Ping Pong
Well, Friday turned out better than I had expected.
Meredith's retirement party turned out to be just four blocks from the salon, so I got to go to both.
The hit of the evening was Keith Eisenbrey's piece for .wav, spoken word and 200 ping pong balls.
The piece opened with an abrupt noise chord that tapered to the percussive .wav music on bells and various accompanied by spoken, emotionally charged words
Then, when the bucket of ping pong balls was poured from a sixteen foot height, it echoed the form. A recap, more or less as the balls hit they made a 200 voice chord followed by the long bounces that slowly became faster and faster bounces as they became fainter and fainter. Accelerando/diminuendo, until fadeout.
Like the ever expanding universe theory would sound like if you ever got a chance to see it through the end
Loved it!
Today was the Bach cello suites performance presented by the Seattle Violoncello Society.
Loved that too!
Apparently there is an international cello society convocation in the works for Seattle. I meant to sign up to volunteer to help out with that, but I took off for a restaurant as soon as the applause dimmed.
I'll look for their website.
Why pass up a chance to get thrown out of somewhere.
Back to the duet.
It's the same duet that I've posted, but reworked 'till you wouldn't believe.
Meredith's retirement party turned out to be just four blocks from the salon, so I got to go to both.
The hit of the evening was Keith Eisenbrey's piece for .wav, spoken word and 200 ping pong balls.
The piece opened with an abrupt noise chord that tapered to the percussive .wav music on bells and various accompanied by spoken, emotionally charged words
Then, when the bucket of ping pong balls was poured from a sixteen foot height, it echoed the form. A recap, more or less as the balls hit they made a 200 voice chord followed by the long bounces that slowly became faster and faster bounces as they became fainter and fainter. Accelerando/diminuendo, until fadeout.
Like the ever expanding universe theory would sound like if you ever got a chance to see it through the end
Loved it!
Today was the Bach cello suites performance presented by the Seattle Violoncello Society.
Loved that too!
Apparently there is an international cello society convocation in the works for Seattle. I meant to sign up to volunteer to help out with that, but I took off for a restaurant as soon as the applause dimmed.
I'll look for their website.
Why pass up a chance to get thrown out of somewhere.
Back to the duet.
It's the same duet that I've posted, but reworked 'till you wouldn't believe.
Labels: CGDA
posted by Lane Savant at 3:53 PM
3 Comments:
Hallo, Lane!
Except for your excellent Violin Duet, the "Salon" doesn't seem to play any REAL music!! You mal "love it", but I certainly do not consider ping-pong balls to be musical instruments!!
Volunteering for a Cello Society event does "grab me", however. If it is sometime when I am in Seattle, please volunteer me, too.
I'll be in Seattle 28 May -- 13 August 2008 and approx. 10 Jan -- 28 Feb 2009. Could you please put their "www" address in your blog site when you discover what it is.
Besten Dank,
Anonomann
Hallo, Lane; Grüsse Meredith!
The LL and I congratulate Meredith on being able to survive Boeing's incompetents long enough to qualify for retirement, and we both wish her a happy time finally doing what SHER wishes to do WHEN SHE wants to do it (the best part of retirement!)!
Herzliche Glückwünsche!!
LL + Anonomann
Meredith has now joined the Army of the Retired. God knows the intensity of her projects looming on the new horizon.
I have to get one of my kids to show me how to engage the proper media player at home, I guess. I can play mp3's at work, but not at home. What a drag. Sounds like you have a similar problem there, Lane.
Cello is my instrument of choice; at least for listening to. It is a direct pipeline to that hidden room of all my strongest emotions. I must say the older I get the more easy it is for that door to that room to blow open and get me all teary-eyed. Old men cry easy, they say; the smug young bastards.
Glenn
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