Since the pandemic, the Mythopoeic Society has moved its annual conference in alternating years online, and this year's online one was last weekend. I didn't get to much, being busy with reviews, but I did attend a couple panels and papers.
The theme of the conference was to celebrate the 10th anniversary of the publication of the Society's first anthology, Perilous and Fair: Women in the Works and Life of J.R.R. Tolkien. For a Guest of Honor speech, we had the two editors of the anthology, Janet Brennan Croft and Leslie A. Donovan, reminiscing about envisaging the anthology, putting it together, and publishing it. They also talked about their own personal experiences with Tolkien. Janet asked herself why, as a young female reader, she hadn't been irritated by a novel with so few female characters in it. She said she found the answer later when she read Melanie A. Rawls's essay on "The Feminine Principle in Tolkien" - an essay reprinted in Perilous and Fair, making it easier to find. Tolkien's favored male characters have traits associated with women: they're caring, introspective, intuitive. Both Elrond and Aragorn are healers. And so forth.
At the other end of the conference was a panel including several contributors to Perilous and Fair, including Melanie Rawls. They talked about what scholarly work they're doing now - often research into newer fantasy, much of which hasn't gotten much scholarly attention yet. Someone pointed to an article online which seemed to me, when I read it, to be reinventing Melanie's feminine principle. Great minds ... Less cheerily, Robin Anne Reid and others warned about the backlash against feminist and queer readings of Tolkien, seeking to 'reclaim' him as purely masculine, purely Christian, etc. Fortunately, from the scholarly angle at least, more anthologies are in the works following on from what Perilous and Fair did. Tolkien is a multifarious author, and it's impressive how many readings of his work are possible without giving the sense that the scholar is stretching the text to fit.
There were several papers on the forgotten or little-known women of Tolkien's imagination: papers on Aredhel, Melian, the Corrigan (know who that is?), and Robert T. Tally's truly virtuoso paper on the unexaminable topic - because absolutely zero is known about them, but they must have existed - of Orc women. Rob used Tolkien's distasteful comment that Orcs physically resembled "Mongol-types" to extrapolate onto Orcs the customs of Mongols of the Genghis Khan era - if the men went to war, some women went too, and the rest stayed home and ruled the kingdom in the men's absence, applying that to Azog and his son Bolg - after Azog was killed, what role might Bolg's mother have played?
Saturday evening I got to the Tolkien trivia contest. Log on and the moderator would assign you to a team by sending you to a breakout room. I was a little late arriving and was gratified by my team's pleased reaction that I was joining them. We won the contest, too. And I didn't guess all the answers: it was someone else who remembered that the Westron name for Eregion was Hollin. But I knew that before Tolkien read chunks of The Lord of the Rings into a friend's tape recorder, what he first recited was the Lord's Prayer. To exorcise the machine, he said. And, being Tolkien, he recited it in Gothic.
Kalimac's corner: a journal by DB
Monday, August 4, 2025
Saturday, August 2, 2025
Music@Menlo: wind chamber music
This actually took place before the vocal chamber music program, but my review of it wasn't published until today.
Part or all of a wind quintet (flute, oboe, clarinet, bassoon, and horn), with or without piano, played pieces by Beethoven, Mendelssohn, Mozart, and a couple lesser-known composers, with all the piquancy that these instruments can provide.
As with the vocal program, it was preceded a couple days earlier with a lecture, this one on the history of wind instruments, given by one of the actual performers at the concert, oboist James Austin Smith, who was witty and sly.
He made much of the fact that the wind instruments are all different, producing sound in different ways (suggesting that the single-reed clarinet, a relative latecomer to the ensemble, was invented by someone who found the double-reed oboe too difficult to play), noting that, because flutists blow wind across the mouthpiece, that the flute is the only instrument that can be played by sticking it out the window of a moving car. As a result, they all sound distinct.
In the Renaissance, he told us, wind instruments were often played in consorts, larger and smaller (and hence lower- and higher-pitched) versions of the same instrument playing together. And he played us a video of a crumhorn consort honking away. In the late 18th century, the most common form of wind ensemble was one formed of pairs of oboes, clarinets, bassoons, and horns, and Mozart wrote some memorable serenades for this combination or (in the Gran Partita) an extended version of it.
In the 19th century, wind chamber music became focused on the wind quintet, as we heard it in the concert, but there wasn't much music of this kind from major composers until the 20th century.
Part or all of a wind quintet (flute, oboe, clarinet, bassoon, and horn), with or without piano, played pieces by Beethoven, Mendelssohn, Mozart, and a couple lesser-known composers, with all the piquancy that these instruments can provide.
As with the vocal program, it was preceded a couple days earlier with a lecture, this one on the history of wind instruments, given by one of the actual performers at the concert, oboist James Austin Smith, who was witty and sly.
He made much of the fact that the wind instruments are all different, producing sound in different ways (suggesting that the single-reed clarinet, a relative latecomer to the ensemble, was invented by someone who found the double-reed oboe too difficult to play), noting that, because flutists blow wind across the mouthpiece, that the flute is the only instrument that can be played by sticking it out the window of a moving car. As a result, they all sound distinct.
In the Renaissance, he told us, wind instruments were often played in consorts, larger and smaller (and hence lower- and higher-pitched) versions of the same instrument playing together. And he played us a video of a crumhorn consort honking away. In the late 18th century, the most common form of wind ensemble was one formed of pairs of oboes, clarinets, bassoons, and horns, and Mozart wrote some memorable serenades for this combination or (in the Gran Partita) an extended version of it.
In the 19th century, wind chamber music became focused on the wind quintet, as we heard it in the concert, but there wasn't much music of this kind from major composers until the 20th century.
Friday, August 1, 2025
Music@Menlo: vocal chamber music
Thursday I attended one of Menlo's lectures, an introduction to vocal chamber music, prefatory to a concert of some I'll be attending on Sunday.
The lecture was given by the noted tenor Nicholas Phan (pronounced Pan, not Fan), who won't be performing on Sunday but who did illustrate his lecture with projected videos of himself performing works from throughout the history of the repertoire: not live, so he wouldn't have to wrangle on stage all the instrumentalists he was performing with.
Like the lecture on wind chamber music I attended last week (which I didn't describe here, but maybe later), it was divided into two parts: before the 19th century, when there was a kind of hole in the repertoire, and afterwards.
The hole came when the piano developed around 1800 into an instrument capable of virtuoso expressive shading, and the art song with piano became the default vocal chamber music genre. Before that time, music with a consort of lute and viol and other instruments was common. Phan spent a lot of time on the Baroque genre of the cantata, which is not just a sacred music form by Bach as we tend to think of it today; in fact Bach and other Lutheran composers had appropriated what was originally a secular form.
A cantata was typically 15-25 minutes long and consisted of a sequence of numbers in a variety of moods or styles for a single singer, often telling a story. What was really interesting was Phan's description of the revival of the cantata form in recent years, and he had a notable example of it.
It was by Viet Cuong, an American composer whose work I'm familiar with, as he was the composer in residence at the California Symphony a few years back. The title is A Moment's Oblivion, and the ensemble is of Baroque instruments: oboe, violin, viola da gamba, and harpsichord. Its story concerns a man who has lost his memory, but his family find a doctor who is able to restore it. This number presents the man, who - like Buffy after she's returned from the dead in the sixth season - turns out not to be pleased about his restoration. He was happier in bliss without memories.
Here's Phan singing the number. I thought it was a really striking piece of contemporary music.
The lecture was given by the noted tenor Nicholas Phan (pronounced Pan, not Fan), who won't be performing on Sunday but who did illustrate his lecture with projected videos of himself performing works from throughout the history of the repertoire: not live, so he wouldn't have to wrangle on stage all the instrumentalists he was performing with.
Like the lecture on wind chamber music I attended last week (which I didn't describe here, but maybe later), it was divided into two parts: before the 19th century, when there was a kind of hole in the repertoire, and afterwards.
The hole came when the piano developed around 1800 into an instrument capable of virtuoso expressive shading, and the art song with piano became the default vocal chamber music genre. Before that time, music with a consort of lute and viol and other instruments was common. Phan spent a lot of time on the Baroque genre of the cantata, which is not just a sacred music form by Bach as we tend to think of it today; in fact Bach and other Lutheran composers had appropriated what was originally a secular form.
A cantata was typically 15-25 minutes long and consisted of a sequence of numbers in a variety of moods or styles for a single singer, often telling a story. What was really interesting was Phan's description of the revival of the cantata form in recent years, and he had a notable example of it.
It was by Viet Cuong, an American composer whose work I'm familiar with, as he was the composer in residence at the California Symphony a few years back. The title is A Moment's Oblivion, and the ensemble is of Baroque instruments: oboe, violin, viola da gamba, and harpsichord. Its story concerns a man who has lost his memory, but his family find a doctor who is able to restore it. This number presents the man, who - like Buffy after she's returned from the dead in the sixth season - turns out not to be pleased about his restoration. He was happier in bliss without memories.
Here's Phan singing the number. I thought it was a really striking piece of contemporary music.
Thursday, July 31, 2025
tsunami Kohoutek
After the enormous earthquake off Kamchatka, there were properly tsunami warnings across the Pacific. The waves were expected to reach California in the post-midnight hours on Wednesday. But after reports from Hawaii showed smaller waves than expected, people breathed a little easier. And indeed, even in Crescent City - something of a tsunami focuser because of the shape of the bay - the waves were only four feet higher than normal. Which caused only minor and incidental flooding. A huge contrast from the deadly 21-foot waves that hit the city after the Anchorage quake in 1964.
But there's still a lot of sloshing around going around after the quake, and unwary people on the shoreline could be hit and drowned, so stay careful out there.
But there's still a lot of sloshing around going around after the quake, and unwary people on the shoreline could be hit and drowned, so stay careful out there.
Wednesday, July 30, 2025
mystery of beards
The 7/28 New Yorker has a review of a book, Whiskerology: The Culture of Hair in 19th Century America by Sarah Gold McBride, that has not one but two insufficient explanations for the question I've only previously seen entirely different insufficient explanations for, namely what was the cause of the Wave of Beards that settled on the faces of most middle-to-upper-class European and American men in the mid 19th century?
McBride's first explanation is that it was an attempt to show white male virility in the face of the rise of the supposedly emasculating suffragist movement. Besides being inane (as noted by the reviewer, Margaret Talbot: "Did men really need beards to remind anyone that they were in charge?"), this explanation doesn't fit chronologically, as the suffragist movement was an odd minor cause at the time the Wave of Beards began. It became a major public movement at the time that the beards were going away.
McBride's second explanation is white men fearing African American barbers with straight razors. Whatever you might think of that as an explanation in the US (I place it in the "inane" category), it wouldn't apply in Europe, yet the Wave of Beards settled on faces there too.
I noticed an error which I'm not sure if it is McBride's or Talbot's. Talbot writes that "J.D. Vance is the first Vice-President since the nineteenth century to wear a beard while in office." That's not quite true. While there were 5 Presidents with beards in the olden days, there were only 2 such Vice-Presidents: Schuyler Colfax (1869-1873) and Charles W. Fairbanks (1905-1909). So, not quite 19th century.
McBride's first explanation is that it was an attempt to show white male virility in the face of the rise of the supposedly emasculating suffragist movement. Besides being inane (as noted by the reviewer, Margaret Talbot: "Did men really need beards to remind anyone that they were in charge?"), this explanation doesn't fit chronologically, as the suffragist movement was an odd minor cause at the time the Wave of Beards began. It became a major public movement at the time that the beards were going away.
McBride's second explanation is white men fearing African American barbers with straight razors. Whatever you might think of that as an explanation in the US (I place it in the "inane" category), it wouldn't apply in Europe, yet the Wave of Beards settled on faces there too.
I noticed an error which I'm not sure if it is McBride's or Talbot's. Talbot writes that "J.D. Vance is the first Vice-President since the nineteenth century to wear a beard while in office." That's not quite true. While there were 5 Presidents with beards in the olden days, there were only 2 such Vice-Presidents: Schuyler Colfax (1869-1873) and Charles W. Fairbanks (1905-1909). So, not quite 19th century.
Tuesday, July 29, 2025
concert review: Music@Menlo
So my second Menlo review of the season was of a violin-and-piano recital. Not my normal fare, but I covered it OK.
The review was rather longer than ideal, which must be why my editors cut the material on two of the shorter pieces. I also decided for space purposes to omit any discussion of the preceding Prelude concert. Each piece on a Prelude program is performed in two of those concerts, and this was the second time for Shostakovich's Piano Trio No. 2. I heard both of them, in fact, having been on campus the previous day for a lecture. More on that later. Friday's performance of the Shostakovich wasn't as devastating as Thursday's, but it was more compelling and clear, and the Dvorak Op. 87 piano quartet that came with it was equally passionate.
Sunday I took a break from Menlo and went to a local children's theatre production of Guys and Dolls. The actors ranged from 11 years old, which was grotesquely young for a show like this, to 16, which was just barely old enough to look like they knew what they were doing. The performers knew their lines, I'll give them that, but their voices were small and lost-sounding. There was no amplification and the music was canned. The lead singing was mostly OK, but when Sky tried to harmonize with Sarah on "I've Never Been In Love Before," he shouldn't have.
The review was rather longer than ideal, which must be why my editors cut the material on two of the shorter pieces. I also decided for space purposes to omit any discussion of the preceding Prelude concert. Each piece on a Prelude program is performed in two of those concerts, and this was the second time for Shostakovich's Piano Trio No. 2. I heard both of them, in fact, having been on campus the previous day for a lecture. More on that later. Friday's performance of the Shostakovich wasn't as devastating as Thursday's, but it was more compelling and clear, and the Dvorak Op. 87 piano quartet that came with it was equally passionate.
Sunday I took a break from Menlo and went to a local children's theatre production of Guys and Dolls. The actors ranged from 11 years old, which was grotesquely young for a show like this, to 16, which was just barely old enough to look like they knew what they were doing. The performers knew their lines, I'll give them that, but their voices were small and lost-sounding. There was no amplification and the music was canned. The lead singing was mostly OK, but when Sky tried to harmonize with Sarah on "I've Never Been In Love Before," he shouldn't have.
Monday, July 28, 2025
two more Tom Lehrer items
that I forgot about while writing my previous post. Like the others, they're about my appreciation of his work.
9. Fact proven scientifically: If you take four Jewish boys attending a science-fiction convention on Thanksgiving weekend, and put them in a car going out for a dinner expedition, and the car drives past an early Christmas display, all four of them will spontaneously and simultaneously begin singing Tom Lehrer's "A Christmas Carol." And they won't stop until it's done, because of course they all have the song completely memorized.
10. You've heard of two-finger typists? I am a two-finger pianist. There are two tunes I can play two-fingered: one of them* is Tom Lehrer's "The Irish Ballad" and the other isn't.
*which I learned from the sheet music, thank you
9. Fact proven scientifically: If you take four Jewish boys attending a science-fiction convention on Thanksgiving weekend, and put them in a car going out for a dinner expedition, and the car drives past an early Christmas display, all four of them will spontaneously and simultaneously begin singing Tom Lehrer's "A Christmas Carol." And they won't stop until it's done, because of course they all have the song completely memorized.
10. You've heard of two-finger typists? I am a two-finger pianist. There are two tunes I can play two-fingered: one of them* is Tom Lehrer's "The Irish Ballad" and the other isn't.
*which I learned from the sheet music, thank you
Tom Lehrer
I don't have to outline his accomplishments, as I did when the even more venerable and astonishingly similarly-talented Sheldon Harnick died. So instead I'll say these:
1. My parents saw Tom Lehrer perform in person. They went to the hungry i during his residency with the songs that were recorded there and became his album That Was The Year That Was.
2. They also had all his albums. That included his own personal-label 10" issues of his first two albums. Not the original pressings, I'm sure, but those issuings. I still have them all today.
3. But I don't play them, because I bought the CD set The Remains of Tom Lehrer as soon as it was published. That was one of two such collections I bought; the other was of Allan Sherman.
4. As a child, I would have said that I liked Tom Lehrer second among the musical comedians whose records we had. Sherman was first. Third was Stan Freberg. It took me a while to grow into Lehrer's humor.
5. But I had by the time I went to university. It was about then that Lehrer's "The Irish Ballad" became the first original song whose lyrics I memorized.
6. A few years later, of course I went to see the musical revue Tomfoolery when a touring company came to our area.
7. Tom Lehrer trivia item no. 1: He is not the only person to have written a song titled "Poisoning Pigeons in the Park." His is, however, the only one worth listening to.
8. Tom Lehrer trivia item no. 2: Here's Lehrer on The Frost Report adapting "New Math" to Britain's conversion to decimal currency.
1. My parents saw Tom Lehrer perform in person. They went to the hungry i during his residency with the songs that were recorded there and became his album That Was The Year That Was.
2. They also had all his albums. That included his own personal-label 10" issues of his first two albums. Not the original pressings, I'm sure, but those issuings. I still have them all today.
3. But I don't play them, because I bought the CD set The Remains of Tom Lehrer as soon as it was published. That was one of two such collections I bought; the other was of Allan Sherman.
4. As a child, I would have said that I liked Tom Lehrer second among the musical comedians whose records we had. Sherman was first. Third was Stan Freberg. It took me a while to grow into Lehrer's humor.
5. But I had by the time I went to university. It was about then that Lehrer's "The Irish Ballad" became the first original song whose lyrics I memorized.
6. A few years later, of course I went to see the musical revue Tomfoolery when a touring company came to our area.
7. Tom Lehrer trivia item no. 1: He is not the only person to have written a song titled "Poisoning Pigeons in the Park." His is, however, the only one worth listening to.
8. Tom Lehrer trivia item no. 2: Here's Lehrer on The Frost Report adapting "New Math" to Britain's conversion to decimal currency.
Sunday, July 27, 2025
donut scroll
I went up to the independent bookstore's counter as the two clerks and a customer were avidly discussing donuts: what kinds they like and dislike, what's good and what isn't. They solicited my opinion.
I said, "I'm a heretic. I think the Krispy Kreme is one of the most vile things I've ever tasted."
And they all agreed with me.
Really? I thought everybody loved the Krispy Kreme except me, which is why I phrased myself in that defensive manner.
So where do I get donuts?
I didn't say that I don't, not very often, because sugary treats have to be low on my priority list. But I did say that when I do, I go to little local donut shops that around my home are usually owned by people of Cambodian origin. I specified where I live: mind, that's 20 miles away from the bookstore and the ethnic/cultural mix is quite different there, but they seemed to know what I meant.
What variety? I usually get a chocolate-covered raised, and a chocolate cake if I'm getting two. I don't like jelly, I don't like cream.
What about fritters? the conversation turned. Are they donuts? Probably not, we decided. Are they not croissants? What? No, even less. But they're still good.
The same thing's true of pizza, even music. I should have mentioned bagels. And why, since we were in a bookstore, didn't we bring up genres of fiction? Saying that something doesn't belong in a class isn't a criticism, it's just a matter of proper classification. You have to understand what something is to appreciate it properly. Trying to stuff it in a category where it doesn't belong will only lead to unfair criticism of it for failure to be something it isn't.
I bought my book (nonfiction) and went on my way.
I said, "I'm a heretic. I think the Krispy Kreme is one of the most vile things I've ever tasted."
And they all agreed with me.
Really? I thought everybody loved the Krispy Kreme except me, which is why I phrased myself in that defensive manner.
So where do I get donuts?
I didn't say that I don't, not very often, because sugary treats have to be low on my priority list. But I did say that when I do, I go to little local donut shops that around my home are usually owned by people of Cambodian origin. I specified where I live: mind, that's 20 miles away from the bookstore and the ethnic/cultural mix is quite different there, but they seemed to know what I meant.
What variety? I usually get a chocolate-covered raised, and a chocolate cake if I'm getting two. I don't like jelly, I don't like cream.
What about fritters? the conversation turned. Are they donuts? Probably not, we decided. Are they not croissants? What? No, even less. But they're still good.
The same thing's true of pizza, even music. I should have mentioned bagels. And why, since we were in a bookstore, didn't we bring up genres of fiction? Saying that something doesn't belong in a class isn't a criticism, it's just a matter of proper classification. You have to understand what something is to appreciate it properly. Trying to stuff it in a category where it doesn't belong will only lead to unfair criticism of it for failure to be something it isn't.
I bought my book (nonfiction) and went on my way.
Thursday, July 24, 2025
rain of errror
Reagan: His Life and Legend, Max Boot. (Liveright, 2024)
I found this large book in the library, picked it up and browsed the section on how Reagan won the 1966 California gubernatorial primary, a rather curious story. Boot gets the full tale right, so I checked the book out. Highly readable, discusses all of Reagan's career including both the artistic and economic sides of his movie-tv period. Does not stint on pointing out his habit of telling untrue stories as if they were true, his insistence that he wasn't racist while craftily making racist appeals, his strange evolution from a New Deal Democrat to a Barry Goldwater Republican, his presentation as a personable and friendly man while being completely alienated from all his children. Also explores why, then, he was so damned popular, partly that personable presentation and his quick-wittedness and (selectively) sharp memory, partly because his rather rigid acting background made him so good at speech-making but also because he was so good at writing his own speeches, something you don't expect of either an actor or a politician. Boot likes to end chapters with cliffhangers, which read oddly if you already know what's going to happen, like the chapter introducing his presidential administration which concludes, "And yet his presidential performance almost ended just sixty-nine days after it had begun."
And yet despite the sure command of detail, I found a few clanging factual errors. One of them appears twice:
1) After his wedding to Nancy and a reception in Toluca Lake, "Then the newlyweds drove sixty miles west in Ron's Cadillac convertible to Riverside, California, to spend their wedding night at the historic, Spanish-style Mission Inn." (p. 193)
2) His ranch ownership: "Reagan used part of the proceeds from the sale of Yearling Row to buy 778 acres in Riverside County, west of Los Angeles, for $347,000." (p. 285-6)
No, Max: Riverside is east of Los Angeles, not west. Drive 60 miles west from Toluca Lake and you'll be somewhere around Ventura.
In other erroneous news, I've discovered that there's a vast horde of people who've posted podcast videos on YouTube explaining things about Tolkien. If these were written down, I could glance over them quickly, but I'm not going to listen to them, especially as the only point of my doing so would be to see what they got right and what they got wrong. I did begin one which started with an outline of Tolkien's literary career, but stopped dead early on when the podcaster described The Hobbit as featuring "a large-footed creature called Bilbo Baggins." Oh, dear. Tolkien's hobbits are not "large-footed." They have hairy feet with leathery soles. Read the book, that's what it says. It's only in the movie that the necessity for prosthetic feet on the actors make their feet larger than normal. Don't describe the movies when you claim to be talking about the books.
I found this large book in the library, picked it up and browsed the section on how Reagan won the 1966 California gubernatorial primary, a rather curious story. Boot gets the full tale right, so I checked the book out. Highly readable, discusses all of Reagan's career including both the artistic and economic sides of his movie-tv period. Does not stint on pointing out his habit of telling untrue stories as if they were true, his insistence that he wasn't racist while craftily making racist appeals, his strange evolution from a New Deal Democrat to a Barry Goldwater Republican, his presentation as a personable and friendly man while being completely alienated from all his children. Also explores why, then, he was so damned popular, partly that personable presentation and his quick-wittedness and (selectively) sharp memory, partly because his rather rigid acting background made him so good at speech-making but also because he was so good at writing his own speeches, something you don't expect of either an actor or a politician. Boot likes to end chapters with cliffhangers, which read oddly if you already know what's going to happen, like the chapter introducing his presidential administration which concludes, "And yet his presidential performance almost ended just sixty-nine days after it had begun."
And yet despite the sure command of detail, I found a few clanging factual errors. One of them appears twice:
1) After his wedding to Nancy and a reception in Toluca Lake, "Then the newlyweds drove sixty miles west in Ron's Cadillac convertible to Riverside, California, to spend their wedding night at the historic, Spanish-style Mission Inn." (p. 193)
2) His ranch ownership: "Reagan used part of the proceeds from the sale of Yearling Row to buy 778 acres in Riverside County, west of Los Angeles, for $347,000." (p. 285-6)
No, Max: Riverside is east of Los Angeles, not west. Drive 60 miles west from Toluca Lake and you'll be somewhere around Ventura.
In other erroneous news, I've discovered that there's a vast horde of people who've posted podcast videos on YouTube explaining things about Tolkien. If these were written down, I could glance over them quickly, but I'm not going to listen to them, especially as the only point of my doing so would be to see what they got right and what they got wrong. I did begin one which started with an outline of Tolkien's literary career, but stopped dead early on when the podcaster described The Hobbit as featuring "a large-footed creature called Bilbo Baggins." Oh, dear. Tolkien's hobbits are not "large-footed." They have hairy feet with leathery soles. Read the book, that's what it says. It's only in the movie that the necessity for prosthetic feet on the actors make their feet larger than normal. Don't describe the movies when you claim to be talking about the books.
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