Thursday, November 19, 2009

That Man Peter Berlin Soundtrack Released

Now on iTunes is the original motion picture soundtrack I composed for the 2005 award-winning documentary That Man Peter Berlin.

It also includes one bonus "alternate" (read rejected) cue, for the ending sequence "(If I could) Redo My Life."

Revisiting this score, I am pleased with how it sounds. It was recorded in my former studio in a Victorian garrett on Laguna Street in San Francisco. The score has real flute, oboe, and cello throughout. I used two computers synchronized via MTC (midi time code). One computer ran video (.movs) and serial MIDI, using Logic, to control a souped-up Emulator E6400 and a Proteus module. A second computer ran digital audio on ProTools. Audio went through an analog mixing console. The mixes were recorded to DAT (all tracks on the ProTools system being maxed out), and then transferred back to computer digitally.

I believe I have printed scores for the whole project, or at least for the flute, oboe, and cello parts, somewhere. There are some interesting synth sounds used as well. The idea was not to hide the use of electronics, but to use electronic sounds which might blend well and support the acoustic sounds. So it doesn't sound like synth orchestra, it sounds like its own natural, organic thing.

Musically it's also a very interesting score. Some of the themes are rather sophisticated for film music. Check out iTunes' sample clip for "War" with the "Peter" theme stated in the flute. That theme is used in many of the cues, but they all sound rather different. "Magazines and Kitty" features some interesting tone clusters.

Check out what a nice job the German distributor did editing together music and clips!
Here's the opening montage.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

The Gaz Howards of San Francisco

A few days ago I attended an art opening in San Francisco. Great and iconoclastic visual artists have come out of San Francisco, but nevertheless, art openings in San Francisco are not what they are in New York or London. Much of the crowd, and what passes for galleries, can usually be described in one of four ways: catering-to-tourists, young-DIY-art-students, Valencia hipsters, or residue-of-some-old-clique.

The opening I attended fell squarely into the last category, peppered with veterans of the mid-90s San Francisco underground performing arts scene, many of them still active with their endeavors.

One such performer whom I’d not seen in years approached me, all wide eyes and smiles, and immediately began to talk about himself. Something along the lines of, “Why haven’t you seen my show?” What a way to reanimate that old cliché, “But enough about me, what do you think about me?”

The other thing it brought to mind was the Gaz Howard character from HP Mendoza’s musical film, Fruitfly. I had just seen Fruitfly for a second time when I was at image+nation in Montréal. (My own film Dan’s Big Hands was the opening short. “But enough about me…”) I found I enjoyed Fruitfly much more the second time.

Gaz Howard is a locally successful performing artist (magician) who rapturously talks about himself at every opportunity, and always turns the conversation back to his own work, events, talent, and importance.

In a similar fashion, back at the gallery opening, once that performer was done hawking his show, there was nothing else to talk about and the conversation was over.

There seems to be too much of this attitude and approach in San Francisco. I always think it’s better to have other people talk about you, rather than talking about yourself. I wonder, is this unique to San Francisco? Does it happen everywhere? Is there something about San Francisco, the narrow confines of the city, the limited possibilities, and the suffocating compression of a small but ambitious art scene that fosters such a self-centered attitude?

Fruitfly received much criticism for its lack of plot and direction. Variety said the film has “low narrative drive” andplotwise, little happens, and once introduced, subsidiary strands … are simply neglected.”

I would suggest that, in Gaz Howard, Mendoza had the perfect villain in his lap. It was only a missed opportunity. Gaz Howard could have really given the film a powerful climax, as opposed to being a loose thread in an otherwise fine tapestry. After Gaz gets the theatre instead of Beth, Gaz disappears and that plotline fizzles. From there it could have gone to another, higher, more dramatic level. I’m not going to suggest an alternate ending, other than to say that instead of having Gaz disappear, his character and all he represents could have played a major role in the film’s ending.

While Fruitfly seems to be about Beth and Windy, Hag and Fag, it is Gaz who supplies the most dramatic tension. And rightfully so. Windy is on Beth’s side. They may have misunderstandings and adventures together, but Gaz is evil lurking in disguise beneath a smiling exterior. We never see that evil fully realized, unleashed, and combated. I’m not suggesting who would triumph, or what the denouement might be. I am just saying, there’s your story. Gaz Howard v. Beth. Gaz could have amusingly been connected to some of the other evils presented as well. After all, San Francisco is a small town with many tangled webs.

Which returns me to gallery opening, which made me realize what a brilliant take on San Francisco life and culture Fruitfly is. Gaz brilliant caricatures many artists and scenesters.

Why are people like that? Does it make me want to go see their show? Is this personality type a natural breed or is it a result of the lack of appreciation for the arts? So many people run around screaming, “Look at me! Look at me!” If I dwell on it, I think, am I like that, too?

But enough about me. What do you think of me? Oh yes, and why haven’t you seen my show?

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Opera as History Lesson ?

I did an email interview with Drew Bourne, a PhD who writes the Using SF History Blog.

http://usingsfhistory.com/2009/10/20/history-as-opera-halloween-in-the-castro/

These are the questions he asked me and my responses.

Q1) How far back in time does the opera go in presenting Halloween in Eureka Valley / the Castro?

A) It is unspecific. In Act II, the Sister recalls previous Halloweens, and recounts the involvement of the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence. The event grew from a neighborhood event to an event which was a fund raiser which raised money for charities and had shows and donations, then after some years became unmanageable. One year, there were more arrests than Sisters present hosting the event! This led to a vote in which the Sisters decided they could no longer host the event, because of the number of arrests and threat to public safety.

Q2) What kinds of sources were used to develop the opera's version of how Halloween changed over time in the Castro? For example, did you rely primarily on published material (books, newspaper accounts, articles for periodicals), or perhaps on oral histories / interviews with living persons? Did you use any material from any Bay Area archives (such as the San Francisco History Center, or the California Historical Society, or the GLBT Historical Society, or the Bancroft Library at UC Berkeley)?

A) I lived in the Castro from 1994 to 2001. I've lived in SF on and off since 1991.

Factual research was done online sourcing legitimate news sources, including national television, mainstream press, and local gay press. Please see the attachments to this email.
You should understand that I use the story of Castro Halloween in the way a librettist uses a historical backdrop. This is very common in opera. Many operas are situated in political events or times; think of Tosca, Billy Budd, Le Grand Macabre, Doctor Atomic, Appomatox, and so on. The primary story is a human story, of love, death, tragedy, and strong human emotions. The opera uses Castro Halloween as a backdrop or locale for all that. The opera is not a documentary nor a docudrama. It's not a re-enactment. It mentions, in Act II, in the scene with the Sister, the horrors of Halloweens past, and all those horrific events are true. However, the 'present day' story of the opera is a fiction, it's drama.

I did not use the GLBT Historical Society for any research for this project, although I do have a connection to the archive. Director Todd Wilson passed away in 2005. I had scored Todd's groundbreaking TLA feature film Under One Roof, about an asian-white interracial gay relationship, and we had become close friends. When Todd passed away, he left behind boxes of art, photographs, scripts, notes, and film that the family was about to throw out. No one really came to 'claim' the material, and they had a whole house of stuff to deal with, and they were really not equipped to handle anything like that. I took all the boxes, as much as I could fit into my 1977 MG Midget (that I had at the time), and took it down to Terence at the Historical Society. They took ALL the material. It was a very emotional time and thing for me. I could not bear to see anyone's creative work thrown away like that. And I felt good that the archive took it all. I don't know if it's been catalogued yet. Some of the photographs are amazing. I thought about taking some of them, but I decided it would be best for posterity if the archive had the entire collection intact. So it's all there at the archive. One day I hope it's catalogued.

Q3) how do you see the history of Halloween in the Castro as being important? In other words, do you hope that audience members, upon gaining a richer understanding of that history, might somehow use that understanding in any particular ways?

A) The history of Castro Halloween is a microcosm for the issues facing San Francisco.

For many years, Halloween in the Castro has degenerated from a fun, quirky, San Francisco neighborhood event to a massive, uncontrollable human mass plagued by bashings and murder. While cities like New Orleans profit from gay events – Southern Decadence brings the city $100 Million or more – San Francisco has been unable to harness any similar benefit from its popular celebration. While simple solutions which would raise money for the city are plentiful – re-routing traffic, metal detectors, charging admission, a Guardian Angel type program to name a few – any solution is repeatedly ignored year after year, while politicians try to ‘cancel’ the event, leaving the Castro without street closures, toilets, or police protection, and allowing the bars to stay open and profit from mass consumption of alcohol.

The yearly Castro Halloween debate and debacle has become a microcosm for San Francisco at large. As San Francisco has grown with money and population from the technology boom, the facets which reflect a quirky, queer, hippy, idiosyncratic, beat, or neighborhood population have become rare, commodified, or disrupted. While the Castro is thought of as a ‘Gay Mecca,’ it struggles with how to manage an historic event through reoccurring violence and masses of gawkers. San Francisco as whole struggles with the loss of a creative, lower-income, hippy, queer population as it becomes swamped with a mainstream influx unconcerned with the lasting impact on what was a unique and delicate human environment.

Q4) How would you describe the challenges or opportunities inherent in using opera as a format to deliver an historical account (as opposed to using other formats, such as creating a documentary; publishing a book or article; developing a website; or staging a demonstration)?

A) Well, I'd like to emphasize that we're not delivering an historical account. We're putting on an opera. There's historical references in it, which are necessary to act as exposition for fictional events which unfold. Some bits of the opera are very Gilbert and Sullivan. The characters are archetypes, amalgamations, archetypical representations of classic San Francisco characters. The Bitter Queen. Castro Gym Queens. The City Supervisor. The Policewoman. And so on. Each of the characters is either archetypal, or an amalgamation of various San Francisco public figures. So there isn’t any direct, one-to-one correspondence with real people or historical figures. However, different political factions and popular approaches are represented. It’s fairly well known who the major interests in the Halloween situation are. Of course, some of the archetypes are mocked, in a very Gilbert and Sullivan kind of way, and there are of course references to real events and situations. The goal was to tell a story and to be real and true to the political concerns which are facing the Castro and San Francisco at large. Many of the characters are also based on personalities you commonly find here. And it’s a big cast with many important roles.

When opera tackles an historical account, contemporarily Doctor Atomic or Appomatox, for example, it's good in the sense that people know the story coming into the opera. They may not know all the details, or how it will be done, but they have an idea of what it's about. So it helps get an audience in the door and it helps get an audience interested and it helps find an audience which will relate to the subject matter.

The opera is very different from publishing a book or an article in a peer-reviewed journal, or making a website or staging a demonstration. To me that's a bit like comparing apples and oranges, and I'm not sure where to begin. The only thing I can think of is that perhaps they all fall into some kind of community activism. Because LGCSF, the commissioning arts organization, is a community organization, they are boldly making a political statement about Castro Halloween as a community. So much of the community has been subject to policy decisions (like closing muni stations, or putting up barricades not to protect pedestrian crowds from traffic, but to keep them crowded on the sidewalk). There have been "community meetings" but if you look at, for example, homeforhalloween.com, there's references to meetings which were never announced. Why not blog about the meeting before it happens so people will know about it? This opera could be considered a form of community activism, like a website or a demonstration. It's the community having their own say about the matter. The opera mocks the foibles and hypocrisies of local politics. It doesn't give out any solutions. It doesn't attempt to solve any problems. Like Gilbert and Sullivan, it just points out the flaws in the system, and suggests that Castro Halloween is worth caring about, and that there is a viable solution out there.

Friday, October 16, 2009

Silent, Holy, Hanukah Bush

And, just in case, you were wondering what to sing for your upcoming Holiday Show...



Sunday, September 20, 2009

José Antonio Sistiaga / Savage Republic / SF Cinématheque

Sunday 20 Septembre 2009. Victoria Theatre. San Francisco Cinématheque presented a rare screening of José Antonio Sistiaga's Ere Erera Baleibu Icik Subua Aruaren (1970). (The whimsical title does not have any literal meaning.) This 75-minute, entirely hand-painted, silent, abstract film is rarely screened anywhere. The 35mm print, along with a 7 minute short also by Sistiaga, was flown from Paris for this screening. Sistiaga painted on both sides of the film, to give it an extra-dimensional effect, according to Cinématheque Executive Director Jonathan Marlow.

As the film begins, it looks like you are driving through a heavy rainstorm of paint droplets. No image holds longer than a single frame throughout the whole film. Mesmerizingly, the film continues, treating us to dynamic visuals reminiscent of rippling water, veined leaves, bubbles, splotches of blood, or burrowing through rock and stone.

What is clearly magical is the way the brain makes the images appear to move. In fact, each frame of film is very small and while projected large, is still a separate image. The appearance of movement is manufactured effortlessly by our own perception.

Savage Republic provided a confident, highly appropriate musical accompaniment. Guitarist / percussionist / vocalist Ethan Port told me the music was in fact instrumental songs of the band's, strung together and extended for the performance. So while not precisely new music composed specifically for the film, it was a perfect fit, loud, psychedelic, dreamy, and hypnotic, a few "eastern" scales, and lots of jam band stylings. One section of the show was an erstwhile concerto for oil drum; that oil drum was the loudest thing there!

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Recent Press

Sequenza21
SFGate City Insider Blog (same story as SF Chronicle, as a blog post)
San Francisco Classical Voice critics' pick and preview of Jack Curtis Dubowsky Ensemble concert at Meridian Gallery Composers in Performance Series

Thursday, August 27, 2009

New Music At Carnegie Hall Online Advertisement


I just saw this online advertisement at the Sequenza21 website.
Notice who gets top billing.