Dan and Heba wrote to me today regarding my post on Joshua Bell’s incognito performance in the D.C. Metro station.

I hope you — like me — can find enjoyment (and perhaps even criticism) in their wonderful commentaries.

To: Phil
From: Dan
Date: Late night
Subject: Contact Form Results

I must admit I only had time to quickly scan the article…Are they honestly saying Mr. Bell’s experiment demonstrates even remotely something about the average person’s disdain for classical music? They can’t actually be condemning society this way. If this is case, someone should introduce these vain people to the scientific method.

Amongst the many flaws this experiment has, the most outright is in the context. As someone who currently lives in a city with a subway system, I know that whether you’re playing pop/rock/classical/african music, you’re likely to be ignored by tens of thousands of people in a given day. Even the greatest classical enthusiast doesn’t hang out in the dirty, acoustically-dreadful subway to hear masterpieces…

So why should busy and unsuspecting commuting people be expected to pay any attention? Do people even have to visibly react or pay him to prove they enjoyed/acknowledged something? I see and hear things all the time that I find enjoyable but I don’t always stop to smell the roses.

On the other end of the spectrum, I don’t interrupt my morning jog when I see people I dislike to punch them in the face, either. Maybe I should.

In this case, neglect does not necessarily imply disrespect.

Tell the proponents of that attention-seeking virtuoso to get a clue. They make better musicians than scientists/sociologists.

Night,
Daniel

To: Phil
From: Heba
Date: Sometime this afternoon
Subject: Contact Form Results

Math and classical music are not for the masses, but [are] very fine indeed. Most people like junk food, not gourmet stuff. So math and classical music is gourmet food for the mind and soul. Cherished by those who covet true quality. You, Mr. Phil, are a true connoisseur of gourmet food.

Heba

I find it endlessly amusing when people call me Mr. Phil.

Thanks to Macarena who sent me this article about how celebrated violinist Joshua Bell was filmed playing at a D.C. Metro station while largely ignored by over a thousand people.

joshua bell

“It was a strange feeling, that people were actually, ah…”

The word doesn’t come easily.

“…ignoring me.”

Pearls before Breakfast

As a classical violinist, I’m not surprised.

You shouldn’t be either.

It’s well known that classical music (and certainly, classical violin) doesn’t have the same kind of mainstream appeal as say, classic rock n’ roll, pop, or the blues. In fact, I’m not even a fan of some of the music he played that day (and I’ve played some of the repertoire myself!) — it’s just not the kind of music I grew up with and not the kind of music that appeals to the Generation X or Y population.

In fact, that’s one of the reasons why I prefer classical guitar over classical violin. There’s a much broader range of musical offerings on classical guitar — especially in the contemporary period. However, violin repertoire is still very much inspired by the rennaissance, baroque, and classical periods. It’s hard to escape this on the violin and the end result is that usually if you dislike Mozart, Bach, Vivaldi — that kind of thing — you’re going to dislike the violin.

Was it an interesting experiement? Sure. Did it surprise me? Not really.

The simple truth is that classical musicians are not rock and roll stars or movie celebrities. Bach’s Chaconne, however beautiful, is not recognizable in this day and age. And sadly, a supermodel flashing the masses at a street corner is likely to draw more attention — however undeserved.

And now who wants to draw the similarities between the mainstream appeal of classical music and that of math?

The link was fixed. What? Nobody bothered to tell me?

Yesterday was my birthday.

Happy birthday, me.

It’s always a surprise when people remember my birthday. I almost never mention it. I mean, it just seems so pointless.

In any case, four friends called me.

All while I was asleep. Imagine that.

“Happy Birthday Phil,” one of them said.

“[incomprehensible mumbling] mmph-irrthday? [groan] mmphto ytoo?”

“Not my birthday. Yours,” she clarified, “Were you sleeping?”

“No,” I lied.

“Well happy birthday, then.”

“[incomprehensible grumbling] mmph–tastic, we’ve circled the sun again.”

“It’s your birthday. It’s an excuse to be happy. Stop being so grumpy.”

I’m such a grouch. Even on my birthday.

It was all very sweet, though I’m not sure why all four of them were girls — I wonder if girls are just naturally more attentive towards these things.

One of them even brought over this beautifully wrapped present for me, complete with lavender silk bow and expensive wrapping paper.

Shocked — the only thing I could do was give her a peck on the cheek and an awkward hug.

I’m a misanthropic, overworked grouch. But I have friends.

Friends I don’t deserve.

I bet they’ll realize it one day. And then I’ll still be a mean grouch, but without any friends.

When it comes to Christmas, I’m a bit like Scrooge.

To be honest, I guess it’s just that I haven’t had anybody to share it with.

Family is family, of course.

My mates are still as friendly as ever, though they’re more the Lets-Get-Together-Every-Once-in-a-While-and-Relive-Memories kind of chums.

And through bad timing and perhaps worse luck, I don’t think I’ve ever had a ladyfriend to share Christmas with. Perhaps the months before, perhaps the months after, but never the month of.

But that’s the way my life goes. I know that.

It’s just that Christmas season — moreso than any other season — is just so inescapably lonely when you’re…well…when you’re lonely.

It gets to you. It eats away at you.

And the only thing you can do is huddle in a dark booth at the local coffeehouse and do some work, hoping it passes quickly and painlessly.

Wow. Depressing.

And then there’s you guys.

The readers. The writers. The bloggers.

The people who’ve been privy to my affairs, both private and public.

Bless you people. Because without you, I’d be just another nut with his math.

But you don’t want any of that mushy mushy stuff do you?

I bet you’re all, “Where’s my presents, yo?”

So here we go.

Enjoy your presents and deepest apologies for any blogging friends and aquaintances I may have missed.

To Macarena…

To Rhys…

To Annie, Tracy, and the IT2M gang…

To Roselle…

To Hot Coffee Girl and Jane…

To Cornell, Sharon, and Michelle…

To Dave, Jon, and my old high school mates…

Peggy Post says:

So enjoy your Labour Day folks, and don’t let those snooty friends of yours bully you into putting away your whites.