Still alive, but only barely. Posts about exciting things upcoming, but first you should come and hear me and the rest of the Fifth Floor Collective tonight at 8 PM at the Boston Conservatory!
Andrew Paul Jackson, the composer whose Aphorism I I premiered with Angela last May, has started a blog to expound on his own works as well as eventually talk about Nietschze and Shostakovich. I assume that the title is a pithy comment about no one reading said blog, so I aim to correct that. As a bonus, judging from the first post he has also recently gone insane.
A couple days ago I found myself in the women's dressing room backstage at Berklee's Commencement Concert. A compatriot of mine was playing (oboe!) in the shenanigans and promised lights, smoke machines, and Ornette Coleman. Two of these three were satisfied.
Through the usual channels of circumstance I scored tickets to last weekend's Celebrity Series gig at Jordan Hall, being told only that it was a Gershwin something or other. I can't exactly say I'm a musical theater man, but despite not having had the chance to crack Alex Ross's book I'm familiar with its opening vignette.
Actually I'm already here, but what's more Boston than a Dropkick Murphys reference?
Posting should improve, I realize this is primarily because I'm back at a job that places me before a computer for hours at a time.
Things I somehow didn't do in my first year in Boston, and may be inexcusable.
Big ol' drought. That was weird, sorry about that guys.
The Conservatory was on spring break this past week and my parents came up while I had some time off, thusly I did all the touristy nonsense that I have neglected in the six months I've been here. It's been great. I actually have a couple stories that the populace might be interested in, but in the interest of actually posting something I'll only tell one (for now).