Submission by Janey
Snooty Academic Item du Jour:
The plural of terminus ante quem is termini ante quos. That is all.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
The Thesis
Submission by Janey
Apologies for what might be a kind of boring post, if you're not quite as much of a music dork as I am. Bear with me, though, since my monumental task this fall is to write my master's thesis. I'm a baroque cellist, and I'm getting a combined degree in that and musicology. So I'm writing a thesis and doing a lecture recital on the same topic. It's been surprisingly difficult to find a topic that is both musicologically juicy and musically challenging, actually. In general, my academic interests have run both earlier and later than my performance interests (and abilities). I think Medieval and Renaissance vocal music and the way it intertwines with culture is really interesting. I think popular music is underserved by academics, and occupies a fascinating place in modern society. But, let's face it guys, a lot of aspects of Baroque music have been done to death. Hence my bewildered bemusement to find myself staring down a thesis on Handel, one of the most done to death composers I can think of. Sure the music is great, but what more can there possibly be to say, you might ask? Quite a bit, in fact! As a cellist, I was stunned to learn that no one has ever really gone through to find all the bits that Handel wrote for cello solo. They're there, we all know it. And I'm setting out to find them, among other things. Because I am who I am, I'm also motivated by a desire to stick it to the Keyboard Mafia. Continuo is NOT in fact synonymous with harpsichord! Damn the man! Ahem. Anyway, I'm hoping to draw some interesting conclusions about the relationship between Handel's solo cello writing and his continuo lines.
Apologies for what might be a kind of boring post, if you're not quite as much of a music dork as I am. Bear with me, though, since my monumental task this fall is to write my master's thesis. I'm a baroque cellist, and I'm getting a combined degree in that and musicology. So I'm writing a thesis and doing a lecture recital on the same topic. It's been surprisingly difficult to find a topic that is both musicologically juicy and musically challenging, actually. In general, my academic interests have run both earlier and later than my performance interests (and abilities). I think Medieval and Renaissance vocal music and the way it intertwines with culture is really interesting. I think popular music is underserved by academics, and occupies a fascinating place in modern society. But, let's face it guys, a lot of aspects of Baroque music have been done to death. Hence my bewildered bemusement to find myself staring down a thesis on Handel, one of the most done to death composers I can think of. Sure the music is great, but what more can there possibly be to say, you might ask? Quite a bit, in fact! As a cellist, I was stunned to learn that no one has ever really gone through to find all the bits that Handel wrote for cello solo. They're there, we all know it. And I'm setting out to find them, among other things. Because I am who I am, I'm also motivated by a desire to stick it to the Keyboard Mafia. Continuo is NOT in fact synonymous with harpsichord! Damn the man! Ahem. Anyway, I'm hoping to draw some interesting conclusions about the relationship between Handel's solo cello writing and his continuo lines.
The Lean Season
Submission by Janey
This just in: Academics and performers have even one more thing in common! Relative poverty! Shocking, I know. You may be more or less affected depending on your department, location, trust fund, student loans, etc., but we all know that to be a grad student means always going to the department meetings for the free pizza, grabbing every free sample targeted at undergrads on the street, and eating as many beans as we can possibly handle without destroying our relationships with our roommates. This constant state of scrimping gets worse in the summer, as performing ensembles go on vacation, student jobs go on hiatus, and we have to spend our money on festivals, conferences, and the like. If you're so lucky as to have conned your institution out of a stipend, chances are good that will also go on vacation without you, leaving you awkwardly backing out of plans with friends who are gainfully employed all year round and see the summer as a great time to spend some hard earned money. I've observed that this is worse among students, but even professional musicians that I've talked to have to save up for this off-season. Lots of us have our day jobs, but when you're making less than $12,000 a year in Boston any decrease in income can be a challenge. If you're alive at the moment (and maybe even if you're not) you don't need me to say that money is harder to come by. The concert grants, stipends, scholarships, and travel reimbursements are the first to go. Something no one talks about, but I suspect something everyone thinks about, is how the hell we ended up in an unappreciated field, competing with one another for money that is rapidly disappearing. Performing, and academia, have long been labors of love, thankless work rewarded by "a feeling of accomplishment," "knowledge that you're contributing to humanity," and, if you're lucky, tenure. For many of us musicians, we have to add the reward of "help yourselves to hors d'oevres, oh I'm sorry did you think your time was worth MONEY!? How charming!"
This just in: Academics and performers have even one more thing in common! Relative poverty! Shocking, I know. You may be more or less affected depending on your department, location, trust fund, student loans, etc., but we all know that to be a grad student means always going to the department meetings for the free pizza, grabbing every free sample targeted at undergrads on the street, and eating as many beans as we can possibly handle without destroying our relationships with our roommates. This constant state of scrimping gets worse in the summer, as performing ensembles go on vacation, student jobs go on hiatus, and we have to spend our money on festivals, conferences, and the like. If you're so lucky as to have conned your institution out of a stipend, chances are good that will also go on vacation without you, leaving you awkwardly backing out of plans with friends who are gainfully employed all year round and see the summer as a great time to spend some hard earned money. I've observed that this is worse among students, but even professional musicians that I've talked to have to save up for this off-season. Lots of us have our day jobs, but when you're making less than $12,000 a year in Boston any decrease in income can be a challenge. If you're alive at the moment (and maybe even if you're not) you don't need me to say that money is harder to come by. The concert grants, stipends, scholarships, and travel reimbursements are the first to go. Something no one talks about, but I suspect something everyone thinks about, is how the hell we ended up in an unappreciated field, competing with one another for money that is rapidly disappearing. Performing, and academia, have long been labors of love, thankless work rewarded by "a feeling of accomplishment," "knowledge that you're contributing to humanity," and, if you're lucky, tenure. For many of us musicians, we have to add the reward of "help yourselves to hors d'oevres, oh I'm sorry did you think your time was worth MONEY!? How charming!"
Pandora's Box (empty, of course)
Submission by Janey
I love Pandora. I enjoy doing experiments where I start a station with a single artist and see what happens. I don't rate anything, so its selection is not influenced by my own tastes. If I like the station, then I'll claim if for my own and start giving it input. The experiments began when, in a class, someone said, "Who IS like Bjork? What would happen if you started a Pandora station with her?" "Let us find out!" my sense of academic curiosity exclaimed. Turns out that station was really weird. Other experiments have included The Beatles (that one turned into a great station, and is a testament to how influential the group was and continues to be), The Arcade Fire (a surprisingly generic station, but vastly improved once I meddled and added Radiohead as a seed artist). Which leads me to a new challenge: Musical Crossbreeding. What do you get if you cross Aerosmith with John Meyer? Or Beethoven with Oasis? Do any of you have interesting stations? Any suggestions or successes related to musico-genetic experiments?
I love Pandora. I enjoy doing experiments where I start a station with a single artist and see what happens. I don't rate anything, so its selection is not influenced by my own tastes. If I like the station, then I'll claim if for my own and start giving it input. The experiments began when, in a class, someone said, "Who IS like Bjork? What would happen if you started a Pandora station with her?" "Let us find out!" my sense of academic curiosity exclaimed. Turns out that station was really weird. Other experiments have included The Beatles (that one turned into a great station, and is a testament to how influential the group was and continues to be), The Arcade Fire (a surprisingly generic station, but vastly improved once I meddled and added Radiohead as a seed artist). Which leads me to a new challenge: Musical Crossbreeding. What do you get if you cross Aerosmith with John Meyer? Or Beethoven with Oasis? Do any of you have interesting stations? Any suggestions or successes related to musico-genetic experiments?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)