sculpture
Wordless Wednesday: Pacifica
Portland
I am reporting on Portland after Astoria, even though we visted and played a day earlier. That’s just how things sometimes work.
We did have some time to spend in the Rose City before our show at Rotture:
We experienced Portland’s famously variable weather. Fortunately, many of the city’s attractions are indoors. This includes Powell’s Books. I could have spent the whole day in the Pearl Room, which contained the art and architecture offerings, as well as their extensive rare book collection.
Portland also has abundant public art. Across from Powell’s is this “brush,” a noted landmark:
And this “recursive elephant” was quite intriguing:
This sculpture includes other animals besides the elephants. I think I see a cat on the trunk:
It always comes back to cats, doesn’t it.
The show that evening was at Rotture, a club on the waterfront, conveniently located next to a construction zone. Although our audience was small, the show went well; and I did like the space, a converted early-20th century industrial brick building.
They also had an interesting mural in the main audience area, and a nice large stage. We shared the bill with Emily Hay, who also does improvisation with flute and voice (although with a very contrasting sound and style from Polly); as well as Tim DuRoche and Resolution 51 (free jazz improvisation). So it was definitely worth sticking around after our performance to hear everyone else – although the entire evening was probably branded as “experimental night” or “improvisation night”, there was a great variety among the three groups, and I think the ordering worked well with us first, both musically and energy-wise.
More on Portland, our show at Rotture, and the trip up from the Bay Area can be found here.
Wine country
Sitting outside this fine summer evening with a glass of wine reminds me that I haven't written about my trip to the wine country from Memorial Day weekend.
The “wine country” to which I am referring is the Napa Valley, north of San Francisco. (This is not to be confused with the Santa Barbara wine country in Sideways). The heart of the wine country is corridor along highway 29 north of the town of Napa:
I'm not sure why I thought that weekend would be a good time to go. Highway 29 was a parking lot the entire way from its start in Vallejo through at least the town of St. Helena. It is a pretty undersized highway for such a heavy tourist destination, but one can understand why they may not want to expand it too much. It is, however, an expressway and freeway in area in and around the town of Napa (within the city limits, it was a full-on freeway). The reason this photo taken just south of Napa is so clear is because I wasn't moving.
It seems like they should consider upgrading the remainder to a freeway at least through Yountville, which is considered the start of the main wine country. At this point, 29 becomes a two-lane road amongst vinyards, eventually meeting up with highway 128 around St. Helena, which pretty much lives entirely off the wine and wine-tourism industry. 29 and 128 continue north through some of the most upscale vinyards before splitting at the resort town of Calistoga.
One of the main wineries I visited was in fact just a bit south of Calistoga. Clos Pegase was of particular interest not because of the wine per se (though the wine was quite good), but the owner's extensive art collection, mostly 20th century works. Among them are this monumental mobile by George Rickey:
George Rickey's work was familiar, having seen at least one other example at the New Orleans Museum of Art scupture garden during my trip last year.
This linear-geometric piece by Tony Smith really works with the rows of grape vines:
I often try to find just the perfect perspective when confronted with such strong lines. You can see another example (one of my favorite among my “art photos”) from the Getty Center in Los Angeles, one of several on my photography page (which I really need to update one of these days).
Another interesting geomtric metal piece, this one by Joel Shapiro:
Of course, the collection is not just abstract work. There were several figurative pieces as well, including this sculpture by Henry Moore, which appeared to have gotten the “John Ashcroft Treatment”:
Of course, they had wine, too. Of particular note was the cabernet franc. Most American winedrinkers will be familiar with cabernet sauvignon, which are often my favorite wines. “Cab franc” is another grape that is often used in blends, but Clos Pegase's solo version was a great discovery.
The town of Calistoga is perhapsa better known for water than for wine. Calistoga gives its name to brand of mineral water popular here at CatSynth (though they were not offering tours despite the “come visit us sometime” suggestion on the label). It is also known for its many hot springs and spas. But beer? Well, it did try a very distinctive beer from the Russian River (in neighboring Sonoma County), with a rather sweet taste. Ironically, this was at wine bar that I stopped into while spending time until a spa appointment. This particular bar called out to me with its metalic modernist trendy urban look and vibe, compared to the general rustic charm of Calistoga – there is a definite “look” that most resort towns in northern California have that looks like a hybrid of Gold Rush and New Age. Nonetheless, I think I picked the right alternative for myself, and also enjoyed this little pasta-and-goat-cheese nibble.
I definitely recommend a wine-country trip for anyone in the extended Bay Area, though maybe not on the busiest travel weekend of the year. Maybe not a good trip for those who dislike wine, art and spa treatments. We at CatSynth refer to such people as “strange and weird.”
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Dorian Grey's Box: Art Installation at Pajaro Valley Arts Council
My sound art installation described in previous posts is now on display at the Pajaro Valley Arts Council as part of the current exhibition “The Human Condition: The Artists’ Response.” The exhibition is “an artistic articulation of the connection between
the individual and world challenges, the exhibit
brings together artists responding to political and social tensions in today?s world”, and features 22 artists (according to my best count). The pieces in the exhibi are all of great quality when compared to recent gallery exhibits I have visited. Many are overtly political or social, dealing with many of darker subjects in current events and recent history. Some are quite realistic, others more abstract.
Dorian Grey’s Box, the piece on which I collaborated with local artist Michael Carson, is one of the more abstract in the exhibition. The main element is a large black cube with newspaper clippings in various patterns and sections of redder coloring. Surrounding the main cube are several small wooden “alphabet blocks”, some of which have also been painted black.
The sound (my contribution to the piece) is on a continuous loop that visitors can hear via headphones. The material is primarily ambient noise, gitches, percussive effects and sounds that only “hint” at speaking voices, arranged in a collage inspired by the sculptural part of the piece.
]The exhibition continues through March 4, and I strongly encourage anyone in the greater Bay Area during this time to check it out. It’s great to see such quality contemporary art locally (Santa Cruz-Watsonville-Monterey area).
I have posted an excerpt from the sound installation on the podcast for those who are interested in the piece but unable to visit in person.
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Weekend Cat Blogging #79: from the archives
For this weekend, we go back to the archives for this artistic sepia-toned closup of Luna:
The poster behind Luna is of a stabile by Alexander Calder, among my favorite artists. Calder is famous not only for his monumental abstract stabile sculptures, but also his abstract mobiles – his mobiles were influenced in part by the paintings of Mondrian, another of my favorite artists.
I think Luna's profile and sculpture complement one another quite nicely.
Check out more WCB fun over at belly timber Angry Cat Blog. I figure it's best not to ask…
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Weekend in New Orleans Part 2: City views and Scultpure Garden
My second excursion focused on walking, art and photography. I began by heading downtown from the hotel along St. Charles Avenue, following the inactive streetcar route. The hotel clerk later advised me that this may not have been the wisest action because of some rather sketchy blocks along the way. Personally, I don't think there was much of issue during the day – a lot of times such concerns are exaggerated. In addition to the “stately mansions” of the Garden district and the occasional boarded-up business, the walk along St Charles affording an opportunity to sample some of the local politics. Something called “Amendment 7”, which I gather has something to do with assessors, seems to be a big deal in this neighborhood. And of course, there are reminders that depite some of New Orlean's reputation, we are still deep in the south and “red America”:
Apparently “fundamental values” don't include keeping the streets free of litter. These flyers were scattered all over the sidewalk, and probably made a nice paste in the rains on Monday.
St. Charles passes under Highway 90 and empties out onto Robert E. Lee square. I'm guessing this was a significant central point in the past, but it seems to be a rather seedy area on the edge of downtown. I kinda like the irony of that. One notable landmark is the Circle Bar, which I hope to visit before the end of the trip. Moving west, one enters the “arts-warehouse” district that attempts to be the downtown of art galleries and clubs one finds in other cities. Not a lot seemed to open early on Sunday, it is good to see alternatives to tourist center of French Quarter getting built up. Here we see a Cat Noir, a cabaret-style club compete with one of my favorite of the old Toulouse Lautrec posters.
I did finally locate not only a source for the transit day-passes, but also a working streetcar on Canal Street. Here zip and I catch a ride:
Actually, these are the historic cars from the non-functional St. Charles line, but moved over to the new Canal Street line because its cars were flooded.
Heading up Canal street, more of the damaged and closed businesses can be seen. On one block will be luxury hotels or appartments, on the next a boarded up department store or theatre:
As the streetcar continues north past the I-10 overpass, more severe physical and social damange becomes apparent, with shuttered businesses and entire blocks empty or in ruins:
Click on the lower photos to view them in more detail. Notable on the lower right are the ubiquitous spray-paint symbols indicating that the house was checked after the storm, and the first roaming kitty cat of the trip.
Our ultimate destination was the city park, home to the New Orleans Museum of Art (NOMA) and the city sculpture garden. The city park is close to Lake Pontchartrain and the Lakeview neighborhood, and suffered extensive damage, from which it is still recovering. However, the museum weathered the storm with little damage, and reopened in February.
One scultpure in the garden was topped during the hurricane, is is currently being repaired by the artist. Otherwise, it faired well and reopened last December. They have an impressive collection of modernist and contemporary figurative works. I have included a few of my photos here. (A few of the best photos from the garden and the trip in general will be included in my photography section when I get a chance to update it). Again, you can click on any of the photos below for a more detailed view:
I think the wedding photo session on the bridge adds a nice contrast to the tower of violins in the lower right.
In addition to finding good art within the city, I also sought and found good music outside the main tourist destinates. My brief experiences with music and nightlife will be explored in part 3…
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Weekend Cat Blogging #67
Luna blends in perfectly with her dad's decor while getting warm on a table above our main heater. The temperature this morning was 49F (10C)! That is a travesty in September, usually the hottest month of the year along the California coast. It's not helping my recovery from whatever ailment has befallen me this week, either.
Anyhow, being stuck home gives me plenty of time to host Weekend Cat Blogging #67, taking over from last week's host, chefsarahjane. Assuming I'm feeling better over the weekend and things warm up a bit, I'll be spending as much time as I can outside – but that shouldn't stop me from posting updates.
So send us your feline articles and photos; either leave a comment on this post, or send me a message. Bonus points if you can fit into the cats-with-music-and-art theme of this forum.
Weekend Cat Blogging
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Professors, Monks, Imbalance, Pattern, Harmony and Noise
A fun, far-reaching flight of fancy for this evening's post.
I opted to enjoy a quiet day off in my yard rather than fight the inevitably nasty Santa-Cruz-area traffic. It's actually been quite productive, a lot of cleaning in the garden as well as some much needed maintenance work on the outdoor sculptures. In particular, rust management on the metalworks, and cleaning off the accumulated grime from my own fountain sculpture entitled Imbalance. I don't use a lot of chemical treatments in the water because a lot of local critters wander through and drink from the surface, notably neighborhood cats and the hummingbird that is flittering about the fountain as I write this – or rather, was around the fountain until I pulled out the camera. Anyhow, here is a post-cleaning photo (I do need to figure out something to hide that electrical cord):
In keeping with the work's title, the various columns have shifted and tilted in relation to the ground below and the weight of the stone elements.
After a mid-afternoon's hard work, I settled down to relax, enjoy a refreshing beverage and read for a bit. I am currently reading Metamagical Themas: Questing for the Essence of Mind and Pattern by Douglas Hofstadter, who is best known for his earlier book Gödel, Escher, Bach. It's actually not as heavy as the name implies. It's a series of pieces Hofstadter did for Scientific American in the early 80s, covering a wide variety of issues including patterns, creativity, language, etc. The two articles a read this afternoon dealt with the pattern and aesthetics of the music of Chopin, and transformations on simple “parquet floor” patterns as a form of visual music, respectively. While the latter was more interesting to me personally, it is the former that I wish to write about. While I admire the musicality and technical skill of Chopin as both a composer and pianist, I can't say that I've ever been a “fan.” Indeed, his music is about 180 degrees from my own aesthetically. However, I was struck in particular by one passage Hofstadter wrote:
That there are semantic patterns in music is as undeniable as that there are courses in the theory of harmony. Yet harmony theory has no more succeeded in explaining such patterns than any set of rules has yet succeeded in capturing the essence of artistic crfeativity. To be sure, there are words to decribe well-formed patterns and progressions, but no theory yet invented has even come close to creating a semantic sieve so fine as to let all bad compositions fall through and to retain all good ones. Theories of musical quality are still descriptive and not generative; to some extent, they can explain in hindsight why a piece seems goodm, but they are not sufficient to allow someone to create new peices of quality and interest.
I was reminded of an article that I read last week entitled A Monk's Musical Musings: Musical Philosophy. The author, Huchbald, attempts to argue (with all the style and sophistication usually found in right-wing political bloggers) that everything right and good in music derives from the “god-given” harmonic series, and anything that eschews baroque-era diatonic voice leading rules is somehow not music at all. In the process, he dismisses atonal music (and probably a lot of other music) as “noise.”
There are numerous ways to refute his claims (other than simply celebrating noise as music), perhaps the simplest being the rather casual way he dismisses everything other than his voice-leading rules as “simply rules based on taste which can be left to the discresson [sic] of the composer.” Well, as Hofstadter eloquently points out, this discretion and not the rules is precisely what makes for the best music. It was what separates a genius like J.S. Bach (admired by both authors discussed here) from a typical student in a first-year class on music theory. The sieve is simply too coarse, and “accepts” both the good and bad equally. One need only consider what Bach was able to do contrapuntally with the chromatic theme of A Musical Offering to see how much more there is to even baroque music than basic harmony. There is something in Bach's music that can be described and informed by harmonic theory, but it doesn't tell nearly the whole story, nor explain how he can work with both harmonicity and chromaticism with such ease.
But back to the god-given harmonic series. Simply put, the harmonic series as a set of frequencies that are all integer multiples of the lowest, or fundamental frequency. That is, for fundamental f, the harmonic series is (1)f, 2f, 3f, 4f and so on. Starting on a really low C, i.e., the bottom C of a piano, one can approximate the corresponding harmonic series as follows:
Note the use of “approximate”, we'll get back to that in a moment. The harmonic series does indeed play an important role in acoustics, the timbre of musical instruments and are perception of musical harmonies. For those who would like play with the harmonic series, a good example can be found in the “additive_synthesis” tutorial of Open Sound World – in OSW, simply go to Help:Browse Tutorials, select the “audio” subfolder and open “additive_synthesis.osw”. You can increase or decrease the contribution of different harmonics and hear the effect on the timbre of a sound. The low harmonics (2,3,4, etc.) do indeed contribute to a constant timbre, though some of the higher harmonics start to get a little “squirrelly.” As one gets into harmonics that are not simple powers of two or multiples of three and a power of two (e.g., 6, 12, etc.), the harmonics appear to play less of a role, even when they can be approximated by notes in the western diatonic scale. Moreover, these are approximates that differ from the standard note degrees in western music, the divergence is illustrated in in this chart and elsewhere. One can preserve harmonic relationships using so-called “just intonation”, which is easily to do on electronic instruments, but would require our friend to retune his guitar whenever he changed keys.
Even if one accepts the harmonic series as central to making music, there are numerous ways to use it besides diatonic voice leading. Consider the first few harmonics, which form octaves and perfect fifths. Octaves and perfect fifths are the most consonant intervals – any popular or contemporary musician will immediately recognize them as “power chords.” Prior to the baroque era, such power chords were used quite often in western music, both serious and popular, as the consonances and cadences. In serious music, there were also the Greek modes, which initially did not include the Ionic mode corresponding to our modern notion of a major scale. Indeed, one of the more common modes was the Dorian mode, which can be found on the piano by playing the white keys starting on D. It is a minor mode that can be found in some of my favorite pre-baroque music such as Josquin Des Prez's Missa Mater Patris, and is the foundation for the blues scale that informs American jazz and popular music. Despite violating most of the rules Huchbald puts forth as inherent in music, minor modes sound quite “natural” and moving to most people.
And what of music beyond the harmonic series? Many (most?) acoustic instrument timbres have overtones outside the harmonic series, and indeed some instruments (e.g., bells) can be very inharmonic. Such inharmonicity can lend itself to different ideal tunings and scales than western just intonation, and indeed we see different tunings in other musical traditiions, such as Middle Eastern, South Asian and Southeast Asian (i.e., gamelan) music. Even where we don't hear the western diatonic scale and direct allusions to the harmonic series, we can nonetheless recognize the music as music, and appreciate it in many levels, from simple enjoyment to deep spiritual understanding.
As modern composers and musicians, we often work to subvert these traditions, and indeed I found myself experimental with alternate tunings, such as 19-tone and Bohlen 833 (Golden Ratio). They have tonicities that can be quite different from what we are used to, but a good composer should be able to immerse himself or herself in them and use knowledge from other musical experiences to produce something interesting.
Well, that's enough on the Monk's philosophy and my opinions to the contrary. In subsequent articles, I would like to touch more upon alternative tunings as well as some more of Hofstadter's writings, which certainly deserve more time.