Category: Creativity

Creating something every day for 365 days

Dance for Double Bass (Day 351/365)

Posted on by Dale

The last full day here in the Land of Pan-Dimensional Mice, and it’s a pretty sad time. I’ll talk about that tomorrow, perhaps.

We end it all with the Prism II concert, wherein the music department dazzles us with dozens of pieces. This year, it was not just good, it was phenomenal. All the pieces were well performed and well selected. They ended with the orchestra playing St.-Saëns’ “Bacchanale,” which is rousing good fun, followed by a “mosaic” of each of the areas playing a brief part of some piece from the summer. I was okay till the brass played their piece. It’s a sombre, gorgeous piece, and I don’t know the name of it, and I began to melt. The pianists gathered round Clara Starkweather, and she played the Rachmaninov. I began to squint. The vocal majors sang “Everything I Own,” and that did it. The kids onstage were crying, Kay next to me was crying, I was crying. I cannot type this without crying.

Here are my boys: Alex Edwards, Viet Cuong, and Jack Meisburg. This is before the concert. I had sneaked in the stage door, avoiding the crowd of 800+ people who were stuffed into the halls and heating the area up to 98.6° and beyond.

As you can tell, they’re pleased and excited to be giving the world premiere of “Dance for Double Bass Duo and Marimba.” I must say, I was pleased and excited for them.

It was about two-thirds of the way through the concert, and it was good. I was sitting under the marimba, almost, so the balance was a little off for me, but the double basses played with éclat and accuracy.

The piece is marked “dangerously,” and I think they did a nice job of pushing their tone into that area. Viet nailed the bravura passage at the end. It would have sounded a bit better, perhaps, if they had been on the stage rather than in the VIP/handicapped seating area at the back of Whitehead, but that’s quibbling.

So that was exciting. After the concert, I went backstage to congratulate them, picking my way through the sobbing musicians. Viet, who had become a star in his own right with a killer xylophone piece, was beaming. Jack was a little moist around the edges. Alex was comforting Jason, who was doubled over a music stand in grief. I expressed my thanks, and they were all over-grateful in their response. It was my pleasure.

Here we all are together:

14 days to go.

Milky Way (Day 350/365)

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At 11:00, I went to the chorus room and worked with the vocal majors on “Blake Leads a Walk on the Milky Way.” They learned it quickly and it sounded good. They seemed to enjoy it and appreciate it.

At 11:30, we moved into Whitehead Auditorium, where the orchestra was just beginning to sightread the piece. There were too many woodwinds, which I gently fixed, and there were issues with the legato-ness of the playing, which I can correct in the score. All the arpeggiation in the cellos was a problem as well.

Other problems for the reading were the multiple time signatures and the players trying to count their rests. Also, Stephen was conducting in 9 or 12; maybe this was helpful for subdividing the triplets, but it was confusing to me and the choir.

In short, we didn’t get a solid reading of the piece in the short time we had available. Still, it was fun to hear an orchestra working on it, and I think they would have been able to knock it out of the ballpark if they’d had the usual Czarkowski treatment of it.

They ended up playing Alex Depew’s “Winds of Autumn,” and it was quite lovely. They were a little further along with his piece than mine, since it was simpler to play. I wish Stephen had it a little more polished, because it would be entirely appropriate to play at Convocation as the concluding piece.

Nearly a mug (Day 349/365)

Posted on by Dale

The mug was fired and ready for glazing, so I made my way to the ceramics studio. One of VSU’s ceramics guys, Michael WhoselastnameI’llgetlater, was preparing to do a “soda firing,” and both Andy and Harry encouraged me to hop into that firing. I would be very happy with the finish, they said.

Even knowing that they would just rather not do another firing in another kiln now that everything is cleaned up and packed away, I trust their aesthetic judgment. I glazed the inside with a basic black glaze, and in it went.

In other “here at the end of all things” news, Stephen will be reading through “Milky Way” with the orchestra tomorrow at 11:30. At lunch, I wrangled an invitation from David to come teach the piece to the vocal majors at 11:00.

I always forget how hectic and tiring the last week is for me. Everybody else is coasting, enjoying the kids, enjoying the evenings, winding things up, and I’m scrambling trying to catch all the events, getting speakers and directories prepared, and endless exit interviews in the evenings.

Nothing, really (Day 348/365)

Posted on by Dale

As you can imagine, the day after a fire closes your Fine Arts building is a bit busy. As fate would have it, damage was minimal and confined to Sawyer Theatre, so after gathering all the fine arts majors in the Old Gym, we were able to release everyone to go their regular classroom, give or take the dance majors.

Power was still off in Whitehead Auditorium, so no orchestra, so no “Milky Way.” That was disappointing.

I did get to go over “Dance” again with the bassists and marimbist. I think they’re going to do quite well, and the piece should be well-received. The boys certainly seem to like it.

This afternoon the vocal majors had their Rotunda concert, in which they fill the dome of West Hall Rotunda with glorious a capella music. Tonight the art exhibit opened, and it’s quite good. I’ll try to go back tomorrow and take some photos to share.

In the meantime, here are some Hogwarts photos from last Saturday:

First of all, me in complete Snape drag.

The whole Hogwarts gang [Sibyl Trelawney, Minerva McGonagall, Albus Dumbledore, Rita Skeeter, Gilderoy Lockhart, Moaning Myrtle, Harry Potter, Rubeus Hagrid, Nymphadora “Don’t Call Me That!” Tonks, and Severus Snape.]

Albus Dumbledore in the lobby of our dorm.

Sibyl Trelawney. Notice the sherry bottle. She wandered around the dining hall, incanting predictions.

Hagrid arrives in the lobby. Dave has neither read the books nor seen the movies.

Myrtle and Rita pose at the head table.

Myrtle, Rita, and Harry chow down while flashes are going off all around them. Quoth Myrtle: “I could get used to being famous.”

Gilderoy Lockhart, posing, as usual, with his new book, Yes, It’s Me! He also handed out bookmarks and coerced students into having their photos made with him. Chris actually made most of this outfit since last summer’s Hogwarts event. (Nadine, who was Mrs. Weasley last year but elected to be our photographer this year, has sworn that she will have a pink wool suit by September and be ready for Delores Umbridge next summer.)

Prof. McGonagall and Tonks at the head table.

Dumbledore with some of his fans.

Most of the head table.

A Soc Stud gets sorted. This one was Slytherin. All the best people, you know.

This Spanish major is one of our speakers for Convocation this Saturday. Notice her crossed fingers. Also notice, in the background, Gilderoy posing for a photo with a student.

At the Grand Ball on Sunday night, some of the kids were laughing at themselves, saying that on their MySpace page, “You Know You Belong at Nerd Camp,” they needed to put “… if your teachers dress up like Harry Potter characters,” followed by, “…and you think it’s the coolest thing you’ve ever seen.” They said this as they were filling out their dance cards in preparation to spending their evening dancing the waltz, foxtrot, and English country dance. Indeed.

Ends and beginnings (Day 347/365)

Posted on by Dale

The day began and ended with a bang: an emergency Caesarean and a fire.

In between, though, I accomplished a few things. In the morning, I got the copies of the score and parts of “Dance : for double bass duo & marimba” run off, collated, autographed, and distributed to the three players and two instructors who are making it happen.

I also ran off a set for the GHP music collection in the library. Being a good librarian, I rooted around in the Library of Congress catalog for examples of sheet music. Then I prepared the beginnings of a MARC record for the cataloging people over in Odum Library.

This is convoluted, but bear with me: while looking for a couple of pieces in the library a couple of weeks ago, I happened upon a brass ensemble piece by Einojuhani Rautavaara, one of my favorite composers. In my Library of Congress search, I decided to look that up, since I knew it was cataloged with score and parts. (Why not just use the Odum catalog? The LC catalog allows you to view the actual MARC record with all its little tags.)

Then I looked up DOUBLE BASS MUSIC as a subject heading, and began studying those records. I printed one out to use as a model for my MARC record and was halfway through constructing it when I realized what I was looking at: a Rautavaara double bass concerto! I was floored at the serendipity. I gave it a listen at the iTunes music store, then ordered it via Amazon. Cool.

During the afternoon, I prepared a lesson for Jennifer Cole’s “Math and the Arts” class on the foundations of music: the overtone series and how it gives us the twelve notes of our western scale; tunings, including equal temperament; keys, key signatures, and the circle of fifths. All multi-media, of course.

So I covered both the beginnings of music and its end, in a published score.

Yes, yes, I know, the end is the performance, but give me break. It’s been a long and weird day. It started at 12:30 in the morning when we rushed Suzette Hermann to the hospital. We just thought that having a fully pregnant instructor was a first. Little did we know. Short version: her little girl was delivered by c-section, stabilized, and transported to Macon for higher level care. Suzette remains in the hospital. Both are going to be OK.

If only that had been all, it still would have been a good day. It ended with a fire in Sawyer Theatre, where Justin Horn was setting lights for the dance concert. We don’t know exactly yet how it started but Justin acted promptly in pulling the fire curtain, calling 911, and evacuating the building. We think at this point the damage is limited and is mostly smoke and water.

However, the Fine Arts Building has been shut down at least for tomorrow. Which means, of course, that the reading of “Milky Way” is probably down the tubes. This is the least of the program’s concerns, and I am being churlish to mention it. I feel more badly for Alex Depew, the horn player whose piece was also being read, than I do for me. And of course for the dance majors, whose concert is seriously threatened, and all the other fabulous things which are scheduled for the next five days in that building.

The mug, day 5 (Day 346/365)

Posted on by Dale

Morning report:

After a couple cups of coffee, I toddled down to the ceramics studio to work on my mug. You will recall, perhaps, that my decorative goal was to replicate the stone carving labyrinth on the side of the mug.

In the previous two versions of the mug, I went ahead and carved the labyrinth while the clay was still moist and workable. This didn’t work as well as I had hoped, because in the course of finishing the mug, I’d mush the labyrinth a bit and have to re-carve parts of it on a regular basis. So yesterday I decided to let it dry a bit and then carve the labyrinth. This morning seemed the opportune time to get it done.

The mug had completely set up, so there was no question of messing it up by handling it. I grabbed my little tools and a water spray bottle and got to work.

Here’s what I found interesting: whereas previously I just scooped out the wet clay, now I was actually having to carve the path of the labyrinth into the dry surface. I had to proceed slowly so as not to break the path outlines, and although I could wet the surface to make it a little easier, I was still scratching a little bit at a time. And that was more or less what the original artist/priest/person did on the prehistoric rock carving from Spain.

Another difference was that in the wet clay I was able to draw out the entire labyrinth and then follow the path. In the dry clay, I had to plan how to scratch the paths so that they hooked up and flowed correctly. I ended up drawing it on a piece of paper and shading in the paths I had done.

I started in the center with the round mound and proceeded outward. It was interesting that after I got the first three rounds done, I began to realize that the figure was placed so high on the mug that I would run out of room for the last four rounds. So, just like the prehistoric artist before me, I had to make the last four rounds a lot thinner than the rest of the course. I went ahead and scratched in those four thin lines at the top; that made sure that everything cohered and jumped.

The bottom part was another challenge. One reason I chose this particular petroglyph as a tattoo was its solution of the opening of the labyrinth: a rather phallic entrance area, flanked by a squarish area (with a breast-like engraving in it) and a semicircular area. As I approached that area, I wished I had printed out a copy of the thing to bring with me so I could approximate it as closely as possible.

Then, of course, it dawned on me that I had a copy on me. Literally. I just pulled up my shorts and studied my upper thigh. Should have done it sooner, because the balance of the thing that appeals to me so much relies on a specific shaping of the courses, but you know what? This one is mine.

Here’s a photo:

It has to be fired, which will shrink it a bit more, and then glazed. I’m thinking a dark greenish glaze, if one is available.

My only concern at this point, other than hoping I got the clay right throughout so that it doesn’t blow up in the kiln, is that the etching is deep enough for the labyrinth to show up through the glaze. I’m pretty sure I’m going to lose the dot and line in the bottom left area. Maybe I can paint that one with glaze. I’ll check with Andy.

The mug, day 4, et al. (Day 345/365)

Posted on by Dale

This morning I went back to the studio and made another mug. I worked smarter, using a thinner slab and more appropriate construction techniques. I also left the etching of the labyrinth until tomorrow, when the thing has dried a bit.

It appears to be a much more within-limits size.

I also met with the double bassists and the marimbist to go over my piece. That was fun. The boys had learned it well, and responded very well to my direction on attacks and phrasing. Ryan Smith, the percussion teacher, was there, and Stephen dropped in soon. Between us all, we hammered it out. I think it’s going to be more than acceptable.

The notation issues Ryan had mentioned to me previously turned out to be very simple. Near the end, I gave the marimba some sixteenth-note arpeggios, the same pattern over and over, and just to make it an interesting challenge, I left out notes here and there. Ryan pointed out to me that it was hard to read (which I thought when I wrote it) and suggested that instead of a sixteenth note followed by a sixteenth rest, why not just make it an eighth note? The marimba can’t sustain it anyway, and it would be a lot easier to count. Duh.

I’m going to print out a complete score and parts for all concerned, with the names of the boys listed as “first performed by.”

They’ve scheduled the world premiere for next Friday’s Prism II concert, which is super cool. This is actually the first time I’ve written a piece that is being performed without my being the one who schedules it.

The rest of the afternoon was spent being busy preparing end-of-program paperwork: evaluations for students, evaluations for faculty, dance cards for the Grand Ball on Sunday night.

And then it was finally time for the faculty’s surprise present for the students. The theme for tonight’s dance is “Versus,” which can be interpreted any way you wish: good vs. evil, paper vs. plastic, and in one genius RA combo, sandwich vs. Mary Kate. Having failed to get our act together for the “Fantasy” theme dance, we decided we could use this one for our Hogwarts staff night.

So at 5:00, we began to gather in the lobby: Professors McGonagall, Trelawney, Snape, Lockhart; Albus Dumbledore, Hagrid, Harry; Rita Skeeter, Moaning Myrtle, Tonks. We made our way, in the rain, over to the dining hall, where the reaction was immediate. These sophisticated, oh-so-cool 17-year-olds reverted to their 10-year-old selves without batting an eye. Cameras appeared from nowhere. We were rock stars. They wanted pictures of us, with us, with their friends. (Gilderoy, of course, ate it up, handing out bookmarks for his new book.)

They giggled with delight when I (Snape, of course) snarled at them and ordered them around. They lined up, lined up!, to be sorted by McGonagall and the Sorting Hat. They declared that their lives were now complete, having experienced the ultimate nerdgasm.

It truly was a lot of fun. We did this last year, when the Palms was under renovation and we were being fed in the Old Gym. From day one we called it the Great Hall (when we weren’t calling it worse), and Bill McCullough suggested that we all dress up as Hogwarts faculty for dinner on the day of the fantasy dance. Justin Keith printed out huge house banners, which we hung from the basketball goals, and we set up the head table on the stage.

Like this year, the kids went nuts. I had one request for a photo of “the murderer and his victim,” so Michael Jenkins (Dumbledore) and I stood together, and suddenly there was this long line of kids waiting to take our picture. It was such a hit that we decided to make it an annual thing.

The fun of the thing is that it’s a surprise. We don’t tell the kids it’s happening, and so it’s great to watch their faces as they come into the dining hall and begin to realize what we’ve done. Cell phones come out, and suddenly the place is full. Makes it very hard to get around in my voluminous cape, and the immediate, heartfelt apologies I get from kids who step on it are a hoot.

The faculty has just as much fun. Those who were new to the game this year responded just like last year’s team: they went as all out as they could in putting together their costumes, actually sewing things.

The most amusing were Dave Francis and Tamara Brooks, two Comm Arts teachers who have neither read the books nor seen the movies, yeah, I know, but otherwise they’re brilliant teachers, so whattaya gonna do?, who were completely taken aback at the response of the kids. Especially since neither of them knew anything at all about Hagrid and Moaning Myrtle respectively. Tamara only discovered she was dead and lived in a toilet on the way out the door.

I’ll post photos when I get them.

20 days to go.

The mug, day 2 (Day 343/365)

Posted on by Dale

I went to check on my mug today, and it’s enormous. It’s a vase. It has not shrunk at all.

Nevertheless, I took it down off the drying shelf and worked on the labyrinth, cleaning that up. I didn’t have a lot of time, but I got that done.

Tomorrow, I’ll have to go in and whittle down the handle. Or maybe start over.

Actually, tomorrow I get to sit in on a runthrough of “Dance” for double bass duo and marimba.

And now for something completely different (Day 342/365)

Posted on by Dale

I roused myself this afternoon and went to the ceramics studio, where I made a mug.

Here’s the deal: twenty years ago (!) I made a mug at GHP. It’s quite a lovely thing. Here it is:

It’s very beautiful. I think it at least approaches, if not attains, wabi-sabi.

So I figure, what the heck, every twenty years, I’ll make a mug. It’s good if you can be creative on a schedule.

I‘m not sure how this new one is going to turn out. I calculated for shrinkage (13%), and aimed for a mug 3.5″ across and about 6″ high. I engraved a seven-circuit labyrinth on it and attached a big thick handle. That’s where I left it, to dry a bit.

It seems awfully big and clunky, not unlike the second mug I made in 1988 or so, which didn’t shrink as much as I needed it to and remains a big huge heavy ugly thing which sits in the back of the cabinet and never comes out.

In fact, I made this one once, didn’t like it, and crunched it and started over. Andy was kind enough to stop by and give me a couple of construction tips that helped a little, but basically it’s too big. But who knows, maybe it will shrink to my calculated size by tomorrow and I can buff up the labyrinth engraving a little and fire it.

If it doesn’t actually fall apart. I’m not sure that I got all the joints joined together. If there are air pockets embedded where there should be clay, the whole thing could just crack apart in the kiln. That would throw me off my twenty-year schedule.

But if working here for 20+ years has taught me anything, it’s that art is what you salvage when you stop working on it. We’ll take another look tomorrow and see if I’ve managed any art at all.