Les Arts Florissants

Another blast from the past: a concert review from December 6, 2001.

Last night, I had the (rare) opportunity to hear an ensemble I’ve known about for some time, Les Arts Florissants, directed by William Christie, a Buffalo, NY-born conductor and musicologist. The all-French ensemble presented some major Christmas works by Marc-Antoine Charpentier. I’ve actually never heard this composer in all my Baroque knowings, but it was all good. The ensemble had a really good intonation, and the presentation was crisp and first-rate. Both instrumentalists and singers were on top-form, and I especially liked the no-vibrato technique by the first-violinist. The concert was held at the University of Richmond. It is always distressing, however, to find the audience at such concerts so old. There was a walker (with training wheels) in the entrance area. Why don’t more people my age like this ancient music?

Lobster Shanty

I recently installed a new application on my computer called Leap which is kind of a tagging, find it, organize it application. It does things we all wish the Mac Finder did, by itself.

I found this blog post from December 29, 2001, I thought I’d share.

One evening, my dad took us to Jack Baker’s Lobster Shanty, a little family-style seafood restaurant in Rio, Florida. You can read the entire history of the place on their website, if you like. I’ll save myself the trouble. But my dad orders chicken. Seems odd, wouldn’t you think, for a seafood place? Then he only eats half, and claims he’s sick. My mom blames it on the corn fritters which she adored. They had been fried, you see, and my dad doesn’t react well to fried foods. I had a crab cake and shrimp, and my mom ordered the entire fried shrimp dinner. At Jack’s, you get a choice of salad bar or chowder with your meal, and a seemingly complimentary little scoop of cole slaw. Odd, we thought. But my mom started on those hush puppies, pretty much ignored the slaw, and joined us at the salad bar. But come time for the entrees, she was unsure she could finish the large platter. I admit, I was pretty full upon finishing mine. It was decent food, not gourmet, but a worthy dinner. My mom–and this is the interesting part–claimed she was “done” when the waitress came to clear plates. She said, “Oh– you’re done?!” in a half-believed kind of way. The thing was, my mom’s plate was at first glance still very full. But upon close inspection, you could see that she had cleanly bitten-off only the tips of the shrimp. When questioned, “I don’t want to eat the tail.” Hmm. Seems to me you could divide a fried shrimp into thirds: tip, middle, and tail. But out of a petrid fear of getting to close to that handle of a tail (and I’ve known some Filipinos who eat the tail), she only ate the tips. It could have been said, “Oh, there’s a lemon-scented meal o’ SHRIMP TIPS over at table 4…” So yes, my mom only ate a third of her shrimp, the tips.

So, the next time you invite my mom over for a catered affair, be ready to sink an awful lot of money into shrimp tips, because she’ll leave the rest.

Pianoteq

I recently came across Pianoteq in MacLife magazine. Tonight I downloaded it and tried it out.

My keyboard skills suffer poorly now compared to what I could do, say, 10-20 years ago. I began playing the piano at age 5, the organ at age 4; and I was most active composing music for keyboard throughout my teenage years. Today, I rarely turn on the synthesizer, but for a number of reasons, including time commitments, and the “feel/sound/authenticity” of the synthesizer compared to the old-fashioned piano.

Pianoteq promises the most realistic synthesized sound. Instead of samples, it uses algorithms that virtually “shape” piano sound. I still have more testing to do, but it did sound good. Getting pedal sounds out of it was especially cool.

I may also admit that perhaps my synthesizer keyboard isn’t the best match, and perhaps, something like Pianoteq and a new master keyboard would be in order.

Since 1992, when I graduated from high school, I’ve been playing a Yamaha SY99, 76-key synthesizer. At the time, it was high-end, costing around $4K. It’s giant and heavy. But it lacks the full 88 keys, and the keys are not “weighted” piano-style keys. Instead, they are aftertouch, velocity-sensitive, plastic synth keys.

These aren’t necessarily bad; I play much more quickly with this style of keyboard. But I think to get the most authentic piano sound, you need authentic piano touch.

This tradeoff: electronic vs. physical, reminds me of ideas I had posted on my other blog about books versus reading online. To me,

• the piano, and its physical, mechanical action, has a personality
• the piano doesn’t require electricity
• the piano has that… sound

And yet,

• the electronic keyboard has memory (sequencer)
• the electronic keyboard can change sounds (and mimic different acoustic spaces)
• the computer can play the electronic keyboard

So, there are advantages to adding electricity, in that you can playback what you recorded, notate it, and mix it up a in the digital domain. The tradeoff as been the sound quality and the feel.

I think with a new tool like Pianoteq, when coupled with a more physical-action minded keyboard, the answer may be all the more compelling.

Lewis Ginter

At the start of May, I visited the Lewis Ginter Botanical Gardens, in Richmond.

Please view my 23 photos on Flickr and let me know what you think!

Washington

I took a few days to visit the nation’s capital and explore fine cuisine.

Created with Admarket’s flickrSLiDR.

We had a great time. Details of the food may be found at MessyCuisine.

iTunes vs. Amazon

With a day off to go shopping from my chair (i.e., online), I began looking to see if I had missed any “Bach” from what I could find in digital downloads.

My two principal places to shop would be the iTunes Music Store and Amazon Digital Downloads.

I started at Amazon. I always look at what they recommend to me, thinking, “that must be all the classical they have.” They love trying to force Keith Jarrett albums down my throat because I once told them I owned a few.

This time around, I simply typed “Bach” in the search window, and it registered some 14K results. I’ve gotten through some 55 pages so far, looking at a lot of albums. Curious to know what some sound like, etc., I of course heard a lot of J.S.B. but also his sons. There’s a lot of Bach out there.

So, I found a recording by the London Baroque. It caught my fancy, and it costs $8.99 through Amazon. It’s offered in their non-DRM, 256kbit resolution (mp3). Just to check, did Apple carry this album?

They sure did. Somehow, despite Apple’s store within iTunes, I found the Amazon searching experience easier. I’d never encountered this CD through Apple’s interface (despite it being years old). Interestingly enough, Apple’s cost is $1 more. Non-DRM (iTunes Plus), and same resolution (albeit in Apple’s preferred AAC format).

I compared other albums, such as those from John Eliot Gardiner’s Bach cantata series. Amazon: $14.99, Apple: $19.98. Same file resolution.

Here I am, an Apple fan (I carry the stickers on my car, the tattoos on my… (just kidding)). Isn’t Amazon the clear choice? For a classical fan, it seems like Amazon just might be the clear winner. For your extra money, you could have Apple’s AAC-encoded tracks, but, thus far it’s only Apple that is suggesting they are in fact a better quality format.

A true test, no doubt, would be to download one of these from each store, compare the results, and see what we have. Of course, it would be my ear against yours, and I am not sure you’d trust my ear. After all, I’m just a guy with a blog. If I had the resources, it would be fun to have a whole room full of folks and test them on the MP3 vs. AAC business. Or not, you could just save yourself some dough buying from Amazon, in lieu of buying plastic and aluminum CDs.

Consequently, I think if I found a recording that was super-special to me, I’d still buy it on CD (it’s roughly 8-10 times more data on CD); I am looking forward to two CDs coming via mail to me right now as I type this.

Now, a few comments on what I don’t like.

1. I found a CD of Bach’s French Suites by Christophe Rousset that seemed to be labeled wrong through Amazon. Skip that.
2. Many times, the Amazon reviews on their digital downloads don’t match the actual recording!! I might be reviewing the London Baroque trio sonats, but the reviews are for E. Power Biggs on the organ. Yowsah.
3. The Amazon album artwork is not always crisp and clear, the Apple artwork from Apple is.
4. Apple sometimes offers a PDF for the CD as liner notes. Amazon, haven’t seen it.
5. The previews for Amazon’s tracks are heavily encoded. You don’t hear the track at the same resolution at which it’s sold. That can be misleading. “Crappy sound, not going to buy,” when in fact, the MP3 you download sounds fine.

No doubt, Apple and Amazon are the biggest competitors right now in the buying model of online music (rather than the rental model). For what I see now, there isn’t any one true, clear winner; Amazon for now is beating Apple through more aggressive pricing and a larger classical catalog.

Stimulating Podcasts?

This thread on Metafilter discusses some intellectually-stimulating podcasts.

I have personally found a lot of great content being podcasted–both by folks who are professionals and those that are amateurs. By amateur, I mean, they aren’t regular talk-radio personalities.

I have found a lot of food/restaurant/cooking podcasts I like. With the advent of AppleTV in my home, I have also found listening and watching new podcasts much easier. Sometimes podcasts are more interesting because they come from amateurs, or they aren’t constrained by the influences that constrain normal radio and television programming.

In the back of my head I’m considering a podcast project that’s aimed at educating.. I’ll let the ideas percolate a bit before saying more.

Il Giardino and the Pisendel Concerto

I found this excellent video on You Tube of IGA performing a difficult Vivaldi concerto for Pisendel, the German violinist.

Mr. Onofri — an awesome, great violinist!

Your opinion is obviously… a vendetta?

Today I was searching for something on Amazon.com: a review of a recording I was listening to. I do this from time to time, as I value the opinions of others, and frankly, Amazon isn’t a bad place to find opinions.

So, I found some comments online by a guy who didn’t much care for Manze’s playing. He gave him credit for being an “academic,” but not a “professional.” I am not sure I agree with the terms used, but I did agree with some points.

I found Manze’s recording of Biber’s Rosary Sonatas a tad anemic, if not down-right boring at times. It also seems that this guy and I both reserve admiration for Musica Antiqua Köln’s recordings.

What surprised me was some of the sharp “attacks” against this guy for his opinion. Does it make sense that everyone has the same opinion about something? On something as subjective as a musical performance? What seemed inconceivable to these folks was that someone could have a differing opinion. They characterized it as a “vendetta” against the performer. Granted, the folks defending Manze were really strong supporters. They wrote as fanatics, themselves. My impression was that whatever Manze put out on Harmonia Mundi, they’d love it.

The passion everyone seems to pour into their opinions is good, I think. What a wonderful place the Internet has become for music lovers to express their opinions. What a great place to see reactions, with opportunities to disagree, agree, or have your own unique reaction. Yet, I too lament the close mindedness we see when someone is convinced that one person’s opinion is simply dead wrong.

Sometimes opinions do reflect wrongs in the world. This rendition by the Jarrett Trio of “Green Dolphin St.” that I’m listening to right now is really good. It’s happy, celebratory music of the highest order. But music is such a personal, subjective entity, I believe, too. You might not like jazz. You might have a more favorite rendition of this standard. You might find the performance fine, but the work sloppy and lacking. What motivates someone to suggest, online in front of the world stage, that someone who differs in opinion has no right to give fewer stars, or disagree with us?

It is tantalizing, I think, to find others that see the world as we do. It can also be scary to find everyone may not see the world as we do. Opinions are always valuable as perspectives.

Brandenburg Madness and the Sunroof

In high school, several of my friends and I entertained ourselves in the car by “blasting” classical music. A prime candidate would be Bach’s third Brandenburg Concerto, and the windows and sunroof would likely be down.

All the better if someone noticed as we passed.

I also recall times I’d spend alone in my room, with the same said music “blasting” out of my little boombox. Not unlike Fraiser Crane and his brother Niles from a particularly funny episode of Fraiser, I’d break wooden hangers (for pants) when air-violin playing that Brandenburg.

Tonight, contemplating some personal dissatisfaction (not with myself, but with the fact that copies of my book have not arrived at my door for me to read, enjoy, or look at), I considered what I could do to deal with this disappointment and resulting stress.

• Buy something (maybe an Apple TimeCapsule)
• Drink something (really not my style)
• Eat something (okay, I had some ice cream, but that doesn’t count, I felt no real lasting benefit)
• Play music loud. (That’s the ticket.)

So, for all of those years that I had to leave the house to hear my classics loud, I’m glad I can now do so in my own home. Yes, and after all those years, Musica Antiqua Köln still plays one mean Brandenburg 3. Pure delight.

Week’s End Thoughts

This Saturday (or was it Friday night?) we were in Grayson (one of our two cars), and a George Winston CD was in the player. My music theory teacher in college would play George’s music (or facsimiles) and make fun of him (as a musician). Nevertheless, some of my songs I was writing at the time were Winstonesque. Despite the style (and his rather brash style on the piano), I connected with what he was doing (because it wasn’t that far from my grasp, and after all, he was successful doing that).

I asked outloud: “Is the bank account empty? Have I spent all of my musical capital? Do I have anything left to say?”

The response I got wasn’t terribly satisfying; I am not sure he understood my question quite right.

I used to sit down at the piano and just create music. I did so almost every day. I had a routine going on in my high school days: come home, watch a little TV, and play the piano until dinner time. It wasn’t focused lessons occupying my time; I simply played because I loved to play.

Today, I don’t play. And probably not surprising–there is nothing left to say. But the question remains: If I sat down and made time to play each day, would I once again find my musical voice, and consequently, find my musical bank account accruing interest?

I don’t know. I am not sure. I think if I stopped blogging, I still might have things to say. They wouldn’t get articulated, for sure, but I might not be any the less prolific a thinker. But you never know.

And here I used to think in graduate school I’d never have enough time to write down all the musical ideas I’ve had. Now, there are few left. I played the piano in public recently while I was away at a conference. It was sad (I mused) that the pieces I played had all been ones I had known/created since high school. There was something special, though, about the experience that likely “woke me up,” and started my thinking process about this.

(A) It was a real piano, and it felt good.

(B) There was a real audience, and the aesthetic aspect of the music came alive. I was emoting while performing.

Tonight I cannot tear myself away from the stereo/hi-fi. I become overwhelmed with all the content available, from podcasts to CD recordings and newly-purchased stuff I don’t yet “know” very well. This Biber recording of his Harmonia Artificiosa-Ariosa is profound; the opening work and opening movement seem to capture my personality, all the more so in the rendition by the Rare Fruits Council.

Its at once thick, rich, rustic, and there’s this line that gets tossed about between the top two players, fighting, coursing, and competing. Who knows what Biber was thinking about here; who knows if he ever heard this music played so fiercely. And would he have ever thought it would have captured the personality of a 21st century writer of trivial thoughts?

Come again?

Today at work, someone approached me and asked me a question I could not respond to, out of both fear and my lack of desire to further insult her.

Wow, your socks actually match your shirt… I have a hard enough time getting the two socks to match, let alone trying to match them with something I am wearing.

Others in the vicinity simply quietly looked at one another, I think everyone with a curled corner of their lip.

Tic Tac

I saw this at lunch today. Says a lot about user interfaces.

Baroque Notes

Yes, I’m at it again, putting notes of things I did in graduate school up on the Web.

This time around, it’s a collection of notes I made to study for my final exam in MUSC 433: Baroque Music (1998, Case Western Reserve University, Dr. John Seuss).

These notes are the distilled essence of what I thought might be on the exam, from lecture notes and readings. It’s condensed, for sure, but if you’re online and trying to find what the so-called “essence” of Baroque music is, the answer is likely in this packet.

Download my notes in PDF format.

Note: I left-in the reverse-side of pages I was reusing, or recycling. I thought they were humorous.

Let’s Sleep

I am very tired. This story makes perfect sense.

I am amazed that we still don’t know precisely why we need sleep.

Bach and the Harmonia Mundi

Hylas: Yes, Philonous, I grant the existence of a sensible thing consists in beingperceivable, but not in being actually perceived.

Philonous: And what is perceivable but an idea? And can an idea exist without being actually perceived?

Bach’s compositional solutions were based in large part on rhetorical components. Such components were based in classical rhetorical theory, rhetoric being one of the other major artforms affected by humanist thought.

Read Bach and the Harmonia Mundi (PDF), a paper I wrote for MUSC 433 at CWRU in 1999.

Musical Expression

A key component to baroque music is expression. You might say it’s an important concept in all musical forms and historical periods, really, but I think what really set baroque music apart was a transformation and codification of affect into musical formulae and the imitation of the human spirit into instrumental sound.

I seemingly have a thing with this concept, looking back. Not one, not two, but three works under my pen on the topic of musical expression.

• Musical Expression in the Renaissance (PDF)
• Musical Expression at Both Ends of the Baroque (PDF)
• Music Expression and Bach’s Brandenburg Concertos (PDF)

These were all written between 1996-1999. The writing of all three papers reflect my intense interest in baroque music, and helped me personally develop my skills for scholarship and academic writing.

Hearing inside your head

A friend of mine recently shared the experience she had when listening to a story on NPR about deaf people who can actually hear.

No, they don’t hear the world around them, but their brains make up songs and sounds when their mental circuitry is underutilized. Making up for no hearing, in other words.

She expressed joy at hearing this because she thought, well, maybe Beethoven could really hear his own music after all! In thinking about this, I meditated on the concept of hearing sound, and more specifically music, in your head.

I have composed many pieces of music in my head. I never wrote them down, I cannot repeat them, but I have had the ability to sit down, concentrate, and make up complete pieces of music in my head.

The problem with me, it seems, is that the sound is not quite as rich, or dimensional as it is when you actually hear real music. Something less than monaural, something less than mono and black and white. But the friend was convinced by the story that deaf people have a better, more dimensional experience, than I ever could.

I have no doubt Beethoven could hear the music he wrote in his head. He was a genius, no matter what, but he found a way to communicate the passion of his creativity with others by transcribing his musical ideas. The question remains, however, was it “as good” as authentic hearing with ears. I doubt it. To me, that isn’t the sad part. The sad part is that he may never have been able to confirm for himself by hearing it with his own ears.

Music 423

Among the classes I took in graduate school, many were less challenging, intellectually speaking, than many undergraduate courses. Yet, there remains one course that challenged me the most, Music 423 at Case Western Reserve University in 1997 with Professor John Seuss. The class was one centered on musical history and philosophy and aesthetics. It started out with 5 students in the class, and on the last day, when we had to do student presentations, there were just 2 of us left.

Using my new Fujitsu ScanSnap, I’ve decided to post my 3-ring binder for this course online for others. It’s a rich trove of thought. Perhaps you can find it more useful than I have.

Music 423 Notes and Binder (PDF - 50 MB).

Ratings

I believe it is within human nature to rate things and find their place (their relationships) to others in the same category. I am no expert at this, and this might be obvious, but I came to this realization today driving home.

I have friends who work for a company that assigns a level to employees’ status within the company. They use the label “tier.” I should say “used to,” as now they’ve switched to titles, but everyone still uses the tier number. Often, if you bring up someone’s name, and they are unfamiliar, their tier is mentioned as a way to identify them. Everyone immediately knows how they rate compared to everyone else, in regards, at least, to experience, pay, or rank.

When I review a restaurant, and strictly speaking, we’re talking about the food (70%), value (5%), and the service (25%), I assign a number of stars. 5 levels. In the company, they have 8 tiers. And today, a friend says she rates people along 4 levels.

“They range from very attractive down to someone so hideous, it’s disgusting.” Wow. But I learned that this system wasn’t talking so much about physical appearance, as a more complex algorithm that defined them as a person. “By attractive, I mean someone who you want to speak with, talk to; you enjoy their company; by repulsive, I mean someone who doesn’t make sense, is always a downer, and treats people like garbage.”

I found it interesting that if we rate things, we apply plateaus or levels to the rating. This seems to be a big part of the system at play.

• Restaurants and movies, 5 stars
• Hot or Not, 10 levels
• Personal Qualities, 4 levels
• Work Organization Chart, 8 levels

I think what folks are doing is approximating where something belongs along a continuum, between polar opposites. It’s like in iTunes, where I can assign 1-5 stars to a song. We all seem to understand this rating concept pretty well, either because it is in fact part of human nature, or else, it’s so common in today’s society.

I find it difficult, however, to rate music. I certainly have some favorite songs/works, but where do you draw the line? In classical, at the movement level? Or the entire work? For pop, is it the whole album, or just one song? Many times when I’m rating pictures I took with my camera, I start with a binary filter: good and bad. Then I might take the goods and split them into two levels. Now we have bad, good, and great. And we could keep doing this, diving down, splitting hairs, for just about anything we might want to find along some continuum we’ve dreamed up.

When I review an album here on biberfan.org, I typically do not give it a rating. I find it too difficult in music. And I’d have a hard time rating someone–a real person–too, at least on the holistic type of qualities my friend identified. Physical appearance is one thing, but personality, empathy, intelligence, and personality are far too confusing.

What if you took, however, 5 people (or 5 recordings) and then were asked to put those in order: from least favorite to most favorite… might you favor recordings you’ve lived with longer? Or might the bias go the other way, to the newest, most arresting new recording? And with people: I can’t imagine if I had been in love with someone, who died, then fell in love again, and was asked to put those in some order… wouldn’t you have to pick the person you were still with? Or if you didn’t, would you be so honest?

I think the human nature portion of ratings work on one level that’s pretty incredible. Walking down a busy city street, I can see plenty of folks I might find attractive, and if the sample is small enough, I could probably pretty quickly put them into some order. I might be just as good with short excerpts of music. But when asked to articulate the reasons why, and to scrutinize the details, I think it all becomes more complex.

And lastly, what does it say of us who do rate things? Is it a undesirable behavior to be articulating this rating business? In writing this little essay, I know I’ve admitted to myself too many times I might be in a constantly rating mode. Hyper-critical, perhaps. Luckily, I don’t think reviewing some CDs is too bad… but I’ll stay away from more touchy or controversial things.

Here’s Looking at You

Here’s Looking at You.

People describing people they are looking at.

All the Beethoven

In Japan, this new year’s, you could hear all of Beethoven’s symphonies at one concert, to celebrate the coming of a new year.

I’ve often thought of planning listening for a day along some crazy path like this… listen to one particular work (say, one complete Bach violin sonata), on repeat the whole day. I remember when I was still a teenager, I tried listening to all of Bach’s Goldberg Variations on very low volume, to sleep by. It didn’t work, I had to turn it off.

Cotton Swabs and Shower Gel

I confess I am a particular person. That is, particular about brands, sizes, and the precise nature of things I see, use, and consume. The kind of fussy person who has to have things “just so.” I’m not obsessive about it, but I do sometimes get teased.

I like Q-tips brand cotton swabs. I use one just about every day. Now, we can quibble about them marketing these things as “beauty applicators,” but let’s face it, I use them to clean-out my ears. After a hot shower, nothing feels better than to swab-out each ear canal for that “out of your ears” fresh feeling.

So, when I went to visit my parents this past season, I asked for some “Q-tips” for while I was there. What I was presented with were “Publix” brand cotton swabs.

These might be fine for applying makeup or lipstick (who would do this?), but not so great for the ears. What’s the difference? They bend! You can’t get the leverage to press these against anything because they all bend in the center. Wortheless!

It is always so interesting to stay in another person’s/family’s home. So many things that you are used to, are different. Super-thick toilet paper. Puff’s tissues in every room. Super-fruity shower gels.

Last year when I went to visit, I made a list of gripes from the trip, and high on the list was the selection of shower gels. I commented that they used a shower gel with some awfully sweet, fruit-flavored smell that no man, woman, or child would like to smell like.

I am sad to report, things aren’t much better.

There was promise, of course. Upon getting into the shower, I saw a new bottle of Caress brand shower gel. The bottle said “Tahitian Formula.” The first thing that came to mind was Tahitian vanilla. A warm, soothing scent, no doubt.

Instead, the bottle was orange/red colored, and what came out smelled exactly like Hawaiian Punch fruit beverage. I don’t know about you, but bathing in Hawaiian Punch doesn’t make me feel clean. To make matters worse, the gel was peppered with these red corpuscles that looked like droplets of oil. They were some sort of “exfoliating microbeads” to help you shed-off dead skin. I didn’t care for that. There were too few of these to do an effective job.

I actually looked up this stuff online, and found a number of “customer reviews.” Some folks actually like this flavor, and one I remember reading, went to great lengths to find other products by other manufacturers to “go along” with that scent.

Everyone has a different measure of taste, and all I’m really saying here is… of all the toiletries my family and I have in common, there is only one. We both like the thicker, “livin’ large” Puffs-brand tissues.

Evidently my stunt from our last visit of replacing every toilet paper roll with Scotts-brand tissue didn’t change any minds.

Technorati Tags: rant, family, toiletries

Coffee Talk

Many people spoke to me (in person) about the extended rant on the coffee/espresso maker I wrote about earlier.

Because this is just, you know, so important, I’ll give an update.

Tonight, we purchased a special glass container with a pouring spout to collect our extracted espresso. It has no measures on it, but it is better than any other vessel we had on hand, to collect the liquid.

We have moved the machine from the dining room to the kitchen. This has facilitated both better clean-up and better use of the machine.

Mixing-in some Dulce de leche hot chocolate mix makes for a nice tasting mocha-inspired latté.

We found, but did not (yet) purchase, a larger metallic container for milk frothing at Crate & Barrel, with an included thermometer for measuring the milk temperature.

This morning, I visited Starbucks, and watched the barista froth up her milk.

Lingering issues for me:

• amount of cleanup (typical complaint)
• amount of espresso extracted from one single pod (must look into double pods, or grind, grind…)
• using microwave to pre-heat the milk

It makes good strong espresso which has kept me up until 2 AM this morning. I might restrict use to morning hours.

An Update on my Troubled Thoughts

Earlier this week, I wrote about topics that were troubling me, among them, what to do about a gift I received for the holidays.

I wanted to update you on these topics, because if you read that, well then, you’ll likely value a resolution.

First, I have spent considerable time and attention to this very blog. I even started using blog software again (MarsEdit). So I am poised to blog, with so much banter, my buttons are ready to pop-off. That could also be holiday feasting at play, but I certainly digress.

Second, I have spent considerable time and effort reading and educating myself about espresso machines and coffee. I even went to Williams Sonoma and talked to the lady there for quite some time about espresso makers, received demonstrations, and sample tastings.

Last night I made a decision on the gift. I decided to keep it. I’ll outline how I came to this conclusion, and how it might have been a mistake.

Now, I really want to emphasize how much research went into this personal project. It felt as if, last night, I had amassed enough knowledge to write a Lattés for Dummies book or something. I’d even make the book cover here to be clever, but the generator is currently offline.

So, here are some general facts.

• There are three basic types of expresso machines: manual, semi-automatic, and fully-automatic.
• Better machines use a pump-system that provides a constant stream of pressure to extract the espresso.
• 15 bars of pressure is good, and typical for many machines.
• Manual machines require you to measure, scoop, grind, and tamp your own coffee beans.
• Semi-automatic machines may also require the nonsense with coffee, but typically spit-out just the right amount of espresso into your cup. Others use pods.
• A pod is a pre-measured, pre-tamped single serving of espresso in some kind of container.
• The fully automatic systems hold the water and beans, grind the beans, tamp the grounds, auto-measure the precise amounts, and dispense the drink all with a touch of a button (or two).
• I have little interest in creating espresso. I want to create lattés.

Okay, so that’s a little background for you. I went into the store, and told the lady I had received the gift, but was not sure “it is the best machine for my needs.” Soon thereafter, she became quite unhelpful, suggesting that the machine I got was no-fuss, but the fancy fully-automatic ones were complex, fussy, and probably not what I needed.

She became more helpful later with the demos.

Here are some more facts, more or less, as I remember them.

• There are four major types of pods for the semi- and fully-automatic machines.
• The fact that there are four tells you something: that grinding and tamping and preparing your own beans must be so disconcerting and time-consuming (not to mention messy) that you’re going to wish later you had a pod-based system.
• Tassimo is a pod-based system using something called a T-pod that only works in Tassimo-branded machines. These make single-serving cups of a variety of beverages, from regular coffee, to tea, chocolate, and also latté.
• Senseo is a competing product that also make single-serving drinks, but primarily just coffee. They take Senseo pods, which are different from the Tassimo pods. You can also get T-pods for the Senseo, but these are not Tassimo pods, but curiously-named pods for tea to use in your Senseo.
• Nespresso is an espresso-only line of pods exclusively for use in Nespresso-branded espresso machines. They tend to be the most expensive. You have to order them online or by phone. Williams Sonoma sells a variety of these machines.
• ESE Pods are a filter-based pod for use in many espresso machines. It seems the most “open standard” in terms of espresso/coffee makers. They too are single serving for one “shot” of espresso.

I had of course been considering buying a Jura-Capresso machine. These do not use pods at all. But they are simple to use. They are fully-automatic, and range in price from $800-4000. I’ll talk more about why the price differs and why all these choices are kind of silly, when you consider what I really want to do: make lattés.

The manual machines and the super-expensive Jura machines promise to make, perhaps, the best “tasting” espresso because in both cases you can use just-ground coffee. In looking at all the machines, dizzy as I was, I asked for help at Williams-Sonoma. Our sales agent immediately suggested getting the cheapest Nespresso model. I also think she was a hack, because she later told us that she hates espresso and can’t stand it.

Whatever.

She told me the particular model she was showing us was good because it was easy to use, hardly any clean-up, and it boasted some 19 bars of pressure. The espresso came out super-quickly, which confused me, because the snobs online say the espresso extraction should take some 20 seconds, not 5.

She also told me I didn’t need the more expensive “Le Cube” model because it only added cup warmers which were unnecessary. Every cappuccino snob online tells you the heated cups are so important, so I was getting dizzy again. Of course, this was before I dismissed her opinions completely after coming to find she disliked espresso altogether.

She really did not want to sell me a $1700 F-series Jura. That’s what I was after. Just confirm my hunches, lady, and I’ll buy your super-expensive machine… give me something to hold on to here… Nope. Then we talked about the model I had been gifted.

She told me it was a very good machine, should work great, and using it would only take a couple minutes. “Just a couple of minutes?” we asked. “Yes!” she happily confirmed. I mean, come on, I am on the cusp of buying a $1700 appliance (minus the trade-in on the gift) and you’re telling me to stick with gift. You have to admire that… she may have a point.

Then before we left, she told us the reason the Cuisinart was easy to use. “This one takes pods… no grinding or measuring, just pop it in, like the Nespresso… we have pods for this machine over here, let me show you.” She took us over to some Illy pods in a tin.

“Hmm…” I pondered. Pods. Didn’t know a thing about the pods. She didn’t know much either, as she didn’t know they were called ESE pods, or that it was a standard shared by many other brands and makes.

So, I went online to read more and study-up. I was bound and determined to put this cappuccino/espresso/latté project to bed.

This is what I found out:

• Starbucks makes ESE pods.
• People love the Starbucks ESE pods.
• In the Senseo vs. Tassimo war, Tassimo wins: there are simply more options.
• There are some angry, nasty people online who like to bitch and flame online, for folks who didn’t know that ESE pods don’t work in Tassimo and Senseo machines. I can’t blame people, it took me hours to figure out all this pod technology. It’s a royal, confusing mess!
• Some say that a manual machine can produce better quality espresso than a fully-automatic Jura.
• Pods, no matter which brand or style, seem to be “the way to go” in terms of convenience.
• Some reported that using Starbucks pods got them off “their habit,” and saved them money, saving them to make actual trips to Starbucks stores.

I decided that using my gifted machine, with these ESE pods, was the way to go. I’d have convenience, I already had the machine, and all I had to do to get started was find pods.

Last night I drove to two different Starbucks before I found the requisite pods. I came home, next, and opened-up the box for the machine. It came with a DVD detailing how to set-up and use the Cuisinart machine.

Now, mind you, the sales agent at Williams-Sonoma demonstrated only the Nespresso machines. You drop in an aluminum pod, press a button, and hot steamy espresso comes out. No clean up. So, imagine my surprise, upon watching Ms. Rogers on the DVD, when she notes all the clean-up required each time you use the Cuisinart.

You have to clean:

• the handle,
• the pod holder thing,
• the fascia,
• the spout where water comes out,
• the steaming wand,
• and the drip tray.

Then, she (the lady on the video) lies to you with this phrase: You will use this machine every day to make delicious espresso drinks, like cappuccino, macchiato, and lattés!

When I actually went to use the machine, that is when I realized I hadn’t done the right type of research. Williams-Sonoma is not equipped to give you a proper demonstration. They demonstrate the making of espresso. What I needed to see was the creation of latté.

In defense of Cuisinart, the drink was very tasty. It was as good as what I might get at Starbucks, if I were to order a tall or short latté. Except, it was cold. I can work on that a bit, but really, you need a far larger milk frother container to get the milk hot enough with the steam spout.

Here are my complaints, now that I’ve made the choice to keep (and use) the Cuisinart at home.

• The machine is too light. You have to brace yourself against the machine to screw-on the handle.
• Making a “double” espresso with two pods is a royal pain. You have to take off the handle, burn your fingers touching it, and pop out pod #1 while you fish around and try to insert pod #2. Then getting that contraption on the machine again is another feat of strength.
• The machine’s steam wand is dripping.
• By the time the warming tray is “warm,” you’re done. Big whoop.
• The steaming/frothing business is awful. This wand is too difficult to maneuver, especially when trying to get it in and out of the little milk dispenser thing.
• Why is there so much waste (water, espresso) in the drip tray? I have to empty it after each drink.
• How much espresso am I supposed to make? Being a manual machine, you need to put some kind of short, stumpy measuring cup underneath the thing to capture the espresso. Put it into a cup, and you’re just guessing. (Yes, I do not have 1 oz. shot glasses or special single-shot espresso cups. I want latté!)
• My mugs from home do not fit underneath the machine to capture the espresso.
• It looks like I will need to dirty at least 4 containers each time I want to make a latté: the milk pitcher (stainless steel), another milk container for the microwave to heat up the milk), the small stumpy glass/cup (which I don’t yet own), and the actual container (like my to-go coffee mug) that I want to drink out of.
• Can this thing really make a so-called venti latté that’s hot? I don’t see how. I’d have a sink-full of dirty dishes and parts, not to mention the end-product that would have gone cold.

It took me 12 minutes to make a lukewarm double latté this morning. Tassimo? probably a minute.

Here’s where it gets tricky. Nespresso made the drink in under 10 seconds, but this was without the frother. They sell a frothing model (for double the price of the Cuisinart), but it will still require multiple vessels, messy milk residue on the wand, etc., etc.

Here’s where, I think, the fully-automatic machines win: you can specify a double size (not possible with single pods), and you can connect an automatic frothing attachment. They suck-in the milk from a special container, and dump your hot milk and froth right in your cup.

Of course, these machines are like $1700-2700.

So, my point in the end is this: with manual machines, pods or not, making a latté at home is a special-occasion experience because of all the muss and fuss. That’s why I called the lady in the DVD, Ms. Rogers, a liar. By the time you “immediately” clean the machine, your drink is cold and stale. And who has the time to wash 3-4 components each morning? A short latté is hardly breakfast, alone.

It looks like what instead I have is the ability to make good-tasting espresso drinks, at home, but for special occasions only. All the time and energy (and expense) won’t stop my already-frequent visits to Starbucks. Hey, they just built a new one here, with a drive-thru. Sounds like a plan.

I want to thank my friends for the machine, it’s not that I don’t like the gift. I’m just upset with myself for thinking I could affordably reproduce Starbucks from home. I see the value in a fully-automatic machine, but can’t say I’m overwhelmingly willing to part with that much cash.

Technorati Tags: cuisine, coffee, starbucks, espresso, rant

Planes, a New Year, and Julia

Happy New Year. For those of you expecting one of our “Old Year Letters” this year, forget it. I don’t have the patience or stamina to do it. Read this blog instead.

Yes, I have re-designed it for 2008. I stayed up too long and spent too many hours. You better like it, as we’re not going back to “black” (in reference to my earlier template scheme).

In lieu of a letter, I’ve culled some old writings that I believe are real gems. Just days ago, I travelled to Florida to visit mis padres and had an enjoyable experience upon the planes of jetBlue. The check-in was quick, the airplane was spacious (I actually had leg room, and they only have 2 seats per side, nice!), and we each got a TV screen with too many channels to get bored with. Excellent.

But typically when I fly, I get myself into trouble with all kinds of things. This gem was written in July of 2006.

To the lady with long hair who sat in front of me on the 3.75 hour plane ride from Chicago to San Diego:

You ladies are quite a bunch. Frequently, you get the seat ahead of me. Your gloriously long locks are indeed beautiful, you must use Pantene. But for the love of what god to whom you worship, please, be considerate of others. I can understand, despite their bounty of beauty, your hairs do indeed deserve to be put “up” into a bun, collected together with that elastic accessory some call the scrungee.

Yet, when you are fixing your hair just so, it flops about over your seat, and into my face. Your loose hairs meet my legs with the most fanciful follies, as gravity pulls them down. Now your hair is on my lap. Despite all the wonderful things I could say about your hair, the truth is, I don’t like it. On your head, it’s fine. But on me, or falling about in my environs, however small they are in economy class, I am uncomfortable.

To you, dear lady, please keep your hair to yourself. I want none of it.

Yuck, hair! I also found an archive from August 1, 2006, some notes after reading Julia Child’s last book:

It has taken me some time, but just minutes ago I finished reading Julia Child’s My Life in France, that she wrote before dying, with her grand-nephew. The book surveyed her first, and many subsequent visits to France, and how and why these visits, especially so the first, helped define the second half of her life. She was inspired by her first meal in France, eating a sole fish, that she wanted to learn, taste, and do more: she went to cooking school, wrote a cookbook, taught classes, and eventually became a TV personality. She’s pretty honest about her feelings and her what not in the book, so I think you get a pretty accurate sense of who she was. Some biographers paint themselves as someone you of course agree with; Julia showed us more, warts and all. The writing of the book does a good job at summarizing the pages and words with a point: cooking and eating can be a life-changing experience, and always eat well. Watching her on TV when I was a kid (in her PBS shows), I never figured she knew much… she always seemed to be learning from others. The truth was, she was, and she knew quite a bit. She seems like someone who would have been a great pleasure to meet and dine with, or if nothing else, to simply chat for awhile. A highly recommended read.

Foot Foot Massage

Stuck as I was, in a city of multinational citizenry, with tired, wet, cold feet, our trip to Chinatown started with a pre-dinner visit to the local accupressurist.

Yes, in big cities you can find experts in Eastern medicine to soothe the savage barking our flat feet endure. Ever since watching a John Candy movie, and when I have sore feet, I always proclaim “the dogs are barkin’!”

So up the stairs we went (it seems in these places, it’s either up or down stairs), and I found a woman in waiting. She smiled, as if some ancient proverb had forecasted my arrival on this rainy evening. “What is your problem?” she asked me, in English, but with a heavy Chinese accent.

Taken aback by such a question, I smiled, tenderly out of fear, and said, “It’s my feet, the feet are my problem.” I somehow felt like George Costanza telling her this. Vulnerable and stupid.

“Come this way…” I walked down a hallway, and she opened a door. She asked me to take off my shoes, my socks, and to roll-up my pants. “Have you had dis done before?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Feet, right?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“4 minute, be ready!”

She told me this, with a little bit of a command in the diction. I went to work, contemplating the joy that might follow, when the sore, inflamed dogs might be soothed by the knowledge of an Eastern master in accupressure.

What I wasn’t prepared for was a foot massage.

Let me say that again, more precisely. A foot foot massage. That’s right, my friends, a foot massage with feet.

An older man came into the room, and said “Hello!” so clearly and happily that I wagered it might be the only English he knew. He sat in a chair, some distance from the table where I sat after he pulled on my arms and hands. He then motioned for me to sit up, and not to lay down.

He was wearing bamboo sandals, I noticed, when he took them off, and rubbed his feet with a towel. “Hmm… my feet or yours?” I thought. My thought bubble burst when he turned around, and grabbed my feet almost violently… with his own feet.

He was crafty, I’ll say, cracking my feet, and finding the places that commanded attention… I giggled outloud, and he smiled at me. It was not a pleasure giggle, but one reflective of the novelty of receiving a foot foot massage.

“I ought to write about this experience,” I thought, as the massage continued. What struck me the most was how this man used his chair, rocking back and forth, and even on one leg, to position himself just so, to manipulate my own feet, just so. Instead of sitting, really, he used his arms to hoist himself above the seat. The massage lasted almost 30 minutes, and ended with a cool cream on my own feet–applied by hands.

I wasn’t sure if this massage was given by mistake (she had asked me about the feet), or this was simply de rigeur, but it was curiously just what I needed to break up a long day on my feet, before a Chinatown dinner.

Charlie Osgood Owes me an Umbrella

This morning, from my bedside, I watched CBS Sunday Morning as I do many Sundays, and on this particular Sunday, Charlie Osgood was telling me about an art exhibition at the National Gallery of Art on the British painter, a Mr. Turner, who supposedly, was one of Britain’s best painters. I casually asked “would you like to go?” and the next thing I knew, I was washed, dressed, and out the door on the way to Starbucks.

Yes, and from there, to Washington, D.C.

Our Osgood adventure had us stop at Springfield to get the Metro train.

When we emerged near the museums, it was raining. Damn you, Charles Osgood! I swore, now cold and wet. It was quite a trek to the NGA. By the time we made it, I was chilled, breathing deeply, and soaking wet. We hadn’t brought an umbrella nor any kind of hats.

When we got inside, there was quite a line to see this art by the so-called Turner.

Upon exiting, we took a taxi in the (now more robust) rain to the subway. I had originally desired to eat in the city, but now that it was still raining, that was out.

Back to Springfield, and back on a stuck I-95 drive home.

Now, I’m home, dry, and warm, listening to some Buxtehude. Was Turner worth it? Well, not really, but it was good to know that Charlie could get me out of bed and send me on a little adventure. And with two servings of Chinese food today, I’m set for the week.

Happy New Year.

I do write blogs, I do.

Several little things have been bothering me today.

1. This blog needs a little kick in the pants. I think with 5 days off from work, I should revitalize biberfan.org. I’m a little tired of reviewing baroque recordings, if you couldn’t tell. Who reads this stuff? I used to get quite a few hits to the old biberfan, when I wrote on three subjects at once.
2. I had a secret blog where I’d write about things that were private, or else, graphic enough I wouldn’t want others to read it. Turns out it wasn’t so secret. Neumann?!
3. Why did I get into this whole blogging thing… ah yes, the stories. Does the name, biberfan, still have any cache?
4. Someone today asks me… after telling them about a restaurant I ate at…. “Did you review it?” Hell yes, I did. What is with that? Don’t these people use RSS readers, or else, visit my food site? How rude, I felt it was, to be asked that. If you ask about someone’s blog and what’s going on there, but don’t visit that said blog, that’s either just lazy or rude. Likely one but not both. I’m still figuring that one out.
5. Cappuccino maker. Tough decision. I’ve been reading all night about these things. Never before after Christmas have I had such “return all the gifts” feelings. I received a cappuccino maker for Christmas. It seems nice enough, but it looks like it will be a lot of work to use it. Let me break out of my numbers here to convey just what’s involved.

A cappuccino maker (espresso with a steamer wand) is a far cry from what they have at Starbucks. I owned a Krups model that kinda stunk. It was all plastic, was from around 1993, and needed some serious cleaning inside. You filled it with water, waited like 5 minutes, and made your espresso. No “crema,” and the frother was tough to use on milk. 2007. Spend more money, but you get a decent pump-based system that does all the same.

• grind beans
• tap (tamp) these ground beans into a little cup
• fuss with getting this cup into the machine
• fill the machine with water
• turn it on, make the espresso
• get the milk out, fill the little tin cup
• change the machine to steam mode
• wait
• steam/froth your milk
• finish by combining the two parts of the latté
• add your sweetner, stir

Yeah, not so simple. There’s a reason, I guess, that I pay Starbucks over $4. And it’s not for the sayings on the sides of the cups. I go there like 5 times a week. I like:

• lattés, triple lattés
• white mochas
• chai lattes

Those are my boys. So I’ve seen these totally automatic machines at Williams-Sonoma et al. Seems the Jura-Capresso is the big daddy brand, and among those, various levels, E, F, S, and Z. There are probably more. Who cares. Tonight I read all up on them. Seems I’ve mentally settled on the S series, which can take a lot of abuse, and uses a dual-tank system so that steam and coffee making can happen without any wait.

But this thing is $2300. That’s +$2050 more than what I have now costs. Who is to say it will make a better latté?

But it will save time.

It grinds the beans, filters the water, tamps the grounds, froths the milk, etc., etc., all but add the sugar. You want another latté? Just hit the button. You’ll have lattés coming out your ears, just by pushing some buttons.

But I don’t have $2050 sitting around waiting for a super automatic machine… but if I was going to buy an espresso machine, that’s the one I’d want.

So, do I pull out all the money for the ultimate machine? Or keep the one I received? Or just return it all, and get the money? Because there is plenty more to buy.

Copper wire. A new camera. Trips this year. Bagh. Next year, I’m going to vote for Festivus. You don’t have to exchange gifts, try and keep secret blogs, and you still get to feast at a meal.

Here’s to 2008: more banter.

Trip

I am on my way back from a trip to Florida, where I spent the holiday with my parents.

We enjoyed ourselves, playing Wii games, listening to Bette sing Christmas carols, and eating pricey ham.

I am glad the ham passed my mom’s “best in my life” category for taste and flavor.

On the music front, I acquired a new CD (actually, a reissue) of music by Kapsberger by Onofri and friends on Das Alte Werke. I look forward to listening to that upon arriving home in Virginia.

Religion by Germany, Japan, and Venezuela

The combination of:

• El Rey 74.5% chocolate, with
• Japanese Sencha Green Tea, listening to
• Ton Koopman perform Bach’s BWV 542 (Great G minor prelude and fugue)

is a warmly moving, almost religious, experience. The floral notes in the chocolate are mimicked in the tea; the chocolate complex, the tea, cleansing and warm, the music a texture denoting luxury and height. Religious? Well, what entity created all of these great things that so well seem to fit together?

Double Pitch

Tonight while driving home from dinner, I discovered that my favorite jazz CD was out of tune. The trombone and sax players were not at the same pitch center. How could this be? Was it my stereo?

No, it was my ears! With sinus stuffiness, my right and left ear interpreted the music at different pitches. Turning the stereo off, and singing high-pitches, I heard “two” people, many cents apart in pitch.

This has never happened to me before and I hope it goes away soon.

iTunes “Plus” Upgrade

Today when I logged-into the iTunes Music Store, I was alerted that I could “upgrade” two albums I had purchased to their newer, higher-quality “Plus” tracks for $6. This upgrade would improve the quality, supposedly, and remove the DRM-restrictions.

I took the bait. I was disappointed that this music was only encoded originally at 128kbits. And unlike Amazon’s VBR-encoding that “changes” the encoding depending upon the complexity of the material, Apple’s are all 256kbit encodes.

(Yes, I know, VBR can provide better over-all quality, and I have many tracks encoded in VBR, but at substantially higher bit-rates.)

One problem: as iTunes started to download these new replacement tracks, it locked up, and was not behaving.

After force-quitting and restarting, I had to visit my account to renew the downloads, and it locked up again. After force-quitting a second time, I upgraded to the latest copy of iTunes, and the third try was successful.

I like the freedom… iTunes or Amazon… DRM-free. I think any competitor needs to follow in these footsteps… to offer DRM-free music, at competitive prices, that play on all players. “Technology independent,” in other words. If Universal, Microsoft, Real, or anyone else doesn’t get it… I don’t think they’ll be successful.

Mii

I think I look a lot like my Mii.

Sleepy Music

Driving home from a long trip, I had several CDs in rotation in the car. Among the selections were an album from Dave Holland Big Band (jazz), Biber’s Rosenkranz Sonatas, and some wind concertos by Vivaldi. First up was the jazz, and the following comment came forth from my traveling companion.

This music is sleepy music… (He proceeds to sing the repetitive “lick” on the current track.) You see, this is music isn’t good for keeping you awake.

It was true, we were both tired and in need of an afternoon nap. But this, to my ears, was hardly “sleepy music.”

Next up, the Vivaldi. I think the disc was played by Zefiro, which means passages normally embellished by the violinist (director), or harpsicordist (director) were gone, and instead, liberties were taken with the woodwind lines (say, I don’t know, the oboe). Their fast movements are full of energy and drive, yet, their slow movements are pastoral, for sure.

It’s Vivaldi’s fault, but some of those are sleepy.

Somehow in comparison, Biber wasn’t sleepy. I’d lend it to the fact his repetitive chunks are smaller and “all over the place,” to quote my companion. Historically, Biber’s “Fantastic” style gave way to the structure we see in ripieno-formatted concertos. It’s just that the little motivic ideas in Biber get expanded to be whole phrases that repeat in Vivaldi.

It’s amazing what lessons are learned when trying to fight-off sleeping at the wheel.

Great Bach

This weekend I’ve been listening to some music; some of which I have neglected for some time. Too many times I surf the web while listening, and in doing so, miss many details.

This time around I stopped surfing, because the music was so arresting.

Pierre Hantaï on his second recording of the Goldbergs on Mirare; Rachel Podger on Bach’s solo Sonatas & Partitas. Hantaï is special for the little flourishes he adds; a great sounding instrument, and articulate, fast fingers.

Podger has a very blooming-sounding violin (thanks to her acoustic playing space), and isn’t a timid player. You can tap your foot to her Bach; and all the time, it’s easy to listen to and full of dynamic interest.

Who knows if Manze will ever record the S&P of Bach; but I think I’d like this one better.

I have been whipped…

The biberfan house has been occupied of late, with what you might ask? We bought into the Wii-bug. But we cannot find a Wii to buy. I know I’m not alone, for sure, but how frustrating this is.

Today, I hit my limit with 5 stores. No Wiis to be found. And here I thought “Sunday” must be the day… it all started Friday, then Saturday, visiting GameStops, WalMarts, and Target stores. They sure have the games, but where are the consoles?

A friend of the Fan of Biber got one some weeks ago at a Target. It played like something rather cool and new, a refreshing experience, for sure. And when you touch an iPhone, you want an iPhone. Wii isn’t much different, for that feeling, at least.

It’s even cheaper than iPhone.

ToysRUs promised them in today, but alas, the lady simply reported today: “No, we don’t have any.”

They have remotes, numchucks, steering wheels, oodles of games, and even Wii backpacks. But where is the stupid game?

I will say, the quest to get one has been infectious and a curious adventure. But my sense of ability in this game of Wii-dom has come to a quick end, I am afraid. My tired feet can’t keep me in the race.

iTunes and Ringtones

As I have said many times before here, I enjoy my music through my computer. My Mac. And yes, I have an iPhone which I also use to enjoy music, in addition to using it to take photos, or surf the Web.

I think a discussion about my experiences are warranted. Especially so now, I feel I have something to say, with regards to this latest “addition” to the phone, the concept of “ringtones” and buying music online through the iPhone itself.

First, the iPhone+iTunes is flawed for a user like me. When I sync the phone, I want iTunes to do some heavy lifting (like it already does with my iPod Shuffle) by re-encoding the tracks I sync on the fly to their lower-resolution cousins. Instead, iTunes does not do this, and I have had to manually create a sub-set of tunes specifically for the phone.

This functionality is not necessary with my larger iPods that store data on hard disk drives.

With this flaw aside, it is a very nice iPod; in fact, I’d say it’s near perfect: it allows me to browse the cover art, change tracks, and sort by composer or by CD. Yes, I cannot use audiophile headphones with an adapter, but… I use it more for casual listening anyhow, waiting for something, at the gym, etc. Small flaw.

The news that you will soon be able to buy songs online through the phone ,and at Starbucks locations, is not necessary, but welcome. Why not be able to buy music while you’re sipping coffee, with a magazine, work, or just hanging out? (And furthermore, why not use the trusted system iPhone is using to purchase other products?) The idea that the actual song that is playing will be identified on my iPhone is pretty darn cool. Kudos to Apple and Starbucks at making a partnership that seems pretty sophisticated, under the counter.

Mind you, I don’t purchase many iTunes tracks (I’m fussy and like to buy CDs), but the power to purchase is convenient, for when I do.

So, yes, to start: the iPhone gets 4.5 stars from me, and these further developments this past week help cement the iPhone as a solid product that I like.

We needn’t mention the price drop. Ouch. But the store credit is better than nothing, and will silence my initial shock and disappointment.

But I will speak-out against the Ringtones scheme. iTunes doesn’t need more bloat by adding a sound editing piece to custom-make your ringtones! And the idea of double-paying for a ringtone? Outrageous, by any stretch of the imagination.

I realize they have to do this because the recording industry has convinced someone at some point that artists deserve cash for their songs used as a signal rather than as music to be enjoyed. I don’t agree with it. A sound recording is a sound recording. If I can legally play it, then I want to legally play it.

So, I was happy to hear of a new “fix” with iTunes that allowed folks to create their own MP4 audio files, and change the extension to “.m4r” to make the audio file a ringtone. iTunes would do the lifting and install it for you. Simple enough, if you have the sophistication of knowing how to edit sound files.

I don’t necessarily want pre-recorded music on my phone as a ringtone. I might want my own voice, or my own music, or my own sound effects. And Apple’s now going to change the software so I can’t do this?

It seems silly that Apple makes software to allow you to make your own music/audio (Logic, GarageBand, SoundtrackPro), but won’t give you the tool to move that audio file to their own phone. We know its technically possible.

But now they won’t let it happen. Yes, I know, I’ve read of ways to “make it work again” but their intent is still there. Copyright law does include a provision of protection for the owner against “public performance” of their works; but why isn’t a 10 or 15 second ring tone “fair use”? Why is a short clip of music on a phone considered “public performance” when many phones have such lousy speakers to make the ring-sound only audible by a small group of people in a crowded room?

Who knows… but I personally find any measures taken my companies to manage how I enjoy my (purchased, legal) media suspect and discouraging.

Stress and Music

Recently I’ve been under some stress. Some of it is self-imposed, some of it is dished-out in the form of work; then there’s the high temperatures, a desire to do good work, and mess, clutter, and daily life intruding.

I had a birthday. It shouldn’t be stressful, but of course, I always manage to make it so.

Everyone seems to have a different way to deal with stress, and some are helpful, others, not so much. I internalize it, I am guessing, whereas one friend in particular, turns to cocktails and wine. My mother has routinely opted for a cigarette, and me? I’ve many times turned to music.

Last year I sought help for a health condition with the use of acupuncture needles. The visits worked like this:

• Sit down in big chair,
• Pull up pant legs,
• Get needles put in legs, arms, and head,
• Lights off for an hour, while soothing music played.
• Lights on, needles out,
• Pay, make next appointment.

Did it work? That’s what everyone asked. It did, and didn’t.

For one thing, it was incredibly indulgent-feeling to take an hour out of your day, to sit, relax, and sit motionless in a room without the lights. For me, it was the closest I had come to meditation, and I found this practice alone, fulfilling.

At home I never do this. I worry about what track is playing in iTunes, or what websites I haven’t yet surfed.

So, I’m writing this now, because I’d like to encourage myself to try this sometime. It’s too bad we can’t do this at work… just veg-out, take a so-called siesta, and give our bodies a re-charge.

The question is: is music required (yes, I think it is, it helps lead the mind, and keep you awake)? And another: what music will it be?

They’ve never played something I’d normally listen to. The same goes for the music I hear in spas. It’s generally world-inspired, calming, repetitive, and… anemic. I think really engagin music might be too stimulating, yet, if the spas and the acupuncturists of the world can find something in-between crap and high-art, I think it we can likely find something in our collections, too.

To my mind, something like some of Keith Jarrett’s longer solo concerts come to mind; especially so his Sun Bear Concerts which are not so totally musically rich. Or his album, Dark Intervals, which for me, is a special one. One of his latest, however, is too jarring, exploring the juxtaposition of dissonant chapters with very concordant ones.

George Winston? Yeah, he’s got a few numbers that might fit. Even some Reich, or Glass, with their repeating patterns, might fit the bill.

What some of these examples have, that for me, others do not, is personal bias for the sound-world they suggest. Chopin, Debussy, Ravel even, might fit the bill for some, but for me they suggest a time period, and one I don’t often enjoy, historically speaking. That bias gets in the way of enjoying the music. Like listening to Bach, my mind becomes very engaged with the content, but instead of enjoying it (like the said Bach), it begins to count the ways I find fault.

You might see one of the patterns that cause me stress in the first place.

Some folks have called me a perfectionist. I find the term a compliment, but I am no perfectionist. I’m far too lazy to always strive for perfection. But I do carry with me perfectionist traits: too much attention to detail, which can get in the way of life.

I think a list from thousands in our own culture, let’s say, if every American, between the ages of 15-45, submitted one “track” of music that “totally” got them to relax and “zone out,” we’d have an interesting ouvre. It might be a valuable resource.

I’ll try sleep now.

Dangerous?

He’s cute. Even scary. But is he dangerous?

While walking through Stanley Park in Vancouver, BC last week, we came along a crowd of people, cameras out, and I pushed my way in to see what the commotion was about.

“This is so dangerous!” I heard a woman caution the crowd… other missives echoed from among the passer-bys, that getting “so close” to a raccoon was dangerous. “Disease!” “Teeth!” “Mayhem!”

I’m feeling under the weather at the moment, but I can assure you, we didn’t swap spit, nor did I get scratched or bitten.

He does look scary.

Despite the warnings, about 30 people were closed-in, snapping photos of this raccoon who was on top of a garbage receptacle, foraging for food among the junk. I too snapped a few; I also kept some distance, in case he lunged for the neck or face of a camera-touting tourist.

And while I agree, getting too close to nature can be dangerous, because let’s face it, some raccoons do carry disease, he did look healthy. And wildlife not in a cage? Is it/was it worth the risk?

That’s the price we pay, for living in urban centers, with “wildness” screened-out and caged for our “enjoyment.” When we encounter the “real thing,” we take risks to capture, well, the unusual.

Sadly, I didn’t encounter bears.

Alaska

I just returned from Alaska.

On the ship was a young Polish quartet called Le Passione, which performed some classical pieces… among them were some barque “standards” and some Piazzolla, which I enjoyed. Their interpretation of the baroque works (Bach, Vivaldi, Pachelbel) wasn’t very “historically” informed, but the audience nonetheless ate it up.

iPhone Improvement?

Blogs are “a flutter” with comments on the iPhone–what people love about it–and what needs improved.

I like the iPhone. AT&T’s coverage could improve, for one. But with the iPod itself, here are a few observations of my own, which I haven’t seen mentioned elsewhere.

• I want to be able to switch between camera and photos without having to go “back home”
• I want to use my iPhone like I currently use iTunes in my listening salon (i.e., stream content to my AirportExpress, or stream the upstairs server’s content to AirportExpress).

Being able to sit down, and pull up tracks from my pocket without a computer in sight, would be awesome. Technically, I think it would be possible (WiFi and music are there), so I think it will only be a matter of time.

After Mr. Vivaldi Eats Dinner

Tonight I’ve made plans to invite a priest over for dinner. Considering I’m not Catholic (should that be a small ‘c’?), I am wondering what Father Vivaldi will make of eating meat tonight. Or is that on Fridays? Well, it might not be any consequence, then. I do consider myself lucky, being able to dine with someone who is bound to be a great conversationalist. I plan on making a lot of Italian favorites, such as spaghetti, veal marsala, etc., and wonder what he might think of my cooking. Typically guests who come over are very pleased with my cooking.

Still interesting, but less important than my skills as a chef, I hope to spend a few minutes in the listening room spinning some tracks (I was about to say discs, but we’re all digital now, so, that wouldn’t be entirely true). I plan on focusing on Don Vivaldi’s most famous concertos, his so-called “Quattro Stagioni” to gather his opinion. What better critic, right, might we find? I picture the conversation going something like this…

• Mr. Vivaldi, I bet that meal brought back some good memories of being back in Venice. Do they cook there as well as I do?

• Sir, your food was fine, but there was too much of it. To be honest, it was all too salty and sweet. Memories? No… we don’t eat food like that in Venice.

• What? Certainly… I mean, it was all Italian… go to any Italian restaurant, and I swear, you’ll find all those things, especially the dessert, tiramisù…

• It was all very interesting. What is this amazing light box you have here?

• Light box? Oh, the computer…

• Computer?

• Yes… we don’t have time to explain all of this. But I wanted to play for you some music.

• That is a musical instrument?

• Not precisely. But I can play-back musical performances. Um… like… well…

• Music is going to come out of that little slab of metal and light?

• Well, no… yes, but.. you will hear it from over there… from those things standing in the middle of the floor.

• Ok… I am getting indigestion, so hurry up.

• I’m sorry.

So, I cue up some of my favorite performances of the Four Seasons, and ask Don Vivaldi to tell me… “Sir, tell me which one of these performances sounds MOST LIKE one you might hear in Venice… oh, and why it sounds like that.”

• There are no musicians here.

• Oh, well… let’s give it a go.

I pull up tracks. He doesn’t say a word, but is instead intrigued by the sound coming forth.

• That’s my winter concerto! But how does that music come forth?

• Well, Mr. Vivaldi, we have technology now… tools… to make a RECORDING of a musical performance. It’s like making a copy of your manuscripts, but we can copy sound, not just ink on paper.

• Amazing…

• Save your comments until you see television. Shall we listen to another?

• Sure!

I play some more.

• Wait… this one is too way too fast… and that one, why does the volume keep changing, up and down… and why in that one… do they slow down at the end?

• Ah, this is great… this is the stuff I need.

• Why? Why does my opinion count?

• You are the composer…

• I’d be more interested in what you think of my playing… I’m a little rusty, but I still think I could do a good job… Do you have a violin?

• No.

[Silence.]

• Mr. Vivaldi, in our time… it’s important for many folks to know what the music you and your generation sounded like. What tempos you followed, what the orchestra sounded like, how many people made up the orchestra, and what, even, your “ideal” sound might have been when writing your works.

• Ah… so you want to go back in time?

• Yes, in a matter of speaking.

• And what if you found you didn’t like what you heard back then? I mean, you now know you can only move people forward, and not backward… so… what if I told you what I heard here today was just tons better than what my seasons sounded like, say, around 1730?

• Did you just say “tons better”?

• I did. I am not sure what it means. But I think you do.

• Ok… you’re right, I can’t go back in time. And you’re telling me this sounded better than it did in your own time?

• Yes.

• But… how? and why?

• For one, everything is well in-tune. With my girls, we never had such good intonation.

• I see…

• And the harpsichord, it’s so clear and loud… it’s not buried under the orchestra.

• That’s mixing for you.

• Mixing? Like what they do to beverages in Harry’s Bar?

• You have been doing a lot of travelling, I gather.

• I get around.

• As does your music. The so-called “Quattro Stagioni” are well known across the world.

• You don’t say?

• I do… but back to the sound. Did you guys use all this “sul ponticello” stuff with, let’s say, “Winter”?

• I don’t recall writing that stuff into the score…

• Right…

• [Vivaldi smiles.] I do love it though… I wish I had thought of that.

• And this?

• A bit hurried. I hear they played my music like that with Pisendel in Dresden.

• Really?

• Yeah… and when the French play, it’s at a lower scale… they play slower, but try decorating everything with more trills and mordents.

• What do you think about that?

• It’s a performer’s world. I don’t mind it; I find all the variations interesting. Some I wouldn’t dare do, because the Italian style is best. But you have to dare to be different to be noticed and appreciated.

• Interesting, fascinating actually. I wanted to ask…

• Wait! Who is this performing?

• An Italian, Fabio Biondi.

• When did he die?

• Die?!

• Oh, he is still living?

• Yes… the recording is only 5 years old.

• Oh… well, I like this… he’s got a very tasteful sound… more French, but with Italian tempi…

• Really?

• I think so.

• I’ve got an Englishman you should hear… a Mr. Kennedy…

• Wow… the English like my music? Figures they haven’t come up with their own in several hundred years… [After listening] I imagine his hair stands on end… does he look rough?

• At times, actually, yes.

• See, it’s about personality. Listen… this music listening is great. But I like to see my musicians… call me back when you’ve invented that, would you? I think it’s time for me to leave… that cheesy dessert is coming up something awful…

• Ok, I do appreciate your visit… take a Tagemet on your way out.

• A what?

• Trust me.

New CDs

I recently acquired some new CDs.

They fall into the following categories:

• Loussier Trio (I decided to just buy it all up)
• Baroque (Bolivian Baroque, Pisendel)
• Jaroussky (Concert for Mazarin, Heroes-Vivaldi)

I’ve already written some on the Jacques Loussier material. The Bolivian Baroque CD by Florilegium is difficult to write about. I picked up the first edition after seeing a spot on CBS Sunday Morning with Ashley Solomon. The story behind the music is a compelling one: music preserved for hundreds of years in the Bolivian rain forest is played, complete with “authentic” Bolivian singers, depending upon your definition of the word. I found the whole description of “who” wrote this music confusing: was it in fact “American” “Indians,” or Italian Jesuits? The music definitely has that turn-of-the-century Italian baroque feel to it. The sound is interesting (it comes on Super Audio CD, I’m listening to the so-called redbook version). It comes with a low-calorie DVD explaining the project, which was interesting.

More Vivaldi is never bad, in this case, I picked up Jaroussky’s latest Vivaldi disc, plus his earlier disc which I purchased for the Onofri on violin: Un Concert pour Marazin. Backed up by Ensemble La Fenice, it contains early Italian works.

I hope to write-up some reviews soon.

Genius you can hear, genius you can read

Tonight while listening to music, I came across a thought in my head:

There must be at least two types of compositional genius: one that you can see by reading notes off the page, and the other, what you can’t recognize on the page, but only feel.

Take Bach’s invention #9 in F minor. You can see some motives skip between the staves, and think “ah, clever, some counterpoint. Yes, there is evidence of some real artistry here.”

To a much more gross level, sticking with Bach, we might look at the contrapuntal complexity in his various contrapuncti from Art of the Fugue. That’s genius you can read on the page.

However, when I performed the ninth invention, I didn’t play it anything like Kenneth Gilbert, or like Masaaki Suzuki do on their recordings. With the enhancement of a sequencer, my performance is faster, but the emphasis is on what I might call “microdetails” in the lines and themes, in some sort of style similar to perhaps Fabio Biondi, with his accents and dynamic nuances added beyond what’s read off the page.

My performance feels especially good. It’s not me, the genius. These are qualities already in the music Bach wrote.

I feel the best performances realize both the feel and the page genius. Too many great songs being played on radios today have the appeal of feel, however, and no artistry of what’s on the page. That is what I think makes Bach unique… he had both, more often than not.

Joshua Bell in Washington, D.C.

What happens when you place one of the world’s best violinists in a subway?

Read the Washington Post article to find out.

I found this article fascinating. It’s a long one, but a great read. It’s only enhanced through the video clips.

A Delicious Bite

Impatience has me searching of late for single tracks that have maximum punch.

I look for tracks to listen to that have that “delicious bite,” like a refreshing cool breeze, a warm touch, or that quality that ensures a calm, wide grin to appear across your face.

One of my more favorite ones comes from Monica Huggett’s recording of the Biber Mystery Sonatas, first disc, to be precise. First track, in fact. Towards the end, the continuo strikes this nice lusty, sweet chord, and it lights a bloom in the room (no rhyme intended) that simply sounds awesome.

It lasts for like a second. But that sound bite is delicious, for sure.

The Fibonacci’s

Back in 1998, I wrote three fanfares based on the Fibonacci Sequence. I imported them recently into GarageBand, and arranged them a bit with different instrumentation.

Fanfare #1 and Fanfare #3 (MPEG, Quicktime required).

Other Fans

Someone recently asked me a question. Okay, they asked me a series of questions.

1. How much money do you make with your biberfan site?
2. How many people visit your biberfan site?

When I told her the answers, she asked yet another:

Why do you spend time and energy on your biberfan site?

I remember reading somewhere about the Read/Write Web and blogging: no matter your interest, if you share your passion about it through blogging, there will be some audience.

My only thought is… this site would be so much better if it was many voices rather than one.

I tried this at my Messy Cuisine site (link). I gave logins to several friends who said they’d like to blog about food–specifically, restaurant reviews. To this date, not one has contributed something.

Geeze.

I’d love to get other writers about Baroque and Classical music to review online here with me. I’d manage things, have a couple ounces of editorial control, but otherwise would support more writers.

Whaddya think?

Ah, the memories…

This website offers readers a historical presentation of the Apple mice. Yes, I got nostalgic looking at everything from the Lisa mouse, to the hockey-puck iMac mouse. I thought when I went to the page, I’d have a favorite. But looking them all over, they each brought back fond memories.

If I had to pinpoint just one: Mighty Mouse best Apple mouse. And Apple Extended Keyboard II, best Apple keyboard. I’m using both now, so I should be happy.

Goebel BWV 1079 Videos

I found some of Musica Antiqua, Köln on You Tube. Here they are in a short Bach canon from BWV 1079, the Musical Offering. Damn, they could play.

Mac Daddy

I miss writing about Apple stuff since devoting this blog only to music. So, excuse this, but this is good.

The anti-trust case in Iowa against Microsoft shows just what kind of company Microsoft is.

They seem to admit that Apple has all the goods before they do, and Apple seems more correct in saying “Microsoft: Start your photocopiers now.” Microsoft shows very little innovation in the personal computer OS. They simply lust over what Apple already has, and it even makes them drool.

How much time?

How much time do you devote to listening? And I do mean, serious, unadulterated listening? In academia, we called this “active listening.” Do we have enough time in life to enjoy recordings?

I’m making great progress on my CD scanning project–re-ripping CDs, and scanning their covers for inclusion in iTunes, but how many really get a good, serious spin?

Tonight I decided to focus on Concerto Italiano recordings, after reading a piece/interview with Alessandrini, the director. He started his Concerto Italiano, evidently, with Fabio Biondi. I much prefer Biondi’s readings, but CI can be elegant and a little less intense.

I had a good discussion at work recently about listening to music, and multitasking. A colleague reported always doing school work as a child with music or television. We today both manage multitasking well, but I still think the quality of my work improves without distractions. Listening to good music, like this track of CI performing a Bach cantata sinfonia (from the A Portrait CD), only grabs my full attention, and writing/concentration is all lost.

Steve Jobs Stylus iPhone Song

Listen to one Mac-fan’s rendition of a song with snippits from Steve Jobs’ Macworld keynote speech.

We’re Waiting, Uncle Steve

From the Joy of Tech.

Messy Stuff

Your anxious host, the venerable Fan of Biber, invites you to our companion site, MessyCuisine, where you can once again visit for restaurant reviews, and soon, more episodes of the Messy Chef.

Bon appétit!

Did I kill it?

This morning I logged-in to view statistics for the site since I last changed it to the new “biberfan noir” theme here. My nice little graph of hits diminished to nothing… 0 visits for 5 days, and counting.

Seemingly, by pulling away food and personal writing from the site, I killed off any need to visit. You all hate musique baroque?

That was my conclusion. But that isn’t necessarily the case. Seems that I forgot to include Google Analytics code in the new templates. All fixed. Now, if it stays at zero, I’ll know I made a horrible mistake.

What else is new? Holidays and book writing can suck up time. I had hoped to start my new food/messy chef site this weekend. We’ll see. Yesterday when I got back from a conference, I felt exhausted. Too little sleep. I slept until 10 AM this morning.

When the food site with Richmond, VA-based Restaurant reviews goes live, I will announce it here on biberfan.org. I hope to enlist the help of family members over the holiday with transferring some old, yet valid reviews to the new site.

Manze to leave EC in 2007

I recently read on the English Concert’s website that director/violinist Andrew Manze will be leaving in 2007 to pursue work in Sweden, including conducting.

This is an interesting twist, as Manze just took over the ensemble in mid-2003 and seems to be doing an admirable job, after directing the rival AAM in London.