The San Francisco Symphony has released their penultimate recording in MTT's Mahler cycle, which is so far the finest cycle I know - albeit expensive.

For this recording of Das Lied, MTT uses two male singers, Stuart Skelton and Thomas Hampson. Skelton is superb, as good as I've heard in this piece, which is extraordinarily difficult for the tenor. He projects heroically and still imparts true and great characterization and meaning to the text - his bitter vehemence in "Das Trinklied vom Jammer der Erde" is the first of its kind I've heard, and now seems the only appropriate way to perform this music. Hampson is the only problematic feature of the recording. He is a great singer and artist, but can be mannered at times, and does fall into this trap at times. There is a big difference between a woman singing the low part, in which the expression is about a man, and a man singing it, when the expression becomes about himself. This is true to the conception of Mahler as an opera composer who only wrote symphonies, but Hampson does emote to the extreme in his entrance to "Der Einsame im Herbst" - nothing like Janet Baker imperceptibly appearing out of the music itself. Still, he does find greater focus as the performance goes along, and sings beautifully throughout.

As with all the other entries in this cycle, the quality of sound is incredible - in SACD format you are RIGHT THERE! And the playing is as technically assured and musically expressive as one will hear. MTT's conception has consistently been thought-through, with an attention to phrasing and counterpoint that is wonderful. No Mahler cycle can be both definitive and perfectly done, but this is excitingly, heroically close to that ideal.

LE PIXI : 82 av. de la République, BAGNOLET. M° Gallieni ou M° Robespierre.

Entrée 5 euro, concert à 20h et quelques…

Quinte & Sens c'est :
Olivier Py : saxophones
Xavier Bornens : trompette
Claude Whipple : guitare
François Fuchs : contrebasse
Aidje Tafial : batterie

www.quintetsens.net
www.myspace.com/quintetsens

. . . it's time to break out the Scotch bottle, and not just because the air is soft and the morning and evenings are cool. It's because it made it easier to lie on the couch and leaf through my new issue of New York magazine.

So, as we all prepare for the biggest class-warfare ass-raping of the American public yet devised, you may be wondering, "hey, composer, what do you think I should listen to that will, you know, get me in the mood?" Well, my friends, as we face these anxious times, likely again to be betrayed by both our supposed representatives and our fellow 'citizens,' it's time to prepare mind and soul with generous doses of Art Pepper and Gustav Mahler.

Why these two? Mahler I've written about before, and inevitably will again; in this context his music is the foremost expression of whipsawing turmoil, anxiety, hope and despair. As much as I know this is historically untrue, today I like to think that Romantic times such as ours - times when the best lack all conviction, and the worst are full of passionate intensity - were not possible before the early 19th century but that, once Romanticism was invented, we since have been cursed to suffer the derangement of it all. Perhaps some new way to think and be will come around. Chissa?

By now you're probably wanting to ask, "composer, when I'm feeling so anxious, why would I want to listen to music that itself is an expression of that anxiety? Why wouldn't I rather turn to something that will allow me to escape from such feeling?" That's a very good question. My answer is that, personally, hearing music that takes anxiety and turns it into something expressive, moving, even glorious or spectacular, is more satisfying. Mahler certainly does this, it is one of the things that makes him "Mahlerian." This is especially true of his symphonies from No. 5 on. At that point in his career, Mahler began to compose directly onto orchestral score layouts, rather than composing for the keyboard first and then orchestrating the short score. To my ears, this gives his music a new sense of freedom in both the large-scale sweep of the music to the smallest expressive detail, and of course he was a master of each. I frequently imagine his arm moving across the table and paper in large gestures as he has to extend his reach across such large canvass, and that physicality in the process of composition is apparent in the sound of the music. Certainly the great anxiety-riven symphonies 5 through 7 demonstrate this. Along with Gergiev's recording of the 6th that I previously reviewed, I have a new (to me) recording from Günther Herbig leading the Saarbrucken Radio Symphony Orchestra in a single performance, live recording. This is spectacularly good - a superior musician leading a superior orchestra. They command every detail of the music and play with impressive, confident expression. Herbig takes fast tempos throughout, especially so for the opening movement and the Scherzo, which he places second in order in the traditional manner. He also shows some of the most well-defined, managed and thought-through metrical modulation I've heard in a Mahler performance - the aggressive relentlessness of the first movement is beautifully balanced by exact shifts to slow and quiet music in the moments of repose. The entire performance flows but never feels rushed, Herbig indicates mood without underlining it, allowing the listener to find their own expression in the music, and the recording has superior sound. This is one I'll be turning to often.

Gergiev himself has two more recording out in his Mahler cycle, symphonies 1 and 7. This is rapidly turning out to be an exciting cycle. His interpretation of the first is both direct and sparkling. It may be early in the game, but his general approach seems to be a focus on a particular idea and style, and to convey that throughout the work. There are many ways to get at Mahler, and this is absolutely valid and produces just as good a level of music making as Bernstein's all encompassing, neurotically charged approach - Mahler is that vast of a subject that there is always a "new" way to present him. This 1st stands out in both the grace and wit of the early movements and the astonishing violence of the finale.

The 7th is the mystery work, fascinating musically, intensely beguiling to the ear and, unlike the rest of the composer's work, completely elusive, both narratively and emotionally. It is nachtmusik, colorful and evocative and defying meaning. More than the other works, this is the test of a conductor's understanding of Mahler, the challenge is to present a coherent idea and make it sound like Mahler's. Gergiev does this in spades, he takes a dramatic, almost episodic approach, breaking down the movements internally into segments that he presents as fragments of a larger structure, and lets us piece together what it means for ourselves. This sets him apart in concept from the other great recordings of this work, MTT, Bernstein, Rattle, and also puts him on equal footing. It's superb, exciting. All these recordings are live, played extremely well, in SACD format, hindered only by the dry, shallow acoustic of the Barbican.

And there's even more! This has been a pretty pregnant year for Mahler recording, and I've myself only added a partial number from the total releases. There's a wild, emotionally raw performance of the 9th symphony out of the BBC archives, a beautiful, refined concert of Mahler songs with exquisite singing from Thomas Quasthoff, a recording that is an unofficial conclusion to conductor Gary Bertini's superior cycle, and a fine, straight-forward performance of the massive 3rd symphony from the typical excellent regional German orchestra. On it's way, the MTT recording of Das Lied von der Erde, and Gergiev's own 3rd. Who has the time?!

As I've implied, there's more than one way to tackle anxiety in music, and beyond Mahler. Anxiety is the key feature of Art Pepper's musicianship. He's actually one of the more astonishing figures in the history of jazz, for both musical and non-musical reasons. Musically, at his best he produced an incredible, fecund flow of ideas, probing with some sense of desperation at the limits of what he could think, feel and express. Pepper's playing is not "edgy," it is nothing but edges, abrading and excoriating both, most frequently to himself. If you hit the link above and heard his take on "Here's That Rainy Day," you'll know exactly what I mean. No one has ever made ballad playing such a harrowing experience as Pepper. And why shouldn't he? After long-term heroin addiction and four stints in prison, the last two in San Quentin, and then time spent with the bizarre cult Synanon, he had a lot of questions and doubt about life, and himself. Especially himself. Pepper is unarguably one of the great post-Parker alto players, yet he lived his entire life plagued with doubts about his abilities as a musician. He especially felt intimidated as a white musician working in a primarily black art form, wondering if he could measure up. Astonishingly, he played New York City exactly once, and engagement documented in the "Complete Live at the Village Vanguard" set. It's fantastic music, and fascinating to hear his neurotic patter with the audience. We seem to be witnessing him convincing himself that he belongs in New York, on stage with his compatriots. And then when he puts the horn to his lips, he proves it beyond a reasonable doubt.

For the non-musical reasons, consider after having heard him play that he didn't consider himself a musician. He considered himself primarily a a junkie and a convict. For these stories, look no further than his incredible autobiography, "Straight Life". This is a must-read for anyone interested in jazz, biography and/or especially noir of any kind - Pepper's story is beyond noir, beyond any conglomeration of Burroughs, Buckowski, Celine, Crumley, et. al. It is an important book about an artist, about the disconnect between personal story and qualities and the art a person creates. Because Pepper is not shy about telling you, bluntly, that he far from being even an acceptable member of society. But he was eventually able to almost fit in, to love and be loved. And of course, to play and make incredible music before he killed himself with cocaine.

This is no exaggeration, Pepper made incredible music. The edge the he produced pushed sharply at the edge of coherent thought and articulation. There is a quality often heard in avant-garde jazz where a player rapidly blurs notes together, often overblown, produce an almost incoherent sound. This is frequently done for effect and just as frequently has no actual meaning. Pepper can produce the same sound, but he gets there by trying to express something at the very limit of his artistic ability, and breaks down in the attempt. It is complex and thrilling, and is as laudable as the creation of art gets. You can hear it in his huge body of recorded work and archives. Especially fine are his 2nd and 3rd volumes of recording for the Aladdin lable, available on Blue Note, and his long run on the Fantasy label, particularly "Meets the Rhythm Section," "Smack Up," "Intensity" and a personal favorite, "Living Legend," with the blunt, telling photograph on the cover.

I also love the set of live recordings put out recently by his widow, Laurie. The playing is just wonderful; intense, involving, funky, beautiful. At this stage of his career, every note was an attempt to prove his own self-worth as a musician. What could possibly be more fraught with anxiety for an artist? And what better way to transform that anxiety into art? As we are slowly dragged into a wreck, helpless before decisions made by people who don't think we matter, we must find away to triumph in some small ways, to produce something beneficial for the society around us. What better example, both artistic and moral, than these two great geniuses?

Mina kusiners mamma "tant K" och morbror S. hade nyss skilt sig och tant K. specialiserade sig nu på att besöka vår familj med en flaska vin, Mahlerskivor, två ton cigaretter och senaste nytt om albatrosser. Jag och min bror stod parad med varsin liten levande mus bakom ryggen när hon ringde på så att vi kunde skrämma vettet ur henne, och säga Välkommen - för det var hon alltid. Förutom att tant K. kom att bli som en extra familjemedlem, så blev jag fullständigt bergtagen av just Gustav Mahler. För att undvika all rök satt jag i vardagsrummet och tjuvlyssnade på Mahlers femma under sir Barbirolli, tyvärr sönderpratad av pappa, mamma och K.

Veckan efter när jag fått mina månadspengar gick jag och köpte upp dem totalt med denna astronomiskt dyra skiva om 135:-, men vad jag njöt vid min lilla oranga bärbara mono grammofon av den maffiga inledningen, och allt vad jag senare skulle lära mig kallas för kromatik, sänkta femmor, förhållningar och modulationer bland stråkarna: Jag hade aldrig hört något så vackert i hela mitt liv.

Veckan efter när jag berättade om min nya kärlek för folk i min klass skrattade de bara - och blev ärligt oroade: Vad skulle det bli av den där Larvad? Sagt och gjort. P.B, en av de tuffa tjejerna i min klass (som aldrig helt lyckades dölja sina varma sidor) var rättfram och initiativrik nog att samla ihop några skivor jag under en vecka borde lyssna på och lära. Deras uppsåt lyckades över förväntan. Jag lånade lydde, lyssnade, och lärde mig snabbt uppskatta deras skivor med gungande rock och plötsligt gillade jag ärligt Status Quo........och Mahler...

Senare breddades min smak....när jag hittade alla pappas och mammas hela Mahleriana i skivsamlingen, och den botaniska trädgård av såväl lugna, sorgsna som dramatiskadramatiska toner och känslor som där fanns att skörda. Om de tidigare söndagsgenierna varit gränsfall som genier, så gäller det i all falla knappast Mahler - Tvättäkta geni. Här i sista satsen av nian.

med fortsättning och slut

da qui

I callously shunned the arena and its occupants last night in favour of a hard to resist invitation to join a friend in the stalls. Quite apart from the obvious advantage of being able to sit down and thus save my back from the inevitable agony resulting from listening to 85 minutes of Mahler's 6th symphony, I hadn't seen my friend for a long time. It was a nice way to catch up.

Quite unexpectedly, the evening also provided me with an opportunity to hang around backstage at the Royal Albert Hall. The last time I'd done that was during the shoot for the first video. It was weird descending the steps to the basement and seeing the surroundings again after a couple of months. Just as I'd thought, the corridors were teeming with musicians. There was a buzz about the place. It was one very special moment.

I explained to my friend what an odd effect coming to the Royal Albert Hall for repeat visits over a short amount of time had. There comes a point when the grandeur of the place doesn't so much become less, more that everywhere up there feels like's home. It's like the feeling you get when you've worked in the same office for a significant amount of time. Without even realising it, those repeat visits make the place you're visiting nothing more than an extension of your bedroom or kitchen or front room.

It's a lovely feeling. I feel part of the Royal Albert Hall and the Royal Albert Hall feels a part of me. Weird, given that I'm just a member of the audience who, from time to time, gets the chance to swan around in places in and around the hall at times when most wouldn't.

To sum up Mahler's sixth symphony in a blog posting is, frankly, impossible. His orchestrations would make for an entire blog given that the Chicago Symphony Orchestra occupied most of the stage itself.

It's a massive work and one which, if I was completely honest, I wished I'd known thoroughly before I set foot in the hall. That said, there was one moment in the closing bars of the final movement which took me completely by surprise. Not the seemingly loud thwack from the band in itself, more the distance the people in the row in front of me jumped when they heard it.

I didn't, of course. I'm far too cool for that, even if I didn't know the work that well.

Enregistré en 2008, présent sur l’album éponyme de JOURNAL INTIME (bon de commande ici)

Enregistré en 2008, présent sur l’album éponyme de JOURNAL INTIME (bon de commande ici)

Enregistré en 2008, présent sur l'album éponyme de JOURNAL INTIME (bon de commande ici)

Es gibt wieder ein neues Set Fotos von Gaga Nielsen. Die Aufnahme hier finde ich witzig. Jan Sobottka und Gaga Nielsen laufen ja schon seit geraumer Zeit auf den Vernissagen der Berliner Galerien herum und fotografieren. Man kennt die beiden. Jetzt kommt offensichtlich noch einer mit Kamera dazu, wie das Foto beweist. Ein gegenseitiges beobachten, umkreisen und abschiessen.

Ich habe vor mehr zu filmen als zu fotografieren. Das erste cosmic Video ist in Arbeit und kommt zum Relaunch der neuen poetryclub Website heraus. Das wird noch im September sein. Klar das die cosmic Videos Musikvideos sein werden.

Ich war weg von dieser Welt, abhanden gekommen, garnicht mehr da, aber ich komme, immer mehr zurück...

Hier schonmal das passende Gedicht, bzw. der Song zum demnächst erscheinenden Video:

Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen,
Mit der ich sonst viele Zeit verdorben.
Sie hat so lange von mir nichts vernommen,
Sie mag wohl glauben, ich sei gestorben.

Es ist mir auch gar nichts daran gelegen,
Ob sie mich für gestorben hält;
Ich kann auch gar nichts sagen dagegen,
Denn wirklich bin ich gestorben der Welt.

Ich bin gestorben dem Weltgewimmel
Und ruh' in einem stillen Gebiet.
Ich leb' in mir und meinem Himmel,
In meinem Lieben, in meinem Lied.

Friedrich Rückert

Foto von G. Nielsen:

Berlin, 5. September 2009 Galerieeröffnung Wagner + Partner mit der Ausstellung
I JUST WANTED YOU TO LOVE ME

I was always the creative kid who was a nerd. I listened to Vivaldi, wrote poetry and actually did my homework.
(Laura Dern, Rolling Stone, February 1986)

All I can say is thank heavens for elitist things. The BBC Proms was and should always be elitist. The World Cup is elitist. Train spotting is too I’m told. If the BBC wants world music and jazz, put them on for the elitist world music and jazz fans. But please, please, keep the Proms classical. BBC don’t kill the goose that lays the golden eggs.

I love the new music in the Proms. I am talking about the new music that will be called “classical” in time. I hate the term “classical music” though. It should be called serious art music I think. It’s a bit like fast food and slow food.

This is what happens when well-meaning do-gooders promote “accessibility”. You get the hoi pollio turning up at events like the Proms and texting and eating crisps and slurping bottled water and clapping between movements. Ignorant peasants!

If I had my way we’d make everyone in the country a member of the elite – that’d teach the bastards!

But seriously, a concert series such as the BBC Proms must be protected from the “intellectual high ground” wankers, such as preside over the Turner Prize, for whom a dung sculpture cunningly fashioned into the form of a dunghill is a matter for praise and celebration, and the Classic FM brigade, who believe that listening should be made easy by only serving the “fillet steak” of music and discarding everything else lest their darling listeners become discouraged. Over many years, an acceptable balance has, in the main, been achieved by those responsible for the Proms; the BBC cannot and must not disregard its duty do give airtime to new works, whilst recognising that lighter and more readily approachable music has its virtues too.

The choices are not quite so simple as those concerning the World Cup, or, for that matter, train spotting.

I watched the Berliner Philharmoniker’s Prom on BBC 4 last night.

That was up there with the best performances of Shostakovich’s Symphony No. 10 that I have ever heard. I genuinely have nothing bad to say about that performance. One minor problem: the snare drum could have been a bit louder (or the microphones could have picked it up more; I wonder how it sounded in the hall?). Apart from that, one of the best performances of the season. I thought the first two movements the highlights – perhaps they just contain the most engaging music for me. I know a lot of people dislike Rattle’s facial antics (or should that just be tics) but to me it is just a demonstration of how immersed he is in the music.

Brahms’ Symphony No. 3 was pleasant enough but, as I have said elsewhere, I still don’t see the point of Brahms.

Now to look forward to Mahler 6 tonight. Turnage will be interesting too – I usually find him too tough but my tastes are gradually broadening and I can listen to work now that I would have turned off a few years ago.

Of course, at breakfast, I saw alone, since it is Thursday, and most people do not have class until far later into the day. However, the same guy who seems somewhat geeky, maybe a more geeky Ryan L. from Wilson, was of course there as he always is early in the morning, and I pondered the days plan of attack. I also drank coffee, as one of my new morning, afternoon, and dinner pratices, hoping that I will reach my caffeine threshold and finally be affected by it so I become less tired on certain days. The problems given out in Chem recitation were particularly noob, and I finished them in ten minutes, and was allowed to leave 50 minutes early. Of course I had nothing to do at 8:00 in the morning, in between recitation and Astronomy lab, so I browsed the tubed Internet for a half an hour, and made my way down to the Observatory, where I learned the history of the brightness of stars. Somewhat interested, I was happy to finally do the lab in the Astronomy lab on the second floor. When we got there, we found that Erickkson had to talk for about an another half an hour about how to do a lab that took, well, hakf an hour to do. This of course made the lab go fast, as one knew exactly what to do, unless one is an idiot. Using star plates, we measured the relative sizes of each star that was assigned to be measured, and correlated the size with apparent brightness, using standards set forth by nearby stars. It was somewhat fun, but also very interesting. I mean, on the star plate, something that was exposed for a length of time on a given set of sky for about 10 minutes, I don't think Erickkson knew, there were stars that showed about as big as a penny, and therefore were far more brighter, and also stars less than half the size of the head of a pin. It was just amazing to see how many stars one can actually see if you have the right equipment. I finished with the last third of peop[le doing the lab, becuase I somewhat messed up my graph, and decided to do it over again. It didn't matter, and I still got out of there around an hour before it is suppose to end.

During the 200 minute break between Astro and Chem lab, I researched some, and ate lunch. In lunch, there was a seat open at the table Amanda and Kelly were sitting at, so I sat there and was immediately inundated with remarks about whether or not Amanda "had been mean to me, " when in fact she had not, and I do not think she can be mean. Honestly, I do not know what either of those girls think about me, although Amanda is nice, and Kelly is abstract, to a degree. She does not seem to actually look at you when she talks, except ephemerally, and instead looks down or across. I do not know why, but whatever. Lunch ended on a good note, I would say.

Chem lab is pretty cool, because Mahler is fucken awesome. He comes into lab with tight ashell T-shirts, and Levi jeans that really show off his ass, and that are ripped, and tight. He is right on. He is also my advisor, and is probably the only person in the Faculty who does. Lab consisted of finding the Volume of a solid through mensuration and submersion in water. It was easy, but I have yet to do my calculations yet. We also had to find the density of an unknown liquid, mine smelled like nail polish remover. After this, I went back to the room, and researched some more, read a few pages of Dawkins and went to supper. The only people I noticed in Dinner to sit next to were Chris and Amanda. We talked about horror movies and Johnny Depp. I was the only person to say anything bad about him, and I also talked about my dismay towards everyone, who all seemed very afraid of mainstream "horror" movies. I thought "Bitches" in my head. Left there, went to room, fell asleep, woke up to phone ringing, and talked to some losers from the Lehigh Valley, namely family, about College, and how my brother's Chem class is farther than my College Chem class. I hung up and came to the Library to study, which I have not done yet.

Concert à 18h30, entrée libre et gratuite.

Os explico a qué viene este post. Como sabéis, en verano todos aprovechamos para hacer las cosas para las que no hemos tenido tiempo el resto del año. Leemos, viajamos, o simplemente paseamos por nuestra ciudad y tomamos una cervecita en una terraza.

Son muchas las actividades que se pueden hacer, y muchas las ideas para el tiempo libre, pero yo voy a proponer una que en particular a mí me fascina. A lo mejor soy reiterativo y un poco pesado, porque en el post anterior ya hablé de esto, pero bueno, perdonadme, que merece la pena.

Yo, en verano, aprovecho para escuchar las músicas que he ido acumulando durante todo el año. El verano pasado hice una inmersión en Stravinsky, quedando por completo fascinado (desde entonces soy un devoto admirador de su obra). Hace dos veranos le tocó el turno a Bruckner, y tres años atrás recuerdo que pasé horas y horas escuchando Khachaturiam. Éste verano, como habréis podido observar en el anterior post, le toca el turno a Mahler. Hasta ahora sólo conocía su quinta sinfonía, una maravilla, sin duda. También había escuchado varias veces un cuarteto con piano, y algunos de sus lieder, en especial "ich bin der welt abhanden gekommen", de los Ruckertlieder. Llevo dos meses escuchando todas sus sinfonías, y he llegado a una conclusión. El final de la sinfonía octava es uno de los momentos más impresionantes de toda mi pequeña experiencia musical. En ocasiones se abusa de la palabra alucinante, y a mi no me gusta emplearla excepto que su uso esté totalmente justificado. Y éste lo está. Os dejo esta perla, el final de la octava sinfonía de Mahler, dirigida por Simon Rattle. Disfrutad de la potencia de sonido de esta obra, y luego me decís si se os han puesto los pelos como escarpias y la carne de gallina.

En la música, el uso del silencio es esencial, pues un descanso en una sucesión de sonidos es agradable, y un momento de silencio tras un acorde de tensión es increible. Como primer ejemplo del uso del silencio, pondré a mi muy admirado Beethoven. En su novena sinfonía, en la mundialmente conocida parte coral del último movimiento, la sucesión de melodías, y el camino que sigue el maravilloso poema de Schiller, nos lleva a un momento culminante: se trata de un acorde monumental, en que la orquesta y el coro, al unísono, gritan la palabra "Gott" (Dios). Es un inconmensurable acorde tenso, en el que los pelos de los oyentes se ponen como escarpias, y la piel se vuelve de gallina, mientras los escalofríos recorren de arriba a abajo todo nuestro cuerpo. Pero no es ese acorde lo que produce la increible sensación de poder que trasmite Beethoven. Ese acorde no sería nada si al momento se produjera una resolución del mismo, una relajación tras la tensión. Beethoven, como gran maestro no solo de la música, sino de los entresijos del espíritu humano, supo que lo que más podía mellar en los corazones de los hombres era el silencio. Ese monumental silencio después del monumental acorde hace que la tensión resuene en nuestras cabezas.

Pero el silencio en la música no debe estar exigido por la partitura exclusívamente. Los que vamos con asiduidad a conciertos, observamos una práctica muy poco respetuosa con la música. Cuando el último acorde de una obra aún resuena en los auditorios, sin que su vibración se haya apagado, sin que haya hecho aparición el silencio que hace que siga sonando en nuestra cabeza, un clamor lleno de aplausos, vítores y "bravos" llena la sala sin dejar disfrutar al público del proceso mediante el cual el sonido se apaga.

Yo lamento profundamente esa actitud, pues en muchas ocasiones he querido disfrutar de la grandiosidad del acorde final, o de la sutileza de las últimas notas en un final suave. Me gustaría poner como ejemplo de buena práctica del público esta grabación del final de la tercera sinfonía de Mahler, dirigida por el maestro Abbado. El público espera paciente a que el direcor baje sus manos por completo, mientras disfruta del majestuoso acorde difuminándose en la sala. Tomemos ejemplo.

Una amiga alemana, pianista, me dijo una vez que le encantaba como denominabamos en español a esos pequeños periodos en los que el sonido no existe. En alemán los llaman "pausas", nosotros "silencio".

Rencontre 2

Après le grand succès obtenu avec la première rencontre, nous continuons de plus belle avec cette deuxième rencontre qui, quelle surprise, laisse à peine entrevoir le penchant naturel de Thomas pour les cuivres (et le mien pour la musique de Stravinsky!). Sans mentionner notre penchant pour le chant choral bien sûr, qui est dignement représenté cette semaine par la très belle pièce Litanies à la vierge noire de Poulenc.

Voici donc la liste complète des pièces jouées aujourd'hui:

1. 5^e symphonie, 1^er mouv. (Gustav Mahler 1860-1911) -Thomas
2. Litanies à la vierge noire (Francis Poulenc 1899-1963) - Louis
3. Gesang Der Geister Uber Den Wassern (Franz Schubert 1797-1828) - Thomas
4. Concerto in E flat major "Dumbarton Oaks"(Igor Stravinsky 1882-1971) - Louis
5. On the Sunny Side of the Road (Duke Ellington 1899-1974) - Louis
6. Jam with Sam  (Duke Ellington 1899-1974) - Louis

Comme vous pouvez le constater j'ai tenté d'introduire un peu de jazz vers la fin de la rencontre, dans l'optique de progressivement amener Thomas à mieux apprécier ce genre musical que j'adore. Ce fut malheureusement sans succès: mon collègue est bien trop attaché à ses symphonies! Moi qui m'imaginais l'amadouer avec ces deux pièces de Duke Ellington...c'est un trompettiste quand même ce Thomas! Un peu de solidarité que diable!

More recently, RCS Plus has expanded the festival to include more intimate concerts in the hall across campus, off-campus concerts, and a movie + recital series. I sang at the final At The Movies recital last Wednesday, where I was reminded what a wonderful experience it can be to view a movie with a crowd.

It is encouraging to see the improvements SMCM is making to its campus. In recent years, it seems one part of campus is inevitably under construction. But the annoyance and ugliness has paid off. The campus has more than a few brand-new buildings and new signs, which may not seem important, but they are what I first notice whenever I visit. The campus center is truly a central place on campus, the fitness center has an olympic-sized swimming pool and rock climbing wall among other amenities, there are new suites to house the expanding student body, most of whom live on campus, a new boathouse, and several new classroom buildings. Sadly, the music program seems to be at the bottom of the funding list. The new gym is the only on-campus venue that can accommodate concerts that include the full choir and orchestra. The acoustics are OK, but it lacks the proper ambiance. A new project will move the RCS near the music building, where an outdoor arena will be created with a terraced seating area filling what is now occupied by a rather hideous mound. It is a campus I would be happy to inhabit, though I harbor some nostalgia for the way things used to be which is only natural, I think.

The soloists for Gustav Mahler's Das Lied von der Erde (Song of the Earth) were mezzo-soprano Olivia Vote, and tenor Jason Collins, both of whom did a fine job. I have known Olivia since she was in high school, and it has been wonderful to watch her career over the past few years. She was a New England regional finalist of the Metropolitan Opera National Council Auditions this year. Having just finished a degree at Yale Opera, she covered "Nicklausse" at Opera Theatre of Saint Louis earlier this summer and will begin studies at the prestigious Academy of Vocal Arts in the fall. It was satisfying to hear her large voice sing such a meaty work, and by the last movement I had goosebumps. She was self-effacing afterwards, thanked me for coming, and sighed that she has "messed up." A bona fide child of St. Mary's, she was barefoot as soon as she left the stage. I have never been a Mahler fan, but I may have to reconsider that position.

Mr. Collins was equally as humble when I met him at the reception. He attempted to make friends with Kipling, which won him immediate brownie points in my book. We traded rescue dog stories, and then it was time to take pity on Kipling (who had spent the evening alternately cowering under my lawn chair and attempting to eat our picnic dinner), and head home.

Die Haftstrafe war zunächst auf 6 Monate festgesetzt, wurde dann aber in einem Berufungsverfahren durch die Oberstaatsanwältin auf 9 Monate erhöht. Während des Verfahrens sagte eben diese Staatsanwältin (Cäcilia Cramer-Krahforst), dass es ihr einen gewissen "Respekt abnötige", dass Mahler für seine Überzeugungen ins Gefängnis geht. Schwerer Fehler!!!!1!! Denn wegen dieser Äußerung verlor die Frau ihren Posten als Leiterin der Abteilung zur Verfolgung politisch motivierter Straftaten bei der Anklagebehörde Cottbus.

Die Frau, die dafür gesorgt hat, dass Mahler länger in den Knast kommt.. Mal ganz ehrlich wie beschränkt sind wir denn in Deutschland? Man kann die Frau nun wirklich nicht in den Verdacht stellen mit rechtsextremem Gedankengut zu sympathisieren. Im Gegenteil - für seine Überzeugungen einzustehen und auch in den Knast zu gehen ist richtig und wichtig für eine Demokratie - mehr hat sie wohl auch nicht gesagt.

Ich hab darüber schonmal geschrieben - Ich finde mit solchen Aktionen hilft man den Glatzen eher ihr Aussenseiterimage aufrecht zu erhalten. Wunderbar :(

So, we went to my brother's SYMS concert (he made the Johnson concert and jazz band. I'm so proud... *sniff*). They played Mazama, Clouds that Sail in Heaven, and A Galop to end all Galops. They were all great, especially for musicians that young. I'd have to say that like Mazama the most, the percussionists really pulled it together on that one, as it required everyone to play a single staccato note at the same time, but no one was late or early! It surprised me! I was like "sweet!" Oh yeah, there was also a tornado warning, which required everyone to go into the cellar. My dad, brother, and I just stayed above ground and watched the lightning. :-)

Other Stuff ~ Unattended, my origami shelf has kind of died, it's now populated with car keys, hearing aid batteries, science museum passes, and nail clippers. So I've started and Origami Stairwell, where I'm hanging origami around our stairs. I'll upload a photo when I don't feel lazy.

I'm struggling with the Marathon problem that I have to do for my AP Chemistry summer work. I think I set up the equation properly but I'm still getting a g/mol ratio below one, which obviously isn't right...

This summer I've been listening to way more music than I usually do. Here's the list of what I listen to, and when I listen to it:

Classical (if I feel "clear")

• Bruckner
• Mahler
• Vivaldi

Brass Band (if I feel tuba-ish)

• Grimethope
• Empire Brass
• Innovata
• Canadian Brass
• Black Dyke
• Youngblood

Low Brass Solos (if I feel very tuba-ish)

• Roger Bobo
• Patrick Sheridan
• Arnold Jacobs
• Roland Fröscher
• Harvey Philips
• Gene Pokorny
• Øystein Baadsvik

Rock

• Dream Theater (if I feel anything)
• Trans-Siberian Orchestra (if christmas is coming)
• Pink Floyd (if I feel mellow)
• Metallica (if I feel rebellious)

Techno

• Infected Mushroom (if I feel philosophical)
• 8-Bit People (if I feel nostalgic)
• Weeble's Stuff (if I feel crazy)
• OC Remix (if I feel nostalgic)

Navaras/Nauras is a Sanskrit word that, when broken down, refers to the nine ("nava") emotional states ("rasa") that are exhibited during music, drama, and the visual arts, the experience of which bring about a state of transcendental bliss.

The nine different states are as follows:

• Love - Sringaram
• Comic - Hasyam
• Pathetic - Karunam
• Furious - Raudram
• Heroic - Viram
• Terrible - Bayanakam
• Odious - Bibhatsam
• Surprise - Adbutam
• Tranquility - Shantam

Enregistré en 2008, présent sur l’album éponyme de JOURNAL INTIME (bon de commande ici)