Incomprehensible….

Posted on April 12, 2025 by ksedinger

I’m not sure why, but I find it comforting sometimes to think about the vastness of the universe and our own general insignificance when one thinks about that very vastness. And here’s the thing: you don’t even have to think about gigantic voids in space so huge that it takes light millions of years to cross it. We like to think that our own Earth is small, “it’s a small world after all”, and that our home in the universe is tiny. Which, I suppose, it is.

But compared to us? This world is still pretty gigantic and contains places that make us look individually like the tiniest of fleas on the largest mammal.

Consider a place called Point Nemo. This has been a particular fascination of mine of late (I even linked a piece about it last fall). It’s a spot in the southern Pacific that is the single point on Earth where you are farthest from any land mass at all.

Such places are called “poles of inaccessibility”. There are such poles on land as well–spots where you are farthest from any ocean, for example–but Point Nemo is the planet’s Oceanic Pole of Inaccessibility. Point Nemo’s three nearest land masses–each islands in either the Pacific or off the coast of Antartica–all lie about 1,670 miles away. And not only is Point Nemo that far from human habitation (though at times there are humans within a few hundred miles of Point Nemo, whenever the International Space Station’s orbit takes it over the area), but Point Nemo is pretty much that far from life at all. Because of its distance from land and the ocean currents that surround it, the water there–all 13,000 feet deep of it–has virtually no nutrient content, and thus there is almost nothing living beneath the surface.

Because of that depth and the remote location, the region surrounding Point Nemo is generally the target area for satellites and spacecraft that have been abandoned and allowed to crash back to the planet.

I don’t know if it’s the times we’re living in, but where the idea of being stranded in a place like Point Nemo is genuinely terrifying, I also find it strangely comforting to remember that human concerns are still very small in comparison not just to the entire universe, but to this little planet of ours.

Here’s a video about an expedition to Point Nemo. Why go to such a place? I suppose for the same basic reason one climbs a mountain: because it’s there.

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Something for Thursday

Posted on April 10, 2025 by ksedinger

Sticking with the theme for this month (which I’ve only just now decided was a theme for this month), here in National Poetry Month, I’ll continue exploring the intersection of music and poetry. Back when I was a serious music student, I sometimes thought about setting favorite poems to music, including what is likely my favorite poem of all time, “Annabel Lee” by Edgar Allan Poe. This complex and meaning-laden poem has thrilled me ever since I first read it, likely in 11th grade:

It was many and many a year ago,
   In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
   By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
   Than to love and be loved by me.
 
I was a child and she was a child,
   In this kingdom by the sea,
But we loved with a love that was more than love—
   I and my Annabel Lee—
With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven
   Coveted her and me.
 
And this was the reason that, long ago,
   In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
   My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsmen came
   And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
   In this kingdom by the sea.
 
The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,
   Went envying her and me—
Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,
   In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
   Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
 
But our love it was stronger by far than the love
   Of those who were older than we—
   Of many far wiser than we—
And neither the angels in Heaven above
   Nor the demons down under the sea
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
 
For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams
   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes
   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
   Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,
   In her sepulchre there by the sea—
   In her tomb by the sounding sea.

So when I went searching for settings of “Annabel Lee”, one of the first ones I discovered was…a bluegrass setting.

And it works. Listen for yourself!

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Tuesday Tones

Posted on April 8, 2025 by ksedinger

In keeping with National Poetry Month, here is one of my favorite poems: “The Splendour Falls” by Alfred Lord Tennyson, who also happens to be my favorite poet.

The splendor falls on castle walls
   And snowy summits old in story;
The long light shakes across the lakes,
   And the wild cataract leaps in glory.
Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,
Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.

O, hark, O, hear! how thin and clear,
   And thinner, clearer, farther going!
O, sweet and far from cliff and scar
   The horns of Elfland faintly blowing!
Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying,
Blow, bugles; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.

O love, they die in yon rich sky,
   They faint on hill or field or river;
Our echoes roll from soul to soul,
   And grow forever and forever.
Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,
And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying.

I don’t remember not loving that poem. And here it is, set for chorus by Frederick Delius. I love the way the setting captures the repeated “dying, dying, dying….” with falling chords and delayed resolution.

 

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Unlimited Grocery Phone Tobacco Clothes

Posted on April 7, 2025 by ksedinger
Intriguing storefront, Buffalo, NY
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A few notes….

Posted on April 6, 2025 by ksedinger

Here are some Notes from some recent goings-on in my world!

Note the First: We are in the midst of a typically awful WNY spring. Longtime readers or followers on social media will know that spring is my least favorite season by a large margin, because in this region spring is mostly a two-month slog of cold and dreary damp weather, and this year is no exception. I can’t even get out to do any real photography because the weather has been typically ghastly, and poor Miranda, my Lumix camera, has no weather sealing. Climate change hasn’t yet done anything to improve springtime in Buffalo Niagara.

Note the Second: The weather forecast for yesterday was an all-day soaking rain that might cause flooding, so for that reason I did not go downtown to the big protest. I hope to make the next one. And I’m sure there will be one, I mean, just look at what these nitwits in charge are doing!

Note the Third: Still kvetching about weather: I’m tired of having to dress like this.

Note the Fourth: I saw a gorgeous photo on social media someplace that someone labeled “One of the best views in baseball”: it’s a shot from the upper deck at PNC Park in Pittsburgh, behind home plate. If you’re familiar, they really nailed the aesthetics of that ballpark when they build it. Not only is the park itself supposed to be very nice (I haven’t actually been there), but the view takes in the entire skyline of downtown Pittsburgh. Sadly, with the Pirates themselves off to their typical start, I left the comment: “That is definitely one of the best views IN baseball, but it remains a shame that it is also one of the worst views OF baseball.”

Note the Fifth: The NFL Draft is coming up. I always find the build-up and learning about the players fun. No real point here, just that.

Note the Sixth: One of my worst habits is my refusal to buy things like socks, shoes, and underwear until at least 90 days after I first think, “Huh, maybe I should replace this.” I have already addressed two of those, and I’m planning a shoe purchase…soon. Ish.

Note the Seventh: In the most bizarre social media kerfuffle I’ve experienced of late, a whole lot of people got mad at me on Threads because I pointed out that the movie Double Jeopardy, the potboiler from 1999 or so with Ashley Judd and Tommy Lee Jones, gets the central legal concept behind its title very, very, oh so very wrong. I found this really surprising. People weren’t just wrong, they were confidently and belligerently wrong. (And yes, I looked up my position and provided receipts, like this.

Note the Eighth: And last note! I added to the overalls collection. I hope this embeds, but here’s a video I made; they’re white Hisea overalls (that’s a new brand I don’t know much about), and I got them because I like the styling of the bib pocket. Most white pairs have a “painters” overalls vibe, with a triangular pocket that I don’t much care for. I like this a lot. Carla got mud on them already, though. Just around the cuffs, but sheesh! (Maybe I’ll just start reviewing overalls. That would give me content for…quite a while.)

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Something for Thursday

Posted on April 3, 2025 by ksedinger

A tie-in to National Poetry Month today: Loreena McKennitt’s wonderful, evocative setting of one of my favorite poems by one of my favorite poets. Here is The Lady of Shallott. Words by Alfred Lord Tennyson.

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National Poetry Month, 1

Posted on April 1, 2025 by ksedinger

April is National Poetry Month. I can’t promise I’ll share a poem every day, but I’ll give it a shot. First up is a short poem that packs quite a punch the more you mull it over:

The Lover in Winter Plaineth for the Spring

Western wind, when will thou blow
The small rain down can rain?
Christ, if my love were in my arms,
And I in my bed again!

 

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Happy birthday, Sergei Rachmaninoff

Posted on April 1, 2025 by ksedinger

Born this date. I remain as fascinated by and indebted to his music as I was when I first heard it way back when. I have written a great deal about Rachmaninoff here and elsewhere, including a big burst for his sesquicentennial two years ago. You can find a lot of that categorized here. Sometime soon I really need to write that big, epic essay about his Second Symphony.

Here is the Israel Brass Quintet playing one of his most famous works, Vocalise.

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Tuesday Tones

Posted on April 1, 2025 by ksedinger

I don’t know if this composer has ever been featured on this blog at all, either in this incarnation or in the Byzantium’s Shores era. So I’ve just done a search, and it turns out that not only have I not featured his music at all, but I’ve only even mentioned him twice.

So: enter Bohuslav Martinů.

Who?

Martinů was a Czech composer of the Modern era who lived 1890 to 1959. And he wrote a lot of music. Music poured out of the guy. Over a dozen operas and ballets each. Six symphonies. A ton of standalone orchestral music. Concertos. Chamber music. Keyboard music. Vocal music. About the only major genre of music that Martinů seems to have not made any contribution is sacred music.

And of all that music, I have heard just a tiny number of works. In fact, that number might now, with this post, stand at 2. I know I’ve heard his oratorio based on the Epic of Gilgamesh, and now I’ve heard The Parables, a suite for large orchestra. Martinů wrote The Parables late in his life. The work is in three movements:

  1. The Parable of a Sculpture (Andante pastorale)
  2. The Parable of a Garden (Poco moderato)
  3. The Parable of the Labyrinth (Poco allegro)

I have not been able to find a great deal of program information about The Parables, which I suppose is at least partly a function of the composer’s relative obscurity. Martinů may be experiencing an era of reassessment now, though, so maybe more will be forthcoming. I did find this brief passage:

The Frescoes of Piero della Francesca, H 352, and The Parables, H 367, represent the culmination of the late Neo-Impressionist orchestral output of Bohuslav Martinů, marked by a fantastic, kaleidoscopic style. Martinů transforms his extramusical (visual, literary) inspirations into the principles of musical forms, which are open to associations from mood setting to philosophical inquiries into the essence of human existence.

…

Martinů wrote the first two movements of The Parables in July 1957; he returned to the work after a break in early 1958 (completing the final, third movement on 8 February). The Parables were premiered in Boston on 13 February 1959 by Charles Munch and the Boston Symphony Orchestra. The mottos of the first two movements of The Parables reference The Wisdom of the Sands (Citadelle) by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. For the third movement, Martinů created a motto from loosely associated excerpts from Georges Neveux’s play The Voyage of Theseus, which later provided the subject matter for the opera Ariadne, H 370 (1958). Although the music of The Parables relates to the mottos only abstractly or, in the case of the third movement, perhaps somewhat accidentally, these texts are nevertheless an integral part of The Parables.

That is helpful. I found Martinů’s musical language dreamy and evocative, lyrical at times and forcefully depictive in others. He seems to be writing in a vein that’s a blend of late Romanticism, Impressionism, and Modernism, which is a heady mix to be sure.

Here is The Parables by Bohuslav Martinů.

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Everything depends on a ceramic bunny

Posted on March 31, 2025 by ksedinger

When I was very young, my mother gave me a ceramic bunny. It looked just like this one. In my memory, it looked exactly like this one…only for some reason I really think the one I had was a bit bigger. Not much, but a bit. I may be wrong about that. I haven’t seen that bunny in years. I suppose it might still be hanging around in some box or the back of a drawer someplace, nestled safely enough to be forgotten over however many years and however many moves, but more likely that poor bunny just got lost at some point along the way.

Like I said, that’s not the bunny my mother gave me. I know this because anyone who has ever gifted a three- or four-year-old with something ceramic knows what inevitably happens to such things: I dropped the bunny one day, and he broke. I don’t remember dropping it, and I don’t remember being upset, but I know that I would have been heartbroken by this development. I know this not just because I know how I am and how I get upset to this day when I break things that are meaningful. I also know this because Mom fixed the bunny.

She did the best she could. I don’t know if she didn’t really know how to use superglue, or even what such glue options would have been available to her in the early 1970s when this would have happened, which might be why she didn’t glue it. She taped him back together with masking tape. And honestly? She did a fine job, and that tape held. For years. And years. And years. The joints were tight and my bunny was solid, even when he shouldn’t have been.

After Mom died, I found myself missing my little brown ceramic bunny. Surely there was no chance of ever finding an actual replacement for something that she had to have bought cheaply nearly 50 years ago…but I went searching nonetheless. I did the best I could: I searched eBay for “brown ceramic rabbit”.

I found him almost immediately…and I found a few friends for him.

It was not a hard choice to make. There were a number of sets of these bunnies available at the time (this was a little over a year ago), and it turned out that they were made by a company called Goebel, a German outfit that makes porcelain figurines and which also owns Hummel, a more famous figurine maker. I chose one set of three and bought it. A week or two later, I had my bunny again…along with two friends.

The three bunnies all sit now atop my desk just in front of the Four Musketeers. This seems fitting, in some small and odd way.

I never asked Mom if she remembered the little brown ceramic bunny or her fixing him with masking tape. Add that to the list of conversations that went unspoken, I suppose.

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