One Hundred

This is my 100th blog entry. It is a time for celebration and reflection. This originally started simply as an experiment: I wanted to understand how the blogging tools worked. While I clearly have productive months and unproductive months, I have been steadily contributing new material since August 15th, 2005—not quite two years. Blogging was the fashion back then, now it is almost a frenzy. I'll be honest: I generally don't read other peoples' blogs. Not only is there infinite choice and finite time to read, I have always felt that blogs encourage the writer to self-indulgency.

A couple of months ago I started looking at my site statistics. I can't tell who the individual readers are, but I can tell (generally) where they are from. Over the last month this blog as been averaging about nine readers per day. About half are American, the rest from around the World: London, Paris, Copenhagen and Toronto are the most common, but I see the languages representing readers include French, German, Dutch, Castilian Spanish, Italian, Japanese, Turkish, Polish and Greek! I can only hope that I am not completely humiliating myself on a global scale. I have had a few readers drop me an email, which I always appreciate, although I understand the desire for anonymity that many have.

The core of my content has been discussions of recordings. "Review" would be too strong a word because I don't take the time or space to give a rigorous analysis and commentary. My selection is based on what I happen to have on hand and really like. Twice I have written about recordings I particularly don't like, but in general when I write about something, it is either because I like it or find it very interesting. (There are plenty of recordings I don't write about because they simply don't inspire me with enough passion: they aren't bad, and I do continue to listen to many of them.) On occasion, I have been overly positive about recordings that had interesting aspects to them, but which don't represent particularly good performances. In one case, I found that my blog was prominently quoted on a performer's web site because I found a few good things to say for what is fundamentally a dreadful recording. Consequently, I am learning to be a little more careful about what I implicitly endorse.

I would like to make a comment about reviewing in general. I dislike backseat drivers: those who feel the purpose of a review is to critique details of the artists' choices. It is my belief that any thoughtful, mature artist has developed a concept for a piece that makes sense to them and it is my goal to try and understand that concept, rather than bemoan the fact that it doesn't express mine. Of course, it is wonderful when the two align: that is the basis for our favorite performances. However, what a dull World it would be if everyone played everything exactly the same way. What I won't appreciate is rhythmic sloppiness, intellectual or artistic flippancy, or an overall lack of clarity or blandness in concept and expression. These are all pretty subjective and I have learned that every recording I happen to detest for one or more of these reasons seems to have their supporters. Consequently, there really aren't many recordings that I give up on. Often I find I appreciate a recording more with time.

For example, last year I acquired the recording of Bach's French Suites, performed by Ilton Wjuniski, largely because some of them were recording on clavichord. My first take was that it was a dreadful disappointment, and I quickly abandoned it, not giving it a second hearing. I listened to it the other day and found that I really liked the performance, although the sound of the clavichord is still not particularly attractive. Perhaps my original assessment was tainted by my disappointment in the sound of the clavichord.

The blogs will continue, and they will continue to dwell on the things that I like. After all, music is a huge blessing: it transcends the bad news of melting glaciers, government-sanctioned torture, not to mention the ongoing decline of our aging bodies. It is wonderful to have something to celebrate.