Numinous The Music of Joseph C. Phillips Jr. |
The Numinosum Blog
Here's the latest from our bird friends: after the three babies hatched, they were starting to grow nicely during the middle of last week, before we noticed a few days afterward that suddenly, there was only one left. We saw a stray cat prowling days before, so sadly perhaps some evening it made a meal from two of our friends. However, the lone survivor whom we call 'Jack Nicholson' (as I think you can see why) has made it out of the nest and is running around the yard, maybe not to be seen again...
(Photo credit: all photos taken by the Phillips household) POSTED BY NUMINOUS AT 2:55 PM
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THURSDAY, MAY 27, 2010
Enjoyable story today by NPR's Jeff Lunden on Face the Music, the student group that my "Liquid Timepieces" was commissioned for. The story focus is on the performance of two of Nico Muhly's compositions by Face the Music. Tonight's Face the Music show at Merkin Concert Hall was wonderful and afterward Nico Muhly and I talked a bit about how great it is to have younger kids play our music so well. For me it has been quite meaningful to see the development of my piece and how each subsequent performance brings out more and more, and how the students are finding their way toward making the piece theirs. POSTED BY NUMINOUS AT 8:55 PM THURSDAY, MAY 27, 2010 Next Thursday and Friday Numinous will be participating in a works-in-progress performance of To Begin the World Over Again, my collaboration with choreographer Edisa Weeks and her Delirious Dances Company. Although I've only been publicly talking about the project beginning last summer, Edisa and I have been in the planning stages of the project for about three years. So for us it is wonderful to be moving forward to the DEFCON 2 writing music-choreographing stage. Here's the official short blurb about the project: To Begin The World Over Again is inspired by the writings of Thomas Paine who was influential in the forming of the Declaration of Independence and who through his spirited advocacy for freedom and democracy inspired people to fight for independence. To Begin The World Over Again (whose title comes from a quote from Paine's Common Sense) fuses the vision of composer Joseph C. Phillips Jr. and his ensemble Numinous, and choreographer Edisa Weeks and her company Delirious Dances, to explore: what is the relevance of Paine’s words to America today? How are freedom and democracy packaged and promoted? What is the “Promise Of America” that Paine so fervently believed in and wrote about? Is America living up to that promise? June 3 & 4, 2010 8pm Tribeca Performing Arts Center – Theater 2 FREE Borough of Manhattan Community College (BMCC) 199 Chambers St. NYC 10007 by the West Side Highway; walk up the ramp and enter through the glass doors. Theater 2 is on the right. For the June 2010 performances we will be showing two short sections: "These are the Times that Try Men’s Souls" and a shorter interlude entitled "Reel Liberty", followed by a Q & A. I will be conducting Numinous featuring: Ben Kono, Dan Willis (woodwinds); Stephanie Richards (trumpet); Amanda Monaco (guitar); Mike Baggetta (guitar); Megan Levin (harp); Deanna Witkowski (keyboard); Aaron Kotler (keyboard); Charenee Wade, Sara Serpa, Melissa Stylianou (voices); Jared Soldiviero (percussion); Ana Milosavljevic (violin); Will Martina (cello); Shawn Conley (bass). "These are the times that try men's souls" is the oft quoted (and more oft misappropriated) stirring opening to Paine's The American Crisis. These words were written by Paine in 1776 as he was traveling with George Washington's troops on their long retreat from the Battle of New York, just steps ahead of enemy soldiers; and just before their famous Christmas night crossing over a frozen Delaware River in order to surprise the British and Hessian soldiers. The story is that Paine wrote these following words by campfire on the head of a drum: These are the times that try men's souls. The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of his country; but he that stands it now, deserves the love and thanks of man and women. Tyranny, like hell, is not easily conquered; yet we have this consolation with us, that the harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph. What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly--'tis dearness only that gives everything its value. Heaven knows how to set a proper price upon its goods; and it would be strange indeed, if so celestial an article as freedom should not be highly rated. The project received a grant from the American Music CenterLive Music for Dance Program in order to commission me to write the music and to help pay for the costs of the live Numinous musicians to perform it. The full evening performance of To Begin The World Over Again will premiere in June of 2011, which will include a symposium with leading historians, scholars and thinkers on democracy, social justice, and where America stands now in relation to its promise. But for now, we would love to see you on June 3rd or 4th, as your input would be invaluable in helping shape the evolution of the work. (Photo credit: Thomas Paine from http://www.thomaspainefriends.org/paine-portraits-and-images.htm) POSTED BY NUMINOUS AT 8:00 AM A week from today on June 2nd I'll be participating in the New York City Department of Education Teacher's Night at the famous Apollo Theater's Amateur Talent Show Night with some of my colleagues from P.S. 321: Frank McGarry, guitar & vocals (1st & 2nd grade music teacher); Adam Lane, bass (3rd, 4th, 5th grade music teacher); Elizabeth Heisner, violin (2nd grade teacher); John Allgood, mandolin and vocals (kindergarten teacher); Bill Fulbrecht, banjo and vocals (kindergarten teacher); me, bodhran and various percussion (kindergarten music and math teacher). Back in January 2010 I chronicled the 321 Band's audition and I can't believe that next week I'll be on the old grand dame stage of Harlem. Come and cheer for us as we go old timey on the Apollo crowd with our rendition of John Dawson'sGlendale Train. Tickets can be purchased at the Apollo Theater box office. Should be lots of fun!!! POSTED BY NUMINOUS AT 10:00 AM Face the Music will again be performing my "Liquid Timepieces" this Thursday May 27, 2010 6:30 pm at Merkin Concert Hall (129 West 67th Street, NY, NY). The concert takes place just before the new music ensemble Signal's concert featuring music from two of contemporary classical music's prominent voices: the world premiere of Stabat Mater by Nico Muhly (he of the recent and past controversy) and the American premiere of Sir Harrison Birtwistle's The Corridor.
POSTED BY NUMINOUS AT 8:00 AM (continued from yesterday's Part 2)
The Interlake Jazz Ensemble concert with Maria Schneider was Thursday May 22, 1997 at the Nippon Kan Theatre in Seattle. Here's what we played that night: 1st set See the World by Pat Metheny (arranged by Bob Curnow) Beija-Flor by Nelson Cavagvinho, Noel Silva, and Augusto Tomaz Jr. (arranged by Gil Cray) Bird Count by Maria Schneider Last Season by Maria Schneider Miles Ahead by Miles Davis and Gil Evans (arranged by Gil Evans) Interlude by Toshiko Akiyoshi Dance You Monster to My Soft Song by Maria Schneider 2nd set Conspiracy Theory by Mike Tomaro Groove Merchant by Jerome Richardson (arranged by Thad Jones) Love Theme from "Spartacus" by Alex North (arranged by Maria Schneider) Amad from The Far East Suite by Duke Ellington and Billy Strayhorn Mount Harissa from The Far East Suite by Duke Ellington and Billy Strayhorn Jubliee Stomp by Duke Ellington The Peacocks by Jimmy Rowles (arranged by Bill Holman) Moanin' by Charles Mingus (arranged by Sy Johnson) Except for conducting See the World and Conspiracy Theory at the beginning of each set as well as playing the tenor sax solo for Love Theme from "Spartacus" and some scat singing during Moanin', I was able to have the rare opportunity to just sit back and listen backstage. And what a concert! To say that the concert and residency was a success was an understatement. Here is what Maria said about the entire experience during her 1999 Commencement Address at her alma mater, the Eastman School of Music (recalled in the September 1999 (now defunct) Jazz Educators Journal): I was invited to be a clinician at a school in [Seattle]. They requested specific pieces of mine that they wished to perform--some of my more difficult music, but I sent it. The day before leaving for Seattle, I became aware that I was going to a high school--not even an arts high school, just a regular high school--playing some of my hardest music. I was trying to finish a commission for the Carnegie Hall Jazz Orchestra and was preparing a new CD. This was "crunch time," and I couldn't believe I was putting all my high priorities on the back burner in exchange for several days of probable torture. Then at the airport, I became aware that a parent had donated [their] frequent-flyer miles to fly me first class. At the hotel, another parent had prepared an elaborate basket of items for my stay. At the school, the students had made a huge banner welcoming me. And at the first rehearsal, those students were so serious, so excited to work with the composer of their music, that they completely swept me up. I decided I would get that music happening if it killed me. I was on a mission and made those kids work as hard as professionals--probably harder. When we went on stage, it was with such an elevated energy: the audience was filled with parents and friends with so much pride. And the performance! It was so relaxed--so pure--so musical--so divine. Everything truly essential to my music was there. I had waves of chills. I couldn't believe it, but those kids made me cry. Of the many concerts I've done, the only poster that hangs in my home is the one from Interlake High School--not Carnegie. It's signed by all those wonderful musicians who taught me lessons about music--about the magic we can create with openness, optimism, desire, enthusiasm, and love. Now of course we worked VERY hard before Maria's visit as I mentioned in Part 2. But when she was there, it was another level; for the students to have the person that wrote the incredible sounds we had been playing for months, standing in front of them, truly brought things into focus. I remember specifically rehearsing Dance You Monster to My Soft Song and while I had the kids humming along in 5th gear, when Maria came, with her experience and insider knowledge, they were kicked into that 6th gear I didn't know they had! She worked with musicians guiding them toward an understanding of her music that was wonderful to hear and see. Certainly from a purely technical standpoint the performance that night was not technically perfect. Don't get me wrong, the students played great that night, incredible in fact, but to say every single 'i' was dotted and every 't' crossed would be false. However from a MUSICAL vantage, there was in abundance, an aliveness and a magical, honest musicality which is the hallmark of any great performance and this Maria put well in her Eastman address about what made the concert so wonderful and special. After the concert two professional Seattle musicians, who I didn't know at the time, came up to me and congratulated me on the wonderful performance and for pulling off such a great event. One, Geoff Ogle (a wonderful composer, arranger, and educator who became a good friend), asked me, "This [concert] is something that the University of Washington Jazz Ensemble should be doing, how did you get Maria to come out?" I had a little chuckle and looked him in the eye and stated simply, "I asked." The residency had a great effect on the students that spilled over into the next award-winning school year where in the jazz ensemble we played Maria's Wyrgly and Coming About, in addition to my first-ever arrangements for jazz. However, Maria's visit really had a profound effect on me. Before the visit I wasn't clear what direction I wanted to take musically or professionally. At the time, I had no plans to leave Interlake. However, the inklings of my departure were certainly already foreshadowed: I had joined the Seattle Young Composers Collective (now the Degenerate Art Ensemble) under the direction of composer/conductor Joshua Kohl only 6 months before Maria's visit and this avant-garde group lead to my meeting and playing along with some great Seattle players (Craig Flory, Amy Denio, Jessica Lurie) and also renewed my interest in composing. But it really was through learning Maria's music from the inside, from watching her work with the students and the incredible passion she brought to working on her music, and just talking with her in those quiet moments we weren't rehearsing, where I said to myself, 'that's what I'd like to do.' And I vowed after her visit to work with more dedication and alacrity on my own music and to find my own sound and voice. Now I never considered (or consider) myself a jazz composer nor did I ever want my music to sound like Maria's nor did I ever see my musical path mirroring her's (while she is generally embraced in the jazz world, I knew even then (in my acute metacognition) that my broad interests and nascent mixed music inclinations, would happily never lead me to be a card-carrying member of the jazz world or the standard classical one as well; this stylistic homelessness and cosmopolitanism, so to speak, has been subsequently borne out over the years here in NYC). But here's what I said about Maria's influence on me in an interview last year, "...what Maria's music did for me was the same as what John Cage's philosophical musical thought did to many other composers: give me a sense of the possible and a confidence to follow my own musical direction. " And I can honestly say I probably wouldn't be in New York composing, if it wasn't for Maria. And if I wasn't in New York I wouldn't have met my wife, I probably wouldn't have met all of the wonderful musicians that make my music sound fantastic with my group Numinous, and I wouldn't have found my voice without all of those experiences my NYC years have afforded me. Frankly, I don't know what my life would have been like if she didn't say 'yes' to coming out to Interlake those long years ago. I sometimes wonder if I would have been a Mr. Holland-type lifer at Interlake or would I have found another outlet for my composing and still left teaching anyway? I know for certain that all of the babies I have had since moving to New York would never have been born (now, we are talking musical pieces here, I don't have any baby-mama drama in my life!). Maria and I have been friends ever since that time and we've talked on a number of occasions about that night and that residency and how special it was for the students, for her, and for me. On this anniversary of that concert, I wanted to share how one seemly small serendipitous experience can have a marked effect on the rest of one's life; how some lessons learned from that wonderful moment (perseverance, the courage to just ask, the true beauty of openness and honesty in the moment) can be monumental. One thing that being a teacher has taught me is that you can never really know how something that you do or say will affect a student years later. I'm sure Maria didn't know that visiting Interlake High School in May of 1997, would influence and touch so many lives and that 13 years later one of those lives would be still be thanking her. (photo credits from top to bottom: poster from Interlake High School concert with Maria Schneider-this is the one I have hanging in my studio, but Maria has one just like this in her home; Seattle Times May 12, 1998; Interlake High School Jazz Ensemble 1996-1997; Joe and Maria at IHS concert May 22, 1997, Nippon Kan Theatre, Seattle) POSTED BY NUMINOUS AT 7:15 AM (continued from yesterday's Part 1)
After the difficulties of the previous year, things were looking up for the Interlake High School band as the 1996-1997 school year began. As band director and music department chair (and newly starting that year for the school, International Baccalaureate Music teacher) I was organizing and spearheading the plans to take the entire music department to Los Angeles that spring break and unlike the failure of a planned East Coast tour the previous school year, this trip had wide support and was something almost everyone was looking forward to. With the jazz ensemble, we were planning to record our third CD that spring and of course, knowing that Maria Schneider was coming that May for a three-day residency and concert, everyone seemed to have renewed drive and effort. Even the monumental details associated with Maria's visit, which were looking bleak at the end of the 1995-1996 school year, were starting to coalesce into something that seemed possible. As I mentioned in Part 1, I wrote MANY letters to local businesses looking for sponsorship for Maria's visit and the initial response was underwhelming to say the least. Well now that the residency and concert were mere months away, things were starting to look up. While still not getting many positive responses to my requests, I was starting to get some help: the Bellevue Sheraton donated a room for Maria's stay; the local media were slowly opening up (I was able to go on KOMO TV Channel 4's Northwest Afternoon to record a spot promoting the concert and the Seattle Times was planning to send out a reporter and photographer for a story discussing the residency); the music parents were doing a good job of getting volunteers to work during and after the concert. Luckily the lobbying I did the previous school year helped to strengthen our band budget so that I was able to use some of it to pay for the design and production of the posters, for the parts and scores for the concert, as well as Maria's appearance fee and plane ticket (because I wanted Maria to fly first-class, since I thought that would be something she would enjoy (and something in my naiveté I thought she'd expect-we had a good laugh later about that one) one band parent donated airline miles so that I could upgrade her ticket so she could). So as the year progressed, things were shaping up nicely for the residency. I had chosen an ambitious, difficult but achievable program for the concert: a number of Maria's pieces from her two albums at the time, Evanescence and Coming About, along with works by Duke Ellington, Thad Jones, Miles and Gil, among others. And the band was working extra hard to make the music sound fantastic. Unlike the previous year, the jazz ensemble (as was every ensemble that year, as a matter of fact) was extremely focused and dedicated. A number of years before, I had set-up a sectional system by which every section leader in every ensemble (jazz, wind ensemble, concert band) was required to hold a certain amount of sectionals per quarter. Almost all of them were held during the student's lunch time (by choice) and while I was always available to help (I didn't really eat during my lunch time as students were all over my office and practice rooms sectionalizing and I was all over the place helping), this was strictly lead and run by the students. They decided what needed work, they decided how much time to give to what, they decided how much to hold accountable their section mates. And for the jazz ensemble leading up to the residency, people were doing extra sectionals on their own. Now I was never a Vince Lombardi-type, yelling and instilling fear in the students in order to get them to perform (although I did have my moments, as any of them could tell you), but rather a John Wooden-type motivator: encouraging the students but also not afraid to say when they were honestly disappointing me (and themselves) by not working as hard as they could. I cajoled and impressed upon them that they needed a certain amount of pride within themselves to give their best in order to achieve their best. I was working hard and I expected them too as well. And for this concert, I stressed that there would be no excuses come May 20th when Maria came through those band room doors for the first rehearsal. And you know what? Because I expected high standards, they expected high standards for themselves and rose to the challenge! Here's a story to show you how hard those students worked: when in those final few weeks before the residency I wanted to schedule an extra rehearsal beyond our usual 6:30 a.m. class and no time seemed to work because the students were so busy after school with sports or studying or work, we all settled on an extra rehearsal from 5:00 a.m. (!) to 7:30 a.m. one morning! Yes, 5:00 a.m.!!! And EVERYONE was there...on time! All of this hard work was ultimately rewarded, as throughout the year the jazz ensemble won, or were finalists in, every festival we entered. Although winning festivals was always secondary in my mind to how the students performed relative to their potential and effort, having concrete results certainly helped validate for themselves that their sacrifices and hard work were leading them on the right path for success. So that spring after we went into the studio to record the third Interlake Jazz CD during my tenure as well as a fun successful music department trip to Los Angeles, we were just weeks before Maria's visit and all of the last minute details were set: Maria and I were faxing and/or calling back and forth, making sure of her schedule while she was in Seattle; the students were sounding great and were excited and anxious about Maria's visit (as was I); the music parents, as was the school, were all mobilized; the posters and advertising were all done; all of the financial aspects were taken care of; I had delivered to Maria's hotel room, the gift basket filled with typically Pacific Northwest-ness from the music parents; the gift we were going to give her at the concert was ordered and ready; my car was washed and cleaned for my "Driving Miss Schneider" chauffeur's role of shuttling her to and from her hotel to the rehearsals at the school and the concert in Seattle. So we were ready! The afternoon of May 20th, 1997 I went to Sea-Tac Airport to pick Maria up from her flight. Since you could go to the gate to wait for someone back then, I was there as she came off the plane and at that moment the theoreticalness of her visit, of that seemly long-ago letter I wrote to her and our conversation about coming to Seattle, was brought to life. When she arrived at Interlake that evening for the first rehearsal, the students were so thrilled. They had welcomed her with a giant banner across the front of the band room. I could also tell they were nervous about what Maria would be like, but from the moment she stepped in front of the band, from the first sounds they made in front of her, from the great smile of approval she gave them, they were at ease. Of course it helped that Maria was so welcoming and easy going, yet firm and confident in what she wanted from them. They were prepared at a high level before Maria came, but having her there, she was able to offer them a level of guidance, insight, and experience into her music that I did not possess. This led the students to go beyond what they had already achieved with the music before she came. Often the difference was subtle, but the result was not. Even small suggestions about how to play a certain phrase or what the feeling of a particular section should convey, would led to a real understanding of the music. It was a masterclass (and a pleasure) for me to watch her work up so close with the students and to see what they gained by having her in front of them. And she wasn't just a passive participant; during the breaks, she was in the trenches helping to make the students successful: she would talk with a student about how to make something they were doing a bit better; she would demonstrate a particular voicing on the piano; she would offer advice on a way to approach a technical issue. At the end of the evening everyone was exhausted but also exhilarated about the rehearsal. Not wanting to subject Maria to our usual 6:30 a.m. class time, the next day's rehearsal was scheduled for the afternoon, starting during the time I usually had Wind Ensemble and extending almost until the end of school. By doing this, it was effectively an open rehearsal since all of the Wind Ensemble students and anyone else that wanted to attend was there. Again, Maria and students were working at such a high level, and while it wasn't all serious (some of my more gregarious boys were obviously flirting with her during some of the downtime), by the end of the rehearsal, I could see that it was shaping up to be an influential experience-of-a-lifetime for the students of Interlake and that the concert the next evening might be something incredible. Tomorrow's post: The concert and its legacy... (photo credits, top to bottom: Interlake High School 1996-97 CD "'aight" cover; SOME notes and letters in preparation of Maria Schneider residency; first-class plane ticket receipt for Maria's flight; Seattle Times-Eastside edition May 22, 1997, photo by Ron Wurzer of the Seattle Times) POSTED BY NUMINOUS AT 7:00 AM 13 years ago this week, a special event in my life and the lives of the many students I used to teach at Interlake High School in Bellevue, Washington occurred. So over the next three days I'll share a bit of that experience with you. Let's set the scene: I began the 1995-96 school at Interlake with high hopes, coming off one of the most successful years in the program since I began teaching. That summer of 1995, during my drive to and from Montezuma, New Mexico for International Baccalaureate training, I began thinking about what interesting music to program for the students that upcoming year. For all of my ensembles, I was always interested in performing non-standard repertoire. Sure, at times we played Holst and Grainger in the wind ensemble or Ellington, Basie, Thad in the jazz ensemble, but the preponderance of great high school bands doing the standard literature (groups such as the Garfield and Roosevelt High Schools of Seattle, which are perennial winners at the Jazz at Lincoln Center Essential Ellington contest--the contest didn't include West Coast schools until 1999, after I had left Interlake for NYC) made my contrarian heart bristle to find something else. The more years I taught, the more this feeling became prominent and the repertoire we performed reflected the move away from the typical standards. And the students were totally into it and that non-conformist attitude helped to establish our own identity. So I was looking for something out of the ordinary, something 'different' to perform. For the jazz ensemble, that feeling lead me to remember that wonderful music I heard the University of Oregon Jazz Ensemble under the direction of Steve Owen perform a few years before at the 1992 All-Northwest Music educators convention in Portland, Oregon. This is how I came to know the name Maria Schneider for the first time and come in contact with her music. The UO Jazz Ensemble, along with the many pieces they performed that afternoon by other composers (which I don't remember), performed Maria's "Dance You Monster to My Soft Song" and "Last Season" (which I remember quite well). I had never heard anything quite like it before. While clearly coming from the jazz tradition, it was somehow speaking another dialect; already my proto-mixed music heart could 'feel' the connection to other genres in those two pieces and I filed Maria's name away as 'music-I'd-like-to-play someday.' So after my IB training session, it came time for my annual summer repertoire hunt for the upcoming year and I remembered Maria's name and went a-looking for the sheet music for "Dance You Monster..." and "Last Season". Once I found out her publisher was Kendor, I called (email was a distant horizon then) and found out that those pieces were not published. The person I spoke with suggested I write a letter to Maria, which they would forward, asking if it was possible to purchase those pieces. I wrote the letter, sent it off, and waited. I don't remember how long of a wait I had (maybe a month or two) when one, nondescript morning the phone rang in my music office. And little did I know when I picked up that phone, that the person on the other side of the line, was about to change the trajectory of my life. Maria herself called me to say that yes, she had gotten the letter and the request and that, yes, those pieces were available for purchase. She told me how much and I said we'd like to buy them. Then, while we were still talking, basically on a whim, I asked her if she does clinics/workshops for high school bands. She said she did and we discussed what that would entail, including how much it would cost. Even though I had little idea how I was going to get the money, I said let's do it. Over the next few weeks we discussed logistics and throughout that 1995-1996 school year, I began work toward Maria's residency and concert set for May 20-22, 1997: got the students and band parents excited about Maria coming and involved in trying to raise money; found a cool, classic venue in downtown Seattle; planned and worked on an advertising campaign including a poster design; decided on repertoire for concert and ordered the scores and parts; and so many other details, both small and large. I personally called or visited MANY local businesses about sponsorships to help us bring Maria out. And you know the response I received? From almost every single place I contacted, a resounding NO, not interested! Don't they know this is a GREAT opportunity! It's MARIA SCHNEIDER! Although this was years away from her Grammy wins and generally universal acclaim in the jazz world, she was not unknown. From her first two albums (to that date) to her work with Gil Evans, she was beginning to make a name for herself. So certainly Bill Gates and the Microsoft Empire, who were just about two miles from our campus, could drop a little pocket change our way to help out! Starbucks? Hello, I know you were just starting your national dominion back then, but could you spare a dime...or 100,000 dimes? Even Earshot Jazz, Seattle's premier jazz organization, which one would think would want to be involved in bringing Maria Schneider out to the Pacific Northwest for her very FIRST performance in Seattle, had no interest. How was this residency going to be pulled off if we couldn't pay for it and no one wanted to help us? That would be highly embarrassing and unprofessional to call Maria and say we can't do the residency after all. It was starting to look more and more discouraging. I guess all of the rejections were just foreshadowing for my future life in New York City, where resiliency, determination, and hope is often necessary in the face of 'no, not interested' or the more annoying, ignore-and-hope-they-go-away-if-there-is-no-response-at-all. C'mon, is it really that hard to answer back? Back then is where I learned about turning rejection into a DIY ethos and spirit that says 'you aren't going to stop me from achieving what I want to achieve!' But I'm digressing. So anyway, things were not looking good by the end of that 1995-1996 school year. In addition to all of the disappointment putting together the residency and concert, I had one of the most stressful and least productive teaching years since I started: our jazz band, which had previously won numerous awards from various festivals, struggled mightily amidst internal strife and the loss of senior leadership; the Wind Ensemble and Concert bands were unfocused and inconsistent when a planned East Coast trip was canceled because of parental divisions and concerns. Despite my winning Educator of Year award from the city in the spring of 1996, I felt the program was at one of the lowest ebbs since I got there. Like many teachers, the opportunity to start a new year fresh, to learn from previous difficulties and hardships and improve one's self as well as one's students, is one of the most appealing aspects to teaching. So when the 1996-1997 school year began, I was ready to dig in and work hard to achieve my goals that year; and one of the most pressing, were the plans to bring Maria Schneider to Bellevue that upcoming spring. Tomorrow's post: Things are starting to look up... (photo credits: Seattle Times May 12, 1997; old marquee announces Maria Schneider concert at Interlake High School, 1997) POSTED BY NUMINOUS AT 7:30 AM A few years ago my wife and I took a trip to Malaysia. It was a 14-hour flight from JFK to Hong Kong, a wonderful layover in Hong Kong where we spent some time in town and then another 4 hour flight to Kuala Lumpur. We only spent our first and last day in KL, with the remainder of our time going around to different states on the peninsula. It was a wonderful time with many lovely adventures including tropical islands and beaches, tea plantations, wild monkeys, exotic culture, food, and people. When we came back to the USA, those adventures proved fruitful inspiration, for it spawned two compositions. The first was a piece called Rihla written for our Pulse project, Sihr Hilal. The second composition was Kelip-Kelip. Kelip-kelip is a Bahasa Malay word meaning "twinkle" and is used to describe fireflies. One of the Malaysian states we visited was Kuala Selangor and the village of Kuantan, where we took a late night ride on the Selangor River in a small boat called a sampan. Along the banks of the river were millions of fireflies lighting the "quiet darkness." However these were not the lightning bugs I grew up with, but rather fireflies that twinkle not in a greenish-yellow light but rather in a blue-ish LCD-like soft glow. And what was more amazing was that these fireflies did not flicker with a lazy stochasticity but rather in a beautiful synchronicity. When we came around a river bend in the pitch blackness and silence of the night to see the trees lit up and flashing together like Christmas trees lights was a moving and magical experience. Kelip-Kelip was written for a Numinous performance at Roulette's Children's Concert back in 2007 and I had the kids simulate the flashing of the kelip-kelip. Here is a video of the performance: Numinous
May 24, 2010 9pm Tea Lounge 837 Union Street Brooklyn, NY 11215-1308 (718) 789-2762 Donations (please be generous!) featuring: Ben Kono, Dan Willis, Ed Xiques (woodwinds); Stephanie Richards (trumpet); Ernest Stuart (trombone); Tom Beckham (vibraphone); Andrew Green (guitar); Megan Levin (harp); Jared Soldiviero (percussion); Ana Milosavljevic, Scott Tixier (violins); Will Martina, Lauren Riley-Rigby (cellos); Shawn Conley (bass) Be prepared, check back later for more... (Photo credit: Kelip-Kelip from visit-to-kl.com) POSTED BY NUMINOUS AT 10:29 PM Thousands of years ago on the plains of Africa, one of our human ancestors gazed upward toward the night sky and began to wonder what those flickering lights were and how they came to be. Such thoughts on the origin of the universe (and humans’ place in it) have enraptured philosophers, theologians, and scientists since that first ancestor’s gaze skyward. Every society and culture has a creation story to explain how they and their world began. From the creation chants of the Maori people of New Zealand, to Hindi and Buddhist texts, to the Christian Bible, thoughts on the origin of the universe are usually sacred in nature. Elegant and sublime, these religious thoughts were the prevailing doctrine of the West until the rise of the scientific method in the seventeenth century. The twentieth century saw science develop its’ own elegant, sublime, and often exotic, thoughts on the origins of the universe.
At the beginning of the twentieth century, quantum theory was developed: a by-product of Albert Einstein’s general theory of relativity. While the general theory of relativity describes the force of gravity on a large scale, quantum theory describes the universe on an extremely small scale. Neither theory, however, completely and accurately describes the observable universe, so today physicists search for a complete unified theory, one that weds the general theory of relativity with quantum theory. Quantum theory is a foundation of cosmology, the study of the origins of the universe. In 1926, Werner Heisenberg unveiled his uncertainty principle: “the more accurately you measure the position of a particle (of matter), the less accurately can you measure its speed” and vice versa. An observer can never really know the 'true' position of a particle. A particle can be in no place, all places, or even in two places at once! Thus 'empty space' can never be called empty. Subatomic particles can come in and out of existence by borrowing energy from energy fields. This quantum fluctuation takes place in a cloud or 'foam' of probability, which may have lead to an inflation of space and resulted in the big bang and the beginning of the universe. My Quantum Fluctuations opens with the percussion and bass laying down a high energy drum and bass type groove with Ernest Stuart's trombone soloing over top (the bass line here comes from Miles Davis' "Helen Butte" from the album On the Corner). Soon various 'quanta' bleep and blip in and out of the texture, while the solo continues. Eventually a melodic figure enters, is repeated, and built to a 'big bang' moment. Coming out of this event horizon another slower groove begins to emerge eventually surrounded by various clouds of intervalic structures leading to Ben Kono's non-chordal based alto saxophone solo. The alto solo is joined at the end with the trombone and Jared Soldiviero's percussion until climaxing with a unison melodic figure. Numinous May 24, 2010 9pm Tea Lounge 837 Union Street Brooklyn, NY 11215-1308 (718) 789-2762 Donations (please be generous!) featuring: Ben Kono, Dan Willis, Ed Xiques (woodwinds); Stephanie Richards (trumpet); Ernest Stuart (trombone); Tom Beckham (vibraphone); Andrew Green (guitar); Megan Levin (harp); Jared Soldiviero (percussion); Ana Milosavljevic, Scott Tixier (violins); Will Martina, Lauren Riley-Rigby (cellos); Shawn Conley (bass) Be prepared, check back later for more... (Photo credits: talklikeaphysicist.com; map.gsfc.nasa.gov; NASA from firstgalaxies.ucolick.org) POSTED BY NUMINOUS AT 2:50 PM Next up in the Numinous Crib Notes series: Race Race was originally written for the Pulse project, The Eloquent Light back in 2006. If you don't know, Pulse is the composer 'federation' I lead and it also features composers Darcy James Argue, Jamie Begian, JC Sanford, Joshua Shneider, and Yumiko Sunami. The original version of Race was for a 10-person chamber ensemble, in addition to the soloists John McNeil on trumpet and Pete McCann on guitar. The composition takes its' name from my researching and viewing historical photos of Olympic runners going all the way back to the 1920 Olympics. It was wonderful to learn about and see photos of the great runners of the past such as Carl Lewis, Edwin Moses, Jesse Owens, Michael Johnson, Flo-Jo (Florence Griffith Joyner), Kip Keino, Paavo Nurmi, and Joan Beniot, all whose photos and more were used in a slide show that accompanied the original performances of Race. There were two photos that initially captivated me (above): one was a photo of Wilma Rudolph from the 1960 Olympics in Rome (I love the joy she has on her face as she crosses the line and without knowing her painful childhood and of course the oppressive racial environment at the time, one can imagine that she never knew of such hardship and disappointment); the other photo was a shot of Marion Jones from the 2000 Olympics in Australia (No matter what you think of Marion Jones, I just found the photo shares with the Wilma Rudolph one, an accurate depiction of the happiness running (and winning) can bring out in someone and that is one feeling I wanted Race to give to the listener). At the opening of Race, the guitar plays only three pitches (Bb-Eb-F) in an arpeggio pattern shifting between groups of three and four. This beginning is both harmonically (is it the key of Eb? F? Bb? or any number of other possibilities) and rhythmically ambiguous (the shifting pattern floats over the 3/2 metric stresses) and leads to the entrance of the harp playing (F-C-Bb), also in an arpeggio leading into the trumpet and trombone melody a few bars later. At this point I can imagine the stretching and preparation before the start of an early morning run or runners milling around before the start of a race. As the composition progresses there are various overlapping or "chasing" patterns between instruments of differing rhythmic groupings, with the trombone more melodic, often foreshadowing various intervallic permutations that are heard later in other instruments. The trumpet solo enters playing on top of various "streams" of melody, moving at different rhythmic rates until the tuba and cello enter with a more "funky" bass line. A brief interlude (I call it a "second wind") picks up some of the previous material heard in the trombone and, much like the final lap of a race, pushes it into a slightly different gear leading into the guitar solo. The end of the guitar solo smoothly leads into the last section which harmonically starts like the beginning, however now more rooted in various modal configurations of Eb (although there is never an Eb in the bass); the trombone and trumpet, again melodically dance around each other one last time before finally fading out, leaving the harp and violin as the last statements in the piece. At a Pulse rehearsal a couple of years ago, I told the musicians this section was like running through the finish line and finally beginning to catch your breathe as you wind down. Overall, like John Adams' Short Ride in a Fast Machine or Micheal Torke's Javelin or Run, I wanted Race to be a portrait of motion; a linear progression of movement to the end, much like an actual race. However there were no images of runners in my mind as I was composing the piece. Only after looking back on Race, and this sense of movement was I able to explore running as a metaphor. Here's what I said about Race in the program notes: Running is one of the oldest and most basic of human impulses. It can be a utilitarian exercise or save you from immediate danger. Also, as demonstrated by ‘Dan’ in World Record from the film Animatrix, running can be a vehicle to enlightenment as well as a delightful endeavor in and of itself, as any young kid in a playground would illustrate. My composition, Race, is inspired by that child-like joy of movement: of testing your body and spirit against others and against yourself. For inspiration, I used various historic images of runners from the Olympic Games that I felt were avatars of this drama, but also representative of the beauty and exultation of the race. Numinous May 24, 2010 9pm Tea Lounge 837 Union Street Brooklyn, NY 11215-1308 (718) 789-2762 Donations (please be generous!) featuring: Ben Kono, Dan Willis, Ed Xiques (woodwinds); Stephanie Richards (trumpet); Ernest Stuart (trombone); Tom Beckham (vibraphone); Andrew Green (guitar); Megan Levin (harp); Jared Soldiviero (percussion); Ana Milosavljevic, Scott Tixier (violins); Will Martina, Lauren Riley-Rigby (cellos); Shawn Conley (bass) Be prepared, check back later for more... POSTED BY NUMINOUS AT 10:46 PM Here's an update on our robin friends nesting on our gate: the last week of April/first week of May the robin's nest was completed and the first egg was laid (see Part 2). Sometime in the middle of last week, we had three eggs, then this morning the first sightings of hatchlings (with Mama), and with Papa guarding the nest (Mama and Papa have been tag-team feeding the birds all day so it was actually difficult to find a moment when no bird was sitting on the nest to get a shot of the babies), and finally all three hatched!
(photo credit: Joseph C. Phillips Jr.) POSTED BY NUMINOUS AT 7:27 PM crib notes (from Urban Dictionary): a small instrument used to aid in the art of cheating. It is generally small pieces of paper with answers to a test, or just notes on a specific topic; notes for cheating on exams written on small and easily concealable pieces of paper with stealth in mind. Called "crib" notes because of the manner in which you hold the notes under your left hand/arm while writing with your right arm, keeping them concealed from teachers/professors with wondering eyes; notes written on the hand, arm, or leg to assist in cheating on quizzes and exams. In anticipation of the upcoming Numinous concert on May 24th, in the spirit of my Inside Vipassana series I did last fall, over the next week leading up to the concert (as time allows with all of the preparations) I thought I'd give you some brief insight to some of the compositions we'll be throwing down at the Brooklyn's Tea Lounge... First up, Madame Press Never Had to Holler at Morty Morton Feldman is one of my inspirations. In college, I remember vividly studying a number of his works in 20th century Music Theory and was astonished at how his music and approach was so distinct and beautiful with compositions such as deKooning, Rothko Chapel, For Franz Kline, Coptic Light, For Samuel Beckett, Only, among many, that I loved (and still love). Even at that time I made a connection between Feldman's evanescent ethereal clouds of sounds and bare sonorities with Claude Debussy's sonic liberation of harmony and quest for Symbolistic understatement. After many years of listening to their music and reading about their respective musical philosophies, they continue to hold a particularly special place for me. So when I started the writing of Madame Press Never Had to Holler at Morty, I treated it as a mash-up experiment: a 'what if?' project in the great Marvel comic tradition. This was my first attempt at fusing Feldmantonian elements with more funky, jazzy grooves (a few years later, my Quantum Fluctuations would be the second). Here's what I said about the piece in the program notes on its premiere in May 2001: American composer, Morton Feldman (1926-1987) wrote a piece for his former piano teacher entitled Madame Press Died Last Week At Ninety (1970). In that piece, which I first heard on John Adams’ 1991 recording American Elegies (Nonesuch 79249-2), Morton Feldman’s typically soft and subtle shifts of sonorities and colors are there, but the piece also features, atypically for Feldman, a recurring motive (a downward major third)-one of the first of his pieces to feature repetition. In my composition, as a starting point, I took Madame Press Died Last Week At Ninety and a quote from Feldman’s Essays (1985) speaking about how Madame Press was not a disciplinarian. Then asking myself what would happen if Morton Feldman listened to too much 70’s funk and soul (by way of 1996’s "Makes Me Wanna Holler"" by Me’shell Ndegéocello) and brought that to his lessons with Madame Press: would she still not be a disciplinarian? So you have this bass line from "Makes Me Wanna Holler" (transposed): coexisting with Feldman's falling third motif: with me adding my own take, combining to form (transposed): To get your ears ringing for the 24th, here's a video of a stripped down and edited version I did for a Numinous performance at a Roulette Children's concert in 2007 with Dan Willis (tenor sax), Amanda Monaco (guitar), and Deanna Witkowski (piano): Now for the Children's concert I took out a few elements from the original which allowed me to shorten the length of the piece while still keeping the general sense of the piece. However on the 24th, we'll be doing the original version.
Numinous May 24, 2010 9pm Tea Lounge 837 Union Street Brooklyn, NY 11215-1308 (718) 789-2762 Donations (please be generous!) featuring: Ben Kono, Dan Willis, Ed Xiques (woodwinds); Stephanie Richards (trumpet); Ernest Stuart (trombone); Tom Beckham (vibraphone); Andrew Green (guitar); Megan Levin (harp); Jared Soldiviero (percussion); Ana Milosavljevic, Scott Tixier (violins); Will Martina, Lauren Riley-Rigby(cellos); Shawn Conley (bass) Check back later for more Crib Notes... (Photo credit: Morton Feldman with John Adams by Betty Freeman from www.newmusicbox.org) POSTED BY NUMINOUS AT 6:16 PM About a month ago I was talking with Edisa Weeks about our upcoming Thomas Paine project performance in June, and she mentioned that she had just come back from MOMA's retrospective of performance artist Marina Abramovic. I had never heard of her before Edisa, and from her description I thought it would be something interesting. So I read around the 'nets about it (and some New Yorker's penchant for copping a feel of the art) and checked out the MOMA site on the retrospective, The Artist is Present. I found the interviews with Marina intriguing in documenting her growth and process of her performance art (a medium of which I'm not always on-board with).
Beyond the videos and the live nude models, I think the most fascinating part of the exhibit is the work The Artist is Present, where Marina sits in silence, from museum opening until closing (without break) in a chair opposite anyone that wants to sit with her. On the surface it seems rather un-art-like and pedestrian; what's so special about someone sitting in a chair? However, what I love is the mystery of it all. She is the unknowable watcher that is watched watching. What is she thinking or feeling? what is the other person thinking or feeling? It seems to me much like the Vipassana mediation, where you are alone with yourself mediating for extended periods. In that sense then, The Artist is Present is nothing new. However, where mediation is between you and yourself, here the meditation, while taking place individually, is also BETWEEN the two protagonists in the chairs. The art/performance itself is just a medium to express a connectivity toward our fellow beings. There's no denying that SOMETHING is happening between Marina and the other person, some communication is silently transmitted. And that's where I find it quite beautiful and moving. Just as a baby's movement or your dog's look can mean something, so to can two people sitting across from each other, have meaningful 'dialogue' with one another. I love this blog about it: Marian Abramovic Made Me Cry, which is actually funny and touching at the same time. Now I have not had the time to actually go to MOMA to see The Artist is Present firsthand (one thing I wonder is: who actually can spend the $20 admission and have the time to stand in line all day for a chance to sit with her?) but I have sometimes been checking out the Flickr photo stream (the Daily Beast said, all of those photos on Flickr are like a G-rated "still-life ChatRoulette.") as well as the performance streamed live during museum hours (although understandably, yet very annoyingly, for only a few seconds at a time before having to refresh the screen). And now, of course, something that may have had egalitarian ambitions (anyone with the hours to spend waiting in line can sit in front of her) has now, sadly and quite naturally, become a thang to do and be seen (check out the Marina Abramovic Flickr stream or MOMA's, with all of the celebs, and the regular folks too) but that doesn't take away my fascination with The Artist is Present. POSTED BY NUMINOUS AT 11:19 PM Just had to give a nod to composer William Grant Still on the occassion of what would have been his 115th birthday on May 11th. He was one of the first African-American classical composers to be taken seriously by the establishment during the early 20th century. In a time when there were few black and brown faces in America's orchestras and opera houses (ah, I guess we've only made marginal progress on that front), he certainly held open the doors for many other classical composers, conductors, and musicians of color such as George Walker, James DePriest, Tania Leon, and yes, Wynton Marsalis were able to follow his lead into the concert halls of America. Happy Birthday, William Grant Still and thanks. (Photo credit: photo of William Grant Still from www.williamgrantstill.com) POSTED BY NUMINOUS AT 11:40 PM Face the Music will be giving another performance of their concert "Beating Down the Doors" next Wednesday May 12th at 8:00 pm at the Brooklyn Lyceum (227 4th Avenue in Park Slope, Brooklyn; take R, M to Union Street). Tickets are $10 at the door. This is a repeat performance of their successful April 15th concert at Simone Dinnerstein's Neighborhood Concert Series and will include my own Liquid Timepieces, which was commissioned by Simone for the series and received its premiere last month.
Face the Music is a wonderful student ensemble performing some great contemporary music (on May 12th, pieces by Nico Muhly, Graham Fitkin, Marcelo Zarvos, and Jacob TV) so I hope you come out to support these musicians, before you have to pay Lincoln Center prices to hear them! POSTED BY NUMINOUS AT 2:49 PM The next Composer Salon is on Monday May 10th, 2010 from 7 pm to around 9 pm at the Brooklyn Lyceum (227 4th Avenue in Park Slope, Brooklyn), FREE! The Lyceum is literally above the Union Street M, R Train stop in Brooklyn. The Lyceum does have various inexpensive libations including different beers, wine and other non-alcoholic beverages, as well as coffee and baked goods. If you are a composer/musician in New York City area, regardless of genre, style, or inclination, I hope you can come out, meet some new and old faces behind the blogs and comments and listen or join the discussion, which often branches out from the original topic. With last week's 'alt-classical' blogosphere 'debate' about the influence of popular music in the works of some composers, I did think about using the flare-up as a subject for discussion at this month's Salon (despite basically already talking about a parallel subject back in November 2009). However with people such as Matt Marks, 8th Blackbird, Brian Sacawa, Dennis DeSantis, et al. covering things pretty well (and which I burned a few brain cells in some 'rants', ah, comments on a few of the blogs) and seeing as most of the rest of my brain power these days has to be devoted to getting ready for a couple of Numinous shows in the upcoming weeks, I thought I'd bring back one of my old topics, to make my life a little easier for this month's Salon. Salon Topic #6: Form Here's some olden thoughts: “If you want to create a work of art that is unified in its mood and consistent in its structure, and if it is to give the listener a clear and definite impression, then what the author wants to say must have been just as clear and definite in his own mind. This is only possible through the inspiration by a poetical idea, whether or not it be introduced as a programme. I consider it a legitimate artistic method to create a correspondingly new form for every new subject, to shape neatly and perfectly is a very difficult task, but for that reason the more attractive. Of course, purely formalistic [music-making] will no longer be possible, and we cannot have any more random patterns, that mean nothing to the composer or the listener…”-Richard Strauss in a 1888 letter to Hans von Bulow “[in his first period] traditional and recognized form contains and governs the thought of the master; and the second [period], that which the thought stretches, breaks, recreates, and fashions the form and style according to its needs and inspirations.”-Franz Liszt in a 1852 letter to author Wilhelm von Lenz, writing of Beethoven “[Marcel] Breuer was aware of the significant value of spontaneity and freshness to design and it is still my inclination to work in that manner. It is easy to complicate matters and be trapped by the multitude of design and technical solutions requiring resolution on all projects. Loss of momentum is, generally, disastrous. Relatively little seems to be achieved by reworking and reconsidering matters time and time again. There is no stopping point in design and one could go on designing forever, but the degree of improvement on a project diminishes precipitously at a sometimes hard to recognize point.”-David Masello in Architecture without Rules And some more contemporary takes: “What I really try to do is start from zero…I’m trying to start as much as I can from a neutral point, to see what the first impulse is and work from that…sometimes I’ll start with a technical idea…sometimes an image will come up of what the whole piece will be, and then it’s a matter of finding the components and structuring it. Generally, the process begins intuitively and I try to stay out of the way of the material as much as I can. Then as it goes along, the intellectual aspect comes in, which is trying to find the correct form for that material.”-Meredith Monk from New Voices: American Composers Talk about Their Music “To realize I can reinvent form every time I write is daunting. But often what I want is to open up and tell a story. I want people to feel like my music takes them on a journey, brings them [to] different places, enticing or surprising them. I develop the form based on my dramatic needs…”-Maria Schneider from an interview with Fred Sturm Basically the question is how do we organize and make sense out of the music that we hear and that we create? If you are a composer or musician or music lover in the New York City area, consider coming down to the Lyceum and joining the discussion, or if you don't live in New York or can't make it, adding your thoughts in the comments. Hope to see you on May 10th! Previous Composer Salons Composer Salon #1: The Audience Composer Salon #2: Future Past Present Composer Salon #3: Mixed Music-Stylistic Freedom in the 'aughts Composer Salon #4: Inspiration Composer Salon #5: What Do You Mean? (also here's a NPR A Blog Supreme article about the Salon) POSTED BY NUMINOUS AT 8:00 AM SUNDAY, MAY 2, 2010
A photo update on my post yesterday about our fence-sitting little avian friend... (photo credits: Joseph C. Phillips Jr.) POSTED BY NUMINOUS AT 5:44 PM First day of May, beautiful warm day at the old homestead, first mow of the season. I've always used a manual lawnmower and it is very pleasant to hear the whirr of the cutters striking the blades of grass. And although it is a lot more work than using a power mower, especially when the grass is long, as my sore body can attest this afternoon, I find it more satisfying. For weeks now, we've been preparing for our yard and garden by growing little seedlings, lovingly cared for inside (well, really my wife is doing all of the work, so perhaps I really should say, 'she'). Now, and over the next few weeks, slowly those little flowers will make their way to the cutting garden and those proto-vegetables and fruits to the garden beds, eventually to find heaven in our stomachs. Another sign of spring at the Phillips home, a little American Robin found its way to make a nest on the gate and fence I built last summer. While this is actually a very inconvenient spot for us (ah, I did build the gate so we could actually go in and out of the yard), we're happy our bird friends can call our place home too (a few years ago one bird took that saying a little too literally for my tastes, finding a home in our attic and under the siding, but that's another story). Maybe our little Vogel is trying to tell us something good about the upcoming summer months. Hmmm... POSTED BY NUMINOUS AT 6:28 PM |
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Thanks and credit to all the original photos on this website to: David Andrako, Concrete Temple Theatre, Marcy Begian, Mark Elzey, Ed Lefkowicz, Donald Martinez, Kimberly McCollum, Geoff Ogle, Joseph C. Phillips Jr., Daniel Wolf-courtesy of Roulette, Andrew Robertson, Viscena Photography, Jennifer Kang, Carolyn Wolf, Mark Elzey, Karen Wise, Numinosito. The Numinous Changing Same album design artwork by DM Stith. The Numinous The Grey Land album design and artwork by Brock Lefferts. Contact for photo credit and information on specific images.