The omnipresence of recorded music illuminates, ironically, the issue of venue and its impact on the experience of listening to music.
Most “emerging” composers in our world, as well as aspirants in almost any genre, seek any opportunity to get their music in front of an audience whether financially lucrative or not—in most cases not. It’s probably the one piece of common ground between all of us, even if the economies that support the successful practitioners of each genre are so stark in their differences.
Learning how to compose or perform music is a very different skill from not needing a diaper anymore, yet we use the same word for it: training.
Composition for sk8ter boi, new music Armageddon, and the iPod as cultural scapegoat. Plus Paola and Jeff get married.
Fun with Internet vanity searches, or, how to keep tabs on your place in the new music pecking order.
The outpouring of comments (thanks, by the way) in response to last week’s column prompts me to address another pop music-related tangent: the use of
vernacular materials in new concert music.
The point I would like to make is about the “star” composer and why he or she ain’t around no more.
The process of meditating is remarkably similar to the way that so-called serious music is “supposed” to be listened to or how books are read, even though meditation is ostensibly a personal inward activity while listening or reading are outward activities focused on someone else’s thoughts.
What makes young musicians resistant to playing new music?
In which we view life through the lens of new music and contemplate smell-o-vision, suspicion of terrorism, perfect pitch genes, Yahoo support groups for microtonalists, and more. Plus, send us exquisitely mean reviews.