I can’t resist posting this because this sentence made me laugh:
Turns out this is not the first time Santa has had a problem with his pants.
Gotta patch those pants before going on stage, Santa! Good thing a violist was there to help out.
At this time of year we cut the reeds at the top end of the river beyond the bridge, land ward access is by a muddy narrow path across the marshes. Its a bleak place with nothing but the birds, the water the wind and the huge bowl of the sky. We use a reed cutting machine which has huge wheels to stop it getting stuck. It rows up the reed in swaths ready for making into a fathom, thats a bundle 6ft round. Its hard work and the reeds are as sharp a razor blades. The reeds we cut today are called double reed because they are two years old.
Now I can at least say that not ONE of my reeds is two years old. Whew.
I’m just too lazy to bother posting a video here tonight, so visit score Desk and click on the multitude of links there to watch and here Puccini.
“The generous public support to save Shakespeare Santa Cruz has set a shining example for the American arts. This may be a local event, but it has national importance.” – Dana Gioia, Chairman, National Endowment for the Arts
Total Raised: $416,417
I blogged about this on 12/18. They managed to make their $300,000 plus some. Nice!
Es ist ein Ros entsprungen
Btw, if you are reading this, you are an oboe teacher, and you are relatively cheap but also really good (as if a cheap yet really good oboe teacher would be reading my blogs in their spare time randomly) then email me – I need lessons!! :D
I’ve always wished I could learn oboe, but have also wondered if the double reed would present issues. Bassoon is a big instrument. My gf’s older sister played and that thing just takes tenacity. It’s cool once you get good on it, but it takes a long time to make it sound good.
Kids, never trust an alarm clock.
-Jonathan Biss
Funny story.
So says the newscaster in the following video:
Ah, you say you want it in it’s pure, no-word form? Fine then:
Hark the Herald Angels Sing
I believe that music is the most important when the music stops. When a piece ends, that’s when I really measure what effect it had on me or those who heard it.
-Michael Tilson Thomas, born December 21, 1944
Here is the Maestro with SFS doing Firebird:
Part 1
Part 2
When I’m playing Nutcracker I get into the pit before nearly everyone else, and I rarely leave the pit during intermission. I’m in a location that just isn’t convenient to escape, and I prefer getting into the pit before I have to step over a bunch of people and avoid knocking over instruments. (Early on in my “pit career”, as I was maneuvering the nearly full pit, a violist plainly said to me, “Those that are in the center of the pit should enter before those who aren’t,” or some such thing. I took his advice.)
I’m usually in the pit about 30 minutes prior to the A. I have a lot to unpack what with two instruments and a number of reeds I need to dip in water. I want to warm up. I need to check a few things on the instruments, making sure an adjustment is still correct. So I have my little routine and I’m happy with it.
During intermission I usually pull out a magazine and attempt to read. I don’t do very well, because I’m frequently distracted by the “pit audience” peering at us. There are times when I think I understand how a zoo animal feels; it does sort of seem as if we are caged down there, and parents and children don’t feel at all uncomfortable pointing at us and talking loudly about what we do. Sometimes I wonder, though, about the parents. They talk louder than necessary. Are they talking to their children, or are they attempting to let us know they know what they are talking about? Hmmm.
Sometimes they ask me what I am playing. I’m fine with that, although getting into long conversations about how they played in high school and think maybe they should get back into music so they can play in our orchestra is a bit frustrating. Hearing someone marvel at the fact that we are professional musicians and actually do receive an income (no, I never divulge what I earn) is frustrating too, as they sometimes imply we should do this for free. But oh well!
Sometimes they really do know. Yesterday I got a lesson in how the harp pedals work.
Sometimes they really really really (get the idea?) don’t know. They point to an oboe and call it a clarinet. They call a bassoon an oboe. They share their knowledge loud enough that I wonder if I should look up and say, “Well, actually this is an oboe!” But I hate to disagree with a parent in front of their wide-eyed children. Hmmm. What to do, what to do?
Me? I sit there and stifle my little laugh. Who needs to embarrass a parent … right?
Dan sells photos. Just so you know. :-)
Here is another in his egret series.
I’m home, eating dinner between the two Nutcrackers we have today.
Some people go out to dinner. I live about 7 minutes away, so I can easily get home. Socializing would probably be a good idea for me, since I’m such a hermit, but I really wasn’t up for it today.
So here I am. And no one is home.
No, this doesn’t make me sad and lonely. It means I relax and recuperate. I do love my family, but I am also fine with solitude. And my computer. :-)
Part 1:
Part 2:
