The Big One

I’m a bit annoyed that I am now a senior but I still can’t get into Linguistics 20. If you have ever talked to me about enrollment you probably know that I have been interested in this class for as long as I have been at UCLA. It’s always been sort of low priority: some other class filling rapidly inevitably forces me to spend my precious first-pass units elsewhere. For the Math 30 series and the first few math upper divs, there are generally 3 sections of each course offered each quarter, one taught by an awesome professor and two taught by horrible professors. Then there was always some GE which I was sure would fill up much quicker than Ling 20 (Scand 50W, Poli Sci 50, Geog 5...). Thus leaving me with zero choice in the allocation of my first pass units for my first few years as an undergraduate.

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.

2010

California's recent storms have coincided nicely with our discussion of weather in German. Almost immediately after my professor began to teach some weather vocabulary today came a roar of thunder - particularly loud because the classroom door was open.

Yesterday we waited about 30 minutes in similar weather outside of the Griddle Cafe in Hollywood, which turned out to be quite worth the wait. We ordered a giant pancake filled with Oreos, which was incredibly tasty, and so large that two of us could only finish about 2/3 of it. The issue was not so much its size as its sugar content. I would like to know precisely how many Oreos I consumed yesterday, because I have never been so repulsed by the thought of sweet food as I was after that pancake. I have now gone nearly a day and a half without eating anything sugary, which is a little unusual for me.

And now for a discussion of an eternally evident trend: that frequency of blog posts varies inversely with the blog's age.

Over the void of the past few months I have developed an admiration for daily bloggers - this is something to work towards. (Side note: Blogger.com's spell check insists that "blog" and "blogger" are not words.)When you've just started a blog the words come effortlessly: in 2007 I posted 17 times in November and December alone. You might not suspect writing a few sentences each day to be difficult - it certainly sounds simple to me.

But I have some chronic writer's block. I've attributed it to a lack of motivation: the same deficiency which prevents me from picking up a book and reading it, working on a large-scale programming project, or actually getting the music in my head onto paper. Instead I find myself watching movies and television, presumably due to their minimal brainpower requirement.

Case in point: this weekend I watched all three Bourne movies, which were quite enjoyable, though a bit formulaic:

Bourne, to self: Who am I?!
Some CIA division head: I want all eyes in (European city) on Bourne! Give the asset his location!
Bourne, on the phone with division head: Send (CIA employee) to meet me at (crowded European city square). Come alone!
Some CIA employee: That place is a surveillance nightmare!!
CIA division head: I want snipers on the rooftops! And all eyes on Bourne!
Bourne: You didn't come alone! I'm out of here!
(car chase in which Bourne escapes and then travels to another European city)

Intellectualism has been pushed to the sidelines. Although recently Frank told me he might be able to show my clarinet sonata to a clarinetist and a pianist, which prompted me to make some revisions. Since I finished the piece last summer there have been a few unsatisfactory spots: in particular a stale restatement of the main melody of the first movement down an octave. I've since replaced it with a passage in which the clarinetist refuses to play, to the pianist's dismay. They proceed to musically mock each other until the pianist flips out and begins to play discordant variations on the clarinet's themes. Of course, this probably sounds much more interesting in words than in reality.

This has only confirmed my suspicion that I need some incentive beyond personal satisfaction to actually accomplish things. School is never an issue because it entails its own deadlines and provides immediate feedback. But I worry that when I lack the motivation to do what I consider my hobbies, there might be a problem.

What motivates you?

Spring 2009 Concert

I just realized I never wrote about our concert in May - which was probably the most crowd-pleasing concert I've experienced to date. Take a look at the literature:

• Tchaikovsky - "Romeo and Juliet" Fantasy-Overture: Who doesn't know the love theme? Maybe you find it trite due to its popularity - but let me tell you playing it is a whole new experience altogether. Minute-long extended passages of strings playing legato in octaves - this is romanticism, and I can still appreciate it (I was doubting this.) Then there's the rest of the piece - which has quite a few extended 16th-note runs in the strings, including cellos. Which aren't particularly bad since they are in B minor, which is a nice key for strings. So I could play them farily accurately all quarter long until the concert, when my fingers froze up and I basically flopped my way through every one - story of my life I guess.
• Bernstein - Chichester Psalms: The highlight of the concert for me - I suppose it's because the piece is right up my alley at the moment: not too dissonant, but unconventional harmonies, complex meters (most of the first movement is in 7/4, most of the third is 10/4, divided into two groups of 2+3/4), and colorful orchestration (the first movement requires something like 6-7 percussionists). The University Choir who we performed with did an outstanding job - although I discovered when watching a video recording that they dragged a bit during the first movement. The countertenor soloist in the second movement was quite good - though unfortunately everything is harder to hear when you're in the middle of the ensemble.
• Dvorak - Symphony no. 9 "From the New World": Is there a more famous symphony than this one? Unfortunately the cello part is mediocre and forgettable, like Dvorak's cello parts often are. And then there's the godawful trio in the otherwise exciting scherzo, and that anticlimactic woodwind diminuendo on the last note of the piece. It has its moments - the adagio's gorgeous English horn solo, the giant E-major tremolos in the coda - but I will be honest here and admit performing this was a little disappointing (boy, how my tastes have changed.) But at least audiences still eat this one up.
  

Winter Concert

Tonight was our winter concert, so I figured I'd write my thoughts on each piece as usual as a means to procrastinate on writing a real entry:

Copland - An Outdoor Overture
Such nostalgia from freshman year of high school, when this was the opener to our marching band field show. It doesn't have the greatest cello part - we don't even get to play at all during the gorgeous middle section. But I love this piece, its driving rhythms and subtle transitions.

Mozart - Sinfonia Concertante, K. 364
This was probably the first time that I have actually enjoyed performing Mozart - thanks mostly to our phenomenal soloists. Virtuosic violinists are a dime a dozen, but rarely do we hear a good violist, especially when their solo repertoire is so small. But even the music itself stands out to me among Mozart's other work - the first movement in particular seems more passionate than your typical Mozart (aside from works like the Requiem).

Bizet - L'Arlésienne Suites 1 and 2
Bizet is gorgeous as usual - but I'm a little unimpressed that the work's transition of choice seems to be to stop and then resume again with completely different material. I can understand not wanting to drastically alter the original music in creating suites, but there have got to be some leitmotifs or something that could be used to bridge the gaps between sections a little.

Orchestra, Fall 2008

Each Wednesday night reminds me that playing in an orchestra is some kind of enigmatic healing ritual. Nothing consoles you about your terrible week and that ugly red 66 on your Math 33B midterm quite like pulling out a cello and playing some 20th century classical music. I am rejuvenated - orchestra is the only addiction of mine more powerful than sugar. It's a bit worrisome how much I enjoy it - I hope there are opportunities to continue it after college.

This quarter's program for UCLA Symphony includes the following:

Brahms - Academic Festival Overture
This summer was continuous hoping to play the overture to Candide, so seeing this on our program in September was a little disappointing. I have never been very fond of Brahms, but after five weeks I will admit reluctantly that this does have its moments. I try to think on the positive side: at least he doesn't screw over the trombones here like he does in his symphonies. At least it's not the overture to Don Giovanni. At least the original is better than that awful transcription for band...

Liszt - Piano Concerto no. 2
This is the kind of piece that I would have enjoyed a lot more about 3 years ago, when I lived on the seeping romanticism of Tchaikovsky and Rachmaninoff. But as soon as I heard the soloist I fell in love with it again. The soloist is fantastic and I like his interpretation more than Richter's. I find it amusing that I will have now performed three concerti with UCLA Symphony and all of them are for different keyboard - first an organ concerto by Rheinberger, then a harpsichord concerto by Poulenc, and now this. Our part is refreshingly involved accompaniment, unlike certain concerti I have played over the past few years (Saent-Saëns' first violin concerto comes to mind.)

Delius - Walk to Paradise Garden from Village Romeo and Juliet
The opera that this is from is pretty screwed up - it's like Romeo and Juliet, except instead of Romeo and Juliet it's Sali and Vrenchen, which are probably two of the least romantic sounding names imaginable. Fortunately that is quite the opposite of this interlude, which is strikingly gorgeous - Delius is like the English version of Ravel. The climax is one of those tutti string passages, where the celli play in the high tenor clef range, and we melt the audience. So pretty.

Prokofiev - Suite from Lt. Kijé
I have also never liked Prokofiev much. But maybe I just wasn't listening to the right pieces. This music is from the score to the 1927 Russian film, Lieutenant Kijé, and it's quite nice. Prokofiev orchestrates just how I love - like Poulenc, lightly and sparsely - everything shimmers. It's unique, and it's colorful - a string bass solo that isn't Mahler, a tenor sax that isn't Gershwin, and jingle bells!. The first movement even has some major sevenths. It's like this music was written for me.

All romantic and modern - I wonder how we get away with this.

Weekend in Irvine, Spring finals week

Last Thursday was a bit hectic because I had my French oral final and my AUD 10b final. My last assignment of the quarter was the 9th homework for PIC10b. My printer had run out of ink the previous night, so I wanted to finish the written part of the homework during discussion (It was held in the PIC lab on Thursdays, so I could use a printer there.) It didn't take much time at all to finish so I printed it and left early to go "study" for AUD which I had immediately afterwards.

The next day was the last day of class. (As a side note, the only one of my teachers who received applause this quarter was my French teacher, who ironically won't be allowed to return to UCLA next year.) I turned in the written part of the PIC 10b homework and then realized that in my haste on Thursday I had neglected to place the homework's programming part (C++ files) into the submit folder by the Thursday, 6 PM deadline. Needless to say I couldn't pay attention in class. At 10:50 I hurried to the PIC lab and submitted my homework - I was going to talk to the professor but then I saw on the syllabus: No late homework will be accepted for any reason.

I pretty much gave up hope until I woke up this morning and checked MyUCLA to see that I have received normal credit on the assignment. I guess they didn't collect the files until the reader graded the homework. This pleased me.

Later I went back to Irvine so I could watch the Northwood Philharmonic play some of my favorite pieces:

• Maurice Ravel's Tzigane - Ian did an absolutely fantastic job with this. The orchestra did quite well too, considering it was Ravel.
• Samuel Barber's Adagio for Strings - I think a lot of us were spiteful about this one because we all wanted to play it after sightreading it last year. I thought it was amusing that the high parts (including uncomfortably high treble clef passages for the cellos) were much more in tune than the low one. But this allowed them to pull off the climax very successfully - quite good overall.
• George Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue - A pretty difficult piece and the orchestra did alright. Ellen played the solo piano part well too, although there were balance problems between the orchestra and the piano (I'm not sure if it's her fault or the piano's - I had previously only been on the opposite side of the piano)

And now for two lovely food-related photographs- first, the most glorious Sun Chip yet discovered (Phillip's countenance depicts our awe):
My brother likes to eat entire cans of pineapple at a time:

I had to return to UCLA Sunday morning so that I could take the PIC 10b final exam at 3 PM, which was relatively easy. They handed us a sheet with the solutions on it immediately after the exam. My algorithms for many of the programs we had to write on the exam varied from those on the solution sheet, but I'm confident they work just as well. Except for one, which I later realized would be an infinite loop (oops).

My next final was French, on Tuesday night - at least that's what I thought. I ate dinner and walked over to Rolfe Hall and became a little uneasy at the lack of anyone I knew there. However, all the French 3 finals are held in the same room at the same time, so this was only somewhat unusual. Then a girl a few rows in front of me asked another girl "You're in French 2? Oh, the French 1 and 2 finals are at the same time?" So I concluded that the French 3 final was at the same time as well. Then a bunch of French teachers entered, including mine - except it was mine from last quarter. So I left the room and took out the syllabus: Final Exam: Wednesday, June 11. Oops.

The actual final was easy as expected - except it seemed to neglect over half of what we learned this quarter. I guess that benefited the majority of people in the room.

Last night I went to bed around 2 AM and was having a wonderful dream until someone in my dream started hacking at my guts with a giant ax. Then I woke up and realized it was just the fire alarm going off, though these have basically the same effect (my ears are still ringing). I put on a sweatshirt, grabbed my key, put on my shoes and trudged down the stairs half-asleep. As usual the Hedrick Summit staff was whining at us to cross the street, and then to get out of the street. This time there was a cranky police officer telling us the same thing ("What part of get out of the street do you not understand?") We were slowly herded into Parking Lot 15 as usual until 30 minutes passed and they told us we could go back into the building. Unfortunately for Summit 4, someone had set off a fire extinguisher and they weren't allowed to return there yet.

Everyone was pretty pissed off and pretty asleep throughout the whole incident but I couldn't help but feel a sense of unity. We were completely screwed over the night before our last finals, but we were all in this together. One of the more memorable experiences of this year, to be sure.

Today was the Linear Algebra final, much easier than expected. It basically mirrored the practice Final which we got last week, except with slightly more irritating problems. Even checking my work, I finished in under 2 hours. I may actually get an A in math this quarter.

Now I've entered that awful limbo between the end of finals and actually receiving grades for them.

Almost June

One week of class left and I've been accumulating a bunch of random stuff to mention here.

Yesterday was the final discussion for AUD 10b (We don't have one tenth week because the final is on Thursday.) As the TA was leaving so that we could fill out the course evaluations she told us "If you still haven't received your grade for the first essay, get in contact with the professor." I was already apprehensive about the essay because we turned it in early May and she said grades would be sent out over two weeks ago. But as I was looking up the professor's email address in the syllabus to contact her I started to panic because it didn't look familiar at all. I checked my sent mail folder and sure enough I had sent the electronic copy of my essay to a different address. I flipped out and emailed her another copy and asked if it was a problem. I feared she wouldn't accept it this late or wouldn't respond to me ever. Much to my surprise I received a short email less than 20 minutes later, with nothing but two short sentence fragments and some questionable punctuation:
"A.
good work, well-written and organized..."

A while ago there was a lot of fuss about the iPhone, which I was never too fond of. But as she unveiled to me yesterday, Cassandra has finally finished engineering her very own iPhone competitor. Finally some trendy new technology that I can support!
And here's a nice photo of me talking jauntily on the new iPhone killer (You'll have to excuse my hair for being so dark that it's difficult to see the upper half)
And speaking of phones, a glorious new face was discovered yesterday on the back of the case of Cassandra's:

A few awkward conversation fragments my ears picked up over the past few weeks while walking past people:

• Guy on a cell phone: "All your friends are gay. I don't want to be your friend anymore."
• Girl, to two friends: "And you know what Chris did? He quit his Pokémon application because they weren't as cute."
• Guy, to another guy walking with him: "I haven't had hiccups in like two years. If I have hiccups it's going to be monstrous."

Our Linear Algebra professor is a bit old and for the most part completely uninteresting but he has responded memorably to a few questions over the past two weeks:

• Guy in our class: "What does it mean where it says 'not covered but interesting' on the review sheet?"
  Professor: "You should probably know that material but you will not be tested on it. It basically means it's more interesting to me than it is to you right now."
• Professor: "The TAs will be reviewing tomorrow in your recitation sections."
  Guy in our class: "What if I can't go tomorrow?"
  Professor: "Well... then you can't go."
• Guy in our class, two days before midterm: "Can you email us the key to the practice midterm?"
  Profesor: "No, there is no key to the practice midterm."
  Guy: "Can you make up one?"
  Professor: "No, I'm really behind. I have to make up an exam first."
  

And a cryptic message inscribed across the bottom of a desk in MS 5200:
"(scribble) eer on (scribble)
Now I know they don't kill you."

Words that make me lament my love of language:

• Legit - Generally used as a synonym for "good". As in "That's legit." I am going to start using illegit exclusively to mean "bad". Anyone want to join me?
• Down - Used to mean "want". As in "Are you down for going to Rendezvous? Yeah I'm totally down for that."
  
• Unnecessary prepositions - Mostly the phrase "Where're you at?"
• Catch - Used to mean "meet". As in "I'll catch you later."
  
• Bounce - Used as a synonym for "leave". As in "I think I'm going to bounce."

Speaking of bouncing, two bounce houses appeared mysteriously today outside of Hedrick. Their purpose is still unknown.

Yesterday we drove to Santa Monica to eat at Buca di Beppo for my sister's birthday. And I couldn't help but think the entire time how much of a nightmare it must be to live anywhere in LA. It lacks the efficient mass transportation found in nearly every other large city in the world, forcing everyone to drive everywhere. This might be tolerable if the streets weren't so tiny and if there were any parking anywhere. I'm definitely moving either east of LA or staying in Orange County after I'm done with college. UCLA is nice but the rest of LA is a hellhole.

I am currently about five minutes into a new work for band - which has been my number one goal since January or so. You can see proof that I'm not making this up here. The principal motif for this work is a retrograde inversion of the main motif of the middle section of Clockwork, a piece which is about a year old now. I was messing around with the piece earlier this year and discovered how nice some it sounds backwards. It's both a melodic and a rhythmic inversion - the dotted eighth - sixteenth - eighth rhythm is now eighth - sixteenth - dotted eighth. It's a bit of an unusual rhythm so I hope my notation is clear enough. To make the piece a bit more rhythmically interesting I also shorted the middle pulse of each measure from three sub-pulses to two - Instead of 9/8 with 3 major beats it is now written as 3+2+3/8.

The piece starts with a few tutti passages that most closely resemble the original inversion, then quickly breaks down into a sporadic section, with rapidly changing instrumentation, a lot of call-and-response type writing. The main rhythmic motif is constantly heard throughout. Eventually it builds to a climax of one of the secondary melodies, which is where I am right now. The current plan for finishing is to make it die down a little, bring it back up gradually to a recapitulation of the opening and then a flashy coda. After I finish this I will orchestrate (and drastically revise) the original Clockwork for band and hopefully have a nice two-movement suite.

Spring concert

Tonight was the third and final concert of the year for UCLA Symphony. (For some reason this quarter it was on Wednesday of 9th week instead of 10th, and now I feel like there are only two days of class left.)

The program included the following:

Wagner - Overture to The Flying Dutchman
Quintessential Wagner, doused in romanticism I might have appreciated more a few years ago. It's a bit over the top and thick for my tastes now. The string parts are filled with quick runs but it doesn't matter if you can play them or not because the brass dominates the sound, the strings are mostly for texture. I got a little shaky during the performance and didn't fake it as well as usual. Despite my gripes it's still very satisfying to perform as an overture. The andante sections are beautiful and it ends with a nice, fat D major chord.

Poulenc - Concert Champêtre
I am in love with this piece and I am in love with Poulenc. He's like Ravel or Debussy except less pretty and more deranged (Not to say he doesn't create some gorgeous moments too, though.) I'm not sure if you've listened to much Baroque harpsichord music, but it seriously drives me nuts. To get an idea, imagine a bunch of metal bees being passed through a blender over and over, while buzzing. That's Baroque harpsichord. But this piece makes me love harpsichord, that's how amazing it is - too bad you didn't come see us perform it, jerk. It's a harpsichord concerto, written over a hundred years after harpsichord was mostly abandoned in favor of the piano. Though the harpsichord is much less powerful than a piano, Poulenc chose to accompany it with a full Romantic orchestra. Scored lightly and colorfully, this piece shimmers - absolutely gorgeous orchestration. The same modal writing and extended chords you'd find in other French impressionist music. Rapid meter changes towards the end - reminds me of some modern band music. I definitely need to hear some more Poulenc - he's certainly deserving of much more attention than we give him!

Beethoven - Symphony no. 6, "Pastoral"
I'm not the biggest fan of Beethoven; playing his 7th symphony in November 2006 at NHS left me a bit pessimistic about performing his work. The Pastoral symphony is a bit nontraditional in that it is programmatic unlike most of Beethoven's work. It depicts a countryside and from what I have gathered, a bunch of frivolity. It also breaks from the standard form of a symphony, set in five movements with the last three played attacca. Unfortunately the second and longest movement puts me to sleep as swiftly as Pachelbel's Canon. I've never really understood Beethoven's string parts, with constant string crossings and awkward intervals, they are about as far from idiomatic as possible. On older bows this must have been even more difficult. The same arpeggiated figures appear in the woodwind parts, which I can imagine makes them very awkward as well.

Tonight I found that a more-experienced orchestra is bit more successful at reaching the audience with this kind of music, though - more attention was paid to the dynamic contrast and lightness that is vital to interpreting Beethoven, this symphony in particular. And there's something immensely rewarding about sounding the last F major chord of a 50-minute symphony, feeling like your back is going to give out any second. It's like finishing a great novel or something. But I'd still rather play Schubert.

PIC 10b quotes, French words, AUD midterm, a face, and music

Lectures in PIC 10b typically start like this:

The professor of the previous class, finishing up talking to his students: "...But let me get out of the way so the next class can get started."
My professor: "No, no, we've got ten minutes. Take your time!"

I have started writing down other notable Wittman quotes.

• About the word queue:
  "I hate that word. Because it just looks terrible. It gives me the shivers. I hate writing it, I hate hearing it, I hate saying it. It reminds me of my 8th grade English teacher, who used to sneeze by saying queue."
• About this image, which was on the title slide of his lecture about binary trees: (Every document he gives us or shows us has a Star Wars image on it. He doesn't actually like Star Wars that much; it's more of a running gag)
  "Is that a squirrel?"
  "I guess so. You search 'Star Wars trees' and that's what comes up. A squirrel on a speeder.' "
  

It's time to update the list of awesome French words! (The bold ones are new!)

Orthographically awesome French words:

• créée - Feminine past participle of créer, to create.
• mangeaient - Third person imperfect plural form of manger, to eat. (I spelled this incorrectly when I first wrote about it!)
  
• étudiions - First person plural present subjunctive form of étudier, to study.
  

Phonologically awesome French words:

• semblable - similar - Because "blab" sounds like "blob."
• souhaite/souhaites/souhaitent - From souhaiter, to wish - Because they sound like "sweat".
• honnêteté - honesty - This one speaks for itself.

In Spanish with conditional si clauses you use the imperfect of the subjunctive mood:
Si tuviera mucho dinero, sería contento.
In French with conditional si clauses you use the imperfect of the indicative mood:
Si j'avais beaucoup d'argent, je serais content.

This bothers me.


Yesterday was the midterm for AUD 10B, which was quite easy - aside from the ten questions about projects that the professor neglected to put on the list of projects we need to know. Much more exciting than the midterm was the 20 minute hiatus that the back third of the classroom and I had to endure while the TAs hunted around north campus for a functional copy machine. The exam was also mysteriously missing a page which had to be distributed to all 120+ students. The girl next to me was clearly bored and slightly insane and started to hum elaborate melodies while we waited. The girl in front of me turned around and gave her a look which combined "Are you seriously singing right now?" and "I am going to kill you immediately."

While reviewing the review slides I stumbled upon another face that I have forgotten to document here:
These lovely gardens are those of the Château de Vaux-le-Vicomte, in Maincy, France, landscaped by André le Nôtre.

It has occurred to me that I haven't written much about the music I have written this year, so here is an attempt:

• I have yet again revised my suite for string orchestra, with significant changes to the third movement, a new ending, and some performance notes - hopefully I am approaching a final version.
• I have also arranged both movements of Winter Solstice for percussion ensemble (which they mostly were to begin with anyway). They are very simplistic, but so were the originals. Plus, I can pass this off as branching out stylistically!
• Last Friday I finished a new MP3 work, in typical style. I'm quite fond of it still, though this is perhaps just becuase it's the first one since November.

A final side note: Today is Tchaikovsky's 168th birthday!

Circus Maximus

Last night I was fortunate enough to attend a performance of John Corigliano's masterpiece Circus Maximus by the USC Wind Ensemble at the Walt Disney Concert Hall. The hall was an experience in itself, as this was the first time I had been there since its completion. Unfortunately I forgot to bring my camera so I couldn't take any pictures, but the ushers were adamantly disallowing photography inside the hall anyway. The hall is visually stunning (aside from some tacky flowery carpeting and seats) but its true forte is acoustics. A particularly surreal moment occurred before Circus Maximus' 5th movement, Night Music II, which opens with a jazzy phrase by the antiphonal clarinetist, who was situated on a balcony in the right side of the hall. Before her solo I noticed her taking a drink from a water bottle she had brought with her. After finishing she capped the bottle and I heard it clearly from basically the opposite side of the hall. This is the best way I can think of describing just how stunning these acoustics are.

The concert opened with the CSU Northridge Wind Ensemble playing a modern arrangement of Mendelssohn's Overture for Band. I am not particularly fond of the piece but the band sounded fantastic - perfect intonation and balance, thanks in no small part to the venue. They continued with a work by Grainger (who is growing on me) titled Colonial Song, and concluded with a band transcription of Three Dance Episodes from On the Town, by Leonard Bernstein, which was fantastic.

Between the two short intermissions was a performance by the CalArts New Millennium Brass of Nick Didkovsky's Slim in Beaten Dreamers, which, if I am reading the program notes correctly, was partially written by a computer. This piece was avant-garde in its fullest, and unfortunately not the good kind.

The program ended (and rightfully so) with Circus Maximus, which is easily the most amazing piece of music ever composed. Corigliano appeared on-stage for about 10 minutes prior to the performance explaining the premises of the work and its eight movements. If I haven't already raved to you about this piece I urge you to read the work's program notes and this review of the premiere performance by the UT Wind Ensemble in 2005 (particularly the last three paragraphs). In a nutshell Corigliano creates a metaphor between the Circus Maximus of ancient Rome and the constant sensual bombardment of the modern world (but those links can explain it much better than I can). A few examples of Corigliano's genius:

• Form. Even the simplistic seventh movement, Prayer, is a masterpiece of musical form, starting quietly as I described but over a few minutes building to a full on-stage band tutti, in the most familiar tonality of any section of the work. The piece simply had direction - a huge contrast to the Didkovsky piece earlier in the evening.
  
• Ingenuity. Every instrument was used to its fullest capabilities. Perfectly in-tune minor seconds in the clarinets (must have been extremely difficult to pull off) inthe fourth movement, Night Music I, create a surreal, pad-like sound. Horns convincingly imitate the howl of wolves in the same movement. Percussion instruments I have never even seen before. Clarinets playing with their bells high in the air each time the Introitus music returned. Aleatoric elements that I can't even begin to describe, having not seen the score for myself.
  
• Antiphony. If you're unfamiliar with the term, antiphony is when a piece of music has a spatial component. In the case of Circus Maximus, a sax quartet with a string bass, a clarinet, three percussionists, two horns, and eleven trumpets were scattered around the hall. The first movement, Introitus, opens with trumpet fanfares blasting across the hall from each of the antiphonal trumpets. The third movement, Channel Surfing, consists of music sounding from around the hall in increasingly short, quick spurts.
• Contrast. It constantly shifts from extreme to extreme, from the softest pianissimo of clarinets and low reeds to the volume of the most passionate Mahler times ten. The sixth movement and climax of the piece, simply called Circus Maximus, is a chaos of sound from all angles, which builds increasingly tense as a small marching band parades through the hall. The crescendo builds to the absolute loudest chord you will ever hear, played (as far as I could tell) simultaneously by every single performer in the hall and sustained for a good 30 seconds before dying down. The seventh movement, Prayer, creates about the biggest imaginable contrast with what precedes it: simple, sustained melodies over sustained IV-I cadences. Softly the fanfares begin playing beneath the Prayer music and eventually the opening fanfares return in a flurry of sound in the final movement, Veritas. The piece concludes with trumpets blaring a note in unison for a few seconds, while one percussionist raises a shotgun into the air, the audience knows what is coming next. The trumpets drop a whole step and the work ends with the roar of a gunshot. How can any piece of music even come close to this? There are no more extremes to create, no further upper limits to breach.
  

Leap Day

Writing in your blog on Leap Day is obligatory so here is my attempt.

Wednesday was my first pass for signing up for classes for Spring quarter. The original plan was this:

10:00-10:50 PIC10b
12:00-12:50 French 3
1:00-1:50 Math 33A
2:00-3:50 Linguistics 20

As predicted this plan has miserably failed, this time because 33A with Laub and Linguistics 20 were both filled by the time my pass started. Now it looks like it will be the following:

8:00-8:50 Math 33A
9:00-9:50 French 3
10:00-10:50 PIC 10b

and I will have to wait and see what is left for my fourth class.

Yesterday we entered the stairwell on the way to dinner and saw a bunch of inspiring post-it notes stuck to the walls of multiple floors. I photographed as many as possible but there were 2-3 that I missed:
Whoever is responsible is my new hero, though I suppose this goes without saying.

March 12 is my second concert as part of UCLA Symphony. This quarter's program is as follows:

Glinka - Overture to Russlan and Ludmilla
Lots of nostalgia of Sophomore year marching band with this one. It sounds quite good at the moment; the only problem is that we're not playing at the hilariously fast tempo that makes this piece worthwhile. Even more disappointing because one of the two recordings we were provided with by our director was selected exclusively for its tempo ("They barely hang on, it's remarkable.")

Debussy - Nuages and Fêtes from Nocturnes for Orchestra
The biggest disappointment on the program is that we are not playing the third movement, Sirèns, presumably because it requires 8 sporanos and 8 mezzo-sopranos. The irony in this is that this quarter we are being conducted by graduate conducting students of the choral director here. You would think that it would be easy enough for him to find some singers. The second movement is a bit worrisome at the moment, particularly the middle section which features the trumpets, who were still struggling with the part last I heard them (two weeks ago). But I don't have any doubts that they will have it ready by the performance, they are excellent players. I would have preferred to play Prélude à l'après-midi d'un faune but playing any Debussy is an exhilarating experience.

Schubert - Symphony no. 9 in C major - "The Great"
At 2000+ measures and 55 minutes in duration, performing this piece probably burns more calories than most people's daily workout routines. We have not actually played it start to finish yet. The final movement has some very awkward arpeggios in the string parts which some of us still need to work on. I am consistently impressed by Schubert, whose music is far more romantic than his contemporaries: a larger emphasis on melody, with hints of chromaticism in multiple places, and to top it all off, trombone parts that are actually significant. It should be a fantastic performance overall (we have been promised pizza), though it will likely be difficult for our audience, which struggled through Shostakovich's 5th, to sit through. But it's definitely a very rewarding piece to perform.


Today in Calc we had another substitute; apparently Rogawski doesn't like to come on Fridays. At least this time she was somewhat comprehensible, though I was unfortunately half asleep for the entire lecture and couldn't take advantage of this.

Tonight we paid $2 to see No Country for Old Men in Ackerman. Though a little too intense for my tastes, it was quite good. It also has the creepiest villain ever.

I have also discovered my new favorite question from Who Wants to be a Millionaire?:

Winter Break

One initial purpose of this blog was to prevent me from forgetting all the little things that I do that break the monotony of everyday life. I am displeased to announce that over winter break this blog has miserably failed to do this. So now in a bleak effort to remedy the situation I will write as much as I can about everything I can remember doing in the past few weeks.

On Friday, December 14 I attended my brother's orchestra concert. As always they gave an absurdly good performance for a middle school orchestra, though the experience was somewhat dampened by the middle school kids hiding in the back of the theater who think that it's okay to be loud during a performance.

Wednesday the 19 and Thursday the 20 were Northwood's winter concerts, which opened with a great example of Mr. Case's eloquent speech: "Hello, my name is Mr. Case!" (But we still love him.) The lower ensembles Wednesday night sounded better than I can remember them ever sounding prior, leaving me quite impressed. Thursday concluded with a suite of music from Home Alone which put me to sleep, though more likely the fault of the music than of the performers. The Philharmonic also played relatively well the second set of Malcolm Arnold's English Dances, which I am fond of. Other highlights of the evening were a gorgeous arrangement of O Come, O Come, Emmanuel by the Chamber Singers, and six movements of Vivaldi's Gloria by an alumni choir. But the most memorable segment of the evening was a wonderful performance of David Maslanka's Give Us This Day by the Wind Symphony, which unfortunately came first on the program. The concert series was fantastic overall and it is reassuring to see that the new instrumental directors are living up to the legacy of the first few.

Starting December 20 I was blessed with the task of caring for Claire's cat Shako while she was in Northern California. Being responsible for the sustenance of a living thing for an entire week and not seeing it even a single time is a bit odd. The only evidence I had of his subsistence was the gifts he left for me in the litter box.

Christmas Eve, which was held at our house for a much-appreciated change, lacked the extravagance of previous years. Only two of my relatives came to eat dinner with us. Dinner itself was a feast on Costco lasagna, a testament to the changing trends of modern life...

Christmas #1 was a triumph: I received a new camera, which is why the rest of this post will actually contain pictures. Other spoils include these lovely band scores (Not pictured is Samuel Hazo's Exultate). Though you probably cannot read it in this photo, a disturbingly hilarious disclaimer adorns the front of the Rhapsody in Blue score: "GERSHWIN is a Trade Mark of Gershwin Enterprises. GEORGE GERSHWIN is a Service Mark of Gershwin Enterprises. All Rights Reserved."

Christmas #2, which was at my Aunt's house, began with the horrors of the Electric Snowmen Holocaust. The rest consisted of sitting on a sofa for two people with three people, listening to my uncle talk about Japan, listening to my cousin talk about The Beast, and watching Nolan in his native habitat.

We then proceeded to my Grandma's for Christmas #3, which consisted mainly of taking pictures of people taking pictures and a dinner which was basically Thanksgiving #3. I also wound up with a hilarious abundance of Reese's Fastbreaks and Sun Chips:



My arteries thank me daily for having only scratched the surfaces of these.

On December 28 I went to Phillip's house. He had a giant cookie that said "Happy Birthday" except it wasn't anybody's birthday so we can assume that it was half price on the reject rack. The picture to the left shows the cookie's remains after Charles and I cut some fun shapes out of it. The main entertainment was Phillip and Cassandra sorting through his ridiculous mass of coins (yes, those are all quarters), which Austin and Charles did not consider to be entertainment and consequently left early. After this ardor our boredom was cured by our discovery that Phillip gets the Game Show Network here in Irvine. We saw a lovely commercial with a horrendously terrible CGI fox who was allegedly good for small business. Dinner was Round Table's new monstrosity, the Meat Ulti-Meat pizza, with a name so hilarious that we could not resist making Phillip burst out in laughter as he ordered.

On Saturday, December 29 Claire and I took the train and the LA Metro to see Wicked at the Pantages. I made the mistake of making eye contact with the hobo on the subway and he asked me for money. The theater of course was very nice and the sets and performance were amazing but it is definitely not my favorite musical. Afterwards we ate dinner at this place on Olvera Street whose name I still do not know.

I spent New Year's Eve with Claire; we watched Amélie, a wonderful film we watched in French last quarter, which I had given to Claire for Christmas. I ate this amazing See's Candy with butterscotch, and I demand more.

I think I have almost reached my limit in terms of how much I can rip out of myself at the moment. I am resisting all the cliché within me, urging me to write some grandiloquent ode to the new year, but I will relent enough to say this: as Claire said to me last night, it will never be 2007 again. But I have yet to decide whether this is a good thing or not. The timeless inner conflict: "Yes, I've had enough of this, let's move on" against "what I wouldn't give to do it all again."

Club Sandwich and Shostakovich

I was going to attend the UCLA Symphonic Band's concert at noon today but ended up just going to lunch instead. Normally I would be feeling guilty about this, but today De Neve had the most amazing club sandwiches on thick bread, which I ate two of along with the remains' of my friends'. Another exciting development in the world of UCLA dining is that desserts are now labeled; finally we know (at least vaguely) what we stuff into ourselves twice daily. Time will tell if this is a permanent change and whether or not it is exclusive to De Neve. Today there was a dessert called "Chinese Chew," which I found to be a misnomer because there was nothing Chinese nor chewy about it. However I have no idea what I would call it myself; apparently the dining hall staff don't either.

Last night was my first concert as part of UCLA Symphony. The program included:
Mozart - Overture to Don Giovanni
Rheinberger - Concerto for Organ no. 2 in G minor
Shostakovich - Symphony no. 5

It was probably one of the most enjoyable performances I have ever given, deeply reminiscent of my first concert with the NHS Philharmonic and Tchaikovsky's 4th symphony in Fall 2004. Something about Shostakovich's 5th is immensely moving to me. It doesn't quite connect with me on the same personal level that Tchaikovsky's music does - but what it does do is create sympathy, perhaps because it is so difficult to imagine a more perfect way to capture the suffering of millions at the hands of Stalin than with this symphony. I suppose Shostakovich is more difficult for the modern audience to understand than someone like Tchaikovsky, with over-the-top crowd-pleasing lyricism beginning to die out and modernism setting in. Plus there were a few bumps and bruises in our performance, namely at the end of the allegretto, where a missed clarinet entrance nearly resulted in a trainwreck. Despite this I believe we succeeded in conveying the proper atmosphere. The largo in particular is just absurdly tense throughout; and our director did such a fantastic job conducting it and drawing us into the music that it seems impossible that a single person in the audience could have not felt it.

11:11

Lucky lucky 11:11 post time because Michelle requested it!

My scores came yesterday! The only thing that irritates me is that the score to La Fiesta Mexicana is nontransposing :[ Who does that?