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.

America is Listening

This is too strange- I was listening to an a capella version of Paul Simon's song America (sung by the Vassar Devils, if you were curious) and it was the last song on the CD. As I was about to get up and put in another CD, a car zoomed by outside with its windows down and it was blasting the original of the same song. And it was just ending as well. Now, am I crazy, or is this a weird coincidence? They're popular songs, sure, but certainly there's more common things to be playing. Right? Like 'Toxic'. Or 'Hey Ya'. Or everyone's favorite, 'Beer Barrel Polka'.

Dawn Upshaw

The world-renowned soprano Dawn Upshaw gave a Master Class to voice students (and others) at CMU this afternoon. Along with insightful comments for the vocalists, like thoughts about diction, phrasing, emotion, and motivation, she also let it be known that she was frustrated with the recital hall's lighting, so we all moved to the recital hall across the hall.
I also really appreciated the fact that Ms. Upshaw stressed the importance of the composer's intentions, that 'we' (being composers) write music for a reason, down to each little slur and hairpin crescendo. She also joked that she just doesn't choose to work with anyone anymore who doesn't have good reasons for the way they write their music. She mentioned in a Q & A that when she prepares for a performance, she'll research the history of the piece (even if it's a tiny art song, let alone her premiers of 4-hour operas), learn about the composer, study the basic harmonic structure of the song, listen to recordings, and translate every word of the text, or write it all out to internalize it, and then ponder how to communicate this work's meaning to the audience. This all happens before she begins to sing one single note.
But most importantly, Ms. Upshaw brought a surprising amount of energy to the room, to the audience, and to the singers baring their all (only to be criticized, and then built back up again). She didn't have to move much, but her voice was eloquent and thoughtful, well-spoken (well, I would hope so), and her body had a certain energy to it when she would illustrate a point that I think only comes from years of loving music and knowing it inside and out. I don't ever want to be in a German diction contest with this woman, either.
On a visual note, I think Ms. U was wearing this same necklace this afternoon as this picture, courtesy of wikipedia. Cue the fashionista voice: Girl, I could make you some jewelry that would pop the eyes out of those grey-haired Met Opera grannies. You jus' gimme a call, mmkay? This one's a little too quiet for you. I'm thinking lots of feathers and baubles as big as your operatic fists. The diva must have the perfect necklace to boot.

Monochrome Triangles

Beige and gray triangles for a rainy day.

Happy Thanksgiving Hand Turkeys

Happy Thanksgiving holiday to those American readers out there. (Happy Thanksgiving wishes to all those who don't have the holiday too! I know it seems like you're missing out but I'm sure Guy Fawkes day and Boxing Day are fun for you too, and I don't do anything special on your holidays.) I'm looking forward to time with my family, friends, and a real piano. Now go trace your hand on a piece of paper as if it were a turkey, or perhaps make it all abstract, with just a hint of beak. Also, be sure to stuff your face full of canned cranberry sauce- those ridges make it taste better somehow.

These Things, They Are All But(t) Words

I debated whether this would be appropriate for my dear readers. I'm not usually a terrible vulgar person, and I try to keep my posts somewhat educational (a music review here, a collage there) but this idea was too good to pass up, so if you're easily offended, move on.
We all know of the pants with 'PRINCESS' on the butts, or even 'bitch', 'sexy', and others. But I think we could really pump up the volume on this cliched fashion. I just know the corporations could make some big bucks on these ideas for sweatpants/gym shorts letterings, so these are so totally copyright moi. If I see 'The Fact That I Have Words Here is a Feminist Discourse Which Empowers Me' as sewed-on letters to the next Abercrombie pants I'm gonna be furious. (That one's a little hard to read in this image, it's a lot of letters to sew on.) Here are a few ideas for re-envisioned words on the behinds of all the sorority girls you know and love.

All the New News and Pittsburgh Symphony Reading!

There's been so much new news that has come to be in November, it's almost hard to remember it all. But luckily it's all been good news, and all exciting adventures.
The biggest news is that I finished my orchestra piece, Lake Myvatn. It's about 8 minutes and 20 seconds long (one movement) and 144 measures. A gross of measures, if you will. Not very many, compared to most orchestral pieces, but it does more more slowly. I'm excited to hear all the celeste and crotale sounds, and the intense brass and string sections. The Carnegie-Mellon Philharmonic will be playing it in the Spring.
But in reality, that's not really the biggest news. I thought it was, but then I heard something two days ago. The biggest biggest news is that John Corigliano, the Composer of the Year for the Pittsburgh Symphony's Composer, chose my piece (and 3 other local grad students from surrounding colleges) to be read by the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra. The PSO is top-notch. And I am so delighted. There won't be a formal concert, but the Symphony will rehearse my piece and ask me questions, and I'll be able to ask them questions, and get feedback about what worked, and what I can do more effectively. I am bummed that my friend Matt didn't get picked- I think he has great ideas and I would have been happy to see him get a reading as well...but it's still good to win. The reading will happen sometime in March. I was expecting the decision sometime around Spring as well, so this came so suddenly. Hooray!

Other news in brief: Pre-Halloween festivities caused Sally and me to dress up and Sally wore My Little Ponies in her hair. I wore teeny tiny shorts and a clip-on tie from 5th grade. I can't believe I hadn't posted this picture yet.It's also an explosion of yellow outside my treehouse door, and more colors of strange neon translucence await me on my walk every day.






Such a shame that the photos don't even do the colors justice, as the remainder of the bright leaves here are quite electrifying, practically enveloping one in a bath of color.

I'm also designing things! The School of Music let me design an invitation for a fancypants piano concert they're giving for the CMU elite, and I also designed three different (and fabulous) graphic posters for the Student Composer's Concert tomorrow night.
I'm taking a Communication Design Fundamentals course next semester, and I'm really excited about learning about design for realz, and not just faking it. Then again, some good ideas come from working with what you've got...
Like taking a spool of wire and some beads from a Claire's bracelet that you found on the ground and combining it with some gaudy chandelier drops and you can have a really fantastic sculptural necklace. I also reclaimed a wool sweater by spray-painting on fleur-de-lis stencils and adding a vintage patch to cover a hole. It sadly did not get accepted into the craft book I entered it into, but I did get it back so I can wear it around. And sew up the holes that I missed the first time. Which makes me wonder why Goodwill missed this one (or a memo to Goodwill: there is a mouse in your building.)

And last but certainly not to be the least, is that I now have a real website!

Check out nathan-hall.net and listen to some music samples, check out a couple collages, read about me (just not too carefully, the texts still need some editing), and then commission me to write you some music, of course. I do it all! And by all, I just mean some of the artsy fartsy stuff, and no sports at all, and certainly nothing having to do with any real business skills, which hasn't made me any money yet but it does get me all the ladies. And by all the ladies I mean the friends I already had, and we talk about graphic design, the periodic table of elements, and why no one wants to wear my sculptural necklace made of chandelier pendants out in public. In fact, though I've been exceedingly happy about all my design endeavors, I've been steadily losing money. But soon enough, my friends.
Soon enough.