Shiitakes and Criminis

I like mushrooms; here: crimini and shiitake mushrooms.

Bach Project

Some interesting videos on Zenph Studios’ Bach project.

December Update

I’ve simply been too busy lately to put a lot of work into this site. For two days the site went “down,” because I missed re-newing the domain name. That shows you the love I’ve been pouring into maintaining my love for Biber and other musics.

It’s not that I simply don’t have time; I obviously have the time everyone else has. It’s been time, however, that I’ve felt less capable at being creative enough to sit down and write. I hope that changes significantly in 2010.

I just returned from visiting my parents south of here, and under the tree, Santa left me a pair of Sennheiser 650 headphones. I’d been using their 580 model for a number of years, the 650 is a similar design, but two notches up in their lineup. At some point, it was their best headphone; today it is eclipsed by the $1300 Sennheiser 800. I didn’t think the 800 was worth the price upgrade, at least in the application I have now.

The plane touched down at 11:00 PM on Sunday night, and now it’s 12:01 Monday morning… I’ve got the pair plugged-in, and already, I notice quite the improvement over my older trusty 580s. Clarity, more stereo separation, and even a little more comfortable. Better defined bass, too. Now, after a week of intense listening, I should be ready to really report on these.

While visiting my parents, my mom bought us all tickets to go see Barrage, an ensemble of five violinists and backup (percussion, bass, guitar). Started out of Calgary, Alberta (not far from the Banff Center), this group played a two-hour show with Christmas songs and some of their more upbeat, standard repertoire. For the most part, the musicanmanship was high and the emotional impact strong.

My dad thought their outfits were a tad lackluster. He evidently wanted something more flashy and show-y. They do a lot of moving around in the show, including dancing, jumping, and twisting about in various formations. While in some cases this choreography was entirely appropriate and apropos to the music, at times, it also looked contrived and overdone. The music, you see, stood on its own without the theatrics.

As my mom said, “The energy and music kept the momentum up the entire evening,” and this was true. You never grew bored, and despite the fact they did include some lower-energy numbers, it all fit together well. Some members of the ensemble would go to the synthesizer to augment the ensemble’s sound closet, and they also all used microphones either to sing, talk to us, or shout throughout the production.

They have a full International lineup planned through March, 2010. If they happen to come through your town, I’d recommend them—no matter your musical taste.

So your friend is moving?

My friend wrote me that her close friend is moving. She didn’t say she was sad, but I know she is disappointed. But, now her friend will be closer to family.

This is what I wrote. I thought it would make an interesting blog post.

That’s too bad. Friends moving away is bad.

I managed to sit out on the deck for 35 minutes today. I hate the outdoors, but today was the prime today to soak in the sunlight. I read a few chapters of Steingarten. When I read him I wish I could be a food writer. I have too many blogs that now all lack passion.

I tried to split a giant chicken breast into 2. Then I pulled out the scale.

7.25 oz vs. 3.75 oz. That isn’t “in half.” So, I cut the big one in two again. 4.25 oz. Okay. So, now I have chicken for three.

I have determined through much reading that I live in a too-sparse area. Seemingly not, if you look around, there are many homes here, but not a one around the neighborhood is a friend. I was reading some blog where the woman calls up a bunch of friends and they come over to eat her latest creations. Or you go to borrow something “Can I borrow some sugar?”

We used to have a neighbor when I was growing up that did that. The Jewish folks next door are the closest we have to a neighbor – we’ve actually gone to their door, and last weekend they offered us to use their blower for leaves.

But no one is inviting the other to dinner, etc. That lady at work asked me a couple months ago why I didn’t live in the fan. “Isn’t that a better place to live for you guys?”

Perhaps it would be. If we walked out and socialized. There are some folks who are natural socializers and those who claim they are not – and are happy in their isolation. And still others surround themselves with enough family that outsiders are not as significant.

X. S. asked me today (because there are more restaurants there, not good reasoning) if I wanted to move to Washington.

“We’d have to seriously downsize if you want to live near the city.”

But I often long to live someplace where you can walk outside and get someplace without getting in a car, whether it’s a store, a 7/11 or a friend’s house.

Most people bounce back once they re-locate. It can be an opportunity to drop old habits and start fresh. But if you’re the one not moving but staying behind, it’s hard to slice it any other way than sad.

I have a good friend in Minnesota but I have never visited him. I can’t imagine why anyone would fancy living there. They’ve got lakes, though.

Can you tell I’m procrastinating? I sat down at the computer to do work. I just came up from the kitchen where I began soaking my chicken in milk. I hear it tenderizes fish and veal but I’ve never tried it with chicken.

I’m making panko-crumb/parmesan breaded chicken breast with a squeeze of lemon and a mushroom risotto. I’d invite you to try some if you lived down the street. Instead, I’ll just get an odd question about why I cut it into three pieces instead of two. Now everyone knows.

Real Art

This is real art, the music of Bertali:

Winter

This is weird.

If you call it art, I am pleased to say I don’t get it.

Onofri Conductor

There’s some mad conducting going on, when Enrico Onofri’s got a baton. I like the energy!

London-Paris 2009

I had a good deal of learning, education, and fun in my trip to both London and Paris.

I plan to write up more details soon, but in the meantime, I’ve assembled this slideshow for those interested.

Julie, Julia, and Jacques

Like so many women this summer, I went to the movies to see the movie about Julia Child (played by Meryl Streep) and Julie Powell, who obsessively cooks from Mrs. Child’s famous cookbook.

Since the movie has come out, the cookbook has climbed the best-seller lists, and how sad it is that Mrs. Child never could watch it!

My mother never have a good opinion of Julia Child. When I saw re-runs of her show, The French Chef on PBS, my mother would laugh, saying that “she can’t cook… look at the mess she’s making!”

I am a very messy cook. But I love food and I try to get creative with it.

I never have yet bought Mastering the Art of French Cooking. I have borrowed it from the library. And I’ve also been enjoying her cookbook with Jacques Pépin, Julia and Jacques Cooking at Home.

So much so, I bought the DVD of the series that came out just under a decade ago on PBS. The quality of the production is very different from that which I’ve been enjoying on the TV Food Network. Seeing the show’s scripted portions versus the more “off the cuff” remainder is kind of entertaining. The recipes aren’t overly difficult. What’s sensational about the book and the series is the honesty and enthusiasm both Mr. Pépin and Mrs. Child had for their recipes and eating well.

I found the movie, and even more so, the two books the movie was based on, to be very affective. I left that movie with a tear in my eye; I’ve been bothered about why ever since I saw it. And I think I’ve figured it out: those ladies knew what it was to really enjoy food and the joy from making something really good to eat—not only for yourself—but for those in your life. They got it.

When you realize that someone else in your life share’s your passion for something—even characters in a book or stars on a movie screen—it can be a powerful realization.

Philadelphia Museum

I recently travelled to Philadelphia by car. It wasn’t so bad, making the trek from Richmond. We went there to visit a friend who is leaving the country soon. While there, I visited the Philadelphia Museum of Art.

We spent the better part of the day there. On a previous visit to the city, I saw the Rodin museum.

I didn’t take my camera inside. What’s unique about Philadelphia is the “settings” they put around the art. You see Chinese art around the ruins of a Chinese temple building. You see bamboo and tea houses among the Japanese art. And you can see the interior of a French home with French art. It was very different.

I felt the PMoA seemed to spend more money on later works than earlier ones. Their showcase piece is a blue Cezanne. They have several important Picassos. Lots of Jasper Johns. Marcel Duchamp.

I enjoyed my visit; we went on “pay what you like Sunday” which meant the scene was very busy.

On the outside, I was taken away by the painted architectural details. The trip was further highlighted by dinner at 10Arts by Eric Ripert. A review should be coming shortly.

East Gallery – NGA

I visited the National Gallery of Art recently.

I first entered the so-called East gallery to find a modern space. It was a little disappointing. But this mobile hanging from the ceiling was cool. It was moving at a fairly good speed.

Better, I think, is this view, with some color on the wall and a tree. I like the coldness of a stone wall with a living tree. That says something.

This space also reminded me of the most beautiful outdoor surroundings of the Getty Museum in Los Angeles. Whereas the NGA made me feel like I was in some sort of public space where I leave after a number of hours (say, a museum or concert hall), the Getty had a feeling of a very nice (and large) private estate.

The entire outdoor surroundings in fact surpassed the art inside, becoming its own aesthetic playground.

The art in the west wing at the NGA is far better than the Getty’s, I’m saying. We took in two special exhibits of Spanish art, one of armor, the other, still life paintings. The guy could paint good “heirloom” tomatoes but not so great bread.

I seriously get the National Gallery’s desire to have a “modern section,” something to echo the aesthetics of art in the past fifty years (at least). They have their little pyramid things sticking out like the ones at the Louvre, but let’s be honest, they really don’t compare. There are orange cones around them outside. There’s a road going past.

Mr. Pei, we like the glass stuff in Paris. We want some too, please!

Come on. Getty:

It’s not that I’m trying to compare one museum’s wing to another’s complete museum, two coasts apart. That’s what I have done, but ultimately, that’s not the point.

Have you ever been on the underground “bridge” that connects the main United concourse at the O’Hare airport? It’s kinda cool. They have a lot of lights and play Gershwin music.

At the National Gallery they tried something like that.

This is the area beneath the street I mentioned. Soon, you come up to the wedges of glass designed by I.M. Pei. The scene at the airport is better, even more artistic.

Pei’s design uses water. In the cafeteria, you can watch the water cascade down.

Of course, the Getty has water too.

All I’m saying is, I used to think the NGA was a top-museum. What hangs on the walls inside is but one measure. Your use of space and the architecture is another. But copying the Louvre and the O’Hare airport is ultimately just disappointing.

I mean, look at the de Young in San Francisco:

Someone punched real holes in that façade. That’s awesomeness.

While the NGA also may be copying other famous landmarks (namely the Pantheon in Rome), I still am a sucker for this space on the (now firmly preferred) west gallery:

That’s all.

Better Pictures

I follow several food blogs, like this one, and then I also follow folks who like to photograph food, like this one. I’m a little upset they have such fabulous photographs of their foody exploits in the kitchen.

I’m jealous.

What I notice about both is that

a) they set up their shots (backgrounds, etc.) b) they’ve got light

So… I naturally am using this as an excuse to buy more camera equipment.

This will make more light, but I may also need something that can produce more close-up lighting.

For an upcoming trip, something wide-angle might be nice, too. But by Canon, or Sigma?

And finally, while in the throws of camera lust, I might mention the extra battery grip.

Or should I just concentrate on making better food, and not pictures?

Underground House

My week-long “day dream” type of activity has been to start designing a house in Sketch Up. I only finally got to the task this Friday evening.

The idea here is that the one side on the right goes below ground, to connect to a larger area below ground (green), likely by some elevator shaft. The section above the house, on the left, is a pool.

More to come… I find the process relaxing. When i want more detail, okay, then I’ll stress.

Teatro d’amore

Every time I watch the video, I’m yet further enamored of this album and the collaboration.

Man on the Move

I am trying to decide which application best suits my personal photo needs and my photo needs at work. The two organizers: iPhoto and Aperture.

In going through my photos, I came across this shot of my friend, Todd.

I used Photoshop to add the “crosshairs” and text. I got the whole vibe of crosshairs and such since I was in the hotel, watching him come “home,” with my camera. I suddenly felt like a private eye or something in a big city, having finally “found his man,” and catching evidence.

Nothing so glamorous or intriguing, I confess.

RV 576

Vivaldi supposedly wrote some rather colorful concerti for the orchestra at Dresden (think Heinichen or Pisendel). Among these is RV 576 in G minor. I have three performances:

• Danny Bond (bassoon) featured with the AAM under Christopher Hogwood
• I Concerti di Dresda with the Freiburger Barockorchester
• Concerti con molti strumenti with Biondi and the EG Orchestra

Neither of them is ultimately satisfying. Biondi, a usual favorite, got cheated this time around by a bad acoustic. He plays with the fastest tempo and the most unusual interpretation (he’s always pushing the accents, isn’t he?).

The AAM simply sounds thin in comparison to the others in terms of “sound.” It also appears they are afraid to offer any type of interpretive edge. They play tempo-sharp (as if the practice metronome was beeping as they played). Everything is just right, but there’s a lack of passion from any of the instrument groups. This concerto is ripe with oboe, bassoon, recorders, and of course, violin.

The FB-O takes this one really slow. They have the best of the AAM and EG sounds: more colorful than the AAM, more live than the AAM, but not too distant, as with the EG recording.

Now, let’s consider the third movement: the FB-O turns up the heat with the tempo but have a less orchestral sound than the EG ensemble.

Not everyone is used to the Vivaldian concerto with quite so much color as can be found in his concerti written for export. Some have horns, others a variety of woodwinds. For those willing to listen to the music and add some inventiveness, there are many rewards to be found.

The ultimate question however is what would the Germans have done with this music? As I listen today to British, Italian, and German musicians play this music so differently by their interpretation, what might the differences been a few hundred years ago?

The variety from CD to CD is our treat although that ultimate question can never be answered. It’s not worth worrying about, I suspect. The differences among each recording is an area of interest to me. It’s not always so important to mark a winner among the group. In this case, it’s simply a modern trap of following the suit of modern commercialism: may I help you find the best choice, sir?

My run-down: AAM – a little too straight. Biondi – a little too big a hall, and Freiburg – just right.

Hawk and Spit

I’ve been suffering of late from allergies and related sinus issues. Today wasn’t too bad, actually, except that late in the afternoon I was noticing some mucus collecting in the back of my throat.

The other day, driving home, I all of a sudden noticed a sizable amount of this phlegm that demanded evacuation (sooner than later, please). Having such bad luck spitting out of my window (it often lands on the outside of the car door), I decided to “spit into a tissue.” I put it into quotes because it’s been suggested before by a friend, and when I did it, I didn’t actually do it well.

I’m not a very good spitter.

My father on the other hand is an expert. He can hoch (as I researched, I found out that a common spelling is hawk) and spit quite well. The first act, the collection of phlegm, gathers all of the thick mucus in the back of the throat, loosening it from the deeper confines of the throat, well into the mouth cavity. What happens next is a mystery. A violent thrusting propels the said phlegm and spit forward. Spitting far is an art. While I can evacuate saliva from my mouth, it more often goes dribbling down my chin, not far away from my body.

It was with special trepidation this evening that the occasion hit again. Should I hold this phlegm until I get home, keeping my mouth closed, or stop and spit? Seems I was hitting every green light. What to do?

I was encouraged by my riding companion to “just spit it out!” I rolled down the window, and the warm air hit my face. It teased me, a bit, saying “You can’t do it! I’m the wind, I’m too strong. I’ll thwart your every effort!”

I was angry. If my father could hurl unwanted mucus from his mouth like an Olympian-class athlete might, then gosh darn it, so could I. I mustered all the strength I could while driving. I gripped the wheel hard, pulled back, turned my head, and I spit as hard as any one person could possibly spit.

I felt great. All of that phlegm was expelled from my mouth. Yet, I had miserably failed. It landed on the inside of the door this time, all around the lock, and then dribbling down the door. It looked bubbly.

“My God!” I exclaimed heavenward. “I spit like a loser!”

That was it. I have since devised that this spitting technique isn’t likely all about raw force, but around some kind of manipulation of the tongue. But, despite the allure of mastering a good hawk and spit, I think I will simply from this day on hold it until I do get home. The “open the door and spit down when you’re at a stop light trick” works too, when you hit red lights.

That is all. (And yes, mom, I cleaned it up with Clorox-brand spray after getting home.)

Birthday Meal

Tonight I had fun making a birthday meal at home.

XS’s favorite course was the opener: garlic shrimp with pancetta. The shrimp is cooked in a court bouillon then mixed, chilled, with crispy pancetta, roasted garlic, lemon, and parsley and green onion. I added sweet grape tomatoes to stretch the flavors.

Happy Birthday, XS!

Office Enhance

This month I felt it was finally the time to upgrade my computer. I retired my PowerMac G5 for a new Nehalem-Xeon MacPro. Besides the obvious speed boost, this new computer will allow me to do things like run alternate operating systems (i.e., Windows, Linux), burn 2 DVDs or CDs simulanteously, and with the graphics performance, “really” run some higher-end apps like Motion.

But the big deal was the office space. It’s typically messy, akin to what I’d adopted in college with the help of my roommate.

(A curious note about this photo, below. It’s taken from a VHS tape I made in November 1993. On the left is my computer (Macintosh IIsi) with Apple’s Extended Keyboard II. I still have the keyboard, and yes, it still works. Adjacent to that is my 13″ TV on top of my roommate’s stereo equipment. His computer was the more robust MacCentris 650. While I had piles of “stuff,” he went beyond that, with copious soda cans and Snapple bottles. The SY99 you see above is barely visible on the extreme left of this shot.)

So, I have been working for three weeks on tidying-up my home office. Trust me, this is no LifeHacker “re-wire your office” top contender, but it is significantly better than what I had before.

I don’t like the desk, but I’ve been stuck with it for ages. It’s the Ivar system from Ikea. The corner part is the anchor, and holds the CPU, cable modem, and hard drives and the EyeTV. Above the bottom layer lives my scanner, integrated amplifier, and behind those, an Apple TimeCapsule. And above that, my photo printer and one speaker.

To the left, on a flat surface, you can see a pencil sharpener and a portion of my Fujitsu ScanSnap. It’s a worthy addition to any home office.

I used velcro, cable ties, and velcro cable ties to wrap and group a number of cables. A few wires live on the desk connecting USB peripherals, but I suspect I can tidy those up a little bit. The whole point of all of this is to have a dedicated typing area with the screen, a dedicated writing area to the left, and to the right, the keyboards. A great upgrade would include a second monitor over the keyboard stand for reading music and interacting with audio software.

I’m writing this more or less as a personal reminder of what things look like now, at the end of April, 2009. There may be better efforts underway, but I’m excited about using a new machine in a far less cluttered (new) environment.

In the future, I think I’d like a bigger desk (maybe glass) and the cubical shelving seen here.

If you’d rather see a far more robust spread, check out this guy’s office. It’s well documented!

Absolutely Outstanding

Wow! Check out this video of Ensemble Matheus performing Biber’s Battalia suite. Just as I imagined Mr. Spinosi plays: with such character and feeling. A real treat.

Sonance Remarquer

This is me during my high school years.

I wrote this piece in rondo form. I entered this piece in a contest for kids who were doing things in the arts. This contest, several years earlier, had spawned my interest in writing music, and consequently, led me to study music later on.

It was recorded at Troy school in Avon Lake, Ohio.

Preview

I am finding a lot of gems from old videos we’d taken in the 1990s…

I hope to post some up here soon.

Lewis Ginter Botanical

Several years ago I visited the Lewis Ginter Botanical Garden here in Richmond, and took some amazing photos of tulips. I’ve longed to go back.

Last year I went, and got there too late (May) to get them. I went yesterday, and was too early. Note to self: tulips come up in April here. Probably prime time is around April 7-12, but just my guess.

So, I got some pinwheels instead. They were in season.

Revisiting the Brandenburgs

Next weekend I will be traveling to George Mason University to hear the Academy of Ancient Music perform Bach’s Brandenburg Concertos, under the directorship of Richard Egarr.

Growing up baroque, we had the English Concert and the AAM as mainstays of learning about Bach’s music aurally, using original instruments in the 1980s. A couple years ago, I saw the AAM live for the first time under Egarr’s direction featuring music of Handel.

In preparation for this concert, my friends may wish to read a little bit about the six concerti. For those uninterested in the Wikipedia’s take, here’s the skinny:

Bach presented these six individual works as a collection to the so-called Margrave of Brandeburg supposedly as a résumé for employment. The concerti likely were pulled together among Bach’s more unusual and fanciful concertos that he’d previously used elsewhere, for courtly entertainment. The concertos were “discovered” some 100 years later, likely never played by anyone associated with the Margrave’s entourage.

The six “concertos” are multi-movement works that follow concerto principles of the time, namely, the fast-slow-fast Italian model. Each concerto is scored for a different set of instruments.

• One: horns, oboes, bassoon and strings. Think of a hunting trip. This one has 4 movements.
• Two: think “concertino,” a small group of soloists. Trumpet, violin, oboe, recorder with a small orchestra. The trumpet sits out in the slow movement.
• Three: All strings. 3 violins, 3 violas, 3 cellos, and bass. My favorite.
• Four: Solo violin with two recorders or “echo flutes.” The two recorders kind of act as one instrument.
• Five: think concertino again, this time, transverse flute, harpsichord, and violin. Stylistically, this one seems the most modern.
• Six: the dark concerto for low strings: arm violas, leg violas, and bass. This one rarely gets played fast enough for my taste. Beautiful middle movement that demands we stuff our mouths with caramels it’s so rich and sweet.

Among my favorite recordings are those by:

• Musica Antiqua Köln
• Café Zimmermann
• La Stravaganza, Hamburg
• Il Giardino Armonico

Purchase the AAM recording via Amazon to support biberfan.org.

Boston

I had the opportunity this weekend to travel to Boston, Massachusetts.

It was good to be able to visit one of my favorite towns and spend time with a good, old friend. Incidentally, he’s in the picture above, not below.

Inauguration Photos

Some of the better photos I’ve seen of the inauguration have come from this set at the Big Picture.

January, 1993

Today, technically, is 19 January 2008. Thanks to the fine record keeping of a friend, I can now read a letter I wrote on 15 January, 1993. I am not going to reproduce the note, but I came across several things that I’ll put into the form of factual statements.

• I was mixing my own custom ink colors for the pen I was using.
• I hand-wrote the letter using printing since I really liked to write in “print.”
• My handwriting style adopted several characters that my Spanish teacher used. Especially, lowercase “y” and “a.”
• I had been shopping at a music store in Westlake, OH, called My Generation. I purchased a DG Archiv recording of Goebel performing Bach’s sonatas for violin and harpsichord. I would re-purchased this set again, in this decade, when I picked up Musica Antiqua Köln’s 10-CD collection of the Brandenburgs and “Kammermusik” of Bach.
• I ate at Wendy’s by myself for lunch.
• I went to some store called LDI which sold electronics. I don’t remember this store today.
• I had just recently received a bootleg copy of Adobe Photoshop 2.0.
• I had expressed interest in purchasing speakers for my synthesizer. I wouldn’t get anything close to this until I graduated college in 1996.
• I note my grandmother set the table for dinner at 4:30 PM. We dined at 6:45 PM.
• I report that the concertmaster for the English Concert is now Monica Huggett; Simon Standage has left. This evidently was a temporary move; so slow did news of these ensembles carry into the U.S. Standage had formed his own ensemble in 1990 (Collegium Musicium 90).
• I detail reading a book entitled Imposters in the Temple about college professors.
• I claim I’d like the benefits outlined in the book, and would like to become a college professor. My friend I was writing today is a college professor.
• I say I want my face on CD and book covers. Today, I’ve done both (albeit, my face was not on the cover of the book, but inside).
• I ask my friend and his roommate to listen to the music of Antonio Vivaldi. I write the composer’s name in cursive, similarly to the way the composer signed his own name.

Slacker and the USPS

Dr. Becker felt he got swindled. His family bought an online streaming radio device that he claims was defective. He used the U.S. Postal Service to return the unit for replacement. After failing to receive the replacement, he follows-up only to find the company, Slacker, never received his defective unit. Unsatisfied with the customer service he received after writing e-mails to the company, he is now boycotting the company and is urging others to do the same.

I have no use for Slacker. They could fold tomorrow and I wouldn’t shed a tear.

But I see the real problem he had is with the U. S. Postal Service, hereby referenced as USPS. Fly Like an Eagle. They took his package, he paid money, and it never found its home back at Slacker H.Q. He almost admits wrong doing by not paying for package tracking or insurance. He’s angry. He’s out over $100 for a product he never got an hour’s worth of enjoyment out of.

Granted, I’ve had issues myself with Amazon.com and the USPS. Amazon both times improved the situation. Once I received a refund, and the second time, I received a duplicate item sent since the first was lost. As per Dr. Becker’s wishes, Slacker could have sent a replacement unit. Instead, they stuck to their policy and placed blame where it should be placed, with the USPS.

I have no doubt that shipping companies lose a lot of packages, letters, and parcels each year. How many I cannot say, but I have only had these bad experiences with the USPS.

Today, they offer to take more money from you, if you want. I’ve written about this years ago on the Internet, but let me proffer a typical scenario.

John walks into the post office, to send a package to his mom. Inside is a picture frame he’s bought, with a photo of his family. He’s also included a letter and a book he’s returning to his mom that she lent him. He approaches the counter.

• Sir, when would you like this to arrive?
• What are my choices?
• First class or priority, 2-3 days for each really.
• Well, what’s the difference? They could both take up to 3 days?
• Yes, sometimes priority is quicker, but first class might be slower.
• Okay, well, priority, let’s go with that…
• Okay sir, would you like insurance for this? A return receipt? Whaddabout stamps?
• Ummm…
• Sir, please, I don’t have all day. People are waiting.
• Well, this stuff is important… sure, return receipt, ah… insurance… no stamps.
• Well, if you want all of that, please step aside and fill out these forms, front and back. Next time, fill these out before you get in line.
• How much is this going to cost me?
• We’ll see when you’re back in line.

What I find upsetting is that I can hand over something to someone, pay them money, and they can take it from me, never give it to the person I’m trying to send it to, and that’s okay. What I find upsetting is that to proffer any assurances, I have to be inconvenienced with more fees and more wait-time.

Do they treat packages (or letters) differently if I’ve paid for insurance? And what does the delivery receipt do? Please tell me! In my experience, I’ve sent stuff, gotten the receipt, and the recipient never received the package! “Sir it was received.” I told them, “Uh, no, it wasn’t. I never got it.” “Well, we have confirmation, sir.”

You get stuck in these loops of lunacy.

While Dr. Becker may boycott Slacker, I’d like to boycott the USPS.

I tried avoiding the USPS in paying bills. The thought and worry over my bills being received on time led to the following debacle.

I switched paying my primary credit card bill with my bank’s online bill pay system. I have an account with Wachovia.

So, I have this account as a regular debter, and type-in to pay a certain amount. It processes, and I log-off.

15 days later, I get another bill from the credit card company that claims I’ve never paid the bill. I login to my Wachovia account online to find that there is absolutely no record of my transaction. Honest to God, I paid the bill and marked as much in pen on the paper bill I received (”paid in full, 12/24/08″).

So I call Wachovia. After 15 minutes of a phone tree, I talk to a live human. I give him my social security number, and he recites it back wrong. I only picked up on this after I said “yes.” What a mistake. Now, he has to ask me for every piece of identification I have. Address. Maiden names. Debit card numbers. Address. Phone number. I know he thinks I’m scamming him. He’s asking for some of my last purchases. Jesus!

All to find out “there’s no record of this, sir. It’s a computer. If there’s no record on the website, we have no record. You must not have paid this bill. There’s no record of this transaction.”

Okay. Calm down. Breathe. It makes sense, the credit card company wasn’t paid. The bank didn’t lose my money. But I know I spent 10 minutes back in December paying that bill. And you have absolutely no record of my time online?

Something’s broken.

The USPS can lose your packages. The bank can forget to pay your bills. While we can all stand our ground and protest these places with the power of the Internet, who is looking out for us with regard to these loopholes?

Schroeder and Beethoven

The New York Times has a good article on the influence of Beethoven in the comic strips by Charles Schulz.

Top Bush Moments

According to David Letterman, these are the top 10 “moments” captured on film of George W. Bush.

Cookie Jar

Many kitchens across America have small ceramic vessels on countertops: garlic keeps, butter bells, and of course, the good, old fashioned cookie jar. A venerable stash of good treats, many hold store-bought cookies. Others hold cookies that are homemade. Still, others are a place to store dog treats for the family pet. My parents have a large cookie jar on their countertop, but unlike many, there’s no lid. The gaping hole on the top is large enough to accommodate a large, oversized fist. But in addition to not having a lid, it doesn’t hold cookies, or even anything to eat. It holds excuses.

The excuses are printed on large pieces of paper. They’re large enough, and so cleanly cut that you wouldn’t call them “scraps.” On each one, in a clean yet uninteresting typeface, is printed a unique excuse. They used to use one of those “Magic” 8-Balls for excuses, but you soon run out of excuses with one of those. That’s when the old cookie jar, beautiful really with a handcrafted ceramic glaze on the outside (and in, for that matter), was converted from serving snacks to holding a sundry number of… excuses.

The kitchen seems a logical place to keep such a jar, not only for the connection to its previous use as a cookie jar, but also for pragmatic reasons. Frequently, my parents need excuses while on the phone, and since many phone calls are answered in the kitchen, any number of excuses are at the ready.

At first, they used the excuses to maintain a lifestyle of limited sociability. If someone called my dad to golf, and he’d already cut him off his list of potential golfing partners, the jar was at the ready. He might stick in his hand as soon as he detected why his friend called. “Joe… what’s up… What? Tomorrow tee time? Ah gosh… [rumble, rumble], listen tomorrow’s no good for me… I have to take my wife to the dentist… yeah, they’re going to put her out… I’ll have to drive her there and back and all… yeah… sorry!”

So, once the excuse is used, it’s clipped onto a magnet and attached to the refrigerator. That way, everyone is aware of the “excuse” that was used. After all the excuses are used and posted on the refrigerator, well, they can be recycled. Because the jar holds so many excuses, the whole cache will last for some time, many times up to a year. There’s rarely any problem, then, of repeating the excuses. Because some of the people my parents consort with are so old, some excuses may only get used once before the person dies. Since others have forgetfulness, they never remember the excuses at all, no matter what. In fact, they may call a second time to go golfing, and because my parents are sharp, they can give the same excuse since it’s on display on the fridge. Once my parents used a fresh excuse for the same request, but that was okay, because Mrs. Johnson has Alzheimer’s and didn’t remember the first excuse pulled from the cookie jar.

The kitchen seems a logical place to keep such a jar, not only for the connection to its previous use as a cookie jar, but also for pragmatic reasons.

I have no doubt my parents have used these excuses for all kinds of sticky situations, from giving donations, to refusing party invitations, to canceling eye appointments. Yet, as their younger (not to mention astute) son, I became aware of this practice when the jar got used on me. Suspicion followed my request for a visit. “Why don’t you come up and visit for a spell?” I asked. There was a pause on the phone, the rustle of a piece of paper, then a plausible reason why they couldn’t visit. “Okay, perhaps another time,” I told them. My suspicion faded quickly, until the next time I tried coaxing them up north.

“Fancy a visit? It’s been some time, you know…” I hinted. Then my mother said she was walking into the kitchen. I said, “So?” but she paused for a time, saying “Hold on, I have to get something here in the kitchen for your father.” When she finally reached the jar, she found safety in a fresh excuse. “Oh, John, we can’t visit now. It’s too cold up there, up north… we’ll visit when it’s warmer.” Yeah. Warm like a freshly-opened package of Sausalito cookies.

Suspicions turned into confirmation when some of the excuses for not visiting turned into major illnesses. There are less illnesses in a city hospital. If it wasn’t mom’s knee, or the arthritis, it was dad’s teeth, a supposed delay of surgery, or a re-emergence of the shingles. When no sickness but death remained, it was the method of transportation. “We can’t drive!” Okay, “I will buy plane tickets. What day?” I wagered with them. “Oh, your father can’t fly on account that he’s afraid someone will scratch his car if it’s parked at the airport.” Hmm. I tried more and more to reason with these excuses, but the jar seemed to have an endless bounty of them. “Get my uncle to drive you to the airport, you can leave the car at home.” Suddenly, uncle was too ill himself to drive to the airport. Sometimes multiple excuses issued forth, on account that one of my parents must have had sticky fingers before my call. Multiple slips of paper were sticking together. Mom would just use them all.

“Well, yes, your uncle is sick, but his truck isn’t working, I don’t think… he can’t pay to repair it.” I suggested that my uncle drive my dad’s car. Now, he is protective of the thing, so she didn’t even need to waste an excuse on that one. “Well, your dad won’t let anyone else drive that car, you know that.” That I did. He makes my mother drive a 17 year-old car. I didn’t even get to ‘test-drive’ it on my last visit. After exhausting half a dozen excuses in one call, then giving my mother false confidence that she had me beat by extrapolating on the possible plight of my dad’s car in my uncle’s hands (and feet), I tried another angle. “Mom, I’ll send a limousine service to pick you both up!” This sudden surprise caught her off guard. First, she mumbled about “the current state of the economy,” which was an excuse she already had used. She mistakingly broke one of those rules with using these excuse papers. The re-use of a rule put her into a confused state. She ran out of steam, and simply reverted to the “emergency rule.” I haven’t seen it for sure, but I imagine they have this excuse taped to the actual jar, on the front of the jar’s fascia. It reads: “Say the signal of the cordless phone is breaking up, and you cannot hear the caller.” Yeah, she used that one. “Something’s wrong with your phone, son!” I hung up on her, knowing I had achieved a small victory.

I’ve tried everything to get a visit out of my parents. I’ve tried getting them to come alone. Together? We’ve tried every season known to mother nature. It’s either too hot, too rainy, too cold, or else the weather in their neighborhood might cause stress for the pet cat. “Since you want to drive, bring the cat!” “Oh no!,” they opine, “you’re allergic to the cat, we can’t do that.” Nevermind that the cat’s dander was of little concern to them when I paid them a visit.

I bought that one hook, line, and sinker.

This past summer, we thought another curve ball might upset the seemingly unstoppable power of the excuse jar. WIth surprise, we announced getting married. I mean, parents come to visit for major life-changing events, right? Baptisms? Funerals? Marriages? It seemed like it might work.

“Oh, I just don’t know about your father,” my mom went on. Then while I searched my mind for another angle, she suavely dipped her hand in the jar a second time. “Look, I’d love to come and all, but I don’t have time to get my passport renewed.” I bought that one hook, line, and sinker. I only found out later there was a 3-week turn-around time on passports. Foiled again by the bottomless cookie jar of excuses.

Next, we changed the dynamics here at home. One of us would be leaving for a period. “Why not visit when I’m here alone?” I asked. It was a new year, and that’s when it became firmly cemented in my mind that the old excuses had been all dumped back into the cookie jar. We were on repeats now. Unlike Mrs. Jones, my memory was fresh still with so many of the little printed inscriptions on those papers. This time around, we revisited dad’s pulled groin, the cold weather, and the high price of plane tickets. You could tell she was getting wise about that I was figuring things out. I kept my cool this time, only the excuses were read one after the other with more desperation in her voice.

I called another time, when I knew my mother liked to watch TV. My father picked up. While he too uses the excuse jar, he’s far less prone to go running into the kitchen to use it if it’s inconvenient. I caught him at an excellent time. I used his laziness against him. He reverted to a personal emergency excuse. “Why don’t you guys come for a visit?” He stalled with a long laugh, then said, “Ah, gotta check with your mom… do you think she’d go for it?”

Although less than 100 feet away, she couldn’t be bothered. This excuse is a classic. You defer the decision to another person. If you wait long enough to consult, you’ve forgotten about what they were avoiding and what you asked. The excuse jar is filled with variations on this classic excuse. “Party tomorrow night? I’ll have to check with my husband. He’s out right now.” “Donate $100? We’d love to, I’m sure. Let me have my wife call you back. She holds our checkbook.” Sorry fraternal order of police. You’ll never see that check. You’ve been served by that big ceramic jar of excuses.

So, my question dear reader, is where do these jars come from? I have no doubt that they are as ubiquitous in homes across America as the standard keepers of cookies. My parents aren’t likely clever enough to invent this little mechanism. Perhaps they are sold in varying styles by a catalog put out by the A.A.R.P.? Maybe it’s a prize for the debut cashing-in on your I.R.A. by the local bank? “Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Smith! We’re pleased to present you with the jumbo sized excuse jar. Because you are preferred members of this branch, we’ve stocked your authentic terra cotta jar with 50 complimentary excuses.” It sounds so plausible that sooner or later 20/20 will likely uncover the scheme for viewers on TV. It’s a shame the hosts of these “exposé” television newsmagazines are so old, however. They’ll likely want to keep the secrets behind the excuse jar industry under wraps.

When you think about it, revealing the truth behind all the creative excuses our parents might provide us would be a major setback. Imagine how you’d feel when you would learn that portions of your conversations were pre-scripted? That instead of snacking on wholesome oatmeal cookies, grandma and grandpa were gorging on lies and fabrications? I’m sad to say I have no proof of just how widespread this phenomenon is, but be warned. Should calls to your older relatives’ homes involve “going to the kitchen,” pauses, the sound of crinkling crackling paper, or photos depicting a beautiful, ceramic cookie jar on the kitchen counter surface, know that I expect you give credit where it is due. You read it here first!

Sedarises

This evening as I was driving back from Washington, I was listening to a podcast episode from the talk radio show, The Splendid Table. It is among my favorite things to listen to. Lynne Rosetto Kasper, the host, interviewed a lady named Amy Sedaris who had recently written a book. She was kooky. I wondered if I knew her.

She talked about cheeseballs, about making little Christmas gifts, and about some book she’d written. I wondered if she was related to David Sedaris, the man who wrote the book I’m currently reading from the library.

It turns out they’re brother and sister.

It also turns out she is the kooky lady I’ve seen on TV. Okay, all’s understood now.

Which leads me to proclaim that Mr. Sedaris’ writing in some respects, new to me (despite being recommended more than once), reminds me of some of my own. It might inspire me to try my hand. I miss that type of creativity, which ironically enough, is how this website got started in the late 1990s. By writing essays.

Washington

Today we visited two museums we’d never visited before in Washington, D.C.

The Building Museum and the National Portrait Gallery. I simply loved the opportunity to snap some photos.

Taking Pictures

Sometimes, I get “lost” looking at all the great photos one can find on Flickr. Unlike other sites for sharing photos of your kid’s birthday party with relatives, Flickr seems to have a real cadre of quality photographers behind it. This community is about sharing your art, commenting on finds, and learning. It sounds kind of hokey, but that’s what I get from what I see and read.

Today I took more time outdoors to try my hand with my new camera. It’s a little bit too much camera for my current abilities, I feel, but it’s something I think I can take far with time and patience. I like this shot the best of those taken today.

The three trees appear as one (a rather Christian theme), but all else seems bare, save for some stuff going on in the outer fringes. I guess you could Photoshop those trees out, if you wanted.

The perspective changed when I put the camera down closer to the ground. It did an excellent job at picking up the colors of the grass and leaves.

The temperature today was about 35 degrees, F. What you miss is the steep angle of the hill. This was taken today at Maymont Park. Beyond the trees lives the big house. To my back, the railroad tracks.

Best Fonts of 2008

Back in college, I was fortunate to find others who shared my then secret admiration and fascination with fonts. I thought maybe it was this odd personality trait, that I liked you know, letterforms. I actually had favorite fonts, and they weren’t “Times” or “Geneva.” Things like Poppl-Pontifex, Adobe Garamond, or Bodoni.

As I met more folks with what might even be called fetishes for fonts, I realized just how expensive a proposition owning these things might become. It was likely the cost involved, and no professional access to the specimens I loved, that has excluded me from the coveted member’s club. I took my oddball fascination with letterforms and then began committing to memory the catalog numbers of Bach’s works (the so-called BWV system). I’m not sure what’s hot on my mind today other than an odd collection of miscellany; collections of obscure things, like composer’s dates, the members of boutique baroque orchestras, and published recipes that promise profound flavors and requisite emotional responses.

It is then, a special thing, when I run across and article such as this, foretelling what one man considers the best fonts of 2008. I mean, it could be the best wines, the best hotels, the best cars, the best hi-fi equipment, or the best investments. But no, it’s the best fonts, and that tickles me.

I liked Utility, Soho, and Skolar, especially, not to mention a few specialty typefaces such as Compendium. I picture that one on a classy wine bottle.

I think those of us who dabble in the design of things, but don’t find it our daily passion or means for sustainability, ought to be allowed a font a year. A little personal vice, if you will, healthier than cigar smoking, less expensive than a truffle dinner, and something that we are in special, limited company to appreciate and savor.

Regrets 2008

As I was driving this morning away from Starbucks, several thoughts entered my head. I began to think of regrets I had for 2008. I thought I’d pen a little list.

• I regret not returning to Starbucks today after they served two poorly-created drinks. I could not taste any flavor of “white chocolate” in the so-called white chocolate mocha drink, and they did not put whipped cream in it, either. Also,
• Not reporting the marriage announcement to the New York Times,
• Not getting my parents here for the Christmas holiday,
• Dragging XS into the Exploratorium in San Francisco,
• Not losing weight,
• that Cavanna Pasta here in Richmond won’t be selling their tiramisu anymore (but that may help with the weight thing),
• that I’ve purchased too many sadly-made pastries from the new Short Pump Whole Foods market,
• that I hadn’t discovered applewood smoked bacon earlier in my life,
• that we didn’t get the cheese course during the 4-figure wedding meal,
• that I didn’t stop for a Southern Kitchen biscuit while in Chapel Hill earlier this year,
• that I had a low blood sugar reaction in California, and consequently just had to eat a Thomas Keller Bouchon bakery chocolate chip cookie (the cookie was awesome, but it left me less hungry at the French Laundry, later in the day), and
• that I only ordered one tray of steamed soupy-buns at the Shanghai Dumpling King restaurant in the Richmond neighborhood of San Francisco during our vacation.

Those are my regrets. Nothing too deep or important, I wager, but that is probably a good thing. The theme for 2009 is “cutback,” in a number of areas. Food (sheer amount), gluttony (and the associated cost), extravagance, luxury, etc., etc. It will be the year to lose weight, but also live more simply and economically.

What I do know is that we are fat. Obese. See WALL-E. That is the future. We have fat lifestyles, fat habits, fat minds and arteries. Last week, Obama said that it was going to get worse but that we would emerge, leaner and meaner..I don’t think lean is mean…it just rhymes. Lean is healthy. Most of us eat too much, super sized lives and meals…

• Jamie Lee Curtis, Huffington Post

O.k., one last look at that delicious dumpling:

Happy New Year to the readers.

Cooking Notes

Tonight I worked on a few “things” for an upcoming get together. Namely, I worked on the topping for bread, some so-called “fire-roasted” tomatoes, and then I also prepared a sauce for beef.

The tomatoes come from a recipe that appeared in Gourmet magazine, and consequently, in the Gourmet cookbook. It’s really simple. You slow-cook tomatoes in the oven. They recommend 6-8 hours for this type of procedure, at 200 degrees F. I played with the temperature a bit, but the preparation is really simple: season the cut tomatoes with salt, pepper, garlic, and EVOO.

These tomatoes didn’t “look” great, mind you. They were not cheap, but it’s December, and they came from Florida. They’d never compare to local Hanovers in June.

But wow. The garlic slices turned into chewy candy, the pepper magnified into something spicy, and the tomatoes were… divine. Still juicy, but a concentrated, rich juiciness that you simply wanted to savor. I just placed them in the refrigerator… they’ll emerge again on top of bread slices, and a really good fruity olive oil. This beats other things so more complex.

The sauce I made will be served “alongside” a beef tenderloin cut. The roast will be unusual: I plan on coating the beef tenderloin in coffee, cocoa, and porcini mushrooms (dried), after they’ve been finely ground in a spice grinder. So, the sauce should play off of some of these flavors.

The approach was simple enough: take shallots, get them really soft, and add mushrooms. I added a lot of chunky portobello mushrooms and lots of red wine. Add veal or beef demi-glace. Reduce. Reduce. Reduce.

The mushrooms soften, the qualities of the wine(s) intensifies… check for seasoning. I let a big stem of rosemary play along for about 40 minutes in the sauce as it reduced.

I then took most of the resulting liquid and about half of the solids and buzzed them in the blender. This thickened the sauce. It now awaits reheating and service.

The sauce came off just a tad tart. I’m going to round-out the flavors a bit before serving by adding a secret ingredient when it gets reheated… a thick, syrupy concoction that sweeten things up a bit… The only question–the sauce can be served a couple ways. As is, or completely smoothed and mounted with butter. I think I’ll go chunky this time, to show off the still-texturiffic mushrooms.

The Visuals

I like the (new) view in iTunes that lets you see all your albums, akin to photos in iPhoto.

I began listening to the first track of every album (I didn’t get too far), and it was an interesting way to sample them. When you hover over each album, you can click a “Play” button to start that one off. You can also view albums according to genre, composer, and artist… and re-size them accordingly to fit more or fewer in the browser.

When you view things this way, you begin to realize just how much music you have. Seeing that biberfan.org began as biberfan.com and was principally about music (not to mention creative stories), 2008 presents us with more options than ever for music. According to iTunes, I now have 1,101 albums. My favorite statistic? 43.9 days of start-to-finish playback. That’s a silly number, but would work out to be 44 days x 24 hours x 60 minutes to come up with the number of minutes, right? Anyhow, that’s more than a month’s worth of content.

I started collecting music on CD in 1990. 18 years, 63,000 some minutes. That works out to 3,520 minutes a year. In 25 years, at that same rate, I will have collected 88,000 minutes worth of music. That’s roughly 2 months worth there. That’s if, of course, if my musical tastes continue to develop and classical/baroque music continues to be recorded.

What’s interesting, I think, is the question as to whether or not we need to collect all of this data (i.e., “software) for ourselves. At some point it seems to become silly. I mean, some big server out there could hold all the recordings. When I hit “play,” does it need to come from my hard drive? There were advantages to this up until recently.

Subscription models are being tried now with some musical services, of course, but require a monthly rental fee. How much would you pay for access to a collection of every CD? And for how long?

Let’s do some basic math. Let’s round down my CDs to 1000. Lots of folks who collect music have reached and surpassed this number. Let’s also assume I paid $15 for each one (in some cases, this is too low, but let’s just stick to some basic math). $15K for my collection. I don’t own every CD, mind you (or recording), but I have about enough. Add maybe 450, and I’d have everything I’d ever want to listen to. This of course is from around 1950-present day. What about the recordings made next year? And after that?

Let’s say my “useful” collection grows to 2000 CDs by the time I’m done collecting, and let’s say this cost me again, $15 per CD. I’ve spent, then $30K for my music collection. I’m 70 years old now, I’ve got this nice collection.

If a music subscription service cost $15/month (Rhapsody is $13) (basically the cost of a single CD), I’ll have 2000 months to listen for my $30K. That’s roughly 133 years worth. Another way to think of it: for the price I’ll have paid for my music, I could have rented it for 133 years. It seems rental might be more economical, despite not being able to “own” the music in the way I currently do with iTunes.

There are ways to mess with my math and scenario here, of course. A resource like Rhapsody might prove to be more valuable by offering more than the 2000 recordings. They advertise 6 million tracks, as of this writing at Rhapsody, so… while the numbers may be in my favor, practicality may not.

Are all albums equal in value? How much time do I really have to listen to a library of over 6 million tracks? How does the human brain organize and make sense of 1,000,000 or more tracks?

Here’s a thought: what if my collection doesn’t grow any more. I already feel the number of tracks I have is too many to really listen to them all. The iTunes interface is nice because I can “see” what I have, because I’m still stuck (mentally) on this whole CD/album concept.

I have a feeling our capacity to remember/like/listen has real limits. There’s likely a number of “new” stuff we can take-in each month. There’s a holding area for favorites… but there’s likely to be a mechanism for the neglected stuff to fall-out of the system.

Question: what’s the most ideal system to accommodate our needs/tastes/abilities for listening? All the virtues of iTunes are likely to be implemented today on the Web… so as long as you have an Internet connection, you can have your library (any size), organize by search or visual, and maintain stats for keeping track.

I think the future of music is going to get more complex. Today we have iPhones/iPods/computers/CDs to “hold” our music. What happens when our headphones connect directly to the Internet?

I read the other day someone was really enjoying the random tunes via Pandora. Pandora is like your bottomless-jukebox playing tracks at random. Right?

Despite what I know is on the horizon, I kind of like the idea of owning my music. I like having rows and rows of silver-colored platters in plastic holders (CDs) stored in the back room. I like my iTunes. Despite the expense and hassle, I like keeping track of my own music media. How long will it last?

Trip to California

This past week we traveled to California. The centerpiece of the visit was a dinner reservation at the French Laundry in Yountville. We flew from Richmond to SFO, and first up, was Thanksgiving at my friend Todd’s home in Merced, CA, about 150 minutes away from San Francisco proper.

Here’s a basic synopsis of the trip by day.

Thursday

• Thanksgiving, travel to Merced, Hampton Inn
• Gilroy, Los Baños, Central Valley

Friday

• Breakfast with Neumann/Smekals
• Tour of UC Merced
• Trip to San Francisco
• Check-in at Fairmont
• Walking tour of Chinatown
• Lunch at Noodle Place
• Afternoon walk to Embarcadaro/Ferry Building
• Pictures Bay Bridge
• Dinner Sushi Place
• Nighttime at Market/Union Square
• Apple Visit, Virgin Megastore

Saturday

• Breakfast at Hotel
• Walking tour to Fisherman’s Wharf
• Ghiradelli Plaza
• Lunch with Wu-Shi in Chinatown
• Cab to Palace of Fine Arts
• Exploratorium
• Back to Hotel
• Dinner at Wolfgang Puck Restaurant: Postrio
• Cab back to Hotel

Sunday

• Breakfast at Coffee Shop
• Car Ride to Golden Gate Park
• Japanese Tea Garden, Pictures
• de Young Museum
• Lunch at Shanghai Dumpling King, Richmond
• Drive to Golden Gate, travel 101 to Napa
• Arrive Westin Verosa
• Car trip to Yountville, pictures, Boucheron bakery
• Dinner at French Laundry

Monday

• Leave Napa Hotel, travel to Calistoga
• Tour/Tasting at Castello Amorosa
• Lunch at Rutherford Grill
• Drive to Berkeley
• Visit Amoeba Music
• Dinner – Vietnamese
• Drop off car at Airport

We had not planned terribly well, but despite that, we had a good time, and got to see/do a lot, all things considered. I thought I’d highlight a few things from each day.

Thursday

We drove from the airport following Todd’s directions. The Garmin nüvi didn’t like them, but we followed Todd’s directions. We enjoyed the trip, it was very unusual. First, we went down “the” 101, through Silicon Valley, passing places like Redwood City and Cupertino. Then you end-up in Gilroy, home to an outlet mall. Todd’s uncle would visit the next day, to inspect a store there.

The terrain and views going past a water reservoir, yellow hills, and farmland, was all very unusual and interesting. By the time we approached closer to Merced along route 5, it was misty and cloudy.

We stayed at the Hampton Inn which was great, save for the flood lights outside that illuminate the building. They shine into your room, and with only sheer curtains, your room is illuminated, too.

Thanksgiving was a good meal, complete with Staci’s friend from Parma High School, Todd’s aunt, uncle, and nephew, and his mom. This is the first time I got to visit his home, and it was very tastefully appointed and painted inside.

Thanksgiving went late, complete with FleetFarm dancing. The pie, a bit spicy.

Friday

We woke early Friday to visit Todd’s work. He works at UC Merced, and it’s literally in the middle of nowhere. It was kind of depressing, actually, with the cloudy skies, the abandoned, half-built homes, and the starkness of three large buildings against the barren horizon.

We then said goodbye, and made it to the Fairmont in San Francisco. Wow, what hills in S.F. I didn’t fancy driving there, so we parked the car for good.

We ventured to Chinatown and settled on a specialty noodle shop for lunch. This was an interesting lunch that I enjoyed. I dropped my iPhone into the said soup.

Seeing your $600 phone floating there, was surreal. It went in, face-down, right after I took this photo. As I got it out, it was still on, illuminated. As I would learn later, the SIM card got wet and things went downhill from there.

With more walking, I was growing tired. The hills will really work your ankles. I visited the Ferry Building, saw the bridge, sampled some Scharffenberger chocolate, and then we took a cab back to the hotel before dinner.

I wanted to try some good Japanese food, so close-by, the concierge recommended Sanraku, a local chain. This location is considered the best, and the fish I had was indeed very tasty.

We completed our evening by walking to the Apple Store and Virgin Megastore. I found 2 CDs of interest, and we got my phone checked out. I would be without it for the remainder of the trip.

Saturday

The only bad side of not planning well was Saturday. We had planned to ride the cable car to Fisherman’s Wharf. I didn’t want to go there, but XS insisted. We walked. That was a long walk.

Once there, we continued on to Ghiradelli Square, another tourist area, where we bought souvenirs and then took another cab back home to the Fairmont.

I was still full from our giant Fairmont buffet breakfast. But XS had booked us a lunch with two friends he knew in D.C., one of which used to work at Capital One. So, we ventured to Chinatown again and had lunch at Ying’s (or some such Y-name). I have to confess, that was a bad meal. Maybe traditional and typical, but wholly uninspired.

More bad planning: I thought the art museum was the “Palace” of fine arts. Whoops. So, we sat outside for awhile, but so much of it was still under construction. So, we visited the Exploratorium which XS didn’t care for. We were both tired. Another trip back to the hotel.

All these trips might have been easier on the pocket had we an understanding of the transit system. Next time.

We decided to upsize dinner at the Prescott Hotel, home to Postrio. I have to say it started well; service was good, but it was big and cramped. I liked the appetizer but not the entrée: my duck tasted too bland. XS didn’t care for his quail, served alongside a waffle with ice cream. Odd.

We were bushed.

Sunday

Sunday was a big day. It was time to leave S.F., but first, we visited the Golden Gate Park in S.F., home to many things to see. We only spent significant time in the Japanese gardens. Having parked and walked-through the de Young museum, I’m anxious to return. The newly-opened science museum was packed with a line. Not to mention the park was packed, it was a race day for runners.

Next, we ventured to the west-side of S.F. to the Richmond neighborhood. Our Garmin helped us find one of two recommended Chinese restaurants XS found, this the Shanghai Dumpling King.

The wait was long, but this small yet clean neighborhood spot was cheap and tasty. The soupy buns were really good (but not better than Joe’s in NYC Chinatown). Next, we drove onto the Golden Gate bridge.

Regret? Not stopping to walk on it.

We travelled north through Sausalito and then east onto Napa.

That night: the French Laundry. I plan to review it separately. Just a few notes: we were able to park right in front of the restaurant. It’s very subtle. Subtle attention in service, subtle flavors, etc. Hardly no decoration. Of course, the meal was great, but we felt stuffed and ready to die afterwards.

Monday

A long day. Before leaving Napa, we snacked for breakfast on Bouchon pastries and then went further north along 29 into Calistoga. No plans, really, but we noticed the infamous castle, and decided to stop.

The Castello di Amorosa is a winery/castle you can tour and visit. We spent over an hour on the paid tour, and it ends with a tasting. By the time we were done, it was just past noon.

A recommendation from the go-ers there at the castle was Rutherford Grill, in Rutherford (further south). We stopped there, and after a short wait, were seated.

I had a cheeseburger; XS had the infamous ribs. Both were outstanding. The burger was excellent, very smoky, excellent quality all around. A real treat.

We left there, not sure to visit another winery, or head back to S.F. After some indecision, we gassed-up, and trekked to Berkeley.

Among the things to see there were the university and the famous record store, Amoeba. After finding a parking garage, we got rain gear. The fog was thick and heavy. Gloomy day. We found the Amoeba store on foot, then walked briefly through campus. The famous archway was under construction. Oh well.

Berkeley surprised me. Home to legends Ruth Reichl and Alice Waters, I expected more. It looked old, a bit run-down. Oh well.

From there, we headed to the airport. Traffic was worse than I imagined, but we had plenty of time. Without the Garmin, I would have been lost.

So, those are the basics. I arrived home Tuesday, and am now planning to go to bed. Back to work! For more photos, visit my Flickr group.

GeoTagging

I’m really in love with the concept of geotagged photos. These are photographs where the location of the camera is embedded with the digital actual photo stored on your memory card (in a digital camera). Before going on my recent trip, I assumed all the latest cameras had this feature, and almost bought one.

What I was looking for was a high-quality point and shoot camera. My research told me only one model actually does this, and it’s the Nikon P6000. It has a built-in GPS receiver and does geotagging. It’s up to other software to take these codes and place them on a map or identify their location. In other words, the camera records 44 degrees north by 25 degrees west, and software like Flickr (for sharing photos) or Google Maps (for finding locations) identifies this location.

Why are geotagged photos valuable? I think this is valuable because it’s very useful metadata to have. “Here’s a picture of Susan in front of this giant bridge, and yes, to get back here, go to these coordinates.” But think of it this way… you can create a map where all of your photos were taken.

Of course, it is possible to take geotagged photos with other equipment aside from the P6000. Many cell phones with GPS capabilities (including the iPhone and iPhone 3G) record geographical data, and many add-ons to higher-end cameras now add geotagging data (memory cards and battery grips).

We were snapping away on part of the road trip off of the Golden Gate bridge and it would be nice (now) to know where those spots actually were.

Imagine you were house hunting, and shooting candidates. You’d know precisely where those homes were.

Of course, Google has already geotagged photos as part of their Street View program in Google Earth/Maps. But what makes geotagging compelling to me is this:

If folks are sharing their own geotagged photos, we’re building an enormous library of data about the world around us… what if GPS systems in cars could tap-into this data and show us the most recent photos from intersections, roadways, and points of interest?

Social computing is still under development.

Bach – IGA

Wow! BWV 1063 is a piece for three keyboards. I also have one or more versions for three violins, which works… here’s a stand-out peformance (again) from Il Giardino Armonico.

Telemann – Il giardino Armonico

Does it ever get any better than this?

This is my favorite movement of all of Telemann’s Paris Quartets, and this is preformed superbly! Great find on YouTube.

Dress

I’m very pleased with many outcomes from the November 4th election.

But I must agree, the dress Mrs. Obama wore Tuesday night wasn’t great.

I don’t like it on the model, and I don’t like it any better on Mrs. Obama.

Of course, the Obamas may not have been paying anyone consulting fees on their dress, either.

Beach Ball of Death

Did you know the so-called “Beach Ball of Death” on Macs is actually a killer vegetable?

Memory

Tonight I played a piece of music on the piano, and the harmony and timbre of notes at one point brought me back (in the recesses of my brain) to a time when I was visiting my grandmother’s apartment.

Yes, it had been some time since I’d thought of that place. I found it on the Google. Located there, in the picture, is grandma’s apartment building, and even the place to the right, where we’d park. Once, someone siphoned gas out of her tank.

The memory was connected to a smell that the place had; I equated it with an old-person’s smell. So many older people lived there, she called it “raisin row,” referring to her fellow tenants who were ripe in age.

What I remembered especially was how if you went to the basement level, you could connect with the adjacent building, which was even stronger in its smell, but the carpet and interior had different colors. Hers was blue, I think the other one was color-themed “green.”

She lived on the second floor. I don’t remember the number, but I could still find it, I’m sure of it.

Once, walking from the street parking, to the front door, I was carrying a clock toy I’d been given. Walking up, I’d dropped it, and being made of plastic, it fell apart. It was broken. I was so upset, I cried and cried. She’d hoped some friend of hers, a man named Rudy, could fix it; at least I held onto the hope that he could.

My grandmother later moved out of Raisin Row, and moved in with us, after we’d moved away to another town. But what I remember, too, before, was the time she said goodbye to her friend Martha.

Martha lived downstairs, and had called my grandmother, telling her she didn’t feel well. My grandmother told her on the phone that she’d check in on her later, after her soap opera was over on the television.

When she called an hour later, Martha didn’t pick up the phone.

She let herself into Martha’s apartment, and found her cold in her bed. Martha was dead.

We later got Martha’s electric broom to use since her daughter gave it to my grandmother.

That’s what is still in my head. I think it’s pretty cool you can visit your childhood home (and see the hospital you were born in) without having to actually go there. Too bad they don’t have “Street View” there.

It’s when I think about how long ago that all was that I realize now how old I am. Savor life and its opportunities. And when a friend calls, don’t put them on hold. It might be too late.

Richmond Folk Festival

Over the past two years, I avoided the National Folk Festival held in Richmond. This year, they’ve maintained it as a local event.

I rather enjoyed the day, although no one music act really excited me. I could have stayed longer, but I spent more time walking around the city and shooting photos.

More photos are available via Flickr.

The Real McCain

Let’s not play these games…

Barack Obama

We cannot expect one man to heal every wound, to solve every major crisis of policy. So much of the Presidency, as they say, is a matter of waking up in the morning and trying to drink from a fire hydrant. In the quiet of the Oval Office, the noise of immediate demands can be deafening. And yet Obama has precisely the temperament to shut out the noise when necessary and concentrate on the essential. The election of Obama—a man of mixed ethnicity, at once comfortable in the world and utterly representative of twenty-first-century America—would, at a stroke, reverse our country’s image abroad and refresh its spirit at home.

• The New Yorker endorses Barack Obama

London Calling

I was last in London in 1995. I’d like to go back, after seeing these pictures taken at night (via the Big Picture).

Claremont

This is, I believe, what the Internet was invented for. Claremont, a film by Ari Marcopoulos.

Adam Kimmel presents: Claremont HD from adam kimmel on Vimeo.

Wasting Kitchen Equipment

Today I learned about a woman who, well, spends too much money. I’m often wishing not to judge others on how they spend, but after learning about this woman, I thought, “Gee, she should meet my mother. They might cancel one another out.”

Nothing too lavish mind you, but one habit of hers is to buy lots of books. Paperbacks, yes, but they must arrive in pristine condition. She places each book lovingly on her shelf, but instead of reading it, it’s there for “safe keeping.” She then goes to the library, or borrows the same book, and reads that copy. Why? She can’t stand to think that her pristine copies might have creases in the binding.

So, with someone who is obviously in some debt, who no doubt borrows more than her share from her poor husband’s wallet, listen to how she outfits her kitchens. That’s right, as a married couple, they’ve moved three times. And each time, she’s discarded her old “kitchen ware” for… new. Why? It has to match the new decor, of course.

Vegetable peelers, trivets, some pots and pans, the coffee maker, the whole lot. Everything in drawers and cabinets got dumped. New home, new kitchen stuff. Might be nice.

This is where it clicked. “Mom!” My mother some years ago, after moving in their new home south of here, re-did the kitchen. New cabinets, new countertops, new stove, oven, dishwasher–the works. They even pained the walls a new color. Needless to say, this renovation cost my parents good money. Yet, when I was last there, I couldn’t believe my eyes.

After spending thousands on the new kitchen (including the nice floor), my mom still had kitchen ware that was… sadly in disrepair. Brand new, silent dish washer, yes. Small knives with no sharp blades, dirty old plastic spoons for mixing, and rusted carving knives? Check. I was quite shocked, really, to find the kitchen utencils we grew up with using in the 1980s and 90s in the their kitchen. Still. They had worn themselves out years ago, but my mom kept it all, not replacing one iota of the lot.

But she did acquire a few new things. My dad got her an Emeril-brand cast iron skillet. Since my mom studied chemistry (both in school and professionally), I figured she knew what was in cast iron. Iron. Okay, but what’s special about “iron?” That’s right, it rusts.

This is where the analogy between the free-spending woman and my mom breaks apart. The bottom line, my mom didn’t spend enough when she should have; this woman on the other hand, couldn’t help herself. One lived a life too excessive, the other, too frugal.

But the pan story, while having nothing to do with this comparison, came to mind as I was discussing the similarities with my good friend. “Remember that pan?” “Sure do!”

My mom brought it out to cook in, and I remarked how the side was… rusty. “Why is that pan rusty?” I asked. “It’s Emeril’s. Your father bought it, I hate it. It’s heavy, and it is rusty. I think after this I’m going to throw it out.”

My mom was willing to throw away a perfectly fine cast iron pan for no good reason. But she wouldn’t throw away a $5 vegetable peeler that had run dull in the 90s.

“Why?”

“It’s rusted, look at this…”

“It’s iron. You didn’t wash it in water, did you?”

“Did I wash it in water?!” she almost yelled, sounding incredulous. “Of course I washed it in water, what you have we wash it in?”

“You don’t wash cast iron. You season the pan with oil, and scrub it out with salt after each use. Except maybe for one initial washing, followed by a heating in the oven, it should never come into contact with water.”

“That’s rubbish, I always washed my cast iron in water.”

“And it didn’t rust?”

“Never.”

My mom must have been going crazy. Of course, cast iron would rust. I asked some more, probing her: “So… what are you afraid of, by not washing it?”

“It’d be filthy! You have to cook in a clean pot.”

“Clean? Like… no bacteria clean?”

“Yes, no bacteria. I even use anti-bacterial soap.”

“Ok.. what do you think happens to this “bacteria” (which I emphasized by making those curly quotes with my fingers) when the pan is sitting on the hot stove, with, let’s say, 300 degree oil in it?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

“There’s none there. It died long ago. The pan gets hot, the bad stuff, if there were any, is gone.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“Come on! It’s iron. It’s going to rust!”

“Well, that doesn’t explain why it’s so god-awful heavy.”

“It’s cast iron, all cast iron is god-awful heavy, that’s why people buy it. It lasts and lasts. It holds its heat. It’s a good pan,” I said, now loud and speaking quickly.

She looked at me like I was crazy. “This pan stinks. Look at it! It’s rusted on the side!”

Maybe that was the spend-thrift’s problem. Everything was rusting. It sure worked for my mom. Incidentally, after that dinner, she decided not to throw the pan away. But she was washing it in soapy water.

Smeared Dinner

Tonight I tried out my new LensBaby specialty camera lens out at dinner. Not too dramatic.

I think the salad turned out better.

Vicky, Christina, Barcelona

I am not sure the title of the movie Vicky, Christina, Barcelona deserves commas, but I saw it today.

It’s kind of a not so important movie, but it was entertaining in an insignificant way. Young adult wealthy girls go to Spain for the “summer,” and situations of love ensue. At the end, they leave, somewhat changed, but not entirely much so. It was good, but I am not sure why.

There were some visual sights, a little food, wine, etc., but nothing so much that you’d say it was a film that emphasized any one thing. Not too much scenery, wine, etc. But the Amateur Gourmet couldn’t stop his hunger for Spanish wine after seeing the film. Didn’t get that. I was only thirsty from too much salt on my popcorn.

Caffeine Diet Coke

Note to self:

Drinking caffeinated diet Coke after 9 PM isn’t a good idea on a Sunday night. You may look scary, and feel tired, Monday morning for work.

Bad Words

I recently read a post by John Pash outlining words he does not like.

He included some I am familiar with, including, in no particular order:

• offal
• broth
• chock
• hoary
• verve
• yadda
• zither
• quorum

I find this fascinating, really. That some folks just love certain words, and we also hate certain words. Is it the sound? The spelling? The connotation?

Incidentally, I don’t like offal either. I find it puzzling for the spelling, and I don’t want to eat those parts of animals. Broth sounds… funny too, not sure why, but it comes with slight discomfort. I prefer to say stock myself.

Hoary isn’t a word I hardly ever use, I don’t hate it, but it seems like it hurts or is prickly. Uncomfortable, again.

I do like chock, and I use it often. Yes, I say “It was chock full of…” I don’t think I’ve used it any other way.

Yadda Yadda harks back to Seinfeld, but I use it. A zither is an instrument. My grandmother often made reference to one. I don’t dislike that word, either.

Verve is a word I use a lot. I like it. It reminds me of the record company, and the groovy 70s tunes that once appeared on that label.

That is all. Time to sleep.

Vacation Photos

There’s nothing quite like a well-deserved vacation.

For those interested, more photos from Banff and Calgary, Alberta.

Milestone

This week, I turn thirty-five years old. It feels like a large milestone, I am not sure why. It seems quite some time since I was just twenty-five; yet, thinking about that again, it seems it was just yesterday. It’s funny how our minds play with the passage of time.

It’s also this week that I will be married. Many folks my age are having their kids now, some on their second. Perhaps I’m late to the party, but then again, this was something I’d never have thought I could have done. So, yes, for me, another milestone.

When big things happen, it’s always wise, I feel, to reflect. In the past, what might I have done differently. To the future, where am I, or where are we, headed?

I’ll share what I come up with when I return.

Days with My Father

I recently came across this photo/essay piece online by Phillip Toledano.

Days with My Father

It’s a tale about living with an aging man who has recently lost his wife through his son’s eyes. (And it’s good.)

Did you know?

Previously in my life, I’d spend a lot of time pounding away at a piano for fun and entertainment. Between 1992-1994, I produced the most profound works for keyboard, and thereafter, I’ve “lost” that ability. I failed to play everyday.

I was inspired by two things; this past year at work we showed a video entitled Did you know? and it’s also known by the title Shift Happens. It had a rather good soundtrack that made the video of text and graphics affective. That reminded me of yet another video that had a piano soundtrack, entitled Paying Attention (link). Neat videos, also affective music.

Then that reminded me of several of Philip Glass’ pieces for piano, of which I learned a few back when, and have on CD. In getting a new piano, I was only able to play what I already used to know… and wanted to try something fresh.

What I came up with was this… and I’ve called it… Did You Know? – stolen title from the video. It’s simple, and I don’t think its necessarily “finished” or “polished,” but I’ll take any suggestions towards improvement.

Did You Know? version 1.0 (MP3, 6.2 MB)

For those interested, it was recorded digitally in GarageBand using the PianoTeq engine, with a modified preset “C1 Deep” with Apple’s Matrix Reverb.

Biberfan at the Pianoforte

My first recording of Bach’s first invention, in C-major, for keyboard.

Listen to BWV 772 (mp3 audio).

Bach Inventions

Bach’s two sets (each of 15) “inventions” for the keyboard are among his more famous works; they have popularity because they’re introduced in piano study, but also, because they’re short and rich in thematic ideas. The first 15 are “2 part,” like fugues a 2. The second set are more complex, introducing a third part, like mini fugues a 3.

With my renewed interest in playing the keyboard, I’ve taken to opening my book of Bach inventions to try my hand. I’ve never played one of them, save for #9 in F minor that I recorded several years ago as part of my album, Sonance Remarquer.

This post is about two things: electronic pianos and Bach’s inventions.

First, the pianos. I recently read in a magazine about the PianoTeq system. It gave it “5 stars.” It’s a software piano instrument that works with a lot of computerized sequencing and arranging software, like Logic and Garageband on the Mac. You can also play it alone, both on Mac and PC. When translated into US dollars (as the company is French), it is almost $400. So, this is a significant software purchase.

I downloaded their trial, which lasts for 45 days. I ran into a few problems. First, I enjoyed playing this “instrument.” But they cut out some notes, so you can’t get full enjoyment out of it. That’s reasonable, it’s a trial. The second was, the sounds were so realistic that I missed only having a 76-key keyboard. So, before I went out and bought something new (and the realization too that I really need this?), I bought PianoTeq.

They currently have even more piano sounds available for download, once you buy the product. I should mention that this is one one of the huge sample libraries, such as Ivory. I didn’t try Ivory, as it has gigabytes and gigabytes of samples. This in theory is good, but my hard drives are only so big. PianoTeq by comparison is small, and this is because of its technology. Instead of playing back samples, the software re-creates the acoustic properties of the instrument. Yamaha debuted this type of technology some years ago with their V-series synthesizers and several tone modules. This PianoTeq, however, is specialized just for pianos.

It sounds delicious, mostly. You can tweak the sounds based on a number of parameters, but more exciting for me are the acoustic models of other instruments, such as historic pianos and harpsichords. And while I’ve forced myself to play some now, I’m still a long way off from my capabilities in, say, 1994.

I’m considering buying a new electronic piano or a keyboard controller. The Yamaha SY99 I currently own dates from 1992–a fantastic gift I got at my high school graduation. But I haven’t played its own voices for years–with the advent of better synthesis on the computer, I basically use it as a MIDI controller. It has a great keyboard, but it’s made up of plastic synthesizer keys: great touch sensitivity and aftertouch, not bad for harpsichord, but not great for a real piano feel. As good as PianoTeq sounds, it’s not the real thing without the key feel.

Yamaha and Kurzweil both have instruments that I considered. The Kurzweil is a stage piano with MID control, but its keyboard was far too mushy and “synthesizer” like compared to the graded hammer system in several of the Yamaha keyboards. Yamaha currently sells two stage pianos, one full piano keyboard in synthesizer, and an upcoming piano hammer touch keyboard controller.

• Yamaha CP33 (**), fair
• Yamaha CP300 (***) good
• Yamaha S90 ES (***) good
• Yamaha KX8 (*) butt-ugly

My little stars represent cost. There’s no perfect solution for me, so I’m stuck… and also considering my current piano skills and desire for other costly items, I may just wait. But here’s a run-down:

The CP33 makes its own piano sounds. If I ever wanted to take it someplace, the PianoTeq on my Mac doesn’t have to travel, too.

The CP300 has even more features than the 33, but the big deal is built-in speakers. It’s heavier and larger, for sure, but the flexibility of putting it on your living room, etc., has merit.

The S90ES (where they come up with these names is beyond me) feels, to me, just like the two CP pianos. By their marketing, they should; they all have the so-called “graded hammer touch.” The difference with the S series is that it’s a synthesizer. When I sit down, all the controls are very similar to what I already have on the SY99. But its got the full piano keyobard.

Now, the new-comer, which is not yet for sale, is the KX8. You will also note my descriptions above: this is my assessment of the keyboard looks. I’m an Apple guy, the looks do matter.

The KX8 is boxy and kind of tubby looking. But it’s the cheapest. It doesn’t make sound: it’s a pure keyboard controller, it only sends MIDI signals to my computer. This would be perfect.

But $400-500 separates the two: CP33 vs. KX8. And that money buys you something that makes sound. Tough decisions.

Oh well.

Let me also make some brief comments on Bach’s inventions. I have three complete sets on record: Kenneth Gilbert, Masaaki Suzuki, and Janine Jansen on strings. I like all three recordings, but today listening with the music in front of me, I have some observations:

• Jansen and Co. make some detours from the text to accommodate the range of violin, viola, and cello
• Having individual lines (Jansen again) perform is kind of nice; this was a good CD.
• Gilbert has a wonderful sounding instrument, but the reverb in the recording is too much; it’s also a very loud CD
• Gilbert is most faithful to the text
• Suzuki has a crunchier-sounding harpsichord, but injects some of his own ornamentation into the reading. I like this. His readings also tend to be a little more lively than Gilbert

Whenever I try to explain to someone why I have 3, or 4 or 5 recordings of one work, this is why! All may be good, but each lends the personality of the artist to the work. And these subtle differences can equate to profound emotional responses from the listener. Finding the differences, for one, can be a lot of fun!

Shut Up

I rarely talk about political things online–it’s not that I’m not interested, it’s just that my interest is too low to do any position any justice.

But I had to share this, from Mr. Olberman on MSNBC.

I thought it was remarkable.

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.