Mabel

Mabel People-Watching
Originally uploaded by madabandon.

I don't know if she could possibly be any cuter.

hmmmm

033106
Originally uploaded by madabandon.

What's with my eyes? I look crazy. And you can see my fat pianist fingers. People think pianists have long fingers. Long fingers are actually a hindrance. You want wide palms and good extension. Pianists' fingers are usually strangely stubby-looking. Next time you meet a pianist, ask to see them.

emerge

From Winter
Originally uploaded by madabandon.

My hideous headache, which prevented me from going to my friend's concert last night, seems to have abated. I had it when I went to bed, but thankfully I was actually able to sleep a little better this morning, and when I woke up my head felt--and still feels--fine.

I just found out that I can go upstate next week and stay at that amazingly beautiful house where I stayed last summer. This is perfect, as I have to be in Poughkeepsie anyway, and I need some respite from the city and I need to really focus on my next BIG project. I can't write or say a thing about that project currently, as my collaborator and I are both a little superstitious and don't want to jinx ourselves.

Mabel Model

Mabel Model
Originally uploaded by madabandon.

Mabel had her hair cut on Friday. While this picture is from a few months ago, this is how she looks. She is really too cute. Much too cute. I can't walk down a street without getting stopped constantly. And she loves it. She can't get enough love. The day I picked her up from her haircut, Friday, it was raining, and not many people were out to admire her. She was definitely pissed, and kept asking to go out constantly for the rest of the day. She didn't need to go out to answer the call of nature; she wanted to be admired by the requisite quota before the day was over.

Dumbo Muffins

Dumbo Muffins
Originally uploaded by madabandon.

I wonder if muffins are actually made in this scary building. Dumbo is strange. One block is filled with glittering new condos and fancy little shops to cater to the wealthy Manhattanites who have flocked to the area in the last few years. But turn a corner, and you might stumble across a building like this one.

I had friends, artists, who lived in Dumbo in the old days. It was like a sort of urban no-man's land, but the lofts were big and cheap with great light. As usual, once the artists are there, gentrification is following right behind and the artists are the first to get the boot. Most of my friends who lived there gave up and left the city, retreating upstate to Columbia and Ulster and Sullivan counties.

Walls

Wall, Dumbo
Originally uploaded by madabandon.

almost done

Self-Portrait in Empire Stores
Originally uploaded by madabandon.

I finished all the vocal music for OEDIPUS. All that remains is the prologue, which is largely written already. And rehearsing, of course. I sent it all off this morning. I don't really have much of a sense of having finished anything, though. I won't have that until the performance is a done deal.

It was a beautiful spring day today and I walked down to Dumbo which is changing every week. Parts of it are urban-yuppie-playground while other parts are still desolate and bleak.

superstitious?

sky
Originally uploaded by madabandon.

When I work (compose), I never stop with a finished phrase. I leave something hanging. That way when I start working next I can pick the phrase up mid-thought. And when I make a notation error (wrong note, wrong rhythm) I leave it there, unless it is truly hideous. I want some random element to counter all those deliberations.

what to say

landscape (detail)
Originally uploaded by madabandon.

After a rather intense appointment with my shrink I went to school to teach one class. I had been there only a few minutes when I was told by a close colleague that _______________ had died. Suddenly. A former student, one of my favorites, whose vivid flare and wild talent were evident at an early age. I was already in bad shape. My headache, which I was holding at bay thanks to imitrex, was pushing behind my eyes, which suddenly filled with tears. I would not cry in my office. I sat at my desk and just kept saying "oh shit oh shit oh shit." I wish that I could say that this was the first time I had had this experience, but there have been more than few among the kids I've taught. I don't really know what to say. I feel bizarrely empty, now; it is as if sadness and anger are too overwhelming so I won't even let them gain a foothold.

Then I met my brother and my father in Soho for dinner at a restaurant owned by clients of my brother, a very fine restaurant. It was a nice meal, returning headache notwithstanding, during which we discussed my brother's personal life and my sister's personal life. Interestingly, not a word was spoken of mine. No one asked so I didn't tell.

migraine

lavender and red
Originally uploaded by madabandon.

400

400
Originally uploaded by madabandon.

Maybe this is my four-hundredth migraine in this decade. Maybe it is not. But no matter. I have a bad one. The left side of my head is pounding. I see flashes in my left eye. When I move my head even the slightest amount I want to scream. And yet I have a busy day ahead of me. Will I make it? Or will I have to surrender to the migraine, crawl into bed, pull the blinds, and lie in darkness til it passes? Tune in later to find out what happens.

spring has sprung?

walking uptown
Originally uploaded by madabandon.

Today is the first day of spring, but you would not know it. The snow is still piled up on the curb. It is cold. My back hurts from digging my car out of the snow on Monday; it was all for naught, as Mayor Bloomberg canceled the parking rules on Tuesday. But they never make the decision until the wee hours, so I dug it out thinking I would have to move it early. In the past they would announce that the rules were suspended for several days at a time so we don't have to play the guessing game.

I am feeling quite irritable lately. I am not sure why. Little things are setting me off. Tomorrow evening my father is coming to the city to have dinner with my brother and I, which will be nice. I have not seen him in a while, and it has been a few years since he came up here. We used to see him twice a year or so; he likes to go to nice restaurants, which are definitely not in abundance in the corner of PA where he lives. I hope he and my brother--both lawyers--do not spend the whole time talking about work stuff, but they most likely will, and I will be left to sit, bored out of my mind, with no one to talk to.

another argument for never living anywhere but new york city

When I read stuff like this I think I must be crazy to ever contemplate leaving one of the few sane cities in the US. Basically, leave LA, SF, or NYC, Boston, DC, and a few others, and you are not far from this kind of thing. It makes me feel two conflicting ways: hopeless, and fighting mad.

clarification

I received a comment on yesterday's post:

I don't see any problem with his asking for money on his website. He is probably putting himself out there as his financial situation is not so rosy. You can choose to donate, or not to. This money 'asking' thing might alienate friends or peers, given the 'indignity' of it, perhaps he is really in dire financial situation to resort to this? It must have taken him a tremendous amount of courage to do this. As someone you respect and like, I reckon you should not be too hasty in judging his action. I'm sure he has thought long and hard about it.

I did not give out all the relevant information in my post, and perhaps I should have. The composer I wrote about is not in dire financial straits, but in fact has received a number of large grants and awards in the last few years, including a hefty one (one that I myself was awarded years ago) which allowed her to live abroad and compose and perform around Europe. I am not against anyone asking for money if there is dire need. It is the act of essentially creating your own "club" in which the members simply support the artist that I find troublesome. And asking other artists to contribute money to allow you to do the same thing they are trying to do is odd. Perhaps the composer should have had a targeted list of potential patrons to whom to appeal, rather than sending a request to fellow artists, all of whom are in the same boat, trying to scratch up money for performances and new commissions.

I know very few composers who make much money from composing, unless they do commercial work. We would all love to have people just give us money so we can keep composing. But never before have I seen this kind of "fundraising" effort. Throughout history artists have had patrons, but the arrangements were made discreetly.

And if the fees from commissions and royalties don't add up to much, the simple solution is to do what just about every composer I know does, and get a job.

And just one more point: my reader, Pate, tells me not to judge hastily. Let me assure you that I first received a solicitation from this composer months ago, and I let it go. It was only after getting yet another, and looking at the issue more deeply, that I wrote about it here. With all due respect, perhaps Pate should not be so hasty as to jump to conclusions about my thought processes.

unsure. please advise.

chairs
Originally uploaded by madabandon.

Here's the situation: a composer colleague with whom I have a long acquaintance--we have both studied with the same teacher, and have appeared on concerts together, and I've performed on a concert series this composer curated--is having some upcoming performances in NYC. The concert series featuring my friend pays a fee to the composer, and handles the publicity. The fee rarely covers the total cost of paying performers. The composer provides whatever other funds are needed.
Maybe several months ago, this composer sent an email to a list of people asking for contributions to help fund this concert. I was taken aback by this approach, and did not respond to the email except to say that I was looking forward to the event.

After getting an email the other day about the upcoming performances, I followed a link to the composer's website. It seems out that my friend has created a "performance and commission club." One can donate (through PayPal even!) a sum to fund future works and performances by this composer. There are suggested levels; at the highest, the donor gets a mention on the concert program, a signed copy of the score, a CD of the composers' older works, and a recording of the live performance. These trickle on down; everyone gets a CD.

I was dumbfounded. All artists, or most anyway, know the tedium of applying for grants and awards, fellowships; the stuff that helps fund work of a non-commercial nature. But to ask, outright, for your friends and fans to give you money so that you can write seems just way too...too something...crass? I am not sure of the right word for what I want. To me it is like approaching my friends and musical admirers and asking for a handout.

At the same time this is a person I genuinely like and with whom I have a good professional and personal relationship. But now I feel funny. I don't want to be judgmental but at the same time I can't deny that I find the whole concept disturbing both ethically and professionally. I can't imagine asking my friends to contribute money to me so that I can keep composing.

It reminds me of a far more savvy version of the old story: you go to a concert or an opening or some performance and go out to dinner with friends and some young artist or musician comes along and when the bill comes said artist or musician has no money. I never had the gall to do that myself.

classic

classic
Originally uploaded by madabandon.

Crossing 14th Street I saw this car parked on the street. I didn't get to see what kind of car it is, but it is beautiful. It is the same color as my humble Mazda, but much more memorable. When I was little, around age eight or so, I was fascinated by cars--the design, not the mechanics--and was constantly sketching ideas for new ones. I could name the model of any car I saw, down to the year. When I was nine my father bought a black Audi sedan, available in the US for the first time; no one we knew drove foreign cars (except Volkswagens), and it seemed exotic to me.

cobblestones

cobblestones
Originally uploaded by madabandon.

My plan was to go to PA today to see my aunt, who flew up from Miami this morning. But my car was half-buried in the wake of the snow plows and I felt totally tired even after seven hours of sleep. So instead I walked around the far west village into the "meat packing district" and then to Chelsea Market. The sky went from blue to cold icy gray in the space of just a few hours. I was freezing.

blur, morning

blur, morning
Originally uploaded by madabandon.

The morning is my favorite time of day. And luckily I usually, most days, have the mornings largely free to think, compose, read, do nothing. I would never be able to function if I had a 9-5 job. So far I have never had one, and if all goes as planned I never will.

off-center

center
Originally uploaded by madabandon.

General Pace, a Marine, has proclaimed that homosexual acts are immoral. Interesting conclusion coming from someone who's job it is to kill people.

* * * * * * *

I was waiting for an elevator at school. I was trying to carry a clipboard, several books, a cup of coffee, and a paper plate with some food. As I carefully balanced this precarious pile of stuff a colleague from another department came over. She asked me how things were going. "I am trying to balance all this stuff, and I am afraid something is going to give," I told her. She paused for a long moment and said "I don't know. You seem like a pretty balanced person. You'll be fine."

crunch

crunch
Originally uploaded by madabandon.

I feel the weight of many obligations on my tired shoulders. As I have probably written previously, I am over-committed, work-wise. Basically as it appears the dust will not clear until mid-May. I love my work, almost all of it, but I do not do well when I have many pressing obligations. I have a way of losing focus and seeing only the totality--which, looked at objectively, seems impossible to manage--rather than taking each task one at a time. So I feel a time crunch, and yet I am tired and am not able to get much work done the last two days. I keep trying to go to bed early to catch up on sleep, but somehow I end up staying awake past midnight.

This ad for the gym is on the side of the Crunch gym on DeKalb Avenue in Fort Greene. I walk past it frequently. Yet I only just noticed that it advertises "things to punch" as an attraction. Am I the only one who finds this odd and a bit unnerving? Do we want to encourage people to punch things?