As I was heading out of the Loop tonight at rush hour, I was dismayed at the backlog of traffic near Clark & Jackson. Squeezing my bike toward the front of the intersection, I could see several policemen stopping all vehicular, bicycular and pedestrian traffic. I asked one of the cops how long the delay would last, and he told me, "Just wait two minutes." Much to my annoyance, the surrounding intersections also appeared to be blocked off, so I couldn't maneuver around the blockage. I silently fumed and exchanged irritated looks with the biker next to me.
Then a slew of flashing police cars sped down the street, followed by a series of black SUVs. It was Obama's motorcade! As we all cheered and craned our necks, you could see Obama (or a look-alike?) chatting on his cell phone, waving to the crowds outside. He passed not even 10 feet away from me!
As it so happens, today's NYT featured a nice article on Chicago's resurgence in national importance since the election. I was particularly amused at the way the article draws broad generalizations on the attitudes of Chicagoans: we are "humble," have a "strong sense of self," and "comfortable to losing." In other words, we have endured years of playing second fiddle to New York, but good old-fashioned Midwestern sensibilities allow us to brush the water off our backs. And though I resent being stereotyped, a lot of it has basis in truth.
Chicago, as Carl Sandburg writes, is a no-nonsense city. It does not have the urbane sophistication of New York, the liberal elitism of San Francisco, or the political clout of Washington. What it can offer though, is a slice of down-to-earth pragmatism topped with the amenities of an urban center. We tout our deep-dish pizza and hot dogs, but we are also home to the jibarito. You can take in the drunken revelry in Wrigleyville after a Cubs game, or you can check out a Lyric Opera performance in the Millenium Park.
So here's to Chicago's increased national prominence! I still don't support the city's 2016 Olympics bid (I think we have too many infrastructure problems and not enough money to host that), but I am proud to call the city home, and even prouder that Obama is a fellow Chicago resident. At least until Jan 20th.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Monday, November 17, 2008
Don't Panic, Stochastic Calculus Edition
The midterm results are in, and they're not pretty. With a mean of 33 and a standard deviation of 18, we can safely say that this is not a normal distribution (assuming non-negative scores). It's been a while since I've taken an exam with such a low mean; it almost brings back nostalgia for the Engineering Math sequence. As I waited for the TA to find my test, a slew of 7s, 15s and 18s flashed by, and I began to silently hyperventilate. You know things are not good when your score < your age. Moreover, the stakes are higher now than in undergrad. I not only have my transcript, but $2,500 on the line, since the Fed won't reimburse me for tuition unless I get a C or above.
I knew this wasn't going to be an easy test, but I severely underestimated Prof Mykland's exam-writing abilities. Perhaps I should have known better when he related this anecdote on his PhD class: "I offered my class of ten students automatic As if they showed up for the exam...and 2-3 of them decided they'd rather skip it." When he announced that he wasn't allowing calculators, I thought that simply meant computations would be more tedious. In reality, that meant the exam would be completely theoretical.
In retrospect, perhaps I should have paced myself a bit better. We had 3 hours to complete 3 questions...and it wasn't nearly enough time for me. I ended up getting full credit for the first question, but by the time the 3rd question rolled around, I was so frustrated that I didn't even bother attempting to get partial credit, I just threw out the last page.
Anyways, I managed to beat the mean, though not by a healthy amount. Mykland reassured us that the vast majority of students receive As and Bs overall, and that if we did better on the final, those results would count in full. Never mind that the material covered on the final will be much harder. Mykland did say that he'd try to tone it down a bit for the final, since usually he gets means of "at least 40-50."
Student: "I understand that you don't want to write an exam that's too easy, but how am I supposed to feel about getting a 33 when I'm interviewing for jobs? If someone were to ask me about martingales, I would not say with confidence that I understand them very well."
Mykland: "Well, as evidenced by what's happening on Wall Street, I'd say a great many people don't understand them very well...if anything, I don't want to give anyone the illusion of understanding. The more you know, the more you realize you don't know."
Sigh. Okay, I can figure out the Itô integral of a deterministic integrand in the next three weeks...
I knew this wasn't going to be an easy test, but I severely underestimated Prof Mykland's exam-writing abilities. Perhaps I should have known better when he related this anecdote on his PhD class: "I offered my class of ten students automatic As if they showed up for the exam...and 2-3 of them decided they'd rather skip it." When he announced that he wasn't allowing calculators, I thought that simply meant computations would be more tedious. In reality, that meant the exam would be completely theoretical.
In retrospect, perhaps I should have paced myself a bit better. We had 3 hours to complete 3 questions...and it wasn't nearly enough time for me. I ended up getting full credit for the first question, but by the time the 3rd question rolled around, I was so frustrated that I didn't even bother attempting to get partial credit, I just threw out the last page.
Anyways, I managed to beat the mean, though not by a healthy amount. Mykland reassured us that the vast majority of students receive As and Bs overall, and that if we did better on the final, those results would count in full. Never mind that the material covered on the final will be much harder. Mykland did say that he'd try to tone it down a bit for the final, since usually he gets means of "at least 40-50."
Student: "I understand that you don't want to write an exam that's too easy, but how am I supposed to feel about getting a 33 when I'm interviewing for jobs? If someone were to ask me about martingales, I would not say with confidence that I understand them very well."
Mykland: "Well, as evidenced by what's happening on Wall Street, I'd say a great many people don't understand them very well...if anything, I don't want to give anyone the illusion of understanding. The more you know, the more you realize you don't know."
Sigh. Okay, I can figure out the Itô integral of a deterministic integrand in the next three weeks...
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Cantate, Final Bows
A blazing six weeks later, Cantate concluded its fall season this weekend with two concerts. Now I can go back to dairy products and cigarettes! We recorded Sunday's concert, so at some point I should have clips if anyone's curious.
The concerts went well, though there were a few minor hiccups that I doubt the audience noticed. In the Barber, one of the alto entrances that we've struggled with was weak. I also caught myself singing a whole step off for a measure during "A Boy and a Girl." And let's just say that the Ives featured a little bit of free jazz modulation; I'm pretty sure we had shifted keys by the end. No matter, we still came away with uproarious applause from the audience.
(Update) An interesting excerpt from an audience member's email that went out over the listserv: "I heard 'Sleep' - loud and clear - immediately upon the completion of the encore piece. It's a beautiful thing when one leads another to hear the sounds of life. Yet there are no words to describe the power and richness of leading another to hear the precious, complex sounds of the silences of life."
Undoubtedly, I've improved and learned a lot about how to be a better singer. It's one thing to go to a karaoke party, and belt out Mariah Carey. It's quite another to sing in an ensemble, with people singing in half-steps above you, or to sing clearly and sweetly without vibrato, which is all too often used to cloud tones. I can eyeball intervals and sing them without breaking a sweat, and I've come to believe that the true test of a vocalist is not how well you can sing loudly, but how controlled you can sing quietly.
Having never joined a church or country club or the like, it's neat to be a part of a community group. The ages of members run the gamut from recent college grads to white-haired elder statesmen who have been part of Cantate since its inception. Our professions are myriad; I've met a civil engineer, a first-grade teacher at Cabrini-Green, a musical therapist and a tae kwon do instructor.When we aren't focusing on uniform vowel sounds, you can hear a variety of American, Australian and Southern accents. For the first time, I feel like I belong to an organization that is a true microcosm of society, unlike the insular academic bubble of Cornell or the Fed.
Okay, that's a lie. We are still overwhelmingly white and yuppie, as evidenced by the 3 Kleen Kanteens and 2 Sigg bottles (including my own) that I counted at rehearsal. Furthermore, when our director asked last week if anyone knew whether the Bears had won, none of us had a clue. On the other hand, at least two of us are cyclists and one of us runs marathons. The group also seems to be more religiously devout than average. Perhaps church choirs and Catholic school choirs serve as feeder mechanisms for vocalists? And naturally, we are all more musically-inclined than usual. Some of us sing semi-professionally with other area choirs, like the Chicago Symphony Chorus and Grant Park Chorus, and others have their own bands.
So, I guess that's a wrap for the next few months, until the spring concert gets planned. It's funny to think that I've spent hours with this group of people over the last month, and now we will part ways and perhaps never see each other again. Luckily, there are things like email and Facebook (I was somewhat surprised at how many people have accounts, and it seems to be mostly independent of age). At some point, I will probably go see Emily perform, since she plays at Uncommon Ground fairly often. And Tracy actually works on LaSalle, a mere block away from the Fed, so we can get together for lunch.
The concerts went well, though there were a few minor hiccups that I doubt the audience noticed. In the Barber, one of the alto entrances that we've struggled with was weak. I also caught myself singing a whole step off for a measure during "A Boy and a Girl." And let's just say that the Ives featured a little bit of free jazz modulation; I'm pretty sure we had shifted keys by the end. No matter, we still came away with uproarious applause from the audience.
(Update) An interesting excerpt from an audience member's email that went out over the listserv: "I heard 'Sleep' - loud and clear - immediately upon the completion of the encore piece. It's a beautiful thing when one leads another to hear the sounds of life. Yet there are no words to describe the power and richness of leading another to hear the precious, complex sounds of the silences of life."
Undoubtedly, I've improved and learned a lot about how to be a better singer. It's one thing to go to a karaoke party, and belt out Mariah Carey. It's quite another to sing in an ensemble, with people singing in half-steps above you, or to sing clearly and sweetly without vibrato, which is all too often used to cloud tones. I can eyeball intervals and sing them without breaking a sweat, and I've come to believe that the true test of a vocalist is not how well you can sing loudly, but how controlled you can sing quietly.
Having never joined a church or country club or the like, it's neat to be a part of a community group. The ages of members run the gamut from recent college grads to white-haired elder statesmen who have been part of Cantate since its inception. Our professions are myriad; I've met a civil engineer, a first-grade teacher at Cabrini-Green, a musical therapist and a tae kwon do instructor.When we aren't focusing on uniform vowel sounds, you can hear a variety of American, Australian and Southern accents. For the first time, I feel like I belong to an organization that is a true microcosm of society, unlike the insular academic bubble of Cornell or the Fed.
Okay, that's a lie. We are still overwhelmingly white and yuppie, as evidenced by the 3 Kleen Kanteens and 2 Sigg bottles (including my own) that I counted at rehearsal. Furthermore, when our director asked last week if anyone knew whether the Bears had won, none of us had a clue. On the other hand, at least two of us are cyclists and one of us runs marathons. The group also seems to be more religiously devout than average. Perhaps church choirs and Catholic school choirs serve as feeder mechanisms for vocalists? And naturally, we are all more musically-inclined than usual. Some of us sing semi-professionally with other area choirs, like the Chicago Symphony Chorus and Grant Park Chorus, and others have their own bands.
So, I guess that's a wrap for the next few months, until the spring concert gets planned. It's funny to think that I've spent hours with this group of people over the last month, and now we will part ways and perhaps never see each other again. Luckily, there are things like email and Facebook (I was somewhat surprised at how many people have accounts, and it seems to be mostly independent of age). At some point, I will probably go see Emily perform, since she plays at Uncommon Ground fairly often. And Tracy actually works on LaSalle, a mere block away from the Fed, so we can get together for lunch.
Saturday, November 1, 2008
Halloween, Bar Golf Edition
We're nearing the end of the year, and that means a barrage of major holidays, including the triumvirate of Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas. Now, it's not that I don't love my family, but Thanksgiving and Christmas have never been huge deals for us. Moreover, we generally don't roast a turkey (the one year we did it, everyone hated eating turkey for weeks afterward), so over the years, we have variously cooked things like shabu pots, lobster and duck for meals. My extended family is also geographically dispersed, so although relatives will occasionally fly in, holidays are not usually the equivalent of a family reunion. My point is, we have never subscribed to the classic American Thanksgiving/Christmas, so it's a little weird for me to see people going gaga over eggnog and cranberry sauce shaped like a cylinder.
On the other hand, Halloween is a holiday that is, at least in my mind, defined by creativity. For one day out of the year, you must come up with a costume that is transformational (wearing only devil horns doesn't count), topical (current events references are a plus), low-cost (preferably created from thrift store supplies) and warm (to battle frigid fall temperatures). It goes without saying that storebought costumes are anathema to this philosophy. In recent years, I have dressed up as magnetic poetry, a Wiimote, a whiteboard, and an accident-victim cyclist.
For this year's costume, I shamelessly stole a tip from MF. I took a bunch of tampons and pads, colored them blue, taped them all over me, and arrived as Picasso's Blue Period. That's right, a perfect combination of ironic wit, high-brow intellectualism, and gross-out humor. I was attracting quite a few stares as I walked around Target in this outfit.
The rest of the Fed Crew included Juno (Haley) and Bleeker (Nate), Derek Neal (Erik), Harry Potter (Ricky), and House (Chris). The plan was to play a modified version of bar golf, with various ways to earn points by either spotting something (Joker, Michael Phelps, Ben Bernanke) or performing an action (scoring a free drink, making somone scream, getting a phone number). Unfortunately, we didn't make it to all 9 "holes" in our "course." In fact, we only managed to hit two places before bars began closing at 2 am. I blame the lengthy queues to get inside and to get drinks. I'm also disappointed that there weren't more political costumes (but "naughty" nurses abounded, of course). For the duration of the night, I only saw one Sarah Palin. Appropriately, she did cause a bit of a kerfuffle by stumbling and knocking over a RedEye newspaper dispenser. Take that, liberal media!
I suppose I shouldn't judge because we managed to start some commotion as well. While walking between bars, Colin (Nate's friend visiting from MD) was casually talking to some guy dressed as Misty May, when he suddenly knocked Colin's sunglasses off his nose. Naturally, Colin was quite peeved at this provocation from a guy wearing a sports bra, and the two of them started fighting. We quickly broke up the fight, as in, Ricky and Nate got between the other guy and his friends while Chris tried to talk Colin down psychologically.
Chris: You are completely justified in your anger.
Colin: Motherfucker *@#)!(*%!
It was a pretty awesome cap to the night.
As for Thanksgiving, like last year, I will be staying in Chicago, partially so I can study for an upcoming final exam, but mostly because it's not worth the plane ticket and time to travel home for Thanksgiving. At any rate, it looks like Chris, Erik and Ricky are going to be in town, so we'll be concocting an "Ungrateful Wretches" feast, which will be vegetarian, of course. I've volunteered to personally hunt and kill a tofurkey. No seriously, I have some excellent recipes up my sleeve for killer mashed potatoes and cornbread stuffing. Also, a great recipe for sweet potatoes and curried lentils. What, that's not at traditional dish at your Thanksgiving?
On the other hand, Halloween is a holiday that is, at least in my mind, defined by creativity. For one day out of the year, you must come up with a costume that is transformational (wearing only devil horns doesn't count), topical (current events references are a plus), low-cost (preferably created from thrift store supplies) and warm (to battle frigid fall temperatures). It goes without saying that storebought costumes are anathema to this philosophy. In recent years, I have dressed up as magnetic poetry, a Wiimote, a whiteboard, and an accident-victim cyclist.
For this year's costume, I shamelessly stole a tip from MF. I took a bunch of tampons and pads, colored them blue, taped them all over me, and arrived as Picasso's Blue Period. That's right, a perfect combination of ironic wit, high-brow intellectualism, and gross-out humor. I was attracting quite a few stares as I walked around Target in this outfit.
The rest of the Fed Crew included Juno (Haley) and Bleeker (Nate), Derek Neal (Erik), Harry Potter (Ricky), and House (Chris). The plan was to play a modified version of bar golf, with various ways to earn points by either spotting something (Joker, Michael Phelps, Ben Bernanke) or performing an action (scoring a free drink, making somone scream, getting a phone number). Unfortunately, we didn't make it to all 9 "holes" in our "course." In fact, we only managed to hit two places before bars began closing at 2 am. I blame the lengthy queues to get inside and to get drinks. I'm also disappointed that there weren't more political costumes (but "naughty" nurses abounded, of course). For the duration of the night, I only saw one Sarah Palin. Appropriately, she did cause a bit of a kerfuffle by stumbling and knocking over a RedEye newspaper dispenser. Take that, liberal media!
I suppose I shouldn't judge because we managed to start some commotion as well. While walking between bars, Colin (Nate's friend visiting from MD) was casually talking to some guy dressed as Misty May, when he suddenly knocked Colin's sunglasses off his nose. Naturally, Colin was quite peeved at this provocation from a guy wearing a sports bra, and the two of them started fighting. We quickly broke up the fight, as in, Ricky and Nate got between the other guy and his friends while Chris tried to talk Colin down psychologically.
Chris: You are completely justified in your anger.
Colin: Motherfucker *@#)!(*%!
It was a pretty awesome cap to the night.
As for Thanksgiving, like last year, I will be staying in Chicago, partially so I can study for an upcoming final exam, but mostly because it's not worth the plane ticket and time to travel home for Thanksgiving. At any rate, it looks like Chris, Erik and Ricky are going to be in town, so we'll be concocting an "Ungrateful Wretches" feast, which will be vegetarian, of course. I've volunteered to personally hunt and kill a tofurkey. No seriously, I have some excellent recipes up my sleeve for killer mashed potatoes and cornbread stuffing. Also, a great recipe for sweet potatoes and curried lentils. What, that's not at traditional dish at your Thanksgiving?
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Lockwood
So, thanks to a tip from Jen, who works for a company that evaluates service, I have a new gig as a mystery shopper for hospitality firms. The application involved a few questions probing your experience in the hospitality industry and some short essays to assess writing ability. As a former hotelie who is currently not working in the hospitality industry (and thus would not have any conflicts of interest with clients), I qualified handily.
Perusing the database of available assignments, it was quickly impressed upon me that all of these places were fairly upscale and quite pricey. Oh boy, getting paid for meals and hotel stays at places I can't/choose not to afford! Plus, I'd be able to take a guest with me. How much better could this get? I signed up for a bar evaluation at Lockwood, the restaurant at the Palmer House Hilton. Soon after, my inbox began to be barraged with paperwork on how to evaluate my experience. Hmm, there might be a catch to this "free food" deal after all...
The assignment was to go to Lockwood, order two rounds of drinks from the bar, and then order food from the bar menu. I was asked to pay close attention to the bartenders while handling cash, ask for a generic drink (such as a vodka tonic) to see if they upsell the drink, and identify a manager by the end of the night. If I didn't see a manager, I was supposed to ask for one. A list of suggested conversation topics with the manager was provided, including the prompt "Why doesn't this wine list have more South African wines?" Hah, somehow I don't think I'd be able to pull that line off. Oh, I also needed to meticulously remember times (when the food was ordered, when it arrived, when the plates were cleared, etc), appearances of the employees (without using race as an identifier), and whether employees smiled and made eye contact. And those were just the major items. Needless to say, in total, there was a four-page long checklist of items to observe. Have I mentioned how unobservant I generally am? Like the time I participated in a psych experiment designed to test eye witness accuracy, and I didn't even notice the mugging happening in the video?
For extra reassurance, I brought Jen with me for this first evaluation. After all, she probably knows better than me what to look for. We sat down at the bar, and I nervously watched our bartender like a hawk, while trying to hold up a conversation with Jen. After a while, I did start to relax (or maybe it was the alcohol hitting my bloodstream), but having to monitor and scrutinize the experience definitely puts a damper on happy hour. Luckily, a manager was clearly visible, so I didn't have to awkwardly ask for one. The highlight of the night was definitely the food; we ordered the Kobe beef sliders and the bruschetta, and both were fabulous, definitely a step above your usual bar food. The bruschetta in particular was innovative, and was presented in three small crocks that included roasted red and orange bell pepper, portabello mushroom, and heirloom yellow and orange tomato.
Immediately afterwards, I went home and began writing up my evaluation report. This took quite a bit longer than I'd anticipated, as I racked my brain to remember who cleared my glass, or how long it took for our food to arrive. There were a few mistakes made (they didn't ID us, a credit card wasn't held for our tab), but overall, I thought the experience went well. Next week, we'll see how good my write-up was because each report gets scored for completeness and style. Hopefully, the number won't be abysmal and I'll be able to keep signing up for new evaluation opportunities.
Update:
-Time Out Chicago's review of Lockwood from Jan '08 roundly pans the restaurant. Oh my, I did not have the same experience at all. Evidently things have improved since the beginning of the year?
-Critiquing the Critics, from Lockwood Executive Chef Phil Foss (the rest of his blog is quite entertaining as well)
Perusing the database of available assignments, it was quickly impressed upon me that all of these places were fairly upscale and quite pricey. Oh boy, getting paid for meals and hotel stays at places I can't/choose not to afford! Plus, I'd be able to take a guest with me. How much better could this get? I signed up for a bar evaluation at Lockwood, the restaurant at the Palmer House Hilton. Soon after, my inbox began to be barraged with paperwork on how to evaluate my experience. Hmm, there might be a catch to this "free food" deal after all...
The assignment was to go to Lockwood, order two rounds of drinks from the bar, and then order food from the bar menu. I was asked to pay close attention to the bartenders while handling cash, ask for a generic drink (such as a vodka tonic) to see if they upsell the drink, and identify a manager by the end of the night. If I didn't see a manager, I was supposed to ask for one. A list of suggested conversation topics with the manager was provided, including the prompt "Why doesn't this wine list have more South African wines?" Hah, somehow I don't think I'd be able to pull that line off. Oh, I also needed to meticulously remember times (when the food was ordered, when it arrived, when the plates were cleared, etc), appearances of the employees (without using race as an identifier), and whether employees smiled and made eye contact. And those were just the major items. Needless to say, in total, there was a four-page long checklist of items to observe. Have I mentioned how unobservant I generally am? Like the time I participated in a psych experiment designed to test eye witness accuracy, and I didn't even notice the mugging happening in the video?
For extra reassurance, I brought Jen with me for this first evaluation. After all, she probably knows better than me what to look for. We sat down at the bar, and I nervously watched our bartender like a hawk, while trying to hold up a conversation with Jen. After a while, I did start to relax (or maybe it was the alcohol hitting my bloodstream), but having to monitor and scrutinize the experience definitely puts a damper on happy hour. Luckily, a manager was clearly visible, so I didn't have to awkwardly ask for one. The highlight of the night was definitely the food; we ordered the Kobe beef sliders and the bruschetta, and both were fabulous, definitely a step above your usual bar food. The bruschetta in particular was innovative, and was presented in three small crocks that included roasted red and orange bell pepper, portabello mushroom, and heirloom yellow and orange tomato.
Immediately afterwards, I went home and began writing up my evaluation report. This took quite a bit longer than I'd anticipated, as I racked my brain to remember who cleared my glass, or how long it took for our food to arrive. There were a few mistakes made (they didn't ID us, a credit card wasn't held for our tab), but overall, I thought the experience went well. Next week, we'll see how good my write-up was because each report gets scored for completeness and style. Hopefully, the number won't be abysmal and I'll be able to keep signing up for new evaluation opportunities.
Update:
-Time Out Chicago's review of Lockwood from Jan '08 roundly pans the restaurant. Oh my, I did not have the same experience at all. Evidently things have improved since the beginning of the year?
-Critiquing the Critics, from Lockwood Executive Chef Phil Foss (the rest of his blog is quite entertaining as well)
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Rehearsal Time
Cantate rehearsals have started, and if I had to choose one word to describe them, it would be "intense." We've set two concert dates in mid-November (Fri the 14th and Sun the 16th), and in less than six weeks of rehearsal, we will have learned 14 pieces. Gulp. I basically skated through chorale rehearsals at Cornell, feeling no obligation to practice on my own. Here though, I feel as though I'm learning to walk a tight rope without a safety net. Since the group is small, there's usually only one or two other people singing my voice part. I've befriended Tracy, a fellow Alto-1 who is also new to the group. Unfortunately, she is generally more lost and clueless than I am, so I am the one taking the lead. And unlike any other instrument, if you lose your note or get out of tune, it can be very difficult to correct yourself.
Moreover, the repertoire is fairly challenging. Chords are unintuitively complex, time signatures are constantly changing, and the Ives piece is written with different key signatures for the women and men. After a particularly painful run-through of the Barber Reincarnations, our director commented wryly, "Some of us need to put this one under our pillows. Some of us are doing just fine." Tracy and I gave each other baleful looks.
Right now, we're only focusing on getting the notes correct and rhythms accurate. There are a host of other stylistic issues that I need to think about, from the way I pronounce my x's (split the sound into k-s such that "lux" turns into "luk-s") to learning how to breathe (in less obvious places). Almost everyone else has more extensive choral experience compared to me, so while I'm encountering a lot of new ideas for the first time, this is standard stuff for the others. I'm thrilled that this group is giving me room to grow as a musician, but man, do I have a lot of work to do.
I could really use a keyboard.
In the moments when everything comes together, our sound is hands-down gorgeous. Today's rehearsal ended with a spiritual, a free-flowing outburst of joy and emotion. As our voices echoed through the nave, I marveled at how these 16 random people had come together to produce a work of art in unison. And just as quickly, it was gone, and we went our separate ways.
Moreover, the repertoire is fairly challenging. Chords are unintuitively complex, time signatures are constantly changing, and the Ives piece is written with different key signatures for the women and men. After a particularly painful run-through of the Barber Reincarnations, our director commented wryly, "Some of us need to put this one under our pillows. Some of us are doing just fine." Tracy and I gave each other baleful looks.
Right now, we're only focusing on getting the notes correct and rhythms accurate. There are a host of other stylistic issues that I need to think about, from the way I pronounce my x's (split the sound into k-s such that "lux" turns into "luk-s") to learning how to breathe (in less obvious places). Almost everyone else has more extensive choral experience compared to me, so while I'm encountering a lot of new ideas for the first time, this is standard stuff for the others. I'm thrilled that this group is giving me room to grow as a musician, but man, do I have a lot of work to do.
I could really use a keyboard.
In the moments when everything comes together, our sound is hands-down gorgeous. Today's rehearsal ended with a spiritual, a free-flowing outburst of joy and emotion. As our voices echoed through the nave, I marveled at how these 16 random people had come together to produce a work of art in unison. And just as quickly, it was gone, and we went our separate ways.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Don't Panic!
This article is one of the best accounts of the last two weeks of financial turbulence out there. It's written in layman's terms; if Dan Brown wrote a thriller about Wall Street, this would be it.
Times are very bad indeed, and with every new development, I am reminded that I am living and experiencing unprecedented events, while working from the Fed no less. We had a town hall meeting yesterday afternoon, to give an overview of the financial market turmoil and answer questions about how the Fed has been impacted. I decided to ask what would happen if the bailout bill didn't pass, what other magical tricks does the Fed have in its bag? The answer wasn't exactly comforting.
When I went home for the day, there was a quartercard attached to my bike, inviting me to join a protest against the Fed next week. Among other things, this group was protesting the bailout because it was "illegal" and "immoral." LMAO. Should I join in on Monday morning?
Times are very bad indeed, and with every new development, I am reminded that I am living and experiencing unprecedented events, while working from the Fed no less. We had a town hall meeting yesterday afternoon, to give an overview of the financial market turmoil and answer questions about how the Fed has been impacted. I decided to ask what would happen if the bailout bill didn't pass, what other magical tricks does the Fed have in its bag? The answer wasn't exactly comforting.
When I went home for the day, there was a quartercard attached to my bike, inviting me to join a protest against the Fed next week. Among other things, this group was protesting the bailout because it was "illegal" and "immoral." LMAO. Should I join in on Monday morning?
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