|
[08 Nov 2009|07:11pm] |
We did indeed go get stuff. Spatulas, oven mitts, vitamins, and a glue mousetrap I put it down about an hour ago when we got back. I figured since I'd seen the mouse running along one side of the apartment under the counters and along the couch wall, I'd put it right next to the couch.
Just now I looked at it, and it had disappeared. What?
I picked up the couch and there it was underneath with a mouse on it, scrabbling away with his free front feet. I didn't really want to squish him or chop his head off, so I put him in a paper Whole Foods bag and took it down to the dumpster across the street and set it on its side, so when he gets off the glue (they inevitably do), he can go dumpster diving.
|
|
|
[08 Nov 2009|03:49pm] |
Mama came to stay till Wednesday and see my concert tomorrow, so she's been chatting up a storm with both roommates. Brent is well-disposed to talk about growing up on a farm, and Tony of course is always ready to discuss matters of vocal health and development.
We may go get some things that have been on a list forever to get, now that the boys have gone to their respective gigs. I really do need a spatula, and not just because I like the word. And oven mitts. And probably a mousetrap, though I wish I could just catch the little dude and put him in a box.
|
|
|
[07 Nov 2009|12:59pm] |
It is a good day that starts with a Brenty head poked in my open door to say good morning as I read Herriot in bed.
And then there was a roommate pile and a roundhouse butt-kicking competition and Chanticleer doing McGlynn.
I shall embark upon train adventur as a means of meeting mama at the airport. All shall be grand.
|
|
|
[06 Nov 2009|04:11pm] |
Odd that my post from yesterday didn't show, but it basically said nothing to report. Lesson was good, we even sang a little at the end. People on the street (though not the Jordan doorkeeper, who is a fan) continue to condescend solicitously about my shoelessness and its potential to attract disease. There's also a positive comment nearly every day from a denizen of the street about my hair. One guy today stopped in his tracks on the way past me to stare and exclaim how much he liked it, and he wasn't one I would've pegged.
Robin has a gig this evening that apparently has belly dancers in it, which sounds interesting to me. It starts late, so hopefully I'll hear something from her before then.
|
|
|
[03 Nov 2009|02:56pm] |
Farmaisi chakradar? I think I wrote one. In Tintal.
>-----------------
S rm P dn |dn P - m |P m g r |Sr mP mg r |
-<>---------------<>-----------------<
S Sr mP mg |r S Sr mp|mg r S S |rm P dn dn|
>-----------------<>--------------
P - m P |m g r Sr|mP mg r S |Sr mp mg r |
-<>--------------<
S Sr mp mg |r S S rm|P dn dn P |- m P m |
>---------------<>---------------<>-------------<
g r Sr mP |mg r S Sr| mp mg r S |Sr mp mg r | S
Hopefully Peter Row will agree.
|
|
|
[02 Nov 2009|10:10pm] |
There is finally a production assignment resultant from my Coleman lesson. I must create an object canalizing my interest in harmonic complexity with the ideas I've absorbed from the array of monophonic approaches to multiple planes I've been listening to. And also incorporate the idea of timbre as a variable element and potential building block.
And in Ear Training we played the bass line and sang the melody of Ugly Beauty. I was slightly perturbed when after my turn he started the line of playful compliments that results in emphasizing my classical education (which amounts to a hole in jazz education). He even brought up the von Otter rock record, which I don't know but I'm sure is pitifully operatic, and I don't want to be that. My Monk sounded like an art song because that's what I know how to sing and I don't know the original. Nor much about the entire tradition. Oh, well. I didn't get too defensive.
Tiny teenaged trumpet in our ensemble this evening had an improv piece he'd written and it was excellent fun.
I have to write a farmaisi chakradar before class tomorrow, but it is dark and nightly and I think I will do it in the morning. I may just give up on the evening and go to bed now. I tickled Tony pretty exhaustively when he called me in to show me some of the Chambers music, so now he's beat and I'm indifferent to the night so I might as well use it for sleeping.
|
|
|
[01 Nov 2009|09:26pm] |
Today has been a day of mighty procrastination. I didn't even feel like doing the things I'd thought I might do for fun. I read half a book and played on the internet and, once or twice like pulling motivational teeth I listened to and wrote down responses to music Coleman told me to respond to.
I haven't even gotten dressed today. Brent asked me if I would stay home with him as he pulled his own motivational teeth practicing (it makes him desperately unhappy to practice classical music and he ends up improvising awesome overtones or counterpoint with himself that has nothing to do with what he's working on half the time). I told him I had rigid plans not to go anywhere at all.
As it's the first, and Tony arrived home last night, we took turns resisting the thought of taking the rent checks to the landlord downstairs, who will talk your ear off for an hour about Jesus and life if you don't forcibly remove yourself. As Brent left for rehearsal and I did it last time, Tony bit the bullet and hoped for a reprieve in length of engagement since he was obviously dressed to be on his way somewhere else (namely, the gym). 45 minutes later he calls me from outside the front door on his actual way to the gym to tell me they've lowered the rent back to what it was before I moved in, because we're nice people and they like nice people. It's not that much less, but it's still good news.
I really must do something today. Or I'll have to do it all in the middle of the week, and I'd prefer to be sleeping at night.
Speaking of which, now that we've Fallen Back, it is now deepest night outside at 6pm. It's vaguely disturbing. I am alarmed by the prospect of winter here, where it will be dark practically all the time. I look to candles for the salvation of my psychological well-being.
Not that I dislike the dark; it's just different. And I associate dark time with not-doing-anything time, where you can sleep or play and not do work. That could be unfortunate. Starting with today.
|
|
|
[01 Nov 2009|09:36am] |
Look, it's an hour! To sleep in! I slept.
Good thing, too, because I was sleepy. I don't know why short road trips and day-long spectation-based activities exhaust me so, but they always do. I didn't even walk around as much as I would in a normal school day, but there were episodes of drowsing even on the car ride home.
( Then again, it was a full day. )
|
|
|
[31 Oct 2009|08:25am] |
|
Happy All Hallows', guys. I'm off to catch the T to Alewife (which sounds appropriately medieval) to get picked up by Lady Eowyn, the Quire director, for a ride to the Crown Tourney of Quintavia. Brent's plans fell through, so he'll be around all day, but he won't come with me because apparently he needs to be in town... I'll regale him this evening with stories of Court and Feast.
|
|
|
[30 Oct 2009|07:49pm] |
World rocked. And then Robin came to the apartment with me to get a cookie because Dominique's class was canceled and Robin gave me the molasses to make cookies with. We ended up trading some music and talking, which was cool. She toured with Jethro Tull, by the way, after auditioning not knowing who they were. I KNOW, WHAT.
I ate many cookies and ruminated about tomorrow. I have garb all set, I printed out some name and device submission sheets so maybe finally I can be registered, and I fixed the bag I want to carry feast gear in. There will be lunch but not dinner; what shall I make tonight that I can bring with me tomorrow?
|
|
|
[29 Oct 2009|10:20pm] |
It had been mentioned at some point that this concert was going to be focused on Anthony's work with Jelly Roll Morton, but I'd forgotten till I got the program. Aside from a couple highly specific and stylized songs on the Ain't Misbehavin' soundtrack, I hadn't heard real stride in a very long time. Probably since my dad played it. And he could be a read stride pianist. Anthony's playing Jelly Roll pulled some triggers I didn't know I had. His pieces were interspersed among the Morton sets, and the first half ended with a bass/drums/piano trio that rocked hard with Eastern-European rhythms and a set of variations on an ostinato, and I hadn't heard a jazz trio rocking out in conscious memory.
The piece we were in was first on the second half, and it went as well as if not better than it did in any rehearsal. And a girl saw me leaving after the concert and complimented me on the job I did; I don't know if that's bad because I stuck out (it's a thoroughly ensemble piece) or if she just recognized me because of my hair as someone who had been onstage.
The last piece on the concert was Anthony playing and singing a Rodgers&Hart tune called "It Never Entered My Mind". He was crying, and of course the concert was dedicated to his girlfriend who just lost her fight with cancer, so everyone else was crying, too. All of the emotion possible was directed into the performance. It was that way throughout most of the concert, too, and not just with him.
They're going for a post-concert night out in Chinatown, but I'm drained. And World starts early tomorrow morning.
|
|
|
[29 Oct 2009|07:39pm] |
I just had a Jellicle Ball moment. Danced with no forethought as hard as I could all over the kitchen, to Rufus's Go Or Go Ahead as loud as I could make it, no lights but my pillar candle. I haven't had a time like that since the last time we turned Cats up as high as it would go and gyrated Jellicly around the backyard in ears and tails, preceding our yearly howl. Guys, there should be something like this once in awhile at least. One of the most satisfying things ever to be done. Burn down the music with your brain. Then eat a fudge popsicle. Or watch a few seconds of beautiful colors. I must be a sensual hedonist.
Now, off I go to appear in a piece in Anthony Coleman's concert.
|
|
|
[29 Oct 2009|01:43pm] |
You know what's really good? Cottage cheese and apple butter. Cherries work in there too, but I already ate all of Tony's.
I am back from an adventure in Chinatown, where there was a cloth store that had heavy black corduroy (green too) for me to get in absurd yardage to make pants out of. And a cloak for this weekend, because I have no cold-weather garb and I bet it will be cold. There was a cat in the cloth store, possibly more than one. A small child and a middle-aged lady both told me they liked my tail (the little girl liked my hair, too). The lady who cut the cloth for me was very helpful and directed me to things I could line corduroy with. So now I have a big black rectangle of corduroy that looks rather elegant when I wrap it around myself, and is indeed decently warm.
I may or may not have a concert tonight. I think I do; Coleman decided at the last minute not to cancel a piano gig he had and put his NEC ensemble on it, too. We rehearsed his piece on Monday, and now I think this is the Thursday of the dress and concert. It's a cool piece, with very few and very specific notes in it.
|
|
|
[28 Oct 2009|09:22pm] |
|
Dominique asked me to write down the changes for Faure's Après un Rêve. It's amazing how much it resembles a 30's jazz chart. It iz SO PRITY. Maybe I will sing it as a jazz song.
|
|
|
[28 Oct 2009|02:13pm] |
|
Okay, guys, it turns out I'm really damn smart. Or so our class's resident Kiwi (no slouch himself) called after me to declaim as I was leaving once class was over. All I did was summarize the views of the article and challenge a couple of them, and I even made a dumb and obvious mistake with the labeling of the rhyme scheme, but it's nice to know that sometimes other people feel overwhelmed when one of us is much more prepared than everyone else. I have that feeling fairly often in class, and then I get mad at myself because my standards are too low; no particularly stunning discourse is arrayed, we're just trying to make sense of some medieval music, but too often nobody read the background material closely enough (or at all) and therefore obvious statements look like revelations.
|
|
|
[28 Oct 2009|11:41am] |
Everyone is sick so Dominique's rehearsal was canceled this morning, which is just as well, because I'm supposed to lead discussion on Machaut 3 in Motet class today and I am rarely so authoritative on a subject that I am comfortable leading a verbal discussion of it.
Last night's Film Noir rehearsal was oddly productive, considering that Aaron the teacher was at a doctor's appointment for the first hour. We got everything rehearsed except for one piece (which I was in), and even had some of the guests who aren't in the ensemble do their scenes.
Tony left this morning for Houston. Not sure why, but I hope he has fun at home. He won't be back for a week. Brent and I will have wild, wild parties and make a terrible mess, I'm sure :)
Machaaaauuuuut motet 3 is lovely and apparently a mirror of Love and Death. Naturally. These are the middle ages. I want to read a lot of books (fiction and not, particularly Umberto Eco) on the subject of how different medieval people were from us psychologically, but instead I must explain examples of this difference in psychology in a piece of set poetry.
|
|
|
[26 Oct 2009|10:09pm] |
Lo I am returned from my first interaction with the denizens of this Carolingia which I now inhabit. I went to the Quire rehearsal (cute, huh?) at MIT (known as the borough of Mitgaard). It's very basic, but, as I've come to expect from scadians in Stargate (and all of Ansteorra that I've been to), thoroughly friendly, shy, awkward, and accepting. I felt like a well-groomed, suave, limitlessly self-confident rock star in comparison. I wonder what it is about the Society that induces so much hesitance and difficulty with interpersonal interaction? Or maybe it's a case of likes attracting in the society.
I have nothing against nerds or geeks, as I enthusiastically include myself in both categories. These guys, however, seemed to expect to be kicked. I'm certainly not the best conversationalist, but I felt like I was expected to take charge every second. Maybe an influence from my training as a performer? Do I project confidence when I am feeling musically competent no matter the social situation? I certainly did feel musically competent. There were a few rounds with verses of lyrics on the opposite side of the page from the notes, which on a first reading as one does, I had to choose either notes or words (usually it was most advantageous for me to help out with notes), but otherwise nothing was even vaguely difficult.
In any case, I've been in touch with the Chatelaine, the Baron's Clerk of the Stables (ride coordinator), and the Baron himself, and now I have plans for Halloween. The Crown Tournament (of the East Kingdom, I assume) is on Saturday in the Shire of Quintavia (Spencer, which is apparently an hour and a half away). The Quire director has offered me a ride. There'll be a tournament (naturally), Court, day board (lunch), and an Arts&Sciences display, which is always fun. There's a feast in the evening too, but preregistration ended a week ago, so I'll just bring dinner. It should be awesomely awkward. I'll overcome it, since I'm immune to awkwardness anyway, and become Stephanesquely charming and eloquent, as well as musically skilled. Or, I could be wrong, I could be the wilting wallflower in the company of a multitude of knowledgeable and enthusiastic specialists who can teach me all about life in the East Kingdom.
|
|
|
[25 Oct 2009|04:11pm] |
The addendum to the fun of yesterday was that Liz actually stayed awhile after driving us back. And by awhile, I mean till 2am. We were going to sing things, but I got distracted by tea and listening to everything ever that is awesome. She seemed particularly moved by the Barber Reincarnations and my two favorite movements of Rach Vespers.
Tony had church in the morning, so Brent and Liz and I retreated to have more aural revelry in my room, and candles were had, and Brent got me to finally paint an Eye of Horus on his eye, which looks quite good, and the music and company and piling were excellent. I did not get up early.
I took so many pictures yesterday, so that I could remember all the things that I always go to renfairs and see and think "I could make a better one, I won't buy that". Instead today I am making trees, because it takes a long time with constant attention to transfer pictures from my phone to the computer. So it is tree time. And some TV.
|
|
|
[25 Oct 2009|01:09pm] |
Werll.
King Richard's Faire was almost exacly like TRF, except slightly smaller and with pine needles everywhere, and not sweltering. And the hawkers defaulted from pseudo-RP or Cockney to New England twangs rather than drawls when you startled them by responding like a human being.
Also, I've never arrived before the gates of TRF opened, so I don't know if they do a little show like this one. It was very silly and cute, involving the King and the princess who likes the son of the Transylvanian delegation of Von Willendorf or Von Wolfenstauens or something that has come from outside the gates to visit (I only remember his first set of names, Justin Timberwolf, and yes, of course, they played all over pop culture with everything they had. The Transylvanians turned out to be vampires).
Once we were in, there were all kinds of things to find (I had even written down the highlights of the schedule from the website). To summarize: a decent piper, wenching songs, Bite Me: A Vampire Musical composed of re-gifted pop songs with cleverly altered lyrics, the joust (naturally, we went to both, the one to the death at the end), and, oddly enough, rather than the falconry show they have at TRF, there was a big cat show.
They had an adult and baby Bengal, a 10-month and 3-month royal white, an adolescent white lion, and the biggest cat in the world (he just got into Guinness), a 900-lb liger named Hercules. They were all on leashes rather than behind bars, and they got milk for walking around onstage. None of them looked bored or distressed, and apparently during the week they get to walk around the fairgrounds and see stuff, which is sure more interesting and bigger than life in a zoo. Of course I went again. It's easy to move me to monetary donations to big cats, and hey, they had a perigrine falcon and an owl to take pictures with, so now I have a picture of me in garb with an owl the size of my torso sitting on my forearm.
Speaking of money, I dropped a hot pocketful on this outing. Some on presents for me (blue-purple-glaze tiny pottery lamp! $80 bracers that I said I couldn't spend more than $50 on and then they let me have them for that! a beautiful tail I probably will never take off!), some on presents for other people, but also a bit on performers. The fire-eating juggler was both impressive and hot (in all senses of the word), so I left a couple bucks in his hat. The Nature of Mercy swordfighting duo was a Captain of the watch recruiting little kids as his lieutenants against the Evil Italian Duke, and their patter was not stale, and their combat routine was not bad. Even the second time. And the good guy was charming and solid and redheaded, so I threw a five at him. Well, not threw. I put it in his hat.
All in all, a lovely time. The final revelry in the evening after the joust to the death was enthusiastic, if musically hit-or-miss, and Tony and I have decided it would be a fun gig to have next year.
|
|
| navigation |
| [ |
viewing |
| |
most recent entries |
] |
| [ |
go |
| |
earlier |
] |
|
|
|
|