Category Archives: Music

Music in Prose

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I’m almost finished with Michael Chabon’s Telegraph Avenue, a story crafted in thick, rich prose with sentences that go on for miles. Music plays a central role in the book, and Chabon manages to make music with his writing, crafting fictional songs with language to the point where I actually went looking for the album he described. This passage is about a fictional musical interpretation of “I Don’t Know How to Love Him” from Jesus Christ Superstar:

Cochise Jones always liked to play against your expectations of a song, to light the gloomy heart of a ballad with a Latin tempo and a sheen of vibrato, root out the hidden mournfulness, the ache of longing, in an up-tempo pop tune. Cochise’s six-minute outing on the opening track of Redbonin’ was a classic exercise in B-3 revisionism, turning a song inside out. It opened with big Gary King playing a fat, choogling bass line, sounding like the funky intro to some ghett0-themed sitcom of the seventies, and then Cochise Jones came in , the first four drawbars pulled all the way out, giving the Lloyd Webber melody a treatment that was not cheery so much as jittery, playing up the anxiety inherent in the song’s title, there being so many thousand possible ways to Love Him, so little time to choose among them. Cochise’s fingers skipped and darted as if the keys of the organ were the wicks of candles and he was trying to light all of them with a single match.  Then, as Idris Muhammad settled into a rolling burlesque-hall bump and grind, and King fell into step beside him, Cochise began his vandalism in earnest, snapping off bright bunches of the melody and scattering it in handfuls, packing it with extra notes in giddy runs. He was ruining the song, rifling it, mocking it with an antic edge of joy. (p. 279)

It goes on for another paragraph or two…amazing, intriguing, engaging. And the whole books is like that, whether describing the flight of a parrot over Oakland in a sentence that lasts for four or five pages, or the lives of his characters as they struggle to live authentic lives that seem out of step with the mainstream. Ultimately, the book is about race but it is about so much more.

There is plenty of real music in the book, though, and that you can find on the Internet as Forrest Wickman at Slate has thoughtfully put together a Spotify playlist.

Sweet, Sweet Honey

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What a wonderful evening I had last night!  Out to dinner with friends then a Sweet Honey in the Rock concert at the Attucks Theater in Norfolk, Virginia.  I was swept away by their beautiful acapella singing.  Just amazing music, but what struck me the most was how much fun they were having.  At one point, one of them closed her eyes and just sang, and when she opened them, she seemed a little surprised that there was an audience watching.  I came home and downloaded their new CD from iTunes.  And, one of my friends is going to Ysaye Barnwell’s Building a Vocal Community at the Omega Institute this summer and encouraged me to go.  Hmmm…it’s a possibility although I am trying to save money for England.

Hey…it’s Robert Frost’s birthday!  I always use him as an example of fair use; how I would be listening to the Writer’s Almanac on my way to school and discover that it was Robert Frost’s birthday and wanted to read a poem so it was OK to make a copy for my classes.  Well, I didn’t know what a depressing life he led.  I have been to visit his gravesite.  Today, Keillor is reading “Neither Out Far Nor In Deep.”

I read my email before blogging and ended up at Civil Discourse to read about Jeremiah Wright.  The post quotes the Wikipedia entry on Wright and takes the time to present the full sermons from which the ugly soundbites were pulled.   And then I followed a few links.  Here’s Andrew Sullivan at the Atlantic who also provides context for the sermon.  That led me to Think on These Things, an Obama-leaning political blog.  I get it…I’m only listening/reading the people who agree with me, but they are also the ones who are providing the information not being covered in the media.

Easter Sunday 2008

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And I’m not going to church.  Instead, I’m up early watching the sun rise.  As I walked with the dogs earlier, we stood a moment and looked at the almost full moon in the west, clear and bright in the sky.  I feel like I sometimes carry “church” with me, a sense of awe and gratitude for a life I did not create and that I cannot always control.  I send my wishes and dreams out to the universe, which often answers in surprising and wonderful ways.  I require little to make me happy: hot coffee after a cold morning walk, beautiful music to help the sun crest the pine trees  (this morning it’s Nick Drake who just popped out at me as I scanned iTunes), love of family and friends.  I see the poetry around me, and long to find the perfect metaphor, one that takes the breath away, one that captures the essence of what lives in y heart.  But, I am no poet and must be contented with these fragile words.

Happy Easter!

Thinking About Buddha and Boats

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I hadn’t been to church for several weeks…busy traveling and working. But, I went yesterday, mostly to hear The Delvers. They are a local group that plays folks, jazz and western swing. One of the band members belongs to my church and I arranged for them to play. As we were getting set up, one of them asked what I was going to do when I finished my degree. I’m not sure, but for several years now, I’ve been talking about building a kayak from a kit.

The sermon was about the use of metaphor in our spiritual journey, and I was pleasantly surprised when the minister told the parable of the Buddha. You can read the whole story here, but the main point is that a man collects materials to build a raft and cross a river. Then, however, he decides to carry the boat with him over his head even though there is no more water to cross. The point: sometimes we carry metaphors with us when they are no longer useful. I couldn’t help but relate this to my own life and that very real kayak I want to build.

Now that I’m getting ready to do my dissertation research, I’ve been asked a lot what I’m going to do when I’m done. Well, first, I’m going to take a break! Read trashy novels, work in the garden, play music, make movies, etc. etc. And, build that kayak…perhaps it’s my own metaphor for moving onto the next phase of my life. I have not ever really built anything and I thought it would be much different from the cerebral work I’ve been doing.

I met with my advisor after church and then went home and submitted my institutional review board request. I may have approval by the end of the week! I’m trying to finish what work I can so my time is free for research. It’s very exciting to be getting started.

Watched the first two parts of John Adams last night on HBO. It was good: I particularly liked Laura Linney as Abigail Adams. In fact, of the two, she’s my favorite in general historically. He was gone so often and for so long that she was running the farm and educating the children herself.

Music

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I spent yesterday digitizing albums and collecting the music I had already done from the three laptops I’ve got.  At one point, I had all four of my macs, including my 12-inch iBook, running.  I used Final Vinyl to divide them into tracks and today I’ll import them into iTunes and add the information.

I’m also going to experiment with The Analogue Ripper to see how it works.  I installed Final Vinyl on my desktop but it only works if I have my iMic in the USB port.  It does do a decent job of dividing the songs and naming them in sequence.

Right now, I’m listening to Nick Drake.  Seems like the perfect calm music for a Sunday morning.  Not so calm, however, since the squirrel discovered the blue feeder that Bob hung up yesterday and is noisily sucking down the bird food.  He only moves away a foot or so when I tap on the window.  An afternoon and a few peanuts and I could have them trained.

Heard back from my advisor about revising my proposal: mostly just a few methods pieces have to be done before IRB approval.  That’s good news since I’d like to submit all that first thing next week.  I’m using Thursday as my deadline to send the draft back to her.

I’m still giving myself the day off today…maybe we can go to the property, or wait until tomorrow afternoon when it is going to be 70 degrees!  Or, go both days.  After all, I am on vacation.

All the snowmen and leftover Christmas regalia is up in the attic for another year.  By the time I put it out this year, I should be done with my degree.  Then, what?  Who knows?  But I want it to look a lot like it looks now.  Working for a few clients both on the road and at home.

So, just ten minutes until Tim Russert and Meet the Press.  I just checked and it’s a press round table today with Matlin, Carville, Shrum, and Murphy.  Should be lively and fun.  I really can’t seem to get enough of this year’s election process.  I actually made a difference with my vote in Virginia this year.

Defense Day

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We got back from the school board meeting sometime after 11 PM then stayed up until 2 or so.  Hence, just getting around to writing at 9:20 this morning.  My defense begins at 3 PM and I have a couple errands to run before then.

Tina Turner has figured out how to get out of the yard.  I usually walk the dogs but this morning I just let them out of the back door into the fenced in back yard.  When I went to let them in for breakfast, Tina was over at the neighbors.  She came when I called and I let her back in, but we need to figure this out.  We tied her to the picnic table yesterday since we put them in the back yard for our trip.  But I don’t want to have to tie her up every time.  So, once I finish this and go let the chickens out, I’ll do some investigating.

Scared a squirrel off the sunflower feeder and he landed in the pond!  Lucky for him, it’s frozen enough that he could bounce off and head up the chimney to the roof.  The virds are lining up for Bob’s peanut butter suet.  There’s a red bellied woodpecker on the feeder, two blue birds, actually make that three, and either a goldfinch or a warbler waiting.  It’s amazing I get anything done with the view that I have.

I am forming my spring break to do list in my mind: the human subjects paperwork for my study, taxes, and spring cleaning.  I’m going to put the winter decorations away and give everything a good dusting and scrubbing.  I love the wood stove but it seems to crank out dust non stop.  My folks are coming to visit next weekend and I want the place to look nice.  The rug in the living room needs replaced, and I’m going to pull up the kitchen rug and scrub the floor.   I’m also going to hook up the record player and ibook to do some albums.

Aah, the first cup of coffee is finished.  Time for jeans and chickens.  Blessings for the day!

Saturday Morning, Feeling Fine

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After almost exactly a year of work, I turned in my dissertation proposal to my committee yesterday.  My advisor has already returned it with some suggested changes, but she assures me that it is not because I am a slacker.  It is 125 pages after all.

This is all very exciting but also a little overwhelming and perhaps I’m experiencing a small sense of let down.  Because of the way I’ve written this paper, it was part of my life throughout 2007.  My research plans have changed fairly significantly since January 2007 including my paradigm.  I shifted from a constructivist to an interpretivist paradigm in the hopes of being able to at least make some generalizations with my data.

Suddenly, I have some time…enough work to keep me busy during the day, but evenings and weekends provide unstructured time.  I’ve been crocheting for charity (mostly baby booties and hats).  And reading. I just finished Pontoon by Garrison Keillor.  I really liked it but found myself sort of wanting more.  The story seemed spare for Keillor; I found myself wanting more of his diversions.  This was definitely the story of Evelyn and those close to her rather than a story of Lake Wobegon as a whole.  Since I hurt my back, I’ve been feeling very middle aged and just tired.  So, I could sympathize with Evelyn’s daughter, Barbara.  Except I have a lovely marriage that blesses my life every day.

I picked up The Power and the Glory by Grace MacGowan Cooke yesterday but only got through the introduction.  Published in 1909, the subtitle is “A Novel of Appalachia.”  I sat in the swing under the oak tree and learned about the author, something of a feisty woman who was very much part of the literary ether of the time, rubbing shoulders with Sinclair Lewis and  Robinson Jeffries.  The book was made into a movie in 1918.

Most of Cooke’s work is out of print, but this edition was released in 2003 by Northeastern University Press.  I was also pleased to discover that it is available via Project Gutenberg. I am planning on spending an hour with it today wrapped in a blanket in front of the fire.

Right now, I’m puttering on the computer, setting up an iGoogle page for a workshop I’m doing at the VSTE conference and listening to great music from WFMU: Laura Cantrell’s Radio Thrift Shop…there is laundry in and I’ve got the ingredients for sweet potato pies on the kitchen table getting soft (butter and frozen sweet potato mash).  I’m making pies for dinner tonight.  And, later this afternoon, I have a recorder rehearsal.  But, I’m pretty sure I can find an hour to read.  Maybe even crochet…what DID I do with myself before I started going to graduate school full time?