Blogging for LGBT Families Day

Just in the nick of time, I've learned that today, June 2, is the 2008 Blogging for LGBT Families Day. So here I go.

My family has evolved into a nice gay-straight alliance. My kids, both straight, have always been supportive, and dealt with their own coming-out issues beautifully. They had to come out as the children of a gay man, which wasn't always easy. But they did, and have stood up against homophobic remarks. My daughter has been relentless since she was in elementary school about insisting that any kid who used "gay" as a slur knew that he or she would face her wrath.

They also had to come out to me as straight, but I was accepting. We can't all have the gift. I only did a little of "are you sure?" and "have you tried going out with a guy [or girl]?" In all honesty, I would have preferred to have at least one of my kids be gay; I wanted to give someone the kind of accepting parenting I didn't get when I was young. Eventually a surrogate gay son, an exchange student, came into my life, and that's been something special.

My ex-wife was always more accepting of my same-sex attraction than I was, and our divorce was amicable and we remain great friends. Everyone thought we were crazy to get married, and we were--the marriage didn't last. I was pretty "out" before I met her, yet loved her so much, and loved the idea of a traditional family so much, that we thought we could make it work. Yet out of it came these two incredible kids, who are healthy, smart, talented, accomplished and very giving people. My ex-wife and I work extremely well as co-parents, live close to each other, and remain best friends. So maybe we did make it work after all, just a bit differently than expected.

My father used to be the most homophobic person I know, but at some point he totally flipped and became very accepting and even supports same-sex marriage. My mother found it hard to accept when I was in college and she found out I was gay, but she became accepting pretty quickly.

I'm a gay man, I'm a good father, and my kids are great. They are the best thing in my life. And I love that being gay is a non-issue with them, with my parents, and my extended family and friends.

The thing that's important in a family is love and support and commitment to each other. LGBT familes have that as much as any other, sometimes even more, because the commitments are made so consciously and so often in the face of social pressure.

Why I don't Have Much Personal Stuff on Facebook

Greencastle Summer Classical Music Series

The 2008 Greencastle Summer Classical Music Series begins this coming Wednesday. It's about as traditional a classical music series as you can get, so there's some irony that it's organized by someone (me) who is a fan of Greg Sandow, a believer in alternative and innovative concert presentation, improvisation, etc., etc. There's a warm and appreciative audience for classical music in Greencastle, and the culture of our small town is such that "classical" is a selling point, not something to call by another name, not something that needs to be transformed into a post-classical something else.

It started three years ago with six bi-weekly concerts as a way to keep me playing and practicing during the summer, and I played on most of the concerts. Now it's grown to fourteen concerts, from the week after DePauw's Commencement until the week before classes start, and while I play "support cello" on a number of them, only two or three really feature me in a significant way. When I started it, I didn't want it to be too much of an "Eric Edberg and friends" sort of thing. There's an aspect of that to it, of course, but hey, I am the one putting it on! This summer, so many colleagues and friends wanted to play it was hard to fit everyone in. The original plan was twelve concerts, so I added another two.

It helps that we're not trying to make any money. The performers get small honoraria; we all are just happy to have a place to play or sing. The administrative costs are zero; I donate my time organizing the concerts, and the church where we hold them provides some secretarial support. (The piano tuner usually makes more off the series than anyone else.) So we do just fine with donations from a few businesses in Greencastle and about 40 individual donors.

Audiences range from 40-120; there's a feeling of intimacy, and informality. OK, there's where I'm untraditional, I suppose. No black or white tie--usually no ties at all. And the performers talk to the audience about the music during the concert and with them after.

It's going to be fun.

206.5 and, once again, falling

206.5 on the scale this morning, my lowest yet. Six months of low(er)-carb eating has (have?) done a lot. I was 263.5 when I started keeping track, and my memory is that I was 270 at some point before that. 270 stuck in my mind because I misremembered it as the "seventh of a ton" that the narrator Archie Goodwin suggests is his boss's weight in the Nero Wolfe novels, which I read insatiably during middle and high school. I just checked and 285.7 is the actual number. Good thing it didn't take until I'd reached that point that to get my real attention. No way would I let myself stay as heavy as Nero Wolfe!

People I haven't seen for a while don't recognize me at first. I wear size-36 pants rather than 42. And my home blood sugar readings are in the normal range (the most powerful motivation through this all was diabetic-range blood sugar readings last fall).

My weight loss had slowed down a bit, and I was stalled for weeks bouncing around between 209 and 212. I had grown a bit lax about what I was eating. Allowing myself more carbs, I was having more-than-occasional rolls, and occasional sugary desserts, especially when eating out. And eating Dove "sugar-free" chocolates too frequently. They have a lot of malitol, which, I've learned, raise many people's blood sugar and insulin levels almost as much as sugar.

Sigh. They are delicious.

In the last couple of weeks, I got strict with myself again about sticking to vegetables, berries, and only small amounts of high-fiber bread as my carb sources, and the weight is coming back off. (And only one of those little Dove chocolates, very infrequently.) The 209 barrier has been broken.

A growing number of physicians are supporting low-carb approaches, and studies keep coming, too. I keep track of it all mostly through Jimmy Moore's amazing blog.

Final goal weight? I'm more interested in getting rid of the rest of the flab around my belly than how much I weigh. Now that school's out and the weather is improving (we had an unusually cool, damp, and gray spring), more walking and, OK, OK, strength conditioning.

David, Jonathan, and Allison in New York

While Tim Nelson's gay-themed production of Charpentier's 1688 David et Jonathas (which I would love to have seen) received mixed reviews in the Washington Post and today's New York Times, both Anne Midgette and Vivien Schweitzer praised the orchestra. Midgette called it "the strongest part of the show" and Schweitzer wrote, "the highlight of the evening was the strong performance by the Ignoti Dei Orchestra, led by Mr. Nelson, which did justice to the beauty of Charpentier’s enchanting score. It deserves to be heard more often."

My beloved ex-wife Allison Edberg, a fantastic Baroque violinist, is a member of the orchestra. You go, girl!

The Post also ran a feature article before the D.C performances. Pro-gay theologians and preachers often use the Jonathan and David story as an example of an at-least-probable gay love depicted in the Bible; others (mostly anti-gay) contest that. It's great that Nelson made this project happen. I'm a definite fan of affirming the reality of same-sex love.

Rufus Cappadocia

Wow.


Rufus Cappadocia - "Transformation" from Velour on Vimeo.

More Rufus on his site.

Rzewski on Improvising in Beethoven

This time of year is SO busy that I often forgo the Sunday New York Times, since there's not time to read it. But this week I did get it, to read the magazine article on young gay married couples in Massachusetts in the comfort of my own bed (perhaps because it would be nice to have a husband in there with me).

Had I not bought the paper, I likely would have skipped the story on pianist/composer Frederic Rzewski, and would have missed this wonderful portion of the article, which I'll comment on in another post. First question that comes to my mind is what his reaction would be if other pianists inserted cadenzas into his music?

No question, Mr. Rzewski likes to keep listeners guessing. When he plays other people’s music, he can raise hackles by improvising cadenzas in the middle of such untouchable masterworks as Beethoven’s “Hammerklavier” and “Appassionata” Sonatas.

“I do it because I think it’s authentic,” he said. “It’s what I think Beethoven would have done. A few years ago, after a concert at Bard College, a musicologist came up to me and told me very sternly that you could do that at parties but not at a concert. Usually people don’t hire you at all if they think you’re going to go in for such shenanigans.

“And maybe they’re right. My Japanese friend Yuji Takahashi, the pianist and composer, says: ‘It’s redundant. All the irrational stuff is already there, in Beethoven’s writing.’ I do whatever I think is right at the moment. One thing is for sure: You shouldn’t prepare it. Improvisations have to pop into your head then and there, or there’s no reason for them.”

Bouland's Vist with Scarlatti

Read it here. It's the occasional posts like this (and the one below from University Diaries) that make the time I spend slogging through eveything in my Google Reader worthwhile.

Suing Students

Margaret Soltan, at University Diaries, has posted an amusing forwarded Gawker account (with a few succinct comments of her own) of a (former?) Dartmouth instructor suing (or at least threatening to sue--it's all very confusing, as the instructor seems to be confused herself) both the college and former students for discrimination. The Gawker story points out:

The details of the discrimination and harassment? Students didn’t pay attention to her, complained about her to her boss, and accused her of not “accepting opinions contrary to her own” and said she would “lower the grades of students her disagreed with her.” In other words, the exact smarmy complaints all entitled college students level against inexperienced teachers.

University administrators live constantly with the fear of having to spend time and money defending the institution from lawsuits, many of them silly. I've leaned from my dad, one of those honest lawyers, that while genuinely ethical attorneys won't file unmerited lawsuits, there are plenty of opportunists who will. An upset client is easy to take advantage of; get her or him even more worked up, then start filing litigation. The client ends up with rapidly mounting legal bills. And there's always the hope that the university will just pay some money to make the whole thing go away. As far as I can tell, DePauw, my employer, will take everything to court. It's an institutional strategy that discourages frivolous litigation.

So I wonder if the issue here is more with the instructor or her lawyer(s), assuming that the case is indeed as sily as it appears from a quick scan of Margaret's post.

It's not just miffed instructors who get taken advantage of. I have a friend going through a difficult divorce. Her husband has an income close to $300,000 a year; it seems obvious to me, anyway, that his lawyer will do just about anything to run up his bill. The legal fees grow astronomically, yet have done nothing to better his position in the custody issues.

My ex-wife and I were lucky. Since neither of us had any money, there was non to waste on acting out the psychodrama of our relationship in court. We read up on our rights, sat down, decided what was fair and how we wanted to co-parent the kids, and had a lawyer draw up the papers.

I have to admit that sometimes I wish I could sue some of my cello students. Not for disagreeing with me; that's part of the fun of teaching. I'd like to sue some of them for not practicing! That's cello-teacher hell--giving lessons to kids who haven't practiced.

So much for retiring to Manhattan

My fantasy of one day being able to retire from DePauw, move to Manhattan (the real one, in New York), and attend concerts and theatre at night while visiting museums in the day is rapidly fading. $801,000 for a basement storage room?

Art-class models? Or a message to practice more?

I woke up a bit after 4:30 AM because the bed was shaking. "What the hell is the cat doing?" I asked myself. Then I realized the cat was outside. Were they blasting at the quarry south of town this early in the morning? Did something explode? Could it actually be an earthquake?" But this is Indiana. We don't get earthquakes.

I fell back to sleep. Around 7:00 AM I spoke to my daughter. "Did you feel the earthquake last night?" she asked. Turns out it really was an earthquake. How exciting. Centered in southern Illinois, the 5.4 rumble was felt as far as northern Indiana, Chicago, and even Wisconsin.

And here I was trying to blame the cat.

Someone will be trying to blame someone else, I'm sure. When I was doing doctoral studies at Florida State, we experienced a horrible summer drought. A letter to the Tallahassee paper expressed alarm, outrage, and certainty regarding the cause. The writer had just heard that there were nude models (gasp!) used in art classes at FSU. The drought was obviously God's punishment on the region for this shocking immorality. The legislature must take action at once!

Given the little-if-any damage that occurred from this morning's quake, it was obviously just a warning sign. What was the message?

Why, get up and practice, of course!

Practicing: The Cure for Everything?

[5/13/08 editing note: I corrected the spelling in the title; I'm sure "pracricing" (as I had mistyped) is great, but I don't know what it is!]

The supportive comments responding to my last post are much appreciated.

During the brief period I had the privilege of studying with Leonard Rose, I discovered that his advice regarding almost any challenge in life was more practice. When I transferred to Juilliard from the North Carolina School of the Arts, I experienced the big-fish-in-little-pond becomes little-fish-big-pond syndrome, and was depressed. "Practice like hell and get good," Mr. Rose told me. He had escaped "that hell hole of Miami" and got himself to the Curtis Institute that way. "And now," he explained, pointing out the obvious in his endearingly and amusingly (to his students) self-praising manner, "I am a very big fish."

And that seemed to be his answer for everything. Couldn't get a date? Practice, get good, and girls will want to go out with you (I didn't have the nerve to tell him it was guys I wanted to go out with). Not enough money? Practice like hell, get good, and you'll get hired for more gigs.

Fast forward thirty-plus years to my first session with my new therapist. After listening to my list of sandwich-generation care taking responsibilities, she asked what I was doing to take care of myself.

I was stumped.

Reminding me that at the start of a flight we are told to put our own air masks first, before assisting others, because passed out we'd be of no use to anyone, she assigned me homework, to come up with something to do for me.

So I decided to start practicing regularly. Including scales and bow exercises and vibrato exercises as well as music my students are working on and, of course, works I'm preparing to perform. It's required some discipline and boundary setting. And it has done wonders.

I went into music because I feel the most alive, the most myself, when I am playing. When I am playing well, I feel fundamentally good about myself, no matter whatever else is going on in my life.

It turns out Mr. Rose was right. Depressed? Practice like hell and get good. (Or better.) It works.

On not posting often . . .

I realize I have no current goal for this blog; at various times I've had various ambitions for it--build up a big readership with frequent posts, etc. For a while, it was heading in the direction of commentary on cello, musical, and political issues, with occasional personal vignettes.

But I just haven't had the energy for that. Since last summer, I've had bouts of depression and insomnia, some quite intense. Some diet-related (i.e., first way too much sugar, then once I went low-carb, perhaps too few carbs), some writers-block related, and some from being overwhelmed with responsibilities. And it's been difficult to get things accurately diagnosed and get really appropriate treatment/assistance.

There's paying for my son's college-which is actually a joy, but money has been tight. I have too much debt, because I bought some cellos with the intention of reselling them for a profit to help pay for the restoration of my 1790 Pallotta cello, but it turned out I'm not really that much of a salesman! So I have too many cellos now. And not much time or energy to try and sell them (and perhaps some internal blocks, too).

A top DePauw administrator comments frequently that a typical faculty member is expected to work about 50-70 hours a week during the academic year, including professional research or artistic projects, and countless meetings. While his comments are meant more as a description of what actually happens than as a prescription of what each of us "must" do, the workload, and the stress of worrying about challenges one's academic unit faces, really takes a toll. One colleague once said to me, "It's not the time so much,but all the worry."

And my parents moved to Greencastle in late September. We thought it would be great; but my dad has chronic congestive heart failure as well as problems with his blood pressure suddenly dropping (the treatments for which cancel each other out, so it's very tricky to manage), and my mom has some health and memory issues of her own. So while we all thought that they'd move here, start getting to know people in the community, connect with a church, etc., it's turned out that they are pretty much house bound. So I've been their main, and pretty much only, "psycho-social support system."

I love taking care of them, but at other times I resent it, because how do you work 50-70 hours a week and provide a social life and good energy to your aging parents in declining health? I am a care-taker type person; part of me wishes I had the financial resources to take a year or two off or just greatly reduce my teaching load. And at the same time I love teaching, and I love, more than anything, making music.

What's the point of this post? To vent a little, to explain a little to those who follow the blog and used to enjoy regular posts why I'm posting only rarely. And I know there are many other people in what's often called the "sandwich generation" who are finding it a challenge to manage caring for parents, maintaining a career, putting kids through college, and more-or-less failing at having much of a personal/romantic life!

Meanwhile, my weight is down to 209, so I have lost at least 55 pounds since I started keeping track last fall. Over 60, according to my doctor's records. Increasing the amount of carbs I eat to about 15/meal, 60 or more a day (from the 20-30 total I had been eating), seems to have helped my moods and ability to sleep, as has a new anti-depressant. (And yes, there's less libido, but I feel so much better overall that it doesn't bother me!) People are constantly complimenting me on how much better I look, and that's nice.

And today someone sent an email complementing me on how organized I am. I think I'll frame it, because I am chronically, even comically, disorganized in most areas of my life!

Live blogging my ASTA proposal

As if anyone would be interested:

8:59 PM Proposals for presentations at the 2009 American String Teachers Association annual conference are due tonight by 11:59 PM. That gives me three hours.

I had more than that. So far, I have taken my daughter to her dance class (instead of letting my son driver her), done grocery shopping, answered email, read other people's blogs, corrected the misspellings in my last post, renewed my ASTA membership so I'm officially a member when I submit the online proposal, and moved from the dining room table to the living room couch for more back support. I don't have cable, due to my channel-surfing addiction; I went cold turkey a few months ago. So I put on an old Hitchcok movie (Jamaica Inn) from a box set borrowed from my parents. But my son and a friend just came in, and with my blessing they've switched to Shoot 'Em Up, a bad-but-fun flick with Clive Owen (mmmm) and Paul Giamatti. But what the hell is Paul Giamatti doing in an action movie?

9:08 PM OK, now I've wasted time by blogging. What to propose? Should be something to do with improvisation. Now the last time I went to an ASTA conference, someone else did a presentation on basic Music for People techniques, so there may be competition for that.

9:10 PM "Fuck you, you fucking fuckers." Clive Owen just said that line into the camera. This movie really sucks.

9:11 PM Well, last time I went to an ASTA conference no one did anything on ornamentation or Baroque performance practice. (Of course, this was several years ago. Maybe everyone's doing it now.) But I have taught a course on improvisation in the history of Western art music, and I actually know something about Baroque ornamentation.

9:14 PM The other thing I'm into is using multiple looping pedals when improvising. That could be cool, too.

9:15 PM Clive had another line. "Fuck off." Brilliant writing! And now he's on his bus taking his shoe off.

"You know why a gun is better than a wife?" Paul Giamatti asks his flunky. "Because you can put a silencer on a gun."

I always thought Clive Owen wold make a great James Bond. Daniel Craig was great (and ultra hot), but I still would have picked Clive. Paul Giamatti just shot another woman. "Fuck me sideways." Wow.

9:18 Maybe the technology stuff would be useful. But also a pain in the ass to drag to Atlanta and around the convention location.

9:23 PM But I love playing with all those looping pedals and whatnot.

9:25 PM Clive Just shot Paul. Why would anyone run straight at a guy with a gun pointed at him? Oh, turns out Paul was wearing a bullet-proof vest. He's recovered enough to take a cell-phone call from his wife. (The one you can't put a silencer on.)

9:28 PM Need to come up with some titles. Argh. I don't feel like thinking or creating right now. Suppose that will be easier if I figure out what the presentation is.

9:33 I could do something on improvisation in the history of classical string playing. And the other thing that's really interesting to me right now is using improvisation to become more comfortable with one's instrument and to practice composed pieces.

9:36 Holding a baby, which for some reason Paul is after, Clive is in the process of shooting 20 or 30 bad guys to death. Bad line, certain to include the word "fuck" is sure to come once they are all dead.

9:38 Paul got the awful line. "We really suck, or is this guy really that good?" Geez, they both must have needed money. Or somehow thought this would be another Kill Bill.

9:42 PM Two hours and seventeen minutes to go.

9:44 PM Clive just killed a guy by sticking a carrot in his eye. He really should have been James Bond. I mean, if you can do that, you should be licensed to kill.

9:50 PM Bad guys find Clive making love to the beautiful woman. While staying, er, coupled, rolling around the floor, and eventually standing, Clive kills each of them while bringing the girl to, um, well, you know. Once the last guy is dead, Clive makes the Bondian quip, "talk about shooting your load."

9:55 PM Of course, I could propose the title I usually use, and have used for years when doing a guest improv workshop: "Expressing Yourself Through Sound: Improvisation for Everyone." But I am sort of sick of that title. Two hours and three minutes to go. (What's that Johnny Cash song?)

10:10 PM I'm not much further along. But the movie is getting Bondier, and just featured a skydiving chase.. My son says, "well, he didn't get to be James Bond so he made his own Bond movie." Giamatti does make a good Bond villain. If only he had better lines.

It occurs to me that maybe this live-blogging of my own writing process and a bad movie at the same time isn't such a good way to write a proposal after all.

11:53 PM Got the thing submitted, just in the nick of time. Actually six minutes to spare--pretty good. Who says I'm a procrastinator? "Improvisation as a Mode of Learning: Developing Instrumental Comfort, Musical Vocabulary, and Creatively Practicing Classical Music." Somewhat of an awkward title, but I think the abstract is pretty good and with all the improv workshops and classical experience I have under my belt, I think I have a good shot.

Speaking of shots, Clive, despite the fact that Paul had broken each of his fingers, still managed to kill the rest of the bad guys and shoot Paul through the chest. Earlier, he had shot the front-runner for the Democratic presidential nomination, who had set up a baby farm to grow candidates for a bone-marrow donor, which is why Paul was after the baby.

Wonder if he's seeing anyone?

What laptops are good for

One of our students made this interesting observation in her comment on my previous post: "But on the topic of [laptop] computers in classrooms, I find no problems with computers in an actual classroom setting- mainly because you can not pay attention just as well without a computer as you can with one."

Good point. I found many ways not to pay attention when I was in school, long before anyone ever imagined laptops and Iphones and text messaging.

In defense of laptops in the academy, I admit that mine helps me get through dysfunctional faculty meetings. College professors will argue, endlessly, about the most trivial of issues, going around in rhetorical circles. Someone disagrees with your position? Must be they didn't understand your argument, so make it again, at greater length, with more intensity. They still don't get it? Repeat ad infinitum until someone calls the question.

I find that by multitasking during our nearly three hours of music faculty meetings per week, I'm able to follow the conversation, participate when appropriate, get something done when some of my colleagues are in listening-to-themselves-talk mode, and remain calmer and less frustrated than I was in the pre-laptop era.

The Music of the Laptops

Clickety clack. Tap tap tap. Clickety clack. Taptaptaptaptap. Clackclackclackclackclack.

I looked around. What was that noise? Where was it coming from?

It was fairly dark in Kresge Auditorium. I had arrived at the University Band concert a bit late, pleasantly surprised that they were between pieces, so I had been able to slip right in, neither having to wait (impatiently, it would have been in my case) outside the door, nor being tempted to violate the classical-music tradition (and School of Music rule) that one enters a concert hall only between pieces.

I’d been delighted to discover that the next piece was Music for Winds, Piano, and Percussion by James Beckel, principal trombonist of the Indianapolis Symphony, a marvelous composer, and an adjunct faculty member here at DePauw.

The music started and so did the noise. What the hell was it? As my eyes adjusted to the dark I looked around and saw the culprit.

A young woman at her laptop.

DePauw requires every incoming student to purchase a laptop, loaded with University-selected software (some proprietary to DePauw). And we pride ourselves that the entire campus, even the concert halls and theatres, is wireless. The dorms, the lobbies, the bathrooms—I don’t think there’s any indoor space where one cannot connect to the Internet. And with so many wireless transmitters in so many buildings, many of the outdoor spaces are wireless-accessible as well.

So there she was, typing away. But how was she making so much noise doing it? Most keyboards, especially on the University-mandated laptops, are very quiet. But this was a very percussive sound.

She was sitting a the far left end of the row in front of me, and there was no one else to the left of me, so I quietly walked over (we were towards the back in a relatively unpopulated area), and quickly had my answer: four-inch nails, which curled forward. They were making the noise as they hit the keys.

I whispered to her, with my professorial and paternal authority-figure energies combined, “I’m sorry, but you are making too much noise. You need to stop typing or go outside.” The trick in this sort of situation, where you don’t have any official authority (or aren’t sure that you do) is to speak with total confidence. She gave me a look that combined surprise with who-the-hell-do-you-think-you-are attitude. I whispered, “thanks,” and walked back to my seat, hoping I hadn’t whispered so loudly that I had created more distraction that I had stopped. The young woman evidently decided that I might be whoever the hell I thought I was, and/or that I was right about the noise. After a bit of consideration, and a quick bit of typing (probably signing off to whomever she was exchanging instant messages with) she closed the lid of her laptop.

Beckel’s piece was wonderful, as was the rest of the program. But every once in a while thoughts of Margert Soltan, of University Diaries, and her frequent diatribes against laptops in the classroom, floated into my mind. I must write a blog entry, I decided, about the four-inch nails and the instant-messaging student. Here's to you, Margaret.

(Maybe the nails were only two inches.)

It's not not over until it's not not over

And while it's not over, it sure isn't not not over yet.

By which I mean that while so many political commentators are fussing over the role the Democratic "super delegates" will play this summer, it's far from a given that neither Obama or Clinton will have won a majority of delegates before the convention. With Maine, Obama has won four in a row and is gaining momentum.

I've been undecided between them for a while. Even though I was giving Obama money for quite a bit, I was leaning towards Hillary. She is smart, tough, knows how to work Congress, and knows how to play hardball politics (which is going to be very important in winning the election). But Clinton fatigue has set in already, and I find myself looking for someone who can inspire and unite the country. I don't think I'm the only undecided, formerly Hillary-leaning voter experiencing this evolution. I think things are swinging in the Obama direction and that his majorities will continue to increase. If I was a betting man, I'd put a good deal of money on the notion that Obama will win the nomination without needing the super delegates, despite the proportional nature of the Democratic primaries.

Fleisher Agonistes

I haven't seen Leon Fleisher in years, but I still love him the way a grateful student always loves an important teacher, and the way a grateful music-lover loves a favorite artist. When I studied at the Peabody Conservatory, I had several coachings with Fleisher when I played sonatas and other chamber music with his students; not only did I always learn a lot, but I also felt he was one of the few people who really recognized and acknowledged whatever my musical gift is, and was much more interested in affirming it--something I really needed--than trying to change me (or his own students) into some sort of surrogate for himself. (Which is how so many otherwise fine teachers destroy the individual musical personality of their students.) I also had the privilege to be the principal cellist of the Annapolis Symphony during the final few seasons in which Fleisher was its music director.

This recent Washington Post op-ed piece by him, which my colleague Scott Spiegelberg pointed out today, is another reason to love him.

219.5 and still falling . . .

I just got back a couple of days ago from a concert tour in China with the DePauw Chamber Singers "plus cello." It was an amazing experience, about which I'll write more and post some photos. Beijing, Wuhan, Hangzhou, Nanjing, and Shanghai. Absoultely incredible.

Before I get the photos downloaded, I'll mention that I was surprised to see that my previous post, "229.5 and falling" received more attention than I expected. Lovely comments from Terry and Emily (who is writing in amazing detail these days about holding the cello bow on her blog), a couple of emails, and a mention on Jimmy Moore's "Livin' la vida low-carb" blog, which I consider to be "the mother of all low-carb blogs."

And today I stepped on the scale and wow!--I'm down to 219.5. It was quite easy to eat a low-carb diet in China. Our meals were served family-style, at round tables with lazy Susans in the middle. I ate lots of meat and veggie dishes, and only small amounts of rice and noodles, sometimes none. And we did tons of walking during the tourist-adventure portions of the trip, so I got plenty of exercise.

229.5 and falling . . .

No refined sugar, no flour, very few starchy vegetables. Lots of "real food"--eggs, dairy, meat, fish, and fresh vegetables. Lots of walking (although my exercise commitment has not been as steadfast as my dietary one). My goal was to be down to 230 (from 263.5) by Christmas. 229.5 today, with 3 days to go! Final target, derived from the BMI charts, is between 170-180, so there are 50-60 pounds still to go. I'm a third or a bit more of the way there, so here's a pat on my back.

Jimmy Moore's low-carb blog, which if sometimes a bit hysterical in tone nevertheless constantly supplies encouragement and loads of excellent links, and Gary Taubes' increasingly influential book Good Calories, Bad Calories, have been major supports. As has been my (self-diagnosed) OCD streak.

Some folks on low-carb diets eat a lot of "low-carb" ice cream, muffins, sugar-free candy, etc. The sweet-tooth, sugar-high addiction was a big part of the problem for me--stress eating. So I just plain gave up dessert items (with an occasional planned exception, such as Thanksgiving Day and probably Christmas Day). I didn't want to do anything that might reinforce those old cravings, plus there is plenty of debate on the safety and efficacy (in terms of blood sugar reactions) of the sugar substitutes. I will say that the holiday season is a very difficult time in this regard, with so much temptation to resist. "No virtue without temptation," I read somewhere recently. Evidently!

What If You Gave a Non-Traditional Concert and No One Clapped Betwen Movements?

Gavin Borchert argues in a Seattle Weekly review that non-traditional concerts, with applause encouraged between movements, are not the innovation that will save classical music. He contrasts the experiences of two Chiara Quartet (website motto: "chamber music in any chamber!") concerts, two nights in a row: one in the traditional Meany Hall, one at a bar. Despite encouragement to do otherwise, the small audience at the Tractor Bar was quiet and reluctant to clap between movements, even when reminded by the quartet's cellist that they had permission to do so.

So what have we learned? Well, maybe people behave the way they do at concerts not because it's an artificial standard imposed by ironclad tradition but because the music sounds better that way. Maybe listeners feel classical music most deeply when they pay quiet attention to it. Maybe sometimes not clapping is OK, and we don't need to rush in and obliterate every silence. Maybe true innovations in concert presentation—new ways of getting music and music lovers together—will be concerned not with questions of formal vs. informal, loose vs. uptight, but with what setting best allows music to work its magic.

He makes some good points, and the article is well worth reading. Of course, generalizing from one or two experiments doesn't provide much predictive value. Despite having experimented with a concert in which the audience was encouraged to clap and dance whenever they wanted, I like quiet while I listen. Applause between movements? Well, with some works, such as Romantic symphonies, we know it was the standard practice of the time and expected and often encouraged by composers. So it feels extremely artificial to me to keep people from clapping after the rousing, bombastic finish of a first movement. But that doesn't mean I would prefer noise during the music.

One thing Borchert doesn't address is how many of the 40-50 people he says attended the Tractor Bar concert were people who don't otherwise attend classical concerts (which he couldn't know unless there was a poll taken). If most of the audience were Chiara quartet or general classical-music fans who are already part of the traditional audience concert culture, it's no surprise they behaved as we've been trained, regardless of the alternative environment.

The dilemma is this, it seems to me. The current audience of regular concert goers likes things the way they are. The question is what do we do to bring in new audiences who really are put off by the formality of the concert environment. Borchert is right that informality in and of itself is not the answer, and that quiet listening is a good way to experience classical music. "[T]he fidgetless focus of the thoroughly absorbed," he accurately calls it.

My intuition, and that's all it is at this point, since I'm unaware of any data on the subject, is that there nevertheless a very powerful long-term role that informal, interactive concerts can play in building a wider, or additional, audience. That doesn't mean we need to do away with traditional, formal, concerts with silent (especially during the music!) audiences. But neither should we dismiss alternate-format experimentation. "Chamber music in any chamber." I like that.