Roger Bourland
writes about music and life

Innovative “Homer in Cyberspace” breathes new life into ancient heroes
by David Chute

Getting Aphrodite Off the Ground

In the surreal virtual universe of Mel Shapiro’s “Homer in Cyberspace,” the gods of ancient Greece have been deposed, “shrink-wrapped and imprisoned” by a new race of digital/electronic deities known as the iGods.

Struggling to return home to his loyal wife Penelope, the wily war hero Odysseus (”O” for short) has been condemned to wander aimlessly for years, his punishment for blinding the one-eyed bully Sy, the iGod son of La Belle and Bernie Klops.

Obviously, the epic poet of ancient Greece has been put through a few changes on his way to UCLA’s Macgowan Hall Little Theater, where radically modernized simulacra of Odysseus, Penelope and Telemachus will make their singing and dancing debuts.

“Homer in Cyberspace” will be presented at 8 p.m. on May 29, 30 and 31 and on June 4, 5, 6 and 7, with additional 2 p.m. performances on May 31 and June 7. Ticket and parking information can be obtained by calling UCLA’s Central Ticket Office at (310) 825-2101 or visiting www.tickets.ucla.edu.

[From UCLA TODAY, 5/15/2008, read the entire story here.]

And now for something completely different. I love how, in the first transition, he slaps the lower manual to emulate a drum. He keeps WATCHING me through the whole piece, feels almost creepy.

I wonder what the history of performers playing 2 keyboards at the same time is? People around in the 1970s remember Keith Emerson playing an entire stage of keyboards. Here Korla Pandit amazes us with his multi-keyboard virtuosity and exotic scales and sounds.

On Sunday, Daniel invited his uncle and aunt, Tita [aunt] Eden and her husband Nelson, their sons and daughters and their children to our house for the afternoon. We had a dozen kids under the age of 13 here and I have to say they were the best behaved children I’ve seen in years When Eden spoke, the child would stop in their tracks and mind their grandmother. No talk back, no sass, no disrespect.

They are also very devout Catholics. I gave them all extra bonus points for not giving us that “I’ll be nice to you pervs, but you know you are going to hell” look. When they all left, Daniel gave them all hugs, and I gave them all adult hand shakes.

At the end of the party, even though I was as exhausted as our dogs who had been overworked by the three and four-year olds, I decided to sing them some songs from HOMER. The kids who were downstairs watching TRANSFORMERS, paused it and came up to listen. I was thrilled to see that they all were with me with every song, from age three to seventy-something.

This part of our extended family has always been nice to me, but I don’t think they knew who I was or what I did until Sunday. I felt that Daniel and I had risen in status in their eyes after I stopped singing. Those of us in big cities forget that acceptance of gays and lesbians still is not universal, by any stretch. So every little victory is worthy of celebration.
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I checked in with my mother yesterday who is supercharged after moving into their new home last month. My dad was off at the clinic dealing with a malady that I had to deal with last year. Sigh, aren’t genetics fun?

This just in from Prof Waterman. Get down, but not too much.

In 1976, America was all excited about being 200 years old and many of its major orchestras participated in consortium commissioned works. One of those works that I loved was called “Final Alice” by David Del Tredici. In fact it wasn’t only I that loved the work, the piece got standing ovations no matter where it was performed by large orchestras across the US. It was that catchy, tonal hook (the major 6th) that we couldn’t get out of our head.

I’ll never forget when he came to NEC and played that obsessive part of the piece on the piano for us. We were hooked. Or at least I was.

“Final Alice” appeared several years after George Crumb’s “Ancient Voices of Children” and George Rochberg’s Third String Quartet, and eight years after Terry Riley’s “In C” and Steve Reich’s “Come out” so I don’t see this as a trail blazing work in terms of the return of tonality. Tonality seemed to be returning anyway. The day of the Darmstadt power was coming to an end. At least for me it was. Even Leonard Slatkin agreed:

“Final Alice changed the face of music in this country overnight,” recalls Leonard Slatkin, the National Symphony Orchestra’s music director, who was in the Chicago audience that night. “It destroyed all conceptions of what ‘new music’ was supposed to be, and many composers will tell you that they were now liberated to write how they felt. It was the start of a revolution.”

What was odd to me was that after the LP of “Final Alice” disappeared, it never got released on CD, so a whole generation of post-death-of-the-LP composers and music lovers, never got to hear the piece. Too bad. Even now, I can’t find anything except for a bit torrent download of the piece. anywhere (I’ll try to rip part of the LP so you can hear it. If anyone knows whether this has been released, let me know.)

Why the neglect of such a terrific AND popular piece? Is David too gay? Too tonal? The musical figures too obsessive? Too catchy? I’m always baffled that Ades, or Carter, or Birtwhistle can get anything recorded, but a piece that changed our world, even if only for a few years — why has no one released it? I guess it will just have to be a mystery.

Three cheers to Mr Slatkin who brought back the work again to bring it to Washington D.C. last weekend. Stephen Brooks wrote a terrific article letting everyone know.

David Del Tredici

you go girl

Yesterday Daniel and I got to see the first complete run-through of HOMER IN CYBERSPACE. I think we may have a hit on our hands. The pacing is excellent, the story is sexy, compelling and entertaining, everyone will like the music, the actors are terrific and everything will only get better as we still have 3 weeks to go.

You WILL cry at the end, so just be ready. Tickets WILL sell out.

UCLA’s Little Theater, Macgowan Hall
May 29th, 30th, 31st, June 4th, 5th, 6th, 7th @ 8:00 pm May 31st, June 7th @ 2:00 pm

$17 general admission, $15 seniors/faculty/staff/alumni
$7 students, group rates available
For tickets: 310.825.2101
or www.tickets.ucla.edu
Parking available at Structure 3 ($8)

Portable Concerto for viola and electronics was written through and NEA commission. Three composers (me, Gary Philo, and Wm Thomas McKinley) wrote pieces for three violists (Walter Trampler, Marcus Thompson, and James Dunham) who each were to play the all the pieces in different cities. It was Paul Reale who convinced me to not “write another piece for the viola graveyard” and to use synthesizers to back up the violist. Here I tap into my rock influences, and at this time I especially loved Pat Metheny and Lyle Mays music.. Here, Marcus Thompson plays on a Composers in Red Sneakers concert.

PORTABLE CONCERTO FOR VIOLA AND ELECTRONICS (1989)
by Roger Bourland
1. Desert Driving
2. Recent Dream and aria
3. Ride my car
Marcus Thompson, viola
Recorded by Christopher Stowens

[Violin shadow, photo © Roger Bourland]

I lived with my family in Albuquerque, New Mexico from 1960 to 1963. One of the memories I have of that time is the SMELL of spring. Spring in the desert. And later, when I lived in Wisconsin or Boston, every spring I would smell the western desert calling me back.

[I take the bus these days. Sick of paying so much at the tank, and you see a lot of stuff you don’t otherwise see. It seems a good source of blog stories, so here.]

On the way home today, the back of the bus was dominated by 5 boys, probably 14 to 15 years old. I didn’t ask for this, I had had a tough day and wanted to just nod off. But NOOOO. They dudes have to be loud and obnoxious. There was a girl with them — a strong girl — good thing, and the boys were shouting about her vagina to the whole bus. She played along and it bounced right off her. These all looked like kids of wealthy parents. They were very loud and bellicose most of the people didn’t want to sit next to them. I did.

The first dude that got out in Beverly Hills had to prove he was cool — his parents being the richest, so he pulled the window open from outside in cooperation with the long haired blonde boy inside. The bus driver was pissed and came back and cussed out the blonde boy. After the bus started going again, they had to prove they were still cool. The big latino boy encouraged blonde boy to listen to some music on his iPod,. He did. As he listened, the latino boy said “You’re gay!” to which the blonde boy bounced up and down in time to the music, but interpreted by his friends as “Yes I am.” They kept calling him gay, and he kept bouncing up and down to the music. They made him take his ear plugs out and explained what they were saying. He laughed, thought it was funny but was not upset. The taunters, the greco boy and the latino boy looked like FFA to me, er, future fags of America. One by one the boys got off at their separate stop and they became less and less powerful. The blonde boy got off at my stop and went south. His parents were probably lived in West Hollywood. Hmm.. Maybe they are lesbians, or gays?

I remember sitting at the lunch table as a senior in high school and a friend said to me, in front of everyone “You’re gay.” It was so shocking, I of course denied it, barely knowing what it was myself. They were right, and I was the last to know. The little scene on the bus brought all that up again. Teens can be so cruel to each other, but they are also so fragile.

I kept thinking during the ride, ‘I should tell those boys there is nothing wrong with being gay, and who the hell are you to be so crude to this girl in public.’ But no, I was the unwise observer of mankind, no energy to try to change these fragile youths.

Kids these days!

The doorbell rang this morning. I wasn’t expecting anyone so I peaked through the side window and saw a creature that resembled Cousin It in the Addams Family. My heart thumped not being sure what it was. I went to the door, opened it and I’ll be damned if it wasn’t the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi — you know, the guru that the Beatles, and Rolling Stones, and the Beach Boys, and Mia Farrow and all those people went to in 1968 (7?).

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Roger: Dude, I thought you died not too long ago.
Maharishi: (Smiling with a white flower in his hand.) I am standing in front of you am I not?
R: Uh, kinda. Please, come in.

(MMY floats across the doorstep, the way the South Park characters ambulate.)

M: A very beautiful home you have here.
R: Why, thank you Maharishi
M: Call me Maha
R: Got it, call me Roho
M You are trapped in the physical world and you are NOT a wise man.
R: (Taken aback) I don’t know what you mean.
M: You went out of town recently. You got out of your element, your community and your way of life, and you became intolerant.
R: I beg your pardon Maha?
M: I scanned your brain the entire time. Here are some exact quotes:

Ugh, I can’t believe how much cologne that man has on.
Look at those beautiful teenagers smoking, what idiots.
Can you believe he ate that entire plate of food?
This person is trapped in 1972.
Your view of the world is so myopic.
Your taste in clothes seems to have stopped in 1973.
It is so beautiful here!

M: So, with the exception of that last line, you are an intolerant, un-evolved dolt in addition to not being a wise man.

I stood up, and he disappeared And where he was standing, George Harrison appeared, playing a sitar, the gourd cradled in the hollow of his bare foot. His eyes looked really dilated, which made him look really cute. He didn’t say anything, just looked up at me for a few seconds, bobbed his head a few times with the music, and then went back into his inner world. I closed my eyes and nodded forward.

The door opened and my assistant walked in:

“Your 11 o’clock appointment is here.”

“Send him in Moneypenny” I thought to myself. “Someday I will learn to tolerate all the shortcomings of my earth co-habitants.”

“Excuse me?” she said.

“Send him in Moneypenny.” Her eyes glanced to to the ceiling.

The Beatles (George Harrison) - Blue Jay Way from the Magical Mystery Tour movie

Rufus wants us all to participate in a “turn your electricity off” on June 21. He has a webpage describing what is behind this effort, and it is laudable.

And while you’re at it, you can purchase a bust of Rufus for your piano, or your famous composer bust collection.

Tonight I went to a concert, and after the second piece on the 2nd half, I was FULL. I had a hard time listening to more. The music went in my brain, but I didn’t aggressively take it in as I did when I was fresh. It wasn’t that the music was bad, it was just that I couldn’t take any more.

As I said a while back, short concerts are effective in many ways. In a way, every piece is like a drug, ok, call it a unique biochemical experience, or set of experiences that vary, depending on your “mood,” the time of day, how busy you are, how sad you are, how happy you are, how anxious you are, how sleepy you are. Presenting too much music, at least for me, is like mixing alcohol. Bad programming is like milk and grapefruit, olives and ice cream — yes, they are both foods, but they don’t really belong together, or even next to each other in meal. I cherish the rasa (aesthetic flavor) of hearing a single piece. And if there are multiple pieces, I appreciate thoughtful, effective, and complementary programming. I dare add another component — appreciation capacity — how much can an audience really take in until it is “full?”

If concerts would be one hour and 15 minutes max, our social life could be more active. Meaning, we could go out for drinks after the concert, or eat dinner, see a movie, or go somewhere because the night is still young. AND you are high on the music you’ve just heard.

Three cheers for short concerts!

I first heard Ketjak in Fellini’s SATYRICON and then later when I studied Indonesian music as an undergraduate. Last year I heard a riveting realization of Ketjak in the film BARAKA. (see below) I love the first performance (above) for its raw power. I was taught that this was an example of hocketing, or rhythmically making sure that notes fill up all the cracks when performed by a lot of people. A lot of the guys bouncing along in this performance are playing microsyncopations and have to stay TOTALLY focused to keep with it. The composer (?) gives them periodic breaks. In the BARAKA performance, the leader has such remarkable facial expressions.

Here are the program notes provided for the YouTube post.

A thin slice of the larger ouvre of Balinese music, the Ketjak, or Kecak, was developed in the 1930s using ancient dance and chant forms, and portions of the Vedic epic, the Ramayana. People starting hearing about this more recently because of the excellent film “Baraka,”and clips of that are posted around. This clip is old footage from the 70s, and has a great monkey. We used to listen to this stuff for hours back in the 60s, cranked up to top volume, while we watched the walls crawling with psychedelic hieroglyphics.

There is some dispute about the comments of the narrator at the beginning. Most of the “corrections” that people have posted are so riddled with profanity I’ve had to remove them - apparently it’s a touchy subject..

I guess we should take the narration with a grain of salt, however…