Changes [1] - Provocation and Revelation

I've been waffling about what to write in this post. There are so many things I want to talk about, but I've been trying to avoid having it all rush out in one big projectile of incoherent, stinking blog-vomit. So much has changed in the last three months; it's hard for me to parse, even now. I suppose that, just like the last time the proverbial shit hit the equally proverbial fan, I'll start with the facts and elaborate over as many posts as necessary. Otherwise...I'll never start. No wonder so many academic papers begin the same way!

Anyway.

Fact #1: The composition faculty, at a big important end-of-semester meeting that I didn't know existed until the day before it happened, told me that my first year composition project needed revisions. Okay, fine. No big deal, was expected. They dictated to me what changes were to be made, and some of them fundamentally altered the piece. They also demanded that I drop everything (job, work left for other professors from the Spring, home responsibilities, etc.) and do the revisions immediately. That is a big deal.

Fact #2: Going to Atlantic Center for the Arts was a life changing experience.

Fact #3: I have finally decided for certain that I will be seeding applications to other universities this fall. The programs I apply to will be MFAs and perhaps Ph.Ds in interdisciplinary arts, not music.

So. Obviously there's a lot going through my head right now. I've been thinking about leaving this university almost since I got here. I've known since the beginning that I don't really fit here, either artistically or socially, but I've been trying to make it work anyway. Great funding, health insurance, a prestigious school seal on my degree, all very nice things...but I've realized that the degree itself matters less to me than the process I go through to get it. If I'm miserable during my entire time at this school, the quality of my work will suffer, and the degree won't be worth a damn because I won't have a good portfolio of music, art, and writing to back it up. Assuming I even got to the degree-acquiring part, considering how incompatible my ideas are with those of the department. I accomplished so little this academic year that I feel quite embarrassed, and after the experiences I've had this summer and the work I've produced, I know that it's not my brain, it's the environment. I was very relieved to discover this. I thought I was broken. So, with renewed confidence in myself, I looked back on my time at this university and realized...wow, this place really blows. And not in the entertaining, orgasmic way.

To be continued.

x-posted from phdead.net, please post all comments there.

Can I Write My Paper About Space Monkeys?

Some very hard-working people have inspired me to stop feeling sorry for myself and just get to work. When I talk to my grad student friends I know from other departments, they sound like I did in undergrad. They talk about how swamped with work they are, how much effort they're putting in, but in the end everything gets done and it's all good work. Right now, they're all going nuts with the end of the semester looming, frantically researching their final papers and climbing toward that staggering page count. I've been having the opposite problem since I got here; since I've been so unhappy with everything they're forcing me to do here that it's killed my motivation. They work so hard, but I just don't care anymore. Without motivation, and without a topic to care about, I find myself freaking out at the last minute trying to churn out some bullshit, and it ends up being subpar work that I'm not proud of. I used to enjoy (as much as anyone can enjoy) writing academic papers for two reasons: I liked the research phase of collecting tons of books and learning a bunch of new stuff, and I liked the "job well done" feeling that came with writing a paper and knowing I did the best I could. I liked being able to go back, read a paper, and be proud of the conclusions I had drawn. Now, I feel like I can't make myself work, no matter what I do.

Well, I'm just going to try harder now. I have two final papers coming up. One of them I know I can enjoy writing, because I have three topics in mind that I can get into. That paper, of course, is for my English class. If not for that class, I might have gone crazy and left by now. Of course, it only has to be 10 pages. Figures that the one I care about is the short one. My other paper has to be 20-40 pages, and it's going to be really hard to find a topic that I give a damn about that will actually fit the class. For the most part, I've found the music we're studying to be pretty painful to listen to. The thought of listening to it enough times to write a 20+ page analysis of it makes me sad inside. I have a meeting today with that professor to brainstorm paper topics, and he's the only professor I've felt comfortable talking to about my give-a-shit issues, so he seems on board for helping me find a topic I care about. I hope we can come up with something without me having to tell him that I hate the music he's devoted his life to studying. I really want to do a good job with this paper, if for no other reason than to prove to myself that I still have the ability to work hard. If I find a topic I can really get into, then I'd love to use this paper for the big paper I have to turn in at the end of year two to prove that I can write like an academic. That paper is apparently a really big deal, so most people try to write it as part of a class so it goes through lots of editing. If nothing else, that idea serves as some extra motivation. Less work further down the road? Yes, please. In fact, it's time for that meeting right now. Here's hoping it's not painful.

Proverbial Shit, Meet Fan (Part 2)

((Continued from previous entry))

After re-reading the e-mail in which my independent study bid was rejected, I've realized some things.

What irritates me most is that he rejected my independent study request because he thinks I need to do more writing. He said: "There's a serious writing component to the program, & for most people it's the most difficult component. So if you have a chance to work on writing in the context of some academic class, that's helpful. At the end of next year, you'll have to submit an academic paper, typically incl. fairly rigorous analysis, some 'big ideas', a 'clear thesis', and so on. We tend to be pretty demanding about the quality of that paper. It's a big plus for you if you've already basically *written* the paper in some other class."

Now, this makes me very angry for several reasons. (1) I suggested that the independent study have a writing component. (2) Last semester I wrote a paper on my own, not as part of a class, submitted it to a conference, and had it accepted. I had no support from the faculty on this whatsoever. (3) That paper was actually the SECOND academic paper I had written and presented at a professional conference. No other student in my department has done that. Add to that the fact that I'm 8-10 years younger than the average student in the program. I'm not saying my writing is perfect or that I have nothing to learn, not at all. What I am saying, though, is that I don't need an analysis-based class to force me to write. All those classes do is make me churn out bad papers on topics I don't care about. I can do research and write papers on my own about topics that actually interest me, and if I have a faculty advisor who actually cares and is involved then I bet the paper would be even better.

I haven't given up the fight, but I'm just too worn out to pursue it further right now. I'm going to present the above points to him and see if he'll reconsider, but I'm not all that hopeful. I'm more concerned with getting through the semester with my sanity and health intact at this point. I've been sick three times in the past four weeks. I haven't been that bad off since my sophomore year of undergrad, the same year I had a nasty struggle with depression. I've felt myself slipping back to that time, and this recent bout of illnesses has really brought it home how close I am to being back at that point of my life, a place I never though I'd be ever again. Mr. Dead has been quite worried, as he was there for it last time, and has convinced me that I need to schedule a meeting with the composition professors to try and set things right. If it looks like things can't work out for me here, he's made me promise that I'll look for other programs to transfer to.

It scares the crap out of me, because I don't want to have wasted this entire year of work. We're also just getting to the point where we're making friends and having fun here, and now we're talking about leaving. Of course, my biggest fear is that if I leave here, I won't be accepted to any other programs, and then what will I do with my life? Ultimately, though, if I'm miserable here, is it worth it to stay? Even if they offer to change things, will I be happy if I stay, or have I already become too bitter towards them?

Maybe I'll build us a hobbit hole and become a reclusive artist who lives off the land and bites anyone who comes near. That sounds way better than getting some fancy piece of paper.

Proverbial Shit, Meet Fan (Part 1)

There's a lot going on right now, and I don't really know how to start writing about it all. I guess we'll start with some basic facts.

Fact One: My plea for an independent study got rejected.
Fact Two: My health, both physical and mental, has seriously declined over the month of March.
Fact Three: I'm going out of my mind because I hate this department so much.
Fact Four: Mr. Dead has finally convinced me that I need to look in earnest for a different program.

Fact One brings up some major problems, and has been at least partly responsible for Facts Two through Four. As I've complained about before, 4 out of 4 seminars thus far have been analysis-based; I feel like we've gone over method of analysis derived by someone with a typewriter and a need to pad their tenure portfolio. Add the fact that most of this analysis has centered around music I don't even enjoy listening to, and you have one big ball of unhappy, repressed Megan. Most of my classes might have been fine, perhaps even really interesting, had they existed on their own in a mix of different types of classes. I'm in a creative field. Ultimately, this is a music composition Ph.D program. I'm supposed to be making my own art and learning how to write about it, but in reality I've done almost nothing of either one. When they were trying to recruit me here, they told me that I could take my art in whatever direction I wanted. Sure, I can do whatever I want...on my own time, with no support or interest from them. In the meantime, I need to write this type of composition, compose for this ensemble, and analyze these pieces.

I really thought coming to grad school was going to mean more freedom. I thought I would be using this time to develop my own thoughts and opinions, to hone my artistic skills, to find the path that most suits me. The only progress I've made in those areas was done completely on my own, no thanks to them. This place is trying to box me in, instead of help me grow. What's infuriating is that the director of the program keeps insisting that they don't do that, that they're totally open. Maybe that's true at the dissertation level, but I have to survive three years of this bullshit before I get there, and I'm not sure I'm willing to put up with it.

I'll elaborate on the above listed facts as soon as I untangle everything going on in my head. Influx of nasty, pissed off posts, coming right up. To be continued.

This Nutshell is Cramped.

Artist statements suck. Sitting in front of a computer trying to make a short and generic statement about my art and technique sounds like an exercise in eye gouging and facepalming to me.

Unfortunately, my recent residency applications have turned what was formerly a mere observation into a first-hand account. Lucky for me, when my task was complete, my eyes remained intact. Ultimately, it was probably good for me to try and get a handle on my body of work, but I'm not big into defining things that don't need to be defined. It's part of what makes me a bad academic.

Anyway, here's what I came up with. Hopefully it doesn't make you want to gouge eyes, too.

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"I believe that the concert hall is far too limiting to contain all musical expression. In my work, I attempt to present music in as many forms as possible by invading the art gallery, the theater, the internet, and most especially the streets and alleys of the city. An evening concert is a wonderful experience, but reaches only a small fraction of the population. I seek to bring the sounds of 21st century music to a variety of audiences in any location I can get to.

Moving outside traditional music venues often means fusing sound with other creative disciplines. Much of my work is inspired by literature, visual arts, and theater. Many pieces begin with the question, “How can I combine music with that?” and end with a hybrid work created in partnership with another artist. Unique spaces, both virtual and physical, also intrigue me and often lead to site-specific performances and installations.

Technology is an essential element of my work and is used both in enabling the presentation of sound in odd locations and in bending sound into new roles. I work with a variety of hardware and software in creating my pieces, and especially enjoy blending traditional acoustic instruments with new technology. I firmly believe in the laptop as a performance instrument, and consider it my most important tool in creating music."

Be More Punk Rock, Old Man!

I'm a little terrified by the paper I'm writing, for a lot of reasons totally unrelated to the fact that it isn't even close to done yet. It's actually the point that I'm making and the people I'm making it to that make me feel panicky. 

How do you tell a bunch of old guys that they've become stagnant in a field where progress is law, tradition is sin, and innovation is the only path to success? Using an old musical gimmick is like a socialite wearing the same dress to two parties. These men, at some point, all began going to the same tailor, requesting the same cuts and colors, and eventually ALL ended up wearing the same dress.

Okay, so the metaphor has gone too far. This isn't about men in dresses, this is about music, damnit. But you see my point.

Part of the point of my paper is that the field of electronic music started out with the avant garde, the rock-n-roll sensibility of doing the weird shit, knowing it's awesome and edgy, and having that devil-may-care attitude about the opinions of others, rebelling against the status quo. Where did that go? How did we end up sitting in darkened concert halls, staring at the little blue lights on the stage monitors and listening to the same "swoosh, floop, pop!" sounds from every piece? Other fields of art have managed to blend their newfound academic credibility with the above-mentioned qualities. Electronic music, on the other hand, just rolled over, said "Oh, we're legit now!", and promptly began going to bed early, listening to music more quietly, and hanging out with people who wear ties. 

To be fair, not everyone in the field is like this. But those who aren't, those who still try to capture the excitement of tinkering with things we shouldn't and writing whatever music they feel like writing, they are shunned. They're considered immature, unrefined, not academically suitable. There will be no university jobs for them unless they're willing to squeeze into the mold and keep their dirty habits as quiet weekend activities in the privacy of their garages. 

I'm trying not to fall into the same trap, I really am, but this school is trying desperately to force me down. I'm thinking the solution might be to get weirder, to stay up late, to be louder, and to wear my tie around my head. If they want to keep me from getting my degree because of it, so be it. You can't stop the signal.

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For an humorous, self-disparaging account of the concepts discussed in this entry, check out Mark Applebaum's piece entitled Pre-Composition, which you can listen to on DRAM. 

Procrastination Leads to Caffeination

This was previously posted in a more private blog on December 17th, 2008. I give you this, because the topic has come back to bite me in the ass...again:

"A note to all of my friends either currently in academia or heading that way in the future:

Never submit an abstract and bibliography to a conference assuming that the work is so bad that they would never, ever accept it. They will do so just to spite you.

Fuckfuckfuck.

So, as you probably have gathered, I've done just this. I submitted an abstract and complete bibliography to the SPARK Festival of Electronic Music and Art back in October. I was working on finishing up the research portion and planned to start writing the paper within the next few weeks. The call for works went out about a week before the deadline they set, so there was certainly no way to actually write the paper in that amount of time. Besides, they were only asking for an abstract and sources, so I figured all would be cool. I'd be done with the paper by the time they sent out notifications. So, I shat out the abstract and threw together the bibliography before the idea for the paper was even fully formed. I knew it was bad. It was certainly the worst 150 words I had ever written and didn't make my concept sound appealing at all. I submitted it anyway, feeling somewhat obligated since I presented at that festival last year and I wanted to stay active and keep my name in their heads. I also kind of hoped it would magically get in, since it would mean staying with my best friend for a week. As soon as I clicked submit, I resigned myself to the fact that it would never be accepted because it was so bad. I started to feel embarrassed that I had put such terrible work out there for others to see. 

So, I promptly forgot about it. Before long, the semester got so busy that I had no time for independent research, only for grading and writing papers for courses. The notification deadline for the conference came and went. I assumed the fact that I didn't hear anything at all meant they hadn't accepted the paper. That's the way it usually goes. I was somewhat relieved. 

It turns out they were just letting me finish up my semester and relax for a few days. Two days ago I received an e-mail saying "Congratulations! Come present your paper in February!" 

FUCK. Yay? FUCK.

They haven't sent out the e-mail asking for camera-ready papers yet, but it's only a matter of days. I figure, hey, it's the holiday season. I can probably stall for a few days, saying I'm out of town (which I am) and that the paper is on my hard drive at home (which it's not) and I assumed I had not been accepted because it was 15 days past the notification date (which I did). This should work; I know the guy who organizes the conference, and he's a hell of a nice guy. In the meantime, though, I'm working frantically to write a properly academic-y paper with only partially-done research. At least my abstract is done!  D:

I'm so boned."

After writing this original post, I proceeded to do additional research and flesh out my idea a bit more, but never actually write the damned paper. The holidays came and went; no call for papers. I began to think, hey, last two years they never actually published the papers in the conference book. Maybe they aren't going to do it this year either, so they aren't bothering to ask for them. I put it off even longer, thinking maybe I would get lucky and end up presenting on a paper I never actually had to write. New Years came, then the beginning of the semester. No word. A few days ago, an e-mail finally came asking for biographies, headshots, etc. for the conference book. No mention of camera-ready papers. Could I really be so lucky?

No. Of course not. I went to the submission page for the bios and pictures, and found a spot for an abstract, and an upload area for full papers. This festival is notorious for being terribly unorganized, but I've never minded before now. Thanks for the notice, guys! They want it today. I feel confident that I can stall for a few days since they never actually publish the papers. "But but, you never gave us a formatting template for the paper! How am I supposed to know how you want the paper to look?" Not a big deal. What is a big deal is that I have several hundred pages to read for class this week and in-laws visiting today, and somehow I'm supposed to write this paper in the meantime. ARG. Why do I do these things to myself? 

If you're looking for me, I'll be the over-caffeinated one shaking in the corner and babbling about the cyberpunk aesthetic.

First Day Back Blues? Or Purples?

New semester, new posting season for Ph.Dead. 

No, I did not actually die at the end of last semester. It was a particularly unrestful winter break, however, due to excessive traveling and excessive our-apartment-is-falling-apart-but-they-won't-let-us-move raging. Now, the fateful day has arrived: the first day of classes. Time to brace myself and charge headfirst into chaos. 

So, what does the new semester hold for me? Well, hopefully it will mean increased motivation above all. I'm taking some classes that I'm terribly excited about, and the class I'm teaching this semester is not only NOT at 9 AM, it is also NOT a non-major class, NOT a 100-level class, and NOT 120 students large. Instead, it starts at a very reasonable 11:00 AM, contains all music and computer science majors, is a 300-level class, and is capped at 30 students with 10 students per lab session. The lab is what I'll be teaching, and the course material is right up my alley. Intro to Music and Computers, AKA Intro to What I'll Supposedly Be Doing for the Rest of My Life. I'm actually looking forward to this, and it'll mean I get to brush up on lots of material I should know like the back of my hand anyway. 

The professor I'm TA-ing for this semester is a visiting lecturer from Berklee, and I have to admit that I was nervous at first. All the professors around here are so snobby and anti-idealist, I was starting to fear that all computer music professors at the graduate level would be the same way. Not so. Within the first few minutes, we were pretty comfortably chatting, he was asking me for book recommendations for the class, and we jointly expressed our frustration over the crappiness of this school and the disorganized nature of the program. I thought it was just me that got kicked into the middle of everything and told to just "figure it out"; well, turns out they extend that same courtesy to faculty members. This guy has restored my hope that maybe you CAN stick with this field and not let academia turn you into a jaded, pretentious asshole. Ah, the light at the end of the tunnel. Fortunately, I also have this same guy for my composition lessons this semester, so I'm looking forward to working with him in that respect as well. 

One thing that I think will help keep my sanity as well is that my schedule is much more cohesive than it was last semester. Most of my classes occur in the 11:00-2:00 range, with a few exceptions, which makes sharing the car with the husband-unit much easier. Less evening classes also means I might be able to keep up a light raiding schedule for World of Warcraft this semester. Yes, I know, not exactly top priority, but it's one of those small bits of social interaction that I value very much. I'm also auditioning for the choir at our local Unitarian Universalist church ((What? Me in a church?! I know, crazy. But it's all non-religious and relaxed and fun!)), so that will hopefully be another fun and social activity. I'm trying not to get my hopes up too high, but overall, life seems on track for a much healthier and happier semester.

I'm going to kill whoever has been making that annoying beeping noise for the past TEN MINUTES in the next cubicle. 

Healthier, happier semester.

There's about to be blood. 

Beep....beep....

Grading: The Finale

((This is a continuation of Monday's post, "No Cowboy Boots at the Symphony".))

Grading concert reports, part trois. Some of these are so damned funny, it is my obligation as a human being to share them. 

-- "I was looking extremely dapper with a sexy collared shirt and some nice trousers, while my roommate was looking a little grungy."

-- "We were sitting so close that my roommate was able to identify a hickey on the neck of one of the violinists, later we realized it was just a mark from the chin strap of his instrument."

-- "Strauss's Horn Concerto No. 1 in E flat major, Op. 11 was more impressive. The beat was catchier, and at times, surprisingly hip."

-- "I was even honored when a drop from his spit-valve so eloquently splattered off the stage and landed on my left shoe." ((same guy as above, referring to the horn soloist))

-- "Although, I never fell asleep in the concert, I did solve my problem of restless nights by downloading a Strauss song to play everynight." ((This guy said Death and Transfiguration put him to sleep...I really wonder which song he downloaded, considering Strauss is known for his loud, flashy brass fanfares! >D Bwahaha...))

-- "The conductor raised her conducting twig and the symphony began."

-- "It was interesting to see how with a tiny stick the conductor orchestrated each and every instrument within the orchestra like she was a quarterback." ((This amuses me because it's an example of how my football player students like to relate EVERYTHING back to their sport. Not a bad thing, just a bit funny! This same guy also produces hip hop music himself, which I think is really cool!))

But more important than all the humorous quotes in the world, one girl said this about Mahler's "Adagietto":

-- "I found myself covered in goosebumps and my eyes slightly wetted with tears from the peaceful effect of the notes and the perfect tune and harmony of the instruments playing together."

That's what it's all for.

Catharsis Through Clarinet

Grading concert reports, part deux. Of course, I have more hilarious student quotes to share, but now isn't the time for that. This assignment of theirs is actually making me realize some pretty important things. 

For the past 10 years, since I first picked up a clarinet in the 7th grade, I have always been a member of a large ensemble of some sort, usually a symphonic band. Ten years of intense ensemble work, everything from beginning band in junior high to the nationally-acclaimed Stetson University Symphonic Band. My experience as part of the Stetson band is something that will stay with me for the rest of my life. I can't even count the number of times I was moved to tears by the music we were making, both during rehearsals and concerts. I bawled like a little girl at the end of my final band rehearsal in my senior year, knowing that going into composition, I would probably never have such intense musical experiences as a performer ever again. I really poured my whole emotional self into performing that music, and now for the first time in 10 years, I don't have any sort of outlet. I also took a lot of inspiration from the pieces we performed and the emotions they evoked. I'm beginning to wonder if my lack of ensemble participation is contributing to my dry spell of creativity. Ultimately, I feel a giant hole in my life that needs to be filled by the sort of cathartic musical experience only a large ensemble can provide. If next semester goes well enough and I think I can handle it, I'm going to talk to the conductor here and see what sort of time committment is involved in both the symphony orchestra and the wind ensemble. Yes, I already play in the New Music Ensemble here, and it's a lot of fun, but it's very small chamber music work. And ultimately...as much as I admire and enjoy the music of Cage and Reich, it just doesn't grip my heart the way Strauss and Maslanka and Lauridsen do. 

Of course, the choice of program for the concert these kids did their assignment on is particularly poignant. Check out the selection:

Wagner, Der Fliegende Hollander (The Flying Dutchman): Overture

Strauss, Concerto No. 1 for Horn and Orchestra

Mahler, "Adagietto" from Symphony No. 5

Strauss, Death and Transfiguration

The first two pieces are wonderful and dramatic, but the last two...well, they're two of the most emotional pieces ever written. Adagietto was written about Mahler's longing for his future wife. The story goes that he gave her the score when he proposed to her. The conductor described it as him "pouring his heart out in strings". Death and Transfiguration was written when Strauss was only 25, and describes a man who lay dying with his life flashing before his eyes and his eventual death and ascension to heaven. As Strauss himself lay dying so many years later, he told his friend that dying was exactly as he had written about all those years ago. Powerful stuff. It makes my chest swell just thinking about it. I need to have these experiences again, I have to have this part of my life back. I'm not content to merely sit back and listen, though experiencing music live from an audience perspective is a different and wonderful experience in its own right. I need to play again. Soon. 

No Cowboy Boots at the Symphony

((Brief note: the entry from 11/13 about teaching evaluations is finally done. Check it out!))

As usual, I'm spending another night grading a seemingly endless stack of Music 101 papers. The assignment this time was to attend the symphony orchestra concert and write a 2-3 page concert report. I've found reading these papers to be very uplifting so far; some of the kids really had a wonderful time at the concert and seem to have finally gotten what this is all about. There are a few, of course, who just resist every single thing in this class, but for the most part the response has been overwhelmingly positive. As usual, I have to share some particularly funny, terrible, and touching moments from my students' assignments:

-- The week of the concert, we had the conductor of the orchestra come in to talk about the pieces they'd be playing and give the kids a bit more information about how an orchestra works and what a conductor does. She explained the sort of feedback loop of energy that exists between the orchestra, conductor, and audience during a live performance that makes it feel different from a recording. She knew she was sounding new age-ish and mystical, she said, but that they would understand at the performance. One student admitted in his paper that he had been very skeptical about the whole energy idea, but after experiencing the live performance he couldn't possibly deny the connection and that he was completely carried away by their performance of Strauss's Death and Transfiguration. I'm always wary when I read papers like this because I feel like the kids are telling me what I want to hear, but this really rang with a sincerity that I found moving. 

-- During the intermission, one student began talking to the elderly woman next to him. She asked why he was taking notes and said that she didn't know anything about the upcoming pieces. He told her he was there for music class and proceeded to tell her what he had learned about the next pieces! She was very impressed. He said, "It seemed for me astonishing at the time, but I made a new friend, fifty years older than me, in a music concert!"

-- "There was a specific part in the concert I liked where the people in the concert sped up the paste of the violins to make the tempo of the music speed up drastically." ((yes...he actually put "paste"))

-- My favorite excerpt from these papers actually came from a student in the other TA's class. This kid, knowing that he should dress better than usual to go to the concert, put on his nicest button-up shirt and his best pair of cowboy boots. Almost his entire paper was about how self-conscious he was when he showed up to the concert and saw all the nice old people in suits and dresses. It was apparently very poorly written, but so sincere it made the other TA want to cry! The final line of the paper: "Now I know that I should not wear cowboy boots to the symphony." ((It's so funny, but so sweet at the same time! *sniffle*))

More entries featuring the wisdom of my students will be posted as I finish grading these papers over the next few days!

Calling BS: Spectromorphology

"Calling BS" is a Ph.Dead feature in which I lament over those pretentious academics who deem themselves important enough to make up words or concepts and expect a) that we know what the hell they're talking about, and b) that others will use them, too. 

---

Calling BS, 11/10/08: Spectromorphology

I have a great personal grudge against this word. In the field of electroacoustic music, it's impossible to get away from it. One of the great dilemmas of the field is finding a good way to talk about music that often has no score, and that uses sounds in ways we aren't familiar with. It's kind of the popular thing to do when you need to publish something to try to come up with your own solution to the problem. Denis Smalley is one of the few whose ideas actually caught on and became widely talked about among electroacoustic musicians, and for good reason. He's actually quite well respected, and he's not really a bad guy. However, he loses major points in my book for coming up with this clunker of a word. Who the hell wants to write a 20-page paper on Spectromorphology and have to type out that mammoth over and over? Just having to write a 3-page summary of the article in which he introduces the word made me want to cry. To add insult to injury, he not only invents this term, but coins a few others and appropriates dozens more in his attempt to create his “spectromorphological vocabulary”. For the record, here is the origin of this troublesome word:

“I have developed the concepts and terminology of spectromorphology as tools for describing and analysing listening experience. The two parts of the term refer to the interaction between sound spectra (spectro-) and the ways they change and are shaped through time (-morphology).”

In fact, Smalley even admits that his word is FAIL:

“The term may be rather jargonistic and it is perhaps an ungainly word, but I have not managed to invent an alternative which encapsulates the interactive components so accurately.”

I personally vote for “Bob”. 

((All quotes are taken from Smalley, D. 1997. Spectromorphology: explaining sound-shapes.  Organized Sound 2(2): 107-126.))

A Riot of Apathy?

Another day, another dollar. Another class of beautiful, soul-shaking music written by horribly racist, terrible people, another completely apathetic, silent reaction from the class. What is WRONG with these kids? It's not like I'm playing them Gregorian Chant or early baroque music...this is music of the romantic period, some of the most emotional music in the world! I ask for an opinion, like it or no? Three kids out of forty are willing to offer an opinion. I ask if the fact that Wagner was an anti-semetic prick should play into our opinion of his music. “Uh...I guess? I dunno.” I play them Stravinsky's Rite of Spring, a primitivist, violent, dissonant, pounding piece of music that caused a riot when it premiered. I ask them how it's different from Mozart. “Um...there's more rhythm.”

...

*deep, calming breath*

Are all kids so apathetic these days, or is it just this bunch? I know they aren't music majors, but that doesn't excuse the bullshit I get (or rather, don't get) from this bunch every week. At the very least, I would rather they talk out their asses and be completely wrong than put up with the resounding silence every week. I've tried everything I can to move these kids. I've tried presenting them with the most emotional music I can find, I've tried giving them the most bland stuff I can dig up, I've tried giving them admirable composers who lived extraordinary lives, and I've tried offending them with racism and sexism. Totally flatline. 

I'm honestly at a loss. What can you do with completely emotionless students when talking about music? 

Sampling Pinecones

This was prompted by a quote from a visiting composer who lectured in one of my courses yesterday. After listening to a piece of my music, he said, “Much of modern music hurts to listen to. Your music was not painful.”

In the field of computer music, we like to think our art is misunderstood, or just ahead of its time and therefore only able to be appreciated by an enlightened few. I'd like to go on record and say that I hate roughly half (if not more) of the experimental music out there. Why? Well...let's take a look at this edition of the webcomic Pictures for Sad Children for a succinct description:

'Nuff said. I personally believe that music shouldn't be painful unless you're trying to convey a sense of physical pain in your piece. I love noise-based music, feedback, and all the other tools of the trade...but if they aren't used well, I want to stick a fucking pencil in my ear. If that's MY reaction, someone who is used to this crap and trained to appreciate it, what the hell must a casual listener think? I've come to the opinion that people want to feel like the misunderstood artist, labouring against the constraints of society. You know what I think about that? You can send a message and rebel against the status quo without damaging our hearing and brains, you pretentious bastard. I get criticized within my field for my music being too “pretty”, or too “normal”. I personally think it's much more fun to work within the constraints that society gives us, slipping in the experimental things in a way that doesn't offend the average listener. I'd rather subvert the listener, presenting my experimental ideas in a pretty, unsuspecting package that they can appreciate, slowly opening people to new ideas. People don't like sudden, violent change. Most of the time it doesn't actually work. But sometimes...sometimes, I actually get through to people. And after all, what is music without an audience? Yes...I'm probably just as pretentious as everyone else. But at least I don't cause people pain in the process, right? 

Introduction

In true grad student form, I require an excuse to actually get anything done. NaBloPoMo has given me that excuse. 

The idea for this blog has been beating around inside my head since before the semester even started, when I discovered the hard fact of life about grad school: everyone is a fucking pompous asshole. No one cares about anything other than their field, politics, and sports. No one ever has trouble getting motivated or getting their work done. No one ever feels burned out on their topic. 

I call bullshit.

I'm a first year Ph.D student studying computer music composition. I'm burned out and unmotivated more often than not these days. Grad school has thus far proven to be disappointing, confusing, and snobbish, though I've been assured that the first year is always the worst. I'll be blogging about many different aspects of graduate school; student teaching, stuffy academic writing, pretentious jerks, and of course music.  Don't get me wrong, grad school is a wonderful thing. I love that I'm able to research and learn and teach, some of the things I love most in life. Sometimes, though...it really sucks massive Godzilla balls.

Since I both found out about NaBloPoMo late and took forever to get my ass motivated, I'll be posting twice for at least five days this month to make up for November 1st-5th. I say this knowing that it's not really feasible for me to post every single day...but I guess I'm going to try anyway. I'm even going to try to do a semi-periodic feature: Calling BS. I'll post a full introduction to the concept when I post the first entry, but the basic idea is to make fun of the academic assholes who make up their own words to sound sophisticated and to give me an outlet for the frustration this sort of behavior generates. Ultimately, if I end up with something close to 20 entries at the end of November, I'll be satisfied with my efforts. 

So, there you have it. Outtakes, blunders, and gripes from academic America.

Grad school. I will likely be dead or insane before the end of my 5 (or 7, or 10, or 18) years here. Wish me luck.