Category Archives: Links

Review: A Wood Engraver’s Alphabet by G. Brender à Brandis

Author: Gerard Brender à Brandis
Title: A Wood Engraver’s Alphabet
Publisher: The Porcupine’s Quill
Media type: Trade paperback, 64 pages
Release date: August 2008
Reading period: November 2008
ISBN-13: 978-0-889843110
Category: Art; Alphabet books

The first thing that strikes you about A Wood Engraver’s Alphabet is that it is a beautifully made book. The texture of the cover and the paper delight both hands and eyes. The paper is a warm ecru colour and of very heavy weight, an excellent ground on which to display the prints. The play between dark and light in the prints themselves is fascinating. Brender à Brandis creates an incredible amount of visual texture and suggestion of different materials (wood, petal, stalk, leaf, ground cover, stamens) in his engravings. The end papers are a green between olive and moss, and the signatures are sewn, not glued.

This book is Gerard Brender à Brandis’ love letter to the botanicals in his world. The form is a simple alphabet book, but instead of illustrating the letter itself the artist has chosen to create a wood engraving of a plant whose name begins with that letter. On the lower edge of the blank left page, facing the print on the opposite page, the name of the plant is displayed, both the common name and the botanical name. The engravings themselves on the right page vary in size and shape, and in placement on the page. Some are slender tall rectangles; others are squares. In each the delicate, lyrical interplay between negative and positive space, between black and white, creates depth and light. Some almost fill the right page, while others seem to float in a vast ecru frame.

I have only one minor quibble with the book, and it rests in the choice of plant for certain illustrations. At times the plant is chosen for its Latin name, other times for its common name, yet other times for the colour. For example, ‘Nodding Trillium’ illustrates the letter N instead of T, as one would expect. And yet the quibble is so very minor, because the subjects Brender à Brandis has chosen to engrave offer so much visual interest that in the end what they are or what they’re called doesn’t matter. If he was called or inspired to illustrate a certain plant instead of something else, then there was a reason for it, and the result is so beautiful that the quibble is forgotten in the subsequent examination of the artwork.

What I appreciated most was the brief introduction written by Brender à Brandis, which talked about the physical process of production and his creative artistic process. He talks about being led to use certain woods for certain engravings, how he chose what plants to engrave, and the delight humanity takes in flowers,

It’s a slender little paperbound volume priced at $16.95. The production quality is very high. It’s an exquisite little art book that would make a lovely gift for someone interested in engraving or for a lover of botanicals. It does require a relaxed and open mind when one sits down to read it, however, and plenty of time to pore over the engravings. I will absolutely go on to look up Brender à Brandis’ other books, particularly A Gathering of Flowers from Shakespeare.

Many thanks to Mini Book Expo and The Porcupine’s Quill, through whom I acquired the review copy of this book.

Publisher web site: http://www.sentex.net/~pql
Author web site: n/a

Orchestra Video

I debated about posting this, but why not.

Someone made a video recording of about half of the recent LCO fall concert. It’s broken into approximately eight-minute long sections, so you can see the first and second part of the three-movement Mozart Divertimento (the second part covers the second and third movements), the lovely Adagio for Clarinet and Strings (the so-called “Wagner adagio”, which has some nice close-ups of Martine’s hands for you clarinet players out there), and the Haydn Symphony 104 in D major (first part, second part, third part, and fourth part). I wish I could say each part actually corresponds to a movement, but they don’t. The first part is most of the first movement, the second part is the end of the first and most of the second, the third is the rest of the second and the full minuet/trio, and the fourth is the fourth movement in its entirety.

Why did I consider not posting this? Well, mainly due to the fact that the sound is awful. It’s very flat and quite distorted. (Although I recognise that not all the distortion is due to the recording. Ahem.) The balance is completely off, and things are very muddy. Hand-held video cameras just aren’t designed to record such a wide range of sound level, especially from that distance in a very echoey venue. And as such, it isn’t particularly complimentary. But it’s an idea of what went on. Also, it’s fun to see what the audience members are doing while we play. (I was amused by the people nodding and tapping their programmes during the minuet, and by the kids.)

And yes, I am cleverly hidden by my teacher’s scroll most of the time through the Mozart and the Adagio! Although the videographer seems to have moved forward for the first two-thirds of the symphony and therefore there is a better view of me from a three-quarter back angle in those recordings. (And thus my pathological avoidance of vibrato has been preserved for prosperity. I’m working on that now in my lessons.) Also, good gods, does my left hand always look that spidery?

This is the first half of the programme. I wonder if the videographer recorded the last half, and if it will be posted.

Hello, World: A Rare Weekend Post

I just wanted to share this little fact with you: Life is okay. In fact, it is verging on Downright Good.

The gathering at the Fearsranch was much lower-key that initially advertised. First of all, there were three or four people missing, which made things so very much easier for me. And second, everyone was tired, it being the end of a week and after long amounts of travel on pretty much everyone’s part. The fact that every single individual I met in person for the first time was Made of Good Stuff helped immensely, too. Everyone was Made of Win. I expected this of Bodhifox, my main reason for being there, who felt exactly the same in-person as he does in his journal and over e-mail, but I didn’t have more than a passing familiarity with the others and no expectations whatsoever (beyond “eep people I do not know”). So Made of Win was a good thing. And my flatlining wasn’t as much of a handicap as I’d feared.

There was food. There was drumming. There was cask-strength Macallan. There was a lovely huge bonfire. There was good sleep. There was glorious sun, and breakfast, and discussions about house building (and oven-building and erecting mead halls and rebuilding the front porch), and sad goodbyes said. And there is photographic evidence plus summary and another decent summary the likes of which I don’t have the brainpower to pull off.

Pretty much the only bad thing that happened was I somehow flipped my knitting around and knit three or four rounds before realising it. I pulled the circular needles out and discovered that my swatch had lied to me (with great huge lies! I will never trust yarn again!) and if I had in fact finished the hat the way it was dear Mousme would be wearing it around her shoulders instead of her head. So I pulled the whole thing apart and cast on forty less stitches, and now I have five inches of hat and just made my first ever decrease! Had the Dreadful Thing occurred at home I would have gone ballistic, but the combination of being exhausted and happy and being elsewhere made everything all right.

We’re making pulled barbecue pork for dinner, and feeding a couple of friends whom we called on the off chance they were free (this will never work — you are? yay!). We came home from the Fearsranch with perry (pear cider, with which I am in love), and there is beer now too. I intend to bake Brie. No, I don’t understand it in the least. I’m exhausted. I should be comatose and unable to function. But somehow the night out with excellent people and the subsequent breakfast revived me. HRH and I are considering monthly or bi-monthly Friday night escapes, if they’re this good. And when you get home it’s only early Saturday afternoon, so you still have half a day plus another whole day of weekend.

And now I am going to go knit some more. I wonder if I’ll get to the double-pointed needles part of the project today. At this rate Mousme will certainly have the hat by Yule, and possibly much earlier. (Yes, I was worried about that before. But removing forty stitches from a round makes things progress so much faster.)

Skiving

I have sneaked away from my laptop to come check out what the Internet’s doing behind my back. So far this assignment is going well. It’s a good product, and unless it jumps the shark in the next forty pages I’ll be able to give it a thumbs up and send it along to the correct department after writing up the evaluation tomorrow.

I must absolutely post this, as the crossover between book-lovers and music-lovers among my Gentle Readers is vast: Bookride Provides a List of Literary Rock Band Names. In other words, bands who have taken their names from books in some way, either title or character of phrase or whatnot. Tons of fun. More provided by commenters below the actual post.

ETA @ 2:45: Finished the rough draft of the review at twoish! Huzzah! And then Jan arrived and there is tea and there are scones and things are very good. So all I need to do is polish it and submit it tomorrow. This leaves me lots of time for writing, because I have goals for the month that I want to meet.

PSA For Music-Types

In my zealous search for something that will distract me from my valid and time-sensitive work, I went looking for cello-friendly sheet music for “Gaudete” and “In the Bleak Midwinter.” Because I don’t have enough music to occupy me, evidently. I woke up thinking that “Midwinter” would sound absolutely gorgeous on solo cello, and “Gaudete” popped into my head too, likely as a result of one of the songs on the new Loreena McKennitt album that has the word in it. The version I want, though, is the trad. anon. one covered by Steeleye Span.

Going through regular sheet music purchase sites was useless. Then I found ChristmasCarolMusic.org. Gentle readers, it has just about everything you can think of in almost any arrangement that you might ever want for the season. Lyrics, vocal/melody line, guitar chords, instrumental parts for C, F, Bb, and Eb instruments that all work together… you name it. Everything in public domain, that is, which covers a decent cross-section of traditional Christmas stuff. Including “Gaudete” and “Midwinter.” Bless them.

So there, that is my Good Deed for the day: sharing a link with you.

I really ought to work.

Resigned

I’ve just written, translated, and sent off the regretful decline of the reconstruction quote for the Mystery Cello. I’ve been putting it off because I haven’t wanted to formally call an end (albeit temporary) to the dream. But it’s been a month (not that I intended to let it languish that long in my inbox, dear god, where did November go? scratch that, where did 2008 go?) and it’s irresponsible to let the affair drag on any longer.

So I wrote a thank you and and an explanation of why we had to wait, and reinitialized my search for a 7/8. I should put my 4/4 up for sale as well to free up more money, but I’m enjoying the sound it makes in my lessons and I’m clingy when it comes to things like big resonant instruments that have been my companion for fifteen years. My teacher has assured me that if it sells before I’ve found a new one I can use the cello she still has from before she bought the beautiful one she uses now, which is lovely and mind-boggling but somehow I doubt I’ll be caught without one. I see the same celli up for sale online all the time. I also have no idea what to ask price-wise for the one I’ve got. I’ll talk to the luthier when I’m next in. I just wish I didn’t feel like I’d killed something heartlessly.

Anyway, I am consoling myself with, and actually beginning to revive my interest in, trying 7/8s again. In the meantime my teacher has somehow suckered me into playing a solo at the Christmas recital in three weeks. I suspect I agreed because she proposed it so nicely (in the “possessing, marked by, or demanding great or excessive precision and delicacy” definition) and didn’t make me feel like I was being railroaded into it. What I wanted to ask, but didn’t because I am shy and despite the fact I’ve played with her for seven years I’ve only been her student for a month, was who else was soloing and what were they playing. Because I’m doing a Bach minuet, and part of me is relieved because I played these things thirteen years ago, and another part is mildly squirmy because they’re in the Suzuki level 2 book, for heaven’s sake. I was playing sonatas before I stopped lessons before. Mind you I’ve lost a hell of a lot of decent sound production and technique since then, so these are reacquainting me with the basics, but still. Not that the people in the senior’s residence will care. They will be too busy being charmed by the six year old playing Suzuki book 1 pieces on her tiny cello .

Speaking of the six year old, my teacher told me yesterday that her next-door neighbour has a four year old who is obsessed with music and wants lessons. Generally the idea about children and lessons is not to bother until they can read (something about their ability to organize the info they take in, and I suspect so as not to utterly crush the joy they have in spontaneous music) but she knows that Sparky is also excited about the idea of music lessons, so he can play the cello like Mama does. So she has proposed that the two boys come to the group lesson on Sunday to see what it’s like. Our group lesson is divided into two halves, the younger students for the first hour, then a short social thing, and then the adults have an hour of group lesson. The boys would observe the younger group lesson, and if they are still as excited about things she’d think about maybe having a special series for them to learn about rhythm and other pre-formal lesson skills. She mentioned that the McGill Conservatory has a Very Little Musicians program that might do as well.

I told Liam about this Very Special Invitation last night and he was very excited. His first question was, of course, “What’s the little boy’s name?” “I didn’t ask,” I said. “I forgot that it would be important to you. I’ll ask when I see my teacher tomorrow at dress rehearsal.” So he went around for the rest of the evening telling his father and the cats that he and ‘the little boy’ would be watching a cello lesson. We’ll have to talk about proper etiquette and such tomorrow, both for the concert and the lesson the next day. The tentative plan for Sunday is to explain why he needs a slightly early nap and for HRH and I to bring him to the young group lesson, after which the boys can take off to the Thomas layout bookstore while I have my adult group lesson. If he’s unbearable after having attended the concert Saturday night we can call it off, and there’s always the option of HRH whisking him away from the lesson if he can’t sit quietly.

I looked at the calendar yesterday and realised that there was a Wednesday rehearsal, my lesson on Thursday, a dress rehearsal tonight, the concert on Saturday, and the group lesson on Sunday. Good grief. I’m also mildly freaked out about the amount of work that has to happen between now and Wednesday, because I’m teaching a real-live university class on Monday morning (subject: Neo-paganism, and I have an eight-page lecture outline and the dreadful feeling that I’m going to demonstrate an Epic Fail by somehow being unprepared… I always feel like there’s no good way to make the info flow logically) and have a coffee/lunch date on Tuesday and an assignment due for the evaluations Wednesday which is only about 30K words but revolves around examples drawn from Biblical stories and quotations so I’m going to be flipping through a Bible as I do it, which will slow things down.

Back to the cello stuff. I’m liking the sound that I’m (sometimes) producing in my lessons. It’s a bit of a juggling act because I have to remember things about my bow hand, my right elbow, my shoulders, the left wrist and elbow that we’ve been working on, and then all the usual technical music stuff too. But there was a point in yesterday’s lesson where I sounded good, and where I could hear and feel the vibration of the bow across the string in all the right ways. It feels sometimes like I’m not grasping very basic things, but things are improving in general at orchestra thanks to the new awareness I have of my body and how it moves, so there’s hope.