Bangor Symphony, why must you be so awesome?!

This will be my final post as a college or university student: the next time I write, I will be home cuddling cats, hanging out with my parents and healing from a brutal final year. This blog will continue, though I have yet to figure out what sort of form it will take.

Also, I can never pass up an opportunity to gush about the Bangor Symphony Orchestra. Brace yourself.

Monday: This was one of those field-trip classes: we met at the Dalhousie Art Gallery to view that part of Beat Nation, which is a show that has been toured around, having originated in Vancouver. It's so big that it's normal for the show to be split between two galleries--in this case, the Dal Art Gallery and the Saint Mary's University Art Gallery. The show is about First Nations peoples and hip-hop, and I thoroughly enjoyed it.

That day was so warm that I took my coat off on the walk back to NSCAD--and treated myself to a gelato at Humani-T Café (they have some of the best gelato that I've had outside of Italy).

Tuesday: Exam Day for Twentieth Century Art. To quote an email to Lynn, "I wrote more than last time (not writing enough was one of the things that led to me getting a D on the midterm), I tried to make my definitions as thorough as possible (another thing that set me back last time), and overall I'm happy. I've done my best. Since my appointment with Joan, I haven't done much that would qualify as work [...]--and nothing that would qualify as schoolwork (I plan to do some work on my independent project this evening, as it needs attention and most of the time I enjoy editing photos), which feels weird. Though both Kathryn--a family friend who lives in England--and Mom said in comments on Facebook to take a break."

Wednesday: I took that day slowly as well, but managed to do some work on my independent project.

Thursday: Being able to sleep in that morning felt weird (I can sleep in? Great! But are you sure about that? Positive?). During the afternoon class I found out that that was my penultimate university class: with the exception of the last Contemporary Indigenous Arts class, there's nothing this coming week--all we have to do for Topics in Modern Canadian Art is drop off our finals to Ken Rice's office, which is a minute or less from the Photo Dept.

Friday: I spent the day working on my final for Contemporary Indigenous Arts and checked out Reel Injun from the Visual Resources Collection, as I'm doing one of my final papers for that class on the film that had the deepest impact on me, and that one was the first that came to mind.



Saturday: I got a very late start to the day--and I wasn't thrilled about that, as I had finals to write for Monday. However, I did get a fair amount of stuff done, including finishing the gallery review and starting work on the paper about Reel Injun. Bonus: I got to watch the movie while I wrote (I had to pause it every now and then to write things down as they occurred to me)!

I didn't realize that the BSO had a concert coming up on Sunday until I saw this photo. Go violins! Even better: the orchestra would be playing to a full house--exactly what the BSO deserves, especially when performing Carmina Burana, which is a very powerful, knock-your-socks-off piece. Mozart's thirty-fifth symphony (the Haffner) was also on the program (it was the first half of said concert), a fact that I'd completely forgotten. But is it any wonder, given how much of a show-stopper Carmina is?





I love how the audience erupts in applause at the end. And who can blame them? They've been holding it in for just over an hour!

Sunday: Carmina Burana Day. I listened to part of it as I walked to school, and, for the first time ever, zeroed in on the violin part. Usually I take the orchestration for that work as a whole, not focusing on a specific instrument--but because I knew a couple of people (Lynn and Trond) who would be playing it about two hours after said walk to school, I focused on what they would be playing. Verdict: the violin part alone is impressive. July sixteenth, when that concert will be broadcast on MPBN radio, can't come soon enough. After finishing Reel Injun, I listened to the Mozart, which, at about twenty minutes, is incredibly short for a symphony. It's the exact opposite of the Orff in that it's very tame. As I wrote in a Facebook status update, the Haffner "[allows] the Bangor Symphony Orchestra to give it their all in knocking the audience's socks off with the Orff. Brilliant. To whoever chose the music for today's concert, well done!" How I wish I could've gone to the concert--if I were going to school in the Bangor/Orono area, I definitely would've gone, especially if I were a student at the University of Maine (the orchestra's home, the Collins Center for the Arts, is on the UMaine campus). Blow off studying for finals for two hours and get my socks knocked off by the BSO in the process--wonderful (double that when you add in the strong violin part in the Orff and the BSO's violin section's habit of taking an awesome violin part up a few notches). Bonus: student tickets (you have to be a full-time student) are USD$13, including the $3 processing fee that's applied to all tickets--and, unlike regular-priced tickets, student tickets are the same price no matter where you sit. Wonderful! I'm so jealous of students in the Bangor/Orono area right now. How I wish I could've gone. Bangor Symphony, why must you do this to me? Why?!

Okay, I think that's enough gushing about the BSO. **scoffs jokingly** Typical favourite orchestras and violinists. Bangor Symphony Orchestra, I love you--and I can't wait to hear today's concert on MPBN on July sixteenth (START THE COUNTDOWN!). Go violins!

In the midst of all this BSO-induced excitement (which is all in a day's work for me), I wrote my final essays for Contemporary Indigenous Arts.

barely enough time to catch my breath

So much for wanting to be done school...

Monday: Another one of those nonstop studystudystudy days--when not in class.

Tuesday: I had my usual appointment with Joan--and then spent the rest of the day studying.

For several years I have wanted to take a music history course. I know a lot of music history, but it's all through my own research (which has been ongoing since I was a little kid watching Beethoven Lives Upstairs--a kids' movie that I highly recommend for anyone, regardless of age. In fact, I'll post it below and you can watch it right now.)--I've never taken a course.



Part two (embedding has been disabled).



Part four (once again, embedding has been disabled).



After the hell that I went through this year, I wonder if I'd be able to live with him, given his temper (which was due to lead poisoning, as was his deafness). However, unlike the person who's been so nasty to me this year, Beethoven was genuinely sorry once he cooled down, admitted where he went wrong, sought forgiveness, worked to smooth things over--and didn't hold grudges.

Wednesday: More studying.

I found out via the BSO's FB page that, like the Met, their broadcast schedule is available online. I plan to listen to the concerts titled Appalachian Spring (which also features Beethoven's sixth, one of my favourite symphonies) and Carmina Burana (who am I to miss out on the knock-your-socks off power of the BSO combined with that work??). The first concert, which was performed earlier this month, will be broadcast on June fourth and Carmina will be performed on April thirteenth and broadcast on July sixteenth--two days before my twenty-sixth birthday! BRING IT, BSO! If you've never heard that orchestra play, you should. I don't just gush about it because I know a couple of the musicians--I gush about the BSO because it has my socks knocked off. If you're outside MPBN's broadcasting range and want to listen to the orchestra (or anything else), click here.

Thursday: The afternoon class was more of a marathon viewing of short movies than anything else.

That day, I found a course that was what I'd been looking for. It's through Guelph University (Ontario). I won't be taking it for a little while, though.

Friday: You guessed it: more studying.

Saturday: As the Met was performing an opera by Alban Berg, one of the few composers whose style I don't really care for, I had to look elsewhere for my Saturday music fix. I opted to gorge myself on Carmina Burana, which I think I listened to three times in a row. Thanks, BSO! I hadn't listened to it in far too long, anyway.



Sunday: I worked on a surprise for those who helped me through this year and, yes, studied.

I also set up an appointment with someone who's interested in subletting my half of the lease at my apartment. Tomorrow's going to be a busy day between that, an appointment with Adrian, class, and a friend's MFA thesis show opening--in that order. **whew!**

the final push toward The End

The Mister Rogers obsession continues (at least in its current form--I've been a fan since I was a kid)...

Monday: This half of the semester I have had to work harder than I've worked since FVA. In some ways I love it (I don't like it when things are too easy--which probably explains some of my love for the violin and French horn, though I was initially attracted to those instruments because of their sound), but in others I hate it, the stress that results from times like this being one of the main reasons. And when I get stressed out like that, I begin to doubt myself and whether I'll get everything done on time (thankfully, since finishing FVA, I've managed to pull through times like this beautifully).

This time, I was stressed out about my midterm paper for Contemporary Indigenous Arts, which I just barely managed to proofread and print before dashing off to class.

Tuesday: Tuesday was one of those days where I planned to get stuff done, but due to various appointments that were higher on the priorities list, most of the other things didn't get accomplished.

I did have my appointment with Joan. An hour after that I met with Jayne to talk with her about my midterm. I'm going to have to work like you wouldn't believe to pull off the rest of the semester and offset my crappy midterm mark.

While watching Mister Rogers' Emmy interview (during which I found out that he was colourblind) that evening, I found this quote that really speaks to what I've been through this year and the support I've received. It is one of several things that have appeared over the past week or so (starting with the documentary that triggered the current obsession). Yet another reason why I don't believe in coincidence.

"It's the little epiphanies of life that matter most. It's those moments when somebody will tell you, 'you know, you really did help me in a way that you could have never known, just by being there, and just by being you.'"--Mister Rogers

The quote is from this video.

Wednesday: Readreadread, writewritewrite.

Thursday: I emailed The Fred Rogers Company (formerly Family Communications, Inc., which distributed Mister Rogers' Neighborhood), sharing with the people there (many of whom worked with Mister Rogers and have been with the company for decades) my experiences of watching the show as well as how Mister Rogers and his message continues to play a huge role in my life, especially as I'm champing at the bit to finish university. I also quoted part of last week's post (the last two paragraphs in the Saturday section) and included the above quote and how it is relevant to the support that I have received. As the thought of writing to Mister Rogers didn't occur to me until after he died, this was a way of making up for that.

When Alex came into the computer lab to turn off the computers that night, he asked me how I was. I let loose and told him about the fact that I'm more than ready to be done school, both because of what I've been through and because I'm just ready to be finished school, which I wasn't when I graduated from NBCCD (the final day was incredibly bittersweet and when I got back to my place I burst into tears). He said that that's often the case: either students aren't ready to leave or they're champing at the bit like I am.

When I came home that night, I found out that my internet had disappeared and I couldn't get it back.

Friday: More reading.

That night I called EastLink. They did everything they could on their end and... nothing. It's a problem somewhere in my computer, which is both good (it's limited to only one computer) and bad (no internet on my computer).

Saturday: Because I had to read and write so much on a fairly tight deadline, I had to forego my weekly dose of the Met (sorry, guys) as this week's opera was in English and I can't read or write and listen to singing in a language that I understand at the same time (meaning that Italian's out, as I understand enough to have a rough idea of what's going on, as is the Habañera, as I have that song memorized in French and roughly memorized in English). I'm not much of a fan of Baroque opera, but I loved The Enchanted Island when it premiered a few seasons ago (it's a fairly new pastiche--i.e., a mashup--that the Met commissioned).

Sunday: This week I have to do a presentation with a couple of my classmates on two current art shows: one local (we picked the Art Gallery of Nova Scotia) and one national. We met at school on Saturday and made our picks and then then met again on Sunday, this time at the AGNS (home of Maud Lewis' teensy little painted house). We had initially chosen one of the shows there, but ended up choosing a different show (also at the AGNS) that grabbed our attention right away and that made the initial pick seem dull in comparison. That means that we have to come up with a new pick for the national show, as the initial pick for the national one tied in with the show at the AGNS that we'd picked and then decided not to profile.

Afterward, I went back to the college and wrote for the rest of the afternoon and finished the gallery review for Twentieth-Century Art.

That evening, Tom called me on my cell and we tried to troubleshoot my internet problem. No luck.

I spent the rest of the evening--you guessed it--reading and writing. Currently, all I have to be concerned about is my midterm for Topics in Modern Canadian Art (due on Thursday--I'm so glad Carla gave us an extra week to do it) and possibly another response paper for Contemporary Indigenous Arts (I wrote one this weekend, which is number three--that means I have to write at least two more by the end of the semester). No rest for this university student.

homestretch. I can get through this.

Brace yourself for more gushing about a certain awesome violinist and friend. If it weren't for her, I have no idea where I'd be at this point. I certainly wouldn't have survived the despair during the fall semester as well as I did (and sometimes it almost pulled me under). However, there's a second victim this week.

Monday: Back to the grind. When I had a look on Sunday evening at what I had to do for the coming week, I saw that there were some readings that needed to be done for the next day, so I dug in. I continued reading on Monday, went to class and then finished the readings afterward.

Tuesday: We had a field trip to the Mount Saint Vincent University Art Gallery to view their current show, which we're to write a gallery review on. If my numbers are correct, this will be show review number five for me.

Lynn replied to an email that I sent over the break. In a postscript I'd said that I want to call her once the semester's over and I'm home because of what I've been through and the resulting need to have a good, long conversation with her. While there are a few issues to resolve as to what form the conversation's going to take (I wouldn't be surprised if we go the Skype route), THIS THING IS GOING TO HAPPEN!

I spent my appointment with Joan telling her about my break. It was also an extension of my last blog post, in that I gushed about a certain awesome friend (not the first time). As I said during the appointment in between howls of laughter, "Lynn, stop being so awesome! No, I take that back--don't stop!"

Wednesday: That day I hit a point where I couldn't wait for the semester to be over (probably my exhaustion speaking). I had another run-in with the person with whom I haven't been getting along, and let's just say that that conversation with Lynn can't come soon enough, and for a few days I kept thinking, "just a few more weeks and you'll be out of here. You'll be free. Hang in there. And remember: once this is over, YOU GET TO HAVE A NICE BIG DOSE OF LYNN'S CALM, GENTLENESS, KINDNESS AND OVERALL AWESOMENESS!" I reminded myself of that when I started to worry. Once again, Lynn was the main one keeping me going, simply by being in my life (thank you). I've decided that that call will officially mark the beginning of the healing process, because if I can start it awesomely, I will.

You know I'm almost done my degree when you start to hear about my post-school plans: figure out how to repurpose this blog, finish The Book and heal from what I've been through with the help of an awesome friend (and yes, get a job, start paying off the loan ASAP--I'm not waiting six months, as the interest will start piling up as soon as my study period ends on May first--start really getting my name out there as a photographer and update my website--it's needed an update since I started at NSCAD, but I haven't had or made the time to get it done--I'm estimating at least two afternoons of going through my projects, selecting the ones that are possibilities, whittling them down to a final selection and then resizing and posting those images).

Since I heard this song for the first time, in 2006 when André Rieu recorded it on his New York Memories album, it has always made me think of Lynn. I hadn't listened to it in several years, but I dug it out that evening. Like I said last week, I think everyone should have a friend like her: someone to whom they can go with everything, from excitement to despair.



Thursday: I got my Twentieth-Century Art exam back, and... I bombed it. As I told Jayne, I haven't done this poorly since FVA. I wasn't thrilled. Jayne suggested taking the course again, but that isn't an option: after five years of college and university, I'm champing at the bit to finish, which she understood.

As was the case after Christmas break, I was running on fumes by that day--especially since I only got about four hours of sleep the night before, which is half of what I need in order to function (don't want to think about it, don't want to think about it...).

Friday: I spent the day reading and working on my independent project. ...and had yet another run-in with the person with whom I haven't been getting along. Yep, the semester can't end soon enough. Ugh.

Though I will say that not only do I want it to be over because of what I've been through, I want it to be over because this year I finally hit the point where I was ready to be done with school (for a while: I haven't ruled out the possibility of a B.Ed. in art education).

Saturday: Mom shared this to my FB timeline that morning. Needless to say, I have to see the whole documentary--and given what I've been through, a little Mister Rogers, whose show I grew up on, is just what I need right now (again, calm, gentle, kind--I'm noticing a theme here. I know what I need in order to survive the rest of the semester and then recover.). Roughly seventeen years after I stopped watching the show five days a week every week, I'm still a devoted fan and I respect that man and his work deeply.

I spent the afternoon and evening reading and writing--and listening to the Met perform Prince Igor (which just happened to be simulcast #75). I remember when the BSO performed the Polovtsian Dances a few seasons ago (I believe it was in the season finale). I choreographed the piece, and spent almost the entire season wrestling with a particular violin part, which was incredibly frustrating, but I eventually figured out some choreography that worked.



That night, I found episode one (at least on NET, the forerunner of PBS--the show originated on CBC in '63) of what was then known as MisteRogers' Neighborhood, something that I'd wanted to see for years. Part one and part two (which, sadly, is incomplete). It's interesting seeing what's changed and what's stayed the same since that episode aired on February nineteenth, 1968 (wow). By the way, my favourite person on that show (besides Mister Rogers), Betty Aberlin, is now seventy-one--she's been on the show since the beginning. In case you're wondering, my favourite puppet has always been Queen Sara (pic here). I'm glad I watched that show when I was little: it's one of those shows that you never forget and that, even when you're twenty-five and it's been off the air (at least officially) since 2008, the last episode having originally aired in 2001, you can still hunt down on YouTube and other video streaming sites and seek comfort in. It's the only show that I watched as a kid and have returned to years later. J.K. Rowling has said that "Hogwarts will always be there to welcome you home"--well, I think there should be a phrase like that for the Neighborhood, as that's how I feel about it: I've grown up, I watch other shows, that one has been off the air for six years, Mister Rogers has been dead for eleven years--but I still feel that it's home and that I can return whenever the heck I want, thanks to the internet and video-sharing sites like YouTube (sorry it's so repetitive--but I feel so strongly about that show and about Mister Rogers that I'm not going to change it).

Wherever you are, thank you, Mister Rogers.



Sunday: I found this on the CBC Music Facebook page. Brace yourself: the first movement of Beethoven's fifth--in a major key, which sounds downright weird.



I spent the afternoon and evening writing the take-home exam for Contemporary Indigenous Arts, which is due today (again, essay form--but this time I could flip through the course pack instead of trying to pull facts out of my head, which will hopefully result in a higher grade than what I got for Twentieth-Century Art). I'm still working on it, in fact. After five years of college and university, my time-management skills should be better than this...

just when I thought I had it all (or 95% of it) figured out...

When I did my research project on what sort of camera I wanted to get next, Drew cautioned me about getting a new one right away because my skill level might go up while at NSCAD, and I might outgrow said cam like I did during the first year of the photography diploma at NBCCD. While my skill level has gone up, it hasn't affected what I demand of a camera. Instead it's affected the kind of art I want to make and my future plans. This is one of those times when I think I have it all figured out and then everything changes. It's happened before: a few years ago, I expected to be out on my own and doing my own thing by now. I'm still living at home and struggling to find a job.

FVA opened me up to different ways of creating, and I fell in love with art-making all over again (when I wasn't stressed out about getting my assignments done on time). I was exposed to possibilities that I hadn't known existed--see Denise Richard, Adam MacDonald and WhiteFeather. Being the artist that I dreamed of being was possible after all!

Fast forward to convocation 2012 and I had most of my plans figured out and how I was going to accomplish them. Fast forward again to September '12--whoa! There go most of my plans. Although I still want to do portraiture and dance photography (me + other artists of just about any media = I'm the happiest woman in the world), I'm being exposed to the more artistic and conceptual side of photography and am throwing myself into it more fully than I ever have in my life. The first semester was a bit of a push to think that way and I wondered if I was going to burn out in the process, but the second semester I was right back at it and having a blast. And it got me to thinking: I want to do more of this at a professional level. I want to be a fine artist, not just a photographer who hangs out with a backdrop doing portraits for clients (either in a studio or on location). I want to do work that would only be at home in a gallery (and then hopefully someone's living room wall). I want to apply for grants and use said grants to make art. I want to do residencies (anywhere--Canada, North America, somewhere else--just as long as it isn't a war zone and I can do my thing properly, which means electricity). I may even turn to crowdfunding, e.g., Kickstarter, at some point.

Thing is, I've almost always been surrounded by one way of doing art, and that way is "money first". Yes, in our capitalist society money matters. I need money to pay off the student loan (grrrrrrrrr...), eventually buy a car and get my own house/apartment, get new camera equipment (rechargeable batteries don't last forever), pay for Photoshop once I upgrade from CS6, which will be when what would've been CS8 is released, because I've been upgrading every two versions since I got my first laptop, which means that I have thirty-six months between versions (though I will say that I despise their new subscription-only format, and will hold onto CS6 as tightly as possible for as long as possible). Back on track (whew!), said "money first" approach generally means (for me, anyway) focusing on the commercial aspect of photography rather than the artistic side. I'm told that creating art is fine, but it shouldn't be your main thing because you won't make much money. I know that, but I still want to make art a bigger part of my career than my plans currently state (currently it's down at, oh, item number eight, if not lower). One of the things that I remember Peter telling my class is that if you're a photographer you have to work your butt off for the first ten or so years of your career before you really start to "make it" as an artist. And I realize that I may not end up being the next Ed Burtynsky (though I photograph different things than he does), but who says I can't dream? I may not get to that point, where my images are selling for thousands of dollars a pop, but then again it may end up happening--you just never know. Personally, I wouldn't mind having my work shown in a venue like the National Gallery of Canada (a show there = you've officially "made it").

NSCAD's unofficial motto is "nolo facere insipida", "after John Baldessari's lithograph I will not make any more boring art" (the official motto being "Head, Heart, Hand": [the] school's 'heart' beats as a unique independent art educator; the 'head' is the creative spirit of all who have a connection with the school and its historic good works; the 'hand' is the physical energy and assistance commanded out of loyalty to the school in ensuring its long-term well-being"), and I take said motto seriously. Although I will have to make boring art sometimes in order to make a living, when I don't have to I won't--I'll make art that lives up to Baldessari's words.

Thing is, I need to be able to create and experiment like I need air. If I'm not pushing myself creatively what's the point of life? Many of the artists and musicians that I admire are people who push the limits of creativity, and I aspire to be like them. Gene doesn't make boring art, neither does WhiteFeather. Beethoven didn't--in fact, if it weren't for Beethoven Gene wouldn't be writing music the way he does. I don't want to be a game-changer to the extent that Beethoven was (and Beethoven lived back in the day when artists had patrons), but I'm not exactly someone who will accept the status quo. I want to challenge the old ideas--and yes, I am idealistic.

Some young musicians dream of becoming a famous soloist when they grow up. I never wanted that: during the time that I wanted to be a violinist, I wanted to be a musician in an orchestra. Now, if this were music instead of visual art, I'd be leaning more toward being a soloist. Maybe play in an orchestra, but I'd also be a soloist in my own right. Photography and music are two completely different disciplines, but they are both art--and it's all the same in that it's difficult to "make it". By always wanting to be an artist of some kind, I've never chosen the easy path, anyway. But I prefer the challenge. I don't want to always skip through life because my work is fuelled by both the easy and the difficult times. And yes, I have to state to my parents that yes, this is what I want and I'm going to go for it no matter what. Photography isn't just about the more commercial side, just as painting isn't all about what'll sell--look at the Impressionists (though I do want to sell my work during my lifetime--I'm not Monet).

I will have to spend some time over the next year or so figuring out how I can/want to do this. How much time will I spend on art as opposed to other kinds of photography? How will I do it while still making ends meet and paying off the student loan (I've learned this past year that I'm happy not being the richest person out there--just as long as I know that I have enough to pay the bills and loan, buy food and other important things, buy new cam batteries every four or so years and new equipment every now and then, pay for Photoshop once I switch to the Creative Cloud version, go to PBSO concerts--tickets are just $10 each--maybe go to a movie once or twice a year, and get some new music and books every now and then, I'm happy)?

As I was writing this, I thought of chapter two, The Top Hat, from Sophie's World by Jostein Gaarder (Google's preview of that chapter is so awesome that you can read the whole thing), which discusses how, although we start out life being amazed by the world and everything in it, we eventually get used to life. The fact that we're told that the things that amaze us are just ordinary and nothing to get excited about and to shut up and sit down doesn't help matters. Like Sophie, I am aware of this and I never want to lose my childlike wonder at the world. Devoting more time to fine art is a way of holding onto said wonder.