Utopian Turtletop. Monsieur Croche's Bête Noire. Contact: turtletop [at] hotmail [dot] com

Tuesday, May 11, 2004


Monday night I dreamed that I had scored a rare book of essays by one of my favorites, Kenneth Rexroth, in a used book store, and at a bargain price, five bucks or something standard for a typical used book but not for a rare book. In my dream I was so happy.

The book doesn’t exist outside of my dream. It was called “Revictualize,” a neologistic pun on revitalize, revisualize, and replenish-the-food-supply or feed-again; implying that vision, vitality, and sustenance amount to the same thing.


My friend Emily Dietrich wrote in response to recent posts on acoustical space and on Rachmaninoff:

“At Mount Holyoke, we used to sing Christmas Vespers in New York City in I think Saint Thomas Cathedral.  It was stone and vaulted and all those things.  We all loved it.  Then, Senior year we sang at Saint Bart's which was lower and carpeted and we were all outraged at the plain old sound which certainly would not do for our mood music.  I was in a small acapella group (all female of course) and we sang "In Dulce Jubilo" and my mom, who had come from Michigan to hear the concert, said it sounded pure and perfect.  But to us squat Saint Bart was a sad way to end our Vespers career. . . .
“My mother-in-law always calls Rachmaninoff schmaltzy.  She insists that's not insulting, but since schmaltz is pure gooey chicken fat, I think there's a negative connotation in that label! 
“Jenny Brown and I played a Ferrante and Teicher duet in the Homecoming Show in 10th grade.  I'd never heard of them before, and haven't thought of them much since.  When we started playing, someone in the audience said, ‘oh no!  Beethoven!’
“My music theory prof in college said every pianist should be able to play the opening to Rocky's piano concerto, just to show off at parties.”

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