Death, Speed, and random thoughts

About two months ago, people were mourning footballer Gary Speed's death. People were astonished about it: a good faithful man, both to football and to his family. A happy guy who goes to club with his former teammate. Why, why did he hang himself up without any anticipating signs, any portents?

And after all, why does a good man die this way? A suicide?

As I have watched him play since I was young, concurring many newspaper reports, he has high standards for himself and is always disciplined. At the age of 38 he plays first-team for Bolton, a English Premier League team. (That's kinda incredible.) Does this discipline drive him crazy?

It's not hard to imagine a man, at night, being troubled but doesn't want to trouble people. We may never know his problems. For him, it's an ultimate sadness.

And it stroke a chord for me. I would not venture to say I'm facing anything at the level of difficulty and troubleness as he does. Sometimes, people hit the pillow, weep, and not be able to maintain peace.

And surely, it's a time to disturb people. Many prefer you to disturb them, than to lose you. And when people disturb you, think that it's time to help, time to save a life, time to rescue a smile.

When I grow up, I start to realize freedom and death are closer than I thought. I could steal something in 10 seconds and then get caught. Dangerous drivers are around me. Deep sadness could be somewhere in everyone's heart.

And don't forget to disturb people.

I was gonna say "life is beautiful", or "life gives a lot of meanings", or smth like that. I'll also add that it's a choice. One can live in sorrow, by nihilism, or perhaps, some (anti-Nietzschean) optimism, which I believe in.

Projecting the Pierrot Project

As a non-Western student, Pierrot is not an inherent part of my culture, and I knew nothing about him before I started this project, not even how he looks. I must have seen the mask before, but I cannot associate it with Pierrot, since no one told me about it, and I didn't happen to read about it.

This is a Pierrot artwork by Toru Iwaya in 1976.
He is white-faced, and the only character in commedia dell'arte without a mask. The commedia is an improvisatory theater that started in Italy in the 16th century. He is one of the zanni, humorous character. Usually in a family troupe, the youngest son who sleeps in the straws with the animals takes up the role of Pedrolino (Pierrot in Italian.) Despite having no political power in most personal relationships, and suffering from unrequited love, he "never loses his dignity". (quoting John Rudlin) He is only a fringe character.


It spread to France and the German states, died out in the late 18th century (not totally sure) as throughly-written theater was preferred over improvisatory ones. (Didn't that happen to music as well?) It enjoyed a new life from the 19th century on, thanks to the famous actor Deburau. He also brought Pierrot into the central stage. Schumann's Carnaval has a movement for Pierrot (1834-35):

The commedia characters are frequent in carnivals in France, Germany, and Austria. That sounds kinda cute, but Pierrot began to symbolize anxiety and the uncanny in at the end of the 19th century. 

If you don't know the Pierrot traditional tune, listen to this. It's one of the cutest children's songs.


It also began to be associated with the moon. Look at the right top corner of Toru Iwaya's picture above. You can also sense sadness, loneliness/alienation.


And someone added drunkenness to it. Albert Giraud wrote 50 rondel burgamesque poems on Pierrot lunaire (usually translated as Moondrunk Pierrot, but in fact the content, not the French title, suggest "drunkenness". lunaire means "of the moon" (adjective)). Otto Erich Hartleben artfully translated/ adapted all into German. Schoenberg picked 21 and wrote some music. Ugly music. But that's how history is written. Ugly music, finally, is recognized as music.

Pierrot is a character. He may or may not look ugly. But is his surroundings full of ugliness? Let me end with a section from Baudelaire's poem Le Cygne.


"I saw a swan that had escaped from his cage,

That stroked the dry pavement with his webbed feet
And dragged his white plumage over the uneven ground.
Beside a dry gutter the bird opened his beak,

Restlessly bathed his wings in the dust
And cried, homesick for his fair native lake:
"Rain, when will you fall? Thunder, when will you roll?"
I see that hapless bird, that strange and fatal myth,

Toward the sky at times, like the man in Ovid,
Toward the ironic, cruelly blue sky,
Stretch his avid head upon his quivering neck,
As if he were reproaching God!

Paris changes! but naught in my melancholy
Has stirred! New palaces, scaffolding, blocks of stone,
Old quarters, all become for me an allegory,
And my dear memories are heavier than rocks."

You can say... this is French problem, not German! Oh well... there is a similar sensibility, and there are local differences, too. That's what I wrote about in my paper.

But don't you think it's awesome that the collection of Baudelaire poem is called Fleurs du mal? That's everything in one small, small image. Intensely emotional title. Think of it, perhaps as a black-and-white pocket-size photo (there is a better, cooler, more professional word for "pocket-size photo"... darn, ESL...)

The complete poem, in French and English translation is available here.

Let's not let it stale; FTM vs AMS

And that's why I write now.
Happy thanksgiving.

The past month, as you can guess, has been hectic. I would say I accomplished quite a lot and experienced a lot. I think I grew at least a little.

Let me outline some similarities and differences between the FTM and the AMS:
1. It's easier to correlate contents and theories across sessions in FTM. In the AMS, topics are totally different across the wall.
2. It's easier to socialize at FTM, whereas in AMS, you feel like everyone has known one another, and the newbie easily gets lost.
3. However, in some cases, it is easier to meet people at the AMS. There is a large book exhibit where people hang around when they're not sitting in sessions. People there are free to talk to.
4. In both conferences there are good and bad papers.
5. The variety in AMS is stunning. It's really good for me to browse different areas of research, including music and philosophy, western colonial music, keyboard music, feminist theory, Beethoven, etc.
6. There is no keynote speech in AMS.
7. There is no free coffee in the morning in AMS.
8. There is a buddy program in AMS, where a senior become a mentor for a first or second time AMS attendant. Last year, my friend said his mentor never showed up. This year, we shared a very kind-hearted mentor, assistant professor for Belmont University.
9. FTM papers can be more extreme and exciting. I can never imagine Elizabeth Gould's paper on lesbian performativity in Joan Sutherland's and Marilyn Horne's "Flower Duet" can appear in AMS. But gosh, that's a provocative paper!
10. There are junior papers in FTM. In AMS, papers are more mature.
11. There are independent scholars as well as scholars from Germany in the FTM. In AMS, there are a few from UK, and one from Taiwan.
12. FTM has a more contemporary interest than AMS. The repertoire on contemporary music is much larger in the form, ranging from Johanna Beyer to Diamanda Gallas and Bitch. There are also much more interest in fringe artist-musicians.
13. In a way, the selection in FTM forces me to know different kinds of music, which is very good. That includes different kind of pop and American music. In AMS, I'll just go to European and Asian-western music sessions.
14. FTM has a few non-music scholars, from literature and sociology departments. In AMS, there is a one from history department, but she always hangs around at Eastman, as far as I know...
15. Susan McClary is in both.
16. Richard Taruskin argued with a speaker in the AMS, an exciting scenario that I barely missed!!!
17. There is a cute mom and cute baby in the FTM. No babies in AMS.

Music, and Critique to Critiques to "Occupy Wall Street"

Let's start with some music: this is what a social movement could sound like.

There are a few quick points that I'd like to make.
1. One may say this piece of music is so happy. Try to think in the following ways: a) look at the freedom and equality of the musical elements, and how everything work together. Isn't this a reflection of an ideal society? And that's why people are enjoying this music. b) matching this positive, major key music, with a bitter 1% versus 99% world, isn't it ironic? Doesn't the movement also symbolize a postmodern, late capitalist irony?

2. Some critics said the movement lacks a clear goal, and therefore could not succeed after a quick boom in the press. I think, If the movement fails, it is not because of a lack of clear goal. If the movement succeeds, the fact that it doesn't have a clear goal plays a big role. Take these into account:
a) there are some people who are just suffering and have no idea how to get out of the vicious loop of suffering. They have their own problems. (Like the PhD who has no jobs, I think that guy doesn't represent the general PhD population!) They lack a clear goal, but would you say they shall stay home, surf the internet in the library to find jobs, instead of coming out to protest? The answer depends on whether you are a conservative or a neo-Marxist democrat who thinks that change has to be enacted in a new way.
b) There a lot of people in the movement who have ideas and plans. (To people questioning this: Zizek don't have an idea? I don't think so.) But they do not enforce it on others in order to formulate an "Occupy Wall Street Manifesto" or something akin. They were the people who have been subsumed under undesired categories, and they would not want to subsume others. In fact this is the core question of post-coloniality, and there are interesting resemblances here. It is the job of the government to negotiate between different power systems, and they are endorsed to do so by various elections. (which does not happen in Hong Kong, very unfortunately).

One thing I found out (actually stole from my professor's talking) is that looking at UK media does give a different picture of the event.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2011/oct/25/egyptian-protesters-occupy-wall-street
http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/cifamerica/2011/oct/27/occupy-oakland-not-beaten
Another thing that I really appreciate is the political ethics that I found.
http://communities.washingtontimes.com/neighborhood/tygrrrr-express/2011/oct/26/how-occupy-wall-street-protesters-destroy-working-/
In this final article, the author explicitly states that he is a "politically conservative columnist". He states his standpoint so clearly, and implicitly tells you there are alternatives to look at this issue. In the columns in Hong Kong and China, some authors are ambivalent about this. Or, maybe they just want to tell the readers that this is the right way to look at the issue, and, if you still have a free and open mind,  that is politically unethical.

Eagleton's Strategies; Why does the world need music scholars

This time, I analyze the strategies that Terry Eagleton uses in his “What is Ideology?” Ch. 1 in Ideology: an introduction. (London: Verso, 1991), and try to make an argument on a musical belief of mine.

Eagleton’s essay includes daily-life examples, deploys both “firm” and “flexible” propositions, and has a strategic organization in its argument. Daily-life examples ground the abstract term “ideology” in physical manifestations, and also prove the relevance of “ideology” to the reader. For instance,

“What, then, would be meant if somebody remarked in the course of a pub conversation: ‘Oh, that’s just ideological!’” (p. 3)

“Soviet Union is in the grip of ideology while the United States sees things as they really are.” (p. 4)

“Firm” propositions establish an authoritative image of the author, while “flexible” ones create space for the reader to further analyze the subject matter and make his/her own stand. By flexibly opening up a variety of possibilities in defining “ideology”, Eagleton also avoids counter-examples that may attack a narrower definition of the term. For instance,

            Firm: “There is no reason to believe in a post-Freudian era that our lived  experience need be any less ambiguous than our ideas.” (p. 20)

            Flexible: “What side you take up in this debate depends on whether or notyou are a moral realist.” (p. 17)

The essay, dealing with the complicated concept of “ideology,” is made coherent by a tactical narrative structure. Eagleton starts with random definitions of ideology, then goes on to analyze their individual connotations, as well as their mutual compatibility, contradictions, and implications. This leads to the central discussion on the politics of “ideology.” Before the conclusion section, the author prompts the nearing of argument’s closure by mentioning “the cynics,” a term closely related to the postmodernists that he rejects at an earlier part of the essay (precisely, in the “individual connotation” part I mentioned above). The end echoes the beginning by proposing different possibilities of “ideology,” this time in a much more organized manner.

Now, it’s my turn. Warning: this is no a scholarly essay.

The title is “Why does the world need music scholars?”

The global financial crisis worsens. Educational budgets are cut, and the Arts appear vulnerable because of their lack of financial productivity. It seems that the chemical-pharmaceutical PhDs who invent drugs, or the international relations MAs who work in the United Nations, or the BBAs who did internships at i-banks are more socially and financially relevant than aspiring music scholars.  Many of my friends, non-musicians, politely expressed their astonishment when I told them “I’m doing a PhD in music.” For sure, people like me have strong feelings toward our undertakings, but it is also fair to say that musical scholarship is hermetic in the public eye. How shall we present ourselves to others? Let me name some more or less random ideas:

(a) we write music history;

(b) we write music histories;

(c)  we narrate music verbally, supported by formal analyses on top of personal feelings;

(d) we judge and criticize music;

(e) we discover things that will change the current history textbook;

(f)  we produce critical scores for performers to play with, hence play an important part in delivering the composers’ intent to the audience;

(g) we observe and analyze sounds, silences and noises that may otherwise go unnoticed;

(h) we change people’s (musicians or non-musicians) perspectives on music;

(i)   we tell untold stories about music and musicians;

(j)   we tell existing stories from new perspectives;

(k) we speak for the dead and the repressed.

So on, and so forth. Some interesting observations come up. First, some situations can be described by more than one of these formulations. For instance, new research may tell untold stories of Beethoven (a dead person) and hence revise music history. Second, none of these formulations inhibit one another and this implies a liberty and variety in what music scholars can do. (a) and (b) exhibit ontological or presentational differences. One can use different kinds of formal analyses to repute or reconfirm existing beliefs. Third, some of these formulations have ambiguous boundaries with other disciplines, such as music critic and performing musicians. Fourth, all of the above are related to society, directly or indirectly. Hence, I suggest a few ways in presenting the music scholar’s social relevance.

Some of our work create new methods of appreciating music. They act as the mediator/ alienator between the public and the musician. They may also provide analytical tools to the sociologists and critical analysts. This category also includes people who strive for the most accurate representation of music and musicians.

            Some scholars look at how music functions in society from different angles. They reveal, for instance, representations of violence in classical masterpieces, and also speak for people/ musicians who are misrepresented by popular journalism and social thoughts. 

            And I must acknowledge music scholars who do basic research. As Jann Pasler phrases in the Critical Studies Seminar yesterday, "utility may not be circumscribed by people around the original finding". Some academic essays may seem  to lack utility or social implication at the moment they are presented and published. Nonetheless, we shall celebrate basic research just as the Nobel prize emphatically celebrates so, and not neglect its potential contributions.

            An action music scholar voices their social concerns loudly to the public. Leo Treitler wrote about the Gulf War on New York Times. Taruskin had his say on Boston Opera’s cancellation of Kinghoffer after 9-11. Similar efforts were made by, for example, Hon-Lun Yang in exploring the censored music in China, and Susan Cusick in writing on musical abuse by the American Army in Afghanistan. The lack of publicity, however, hindered the spread of their messages. (Cusick’s article only made it to the newspaper through Alex Ross’s column, and not many lines were devoted to it.) The most direct societal interaction is physical involvement, to have a music scholar deliver a speech or perform in public. Right now, I can think of non-music scholars such as Coco Fusco and Zizek (in his exciting speech in Occupy Wall Street).

After all, as a music scholar, we are not going to save the financial crisis (and, by the way, who can do that now?) We have different endeavors, meaningful ideals. Aspiring scholars, I contend, shall actively explain the value of musical scholarship to others in society. And don’t forget, the life of a scholar is far more than life as a scholar.

How do you tell stories to yourself about yourself?

For me, music is dreams that my family and friends and I create together. I have been walking from one dream to the next, without knowing where my next or final destination is.

My musical dreams give me life directions.  As a kid, I dreamed to be a musician and pianist, without knowing any difference between the two. As I continued to learn the piano, I aspired to be a pianist. It was perhaps the satisfaction of playing music, or the high marks I attained in music exams, that pushed me toward a musical career. During high school, I started teaching piano. I realized how fortunate I had been, nurtured in an encouraging environment and surrounded by a loving family, teachers and friends. I wanted to be a very good piano teacher, and I deemed it socially responsible to teach the right life and music matters to other people. A while later, when I was thinking about my future after college, a musicology professor told me I could pursue musicology. This seemed to go in line with my dream to be a leader in society, and to make this world a better place. I will be a knowledgeable and caring teacher, a music outreach leader, a cultural critic, and more. Dreams come one after another, and it seems that I will not eventually become a fixed object. Musical dreams always give me directions to somewhere. But what makes me dream? What makes my dreaming about music possible?

“I thank you [audience of the recital, mostly my family and friends] for making me who I am,” I wrote in the preface of my debut piano recital’s program booklet. It would be selfish not to acknowledge that the people and the environment around me influenced my identity greatly. But up to this moment, I cannot relinquish my ego, and I shall blatantly pronounce that I am the ultimate agent and an important partaker of my own life. My family and friends and I create all the musical dreams together. (Yes, it is in present tense.)

 Why did I write this essay? Why did I try to theorize my musical life in one page? A musical life is much more than that. Indeed, the messy brainstorming sheet is a far better reflection of my story! Without the artistic talent to reasonably reflect my musical life and its nuances by words, I hope the photo above will say something for me. 

Academic black humor

From Robert J. C. Young, White Mythologies 2nd ed.  p. 1

"The sunlight sinks over the golden buildings that tumble along the Malecon as it sweeps along the shoreline into La Habana Vieja. Sitting on the concrete wall, I stare out into the sea, towards Miami, thinking of the generations that have sailed into this harbor - the Spanish conquistadors, the shiploads of slaves from West Africa, British buccaneers arriving to capture the island in 1762, US troops arriving in 1898, US troops arriving in two thousand and... ? Cette implacable blancher: wave after wave of white conquerors have rolled in on the surf, wanting this island, coveted object of imperial desire."

1. The choice of examples, I think, are deliberate. Especially the double mentioning of US troops arriving.
2. "wave after wave of white conquerors" --> think about the color of big waves: they are white!!! That made me laugh when I was reading this on a bench in UCSD...
3. I wanna learn to write poetically!!!

This book questions the writing of history from a white perspective. I'm only in the intro, and the discussion on the limits of Classical Marxism fascinates me. It led me to explore Marxism not only as a stem to the contemporary Chinese communism, but as a historical (meta-)narrative and economic worldview. I look forward particularly to this book's critique of Fredric Jameson. Many musicologists depend on dearly on the term "postmodernism", and define it according to Jameson. Leo Ou-fan Lee has already pointed out his discomfort in Jameson's Westro-centric viewpoint that cannot fit modern Chinese literature. Yet, none of the literature I read, mostly musicological, have ever mentioned Young. Let me go for it!

This book opened up the whole field of post-colonialism, and yes, it is a monumental volume.

Problems in the Definition of Musical Modernism on NG

I just had a class in the literature department today. The course title is Modern Arts and Aesthetics. And so, I looked up on New Grove, and I quote:

Modernism first took shape as a historical phenomenon between 1883 and 1914. Before the death of Wagner, the term ‘modern’ was used interchangeably with ‘new’, ‘recent’ and ‘contemporary’. In its Wagnerian usage it also denoted an embrace of a wide palette of music as a means of conveying narrative and extra-musical content, as opposed to ‘absolute’ music. 

Two composers that came to my mind is Debussy and Berlioz.

Debussy, I think, mainly demonstrates the modernist attitude of negation. He consciously attempts to negate Wagner (although numerous literature have shown Wagner in Debussy's composition), in order to create French music. A more bourgeois type of modernism can be found in Augusta Holmes.

Berlioz's pose a huge problem to the NG description of modernism. Symphonie Fantastique was written in 1830, when Wagner was 17. Symphonie Fantastique is inarguably narrative, as Berlioz explains in his program notes. So, why did Leon Botstein demarcate Wagner as the line for modernism (between modernism and, say, pre-modernism)?

It is worth noting that Beethoven's Pastoral Symphony has descriptive titles, but the logic that works there is that music evokes texts/ imagery, not the other way round. (Vivaldi's Four Seasons is of a considerably different context, and I'll skip the discussion.)

Did Botstein choose Wagner because
- Wagner pushed tonality to its boundary (and soon after him we have post-tonality)?
- Wagner focused specifically on opera (or music drama), and the opera image on stage is a concrete manifestation of the musical rhetoric? (whereas, Berlioz wrote in a variety of genres, and his operas are diverse in style than Wagner's)

The following could be a partial answer

Issues of terminology aside, Modernism, throughout the 20th century, retained its initial intellectual debt to Wagnerian ideas and conceits regarding the link between music and history. The art of music was perceived to need to anticipate and ultimately to reflect the logic of history. In Wagner’s view, the imperative of art was a dynamic originality rooted in the past but transcending it.[...]  Legitimate originality in art was inherently progressive, oppositional and critical.

Feminist Theory and Music Day 3 and Day 4

I came across quite a few student article presentations on day 3 and day 4, and had some observations:

-          The subjects are often more “docile” and less “outrageous”. They tend to work within the boundaries. Surprises do not feature often. (So are papers I wrote before, I felt.)

-          Analyses on feminism or sound sometimes are less in depth. I felt that they tend to stay in a format of quoting and explaining, but there is a lack of fluid flow from one idea to the other.

-          The subjects are, nevertheless, provocative and usually have a lot of potential for further research.

Movie and music studies, and popular music studies by different people sometimes sound monotomous. The topics of irony (although in more than half of the cases they didn’t mention it) recurs. I think more effort can be devoted to music that reflects cultural problems, and how music actively shaped the cultural problems. That will make musicology useful for other disciplines. I also felt that many papers can be presented in other non-music conferences, especially ones that are related to violence.

The two papers on Diamanda Galas, done by professors in the UK and Germany, are puzzling. They tried to describe Galas’s music as unspeakable voice and weapon, but they metaphor failed to come through (to me, at the very least). There were a lot of quotes, interviews and descriptions, but the arguments were not clear and cogent enough.

That leads me to ask (again), is musicology “describing music”? This is an overly simplistic definition.

A quick note on skype article delivery: get good connection, and read slowly. Even better, try to ask the organizer to test the connection and speaking quality before the presentation. Read the article for about 10 minutes in the test, to see if the connection is stable. Sometimes it runs well in the first 5 minutes, but then it may just turn bad for some reasons.

The final speech by Judith Tick was inspiring. Her survey of feminist theory and music was efficient, and her wish-list for future musicological ambitions are practical and, necessary for the healthy development of the field.

I felt that there is a strong bonding between the scholars in the meeting. People are so genuine! It is perhaps because they have endured a long period of time where feminist musical criticisms have been suppressed. They now have their voice heard, but the potential is clearly not totally fulfilled.

Feminist Theory and Music '11 Day 2

If I didn't come to this conference, I wouldn't have known so much about the problems in academia.
The keynote speech this morning by Julia Koza was a something between thoughtfulness and painfulness (as the Chinese saying goes, the pain of cutting your skin). It was incredible that UW Madison had done research showing tenureship rates in the Arts is the lowest among different faculties in a university, and that in women is significantly lower than men. Sometimes I'm sick of feminists quoting heavily on discriminative speeches done/ passages written by men; but Koza put a compelling argument, and also avowed to act to help her fellows who have not gotten tenureship. It is also worth noting that less than 20% of women professors are able to have a child plus have tenureship at the same time by the age of 40. The percentage of men achieving those is significantly higher (Koza has the stats; it's my bad that i forgot.) After-panel discussions included stories of UCLA and UIUC, and how university trustees may affect tenureship policies.

The topic is, of course, related to Hong Kong, too. Not only people are looking for tenureship; the shelter of tenureship also enables members of the faculty to speak up, not like, as Koza says, "it's not a good time to die, now". Especially when the freedom of speech is in risk with mainland Chinese political influence, scholars in most cases will not speak against the government, or make political statements, if they do not have tenureship. As a result, there will be no meaningful musicological articles on post 1949 music in China. (Yes, I dare make this statement.)

A few presentations today focused on forgotten female contributors to music. Johann Strauss's Jr's wives (Zoe Lang), Jutta Hipp (Ursel Schlicht), Pauline Viardot (Natalie Emptage Downs). They successfully argued their importance, but I think we need another person to show us how they can be inserted to textbooks. Now we only know they should be in there. Another question would be about the ethics of writing history: writing history is what each and every musicologist is doing.

The paper session concerning E.T.A. Hoffman is of intense interest for me, since it deals with literature and music. The two papers on Hoffman broadened my sight on how we can write about them. My question would be how relevant the papers will be, to society? 1. A suceesful paper does not need to have this link; 2. Literature is innately tied to society, I know. But the link has to be outlined in each case, if the author wants to show that link.

Lastly, I would like to point to Elizabeth Gould's paper, offering a lesbian-seduction reading of the Flower Duet in Lakme in a particular performance. I will have to watch the video again to see if I agree with her, but she is definitely provocative and... that's why I love this conference. This is one of the frontiers of musicology!

Feminist Theory and Music '11 Day 1

A one-hour flight feels like 15 minutes and I'm in Phoenix, AZ. I won't regret that I'm here for this fantastic conference. I am basically an outsider to feminist theory, except that I read Susan McClary's book Music and Society (which was published like 20 years ago) and some of Rose Rosengard Subotnik's article. I saw that Phoenix isn't that far away from SD and flight ticket prices are reasonable, so I decided to jump onto the flight!

(Allow me to reveal my ignorance in the following passage, and close the browser if you don't wanna read on,)
The most exciting part, for me, is to see how the NYU violinist Megan Atchley embodied her feminist analysis to her performance. She cogently argued and pursuaded me that the expressiveness of the piano (soft volume) press bow in Saariaho's Nocturne for solo violin has a quality that echoes her identity as a woman. The soft dynamics could have been even softer given the medium-small size of the hall, but I was struck by the quality of both the verbal and musical work she did.
I feel fortunate that I get to know about the three waves of feminist theory movements and how that can be used persuasively, or how dangerous it can be if not cogently argued. It could have been as simple as "women being able to do whatever they like", or "women not doing whatever they like", but it's also much more complicated than that. Scholars always look closely into issues of agents and different views from the three waves of feminist theories.
I also got to know a lot more non-classical music, and how their politics (in the broader sense) is. That includes Bessie Smith, Led Zepplin, Tracy Chapman, Charles Mingus, Sarah Vaughan, cock rock and Spice Girls. Violence (domestic and/or sexual), irony, understanding, commercialization, and politics (in the narrower sense) are great, if sometimes distubing, food for thoughts.
And the post-presentation discussions were also fascinating. Mary Fonow and Susan McClary conducted lively discussions, and Ellen Kostkoff's comments are always trenchant. I didn't participate in any discussion. I think I will at some point, and right now I'm enjoying as a listener, seeing how minds cross.

Website for the conference: http://ftm11.events.asu.edu/
Will look forward to Day 2.

Such personal academic writing

I think a personal touch to an academic essay is magical. The author writes with her heart, and it connects me.
Allow me to quote at length the beginning of the preface of Jann Pasler's Composing the Citizens.

"Growing up in a post-Sputnik generation that valued scientific pursuits along with the American dream of economic prosperity, I understood the role of music in life as marginal. Music could entertain, distract, engross, and elevate, but it was not socially useful. Its proper place in society was secondary to other, more obviously serious or practical pursuits. Living in France changed my mind. At the age of nineteen, when I got lost in Paris and stopped a woman on the street for help, she gave me a glimpse of another perspective. Learning that I was a musician, she went out of her way to accompany me to my destination. It wasn't just her generosity that impressed me. There was a twinkle in her eye, a suggestion of some deeper knowledge about the meaning of her gesture. When I asked her why she'd gone to such lengths to help me, she explained that, when all is said and done, it is the arts that survive from out past. The arts ensure the continuity of civilization. This woman had known the way. She'd experienced the annihilation of much that she valued and loved. It wasn't that I represented the future, although my father, at my age, had been among those who had fought to liberate her people. It was the music. Seeing an opportunity to support someone involved with the continued creation of music, she smiled broadly."

Pasler is frank and is speaking the simple truth about music nowadays. "Music is not socially useful, or secondary to other pursuits" can be rebutted, but not without painstaking efforts and, for me at least, hard self-persuasion and determination. Then, it's the undergrad experience of traveling abroad. I can imagine Pasler (I just met her today), a college girl some 30 or 40 years ago, wandering in Paris. (Kind of occidental, or romantic, maybe?) The point is, the verbal expression seems to genuine to me and I am touch by her experience! I want to listen to her story.

This triggered a couple of thoughts of mine. The thought of my what-if decision to go to Palestine instead of UCSD has been back and  haunting me these days. I seem to have lost some possibility of genuine experience. Another thing is the whole musicology enterprise I'm taking on. Pasler's words makes musicology live for herself as well as for the reader (for posterity!) She is living up to the unique experience she has had. (And I hope I will live up to the unique exp I have had.) And musicology becomes a living discipline because it is about life stories. (I don't claim this is the only way, but this is an amazing way, isn' it?) It is a personal encounter, rather than exhaustible, exhaustive and exhausting analyses.

I look forward to reading this book, and writing in a similar manner some day.

Here is a short article/ interview on the book.

Art and Music/ Primitivism/ My Poem

There are many moments where a painting elicits musical sounds for me, or vice versa. When I listen to Debussy's cello sonata(1915), (his only cello sonata, and it's a striking use of the cello, at least for Debussy's time!) Gauguin's In the Vanilla Grove, Man and Horse (Dans la vanillère, homme et cheval)

Here's the music and the painting... okay. I confess, that when I listen to it again, the picture is not a perfect match with the music. The beginning phrase, played by piano solo, gives a green color, and a feeling of vastness. Cello, as many people have pointed out, has a human quality. It's quality is the closest to a human voice, among all musical instruments. I think it signals the entry of the person. The tone color change, which is initiated by both instruments playing softly, and more importantly, cello playing in high registers (therefore using a thinner string among the four, and using less portion of string to vibrate, and thus produce a more shrilly sound. However, if executed beautifully, the shrilly sound can be rendered round and sweet, as in the recording below.)

The second movement itself embodies more creativity, and it demands the same creativity from the performer. As for the style, I am so tempted to call it primitivism. With politically incorrect Orientalist eyes, I see weird people, or aliens walking in a strange way. Cello professor Alan Harris asks his student (and my friend) to play it in a weird way. Like really weird. 

The sonata is subtitled (by Debussy) “Pierrot fâché avec la lune” (Pierrot vexed with the moon).


The painting below is Paul Gauguin's In the Vanilla Grove Man and Horse, aka. the Rendezvous.

Gauguin was inspired in his excursion in Tahiti and had one of his most fruitful years in artistic output (1891). My general comment: the sharp color changes resembles Debussy's music. The visual depth is not created by space, but color. One can even argue there is no space depth. Unlike portraits, where the main character usually is situated in the middle, the Tahitan in the picture stands at the side, and lends space for nature to show itself. His contemplative face does not show clear emotions. Quite mysterious, and yes, Oriental.
More info on the painting on this external link.

And now, I'll share my spoils, a poem from the poetry session in Lyra Summer Music Workshop... (www.lyrasummermusic.com)

What makes me Blissfully Happy today

Beauty

  of friends, every friend

  of nature, every creature

  of music, every god-blessed - or god-damned - note, gesture and expression

  and finally, of weirdness, everything that seems to go the wrong way - or just another way.

I'll try to share more thoughts/ anecdotes about the relationship between music and visual arts in this blog. I really like that.

1) 9-11, and the Klinghoffer controversy// 2) the Hong Kong response

1. 9-11, and the Klinghoffer controversy
After 9-11 happened 10 years ago, the Boston opera decided to cancel the performance of John Adam's The Death of Klinghoffer. This opera puts on stage the story of the murder of Jewish-American Leon Klinghoffer on a passenger liner by hijackers of the Palestine Liberation Front. The untimely schedule of Boston opera's Adams production left the administration with a tough question after 9-11: whether to play or not play the production, since some people thought the opera is pro-Palestinian. Finally, they withdrew the plan and annouced the cancellation ofthe performance.

UC Berkeley professor Richard Taruskin, legendary musicologist, wrote on New York Times that he thought the cancellation is a "case for control". Whereas, many readers and critics responded with negative voices. Among them, UCLA professor Robert Fink believes that various musical elements and the elimated scene from Adam's original score should suffice for an non-anti-semitist argument. The latter would supplement the arguments of various newspaper readers and letter-to-the-editor writers, e.g., "Boston Symphony missed the point on art and grieving".

I was silent when this matter is discussed in last year's Music and Politics seminar. The matter seems to touch such a sensitive and sentimental American blood that I failed to respond verbally, only to subdue in silence. I was happy, however, that musicologists stood up for debates. We shouldn't be people who go ever deeper into the ivory tower, but rather, we should engage as social individuals.

------
2) the Hong Kong response
I was listening to RTHK, one of the biggest radio broadcasting companies in Hong Kong. As they were discussing the 9-11 issue, I found many people who were so good to call up to the radio, missed the nuance of the event. Many of them pointed to Americans being arrogant and, and the Americans were unaware of the underlying causes of the tragedy.
I can agree that there are a large number of Americans being ultra-conservative. But the ramification of the nuance require in-depth study and no one should say that "USA deserves that".

Beautiful prose (+ Orientalist imagination), and one disappointment today

The beauty of academic prose:
Let me quote Ralph Locke
"The librettists and Puccini here produce - even without Japanese musical motifs - an unsurpassed scopic and aural emphasis on Oriental (East Asian) feminine beauty and grace. This occurs at the level both of the group and - as the voice of the "happiest girl in Japan" soars above - of the individual. The moment could be regarded as the most oppressive in the work - the most quintessentially Orientalist, in the denigratory sense. All Asian womanhood, practically, is here reduced to a vision of loveliness, as if frozen in time, for the delectation of the Western gazer."
Ralph Locke "A Broader View of Musical Exoticism" in JM 24 no. 4 (2007).
In short, the last sentence give such a sweet perspective... like dolcissimo! The prose matches Locke's idea so well. (As opposed to expressing sweet ideas with prosaic passages). Despite the sweetness, academic authority is by no means lacking :)

Disappointment:
I was researching on Tan Dun's opera, and did some searches on Chinese journal databases... There is a clear sense of conformity, and a lack of questioning. In the case of questioning, a sense of imperialist revenge + newspaper gimmicking comes through. Examples:
1. "The First Emperor "Subverts" Western Opera"(《秦始皇》要“颠覆”西方歌剧)as title of an article (Tan said that, but i don't think he means that.) The article is from the journal Northern Music.
2. Chen Qigang describes music critics who bitterly criticizes Tan Dun as "parasites". (People's Music 12, no. 440 (2002)). (Yes, they don't start from no. 1 again each year.)

I feel, despite being conservative, embarrassing to reveal these to the world. Well, should I?

The Distortion of Musical Syntax: articulation of the fugue subject in Franck's Prelude, Chorale and Fugue

This is the question I had when I practiced yesterday. I haven't quite made up my mind on what to do, and I'd like to share with you some fragments of ideas.

The problem is here:

The fugue subject starts at "Tempo I", and it comprises of two parts: the first part consists of two "sighing motives"with anticipation, and I am referring to the first six notes of the fugue subject with the rests. The second consists of a descending line and a resolution, which represents the seventh to fifteenth note of the fugue subject.

How should I articulate the seventh and eighth notes? (the first two notes of the second part of the fugue subject)

The phrasing and syntax of the music as represented by the notation is curious. The slurs between the second and third, and fifth and sixth notes, form two sighing motives. The second and fifth notes are non-chord tones (with the implication of V - I or V - vi as the harmonic progression), resolving to the third and sixth notes. We can view them as appoggiaturas; Donnington (1974:197) states the art succinctly:
     The Italian verb appoggiare means "to lean" and implies an ornamental note expressively emphasized and drawn out before being more gently resolved on its ensuing main note. This is the true appoggiatura.

In the first part of the subject, the strong-weak syntax is notated. (Of course, how you link the two gesture is another question.) However, the beginning of the slur at the seventh note is on the weak beat. Should I emphasize the weak beat because it's the beginning of a (long) slur? Should the seventh be in quasi legato with the eighth?

Often, we find the best answer when we situate the question within the context, i.e. the whole piece of music. But in this case, that complicates the question.

Similar gestures has occurred in earlier places of the piece. Here are two important moments:

In the middle of the prelude, this capriccio section has forbade the fugue subject. Compare the articulation markings from the third measure to the first beat of the fourth measure, with those from the second beat of the fourth to the first beat of the fifth. Is it a similar problem as the one we have in the fugue?

After the Chorale (second movement), there is a bridge (Poco Allegro section) before the fugue commences. Take a look at the articulation of the fugue subject: it is different from the first appearance of the fugue subject in the "official" fugue. Pay attention also, to the gesture on the right hand at the end of the upper system. The anticipation of the top voice forces the gesture to cross across the bar line. Rhetorically, it creates doubt. The doubt is enforced by the transposition of the same gesture in different register, eventually withers into the void. "Not the right way," said Franck, and we're off to another attempt to reaching the fugue.

In the middle of the second attempt, the withering gesture propagates. Notice the difference between the phrase marking at its first appearance (final beat of measure 2 to second beat of measure 4)  and its second (final beat of measure 4 to second beat of measure 5). Is the first gesture an adventure, and does the A-sharp outside the phrase marking represent hesitation? (Although the harmony at the final beat is V over I, I think A-sharp does sound foreign, even exotic and sexy, given the B as bass note.) Is the inclusion of the C-double-sharp in the second gesture a confirmation of the success of the adventure? (And therefore, the fugue starts after the germination of this gesture?)

This brings us to the fugue, the subject matter of today. The second presentation of the fugue subject at the alto voice (top voice in the second system) is marked differently from the first presentation in articulation. The second part of the subject has its first note detached from the phrase afterward. The weak beat emphasis occurs after the fugues subject. After two gestures of weak beat emphasis, the strong beats begins the slur again.

What can we make out of this labyrinth given to us by Franck? Here's my suggestion:


Same-note upbeat to a sighing gesture: hesitation and anticipation (a dialectic), or simply an assured anticipation, to the ensuing sighing gesture. Decision depends on the context and the performer's interpretation.
Slurs (long or short) on the downbeat: smooth gesture.
Slurs on a fourth beat: deliberate distortion of the four-beat syntax, to be emphasized. The distortion is always rectified by subsequent appearances of the right syntax. This distortion is a dissonance in syntax, leading to a right, thus consonant syntax.

Coming back to the opening question, I will play it (the first note of the second part of the fugue subject) quasi legato, with more emphasis than the same-note anticipations that precede. It is as though a continuation of the exploration, or this time a trial and error, although the fugue has started (formally, it has started.) The fixation point of the fugue subject articulation is at the second appearance of the subject. Interestingly, the articulation is the same as that in the opening of the bridge section. (At this point, I play the bridge with a lot of planned hesitation. But none of the recordings of the masters is doing that.)

Three more things to say:
1. I believe the distortion of syntax appears in poetry! But I don't' know about them. Does anyone know?
2. I guess someone in the music theory circle has said similar things. I want to know who they are and how they theorize, and what how to they label it.
3. Well, I admit, when I play it on the piano, it's another art. Enough bullshit.