(pretend I'm nonchalantly looking away)

Desperate times call for desperate measures.  Apparently Mark O’Connor, Darol Anger and that guy from Berklee were unavailable for a photo shoot, each citing hair-related issues.  Yes, the dry winter is tough on even the most resilient of curls.  Enter a confused yet opportunistic Rob Moose, who happily stared at himself in the mirror for about 5 hours to the sound of occasional camera clicks.

There was also an article.

Enjoy your snow day.

(get it, I'm in transit)

I am doing something personally unprecedented: flying across the country to see a concert.  In the past, I have journeyed in cars, buses and trains along the east coast to hear music that mattered to me.  Today, an older and more ambitious version of my previous self is kicking it up a notch.  I’m flying to Denver for a single night to hear the premiere of Chris Thile’s mandolin concerto.

I’m currently sitting in the exit row of my second flight, nursing the wounds I sustained after learning my upgrade would not come through.  How recently I was coddled through the initial hop from New York to Minneapolis, served an expansive breakfast and many water refills!  Now I’ve been reduced to complimentary cookies and peanuts and a $5 snack basket.  Is it really a basket?  Where’s my mimosa!

In case you are wondering, I’m not the only person making a journey to hear the concert.  Gabriel Kahane, son of tonight’s conductor, is flying in from Minneapolis on a day off mid-tour.  In fact, we just missed each other at the airport, Gabriel stuck on the light rail as I smugly recharged my computer.  Right now I’m weighing whether or not to wait for him at the Denver airport.  The taxi costs $53.50 and for once I’ve got no one to reimburse my receipt.  But I digress.  I wanted to tell you also that I’m not traveling on some whim of a journalistic assignment.  I’m here purely as a curious and enthusiastic listener.

I feel that this is a unique and compelling moment in the history of American music.  Tonight, someone who grew up playing bluegrass in southern California, who has no conservatory-earned performance degree nor a single composition lesson under his belt, will be standing in front of the Colorado Symphony playing a concerto of his own writing.  Has something like this happened before?  Don’t mention that name on the tip of your tongue.  This is not a genre portrait or some kind of crossover appeal.  A new, serious work has been crafted for an instrument that has (I think) no concerto since Vivaldi.

I’ve been a fan of Chris’ music for something like seven years, ever since a friend mailed me a burned copy of his third solo record, “Not All Who Wander Are Lost.” The album was my introduction to a genre that is often called ‘newgrass’ and I found the combination of folk instrument timbres and chamber music-influenced composition deeply satisfying and thought-provoking.  I followed the genre back through time to discover Strength in Numbers’ “Telluride Sessions,” Bela Fleck’s “Drive,” and Jerry Douglas, Russ Barenberg and Edgar Meyer’s “Skip, Hop and Wobble.” Later I discovered more contemporary releases such as David Grier’s “I’ve Got The House To Myself,” Noam Pikelny’s “In The Maze,” and Andy Leftwich’s “Ride.” I heard Thile’s new work each time it arrived, whether in duo with Mike Marshall or Edgar Meyer, or with his band of identical membership and unstable title (How To Grow A Band, Tensions Mountain Boys, Punch Brothers).  The level of engagement with the compositions themselves was always noticeably deeper on his recordings than on any of his peers’.  This fact as well as his penchant for playing Bach’s solo violin works live combine to make a case for the inevitability of a mandolin concerto.  Actually, that may be a stretch.  The creation of this new piece could stem mainly from Chris’ unceasing ambition and fascination with orchestral music.

Fast forward 24 hours and you’ll find me on another airplane, heading home.  I’m slightly underslept and overnourished but I have no regrets about my trip.  Let me tell you a little more about it.  After being dropped off at the wrong Hyatt, I walked a few blocks to the other one and got settled.  Through the grapevine of privileged text messages, I learned that there would be a pre-concert lecture an hour prior to the concert.  Interested in making the most of my trip, I decided to attend, Gabriel in tow.  Now, one would think that a pre-concert lecture, at which Thile was present, would aim to shed significant light on the origin and creation of the piece.  In fact, the first half of the abbreviated talk was spent discussing the other pieces on the program, with Chris sitting pointlessly onstage.  Eventually, a conversation ensued that served mostly to provide biographical background on a platinum-selling artist to a curious but slightly uninformed audience.  In a telling moment, Chris replied to a question about future performances of the piece by saying, “I know that we’re playing here tonight, Saturday and Sunday and I haven’t thought much beyond that.”  Thank you.  We were, after all, here to discuss the event of THE PRESENT.  Frustration aside, the best moments were Thile playing “Red Haired Boy” and part of Bach’s E Major Prelude in close succession.

The program itself was a bit of a twist on the old, reliable American theme.  It opened with Billy The Kid, a piece with which I became familiar through Bill Frisell’s arrangement from “Have A Little Faith.”  My neighbor said he did not quite believe in the piece, structurally, or as a cohesive unit.  I suggested viewing it as a kind of film score.  I’m a simple listener, I suppose.  I like the rhythmic gesture that underpins the opening melody and, well, descending 5ths always make me happy.  Perhaps I have Chris Whitley to blame for that.  Next up, Jeffrey Kahane, who a close friend refers to as “literally the world’s greatest man,” stepped off the podium and took a seat in front of the piano.  It was inevitable that we would face Gerschwin on this program, but I was pleased to encounter the original version written for Paul Whiteman’s ensemble.   Yin to a later yang, there was a banjoist onstage, playing inaudibly, which is impressive for banjo.  The ensemble also featured saxophones and celeste.  Kahane played the United Airlines out of the piece, revitalizing it with a new sense of phrasing and motion.  It was frankly exciting to watch him alternate within the piece between playing and conducting.  As a surprise, he rocked a mic and told the crowd that in honor of Benny Goodman’s 100^th birthday, he had invited the principal clarinetist to join him in Gerschwin’s 3 Preludes.

At this point, we reached intermission.  Having achieved a friendly familiarity with the bartender in the lobby, we returned for another double round of Woodford Reserve.  While sipping, we sought to identify Nickel Creek fans in the audience.  There weren’t many but they stuck out.  We skipped a piece written by the principal percussionist, seeking a pre-Thile pallet cleanser, and scurried in to find our seats for the main event.  Thile emerged, clad in navy blue suit, green shirt, yellow fat tie and brown shoes.  Emerged isn’t really the right word, as he sort of shuffled onstage, mandolin strapped on, seemingly ready to accompany himself in a little soft shoe routine.  He sort of waved at people, smiling giddily and channeling a 12-year-old choir boy.  Given the orchestration and the nature of the solo instrument, Chris played into a mic and was very lightly amplified.  Too lightly, in fact.  Straining to listen, I was surprised by the harmonic language that emerged.  There was nothing to connect this music to any of his previous work other than his own presence.  The piece seemed conversational and Thile looked around at different sections of the orchestra during rests.  He used the mandolin effectively as an orchestral color, percussive element and solo instrument.  He bobbed, weaved, launched tuplets from the tips of his fingers, played high, low, unconventionally voiced chords and traditional tremolo, even improvised.  The second movement, “Air on the F Train,” featured some ascending sonorities familiar to orange-line commuters back home.  It was sparse and beautiful.  The third movement is harder for me to remember, what with the festivities that followed and the fact that I only heard the piece once.  I did love that there was an excellent ending, having always found the ending of “Blind Leaving the Blind” slightly understated.  The performance did not stop with the concerto.  Thile came back for the E Major Prelude and then invited one of the orchestra’s first violinists, a Colorado State Champion fiddler, to join him for a tune.  She sounded great but I didn’t envy her in that moment trying to hang with the Captain!

On the whole, it was a very compelling musical evening.  I regret not being able to stay to here the concerto another time or two, but I suspect the piece will continue to evolve and appear on my iPod soon enough.  It’s hard to imagine an orchestra playing the work better than the Colorado Symphony did.  They handled the rhythms, colors and principal solos with ease and grace.  I was surprised that Chris, in his compositional process, traveled so far from his bread and butter but I understand that it was likely important to send a message that the work was not an attempt at fusion or some crossover marketing ploy.  I can’t help but feel incredibly inspired by what he created and by the simple fact that he made it happen.  Those of you still reading will be strongly encouraged to buy tickets for his appearance with Punch Brothers at Carnegie Hall in October.  I will be there doing a little bit of my favorite soft shoe.

As for me, it’s time to make some progress on that white wine and enjoy the rest of a fascinating, headphone-free cinematic experience courtesy of two of my least favorite actors, Ben Affleck and Russell Crowe.

Rob Moose

9/18/09

Delta Flight 742

Seat 1D (Greek Salad with Chicken, Ginger Cookie)

(Fred Savage stunt double)

This is the first “blog” I’ve ever written. As Rob recently noted, the sole purpose of my Blog, and I do believe it deserves a capital B, is to beat Nadia, and not be the last one to write one! Having already succeeded at this point, it remains to be seen what I should actually write ABOUT. I could write about my secret desires to be a 1) stand-up comedian, 2) business mogul, or 3) hippie who lives “off the grid” and only eats what he grows. However, I have not thoroughly pursued those paths yet, and so I must talk about being a musician, I suppose.

A number of us yMusic-ers recently had a lengthy philosophical discussion about music, and our different approaches to it, depending on the context. It was one of those amazing nights where you realize that the friends you greatly respect actually have * gasp *, DIFFERENT ideas about music. I think that’s what makes a group like yMusic so powerful. There is no way we could be as versatile and effective at fitting into any situation if we all thought the same way. A high school garage band from Ohio might have the luxury of sharing the same philosophy of making music, and therefore they can make something specific and personal. yMusic is a different beast; its more like a summit of world leaders discussing how to solve climate change. We all have strong, well informed ideas, but different methods seem to make better sense for our respective nation-states. The good thing is that at least we all have a shared end-goal; self-preservation. Hahaha just kidding. Does a joke like that transfer well in text? Probably not. Oh well.

But, for realz, I would rather be in an argument with a worthy adversary than tell an idiot exactly what to do … which is why I’m not a Suzuki teacher anymore! Hahaha …. Hmmmm ….. I’m probably 0 for 2 now with that joke. But whatevs, a Blog is no time to hold back!! I guess I’m just feelin the pressure to prove why 1982 never sounded so good…

So, despite the fact that I am doubtful that anyone besides the 6 of us read these blogs, I am determined to express some grand sweeping philosophical conclusion based on the aforementioned conversation. Here goes: An outsider may assume that all 6 of us in this group think the same, or that everyone who has a classical background plays the same, or that anyone born in 1982 has the same life experiences, or that everyone who voted for Barack Obama is not racist, but the fact is, even when we come from the same place, and end up in the same place, the journey is never the same.

In my future blogs, I don’t think I can keep up such pretentious subject matter, so don’t get your hopes up. I probably shouldn’t drink beer the next time I write one. Oh well. I’m really just anxious to see what hyperlinks Rob adds to my Blog to make it funnier and more post-modern. This Blog is almost done. Very near the end, now. Getting closer every word ….. * phew *! I think I did it.

instead of writing, we sipped gently

You may have noticed a sizeable gap in yMusic communication. Instead of skirting the issue, I find it best to lay it bare, stick it right out there in the open. And in so doing, I want to reassure you all that our group has been full of the best of intentions. The absolute best. For instance, Mike Block promised me two weeks in a row that he would deliver a blog that weekend. He said he didn’t want to be the last one in the group to get one up on the website. Not the most inspired stance, perhaps, but a little pragmatism can go a long way. I’d like to take a moment to recognize him for thinking about doing something.

Mike isn’t the only one with big ideas. Alex Sopp had one too. She even shared the specifics. You see, 5/6ths of yMusic spent about 4 days over in Champaign-Urbana, IL last week. We were performing in “The Long Count,” a multimedia piece written by The National’s Dessner twins and visual artist, Matthew Ritchie. The days went something like this:

Rehearse for 3 hours, walk to Bread Company, order the sandwich you didn’t get yesterday, buy a $.40 cookie on your way out, rehearse for 3 hours, discuss whether the loading dock or the main entrance is a quicker exit, walk in divided camps to Campus Town, argue over the merits of ethnic food in a land-locked hamlet, divide the group, walk back to Bread Company, order from the dinner specials menu, discuss how much better your food is than the other group’s, catch the shuttle bus to the highway-adjacent “Eastland Suites,” walk 7 minutes from lobby to rooms, congregate in room 127 (mine), start and finish a bottle of rum, gin, whiskey (depending upon the day), order Domino’s, destroy that pizza and breadsticks, walk to Circle K gas station and purchase liquid reinforcements, drink some and leave the rest strewn about the room, let the party fizzle like yesterday’s tonic water, sleep well in a surprisingly comfortable bed.

Sounds like a good hang, right? It was. Which brings me back to Alex Sopp. Poor Alex. She was unavailable to render her high-pitched, tuplet-tearing services due to a previous commitment with the New York Carpentry Assocation’s Community Band. Naturally, she was regretting this fact and making it known publicly, using tools such as group text, twitter, and even that old communication dinosaur, email. At one point, she told me of a blog idea. She warned it would be a little narcissistic. I was intrigued. It seemed young Alex had devised a scheme whereby the other 5 members of yMusic could write her postcards, scan them in, and upload them to the blog. The use of the postcard is compelling. A real meeting of new and old, I’d say. There was just one problem: Champaign-Urbana isn’t exactly a postcard-pushing kinda town. You should see the airport. The runway is surrounded by cornfields, they recommend you arrive roughly 15 minutes before your flight takes off, they offer complimentary broadband cables near the gates and I’m pretty sure they clean the bathroom a few times a day. No, this was definitely not a postcard situation. So, Alex’s blog (which, like all great ideas, involved absolutely no contribution from the inventor herself) fell by the wayside and the days tore on like a bicycle gliding along the sidewalk.

I guess the silver lining in all of this is the shame and self-loathing it caused which naturally progressed to a vague sense of motivation. It’s all unfortunate, really, because there has been quite a lot to write about. CJ and I took a bromantic trip to Orcas Island, WA, to perform in the island’s Chamber Music Festival. Gabriel Kahane was out there doing his whole Composer-in-Residence jam and if he was a mouth, we were sort of like the straw to his strawberry daiquiri. Yes, be puzzled. Anyway, CJ and I stayed with a fantastic couple, the Markovs, who have the world’s longest and most beautiful driveway which leads to a lovely house perched atop a hill on 70 acres of land. All the food they put on the table was either caught by them in nearby bodies of water or grown in their garden. It was fantastically fresh and has made eating in New York City, not exactly a culinary dry well, consistently disappointing. Throughout the week, I snapped some shots on my phone and thought we could co-write a blog called “You’re Jealous of Us.” It would have been such an effective summary both of our week in Orcas and of the way we generally regard ourselves. (For further reference, please see Hideaki’s blog.)

As much as I’m enjoying this nostalgic trip through what might have been, I’d like to turn our thoughts to the future. yMusic has 2 exciting events remaining in 2009 and the general ‘you’ to whom I address my quips should definitely attend them both. They are the 3 fun-filled nights at BAM’s Opera House, performing “The Long Count” during the Next Wave Festival, and our very first yMusic concert at the Brooklyn Library’s Dweck Center. Go on, follow the links, bust out that money clip and make me proud!

Rob Moose
9/17/09
Delta Flight 3295 (operated by Northwest Airlines)
Seat 1D

NOT hair extensions

It’s not every day that dedicated fans can plumb the depths of CJ Camerieri’s mind (though it is even less often that he combs his hair).  But for the second time this summer, New York’s most fashionable trumpet player waxes informative.  This time, people are even reading along.  And they’re talking.  There’s definitely some chatter going around.

Ok.  We’re back on subject here in paragraph two.  Amanda Ameer, the Oprah of classical music publicists and author of “Life’s a Pitch,” hosts the conversation. Highlights include “Sufjan” and “South Pacific” sharing a sentence, a double-helix-like explanation of CJ’s relationship to pop and classical music, and Amanda’s disgruntled reaction to her lack of free Broadway tickets.  There’s also a subtle Chris Farley reference.  Come on, people!

Click here to learn, laugh and love (or simply to leave this flawed announcement).

Rob

7/18/09

Sofitel, Lyon, FR

Room 109

To Do Today:

All My Children

1.) Bike over to Carroll Gardens and buy more coffee beans from D’Amico. Love, love & love.

2.) Group Photo! Assemble ALL of the kids and take a picture of them totes togeths. Sad, beautiful, and true…shhhhhhyouloveit.

3.) Park Loop. Then, if it’s sunny, which it won’t be because it NEVER is because New York is actually New Seattle…work on the Summer Tan.

4.) Drop off about 36 dresses at dry cleaners. I like to think I’m a large part of the reason why that family is able to put food on the table every night.

5.) Buy Flowers. A Lady should always have flowers in the Home. I am feeling Peoniesische today.

6.) The Routine: Scales, Swirls, Twirls, Whirls.  Then, start learning Rosenkavalier.

7.) Save The Whales.

8.) Play Summertime Classics concert #3 at the NYP. I love Tchaikovsky. There,

I said it, and on the Internets of all places. He was the ultimate tunesmith.

Today I Am Obsessing Over:

1.) Plantain Chips.

2.) The fact that the guy who is ALWAYS ALWAYS playing Native American flute on the downtown F platform at Broadway Lafayette has…(gulp)…moved his setup OUTSIDE. You know it’s summer when…

3.) Any dress with pockets. Dresses that don’t have pockets are now stupid.

4.) Playing middle D flat perfectly in tune.

5.) My local Chinese acupressure place and the lady who I regularly pay to beat me up. Hurting has never felt so gooooood.

6.) My new 8-key Chris Wilkes flute!

7.) My new set of cray-pas and charcoals!!

8.) My new neon yellow running shorts!!!!!!!!!

9.) …….aaaaaaand my ever dwindling bank account balance.

Today’s double-eWe, Tea, eFFFFFFFs:

1.) People who eat unshelled peanuts on the subway. Just. Gross.

2.) Going to the Korean deli across the street, buying an avocado, a carton of milk, a half dozen eggs, and pack of Bubblemint Orbitz..and having it cost $24.75. My dumbfounded facial expression? Priceless.

3.) Hipsters who talk loudly about playing capture the flag at night in Prospect Park. Wait. Maybe I’m just jealous I wasn’t invited. (anyone wanna play??? Call me.)

4.) The way that some Lincoln Center people react when I tell them I live in Brooklyn. [them, stammering] “….Are….are you safe out there?????” [me] “Well, I mean, aside from the rabid dogs and rapists and bubonic plague, um…prettymuchyeah.”

5.) The Apple Store. Especially the Genius Bar. Genius? Come on, now…

6.) The insane cycling gang guys in Prospect Park who SHOUT their conversations OUT LOUD to each other while their whizzing around the Loop. Why are they talking so LOUDLY? Why are they all dressed in matching jerseys and bikes and helmets and shoes? “TO BETSY THE ONLY WAY YOU’RE GONNA GET ME TO GO” whizz “RIDICULOUS OVER THERE WITH ALL THOSE BREADS AND” whizz “OUTSIDE BUT THE GUY WHO OWNED THE PLACE DIED JUMPING UP A” whizz.

7.) Spanish tourists…I don’t know why, they just bug me. All those cropped parachute pants make me feel uncomfortable.

*OMGBFFSLOL, TWEET TWEET SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT JUST TWEETED*

Something that hangs dangling between an obsession and a ???  for me right now has to do with the The National Flute (wait for it) Association’s Annual Convention, (it’s coming) which is happening in New York City this August (RUN FOR YOUR LIFE).  In addition to that just being A Fact, it is being dubbed The Bright Flutes, Big City Convention.  I.  Just.  Can’t.  Handle.  That.  It makes me giggle and blush and die all at once.  What if I start answering my phone, “Bright flutes, Big City.  Alex speaking…”  Anyway, while you chew on that I’ve gone ahead and picked some of the events I’m super @#$%!&&&*#ed for:

Lobby Concert: Flutatious! and Howlin’ Winds

50 Variations on the Carnival of Venice for 60 Flutes and Piano: Trevor Wye plays magic flutes, piccolo, bass, Scandinavian, flute, Indian flute, Cindy Flute, several electronic flutes, double and triple flageolets, Carrot flute, and many more in his entertaining rendition of the Carnival of Venice.

Historical Flutes Town Meeting!

Exhibitor Showcase: Knuckle Buster Workout

World Record-Breaking Attempt for Largest Flute Ensemble with Sir James Galway:  Make history by being part of the world’s largest flute ensemble. Open to all flutists, but pre-registration is required.

And the Winner…………

Thomas Tallis’ Motet in 40 Parts for 58 Flutes: Hear one of the greatest masterpieces of polyphony for 58 flutists.

living it up after a 3 rehearsal, 2 show, 1 teleconference day

I’ve decided to tip-toe into the ever-so-timely loss of my blogging virginity by explaining, in the horror of nonfiction, how I came to be friends with 3 members of yMusic. The description follows in chronological order.

I met Hideaki Aomori at LAX in February, 1999. There we stood in baggage claim: two nervous east-coasters (I had just finished my first trip on an airplane!) about to embark on a two-week stint as high school jazz all-stars. I repeat, HIGH SCHOOL JAZZ ALL-STARS. You see, we were members of the All-American Grammy Jazz Ensemble. I was lead trumpet, even, Hideaki a mere alto saxophonist. Some Los Angeles highlights included playing with Tito Puente, watching an assortment of adult movies (another first!), making an album in a real recording studio (a third first!), and meeting the widow of my trumpet hero, Clifford Brown.

Incidentally, I found Hideaki to be a good guy and great musician. My interest was particularly sparked by a joke he made on the bus about the phallic proportions/shortcomings of one of the “cool guys” in the band. [Neither Hideaki nor myself were seen as particularly "cool guys."] Porn, bebop and buses behind us, we eventually became dorm roommates in 2000, a partnership that lasted for two whole years.

I met Nadia Sirota sometime during our freshman year together at Juilliard. [Hereafter the “Juilliard School” will be referred to as “that institution.”] It should be noted that we became social friends at school but didn’t become musical friends until meeting at an after party for the National in February of 2008. [See related story] One of the highlights of my early friendship with Nadia was our partnership as work-study cohorts in that institution’s Box Office. [Hereafter, “Box Office” will be referred to as “sticky 9 to 5.”] For those unfamiliar with that institution’s sticky 9 to 5, it is located directly above that institution’s theater. [Hereafter…never mind] This seemingly unimportant detail inspired us toward one of our shining moments as a work-study duo. We decided that it would be consistently funny to answer the question “Where is the theater?” with the phrase “B’low Me!” I’m proud to report that we kept our jobs through graduation.

I met Alex Sopp in my second year of school but we didn’t become close friends until a Rainforest Benefit at Carnegie Hall brought us together in 2008. The lineup was star-studded, featuring artists such as Sting, Billy Joel, Feist, and James Taylor. Alex and I were performing as members of the Orchestra of St. Luke’s and I was proudly wearing my Captain Freelance Cape. When I accepted the gig from OSL, I skeptically told them I had a 9:45 downbeat that same night at the New York City Ballet. The head of operations assured me that I would have no trouble making my second gig as we were only playing on a couple of pieces and would be finished by 9:00. After the dress rehearsal, Alex and I went to dinner and had a delightful experience discussing our lives as freelance performers and collaborative artists in New York City. Things were looking up, but the evening would prove to be a stressful one for me.

Throughout the day, Alex had expressed an endearing level of nervousness about whether or not I would be able to make my gig at the ballet. I repeatedly assured her that every little thing [was] gonna be all right. The Rainforest extravaganza was running slightly behind schedule as we approached our scheduled place in the set list and Alex’s sympathetic anxiety grew by the minute. During the next portion of the program, the screening of a short film, we were supposed to take our places on stage before playing about 15 minutes of music. Instead of turning off all the lights in the house and on stage, however, the crackerjack stage crew accidentally flooded the theater with light, thus signaling to the crowd that it was time to take an intermission. Needless to say I did not have time to wait around for 20 minutes of cocktails, donations and lines at the loo. I immediately panicked. Sensing a role reversal, Alex suddenly emerged in the full regalia of cool, calm, collection at my side. We quickly found the house band’s trumpet player (who couldn’t transpose, wasn’t wearing a tux, and hadn’t ever played in an orchestra) and begged him to take my place at the last minute. As the reluctant words of acceptance were leaving his mouth, I promptly turned around, grabbed my gift bag and tap danced on out of there. I made it to my performance at the ballet safe and sound and weeks later, a check arrived from OSL. But the real payoff (cue cheesy orchestra flourish at 1:37) was my friendship with Alex, born over a concert not played!

There’s no moral to this tale, but I can offer the following factual updates as distracting closing material:

1) Alex moved to Brooklyn, defying all odds.
2) Nadia is now on faculty at the Manhattan School of Music (heretofore referred as “that other institution”).
3) Hideaki still makes the occasional interest-inspiring joke, though his subject matter is much less accessible and teen-oriented.

And if you made it this far, here’s your well-earned reward.

(not a yMusic member)

Newsflash: yMusic gets curious! yMusic goes corporate! yMusic takes a test!

[ anyone else feel like they're in the middle of a Sufjan Stevens song title? ]

In order to explore our group dynamics from a safe distance, we tangled with a compact, internet version of the Myers-Briggs Personality Test. The results follow:

Alex- ENFP, Hideaki- INTJ, CJ- ESFP, Rob- ESTJ, Nadia- ENTJ, Mike- ENTJ

Commentary: 4 N’s vs. 2 S’s. 4 T’s vs. 2 F’s. 4 J’s vs. 2 P’s. The group refuses to meet in the middle. Nadia and Mike, soul mates or sworn enemies? Hideaki, sole introvert from the world of ideas and reflection! Alex and CJ, Rob and Nadia/Mike, so close but unable to get together on that second letter.

Newsflash: yMusic is unconvinced! yMusic ups the ante! yMusic adopts monikers!

Apparently, it’s not enough to receive your own tailor-made set of initials. Some websites, such as this one found by Alex, discuss the tendencies, triumphs and trials of the various personality types. Please enjoy your reintroduction to yMusic plus nicknames and visuals!
[N.B. photos are not associated with Myers-Briggs, Carl Jung, or similarminds.com. You must forage for your own likeness]

CJ CAMERIERI- THE ENTERTAINER	HIDEAKI AOMORI- THE FREE THINKER	ALEX SOPP- THE VISIONARY
NADIA SIROTA, MIKE BLOCK- THE LEADER(S)	ROB MOOSE- THE ENFORCER

Commentary: On paper, yMusic makes a halfway decent military unit. To those unable to participate in the power structure, we raise the following questions:

1) CJ, our “entertainer,” do you prefer to be regarded as an occasional stripper for the troops or more of a modern day fife and drum type?
2) Hideaki, as the “free thinker,” I’m guessing you’re not down with the pushups?
3) Alex, am I misreading this, does your “visionary” status actually make you the General?

Disclaimer: These tests were not administered in a contained, controlled environment. Nadia may well have taken hers on an iPhone. Rob’s results shifted from website to website (initially, he was a member of the leadership squad but, disliking the handshake picture, jumped ship). Hideaki deserves a different picture but, as an introvert, is unlikely to express himself audibly. CJ was the last to complete the test after claiming he was busy waterskiing. He makes no promises about his sobriety during the testing period. Alex was the first to take the test and was later scared of the results. After reaching the test summary page, Mike threatened to change the name of the group and argued that alphabetically, he deserves an earlier slot in the sometimes arbitrary listing of yMusic members’ names.

old blue shoes

Do you use Google Alerts?  I’m sure you do.  If you’re like me, you use more than one.  These days, Google Alerts have nearly taken the place of that old treasure, junk mail.  You see, there are a few ‘Robs’ out there with the nickname ‘Moose.’  Sometimes one will pop up in a sports recap, in which said ‘Moose’ robbed his opponents of the ball, the win, their pride, etc.  There are also other full-on Rob Mooses.  One graduated from Mediapolis Middle School  (wow, super zeitgeisty town name) in Iowa back in 2004, another from the Washington School in Greenville, MS back in 1999.

None of the nick or name sharers, however, can rival this incredible sentence which, courtesy of a comma, contains my name in sequence.  “Actually Rob, Moose if handled correctly, from the time you drop one, taste very much like beef.”  Please note the use of italics (theirs) and the word ‘drop’ (I hope for a more descriptive word after my own demise).  Need I tell you that this syntactical gem hails from an online hunting chat, the subcategory of which is known as Moose.  The “real” mans meat.

My other two google alerts alerts also provide a series of entertaining verbal collisions.  Bach Reformed, my other side project, yields occasional history lessons about Martin Luther or Bach’s role in the development of sacred vocal music.  Osso, the instrumental-side-of-Sufjan-playing string quartet, of which I used to be a member, attracts frequent mention of osso buco, that culinary favorite.  Other highlights include Orphanage Support Services Organization (self-explanatory), Osso Electric, “the exclusive Siemens industrial distributor for Eastern Ontario” and Osso & Co, “purveyors of the finest in quality and style of pet foods.”

I have yet to register a Google Alert for yMusic, but some initial research hints at future joyful discoveries to be made.  There is the ever powerful Yahoo!, who single-handedly necessitated adding the word “ensemble” to our domain name.  Next in line, and this may be because I’m currently in Amsterdam, is the Dutch group YMusic (imagine Y as tuning fork), who accompany cartoons with Satie-like piano jams.  There is a YMusic in Missoula, Montana, a Y-Music in Hopeland, Uganda that serves as “an evangelistic music ministry,” and a /ymusic “quantcast” that “attracts a primarily female, more African American, teen audience.”  That last link didn’t work for me, but it’s branding sure did.  [For ambitious readers only: a quantcast is a Web site that is based on viewing the statistics of other Web sites.]

If you’re the type that asks questions, it may be time for me to address the possibility of a silver lining in all of this.  Luckily, I have one.  You see, a few days ago, I was walkin’ down the road, in New York City, when a tremor struck my right leg, halfway up the quadricep.  I looked down and found Google, right there in my pocket, sending out an SMS.  This exciting announcement was worth the vibrational jolt.  Scroll through.  No hunting, no sports, but actual, relavent news!

Rob

6/18/09

Room 140

Hotel Arena

Amsterdam, NL