thirteen ways

This is a lazy Sunday morning blog post from Melbourne. I’m grumpy that I have no TV to watch my political geek-out, Insiders, I’m pre-tea and pre-eggs and pre-social, so it’s time to blog.

I thought it might be interesting to link to some posts that I wrote this past season about working with composers.

I found working with Osvaldo Golijov to be a very powerful, moving experience. As a result, the two entries written during the experience could hardly be described as “objective.” I was clearly under the spell of this musical evangelist, and the gushing does get pretty embarrassing. Here, Osvaldo talks to a class at the University of Richmond. Here, I describe working with Osvaldo and Dawn Upshaw in rehearsal.

Here is a short post about working with Steve Reich in Richmond. By any standard measure that was a fan-bloody-tastic day.

Here is David Lang and the 8bb crew. Unlike many composers, David has both concision and clarity in his communicative armory, which equips him perfectly for working with prima donnas like us.

Working on Tamar Muskal’s Mirrors at the very opening of the season was very challenging, and although this entry is only tangentially about working with Tamar, I still find it an interesting post. Read and listen to composer chit-chats with Ben Broening and Frances White.

Last but certainly not least, Stephen Hartke talks here. Then here and here, I write about working with Stephen, which was a fascinating experience

It’s good to be home.

Thanks to myriad traffic problems in Brisbane’s CBD, Queensland state government is fast turning the city into a network of tunnels. This is possible thanks to Bris Vegas’ hilly topography, which was one unfortunate feature that led to the bottle-neck gridlock in the first place. Those who brave the mean streets of Chicago, or who (like me) are lazy musicians but listen to Abby Ryan’s sexy NPR traffic updates (she has a website!), know that Brisbane folks could have it a lot worse…

The entry point to one of the tunnels is one block from my mum’s place. Dozens of historic Queenslanders will be bulldozed and the local four-lane street will be turned into a 10-lane, 50-metre-wide highway. This has sparked some protest, but us lazy, middle-class, sunshine-state yuppies don’t really know how to create a real hullabaloo.

During the time that I’m away from Oz, I manage to build up a dewey-eyed, utopian vision of the country, one that is clearly at odds with the reality. Since I only listen to the ABC (which, like NPR and BBC, is constantly made fun of - and makes fun of itself - as a hotbed of communist sympathizers and anarchist elements), I forget the inherent conservatism of the place.

The release of convicted paedophile Dennis Ferguson into Brisbane’s far south tip caused a frenzy of truly chilling proportions. Watch the videos on this page. 

And an exhibition of works by renowned Australian photographer Bill Henson sparked a wave of controversy, police action, and a hasty and unwise retaliation by (government-funded) magazine Art Monthly. The Prime Minister injected his voice into the fray, leading to the promise of “protocols to cover the representation of children in art.”

A sport-mad country yesterday woke up to the crushing news that its only Olympic track and field hope (we’re the swimmers, remember!) has been forced out of competition by a foot injury.

In other news, our Prime Minister “speed dates” the leaders of the world, kids in Oz leave high school not knowing about the Holocaust, and apparently I will be hanging with LOTS of Christians when I visit Sydney next week…

Oh, and apparently the name “Bris Vegas” as a substitute for “Brisbane,” which is widespread in the city, dates from a bit more than a decade ago, and may have been a derogatory term coined by the bastards down south. Locals, in typical Queensland fashion, have made vice into virtue by turning it into a term of endearment!