I have no idea how many of you have heard of Marc Andre Hamelin. If you haven't, you need to listen to him. Looking through the music that I have been given to browse through for my sister's wedding I keep coming back to Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2. My piano teacher gave me the music - the actual for piano arranged by Franz Liszt music- as a gag end of the 14 or so odd years of learning from him gift. Over the last five years I keep looking at it, and thinking: If I were really good I could play this.
A little background on the piece. If I remember what I learned in my beginning Piano by Thompson books (the red ones) Liszt was heavily influenced by his heritage while writing...19 Rhapsodies. His heritage being predominately Hungarian/Rom/~ Gypsy. I know that this particular Rhapsody can make or break a performer, highly technical while at the same time allowing the performer to express themselves in a wide array of styles. Number 2 uses the Gypsy scale more than any of the other piece Liszt wrote. It is also originally for piano, then was later adapted for orchestra. That means that the technicalities of the piece become easier as opposed to harder when "fleshing the piece out" - Instead of condensing an orchestra into one instrument, you water down the piece throughout the orchestra.-
We have all heard this piece. It is a classic in Tom and Jerry. Tom is playing the piano, and Jerry drives him nuts as usual inside the piano. At the end Jerry takes the bow for playing such a hard piece and poor Tom is left ragged and his tuxedo is in shambles.
I can't help but think of a carousel whenever I heard the second and third movements.
For those of you who still have no idea what I'm talking about, here is a video from youtube of Marc Andre Hamelin playing this piece at and concert in Japan. Listen and watch this piece twice. First time through don't even watch the video just listen to it. Listen to how discordant the melodies and harmonies are. Try to pick out your favorite bits. Listen for how little he uses any pedal or modulation of the voice of the piece. Can you pick out all of the separate movements and how they play on each other? Does one part of the piece remind you of another part?
The second time you listen and watch the piece actually watch the performer play. Watch his reactions and emotions to the music. For heaven's sake watch how fast he can move his fingers!
Anyway...
If that doesn't blow your mind, or if you just don't appreciate music try some comedy. Victor Borge plays the same piece with the Muppet Rowlf. You could check that one out too.
Buck
Friday, July 16, 2010
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Oats
As the first weekend in August is nearing with a drastic pace at the farm we are left with two options. 1. Grit our teeth tighten the belt and raise the battle cry of "GIT SOME!" Or, we can pray for rain and sabotage equipment.
The first weekend in August will be very busy at the farm. We have a treshing machine coming out and hopefully, I'll be able to sneek anyone that wants to see some really cool oldie-timie steam powered belt driven threshing a chance to see that. However, in order to be prepared for said event that means that the oats need to be cut and bound, then shocked, then hauled so that we might "thrash them there wheat." For future refrence if a word has an "e" in it, do not pronounce the word with an "a". Anyway. Farmer T needed some help getting the paddle binder set up so me being me, wandered on over thinking I'd get either a chance to drive two teams of horses at the same time, or operate some machinery I've never seen used before.
Alas, such was not the case. We decided to pick the hottest day of the year so far which ment that we couldn't safely use the horses. Also there were only two guys. Farmer T said that we needed at least one more, and the ladies who were working were "occupied". (Without a doubt we will hear that the ladies should be able to do that kind of work too...) So, instead of binding right away, we set up the binder with a steel tractor tounge, took the eveners off and brought up the "red horse" the Farmall M. It should go without saying, I didn't even let Farmer T finish the question of, "You want to..." I was already up on the seat, putting in the clutch and then had to pause. I was unaware that the collections side of the farm had retrofitted the M so that it ran on 12 volts. Not 6. It has an electric ignition. Farmer T just pointed that out and I fired her up and we were cruising.
We made a couple of passes until the carriage of the binder broke, so we paused to fix that. Then the shield fell off and we had to re-run the twine. Then one of the paddles wasn't cut to the right length, and we were too far from the barn to get a saw so we broke it down to size with some pliers. So...our first four passes took about 2 hours. After that we were cruising. Low gear low throttle cause I had no idea how quick the horses would be able to pull it. Then E drove out to the field and wanted to operate the binder and Farmer T hopped up on the axle while I was driving. He told me to punch it up to third and full throttle. I looked at him to make sure he was serious but I'm still not sure. I popped the clutch a bit to quick and we almost lost E off of her seat. Which is a hard thing to do considering it has a back on it.
Anyway, it was my first time this season back on a tractor and Farmer T put the itch back into me. So, since then after hours, I check the gas, hop up, start her up and just cruise around for an hour or so enjoying the quiet of the farm. I got pulled over tonight by one of the maintenance guys who shook his head at me and scolded me for driving a red tractor. I laughed and said that the only green tractor he'll see me on is an Oliver. He looked kind of puzzled for a minute, but maybe he just had gas. Told me to lock up the shop and to remember to turn off the gas. I waved said sure, and rode fifth gear into the sunset.
Also, got the suit for Big Sister's wedding. Waiting to get that sheet music in the store.
Buck
The first weekend in August will be very busy at the farm. We have a treshing machine coming out and hopefully, I'll be able to sneek anyone that wants to see some really cool oldie-timie steam powered belt driven threshing a chance to see that. However, in order to be prepared for said event that means that the oats need to be cut and bound, then shocked, then hauled so that we might "thrash them there wheat." For future refrence if a word has an "e" in it, do not pronounce the word with an "a". Anyway. Farmer T needed some help getting the paddle binder set up so me being me, wandered on over thinking I'd get either a chance to drive two teams of horses at the same time, or operate some machinery I've never seen used before.
Alas, such was not the case. We decided to pick the hottest day of the year so far which ment that we couldn't safely use the horses. Also there were only two guys. Farmer T said that we needed at least one more, and the ladies who were working were "occupied". (Without a doubt we will hear that the ladies should be able to do that kind of work too...) So, instead of binding right away, we set up the binder with a steel tractor tounge, took the eveners off and brought up the "red horse" the Farmall M. It should go without saying, I didn't even let Farmer T finish the question of, "You want to..." I was already up on the seat, putting in the clutch and then had to pause. I was unaware that the collections side of the farm had retrofitted the M so that it ran on 12 volts. Not 6. It has an electric ignition. Farmer T just pointed that out and I fired her up and we were cruising.
We made a couple of passes until the carriage of the binder broke, so we paused to fix that. Then the shield fell off and we had to re-run the twine. Then one of the paddles wasn't cut to the right length, and we were too far from the barn to get a saw so we broke it down to size with some pliers. So...our first four passes took about 2 hours. After that we were cruising. Low gear low throttle cause I had no idea how quick the horses would be able to pull it. Then E drove out to the field and wanted to operate the binder and Farmer T hopped up on the axle while I was driving. He told me to punch it up to third and full throttle. I looked at him to make sure he was serious but I'm still not sure. I popped the clutch a bit to quick and we almost lost E off of her seat. Which is a hard thing to do considering it has a back on it.
Anyway, it was my first time this season back on a tractor and Farmer T put the itch back into me. So, since then after hours, I check the gas, hop up, start her up and just cruise around for an hour or so enjoying the quiet of the farm. I got pulled over tonight by one of the maintenance guys who shook his head at me and scolded me for driving a red tractor. I laughed and said that the only green tractor he'll see me on is an Oliver. He looked kind of puzzled for a minute, but maybe he just had gas. Told me to lock up the shop and to remember to turn off the gas. I waved said sure, and rode fifth gear into the sunset.
Also, got the suit for Big Sister's wedding. Waiting to get that sheet music in the store.
Buck
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Falco
It feels like a very long time since I've had a sit down heart-to-heart with myself for the entire world to see. Let's take a ride.
June was...well it was crazy. There really isn't another way to put it. We got back from Sarah's wedding - which was very cool - in the wee hours of the morning. Kate was already out like a light, Mother had dozed for a good 120 miles. Hence why I vollunteered to drive. The ladies kept harping on me that it was because I had to be in control of the vehicle, or that I would probably get car sick, among all sorts of reasons why it is funny that "men always drive". For my part, yes, I would rather be in control of the vehicle, although I trust my mother and my sister with my life. No, I don't really get car sick. Usually when I'm riding it's because it was the best solution to get home safely. My reasoning and it still stands is that, I know I can function perfectly well on very little sleep if any. I also know my mother and my sister. I've known them all my life, Ma is usually out cold around 9 or 10 pm. Kate can stay up late, but she was working on a few hours deficit. I figured I was the best one suited for the job.
Anyway. June at work was wet. We have had the wettest June since 1873 when they started keeping track of that kind of stuff. That being said however, first cutting of hay was done on time and in time. Corn is up cultivated, and looking superb. The wheat is ready to harvest. The only real big problem is firewood. We don't have enough and what we have is all wet. Yet my bosses still won't let me go nuts on building my wood shed for the 50 farm. Because "nobody south of the 45 parallel would have a wood shed."
Despite my supervisors declining permission to begin construction on this "inappropriate shed from hell that will make life easier" I have in fact begun construction on it. Mullberry trees are my posts. The floor from the old barn will serve as roofing material. I'm working on collecting green elms for the crosses and supports. For the most part I have gathered all of these materials while on the clock, and while not neglecting my other duties as an interpreter. So there.
Jessie came down from So. Dakota for a party we had on the 3rd of July. She got here early enough that she toured through the farms and chat-chitted with people. She came to the conclusion very early into the tour that most of us are burnt out. We hit the "PLAY" button when people show up but for the most part we're doing our own thing until someone either stops us or asks a quesiton. Now that's kind of my my MO for...three years now. Yes, when there's a school tour, or a day camp, or a group of kids, I bust my butt to make sure that those kids remember something. Even if it's the line, "I would run away from a crazy guy with a beard hitting me with a stick". But the old time farmers, who I love to swap stories with over coffee, hate me when I'm at work. Just because I realize that I have no hope of educating them in how gloriously ignorant they are in regards to farming techniques in central Iowa in the 1850's. They just relate it back to "we used a sickle just like that (pointint at the grain cradle) to cut weeds around fence lines." My reply started three years ago as, "how'd that work seeing that the fence lines would have torn apart the dowels?" and is now, "No you didn't. You might have used a sickle, but you didn't use anything like that". To be honest, I don't say that outloud, but it is deafening when I think it that loud.
I just don't know anymore. 'S a topsy turvy world we're living in. Thank God for gravity and taxes.
Went back home recently on a vacation of sorts. I hadn't planned on staying for more than a wedding reception because the plan was to go camp. But some stuff happened, then some other stuff...and I was in Illinois for longer than planned. Camping was great. Other than I got skunked out on the water with six lines in the drink and four days of fishing. To make it worse, not 10 feet from me an eagle snagged a fish one morning. I started yelling at the eagle shouting, "Teach me your ways! Why did God give me arms instead of wings and feet instead of talons? Teach this young grasshopper!" The eagle just kept on flying. Jerk.
Met some real nice folk up north got a bumber sticker that says, "Don't eat yellow snow, don't drink yellow beer" I thought it was catchy. I promptly gave it to 15 or so year old kid sitting next to me at a free lumber jack show cause he was eye balling it.
Got in touch with Monica this past week. She will be my co-coach with the nationals team this winter. She has all these plans that she wants to accomplish with the girls. I had to reign her back into the real world where we haven't even had tryouts yet. But on the plus side, she knows what she's doing. Which leaves me in the administration and setter and hitters coaching role. Curt, the big boss man of the coaches, took me aside earlier this summer to let me in on a secret: I'm there to keep the parents in check. Monica is too nice a girl to say no, whereas as I am apparently not a nice girl. News to me.
Anyway. Big sister got a pretty sa-weet job and I'm excited for her. I finally got my orientation stuff for school, and the more I think about it, the more that I realize I might have to put it off for another year, or at least semester. I'm scheduled to go up there on Thursday and talk some things over with a counselor. I haven't had much luck with them in my higher education carreer. Hopefully this changes.
If you need me you know how to get in touch with me.
Buck
June was...well it was crazy. There really isn't another way to put it. We got back from Sarah's wedding - which was very cool - in the wee hours of the morning. Kate was already out like a light, Mother had dozed for a good 120 miles. Hence why I vollunteered to drive. The ladies kept harping on me that it was because I had to be in control of the vehicle, or that I would probably get car sick, among all sorts of reasons why it is funny that "men always drive". For my part, yes, I would rather be in control of the vehicle, although I trust my mother and my sister with my life. No, I don't really get car sick. Usually when I'm riding it's because it was the best solution to get home safely. My reasoning and it still stands is that, I know I can function perfectly well on very little sleep if any. I also know my mother and my sister. I've known them all my life, Ma is usually out cold around 9 or 10 pm. Kate can stay up late, but she was working on a few hours deficit. I figured I was the best one suited for the job.
Anyway. June at work was wet. We have had the wettest June since 1873 when they started keeping track of that kind of stuff. That being said however, first cutting of hay was done on time and in time. Corn is up cultivated, and looking superb. The wheat is ready to harvest. The only real big problem is firewood. We don't have enough and what we have is all wet. Yet my bosses still won't let me go nuts on building my wood shed for the 50 farm. Because "nobody south of the 45 parallel would have a wood shed."
Despite my supervisors declining permission to begin construction on this "inappropriate shed from hell that will make life easier" I have in fact begun construction on it. Mullberry trees are my posts. The floor from the old barn will serve as roofing material. I'm working on collecting green elms for the crosses and supports. For the most part I have gathered all of these materials while on the clock, and while not neglecting my other duties as an interpreter. So there.
Jessie came down from So. Dakota for a party we had on the 3rd of July. She got here early enough that she toured through the farms and chat-chitted with people. She came to the conclusion very early into the tour that most of us are burnt out. We hit the "PLAY" button when people show up but for the most part we're doing our own thing until someone either stops us or asks a quesiton. Now that's kind of my my MO for...three years now. Yes, when there's a school tour, or a day camp, or a group of kids, I bust my butt to make sure that those kids remember something. Even if it's the line, "I would run away from a crazy guy with a beard hitting me with a stick". But the old time farmers, who I love to swap stories with over coffee, hate me when I'm at work. Just because I realize that I have no hope of educating them in how gloriously ignorant they are in regards to farming techniques in central Iowa in the 1850's. They just relate it back to "we used a sickle just like that (pointint at the grain cradle) to cut weeds around fence lines." My reply started three years ago as, "how'd that work seeing that the fence lines would have torn apart the dowels?" and is now, "No you didn't. You might have used a sickle, but you didn't use anything like that". To be honest, I don't say that outloud, but it is deafening when I think it that loud.
I just don't know anymore. 'S a topsy turvy world we're living in. Thank God for gravity and taxes.
Went back home recently on a vacation of sorts. I hadn't planned on staying for more than a wedding reception because the plan was to go camp. But some stuff happened, then some other stuff...and I was in Illinois for longer than planned. Camping was great. Other than I got skunked out on the water with six lines in the drink and four days of fishing. To make it worse, not 10 feet from me an eagle snagged a fish one morning. I started yelling at the eagle shouting, "Teach me your ways! Why did God give me arms instead of wings and feet instead of talons? Teach this young grasshopper!" The eagle just kept on flying. Jerk.
Met some real nice folk up north got a bumber sticker that says, "Don't eat yellow snow, don't drink yellow beer" I thought it was catchy. I promptly gave it to 15 or so year old kid sitting next to me at a free lumber jack show cause he was eye balling it.
Got in touch with Monica this past week. She will be my co-coach with the nationals team this winter. She has all these plans that she wants to accomplish with the girls. I had to reign her back into the real world where we haven't even had tryouts yet. But on the plus side, she knows what she's doing. Which leaves me in the administration and setter and hitters coaching role. Curt, the big boss man of the coaches, took me aside earlier this summer to let me in on a secret: I'm there to keep the parents in check. Monica is too nice a girl to say no, whereas as I am apparently not a nice girl. News to me.
Anyway. Big sister got a pretty sa-weet job and I'm excited for her. I finally got my orientation stuff for school, and the more I think about it, the more that I realize I might have to put it off for another year, or at least semester. I'm scheduled to go up there on Thursday and talk some things over with a counselor. I haven't had much luck with them in my higher education carreer. Hopefully this changes.
If you need me you know how to get in touch with me.
Buck
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