Les said, the better II

Confess

Celeste Hutchins
Mystic Voices
Foucault, Sexuality and Solitude
Foucault makes the point the identity is formed through repression. The self-examination of thoughts required for Christians to confess their sexual sins, including impure thoughts, lead people to develop strong senses of self and sexuality. During her trial, Joan of Arc frequently asked that the bishop hear her confession. However, peasants during her time did not confess frequently. It would have been normal for her to take communion only once or twice a year, thus necessitating few confessions.
Although the correct thing for her to do when she first had visions would be to seek the advice of her confessor, she did not. She heard mass with unusual frequency for a person of her class and took communion frequently enough that it was discussed at her trial. It’s difficult to guess how often she went to confession before she decided to “go into France.” We know she learned religion solely from her mother, so it may be unlikely that she confessed often.
Nevertheless, Joan of Arc seems to have a complicated gender identity, where she takes on male traits, while retaining female traits. Gender and sexuality are clearly linked. While we can see the technologies of the self that she uses to assume her chosen role, but how she got there remains mysterious. Perhaps her dialog with her visions was a recreation of her dialog with her confessor. When asked about jumping from the tower while in prison, she reports that she was doing penance for the sin of jumping, a penance assigned by her voices. Therefore, she does seem to have a confessional dialog with them, which may have facilitated her forming of gender identity.

Binary Oppositions

Celeste Hutchins
Mystic Voices
Cixous, Sorties
Cixous starts with binary oppositions, such as “Sun/Moon” to “Father/Mother.” She makes the point that binary oppositions are heirarchical and patriarchial. One side of an opposition is always ranked better than the other and that side is identified as male. The most tangible duality that humans see everyday is male/female, but for some this is not a binary opposition. Transgendered people may switch sides or may reject the idea of an opposition altogether. Their actions are met with hostility and sometimes violence. Transgendered people now are more likely to be victims of a hate crime than any other group.
When Joan of Arc was young, she started to have visions, which told her to dress as a man and take up arms. Freud wrote that, “One may observe that it is just those girls who in the years before puberty showed a boyish character and inclinations who tend to become hysterical at puberty.” In class, Professor Zieman remarked that at puberty, Joan of Arc became a boy. In this reading, Joan crossed sides of the binary opposition from female to male, and from weakness to strength.
I would like to argue that she did not cross the opposition, but rather straddled it. While she did start to dress as a man and take on a male role, she made no effort to hide her identity as a woman. She did not change her name. In fact, she chose a title for herself that was explictly female and feminine. “Pucelle” is a word like “maiden.” Furthermore, during her trial, she bragged that she excelled at all the womanly arts. One of the charges brought against her had to do with her telling a comrade that she would have three sons, one of whom would go on to become Pope. She did not transition fully to male, but held on to, and was proud of, her female-gendered activities and traits.

Just downloaded GIMP

Can’t decide whether or not I like it. And, for the benefit of wesleyan students and Amy, who ended up with a copy of Digital Performer by accident: A DP Tutorial. All images manipulated with GIMP.

East coast style, west coast girl

Look at this picture of a puddle. what do you notice? Nasty cigarette butts. Good start. Lots and lots of folks smoke here. what else? It’s frozen! That’s ice on top of it! I took this picture on my way home right now to illustrate that it’s still damn cold here. And the wind is blowing like crazy. brrrrr. this post is image heavy for the benefit of any left coast folks who wonder what my world looks like.
So Ron (see photo) noticed that I haven’t done any TA work since the start of the semester. This is because he didn’t tell me to do anything and I didn’t think to ask for a long time cuz I was distracted and then when I did think to ask, I was scared of what might happen. I must now photo document the procedures for using the electronic music studio (see photo) and how to use Digital Performer and write a suite of small SuperCollider applications useful for testing the setup. And I need to be able to explain to the class the algorythms for my tuning pieces with handouts on thursday. A bit of work. At least, on my pre-existing to-do list, I called the tax guy and arranged to file for an extension.
this next picture is the CFA = the Center for Fine Arts, where I spend all my time. this view is from the south and is most of the music buildings. The whole thing is in this cement block style architecture. some folks love it. some folks hate it. I kind of think it’s nifty, but the insides of classroom are a little weird, especially acoustics wise.
Lastly, here we have Charlie and Angela. Charlie is a composition MA and a mighty fine viola player. Angela is an ethnomusicologist MA and a mighty fine clarinet player. They’re good folks.

7 concerts in 6 days

was my week last week. tonight, there’s traditional Irish music, but i’m going to skip, since it’s not really my thing and while I saw a lot of great music, I got little work done. Yesterday, from whence the picture comes, was Anne Wellmer’s going away concert. She goes back to Europe today. It was 44 minutes of music, starting at 4:00 on 04/04/04. Lots of fourishness. Nice concert. I showed up late, so I don’t know why the fava beans are on the piano, but I did see some of them get blown off with a battery fan.

I don’t really have anything to say, I just wanted to document the kind of abuse that the piano in the student center is forced to endure. Last Tuesday, it had an encounter with wasabi peas instead of fava beans. And blocks stacked in it.
There was a little party after the concert to say goodbye to Anne W. and to wish Anne Rhodes a happy birthday. The concert goers were made up of the usual suspects. some of the people that come to every concert are not in the music department. We get undergrads from all disciplies and some science grad students. As things were winding down, some of these folks sat at the piano and in the style of Rythm and Blues, started a group piano piece. But these are fans of experimental music, so they were playing something 12 tone. Someone remarked, “I can’t tell if that’s a real piece or not.”

To do

• Call tax guy
• Clean floors beofre seder tommorrow
• Two one page papers
• Do reading for class. all of it. really.
• arg, everything that was on the todo list before is still on it!
• having a great time, wish you were here!

My Fabulous weekend

Ok, so around 11:00 Friday, Jess and I hitched a ride to New Haven and took the train into New York. We got off in Harlem and rode the bus to the Coloumbia University area, where Jess’ friend Yvette lives in student housing. She gave me lodging. We dropped our bags there and then all went for lunch. J & Y decided it would be faster to get a cab and would cost the same as the subway. Jess hailed a cab by standing in front of it as the light changed from red to green. One thing I thought I learned in Europe was to never step in front of a taxi, but she told me how to tell if the taxis have people in them. If the number is not lit up, then it’s full (and if you love life, don’t step in front of it), otherwise, you can hold them up at will. So we hopped in the cab and the driver drove like a maniac. I remained calm. If I were in another car, though, I would fear the irratic actions of the taxis. I think they create market for themselves by scaring other people off the streets. When you’re in NYC, it’s not uncommon to a street full of taxis, maybe one delivery vehicle and no private cars. But why would you need a private car when the subway is so good? Anyway, we were in a taxi headed for lunch when my life did not flash before my eyes. We got out and went to pseudo Japanese fusion food. It was pretty good, but east coast food is pricey. It was next to a chain store selling popcorn. the idea of starting a popcorn chain store is so ludicrous that it makes me think of capitalism as performance art. suddenly, there was a beautiful moment amidst all the turmoil and people could buy overprices bags of popcorn.

After we had food, we went to a coffee house, named the Mozart Cafe, which was covered with Mozart kitsch and only played his stuff and was full of conservatory wanna-bes. It’s odd to think an establishment could survive catering soley to dead music snobs, but there you go. I mean, KDFC (Your radio concert hall in the sf bya area) lives, but it has a wide broadcast range and this is just a cafe. We spent too long in both eating places and didn’t get to the Kitchen, but the galleries are free and will have their current exhibits up until school gets out, so I can go at a later date.
Jess and I went to times Square to see, or hear rather, an installation by Max Neuhaus. (I don’t know if I’m spelling his name right). So we walked up towards the bright lights. It’s better than Vegas, I think, although the one time I was in Vegas, I barely cruised the strip. what’s nice about Times Square is that you can cruise it on foot, whereas Vegas requires a car.
However, like Vegas, times Square is owned by the Disney-idied corps of the world. Disney store. MTV store. Planet Hollywood. chain thing. Chain thing. Chain thing. I got there a few years too late to see any real debauchery. We walked around a bit looking for, or rather listening for, the installation. Jess didn’t remember exactly where it was, just that it was unlabeled and under a grating by 42nd Street. We walked around and found the grating where all the tourists get their picture taken. Jess took my picture. My camera’s flash is such that it causes blinking more than half the time. We were walking around that pedestrian island, bent over double, trying to hear anything that sounded installation-y coming up from the grating. Such is New York that nobody even noticed us peering intently into the grate or wondered about us in the slightest. I heard later that it’s nice to go the installation in the summer, because you can lie right down on the grating and hear it. Again, presumably, with no notice from anyone. We wandered around the wrong grating for a while and then left and bought popcorn from a chain store and then came back and still coudl not hear anything, when Jess had a flash of insight and we crossed the street to the smaller pedestrian island and we stepped on to the grate and suddenly, like crossing into another world, we heard the installation. It’s based on the overtones series of bells. It was put in in the 70’s, so it’s not digital, whatever it is. and it sounded like a bell, so it’s not analog oscilators, since they would be way out of tune by now. It had a pipe-y sort of sound to it. Like white noise sent through several long pipes. The frequencies beat against each other like bells do. I could hear different beating patterns by moving around. things fell in and out of phase with each other. It was always the same and always changing. It’s a wonderful thing to have there in the midst of everything of Times Square. All the people and the traffic and the Andean Flute Band were all still making noise, but a wonderful new sound was added to it and somehow didn’t compete with the other sounds at all. Jess said, “Watch these other tourists. They’ll walk over it and not notice.” so we people-watched for a long time and nobody noticed. I wonder if I would have noticed if I hadn’t known about it. I know that I’ve been walking along sometimes and hear a resosnance and stop to listen to things, but Times Square is so full of sounds… The installation sounds intentional to me. The tuning is too interesting to be machinery noise, but apparently, that’s what people think they’re hearing. after a while, we went on. We stepped off the grating and into the street and the sound that had surrounded us faded to nothing within steps.
We hopped on the subway for a bit and then walked through Alphabet City, which is a neighborhood with some amusing grafitti, towards a club called Tonic. a band calleed the Jazz Travellers was playing. It was the Village Voice pick. We bought tickets to the 10:00 show and then went in search of food. All the restaurants were prohibitevely priced bobo (recall that bobo is slang for bourgeois bohemian) or sketchy pre-gentrified restaurants which Jess reistsed and which didn’t have much in the way of vegetarian fare anyway. We walked for a while, searching for food when we came upon a burrito shop offering a vegan burrito, so we went in. I noticed a tie dyed piece of fabric on the wall which had a picture of a street sign on Haight on it. Hrm. the menu said it was San Francisco Mission District-style mexican food. Be it ever so hunble, there’s no place like home. I couldn’t stop laughing that I went to a big city far away from home and ended up at a place imitating the big city at home. I think California oozes out of my pores. In true Mission district style, the burritos were good and cheap.
We went back to Tonic and heard the fantastic band. they played stuff that was either standards or standards-y, but then in the solo sections, they got pretty free-jazzy. the music was really good and really fun. And then, after a few songs, the band leader asked for a singer to come up from the audience. a woman pushed past me, saying “excuse me.” and got up on stage. It was Debbie Harry from Blondie. she sang for the rest of the set. Yes, she’s still hot. She was wearing an untecked tuxedo shirt, black thigh-length pants and leppoard-print boots. she is a fantastic singer and sung a bunch of jazz tunes with the band. The band had a xylephone player, a drummer, a standup bassist, a sax player, a trobonists and a violinist. At one point, the sax player was playing a tenor and soprano sax at the same time. He had both of them in this mouth and was playing the keys of one with one hand and the keys of the other with the other hand. And it sounded good. Good tone. Totally amazing. They played a bunch of jazz tunes and then did an encore of a Blondie tune and all marched out and then back in like they were the Archestra or something. It was awesome.
Then we went to one of NYC’s two lesbian bars, the Meow Mix. It was relatively empty. I had a beer and Jess had some girly mixed drink. She was tired, so we didn’t stay very long. It’s a tiny tiny club, with a stage. A band was packing up to leave. I imagine it emptied when the band finished, but I don’t know. We caught a cab back to Yvette’s place. Tried to sleep in strange bed. Woke up very early and then had sleeping-in like disturbing dreams. Got out of bed when Jess was hitting the buzzer to get back into the building in the morning. Our plan was to have brunch and then head back to New Haven, where we could get a ride no later than 3:00. Best laid plans of mice and men…. J & Y & I walked towards the brunch place, dawdled at burnch, and walked back. New York looks very European in parts, but it is self-consciously so. We went to Coloumbia to get computer access to check train schedules. The train we needed was leaving in 15 minutes, so we took a much later train and took the bus back to Middletown. Since there was nothing to be done, we went to visit John McGuire, the Coloumbia professor who addressed Alvin’s class last week. Jess knows him from her Ivy League days. He’s a really cool guy. We talked in his office for a while, where he was working on Saturday and then walked to a tremedously pretentious coffee shop., where we met a real artist, whose name I don’t remember. He’s a woodchooper, a manly man, like Hemmingway, he explained. I went to the bathroom and people had scrawled poltically appropriate Shakespeare quotes. Jess was trying to explain how the coffee shop was emblematic of the neighborhood. I said “yeah. We’ve got nothing like this in Berkeley.” The coffee, though, was dismally bad. the place was packed. It would never have survived in Berkeley. after more dawdling, which was delightful, despite the coffee, we walked around to a Radio Shack, where I bought a bigger memory stick for my camera and then went to the cathedral of St John the Divine, which is the largest cathedral in the Americas. It took me a while to figure out that it wasn’t catholic. It was Episcopal. they’re a lot like catholics, but without the desire to return to the 14th century. But no prayers to Mary. I would miss rosaries and Haily Marys if I were going to catholic-like church. The church wants to look centuries old, but it’s not even finished yet. Part of it burned down a year or two ago. More attempt to self-consciously ape Europe. Catherdrals, in my opnion, should be timesless but also timely. Like the Gaudi Cathedral in Spain. It’s not trying to look like it was build in 1509. Nevertheless, St. John was very nice. I love the resonances of huge cathedrals, and this had it in abundance. Also, a lovely looking pipe organ. I want to hear it played. It’s huge. Pipes around the choir area but also trumpet-like pipes in the very back of the church. Pipe organs were invented by Ancient Romans, by the way. It’s surprising how old some ideas are.
Jess and I then headed to Grand Central station. It’s large and impressive. We got on our train to New Haven, and sat next to a nifty geek named Jen, who goes to 2600 parties in the city. I showed her supercollider stuff. I want to check out these parties. I miss being surrounded by geeks. They’re my people. Jen was talking about an Electric Kool Aid Acid Test-like novel for our generation and how it might be tied to blogging. She’s on to something. For long time, I’ve been day dreaming about writing a novel made up on instant messenger conversations. This is actually part of the reason that spies on my Moos keep logs: so I can analyze the conversation to see how to mimic them, either for AI applications or for art. Maybe we’re all writing the great American work of our generation right now as a blogging work in progress.
Jess finally gave me the CD with me singing on it. It was just the “is this thing on” part of recording something else. but Jess spent all day friday singing my own songs back to me. Apparently, she’s been playing it to other folks. I think this is silly.
Got back to Middletown at 8:20. Ran to tim’s senior thesis concert and caught the last 20 minutes of it. Nice, droney, angsty music. angsty music touches a deep and resonant chord within me. But the fun jazz band did too, so maybe just good music touches a deep and resonant chord. Most happy music is banal and stupid, alas, so that might create an illusion of favoring angsty music. anyway, Tim’s thesis touched a deep and resonan tchord within me. It was nice. Went to the after party at tim’s house and drank Pabst blue ribbons. I am no longer a beer snob. Got kind of buzzed and then went to see an undergrad blues band play at a bar in town. I was surrounded by very drunk undergrads, a huge number of which were music students. fortunatately, despite drinking 2.5 beers, I sobered up enough by the time the bar closed to stay out of trouble. Undergrads: oh so cute and oh so young.
The grad stipend just got increased by 4% (woot), but music grads are paid half what science grads are. And the music stipend is below the federal poverty line. Some music students are having a lot of trouble because of this. So there has been much traffic on the grad email list about this. Talk of unionization has come up. but some math student was complaining, saying that he might get more money, but he had to lie and say he was a music student to impress women. Grad students complainign about lack of money and lack of sex. How classic is that? If you try going to a woman from connecticut and explain that you study experimental music, she goes looking for a math student. But with undergrads, he is so right. I tell undergrad chicks that I’m a music grad student and they look really impressed. they flirt with me, but then they run away. Which is good. I gave up drama for Lent. I’m thinking of giving it up forever.

I’m back.

Going to NYC

as a part of my plan to see five concerts in five days, I’m going to NYC tommorrow (whoah, actually today) and returning the next day. Two nights ago, I saw weird electronic music made with tweaked guitar pedals. Last night, I saw undergrads do a Fluxus concert. Tonight I saw a bunch of popish bands play at a club/house called Ecclectic. It was fun. I was unable to incite a mosh pit, however. Tommorrow night, something in NYC + checking out the gallery at the Kitchen and an installation in Times Square. Sunday, undergrad Tim Eastman’s thesis concert. My camera finally came, so pictures will be forthcoming.

After going through all my papers and not finding my w2 form, but stumbling on several wedding cards (arrrg), I went off to do some Deep Listening meditation. It was quite nice. I felt much calmer afterwards. and Buddhist House, the location we met at, is conviently located right next to a Dunkin Donuts. I’d never been in one before. They don’t actually have very many donuts. I was surprised.

Checklist

Yes, you feel gloomy today. (ok, maybe you don’t but pretend you do for a minute.) It’s a gloomy day. Maybe a day to go back to bed or to be grump or to cry or to yell at the dog. Let’s say. But first, let’s check a few things: When was the last time, dear one, that you ate anything? Have you had all the meals you should have by this time of day? Would a snack possibly be a good thing? When was the last time you ate anything with protien in it? When was the last time you ate a green vegetable? How long has it been since broccoli crossed your lips? When was the last time you injested a vitamin sort of thing of any kind? What about those omega-3s? Hrm? Been eating right?

Ok, so after a nice snack of broccoli, tofu and brown rice with hemp oil drizzled over it, still feeling blue? Well, what about sleeping? too little? too much? yo-yo-ing between too little and too much? Four hour nights followed by 12 hour nights is a bit bumpy. And what times have you been sleeping? 3:00 am – 11:00 am is eight hours, but it’s kind of weird hours. and you miss the morning sunshine, provided there exists some. Daylight waking is good for you. And when I sleep in the late morning, it’s not good, solid sleep. it’s more like napping. or what if you’re going to sleep, waking at a normal time and then turning off your alarm and sleeping until the afternoon? Oh, it’s thursday. no class! i’ll just nod off for a minute. oh my god, it’s 2:00! Not good. Maybe schedule things in the morning?
Ok, eating right, sleeping right, still grumpy? Maybe you should leave the house! When is the last tiem you had a social encounter with another human? Invite somebody to have dinner with you (at least you know you’ll be awake by then).
And when I say “you,” I of course, mean “me.”
I had dinner with Angela last night. She does not read my blog. I was kind of grumpy at the begining of the evening. Spent a lot of yesterday afternoon on taxes. Going through financial paperwork looking for tax stuff is stressful. And I can’t find some of it! But what’s the worst that could happen? I would have to file an extension. Thinking Wtwtch is very helpful. Ok, so I was still stressed and just got out of many hours of class and sleeping oddly. And I said, “I’m thinking about getting on porzac.” And she said, “wait until a sunny day to make that descision.” ok, so i’m obviously solar powered. But then I had tofu with mixed vegeatbles and some ice cream and felt happier, so there’s something to consider there. figure out what makes me happy and do a bit of it every day.
I’ve been thinking about priorities lately, because my number one priority has sort of left my life, so what’s important now? And I’ve been putting school/career first, even though that doesn’t seem quite right. Shouldn’t people come before career? But if that’s true, what the heck am I doing in Connecticut so far away from my people? And so I think having a heirarchial list might be the wrong way to go about it. Follow my goals, but do a bit of what makes me happy every day. If it’s so stupidly obvious, why did I have to go through the trouble of figuring it out? Everything is so blindingly obvious once I blog it.

I am ready for winter to be over

Yes, I am technically experiencing what New Englanders describe as “spring,” but to my Bay Area self, this is winter. fall was winter and winter was winter on steroids. It is still bleak out. Yesterday, there were snow flurries as I walked to class. Today, it’s rainging and cold. I guess I should feel happy that it’s not freezing rain. I’m going to go back to wearing thermal underwear, since the warmth of last week was clearly a fluke.

the trees are still baren. Only the grass and the evergreens are green. Everything is brown and dead. No flowers bloom. Few birds sing. A few trees are thinking about waking up, but there are almost no visible buds. It’s a replaying of the desolation of fall, but in reverse. And it’s still desolate.
Let’s emphasize some words: bleak, barren, desolate, cold.
And it is now quite clear that the weather and my mood are strongly linked (one is like a barometer for the other… ha ha ha). Is this like a normal thing?
To do:

• find tax paper work and mail it to tax guy. (deadline ASAP)… ack i lost my w2 form…
• modify symphony movement to fit requirements for American Composers Forum content, print it, put it in the mail. (postmark deadline tomorrow)
• write short paper about Joan of Arc, binary oppositions and the male gaze (due next wednesday).
• Write one other short paper of undecided topic (also due wednesday).
• Ask advisor for resume advice, figure out where to send resume, send it off (asap).
• do paperwork for out of department course (should have done this weeks ago)
• installation idea for first weekend of may symposium (due?)

And all I want to work on is the ultimate pop song generator…. by which i mean, it’s an idea that i can’t escape. i thinking baout how to do drum patters for Urban Hipster, and I end up thinking about the logics behind the creation of drum patterns and how you might be able to tell a computer to modify a pattern based on song intensity levels or to develop it’s own patterns or what the rules are for drum patterns in different genres and how to represent those grammers…. i’m going to go write a giant drum object thingee while sitting on the radiator and ignoring my giant box of paperwork which contains tax stuff and my readers and umm… not the symphony deadline, cuz i already wrote the dern thing….

update

Ok, I’m not sending in the score. Why? Well, apparently I need a letter of reference and it’s way too late to ask. (curses for not paying attention to this earlier) and also, it’s a week long program in October of next year, not just a reading. On the one hand: awesome. On the other hand: I’ve already got a music program that i’ll be attending on October. Anyway, the Wesleyan Orchestra will be reading it in April, so it will still get a performance. And then I can modify it based on hearing it, which will make it better if I decide to submit it to a contest later. And mostly, I’m flaky for not paying attention to the requirements until the day before it’s due…. But I’ve sent tapes and scores and whatnot to a bunch of these contests and so far all I’ve gotten out of it is the joy of helping support the US Postal Service.