For My Dog(grade please)

Copying and pasting this from a word document didn't really work out, so I just took a screenshot. This poem is on a "Dog Pot Litter Bag" dispenser at my local park :)

When Napleon was Blownapart...for lack of a better pun (grade please)

http://www.dailymotion.com/video/xobhy_tchaikovsky-overture-1812_music



In 1880 Tsar Alexander asked Tchaikovsky to write a piece celebrating the Russian victory at the 1812 Battle of Borodino, the turning point of the Napoleonic invasion of Russia. Just six weeks after the commission, the 1812 Overture was born. One of Tchaikovsky's best works, he gracefully captures the emotion of the war and the pride of Russia's decisive victory over Napoleon's army.

I think the reason I like this piece so much is that it tells a story. The piece starts with a sweet and hopeful melody in the strings, like the hope felt by the Russian soldiers, preparing themselves to defend against the French advance on Moscow, the melody slowly builds and then is abruptly brought to a new developing theme. A very worried tone in the oboe at 2:28 (later imitated by other voices) swirls all over, like the fear of the Russian army during their frantic preparations. Next comes the march section (4:10), the sound of the snare gives it that classic wartime touch and the image of the two armies lining up. It becomes frantic and powerful once again (5:05), signifying that the battle has started, intertwining melodies like the two colliding forces. La Marseillaise (the French National Anthem)sporadically pops up in the brass but is engulfed by the growing power of the string section. A false sense of peace is brought up about half-way through the score; it appears as though there might be a Russian victory very soon. But once again, the snare is being played with the flute, the French are counter-attacking, it's time to get back into formation and the dramatic music comes back with La Marseillaise popping up some more. It builds more and more and it seems as though the Russians are falling to the French, hope for the Russians may be lost. However, around 13:30 in the video, the finale's glorious melody appears, with bells, a heroic theme and the blasting canon that brings this piece its fame signifying a truly grand triumph for the Russians.

Tchaikovsky wrote this piece out of pride for his country (although I'm sure money offered from the tsar probably offered some significant persuasion). It took him only six weeks to write it and he was afraid that because it took so little time to compose it would be a terrible song, lacking passion. However, this piece had quite the contrary effect. He wrote this song for the Russian people to celebrate their victory over the French Army nearly 70 years prior. Through his music, Tchaikovsky shows the admiration for national identity that so many of the Russians had. This piece shows the patriotic aspect of war that is often prevalent after a victory. After triumph for any society, the country or empire undergoes an acute sense of nationalism, this is true of the empires of ancient times (think Grecian golden age after the Persian Wars) and continues to be true in modern society, like the US after both World Wars.

Knowing the story behind this song makes a completely different listening experience. You can feel the fear of the soldiers, and yet you can also feel the pride of the Russians decades after the battle. The Russians had become victorious at this war, and a piece likes this brings them all together. This piece shows the celebratory side of war, after all, the main objective of war is victory. It contrasts from how war is usually depicted as hell; instead it is bright and festive. This piece embodies the emotions of both those fighting in the war, and the generations afterwards celebrating through extensive story telling with music.

Many musicians remember the first moment in their life when they are completely absorbed in music. When the sounds and vibrations lift their spirits and take them somewhere only music can take them. This place in time serves as the basis of their musical career.I have a similar moment, one that hopefully, I'll never forget.

Last summer I asked my dad to buy tickets to a Mainly Mozart concert, a few weeks later the tickets came in the mail. He ordered tickets for the wrong concert. I was furious, I was so excited to see this string quartet and the tickets very clearly read "Anthony McGill Solo Recital". Anthony McGill is NOT a string quartet. I decided since my dad paid good money for these tickets, I best look him up and see who, exactly, is this Anthony McGill guy.

When I went to my dear friend Google for answers, I was very pleased to see he was a clarinetist. I decided that the concert wouldn't be nearly as bad as I initially thought.

Weeks went by and it was finally the day of the concert. That day, my dad drove me to a high school in southeast San Diego; I was skeptical and kept asking him if it was the right place, it doesn't seem logical for a professional clarinetist to be playing at a high school in a low-income neighborhood.

We got into the theater and took our seats, the rest is all magic. Anthony walked onstage and immediately starts playing the Mozart Concerto, my jaw dropped by the utmost perfection radiating from this angelical man. This is the moment when I fell in love; not with the man in the tuxedo standing onstage, not with the piece flowing out of his Leblanc, but with music, plain and simple. This instance became the foundation of my inspirations, I knew for certain that from that moment and on, my life was to be musically-centric.

Love is a tricky thing, we hear so much about it, all these fantasies. As we get older, we're told these stories are just myth, that love isn't as simple as we grew up believing it is. But what we need to know is that the magic really does exist, just not in ways we're expecting. Driving into that urban high school parking lot, I had no idea that I would be falling in love that night, but sure enough I did and it was a definite thing. I guess this love doesn't result in prom date, but it makes me happy and that's what really matters.

American as Apple Pie (Grade Please)

I'd like you all to meet Ami Gibbs, my great-great-great-grandfather. He was born on American soil, as were his kids, and their kids...and as was I. Ami worked hard in this country just like the rest of my ancestors, just so their descendants could live a happy life in "The Land of the Free". But I never really appreciated all the work my family has done for me, so although part of this blog post is obviously for my grade in English class, it's also dedicated to all of my family who have worked so hard for me to be happy

When people ask me about my heritage, I refuse to tell them I'm American. I usually recite a giant list "well, I'm German, and English, and Swedish, and French..." and the listeners usually get bored and annoyed.

Also, I always brag about how my parents grew up in Belgium, and although they truly did, they were born in AMERICA;they went to AMERICAN schools, shopped at AMERICAN stores and had AMERICAN friends. I guess don't want to be seen as "trailer trash" from America, I'd rather be seen as the one of the romanticized Europeans.

In relatively recent history, being American was a good thing, it meant living in a country where you were free to your own religion, sexuality, opinions etc. But things change, and that includes global relations. Soon enough other people's views on America have become more negative. People assuming that we eat nothing but fast food, sit on our couches and watch football. I don't want to be associated with that stereotype (I try to say this without coming off as being racist towards Europeans, which would defeat the purpose of this assignment).

My opinion on my own culture has been negatively impacted by these foreign views. With this attitude, I've been marginalizing myself, and valorizing Europeans by pretending to be associated with them. Sure my family is from Europe...it's just that they haven't been from there in nearly 200 years. Instead, I should be proud of my American culture and the diversity of my lineage.

Bedtime stories

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/21/fashion/21GenB.html?pagewanted=1 Remember when you were little and you'd snuggle into bed with your footie pajamas? Your parents would read you bedtime stories and you have sweet dreams. But then you got to an age were it wasn't cool, so it all stopped. What would happen if you never grew out of that? When special bonding time beats feeling socially superior.

My cousin posted this article on facebook with the comment "Read this with a tissue, it's just that touching" and how can I resist a hook like that? My initial reaction was "Wow! That's really embarrassing" but its cuteness grew on me. But why does it seem so humiliating?

I can't really imagine myself at a sleepover and having to excuse myself as I go to my daddy to have him read me a story, its just not normal. I'm old enough to read books, and have been for over 10 years, so why have my Dad do it for me? America's like the underdog nation, it's all about independence and what not. Maybe it's a reflection of that. Maybe because my founding fathers were so rough and tough, I feel like I need to be strong and read a book myself, and not be a little baby. Or MAYBE if my dad and I were to practice this little ritual, we'd have a healthier relationship AND learn some neat stuff too.

I recently read The Forest People by Colin Turnbell, a book written by an anthropologist who lives with the BaMbuti pygmy tribe in the late 1950s, just as Congo is gaining its independence from Belgium. I was expecting there to be a lot more about the Belgian colonists in this book, so I was surprised to find that most of the racism documented is between the pygmies and the "Negros" (the westernized natives). Although the focal point of this book is the pygmies and how they live (it is an anthropological book after all), they were still forced to submit to the other Africans and I found their relationship very interesting.

The pygmies were controlled by an African village. The villagers allowed the pygmies to live deep in the forest as long as they would bring meat, but even when the pygmies were obedient, the "Negroes" were still cruel. Africans being cruel to other Africans? Absurdity! But this form of "backstabbing", if you will, is common, we just never really notice it.

Remember in Rabbit Proof Fence when the aborigine sold out Gracie by telling her that her mother was in town and all she had to do was ride the train whose station just happened to have people there to catch her? It's the same deal.

The "Negroes" were the Africans in contact with the Europeans and were taught the Native People were bad and Europeans were good, after a couple generations this wasn't argued. So when the Belgians leave, the "Negroes" are left feeling sophisticated and in control. They see the pygmies as being childish and wild because they never let go of their traditions.

This book was really interesting because you can plainly see the contrast between European and and BaMbuti lifestyle, and after some thinking you can see how the "Negroes" fit somewhere between.

musician see musician do

In 18th century Japan, artists were divided up in guilds, the leader of any of these these guilds was called an "Iemoto". The Iemoto ran the school and taught all of his students his craft; soon all of his students' art resembles his own, both the master and the student's art share characteristics and would be hard to distinguish. My clarinet teacher, Dana, is my Iemoto, and my goal as a musician is to be like her as much as possible while still developing my own unique style.

When I was younger I was constantly changing private instructors because they couldn't live off the money they were making from private lessons, so when I started studying with Dana I felt very blessed. She's a young woman who's really got her life put together, so I immediately felt like i could trust her.

One thing I really admire about Dana is that she is confident about living in a "man's world". Dana's an orchestra conductor, a profession with male dominance. She's aware of this and uses it to her advantage. Being different makes her noticed, and gives her oppurtunities in her field. Although I'm not sure if being a conductor is right for me, I really appreciate the fact that Dana knows what makes her different and uses it to make her stronger.

The other thing about Dana that I love and wish to master myself, is that she's a successful musician. Most private instructors are burnt out musicians who never made it to a professional level, so they turned to teaching other people. Dana's not like this, she's an active musician and loves it. I hope to keep music a major portion of my life, not just something on the side like a hobby. Dana can do this, and hopefully I can too.

Dana is a great musician and person, because of this, she is a major source of inspiration to me. My goal as a musician, is to embrace my individuality and be a happy and successful person, just like Dana.

WOMAN! Make me a sandwich!

Everyone loves going over the river and through the woods to grandma's house right? Cookies and cheek pinching and everything nice. This summer my dad and I went on a road trip to visit my grandparents for a week. I hadn't stayed with my grandparents since I was little and I was expecting a nice relaxing week in the fresh Northern Californian coastal air, but what really happened came to my surprise.

We first arrived in the late afternoon and as soon as I got settled and comfortable, Grandma asked me to accompany her to the kitchen. Well this isn't that nice, a little grandmother-granddaughter bonding time. WRONG. Slaving over the hot stove, washing dishes, scrubbing floors while my dad and grandpa sit on the couch watching TV is not my idea of a vacation.

Don't get me wrong, I love my grandparents to death and beyond, but this definitely struck me as odd. I guess it's just an old-fashioned way of living. For generations people have been living in a patriarchal society, and that's just the kind of society my grandparents were raised in. There's nothing wrong with being from a certain time period, I think we just need to be aware of what happened with the people before before us, learn from that and grow and adapt into better people.

In this world, people think women are just good at cooking and cleaning. And although I have superior cooking skills (I must admit, I make some pretty mean soup), I don't really want to spend all my time cooking. It's funny how people just don't work together and get the job done faster.