esprit de l'escalier

Frank Lloyd Wright in Oak Park

I spent the very warm Sunday wandering Oak Park, searching out beautiful homes (some built by Frank Lloyd Wright, see photo above) with my old adivsor/mentor from work. She's moving to Maryland next week, which is great for her, but sad for me. She's one of my mother figures (I like to adopt mothers and aunts) and I'll miss her presence. It was a little too bright for really great photos, but we had a nice day, even though we were a little overheated by the end.

The photo below is my new favorite house. If my friend's memory serves her correctly, the top floor originally housed a ballroom. My inner twelve year old swoons at the thought of late 19th century balls. How great is it? Even its garage had a huge vaulted roof. And a greenhouse on one side.

Hey, hey it's our birthday!

Today is my brother and my birthday. Of course the chilly, rainy weather dampens my birthday outfit plans, but such is life. I'm taking a half day, lunching with some friends and then possibly hitting the Art Institute. Later my brother, roommate (whose bday is Tuesday) and I are combining our celebration efforts.

People always surprised when they learn I have a twin brother. (My mother also has a twin brother. A fact that astounds.) Sometimes I think people are hurt when they've known me a while but didn't know that. But's it's not something you open up with, "Hello, I'm Claire and I'm a twin." Sounds a little silly. And unless he comes up, or birthdays, it's an odd thing to drop into conversation. But I don't know life without him and probably wouldn't trade it.

Thanks Mom and Dad for raising us well, and getting us to adulthood. Thanks to our sister for dealing with us (although this could be reciporcal to and from all of us), and for reminding Mom this week that today's the day. 10 to 1 she still forgets. :)

No more Frank and beans and photos from China

Little Franklin Pierce finally got neutered. No heart murmur. He's doing fine. He was the last in surgery today and apparently spent much of the morning pacing his cage due to the unrest of the other cats. He's a little wobbly but for the most part is fine. Though he's spent most of the time home in the bathroom sink getting wet. He doesn't feel much like cuddling and I don't think I'll get a purr out of him for a while.

He also weighs a whopping 9 lbs 4.5 oz! Looks like we've got a bruiser on our hands!

In other news, I have FINALLY uploaded all of my China photos! Feast your eyes for the entire set here. I have comments for almost all of the photos, should you want some direction on what the photos are.

View of Pudong from the Bund:

Me at the Yuyuan Bazaar in Shanghai:

Whistling wonders

Friday night I went to see Andrew Bird at the Riviera. I'm not one who normally enjoys going to concerts solo, but I don't like going with whomever's arm I can twist to come either, so there I went. The venue is less than a 10 minute walk from my apartment and I have been kind of obsessed with his new album Armchair Apochypha since I heard "Heretics" on Salon, so I couldn't talk myself out of it.

Previous to this, the allure of Mr. Bird eluded me. Honestly, I didn't pay much attention to him. Though the songs from The Mysterious Production of Eggs were interesting from a sound perspective, he seemed too clever by half. Frankly that opinion doesn't really change. (He seems to put off this slightly too smart persona that I find false and not very interesting. See recent AV Club interview.) Usually I like to know the words to the music I listen to, but his lyrics are a little much for me and I let the words themselves slide over me. It's the sound that I'm interested in.

Idiosyncratic is a word that gets used to describe Bird's music a lot. And it is hard to describe. His music is multi-layered. His collaborator, Martin Dosh, layers and synchopates rhythms that lay the groundwork for many of Bird's new songs. Bird will then loop violin segments, either by bowing the instrument or plucking it, and his voice will soar along with the rest of the sounds. I love it and I think I'm hooked.

The show itself was enjoyable (minus the drunks near me). Bird came out on stage in a suit jacket and a scarf, which made me think of Dr. Who, but the scarf itself was a little ridiculous. (He and Tennant have the same body type: tall, skinny with a mop of hair. A type that weakens my moral fiber. I blame being exposed to Hugh Grant at an impressionable age.) There were two gramaphones that Bird would feed his looping music into and then they would twirl around, further distorting the sound. The songs were great live, and he played mostly new music. He did bring out Nora O'Connor, a longtime contributor, out for the final song.

Anyway, I've learned to give things a second listen and to sometimes ignore some pretensions. Though I still don't love solo concerts.

Last of the Time Lords

(The first season of the regenerated Dr. Who starts tonight on WTTW, one of Chicago's PBS stations. Check your local listings to see if it's coming to you.)

As a child I remember stumbling upon the Doctor occasionally on PBS. (We didn't have cable and I was (and remain) a bit of a couch potato, so I watched a LOT of PBS.) I always watched Dr. Who with fascination, utterly confused. I knew it was the same program but every time I caught it it's appearance had wildly changed.

At first I stayed away from the new series of Dr. Who. I would see commercials for it when I watched Battlestar Galactica, but thought it just looked a little silly. The fact that Christopher Eccleston was playing the 9th Doctor was intriguing, but not enough for me to tune in.

This changed when I was at my parents and I caught an episode of the second season with David Tennant this winter. The episode was "The Girl in the Fireplace" and I was completely hooked. I did what I could to catch myself up on what I was missing. (To be perfectly honest, I am currently harboring a huge crush on Tennant.)

The effects on the show remain slightly silly, as do some of the aliens, but that is part of Dr. Who's charm. The effects are balanced by the great acting by the main characters. There is a balance of seriousness and fun. Billie Piper does such a wonderful job as Rose, the Doctor's companion. Honestly, I didn't think I was going to like her. I was put off by the bleached hair and former child pop star-ness of Piper, but I'm glad I was wrong. I'm going to miss her when I finally see the third season.

Both Eccelston and Tennant are marvelous. They give different shadings to the Doctor, but there is a unity between their performances. Plus they play the Doctor as they should. He's a traveller who is fascinated by, and often gleeful about, the new peoples and places he encounters. He has all of time at his fingertips and he just wants to learn more.

Rose is the Doctor's most tangible connection to the human race, and he so dearly loves humanity. The Doctor revels in humanity. He loves humans' curiosity and perseverance, even when both cause major problems for everyone involved. All of the episodes are suffused with with this love and appreciation for humanity's strength and weaknesses. It's this love and giddiness that must be how the two actors tie their performances together. Both have wonderfully warm, wide grins.

Remember to check your local PBS listings on when Doctor Who airs and check it out, if you haven't already.

Cross-posted.

The fate of internet radio

UPDATED BELOW.
The Copyright Royalty Board voted Monday to uphold its March ruling that will change the royalty structure for online radio stations. Under the old set-up, commercial radio stations all paid a flat fee and then paid 12% of their profits (source). The new set-up will apply until 2010 and will charge a flat rate per-song, per-user, plus $500 for every channel owned by a station. The rates per-song will increase until 2010, going from .07 cents (in 2005) to .19 cents (in 2010) (source). This will only effect internet broadcasts.

I believe in paying artists for their work, but I do not see how this is going to help artists in the long run. Stifling broadcasts will not help artists get their songs heard. I listen to a lot of internet radio and probably hear about most of the bands I listen to through it. I don't know if I'd hear about little bands from other states without it. Services like Pandora, whose goal is to expose listeners to new music, have completely expanded the sample of music possible for me listen to, and it is very much threatened by this new ruling. How will small bands get heard? How will buzz spread?

I don't have the hippest taste in music. I'm not chasing the next it band, but rather I'm looking for some connection to music. I want a better understanding about who the musicians are and what their sound is about. I find this easier find online. And I try and support the internet radio stations I listen to. I subscribe to KCRW out of Santa Monica because I stream their program Morning Becomes Eclectic fairly often. (What will I do without access to Nic Harcourt's show?) I do this because I understand there are more costs to stream content online and I want to contribute to a community of which I feel a part.

I encourage you to go to Savenetradio.org and sign their petition to try and overturn this ruling. There is also an easy form to send a letter to your representatives in Congress. I'm not sure if it will help, but this is a huge step backwards for technology and the music industry.

From Tim Westergren of Pandora:

Understand that we are fully supportive of paying royalties to the artists whose music we play, and have done so since our inception. As a former touring musician myself, I'm no stranger to the challenges facing working musicians. The issue we have with the recent ruling is that it puts the cost of streaming far out of the range of ANY webcaster's business potential.

Reg of Reg's Coffeehouse about the music he plays:

The music I play comes from a place inside me, not from a corporate playlist, not research, nothing calculated, nothing pre-planned. It reflects what's going on in my life, the world, my community and in my listeners. It is reality radio. No shine, no gloss, just radio by the seat of your pants.

Other sources:
FAQs about the ruling.
Radio and Internet Newsletter by Kurt Hanson of Accuradio.
ARS Technica post about the ruling.
BBC article on Monday's ruling.
Article about first ruling in March (from Salon).

Cross-posted.

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The blog for the SaveNetRadio has more specific information. Read the comment sections, as well, for better discussion of the issues.

A moment of silence

My head is still reeling from the unbelievable violence in yesterday's shooting attack at Virginia Tech yesterday. My heart and thoughts are with the people there.

The cat stop gap

My mother reminded me that I haven't been posting, so here's a photo of Frank-o-rama to stop the gap. This photo was taken a month ago already, before I left on my trip. (The books piled next to him are the books I brought with me.) I still have yet to get the remainder of my photos up on Flickr.

Frank is acting like a cat now. Suddenly he is giving himself long, deliberate cat baths. Then Saturday he curled up to go to bed and started kneading the comforter. That was a first! I had almost forgotten that cats do that! So, the little fuzzball that was is suddenly a cat.

I've got some back Etsy-love I want to post about, and I've been working on a post about my newly found love for Dr. Who and David Tennant. Plus I'm way behind in one class and have a huge test Saturday, so we'll see how it goes. In sh'allah, I'll get my photos up.

It also seems like spring for sure here. Let's hope it holds. I hope everyone affected by nor'easter dries out soon!

I also forgot to mention the 2016 Olympic bid... Chicago's in the race and I'm still ambivalent to wary about it...

Drifting slowly towards senility

This is the fourth time this week that I have been unable to find my glasses, only about twenty minutes after setting them somewhere. I recognize the fact that one becomes one's mother, but this is all happening a little too quickly. (No offense, Mom, but I couldn't get the fast metabolism?) I still can't find them. They must be somewhere in my room, but for the love of all that is holy I cannot find them. I am doomed to squint like the little old lady I am.

"They're on your head, Mrs. Richards!"

Trust me, I've checked there.

Have you ever seen the movie Gaslight? The movie where Ingrid Bergman is slowly driven insane by her husband? I think someone is stealing my glasses and hiding them from me. The other day they were in my bed, under the covers. Do you think it's the roommate? Or possibly the cat?

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UPDATE:
It's the cat. My roommate, laughing wildly (perhaps she's in on it) found them underneath the dining table.

Three mini movie reviews

I have celebrated my return to the US with a glut of movies, though I still missed one I can't wait to see (The Lookout). I don't feel like pulling a Mannion and writing up long and thoughtful posts about each, but I have slightly longer than sound bites that I thought I'd share instead.

Thursday night my brother and I went to see The Host (Gwoemul). I knew when I first read press about this movie that I would have to see this with family. My mother taught her children at an early age to love monster movies, Godzilla most of all. My brother probably inherited most of this love for monsters more than my sister or me, so besides proximity, he was the perfect choice as movie partner.

The Host is a Korean monster movie surrounding a family of misfits: a grandfather, two sons, a daughter and a granddaughter. The granddaughter seems to be the only put together one of the lot. Her father is narcoleptic loser who works a food stand by the Hahn River with the grandfather. The other son is a college grad with no job and the daughter is a world class archer who only ever manages bronze. There is a monster that comes out of the river and kills a bunch of people and captures the granddaughter. The misfits fight against many odds to try and rescue her.

People, see this movie. I laughed, I cried, I got really scared. The monster itself was awesome. It's amphibian and had a prehensile tail, which means it could swing beneath bridges as well as run really fast. The acting is great. The family is hilarious and stop at nothing (truly) to get the daughter back. Running underneath this all is a commentary on American military arrogance that is spot on. What more could you ask for in a monster movie?

Sunday night was my true glut of movies. I went to see The Namesake with my friend Allison. The movie is directed by Mira Nair (who I think is hit or miss within her movies) and based on the book by Jhumpa Lahiri. I hadn't read the book, but have read The Interpreter of Maladies. Allison had read the book and was looking forward to the film.

The story is told in two voices, from the parents' perspectives and from their son's. I had read that the actors who played the parents (Irfan Khan and Tabu) were wonderful, but the other side lacked the same depth and emotion. I found that to be very true. The story of how the parents came to be married and learned to love each other was beautifully shown in small moments, in looks and slight touches of the hand. Kal Penn, who played the son, was a little heavy handed in his acting, especially when balanced by such soft touches by the actors playing his parents.

When I got home from The Namesake, Natasha and I ordered The Wind That Shakes the Barley onDemand on cable. We had planned on seeing it at the Music Box, but figured we'd be more comfortable in our pjs on our couch. Man. What a way to end Easter. It's a beautiful movie. The acting, directing and cinematography are all beautiful. Cillian Murphy kills me, as usual. But god, is it dark, with humanity at its worst in many ways. It tells a story of how the Irish revolution tore apart Ireland, especially one family. Good movie with a bleak story.

Partially cross-posted at New Critics.