http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aJTzRwtdUDY
DIE SCHÖNE MÜLLERIN, D. 795 (1823)
trans. Philipp O. Naegele
18. DRY FLOWERS
You little flowers all,
That she gave me,
You should be laid
With me into my grave.
How you all look
At me in pain,
As if you knew
How I would fare?
You little flowers all,
How wilted, how pale?
You little flowers all,
Whereof so moist?
Ah, tears do not make
The green of May,
Nor dead love
Bloom again.
And spring will come,
And winter will pass,
And little flowers will
Arise in the grass.
And little flowers will lie
In my grave,
The little flowers all,
That she gave me.
And when she walks
Past the hillock on by
And thinks in her heart:
He meant it true!
Then, little flowers all,
Come out, come out!
May is come,
Winter is done.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Saturday, January 29, 2011
World of Music
http://blog.ted.com/2008/04/15/machover_ellsey/
I was watching this video and thinking about how cool/different the world would be if every educated person learned how to make music, the same way we learn to read, solve basic math, and speak a language. What if we could all make music as easily and naturally as we talk? How much more would we be able to find out about one another's personalities?
When you reach a certain level of music-making, you reach a level of ability to express. The more skilled you are at your art, the more capable you are to show yourself and say what you mean, to have that unique sound that characterizes you (and vice versa). That's why musicians at the beginning level (a horde of little kids playing Suzuki, middle school orchestra students etc.) generally all sound quite similar to an unbiased ear, while musicians at the highest level (Kreisler, Wunderlich, DuPre) are much more distinguishable. But, you don't have to be Heifetz or Casals to reveal a little bit of yourself through music-making. It's reasonable that the more you master your technique and gain control over your body/instrument, the more you're able to make creative decisions through the music, but if you have a strong enough personality, it should and will shine through, whether you've been playing an instrument for three days or three decades.
All this seems like a given--we know it already. But I never saw a better example of this fact (that music unmasks aspects of a particular human's psyche that cannot be expressed through any other means) than in the above video. The man at the end suffers from brain damage, and it is clear that his capability to express himself is extremely limited. However, through the music he made, the audience (and I) could begin to discern really intimate details about him. The happy bursts of energy, the fluctuation in texture and dynamic, the pitches and rhythms...I can't describe in words exactly what I know about him now, but I can certainly say that I am closer to him after hearing his music.
Of course it also works the same way, in reverse--the more trained of an ear you have, the more you will be able to discern someone's inner workings through their music.
So my daydream is, what would happen if everyone in the world could effectively/constantly express themselves through music? If we all went about our everyday lives singing or playing the flute or strumming a guitar or something, as frequently as we communicate through speech and actions? How much more would we know about one another? Wouldn't it make it that much easier to find your friends, soul mates, and those with whom you would NOT get along? Imagine walking into a classroom full of strangers on your first day at a new school. Everywhere are unfamiliar faces, and you want to figure out who's who. In our current world, we observe people's facial expressions, the way they present themselves, their clothes/accessories, how they interact with others. But in this fictional music world of mine, everyone would be making some sort of music whenever they had something to say. So instead of observing their appearances, you would listen to their songs. One kid is making the smoothest, silkiest sound on his clarinet--he knows how to charm the ladies. A girl in front row is playing her viola louder than everyone else--she has a big ego, let's avoid her. The small skinny boy at the back taps a pair of hand drums with his eyes closed, devising creative rhythms--he's intelligent but laid back. Guy in the corner playing Dvorak cello concerto second theme with the longest lines and seamless vibrato--instant crush.
Because it's easier (not easy, but easier) to fake who you are through the clothes you wear, the mannerisms you adopt, the timbre of your voice, the way you do your hair. But it's difficult, if not nearly impossible, to fake who you are through music. Music is, in some ways, the clearest, most shamelessly honest mirror one can hold up to his self.
I was watching this video and thinking about how cool/different the world would be if every educated person learned how to make music, the same way we learn to read, solve basic math, and speak a language. What if we could all make music as easily and naturally as we talk? How much more would we be able to find out about one another's personalities?
When you reach a certain level of music-making, you reach a level of ability to express. The more skilled you are at your art, the more capable you are to show yourself and say what you mean, to have that unique sound that characterizes you (and vice versa). That's why musicians at the beginning level (a horde of little kids playing Suzuki, middle school orchestra students etc.) generally all sound quite similar to an unbiased ear, while musicians at the highest level (Kreisler, Wunderlich, DuPre) are much more distinguishable. But, you don't have to be Heifetz or Casals to reveal a little bit of yourself through music-making. It's reasonable that the more you master your technique and gain control over your body/instrument, the more you're able to make creative decisions through the music, but if you have a strong enough personality, it should and will shine through, whether you've been playing an instrument for three days or three decades.
All this seems like a given--we know it already. But I never saw a better example of this fact (that music unmasks aspects of a particular human's psyche that cannot be expressed through any other means) than in the above video. The man at the end suffers from brain damage, and it is clear that his capability to express himself is extremely limited. However, through the music he made, the audience (and I) could begin to discern really intimate details about him. The happy bursts of energy, the fluctuation in texture and dynamic, the pitches and rhythms...I can't describe in words exactly what I know about him now, but I can certainly say that I am closer to him after hearing his music.
Of course it also works the same way, in reverse--the more trained of an ear you have, the more you will be able to discern someone's inner workings through their music.
So my daydream is, what would happen if everyone in the world could effectively/constantly express themselves through music? If we all went about our everyday lives singing or playing the flute or strumming a guitar or something, as frequently as we communicate through speech and actions? How much more would we know about one another? Wouldn't it make it that much easier to find your friends, soul mates, and those with whom you would NOT get along? Imagine walking into a classroom full of strangers on your first day at a new school. Everywhere are unfamiliar faces, and you want to figure out who's who. In our current world, we observe people's facial expressions, the way they present themselves, their clothes/accessories, how they interact with others. But in this fictional music world of mine, everyone would be making some sort of music whenever they had something to say. So instead of observing their appearances, you would listen to their songs. One kid is making the smoothest, silkiest sound on his clarinet--he knows how to charm the ladies. A girl in front row is playing her viola louder than everyone else--she has a big ego, let's avoid her. The small skinny boy at the back taps a pair of hand drums with his eyes closed, devising creative rhythms--he's intelligent but laid back. Guy in the corner playing Dvorak cello concerto second theme with the longest lines and seamless vibrato--instant crush.
Because it's easier (not easy, but easier) to fake who you are through the clothes you wear, the mannerisms you adopt, the timbre of your voice, the way you do your hair. But it's difficult, if not nearly impossible, to fake who you are through music. Music is, in some ways, the clearest, most shamelessly honest mirror one can hold up to his self.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Listening
Thanks to various circumstances in the course of my life, I have mastered the ability to block out all noises around me in the physical world and get completely and irrevocably lost in my own head. Once, in my sophomore history class, I actually fell asleep and had an engaging dream about the first movement of Dvorak's American quartet (second theme)...and I "woke up" to find that my eyes were open the whole time. After this discovery, I spent many an hour in Econ class perfecting my newfound skill...it takes time and practice, but if I so wish, I now can close my mind to my surroundings and transport myself to Jenniferland. I used to think this was really fun and useful--and it is, because let's say you're in a mind-numbingly useless lecture...well, if you can block it out, you can then proceed to think about and deal with more pressing/interesting issues in your head. But, it's getting to the point where "Brain to Jenniferland" is my default mode when I enter class. Without realizing it, I'll sit down, get out my books/pen etc. and BAM 45 minutes later I jerk to my senses, discussion topics (none of which I can recall or understand) whizzing around my ears, impossible for me to grasp.
Come to think of it, this may be a reason memorization is usually my biggest worry in music. I get lost in a distracting whirl of thoughts, music-related or not, and muscle memory can only take me so far.
On the one hand, it's my own restless brain--too lazy to concentrate on things that don't interest me--causing me to gradually shorten my attention span. BUT on the other hand, while cleaning out my room on the last day of break, I re-unearthed an evaluation report from Challenger preschool days. Going through my preschool binder always makes me laugh really hard. There are the hilarious self-portraits (all of which display me in purple clothes) and even more hilarious short stories (most of which feature as protagonist a bunny, creatively named Bunny). And then the evaluations, which are quite revealing. For all the math and verbal stuff, like Arithmetic, Sentence Construction, Reading Skills etc. there are a string of 99th percentiles, and at first I was quite proud, like "Hey, not bad, little Jennifer was actually a pretty smart kid!" But then I keep looking down, and there, next to Listening, is a very sad-looking 53. (Social Interaction was not much higher.)
So...maybe I was this way all along.
Come to think of it, this may be a reason memorization is usually my biggest worry in music. I get lost in a distracting whirl of thoughts, music-related or not, and muscle memory can only take me so far.
On the one hand, it's my own restless brain--too lazy to concentrate on things that don't interest me--causing me to gradually shorten my attention span. BUT on the other hand, while cleaning out my room on the last day of break, I re-unearthed an evaluation report from Challenger preschool days. Going through my preschool binder always makes me laugh really hard. There are the hilarious self-portraits (all of which display me in purple clothes) and even more hilarious short stories (most of which feature as protagonist a bunny, creatively named Bunny). And then the evaluations, which are quite revealing. For all the math and verbal stuff, like Arithmetic, Sentence Construction, Reading Skills etc. there are a string of 99th percentiles, and at first I was quite proud, like "Hey, not bad, little Jennifer was actually a pretty smart kid!" But then I keep looking down, and there, next to Listening, is a very sad-looking 53. (Social Interaction was not much higher.)
So...maybe I was this way all along.
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