Submission by Janey
Musicological Oh Snap! du jour:
(Regarding the Scarlattis)
"Domenico's operas and cantatas are as devoid of character and interest as Alessandro's tiresome toccatas for the cembalo."
Edward Dent, Alessandro Scarlatti: His Life and Works
Showing posts with label Janey. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Janey. Show all posts
Friday, March 26, 2010
Friday, February 5, 2010
Welcome
Please scroll down to find introductions by many of our contributors. Item 1 is an introduction, Item 2 is the first Question Of The Week: Why early music?
-Janey
Janey
Submission by Janey
1) My name is Janey, and I am a baroque cellist and somewhat reluctant gambist. I've been around early music for as long as I can remember, perhaps unsurprising since both my parents were early musicians themselves. I've been playing cello for about 16 years, which is appalling. I've been a whole-hog baroque musician for about 6 years, which is maybe even more appalling. I was a student at Oberlin, and am in my final semester of a graduate degree in historical performance and musicology at Boston University. Somehow, I thought the musicology part of that would fulfill something for me, but that's turned out not to be the case. I'm in the process of figuring out what my direction in life is going to be and was struck by how much of what I've learned about early music as a profession and a way of life has been haphazardly acquired by accident and through blood, sweat and tears. Thus, my motivation for starting this project, which I hope will be a place for us provide windows into the complicated life most of us have chosen. (Sorry, I introduced myself and the project at the same time!
2) I've always loved early music. My mother was a harpsichordist, and my dad is a recorder player. They never forced early music on me, but it certainly showed up in my musical atmosphere from well before I was even born. My dad taught me to play piano when I was young, but when it was time to use my left thumb above middle C I suffered a complete meltdown and quit. I got over that for the most part, but remain somewhat wary around the large heavy beasts. Anything that could kill you by breaking a string deserves some skepticism, I think. My journey to actual early musicianship started with my general dissatisfaction with playing modern cello. I loved making music, and I loved a lot of the music, but frankly I was never very good at vibrato. I learned that instruments without endpins weren't so tricky after all from the fabulous Zoe Weiss while at Oberlin, and through that class came to the attention of Catherina Meints. Though I knew her through my parents, I'd never really worked with her. I'm vaguely aware that I played in a masterclass with her at some point growing up. I think it was a couple of Bach minuets, but I don't remember anything else about the experience. After I started gamba, I forced my way into joint lessons with another person she was recruiting. It was all downhill from there, and here I am working on a thesis on Handel and the cello. I never stopped playing tenor gamba, but I finally bothered to start actually playing bass this past summer via the Baroque Performance Institute at Oberlin. I'm totally stuck in early music now, since playing at 440 sets my teeth a little on edge, constant vibrato makes me scowl, and endpins just feel wiggly.
1) My name is Janey, and I am a baroque cellist and somewhat reluctant gambist. I've been around early music for as long as I can remember, perhaps unsurprising since both my parents were early musicians themselves. I've been playing cello for about 16 years, which is appalling. I've been a whole-hog baroque musician for about 6 years, which is maybe even more appalling. I was a student at Oberlin, and am in my final semester of a graduate degree in historical performance and musicology at Boston University. Somehow, I thought the musicology part of that would fulfill something for me, but that's turned out not to be the case. I'm in the process of figuring out what my direction in life is going to be and was struck by how much of what I've learned about early music as a profession and a way of life has been haphazardly acquired by accident and through blood, sweat and tears. Thus, my motivation for starting this project, which I hope will be a place for us provide windows into the complicated life most of us have chosen. (Sorry, I introduced myself and the project at the same time!
2) I've always loved early music. My mother was a harpsichordist, and my dad is a recorder player. They never forced early music on me, but it certainly showed up in my musical atmosphere from well before I was even born. My dad taught me to play piano when I was young, but when it was time to use my left thumb above middle C I suffered a complete meltdown and quit. I got over that for the most part, but remain somewhat wary around the large heavy beasts. Anything that could kill you by breaking a string deserves some skepticism, I think. My journey to actual early musicianship started with my general dissatisfaction with playing modern cello. I loved making music, and I loved a lot of the music, but frankly I was never very good at vibrato. I learned that instruments without endpins weren't so tricky after all from the fabulous Zoe Weiss while at Oberlin, and through that class came to the attention of Catherina Meints. Though I knew her through my parents, I'd never really worked with her. I'm vaguely aware that I played in a masterclass with her at some point growing up. I think it was a couple of Bach minuets, but I don't remember anything else about the experience. After I started gamba, I forced my way into joint lessons with another person she was recruiting. It was all downhill from there, and here I am working on a thesis on Handel and the cello. I never stopped playing tenor gamba, but I finally bothered to start actually playing bass this past summer via the Baroque Performance Institute at Oberlin. I'm totally stuck in early music now, since playing at 440 sets my teeth a little on edge, constant vibrato makes me scowl, and endpins just feel wiggly.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Dispatches from 808
Submission by Janey
Musicological Oh Snap! du jour:
Regarding a cantata spuriously attributed to Handel
The bass line, which sketches out the most obvious harmonies, is composed almost entirely of repeated half notes, and the outer accompanying parts rely to an unbelievable degree on chains of sequences...All in all, it would seem most charitable not to seek further for the composer.
John Mayo, "Handel's Italian Cantatas" (PhD Diss, 1977)
Musicological Oh Snap! du jour:
Regarding a cantata spuriously attributed to Handel
The bass line, which sketches out the most obvious harmonies, is composed almost entirely of repeated half notes, and the outer accompanying parts rely to an unbelievable degree on chains of sequences...All in all, it would seem most charitable not to seek further for the composer.
John Mayo, "Handel's Italian Cantatas" (PhD Diss, 1977)
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Dispatches from 808
Submission by Janey
Musicological Oh Snap! du Jour:
Regarding Francesco Maria de' Medici
His marriage was grotesquely unfruitful and therefore absolutely appropriate to the catastrophic atmosphere in which it took place.
Musicological Oh Snap! du Jour:
Regarding Francesco Maria de' Medici
His marriage was grotesquely unfruitful and therefore absolutely appropriate to the catastrophic atmosphere in which it took place.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Dispatches from 808
Submission by Janey
Snooty Academic Item du Jour:
The plural of terminus ante quem is termini ante quos. That is all.
Snooty Academic Item du Jour:
The plural of terminus ante quem is termini ante quos. That is all.
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?
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