Back in the City

We're back in the City, only for a bit. It's the week of the Columbia commencement festivities and Edna's getting her degree (actually she's gotten it but we're attending the ceremonies). The City's fantastic if a little overwhelming. It's great just to ride the subway again and hear the screeching of cars, the crazy honking, the incessant siren calls, all the filth and sludge from garbage left out too long. It's just great. I haven't had much time for myself, cause Edna's parents are here to and in-between Edna wanting to meet friends and having to bring her parents around, I've become the de facto arranger of things. It's nice though, to re-visit Chinatown and all the food places that we used to love (and still do). I managed to sneak in a visit to Labyrinth Books, and pay one of my Oral examiners a visit, but that was about all. We're leaving soon, to slow old Lansing. So ...

Swing Time

Here's something that I've been practicing pretty religiously. It's a swing / Jazz version of that traditional tune "My Grandfather's Clock". I'll say right off the bat that it isn't a very good play through because my fingers are still having lots of trouble wrapping themselves around the jazz positions smoothly. Also, I think the recording doesn't do justice to the walking bass of the arrangement, which is really a crucial component of the piece.

Grandfather's Clock

For those out there interested, this arrangement can be downloaded free from this website. It's by Mark Hanson, who is a superb musician and author of really fantastic finger-style instruction books. His playing is masterly without being showy, and trying to do the things that he does without a second-thought is pretty darn difficult. If you've been playing guitar for a while and want to get into more interesting stuff, here's a great resource. Anyway, check out the free tab on his page!

Mark Hanson Tab

Andrew Hill

Here's the NY Times obituary / article on Andrew Hill, another phenomenal musician. I've put in links to Amazon for the significant albums in the middle of the article. "Point of Departure" is the album to listen to. Not only does it have him, it has Joe Henderson and Eric Dolphy in amazing form and the very young Anthony Williams who was already playing in one of Miles Davis' great groups.

By BEN RATLIFF

Andrew Hill, a pianist and composer of highly original and sometimes opaquely inner-dwelling jazz whose work only recently found a wide audience, died yesterday at his home in Jersey City. He was 75.

The cause was lung cancer, said his wife, Joanne Robinson Hill.

It took almost 40 years for Mr. Hill’s work to be absorbed into jazz’s mainstream. From the first significant album in his discography (“Black Fire,” 1963) to the last (“Time Lines,” 2006), his work is an eloquent example of how jazz can combine traditional and original elements, notation and pure improvisation, playing both outside and inside strict time and harmony.

Mr. Hill was born in Chicago in 1931 — not Port-au-Prince, Haiti, as his early biographical information read, and not in 1937, as he often stated. He started playing music at 7, by learning the accordion; beginning at 10, he said, he taught himself how to play piano.

He eventually played be-bop with local musicians in Chicago, and worked on the road with Dinah Washington, Johnny Hartman and Dakota Staton. He got a chance to play with Charlie Parker at the Greystone Ballroom in Detroit in 1954. A job with Roland Kirk (later Rahsaan Roland Kirk) brought him to New York in the early 1960s.

In those years Mr. Hill was perceived as a kind of extension of Thelonious Monk, 20 years after Monk’s emergence. Both were brilliant composers, and played in a style suited to their own writing. And both careers benefited from the enthusiasm of Alfred Lion, from Blue Note Records, who was so enthusiastic about Mr. Hill that he recorded five albums’ worth of material in eight months.

Those five albums were “Black Fire,” “Smokestack,” “Judgment,” “Point of Departure” and “Andrew!!!,” and much of Mr. Hill’s reputation rests on them. With some of the best musicians at the time — Joe Henderson, Kenny Dorham, Roy Haynes and others — the records occupied an area between hard bop and abstract jazz. Some of the music was structured strangely, yet there was a strange emotional resonance in the writing, a cloudy romanticism.

Mr. Hill was unsuccessful in finding much of an audience for his work after the mid-1960s, and found it hard to maintain bands or work in clubs. But he was also committed to the idea that the jazz bandleader could live as a composer, not just a nightclub entertainer. He sought arts grants and worked increasingly as a solo performer on the college circuit.

He lived in upstate New York during the early 1970s, and then in California; in the 1980s, he recorded for the Soul Note label in Milan.

In 1989 he was signed again to Blue Note, which had been recently resurrected by EMI, making the albums “Eternal Spirit” and “But Not Farewell,” and beginning a renewal of interest in his early work. That same year, after the death of his wife Laverne, he moved to Oregon to teach at Portland State University until 1996, when he returned to the New York City area, and re-entered the map of jazz. His wife Joanne Robinson Hill survives him.

In his remarkable final decade, Mr. Hill led several bands, including a sextet, a big band and a quartet including the trumpeter Charles Tolliver. He made three new albums, all well received. In 2003 he received the Danish JazzPar Award, the biggest international honor in jazz.

Finally he was signed for the third time to Blue Note, recording “Time Lines.” Much of his early recorded work came out on CD, including 11 albums recorded for Blue Note during the 1960s that had never been released. At last, his challenging music was being performed or adapted by other musicians.

Mr. Hill’s last performance was at Trinity Church in Manhattan on March 29. On May 12 he is to receive an honorary doctorate posthumously from Berklee College of Music.

Death of an Artist

The death of cellist Mstilav Rostropovich reminded me of one of my favorite pieces of music. It's Beethoven's Triple Concerto and I'm listening to the "historic" recording that Rostropovich made with Herbert von Karajan right now. Being somewhat of a closet (and superficial) enjoyer of classical music, the Triple Concerto is something that I can really say th'at I like very much (see, my appreciation of this stuff is only on the scale of "like", "don't like", or "like very much". The Triple Concerto was one of the first discs of classical music that I owned. That was a recording that featured Yo Yo Ma, Anne Sophie Mutter (both looking and being pretty young) and von Karajan. (For some reason, I've been searching in vain for it for several years now ... must have lent it to someone) Anyway, here are links to Amazon samples:

Good Miles Program

I happened to be listening to some BBC early this morning and stumbled across this Miles Davis program, which takes a tour through Miles Davis' early work. While I've listened to all these tracks already, the BBC program places it in nice context, all within a single hour.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/radio3/jazzlibrary/pip/2qtbc/

It'll only be online until Friday 27th April, though.

Dog Days

I haven't been writing here or anywhere for that matter, because for the past three months, my life has revolved around fulfilling the needs of this little guy. She's our 4.5 month old Golden Retriever, Sourdough Cherry ("Cherry" a contribution from Edna's boss cause she's growing up in Michigan). I've never lived in a house with a dog 24/7 before and making sure that Sourdough's needs are met has been pretty challenging. Here's a typical day:

7am: If I'm lucky and she hasn't woken up earlier, open up crate and let her out. At night, the slightest noise can set her off (ie she'll bark for attention) so even when I need to go to the loo at 4 am, say, I need to go softly and gently. We're actually pretty fortunate puppy owners cause Sourdough is holding her bladder the entire night.
7.02: Leash her and bring her out for the first in a series of potty sessions.
7.10: Training. We figured that for a dog to live properly with people, you've got to make sure that they behave properly. So we do short training sessions throughout the day. Sourdough's learning how to do all the doggy things. She'll sit and down quite reliably (and was the "stay" champion of her puppy class). She also gets a healthy dose of "come", "leave it", "follow" and "paw". She's not very good with roll though, always trying to get the treats I'm using.
7.30: Food. There's a whole galaxy of info out there about what's good and what isn't. Sourdough had a few troubling weeks of soft-stool (meaning we were up all hours cause she had to poop all the time) so we feed her dog food with white rice and veggies.
8.30: The first of four walks.
9.00: She mooches around the house a bit, sometimes I put her in the crate and go do my stuff. By 9 am, and after the walk, her first burst of energy is usually used up. She'll potter around for a bit and make feeble attempts at playing with her toys but she usually goes to sleep.
11.30: Time for her second walk. These walks and going outs have two functions. First, they teach her that she can only pee and poop outside, on the grass. Sourdough's learning this pretty quickly. The only times that she's had accidents in the house is when I ignore the signs. The second reason for walking her a lot is to tire her out. Apparently lots of behavioral problems (barking, chewing on furniture, jumping UP on furniture) with puppies come from boredom and a tired dog is a happy dog. There are lots of differing opinions about how often and long to walk a puppy ranging from "only five minutes" to "as long as you want".
2.00: Time for walk number three. Part of walking Sourdough is to train her to walk "loose leash" properly, which we'll translate into a "heel" later on. Most dogs that I've walked (and are acquainted with in Singapore) pull on the leash. It's really counterinstinctual for dogs (at least medium and large ones) to walk at a human's pace, so walking beside the walker needs to be trained. Essentially, if Sourdough pulls on the leash, we don't go forward. On a "bad" session, we can take ten minutes to walk 100 yards. When I first began this regime, it was "start-stop" all the way. But when she's in the "zone" now, she can walk for 15 minutes without pulling while keeping right at my side.
2.30: She eats again. We do three small meals because her stomach wasn't doing well on two larger ones. We've become obsessive "poo" watchers and the nature of puppy stool colors many a conversation: "Was it logs that she pooped?" (Logs are good ...) "Yeah, two medium logs and three little softish plops at the end ..." There are other poop details (color, smell, what I find in it) but it ain't for public consumption (!)
5.00: After an afternoon lull (she sleeps most of the afternoon away), she goes for a fourth and final walk. This is usually the most challenging time of day to walk her. Lots of people, dogs, sights, smells. Sourdough REALLY likes people. She'll do anything for a pet, stroke and cuddle. But not everyone likes dogs. A few weeks ago, when we paid a visit to Ann Arbor, I sat outside a cafe with Sourdough. She must have been pet by at least 100 people. I suppose people don't normally take puppies on days out (though it's supposed to be essential for socialization) so lots of people wanted to pet her. So with people, I'm working on her being calm first before being pet. It's really hard for her to contain herself, though.
5-6.30: After the walk, is when her high energy phase kicks in. Evenings are all about her playing maniacally with her toys, romping around the house and dashing here and there. I would like to eleminate all that behavior entirely, but apparently puppies do get these moments of "craziness". When she's excited, she needs to pee VERY often. I'll take her down and then she'll bark to pee again fifteen minutes later. Accidents happen when I regard her pleas to pee with cynical disbelief.
6.30. Final meal. And then more romping.
7.00 to 11. She plays a little but usually is pretty worn out by now. She'll sleep, potter around, sometimes wake up and be playful for a bit then doze off again. It's usually in the evening that I sit on the floor and allow her to climb into my lap (even that's a controlled process in this household ... cause we don't want a dominant, pushy dog).
11 pm. After several outs, she gets her last out at 11 pm, where she pees and heads straight for her crate when she comes back. And we do it all over again the next day!

The pic above is of Sourdough when she first came. It's her "New York Dog" pic because the cool bowl was given by Edna's friend when we were leaving New York. This picture has an older Sourdough. She looks more like that now. Notice her right leg. This is when she sits in her anyhow manner. She can sit properly if she wants to but saves that for formal occassions.

Daily

What I've been doing daily is no doubt a student's dream.
I wake up and work on some Old English in the first part of the morning. This usually brings me up to lunch time. Then I usually move on to some Middle English, and for the past two weeks I've been reviewing some Chaucer (it's frightening how little I remember). Towards the evening, I turn to my "theoretical" texts, so it's been a lot of Freud lately.
Having structured my life around a job (in some shape or other), I find this sequence of doing things quite necessary to keep me on track: my great fear is that I'll just while away the time doing nothing.

From the Middle of Nowhere

So here's from the middle of nowhere.
Having been here (Lansing,Michigan) for a about three weeks, the most exciting thing that happens is figuring out when it's going to snow and freeze over. I'm not exactly complaining, but the relative isolation of this place is the REAL culture shock for me. I think moving here from New York has been a greater "change" than moving from Singapore to New York.
We're going to be here for at least a year and I suppose that being monastic for a year isn't too bad. At least I am assured that if I don't get my work done, it's all my fault and I can't blame anything (or anyone) for distracting me.
The nice things about this place are that there's a lot of sky and sunlight. We used (in the New York apartment) to be shocked everytime we walked out of the house at how "bright" it really was outside because our old apartment was in the shadows of taller buildings all around. But our present apartment's really nice and our huge windows open out to a wide field. I actually think things are super bright now because of the snow which reflects even more light off the ground.
I've also managed to check out the MSU library, which is pretty decent. The nice thing about it is that there are no security checks and everyone is welcome to walk in and use the library, which works out well for me. But I'm staying home today and wrestling with more Old English!

Some Delta Blues

Here are two verses of a delta blues piece called "New Pony Blues" by Stefan Grossman. The hard driving rhythmic style of the delta blues makes it really fun to play. Even though there's no constant thumping bass, the implied beat in the way the syncopation works carries the whole thing forward!

New Pony Blues

Blues to Myself

In the last piece, I posted a recording I did with two guitars going at the same time. With the inferior recording technology that we have (ie none, save my laptop, which is actually, some ...) I think it was decent. That rendition also captures the excitement of playing guitar with someone else -- it's really fun. But I've done another recording of part of the same piece (this time at a slower beat ...to contrast getting caught up in the moment with a more measured interpretation) and then laid down a second track that just has a blues solo part. I think the results are decent -- and I played a little with the effects on Garage Band, to try to differentiate the two guitar parts more clearly. Have a listen! (it's only 35 secs long!)

Blues to Myself