My capacity to be selective has purportedly increased in recent years, upon achieving “graduating senior” status. But I still have to compete with the other graduating seniors for the Classes that Matter. And I still can’t get into Ling 20. Blame resides with the first pass/second pass system, which we love as freshmen and hate as seniors. Something about silly freshmen being allowed to enroll in silly freshmen classes before their graduating senior overlords is just wrong. The worst part is even though the class has been full for a month now, the amount of students enrolled just keeps increasing:
Speaking of math classes, our selection for Fall 2010 is dismal. For some reason in the fall they mainly schedule The Ones that Everybody Takes, Math 110A, 115A, 131A, and 132. Which is absolutely fantastic for the people who have just started their upper divs and absolutely lame for the rest of us. It’s a trend I’ve been noticing - fall quarter has the most intro classes and as the year progresses they offer more specialized/unique/not boring ones. For example last spring I took Math 116, Cryptology, which incidentally is nothing like you think it is if you are unfortunate enough to be fan of the Da Vinci Code. But I’ve never really had an issue with a drought in class selection until this fall - presumably the budget cuts are at fault. Let us weep for the freshmen.
Until this year I was diligently writing a bit about each class I took at UCLA. I have gotten pitiably far behind so I’ll just tell you some of the highlights, although some of these should probably be called lowlights, get it?
CS 180 - Introduction to Algorithms and Complexity Theory: I’ll admit I didn’t really know what to expect from this class, but I did assume it would be useful for a computer-person specializing in mathematics. After all, it’s about algorithms. But it ended up being weighty and a bit too abstract and a bit too impossible. Every week I was assigned 4 impossible problems to solve by myself, problems which I spent hours thinking about without actually making any progress, and problems which I consequently got depressed about before writing down some crap and turning them in anyways. Fortunately the professor seemed to know his class was awful and let us out 30-40 minutes early from each lecture. And made some nerdy algorithm jokes, which I would have appreciated much more if I weren’t in a dank, stuffy room with no windows, surrounded by smelly undergraduate engineers.
CS 174A - Introduction to Computer Graphics: I still can’t believe the turkey that taught this class. On Day 1 he says to us “don’t expect to have enjoyable lectures,” and “I’m not going to make any funny jokes.” (This was a lie. He made several funny jokes. In fact I would say his ratio of funny jokes to normal speech was a bit higher than many other professors.) But he also told us some stuff about how learning is supposed to be a painful process, and how terrible our calculus and linear algebra skills were. So all-in-all he was a bit of a downer. He liked to tell us nothing about what would be on the exams. I scored about 30% on the midterm, which was the most below-average I have ever been on anything. I’m assuming this was because he threatened to give us negative credit for sufficiently awful answers, which dissuaded me from filling the page with my usual bullshit (I think this was his goal.)
This guy was quite full of himself, but deservedly so - he was brilliant. But he made it a little too apparent that teaching was not His Thing. After the midterm he gave us a course evaluation where he asked us to vent all of our concerns with him and with the class. Then he spent an entire class session discussing what we wrote, making legitimate excuses for some of our issues, but actually promising change for others. We left uplifted, or not completely screwed for the first time in the seven weeks we had been in the class. Then, he left the country. This sounds made up but I swear to you that he left the country and didn’t teach the rest of the class, just in time to not do anything he said he was going to do.
We were left in the astoundingly clumsy hands of the TA who spoke at about 50% normal speed. A smart guy, I’m sure, but he drew things out so much with his incredibly thick accent masking his already-broken English, things we didn’t particularly wish to hear in the first place. So I am pleased to announce that this is my new Worst Class of All Time, surpassing even 10th and 11th grade English.
German: I took an entire year of German just for kibbles and bits. I guess it’s because I like languages and because high-school me willed it. In the fall my TA was an old man, who was about as far from stimulating as I can imagine, and who failed to get us to speak German basically at all. He did quirky things like give us four copies of the same handout (maybe he had memory issues.) But I lucked out in winter and spring, when I had a very fun TA who reminded me a lot of my French TAs from freshman year. It was a good class, I met some great people (this is another reason I like to take languages.) But I’m afraid my retention of German is not so great - probably because German is hard. For some reason it’s much less intuitive to me than Spanish or French. My biggest problem is that there are way too many prepositions: an, ab, auf, aus, in, um, zu,, bei, neben, hinter, zwischen, nach, mit,durch, gegen, von, innerhalb, wahrend, etc., then of course they often contracted with other words, hinab, hinaus, herab, damit, danach, beim, zum, am, im, zum, hinterm, vom... All I can say is stay far away from German if you struggled with Spanish or French.
It has occurred to me that the university (at least mine) focuses on the theoretical rather than the practical, the abstract rather than the concrete. I suppose this is probably better, since the practical is usually a whole lot more obvious. But it creates a feeling of aimlessness that I find hard to shake. Am I really learning? Are these four years of solving impossible problems worth it? Being able to recite some new facts is a bit more tangible evidence of learning than suspecting “my thought patterns are a little different now.” I did have a bit of an epiphany during my sophomore year about mathematics and knowledge in general (this would take several more paragraphs to discuss), but how do I know that my university education is responsible, and that it wasn’t something that would have dawned on me regardless?
Coinciding with this is the longest creative draught I have experienced since I started calling myself a composer. This I am still struggling with. You would think that any emotion at all would lend itself to writing music (happy music. anxious music. sad music. mad music. lonely music.) But I have always found it much easier to write when in an optimistic/carefree/happy mood. Composing has never been very natural for me, but it is a bit alarming that stress seems to completely kill the entire process. This is something to think about, and for you to think about with me.
We played some incredible music this year in UCLA symphony:
Balakirev - Symphony no. 1: Oh how this piece grew on me. I am unsure why I did not like it at first, perhaps because it opens a bit slowly, with unquestionably the worst movement of the four. Not bad, but not terribly interesting - except a few bars towards the end of the piece where with a few brass chords he seamlessly gets the music back from Db to C. Half step modulations have always sounded terrible to me, but this one works. Then comes a scherzo which is probably one of the few classical works which I would describe as “catchy,” especially in its climaxes over a low A pedal. Then an andante with a melody which reminded me of the kind of melody I used to write. It’s even in Db, the key I imagine all pretty melodies in. I of course liked this movement instantly, although looking back I think its climax is a little less than effective: a bit of muddy orchestration of an odd chord, much less impassioned than a simple restatement of the melody earlier in the piece. A beautiful movement in general, but with a lot of exposed string writing in difficult keys, worsened by our hall’s unspectacular acoustics. The finale was the best movement of the four, and shouldn’t it be? It opens with a folk melody which I don’t particularly care for, except in that it makes me feel like I’m playing Tchaikovsky. Then a very upbeat clarinet melody which begins a triumphant allegro. Strings in octaves punctuated with brass and percussion - what’s not to like?
Tchaikovsky - Symphony no. 2: Another one that grew on me, but not all of it. The slow movement still sounds like it was written for the equivalent of today’s elementary school string players, some kind of stupid children’s march which spends way too much time with the dominant and tonic and no time anywhere else. But I’m willing to overlook this one because the surrounding movements are incredible. The first movement, absolutely a blast to play, is probably the most reminiscent of Tchaikovsky’s 4th-6th symphonies which were the works which pulled me into classical music in the first place. Sometimes in an orchestral string section the writing makes it difficult to play energetically - Tchaikovsky will have none of that. This was the most bow-hair-breaking piece I have performed since Rodeo. 3rd is a scherzo, which is a word I have difficulty using to describe a piece which sounds as angry as this flurry of notes. Completely relentless, even in its transition to the brief trio. The final movement is nothing spectacular, but closes with a very Russian blast of C major, which works for me.
Stravinsky - Suite from The Firebird: Further evidence that Stravinsky was way ahead of his time. Listen to the 60-second Firebird variation and you will have no idea you’re listening to something from the early 1900s. A sort of romantic modernism, breaking away from the last few restrictions of the classical era while still embracing natural forms and occasional lyricism, the kind of modernism I love and strive for. Top notch orchestration - this was after several revisions of the original ballet. It reminds me of Ravel at times - particularly the lullaby near the end of the piece, which occasionally sounds almost plagiarized from the opening to Ravel’s own Rapsodie Espganole (In a good way.) Then the Infernal dance, 4 minutes of rhythmic fervor which reminds me of modern wind ensemble literature. And of course, the unforgettable B-major Finale, easily one of the most triumphant moments in all of classical music.
Vaughan-Williams - Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis: Have I really never written about this before? Along with Barber’s Adagio and Part’s Silouan’s Song this is one of the few works of string orchestra literature which doesn’t bore me. Quite the opposite, in fact. The Phrygian mode is as close as I will ever get to spirituality. I have wondered for a while now why modern composers don’t embrace the medieval modes more. This piece is haunting, like it’s the music of god, and it’s just because the As are flat instead of natural. And I’ll stop there because any more and I would feel like I’m repeating myself.
Elgar - Cello Concerto: This piece is devastating: I feel guilty that it was right before intermission. Shouldn’t we leave the audience with something uplifting? Elgar has this style of writing where he almost completely abandons the tonic, going minutes at a time without resolution. In high school I fond it very difficult to listen to; only when I come back to this piece 4 years later do I realize it’s supposed to be. How could you live in post-WWI Europe and write music with a nice perfect cadence every 8 bars? The third movement in particular tears me apart. It has nothing that is normally found in what I consider pretty music: no fortissimo climax, no soaring string melody, no suspensions. It just goes for a short 4 minutes and somehow it’s the saddest thing you’ve ever heard. The soloist just floats back and forth above the orchestra, meandering aimlessly, a bit reminiscent of Messiaen’s Louange à l’Éternité de Jesus from the Quatuor pour la Fin du Temps. And of course the material is restated towards the end of the 4th movement, just to make me even sadder.
Ravel - Ma Mère l’Oye: The most restrained of his orchestral works, I felt it was a good fit for our orchestra. Its highlights include l’Impératrice des Pagodes, a quick 2/4 dance over a major pentatonic scale. I love the last few chords: every note of the scale sounded simultaneously - and it’s still beautiful. Further proof that is impossible to write anything ugly with a major pentatonic scale. Then there is La Belle et la Bête, its titular characters represented by a romantic waltz and the rare contrabassoon, respectively. What a fun instrument the contrabassoon is. If you have never heard one solo before you should look into this piece. The work closes with Le Jardin Férique, a slow C major crescendo to a final few bars of sparkling harp and celesta over string trills and sustained horn chords.
And a not so great piece:
Mozart - Flute Concerto no. 1: I maintain that this piece could be played without much difficulty by a 5th grader. It’s absolutely unspectacular. I know you know I dislike classical era music in general, but this is just so much worse than Mozart’s own Symphonia Concertante, which we played last year, or any concerto by Haydn. At least the soloist had some nice cadenzas.
I have somehow managed to get a paid internship with Edison Mission here in Irvine. Mostly what has resulted is further disappointment at the plodding tempo of office life. Always waiting for somebody. Which isn’t quite what I needed, but at least this time I get money. It’s difficult to be here daily from 8-5, but I have survived for two full weeks now. The whole experience has grimly foreshadowed the rest of my life. At least I have a fallback position: math teacher. And perhaps my career as a composer will suddenly and surprisingly take off. But that’s probably just a bit of wishful thinking. I often feel guilty for doing so little here. Must try to convince myself it’s okay to take money from large corporations.
I’m approaching 2700 words - which is significantly longer than anything academic I have ever written. Am I redeemed now? Can I go back to saying I have a blog after 7 months of neglect? If you actually read this far without skipping please let me know, and please allow me buy you some delicious food.
