I neglected to mention in my last post that Sherry and I also ate lunch with Mike and Willow while we were in NYC, which was nice. And Mike Ludders' reference to "one of Mozart's Requiems" (of which, I assure you, there are as many as 1 - almost), along with the fact that my ensemble has been reading through said Requiem, brought to mind something that occurred to me long ago.
First, for those of you who don't know it (shame on you!) here's the Rex Tremendae movement's opening:
Orchestra: YOM bom. BOM! Yadum badum badum badum badum badum YOM dum YOM dum YOM dum YOM YOM bum.
Choir: REX!
Orchestra: yadum badum badum badum badum badum BOM.
Choir: REX!
Orchestra: yadum badum badum badum...
...and so on in this vein.
So my question about this is - as much as I try to avoid the "intentional fallacy" - does anyone think this sounds like Mozart shouting at his dog?
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
The trip to NYC went really well. Unfortunately, it was threatening to rain the whole time. Fortunately, most of the time it wasn't actually following through. Still, we spent our first day inside:
Sherry and me at the Coney Island aquarium
(sorry, that was cheap)
To be fair:
Sherry and me at the aquarium
The second day we were hoping to visit Claire in Philadelphia, but for $40 each and 4 hours of traveling for a 2 hour stay we ended up staying in the city. We decided to risk the weather and took a walking tour of the Lower East Side, a traditionally Jewish neighborhood. It rained a few times, but what are umbrellas for?
An old synagogue near the start of the tour - interestingly enough, while our tour guide mentioned that this place is likely to stop operating soon as its congregation passes away, as a NY historic landmark the Hebrew on the front will have to stay, even if it becomes, say, a church or a bar. (Interestingly, it had previously been a church.)
The Eldridge St. Synagogue. This one was built by a split-off from the congregation of the previous synagogue who were upset that they were moving into a former church. Clearly, this faction was pretty rich. However, the remaining congregation doesn't even use the space - apparently it was shut up and deteriorating for years until a researcher spearheaded an effort to restore it. It's still kind of a mess inside.
A headstone in the Shearith Israel cemetery, from a group of Jews who migrated around 1650. This was one of many Revolutionary War soldiers buried here, an area which was once swampland outside the (Dutch) city.
Sherry and me at the Coney Island aquarium
(sorry, that was cheap)
To be fair:
Sherry and me at the aquarium
The second day we were hoping to visit Claire in Philadelphia, but for $40 each and 4 hours of traveling for a 2 hour stay we ended up staying in the city. We decided to risk the weather and took a walking tour of the Lower East Side, a traditionally Jewish neighborhood. It rained a few times, but what are umbrellas for?
An old synagogue near the start of the tour - interestingly enough, while our tour guide mentioned that this place is likely to stop operating soon as its congregation passes away, as a NY historic landmark the Hebrew on the front will have to stay, even if it becomes, say, a church or a bar. (Interestingly, it had previously been a church.)
The Eldridge St. Synagogue. This one was built by a split-off from the congregation of the previous synagogue who were upset that they were moving into a former church. Clearly, this faction was pretty rich. However, the remaining congregation doesn't even use the space - apparently it was shut up and deteriorating for years until a researcher spearheaded an effort to restore it. It's still kind of a mess inside.
A headstone in the Shearith Israel cemetery, from a group of Jews who migrated around 1650. This was one of many Revolutionary War soldiers buried here, an area which was once swampland outside the (Dutch) city.
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Today I had a bizarre conversation with a student as we were leaving class. Stan had just taught an Ives song with some terrific syncopated rhythms (General Booth Enters Into Heaven - one of the best). I was humming the easy, diatonic part:
Her: Oh, you can sing it?
Me: Oh, well, I was just humming the easy part.
Her: Ah. Are you in the jazz program?
Me (surprised): Uh, no, I'm in theory all the way.
Her: Really?? ...Did you ever study jazz at any point?
Me: Well, not really.
I suppose I just look like a guy who'd know jazz. Well, you live and you learn.
Anyway, quick update on my classes. The first is a complete joke. I actually learned a few things today. Not much, though. At least we're beyond learning to search the IU library catalog (mostly).
The other class is Renaissance music. I've already taken a Medieval and Renaissance class at Kenyon, but it's always nice to have a second time around on something you really enjoy and really want to learn. I'm trying to really carefully read the book this time, to remind myself of a bit more detail in the lives of important composers as well as to remind myself (period) of some of the ones I didn't really remember. And when the professor confessed that she's not really into the theory as much as the culture/sociology, that went on my list to learn, too. But today was pretty painful. The first 10 minutes of class were wasted trying to discuss the ratios of the note values in a certain manuscript to the note values in a modern edition of the same piece. She kept tripping over which level of pulse was the tempus (the measure level, basically) and which was the prolation (the level below that). And then about 5 of those minutes were filled with her trying to both remember and demonstrate how the breve related to the semibreve related to the minim in this particular tempus/prolation. Now, obviously, considering that most of you probably have no idea what any of that means, this is kind of esoteric stuff. But she's teaching the course. It really was painful to sit there while she stuttered and made mistakes. I know that can be painful from a teacher's point of view, but it really felt like she hadn't prepared very well.
Anyway, this is still a chance for me to spend more time with the Renaissance book and get credit for it. And who knows? Maybe things will look up as we really get into our subjects.
I'm off to New York City this weekend! That'll be fun. I'll try to remember my camera so that I can post some pictures (of Sherry and I in the rain) and hopefully some actually exciting news afterwards.
Her: Oh, you can sing it?
Me: Oh, well, I was just humming the easy part.
Her: Ah. Are you in the jazz program?
Me (surprised): Uh, no, I'm in theory all the way.
Her: Really?? ...Did you ever study jazz at any point?
Me: Well, not really.
I suppose I just look like a guy who'd know jazz. Well, you live and you learn.
Anyway, quick update on my classes. The first is a complete joke. I actually learned a few things today. Not much, though. At least we're beyond learning to search the IU library catalog (mostly).
The other class is Renaissance music. I've already taken a Medieval and Renaissance class at Kenyon, but it's always nice to have a second time around on something you really enjoy and really want to learn. I'm trying to really carefully read the book this time, to remind myself of a bit more detail in the lives of important composers as well as to remind myself (period) of some of the ones I didn't really remember. And when the professor confessed that she's not really into the theory as much as the culture/sociology, that went on my list to learn, too. But today was pretty painful. The first 10 minutes of class were wasted trying to discuss the ratios of the note values in a certain manuscript to the note values in a modern edition of the same piece. She kept tripping over which level of pulse was the tempus (the measure level, basically) and which was the prolation (the level below that). And then about 5 of those minutes were filled with her trying to both remember and demonstrate how the breve related to the semibreve related to the minim in this particular tempus/prolation. Now, obviously, considering that most of you probably have no idea what any of that means, this is kind of esoteric stuff. But she's teaching the course. It really was painful to sit there while she stuttered and made mistakes. I know that can be painful from a teacher's point of view, but it really felt like she hadn't prepared very well.
Anyway, this is still a chance for me to spend more time with the Renaissance book and get credit for it. And who knows? Maybe things will look up as we really get into our subjects.
I'm off to New York City this weekend! That'll be fun. I'll try to remember my camera so that I can post some pictures (of Sherry and I in the rain) and hopefully some actually exciting news afterwards.
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
I'm proud in many ways to be (at least) the third generation of academic musician Chenettes. However, I don't always like it when people hear I'm going into music and they say, "Well, I guess it's in your genes!" I'm not entirely sure why. I suppose it wouldn't be the same if people saw me as following in Mom's shoes. After all, I think it's clear to most people that instrumentalists and singers are very individual. However, I think that to the eyes of the world, and even to the eyes of other musicians, academic musicians might as well all be the same, or at least interchangeable. But that's okay - I do feel I'm doing things that are individual, and fascinating. I think it's a large part, also, of why I love the piano so much: I don't fit simply into the "academic" side of things. (On top of the fact that it's so enjoyable, both kinetically and aurally!)
In any case, it's going to be hard to get away from this "legacy" this summer! The professor I'm working with in teaching was active with Dad on the Iowa Composers' Forum board, and currently teaches at Butler, where Grandpa used to teach (and administrate). Actually, he didn't just have contact with my relatives, but also with me: he's pretty sure he saw me at an ICF competition, playing one of my own pieces, however many long years ago!
Meanwhile, I was going into my morning class and walked past the teacher coming out from the previous class. She paused and said, "You must be Tim Chenette." I agreed. She said that I'm in her afternoon class. I said it was good to meet her. She mentioned that she knows Dad (I forget how: her name's Mary Paquett-Abt, I believe, and she's a musicologist - Dad, any ideas?) and that she just recently met Grandpa, I think at AMS. She also mentioned that I look just like Dad.
Well, I guess no one should be ashamed of their heritage. And of course I have absolutely no reason to be! But sometimes I wish my relatives were a little less famous (just kidding, Dad!).
In any case, it's going to be hard to get away from this "legacy" this summer! The professor I'm working with in teaching was active with Dad on the Iowa Composers' Forum board, and currently teaches at Butler, where Grandpa used to teach (and administrate). Actually, he didn't just have contact with my relatives, but also with me: he's pretty sure he saw me at an ICF competition, playing one of my own pieces, however many long years ago!
Meanwhile, I was going into my morning class and walked past the teacher coming out from the previous class. She paused and said, "You must be Tim Chenette." I agreed. She said that I'm in her afternoon class. I said it was good to meet her. She mentioned that she knows Dad (I forget how: her name's Mary Paquett-Abt, I believe, and she's a musicologist - Dad, any ideas?) and that she just recently met Grandpa, I think at AMS. She also mentioned that I look just like Dad.
Well, I guess no one should be ashamed of their heritage. And of course I have absolutely no reason to be! But sometimes I wish my relatives were a little less famous (just kidding, Dad!).
Monday, June 19, 2006
I thought my Music Bibliography class was boring: today we learned, essentially, how to search IU's card catalog. But it could always be worse. Right after class, I saw a friend and asked her what class she was going to. It turned out to be Graduate Aural Skills Review. "And you know what we've learned?" she asked. "In a minor key, four is minor!" Considering she spent all of first semester explaining this to freshpeople, I think my class is (ever-so-slightly) better.
Saturday, June 17, 2006
Last night I was enjoying some mulberries from a neighbor's yard and thought, "I wonder if I could find other ripe berries somewhere." Whether I wanted them to make a pie, or to put on ice cream, or just to eat, I knew I wanted to go berry-pickin'. So I looked online at McCormick's Creek and Brown County State Parks. Unfortunately, both have entrance fees. However, I noticed on the websites that bikers could get in much cheaper. I had no idea whether or not there was a place to park near the, uh, park, but I figured it was worth a shot. Also, noticing that it was supposed to get up above 90 today, I decided to start plenty early.
So at around 8:20/30, I headed out, bike in the backseat, various containers sitting optimistically in my backpack (along with several bottles of water). I reached the park pretty quickly, pulled up to the gate, and was told I could park just up the road. I did so, and rode my bike in, insisting on paying the $2 charge when the guy wasn't going to make me. (You might as well support a good cause.)
I guess I didn't really go in with a plan, so pretty soon I hopped off my bike and got out my trusty map. "Well, trail 9 looks nice," I said to myself. "Too bad it's on the opposite end of this road. Well, heck. It's short. I'll ride there." And so I started to do.
At this point it may be informative to refer to the map above. Since the colors I had originally painted my route in have disappeared into File Incompatibility Land, I will go into a brief elucidation:
1. The X marked "1" is where I entered the park.
2. The X marked "2" is where I intended to go.
3. The X marked "3" is approximately where I saw a sign saying "wrong way."
"Wrong way to what?" I thought to myself. At this point I will mention that between "CCC Shelter" and X number 3 there had been over 400 feet of elevation loss, including one particularly spectacular drop marked:
WARNING: STEEP GRADE
USE EXTREME CAUTION
BIKER [sic] DISMOUNT BEFORE ENTRY
Well, at the time, I had assumed that the biker they were talking to wasn't me, so I'd just gone down with my brakes on almost all the way, thinking, "whoa, this is gonna be bad on the way back up."
So back to the "wrong way." It turned out that this sign was intended for some huge bicycling group that was congregating at the Horsemen's Campground. However, it is probably fairly obvious that I, too, had been going the wrong way.
Hoping to avoid the "STEEP GRADE", I continued around that loop, taking a short hike at Strahl Lake. Unfortunately, while the lake trail did run past some berries, they were nowhere near ripe. Ah well.
Then I got back on the road. Unfortunately, now all the elevation gain was packed between Strahl Lake and Camp Store. There was indeed another WARNING: STEEP GRADE etc. sign (although only at the top of the hill) and one much longer stretch where I was forced to get off the bike and walk up (which was still amazingly difficult), labeled by a sign at the top simply:
HILL
Which was, of course, true enough. I had to admit that. It elicited a short, winded chuckle.
Anyway, I got home before 11:30, which is not bad. Thank goodness this was mostly in the shade: otherwise I would have been toast!
Which is a long way of going about saying, I actually have something worth blogging about, so I'm creating a new blog. Sweet.
One more note: dinner was a salad of mixed greens from the farmer's market, butternut squash also from said market, homemade bread, and fish that had "just" been flown up from Louisiana covered in, among other things, paprika. And this was not just any paprika: it was Hungarian paprika.
Sweet.
So at around 8:20/30, I headed out, bike in the backseat, various containers sitting optimistically in my backpack (along with several bottles of water). I reached the park pretty quickly, pulled up to the gate, and was told I could park just up the road. I did so, and rode my bike in, insisting on paying the $2 charge when the guy wasn't going to make me. (You might as well support a good cause.)
I guess I didn't really go in with a plan, so pretty soon I hopped off my bike and got out my trusty map. "Well, trail 9 looks nice," I said to myself. "Too bad it's on the opposite end of this road. Well, heck. It's short. I'll ride there." And so I started to do.
At this point it may be informative to refer to the map above. Since the colors I had originally painted my route in have disappeared into File Incompatibility Land, I will go into a brief elucidation:
1. The X marked "1" is where I entered the park.
2. The X marked "2" is where I intended to go.
3. The X marked "3" is approximately where I saw a sign saying "wrong way."
"Wrong way to what?" I thought to myself. At this point I will mention that between "CCC Shelter" and X number 3 there had been over 400 feet of elevation loss, including one particularly spectacular drop marked:
WARNING: STEEP GRADE
USE EXTREME CAUTION
BIKER [sic] DISMOUNT BEFORE ENTRY
Well, at the time, I had assumed that the biker they were talking to wasn't me, so I'd just gone down with my brakes on almost all the way, thinking, "whoa, this is gonna be bad on the way back up."
So back to the "wrong way." It turned out that this sign was intended for some huge bicycling group that was congregating at the Horsemen's Campground. However, it is probably fairly obvious that I, too, had been going the wrong way.
Hoping to avoid the "STEEP GRADE", I continued around that loop, taking a short hike at Strahl Lake. Unfortunately, while the lake trail did run past some berries, they were nowhere near ripe. Ah well.
Then I got back on the road. Unfortunately, now all the elevation gain was packed between Strahl Lake and Camp Store. There was indeed another WARNING: STEEP GRADE etc. sign (although only at the top of the hill) and one much longer stretch where I was forced to get off the bike and walk up (which was still amazingly difficult), labeled by a sign at the top simply:
HILL
Which was, of course, true enough. I had to admit that. It elicited a short, winded chuckle.
Anyway, I got home before 11:30, which is not bad. Thank goodness this was mostly in the shade: otherwise I would have been toast!
Which is a long way of going about saying, I actually have something worth blogging about, so I'm creating a new blog. Sweet.
One more note: dinner was a salad of mixed greens from the farmer's market, butternut squash also from said market, homemade bread, and fish that had "just" been flown up from Louisiana covered in, among other things, paprika. And this was not just any paprika: it was Hungarian paprika.
Sweet.
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