2019 #2: Jennifer Walshe: Spiel mit Identitäten

Jennifer Walshe: Spiel mit Identitäten by Franziska Kloos
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

If you read the interview with Walshe at the end of the book, you understand that Kloos' work is basically a philosophical expansion of that interview. She engages with primary sources, but the "name-dropping" of philosophers without citation was aggravating on occasion. The opening chapter is valuable in terms of framing the discussion--Kloos provides Erik Erikson, Stuart Hall, and Judith Butler as lenses through which we might understand identity. Chapter 2 wanders a bit more, investigating Walshe's place in the avant-garde and new music. She summarizes the biographies of the alter egos of Walshe's Grúpat and briefly muses upon the reconciling of these individual identities with group identity. There is some redundancy across chapters, but this is unsurprising as one of Kloos' main points is that Walshe's music doesn't fit traditional categories or modes of analysis.

Kloos gives Chapter 4 over to analysis--and this is where the book is weakest for me. Kloos has insightful observations, but her methodologies vary so greatly that some readings of pieces come up short. We don't know what to expect since there is no systematic approach to analysis. It may very well be that this is due to the content of the works themselves (as well as varied access to materials), but then I would have preferred that the analysis be integrated into the prose of the other chapters. Kloos' "listening journal" approach to Walshe's "As mo cheann" addresses the difference between listening with and without a score, but for readers who are looking to engage with the piece academically, this might prove frustrating. Still, in that Kloos includes gesture, breath sounds, and performativity in her discussions, she provides a good example of what solid analyses of contemporary music might look like.

I've always bemoaned the lack of discourse with the work of living composers--but I get it. It is much easier to use a critical eye (and ear) toward music when the composer is dead. Kloos posits, however, that Walshe's music authorizes listeners to be co-creators, in effect--a glimpse at a democratic idea that "those who listen, have a say" (107). In her final statements, Kloos remarks that Jennifer Walshe invalidates the biographical relationship between work and author, but it is her work with the alter egos of Grúpat that allow her to do so without metaphorically "killing" the author ( a la Barthes).

This is an important book and I would love to see it come out in an English translation. It is a good primer on the New Discipline and provides bibliographic value as well (Kloos curates a helpful list of Internet sources).

(Cross-posted at Musically Miscellaneous Mayhem)

2019 #1: Cookbook--Near and Far (Swanson)

Swanson's narrative is one of privilege, it is true. A lot of the reviews at Goodreads have mentioned this, with varying degrees of annoyance. The book, however, does not pretend. The minute you touch the embossed hard cover and look at the photos, you know that this is a chichi cookbook, not Betty Crocker's Cookbook or The Joy of Cooking. The subtitle does not lie: "Recipes Inspired by Home and Travel." And traveled she has: India, Japan, Morocco, France, and Italy. The photos of the destinations are sometimes so artsy as to feel contrived, but they anchor each section in its own ethos. I haven't yet made any of the recipes, but I am inspired. As a committed omnivore, vegetarian recipes rarely inspire me, but I find her approach to flavors intriguing.

If you are someone who likes hunting down interesting ingredients, you will likely enjoy this book. She isn't writing for someone who does not know anything about ethnic foods, so you will not find explanations and definitions for a lot of the ingredients. I think she could have done more in that regard, and it was a missed opportunity. Overall, however, this is a beautifully produced cookbook, with accessible-but-not-accommodating prose. I'm looking forward to digging in to the recipes.

Cross-posted to The Lady of Shallots

2018 #7: Dark Matter (Crouch)

Dark Matter by Blake Crouch
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

One of the joys of not being a scientist is that I can read a book like this without getting wrapped up in the reality of the science. Quantum physics as a field is something I can barely wrap my mind around, so I am not too concerned with plausibility when it comes to reading this kind of sci-fi. Besides, the take away here isn't really about the sci, or the fi, but instead the fact that we walk the earth as a million possibilities. We've all said "yes" or "no" at those forks in the road, and we live our lives, often in memory of the road not taken.

(Very mild abstract spoiler ahead....)

The narrative wore me down after a bit--I got tired of the multiverse, haha. However, just when I had no "ampules" left (that's about as much of a spoiler as I'll give), Crouch managed to reignite the story and illuminate his point. Sometimes we need to create a whole new world when our present one is too full of regrets and paths we did not choose.

2018 #6: A Discovery of Witches (Harkness)

A Discovery of Witches by Deborah Harkness
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I've never been a fan of vampires. Of all the occult/otherworldly creatures, those are typically the only ones that give me actual nightmares. But one of the true gifts of this book is that you tend to forget that the characters are witches, vampires, and daemons. Diana Bishop is a scholar (and a witch). Matthew Clairmont is a scientist (and a vampire). Harkness crafts each character with such care and attention that I could hardly put this book down. Anyone who has done archival work already knows of the innate magic to be found in touching pages of history, but this book should be particularly appealing to scholars who also enjoy fantasy fiction genres.

2018 #5: Sound and Score (deAssis/Brooks/Coessens, eds)

Sound & Score: Essays on Sound, Score and Notation by Paulo de Assis
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

As with any anthology of essays, a particular reader will find some contributions more useful than others. Admittedly there were essays that I skimmed, as I was looking for specific writings that would interact with discussions for my graphic notation seminar. I appreciate the multitude of perspectives and styles, although I found the essays that were well-grounded in theory to be more useful. Both Virginia Anderson's "The Beginning of Happiness: Approaching Scores in Graphic and Text Notation" as well as Jeremy Cox's "What I Say and What I Do: The Role of Composers' own performances of their scores..." were particularly enlightening in their examination of score/performance relationships. Cox adapts Krenek's 1966 theory of process of musical thought to reveal a composer's performances as a "triangulation tool" (p. 21) between the score and Gestalt/musical thought. The only real quarrel I have with his investigation of Stravinsky's tempi in two different recordings (1946 and 1961) of the Symphony in Three Movements is that it is predicated on an assumption of "logic" when it comes to tempo choices--an assumption that isn't clearly delineated by the author.

Anne Douglas's "Drawing and the Score" is one of the strongest essays as she offers a succinct summary of the relationships that can be established when "an artist transposes concepts of drawing and notation across the borders of art forms" (p. 207). In just under ten pages, Douglas convincingly concludes that the tension between musical score and drawing is essential to all stages of the musical work, and in effect "loops" the components of a performed musical work "between author/audience." (p. 215).

The editing is good, for the most part, although there is a significant error in the captioning of Fig. 4 of Cox's essay (p. 24) and certain essays could have used a stronger editorial hand in order to keep expositional consistency. The book's division into four parts seemed somewhat unnecessary, particularly given the holistic interpretation that underscores the entire book. That said, the parts (I: Score and Idea; II: Mapping the Interface; III: Extending the Boundaries; IV: Choreographies of Sound) do provide interesting inroads to the larger discussion.

This is a very worthwhile collection and has readings that are provocative and useful for a whole host of different types of research and teaching, especially in contemporary music. Some essays are more accessible than others, but it is a valuable compendium for anyone who teaches composition, contemporary music performance, and/or music history.

(cross-posted at Musical Miscellaneous Mayhem)

2018 #4: The Saturday Big Tent Wedding Party (A. McCall Smith) - No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency #12

The Saturday Big Tent Wedding Party by Alexander McCall Smith
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

For a while I felt like the No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency series had jumped the proverbial shark. So after a several year hiatus, I decided to pick it back up again. The The Saturday Big Tent Wedding Party seems to pick up the energy that was lost in the series, and keeps all the familiar joys: Grace Makutsi's relationship with her shoes, Mma Ramotswe's love for her little white van, etc. As he does in the earlier books in the series, Alexander McCall Smith manages to undergird his charming story with tougher questions about the secrets and assumptions that assail us every day. My only real criticism here is the title--the actual wedding itself is summed up in a couple of pages, so those hoping for an energetic description of Phuti and Grace's actual wedding will be disappointed.

2018 #3: Loon Lake (E.L. Doctorow)

Let me preface this with this: I LOVE E.L. Doctorow. Loved City of God. Loved Ragtime. Loved The Book of Daniel. So, ok...I didn't LOVE Homer & Langley, but at least I didn't finish the book thinking I had lost my facility to comprehend English.

I wish I could tell you I know what this book is about. There's a con-man/fugitive "protagonist" who is not at all likeable or even interestingly evil. There's a bizarre ladylove who dances in and out of self-respect every chapter or so. The most interesting character is a maid, who disappears from the narrative fairly early on. The depressed and eccentric poet holds promise, yet he also vanishes.

I get that this was an experiment. There are moments of that great Doctorow language that I treasure. But as a coherent book it fails. I totally understand that some people find this work a "stunning masterpiece" and "utterly compelling." Variety is definitely the spice of life, and I am probably the dry saltine of literature here, but this one really did not do it for me.