also, he should have hired a librettist

So, I got this phone call that basically consisted of, "My wife and I are going to Götterdämmerung and we have an extra ticket. Would you like it?" And, really, there's only one answer to that.¹

I've seen the entire Ring Cycle before, about four years ago. I had a professor in the pit that was able to get me tickets to the dress rehearsals for the first two, another friend with an extra ticket for the dress rehearsal of the last one... and, uh, I may or may not have snuck into the dress rehearsal for Siegfried. It was four operas in the space of one week, and I was utterly exhausted by the end. Wagner is one of the only composers I know of that causes hangovers.

But, one of the nice things about the Ring is that if you only make it to the last opera, you're fine, because they will helpfully recap everything that happened before. Sometimes numerous times. This is why I walked into the hall at 6pm and walked out at about 11:30. There are two intermissions, at which they sell alcohol, and this is why. Thanks, Wagner, for assuming your audience had the memory of goldfish.

Anyway, let's start with the technical difficulties.

So, we're in the scene changing music for Siegfried's Rhine Journey. The curtain's down, the orchestra's playing. The orchestra reaches the climax, and then... trails off mid-phrase. The curtain is still down. Silence. In the pit I can just make out the conductor, talking into some sort of phone or walkie-talkie. More silence. The audience starts to fidget. Finally, the conductor picks up his baton, the orchestra backtracks a few measures and starts playing again, the curtain goes up, and it's business as usual.

Except then it happens again, in the opening for the second act. Finally, before opening the third act, they send some poor fellow out on stage to tell us that apparently all of the scene changes are computer-controlled², and that the computer in question had started crashing, and they were terribly sorry but were also confident that the problem had been fixed... and I assume it was, since we didn't notice any other mishaps.³

There was another charming incident on stage, after Siegfried has disguised himself as Gunther, wrested the ring back from Brünnhilde, sent her back into the cave to pout, and is now gloating.⁴ And as he's doing so, he is casually tossing the ring into the air and catching it. Except he drops it, and has to chase it across the stage.

Also, I do not understand why it is so incredibly impressive to see them lead a horse across the stage. Yes, yes it is a real live horse. There it is, on the stage. Why are you all applauding the horse? Is there some form of elaborate trickery required to get a horse on stage that I am not aware of?

There was also a nice moment when Brünnhilde says something to the effect of "Yes, I know that sword well. I also know its scabbard," and the entire audience snickered, because we are all twelve.⁵

I am, however, a little disappointed in the ending, which in this case was portrayed by lowering a translucent screen on which they then projected the image of flames. Because I feel that if your opera ends with, "and then everything caught fire, the end," that there should be real fire involved.

So, good times.

You may have noticed that I haven't commented on the music. You must be a very observant person.

1. I may possibly have answered before he finished talking.[↩]


2. I didn't know this, but if I had thought about it I probably would have guessed.[↩]


3. Insert your computer joke of choice here.[↩]


4. Look, just go read the synopsis.[↩]


5. Also, I don't believe a scabbard is used anywhere in this particular production. because he just ties it to his back with a bit of rope. But, you know, semantics.[↩]

a new place

So, it seems that I have acquired another blog.

Which on the surface sounds like foolishness, since I can barely manage to keep this one updated, but hear me out.

See, at some point I decided that this space ought to be mostly music-related. It made sense, because that's pretty much all I do, right?

Well, I'd still like to keep this one mostly music-oriented, but it occurred to me that I might like to talk about other things once in a while as well, because apparently it is considered healthy to have other interests. I guess. Whatever. And someone offered me a space, and so I figured what the hell.

The blog is here, and the first entry is, well... See, someone who shall remain unnamed wanted to know if it was possible to rewrite "It's a Small World" with profanity. And I decided to oblige, because I'm a good friend that way. And a horrible person. Go see just how horrible.

The layout is... odd, in that it looks like a wiki. So, if you find yourself clicking on links and going strange places, well, that's normal. I'd try to be helpful and explain, except I haven't really got it all figured out just yet.

While you're there, you should also take a look at the other blog. I had been trying to persuade my friend to set up a blog for a while now, and I suspect I wasn't the only one, and so now here it is.

Share and Enjoy.

musician, tune thyself

I am more or less convinced that my intonation sucks.

"But," you may be saying, "aren't you convinced that everything about your playing sucks?"

To which I can only reply, "Well, yes, but this one has some interesting specifics."¹

The specifics are thus:

1. I and most of my colleagues have been trained to listen and adjust at all times. I have personally been told several times that if it sounds out of tune, I should simply assume that it is me, and adjust accordingly. Now, I don't actually disagree with this reasoning, but it does mean that I have essentially been trained to always assume that I am out of tune.²

2. There is no excuse for me to be out of tune. Okay, yes, this applies to all instruments (except perhaps piano-like instruments and most percussion). But, I have less excuse than most. My instrument is essentially a bell and a tuning slide.

3. I do not play in groups with great intonation. I'm sorry, but it's true.³ Which means I spend rehearsals frantically fishing around with the slide, trying to find someone or something to match if at all possible. If it's any consolation, I personally own recordings of the world's top orchestras playing out of tune, so apparently it is a problem that doesn't go away.⁴

4. Does the orchestra play at A=440? Maybe they play at 441. Or 442. OH GOD MUST KNOW NOW. I always smile a bit when I get info for an audition and they include the orchestra's tuning, because I have to wonder... if the orchestra tunes to 442 and I walk into the audition playing at 440, what happens? Is there someone back there zealously hovering over a tuner? Is that why I don't advance?⁵ Can someone find me two recordings, of the same piece and the same group, in which one is played at 440 and the other at, say, 444 or something? Because I'd love to listen to both, just to see if I could discern a difference.⁶ To make things more complicated, there are also things like this floating around.⁷

5. The math doesn't help. Yes, it's good to know the tendencies. Major 3rds go down, minor 3rds go up, the F partial is naturally sharp, blah blah blah. But it doesn't help me to know that a major 3rd is exactly 14 cents flatter than equal temperament, because I haven't a clue how to translate that into something of practical use. I play trombone, and intelligence was not in the job description. Are there people out there who can say "oh, of course, 14 cents" and then they are magically in tune? And if so can I meet them?

6. Melodic vs. harmonic intonation. I am so not discussing this. At all.

I've probably missed a few. Intonation is rocky territory, after all. It causes fights, and occasionally bitter, bitter rivalries.⁸

What does this mean for me, then? It means that if the group that I am playing with sounds out of tune, I assume it is me and attempt to change it. It is ultimately futile, and we stay out of tune. And if we sound in tune... then, well, I obviously can't trust my ears, because what are the chances that we actually are in tune? Clearly I am still out of tune, except now I can't tell because my ears aren't developed enough.

I will forever be insecure about my intonation. As far as I can tell, this is encouraged by music teachers in order to avoid complacency. I am wholly sympathetic to their reasoning, and have been known to encourage it myself, but I have yet to figure out how to deal with the side effects.

So what do I do? I listen and adjust as best I can. I practice scales. I have a drone CD. I have a tuner. Occasionally I remember to record myself, even though I have yet to hear anything helpful on my crappy $20 tape recorder.⁹ I try to find recordings that exemplify good intonation, although my inability to trust my own ears makes it hard to identify such.

I am trying to train my ears. I don't know how long it'll take before I believe what they tell me. Perhaps I never really will. Perhaps that's how it ought to be.

1. By 'interesting' I don't actually mean interesting. I actually mean 'something that I can ramble about for a bit,' and so the rest of you get to suffer.[↩]


2. It is a simple fact that if the group is out of tune and someone insists that they are, in fact, in tune, that they assuredly are not. There are no exceptions to this.[↩]


3. I criticize because I love.[↩]


4. Some other time, perhaps, I will talk about my Solti/Chicago recording of Mahler 3 and my Crisis of Faith... but not today.[↩]


5. Answer: no.[↩]


6. Most of this is irrelevant, because as mentioned earlier none of the groups I play with ever stay with the tuning that they start with. Most don't even start at the same place, much to the chagrin of the principal oboist.[↩]


7. People send me these things, I swear. I don't go looking for them.[↩]


8. There are stories I could tell, but they would require me to name names, and so I shan't.[↩]


9. It helps me to spot rhythm and time discrepancies, but it tells me almost nothing about pitch. Or I just suck at listening. Yeah, that's probably it.[↩]

no, still no original content... sorry

Listen when no one is speaking, for something is still being said. Speak when no one is listening, for you will still be heard.

-Anonymous

I really have nothing original to say here, except that if you have ever fancied yourself as being even the slightest bit creative, I recommend you set aside 20 minutes and watch this. She's got some interesting ideas.