They also serve, 9/25

Dangerous for young minds? Andy Webster on “Fame” in the NYT:

“Fame” is rated PG (Parental guidance suggested). It has skeptical, repressive parents.

The mechanics of emotion

It’s possible she was there from the beginning, or maybe she came over later, either way I had the feeling from the start that she was there because of me, and this apparent oversight or lapse of memory is but further proof that the mechanics of emotion, about which we are so curious in this novel, are obscured by the very emotions operating in us, so that we can never say anything meaningful about it; it’s almost as if every occurrence were obstructed by our own sharply focused attention; consequently, in retrospect, we recall not what happened but the way we observed what happened, what emotional response we had to the event, which itself becomes hazy and fragmentary under our observation; we do not perceive the happening as a happening, a change as a change, a turning point as a turning point, even though we expect life to keep producing changes and dramatic reversals, for in each change and reversal, however tragic, we expect redemption itself, the uplifting sensation of “This is what I’ve been waiting for,” yet just as attention obstructs the event, change is obstructed by anticipation, and thus the really momentous changes in our lives occur unnoticed, in the most complete silence, and we become suspicious only when a new state of affairs has already got the better of us, making impossible any return to the disdained, abhorred, but ever so secure and familiar past.

– Peter Nadas, A Book of Memories, trans. Ivan Sanders

They also serve

(who only stand and rate) — A striking image from today’s New York Times, reviewed by Daniel M. Gold:

“Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs” is rated PG (parental guidance suggested), presumably for its spaghetti twister and feral Gummi bears.

New York all-day shapenote singing 2009

As all my friends are far too aware, the New York City All-Day Singing for 2009 is this coming weekend — the All-Day itself is bracketed by a singing school on Friday night and the Manhattan Third Sunday singing on Sunday afternoon. We should have nearly every regular singer in New York, most of the irregulars, and dozens of visitors (I hear there’ll be someone from Australia). (This being modern urban Sacred Harp, a few singers will have Rosh Hashanah obligations. Personally, I’m just going to give Gospel Trumpet an OT aspect and think of it as the shofar; tricky, with all that stuff about riding a flood of redeeming blood, but we can try.) 150 people? Two hundred? The meetinghouse, accustomed to quiet Quakers, will be trembling.

And feeding them all is my responsibility! But everyone’s pitching in, of course. The logistics will be the hardest part: getting everything where it should be, having spoons to dish it out with, forks to fork it up with, coffee to wash it down with — stuff like that. (Click that link right above if you are thinking of bringing an offering.)

So to recap, that’s:

Wachet auf!

It turns out that if you put the coffee water on to boil, and then crawl back into bed, your smoke alarm turns into a convenient second alarm clock.

First look: Milkmaid at the Met

The Big Tomb’s bow to the celebrations of Henry Hudson’s arrival in New York Bay 400 years ago focuses, as its Hudson-Fulton Celebration a hundred years ago did in part, on the Dutch connection. In 1909 we put on a big show of Dutch art, but since we did that two years ago (hanging all 228 Dutch paintings in the collection), instead the museum has persuaded the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam (sorry, the link opens with sound) to lend us one of its greatest treasures, and Walter Liedtke has surrounded her with a small, detailed, spaciously installed exhibition, including five of the Met’s own Vermeers, contemporary paintings, and related drawings and prints. I took a quick look this evening — the show opens to the public on Thursday — and the titular picture, modest in size, has the radiant earthliness that must be the thing — now I think about it — that exalts Vermeer for us above his brilliant contemporaries like ter Hooch and Dou. There was also a drawing from a private collection that I loved; I had better go back and take notes, and see the remaining two-thirds of the show as well. More later; meanwhile, the show is up from Sept. 10 to Nov. 29.

Speaking of Dou, when I went up to Boston to see the Titian, Tintoretto, Veronese exhibition at the MFA (totally worth four hours each way on the bus, by the way, but it closed in mid-August), I was riveted, in other galleries, by this:

Gerrit Dou’s Sleeping dog beside a terracotta jug, in the collection of Rose-Marie and Eijk van Otterloo. It’s not much bigger than it appears on my little laptop screen, and while I’m not saying I’d take it in trade for Tintoretto’s several-hundred-times-larger Deposition (which also staggered me on that visit) or Titian’s entranced Danae, it somehow manages to compact its power the way a nuclear bomb concentrates the explosive force of tons of TNT. Walter knew exactly what painting I was talking about when I mentioned “that little dog by Dou, however you pronounce him.”

NYCADS 09 Food tally — Updated Weds Sept 16

This post is going to be of rather specialized interest. If you are thinking of bringing food for the New York City All-Day Singing at the Fifteenth Street Meeting House on September 19, take a look and see what has already been offered. You can post a comment or email me (address on About page) to ask a question or make an offering. Also, let me know if you will be willing to help set up (means arriving before 10) or to clean up. Thanks in advance to everyone for what is already looking like a great outpouring. Right now, it looks like we could use more salads, sides, and sweets — many of the early responders have offered hefty entrees. But whatever you want to bring will be gratefully received and eagerly devoured.

For inspiration, a couple of food blogs that have great recipes for potlucks are Smitten Kitchen and 101 Cookbooks (she’s got a lot of veggie recipes).

A few things to bear in mind: The closer your dish is to ready to go when it arrives (in a suitable dish for serving, with utensils), the easier it will be for everyone. There are several good-sized lunchrooms downstairs or we can sit out on the flagged court in front of the meetinghouse, but NO FOOD OR DRINK may be brought into the sanctuary (this includes water). We will have access to the oven if you need it, but fridge space is limited, so no butter sculptures, please. The list follows.

New look, new year

I’m actually a few days late but we can call this the Haruspex’s anniversary, since I launched it on Labor Day last year. Whaddaya think of the new look? A lot like the old look, right? But a little different. (Who in god’s name uses those futzy WordPress themes with hipster gals or flowers?) New Red Hook silhouette header borrowed from Flickr user Krzysztof Poluchowicz (Krzysztof, if you object, I will take it down right away).

I’ve moved Coming Attractions to the sidebar; important as it is, having it as a permanent top entry made the blog seem even more static than it was. I mean, I really had made updates since September 18 of last year.

While the Haruspex lay in a coma, people kept stopping by its hospital bed, most of them apparently looking for Hans Hoffmann’s wild boar piglet. Who knew this would be a big draw? It was a wonderful drawING, though. (Sorry.)

So, I’m back, I think, determined not to get bogged down. For example, I really wanted to tell you more about the Baroque operas last year, and I got stuck. We shall see what we shall see.

Vacation, all I ever wanted

Yeah, dopey headline. I’m leaving this morning for a week at music camp (Amherst Early Music Festival, come to a concert if you are in the neighborhood of New London, Ct). When I get back the Haruspex is getting a fresh new look so as to be ready for its anniversary.

Two music warnings for fall:

NEW YORK CITY ALL-DAY SINGING, Saturday, September 19, at the Fifteenth Street Meetinghouse on Rutherford Place in Manhattan. Sacred Harp all day. Singing school the night before at St. Paul’s Church in Carroll Gardens.

BLUE HERON in New York. The superb Renaissance chorus from Boston brings a program of rare English music. Sunday, October 18, 4 p.m. at St. Ignatius of Antioch. Skip something else if you have to and buy a ticket, seriously, they are that good.

YFoSB

Spent a little time with the Young Farmers of South Brooklyn at the Greenhorns’ Goat Spit benefit this afternoon. Okay, they’re not officially the YFs of SB, but the healthy cheer, the gingham, the flowers in the hair of a lot of people between 22 and 33, the rooftop tomatoes, the campaign to legalize beekeeping in NY (I’m all for it, I signed the petition), the bike-powered blender, the grill full of goat, the Six Point beer in mason jars, even hay bales on the sidewalk — and all just three blocks east of me and the chicken slaughterhouse. The mysterious Vermont Pharmacy that’s stood tempting but empty for ten years at least was opened at last, a romantic tin-ceilinged location. (A sign said we might be filmed for a documentary, but I saw no cameras.) The sidewalk shed wrapped around the corner provided a useful rain shield for the flyers, petitions, and button-&-sticker sales. I loved the truck farm — a pickup truck with a planting bed in its bed, tomatoes staked against the window, herbs, broccoli, and I don’t know what all in neat rows (and a toy cow for scale confusion). I happened to be there at one of the rainless half-hours of the afternoon, coming home from the library with Howard Sturgis, Graham Greene, and Colette in my bag.

It was really kind of adorable, though I felt awfully middle-aged. If I find any good pictures, I’ll stick them in here.