Okay…go to: List of Common Misconceptions on Wikipedia
A timely republishing of an xkcd comic on misconceptions.
Okay…go to: List of Common Misconceptions on Wikipedia
A review of the Mass in b minor performance as part of the 2011 Arizona Bach Festival
Few pieces in all the repertory have as much gravitas as JS Bach's Mass in b minor (S. 232). From time to time, when I put together my top 5 favorite pieces in all the repertory, this piece is constantly in that list in a high spot. The top spot in that list of five is often the piece that speaks to me the most at that given moment, and Bach's statement of faith is certainly prominent and poignant to me at this moment.
As my regular concert review readers will note, I usually include a bit of history of the work. As indicated by its title, the work is an entire setting of the Catholic Mass text, containing a Kyrie, a Gloria, the Symbolum Nicenum (Credo), the Sanctus and Benedictus, and an Agnus Dei. The piece was written and compiled over the last 15 or so years of Bach's life with significant portions borrowed from previous works. Recent Bach scholarship seems to show that Bach felt the pieces he borrowed for the Mass were the best of his writing. When Bach borrowed from himself, he ensured that those pieces' texts matched the mood of the various portion of the Mass.
The first two major sections of this Mass, the Kyrie and the Gloria, were actually written as a sort of job application to become the court composer for the Elector of Saxony, a post that Bach did not receive. This makes one think: what was the eventual court composer's piece if it ousted Bach? I can't imagine. Bach's Kyrie and Gloria are divine.
There's also a lot of numerology in the Mass in b minor. Both the Gloria and the Credo portions are split into nine movements (the number of the Trinity is three and three times three is nine). The Sanctus is scored for six voices (three times two).
History, scholarship, and numerology aside, Saturday's performance was absolutely sublime. I'd have to consider it a historically-informed performance even if the orchestra did not use period instruments. The tuning system used, 1/6 syntonic comma, played into the different keys of the various movements. I'm not an expert on temperament, but I do know this: D Major, a key frequently used throughout, sounded jubilant. B minor, the reference key of this piece, was full of lament.
As to be expected, the 26-voice, GRAMMY-winning Phoenix Chorale was at the top of their game. Long-time Phoenicians will note that until recently, the Chorale was called the Phoenix Bach Choir, and it's good to see them return to their roots every now and again. One observation was that during Bach's contrapuntal writing where different voice parts have different words, each part's lyric became slightly muddied. In addition, the basses seemed to be drowned out by the other voice parts and instruments. A solid bass line, often carried by the choral basses, is the foundation of good Baroque music.
Joining the Phoenix Chorale was an orchestra that might have been a bit underpowered in places, namely upper strings. The chamber ensemble Haagsche Hofmuzieck, having previously played one of the concerts of the 2011 Arizona Bach Festival, joined in the festival orchestra. Two of the Hofmuzieck's four members had prominent solos throughout the Mass, and both were delightful. On his game was Marcin Świątkiewicz at the organ continuo. Most Baroque organ continuo players simply play chords on top of the figured bass notation that is given to them, a phrase that one of my organist friends like to call "chopping cabbage." Mr. Świątkiewicz gave us a delectable entire salad, not only giving us basic block chords but a lyrical and melodic line on top of everything. In fact, his method for tuning the orchestra was fascinating to listen.
What makes or breaks a performance of the Mass in b minor is the conductor's choice of tempi. Scott Alan Youngs, the conductor, picked appropriate tempi. Some of his tempi choices were slightly on the slow side (namely in the first Kyrie eleison); none were too quick. The orchestra, choir, and soloists were responsive to Youngs's tempi, something to be applauded.
Unlike last year, where solo parts went to various members of the Phoenix Chorale, some singers were brought in to complement the Chorale. The exception was David Topping, who not only sings in the Phoenix Chorale, but helped arrange the orchestra's seating, aided in the pre-concert lecture, helped sell tickets, and help to arrange and organize the Arizona Bach Festival. Certainly I would be tired from all that but Mr. Topping was not. All of the soloists performed with a straight and genuine tone devoid of any dramatic operatic elements, something that was certainly enjoyable.
Like last year's performance of Bach's Christmas Oratorio, Central United Methodist Church was a packed house. With two extremely successful Arizona Bach Festivals now in the history books, what will happen for the 2012 edition? It might be about a year away, and already I cannot wait.
Despite disagreeing on a lot, there is one thing that we agree on: Six are dead. Fourteen are wounded. A community, state, and nation is in shock.
[Quick note: We'll be back to your regularly scheduled blog posts in a moment, but I think I need to take a bit of time and try to put two and two together on what happened on a otherwise peaceful Saturday morning in Tucson, where six innocent souls were killed and fourteen more, including a U.S. Representative, were wounded.]
I'm still trying to comprehend the events of Saturday morning. Each and every time I think I've come up with a decent explanation for what happened, I realize that there isn't one.
If I have the story straight, the suspect walked to the scene of a meet-and-greet with Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords, opened fire, killing six and wounding fourteen. We don't yet know the motives of Jared L. Loughner and we might never know what caused him to do this. We don't know if Mr. Loughner acted alone or as part of some even more sinister plot. Many have been quick to assume blame but if there's one thing I've learned from my own journey, it's not to make assumptions.
Something that's being debated at great length is the role that rhetoric has played. The merits of this argument will be debated at great length for some time to come and to support various causes and ideologies. Some are saying that the tense rhetoric is to be blamed for this and others are saying that it isn't. I sense that this will be something on which an agreement will never be reached.
There is one thing that we agree on, though: Six are dead. Fourteen are wounded. A community, state, and nation is in shock.
In the meantime, isn't it wise to consider what we have to say? Take pause and consider: Is what we have to say something that will contribute positively to the greater dialog? By this, I don't mean that the thoughts and opinions have to be one way. But the conversation does have to be one way: civil and discursive. We don't need to vilify those with whom we disagree. We especially do not need to harm those with whom we disagree.
Our conversations have words. We know the power of words and the power of language. Words have meaning. Words cause action. Words cause people to speak in certain ways. Words make people do things. Words have lasting effects. All words–regardless of their part of speech–are verbs.
I have a sense that I could ramble on for a while on this topic. Thank goodness for Jon Stewart and his monologue on Monday. Watch:
|The Daily Show With Jon Stewart||Mon – Thurs 11p / 10c|
|Arizona Shootings Reaction|
Requiescat in pace, Christina Taylor Green, Dorothy Morris, John Roll, Phyllis Schneck, Dorwan Stoddard, and Gabriel Zimmerman.
We’re at that interesting time of year wherein we look back on the year that was and look forward to what the next year might have in store for us. What have we learned? Where do we go from here?
We're at that interesting time of year wherein we look back on the year that was and look forward to what the next year might have in store for us. What have we learned? Where do we go from here?
These are the big questions. So…what have we learned in 2010?
We've learned that change comes slow. Healthcare reform went through twists, turns, hurdles, and noise before something was passed and enacted. Don't Ask Don't Tell, despite widespread support for its repeal, took a long time to go away. And we've learned that there are groups that are trying to keep the status quo alive.
We've learned that Americans are very divided on how to treat others. We've seen controversy erupt over the Park51 Islamic community center in lower Manhattan and another in small-town Tennessee and how politicians in far-removed constituencies have made it a local issue. We're still divided on how to handle undocumented immigration and what to do with twelve million or so undocumented immigrants in this country already.
We've learned that there is a glimmer of hope for sanity in this country. Hundreds of thousands of people packed the National Mall in Washington DC to attend Jon Stewart's Rally to Restore Sanity (and/or Fear) and millions more took part in localized editions across the nation and around the world. Is that message sticking? Time will tell, but my signs are pointing to yes.
We've learned that downtown Phoenix just isn't ready to take off…yet. We've seen steps forward and backward with CityScape. Even with light rail access, parking spaces are still important to downtown Phoenix planners, as evident with the demolition of the Sahara/Ramada Inn for a parking lot (even with better alternatives) and an extension of a parking lot's life in the heart of the urban core.
But what else have we learned? Despite all the madness and craziness in the world, the human spirit is as alive and resilient as ever. We read that in Arizona, one of the hardest-hit states by the recession, one in three people volunteer their time to help others. We see — and meet — individuals who have overcome great personal struggle and return to be our friends and colleagues.
From here, where? Change is constant and we always meet new people. In 2011, and beyond, take time to talk to the people you meet. No, not over Facebook or text messages; talk to them in person over a cup of coffee. Learn about them. Have them learn about you. We each have our passions and skills and if the world is to be repaired, it starts with conversation between and among people.
~ ~ ~
Peace, joy, blessings, and cheer to you in 2011. I wish you all the best.
Today, the City of Phoenix Board of Adjustment signed off on the City's request for a parking lot on the former Sahara/Ramada Inn site, which was also the ASU Residential Commons for the first two years of the Downtown Phoenix campus's existence. Despite a wonderful presentation by Sean Sweat (@PhxDowntowner on Twitter) with sound science to his credit, the city put big corporate interests over those who live here.
While I'm irked at the City's underwhelming lack of creativity for its urban area, I'm not really surprised. Tweets from City officials, including the Mayor, put the nail in the coffin for anything but a parking lot at this site.
I'm working on a post that has my opinions on this issue. I think if I published it now, I'd be far too angry. (Even though I am.) But for now, here's how the meeting progressed. I live-tweeted (to my Twitter account, @edwardjensen) the developments for today's meeting.
Though I did have a couple observations. First, the meeting seemed rigged. The board recognized that most in the packed City Council Chambers supported a dog park. What wasn't recognized was that in supporting a dog park, we opposed a parking lot. The two are not mutually exclusive.
Second, the City's arguments had holes and gaps so big that a third grader could find them. The City maintained that a parking lot doesn't increase greenhouse gases, pollution, and traffic. While inherently that might be true, one has to understand the primary user of this parking lot: cars. It's the cars that emit greenhouse gases and pollution as well as increase traffic. In addition, it maintained that this parking lot would be sustainable because 7% of it would have landscaping. Oh boy…what about that other 93%?
Plus, as was noted in Mr. Sweat's presentation (and reminded to me in the comments to this post after the fact), parking lots are inherently bad for the environment. They are hotter than the surrounding area, increasing ozone and particulate matter to dangerous levels. Parking lots release ozone, which, despite being a good thing for the atmosphere hundreds of miles up, is harmful at ground level. 1,200 residents in Taylor Place in addition to all those who walk nearby will be affected.
As promised, the live-tweets are after the jump.
I think I need to offer a bit of clarification on my last post.
I love the discussion that's been started. Yet in reading through your comments, it seemed like I did a poor job at getting my intended point through.
Most everyone seemed to latch on to the idea that the post was merely to dish dirt on CityScape. Far from it. Though, in re-reading the post, I can see why people might think that. I sure talked a lot about CityScape!
When I thought through the post, my thought was this: Phoenix does some great things. Then it does some not-at-all great things. My love/hate relationship isn't because of CityScape. Far from it.
My love/hate relationship stems from the past decade or so that I've been living and learning in downtown Phoenix. I've seen tremendous strides in downtown Phoenix's renaissance. To their credit, the City has had a tremendous hand in that. That was the point about all the major infrastructure investments (ASU's campus, the Sheraton, the Civic Space Park, the additions to the Convention Center, light rail, etc.).
Yet intertwined with all these great advancements, there have been some silly things done that make me (and many) question the true intent of downtown development. Tearing down an easily re-usable hotel to make way for a parking lot? Subsidizing the construction of CityNorth? Allowing for a heat-sucking cement plaza at CityScape?
In these questions is contained our frustration. We know that the suburbs have for all too long defined the area. My friend David Bickford (you may know him as @exit2lef or @phxrailfood on Twitter) keeps lamenting that Scottsdale's boundaries in various publications keep creeping well into Phoenix. People tend to associate with their suburb instead of the metropolitan area. Or, if they live in Phoenix, it's never just "I live in Phoenix." There's usually a modifier in there: north Phoenix, south Phoenix, and so on.
Perhaps it's an inherent struggle for identity. We who live in downtown Phoenix want to be identified as urbanites who choose to live here. We want a diversity of local food options to complement the national chains. We want to walk places instead of hopping in our cars to go to the nearest Safeway at 7th St and McDowell. And for those who come to downtown Phoenix to work or to go to an event, they have completely different needs. They have a reason to come here and then leave. In my opinion, it seems like our civic leaders tend to cater to these people's needs more than those who live here continuously. (Seriously, however: what good is a boutique bowling alley with a strict dress code to us?)
As my friend and colleague Colleen mentioned on Facebook in response to the original post, we need energy downtown. I completely and unequivocally agree. That includes parks, stores, restaurants, and things to do. And yes, it has to be more than one teeny market, a few local coffee shops and long walks to the few nice restaurants that students and many can't really afford. During weekdays and whenever there is a game at U.S. Airways Center or Chase Field, that energy is sort of there. At other times, that energy is missing or secluded in many discrete locations.
That energy has to go from different points to be continuous over all of downtown. And I don't have all the answers. But let's get that dialog started.
There has been a lot of spirited debate over CityScape. A lot of it is definitely deserved since a public space was taken from us and replaced with a (suburban) shopping center. Local filmmakers Steve Weiss and Leslie Barton ask passers-by where the park is within the new CityScape in this two-minute video:
A lot of people will say that CityScape is an improvement over the former Patriots' Square Park (PSP) since that park was a sea of concrete frequented by homeless people. But PSP was a public space. CityScape is not. (Public funding does not make a space "public.") PSP had shade and grass. CityScape has concrete and more concrete. I remember walking through PSP one May morning with some classmates from my high school before a rehearsal at the Orpheum Theatre and we both found PSP quite charming.
So this is why I have a love/hate relationship with Phoenix. There are plenty of great people in the community who advocate for good change, sustainable change, and useful change. (This is the love part of the love/hate paradox.) We know what we want in a lively, urban core. We want a downtown that has a plethora of unique and locally owned shops. We want to promote walking, bicycling, and public transit use instead of always hopping into a car. We know what works because we have seen what doesn't work. And yet we never seem to give up.
But then there's a city government that just doesn't seem to get it. (This is the hate part.) The City of Phoenix have done some great things but then they do some absolutely bone-headed things that cancel out the good things. The new additions to the Phoenix Convention Center? Amazing. The Sheraton? Definitely needed. Light rail? Phenomenal. Creating an ASU campus in downtown Phoenix? Yes, please.
Then we see the silly and stupid things that they've done. Demolishing an easily-reusable former hotel/dormitory to make room for a parking lot? Approving and subsidizing City North (mock urban development in the suburban fringe)? CityScape (plopping a suburban mall over PSP)?
What makes me sick is that even with great people fighting to make downtown Phoenix a great place, our civic leaders either ignore or placate us. It's almost one step forward, two (or three) steps back. And I get sick of it. When I meet with these great people at things like Radiate or Get Your PHX, this sentiment is always shared by many. For Radiate, we (almost usually) meet at local establishments because we know the value that locally owned and locally operated places bring to a community. Then we have the City of Phoenix and RED Development work to bring in out-of-state corporations to CityScape: CVS Pharmacy (headquartered in Rhode Island), Five Guys (Virginia), Urban Outfitters (Pennsylvania), and Lucky Strike Lanes (California). Its design completely runs foul of walking. There is no love — no entrances (save for CVS's) — given to the adjacent sidewalks.
We want a livable downtown core. We don't want parking lots or poorly designed suburban shopping centers. Those of us who live in downtown (or midtown) Phoenix don't want to live in the suburbs. We actively chose to live in an urban environment. If we wanted a suburban shopping center with out-of-state chains, we'd just rather live in Peoria, Scottsdale, or Gilbert.
So that's my love/hate relationship with this city. There are great local advocates who tirelessly advocate for good, sustainable, and useful change. And then there are people who try to help but do more harm than good.