That was a fun weekend. A small UKMGPU in Oxford on Sunday, preceded by a brief visit to Jemfest UK on the Saturday afternoon.
Although it was good to catch up with some UKMG people and meet a couple of new ones, the main reason for attending the Jemfest was for the official launch of my fine friend Clive Murray’s debut album, Earthman. If you’re a fan of instrumental rock guitar, go to his website and buy the album!
Now, I don’t want to sound all snobbish and ‘above stairs’ here, but it takes a certain type of person to repair, install and adjust things around the house. Of course, you can bugger it up yourself, and that’s euphemistically called DIY (although the perfectly useable word “breaking” already exists in the dictionary). Sometimes, though, you need something done which involves potentially dangerous work with gas, electricity or plumbing, and you have to pay someone to come round and wield a spanner or two.
Not being crazed interior (re)design freaks, we don’t have to deal with this sort of thing very often, but in my limited experience of tradesmen and the skilled of hand, I’ve identified a certain character trait…
We had a new gas cooker delivered earlier this year, and had it fitted by the Currys engineers. With the hearty greeting “gotta new cooker foryer, mate”, they appeared one morning and proceeded to do their stuff. First of all, they had to check the pressure at the gas meter…
“You got a problem, mate… something wrong with the valve on your meter. If I can’t get the pressure gauge on it, we’re stuck”. Er… this is an inauspicious start. Surely this can’t be a real problem? But his face says otherwise… there’s that look of “bloody amateur – what are they using the model RT46b gas meter for, anyway? Everyone knows RT46c has lots of improvements”. So I try to do my version of that look, adjusting a couple of forehead muscles to add a hint of “Tchoh! Tell me about it, mate. You wouldn’t believe what the previous owners did to this place”. Unfortunately, I must just end up looking utterly mortified, because he then assures me that a firm tap with a hammer ought to loosen the valve.
So why did he even voice any doubt in the first place? This is the Tradesman Mind Game.
With the gas supply switched off, the assistant unhooks our old cooker and takes it out to the van. Our main man (let’s call him Terry… he looked like a Terry) then takes a look at the cooker-less gap and develops an even blacker look than before. “Your gas pipe’s in the wrong place”. Huh? It’s always done its job before, delivering gas to the cooker… “Nah, mate – it’s the law. Gotta be directly behind the cooker”. And then… I knew it was going to happen… he SUCKED IN THROUGH HIS TEETH. This is really bad. This is going to need special parts.
However, it seems that even special parts won’t rescue this situation… “can’t be done, mate – you better hang on to that old cooker for a while, coz I’m not allowed to fit this one”. I called his bluff… “Ah well, can’t be helped, eh? We’ll just get a full refund from Currys”. HA! I’m getting the hang of this. Tradesmen want to feel that they have a special ability, that they’re party to arcane knowledge. You just have to act like you don’t give a shit, and the illusion vanishes in a puff of smoke. “Nah, don’t worry, mate – we’ll put a flexible hose on there and you’ll be fine”.
So, again, why even raise the issue? This is the Tradesman Mind Game once again.
Cooker finally installed, Terry does a few cursory checks. “Course, you’ll never be able to use this thing properly”. Blimey, that one catches me completely unawares, and I flinch inwardly as he notices my shock with obvious delight. “There’s too much sediment in the pipes. You won’t be able to get a strong enough flow to run all four rings and the oven”.
Sediment. SEDIMENT?
This is obviously the Tradesman Mind Game yet again, but Terry never gets the chance to follow this particular train of thought. Testing the oven and grill, he realises there’s ACTUALLY SOMETHING WRONG. The burners won’t stay lit; as soon as you stop pressing the knob in, the gas supply cuts out. So how does he deal with this awkward little problem? Dismiss it with a quick fix? Nope… this is a real problem, so he deals with it in style, by scuttling out of the door as fast as he can, advising me to call Currys instantly.
Not surprisingly, I don’t. I call the manufacturers, who send a technician round. A technician with qualifications and quantifiable ability, who has no need to bolster his self-worth with bullshit. Who fixes the problem, without any fuss, in about 30 seconds.
As if the music/arts scene in this country wasn’t already buggered enough, the Government is making sure that future generations never experience Real Live Music.
It’s all to do with the PEL laws…
It’s Proms season at the moment, and I’ve been making the effort to get to the Albert Hall on several evenings. I mean, at 4 quid for a standing (or sprawling on the floor) ticket, you can’t complain, can you?
As well as going to hear pieces by composers I know I like (Stravinsky and Copland, f’rinstance) I’ve been trying to hear lots of different stuff. Even music I normally dislike can sound tickety boo in a live situation with a top-notch orchestra. Better still, I’ve made a couple of pleasant discoveries… Respighi’s ‘Pines of Rome’ in all it’s multicoloured wonderment, and the total and utter genius of Gustav Mahler. Why did I never try listening to Mahler before now?!
This is really bad. Admittedly, as a fan of A.C. Fiorentina and Italian football in general, I’m biased, but all football fans should be worried about what’s happening in Italy.
Having been relegated to Serie B at the end of last season, Fiorentina have now been refused entry to that division after failing to pay off an agreed portion of their enormous debts. Officially, the punishment would be having to start from the amateur league, but there’s hope that the Viola may just go down to Serie C1. Which is bad enough in itself – what hope is there of keeping players such as Chiesa, Mijatovic, di Livio and Nuno Gomes even in Serie B, never mind Serie C?
What’s more, this is indicative of Italian and European football as a whole. The business side of the sport is spiralling out of control, with all major football federations equally guilty. The only difference is that Italian clubs have been unlucky enough to be hit hardest. Sure, the wages and transfer fees are ridiculous, but that’s true of Spain and England, too. Our clubs fare better through greater financial caution, but that’s ultimately only to appease the money-grabbing shareholders.
Be very afraid…
Trying to write a review, listening to Radio 4 online, and I started musing…
Thanks to ADSL, I’m listening to radio on my Mac, so I no longer need a separate radio in this room. If you have a computer, you also have a CD player. However, I’m unlikely to get rid of my regular CD player, because, as a transcriber, I need accurate cue/review facilities, and I don’t want to have to use the mouse. So, if you’re a computer hardware engineer, how about inventing a USB remote control which drives a powerful CD player application, offering super-accurate cue/review and all the usual CD functions? Go on, please…
Well, after a good while of having long(ish) hair (albeit tied tightly back for the past few years) I’ve had it shorn. I much prefer it like this, a couple of centimetres long all over, and no longer annoying me in hot weather.
Somehow it was bound to be Brazil, seeing as the most robust alternative challengers went out in the quarter finals to, er… Brazil. If Beckham had been at peak fitness, who knows what might have happened. Don’t know about you, but despite what the TV pundits say, Brazil certainly *aren’t* my second team. Never been too keen on their style of play, but the Rivaldo thing really put me off. Shame to see Italy go out so early, although they fully deserved it.
Now, Wimbledon…
I love going to Italy. It has a great combination of modern European culture with cheaper prices than us northern European countries, along with more preserved art and history than anywhere else I’ve seen. Add to that the excellent food, wine and coffee in even the most bog standard cafés and you have a damn fine holiday.
(Oh, and did I mention that Ryanair were offering flights to Bergamo at £9 each way? That’s another good reason to go…)
Milan… almost
From Bergamo, we took the airport bus service to Milan’s magnificent 1930s railway station. It’s normally difficult to find a decent/cheap hotel in Milan, so we decided to stay in nearby Pavia, once the capital of the Lombardia region, and only a 30-minute train ride away. So far so good. We’d booked into the Hotel Plaza by email, and remembered to bring printouts of all relevant emails and suchlike… except for the address of the bloody place!
Luckily, though, there were plenty of road signs pointing to Pavia’s hotels. We found the one for the Plaza and walked in that direction. And walked. And walked. In the pouring rain. Seems the hotel listing website hadn’t mentioned that the Plaza was out in the suburb of San Martino Siccomario. Still, it turned out to be a nice (if not exactly cheap) hotel, and the 10-minute bus route made it easy to get to central Pavia.
We spent the rest of the day (first buying a cheap umbrella) exploring Pavia, which turns out to be a fascinating little university town, packed with Romanesque and Renaissance buildings. We then spent part of the next morning looking round the bits we’d missed the previous day, before heading for the big city…
Lacroix, darling!
If you didn’t know about Rome, you might assume that Milan was the capital of Italy. As a focal point in Italy’s finance and industry, it does seem to function very much like a capital city. It’s quite a gritty, functional place, as you’d expect, but like Paris, there’s plenty of fine architecture, not least the enormous cathedral (third largest in the world). It’s an expensive place by Italian standards, but that’s to be expected – there’s a lot of disposable income floating around, and plenty to spend it on.
We did the usual march round all the main sights (the castle, cathedral, La Scala, Galleria Vittorio Emanuele, Parco Sempione, churches) grabbing the occasional beer, coffee or focaccia on the way. Our bad timing meant we missed the all-too-short opening time for Leonardo’s ‘Last Supper’… well, we’ll just have to go back sometime. We also made a point of strolling down Via della Spiga and Via Montenapoleone, where all the high-fashion shops are. Always amusing to see what some people will pay over £2000 for… and then actually wear in public.
Then, another night back in Pavia before moving on to the second stage of our trip…
To the Renaissance… and beyond!
Day 3, and this was where the real reason for our trip began. Apart from the fact that Florence is probably my favourite city anywhere in the world (or at least from what I’ve seen of the world) I’m also a big fan of the local football team, AC Fiorentina. And my Xmas/birthday prezzie from g/f Nicola was a trip to see I Viola in action. But first…
Like seeing an old amico…
Arriving around lunchtime, we easily found the refreshingly cheap Hotel Bretagna on the riverbank, just behind the Santa Trinitá church and the Medici palaces, and a block or two from the Ponte Vecchio. We then spent the rest of the day wandering the streets to the tune of the usual “oohs” and “aahs”. If Florence doesn’t fill you with joy, you’re clinically dead.
We also made sure to visit a couple of things we’d missed (and in a city like Florence, there are plenty) during our visit in 1999, particularly the Pitti Palace with its Medici hoard of Renaissance art. More coffee, more wine, more fantastic (and stupidly cheap) food.
90 minutes from relegation…
The next day, after another brief wander around a few churches and so forth, we headed for the north-eastern suburbs, to the Artemio Franchi stadium. Frankly, our timing was pretty poor… Fiorentina’s worst season since 1993, only a mathematical hair-split away from relegation to Serie B. Still, it was good to be there, and despite the 1-0 defeat to Lazio, the Viola played with a surprising amount of spirit and flair. And look on the bright side – match tickets should be even cheaper next season…
Americans
We often criticise Americans with their gun-toting, warped world view, but just about all the Americans I’ve ever met (mostly in Europe but also in the US) have been wonderfully warm, generous and friendly people. So why do they have to ruin it all by being so embarrassing?
In a restaurant that evening, a large American group came in. One guy immediately started quizzing the maître d’ about the restaurant’s impressive wine list. It was a bit cringe-making (‘What ANNI is this from? What COSTA?’) but I was impressed – I think it’s important to drink local wines wherever possible. Then he thought for a while and said ‘Bring me a Shar-DOE-nay’. Doh!
Arrivederci
Last day… our flight wasn’t until 21:30 that evening, but we had a three-hour train journey back to Milan (did I mention how fantastic Italy’s rail network is?) so there wasn’t time for much more Florentine sightseeing. We did, however, find time to climb up to the top of Brunelleschi’s amazing dome at the cathedral – truly a work of Renaissance genius. Back in Milan, we had another few hours to kill, and explored the Parco Sempione (most of which was inexplicably being dug up) and the bohemian Brera neighbourhood, before getting the bus to Bergamo airport for the return flight.
Damn, I love that country…
This is about musical snobbery. I have nothing against people preferring “art” music over “popular” music, if that’s their sincere, subjective opinion. Everyone should explore the full range of musical expression and come to their own conclusion. What I object to is when some people decide that there’s a single Platonic “ideal” music, constant and beyond dispute. This extends to the instruments used; some orchestral musicians look down on rock musicians, and in my field, guitarists can be outrageously snobbish about electronic music.
Is a sampler a musical instrument? Is a synth or a sequencer a musical instrument? To be honest, I don’t know. I’d rather not even contemplate those questions, because I don’t think the potential answers would be particularly helpful. I mean, is a piano a musical instrument? Or is it just a large box containing a hammered dulcimer and a remote controller for playing that dulcimer?
[[And Segovia said the electric guitar was an "abomination". Tosser. Where would we be if we took *him* seriously? Genius of the classical guitar, but stick to what you know, eh Andres?]]
So, let’s ditch the word “instrument”. It’s too emotive. “Tool” is the word I prefer. You use a hammer to knock in a nail, and the better the hammer, the more chance you have of knocking in the nail effectively. Of course, your personal nailing ability has a lot to do with it; if you don’t practise, you’ll end up with crooked nails even using the best hammer in the shop.
If you just want to make music, you have a range of tools at your disposal. They all require a certain amount of ability – to play a guitar, you need to learn how to work this particular tool; if you decide that’s too difficult and opt for using a guitar-type sound on a synth, you’ll still need to be able to work that tool.
A sampler is another tool. On its own, it’s just a pile of circuits and a disk drive. Even with a lot of sounds stored in it, it’ll just sit there serenely, happily overheating whatever’s sitting above it in your rack (always leave 1 unit rack space above a sampler, kids…) It needs you to tell it what to do. By plugging a keyboard into the sampler, via a MIDI cable, you can press the keys and trigger the sounds. You’re making music.
So you might like to think of a piano as a kind of mechanical sampler. It has preset sounds stored in its memory (the finite vibrational possibilities of each string) and you trigger those sounds by pressing the keys.
Now, the matter becomes blurred when we think about how most people use a sampler. Rather than playing it “live” with a keyboard, we generally enlist the help of another tool – a sequencer. This triggers the notes from the sampler while we sit back with a cup of tea and listen to the results. However, the sequencer has to be told what to do; we have to program it. We can do this in a “live” way… setting the sequencer to record, then playing all the notes on the keyboard in real time. Or we can program it note by note, typing in MIDI commands or drawing graphics on a screen. Or you can work at yet another level of removal – download a MIDI file (which someone else has programmed) and feed that into your sampler.
Again, the question “Is a sampler/sequencer/synth a musical instrument?” and again, I’m going to evade it because I… a) don’t know; and b) don’t want to know. Another question, though, is “Are the sounds from a sequencer/sampler music? After all, they’re not played by real people”. My usual reply is that you should consider the great composers. All we have today is their scores – instructions for an orchestra to play the tunes. A row of MIDI commands is *exactly* the same thing. There is no “soul” or “feeling” in a musical score, no matter how many extra performance indications (to do with dynamics, tempo or whatever) you add. Those performance indications are meaningless until someone comes along and interprets them in relation to their range of musical parameters (how loud is “loud”, anyway?)
Now, this is all based on a best-case scenario. You’d need to enlist a pretty cool programmer to get as much dynamic, rhythmic and timbral range from a MIDI-driven synth (or rather, rack of synths) as from an orchestra. But it’s theoretically possible. Any musical parameter can be quantified. Whether it could be done in practice is another matter… in fact, it wouldn’t be worth it. If your music requires an orchestra, use an orchestra. However, there are times when a sampler driven by a sequencer would do a better job. There are other times when a Les Paul plugged into a Marshall would be the only solution.
And… more importantly for most of us who live in the real world… there are times when you just have to do the best you can with the tools you have at your disposal. I don’t have the facilities for recording/playing drums, so I use a sequencer, which drives a sampler containing drum sounds. You do the best you can, because the MUSIC is the most important thing.
And that’s the crux of my point. Whatever tools you use to create the music, it doesn’t make any difference. Whether you’re using a traditional instrument, or something that wouldn’t usually be considered an instrument, they’re only the means by which you make MUSIC. As long as the resulting MUSIC is as faithful to your idea as possible, that’s all that matters. Us guitarists might be concerned with what so-and-so was using, but normal people don’t care. They want the notes to sound “good”. Whatever “good” happens to mean to you.
