This is my first day of school, and since my last class of the day was a lab, and lab sessions don't start until next week...I have an hour or two free.
I think--I really think--that all my classes will be fun this year. I have a Physics class that explores the relationship between physics and music. I have a World Music Appreciation class (unfortunately "World" doesn't mean world, only African and Asian music--I was hoping for a greater variety). I have a Music Theory class, an Ear Training Class, a Chamber Music class, Orchestra, General Lectures and Concerts, and private music lessons with a wonderful (I'm told) violin teacher named Marian, who is Romanian and male, despite his name, and plays for the DSO.
My Ear Training class should be interesting, because it includes both those who know a diminished seventh when they hear it, and those who aren't sure what note comes after C. (I'm in the middle--I don't know what a diminished seventh is exactly, but I know it's some sort of interval, like C to B-flat.) Also--and I don't know what this suggests, but it must suggest something--with two exceptions in our class of forty, all the girls are vocal or violin performance majors, and all the guys are studying jazz. Does this mean that only girls are intelligent enough to handle classical music and strong enough to handle the stresses of a performance major? Or are we having a jazz revolution among the college-bound boys? You tell me.
Whatever it is, Professor Braunschweig should be able to handle it, because he's an easy-going fella, though very definitely not a Republican, as he made sure we knew. (I still don't know why he told us this.) He also believes that The Star-Spangled Banner is musically-speaking the worst song ever written, and he doesn't consider it a fit song for our national anthem. I agree with him, of course, because it's a pain in the neck to sing, especially when one has to change octaves at least three times like I do. (If there is anyone out there who can comfortably sing The Star-Spangled Banner without straining the high notes or growling the low notes, I'd be delighted to hear from you--you're probably the only one in the country.)
Also, Julie Andrews would be proud of me. I'm learning solfeggio (as in "do, re, mi") and I've learned plenty already, such as the fact that it's really "sol", not "sew" as Julie led me to believe. Also that it isn't enough to know "do-re-mi-fa-sol-la-ti-do"--you must also know "do-ti-la-sol-fa-mi-re-do", which is solfeggio backwards. (Some people think that solfeggio backwards is "oiggeflos", but they're wrong.)
This is totally off the subject, but I was playing Spoons last night, and I have plenty of battle wounds in consequence. Does anyone reading this play Spoons in a relatively calm manner, without resort to violence? My cousins don't. Once someone gets a hand-of-4, and starts for a spoon, it's a free-for-all. Some people even think it's funny to grab a handful of spoons at once and toss them. What with people diving for them and landing on each other and wrestling spoons away from all and sundry, it's surprising that I didn't end up with broken bones. You can say what you want, but I will forever insist that it's all my cousin Brett's fault. He started the violence, and all I can say is, next time he does me bodily harm in his frenzied grab for a spoon, I'm going to kick him very hard on the shin. Hmph.
I think--I really think--that all my classes will be fun this year. I have a Physics class that explores the relationship between physics and music. I have a World Music Appreciation class (unfortunately "World" doesn't mean world, only African and Asian music--I was hoping for a greater variety). I have a Music Theory class, an Ear Training Class, a Chamber Music class, Orchestra, General Lectures and Concerts, and private music lessons with a wonderful (I'm told) violin teacher named Marian, who is Romanian and male, despite his name, and plays for the DSO.
My Ear Training class should be interesting, because it includes both those who know a diminished seventh when they hear it, and those who aren't sure what note comes after C. (I'm in the middle--I don't know what a diminished seventh is exactly, but I know it's some sort of interval, like C to B-flat.) Also--and I don't know what this suggests, but it must suggest something--with two exceptions in our class of forty, all the girls are vocal or violin performance majors, and all the guys are studying jazz. Does this mean that only girls are intelligent enough to handle classical music and strong enough to handle the stresses of a performance major? Or are we having a jazz revolution among the college-bound boys? You tell me.
Whatever it is, Professor Braunschweig should be able to handle it, because he's an easy-going fella, though very definitely not a Republican, as he made sure we knew. (I still don't know why he told us this.) He also believes that The Star-Spangled Banner is musically-speaking the worst song ever written, and he doesn't consider it a fit song for our national anthem. I agree with him, of course, because it's a pain in the neck to sing, especially when one has to change octaves at least three times like I do. (If there is anyone out there who can comfortably sing The Star-Spangled Banner without straining the high notes or growling the low notes, I'd be delighted to hear from you--you're probably the only one in the country.)
Also, Julie Andrews would be proud of me. I'm learning solfeggio (as in "do, re, mi") and I've learned plenty already, such as the fact that it's really "sol", not "sew" as Julie led me to believe. Also that it isn't enough to know "do-re-mi-fa-sol-la-ti-do"--you must also know "do-ti-la-sol-fa-mi-re-do", which is solfeggio backwards. (Some people think that solfeggio backwards is "oiggeflos", but they're wrong.)
This is totally off the subject, but I was playing Spoons last night, and I have plenty of battle wounds in consequence. Does anyone reading this play Spoons in a relatively calm manner, without resort to violence? My cousins don't. Once someone gets a hand-of-4, and starts for a spoon, it's a free-for-all. Some people even think it's funny to grab a handful of spoons at once and toss them. What with people diving for them and landing on each other and wrestling spoons away from all and sundry, it's surprising that I didn't end up with broken bones. You can say what you want, but I will forever insist that it's all my cousin Brett's fault. He started the violence, and all I can say is, next time he does me bodily harm in his frenzied grab for a spoon, I'm going to kick him very hard on the shin. Hmph.
