice piano all to myself for hours and hours would be lovely motivation. Sadly, nothing like that around here.
I have to get out of this chair...I will not allow myself to go back to bed and watch DVDs...but that sounds so nice. Augh. I'm so lazy.
GET TO WORK!!!!! NO!!!!! YES!!!!! NOOOOOOOO!!!!!
I WANT A VACATION!!!!!! From what? Seriously. Vacations are for sissies.
A nice piano all to myself for hours and hours would be lovely motivation. Sadly, nothing like that around here.
12 December 2006
This land is my land....
This is a very weird city.
BERLIN, Germany (Reuters) -- German animal rights activists have launched a campaign against plans to put up a giant ferris wheel in Berlin, saying it would disturb the sex lives of rhinos in a nearby zoo.
A group of investors has unveiled plans to erect a 175-meter high wheel for 120 million euros ($158.9 million) in the German capital, hoping to attract millions of visitors from 2008.
But animal rights activists oppose the project, saying the fully-illuminated wheel would disturb the rhinos' daily routine.
"We're worried that these endangered animals won't breed any more, which would hamper animal protection programs," Berlin's animal rights association said in a statement.
The planned Berlin wheel would be higher than the London Eye, which claims to be the world's tallest observation wheel at 135 meters, according to its Web site.
BERLIN, Germany (Reuters) -- German animal rights activists have launched a campaign against plans to put up a giant ferris wheel in Berlin, saying it would disturb the sex lives of rhinos in a nearby zoo.
A group of investors has unveiled plans to erect a 175-meter high wheel for 120 million euros ($158.9 million) in the German capital, hoping to attract millions of visitors from 2008.
But animal rights activists oppose the project, saying the fully-illuminated wheel would disturb the rhinos' daily routine.
"We're worried that these endangered animals won't breed any more, which would hamper animal protection programs," Berlin's animal rights association said in a statement.
The planned Berlin wheel would be higher than the London Eye, which claims to be the world's tallest observation wheel at 135 meters, according to its Web site.
11 December 2006
Jump on the bandwagon, kids! Everyone's doing it!
That's right. Follow my lead and move to Berlin. Today I received emails from two friends, a Norwegian and a Californian, saying that Berlin is on the horizon. The Norwegian is a definite, in January, and the Californian...well, give her several months.
Finally, I lead the bandwagon. I drive the bandwagon. This is my band. Wagon. Piano. Whatever. VW? My dad drives a bug.
09 December 2006
By George, I've got it!
Maybe I should become a squatter! It's better than being a prisoner, I think, though I might become one in the process. Glenn Gould would be proud.
Now if only Michelle would move here so we could cause trouble together.... :)
Now if only Michelle would move here so we could cause trouble together.... :)
The Code
There is an unspoken code amongst musicians, a code governing behavior and social manners between colleagues. Every musician knows it and most follow its rules. For the benefit of non-musician readers, I will enumerate the main points below - if anybody would like to add to the list, please comment. (These are across-the-board valid for all musicians relating to one-another with the exception of a teacher-student relationship or between musicians who are good friends).
1. Never, never, never ask a fellow musician how much he or she practices. This is a very personal question, a very touchy subject. It's like asking, "How much do you weigh?" It's absolutely none of your business. Besides, it's more important how a person practices than how much. Some people need more time to accomplish what others can do more quickly. Of course, the best musicians combine the how and the how much, and in 8 hours, get done what mere mortals can't do in a week. To each his own.
2. Don't volunteer information about how much you practice. That's just rude. Nobody cares, and nobody is impressed. You're probably lying anyway.
3. Nobody wants to hear all the technical exercises you do. "I play the complete Hanon in a different key every day." Yeah, nobody cares. And you're probably lying. If you want a high-horse, be a gymnast.
4. Don't give unsolicited advice. If they don't ask, they don't care. "You should play the complete Hanon in a different key every day." Who are you, my teacher? Um, no.
5. Occasionally, if the conversation progresses in a civilized way, it's ok to ask current repertoire. But you have to cough up your current repertoire too. Please remember that personal anecdotes and stories about how you learned and performed Carnaval in 4 days are prohibited. Unless you want people to hate you.
6. If all the above problems have been avoided and the conversation is moving along nicely, civily, respectfully, and both people are interested, it's ok to talk about the interval span of one's hand. "How much can you reach?" is an more or less a neutral question. Everyone's hands are different, and everyone must come up with unique solutions for unique hands.
Again, in a teacher/student relationship, all this changes. A teacher should give advice--should make demands--and should ask all the tough questions, especially the "how much are you practicing" question, though usually it's clear by the playing; a student, in return, should be able to ask the teacher those "how" and "how much" questions. Also, musicians who are friends and need each other for support and inspiration may cross the line every once in awhile since it's not about bragging but about helping.
I don't know how much any of my friends practice, except that it's a lot. I don't ask; I don't need to know. And they don't ask me. We know the code. We follow it. However, it was my recent misfortune to encounter someone who crossed the line, someone who should've known better. It's insulting, offensive, and eliminates the benefit of the doubt we usually extend to new acquaintances. Maybe it doesn't seem like a big deal to non-musicians, but it is. The code-breakers are the type who put razor blades between the piano keys.
----
Moving on, I listened to some recordings of mine from ages 17, 19, and 20, and it alarms me a bit to say that I like my playing back then better than I like my playing now. Especially at age 17. I was much closer to my aesthetic ideal back then. I think conservatory derailed me into main-stream thinking for 4 years. Somehow I've got to get back. Back in the old days, my Bach was a pretty good (if mild) imitation of Glenn Gould - and you know what? It sounded really good. Now...now it's just a mush of half-piano style, half-harpsichord style, half-nothing style, a battlefield of differing opinions. I sound like nothing because I can't make up my mind.
I also listened to some chamber music recordings from the past couple years. I miss my girls, Sara, Rena, Joanne, Gaby. Making music is so much fun with someone else. Those were special times. These days making music is a lot of work. My lessons are fun, sometimes, when I'm not terrified or he's not kicking my butt. Then we start laughing and can't stop. A threatening comment like "I'm going to KILL you if..." usually sobers things up. Actually, he's one of the most wonderful, generous people I've ever come across, not to mention a fantastic pianist and teacher. I'm very lucky.
----
Tonight I babysat two adorable, clever little American-German boys, ages 6 and 9. We played soccer for a long time in their attic, and the older boy showed me all sorts of tricks. Sometimes I wonder if I never developed beyond the 4th grade. There's something to be said for sweet little kids who just like you because. Because nothing. Just because. I like them too, just because.
1. Never, never, never ask a fellow musician how much he or she practices. This is a very personal question, a very touchy subject. It's like asking, "How much do you weigh?" It's absolutely none of your business. Besides, it's more important how a person practices than how much. Some people need more time to accomplish what others can do more quickly. Of course, the best musicians combine the how and the how much, and in 8 hours, get done what mere mortals can't do in a week. To each his own.
2. Don't volunteer information about how much you practice. That's just rude. Nobody cares, and nobody is impressed. You're probably lying anyway.
3. Nobody wants to hear all the technical exercises you do. "I play the complete Hanon in a different key every day." Yeah, nobody cares. And you're probably lying. If you want a high-horse, be a gymnast.
4. Don't give unsolicited advice. If they don't ask, they don't care. "You should play the complete Hanon in a different key every day." Who are you, my teacher? Um, no.
5. Occasionally, if the conversation progresses in a civilized way, it's ok to ask current repertoire. But you have to cough up your current repertoire too. Please remember that personal anecdotes and stories about how you learned and performed Carnaval in 4 days are prohibited. Unless you want people to hate you.
6. If all the above problems have been avoided and the conversation is moving along nicely, civily, respectfully, and both people are interested, it's ok to talk about the interval span of one's hand. "How much can you reach?" is an more or less a neutral question. Everyone's hands are different, and everyone must come up with unique solutions for unique hands.
Again, in a teacher/student relationship, all this changes. A teacher should give advice--should make demands--and should ask all the tough questions, especially the "how much are you practicing" question, though usually it's clear by the playing; a student, in return, should be able to ask the teacher those "how" and "how much" questions. Also, musicians who are friends and need each other for support and inspiration may cross the line every once in awhile since it's not about bragging but about helping.
I don't know how much any of my friends practice, except that it's a lot. I don't ask; I don't need to know. And they don't ask me. We know the code. We follow it. However, it was my recent misfortune to encounter someone who crossed the line, someone who should've known better. It's insulting, offensive, and eliminates the benefit of the doubt we usually extend to new acquaintances. Maybe it doesn't seem like a big deal to non-musicians, but it is. The code-breakers are the type who put razor blades between the piano keys.
----
Moving on, I listened to some recordings of mine from ages 17, 19, and 20, and it alarms me a bit to say that I like my playing back then better than I like my playing now. Especially at age 17. I was much closer to my aesthetic ideal back then. I think conservatory derailed me into main-stream thinking for 4 years. Somehow I've got to get back. Back in the old days, my Bach was a pretty good (if mild) imitation of Glenn Gould - and you know what? It sounded really good. Now...now it's just a mush of half-piano style, half-harpsichord style, half-nothing style, a battlefield of differing opinions. I sound like nothing because I can't make up my mind.
I also listened to some chamber music recordings from the past couple years. I miss my girls, Sara, Rena, Joanne, Gaby. Making music is so much fun with someone else. Those were special times. These days making music is a lot of work. My lessons are fun, sometimes, when I'm not terrified or he's not kicking my butt. Then we start laughing and can't stop. A threatening comment like "I'm going to KILL you if..." usually sobers things up. Actually, he's one of the most wonderful, generous people I've ever come across, not to mention a fantastic pianist and teacher. I'm very lucky.
----
Tonight I babysat two adorable, clever little American-German boys, ages 6 and 9. We played soccer for a long time in their attic, and the older boy showed me all sorts of tricks. Sometimes I wonder if I never developed beyond the 4th grade. There's something to be said for sweet little kids who just like you because. Because nothing. Just because. I like them too, just because.
07 December 2006
Trumpet Tragedies, Queen of Nightmares, and God
Just when you thought things were starting to get boring....
http://www.billandellie.com/sounds/TrumpetBloopers.htm
Also includes that not-to-be-missed Queen of the Night by the notoriously esteemed Florence Foster Jenkins. Really, your life is not complete until you hear this recording.
To cleanse the palate, watch God play the violin. Go here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gwEbOoVIwak
http://www.billandellie.com/sounds/TrumpetBloopers.htm
Also includes that not-to-be-missed Queen of the Night by the notoriously esteemed Florence Foster Jenkins. Really, your life is not complete until you hear this recording.
To cleanse the palate, watch God play the violin. Go here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gwEbOoVIwak
05 December 2006
B.S.
That's right. B.S. This country is full of B.S. I've just about had it.
1. Beethoven and Schumann. Last December, I was battling Bach and Schubert. Stupid German composers.
2. Boys Suck. Last December: Boyfriends Suck. Know what else sucks? The price of the Euro. When I first arrived, not even three months ago, 1 Euro = 1.25 Dollars. Now, 1 Euro = 1.33 Dollars.
3. Yesterday, somebody took the plastic bag covering my Bike Seat. Yep, a Bag Stealer. In a rainstorm. That's just mean.
4. Lest I forgot what country I'm in, I had a Gestapo agent as my visa interviewer yesterday morning at 7:30am. He made up all sorts of rules that none of the other Americans I know with visas had even heard of. Result? No visa. He wouldn't give me a visa. I didn't get a visa. They let all those Muslim terrorists into Germany, they let all those unsavory Turks invade Berlin, but they won't give me a student visa. Talk about BULLSHIT.
Seriously. All I want is my own apartment with a kitchen and a piano. And a visa. Is this really too much to ask? SERIOUSLY.
1. Beethoven and Schumann. Last December, I was battling Bach and Schubert. Stupid German composers.
2. Boys Suck. Last December: Boyfriends Suck. Know what else sucks? The price of the Euro. When I first arrived, not even three months ago, 1 Euro = 1.25 Dollars. Now, 1 Euro = 1.33 Dollars.
3. Yesterday, somebody took the plastic bag covering my Bike Seat. Yep, a Bag Stealer. In a rainstorm. That's just mean.
4. Lest I forgot what country I'm in, I had a Gestapo agent as my visa interviewer yesterday morning at 7:30am. He made up all sorts of rules that none of the other Americans I know with visas had even heard of. Result? No visa. He wouldn't give me a visa. I didn't get a visa. They let all those Muslim terrorists into Germany, they let all those unsavory Turks invade Berlin, but they won't give me a student visa. Talk about BULLSHIT.
Seriously. All I want is my own apartment with a kitchen and a piano. And a visa. Is this really too much to ask? SERIOUSLY.
03 December 2006
Pianist as Psychologist
Dear Greg,
My love life sucks. I haven't been on a date in over a year. I find the piano more interesting than any of the guys I've met lately. What should I do?
Desolate in Deutschland
Dear Desolate,
Good grief! I'm not a psychologist, nor do I pretend to be!
Regardless, I can offer you two bits of common sense. 1) Be authentic. If you'd rather interest yourself with the piano, no one's stopping you. If you'd rather be out on dates, get yourself out there. 2) The piano is there to enhance real life, not supplant it.
Now, if your some reason, you are intimating that pianists (myself included) are stuck in the practice room and have no love lives, I suggest you reconsider! "Us Weekly" could easily devote an entire issue to the torrid romantic records of the great pianists.
-Greg
(www.andersonpiano.com/interact/ask.html)
My love life sucks. I haven't been on a date in over a year. I find the piano more interesting than any of the guys I've met lately. What should I do?
Desolate in Deutschland
Dear Desolate,
Good grief! I'm not a psychologist, nor do I pretend to be!
Regardless, I can offer you two bits of common sense. 1) Be authentic. If you'd rather interest yourself with the piano, no one's stopping you. If you'd rather be out on dates, get yourself out there. 2) The piano is there to enhance real life, not supplant it.
Now, if your some reason, you are intimating that pianists (myself included) are stuck in the practice room and have no love lives, I suggest you reconsider! "Us Weekly" could easily devote an entire issue to the torrid romantic records of the great pianists.
-Greg
(www.andersonpiano.com/interact/ask.html)
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