Cello sonata, second mvt., take 1

This is pretty sad: six measures of music, and it sounds nothing like I want the final piece to sound like.

For one thing, the computer cannot duplicate all the myriad voices the cello is capable of. This movement is marked as “dry, coarse,” and I want a kind of raspy, gross quality to the bowing. So you will have to imagine that.

You will also have to imagine that the piece is played almost without a time signature, belabored, halting, grinding. I can’t replicate that either.

With that in mind, here is the current end of the second movement.

I wrote the ending because it has to lead into the stream of the third movement.

In which I declare my support for a certain part-time Alaskan governor

I posted this on Facebook, but I think I need to record it for posterity here. Plus you never know how many out of my thousands of readers are not on Facebook.

It appears that John McCain‘s running mate has applied to register her name as a trademark. I am not making this up, because I don’t have to.

I wish to declare for all the world to see that I support her in this, and in fact, I am going to don my Trademark Police uniform and make sure that any time I see her name in print, I will correct anyone who does not print it correctly, i.e., Sarah Palin®.

Of course, as soon as the news broke, the application was refused, but I blame this on the lamestream media and the leftist establishment. I see no reason not to give Sarah Palin® what she wants on this one.

This way, no one in America will be unclear in the least about Sarah Palin® and her goals, not to mention her intent to rake in all the cash that’s out there in this great land of ours. And I think we should be clear about that.

So, Sarah Palin®, here’s to you! May you forever remain as secure a brand as Aunt Jemima®, Betty Crocker®, and Mr. Peanut®!

update: Sarah Palin®, speaking to the Christian Broadcasting Network, criticized the media, saying, “I want to help clean up the state that is so sorry today of journalism.” I don’t think I could have said it better for her.

Cello sonata. Again.

I’ve been not composing. At first it was the backwash of the first movement, that ‘turning of the tide’ I’ve written about before. Then it was the hectic time we call ‘GHP interviews.’ Now it’s ‘being sick doesn’t help and I can’t remember the great music I dreamed under the influence of medication.’

Still, I’ve marked it on my calendar to get back to work tomorrow night on the second movement, and today I decided that the eftest thing to do is to write the last eight measures, since I have a pretty clear idea of what I want to say there. Then I can work my way backward to the beginning.

Also, since I have about four minutes in the first movement, and the last movement is likely to be that long, I can plan for the middle movement to be about three. Since it’s going to be an adagio, something slow, that eight measures could be a pretty good chunk to be going on with.

Yep, that’s my plan, all right.

A small but profound rant, and other thoughts

It has not escaped my notice that when conservatives put forth plans to fix our public schools, they do not involve actually fixing the public schools. More and more standardized testing, charter schools, or vouchers: which of these involves actually taking a failing school—and let’s just point to an honest-to-goodness failing school in some inner city somewhere—and solving the problems it faces in providing a free and appropriate education to the young minds trapped there?

I have a problem with that.

In other news, my media center has been undergoing a complete technological facelift.

I’ve always stayed ahead of the curve on the technology thing, all the way back to the Apple ][e’s that Alan Wood bought me for the media center in the old East Coweta High. I made the technology readily available to the students and trained them how to use it, even to program in AppleBasic. I myself, as I’m sure I’ve said around here somewhere, programmed a word processor, a card catalog printing program, and an overdue fines/notice program that everyone in the county used until the state automated us in the late 1980s.

For the last ten years, the school system has declined to purchase Apple Macintosh computers, for reasons which we will not go into here. As the years slipped by, all the elementary schools (including mine) began to divest themselves of their iMacs, the old candy-colored winners from the 90s. And they all came to me, because I refused to give them up.

For one thing, they still ran, and they were still more reliable than all the crappy Dells flooding the county. For another, I was still able to use HyperCard (‡‡‡) to create some really useful educational tools. And finally, while other media centers might have six look-up stations, I had twenty-six. Woof!

However, a decade is a decade, and the poor things began to wheeze and complain about the bulky internet pages they were having to deal with. So I began to campaign for new computers. Two years ago, after holding my breath and turning blue, I was finally awarded six new iMacs, the first instructional Macs in a regular school setting in forever.

So I began to campaign for more. I was able to demonstrate to the powers that be how well they integrated into the network, give or take a few hurdles set up by the IT Crowd themselves due to the nature of the insecure network of PCs they have to manage.

To make an uninteresting story short, I got the money for two new iMacs from our PTO, plus a new printer, which was necessitated by the death of my old Apple LaserPrinter 16/600, after eleven years of solid service. The iMacs came last week, and the printer came yesterday.

But wait, there’s more: we were suddenly able to use some Title I money to purchase twelve iPads. I will soon have two instructional computers for each of my six tables. This should be interesting, given the real power of the things—and their real limitations. It would have been nice, for example, to have known about the money for the iPads before I ordered a new printer, because they will immediately print to an AirPrint-compatible printer, of which there are currently maybe eight, all made by Hewlett-Packard.

Oh well. I don’t think that’s something I get to complain about, having twenty Apple computers at my disposal.

However, there is something very sad about unplugging those trusty little iMacs for the last time and lugging them over to the wall, to be disposed of. And I had to say a few words over the LaserPrinter. I felt like a criminal pulling the plug on it.

Now that I’m slowly returning to the Land of the Drinking (my stomach issues have largely prevented the consumption of any alcohol) I’ve been playing around with some cocktails. At the moment, I’m experimenting with apple juice, my recent liquid of choice.

I’m not sure about this one. I’m halfway through my first attempt, and it may be a bit cloying. I’ll adjust tomorrow and try again if necessary.

YELLOW FAIRY

1/2 oz. Galliano

3 oz. apple juice

2 drops absinthe

Shake the Galliano and apple juice with ice; strain into martini glass. Add the drops of absinthe.

This weekend interviews/auditions for the 2011 Governor’s Honors Program begin. I’m once again in charge of the theatre interviews at Pebblebrook High School. I was asked also this year to corral and confirm the interviewers, and if no one backs out between now and Saturday morning, I will have the full complement of 35, which is a first for several years.

I have applied to teach either Theatre or CommArts this summer, and I’m adamant that I don’t care which. It’s been kind of fun to have both Jobie and Mike desire me. Of course, there’s no guarantee I will be offered a position since I took last summer off, but honey, please. Does that make me nervous? Yes.

I should write a post about the coursework I’ve planned for each department. Maybe later.

Excelsior.

I opened two new files last night, one labeled “ii. adagio,” and the other, of course, “ii. adagio ideas.” I threw some notes at the screen, but nothing definitive emerged.

This is the second movement of the cello sonata. I’ve already started the third, of course, but I’m pretty sure I need to look at bridging the headlong rush at the end of the Moderato to the gentle, flowing relief of the Andante.

I know what I want: the piano providing some kind of transparent, crystalline structure through which the cello wanders like a ghost, ending in the sludge at the lowest register, grinding to a halt. I keep thinking that the cello’s harmonics are the sound I need, but Finale doesn’t play them back so I’d be flying blind as it were.

Still, I’ve begun.

Cello Sonata No. 1: I. Moderato

I think the first movement of the Cello Sonata No. 1 is finished.

I. Moderato score [pdf] | mp3

Comments? Suggestions? I’m going to let it percolate for a few days before sending it to Stephen.

update, 1/19/11: There was one measure that was really bugging me. If you listened to this yesterday, it probably bugged you, too. I have fixed it. This movement is now finished. Now let’s find out what its dedicatee thinks about it.

A bit of snark

Glen Beck has urged Sarah Palin to make sure she has beefed up security for herself and her family, because, and I quote:

An attempt on you could bring the republic down.

I’d like to assure Mr. Beck that he can sleep easy, because even if something happens to Mrs. Palin, we still have Snooki.

Reading

I’ve written about this before, but I’ve refined my ideas and wanted to write about them.

Here’s the basic idea: I print a poster about once a week to show what I’ve been reading. It shows what I’m reading now, what I’ve just finished, and what I plan to read next.

Since I started this, about a year ago, I’ve beefed up the “What I’ve Read Recently” section. I’ve added the star ratings and the reviews so that they mirror our catalog software. Kids can write reviews and rate books in the catalog; I do the same with the books I feature on my posters.

I’ve also added little tags to inform the kids (and teachers) further. There’s the “100 Book Club” tag, which lets the kids know that it’s one of the “best” books in the media center. The “New!” badge is self-explanatory, as is the “Grown-Up Book” tag.

The main purpose of the poster is to show the kids what a really good reader does, the pattern and flow of a life of reading. They can see that I’m looking ahead to what I want to read (and do the same themselves with their personal pages in the catalog). They can see that I may have multiple books going on at one time. They can see that some books move through quickly, while others will hang around a long time. If they’re clever, they can see that I may abandon a book, and that it may return at a later date.

Each time I put up a new poster, I clip out the little Recent books at the bottom and staple them across the top of the bulletin board as a kind of reading record:

I also clip the Recent books and their reviews and put them over to the side for the life of the new poster. After that, I take them out to the shelf and tape them up where the book itself resides:

That way, my insidious plan to lure kids into a lifelong habit of reading has a longer shelf life. Ha. See what I did there?