There are so many intelligent and articulate people covering the hard-hitting
issues in our country these days, that I felt it was my duty to cover the
rather inconsequential bullshit that tends to make up the vast majority of
our lives. Actually, I'll just be griping a lot which, if you weren't aware,
doubles as a synonym for complaining, and as a descriptor for
a sharp pain in the bowels.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Music for the Reign of Rain

Well mf's, it's raining out, at least it is here in Chicago. I don't know if that's why I'm in quite a mood for some fresh (actually they're really old, but the sound is fresh if you catch my drift — speaking of which, there are rumors of snow later in the week, whaaaaaaaaaat), but at any rate I am. At any rate has been my phrase of choice for a while now. There is a name for those phrases and modifiers that maintain the flow of writing, specifically boring writing. Looking back, all of those standard essay paragraph beginners (since I can't remember the name of the thing that they really are — my brain is not firing on all cylinders here) are quite horrendous. However, moreover, furthermore, this has the effect of, and in conclusion I don't think formal writing has to be boring, but so often it is. If you find my regular posts, boring, beware, the following is me gushing over some dope classical celloness.

Classical jams though. I believe most of you will find yourself familiar with Bach's Cello Suite No. 1, consciously or not. What I am linking then are several of the greatest cellists performing this piece that I have a strong liking for. The first is Mischa Maisky. He may seem a little emotionless in his appearance at first (not compared to Rostropovich though, who I will link next) but I think the tilt of his eyes belies a certain otherworldly focus or accessing of brain. He produces a rich, beautiful sound, and a great rendition of the classic. I also just love the room he is performing in, complete with its little pedestal. And shit, he's from Latvia, where I derive a quarter of my blood.

Next up is the technical proficiency of Rostropovich. He plays the piece with alarming speed and, again, technical mastery. And though it could be described as more emotionless than Maisky, I find very impressive the relaxed wrist and little evidence of outward physical exertion, while producing as pure a sound as he does. It's the kind of thing where, when it looks so effortless for the performer you might not realize how amazing their performance actually is.

And then there is the one cellist that people who really do not know classical music (heck I am very amateur in my knowledge) still know: it's good old Yo-Yo Ma. That clip is a little silly in parts and there is some weird clicking sound at times, but man can that dude play.

I must also reference the cello concertos composed by Edward Elgar because good lord are they delightful. I'm not saying when you listen to Yo-Yo and the Chicago Symphony Orchestra rock this that all kinds of emotion will sweep over you, but it probably kind of should. This shit murders me. And for posterity, you should hear the late, great Jacqueline du Pré perform as well. I don't think either of these quite capture the auditory magnitude and ass-whoopingness of this piece, but you also won't have abundant opportunity to see this live. I would highly suggest you buy/download the album though as the sound will make you shit your pants (in a good way).

If this weren't already so long I would make fun of a Hallmark film meant to portray running that just completely bastardizes and makes a mockery of the pursuit. You can look forward to that in the coming days, or look backward at some old posts or, better yet, read a quality blog or some real news.

In the middle of March Madness, there was a ridiculous conclusion to this Spanish League game.

At any rate (tee-hee), stay fresh.

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