is it?

all a self-indulgent waste of time? because if it is, someone needs to tell me so i don't keep posting.

berio flies in T-minus 20 hours. i will probably wear pinstripe pants. you can't go wrong with pinstripes.

game?

"lucky # slevin."

"no country for old men" like tommy lee jones. does that shadow of death guy really date penelope cruz? how does she sleep at night?

i know this much is true makes me ache for a twin that doesn't exist. toni morrison's song of solomon sits untouched; i did bozza in three takes at joe's this evening before dinner. i need fingerless gloves. my body won't stop shaking. heat dries me out, and yet a shower leaves me cold.

thanksgiving was not relaxing. my family may be small, but it's hardly functional. i did not buy anything of consequence on black friday. i'm starting to lose faith in presents, perhaps something to do with my rapidly dwindling savings. i need a real paycheck to open a checking account here in new york.

the letters drift across the screen almost of their own volition.

i love ben kingsley, even if he is knighted.

formatting is everything. i convinced myself of this long ago. even if your content is shit, if it's formatted well, at least the thing looks good. does this masters degree i'm supposedly pursuing have any real consequence? did josh hartnett really love lucy liu? he killed those people so quickly. she was so brightly quirky, a match for his flyaway hair.

and with that, i bid you 'goodnight'.

latest

i feel like i've been playing catch-up.

i guess i have to join the nfa.

this weekend:

Friday_________________

• first klibonoff rehearsal for reinecke. not perfect, not shabby.
  
• after the orchestra dress rehearsal, a bunch of us (david, crystal, da, derek, alice), shivering in the brisk november night air, headed in two cars (mine low on gasoline) to the westchester wine warehouse. we tasted (i tried an oak-y zinfandel, aussie shiraz and californian pinot noir), ate bits of bread with tart tapenade, and bought a few bottles. i'm bringing my italian estate dry red and reisling home for thanksgiving.
• next we went to seasons for sushi (alice's wise suggestion), i had a delicious roll, eel and cucumber wrapped in avocado. yummmmm.
  
• the concert was pretty good, surprisingly. the program was egmont overture, a little mozart symphony, and mahler 1. the horns (9 strong!) were stellar, the trumpets pretty good mostly. i had heard so many disaster stories, but because dunkel laid back in the performance, it was more of an organic performance.
• after the concert, after much deliberating, we headed to stopn'shop to buy cheap booze (because in new york, they sell the petty stuff). then we drove to alice's in david's huge red boat of a car and ordered pizza...nothing like beer and greasy pizza in a warm apartment on a friday night.

Saturday____________________________

• train to harlem-125th st, m60 to the end to andrew's house to drop off my flute with clio.
• somehow by transfer to the q to canal st to meet nora. dinner in chinatown involving soup dumplings. delicious and cheap.
• electronic music concert at roulette (20 greene st), music of anna clyne. we should've brought ear plugs. the live graphics were really amazing, something called superdraw. i saw some timara guys from oberlin teching the show. the world gets smaller every day.
• then uptown to spanish harlem to the f b lounge for what crystal thought would be salsa dancing, turned out to be $10 cover jazz, not bad actually, just not the free dancing i thought it would be. i left after the first set, and didn't have money for a cab to get me to 96th and broadway, but the bouncer lent me some. thank god for kind people who worry about young women. i took the 1 train to the bronx (181st) to clio's house. crash...

Sunday_____________________

• 9h wake-up, groggy shower, hit the streets at 9h30 for the train to 96th. lenny's bagels, i thought maybe steve menotti would show, but he didn't. blueberry bagel, plain cream cheese, and an hour of score study (reinecke, berio, bach e major).
• noon lesson at tara's house at 98th and west end. gorgeous apartment: hardwood floors; high ceilings; art and books everywhere; cabinets full of scores; copper pans in the kitchen, clean and well-used; freshly ground coffee...mm.
• walk up broadway to 105 to the silver moon bakery, what tara described as the closest thing new york has to paris. their pain au chocolat wasn't too shabby. i hardly had any money left, so i bought a crispy grilled cheese from a little short-order place on the way from the bus stop to the train.

blah blah blah, this is my life, take it or leave it. maybe drinking coffee in new york means that i can bear to let go of a small part of paris, the café + crèpes part. meredith and i had a place in the marais, i think it was 5 or 6 euro. the waiters would stare at her, her blonde, dancer self, mostly unconscious to their attention. so much inherent grace. sometimes i wish someone would look at me like that.

enough of this self pity. sorry the picture of the penguins disappeared. that's happened a couple of times. i guess that's what i get for lifting images off shifty websites.

aces

brahms piano trio in b major, op. 8 no. 108
calvin wiersma, violin
julia lichten, 'cello
paul ostrovsky, piano

purchase college conservatory of music - 11/13/07 - 8pm

brilliant, stunning. something in julia's playing is so alluring...playing brahms chamber music must be like skinny dipping in the daylight, vulnerable and chased.

i had a bit of a conversation with kevin lubrano tonight. he said it sounds like i'm exploring. lately i've been feeling pinned down, but maybe it's a trick of mirrors.

i need a haircut and a good glass of pinot noir. maybe not simultaneously.

saturday the plan is to go to the city, drop off my musicking things at clio's before salsa dancing, location tba. i have a lesson at tara's house uptown on sunday. it would be a waste of a round trip train ticket and a few hours' sleep to not stay.

sometimes my soul craves silence. maybe the suburbs are what i need right now. someone told me once that new york city would be too overwhelming for me, too soon. what i loved about paris was the possibility. i don't know what thriving feels like.

tara and cat cantin have both said that the flute comes easily to me for some reason, which means i have to give that much more to make the music happen. interesting that that has been said twice in the span of a year in two different countries and languages.

designs

gregory maguire's confessions of an ugly stepsister, set in haarlem, netherlands, hometown of our very own jp.

we talked about our interviews, and i was reminded of my plank research paper from last year, for which i spoke with l. dean nuernberger, the incredibly inventive original conductor of collegium musicum at oberlin. i sent it to a bunch of friends, old compadres from collegium, while i was in paris, trying to stir some interest. mary larew suggested i send it out to early music america. i'm planning to get a draft of it to jp next week to see how it can be reworked. i don't know if nuernberger would grant his permission to publish it, though. he's modest to a fault.

alice and i had our first rehearsal with cal (faculty violinist at purchase) for brandenburg 4 this afternoon. derek, crystal and i went to the cobblestone for a drink. hot toddy=tea+shot of jack. (too strong for me tonight) good when you're sick and need a drink (think finals week, meeting clio for a drink at the feve, december 2005, bleary eyed and sniffling).

one more mandelbaum gig to go (slight groan)..."paris is as paris was, my son..."

dave's jokes:

how do you get a musician to complain?
give him a gig.
how do you get a musician to complain more?
pay him.
...and more?
feed him.

what's the difference between jazz and blues chords?
blues is 3 chords for 1,000 people; jazz is 1,000 chords for 3 people.

my days are scattered, frayed. i'm not sure what to do with the time i have. hopefully rebecca's errands will fill up a few hours a week, maybe playing a few more gigs...the weather here is drippy, moorish. i want to hibernate, away from the damp, dark cold.

next week, denisov. marc wolf and i bravely take the stage (well, the floor) of the pcom recital hall (nov 15, 8pm) to play some weird amorphous quarter-tone music. stay at least for the 2nd movement nocturne.

stay tuned.
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Now playing: Marcos Valle & Joyce - Valeu
via FoxyTunes

renaissance revolution

i was supposed to work a dinner shift at the restaurant last night, but apparently there was a scheduling mishap, so handwashing my apron and drying it at the laundromat was in vain. i hate that, disruptions in what i expect of my day. i went home, watched crappy tv, ate eggs and leftover squash, and rented a dvd for $1 called renaissance. it is an animated film noir, with paris cloaked in a murky, smog-ish darkness, something about scientists perfecting an elixir for immortality. i chose to hear the dialogue in french with english subtitles. my french is sore, strange and heavy. i catch snippets of paris in my dreams, slices of what seems now a faraway life.

current books: i was lucky enough to snag purchase's copy of the memory keeper's daughter, so i'm into that, also a book of short stories by raymond carver (i read somewhere over the summer that he was pretty good). the time traveler's wife isn't doing it for me.

the rehearsals for tito's gig are tiring, the music is beautiful at times, but is also often abstruse. i don't know if all the rep will come together in time for the competitions.

what do i want, actually? it changes by the hour.

chagall's memoir is cute, stream-of-consciousness-like. he knew he wanted to create art. i am not as confident in that.

below, chagall's stained glass window at the UN. i saw it when i played the gig there and thought it was tiffany.

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Now playing: Bonnie Raitt - Walking Blues
via FoxyTunes