Here's wishing everyone a belated Happy New Year! I honestly thought that I'd be posting more frequently here, so I'll give a quick summary of some things that I've been doing lately.
- Reading from Just After Sunset, Stephen King's most recent collection of stories
- Reading Gravity's Rainbow by Thomas Pynchon (This is my fourth attempt; let's see if I make it all the way through this time!)
- Sketching ideas for pet portraits
- Watching movies (Survival Quest, Hearts of Darkness, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead, just to name a few)
- Playing music and sketching out some new tunes
"Mustache #2" (2009, Plaka on Canvas Panel)
The reason it is called "Mustache #2" is I had a doodle that was going to be "Mustache #1" after I enlarged it and transferred it to the canvas panel. I drew the enlarged, mirror version (so it would transfer properly) freehand, which caused some unintentional alterations (hence the name).
I've started sketching what will eventually be "Mustache #3" then we'll see where I go from there. Perhaps mutton chops? Beards? The world of stylized facial hair is wide open.
On another topic, in addition to the movies listed above, I also saw Keith Jarrett: The Art of Improvisation. This documentary explored Jarrett's life, career and his ideas about performing. One of the most profound things he discussed was the ability of improvisation to stand alone, rather than as a way to get from Point A to Point B in a composition.
Personally, I think when I am improvising (not within the context of a tune, but actually improvising compositions), I am playing the most meaningful music possible. Of course, when I have listened back to such improvisations, I perceive a very different reality (a bit like the dichotomy of perception that Mick Goodrick refers to in his book, The Advancing Guitarist). Maybe I just owe it to myself to keep recording them, knowing the more I make, the better they might become.
The other thing Jarrett said in this documentary that fascinated me was that classical performance is almost designed for failure (I'm paraphrasing a bit). The performer of traditional repertoire already has success defined for them as playing all the notes in the score correctly, and an audience that will for the most part be judging the performer against an imagined ideal interpretation. The classical performer has already hit his or her peak if they have played perfectly during their practice sessions. There is not a lot of room for discovery once they are on the recital stage. I'm sure not everyone would agree that this is the case, but it makes sense to me.
Anywho, can't think of too much more to write now.
Until next time,