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!