Category: Uncategorised

Bummed

I spent four hours today in the mandatory graduate pedagogy session. We learned not to humiliate students and that people have visible or invisible identities blah blah blah. Four hours. It ws a beautiful day outside. I could see it through the windows. Some people are planning on going to NYC tommorrow, but I wasn’t planning on going. But I probably should . . .
Because it seems like I’m the only dyke grad student in the entire damn school.
People here just aren’t very out. I saw somebody wearing a queer awareness day T shirt, but it was a boy. Het people sometimes want to tell me they’re ok with gay folks, so they tell me about a lesbian that they met at a confrence once. Great. this doesn’t help. But it’s better than the people who find out and then stop talking to me. Which has happened at parties here.

Conversations

God

Other Grad Student: (more or less out of the blue) But even if you don’t beleive in gravity, it still exists.
me: It’s a quantifiable phenomenon
OGS: even if you don’t believe in Jesus, He still rose from the dead.

Later, with same student

Other Other Grad Student From the Sticks: (after passing some people) It’s hard for me to get used to not saying “hi” to people.
me: Then just say hi. It’s a small town.
OGS: those weren’t the sort of people you say hi to.
OOGSFS: Why not?
OGS: Because they’re loitering by a tunnel that smells like urine.
me & OOGSFS: Maybe they want a private place to talk. Hanging out doesn’t mean they’re bad people and you shouldn’t say hi to them
OGS: I’m sure they’re lovely people. Let’s go say hi to them. Maybe we can have them over for dinner
Did I mention they were also people of color? Is it classism? Is it racism? Is it both? why didn’t I remind her that Jesus wants us to love everyone?

with friends like these

So let’s say I’m too confrontation-adverse to do anything but let it drop. Let’s say that as an isolated queer I’m ok, but if I write “dyke power” in chalk on a campus sidewalk, she purses her lips. Let’s say that I really have a massive friend shortage. Let’s say that the only evidence that I have that there are other lesbians over 22 in Middletown is that I found a Naiad Press book at the library sale today. Let’s say that I’m bummed.
Everytime I see an undergrad with blue hair or a mohawk, I have hair envy. But I’m a grad student. If I come across now as serious and studious, that will be the reputation that I have for the next two years. All the evaluations and grades I get will be colored by the image I present during the first six weeks to first semester I spend here. If I want to go on in academia (which I’m not at all sure about, but it is a possible career path), I’m not sure it would be best if all the perceptions of me were Punky Color Blue.

Famous Composer Anecdote

We had the first Colloqium last week. All the faculty introduced themselves. anthony Braxton gave a little speech wich I wish I had a transcription of. He talked about how these were interesting times and like the 1960’s and how he lived in the music house in the 1960s and people not in the music house need to get organized, not just in happy theory, but also in the physical plane. And it’s an exciting time because of all the things that people in the music house could do to get active. He’s looking forward to getting to know all of us better. He went on. I felt inspired. How can we, as musicians, get active to counter imperialism (and other isms…)?
I’m not sure that all the other grad students were equally inspired, but Angela was, which is good, because she lives in the music house, now known as India House.
So how do we get active now on the physical plane? that means, to me, not just talking about “peace through music” in a happy theory, but actually using music to create a utopian model or as propoganda to communicate the meme of peacefulness. something like Rock for Peace is an obvious answer. Also, one could write peace hymns, like Down by the Riverside, that large groups of people can sing in demonstrations. Activist marching bands, like the BLO, are another answer and one that works well with peace hymns. One could write a choral piece or an opera which featured a struggle against imperialsm (like Joan of Arc, for example). Or, as the latest rounds of state based violence have a definte influence of religious-based hatred (was in Anne Coulter who said that we should invade the entire Middle East and make them all convert to Christianity?), one could strive to create rituals replacing functions currently filled by religious institutuions. Secular funeral services and hymns. Secular naming (“christening”) ceremonies. Secular weddings. Secular regular meetings to build community, listen to speakers and sing hymns. the sorts of music one might write for these secular functions may also be good practice if one were later planning on writing an opera.
I have a plan. Now I just need friends and a community.
(Just cuz you believe in Jesus doesn’t mean that xtainity isn’t a death cult that venerates images of turture and torture implements.)

Sick as a dog

The dog has stopped eating. she’s sleeping all the time. but she’s really happy to see me when i come home. Do dogs get depressed? I’m worried that she might be sick.
Still no computer keyboard.
I tried assembling my front tire, but every time I would put it together, I would hear a hissing sound and then take it back apart and find another hole in it, each one smaller than the previous one which was hissing louder the time before. I think that innertubes ought to be retired (hahaha) after five patches. I’m glad that I have teflon tire thingees to keep this from reoccuring.
I played the gong today in Gamelan. That’s the big gong in the back. the english word “gong” comes from the name of that instrument. But it sounds more like BwoooooooOMmmmmmm. Really. I’m going to advanced gamelan tonight and then I will pick whetehr I’m a beginner or advanced.
I’m going to learn to play the Viol or some other fretted string instrument. I dunno how to spell it, but it’s pronounced “vile.” there’s going to be an early music ensemble. I’ll be a vile player in it. Hahahaha. sorry. The instrument is not yet built. since it’s fretted, a tuning has to be picked for it. Preferably, a tuning that’s contemporary with the music being played. No equal temperment. I’ve leant the prof in charge my copy of the Just Intonation Primer. Later I will indoctorinate her in the was of my Just Intionation Calculator. Muahahahahaha!

Second Day of Classes

Today, I learned that composers were considered part of the intelligensia in Russia and ought to be considered so today. I heard it from a professor, so it must be true. He also said “socialism” when he meant “totalitarian communism.” In brief, people are innovators and part of a tradition. They are individuals and members of a community. They have roots to an area and they travel. In the 19th century, folk music arose organically from peasent communities and wasn’t written by anyone. Music written by people was impure and folk music was pure, but music could become pure if enough peasents sang it and it became modified over time from it’s original form. So said Bartok.

Conversations

Weather

student: you think it’s cold out, don’t you?
me: yes
student: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Chores

I activated my ATM card, fixed my rear bike wheel, turned in my proof of measels vaccination, got answers on my tax paperwork (filing as “single.” damn the feds.), filled out all my outstanding paperwork aside from course registration and then went to the grad office to turn it all in. I swear I spent an hour in the grad office. I brought Xena with me. Xena is so cute! Xena can run in circles! Would I like a cookie? Would Xena like a cookie? Xena looks just like some other dog that would love to play with Xena! Xena! Xena! Xena!
Xena may get tied up outside next time I need to go to the grad office, although the running in circles did her good and I did get to eat some cookies.
I need to call the heating oil company and the DSL provider.

Fun things in the mail

I got a nifty package from Jean. It has her books of poetry, a peace flag and some postcards and stuff. I didn’t get a chance to examine it as lesiurely as I would have likd, as I was in the grad office. I’m looking forward to hanging the peace flag (my neighbor has a gigantic American flag) and to reading the poetry.

My computer keyboard has not come in the mail. I despair of ever seeing it again.
It’s cold here.

Weather

It’s winter here. It’s cold and raining. summer is over. One day: hot and humid. the next day: winter. How can people stand to live here?

First day of classes

Nervous.
homesick
bad dreams all night. i had this weird one where my mom was showing me christmas ornaments to communicate some family tradition. but they weren’t ornaments i’d ever seen before (i realized as i woke up). one of them was a red snowman.
Must go walk dog and eat lunch

Revised Schedule

Monday

9 – Noon: Mus 508, room MST 301 – Neely Bruce’s composition Seminar
(8 – 10 PM: Mus 452, World Music Hall – Javanese Gamelan–Advanced [Maybe])

Tuesday

(10:30 – 11:50: Mus 451, World Music Hall – Beginning Javanese Gamelan [ Maybe])
(12:10 – 2:30: Mus 222, room RHH 003 – Computers in Music [ Might Audit – but prolly not])
2:30 – 5:00: Mus 220, room RHH 003 – Composing, Performing, and Listening to Experimental Music [I’m the TA]

Wednesday

9 – Noon: Mus 510, room MST 301 – Graduate Proseminar in World Music Studies
4:15 – 5:45: Mus 530, room RHH 003 – Music Dept. Colloquium
(8 – 10 PM: Mus 452, World Music Hall – Javanese Gamelan–Advanced [Maybe])

Thursday

(10:30 – 11:50: Mus 451, World Music Hall – Beginning Javanese Gamelan [ Maybe])
(12:10 – 2:30: Mus 222, room RHH 003 – Computers in Music [ Might Audit – but prolly not])
2:30 – 5:00: Mus 220, room RHH 003 – Composing, Performing, and Listening to Experimental Music [I’m the TA]
(8 – 10 PM: Mus 452, World Music Hall Javanese Gamelan–Advanced [Maybe])

Friday

study study study

Schedule

Monday

9 – Noon: Mus 508, room MST 301 – Neely Bruce’s composition Seminar

Tuesday

10:30 – 11:50: Mus 451, World Music Hall – Beginning Javanese Gamelan
(12:10 – 2:30: Mus 222, room RHH 003 – Computers in Music [ Might Audit ])
2:30 – 5:00: Mus 220, room RHH 003 – Composing, Performing, and Listening to Experimental Music [I’m the TA]

Wednesday

9 – Noon: Mus 510, room MST 301 – Graduate Proseminar in World Music Studies

Thursday

10:30 – 11:50: Mus 451, World Music Hall – Beginning Javanese Gamelan
(12:10 – 2:30: Mus 222, room RHH 003 – Computers in Music [ Might Audit ])
2:30 – 5:00: Mus 220, room RHH 003 – Composing, Performing, and Listening to Experimental Music [I’m the TA]

Friday

study study study

I’ve always been a B student

But here, if you’re a B student, you flunk out. A grade of a B or lower triggers a meeting with the graduate student advisor. I’m trying not to think about this.
I have a housemate. His name is Aaron. He’s a composer and he plays punk rock drums. He’s also a nerd and writes a lot of MAX patches. His girlfriend is a food critic, so hopefully, he can cook. At the very least, he likes Compari. He’s been away from school for four or five years, so he’s as tweaked out by hordes of freshman as I am. Some of the straight-though people lack life experience in minor, but surprising ways.
My upstairs neighbor works swing shift, so I’m going to inquire about what times s/he sleeps or is away from home. It would be nice to have a punk band practicing in the living room.
My stuff arrived a few days ago. I’m somewhat unpacked. The house is filthy, so I have to scrub out cabinets (which seem to have grease stuck to them from the last several years) before I can put things in them. I got tired of this yesterday and made the mistake of starting to sponge off some of the blinds. Apparently, the blinds are supposed to be white, not brownish beige. I’m going to hose them off in the front yard. But everytime I look at the hood thingee over the stove, I feel really happy that it is no longer caked with gunk. I may end up focussing on this for the rest of the semester.
I’ve been oriented at least twice now. There may be another required orientation. I think I know what classes I ought to take. I have not yet taken a language exam, but I will be allowed to test in Esperanto. I managed to make a case that it was useful for international communication. I now feel like I ought to start using it to communicate internationally. Do any of you know any Ligoj de Verkistoj de Serioza Muziko?
So I have two course numbers for academic courses I should take. Someday soon, I may go look up the names of these courses and find out what they’re about. I’ll also be taking beginning gamelan. This seems to be adequate. Ron will be returning shortly and can tell me if I’m screwing up. Ron is the guy that I’m TAing for and seems to be my advisor. I’m supossed to write a mess of music too, but I dunno if this is part of my two courses, since I don’t know about them yet. I guess I could look them up. Music 510 is Graduate Proseminar in World Music Studies, which doesn’t seem to be about anything. And Music 508 is Graduate Seminar in Composition,
which seems to be a composition class. Okie dokie. And Beginning Gamelan.
All this orienting is making me nervous. at least, since there’s no graduate tution, I’m not being assessed late fees. but I could go for some mellon balls. Please mail me a sofa. (Unless the mailing of a sofa would somehow affect my finances, in which case, please don’t mail me a sofa.)

Gone Daddy, Gone, My Love is Gone Away

So what’s new? The phone number, for starters: 1-860-301-2508. And the local bank account is new. and . . .
The president of the grad student government had a party for all the new grad students. Christi, Xena and I went. There were oreos and fruit salad and water balloons, but since nobody knew anyone, they were tossed very politely from person to person. I became acquainted with two ethnomusicology (aka: musical anthropology) MFAs. Deborah plays the hammer dulcimer. She’s well-traveled and lived in Egypt for a while among the Coptics and studied Arabic music while she was there. She had a book coming out shortly of Arabic music adapted for hammer dulcimer. She is tri-lingual. Angela plays clarinet. She already has an MFA in clarinet performance and won an award for being the best performer of the Artie Shaw Clarinet Concerto. She went to “klez camp” to study Klezmer performance and her own Klezmer band has toured the east coast. She speaks German and Russian and is learning Yiddish.
I’m in way over my head, here, I think.
Saturday, the four of us (Deborah, Angela, Christi and I) drove the bug to Concord, Mass. This is where Concord grapes came from. Angela wanted to go to Walden Pond. First, we went to the cemetery and located the graves of Louisa May Alcott, Emerson, Thoreau, and another writer who – I’m ashamed to admit- I can’t recall the name of, but who is also high prestige. Anyway, Then we went by the home of Louisa May Allcott, where she lived when she wrote Little Women and the home of Emerson. Walden pond is actually a very short jaunt from Emerson�s house. Thoreau wrote that if you preach a better sermon or build a better mousetrap the world will beat a path to your door. This is especially true if your door is conviently located. We did not actually see Walden Pond. Because more than 600K visitors come every year, Mass has made it a state reservation and outlawed all dogs. There was a long list of prohibited items and, alas, Xena was on it. Apparently, many years ago, E.B. White wrote that the touristy Walden Pond sucked. While I can’t say if it does or doesn’t, I can say that I savored the irony of a state official telling me I couldn’t take my dog there.
Since we couldn’t get to Walden Pond, we went further down the road to Salem. We went to the Witch Museum there and perused the semi-informative exhibits. Actually, there were pretty uninformative, but the staff let us in free, so I can’t complain too much. And the gift shop was highly amusing. We walked around the town and saw a very spooky looking statue of the first colonial resident. Spoooooky! Spooooky! Pagan stores were everywhere. One could buy tarot cards, have her palm read, visit the “Official Witch of Salem,” who we saw, but did not visit. It was late so all the pagan shops were closed or closing. I peeked in the windows looking for Polly’s CDs, but didn’t see any in the gloom. We walked to the House of Seven Gables, which is another literary sight, but not one that I know the story about.
On Sunday (our world is soooo exciting), Angela, Christi and I went to New York City and left Xena at home with Deborah. We went to the hippest record story in the whole city (according to Bernard), called Other Music. It was very hip, but very small. Then we went to Strand Books, which calls itself the world’s biggest used bookstore. It should perhaps be reclassified as the world’s most disorganized bookstore. You�d think that if I looked in the photography section of the world’s biggest used bookstore, I ought to be able to find a book by Judy Dater. Well, maybe they had one and maybe they didn’t. The store could have been the very institution that inspired Dewey. They had a big shelf of music books, but my bank balance was safe because they were completely disorganized. Opera was intermingled with pop and jazz. Biographies lurked next to theory. Christi pulled out a book about thirteenth century French motets. French motets from the time of Joan of Arc! But it turned out to be about texts and not musical at all. It didn’t even belong in the section. Powells Books is bigger, has more titles and you can actually find what you’re looking for.
People kept telling me about east coast / west coast differences and told me that I’m very mellow by East Coast standards. Everything out here takes a long time. It took two hours to get my new cell phone number. Everything is super-slow. Finding anything at that bookstore would have taken days because of its disorganization. I find myself often frustrated, wishing things would hurry up. I’m trying to become mellower. So if East Coasters are in a hurry all the time, maybe it’s because everything will take at least twice as long as it ought to. I feel frustrated just thinking about it.
What we did find at Strand was a children’s book by Lynne Cheney, wife of Dick Cheney. As far as I can tell, the book is not a joke. It�s the American ABCs. ‘D’ is not for Democracy. ‘E’ is not for Elections. I didn’t memorize the text or buy it, so the highlights here are from memory. ‘E’ is for Equality. But E gets less than one full page, because ‘F’ for flag spills over on to its neighbor. ‘G’ is for God in whom we trust and whom doesn�t have to share a page with anyone since G gets two pages. ‘H’ is for heroes, who include fire fighters, police, the American military (but not anyone else’s) and elected officials. Another letter has role models. The two non-white historical figures were African American. There was a woman tennis player and Louis Armstrong, a musician. The whites (who may have all been men) were inventors, statesmen, industrialists, etc. ‘X’ doesn�t have anything. Neither does ‘Z’. ‘Y’ is for You, which included illustrations of mostly white kids that had future occupations written under them. One of them was future agribusiness CEO. The whole thing had a very rough quality, as if it was hastily scribbled on a cocktail napkin and then turned over from that to an illustrator. (‘P’ is for Patriotism!) It is unsubtle. It is an anachronism. It is alarming. It does not appear to be a joke.
After looking aghast at Cheney’s book, we escaped the frustrating bookstore and rode the subway. The subway is a lot more like the London Underground than it is like BART or even MUNI. It�s amazing. We went to Central Park and saw the spot there Lennon was shot and where Yoko Ono still lives, according to Angela. We walked across to Strawberry fields. There is a big mosaic on the ground that says “Imagine.” It has flowers on it. We ate ice cream bars and then got back on the subway and walked back to where we had parked. It�s a neighborhood that is really a whole lot like the Mission, but instead of Mexican flags, there are Puerto Rican ones. We dropped Christi off at the JFK airport. I am very sad.
It took more than 4 hours to get back to my empty house
Today was grad student orientation. The recurring theme was that if one has a problem, she should call the grad student office, since the people working there know all. That look a decidedly Orwellian turn during the public safety presentation when the grad official explained that they would be called if we had any noise complaints and that we would be talked to. “We know everything that goes on.” one of the women explained. Great. You could feel resentment emanating from the assembled masters and PhD people.
My stuff is supposed to arrive tomorrow. Classes start Tuesday.
Calendar