T he new recording of Gene Pritsker’s ‘William James’s Varieties of Religious Experience: A Chamber Opera’ is beautiful—musically and dramatically.
W illiam James was fascinated by what he termed our ‘selective interest’—our harmoniously adjusting ourselves to things seen and unseen. In the sea of evolving, conflicting stimuli in which we are immersed, we pay attention to a small subset of things... mostly things that match our predispositions and expectations: our interests and beliefs. A renowned psychologist and pragmatist and empiricist philosopher, James in the late 19th Century set about to assemble evidence that could reveal whether and how experiences that are gated by interests and beliefs in things unseen can catalyze positive changes in people—especially when people attach symbolic or emotional/spiritual importance to the experiences. “Explore the peculiarities of this attitude... All our attitudes... are due to the objects of our consciousness... the things we believe to exist. We feel a presence in the room... definitely localized... coming suddenly, and suddenly gone... I felt myself to be the less ‘real’ of the two...”
I n VRE (p. 55), James says “so far as religious conceptions are able to touch this reality-feeling [of objective presence of the Other] they would be believed in spite of criticism, even though they might be so vague and remote as to be almost unimaginable... even though they might be such non-entities in point of ‘whatness’...”
Gene Pritsker, guitar
Greg Baker, guitar
Dan Barrett, cello
Larry Goldman, contra bass
Lynn Norris, soprano
Chanda Rule, mezzo soprano
Marc Molomot, tenor
Charles Coleman, baritone
Chester Layman, narrator
Kim Pritsker, narrator
D elicate, taut, and incisive writing. Beautiful interplay between instruments and voices, between the rhythm/melodies/harmonies and the text. ‘Synaptic’ guitar picking; a really elegant solo improvisation on Track 5.
T he guitars-cello-bass instrumental ‘presence’ pervades the whole—this fact plus the fact that the voices in the foreground are so crisp and tangible make it seem as though the instrumental parts must collectively be ‘God’. But then the timbre of the voice changes, and I’m doubting that my sense of that was right. Maybe this is sonic evidence for some sort of pantheism? Everything is divine... everything that’s not being deceptive, anyway.
P ritsker’s ‘William James’s VRE’ is not a contemporary event-centric historical opera per se (not a “headline opera” about a famous historical figure and a famous moment in history, a la John Adams’s ‘Doctor Atomic’, on J. Robert Oppenheimer and the Manhattan Project to create the atomic bomb). Sometimes event-centric works feel too self-referential—‘program music’ or a suite of ad hoc ‘concept’ compositions that are too overtly seeking adherents.
T his chamber opera is not like that. It’s far too unpredictable! It does, though, share with historical operas an attractive ‘topicality’ in terms of (a) dramatizing interrelated subjects (spirituality; religion; multiculturalism; tolerance) that have plenty of currency these days and (b) grounding these in the life of one well-known historical protagonist.
I really admire the judicious excerpting of William James VRE texts for this libretto! Attention to the unbiddenness of how we recall things: verses, that bubble up in our minds, contrary to our ambitions or plans.
M any passages from James’s book (VRE) are dense and literary: the sentence structure was meant to be read by readers of 100+ years ago. When spoken aloud in this opera, these words engage our minds in provocative ways that highlight the finiteness of our attention as well as the alienness of the century-ago culture that produced the notions in VRE. Our relation to the music that is being performed while the voice-over narration is going on is altered, far more than happens in ‘conventional’ opera.
W hat’s more, some of the narrators/texts are more ‘reliable’ as narrators than others. Each is clearly earnest in his/her own way, and yet some of them make statements that are more accessible or less accessible to us, given our own beliefs and style and inclinations/disinclinations to share our feelings in ways that resemble what the narrator is doing. Listening to these different narrators/singers, we’re led to recognize more of what we ourselves are doing: selectively filtering, giving and getting, allowing and forbidding.
T he opera and the ‘arc’ of the 8 tracks of the recording ably convey dramatic tension of setting out on a journey to explore the diversity of spirituality; of encountering many instances and types of experience; of empirically assessing each of these; and finally integrating and summarizing what we’ve found out.
T he 43-min performance time is just sufficient to develop the ideas and the ambience and characterizations, and bring things in for a satisfying “landing”.
T he sound has warmth and intimacy throughout, perfectly matched to the subject and content. Beautiful performances by all, plus excellent engineering and production values on the recording.
I ’m uplifted by this new Pritsker CD—impressed by the authenticity of music that “had to come out”, had to be composed, had to exist. There is a wonderful ‘meta-meta’ aspect to the work as well. It is as though Pritsker has created a sonic picture of ‘William James’s Red Mood’ (see Arthur Danto’s famous book of 30 years ago, link below)—plus a further picture, an abstract minimalist exemplar of geometrical art which happens to be lush and sensuous and red and pulsating—plus yet a further picture, a metaphysical painting based on the fact that James knew the Nirvanic and Samsara orders are identical and that the Samsara world is fondly called the Red Dust by its deprecators.
J ames near the end of VRE says “Religious mysticism... is much less unanimous than I have allowed... It is dualistic in Sankhya and monistic in Vedanta” (VRE p. 336). He maintains that, rather than being adversarial or conflictual, the varieties of spiritual experience can in fact be harmonious with each other... there can be rapproachment between individuals and religions that hold what appear to be incompatible ‘over-beliefs’. James says that this can be done by looking to everyday feelings and to everyday acts—however unplanned and discordant with ambitions and ideologies as they may be—looking to these as comprising the essence of real religion (VRE p. 397).
T his opera by Gene Pritsker honors that Jamesian notion. The opera—and this recording—are a welcome invitation to self-discovery, to mutual respect and tolerance for the spirituality (or lack thereof) of others, and to joyous, mindful living in community. Look for the CD when it’s released in February. Very worth your listening!
R eligion...is a person’s total reaction upon life.” — William James, ‘Varieties of Religious Experience’, 1902.
A genuine first-hand religious experience like this is bound to be a heterodoxy to its witnesses, the prophet appearing as a mere lonely madman. If his doctrine prove contagious enough to spread to any others, it becomes a definite and labeled heresy. But if it then still prove contagious enough to triumph over persecution, it becomes itself an orthodoxy; and when a religion has become an orthodoxy, its day of inwardness is over.” — William James, ‘Varieties of Religious Experience’, 1902.
Y ou will enjoy and be inspired by the new recording by guitarist/composer Gene Pritsker and his ensemble, SoundLiberation.
Gene Pritsker, electric guitar
Greg Baker, electric guitar
David Gotay, cello
Mat Fieldes, double-bass and electric bass
Joe Abba, percussion
T he original chamber opera from which this VRE Suite derives was orchestrated for narrator, tenor, soprano, mezzo soprano, baritone, 2 guitars, cello, and double-bass.
[50-sec clip, SoundLiberation Ensemble, Gene Pritsker, Varieties of Religious Experience, ‘Everything Else Might Be a Dream’ (track 3), 2010, 1.6MB MP3]
T he Suite progresses in 8 tracks (64 min) from ‘Introduction’, a musical exposition of William James’ early views on psychology of religion, through James’ subsequent reconsiderations of his thought (‘Closer to Me than My Own Breath’, track 5), to an account of Tolstoy’s spirituality, to William James’ “conclusion” (track 8). There are myriad textures here that invite meditation. Accessible, stimulating chamber music throughout—although I do hope someday to experience the VRE opera. The theatrical gestures in here make me curious about the VRE libretto and staging. What texts did Pritsker choose, I wonder?
T he last peculiarity of consciousness to which attention is to be drawn in this first rough description of its stream is that it is always interested more in one part of its object than in another, and welcomes and rejects, or chooses, all the while it thinks.” — William James, ‘Principles of Psychology’, 1890.
M any of the published reviews of Pritsker’s work note that he challenges musical boundaries. Uh, yes he does. Exceptionally curious and inclusive rather than aggressive or confrontational, Pritsker and his collaborators explore passionate new expressions based on jazz, world rhythms, machine rhythms, lyricism, and the spirit.
W hat interest, zest, or excitement can there be in achieving the right way, unless we are enabled to feel that the wrong way is also a possible and a natural way?” — William James, ‘Dilemma of Determinism’, 1884.
T he VRE Suite is full of tasteful improvisation, sturdy melodies and voice-leading, strong ‘grooves’. Mystical it may be, but VRE Suite is far from ‘enigmatic’. It positively asserts that your cosmic, mystical experience is as genuine as my mystical experience; or as genuine as that of any organized religion.
R eligion, therefore, as I now ask you arbitrarily to take it, shall mean for us the feelings, acts, and experiences of individual men and women in their solitude, so far as they apprehend themselves to stand in relation to whatever they may consider the divine.” — William James, ‘Varieties of Religious Experience’, 1902.
A ccording to theists’ Argument from Religious Experience, people have “religious experiences” — mystical or supernatural experiences, like angels or ghosts. Theists say that, because we believe other experiential claims people make — that they ate spaghetti last night, or they have a pet cat — then we should believe these claims as well. Theists say that, when skeptics insist on different, more stringent standards for assessing the veracity of claims based on religious experiences than they do for claims based on other experiences, they are prejudiced against religious claims. This prevents them from understanding and believing. William James entertained this argument in his Varieties of Religious Experience. He proposed that all normal persons do have religious experience and, since empirical experience is the final arbiter of truth, then God—as one object of religious experiences—must be accepted as factually true. A problem, though, arises in the variety of religious experiences: if there were just one true God, why is there such wide variety in religious experiences? They are mutually inconsistent, so at least some experiences must be false. There are no independent criteria we can use to separate true experiences from false experiences — not only others’, but our own. There are no independent criteria; there can be no independent criteria; all criteria rely upon the validity of some religious system, a Bible or the Koran, or some other sacred text—some of them, or all of them, must be false.
R eligions have approved themselves; they have ministered to sundry vital needs which they found reigning. When they violated other needs too strongly, or when other faiths came which served the same needs better, the first religions were supplanted.” — William James, ‘Varieties of Religious Experience’, 1902.
F or any who are unfamiliar with William James (1842-1910), I should point out that James was not a Christian. He was religious in his own way, but he was hardly a monotheist. William James published his ‘Varieties of Religious Experience’ in 1902 and, subsequently, many theists have taken bits of his writings out of context to support their arguments. But at bottom James was a Rationalist, and he did not believe in a personal God who enters history or personally responds to people’s prayers. Gene Pritsker’s VRE Suite likewise evokes a diverse range of spirituality while broadly extending respect and tolerance to all forms.
A n act has no ethical quality whatever unless it be chosen out of several all equally possible.” — William James, ‘Principles of Psychology’, 1890.
P ritsker offers a unique look at trans-textual relationships between the poetic text and musical text; between the chamber music creative tradition and new ways of crossing boundaries of genres and orchestration; between the Western canon of chamber music thought and non-traditional, jazz-derived ways of intimacy; and between the ideology of chamber for chamber’s sake and the opposite: the ideology of chamber musicians’ active ethical engagement in, and attention to, social issues.
T he total possible consciousness may be split into parts which co-exist but may mutually ignore each other.” — William James, ‘Principles of Psychology’, 1890.
Chamber operas are a good example of new “ideological,” stylistic and technological approaches to composition. They are emblematic of a transition from musical thinking that was orthodox and conservative to more heterodox, multi-layered forms.
T he Hell to be endured hereafter, of which theology tells, is no worse than the hell we make for ourselves in this world by habitually fashioning our characters in the wrong way.” — William James, ‘Principles of Psychology’, 1890.
P ritsker uses isorhythmic patterns in the first several tracks, retrogrades in ‘The Less Real of the Two’, and allusions to the rondo form in ‘William James’ Conclusion’.
G enius, in truth, means little more than the faculty of perceiving in an unhabitual way.” — William James, ‘Principles of Psychology’, 1890.
T he predominant texture in the VRE Suite is ‘pointillistic’ and tense, but not in the acoustic sense of guitars or pizzicato passages in the cello or double-bass. VRE Suite is organized through a contrapuntal juxtaposition and alternation of single notes, short gestures, and gestural ‘units’ that are based on certain ‘privileged’ pitches and intervals and chosen beat-divisions. Complex linear constructs are mostly melismas—especially exposed in the guitars, but also in the cello part.
T he transition from tenseness, self-responsibility, and worry, to equanimity, receptivity, and peace, is the most wonderful of all those shiftings of inner equilibrium.” — William James, ‘Varieties of Religious Experience’, 1902.
I t is interesting that in the first parts of the Suite the individual notes and gestures are distributed across the whole available range in each instrument, with emphasis given to irregular, “nervous” rotations of leaps and step-wise motion. A kind of self-less, anonymous, transcendent texture emerges as a result. Such an approach has a lot to do with post-serialist compositional methods, even if Pritsker would be happier to disavow this.
I ntegrity—a unified/unifying collective voice that is robust against the ensemble members individuality and rhythmic complexity—is assured by a technique based on manipulations of similar timbral and gestural units (motives, minimalistic ones or otherwise). The groups of repeated units establish a sonic architectural continuum and create a durable terrain governed by intervals and timbres of desire between consenting adults.
R omeo wants Juliet as the filings want the magnet; and if no obstacles intervene he moves towards her by as straight a line as the filings. But Romeo and Juliet, if a wall be built between them, do not remain idiotically pressing their faces against its opposite sides like the magnet and the filings. Romeo soon finds a circuitous way, by scaling the wall or otherwise, of touching Juliet’s lips directly. With the filings the path is fixed; whether it reaches the end depends on accidents. With the lover it is the end which is fixed; the path may be modified indefinitely.” — William James, quoted by Mortimer Adler.
B eyond the ‘Introduction’, VRE Suite becomes more and moredialectical, but in a good way. Gestures of disparate provenance react against each other, animating each other not killing each other off, bringing passages to life (?reincarnating them). The gestures (revealed by guitars, cello, and drums) alternate against a double-bass ostinato. There is much joy and comfort to be had in this...
P ritsker’s use of unusual cello-electric guitar timbres should be considered from a psychological rather than a technological point of view. “Technical” in nature, these timbres intensify the poetic metaphor or enhance the emotional power the music exerts on us, inscribing us, carving us as it goes...
W e are spinning our own fates, good or evil, and never to be undone. Every smallest stroke of virtue or of vice leaves its never-so-little scar.” — William James, ‘Principles of Psychology’, 1890.
I n James’ writing, Pritsker has found a congenial source of conceptual and artistic inspiration. William James himself embodies the contradiction of a spiritual man and rationalist. There is something of the prophet as well as a “martyr” in him, despite his wealth and Harvard credentials and social standing... He was aware of the necessity to combine intellectual effort with social intervention and his own convictions. His writings are humorous, perhaps inadvertently so. His entirely serious meanings are embedded in an “innocent”, “childish, “naïve”, “life-is-short-so-what-the-hell” surface. His psychological writings amount to an exotic kind of poetry influenced by folk literature, supernatural beauty, pain of life, and religion.
T ake the happiest man or woman, the one most envied by the world, and in nine cases out of ten his/her inmost consciousness is one of failure. Either his/her ideals in the line of his/her achievements are pitched far higher than the achievements themselves, or else he/she has secret ideals of which the world knows nothing, and in regard to which he/she inwardly knows himself/herself to be found wanting.” — William James, ‘Varieties of Religious Experience’, 1902.
T he complexity of James’ poetic texture and his multi-spectral style must appeal deeply to Pritsker. It is amazing how masterfully Pritsker explored the opportunities offered by James’ poetic vocabulary.
P ritsker’s compositions (including chamber music, chamber operas, electroacoustic and orchestral works, rock, and hip-hop) have been performed widely (Berlin Philharmonic; Adelaide Symphony; Brooklyn Philharmonic; Athens Camerata; and others). He has also collaborated with Joe Zawinul on film scoring projects.
C reatures extremely low in the intellectual scale may have conception. All that is required is that they should recognize the same experience again. A polyp would be a conceptual thinker if a feeling of ‘Hello! Thing-um-a-bob again!’ ever flitted through its mind.” — William James, ‘Principles of Psychology’, 1890.
I believe that we stand in much the same relation to the whole of the Universe as our canine and feline pets do to the whole of human life. They inhabit our drawing rooms and libraries... They are tangent to curves of history the beginnings and ends and forms of which pass wholly beyond their ken. Just so, we are tangent to the wider life of things.” — William James, ‘Pragmatism: A New Name for Some Old Ways of Thinking’, 1907.
Michael Smetanin’s ‘Obsession’ for tenor saxophone, electric guitar, cello, double bass, piano, and drumkit (1995)
Irinel Anghel’s ‘El Enigmes II’ for electric guitar, cello (with processing), bass guitar, and tape (2001)
James Tenney’s ‘Septet’ for 6 electric guitars and bass guitar (1981)
Salvatore Macchia’s ‘Onde’ for double bass and guitar (2000)
Brian Ferneyhough’s ‘Trittico per G.S.’ for double bass (1989); Seven ‘Tableaux Vivants’ depicting the Angel of History as Melancholia; Stelæ for Failed Time)
T he sound of the harpsichord resembles that of a bird-cage played with toasting-forks... No, it is more like two skeletons copulating on a corrugated tin roof.” — Sir Thomas Beecham, British conductor (1879-1961).
S omtimes I cannot leave well-enough alone. An amateur guitarist friend at work was showing me his nice, new pick—made of some exotic ceramic material. The manufacturer of the pick is very mysterious and non-forthcoming with regard to what the “specially-formulated”, lubricious, hard material is. But junior Archimedes that I am, I go and measure it—measure its density, etc.—and I suspect (but do not know for certain) that it is boron nitride.
I think: “That is really cool! But why should guitarists have all the nice toys? What about harpsichordists?”
T here are all sorts of other technical materials that are used for musical instruments that are specially selected or constructed so as to achieve physical properties that vary by desirable amounts, in desirable directions.
T hink graphite violin bows: how far they have come in the past 20 years. Think Michel Wegen graphite-epoxy composite guitar picks. Think ceramic composites in jet engine turbines. Think exotic dental composites and orthopedic surgery ceramic composites. Think yttria-stabilized zirconia cutlery in your kitchen!
I n one of my former lives, I did some semiconductor engineering and physical electronics. I have a slab of silicon nitride lying around. I look up the Young’s modulus (elastic modulus) and other physical properties of the silicon nitride and compare it to the properties of Delrin™ and of bird quill. Hmmm. I go down to my basement shop at home and begin slicing up my little left-over silicon nitride slab into plectra-shaped bits.
T he machining of the plectra is pretty straightforward, if you are a rockhound and have some lapidary and faceting tools and some diamond bits for your Dremel MotoTool™ (or comparable 20,000 rpm flexible-shaft hand tool). I used 400-grit diamond for most of the cutting, and 14,000-grit and 30,000-grit cerium oxide powder for the polishing work.
T he ceramic surfaces are polished to nanometer smoothness so that they will not abrade the harpsichord strings.
H ere is a drawing of my ceramic plectra:
T hey are quieter and slipperier than Delrin™ plectra. The sound of the harpsichord tongues and jacks would not be at all affected by these exotic ceramics. The “ceramic vs. Delrin™ vs. quill” noise differences I’m talking about are only about the noise of the plectrum tip itself, just as it slips against the deflecting string before the plectrum excursion (or string deflection) is large enough that the plectrum releases the string.
I think the only person who can possibly hear the “scritch” of Delrin™ acetal plastic against the strings is the performer a few inches away. With nitride, there is no plectrum-against-string noise at all.
T o everybody else, the pleasant harpsichord “action-falling” sounds with ceramic plectra like these should be identical to the ordinary mechanism quilled with conventional plectrum materials.
R emains to be seen, but I suspect these technical ceramics may give much lower “wear” compared to Delrin™ or quill? Much less frequent need for re-voicing and re-quilling? Other advantages?
I do suspect that plectra made out of such ceramics will, in general, give a “brighter” sound—maybe brighter than purists would find desirable, who knows? But the toughness of these materials might open up new horizons of harpsichord dynamics and expression.
A nd I have no doubt that the “springiness” (nitride elastic modulus ~ 200 GPa, compared to Delrin™ and bird quill elastic modulus ~ 3 GPa) will give a ‘faster’ action than Delrin™ or quill.
H ere is a little Excel spreadsheet I put together, modeling the stiffness of Delrin™ plectra of different dimensions. (I have a similar spreadsheet for my silicon nitride plectra.)
W hat else? The nitride materials do not undergo ‘work-hardening’. They do not get brittle like Delrin does with elapsing time and more playing. And the nitride composites have very low coefficients of friction (somewhat lower than zirconia, as I recall). Other advantages, too.
A nyway, the possibility of helping to advance the state of harpsichord technology intrigues me. Why is the ‘business end’ of the harpsichord sound-producing mechanism still stuck with Delrin™, same as Hubbard and others used 50+ years ago!
A lso, you may want to give a look at Lorna Gibson’s new materials science book, on composites (link below). More ideas for innovative plectra materials! No reason why homogeneous, nearly-isotropic (same properties in all directions, along all axes) like Delrin or ceramics is the only way to go.
G reat strength is necessary in the fingers, yes, but it comes with playing, if one plays rightly—that is, musically. From the moment one senses that the finger must ‘sing’, it becomes stronger. That is quite a different matter from playing exercises or etudes merely for the sake of strengthening, and saying ‘I must exercise my fingers and make them strong.’ Such playing as this latter sort does not help at all.” — Vladimir Horowitz.
M y guitarist-pianist friend and colleague at work comes and visits with me this week, says that for more than a month he’s been doing exercises to strengthen the lumbrical muscles in his hands. The left hand has been responding, but the right hand—especially the ring finger and pinky—has been staying the same or, paradoxically, might even be getting weaker.
H e worries about focal dystonia. (Jason Solomon of Georgia Guitar Quartet has an excellent article about that here.) He worries about carpal tunnel syndrome (CTS). I am not a neurologist, but I know enough to know when to go and hire one. I ask my friend about whether he has any numbness or difference in sensation among the fingers on the right hand, or between the right and left...
T he fact that my friend is a professional software developer/engineer who spends 70+ hours at a laptop keyboard each week is something the neurologist will need to know, as part of the evaluation—in addition to the heavy hours on guitar and piano. In other words, if what my friend is experiencing is some type of repetitive stress injury (RSI), then characterizing the various types and intensities of repetitive motions will be clinically important.
T he state-of-the-art of hand biomechanics and hand problems of musicians have been a recurring interest for me for some years, so, in response my friend’s immediate situation, I go online and scan the current medical journal literature, to see what, if anything, is new in the last year or two. For his benefit and maybe for your own, I gather some relevant things together in the list of links below.
W here exactly is the ‘carpal tunnel’? The carpal tunnel is the narrow space anatomically between the small carpal bones of the wrist and the ligament called the flexor retinaculum. Here’s how you can find it: Put your left index finger in the center of your right palm, then move the finger about two inches down your palm toward your arm, stopping when your finger approaches the edge of the fleshy part of your hand. Your finger now lies directly over the carpal tunnel. The carpal tunnel is the U-shaped depression with carpal bones below and on either side. The flexor retinaculum ligament stretches over the top of the ‘U’ to make a tunnel-like space. The cross-section of the tunnel is only a centimeter or so, and nine flexor tendons (two to each finger and one to the thumb) have to pass through that little tunnel. The space is so narrow that some of the tendons are bundled on top of each other instead of going side-by-side the way they do outside the tunnel.
B esides tendons, the median nerve also goes through the carpal tunnel. By contrast, the ulnar nerve does not run in the carpal tunnel. The median nerve supplies most of the palm, the thumb, the index finger, the middle finger, and part of the ring finger. The first and second lumbricals (i.e. the two that are most ‘lateral’ on the radial side; index and middle fingers) are innervated by the median nerve. The third and fourth lumbricals (i.e. the most medial two; middle, ring, and little fingers) are innervated by the deep branch of the ulnar nerve. So if what’s going on is actually CTS, then you might expect weakness predominantly in lumbricals and/or interosseous muscles serving the thumb or index finger or middle finger or maybe the middle fingerward side of the ring finger. And you might think ‘ulnar neuropathy’ if the ring finger and/or pinky are predominantly affected.
B ut, gee, knowledge of the neuroanatomy of peripheral nerves in your arm and wrist and hand only gets you part of the way toward figuring out what is going on. In part, this is because of the interconnections elsewhere, including the motor cortex in your brain. Besides clinical evaluation, electrodiagnostic (EDX) tests are usually needed to confirm the diagnosis.
T he lumbrical and interosseous muscles are important in several motions—including flexing and plucking, increasing and diminishing the ‘spread’ of the fingers, and extending/raising the fingers. The lumbricals are used during an ‘upstroke’ when you are writing with a pen or pencil. These are the muscles that make the fingers separate and spread out or, alternately, converge and come together. The lumbrical muscles, with the help of the interosseous muscles, simultaneously flex the metacarpophalangeal (MCP) joints while extending both interphalangeal (IP) joints. In bats and other animals, these muscles are the ones that enable them to spread the wings and grab the air at one instant and flex and draw them in a few tens of milliseconds later and let the air go. If a bat acquired a repetitive stress injury of its lumbricals, on both sides or one side different from the other, it wouldn’t have long to live. Same thing for a seal: you can’t swim and catch fish if your lumbricals are faltering. Serious musicians—people whose livelihood or soul depends on playing—worry about this, as intently as a seal or bat.
T he EDX testing for these conditions is steadily getting more sensitive and more precise. For example, Sheehan and coworkers (link below) studied people referred with suspected carpal tunnel syndrome (CTS) by measuring the ‘second lumbrical-interosseous distal motor latency difference’ (2LI-DML) as well as by other, more standard tests like ‘median-ulnar palmar velocity difference’. The referred cases included 74% who turned out to be CTS. Sheehan suggests that 2LI-DML, which is a more sensitive test than other nerve conduction velocity tests for detecting mild abnormalities, is useful as a screening test for latent CTS on the asymptomatic side.
M otor distal latency (MDL) differences between the median-thenar and ulnar-hypothenar (M-U) muscles and between the median-second lumbrical and ulnar-interossei muscles (2L-INT) have also recently been used to diagnose early or ‘mixed’ cases. After all, there is no law of Nature that says a person can’t have CTS and UNE or CTS and focal dystonia at the same time. In people in whom the conventional nerve conduction tests are so far ‘normal’ despite the symptoms they are having, the neurologist can measure both motor and sensory W-P conduction and in a large percentage of cases this can establish a diagnosis.
U lnar neuropathy at the elbow (UNE) is the second most common compressive neuropathy of the upper limb. Compared to ‘ulnar neuropathy at the elbow’ (UNE), ulnar neuropathy at the wrist (UNW) is rarer and more difficult to localize with routine electrodiagnostic (EDX) tests. In terms of expectation-setting, it is reasonable to anticipate that it may take some time (and multiple visits) to establish an accurate diagnosis and decide on the right treatment plan. In general, these are not things that can be sorted out in a single, quick office visit.
T he important thing—if you are having symptoms like the ones my guitarist friend is having—is to get yourself examined by a neurologist who is experienced in problems of performing artists and who has the equipment and training to perform the newer EDX tests that are available. You can search for practitioners who are diplomates of the American Board of Electrodiagnostic Medicine here. I regret that I don’t know what comparable search resources there may be for consultants having EDX professional certifications in other countries.
N umerous accounts of Albéniz’s life have been written... Even a cursory examination of any half-dozen of them soon reveals, however, that they are all plagued by inconsistencies and contradictions. This one says he was a stow-away on a Steamer in Cádiz and traveled to Cuba when he was twelve; that one says that the steamer was bound for Buenos Aires, not Havana; another says that it left from La Coruña, not Cádiz. This one says that he studied for nine months in Leipzig; that one says 18 months; another, 3 years. This one says that he studied with Liszt in Weimar, Rome, and Budapest; that one says that he studied with him for a year but only in Italy; another says that he played for Liszt but once, in the summer of 1880. And so it goes, throughout his life.” — Walter Clark, Guide to Research, p. 3.
T he birthday of the brilliant, prevaricating, self-mythologizing, perpetually leave-taking Catalan-emigre composer-pianist Isaac Albéniz (29-MAY-1860 – 18-MAY-1909) is today.
[50-sec clip, Guillermo Gonzáles, Isaac Albéniz, ‘6 mazurkas de salon, Op. 66: No. 5. Christa’, 1.6 MB MP3]
[50-sec clip, Guillermo Gonzáles, Isaac Albeniz, ‘Souvenirs de Espagne: Asturias’, 1.6 MB MP3]
A t age 7 Albéniz passed the Paris Conservatoire entrance examination at the Paris Conservatoire. Bored following the exam, he took out a ball from his pocket and broke one of the Conservatoire windows while he was ‘playing’ with it. The authorities denied him Conservatoire admission on account of this incident. By age 12, he’d run away from home at least 9 times... Clark’s and others’ biographical writings about Albéniz are a delight—full of wonderful enigmas. Hell on wheels.
I n fact, it’s fascinating to read these biographies in parallel—read one for fifteen minutes, then switch to another, then switch to another, and another.
I think this is the best way to do it, and probably the way that would please Albéniz most. You should never allow the apparent veracity of any one of the accounts to win your devotion. Each one should remain at most a mere semblance, a sketch only, as good or shaky as any of the others. Read the biographies while you listen to recordings of Albéniz’s music, multiple performers’ multifarious interpretations of the same pieces... many excellent new recordings have recently appeared—including the ones of performances by Guillermo Gonzáles, who is himself very capable of Albénizian mythologizing.
G onzález, born in Tenerife, is one of Spain’s leading artists and a prominent champion of Spanish music. A professor at the Conservatorio Superior de Madrid since 1975 and concertizes throughout the world, he has appeared in Spain, France, China and around the world. His many recordings include releases of music by Scriabin, Hallfter, de Falla, Antón Abril, de la Cruz, Carlos Cruz Castro, Turina, and Teobaldo Power, for which he received the Premio Nacional del Disco in 1980. Since 1990 he has presided over the Concurso Internacional de Piano de Jaén, receiving a gold medal for his work with this organization. He is a member of the Real Academia de Bellas Artes of Tenerife (Canary Islands), Granada and Cádiz, as well as Honorary and Extraordinary Academician of the Conservatory of Santa Cruz of Tenerife. In addition, several music schools have been named after him in his native Spain. In 1994 he was awarded the gold medal of the Island of Tenerife and named ‘Favourite Son of the Lagoon’ and ‘Adoptive son of Garachico’ (Tenerife).
A lbéniz’s ‘6 Mazurkas de salón’, Op. 66 date from 1885. The 25 year-old Albéniz composed them for a brace of his well-to-do girl piano students. Each is inscribed with a florid, worrisome dedication... ‘To my adorable little friend Christa Morphy’ (daughter of Count de Morphy, private secretary of King Alfonso XII and Albéniz’s patron). The No. 5 (MP3 clip above), dedicated to Christa, is the longest and most enigmatic insofar as it is a delicate presto that requires a player capable of rapid, masculine filigree. The last mazurka, No. 6, entitled ‘Maria’, is more Chopinesque.
G onzalez is an enthusiastic exponent of Albéniz’s music and a faithful interpreter of the music’s implications—even the slippery, noncommittal, dionysian, raggedy, perennially leave-taking ones.
T he new recording of Gene Pritsker’s ‘William James’s Varieties of Religious Experience: A Chamber Opera’ is beautiful—musically and dramatically.
