Beff's semester finishes today, and she is due home after dark tonight. Tomorrow night we take Big Mike out for Chinese buffet
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| Call me Martler
Definitely giggle-worthy, and I'm easily able to imagine the ludicrous attack ad the McCain campaign would come up with to criticize me for doing that with Cammy's face. Sorry, "ludicrous attack ad" is redundant in the context of "the McCain campaign". My bad. So the Geoffy experience, mega-edition, also happened, as Geoff was in town for several days not once, but twice, both using the wi-fi and the piano, and doing dinner. He took us out to the Cast Iron Kitchen, I made salmon aioli one night, and there were a few breakfasts on my non-teaching days. He also dropped his new CD with Matt Haimovitz, which is bitchin. He was on the Ditson Contemporary Music Festival last weekend not once, but twice. But here I will have to add some detail about ME. It turns out -- based on circumstantial evidence, I'm rich, and not just because I'm a part owner of a big insurance company. After I was done at school last Wednesday, I removed my shoes and changed into shorts and flip flops because it was nice and warm out. My right foot started hurting right at that point, around the big toe. Wednesday night I actually didn't sleep much because of shooting pain in the toe. On Thursday I had to go into Brandeis to substitute in a TA section that had been left empty because the student teaching it withdrew from the program -- I woke up with a bit of a limp, but was able to get my sneakers on, and I did the section. THEN I drove into Boston to NEC, where Collage was rehearsing my "Imaginary Dances", an overwritten and dense piece that is 22 years old that I never imagined would still be having performances in the 21st century (this was its second in this century). The piece was sounding good, I saw Yehudi, who had a rehearsal just before me, and I drove back home. And I was limping. That night I went to the Neighborhood Pizzeria for dinner, and had to park some ways away, making the limp even more noticeable and the distance feel like even farther. So Friday I got up with more limp-y pain in the foot, and couldn't manage to get a sneaker on it, since it was so painful. So sigh, I went to my health care provider in Wellesley -- interesting, since I had to use the bad foot to accelerate and brake, and it was a 40-minute drive -- where the doctor knew right away what the problem was. I thought it was a strangely pinched nerve that needed chiropracty (is that a word?), but it turns out it was gout. Yes, the rich man's disease. So I was given a prescription of little green pills to take with food, and was sent on my way -- and yes, you know somebody in this room is going to do some things in more moderation, and Jack left town. But that night was the night of the Ditson Festival where my piece was being done. So when I got back I relaxed on the hammock for a while, and the foot flared up in pain and I briefly considered not going. But, I sucked it up, left early, put a slipper on my right foot and a sneaker on my left, drove to the waterfront, since the concerts were at the ICA, and I ate at a little seafood place next door. The clam chowder was great. Then I up and limped to the ICA, bought a ticket for the 6:30 Dinosaur Annex concert and got freebies for the 8:00 Collage/Cantata Singers concert, and, well, there it was. I saw Kate Desjardins there (odd since she lives in Chicago) as well as a lot of the usual suspect, and Fred Lerdahl, too. All of whom asked about the slipper, and all of whom were given the lowdown. Yehudi informed me that the pills work very fast (he turned out to be right), but not within 6 hours. The Dino concert was nifty, featuring pieces with actual senses of humor, but also featuring a family that made a show of walking out during the last piece and making lots of noise in the process. And the hall sounded dry because a lot of black curtains had been set up to make the venue seem smaller. For the Collage/Cantata Singers concert, the curtains were taken away, and a full view of the harbor, and a spectacular one at that, was in evidence. Collage played really great, and my piece sounded good (except for the fact that it was, like, that piece), and the Cantata Singers brought back a few memories with their performance of Irving Fine music. O know to end as to begin, and all that. So when all was done, I limped to my car, having the ability mostly to avoid people who would feel obligated to say something nice, and drove home. Being as I was on a strict every 6 hour regimen for the little green pills, I set my alarm, did the pills, etc. And strangely enough, the foot was a lot better by Sunday afternoon. Still, I didn't go to the rest of the Ditson concerts, but they must have been really good. So endeth the gout saga for now. Yehudi made sure to advise me to keep the leftover green pills in case it happened again. Okay, Yehudi. The week, before, though, was an advanced exercise in time management. Since Beff had left early for the marching band observation, Sunday was free for writing, and so I went rhought all the Mary Kirkendoll flute movies she made here back in June, and started a flute etude for her using tongue rams and beat boxing in moderation. (The red "Mary" link above will remind you of those movies, evident here last June) With writing all day Sunday, and then all day Tuesday (my new time management skills gave me all of Tuesday to work because my grading was accomplished Monday evening), I finished an etude which was three and a half pages in Mikey paper score. Entered into Finale, it came out to eight pages, and I finished entering the notes Friday morning during throbbing time for my toe. I consider it a draft, since I've asked Mary to look it over, etc., and she's about to embark upon her honeymoonness. But YOU, dear reader, may take a gander by clicking on the "Flootood 1" link up there on the left. And what's left? According to the McCain campaign, it's the press. Rim shot. But, well, and ... well, tomorrow is an Arts Convivium where a bunch of Brandeis faculty and administration get together for mid-price wine and expensive crackers and not-yet-gone-by fruit and esoteric cheese and then listen to a few faculty talk about what they've been doing lately. I am such a faculty for tomorrow's edition, so I'm looking forward to the mid-price wine. And then I have the week after this one more or less off because of holidays and calendar adjustments, so I'm planning on embarking on at least two etudes: the prog rock etude suggested so long ago by Rick Moody and discussed at length during the Mega Geoffy Experience; and another one, possibly the one with toy piano. Not many pictures taken this last coupla weeks, so I up and went outdoors this morning for some new ones. But first, some older ones. When fishing out manuscript paper for the flootood, I discovered an old sheet from 2003 at Yaddo and a false start on etude #58 -- as you may know, the etude rule is no revision, just restarting, so when this opening sucked, I did what I did with all such false beginnings. To its right, see the flootood on its way. Kinda. Then a coupla obligatory cat pix, quince on the bush, shrooms, the former apple tree, and the electricity meter STILL not reconnected to the house since the siding job was done. OCTOBER 4 (with a little added OCTOBER 5). Breakfast was bacon, egg and cheese sandwiches, potato pancakes, orange juice and coffee. Dinner last night was a Hot Pockets "Bruschetta Chicken Panini," which turned out to be more like mush surrounding refried beans surrounding two little chunks of dry chicken -- not to be purchased again. Lunch was two Boca Italian sausage sandwiches with mustard and hot sauce. TEMPERATURE EXTREMES SINCE LAST UPDATE 38.7 and 73.2. MUSIC GOING THROUGH MY HEAD AS I TYPE THIS "Berceuse", etude no. 87. LARGE EXPENSES THIS LAST TWO WEEKS Two bottles of 1999 Brunello, $98. POINTLESS NOSTALGIC REMINISCENCE: I have precisely one baseball hero story in my arsenal, and it's doozylike. I was a member of the Cardinals in Little League, at age 12, and we played six-inning games in a four-team league. My second year on the Cardinals was interrupted by two or three weeks at home with my first serious asthma. After I returned I saw spotty service, but I did get put into a game as the second baseman, and it was tied after six innings. In the bottom of the seventh, I was first up, and I hit a bloop single just over the second baseman's head. My coach advised against trying to steal a base, but on the second pitch, I ran for second, and the throw from the catcher sailed into center field. So I ran to third, where the throw from the center fielder went towards the dugout. So I ran to home, and we won. And oddly, after I scored I saw that the coach was a nervous wreck. NUMBER OF HAIRCUTS I GOT LAST WEEK: 0. CUTE CAT THINGS TO REPORT: Sunny is becoming progressively more vocal, and sometimes he does the silent meow thing. And Cammy has taken up a perch in the attic overlooking the back yard. UPDATED ON THIS SITE THIS WEEK: Bio, Compositions, Performances, Recordings. THIS WEEK'S MADE-UP WORD: tursch -- an ancient contraction of turf and mensch, although it remains obscure to this day what it was intended to mean. RECOMMENDATION AND PROFESSIONAL LETTERS WRITTEN THIS LAST TWO WEEKS: 6. FUN DAVY FACT YOU WON'T READ ANYWHERE ELSE When I was a kid, I had a "Thingmaker" which used "plastigoop" in molds to make, well, things -- mostly rubberish insects. WHAT THE NEXT BIG TREND WOULD BE IF I WERE IN CHARGE: Instant rewind where Karl Rove politics never existed. PHOTOS IN MY IPHOTO LIBRARY: 12,503. WHAT I PAID FOR GASOLINE THIS MONTH: $3.45 in Maynard, though I see it for $3.35 now. OTHER INANIMATE OBJECTS THAT WOULD BE A BETTER PRESIDENT THAN THE CURRENT ONE a cherry without a stone, a forgotten rerun of The Love Boat, several suggestions for how to improve the flow of sludge between your fingers, the shape of your mouth when you think about the color red. There's a parting coming, and it's not going to be governed by how we move our knees. For you see, after the fox makes fried chicken, we have to tell the people in charge of refrigeration how to make their flashlights warmer, and without that precondition we could take the saw and force it into the tree. But perhaps I have gone too far. Nonetheless, there aren't more than seventeen people in the world with a direct knowledge of medieval potty training. Dear reader, plenty has transpired since the last update, and this update is actually a little early. I am on the deathly ill side due to having caught Geoffy's cold, which is at the phlegmification stage wherein talking is not a viable option and honey and lemon (called "remedy" by me 'n' Beff) in hot water is a staple. Nonetheless, there was plenty of health of which to speak before all of this, and I'm sure plenty of health out there in front of me. Indeed, so much work has gotten done that I'm taking the day off (today is Saturday, and what it is, too), beginning with an update. Though my schedule will clump pretty dramatically starting next week. When last we spoke (figuratively), I was about to embark on a "prog rock" etude at the behest of Rick Moody and with input from Geoffy. That embarkment happened, shortly after I finished typing the update, and continued throughout that day. The next day, Wednesday, was a big teaching day with a convivium (we pronounced the v's as w's for almost three seconds of complete hilarity) in the late afternoon in the Slosberg lobby. Four of us went on about ourselves, including me, and we all went on too long. Though it was good to have Wayne there to demonstrate "beatboxing", something that goes on to a small degree in the flutudes I am writing. Did I mention the flutudes? Well, not yet, because last time I was calling them flootoods. I'm much better now. Anyway, before the conwiwium (another two seconds of total hilarity there, n'est-ce pas? -- that's French) I managed to get all of my Music 5 grading done so I wouldn't have to bring it home for my felicitously timed holidays. Thus I came back from Slosberg with only Music 103 homework to grade. So. During the summer I received an e-mail from Jenny Chai, an excellent pianist doing a graduate degree in modern music performance at the Manhattan School of Music, asking for program notes for an Italian radio broadcast with her playing my E-Machines. She said she had done it in New York last February, which was news to me -- as was this Italian radio broadcast. We've kept on an e-mail correspondence, and during this last reporting period, she sent me a DVD of the February recital. I was able to extract the performance of E-Machines and stick it on YouTube, a nice blue link down to the left, and I can report that she is learning a bunch of Catalogue d'Oiseaux for a big performance at the Chelsea Art Museum later this month (the 23rd, I think). With the Rosh Hashanah holiday at Brandeis and a Tuesday schedule taking place on Monday, I effectively had the week off, which I used to my advantage. Geoffy was here for some of it, as he had a Musica Viva gig this week, and both Geoff and Beff were here for a small part of the weekend -- Beff not getting here until Saturday because She Is The Chair. Meaning on Saturday I made some nice beef kebabs from Whole Paycheck and we washed it down with some nice 2000 Brunello. And Sunday we had chicken and Pinot Grigio, I do believest. Then Beff went back very early Monday morning, and returned Wednesday evening. And why Wednesday? To drive to Philadelphia for a conference Thursday morning, silly. I mean, really. No, really. So Geoffy was here that evening, and we did salmon (because he was too sick to go out) aioli with 1999 Brunello, very tasty, very rich and complex. The wine, that is. And so Beff got up at 4:45 Thursday morning and got to Philly for lunch, having driven the entire way. Today she gets back in time for a late dinner. We will have salmon aioli and 1999 Brunello. Meanwhile, Geoffy has been around all week, too, occasionally using the piano to practice, occasionally practicing at Brandeis, and of course rehearsing. Because his job at Hunter College also gives him Rosh Hashanah off. But also plenty of e-mail to answer. So while all this was going on, I wrote three piano etudes and a flute etude, now called a flutude. Which gives me two. But lemme splain. The Prog Rock etude, #86, as I noted earlier, was started on Tuesday by virtue of my getting my Mus 5 grading out of the way early, and I made substantial progress on it. Then I spent all Thursday and Friday on it, and part of Saturday, finishing the inputting by the time Beff arrived. Geoffy and I listened and marveled at the MIDI of it, and Geoffy suggested something that I incorporated: repeat the opening riff more times with an option to add transpositions and riffs over it -- also in the recapitulation, which I did. He plans to premiere the sucker in Canada in February and give the American premiere at Hunter College on the 26th of March, dear reader, should you be in New York. I also ran it by Rick, who was somewhat astonished that his offhand suggestion got turned into an actual etude. He got ELP from the beginning (all those sus-4 chords), and Geoff's suggestion of a block structure (like most prog rock) also kinda got incorporated. And the last bar is simply a repeat of a much earlier bar because, well, because, as a prog rocker, I can. It's the only etude with "pretentious" in the tempo marking (well, so far). When I had described this project in the conwiwium (two more seconds of hilarity there), one participant told me after, "one thing you neglected to say about prog rock -- it seems much longer than it actually is." Well said, said well, conwiwium guy. After that was said, done, said some more, and done, Beff got in, we did the married couple thing for a day and a half (while a hurricane passed due west of us), and off she went on Monday. At which point I took out the old Jaymar toy piano that Beff bought at a flea market years 'n' years ago (I also have a Schoenhut in my office and Geoffy has my other Jaymar in New York for Cage performances) and embarked on a five-finger etude berceuse. For you see, when Rick Moody told me that he and his Amy were expecting, I promised to write him a berceuse before the expected was actual. It turns out he had no idea what a berceuse is, which would explain his lack of response. So in any case, I decided to make this one, #87 the ONE in Book 9 that I can play, and for that I turned to Stravinsky. Uh, because he's got a bunch of five-finger etudes. And I made up some weird five-finger positions (cross your fingers is more like it) for something quasi-but-not-quite octatonic and in 7 but not in 7, etc. and sent it to Rick and Amy. Since the MIDI would have sucked (the five-finger positions being actual notes in it), Geoff read through it on the Jaymar from a sitting position and we YouTubed it. To do that, first Geoff had to get a spider out of the cushions I imported from the porch, and in the video itself, Sunny makes a cute cameo appearance near the end. Rick said he framed it, which is cool. And Amy told him what a berceuse is. AND THEN, and then, and then. Time for another flutude, the ideas for which started popping, popcorn-like, into my head as I was waking up on Tuesday morning. So on Tuesday and Wednesday I finally did the keyslap etude for Mary, and it turned out just fine. In this case, the key slaps are contrasted with tongue pizzicatos, with lots of double tonguing (Mary likes to double tongue), and it seems like a show stopper or a gob stopper, or something with a lot of vowels or consonants or diphthongs in it. Mary is still on her mieleluna (the Italian-but-not-Italian for honeymoon), so when she's back she'll comment on both flutudes. And by the way, as was the original intent, I called this one Slap Happy, and came up with a name for the first one on tongue rams: Ram Tough. Because I am Joe Six-Pack sher yabetcha get back to ya on that looking backwards. That one was actually quite complicated to put into Finale, what with all the extra notation frills, but I diddit, yes sir. Good thing, too, because that night in came Beff for salmon, etc., as detailed above. And by the way, you can still see a bit of Mary's demos by clicking on the red Mary K link up and to the left. So Thursday it was time for another long-considered etude, the one with toy piano. The hardest part of this piece was the title, and believe me, I went through every possible pun with toy and boy and tri and tie, and came up with the title TOYED TOGETHER. For you see, it's the piano TOGETHER with the toy piano. Well, it's what I could do on short notice. And yes, there's a lot of unison between the two hands on the different pianos (Davy steals from his piano concerto), but some actual counterpoint, and a few other screws and nuts and whistles and bells and what have you. It occurred to me afterwards that the opening faux-blues licky stuff may be related to a synthesizer solo in a tune by the Brand New Heavies, but then again, I could be wrong. I could only call the lick to mind, but not the rest of the song. And so, last night, I had entered the entire piece, sent it to a few people, and ... I'm bushed! Dear reader, you may view scores, etc. in the links to the left. Meanwhile, on Thursday, that sickness that Geoff had started to be a gift I received from him. Scratchy throat, coughy, no runny nose or nuthin', but it's definitely one of those things where not talking is much preferred to talking. I've been doing much honey and lemon in hot water, and it kinda helps, but it's a little addictive. Also CVS tropical fruit soothing vapor drops and honey and lemon drops, and it's all just so complicated. Unfortunately, I'll probably be just fine by the time teaching up and starts up again. And all I have to do between then and now is grade Theory 2 homeworks. But wait, there seems to be more. Last night I was a little perturbed about the smell of maybe diesel fuel or heating oil around here, and we get that smell once in a while. It was definitely noticeable overnight, but I thought it was going away. This morning I got up before Geoffy and noticed the smell was still around but not evident in my basement (where the furnace and oil tank are), so I thought less of it. And as I, bathrobed, was making us the complicated breakfast with which this update begins, I called in Sunny from outside, and noticed the smell stronger, looked at the furnace chimney, and spied thick white smoke coming out. Turns out the smoke was actually black, and the white was some steam ... nonetheless, the furnace was coming on once in a while because it also heats the water in the hot water tank, and I went downstairs to look, and a bunch of smoke/steam came from various apparati when the furnace kicked in, and the thick smoke kept coming out, so, sigh ... after eating my lovely complex breakfast I called Dunn Oil's emergency line (we have a maintenance agreement), and the technician who lives just around the corner called, I turned said furnace off, and as I type this he is working on it. The latest is that it was clogged (duh), he's cleaning it out, and he'll have news once there is news. Poop. Whoops, I too soon spoke. Blockage in the chimney, is cleaned out, investigation happening as to the cause, but it doesn't look expensive. So for the moment, lots of smoke in the house, smoke detectors going off occasionally, and all the windows, and front door, open. And I am slowly getting black lung. Or maybe whitish-black lung. UPDATE OCTOBER 5: the technician said the problem with clogging was due to a faulty nozzle, presumably the same nozzle he installed during routine maintenance last February. New nozzle installed. My schedule reclumps after Monday, so the next update should be about on time, around Tuesday the 21st. Two days before my Yale colloquium. And what else is new? Not so much. I really am sort of composed out (which is a pun if you've taken Schenkerian theory or sat in a grad seminar where people try to sound impressive about stuff they know nothing about, which is redundant), so I am grateful not to have any really, really pressing piece to write. Though ... and as was brought up by my collaborators in the conwiwium ... I have to write a bunch of incidental music for the spring production of Hecuba and get the tracks laid down in Jan or Feb. -- but that's quick stuff. Plus, apparently, some of the chorus part will have to be set to be sung, and that's my job, too ... And, sigh, I have itsy bitsy ideas for a third flutude. Possibly soon to become bigsy wigsy ideas. Other pieces hang in the balance, which just goes to show you. Today's pictures begin with two Yearbookyourself.com photos from a picture Ken took of me in April '06. The rest were taken with the little white Sony camera that's been laying around unused since the spring, using its ISO no-flash mode, which seems to be the default. So we have the piece furniture in the dining room showing the chicken jug, the obligatory cat photo, the two-keyboard setup for the composition of #88, Geoffy reading the Globe in the morning, the prog rock etude in progress, and a bigass piece of lasagna from Whole Foods defrosting in the kitchen. Bye. OCTOBER 19. Breakfast was bacon, egg and cheese sandwiches, potato pancakes, orange juice and coffee. Dinner last night was salmon with lemon pepper aioli, broccoli, salad, and a red wine from the Barbi winery. Lunch was chicken sausage with peppers from Whole Foods. TEMPERATURE EXTREMES SINCE LAST UPDATE 32.7 and 70.9. MUSIC GOING THROUGH MY HEAD AS I TYPE THIS Ladder of Escape, for 12 bass clarinets, by Michael Smetanin. LARGE EXPENSES THIS LAST TWO WEEKS My yearly cheapo percussion instruments from Musician's Friend, $99.97. POINTLESS NOSTALGIC REMINISCENCE: I played on our elementary school soccer team when I was in eighth grade at the very persistent badgering of its coach, also the Phys Ed instructor. I played left wing, and scored 4 goals in a 10-game schedule, including a goal in our first game about 5 seconds in. We won that game 1-0. NUMBER OF HAIRCUTS I GOT LAST WEEK: 0. CUTE CAT THINGS TO REPORT: Sunny came in one afternoon obviously after rooting around somewhere and was gray with dirtiness. And of course, they both sleep on the bed in the bedroom now. UPDATED ON THIS SITE THIS WEEK: This page. THIS WEEK'S MADE-UP WORD: cremolion, with the stress on the second syllable; an ancient mead-based concoction used to flavor sausages. RECOMMENDATION AND PROFESSIONAL LETTERS WRITTEN THIS LAST TWO WEEKS: 9. FUN DAVY FACT YOU WON'T READ ANYWHERE ELSE I can crack either thumb knuckle at will. WHAT THE NEXT BIG TREND WOULD BE IF I WERE IN CHARGE: This never-ending political campaign is finally over. PHOTOS IN MY IPHOTO LIBRARY: 12,569. WHAT I PAID FOR GASOLINE THIS WEEK: $2.89 in Maynard. OTHER INANIMATE OBJECTS THAT WOULD BE A BETTER PRESIDENT THAN THE CURRENT ONE a ticket stub from a Red Sox game that was postponed due to rain, something that feels nice until you open your eyes, kitty litter that stuck to your cat's butt, a positive test for funkiness, twelve rocks that together can predict the future, an adverb that looks like a clock. Download 2.79 Mb. Share with your friends:
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