Michael Nobbs podcast

Michael Nobbs has just published his first podcast. I really like his drawings, and it is fascinating to hear his thoughts about drawing and why he started in the first place. Listen here.

Another quote

I must be on a roll...

I found this one from Mary Oliver over at Kat's Paws today:

I keep a notebook with me all the time - and I scribble.... You begin to get your felt reaction in a phrase, perhaps. But, you know, I've said before that the angel doesn't sit on your shoulder unless the pencil's in your hand. ... And in truth that [is only] given after years of desiring it, being open to it, and walking toward it.

I think "the pencil's in your hand" could easily be replaced by "you're at your instrument" for musicians :)

Not that I'm feeling lonely, myself...

... I just like this quote...

Classical music as event?

I've been enjoying a couple of lovely (and very chilly) days in the country. I hope you all had a good Easter break as well :)

To fill in the time until I have something original to write, I will point you in the direction of this post by Greg Sandow, who has some interesting things to say about music performance as an event...

Finally, from Sanja Petrovic came something quiet and lovely. Sanja, a pianist, said she’d been involved in a performance of Chopin nocturnes. Several pianists were involved. (Sanja, I hope I’m remembering this exactly right!) The concert began at 11 PM. The space was darkened. Candles were lit. Can you imagine a more beautiful—or more suitable—setting for the nocturnes? No need for program notes. No need to explain who Chopin was, or what a nocturne is, or what kind of unexpected modulations might occur in measure 32. No need, God help us, for any education (the very notion of which, I think, is killing classical music, but more on that in another post). The setting of the concert clarified anything that anyone would need to know. I wish I’d been there.

Bubble Baths!

I don't have a bath at my current place. Most of the time I don't mind not having a bath - I'm generally a shower type person - but sometimes it would be nice to run a hot bath with mountains of fluffy bubbles.

Back in 2003, the last time I lived in a place with a bath, I used to like eating ice-cream in the bath. It is a fantastic sensation - warm on the outside, but coldness slipping down the throat. Ice-cold vodka works well too!

Sometimes I wish...

...that weekends were longer
...that I could time travel
...that I knew what people really thought of me
...that my food magically cooked itself
...that humans would eventually figure out how not to kill each other

Bog People

I had forgotten how much they freak me out. I read Jessica's post over at looktouch just now, where she mentions some poems about bog people. I couldn't even click on the link. There is something about these preserved bodies that I cannot bear to look at.

I tried google to find a page about bog people, so I could link for you guys, but I don't even want to open any of the pages. I am scared to see pictures of these poor people preserved like leather.

My first encounter with the bog people was when I was maybe 12 years old. I think I saw part of a documentary about them at my grandparents' place. My mother had a book about them, and showed it to me, by way of further research. At first I was fascinated, and I read the little paperback book from cover to cover. Slowly, however, the horror grew, and before long I couldn't look at the pictures any more. They were black and white, in this little book, grainy pictures of unnaturally preserved human sacrifices from centuries ago. My young skin was soft and pink, and these people's skin was hard and dark - skin which should have decomposed long ago.

They were squashed from the weight of the bog above them. I remember the Tollund Man's face looking askew, flattened, unnatural. It was all leathery, hard, dark. Their stomachs still held the remains of their last meals, and the hanging noose circled their necks. Why were they killed? One girl's hair lay in a halo around her head. Who was she? What colour was her hair before she lay in the bog for centuries?

They had strange names, derived from the places they were found - Tollund Man, Elling Woman. They should be dead, left to rot, their bones to slowly melt into the earth. Instead, they are frozen in limbo, denied rest, their bodies remain. Now they lie in a museum for all to see.

These strange bodies from centuries ago - these are the one thing that strikes terror in me. I cannot look at them. I don't know exactly why.

Decisions, decisions

I need to be more decisive... I think.

I want to make quick, snap decisions about things... mostly.

It would be good to make decisions faster, to know where I was headed, to be one of those people who are sure about things... but sometimes it's good to ponder for a while, to weigh up both sides of the argument, not to jump to conclusions...

Oh, now I don't know whether I want to be more decisive or not!

How to Drink Enough Water

I am feeling slightly dehydrated today. I am conscious of the fact that I have not been drinking enough water lately, and now I am feeling lethargic and headachy. This may or may not have anything to do with dehydration, but it does seem to happen to me when I haven't kept up my water intake.

So it was fitting for me to find a post today on Lifehacker linking to the WikiHow article How to Drink More Water Everyday. This article has some good suggestions for maintianing good water consumption, but by far the best way I have found so far is to fill a 2 litre jug full of water every morning, and have that sitting on my desk with a glass. It is so easy to just sip away throughout the day, and before I know it I've drunk my 2 litres before 5pm. I don't mind drinking water - but if it is a hassle to go to the filter or the tap, and find a glass, and then wash it up... well, I will just not drink it then. If I make it easy for myself - the jug and glass are sitting there next to my computer - then I have no problem.

This is an interesting article about how much water we should be consuming every day, for any one who is interested.

Here's to happy hydration! Cheers!

Last night's train journey

I am sitting on the train with the beginnings of a headache. To the west, behind the clouds the sky is pale blue with deep magenta slashes through it. The reflections of the city lights in the train windows are superimposed on the last remnants of the sunset.

The train is starting to fill with passengers, eager to get home to dinner and the evening's television programs. They read books, newspapers, office documents. Each is sitting in their own bubble of personal space, their own island of discontent.

The season is changing. There is a chill in the air now, at night. Brown leaves are starting to appear on the ground, but strangely the trees are still outwardly verdant.

We are out of the city loop now - out of the noisy, cuving, concrete tunnels. The train sways on its journey along the tracks, stopping at all the little inner city stations: West Richmond, North Richmond, Collingwood, Victoria Park. It is too late for the express trains now - the fast bustling trains ferrying anxious commuters to and from their tall office blocks in the CBD. No, this is a lazy train, taking its time as it winds its way to the leafy north-eastern suburbs.

I miss living in the inner city. I miss being able to jump on and off trams, and walking home once the trams had stopped running at midnight. I miss the convenience of short distances and milk bars on corners.

This train journey is a new thing in my life - a different type of time. It is an in-between time, a time that is not nothing, but is not really something either.

What do people do on trains? Do they do different things from normal? Do they think different thoughts? Would the man sitting opposite me really read The Amulet of Samarkand if he were somewhere else? Would the man on the other side of the carriage read MX if he were at home? Would I be writing this if I were not on the train?

I Hope You Do!

I Hope You Do!
Author Unknown

I hope you woke up this morning with a big smile on your face
I hope the sun is shining just for you
and the birds are singing their very best songs...

I hope your coffee is hot and tastes just right
and the cats are purring contentedly, and the mailman waves a
cheery hello and there are no bills in the mailbox...

I hope just everything goes your way ...
I hope everything is well with your world,
a place for everything and everything in it's place...

I hope you can enjoy all you do and you are
complimented on the way
you look and you can laugh
and talk and share to your heart's content

I hope you have all you wish for yourself and those dear to you,
and all your dreams come true...

At the end of the day
I wish you a perfect moon shining just for you,
a snug and cozy bed with the softest of pillows
and I hope you sleep like a lamb with a smile on your face...

I hope you have a perfect end to the perfect day
and I hope that every day is just as wonderful in it's own way
I hope your day is ... filled with love!

From Inspiration Peak

Love is the path to true fearlessness

This is a great post about falling in love by Rhonda Britten. I especially liked this paragraph:

Love is the path to true fearlessness. Without a willingness to be vulnerable (that is one way to love myself) and the courage to express all of me (that too is loving myself), I will never know who I could be, who I really am.

I can identify with this

This is a postcard that I have stuck on my office door.

Treehouses!

I want one of these treehouses! Imagine a whole forest of trees with glowing suspended magic lantern treehouses joined by a delicate tracery of hanging walkways...

How to be an Expert

If I ever needed a kick in the pants to put in the hours of practice, it is now. I am painfully aware of the (seemingly massive) gap between what I want to do with music and where I am now. I have the desire, but do I have the dedication?

I found this post - How to be an Expert - at Creating Passionate Users today, and it is exactly what I needed to read. It has served as a reminder that it is possible, but I really need to knuckle down. I need to dedicate and commit myself fully. It's certainly not going to be quick and easy.

...The only thing standing between you-as-amateur and you-as-expert is dedication...

(via Watermark)

Shame, Fear and Performance

Last night, in class, we had an interesting discussion about the nature of performance, and the importance of being 'present' duing performance. One of the ideas that came up was about the difference between shame and fear, which are both feelings/emotions that can adversely affect performance. This was something I had not thought about in this way before. Shame is felt about something that happened in the past, whereas fear is worrying about something that may happen in the future. Neither of them are about the present moment, although if we allow ourselves to become involved with either, it can have a significant effect on the present. Being successful in performance involves being free of the past and the future, shame and fear, and focussing on the reality of the here and now. Of course, this is always much easier to say than to do!

Book Review: Authenticity in Music

At only 78 pages, this slim volume is not in the least bit intimidating, yet manages to explore in some detail the philosophy of authenticity in (mainly) Baroque music. Raymond Leppard, whose academic and performing credits are extensive, including a 14-year stint as the Music Director of the Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra, begins by illustrating the differences in approach to music reception or listening between today's globalized post-modern western society compared to the 19th and early 20th centuries' ideals of progress and improvement on the past. This is no more than a potted history, and is somewhat generalised, but is nonetheless a useful and I think necessary backdrop to a discussion about historical performance in today's world. I am not sure about his hypothesis that the atomic bomb was the big turning point where western culture abandoned the idea of progress in favour of the search for something deeper and more profound. Has this really led to the rise in popularity of early (Renaissance and Baroque) music, as a response to this search for purity and balance in a chaotic world? It's a nice theory, but I think it is perhaps a little too convenient. But then again, he only has a handful of pages for this development, and is certainly not pretending that he is presenting an in-depth exploration of the subject.

The second part of the book is a discussion and explanation of Leppard's own approach to interpreting and performing early music. He is not addressing the finicky little details of ornamentation and phrasing, but rather the general attitude and approach. He outlines the problems the musician has to grapple with: the incompleteness of the repertoire, inconsistent and often ambiguous notation, and great variation in advice regarding technique and interpretation, even in original sources. He points out the fact, simple but often overlooked, that, no matter how hard we try we can never replicate exactly the sound of the past. Even if we play Bach from Bach's manuscript on Bach's harpsichord in Bach's house using Bach's tuning system, we will still be playing and listening with ears and minds who have heard Mahler, Shoenberg and Franz Ferdinand.

The only way forward, Leppard concludes, is to find a middle ground between the pedantic pursuit of authentic purity and the communication with modern audiences. A compromise is needed, he writes, combining the knowledge about the past gained from academic study with a creative understanding of the spirit of music, and a focus on communication with the listener.

This book was very easy and enjoyable to read, and would hold interest for both listeners and performers. Leppard's style is conversational yet nuanced, and he includes musical examples to illustrate his points. I would have liked some suggestion for further reading, rather than the very brief notes at the end. Overall, though, I found this an interesting, thought-provoking book.

Shedding a whole new light on coffee

OK, so I can be a bit of a coffee freak. I do feel for anyone who tries to have a conversation with me before my first coffee of the day - it can really get ugly sometimes. But my coffee obsession is a passing interest compared to this guy.

Not all high-brow

I don't want this blog to be too pretentious, so in the spirit of light-heartedness, this made me laugh today :)
(via kottke.org)

Religion

I went to a workshop given by the amazing pianist and composer Andy Milne this afternoon. He played a few pieces and spoke a lot about the jazz scene in New York, which is so far removed from the tiny insular scene here - it sounds like another world. He said a lot of really interesting things, but what sticks in my mind is a little anecdote he told.

He was catching a cab somewhere, and the cab driver asked if he was Muslim. He replied that he wasn't, and the cab driver asked him what religion he was. Andy replied that music was his religion. The cab driver said that music wasn't a real religion, but Andy reasoned that music fills his life like a religion. It is with him every waking moment, and he relates all life experience to music in some way. After that there was silence in the cab for the rest of the journey, as they both pondered this. Andy said today that he should have tipped the driver for prompting him to come to this realisation.