Sequenza21

On July 3, the very excellent percussionist, Sam Solomon, presented a Boston University Tangelwood Institute (BUTI) faculty recital at Trinity Church in Lenox (Ma). His program included pieces by Nico Muhly, Eric Hewitt, Michael Early, David T. Little, Marcos Balter, and Judd Greenstein, two of them–Hewitt and Early–first performances. Due to the circumstances, the place was packed with attentive and enthusiatic teenagers, although that doesn’t mean that such a demographic wouldn’t necessarily show up to such a performance somewhere else, given how exciting and entertaining this one was.

Every one of the pieces was thoughtfully made and impressively and interestingly executed, and every one was snappy and enjoyable to listen to, and, I suppose, to watch, although my own sight lines weren’t all that good. Anyone of them, by itself, would have impressed me a fair amount. I found myself thinking, though, that, just as just about every piece for harp, flute, and one or two strings seems to suggest that Debussy figured out almost everything that could be done with the combination and did it a while ago, and therefore just about every piece ends up sounding a little like the Debussy sonata, every piece for percussion has a similar kind of strategy and intention. Each had its point, including the peppy beginning of the Muhly, the slightly random, water dripping in the sink, first section of the Early, and the general spashiness of the Balter. David T. Little’s Three Sams concentrated first on pitches in (—)I Am (a very engaging line with unexpected and enjoyable twists and turns, then on non pitched elements, especially cymbals and drums in the dark and angry Son of (—), and then combined them in the slow and mournful Wicked Uncle (—), with the pitched elements suggesting the ghosts of half remembered half recognizable hymns and patriotic songs. Judd Greenstein’s biblically titled We Shall Be Turned, was perhaps the most memorable for being the quietest and most meditative of the pieces, starting with a simple pattern and returning to it again as the starting point for each of its increasingly longer and most complex discourses.

Sam Solomon’s performance was elegant, eloquent, and full of pazazz. He played each of the pieces as though it was the most important thing in the world. It was wonderful to hear. The recital, at just about a hour without an intermission, was exactly the right length.

Last Thursday, the NEA funding increases survived three hostile amendments in the House and ultimately made it through to approval unscathed.  The most hostile of the amendments, offered by Doub Lamborn (R-CO), would have eliminated funding for the NEA, and was defeated 97-335.  Of those 97 yes votes, 3 were Democrats: Gene Taylor of Mississippi, Ike Skelton of Missouri, and Jim Matheson of Utah.  The Republicans were split roughly 50/50, with 94 ayes and 104 nays.  The closest vote was for the Bishop amendment to move $31.6 Million from the NEA to the Bureau of Land Management, the Fish and Wildlife Service, National Parks, and the Forest Service.  The 156-270 defeat was a 114 vote margin (i.e. 57 people changing their vote from nay to aye would have resulted in a tie.).

Interestingly, the Bishop amendment was the first offered.  The Brown-Waite amendment to remove the NEA increase outright was offered and defeated by a wider margin (137-285) the following day.  The Lamborn amendment was the second-to-last amendment offered, at a point when one imagines that Lamborn knew it had no chance of passage, which leads me to suspect that it was simple posturing rather than a serious threat.  NEA support seems strong, overall, and I am encouraged for the bill’s prospects in the Senate.  Furthermore, this increase has gotten relatively little media coverage, which probably means that the media doesn’t consider it a controversial or otherwise interesting issue.  Given the extent to which the NEA has historically served as a proxy for conservative frustrations with the government, that the nation seems to see this funding increase as routine and unremarkable is probably a good sign for those of us who support a robust NEA.

One of my dearest friends and a neighbor of many years died this afternoon.  He was a lifelong bachelor who had lost most of the hearing in both ears when an anti-tank gun fired while he was crawling under it in France during World War II when he was 19.  He went on to become a respected man of science, a cancer researcher, and a well-known skeptic of alternative medicine.  He had no tolerance for miracle cures and especially hated those who sold hope to the hopeless with their promises of blood transfers and shark skin enemas and other exotic cures.  He was not warm and cuddly and he didn’t have a lot of friends and I was one of them.  I saw him today about a half hour before he died but the last time we connected was on Thursday, just before he went into that final morpheus cloud.  I was talking to him when he suddenly opened his eyes–for the first time in several days–and squeezed my hand.  His eyes said:  “Don’t be afraid.  It’s not that big a deal.  It’s just science.”