dianaschnuth

Art vs. Sport

Last night, I found myself in front of the TV, watching Olympic figure skating: specifically, the men’s short program. I tuned in partway through, so I missed some of the more inspired performances. However, in amongst all the guys who bailed on their triple (and quad) jumps and just generally phoned it in, there was one skater whose program really captivated me.

In looking for a video of Evan Lysacek’s performance, i found this short but interesting AP video interview with his choreographer.

Before I watched this “behind the scenes” news bit this evening, I thought I was going to be writing an amateur commentary about male figure skating in general, and Evan in particular.* Instead, my thoughts have turned to the parallels between figure skating and drum & bugle corps (which, for those who may not know, is an activity in which I was involved for five years total: 1995-1997 in “junior” corps, and 2004-2005 in “senior” corps).

Besides the similarities in judging, there also seems to be debate in both fields whether the activity in question a.) actually qualifies as a sport; and b.) should be designed for the judges, the audience, or both. Ms. Nichol’s opinion is very close to my own:

I’m trying to appeal to those that I know have spent the hours and the time, and really understand the incredible difficulty of some of the things we’re doing on the ice; and then I try to do it so that anyone can enjoy it. I think of what my Mom’s watching, I think of what my neighbor’s watching, and how do I make this program enjoyable for them? And how do I make it so that it’s something the judges will be able to understand and respect — and especially my colleagues?

There are a lot of people saying right now that you need to choreograph to the lowest common denominator, you have to be able to grab people in two seconds…. I still have to believe that the essence of figure skating is the most important thing, the progression of the sport through that.

This is very much like the delicate balance of drum and bugle corps. Where is the line between pleasing the judges and pleasing the audience? As a former corps member, I can appreciate difficult drill moves and musical passages and such; as an audience member, I also appreciate the blow-your-face-off company fronts and the ballads and the tunes you’ve never heard before but still get stuck in your head as you’re leaving the stadium after the show.

As soon as I stopped having those awesome audience-member moments, I stopped attending drum corps shows. I stopped seeking out the pre-season recordings of Memorial Day camps, when the show is just about complete. I stopped caring about the activity as I once did.

I watched more figure skating last night on network television and tonight on the internet than the amount of drum corps I’ve watched in the past two years, either live or online. And I enjoyed it more.

Appropriate, somehow, that Evan skated to The Firebird, a piece I know only from its popularity as a drum corps staple, most notably performed by the Cavaliers in 1976 and 1997.

* As far as my commentary on male figure skaters, and Evan in particular: Details matter. Watch the video of Evan’s short program performance and note his arm position, his hand position, the extension of his body. He uses his long, slender body type to his advantage, making every inch of his height and wingspan count. Even his choreographed head snaps add to the overall effect. He makes the most of every movement, paying close attention to each detail. The multiple daily runthroughs of his program have obviously paid off.

I Know People Who Have Done This

[via PostSecret]

Disappointment

I’ve been watching the 2007 DCI Finals on ESPN2 this evening, while recording it on Aaron’s computer with the intent to burn a DVD of it before bed.

I just came downstairs and deleted the file. On purpose. I’m never going to be inclined to watch it again.

The corps’ programs just didn’t grab me this year. I knew that early on, and that’s why I didn’t attend the Toledo show or travel north to any Michigan shows.

I haven’t heard a ballad that brought me to tears in years. It’s been a long time since I left a stadium singing a riff from a show, wondering what song that was. The members still totally throw down; it’s the design teams that are leaving me scratching my head lately.

I don’t think I’m getting old and out of touch, per se… but maybe the activity is moving forward without me. I’ll stick with my ’88 Bluecoats and my ’92 Blue Devils and my ’95 Scouts and Cavies and my ’96 Phantom and be content with the fact that my favorite years in drum corps seem to coincide with my favorite years in popular music, as well.

Just label me as stuck in the ’90s all around, I suppose.

Drum Corps Withdrawal

Some years, I just don’t get “into” corps. I always go to the Toledo show in June — usually the first show of the season for most corps involved — but sometimes, I can’t really get excited about making two-hour drives to see other shows during the summer. This was one of those years.

Tonight, on ESPN2, I watched highlights from the DCI World Championship Finals. I recorded it on the PVR program on Aaron’s computer, and am currently burning it to DVD. In a few more minutes, I will have a DVD of the two-hour program I just watched, complete with chapter stops to skip the commercials. Tomorrow, this DVD may even have a fancy label printed right on the disc, if I get around to designing one.

Some years, I get “into” corps right about the time the highlights are broadcast on ESPN2 or PBS or whatever medium they’re in. I’m not sure if this is one of those years or not.

We’ll see tomorrow, after I listen to the On The 50 podcast that’s been sitting neglected on my iPod for weeks. If I bring my old DCI tapes downstairs and start digitizing them and burning them to DVD, that’s a sign.

Twilight Sheen

I ended up taking a brisk walk around the neighborhood this evening, just before dusk. I’d strapped on my iPod, and the first podcast I queued up was On The 50 (a weekly podcast of drum corps opinion), and I’m sure that affected my mood on some level.

As I finished my first lap around the neighborhood, I’d also finished the podcast. The sky was that particular shade of blue that means the sun has set, and that it’s going to be very dark in about five minutes. The stars had begun to come out, and a light breeze was cooling the sheen of sweat I’d managed to accumulate. Circles of light pooled under the streetlamps, spilling over curbs onto the street.

I queued up another podcast as I started my second lap, but my brain was still focused on a memory. Drum corps in the mid 90′s.
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Making Things Difficult

So, I finally decided it’s time to get off my ass and work on the LSM page again. Figured I’d start with installing phpBB, the standard generic PHP-based forum. Simple to configure, free… can’t go wrong. Right?

Well, I came across a problem. LSM’s hosting only allows one SQL database. That spot is currently being used by my home-grown content management system, which is kind of important. So… now I get to figure out how to write a forum FROM SCRATCH. Or at least steal appropriate someone’s code.

I’d just gotten myself all excited over figuring out how I might make an alumni database work. Now this… this is a little more daunting. I don’t doubt that it’s possible, but I also don’t doubt that it’ll be buggy as hell. I just hate to disappoint. Shout-out to all web geeks: any help here? Where can I find my holy grail of forum code?

I guess the bright side is that my users a.) will be able to access the forum with their site login, and b.) will *have* to sign up if they want access to the member forums!

Update, 6/9/06: Thanks to Sheryl’s and Dan’s patient explanations, I now have a brand-spankin’ new forum installed on the LSM site! Now all I have to do is write a post about how to sign up, how to play nice, etc; add a forum link to the main site; and email the board of directors so they can be my guinea pigs to test the thing.

It’s Done.

I turned in my mellophone after last night’s Lakeshoremen Open House.

There were several reasons I decided not to march in 2006, but the membership was definitely not one of those reasons. Everyone was supportive of my decision, and they all seemed to understand, but they really didn’t want me to go. Kemo tried to convince me to attend a few early rehearsals, so we’d have an easier time recruiting mellos, and Ann and Mona kept asking if I’d changed my mind yet.

Really, though, after two years (winter, spring, and summer) of driving to Michigan every other weekend, I’m finding that I’d rather enjoy my weekends with my husband instead. Maybe we can be social sometimes, instead of cramming all our chores and laundry and shopping into one day. Maybe attend some of the weekend-long anime conventions we had to pass on last year. Yes, this is a bit of a selfish decision, I suppose — but this is the time to be selfish, before Aaron and I start a family.

I felt a little more secure about leaving the mello line after seeing the new talent, though. Amber’s returning, and there’s two or three new mellos (depending on whether Courtney ends up being drum major); so, even with me leaving and Duane opting to focus on writing and cleaning drill instead of marching, there’s still a solid core of three or four strong mellos (assuming we don’t scare any of them off). The goal for 2006 is five mellos, so we’re well on our way.

I was pleasantly surprised at not only the number of new people at the Open House, but also at the quality of the overall sound we produced. LSM just keeps getting better and better earlier and earlier every year. The hornline had 19 returning and prospective members total, and there are still a few returning members who couldn’t make the Open House. I think that, if everyone does their part with recruiting, we’ll fill out the hornline this year with no problem. Three tubas (or contras, if you prefer), five mellos, ten baris and ten trumpets (or sopranos, again, if you’re old-school). I think we can do it.

And, yes, I still say “we” because I’m still involved with LSM, despite my not marching. I’m still the webmaster, and I’m still a member at-large of the Board of Directors. (That said, anything I state on my personal site should not by any means be construed to be the official word of the Lakeshoremen. Check lakeshoremen.org for official news.)

It’s like Dan said:

Once you grow up and move on, it’s nice to actually MOVE ON. If you have something positive in your life to devote your attention to, why spend your time and energy on a chapter that is admittedly closed? The glory days of youthful summers are gone, but the heady days of mature summer can kick just as much ass, though in a different way.

I say you can give back to drum corps any way you want, but explore the next chapter of life with the same enthusiasm with which you explored your youth.

As much as I hate to let go of performing, I think I have to agree.

Conundrum

Here’s the thing.

This past summer, I was waffling weekly about whether I wanted to march drum corps in 2006. I would be getting ready to drive the hour and a half up to a “camp” (aka six-hour-long rehearsal), or to a parade, or to a carpool site before a weekend trip, and I’d be absolutely positive that, no, I’m not doing this next year.

Then I’d arrive at said rehearsal or performance and wonder how I could possibly think to give this up. Not once would I contemplate what was going on at home, or the opportunity cost of marching drum corps. I was berating myself for not practicing more at home, and concentrating on my own personal performance at the moment. That’s what corps is all about: focusing on a common goal, working toward a vision, doing my best not to be the weakest link.

Now that I’ve had some time away from it, though, I’ve been thinking about my reasons for wanting to march next year, and I’m finding them weaker than I’d previously thought.

First, I wanted to be a part of the very first competitive Lakeshoremen season. Since our debut at DCA was unexpectedly upgraded from mini-corps to Class A corps, though, I *was* a part of the LSM competitive debut. And we did well. We didn’t come in last — in fact, we were quite near the middle of the pack. I even had my very own little mellophone solo (not actually a solo, per se, but a good measure or so where you can hear my very own countermelody line over the rest of the corps).

Second, I was under the impression that I’d be very interested in playing whatever music we ended up playing in 2006. Several ideas were bandied about at the end of the 2005 season, but I was particularly underwhelmed with the near-final song selection that was played at the banquet earlier this month. I could really care less about playing that music. No disrespect to the show design team, of course. It just was a total turnaround from the ideas that had been shared late in the 2005 season. So, the musical selection isn’t such a pull factor anymore.

Third, and most importantly, I had wanted to march one more season of drum corps before Aaron and I decide to start a family. One more summer of selfish indulgence in what *I* want to do. Because, after we decide to pop out our progeny, the selfish days are over. Now that I think about it, though… wouldn’t I rather spend my possibly-final childless summer with my husband? Not in a car driving to Michigan every other weekend? Or more? I think I’d rather go to anime conventions and on vacation and hit garage sales and go thrifting and do all the things that my drum corps activity curtailed last summer.

I might turn in my mellophone at the Open House next month.

I’m still an at-large member of the Board of Directors, and I’m still webmaster. I’d also like to take some photos for the corps, for PR and for the website. I want to stay involved. But not at the expense of my family, or my relationship with my husband.

I think I’ve convinced myself. But what do you think?

Corps Season is Almost Over

I’m leaving tomorrow evening after work to head off to the Drum Corps Associates finals in Scranton PA. Rehearsal is on Friday, with a brass ensemble performance that evening. Saturday we rehearse some more, and head out to the stadium in the early evening for our competitive debut.

Deep down, I’m nervous and excited… but I’m having one of those *meh* sort of days today, so I’m not excited about it right this moment. I’m feeling like I wish I could spend the long weekend with my husband instead. I feel like I haven’t practiced enough over the past, oh, entire summer. It feels like the end of the semester, when I know that no amount of cramming will make me pass the final exam. But I know that when I get out there, in front of whatever crowd there may be, under the lights (if they have them on yet), I’ll be excited and happy to perform and I’ll feed off the energy of my corpsmates and the audience.

*checks Google maps for drive time*

Um.

OMFG.

Since I’m not taking time off of work tomorrow for a travel day, and my ride is swinging past Toledo around 6pm, we’re not going to get to Scranton until TWO O’CLOCK AM. *facepalm*

I have made a bad decision. Shoulda just taken my last remaining half-day of personal time, I guess. Ah, well. As I recall, the guy I’m rooming with for the weekend isn’t leaving until after work, too, so he’ll probably be getting there around the same time. So, the plus side is that I won’t wake his ass up. The minus side? I’ll only get maybe four or five hours of sleep before breakfast and rehearsal.

Damn, damn, damn. What a double-edged sword this senior corps thing can be.

When I aged out of Junior corps, I would have given anything to be able to keep marching. Now that I’ve found a way, I find that I’m not entirely sold on it anymore. It would be different, maybe, if Aaron were into it too, and came with me. As it is, on drum corps weekends, I have to choose the corps or my husband.

I don’t know how much longer I can force myself to have to make that choice.

One more year, maybe.

*sigh*