Posts by: jmakansi

For a change of pace, here’s a poem dedicated to the inconsequential in your peripheral vision that still manages to take you out of yourself if only for a moment

Urban Moment

Lonely square, you are out of place

In this vast plane of concrete sidewalk

Deliberately cut, as if for the planting of a tiny bush

In-filled with weeds of tiny broadleaf

You curve the strides of human giants

Who hustle past you, thick Bonzai jungle

As you would appear to an insect or an ant

Break this stride from hotel

To skyward tower of corporate strength

Disrupt this pedestrian’s gait

Intrude on this mind

Consumed with the importance of the day

As a mirror might force a pause

For a look, not at what will be seen by others

Or to check a statement of fashion

But a glimpse into a state of mind

To see hurt where others see happy

To see failure when colleagues see competence

To see ugly when lovers see beauty

As things could or couldn’t be, as they should be, as they want to be

If for only a moment

Plush carpet of green

Of perfect form from the avian view

Like the statuesque order that is Manhattan from the sky

Lonely piece of precise geometry

Tiny emblem on the urban surface

A dash of reflection carved from the day

Lovely square

A brush with the lushness of life

Jason Makansi, October 2009

 

Last night at the Saint Louis Symphony Orchestra’s (SLSO) opening performance of its 130th season, I was struck by the juxtaposition of a contemporary work, Osvaldo Golijov’s “Azul” and Mahler’s 5th Symphony. What struck me was how Mahler’s work was diminished. Imagine that. Diminishing a composer known for being over the top, which only takes away the word “over.” Still on top, if not over, in other words.

Now don’t get me wrong, I love other works of Mahler, particularly the early symphonies one and two (Resurrection). Barring the Adagietto beginning of the last movement (or Part III), the Mahler 5th had little contrast and form compared to “Azul.” Every movement (or section) of the 5th sounded like a finale. Being a writer type, I concluded that Mahler really either needed a good editor to sculpt this work or to file down his ego. It just came off as somewhat muddled, and this I am sure had nothing to do with the Orchestra under David Robertson. Musical fragments struggled to join up into something larger. With the exception, I have to point out, of that Adagietto, in which the aching harp anchors the soul-searching violas for the intro. What an exquisite section.

This “Azul,” though, reminded me of a science experiment in which all you could exclaim at the end is “Eureka!” An experiment gone right. I could best think of the piece as a triple concerto since it had a cello, hyper-accordion (yes, hyper!), and percussion (enough instruments to seat two percussionists). The piece begins with a mournful cello solo but with a promise of something better, more joyous, and, guess what, promise fulfilled! Later (and I don’t remember which movement it was), the cellist sawed into these magnificent arpeggios, the percussion just went freaking crazy, and unconditional joy filled the auditorium. Meanwhile, the hyper-accordion did what I guess it does best, acting really hyper but the sounds emanating are really cool. Apparently, this instrument allows effects like a synthesizer.

But this is life, after all, and joy wants to continue but of course it cannot so a bittersweet section of longing follows. And, yes, there is a trick ending similar to so many of the symphonies of the Romantic Period (when you never quite know when the brash ending chord will sound) but I won’t give it away.

At times, especially early on in the work, the music reminded of a gelatinous mass crawling amorphously throughout the volume of Powell Hall. I mean that in the best of ways. Such an unusual shape to the sound with plenty of interesting things going on at the edges of the mass. It reminded me of Michael Gordon’s music at times (see earlier post).

Thank someone that Conductor David Robertson has a freewheeling imagination regarding contemporary composers and more obscure works of the masters. If you weren’t there, you missed your chance to see the hands of the principal cellist of the SLSO crawl up and down the neck of his instrument like crabs one moment, then as if he was giving a massage the next. Truly a chance of a lifetime to experience the premier of this work in our fair city.

OK, I’m lying. They weren’t dueling at all. But last night’s (September 11, 2009) recital of the Arianna Quartet here in St. Louis featured a Brahms quintet with TWO violas! What a great idea…well, to me it’s great, having played the viola a good part of my life. What was interesting was how the second viola seemed to support the cello line more than the first viola line. So, I am biased, but I found the overall sound to be richer, fuller, and really wondered why chamber music composers haven’t been doing this for years. Brahms is, like, my favorite composer anyway, and Joanna Mendoza, the Arianna violist, had given me private lessons for a few months last year, so bias is dripping from these words. Anyway, I’ve been attending Arianna chamber concerts for at least five years. This is yet another of those cultural treasures that exists in the City of St. Louis, which I would describe as a big city that acts like a small town EXCEPT in its cultural affairs. Also impressive is that Arianna is getting close to filling their regular concert hall, the Lee Theatre at the Touhill Performing Arts Center, University of Missouri – St. Louis (UMSL). Could it be that these wonderful string players are enlarging the public’s interest in chamber music? Check out their next performance and decide for yourself!

In college, I tried to buy an album every week, despite having only $15-20 per week of spending money (and this was NYC) and invariably counting my pennies on Sunday to scrounge up enough for a Hungry Mac’s burger and fries. Having come from Signal Mountain, TN to Manhattan, there were so many new tunes to discover. It was, and still is, a regular source of pleasure I put up there with, well, you probably know, what those pleasures are. I am always on the hunt for new, unique sounds, usually in the category (my own making) of “alchemy.”  This is the mixing, combining, integrating of instruments, styles, genres, etc to make new sounds precious to the ear.

Michael Gordon fits this category. He’s a contemporary composer of, well, some fusion of classical instruments into a penetrating percussive tone and electronica type beats. I have two of his CDs, Weather and Decasia. I also saw a dance piece entitled Natural Selection to one of the cuts off Weather this summer performed by the Keigwin Dance Co at the Joyce Theatre in NYC. Any description I might give of Gordon’s music would probably ruin your initial listening experience, so I will only use one word: Pulsating. Think of a pulsar in space (there’s a nice visual rendition at Wikipedia). From what little I’ve gathered, Gordon is pretty well known around NYC but I’m not so sure about anywhere else. His Wiki entry states that he is a co-founder of the Bang on a Can Festival. That’s probably as good a place as any to start if you’re interested. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michael_Gordon_(composer)

Of the two CDs, I’d start wtih Decasia. Put on an artsy coat and thin black tie, crank it up, get in front of your speakers, and be that guy in those old Maxell commercials. Repeat, with headphones.

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There’s a tremendous amount of fiction out there to read. And the Internet has increased the number of outlets for publishing by an order of magnitude. One of these days I should count average out how many short stories I read a week. I write reviews of story collections for The Short Review (www.theshortreview.com), I am active at Zoetrope, an on-line work-shopping site, I read stories each week from two local writers groups, and now from my new friends from the 2009 Sewanee Writers Conference. Then there are the “published” stories I read in The New Yorker, Narrative, the Atlantic, and several other pubs.

Oddly enough, one of the best stories I ever read from a fellow “amateur” fiction writer was the one that followed mine in my first publication credit, Rainbow Curve (Issue 5, 2004), www.rainbowcurve.com . Matt Getty was the author. I’ve since been looking for and reading his stuff. The other day, I picked up a collection at the bookstore, Best of the Web 2009, or something like that, and I was sitting at a park bench taking a break from my bike ride here in the city of St. Louis and what do you know? Matt had a story in there! I had read the story at one of the on-line journals a while ago. Anyway, “When my girlfriend lost the weight” is a really, really good story. You can find Matt here. http://gettydrafts.blogspot.com/. Check him out. He also has music and videos. He’s a writer to watch. I’ve never met him but I have emailed him a few times. One day, I will like the fact that one of my stories shows up next to one of his. In the meantime, I’ll be looking  for a contact high.

Maybe the first thing I should tell you is why I selected the photograph that greets you at this blog. I worked in World Trade Tower 1 from 1979-1981. Actually, the company I worked for was located on the 95th floor. I spent most of those two years working at a refinery across the river in New Jersey. But for the first six months, I spent a great deal of time in WTC 1 and the Wall Street and South Ferry areas of downtown Manhattan. That’s my personal connection to 9/11. In many ways, I like even better than the buildings the towers of light that were put in place of the buildings about three to six months after 9/11. It was a message of peace and hope to the world. It turned out our government listened to some other messages and now we find ourselves in a military, political and cultural quagmire from the Mediteranean sea to border of China, across the Middle East and beyond. Anyway, when they re-enacted the towers of light a few years later, I found a photographer who took stunning pictures.

This the wall paper on my computer, the graphic that greets you here, and the image I prefer to keep in my mind about that tragedy and its tragic consequences for this nation and the rest of the world.

I went to college in Manhattan (Columbia University), lived there for 12 years, and commuted there for another 10 years from Bucks County, PA. NYC is a part of my life. I am still trying to figure out how I might retire there.

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