Friday, August 26, 2011

Time to take a few moments off from hurricane preparation and introduce you to 29 Summer St.!



The view down the street:



We currently have a few wicker chairs out on the front porch:



But we don't use either porch very much, because our kitchen is so nice for eating in:



In part it's so nice because it looks out on our massive back yard. Here is the closest 1/3 of the back yard; after the tree is more grass and a pretty flower garden:



While we're in the kitchen, you should take a moment and peer into the pantry to see some Indiana-grown squash. Miraculously, they seem to be doing extremely well, despite having been picked several months earlier than squash are typically harvested!



Go through the pantry and you pass into the music room (presumably a former dining room). Look back towards the pantry to see the piano:



Turn back around and you look right into the living room:



The two glowing eyes on the couch give you some idea of the amount of space in the room, which is indicative of the amount of space in the house.

And we're back at the front door, just to your left.

I can't stress enough how nice the kitchen is. How's this for storage?



The upstairs rooms are still not looking all that exciting (well, my office, anyway--Sara's looks pretty good), so those will wait till a future post. For now I'll just finish with a few pictures of the area from a nice bike ride and a beautiful hike we took while Dad was visiting last weekend.

Here's a view from beautiful Amherst College towards the Holyoke Range:



And a few shots from the hike in the Holyoke Range (the barely-visible high-rise buildings in the distance are UMass's campus):





What do you do when a hurricane is bearing down on your area? You buy renter's insurance, of course! We got ours effective midnight tonight, inspired in part by the NY Times' prediction of the path of the hurricane pictured above (we're about 20 miles north of Springfield).

I promise there will be more updates soon, with pictures and all, but we were without internet for so long, and now there's a lot to do. Soon!

Monday, August 1, 2011

Several experiences recently have gotten me thinking about the "state" of modern "classical" music. The first was a conversation with a student where we discussed how little influence modern "classical" composers have on society. He said, "But that should change, right? Because it's become so much more accessible?"

Then today my assistant instructor was teaching minimalism, and he kept comparing it to integral serialism.

Then just now I saw a thread on Facebook: a middle-aged composer had (lightheartedly) complained that so many young composers point out on their websites that they write music that "people want to hear," and most of the replies were from people saying that we should be happy they're writing things people want to hear, because modernism ruined music and now they're trying to save it.

I have mixed feelings about this. I believe high modernism alienated a lot of people, but the absolute disdain with which it's seen today by anyone who's not a music theorist (and even a lot of music theorists) is almost offensive. Someone found almost every hated piece beautiful--this is almost never discussed--and there is beauty in complexity.

At the same time, I am pretty convinced that people are wrong when they suggest that things are better today. The modernists may have driven away their audience. But the reason modern "classical" composers don't have a comparable voice today isn't due to the modernists: it's due to radical changes in society that have occurred in the meantime and had both good and bad effects. One of those effects is that people can now easily have enough music in their lives. We can hear it anytime, for very cheap, from digital media and the internet. But we can also experience it live in invigorating (and socially valued) venues at bars and restaurants, again for pretty cheap. Why would the average person go out of their way to go to a symphony concert? (Of course, "elite" society has embraced The Classics as "our music," and that's one reason.) That's not a socially exciting venue any more for most people, and they have alternate routes to music that are very satisfying.

If we want to "draw people back to classical music," the large-scale changes that need to happen aren't "writing prettier music." They are education on the one hand, or changing everything about "classical" music: the way it's written, the venues in which it's performed, and the discourse about it in society. There are ensembles enthusiastically pursuing the latter changes, but to me they can have a sense of faddishness to them ("let's throw some Radiohead on the concert!").

Of course, to an educator like myself, the important time is now. I get to experience lots of great music myself, so in many ways I'm happy with where we are right now. But I teach everything I possibly can, and that includes Babbitt and Boulez and Stockhausen along with Rochberg and Riley and Adams. Okay, to be honest, I'm not including John Williams, or Eric Whitacre, or Frank Ticheli, but I'd love to make the effort to do so. (Hm.... maybe not Ticheli.) I will finish my course by pointing out to my students that in teaching a course on 20th century music, I'm telling a story, and hopefully empowering them to retell the story in their own words. They're not passive observers of changes in society or music--they're the ones who will shape them.

Sometimes that's scary to me, and sometimes it makes me really excited about the fact that I have the opportunity to teach them.