See the Music Page for
more information about
my choral compositions.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
They're Made Out of Meat: The Commercial
My good friend Tony C. Smith of the StarShipSofa podcast
has very kindly agreed to run a commercial for my science fiction jazz chamber
opera, They're Made Out of Meat. You, my faithful readership (Hi, Aunt
Virginia!) are about to be rewarded with a Christmas gift. Among the privileges
of membership here are an early hearing of the audio I prepared for Tony. That's
right, folks: you get to listen to a commercial ahead of everyone else!
I'm pleased to present this excerpt from my latest premiere: The
Moon That Dreamed of Earth, performed by the Vocal Arts Ensemble of Ann
Arbor, directed by Ben Cohen. This piece sets a poem which I wrote based
on my short story of the same name:
Patiently unwind the slender
tendril binding you to me.
Drift away but cast a backwards glance until the sun grows cold. [. . .]
Thanks to Ben and the musicians of VAE for this fine and enthusiastic
rendition. The performance was in March, 2009. Enjoy.
(You'll notice I've also added this sound clip to my music player above.)
We got word from the Ann Arbor Boychoir that our son, Der Drübermensch,
would be needed for a special recording session on a Sunday afternoon. The
choir had been hired by John Higbie, a veteran visual effects specialist from Hollywood.
John recently moved to Michigan and is wrapping up post-production of his first
directorial effort, a science fiction movie called
Magic Mentah(previously called Amsteroid).
He wanted the boys voices to add Ligetiesque spookiness to some of the space scenes.
Science fiction and choirs?
In my own backyard? Of course I wanted to find out more. I attended
the recording session and met John, an incredibly sane, likeable person (i.e., not
what you expect in a movie director). John's movie has been in post for some
time now and he hopes to release it in 2009. He'll work the festivals and
he expects the movie to be available on DVD. (When that happens, I'll let
you know.)
I asked him why he chose science fiction as a subject. He told me his experience
in visual effects can be best put to use in that genre. Since the movie's
plot involves dead Egyptian gods as well as spaceships, I suppose a more precise
categorization would be science fantasy.
The still you see here shows an asteroid in the shape of a human figure; that's
one of the gods. To the right is a transparent green brain. In the clip
John showed me, the brain rotates and approaches the camera, until you are close
enough to see a live actor inside. John has done an excellent job marrying
the CG and live-action coordinate systems here; the two are linked seamlessly.
Clearly, the guy is a pro.
The big green brain is accompanied by the boy's voices:
If you had heard the original, you'd be especially impressed by John's mixing and
filtering of the sound tracks.
John will be in Ann Arbor this Thursday for some filming. If all goes well,
I'll be interviewing him for the Starship Sofa podcast. I've already discussed
Magic Mentah on an earlier episode (Round
Table No. 6; scroll down).
I'm terribly excited to see this kind of production happen in Michigan. Magic
Mentah is just the latest example of movies with modest budgets having
a fighting chance at commercial success. It reminds me of
Primer,
another SF film made on a budget of a few thousand dollars.
(Although, Primer did not have any visual effects that I remember.)
Definitely see Primer if you don't mind extremely obscure SF-al concepts
bandied about with minimal explanation.
I'll be reporting again on Magic Mentah. Watch this space.
Something big is coming to the Fredösphere soon, something at that
magical place where science fiction and choral music intersect. Keep watching this space.
I see my evil plans to utterly warp my children's minds with piano lessons will bear--probably already have borne--fruit:
[I]f you look at a brain, either in life with an MRI, or later, you can't tell whether it's the brain of a genius or a fool, or whether it's the brain of a visual artist or a literary artist, but you can look at a brain and say, "that's probably the brain of a musician"--because musical training and involvement in music enlarges various parts of the brain: the corpus callosum (the great band which goes between the two cerebral hemispheres); parts of the auditory cortex; parts of the cerebellum; parts of the frontal lobe cortex. There are striking changes which can occur within a single year of musical training, and these are changes which are really visible to the naked eye, at least if one knows where to look. So the power of music to alter the brain is very, very striking.
Oliver Sacks, interviewed by Terry Gross. Hat tip to A Cappella News. There's lots more where that came from; Sacks is the The Man Who Mistook
His Wife for a Hat guy, and he takes us into that territory again.
Many people have commented on Stanley Kubrick's brilliant choice of
music for 2001: A Space Odyssey. By using classical
standards, Kubrick maintained more personal control over his movie.
These pieces--Zarathustra, Lux Aeterna and the Strauss
waltz and all the rest--were originally placeholders, music Kubrick
inserted into early drafts of the film while he was waiting for the
commissioned score by Alex North to be written. (In a shameful
episode, North did not find out his music was axed until he saw the
film just before its release. North's score was eventually released as
an album.)
Here's a take on the film that's new to me: 2001 as a kind of visual music
in three movements. Experts discuss the film, its music, its musical
nature, and what the heck the ending is supposed to mean, anyway.
(Short answer: anything you like.)
Frankly, if you're going to email me asking for my help and you can't
even be bothered to do me the courtesy of placing
your apostrophes correctly, don't expect me to call 911 for you.
Here are two excellent a cappella groups to sample. First, via A Capella News, it's
Naturally 7:
My hoary custom of playing Bach's St. Matthew Passion every
Good Friday has gradually given way to Golijov's La Pasion Segun
San Marco. I switched because I figured the hot Latin rhythms
would be more compelling to my kids ears (plus, they have enough
Spanish that they can translate most of it). What I didn't anticipate
is the way the music sets their feet a-dancing. We compromise, and I
make them wait a decent interval, then let them cut loose. Watching
them dance to the Death of God is disconcerting, but their urges are
innocent and I think it would be wrong to suppress them completely.
No Halloween is complete until you've taken three minutes to listen to The
Superstitious Ghost. Use the mp3 player above, or the one below, or use this link.
Listen, especially if your name is Brett Luginbill. (Brett is a young
conductor I just had the privilege to meet today. He wants to start a
classical music concert series at the University Lutheran Chapel, and,
as Homer Simpson would say, I wanna let him!)
Enjoy the fine
performance by my friends Lorna Young Hildebrandt, Kara Alfano, Karl
Schmidt, Paul Max Tipton, and on piano, Tom Strode. Then go see
the extreme pumpkins. (Hat tip to Transterrestrial Musings.)
I'm pleased to announce my music can now be heard thanks to the shiny new XSPF player I have added to this site, which you no doubt noticed above. Select one of the tunes, then work the start/stop/pause controls to your heart's content.
At the same time, I am unveiling the recording of Poor Richard's Almanac, premiered by the Vocal Arts Ensemble of Ann Arbor, directed by Ben Cohen. They did an excellent job performing the piece, and I am grateful to them for comissioning it. I hope you enjoy it.
My friend Alan reports The sixteen have cut a new album of early music with guitarist Kaori Muraji. You can here excerpts on the MPR broadcast. Oddly, this time director Harry Christophers leads an ensemble with... sixteen singers, not the eighteen you would expect.
My friend Alan sent me a link to a Saint
Paul Sunday show in which Harry Christophers leads The Sixteen (all
eighteen of them) in a concert and discussion of Renaissance and
Baroque music. Any concert that leads off with the Lotti Crucifixus
a 8 and the Tallis If Ye Love Me can't be bad, but the
singing of the Sixteen is so close to perfection, I felt I needed to
pass the link on to you.
The interview portions of the show are conducted in a semi-whisper
which is both amusing and compelling, as if the music and the church
setting placed a holy awe upon those involved. It reminds me of my
college choir director's over-the-top reverence for the Lotti Crucifixus,
which was so extreme he seemed afraid ever to let us perform it in
public, although we rehearsed it every year. A sad case, really, yet
one that made a lasting impression on me. Listening to that piece in a
casual way is impossible for me now.
I'm pleased to present this excerpt from my latest premiere: The
Moon That Dreamed of Earth, performed by the Vocal Arts Ensemble of Ann
Arbor, directed by Ben Cohen. This piece sets a poem which I wrote based
on my short story of the same name:
I asked him why he chose science fiction as a subject. He told me his experience
in visual effects can be best put to use in that genre. Since the movie's
plot involves dead Egyptian gods as well as spaceships, I suppose a more precise
categorization would be science fantasy.
Umie the Umlaut says, "ask your doctor about the Fredösphere!"
