It looks like, after 3 years, the steps to my apartment will finally be finished. My landlord is so close to finishing that I think it will take only 4 more days. I would like to have some sort of an after-dinner party, with plenty of time for socializing, but would culminate in watching Hitchcock's "The 39 Steps." I have never seen it, but it fits in with the occasion as a kind of joke. We could watch something else. Before I send out anything more formal, let me know if this would be problematic. (I come to you first, my faithful blog readers.)
Although it should take only 4 more days, anything from bad weather to inertia could intervene. I will give him a little extra time just to be safe.
My first thought was Saturday evening, October 11, although now I see that that is Homecoming, so I doubt people would be interested. Perhaps, Sunday evening October 12? I don't want to conflict with Jonathan D.'s listening event, but I don't know if he is continuing it anyway. Perhaps Col. Klink could chime in on that one.
If this doesn't work, perhaps we can wait until after Fall Break as I will be doing a workshop in Wisconsin, and then in Michigan for the rest of the week. Sometime in November?
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P.S. And if not this event, then (and perhaps it would be better) at another event I want you alumni "liturgy hounds" to meet Fr. William - an absolutely fascinating treasure trove of information on all sorts of scholarly and gossipy things about the liturgy. I mean discussion AT LENGTH. Being the sensitive 90's male, I would like to "facilitate" this. Also you need to see him and Mickey Krebs together, as I did after my talk Tuesday. They are frightfully naughty together!
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Story of My Birth
Well, since the whole birthday thing is out now, I suppose I can tell what I was told happened when I was born. (Mom, feel free to jump in and correct me if I am wrong on anything or if you wish to add something).
I was born at home - very unusual for the time, and delivered by my father - extremely unusual for the time. This was a time when husbands were not typically even in the delivery room, and it's not that my father was a doctor. He was an artist. I suppose he might have been tempted to sketch the event, but that is another story.
It was near the due date and the labor pains came suddenly and violently. My mom couldn't even move. Fortunately my mother was standing near the bed, so my dad was able to lower her to the bed. [He once said he "pushed her," but I was never quite sure when my dad was joking. (Sorry to be somewhat indiscreet, but) he also used to say that when my mom was pregnant with me, he used to tap rhythms on her stomach and that I would tap them back in utero. He always said this with a perfectly straight face, but it can't be true . . .) Anyway, my grandmother (my mom's mom) was already in the house for some reason. I believe she called the ambulance, but this woman - who had had five children of her own - would not go into the bedroom to be with her daughter. She nervously paced outside in the hallway, leaving the job totally to her son-in-law - who had had no experience, first-hand (obviously) or second-hand, with childbirth.
I guess I was born very quickly because it was before the ambulance came. This is one of the reasons I was called "Kurt" (from "currere," to flow, i.e. quick). Apparently my left shoulder was out of its socket, so my dad just popped it back into place. (That was so typical of my dad. I am sure he even found it mildly amusing.) When the ambulance arrived he had to follow behind in the car. He said that it was only then, when he put his left hand on the steering wheel, that he realized it was asleep. There was no feeling from having supported my mom's lower back during the whole procedure. (Of course the feeling did come back to his hand eventually.)
Apparently the custom then was to keep the mother and child in the hospital for three days. Well, what to do with my older brother Karl who was 1 1/2 at that time? Since there really was no such thing as "paternity leave," and my dad had to get back to work, Karl was left with one of my mom's girlfriends - a married lady with several children of her own. Of course, even with a father's constant presence, a 1 1/2 year old is going to miss his mother.
After I was brought back home with my mother, Karl didn't yet know of my existence. When he came home he gave my mother the cold shoulder for having "deserted him." Apparently he sat on his rocking horse rocking away, ignoring her when she talked to him (I think also ignoring a proferred sucker). Suddenly he heard me cry out from the other room. Jumping off of his rocking horse to investigate this strange sound, he discovered his younger brother with whom he was completely fascinated. All was forgotten and forgiven.
Although apparently the gentle fraternal feelings wore off. From what I remember, for the next ten years - boys being boys - he would wrestle me to the ground 2-3 times a week after dinner and sit on my face. But that, truly, is another story . . .
I was born at home - very unusual for the time, and delivered by my father - extremely unusual for the time. This was a time when husbands were not typically even in the delivery room, and it's not that my father was a doctor. He was an artist. I suppose he might have been tempted to sketch the event, but that is another story.
It was near the due date and the labor pains came suddenly and violently. My mom couldn't even move. Fortunately my mother was standing near the bed, so my dad was able to lower her to the bed. [He once said he "pushed her," but I was never quite sure when my dad was joking. (Sorry to be somewhat indiscreet, but) he also used to say that when my mom was pregnant with me, he used to tap rhythms on her stomach and that I would tap them back in utero. He always said this with a perfectly straight face, but it can't be true . . .) Anyway, my grandmother (my mom's mom) was already in the house for some reason. I believe she called the ambulance, but this woman - who had had five children of her own - would not go into the bedroom to be with her daughter. She nervously paced outside in the hallway, leaving the job totally to her son-in-law - who had had no experience, first-hand (obviously) or second-hand, with childbirth.
I guess I was born very quickly because it was before the ambulance came. This is one of the reasons I was called "Kurt" (from "currere," to flow, i.e. quick). Apparently my left shoulder was out of its socket, so my dad just popped it back into place. (That was so typical of my dad. I am sure he even found it mildly amusing.) When the ambulance arrived he had to follow behind in the car. He said that it was only then, when he put his left hand on the steering wheel, that he realized it was asleep. There was no feeling from having supported my mom's lower back during the whole procedure. (Of course the feeling did come back to his hand eventually.)
Apparently the custom then was to keep the mother and child in the hospital for three days. Well, what to do with my older brother Karl who was 1 1/2 at that time? Since there really was no such thing as "paternity leave," and my dad had to get back to work, Karl was left with one of my mom's girlfriends - a married lady with several children of her own. Of course, even with a father's constant presence, a 1 1/2 year old is going to miss his mother.
After I was brought back home with my mother, Karl didn't yet know of my existence. When he came home he gave my mother the cold shoulder for having "deserted him." Apparently he sat on his rocking horse rocking away, ignoring her when she talked to him (I think also ignoring a proferred sucker). Suddenly he heard me cry out from the other room. Jumping off of his rocking horse to investigate this strange sound, he discovered his younger brother with whom he was completely fascinated. All was forgotten and forgiven.
Although apparently the gentle fraternal feelings wore off. From what I remember, for the next ten years - boys being boys - he would wrestle me to the ground 2-3 times a week after dinner and sit on my face. But that, truly, is another story . . .
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Lecture Today
Today, September 30th at 8 PM in the rotunda of the Christendom Library I will give a lecture/demonstration entitled "Gregorian Chant: the Splendor of Forms." Prepare to be edified.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Lecture Tommorrow and Thank You!
On Tuesday, September 30th at 8 PM in the rotunda of the Christendom Library I will give a lecture/demonstration entitled "Gregorian Chant: the Splendor of Forms." Yes, 'forms' (plural). That will be a big part of the lecture. This is cosponsored by the library and the Beato Fra Angelico Fine Arts Series. Hope you can come.
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Also as part of the Fine Arts Series, there will be a fortepiano recital on Wednesday, Nov. 12 at 8 PM and a Woodwind Quintet Concert on Saturday Nov. 22 at 7 PM.
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P.S. Well, I guess due to the internet nothing is secret. I was given a birthday party with cake by my Palestrina choristers after our rehearsal yesterday and taken out to dinner later in the day. Honestly, I think the last birthday "party" I had was when I was either 11 or 12 years old. I was deeply touched. I want to thank all the people who came and especially those involved in the planning, whom I assume were the "usual suspects" - and who had to do it at the last minute. I don't always show my gratitude very well in person, so I want to make it clear in writing how moved I was. It was a very nice gesture (or series of gestures) and it meant a lot to me.
Many of these people were former students of mine, some are now married, one is a professor, and one is famous enough to . . . well you will find out soon enough. I remember my first year at the college and how angry and frustrated I was at something that was ocurring (can't go into details). I almost literally packed up and left (July/August 2000). After some painful years things finally worked themselves out. Had I not signed my contract and left that Summer of 2000, I would not have met ANY of these wonderful people who are now an important part of my life.
Thank you, all of you, for your friendship!
Friday, September 26, 2008
Uzi - Super Schola Dog
Due to his creator having to work on his Gregorian Chant Presentation - which will be Tuesday, Sept. 30, 8 PM, in the Christendom Library Rotunda - Uzi will be on extended sabbatical. He will come back sometime in October.-----------------
P.S. Although another Uzi episode will probably appear next Friday, Oct. 3 with a VERY special guest. I am sure you ladies will enjoy this one! K.P.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Reminder of Upcoming Lecture
On Tuesday, September 30th at 8 PM in the rotunda of the Christendom Library I will give a lecture/demonstration entitled "Gregorian Chant: the Splendor of Forms." Yes, 'forms' (plural). That will be a big part of the lecture. This is cosponsored by the library and the Beato Fra Angelico Fine Arts Series. Hope you can come.
-------------------
Also as part of the Fine Arts Series, there will be a fortepiano recital on Wednesday, Nov. 12 at 8 PM and a Woodwind Quintet Concert on Saturday Nov. 22 at 7 PM.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
With Hope In Their Eyes . . .
One of the hardest things about hearing choir auditions - and I heard 35 of them this Fall - is to see the hope in the eyes of some of these young people. The vast majority were incoming freshmen. Some of the gals are still very innocent and sweet (a few of the guys, too, for that matter) with a touch of naivete. They clearly have this hope in their eyes . . . but what comes out of their mouths! I had to turn away 20 of them. Not all of them were terrible, but I couldn't take more than 15 new choristers and so had to rank them. Ironically - and I have noticed this over the years - at least half of the ones who say they are taking 'voice lessons' are much worse than the ones who have never had a voice lesson. A few are good, and one or two who take voice lessons are extremely good, but about 50% who have taken a year or more of voice lessons are pretty bad. Are they taking voice lessons because they are bad and trying to get better (but not succeeding), or is it that (I fear) the voice lessons are making them worse?
I know I have to do my job, but being the one who has to kill the hope in such innocent faces just breaks my heart sometimes. However, they survive and so do I.
I know I have to do my job, but being the one who has to kill the hope in such innocent faces just breaks my heart sometimes. However, they survive and so do I.
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