My friends and I love to quote from this mock commercial for Raisin Brahms. One day while we were yelling "Guten tag!" and marvelling at the power of the arts, we decided we should come up with more composer-themed cereals. Here are the best names we thought of:
Honey Nut Berios Franck-en Berries Honey Bunches of Orff
(Steven) Stucky Charms
Reich Crispies Kellogs Special Cage Cinnamon Toast (George) Crumb
Here are a few I just came up with (maybe not as good):
Apple Janaceks Mahler-O-Meal Zorn Flakes
I know my music nerd readers have some more awesome names up their sleeves. Please share the wealth.
I went to a Wilco concert last week. My introduction to Wilco was fairly odd: the CD player I inherited in my apartment in Japan happened to have a burned copy of A Ghost Is Born inside (although the CD only had "Wilco" written on it; I only figured out which album it was last week). So I listened to it and LOVED IT. I hadn't really thought much about Wilco until a few weeks ago when I was invited to the concert. So I went and I LOVED IT. The lead guitarist was quite entertaining. He kept talking about his very painful ingrown fingernail and the wonders of baby Orajel.
I have to get used to people without formal musical training not being able to understand what I do. My roommate and I were talking about studying music, and I told her that sometimes I worry that I'm not doing anything IMPORTANT, I'm not doing something that can help people. Her response was, "Well, music is entertaining, and it's good that you can understand something that people love... I wish I could have learned to play violin." A couple of things about her statement bothered me. First, she doesn't understand (nor do I expect her to understand) what I am doing with music. Her idea of studying music is learning an instrument and playing music in an orchestra. My idea of studying music is reading articles, understanding theoretical concepts, being able to apply an analytic method to a composition, being able to articulate the function of harmony in a piece. Second, sometimes I am worried that I am wasting my time by working in a field that is, in large part, a form of entertainment. Then I got to thinking: even in the poorest cultures, people make music. Music isn't just something that is done for fun. Music isn't simply a luxury that people in richer countries have. Music is something else-- maybe a way to cope, a way to create community, a release of stress or pressure, a symbol of something higher, I don't know. I am drawn to that power that music has-- everyone, in every culture, does music, and I want to know why.
*********************** I can't let go of the past. It has been at least three years since I have even seen him, and still I find myself thinking about and remembering something from that relationship about once a week. Now they are having a baby. That hurts, for some reason. I still feel like that is my life they are living, she is living. I feel like my place was stolen, taken from me-- that I was replaced. I know that I am a different person now and he is a different person now. I know that it was better for me to leave that relationship and take the path that I took. But still I have this nagging feeling that I missed out on something. I wonder if he thinks of me like I think of him. I wonder if she is a better kisser than me. I wonder what they'll name their kids. I wonder if their inside jokes are as funny as ours were. I don't know how I can resolve this inside myself. I feel like I never got some bit of needed closure and now I'm suffering because of it. Sometimes I think that if I could just talk to him now and see that he hasn't changed, then I will be satisfied that I made the right choice. But what if he changed into a person I could love unconditionally, that I could be with forever? What if he was my soul mate, and I just wasn't patient? That thought terrifies me.
*********************** I have been in this town for about four months and I still feel sort of lonely. I'm just not close to people here like I was close to people at NWC or in Japan. Chi-chan is in Fukuoka, Lis and Becky are in Chicago, Aubrey is in Minneapolis, and my family is in Des Moines. And I am here. In an apartment with two roommates I rarely talk to. In an apartment complex full of noisy college co-eds. I have friends here, but no one I feel like I could cry to or randomly hug. I wish I was closer to people who are close to me. I wish the people I am close to were closer to me.
********************** I really think I might end up in Asia for a large chunk of my life. It's such a fascinating part of the world. I don't think I'd ever get tired of living in China or Japan. I really want to go back overseas, to either country. I want to see my friends in Japan again. I want to go back to the laidback lifestyle and awesome food of Southern China. This isn't to say that the US is boring; I just feel drawn to the Far East. I don't know why.
I think I have finally found a way to marry all my various passions: East Asia (specifically, China and Japan), ethnomusicology, learning languages, music theory, and traveling. I'm thinking about doing some sort of comparative study of Chinese and Japanese music: how Japanese culture has borrowed from the Chinese music tradition, how various folk styles are similar and/or different in the two countries, what impact a pictorial language has on music-making, etc. I'm going to graduate from my current program with a master's in music theory and a minor field area of ethnomusicology. The next step might be a doctorate in ethnomusicology. I don't know. But I'm excited about all these possibilities.
I have noticed recently that there are little cliques scattered throughout the music school. My perception of these cliques is as a theory major, but probably other theory majors have slightly different perceptions than I. Still, from listening to my fellow theorists talk about other music majors, I've developed a social schema:
The Theory Majors: Nerdy, bookish, spend lots of time in the library, music know-it-alls. We generally have really good ears and get easily annoyed with "bad" music. We get along with musicologists and composers pretty well. We despise most voice majors.
The Musicologists: Even nerdier than the theorists. Spend almost all of their time in the library. Tend to be fairly socially awkward. They know tons of esoteric facts about which composers had syphillis and in what year a certain symphony was performed. They tend to talk less about the actual music and more about what cathedral the piece was performed in or who was having an affair at the time or if a certain manuscript was really written in 1648.
The Voice Majors: The dumb blondes of the music school. They're not usually good with theory or history of music. They generally can't sightread well, and they resent having to take classes that don't focus on vocal music. They don't know how to talk about music intellectually, though that doesn't stop them from attempting to contribute to class discussion.
The Composition Majors: The cool guys, the artists. Maybe a bit socially awkward, but somehow that works to their advantage. Usually great at theory. They know the craziest, coolest, up-and-coming music. They seem to get along with everybody.
There are other groups at the music school I could expound on (bassists, trumpets, education majors), but these are the groups I tend to have the most contact with. And, of course, there are people who are in the above groups who are not representative of the stereotypes. There are also--believe it or not--very intelligent voice majors in the music school.
Lately I've been on a big Bjork kick (Bjork is a musician from Iceland, probably most famous for wearing the swan dress to the Oscars some years ago). I was listening to the song "Hyper-ballad" this morning. I usually just enjoy the sound of the music as it washes over me, and start singing along at the chorus without really thinking about it. However, for the first time today, payed closer attention to the lyrics:
We live on a mountain Right at the top There's a beautiful view From the top of the mountain Every morning I walk towards the edge And throw little things off Like: Car parts, bottles and cutlery Or whatever I find lying around
It's become a habit A way To start the day
I go through all this Before you wake up So I can feel happier To be safe up here with you
It's early morning No one is awake I'm back at my cliff Still throwing things off I listen to the sounds they make On their way down I follow with my eyes 'til they crash Imagine what my body would sound like Slamming against those rocks
When it lands Will my eyes Be closed or open?
I haven't decided if these lyrics are poetic genius or just insanity, but either way, they sound hilarious when sung in Bjork's quirky, breathless style.
Last Wednesday I performed Stravinsky's Requiem Canticles. Last Friday I went to a concert of "the scariest organ music ever written" in a concert called Pipes Spooktacular. Last Sunday I heard Tombeau de Couperin at a student conducting recital. Yesterday I went to an orchestra concert and heard excerpts from Prokofiev's Romeo and Juliet. This weekend I'm going to the New Music Ensemble concert. I go to about two concerts a week. This is my favorite part of life in grad school. My least favorite parts include, but are not limited to, grading stacks of music theory homework, paying what feels like a bazillion bills, and reading boring musicology articles about 15th century motets.
For those NWC alums who knew some of the great conductors there, you are certainly familiar with the sort of metaphors and similies I wrote about in a recent post. I am so happy to discover that conductors everywhere make similar comparisons in a misguided attempt to help the performers. To wit:
"Cut the sound like you are cutting... a tube... of cheesecake."
It was clear that my conductor was desperately searching for the right words. In the end, she couldn't find them, and the singers got a good chuckle.
I spend all of my academic time on music. All of it. When I'm not listening to a mozart piano sonata or a motet by Guillaume DuFay, I'm analyzing a Brahms intermezzo or correcting music theory homework. Granted, I'm studying very diverse aspects of music at the same time (analysis of music from the Classical/Romantic era, pre-Baroque motets, and analysis of post-tonal music after 1900). However, I'm not studying English literature. I'm not studying math. I'm not learning a language. I'm not in a science class. I am exclusively in the music department. I don't even know where other departments are on campus. All my friends are music majors.
Since lately I've been spending so much time learning a lot of stuff about one subject, I've been feeling a bit... pigeonholed. Even within the music department I feel pigeonholed. I want to learn about anatomy and Japanese and American history and British literature and anthropology, but my degree doesn't allow for that sort of diversification. I only have room for music theory classes, with the exception of two classes in an "outside field," and usually people just choose another area of music. What if I want to be a Jane-of-all-trades? What if I don't want to end up an expert in music theory but no nothing about choral conducting or jazz or French poetry?
I know I can't know everything, but is it wrong to want to know a little about a lot of things?
Musicians (more specifically, theorists and musicologists) love to make comparisons between music and things in daily life. Often these metaphors are very effective; other times, they are downright hilarious. Here is a sampling of the little things I've heard in music classes that have made me chuckle, if not outright guffaw (WARNING: those of my readers who are not musicians may not think any of the following are funny):
"Figured bass is like shopping at Target: it's an exercise in consumption, not production." (heard in a remedial music theory course)
"Polyphony is a disease of chant like life is a disease of matter: the disease does things that the host did not intend." (heard in a course on the history of the motet)
"Cut the sound like a warm knife cutting butter. The sound is the butter, and your cutoff is the knife. Don't spread the butter." (heard in choir practice)
Lots of Western music is popular in Japan, and since I've been here I've noticed that a particular few bands are extremely well-known throughout the country. Here's a list I've compiled (in no particular order):
Bands/Musicians:
ABBA
The Carpenters
The Beatles
Avril Lavigne
Hillary Duff
Stevie Wonder
Celine Dion
Michael Jackson
Beyonce
Mariah Carey
Madonna
Cyndi Lauper
Songs:
Country Road-- John Denver
My Heart Will Go On-- Celine Dion
Bad Day-- Daniel Powter
All I Want For Christmas Is You-- Mariah Carey
We Are the World-- Michael Jackson and Lionel Richie
I come home from school this evening and immediately I see that I have mail. I dig around and discover that one of the two items is a large envelope (the other is my electric bill. It was depressingly high). The return address is from Indiana University. Well, a big envelope is a good sign, I think. If it were a rejection notice, it'd be a small envelope. I throw the envelope on my kitchen table and start to put my groceries away, thinking I could wait to tear into the envelope like a bear in heat until after I did some chores. I underestimated my own excitement, however. I started talking to myself. Out loud. In my apartment. In a sing-songy voice. "It's a big en-velooope. It's from Indiaaaaaanaaaaa. That's gooooood neeeeews. Probably good neeeeeeews." I finally finish putting away the cold groceries and rip open the envelope. My eye catches only certain phrases: "pleased to inform you," "reccommended for admission, "offered admission for 2008," congratulations." I go berzerk. Jumping up and down, singing and shouting, hands in the air, euphoria. I know where I will be when I go back to the U.S. I have a place. I have a clear path. I will live in Indiana. I will study music theory. These things are certain now. I am happy.
It's funny-- I applied to four graduate schools, and only once interviewed and accepted me. Is this a sign? Did God clearly mark the path for me? I like to think so. It gives me some hope that He's watching out for me.
Taiko is a traditional Japanese drum. Shown below are many different sizes of taiko being played by a group from nearby Akiyoshidai. They came to perform for whoever showed up at Baiko a few weeks ago. It was a small crowd, which was sad because it was AWESOME to watch. A couple of the players really got into it, like the girl below (standing, middle):In one piece two drummers got into a sort of drumwar, banging on each other's drums and teasing each other: After the concert the group invited the audience up to try banging on the drums. Then the group leader taught us a few rhythm patterns. It was quite fun, and educational. And very, very loud.
Thank you, readers, for all your wonderful comments and encouragement and advice. I never expected that one rant would receive such feedback.
The day after I received my rejection letter from Eastman, I had a webcam interview with Indiana at a local church. I had to play piano for them to show my mad piano skills (haha. That's a funny joke, see, because I don't really have mad piano skills) and analyze a piano piece, so I set up the webcam in front of the piano. I wasn't really as worried about the actual interview as all the technology working, but it went off without too many problems. The call dropped a few times during the interview, but we were able to re-establish a connection quickly enough.
So we talked about why I want to study music theory, and why I chose Indiana, and if I had any questions, etc. Then I sight-sang a few melodies (nearly flawlessly, thank you very much) and sight-read the piano piece (not flawlessly at all, but not too badly either). Then they asked me to analyze the piece, and I did that. Then they asked me to deduce, from the style of the piece, when it was written and the possible composer. And I NAILED it!! I NAILED it!! I got the right era, the right composer, I analyzed it well, I did AWESOME!!! And I could tell the interviewers were impressed. Then they played some intervals and chords on the piano and I told them what I heard and they were impressed with how well I did on that, too. Actually, one of the dudes asked if I had absolute pitch (I can tell exactly what pitch is being played upon hearing it, like I can tell the difference between an A and a B flat with my ears), so I told them about how professors in my past have disagreed about it and that I think it comes and goes, but it was awesome that they recognized that I have really good ears (because I do).
Overall I feel like the interview went very well, probably the best that it could possibly go. I'm trying not to get my hopes up, because it is possible that they don't have room for me or that another candidate is more highly qualified or something. But the experience did confirm to me that I am, indeed, AWESOME at music theory and that I love it. So that was really good. Really, really good. I probably won't find out if I got in or not until March or something. The head honcho interviewer couldn't give me a solid time, but he said he'd email me directly as soon as he knew. And when I know, you all will know, too.
I have been rejected by three of the four graduate schools I applied for. I have an interview with the fourth school tomorrow morning. I am terrified that during the interview I will seem desperate for them to accept me and they'll get weirded out. The truth is, though: I am desperate. This interview is the last chance for my plans to work out the way I want them to work out. I don't know what I'll do with myself if I don't go to grad school next fall.
I was talking to Simba (or are you Nala? I can't remember) about this on chat this morning. Teachers and professors and guidance counselors and parents push us to make a solid future plan. Everything has to be planned out far in advance, and if we don't have a plan, we're seen as irresponsible or unfocused. Well, what if we're not irresponsible-- what if life decided to dump on us and we're left with no choice but to drift for awhile? I'm worried that, if my fourth school says they don't want me, I will be a drifter . I like having my life planned out. I like knowing I will have a place and a purpose for a few years. I want that security. Not having it is giving me an ulcer. All I know now is that my future is in the hands of the people who will listen to me butcher a piano sight reading excerpt tomorrow.
In junior high school a few of my friends and I had an unhealthy obsession with Weird Al Yankovic. We thought his music was so hilarious and we'd memorize his songs and sing them on the playground. In high school I decided that Weird Al was stupid, but since I saw the video for his current single, "White and Nerdy," I have once again come to love Weird Al. What's not to love about him? He took an already stupid rap and made it awesomely funny by making about how a nerd. I watched his biography on VH1 once-- apparently he has a degree in architecture! And he really does play the accordion! Man, I want him to be my friend. So cool.
I have fallen in love with Regina Spektor. I saw her music video "Fidelity" on VH1 the other day and was intruiged, so I looked up her website and found some clips of other songs to listen to. I love her! I think of the New York indie-songstress as a sort of Norah Jones on acid. Her velvety, intense voice mixes with some of the most uniquely-written piano music to create some great alternative pop-jazz-folk--stuff I've heard since Coldplay or Keane. So good. I just may have to buy a new CD.
Name: Ruthie Home: Japan About Me: I want to know who God is and what his truth is. I love getting lost in beautiful music and cloudless star-filled skies, especially in the fall. I hate being bored. I like big cities. I want to travel the world. read more
Name: Ruthie