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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| And so I was going to Chicago because on Monday the 8th the Chicago Chamber Musicians -- a local professional group that gives lots of concerts -- were giving a Composer Perspective concert curated by Lee Hyla, and he programmed three of his pieces, the Crumb Eleven Echoes, and my Hyperblue. I had originally been tapped to spend February 8 and 9 in Santa Cruz for an external review panel (joysville), but since that got postponed, I got to do Chicago instead. And do it I did, sort of by definition. And so I flew to Chicago in an eventless flight, maneuvered through the labyrinth of O'Hare to get my bag -- which had already been on the carousel long enough to start collecting dust -- caught a cab to Lee and Kate's place in the meatpacking district, and when I and the cab got there, I and my bags went in. Thus I got to reunite with our former Camry, parked outside, and see their "new" place in an old warehouse -- a beautiful and tastefully decorated place with views of the Sears Tower, and with 15 foot ceilings. Hot diggity. We got Kate'skype up and a-running (including a call with Beff) and fixed her OS X e-mail, and then she took me to Roosevelt University for my Hyperblue rehearsal.
And so she did. The rehearsal was on the 14th floor, meaning taking an elevator, walking halfway around the building, and taking another elevator, and the room has a heating fan that made lots of noise, thus making it hard to rehearse soft stuff. But I met the players in my trio, got to hear them play, made voluminous comments (which is unlike me -- but since they were already sounding great it was easy to layer in some nuances), and then Lee and I cabbed it back Leewards. For you see -- there was then a Super Bowl party to get to, and it was at Bernard and Gusty's place. Woo hoo! As I recall, Lee was for the Saints, and I didn't care who won as long as Indianapolis lost, and we both got our wish. As for other ironic context, I had first met Bernard properly in 1986 at a Super Bowl party -- this one at my apartment in Brookline. Patriots 10, Bears 44. So we all three cabbed it (I was to take lots of cabs on this trip) to Gusty's, started the festivities, took pix of HER view (she has the lake and the south of Chicago, among other things), and started the consumption of consumables. As usual, more food was available than was necessary. And Stacy and Joe then came, then Amy B, and Adam Marks. So it was a Davy-fest in a way, and as fun as fun can be. I had lots of uncured pepperoni and cucumbers, and, well, there you have it. I spent a not insignificant portion of the game in the living room having conversations about stuff I don't recall -- but I was in the room for the interception that sealed the Colts's fate as well as soiling Peyton Manning's legacy (which may be a euphemism, dunno). And then we had a brief drink on the way home, and cabbed it back. I then slept. Monday morning was a proliferation of dress rehearsals, and it was great to hear Lee's pieces twice that day -- including a piece called "Warble", which is, as far as I know, the only Lee Hyla piece I have ever been entirely comfortable describing as "charming". Wilson's Ivory Bill, one of my favorite pieces of all-time by any composer living or dead, was on the program, and after the rehearsals Lee and Kate and Lee's singer and I ate at a crab place to the north (except for the fish taco, the food was pretty good, and Kate kept apologizing for the slow service). Then there was the drive back home in our old Camry, naps, and then getting to the gig itself -- first Stacy moderated a talk with Lee and then Lee and me, and we answered questions as eptly as we could. The concert itself was a smash, there was pizza at the reception, and the U of Chicago faculty who were in attendance didn't seem to be able to find me afterwards. Then we went home and slept. Tuesday morning Lee took the Metra to Evanston for his teaching, and a snowstorm of unusual proportion began. Kate and I walked around in it while she explained various aspects of the meatpacking district (pig's heads play a rather large part, dear reader, both in actuality and in cartoon), we had lovely sandwiches and wine, and by the time six inches had fallen, I took a cab to Northwestern to give a colloquium. Which I did, apparently to much secret weeping and gnashing of teeth by them what were in attendance of it. After said colloquium, Lee got me to a cab to get to the Airport Doubletree, which in now 10 inches of snow and still falling, was quite a harrowing little ride. I had spicy Bloody Maries there, caprese, and cheeseburger sliders, asked for a 3:45 wakeup call, and got the 4:15 shuttle to the airport offered by the Doubletree -- who, by the way, charged $11.34 extra (plus tax) for wi-fi. Now the snowstorm was over in Chicago, but it was on its way east, and all flights to DC, NYC, and North Carolina were cancellato (as they say in Italy -- or probably tutti i voli eranno cancellati). But not Boston, which had a Winter Storm Warning for eight inches of snow, starting in the afternoon. So I and my fellow United passengers flew over the storm, thus beating it to Boston, I got my bag -- collecting dust again -- and hightailed it to Brandeis for my Wednesday teaching. I made it to my 11 am lesson with six minutes to spare. Mid-lesson, Brandeis decided to close at 1 for the snowstorm (it was still just flurries outside). So I did my noon lesson, e-mailed my Theory 2 class, now cancelled, and drove home, cheerful that I was beating the big snow --- by a lot, it turns out. Final tally in Maynard: a bit less than an inch. I was able to go outside after the storm and BLOW the sidewalks clean. But I swept them nonetheless. Thursday was a day of makeup lessons and office hours for Theory 2 students, as well as a department meeting. Then home came I to pack and so forth. But first there was a makeup lesson at 8:30 via Skype which was way fun, since we utlized the "screen share" feature. And on Friday I had a makeup lesson and a drive to Bangor. Why? It was how I was going to get to Bangor. For Friday night, David Feurzeig from UVM was giving a free ragtime/stride/Bach piano recital. Who could pass that up? And so there it was, it was great, and David stayed at our little ol' place with his daughter Zoe. We bought them pizza at Pat's while the opening ceremonies from the Olympics went on, and home we went. Next day was a tour of Bangor (eight minutes) followed by them driving back to Vermont. And Beff and I had dinner in downtown with Liz and Denny, and with Chip and Charlie at the Sea Dog the next day. Midst a bunch of shopping -- had to get a new electric razor, for instance, since the old one was broken to the point of cutting me when I shaved, as well as olive antipasto, Bodum bistro coffee makers, etc. And this morning I drove back, cats in ... hand? ... and they were happy to be able to look outside and go outside, etc. I went into Brandeis for Brandeis biz, and back I am now, typing this update while the yards are nearly clear of snow, and it is dusk outside. The rest of this week I am on vacation, but will be going on Wednesday to New York for our yearly tax meeting with Jonathan, and will be staying with Marilyn and George and Goldie -- returning Thursday. Woo hoo! Then Beff's back, we do the Cast Iron Kitchen on Friday, and all is well. Time to get out my recording of Ladies Who Lunch and transcribe it. Meanwhile, Rick Moody has been doing a monthly music blog for some time now, and a few days ago he did an entry about me. It's an aw shucks kind of thing for me, but certainly it's some of the best writing and writing about music you'll encounter. See "Therumpus" link up there and to the left. I could sure use some pizza. Upcoming. Stuff. No more travel till April, so that's good, in a non-traveling sort of way. Lent begins this Wednesday, and like last year, I am giving up Facebook for Lent. Not because I am devout enough to give up stuff for Lent. It's just that it's good every once in a while to have an ironclad reason not to waste time with Facebook. Which I like. But which I loathe. They both begin with L. And we have a Winter Storm Watch for tomorrow for 2-4, 4-6, 3-6 or 3-8 inches of snow, depending on which Them What Make webpage you look at. Dadburn Alberta Clippers that pick up extra moisture from the Gulf of Maine, I curse thee ... The first two of this week's pix were taken on Gusty's camera at the Super Bowl party -- Gusty, Amy, me, and Me, Amy, Kate. Dunno why I am so pink. Next, the snow cover shots of Maynard and Bangor (not much, eh DC readers?). Then Sunny in Bangor above the covers and below them. Then Beff, David Feurzeig and Zoe in our dining room Saturday morning. And finally, a pic by Laura Schwendinger of me and a writer whose name will occur to me later, in the fountain in the mansion at Yaddo in June, 2007. Bye. FEBRUARY 28 Breakfast was Trader Joes french toast, blueberries, orange juice, and coffee. Dinner last night was steak tips from Shaws and Polish fries. Lunch was Trader Joes shrimp tempura. TEMPERATURE EXTREMES SINCE LAST UPDATE 21.0 and 48.7. MUSIC GOING THROUGH MY HEAD AS I TYPE THIS "Give Me Your Love", Tower of Power. LARGE EXPENSES SINCE LAST UPDATE heating oil $452, Whole Foods $106. COMPANIES THAT HAVE NOT COVERED THEMSELVES IN GLORY The United States Postal Service, for managing to smash into several pieces the CD of Mikronomicon before delivering it to me; and Merrill Lynch for taking so long to get the 1099s to us -- after our tax appointment, even. COMPANIES THAT HAVE COVERED THEMSELVES IN GLORY The Pickle Guys, for the exceedingly fine picklage absconded from New York. PET PEEVE people who toss trash out of their cars onto Great Road so that we have to pick it up. POINTLESS NOSTALGIC REMINISCENCE: The first day I taught at Brandeis I wore a suit and tie, always knowing that it would never happen again. Marty was amused, and made it part of Brandeis lore for many years to follow. In years to follow, I always dress down on any day of teaching that precedes Labor Day, since I think teaching before Labor Day is dumb. I'd say at least half of those first days I taught in shorts and a t-shirt. NUMBER OF HAIRCUTS I GOT LAST WEEK: 0. CUTE CAT THINGS TO REPORT: The stretchy version of Cammy on the bed in the morning, and the hanging out by the little catnip patch and nuzzling it in back. UPDATED ON THIS SITE THIS WEEK: This page, Reviews 4, Reviews 5, Performances. THIS WEEK'S MADE-UP WORD: bloudge, unclear whether it means being poked with an elbow, or the concept of elbowness itself. RECOMMENDATION AND PROFESSIONAL LETTERS WRITTEN THIS LAST TWO WEEKS: 7. FUN DAVY FACT YOU WON'T READ ANYWHERE ELSE I have earlobes of size. WHAT THE NEXT BIG TREND WOULD BE IF I WERE IN CHARGE: Everybody buys the score of Hyperblue and says, "Hmmm." PHOTOS IN MY IPHOTO LIBRARY: 14,484. WHAT I PAID FOR GASOLINE RECENTLY $3.09 in Connecticut, $2.59 in Maynard. A PARTIAL LIST OF THINGS THAT DON'T RHYME WITH "WART" sticky gold stars, the corner of the bedroom, some wainscotting I forgot about, a head of steam. One for the money, six for the tent, lollipops for the intransigent, and then we make pie. To negotiate the stream of pipe, haven't they traditionally turned into starch, or at least found the megabyte of independence from earlier? Because it occurs to me that when triple tap water is converted from plastic, the end of a cigarette butt suffers. But really. It is another Sunday morning with the unusual quality of a bit of sunshine out there. Weather has been all over the place -- in fact, no matter where you go, there it is -- and we here in eastern central southern New England haven't had as much as a lot of people have had. Nonetheless, Them What Make have been busy getting it mostly right, except when it counts getting it mostly terribly, terribly wrong. The eight inches equals one inch storm was noted here earlier. The storm coming the Tuesday after Valentine's Day, and thus after the most recent posting here, was all over the map on the forecasts, even moment by moment. In the end, there were eight heavy inches, necissitating a future payment of $45 for snow removal, but I'm worth it. And this last week has been quite weatherful, since some sort of blocking pattern caused a storm to loop-the-loop over us, giving a foot and a half of snow to New York and about three or four inches of RAIN to us here -- indeed, the Flood Warnings on the Them What Make page go onto another page. The Assabet has been at flood stage, and that's good for agribusiness --- if there were any over here at all. But in this weird upside-down February, we continue to have bare lawns while to the south of us they count the snow in feet. As a sidebar, I've been counting my feet in snow for many years, and I always get two. I did my February vacation thing (or in common parlance, my vacation), which included staying home on Tuesday because of the snow. I had spent idle time on Monday transcribing Ladies Who Lunch, as well as going out to lunch precisely because I am worth it. But on Wednesday I up and drove to Manhattan, and this time not because I am worth it. For you see, I had a 12:30 appointment in midtown with Jonathan to do our taxes, and it was the usual whirlwind: he always gets a bit behind because he loves to chat, and there's another guy in the office doing the beezywork of entering the more mundane numbers into the return. And then the fun of explaining why there's a new car purchase, codifying energy-saving deductions (turns out the new windows and new porch door qualify -- woo hoo!), and on and on. And then -- I could have driven back right then and there (well, not there, but then...), but Marilyn and George (and Goldie) had made a standing invitation (the chairs were in the shop) for me to stay there, and even at eight months pregnant Marilyn wanted to do it. So there was a fun evening of pizza and artichoke dip, learning about Goldie, watching the parenting happen, and all. And my route there included walking just about the entire length of Canal Street -- thus brushing the edge of Chinatown and the entrance to the Manhattan Bridge. I was a bit early, so I checked out the neighborhood, including the ingestment of a Bloody Mary in an Irish pub, and a side trip down Essex Street that revealed -- The Pickle Guys! Ah yes, The Pickle Guys. I had read about them in the NYTimes and had ordered pickles from them, which I liked, but they got the orders wrong both times, and the shipping costs were astronomical, so I hadn't been back. BUT, my friends, dear readers, and things that begin with 'x', I relished (to coin a term) the opportunity to see the, um, retail store as it were. Which basically is a bunch of guys hanging out on the sidewalk by a fake barrel, going into a room, half the size of my bedroom, of nothing but barrels, and pointing and drooling. In my case, especially drooling. I brought a bunch of spicy sour and tomatilloes with me to Marilyn and George and Goldie's, and brought them back home with me, and have been doing what you are supposed to do with them. So ... that was cool. I also got to participate in the local doughnut place, which makes several unusual varieties, including one with rose petals. Non ti merdo. So when I got back on Thursday, all the snow had already fallen from the roof and I had to shovel it (snow falling from the roof happens often after snowstorms, often very dramatically and with a big noise that makes the cats scurry to get under the couch), the Maids came to clean the house, and yet again out I went for lunch. I was worth it, and still am. After which I began my piano styling of Ladies Who Lunch -- which begins with a introductory treatment of the main motives that sounds like Debussy if he had eaten nothing but doughnuts. I don't know what it means either. Beff then came for her customary short weekend thing, and we did the things we do when Beff is here for her short weekend thing. This included getting to the Cast Iron Kitchen right when they open so as to get the booth, taking various walks, and all that jazz. We raked up pine cones from the back yards, and removed a segment of the fence that was kind of droopy. Then back went Beff, and little more did I do on my LWL setting. Since the lawns were now bare (again!), I noticed that there was a buttload of acorns still in the yard behind the garage, and just walking caused considerable slippage. So during the day on Sunday I kept making trips outdoors to rake up and discard pile upon pile of said acorns -- which with the fallen pine cones of winter's brunt (I like pretentiousness in small doses) added three to the season total of rakage -- dear reader, we are now at 112. And counting. For you see, school was about to be back in session, and much was to be done. Thanks to the fake snowstorm that cancelled class, many additional office hours needed to be scheduled by me, which I did -- after class on Monday for what seemed like forever, as well as two hours midday on Tuesday, just before we were to get snow or rain or rain to snow or snow to rain or rain and snow or sleet and rain. Indeed, almost hourly the forecast changed. On Tuesday night substantial rain pounded the house making a sound that you've probably heard before ("the sound of rain", they call it), and I retired early in order to unretire early. Then at about 10:30 there was kitty commotion coming from Beff's closet, and eventually I spied dear Sunny with a mouse in his mouth. What I saw was actually the mouse's tail, but you get the idea. Kitties being kitties, they didn't want to just kill the mouse -- they wanted to play with it. So around and around ran said mouse, then down the stairs, then up the stairs, and soon all was still. Back bedwards went I, only to stir a bit at 3:30 -- at which point I noticed "the sound of rain" was no longer happening -- and I heard a faint scratching sound in the computer room. The cats, who had returned to the foot of the bed, sprang to action. Moi-meme, I sighed and followed them, and encountered said mouse -- looking a bit more like a watercolor painting of a mouse than a mouse (what's up with that?) -- trapped under the subwoofer of my computer speakers. Gently I picked it up, using a towel, and outed it via the window. At which point I noticed everything outside was white. So ... well, I was awake, so ... I did laundry. And since my first comp student had cancelled, I didn't need to go in so early. Thus, outside I went into the slop storm and shoveled two cementy inches of wet snow/sleet/rain. I put the laundry in the dryer. I made coffee. I had breakfast. And still it was before sunrise. So, wet, tired, achy, I went in eventually and did my teaching. By the time of my Brandeis escape, the precip was heavy rain, and with all the new whiteness, there was plenty of ponding on the roads, so it was just like a motorboat ride home. I think I even had my own wake, and I could easily have taken a hitchhiker on skis home. There's nowhere else to go with this joke. Meanwhile, this same big rainstorm was much, much snow to the north and west, and Beff and Liz were supposed to drive to Burlington, Vermont to give a concert. Uh uh, said the weather. So they rescheduled for March 31. And because of that rescheduling, Beff and I will be interviewed, this afternoon, for the Vermont classical station. Who knows why? Geoffytime is back with us, so much Musica Viva stuff is getting done -- concert coming up, as well as concerts in England, where Mikronomicon gets its east of the Atlantic premiere on the 27th. But am I bitter? Lick me and find out. No, wait ... So Geoffy was here for a rehearsal (luckily his drive was mostly on the rain side of the storm), and to commemorate that, Musica Viva FINALLY -- after more than three months -- sent me the CD of their November premiere of Mikronomicon. And when I opened the mailing bag, was less than happy to see that the USPS had managed to smash the case and CD inside it. Thankfully, when I asked for another, it got here right away (yesterday), and -- dudes and dudettes, you can see the score with the black link above and hear the three movements with the yellow links. As you may hear, the piano on which Geoff played could accurately be called "kindling". Nonetheless, it's pretty good for an underrehearsed first performance. And Beff got here Friday morning, since the Vermont concert was cancelled. So we got to the Cast Iron Kitchen sufficiently late that we didn't get a booth, and we paid the last one-fifth of our winter's heating oil and scheduled regular furnace maintenance (currently the system overfills with water such that the pipes knock loudly when the heat comes on -- I hate it when that happens), and we took a nice walk. And yesterday I graded eight of the variations assignments that were handed in for Theory 2. So there. More to come. Meanwhile, I'd heard nothing from Eastman about this thing I've been contracted to do in mid-April, so I was psychologically making that time free -- since Phillis Levin Songs is on in New York the following Monday -- but no, just in the nick of time, I got contacted yesterday about it, and ... woo hoo, April is the cruellest month! Kuhl. I will be driving there after class on the day before, thus getting there in the dark. I also realized, quite belatedly, that the big big big student composer concert coming up on May 8 is one I can't make. For you see, dear reader, the day before I will be driving to DC for "Current Conditions", and driving back on the day AFTER that concert will subsequently be done by me. Whoop tee doo, I always say, and that's French. So I'm making my apologies now. And at the 'Deis, Cheryl moved from mailbox central to Scott's old office -- as Scott and Ingrid moved to Bernstein-Marcus -- and an old, old photo of Yehudi and me, ca. 1998, was found stuck inside one of the drawers of her desk. It was awarded to me with a Post-It attached. See below, you lucky dogs. And, and -- well, four more weeks of teaching till the next vacation, and then they'll be sorry. That's French. No trips in March, but lots of Geoffy around to kick. And if the date of this year's first crocuses is matched by last year's, they'll be out in a mere week. I haven't seen any crocus petals pushing forth yet, but you know. Perhaps on the next update there will be crocus pictures eerily similar to the ones seen in previous years in this space. And the scheduled date of the next update is the day we switch to Daylight Savings Time. Today's pictures start with Sunny nuzzling the catnip patch, followed by an early morning shot of Cammy in which his eyes glow from the camera's flash. Next, the Ben Smith dam while the Assabet is in flood stage, Sunny watching Cammy nuzzle catnip, the bareness of the back yard, The Pickle Guys storefront, some drop pictures, and said Yehudi and me picture. Bye. MARCH 13 Breakfast was Shaws lite rice link sausages, orange juice, and coffee. Dinner last night was a grilled chicken salad with avocado, etc., at a Mexican restaurant in Tivoli, New York. Lunch was half a chicken panino and half a scallop cake at the Cast Iron Kitchen yesterday. TEMPERATURE EXTREMES SINCE LAST UPDATE 22.6 and 57.6. MUSIC GOING THROUGH MY HEAD AS I TYPE THIS "Get Away", Earth, Wind, and Fire. LARGE EXPENSES SINCE LAST UPDATE plumber $734, flat screen TV $426 inc. tax., yardwork stuff at hardware stores $142. COMPANIES THAT HAVE NOT COVERED THEMSELVES IN GLORY Dunn Oil, for telling us there was a defective "heating coil" in the hot water heater (no such luck), and that the hot water heater may have to be replaced. COMPANIES THAT HAVE COVERED THEMSELVES IN GLORY Bard College Conservatory, for spawning an enthusiastic (and really loud) audience for mod music; and Best Buy, for prompt assistance with TV purchase without a hard sell for a more expensive one. PET PEEVE people whose response to music is couched entirely in political terms. POINTLESS NOSTALGIC REMINISCENCE: One of the more exhilarating musical experiences of this millennium may have been on the day of readings of final projects for the undergrad composition course I taught at Harvard in 2001. Elliott Gyger had done a great job in his small sessions getting the projects rolling, and a quartet had been hired for a three-hour reading session. It turned out that at the reading all six pieces needed to be conducted, and we hadn't secured one. So I stepped in, rehearsed and conducted all three, and excuse me for breaking my arm while back-patting, I totally ruled. It was pretty exhilarating, and the recordings came out well. Especially since the players were all really good. And so given the opportunity to do such a thing again, fill in the blank. NUMBER OF HAIRCUTS I GOT LAST WEEK: 0. CUTE CAT THINGS TO REPORT: an occasional silent meow from Cammy, Sunny obsessed with the far-back neighbor's stored canoe and the dirt around it, both cats frolicking in the old catnip patch in back. UPDATED ON THIS SITE THIS WEEK: This page, Performances. THIS WEEK'S MADE-UP WORD: criescensce, the art of being dead while seeming to be alive. RECOMMENDATION AND PROFESSIONAL LETTERS WRITTEN THIS LAST TWO WEEKS: 9. FUN DAVY FACT YOU WON'T READ ANYWHERE ELSE One of the fonts of me and Klaus is apparently hardwired into some HP printers (I just found that out). WHAT THE NEXT BIG TREND WOULD BE IF I WERE IN CHARGE: The truth actually sets you free. PHOTOS IN MY IPHOTO LIBRARY: 14,539. WHAT I PAID FOR GASOLINE RECENTLY $2.56 in Maynard (Shaws $.10 discount), $2.57 in Maynard (Shaws $.10 discount), $2.97 in Red Hook, New York. THAT WHICH WAS NOT SPEWED sticky gold stars, the corner of the bedroom, some wainscotting I forgot about, a head of steam. Download 2.79 Mb. Share with your friends:
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