Rigidly policed boundaries

Conversation A:
Me: I think Rachmaninoff’s Third Symphonic Dance is the best piece of music ever written for orchestra.
My interlocutor: I know, I hate the Meditation from Thais, too!

Conversation B:
Me: I think “Open Arms” is a really good song.
My Interlocutor: So you probably hate Van Halen, then.

Why is it that Conversation A never happens, but Conversation B is almost a certainty? (And you can invert them: “So you hate the Meditation?” “I know, I hate metal, too!”)

I know that classical music is supposed to be snobby and insular — and sometimes is — but in a lot of ways, the rock world is way worse. I think liking classical music sets you apart as a geek far enough that people just don’t quibble about it. Whether you like Vivaldi or Grieg doesn’t matter, as most people can’t tell them apart anyhow. Besides, we can’t be too restrictive about what kind of classical music one likes; after all, there’s around 800 years worth of this stuff. It’d start to go all “People’s Front of Judea vs. Judean People’s Front” by that point. Each person would comprise four unique tribes — with no further members! — in and of themselves.

But rock? Rock is a baby, and so it’s insecure in a way that classical music isn’t. Its geeks are desperate to prove that they are actually cool (they aren’t), whereas classical music fans can hardly avoid letting our geek flag fly pretty proudly. Any kind of classical music will instantly brand one as a nerd, so liking Stravinsky as well as Caccini won’t cause one’s social status at the coffeehouse to slide any more than it already has. But liking Michael Bolton’s voice (although I wish he’d choose more interesting music) as well as Nine Inch Nails will cause a lot of rock fans’ heads to explode in confusion.

Rock needs to unclench its sphincter and just grow up. Its fans need to start listening to the music for its own sake rather than worrying so much about whether they can afford to be seen publicly enjoying a certain form of it. After all, Rock Fan A’s ears are connected to Rock Fan A’s brain, not Rock Fan B’s. Music should be about what goes into that person’s brain.

In some ways, this is due to the fact that — for good and ill — classical music is less social. Not always — and not always for musicians. But for the most part, a traditional symphony audience is composed of around 5,000 people all sitting quietly and having individual experiences. Rock concerts are composed of people who go to them with a couple friends, again both for good and ill. Liking a certain type of rock music brands one more indelibly as a member of a certain tribe, and if you are not of that tribe, in many ways you are socially barred from going. And going to a rock concert by oneself is certainly considered a strange thing or even a bit risky for a youngster, which cuts a lot of people out of the live rock experience, unfortunately. Classical music is a bit more tolerant of different personality types. One can be an avowed extrovert, and one can also be a socially awkward Aspie who hates eye contact. I’ve gone to lots of classical music events by myself, but I would have serious reservations of going even to a TSO concert by myself.

“But you can meet people! Make new friends!” says the TSO fan.

What if I’m not looking for that? What if I’m more reserved? What if I just want to enjoy the music rather than become initiated into some tribal affiliation? What if I’m just not a “joiner?”

The only conclusion to reach is that I am not the kind of person who likes that music … which is an awful thing to say about any form of music, particularly the wonderful TSO. Yet the live music experience of that sort of music does indeed prejudice it to being delivered only to the “right sort” of person. Classical seems to welcome groups and individuals a bit more easily. It might also be an artifact of an older audience that has left its clique-forming years in the distant past.

Of course, there is also some difficulty in the fact that classical music doesn’t facilitate connections between audiences members, especially in its failure to monetize that sort of behavior. But the fact that classical music isn’t nearly as cliquish for the audience has its positive aspects. And I’m not talking about your academic music department and how the Second Viennese School fans won’t sit at the same lunch table as the Mozart specialists. I’m talking about normal people, here. All academics factionalize, not just music departments. You should hear the plasma physicists and the theoretical cosmologists have at one another.

Rock can stand to lose some of its baboon-troop tribalism. And while the classical music live experience does need to revitalize itself, we should at least think long and hard about what we will lose (NOTE THAT THAT WORD HAS ONLY ONE “o”!) if we invite that sort of behavior into our world.

Viola-heavy weekend

Just seems to be one, much more so than piano. Haven’t touched “Lagrimar,” but I’ve shedded a bit on “Bethena,” so I’ve done some piano. I’ve just done more work on the viola this weekend, and I’m pretty happy with it. I think I’ll be truly ready to move on to both Suzuki v2 and the Fitzpatrick melodies with another “coat” of Suzuki v1. The big thing I’m concerned with is shifting, because I’m not sure I can get a grip on that without some hands-on help, and I don’t know how enthusiastic my old instructor will be if I go up to him and effectively ask for another couples months of intensive lessons followed by another six-month absence during which time I digest everything I’ve had presented to me. This is evidently considered a strange way to learn an instrument and particularly for a beginner, but I seem to like it and thrive on it.

I’ll burn that bridge when I come to it. :-)

The Happy Farmer knows his place at last.

I just put him in his place as my pool-boy and all around dogsbody. He’s happy now. So am I.

I will continue to hammer at him until he smiles beatifically and gets me coffee, and then it’s on to the Garotte Gavotte.

Then, Suzuki v1 gets its third coat to ensure proper coverage … then I revisit Fitzpatrick! I won’t hammer him; he’s an ex-Delay student, so his hammer’s way bigger than mine. I will however gently remonstrate with him until respect is forthcoming. :-D

Okay, no more Brahms.

I’m trying to chew on “Moon of Memory” to see where else it might want to go, and Brahms keeps popping in. No, I don’t want to have bits of the 4th movement of the first symphony in there. Go away. Shoo. *waves at the wisps of the stuff that keep sticking to my damned music*

I’ll keep chewing and see what happens. Happy to have a weekend coming up, though — two days with me and the piano, and a laptop to help out with it to boot.

Update: I like concentrating on these things during my daily walks at work. I think I have something.

What I’m doing at the moment

Might as well just write it all out — this is the stuff that’s active at the moment:

1) Arrangement:
“Son nata a lagrimar” arrangement for piano, viola, and violin — A weekend project until I get my new laptop, upon which point I can start doing it on weeknights.

2) Other people’s stuff:
“Bethena” — Various issues with various themes. I’m to the point now where I begin playing the second theme when I have nothing else to do and am just sitting there. I need to go through it and write out everything I need to get down, though — all issues, and then do some mental practice.

3) Viola:
More CM, shift exercises, long bowing, just the mechanical stuff. “Happy But Irritating Farmer.”

“Lagrimar” will come off the list first, just because “Bethena” will take a long time, and the viola is a never ending low-level thing for the next couple years. After “Lagrimar” is off the list, I’d like to get going on something longer, or else see about expanding some of my shorter things. I think the mental practice of “Bethena” will have to own my head for about a week, though.

“Moon of Memory” and “Bitter Clean” are probably the two likeliest candidates, but I have to chew on them a bit, just do what I did when I was working on the Fm and start a background process in my head and let it run 24/7. Unfortunately, I keep forgetting this last part, and end up not thinking about it until I’m sitting at the piano and staring at it like it’s supposed to tell me something instead of the other way around. I must pick one of these two and just ruminate like crazy when I’m driving to work, at work and waiting for something to print or whatnot, driving home, washing dishes, cooking, getting ready for bed, waiting to fall asleep, etc. I did that when I was working on the Fm, damn it. That thing was like pulling teeth. It didn’t just pop into my head unbidden.

“Lagrimar” gets done, and then I start chewing on one of these two and just ramp it the hell up.

Back to the DM scale on the viola

I need to do this. I’ve already allowed it to twist into an unmanageable shape in my head from my early misapprehensions about it, and I need to dig that splinter out before the skin closes over it.

It started because I allowed my head to make an incorrect correspondence: since CM was in first position, and DM was one whole step up, then I needed to move everything up one whole step in my mind.

Including my hand.

Which is wrong. Sure, the notes all go up a whole step, but the hand doesn’t.

I need to get the real-real genuine DM scale into my head, using the scales book, and doodle away on it when I get home. I’m already doing that with the CM scale (I still have a nasty time zeroing in on Fnat, but there you go) and I have to start doing it with DM as well. Then, I’ll just add on each one as I run into those key signatures in Fitzpatrick.

Further “Bethena” annoyances and improvements

They just don’t stop. The second theme will remain a serious challenge for me, although things have improved recently now that I’ve managed to get some traction on removing some rolling in a few chords that has nagged me since I started to study the piece. Oddly, making some progress on that rolling has helped me with the other challenges (just big octave jumps, nothing intellectually complex); in the past, I’ve had trouble concentrating on the octave jumps because I was always distracted with thinking ahead to the rolls. Now that I’ve got a bit of a grip on that, my ability to focus on the jumps has improved. As with most issues, trying new fingering often makes the most headway on solving the problem. It’s an Eb-Bb-C chord, and I’ve been using 1-2-4 for it. 1-3-5, strangely, seems better although it’s a bit counterintuitive. I just have to do it a bunch of times to reprogram myself to reach for it that way.

There was also a irksome chord in the bridge back to the first theme that bugged me that it turns out a 1-2-3 works best with — one of the long string of diminished chords he likes to use to bounce from one key signature to another. What is it … Db-G-Bb? I think that’s it. Lifting my hand to use 1-2-3 really solved a lot of the rolling problem I had with that, and the problem with the G swamping everything else. Gs tend to do that for me; I don’t know if it’s my fingering or my ear, but stick a middle G into any chord, and it’s like putting onions in a sandwich. Doesn’t matter what the other ingredients are — that damned onion is all you taste.

So that’s improved. And there’s also another thing that I want to be sure to remember all the way in the last part in DM before the main theme recap, the big splashy one with all the fireworks. There was a shoot up to AM in there that I would get out of by using 4 … mostly because 5 was already occupied on the A at the top of the chord. However, using 4 to go down on the G weakened my hand terribly. I have no clue why, but it did — the minute I pushed down on that 4, my hand turned into jello and the whole phrase got rickety. I pushed at that for a while before realizing that the only thing for it was to just lift 5 to go from the A to the G. I didn’t like it, but it allowed me to maintain strength and clarity through the whole thing. It’s amazing how one problem will domino forward through a whole phrase, just knocking everything off that comes after. And the mental anxiety of knowing that That Part’s Coming Up will also unsettle everything that comes before.

It’s also important for me to realize when I’m implementing the right solution incorrectly, and when I’m implementing the wrong solution. I tried to get that 5-to-4 on the AM to work so much. I kept telling myself that I had to just woodshed on it, when in reality what I had to do was to get it to sound right, whatever fingering I might have been using, and that if that 5-to-4 screwed me up constantly, it was time to try something else. I’m not sure if there is a faster way to recognize these sorts of situations. I suspect not. I just need to be open to changing the fingering when a problem is really proving to be stubborn. It feels like I’m “cheating” my way out of the problem, and that I “should” be able to use my initial fingerings, but … well, that’s stupid. The best way to handle a problem is to avoid it in the first place.

Other stuff I’ll eventually want to deal with include some timing issues in the Bm part that’s so pretty, and those big chords in the part before that that wind up on Am. There’s a couple big handfuls that repeat, and I know I’m not getting them as clearly as I want to. I also can’t figure out how to evolve that section nicely. You know how it is — when you have a repeat, you don’t just play the thing the same way twice, you generally play it By The Book the first time, and then see what you can bring out and make the audience notice about it the second time, some neat part of the structure that you want to bring to their attention. Well, I need to find something in that structure that I can point out on the second go-round because right now I’m just playing it twice the same way, which is dull. I’ve got nice ways to approach the other themes differently on the second go-around, and I’ve got a couple additional ways to approach the main theme, which is nice because that gets played the most. I just need to find something extra to draw out of that thing in FM.

Anyhow, some nice news regarding “Bethena.” And when I get my new laptop next week, I’ll be able to get more arranging done during the week as well since I’ll have a computer at home all the time. I’m really looking forward to it.

Okay, so what the hell IS basic plot structure?

Or the basic structure of a three-part trilogy or any multi-part work?

Let’s face it, it can’t be a coincidence that three-part works are sort of a go-to structure for many forms of storytelling, including film, music, and literature. The sonata. The trilogy. Even visual art has the triptych.

Sonatas often (but not always) tend to be sort of allegretto-andante-allegro:

  1. A part that goes at a decent clip and that sets up all the basic bits, followed by
  2. A part that takes its time more, and might be a little bit darker and slower, where things get more complex, followed by
  3. A whiz-bang last part that wraps up with fireworks.

Okay, if anyone can differentiate that from a typical trilogy story, I’d like to see how. I just pretty much described the whole “Star Wars” trilogy for you. (Forget the prequels. The prequels sucked.)