Mmmm Forbidden Harmony

This is not bad, however I would be cautious of spacing. The spacing in the upper voices is okay, however it is generally not a good idea to space your tenor and bass farther than a twelfth apart, where in these examples the bass and tenor have up to two octaves and a third between them. It would be much stronger if the bass maintained spacing consistent with common practice voice leading rules.

Pedagogy

So I’ve been thinking a lot about pedagogy lately. I’m in a class that encourages critical pedagogy, which has been a little difficult to apply to teaching music, at least in my opinion. I have been giving a lot of thought to what my role in regards to my students as a result, so I decided to share.

As a teacher I have a responsibility to impart knowledge. Music theory, history both musical and not, trivia, all of these things in my head are things I ought to share with my students. This is not to imply that I will simply be a robotic fact-spewing machine, but in order to help my students become well rounded they need to know much more than music. They need to learn to consider ALL forms of learning to be meaningful, and to always strive to educate themselves.

I am not somebody’s source of self-esteem, I am not their buddy, pal, or friend, I am their teacher. It is fine to be friendly, to encourage good behavior that leads to achievement, or to help students to succeed. It is not okay to pick the students I think are worthwhile and coddle them, give them extra responsibility and opportunities, or just favor them in general. In my classroom student leaders and staff will be chosen by their peers by blind ballot so as to remove any hint of my favoring any student. I will reward any true improvement by any student in an appropriate and private manner, to help students understand that public praise should not be their goal. Students in my classroom will learn that their own opinion of themselves is the only one they can control, and the one they should value most.

I do have other goals, but that notebook is in my car, and I am not, so they will be shared as I get the time to do so.

No more…

To be perfectly honest, this 18 credit semester has not been the beast I thought it would, at least in terms of scheduling. I reserve the right to feel differently the second multiple classes dump papers on me. I can’t decide if I was simply overreacting, or if I just got lucky and picked a very reasonable group of classes. It could be the fact that we are only a couple of weeks in, but I refuse to rain on my own parade here.

That being said, there are moments when I just want to say NO MORE… I just want to tell my ward that I can’t get a piece ready to perform every month, or just pull an arrangement out of my butt. I want to tell people that I can’t just play in everything or do everything. Granted, I’m not playing in that much, and the reality of it is that I am not truly that overwhelmed, but there are, like I said moments in which I want to say NO MORE…

Which brings me to one of the things that made me laugh this week, a rare piece of clever bathroom graffiti. On one of the stalls in the Fine Arts Center the words No More were carved at some point, more than four years ago, because they have been there at least as long as me. Recently however, a clever individual included one word, which made the carving epic (assuming you are a music major, or at least a musician) the word viola. Never have I laughed so hard at a bathroom graffiti. Thank you to whoever made my day, because I saw that carving in the midst of a moment when I wanted to say NO MORE.

I don’t even know any more…

So last night I was lying on my bed trying to get to sleep. Of course it was New Year’s Eve, so I went to bed considerably later than usual, which may have contributed to what happened next. See, I am starting the Secondary Education portion of my degree, and have some classes, music and otherwise, that I am really nervous about taking this semester. Looking back, I probably should have just bitten the bullet and taken Music History III last spring rather than putting it off for a year, that would have solved a lot of the problem right there; Oh, well, hindsight is 20/20, and complaining about classes is not what this post is about.

It started with simple reflection on the things that I needed to complete this semester, getting my recital squared away, the studying I would be required to do for all of my classes this semester, that sort of thing. Unfortunately my mind began to wander, as it often does at night, and suddenly I found myself having an utter panic attack. Without realizing it I had allowed myself to think about my fear of not finding a job in the music field when my studies are through, or my lingering doubts as to whether or not I had decided on the appropriate major for myself. I found myself foundering in a sea of doubts, and as my thoughts spun faster and faster the doubts piled higher and higher.

I found this particularly annoying since my heart rate had rocketed up to somewhere around 120 bpm, while lying on my bed. My breathing was fast, and I could feel the adrenaline working in my system. I suddenly had that feeling you get when the bottom drops out, like when you go down a very steep, very fast water slide. I could not relax, I couldn’t for the life of me find a comfortable position on my bed, so I stayed there on my back staring at the ceiling for what seemed like hours. I’m not even really sure when I fell asleep, I don’t even recall turning over to go to sleep; it’s almost like the adrenaline leaving my system caused me to crash. All I know is that I woke up feeling like I had run a marathon.

I know that it is always polite to sum up, or to give some sort of justification for rambling like this, so here goes: The thing that scared me the most is that I had to come face to face with what actually stresses me out. I couldn’t blame it on trivial things, I had to actually confront what I am afraid of in my future. It almost makes me sad, because I realized that some of my fears are things that I have not control over, and therefore have little or no power to change. I’m not sure if I can succeed in what I want to do, I’m not even certain I will make it through the next semester. I wish I knew what happened to shake my self-confidence so much, or if this is just something that happened over time, gradually eroding over the last year or so. All I know is that for some inexplicable reason I am scared. Just plain scared.

Insanity is…

I know as I’m writing this that a lot of people will think “Hey, it’s your own fault.” If that doesn’t make sense yet, it will. I am a music major, yes I made the choice to pursue that of my own free will. In my defense, nobody told me how many classes I would have to take, or warned me that most employers don’t want to work around a concert schedule. I was unaware that many of my professors would feel that there should be nothing that was a higher priority than my degree. So in truth I came into this relatively blind.

It is said that Einstein described insanity as repeatedly doing the same thing expecting a different result. If this is at all accurate, then please call the shrinks, I should be committed. Every semester I register for classes, and every time I look at my carefully constructed schedule thinking, “I did it, I finally have a schedule that won’t stress me out!” Honestly I should probably stop right there and reevaluate my mental health, because no matter how I schedule things something manages to come in and ruin it all.

Whether it’s the death of a friend or family member, my wife’s health or my own, or a particular class or professor that is harder than expected, something always goes wrong. Oh yes, it goes wrong and then I go crazy trying to make it all work. Now in some fields you can escape excessive pressure, but not mine. I am in constant competition with those in my studio, and in my classes; not because I want to be, but because professors unwittingly pit students against each other.
Most professors will tell you they don’t have favorites, which is really a silly thing to say. Everyone has favorites, that is human nature. Every professor has those students that they click with and feel they can rely on, and there is really very little the other students can do to to move into that group if they don’t have the right combination of abilities or qualities. I don’t say that to whinge about my situation, but the tension that it can cause between students is hard to escape, even if it isn’t my tension or my frustration.

I suppose my point is that it seems that everything is constantly working against me, like I’m pushing a boulder uphill; the sad part is that I think that this is my own fault. I put myself into a position to be squeezed in this vice of tension and frustration, and every time I think I’m on the verge of making it out I get squeezed by something else. It’s the same thing every time, and yet I keep coming back for more… Nuthouse here I come…

Concert Review: Cache Symphony Orchestra

I had the opportunity recently to attend a concert put on by the string section of the Cache Symphony Orchestra as a tribute to a member who passed away this year. The orchestra is composed of mainly amateur players, which made it all the more impressive to me. There were a few issues common to all amateur ensembles, mainly intonation and minor ensemble tears during difficult passages; I choose, at least for this review, not to dwell on them.

The concert opened with Elgar’s Serenade for Strings. The rich texture and lilting quality of the music showcased the rich tone quality of the orchestra. It’s nice to remember that Elgar was responsible for more than Pomp and Circumstance!

The next piece on the program was a Corelli Concerto Grosso. This was an excellent choice in my opinion, as it provided a wonderful contrast of styles. It was also very meaningful, as the member to whom the concert had been dedicated had been a soloist in that work when the group had performed it some years earlier.

The next work was my favorite of the night, Bach’s Concerto for Two Violins. Not only was it an excellent choice to showcase the improvement of this ensemble, it was especially meaningful as a tribute, the soloists were the daughter, and a close friend of the member whose life was being commemorated.

To be continued, it’s getting late…

Sigh…

I think it’s funny that I made the mistake of watching ESPNU highlights after the game I watched today. It’s kind of depressing to see teams pull off upsets, or just play well after you watched your team self-destruct…

I’m pretty sure most people would tell me it’s my own fault for rooting for USU, and I’ll admit, we have a history of losing games, and lots of them. The thing that kills me is the attitude that the USU Athletic department is trying to foster and how it contrasts what is actually going on, at least in Romney Stadium. If I could change one thing about games, it would be taking the guy with the “Believe It” flag out of the endzone. I know what they’re trying to do, but the only thing I really believe is that our football team is capable of giving up any lead at any point in any game. I think that they can play well when they show up, but I don’t believe that they will show up every game, or even every quarter. I think that they can take on teams from bigger conferences like Auburn or Texas A&M, but it is hard to believe when they can’t even take on a WAC team that is supposed to be a 6 1/2 point underdog.

But what really gets me going is the fact that I’m paying for this. I pay big fees every semester to keep this program running, and they can’t even come through and win against a weaker WAC squad? It makes me sick. I’m happy to fund Stew Morrill and the Men’s Basketball team. I don’t mind funding the Women’s Basketball team, the Track & Field, Cross Country, and Soccer, these teams all have more success than the football team, and if they don’t they’re cheaper to run; but I am tired of funding the Football team without them being accountable to those of us who are paying our fees to keep them in business.

Personally I would like to suggest that Coach Anderson consider a coaching change. Something is obviously not working, and I don’t think that it is all on the players. Players need someone who is going to help them know their positions. We gave up huge yards on a penalty on the punter  because he kicked the ball off of the ground. A coach should have been preparing him for that kind of situation. There is no excuse for a punter not to know all of the rules about how he can and cannot kick the ball, and if he did know, there’s no excuse for that kind of stupid error. The offensive play calling left something to be desired, and the fact that they decided to punt on 3rd and 1 with five minutes left in the game suggests that somebody doesn’t have a clue what’s going on.

The players don’t get off free and clear though. Good players will find a way to win despite bad coaching. Great players won’t quit, they fight for yards, they fight for points, and they get the job done. I’m tired of watching this team be on the cusp of coming together. The tools are there, now they need to come together and be the team that they would ask us to believe that they are.

The long and short of it is this: Mr. Barnes & Co., do NOT ask us to “Believe It” at football games unless you can make the coaches and players give us something to believe in. If that is to hard, then I will happily furnish you with my address and I will expect a  refund check in the mail. I paid for a winning football team, and you sent me the wrong team. There should be some sort of return policy, right?

RIP Troy Davis

The internet is abuzz tonight with people weighing in on the death of one Troy Davis. Convicted of killing a police officer, Mr. Davis was sentenced to death; many witnesses have since recanted, even some of the jurors have publicly changed their view about his guilt. It is a truly tragic death, one that illustrates one of the greatest flaws in our justice system. Our prosecutors and judges are too proud to admit that they may not be infallible, and that sometimes someone they thought was guilty was just a victim of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, or looking like the wrong person. This, however, is not what saddens me most about this death.

As I got online to check my Twitter feed, I saw this retweet from @PRIDEinUtah:

RT @jamiekilstein: Maybe we can also watch an uninsured man and a Muslim die tonight and finish the GOP trifecta #utpol #GOP

It is a disgrace that people would use this man’s death not as a learning opportunity, but as a chance to point fingers and throw around embittered political rhetoric. Many did not even personally know this man, but they joined the fight to try to save his life; I can’t imagine that he would approve of this hijacking of his death.

RIP Troy Davis, I respect your fight, and your memory. May your death serve to bring justice back to our justice system.

Rivalry

So I’ve been thinking about sports lately, with the NFL lockout finally over, and football season looming on the horizon. I’m registered in a Yahoo fantasy league, and I’m ready to go. There’s one thing in sports that has always intrigued me: Rivalries.

It’s not that the concept of a rivalry is so incomprehensible, every team needs a rival, just like Superman wouldn’t have much to do without Lex Luthor; I think what I don’t get is why fans get angry, sometimes even violent toward fans of the rival team. I understand the jokes about your rival, everyone does that, and I understand making fun of the team, etc. But when I see video of soccer riots, hockey riots, or fights breaking out at football games, I start to wonder if sports are really good for us.

Time for an illustrative anecdote:
I am a music student at Utah State University, and one of the requirements for my degree is that I complete four years in the Aggie Marching Band. We don’t generally travel much for marching band, but on occasion we do travel to Salt Lake or Provo for the in-state rivalry games against the University of Utah, and Brigham Young University.  A couple of years ago we traveled to Salt Lake for one such game. We boarded our bus in Logan, UT, and headed off through Sardine Canyon to Salt Lake City. Upon arrival we were directed to an area where we would be allowed to unload our instruments and prepare to enter the stadium for the game.

Someone in charge of arranging this either lacked a knowledge of what was in the area, or had remarkable foresight and wanted to torture us; the area where we were told to park was in the back yard of several fraternity/student houses. Of course we had the good fortune to be near the ones consuming large amounts of alcohol. As a brief side note, Utah State University has been terrible at football for years, and there was no question that we were going to lose the game that night. None of us in the band really cared, and most of us probably would have stayed home, given the choice. Back to the story: one of the inebriated Ute fans began loudly describing the manner in which the Utes would systematically dismantle our football team. His ranting fell on deaf ears, so finally he approached individuals. As my luck would have it, the smell of beer and sweat wafted my direction as he walked toward me, finally asking loudly to a group of AMB members, “HOW MUCH DO YOU THINK WE WILL WIN BY TONIGHT!!!!!?” (One of these days I shall have to write a post about why beer makes people deaf…)

At a loss, since this was very un-intimidating and I knew we would lose, I replied, “I’m not sure, but I know it will be higher than your I.Q.”

Luckily he just got confused and backed off, which only further proved my point. By now one has to wonder where I’m going with this. The point is: Why on Earth would someone go to the trouble of antagonizing people who already knew their team was going to lose just for the sake of the rivalry? Why do people fight and try to hurt each other over a game? Why (myself included) do we get offended when our team or educational institution is the brunt of some rivalry joke? I’m realizing more and more that it doesn’t really matter, so I’m just going to relax and enjoy life…

Melvis, this one’s for you…

It seems like forever since I last posted to my blog, and in  truth, it has been. I mean, in this day and age when we are used to having information at our fingertips, the fact that I had internet at my disposal for a total of about ten days in the last two months, it’s not surprising that I felt as though I was going through some kind of withdrawal.

You see, the thing is, moving blows… In the last couple of months I have had to move yet again (as if moving ten months ago wasn’t soon enough) and although the new house is nice, and I have a pool table, the wear and tear of moving, and keeping up with two growing puppies, has really got me down. So, now here I sit, less than twenty days away from Fundamentals Week (the way we refer to “Band Camp” in college to avoid the stupid American Pie joke that it seems will never die) not ready in the slightest for the school year to start.

The thing that really gets me is that at the beginning of the summer I had high hopes, goals and such. I was going to lose some weight, practice more, the usual. Then Mom-in-law decided she didn’t want to live in the old house, which is fair, since it hasn’t been the same since The Dad passed away. Unfortunately it kind of put a kink in the plans. By the time I was done moving stuff, any motivation I may have had to go to the gym was gone, and thus the weight loss thing has kind of stalled. The moving has made it hard to want to practice more than warming up on any given day as well, I’m sure my tuba teacher thinks I’m some sort of slacker, which would be sad, but maybe true, who knows? Throw in The Wife’s broken arm (the unfortunate result of an accidental or misguided attempt at flight off of the steps of the patio onto the concrete below. *Note to self: Cool it on the Superman movies for a while*) and you have a semi-lethal cocktail, an unfortunate confluence of events if you will, that induces lethargy, demotivation, occasional frustration, and some body and head aches.

All of this said, I would not go so far as to say the last two months have been a complete and total drag. I had a good time with my family at The Lake, when they were here, and at the family BBQ, and I have really enjoyed playing with the puppies (although I could really do without the frequent trips to the vet because they get into everything, and haven’t figured out that bees aren’t fun). But sometimes, when I am sitting in my bed at night waiting to sleep, I mourn a little for the loss of time, the things undone, and the fact that my cat has decided to place himself in an ideal location to completely cut off circulation to my arm. Melvis, this one’s for you…