A Sunny Rainstorm for you

Sun filled rainstorm

Tactile Luminosity

Hand-drawn graphite border

(Lit from Within)

there was an amazing sunny rainstorm today on my way home from teaching (last three weeks here! no more teaching for a few months. yes!) I've begun the daunting and slightly overwhelming task of sorting through my apartment, selling stuff, and donating the rest of it. 800 square feet allows one to spread out one's stuff, and to live in the illusion that one will always have that space (false.) However, I'm trying to take a no prisoners approach to cleaning my apartment-I have a large pile of clothing amassed in the last 9 years, and it's time to get ride of some of those high school duds, even if they fit. I'm thinking a little photographic wake is the best way to send them on their way. Photos to follow, I suppose.

what's most exciting though, is that I have nowhere that I really need to be right now. i have to teach a few lessons here and there, but otherwise, I'm free to be my own agent, and that's rather exhilarating. I don't have too many friends here right now, so I'm really just vegging out, and appreciating the silence and the opportunity to stay in bed late, and nibble on peanut butter chips at night time while drinking white wine and watching the tele. Other points of business are things that I've been observing on the internet(s)-I've been indulging in the internet time now that it works again. Here are some of the finest things I've found lately:

Levi's Pioneer sessions: never did I think that a folksy cover of a disco song could be successful! The covers that have come out are Dirty Projectors, She & Him, and the Swell Season.

Shop Ruche- a great website, like modcloth, but cheaper and ecofriendly.

My boys, (not grizzly bear. my other boys.) Vampire Weekend, have a new video out, which is pretty 80's tastic, and it makes me laugh, because they look hysterical, and only one of them looks decent with the wig. Clearly, John Malkovich had to work harder in "Dangerous Liasions" than anyone else knew.

Urban Outfitters: duh, they sometimes have good stuff, but online, it's amazing! everything is organized, which is totally different from the stores, which are a clutterfuck if ever there was one. The best part though, is the shoes and the shoe sale. How else can I get ten dollar flats in awesome colors?

John Adams' (composer) blog: it's kinda like the Onion, for classical music. Few people I know can make fun of Elliott Carter so courageously.

on the more banal side of musical exploration, I have Kid Cudi's song "Make Her Say" stuck in my head, with Lady Gaga's "Poker Face" simultaneously stuck in there too. Catchy shit, those top 40 hits.

listening to: yacht, beach house, swell season, and more

I'm excited about...

I'm excited about a lot of silly things, like the delicious drink I'm currently imbibing, (St. Germaine liquer), and the yoga class I went to today, and the fact that I have my retainer now, which I forgot to take to Canada. But more seriously, here at the events of note:

1) Arcade Fire has a new album out in August, and I'm definitely excited about it, even if it's not amazing. I haven't seen them live, and I probably won't get the chance to, but I'm just excited for them to escape isolation.
2) Belle and Sebastian is touring in the fall, as is Dirty Projectors, and I've already got tickets for the Vampire Weekend/Beach House show, so it looks like a delightfully concert filled fall and summer is heading my way! Might also get to see a few shows in Cali in July/August.
3) I'm giving a recital at the dinky festival in Santa Barbara that I'm going to. That makes me feel important, but also motivates me to practice for something. I haven't totally decided on rep, but I'm either going to do:
Ligeti Sonata (1,2,3,5 or some combo)
Theofanidis
Bach Gamba Sonata III or Biber Passacaglia
Takemitsu "Bird came down the walk"
and possibly some by Yann Tiersen. All pieces that I like and am excited to learn.
4) I just got an overdue check from my work, which has been paying me incorrectly for months. Hello 300 dollar check!
5) And I got a tax refund. Yes.
6) I'm playing John Adams' "Shaker Loops" at Banff with him conducting in the first week of July. First stand. Woohoo!
7) I'm embracing the color yellow.
8) I'm seeing "The pains of being pure at heart" on Friday. They're a band. Yay! And Alison Krauss folksy stuff on Saturday.


listening to: Beach House and The Pains of Being Pure at Heart

Returning from Quebec

What began as a musical trip that I was somewhat dreading ended up becoming a pretty great 2.5 weeks. Granted, I was really excited to be back in a country where I understand the language, and the daily meal does not involve pastries, but overall, my Domaine Forget trip served it's purpose. I left the ROC somewhat unenthusiastically, mostly because everyone else was still at school, graduating, moving, and spending time together, and I was signing up for 10 hours in a car to get to play the obscure Beethoven Quartets for two weeks.

It was really difficult the first week at Domaine-the location was beautiful and all of that, but I hadn't really practiced viola since my recital, and I was in one of those places where I wasn't sure I'd ever want to practice again. (I have since regained that desire, in the last week.) But initially, it was awful. I've always had a bit of a complex playing in quartets, simply because I have done it so rarely. I'm fairly inexperienced in that department, at least in relation to my other musical skills, and I always feel timid and stupid when I'm starting to play in a new group of people. So between the combined efforts of Ludwig Van, my own insecurities, and my lack of enthusiasm about classical music as an art form, the first week kinda sucked, not to mention the fact that most people were from Canada, and were a bit cliquey and that's stupid.

However, music seemed to work it's magic, or I was allured by the prospect of performing enough to get it together. As most of my closer colleagues and friends know, I rather enjoy performing. Not because I play perfectly, or anything like that, but because I love the adrenaline rush, and the feeling of connection with the audience. On a good day, a performance is like a continuum of energy between me and other people, and I feel this amazing rush of sound, feeling, and vibrancy through my body. The allure of that got me pretty excited about our quartet concerts, not to mention the fact that we were playing in a great hall, with good audiences. Once we got to Quebec city, I felt a lot better about my playing, as both a chamber musician, and as a violist. I knew that I wasn't the worst or best violist there, nor was I in the best or worst groups, and I just sort of embraced my groups for what they were and what Beethoven wrote. I am always amazed at how I can go into a zone of concentration and appreciation for pieces that I would never choose to listen to or play (Harold In Italy, Hoffmeister, 18/3...) and it was great. I listened to most of the Beethoven cycle in concert, since we were performing all 16 of them, and I had a pretty great time doing it. I still would rather have been to a contemporary quartet program, or at least a situation with a more diverse repertoire selection, but at the end of the day on Friday, it was amazing to realize that one dead white man wrote the diversity of repertoire that is known as the 16 string quartets. To know that a person can have so much diversity of emotion and expression is amazing, and it's difficult not to admire it, for what it is. It was also necessary for me to realize, once again, that I personally do have a knack for playing the viola, and it may not be a talent that lends itself to an epic musical career, but I do actually enjoy making music, and I forgot that for a while back there. It doesn't mean that I don't want to be in a band, or that I don't want to make green tea chocolate cupcakes as a part-time job-I definitely do. But no matter how I try, I can't erase this classical side of me, even if I want to. I've spent almost 18 years studying it, and it's as much a part of me as my arms or my feet. I needed to remember that, and for that, I am grateful.

Listening to: Florence and the machine

Sex and the City 2, and why Carrie Bradshaw is Kinda of a B

In the spirit of girliness, novelty, and camerederie, I went with my dear friend to the only English language movie theater in Quebec to see "Sex in the City 2." I probably wouldn't have seen it, at least not in theaters, or ever, since my girly side has been pretty nonexistent for the last two or three years. But I thought, it could be good. Maybe I've changed, or because I haven't watched the series in three and a half years, but most of the characters are pretty self-centered, egotistical, and materialistic, and I found it pretty heinous. A part of me is disappointed in my immediate reaction-I remember sitting around the television every couple of nights, and parceling out a few episodes to watch with my roommates, and having a fabulous time with it. As a show bridging the late nineties and millenium, it was pivotal-for empowering women sexually, fiscally, and otherwise. But at the same time, it reinforced some of the traditional gender/career issues: Carrie Bradshaw has an elusive writing job, but how the heck does she buy all of that stuff? Where does the money come from? Once she's married Mr. Big, he just provides for her in a way that I find mostly disappointing, and she lives this high socialite existence that has no grounding in reality. (I guess the show never had points for reality, and I just soaked it up, like everyone else.) I love Samantha's boldness, but she never has any regard for anything but sexual gratification, at any cost, especially in this movie. I appreciate Charlotte's regard for institutions, family, and everything else, but she doesn't have a job, and she has full-time nanny help, and lives in Manhattan. My pity is decreasing rapidly. The only character with whom I have always liked, for all of her sometimes bitchiness, is Miranda. Because she is powerful, smart, and struggling to combine her career aspirations with having a personal life and a child. I have always appreciated her issues, even if she had a few seasons in which she was mean to Steve in just about every way.
I remember being slightly annoyed when watching the first movie, two years ago, but it didn't bother me enough to take note, I guess. But this time, watching the absolute decadence and disregard for consequences, made me practically ill. The premise of the movie is that Carrie is "happily" married, lives in a very posh apartment, and is still unhappy, and is very mean to Mr. Big, for him not wanting to live the high life all the time. She's basically a super bitch. Then poof! They go on an all-expense paid vacation to the United Arab Emirates, and bring the most fashionably dysfunctional clothing I have ever seen worn in the middle east, land of birkas and sheets. Between the disregard for Islamic culture, and the flagrant materialistic obsession, I was sorely disappointed. I no longer care if someone broke a five thousand dollar bag with a waiting list. I never did, and I maybe just realized it now.
To me, fashion is about finding pieces that don't have to be expensive or couture, and making them go together. It's great if you have the money to buy a few expensive pieces, but when everything you wear is about the label and the designer, I think you're just wasting your money. Individuality means more when you're not fitting into someone else's idea of what's cool, or having $800 pumps in the middle of the desert. I just wish someone had some sense of reality, money, or what's real. Singing karaoke in the middle of the UAE with tons of other women certainly isn't, nor is Liza Minelli officiating at a gay wedding. (Both events occur in the movie.)
I think what draws us in over and again is the dream-of buying anything, of being anything, and of looking amazing and fabulous all of the time. It's a great dream, but I'll settle for my cheap sunscreen and fifteen dollar sandals the next time I'm in the middle east. I'll leave the Bulgari jewelry in the store, and treat my friends with respect and kindness instead.

When the caterpillar looks in the mirror and discovers its beauty

Do you ever look at yourself, really look, in the mirror, and wonder how you've become whatever it is that you are? I've lately taken to this thought, maybe in the excess solitude that befalls me in this current location, or because I've been listening to too much depressing music and reading sad short stories. Would I recognize myself at 23 (almost 24) ten years ago? I certainly don't look that different. I've still got the familial trademarks to which I cling-the short vienna sausage toes, the overmuscular calves, the well fed slightly lumpy middle section, and a decent chest size. I've taken to realizing that my taste in clothing in middle school was actually quite good, ahead of my time perhaps, and I've begun wearing some of my old clothes, since I lacked the courage, the perspicacity, and style to really pull it off. Sometimes I think that I've finally become the person I wanted to be 10 years ago-more courageous, articulate, less afraid of consequences, yet still wise and rational. At the same time, I see this vestiges of my former personas-the fear- of others' censure, of judgment, rejection, solitude. I walk on a precipice between embracing and rejecting this principles; transgressing my fears, yet still retaining a hollowness when I realize that everyone else is having a campfire without anyone inviting me. I remember those days when I used to linger in the bathrooms of school, in order to avoid being seen, alone, friendless, and fearful of the judgment that comes with it. Or the running away from awkward social situations, with groups with whom I knew, and still know, I don't belong with.

I remember the tragic days of spending time with the tennis team, with the girls of bouncy, buoyant youth, money, and suntanned perfection, and their expensive polo shirts and designer jeans. Or the individualist kids in my class- the ones with wit and humor and great taste in music, whom everyone wanted to date. I never fit into one group, as I do not now, here. I instead navigate an obstacle course of social situations, finding a common thread, or ground, appraising other's social skills and establishing whether or not it would indeed be useful to be their friend, whether they could learn to care for me, as I so quickly would for them. Or whether a brief friendship would arise from convenience, from youth and proximity, rather than any shared values, personal behaviors, or beliefs in goodness, love and caring. This is the field I navigated back then, and left empty handed, and it is the mountain I still scale, though equipped more fully than in days past. I used to be so ashamed of my loneliness, so desperate for someone to recognize me, to see my beauty of personality, to want me in his or her life. Now, I crave it less and less, as I know that people do care about me, just maybe not the ones here right now. I've looked in the mirror hard and long, and I've criticized so much of myself, analyzed so many of my faults, that I thought I might never be beautiful to anyone, not even myself. But the mirror is deceptive, and time is like water: cleansing, ever moving, always changing. Water is what creates our body-too much or too little causes death, in conjunction with an ever changing current of emotions and feelings that befall us.

I am not sure that 23 or 24 is quite what I imagined. I haven't fallen in love yet, or started a brilliant career in veterinary sciences or writing, or really music, for that matter. And I haven't become glamorously thin, like I always hoped I would, nor have I suddenly woken up with the voice of Ella Fitzgerald. But the things that have happened have been lovely, and organic, and change has come slowly and deliberately. For the first time in my life, I felt like someone worth knowing this year, someone with social graces, and a nice home, and lovely friends, and chic style. A woman cutting her hair short is about to make a grand change in her life, and I have. While I still see the echoes of my former awkward self, I retain the outer shell of a courageous young woman, neither child nor full adult, embracing the solitude of this moment, this day, this week in time. If I saw myself today, when I was 13, I'd be pleased, if not slightly disappointed, but trusting in the person I'm becoming, and the way that time has a way of unfolding itself, like a note someone passed to you in middle school. Everything just is.

Beethoven is Not God, and pass me that Lo-Fi Shit, please

After 6 hours of Beethoven, I've been crawling back to my itunes to blast some non-classical music every evening. (Preferably with a bit of alcohol too, to wash down that mediocre camp food we've got going on.) Here's the secret-Beethoven is great and all, but he is not god. 6 hours of any composer might be excessive, but hello, 6 hours of Beethoven is a great amount of torture for you're truly. Here's the daily schedule:

8:00 Wake up and do some yoga to prepare for the long haul of sitting that awaits. Shower, breakfast.

9:15 After some wasted time on the internet, snooping on other people's blogs, it's time to warm up.

10-12 Beethoven 18.3 Fun, light, and bubbly, like an aero bar, or cheap champagne

12-1 Entirely mediocre lunchtime food. Truly disappointing salad bar, and the rolls are prepackaged.

1-1:30 Pre-rehearsal cram practicing.

1:30-3:30 Beethoven Op 135. Only like the world's most bizarre piece and kinda awkward and unsatisfying. Every time we rehearse, I feel like I can't play the viola. Great.

4-6 Ensemble rehearsal of Grosse Fugue (AkA. the Big Ass fugue) By this time, I'm checked out, and I just don't care. Lots of notes and stuff going on, but I'm super spacey and tired.

6:00 Dissatisfying Meal Again. Followed by drinks, and sorrow on the state of the food and excesses of playing so much beethoven.

See? That's a whole lotta Beethoven. I could really go for some Bartok right now, Webern perhaps, or something crunchy. I'll settle for popular music, I suppose, since my arms might fall off if I try to play something. This gets back to the more troubling issue-how do I reconcile my obsessions with popular/indie/alternative music with my classical music chops? I've wondered that off and on these last two years, and managed to avoid dealing with that particular issue. I've never really felt inspired to write songs. I can't play guitar well, and my voice is only good for harmonizing. No one would want to hear me lead a band. I'm no Andrew Bird either-can't whistle while playing viola or violin. But I really just love non-classical musics to a point where it is positively troubling. Since school's been out, I'm just scouring the internet for music and news and new releases. I love being an avid listener of the indie scene, for sure, but I just wonder if it will ever be possible to me to part of a non-classical (and sometimes classical) scene. I have no idea what to do about it-I haven't written for a paper since high school, so I probably won't get hired by any music organizations any time soon. It's truly an odd thing, though, having trained for 16+ years in the classical discipline, but craving the aural sensations of another genre in such depth. I've talked about this with a few of my friends off and on, but it's really hitting me hard here, since I like this music enough, but I'd probably be a lot more enthusiastic if I was learning Ligeti, Bartok, Webern, Glass, or something in the last hundred years. It's like I'm unable to relate to more traditional Romantic period musics. It's truly fascinating, and slightly distressing, I must say. How did I get here, and what do I do from here? I suppose only time will tell.

Currently listening to: Sleigh Bells' "Treats" Check it out-it's got some sweet MIA style lo-fi jams.

Beethoven, or why I don't want to be your friend.

In listening to the new mates of states' cover of "Laura", I can safely say that I am not ready to make new friends. After a day of festival bonding, I am totally drawn to isolation. I am all about being sociable and extroverted and all that, but I'm not ready to discard my old friends from Eastman. I'm still processing the rise and fall of my connections with them, and even though many of them are leaving Rochester by the time I return, I can't forge new friendships yet. I just want to hold onto the ones I have, and make them stronger. Maybe it means that I'm lame for not wanting to read quartets at night, but I just don't want to be just anyone's friend. I want to be your acquaintance, and maybe your colleague, but we've only got like 9 days, and I just am not in the mood yet to make new alliances. So I'll creep into the dark velvety abyss of the internet, where I can read articles about bands on pitchfork, read people's blogs, and listen to music. (Oh and look at etsy and regretsy, and everything else.)

I'm so proud of myself for even practicing so much in the last 48 hours, and being able to play quartets today, after my longish hiatus. After that, it's hard to be motivated to socialize in excess. (Speaking of the internets, I am pleased to announce that Beach House is touring with Vampire Weekend in the fall, and yes, I already bought tickets to see them in NYC in September, but they are also playing in Boston, which means that I could see them at home instead. Tempting, although it would be great to see them in radio city music hall. Either way, I'm super excited about seeing Beach House, and maybe I'll see them in June in Buffalo (6/20). Their album "Teen Dream" is really amazing. Check it out.)

music ideas in only a few words:

*the smiths can only be in small doses, like spicy food. otherwise, everything gets very hazy.

*joanna newsom's new album sounds like joni mitchell. that's a good thing.

*lily allen is a much better popstar than most. very witty, even if she's on a major label and has some over amplified sounds.

*sharon jones is amazing. kudos to her for rocking out in her 50's.

*i'm embarrassed to say that parts of the new moon soundtrack are very good. why did so many artists think they needed to contribute songs for the sake of emo vampire teens?

*i don't think i can ever be a purely classical musican. I keep having to work on some contemporary rep here to keep from losing my mind in Beethoven.

*i'm thinking about the handmade cookbook I'm going to send to grizzly bear, and i'm very excited. i'm also allowing myself to totally indulge in my popular music habits. it's summer, and i don't give a crap. obsession, take over.

(here's a new favorite from the new moon soundtrack: grizzly bear +lead singer of Beach House=slow success. not the best recording quality, but gets the just across. and p.s., i'm still waiting to meet daniel rossen on public transportation, and have him fall madly in love with my baked goods. hey, it could happen!)