Eastman's glorious new organ in the NY Times

In a small way, I helped Munetaka Yokota voice this gorgeous instrument. Admittedly, I got a lot more out of the experience than he did. Nevertheless I feel very connected to it and am so pleased to see it garner national attention.

architectural form

Chip was right... it is quite telling that amongst the renderings and floor plans for the Eastman Theatre addition (still questionably called "completing George Eastman's vision"), a full photo of Doug Lowry takes center stage. A highly architectural photo, I might add.

rochacha

Easy as it is to dismiss my former hometown, there are definitely things I miss about it. Not about living there, but the delightful parts of living there. Most of these aspects of Rochester have their corollaries here, but to my surprise that doesn't make them replaceable. Most of all, of course, I miss the organ culture. That can hardly be replaced anywhere.

clavichordium

It would appear that I've passed my clavichord jury to good approval--just about the last outcome I was expecting. I must admit that every time I'm forced to practice it seriously, I develop a fondness for the instrument. After a break from bad habits and confusion, my technique has certainly improved this year. With the instrument's sensitivity as more friend than foe (though it will probably always retain the characters of both), I'm finding the clavichord rather satisfying to play. Perhaps one day I'll have one for myself... it will be cheaper than an organ after all.

Un Sport Combat

It has become patently clear to me that I cannot interact with people who act primarily on intuition, even if I admire them greatly. A lot makes sense now.

My long search is perhaps coming to an end -- Pierre Carles' documentary on Pierre Bourdieu, "La Sociologie est un sport de combat," will be released on DVD in December with multilingual subtitles. I hope, hope, hope some retailer will offer it. Amazon isn't planning to, so I'm a bit distressed. I'm pretty clueless when it comes to shopping for TV-type things.

I have surprised myself again by writing an extended essay without a conclusive thesis in mind (I wasn't decided between one possible thesis and its opposite) and without the mental coherence to consciously develop a big picture, and yet ending up with a relatively coherently argued paper. I suppose all those years with CyberEdit reorganizing bad essays did me some good. It was exciting to finally get to analyze an electronic musical work, to feel like I was doing something new to me that employed the skills I've spent five years developing. I hope Professor Watkins buys it.

"What? What? Am I seeing things?"

In my short life so far, those are some of the few words I've uttered loudly and unabashedly to myself and myself alone. I am flipping through Kerala's The Organ as a Mirror of its Time on a whim, idly wondering if an article in it might be obliquely related to my 19th-century carillon/organ research into Bollée, Cavaillé-Coll, etc. And what should my eyes fall on when I flip to Owen's "Technology and the organ in the 19th century," but

"...in Birmingham, [Hill's] all-mechanical action was so stiff and heavy that... Cavaillé-Coll compared the Birmingham action to that of a carillon."

I feel as if I'm just awakening from a shock and a fainting spell. Was this M. Aristide's conjecture or did he try a carillon somewhere? Bollée's at the Exposition or later in Perpignan? Better yet, elsewhere??? Perhaps I ought to take Erica's advice and write to Douglass. Perhaps I also need to map out CC's travels to figure out where he might have encountered carillons. There is more to this story than meets the eye.

And to think that this piece of the puzzle came to me from Hans Davidsson.

You know your life is absurdly busy when you come to the realization that for two weeks you've desperately been wishing for the luxury of having the time to do your laundry.

A poster for the kickoff Humanities Project lecture in exchange for a seat at Humanities Project meetings. Works for me.

swing

Getting back into the swing of things. The Eastman organ department has a snazzy new front page featuring a newsletter for which I've written two articles (one misattributed in the current PDF). I've caught up with Joe and heard about the more colorful events of the summer series (including foreigners' predilection for the Dinosaur BBQ and its attendant Harleys), claimed my key to our dedicated and newly painted carillon practice room, and am working with him to get new mics in the belfry with Paul's help. I've got Henk Bading's "Aria Hexafonica" down pat after once practice session. Paul Takahashi's "Jumper Ralley" is proving much more intractable, however. And don't even get me started on "Een Aangename Voois." Nevertheless, I've submitted my rather ambitious concert program for Berea today, so there's only one way to go. Fantastic preparation for the EROI carillon concert, if you want to look at it that way.

the ESM hotcake?

Bull. Did the Kaplan/Newsweek College Guide actually talk to more than one ESM student before selecting Eastman as the "Hottest Music School," in part for "students’ ability to take additional academic classes in the University’s College of Arts, Sciences, and Engineering?"

Eastman is heaven for instrumentalists, but students also get to study at the University of Rochester, of which it is a part. It's perfect for aspiring musicians who don't want to sacrifice academics. That's why bassist Erin McPeck of Aurora, Colo., chose Eastman; she's now planning a scholarly career in music research while working as a physics teaching intern at Rochester and participating in Eastman's Institute for Music Leadership. Applications were up 10 percent this year, more than the national average.

This makes me wonder how useful any of Newsweek's claims are. Coincidentally, I'm listening to Jeff Brenzel's Yale podcast on "Undergraduate Admissions" with two insider POVs (being a former employee of the booming college admissions consulting industry and an admissions interviewer) and some recent grains of salt from recent reading.

lame libraries

Pardon my density, but what exactly is the point of a library book drop that is inaccessible when the library is closed?

Thanks, Sibley. I suppose however that this is a Rochester tradition. The BofA ATM near the Metro Mall is only accessible during business hours, which partially defeats the purpose of it not being manned. In some ways this place is worse than Belgium when it comes to opening hours.

Rochester is the only hometown that has refused to issue me a library card without proof of residency such as an electric bill. Since I don't normally carry electricity bills around with me (and in fact have never seen one because it's included in our rent), I still don't have a library card after 9 months here. Also lame.

Score!

I got it! A cool $1,600 from the Catherine Filene Shouse Arts Leadership Program to intern at the Roosevelt Academy in beautiful Zeeland, the Netherlands and earn credit towards my ALP Certificate for it. Add that to my first Women in Music Festival meeting this morning, and I have to admit I do like the ALP a lot. Students can make of it what they want... and I happen to want a lot. 8) Thank you Ms Shouse!

Anyone down for a World Naked Bike Ride?

art & music

Today I had the privilege of playing two short demonstration recitals on the Italian Baroque Organ at the Memorial Art Gallery. Surprisingly, the people from the smaller group seemed most interested and moved by the affair, asking specific questions afterwards about the repertoire I'd played -- Arvo Pärt's "Trivium" and even the "Cuaderno de Tonos de Maitines" of Sor María Clara. It meant so much to me that this music sparked their imaginations and curiosity. I hope I can make a career out of doing things like this more often. (Perhaps with a little more preparation.) I wasn't ready to tie the music in with the artworks I'd chosen, and I didn't have a handout... but I did the best I could, and it seemed to be just fine.

conflict

So I was one of eight students nominated for consideration for an expenses-paid trip to "Convening Student Perspectives and Creating New Models for the 21st Century" at the Shepherd School of Music in October. And of course the conference coincides directly with the EROI Festival. At least I know there's no shortage of things to do next year. Ha. Ha.

In a way, I'm relieved to be forced to decline the nomination. Accepting it would make me feel sleazy. I've been frustrated at the lack of democratic processes here concerning opportunities like this. Many important things seem to happen by nomination rather than by request for interest and applications. I suppose this streamlines the process for the school and avoids situations in which nobody applies. However, it also perpetuates the current lack of interest in applying for or even thinking about participating in important non-performance activities. A vicious cycle.

For heaven's sake, I need to stop griping about my school and just accept that I have better things to do than worry about it or dream up ways in which it could be better. There are many other problems in the world that need improvement more severely than the atmosphere here.

The weather changes every twenty minutes, going from thunderclaps and high winds to peace and sunlight before one has a chance to note the difference. Much like the changing facets of the shimmering gem I envisioned Franck's Prelude, Fugue et Variation to be in order to visualize its constantly morphing shades of mood, flitting from momentary hope to darkening disappointment but restless, never settling.

on the eve of jury

Today was my day off. Tomorrow it will be over.

Why did the Kremeratica Baltica feature in the so-called Mosaic Series at Eastman to play yet more Beethoven, Schumann, and Korngold? They threw in Piazzolla as a bone at the end, but let's face it, spectacular as he is, Piazzolla isn't all that edgy. And I've decided that Kremer must be quite an insufferable megalomaniac for running the ensemble the way he does (and from the way he dominates the ensemble's bio).

Then again, am I so different from him? I want campanological rather than string minions. At heart, we're all the same. We all want minions.

Finally received my graduate award letter. My pay and time has been increased slightly, thanks to Allan's conveying an idea of the real number of hours we do, meaning I'll actually be able to pay the rent next year. Imagine that!

Took home more colors of vegetables from the public market this morning than I've had in my fridge in a long time. Sunlight improves quality of life vastly.

And today it is. Here goes nothing.

I like Arnie's political advice to politicians not jumping on the environmental bandwagon: "Your political base will melt away as surely as the polar ice caps -- I can guarantee you of that. You will become a political penguin on a smaller and smaller ice floe, drifting out to sea. Goodbye, my little friend."

It seems odd that a few days later, one would find the headline "Penguins rally past Senators" in Sports Illustrated.

put on the spot

Organ and electronics and contemporary carillon music? Didn't Randy and I organize that first? What are the likes of Michael Nyman and the Minster bell ringers copying us?

But seriously, I'd love to hear and track down Nyman's piece to see if it's possible to perform it on the carillon. I remember an mp3 with "carillon" in the title attributed to him that I must have deleted, not believing its provenance. It wasn't a carillon piece. But clearly he has an interest in bells... *gears in head start turning*

Dr. Porter put me in the Colloquium spotlight for the first time tonight, coincidentally choosing the pieces I had played from memory in previous studio classes as examples in his "guest lecture" on memorizing pieces. I had, of course, put my organ shoes away, but to my surprise, I was completely calm, accurate, and even expressive playing the first few phrases of Franck's "Prelude, Fugue & Variation" in 3-inch heel boots in front of forty organists. Good confidence-building preparation for Monday, when I meet my doom conducting the anthem and, by the way, conducting anything for the first time in my life. In front of some of the best teachers and students of this matter in the country. Maybe if I wear boots, it'll get me through the trial.

BWV 545
Fugue = OK, still not in my motor memory so conceptual grasp didn't always translate into performance
Prelude = Thumbs down. Not sure if it's my motor memory or conceptual memory that failed me.

Nevertheless, I take a certain pride in at least having attempted these things from memory, something that hasn't been done too frequently in our studio class. Now if only my attempts could be as successful on stage as they are in our organ cubicles.

Dr. Porter called Sally at the beginning of improv class. She was in good spirits as always, even sharp enough to remember at the moment she was put on the phone with me by surprise to thank me for the postcard I'd sent her over the summer (which I'd actually forgotten). What a lady.

One thing I wish I could emulate about Dr. Porter, Sally, and others is by-the-seat-of-your-pants thoughtfulness. When I announced the Xmas carillon concert, Dr. Porter jumped in to encourage everyone to read the Currents carillon article, which I hadn't even thought to mention. I ought to have mentioned to Sally that I had received her email in September with appreciation, but put on the spot, especially over the phone (which I will reiterate to anyone upset at me about it that I have great difficulty talking on the phone), I was rather speechless.

blackbirds

Cycling back from the River Campus along the scenic portion of the Genesee Riverway Trail, I was overtaken by a flock of black birds. They were flying in the same direction as I was going, and looking up at them, I felt pulled along almost as if I was one of them. They kept on coming, for perhaps five unbelievable minutes, more and more birds overtaking me almost until I had reached the Troup Howell Bridge.

I gave up practice for 100 minutes this evening to chat with Andrew over coffee. We found that we had stranger things in common than just cycling and The Elegant Universe, despite our disparate backgrounds and my allegiance to the bohemian hipster Java's crowd. By the time I was getting antsy about tomorrow's lesson, we had more to talk about than before and were accelerating in our haste to beat the close of the day. I excused myself in some alarm and a little bit of exhaustion to return to Bach. But what a refreshing personality. What time well spent.