Thursday, December 20, 2007

I've decided I'm allowed to get lazy now and then.

So here's another video for you. I gather this is an ad for a fictional product from a little-seen Mike Judge movie, Idiocracy. You may recall he's the evil genius behind Beavis and Butthead, plus he's the creator of Office Space. The gag here is that the future will be a land of morons completely formed by the worst of mass-marketing and Hollywood. Here's a product from the movie, now with it's own ad (apparently, you can actually buy this stuff):




CDs listened to today:

  • Stephen Scott: Minerva's Web
  • Justin Timberlake: Justified
  • Bill Frisell Quartet: (eponymous)
  • Edgard Varese: Ameriques
  • Various Artists: Music From The Morning Of The World
  • William Schuman: Symphony No. 10 (conducted by Gerard Schwarz)
  • Alban Berg: Lulu-Suite

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

I know you want a CD review now.

This disk was a gift from a former girlfriend. She bought it off my Amazon.com wish list where I had placed it on a whim. I probably wouldn't have bought this myself; I use that wish list a bit like a placeholder list for items I might buy--after a little consideration. But this is the sort of risk I take in order to expand my horizons, musically speaking. If you occasionally take a risk and listen to something you wouldn't ordinarily hear, you never know what you might find.

I put this disk on my wish list because it's named for the Pyrenees mountains and at the time, I was still pretty jazzed by my two-week bicycle ride there.

The disk is Sinfonica Pirenaica, by Jesus Guridi. The symphony is a rather traditional four-movement work. Labeled as three movements, the middle movement is really two--a fast and a slow inner movement. While the harmonies aren't overly dissonant, they are rich and they support some beautiful melodies and straightforward rhythms. Some of the development sections seem a little wayward and Mr. Guridi seems to have mistaken plainness for stylistic unity. Nothing here will jump out as exciting and the handling of orchestral timbres is a trifle uninteresting.

The Bilbao Symphony is featured here, led by Juan Jose Mena, and they create a polish to the sound that highlights the work's tunefulness at the cost of shining a spotlight on the frumpy soundscape. I'd be happy to hear more from this band. The disk closes with a dance excerpt from Guridi's ballet, Amaya, and the orchestra sounds like it's having a bunch of fun.

6 out of 10

CDs listened to today:

  • Esa-Pekka Salonen: L.A. Variations
  • Olivier Messiaen: Trois Petites Liturgies de la Presence Divine
  • The Philosopher Kings: (eponymous)
  • Matias Aguayo: Are You Really Lost
  • Steve Reich: Different Trains
  • Frank Sinatra: The Best Of the Columbia Years, 1943-1952, disk 3
  • William Schuman: Symphony No. 9

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

I'm enjoying the Hollywood writers strike.

I think every NBC program I watch has now aired an announcement that the show will return in 2008. The other networks are in the same boat, with most scripted shows having already stopped production due to the strike.

Now my TiVos are caught up--no programs that need viewing, more or less--and I can spend more time reading, writing, and listening to music.

Maybe the strike will lead the networks to change their ways and develop new programming in a different way. I saw an article online recently that mentioned that the cable networks have canceled less than half of the shows they debuted this year. Meanwhile the traditional broadcast networks have canceled more than two-thirds of their new programs from this fall.

The difference? I'm not sure, but here's the theory: the broadcast networks treat development of programming as a "volume business." They put nearly any idea that can get their hands on into a development cycle, wasting their money in great flurries of shows that'll never see the light of day. They even produce dozens of awful pilots that never get aired, but cost a big ol' bag of money to assemble. And yet, despite this lengthy winnowing process, they end up putting Cavemen on prime time.

What's the problem? The big four networks have executives who love good-quality dramas and comedies in the same way that a McDonald's executive loves fine dining--it has nothing to do with their business. In terms of mass culture, it's not just TV and fast food where big business poisons things, it's the music industry, too. In each of these industries, the big companies' executives refer to what they sell as "product" rather than art or craft. They don't care if what they sell is any good, just that it's cheaper to produce than it is to sell--and that they sell it in huge volumes.

And what does the TV industry sell?

You! Or at least, your eyeballs...

CDs listened to today:

  • Garbage: (eponymous)
  • Gyorgy Ligeti: Requiem
  • Alberto Ginastera: Quartet for Strings No. 2
  • Jungle Brothers: Done By The Forces Of Nature
  • Lightning Bolt: Hypermagic Mountain
  • Peter Lieberson: Drala
  • Bob Mould: Workbook

Monday, December 17, 2007

This sounds like science fiction.

Neurobiologists recently announced they could change the sexual preference of fruit flies with a chemical. One of the researchers feels that this technique could eventually be applied to human beings.

Imagine that!

Still, I think that human sexual behavior is so much more complex than fruit flies that the pills might change some basic urges, but not the veritable railroad track of behavior laid down by our years of habits and thoughts. I suppose that this could become a recreational drug at some time, provided human sexual behavior and thinking ever became so ambiguous that one could easily conceive of "switching teams". I wonder what this would do for the truly bisexual?

As for me, I'm pretty conservative about mood-altering drugs in general and I wonder what kind of therapeutic benefit this could ever produce. Would this allow society to announce once and for all that homosexuality is a pathological matter? After all, if you can "cure" it, wouldn't that give weight to the argument that this is a disorder? In doing so, don't we diminish the human dignity of those who are gay? After all, a human being is a complex miracle and a huge part of who we are is our sexuality (sorry for the religious reference). How is reversing such a basic urge and fundamental part of who we are a good thing? It won't prevent disease, make you thrive, or allow you to live longer. What good is that?

CDs listened to today:

  • Ludwig von Beethoven: The Diabelli Variations
  • the apples in stereo: Fun Trick Noisemaker
  • Jesus Guridi: Sinfonia Pirenaica
  • Alban Berg: Concerto for Violin
  • Elvis Costello: When I Was Cruel
  • stellastarr*: (eponymous)
  • Elliott Carter: Symphonia: Sum Fluxae Pretium Spei

Sunday, December 16, 2007

"To be perfectly honest."

I used to have a boss who would say that phrase every time she would lie to me. I think I value honesty more than most people. To me, it's the heart of human relationships. Of course, I majored in Philosophy in college, where I was required to take a course in Ethics (possibly because they feared I didn't understand the difference between right and wrong).

I mention this because I recently encountered a woman I dated briefly a few years ago. The relationship was ever-so-brief and we never really had a spark. I encountered her a couple of years later and didn't recall her at first, so she took advantage of that and, well, played me by trying to initiate the whole romantic thing a second time without bothering to remind me of the first time (hey, this was email, so it was easy to do). When she revealed the deceit, I was rather disgusted at the ploy. Well, I encountered her again recently and because my trust had been previously abused, I cut off the entire conversation as quickly as possible.

But nobody is perfect and there's no such thing as perfect honesty.

I've been lied to and I've told some lies myself. Yes, I'm embarrassed by the latter! Still, there are at least four kinds of lies that can ruin human relationships.

The first is the traditional lie, where you simply say something that isn't true, usually to get--or keep--something you want. Now, since what you want isn't always a material thing, a lot of lies in human interaction aim to gain or preserve a status. Sometimes we lie simply to start or preserve the relationship, or even to destroy it. I once dated a woman who concealed the fact that she had a child from me. I can't say what I would have done if she had been truthful, but I think you know what happened when I figured it out.

The second lie is the lie of omission. While the first kind of lie is usually a conscious decision to say the opposite of what is true, this is the lie where social conventions demand that you disclose something--but you choose not to. This is the lie the woman I mentioned encountering a second and third time told.

The third lie is the saddest of all in human relations: the unknowing lie. This isn't fully intentional, but happens when you have reached a point in your personal development that you no longer are even capable of revealing what's true about yourself, your life, the people in your life, or even trivial things. While the person who commits this isn't fully responsible, this kind of deceit is just as destructive to trust as the conscious lie. On the other hand, we each have a duty to know ourselves well enough to minimize the harm of this. And if you know of someone like this, you know what a hazard they are to their own relationships.

The fourth lie is the broken promise. I think it was a song lyric I heard once that said, "promises are lies that haven't come true yet." This was the specialty of that old boss of mine--and her assistant. Yes, we all agree that life sometimes interferes with our promises and nobody keeps their word every time, but promises of loyalty, faithfulness, support, and things that aren't subject to circumstance can pretty much always be kept. Still, we all need a way to withdraw from those compacts (you know, like divorces), making the line between betrayal and fair notice as fine as can be.

What's my point? First, a plea for all to be as honest as possible. Second, a reminder to all that deceit is the most terrible thing you can do. It shreds the fabric of our relationships and even our society. Please, keep your promises, don't conceal, don't lie, and be self-aware enough to avoid harming your own relations with the lies of ignorance.

And if somebody feels the need to tell you that they're being honest or open, get ready! The next thing they say probably isn't true!

CDs listened to today:

Saturday, December 15, 2007

And it's time for another CD review.

Z by My Morning Jacket (MMJ) is another disk that I discovered in the standard fashion: learn about the disk from a review or a TV ad or something, download a sample, listen a few times, make a decision to purchase. I know, a kinda boring and conservative approach.

One thing that has been annoying me about a lot of less-famous bands (the music press likes to call them "indie" acts) is that they often feature singers who sound like they're afraid to really sing. They timidly push the notes and words out in pinched, thin voices that only highlight the bombast and over-the-top singing of your standard-issue American Idol competitor. My Morning Jacket's singer, (you can't make a name like this up) Jim James, is not one of those frightened singers. He mostly sings in the back of his throat, but at full-volume when needed and with a rich tone unusual in rock music nowadays. He also eschews much in the way of ornamentation, letting the melody's beauty speak for itself.

Withe a few exceptions, MMJ's Z favors stately mid-tempo numbers and ostinato-style arrangements that favor static grooves over harmonic movement. The music press will tell you this is a hallmark of what they like to call "jam bands", meaning acts that favor long, improvised instrumental passages in concert. While I usually don't care for this kind of approach, the album's songs are mostly tight affairs with little of the tedious noodling that can dominate jam-band material and the lack of harmonic progression seems more serene and centered than aimless. The languid feel is enhanced by the vocal melodies which have a serene, stately sweep--it's easy to get caught up in the tunes, even when the tempos are a bit brisker and the band gets a touch livelier.

It's hard to imagine dancing to this recording, given the placid approach that permeates even the energetic songs, but this is some great listening.

8 out of 10

CDs listened to today:

  • Various Artists: Logical Progressions, disk 2

Friday, December 14, 2007

It's not a keeper, but…

I've been working through some of the old sample songs on my iPod--songs I listen to a few times, then decide if they're worth paying for. The other night, I worked my way through songs from the critics' darlings, Art Brut. I won't be paying for any of their songs; their singer doesn't really sing--he shouts. That's a tough practice for a a band that wants to be musically successful, because even with a skilled shouter who manages to project a wide variety in tone, pitch and expression, it still isn't tuneful and isn't melodies you'll want to sing later. The Hold Steady and Louis XIV are bands that do a little better at this ploy.

But the songs are funny and sarcastic--if a little too snarky and clever. I wanted to tell you about one song, "Good Weekend", where he brags about his weekend and the woman he met. This line in one of the verses is too funny: "I've seen her naked!" he enthuses, "TWICE!"

CDs listened to today

  • Steve Reich: The Desert Music
  • Frank Sinatra: The Best Of The Columbia Years, 1943-1952, disk 2
  • Matias Aguayo: Are You Really Lost
  • Salvatore Sciarrino: Infinito nero
  • The Thrills: So Much For The City
  • William Schuman: Symphony No. 9
  • Vladimir Ussachevsky: Line Of Apogee

Thursday, December 13, 2007

It's CD review day!

Why did I buy a disk featuring Alban Berg's Lulu-Suite? Berg is one of the composers I find most interesting and I eventually want to have every major work from his pen--along with Messiaen, Schoenberg, Beethoven, Stravinsky… Give me a few more minutes and I can probably think of a half-dozen more composers who are that important to me! If you'd like to learn more about Herr Berg, you can visit the AllMusic.com page about him. Mostly what I'd like you to know is that he was one of the first composers who could be called "atonal". He actually wasn't particularly atonal, truth be told, since that means a style of music where all pitches are equally important. He tended to have a central, primary pitch for his works and simply followed a rather different set of rules to get there!

The Lulu-Suite is beautifully played here by the London Symphony Orchestra, showing the dark lyricism of Berg's opera highlights with great balance and giving his slow-motion rhythms a bit more movement than we usually find. Like his other opera, Wozzeck, Berg seems to get a little lost, melodically speaking, and the tunes can be a bit stiff--especially the featured vocal melody in the suite.

Claudio Abbado is the conductor for all three works here, including the Three Orchestra Pieces--which every label uses to fill up a Berg disk. The Three Pieces are not Berg's best works, nor his most famous, but this is another good recording of them (in case you haven't heard them before, you'll do fine with this disk). The CD is rounded out with the less-familiar Altenberg Songs suite, sung by Margaret Price. She really gets Berg's way with a melody and melts the phrases beautifully with just enough tartness to keep the old master's occasionally cloying melodies from becoming too rich.

The Altenberg Songs aren't the strongest work and Abbado's leadership is fine, but there is nothing on this disk that so distinguishes the performances to deserve a very high ranking. I suppose that's the worst thing I can say!

7 out of 10

CDs listened to today:

  • Vittorio Giannini: Symphony No. 3
  • Jesus Jones: Doubt
  • Gyorgy Ligeti: Requiem
  • Frank Ezra Levy: Symphony No. 4, "Structures of the Mind"
  • Bob Mould: Black Sheets Of Rain
  • Lightning Bolt: Hypermagic Mountain
  • Olivier Messiaen: Quatre Etudes de Rhythme
  • Sam Phillips: Fan Dance
  • Esa-Pekka Salonen: L.A. Variations

Wednesday, December 12, 2007

Do you have time for this?

My blog's most devoted reader--perhaps the only reader!--sent me a SlashDot.org link a couple of days ago.

The SlashDot mob marked a story from Wired magazine about people who are fascinated by high-tech time devices and measuring time on the most fundamental and precise level possible. There's a quote in the article that you have to read:

If you have one clock ... you are peaceful and have no worries. If you have two clocks ... you start asking, "What time is it, really?"
The perfect way of thinking about timekeeping!

And the subjects of the Wired program call themselves the "Time Nuts". Couldn't they call themselves the "Time Lords" or another cool name?

By the way, I think the reason he sent it to me was to establish once and for all that I have OCD--despite my denials. In my defense, I only keep my Mac on accurate time by synchronizing it with the National Institute of Standards and Technology's (NIST) time server, which is pretty effortless. I can live with that! If you're interested in learning more and getting your computer synced up, visit the NIST page for more. Although I admit that when I look at my watch and then compare it with my cell phone's time, it really annoys me when they don't match ("what time is it, really?").

But do visit the SlashDot.org page about the story and read the users' comments. There are a lot of puns and cracking wise worth reading there!

CDs listened to today:
  • Ludwig van Beethoven: The Creatures of Prometheus
  • Fiona Apple: When The Pawn Breaks...
  • My Morning Jacket: Z
  • Alban Berg: Chamber Concerto
  • Elvis Costello: All This Useless Beauty
  • Jesus Guridi: Sinfonia Pirenaica
  • Elliott Carter: The String Quartets, disk 2
  • The Futureheads: (eponymous)
  • stellastarr*: (eponymous)

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

Whose fault is it?

I was sick a good part of last week, my recent posts are undoubtedly fruits of lying in bed for four days with little to do all day. One of the thoughts I have now that I'm feeling better is this: what could I have done to avoid the illness? I'm certainly not saying it's all my fault that I got a nasty cold--these things happen. But am I taking care of myself to the best of my ability to stay healthy? Not only avoiding colds, but overall?

The answer, of course, is no, I'm not doing all I can. And I won't do all I can, but I might try to do better. Hey, nobody's perfect, but there's room for improvement here. I could sleep more and better, eat better, wash my hands more often, work less, stress less, and exercise more. I'm not playing blame the victim, but when a bad thing happens to me, I feel like I need to consider things and decide if it's worth it to make the changes needed to avoid a re-occurrence. In a way, this is related to a rape-prevention thing a friend forwarded to me recently. If you're raped, or get a cold, or any of a zillion bad things between those opposite ends of the "bad things" spectrum, it's truly not your fault and sometimes, they happen when you've taken no risk at all. But there are things you can do to reduce the overall risk those bad things will happen to you.

Naturally, nobody is willing to do everything they should to avoid the bad things in life--risks are a natural part of life--but I'm one of those people who thinks a lot about these tradeoffs. I'm willing to try and focus a little better on the things I mentioned to avoid colds, particularly sleep, stress, and fitness (I'm already pretty good about hand-washing, honest). Perversely, our efforts to reduce risk don't always pay off and sometimes, the efforts aren't necessary--you just never really know. So we all just need to find a balance and be satisfied with our honest efforts.

Maybe I should devote a little more time to what I should consider doing to prevent a burglary at my house?

CDs listened to today:

  • Matias Aguayo: Are You Really Lost
  • Joan Tower: Concerto for Orchestra
  • Various Artists: Logical Progression, disk 1
  • William Schuman: Symphony No. 9
  • Hebert Vazquez: String Quartet No. 1
  • Kai Winding, J.J. Johnson & Bennie Green: Trombone By Three
  • Bill Frisell Quartet: (eponymous)
  • William Schuman: Symphony No. 10 (Gerard Schwarz conducting)
  • Remy Shand: The Way I Feel

Monday, December 10, 2007

Another key to happiness?

I don't remember where I heard this. Basically, the advice was to find what makes you happy and do it. Then you will find true love when you find somebody who's greatest joy is seeing you happy.

I'm not sure I entirely agree with that, but I like the sentiment--plus I'm certainly going to agree that it's up to each of us to make our own selves happy. I know we're not born knowing this; and our parents don't always know how to teach this. But still, there's a point where we can't complain about circumstances or the mistakes we've made that put us where we are. It's hard sometimes to see our way through life's compromises and detours to happiness. But really, do you ever want to give that responsibility to others? I mean, they can't even get you good Christmas gifts consistently!

For me, that starts with setting some goals (both small and large ones) and agreeing with myself that I need to be happy that I've made them. Return to college and graduate? Check. Cycle across the country? Check. Reaching the goals is only part of what has made me happier and more satisfied with my life (not perfectly happy--this is life, not a romance novel). The journey and the sacrifices I've made to get those goals (hey, sometimes I've been more disciplined than others) really do add meaning. Call me existentialist, but we are also responsible for the meaning in our lives just as we foot the bill for the happiness.

I gotta say, though, some of life's goals are harder than others. First, you have to figure out what you truly want (the things that will bring happiness), then how to get it. It piles up and can overwhelm you. What do I truly want to give up to get that? How can I make the personal changes that I need to reach some of the bigger life goals (college was a big change for me)? How about meeting my responsibilities and obligations that I've either chosen or life has handed me while reaching for the new goals? And am I really willing to make the sacrifices for some of these?

I'm actually in the middle of a period where my discipline is pretty good. These things come and go, as they do for most of us, but just the progress I'm making is a start that satisfies. As for true love? Well, that's still up to me.

CDs listened to today:

  • Gyorgy Ligeti: Requiem
  • Olivier Messiaen: Poemes pour Mi
  • Sam Phillips: A Boot And A Shoe
  • Lightning Bolt: Hypermagic Mountain
  • H. Owen Reed: La Fiesta Mexicana
  • Frank Sinatra: The Best Of The Columbia Years, 1943-1952, disk 1
  • Esa-Pekka Salonen: L.A. Variations
  • Joseph Schwantner: In Aeternum (Consortium IV)
  • 3rd Bass: Derelicts Of Dialect

Sunday, December 09, 2007

Key to happiness?

I'm not the kind of guy who gets terribly religious, but also not the kind who likes to speak ill of the faithful (until they try to tell me what to do). Still, if I were forced to choose a faith to follow, it would probably be a particularly purified form of Zen Buddhism. I mention this because the TV show, Life, has a character who tries to follow the precepts of Zen.

Here's the thing: Is our affinity for a particular faith more than just a quirk of personality? This struck me when the TV show had a pair of episodes named for a Zen exercise: dig a hole and fill it up. The idea behind the exercise is that the activity doesn't take a lot of thought and is utterly pointless--which is kinda the point, if you'll forgive the perverse way of putting it... Well, the real point of the hole-digging is to allow you to focus on the task, meaningless as it is, and in doing so, empty your mind of those restless thoughts and simply become present and mindful. As in, become one with the universe and all that good Zen stuff.

My puzzlement is, how is this different from the way a person with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD) would calm themselves and become more "present"? Now, you only have to peruse my blog archives for a while to see that I, perhaps compulsively, keep a listening journal. I freely admit to an occasional urge to be compulsive, is that why I find Zen appealing? What does that say about personality type and other faiths?

For the record, I don't think I truly suffer from OCD. My musical journaling isn't a fetish that leaves me anxious when I don't do it--although my iPod and iTunes means always knowing what I listened to and when.

CDs listened to today:

  • Benjamin Lees: Concerto for French Horn and Orchestra
  • Paul Motian Trio: Trioism

Saturday, December 08, 2007

I almost agree.

But not quite. There's been a big fuss in Washington lately about the CIA. It seems that they destroyed videotapes of interrogations of terror suspects. Reading between the lines, I'd say that the CIA destroyed the tapes for two reasons: to conceal the fact that they were torturing people and to conceal other methods--not to mention the interrogators' identities. Apparently, they did this against the advice of the White House counsel's office, so I think we need to acknowledge that the administration can't be blamed for this one (that's a nice change, isn't it?).

Since we can't blame the President and his staff for this one, let's set aside the political rhetoric and look at what the real issues are. First, the CIA is rightly concerned that they may be held accountable for torture once the current administration leaves office. Can we pretty please stop the torture? Even if you call it by other names like "waterboarding" or "attention slap", it's still torture and cruelty. How can we be a people that tortures?

Second, if you set aside the question about the torture, I agree about destroying records. The CIA should destroy records regarding sources and methods. Intelligence methods aren't safe and secure without keeping the people who do them secret, along with their methods.

Friday, December 07, 2007

I'm overdue for a CD review.

I recall this CD purchase easily. This is one that follows my normal practice. I read a review online, probably at the New York Times, then located some sample songs, gave them a few listens on the iPod, then purchased the CD at full price from Amazon.com. It's a little rigid, making sure I audition tracks before I buy. When I don't find anything this way, I tend to end up buying a lot more jazz CDs...

The CD in this case is Ujumbe, by Samba Mapalanga & Orchestra Virunga. For me the act's musical style is a familiar one, Soukous. As is my custom, I won't bother giving you in-depth details describing the style, so here's a Wikipedia article about Soukous, but Samba Mapalanga is a long-time star in the genre. The important things to know about Soukous is that the style originates in the African Congo region, frequently uses Latin rhythms as an underpinning, typically deploys at least two or three guitars (tuned to a non-Western scale), and the guitars usually play complex patterns with overlapping riffs and finger-plucking leads. Usually, they sing in French or their local tongues (typically Lingala, if I understand these things).

Ujumbe isn't a bad example of Soukous, if you're looking for one. About three quarters of the disk is electric, but the group takes an unusual turn with acoustic guitars now and then--and just to make sure things are different, they also use a nice touch of horns, complete with the occasional saxophone solo. This gives the disk a broader variety of sounds and textures than most of my Soukous disks, and that's a nice touch. My very lousy ear for lyrics tells me that the lyrics are in heavily-accented French and English, plus an African tongue. This is good stuff, with fresh, bright, ringing guitars and nicely shaped melodies.

8 out of 10.

Thursday, December 06, 2007

I know it's lazy.

But I want to share a video that will make you laugh--and think. I know I'm contributing to viral marketing, something I'd rather not do, but it's the holiday season and this video seems à propos:



CDs listened to today:

  • stellastarr*: (eponymous)

Wednesday, December 05, 2007

I have a pet theory about sports.

Well, sports and money. I sometimes call it my Italian soccer theory. I name it because the Italian soccer style is entirely about defense and a typical kind of game can end with a 1-0 score. Soccer wasn't always that way and there was a time when the NBA averaged 230 points per game--it's more like 190 points a night now. What happened?

Money happened. First, the players get high-priced, then the coaches get high-priced. Once the coaches are paid huge sums, they get a need to control the game. Here's the problem for semi-improvised games like soccer and basketball: they require creativity. Coaches can't control creativity, but they can destroy it with defense. Not only is defense more reliable for the coaches, it doesn't really slump. How can a coach, eager to keep such a high-paying job, resist selecting players who are better defenders than attackers? For crying out loud, the Italian soccer style is called "catennaccio"! It's Italian for "bolt the door"!

With both the NBA and the soccer authorities, they've been reluctant to modify the game to increase scoring. Soccer could easily increase scoring, just enlarge the goal but the sport's authorities are as conservative as Ronald Reagan's undies. The NBA is probably more difficult--I'm not sure what they can do. Maybe ban defense? It's interesting to compare these leagues with the NFL, which has constantly tinkered with the rules to keep scoring.

At least the soccer games still have an abstract beauty. The NBA doesn't even have that any more.

Tuesday, December 04, 2007

Last thoughts about Vancouver.

Of course, I primarily went to Vancouver to get to know a friend better, but it's worth acknowledging some of the subtext that the trip could only naturally acquire. He also introduced me to A; Vancouver is her hometown. As I mentioned to my friend and his wife, it's a little odd to have spent all that time with A imagining my first visit to Vancouver, always believing it would be with her--to meet her family and friends, including those whom I did meet on this visit. So I visit without her and it's only natural to think of her once or twice, given the history.

And what was I thinking about her? Thinking that this was the town where she grew up and that this place molded her. Wondering a bit about which part of town it was. A little sad that things didn't work out between us, given the time and effort involved, I suppose. Feeling a little sorry for her at how big a mess I walked out on. Other, less positive things, but it's hardly fair to give light to things that I never even brought up with her. And the fact that she remains oblivious to those matters is my failing.

CDs listened to today:

  • Elvis Costello: Brutal Youth
  • My Morning Jacket: Z
  • Elliott Carter: The String Quartets, disk 1
  • The Future Sound Of London: Dead Cities
  • Jesus Guridi: Sinfonia Pirenaica
  • Ingram Marshall: Hymnodic Delays
  • George Gershwin: Rhapsody In Blue
  • J. J. Johnson & Al Cohn: The Birdlanders

Monday, December 03, 2007

Back at home tonight.

I finished up my visit to Vancouver today, returning in the late evening. I explored Vancouver itself today, wandering around the town in the rain (safely hidden from the elements in my rental car, for the most part). I've grown accustomed to thinking of Western US cities as having newish suburbs, unlike the Eastern cities with suburbs that are much older than any town in the West. Vancouver disproves that, being roughly 180 years old. I'm a lazy thinker in not realizing this (the West Coast cities are much, much older than the Mountain West), but at least I'm attentive enough to notice!

However, outside of an older downtown and an historic park (complete with a re-created fort), Vancouver is very much like the older suburbs in the Mountain West towns. The homes are primarily modest wood-frame buildings--in fact, I didn't see any "McMansion" homes until today. I imagine I may have missed some wealthier neighborhoods in my wanderings, but the town seems nicely free from that sort of suburban "backfill" development we see in the Denver area. As time goes by, the huge houses that fill empty areas in the suburbs and urban centers disturb me more and more as eyesores and enemies of sensible urban design.

Outside of the residential neighborhoods, Vancouver has a large port facility on the Columbia river--complete with a big railroad terminal--and a downtown that looks like it has seen better days. The neighborhoods belie this bit of decay with large retail "power centers" anchored by busy discount stores and plenty of smaller retailers. As much of an urbanist as I feel I am, a town like Vancouver makes me think that maybe the downtown isn't needed. On the other hand, I'd need to see a thriving cultural scene before I withdraw my view that suburbs are for raising kids safely and economically, but cities are for living and vitality.

My friend's home, which I visited several times, is a really good example of how suburban living is good for the kids. His home is on a cul-de-sac, the dreaded bane of urbanists everywhere, where it appears to be the smallest home on the block. That's always ideal for property values, since the other, more expensive homes tend to push up your home's value. Even better, his house backs up to a spacious public park, which has gotta be the best situation I've ever seen. It's a great place for him and his family, even if it can seem a bit small with two energetic kids and a few pets running around. I envy that!

CDs listened to today:

  • William Schuman: Symphony No. 9
  • Bill Frisell Quartet: (eponymous)
  • William Schuman: Symphony No. 10
  • Ludwig van Beethoven: Piano Concerto No. 5
  • Aphex Twin: Richard D. James Album
  • Remy Shand: The Way I Feel
  • Alban Berg: Lulu Suite
  • Ingram Marshall: Hymnodic Delays
  • Robert Russell Bennett: Symphonic Songs for Band

Sunday, December 02, 2007

My last full day in Portland.

I got a decent start today, rather than taking the tourist approach of leaving the hotel at 11 AM. The weather was a controlling factor again today when it came to my activity decisions. While it was warmer, it was also considerably more rainy today--with low clouds and fog, to boot. Since I was planning on seeing some of the local natural wonders, the weather made choosing easy: the coast areas were reporting gale-force winds and the low clouds made Mt. St. Helens an unlikely sight. That meant it was time to go inland and see what I could in the Columbia River Gorge (by rule, as a Coloradan, i'm allowed to bag outdoor activities when it rains--we just wait a day for the dry weather...).

The low clouds and the fog didn't make the Gorge ideal, but I headed upriver in the South bank and found a nice spot to pull off and view one of the celebrated waterfalls in the Gorge. There was a paved path, so I started following it as it started zigzagging up the hill. The signs said I covered a total of six miles, although I wonder if I misunderstood the trail markings; it felt like considerably less. Of course, being from Colorado, I refuse to call my journey a hike, that would require an unpaved path...

I learned something important while I walked up that hill: my mountaineering rain shell is old and no longer leaks--its waterproofing has completely worn out. The rain began to soak through during the last third of my stroll, leaving me a bit chilled. When I returned to the rental car, I began to warm up, but it was only the briefest drive from the trailhead to the famous Multnomah Falls and I was a bit reluctant to make the 500-meter walk to the upper viewing spot.

I took a look at the lodge at the falls and found they had a nicer restaurant with a lunch menu running about $15 for an entree. Well, that seemed fine, given my chill, but when I went inside, it turned out the were serving Sunday brunch for $23. That seemed fine to me--especially when there's unlimited bacon involved! When she asked where I wanted to sit, I asked the hostess for guidance and she commented that I looked pretty cold and wet, so she seated me by the roaring fire. Eminently civilized! The experience reminded me of Aspen a bit, where you can enjoy real outdoors and still step right into a nice place without changing clothes.

I drove quite a way after braving the cold and wet to see Multnomah Falls, the idea being that I would return to Vancouver on the North bank of the river. Turns out there aren't a lot of bridges over the river out there and that was a long drive. I made the right decision, I could see a lot more scenery from that side.

I topped off a great day with another evening with friends--I treated them to pizza. I just want to be a good guest and show my appreciation for the hospitality!

CDs listened to today:

  • Esa-Pekka Salonen: L.A. Variations
  • Peter Tchaikovsky: Symphony No. 4
  • Various Artists: Living In Oblivion, Volume 2: The 80s Greatest Hits
  • Matias Aguayo: Are You Really Lost
  • Kai Winding & J.J. Johnson: The Great Kai & J.J.
  • Remy Shand: The Way I Feel

Saturday, December 01, 2007

More fun in Portland today.

I found it pretty amusing today, watching the locals react to some minor snow flurries. I was having lunch when the predicted snow picked up--everybody in sight of the window was staring, wide-eyed, at the snow. Plus, it seemed like every time I said I was from Denver, the locals would say that I brought the snow with me (I imagine Portlanders hear the same thing about rain when they go to Denver). I don't normally consider it real snow unless it actually sticks to the ground (it didn't today), but I suppose the locals deserve credit for the rarity of this weather event.

With the weather being so awful, I figured this wasn't the right time to go see the Columbia Gorge or Mt. St. Helens, so I visited the city's best music store, shopped a few other places, and got to make my first visit to an Ikea store. I would have felt more like a good consumer if I had found some good Christmas gifts, but no such luck.

I had dinner at a friend's, where I also finally got to meet another one of those great people I've never met in person! We played a little more with the kids on the Wii, he has a couple of great kids--but the other friend's family was ill and couldn't join us (he wasn't doing so well himself). I even got to bond a bit with my host's wife, having a heart-to-heart; she's as great as her kids!

CDs listened to today:

  • H. Owen Reed: La Fiesta Mexicana (Howard Dunn conducting)
  • Horace Silver: The Best Of Horace Silver
  • Lightning Bolt: Hypermagic Mountain
  • Joseph Schwantner: Concerto for Percussion and Orchestra
  • Thicke: A Beautiful World

Friday, November 30, 2007

A more social, less touristy day.

I had time to slow down today, sleep in a little, then hang out with a friend in Vancouver. I joined him for a few errands and a decent piece of fish for lunch (swordfish, which I can never resist), then finally got my hands on his Wii to try it out. Best of all, I finally got to meet his family--two very charming daughters and his wife! The gang treated me to dinner at Red Robin, despite my protests.

My time with the Wii tells me that I am officially not a video game guy. I feel like a misfit, that I don't have a strong attraction to the entire genre of console gaming--even the Wii, with its shallower learning curve. That means there's hope for me yet!

CDs listened to today:

  • Sam Phillips: Omnipop (It's Only A Flesh Wound, Lambchop)
  • Gyorgy Ligeti: Requiem

Thursday, November 29, 2007

I've been a tourist today!

So, I'm ensconced in Vancouver, Washington--a suburb of Portland, Oregon. After I settled in last night, I found that having only had lunch and airplane snack packs, I felt restless. Since I'm in the suburbs (my motel is across the street from Vancouver's slightly ramshackle mall), I wandered out last night to stretch my legs in the rain and see about a snack. Naturally, all I could find open was a convenience store, so I went with my old standby: cheese.

Today, I did some tourism in earnest, taking my rental Kia into downtown Portland where I discovered the Pearl district, a combination loft/boutique/nightclub district that was a little sleepy in the rain today. I suspect I would enjoy it much more in the evening when the restaurants and clubs are hopping, rather than what looked like a somnolent Thursday morning (do they know it's Christmas season in the Pearl?). After stopping to visit my pal's office in Beaverton and a brief dash to the nearest mall for a Christmas errand, I had lunch at a local burger chain's Beaverton outpost. Burgerville was not bad--and the price was even easier to swallow than the reasonably good fries. My suggestion to them is to find a better burger bun! The sandwich would be a near-home run with that!

After lunch, I visited Portland's Japanese Garden. It's located in hilly Washington Park, near the zoo and arboretum; and the twisty, quiet roads on the steep slopes of the park made me wish for a sunny, dry day and my bicycle to go flying down those hills with no thought to my safety. The garden helped calm those thoughts. I've visited a surprising number of Japanese gardens, especially for an American who's never visited Japan, and found this one was first-rate. The garden is actually several different gardens mashed together on a knoll, interlaced with a few paths. I'm always struck by the Japanese approach to formal, decorative gardening. There isn't a bit of plant life, rock or any other material that isn't placed with painstaking deliberation and artifice. Yet the effect is one of slightly-manicured nature, as the gardener strives to permit enough of the natural to come shining through his efforts. This garden is also notably presentational in its approach, with nearly every inch of the paths intended to show you a calculated vista or corner of the garden. It was a shame, however, that the Tea House was not fully open for visiting or viewing.

This evening, I made one of those odd discoveries that shout with irony. I was using a web search to look for a decent restaurant here in the suburbs, you know, not a chain. The first site I pulled up ranked a Mongolian Barbecue restaurant very highly. Well, I've always had a thing for that kind of cuisine, to I checked the location... How about the back of my motel? I didn't want to miss that opportunity!

CDs listened to today:

  • Harald Genzmer: Sonata for Trombone and Organ
  • Jet: Get Born
  • Jesus Guridi: Sinfonia Pirenaica
  • Lars-Erik Larson: Concertino for Trombone and Orchestra
  • Morcheeba: Big Calm
  • Remy Shand: The Way I Feel
  • stellastarr*: (eponymous)
  • Ingram Marshall: Hymnodic Delays
  • Olivier Messiaen: La Nativite du Seigneur

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

My iPod isn't what it used to be.

Today, I was traveling and found that my iPod now only runs about four hours on a full charge. It's served me well, having been with me to Europe (twice), nearly every day at work and, well, most every day when I wasn't at work! It's been with me much more frequently than all those wireless phones I always carry, too. If you restricted me to only one device, my listening journal should tell you it would be my iPod.

While I love the way the device keeps me musically interested at all times, I can't say I'm really thrilled about the prospect of buying a new one. The newer iPods have more features, such as video, internet, games, and color displays (hey, my iPod is really, really old), but all I want is music playback. I don't want to pay $200-$400 for a gadget that not only has features I don't want, but is also incompatible with my computer! Yes, my machine is so old that I need to replace it for full compatibility with currently-offered iPods.

Still, there is one reason to grab a new iPod Classic. I've never had an MP3 player (this is my 4th Pod) that could hold all my digital music at once. My collection is currently about 120 GigaBytes and the larger Classic model holds 160 GigaBytes. Finally! Room to grow!

CDs listened to today:

  • Samba Mapalanga: Ujumbe
  • Robert Russell Bennett: Suite Of Old American Dances
  • Elvis Costello: Spike
  • Alban Berg: Lulu Suite
  • Elliott Carter: Sonata for Piano
  • William Schuman: Symphony No. 10 (Gerard Schwarz conducting)
  • My Morning Jacket: Z
  • Remy Shand: The Way I Feel

Tuesday, November 27, 2007

CDs listened to today:

  • Esa-Pekka Salonen: L.A. Variations
  • Kelly Willis: What I Deserve
  • Matias Aguayo: Are You Really Lost
  • William Schuman: Symphony No. 9
  • Bill Frisell Quartet: (eponymous)
  • Ludwig van Beethoven: Piano Concerto No. 3
  • Peter Apfelbaum and the Hieroglyphics Ensemble: Signs of Life
  • William Schuman: Symphony No. 10 (conducted by Gerard Schwarz)

Monday, November 26, 2007

More symptoms of an odd mind today...

I'm returning to the refrain of the odd situations where I overthink things. I listen to NPR's Car Talk podcast every week--just the call of the week, not the entire show! If you know the radio program, you already know why. I keep thinking about the question I want to ask them. Let me share it with you first, OK?

Here's the puzzle: I used to date a woman who drove a manual-transmission car, just as I always have. I noticed that she would put the shifter in the center "neutral" position when she stopped at a traffic light and would then release the clutch pedal. It seemed odd to me, so I asked her why; and she explained that she did that to preserve the transmission for the long term. So now I have to think, because I have always kept the clutch engaged when I stop, leaving the shifter in first gear, ready to go.

I'm so puzzled. It seems to me that this is about one of two principles: either the clutch is worn more by cycles of engaging/disengaging or it's worn more by total time spent engaged. How on earth am I supposed to know this?! I think I'll need to call the Car Talk guys and ask…

CDs listened to today:

  • Olivier Messiaen: Et exspecto resurrectionem mortuorum
  • Sam Phillips: Martinis & Bikinis
  • stellastarr*: (eponymous)
  • H. Owen Reed: La Fiesta Mexicana (Eugene Corporon conducting)
  • Shakira: Laundry Service
  • Gyorgy Ligeti: Requiem
  • Heinrich Schutz: Es steh Gott auf
  • They Might Be Giants: Flood
  • Lightning Bolt: Hypermagic Mountain
  • Various Artists: Legally Stoned, disk 2

Sunday, November 25, 2007

It's time for a CD review!

I don't recall, again, where I bought Ellen Taaffe Zwilich's Symphony No. 2, "Cello", probably the last of the items purchased at the going-out-of-business sale at Tower Records or else I bought it at ArkivMusic.com, which explains a lot about why Tower went out of business... Aw, maybe it was a gift from a friend or family member who bought it off my Amazon.com wish list. As always, it's easier to remember why I chose this disk. I've been listening to Ms. Zwilich's works for some years now--and she's a friend of trombonists, having composed a concerto each for both the tenor trombone and the bass trombone. Mostly, I like her music, even if I don't know how to pronounce her name.

The disk not only features Ms. Zwilich's Second Symphony, it contains her Chamber Concerto and a Double Concerto for Violin and Cello. That's a lot of string works. The Chamber Concerto is not quite in the mold of the famed concerti for chamber groups by Arnold Schoenberg, using a larger group and a conventional chamber orchestra string section (Schoenberg and those who followed his example used one musician per part only, not multiple string players). The other two works use fairly unremarkable forces: the modern full orchestra, with some featured soloists.

Sadly, as we usually find with contemporary composers, the orchestra performing on this disk is not a top-notch group: The Louisville Orchestra. They may not be the Boston Symphony Orchestra, but they are well-rehearsed and up to the task. The main drawback is that the string and wind sections lack the polished sound that comes from polished intonation and better-quality instruments; the unity and precision of a top orchestra also allows for more powerful accents and fortissimos. The works rely on fairly standard language, a good illustration of Ms. Zwilich's approach. While complex, she doesn't use vast bunches of chaotic cross-rhythms and super-abstract rhythmic and harmonic concepts. Instead, she relies on melodies, but eschews the simplified harmonies favored by some more-tuneful composers and keeps her signature string sound at times in the Double Concerto and Symphony: dry, atmospheric and spare.

Ms. Zwilich also manages soloists and orchestras extremely well, allowing the featured instruments to change their relative sonic positions in relation to the larger group: now hidden, now interwoven, now standing in the foreground. Meanwhile, the chamber work shows her ability to manipulate smaller forces in a handful of interesting ways--again, with interesting harmonies and tunes. She's a darned good composer and this recording is as good as any I've heard from her.

7 out of 10

CDs listened to today:

  • Libby Larsen: Solo Symphony
  • Moodswings: Moodfood by Moodswings
  • Jesus Guridi: Sinfonia Pirenaica

Saturday, November 24, 2007

Thermal mass is a tricky thing.

A colleague (and sometime reader of this page) recommended to me quite some time ago that I put lots of water or some such thing in my refrigerator. The idea being that the water has a high thermal mass and would remain cold, taking up space that would be air that left the fridge when I opened the door. From there, it's an easy logical step to imagine that there is less warm air entering the space, needing to be chilled.

Maybe I over-think these things, but if I put big gallon jugs of water in the fridge, doesn't it have to chill them, defeating the purpose? Water has a very high specific heat (a measure of the energy needed to change the temperature of a given mass of a thing), meaning a large thermal mass, and that cuts both ways. If I put water in the icebox to increase the thermal mass, there is an initial energy cost to cool the water that's much higher for water than for air (relatively low specific heat), but if I don't, I pay over time to continuously chill additional air that goes into the refrigerator every time I open the door, right?

And here I sit, still trying to figure that one out.

CDs listened to today:

  • Celso Garrido-Lecca: String Quartet No. 2
  • Jellyfish: Bellybutton
  • My Morning Jacket: Z

Friday, November 23, 2007

I am not a Philistine.

I joined my sister and her oldest for a little holiday shopping today. We ended up at one of those discount import stores buying sweet treats for stocking stuffers and such, plus a few goodies for ourselves--chocolate bars. I'm not sure I fully understand the source of it, but my sister seems to have, if not rediscovered, re-energized her interest in chocolate in recent years. Her refreshed interest has intersected with the trend in the chocolate industry to produce new higher-end chocolates that emphasize much higher-quality ingredients; an emphasis on less-sweet, darker chocolates; and a new trend toward the idea of terroire in chocolate (a French idea, naturally, that argues that the same crop grown in different places will have different flavors, and that if you don't blend the crops, you can produce unique flavors--think wine).

She bought several pricey bars of chocolate, labeled as 70%-85% cocoa content--much higher than my preferred milk chocolate. We ended up going to dinner and sampling several of the chocolate bars: a Lindt 85% cocoa bar, a Lindt 70% cocoa bar, and a Godiva 72% bar. I actually do have a reasonably discerning palate (and if any of you read my posting about milk, I swear I'm not lying here!). My sister was confident that the Godiva bar, which was much more expensive, would be the clearly superior taste. The truth is that the 85% bar was something I found overpoweringly bitter, hiding subtler flavors in favor of the roasted notes of the cocoa but missing some of what makes good chocolate a complex, satisfying taste. The Godiva bar lacked complexity and tasted more like a very refined Hersey bar.

But oh, that Lindt 70% bar! I've always felt strongly that Lindt makes some brilliant chocolates and a side-by-side tasting made me feel justified. Like my experience with the Lindt milk chocolates that I prefer, the Lindt bar had so many flavors going on: fruity high notes, roasty flavors, and even a hint of toffee. Go to your local import discount place and get some now.

But I still think of chocolate as a flavoring for cakes and brownies, or a coating for peanuts, mints, or raisins…

CDs listened to today:

  • Funki Porcini: Hed Phone Sex
  • Alban Berg: Lulu Suite

Thursday, November 22, 2007

I love the word "ineffable".

We use it to describe a thing which can't be described in words--of course we just did, using "ineffable"…

Wednesday, November 21, 2007

What is this?

The NFL now has three football games on Thanksgiving Day. Why on Earth would anybody want to see that much football? This just doesn't seem to be fair to the devoted fans of the teams, let alone the staff members of the teams and stadiums. There has got to be a better way for people who want to be devoted to their beloved pro football teams.

CDs listened to today:

  • Ludwig van Beethoven: Piano Concerto No. 1
  • Anthrax: Attack Of the Killer B's
  • Ellen Taaffe Zwilich: Symphony No. 2, "Cello"
  • Richard Rodney Bennett: Concerto For Alto Saxophone And Orchestra
  • Cornershop: When I Was Born for the 7th Time
  • Bill Frisell Quartet: (eponymous)
  • Samba Mapalanga: Ujumbe
  • William Schuman: Symphony No. 10 (Gerard Schwarz conducting)
  • Elliott Carter: String Quartet No. 1

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

I'm planning on visiting friends at the end of the month.

It's pretty exciting, considering I've never met them. This is becoming a pattern! I'll be going to a city I don't know and maybe see a few new things--certainly see some new people. I've been aggressively pinching pennies again to make this happen. Shoot, I've even had a few meals at home to prove it. Now that's dedication in my book. After all, it means I had to clean up after myself.

CDs listened to today:

  • Lightning Bolt: Hypermagic Mountain
  • Robbie Williams: The Ego Has Landed
  • Esa-Pekka Salonen: L.A. Variations
  • Matias Aguayo: Are You Really Lost
  • William Schuman: Symphony No. 9
  • Bill Frisell Quartet: (eponymous)

Monday, November 19, 2007

I know a dirty little secret.

When you read coverage of the Consumer Price Index (CPI), the most important measure of inflation for us as consumers, you might not realize that many of the news agencies use the core CPI. That measurement excludes food and fuel prices--you know, two of the things you're most likely to purchase every day. Every administration does this, to hide the real inflation rate for consumers by arguing that grocery, gasoline, natural gas, and fuel oil prices are "too volatile" for true long-term analysis.

I suppose that's true. Still, as consumers, our real cost of living includes food and fuel and we should have accurate analysis of the actual expense we incur in our daily lives--including seeing the costs go down when gasoline drops precipitously. With fuel costs spiraling out of control due to increased demand in developing economies (hello, China and India), instability of supplies (courtesy George W. Bush and staff), and a weakening US Dollar (again, thank you George W. Bush and staff), we need to know the truth. It's true that the cost of fuel is beginning to creep into our other costs (perversely, the most sensitive item to fuel costs is food), but that takes time and is a filtered, secondary effect. Hiding these numbers is part of an effort by governments to avoid the consequences of their policies and decisions. The current government will pay if fuel continues as another hidden tax for a mismanaged federal budget and huge war deficit. It's just that I would prefer NOT to pay hidden taxes like this that affect me more than the wealthy.

How about a tax increase for the top incomes!

CDs listened to today:

  • William Schuman: Symphony No. 10 (Leonard Slatkin conducting)
  • Thad Jones/Mel Lewis Orchestra: Central Park North
  • Gyorgy Ligeti: Requiem
  • Peter I. Tchaikovsky: The Nutcracker
  • Bill Frisell Quartet: (eponymous)
  • Various Artists: Legally Stoned, disk 1
  • William Schuman: Symphony No. 10 (Gerard Schwarz conducting)

Sunday, November 18, 2007

I saw a funny one-liner that made me think.

I was perusing some newspaper columns yesterday, catching up a bit. I've forgotten whose column I was reading, but the writer lampooned the relentless branding of our wars in Iraq and Afghanistan as the "War On Terror™". It's a pithy, near-perfect comment.

Here's the problem: You don't actually wage war against an idea or a practice; you wage that war against people. Whether you oppose that war or not, it is the most serious of human undertakings and shouldn't be marketed like a dad-gummed Hollywood movie. This appears to be part of the strategy of the current administration and their supporters to make the war seem like the right thing, to disassociate the discussion of the war from the too-ugly truth of combat's daily grind. This war is against the peoples of Afghanistan and Iraq–not the concept of terrorism.

Making war on "terror" is like making war on sunsets or war on semicolons.

CDs listened to today:

  • Maurice Ravel: String Quartet
  • Semisonic: Feeling Strangely Fine
  • stellastarr*: (eponymous)

Saturday, November 17, 2007

It's time for a CD review!

This is a disk where I clearly remember why I bought it and from whom. I bought this after reading an online review from the New York Times. The article highlighted some overlooked Grammy Award nominees. I also bought this online from Amazon.com. We've seen so many brick-and-mortar music stores shut down that it's getting easier and easier to buy on the web. I used to have one of the best music stores in town a couple blocks from my house; now, they've moved to another part of the city and I'm buying more and more online.

Absolute Quintet, by Dafnis Prieto is a jazz quintet affair with an unusual instrumentation by traditional standards: drums, piano, cello, violin, and saxophone. We hear a lot of terminology in music discussions, and I may have mentioned this before, but I oppose genre labels as difficult to manage and just plain stupid. So, if I engage in a little of that stupidity, I'll say that this group indulges in a fair amount of latin jazz while also dabbling i what some writers call "chamber jazz". If you accept the idea that chamber jazz is an idea and not a genre, then we can accuse this band of that crime. And what I mean by that term is a form of jazz that emphasizes the traditional sounds, structures and rhythms of jazz, but where jazz since the late 1940s has emphasized improvisation, chamber jazz emphasizes written arrangements and less spontaneity--even for small groups like this.

Like a lot of chamber jazz-influenced acts, the approach gives Mr. Prieto's combo a fairly airless feel, as if the life was squeezed out of the band by the complex arrangements and tunes. When the group is allowed some blowing room, Yosvany Terry, the saxophonist on all but one track, brings up some fire, but this group seems to spend more time thinking than swinging. Pianist Jason Lindner also brings up some nice work when he gets the room, but Prieto's fascination with intricate rhythms just squeezes every idea into a straitjacket of overly complex and shifty underpinnings. Still, the playing is always gorgeous and the tunes are lovely, taking full advantage of the rich sound of double-stopped stringed instruments to make the band sound much bigger than you'd expect. The disk is pleasant enough, but hardly seems worth a Grammy nomination.

5 out of 10.

CDs listened to today:

  • My Morning Jacket: Z
  • Olivier Messiaen: 8 Preludes
  • Sam Phillips: Cruel Inventions
  • Jesus Guridi: Sinfonia Pirenaica

Friday, November 16, 2007

This blog still has no purpose, and here's your proof.

Well, maybe one purpose can be to instruct, so here's an educational video about an important health topic (and no, you'll never get these three-and-a-half minutes back, but it's worth it):



CDs listened to today:

  • Samba Mapalanga: Ujumbe
  • Gunnar de Frumerie: Concerto for Trombone and Orchestra
  • Jay-Z: The Black Album
  • Alban Berg: Lulu Suite
  • Gyorgy Kurtag: Messages of the Late Miss R. V. Troussova
  • The Bill Frisell Quartet: (eponymous)
  • Modest Mouse: The Moon And Antarctica

Thursday, November 15, 2007

I really can't decide what to think of that.

I was wandering around some of the other blogs on this site and found one that had an embedded object from another site--one of those things you get that says if you're more like Homer, Bart, or Lisa Simpson. This one labeled the blog as being a "post-graduate" level. I clicked the link and it takes you to a site where you enter your blog URL and the page evaluates your blog for vocabulary and perhaps sentence structure or something, then assigns a reading level.

This blog is ranked as "junior high".

I'm not too thrilled about being rated as someone who's so illiterate that his blog is marked as "best for 14-year-olds". On the other hand, I strive to write simply, admiring Hemingway more than Faulkner when it comes to prose. I guess I'll live with it and simply claim that my blog is more readable and less pretentious than Mr. "post-grad".

CDs listened to today:

  • Dafnis Prieto: Absolute Quintet
  • Ludwig van Beethoven: Twelve German Dances
  • John Coltrane: Giant Steps
  • Ellen Taaffe Zwilich: Symphony No. 2, "Cello"
  • Elliott Carter: Of Challenge And Of Love
  • William Schuman: Symphony No. 9
  • Frontline Assembly: Gashed Senses & Crossfire

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

10 Things You Don't Know About Men

(with apologies to Esquire)

  1. It's true we like to be like little boys in a big part of our lives. It's not a sign of immaturity, it's a sign of freedom.

  2. Don't say we're all alike--we're not! If you say that, you embarrass yourself. Can you really say that 50 Cent and Al Gore are anything alike? Really?

  3. Women really hold tremendous power over us. Even gay guys are powerless before you. It's not just sex--although that is a big part for most of us--and you should respect that power.

  4. Speaking of gay, most of us don't have any gay leanings. Not one bit. When you see latent homosexuality in a man, it probably says more about you than him. On the other hand, sometimes we see it, too...

  5. We never fail to notice if you have visible panty lines. It doesn't matter if you're 300 pounds and look like you're wearing a bag of cats on your ass, we'll notice. It comes from a lifetime habit of checking you out and we're really not sorry.

  6. Go ahead, say you like sports, that you love the Avalanche, the Rockies, or whatever. We know you don't have the same tribal, male-bonding feelings we do, even if you can tell the difference between the left-wing lock and the neutral-ice trap.

  7. If you suck in bed (figuratively, not literally!), we won't tell you unless you dump us. Frankly, we got laid, so why complain?

  8. Identifying yourself by what you do is existential, not shallow. But we really wish we had a cooler job (except for r kelly...).

  9. Existential activities also mean we don't have to talk about it, during it, before it, or after it. We talk for different reasons than you. Stop sometimes and let us exist. We may even start talking to you about it after a while.

  10. We care about fashion, decorating, cooking (well, eating), and all of that. Just not enough to learn as much as you. Does it really help you to say that "raspberry" is a different color than "cranberry"?
CDs listened to today:
  • Gyorgy Ligeti: Requiem
  • Lucinda Williams: Car Wheels On A Gravel Road
  • Lightning Bolt: Hypermagic Mountain
  • Esa-Pekka Salonen: L.A. Variations
  • Ludwig van Beethoven: Concerto for Violin
  • Matias Aguayo: Are You Really Lost
  • Anthrax: State Of Euphoria

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

I know fine food, but it doesn't always show.

When I buy milk, I get the organic kind, sure. But it really doesn't taste different from the regular kind. It's basically the same feed for the cows; maybe organics get a little more grass, but the same processing, the same homogenization, the same pasteurization, same packaging, and transport processes. Let's not kid ourselves about that! Milk is milk and I buy organic to avoid the hormones and antibiotics while also supporting slightly more sustainable husbandry measures.

But here's where I turn totally Philistine: I buy ultra-pasteurized milk. The purists will tell you that pasteurizing milk deadens the flavor and then they'll claim that the nutrients are destroyed by the heating of the milk (shoot, it probably does change the milk sugars and a bunch of other things). I buy ultra-pasteurized because it has a longer shelf-life in the fridge! I'm a single guy living alone and the only time I drink milk is with cookies (cheese is my preferred dairy source). So a half-gallon of milk lasts a long, long time in my house. I need the extra two or three weeks of storage time--and I still throw out half-drunk cartons.

It gets worse: I found that I actually like the taste of the ultra-pasteurized stuff better than the regular stuff. No, like most Americans, I've never tried unpasteurized (unless I got some in France, unawares). I'll bet there's not a pretentious gourmet out there who would admit to that, but hey, I like slightly cooked milk!


CDs listened to today:

Monday, November 12, 2007

I've been reading about the recent legislation regarding the Foreign Intelligence and Surveillance Act (FISA).

I remain constantly frustrated at the naïveté of those who support expanded powers for the federal government. Today, that is primarily the legislators from the Republican Party and their supporters. They want to expand the powers of the president and his government so that they can spy on people without warrants more easily, jail people without having to show cause or allow due process, and hide these activities from the public and the courts. I can only assume that they trust this president and want to give him the expanded tools they deem necessary to bring those who would attack us to justice.

This is fundamentally contrary to the founders of our nation's view of government and its powers. While the Republicans like to say that not supporting the president in securing our society is "Un-American", I feel that, on the contrary, this expansion of police powers at the expense of proper judicial oversight is profoundly in contrast to the principles on which this nation is founded. The reason the Constitution of the United States specifically outlaws searches (including wiretaps) without warrants and strictly limits the powers of arrest and prosecution is because they didn't trust those in power. Perhaps, as the Bill of Rights was written, they trusted George Washington, but they understood that the next guy might not be so trustworthy. The founders had also seen a government where such rights were not secure and knew what it was like to find soldiers searching their homes.

Americans have traditionally mistrusted government (as they should!). These Republicans seem to miss the import of that mistrust on two levels. First, they place far too great a trust in the current administration. This bunch doesn't seem overly competent, even if you trust them and their motives. How can you guarantee that the FBI and other police authorities aren't abusing their power when the administration is already responsible for oversight at places like the notorious Abu Ghraib prison? In fact, the FBI has already announced that they have violated their own rules in this matter. The government is too big to permit expanded surveillance powers to people who can't be effectively monitored: "Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?" Even if you trust this current administration, you hand these powers to the next president, too. Do you trust him or her, too? Isn't that a little too much faith to put in these guys?

CDs listened to today:

  • Alban Berg: Lulu Suite
  • Olivier Messiaen: Eclairs sur l'Au Dela
  • Sam Phillips: The Indescribable Wow
  • My Morning Jacket: Z
  • Einojuhani Rautavaara: Angel of Light
  • Seal: (eponymous, 1994)
  • Jesus Guridi: Sinfonia Pirenaica
  • William Schuman: Symphony No. 7
  • Teenage Fanclub: Thirteen
  • stellastarr*: (eponymous)

Sunday, November 11, 2007

What's in a name?

Quite a lot, if you think about it. I kinda mentioned this yesterday and want to write about it. While it's true that Shakespeare's rose would still smell sweetly if we called it a dungbomb, I heard a podcast from Scientific American the other day where the reporter quoted the late Stephen Jay Gould, that in biology, when you name something, you are expressing a theory about it. In the biological field of taxonomy, the name of a thing designates what its relationship is to the entire universe of known living things. Perhaps it's part of human nature, or even the nature of rational thought, to categorize, sort, and classify the things we encounter.

Plato spoke of these categories as existing independently of the things themselves, the famous forms, and posited that the rational mind merely discerned how the real things in our world merely "shared" the essence of these ethereal forms. I think most of us would find this preposterous, but it does illustrate a central problem of Western Philosophy: what is the rational component in our perceptions? What is its source and how do ideas interact with the physical world? I certainly can't answer that today, and I'm getting pretty boring, but I enjoy the woolgathering.

So, what do I find fascinating about the problem of naming and classification? I think it's the fact that the possibilities are endless. It's like a puzzle that you don't ever have to finish--and there's no final, correct solution. Even better, the way you organize things can give you new insights into the world itself, discerning new relationships with new categories. To me, this is where most epiphanies and inspirations come from.

Here's the relevance to yesterday's post: I have to organize my extremely large CD collection or I would never find anything! It's a common problem for serious music lovers like me and how you organize the recordings says a great deal about what's important to you and how you came to your love of this hobby. My music collection is first split by media type: vinyl, compact disk, and digital files. This is a distinction that I make unwillingly and is only for the sake of storage! Still, it says something about me that I'm willing to let a distinction that isn't musical become my first level of organization, rather than find a way to interweave these media. For the sake of this discussion, I'm going to ignore the digital media organization--computers make it too easy to change the organization at the click of a mouse and mine is hardly static.

After I separate my CDs from my vinyl, the next level of organization shows that I am both a child of the rock'n'roll/hip-hop era and a classically-trained musician. I separate "Classical" music out from what I think of as "Not-Classical". While I often refer to the "not-classical" as "pop" music, I mean that in the sense of popular, or vernacular, music and not "pop" in the sense of Top 40 or the traditions of that business. My pop collection includes jazz, hip-hop, rock'n'roll, R & B, traditional folk, and ethnic/indigenous music (I'm sure I'm leaving out some genres from that list, but the important thing here is that I resolutely refuse to make those distinctions). When I go to music stores, I actively resent how they sub-categorize both the classical and "pop" sections (even on-line stores are guilty--probably more so). I refuse to make any additional distinctions in terms of genre, style, culture or any such foolishness. It's sheer folly, in my opinion, to try. When you make the narrower distinctions, artists are more likely to come along and make a complete mess of your efforts by combining rock and jazz or ethnic styles with R & B.

I tend to favor acts that don't narrowly follow the tenets of a single genre in pop music, or classical, really, so my next level of distinction is artist and each rack of CDs is sorted by artist. This has its own pitfalls, too, but shows how my theory of music works! After all, should I classify Elvis Costello differently from Elvis Costello and the Attractions? What about duos/trios/quartets where each musician receives equal billing? What if the pop disk has more than one act featured, such as compilations? And who is the artist on a classical CD? The composer? The ensemble? Soloist? Conductor? So I made some decisions on these matters that are not always consistent, but definitely begin to show some of those theories. Yes, if Elvis Costello is the primary artist, it gets sorted as Elvis. If the artists get equal billing, I sort under the artist whose name comes first on the album cover (exception for Kai Winding, the trombonist, who comes first because I'm usually not as interested in the other artists--and I reserve the right to apply this practice to other artists). I know this gets a bit arbitrary and rigid, but saves me much time trying to make what I see as somewhat meaningless decisions. Pop music then gets sorted alphabetically by artist. Like the music stores, people who perform under real or assumed, but recognizable as conventional, names are sorted by last name (Elvis Costello under "C", and not his real name, MacManus; Madonna under "S" and not "C" for her last name, "Ciccone"), while acts that aren't names are sorted by the name--minus any articles like "A" or "The". This doesn't always work since some acts have people's names, but the act is really a band named for a member--or worse, a person who isn't in the band. I get a bit arbitrary here and then never make the decision again. So Ted Leo & The Pharmacists is sorted under "T", but The Reverend Horton Heat is under "H". I'd probably reverse those two if I did it again, but who really cares as long as all the disks by an artist are together? Oh, and compilations all get filed under "Various Artists".

I define the classical artist as the composer. This is the way the music stores do it on CDs with only one composer, although I found that the bit of putting compilation CDs separately, then defining what is or isn't a recital CD that should be sorted under the soloist is a serious waste of energy. When I have multiple artists on the disk (oops, I meant composers), I just select the work whose track or tracks are the longest duration and determine that the CD shall be filed under that composer... I'm not 100% consistent on this. After all, if I have a CD where there are, say, 15 tracks by one composer, all between three and five minutes long, but there is a single six-minute track by a different composer, I'll probably file the CD under the more numerous composer who takes up an hour of the CD running time. Yes, last name first. This is much easier than trying to decide that one work on a CD is more "important" or "better" than the others and deserves to be used for the putative artist designation.

After I file my pop CDs or records under artist, I usually then sort by the title of the disk. If you have an artist like Seal, who has two CDs without title, I call them eponymous and file them in chronological order. I have tried chronological order for some of my disks, usually when I have a fairly complete collection from the artist (like Public Enemy), but I've really discontinued that since you never know when an artist will disappoint you and stop putting out good stuff (see: Public Enemy). With classical, I also sort by title, but based on that same longest work (by duration) artist logic. The hard part is when the work is something like all of the composer's symphonies or all of his string quartets, but then I also struggle with whether I file things under "C" for "Concerto for Violin", or "V" for "Violin Concerto". I usually just choose one, choose the other some other time, and live with the situation.

So why discuss this today? Because I wanted to explain yesterday's CD review where I mentioned that my CD titled "Mexico" is filed as Hebert Vazquez instead of the Arditti Quartet like a music store would--and to justify why Mr. Vazquez gets the pride of artist designation when there are five other composers represented on the disk...

CDs listened to today:

  • Meyer Kupferman: Concerto for Cello, Tape, and Orchestra, disk 2
  • Modest Mouse: Good News For People Who Love Bad News

Saturday, November 10, 2007

I'm a little overdue with this CD review.

As if anybody is expecting me to keep a regular schedule! The disk is listed on my listening journal as Hebert Vazquez's String Quartet No. 1. And this brings up the topic of nomenclature and classification--more on that tomorrow. The formal CD title is simply "Mexico" and is performed by the Arditti Quartet. I probably bought this at the previously-mentioned clearance sale at Tower when it went out of business; I don't recall. I don't have to remember to know why I chose this disc. It was the Arditti Quartet!

These guys are clearly, passionately, dedicated to modernist and contemporary music. While the Arditti is undoubtedly less well-known than the Kronos Quartet of San Francisco, who are also celebrated for their dedication to contemporary composers and music, the Kronos musicians are neither dedicated to Modernism nor are they anywhere near the impeccably musical performers that we find in the Arditti. I know that the movement known as "Modernism" has passed into history and is a tiny bit old-fashioned , but that doesn't take away from the many composers who still work in this rich vein. Nor does it diminish the work of the Arditti. I think that eventually, the elements and principles of Modernism will move alongside the threads of Classicism and Romanticism as one of the great characteristics of art. As we open the 21st Century, it's probably still too soon to clearly define Modernism--they're still debating Romanticism! But if you believe in knowing it when you hear it, a place to start is the recordings and performances of the Arditti Quartet.

In case you haven't guessed from the title, this disk is dedicated to Mexican composers and six of them are represented here with single works. Three of these are actually not for the string quartet, but are more-or-less solo violin pieces performed by the quartet's namesake, Irvine Arditti. I say more-or-less because one of the works is for amplified violin and another is for violin and electronics. German Romero's Ramas is the amplified work and it's a nice exploration of the sounds a violin can only make at very low volumes, assisted by amplification, and the changes that amplification brings to the sound of the fiddle while Rogelio Sosa's Espasmo fulgor takes a traditionally modernist route with seemingly orchestral electronics--a very subtle blend of drama and mystery! When I think of Modernism, I think of the contributions of Expressionism and how important they are: sudden, extreme changes in mood and character. All of the works on this disk show that to some extent, but never in a trivial, theatric manner (like weaker composers and performers may be prone to exploit). That's what I love about the Arditti. These pieces are played with sensitivity, drama, and flair. The superb sound of the team and their incredible group dynamic show a unity of ensemble that's so, so satisfying.

It's hard to believe that the Vazquez quartet is even playable in spots, the textures of interlocking sounds are so intricate at times. It also pleases with some nicely robust rhythmic passages. Hilda Paredes' Uy u'tan shapes up nicely with a tremendous soundscape of static, dissonant held notes interwoven with sudden, sweeping snippets of motion. All of the works on this disk are outstanding, with the possible exception of Juan Felipe Waller's De jaque, sal, gala y luna, which is a fairly routine violin piece that is mostly saved by Mr. Arditti's fine work. I'm filing this disk away now and won't hear it as often anymore. I'll miss it.

9 out of 10

CDs listened to today:

  • Samba Mapalanga: Ujumbe

Friday, November 09, 2007

OK, fun from work--and I have permission to reprint the fun part.

A friend sent me an ESPN.com blog item about football and I noticed that the author, Bill Simmons, lets his wife post a few words as part of the larger post. You can read her hilarious rant here. It's essentially a colorful look at the inner life of a pregnant woman, short-tempered and impatiently waiting for the big day. I shared the bit with my teammates at work, commenting that our teammate who is similarly pregnant is more even-tempered than that! My colleague responded with an even funnier rant than the one I shared. With her permission, I now pass it to you. Enjoy!

Are you serious?

Here's my list, and it's just from this morning:
  • Sorry to the 5 cars that I cut off this morning on the way to work who were driving 54 in a 55 MPH zone. I was in a hurry.
  • Sorry to the guy in front of me in the drive thru at Starbucks who didn't pull up far enough because he was afraid to get his Lexus SUV too close to the car in front of him... I couldn't pull up to order without getting within 2.5 inches from his back bumper. I was in a hurry.
  • Sorry to my 2 year old who told me to go away when I tried to wake her up to get her in the shower. Mommy shouldn't have said "you have to get up every day of your life, get used to it!!!!" I was in a hurry.
  • Sorry to the organizers of the last 5 meetings that I've replied "tentative" to - just because. I'm being proactive because I could go out on maternity leave any minute now. I'm in a hurry.
  • Sorry to my boss, who's reading this and wondering how it is that I have time to just write inane emails. I'll get back to work right now. I'll hurry!
CDs listened to today:
  • Dafnis Prieto: Absolute Quintet
  • Elliott Carter: The Minotaur
  • Bill Frisell with Dave Holland and Elvin Jones: (eponymous)
  • Ellen Taaffe Zwilich: Symphony No. 2, "Cello"
  • Jean Francaix: Wind Quintet No. 1
  • Matias Aguayo: Are You Really Lost
  • Jawbox: For Your Own Special Sweetheart
  • William Schuman: Symphony No. 9