Never Forgotten

Below are the names of soldiers from the Western New York region who will forevermore be among those we honor on Memorial Day. I never knew any of them; I can only thank them and honor them in some small way here.

Army Green Beret Sgt. 1st Class Peter P. Tycz II, 32, Tonawanda

Marine Lance Cpl. Eric Orlowski, 26, Depew

Marine Lance Cpl. Tomorio D. Burkett, 21, Buffalo

Army Pvt. David Evans Jr., 18, Buffalo

Army National Guard Sgt. Heath A. McMillin, 29, Canandaigua

Army National Guard Spc. Michael Williams, 46, Buffalo

Army Spc. Charles E. “Chuck” Bush Jr., 34, Buffalo

Staff Sgt. Shawn M. Clemens, 28, Allegany

Army Sgt. David M. McKeever, 25, Buffalo

Marine Cpl. Jason L. Dunham, 22, Scio

Army Sgt. Philip L. Witkowski, 24, Fredonia

(names via The Buffalo News)

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IMAGE OF THE WEEK





Carpets spread on the floor of an Iraqi mosque.

I actually found this picture in the back of the current issue of National Geographic when I read it at the library last week; NI now has a feature called “Final Edit” in which they print a photograph not used in the article for which it was intended, but which is too striking to simply be left in some file archive on the off chance that someone might appreciate it later. As the NI editors note, this is a perspective of a place of worship almost never seen in the West.

(By the way, the Image of the Week will now appear on Sundays.)

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Oh my God, I may be on the right track after all….

Lynn Sislo links a Ray Bradbury piece about censorship — not government-sponsored censorship, but the more insidious kind of censorship that arises from the closing of the mind and the increasingly paralyzing fear of taking (and giving) offense. It’s an excellent article (it’s by Bradbury, duh!), but what caught me eye was this graf, toward the end:

For, let’s face it, digression is the soul of wit. Take the philosophic asides away from Dante, Milton or Hamlet’s father’s ghost and what stays is dry bones. Laurence Sterne said it once: Digressions, incontestably, are the sunshine, the life, the soul of reading! Take them out and one cold eternal winter would reign in every page. Restore them to the writer – he steps forth like a bridegroom, bids them all-hail, brings in variety and forbids the appetite to fail.


Whoa! Do you know what this means? I am the very model of a writer who digresses. I digress constantly. I could almost say that I’ve structured my life around the entire idea of digression.

Which reminds me of something else…but I digress.

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A Very Public Service Announcement

OK, folks. When picking a movie to watch, you really need to take stock of a few things. Don’t pick a movie that will remind you of the problems you’re trying to escape for two hours.

For instance, suppose you’re a high school senior on the cusp of graduation and you’ve just been uncermoniously dumped by a girl and you just want a movie to take your mind off that particular package of angst. That being the case, do not watch Say Anything.

Likewise, if you find that in your current job you nearly always work by yourself, and you nearly always end up eating lunch alone, and well over ninety percent of your conversations with other people at work consist of nothing more than them asking you to do stuff, and your work schedule is reversed from your spouse’s such that you barely see that person five days a week, do not — please oh please — pass a Saturday night after putting the kid to bed by watching The Bridges of Madison County.

I only have your sanity and emotional well-being at heart, Gentle Readers.

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Exploring the CD Collection

Here’s something I’ve been meaning to do for a while: just a sporadic series of posts in which I give a few brief thoughts about some CD or other in my collection*. Today’s disc is James Horner’s score to Braveheart.

James Horner is a very problematic figure in film music circles, because he has a very long history of relying on a limited set of musical ideas and stylistic quirks over and over again, in score after score after score. (I wrote at length about “the Horner problem” here.) That old saw about Antonio Vivaldi, that he wrote the same concerto five hundred times, can with some validity be reworked to James Horner. Horner is, very basically, a very talented composer who takes almost no risks in his scores, which is highly frustrating to film music fans who want him to live up to his potential and less so to fans who are perfectly happy to have him exercise his unquestionable strengths (melody and the shaping of longer score cues to fit a scene).

So, what to say about Horner’s Braveheart music? Well, of all of Horner’s scores, this is the one to which I return the most often. It is more mature and more meditative than the Horner scores that are more commonly beloved by filmscore fans (Star Trek II, Willow). This score springs from what was probably Horner’s highest point of creativity, when in the course of about a year he produced three remarkable scores — Legends of the Fall, Braveheart, and Apollo 13. (His greatest commercial success, the score to Titanic, was to come two years later. Even though I was not enamored of the Titanic music, I didn’t begrudge Horner the Oscar he won for it because of the work he did in 1994 and 1995 on those three earlier films.)

In Braveheart, Horner makes some rather odd instrumental decisions. He uses the Japanese shakuhachi flute mostly for atmospheric effect in certain scenes (when Wallace leads the attack on the English lord who has killed his wife, for example), even though the Japanese flute wouldn’t seem to have a single thing to do with the film’s Scottish setting; ditto his use of a South American kena flute and Uilleann pipes in the score as opposed to traditional Scottish bagpipes. And the “Horner Bag of Tricks” pops up again and again, right down to my very favorite Hornerism, what I call the “James Horner Rolling Chord of Melodic Punctuation”, which is given prominent place in the “Sons of Scotland” track (at about the 4:40 mark).

And yet…I still return to this CD, again and again, because of the first ten tracks (which comprise the music up to and including Wallace’s victory at Stirling). In the film, Mel Gibson strove for a very dreamy atmosphere, in which gestures are slowed down, dialogue is spoken at a measured pace, and characters hold one another’s eyes. The emotional core of the film comes early, in those scenes of quiet courtship between Wallace and Murron (Catherine McCormack), when love is expressed by a quick and private smile or a shared glance as they pass each other within a crowd. This is where Horner’s score shines.

The two tracks to listen to here are “Wallace Courts Murron” and “The Secret Wedding”, both of which are long and quiet, and yet, surprisingly complex. The only rhythm in these two tracks is provided by a harp that is so distantly placed one is at first not even certain if it is even there. The melody Horner creates for these two lovers is a very long one indeed, and he varies it slightly each time it is heard — first in the violins, then in the wavering tones of the kena flute (played with thick vibrato) and finally, most memorably, in a long line for solo oboe that is as heartbreaking a passage of music as I have ever heard.

There is very little bombast in this score, with full tutti passages ending fairly quickly when they arrive. Even during the battle scenes, Horner maintains a measured pace with lots of repetition of sonic effects, which is a marked shift from his more common approach to action sequences. (This is no small point. I doubt that even Horner’s staunchest defenders would list restraint amongst his gifts.) The score does lose some energy in its second half, much as the film itself does, but it is regained at the end, in the music for the execution scene and the end credits suite.

James Horner is far from my favorite film composer, but the first ten tracks on this CD constitute some of the finest film music in my collection.

There is a second CD available, More Music from Braveheart, which is just that: additional cues from the film, this time including dialogue extracts (a practice that inflames most film music fans, although I admit that it rarely bothers me that much), and some traditional bagpipe music not from the film. I don’t listen to the supplemental CD all that often at all.

(*This series is intended, obviously, to give me a never-ending wellspring of material, since I acquire at least one new CD per month, and if I stopped new acquisitions right now and did not start up until I posted about every disc in my collection, at the rate of one such post per day it would be over a year-and-a-half, and probably closer to two years, before I started acquiring again. These will not be in-depth reviews of the discs, just a few random thoughts as to why I like or dislike them so much.)

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Great Quotes

I swear I could read Terry Teachout’s About Last Night for the “Almanac” quotes alone. This is a regular feature of Terry’s, wherein he shares brief parcels of wisdom from things he’s read along the way, and they are almost always fascinating — they invariably make me think a bit, and despair a little more at the possibility of ever being able to capture any kind of such insight in so few words.

Anyway, three have caught my eye particularly this week: this by composer Bernard Herrmann, this by Anthony Powell, and this by Phillip Caputo.

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An “OH!” moment

There’s a bit of humor in the movie A Fish Called Wanda that always struck me as pretty funny, although I’ve just discovered that I didn’t even realize what the actual joke was.

In the movie, there’s a brief scene where Wanda (Jamie Lee Curtis) comes out to the car, where Otto is sitting in the driver’s seat, all scrunched-up into something resembling the lotus position. When Wanda asks what he’s doing, he replies that he’s engaged in a form of Buddhist meditation, noting that “the monks used to do it before they went into battle”. I always thought that the joke was the mere incongruity of a bunch of peacefully-meditating Buddhist monks charging into battle.

But then Wanda says, “What kind of Buddhists are these, Otto?” And Otto replies, “It’s an early Tantric form of meditation,” before lurching on to some other topic.

Well, upon reading this Michael Blowhard post, I discover that Tantra is in large part about eroticism and sexuality from the standpoint of Eastern mysticism. So now, I learn that Otto is apparently using a form of Buddhism that is focused on sexual mysticism to focus his agressive energies “before battle”. Now the joke is funnier, with added levels of meaning — in what is a throwaway moment that nobody would ever list among the actual funniest moments of the film.

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Hey! Do we even have a highlight reel anymore?

It appears that this year’s most memorable moment for the Pittsburgh Pirates came last night, when Rob Mackowiak hit a walk-off grand slam in the bottom of the ninth, just hours after his wife gave birth to their first child. Quite a day, that — although I do wonder about the conversation that must have taken place, something along the lines of, “Oh my God, honey, he is so beautiful, and I love you so much, and….damn, I’m gonna be late for batting practice!”

Speaking of baseball stuff, one of the more baseball-knowledgable fellows I knew in college (as well as a hell of a bass player), Mark Cuthbertson, has launched a separate LiveJournal just for his baseball musings, Stat Ninja. Hopefully at some point Mark will explain why he is seemingly a Royals fan, and yet sports the old Minnesota Twins insignia in the sidebar of his main journal. (Mark was always a complex fellow.)

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