Recovering, and Who to Root For

The con­cert went well, although I’m frus­trated with my many errors. More about that a lit­tle later. First, about the venue: I had never been in the Museum of Anthro­pol­ogy, and although I had seen pic­tures and even some movie scenes, I was really not pre­pared for the grandeur of the place. The main hall, where we set up our instru­ments, was a huge space, hous­ing sev­eral enor­mous pieces of abo­rig­i­nal art. The build­ing was entirely glass on one side, behind us, look­ing out on the Pacific. Near the end of our dress rehearsal, the sun appeared for one of those salmon-pink Van­cou­ver sunsets.

A few hours later, at the con­cert, we got a large crowd and they were atten­tive and applauded enthu­si­as­ti­cally. They sat on the floor near us (as we were) as well as in seats a lit­tle fur­ther back. They ranged from young kids to seniors. In many ways, it was one of the best con­cert venues and crowds I’ve seen in years. As to the per­for­mances, it was all a bit ragged, but the drama of the pieces all worked well. Some of the best moments were our end­ings, which all seemed to come off well. In some ways, that’s the best an ama­teur ‘com­mu­nity’ ensem­ble can get to.

As to how I did, well, I played far bet­ter in rehearsals (and there were many of them). Part of the prob­lem is that by the time the time of the con­cert arrived, my back was so sore from all the rehears­ing, load­ing of instru­ments on the truck the night before and unload­ing that day, that I was in a fair amount of pain. It was enough pain that I had trou­ble con­cen­trat­ing. I’m not mak­ing excuses, but I have to admit that for the first time, I actu­ally ran into a phys­i­cal lim­i­ta­tion in per­form­ing. That’s some­thing that I don’t remem­ber hap­pen­ing before. The body changes in the years between 30 and 45. I’ve also never been a per­cus­sion­ist, and that is demand­ing phys­i­cally; prob­a­bly harder on the back than the piano or con­duct­ing. I’m not going to give this up quite yet, but I’ll take it as a warn­ing. I’m almost recov­ered now, so I know the dam­age wasn’t per­ma­nent. Just some aching mus­cles from too much con­cen­trated activ­ity. I believe we’ll try and record the pieces of the con­cert. I’d look for­ward to that, as I know I can do better.

The Olympic Medal Count
Today the news reported that Canada has won a record num­ber of medals, and should be assured of at least 20 before the end of the games. That means they are tied for 3rd in the world. They’re only 1 behind the US. These days, when I hear peo­ple chant­ing ‘USA, USA!’ it almost seems like a joke — just another exam­ple of the jin­go­is­tic, self-centered coun­try I fled. I also love the idea of the under­dog win­ning (is that an Amer­i­can trait as well?). Will I be out there chant­ing ‘Canada, Canada!’? Prob­a­bly not, but I can’t help feel­ing a lit­tle pride that my newly adopted coun­try is show­ing the world that they can also pro­duce great ath­letes. Let’s hope another dop­ing scan­dal doesn’t sour the whole thing, as it did years ago.

Share

A Return to Performing

It’s been a while since I per­formed on stage in any­thing musi­cal. Think­ing back, I guess it would have been my sec­ond Doc­toral Recital at the Uni­ver­sity of Rochester’s East­man School. Holy Glock­en­spiel, Bat­man! That was over 18 years ago!

So, after a long hia­tus from the con­cert stage, I guess I get to return as I entered it, kneel­ing over a 5–6 bar metal xylo­phone. Except instead of this being Kinder­garten music play­time, it’s as part of an ama­teur Game­lan ensem­ble. I’ve men­tioned it ear­lier in this blog. (Gee, that’s twice in two post­ings that I’ve referred to ear­lier entries. Could I now just start repeat­ing myself?). I do get to move around a bit, mov­ing from the Saron (afore­men­tioned kid­die xylo­phone) to the Demung (slightly big­ger xylo­phone) and the gendér (more like a vibra­phone, but with­out the motor).

We have our last set of rehearsals from Fri­day on, and the con­cert will be at the Uni­ver­sity of British Columbia’s Museum of Anthro­pol­ogy, a build­ing that fig­ured promi­nently in one of the few movies that makes no illu­sions about the fact that it was shot here in Van­cou­ver, Inter­sec­tion, made in 1994 (star­ing Richard Gere, Sharon Stone, and Lolita Davi­dovich) . It truly is gor­geous. Tues­day, Feb. 21 at 7 PM. Admis­sion is free.

In the mean­time, I’m just try­ing to keep my head together as work starts to kick into a slightly higher gear, and time left for sleep seems less and less.

Share

Congratulations to Two Great People

I just found out that my friends Matt and Oana are engaged. Pam and I are just thrilled for them, and wish them all the best. It’s almost enough to get me off my Anti-Valentine’s Day horse

Share

One More Thing

Dur­ing one of the ses­sions yes­ter­day, my friend Dane found a hilar­i­ous Pho­to­shop com­pe­ti­tion on Worth1000 (who reg­u­larly hold those sorts of com­pe­ti­tions) that was titled: ‘If Cana­di­ans Ruled’. It was hard not to laugh out loud as maple leafs turned up every­where from the Eif­fel Tower to the Sid­ney Opera House. My favourite one, how­ever, didn’t involve a maple leaf (click to see this alter­na­tive Universe):

Alternate Universe


Well, we can dream, I suppose.

Share

Northern Voice, Day 2: Not so Wow

Maybe it was the fact that I was still a lit­tle tired from yes­ter­day, or per­haps it was the extra degree of struc­ture, but some­how, the sec­ond, more offi­cial day of North­ern Voice didn’t quite live up to the extra­or­di­nary energy and stim­u­la­tion of the first one.

The day started in the main The­atre, where Julie Leung of Bain­bridge Island gave a keynote address enti­tled “Start­ing with Fire: Why Sto­ries Are Essen­tial and How to Blog Effec­tive Tales”. She had clearly metic­u­lously writ­ten every word, and placed some­times ele­gant, some­times poetic images to accom­pany each and every idea. For me, it came off very earnest and a lit­tle… pre­cious. There were moments of humour, but mostly it was very, very seri­ous, and at a few points I actu­ally thought she was on the verge of tears. What dis­turbed me the most was that she started with a story of her own, of her expe­ri­ences as a lit­tle girl, wait­ing at the hos­pi­tal for her baby brother who was under­go­ing what must have been some seri­ous surgery, but that part of the tale was never resolved (even though it wasn’t cen­tral to her nar­ra­tive). This had the per­haps unfore­seen effect of caus­ing me (and oth­ers in the audi­ence, I learned later) to won­der if there was a happy or tragic end­ing wait­ing in the wings, per­haps to come in at the end to tie things up at the con­clu­sion, the way that Gar­ri­son Keil­lor does so often in his Lake Wobe­gon mono­logues. It never came, and we were left hang­ing about the brother. I feel a bit churl­ish for crit­i­ciz­ing her — Could I do bet­ter? I’m not sure, but I cer­tainly would have done it dif­fer­ently. More jokes, maybe.

Update: I learned that at the begin­ning of her speech last year, Julie spoke of scat­ter­ing her brother’s ashes on the beach with her fam­ily. It is a shame that I had no way of know­ing that this year’s speech was partly an epi­logue to an emotionally-charged chap­ter last year, and these facts now account for the seri­ous tone of her remarks. While I don’t see a sim­ple answer as to how to bring new lis­ten­ers up-to-date, leav­ing the inci­dent largely unsaid was also prob­lem­atic. I take from this the les­son that one shouldn’t assume that your audi­ence is either the same peo­ple you spoke to at an ear­lier time, or that the rest will some­how catch on. Audi­ences (myself included) are usu­ally unable to con­nect the dots.

Any­way, onward: The keynote got a fol­low up of Dave Sifry, the CEO and founder of Tech­no­rati , who I had heard a great deal from on the pre­vi­ous day. He was on stage with Tim Bray of Sun Microsys­tems. Together, they were some pretty heavy-hitters in the world of blog­ging. There wasn’t that much struc­ture here, aside from some inter­est­ing obser­va­tions and pre­dic­tions on the growth of blogs. in short, they seem to be par­al­lel­ing what we saw years ago with the rise of web sites: Roughly every sec­ond a new blog is being cre­ated. Half of the new blogs are get­ting posts from their authors once a week or less. This growth will level off at some point — it has to. Nev­er­the­less, blog­ging is sig­nif­i­cant enough a phe­nom­e­non that last year the word ‘blog’ was the single-most impor­tant new word of 2005, accord­ing to the Oxford Eng­lish Dic­tio­nary (I learned this at a Pub­lic Library pre­sen­ta­tion about blog­ging a few weeks ago). Sifry had a fas­ci­nat­ing obser­va­tion on adver­tis­ing and how mar­keters haven’t learned that there are many times when we want ads: When­ever we call stores to request a cat­a­log. In addi­tion, there are mag­a­zines like InStyle and Gear that are essen­tially all ads. Also, up here in Canada, I, along with most of the other net-savvy geeks, got to see those cre­ative and funny Super­Bowl ads only by get­ting them on the Inter­net (they weren’t shown on Cana­dian TV so we actu­ally had to go and find them!) How’s that for a case of wanted advertising?

Before lunch, there were two fine pre­sen­ta­tions. The first was by Susie Gard­ner called ‘I’m Too Sexy for my Blog: Blog Design for Every­one’. She had a tough job of deal­ing with a sub­ject that about half the audi­ence were experts on, and the other half were per­haps utterly unfa­mil­iar. I’ve seen her speak twice now, and both times she’s been a con­sis­tently good presenter.

Colin Brumelle, who I’d met months ago at one of the Blog­ger Mee­tups for blog­gers, gave a beau­ti­fully paced (and designed) pre­sen­ta­tion about Music 2.0. After an inter­est­ing sur­vey of the his­tory of music record­ing from Edi­son on, it was was really about how the new dis­tri­b­u­tion medium of the Inter­net and file for­mats are mak­ing the only remain­ing rel­e­vant activ­ity by Record Labels the pro­mo­tion of artists. Gee, if we could do that via the Inter­net, the pos­si­bil­ity of a vastly larger and more diverse pop­u­la­tion of musi­cians could pro­duce what Colin called a ‘Middle-Class Musi­cian’, who is not a super­star, but is able to live off of their work as a musi­cian. Not unlike the days of Bach and Haydn, all the way up to per­haps, Strauss (in other words, all the way to just about the early days of the advent of record­ing technology).

After a brief lunch break, I returned for a some­what less inspir­ing ses­sion on pod­cast­ing and videoblog­ging. Attempt­ing to recap­ture some of the excite­ment of the pre­vi­ous day, I next went to the ‘Geek Out’ ses­sion, which quickly devolved into a ses­sion for trad­ing tips on great Fire­fox plu­g­ins we seen or used. Rather than go to the last ses­sion, I actu­ally did what some oth­ers had done dur­ing the day, and chat­ted with atten­dees in the lobby area of the con­fer­ence. There was no final wrap-up or evening activ­ity. It just sort of fiz­zled out. There are thou­sands of pic­tures of the whole event on Flickr (what would you expect). I’m even in a few of them.

My take from the past two days is that there is a truck­load of spec­tac­u­larly tal­ented and ded­i­cated Inter­net devel­op­ers and con­tent pro­duc­ers in this area. It’s no won­der that impor­tant ser­vices and prod­ucts like Flickr and Now­Pub­lic are being pro­duced in Van­cou­ver. With the drop­ping price of soft­ware and abun­dance of cheap hard­ware, as one per­son put it: “These days all you need is a great idea and a good coder. So for­get about all of that dot-com ven­ture cap­i­tal­ist non­sense.” This is a healthy state of affairs, and very cheer­ing to me.

My main wish is that the entire two days could have been reversed, as the sec­ond day felt a bit anti­cli­mac­tic (as you can prob­a­bly see from the post title). I’ll look for­ward to attend­ing next year – and I have no doubt the momen­tum of Feb 10th can carry Dar­ren Bare­foot and his vol­un­teers for­ward to North­ern Voice 2007.

Share