READING – OCTOBER 2008

16616. (Mar­i­on Zim­mer Bradley) The Mists of Aval­on
16617. (O. R. Gurny, tr.) Hit­tite doc­u­ment: The Annals of Ḫat­tušili III
16618. (Steve Muhlberg­er) [in blog Muhlberger’s Ear­ly His­to­ry] The World Turned Inside
. . . . . Out [arti­cle]
16619. (Karen Joy Fowler) Wit’s End
16620. (Chris Wood) Dry Spring: The Com­ing Water Cri­sis in North Amer­i­ca
16621. (David Rothkopf) 9/11 Was Big. This Is Big­ger [arti­cle]
16622. (Andrew J. Bace­vich) He Told Us to Go Shop­ping. Now the Bill Is Due. [arti­cle]
16623. (Richard Dawkins) The God Delu­sion
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Elgar, Mozart and Tchaikovsky at Grace Church On-the-hill

Cir­cum­stances have pre­vented me from attend­ing many live con­certs, recent­ly, so I jumped at the chance when Isaac White and his par­ents kind­ly invit­ed me to a con­cert at Grace Church On-the-hill, a hand­some Angli­can church built in 1912. I arrived ear­ly, so I spent an hour wan­der­ing around For­est Hill, in Suy­dam Park, Rel­mar Gar­dens, and the Cedar­vale ravine before meet­ing Isaac at the Sec­ond Cup. For­est Hill is like a small town embe­ded in the city, with its own lit­tle “main street” and a thick canopy of maples. In the crisp autumn air, the vil­lage seems like a Ray Brad­bury sto­ry re-writ­ten by Mar­garet Atwood. Among the stacks of pump­kins and the drift­ing red and gold fall­en leaves, the Angli­can, Unit­ed Church and Jew­ish ver­sions of Toron­to Respectabil­ity com­pete. No place could seem far­ther from the woes of the world. The local book store has a strange­ly mor­bid dis­play of high­ly lit­er­ary titles in its win­dow, with each title accom­pa­nied by a card explain­ing how the author died (did you know that Roland Barthes was run over by a laun­dry truck?). There are very com­fort­able pub­lic bench­es on the side­walks, a rar­ity in the rest of pen­ny-pinch­ing Toron­to. In the ravine, I saw a dog chas­ing a cat chas­ing a squir­rel chas­ing a leaf. Read more »

Monday, October 27, 2008 — Sense and Nonsense About “Socialism”

The word “social­ism” is used to mean vir­tu­al­ly any­thing imag­in­able, but if it means any­thing at all intel­li­gi­ble, it is “con­trol of pro­duc­tive enter­prise by the state”. More exact­ly, it means that the peo­ple who con­trol pro­duc­tion and the peo­ple who con­trol the state are the same peo­ple. Most states in human his­to­ry have been pre­dom­i­nant­ly social­ist. In most pre-mod­ern soci­eties, the state had direct con­trol of pro­duc­tion. Peas­ants worked land owned by an aris­toc­ra­cy, and that aris­toc­ra­cy con­sti­tut­ed state pow­er. Indus­tries were owned by the king or rel­a­tives of the king, by barons, by the Church, or by cor­po­rate bod­ies, all of which exer­cised the author­i­ty of the state. Read more »

The Mannheim School

The palace of the Elector of the Palatinate at Mannheim, where its resident orchestra was the heart of the "Mannheim School".

The palace of the Elec­tor of the Palati­nate at Mannheim, where its res­i­dent orches­tra was the heart of the “Mannheim School”.

Haydn and Mozart did not trans­form baroque music in a vac­uum. Change was in the air, and a num­ber of minor com­posers con­tributed to it. Among them were the men clus­tered in the court of the Elec­tor Carl Philipp, at Mannheim. The best musi­cians from across north­ern Europe were drawn there in the mid 1700’s. Com­posers of the Mannheim school intro­duced a num­ber of nov­el ideas into orches­tral music, such as a more inde­pen­dent role for wind instru­ments, adding the new­ly invent­ed clar­inet, and much more vari­able dynam­ics (the orches­tral crescen­do is a Mannheim inven­tion). Haydn picked up on these tech­niques. As a mat­ter of fact, his famous “Paris” sym­phonies were com­mis­sioned for the Mannheim orches­tra. I’m lis­ten­ing to a rep­re­sen­ta­tive selec­tion of Mannheim orches­tral music by the Cam­er­ata Bern, under the direc­tion of Thomas Füri: Die Mannheimer Schule, a 1980 box set from Archiv. It includes Franz Xaver Richter’s Sin­fo­nia in B‑flat, and his Con­certo for Flute and Orches­tra in E minor; Johann Stamitz’s Vio­lin Con­certo in C, and Orches­tral Trio in B‑flat, Op.1; Anton Filtz’s Vio­lin Con­certo in G; Ignaz Holzbauer’s Sin­fo­nia Con­cer­tante in Aand Sin­fo­nia in E‑flat, Op.4; Chris­t­ian Cannabich’s Sin­fo­nia Con­cer­tante in Cand Sin­fo­nia in B‑flat; and Lud­wig August LeBrun’s Oboe Con­certo in D minor. Johann Stamitz, the effec­tive founder of the school, stands out as the most imme­di­ately enjoy­able in this set. His superb vio­lin con­certo mer­its com­par­ison with Mozart’s. It’s loaded with vir­tu­os­ity, sim­plic­ity, free­dom and feel­ing, char­ac­ter­is­tics we asso­ciate with the next age. Tedious bas­so con­tinuo and for­mal orna­ment are nowhere to be heard in it. I was also charmed by Cannabich and LeBrun’s warm oboe con­certo. Oth­er Mannheim com­posers of note, not rep­re­sented in this set, were Franz Ignaz Beck, and Johann’s son Carl Stamitz.

16710. (August Derleth) Return to Walden West

August Derleth

August Der­leth

This is a minor mas­ter­piece by a neglect­ed Amer­i­can nov­el­ist and essay­ist who is bet­ter known as the edi­tor and advo­cate of H. P. Love­craft than for his own work. It is firm­ly in the tra­di­tion of Thoreau’s jour­nals, and simul­ta­ne­ously in that of Sher­wood Anderson’s Wines­burg Ohio, though his beau­ti­fully styled evo­ca­tions of des­per­ate lives don’t have the bit­ter­ness that Anderson’s had. Derleth’s feel­ing for nature, both the human kind and the ani­mals and plant kind, is intense and metic­u­lously obser­vant. His prose is so pre­cise and nat­ural that you don’t hear it as another’s voice, but as your own thought. It’s one of those books that you read with pro­found plea­sure on a qui­et night, with an ani­mal snooz­ing near­by and a sin­gle malt at your elbow.

Gabe Desrosiers’s round dance songs for jingle dress

The Jin­gle Dress dance is a wom­en’s round dance which the Anish­naabe (Ojib­way) of north-west­ern Ontario take spe­cial pride in. “Jin­gle Dress” is the com­mon term on the pow-wow cir­cuit, but folks in the Keno­ra-Rainy Riv­er region of Ontario usu­al­ly call it “med­i­cine dress”. Gabe Desrosiers has com­posed numer­ous songs in hon­our of the Jin­gle Dress and the women who wear it. The songs are deeply root­ed in north­west Ontario and Min­neso­ta tra­di­tion, but these are mod­ern songs. Desrosiers is accom­pa­nied by a sol­id team of drum­mers and singers from the White­fish Bay and North West Angle #33 reserves, known as the North­ern Wind. The Anish­naabe drum­ming style is char­ac­ter­ized by sud­den vol­ume changes and caesura. Expect impromp­tu shouts, hoots and excla­ma­tions to be thrown in at psy­cho­log­i­cal­ly apt moments, giv­ing these dances sort of hot jazz sen­si­bil­i­ty. I don’t have the group’s award win­ning album Whis­per­ing Winds, but I can rec­om­mend my new­ly acquired Med­i­cine Dress, which can be got­ten from Arbor Records in Win­nipeg. Read more »

Tuesday, October 14, 2008 — The Notorious Overhead Projector

Ever won­der about that “three mil­lion dol­lar ear­mark for an over­head pro­jec­tor” that is such an impor­tant talk­ing point in John McCain’s elec­tion cam­paign? Accord­ing to an arti­cle in this week’s Sci­ence News, it turns out that the “over­head pro­jec­tor” is the Zeis star pro­jec­tor in the ven­er­a­ble Adler Plan­e­tar­i­um in Chica­go. Like the oth­er two major Amer­i­can plan­e­tar­i­ums in New York and Los Ange­les, the Adler must replace its fifty-year old instru­ment, which the orig­i­nal Ger­man man­u­fac­tur­er will no longer ser­vice. As with the oth­er two, the request for fed­er­al fund­ing is rou­tine, and no politi­cian would dream of vot­ing against it. The three plan­e­tar­i­ums teach the fun­da­men­tals of astron­o­my to mil­lions of urban school chil­dren who have nev­er seen a clear night star-filled sky, and are basic ameni­ties of major cities. The cost of a few mil­lion dol­lars amor­tized over half a cen­tu­ry is triv­ial. No politi­cian in any of the three states involved would have vot­ed oth­er­wise. Could any­thing bet­ter demon­strate the dis­hon­esty and the mind-bog­gling igno­rance of the McCain campaign?

16632. (Nancy M. Wingfield) Flag Wars and Stone Saints: How the Bohemian Lands Became Czech

Eth­nic nation­al­ism is one of the most dis­eased and obnox­ious ideas con­trived by human beings, rivaled only by Marx­ism and reli­gious fanati­cism in its poten­tial for cre­at­ing human suf­fer­ing. The stage was set for the hor­rors of the twen­ti­eth cen­tu­ry by the pas­sion­ate eth­nic hatreds of the 19th cen­tu­ry. It was in this era that col­lec­tive loy­al­ties among Euro­peans shift­ed from obses­sions with God to obses­sions with Race and Nation. And it was in this era that most of the “nation­al iden­ti­ties”, which now seem so fixed, were con­coct­ed.
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(Davidson / Palin 2004) Himalaya With Michael Palin [six episodes]

08-10-06 VIEW (Davidson - Palin 2004) Himalaya With Michael Palin [six episodes]I want to kill Michael Palin — pure­ly out of envy. He gets to trav­el every­where, see the coolest things, and talk to fas­ci­nat­ing peo­ple, and makes a for­tune doing it. Palin was recent­ly ranked num­ber nine in the list of the world’s top ten trav­el­ers of all time by Wan­der­lust Mag­a­zine. It’s been claimed that trav­el agen­cies antic­i­pate sharp spikes in book­ings for any des­ti­na­tion that he vis­its, after an episode of one of his doc­u­men­taries. Himalaya is his best doc­u­men­tary series to date. This one takes him to the North­west Fron­tier states of Pak­istan, to Amrit­sar in the Pun­jab, to Sim­la, to Kash­mir and Ladakh, through Nepal into Tibet, and from thence east­ward to Yun­nan in Chi­na, back through Naga­land and Assam, into Bhutan, and final­ly to the shores of the Bay of Ben­gal. In this spec­tac­u­lar jour­ney, he meets and talks to a vari­ety of peo­ple: an enter­pris­ing den­tist in Peshawar; the Dalai Lama; Namu, a pop singer from the matrilo­cal Mosuo peo­ple of Yun­nan; a South­ern Bap­tist head­hunter in Naga­land; danc­ing monks in Assam. Pal­in’s easy­go­ing affa­bil­i­ty gives every­one he talks to dig­ni­ty, which I think is the secret of his suc­cess. You always get more than just scenery and plat­i­tudes. The series tip­toes around pol­i­tics, but its focus on indi­vid­ual lives and per­son­al­i­ties makes it an impres­sive doc­u­ment. For exam­ple, his vis­it to the Sikh Gold­en Tem­ple does­n’t focus on the splen­dour of the build­ing, but on the vol­un­teers prepar­ing the cus­tom­ary meal, giv­en to any­one who comes to it.

Hossein Alizadeh and Djivan Gasparyan’s Endless Vision

https _i.pinimg.com_736x_f6_d9_ab_f6d9ab4488a3f255b86bc7c2a64f39d5--armenia-musicians

Dji­van Gasparyan

http _www.bozar.be_image_17273_og_hossein-alizadeh-alireza-ghorbani-ensemble-zarbang

Hos­sein Alizadeh

This quite beau­ti­ful album of slow-paced, deeply roman­tic music com­bines the vir­tu­os­i­ty of Dji­van Gas­paryan, the ven­er­a­ble mas­ter of the Armen­ian duduk, and Hos­sein Alizadeh, the super­star of the Per­siantar. The duduk is a nine-holed oboe made of apri­cot wood, some­what resem­bling the medieval Euro­pean shawm, and Gas­paryan is its unri­valed mas­ter. Alizadeh is the younger dynamo of the Per­sian lute. How­ev­er, for this amaz­ing per­for­mance record­ed in Tehran in Sep­tem­ber of 2003, Alizadeh employed a vari­ant form of the tar known as the shu­ran­giz. The con­cert alter­nat­ed Armen­ian and Per­sian songs, and includ­ed Alizadeh’s famil­iar orches­tra, and three vocal­ists — one female, some­thing con­sid­ered a bit dar­ing in con­tem­po­rary, mul­lah-infest­ed Iran. Iran and the Unit­ed States share a com­mon afflic­tion: both are nations with a deep and mul­ti­fac­eted musi­cal her­itage, and an innate vital­i­ty of pop­u­lar cul­ture, which have the mis­for­tune of being ruled by wicked, igno­rant, stu­pid old men, and tor­ment­ed by moron­ic reli­gious zealots. Yet the under­ly­ing vital­i­ty and beau­ty always seems to sur­vive. Relax with a book of verse, a cup of wine, and any agree­able thou at your dis­pos­al, and put on this album.