We All Go The Same Way Home

I had an enlightening conversation yesterday with a woman who has a unique gift.  She is able to communicate with those spirits who have passed from our plane to the ethereal.  I have no doubts as to her talent, and she comes by it honestly with a cultural background rich in spiritual journeys.  She has an uncanny ability to "cut through the bullshit" and is very open to conversations about her beliefs and learning.  This person's experiences coordinate with bits of "What the Bleep?!: Down the Rabbit Hole", in case you've ever seen that.  A very bare bones description (which is all I have) of the concept is the knowledge that time is a constant, and that the presence of multiple simultaneously co-existing planes are not only possible but very probable.


She told me more than I thought I'd learn on a Monday after Thanksgiving.  One thing stuck with me and reminded me of the Flogging Molly song "The Son [sic] Never Shines On Closed Doors".  (Note: the use of "son" is intentional and reflects the lead singer's coming-to-terms with his difficult childhood.)  "The report card or the grading scale is based around how you treat other people, but also how you treat yourself."  The woman described one person's experience as being so damaging that she chose to shut herself off from others.  She grew to live in a box, an emotional shut-in who intentionally chose that route.  "It's interesting because she was very aware of what she was doing, it was like a defense mechanism."


I've opted for a very long time to keep people at arm's length.  I prefer to have a few close friends, but often gravitate towards more superficial relationships because they are less dangerous.  You aren't exposed to as much risk if you truly never engage with people.  The problem is that you end up like the person I heard about - shut in, boxed out, "ornery", prickly, and very, very lonely.  It still seems counterintuitive to think about actually opening up to people, because I don't trust very easily.  I'm learning, though, that it's very difficult to live on your own.  Don't get me wrong, I have several very good friends and a wonderful family upon whom I can depend and whom I trust, literally, with my life.  Beyond that, I've chosen in the past to spend my time with people that I knew I could "trust" to not pry too far into my life.  It's becoming harder to keep that going; the older I get, the less time I want to spend in crowded bars unless I'm watching my friends play music.  What this woman told me yesterday confirms that thought I keep trying to push away - I'm Doing It Wrong.


Anybody got a quick fix for bad judgment?

Death comes like a thief in the night 
to steal, while you sleep, the soul's flickering light

"Well maybe it's then," she said, "I'll see you again 
because the son never shines on closed doors" 

She said "The son never shines on closed doors.  
I open to find only hurricanes blow 

Take me away to the green fields of May 
because the son never shines on closed doors." 

And we all go the same way home.

Thanksgiving 2010

Ever since Mom bought me a subscription to Cook's Illustrated five years ago, I've become obsessed with trying new things with one exception: candy.  It's sticky, messy, gloppy, easily burned, hard to bring to the right consistency, and is a total pain to clean up.  At least that's what I thought.

Serious Eats featured this recipe on their weekly e-mail blast earlier this month.  It seemed easy and I decided to give it a shot.  Sunday night yielded caramel soup, thanks to my lazy replacement of "1/2 cup maple syrup" with "1/2 cup of Mrs. Plasticworth's".  I had a feeling, about halfway through the last step,  that I should have paid attention to Cook's Illustrated's quarterly reiteration that "kitchen science" should never be overlooked.  The icky fake syrup that my mom abhorred, preferring the "real stuff" that came in the glass bottle, produced a relatively thin and syrupy concotion that didn't even set in the refrigerator.  I dumped it in the trash can (which, in retrospect, was a less than adequate solution) and tried again Monday night.  That worked out a LOT better and the entire first (successful) batch ended up in the tummies of my coworkers.  Wednesday's batch was even better; I had a way better idea of what it was supposed to look like after I mastered the uneven burner's intricacies.  Unfortunately, my "stop the drip" reflex gave me a potential second degree burn on my index finger and made me fling caramel all over the kitchen (and my neck).  4 hours of ice-water submersion later, I had the equivalent of a sunburn on my finger and a wax-paper-wrapped batch of 37 maple syrup caramels.

Mom let me in the kitchen, kind of, this year and I made the turkey again.  Part of the reason I say "kind of" is because, in Richmond, the Ukrop's Kitchen routinely provides the holiday fixings.  My carrots didn't turn out so well because I got distracted and forgot to cover them in the oven... never, ever roast carrots without a loose aluminum foil or askew glass lid covering them.  The turkey was a lot better - like, one of the better ones I've ever made.  I separated the skin from the breast all the way down to the base, and smeared some butter in between the skin and the meat.  I tried a rub of some herbs, spices, dried garlic/onions, and sage - but with my greasy hands it didn't work too well.  I ended up liberally dousing the buttered turkey in this mixture while adding water to the pan.  Not really sure what temperature at which is was cooked - it was supposed to be at 350 in the oven by itself but, as usual, the sides were crammed into the oven as well.  An attempt to change the temperature of the oven was not well-received and the turkey ended up taking a little longer than expected; the skin wasn't as crispy as it would have been if I'd broiled it the last 10 minutes but I didn't have the luxury of a warming oven for the sides.  Despite the minor obstacles in the path to turkey enlightenment, it actually turned out really well - and Dad liked it too :-)

2010 Thanksgiving highlights:  Aunt Joanne's homemade tiramisu, my turkey, Shari's banana bread, Dad's accidentally frozen wine, and whatever that mead was in Mom's refrigerator.  Nom nom nom!

Come & Play - November 21, 2010

Every year since 2007 the Richmond Symphony Orchestra has participated & coordinated a community event called "Come & Play".  The event name is pretty self-explanatory; nearly anyone in the community is able to come and play in a one day rehearsal with a concert directly afterwards.  There were close to 600 participants this year, which included RSO players who graciously agreed to come and facilitate the minor crises in each section (which are bound to happen with the wide range of talent present).  This year's program consisted of full or edited versions of "In The Hall Of The Mountain King", "Themes from Phantom Of The Opera", "St. John's on Church Hill" (inspired by Richmond's historic St. John's Church and composed by RSO's composer-in-residence DJ Sparr), "Danse Bacchanale", "Stars & Stripes Forever", "March Of The Toreadors", and the waltz from Tchaikovsky's "Sleeping Beauty".

Love, love, LOVE this event.  Ben & Tiffany Williams came down from Loudoun County (she was in Judy's studio with me at GMU, Ben and I were in the Hammel music studio in middle/high school), Katie (Bishop) Pullam played with us (she was also in Judy's studio), and Marcey Leonard (GRYWE "mom") came too!!!  I love getting to see my friends at musical events.  I played piccolo for the whole event, got to sit next to Ann Choomack and listen to her awesome picc-ing, and there were like, at least a dozen piccolos playing that Stars & Stripes solo.  Just awesome.

Basically this is an excellent community event.  Students can find teachers, babies can get real confidence playing with the "big kids", and it is just so much fun.  Not only that, it directly benefits the music programs in our schools.  Love the RSO!

Richmond Flute Fair - November 20, 2010

The Richmond Flute Fair is held at Virginia Commonwealth University, organized by university staff and local musicians.  This year's event was November 20, 2010 and featured Aaron Goldman as the guest artist.  The community response was excellent; the Richmond Symphony's flute section was present in either judge, clinician, or performing capacity.  Dr. Tabatha Easley & Susan Farmer were the event coordinators and really put together a great program.  We held clinics on yoga's relation to flute playing (Ariella Perlman), piccolo playing (Ann Choomack, Richmond Symphony Orchestra piccoloist), and auditioning and sight reading (Kate Watts).

The final concert consisted of clinicians or coordinators performing solo pieces.  Elizabeth Brightbill (Terra Voce) performed a classic Katherine Hoover piece titled "Winter Spirits", bending pitches and blowing through passages reminiscent of swirling wind, ethereal voices, and stark landscapes.  Mom & I performed Gary Schocker's "Soliloquy", which I always considered to be a simple but pretty piece, starting with a sliding, lazy figure and progressing into a dynamic thematic development.  Ariella played an awesome piece for flute & audio tape by Elizabeth Brown.  I love pieces like this because they offer a wide range of artistic freedom, unlike Ted Messerschmidt's "Numismatics"which is a highly organized, sequential piece (albeit for "percussion").  The flute part employs some of the more common extended techniques (pitch bending, harmonics) with found music turned into a rhythmic duet part.  Ann performed one of my favorite pieces, the Dutilleux "Sonatine", with solid and staccato double tonguing on the cadenzas.  The lyrical section had just enough drive to make it to the piano interlude and dance-like section.  That dance section, by the way, sounded like little sprites dancing.  Very cool :-)

Jeremy McEntire's performance of Michael Colquhoun's "Storyteller" was absolutely mesmerizing.  I love Colquhoun, even though I can barely make it through two pages of "Charanga", because he focuses on expanding the narrow range of  extended technique compositions available in the flute repertoire.  This piece, per usual, required the player to effortlessly transition from straight pitch to multiphonics and harmonics, and vocalizing.  I was glad to hear him vocalizing because it made me realize that I'm actually making progress towards sustaining that technique.  I wasn't entirely sure that I was even doing it right, but Jeremy's performance really solidified my auditory concept of the sounds I'm aiming to produce.  Dr. Easley just played the last movement of Stephen Lias' sonata for flute & piano due to time constraints, but it was a real joy to hear.  It was energetic, fun, and a great way to end a great day.

RSO Masterworks: 10/16/10

Mom, Ray and I went to the Carpenter Center in Richmond, VA see a fabulous program put on by the Richmond Symphony Orchestra and guest pianist Dmitri Shteinberg.  It was a great chance for me to see the newly refurbished Carpenter Center, aka Richmond CenterStage, which I hadn't visited since it  reopened in 2009.  The Richmond Symphony Youth Orchestra performed on that stage many times when I played flute with them, and I knew from experience that the upper seats were the best in the house.  They're less expensive, but you get a bird's eye view combined with the best possible acoustic mix.

The RSO, conducted by Steven Smith, knocked it out of the park.  The 20th century program consisted of the following: "Fanfare to Precede 'La Peri'" by Paul Dukas, Debussy's "Sarabande" & "Danse" (orchestrated by Maurice Ravel), the 1919 "Firebird" by Igor Stravinsky, and Rachmaninoff's monstrous 3rd piano concerto.  Guest artist Dmitri Shteinberg (DMA from Manhattan School of Music) is a faculty member at Virginia Commonwealth University.  He has a long history of collaborative and solo performances and has recorded for Summit Records, Bavarian & Israeli radio / television, and NPR.

The brass section ably tackled the Dukas "Fanfare", a bright and short work that caught the (initially distractible) audience's attention.  RSO's brass section filled the Carpenter Center with rippling phrases that culminated in a series of brilliant closing cadences.  The previously, and few, chatty audience members finally turned their attention to the performance.

Claude Debussy & Maurice Ravel were one of musical history's greatest A-Teams (another was The Mighty Handful).  Ravel orchestrated Modest Mussorgsky's "Pictures at an Exhibition" which was a massive success; more so, even, than the original work for 4 hands (2 pianists, for the non-musical readers).  Over thirty years after Debussy composed "Sarabande" (1896) and "Danse" (1890), Ravel gave them the same treatment.  The orchestral version of "Sarabande" was, to me, pensive and deliberate.  "Danse" was more playful and unpredictable,  with some rhythmic instability due, at least in part, to Debussy's meandering pulse emphasis.  Last night's program notes quote Thaddeus Carhart when describing Impressionist music: "Bar lines - like children - should be seen, and not heard."  That is the absolutely word and truth when it comes to Debussy & Ravel.  There is always an internal pulse that cannot be broken, but is often bent or adjusted to suit the moment, or to wring the last drop of music from the inner viola harmonies.

There isn't much to say about the 1919 "Firebird" Suite that critics, students, composers, colleagues, and laymen haven't already written.  I will say that I, after years of practicing excerpts and studying excerpts for music history listening quizzes, underestimated the total effect that the ~25 minute suite has on a listener.  From the eerie, understated opening to the interlocking woodwind flourishes; from the incredible swells near the second transition that are reminiscent of "Scheherazade - The Ship Breaks Against A Cliff Surmounted By A Bronze Horseman" to the abundance of unique leit motifs; this piece plays upon the entire range of our emotionally reactive subconscious.  I. Love. Stravinsky.

Rachmaninoff's third piano concerto is a beastly composition; the initially seductive and disarming theme  erupts into virtuosic passages that showcased Shteinberg's technical prowess.  He performed the entire piece from memory, typical for concertists - but it's is more impressive when you consider the piece in its entirety.  From beginning to end, Rachmaninoff manipulates the themes and fragments into alternately tender and explosive moments.  The RSO balanced the intense and technically demanding performance with a unified orchestral "voice" that effortlessly traded the thematic material throughout the ensemble.  I'm not sure what the piano version of articulation is called (I'm a flutist, we use the tongue to articulate passages in a similar fashion to the way the tongue is used in speech), but Shteinberg's was flawless.  The Intermezzo (mvt II) had a crystal clear but "full" quality; in other words, the combined effects of the dynamic range, harmonies, musicality, and that indescribable quality known as beauty which makes me feel too small for my skin.  It's an almost transcendent feeling, and I love that we have an ensemble and performers like this in my home town.  Bravo, RSO & Dr. Shteinberg!