Thursday, March 27, 2008

We're Making History Together

It may very well be that when future generations look back on our times, these months may be seen as a major turning-point in history. We're changing society together, and the exciting and far-reaching effects of our mutual collaboration should be clear to all by now.

All thanks to facebook.

Think about it. The internet once was the sole domain of geniuses and uber-geeks. The twin advent of services such as America Online and Prodigy -- along with this interesting little program called a "browser" from Netscape, opened the door to an entire new reality.

For better or worse, the very tech-savvy activities that got poor geeks like me harassed in high-school quickly became part of the dominant social paradigm. Five years ago, who dated on the internet? Ten years ago, how many people even had access to email?

Services like myspace and facebook have opened the door to interconnectivity even further. It struck me today that facebook's "people you may know" feature may be the single greatest networking and reunion tool ever invented. Period.

It seems like everyday that I reconnect with somebody from my past, or link online with a current connection who I did not realize had a facebook account. A very simple bit of algorithmic programming is changing lives.

In the land of media, everything is in a tumult. Walk around New York, and that slight vibration you feel is the record industry shaking in their collective boots. Take the example of jazz artist Maria Schneider, who left her record label, went independent, made more money than she ever did as a signed artist, and proceeded to tour the country and win a grammy. It's only just starting. Thanks to the internet, the previously scoffed-at less-than-2% market share of Classical music is suddenly big business. It turns out that 2% is still a lot to cash in on, and small companies and private individuals are now competing to give musicians the best deal possible.

Caesar isn't dead, but he's on his way to a potentially fatal stroke. You know an empire is about to topple when they become brutal and repressive (thank you, RIAA.)

Your strange favorite band or niche interest is now an international and well-connected community.

Your best friend or crush from grade-school is only a quick away.

With all the moral abuse on the internet, it is wonderful to see that such a simple tool can come around and make the world a smaller, more well-connected place. The end results of such an event cannot be known. We can be certain, however, that this is history in the making. Just imagine: it's only going to move forward from here on out...

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

Bin-Laden Rap and the New Commerce

The clip below comes from the film "Network," and it rings cold, clear, and true, even though it was made in 1976.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MTN3s2iVKKI

Uncomfortable? Yes. True? Absolutely.

In Thomas Friedman's wonderful book "The World is Flat" , he describes a trip into China where Bill Gates was about to speak. Young students were hawking tickets and hanging from the rafters to get a glimpse of the man. As a Chinese-American official puts it in his book:

"In China, Bill Gates is Britney Spears. In America, Britney Spears is Britney Spears. This is the problem."

What do you say about an America that made millionaires out of the likes of Spears, Snoop-Dog, Eminem, the writers and actors of Sex and the City, Tabloid News, and countless other frauds?

I say that it's an America which has gone tragically blind.

If you want evidence of this, simply look at how the more negative aspects of our culture -- say, reality television or hip-hop culture -- have seeped into cultures around the world, while our more noble American characteristics are woefully ignored.

Somewhere out in the world, an Al-Queda terrorist is probably sitting in a cave, listening to gangsta-rap on an ipod.

Now that we have the internet, the entire world is reading again. Or is it? The greatest communication tool is now the new wave of shallowness -- the information is at your fingertips, but do you care to look? Do you even know enough to care?

It's not a matter of opinion, my friends: it's a matter of turning off the tube, clearing your mind, and opening your own eyes.

A sobering thought to end this rant: Do you realize that in a system governed by commerce, the single greatest product is YOU? Your reactions, tastes, fears, and predilections all translate into profit -- or lackthereof. You are being trained. You are being manipulated. The people in charge have a vested interest in keeping your individual thoughts in check.

You are being lead into an intellectual grave. Will you go willingly?

Saturday, March 22, 2008

The Memory Remains.

It is real.

Inevitably at this time of year, my thoughts return to Rome. That fateful spring remains with me, resting in the form of memories which I often draw upon. I can't believe it's been four years already, yet still I have not fully digested those events. The sound of the tram, the smell of the rainy air, the sight of cypress trees, the plaintive intoning of vespers, the look on a worn pontiff's face: I draw life from those unforgettable six days.

The memories remain, but the themes change with each visit. This year, I think to my first trip down into the catacombs, where Christians hid, prayed, and buried their dead in the time of Pagan Rome. I think of the former resting place of St. Cecilia in the catacombs of St. Stephen, or her current resting place in the comparatively newer basilica which bears her name. I remember the former burial places of Peter and Paul, evidenced by thousands of scrawled messages left throughout a Pagan tomb. I remember the coliseum, the ancient marble of St. Peter's, the nearly two-millennium old icons and implements of worship.

When you walk in these places, a person of faith can still smell the blood in the soil. It was in these places where the story of Christ – that which secular professors classify as a mythology – walked straight onto the paths of recorded history. Paul was a real man, and a Roman citizen. Early Christians marked the spot where Peter, urged to flee, instead turned around and returned to a certain brutal martyrdom in Rome. The ruins of the world's greatest empire still stand, though slowly they crumble.

It is a fact: a small group of reformed Jews, following what seemed an outlandish story, toppled the greatest empire in human history. When I kissed the ring of Pope John Paul the Second, looked at his ravaged and careworn face, and perceived that he was carefully listening to me, I saw the end point of history. A miraculous history. A triumphant history. Peter began the process that toppled Pagan Rome. John Paul the Second – the boy from rural Poland – toppled the Soviet Union.

At the inevitable times when my faith suffers, I turn to the greatest tool of Catholic apologetics: the almanac. History, you see, tells an incredible and improbable (if not impossible) tale of a Catholic Church which grew from an obscure sect into the single greatest force in the history of world culture. Not bad, considering the first Pope was an illiterate and cowardly fisherman.

Seen in this light, I no longer worry about corrupt politicians, evil rulers, and peddlers of immorality. Seen in the light of history, the vast din of self-inflicted human stupidity turns into a dull roar, above which clearly ring the bells of goodness.

When I celebrate Easter, I know that I am not partaking in tradition or upholding a myth; rather, I am celebrating history. My history. I know that I am partaking in a triumph. My triumph. My salvation.

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

Niech Zyje Bal!

We are all entitled to the occasional indelible evening.

Surrounded by family and friends, in an intimate locale, in the middle of the city, the scene was set for something magical.

The music seemed to soar, every melody containing a special accent, rhythm falling with both metronomic accuracy and singular human feel.

The drinks flowed, the sound cascaded ever louder, and it seemed like sweet Jesus himself was pouring the wine and dancing along.

What exceptional human defect renders such evenings the exception rather than the norm? Or perhaps it is a modern social defect, and not peculiar to humanity as a whole?

I am the first person to advocate hard work and responsible living. That being said, is it possible that our culture has gotten it backwards? Our leisure, when it finally does come, is a false entertainment. We eschew quality food for fast food. We eschew personal time for internet connections. Most tragically, we eschew great music for a cheap substitute.

I'll never forget another magical evening at the famed Chicago "Blues" club, where the musician on stage was truly presenting a heartrending yet deeply comforting rendition of old-time blues. I heard a conversation behind me between songs, where a guy asked a young woman "what do you think?"

The sweat poured down the bluesman's face as he presented those assembled with the deepest feeling he could muster. The air crackled with energy.

"It's ok, but not really my thing," was all the young woman could say. How sad. How completely, utterly, and infuriatingly sad.

Authenticity in our time spent together is so rare, that we may have lost the ability to perceive it when it occurs. The cheap substitute is now the norm... but I guess if all you've ever had is fast-food, a porterhouse steak might take some getting used to.

Along with those I love, I am often buried in work, studies, and worries. I make every effort to break these doldrums, however, for the sake of simple humanity. It is so disappointing to see folks lose their sense of well-spent time, or to ignore it altogether...

All hard work aside, I think I shall take my new motto from the existentially rich yet simple words of singer/songwriter Maryla Rodowicz, who has long reminded us:

"niech zyje bal!"
(let the ball ever live!)

Saturday, March 1, 2008

Rediscovering Music

The talented guitarist flew into a frenzy, the steel strings coming to a violent but well-earned and satisfying climax. As the piece ended and the enthusiastic applause died away, my friends across the table commented:

"Now we know why you get so angry at the Pop music scene. Why isn't this guy famous? He sounds better than all the famous guitar players that I've heard..."

Why indeed? I am constantly comforted by how easy it is to draw people into the realm of musical discovery. Once they're interested, however, it's hard to keep them there.

Somehow, human beings have a short-attention span for what is best for them.

The truth is that good music -- a staple in any truly well-balanced life -- takes a bit of commitment. Listening is an active process.

I've heard people say: "Well, I listened to Arvo Part's music, but it just doesn't do it for me. It's too slow and difficult. Isn't it all a matter of taste?"

Well, sort of. There is certainly the element of taste in artistic opinion. But "taste" is a developed and refined thing. Most people don't like more difficult forms of music for the same reasons that I've never met a five-year-old who enjoyed wine tasting.

Taste is developed. Just as we (hopefully!) become more advanced and perceptive readers during our lives, reaping the benefits of such abilities in all facets of our lives, listening is a developed process which must be WORKED at.

This entirely explains why people are often able to casually dismiss visual art which they like, but are likely to have violent reactions where music is concerned.

Music takes our time, and it demands that we give ourselves over to the observations of the composer and performers involved. It turns out that listening is not only a developed skill, but one that requires great patience and humbleness.

For my part, after over ten years of working and studying in music, I still wake up every morning with a learning/listening list which will never get shorter. I am constantly amazed at how little I know about my own field.

...and while it doesn't happen often anymore, I'm deeply comforted by the fact that I still come across music which challenges me and leaves me speechless. Recently, I've discovered the orchestral music of Giya Kancheli, the stunning soundscapes of the Cracow Klezmer Band (now known as the Bester Quartet), and the stunning guitar-work and compositions of Andreas Kapsalis. (As soon as Andreas's wonderful wife finishes her vocal album, I'm sure to add her to the list!)

The interesting thing about such artistic experience is that even though I've never met Giya Kancheli, I feel that I wouldn't be surprised by him. Meeting Andreas after one of his concerts, his demeanor and connection-ability was no surprise, considering what he communicated in his music.

I always urge my friends to explore and challenge themselves, knowing that by doing so they can only improve their basic characters. Music may comfort, but it can subtly alter us for the better or worse, as the ancients understood long before us. Certainly some free character-development is something we could all use?