10 March 2025

The Search for Not Spock

“Wine is technically a juice.” You read any- and everything on the Internet.
Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

The universe is winding down—why shouldn't we?
— Woody Allen, Whatever Works

I forget just when or just how I learnt of Leonard Nimoy’s early memoir, I Am Not Spock, but I’ve certainly been keenly curious to read it, at the latest since watching Star Trek on Blu-ray. Trying to hunt the book down, my experience was that the results presented to me were invariably the sequel, I Am Spock. Yes, I wanted to read the later book, too, but, well, where possible I like to take these things in order. I did find a very good used hardcover copy of the later book for ca. $5, and while I waited for that to come in the mail, I rang my friendly local librarian. Librarians are some of my favorite people. The Library has a nice website and generally speaking its possible to search the catalogue there, but I appear to have a penchant for wanting items for which I do not succeed in searching online. Thus, I asked my librarian for I Am Not Spock. She also, in her search, found the sequel and indeed I had to assure her that there really is/was a book of the title I had specified. She expanded her search (in ways unavailable to us laity) and she found a copy to borrow from a certain network of libraries. The copy which I have had the privilege to read was—well, frail would be overstating its condition. Let’s call it well-readI have lately finished reading the book. Indeed, I’ve just this hour returned it to the Library. Now, I did enjoy the reading. Very much. But I don’t need to pay $50 to own a used “acceptable” copy. So the adventure has been a thorough success.

09 March 2025

Crazy in a (Smaller) Bottle

His attention span is so brief, it’s really an attention pinch.
Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

... and it was at this moment, that he remembered an ancient Eskimo legend ....
— Frank Zappa


In December, as reported here, I wrote Crazy in a Bottle, Op. 194 for a Call for Scores by the Low Blow Ensemble. Pleased with that piece, I chopped out a brass fanfare for a twin Call for brass ensemble pieces: Lord of the Things, Op. 195. The Fickle Finger of Fate turned down Crazy but selected Lord. That stroke of apparent good fortune notwithstanding, the performance of Lord of the Things fell through. Ah, well. This week I saw another call for Bass Clarinet scores, in this case for a maximum of eight bass clarinets. I streamlined the Crazy, shedding the Basset Horn, Alto Clarinet, Contralto and Contrabass Clarinets, reassigning material where needed. And thus has been born the Op. 194a. I shall now proof parts and submit ... and ... we shall see.

08 March 2025

Random Remarks from Recent Listening

Having that swing, it meaneth much. When leprechauns drop acid, do they think they see people?
Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions) 

Violence does not spring from a vacuum. It’s born out of other men’s violence. It gets nurtured and it grows in a soil of prejudice and of hate and of bigotry.
 — Rod Serling

 I havent listened to Schnittke’s First Symphony since before my stroke. I hadnt forgotten the fact that the piece is one hell of a wild ride, but I’d forgotten some of the stops on the trip. I certainly never before recognized the quotation from “Papa’s” “Farewell” Symphony. The symphony is one possible result if Mahler had been alive in 1969 and dropped acid.

Franck is a relatively recently acquired enthusiasm which I have not yet reported on the blog. The Great Performances (I remember buying a few LPs in that series back when) reissue of Leon Fleisher playing the Symphonic Variations, the Rakhmaninov Paganini Rhapsody and Ravel’s Alborada del gracioso was a gift from my friend Dan.

Another such gift was a disc of AndrĂ© Previn and bassist David Finck playing Gershwin. I am surprised neither by the programming nor by the excellence of the performance, only that the disc was issued by Deutsche Grammophon.

Another surprising enthusiasm which blind-sided me has been Rimsky-Korsakov’s Antar, which really ought to be as widely played as Scheherazade.

The odd flashes of musical wit in the soundtracks of Escape from Planet of the Apes and Conquest of Planet of the Apes have been no small part of the enjoyment of finally getting around to watching those old movies.




Just Some Idle Musings, Really

 Because we abhor hyperbole: 85% Satisfaction Guaranteed!
Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

...where it’s a fact that folks need help, but God still seems to be helping those who take a big helping for themselves....
— The late, great Peter Bergman of The Firesign Theatre.

In general, I’m writing much less than earlier, and I wonder about that at odd times. Before my stroke, I wrote constantly, often working on more than one project at a time. And when I was first discharged from rehab, I wrapped up the Opus 148 Symphony for Band, and even that long-delayed project my ballet White Nights. Now, I just don’t write a great deal, and at times feel a disconcertingly low level of what appears to remain of motivation. I have seldom (or even never) been genuinely depressed at the state of affairs. Let’s say that I’ve vacillated between a mild background dissatisfaction and a near-contentment to wait upon the Muse. I should like (and believe I may be close) to remain at a genuine contentment per that latter pole. I have come to understand on more than one level that in the first place, comparison to my life before the stroke is invalid because my stamina level simply is not what it was. And in the second, comparison to the period immediately after my discharge is invalid because by that time my musical brain had been champing at the bit for a couple of months. I think at times of how little attention I dedicate to O singer, bashful and tender, I hear your tender notes, and yet, there is no need to press forward with it, as no one needs it. I mean that completely neutrally, with none of the undercurrent snark of which I cannot plead complete innocence in the past. But against that let us set The Orpheus of Lowell, which I succeeded in chopping out very efficiently, and which is (I believe) a significant musical success. So, let me chill, therefore.


03 March 2025

Coming to King’s 8 April

 I’ll say this about auto-correct: It errs on the side of cozy... Failing to recognize “motets,” it gave me mittens.
And it made “Introitus” nutritious.
Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

I am not Spock.

But given the choice, if I had to be someone else, I’d be Spock. If someone said, “You can have the choice of being any other TV character ever played,” I would choose Spock. I like him. I admire him. I respect him.

If someone could wave a magic wand and make him go away, disappear forever, I wouldn’t let them do it. I would choose to keep him alive. I don’’t really have that choice. He’ll be around anyway. But if I had that choice I would keep him alive. He stands for something that makes me feel good. Dignity and honesty and a lot more. And whatever of that rubs off on me makes me feel good.

But, I am not Spock.

— Leonard Nimoy, I Am Not Spock

Hooch at the Hop?

Music for the un-Hip Hop, Op. 178 (two flutes)
Yesterday's Snow, Op. 160a (two C flutes and Bass Clarinet)
Surfing an Earthquake, Op. 190 (three flutes)
Snootful of Hooch, Op. 159b (C flute, Alto Flute and B-flat Clarinet)
Amorphous and Forward-Looking, Op. 196 (C flute, Alto Flute and Bass Clarinet)

Peter H Bloom, flute and alto flute
Carol Epple, flute and piccolo
Dan Zupan, alto saxophone and bass clarinet
Dave Zox, double bass




02 March 2025

The Unexpexted Zappa Orgy of 1Q25 Part VII

 Can I eat a decorative gourd? I want to be beautiful inside.Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

Genius may have its limitations, but stupidity is not thus handicapped.— Elbert Hubbard

This is a revisitation. Back when there was a Newbury Comics near Boston’s Old State House, at what I want to say was called the Washington Mall (basically a few storefronts on a brick-paved walkway between Washington Street and City Hall) I do declare there were times when I logged some impulse purchases there. One of these was Zappa’s Civilization Phaze III. I must have listened to it once, neither hated nor adored it, made a non-urgent mental note that I would revisit it sometime ... and years passed. The thought that occurs to me today, before once again slipping the CDs into the tray, is that back when Lumpy Gravy and We’re Only In It For the Money were originally released, printed on the album covers were the legends, “Is this phase two of We’re Only In It For the Money” and “Is this phase one of Lumpy Gravy, respectively. “Is that one source of Phaze III?” I didn’t even see the rhetorical question coming, Officer. As I listen to this on repeat-ish this year, it’s rather growing on me: the characteristically freewheeling invention in the Synclavier music (both the composition qua composition and the use of timbre) the resuscitation of the “Piano People,” and new “Piano People” in the 90’s. The additional material of the original “Piano People” (redeemed from tape which sat in the archives lo! these long years does not always rise above mildly interesting (a very little of “Louis the Turkeys ” explosive and non-dulcet laughter goes a loooong way.) and I may at times find myself wondering if I care about the musings of the latter-day “Piano People,” but that is ultimately a minor quibble for me, and I find the “recapitulation” of some of the old “Piano People” dialogue which had appeared on Lumpy Gravy somewhat amusing. The 18-minute “N-Lite” concluding the first disc is kind of a “Shut Up And Play Yer Guitar” event. It is a rewarding listen, albeit requiring (what is becoming a rarer faculty in our “aggressively online” era) focused attention. Would “N-Lite” fall easier upon the ear (he queried both rhetorically and wildly speculatively) if it were realized by human musicians? Perhaps, but in the first place there are timbres here produced by the Synclavier which “genuine instruments” might only simulate. And in the second, the Synclavier was something of a dream come true for Zappa, who struggled over the years to get orchestras to play his considerably demanding and complicated scores with musical justice and accuracy. And so, when Zappa had found and learnt how to utilize this tool, he could compose “large ensemble” music without regard for what was strictly humanly possible. This is, we should say, one of the joys of this release.

Overall, and this verges on stating the obvious, since Lumpy Gravy runs for one-quarter the duration of Civ. Ph. III, the latter is not so “casually consumable” as the older ballet. I do not consider the raw fact of that comparison itself any flaw of the later release. And, harp-like timbres in “Pigs With Wings?” Who says Zappa was incapable of delicate wit?

It is emblematic of the care Zappa lavished on this release that he provides not only a scenario but a complete transcript of the album. Personally, I don’t take the scenario quite seriously, but I applaud and respect Zappa’s giving the auditor that option (in the spirit of “optional entertainment.”) Can I let the 90’s “Piano People” into the tent? (I mean, into the piano) Yeah, sure I can.





’s

Hopping Proper at Last

 My new favorite part of 1934’s The Man Who Knew Too Much? Just before the conductor gives the big opening downbeat, a bloke in the Albert Hall audience coughs. Bless Hitch for his realism!
Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

Democracy is the theory that the common people know what they want, and deserve to get it good and hard.
— H. L. Mencken

In July of 2023, I first composed Music for the Un-Hip Hop, Op. 178. However, yesterday it grievously yet altogether rightly came to my belated attention that the page turns for both flutists were utterly verkakte, to employ the musically correct term. Did I know this in 2023, and “simply assumed” that the players would read from the score? (as if turning pages would somehow not be an issue in that case.) Whatever the insufficient case might be, I cleaned things up so that both flutists have manageable page turns. This process involved the insertion of some material here and there, so the piece is both brand-new, and yet much the same.

01 March 2025

Bringing on the Amorphous, Altering the Hooch

Holding your supplemental hymnal while the neighbors decide,
Why is a vegetable something to hide?
Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

I like being Spock. But I like myself too. I'd like to be me independent of him. I try—very hard, but it's tough. Sometimes I think I've done it. Sometimes I work very hard at doing my things, thinking my own thoughts. To be me, Leonard Nimoy. Sometimes I think I've got it made! Then I'll get on an airplane and somebody'll flash me a Vulcan salute. Or some nice lady will ask for my autograph and I'll proudly sign, "Leonard Nimoy," and then she'll say, "please sign Mr Spock. That's the way my son knows you.
— Leonard Nimoy, I Am Not Spock

Pursuant to the need  expressed here, to have more lower voice and/or timbres other than C Flute for the April King’s Chapel concert, not only have I composed Amorphous and Forward-Looking, Op. 196, but I swapped a B-flat Clarinet for one of the C Flutes in Snootful of Hooch (that means Op. 159b) We did not read either piece at today’s Henning Ensemble rehearsal, as we had the full quartet. We therefore read both Alan Westby’s revised Quiet Girl and my Dark Side of the Sun. We also came up with some dates, so let's see if we can ink in another concert.