Wednesday, July 21, 2010

on sadness

so yesterday i watched 'the education of charlie banks' while i was 'getting stuff done'. i thought it would be funny. because it has that funny kid in it. you know. the one from adventureland. the one who looks like michael cera, but older. it wasn't funny. really. it was much more sad. somewhat predictable, maybe... but. sad. a coming of age type story. i'm guessing it had some parallels to the great gaspy, but i haven't read that yet, so i can't say for sure. it was a pivotal book in the movie. ANYWAYS!

in it, there was this song. which i have heard before, i think.... but it sure did stick with me this time. it was very well used... and i've had it in my brain ever since. and it is called 'the sad song'. and it is by fredo viola. here it is:



and the thing is, it does make me very sad. this sad song. and i wonder. is there something scientific about it? is it, musically, the correct grouping of notes to create sadness? is there such a thing? sure, minor is usually pretty sad. but... well... that's something for you musician types to think about. decode it! go!

anyways. in light of that song, i thought i'd write about sad stuff. a bit. like.



GLEN HANSARD! (the swell season.) oh man. great concert. mel and i went to see them play at the queen elizabeth theatre, and it was great. so great. great great. you know that shouty-singing-yell thing he does? well. when you're in a smallish-theatre-room, that shouty-singing-yell is mighty powerful. makes your heart feel weird. makes your arm hairs hurt. makes your ribcage expand-collapse all at once. it is good. for the encore, he came out alone, and sang 'say it to me now' away from the microphones. all acoustic and whatnot. and the lighting was from either side, throwing this giant sad-glen-shadow up on the sides of the theatre. super-raw-times. they went on to play a pile more songs, but i was kind of hoping they'd leave it at that. 'now we've devastated you. go on home! thanks! goodnight!'



mel, marc, my new friend stuart, and i went to dim sum.
to be fair, it wasn't really sad. it was delicious. but the last time i went to dim sum was sad. (remember, emma? remember how i cried a bit, but pretended not to. yup. that wasn't so good. that time.) so i get to include it in this post. also, i like adding new characters to blogstown. too. marc is a repeat character now. and you get to meet stuart! i mean. no exclamation mark. sadclamation mark...





also sad. mel bought some blow up floaty devices for the pool. and we went out with one of them that day, and it wasn't as hot as it had been earlier when we got to the pool. so, that's pretty sad. and. i haven't been back to the pool since. and that was, like, a WEEK ago. SAD!



katie came to visit me! but then she left again. sad. (okay, to be fair, my life here isn't all that sad. i may have run out of sad things to talk about. go with it.)

we went to christie pits pool. which is FREE! overrun by children, but FREE! however, the young lifeguard wouldn't let me do any cool dives. 'no back dives!' he said, as i turned around at the end of the board. 'i'm not doing a back dive. i'm doing an inverted dive.' i said. 'uhhhhhhh... no inverted dives.' he said. i don't think that is really a rule. i think he made it up on the spot because he was confused. stuuupid kid.



later that day, katie and i spent some time people watching in kensington park. man oh MAN were there characters there! amazing. two of our favourites, especially in their sharing of the same space: the ultimate-douche (pardon my language) and the spacy-hippie. he was all shirtless, talkin' business on his cell, flexin' his muscles, bein' the hottest thing in that there park. man was he hot. man did he know it! man. he was important. and flexing. and she. was doing what can only be described as erotic-yoga. she really loves the earth. it was brilliant. people watching is the best.



that's about it for now! since i haven't put any art or fashion on here in a while, here's a drawing of a dog i did a while ago. he's kind of sad, no? sure.

4 comments:

Emma said...

Those people in that little park are the best ever.

And,

were you crying because of all the shrimp(s)?

fredo said...

All pets seem sad to me, I'm not sure why. (your dog sketch is wonderful, btw.)

Found your link through google alerts. I just wanted to comment on your question about there being some scientific reason behind the sadness-creating effects of some musical ideas...

I think that song is one of my saddest although it's largely in the major key. When I first sketched it it was even more ethereal, even more yearning... honestly, it sounded a bit like Enya and I was embarrassed to play it for anyone. In retrospect, somehow this first version didn't seem sad at all. It was when I put in a strident rhythm, some polyrhythmic counterpoints and lots of positive intentions that it started to get effectively emotional.

Polyrhythmic counterpoint really upsets the system and gets the listener... well, upset, but kind of more in an excited way. Because the listener is unconsciously counting along one-two-three-four, one-two-three-four, but then suddenly there's some element juxtaposed of one-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three, and it works!! It fits! So, brain starts to get all excited about that. That two kinds of counts can sit so comfortably on each other, clashing so elegantly. (As a perfect example of this, listen to the first movement of Beethoven's Pastoral Symphony.)

Then the other thing that excites emotions is either the quick changing from major to minor or vice versa, or sometimes even the simultaneous juxtaposition. At the climax of the song I introduce a keyboard synth that kind of streaks from left to right repeatedly. That section of the song has been pretty solidly set in a one-two-three, one-two three rhythm, but this new synth, which is shifting from major to minor and back, is also reintroducing a contrasting one-two-three-four.

I think those might be some of the elements that wring out emotional excitement.

Again, try listening to the Beethoven as it very clearly exhibits the build of excitement from that polyrhythmic juxtaposition. And for the major and minor thing, Mozart used this technique quite a lot. You get lots of it in his Piano Concerto No. 23.

The juxtaposition of major and minor creates a kind of discord, so a very messy kind of emotional impact. Blues music is often doing this. And a lot of Modern Classical composers used this technique. One of the most memorable for me was by Alfred Schnittke in a piece called the Viola Concerto. It's a very very dark piece of music, perhaps one of the most terrifying I have ever heard, but the last movement is constantly juxtaposing major and minor and it's so heartbreaking.

Anyway, I really enjoyed reading your blog.

Anonymous said...

Love Glen Hansard...I got to meet him last week...He is the BEST!

dharma said...

Why is it when I post videos I don't hear from the artist the NEXT DAY!!
I sure would like to hear from Richard Ashcroft...