We've been dealing with some unfortunate and annoying situations lately, but a birthday is a good time to focus on the positive.  So here are some good things that are going on in our lives!

For one, we have a new camera!  All the better to capture birthday celebrations with.  We had a carrot cake (Bakker tradition) with white mountain icing (Chenette tradition), with glorious results:

We've also been taking cat pictures, as usual.  The cats have been particularly cute lately, sleeping on the couch together and helping Sara work on her dissertation.

Right when we got the camera, we took a walk down our street just to try it out on different subjects.  We're pretty happy with it.

In addition--and I had to end with this one--Sara continues to be pregnant!  I can't believe I haven't announced it here until now.  (In fact, that's part of the reason I've taken so long off from blogging.)  We're due May 20, and we can't wait!

In grading student papers, there are two words that baffle me.

One is "feel."  Somehow, students think that anything about music's temporal structure can be described as its "feel."  For example, there are pieces with a "triple feel" or a "compound feel," or with a "fast feel."  Of course, what they mean is "triple meter," or "compound meter," or "fast tempo."  To me, "feel" in this case sounds like you're saying, "I listened to it once or twice, and it kinda felt this way," rather than, "I looked at the score and thought about the way the meter is articulated, and it's this."  But usually the students have analyzed the piece pretty well, so I don't know why they choose the non-technical term that I've never used in class over the technical one that we use all the time.

The other is "stagnant."  For some reason, anything in music that has no sense of motion is "stagnant."  To me, stagnant music not only doesn't move, but it's slightly rancid and probably a little smelly.  But for some reason, students pass over the perfectly fine word "static," or perhaps even a subtler, clearer description, to use "stagnant," even when they mean it in a good way.  Thus we get "stagnant harmonies," "stagnant rhythms," "stagnant melodies," etc., in music that (as far as I can tell) doesn't even have mold growing on it yet.

What's really baffling to me is the extent to which these words are used.  I think I've seen both of them every single time I've graded a group of papers over the past couple of years, both at Indiana and at UMass.  It makes me wonder if there's some cultural source for one of these words.  I can come up with one for "feel," which might just come out of a general culture where the ultimate compliment is to be called "totally laid back" rather than "knowledgable," but stagnant still doesn't make sense.

I've decided to stop even marking these words unless I've specifically said something about them in class before the paper is due.  If I want them to avoid these words in the future, I'll take the responsibility myself!

Dad and Mom, have you ever run up against these words in student work?  Claire, do you use these words to describe music?  Nate and Heather, are there odd words that students use in your fields?

It's getting to the point in the semester where the annoying parts of classes start wearing on you.  I'm really ready to start next semester!  (Well, actually I'm ready for break, and *then* next semester.)

Part of this is wanting to start over myself--I feel there are mistakes I've made in my own teaching, and that a clean start will help me to address them (or not have to deal with them anymore).  Most of these are problems related to teaching each class for the first time, and I'm pretty sure they'll be better the next time through.

But some of it is also looking forward to dealing with new students!  I'm kind of shocked how much of my time currently is spent dealing with students who have failed to do something, usually come to class (on time, or at all) or, especially, turn an assignment in on time.  Each individual exception or grading-late-with-a-penalty is no big deal, but as a group they really consume a person!  Honestly, the attitude towards attendance seems a lot better here than at IU (at least in aural skills), but the attitude towards late work is much worse.  I'm ready to start over, and try new policies discouraging late work...

And finally, it'll be fun to teach new things!

This is the passage that sticks out to me when I am reading Vicentino's 1555 Ancient Music Adapted to Modern Practice and shortly after teaching 20th century music:

"All the same, I notice that nowadays some singers and musicians, who believe themselves knowledgeable, show their amazement to everyone whenever they encounter a novelty in musical signs that has been introduced for the sake of some sort of consonance.  Straightway they begin by saying, 'It is not good, it is not easy to sing,' and conclude that 'it will not endure,' citing the example of past composers to prove that if the practice in question were good those composers would have used it.  Thus do these singers and musicians betray to all that they have forgotten how to study their profession."
(Maniates translation, 37)

Here's a great sympathy quote from Zarlino [1556] for anyone writing a dissertation:

"...everyone, inasmuch as he is human, may be mistaken in his opinion.  And let us remember what Horace writes in the Epistle of Ars poetica:

Verum opere in longo obrepere somnum.
[Truly in a long work it is natural for sleep to creep up.]

This could be an excellent excuse for this most serious author, and also for everyone else who writes at great length."

Massachusetts, or at least our area, seems to have some weird garbage-related traditions. For example, garbage and recycling collection in Amherst isn't run by the city--each citizen must contract with a private company. That's just one example.

Here are two more. First, apparently people here have realized that dogs are much less wonderful to have around than cats, and are disposing of their unwanted pets, at least judging from a sign in Look Park:

And second, I knew this was a cultured community, but I had no idea there would be enough instrument turnaround to warrant this:

Snow day number 1! What a weird weekend. We spent Thursday through Sunday at the annual conference of the Society for Music Theory in Minneapolis. That's always a little surreal: several days in another city, living in a hotel and eating mostly from restaurants, pretending for a few days that the world revolves around music theory. Then you come back home to normal life and go right back to teaching. Except that this time we came back to a snow-covered landscape after what a guy from Western Massachusetts Electric Co. called "the largest and most destructive storm in our history" (which as I recall goes back to the 1800s). The destruction wasn't so much from the volume of snow as from the fact that it was wet, and fell on many trees with leaves still on them, so there are trees down all over and very few people have power. We slept with coats and hats on, and I'm posting now from my office on campus to avoid our 38-degree house. Needless to say, classes were cancelled today. Though the campus is mostly clear and has power, they might not clear the roads and restore power to the area soon enough for us to go back to the classroom tomorrow. We'll see... Nate and Claire, I don't even want to hear what the weather's like where you are.

As you may or may not know, I've had my problems with AT&T's internet service back in Indiana. Renewing my service for the first time, I had to talk to three people, each of whom required some holding time to get to, took the last 4 digits of my SSN, and tried to sell me the same upgrades. Later on, I found they offered faster service for cheaper than they were charging me, which was weird, and though they agreed to switch me to that, they ended up not doing so for several billing cycles and until I called them twice about it.

So this is why I'm surprised that Verizon has made AT&T look good.

First, nobody offers service at AT&T's price here, even at half the speed we had in Indiana. So we signed up for slow service from Verizon. But then the strike hit, and they had to cancel our installation. That's understandable, but we needed internet, so we signed up for Comcast. I tried calling to cancel several times: several times an automated system hung up on me because they could only deal with certain kinds of issues; then finally when I got a person, she had to transfer me to someone else, so I was disconnected again and gave up.

Then, about a week ago, I started getting about 4 calls a day saying that our installation appointment was coming up. This is more than a month after our ideal installation date, so I tried calling again. I had the exact same conversation with the machine ("Her") three times before giving up:

Her: What is the person's last name?

Me: Chenette.

Her: Okay, let's try this. You can say the person's last name, and then spell the first 3 letters.

Me: Chenette. C-H-E.

Her: What's the person's first name? You can say, "I don't know."

Me: Timothy.

Her: I only have one record of that name in Amherst, Massachusetts: [undecipherable, clearly not my name]. Is that the person you're calling about?

Me: No.

Her: You're calling about service in Amherst, Massachusetts, right?

Me: Yes.

Her: What is the person's last name?

Finally, I replied to an email that was supposed to let me "reschedule," requesting that they cancel the service. A few days ago I got a very apologetic call from a representative, saying she'd put a note on my record.

Then, today, I got an email with the subject "Verizon High Speed Internet Service Not Available":

I realize this isn't really a terrible story--we've had internet access most of the time we've been here, and there are many other things to worry about. But there was something comically, perfectly incompetent about the timing of that email that made me have to share!

Wow, it's been a while! Things have been going well in Amherst. I'm happy with my teaching overall, though I still need to work on how I want to handle/conduct my Aural Skills course. In a way it's the easiest course to teach in terms of workload, but at the same time it requires a lot of thinking on one's feet and knowing what will help students. My last couple of semesters teaching aural skills were a few years ago, and they didn't go very well (a combination of early morning, disinterested students, and some curriculum experimentation), so I think I lack the necessary confidence to feel good about it right now. I'll be observing a few other aural skills classes in the next week and seeing what I can do to feel better about it.

At the same time, we've been taking advantage of any extra time to get outside and do fun things. There are literally trails leading away from our back yard into a conservation area, which is one of my favorite places in the area so far: there are a surprising number of trails, all of which are quite pretty and very well maintained (and almost always deserted, except for the main trail, which has runners and dog walkers in the mornings and evenings).

We've also checked out a few of the bike trails. It's pretty easy to get from our place to the Norwottuck bike trail, which has become known as the "pizza ride" because it's easy to get off the trail and to Hillside Pizza, our new favorite restaurant. But the trail itself is lovely--it parallels busy route 9, but feels miles away, and on hot days it also feels noticeably cooler than the surroundings. (That's not so helpful anymore.) And it leads over a gorgeous railroad bridge over the Connecticut River, and into Northampton, where one can take several further trails all the way through Northampton or South to Easthampton.

(Brief side note: I haven't figured out the deal with town names around here. I know Northampton and Easthampton, as well as far-off Southampton and Westhampton, are quite separate towns, as are Hadley and South Hadley (though Hadley is mostly a bunch of farms and strip malls), but I don't know about North Amherst, Amherst Center, South Amherst, and Amherst. Nor do I know if "East Amherst," which I've seen written, really exists or is just a description, or why Mt. Holyoke College is in South Hadley rather than the (further South) Holyoke, or why all of these towns are seemingly in a great big jumble. And I am truly baffled why a community with such a transient (college/university) population refuses, as a matter of policy, to install a single street sign on any major road to confirm that, yes, you are on (say) Russell St., or why all roads longer than 3 blocks change names several times, requiring street signs to say things like "Cherry Ln to Jennifer St. to Grantwood Blvd." and requiring drivers to realize that a street called "Sunderland Rd" in Amherst is probably called "Amherst Rd" in Sunderland.)

Yesterday we took our new bike rack (above--thanks Mom and Dad!) on the car to Northampton and tried one of those trails, heading South, and then back East, before turning back around. It was a very pleasant ride. We took a little "nature trail" at the end of the bike trail in hopes of reaching a promised "overlook," which I assumed would be soaring cliff over the beautiful oxbow in the Connecticut River. It turned out to be a slight (20 foot?) rise over a small, swampy tributary of the oxbow, obscured by lots of trees. I had to strike a heroic pose to make up for the lameness of the overlook itself:

Seriously, it's probably a nice overlook for birdwatchers, but they could have warned us.

There's much more to tell, but this is enough for now. Amherst has been a great place to live so far, and we hear the most beautiful time of year is only weeks away!

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!

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.

As of today, all four varieties of tomato in our garden are changing color! We may only have two weeks left here, but they should be two very delicious weeks!

I probably won't be posting much till after we move (Aug. 14-15), but expect some pictures and updates afterwards...

I had no idea squash plants were evil creatures bent on taking over the world!



But I guess that shows how little I know. These squash plants are probably around 10 feet long, and when I tried to rearrange them this morning, I found that they were encroaching upon the road, most of the way through the next community garden plot (which fortunately is also one we're taking care of), and even climbing almost all the way down into the 6 or so foot creekbed behind.

There are even a few beautiful little squashies that might be big enough to harvest by the time we have to move:



And tons of tomatoes, growing in bunches like grapes on the vine (and starting to turn red):



And a few little peppers:



Plus tons of green beans every couple of days. Just a few things to be excited about before we leave!

I got a job offer last week, and took it.

Looking ahead to leaving Bloomington, I suddenly see very clearly the many wonderful things here, and how deeply I have become involved in certain aspects of this community over the past 6 years. There are of course the university and our colleagues, but there's much more as well: going to church this morning, I realized that I was going to have to say farewell to the church where we got married (and the pastor who married us) and where I was able to help with the winter homeless shelter. Then there are our immediate surroundings--our house, imperfect but comfortable; the garden(s), where we'll miss what look to be bumper crops of squash and fall raspberries; and the neighborhood that we've gone on so many walks through. There are also the broader benefits of living here: proximity to my grandparents, wonderful state parks and forests, an unbeatable (I'm pretty convinced that term should be used literally) concert schedule, and even cheap flights out of Indianapolis.

Several things will make moving easier. First, the knowledge that we'd have to in a year anyway. Also the little unfortunate things here: perhaps I won't find such a thoughtful pastor where we're moving, but at least the services are probably less ridiculously long, and perhaps we'll have to downgrade to a smaller apartment or longer commute, but at least the kitchen floor probably won't give me splinters or be almost impossible to sweep.

So we'll move to Amherst, MA sometime in August, and I start my one-year contract at UMass September 6. The salary dwarfs our combined income here, Sara will be able to work on her dissertation full time, and I'll get to teach some really fun-looking classes and get some great experience. We're also told that the 5 colleges area is beautiful, and it sounds like there are more interesting shops and things to do than perhaps one can find in Indiana. And hey, it's a kind of homecoming for me: I was born in Boston a little over 28 years ago. I didn't get to live there long then--but now I get my chance!

Here are those panoramic pictures, presented with minimal text interference. I reduced the file size to get them uploaded more easily, so you can't zoom in very much, but they'll give you the idea!

First, a view on our backpacking trip in Zion National Park:



Some views of Bryce "Canyon":





And a view of the nearby Red Canyon:

We're back!

The garden had rabbit damage when we returned, which initially I was very upset about. The rabbit ate all of our backyard garden's beets, spinach, and peppers, and a few of our peas, leeks, lettuce, and tomatoes, and a kind of flea beetle has been munching on our eggplants. Since then I've been coming to terms with this. It helps that our community garden plot has some incredible-looking beets and a few surviving peppers. In addition, the beans and squash in the plot are incredibly happy. But the high point is this:



This is the image of perfection.

I imagine Nate's blog is going to take care of the trip report, as his pictures always do the best at capturing scenery and scope. But f I can figure out how, I'll share a few of the panoramic photos I stitched together. Hopefully soon...

In a few days, we leave for a Chenette vacation camping in Utah. Upon our return, we'll almost immediately leave for Canada to celebrate Oma and Opa Bakker's 60th anniversary. This will be a period of changes!

Even by the time we get back from Utah, I imagine our garden will be pretty different. The lettuce may have gone to seed and gotten bitter from this incredible heat; the arugula, spinach, and herbs will certainly run to seed. There probably won't be too many strawberries left. But the the peas should still be going, the raspberries should be in full swing, and we might even be able to harvest a few early beets when we get back from Canada. And if they keep growing as they have been the past week, the squash plants will be huge!

My summer schedule will also have changed. The day after we get back from Canada, I start teaching 90 minutes 5 days a week. I absolutely cannot wait to teach this class again, because I love the music so much, but I have been relishing the past two weeks. I've been teaching myself more web design and coding skills (CSS and HTML5, currently working on Javascript), doing a lot of weeding, and making (I think) some real progress on dissertation-related research. I'm not sure how much of that will be able to continue. But a few raspberries would make up for a lot....

It's hard to believe that it was ever this cold in Bloomington:



It's getting up to 93 today, and above 90 most of the week. At least our plants like the sun! (Especially after last week's tornadoes...) We've been eating giant salads every day. This one has some beet "greens" added:



And by the time we return from our upcoming camping trip to Utah, we should have a surfeit of raspberries (on the right):