22 April 2005

Route so far (map link)

Out of sheer idleness, and because Google Maps is so cool, I've put together a little map showing our route so far.

Across the Prairies to Saskatoon


[the prairie in April]

We've made it to Saskatoon after a, well, epic drive across Alberta and up through western Saskatchewan.

It's hard for a non-native to talk about the Prairies without falling into clichés, so I'll just say it: the prairie is incredibly flat, and it's incredibly beautiful. And the beauty lies in the flatness. The whole way to Medicine Hat I kept telling Dave, who periodically remarked that things were looking rather flatter than they had been around Banff, that he'd as yet seen all but nothing (beautiful as the Alberta grazing lands are). Then he took to observing that, while a certain levelness was never very far off, the fabled flatness of the Prairies was broken by some rolling patches, wasn't it? But by the time I took the following picture --



-- there was no more room for light-hearted debate. Saskatchewan has the purest relationship to earth and sky of any region of the world, and you feel your mind adjust. It should be humbling, but it also makes you feel more important. And we've been comparing notes on how friendly the people are, which has got to be the effect of this unearthly, yet so earthy, enviornment.


[barns on SK Hwy 21]

All this, of course, should set the simile-producing gears going in my brain; I can't help thinking that my prairie simile --

As when upon the western plains : the threat'ning thunderclouds approach
And all at once a dreadful rain : pours down in thick and lashing drops
It floods a peaceful river valley : drowning man and beast alike
And from a lonely knoll : survivors gaze : and weep for ruined life
With just such sudden force the English : fired against the charging French . . .

is rather inadequate, and not only because it was pretty cloudless. But then the idea behind the similes is to use Canadian landscape to express action (in contrast to Homer, who in his similes mostly expresses character through non-human animate life); and what sort of action is worthy of, or equivalent to, the Saskatchewan sky? Perhaps the battlefield the morning afterwards? That could be quite moving; but the Tour episode ends the night of the battle.

Quite a lot of driving.


[me hurtling down the road]

The Calgary-Saskatoon road music was mostly from the tribute album to Fred Eaglesmith (including White Rose, performed by Slaid Cleeves); Radiohead's Amnesiac; and of course the Blue Rodeo live album (disc 2) which we listened to several times. Blue Rodeo is really one of the great live bands of all time.

20 April 2005

Calgary school shows

Yesterday and today I performed in the two school shows, one at Richmond Elementary School in a residential neighbourhood of Calgary, the other at Chestermere Secondary School about 10 minutes outside town on the Trans-Canada. They both went well, but I had quite different audiences for the two performances: at Richmond, the kids looked to be about 9-10 (I know, it's appalling that I can't say for sure; they were small, though), while at Chestermere they must have been between 14 and 17. About 50 students in the audience at Richmond, and perhaps 150-180 at Chestermere.

For the young kids, the key thing was to abandon anything harsh and forbidding about the performance style (i.e. no "song tones" or quasi-chanting -- just plain metrical storytelling in my normal voice). Also, I managed to compress the story down to under 20 minutes, which was key. We had questions before and after -- extremely interesting ones, I may say: what bright kids -- and I think I held their attention completely after the first two or three minutes (it always takes an audience some time to adapt their minds to the meter, and then they're hooked).

At Chestermere, with older students, it was more difficult to guage what they would like; also, whereas I'd been in a fully lit room (the library) at Richmond, here I was in the gym with the lights on me and the audience in darkness. In some ways it's easier not to see the audience, but the intimacy of a fully lit room is also nice; hard to say which is better, as fundamentally different as the two spaces (lit and non-lit) are. Anyway, the Chestermere show today also went well, though I felt very tired by the end; I'm looking forward to a brief break as we head to Saskatoon. I also signed some autographs!

The technical end of things, both in terms of setting up sound and light and in terms of video recording, is going so well. Dave has really mastered all this stuff, and I'm so grateful for his untiring labour: I don't know how this Tour could happen without it.

Here are some snapshots of the Chestermere show:


[getting ready for the show]



[speaking in character]


[I think this is the description of the "solemn Ottawa" (the First Nation, not the town poised for the PM's sudden Party Political)]


["Behold, the bright red blood flowed forth : and spilled across his coat and clothes"]

Update: I forgot to mention that there are a few pics of our trip through the Mountains, added below.

19 April 2005

Octameter vs. Tetrameter

I had the pleasure of getting a good metrics-oriented email from Professor Reviel Netz of Stanford Classics the other day, and I thank him for letting me put it up. Regarding my remarks on iambic octameter, he writes (with links added by me, for some metrical terms readers may not be familiar with):
I still doubt that your poem is in octameter. I am not sure octameters exist. This is rather like saying that elegies are written in hendecameter. I do believe your poem is written in tetrameter with a fixed relation between odd and even lines (which has the same character as, say, that of the rhymed lines in heroic couplets). The theoretical reason to doubt the existence of lines above the 6-7 feet length has to do with the assumption that prosodic units are marked by hierarchical structures, so that we have morae - syllables - feet - cola - lines; with each level containing 2-3 constituents from the level underneath it. One can say that it is a matter of terminology, then, where we stop and call a level a "line"; but the recognition of a structural level makes it at least clear that the pentameter in an iambic pentameter, as well as the hexameter in epic, as well as the hexameter in Alexandrine, as well as the classic Russian tetrameter, all belong to the same level, whereas your 16 syllables belong to a higher level.
These are excellent observations and, I believe, quite true, especially as regards the basic, two-part line which structures c. 80% of the verses in the poem. Audiences used to compliment me on my tetrametric (4-foot, 8-syllable) consistency, at which my heart would sink: the idea behind the meter was to develop a line of a weight equal to Homer's dactylic hexameter, not to pair courtly tetrameters (as much as I appreciate that mode).

But I think Prof. Netz is right to note that we are dealing with a question of terminology. Certainly, it is the case that the dactylic hexameter --

~ u u ~ u u ~ | u u ~ u u ~ u u ~ ~ [or]
~ u u ~ u u ~ u | u ~ u u ~ u u ~ ~ [with ~=long, u=short]

-- was, in the hands of the skilled Alexandrian and Roman poets, a complete unity; this is why we speak of hyperbaton and not enjambment; indeed, a Latin hexameter (or pentameter for that matter) is hardly a hexameter without necessary hyperbaton.

Nevertheless, I believe the startling regularity with which the Homeric hexameter breaks its lines at the medial caesura (I forget the exact figure, but it's over 80%; and the remaining 20% might also qualify if we allow for artistic overstepping of the caesura; it's really only Rising Threefolders [~ u u ~ | u u ~ u u ~ | u u ~ u u ~ ~] that break the pattern) is traceable to the very origins of the hexameter, as suggested both by Nagy and West: the original independent metrical unit, expressing a single thought in (usually) two morae, and which has come to be called a colon, and which would have fit Prof. Netz's definition of a "line" (on par with Russian tetrameter, for instance), would have been something like:

x x ~ u u ~

evolving into something like

~ u u ~ u u ~ [a hemiepes]

give or take a syllable at the beginning or end. These would then have been paired in a manner characteristic of Indoeuropean poetry (and other poetries) in general -- a sort of couplet. For instance, in Beowulf, we find the line (101):

fyrene fremman : feond on helle
[to fashion evils, that fiend of hell]

Thus, in Steisichorus, we find the altogether unimaginable (for Homer) scheme:

~ u u ~ u u ~ | u ~ u u ~ u u ~ ~

and similar syllable-variation at the beginning and at the caesura, surely pointing to a phase in which the first half-line and the second half-line had not been welded together into the regular Homeric hexameter. (I believe no one has ever studied this on a formulaic level -- hearken, fellow young Homerists, this would be very interesting!)

So, what are we to call the un-hyperbaton-ised Homeric hexameter? A line (in Prof. Netz's excellent terms) with two cola, or rather two lines welded together? Is it perhaps somewhere in between, with lines like

(I.80)
[He is mighty among the Argives, and the Achaeans obey him]

being (diachronically, but also synchronically) two lines welded together, and lines like

(I.92)
[Who now claims to be by far the best of the Achaeans]

being complete wholes, and thus single "lines" all by themselves? Prof. Netz is entirely right that my "iambic octameter" is only octameter in the sense that I.80 above is true hexameter, as we know it from a later period; but full Steisichorean freedom (allowing feminine end in the first half line but beginning the second with an unaccented syllable) does not work with my verse -- indeed, I've noticed that the odd slip in this regard distracts the audience out of its semi-hypnosis. Perhaps I'm exploiting the grey area between line and colon?

First Experiment in Amoebic Verse : Gomery Inquiry


[Judge John Gomery]

"Amoebic verse" sounds pretty cool; contrary to what you might suspect, it's a term used to describe verse-making in which one person provides the first verse, another person the second verse, the first person the third verse, the second person the fourth verse, and so on, responsively.

Theoretically, iambic octameter, the meter of The Plains of Abraham, should be good for this. (More soon on whether the meter is actually octameter or in fact paired tetrameters . . .) So, while driving from Lake Louise to Calgary the other day, Dave and I tried it out.

Here are the
downloadable results of this first amoebic experiment, a digital video clip in .wmv format.

Update (Feb 2007) I've now uploaded the videos to YouTube.com, which means we get a nice streaming version!



You may have to boost the sound on your computer, as I was holding the camera and not speaking directly into the mike. Also, you'll see that we get better as we go along. We chose the hottest item in Canadian politics these days, the
Gomery Inquiry into the Sponsorship Scandal, as our subject.

Here's the transcript -- HTML is wary of leaving you multiple spaces, so I've indicated caesuras (regular breaks in the verse) with colon marks [:] --

Jack
. . . . Lake Louise. And Dave and I, keen political addicts, decided that we're going to see what we can do in terms of alternating lines describing the ongoing Gomery Scandal, in spontaneous composition. So, we're going to alternate lines, right?
Dave
. Well, we're going to try.
J
. We're going to try.
D
. . . . And all the nation then : did hearken unto Gomery
J. Judge Gomery, a noble man : who sat before the tribunal
D. Tis bad, he said, and tis corrupt : but worse it is, but small-town cheap
J
. Just so indeed Judge Gomery : declaring things to Jean Chretien
D
. And then he turned unto the scoundrels : to the men of bad comp'nies
J
. And many were their disgraced names : and sprung from far and wide they came
D
. And first among them was Jean Brault : the president of Groupe Action
J
. And he it was whose name was foulest : of the advertising chiefs
D. And yet in turn, when th' inquiry came : 'twas he who turned his back on sin
J
. And yet he could not stain his name : more deeply than it had just been
D
. For pure indeed was his reliance : on the federal sponsorship
J
. The scandal of the sponsorship : the most disgraceful deed of all
D. And next to him was Corriveau : an ageing man of silver hair
J
. Unyielding was his will : and stern his glance : but bad his memory
D. For like unto the Alzheimer's : was the disease which racked his brains
J
. And yet some said, in whispered words : it was not illness in his brain
D
. But rather it was his cowardice : for well he knew the guilt was his
J
. And yet he did not speak : on each in turn : he laid forgetful eyes
D. Polite to him were all the lawyers : [who] asked the questions at th 'inquir[y]
J
. Six million dollars in cold cash : he'd walked away with, on a time
D
. Yet scornful were the nation's papers : scornful most in proud Quebec
J
. And then behold, the Globe and Mail : and even that Toronto Star
D
. Did yell and shout and fill their pages : with their bold denunctiat[ions]
J. And then the editorial boards : did gather up within their groups
D
. And boundless words did they opine : in columns, banners, op-eds too
J. And all the public did come forth : and sit before the tribunal
D
. For many days was it blacked out : and none allowed to cover it
J
. And yet they knew there was a blog : some said, in Minnesota's land
D
. From which one could, in dark of night : read details, even testimon[y]
J
. And all the journalists indeed : knew of this blog, yet could not speak
D. And deeply did it grieve them thus : that they should know and not send word

Breaking news
: We just heard that Ratzinger has been chosen by the Holy Spirit as Pope Benedict XVI. Apparently Dave hedged his bets and actually put a euro on this outcome, which at 16-1 covers all his losses. (He had been unable to find out if hedging one's bets on papal elections was covered by the 1591 papal bull which forbade betting on this sort of thing.)


18 April 2005

Fort Calgary show / composition-in-performance

Egad, I'm tired. We had quite a nifty little show at Fort Calgary this evening: the first full hour of performance I've tried, and it went well. A wonderful theatre space there -- many thanks to The Dominion Institute for a spot-on booking. The length resulted from my slowing down the delivery somewhat, and including more or less each episode. Of course, each performance inevitably misses some lines, as well as adding some: I invented several describing the Mother of the Ursulines, and reconfigured Donald MacLeod's lament on the fly.

Here, for instance, is the "canonical" version of phantom Abercrombie's speech to Wolfe. (He appears to Wolfe in a dream, early in the Tour episode; diachronically, he is the angel Gabriel in disguise, but that aspect was taken out as I removed supernatural elements.)

Now listen to me, General Wolfe from Heaven I have come to speak
Now here you lie in bed and toss and turn as sickness burns your cheeks
You won't go back across the sea nor see again the English shore
But now it comes to pass that by your deeds the town of Frontenac
Shall fall at last with bloody slaughter as was prophesied of old.
Assemble all the men you can and cross the cold St. Lawrence' stream
And I shall guide you to a cove which lies beneath a dreadful cliff
L'Anse-au-Foulon it's called which guards a path which climbs the dreadful cliff
And at the top there stretch the fields men call the Plains of Abraham
And yet the angels and the saints describe them as the Fields of Grief
And there you may fulfill your vow to seize impregnable Quebec.

Here's how it manifested itself in the performance tonight (as transcribed from Dave's videorecording):

Now listen to me, General Wolfe from Heaven I have come to speak

For now you may fulfill your vow to seize impregnable Quebec
Though now you rest in bed and well you know this sickness is your last
I shall direct you to a cove which lies beneath a lofty cliff
L'Anse-au-Foulon it's called [etc.]

This isn't a very radical example, but you get the idea. We'll try and transcribe more in the weeks ahead, as this is an interesting phenomenon with regard to composition-in-performance. Again, I'm not trying to vary things, I just have to go with whatever has started its way out of my mouth. All this is getting much easier, and there have only been 7 shows so far! It is interesting to note that the difference, from an audience's point of view, between 45 and 60 minutes is practically nil: the only thing they're concerned about is that nothing, especially in the second half, be extraneous.

We had the benefit of two great audience members tonight, from the University of Calgary, one interested in mythological history and one an expert on James Wolfe. The latter was able to tell me that Wolfe was not initially struck on the left-hand wrist, as I'd had it, but on the right-hand wrist -- talk about accurate historical feedback!

Tomorrow I perform at a local elementary school, and Wednesday at a highschool not far outside town. Many thanks to the Saskatoon readers who wrote in about the typo on one of the flyers: the show is indeed on Sunday the 24th, not on (the nonexistent) Sunday the 29th.

Calgary reached

We have reached Calgary, and are just about to go off to Fort Calgary to scope the place out (it's tonight's venue). Meanwhile, Dave, never much of a betting man, and not a Catholic, but a great patriot, and caught like millions worldwide in a fervour of speculation about papabilitas, has placed a small wager on Cardinal Jean-Claude Turcotte of Montreal. The Holy Spirit, he reasoned, has always been very pro-Canadian, and certainly has never been daunted by odds of 100-1.


[Cardinal Jean-Claude Turcotte]

Update as of Monday: Here are some shots of us going through Roger's Pass and the Rockies on the weekend:


[The mountains seen from the Trans-Canada; it was a view like this every five minutes]


[Dave in Roger's Pass; the Illecilewaet glacier is just over his left shoulder]


[Me (with rhabdos) in front of accumulated snow in Roger's Pass; mountains in BG]

And, for good measure, here's a pic we took in our Calgary hotel room of the Scottish broadsword which Jim Mair lent us in Vancouver; given that the rhabdos comes up to my elbows (and I'm 6'2"), you can see how big this sucker is: