Labyrinth, 12/30/08

I finally got my drill press put together yesterday, and had a blast all afternoon drilling things.

My main goal was to get a little trio of lighting fixtures done. Here they are:

There’s a piece of rebar driven into the ground, and each of the paving stones has a hole drilled through its center. I have probably given myself lung cancer doing it. (I bought dust masks today.)

The white tubes are actually plastic tubes from my wide-format printer at school, i.e., the “poster printer.” It prints on 24″-wide rolls, and these are at the center. It dawned on me that a candle sitting inside one of these would light up the whole tube.

The tubes are sitting in pieces of wood, through which I have drilled enormous holes in the top half, and smaller holes in the bottoms to fit onto the rebar. The number of drill bits I have added to my collection is very impressive.

So now I have these three lights sitting in an attractive little grouping over in the ivy. I’ll test them tonight, and if they’re as lovely as I hope, I can make more.

Yesterday morning there was an enormous branch down off the pecan tree in the First Baptist parking lot. I retrieved it for firewood, but it was doing a nice zen number, so I dragged it out to the middle of the labyrinth for a while:

It is very marvelous at night, when light from the house hits it and it glows dimly white, its fractal probings of the darkness contrasting starkly with the geometry of the labyrinth paths. It reminds me of the White Tree of Minas Tirith, actually.

In the upper right of that photo, you can see what I did today for the most part: haul dirt down the driveway again and build up the northern sweep of the labyrinth. It’s a lot more level now, although you probably cannot tell from the photo. I have some dirt still left over; I may use it to shore up the northern end, or perhaps the western rim. Don’t know yet.

Also today, in the same vein as the light tubes, I built wooden holders for cans of Sterno. These will sit on the little plinths at the ends of the arms of the labyrinths and flame brightly. Until someone is scorched. I’d actually like to built the tower/columsn I’ve discussed previously, and put the flames on top of them. If I could be sure they wouldn’t be knocked against, spilling flaming Sterno on drunken and barefoot labyrintheers.

Musings

I don’t have a coherent post to offer today, just random thoughts.

I’ve been having a recurring dream for the past few days. It’s annoying and I can’t figure out why I’m fixating on this particular image. It involves the Union Jack and its components somehow: I am usually trying to explain the pieces, or assemble the pieces, or explain how to assemble the pieces, or something. I’m not clear on what’s going on, and I’m thinking the dream itself is not very linear.

Sometimes a little girl is involved (hush, Jeff), sometimes a large group (hush, Jobie). The overriding feeling is one of frustration, but since I don’t have any clear (waking) idea of what I’m trying to accomplish, I’m not sure what the frustration is about. It’s entirely possible that not knowing what I’m trying to do in the dream is the frustration.

The easy symbolism is that it’s a metaphor for my composing. I know what the pieces are and have some idea of how they go together, but I don’t know enough to actually assemble them. What the little girl has to do with it, I have no idea. It’s like Faulkner’s Little Sister Death that I mentioned the other night at the Lichtenbergian Annual Meeting: in the face of some college student’s question, he claimed not even to remember the character in The Sound and the Fury. (I think I placed her in Absalom, Absalom at the meeting, but I got the character Quentin Compson right.)

As for the Lichtenbergian Annual Meeting, let’s just say that I was the essential Lichtenbergian: of the seven goals that I had listed at last year’s meeting, I had accomplished not one. The ones I can remember are picking up painting again; completing the symphony; completing the songs for A Day in the Moonlight; writing a trio for piano, trombone and saxophone; and getting some pieces done for a couple of choral competitions. There were two more, but I can’t remember even what they are.

I put off working on Moonlight to work on the symphony. That was scuttled when Czarkowski decided not to return to GHP. I didn’t have time during the summer to work on the trio, and no drive to work on the choral works, and then everything was subordinated to the labyrinth. So there you go.

All the non-Lichtenbergians in my life ask if I just rolled them all over to next year, and the answer is, of course, no. I’m pulling back in a lot of ways. Fewer goals, smaller goals, baby steps. Who knows? Perhaps the symphony will come bursting out of me in January, but I’m not planning for it.

Labyrinth, 12/14/08, afternoon

It is finished.

Notice the holiday votives. I think they’ll be right purty.

Here’s a closeup of the center:

I’ve sunk the bricks into the soil and dug out a little bit of a hole to give the effect.

So, at some point I have to plant grass seed. I’m going to wait until after the rain this week just to see where the water flow issues are.

Tomorrow night I don’t have Masterworks, the dress rehearsal for Thursday’s concert is on Tuesday, so I’ll put together my drill press, finally, and work on some lighting fixtures for the area.

Labyrinth, 12/14/08, morning

At 11:35 this morning, to the strains of the second movement of Mahler’s Symphony No. 2, “Resurrection,” I finished filling in the labyrinth:

I have this much dirt left:

I think I was oversold. However, after lunch I will lay in dirt around the labyrinth so that it actually is part of the landscape rather than rising abruptly from it, and as I’ve mentioned before, shore up the carport. That ought to take the rest of the afternoon.

Labyrinth, 12/14/08, dawn

Here, by dawn’s light, is yesterday’s work:

And here, from the side angle, you can see the northern edge finally complete. I will have to add more dirt around the edges to keep it from collapsing in the rain this week. It feels odd to have it done.

I’m now waiting until 9:00, the time at which I in good conscience can start throwing dirt into the wheelbarrow outside my neighbor’s bedroom window.

There is a distinct possibility that I have too much dirt. The only problem with that is what to do with it to get it out of the driveway today a) so Ginny can park there, and b) it doesn’t turn into mud with the rain predicted for tomorrow. I need to build up the ground next to the carport, so I can probably use all of it there, and the northern edge of the labyrinth can stand a lot more, so I may be OK in terms of having a place to put all of it.

Labyrinth, 12/13/08, afternoon

No pictures, because it was too dark when I finished, and the camera’s battery died.

However, I accomplished exactly my goal for the day: fill in the outer three circuits, raise the outer circuit on the north side to the level of the others, and lay out the final course of paving stones.

It’s done. Tomorrow, I fill in the inner four circuits and set the compass point bricks level in the ground with the granite center.

Labyrinth, 12/13/08, morning

Yesterday afternoon I picked up the granite pieces that form the center of the labyrinth:

After I get all the topsoil laid in, I’ll sink the bricks to the same level as the granite. (The bricks are aligned with the cardinal points of the compass.)

I love the way it reflects the sky. Later I will scoop out a hole in the center, and next summer I will make a bowl to fit in there. It will probably be blue. I like the way the bricks will hang out a little over the bowl (although I haven’t yet thought of a way to make the grooves for the bricks to fit into the bowl, accurate from 225 miles away.)

Here it is in situ:

And finally, this morning, the topsoil was delivered. We ended up dumping it in the driveway:

I began schlepping it to the back yard, after I took a few moments to construct a ramp to get the wheelbarrow down the steps to the level of the labyrinth. It’s lunchtime at the moment, and this is how much I’ve gotten done so far:

I got dirt laid out in the little center gap area, and then started with the path. I’ve done the first circuit, and this afternoon I will start pushing out from there. My goal for today is to get the outer two circuits done, which includes building up the north edge and actually getting the last course of stones laid. I might get some of the central circuits done, but I’m not making that the goal.

In any case, I should be done by Sunday evening.

Too much music

There is too much music. Not mine, of course. Of that stuff, there’s not nearly enough. (The other day, a student asked me how much music I’ve written. According to iTunes, less than two hours worth. Feh.)

No, there’s too much music out there. I say this because as part of my fragmentary composition exercises, I went to iTunes to listen to the opening of Vaughan Williams’ 2nd Symphony, “London.” I don’t own it, and considered buying it, but then I got sidetracked by his 7th, “Sinfonia Antarctica,” a stark work. I bought it, along with his 8th. Then I got distracted by the fact that a movement from Philip Glass’s 4th Symphony, “Heroes,” was the top ringtone.

I knew I owned that, but it was not in my iTunes collection, and then I couldn’t find it on the shelf. So I bought it.

At this point, I think my iTunes collection is officially bigger than my old iPod. And I’m OK with that. The new iPod Classic will store 120GB of music, but the fact is I don’t have that kind of space on my hard drive. I could put it on my external drive, but then my music wouldn’t travel with me on my laptop.

But that’s not what I mean by “too much music.” There’s just too much to listen to and to learn and to know. Right now on my desk are two stacks of CDs, waiting for me to listen to them again and get to know them:

  • Michael Harrison, Revelation, a microtonal thing, I think.
  • Brian Eno, Discreet Music
  • Philip Glass, Symphony No. 8
  • Philip Glass, Symphony No. 3
  • Einojuhani Rautavaara, Angel of Dusk (concerto for double bass)/Symphony No. 2/A Finnish Myth/Fiddlers, one of my favorites of the Baltic group
  • Peter Sculthorpe, Sun Music, Australian composer
  • Michael Danna, Skys, new age, I think
  • Erik Satie, Homage to Satie, his greatest hits
  • Music for Quiet Listening, a “Mercury Living Presence” reissue, featuring music commissioned back in the late 50s/early 60s by one Edward B. Benjamin, the Edward B. Benjamin Award for Restful Music, who apparently like me didn’t truck with the newfangled crap being taught in conservatories at the time
  • another, untitled “Mercury Living Presence” reissue, featuring works by Colin McPhee, Roger Sessions, and Virgil Thomson
  • John Adams, Gnarly Buttons/John’s Book of Alleged Dances
  • Robert Baksa, Flute Sonata/Woodwind Quintet No.1/Quartet for Piano and Winds
  • Sergei Prokofiev, Piano Concerto No. 1 & 3/Bela Bartok, Piano Concerto No. 3

All of these I have listened to once, maybe twice. None have been imported into iTunes. And I just bought three new works to listen to. And I think there’s a small stack of CDs in my van that I’m supposed to be listening to.

The point is that I want to learn this music, especially the stuff that doesn’t appeal to me right away. I want to know it like I know the Beethoven symphonies, to anticipate what comes next. Sometimes that’s nearly impossible with the more atonal “modern” stuff, and sometimes I give up. But mostly I can learn almost anything. So why is there this huge stack on my desk? And why are there even more stacked over by my CD shelving?

It’s lunchtime.

Composing, 12//07/08

I’m trying to get my brain back into “composer” mode, and to do that I’m putting myself back on a schedule, Sunday mornings and Tuesday evenings.

Further, as I listen to music in iTunes or elsewhere, I pay attention to structure, orchestration, etc., and make a note. I’m assigning these notes as “fragment exercises” for the duration. In other words, I’m not actually composing right now, I’m just using other people’s stuff as a model. In other other words, I’m copying. Think of it as a Renzuli phase II lesson. I certainly am.

My goal is simply to slap something up, to pour out the garbage and learn from hearing the stuff.

So, today’s fragment number 1 was “string arpeggios, agitato.” I think I was listening to the soundtrack for Pride & Prejudice.

(UPDATE: Each mp3 contains measures and measures of empty space at the end. Feel free to stop it and move on when the music stops. However, #3 does have one measure of silence after the first phrase. And I don’t know why #2 sounds so choppy.)

Here’s the mp3.

You will of course be alert to my dilemma this morning: this is actually pretty good. Do I keep working on it, only to bog down later, or just toss it aside and keep going? I worked a while on it, but decided to stop and move on. After all, the good work always waits.

Fragment number 2: “meandering chromatic piano line, high string accompaniment.” Again, I think this was the Pride & Prejudice soundtrack: mp3

Fragment number 3: “open fifths in strings, whole notes; countermelody in cellos/basses.” From the opening of Vaughan Williams’ Symphony #2, “London”: mp3

Fragments 2 and 3 are not as successful, but I think I got some interesting bits, like one measure or so in each. That’s all I’m after.

And so my morning ended.