i will lift up my voice to the lord

one of the jobs of great art is to make us uncomfortable.

uncomfortable in the sense that it causes internal conflict, makes us rethink how we look at everything, questions our very being. you're supposed to come out of the other side, challenged, maybe even experiencing a catharsis, in the sense of a resolution. and it's an unmistakable feeling. this past sunday, i attended the performance of Bernstein's MASS at the Kennedy Center with the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra (the importance was not lost on me that the piece was written for the inauguration of that very hall) and let me tell you, i was uncomfortable. the work is not new to me but listening to the recording and seeing it live is like comparing apples to giraffes. the dramatic elements, i found, at times, spellbinding. and in the Celebrant's bel canto style mad scene, i felt the anguish to the point of fear. it was a feeling that i have not felt in quite some time. i left feeling differently about the piece (and myself), more so than i could have imagined.

now is the MASS a great work of art? that is not really for me to say. it is so underperformed and still, to this day, so controversial on so many levels that i don't know if it would ever have a chance to be considered as such. but i must thank the BSO and Maestra Alsop (and of course, Lenny, himself) for giving me something to think about. it has been a while.

post-script: i have not stopped listening to "A Simple Song" since. i think it is too beautiful. listen here
post-post-script: i just saw in my RSS reader that Charles Neidich is playing Quartet for the End of Time at Merkin Hall tomorrow. it's one of those moments that i miss NYC. as much time as i spent working with Neidich, i barely got to see him perform 20th century music.

you know nothing of madness

hormones, repressed feelings and anxiety make us do wild things.

like act like a child when you're a grown-up or act like someone who's looking to be casual and fancy free when you really want a relationship. it's the "i'll-take-anything" mentality. and sometimes, it's nice to indulge it (even at the sake of your own embarrassment) but then comes that adage of curiosity killing some cat somewhere and you realize that it could be a dangerous path.

who really wants to singe their whiskers?

especially when there might be greater things around the corner? i've grown pretty impatient with a lot of of things --- mainly, being an adult and all that comes with it; worrying about school and the economy, paying my rent, taxes, bills, and of course, wondering why i'm not married yet. so why not have dalliances and run around with people twice one's age (or the square root of one's age) and laugh and be silly in the face of such terrifying danger? because, i know better or at least, a little more. i know that if i just wait all my questions will be answered, desires and urges squashed. and as fun as it may be to have those desires, it's also a lot more fun just to be calm. (everyone else enjoys it, too)

so i'll wait, sit on my hands and stop myself from doing anything too rash. i can not get too close and still be warm.

you know, the birds who can't sleep at night

it's 1:30 in the morning and i'm sitting here at my computer, listening to Ravel's Piano Trio in A minor (III. Passacaille), ruminating over my life, as is the profound effect that music has on me when i really listen to it, wondering just what the hell is going on. i leave for raleigh not too long from now and i think that will help clear things up for me.

the beginning of this (school) year has been nothing but madness. dare i say, a continuation of the months prior with a dash of flavor to keep things interesting. i just feel like i've been kicked in the gut over and over again (even though sprenkle refers to that as what emily dickinson says great art should do) and i'm so dissatisfied. but who wants to listen to me complain?

i think everyone needed this break right about now. if ever the term "at one's wit's end" became tangible and visible, you'd see it on the face of every peabody student. not to mention the toll of what's going on in the world, in general. most of them don't have to deal with it directly because they're too young for it to have really affected them but it wears on me in a way that i can not explain. people are hurting and suffering everywhere and anyone with any bit of empathy really understands how calamitous that is.

but if i make it through october all will be well. november is the month of optimism and excitement. just about three weeks out of the month, i will be out of town and that is a glorious thing. what awaits me? i can not say but the prospects are scintillating. getting the chance to mix with people at AMS/SMT will be, no doubt, of great use to me. plus, i love nashville! everyone needs to get out every now and then.

okay, i admit it, this blog entry was a device to keep me from packing, an activity that i loathe but since i must get to bed, it can't be avoided. but i think i'll listen to the ravel one more time...