the torturer and tortured…………..

How fine a line between the torturer and tortured…………..

Nothing has appalled me more in the last decade than to see the photos
from Abu Ghraib, and to listen to sound bites from water boarding sessions
as our enemies were tortured for information in order to save American
citizen’s lives. As the sun set on 911 a dear friend of mine suggested
that there are times in history when it is appropriate to fight evil with evil, for one split second
I agreed, but just as suddenly I lurched back in horror at my own black conspiratorial heart.
In this dichotomy, this paradox, the music for Los Caprichos was born.
I saw through the eyes of Francisco Goya in his terrifying prints, “Los Caprichos, a similar mix of fascination and repulsion. Goya’s ability to capture the emotional nightmare of repression, fear, and superstition, like a primordial photojournalist, has left an indelible impression on all who feel this truth resonate in their world.

What a Slut!!!!

Dear Ira,

I was already reading the article with Wourinen, Levine, And Harbison when you forwarded it to me. So for the last 2 days now I have been secretly annoyed. A low grade infection has been troubling me, and I think I'm about to find out what its all about. First let me digress. Wourinen had a recent premiere, which engendered from many seasoned listeners, intelligent souls, and flexible ears a response, which for lack of better words was simply underwhelming. One knowledgeable friend, whom I respect, quipped he (Wourinen) "has done more to set back new music over the years than anyone". According to his theory, at which the sycophant Levine chimed in: It couldn't be clearer . The more work required of an audience to appreciate/ apprehend (I love that word) art, the greater its artfulness and by the same token that which requires no effort in understanding is merely entertainment (no judgment intended)! Mien Gott, So that’s why I've never liked or understood, or comprehended his music, try as I might, after withering attempts, repeated listening, studying his theoretic tomes. It must be, simply, that I am too shallow to "get it".

My secret is finally exposed; I do not want to work that hard to appreciate art. I am Lazy. Years of loafing in front of Michelangelo’s, Da Vinci's, Botticelli's, Manet's, Gauguin’s, staring endlessly at the sensual outpouring of form, shape & harmony; Hours in the hammock reading Thomas Wolff, Thomas Mann, Shakespeare; Evenings intoning the words of Gerard Manly Hopkins, Mayakovsky, Cummings, Neruda not to mention listening to the unabashedly trashy music of Bach, Mozart, Vivaldi, Rachmaninoff, and, oh my lord, Copland. I now understand, it was all toooooooooo easy! I am an utter slut consumer of loose, falling over backwards pleased to meet cha' and I use this word reluctantly, accessible Art.
Shoot, I feel cheated and low. Thank you Mr. Wourinen.

Motherfocation

Motherfocation

“I remember as a three year old an early example of my musical expressiveness; banging on pots n' pans in the kitchen floor, it was a true joy! However, after my second or third try, having discovered the thrill of sudden crescendos and sforzandos my mother grew weary of my primitive music making; her requests to stop, grew into demands, and then demands grew into threats, then something snapped!!! my mother yanked me up off the floor by my arm, slinging me into the air and tossed me into the pantry closet, slammed the door and left me there for I don't know how long, or at least until my hysterical screaming had died down enough to cause her to wonder whether or not I was still breathing; after all no one had ever checked the seal around the door jamb to see if it was air tight.
My little soul was consumed with fear and total darkness.
Finally she let me out, and I was a shattered,
splattered case of terror & gratefulness, thankful to be free, to see light, to be accepted,
as well as angry and scared at what might happen to me in the future. Nine years later I won the Jefferson Standard Scholarship to go to Brevard Music Center. A lovely percussion work was my audition piece.”