All You Need is Love (and, Perhaps, a Laugh or Two)

I drove home last week to have lunch with my cute mom and dad.  After discussing our common ground and diverging thoughts on Boyd K. Packer's talk, I smiled at my parents and teased, "Well just look at our little Mormon modern family: you've got a son who's gay, a son who's married to a non-member, a son who's currently being pursued by (gasp) a fabulous black girl, and a son who'd travel back in time to 1890 just so he could farm and earn a living at it.  Who would've thought?"

We shared a laugh, and then my mom said, "Yeah.  Not quite what we pictured, but it's what we've got.  And we love each of you, no matter what."

No, life doesn't always comply with the picture you paint in your head.  I'm quite certain my parents envisioned a completely different outcome when they first embarked on the process of rearing a family.  But, being the beautiful people they are, they've adjusted their vision, walked forward in faith and shown us that love is really all you need. 

On "Notes from 'Cole'"

I recently found a diamond engagement ring and wedding band I purchased three years ago for a young lady I intended to marry.  Needless to say, we didn't end up married.  Finding that ring (an realizing that I'd allowed myself to lose such a beautifully set, expensive stone in the first place) brought up many emotions I thought I'd left behind.

I've written a series of posts on finding that ring, and what it has represented at different points in my life for the past three years.  In the past, I've had heartburn over publishing posts describing my feelings and experiences as a gay Mormon.  Now, I'm not one who believes in justifying one's feelings (actions, however, should bear accountability), but I don't like to cause others discomfort.  I've debated about publishing these posts (and others on faith vs. nature, personal history, and shifting belief systems) on this particular blog: some posts are are composed as an I'm-writing-to-examine-and-understand-this-thing-in-my-life, and could be controversial or too "diary" driven.  I haven't wanted to make certain readers uncomfortable or uneasy about what they'll find when (and if) they read flowers.

So, while I do write about things I've learned while trying to balance a life in the Church and as a gay man, I don't believe flowers isn't the place for that.  I will be exploring those sorts of issues at another blog, Notes from "Cole".  Head on over there if y'all are interested.

On Children

Now, I know I can't take responsibility for having taken part in creating these two precious girls, nor do I lay parental claim on their upbringing, but I love them.

This quote from Brian Andreas sums up the realization I came to while my nieces were here (one of them twice!) in September--

There are lives I can imagine without children but none of them have the same laughter & noise.

Revelations before a Disastrous Marriage

I.
She is in the kitchen,
slicing cheese to melt over
white bread.  A few minutes later,
she sits with you on the couch, watching
the opening scene of something starring Julia
Roberts.  Two pieces of bread, topped with bubbling
cheese, crowd a small plate she puts in her lap.  You reach
over to take the piece you think is yours.  She slaps your hand
away.  “I didn’t make these for you,” she says.
                                                                             You get up to floss your teeth.

You are not too surprised when you think to yourself, Selfish bitch.


II.
The tongue,

     alarmed at how
     this small space it felt spreading
     between a tooth and gum
     came to be,

cannot quit curling up into
your lip
to touch that sweet sting of
cavity.


III.
You are both at a party.  She flaunts the ring you bought for her
until she sees you trying to ignore the drunk boy who is trying to
flirt with you.  Later, she sits in your car, asking you the question
you won’t ask yourself.  She reaches for your hand, because it’s
what she thinks you want.  You both cry, trying to curl up into the
space spreading out and in between you.

Some of My Favorite Things, All in One

J.M Barrie's Peter Pan + Hook + excellent music + fabulous remix = Pogomix's "Bangarang"

Some Words and a Poem

I couldn't find sleep last night.  I was up when I heard my dad upstairs, readying himself for work at about 5:15.  I went up to the kitchen, said good morning to him and drank a glass of water.  He works so hard, I thought to myself.  I wonder if the responsibility of caring and providing for our family is a burden he still is constantly aware of.

I went back downstairs, thinking of how much I love him and how much he loves me.  Sometimes, when he's feeling gruff and doesn't say "I love you" he tells us--his boys--that he's proud of us.  Reminded me of this poem.

first poem for Dad 

And straightway coming up out 
of the water, he saw the heavens 
opened, and the Spirit like a dove 
descending upon him: 
And there came a voice from 
heaven, saying: Thou art my belov- 
ed Son, in whom I am well pleased. 

    —St. Mark 1:10-11

Doubting your frequent compliments,

I’ve locked myself behind the bathroom door

To inspect my thin-skinned bones,

Hoping that the image in a mirror

Will help me square up why

You give such lovely praise to me

On this solvent-scented Saturday

Reserved for scrubbing toilets.

Falling lights and descending doves don’t offer

Clues to help me see your view:

“I’m proud of you, my son.”

I should trust you—your wisdom has always been

Constant truth as white as porcelain—

    You don’t give me lies.

July 28th Program

Weber State University

Department of Performing Arts 

Presents

Nicholas Maughan, Pianist

In Solo Recital

Wednesday, July 28, 2010 7:30 PM

Garrison Choral Room (BC 136)

Val A Browning Center for the Performing Arts 

(1901 University Circle
Ogden, Utah 84408) 

PROGRAM NOTES

Ludwig van Beethoven:     Sonata in Ab Major, Op. 110 

     i. Moderato cantabile molto espressivo

 Beethoven's final three Piano Sonatas (Opp. 109, 110 and 111) are sometimes performed as a complete set.  This is easily understood, realizing these are the final works he ever created for solo piano.  We discover within these pieces Beethoven's most intimate, inward relationship with sound and form, and--when one considers the works were composed after Beethoven had completely lost his hearing--how Beethoven's music really became a vehicle for his deepest expression.

I've chosen to open this evening's program with the first movement of Op. 110.  For me, it's the musical brother of Kafke's words:  "No people sing with such pure voices as those who [have] live[d] in deepest hell; what we take for the song of angels is their song."

 A man acquainted with ill health, I imagine the finality Beethoven's hearing loss created his "deepest hell."  He was, after all, a man of music, his soul in his ear.  And yet, in spite of the crisis, he continued to sing.  Opus 110 is a testament and a hymn, its reverent opening chords opening up to show that life, even when filled with silent adversity, can still reveal ripples and peals of joy.

JS Bach:     Prelude and Fugue in F# Minor, BWV 859

Bach's collection of 48 Preludes and Fugues, The Well-Tempered Clavier (Books I & II), is probably as revered in the pianist's musical literature as the Bible is in Christianity's canon of sacred texts.  Each of the Preludes and Fugues creates its own sound world and presents unique technical and artistic challenges, and Bach himself wrote the pieces were written "for the profit and use of musical youth desirous of learning, and especially for the pastime of those already skilled in this study."

I selected this Prelude and Fugue in F# Minor from Book I because I found the  characters of the Prelude and the Fugue make quite an intriguing philosophical contrast.  The Prelude exhibits Bach's love of the dance.  It's lithe and fleet-footed, 16th notes almost tipping over themselves in their rushing descents.  The Fugue, however, is a study in distressed resistance (the main subject) and calming assurance (the countersubject).  I also love the fact that this is a work written in a minor key, but the last chord finds a major resolution.  There's nothing as fulfilling as a lovingly-placed Piccardy third!

 Arno Babadjanian: Poem (1966)

I first became acquainted with this work when Tria Fata was competing with Badajdanian's expertly crafted Piano Trio.  I was YouTube-ing Babadjanian's other works, saw the title Poem, and thought to myself, Well, with a title like that, this should be a pretty, lyrical piece. Let's give it a listen.  Needless to say, I was quite shocked and thrilled when my expectations were shattered.

 After an explosive introduction, the work travels through three parts: the first presents an undulating ostinato which accompanies a long soprano line fitted with little Armenian inflections and turns; the second is a kind of nervous toccata-rondo, full of schizophrenic leaps and manic hand-crossings; and the final section repeats material from the introduction, ending in a cataclysmic bacchanale of sound, engaging the widest ranges of the keyboard.

 Sergei Rachmaninoff: Etude-Tableau in C Minor, Op. 33, No. 3

C minor is traditionally one of the darkest, most fate-filled musical keys.  Beethoven's Fifth Symphony and his ultimate Piano Sonata (Op. 111) were written in C Minor.  Rachmaninoff's initial treatment of the key is especially brooding and dark.  Thick chords and murky harmonies create an oppressive, seemingly endless heaviness.  To me, it almost feels like Rachmaninoff is contemplating his death.   But there is hope.  The tonal center of the piece shifts, light descends and, again, as I've mentioned with regard to the Beethoven's 110, we think we hear the angels sing.

This special piece is a fascinating study in the emotions and pictures harmony can inspire and suggest.  It's an essay in chiaroscuro, the strong contrast between dark and light, night and day and death and life.

Sergei Rachmaninoff/Sergei Rachmaninoff: Daisies, Op. 38, No. 3

This lovely piano transcription was originally part of Rachmaninoff's 6 Romances, Op. 38, a set of expertly crafted art songs for soprano and piano.  "Daisies," the third song in the set, revels in the delicacy of the white-petaled flower.

One of the few pieces Rachmaninoff wrote in consistently major harmonies, it demonstrates his affinity for refined counterpoint, his sweeping, lyrical lines and his expert artistry in manipulating pianistic (and vocal) color, all within three pages of music.  Although it is a miniature, it is a work of supreme, elegant beauty.  As the last line of the proclaims, "Oh, daisies! I love you so!"

 Frederic Chopin: Polonaise-Fantaisie in Ab, Op. 61

The polonaise is one of the most important of Poland's national dances.  At times heroic, chivalric, and even defiant, Chopin used his 16 polonaises to express the intense national pride he felt as a Pole, though living in France.

The Polonaise-Fantaisie, however, takes a less militant approach in telling its musical story.  It's his last large work, written three years before his death in 1849, and for me, even though he pays homage to the dotted rhythms of his beloved polonaise, there's a greater sense of distance, of immense space (pay attention to places where he employs silence), and of longing for the beautiful place one calls Home than we hear in many of his other works. I tend to think this is Chopin's meditation on mortality and the possibility of immortality.  The work presents a rich and complicated emotional image, its culmination more of a question mark than an exclamation.