Long time no see

Wow it has been a really long time since I've posted anything. I should change this.

Post.

Yay all better :)

-Phil

Arvo Part

I was recently watching an interview with modern composer Arvo Part (which can be found here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2pDjT1UNT3s) which really struck me with some new ideas. Lately I've been listening to a lot of very dense, complex music such as Beethoven and Brahms, filled with extreme counterpoint and thick harmonizations. I love this music! The activity that it creates is phenomenal and, in my opinion, shows how brilliant composers like them are. I have been realizing more and more, though, that there is an opposite, yet equally astonishing kind of music, that shows the simpler side of tonality. Composers such as Arvo Part believe that the purity of a single tone is enough to create beautiful music. While Brahms can sometimes have an extraordinary number of lines going at the same time, such as a bass, a moving underlying line, and melody, a countermelody, a harmony, etc. etc.; the majority of Arvo Part's music only ever has 2 lines at once. In his own words, he says that he likes to think of one line representing sins, and the other representing forgiveness; one line being more busy and moving, the other very simple and still. This kind of music does not force brain activity like a Beethoven symphony or a Brahms sextet does, but it produces emotions just as easily, and some might even argue more-so (though that might be going too far).

Arvo Part isn't the only one who composes in such a manner. Many of the modern minimalist composers have the idea that a simple line of tones, or row of basic repeated chords can create just as much emotional impact as a complicated counterpoint can. Philip Glass uses gradually changing chord progressions to create his music. These progressions are often repeated multiple times (calm down music theorists, it really is okay!) until they are only slightly changed to eventually progress the music. (His set of Metamorphoses is a very good example of this. My personal favorite is Metamorphosis 2:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CcyTyLqkvoU).

I do find the difference between complicated and simplicity very interesting in music. It's fun to explore the difference in playing, listening, and even writing in both styles and also trying to find in-between areas that work well. I encourage anyone who might have any interest in doing the same to...well...do the same! :)

Phil

Carnegie Hall

So I did it. I performed in Carnegie Hall

Let me break it down into a timeline:

May 27 - the string quartet I'm in flies out along with our coach to Boston, MA for the semi-finals of of ICMEC (International chamber Music Ensemble Competition) at Boston University. Rehearsal for 1.5 hrs that night after arrival.

May 28 - travel to BU fine arts building and rehearse for 2-3 hrs with breaks. Audition in a small studio with an audience of 3 judges. That night our coach receives the call that we made it to the finals in New York on the following Monday, and we will be playing the 1st movement of Mendelssohn Quartet Op. 80. CELEBRATE!

May 29 - sleep in. rehearse 3 hrs straight in the afternoon, followed by more celebration in Boston.

May 30 - Leave on a bus for New York City. Once we are settled in, we have an hour of rehearsal time in the hotel.

May 31 - Dress rehearsal in Weill Hall at the Carnegie building. Lose camera, don't get pictures of hall :(. Another hour of rehearsal back at the hotel afterwards. Find camera. Get dressed. Go to Carnegie Hall. Freak out. Perform in Weill Hall.

We performed in a concert with 8 other groups. We ended up not placing in the top 3, but being there alone with amazing musicians from across the world was an epic win from my viewpoint. I mean, seriously, the gold prize was a professional group from Turkey. O_o

Anyway, I just had to get on here and say how awesome it was, and how thankful I am that I got to have that experience. The stage was amazing, and thinking about all the performances that had taken place there before me is a really awesome feeling.

-Phil

The Subtleties of Music

Music is a living thing. It breathes in silences. It eats and drinks the sounds that give it substance. It communicates with whatever audience might be willing to listen to it. Notes flow through phrases and into lines like blood flows through veins.

Although this might be an extreme way to look at music, it can be helpful in order to understand the subtleties of music. I've noticed lately how difficult it is for some musicians to understand the difference between a rest in the music and a breath, or between a moving of the phrase and a crescendo or an accelerando. But there is no denying the differences. For example, many musicians may have heard their teachers talk about the front and back ends of the beat. When one plays on the front end of the beat, you aren't necessarily speeding up the tempo, you are simply creating an idea of restlessness and movement in the music. Similarly, when you play on the back part of the beat, you aren't slowing down the tempo, but instead creating a downward, lagging feeling in the music.

Another, more complicated example would be creating a phrase going to a certain point. The minute a teacher says to not let the phrase die, many students will simply get faster and get louder in order to achieve the effect. Unfortunately, this ends up sounding exaggerated and overdone. Instead, it would be better to keep a more sustained sound that keeps one note going to the next without a break in the phrase. As far as dynamics are concerned, many musicians have a tendency to not keep any swings that flow with the phrase within the dynamic written in the music. It is possible to have a variance without leaving that dynamic level, it simply has to be more subtle.

One final thing that often causes confusion is the term "breath." When we breathe during a phrase, sometimes we mistake this as a break, or a stop. But really, the term "breath" should be meant as more of a comma than a period, comparing a phrase to a sentence. The ringing of the sound should never stop, and neither should the motion of the bow (at least for string players), otherwise it will sound like the phrase itself dies, when the purpose of the breath is to make more sense of a long phrase.

Even though I'm talking all about how little things like pushing a phrase or breathing should be taken as more of subtleties than actual changes to the music, there are times when exaggeration is necessary. Music is not an always or never business, and sometimes exaggeration helps the phrase. But not always. I've noticed this in my own playing lately (the very reason why I'm writing this post): I tend to exaggerate EVERYTHING, when really I don't need to. It comes across as overbearing to the audience. This is something I think every musician (especially myself) struggles with at some point, if not all the time, and it helps to be aware of it.

-Phil

Forgive my terrible singing... Purple Eyes

Lyrics:
Yesterday was a beautiful day
All the skies were so white and grey
We were laughin' at the breeze
And hiding our eyes under the trees.

All the clouds covered up the sky.
Looked at you, saw your purple eye.
You were dancing in the rain
Washing away all the pain.

- Purple Eyes -

When the sun came out again
All the birds started singing amen.
Grass grew tall and the roots grew deep
And all the rain began to seep.

Drop of water rolling down your cheek
Not from rain this one is so unique.
Purple eyes shedding tears of blue
You look so sad, so I am too.

- Purple Eyes -

When the wind blows through your hair
I see a vision of the mountain air.
Snowflakes fall on your face so pure
And all I feel, is so unsure.

What is this myst'ry about you I see?
One look from you and I feel so free.
Purple eyes gazing back my way
As if to say, "come and play."

-Purple Eyes -

-Phil

Far - Another Music Video

Lyrics:

I'll take my home
And fly away.
Leavin' this place
I don't get to stay.
I don't wanna stay.

Keepin' my heart
You can have the rest.
Leavin' this town
Gonna head out west.
I don't wanna stay.

'Cause I'm here, alive
And screamin'.
And I feel like I
Am dreamin'.
And I find myself surrounded
In a world far beyond.

So I'll find a place
To settle down,
Or wander aimlessley
All around.
I don't wanna stay.

I'll hold my own
Wherever I go.
I'll follow the stream,
I'll follow the flow.
I don't wanna stay.

Cause I'm here, alive
And screamin'.
And I feel like I
Am dreamin'.
And I find myself surrounded
In a world far beyond.

Somehow I'll make it
In the end.
I'll pull my way
Through every bend.
I don't wanna stay.

The future's bleak
But I am strong.
The past is not
Where I belong.
I don't wanna stay.

But still I'll miss
Those who said goodbye.
I'll turn my back
And heave a sigh.
I don't wanna go.

Cause I'm here, alive
And screamin'.
And I feel like I
Am dreamin'.
And I find myself surrounded
In a world far beyond.

-Phil

My New Song on VID! yay :)

Performance

So every once in a while, you get to play a concert that's somehow becomes really personal. You get completely into the music...completely involved in what's going on throughout the phrase. I've only had a very few performances like this. One was at a tiny week-long music camp in Arkansas about 4 years ago. I don't even remember the piece we played, but I remember the story our conductor, Mr. Wadalo, told us about it. The piece was written as a memorial for the American soldiers who died during WWI. Mr. Wadalo, though, had his own story that he wanted to dedicate the piece to, at least for this performance. About 2 weeks before the camp, he told us, his lifetime best friend died. At the performance, he explained the whole WWI reference of the piece, but just before we began, he whispered to the orchestra "...and for [so-and-so]" (I don't remember the man's name). I'm pretty sure in that instant about half the orchestra started weeping at the sadness of the very first note of the piece, and by the end the other half joined in with tears. It was one of the most beautiful performances I've ever been a part of.

Another instance happened at another music camp, this one a 10-day camp, under the director David Barg, a man I have a great deal of respect for. For ten days we worked tiredly tirelessly on Barber Adagio for Strings and the slow movement of Mahler Symphony no. 10, both incredible works for string orchestra. Again, the performance was one of the most emotional experiences I've ever had. Mr. Barg has a strong ability to bring out an incredible amount of musicality in young musicians, and that's what he did with those two pieces. I doubt there was a dry eye in the building.

My list includes a few more stories similar to these. Some acted more as very personal performances, some were important landmarks in my life. Still, every performance gives you something new. I don't exactly how to describe it. It gives you some new insight into life. It lets you introduce yourself - not just your name and how you play - it lets you introduce who you really are to the world, or at least a small part of it. That's something hard to explain, and hard to compare to.

The reason I'm writing all of this is because I had a performance today with my quartet. We played for about an hour. Our big piece was Mendelssohn Op. 80 Quartet (I've talked about it in previous posts). It went extremely well, and honestly it seemed like one of those amazing performances where you become indescribably a part of the music. Especially on the beautiful third movement...by the end I was nearly in tears. Some might say that's embarrassing, but honestly, if you've ever felt moisture in your eyes at the end of some spectacularly beautiful piece that rings through the hall as you wait for every ounce of emotion to pass before you let go....it's not embarrassing. It's passion.

-Phil

I wrote a song!

So I wrote my very first song today! It's kinda lame, not very creative, but still it's a start. Maybe next time I'll do a little better. Anyway I thought I would post the lyrics for now. Maybe I'll make a video of me singing it with piano soon (even though I'm a terrible singer). For now:

Verse I: I remember a day
When all was young
I remember a time
When you, to me, sung.

I remember a hill
That grew tall in time.
I remember a cliff
That you let me climb.

Don't let go.

Verse II: I remember the truth
That you taught to me.
I remember the lie
That you let me see.

I remember the heart
That was broke that night.
I remember the soul
That was hurt in the fight.

Don't let go.

Verse III: I remember the pain
When it caught on fire.
I remember the hurt
When I lost desire.

I remember the burn
When my heart turned to dust.
I remember the ache
When pride turned to lust.

Don't let go.

Verse I: I remember a day
When all was young
I remember a time
When you, to me, sung.

I remember a hill
That grew tall in time.
I remember a cliff
That you let me climb.

-Phil

Awesome night pictures

So I tried taking a few night shots of this tree, and although I couldn't get it to look like it did in real life, I still really like how it turned out. Here are the three that I took:

Composing

So I'm something of a composer. Or at least, I like to think that I am. Nothing I've written thus far has been anything extraordinary, spectacular, or even all that original. But still, I try, and I'm only 16, and you're technically a young composer until you're 40, so I think I got some time! :)

Still, I'm constantly looking for ways to improve my composing. I always want to make the piece I'm writing better than the last one I wrote. For example, the last really big thing I wrote was a symphony (yay for writing a symphony when I was 14 and 15!). Basically, the 1st and last movements of the symphony sucked. I mean, I think I changed keys maybe once in each 8-minute movement, which I must say make for a pretty boring piece. The 2nd movement was actually decent (my school orchestra conductor/my sometimes-composition-teacher liked it enough to have our orchestra play it), although still I always have things to improve. Since then I've written a few shorter pieces, one for string orchestra, one for a 2 violin/2 cello quartet, and the beginnings of a few others. In each, my main goal has been to increase the amount of times I change keys. I need to modulate more in order to keep the piece interesting and to effectively evolve the personality of the piece, and it really does help a lot.

What I really wanted to talk about is how people perform young composers' works, though. This winter break, I got to take a trip to Virginia to visit several friends of mine from music camp this last summer. Before we met, we decided that the two of us who are interested in composition would try to write pieces that we could learn and then perform for whoever would listen throughout the week. As a result, I wrote that aforementioned piece for 2 violins and 2 cellos. My friend wrote a piece too. Well...most of a piece anyway. lol

As we worked on the pieces I realized something: I really hate playing my own music. I'm constantly seeing all the things I don't like about it, and can never think of ways I could make it better. Because of this, I've realized I don't really take my own compositions seriously. What was refreshing throughout that week, though, was that they tried to play it as musically and beautifully as they possibly could. It was as if my music was taking on a whole new form. Them taking the music so seriously made it sound better...I really don't know how, but it did. For that, I'm thankful to them. They gave me something of a confidence-boost. I've had other friends read some of my works before, but they seemed to only do it reluctantly. Maybe one or two of them would try to truly make it sound good, but the entire ensemble just never worked because they weren't trying as they might if it was, say, Mendelssohn or Beethoven. Of course, my music isn't even comparable to Mendelssohn or Beethoven, but what I've realized is that if anyone tries to play it as such, it takes on a new shape that wasn't there before. It's nice. I've heard my music played a few times both ways, and the difference is extremely evident.

Now I don't mean to sound like I'm complaining. I appreciate anyone who is willing to take 10 minutes out of their day just to read some amateur piece that I never really liked that much anyway. But what I do want to say is that anyone who is reading a piece by young or amateur composers should try to play it as seriously as possible. If they don't, it disappoints the composer, not by the way the piece was played, but by the way he/she wrote it.

And to leave you with a quote: "A composer is a guy who goes around forcing his will on unsuspecting air molecules, often with the assistance of unsuspecting musicians." -Frank Zappa

-Phil

New Pics Part 2

A few more pics unrelated to the assignment, plus one more instrument design try.

-Phil

New Pics Part 1

An assortment of pictures I took for a school assignment. Still deciding which ones to use, and still need to take a few more, but here's the best that I have thus far. :)

-Phil

Pictures from the Park

In My Rest

My head finds rest among
The blankets wrapped in silver lining.
My eyes are still,
And out of nothing see the shadows dancing.

Upon this mount
My body feels the warmth of comfort.
The world goes silent
And leads me out of violence.

My hands and feet are lifeless,
No grasp is left within my fist,
No step beneath my feet,
Yet still I feel a something in my midst.

It moves and sways,
It speaks to me in blurs,
And yet I see so clear.
I see the smile, I feel the tear.

I feel the wind
Flow through my breathless hair.
I feel the grass and stone
In hands and feet, that still lay prone.

These shapes - so real -
And yet somehow surreal
In that their clarity is stained
By something unexplained.

What something could it be
That brings upon the dancing shadows,
The dark light,
The colored white?

And even, may I ask,
What proof is there?
How do I know?
How can I, upon these things, swear?

The myster is great.
I cannot say I see these things,
And yet, I do.
I know the thoughts they bring.

So still I lay my head
Upon the mount so sweet.
And in my rest, I live.
In my rest, I am complete.

-Phil

Thoughts

Alone among the thoughts that loll inside,
That cling to feelings and all things within
My mind.
The words that I can't speak are stuck in reach,
And still I find the need to let myself
Unwind.
In life I see the past and wish for more.
Instead, I only see the future, soon
Behind.
The world looks unto me - at least that's how
It seems sometimes; and answers are my goal
To find.
The darkness creeps upon my mind in thought,
And hides my sanity and muse so that
I'm blind.
But sometimes - only sometimes - my head is
Clear, and everything becomes so bright. Thoughts
Refined.

-Phil

Where Horses Roam

In mists of sounds and smells I sit alone
Perhaps alone, at least.
Though still I hear the distant, whisp'ring drone
The silence is increased.

I touch the grass, allowing every blade
To crease beneath my hand.
This place the universe shall not invade;
It is my home - my land.

I watch the horses running wild and free,
So jealous of their lore.
They understand so much that I can't see
And live without all wars.

I heed the people living here, and wait
For them to speak their piece.
For wisdom always comes from their estate
And I have need for ease.

So much as happened here in decades past -
So many have been found.
This land is great - will never be surpassed -
Its blessings are so sound.

This is the place where horses dance and roam,
Where peace is spoken,
Where many creatures live and call their home,
Where hearts are ne'er broken.

-Phil

Untitled

Here I stand upon my hallowed mount.
I heard the wisp'ring wind and gusts of cool
Air, filling and fresh'ning the forest. I count
The leaves that cling to my limbs, all while pools
Of water glist'n below my roots.
I feed, and let my thirst be quenched for now,
Building up my health, readying to drop my fruit
For 'tis my joy to share my wealth
With those who sit beneath my bough.

A bird appears and sings upon my arm
To all my friends and neighbors that I dearly love.
Its tune so sweet, with simple charm,
That all the trees rejoice, and praise the birds above.
But all good things must end in time,
And birds must fly again with flock
So this fair creature lifted off with one last chime,
And sailed away
In clouds of dust and rock.

The season comes and carries me to wistful sleep
It strips me bare, naked from that which gives me life.
The depth of my dreams haunts me - it creeps
Over my skin, and keeps my rest from being rife.
And so I wait - for centuries, it seems.
I look into the past, remembering the verve
That I once knew. Rememb'ring sunlight's gleams.
So swiftly did those days desert my mind.
I must remember; I must preserve.

Unto the future now I look.
So many things that I will see again:
The wind, the bird, the pools, the brook.
So much is new, though - so much I've yet to gain
For sleep does not last forever;
Life will always drop its seed once more
And start it on a new endeavor.
Perhaps one day it will find its way
To endless lands, and sound its roar.

-Phil

Ode to a Bad Joker

There once was a joker so bad
That he made all the world quite sad
All the children cried
All the mothers sighed;
The joker, named Henry, was mad.

-Phil

To Be

To be a day away
From all the things that bring me pain.
To stand and see the gray
To sit and watch the storm and rain.

To be alive and see the dead
To feel, but only feel an ache.
To stare at life, as it is spread
To watch it break, and quake, and shake.

To sleep but not to rest
To listen to a voice, but hear
The silence of its quest.
To laugh but feel a tear.

Is this the life we live?
To see and hear, and yet stay mute
To have but not to give
To be a tree yet have no roots?

What does it mean, to be?
How can we make this all worth while?
We must believe - be free!
And to the world: we simply smile.

-Phil

If I Only Knew

The answers are never simple
The right is sometimes wrong
And the wrong is sometimes right.
Or is it?
If only I knew.
The world is so crumpled.
So many signs and songs.
Should I run or walk or leap or fly?
I don't know.
If only I knew.

All layers of earth are mixed
Reality is nothing more than blur.
I try to read the map; to find North.
South, East, West...
If only I knew.
We try to get it right, get it fixed
Put it in the pot and let it stir.
So on and so on and so forth.
It's a test
If only I knew.

Then fate comes knockin' on the door.
"Where are you?" it says to me.
I don't answer. I don't want to.
It's too hard.
If only I knew.
Every day it gets me at my very core
I want to know it all. I want to see
I need to put it all together.
Where's the glue?
If only I knew...
If only I knew...
If only I knew...

-Phil

What Are You?

What is this thing?
I do not know.
I can not find out what it is
And therefore cannot grow.

It vexes me,
This strange device.
So strange; strangely mysterious.
Is it sweet? Is it nice?

Or is it bad?
Or even sad?
I cannot tell what tool this is.
It makes me so... so... mad!

I feel so dumb.
My speech is plain.
This strange machine outsmarted me.
Yes, there it goes - my brain.

Damn you, strange thing!
I cannot think.
When will this long misery end?
Please get yourself in sync.

Alas you won't.
You can't, I know.
You've outsmarted me, once again.
You are a so-and-so.

-Phil

The Fate of Kingdoms

The kingdoms come to share their fate
To make a stand and strike the slate.
The hate and wrath of evil come against them.
In full strength the kingdoms gather
In the valley of their fathers -
Or brothers, rather,
They are the same blood, the same life,
And together, now, they fight.
Among the trees they taste their final breaths of air
For soon they take a burden they cannot bare.
The wretched sound of screams
Tonight will haunt their dreams.
On the morrow they will face
The enemy; on horseback they will chase.
Then they remember their kingdom's time
Their wealth, their fiefs, their lives sublime.
Was it so long ago they themselves took place
Among this realm of bloss'ming roses?
So many years of peace.
So many years released.
So let them fight to guard their land!
Let them take one final stand.
In this valley, they'll share their fate.
The enemy is at the gate.

-Phil

The Beginning

The darkness slowly creeps upon the earth.
In chaos pits of shadow loom above
While skies of dusk below the ground show girth.
No order is there in this place - just love.

A shape, a rhyme, a light is given to
This place. Guise and form take hold of chaos,
Destroying disarray, and bringing hue.
With love this world takes mold - around, across.

Within an instant, oceans spread throughout
Upon the clouds of dust the dust holds firm.
No longer does the world have need or drought.
In harmony, existence lives affirmed.

And in this perfect world the beasts take life.
There is no anger, hate, revenge, or strife.

-Phil

The Breeze

The breeze flows softly through the air with help
From clouds that glow in sunlight's shining tone.
The breeze turns to a wind, a howl, a yelp;
Forsaking fowl, as feathered creatures moan.
The forests weep and cry for winds to stop.
The leaves are beat and crushed beneath the beast
That lurks and creeps in search of seeds to drop.
The wind, the cry, that fights the world when 'tis released.
Not always is the breeze so cruel to earth;
Not always does it turn the dirt to sky.
On some sweet nights it acts with cheer and mirth;
On some sweet nights it sails the clouds on high -
Above the world where wind is needed, Where
the people hope and wish to touch the air.

-Phil

The Silence

In peace and quiet voices sound,
The endless depths of nothing pound.
My eardrums burst, while windows crack.
The sound of silence hits and hacks.

In nothingness I hear the noise:
Erupting calm and boiling lull.
The emptiness destroys all thoughts,
Destroys all chance to think and mull.

The sound - sweet sound - of breath will save
me. Interrupting tortured sleep.
And silence shall not overcome me;
No longer shall you make me weep.

But still, I must admit to you
The twists and turns that silence drew.
My suffering has long been sheathed,
As long as silence lets me breathe.

-Phil

Project

So I have been thinking, and even though it's maybe a little late for new year's resolutions, and since the first month of 2010 is already over, I'm going to begin an 11-month project. Every month, I will select a different activity to take part it. Throughout that month, I will do just a little bit of that activity every day. Basically, I just want to expand my skills, and allow myself maybe 30 minutes a day to try something new. So, with that short introduction, Month #1 begins, with poetry month. Every day, i will write a new poem. Doesn't matter what kind of poem, how long it is, anything. Just has to be poetic. Sound good? good.

-Phil

A Lock of Hair

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

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

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

Pictures of the Snow

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