calimac: (Haydn)
([personal profile] calimac Aug. 26th, 2025 08:55 pm)
Today at the Banff International String Quartet Competition, which I'm watching livestream, the other five competitors who didn't play yesterday got their turns to play one Haydn quartet and one work from the 21st century.

The Haydns spanned the range of aesthetic approach. The Cong Quartet (so named because they're from Hong Kong - I guess if they spelled it "Kong" people would think they were from Skull Island) played Op. 33/2, known as the "Joke" Quartet for its infamous fake-out ending, and they played it jokily. They got into the rhythmic swing of the work, all the way through and not just in the finale, and found the lively Haydn spirit there. The Poeisis Quartet in Op. 71/2 also caught the playfulness and spark of the music, though their approach was not especially witty, unlike the Cong or yesterday's Nerida.

The other three were more serious. Quartet KAIRI brought crispness and clarity to Op. 74/1. Their playing was rich, smooth, and resonant, even buttery. The Arete Quartet played the relatively early Op. 20/2 as if it were less a Sturm & Drang work than a Baroque one, clean and elegant, the more so as it has a fugue for a finale, here hushed and intricate. But by far the most serious-minded, sober and plain performance was Quatuor Magenta (pronounced MAH-zhen-tah - they're French) in Op. 76/3. This is the "Emperor" Quartet, the one whose slow movement is variations on a Haydn theme written as a hymn to the Holy Roman Emperor, and which eventually became "Deutschland über alles," as a result of which hardly anyone plays the quartet any more. So due credit to a French ensemble - of four women, yet - for taking it up.

Of the 21st century works, none really appealed to me, though at least they all sounded different, unlike the last festival where they all seemed much of a muchness. The most enjoyable was the Cong's performance of Quartet No. 7 by Lawrence Dillon. A clever and strongly rhythmic work, with lots of whining calls for individual instruments above the chattering of the group. Something similar was the case with Magenta in Pascal Dusapin's Quartet No. 5 - yes, that's the third time this piece has come up in two days. Magenta's rendition seemed more haunting and abstract than the Elmire's yesterday.

Kairi did Floral Fairy by Toshio Hosokawa, which put a wispy sound with lots of harmonics at the service of an abrupt, random, detached style that was far too reminiscent of Webern. This is the sort of modernism that I'd hoped was dead by now. And I can't say much more for Many Many Cadences by Sky Macklay, from Poeisis. With some variances later on, this consists of an endless repetition of a jerky descending motif ending in the tonic, so yeah it's a cadence though it doesn't approach it through a conventional harmonic sequence. And even less for the Arete's choice of Jörg Widmann's Hunting Quartet, which we also heard yesterday, the only difference being that, for this work requiring waving bows around a lot, the Arete's violins and viola, unlike yesterday's Viatores, stood up to play this piece.

Next up is a round from the romantic-era repertoire, with the nine quartets playing seven different pieces. This will also be spread over two days, but I probably won't write it up until it finishes on Thursday.
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([personal profile] unicornduke Aug. 26th, 2025 06:58 pm)
I'm trying to not be desperately irrationally angry about things but my mom just used my baking strainer for her farro because she thought it was hers and didn't apologize about it. I used it the other day when I was baking, and my mom will just move all my stuff out of the dish drainer and for some reason she thought it was hers and now she's used it and I'm really angry about it. I ONLY use it for baking, I have a separate, sturdier one for draining pasta and stuff. And now it's been used for heavier grains and also cross contaminated with wheat and I'm really not okay with this. she didn't know. but also she didn't question why it was in the dish drainer with all of my baking supplies and she hadn't used it in days and just 

arg

(I know it was mine because the strainer is coming apart in a specific spot)

I washed it once but I'm going to wash it again because I can't even deal with how much wheat there could be in all the little crevices. maybe I should just buy a new one. but I had trouble finding one with a good weave which is why I haven't gotten a new one before this
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-- no wait that's a lie, I also investigated an apple tree. (Unremarkable eating apples.)

But! Tomatoes!

a lap full of tomatoes, in reds and oranges and greens and golds and purpleish

Pictured varieties: Purple Ukraine, Blue Fire, misc green stripey, Orange Banana, Moneymaker. Buried so you can't see it is a Feo di Rio Gordo. I did not get the whole rainbow I was aiming for this year (alas the Yellow Pearshaped all failed, as did the Known green stripey), but I'm nonetheless pleased!

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([personal profile] kareina Aug. 26th, 2025 10:52 pm)
 I took my electric scooter over to the dentist today, and learned the hard way that it is too cold to be out with only a thin cashmere sweater as an outer layer if one is moving at 20 km/hr. Brrr.
Other accomplishments of the day include work, laundry, getting the dried black currants off of the old, kinda broken plastic trays they had stuck to, and ordering a new, larger, food dehydrator with stainless steel trays. It will be interesting to see how well it works.
 
I am also pleased that whatever caused the muscle aling the right side of my spine to hurt yesterday and this morning seems to have adjusted itself, as it is feeling much better.
 
 
The other day, my phrasing when I tried to describe what the Glass Heart actors are doing was not at all as clear as it should've been!

So: It's not that the main cast in this show are faking playing the instruments. It's that none of them are musicians at all, and they learned to play the specific material for the show well enough to visually pass not only as being able to play but as being very good (the male lead is explicitly a musical genius), with full shots of them doing bits of it rather than having body doubles or clever cuts or anything, AND doing some pretty heavy-lifting acting at the same time. (What I don't know is whether their performances pass as looking professional to actual professional musicians, but one of the supporting cast is an actual singer and seems pretty impressed with it.)

The making-of feature I linked in my last post is specifically about that aspect of the show/their performances.
([personal profile] cosmolinguist Aug. 26th, 2025 06:41 pm)

There's a scene in The Thick of It where someone (I think it's either Glen or Alex Macqueen's character Julius Nicholson) is looking for a radio to put the test match on, and Ollie scofffs that they should just listen online, and Glen says listening to radio online is like making coffee in the microwave.

I immediately loved this.

I can't tell you how it's perfect but it feels perfect.

Anyway my radio stopped working so I'm listening on my phone now and I think about this line all the goddam time.

As with coffee in the microwave, I'd probably rather have none at all than deal with this. It's bad because with the radio I could flip an actual tactile switch, I didn't even have to take my eyes off my work, and now I have to pick up the distraction rectangle and tap tap a bunch on its unhelpful featureless glass carapace to get the music back on, and by the time I've done that I am probably playing games or answering messages.

D had already looked up dab radios when mine started dying, but today he just sent me a link to one and said "I can buy this from Argos, we can pick it up today."

I was torn between finding this very charming and worrying that I'd become so annoying he just bought me a radio to stop my whining about it, heh.

All these terrible people whose weight the earth cannot afford, doing their best to take the rest of us with them to their Armageddon with the most toys, and not a one of them will ever be a tenth of a thousandth as cool as the living tradition of an epic poem performed with chugging guitar riffs: Exhibit A, Ereimang's "(Kwakta Lamjel)" (2023). All you fascists bound to be boring.

Woman on social media claiming that "Cancer is trying to heal, not kill.... A cancerous tumor is basically a bag the human body creates to collect toxins that are contaminating the bloodstream." (Apparently this goes back to 2021? still in circulation because I spotted it in the wild today.)

Apart from anything else here, I'm trying to think how this actually works - okay, it collects the toxins, but she was also saying you shouldn't have operations or get involved with, you know, that nasty actual medicine? In particular that biopsies are Really Really Bad and cause the tumour to explode and spread toxins throughout the body. (This notion derives from one book by a struck-off doc relating to his theories about needle biopsies in the specific case of prostate cancer.)

But what is the mechanism once it's collected the toxins? does it just sit there? does it detach and float away? really one has questions. Does one want a bag of toxins just hanging about on one's body? (Maybe a wartcharmer might be called for?)

I was reminded of the theory, current for centuries, that there was 'good' pus which aided in the healing of wounds, so surgeons were all 'yay laudable pus'.

I wonder if anyone, ever, had the theory re TB, that the consumptive coughing up blood was getting rid of 'bad blood'*, jolly good, restored health is on the way....

*I'm sure I've previously mention my paternal grandmother who was reassuring about my copious and not infrequent nosebleeds in childhood and adolescence on the grounds that it was getting rid of 'the bad blood'. Yes, historian of medicine wishes I'd done an oral history interview about these lingering remnants of humoural theory.

redbird: closeup of me drinking tea, in a friend's kitchen (Default)
([personal profile] redbird Aug. 26th, 2025 08:43 am)
Another collection of comments to other people’s journals:

[personal profile] elise was asking about "ways to learn to wanna when you're gonna hafta"

I said:

Sometimes I get things done by reminding myself that I don't have to want to do them, as long as they get done. Meaning that I'm not going to enjoy the task, but maybe I want to have done it, or maybe I'm leaning on bits of habit. That mostly works for small things: it's easier to think "don't have to like it, as long as it gets done" about relatively short things, like brushing my teeth, than about anything longer or more complicated.

Typing this, I realize that this is something I mostly do/need to do late in the day. Even with meds, I run out of executive function well before I run out of day (or evening).


[personal profile] cosmolinguist posted about feeling like everyone else hasn't just stopped talking about the pandemic, they're not thinking about it, and he quoted his manager saying "something like 'You're the only one who remembers covid.' Not in an accusing way or anything, just making an ob. Clearly based on the fact that I'm still masking and I've never seen any of my colleagues wear a mask at in-person gatherings."

My comment was:
As I said [on Mastodon], it reminds me of something Siderea posted about in 2018-19: a hundred years ago, in the 1920s, people didn't mention the Spanish Flu epidemic, even though flu was still killing a significant number of people every year (as it still is today). People did write about World War I, and men who died there, and there were novels about the young women who were never going to marry because of the gender imbalance, but it looked from 2018 as though there was an agreement or decision not to talk about the pandemic.

Six years ago, that seemed odd; four years ago, I was deliberately posting almost every day just so I would have a record of what those first months of the covid pandemic had been like.



A comment to [personal profile] buhrger, who lives in Alberta, about finding a new doctor:

It's not just your area, or province, that is short on doctors who are accepting new patients. A couple of months ago, we were talking to a friend of Adrian's, Ruth; they are both dissatisfied with their current doctor, but Ruth has had trouble finding another that she can get to reasonably. Oddly, I am seeing a nurse practitioner in that practice, and am entirely happy to keep seeing her, and not just because I don't want to roll the dice on someone else taking me and my combination of medical things seriously while still taking as given that I am a competent adult.


Comment to [personal profile] ambyr’s post about characters with an annoying sort of genre-awareness:

I haven’t read any Moreno-Garcia, but that shape of genre-awareness feels all wrong to me. I'm fine with characters having no idea they're in a horror novel, or a detective story, or whatever. And I'm fine with characters being aware if it's something like "if he's really a vampire, we should make sure all the doors are locked, buy some garlic, and not invite anyone inside," or with "there's no such thing as a vampire, what is this person really hiding?"

For example, I'm amused by the Terry Pratchett books where the characters know that million-to-one shots often work, so they're carefully trying to contrive those long odds against themselves before trying to do something like shoot a dragon. For me, that works in part because it's a given that the Discworld runs partly on Narrativium, and is out at the far end of some sort of probability curve.

"Don't separate the party" is a fiction-flavored way of saying :don't wander off" or "we should stay together" that doesn't require us to think we're actually in a work of fiction--but I would be annoyed by a book where the characters routinely said thet, and then someone ran off without saying anything or taking useful equipment entirely because the plot required it.


#burger and I were talking about (not) carrying cash:

If I’m out and about (not just going for a walk in the neighborhood) it’s usually for some sort of errand, and even if the main goal is to pick up a library book I’ll be passing shops and it often makes sense to go inside: maybe this branch of CVS has the specific earplugs I’m looking for, maybe the supermarket will have good berries.

That’s separate from the fact that I carry cash and credit card in the same wallet as my ID and other useful cards including my transit pass. Some of that is just-in-case planning: if one kind of thing goes wrong, I may need ny health insurance card. If I’m picking up certain prescriptions, they want me to show ID.

But mostly, having enough cash to get home in case I lose, or someone steals, my wallet is an old, ingrained habit. Once upon a time, that meant always having a subway token and a coin for a pay phone. Now, I keep a $5 bill in my daypack, and one in each of my coats that has a zipper pocket. It’s a firm enough habit that the daypack also has a Canadian $5 bill, just in case. (I didn't put a five-pound note in my pack when we were in London. Maybe I should have.)
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([personal profile] james_davis_nicoll Aug. 26th, 2025 08:50 am)


A collection of speculative fiction stories from Walter Jon WIlliams.

Facets by Walter Jon Williams
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([personal profile] cmcmck Aug. 26th, 2025 12:26 pm)
We've travelled through Plymouth many a time and changed trains at the station but we've never actually spent time taking a look at the city.

It was well worth the time to do so.

We explored the old seaport area, the Barbican and also the Hoe.

There is one heck of a lot of history to the place.

The Dolphin hotel is a pub with a very fine frontage:


More pics: )
oursin: Brush the Wandering Hedgehog by the fire (Default)
([personal profile] oursin Aug. 26th, 2025 09:52 am)
Happy birthday, [personal profile] hivesofactivity!
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([personal profile] conuly Aug. 25th, 2025 12:02 am)
And I have so little interest in washing them.

**********************************


Read more... )
The swallows have returned to Capistrano: last night there were three student parties on our street alone and a fourth around the corner. We are waiting to see if this weekend will bring a new installment of upstairs neighbors.

I opened the refrigerator door and the Brita pitcher fell off its shelf and disintegrated itself in several gallons across the hardwood, so the first thing I did within two minutes of getting up was essentially wash the kitchen floor. I spent the afternoon drying a load of towels and drinking cans of seltzer.

It jarred out of my head too much of the dream I had just woken up from, the slippage of a kitchen sink drama written by a less commonly revived playwright than Shelagh Delaney: a teenage girl and her father who was just about the same age when she was born and still has such a fecklessly fox-boned, adolescent look himself, the two of them as they knock about town, him getting into more fights than holding down jobs, always telling the secret histories of their city which sound half like industrial legend and half like he just made them up, are more often mistaken for a couple than his actual girlfriend with whom he seems to interact most in the form of sincerely less successful apologies. They are clearly each other's half of a double star, a nearly closed system without jealousy, only the exhilaratingly irresponsible habit of dodging the adult world as if it were the two of them against it. It is unsensationally apparent to the audience long before it would cross any other character's mind that in addition to his total improvisation of parenting, he is doing his damnedest not to pass on the next generation of his own implicitly incestuous abuse, which does him credit and gives him little help in figuring out how to support his daughter through a transition he never quite managed himself. Toward the end, it started to flicker between stage sets and the plain world, between rehearsals and history. "I won't meet you," I had to tell the actor, standing in between scenes outside the year of the original production, the same fragile shoulders and thistle-blond hair of his photographs in the role: he would be dead decades before I heard of the play, much less managed to track a copy down. I could tell him that his children had gone into the arts. Onstage she was outgrowing his frozen boyishness and if he could catch up to her, he would still have to let her go.

[personal profile] asakiyume linked Residente's "This is Not America (feat. Ibeyi)" (2022) and it made me think of Elizma's "Modern Life" (2025), both of which should come with content warnings for current events.

I have discovered that BBC Sounds became region-locked about a month ago, which means that one of my major sources for randomly discoverable audio drama seems to have spiraled down the drain. I am completely indifferent to podcasts. I am a simple person and just wanted to listen again to Lieutenant Commander Thomas Woodrooffe being just as lit up as the fleet.
([personal profile] cosmolinguist Aug. 25th, 2025 09:33 pm)

Hardly slept again last night.

Went for a bike ride and a couple of pints with D this evening so I am actually feeling tired now for the first time in many days.

Really hoping this means I'll sleep. Gotta actually go to work tomorrow, and I have obligations after work too so it'll be a long day if I'm as brainfoggy and exhausted as I was today or especially Saturday.

It was a lovely day: perfect weather. Really glad I got to be outside: we went to the garden center this afternoon too; spring bulbs are in and V wasn't able to get any last year so I'm glad they did this year. We also got tea and really tasty cake as they were having a pop-up cafe fundraiser.

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calimac: (Haydn)
([personal profile] calimac Aug. 25th, 2025 09:11 pm)
It's time for the triennial Banff International String Quartet Competition, and I am not there in the Canadian Rockies, I'm at home watching/listening to the concerts on livestream.

For today's concerts, four of the competing quartets played one Joseph Haydn quartet and one work from the 21st century - it's a quarter-over now, there's enough music to choose from. Each work was of the group's choice. Tomorrow, the other five groups will have their chance.

What's great about listening to Haydn at Banff is that all the groups are good, but for different definitions of what's good. They all had distinctive styles. I was particularly impressed by the Quatuor Elmire in Op. 76/5. It was an old-fashioned performance, but sumptuously beautiful, especially the slow movement. Those tend to be the dull spots in Haydn performances, but here it was the highlight for elegance. The minuet also, courtly and graceful, and the rest of the same caliber.

But the best was probably the Nerida Quartet in Op. 54/2. They were the ones who found the wit and joy in Haydn, bouncing it along in a lively manner. Their slow movement was of organ-like sonorities behind first violin Jeffrey Armstrong presenting some spectacular displays. The Neridas looked like they were enjoying themselves, too, which is not an insignificant contribution to the whole, especially those lively facial expressions on second violinist Saskia Niehl.

The Viatores Quartet had a light and airy approach, particularly unusual since their work, Op. 33/1, is in a minor key. Except for the fast part of the finale, where they alternated between that style and a darker and grittier one. The Quartett HANA played Op. 74/1 in a more modern, rougher style, but they came first and I missed that part of the livestream, only watching it later on repeat, and by that time I was getting tired, so I didn't really absorb it.

The Elmire, who are French, chose a French composition for their 21C piece, the Fifth Quartet of Pascal Dusapin. I don't know his work, but it seemed to me that they brought the same sweet and gentle approach, rather against the grain of the music. This microtonal and rather querulous work was worth hearing once, but not twice. The HANA, on the same concert, also played it, but I skipped out on their rendition.

Nerida won my favor by playing Caroline Shaw's Entr'acte. I've heard this before, and Shaw is one of my favorite living composers. This performance seemed to me to emphasize the minimalist roots, with violist Grace Leehan sawing away in a Philip Glass style while the rest played holding chord sequences.

But the Viatores dismayed me with Jörg Widmann's Hunting Quartet. I'd heard this at BISQC once before, nine years ago when I was there in person. I thought this parody of 18C music consisting of making the instruments play very badly was a worthless piece of merde the first time, and my opinion hasn't gone up much. Widmann is not always a bad composer: it's just that he likes to follow entirely different compositional procedures on successive pieces, and this one didn't work.

I'm excited with what's in store for tomorrow.
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([personal profile] sonia Aug. 25th, 2025 08:43 pm)
Long ago and just up the hill, I went to an estate sale for someone I wish I had known while she was alive. Her shoes fit me. Her pants fit me. I got a great silverware set I'm still using to supplement the set of 8 each that weren't quite enough.

Her set had 16 each of knives, forks, and tea spoons. I didn't need that many, so I stashed away 8 of each, wrapped up in a piece of fabric, deep in the back of a cabinet. Recently, I was drinking enough tea with honey that I was running out of spoons between dishwasher runs.

Yes, I could and did hand-wash spoons, but where were the backup spoons? I could clearly visualize them in the back of a cabinet - in Portland. Had I gotten rid of them? I looked through all the kitchen cabinets I have now, and didn't see them. I must have passed them along when I got rid of so much stuff before moving.

I did some internet research to see if I could buy some matching spoons, but didn't see anything I wanted to order. Back to hand-washing.

Yesterday, I was looking deep in a kitchen cabinet for a container - and there was the fabric-wrapped bundle of backup silverware. Behold the extra spoons! Now that it's summer I'm not drinking as much tea, but it's good to know the whole set made the move with me. And maybe it will give me more spoons (in the spoonie sense).

A while ago I was looking everywhere for the small black folding umbrella that I use about once every 3 years. (I'm a hooded jacket kinda gal. Umbrellas don't work with bikes.) I dug through various drawers full of outdoor stuff and backpacks, looked everywhere it should and shouldn't be, and didn't turn it up. I guess I got rid of it? I liked it, though. A rarely used umbrella should be tiny and unobtrusive. I finally bought another small-ish black folding umbrella and put it where the first one should have been, in the bin of hats and scarves.

Today I got out a backpack I hadn't used in a while. It felt oddly heavy, so I felt around in its depths. Oh! The umbrella! Completely hidden down there. I put it with the other one in the hat bin. Maybe I'll have a guest who needs to borrow an umbrella someday.

At least I hadn't replaced the spoons. So far, past me didn't get rid of anything I really regret. I've always been good at remembering where things are, but I did lose track of some things in the big move.
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redbird: closeup of me drinking tea, in a friend's kitchen (Default)
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