All Stravinsky, all the time with the New York Philharmonic

I went to the NY Philharmonic's concert on April 24 with Valery Gergiev and the Mariinsky Theater Chorus performing an all-Stravinsky program.

The first piece, the music from the ballet Jeu de Cartes, depicts a card game.  I didn't have a chance to look at the program notes before the concert started so I just listened to the music.  The opening reminded me of Copland's music and the inner sections of the work just sounded frenetic. It wasn't until intermission when I read the program notes and saw that the piece included a number of dance interludes and that the recurring main theme indicated the number of "deals" of cards in the card game.

The second piece was Symphony of Psalms, a choral setting of three psalms with an unusual orchestration of winds, brass, and lower strings (no violins or violas).  The harmonies in this piece were far more atonal than anything of Stravinsky's that I've heard before.  The choral parts reminded me of Bernstein's "Chichester Psalms" though that might have been more of a mood than a musical reference.  The Mariinsky Theater Chorus gave the Latin text an ethereal feeling that echoed the religious fervor of the words. 

The highlight of the program was the complete score to Stravinsky's ballet The Firebird.  I've played one of the Firebird suites and I've heard various arrangements of the music, but I'd never heard the complete ballet until Saturday evening.  The ballet features much more music that enhances and expands the story of the Prince, the princesses, the Firebird, and Kastchei.  In addition, the full score employs a massive orchestra with extra winds, offstage trumpets, Wagner horns, and a battery of percussion.  I enjoyed listening for the music that was familiar to me and the buildups that sometimes led to parts less familiar.  It's always a treat for me to watch the brass section preparing to play, and when the percussionists stood up I knew something exciting was about to happen.  These are the things I miss when I play in an orchestra and focused on my own music.  There was a massive brass crescendo that I thought would lead into the "Infernal Dance" (one of my favorite parts of the ballet), and in fact the trombones and trumpets played part of the theme of the dance, but then the crescendo led into another scene.  But when the orchestra finally exploded into the "Infernal Dance" and the trombones blasted away, I was grinning.  And the final apotheosis gave me chills.  The audience was on its feet within seconds of the end of the concert and gave Gergiev a well-deserved ovation. 

Gergiev conducted without a baton and often seemed to be cuing the orchestra and controlling the type of sound rather than marking time with his hands.  Where some conductors favor broad, sweeping gestures and flowery movements of the baton, Gergiev kept his expressiveness to a minimum.  He gave cues, wiggling his fingers at the musicians, and kept time in only the grandest parts of the score and focused on individuals throughout the rest of the music.  It was a theatrical kind of conducting rather than musical.  With the energy he drew from the musicians, I thought that Alan Gilbert and the Philharmonic's management had made an excellent choice in selecting Gergiev to direct the Stravinsky festival.  I'm sure his interpretation of The Rite of Spring in a few weeks will be outstanding.

Classical music news: Lincoln Center and Philharmonic extend deal, Avery Fisher renovations still on hold

The NY Times reported on Monday that the New York Philharmonic and Lincoln Center had extended their agreement on Avery Fisher Hall, the orchestra's home.  According to the Times, the extension gives both sides more time to work out renovation plans for the hall.  They had a design in place in 2005 but never started on the work.  This extension pushes back any renovation plans for the hall for another few years while everyone involved haggles over the extent of the work and the cost.  From the article:

Lincoln Center and the Philharmonic have each appointed a subcommittee to address these issues over the next three years. In the meantime, both groups have agreed to proceed with plans for some possible short-term upgrades to Avery Fisher, like repaired elevators and seat upholstery.
“We’re going to make the auditorium as pleasing as we can for artists and for audiences, even as we work through the future of the hall,” Mr. Levy said.

Well, that is welcome news.  Ever since I became a subscriber three years ago I've been waiting for news of Avery Fisher Hall's renovation.  The auditorium is in serious need of an overhaul.  My seats alone are so worn out that I've thought about bringing some of those stadium cushions used for bleacher seats.  I have trouble sitting there for more than two hours for a concert.  I can't imagine how bad it can be for people older and in worse shape than I am.  I love listening to the orchestra in that hall (and I don't have any issues with the acoustics) but I'm ready to see Lincoln Center spend some time and money to update the hall.  Even if it's just minor upgrades, anything would be an improvement over what's in there now.

I wonder where the Philharmonic would play while Avery Fisher is closed.  When I lived in Washington, DC and had season tickets to the National Symphony Orchestra, the Kennedy Center renovated the Concert Hall over the course of about eight months.  The NSO played an abbreviated season in the Concert Hall and played other concerts at other venues in the city, like Constitution Hall.  I don't see the Philharmonic cutting its season short in any way, so they'd have to play elsewhere.  But there aren't many other concert halls in New York that aren't booked years in advance.  The logistics of a move like this, especially a temporary one, must be unimaginably complicated.  I'm having trouble imagining them.

If this is the new iPhone, I'll keep my old one

Gizmodo has a scoop on what appears to be the next iPhone.  Gadget sites have posted blurry screenshots of new toys before.  This isn't a hazy third-hand report of something that may or may not be a real phone.  This is an actual prototype phone someone found in a bar in California.  Gizmodo's writers took the thing apart and confirmed that it has Apple hardware inside and a general Apple hardware feel to the outside.  Apple remotely "killed" the phone before the editors could play with the OS but everything else they were able to do indicated that it's as close as we'll get in April to a new iPhone slated for a June release.  It's as thorough a dissection of a prototype gadget that I've ever seen from a blog.

What makes me happy about this information is that there's not much in their analysis that makes me feel that I'll need to get my hands on a new iPhone this summer.  I'm really happy with the iPhone 3GS I bought last July.  I don't want to be one of those people who has to get the newest phone as soon as it's released every year.  I bought my 3GS with the intention of keeping it for two years.  From what I've seen of the new iPhone, I'll be happy with my old phone and the iPhone OS 4.0 upgrade when it's released later this year.

How I remember Allen Iverson

This evening I watched ESPN's "30 For 30" documentary on Allen Iverson, "No Crossover: The Trial of Allen Iverson" directed by Steve James of Hoop Dreams fame.  The movie is superbly done, focusing on the racial divide in Iverson's hometown of Hampton, VA and the events surrounding Iverson's involvement in a 1993 brawl in a bowling alley that resulted in his spending four months in prison.  Iverson, of course, went to Georgetown University after his release and went on a successful career in the NBA.  But it's his time at Georgetown that I think about when I hear Iverson's name.

I was a freshman at Georgetown when I heard about the brawl and the subsequent trial.  At the time I didn't even know where Hampton, VA, was.  I assumed it was somewhere south of DC (which it is, on a peninsula in the Chesapeake Bay).  I didn't have an opinion of the trial, Iverson's conviction, or his release and pardon by then-Governor Douglas Wilder.  But shortly after Iverson's release we heard that Georgetown coach John Thompson was trying to get Iverson to come to Georgetown.  Even then, I thought that Iverson was just another one of Thompson's reclamation projects.  I don't think anyone I knew cared about his past or worried about how he'd affect the team. 

I didn't realize what kind of talent we had on our team until his first few games as a freshman in 1994.  He was unlike anyone I'd ever seen play basketball.  The way he threw himself into games was unreal.  He could make shots out of nothing.  I only went to one game in person during his time at Georgetown, an ugly, foul-filled game against Boston College, and I don't remember anything specific about Iverson other than his energy and incredible shots.  When the Hoyas played in the 1996 NCAA Tournament, I had high hopes that Iverson would lead us to a championship.  It didn't happen, but he took us for an unforgettable ride.

My only other encounter with Iverson happened a few months later, after Iverson announced that he would leave Georgetown two years early to enter the NBA draft.  My mother was in town for a visit and we were walking from campus to M Street.  As we crossed Prospect Street, a luxury car stopped short about ten feet from us.  I don't remember exactly but I'm fairly certain we had the right of way, though I will admit we might have been jaywalking.  I looked at the driver and it was Allen Iverson.  It was as close as I would ever get to our superstar player.  He and I made eye contact for a second.  As we walked away, I said to my mom, "You know, that was Allen Iverson who nearly ran us over just now."  We thought it was funny.  And no, this isn't the first time I've told this story.  It probably won't be the last, either.

Yes, we really did need a solo album from Slash

I may be a classical music snob, but I've also got a weakness for glam metal from the '80s.  Earlier this week  I heard on Twitter that Slash from Guns 'N Roses had just released a solo album.  I had to get it from Amazon as soon as humanly possible, which was about an hour, or as long as it took me to finish my workout and run home.  (Yes, I check my Twitter stream while I'm at the gym. I have an iPhone and I'm not afraid to use it.)

The album has shades of Slash's recent work with Velvet Revolver mixed with riffs from his Guns 'N Roses days.  The songs are throwbacks to the kind of music GnR used to make but updated and processed for 2010.  By no means do they sound as raw as "Appetite for Destruction;" they're closer in style to "Use Your Illusion," but without Axl Rose's overwrought drama and pathos.  Rather than use one lead singer, Slash showcases 13 different artists, including Fergie, Ian Astbury, Kid Rock, and Iggy Pop.  Some work better than others.  Ozzy Osbourne sounds out of place with Slash's music, but Ian Astbury and Myles Kennedy fit right into his style.  I never thought Fergie would be able to rock out like she does on "Beautiful Dangerous."  And I like Chris Cornell's song "Promise" better than just about everything he did with Audioslave. 

The album doesn't sound so much like a cohesive whole as it does an all-star assortment of songs, but who cares?  I like Slash's style.  I don't think he made this album to impress critics or make new fans.  The man doesn't need the money.  He made an album because he could, and he wrote the music he wanted to write.  And as a fan whose musical tastes haven't evolved far beyond what I liked in 1992, I wholeheartedly approve.

No matter what, the album puts Axl's "Chinese Democracy" to shame. 

Cycling started early this year

With the recent weeks of gorgeous weather, I've been able to get my bike out of the storage room and onto the streets earlier than ever.  In past years the bike hasn't come out until the middle of April.  But I went for my first weekend rides the third weekend in March and my first weekday morning rides this week.  I'm already at 122 miles for the year.  I doubt the weather will cooperate through all of April but I'm off to a good start.  My winter regimen of cardio seems to have kept me in decent shape.  I haven't felt sluggish or slow.  I've decided to tweet my bike mileage all year as I remember to do it.  So follow me on Twitter if you want to know how many miles I rode last weekend or my insights on a variety of subjects not related to cycling.

I'm going to need all this early cycling work if I want to ride well this summer.  My summer vacation will be a cycling tour from Prague to Vienna.  I've always wanted to see both cities and I found several companies that run tours from one to the other.  I'll be in Europe for ten days in July, six of them on a bike exploring the Czech and Austrian countryside.  It's the trip Mozart would have made if he'd had a bike.

I'll see you at Blogs With Balls 3.0

I bought a ticket and booked a flight to Chicago for Blogs With Balls 3.0.  I guess this means I'm a sports blogger now. 

Actually, I have a few reasons for attending.  One, I skipped BwB 1.0 when it was here in New York last summer.  I should have gone but I considered it for weeks before deciding that I'm not enough of a sports blogger to make the cost worthwhile.  Then of course I heard about how much fun the entire event was and I regretted passing on it.  So I'll make up for it this time.

Another reason for going is to see friends that I've made online who write about sports and haven't seen in person in a long time, or in some cases, ever.  And while I don't write exclusively about sports, I think that some of the topics at the conference could apply to the subjects I do write about, like music.

Finally, I don't take enough vacations, so a weekend trip to Chicago for a sports blogging conference is as good an excuse as any to get out of town for a couple of days.

Now I just need a hotel room or someone willing to let me sleep on their couch.

I'm not the next McG yet, but he had to start somewhere too

Last Friday night James played another open mic night for the Brooklyn Guitar School at Hank's Saloon in Brooklyn.  Once again I served as his videographer, roadie, and sole groupie. 

He opened his set with "Academy Fight Song" by Mission From Burma:



Next up was his latest original song from the guitar school's songwriting class, entitled "Don't Ask Me Now:"



Having been subjected to a Big Star playlist on a road trip to DC a few years ago, I knew James would either sing a Big Star song or pay tribute to the late Alex Chilton in some way.  He went with "Alex Chilton" by The Replacements.



As he came off the stage I held onto his guitar for a few moments while he found his case.  Later, when another band, the creatively named "The Jailhouse Cocks," needed a spare cable, James lent them one and asked me to collect it when they were done as he had to leave.  It's all part of the job of being a hanger-on for an up-and-coming singer/songwriter.  It also meant I got to stick around to hear The Jailhouse Cocks as well as Postacockalypse and Satan's Scrotum (though I think their real name was The Professionals, and they were a kick-ass ZZ Top cover band).  It was that kind of night at Hank's.

A night at the opera at BAM

I took some time out from watching basketball and enjoying the fantastic weather in New York this weekend to go to the Brooklyn Academy of Music for Les Arts Florissants' productions of Charpentier's Acteon and Purcell's Dido and Aeneas. It was two operas for the price of one.  How could I say no?

Marc-Antoine Charpentier's one-act opera Acteon opened the program.  Both operas were early Baroque compositions, so the orchestra included a theorbo, a viola da gamba, a violone, and recorders and flutes as well as violins, cellos and a harpsichord.  Music Director William Christie conducted from the harpsichord.  The opera was in French with English supertitles above the stage.  While the production was beautiful to watch and hear, the story seemed too short for even a one-act opera.  It was over before I had a chance to become interested in the action.  It didn't help that the three cups of coffee I'd had earlier in the day started to wear off when I got to the theater, so I nodded off for a few minutes here and there.

Henry Purcell's Dido and Aeneas was a much more compelling story.  The opera was performed in English so the story was a bit easier to follow.  While both stories are tragic, Dido featured some comic relief in the character of the sorceress's elf, who clowned around during one extended chorus.  The sorceress (who had also appeared in Acteon) also shimmied around on stage with what were clearly modern dance moves. Near the end of the opera, Dido chastises Aeneas for choosing to obey what he believes are orders from the gods and leave her.  When he offers to stay, saying he will defy the gods to be with her, she rejects him.  It may have been a story from Virgil's Aeneid, but the way couples fight hasn't changed much in 2000 years.  Throughout both operas, the singers and musicians of the company were spectacular.  In particular, Sonya Yoncheva as Dido was excellent.  Her aria "When I am laid in earth" at the end of the opera was beautiful and chilling. 

The New York Philharmonic with Muti and Repin

I was going to write a review of Wednesday evening's concert by the New York Philharmonic. Then I read the New York Times' review in Thursday's paper. I can't disagree with or add much to anything Allan Kozinn had to say about the performance. My friend Karyn came with me and she's played Beethoven's violin concerto before. She said that the piece is unforgiving in terms of length and technical skill. It's like a Mozart concerto in that it requires precise degrees of intonation and delicacy, but it's so long and monumental that it demands a tremendous amount of stamina from the soloist. Vadim Repin showed that he has the talent to play the work but his intonation wasn't always accurate and the entire concerto sounded under-rehearsed. Though like a good Guitar Hero player who uses “star power” at just the right time to boost his score, Repin won me over with his renditions of Fritz Kreisler's cadenzas in the outer movements.

I've seen Riccardo Muti with the Philharmonic before but it wasn't until Wednesday night that he struck me as looking like a prototypical conductor. He's tall, thin, and has a thick head of gray hair. His gestures are precise and not too syrupy. While leading the orchestra through Franck's Symphony in D minor, he used his baton like a violin bow, shaking it at the strings as they played tremelo notes, or stabbed it at the brass to open the finale. At the end of the concert the audience gave Muti a long ovation, reminding me that he had the opportunity to be the music director here. Even though he declined the job, New York audiences clearly love him and look forward to his guest appearances.

A day at the Big East Tournament

I took the day off work on Tuesday to watch the first round games of the Big East Tournament live at Madison Square Garden.  My friend Amanda suggested that we should go since we're both college basketball fans and neither of us had been to the tournament before.  I did go to the Georgetown-Pitt Big East final game in 2007, but I'd never gone for the early rounds.  Instead of writing recaps of the games, which you can read elsewhere, I'd rather focus on the things I saw that you don't get to see when you watch the tournament on TV.

First of all, the Garden was mostly empty for the 12 PM opening game and the 9 PM late game.  It filled up in the afternoon for St. John's vs. UConn and again in the evening for Seton Hall-Providence, but the teams from the furthest distances (South Florida, DePaul, and Cincinnati) had the least support.  Rutgers played in the last game of the night vs. Cincinnati and by the end of the game only the bands and a few die-hard fans and basketball junkies were left in the arena.  One thing we learned was that tickets for the tournament are only available through the 16 schools in the conference.  That explains why the only tickets we could find online were on StubHub.  And it explains all the empty seats and why we were able to sit in the 200 level for the evening games instead of our proper seats one level higher up.  There were several thousand no-shows for both the day and evening sessions so we were free to take whatever seats we wanted.  But the fans that did show up for the games got into the spirit.  St. John's fans turned out to see their team trounce UConn.  And the Garden really came to life late in the Seton Hall-Providence game when the Friars went on a 29-4 run to turn a blowout into a nail-biter.

Between the first and second games of each session, we saw a little "battle of the bands" action.  The bands from UConn and St. John's and later Cincinnati and Rutgers took turns playing songs while the other band listened.  Sometimes one band played the same song that the opposite band just played, so we heard dueling versions of "Gimme Some Lovin'" or "Hey Baby."  Cincinnati's band played a rousing "Seven Nation Army," and Rutgers threw some dance moves into their version of "Thriller."  As a former band groupie, I was in musical geek heaven.  It was almost a shame we had to watch some basketball.

During halftime of the first three games, the dance teams from each school would come on the floor for a quick dance-off.  That amounted to the entire halftime show.  But for Cincinnati-Rutgers, there were no dance teams.  Instead, the Cincinnati Bearcat clowned around on the court, shooting free throws until a Garden employee asked him to stop.  I should have shouted "let him play!" or at least gotten a few photos, but by the time I noticed his act, the Bearcat had put his ball away.  Then he disappeared for most of the 2nd half and I wondered what had become of him.  Just as I was about to implore my Twitter followers to send out a search party, he reappeared on the court.  Maybe he was just napping.  It was late in the evening.

Speaking of Twitter, we spent the whole day tweeting constantly about the games and as such we had concerns about whether we'd have enough battery power to get through the evening.  Between sessions we left the Garden in search of a bar or restaurant where we could recharge both physically and electronically.  We eschewed the crowds at Stout and the dark, dank Stitch and found ourselves at Houndstooth NYC on 8th Avenue at 37th Street.  The hostess showed us to a table by the window where we found a four-plug wall outlet behind my chair.  We were saved!  And the beer and food weren't bad either.  The next time I'm near the Garden and looking for a restaurant for a pre-game or -concert meal, Houndstooth will be my first stop.

Muse rocks the Garden

I may have covered this before, but I first discovered Muse through Guitar Hero.  "Knights of Cydonia" was one of the final songs on Guitar Hero III, and I'd never heard of the band or the song before.  But when I played it in the game I thought "these guys rock."  I played the song in the game for James at my Super Bowl party in 2008, but he seemed unimpressed at the time.  Three weeks later, he arrived early to cook for my Oscar party and plugged his iPod into the speakers in my kitchen.  He put on some music I didn't recognize, so I asked him what it was.  He said it was Muse's album Black Holes & Revelations, and that "Knights of Cydonia" wasn't even the best song on the album.  I was hooked.  I bought the album the next day and acquired the rest of Muse's back catalog shortly thereafter.  They're a rock band, but with symphonic influences, the occasional turn toward pop music and even some funk now and then.  I'm starting to think they were put here on Earth to cater to all of my musical tastes at once.

Last Saturday I was at Madison Square Garden for a Knicks game.  While there, I saw a "coming attractions" poster and noticed that Muse was coming to the Garden on March 5.  I looked at my watch.  This weekend?!  How did I not know about this?  When I got home I got on Stubhub and looked up ticket prices.  They were steep, but there was no way I was going to miss this show.  On Sunday morning I talked to James, who agreed we had to go, and I got the tickets.

The show was this evening (Friday), and it was everything I could have hoped for and then some.  The stage had three large pillars on it which I assumed was the backdrop for the band on the floor of the stage.  When the lights went down the pillars lit up and became the backdrop for video projections that were reminiscent of Pink Floyd and Rush concerts of years past.  Then the pillars parted vertically to show the members of the band, one on each pillar.  They opened with "Uprising," the hit from their most recent album, The Resistance.  The second song was the title track from the album, and while I was enjoying the show, the songs sounded a little too much like the album versions.  As the second song ended, the pillars lowered the band to the floor of the stage and they launched into "New Born."  And that's where they really started to rock my face off. 

The next two hours were filled with all of the songs I could have wanted to hear and maybe a few I hadn't expected.  (Here's the full set list.)  The crowd had a few too many teenagers and kids in their twenties for my liking, and that made me feel just a bit old.  But I didn't care.  Matthew Bellamy, the lead singer and guitarist, twirled, jumped, and danced around the stage while singing and abusing his guitar.  Bassist Christoper Wolstenholme was a rock, a la John Entwistle, remaining stationary at his microphone and providing the foundation for the band.  Drummer Dominic Howard had the middle pillar to himself and with his drums on a rotating platform he could face the back of the stage and entertain the fans in the obstructed view seats.  While the band played, the video projections alternated between trippy visuals of political protests, buildings collapsing, nature scenes, and of course the band members themselves as they jammed onstage.  The show was well worth the exorbitant price I paid Stubhub for the privilege.  I'd go see it again if I had the chance.

One other note: Muse is the first band I've seen live in their prime since 1992.  My first rock concert ever was Metallica and Guns N' Roses in 1992 at Three Rivers Stadium, and even then GNR was a little overblown.  Since then, it's been a steady stream of "geezer rock," including Bob Dylan, Aerosmith, Pink Floyd, Van Halen, The Who, and even The Rolling Stones in 1997.  I hadn't seen a "modern" rock band in almost twenty years until Friday night.  As my old rock bands are now leaving the stage, I suppose I'll have to find more new acts to see live if I want to remain relevant.  Or I could just keep going to the Philharmonic, where long-dead composers still rule.

This is the year I follow baseball

I've been getting exasperated at all the baseball talk on Twitter this week.  It's just spring training, for God's sake! The games don't count!  Yesterday I threatened to live-tweet the Steelers' arrivals at training camp and the tackling dummy drills in July as payback.

Then I reconsidered.  Many, many of my friends are huge baseball fans.  And I am not.  Why should I be annoyed?  They're just excited that their favorite sport is back, even if they're playing meaningless games.  Live and let live.

Then a Twitter conversation earlier today about the viability of the Pittsburgh Pirates 2010 roster and their chances for improvement made me think about my own lack of devotion to my hometown team and baseball in general.  I realized that I couldn't explain myself in 140 characters. 

I didn't grow up as a baseball fan.  Johnstown, PA is well within Steeler country and so I became a Steelers fan at an early age.  My parents watched or listened to the Steelers games every Sunday.  I can count on one hand the number of times my dad and I threw a ball in the yard, and most of the time when we did it was a football.  I idolized Terry Bradshaw, Franco Harris, and Lynn Swann.  As for baseball, I knew who Willie Stargell was (I even shook his hand once) but I barely knew that the Pirates existed.  I never played Little League.  I never wanted to play and my parents didn't see any need to push me.  Baseball just wasn't on my childhood radar.

In middle school I used to get free tickets to Pirates games from my school in exchange for earning good grades.  (I was a massive geek then, just as I am now.)  My mother would drive us to Pittsburgh on Friday nights after work and with Pittsburgh's notoriously bad traffic we'd usually get to the stadium sometime in the 3rd inning.  Our seats were always in the 600 level, seemingly miles away from the field.  I had only the faintest idea who the players were or how baseball games worked.  Since this was the mid-'80s, the Pirates were rebuilding.  Barry Bonds, Bobby Bonilla, Mike LaValliere, and Andy Van Slyke were all playing for the team, but they weren't stars yet.  We saw a lot of crappy Pirates losses.  By the 7th inning the game was already out of hand, my brother and I would be making fun of the morbidly obese peanut vendor in our section and my mother would be ready to leave.  I don't think I saw an entire game from start to finish until 7th or 8th grade. 

By the time I graduated from high school and went to Georgetown in the fall of 1992, the Pirates had become a contender in the NL East and had made two trips to the NLCS.  All of Pittsburgh knew that the the 1992 Pirates were our last chance for a World Series appearance for a long time.  My freshman year roommate was a guy from Atlanta named Mark.  We didn't get along, and the 1992 NLCS between the Braves and the Pirates didn't help our relationship.  Everyone on the 1st floor of Darnall Hall watched Game 7 of the NLCS in the lounge.  When the Braves' Francisco Cabrera got the game-winning hit and Sid Bream scored, everyone in the room cheered for the Braves.  I was alone in my suffering as I watched the Pirates react, unable to believe what had just happened.  To add insult to injury, Mark led a victory parade up and down the hall.  The Pirates broke my heart that night.

Since 1992, the Pirates have given me few reasons to hope for another appearance in the NLCS.  There have been five-year-plans that have lasted for eight.  There have been bad trades and terrible free agent signings.  Ownership has failed to show anything resembling a commitment to putting a winning team on the field.  The Pirates moved into a gorgeous new stadium in 2001, among the best in baseball, yet the product on the field has been mediocre and sometimes atrocious.  I've had no incentive to follow the team.  I even bought a Mets cap a few years ago when they were hot and I went to a few games at Shea.  I considered giving up on the Pirates and going all-in for the Mets.

But I refuse to abandon my hometown team.  I can't deny being a Pirates fan any more than I could deny that I love Mahler's symphonies.  And now that I have baseball writers, bloggers, and fans among my friends, I don't want to be left out of the sports conversation all summer.  So this season I'm going to make a real commitment to following baseball.  I can't promise that I'll love it the way so many of my friends do.  But I'll try to watch games with more than just a casual interest.  I'll keep track of how the Pirates are doing, even if they swoon in the middle of the summer.  And when I go to Pittsburgh in August for a game, I'll know who the players are, how well they're hitting, and what the pitchers' records are.  This much I will do.

OK, baseball: are we cool?  As for the Pirates: don't disappoint me again.  I'm not asking for a World Series ring.  I'll take a .500 season.

What's with all the Knicks photos?

I've been to two New York Knicks games in the past five days.  Before this week I hadn't been to a Knicks game since 2007 and had little interest in the team since they are usually cover-your-eyes terrible.  But a combination of a tweetup on Saturday evening and complimentary tickets for last night's game got me to the Garden twice in a week.  Saturday's game included a halftime show featuring members of the Sugar Hill Gang as part of "Old School Night."  And last night I got to meet Earl "The Pearl" Monroe before the game and get his autograph.  Unfortunately, my knowledge of the Knicks before 1993 is spotty, so I had to re-read Bill Simmons' chapter on Monroe before the game and watch some of his highlights on YouTube so I'd know a few things about him.  Important note: Monroe attended Winston-Salem State University, not Syracuse.

Also, I now own two Knicks t-shirts courtesy of giveaways for the events before each game, which is two more Knicks-related items of clothing than I had before Saturday.  If the Knicks ever become a good team again, I will be able to declare my casual interest proudly and at no cost whatsoever. 

Congratulations Canada, and thoughts on a great hockey tournament

I had a bad feeling about today's gold medal game from the start.  I knew Team USA couldn't surprise Canada the way they did last week, and I didn't expect a total collapse like we saw from Finland in the semifinal game on Friday.  Canada played some incredible hockey in their quarterfinal against Russia and survived a late threat from Slovakia to get to the championship.  They were on a mission.  From the start, Canada knocked us off their game.  Their defense reminded me of the Detroit Red Wings against the Penguins last year (and the year before).  We couldn't get clear shots.  We couldn't control the puck.  Dump-and-chase wasn't working.  But a goal in the 2nd period gave Team USA some life, and we looked better in the 3rd.  When we tied the game I was incoherent for a good five minutes.  And things started out well in the extra period.  But overtime games are often won on quirky goals from defensive mistakes, and this game was no different.  Sidney Crosby, captain of the Pittsburgh Penguins, scored the game-winner for Canada and set off a riotous celebration in the arena.  The crowd's rendition of "O Canada" was as rousing as I've ever heard it.  The members of Team USA looked as if someone had shot their dogs. 

But no one on our team should be upset for too long.  I'm disappointed Team USA couldn't pull off the upset.  And make no mistake: throughout this tournament and in this game, we were the underdogs.  Today, in front of a raucous home crowd, facing a superior team, it's a small miracle we stayed in the game at all.  Canada's 2-0 lead could easily have become a rout.  Canada played an excellent game and deserves all the credit for winning the gold.  But before the Olympics few hockey experts thought Team USA had a chance to go this far, let alone come within a OT goal of winning it all.  Ryan Miller played out of his mind for two weeks and for that alone he shouldn't ever have to pay for a beer again.  (H/T Amanda Rykoff)  We played our hearts out today.  And with some luck, we'll get them back in 2014.

In the immediate future, I hope this tournament will be a boost for hockey and the NHL here.  For the past two weeks we've seen some incredible games from the best players in the world.  We have the best professional hockey league in the world right here in North America.  The teams play for the greatest trophy in sports.  Casual hockey fans who got into the game over the past two weeks owe it to themselves to check out a NHL game on TV, if not in person.  The biggest problem, of course, is the TV exposure.  So many of the NHL's games are buried on Versus.  I watch as many Penguins games as I can on Versus, and I have no idea where that channel is on my cable box.  I have to look for it each time I tune in.  If the NHL's games are too difficult to find, people will move on to March Madness and baseball and hockey will continue to languish.  But there is no postseason better than the NHL playoffs.  It's two months of games just like what we've seen in Vancouver.  I'd love to see more people become fans of the game, and now is the perfect time.

In the not-so-immediate future, the NHL has to commit to sending its players to Sochi, Russia, for 2014.  They're going to face a revolt from the players' union if they don't.  Many of the Russian players plan to go home and play for their national team even if it means violating their NHL contracts.  And I'd be shocked if Sidney Crosby, Eric Staal, and Roberto Luongo didn't want to defend their gold medals in four years.  The PR hit would be devastating for a league that is still trying to recover from the 2004 lockout.  The NHL is in enough trouble.  And this tournament was so much fun to watch.  Send the players to Russia.  It's the right thing to do.

Congratulations again, Canada.  You were the best team today and you earned a great victory.  Enjoy those gold medals.  We'll see you in Russia.

One thousand posts and counting

My post last Sunday about the first USA-Canada Olympic hockey game appears to have been my 1000th blog post, according to Blogger's dashboard counter.  I'm not surprised I reached 1000 posts, but I am a little troubled that it took me eight years.  In my defense, I have a job and a semblance of a social life, and often not much to say that I can't put in a tweet (now at 3008 and counting!).

I have been thinking lately about switching from Blogger to Wordpress, though I'm not quite ready to risk losing all 1000 posts in a migration.  But I'm tired of looking at this theme, and there aren't many better choices available through Blogger.  Perhaps the time has come to spend real money on this blog?  I'm not about to give it up; that much is certain.  The blogging will continue until the writing quality improves.

A better way to cover the Olympics

Many sports bloggers and friends have taken up the cause of "NBC FAIL" this past week as it pertains to the Winter Olympics.  (The greater cause of "NBC FAIL" as it pertains to the rest of the network is a subject for another time.)  NBC has run nearly all of its events tape delayed in prime time, diced up with commercial breaks and fluff pieces, and then held the entire package an additional three hours for the Pacific and Mountain time zones.  Let's not forget that the Olympic Games are being held in the Pacific time zone.  It doesn't matter to the network.  By the time the Games air at 8 PM on the East Coast, anyone with an Internet connection or even cable TV can and likely does know the results of the events they're about to watch on the NBC broadcast channel.  And if you're in LA or Seattle, you've known the results for almost an entire day.  The network has run hockey and curling live on CNBC and MSNBC and on nbcolympics.com all week long, and as a hockey fan I applaud this decision.  But the fact remains that NBC's coverage of these Games (and the Games in years past) is built on a model that assumes the average viewer turns on the TV when they get home and leaves it on the same channel all night long.  They pick and choose what to show in prime time based on advertising revenue targets for the audience they want to reach.  But people don't watch TV like that any more.

Network coverage of the Olympics has to change.  As people in my generation get older and have more buying power, we're going to demand that the network cater to what we want and not accept the bite-sized chunks that get laid out for us.  Some of us want to see the entire mens' downhill ski event, not just a few skiers and the winners.  Some people want to see all the figure skating they can have and then some.  And there are people who like cross-country, biathlon, speed skating, and other events that would love to see those events in their entirety, but they have to take what NBC gives them.  We know that NBC has cameras at all of these events.  And we know that the network can put events online all day long and they will find an audience.  Why not go the whole way?

What I imagine is a hybrid of what CBS does with the NCAA tournament and what Versus does with the Tour de France.  First, show all the events live, no matter what the time of day.  Even if the Olympics are being held 12 time zones away, people will watch them live.  Use all the networks (CNBC and MSNBC in NBC's case) and show as many events live as possible.  The Olympics only come around once every four years for sixteen days.  If NBC is going to lose money on the Games, why not go all in and preempt Rachel Maddow and Keith Olbermann for two weeks?  And show the Games online and elsewhere with the same ads that will run when the events are shown in prime time later that night.  While the events are running online, run a crawl or an ad every few minutes that tells the online viewer when the same event will be on in prime time that night. People who watch during the day while they're at work might want to see the same event in glorious HD later that evening.  Or they might call their parents/grandparents/friends who can't watch online and tell them "you have to see this downhill race later tonight. It's on at 9:30 PM."

Which leads me to the second part of my suggestion (the Versus part).  Keep the tape-delayed pre-packaged prime time coverage model that has worked for thirty years.  While there is a large audience of geeks and bored workers who will watch events online, there are many, many other viewers who will still want to tune in at 8 PM and watch all evening long.  So cater to them as well.  Even though the events have already aired on other networks and online, people like the fluff segments and the studio interviews.  It works for Versus.  They run the Tour de France live in the morning straight up, with play-by-play and instant commentary.  And they advertise during the broadcast for viewers to tune in at 8 PM for expanded coverage of the same stage.  Then they repeat the broadcast at 8 PM, but with more interviews, more studio analysis, and more pre-taped segments.  It's almost exactly the prime-time Olympics model.  And people will tune in.

What's it going to take to make these changes?  We'll need a young sports division head who knows the online viewing habits of 18-34 year-olds.  They'll be the ones calling their parents and telling them to watch the Games that night.  And this sports division head will need to do their homework and be ready to stand up to network executives and show them that there's a better way to cover these Games.  And we'll need a network president that understands that old models don't work any longer. 

The networks have to change to fit the times.  They can't force us to watch their outdated prime-time package and only that.  We want sports when we want them, and we'll find ways to get the sports elsewhere if we have to.  Why make us go to those lengths?  Give us what we want, and we'll sing your praises to anyone who will listen.

If that was a preliminary game I can't wait for the medal round

I was as excited about Team USA vs. Team Canada as I was for game 7 of the Stanley Cup Final last year.  Well, maybe not quite as much, but it was close.  I've enjoyed every game of this tournament so far, even the blowouts, and I couldn't wait to see how Canada's superstar lineup fared against the USA's young squad.  The game didn't disappoint.  There were beautiful goals, frenetic breakaways and an absolutely clutch performance by Team USA's goalie, Ryan Miller.  With the win, Team USA earned a bye into the quarterfinals and will play again on Wednesday afternoon.  Canada has to face Germany on Tuesday afternoon for a quarterfinals slot of their own.

I watched most of the game in the same position I'd had for game 7 last year: on the edge of the couch, leaning over the laptop on the coffee table and screaming "get it out of there!" every time the puck entered the USA end.  I nearly forgot to breathe a couple of times.  It might not have been for a medal, but anyone watching that game would agree that the intensity on both teams was at championship levels.  And the crowd!  They hurled chants and insults at Miller and cheered their hearts out for the home team.  If you saw that game and didn't come away thinking that hockey could be fun to watch again, I don't want to know you.

I may have watched the game by myself, but I wasn't alone.  I tweeted throughout the game and kept a close eye on my Twitter feed for my friends' reactions.  I've been watching games this way for several years.  Before Twitter, it was the Deadspin commenter community.  But the forum doesn't matter.  I can share the experience of an event like an Olympic hockey game with hundreds of other people from the comfort of my couch and not feel at all isolated or lonely.  The online community can't replace the fun of watching a game with your friends in the same room or actually going to the game.  But it's a viable alternative when you can't be there in person.   

Friday, February 19 in Olympic hockey

Sweden looked good against Belarus in the afternoon game.  Belarus goalie Andrei Mezin kept his team in the game late into the 3rd period.  The Swedes took an early 3-0 lead, then Belarus fought back with goals in the 2nd and 3rd periods to keep the game close.  Sweden needed a late goal from Daniel Alfredsson to seal the victory.  Sweden faces Finland on Sunday in one of three "Rivalry Sunday" matchups.

The Czech Republic had a 4-0 lead on Latvia in the 2nd period when Latvia scored two quick goals to cut the deficit in half.  Up until that point I had declared Latvia the "punching bag of Group B" but I had to revise my statement to "the punching bag is hitting back!"  I'm not sure the metaphor holds up.  The Czechs held on to win the game 5-2.

The late game pitted Finland against Germany, and it wasn't much of a match.  Finland won 5-0.  I'd say they're ready for Sweden on Sunday.
 

Thursday, February 18 in Olympic mens' hockey

Team USA looked great against Norway, but Norway isn't that good this time around.  Still, a win is a win, and if you're going to succeed in this tournament you have to win the games you know you can win.  We'll call this game a confidence builder for Team USA and hope that it helps them to bigger wins in the medal round, or better play against Canada on Sunday.  More on that below.

Canada and Switzerland went to a shootout to settle their game Thursday night.  I was at rehearsal and then at the bar so I didn't get to see any of the game until I got home, but the Swiss put up a fight against a superior-on-paper Canadian team.  It took a  sudden-death shootout goal from Sidney Crosby and a monster save from Martin Brodeur to seal the victory for Canada.  I still like Canada's chances at the gold, but a game like this one shows that there are no guarantees.

For more evidence that there are no guarantees in this tournament, look no further than last night's late game, Slovakia vs. Russia.  Slovakia had to play 24 hours after losing to the Czech Republic and faced a dominating Russian squad coming off a lopsided win over Latvia two days ago.  I switched over to CNBC-HD for the start of the game only to find that the channel was horribly pixelated.  It was nearly impossible for me to tell what was going on for much of the game.  Russia took a 1-0 lead in the 2nd period on a goal from Alexei Morozov and survived a 2-man advantage power play by Slovakia to start the 3rd.  But Slovakia stayed with the Russians and despite the terrible picture I didn't see the kind of passing and puck-handling from Russia that I saw on Tuesday.  Late in the 3rd period Marian Hossa put a shot past goalie Ilya Bryzgalov to even the game at 1-1.  A five-minute overtime period settled nothing, so for the second time in a day the fans got to see a shootout.  Alex Ovechkin went 1-for-3 as the shootout went into sudden death and it took a sweet, patient goal from Slovakia's Pavol Demitra to win the game.

Slovakia surprised Team Russia, and Canada survived a scare against Switzerland.  On today's show, On The DL Podcast's Dan Levy wondered if the teams with fewer NHL players have had more time to practice and get to know each other.  The loaded NHL all-star squads from the USA, Canada, and Russia have played well but they've only had a few days working as a team, since the NHL had games scheduled through last Sunday.  I agree with Dan: the big teams are going to play better as the tournament goes on, but the performances by Slovakia and Switzerland show that the medal round seedings aren't set in stone.

One correction: I didn't know until last night that all 12 teams in the tournament will make the medal round.  However, the top four teams from the round-robin receive byes into the quarterfinals and have one less game to play.  The other eight teams have to play elimination games to make the quarterfinals.  With a scant two weeks to play all the games, having that bye could be crucial to getting through to the gold-medal game.  Given the stakes and the goal differential right now, Sunday's USA (+7)-Canada(+9) game looms even larger than it did before the Olympics started.  Time Warner Brooklyn had better fix CNBC-HD before Sunday or there will be angry tweets coming from my apartment.

Wednesday in Olympic hockey

Today's games have already started, with Team USA in control early with a 2-0 lead over Norway at the 1st intermission.  I had plans last night so I only saw Finland's victory over Belarus and the end of the Czech Republic-Slovakia game this morning on my DVR.  Finland showed some of the dominance we've seen from them in past Olympics.  But what I really enjoyed was seeing Jaromir Jagr back on the ice for the Czech team.  He's 38, a fact of which the announcers continually reminded the viewers.  And Jagr didn't skate as many minutes as he did on past Olympic teams, at least not at the end of the game where the Czechs were playing keep-away with Slovakia.  But he scored the game-winning goal and assisted on another.  He has a reach like no one else I've seen, carrying the puck far out in front yet keeping it in control the entire time.  Watching him handle the puck while sweeping around behind the goal brought back memories of his years with the Penguins.  He can still do astounding tricks with the puck.  The Czechs are in a tough group with the Russians, but with a win in hand over Slovakia and a likely win against Latvia they stand a good chance to make the medal round if Jagr can continue to produce like he did last night.

It's the most wonderful time... of the quadrennial

The Winter Olympics are on and that means Olympic hockey.  I love that the NHL shuts down its season for three weeks to allow its players to compete for their national teams in the Olympic hockey tournament.  In 1998 I stayed up all night watching the games from Japan.  Four years ago I recorded as much of the tournament as my DVR would allow and watched hours of hockey each night.  This time, the games are on during the afternoon and evening, threatening my productivity at work and my sleep schedule.  Somehow I'll muddle through. 

Yesterday's action featured Team USA's 3-1 win over Switzerland, in which our team looked good but not dominant.  Canada crushed Norway 8-0, and in the late game Russia rolled over Latvia 8-2 as if it was still the Cold War.  I went to bed last night with the score 4-0 at the end of the second period and watched the rest of the game this morning.  I needn't have bothered.  The Russian team looks especially strong.  Alex Ovechkin is already nearly impossible to stop, and with crisp passing and fluid movement the team has an old Red Army feeling to it.  Vladimir Tretiak, Team Russia's manager, watched the game from a skybox wearing an old-school dark blazer with a red collar.  It was like Darth Vader observing stormtroopers on parade.  I'd like to see Team USA play well in this tournament, but I can't help wishing for a Canada-Russia gold medal game.  How exciting would that be?  Team Canada trying to win on home ice vs. possibly the greatest Russian team in 20 years?  I'm getting chills.  But it's a long way off.  We're only one day in and some of the teams haven't taken the ice yet.  There's plenty of great hockey ahead.

The Pittsburgh Symphony comes to New York

Tuesday evening was "NYRO Goes to Carnegie Hall" as a small group of us ventured north of our usual Times Square neighborhood to the city's most famous concert venue for a performance by the Pittsburgh Symphony and Anne-Sophie Mutter.  I hadn't seen the Pittsburgh Symphony in about eight years so it was a treat for me to have my "hometown" orchestra here in my adopted hometown.  And I was glad to see familiar faces like Andres Cardenes (concertmaster), Anne Martindale Williams (principal cellist) and Randolph Kelly (principal violist) in the orchestra.  For a few moments the experience took me back to my childhood, when my mother took me and my brother to concerts at Heinz Hall and I would be fascinated by everything: the musicians, the conductor, the program, and the sheer size of the hall.  Carnegie Hall is no less impressive, though I forgot how steep the upper balcony is.

The first work on the program was Johannes Brahms' dazzling Violin Concerto, with Anne-Sophie Mutter as soloist.  I've been a fan of Ms. Mutter's work for many years.  I could listen to her play all day long.  She attacked the double-stops with a vengeance and handled the lighter melodic sections delicately and with ease.  I thought the orchestra balanced well against the solo violin, as music director Manfred Honeck kept his players in check and allowed Ms. Mutter's virtuosity to show.  The third movement was especially spirited, and Honeck practically danced on the podium.

After intermission the concert resumed with Gustav Mahler's Symphony No. 1.  Frequent readers know that I love Mahler almost above all other composers, and that his Symphony No. 1 is one of my all-time favorite works.  As fond as I am of the Pittsburgh Symphony, I couldn't help but measure their performance of the symphony against my favorite: Alan Gilbert's performance with the New York Philharmonic last May.  At first I was slightly disappointed as some of the strings seemed unable to find the right harmonic for the ethereal opening of the piece.  Honeck took some liberties with the tempos, which my friends found excessive but I didn't mind as much.  It was a crisp performance but not as energetic as I would have liked.  I didn't think the musicians or the audience got into the music until the climax of the first movement, which gave me chills despite my earlier misgivings.  As the concert went on the orchestra improved.  The brass, especially the horns, were outstanding.  But the brass and winds also overpowered the strings in a few places, upsetting the delicate balance Mahler indicates in his score.  The finale was appropriately bombastic and I couldn't help grinning when the horns stood up near the end (always my favorite part of any performance).  The audience erupted with applause and Honeck and the orchestra took several curtain calls.  They played Josef Strauss' "Die Libelle": Polka Mazur, Op. 204 for an encore.  At the time we couldn't hear Honeck when he announced the name of the piece so we had to play "name that tune" until my friend Susanna tipped me to the title this afternoon.

Based on last night's concert I think the Pittsburgh Symphony is in good hands with Honeck at the helm.  I'll have to try to hear them again the next time I'm in Pittsburgh.  I love the New York Philharmonic but I'll always have affection for the group that defined orchestral music for my childhood.

I am a not a brand, I am a man!

But I'm also a brand, or at least my name is.

I've spent the better part of a year becoming more active on Twitter.  When I first joined it seemed logical to use @catelinp as my username since it's the same as my e-mail address.  CATELINP was the first login name I had at Georgetown when I first gained Internet access on the GUVAX system (wow, that takes me back).  It's stuck with me ever since.  But in 2010 it's archaic and it doesn't say anything about who I am.  So late last night I switched Twitter account names and I am now @PhilCatelinet.  I've still got the same avatar and you'll still get the same witty commentary you've always enjoyed but now with a proper name.

Don't panic: your last-minute Super Bowl recipes are here!

I've tweeted about this series all week, but if you don't follow me elsewhere you might have missed it. My friend Sarah is working on 14 Days of Super Bowl recipes on her blog Black and Gold Tchotchkes. She's also written a series of football recipes on Ladies..., several of which I've tried and thoroughly enjoyed.  Pizza Dip, Buffalo Chicken Dip, and Pizza Loaf are among my favorites and are popular with my friends.  I'd love to make one of her latest creations for the Super Bowl party this weekend.  But I've already committed to muffalettas and I don't think we have enough people coming to justify making something like chicharrones de pollo, tasty as it looks.  But f you're still wondering what to make for your own Super Bowl party this weekend, look no further.  You're in good hands with Sarah.

My first attempt at shooting a music video

James has recently taken up the guitar again.  He's also writing his own songs.  He's become a regular at a few open mic nights in Brooklyn.  As a friend and music lover, I've tried to go to all of his shows.  James played at the Brooklyn Guitar School's showcase on Friday evening and I brought along my point-and-shoot camera and recorded his set.  I also had to hold his guitar at one point, which I believe makes me a roadie.

He opened with The Gaslight Anthem's "Great Expectations."



Next up was his original song, "Children's Crusade." That's me providing the commentary/heckling.



He closed his set with The Killers' "When You Were Young." There's a glitch near the end when my camera stopped recording and I had to restart.  Thanks to the wonders of iWeb I stitched it together.  Now I know that 7 1/2 minutes is my camera's limit for continuous video.

Saturday afternoon at the rock show

If you ride the NYC subway, you've probably seen the ads for the "Who Shot Rock & Roll" exhibit at the Brooklyn Museum.  It's a collection of photographs of rock musicians from 1955 to the present day.  I live about 15 minutes from the Brooklyn Museum, and the show has been running since October, but it took me until this afternoon to go see it.

I got to the museum around 3 PM to find a huge line snaking through the lobby.  The line moved quickly and I was on my way up to the fifth floor and the exhibit by 3:20.  That's where I ran into the second line for the show itself.  So it's a popular destination right now.  Also, it closes next weekend, so I'm sure the urgency brought out a larger crowd.

The exhibit is arranged by topic: performers before they were famous, private moments, concert photographs, album covers, and videos, to name a few.  Some of my favorite photos were of Jimmy Page with the Yardbirds in 1966, with short hair and a waist-length double-breasted jacket.  Compare that photo to the one around the corner of Page in 1975 on stage with Led Zeppelin, with long flowing hair and his shirt open to the waist.  There's a great photo of Johnny Cash at San Quentin prison, responding to the photographer's request to "take one for the warden!"  I really enjoyed the pictures of the Beatles and Rolling Stones before they were famous, lounging at pubs and backstage.  You can see Jimi Hendrix playing with Wilson Pickett in 1966, then with his own band a year later.  I won't spoil the contrast here but it's striking, almost jarring.  In between the two halls of the exhibit, there's a 15-minute slide show of other rock musicians from the 1960s and 1970s.  There's a photo index on the wall, but if you're of a certain generation it might be more fun to play "name that person."  I can tell you that David Crosby was never a good-looking man. 

There's also a Grace Jones video playing in one of the rooms.  Seeing Grace Jones always reminds me of her turn as a Bond girl in A View To A Kill in 1985.  I have the image of her in bed with an aging Roger Moore burned into my brain.  That movie should have come with a warning.  No twelve-year-old boy needs to see that.

The show runs through next weekend and is absolutely worth the shlep out to Brooklyn.  I didn't have to shlep, but those of you who live in Manhattan should make the trip.  Be prepared for crowds, and for tourists who don't know who Patti Smith or the Sex Pistols are.

Adventures in cooking (a continuing series)

During the NFL playoffs, I like to link my cooking to whoever's playing that day.  Since the first game was Arizona at New Orleans, I went with chicken machaca and Mexican red rice from The Border Cookbook. 

I went shopping earlier in the day and thought I had all of the ingredients, but the rice recipe called for a mild New Mexican chile powder that I forgot to buy.  It called for a tablespoon of the chile powder so I substituted about 3/4 of a tablespoon of cayenne pepper instead.  While the resulting rice was edible, I think it was a little spicier than the editors intended.  And it made for an eye-watering meal when paired with the chicken dish.

There are some nights I'm glad I only have to cook for myself.

The website project is live

I've been working on a new website project for the past several months.  It's a site about my grandfather, Philip Bramwell Catelinet, and his music and career.  It's a work in progress.  My grandfather's music, papers, letters, and other works are scattered between my father in Maryland and my aunt in Georgia.  I spent part of my holiday vacation in Bowie going through photographs, cataloging old recordings, and reading some of his articles.  Some of the fruits of those labors are available on the site now, and others will be as they become available to me in electronic form.

Please take a look at the site and let me know what you think.  If you have information you would like to add to the site or corrections to anything that's up there now, please let me know.

Take a hike, 2009

It has been my custom to write a "wrap up" post at the end of the year, usually while I'm bored at work on New Year's Eve. I was actually a little busy today, so this post is going up late.

2009 started out well enough and had its high points. The Steelers won the Super Bowl and the Penguins won the Stanley Cup, which would be enough to make any year stand out. I also went on a couple of great vacations, in New Orleans and on Block Island. I played some of my favorite works with NYRO and heard the New York Philharmonic play some as well, perhaps too often. I helped organize and run another successful NYRO benefit gala and I've learned some lessons that will make 2010's gala even better. But then there were the sour moments that are foremost in my mind as the year comes to a close. I'm not as happy as I was when the year started. That's something I need to work on in 2010.

Ten years ago I was married and stuck in a crappy job in a new city that I hated. Now I'm divorced and in a much better job in that same city that I have grown to love in ways I never expected. I have regrets about some things from the past decade but I wouldn't change many of them. I've loved and lost. I've had highs that were unforgettable and lows that I never want to know again. I traveled Europe and Asia in this past decade. I've become that cantankerous old guy at my job (not so old yet) who knows where all the bodies are buried. I've made some incredible friends. I picked up the viola again after too long a break, and I swear to God I'm not putting it down again until my fingers stop working.

That's it for me. I'm off to drink bourbon and forget about the past for a while. See you on the flip side.

I spent my Christmas weekend in Bowie, MD, this year, visiting my father and stepmother instead of my usual Johnstown holiday vacation. After four years of Johnstown at the holidays, I was ready for a change.

I got caught in the mess at Penn Station on my way out last Wednesday. My scheduled train had a mechanical problem which eventually forced Amtrak to cancel the train. They'd already told the big-city passengers to move to the Acela on the next track, so they sent the rest of us headed for small towns (like New Carrollton, MD, the closest stop to my dad's house) back to the concourse to catch the next train. We boarded another train scheduled to leave at 9:41 AM, but it was sitting on the tracks with no power. None of the tracks had power. We sat on this train for about 45 minutes before the conductor told us all to get off the train and take the PATH commuter trains to Newark, where we could get on southbound trains. So we all trudged over to 6th Avenue and crammed ourselves onto a PATH train. At Newark no one from Amtrak had any idea what was going on. Some of us discussed the idea of renting a car. Shortly after noon we heard that power had returned at Penn Station and that trains were moving again. Around 12:45 my train pulled into Newark and many of us crowded onto it. Somehow I got a seat. After five hours, I was on my way. I got to DC just in time to meet some friends for dinner at Clyde's near the Verizon Center.

The rest of the trip was far less exciting. I spent several hours going over music, recordings, and photos of my grandfather and family for a website project that is scheduled to launch early next year (or whenever I get around to launching it). My mother drove down the day after Christmas for a visit. I got to watch the Steelers edge the Ravens and keep their slim playoff hopes alive. And most importantly, I was able to spend some time with my father, who I never seem to see often enough.

I returned to New York on Monday afternoon, somewhat revitalized. Vacations help but returning home always seems to bring out the same old stressors. Still, it's good to be back and I'm looking forward to a better 2010. This year didn't turn out quite how I'd planned. Next year will definitely be an improvement.

Duke Nukem Never

Wired has the inside story on how 3DRealms' long-promised Duke Nukem Forever never came out. I knew some of the details on the game's many delays, like the various engine changes. But I didn't know about creator George Broussard's obsession with including the latest and greatest visual effects in his masterpiece. The story is a study in when the artist lets the public see his creations.

I played Duke Nukem 3D back in 1996 when I was still in college. While I loved the game, newer games with better graphics quickly took Duke's place on my computer. Like everyone else who loved the game and the character, I followed DNF's developments in the late 1990s and eagerly awaited a playable demo or even video footage. But by the early 2000s the game had become a punchline. Now I doubt we'll ever see anything playable from the 12 years 3DRealms and Broussard spent developing this game. It's a shame.

This is the birthday that was

How I planned to spend my 36th birthday:

After the NYRO concert on Saturday night, have a quick drink at the bar, then run home to get about five hours sleep. Wake up at 5 AM, go to the airport, fly to Pittsburgh, go to the Steelers-Packers game. Eat at Primanti Brothers, drive back to the airport, sleep at the hotel, and fly back to New York on Monday morning.

What really happened:

Saturday's blizzard didn't seem so bad in the afternoon. Holly and I continued to plan our trip all day, working out minor details over IM. I got ready for the concert and was on my way out the door when Jess told me that she'd heard that someone's flight out of JFK on Sunday had already been canceled. I checked JetBlue's website and our flight out had been canceled too. It wasn't even 6 PM on Saturday and the trip was off. I resolved to go and play a great concert and worry about the game later.

The concert was fantastic. Getting the chance to play Saint-Saens' "Organ" Symphony was a thrill I had waited twenty years to experience. When the organ thundered that massive C major chord to start the finale, I had a huge smile on my face. The floor of St. Mary's shook with the force of the organ and the power of the brass behind me. Between them, I could have played "Yankee Doodle" and no one would have heard me. After the concert, we had a few drinks with my friends from the orchestra and discussed our plan for Sunday. While I was disappointed that we weren't going to make it to Pittsburgh for the game, I was happy to be able to sleep in on Sunday and relax on my birthday. And that's basically what happened. It was a leisurely morning, with birthday cake and omelets for breakfast. I went for a walk in the afternoon and saw families frolicking and sledding in the snow in Prospect Park. Then I went to James and Jess's apartment to watch the Steelers-Packers game and have dinner.

The game was not on in New York, so I listened to the first half online and then found a few underground sites where I could watch the FOX feed from overseas. And I was able to see the last few minutes of the game on their TV, when Mike Wallace caught a touchdown pass from Ben Roethlisberger with no time left on the clock. The booth review kept me from my customary touchdown dance, but I whooped and waved my Terrible Towel when the extra point won the game. I was happy the Steelers won, but I felt bad for the Packers and for Holly. However, I have every confidence we'll be watching the Pack in the playoffs in January, while the Steelers are at home wondering how their season got away from them.

So I never made it to Pittsburgh, and I have an expensive but worthless piece of unused card stock as a permanent reminder of a game I never attended. But I had a fantastic day here in New York anyway. It was a great way to start my 37th year on this planet.

The Muppets: Ringing of the Bells

I especially like the Chef's sweater. It looks like something a guy from Sweden would wear.

Some random musings about the Steelers

My reaction to the Steelers' fifth straight loss last night (to the Cleveland fucking Browns) was to finish off a bottle of rum and send texts and e-mails that I would later regret. Sleep did not make me feel much better.

I'm not here to swear off my team or call for anyone's head. The Steelers won the Super Bowl last year and have two championships in the past five years. I've been blessed as a fan. But five-game losing streaks are not something I'm used to seeing from my team. Especially when those losses are to the Chiefs, Raiders, and Browns, all among the worst teams in the league. Now we can include Pittsburgh in that group. Those six wins on the schedule look like flukes now.

I have a plane ticket and a game ticket for next week's game vs. the Packers. I'm going to get up before dawn next Sunday morning (also my birthday) and fly to Pittsburgh to see my team. Two weeks ago it looked like a playoff contender showdown. Now the Steelers are just playing for respect. I'm going to the game with Holly, a Packers fan (though I won't hold that against her). It's the first time I've dated a serious football fan and then had my team play her team. That scenario alone will make the afternoon more interesting. If we don't kill each other during the game we'll have a great time.

It's going to be hard to watch the playoffs without the Steelers. The good thing is that my blood pressure will go down and I won't order my best friend to leave my apartment because he's rooting for the other team. And then there's the long off-season of regret and ruminations. The Steelers won't be down for long. I have faith.

And I have the Penguins.

Why are you on the phone in the elevator?

There are some people who work in my building (not on my floor) who get on the elevator in the middle of a cell phone call. Inevitably, these people end up shouting "Hello? Hello? Can you hear me?" into the phone before looking at it curiously. I'm talking about full-grown adults who have lived in the cell phone age long enough to know when and where cellular network coverage is available. The elevator is not a place where one can expect to get full bars or even one bar. It's in the middle of the building, surrounded by steel and concrete. Elevators are where cell phone signals go to die. Yet these people check their phones like dropped calls are a mysterious phenomenon never before experienced by human beings.

These are also the same people who answer the phone on the subway while the train is above ground, then shout "hello? Hello?" again when the train goes underground. Your phone is not made of magic, sir. It does not work in the bowels of the city (and we like it that way, lest we all be subjected to your inane conversation for our entire journey). Why don't you put that thing away before you hurt yourself? I'll give you a dollar and you can get yourself a candy phone to play with. Enjoy!

My big date for charity

Last night was the big “date” at the New York Philharmonic that came out of last month's NYRO benefit gala. The winner of the date was Jorge, a member of NYRO's trumpet section. Our evening began with dinner at The City Grill on the Upper West Side. Jorge and I shared some sparkling conversation and at times he took my advertised role as “bon vivant,” with better stories than mine.

The Philharmonic's program consisted of Arthur Honegger's Symphony No. 2 for strings with solo trumpet ad libitum (performed by the Philharmonic's principal trumpet, Philip Smith) and Beethoven's Symphony No. 3, “Eroica,” with Riccardo Muti at the podium. The Honegger symphony was well-played but not really my kind of classical music, though we both enjoyed Mr. Smith's solo near the end of the work. After intermission Muti led the Philharmonic in a spirited reading of the “Eroica.” The audience had barely stopped applauding his return to the stage when the orchestra struck the two opening E-flat chords that begin the symphony. I've seen Muti conduct the Philharmonic before, but I hadn't noticed how he would stop conducting entirely for several measures and let the orchestra play on before his right hand lifted the baton again. At least that's how it appeared to me sitting several hundred feet away in the second tier. For all I know, Muti's face told the orchestra everything they needed to know during those measures. Muti also appeared slightly annoyed by all the coughing and rustling from the audience between movements, twice lifting his baton to start the movement and then lowering it, before raising it a second time and beginning. As much as I love the string section, there were a few spots where they covered up the winds. I wanted to shout at them to get out of the way. The highlight for me was the excellent work of the Philharmonic's French horn section. The horn calls in the third and fourth movements, especially the coda, were lively and rousing. During the curtain calls, Muti recognized the orchestra's solo performers as usual, but when he came back out and asked the orchestra to stand, they refused and applauded him for at least thirty seconds before finally standing. The Philharmonic's ovation reminded me of this concert review in the Washington Post by Anne Midgette, which pointed out that Muti was a candidate for the orchestra's music directorship several years ago (a job that went to Alan Gilbert). It's clear that the orchestra likes working with Muti, and as Midgette pointed out, this concert was an example of what might have been had Muti taken the Philharmonic's position.

After the concert Jorge and I went to the green room, hoping to meet Philip Smith. Mr. Smith is something of an old family friend, as his father and my grandfather were colleagues many years ago and Mr. Smith worked with my grandfather at a band camp a long time ago. After a few minutes' wait, Mr. Smith came out to say hello. I was excited to meet someone from the orchestra whose work I've enjoyed for so many years. But Jorge was thrilled. It was like he met one of his idols. I took a photo of Jorge and Mr. Smith, and Jorge said several times that his wife (also a trumpeter) would be jealous. We also got to meet the Philharmonic's associate principal trumpet, Matthew Muckey. Jorge and I ended the evening with a couple of beers at a local watering hole before going our separate ways. It was as good a date as I've ever put together.

What I'm thankful for today

My family and my friends, who support me through good times and bad, and through good decisions and heartbreaking works of staggering boneheadedness.

My cats, who don't care when I come home as long as I do, and that I feed them as soon as I walk through the door.

My job, because I'd rather have a job I'm not 100% happy about than no job at all.

My iPhone: it's the first thing I check in the morning and the last thing I check at night.

New York: after ten years, it's still the toughest town I've ever known but I can't imagine living anywhere else.

Music, especially NYRO and the NY Philharmonic. The former provides me with a place to play with a great group of talented friends, and the latter gives me some of the best performances I've ever heard and motivates me to work harder for NYRO.

The food I'm about to make (and receive). It's not Thanksgiving without turkey, potatoes, and pie. (I'm making potatoes.)

A four-day weekend.

Football.

The virtual mayhem that is Modern Warfare 2. I may not leave my apartment all weekend.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Two posts in one: Bob Dylan and The Road

I don't get to many concerts beyond the New York Philharmonic. I don't keep up with the musicians and bands I like, so often I find out one of my favorite groups has already passed through New York and I missed them. A few weeks ago my friend Creighton asked a group of us if we were interested in seeing Bob Dylan. I'd seen Dylan twice in the 1990s but not since then. Everyone else wanted to go and I thought it would be fun to see him again with my friends. On Tuesday night we went to the United Palace Theatre at Broadway and 175^th Street for Dylan and his band, with Dion (of “The Wanderer” fame) as the opening act. We all skipped Dion's set, except for the last song. Creighton and I chatted in the theater lobby while James and Jessica had dinner nearby. We found our seats just as Dion wrapped up with “The Wanderer.” About half an hour later Dylan and his band came out. He played a few old songs like “It's All Over Now, Baby Blue,” “A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall,” and “Highway 61 Revisited” but with new arrangements. He drew heavily from his albums from this decade, which I don't know at all, but I enjoyed the new songs nonetheless. His voice is gravelly but his stage presence and musicianship on the keyboard, guitar, and harmonica are still formidable. His rendition of “Ballad of a Thin Man” was riveting. Guitarist Charlie Sexton was another highlight of the show, moving effortlessly between rock, blues, and folk arrangements and wailing on all of them. Dylan didn't say a word to the audience until the encore when he introduced the band. He closed his set with “Like A Rolling Stone,” “Jolene,” and “All Along The Watchtower,” which was as energetic as any of the more recent rock versions I know. (The full setlist is here.)

On Wednesday evening my friend Sam invited me to a preview screening of The Road, the new movie based on the book by Cormac McCarthy. Sam is a friend from Deadspin and a location scout for movie productions and he writes A Scouting Life, one of the most fascinating blogs I've ever read. (Start from the beginning if you haven't read it before; the entry on the Native American bar is spellbinding.) The film itself is every bit as powerful and moving as the book on which it's based. The filmmakers captured the novel's bleak environment without CGI or special effects. And the actors' performances were pitch-perfect. Viggo Mortensen and Kodi Smit-McPhee seemed like they'd leapt from the pages of the book. Their relationship was so intimate and heartfelt that the room got a little dusty at the end of the film.

After the movie, Mortensen and director John Hillcoat participated in a Q&A session moderated by a writer from Variety. They talked about the entire process, from reading the script and meeting McCarthy to scouting locations to shooting. Mortensen spoke of his relationship with his son and how his experience of being a father helped with his performance. Both he and Hillcoat joked about how the cinematographer would shout and rage when the sun came out, spoiling a cloudy scene. Near the end of the session, Mortensen had a trivia challenge for us, asking us progressively more difficult questions about the movie. The prizes included copies of McCarthy's books, CDs and DVDs, and cookies from a local bakery. One happy cookie winner asked Mortensen to take a bite of the cookie before giving it away, so he and Hillcoat obliged. I should have answered a question about a piece of music in the movie, especially since I'd seen the title in the credits, but I wasn't 100% certain of the answer. And everyone knows I hate to be wrong in a trivia contest. Besides, I didn't want a Noam Chomsky DVD as a prize.

This time, I took notes for this review

I took myself out on another date this past Saturday evening to the New York Philharmonic. What can I say? I know what I like. I had a gift certificate that I had to use before the end of the year. And as I found myself with another under-programmed weekend, I decided at the last possible moment to try and use the gift certificate for Saturday's concert of works by Haydn, Martinu, and Sibelius. I arrived at the box office about a half-hour before they closed for the afternoon and got a box seat in the second tier. I don't love sitting in the boxes, since you can't see part of the stage. But last-minute ticket buyers can't be picky and I was just happy to have a seat in the hall and a plan for the evening. I killed the next three hours by checking out the new Apple store on 67^th and Broadway (the upper floor is impressive, but there's too much wasted space and the lower floor is cramped), Barnes & Noble, and Best Buy, then had a delicious sushi dinner and caught a little college football before heading back to Avery Fisher Hall.

I got to my seat a few minutes before the concert started. I was close to the stage and had an excellent view of the guest conductor, Xian Zhang, who I'd seen a few years earlier in her role as associate conductor of the Philharmonic. The first work on the program was Haydn's Symphony No. 95, which I didn't know all that well. The Philharmonic's rendition was good but perhaps a bit too energetic. I may be woefully uninformed but this doesn't seem to be an orchestra designed to play Haydn and Mozart. Either that, or Zhang's conducting was a little too enthusiastic and vigorous for a lighter composer like Haydn. Her gestures were precise but overly expressive and the orchestra reacted by playing louder and with more power than the work required. There were a few sections where the strings overpowered the winds and brass when a more delicate touch would have balanced the volume. Zhang reminded me of Gustavo Dudamel. She didn't share his exultation in every phrase of the music, but she did demonstrate expressive gestures similar to Dudamel's. During the Haydn symphony, I thought about writing down my impressions for this review so I wouldn't have to strain to remember the details later. I found that the back of the “upcoming concerts” insert in the program makes for a suitable notepad for the amateur concert reviewer. However, next time I think I'll bring a real notebook.

Zhang's style was much better suited to Martinu's Piano Concerto No. 4, subtitled Incantation. I'm not that familiar with Martinu's overall catalog but I've enjoyed everything of his that I've heard so far. His music is a mix of Czech themes with atonality and tonality blended in an unusual but pleasing way. I don't remember many details of the piano concerto, though there were times where the brass overwhelmed the strings. Maybe it was where I was sitting, or the normal issues conductors have with Avery Fisher's acoustics. Watching soloist Garrick Ohlsson and Zhang at the podium, I thought that Ohlsson appeared reserved compared to Zhang's overt expression. At the end of the work I noticed that Ohlsson looked extremely tall. Maybe he is, or maybe Zhang is just that short. But he's a really big man. You know what they say about big pianists: they have big hands.

After the intermission came the work I was most interested in hearing: Sibelius's Symphony No. 1. I've become more familiar with Sibelius' symphonies over the past few years and his 1^st has become one of my favorites. From the first measures, after Mark Nuccio's excellent clarinet solo, I had the idea that Sibelius is the type of composer whose works the Philharmonic has been built to perform. It was clear that this symphony was the piece on the program with which they were most familiar. (They last played in in 2008, while they hadn't played the other works in many years.) Zhang also seemed most at home with this piece. Here, her expressiveness and energy found a welcome home. It's possible that I was overcome by my own familiarity with the work, but I had chills throughout the final movement. It was just like when I heard the Philharmonic perform Sibelius's 2^nd Symphony last June. I knew what was coming, and I reacted as I expected: I was nearly on the edge of my seat waiting to hear how the orchestra played the work. Sibelius's music has such expansive themes combined with brass explosions and delicate wind chorales that I found it difficult to listen with a detached, critical ear. I don't know how professional reviewers do it. I thoroughly enjoyed the Sibelius and I'd consider paying to hear it again. It was that good.

I'm glad I decided to take myself out tonight. Aside from having the Saturday night free for the concert, it was a performance that I would have regretted missing had I passed on it for another concert later in the season. My only regret for the afternoon and evening was that I couldn't find a seat at a Starbucks. I had brought my laptop with the hope of getting some work done on some personal projects, but I couldn't find any open seats at any Starbucks in the Lincoln Square area. So I carried a heavy backpack all over the neighborhood for nothing. I may count that as exercise for the weekend.

Back at the (imaginary) podium

NYRO held its annual benefit gala a few weeks ago. This was the 2nd year for the event and I've been involved in the planning both times. In addition, this year I was also a featured attraction. I was going to donate a pair of New York Philharmonic tickets to the raffle when one of my friends suggested that I include myself in the deal. The idea turned into "win a date with Phil" and I became an auction item. After some heated bidding, one of the trumpeters won. His wife, also a trumpeter, was cool with the idea of her husband and I spending an evening on the town.

We also held a silent auction for other items, both goods and services. Near the end of the night as the silent auction wrapped up, I noticed that no one had bid on our music director's donation of a conducting lesson. Maybe it was the alcohol or the cash burning a hole in my pocket, but I couldn't let that item go without someone bidding on it. I was prepared to fight for it, but no one else made a bid so I won.

I have some experience as a conductor. My parents showed me the basic beat patterns when I was a kid. I spent many hours in my room in front of my stereo conducting an imaginary orchestra from the score and a recording. In college I led the orchestra in a humorous rendition of Rossini's Overture to "The Barber of Seville" with a plastic chicken as a baton, and later became something of a de facto assistant conductor. In my last concert before graduation, I conducted the orchestra in Sibelius' "Finlandia." And I was a music director for two rock musicals where a conductor wasn't really necessary. But that has been the extent of my conducting career. I haven't thought much about conducting since college. The realities of life crept into the space that dream used to occupy. I'm excited about this lesson because it will let me live in that dream's space for just a short time. And it's going to be a challenge: I've been asked to prepare a couple of pieces. This thing is for real. If I actually get to conduct the orchestra, I'm going to be more nervous than I've been in years.

The trouble with Twitter

If you read through the archives of this august publication, you will find an assortment of posts both short and long on a wide variety of topics. Most of them are of the navel-gazing sort, reflecting on events in my life or offering my observations on current events. I've written about politics, sports, the Philharmonic, the subway, and the Upper East Side, just to name a few. Sometimes they are quick thoughts or jokes I couldn't develop into longer pieces.

Over the past year I've allowed myself to be sucked into using Twitter (and by extension, Facebook) for many of my short, one-off jokes or thoughts. So the "more frequent Twitter ruminations" gadget updates all the time, while the "occasional musings" main heading lies fallow. While I have heard no complaints, I don't want this blog to dry up and blow away, superseded by more immediate social networking systems. I would like to continue to offer my readers a longer form of discourse that requires more time than a refresh of the news feed. Also, I want to post more than 100 entries for this year. So there will be more posts here in the closing months of 2009, just as soon as I think of them.

This post was in part an excuse for the headline.