The Non-Bleak Midwinter

Kiwi, via Kevin. This chokes me up more and more every time I watch it. I think I can relate.

The other day I finally made it to Butchart Gardens, though I didn't actually see any foliage. We went at night for the staff family Christmas evening, and saw all the lights which had finally been juuust about perfected for the opening of the Christmas lights show. It was pretty darn impressive. I liked the Three French Hens--they were chickens, eating a meal of chicken, with the Eiffel Tower in the background. The Eleven Pipers Piping kind of creeped me out... nearly full-sized puppets with those glassy taxidermy eyes, dancing on strings according to some mechanization, while eerie flute music piped through the colonnade. Some of their fingers moved. Very impressive, though. The best part about it being staff night (aside from the fact that no tourists were allowed) was that people were fiddling with things here and there, hopping over fences (to fix a taxidermy eye that was awry, for example). Not me, mind you. Just staff. Very blurry pictures on Facebook.

I finally found out the order of my music exams. Orchestration will be out of the way first, fortunately, so that I can go to Winter Harp and hear some music performed by a range of harps, modern instruments, and obsolete instruments including "the ethereal-sounding bass psaltery (the only one like it in the world), the 12th century organistrum (the other one like it in Canada is in the Museum of Man in Ottawa) and the nyckelharpa." It will take up the evening in between exams... so I have to just trust to fate for Baroque, I guess.

The end is in sight. I just have to finish my extra Codicology paper (which, much to my well-hidden dismay, was upgraded from 7-9 pages to 15 pages on Friday... just 4 days before its deadline). Then the music exams, then the hefty final English paper.

Ryan comes back from CERN today! Yay!

snip snip

My composition teacher employs a teaching method that I can only describe as "snipping." Like this. It amuses me to no end.

I've only just discovered that I didn't know what C-Score meant. And that I can't reliably transpose transposing instruments from written to sounding and vice versa; the problem is that I hadn't really been exposed to orchestral—or even band—instruments until I started this Orchestration class in September. Not having had any sort of music program whatsoever in all my years of schooling is coming back to haunt me. Unfortunately, I have less than three weeks to sort this and other problems out.

I'm not, by any stretch of the imagination, a sports fan. In fact, every time I walk home and the Basement Dweller happens to be in his suite, I have to stifle a wave of rage at his blaring TV which always has some sort of sports game playing. But, I'm happy (and proud) the Roughriders won the Grey Cup today. I even secretly checked the status of the game online (and by "secretly," I of course mean that I'm blogging about it for the world to know). There's a vast chasm between wanting to know how the score ends up, and being willing to watch a game, though.

Sweet Life

For some reason, everything always comes back to Starbucks. Or caramel frappucinos, if you want to get really fundamental. Sitting in Starbucks, morosely sipping a caramel frappucino and seeing that Hiring Baristas, February 13 sign across the street. Incorrectly answering "I'm partial to frappucinos" when asked what my favourite coffee shop drink was during my interview (frappucino is a failproof identifier of a Starbucks customer). Ducking into Starbucks on lunchbreak, feeling mortified when the head barista there outright asked me where I worked and triumphantly cried "I knew it!!" upon my answer. The coffee shop has been in my mind a lot lately. Perhaps because I pass by there once in a while these days, and try to peer inside from the opposite side of the street without having them see me. Mostly, I see the owner grinding espresso beans, making the shot, steaming the milk, pouring the drink, grinding espresso beans, making the shot, doing the milk, pouring the drink... and I think how awful it must be to do that job for the rest of your life. All he's really doing is taking pride in making the most beautiful drink in the world so that some Joe Cool can take one glance at it before gulping it down. Over and over and over every day. Sometimes I catch a glimpse of sweet Mrs. K and wonder how she's doing, and if she'll ever retire. Lots of times I wonder where my coffee-brother coworker went; I'd like to see him again. It was good times, even if the rest of it wasn't. I stopped going to that Starbucks after I quit at the coffee shop, and I haven't really gone back there until today. But today I did go back there, and even though it was freezing outside I ordered my usual caramel frappucino and muffin. And the same old barista was there. I tried to remember his name while I stood in line, but since it had been 6 months since I'd been there, and I wasn't wearing my old uniform, I didn't expect him to recognize me anyway. So I sat at my little round table, eating my muffin and sipping morosely at my caramel frappucino, wondering where all the time goes. Where all the people go, who slip in and out of your life. If they remember you, like you remember them. "Hey, do you work over at Dolce?"

All About Exams

I've been on Reading Break for the past three days, which has been hypothetically excellent. I didn't really think about school, except for today when I had to meet with a professor. I've been trying to learn as much Orchestration as I can, in preparation for the exams in December, which, as it turns out, I seem to maybe be registered for.

In the first place, I couldn't register for the exams online, which really confused me. They had all sorts of exams listed that you could register for, but not the ones I wanted. So I had to phone them up in Toronto and actually ask them how to register. Turns out you have to do it on paper for those ones. At my last lesson, my teacher explained that this is because these exams are so uncommon that I'll probably be the only person in the country taking them this year. RCM will probably have to make the exams just for me. For some reason, that doesn't comfort me.

So today I checked online to see if my old-fashioned paper application went through all right by fax, and that I was registered. Apparently, I am registered to write one exam in Subject description not found on December 7, and another exam in Subject description not found on December 8. I hope a) they know what they're doing and send out the right exams; b) they let me know which exam I'm writing on which day ahead of time; and c) I don't find out at the last minute that one of those Subject descriptions involves something alarming like history or something.

The guy who owns my aquarium told me they're relaxing and cut down on stress. This one does nothing but give me grief. I usually feel like hurling my laptop at it.

I'm pretty much overwhelmed with school. There was a hysterically complicated personal-governmental situation that came up just in time to ruin Thanksgiving weekend and the ensuing days. Between that and a week of being sick, not much progress has been made of late. I'm starting to wonder if it's physically possible to finish everything in time. I can't understand how two grad classes can be so much more work than five undergrad classes. Music class is as awesome as ever; the homework I have been neglecting. Class is great because we'll be looking at my works next week; we looked at two of them briefly a few weeks ago, and after listening to my choral piece he gave me Arvo Pärt's Berliner Messe to mull over. Now I'm to write a Kyrie, but all I can think about is Pärt's Kyrie (which is devastatingly beautiful). I could do without all of this at the moment, though; with two music exams coming up in December there is by far enough to concentrate on with just Orchestration and Baroque. I need to go write 4 papers and prepare a presentation by November 5 now. And start writing a Mass.

Nutella Dreams

Last night I dreamed I met TR. He had this weird East German accent and I asked him about two songs in my iTunes library that I don't know the names of, and he suggested that we watch Live Earth. So then we all watched a music video of Sarah Jessica Parker lip synching some jazz song about her love for a transvestite named "Bingo" (because at that point a few more people appeared and we were sitting on a grassy slope, looking at a giant TV that was standing in the middle of nowhere).

The best part was when he accidentally touched my face. When he was handing something to me... handing it to my face... sure, I'll just grasp that sheaf of papers with my face, Trent.

It's all very... enigmatic. I don't usually dream.

Turning Back History

I took a year of Voice Performance in University. The summer after, I was fortunate enough to be chosen as the Saskatchewan soprano for the National Youth Choir. I recognized at the time that NYC was the single most important, most worthwhile, most lifechanging event I had ever participated in, and I felt that it set me in my musical life course. I prepared to return to classes in the fall with no doubt in my mind.

Three days before classes were to begin, I was at the University volunteering for First Year Orientation. After I had given my tour for the day, I wandered over to my college, asked to speak with the adviser... and then and there I formulated and carried out a plan to switch faculties, change classes, exit music and enter English. I can't remember, now, if I had had any premeditations on the idea beyond a few days prior to that day.

I mention this because it seems very fitting that I should now be doing almost the very opposite procedure, if not in fact at least in spirit.

Well, everything has changed. I'm now in my new place on the beach, which is right across from a park that is very dogs, if you know what I mean. The photos below are my new place (I live in the triangle), my rented pet prawn (who likes to molt and then play with his corpse), the view from my window, a view of Ryan playing our new digital piano (which is pretty darn awesome), and a freaking awesome Soliton-type cloud (also see this Strangequarks thread for some links on Morning Glory clouds and other Soliton discussions) we saw one day.



I shall go beachcombing every day. My collection of beach glass will be astounding.

But I won't, because classes also started this week, and the workload—even the reading list for a single class alone—is terrifyingly intensive. I feel like nothing has prepared me for what I need to put into these classes, and I have very little to contribute. I think I'll just sit there and say "For shizzle!" whenever a prof asks my opinion. Seriously, I haven't even heard of any of the theorists the other students toss around in class, much less read them, so I sure can't use them in discussion without doing a whole lot of extra reading and research, which I simply can't do.

Added to all this is music, for which I must finish writing my fugue by Monday night's first lesson. Yikes.

Biggest change of the day: Ryan is gone to CERN for three months :(

I am going to read Chaucer and Gower straight until Tuesday.

Fyre Fyre

Greece is burning. The whole darn southern part of the county. How much can this world take? How much can it rebuild? I just read an article on how they're rebuilding New Orleans. While it's sinking, and while the ocean's rising, and while hurricanes like Katrina will become more frequent. I quote the U.S.Army Corps of Engineers, when advised by John S. Hoffman of the Environmental Protection Agency in 1984 of the long-range threat of rising sea level due to global warming: "Given the uncertainty of projections of sea level changes, an attempt to accommodate such changes in the design of the project...would represent a very poor use of funds." Ah well, I'm taking this to the Obsolete Forum.

Lest You Forgot

Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me. Happy birthday, happy birthday, happy birthDAY TO ME. I would go into a birthday rant, but I've already done that elsewhere. I must say, my birthday was utter crap, not having seen any humans the entire day. But right now everything is right where it belongs, and I couldn't ask for much more than that.

Well, summer's trips to Saskatchewan are over. My brother's wedding was luverly (many congrats to him and Lisette). Here's the audio for the song Amy and I sang at it, complete with all the authentic background wedding noises. Sounds like they're searching for the rings again or something. I arranged the love theme from The Godfather with an added voice and in a major key so that it wouldn't be so mournful. It's remarkable how many songs marketed as "wedding songs" are singularly inappropriate for weddings in some way or another.

Have I mentioned how amazing Ryan is? He's devised and implemented scripts for the Music Encyclopedia that make it so that I no longer have to do nearly anything for it. Woot! That's not why he's amazing, though; it's just indicative of his amazingness. (psst... you're awesome!)

The Britons race is now over, since I finally got rid of my cellphone. I'll assume I won, since they seem to have given up.

• Join the Pickwick Club!

Everybody cuss at Banjo for a little while

I did it. For all my despairing on Facebook yesterday, it was really only about an hour's fiddling this morning to reconstruct the search engine for both the Lapsionary and the new Music Encyclopedia (which is still in very early stages). Go ahead. Give it a try. Look up "note value" or "just intonation," or (my favourite), "cluster," or even try "Pythag" or "Lmiz" and see what turns up. Now aren't you impressed? But the database only has up to "C" or so, other than what's on the actual mainpage right now. I could just make it entirely search-based, but then nobody would ever look up anything, and all my work would be for nothing. This way, at least, I can go browse it once in a while.

Can you believe, Banjo had 58 separate emails of Lapsionary pages as backups, but no backup of the search script that made all those pages obsolete? (I'm referring to Banjo, the person, whom I put in charge of backing up my old site. Stop looking at me funny.) Pages and pages of wandals and mandals and femankeys. What on earth am I even saving those for? Fortunately, he also had the Lapsionary database, which was how I was able to reconstruct the script. My mind was working after all. But Banjo really is awesome. Everybody loves Banjo. The best thing about Banjo is that so many people are aware of him. I used to use him in my writing all the time during my undergrad. Probably one of my greatest ideas ever. Tee hee, tee hee. The memory of it is making me titter.

If you've been attentive (which you probably haven't been), you might have noticed I've been more active than usual on all my accounts. Feel free to join in; it's how you participate in the Pickwick Club. It's also my answer to the infuriating conflict between being incredibly drowsy, unable to sleep, unable to wake up in the morning, and having restless, dream-filled sleep. It's highly annoying that everybody else doesn't have 7 blogs that they update at 2 am to entertain me. What do you people expect me to do now? There are still 36 hours until I board my flight.

I Musici

Earlier this week I attended a cello masterclass, where the best student played the first movement of a Shostakovich sonata. I never knew which sonata it was at the time, and because I'm so completely unknown within the Conservatory, I didn't dare ask anybody what it was. But it was the most beautiful piece I'd ever heard. Tonight the Master himself, the fabulous Yuli Turovsky, played the entire Sonata (in D minor, Op. 40, if you're interested). Shostakovich fascinates me. I wouldn't even have known what his music sounded like before this week; I might have guessed he was something like Shoenberg.

At one point during the masterclass (at many points, in fact, but this one in particular) Mr. Turovsky stopped the cellist and said, "In Russia, there is a profession among women who go to funerals, and cry." Those words gave way to a demonstration of how the cello should simulate this (a sung demonstration). It is absolutely impossible for any instrument to be more heart-rendingly beautiful than the cello. I simply must learn to play it.

The concert was fantastic, and Mr. Turovsky is amazing. And Shostakovich is entrancing. And, although it's a little excessive of me to insist on learning to play every instrument after hearing a piece played particularly well on it, the cello is an exception.

Symphony Splash 2007

40,000 spectators spill over the land fronting the parliament building in front of the inner harbour, into the water in canoes, dragonboats, and barges that now jostle for the best position from which to view the stage. Those who have water permits have been there all afternoon, as have the people who have staked claims on the best chair locations all afternoon.

Rich people in black suit coats and white gowns lounge on a rooftop patio on the Empress, which stands grandly facing the inner harbour across the road which is just starting to rumble with the drums of the Canadian Scottish First Regiment Piper Band as it starts to march towards the parliament building. A radio personality suggests that the patio people in black suit coats and white gowns rattle their jewelry so that the pipers may perhaps hear them, but they pay no mind.

The stage is a barge anchored in the inner harbour, and on it various bands and radio personalities have whiled away the afternoon in anticipation of the main attraction of the evening, which has finally (almost) arrived. The pipers pass along and are gone. Now the stage is dominated by the Symphony Orchestra.

Fast forward: the greater part of the two-hour concert is over, the sun has finally sunk out of sight and the water has stopped glaring at me, and then it begins. Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture starts with the old Czarist Russian National Anthem, "God Preserve Thy People." Then the French and Russian National Anthems are heard in conflict with each other. Suddenly, the Royal Canadian Sea Cadets set off their cannons, and five shots ring out, smoke rising over the water to the left of the stage barge. All eyes are on the spot where the smoke is now disappearing, when suddenly bells begin pealing out along with the symphony from behind the audience where the carillon tower stands near the parliament building, which is now aglow in its nightly lighting. All heads turn, and murmers of "the carillon" run through the crowd. The music builds, builds, then explodes in a shower of fireworks at the climax. It is exactly V for Vendetta, without the destruction of the parliament building.

It isn't quite over; the Canadian Scottish First Regiment Piper Band has stealthily been boarding the barge for some time, and now they take the stage and play two encores along with the orchestra.

It is the most spectacular symphonic event I have ever witnessed. And they do this every single year, they have done this for 18 years without fail. It is certainly this city's greatest tradition.

***
Not much is new in my life since I last wrote anything of substance, but in many ways there is not much that is unchanged. It's another time of upheaval, and I don't quite know how to deal with it.

One thing that is most definitely different from my last post (actually, it changed the following day) is that I did receive my violin after all. As foreseen, I do indeed bring out the worst in it.

I spent a week back in Saskatchewan and had a great time at the traditional St. Swithin's Day Picnic (the first annual traditional St. Swithin's Day Picnic, I should say). Many a photo on Facebook. I got a new camera. I slacked off in music theory a lot and ended up frantically writing fugue expositions the day before my final lesson, then got there and he only had time to go through one of them but he said it was such a good effort that I'm to spend August reworking it into a full fugue. I return to Saskatchewan for my brother's wedding, at my favourite time of year. I hope my new camera can accurately capture my favourite colours of autumn: pea stubble, aspen groves. I suppose I missed that magical moment of a field of brown caraway swaths lying on the green stubble beneath.

And then it's back in time to move houses, then starting up classes, then arranging composition lessons, and possibly instrument lessons. Then saying goodbye, for now.

Kippers for Breakfast

HAPPY ST. SWITHIN'S DAY!!!!!

My violin is stuck in a mobius belt

Somewhere, right now, someone is enjoying a free violin. Damn them. Damn them all. It's probably the same person who is raising a toast to bacon double cheeseburgers. And they live in Langford. For some reason, my kindly seller is opting to let Bacon Double-Cheeseburger keep my violin, and is going to have a new one sent to me, even though UPS is in the wrong for delivering it to the wrong address. Meh, just so long as I get a violin out of all of this. Interesting, though, how everything I attempt goes awry, even when I'm barely involved as in this case. And by gosh, if they give this violin to Banjo Double-Bacon...

---

• "Overall, [Lapsura] received 1 comments, while she commented 0 times, making about 0 comments per day since she joined DA. This means that she received Infinity comments for every 10 that she gave." That's right, I wear the mobius belt. I am master of Infinity.


• And the secrets of the universe are laid bare for all to see.

Deathly Hallows

One of the major bus stops is right in front of Chapters. Chapters' doors are always propped open, just so that I can wistfully gaze in through the bus windows.

Today, the open doors were a portal displaying an entire pallet of boxes, with "CAUTION" yellow security tape wrapped around the entirety. Boxes and boxes and boxes.

Written on them with a sharpie: "HP 7"

Chapters is just taunting me.

In other news, I bought a fantastic book called "Inventing English" by Seth Lerer. My theory teacher had been saving all the excerpts printed in the newspaper for me, and I got fascinated. It's rekindling my interest in Anglo-Saxon as well as my anticipation of beginning my M.A. in the fall.

you make me touch your hands for stupid reasons

Turn your speakers on. Right now! And now, a dramatic reading of a real break-up letter by a real person.

Even more transcriptions.

what the dickens?

I bought a violin today! Now to wait for it to arrive. I fully expect that it will not be a great instrument, and that I will bring out the worst in it. I also bought a hat, to shield myself from the cruel, cruel sun.

There are finally a few new drawings up.

Fun fact: The phrase "the dickens" was coined by Shakespeare in The Merry Wives of Windsor.

To do this summer:

• delve further into Orchestration I, Baroque I, and History I
• wield my super-pass and go watch music lectures/masterclasses/concerts
• fiddle around on violin (great pun there)
• do 1 more interview/article for Luther
• wander around the city a lot
• go back to Saskatchewan, twice
  • July: 1 wedding; 1 giant family gathering; 3 doctor appointments; visit family and friends; eat raspberries/saskatoons/hazelnuts/whatever else I can forage from the ol' orchard
  • August: 1 wedding (my brother's! at which I will be singing a duet), collect useful textbooks and transport them to BC; visit family; forage some more; possible school reunion
• find place to move to; move
• do some composing and transcribing
• finish website

ow, my stomach hurts

My theory teacher is so awesome. "Are you sure you don't play a string instrument?" That's pretty flattering, since orchestration is unknown territory to me. Also, last week: "Why do you know how to do this?" I should have said I'm a prodigy or something.

• EastWest Quantum Leap Symphonic Orchestra. This sounds fantastic. Apparently, if you spend enough time programming every single note, it's almost indistinguishable from a live performance.


• This is a neat site; there's lots of things to click. Like a maze, kind of.


• My god, this would be beyond awful.

the lineup

First Class Honours in Analysis V!

I'm temporarily looking forward to grad classes. Here's my lineup:

FALL/WINTER

1. Studies in Literary Theory: The Subject and Postmodern Culture
"...focuses on the impact of deconstructive, (neo-)marxist, and psychoanalytic theories on postmodern self-understanding of decentered and commodified subject. Blah blah blah paradigm shift." I'm contemplating substituting University-course-teaching class with this, but probably not since the idea of a teaching internship frightens me.

2. Studies in Middle English Literature: Moral Fictions—Ethics, Aesthetics, and Medieval Texts.
Most likely to be an awesome class involving a lot of Chaucer.

3. Studies in 19th Century Literature: Film and the 19th-Century Novel.
Good books, good movies, Charles Dickens, Jane Austen... and some crappy novels, but you win some and you lose some.

SPRING

1. Introduction to Textual Studies and Methods of Research
A required course, but one that doesn't involve giving presentations. Basically a class on library sleuthing and making annotated bibliographies and such.

2. Old English Poetry
The class designed for me, involving continuous translation and Anglo-Saxon verse. And Beowulf, but that was self-evident.

3. Studies in 17th Century Literature: Poetry and Protestant Culture in 17th-Century England.
My introduction to Milton.

Hopefully I'll also be doing some sort of grad-research-related work, or working in the Writing Clinic or something.

Meanwhile, I will be continuing with Orchestration I and Baroque I, though I'll be taking it at an easier pace next year.

Also, I'm going to start learning cello so that I can hopefully take an exam at the end of the year, so that I'll be eligible to join the cello orchestra (and possibly the First Level regular orchestra, though I have a feeling that would be me and a bunch of little kids) when I really start cracking on my ARCT. Plus there are two choirs I can join when I start it: Conservatory Chorale ensemble for adults which does Baroque to Contemporary, and Ensemble Laude which is a Medieval/Renaissance women's choir.

Ooh, I just discovered a Conducting class... add that to the list. ARCT days will be busy. And it would appear that the ARCT might just qualify as full-time post-secondary studies, despite being entirely private-lesson-based. It would also appear that I was supposed to talk to the Registrar of Post-Secondary Programs prior to registering ):< I'll get around to that next year.

The VCM music festival kicks off tonight with some guitar works by Beethoven.