College Graduations and Niagara Falls

So much has happened all in the last week! This blog has briefly left the world of comics and collages and has apparently taken a turn to the photoblog. Well, comics shall return soon. I just have to think of something funny to draw in the midst of looking for a job after the summer. Perhaps a funny coming about the irony of hoping your big employment break will come through at Borders Bookstore when you've just earned a Master's Degree. Hilarity!My sister graduated from college. I'm so proud of her. I graduated from second college. I'm proud of my big fat diploma which is more than twice as big as the last one. And the last one was all in Latin, so now that this one is in English I can read it all.
My dad and I went on a motorcycle ride on a beautiful day! This is over his shoulder.
My friends and I went to Niagara Falls Canada for the Memorial Day Weekend. Take that, American holidays. Well, Niagara Falls Canada is basically Canada Lite, so we weren't really escaping the United States. This waterfall behind me is Niagara Falls, and it is not a fake backdrop! But I do wish that our yellow ponchos were a little less bonnety and a little more keep-out-the-deluge-y.
We also fit into a pod at the Ferris Wheel, joined by Mark's friend Ted, who visited from Toronto.
Finally, I got back to Pittsburgh and the very next day I had a premier and a recording of a piece I wrote for bell choir! And here they all are in their Chancel Glory.
Phwew. I think the summer will be a bit less eventful than this, but I'm glad that all events went very smoothly, and not a single handbell was thrown at anyone.

Vacation Bliss

On mini vacation in Western NY. I'm waiting for friends to visit tomorrow night, whence we go to Niagara Falls! I'm excited for "Canada As Adults", because the last time I was there I was a teenager, which was fine, but now I have free will. Having a few days in the meantime to think all by me onesies is great. I'm thinking:
1. I love the quiet of the family's house! I can practice piano for an hour, watch tv, go for a walk, and then come back to the piano...and it's still as quiet as ever.
2. I'm reading a book of writings by the composer John Luther Adams (he works out of the wilderness of Alaska and sometimes writes hour-long works with strings and harps only on white keys; in other words I am completely in love with him) and I am transfixed by his every word. My, how I admire intelligent writing which is still personal and thoughtful. And he gets bonus points for talking about the aurora borealis.
3. Am I at a compositional bench marker? A mini crisis? Now that I'm done with my Master's program I still think my music could be so much better, so much more solid, and yet I don't quite know how to do that yet. I think I'm torn between attempting an ascetic/Arvo Part/"less is more"/spiritual side of me and the funky pop music/minimalism/jazz chord side of me, and perhaps I can find a way to make both sides happy in works to come? 4. I think I'm thinking too much. I should just listen to the stream. Gurgle!
5. This country livin' is a doozy on my digestive system.
6. But the ahi tuna at the fancy Arts & Crafts style restaurant was the most delicious graduation present ever.
7. My parents finally called the piano tuner and he came this morning, and now Wungsten will happen at A440. Delightful.
8. I'm practicing John Adams (the non-Alaskan one) 'China Gates'. I'm going to try to make it happen for real.
9. I've forgotten everything about science and social studies that I learned from 7th-12th grade, as proven by my well-taken notes I've saved. I thought I'd never heard of Mark's quiz-word "regolith", but BAM! There it was on my 8th grade science review sheet about the earth's crust. I am also now re-acquainted with the 5 nations of native Iroquois people, which acronym nicely to SCOOM.

Harp Recital

I played the harp on a three-harp piece at Duquesne University the other night... All but a few lucky parents were priviledged to see my first classical performance debut in Pittsburgh. 'Course, the harp is not my instrument, and I've only taken four lessons, and I was the only boy, towering over the other harptastic blond girls. And the piece was on the program between the principal harpist of the Pittsburgh Symphony and a five-year-old girl who was too short to even sit on the bench. We made a small impact, but it felt good to perform again! And then we got desserts.
Photo: Me playing the harp. Just kidding. Don't I wish. It's King David, circa 1600, on a triple-strung harp, wearing fantastic sandals. But both performances did include a little kid to hold up the music.

Palindromesemordnilap

There are some great palindromes out there. They read the same both forward and backwards. "A man a plan a canal Panama", "Madam I'm Adam", even "Yo Banana Boy!" Sally introduced me to "Sniffum' Muffins" yesterday...but perhaps my favorite palindrome is Avobilhucoiefokniserjaerhobnbohreajresinkofriocuchlibova!
Oh, it has to make sense? Right. Let's stick with Sniffum' muffins then.
(Thanks to Scott for hilarity.)

Fallingwater and Ohiopyle

This past weekend the gang and I went to see Fallingwater, Frank Lloyd Wright's 1930's masterpiece of a summer home for the Kaufmann family. Then we went down the road to Ohiopyle, PA for a fantastic lunch on the river, songs in the grass, and warm rays of sunshine! First, we sandwiched Fallingwater between our heads like a delicious architectural Oreo.

The building is amazing for its cantilevered 'horizahnal lahns' (horizontal lines, as our tour guide told us) but I think it's equally impressive for its snapshot into what was the ideal living conditions for the architecturally radical at the time- claustrophobic hallways lead out to sunlit rooms, which lead out to bright verandas that feel like they're floating on the water. Some of the things that were crazy for the 1930's now seem absurd, like the low ceilings, and mazelike houseplan, but I could see what Wright was envisioning, and with tens of millions of dollars over budget, presto! He got what he wanted. The rooms are quite tiny, but every small detail has been accounted for- even the electrical outlets submerged into the floors. I loved this lower level pool, which looked mysterious and magical. We sang Beatles songs in the grass and wished we were born in better days. As if the 1960's were better days, but we know better.
I stuck my feet in freezing springtime river and Matt got chilly vicariously. It was even a good hairday (or lack thereof) for both of us.
We all appeared in the obligatory self-photo, which for some reason I look like the only comfortable subject:
These pictures remind me of my excursions with another Fantastic 5, this time from TA 46 at Vassar. We took great trips to Dia:Beacon and Storm King Art Center on similarly sublime summery days. We all met up again in Washington DC recently for more fun and frolic! (Does anyone have photos they could send me of that weekend?) Perhaps good things come in fives.

Sometimes you have to make a choice.

Two homonyms diverged in a yellow wood...
and I took the road not shaken?

Kites

I miss flying kites! Every spring my family would go to my aunt's backyard, which was a big open field with lots of wind. Everyone's hair would end up looking really windblown-glamorous for the rest of the day. The winds usually died before the kites got into the air, of course. Or it would be too windy, and all our kites would be torn into pieces. I miss those days.

Lunchtime Chamber Music

I went to a lunchtime Chamber Music Concert today to hear a cool guitar and saxophone duet (called Driveline by David Kechley) and there were three other groups on the program as well, including an amazing flute and marimba duet. I was the only student in the audience. Actually, aside from the two coaches of the chamber groups, and the guy who helped set up chairs, I was the audience. I tried to clap extra loud.

Moby and a Bee

Iron and Wine Review

I just saw Iron and Wine in concert tonight! Iron and Wine being just one guy, Sam Beam. He is fabulously bearded, as seen on the right. But he is also pretty hipster, as shown by the audience demographic. This time he was joined by a full band- at one point there were ten musicians on stage! It was a good show, but I wasn't overwhelmed. It was certainly the quietest rock concert I'd ever seen (no complaints there). Here's my review, in bulletpoint pros and cons.
Cons:
1. These people seem talented. Why aren't they taking advantage of melodic solo opportunities rather than doing the jam-band thing? Feels like an updated Phish concert with better chord structures.
2. Why is the harmony singer/violinist frozen in place? Why is she not smiling?
3. There are two percussionists, and one has approximately 50 handheld percussion items. Why are you stealing the show?
4. Guitarist who's playing the xylophone never plays a single tremolo. I now know too much about music that I can't just enjoy it, I have to expect a tremolo. But come on, this is what the xylophone lives for.
5. I am so tired of people taking horribly blurry pictures on their cameras and phones. Serious, guys, just steal a picture from the internet and print it out as if you snapped the greatest shot ever. You'll be better off, and I won't be distracted by your gadgets and their screens all lit up.
6. No fun stories for the audience?

Pro and Con: Percussionist Number Two: How can you possibly have at your little seat all these things: two pitched wooden boxes, a set of handbells, maracas, guiro, sleigh bells, recorder, chinese singing bowls, cabaza, four different shakers, chimes, bag of bells, steel drum, snare drum, bodhran, congas, bongos, tamborine, crash cymbal, cowbell, four almglocken, bowl attached to a stick, and three kinds of claves, and yet play just the right timbre at just the right moment to keep the music going?? It was just what I needed, right there. And you didn't overdo it. And yet sometimes I can't hear you at all, your microphone is too quiet, and all your efforts are completely lost. Why.

But then the pros, which altogether made the show pretty enjoyable.
1. Sam is really cute, and plays like he loves every minute, every word. His voice is lovely.
2. Piano/rhodes player provides good support.
3. Slide guitar, bassist, and guitarist play well.
4. Guitarist doubles on xylophone and accordion!
5. Great new arrangements of solo guitar music for large ensemble.
6. I'm really glad to see so many instruments on stage. Violin is in tune! Also, banjo and upright bass, and several guitar types. I think playing with combinations of instrument timbres is the future of pop music. It's already here, but there's more to say. I feel inspired!
7. Guy ahead of us is a kick-ass homosexual who writes a text message clearly readable from seats behind him, stating "I don't want to date him, I just want to f*** him".

Small tidbits

I think there is a dead something underneath my fridge. I can't get the fridge out of its nook to check, and my last resort is to look underneath with a flashlight, but I don't own a flashlight.

Also, the noises that an apartment makes are kind of creepy if you listen carefully enough. I think my walls are deteriorating at a noticeable rate.

I looked at my hands the other day and for the first time I noticed I had man hands, and not boy hands. The wrinkles have changed very subtly.

I can't stop thinking about the avant-garde food of Ferran Adria: This is a photo of the scientist/magician/chef, owner of perhaps the most famous restaurant in the world, El Bulli; I think this here is a solid tomato bisque, in ribbon-candy form. He is also famous for creating edible foams, and a fish spun into spiderweb consistency, then eaten like cotton candy.

Abercrombie Suggestive

Gone are the days of the nearly-pornographic Abercrombie Quarterly. Now only billboards remain, with their shirtless hunks, reminding us of better days of old, of times gone by...you know, circa 1999. This was a time when one could convince one's mom to buy him/her a magazine full of naked people, selling clothes by not wearing any at all. Brilliance. The clothes are pretty awful, anyway, so it's better marketing to not show them in the first place.
This is an old collage in tribute of those days. Notice the strategically placed anemone with little bits of text that I found from in a UPS magazine!

Girl With a Squirrel Earring

Everyone's favorite Netherlandish masterpiece. This came up in conversation tonight and I had to make a version of it- I tried to draw a comic of it but a cheap photoshopping does the trick even better, I think. I can imagine the squirrel whispering into her ear (in Renaissance Dutch, of course): "Girl, that Vermeer, he is NUTS."

Sax World

In addition to meeting some cool people this month, and having the orchestra performances, I had the pleasure of hosting the Erie Saxophone Quartet at Carnegie-Mellon. The group from SUNY Fredonia played two concerts, a select performance for music majors, and then an evening concert for the public. Both concerts went swimmingly well! The earlier performance included a premiere of one of my pieces which I wrote specifically for that concert: a saxophone octet! (We're all pictured here on stage.) We also had a composer visit from Norway, the delightful and attractive Peter Edwards, who also wrote a piece for Erie Sax Quartet. It was his first time in the States, and I'm amazed that he found his way to Pittsburgh from Manhattan, on a bus, and was waiting patiently for the quartet in the lounge of the music building!

I've decided that saxophones are my jam: I think the sax and I have a lot in common. We both felt a little left out in our skewed interests about classical music (we're both newbies to the classical world, all things considered) and we both like lots of different things. I like dance music and chocolate-covered pretzels, and the sax likes Miles Davis and Milhaud. We both hate Kenny G. He says potahto and I say mash 'em up with butter...okay, maybe we don't really have that much in common, but I love the sound of the saxophone and I want to keep writing for it! Its sound can be smoky or bright, sexy or stoic, crazy funky or mysterious. And how great is the contrabass sax, or the tubax, which I will probably never see in my life. Though for some reason our high school band had a bass saxophone, which I hear is not all that common either.

Photo courtesy of Peter Edwards, who managed to get all of us without red eyes. Though the magic of stage perspective makes me look less tall here.

Open Chest

A man came to deliver boxes of paper to the office a while back. Good-natured fellow, no complaints. He even helped me lift the heavy boxes of paper off the cart and onto the stairs, where I take them down into the basement. But then he told me he technically shouldn't help...and then he pulled up his shirt, revealing some serious scars. I don't know how you could still be alive with scars that looked like that, because they look ready to burst open at any moment. He exclaimed,
"I've been cut open! Hope you're not squeamish. Doctors told me I shouldn't lift anything, but hey, it hasn't killed me yet!!"

Symphony reading a success

It's over! The Pittsburgh Symphony has now read my orchestra piece, which was a success! The highlights of the performance included some weird power dynamic between the immature bass section and the conductor and the composer in residence, in which the basses (of which there were only 4 out of 9 players present) were asked to raise their dynamic level one tiny notch, and then instead of just very quiet, they played as loud as they could. The harpist was also waving her arms frantically trying to get my attention because her page was taped in backwards. Other than that!... the performance went well, and I'm really glad that the sounds in my brain translated to the music. I was most worried about the climax of the piece, that it wouldn't be long enough, but it was just right! The harp/piano/celesta trio also sounded really lovely and music-box-like, and the soprano sax was just the right haunting touch. Much to my surprise, the brass sections also sounded amazing (no offense to you good brass players); I wasn't sure if their parts would overpower the orchestra, but they didn't!

Though the entire reading session and its luncheon/Q&A were pretty shoddily put together, it was nonetheless a great experience, and I learned a lot about the preparation needed for a big piece. The other three students' works also had really good moments, and I liked most all of them, except for maybe some redundancy in one longer piece. John Corigliano, the composer in residence this year, mentioned that once a composer writes a piece, and hands it over to an orchestra, his job is basically done, aside from very small changes. It seems so obvious, but perhaps it's a good reminder to prepare as much as possible for anything that I could foresee being questioned, and have it clearly marked on the page. The contrabassoonist also made a good point that my piece being sort of slow and ethereal, that performers may have to put extra effort into shaping the sounds of slow notes and textural music, rather than zipping by quick passages, so that it actually makes a simpler piece more difficult to perform.
There will be one "real" concert performance of the piece, by the CMU Philharmonic on the 25th. Rehearsals for that concert begin tomorrow. But after the Pittsburgh Symphony stress, having to talk to the whole symphony on the podium (don't sound like an idiot! don't waste time! don't sweat through your shirt!), speaking to an orchestra of people my own age will seem less daunting.

(To the right, in no particular order: poorly planned photo opportunity with section leaders, student composers, I'm the one guy wearing a tie, conductor Larry Loh, and composer in residence, contrabassoonist).

Pittsburgh Symphony reading tomorrow

Tomorrow morning the Pittsburgh Symphony reads my orchestra piece! Along with three other students from universities in the city, we'll (hopefully) get good feedback on our work, along with a sound from one of the worlds top orchestras, that I'm sure will blow my mind, even if they are just sight-reading. I'm very excited, but very nervous. What if I get torn to pieces because my cues are ugly? Or if I forgot a senza sordino marking? Or what if the third trombone gets annoyed for sitting there too long and gets up in a huff and walks out? Luckily I don't think that will happen, but I'm still nervous. My family is also coming into town to hear the piece, as well as some friends, colleagues, and faculty. All things considered, though, I'm sure it will be a learning experience, and I have confidence that what I wrote is a good first piece for orchestra(!), including soprano sax, piano, and celeste, and some hot crotale action. I'm particularly excited to hear the climactic moment where everyone's really loud (and hopefully appropriately balanced) and the weird solo xylophone at the end, like one last little duck wandering around an Icelandic lake in springtime.
Wish me luck!
(Seen right: Heinz Hall at night, home of the PSO.)

Lose some, win some

The other night I went out to a bar expecting it to be hopping with activity- little did I realize that the gays as a whole are far less adventurous than my friends and I on a cold, snowy night. So I missed out on macking it with anyone (probably not a bad thing, really) but then there was a raffle for a CD that I would have liked to own, and my friend Mark gave me his ticket, which was called! So the end result was -1 makeout, +1 new Goldfrapp album, which I'm really enjoying.

Special Guests

It has been an exciting couple of weeks for this composer, and the end of March is even more filled with fun, with the Pittsburgh Symphony reading my piece, Carnegie-Mellon performing it, and then a student chamber recital the very next day. But for now, I've had the pleasure of seeing and meeting some really great musicians that I've admired, which for some reason I felt I never had the same experience at my undergrad. We certainly had our share of special guests there, but perhaps Pittsburgh's pull for celebrities is stronger, or I've been less shy to go up to someone and shake hands. A while ago I got to meet the composer in residence of the Symphony this year, John Corigliano. He chose my piece for the symphony reading, and he flies in from NYC from time to time for premiers and performances. He turned 70 this year, but doesn't look it. Sally and I got a picture with him, and we're all wearing our thick-rimmed glasses. Bummer that mine aren't red, or we'd be triplets.

Then, I got to see Evelyn Glennie up close and personal, at the autograph signing after her performance at the symphony (John Corigliano wrote a percussion concerto for her which she premiered in Pittsburgh.) I should have known that we weren't going to have a conversation, as she is deaf. And a superstar. The line for autographs was really long. Still, she signed a CD I had of her playing the Macmillan 'Veni, Veni Emmanuel' and she is completely glamorous, and every move she makes is fluid and graceful. Her performance was unbelievable- she improvised cadenzas that I wished would go on and on, using everything from pieces of wood to marimba, timpani, gongs, and drums.


Two nights ago, I got to meet and chat with the composer Ricky Ian Gordon! First I started off as the doorman, but luckily I got to join the party after all the guests arrived. We chatted briefly about a song I used to listen to while I was an undergrad and it really moved me- it was one of those songs you stumble upon at the end of a CD (actually, the AIDS Quilt Songbook), which I was listening to as it also featured a Vassar professor. Ricky's song was last and I copied the music so I could play it myself. I've played that song for years, and he seemed very appreciative to hear that. We also compared striped suit jackets and devoured some delicious petit fours together. The evening was made complete by seeing admired faculty members relax for once and enjoy a glass (or three) of wine, and then everyone gave hugs goodbye. If only we drank wine and then hugged at the end of every harmonic analysis. Hugs would make a Schenkerian "Zug" so much sweeter. Hugs for Zugs!!

There are still more musical guests to come!

Ostrich legs

Did you know that ostrich legs bend backwards?
Well, they do. They don't have this many joints, but I bet bending down from the other direction feels like this, and probably sounds like a squeezed accordion.

Hillary Ping Pong

I had a fantastic trip to Washington D.C. this past weekend! The trip included seeing much-missed friends, catching the Museum of the American Indian (which far surpassed my expectations of it), and seeing Hillary Clinton's campaign headquarters, where my friend Ryan works. I call it Hill HQ for short. My posse and I got a personal tour (not from the lady herself, sadly, I think she was in Wisconsin, but I'm sure she'd take time out just for us to show where the staff does yoga if she could) from Ryan. We stopped on one of the floors, where there's a ping-pong table, a podium (practice debates!), and not much else. To amuse ourselves for a few minutes, how about a game of ping-pong? To which I proceeded to swiftly whack the only ping-pong ball up into the ceiling through an open panel where the tile had been removed. I eventually found the ball with the help of a Hillary Flashlight and teamwork, but thank goodness no one important saw us, or the scene might have looked like this.
On a side note, Mark wondered if the ping-pong paddles had Hillary's face on them. Sadly, no, (though Photoshop could make that happen) but we did decide that "ping-ponging" would be the "flip-flopping" of the 2008 election.

Study in Shapes and Colors

Random colorful strips of paper with overlaid squares, and in the squares, circles.

HVD2008?

As my good friend Peter pointed out, Valentine's Day shares an acronym with another nagging part of love, venereal disease. All the more reason to celebrate being single. To the right: my Valentine's Day card for this year.

Copy Mayhem

Today was the day that I finally turned in all the instrument parts and the score for the reading of my orchestra piece! The Pittsburgh Symphony now owes me 1.5 hours for time spent in four different buildings, searching for a copy machine that functioned. That's right, not one, not two, but four copy machines I tried to use had some defect, including:
1. totally broken and parts were on order
2. weird red lines of waxy substance on glass made stray marks on every copy
3. toner lines across every page
4. paper jam, and yet no paper in the machine

In addition, there were other copy machines that worked, but I couldn't use cash. I could, however, put money on a card which I could swipe on the copier. The catch is that the cards can only be purchased with five dollar bills. And I only had ones. Curse you, George Washington!

In any case, an angel descended upon me in the form of Amy and her architecture office, who let me do all the copying, which went smoothly from there on! It's a huge relief for me to be done with the prep work, but now I'm just nervous that there are mistakes that went unnoticed. Such is life- I'm not overly anal about meticulous details, but I certainly don't want a page from the harp part in the saxophone folder. How does one play pres de la table on the sax?

Photo: not related, but putting papers together nonetheless. Photo credit: Sally Bozzuto.

Chili

And God said, "Let there be no more eating of thine delicious chili,
for I will make thy jejunum very angry."

Mama's Pizza

That last post was a little serious. To return to something lighter (and doughier?), let's take a look at what I think the ideal pizza parlor would be called. Mmmm?
The byline is the kicker, but an added bonus is the bright ad I'd put in the window.
The next comic is missing this fabulous ad in the window, but the signage is the obvious natural progression:

Virtues and Vices

It's difficult to talk about one's vices without 1. sounding complainy, or 2. inviting a pity party, where your friends feel obligated to say something nice to you. That being said, I think of all the vices or 'deadly sins' I could be held accountable for, jealousy (also categorized as envy) is at the top of my list.

As much as I try to live my life without comparing myself to others, it's pretty much impossible for me. (Sloth, on the other hand, would be on the bottom of the list of vices, but sloths are on the top of my list of 'Thank God These Animals Exist!!'). Jealousy is a clingy bitch I just can't seem to shake. I admire people for their expertise in their field, but because I often lack mastery at one particular area, and I'm still 'young', I somehow find myself coming up short, and being too self-critical. I can write music pretty well, but there's so many musical things I haven't learned which I feel that I should know by now. I can talk about art history a bit, but I can't draw a figure that doesn't look like a comic. I love design, but I'm only beginning to learn what it actually takes to choose a good font.
I can be very organized, but I can forget small details, and I envy those who have excellent retention of facts. I'm also really jealous that other people have money. Not just disposable income, sure, but things like, oh, steady jobs, and careers. Retirement account? Pshaw. I would probably shoot myself if I had to work as an investment banker, though.

Things that I am also jealous about, to a lesser degree:

-muscles
-boyfriends, girlfriends, and the men/women who love them (more of a disgust+envy mix)
-people who buy clothes at regular price, thus, finding the right size, clothes fit properly!
-CD collections
-kids who have no college debt
-boys with lots of hair (and not lots of shoulder hair, like I have)
-classical piano skills

Things I don't have, but I'm not jealous about:
-expensive cars
-quality of housing
-big television
-breasts

But there is good news! I read an article by a Vassar grad (Dawn Deisbach, '90) who called herself a 'Generalist': she wasn't interested in any one field in her lifetime, but instead, drew the different parts of her life together, from writing a play to playing the violin, acting, and writing feminist papers. She writes that "there's never enough time to do all we're capable of...and burnout is often one rehearsal or revision away...yet [I] can remain ridiculously busy and feel energized." I think the key to overcoming my jealous vice is to recognize that I have talents which are diverse, and where some areas of my knowledge might seem incomplete, I am also interested in pulling together many other areas where many people focus in just one field. Many people I know don't care about contemporary art, but that shouldn't make my interest in art any less valid.

Like the Vassar grad, I'm optimistic that I too will be able to pull my interests together to pay the rent and not end up a crack whore. I don't expect it to happen overnight, so until then, I work as much as I can at random jobs (excluding crack and prostitution).

Second on the list of vices would have to be lust. But I'm down with lust.


Above: green-eyed monster, with black eyebrows.
What is your deadliest sin, viciest vice?

Teeshirt Necklace

This necklace made its debut for the Wungsten concert performance, but in case you weren't there (heaven forbid) and seeing how it's about the only new piece of jewelry/sculptural design/tumor-like protrusion/recycled material homage to Louis Bourgeois that I've made in a while, I thought I might highlight it. It's made of one whole teeshirt! I cut it up and tied it, and wound with string and a few black glass beads. Here the strap is also doubled- it can hang low as well. Perfect for those star-studded red carpet events I know all my readers are attending this year. Nothing says 'Glamour, Now!' more than knobby black fingers poking out of your neck (+ Balenciaga gown, and you're good to go).

Sick, Classes, Vitamin C

Classes started again this week and I of course got sick, with all the new germs having arrived back in town and stopping into the tiny closet where I work. Sadly I couldn't skip class, as it's the first class of the semester and I didn't want to lose my spot. Thankfully I feel better and I'm now ready to start many new exciting classes, like Choral Arranging, Communication Design, and an Architecture+Art course. I'm also excited about hearing a saxophone octet I wrote premiered in a couple months (8 saxes! Adolph would be proud), and I'm getting down to business in editing parts for the orchestra performance/reading. But I think for safety's sake I'm going to start the next few days off with some extra Vitamin C.

Beading/Beating

Oh, how easily we can miscommunicate in our clumsy English language. It's like that old saying. "Women are from Venus; Men are from the Ren Fair."
Or something like that.

Material Goods

The more things I acquire, the less I am able to say 'I don't have a lot of things', but the more I want to say it.











(right: a collage grid of slide library index cards c. 2003, a tribute to Agnes Martin.)

Ways I Am Like My Father

I looked in the reflection of a car the other day and I realized that my face looks a lot more like my father than it used to. When I was younger, I looked more like my mom, and my sister looked like my father; now the tides have turned. It's a good thing my dad's a pretty good-lookin' guy.

Ways I am also like my father:
Constantly present forms of facial hair
Receding hairline
Enjoys fruit snacks
Bass-baritone
Even temperament
Likes making lists (see this list)
Discusses poop
Dislikes small children
Reads up on travel destinations

Ways I am not like my father:
Unmarried
Rent an apartment
I sleep with dudes
Quieter vocal formants (soft-spoken)
Career path
Enjoys lasagna and cheese pizza
Taut abdomen

Ways I am still like my mother:
Tears easily with reminiscence

New Handmade Cards

This one is nature-themed. Perfect for sending to grandmas. Which I proceeded to do.
Sewed some thread on vellum and layered some graphic ad underneath. What a bright idea. Har-Har.
This card uses vintage photos of historic architecture taken out of an old dusty book (thanks Amy!) The front is a Swiss castle. But the inside of the card is a cathedral with bright stickers that look like explosions!! Religion was never so exciting!!
Lots of dots on which I wired buttons. I liked the swoopy black and white font art at the bottom.
This one's great: a family of admirers looking at a giant fashionable Kirsten Dunst!

Sensitive to the Chilly

This is a really old image but I feel for this timid bird in weather like this. Do birds' feet get cold in icy water? Should we be dressing our winter waterfowl in webbed booties? Luckily both this duck (?) and I wear scarves. And I don't have to swim to work.

Stay Away, Sweeney Todd

A first for the follicles: After hundreds (thousands even?) of electric razor shaves since my teenage years, I shaved my face for the first time with a safety razor. Not the straight-edge barber kind, but just the kind of razor that the rest of the world has used for decades. I suppose I belong to a generation which has never needed to use regular razors if they don't want to. How perfectly Gen Y. But not yet Generation Entitlement, in which I would have to feel like I deserve a new electric razor every month and I'd just throw a perfectly good one away. Why? 'Cause my parents are off in Bora Bora and I have the McMansion to myself, and I can do what I want.

Jesus with the Rockettes

Here's a wintry scene I made a couple years ago made up of collaged papers including that old advertisement for some liquor involving random Rockettes or Vegas-style ladies dressed as snowflakes, falling down from the sky. Lovely. I kind of like the pictorial aspect of this, though- it is so much more difficult to rip up papers in the shape of something, rather than just going for abstraction.
There's also a star in the night sky, probably a photo that I painted on. Maybe it's pointing out Bethlehem over there beyond those construction paper hills of snow. If I were a King-slash-Wise Man, I wouldn't have any problem following falling Rockettes from the sky toward a giant star made out of twigs and paint. After all, I am a king and a wise man, so what I say goes. And I say we are going to go over this hill whether you like it or not. All in a day's work, I'd say. Well, we've come this far searching for Rockettes that we might as well rest our chunks of gold, frankincense and myrrh here in this ol' barn. Oh look! A baby.

lolcats christmas

Sally and I updated a tacky holiday card. It's so much better now.

Mahler on the Subway

Alex Ross, writer of the fantastic book The Rest is Noise tells that when Mahler was appointed the conductor for the NY Philharmonic in 1909, he'd take the subway system to work. At that time, the NYC metro was only a couple years old, and I can imagine the novel excitement of commuting underground to your destination. Which I'm sure was, for Mahler, more glamorous than some of the stops I've had to get off at. (Why can't all the stops be designed by Squire Vickers?) However, Mahler being Mahler, I can only imagine the thoughts running through his nervous, energetic head while he's riding the subway. Naturally this image came to mind- even in the middle of the day, Mahler rides alone on a train. He thinks to himself, "This train is a machine of death. Don't die don't die don't die. It's taking me to Hell. I have to conduct my symphony tonight. My children are dead. WAGNER!! Oh, here's my stop."
It also begs the thought that perhaps he might have one day gotten around to writing Transitodenlieder. Songs on the death of transit. Or maybe Das Lied von der Metro? Song of the Subway? Luckily Mahler survived his commute, and Mahler's symphonies are preserved in even better condition than those hundred-year-old tunnels beneath this beautiful earth.

46 Menorahmobiles Led the Big Parade

Last Sunday I witnessed a parade down a busy shopping street of 46 vehicles with PVC-pipe Menorahs strapped to the roofs. 46. Some were gold, some silver, but almost all had working lights which I assume are powered by God. Or cigarette lighters. The parade was accompanied by police cars, who kept other traffic from getting in the way of Hanukkah. The picture to the right is copyright URBANPHOTO and shows a nice wooden menorah, which has not yet migrated to Pittsburgh. Being behind the times in fashion, we still have plastic and metal rooftop accoutrements.
Those light-up menorahs, by the way, are on full candlepower today Hanukkah ends tonight at sundown.

Hidden Giraffe

This is a collage in the vein of Highlights magazine, the children's magazine of choice for all doctors' and dentists' offices. On the last page there was often a pen and ink drawing, with a bunch of things hidden within a face, or a woodland scene. As in, 'Can you find these 10 kitchen appliances hidden in this picture of a bear?' and sure enough, there was a blender, tucked away in the bear's paw!
The differences between Highlights and my collage are that this collage is totally obvious and there's only one thing to find. Can you spot the giraffe hidden in this sahara tree? I bet you can't!!

Bodies and Souls

It's eleven o'clock. Do you know where your spleen is?
I went to see the traveling exhibit 'Bodies' this past weekend with Jess and Bobby. Not only did I discover what my spleen looked like, but I discovered several items inside my body that I did not know I had. One, the jejunum, which is apparently part of my intestine. Two, a tissue-papery wall covering my stomach and internal organ area. There were some squeamish moments for me, especially in seeing an entire human skin spread out on a table, and then seeing diseased organs (this is your lung after smoking for years...this is your kidney on crack!) but overall, I was more inquisitive than grossed out. I thought I would be affected by seeing fetuses in various weeks of development (all were miscarried) but I was curious as to the growth of a baby inside of a person as the weeks progress. But overall, the exhibit was thoughtful and many things were even quite beautiful, like the circulatory displays of arteries, which were dramatically lit and bright red, down to the tiniest gossamer capillaries.
There was a lot of controversy surrounding this exhibit, especially in the lack of documentation of exactly who these people are. All of the organs and bodies are real people, preserved through a polymer process called 'plastination', developed in the 1970's. I kept having to remind myself that was I was seeing was not fake: it's a real spinal chord and ribs in which everything else on the body has been removed, and a real baby, and a real brain. This leads me to unanswered questions about huge issues: being healthy, self-awareness, sexuality, death, and the necessity for the preservation of our bodies if we do not need them when we're done with them. It also speaks of the resilience of our bodies, and how dynamic our insides are! I also thought, 'this is going to make me a hypochondriac'. One little bruise and I'll start to feel bad for my capillaries having to do so much work. It also reminds me of the Renaissance, when 'science' and 'religion' were less separate- my brain conjures images of dark mysterious findings in secret basement meetings, where little was known about how our bodies looked on the inside. If only da Vinci could see this show.
I seriously didn't plan this on purpose, but after we went to check out or bodies, we checked into our souls with a Service of Lessons and Carols. What an appropriate combo! It wasn't the most spectacular-filled event, but it got us into the Christmas spirit with candlelit readings and choir hymns, and afterward, there was a huge candlelit reception with loads of baked goods (naturally, I think the key to a good church is in its baked goods). I try and attend a Lessons and Carols service every year; not only does the event have good music, and great ambiance, it gives me a sense of community, no matter what faith I belong to. It's also refreshing to hear non-tacky 'holiday' music after listening to so much Christmas Crap on the radio. Added bonuses: 1. seeing two organists switch off mid-phrase, as one just scooted off the bench and began to conduct, while the other didn't even miss a note; 2. the choir director there is letting me write a piece for his bell choir. And 3. the crumb cake was heavenly, as were several other pieces of cake which I sampled from the baked goods. My stomach certainly had no complaints.


Cake courtesy of http://products.proflowers.com/cherrymoonfarms-cmf/cakes/classiccrumbcake-12721.