Dear Faithful Readers,
It's confession time. Some of you already know that I'm a vain fool with a weakness for folk music but I'm finally going to admit it to the world: I want to be a rock star!
Having recently been introduced to Pandora by J-the-amazing-and-technologically-cognizant, I've been listening to a lot of Chris Thile and have developed a huge crush on him. Here's the letter to him I've been composing in my brain:
Dear Chris,
You're fucking awesome. I don't know if you're aware of the existence and kick-ass-ness of the viola da gamba but if you're ever curious, I'm your girl! I want to tour the world with you; just think: Mandolin and Viol! It's a niche and no one's there yet. Let's not miss our opportunity.
Love,
Zoe
But with no recent experience playing non-Classical music, I doubt he'd believe how truly brilliant I am. Sometimes even I have trouble believing how brilliant I am! So, I'm going to prove it. Tons of people do the singer-songwriter thing so it can't be that hard! If Joanna Newsom can do it on harp, I can do it on viol. Maybe after I release my first solo album he'll be willing to give me a chance!
Besides, what else is the summer for if not ridiculously grand and futile projects?
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Friday, May 23, 2008
In Others' Words
Lots of people post song lyrics on their blogs. Today, I offer you translations of two 17th-century Italian song lyrics from a lovely recital I played in last night.
They spoke to a nostalgia and infusion of memories that I've been feeling lately.
Lagrimosa Beltà
Tearful beauty
for whom I longed for so many nights with sighing,
how have you so become?
Who was that savage?
Whose heart, full of contempt,
could have proved harsh against you?
Misery, I know well, and you cannot deny it.
Time, the age of great worth,
has calmed the breast
has silvered the gold of thy beautiful hair.
Lady, see the end approaching,
see that everything is mortal and fades.
In time beauty becomes worthless,
it is the common blow that none may parry.
The rain comes after the calm
and after the lightening bolt, grim thunder;
who is cruel does not merit pardon,
to be faithless to love is a vile outrage.
To such a vision, Ladies, render up your hearts.
With piety and humility,
learn to leave that sumptuous pride and
soften thy thoughts.
Beauty displays its splendor not in such as she,
nor ever did.
Then let she who would have lasting beauty
avail herself of pity.
Amanti, io vi sò dire
Lovers, I can tell you
that it is much better to flee
from a pretty woman:
whether she is cruel or merciful,
whatever the situation,
to die for love is madness.
You need not think
of finding joy in love,
the happiness of love
is a thing of the moment,
and after all a beautiful woman
never bestows roses without thorns.
The hope of enjoyment is based on suffering,
beauty and courtesy
do not go hand in hand,
I can say, to my misfortune,
that love goes together with death.
It would take floods of tears to put out the volcanoes
of a heart in love,
of a soul that is inflamed . . .
Before it reaches shelter,
how often it says: Alas, I am dead!
Believe in one
who can say from experience: I saw, I was:
If you won't believe,
let it be,
it matters little to me,
carry on loving.
In any case,
those who must break their necks
will not escape steep slopes or deep falls.
As the wise proverb always says:
You cannot escape your destiny.
My lady, I know who you are,
Cupid, I know what I am doing,
I'll have nothing more to do with you,
keep your distance, both of you!
If everyone were like myself,
Cupid would be a fool, and not a god.
They spoke to a nostalgia and infusion of memories that I've been feeling lately.
Lagrimosa Beltà
Tearful beauty
for whom I longed for so many nights with sighing,
how have you so become?
Who was that savage?
Whose heart, full of contempt,
could have proved harsh against you?
Misery, I know well, and you cannot deny it.
Time, the age of great worth,
has calmed the breast
has silvered the gold of thy beautiful hair.
Lady, see the end approaching,
see that everything is mortal and fades.
In time beauty becomes worthless,
it is the common blow that none may parry.
The rain comes after the calm
and after the lightening bolt, grim thunder;
who is cruel does not merit pardon,
to be faithless to love is a vile outrage.
To such a vision, Ladies, render up your hearts.
With piety and humility,
learn to leave that sumptuous pride and
soften thy thoughts.
Beauty displays its splendor not in such as she,
nor ever did.
Then let she who would have lasting beauty
avail herself of pity.
Amanti, io vi sò dire
Lovers, I can tell you
that it is much better to flee
from a pretty woman:
whether she is cruel or merciful,
whatever the situation,
to die for love is madness.
You need not think
of finding joy in love,
the happiness of love
is a thing of the moment,
and after all a beautiful woman
never bestows roses without thorns.
The hope of enjoyment is based on suffering,
beauty and courtesy
do not go hand in hand,
I can say, to my misfortune,
that love goes together with death.
It would take floods of tears to put out the volcanoes
of a heart in love,
of a soul that is inflamed . . .
Before it reaches shelter,
how often it says: Alas, I am dead!
Believe in one
who can say from experience: I saw, I was:
If you won't believe,
let it be,
it matters little to me,
carry on loving.
In any case,
those who must break their necks
will not escape steep slopes or deep falls.
As the wise proverb always says:
You cannot escape your destiny.
My lady, I know who you are,
Cupid, I know what I am doing,
I'll have nothing more to do with you,
keep your distance, both of you!
If everyone were like myself,
Cupid would be a fool, and not a god.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Reflections on a year in Boston
My roommate requests that I update this now that the recital is over and so I will do it just for her!
The only news of interest is the recital so I'll start there. It went well. Actually, that's an understatement, it went really well. Better than I had hoped. Sure there were mistakes (lots of them, some more serious than others) but they didn't ruin anything and the parts I didn't mess up are really spectacular. Val told me (with tears in her eyes because she had a bad cough!) that I was in a completely different place than I had been a year ago when last she heard me play. Listening to the recording, I hear she's right. I don't know what it is but I sound like a professional who makes a bunch of mistakes instead of a student who plays very well. A strange distinction but accurate. I seem to have developed a poise and confidence in my playing that I've never had before. I don't know how, maybe it was meeting all these people who think I'm a great musician. I think I'm starting to believe them! I know I didn't work as hard as I could have this year. I didn't practice as much as I wanted to. But I played a lot. And I performed a lot. I think I finally got some of the "experience" I was so sorely lacking in Oberlin. I may not like living outside of the Oberlin bubble but it's been good for me musically.
So now the summer officially begins for me. As usual I have lots of ambitious plans I will not get around to or end up finishing but I like having them nonetheless. Proof of my greed for life, a testament to a vision of who I try to be. I have accepted that I want too much, I cannot live all the lives I desire, accomplish all the things I wish I could. So wanting them all will have to be enough and I'll do what I can.
What are your goals/hopes for the summer?
I want to learn a lot of new music. I want to cook new and interesting recipes. I want to play lots of frisbee. I want to read a lot of books. I want to figure out what I'm going to do after I graduate from BU (hopefully get a Fulbright to Europe to study with someone amazing). I want to plan interesting concert programs for next year and get some workshop/teaching gigs. And most importantly, I want to have fun with people I love!
The only news of interest is the recital so I'll start there. It went well. Actually, that's an understatement, it went really well. Better than I had hoped. Sure there were mistakes (lots of them, some more serious than others) but they didn't ruin anything and the parts I didn't mess up are really spectacular. Val told me (with tears in her eyes because she had a bad cough!) that I was in a completely different place than I had been a year ago when last she heard me play. Listening to the recording, I hear she's right. I don't know what it is but I sound like a professional who makes a bunch of mistakes instead of a student who plays very well. A strange distinction but accurate. I seem to have developed a poise and confidence in my playing that I've never had before. I don't know how, maybe it was meeting all these people who think I'm a great musician. I think I'm starting to believe them! I know I didn't work as hard as I could have this year. I didn't practice as much as I wanted to. But I played a lot. And I performed a lot. I think I finally got some of the "experience" I was so sorely lacking in Oberlin. I may not like living outside of the Oberlin bubble but it's been good for me musically.
So now the summer officially begins for me. As usual I have lots of ambitious plans I will not get around to or end up finishing but I like having them nonetheless. Proof of my greed for life, a testament to a vision of who I try to be. I have accepted that I want too much, I cannot live all the lives I desire, accomplish all the things I wish I could. So wanting them all will have to be enough and I'll do what I can.
What are your goals/hopes for the summer?
I want to learn a lot of new music. I want to cook new and interesting recipes. I want to play lots of frisbee. I want to read a lot of books. I want to figure out what I'm going to do after I graduate from BU (hopefully get a Fulbright to Europe to study with someone amazing). I want to plan interesting concert programs for next year and get some workshop/teaching gigs. And most importantly, I want to have fun with people I love!
Saturday, May 3, 2008
Absence makes for bad blogging
I haven't posted in a while and I probable won't again for another while (so many whiles, or was it wiles?). My recital is on May 16th and until then I'll be practicing and trying not to stress out too much. For the meantime, you'll have to amuse yourselves without me.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Marais
I've been unproductive recently. This happens to me with alarming regularity, for a few days I just won't be able to do anything useful that's not scheduled. This used to be less of a problem back when everything in my life was scheduled and had due dates. Now that I'm supposed to be self-motivated and ambitious, losing days to my meandering motivation is keeping me from doing everything I want to.
So instead of letting today slip away, I went out into the world and got something done. Perhaps not the most pressing or important of things, but it was something. I sat in Espresso Royale for two hours nursing a cup of coffee (that doubled as lunch) and finishing cutting and pasting and writing out the parts for my Marais suite. Then ran back to CFA to scan my fragile constructions and then to the library to wait in line forever so that I could print them out for free. Tomorrow I will put them in envelopes and leave them for my collaborators and that task will be finished. Of course, being able to play said pieces would also be useful, but I have a couple weeks left for that!
I love this weather, if only it would stay like this and never get too hot! The smells of all the flowers opening and the variety of birdsong makes me yearn for picnics and jumping in lakes and bike rides and farmer's markets and rhubarb pies! It also makes me lonely. When did we grow up and get too busy for these things? How did we get tied down, stuck in our ways, confined to our own stereotypes of ourselves?
So instead of letting today slip away, I went out into the world and got something done. Perhaps not the most pressing or important of things, but it was something. I sat in Espresso Royale for two hours nursing a cup of coffee (that doubled as lunch) and finishing cutting and pasting and writing out the parts for my Marais suite. Then ran back to CFA to scan my fragile constructions and then to the library to wait in line forever so that I could print them out for free. Tomorrow I will put them in envelopes and leave them for my collaborators and that task will be finished. Of course, being able to play said pieces would also be useful, but I have a couple weeks left for that!
I love this weather, if only it would stay like this and never get too hot! The smells of all the flowers opening and the variety of birdsong makes me yearn for picnics and jumping in lakes and bike rides and farmer's markets and rhubarb pies! It also makes me lonely. When did we grow up and get too busy for these things? How did we get tied down, stuck in our ways, confined to our own stereotypes of ourselves?
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Having Style
I've been experimenting with this bizarre concept this year. Don't worry! I'm still the same old barbarian Zoe you've always known, but now with the added superpower of being able to look nice when I choose to. The other day when it was just on the cusp of being warm enough to wear a dress, I wore one with leggings under it. Yes, those silly things that end mid-calf that some college-students seem to mistake for pants. And lo, I kind of liked how I looked! Last month, shopping with Val in Chicago, I bought a pair of pointy-toed boots! Today, for a performance, I've got burgundy stockings with subtle flowers on them under a simple black dress with a little cleavage and a couple beads. I almost feel elegant (however, I plan to ruin the whole effect by wearing silly shoes!). Both my dead grandmothers would be pleased. They always wanted a granddaughter who looked cute and beautiful but never got one since my sister and I were too willful to be either of those things. I do not intend to become less willful or more superficial, and I am not willing to give up too much of my time to drying my hair or sifting through clothing. However, being able to look nice is a good addition to my repertoire of impersonations!
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Time
Albert Einstein once said: When you are courting a nice girl an hour seems like a second. When you sit on a red-hot cinder a second seems like an hour. That's relativity.
He's right. True relativity happens in the brain. Here we are in Spring again. It seems like just a few weeks ago I moved to Boston but it's almost been a year. Today also happens to be the year-and-a-half anniversary. That seems as if were ages ago and yet, talking about it the other night with L, I went back there in my memory and it could have been last week. Strange.
In the end, time may be just another trick of memory, that irascible beast.
I went to bed with a headache, I woke up with it this morning, now coffee and tylenol are hard at work combating it.
I replied to an e-mail is Spanish dredged up from what's left of high school in my brain to a five-year-old in Buenos Aires who has the same name as me.
The sun and the crisp air transport me back to Oberlin, those first few warm days when we'd walk in the Arb, write our chorales for theory sitting by the pond, skip practicing in order to eat ice-cream or read in Tappan square.
When it gets even warmer, I'm sure I'll remember that last summer, when every day was better than any she remembered, when the colors were brighter, the tastes more sumptuous, love more deeply felt than ever before. We cried then, said the things you think but never say, asked the questions you don't dare to ask, smiled at each other because we could, because we had secrets, because we were in love.
He's right. True relativity happens in the brain. Here we are in Spring again. It seems like just a few weeks ago I moved to Boston but it's almost been a year. Today also happens to be the year-and-a-half anniversary. That seems as if were ages ago and yet, talking about it the other night with L, I went back there in my memory and it could have been last week. Strange.
In the end, time may be just another trick of memory, that irascible beast.
I went to bed with a headache, I woke up with it this morning, now coffee and tylenol are hard at work combating it.
I replied to an e-mail is Spanish dredged up from what's left of high school in my brain to a five-year-old in Buenos Aires who has the same name as me.
The sun and the crisp air transport me back to Oberlin, those first few warm days when we'd walk in the Arb, write our chorales for theory sitting by the pond, skip practicing in order to eat ice-cream or read in Tappan square.
When it gets even warmer, I'm sure I'll remember that last summer, when every day was better than any she remembered, when the colors were brighter, the tastes more sumptuous, love more deeply felt than ever before. We cried then, said the things you think but never say, asked the questions you don't dare to ask, smiled at each other because we could, because we had secrets, because we were in love.
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