showbiz.

Typical Muse. Which is why they kick *ss.

core audio: system overload.

system = G4 1.0GHz x 2 PowerPC 1.5GB RAM

After two days, I am at a standstill. I will strip out a few more things from the system, and limit processing to a few instrument tracks without running any effects which is not very much fun but at least until I can figure out next steps. Perhaps it is time to step up to a 2.0GHz+ x 2 G5 PowerPC machine or even an Intel box running only Logic and relegate this G4 to running pithy applications like Photoshop and InDesign and Mail and Safari.

I am still trying to figure out an overall system scheme that includes a server that is always on that has our music on it (so we can access it anywhere including the Xbox to play it through our audio system) but also picture files, documents, etc. etc. and then something that is screaming fast that includes multiple drives for effects files and sample files for Logic and I thought again of the G3 sitting in the basement that could play media server once configured with a bigger drive that then backs up to say its own USB 2.0 or Firewire drive on a schedule (this could even have all our documents on it too and we could access mounting via AFP) then (and this is wishful thinking) a new G5 or Mac Pro running Logic with either multiple internal SATA drives backed up to its own Firewire or internal drives setup as RAID-1 mirroring within Disk Utility but the point being that machine and its backup would only be for audio files while the G3 server would serve up everything else. Julian would still have his G4 iMac and this G4 would be used for Photoshop work. As long as this is wishful thinking, I could try selling this G4 which would possibly net me a few hundred clams and then I would get a G4 iBook (1.0 or 1.25Ghz why not?) to use as a webbook to sit on the couch and surf the web and do email for which I would set up a wi-fi router hidden somewhere in the living room or maybe just in the media closet once it is all assembled and then also when plugged into a monitor to run Photoshop and InDesign and such and it would be reading/writing to the (possibly G3) server as stated would be backed up by an external drive.

Hmm. Jeff says I have reached nerdvana. He also said there are hundreds of networking options it is just a matter of finding which one suits your needs. My initial thought is I think this would work. And yes I totally realize this entire post was completely pointless to anyone besides myself more like me instead of talking typing to myself which I suppose pretty much describes this entire blog so there you have it system possibilities and overloads and all.

logic.

Installed here running a Yamaha grand sample with some space designer reverb. Much to learn, although we have already discovered a sample that Enigma used from the Logic library on Seven Lives Many Faces.

ps – apparently running a stereo channel with the space designer reverb set to the 'old plate' parameter and the grand piano sample is already maxing out my dual CPUs and causing a bit of breaking up in the signal so must switch to a mono channel.

imperfections.

I used to struggle with the idea of perfection. I am an über-perfectionist and was always proud of this fact. Everything needed to be perfect or it was worthless. Everyone needed to be perfect or in them I would hold no interest. I set impossibly high expectations for everything in which I surrounded myself. It was an odd predicament for which I set myself up given the fact I knew, well,  I was not perfect. But I could not accept compromises in any form.

Until I listened to an old vinyl recording I picked up I do not know where and do not know when of Wilhelm Backhaus performing three of L.v.Beethoven's most powerful sonatas for piano. I do not recall which piece he was performing when I noticed through the headphones I was wearing that his piano was slightly out of tune. And his phrasing was slightly off. Granted, ever so slightly. But off. Imperfect. But it was brilliant. It was perfect.

And that was it. The spell was broken.

Since that moment some evening years ago, I have become aware of many instances where imperfection is perfect and necessary and I am reminded of this as I work through tuning the Bechstein. The entire basis of the modern method for tuning a piano relies on imperfection. Mathematically a piano cannot be tuned perfectly. Well it can, but only to one key (well, actually several but I will try to keep this thought simple without totally getting into the mechanics of acoustic theory). There must be a compromise in order to play the twelve minor and twelve major keys we have so cunningly devised.

Along these lines Plutarch wrote ~

"Music, to create harmony, must investigate discord."

I have numerous texts on the subject of tuning and what we call temperament including a perfectly old text published in 1946 simply titled Piano Tuning and Allied Arts. It is as fascinating as the stars. How the art of tuning a piano (and yes, it truly is an art) is as I tend to find the most appealing a merging of science and art. It is incredibly mathematical in its design, but what lies at the heart of being able to carry out is the human element of hearing the waves of sound the beats and pulses of two notes set against each other and the timings and from those pulses to determine the correct temperament (most recognizable in the octave, unison and fifth) caused by the waves in the defective pair alternating recurring periods when the condensations and rarefactions antagonize one another. In other words – or word, as it is called in physics – interference. It requires a clear understanding of harmony, the natural and artificial phenomena of musical tones and how they relate to each other through intervals and those specific relations. It is mesmerizing.

The term temperament means quite literally "a system of compromises in the tuning of pianofortes." Compromises. Imperfections. Both necessary in order to achieve a balance – that being able to play in all twelve major and minor keys (the pianist David Helfgott's professor told him quite assuredly that "it is all a question of balance"). There are two principal temperaments in our twelve-step musical intonation – mean-tone and equal. Mean-tone temperament was used primarily before 1700 and intervals like the fifth and literally every step of a scale were tuned perfectly. This sounds wonderful, but physics complicates the matter (bother logarithms) and music written in one key could not be transposed to another without certain intervals sounding atrocious (due to the complications of a vibrating string's overtones). It was around 1691 that Andreas Werckmeister theorized a series of tunings where enharmonic notes had the same pitch in such that the same note was used as both (for example E♭ and D♯), thereby bringing the pianoforte into the form of a circle. This refers to the fact that the notes or keys may be arranged in a circle of fifths (anyone who has taken even an elementary music theory course will recognize this term) and it is possible to modulate from one key to another unrestrictedly. It was quite brilliant and formed the basis of the modern tuning system.

But how it works is simple and complex – the fifth is tuned perfect .... then flattened slightly. The complication of course is in how much. In a true equal-tempered scale, all half-steps are tuned equally and thus no two fifths will beat exactly alike because the lower the fifth, the slower it should beat while those in the treble are meant to beat faster, for if all fifths were tuned perfect we would end up being unable to transpose our music (the physics is quite complex and I will refrain from elaborating). There are a number of different tests the tuner performs while setting the temperament to check this flattening of fifths (listening to other intervals – the perfect thirds, the major sixths and so on).

I have known people who have replaced their pianos with electronic keyboards for ease of use – the electronic version never needs to be tuned (or – with the aid of a sequencer – can be tuned to any number of different tuning systems). Electronic music can also be quantized (in software like ProTools or Logic, for example) which is simply a method of aligning notes to a mathematical grid so-to-speak so that each note is perfectly in time – rounded to a degree of precision up to 0.00390625 (1/256th). I propose that had Backhaus' performance of Beethoven been quantized, all feeling would have been lost. For this very reason and for what I find slightly ironic is the fact that in Logic Pro (and no doubt other digital workstations) a parameter called Q-swing can be introduced which – in the case of Logic – varies the position of every second beat giving a purely quantized performance a more, well, un-quantized feel. A certain air of imperfection, in other words.

Once this idea is accepted the examples of necessary imperfection set against perfection in order to achieve balance are everywhere but – and this is key – they are all analog (or one could use the term 'organic'). Backhaus' playing. Equal-tempered tuning. Film grain. The ability of analog tape to absorb excessive electrical impulses before clipping the signals (a form of acoustic saturation, known affectionately as tape saturation). In an analog world and with analog devices, imperfection can be achieved to balance perfection. In digital and all of its binary code, there is no imperfection.

Although inextricably linked to this topic, I wish to avoid the clichéd argument of analog vs. digital (at least for now) and instead adhere to simply throwing out the idea of the necessity of imperfections all around us which allow for us to feel a connection – be it to a musical performance, Nature, those people we choose to identify with and so on.

Or just a slightly out-of-tune, mis-timed performance of a Beethoven sonata on a Bechstein grand by an aging genius named Wilhelm Backhaus.

homestead.

"When you can see your breath, you know you are alive."

~ Annick Smith

the rip [radiohead].

This is bloody brilliant. I heard he covers this during soundcheck, but I was excited to find it on youtube. Enjoy, cheers.

desktop.

My new desktop, courtesy of Nasa images. There are millions in which to choose. I have assembled my own screensavers as well.

first snow.

It is snowing right now and starting to stick to the ground!

Um, yeah – that is all.

my weakness.

9 December. Listening now to Message From Io on headphones in cozy room perched precariously on the South Rim of the Grand Canyon. It had been a rough start this trip with seemingly lots of little things going wrong. The weather was beautiful in Phoenix but for reasons I cannot entirely figure out I just do not like that city. At all. I think it is the perceived generally apathetic attitude that permeates the city's pores. But one highlight was I found a friend for Stanley at a kitsch-Mexican store in old town Scottsdale. I cannot wait to surprise Julian with him tomorrow. Crazy to think I will be home tomorrow at this very time (probably just landing). So thankfully had the foresight to plan an extra day this time for myself after the conference to head up north to the Grand Canyon as I have never seen it. I finished up my last presentation (an RGB color correction lab) and ran up to my room to stuff everything back into my bags and check out. One last check of the weather confirmed it is supposed to be sunny here tomorrow. A quick farewell to a few remaining folks I knew. Then off north out and away from Phoenix and the smog and attitudes I-17 leading the way to Flagstaff two hours away. Past the red rocks of Sedona visible to the west flaming orange in the light of the setting sun, then beckoned onward by the alpenglow on Humphreys Peak. East on I-40 for a bit in the dark after a quick bite in Flagstaff, then north at Williams across what I could only surmise was flat, barren desert as twilight gave into night along US64 towards the town of Tusayan and the South Rim. I was in the middle of nowhere and finally beginning to relax and be myself again. I got to the park to find the entrance unmanned and open, a simple sign telling me to enjoy my visit and I slowed to a crawl feeling my way in the dark to the place I had reserved – a small, charming lodge called Bright Angel Lodge perched on the South Rim. In time I found it (with only one wrong turn) clustered among the other small lodges built by the Park Service. After staying in snobby resorts with their snobby desk clerks shirts buttoned to their collars fake and condescending bus boys and bell hops plastic I cannot quite convey how perfect it was to walk into the little lobby of this rustic lodge built out of materials found in the area and setting the precedence for all national park structures to follow a wood fire burning in the fireplace off in the corner me bundled up in down to ward off the cold (along with being sunny tomorrow the overnight low is forecast at seventeen degrees!) a nice woman smiling in fleece and khakis from behind the counter 'how may I help you?' We settled my reservation and she proceeded to tell a guy finally shedding the snobbery of ritzy resorts and settling into the fact this was the Grand Canyon although I had not yet seen it and this was me where to go come sunrise then I was off to my little room. I found it with ease and opened the door and was greeted by the most perfect accommodations I have ever had the pleasure of inhabiting. After such lavish but sterile surroundings for the last four days, the details made me smile – there off in the opposite corner this perfect little pedestal sink and mirror with soaps and lotions and a small towel tucked in the wall above, a small dresser and bed with tables and lamps on either side, the wood trusses running across the ceilings an antique lantern hanging from one, the door latches and mouldings. I melted into the place immediately with a sigh and set down my bag after turning on a small light in the far corner. This was perfect. I nudged the heat up a bit to ward off the chilly night. But somewhere out there was this enormous void I had not yet seen but must. And so I donned a sweater, put back on my down, grabbed my iPod and shut the door behind me to step out into the night. Not more than twenty feet outside my door I found myself staring into an abyss I could not even imagine as my eyes adjusted to the night. It was cold which was incredible. I could not believe it. I put on my new gloves and started east along the Rim Trail which follows the South Rim for thirteen miles. My shoes crunched atop hardened snow and slipped occasionally on black ice. But there it was. In all its grandeur hidden under the cloak of night. As soon as I got away from the lights of the lodges I stopped and let my eyes really adjust to the night. The moon was nearly full and cast shadows of the trees and the canyon and throwing mine behind me. It was incredible in such a way I cannot really describe. Feebly at best I am trying but standing there against the moon staring into ridges and ridges across ten miles of canyon so enormous as to defy gravity knowing I cannot. I walked and walked along the rim just staring out not watching where I was going hands in pockets Moby on my iPod. I could not believe I was here under moonlight walking along the rim of the Grand Canyon. In the dark I could see the curvature of the earth. Why am I so strange? Why do I find it so easy to smile alone? To laugh and cry surrounded by such immenseness. Under Orions to the east and Cassiopeas above even the Pleiades winking down on me. After a couple of miles I stopped just short of a rise in the bend ahead and wandered out to a point the lights of the lodges now hidden behind layers of the canyon rim so not a sign of life anywhere the moon showing me the way to the edge the dropoff intense. I laid down on a rock at the edge of that void staring up at the sky my feet hanging over an incredible drop and after some time sat back up laughing crazy tears streaming down my face Moby's Look Back In on repeat freezing cold yelling to the emptiness surrounding me this is the fucking Grand Canyon! laughing harder uncontrollable my breath frozen in the air miles of nothingness I could not have been more happy even the moon approving of my declaration. I got up at last and kept going toward Yavapai Point. I could not make them out under the moonlight but from a map I had glanced at back in my room before heading out I knew they were out there watching over me – Zoroaster Temple, Brahma Temple, Shiva Temple, Tower of Ra, Angels Gate. I had discovered earlier the canyon features bear names of worldly gods and heros because a geologist in the late nineteenth century named Clarence Dutton while writing the first important book on the geology of the canyon was overwhelmed and found similarities between the buttes in the canyon and the temples of India and China and so began naming the features after eastern gods. Rama Shrine. Krishna Shrine. Vishnu Temple. Tower of Set and Cheops Pyramid. Osiris Temple. And then to the the east there is Juno Temple, Jupiter and Venus Temples and the Colorado bends north. Moby's Chord Sounds had long replaced My Weakness and Look Back In as I found myself on this point surrounded on three sides by an enormous drop sheer and complete to the inner canyon it seemed in the dark nothingness just the night. Yes, this beauty was crazy beyond words. Everett Ruess could not even describe it except to say and only once ~

"Nothing anywhere can rival the Grand Canyon."

That was all he could muster so I too will not try. But standing on that precipice the sides falling away all around me into the depths of one of the wonders of our Earth lit only by the moon had me shaken. I trembled slightly then found the strength or sense of will to finally gather myself and started on my way back to a small, cozy room heater nudged up a warm bed right on the edge of it all.

10 December. Woke up at six o'clock still dark. An hour and a half until sunrise. Crashed back into the bed for another half an hour before rousing myself with excitement for the coming dawn. Cozy warm in my room and after quickly getting ready peaked through the curtains to find a dim light outside me snow on the ground pale as only bitter cold winter mornings can be and I shouldered my bag loaded up with camera gear and ventured out into the frigid predawn morning. I could not decide whether or not to go east or west. Ultimately since I knew I would be shooting west away from the sun and the walk around and east-facing bend in the canyon on towards Hopi Point looked like it would take me longer than I had until the sun would be up and the light changing quickly. So I headed back towards Yavapai Point the soft glow of light before sunrise incredible. Muted pastels of rosy pink fading to pale blue sky above the North Rim of the canyon. I moved quickly but constantly watching the light until it happened – the first glance of the sun along the top of the North Rim. It is always a treasure to witness the sunrise and simply unbelievable in the spot I found myself this morning. A smile again came across my face. I kept moving though and after maybe a mile and a half I found a perfect spot just before Yavapai deserted rocks protruding to a fine-pointed edge affording me a fabulous viewpoint and composition in which to set up the Hasselblad. I did quickly. Metered. Filter in place this time a yellow Wratten gel #8. After exhausting a roll there, I moved on to the true point and the outlook there where I went through the remaining rolls I had brought mostly of the same composition but different as the light and shadows moved and changed with the rising of the sun. It was cold. Despite gloves my fingers were nearly frozen (which proved difficult for changing rolls of film!). There were only a few people wandering about maybe kept away by the lure of a warm breakfast had near fireplaces back at the lodges. I preferred the cold. And solitude thankful for it. Once the light had exhausted the possibilities for film I repacked my bag and headed back towards the lodge and a quick respite from the cold to thaw out fingers and write a bit. It was incredibly clear and I could easily see Mt. Trundell sixty miles to the west. Walking back I could not help but think last night under the light of the moon and gentle watch of Orion was my moment of weakness. To not be able to really see and having to imagine the whole power of this place made it more gripping. It made me think back to a trip with Jeff a few years ago where we were driving through southeastern Utah knowing we wanted to be in a good spot close to Monument Valley for the coming day and Jeff finally fessing up he had forgotten the tent. It was early October and the temperatures on the Colorado Plateau were quite pleasant and the weather clear. So in the dark we stopped along some highway nameless to us could have been anything in the middle of absolutely nothingness. I stabbed at a state park off in the distance on our map even more in the middle of nothingness called Goosenecks of the San Juan. We drove a couple more hours in pitch dark two lane highways cutting across perfectly flat plateaus the dark stretching out all around us in every direction. After a turnoff and bouncing over a long dirt road we came to the end. Apparently this was it. In the middle of Utah desert night we could just make out a shelter and picnic table. We could tell it was perfectly flat all around us. The stars touched the horizons. Tossing our sleeping bags on the dusty earth we climbed in and stared up at a perfect desert autumn night clear overflowing with stars more than I had ever witnessed. We woke with the light and I roused myself out of my warm bag to walk around and get a bearing on our situation that we had not been afforded in the dark of the precious night. Not more than a hundred feet from where we slept I came across the edge of an enormous canyon. The Goosenecks of the San Juan River as it gouged its way into the plateau on its way to the Colorado River. I grabbed for my twin-lens two-and-a-quarter ancient camera lens tack sharp to photograph the scene spread out before me. The desert is insatiable. My memories of it as clear as that night (one day I will have to try to sum up a day of incredible light in Arches National Park but not now). My thoughts returning to the present I huddled against the cold as the sun rose ever higher and casting a layer of increasing warmth over the landscape. After packing up my stuff again and checking out (this little lodge even had free wi-fi so I was able to check in to my flight that evening) I tried waiting for a shuttle bus that never came so trudged back to my car to head west to Hopi and Mohave Points. I wanted to have been able to stumble upon them like I did Yavapai in the dark but was running out of time for this first visit to this place and so it would have to do just scouting them out for my return when I will spend more than one night and half a day and I will venture down into the canyon from one of any number of trails that descend quickly from the rim going back to Moby's The Sun Never Stops Setting which more or less ended up defining this journey through Arizona deserts warm and higher deserts cold snow-covered and desolate. I will retrace my steps. The last leg. Now thirty-seven thousand feet over somewhere between there and home. I want to develop the films. Perhaps if merited even venture back into darkrooms watching an image develop under safe lights smells of chemistries in the air. I want to return. An old Hasselblad fixed with an eighty-millimeter Carl Zeiss lens and some Wratten filters. A light meter. I now know the sense of being crushed by immenseness and I want to feel that from below the bottom passing through stands of cottonwood and oak groves down to the Colorado unable to contain myself again feeling the reality of our fragility lost among the enormous world crazy beautiful surrounding us shouting from the canyon floors waiting for the resounding echoes crashing off desert walls without hesitation this is the Grand Canyon!

home.

Is what I miss right now.

ps - In-n-Out wasn't the same without you, J.

autumn.

Fall is the time when birds fly south for the winter. I like it in fall when I climb the biggest tree at my house and I watch the birds fly. Another word for fall is autumn. The weather changes in autumn when it gets the perfect temperature outside. The French word for autumn is l'automne. In autumn, my family does a lot of raking leaves. I can make things out of leaves like forts and piles of leaves and jump in the pile of leaves. I can wear yellow, red, or orange clothes and climb a tree and stay still. It's like your [sic] camouflaged in the tree and nobody can see you. It's like your [sic] invisible. The trees look prettier that [sic] before. That's why I like autumn!

~ Julian, age 8 (I found this little story in his folder today)

parthenon crumbling.

I re-figured out a song tonight that I had written a while back (in this case, written meaning came up with in my head, transposed to the piano without ever actually writing any of it out and then promptly forgetting the chord progression while only retaining the key – in this case, B-flat minor). The trick is the change from the inverted B-flat minor to the inverted D-flat major but the whole progression is quite good. In any case, scrawling half-thought-out lyrics except for the line at the end (which I came up with at least a year ago) ~

like granite in time and marble walls I will fall

I will fall

I will fall

I will fall

I will fall for you

Maybe limestone in time .... (and of course that is sung with a rising crescendo as the music gains momentum and dynamics until it nearly literally explodes the piano massive fortissimo arpeggios big fat chords the guitars insatiable chords and arpeggios the bass arpeggios fuzzy and distorted the drums just for lack of a better term insane and the singer above all how he falls over and over and over). And I will continue to work on lyrics tonight.

And I received Logic Pro on my front porch tonight. And I am about the most excited I have been in a very very long time. And there are two manuals each about the size of a phone book. And I will be bringing both of them with me to Phoenix to read on the aeroplane. And my uncle may sell me his dual 1.25GHz mirror drive G4 if anything to use as backup (Logic Pro 7 is coded so that it can actually perform distributed computing and use CPU strength from across a network not to mention it was written for the G4 CPUs though granted trying to do a 64-track mixdown with each channel having a bunch of effects going all at the same time and bouncing that down to stereo might be tough .... ). And once I transfer the contents of my current Quicksilver G4's hard drive onto the new RAID I will set up once it arrives in the next day or two along with maxing out the RAM capacity on the Quicksilver, I will do a clean install of 10.4.11 before installing Logic. And yes this is all quite exciting. And yes I still need a USB MIDI interface and a pair of decent mics.