Dear Colleague,
I recently had an exceptionally fine day with my wife at the State Fair. The usual things that come to mind were there: amusement park rides, textile and food exhibits, an extensive lumberjack competition, an exceptional plant exhibit (perennials and annuals), a formidable food gauntlet with everything from very good (crepes, Carolina bbq), to horrifying (corn dogs, and a place offering "mile-high fries"), livestock shows, a couple of horse competitions, and exhibits by the 4H and FFA.
Observing the young people involved in the FFA livestock exhibit brought home for me again the similarities between food and music. Surely you are thinking "of course the FFA and the Brandenburg concertos have many things in common." Or not. But, from my way of thinking, with which you are familiar, the fundamental elements involved here will not come as a surprise. It was a heart warming experience to see a group of young people so dedicated to something, with a sense of purpose, The discipline involved in caring for the animals from birth to whatever their final destination may be. A daily practice is involved, to be sure, in caring for the animals.
You ask, "I see how this dedication, routine, and respect for something is similar to music, but how does this relate to food?"
It is not the dedicated young people by themselves that provide the parallel. It is the interaction with the animals, some of which become food. Being part of this process gives one the opportunity to watch something grow, mature, and finally be part of something else. The animals that mutate into the food state go through another process and become part of something else, and at this point the young people are no longer involved. But they provided a unity in the food chain, similar to what Jean Philippe Rameau called in his Treatise on Harmony, the fundamental bass in music. Or as demonstrated in Francesco Gasparini's L'Armonico Pratico al Cimbalo, the building of harmony from the ground up.
An awareness of the source of our food, be it plant or animal, should be more a part of our daily eating. Ann Vileisis discusses this in captivating detail in her book Kitchen Literacy. And our daily practice of music should include an awareness of the composition process. Very few of us these days are performer-composers such as J. S. Bach, Giuseppe Tartini, or François Couperin, and fewer still of us have made the effort to study rhetoric and oration and their relevance in composition and performance. An awareness of the sources and processes is our foundation for food and music and are essential to a good understanding of them, and should be considered in our preparation of both.
When people speak of grassroots movements, they perhaps should think of Rameau or Gasparini, and build their structure from the bottom up, grass fed.
I remain,
y.m.h.&o.s.,
Quantzalcoatl
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
04 September 2011
15 March 2011
Iberia and the New World (¿Por aquí o para llevar?)
Dear Colleague,
To help prepare emotionally, as well as intellectually and musically, for the concert of Baroque, Renaissance, and Traditional music from Spain and Latin America (and one piece of Yaqui Indian origins), a sampling of cuisine from Spain, Mexico, and Argentina was needed.
The menu:
Paella (from Steve Raichlen's Healthy Latin Cuisine), substituting squid rings and bay scallops for the shrimp.
Posole (with blue corn hominy) (After I browned the pork loin chunks I just tossed everything into the slow cooker; may have overdone the Chimayo chile pepper for the taste of some . . . )
Tacos de carne asada (After rolling out a few tortillas by hand, I lost patience and just grabbed a package of the local corn tortillas I always have around, for just such an emergency) A good marinade of lime juice, salt, and olive oil worked well on the meat.
Matambre. This recipe comes from an older Time-Life book we bought at a used book store. The most difficult part is the flaying of the skirt steak. Next time I'm having the butcher do it, or at least make sure my knives are properly sharpened. That is another story for another time . . .
And the blending of cuisines: risotto with Chimayo chile, shiitake mushrooms, and sweet potatoes.
This seems almost redundant given that the paella is the Spanish version of risotto, but this had no seafood in it. The chicken Andouille was the perfect protein for this (and I took it easy on the Chimayo this time).
Yes, this was a ton of food to prepare over a couple of days but the gang pitched in to defer the costs and took care of the clean up.
The program, as usual with these cross-genre events, required me to do all sorts of things that, in theory, I've trained for, but the reality is that I don't get to practice these skills enough. Thanks be to Providence, the music writing software program does some of it for me. With the trad player on the program we went to a=440 Hz, which, as you know, is less-than-ideal for Baroque flutes, so I opted for whole tone transposition for the pieces which used the flute. I switched to recorder for a couple of pieces, and even played the quena on one piece.Add to that the occasional need to improvise an accompaniment in styles of music that are far removed from either Tartini or Quantz in their styles, techniques, and harmonic vocabularies, and you have a flute player on the edge. The edge of what, we cannot say . . .
The concert went well and was not without some shameless grandstanding. For the last piece on the program, an arrangement of Santiago de Murcia's "Folias gallegas," I played an African drum as well as flute, even doing both at the same time on a few occasions when the extemporized aspect of the piece allowed for a drone on the tonic note while I beat a rhythm on the drum.
Next time this program happens, I'll make sure you are on the gig. We had too many leftovers and not enough flute players.
y.m.h.&o.s.,
quantzalcoatl
To help prepare emotionally, as well as intellectually and musically, for the concert of Baroque, Renaissance, and Traditional music from Spain and Latin America (and one piece of Yaqui Indian origins), a sampling of cuisine from Spain, Mexico, and Argentina was needed.
The menu:
Paella (from Steve Raichlen's Healthy Latin Cuisine), substituting squid rings and bay scallops for the shrimp.
Posole (with blue corn hominy) (After I browned the pork loin chunks I just tossed everything into the slow cooker; may have overdone the Chimayo chile pepper for the taste of some . . . )
Tacos de carne asada (After rolling out a few tortillas by hand, I lost patience and just grabbed a package of the local corn tortillas I always have around, for just such an emergency) A good marinade of lime juice, salt, and olive oil worked well on the meat.
Matambre. This recipe comes from an older Time-Life book we bought at a used book store. The most difficult part is the flaying of the skirt steak. Next time I'm having the butcher do it, or at least make sure my knives are properly sharpened. That is another story for another time . . .
And the blending of cuisines: risotto with Chimayo chile, shiitake mushrooms, and sweet potatoes.
This seems almost redundant given that the paella is the Spanish version of risotto, but this had no seafood in it. The chicken Andouille was the perfect protein for this (and I took it easy on the Chimayo this time).
Yes, this was a ton of food to prepare over a couple of days but the gang pitched in to defer the costs and took care of the clean up.
The program, as usual with these cross-genre events, required me to do all sorts of things that, in theory, I've trained for, but the reality is that I don't get to practice these skills enough. Thanks be to Providence, the music writing software program does some of it for me. With the trad player on the program we went to a=440 Hz, which, as you know, is less-than-ideal for Baroque flutes, so I opted for whole tone transposition for the pieces which used the flute. I switched to recorder for a couple of pieces, and even played the quena on one piece.Add to that the occasional need to improvise an accompaniment in styles of music that are far removed from either Tartini or Quantz in their styles, techniques, and harmonic vocabularies, and you have a flute player on the edge. The edge of what, we cannot say . . .
The concert went well and was not without some shameless grandstanding. For the last piece on the program, an arrangement of Santiago de Murcia's "Folias gallegas," I played an African drum as well as flute, even doing both at the same time on a few occasions when the extemporized aspect of the piece allowed for a drone on the tonic note while I beat a rhythm on the drum.
Next time this program happens, I'll make sure you are on the gig. We had too many leftovers and not enough flute players.
y.m.h.&o.s.,
quantzalcoatl
07 February 2008
Poulet-à-bec (Chicken and Hotteterre)
Dear Colleague,
Last night we had citrus chicken and roasted root vegetables (details below), while a cold winter rain confirmed our life at The Home for Wayward Muses in the Salmon Capital of North America.
The soundtrack for cooking was Couperin's Leçons de Ténèbres, performed by a group which contrasted the Catholic music with Arabic instrumental and vocal music between each lesson. Very interesting, and a bit shocking upon first hearing. So for me, a successful recording; it kept my attention through its duration.
The food was comforting and the weather was merely a light rain (and a balmy 34 F / 2 C) so the Couperin recording seemed more appropriate than Vivaldi's Opus 8, no. 4. And it was Boxing Day so some primal need from my childhood for sacred music at this time of year had made itself evident. But just thinking about that Vivaldi concerto got me thinking of the Rousseau arrangement of the Opus 8, no. 1 (Am I wrong in thinking it is one of your favorite encore pieces? Or is that the one piece that might send you to the dentist from the fierce grinding of your molars at the mere mention of it?).
Speaking of Couperin, and French music in general, I've been using Hotteterre's "Ornamented Airs and Brunettes" for beginning traverso students.
Why in the world would I do that, out of all the things that could be done? Well, the melodies themselves are not complicated, have a relatively small tessitura, and are short in duration. I have them practice the pieces sans agréments. They can then focus their attention on tone, breathing, and with people used to the modern flute, remembering the fingerings and embouchure position for notes such as F#, F-natural, and Bb, for example. Once we get the tone, breathing, and blowing issues sorted out, then the ornaments are introduced and then the dental grindstone (speaking of molars . . . ) of music making can begin.
After a few months of wading through the Airs & Brunettes, they start to get comfortable with playing the traverso, playing ornaments without losing time or an excess of air ("you're spewing again" is a regular idée fixe in the studio). Then I introduce them to Hotteterre's L'Art de Préluder. That gets them used to playing in more than one key, and really developing an intimate relationship with the traverso. Then we go for non-French music and they are amazed at how relaxed they feel when faced with passage work that extends over several bars, even one bar, and that 16th-notes seem downright slow by comparison to the seemingly endless supply of notes that must be played in the space of an 8th-note in the heretical Hotteterre and his annoying agréments (those feelings belong to the students, not me!).
To put the orthodontia to better use, here is the Boxing Day Repast:
Citrus Chicken
(adapted from Giada Delaurentis's recipe on the Food Network):
4 chicken breast halves (boneless, skinless)
1 each of lemon, lime, blood orange, thinly sliced
Dash of lemon, lime, or orange juice
Salt and pepper
Pre-heat oven to 400 F / 205 C
Braise chicken in olive oil in an oven-proof skillet/casserole or a Dutch/French oven until lightly browned on both sides.
Remove chicken from pan and line pan with a melange of the sliced citrus.
Place chicken on top of the citrus, season with salt and pepper, and place remaining citrus slices on top of the chicken. Pour the dash of juices around the rest of the pan.
Bake, covered, for 1 hour.
Serves 4-6
Roasted Root Vegetables
1 Rutabaga
3 Parsnips
1 Red garnet yam*
*(Almost any root vegetable may be used here; this is just what I had on hand last night)
Chop rutabaga into 3/4"-1" chunks
Similarly chop the parsnips
Cut yam in half then lengthwise down the middle, then cut those pieces in half again
Put in bowl, lightly coat with olive oil, then season with salt and pepper.
Lightly oil a baking pan and arrange vegetables on it, trying not to overlap or layer.
Bake at 400 F / 205 C for one hour or until the rutabagas are tender.
Serve in large platter with the citrus chicken and watch your hungry diners devour with glee, gusto, and a general sense of civilized voraciousness.
Pears in Red Wine (adapted from Lesley Mackley's The Book of Mediterranean Cooking)
4 whole pears (I prefer red)
3 cups red wine (temperanillo or a temperanillo/garnacha blend)
1 cinnamon stick
3 tablespoons sugar
Remove skin from the pears
In a saucepan large enough to hold the pears, heat the wine, cinnamon stick and sugar, on medium heat (but do not boil), and gently set the pears in the liquid.
Simmer, uncovered, 15-20 minutes, turning the pears once. Basting is welcome but not necessary.
Remove pears, turn up heat and reduce liquid to a syrup texture.
We like to serve the pears on a buckwheat waffle and a wee bit of vanilla ice cream. Pour the wine-syrup on top and add a small garnish of fresh mint leaves.
Follow with a wee dram of Edradour (where they "take it back to the old school" as we say) or a snifter of Cardenal Mendoza, (established 1781), and contemplate your next musical project.
Speaking of next projects, my next project will be to finalize in paper form the "10 Steps to Baroque Ornamentation" that I showed you on your last visit to Salmon Central. After the paper form is settled, the next step will be to make a video recording of the musical examples. Looks as if I'll be in for some dedicated practice on the "Gavotte de Corelli" by Monsiuer Blavet. [And how did that little gem not make its way onto your Blavet recording?]
Until the next time,
I remain,
y.m.h.& o.s.,
quantzalcoatl
Last night we had citrus chicken and roasted root vegetables (details below), while a cold winter rain confirmed our life at The Home for Wayward Muses in the Salmon Capital of North America.
The soundtrack for cooking was Couperin's Leçons de Ténèbres, performed by a group which contrasted the Catholic music with Arabic instrumental and vocal music between each lesson. Very interesting, and a bit shocking upon first hearing. So for me, a successful recording; it kept my attention through its duration.
The food was comforting and the weather was merely a light rain (and a balmy 34 F / 2 C) so the Couperin recording seemed more appropriate than Vivaldi's Opus 8, no. 4. And it was Boxing Day so some primal need from my childhood for sacred music at this time of year had made itself evident. But just thinking about that Vivaldi concerto got me thinking of the Rousseau arrangement of the Opus 8, no. 1 (Am I wrong in thinking it is one of your favorite encore pieces? Or is that the one piece that might send you to the dentist from the fierce grinding of your molars at the mere mention of it?).
Speaking of Couperin, and French music in general, I've been using Hotteterre's "Ornamented Airs and Brunettes" for beginning traverso students.
Why in the world would I do that, out of all the things that could be done? Well, the melodies themselves are not complicated, have a relatively small tessitura, and are short in duration. I have them practice the pieces sans agréments. They can then focus their attention on tone, breathing, and with people used to the modern flute, remembering the fingerings and embouchure position for notes such as F#, F-natural, and Bb, for example. Once we get the tone, breathing, and blowing issues sorted out, then the ornaments are introduced and then the dental grindstone (speaking of molars . . . ) of music making can begin.
After a few months of wading through the Airs & Brunettes, they start to get comfortable with playing the traverso, playing ornaments without losing time or an excess of air ("you're spewing again" is a regular idée fixe in the studio). Then I introduce them to Hotteterre's L'Art de Préluder. That gets them used to playing in more than one key, and really developing an intimate relationship with the traverso. Then we go for non-French music and they are amazed at how relaxed they feel when faced with passage work that extends over several bars, even one bar, and that 16th-notes seem downright slow by comparison to the seemingly endless supply of notes that must be played in the space of an 8th-note in the heretical Hotteterre and his annoying agréments (those feelings belong to the students, not me!).
To put the orthodontia to better use, here is the Boxing Day Repast:
Citrus Chicken
(adapted from Giada Delaurentis's recipe on the Food Network):
4 chicken breast halves (boneless, skinless)
1 each of lemon, lime, blood orange, thinly sliced
Dash of lemon, lime, or orange juice
Salt and pepper
Pre-heat oven to 400 F / 205 C
Braise chicken in olive oil in an oven-proof skillet/casserole or a Dutch/French oven until lightly browned on both sides.
Remove chicken from pan and line pan with a melange of the sliced citrus.
Place chicken on top of the citrus, season with salt and pepper, and place remaining citrus slices on top of the chicken. Pour the dash of juices around the rest of the pan.
Bake, covered, for 1 hour.
Serves 4-6
Roasted Root Vegetables
1 Rutabaga
3 Parsnips
1 Red garnet yam*
*(Almost any root vegetable may be used here; this is just what I had on hand last night)
Chop rutabaga into 3/4"-1" chunks
Similarly chop the parsnips
Cut yam in half then lengthwise down the middle, then cut those pieces in half again
Put in bowl, lightly coat with olive oil, then season with salt and pepper.
Lightly oil a baking pan and arrange vegetables on it, trying not to overlap or layer.
Bake at 400 F / 205 C for one hour or until the rutabagas are tender.
Serve in large platter with the citrus chicken and watch your hungry diners devour with glee, gusto, and a general sense of civilized voraciousness.
Pears in Red Wine (adapted from Lesley Mackley's The Book of Mediterranean Cooking)
4 whole pears (I prefer red)
3 cups red wine (temperanillo or a temperanillo/garnacha blend)
1 cinnamon stick
3 tablespoons sugar
Remove skin from the pears
In a saucepan large enough to hold the pears, heat the wine, cinnamon stick and sugar, on medium heat (but do not boil), and gently set the pears in the liquid.
Simmer, uncovered, 15-20 minutes, turning the pears once. Basting is welcome but not necessary.
Remove pears, turn up heat and reduce liquid to a syrup texture.
We like to serve the pears on a buckwheat waffle and a wee bit of vanilla ice cream. Pour the wine-syrup on top and add a small garnish of fresh mint leaves.
Follow with a wee dram of Edradour (where they "take it back to the old school" as we say) or a snifter of Cardenal Mendoza, (established 1781), and contemplate your next musical project.
Speaking of next projects, my next project will be to finalize in paper form the "10 Steps to Baroque Ornamentation" that I showed you on your last visit to Salmon Central. After the paper form is settled, the next step will be to make a video recording of the musical examples. Looks as if I'll be in for some dedicated practice on the "Gavotte de Corelli" by Monsiuer Blavet. [And how did that little gem not make its way onto your Blavet recording?]
Until the next time,
I remain,
y.m.h.& o.s.,
quantzalcoatl
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