According to https://www.pianoscales.org/hungarian.html, the Hungarian Gypsy scale is like a harmonic minor except that the 4th is raised. The Harmonic minor sounds strange and exotic because of the large gap between the sixth and seventh scale degrees. The Hungarian Gypsy scale has another large gap: the pattern of semitones between notes of the scale is 2, 1, 3, 1, 1, 3, 1.

Accorging to https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hungarian_gypsy_scale, this scale is identical to a ragam in Indian classical music called Simhendramadhyamam. It’s now known that the ancestors of the Romani people (“gypsies”) are from Northern India.

https://www.livescience.com/25294-origin-romani-people.html
<blockquote>Europe’s largest minority group, the Romani, migrated from northwest India 1,500 years ago, new genetic study finds.</blockquote>

Here is an example of a song based on Simhendramadhyamam

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RkJXXOFzHyk

I was curious to hear what Romani music sounds like. Here is a world famous group called Taraf de Haïdouks giving a surprise concert.

I spent the afternoon listening to Dr. Robert Greenberg’s lectures on Liszt (part of his “Great Masters” series of lectures). Here is a flying overview:

Franz Liszt’s father Adam was a musician who had once worked with the Esterhase family, where Haydn was employed as court musician. Later Adam moved to Raiding in Hungary. Franz was born there in 1811 and always thought of himself as Hungarian (though his parents were Austrian and the family spoke German at home). Franz was immersed in music from an early age. When he was 5 years old he heard a concerto and later that day sang it back for his father, who realized that his son might be another child prodigy like Mozart had been. During his childhood Franz became fascinated with the gypsy musicians camped outside of Raiding. The music seemed both ancient yet also vibrant, spontaneous and full of improvisation — and made him feel “literally dizzy”. Later Liszt would say about himself that he was “half Franciscan, half gypsy”.

Adam Liszt taught his son until he was about 10 yrs old. He then uprooted the family and moved to Vienna (then the capital of the musical world) and arranged for Franz to have lessons with Carl Czerny (who had been a student of Beethoven). Franz also had lessons in composition with Antonio Salieri. He gave his first public performance when he was 11. His father took him on a performing tour — very stressful for someone so young, but unlike Beethoven and Mozart, Liszt seemed to have a good relationship with his father rather than an abusive one. When Franz’ father died unexpectedly, he was devastated and went into a depression for several years.

Franz and his mother moved to Paris. While they were there the July Revolution of 1830 took place. This woke Franz up from his depression and he began to compose and to play again. While in Paris, Liszt saw Paganini in concert and said afterward “not only does he play well, but as well as it’s possible to play”. Liszt realized that he could become the Paganini of the piano — someone who could take the piano to its limits. The piano had only recently evolved into an instrument that could stand up to that kind of treatment. The new invention of the cast-iron frame made it possible to have more strings, that were thicker and strung more tightly — so it was possible to play with a much greater range of dynamics. And Sébastien Érard invented a new kind of key action that enabled a musician to repeat a single note much more rapidly. Because of the wide range of tone colors it could produce, Liszt thought of the piano as orchestral — one instrument encompassing many. As Liszt explored what he could do with the piano, he created Études (studies) which showcased different techniques. He returned to and updated these throughout his life.

Liszt was also inspired by the romanticism of Chopin and the wildly expressive program music of Berlioz. Something I was pleased to learn about was that Liszt was a very loyal friend to Chopin, Berlioz and others; during his concert tours made a point of publicizing their music. Liszt thought that Berlioz deserved much more recognition, and transcribed several of Berlioz’ symphonies into piano scores. He also transcribed the symphonies of Beethoven (whom he revered) and brought that music back into the public eye. Many of Liszt’s transcriptions were not strictly literal but more of a “re-imagining” of the pieces they were based on.

One of my favorite anecdotes about Liszt mentioned in Dr. Greenberg’s lectures was that friends would give Liszt an orchestra score that he had never seen before; Liszt would then turn it upside down and sight read it — “with musicality” — while simultaneously giving commentary on what he was playing. This leaves me in awe of what the human brain can be capable of. I’m also amazed that Liszt was able to have such an extensive concert career, giving more than a thousand recitals. How was he able to avoid carpal tunnel syndrome? This makes me think of Olympic swimmer Michael Phelps, who with his huge arms and short powerful legs seems genetically designed to swim. There was some incredibly rare combination of traits in Liszt’s brain and body that enabled him to achieve astounding feats of musicianship.

Here is an orchestral version

It’s Labor Day — Kevin is coming over for dinner. However, today I also have to try out the local bus to campus. I don’t want to be riding the bus for the first time when I have a class to get to! AND today is the day to make sure I have done the homework for Tuesday. The Theory reading assignment and workbook assignment are for Wednesday and they are clearly defined. The keyboard assignment for Tuesday is “keep going with what you’re working on”. I have saved up some questions so I think I’m prepared for that class. But Ear Training!!! I’m not even sure what we’re required to have ready for class #3. While looking over the syllabus and handouts I was beginning to wonder if I should have taken the remedial music course first! Reminds me of the summer I took Differential Equations. Differential equations uses derivatives and integrals, and you need to have those skills at your fingertips. When I took DiffyQ’s it had been a few semesters since I’d last had calculus. Also, I took the class during the summer (a shortened semester) so I shot myself in the foot from two different directions. One thing I do remember about that summer was that although I failed the class, I didn’t give up, and my exam grades actually improved as the semester went on. Not enough to pass the class — but enough to experience the feeling off working hard while “not doing well”. Pushing through discouragement.

I certainly hope I don’t fail Ear Training, but already I’m starting to have that sinking flailing feeling. (Have you seen the Curwen solfege handsigns for the accidentals?!?!?!) I have to tell myself –take a deep breath, stop thrashing around, and figure out what direction we’re swimming in!

So at this point in the semester my musical education consists of playing scales (badly), singing vowel sounds (and feeling apologetic for what my prof. has to listen to), and looking ahead into the rough and terrifying seas of sight reading. I see ugliness and incompetence, I feel fear and shame!

In the midst of this comes Dr. Robert Greenberg, like a fresh breeze and drink of cool water after mowing the lawn. I get caught up in the emotion and humor of his stories; it takes the spotlight off my own inner unpleasantness. And what he talks about relates directly to my goals as a composer. Today I’m listening to lecture 3 of Bach and the High Baroque. Greenberg spent several minutes comparing and contrasting two “hosanna”s — one written by Palestrina, and one from Bach’s Mass in B minor. Much of the difference had to do with time — the elapsed time (length of the compositions), and the way time was broken up (the rhythm).

I wish I had a transcript of that part of the lecture since what he said was so well-put. Here’s a paraphrase. I’ll try to get the quote later.

One of the most important things for a composer to consider is time.  If you don’t consider this carefully, your musical vision will not succeed, and your compositions will be flushed down the toilet of history. Exactly how long is each section? It must be long enough to get the listener sucked in — to draw them into your vision. But it must not be one second too long, or it will lose the effect. What is too long, beyond which I can’t ask them to be there? …Music is first: TIME. Time defined by sound. Any aspect of musical time is defined by rhythm. For the Bach hosanna — it is long enough for you to be drawn into his vision,  for our bodies to enter into the realm he creates. (Our bodies respond to the dance-like rhythm). For the Palestrina — very short — not able to be drawn in. What if it had gone on for 30 minutes?  You either would transcend earthly existence and have a vision of God, or you would be dead or asleep. 

This is so important for  TLOT300W. I have sketched out what mood I want for each planet; I’ve given some thought on how to orchestrate this. But …how long is it?

I used to listen to Dr. Greenberg’s audio courses while driving and doing housework. This summer I started back up with Fundamentals of Music. I pretty much finished reviewing that one, although I used a couple of the lectures to help me fall asleep, so I might be a bit vague on those.

Today I started up again with Bach and the High Baroque. This is a longer course than Fundamentals, but not as long as the survey of western music class. It’s 32 lectures. I plan to listen to them during the day rather than while falling asleep, so that I can be sure not to miss anything.

I listened to lectures 1 and 2 today while cleaning the aviary. One thing that struck me was the talk about Bach’s extended family of musicians – how the relatives would get together and, after singing some serious hymns, would then do spoof versions of popular songs. I think the adjective Greenberg used was “ribald”.  Bach also had a close relationship with “his prince” — he worked for him for 6 years — composing music for someone who loved his work. I tend to think of Bach as a lonely genius, and it’s nice to have that image replaced. I do remember that he loved his wife and children, and was devastated at the death of his first wife, and of one of his daughters. He created music especially for his wife and children, for them to play and learn from.

Klavierbuchlein

Look, this one actually shows the fingering notation in Bach’s own hand!

Here’s an article about copyright filters, with the forceful title “This Music Theory Professor Just Showed How Stupid and Broken Copyright Filters Are –Automated takedown systems don’t work, stifle free expression online”

https://motherboard.vice.com/en_us/article/xwkbad/this-music-theory-professor-just-showed-how-stupid-and-broken-copyright-filters-are

YouTube’s Content ID is the most expensive automated filter system of its kind, yet these kinds of stories are not just common, but comical. Like the time another professor uploaded a ten hour video of white noise, only to have it flagged five times for copyright infringement.

https://www.theguardian.com/news/2017/aug/10/adele-vocal-cord-surgery-why-stars-keep-losing-their-voices

In spite of all my preparation, I still missed my first class. There were 2 parking areas I had scoped out ahead of time, thinking that they would have vacancies (because now there are parking garages on campus). Nope. I drove around for about half an hour, getting more and more upset. Barely avoided a couple of fender benders. Finally I got off campus proper. On the way in, I had noticed some parking by the athletic fields; I checked that out. By permit only. (What kind of permit?) Still further away there was some parking on the side of the street on Martin Ave. I parked there and it looked safe and legal, but I had no idea how far from campus I was.

I went home and checked Googlemaps. It’s about a mile. OK, that’s a  possibility. Would be difficult walking a mile in the rain / snow though.

Another possibility is to get up at 5 am, drive in at 6, and be in the parking lot at 6:30 — then sit there and wait to see when the lot starts filling up. The problem with this idea over the long term is that 1) I am unable to drive in the dark and 2) if I wait too late to make the drive, I’ll run into work traffic.

A third possibility is public transportation. When I sat in on a class 5 years ago there was a free shuttle bus that came from a nearby shopping center. The free shuttle bus has been discontinued (because of the new parking garages), but it’s possible that there is a bus with a similar route.

In the meantime, my car’s brakes were acting up this morning. So my lovely husband has volunteered to take me to / from campus til my car is fixed. This will mean getting there early and leaving late, but that’s fine!

What a disaster! Well, it could have been much worse (brakes failing in the parking lot, having an accident). And it was Lecture 1 that I missed. Would have been worse to miss, say,  Lecture 17 on the history of Diminished and Augmented Chords.

I feel ashamed and humiliated — “If I were a better driver or was able to think faster on my feet I could have found a way to make it to class. How did all the other students do it? I’m so incompetent.” But then — I thought of one of the students who had spoken at orientation on Friday. He talked about how much he had grown over the past 2 years; when he had his first performance lab he got partway through and then could not remember the rest of the lyrics of the piece he was performing. He had to walk off the stage. But he came back, and the next attempt was better.

I finally found the classroom locations. It’s right on the registration page (where you sign up / pay for classes). There’s a scrolling sidebar on the left, and you have to make an additional click to reveal the location.

That is the only place I’ve been able to find it!

If you search online for HCC  + location of classes, first it directs  you to the catalog (which tells you the campus only), then reassuringly says there is a notice in the lobby of each building.

Classroom locations for each class are published in our Schedule of Classes brochure. Specific room numbers are posted in each building lobby on the day of class and can also be found on our daily class schedule for classes that have started.

I had held out hope for the daily class schedule webpage, but I just found out it is for “Continuing Education” only — non credit classes.

I’m just grumbling. Back in the old days you received something in the mail. That you could hold in your hand as you wandered around campus. While clutching your map. IN YOUR HANDS. None of this online stuff.

I remember finding the Physics building on the PSU campus — ALL the way down the N-S road from the dorm, then turn right and go east for a few miles. It took me a very long time before I dared to go diagonally. When I did finally head out into that unknown territory, I found a small Sweetgum tree that had unusual colors in the fall — instead of the usual reds / yellows it turned a sort of magenta-pink. Pinkest tree I had seen before, or since.

Anyway, here I am awake SEVERAL HOURS earlier than usual, just grumbling. I wonder what will be this semester’s Pink Tree.

Pink tree (and other colors too!) available here. I’ve purchased trees through this artisan and they are beautiful.

https://www.etsy.com/listing/253919900/bashful-spring-beaded-wire-tree?ref=listing-shop-header-2

George Walker, first African American composer to win Pulitzer Prize, dies at 96

Dr. Walker, who died Aug. 23 at 96, at a hospital in Montclair, N.J., found limited success as a concert pianist, despite early critical acclaim and support from leading pianists such as Rudolf Serkin, his instructor at Curtis. He said he faced racial discrimination — “a pressure-resistant stone wall” — from managers, talent agencies and orchestras who passed over him for white performers. At the same time, he suffered agonizing stomach pain, ulcer attacks that left him hospitalized for as long as a month. Yet Dr. Walker went on to establish himself as a revered composer, a pathbreaking music teacher and a powerful critic of racial discrimination in classical music. In 1996, he became the first African American to win the Pulitzer Prize for music, for his song cycle “Lilacs,” set to stanzas from Walt Whitman’s poem “When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom’d.”

Note — on looking this up — it’s a long poem in free verse, written in 1865. It is an elegy for Lincoln, though he is not mentioned by name in the poem.

One of his best-known works was also his earliest: “Lyric for Strings,”which was written in 1946 as the second movement of his first string quartet. The piece was inspired by the death of his grandmother, a former slave.

With mixed success, he sought to be viewed simply as a pianist-composer, without a racial label attached. When he did begin alluding to jazz standards and spirituals in his work — after attending a 1968 music symposium in Atlanta, where he said he met another black orchestral composer for the first time — he buried the references in atonal pieces that utilized complex time signatures and nontraditional chord progressions.

“He took these simple, elemental melodies and abstracted them so that only someone who knows what to listen for can perceive they’re buried in the fabric of the music,” said his son Gregory Walker, a violinist and former concertmaster of the Boulder Philharmonic Orchestra in Colorado. “You could think of that as a metaphor for his life. There he is working in this white, classical European idiom and mastering it. But he has a grandmother who was a slave, and is part of [African American] culture.”

Photo from Washington Post — taken in 1996