Welcome to the Weston's Lessons Blog!

For starters: thanks so much for visiting my website-- it really means a lot!

For this post, I thought it'd be cool for me to share one of 12 Concert Journal Entries I wrote for a Music Theory/Skills 2 class under the direction of Professor Ellen Weller-- in fact, she returned the following Concert Journal to me with a note essentially saying it was one of her favorites from me.

Before I get to that, though, check out the following photo-- it has nothing whatsoever to do with the Concert Journal topic, but it came with the template for this post & I thought it was pretty cool/relaxing 😎👌

So, without further adieu...(drumroll please)...

I present to you...(ok, that's probably enough suspense & drumrolling-- maybe it's time to just get on with it already)...

Ok, alright!

As Mr. David Tennant as Doctor Who often said: "Allonsy!"

Weston Scrivner

5/5/17

Music Theory 2

Concert Journal #3/12

Opera: Exposed (to the public after 3 years in the making)!

I begin with a contemplation based on a rather excellent performance of Mr. Wolfgang Mozart’s “Parto, ma tu ben mio”, featuring the mezzo-soprano Ms. Mary Saffell in the role of Sesto from “La Clemenza di Tito”. As my ears prepared themselves to be astounded by the glory of music yet again, I took note of how a certain member of the performing group took the time to explain how--even though it is common practice these days to seek mezzo-soprano voices to take on the role of Sesto--it was common practice, at the time this piece was composed, to seek out castrati voices to perform the part. For a short moment, I started to think about what all ideological differences there might be--concerning the concept of castrati--between the culture in which I exist and the culture in which Mr. Mozart existed. However, the tracks of my train of thought soon changed course when the music erupted forth from the stage. Though I do not fancy drama in the sense of discord between people who would normally get along quite famously and peacefully, I do confess that I love drama in the sense of taking everyday conversations and converting them into music. I suppose an early root for this fascination of mine would have been from watching multiple versions of “The Music Man”-- in which there’s a part where the main character Mr. Harold Hill aids four men (city council members, if I remember correctly) in quickly converting talk about ice cream into a fabulous barbershop quartet harmony. I suspect an even earlier root of this fascination of mine grew from sessions of listening to the Classical Kids’ audio-story entitled “Vivaldi’s Ring of Mystery”-- in which there’s a certain part wherein Mr. Vivaldi helps two of the students in his school for girls convert a row they were having into a musical form. In addition to all this, I was intrigued by how Mr. Mozart seemed to utilize the piano as an illustrator of the overall plot of the story in much the same way that certain lyricists for church hymns have sometimes collaborated with composers to ensure their ideas were conveyed in a fitting musical manner. So, I suppose one point I can take away from all this contemplation is this: to get inspiration for musical compositions, all I may ultimately need to do is carefully observe my surroundings and then the poetry with the musical illustration should--God-permitting--follow quite naturally.

I continue with some--I hope--eagle-like thoughts taking flight from a magnificent rendition of Mr. Giachino Rossini’s “All’ idea di quell metallo”, featuring the tenor Mr. Shahen Ohanian and the baritone Mr. Joshua Lee as the characters Count Almaviva and Figaro from “The Barber of Seville”. Gazing casually at the program before this piece began to be performed, I happened to notice that Mr. Joshua Lee would be performing--which was, to me, significant because I was impressed by the powerful vocal range of this baritone from a piece he had performed a little earlier that very day. That having been said, I was also soon going to be amazed by the vocal abilities of the tenor Mr. Ohanian-- specifically, his boldness in singing. For, the more opportunities I get to witness brilliant musicians perform, I am increasingly noticing that such performers do not let the legitimate fears of failure or disappointing good people commandeer their lives to oblivion and therefore hinder them from at least trying to do well in their field of expertise. Occasional passivity with regard to such fears over the years, I regret to say, has sometimes led me to periods of intense psychological (spiritual-intellect) paralysis-- the rotten fruits of which have usually been great indecision and inefficient procrastination. Only recently have I begun to cautiously suspect that my concern for trying to find a single ‘right’ way to live before God and all creation--for instance: the ‘right’ educational decisions, the ‘right’ financial situation, the ‘right’ career path--is a well-intentioned ideological mistake; that perhaps my level of concern is too high for me to reach--even with all the greatest transcendental aid from the ineffable God in whom I believe; that perhaps there is a better standard of human perfection than the personal excellence--if it can even be called by that title--I often anxiously fantasize about attaining. However, this is but one strain of a whole choir of voices within my consciousness presenting a variety of rationale for governing my life in a multitude of ways through the avenues of thought, actions, and speech. Then again, my mind begs me to consider again my use of the term ‘passivity’ a few sentences ago.

My conviction for much of my life on this issue, come to think of it, has been that I would come to utter ruin if I were to try finding a psychological salvation of sorts through deciding to crown Fear as lord of my life. To be able to find a comforting or sanctifying force within worry for the sake of Worry seems just about as rational as the veracity of the arithmetical proposition that ‘2 + 2 = 5’ or the accuracy of the verbal proposition that there could exist a ‘married bachelor’. Or, again, to think one can find peace through Anxiety-as-an-end-in-and-of-itself is just about as illegal, erroneous, and farcical as it would be to fancifully re-label as “quod erat demonstrandum” or “quod erat faciendum” the propositions classified by Mr. Euclid as “reductio ad absurdum” within the context of his system of geometrical logic. So, if there is no good to be gained from chasing fears with a sense of optimism about the affair (as if fears were beautiful butterflies in a beautiful field), and if it is not helpful to be neutral to fears (as if they were un-impacting forces with regard to one’s life as it could perhaps be to have knowledge of whether so-and-so in the land of Hollywood celebrities has gone bald or has somehow grown more hair than they had before), then perhaps there is something to be said again about there being good in pursuing the courageous trait of confidence (as long as this confidence--whatever it means in its totality--is not just another unfortunately offensive case of having a vain disposition that values oneself more than the Incredibly Ineffable beyond being and all fellows in being). As a musician and a human being: what with all the various organs of my body, the various directions taken by my emotions, the various internal voices suggesting a plethora of ‘what could go wrong’ scenarios and attempted solutions to present ways of living and performing well (in part taking root from my experiences as a chess player), and so much more, I am what St. Thomas Aquinas would call ‘compound’ or what I would immediately call ‘complex’. What do I take away from all this reflection?

Though I always have something more to do to get better at living well and performing well, something within me is begging me--in spite of my hesitance to heed its call--to take some solace in that I am at least doing some things right, well, and good. There is the part within the Hebrew holy scriptures where Adam and Eve make the choice--the ‘original sin’, as certain Christian theologians might express it--which soon gets them expelled from Paradise. Much doctrinal emphasis, I am willing to concede, has rightly taken place through meditating on this chapter within Hebrew sacred literature: there is a place for feeling guilty from falling short of living out noble ideals and there is a place for refusing to be satisfied with such a status quo. But what would be the point of repentance without some better manner of living to turn to?

I suspect I would be a better man by making a habit of remembering that part of the Hebrew holy scriptures where God made all things good: that part wherein humanity was innocent, that time of ‘original righteousness’. Perhaps I would benefit by recalling that after every painfully disappointing Fall away from God by sins of insecurity rooted in the imperfections of my self, there are ample happily edifying opportunities to Rise toward God by righteous acts of faith grounded in the very perfections of God’s self. After every irritating musical mistake I unintentionally make, I wonder if ‘the show [of my endeavors] must go on’ precisely because it is through the courageous confidence of perseverance that any measure of success is to be obtained. As of today, I resolve to put to test my hypothesis: just as the Holy of Holies partition of Jewish tabernacles and temples could not be casually entered due to the enormity of its sacred significance, so also human excellence is like a gloriously beautiful mansion with breath-taking views--but failure is the security system through which humans must pass with fortitude to gain entrance to that most brilliant of Divinely-crafted domains.

By way of a concluding note: for several days this semester, I have made it a point to take a moment or two to stop in my tracks walking to classes from the Sprinter station, and it is always in the same place. Prior to the beginning of the main path leading up to the Howard Brubeck theatre and adjacent to the Campus Police buildings, there is erected a monument about 6 feet tall-- approximately 4 feet for the concrete base and another 2 feet for the message engraved into a metal cast. It says something to the extent that “through rigor and virtue, through failure and perseverance, we begin to learn”-- and I, if I might so bold as to be humbly candid, am quite fond of it.

P.S. The picture above also has nothing whatsoever to do with the content of this post 😂, unless we factor in that the picture at the beginning was also about nature & civilization.

P.P.S. Then again...it actually probably does have something to do with this post(!). You see, in the summer of 2017, my younger brother Josh & I had been training with Californian friends for a backpacking trek on the Collegiate Loop Trail-- which is in Colorado. We were gonna do the John Muir Trail that year (we're instead doing that this year), but the snow was kinda still around and also kinda melting-- which makes for dangerous hiking conditions. So, we did our training & logistics for the big backpacking trip. After 2 + 1/2 days of driving through beautiful scenery & having many an intellectually-stimulating conversation, we finally made it to the Collegiate Loop Trailhead in Colorado. Now, the whole way up, my younger brother was unfortunately not feeling well at all-- I had hoped for a bit that he'd show signs of quick recovery, but I internally got more nervous for him as time crept on by. After speaking with the trek leader (btw: Mrs. Rascon is one of the strongest women I know--emotionally, spiritually, and physically) for a bit the first day of trekking, he & I ended up needing to separate from the rest of the group & hike back to the trailhead. Because our group thankfully had 2 recently bought walkie-talkies that worked decently enough for a few days (a kind trail angel came by to drive Josh & I to a place where we could get some lunch-- which was where the photo just above was taken), & because Josh & I had some phone service to call our parents in California, things worked out way better than Josh & I had been hoping. We ended up being blessed to stay & rest up with my Dad's cousin's family (aka the Javellana's) for the next few days-- and this was awesome because Josh & I had barely known them before. Aside from Josh & I learning we meshed quite well with their personalities, we learned that they are genuinely fantastic people. 3 days later, though: Josh (recovered) & I (starting to really, really like staying with the Javellana family) headed back to the trailhead. Unbeknownst to Josh & I, the rest of the backpacking group experienced some of their toughest days while we were absent-- but the moment Josh & I showed up, their countenances lifted; and from the moment Mr. Allen & Mrs. Mollie offered to put unnecessary weight in the trunk of their truck, they became legendary names to our backpacking group 😂👌 Remember that quote-- "through rigor and virtue, through failure and perseverance, we begin to learn"? Now, I don't think any of the times we backpackers felt ill on the trek is equivalent to failure (for: sooner or later, we all had our tough times in different ways)-- yes, it's tough on everyone; yes, sometimes someone ill or feeling blue gets to feeling guilty; and yes, in an 'ideal' cosmos we'd either recover quicker or not need to recover at all: but it's still not failure. What does count, though, is virtuously persevering even when it seems like everything is senselessly falling apart around us. Especially if we believe everything was created by Perfection, & then (by definition) you operate with a belief that every single thing good or less-than-good which is ultimately derived from Perfection is also im(not)-Perfect-- then here's what I'd say to us: it matters not so much whether a thing is im-Perfect, but what does matter more is whether a thing strives to live life in-Perfect (or, 'in tune' with Perfection). Now, even though there is so much more cool stuff to say about this subject & so many others under the sun, I think I've probably shared enough for this post. So, what do you say we go ahead and put this theory into practice within our daily lives? 😉

Yours sincerely 😇,

-- Weston