Mom wants to learn how to knit. This is commendable, at 84, except for one thing; she's known how to knit for longer than I've been alive. Or rather, she did know how to knit, as recenlty, I think, as six months ago, but now not only does she not know how to knit, she appears to have no memory of being able to.
I have several sweaters that mom made for me, and have had many more in the past. The best pair of gloves she made me just died, due ot mice getting at them, which actually means improper storage on my part, leaving then under a pile of stuff instead of putting them away properly. At one point in time I had no socks other than what she had knit for met, and scarves as well.
When sorting through mom's stuff, Beth [my sister] laid claim to all mom's knitting and crocheting supplies, and it was a vast collection of needles and hooks, dozens and dozens, the accumulation of well over fifty years of active knitting.
As children, Beth and I sometimes referred to mom as "the automatic knitting machine", given how we always saw her with knitting when she was sitting down watching TV or listening to music, riding in the car, sitting talking with people, just about anytime she didn't need her hands for anything else.
And now she has no memory of knitting, or how to knit.
I'm getting good at not letting mom hear me cry while on the phone with her.
2010-06-22
Derivative works and artistic creativity
Music. Let's look at music, creativity, and interpretation.
Mussorgsky, Pictures at an Exhibition. Phenomenal work. But what most people are familiar with is the orchestration by Maurice Ravel, and to quote from the liner notes of my copy, "this modification of the music's essential nature has greatly increased its accessibility." Haven't heard the original work so I can't be sure of this, but I suspect the promenade portions aren't anywhere near as reminiscent of Aaron Copeland's style in the original, whereas the orchestration of the promenade screams Copeland at me, which probably has to do with Copeland being influenced by Ravel. Anyway, Ravel took Mussorgsky's piano work, altered it for orchestra, and produced a work of creative genius. Derivative, yet original.
Interpretation. There's a reason Conductors get top billing, when they conduct they produce a unique interpretation of what the composer envisioned. Musicians are noted not only for their technical skill, but their ability to work with the conductor to produce unique interpretations, to create each work anew, to breath fresh life into a work played many times before.
Covers. One artist originates a song, then others add it to their repertoire, each performing it differently, sometimes taking a song which was so-so with the original artist and creating a hit due to their interpretation of it [and sometimes, well, Trini Lopez anyone? (taking a hit and making it far less)]
I should be nice in mentioning Mr. Lopez, while I dislike his style he had quite the following, and a unique hand at interpretation.
Something we sometimes come across are those who are technically proficient, but who seem flat in their performance, for while their technique is good, they have no ability to add anything to the work via interpretation. In theory they produce exactly what the composer or arranger intended, by following the score without variation, but one has to wonder.
The ideal is someone who is technically proficient, who has great skill, and also has the spark of creativity which allows for interpretation; they can deliver a letter perfect performance without variation, but can also add those little nuances which separate the inspired performance from that which is technically proficient but non-interpretive.
Something to bear in mind. The modern standard is to have all the parts scored, every note indicated, but this was not always the case. There was a time when the base line was filled out, the figured bass, with key signatures given, but the rest of the score was not given; the musicians filled it out anew with each performance, and what was prized was the ability to take the figured bass line and fill in the other parts on the fly, to have a structured jam session each and every time. That was musicianship!
Mussorgsky, Pictures at an Exhibition. Phenomenal work. But what most people are familiar with is the orchestration by Maurice Ravel, and to quote from the liner notes of my copy, "this modification of the music's essential nature has greatly increased its accessibility." Haven't heard the original work so I can't be sure of this, but I suspect the promenade portions aren't anywhere near as reminiscent of Aaron Copeland's style in the original, whereas the orchestration of the promenade screams Copeland at me, which probably has to do with Copeland being influenced by Ravel. Anyway, Ravel took Mussorgsky's piano work, altered it for orchestra, and produced a work of creative genius. Derivative, yet original.
Interpretation. There's a reason Conductors get top billing, when they conduct they produce a unique interpretation of what the composer envisioned. Musicians are noted not only for their technical skill, but their ability to work with the conductor to produce unique interpretations, to create each work anew, to breath fresh life into a work played many times before.
Covers. One artist originates a song, then others add it to their repertoire, each performing it differently, sometimes taking a song which was so-so with the original artist and creating a hit due to their interpretation of it [and sometimes, well, Trini Lopez anyone? (taking a hit and making it far less)]
I should be nice in mentioning Mr. Lopez, while I dislike his style he had quite the following, and a unique hand at interpretation.
Something we sometimes come across are those who are technically proficient, but who seem flat in their performance, for while their technique is good, they have no ability to add anything to the work via interpretation. In theory they produce exactly what the composer or arranger intended, by following the score without variation, but one has to wonder.
The ideal is someone who is technically proficient, who has great skill, and also has the spark of creativity which allows for interpretation; they can deliver a letter perfect performance without variation, but can also add those little nuances which separate the inspired performance from that which is technically proficient but non-interpretive.
Something to bear in mind. The modern standard is to have all the parts scored, every note indicated, but this was not always the case. There was a time when the base line was filled out, the figured bass, with key signatures given, but the rest of the score was not given; the musicians filled it out anew with each performance, and what was prized was the ability to take the figured bass line and fill in the other parts on the fly, to have a structured jam session each and every time. That was musicianship!
2010-06-12
Do I own that CD? One possible solution
One possible solution, obviously, is to get rid of all your CDs, then you know the answer to "Do I have this already?"
Not finding this an acceptable option, I have, as a time waster, embarked upon the effort of creating an Excel spreadsheet to catalogue my music CDs, with the intent of expanding it to include cassettes and LPs as well. A maximum of ten data points per record, such as composer, director, artist, album title, issue and reissue dates, labels, format and media.
Having started on this yesterday, I already have 116 entries, which looks to be about a third of the CD collection.
Oh, the reason for using Excel instead of OpenOffice for this is quite simple, my PDA will open Excel files, so I can take this list with me.
While at a certain level this is the silliest thing I could be doing, especially given not going out to buy CDs so not being concerned by the question, do I have this already?, it is giving me a sense of accomplishment, and is reacquainting me with my collection, which I had utterly ignored for the last five years; when I go into an isolationist period, I go into an isolationist period! And unlike other recent activities, this isn't making me melancholy.
So, that's what I've been doing the past two days.
Not finding this an acceptable option, I have, as a time waster, embarked upon the effort of creating an Excel spreadsheet to catalogue my music CDs, with the intent of expanding it to include cassettes and LPs as well. A maximum of ten data points per record, such as composer, director, artist, album title, issue and reissue dates, labels, format and media.
Having started on this yesterday, I already have 116 entries, which looks to be about a third of the CD collection.
Oh, the reason for using Excel instead of OpenOffice for this is quite simple, my PDA will open Excel files, so I can take this list with me.
While at a certain level this is the silliest thing I could be doing, especially given not going out to buy CDs so not being concerned by the question, do I have this already?, it is giving me a sense of accomplishment, and is reacquainting me with my collection, which I had utterly ignored for the last five years; when I go into an isolationist period, I go into an isolationist period! And unlike other recent activities, this isn't making me melancholy.
So, that's what I've been doing the past two days.
2010-06-08
The Manhattan Transfer, Walt Disney, and other stuff
I was introduced to The Manhatten Transfer by an evangelical Christian back when I was attending Portland Community College; she was in my ballroom dance class, and we hung out a bit outside of class, and she gave me some tapes [the others were Keith Green tapes, tied in with that missionary work aspect of things].
Since then, while in Chicago, I bought The Manhattan Transfer Anthology - Down in Birdland, which I'm listening to as I type. So I've been listening to this group, off and on, since 1983 or there abouts. But I jsut found out that I could have been familier with them a lot earlier, if my family's television viewing habits had been different. You see, shortly after they started, back in 1975, they had a short-lived television program, Sunday nights at 8:00, according to their website the old Ed Sullivan Show time slot, and a show akin to that old warhorse.
1975. Sundays, 8:00PM. Let's see, what was I doing? Watching the Wonderful World of Disney and putting together jigsaw puzzles with my parents, either that or up in my room reading books, I can't take oath as to which, it's been a few years. OK, it is possible I was reading and my parents were watching The Manhattan Transfer, it's nice to think that dad appreciated them as much as I've come to, they are definitely a group he'd have liked. And it is possible that I wouldn't have enjoyed the show, but given the variety/comedy shows I did enjoy, I feel sure that I would have found it of some interest. But thinking about it, I was probably reading a book.
At that time of my life, odds were good that at any given time I was off reading a book. Or hanging out with Nathan Banks, who was my best friend for several years, in which case I might still have been reading a book.
So why are you reading this, anyway? Go out and get something by The Manhattan Transfer, and listen to it, you'll be glad you did.
Since then, while in Chicago, I bought The Manhattan Transfer Anthology - Down in Birdland, which I'm listening to as I type. So I've been listening to this group, off and on, since 1983 or there abouts. But I jsut found out that I could have been familier with them a lot earlier, if my family's television viewing habits had been different. You see, shortly after they started, back in 1975, they had a short-lived television program, Sunday nights at 8:00, according to their website the old Ed Sullivan Show time slot, and a show akin to that old warhorse.
1975. Sundays, 8:00PM. Let's see, what was I doing? Watching the Wonderful World of Disney and putting together jigsaw puzzles with my parents, either that or up in my room reading books, I can't take oath as to which, it's been a few years. OK, it is possible I was reading and my parents were watching The Manhattan Transfer, it's nice to think that dad appreciated them as much as I've come to, they are definitely a group he'd have liked. And it is possible that I wouldn't have enjoyed the show, but given the variety/comedy shows I did enjoy, I feel sure that I would have found it of some interest. But thinking about it, I was probably reading a book.
At that time of my life, odds were good that at any given time I was off reading a book. Or hanging out with Nathan Banks, who was my best friend for several years, in which case I might still have been reading a book.
So why are you reading this, anyway? Go out and get something by The Manhattan Transfer, and listen to it, you'll be glad you did.
2010-06-05
Balkan Folk Dance, or, why I didn't do well in ear training
Back in High School, back before there was dirt, freshman year it was, 1975-76 school year, winter term or spring, I'm not entirely sure which, I got drafted by my sister into taking a folk dance PE course. She paid for this; my feet were basically the same size they are today, and I was six inches shorter, or some such difference [can you say clumsy?] My sister folk danced barefoot, I wore hiking boots, they made me dance next to my sister, I had my revenge! Mwa ha ha! Oh yeah, it was spring term that Dave Adlhoch started the folk dance class.
Anyway, there I was at an early, formative, stage in my life, tossed into the world of Eastern European Folk Dance, Balkan, Turkish, Russian, and all parts in between, with excursions to Israeli Folk Dance. I spent the next five years or so taking folk dance classes for PE, and attending the then very active Reed College Folk Dance scene every Friday evening, gradually growing into my feet and gaining a great fondness for Eastern European Folk Music, including buying what records were available in the Portland area.
Fast forward to 1983, Portland Community College, I'm taking Music Theory, doing well in the composition section [while showing my rebel creds by giving the melody to the Tenor part, let the Sopranos suffer!], doing well in the sight singing section, but having real problems in the ear training section. See, to Western ears, minor chords are supposed to sound "wrong", this is part of how you identify them as being minor; take someone who has spent much of the proceeding seven years cultivating a taste for Eastern European, Israeli, and other folk music, and none of what they played sounded "wrong" to me, I was used to chords which cannot be done using "traditional" J.S. Bach based Western European tempered chords and harmony, this stuff was ho hum boring and sounded just fine to me, if unimaginative.
Just goes to show I was too worldly for that class, my ears weren't parochial enough for them.
I was reminded of this just now, as I sat listening to the Bulgarian Women's Choir 1993 world tour CD; still sounds just fine to me.
Anyway, there I was at an early, formative, stage in my life, tossed into the world of Eastern European Folk Dance, Balkan, Turkish, Russian, and all parts in between, with excursions to Israeli Folk Dance. I spent the next five years or so taking folk dance classes for PE, and attending the then very active Reed College Folk Dance scene every Friday evening, gradually growing into my feet and gaining a great fondness for Eastern European Folk Music, including buying what records were available in the Portland area.
Fast forward to 1983, Portland Community College, I'm taking Music Theory, doing well in the composition section [while showing my rebel creds by giving the melody to the Tenor part, let the Sopranos suffer!], doing well in the sight singing section, but having real problems in the ear training section. See, to Western ears, minor chords are supposed to sound "wrong", this is part of how you identify them as being minor; take someone who has spent much of the proceeding seven years cultivating a taste for Eastern European, Israeli, and other folk music, and none of what they played sounded "wrong" to me, I was used to chords which cannot be done using "traditional" J.S. Bach based Western European tempered chords and harmony, this stuff was ho hum boring and sounded just fine to me, if unimaginative.
Just goes to show I was too worldly for that class, my ears weren't parochial enough for them.
I was reminded of this just now, as I sat listening to the Bulgarian Women's Choir 1993 world tour CD; still sounds just fine to me.
2010-05-30
To Dady
And I picked up the next item from the box, and it was an envelope, inscribed "To Dady". And I opened it, and it contained a card, and the only words written on the card were the same as the envelope, "To Dady". And I looked at it, and suddenly broke down and cried.
I recognized the handwriting, it was mine, from when I was very young, not past first grade, if that. And all I'd needed to do was find a nice card, a raccoon cleaning its food, and write "To Dady", no need for anything else, and that card was treasured, and kept for 35 years, and then set aside with other items to be looked at and disposed of following my father's death, and now, 9 years later, I reach into a box and find this message of love. "To Dady".
And I cry. I cry for my father, who is long gone. I cry for myself, for the child who could write such a simple note on a card. And I cry for myself, who has no child, and has never known what it is like to have such a card given to him.
And the card sits on the box, and I know it is there, and I cry.
I recognized the handwriting, it was mine, from when I was very young, not past first grade, if that. And all I'd needed to do was find a nice card, a raccoon cleaning its food, and write "To Dady", no need for anything else, and that card was treasured, and kept for 35 years, and then set aside with other items to be looked at and disposed of following my father's death, and now, 9 years later, I reach into a box and find this message of love. "To Dady".
And I cry. I cry for my father, who is long gone. I cry for myself, for the child who could write such a simple note on a card. And I cry for myself, who has no child, and has never known what it is like to have such a card given to him.
And the card sits on the box, and I know it is there, and I cry.
2010-05-28
One with the ages; life as ephemera
Having gone through four boxes of computer disks which my father had accumulated, programs, accounting records, tax returns, etc., there were a total of five disks which I selected for retention. And there may well be overlap on the contents of those disks.
Three of the disks are 5.25" disks, which is difficult enough to work with in this day and age, but furthermore they are CP/M formatted, Kaypro 2X CP/M to be precise. This predates MS-DOS, and are non-compatible, so not only does one need a 5.25" disk drive, a rare thing in this day and age, but one needs an emulation program, which will allow the drive to act as though it were on a CP/M system, with file transfer software to copy the files from the disk. Now it just so happens that one of the files I rescued from a dying hard drive was 22DSK144, which is just such a program, and one which you can still find on the internet, produced by Simtel and available on their site, as I just discovered by doing a quick search. Released in 1997, this program allows you to read disks formatted in a wide variety of CP/M formats, provided you have the appropriate floppy drives, compatible with the disks, which I just happen to still have.
So using an aged Win98SE system, which had compatible disk drives, I have copied the contents of the three disks to said computers hard drive. I then copied the two 3.5" disks to the hard drive as well, as my most modern system has no floppy drives. The contents of the five disks fit onto one CD-ROM, with plenty of room to spare. The next step, which I'm not sure when I'll take it, is to search amongst my various word processing programs for one which will allow me to import files in WordStar format, for WordStar was what dad used, both CP/M and DOS, and I no longer have WordStar; I threw out the last installation disks for WordStar in my possession yesterday, knowing that I have versions of WordPerfect which will open the files, and I believe my copy of Word is early enough that it too can open WordStar files.
Keeping a copy of WordStar would be silly, as I no longer own any printers for which WordStar possesses printer drivers.
So I now have a CD with files from dad concerning family history, his life, etc., which I may someday peruse, actually probably sometime soon so that I can insure I can open the files, knowing that eventually Windows will no longer support the software programs which still recognize the WordStar format, and that I'll want to have the files converted to Word or OpenOffice or WordPerfect file formats prior to that day.
Going through dad's paper files is having an equally small amount of material being retained. I have no inclination to read through his sermons from when he was active in the Unitarian Ministry, and old ledgers, bank statements, correspondence, all of no relevance to my life, or my sister, so they are being recycled. We are not being hasty in this, dad died in 2001, we've had plenty of time to develop an interest in these files and have failed to do so, and it is now time to clean house and minimize belongings in preparation to moving me someplace else. Those five disks of dad's? That's more than I've kept of my own work from over the years.
You can tell a lot about someone by the books they own, and going through dad's books this is certainly true. An interest in medieval history and culture, religion and philosophy in general, a smattering of economics, some mysteries and science fiction, some children's literature, some poetry and classics; very little that we are retaining from the perspective of would we actually read them. But the current batch of seven boxes of books, which had been in the office and his bedroom, a fair portion of them we suspect Powell's will actually be interested in. But much would only be of interest to someone with a similar background, and that makes for a small interest group.
It's sad, in ways, how little we keep. But the most precious are the memories, and those will stay with us. As will the photo and slide collection, which my sister will maintain, having more interest in them than I do.
Three of the disks are 5.25" disks, which is difficult enough to work with in this day and age, but furthermore they are CP/M formatted, Kaypro 2X CP/M to be precise. This predates MS-DOS, and are non-compatible, so not only does one need a 5.25" disk drive, a rare thing in this day and age, but one needs an emulation program, which will allow the drive to act as though it were on a CP/M system, with file transfer software to copy the files from the disk. Now it just so happens that one of the files I rescued from a dying hard drive was 22DSK144, which is just such a program, and one which you can still find on the internet, produced by Simtel and available on their site, as I just discovered by doing a quick search. Released in 1997, this program allows you to read disks formatted in a wide variety of CP/M formats, provided you have the appropriate floppy drives, compatible with the disks, which I just happen to still have.
So using an aged Win98SE system, which had compatible disk drives, I have copied the contents of the three disks to said computers hard drive. I then copied the two 3.5" disks to the hard drive as well, as my most modern system has no floppy drives. The contents of the five disks fit onto one CD-ROM, with plenty of room to spare. The next step, which I'm not sure when I'll take it, is to search amongst my various word processing programs for one which will allow me to import files in WordStar format, for WordStar was what dad used, both CP/M and DOS, and I no longer have WordStar; I threw out the last installation disks for WordStar in my possession yesterday, knowing that I have versions of WordPerfect which will open the files, and I believe my copy of Word is early enough that it too can open WordStar files.
Keeping a copy of WordStar would be silly, as I no longer own any printers for which WordStar possesses printer drivers.
So I now have a CD with files from dad concerning family history, his life, etc., which I may someday peruse, actually probably sometime soon so that I can insure I can open the files, knowing that eventually Windows will no longer support the software programs which still recognize the WordStar format, and that I'll want to have the files converted to Word or OpenOffice or WordPerfect file formats prior to that day.
Going through dad's paper files is having an equally small amount of material being retained. I have no inclination to read through his sermons from when he was active in the Unitarian Ministry, and old ledgers, bank statements, correspondence, all of no relevance to my life, or my sister, so they are being recycled. We are not being hasty in this, dad died in 2001, we've had plenty of time to develop an interest in these files and have failed to do so, and it is now time to clean house and minimize belongings in preparation to moving me someplace else. Those five disks of dad's? That's more than I've kept of my own work from over the years.
You can tell a lot about someone by the books they own, and going through dad's books this is certainly true. An interest in medieval history and culture, religion and philosophy in general, a smattering of economics, some mysteries and science fiction, some children's literature, some poetry and classics; very little that we are retaining from the perspective of would we actually read them. But the current batch of seven boxes of books, which had been in the office and his bedroom, a fair portion of them we suspect Powell's will actually be interested in. But much would only be of interest to someone with a similar background, and that makes for a small interest group.
It's sad, in ways, how little we keep. But the most precious are the memories, and those will stay with us. As will the photo and slide collection, which my sister will maintain, having more interest in them than I do.
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