The Livestream That Wasn't

Is mayhem ever obligatory, and does it thereby become musthem?
— Postcards From Red Squirrel Trail

"We all sat down [...] and looked at one another in a friendly but rather awkward way. It was the first practical trial of our theories of equal brotherhood and sisterhood; and we people of superior cultivation (for as such, I presume, we unhesitatingly reckoned ourselves) felt as if something were already accomplished towards the millennium of love. The truth is, however, that the laboring oar was with our unpolished companions; it being far easier to condescend than to accept of condescension.
— Nathaniel Hawthorne, The Blithedale Romance

Firstly and overarchingly importantly, the concert last night went smashingly and I brim with gratitude to/for my colleagues, and my happiness for the artistic endeavor is complete.

Unlike last year, it was not possible for the Library to stream the event. This is mere reportage of a fact, and in no way a complaint. The Library have continued to be a princely host and a warmly appreciated support.

My thought for a Plan B was to livestream on my own YouTube channel. I have never done so, so I knew there were imponderables. I knew there were things I did not know and I knew I did not even know what it was that I did not know. In brief, the only thing I succeeded in doing was to create the event on my channel, on my laptop. I did not know how I should fare, trying to launch the event from the YouTube app on my phone.

The good souls at the Library found a tripod and we succeeded in mounting my phone on the tripod. So far, still so hopeful.

However neither R. nor I could discern how the event might be set in motion. Alongside came J. who found guidelines for livestreaming via the mobile app, and my account simply does not qualify for that activity. For only one thing, it appears that an account must have 50 subscribers and by that criterion alone luck is just what I was out of.

We learnt all of this on the fly right at about the time the concert was to begin. If that sounds stressful, well maybe it was, maybe it was not. I owe hearty thanks to both R. & J. who were patient and actively helpful. Bottom line: enormously happy with how the concert went. Everything went as well as ever it did. I have good reason to be especially pleased with the Rahsaan Roland Kirk Fantasia. I was unusually well rested, which must have helped greatly. The pre-concert kerfuffle of figuring out at the eleventh hour that there would be no live stream notwithstanding, I was relaxed and centered. I felt an unusual degree of confidence, and that sympathetically flowed out to the band, meseemed.

 

Nearing Concert Time

 No pop singer but Billy Joel would sing, “I have been a fool for lesser things.” To be clear, I think that is to his credit.
— Postcards From Red Squirrel Trail

It is well that war is so terrible; we should grow too fond of it.
— Robert E. Lee

Our concert at the Woburn Public Library is Wednesday, and our dress rehearsal is tomorrow. We shall be ready.

Opus 213 Done

 When we drive through Middleton, I half-wonder if we've somehow missed either Beginnington or Endington.
— Postcards From Red Squirrel Trail

True ignorance is not the absence of knowledge, but the refusal to acquire it.
— Karl Popper

Smooth is not how the course of the Opus 213 ran. Just reporting, not complaining.  Illusions I Can Live With began life at a time when I was expecting that we should have only Carol & Peter for the 1 December King’s Chapel concert. As of September the 7th, the score ran to 40 measures and less than two minutes of music. At that point, the piece waited (first) upon organizational work for the Library concert, and then sat tight while I composed the 16 little pieces comprising the Opp. 211 & 214. None of these considerations was any absolute impediment to work on Illusions, but the subtextual fact was that although I had set down notes which I liked, I had not yet found a sense of direction for the piece. In fact, although not in the back of my mind, but indeed in the shade of my mind’s forefront, the question, whether I ought to just start afresh was long a low-impact nag.

But then, to my delight, Dan Zupan is ready to be restored to the Active roster, and the obvious musical solution was to make the piece a trio. To the point of “although I had set down notes which I liked,” above, every single note in the 7 September score remained untouched whille I gleefully added the bass clarinet. And poof! the Opus 213 is complete.

Opus 214 Done

 This might be a commuter train. Or, it might be an e-reader showroom.
— Postcards From Red Squirrel Trail

Mortimer lighted the candles. They showed the the visitor to be an ill-looking visitor with a squinting leer, who, as he spoke, fumbled at an old sodden fur cap, formless and mangey, that looked like a furry animal, dog or cat, puppy or kitten, drowned and decaying.
— Dickens, Our Mutual Friend

The project was even more a caprice than the Opus 211 Simple Preludes, and unlike the latter I intended a set of ten from the outset. Did I need a goal? Dunno, but I set one. the Ten Inconsequentialities for Toy Piano are dedicated to my friend and colleague Olivia Kieffer who has graciously expressed enthusiasm for the pieces.

The set consists of:

i. artifice
ii. brouhaha
iii. change
iv. detritus
v. ego
vi. fandom
vii. glitz
viii. hindsight
ix. immateriality
x. jurisprudence

Further Inconsequentialities

 To paraphrase Twain: “I only want to interest the listener, he can go elsewhere for profit & instruction.”
— Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

You can’t calm the storm, so stop trying. What you can do is calm yourself. The storm will pass.
— Buddha

Since my last report, I have composed four more Inconsequentialities. Three to go, Progress has not strictly been one daily, but then, I was unconcerned with progress, per se, so we consider the mission intact. Two more rehearsals before the Henning Ensemble program at the Library.

Chuffing Along

 Yes, I think I can tell a green field from a cold steel rail.

— Postcards From Red Squirrel Trail

Now don’t crowd me lady or I’ll fill up your shoe, I am a sweet bourbon daddy and tonight I am blue.

— Bob Dylan

I noted here that I might set the text No One Has Time for Anything But Life for unaccompanied choir and so I did, and thus was born the Opus 215. Triad alumnus Julian Bryson has responded positively. And another fellow composer writes: Looking at the score, what a delightful economy of means to make your musical and spiritual point.

Excellent Henning Ensemble rehearsal yesterday, another tomorrow.

Five Years Ago Today

 Euphoria in Peoria?

— Postcards From Red Squirrel Trail

The trick is, not to get killed. That’s really the key to the benefit program.

— Peter Falk in The In-Laws

Remembering with great pleasure the commemorative launch of the Kerouac Centenary