Friday, December 16, 2011

KaoHsiung International Airport

In an attempt to document all of the traveling I do, especially in light of my research, I'm going to start blogging about connectivity at various airports, and other time-related stuff. Boring, I know, to most people, so just ignore this.

I'm currently sitting in the KaoHsiung Airport waiting for my flight to Hong Kong. I think there is only one terminal, but I found a great wifi spot - it's right outside of the Ever Rich Duty Free store, and all it takes is a one-push button "log in" to access wifi. The connection speed is not bad either. There are some numbered "AIRPORT" wifi networks - I think over 10 - I haven't had a chance to encounter all of them, but their connection speed seems even faster than the Ever Rich one (although it felt sluggish when I was on my iPhone).

BTW if anyone knows exactly what a website like speedtest.net measures, I'm all ears.

Thursday, November 10, 2011

Bizarre Gaga video

This video of old folks dancing to Lady Gaga's Bad Romance has gotten a lot of circulation on the interwebs, and has been made fun of a lot. I'll spare you the expected rants about Othering Asians by making fun of them, although I think that is a pervading element of it - by not understanding, it is easier to make fun, and make inferior another racial/ethnic group. Blah blah.

My good friend, Dawen, suggests that "ga ga" might be a way to say "elder" in some form of Chinese dialect, and that the song itself is nowhere near a direct translation of Lady Gaga's song, and the song might be some sort of elder people showing of solidarity through song, a common commiseration. Why don't my kids pay attention to me? Poignant?

Thursday, July 28, 2011

Fwd: Telecommute Nation: If Half of Us Could Work Remotely, Why Don't We?



************
Sent from Cynthia Wang's iPhone

Begin forwarded message:

From: Larry Gross <lpgross@usc.edu>
Date: July 27, 2011 10:58:44 AM GMT+08:00
To: "' (LARRYLIST-L@usc.edu)'" <LARRYLIST-L@usc.edu>, "'Sept11 List'"@listproc.usc.edu
Cc: DnD <DnD@asc.usc.edu>
Subject: Telecommute Nation: If Half of Us Could Work Remotely, Why Don't We?
Reply-To: lpgross@usc.edu

 

Telecommute Nation: If Half of Us Could Work Remotely, Why Don't We?

By Derek Thompson

More than 34 million people -- equal to the population of Texas and Pennsylvania combined -- work from home occasionally. Twice as many could if they wanted. In the next few years, maybe they will.

You know, this would be a good day to work from home. The heat index is 114 degrees today in Washington, D.C. I have to walk half-an-hour to and from work to an office with no better Internet than my living room. Everything I need to write I can fit into a laptop bag, or on a couch.

So why am I writing this article from the desk at The Atlantic's office?

***

Telecommuting, or working from home, is one of those trends that most people talk about as much in the future tense as the present. Only one in twenty formally employed Americans works consistently from home, but the fact that so many of us could work fills demographers' eyes with visions of empty cubicles and broadband-blazing living rooms.

Fully 75% of the workforce will be mobile by 2012, the research firm IDC predicted in 2008. Not to be outdone, the Information Technology & Innovation Foundation predicted in 2009 that the number of jobs filled by telecommuters would grow nearly four-fold before 2020. Other studies hold that half of all jobs are receptive to telework, including the vast majority of information technology positions.

That's a lot of stats. In a nutshell: Half of us could work remotely if we wanted. Far less do. Why?

Even if we're technically more productive at home, we feel more conspicuously productive at work.

The answer might have more to do with psychology than economics. Even if we're technically more productive at home, we feel more conspicuously productive at work. You might think a recession would lead to more telecommuting since it reduces overhead and increases work hours. Instead, telework among the formally employed has slowed in the last three years. Ted Schadler, a telecommuting expert who is vice president and chief analyst at Forrester Research, suggests the answer might be psychological.

"Some bosses think if they can't see you working, you're not working," he says. "If you're worried about losing your job, you're going to come into the office every chance you get."

For me, it comes down to people. The best social technology increases social connections. Facebook keeps us in touch with far-flung friends. Twitter broadcasts our internal monologues to the world. Email, texts, and phones keep us connected even when we're remote. But none of these things forces us to not be with real live people.

Telecommuting is a choice to be alone. It reduces connections between workers. It removes us from the world of work and makes it indistinguishable from the period before and after, which we could simple call life.

***

Still, telework has clear benefits. For the employer, it can save office space, utilities and overhead for employee services. From the worker, it creates more hours for life or desk work. It reduces travel costs. It has external benefits, like less traffic and quicker travel for commuters. We talk a lot about building more efficient public transportation, but the most efficient public transportation is the technology that lets you work from where you sleep.

Telecommuting is a choice to be alone.

Widespread adoption of telework requires three things, Schadler tells me. First, you need to work in the right industry. The growth of high-tech information technology jobs should lead to a growth in telecommuting, which would allow employers to hire the best workers in Florida or Oregon. Within industries, management culture matters. "In pharma sales, everybody works at home," he says. "In pharma marketing, everybody works in the office."

Second, to make remote working really work, you need performance metrics, because bosses can't manage what they can't measure. "If employers could measure output [posts per day, tasks per week, etc] they don't care where you work, or how long you work, as long as you produce the output," Schadler says.

The third factor is the most important and the hardest to quantify: it's personal motivation. I could have called Ted and written these paragraphs from my couch, or the coffee shop across the street from my apartment. Instead, I chose to walk 15 minutes through the tropical heat because ... well, I like my colleagues. I like my desk. I like that it is not the same table where I eat dinner and find funny YouTube videos with my roommates. If telework increases work-time and "life"-time, it does so at the expense of a work-life balance.

Tens of millions of Americans obviously disagree. If you're one of them, leave a note in the comments section. Why do you prefer to work without "coming in to work"?

This article available online at:

http://www.theatlantic.com/business/archive/2011/07/telecommute-nation-if-half-of-us-could-work-remotely-why-dont-we/242382/

Copyright © 2011 by The Atlantic Monthly Group. All Rights Reserved.

 

 

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

Larry Gross

Professor and Director

School of Communication

Annenberg School for Communication & Journalism

University of Southern California

Los Angeles, CA 90089

213-740-3770

 

Editor, International Journal of Communication

President, International Communication Association, 2011-12

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

 

Monday, July 11, 2011

Summer in Asia quick update

You know the Knight Bus from Harry Potter? Well, the buses here are like that. We just got back from Kawasan Falls last night - it was a 3.5 hour trip there, and another 3.5 hour trip back, and we took a public bus. This bus isn't huge, but it isn't small and agile either, by any sense of the words. I mean, it's a bus. But the road can be completely blocked, and this huge bus will still find a way to get where it needs to be.


Wait, I figured, I should probably blog about our entire Kawasan trip. Or well, my Whac-a-Mole Where-in-the-World-is-Cynthia-going-to-turn-up-next travels thus far.


I've been traveling almost non-stop since July 3rd, where I left NYC and flew to LA, spending about 40 hours there and fitting in a dinner and a brunch (at Doughboys -delicious stuff), and an almost-complete episode of the Bachelorette (we HAD to see what Bentley had to say when he met up with Ashley in HK!) before hopping on a plane to HK. After a rather painless 14 hours, I landed in HK very early in the morn, where I missed the first bus back home, resulting in my poor mom waiting aimlessly for about 40 minutes outside the MTR station where our apartment is.


Upon arriving at home, after lamenting my weight loss since she last saw me, Mama took me to dimsum, where we gorged ourselves with discounted HK breakfast goodies. The next 40 hours or so were laying around lazily and repacking for Cebu, and meeting up with Phong, who I’m apparently chasing around the world (we had met in LA, had dinner in NYC, and now lunch in HK).


Let’s get onto Cebu, because that’s probably more interesting than HK. I was under the impression that my flight was at 1:35pm, because the flight itself was only about 2.5 hours, and my ticket said departure at 0135H, arriving at 0410H. It wasn’t until about a week ago that I looked at the ticket again, and my return flight departs at 2250H. Hrm, I thought. Is this on MILITARY TIME? Yes, indeed, it is. I was going to be leaving at 1:35AM, not PM…and this is their idea of a red-eye flight. WTF.


I whiz thru customs, and Roselynne meets me at 4am right outside the airport entrance. I’ll save you all the sap and mush (unless you really like oatmeal with maple syrup, in which case, ask me privately), but let’s just say seeing her was much needed. Slept for a few hours before she had to get up to go to class. I slept for most of the day, and immediately the next day, we headed to Kawasan Falls for the weekend. The traveling just doesn't stop. Kawasan was amazing, but I'm very happy to be home and still for a while.


So, I'm chilling in the apartment now while she learns some sort of choreographed dance. I've only gotten two mosquito bites so far, but bracing myself for more...

Sunday, July 10, 2011

Soreness and Waterfalls

R was laughing at me earlier because I was writhing around in pain from lactic acid buildup in my left leg from hiking and swimming this weekend. Laughing, because she knew exactly what it was, it wasn't life-threatening, and there was nothing either of us could to do make it better. Only time. I'm still limping all over the place.

This weekend was amazing. We (me, R, her cousins, and her friend Maricar and Maricar's friend Joper) hopped on a non-ACed overly-bumpy public bus and rode it to Kawasan Falls. I'm not even sure how to describe it. A resort? A national park? Something like that. Basically, there are 8 or so levels of waterfalls. We stayed in a rather spacious room at Level 1 (the lowest), but hiked up to Level 3 and went swimming in the pool there. Waterfalls everywhere. We also didn't bring swimsuits, so not only did I do some pretty adventurous hiking in flip flops, I also braved waterfalls and fish and iguanas (more on this later) in regular clothes. Long story short, though, lots of activity = lots of soreness = pain right now.

Friday, July 08, 2011

Maximum Punishment, and a new country

Have you noticed those signs that prevent you from doing something? Like smoking or littering? And how they always come with a "maximum punishment"? For example, if you smoke in the airplane lavatory, you'll be fined a few thousand dollars, and possibly spend a maximum of 2 years in prison. I often wondered about why the signs attempt to make would-be criminals feel better about committing the crime. It's almost like saying, "Oh, you can go ahead and commit this crime because the WORST that can happen to you is so and so." Shouldn't the signs be more scary in order to better deter people from doing that which the establishment does not want them to do? Like, "if you smoke in the lavatory, you will be fined a MINIMUM of $200 and do 30 hours of community service."

Anyway. In the Philippines now. Yes, that means I have a Philippines stamp in my passport! Booyah! Oh, I mean, I get to see my girl. Booyah as well. :)

It is hot here (but not overwhelmingly so) and there's an...odor...in the air. And I took one of the very few cold showers I ever have in my life. R says I'm spoiled. I don't disagree. Actually, it's not even a shower. You have to fill up this bucket, which R humorously calls "The Reservoir" and pour water over yourself in order to bath. And in true Asian form, the shower part itself isn't separate from the rest of the bathroom, so the entire bathroom gets wet in the process. Let's just say, for me, a person of much creature comforts, this is a humbling experience.

Everyone's a germaphobe here. There are sinks in the restaurants (not even in the bathroom area) to wash your hands before and after a meal. Otherwise, Cebu feels a lot like many of the Asian cities I have been to, possibly with the exception of Hong Kong, because Hong Kong is....a different experience altogether. But it feels a lot like Taiwan and parts of China. And most everyone speaks English, although R isn't letting me wander the city on my own. Yet. I'm convinced that she can be persuaded...there's a fort and other touristy-type sites I want to visit if I can...

Ok, more about this later. It's time for a nap.

Wednesday, May 04, 2011

哈哈!

My mom sent this one to me. Hilarious. Harry Potter versus 金庸. I'm not quite sure who won...

一位中年人問年輕人:「你有看過金庸的小說嗎?」 年輕人說:「沒有,只有看過

電視劇。」


中年人說:「那你知道金庸寫的14部小說的書名的第一個字,串起來會成為一首詩:


『飛雪連天射白鹿,笑書神俠倚碧鴛』嗎?」

年輕人說:「嗯…不知道,但是我有看羅琳(哈利波特作者)的小說,你知道這七本
小說書名的第一個字串起來是 什麼嗎?」





中年人:嗯… 不知道耶


.
.
.
.
.
.




年輕人:哦,她寫的七本小說書名的第一個字串起來是 『哈哈哈哈哈哈哈』!

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

grad school = death to thinking?

I've been procrastinating on writing this paper and reading old xanga entries. And I had good thoughts! Good questions! Like this one:

I've been thinking about this concept of heaven, and eternal happiness, and all that. And I have some questions.

First off, if I ever get to heaven, how old am I going to be, for eternity? If I see my grandparents, my great grandparents, how old will they be?

Secondly, scenerio: I am deeply in love with someone. A live-by-this-person, die-by-this-person sort of love. And this person dies in a freak accident. My world is crushed, but I live on. And I eventually meet someone else, with whom I fall deeply in love, and spend the rest of my life with, but I am still in love with person #1. Who am I going to spend eternal paradise with - my first true love, or the true love that I spent my whole life with?

How does it work?


>>>>

That's a good question, right?? I mean, and now, in grad school, all of my questions are like "what are the hegemonic implications of the totalitarian system under which our government idealizes certain values and norms by which all individuals within the system must function?" or something like that?

underpass on the 5 North

Driving along the 5 North one night through the short tunnel just north of the 118, I drive past an 18-wheeler, and as I do, he taps his horn. I was a bit taken aback, since I was in my lane, and he was in his. But then I was told that honking in that underpass is a strange cultural thing. During rush hour, if one person honks, other people would join in and honk, making a veritable sonic cacophony in celebration of, uh, traffic.

Sunday, April 24, 2011

a love story, of sorts

There have been a few people who have asked about my new guitar, so I thought I'd write an ode here to her (yes, after long last, one of my guitars is finally a "her"). So here goes. BTW, G-rated, this is not. Proceed with caution.

There were probably a million better things I could be doing with my time that afternoon. But into Guitar Center I strolled. And after visiting the usual suspects and old friends, the Martin OMC Aura, the Martin 16 series, the Taylor GA8 and 600 series, my eyes fell on an unbranded guitar - one that looked a bit unique. At first glance, I thought, "That's a pretty guitar." It took a closer examination to see that the guitar was fully rosewood. Including the top, which is very rare. In any case, she caught my attention, so I approached her.

At first, though, I didn't really give her the benefit of the doubt. Just casually ran my finger across her strings - I didn't even bother removing her from the guitar stand. Not a bad sound. A certain warmth, definitely, probably due to the rosewood top. "But there are tons more like it," I thought. And didn't really give her another thought. Moreover, I couldn't really gauge how she sounded through the cacophony of everyone else playing and testing out instruments. Finally, as the afternoon wore on, people left, and I found myself alone with her. So I finally picked her up off the stand, held her in my arms, and this time, I listened.

Although there was an undeniable connection going on here, I wasn't sure I wanted to invest in a new guitar at the moment. So I let things be for a while. But I kept going back, and occasionally, I’d see other people picking her up and playing her. And I would too. I was slowly moved. She somehow got under my skin, and weaseled her way into my heart.

Finally, I took her home with me. Then, deep in the dark recesses of nighttime, I explored her. With each pluck, each stroke, each caress, she makes a different sound. I feel like I could spend forever touching her just to see how I can illicit different reactions. Soft, hard, strumming, plucking, slapping, hammering... with each touch, she reveals more to me, more depth, more overtones, more shades and layers. She unravels me with her beauty, both inside and out. With every touch and every glance, with every breath, I want more. I can't get close enough to her. In the dark of the night, I make her sing.

I’m so in love with her.

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Stokes response

I appreciate Stokes bringing up the critical questions of globalization - who does it benefit, etc, and recognizing the problems with being too idealistic. This power struggle does not just apply to music, as Stokes acknowledges, but to all cultural and political aspects of a global society.

The idea of globalization in terms of music is an interesting one, and often in conflict, I feel, because music is so cultural. It’s defined culturally, and the emotions one feels is not universal - it is culturally specific.

The dichotomies Stokes brings up (on page 50) between top-down and bottom-up, system and agency, global and local, etc seems to be tensions that happen in culture in general. To me, it always seems to be a question or power and appropriation, of maintaining power or subverting that power. And Stokes acknowledges this. For example, the fact that we use the term “World Music” I think says volumes about how we look at music from non-Western cultures. World music used to be a term used for anything that was outside the genres of rock, classical, pop, and country (or something like that), and encompasses everything non-Western. It seems to be a term that throws a homogenizing blanket over all things Other.

The point Stokes brings up here: “European and North American rock and pop superstars are prominent in charts, music stores, and cassette stands across much of the third world; the reverse is not true,” (pg. 55) exemplifies the cultural imperialism, or power difference between the powerful West and others. It is an example I tend to use a lot while talking about the phenomenon of Asian kids playing classical music . Why, I tend to ask, are Asian kids playing music written by dead, white, European men? We don’t ever see Europeans or Americans playing classical Chinese music on Eastern instruments. We’d be hard-pressed to find an American who can name two or three traditional Chinese instruments.

It is infuriating, as well, how copyright law and the economics of the music industry exploit ethnic music, like the example of the Taiwanese aboriginal groups’s CD release in France. It seems as though the industry, the music, art, culture are forever framed in an economic box. Copyright law, the idea that ideas are possession and hence can be traded for economic gain, is a decidedly Western and capitalistic mentality, and yet non-Western societies need to play the capitalistic game in order to survive in a global society, get they continue to get screwed over. Copyright laws don’t protect those that it wasn’t written for.

I always feel like the idea of hybridity is just a way for cultures in power (read: Western, white) to feel like they’re diverse. Like eastern medicine being used in addition to Western medicine as hybrid treatment, if it’s explicitly NOT Western, it has almost this exoticism to it - exoticism that has the potential to sell -- even when we steal things from non-Western cultures all the time (in music) and never allow those from whom we steal to benefit economically (like African beats that are transported to the West, then copyrighted by some Western artist, and Africa never sees a cent of royalty fees).

Stokes’ discussion of Monson brings to mind the fact that music is used differently in different cultures. Certain tribes in Africa use drumming as a form of communication across distances. Other cultures use songs to tell stories, in rituals. It seems like only in Western cultures is music so commercialized that every song, every musical note has a price tag attached to it. And the question becomes, then, in our capitalistic framework, how do we empower other cultures’ music as we incorporate or appropriate them, or bring visibility to them? Is that even possible, with the cultural hegemony of the West? Or is it better to keep music localized and hence, authentic, without losing its meaning by bringing it across cultural boundaries?

Religion is like a penis

From LarryList...

 

Monday, April 11, 2011

Diz again

I can't stand Disneyland's totalitarian ideology. My goodness. Even the roller coaster has a soundtrack that runs for the entire ride, then concludes when the ride stops, and it's so loud as to seek to drown out the sound of the car on the track. It's deafening. It's like, Disney really doesn't want you to hear anything other than what they want you to hear, or what they produce.

My friend tried to bring her ukulele into the park once, to play it while waiting in line (and possibly entertain the people around her), and the park officials told her she was not allowed to bring it into the park. Disney clearly did not want anything other than their own musical sounds inside the park.

Which, then, begs the question why they don't ban singing (obviously, it's harder to ban singing...).

Yesterday night, my friends and I watched World of Color twice - once from the front - or, how you're supposed to watch it. And then once from the back. Watching it from the back was really illuminating (pun not intended). When the water screen comes up, there is a distinct "pffft" sound of the water starting. You hear the unproduced sounds a lot better behind the scene - the machinery and the water dropping into the lagoon - and the produced sounds are muffled because all of the speakers are pointing in the other direction. A very VERY different sonic experience.

Thursday, April 07, 2011

quick response to Hsu

I just have to make a quick response to Hsu's piece. It dangerously seems to be talking about post-racial society...and if you read a bit of Kent Ono, you'll see why this is...problematic. Hsu feels too idealistic - quoting Carter talking about crossing a bridge, "defining ourselves by lifestyle rather than skin color." It disregards the history. I have discussions about this all the time - of reverse racism, with various people - and we question whether reverse racism can really exist (yes, of course it can), but whether that racism is the same sort of oppressive racism that was put upon people of color all throughout history (no, it's not).

There is a history of white hegemony and Western imperialism that can't simply be erased because we have Obama in office, which seems to be what Hsu is trying to at least make us think about. And whereas I appreciate Hsu bringing this into the conversation - the possibility of a post-racial world, one in which white people are culturally bankrupt (really? REALLY? have you taken a look at those things that make up "culture" in our society? Asian kids still play classical music written by mostly dead, white, European men -- why??), we have to remember to not disregard the history of oppression and white superiority that has ruled our modern world by being blinded with the idea of a harmonious, almost bohemian-esque, kumbaya "we are beyond race" mentality.

Wednesday, April 06, 2011

Jay-Z Decoded

So, before I started the readings for this week, I had to google the difference between hip hop and rap. Turns out, hip hop is a culture, while rap is simply the style of music. And, honestly, the only rap I had ever listened to before was Eminem. So, this was yet another week of music I am completely unfamiliar with. I love it. I’ve been listening to and reading Decoded, reading the lyrics as I listen to the audio track that Ryan gave us (so helpful, THANK YOU). And for me, it’s like reading Shakespeare. Hip hop music is constructed in a kind of syntax and structure that I am just not fluent in. Thank goodness for the footnotes that Jay-Z includes. It’s like Shakespeare in that it’s definitely English, but English in a way that I have to, well, decode. Perhaps this is the beauty of hip hop - the realness of the struggles for this group of people.

Decoded is a look into the songwriter’s head. We thus far have not had many readings that dealt with the “artistic” side of music, and how a musician synthesizes the songs he writes (although Suisman’s book does talk a little about it -- generally with the perception that music is driven mostly by economics). But Decoded takes us through one artist’s thought process, then the finished product.

Another thing that crossed my mind while reading Decoded was the fact that the names were, well, not conventional. It is almost as if they internalize a performative aspect to their lives, and change their name to one that is performative for music purposes (and possibly others). And, they reference real names in songs. Jay-Z does it himself, and references other people like Bleek (in Coming of Age). This sort of self-referencing and referencing real people in their lives gives the music an autobiographical feel (as fiction as sometimes Jay-Z would like us to believe). In fact, the whole book is a combination of Jay-Z’s story, and the intersection of that story with his art.

Decoded often veers into poignancy, as for example, when Jay-Z talks about being invisible. In Larry’s class today, we were just talking about the erasure of certain cultures and races in America. Jay-Z is very aware of this, and it is as if rap is a way to make the stories that the Powers That Be want to keep invisible visible. It is a side of America that was supposed to stay buried, yet didn’t. His discussion of the hip hop police depicts a scene almost like a battle - Althusser’s Ideological State Apparatuses - the police, whose job is to uphold the ideology and image of the America that is supposed to be, battling the subversive forces that find power from the bottom up.

This week seems to follow the theme of race and genre in music. The fact that hip hop is tied closely to black culture leads me to think about the questions we encountered during our discussions of narcocorridos and ragtime, and the segregation of race into genres. Rap and hip hop seems the modern day separation of race and genre. Jay-Z talks about the Beasties and Eminem, and makes the statement “Hip-hop gave a generation a common ground that didn’t require either race to lose anything.” (Jay-Z, 180). Perhaps they didn’t lose anything, but the genre itself is still entrenched in power struggles, and I can’t help wonder if white people doing hip hop is tainted with re-appropriation of an art form that they can perform and hence, control. There are white rappers. Other than Darius Rucker, have there been any other non-white country singer star? Does it work the other way? I feel Jay-Z may be a bit too idealistic in that statement. But overall, he leaves us with the message to listen, with our minds and hearts open, and perhaps in this way, we can start understanding other cultures and continue the conversation.

Grammys cutting categories

Tuesday, April 05, 2011

John Cage's Water Walk

questioning my sanity

As you can probably see, for some reason, I've been in deep songwriting mode.

I'm playing a show on April 15th in Long Beach, which will be a B-sides show - new songs (mostly), and songs no one has heard before...and going thru the set list, I realize about 4 or 5 songs are all in C#Maj. So I have this crazy idea to do one continuous 20-minute medley-type chunk (medley-type because the full songs will get played, and not just pieces) that just flows from one piece to the next. Unfortunately, because all 4 or 5 songs are stylistically different, I'm not sure of the best order to put them in, how to transition from one to the next without sounding completely bonkers, and the last time I combined songs, it was only two, and I ended up with a 9-minute song that exhausted me by the time I reached the end.

I think I might have talked myself out of this idea. It's 1:30am, and ideas that seem great late at night may prove to be mistakes in day's harsh light (wouldn't you know it, I'm an accidental poet --- just in time for the hip hop unit this week, although my rhymes here are somewhat meek)

Sunday, April 03, 2011

Real vs fake chord songs

When I write songs, they musically fall into two vague categories. The first is heavily influenced by my affinity for country music (I know, I know, let the judging begin), and the second is my attempt to be edgier and more free form.

In the first category, I use what I call "real" chords - easily understandable chords like Gmaj, Cmaj, Emin, Dmaj, Dmin, etc. Sometimes with a 7 chord thrown in. Sometimes suspended. I'm finding these songs fall neatly into place - it's a structure that's easy to read, and you know when and how phrases start and end.

In the second category, I use what I call "made up chords". Ok. These chords aren't really made up. In music theory, there are names for them. They're just too much trouble for me to figure out exactly what to call the chord. (did I mention that yes, I'm a classically trained musician, but when it comes to guitar, I can't even so much as read music to translate it onto the instrument? And I can't translate the sounds/noises I make on my guitar into musical notation. And it's mostly because I'm lazy and don't want to figure it out) So I call them made-up chords. They consist of a lot of suspended chords, Major7 chords, and other ones that just don't make any sense (as for example, E fingering off the 7th fret or something)

Anyway, my point with the second category is that I never know when the song is finished. Because it's so free form, it seems to change every time I play it. I'm actually speaking from a current frustration. I've been working on a song the last two days or so, and want to finish it in time for my show on the 15th. And I think it's finished, but I'm not sure. Because it almost feels like it's half improvised.

It's also funny that sometimes it takes 20 minutes to write a song. Other times, it takes 20 minutes to write 2 words.

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

disco response

Disco. The images this word conjures up for me include the shiny ball above the dance floor, Saturday Night Fever’s iconic image of John Travolta (a movie, I’m sad to say, I have yet to see), and big hair. Growing up in a Chinese household didn’t leave much room for cultural exploration outside that with which my parents were familiar. So, like in previous weeks, this is new territory for me. I actually thought disco took place during the 80s, which just shows how ignorant I am of pop music before the turn of the century...

Echol’s brief description of the transition from the 60s to the 70s reminded me of a book I read a couple years ago called “Generation Me” by Jean Twenge, in which she talks about the current generation of people in their 20s and 30s who grew up with a focus on the individual rather than the collective, with the desire and drive to stand out, to be unique, being told from an early age that they’re “special.” Self-esteem became more important that productivity, and “A for effort” became the norm in schools. I wonder if this has anything to do with the cultural revolutions of the 60s, which brought out a consciousness of diversity and identity, civil consciousness which spoke to the importance of the individual, and resulted in a push for self-identification and standing up for oneself. Here is one interpretation that I do not necessarily agree with, but can (if I expand my mind enough) see the point -- my mom once told me that to come out of the closet (as gay or lesbian) is a very selfish move, as it is tragic to one’s parents. It is interesting to me that she speaks from a culture that is more collective (Chinese), whereas in America, hiding one’s sexuality in order to appease one’s family, save face, and keep peace within one’s communal society would be unfathomable in, well, the liberal, diverse circles in which I live.

The continuity of disco on the dance floor is an interesting thought, especially since it seems to homogenize music - as Echols states, “songs that were easy to mix in and out of...began to dominate deejays’ playlists.” (Echols, pg. 9) Only certain songs that fit the beat and tempo of music were played and hence familiarized. Moreover, the embrace of  the “synthetic over the organic, the cut-up over the whole, the producer of the artist, and the record over live performance” (Echols, pg. 10) resonates with the popularization of techno and electronic dance music today, as Echols mentions in her Epilogue. Electronic dance music seems to be the updated disco of today’s music world, even to the point of “discofying” popular songs into a style with techno beats and pounding synthesized percussion.

Another interesting point to disco is that it seems to empower (at least economically in terms of visibility and record deals) marginalized minorities, especially black women, or the diva, with gay men as prominent consumers of this genre. Not to be grossly overgeneralizing, but the stereotype of the gay man as the diva suddenly makes more sense to me now... The point being is that it seems to me like one of the really significant things about disco was the fact that it is like a genre of subversion, a genre that was embraced by those in the margins - even the margins of the marginalized, as was the case of gay macho, and made the margins more visible than it were before. Echols makes the point that it crosses racial and gender boundaries that other genres may not. This probably says something about dance and rhythm as well...

And just another thing I appreciated about this book - the historicizing and summarizing of gay culture in America.

Wedding sounds

Reaction paper in the making...

But. I meant to blog about this sooner. I was at a wedding this weekend. It was a beach wedding. During the vows, you could hear what the officiator was saying (for the bride and groom to repeat), but you couldn't actually hear the bride and groom repeat it. I thought this was interesting in that sonically, the audience could hear what was supposed to be said, but the sounds of the bride and groom were reserved only for them. Perhaps that makes it more intimate.

Just a quick thought.

Also, ever notice that regular TV is louder than if you have a DVD in? I have to turn my volume way up when I watch a DVD.

Monday, March 28, 2011

sounds at Diz

Explanation of title: According to a Disney cast member we met today, people at Disneyland call the park "diz" or "the park" or "DCA" (for California Adventure)

Ok, on to other thoughts. Warning: Will be disjointed and not written very...intelligently... (or, eloquently) because I am very very tired (after spending the day at Diz), but wanted to get these thoughts up. Some of this is from today, some of this is from last month when I went.

Pirates:
1) It's like a movie. Where each room you pass is a different scene. And visually, it changes with each room you pass. Aurally, it fades, but remnants of the last "scene" or room still seep into the current.
2) There are two types of sounds on the ride - the produced sounds (or mechanical sounds), and the "real" sounds. The produced sounds are the ones that are recorded and reproduced. In pirates, this means the voices, the singing, the bullets and cannon shots, the dog barks, the instruments. Almost EVERY sound you hear on the ride is a produced sound. The real sounds are few and far between. Mostly sound of water. Or, for example, a great combination of the two are in the cannon battle scene. Where there are simulations of cannonballs hitting the water. The sounds of the cannonballs are all recorded, yet they blast water up, and the water hitting the surface of the, well, water from whence it came, is a "real" sound. There aren't much of these in ride.
3) The experience is so aurally immersive that you don't hear people talking, unless they're sitting RIGHT next to you. And even then, it's hard to hear them. Very much like a movie. Which I found was really the point (John Hench, head Imagineer, seems to imply) --- actually, we went to check out the Little Mermaid ride preview in DCA, and the layout plans of the ride show each section as a "Scene". As in, "Scene 8 - Ariel's escape" or something like that.

Fantasmic:
One thing really struck me during the fireworks. They play music during the fireworks. And the fireworks visually works with the music. Like, you'd see a burst of something or other on the downbeat, or a significant syncopated beat in the music. HOWEVER. As we all know, the burst you hear from fireworks occurs later than the burst you hear (which, I believe, is simply due to the scientific fact that light travels faster than sound). So the SOUND of the fireworks is in complete disjunction with the music. And yet, it seems like people don't CARE. It doesn't seem to affect the experience in any way, as long as the visual falls in place with the music. This is not only another example of visual hegemony, but that people are so taken in by the produced-ness of the experience, that there is a certain kind of deafness to the VERY LOUD boom that comes with the fireworks - it's heard but not really heard. The loudest sound of this produced experience is one that is unavoidable, and yet somehow forgotten. It's an aural signal that is expected to be disjointed, yet doesn't disrupt the produced experience.

Main Street:
I have to go back and listen to this, but it seems like people are lethargic around 3pm, very lively heading back into the part (presumably after an afternoon nap) around 7pm, then restless to go home at around 10pm. I just remember 3pm being very quiet. And the produced music was everywhere on Main Street. Lots of swing music, some ragtime, some musical, marching band-type music, and the music is continuous anywhere you go on Main Street, although if you listen closely enough, you can figure out where the speakers are, even though Diz tries very hard to hide them and make the sound seem sonorously magically present.

Jungle Cruise:
If you're talking about produced sounds creating an immersive experience for the audience, the Jungle Cruise does not do this. Especially if you're sitting in the back of the boat, where the motor is. You can't hear the guide at all. An example where real sounds overpower produced sounds and punctures (a bit) this frameworked experience Disney wants you to have. There's an interesting performative thing here too. Imagine being the guide and giving the same spiel for hours and hours on end, and needing it to sound fresh every time.

Tiki Room:
The split between produced sounds and real sounds (in this case, the mechanical sounds made by the animatronics technology that moves the birds and flowers mouths) is most pronounced here, and the real sounds probably the most ignored. The mechanical sounds are really percussive, and very noticeable, that at first, I thought it was part of the music, and was thinking, "huh. that's clever. they use the mechanical sounds to add to the produced and recorded sounds to make it sound more percussive." Until the flowers started singing some aria-type number, and then (because I was paying so much attention to it), the mechanical sounds started being distracting and overpowering. But probably only because I was listening for it. Everyone else seemed to not notice it at all - it didn't alter their experience...or the experience Walt Disney wants them to have. Again, another example to check reality at the door, to be willing to look past the real and buy into the experience (and pleasure --- this is talked about in the "Inside the Mouse" book) of the park - the fabricated and constructed one - to only experience what you're SUPPOSED to. It's all pretty totalitarian.

On a completely unrelated note, I realize that I can hear my neighbors' coffee maker early in the morning from my bedroom (my bedroom and their kitchen are adjacent) - and it has to be early because any later and I hear the faint occasional sound of cars in the street, which actually overpowers the very VERY quiet coffee maker sounds. And, when my ear is physically touching my pillow or blanket at certain times, I can hear my heartbeat. Sound travels through solids best, I guess. I mean, I know that sound travels through solids best, but I guess that's the explanation for the latter one.

Ok, I'm going to bed before people think I'm completely discombobulated. Good night.

Friday, March 25, 2011

Andrew Lansley rap

On the heels of our genred, racialized discussions...white rapper from the UK. Talking about the NHS in peril. Awesome stuff.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

response to Migrancy (Kun and Ragland)

I found Josh’s article fascinating, and an interesting introduction for me into the world of narcocorridos. Before this week’s readings, I knew absolutely nothing about Mexican music. (and honestly, I still feel like I don’t know much!) So, I think this response will be drawing comparisons to types of music and situations with which I am familiar.

The narrative style of narcocorridos to which the readings this week refers reminds me a little bit of country music - the telling of a story often centered around a character. With country music, though, there’s usually a moral point to the song or the story. Narcocorridos seem to celebrate crime and subversion. It is almost as if music itself is in cahoots with these ideas of subverting traditional power structures - women in the position of power with the example of Emilio Varela and Camelia le Tejana. Ragland paints a very interesting story of the tensions between Mexican and Mexican American culture - one that I’m rather familiar with as well, being Asian American and seeming “westernized” in the eyes of Asian friends, family, and acquaintances. The fact that Camelia was able to get away with murder and money, I felt, could be read a few ways. That it was ok because she was a woman, but not REALLY Mexican, and women are shady, subordinate creatures anyway, which doesn’t disrupt the social order if they deviate from it, because their position of less power. That it is empowering that a woman (regardless of nationality or culture) overpowers and outsmarts a man. That a woman had so much “visibility” or “aurality” - or “airtime” and given notice - that she was represented and given (quite a bit of) space in the musical narrative, that may seek to change the patriarchal hegemony.

Josh’s article quotes Mr. Quintero as saying that “songs for peace, or songs about ending violence...It’s not what people want to hear.” At first, that seems a bit disturbing. However, if we take ourselves out of the dichotomized framework of good and evil, legal and illegal, peace and violence, etc, can we start seeing the world more as relational rather than as absolute? Ragland also alludes to the complicated dynamics of the border, of nationality and identity, and of music. The narcotraficante lifestyle seems like it can be painted a bit like Robin Hood, where the questions of good and bad are thrown out the window and are, rather, replaced with questions of perspective, power, need, culture. If you steal from the rich (the drug-addicted North Americans) to feed the poor (shunting drug money back to Mexico to better the community) (Ragland, 166), is that really “bad”? The law may seem black and white, but morality is rarely that clearcut... as are the other strands of questions Mexican music plays with - culture, identity, nationality, race, gender, etc, and the movement across and between the Mexican and American frameworks for these.

I also wonder how narcocorridos compare with rap and the prevalence of sex and domestic violence and rape in rap music. I know very little about ether genre (oh, how problematic this idea of genre is, as we know), but it doesn’t seem as though rappers are killed like the Mexican musicians were...

Another instance of the drowning music industry....

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

response to Miller reading

One of the major things I got out of the Miller book was the idea that commercialized music was integrated into "folk" music, or southern music, rather than the other way around, of the Powers That Be appropriating "authentic" or "folk" music. I actually thought it would be the second way, although when one thinks about it, given the proliferation of commercialized music, it is not surprising that southern music would be influenced by commercialized music. It was interesting that Charles Peabody was dismayed to hear African American laborers singing commercialized "white" music coming from New York City - in that it exemplified the sentiment of the Jim Crow laws, wherein Powers That Be (usually white) wanted to put race and genres and music in separate boxes. The bleed-thru of commercial music into "folk" music, then, seemed to threaten the sacred tenet of segregation on which the Jim Crow laws are based, and hence threaten the hegemonic power of white folks. (who are, at the end of the day, still "folks" - more on this later)

Genres have always really bothered me. It seems to seek to put art and artistic endeavors (music, film, TV, etc --- and people, as we see) in these tiny boxes. They put unnecessary boundaries and limitations on human expression, and seek to categorize and organize in order to control. We see this with film and TV genres all the time. Especially with the Emmys, what is "good" and what is "bad" is often based on genre - this is a "good" drama show, this is a "good" comedy show, and we will reward you for falling within the lines of genre, award shows tell us. Race, then, as Miller demonstrates, is an ultimate genre that then gets tied closely with art produced by racialized bodies. It is a type of genre that comes with even more historical power struggles than the genre to which I previously referred. Both, of course, are constructed, and are sites of power struggles. This idea of racialized genres is still prevalent in music today, although it seems less imposed upon by Powers That Be and more simply part of the hegemonic fabric of our society that comes from a history of slavery and oppression of non-white people.

Broonzy's quote "all music is folk music" in the afterword of the book is poignant on many levels. On one level, he speaks of the challenges (and possibly inanity) of trying to categorize folk music, of trying to categorize what is "authentic." On the other hand, I feel he makes a much broader statement about race and the perceived inferiority of African Americans or non-white musicians. He seems to react to the fact that non-Whites, and especially African Americans, were treated no better than animals, if we recall the slavery era. His comment about the horse speaks to this very clearly. This statement is poignant because it recognizes the dehumanization of black folks in the south, and seeks to bring an aspect of humanity back into the conversation, to remind people that, regardless of race, everyone is foundationally human.

One more quick anecdote that I won't elaborate on too much (might be able to link it later to another blog), but I thought was relevant to this idea of racialized music. My friend Dawen performed at the Apollo in NYC last week. Did not win, but is interesting in that he's a guy of Asian decent playing soul music. Dawen's genre is R&B, another "traditionally" black genre. I've often wondered if Asian American musicians have a genre of music, or if we just bounce around, adapting other racialized genres?

Monday, March 21, 2011

parody? or not?

My brother showed me this (right before going into surgery this past week .... so I guess maybe this is a lasting legacy of his underbite, which is no more)...

Anyway - I can't decide if I think this is a joke or not, because it's SO BAD...like, how can the producers not know that it's so bad?!

In other, more pressing and scary news, there seems to be a memory leak in my macbook. WTF?! It just went from 7GBs to 1GB...and I haven't downloaded anything.

Sunday, March 20, 2011

Sound therapy

Not a new concept, but talk about artificially created "natural" soundscapes.

Photo

Thursday, March 17, 2011

propriety in sound in critical care

I'm here in the critical care waiting room waiting on, well, I'm not sure what. Just to be proximal to my brother, who had surgery yesterday on his jaw. My poor brother is all swollen, and my poor mom wasn't expecting the surgery to be as major as it was (it seemed like I was the first one to realize how major this surgery is....and then it dawned on my brother, and I think my mom was the only one under the illusion that this surgery would just be a "minor jaw adjustment."

Anyway, the soundscape in the CCU waiting room is interesting. There was a moment earlier where everyone was silent, and there was this girl who was speaking rather loudly on and on about some medical procedure in great (uninformed, it seemed) detail - something about breaking ribs and seeing the so-and-so's heart beating underneath a sponge, and gorily too. And she was shushed by the waiting room attendant. And got all huffy about it.
Space is an interesting thing in the waiting room too. It seems like people really just camp out here, at least, with this girl and her friends, they seem to have taken up an entire half of the waiting room. I'm still trying to listen to see exactly why they're in here. Oh, and she listens in on other people's conversations and interrupts. Interesting. Boundaries seem to dissolve in hospital waiting rooms. Probably because everyone is looking for an excuse for distraction.

Oh, interesting, there's a gender debate going on...involving Barbies and Disney princesses. And this woman seems like she has 5 kids. But she looks no older than I. Yeeeeesh. It seems like she just needs to be the center of attention. She's completely hijacked the conversation between these two other people.

Ok, here's the story. Since she was willing to share so very loudly. Her husband was in an accident after he fell asleep at the wheel, and 4 of the kids are stepchildren. Yikes. Hope everything will be ok. But yikes. Oh, the collapse of public and private space...

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

changes in voice

The title sort of gives it away, but here's a disconnect between visual and audio signal, and our ideas of gender norms.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Interstitial Time

Interstitial time. Time that's not work time or leisure time. Time that traditionally has not been "productive." Work time increases economic capital, while leisure time increases cultural and social capital, to put it reductively.

What I find though, is that I'm incredibly productive during interstitial times. Especially when I have hours and hours and hours of it. Like at the airport, or on the airplane. Maybe it's because I don't feel like I'm obligated to do work, that I do a ton of it.

On my way to Ottawa, I created my presentation (essentially wrote a 10-page paper based on my paper from last semester on temporal capital). Then, on the way back, I wrote three abstracts and read an entire *academic* book (Granted, it was on Disney World, but it ain't no Twilight, and was in the critical theory/cultural studies realm), made new friends, and had a whole conversation about Don't Ask Don't Tell, as one of my new friends is in the Army Reserve (she was wearing her fatigues).

Then today, I opened my email to the daunting task of translating a canvassing script for Vote for Equality into Chinese. Daunting because they want it by Thursday, and because Chinese isn't my native language. And the previous translation that I was working with was written in simplified Chinese. Which, for me, was like reading Shakespeare with letters missing.

(oooh. my free wifi session just canceled, but all I had to do was log in again...and this time, I took a REALLY quick survey - took literally 20 seconds - talk about temporal capital in exchange for something)

However, because I had nothing else pressing to do, and for some reason can't consume entertainment media during interstitial time because the joy of consuming entertainment media only happens when you're procrastinating on something you're SUPPOSED to be doing (ie: during work time...), I translated half of this document waiting for my flight at LAX (which was delayed), and translated the rest on the plane before watching 2 episodes of Dexter, then conking out for 3 hours.

And now waiting at Logan, I've already written two blog posts and discovered discrepancies in this NCA submission process...

Maybe Spring Break is the interstitial time for me to be really productive. Of course, it could also go horribly in the other direction.

Kind of brilliant

Never seen anything like this before. And it's pretty brilliant in terms of Internet and advertising. And so incredibly simple.

I just got into Logan, and waiting here for two hours for the first bus to get here (oh, the joys of red-eye flights). Logan has Internet. I can access Internet automatically from my iPhone and iPad (I think - I haven't tried the iPad yet, but I have had experience where if it's an apple product, it will log you right in, and my iPhone seemed to pick it right up). Then, because I had some deliverables I needed to send out, I pull out my laptop to see if Logan is giving my laptop free wifi.

It does, conditionally. But it's a condition I don't think anyone would complain about if free wifi is the reward.

The site that pops up gives three options - either you can log in with boingo, pay for a day pass, or watch a 30-second ad by Asus (at least mine was Asus). I, of course, chose the last option. After a painless and rather entertaining ad, voila! Internet!

What can you say? Boston's full of smart people.

Sunday, March 13, 2011

guitar shopping

I feel like I've been so bad at blogging recently - mostly because I went to this conference in Ottawa and talked about temporal capital and how an episode of Lost takes up 43 minutes of my time, and how we are completely limited in how much time we have in a day. So that's my excuse. I haven't had time to sit down and blog.

I went to Guitar Center with a friend today to get her a guitar. And amid the multitudes of brands, models, styles, shapes, sizes of guitars, trying to pick the perfect one took, well, nearly 3 hours. And the end of the day, you question whether or not the sound of one is really better than the other (the one she eventually picked out is, in my opinion, a fantastic guitar - a Martin D-15 - all-solid all-mahagony dreadnought guitar - total beaut). And the challenging thing is that in Guitar Center itself is a cacophony of sound as other people also try out various guitars. I frequent Guitar Center, and rarely is it that crowded where you can't hear your own playing. And then there are people who are really amazing players jamming away on random guitars, and all you want to do is listen to them for a while, but then you don't want to seem too intrusive.

Anyway. Yay for guitar shopping. I was very VERY tempted to get a ukulele, but I resisted.

Thursday, March 10, 2011

20111_comm_620_20911: You Are Listening to Los Angeles

Perry - posting this to my blog. Blog readers (all, you know, 3 of you), this was sent to me by a classmate of mine. Fascinating.

It's interesting - I listened to NY, LA, and Chicago (the three cities I've called home!) and all the dispatchers seem to be female! Actually, there are a lot of female voices here in Chicago (which I'm listening to right now).

In Chicago, there's a disturbance at a club by an "extremely intoxicated male refusing to leave," and a suspicious-looking auto.

OH they just said that there's an incident, and was cautioned to "be professional." errrr?!

The ambient music is kinda creepy. I turned it off. It makes it feel as though it's pre-recorded.

Cynthia
************
Cynthia Wang
Annenberg School for Communication
University of Southern California
cynthia.w@usc.edu

On Mar 9, 2011, at 1:15 AM, Perry Johnson wrote:

Hi friends!

Thought this might interest those of you thinking about sound mapping and the soundscape(s) of LA for the final project--if not, still a fascinating project.

You Are Listening to Los Angeles: LAPD Police Radio and Ambient Music

http://youarelistening.to/losangeles

Enjoy your spring break!

Perry


Monday, March 07, 2011

wind

When it's really windy, it sounds like cars are driving by my apartment in the rain (with the sound their wheels make on wet pavement). So all afternoon, I totally thought it was raining. Until I checked weather.com.

Sunday, March 06, 2011

Bieber

I just heard/watched this for the first time:

I don't know if I should feel proud for having avoided it for this long, or pathetic for spending 3:45 of my temporal capital watching it....

Thanks a lot, SNL, for having Miley Cyrus spoof Justin Bieber tonight.

Saturday, March 05, 2011

At the roller derby

At the roller derby right now. Thinking about sounds and sports. The announcer's comments are so secondary in terms of what sounds take priority when you're actually there. Whereas when you watch a sporting event on TV, the announcer is overwhelmingly the voice that you hear. Following that, that means that on tv, your experience of the event is shaped by the announcer more than if you were actually there. Attached is a short clip of the derby.

Friday, March 04, 2011

As I sit procrastinating...

I'm sitting here trying to write my midterm paper before running around the continent next week. So naturally, I'm watching YouTube videos.

Raymond Lee singing "Long Train Ride" from Victor Woo: The Average Asian American

Erin Quill doing her own version of "Be Good to your Mama":

Megan Lee and Raymond Lee dueting to "I See the Light" from Tangled:

Wednesday, March 02, 2011

Response for Suisman

Suisman’s book was fantastic. I found myself wanting to highlight almost everything (but I restrained myself). I actually wrote a paper (for Lisa Gitelman’s class at NYU) on piano rolls in the late 19th, early 20th century that probed the idea (that Suisman discusses) of interpolating people into the middle class by having player pianos and piano rolls. I was particularly drawn to the part about the phonograph, and Caruso’s recordings, especially with Victor’s Red Label in which hierarchies of cultural capital were constructed through the use of sound recording and playback technologies.

How very fitting that we read this book during the week of the EMP conference, whose theme was Music and Money, since Suisman gives a delightful narrative that tracks the commodification of music and sound. I was struck by the class implications for the player piano and the phonograph, as well as its power to disseminate information to the public in a sort of democratizing process. Suisman makes the point that before the phonograph, the only way one can listen to the opera is to have enough cultural and economic capital to attend a live performance. With the phonograph, “high Art” (with the capital A) is now more widely accessible to a greater number of people.

The part about Tin Pan Alley and songwriters as hands (or pens) for hire hit close to home for me this week as well. I was just commissioned to write a song for someone who is trying to win her girlfriend back. The feeling of writing this song is very different than what I write organically for myself. I think about the song less as an artwork, and more as an object. The process of songwriting in Tin Pan Alley demarcates the difference between music songwriting as artistic process and music songwriting as a craft. Tin Pan Alley is certainly the latter. And in my case this week, the song I write for someone else is more craft than art. Songwriting in Tin Pan Alley becomes a functional process (following the oversimplified idea that a piece of art is defined when one admires it for its aesthetic form over its utility as a functional object). The songwriters, and hence the songs themselves, serve more a function for capitalistic gains rather than the transcendental purpose of spiritual fulfillment that Art (with a capital A) purportedly forwards.

Another point I would like to make that seems to be an ongoing theme of this class is the fact that this book is about music and sound, and yet the way the information is given to the reader is through describing the sounds and music via texts and pictures. the visual hegemony of epistemological knowledge binds even a book about sound and music to its rules. We learn about music and sound thru text and pictures.

Monday, February 28, 2011

Into Disney with a Sound Recorder

Went to Disneyland today to record some sound for a bigger project I want to do. Just a few disconnected thoughts:

- It feels creepy going in there with an audio recorder. As in, I feel creepy, because cameras are normal, but audio recordings are not. People probably thought I was a spy.

- sound mapping is challenging because of all the stuff that falls thru the cracks, simply because sound is so ephemeral, so in the moment. I can take 5 minutes of sound at a particular spot, but I'm missing who knows how much more at the time. Conversely, the Haunted Mansion is going to look a certain way for the entire day.

- In the Tiki Room, the animatronics are LOUD. It completely overwhelms the actual music recording that is played there. I have a sound recording of it.

Saturday, February 26, 2011

Quick thoughts on EMP

My body is protesting right now. It's been awake for way too long on way too little sleep and has spent 9 hours today cramped up sitting in chairs at UCLA for the EMP Conference. But the conference itself was awesome.
I think one of the things that inspired me was the first panel, moderated by Aram Sinnreich, that I went to, which was about being musicians outside a major record label. It made me want to pursue music more, which is probably not the best idea in grad school, but well, Ahmed Best said it the best - that he's a musician - it's not something he does. Everything else he does (like the business end of it) is independent of the fact that he's a musician. As idealistic as that may sound, it was interesting to hear that he considers it a part of his identity. I went with no music for 2 years in college (when I quit playing piano because I was double majoring in film and biology, and before I taught myself guitar), and was miserable. I've been playing music nonstop since then, even if it's not all intense all the time. It calms me.

Raymond Roker's branding panel was also really interesting, and very different. What Redbull is doing with their music academy is very cool stuff though. And interesting points about how the person in charge of brand parties could just be choosing venues where he or she likes to party!

Then there was a painful panel where people read from their papers. And I'm not sure one of the panelists talked about noise in a very informed way...

The last panel on copyright was great. But I was losing steam fast. And getting hungry. Overall, very productive day.

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Response to Munro's "Different Drummers"

I very much appreciated Martin Munro’s book, "Different Drummers." Not only does it track the history of the meanings of rhythms, but it also I find it fascinating that rhythm has become racialized and interpolated into meanings within power structures and social hierarchies, especially when, as Henri Lefebvre suggests, rhythm is intrinsic in the body, that the body is made up of rhythms: “respiration, the beating of one’s heart, the circulation of blood, the flow of one’s speech.” (location 918 on Kindle) Interestingly, classical music does not use drums until much later. Baroque and Classical, and even most Romantic era music do not use drums. If they are used, increasingly starting in the Romantic era, they are usually used sparingly, and not so much rhythmically - or to keep a rhythm. This makes me question popular music nowadays, which cannot seem to exist without a rhythmic drum beat. Drums, percussion, a rhythm track are fundamental instrumentations for today’s pop culture, no matter what race the artist or writer is.

Munro also discusses how temporality is perceived differently in different cultures. I never thought of our temporal culture as linear, as goal-oriented, but how true that is. Our music tell a story, gets somewhere. Rarely is it simply sound. I know this might be a bad example, but I watched Andrew Zimmern in Namibia (this is what happens when you’re stuck at home being more sick than you’ve ever been in your life), where he visited a tribe out in the middle of the dessert (I know, how incredibly stereotypical, right?). At night, they made what was akin to a drum circle, but with clapping. When Zimmern asked if there were any order to dancing, or if anyone can dance, he was told that anyone can dance however they wanted to. In a tribe where everything else was hierarchical, the dancing seemed to be the most egalitarian event of all. Such non-order, though, implies a cyclicalness, rather than a linearity that one would find in Western cultures. Even in jazz, there is less order and rule, less structure than strict classical music, where everything is framed by the rhythm.

It is interesting to see that the ideas of rhythm, drumming, and noise coming back, especially how “noise” has implications of class and social status, and how rhythm is used as a form of resistance against racism. It is as if, as Munro says, “[i]n a region shaped by historical genocide (and thereby silencing) of one group of people, by the brutal displacement and enslavement (and attempted silencing) of another, and by the complete (and univocal) mastery of another, the control of sounds, voices, and languages has long been associated with defining and circumscribing identity.” (location 5164 on Kindle) In other words, rhythm and sound is the means by which these disenfranchised groups establish an identity in order to not be invisible or silent, and to have a voice, to create not only a spatial space, but a space within the soundscape.

Sound historiography has been something that I’ve written about in this class, as well as something I’ve thought about for other classes, and Munro brings up questions in his conclusion that have been plaguing me as well - “We may think we know - from old images, paintings, and even films - what slavery looked like, but how did it sound?” (location 5047 on Kindle) As the discussion leader for one of my other classes, I asked my fellow classmates to read the Smith piece on Antebellum America, and one of my classmates pointed out that we can write about what we hear, but we can’t actually hear the sound because of the lack of sound recording technologies back then. He then went on to ask if the emphasis on sound now means that we should have studies that focus on taste, smell, and touch. The interesting thing is, though, we have no way to record and reproduce these other senses. So does this mean that sound does, indeed, have a hegemony over epistemology? At least more so than the other senses other than vision?

One last thing. I read the Munro on Kindle. As can be seen from this response, I had a difficult time citing direct quotes on Kindle, because Kindle doesn’t give page numbers, only “locations.” Just another example of how the archaic systems of academia and the advancements of technology are at odds with each other.

Monday, February 21, 2011

Skype saves sick synthia

It's been a week, and I'm still sick. Like, bedridden sick. As in, I had to call my friend this morning and ask her to bring me food and sustenance.
So because I couldn't make yet another meeting today, I had a Skype conference with Robby. I'm helping him with his class. And because I was looking like crap, we didn't use the video feature. So during the call, all I had were aural cues. A few thoughts - Skype's quality is fantastic. I could hear everything clearly. Really clearly. And not only that, but I could hear the antics going on in Robby's house in the background. His son, Atticus, at one point, locked himself in the bathroom, and I could hear his wife cajoling him to open the door in Chinese. And at one point, I hear intense crying. Atticus apparently did a face plant on the ground. It was fun, though, to sit back and visualize what was going on across Skype just based on sound, and by some limited verbal cues from Robby himself.

In other news, The Chicago Code is on. And I really like the theme song. (it's not on YouTube yet)

Sunday, February 20, 2011

iMovie

My friend had compiled a bunch of video clips of us at Disneyland during Christmas. I'm amazed that iMovie has a ton of pre-made music clips for background music purposes. Many apologies for the lack of posts lately. The Annenberg Flu had knocked me out and gone back to its own corner to gloat while I try and pick myself off the arena floor. Oh, and did y'all hear the rain today? And the thunder? It went beyond soothing to somewhat frightening.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Response for this week

The theme that runs across several of the readings this week is one that alters sound in order to create “art.” Kahn discusses the fact that sound is not really an object, which is why it makes sound art so hard to pin down, given that the visual hegemony treats art as objects. Ironically, Sterne has said that sound has become objectified and commodified in The Audible Past, but this line of thinking follows Kahn’s pointing out of the fact that sound is not necessarily something that is tangible. While Sterne and Kahn talk about sound differently. Sterne talks about it in a way in which sound as commodity has implications of class, power, status, economics, etc, whereas Kahn talks about the materiality of sound...a materiality that, before the inception of sound recording and reproducibility, did not exist. To experience sound, still, in the age of sound reproduction, is an exercise in ephemerality. 

“When the industry comes up with a machine to record something, it has a very specific use, but the artist always tired to go beyond what the machine was designed for.” (Marclay, 344) There is a sort of subversion that happens here, using technology made by Powers That Be, but using them in a way that is not intended. This is similar to remix culture, and has tinges of copyright issues. You can use a CD player in any way you want, making them skip, scratching the CD player, etc in order to create something else - a work of sonic art. In remix, you use a piece of music, and remix it to create something else, yet in today’s digital world, these remix artists run into copyright issues. Marclay makes a rather poignant statement about records, about how he remembers when “the record changed from being this object to be respected, collected and stored for posterty, into a piece of plastic that had no more value than a coffee cup in the gutter.” (Marclay, 345) This conflict is particularly pertinent to the idea that sound is an object, but an ephemeral one rather than a tangible one.

There seems to be roughly three categories of aural signals that can be discerned from the readings this week - Cox highlights this a bit with his discussion of noise as unintended and the sonic unconsciousness. Then there is music, which has ideological and cultural expectations (this is what music is SUPPOSED to sound like - John Cage wonderfully pushes back on this notion with pieces like 4’33”, along with other composers like Boulez, Schnittke, Partch who push the conventional boundaries of music to a point where people may question whether their “music” is actually music). Then there is sound art, which seems to be, not exactly in the middle, but negotiates the position of music as the *only* type of art that can come of sound, and the questions of what “art” is, and how this differs from “music.” Sound art seems to play more with technology than music, as I had alluded to before, although I loathe to put boxes around these terms and make generalizations. But hopefully this is a useful way to start thinking about the distinctions, and the power structures that lay behind these concepts.

On another completely unrelated note, a Kit Kat commercial just came on. The breaking sound of the Kit Kat is completely fabricated, yet is THE selling point for the candy bar - not taste, not visual aesthetics, but sound.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Tire Tracks and Broken Hearts

I have been tasked with shipping our family car from Thousand Oaks (my hometown) to my brother at Dartmouth, in New Hampshire. I had put in the order with Direct Connect, an auto transport broker. They connect you with a carrier who will then physically pick up your car and ship it to your location.

It was supposed to work this way. The broker puts your name up on the board, where all carriers they work with have access, and one picks up the request and notifies the broker. The broker then tells me when they can come get the car, and I give them a yay or a nay.

There must have been some miscommunication, because I got a call early this morning from a carrier who wanted to confirm that he would pick up my car in TO after 5pm today. A few red flags went off in my head. First, I never heard from my broker. Second, I was paranoid because my quote request went to 10 different companies, so I didn't know if one was trying to pull a fast one on me. Third, I need more than 7 hours notice for this. Needless to say, the conversation did not go well, and I ended up calling my broker, who apologized profusely and assured me that he would "scold" their dispatch department, which was supposed to contact me sooner. They did later, but I was still in peeved mode.

I contact the carrier directly around 5:15pm to confirm what time they were going to be there, from an earlier agreement to talk at 5 to see where he is. He tells me that he will be between 7 and 8. I hop on the road right away, and hit dead stop traffic on the west side. It wasn't until after the fact that I was told Johnny Depp's new film, Rango, was premiering in Westwood, and streets were blocked off, effectively slowing down traffic for all of West LA. It took me an hour to go about 4 miles to the freeway.

Needless to say, I did not make it to TO by 7. The good news (if it could be good...how about "less bad") was that my carrier was also running late. Actually, he didn't get into TO until after 9:30p, pulling me from my Valentine's Day date with Jennifer Beals and "The Chicago Code." I had been chilling at a family friend's place, where our family car was being stored. Carrier and I had agreed to meet at the Oaks Mall, since there is more room, and the carrier truck is ginormous. I hop into the family car, turn the ignition, and this ugly, harsh clicking sound emits from the engine. Shit. What's going on? Turns out, the battery was dead. We had to jump it, which we did just fine. And family friend followed me as I drove toward the mall.

It's past 10pm by this time. The carrier is exhausted too, having driven from San Diego, and he had to wait while we figured out the car jumping situation. On the way there, my dashboard lights were doing weird things, and my headlights were flickering. Halfway on the main road to the Oaks, my headlights go out. Then my dashboard display goes out. I press on the accelerator, and that doesn't make the car go faster. Uh oh. I pull over to the side of the road, right as my steering wheel locks up. After this, nothing works. Not even my emergency lights. Good thing family friend was behind me, and she put on her blinkers so no one would ram into us. I call AAA, and juggle that phone call with calls from the carrier trying to figure out where we were. Long story even longer but approaching the end, the carrier was able to jump the car with a jumper box and get the car on the truck. Kenneth will just have his work cut out for him when the car gets to New Hampshire.

(BTW, the post title is from Andrew Lloyd Webber's "Whistle Down the Wind.")

Some random ruminating on music

This was part of a reaction paper I wrote for another class, but thought I'd share it here too:

I had an interesting discussion with a cellist friend of mine today (as I was sitting in traffic on the West Side. Rango, the movie with Johnny Depp’s voice just came out, and they blocked off a few streets in Westwood for the premiere... and I’m sure I can get into a discussion about how pop/mass culture such as a Johnny Depp Hollywood movie can cause physical discomfort and inconvenience for even those not involved, both spatially and temporally, given the power of said culture industry, but I’ll save that for another day), about why young people don’t like classical music. Or why classical music is not popular. My thinking on this is two-fold. On one hand, borrowing from Gross’s notion of symbolic competence, we are not trained competently in music as a language. We do not need music as a foundational competence in order to function in our society like we do linguistic competence (we need to know how to read, write, speak, and understand the English language), and hence, we do not know how to comprehend the musical code. I have encountered many people who say they like classical music because it is “beautiful.” They cannot give a deeper reason as to why they like it. But classical music, or all music, really, should transcend simply being “beautiful.” It’s like saying, I like listening to Italian poems because they sound beautiful, but I don’t understand Italian. We are not trained in the depth of understanding and significance of music as a language. Hence, pop songs use the English language - words - to supplement the music, while rendering the music in these pop songs to the pseudo-differentiated mindless drone Adorno says it is, with conventional and predictable chord progressions that flatter the listener when it is expected and realized. But people who are trained in English as a basic symbolic competency are able to draw a narrative, to draw meanings, from pop music because of its words, in ways that they are unable to draw deeper meanings from the word-less, strictly instrumental pieces of classical music. Hence, a musical competency requires time and education (to go above and beyond the basic competency of the English language), and a certain socioeconomic and class status, which follows Bourdieu’s statement about cultural capital, effectively making classical music cognitively and meaningfully inaccessible to the “masses.”

So the question becomes, how can we change that? What can be done with classical music in order to get more people interested in it? Can we popularize classical music without bastardizing it (like what Vanessa Mae does - example here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=euOu89d3npA)? Can we get people interested in classical music without compromising the purity of music (by techno-fying, or adding rhythms and percussion and a bass beat) that has been in existence for 300, 400 years? Let us set aside, for the moment, that wanting to keep classical music “pure” may be, in fact, problematic in itself. My thoughts are that it is hard to change a culture, to change people’s habits of listening. We have an idea of what entertainment is, of what interesting art is, and classical music just isn’t it. It just ain’t hip enough for the young ‘uns.

New Dawen Video!

All done in one take. Totally acappella, totally crazy, totally awesome, totally Dawen: