Biber by Bismuth

Since discovering the recording of HIF Biber’s Rosenkranz or “Mystery” Sonatas by Patrick Bismuth, I’ve been after more by the French violinist. The most recent find was his book four of sonatas by Jean-Marie Leclair. Here, then, was my original June, 13, 2005 review of Bismuth with his ensemble, La Tempesta.

Patrick Bismuth, with ensemble La Tempesta, records the Rosary Sonatas by HIF Biber, ZigZag Territories, (p) 2005

I love recordings that make me smile. This is such an example. You think you know a work well, right? And you’ve got a few key recordings en-grained into your head, and then comes along a performer, and here, really an ensemble, that bends the rules, plays differently, and the result is near sublime. Where Alice Piérot used a “zoo’s worth” of continuo, that many times “got into the way,” here, the zoo is back, but it is tamed so that our star shines in front. From the wonderful opening in the Annunciation, Biber’s first mystery sonata, to the tender beginning of the Nativity (#3), we begin to appreciate Bismuth’s style. The second style of the Nativity pulses like a dance, even though it’s not forced upon us. Here, too, we can really focus on Bismuth’s playing style, which for me, deserves some explanation. First, he plays all the sonatas on the same instrument, which has a remarkable veiled, French sound. Bismuth’s strength in terms of his playing sound is his ability to really vary dynamics especially well on different notes, much to the benefit of the musical line and on strong/weak beats. Changes in dynamic are a powerful component to his style of playing.

Another component which I am far less enamored by is his use of vibrato. He manages to suppress it in sections, for no discernible reason, but then it shows up again, even in double stops. It’s not a modern-style vibrato, but one that is slow, yet, wide enough to grate on my nerves at times… this is definitely coloring the sound of his instrument, and I simply would care for much less of it. And yes, this is peppered throughout each track. With that negative out of the way, I happily report that his style of playing, in terms of rhythm and precision is a delight. He sounds as if he is the most relaxed player you ever did hear, jumping from the easy, melodic sections, right into the faster, technical passages that Biber throws the violin. You almost get the sense that Bismuth is easy on his feet, and might be a good dancer… he’s a technically polished musician, but his freeness and his ability to simply float above the bass, with an almost effortless feel when he plays, is remarkable. The sound quality on this recording is good; it’s a bit live, but the instruments are well balanced and the violin is miked closed enough to grab every detail. Different continuo instruments realize the bass, and the combination and choices sound like good solutions. I will comment again on this issue: I am not sure Biber would have ever performed the works with such variety, but, Ensemble La Tempesta does a good job here, they really support the music; the gamba player is especially good, some of my smiles were a result of what I heard down low, too.

In Biber’s sonata, translated “Carrying of the Cross,” the music opens in a solemn sound world, and the Affekt of all the instruments together is contemplative, painful, and at the same time, delicious. After the opening, Biber moves to a courante and the courante’s double. My only complaint in the courante is that shaking left hand, again. It’s appropriate in spots, yes, but I almost want to suggest that Bismuth lays off the liquor. An unfair association to the sound, but that’s what comes to mind. In rising lines, we hear the busy work made of both the organ and the gamba… good stuff, hidden away, like truffles in the dirt. When the notes get fast, Bismuth is at the ready, good intonation throughout, and I sit smiling, admiring the richness of sound and harmony that Biber and these musicians have contributed to my ears. In a personal favorite, Descent of the Holy Spirit Bismuth opens with a fuller continuo, pulls back, and then lays it in on an extended bass note, until the harmony finally resolves… the retuning of his violin exhibits some of the uneven qualities of the instrument, but this is no flaw, this is what happens in scordatura. I believe it would be his “D” string that projects far less. An incredible intimacy is brought to light during the opening of the sonata’s gavotte. The sound world grows in intensity as the repeats are performed with added continuo. The ornaments realized in the gigue are technically fun, at least fun sounding. While the speed here isn’t breakneck, the pulse of the dance’s rhythm is quite strong and foot tapping is sure to accompany your listen, as it did mine. All of the new Biber Mystery Sonatas I have picked up as late have something good to offer the listener. It is, perhaps this recording, however, above the others, that does more for illuminating Biber’s music.

A good recording, a keen sense of rhythm and musical line, and a colorful continuo team here promote the discs to the forefront. Bismuth’s manner of playing is interesting enough to surprise us, to delight us, and I very warmly recommend this recording. I do have reservations in his “sound,” which is unique, that vibrato. Yet, even so, it would be criminal to avoid this disc for this matter alone. A well-planned and executed recording.

Virtuoso Cantatas

Back in April of 2005, I purchased my recording featuring the falsettist, Philippe Jaroussky. Since that I time, I now own quite a few more recordings by this young French countertenor. In retrospect, the music contained on this CD is rather light than the material he’d later record. Among my favorites is his Monteverdi album with Christina Pluhar.

Vivaldi: Arias, cantatas sung by Philippe Jaroussky. (p) 2005 by Virgin Classics/EMI, performing RV 670, 677, 728, 671, 47, 674, 778, 676.

Over the years, I have found different people’s abilities to listen, appreciate, and tolerate classical music has many times worked or failed depending on which genre of music was being considered: vocal or instrumental. I think more folks prefer instrumental music over vocal. With “classical” music, many times, the language used is not English, and the association people have with classical singing is with opera, which for many folks, is simply not something they enjoy, appreciate, or have the desire to know. This is a stereotype, yes, but one that rings true with a large segment of the population. I myself didn’t care to listen to vocal music until I had already been seduced by sometime with instrumental numbers. This past year, with several purchases of the baroque literature, I noticed a singer whose name was unfamiliar, but whose voice was rich and inviting: Philippe Jaroussky. He recently put out a Vivaldi Virtuoso Cantatas CD with Ensemble Artaserse, and I find it very enjoyable. Some might be surprised, however, to find this affective singer is male. Jaroussky joins a growing number of male singers known as countertenors, who sing in a head voice typically in the alto range, but some, like Jaroussky, can extend further into soprano territory. The 68-minute CD includes a couple instrumental interludes, my very favorite cello sonata (RV 47), and an improvised prelude on theorbo. The continuo-group Ensemble Artaserse peforms on original instruments. For the cello work, they may be too closely miked, but their readings are interesting enough to stand up to any others you may run across. The music chosen for this CD is rich in affect, and for me at least, offers some new Vivaldi numbers to my collection. Jaroussky’s voice is simply stunning in all ranges of style and pitch. He does for the voice what a baroque violin does for baroque violin music: it dispenses of all that messy vibrato and comes across clean, and clear. Jaroussky possesses for me in these works all the best attributes of other well-known countertenors: Scholl, Asawa, Blaze, etc. His voice is clear, his attention to detail palpable, and his voice is simply very easy to listen to. I of course have seen the eyebrows raise when folks unfamiliar with period performance hear countertenors… if you excuse your expectations, and listen to the artistry of what’s before you, the result can be quite engaging. Several of the tracks on this recording have important parts for bass instrument: in some cases it’s cello, in others, bassoon is used. In each case, the instrumentalists are on top form, my favorite the gutsy, fat bassoon sound from Jeremie Papasergio. Despite my feeling that some too-close miking might have been employed at parts, the balance between instruments, the stereo image, and the vocalist are prime in this new recording on Virgin Classics. Warmly recommended. This is a voice that’s a fantastic listen. The fact that Vivaldi’s music is delicious helps make this a true winner.

Trio Hantaï

Back in January, 05, I reviewed a concert here in Richmond of the Hantaï brothers.

On Tuesday evening, at 7:30 PM, I attended a recital by the three Hantaï brothers with violinist Ryo Terakado at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in Richmond. Their concert consisted of the Pièces de clavecin en concerts by Jean-Phillipe Rameau.

The trio consists of three brothers (Marc, flute; Pierre, harpsichord, and Jerome, viol da gamba)… the most famous, most likely, is the keyboard virtuoso whose recordings I have reviewed more than once here on biberfan.org. He was certainly the most charismatic of the performers; the verve of a conductor was within him; with moments with hands off keyboard, he’d gesticulate in the manner of a conductor and seemed to be feeling the music throughout his whole body.

Another strong player was the Japanese baroque violinist. I own his own recording of these works (with Christophe Rousset). There were a short number of moments where intonation was suspect, however I am sure no one noticed. When playing together with the flute, their intonation together was quite remarkable… since Rameau only wrote three lines (violin, harpsichord, and viol), the flute part was a bit of a improvisation… in some instances, Marc Hantaï played the violin line; other times, he’d turn it over to Mr. Terakado. And in other instances, they’d play in unison… Terakado played in a true baroque style (as did Pierre on harpsichord), with a dizzying array of ornaments that really help define the word baroque for us. Terakado whipped them off with hardly a wink… Hantaï’s flute playing, while not a major portion of the ensemble’s program, was very noteworthy… his tone was remarkably even throughout the registers… I often recall baroque transverse flutes being extremely weak in the low register, and thinner and even out of tune in the higher registers; he seemingly effortlessly command the gamut of his instrument with excellent intonation, dexterity, and an evenness in tone and volume.

Sitting back during the first half, the gamba was my least favorite of the instruments being played. It simply got lost in the texture, and I became suspicious at certain points with regard to intonation. It wasn’t until the second half of the program, when we moved to the front row at request of the performers, did the gamba take on a more assured role, with good intonation and better voice through the trio texture.

The performance of Rameau’s works got tiresome at some points… his use of repeats was a bit much… Jerome Hantaï did the most to bring our attention to changes in dynamics; at some points he’d blast forth enough to drown-out his fellow musicians–this didn’t bother me, he spoke musically with more energy than required, but the gestures were nice breaks from Rameau’s simple, but evident counterpoint.

Terakado’s instrument vanished from perception a few times; the upper register of his instrument sounded veiled compared to the bass; it was in instances such as the fourth concert’s La Rameau where he really shined with a break-neck speed and clarity. At one point during La Forqueray things almost lost cohesion with the ensemble; nevertheless, the one constant among the players was Pierre on harpsichord (on loan from Williamsburg), who seemed at complete ease with the difficult music. We could see his hands bouncing about with some cross-handed playing, and those omnipresent ornaments.

During the recital I felt a few times that “these guys don’t like to slow down; they keep a pretty even tempo throughout…” When listening to the Rousset recording, they do much the same; in comparison, I preferred the Hantaï/Terakado tempos over those by Rousset.

In the end, it was ultimately refreshing to hear these familiar works performed live, and with the additional color of flute. It was most definitely a celebration of Rameau; I would have perferred, perhaps, a mixed program. I caught Mr. Terakado performing a Bach solo work during the ensemble’s warmup before concert time.

My only wish is that more Richmonder’s could have taken advantage of this intimate gathering of excellent music making. We very seldom get performers of this quality in town; I couldn’t help but notice the ensemble looked surprised when they came into the sanctuary at how few people were in attendance.

Torelli

Back in June of 2005, I listened to a new CD of concertos by Torelli. Wow: it was a little harsh.

Collegium Musicum 90 under Simon Standage record Concertos by Giuseppe Torelli (p) 2005 Chandos Records.

10 concertos, 77 minutes, trumpets, strings, must all culled from Torelli’s opus 8, a more mature collection of the Neapolitan’s works. I don’t know much about Torelli, personally, I know a quadruple concerto recorded some years ago by Musica Antiqua, and from my own study of the baroque, know he was a formulaic composer of concertos, and his writing for trumpet also stands out in my memory. We wonder, then, why Torelli isn’t more often recorded? Standage and company take the concertos with a large ensemble (8+ violins, etc.) but also with smaller forces, for variety’s sake.

The recording was made at All Saints’ Church in London, and was recorded at 24 bit: “these improvements [in digital recording] now let you the listener enjoy more of the natural clarity and ambience of the ‘Chandos sound.’”

I don’t like the sound. Not sure it’s the saintly part, or the Chandos part, but in a concerto like op 8 no 4, with Standage and Elizabeth Weiss opposite, the sound is far too wet, there’s such boom with the lower register, it cancels out, it seems, a lot of detail. Maybe it’s my headphones, but listening on the hifi didn’t make much improvement. While we’re pitting director against the leader of second violins, I should say, Ms. Weiss sounds angular and rough in comparison to the leader. What I like least, however, is the mushy sound that’s left when the ensemble does things like trill together. As any musician recognizes and merits technical precision, we might too, if we could hear it in that awful plume of sound where everything but clarity might be found.

Chandos and CM90 sold me a record many years ago with music by Marcello. The playing was okay, but the music stunk like last week’s garbage. It wasn’t worthy enough, in my estimation, to commit to record. I always had hoped I wouldn’t run into that again. This record, however, comes the closest to any other, I must confess, I’m not a big fan of it.

Here are my complaints. First, for the composer:

• Big ensembles may work in some instances, but I think your music stands better with small, one on a part players.
• Some of your ideas are so simplistic, and harmonically stale that we soon lose interest. Please only give your music to musicians who are willing to improvise and extrapolate upon your simpleton ideas.
• Give more direction in your scores for dynamic variation. I see the opportunities are there, but evidently you never wrote these in the score. I half-blame you, because three-quarters of the population of musical composers in your time period didn’t do anything like this, either.
• Perhaps you should have studied the ritornello-solo structure used by Vivaldi. Some say he got his from you, but talk to the man, you might have learned something, or two… despite my jabs, you’re not all bad, Torelli, some of your mature work reminds me of one of the first concertos I wrote. Awkward transitions of key, and the like…

Next, for the ensemble:

• Your recording is exceptionally top-heavy. You’re using what? Cellos? Bass violins? Double bass? Organ? It’s a shame we can’t hear any of this. I mean, I hear the organ, and the lute, but it’s all very washed out and it sounds like a system whereby we simple disconnected the sub-woofer.
• Let’s get a little more creative with dynamics. I hear them in the music, after all. Certainly, you can too?
• In the middle of Op. 8, no.8 (C minor), there’s these wonderful opportunities to really shine as a soloist. Torelli’s setting up this opportunity for pontification of his (simple) ideas… it seems we’re not up to taking them?
• The playing is good, for the most part; I detect some unevenness with regards to intonation in a couple spots, but generally you guys pass well: you play the notes, and maintain rhythm. But I want you to excite me. Some of the tracks simply bore me.
• Listen to the middle movement to op 8 no 6… sounds Vivaldian with those big repeated chords… dot dot dot dot… then a nice smooth legato line in between, right? You’re playing all the notes, but where’s the style? and the next movement? All those nice ornaments sound like mush again… it’s not you guys on that, I know, it’s the recording… but come on…

This recording is not one I’d highly recommend. I am not sure why, but it sits on my shelf here as a bland release. Torelli’s music, of interest to scholars, is performed here, but we now know why he’s not rolling off the tongues of today’s musical patrons like the names Vivaldi, Bach, or Mozart. He didn’t have the same level of giftedness as a composer. Meanwhile, CM90 sounds stodgy (just a bit), and undynamic, in a world that has since brushed the dust off music through energetic performances (say, IGA, Europa Galante, Rare Fruits, etc.). The trumpet playing (Perkins, Blackadder) is good, I only wish they were playing with singleton forces, as I think the music would sing more. I used to really like Standage’s music, but this release for me shows a lack of strong direction. Music played well, but without real style. And this music, frankly, could use some style to sell.

Higher Def Audio

I’ve been tempted as of late to try some online services that sell music not in compressed formats. Today I purchased two albums from Linn records in Scotland. Their digital downloads come in three flavors: mp3, cd quality, or “studio masters.” I downloaded 24 bit flac files, and the albums each weighed in at around 1 GB. I used a program to convert those to Apple lossless. I edited the album info, then added their HQ artwork via iTunes.

More trouble than amazon or iTunes store for sure. But the sound has a perceptible improvement! Smoothness would best describe the quality. Also a tinge more “liveness” to the sound. Dynamics, perhaps?

It’s akin to a small hifi upgrade. I just hope it gets easier to procure more albums more easily soon.

Buxtehude Sonatas , op. 2, and Vivaldi, op. 8, part two, both featuring violinist Stefano Montanari.

Fish

Yoga Lady and Yawning

While on vacation, I decided to participate in an early yoga class on the beach. I’d recently started studying yoga, and I thought since I’d miss my regular class, I might as well make up for it by taking this one. After all, how often do you get to stretch on a beautiful beach to the sound of waves? Me, not often.

When we arrived, a number of people had already showed up to participate from the resort. They gave us towels to use as mats on the sand. We chose to make a new, “third row” behind folks already there, since it was out of the sun, and out of the direct vision of other “yogis” who likely had more experience than us. I was no sooner putting down my towel when one of the other class participants approached me about how I had chosen a bad place to exercise.

“I don’t think you want to be back here… I participated yesterday, and the instructors like you up close. I mean, you won’t be able to hear her…”

“That’s okay,” I said, hoping she’d give up. But no, she’s the yoga lady and she’ll keep trying until she wins.

“Sir, yesterday there were only two rows… why don’t you move over there… you’ll be better off.”

I began to wonder why she even cared. But no matter the initial impulse, she was bound and determined to get me to move.

As I watched her fidget after ignoring her, I looked on as more and more participants came onto the beach. By the time the instructor arrived, she told us “this is one of the biggest groups I’ve had.” I’m sure glad there was a new third row.

“I’m not sure you guys are going to have enough space back there? People like to put their belongings in the back.” I just looked at her. She tried again: “There’s a space that opened up over there… that’s a prime spot. If you don’t take it, I think I will!”

We stood our ground, and when she turned around yet again, this time so fidgety that she looked bothered like a female cat in heat, I decided to talk at her.

“Listen. Good morning and all of that. You obviously have a problem where I have positioned myself here for this class. If I make you uncomfortable, then I most certainly apologize. But you need to stop talking. You are not going to convince me to move anywhere else on this beach. You don’t own it and you can move yourself anywhere you’d like to be that’s more comfortable. Do you understand me?”

She looked at me, and said, “Well! Have you even taken yoga before? If you’re new to it, you’ll need a clear view of the instructor and I’m not sure you’ll get a good view back here, that’s all. I just want you to enjoy the experience.”

“Is that right? You’re looking out for me, eh?”

She didn’t immediately reply.

“Maybe we could make room in—”

I interrupted her and said “Shut up.” And that, quite astonishingly, did the trick.

I’ll never know why she was so set on getting us to move. I decided later she’s been taking a mind control course where she is personally challenged each day to get someone to do something they don’t want to do. I can only surmise, but I bet she chose me because I yawned when I got to the beach. She picks from those who yawn.

Satiny Skin without Wrinkles

One morning eating breakfast (tropical fruits and French pastries), I was reading one of the Hawaiian newspapers. In it was an article from a woman who evidently writes for the local paper. I believe she lived in Honolulu. But that doesn’t matter.

She was writing a light piece for women, evidently, but I took to reading it. It was her discovery, by way of an old woman, about a beauty secret. In involved olive oil and sugar. She claimed that she’d been doing it now three times a week to her face.

You take a tablespoon or less of EVOO and 1 teaspoon of granulated sugar. She confessed to using powered sugar because she has sensitive skin, which then led me to believe she was getting no benefit from the sugar at all. And what kind of writer wouldn’t have tested this out on more people? But I digress… you can either make a paste of these two common kitchen ingredients, or put the sugar on after the oil. You rub them into your face. The OO moisturizes your skin, and according to this woman, the types of molecules in EVOO help ease wrinkles in the skin. The sugar exfoliates your skin. Then, after leaving it on for a short while, you rinse your face with warm water and a mild soap.

So I gave it a try. I know I have to do it twice more before I can attest to the beneficial effects. The sugar wasn’t too scratchy, and the oil gave me the sensation I was too messy at the local Italian place I like where you dip your ciabatta in EVOO and salt. But, my face is smooth, and as the woman said in the piece, this treatment is cheaper than expensive creams for sale with French labels.

No Meat, no Wheat

One evening we had dinner under the stars. When we arrived, this fabulous violin and guitar duo were performing live, and no matter what they played, it had a zest to it that seemed to perfectly match the ocean breezes, the setting sun, and the emerging stars just above us.

Then, a table opened up not far from ours. Two women came to eat, and (at least) one of them had a child with her. I tried to listen to them, for one, to see if they were perhaps friends or something more significant. The woman with brown hair did most of the talking; the lady with short white hair either did not talk, or talked so low that her utterances were undetectable by my now aging ears.

As it turned out, the brunette was engaging the waiter first about the seat for the baby, and then next, what the vegetarian options were. “She doesn’t eat meat,” she told the waiter, gesturing towards her dining partner. Later, another waiter emerged, and she was asking him about noodles. “Do you have any noodles that aren’t made with wheat? She can’t eat the wheat…”

Then I thought it very curious. This poor woman can’t eat meat or wheat. And they rhyme. Only in English does this woman’s condition (or prefernce) come with tongue-in-cheek comedy, not meat nor wheat!. She asked about rice noodles with tofu, I believe, and then I wondered why they hadn’t tried an Asian restaurant instead of an Italian one, specializing in wood oven-baked pizzas.

Big Ear Jims

Yes, on the plane again… and this time, after several legs of my trip, I keep getting put behind large, older men. They all have two things in common: they have big ears, and they like to put their seats back as far as they go.

At one level, I can’t blame these folks… planes have such little personal space that you’ll do just about anything to gain more, including, pushing your seat back. But this really isn’t a personal decision. Because once someone puts their seat back, they’ve pretty much just affected everyone behind them, too. You now stole my space, sir, and I too am going to have to recline. So, as Jim in row 4, seat B puts his seat back, so does everyone else behind him, at least in the seat B position. I took notice that only very stickly-thin older women elected not to recline when presented with this conundrum. This must mean that stickly-thin women are the ones that have designed the seats with all the space we each are provided.

And you can’t blame people next to Jim reclining too. At first recline, it looks like (from both your and Jim’s perspective), that’s you’ve made more space for yourself because the person in front hasn’t yet reclined. Free space!

But I digress. “Jim” isn’t content enough to put back his chair. All the “Jims” do similar things once they’ve depressed that armchair button and pushed back with their gut muscle. They keep doing it! They keep pushing back, harder and harder, rocking the seat, to make sure they’ve secured every last centimetre of space allotted their seat’s reclining function. Jim #1 might do it straight away, but other Jims will do it mid-flight.

And these Jims, with big ears, also will fiddle with their headrest. Some headrests will move, and some will “wrap around” your head. I am not sure who is responsible for telling you this, but these “Jims” have found this out, and are taking full advantage of it. They’re pulling on the things, caressing the little flaps against their giant ears, and yes, they’re rocking back harder and harder, as if this meager chair is to succumb to them as their new favorite La-Z-Boy.

Meanwhile, all of their seat jostlery is making my fold-out tray bounce around. I have to pick up my can of soda to make sure it doesn’t end up in my lap. And forget about propping-up my iPad to watch a video! One guy made my iPad fall so many times that his wife actually turned her head to see what the crash was her husband had created.” Yes, that’s aluminum hitting plastic, ma’am. Quit your damned coughing already, okay?

Luckily I didn’t encounter any “Laura’s” on this trip. This type is a woman with long, flowing hair, who likes to fluff it, play with it, and in so doing, has you sneezing because a number of her hairs are now flirting under your nose, causing you to wretch and sneeze.

The Cougher

On a recent flight I took, there was a woman seated in the row ahead of me. She was not directly in front of me, but in front of my partner. She was with her husband, a large man whom I took issue with soon after the flight left for reasons I will share in another entry.

She was coughing. In fact, she coughed throughout the flight. This bothered me not so much for the noise, but for the fact that she coughed freely. She made no precautionary effort to cover her mouth. She coughed openly and freely, as much as a gifted orator would shift his head triumphantly from the left to the right as he spoke to a large crowd. “Hear my words!” he said, fist raised. “Hear my cough,” she thought, her hands resting comfortably in her lap.

I should mention that I think this is ludicrous. There was a baby one row ahead of them, and baby or not, no one on that plane wanted this lady’s germs. Maybe she knew she wasn’t sick, and she had a dry cough. No matter. Coughing openly as she did clearly is spreading her personal vapors off her person and into the air that you and I too have to breathe. Out of courtesy for fellow man, she could have covered her mouth with a hand, with a kerchief, or better yet, she could have triumphantly coughed into the closed chasm of her elbow-pit.

Not impressed, ma’am.

The Illusion of Safety

Flying three legs, each way, to get on to my vacation (and back), I had my share of adventures on airplanes. I experienced an SD-80, a comfortable 767, several 757s, and the venerable 737. On each flight, we gave our fullest attention towards an informative video presentation on the safety features of the aircraft in question. Despite the different designs of planes, the video was always the same. In fact, the seat-back flyer that shows you the specifics about your plane was very similar on each flight. I noted this when I was reading the insert and the pictures of the plane in the guide were not the one of our model of plane. It showed engines under the wing, when clearly on this plane, the engines were in the rear.

Despite this irregularity, it wasn’t the seat-back pocket safety guide that bothered me. It was the details about the life vests. I don’t know if you’ve paid much attention to these things. First, it’s quite clear that you do not deflate these things while in the plane. The video is quite clear on this. Imagine the insanity that would ensue when dozens of people are trying to emerge out of the plane, each looking like Michelin men! But the details get foggy after that. Second, they note that your seat cushion may be used as a flotation device. This “maybe” type of status bothers me. I have a feeling that on some planes, the cushion doesn’t float. But can’t the instructions for my plane be clear enough that it’s obvious if my cushion indeed floats? Third, do you recommend using the cushion or the vest? And why is there a choice? I have no doubt thought this out.

My particular airline this time was American. In the video, they show you three different places where the vest may be located. Beneath the seat (in a spot so obfuscated for the video that they likely had prepared a prop seat to take the footage), between the seat (they show larger chairs, must be first class), or in some other location so muffled and obfuscated in the video we have no idea where location three is. There’s no way I could get down on my knees to find this vest given the cramped spaces they provide for passengers. My bet would have been on the seat cushion.

But beyond this, I am wondering how this would all work out in an actual emergency. Granted, I don’t want to find out for real, but again, I’ve been thinking about this long enough to question it hypothetically. The pull-out guide shows two positions for bracing yourself in a crash. These are not realistic, again, because they show far too much room between the seats. Second, they warned us on the video not to take our luggage. I might want to take mine, but seeing how long it takes folks to deplane in a calm matter, we’d all be 20 leagues under the sea before folks could get out their luggage. So, let’s say the plane goes down. Let’s say the pilot is another “Sculley” and lands it well. Let’s assume the doors open and the big raft is deployed (they one they mention is in the ceiling of the aircraft, but do not ever tell you, exactly, where it is located). Let’s assume that the majority of passengers are not panicking. What’s next?

Someone is going to disobey the instructions, and try to take their bags. There’s going to be shoving to get out of the plane, as water begins coming in. Communication will be shut down with cries and pandemonium. Some person will find a vest, and stupidly try to deploy it on the plane, by pulling the cord. In short, the likelihood that we all get out safely is almost doomed from the start. Luckily the folks who landed recently in the Hudson River survived and the system “worked” for them. What could the airlines do to improve this?

1. Customize all communications about safety to the aircraft you are in. In fact, it could be customized for the seat I’m in. And they could e-mail me everything before my flight takes off.
2. Give customers a large space to sit in. I’m overweight and riding an airplane in economy is painful. But I’m not alone. While the medical professionals may not like our size, look around! You’d be doing everyone a service by providing more space between the seats. They know this, they already do it in first class.
3. Clearly label the safety equipment with a standardized color and label. Make it clear where the oxygen mask comes from (and don’t kid me: inflate the sucker, I’ll know it’s working), where my life vest is located, and show me how to remove my seat. Now that I’ve said this much, let me add a few more suggestions that aren’t squarely aimed at safety, but could only help it, as a side-benefit.
4. The zoned seating is a farce. Watching people creep towards the gate ahead of their zone being called is human nature. The biggest obstacle in getting people on a plane quickly is the hand-luggage. Skip the zoned seating. And,
5. Get rid of carry-on luggage. I know, you’re staying the weekend… you don’t want to check your bags. But your bags, sir, slow everyone down. It’s a comedy watching people stuff those big things into the tight spaces. And I know why you do it: they’re charging us now for the big bags. Instead, here’s a suggestion: give everyone the same amount of cargo space. Have it labeled. Give your bag to the airport ahead of your flight, and let them scan it, and pre-load it into your own personal compartment. You won’t have access to it during the flight, but you’re allowed to bring a light purse or messenger bag to carry on your person in the seat. Before you deplane, the luggage compartments are opened, and you take your bag as you deplane. Yes, I realize they’d have to re-design the aircraft. But that’s a given already if you reduce the number of seats.
6. Don’t make people sit next to strangers, that inevitably means at some point, you’re going to have to crawl over them to use the toilet. Provide enough space to allow folks to move about on their own.

Thank you.

Priorities

I’m not sure what I’m doing with this blog anymore… it seems to be the most personal of places I have to blog, but I’m not sure who even reads it. I simply don’t have time to pour into it my love of music that it once stood for.

I recently took a trip to Hawai‘i, Maui to be specific. Since coming back home, it’s put into focus for me several priorities I need to take on in my life. I’m not sure if it was the majestic volcanic craters, the ocean breezes, or simply spending time with the most important person in my life that got me thinking.

But who cares?! When you see changes to be made and believe in the effort required to take them on, you’d be silly not to move ahead. I’m just hoping all the pieces fall into place more easily than not for us. But I’ll take a cue from my friend (and boss) who is always amazingly upbeat and positive… it’s an attitude I know I’ll need.

Spring at Lewis Ginter

For several years now, I’ve enjoyed visiting the Lewis Ginter Botanical Garden in Richmond, Virginia. Each April is the most awesome time to visit, with spring weather and their luxurious blooming of tulips.

Today was the perfect day; the sun was warm and strong, but the heat wasn’t too bad, with temperatures topping out at around 82 degrees. The flowers were in good form, and it was great to see some improvements around LGBG too, like a new bridge, a new walkway, and the new glass ornaments.

Of course my favorite part is the color. This year was no less disappointing. I liked breathing in the fragrant air (with the help of Zyrtec) and the time for reflection.

I really think this garden is one of the brightest gems in the Richmond, VA area. Check out other photos from the garden on Flickr by a variety of photographers.

Roman Sonatas

The re-invented Musica Antiqua Köln has released an album entitled Roma, featuring Italian works by Lonati, Mannelli, Lulier, Ravenscroft, Bonporti, et al. The new ensemble is called Alte Musik Köln. The sound quality, first, is excellent. Live, for sure, but each instrument is carefully and beautifully rendered.

I lack liner notes to say anything much about the music. It’s all of a pretty high quality, despite being obscure. The Caldara sonata in D minor features the cello, and presents enough virtuosity between the bass instrument and the two violinists. Energy abounds in this work like many others presented here. Slow movements can be sparse in terms of drama, but the fast movements allow these technical musicians to show off their abilities.

La Panuzzi’s second track is plenty showy, simply marked “3/4 time.” The ultimate track, 6/8, offers a counterpoint exercise in a light canon. The work is emblematic of many of the works on this recording: it glimmers in spots (3/4) but in others, simply plods along (6/8).

The final work on disc is a concerto da camera by Giovanni Lorenzo Lulier, which follows a Corellian-style format, but with a lighter, almost galante air. It gives far more gas to the bass line here with cello lines that emerge. You might think this work is a lightweight extra, but listen carefully, and little gems present themselves in the busy passagework.

What’s missing from the recording? I’m happy to hear that Goebel’s later creep of vibrato into his style is missing here from these violinists. But what they may have borrowed from Goebel is his verve and energy.

In all, this recording presents a nice variety of largely unknown, some quirky, and many energetic works that are nice additions to the canon. What’s most expressive is the sheer virtuosity captured in this one recording. I hope it’s a sign of more to come.