Well, it's the last class.

I didn't really know what to expect when I signed up for this class. I came out of DePauw with lots and lots of 21CM on the brain, but I didn't know how that could be turned into an actual class, with lectures and homework and all. Aside from my initial ADD-induced breakdowns, this class was pretty satisfying. We read interesting material, talked about interesting things, and were encouraged to find new information of our own. The blogging platform and Wikipedia article were great ways to blend academic homework with new media technology, which is a necessity in this day and age. The only thing that I missed... was getting out. I think the class could have benefitted from at least one "field trip" to a forward-thinking musical performance. With only eight people, nine including Isaiah, it wouldn't be that hard to get reservations. This is something that I did several years ago with a group from DePauw in New York. We spent two weeks going from performance to performance and documenting our reactions. Boston is chock full of opportunities and I think we could take advantage of them together.

My articles:
The Oatmeal's State of the Music Industry
The Relationship between Box Office and Repertoire
Fifth House Ensemble
Dean McCoy talks 21CM
Eric Whitacre's Virtual Choir
Better Concert Experience
The Chili Video
Met Stars Made Humble

The Review of The Class

It is almost the end of the semester. After 12 classes of “The Future of Classical Music,” I benefited very much from not only reading books by Cook, Hewett, and Levine, but also blogs written by my classmates. In the class, we always bring the latest information about music to each other, and discuss it; our discussions include the past and future of the classical music’s development and tendency. Sometimes there are special guests who visit, and make our class more interesting. We have had two appointments with Dean Chin to talk about how to make Longy better, how to improve the school, and obtain his sincerest responses. Although some of our questions have not been resolved, I appreciate that the school cares about students’ ideas.

I like the arrangement and the content of this class, and I enjoy the process of our discussion every time. When I finish this class, it inspired me several new points and attempts of classical music such as the presentation of the performance, audience’s reactions, and the development of the classical music.

An Unlikely Spot III

I went to an art party.

The attending crowd was a young Boston, with the additional festering ganglion of New York City.

The location was dismal and outdated, worn under the barely adhered tiling, with the heavy footed art-mongerers making their figure eights from canvas to beer table.

Large windows beckoned a predictable accident while the floor was strewn with half inflated, half painted balloons stabbed by crumpled business cards, forgotten, and never to be followed up on.

I saw the stage.  

The bands were to be expected; metal, noisy, pointless, banging on trashcans with drumsticks (the meat kind). 

It was time for my exit, perhaps with a precisely timed stumble from the balcony, when I caught sight of the next act. 

They were a band, a large band, of women and men, all dressed in black, and carrying classical instruments.

They had real instruments and sheet music.  I decided to stick around.

They fit their multitude of musicians onto the small platform, which groaned with the splintering of its base boards. 

The leader of them was scrappy and dashing,  the kind of rock star that is born out of a tuna can.  

With his slung guitar, he ordered a tuning.  

They began with a murdering buzz, light on its heels with spots of color from the up-bow.

They built and my knees softened. 

The wonted diva entered next.

She was a fragile blonde, off-kilter and poignant, but her voice boomed.  

She ornamented the music with drops of Calexico fragrance, blipping the sonar high notes on a dime. 

They played, hopping lofts of consensual classical ideas, with footnotes of their own sapor.

They swept the building, and captivated the disgruntled.    

I, being one of them, loved it. 

It ended, and I approached the Maestro.    

The frenzied frontman spoke with a pinned grin as he orated their mission to bring a new setting of classical music to the masses.

I told him, with a mixture of jest and jealousy, I may be interested in auditioning for a spot.

He politely informed me I must attend the school to join the band.