7/4

forget 'bout Trenton. .

The Kronos Quartet: An otherwordly experience By NICK ROGERS A&E EDITOR Thursday, March 13, 2008 If ever the continuing wonder of the universe needed proof, consider this: Its sounds can surprise even someone who owns a recording of beetles chewing up pine forests in the Southwest. David Harrington, violinist and artistic director for the Kronos Quartet, owns many nature recordings but until 2000 had not heard something literally out of this world: outer-space "sound." "My first thought was that I didn't know there were sounds in outer space because there's no oxygen out there," Harrington says of a cassette tape he received from NASA. "And then I thought, 'Well, I have to hear this.'" "Recorded" by plasma-wave receivers attached to Voyager spacecraft and the Hubble space telescope, the "sounds" were mixed to human-friendly frequencies by NASA and put on cassette. Whether it sounded like a Moog synthesizer, R2-D2's nervous squiggle, serene birds, prolonged explosive blasts or the garbled electronic junk at the end of "Mr. Roboto," what Harrington "heard" actually were reverberations generated from pockets of plasma gas. The gas gets so hot that individual atoms separate into particles that can help propagate sound and radio waves. Rarely must Harrington reconcile astronomical rules with musical aesthetics, but "Sun Rings" is an altogether different project, even for his avant garde string quartet. Commissioned by NASA and composed by longtime Kronos collaborator Terry Riley, "Sun Rings" is a 10-movement, multi-sensory examination of the universe using instrumental strings, singing, the spoken word and extraterrestrial images and "sounds." Under the direction of Marion van der Loo, the Springfield Choral Society will join Harrington, violinist John Sherba, violist Hank Dutt and cellist Jeffrey Zeigler for Tuesday's performance. Harrington says "Sun Rings" isn't all science-fiction blips and squeaks. "Nature does sometimes sound differently than you might expect it to," Harrington says. "There are beautiful melodies that Terry took from the hours of music and sound he listened to." "Sunrise of the Planetary Dream Collector" was the first piece Riley composed for Kronos, so it seemed only natural that the quartet would send "Sun Rings" his way. "I had known Terry was very interested in cosmology and various alternative ways of looking at the world that you don't normally think about," Harrington says. Riley's many influences include the work of Pandit Pran Nath, a Pakistani classical singer. Onstage, when the quartet triggers prerecorded samples by running hands over sensors, it's Pran Nath's physical manifestations of raga (an Indian melodic practice) that they're channeling. "'Sun Rings' is quite embracing of all Terry's styles — Indian, jazz, minimalism — that you can see everywhere he's gone with this piece," Dutt says. Riley began working on the piece in August 2001 and, as Harrington says, "totally started over" after 9/11 — creating something that offers a greater appreciation of what humans have on Earth. "As a listener, and a performer, I feel there's this opportunity to think about the world we're all a part of, and I come away from it feeling energized and almost recommitted, really, to the power of what a musical experience can be," Harrington says. "I think (Terry) wanted to look at man from the universe's perspective, and that's actually a very humbling experience," Dutt says. "And it's more peaceful than anything." Both men emphasize that Riley's music alone isn't enough to do "Sun Rings" justice. Willie Williams, architect of the piece's visual design, incorporated abstract and actual images of outer space, as well as sketches from the Voyager missions' "golden record" — informational material about Earth and humans meant for use by anything encountered along the way. Aliens, that is. "To see those images is very inspiring," Dutt says of the diagrams and photographs designed by mankind with confidence that extraterrestrial life could be found and educated about our way of life. Tethering "Sun Rings" to earthbound life forms, Riley incorporated choral work into several movements. The choral society will perform during "Earth Whistlers" and the two-part "Prayer Central." "It's a crazy piece, but a fun piece," says van der Loo, the society's conductor and music director. "It's probably some of, if not the, most difficult music I've ever taught a chorus. It's extremely complex rhythmically, not just measure to measure but insofar as that one voice sings one part of a measure, and another voice comes in on the offbeat. And there are lots of shifting tonalities." "Earth Whistlers" includes what van der Loo calls a mixture of "nonsense syllables" and words, all sung in unison by the chorus's women. And she views "Prayer Central" as a "'60s-ish" kind of text, with its talk of togetherness, kindness and Buddhist detachment from material things. During those movements, van der Loo also will conduct the quartet. "It's a once-in-a-lifetime experience for all of us," van der Loo says. "These guys (from Kronos) are first-rate. They've flown all over the world, and to be there in the pit with them is both terrifying and thrilling." For van der Loo, the image that defines the mission of "Sun Rings" is that of Earth from the Hubble telescope — hanging vulnerable in the middle of vastness. "There's a quote in the Book of Common Prayer which refers to 'this fragile Earth, our island home.' Earth is fragile physically, geologically, socially, economically and racially. It's an extremely tentative place," van der Loo says. "It's just an amazing thing in this dark universe to have this hub of humanity … and you see how important it is for people to sort of link arms in order to hold the whole thing together." http://www.sj-r.com/Entertainment/stories/26750.asp

Van Halen's ex: He's not in rehab Published: March 12, 2008 at 9:36 PM LOS ANGELES, March 12 (UPI) -- Eddie Van Halen did not postpone numerous U.S. dates on his concert tour because he is in rehab, his ex-wife, Valerie Bertinelli, has said. "The reports about him being in rehab are wrong. Eddie is sober," Bertinelli told People.com Wednesday. "He's being proactive about his illness." Bertinelli declined to offer any details regarding Van Halen's ailment or condition, however. "I don't think it's my place (to comment,)" she told the magazine. "I talk to him about every other day. He wants to get back on tour. I think they'll be back on the road by April 19." The band announced on its Web site this week that it was temporarily suspending its tour because Van Halen is under doctors' care and undergoing tests. The message said the band planned to resume its tour April 19 and would announce rescheduled dates shortly. Bertinelli and Van Halen have a 16-year-old son, Wolfgang, who is touring with the band as its bassist.

sounds messy. .

I guess there's a few items: Miles Davis Jack Johnson & The Complete On The Corner Sessions Derek Bailey - Standards (Tzadik) The original Invite the Spirit (Tzadik) Giacinto Scelsi - The Piano Works 2 (Mode) Charlemagne Palestine - A Sweet Quasimodo… (Cold Blue 0025) John Cage/Elliott Carter/Terry Riley - Changes Chances (Stradivarius 33749; Italy) Sorabji Cage/Feldman - Music for Keyboard 1935–1948/The Early Years YOSHI WADA - Lament For The Rise and Fall of Elephantine Crocodile Kyle Gann - Private Dances (New Albion 137; USA) Cheb I Sabba - new album ...but nothing too pressing. I could go insane buying modern composer CDs, but I'm trying to restrain myself.

particularly if those works generate income. .

Sounds good to me, I don't really want to buy a copy. .

As simple as - it's too sleepy for you? I kinda like that album. .

I still haven't read the book. Don't even own a copy. .

Woah! Wouldn't that be somethin'.

Have you been drinking again Bill? .

We're getting splattered with paint here. .

What to Get L. Ron Hubbard for His Birthday How “Anonymous” has changed the game of exposing Scientology's ruthless global scam by Tony Ortega, VVoice March 11th, 2008 12:11 AM L. Ron Hubbard, the pulp fiction writer who gave the world Battlefield Earth, as well as a nuisance known as Scientology, would have turned 97 years old this Thursday, March 13. Ron’s been worm food for more than a score of years now, so it probably won’t matter to him that the best birthday party being held in his name will take place a couple of days late. On Saturday, March 15, the surprisingly upstart, leaderless movement known as “Anonymous” will be holding its second worldwide anti-Scientology protests at Hubbard sites in more than a dozen countries. The grassroots, Internet-based group seemed to materialize out of thin air just a few weeks ago, and it’s difficult to tell whether the surprising success of its February 10 rallies—which were held from Oslo to Sydney—will spark even more rallies beyond this weekend. The February protests featured a lot of twentysomethings, for the most part, carrying anti-Scientology signs, and wearing masks to protect their anonymity (Guy Fawkes masks were popular) in places like New York, Boston, London, and Toronto. This time, they say, they’re bringing cake and candles. Anonymous has actually been around for a while, wreaking havoc like a bunch of drunken teenagers on numerous Internet locations since 2006. And at first, it approached Scientology the same way, like reckless hackers and pinheads. But thanks in part to the calm words of someone I used to write about when I covered Scientology in Los Angeles, Mark Bunker (now known as ‘Wise Beard Man’ to the protesters), Anonymous quickly grew up and started taking a more Gandhi-inspired approach to opposing Hubbard’s weird cult. This recent targeting of Scientology sprung up after several years of the worst press Hubbard’s followers had ever endured. From the time Tom Cruise appeared to lose his mind leaping all over Oprah Winfrey’s couch in 2005, to his knockout nine-minute video not meant for public consumption that appeared in January, Cruise and Scientology have been reeling from one PR disaster to the next. And now it seems as if everybody and his brother is writing about Scientology, ridiculing Hubbard, making fun of "Xenu" and "e-meters" and "going clear," and laughing at John Travolta and Kirstie Alley and Leah Rimini and Cruise. A decade ago, I hardly would have believed it. Not that I’m complaining. I much prefer it this way. Back then, I was one of a small number of journalists who tried to communicate to the larger public what was alarming and nonsensical and simply inane about Scientology and its status as a “church.” Other, braver, journalists had been doing the same for decades. There was Paulette Cooper, for example, who occasionally sent me encouraging e-mails when my stories came out, and who had suffered like no other (you can look it up). I’m not claiming that my colleagues and I did the kind of pioneering research that Paulette and others did in the 1970s and 1980s. But still, just ten years ago, it was a very different environment. Even then, you didn’t look into the secrets of the church without having at least some second thoughts about what it might mean to take on Hubbard’s dim minions. But it felt worthwhile. When you got past the typical American reluctance to criticize or even discuss the particulars of another’s religion, listeners at cocktail parties would be mesmerized to hear that only 10 percent of Scientology’s adherents, for example, have been let in on the church’s origin story. As I put it in a story back in the day: Imagine the Roman Catholic church withholding the contents of the Book of Genesis from 90 percent of its 900 million worldwide adherents. That's 810 million Catholics kept in the dark about "Let there be light," Adam and Eve, and the rest of the Christian origin saga. And imagine that the Catholic church called Genesis a "trade secret" that could only be revealed to Catholics who had spent years, and hundreds of thousands of dollars, obtaining the correct level of experience to be allowed to read their own religion's version of how the universe started and where people came from. That’s what, for me, separated Scientology from the rest, what put the lie to claims (sometimes from mushy-headed religion professors) that Hubbard’s was a legitimate “church.” What other “religion” wanted $100,000 and several years of dedication before a member learned its most basic beliefs? And Scientology can’t afford to be more forthcoming: Who would join if they knew they were going to spend that kind of money (and shun other family members and completely build their lives around Scientology) in order to rid their bodies of invisible space-alien parasites? No wonder such details aren’t mentioned during the most basic Scientology come-on, the free “personality test” you get in the subway. So yes, I’m looking forward to this Saturday’s shindig for the commodore. Hubbard was an attention whore, so he might not really disapprove. And while I’m counting heads at the local rally, I’ll probably feel some nostalgia for an earlier time, when there were much fewer of us trying to get at the truth. Back in 1999 I was working for a newspaper in Los Angeles that no longer exists. Scientology was a wonderful subject for an eager reporter: It was nefarious as hell, operating more like the mafia than a religion, and at the same time breathtakingly stupid: Besides its core beliefs about a galactic overlord and disembodied aliens inhabiting the human body, adherents are convinced that Ron’s talking cure will lead them to become clairvoyants able to leave their bodies at will, which, as Cruise pointed out, makes them excellent first responders to auto accidents. And believe me, there’s far weirder stuff that was committed to paper by a burnt-out, pill-popping pulp fiction writer with a messiah complex named Lafayette Ronald Hubbard, who had demanded that his followers sign billion-year contracts so that they’d continue to serve him lifetime after lifetime (Hubbard’s own lifetime ended in 1986). Wading into this stuff was too much fun. And at that time, my New Times Los Angeles colleague Ron Russell and I had little competition. Scientology was centered in Los Angeles (its other headquarters is in Florida), but after the Los Angeles Times had done a major, multi-part exposé in 1989, the paper had given up covering the cult almost completely. Other publications were aware that after Time magazine took its own shot in 1990, calling Scientology a “ruthless global scam,” the church had filed a libel lawsuit asking for hundreds of millions of dollars, and nine years later the case was still unresolved (it was ultimately dismissed). With the Time suit still pending, most publications were wary of Scientology’s litigious reputation. Other than Richard Leiby, a Washington Post reporter who was doing excellent work, Russell and I practically had the Scientology investigative field to ourselves for a few years. Russell, for example, wrote a mind-blowing piece about how Scientology officials took advantage of a brain-damaged man, convincing the poor sucker to invest some of the millions he’d received for his injury in a non-existent ostrich-egg business. (I shit you not.) My favorite experience was writing about a woman named Tory Christman (Tory Bezazian then), a 30-year Scientologist who had rather spectacularly defected from the church in the middle of a Usenet slugfest after secretly reaching out to one of the cult’s biggest detractors, the operator of Xenu.net. That story, “Sympathy for the Devil,” lives on in cyberspace, even though the newspaper I wrote it for no longer does. In another story, we put the lie to the church’s claim that it no longer practices “fair game"—L. Ron’s famous edict that his troops should engage in dirty tricks to bury its perceived enemies. In “Double Crossed,” we detailed one of the most hellacious cases of fair game in recent years, the smearing of attorney Graham Berry with the use of a coerced, false affidavit claiming that Berry was a pederast who went after boys as young as 12. When the man who made that false affidavit, Robert Cipriano, was sued by Berry in a defamation suit, the church, in order to keep him from recanting his false claims, offered to represent him in the lawsuit for free, donated thousands to Cipriano’s nonprofit projects, and even got him a house, a car, and a job at Earthlink (which had been founded by Scientologists). You can see the story here. Berry’s experience, as well as that of others (Google “Keith Henson,” kids), made it plain that if you opposed Scientology, you had to be very careful not to give the church a way to claim victim status. Which is exactly what Anonymous didn’t do. After the Cruise video, meant only for other delusional Scientologists and not the rest of the world, showed up in January on the Internet, the church went into attack mode, trying to shut down every copy. (Gawker’s Nick Denton has done the world a service by keeping the video up and flipping Scientology the bird. See it here.) That in turn inspired Anonymous, which has a thing about Internet censorship. But the nameless group of geeks initially took a hacker’s approach, hitting Scientology sites with various tactics to shut them down. For longtime critics like Mark Bunker, it was a nightmare. with a video of himself, explaining in a sort of open letter that Anonymous was ruining the work that he and others have been doing for decades. By pranking and vandalizing Scientology sites, Anonymous was only giving the church the ability to claim that it was being victimized. The moral high ground, in other words, had been lost. Bunker’s simple video—a bearded older guy sitting in front of his computer and talking into a web cam—seemed to have a major effect, resulting in the peaceful protests of February 10. Will the Anonymous phenomenon continue to grow? And how, given its past, will Anonymous be able to police its own, so that some of its “members” don’t revert to reckless antics? Scientology, no doubt, will continue to claim that it’s a victim of religious bigots. It always has. But at the least, it’s good to see so many people a little more aware of what Hubbardism is all about, even if it means I’ll have to come up with something else as cocktail party patter. Hell, everyone seems to know about Xenu by now. Link. Other relevant threads here and here.

about $2.97 here.

Yes indeed. Doesn't seem like a very bright move...good thing you changed your mind.

The Naxos is a licensed version of the Koch recording. It's the same thing. I wish I'd remembered that when I bought the Naxos version.

Forthcoming Recordings I think the major news is all the Hat Hut reissues that are coming out. ART 4-154 For Philip Guston (reissue of ART CD 4-6104) ART 155 Trio (reissue of ART CD 6195) ART 156 Piano, Violin, Viola, Cello (reissue of ART CD 6158) ART 157 Clarinet and String Quartet (reissue of ART CD 6166) I already own the original releases.

. Once bread become toast, it can never go back. .

. .