Nietzsche and Shakespeare

On the plane ride home, I finally drudged my way to the end of Nietzsche's manifesto, Thus Spake Zarathustra. What a drag. For those who are interested in exploring Nietzsche, do NOT choose this book for your first foray. Much of what he said is entirely against my most core beliefs, but on a more basic level, I simply could not understand what he was going on about a lot of the time. I don't think I've ever read a book that irritated me more, except Voltaire's Candide. (Weird how both these books I read for musical purposes...Bernstein and Strauss.) I couldn't even bring myself to finish it, I was so annoyed...promptly gave it to a friend who's far more cynical and tolerant of endless sarcasm. She enjoyed it very much.
All this being said, there were a few passages in the Nietzsche that I enjoyed enough to dog-ear and share, so here they are:

It is true we love life; not because we are wont to live, but because we are wont to love.
There is always some madness in love. But there is always, also, some method in madness.


Marriage: so call I the will of the twain to create the one that is more than those who created it.


His soul become impatient and full of longing for those whom he loved: because he had still much to give them. For this is the hardest of all: to close the open hand out of love, and keep modest as a giver.


Will--so is the emancipator and joy-bringer called: thus have I taught you, my friends! But now learn this likewise: the Will itself is still a prisoner. Willing emancipateth: but what is that called which still putteth the emancipator in chains?...that it cannot break time and time's desire--that is the Will's lonesomest tribulation.


Free will and its limits...which brings me to Shakespeare, and my favorite moment in Macbeth:


(as he's facing his imminent and inevitable death, realizing that he has no control over his destiny)
I will not yield, to kiss the ground before young Malcolm's feet...though opposed, Yet I will try the last. Before my body I throw my war lie shield. Lay on, Macduff, and damn'd be him that first cries, "Hold, enough!" -Macbeth

One of the incredible feats Shakespeare accomplishes is creating characters that captivate their audience, pulling readers along as if by hypnosis, despite how despicable the character may be. We know Macbeth is no saint...he kills people, tricks people, is unmoved by his wife's death...nevertheless, in his last moments as he picks up his sword and vows not to yield even in the face of his destiny (which he finally acknowledges), there's this strange triumph that stirs in my gut and enthusiastic internal cheering (GO MACBETH!).  It's as if Shakespeare is telling us, yes, free will may only exist within the confines of fate, like a tiny inaccessible window in the prison of a pre-written destiny...but these futile fighters of fate are nobler than those who submit.
(Whether I agree with this is a whole different matter.)

Arts and Crafts 3

What finals? 'Tis the season for making holiday cards! :)

 

 

And from a while ago:

A Tumblr Post

...meaning, posting a picture/video/link, writing a few words underneath ("lol," "exactly," and/or "<3"), and calling it a blog entry. I could potentially go on for a couple paragraphs on any of these (unrelated) things, but there's too much to share, and no time or need to elaborate, for the most part.

1) First of all, my favorite:

HAHAHA!!! Not making a statement on my political views, but just saying as an unbiased observer, this is absolutely hilarious. Seriously, every time I watch it, I just laugh even harder.

2) 
Gave me a good laugh when I saw it this morning. Based on http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-scotland-edinburgh-east-fife-16023328.

3) Award-winning pizza made by the cutest happiest old man. :)

Imagine being the best at something so simple, yet so appreciated--making pizza--for 50 years. He doesn't even use oven mitts, he just takes the pizza out of the oven with his bare hands...haha! More at http://www.domdemarcos.com/story.html. DiFara's pizza...when you eat it, you won't be able to stop smiling.

4) Love, love me doe:  http://news.nationalpost.com/2011/12/06/chinese-zoo-at-a-loss-what-to-do-when-a-deer-and-a-ram-fall-in-love/ :)

5) Cool beyond words:

*** One more:

V showed me this at her house recently...I have NO idea why, but we watched it over and over, gasping for breath amid hysterical laughter. I share it in the hopes that the two of us weren't totally crazy, and other saner people find it funny too.

Heebie-Jeebies

Just my nerdy thought of the day, which is that classical music, not often associated with horror or the shivers, can be downright terrifying sometimes. Top 3 scariest pieces I've encountered thus far are:
1) Bartok's Miraculous Mandarin--not the orchestral suite, which I think is a kind of lame abridged version (sorry, Bartok!) since it ends halfway before the story is through and leaves out some of the best/scariest parts, but the entire work. Even if you don't know that the piece is about a prostitute who lures three men, the last of which stares at her with green glowing eyes and is unable to be killed (despite being stabbed and beaten and hung from a chandelier) until she has sex with him, it's enough to scare the pants off any listener with proper senses. Especially the end, when his wounds begin to bleed and he finally dies...holy crap.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zyvFDdYM-rU (27:00-end is the worst.)
2) Schoenberg's Pierrot Lunaire. The first time I heard this piece, I had to leave the concert hall, it was that upsetting...and that was before I read the poems it's based on.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=veUJxETj7-c
3) Berg's Wozzeck. The WORST! Induces fright that would make The Exorcist proud...I refuse to listen to the last scene of this opera alone. Wozzeck has killed his wife with a knife...a bunch of little children including his son find out and run off to see the body...the son is oblivious.
No link, because I'm too scared to find a video of it online and listen to make sure it's a good version. Search for it on your own, if you dare...seriously...it gives me the heebie-jeebies.

Idea 2

Walking along Newbury Street with V, and she says, "I always get caught up in the moment and forget to take pictures. What I need is a video camera strapped on the top of my head at all times."

Haha!! Ingenious!

Post-Recital Joys

***Sunday morning, I was having the breakfast buffet at my family's hotel restaurant...sitting in front of my large plate piled with food, spearing scrambled eggs and sausage onto my fork, when my sister and I had the following profound conversation:
"Jennifer, do you remember our old breakfasts at home, when we were younger, and we'd have scrambled eggs and sausage, or hash browns and sunny side up?"
"Yeah, that was so good! I loved combining the hash browns and sunny side up, that was my favorite!"
"Well, I was just watching you eat your scrambled eggs and sausage, and it reminded me of that. But you know when you combine them, which one do you put on your fork first, the eggs or the sausage?"
"Ohhh, usually I put the egg on first, because it's softer."
"Yeah, if you put the sausage first and then try to get the egg with it, the eggs just fall apart, right?"
"Exactly!"
"But just now I saw you put the sausage on first."
"Well, I was cutting the sausage, and then I accidentally forked it first instead of the eggs, but the eggs still stayed intact!"
"Yeah, I think it's because the eggs here are more solid and sort of glued together."
"Yeahhh, that's the case with most hotel breakfast scrambled eggs, I've realized! They're kind of harder and don't have much flavor and are even kind of plastic-y."
We went on like this for a while. By the time we looked up from our engrossing discussion, both our parents had left the table. :(



Post-Recital Joys:
1) midnight dinner at Legal Seafood
2) bouquets of flowers, tons of color filling my tiny apartment
3) finally listening to Mylo Xyloto
4) catching up with my good old Mei, and morphing comfortably and joyfully back into my true bossy self. :)

Mistakes

One reason I keep journal entries--sometimes it takes a lifetime of learning the same lesson over and over and freaking over again for anything to sink in. Amid a mini-panic attack today while practicing, when I started messing up a lot for no reason and was on the verge of bursting into tears like a baby, a memory came drifting into my head, like a dandelion petal floating lazily just out of fingertip's reach. I jumped to my computer, opened it up to a few years ago, and found this entry, scribbled (well, typed, but in a "scribbling" manner) in a state of post-concert euphoria:


Everything about him glows...he can find joy and wonder in every little phrase, and he can communicate it through his playing like no one else I've seen. He commits to everything, and even when he messes up, his rigor and enthusiasm and life to every note NEVER dies. I remember before our concert, he asked me if I was nervous and I said no, and he said he was nervous, he always gets really nervous for stuff, but he said it helps him play better--he listens really well and does more creative stuff. Then he said, "It also makes me mess up a lot, and Jennifer I know you are not a fan of messing up, but mistakes are part of life, and in the end, who cares." I actually thought about that throughout the concert, and I think hes the one that really set this attitude, this philosophy of, "mistakes happen, so do everything with all you've got, and as long as you've done that, it doesn't matter if you screw up," that made our group successful. Because it's not like you screw up because you're not paying attention or not committing enough. It's that you've committed so much that when a little mistake slips through, as mistakes always do, it simply is nothing compared to how much enthusiasm and love you've conjured for the music. It seems cliche, but his belief really hit home for me that night.

Halloween

If all the college/teenage girls out there put as much determination and dedication into their studies as they did into wearing as strategically little clothing as possible on Halloween, I truly think the world would be a better place. It's been raining all day and started snowing a few hours ago...and they're STILL out there, flouncing and tottering around in their abhorrent miniskirts and fishnet stockings and high heels. Look, I don't think guys will find you attractive when they discover you have frostbite. Furthermore, do you really want the kind of guys who are drawn to you because of what you are (not) wearing?
Sheesh...sometimes, I'm ashamed to be a girl.

Bhutan

http://www.news.com.au/world/bhutans-royal-wedding-how-the-king-proposed-when-she-was-just-seven-years-old/story-e6frfkyi-1226165294876

http://abcnews.go.com/International/bhutan-royal-wedding-commoner-queen/story?id=14727724

Bhutan...a new addition to my list of top 5 ideal vacation spots. Wow.

Cosby Show

Someday, if I get married and start a family, I'm going to have them watch this show...at least the first couple seasons. This is the sweetest, funniest group of people, exactly how I dream for my future husband and kids to be like, and exactly the kind of family I want...somehow, five kids seems like the perfect number when I watch this show. (I am too easily influenced.)
Anyway, it's all on Youtube. Highly, highly recommended.

Sound

For perhaps the first time in my life, I am happy with the way I sound when I play the violin. Some of the time, that is. It's taken me eighteen years to get to this point, so you can imagine how valuable this sense of satisfaction is for me, and how scared I am that it will go away.
I guess loving your sound is like looking in the mirror and loving the way you look, except ten times better, because the way you look is just...well, how you look. You can analyze your appearance and micromanage it as much as you want, but when all is said and done, it can only reveal so much of yourself. Looks have limits, and personally, I don't find the visual aspects of a person to be very interesting. They can deceive, they can hide and be hidden, they can be faked and manipulated and changed altogether. But the kind of sound you produce (if you're a musician)...if reflects not only your physical capabilities and skills on the instrument, but also your personality, your values, and--at the risk of sounding cheesy--your soul. You can't fake sound; it's probably the most honest, intimate expression of yourself that you can share. Hating your sound is like looking in the mirror and hating the way you look, except much much worse. I can say, with some personal experience, that it's a very depressing, insecure feeling.
I'd listen to Francescatti and feel as if I was basking in golden sunlight. I'd listen to Szigeti and imagine myself as a melancholy aged man whose heart was broken years ago. I'd listen to musicians around me at school and smile at how personable and distinguishable each one's sound was--L's pure innocence, Q's bravado and heart, K's openness, B's deep wisdom. Then, I'd listen to myself with dismay and think, "...this is me? There's nothing special here." I felt like I had no personality, that I was as plain and unmemorable as my sound. Then, over the summer, someone told me, "You have a gorgeous sound, but it rarely shows itself. The average listener probably won't catch it." I felt like a frog who finally got the kiss that turned her back into a princess. I told a friend about this incident, and he said, "That makes sense." I asked why, and he answered, "Well, that's sort of how I'd describe your personality."
Loving your sound means finding those special moments when it's really YOU playing, not your nerves or your instrument or even the music...YOU, and then sustaining those moments for as long as possible. If you don't love your sound, I think it means either a) you don't have the physical capability/skills to express yourself effectively, or b) you aren't finding those personal moments and holding onto them. If you are properly expressing yourself with your sound, you have to love it, because when all is said and done, it's YOU--what you believe in, what you find funny or sad or moving, what kind of heart you have--and how can you not love you?

Renoir

I went to the MFA this evening. It's funny how either you can gloss over a bunch of paintings to get a general idea, or you can spend an hour observing each one...there isn't really a middle ground, at least for me.

This is my favorite...I make a stop at this painting every time I'm there (well, I've only gone four times, but still). I don't know anything about art, but I think Renoir must have had a genuinely warm interest in people, and he captured them at their tenderest moments. I could stare at this painting forever. It's one of the most romantic, graceful images I've ever seen, from the tilt of her head, to brushing of her dress on his leg, to his unseen eyes (so obviously fixed on her), to the tip of her shoe peeking out.

BBC

I've always thought it would be a good idea to read the news. I made some valiant attempts in recent years, subscribing to magazines like The New Yorker and The Economist, bringing them proudly with me onto the airplane or train and tackling each article the way one tackles each successive item on a To-Do list. I never read more than two issues of any news magazine, and in the end, I settled with taking in current events through Yahoo news while checking email, and skimming the newspaper in my search for the daily crossword.
About a month ago, I randomly downloaded a BBC app on my iPod. Since then, I have been reading the news every morning...politics, business, health, even technology. It's interesting and fun, and I was really happy that I've finally gotten around to being a somewhat-informed citizen of the world.
Then, I realized that the only factor that had stood in my way was the convenience factor. Not interest, awareness, time...convenience. Once I found an easy, fast way to do it, everything was solved. Is this how a lot of things are nowadays? Should I feel terribly ashamed about how pathetic this is?

It's good to be home.

***
Me: Mom, I need help. New World called the other day asking me to sub in the middle of October, so I checked my school schedule and think it'll be okay, but if I go, I might have to miss 2 orchestra rehearsals, and I know our orchestra manager won't let me do that...so I'll probably have to call in sick. Then again, I might not be put in that specific orchestra. But if I say yes to New World and end up having to back out, I'll have to reimburse them for the plane ticket. So do you think I should take the chance? I really want to go to Miami...
Mom: Mm. I don't know. SO! I was thinking of making zucchini bread today.

Then I go look for my dad to ask his opinion and find him lying belly up on the couch, snoring with his mouth wide open. It is a strange, surreal day when my little sister is the voice of reason in this household.



V: I saw your car parked, and I was thinking, "Is that Jennifer?" Then I saw one of the wheels on the curb, and I went, "Yep, that's Jennifer."

Dad's friend: So your daughter goes to New England Conservatory?
Dad: Yes. Wait, no. Wait, yes.

*phone rings*
Mom: Hello?
Mei: Jennifer?
Mom: ...no, this is Jennifer's mom. Who is this?
Mei: Oh, hi Mom. This is Julianne.

Instructions on Falling in Love

If you're going to fall in love...

Try to fall in love with an artist. A girl who can stare for hours at one tree, and the way the wind rustles through its leaves, how the green twinkles and winks in the sunlight. A girl who pulls away from a kiss to scribble half-formed bursts of inspiration on the back of her hand, so as not to forget. A girl who listens to Mahler 2 alone in her room with her eyes closed, because it makes her feel bigger than life...who laughs while watching opera, cries while watching the sunrise, and has a continuous soundtrack of songs playing in her head.

Try to fall in love with a pragmatist. A girl with common sense and a good head on her shoulders. A girl who collects coupons, reads the news, and knows when to say no. A girl whose advice you seek and value, because she understands how to stay unbiased, walk in someone else's shoes, and glimpse the bigger picture. A girl who knows the value of money, education, family, and good health.

Try to fall in love with a nerd. A girl who has practically memorized Paradise Lost and reads poetry in her spare time, underlining favorite metaphors in pencil and dog-earing pages to share with family and friends and passersby...anyone willing to listen, basically. A girl who brings her chess board to camp, watches Ted Talks,  finishes a New York Times crossword without so much as a furrowed brow, and bookmarks the Kenken website...who can always figure out how much each person owes at group dinners, plus tax, plus tip.

Try to fall in love with someone who really lives. A girl who will go skydiving, Rocky-Mountain climbing, 2.7 seconds on a bull named Fu Man Chu. A girl who has traveled five continents and whose dream is to see the Northern lights. A girl who lets out a huge burst of laughter in the middle of a silent room...who isn't afraid to sing in public, knows how to dance salsa and tango and bhangra, and loves to move her body.

Try to fall in love with someone who does the right thing. A girl who spends forty minutes waiting at the ATM machine, hoping the guy who forgot his debit card in the card slot will come back to claim it. A girl who drives the speed limit, stops at every stop sign, eats her daily fruits and veggies, and doesn't know the difference between marijuana and cocaine. A girl who says, "Sorry, I can't," because it's getting late, almost time to call Grandpa, and she really should study the next morning. A girl who bakes cookies and gives them to her bus drivers, mailman, and gardener; after all, they deserve it, and it may make their day.


If you're going to fall in love...

Fall in love with someone who loves you, someone who moves you. Fall in love with a girl who drives to your house because you were talking on the phone with her while at the wheel, and then the reception died, and then your phone ran out of battery, but she didn't know and thought there was the tiniest of chances that you might have gotten in a car crash. A girl who surprises you with your favorite homemade sandwich on random mornings, and who makes a list of funny things from her day that she wants to share with you...who tells you to take care and be good, who texts you at 1am to remind you, do you have a designated driver to take you home from the bar? Fall in love with a girl who has a dream...she pursues that dream and chases it through thickets and thorns and dark tunnels and seemingly impossible mazes...and watching her makes you jump up and start chasing your own dream. A girl who brings tears to your eyes when you see tears in her eyes. A girl whose smile makes you smile.
A girl who does to you what spring does to cherry blossoms.

If you're going to fall in love...
fall in love with someone you deserve, and someone who deserves you.

From The Kitchen 2

More videos and photos from our glorious kitchen. Don't get too hungry! :)

Chicken pot pie with our own cheddar biscuit topping and egg wash.

Monte Cristo sandwiches, made without a recipe, because we've so surpassed the need for recipes.

Mmmmmm...quiche.

Baked mushrooms stuffed with cheese, bread crumbs, spices etc.

Homemade potato wedges, regular and sweet!

Quiche before it went in the oven. So beautiful...

Politics 2

"One of a conductor's most important jobs is to figure out how much his orchestra needs him or doesn't need him." -David Robertson at today's rehearsal

There is so much truth in that statement. I thought about it all day.

:) 3

This being the first summer that both my sister and I are away for an extended period of time, I think my parents are feeling unexpectedly lonely with only each other for company. Of course they'll never admit it, but the fact is that they definitely call me more often these days, and they have a lot more to tell me when we talk. Usually they don't even call me unless I call them first. From today's phone conversation with my dad:

"Jennifer! I was going to tell you something interesting that happened."
"What?"
"On Thursday, I and Mom went to see a movie at 1:00pm, and then when it was over, we just walked out of the theater and saw that another movie was starting. So then, we went in to see that movie, and we didn't have to buy another ticket! So we saw 2 movies, all for only $7! Pretty good, huh?"
"Oh, so you went movie-hopping?"
"What?"
"Never mind. Well, good for you!"
"Yes, it was quite exciting, and then afterwards we went to eat at a Korean restaurant."
"Mm. So what movies did you see?"
"...I don't know!"

Ha.

Meanwhile, this afternoon I took the bus home and when we arrived at the bus station, I trotted off merrily, forgetting my purse on my seat. I was striding along the streets, listening to my iPod and in my own little world. Only 2-3 blocks later did I realize that the bus driver had parked his vehicle and been running after me all that time to return my purse. Such a nice guy. I'm thinking of getting him a pastry or something from the bakery next time I see him. :)

Think Denk

Currently sitting at the kitchen table, waiting for my roommate to finish practicing so that I can practice, looking gloomily out the window at a raincloud-infested sky, and revisiting pianist Jeremy Denk's ingenious blog. Here are some of my favorite parts:

It is one good definition of music’s purpose: this idealized notion of emotion, music as preserver or sustainer of emotion, as timeless place where a feeling lasts seemingly forever. Music is so excellent at creating states and spells, places where things can sing themselves out to the last drop. The Romantic era is how we WISH emotions were: endlessly prolongable, leading to satisfying climaxes, etc. etc. But the Classical era is (perhaps) how emotions maybe actually are: subject to inconsistency, wavering, shifting, vanishing, elusive. There is a line between this desire for endlessness and this humorlessness.

The din [of the party] was...surface noise, insecurity, the continuous scratchy distraction, the sip of chardonnay, the fake smile, that made it impossible to be back in the lamplit room with piano in fantasyland … door closed, cup of coffee on shelf nearby, just you and the voiceleading, you and two stubbornly meaningful notes which don’t want to give up their meaning to just any old way of playing them.

Often the food at these things is so beautiful, I think of all the loving effort put into it, I feel sorry for it just sitting there. This transitions seamlessly into wondering how delicious it might be. In short, a combination of pity and gluttony makes me eat.

So totally and completely relatable. :)

Corniness is often a joy that has sat out too long, like a congealed skin on top of a soup. Congealed is the word: whatever elements keep the emotion fresh and moving are missing. Joy goes stale so quickly.

I would give you an audio example from our recent performance but an audience member with an excellent ear for the most profoundly fragile musical moments decided to cough through most of this section.

Hahahaha...

And then he [Brahms] folds everything in an embrace. He heads out to the edges of the keyboard, hugging all possible other pitches between widespread hands. For a moment the embrace is major-ish, (D-F#-A-C#), but only for those couple bars, paradise bars that can’t last, then F-sharp becomes F-natural, world of difference, and the beneficent embrace becomes tinged with sadness, like a wave of sadness, and then, the sadness having broken the embrace, we come slowly down the scale, A, G#, F#, E, D, C#, down the sixth (quintessential waltz-interval, summing everything up while bidding it farewell), each note to be played as the one you never want to leave behind. You can’t do better to express in musical notes how a person reluctantly leaves a hug, having not quite accepted departure and distance.

Just to depress myself further, I looked on a classical music forum, with the topic: what’s funny in classical music? And you get a ream of special examples (Haydn this, Malcolm Arnold that, moments here and there) and then eventually hilariously it gets lost in a very unfunny discussion of Nazism in Wagner. Sigh. No no NO, I want to say, stop it, humor is no special example, it’s not a side stream, it’s not vacuum cleaners and celebrity guests and props, it’s the beating heart, it’s one of the main currents, one of the most wonderful. These composers, through flashes of genius, tremendous insight in timing, nuance, all the tricks of comedians, acrobats, thinkers, clowns, poets … they taught us how to laugh in tones: the only challenge is not to forget their living lesson.

From The Kitchen

When we have a free night, S and I pick a recipe, write out a list, and make a trip to the grocery store. Then we come back, turn up some bossa nova (Brazilian jazz is the best cooking music!), and cook our hearts out. Here's a record of what we've made in the last 4 weeks. As S says, we are magnificent. As I say, beast mode.

Homemade macaroni and cheese.

Milk and spices thickening in the pan. Smells so good and looks so beautiful. :)

Just kidding, we didn't make the birthday cheese cake. But we did buy and eat it in about 2 days.

Video Blog #3: Chipmunk

Taken while hiking on the trail outside our apartment. Apparently baby chipmunks make this sound!

Politics

I think all politicians and world leaders should have at least one experience playing in the back of an orchestra section. The reason I love orchestra so much and want to pursue it for a living--besides for the stable income, fixed location, and obviously the music--is how much it teaches us about the psyche of a community. A superb orchestra is like a model of a perfect society, and an orchestra that can't play together is like...well, what America has turned into. Sure, the inner workings of politics are more complex than the inner workings of an orchestra, but the basic principles are the same. You need a) an insightful, respectful, and inspiring leader, b) intuitive and responsible sub-leaders, c) dedicated individuals who are willing to work just as hard as the leaders above them, and d) mutual appreciation among everyone. This week, rotated to the last stand of the orchestra as we battle our way through Shosty 10, I decided that group c, the dedicated individuals, are actually the most important aspect of an orchestra, more so than the sub-leaders and even the inspiring leader. But group c is also perhaps the hardest to come by.
When you sit in the front of an orchestra, there is so much to think about...being there for the conductor, and also ALWAYS being there for your section. One mistake you make can turn into the downfall of the whole orchestra. It's easy to forget about the people in the back, and it's easy to blame them when things go wrong, because you're so aware of your own investment and hard work. "Ugh, someone in the back keeps playing in the rest!" or "People behind me need to stop rushing," are common thoughts running through a concertmaster or principal's head. Sometimes it's true, the ones in the back are not as hard-working or technically competent. What impresses me most in an orchestra is when the players in the back are just as good/committed as the players in the front. And I do know that it's harder to sit in the back than the front...for a myriad of reasons, which I think are self-evident enough to not mention.
Today in rehearsal, our principal was making bow changes, and usually she passes the information to the stand behind her, and the message travels like a game of Telephone, to the back of the section. However, there's a point (at maybe fifth or sixth stand) where the message just doesn't get passed back anymore, and the rest of us have no idea what's going on. My stand partner was getting really annoyed at this, because it's unfair, and later we'll get blamed for not being uniform with the rest of the section.
This reminded me of a random incident that happened a few days ago. I was waiting for the bus, this trumpet-player introduced himself to me, and we started talking. He was really friendly, and when the bus came, we boarded and continued talking. At one point, a girl who was also on the bus requested to be let off at a street corner, and the bus driver told her no, she couldn't get off there, because he was in the left lane, and he couldn't just pull over to the opposite side of the street. Maybe he said it a bit harshly, I don't know, I wasn't paying much attention. But the trumpet-player found it very rude, and he immediately told the bus driver off for being out of line. By this point, everyone else in the bus had left, except me, the guy, and the bus driver. It was uncomfortable, to say the least, as the two guys embarked on a heated, long-winded argument. I won't go into details, but it got kind of nasty, with the bus driver saying some demeaning things, and the guy next to me defending himself hotly. Finally, we got off the bus, and that was that.
It made me think...about confrontation, and whether I'd be able to stand up for someone else (or myself) in a similar situation. Probably not. But I also found myself feeling bad for the bus driver. And then today in orchestra rehearsal, I started relating this occurrence to my thoughts on sitting in the back. I mean, bus drivers aren't on the very bottom of the totem pole when it comes to occupational hierarchy, but they're not high up either. I think these types of people (group c, in a way) can be very sensitive when they feel looked down upon. When I sit in the front of the orchestra, I know I have some authority, so I'm usually not defensive or insecure...I just feel lucky and try my best. When I'm in the back, it's easier to get offended and feel ignored, by something as simple as when the stand above doesn't bother to pass a message back. Similarly, it was probably easy for the bus driver to get riled up by what appeared to be scolding from a student ten years younger than him.
It makes sense that the most respected/effective conductors are the ones who have sat in the back of their orchestra at one point or another, and the best leaders are the ones who know what it's like to be at the bottom. (Dudamel!) That's why I really think the world would be a significantly better place if politicians played in orchestra. It's all related.

True Story

A couple days ago, I went to an orchestra concert here at Aspen. Program order was Debussy, Bartok, intermission, some modern piece, and then Ravel. We stayed until intermission and then left to catch a bus back home, because we were sleepy. It was quite a long wait for the next bus...by the time it finally arrived, the concert had definitely begun again and was probably halfway through Ravel. We boarded the bus along with other students, audience members etc. A guy in concert clothes (white tux, black pants) also got on, and a girl sitting near us told him, "Hey, great job on the concert!" He replied, "Thanks!" Then, she went, "So, you're done for the night? Aren't you in Ravel?" He froze with a bewildered look on his face, went, "OH!" and then dashed off the bus.
...Seriously?? I was too stunned to laugh.

Video Blog #2: French Toast

Today's video shows a glimpse of our kitchen, my two lovely roommates, and our developing cooking skills.

Breakfast for dinner! Yum yum yum. :)

Video Blog #1: Hail

Yesterday night, I was planning to upload photos I've taken thus far onto my computer, but I was too lazy. This morning, I lost my camera (along with my ID and apartment key) in the bathroom at school...so now I guess I'll have to resort to taking videos instead of photos for visual documentation of my time at Aspen. Well, that might be more fun anyway. Here's the first of what will hopefully become a consistent series of video blogs:

HAIL!!! The California girl inside of me was shocked and a little alarmed, but nobody else seemed fazed. I guess this is normal Colorado weather?

One on One

My old boyfriend told me once, "You're definitely a one-on-one girl, Jennifer." I think he was just making a simple observation, but one could easily take it as a compliment or criticism. There are people who just aren't good with big groups...in the midst of a crowd, they become seemingly quiet, mellow, and even boring/dull. If you are trustworthy and get them to yourself, they open up and show their true colors. I've always been aware of this type of people because, well, I'm pretty sure I'm one of them. What I haven't been aware of until recently is those on the other end of the social spectrum. We all know those people who shine in crowds, who are the life of the party, whose charisma and wit and creativity seem to grow with each additional person's attention. I admire this quality, because I could never in a million years embody it. But now I realize that sometimes, if you take these type of people out of the crowd and into a one-on-one situation, their personality either diminishes or changes altogether. I wonder if they are insecure about this the way I am insecure about being with tons of people.
I also wonder, about some people in particular, whether they are more true to themselves when they're with their big group of friends, or when they're with me.
Of course, there are those rare individuals who are the whole package; they shine whether they're with their best friend or a roomful of new acquaintances. Their good heart and friendliness and considerateness remains, regardless of the circumstance. But people like that come only once in a blue moon.

Expectations

I remember reading a physics article a long time ago about reverse causality and an experiment some scientists were conducting to examine the "notion that time might flow backward, allowing the future to influence the past." It's a very complex matter, way over my head, but if I look at the theory on a personal level, it;s basically about whether or not people have free will. If reverse causality exists, then our every action is predetermined.
There are countless instances in which I've attempted to trick fate into complying with my desires and hopes. Let's say I'm taking a test and want to get an A. The test comes and goes...either I work hard and feel good, or I don't work hard and probably don't feel good. Then I spend the remaining time before the results come out determinedly telling myself, "You probably didn't get it. Don't expect anything." Partly I do this to prevent myself from possible disappointment; but in a way, I'm also trying to fool destiny into going my way, because things are never supposed to turn out the way you expect, right? Sometimes, this "worked," and sometimes it didn't. After reading the physics article, I realized that these ridiculous routes I take to try and coax fate into my favor are useless, because no matter what sort of path you make--straight, curved, or unnecessarily convoluted, in my case--you'll end up at the same destination.
We just don't know what this destination is yet, so we do the best we can to lead ourselves as close to our ideal goal as possible. I guess therein lies our free will--how to deal with the inevitable story that, in a way, has already been written for us. (Sophie's World?)
I sometimes believe expectations are my biggest weakness. I view expectations like a strategy game, and I am constantly monitoring them to keep myself from jumping to conclusions and ending up disappointed. I try to expect the worst, or expect every possible outcome, so that I'll be prepared for anything. But in the end, I'm an optimist, and my persistent high hopes end up stubbornly shoving their way back into my brain. "Maybe I'll get lucky, it's happened before," or "I deserve it, so it'll probably happen."
I had a specific, slightly silly expectation for this summer. Let's call it Destination A. It should not be a big deal, and I don't even know if I want it to happen or not. I was just pretty sure that it would, and after rationalizing with myself, I decided this assumption was justified. It was one of those times when I tell myself, "This isn't hoping...this is practically factual. Of course it will happen!"
Well, I think I was wrong. You can never make assumptions about the future and call them factual...whether it's something silly like Destination A, or something incredibly significant, like the continuance of your own life...no matter how reasonable it seems.
This is a very scatter-brained post. (You can tell by the small paragraphs.) Maybe I'll edit it into something that makes a slight bit of sense later. Just wanted to get it out.

Dad

In honor of Father's Day, here is the usual collection of journal entries, photos, and other miscellaneous stuff to illustrate my

Favorite Things About Dad:

1) His random love for Sushi Boat.
Dad was so funny--he came barging in my room to interrupt my practicing and ask what I wanted for dinner...I was like, "I don't care, anything," and he went, "So...you want take out?" "Well I don't care, whatever you want." "Oh, so you want Sushi Boat take out? Okay great!" ...ha, he loves Sushi Boat.


2) His interactions with Mei.
Mei was playing Chopin on piano (it sounded pretty atonal), and Dad was all, "Whenever Mei plays piano, all my stocks drop." HAHAHA so hilarious. And what's even funnier is that Mei isn't even insulted when we laugh at her playing...she even joins in.


HAHA oh dear. Dad just accidentally ate Mei's bag lunch that she packed for herself. Mom is hysterical with laughter.

3) His super long prayers (long mostly because he talks. So. Slowly).
Mei: Dad, you don't have to pray for me tonight, I can pray by myself.
Dad: Nooo...I want to! I have to! I must to!
Mei: *sigh*


4) How he keeps his computer on Caps Lock. First he said it's because it's bigger and easier for him to read, but eventually we found out that he just can't figure out how to turn the Caps Lock off. So every time we chat on Skype, it looks like he's super excited.
[12:28:10 AM] Shinshi Wey: GOOG NIGHT!

(He's also not the best at spelling.)

5) How he dresses up whenever he goes out, for no apparent reason. I guess he just likes wearing suits, although I can't imagine why.
This morning-
Me: Dad, why did you dress up to go to your dentist appointment?
Dad: Well, I might go look for the rice cooker for church afterwards.
Me: Well...why do you have to dress up for that?
Dad: ...I don't know!


6) How he gets confused with English words.
We were talking about musicians with mental disorders today over dinner (don't ask why), and Dad was all, "Yes, it's like that movie, what's it called? Cocoa nuts? Coconut?" It turned out he was trying to talk about One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest.

7) How he always falls asleep. Once he came stomping out of the office all disgruntled, and when we asked what was wrong, he said that he'd fallen asleep at the computer with his finger on the "d" key, and ended up typing 5 pages of "dddddddddd" during his nap. Then after he woke up, he spent 15 minutes erasing it all (I guess it didn't occur to him to just highlight it and press delete).

8) His complete lack of understanding how to take care of plants.
Mom said that Dad called her while she was in Taiwan. He was standing in the family room staring in puzzlement at Christine (the prayer plant), and apparently he was asking, "What is wrong with this plant?" and when Mom went, "Why?" he was complaining about how it was brown and withered. "Well...did you water it?" "No. Why?"


9) Since I've basically been making fun of him this whole time, here's a serious one.

It was hot, as usual, in Taiwan, and I felt the sun's rays attach themselves immediately to my hair and scalp as I stepped out of the black car. The building where Grandma's funeral would take place was crowded, and resembled a row of stores at the Gilroy outlets. Mom went to park the car while Mei and I were given black robes to put on. I was exasperated because I had spent the whole morning choosing an "appropriate" black outfit for the occasion, and it turned out that what I wore didn't even matter. The customary Taiwanese funeral robe was so large, my shoes barely peeked out from under its edges. The ceremonial room had air conditioning and enough folding chairs for maybe fifty people. At the front, there was a pulpit, an electric piano, and a white display with a framed picture of Grandma. It was a nice photo--she's laughing and she looks healthy. The atmosphere was dreary and somber, but more restless than anything. The minister talked and we prayed. At one point, family members were told to gather around the coffin and body to "say good bye," but I stood back because I knew I could never deal with seeing Grandma's actual body. I think it was more witnessing the people I love suffer than actually losing Grandma that hit me hardest. Soon, it was time for speeches from children and grandchildren of the deceased. Dad went first. Neither of my aunts spoke...maybe because they wouldn't be capable of getting through a speech during such an emotional time. Dad walked up to the pulpit. I was praying so hard for him...I don't know if I've ever prayed that hard in my entire life. I had sort of talked to him about his speech beforehand, and he kept telling me how he might not be able to get through the whole thing. But I'd heard his speech, and the most moving part is the end. It basically starts with a brief history of Grandma's past...her upbringing, religion, occupation, marraige, motherhood. Then he described her as a mother and moved on to her sickness. He said that she had the best care possible during her last few years, and that her unconditional love will always be present, despite her death. He was already red-eyed when he began, and I could tell he was really nervous. In the middle, he sort of choked up and had to pause a couple times. People around me were sniffing and crying, but strangely I didn't feel sad. All my energy was channeled into praying for him and internally chanting for him to keep going, encouraging him and cheering him on. And when he finally finished his speech, I don't think I've ever been prouder of anyone.

At that moment, I realized what a heart my father has. To be able to write a speech like that, and then deliver it, despite the overwhelming grief and despair that must have been coursing through him, is truly admirable. His speech was what sustained me through the next few days--I knew that if Dad was strong enough to bear the pain, we would all get through all right in the end. 

My Objections to Sports

1) When people make an absurd amount of money betting on certain players/teams. Yes, it is your money and you have a right to do whatever you choose with it, but it seems not only wrong but also pathetic to get your big bucks through someone else's years of hard work. These athletes put an unspeakable amount of blood, sweat, and tears to get where they are today. I know I certainly haven't worked one-tenth as hard as these guys, yet I'd still be FURIOUS if anyone made even $100 off a success of mine, simply because they thought I was a good bet. It just isn't right. It's nice to believe in your sports celebrities and cheer hard for your heroes, but to make money off of them is just stupid.
What about gambling, like in poker and at casinos? Well, that's stupid too, but it can be fun, and you're playing with CARDS and DICE, not other people's careers and passions and dedication.

2) When it generates so much negative emotion. It seems like everyone these days has something mean and scathing to say about Lebron James, and he's got his own tight-lipped retorts to shoot right back at his haters. As a spectator who enjoys watching basketball but is neither an enthusiast (at all) nor from Cleveland, my opinion on the matter is this. So he grew up playing basketball in Cleveland and became the city's pride and joy...that's great, but he still has a right to do whatever he thinks is best for his career. Valuing championships over his team/hometown may be selfish, but it's his choice to make. Furthermore, his decision to join Miami wasn't a FAILURE like the media keeps emphasizing...they got to the Finals, didn't they? It was short-sighted of James to make big talk about a guaranteed win, but that's no reason to celebrate over his loss. It's the same principle as throwing a party when Bin Laden died, or laughing gleefully when an unfriendly ex-boyfriend gets dumped. It's just taking the work of fate/karma and turning it into a personal victory, which is an immature and petty way to react, in my opinion. But now I'm getting sidetracked. In any case, there is some truth to what Lebron said...people can cheer at his "failure," but in the end, how does it really affect their own self pride and satisfaction?

On a side note, I do appreciate sports, even though I don't understand them most of the time. I appreciate how it bring communities closer together, and how it makes talented people work their hardest and shine their brightest. Every time I see a huge crowd of loyal fans' reaction as their team scores a winning point, I get teary. Remember ALL the videos of America's reaction when Landon Donovan scored that goal in the World Cup? Beautiful.

Diet

I've decided to start a new diet. It's called, don't eat unless you're hungry, and stop eating when you're full.
So far, I've lost 5 pounds. :)

I wish everything in life were this easy.

Light

This is a Christian-geared entry. I hope that doesn't deter anyone from reading on.

“Once you were ‘darkness’, but now as Christians you are ‘light’. Live then as children of the light…For light is capable of showing everything for what it really is. It is even possible for light to turn the thing it shines upon into light also.” -Ephesians 5

The Bible describes light in many contexts—as a metaphor for judgment, truth, and hope, among others. Most interesting to me is God’s calling for us not only to embrace light but to actually become light. What is the role of a light, and what does it mean to be one? Lights are illuminants, used to reveal and clarify the world around us. The paradox of an effective light is that, while it's bright and powerful, it doesn't exist to be seen. Staring directly into the sun, the world’s strongest light source, causes blindness. People rarely look at a light bulb or the flame of a candle and say, “Wow, what a beautiful light!” Instead, we view and appreciate what the light shines upon. The more I read the Bible, the more I notice the duality of many Christian ideals, and light is no exception. A good light shines brightly, not for the purpose of being noticed itself, but so that its surroundings will be noticed.

There are three main ways I thought of to apply this to daily life:

1) With people. When you care about someone, nothing brings you more joy than to give that person the most happiness you possibly can. I think we’re all generally familiar with this feeling, because God is love, and we are creatures of God and therefore creatures of love. While we work to shine beams of happiness into people’s lives, we can also illuminate these people to the world. A good teacher enlightens his pupil, but he shines a spotlight onto his student as well. He proudly displays a gifted student, not to promote himself as a successful instructor, but to promote a young talent worthy of attention. A good symphony conductor must know the music he is presenting better than anyone else on the stage and shower his fellow musicians with insight during rehearsals, but his ultimate job is to shine a spotlight on his orchestra and let them glow.

2) With music. A musician is a means by which a composer’s expressive ideas can be communicated. The ultimate purpose of music-making is to shine a light on the music, not yourself. Of course, performing personally and intimately is necessary, but I’ve found that a performance with selfless aims touches a far greater audience than a performance with selfish aims.

3) With God. As humans, we are constantly susceptible to sin—and by sin, I mean anything that separates us from God. As in all relationships, though it is natural for us to love, it is also natural for us to constantly revert back to ourselves and what is best for us. God wants us to love ourselves, but I believe He wants us to do this through our love of Him. As “children of the light,” every action that we live out during our time on earth should reflect God...not in order to attain salvation, but out of love and gratitude for Him.

(There is a common misconception that Christians obey God to avoid eternal damnation. It is true that we recognize the terrifying reality of hell. But that’s not why we have our beliefs. As Lord Tennyson writes, “The heart stood up and answered, ‘I have felt.’” When we feel divine love, this is our inspiration for faith.)

1 AM in the Wey Household

*bong bong bong* footsteps up the stairs

*shuffle shuffle* across the hallway

*creeeeak* kitchen cabinet opening

*rustle rustle rustle* rifling through miscellaneous snack bags

pause

*creeeeak* *clonk* kitchen cabinet closing

*shuffle shuffle* back across the hallway

*bong bong bong* footsteps down the stairs

pause

*munch munch munch munch munch* in my bed

As told by a disgruntled Mom in the morning.

Teeheehee. :) And although it's been several years now, in the midst of my midnight-snack escapades I can still hear, clear as day, A's low exasperated voice going, "Jennifer, you're such a fattie."

Composers

I'm not a fan of re-blogging, but this entry is too funny not to post, and too witty to attempt rephrasing. Here are my favorite parts:


Top 10 Composers Who Make You Seem Cool When You Tell Other Musicians You Like Them

You go to a friend’s concert/opera performance/chamber recital at an acclaimed school of music or summer festival.  You’re invited to the party afterwards.  There is  wine, there is cheese, there’s a respectable collection of craft brews.  There’s a strange mix of young people and old hangers-on, all of whom are way too intense and riled up because of the concert.  There’s really awkward background music.  Cathartic drinking abounds; inappropriate touching ensues.

You find yourself in a conversation with the type of people who want to talk about their favorite composers at a party.  This is already bad news.  Your instinct to retreat is a good one.

But let’s say you’re trapped next to the drink table, or you have a fighting spirit, or this is Imaginationland, and there are some hotties at an orchestra party who you want to impress.  You need a list of composers who are Academy approved, under-appreciated, but not so outré that only the lamest of the music theory geeks has ever even heard of them.

1. J. S. Bach

No musician, be they orchestralist, vocalist, Old Music-ist, New Music-ist, keyboardist or lutenist will disparage the name of J. S. Bach.

If you say Bach, you leave yourself open to a discussion of his individual pieces.  You can save yourself a lot of valuable time and listening by simply memorizing the letters BWV.  BWV stands for Bach-Werke-Verzeichnis (which you don’t have to memorize) and refers to a listing of all Bach’s works.  If pressed for an opinion on your favorite Bach piece, insert any three digit combination after the letters BWV.  Do so with absolute confidence.  Most musicians will think you’re talking about one of their own favorite pieces.  Go with it.  If not, they’ll assume you’re refering to some unknown masterwork and murmur in agreement.  In the unlikely case that they don’t immediately follow this by offering their favorite Bach piece, ask them for it right away.

They will not respond with a BWV number.  Do not press the issue.

3. György Ligeti

Show your flare for the avant-garde by working Ligeti into the conversation.  Do not attempt pronunciation of his first name unless you are fluent in Hungarian. 

7. Franz Schubert

Say “Winterreise” (pronounced “vin-ter-rise-ah”), and really say it like you mean it.  Express a heartfelt connection to it.  You may express admiration for any symphony up through number 9, excepting number 7.  If you do happen to slip up and mention the non-existent seventh, there are two recourses: 1) say that you assumed everyone had switched over to the new European numbering system for Schubert symphonies, or 2) say, “oh, I mean the ersatz seventh symphony.  But we all know that story…”

10 Composers Who You Should Never Admit Liking To A Musician Who Considers Him or Herself Serious

6. Alfred Schnittke

No one will know who he is.  The very few who do will either a) not have been instructed what to think of him, b) will call him “Shit-ke” and chuckle, or c) will be a violist and will actually think you’re really cool, something you want to avoid at all costs.

9. Johann Strauss

Jr. or Sr., or any other member of the Strauss family, for that matter, up to and including Charles Strouse, but excluding Richard Strauss, even though his name is better left unmentioned anyway.

10. Niccolò Paganini

The only people who won’t scoff will be violinists.  They’ll cringe.

[Disclaimer: I only vouch for this advice in mainland America.  An entirely different set of rules may apply in Europe, especially in Germany.  Use with caution.]