... Now I am left with the idea to end this predicament once and for all: I will, heroically so, jump into that shark tank of a meeting, and if I find no sign of acceptance from them whatsoever, that’s when I consider going back on a circular “detour” and accept the generous offer I’ve just received earlier this morning from the dolphins of the south with whom perhaps I belong. But “going back” has never been said to mean taking a step backward. Time is linear, not circular; it is a journey through which one gains and gives back. We are, in each passing day, new, and therefore, though we find ourselves back in the same space, time has rendered it different. Einstein said “time is an illusion”, I say space is, too. There is no such thing as “going back” or “stepping backward”, for no matter where you are, there’s only forward, and will always be.
*FIRST THREE PARAGRAPHS CLASSIFIED*
... Now I am left with the idea to end this predicament once and for all: I will, heroically so, jump into that shark tank of a meeting, and if I find no sign of acceptance from them whatsoever, that’s when I consider going back on a circular “detour” and accept the generous offer I’ve just received earlier this morning from the dolphins of the south with whom perhaps I belong. But “going back” has never been said to mean taking a step backward. Time is linear, not circular; it is a journey through which one gains and gives back. We are, in each passing day, new, and therefore, though we find ourselves back in the same space, time has rendered it different. Einstein said “time is an illusion”, I say space is, too. There is no such thing as “going back” or “stepping backward”, for no matter where you are, there’s only forward, and will always be.
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Songwriting
Melody - wide leaps that always land on a non chord-tone text syllabication - accented syllable fall on weak beat but has longest duration to maintain correct syllabication rhythm - establish cliche then exceed it. sobra. garaon in fact exceed expectation on all elements. now get to work, b***! Awkward ideas need only to be shed under different light and they become bold innovations. It was a night like this, when silence is the only visibility, and black is a deafening frequency, that Philip Reich woke up to realize he had been called into existence in 1991 so that at 2016, he would be 25 and will have been sleeping for 3 years so he could write things like “It was a night like this, when silence is the only visibility, and black is a deafening frequency, that Philip Reich woke up to realize he had been called into existence in 1991 so that at 2016, he would be 25 and will have been sleeping for 3 years so he could write things like…”
In a congruent universe, Carl Mojeta was a superhero who has the uncanny ability to learn things the hard way. This, however, did not come without side effects; his long nose, has the propensity to produce water in the presence of an uninvited temperature and/or dust. Bisaya/Cebuano Poetry, yes. Containing Bisaya language, phonetics, sensibilities, culture, yes, there is such thing as Cebuano poetry.
Bisaya/Cebuano music? Is there such thing? Throwing such question will only lead to the discussion folk music and whatnot. But I’m talking about commercial music. Popular music with Bisaya lyrics. No doubt, I’ve heard many great Bisaya songs of this time, and by great I mean musically great (by the standards of popular music), well the lyrics weren’t bad either, doesn’t matter, the point is: What is really the difference between say a Tagalog pop song and a Bisaya pop song other than language? There is none. Remove the text, and both will still be derivative of western pop songs. Culture? sensibilities? humor? If so, then it’s no longer about music, and I bet there are other, more effective art forms to convey such ideas than music. So what do we mean when we say; “Padayon Bisaya music.”? That Bisaya people are good in songwriting too? Who thought otherwise? Perhaps that Bisaya songs should be just as prominent in the industry as the Tagalog or English songs? Or does it simply encourage more Visayan songwriters to write in their own dialect? If it’s the latter, then great, but bear in mind they will not be understood by non-visayans. But then again why force them to? Do we want more Bisaya songs in Myx? Or MTV? Or in nationwide radios? I will fight to the death for the belief that commercial success does NOT always signify good music, or true artistry for that matter. Yes, write more Bisaya songs. In fact, if you please, Tagalog, English, Maranao, Hiligaynon, etc. But if we TRULY are creators of MUSIC, does language matter? Music speaks for itself. Music is the “universal”… well you know the rest. Promote your songs, promote stories, promote love, promote beauty, promote art. There is no need to promote language. Nagmahal. Nasaktan. Sinamurai ang 88 ka friends ng ex sa ngalan ng paghihiganti.
By Quentin Tarantino Nagmahal. Nasaktan. Plot twist: imagination lang lahat, single pa pala! By M. Night Shayamalan Nag. Nasak. Caine. Ma. Tan. Hal. Mat. Sala. Nagmatan. Nasakhal. Nagmahal. Nasaktan pala. Salamat, Michael Caine! By Christopher Nolan Nagmahal. Nasaktan. Sinaksak ang ex sa labas ng sari-sari store tapos tinapon ang katawan sa payatas. By Brillante Mendoza Nagmahal ng isang bangkay. Nasaktan, sapagkat siya’y buhay. Tumalon sa kamatayan Upang mapalapit sa kanya habang buhay. By Tim Burton Nagmahaaaaaaaal. Nasaktaaaaaahhn. Kabooooooooom! By Zack Snyder 9.10.16 6.3.16
Yes we are one as Filipinos. There is an unspoken dissimilarity between the Tagalog and Bisaya that I could not for the life of me, figure out. Not that I thought so hard of this small and petty issue. Until I read the reactions to the Duterte CNN press con, the said dissimilarity could not be more clear. 6.1.16
13 days, 12 songs to arrange. 2 of said days will be spent moving to another apartment. Right now I am Jem Talaroc, B.M., M.M., B.M.A.A.O.C.B.T. (Bachelor of Music, Master of Music, But Mostly Arranging And Occasionally Composing Big Time). I'm good, I'm functional, productive, but there is tension in the environs in which I operate. * * * * * I've never seen the media so hysterical. Right now it's them versus Duterte. Their current preoccupation (or should I say obsession) is whatever comes out of the controversial Mayor's mouth. Fine. Duterte is wrong catcalling the tsiks reporter. Fine. He has a bad mouth. Fine. He is inappropriate in front of the camera. He is so wrong in that respect. Fine w/ British lady accent: "Good heavens! What kind of president is that? Oh my dear stars! My good lord! That is appalling! Outrageous!" The media's relentless focus on the man's etiquette is almost as intense as on crime or corruption itself. One day they will get tired. One day results will be delivered. And then we'll see what they have to say about that. But of course! We need not wait, we already know. "You cannot please whatever is the rest of this cliché". Even if Jesus Christ Himself is president of the Philippines, He will be hated so long as there are computers to empower the otherwise unheard voices. Hey corruption, hey crime, hey economy hey education, hey other really important issues, hang in there! The media will get to you as soon as they're done teaching proper etiquette and stately, presidential manners. 5.16.16
Three years in Metro Manila. At the very end of my pursuit of a Masters degree. I have worked with professional orchestras, choirs, performing groups, met local and international composers, won an award. At this point I have two options: Either stay in Manila, add more to that list, while my finances and social life hangs by a hair-strand. Or I could go back to the south, be a professor, be of help, be settled, be safe. But I don’t want to be safe. Not now, at least. There is a time in human life when one passes through a dark tunnel. I, at 25, am in my tunnel. Uncertain of the future, but I can only go forward. Only forward. Only forward. If I go back, I go back a different man. And that is good. But I’ll be doomed to live the rest of my life wondering what’s waiting on the other side had I not turned. * * * * * The elections, and the campaign that preceded it, is only matched by the season’s temperature. During which time everybody’s talking. So naturally, I shut up. Social media has magnified the best and the worst of the Filipino, which is why on May 9, I was introduced to a strange amalgamation of emotions; I simultaneously felt proud of and disgusted with this nation. I casted no vote, and felt powerless; the only absolute that day. The president-elect who says “Putang ina” a lot said “Tabangi ko ma” as he wept at his parents' grave five 3ams ago. Neither the English translation “Help me, Mom” nor the Tagalog “Tulongan mo ako, Nay” captures the weight of that line. To the Bisaya, “tabangi ko, ma” is childish, almost silly, so humiliating that in another context could be made fun of. It is a verse of humility; a surrender. Seeing him revert back to being a child is seeing beneath the Putang ina exterior; both ends of the spectrum. It changed the way I look at the man(not that I don’t already know of his reputation as Mayor). I watch him on interviews and I don’t see a “decent”, archetypical politician, but a father, tightening his jaw, banging the dinner table, “Kung mo ingon gani ko’g undangi na, undangi na!” It’s dawn in the Philippines, any moment a new era will rise with the sun. But whether or not change comes, ultimately depends on us. As I write this, a man named Ferdinand Marcos Jr. is now very close to being the Vice President of the Philippines. I will now go back to being a composer. CCP last night for Brahm's Ein Deutsches Requiem.
UE Chorale and Philippine Madrigal Singers. Olivier Ochanine with the PPO. Im sorry, PPO with Olivier Ochanine. Now for the time being, I will my leave the fancy-ass critique all to myself. Although one thing I can tell you is that watching it from Balcony II is analogous to watching it from a Starcraft-gamer perspective. It is far more fun to enjoy a Romantic-era piece with the gnawing fear of falling. |
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