A lock of hair locked in its box alone:
Unknown, unseen, unkept beneath the rocks.
A Lock of hair is stroked by water's hands.
In comfort it is kept: the box, the strands.
A lock of hair keeps cool immersed in sands
Of shore, in sands of time, those precious lands.
A lock of hair, rem'niscent of a love
Long gone, but kept alive, unspoken of.
A lock of hair carr'ing meaning far too great
For minds to comprehend. That is our fate.
A lock of hair reminding us of things
We fail to see - of truths that sting, then ring.
A lock of hair: a symbol worth a thought -
A second glance - so that we might be taught.
-Phil
Friday, January 22, 2010
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Ch ch ch ch ch ch ch ch ch ch ch ch ch
It's all about internal rhythm. Especially when it comes to Saint-Saens Organ Symphony No. 3 in C minor, or as my stand partner has re-labeled it, Saint-Saens Organ Symphony No. 8 in O minor. Yep, that's the kinda fun I have in orchestra :P
But speaking seriously, if you've ever heard/played the organ symphony, you know the challenge of bringing all the parts to the same downbeat without hardly any of them actually playing the downbeat. All of the off-beats and strange rhythms can so easily throw any of us off, and if only one person is thrown off the entire orchestra will most likely slowly (or not so slowly) adjust to that one person. Therefore, it's all about the internal beat. Today during orchestra rehearsal, our conductor had us playing all sorts of "games," such as playing our notes on beats 1, 2, 4, and 5 and saying "3" and "6" when we have rests on these beats, all going at a fairly upbeat tempo. He also had the entire orchestra create this "ch ch ch ch ch ch" sound together. At the same time he asked those who have birthdays in certain months to raise there hands, and other similar questions. This caused us to be thinking about something else as we continued the beat. In the end, it's a kind of rub your belly/pat your head exercise. If you think about it, we need to be doing the exact same thing while we're playing. Keep an beat going steadily internally while playing your instrument...it sounds easy but is so, so hard.
Still it's an interesting exercise, and afterwards we did sound better (although far from perfect). Perhaps there are even more ways to expand on this exercise. It's definitely something to ponder...
-Phil
But speaking seriously, if you've ever heard/played the organ symphony, you know the challenge of bringing all the parts to the same downbeat without hardly any of them actually playing the downbeat. All of the off-beats and strange rhythms can so easily throw any of us off, and if only one person is thrown off the entire orchestra will most likely slowly (or not so slowly) adjust to that one person. Therefore, it's all about the internal beat. Today during orchestra rehearsal, our conductor had us playing all sorts of "games," such as playing our notes on beats 1, 2, 4, and 5 and saying "3" and "6" when we have rests on these beats, all going at a fairly upbeat tempo. He also had the entire orchestra create this "ch ch ch ch ch ch" sound together. At the same time he asked those who have birthdays in certain months to raise there hands, and other similar questions. This caused us to be thinking about something else as we continued the beat. In the end, it's a kind of rub your belly/pat your head exercise. If you think about it, we need to be doing the exact same thing while we're playing. Keep an beat going steadily internally while playing your instrument...it sounds easy but is so, so hard.
Still it's an interesting exercise, and afterwards we did sound better (although far from perfect). Perhaps there are even more ways to expand on this exercise. It's definitely something to ponder...
-Phil
Friday, January 15, 2010
Daugherty vs. Golijov
If you haven't heard the music of either Michael Daugherty (modern composer and composition teacher at Michigan State University) or Osvaldo Golijov, then you need to. Now. In my opinion, these are two of the greatest living composers out there, and surprisingly - even though their backgrounds are completely different - they seem to have very similar styles of writing. Both flourish using a strong cultural influence, even though the cultures are very different.
Daugherty, who grew up in Iowa, has a strong jazz background, and often uses American cultural icons as inspiration for his pieces. For example, his best-known work, Metropolis Symphony, is a symphony of 5 movements, each one based on a character from the Superman epic. On the other hand, Osvaldo Golijov grew up in an Eastern European Jewish household. In his later years as a composer, both his religious background and cultural background would have great influences on his music.
Both are very unique composers, yet at the same time share certain qualities. Recently, I played a piece called Strut by Daugherty, and several of my friends whom I had played a piece called Last Round by Golijov, and both they and I recognized the similarities between them. It's a very odd coincidence when two composers with completely different backgrounds who have (probably) never met can sound so similar but they do. Seriously, go look them up. Even if you don't agree with me, I'll still have gotten you to listen to two extremely talented modern composers.
-Phil
Daugherty, who grew up in Iowa, has a strong jazz background, and often uses American cultural icons as inspiration for his pieces. For example, his best-known work, Metropolis Symphony, is a symphony of 5 movements, each one based on a character from the Superman epic. On the other hand, Osvaldo Golijov grew up in an Eastern European Jewish household. In his later years as a composer, both his religious background and cultural background would have great influences on his music.
Both are very unique composers, yet at the same time share certain qualities. Recently, I played a piece called Strut by Daugherty, and several of my friends whom I had played a piece called Last Round by Golijov, and both they and I recognized the similarities between them. It's a very odd coincidence when two composers with completely different backgrounds who have (probably) never met can sound so similar but they do. Seriously, go look them up. Even if you don't agree with me, I'll still have gotten you to listen to two extremely talented modern composers.
-Phil
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Monday, January 11, 2010
Beethoven the Master
You know you just experience a truly amazing performance when three hours afterwards, you suddenly break down in tears for no apparent reason.
This is exactly what happened to me the other night, after I heard a performance of Beethoven's String Quartet No. 15 (Op. 132) by Takacs String Quartet. In my opinion, Takacs is possibly the greatest quartet in the world at this moment. Their elegance, the way they gel to create a truly original and deep string sound that is unmatched, their diversity, the pure and sometimes almost painful emotion they create during a performance; it all comes together to create something that might even be considered spiritual in its quality. Especially when their mastery is combined with the brilliance of Beethoven. Something I am coming to realize is that there are many pieces in the world that can bring tears to your eyes during the actual performance. This is one of the great joys of music: that one can experience all realms of emotion for the length of the piece, and then be on your way. Beethoven, though, is one of the few composers in the world who manages to catch your attention and your soul during the performance, but the full impact of his music refuses to hit you until you are most susceptible to it: sometime after the performance. This is exactly what happened to me. I was doing nothing significant, but suddenly I began feeling an excruciating emotional pain that I was unfamiliar with. Tears filled my eyes and cheeks for reasons I could not understand. Beethoven and performance of his music had left such an impact on me that it took several hours for my mind and soul to consider its full extent and find a way to cope. So much does this encourage my belief in music, and the power therein.
-Phil
This is exactly what happened to me the other night, after I heard a performance of Beethoven's String Quartet No. 15 (Op. 132) by Takacs String Quartet. In my opinion, Takacs is possibly the greatest quartet in the world at this moment. Their elegance, the way they gel to create a truly original and deep string sound that is unmatched, their diversity, the pure and sometimes almost painful emotion they create during a performance; it all comes together to create something that might even be considered spiritual in its quality. Especially when their mastery is combined with the brilliance of Beethoven. Something I am coming to realize is that there are many pieces in the world that can bring tears to your eyes during the actual performance. This is one of the great joys of music: that one can experience all realms of emotion for the length of the piece, and then be on your way. Beethoven, though, is one of the few composers in the world who manages to catch your attention and your soul during the performance, but the full impact of his music refuses to hit you until you are most susceptible to it: sometime after the performance. This is exactly what happened to me. I was doing nothing significant, but suddenly I began feeling an excruciating emotional pain that I was unfamiliar with. Tears filled my eyes and cheeks for reasons I could not understand. Beethoven and performance of his music had left such an impact on me that it took several hours for my mind and soul to consider its full extent and find a way to cope. So much does this encourage my belief in music, and the power therein.
-Phil
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