Notes on Giselle

On Thursday evening I went to see the Paris Opera Ballet's performance of Giselle.  Unfortunately, the vast majority of everything I know about ballet I have learned some time in the last ten months by osmosis, so this is more a ramble than an actual review.  I have now reached the point where I can usually spot the big mistakes, of which there was one: the male lead stumbled badly during a variation in the second act.  The third male dancer with a solo (if you have a solo, but your character does not have a name, where does that put you in the hierarchy? I have no idea) also was somewhat unsteady during his pas de deux.

I still find it mildly confusing that ballets are often, if not usually, referred to as [choreographer]'s [ballet].  I realize that the dance is the main thing, but I am much more familiar in most cases with the music.  For instance, the Mariinsky will be in town in October with what I would have naively called Prokofiev's Cinderella, but the playbill calls it Ratmansky's Cinderella.

At any rate, Giselle's music was composed by one Adolphe Adam, a French composer who I happen to know now was almost exactly a contemporary of Berlioz, though musically less ambitious (and perhaps therefore less famous).  For the most part the score is good but not superb - fairly unremarkable, in fact.  However, at one point a climax of the dance of spirits in the second act is marked in the choreography by a repeated figure of what I will call a traveling arabesque.  Physically it is incredibly impressive; and the music here abandons its quiet eeriness for a dramatic build.   Unfortunately, Adam's score is here, if not actually in a major key (and I think it might be), still somewhat martial rather than ominous, making the effect somewhat comical, which breaks the mood rather thoroughly.  It was, true, not helped by the stage of the Kennedy's opera house, which registers every footstep, and thus had the effect of emphasizing the beat and therefore the marche of the music.  (I imagine that is a common problem though - I can not think there are too many stages anywhere in the world specifically designed to deaden the sound of pointe shoes.)

On the whole, though, the show was excellent.  The company struck me as a very technically focused one (where the Bolshoi, which did Coppelia a while ago, seemed more dramatic - though the ballets themselves are also very different).  The set was superb - I am still accustomed to college and community theater sets, so I find these fancy professional ones especially striking by comparison.  I particularly noticed the acting: while ballet acting is by necessity somewhat stylized, the "style" here was not overwhelming the story.  I imagine that there has to be some tendency similar to the actor who keeps trying to "do Shakespeare" instead of focusing on his part, but it was not evident here.

Incidents in the Life

Humor

A student was telling me about something "only our class knows".  In the middle, one of her classmates came up, overheard, and started panicking.  "What do we know?  I don't know what we know!"  I managed not to laugh.

Diminishing Returns

A chain clothier is advertising 4-for-1 suits for their "valued customers", aka people who got on their email list by buying something from them once.  Which I suppose is a good deal - but I don't need or want even one suit.  I already have two!

Nature vs. Nurture

I turned on the radio, on my drive home, in the middle of the second movement of Brahms' 1st Symphony.  Much to my chagrin, it took me a couple minutes to determine whether the composer was Brahms, Beethoven, or possibly Dvorak; I then failed to remember whether it was the 1st or 3rd symphony until the third movement began.  I suppose this is a silly thing to worry about, but the way I was raised I should have known it practically in my sleep.  (Not a silly thing to worry about: I apparently don't have a recording of any of Brahms' symphonies.  I am really quite confused as to how this could have happened.)

Thoughts On a Confirmation

On the Saturday before Easter - or as some would insist, on the eve of Easter, the liturgical calendar beginning days at night - a previously Protestant friend was confirmed in the Roman church.  I note this merely as background; as explanation or perhaps the provocation of the following.  In itself the circumstance was (for me) hardly unique: I could likely have said the same thing for any of the past five or six years, with regard to the Roman or Orthodox churches, though matching particular names to particular years is more than I can do now.

My own opinion of the Roman church I have probably stated before in this space: however, I will restate it briefly.  While possessing a certain superficial historicity, the Roman Catholic church is wracked by un-Scriptural doctrines and practices.  Any argument which would convince me to join the Roman church would have to either convince me of the validity of the pope's authority (if he has that authority, I am no one to argue doctrine, certainly not from outside "the Church"), or present a sufficient apology for the Roman church's doctrine from Scripture, or represent the conclusion a true reformation within that church.

Yet the point of this post is not to debate Roman views.  If demand requires, I will do so - elsewhere or at another time.  (As for the Orthodox: my knowledge is less, but the second and third criteria would also apply.)  No, this is more a record of self-reflection.  I am Reformed in my own theology, and attend generally churches both presbyterian and Reformed - though I am not a particularly convinced presbyterian.  I spent several months last year attending and studying at a Lutheran church - on invitation - due mainly to this lack of conviction, with additional impetus provided by a growing concern over the general practice regarding the Lord's Supper among Reformed churches: which is to say, in practice if not in confession, we lean too much towards mere symbolism.

The Lutheran experiment foundered, on a double (or perhaps treble) difficulty of its own.  The first: the use of the crucifix in worship, to say nothing of bowing, if not actually scraping, to the thing.  My greatest distaste for the Roman church I found in abridged form in the Lutheran - though at least there were no parades of and towards likely specious relics.  The second: a certain lack of utility - not to say precision - in the Lutheran doctrines of the Church and its governance, at least as presented to me.  To be more accurate, the Lutherans seemed to want all of the exclusivity provided by Roman or Orthodox doctrines of Tradition and infallibility (of church-through-pope or council, as may be), while claiming with Luther that "councils have erred" - and presumably must still continue to do so: a most curious stance.  Perhaps a more thorough investigation would have clarified matters, but I suppose I lack patience.  Also (note my count to three!) the music tends towards the excessively Germanic - and German native rhythms are noticeably different from those which fit English lines.  I suppose I should have been grateful that at least the words were English, but would it be too difficult to reset the tunes - as most other Protestant hymnals have done - to suit the different flow of words?  This is however a highly technical complaint, and not one which holds that much water in light of the rampant banality, not to say occasional stupidity, of many modern compositions spread widely throughout my own Reformed circles.

Once again, I wander fairly far afield.  The crux of the matter, brought home to me this weekend, is that maybe I do not care.

Does this sound strange?  Most people who know me know I am Christian; the rest probably assume so correctly.  I periodically - as now - discuss matters of the Faith here and elsewhere in public.  I can defend my faith, as Peter commanded, both as a Christian generally (all the way to the details of forcing talk of presuppositions) and as to my particular denominational choice (though less certainly here - for example, I have no significant attachment to and only slightly more defense for presbyterianism as currently practiced and taught as a system, Biblical or otherwise, for governing the church) and I do so, when occasion has arisen.

My friend's father remarked - I summarize - that he had been thoroughly impressed, though not a Catholic himself, with the zeal of my friend's friends for Christ.  Myself?

Well, I have some knowledge; a certain confidence; assurance - one might suspect self-assurance, I suppose; but not so much any burning energy.  I have a certain amount of self-discipline even with regards to my religious devotions; but I do not go out of my way to be conspicuous; rather the opposite.  Praying in the closet comes far more naturally to me than taking the pains to make sure my actions will cause others to glorify the Father.

Again, on my own denominational particulars, I accept what I have been taught to accept, but not always with the confidence of complete understanding.  Consider the acronymic summary of the Reformed confessions: the TULIP.  I rather suspect flaws in some arguments for limited atonement; yet those flaws depend on phrasing.  Is it the extent (as some would have it) of the atonement achieved that is limited?  This seems to fly flat in the face of Scripture's proclamation of redemption and love for the world.  Or is it (as others would say) the application that is (or will be, or has been - tenses melt in the face of eternity) limited? - this much at least seems undeniable in light of the testament the Word bears to the goats and reprobates.  And then what is the functional difference?  I illustrate: I could produce a similar contrast or dilemma in interpretation for each point, and then go on to consider problems posed by the phrasing of the formal confessions and catechisms.  I am tempted to believe that the majority of schisms in the Church over the years have been caused by such too-quibbling confrontations over various parties' attempts to explain the ineffable - but then there are battles that needed to be fought, as well, and who am I to draw the line?

On the other hand, in that I try to stand away from public debate on doubtful points. who is to say I am taking a wrong part?  Given my uncertainties, would adding "zeal" do any good?  Lewis writes, in various places, that he did not consider himself one to address any difficult points of the faith - even going so far as to avoid writing at all on subjects he had no knowledge of or temptations he had not experienced.  For me, the state of affairs is such that I simply have no opinion, or only the most guarded of opinions, on many of a wide range of topics.  The Nicene Creed I can defend in detail; an inquisitor refuting the Westminster Confession would find me rather more short-handed in apology.  Should I put in the effort to study further - or simply trusting God accept that I am not called as a theologian and put myself under the teaching of those who sit, as it were, in Moses' seat?  Or both?  The danger to me seems rather to be charging off in approximately the wrong direction - or am I simply too cautious, held back by my own habits and character?

Some Thoughts on Mathematics

It is a well-rehearsed complaint that the United States is "falling behind" the rest of the world in technical studies - meaning mathematics and science.  It is paradoxical, then, that the general United States curriculum features specific study of advanced mathematical topics - Algebra and Geometry.  Sometimes requirements have even advanced up to basic calculus or at least its underlying principles (indignified with the moniker "pre-calculus").  Most other countries teach Mathematics, perhaps glorified with a grade number, throughout middle and high school.

Speculating on the explanation for this oddity, I would suspect something like the following happened in American education: Years ago when "high school" would have been considered fairly advanced education, algebra and trigonometry and other advanced math would reasonably have been studied, possibly as electives; essential math would have been learned earlier.  Mathematics instruction likely suffered from the overall decline in American education over the (later part of the?) 20th century.  The language problems, I suppose, are documented better because writers felt them more critically.  Either the courses were never dropped in name, or people noticing the problems codified the "Algebra" and "Geometry" to be studied; however the rigor of the courses was slackened and the material diluted with the addition of other elements which were no longer being learned earlier - or which were part of newly expanding fields and felt to be "necessary".

As evidence, I have mainly the (I am tempted to say absurd) amount of review contained from year to year in the average modern US mathematics textbook series.  Admittedly mathematics is a subject I have some affinity for, but in my estimation the material generally spread over the three years from pre-algebra to second-year algebra either could be condensed into at most two years; or should be taught earlier; or is (at least from a conceptual standpoint) superfluous to the subject at hand.  An "Algebra II" class - I am speaking here from experience - by the end of the first month of classes can still be reviewing material theoretically learned up to three years before in "Pre-Algebra" (possibly even the first semester of that course) - linear equations.  True, the more advanced course has more detail and harder problems; I am not convinced that excuses the state of affairs.

I do not think - at this point in my career, at least - that the problem is the (nominal) focus of American courses.  The integrated approach adopted most famously by most Asian schools does have its advantages, mainly in maintaining a unity in the discipline; the focused study of a particular branch of a subject has off-setting advantages, mainly in ability to explain details rather than teaching by rote.  In disadvantages, the "subject-based" approach of American textbooks does tend to create artificial distinctions of one thing from another that ought to be known as related; however, an integrated approach obscures the focus achieved by distinguishing between the parts of a field of study.  Beyond that I am not qualified to comment - except to mention that more American textbooks seem to be actually using an essentially integrated approach, while maintaining their supposed subject matter in name only.

A more pressing problem is the study habits expected of students.  When a conscientious American parent wants the student to master a subject, and is willing to sacrifice grades if necessary, all is well and good.  When a lazy parent (to say nothing of the student or teachers) with "high expectations" wants the student to have an "A" but could care less about the subject, there is a problem - and the Asian parent determined that his child will have an A and prepared to expect that and make him work for it creates an advantage.  (I dislike relying on overplayed stereotypes, and can say from personal experience that - which should be obvious to any observer of human nature - not every Asian parent is in this regard an "Asian parent".  Some of them are quite prepared to look the other way on instance of, for instance, cheating; or even to berate teachers who attempt to discipline that behavior.  On a general comparison, however, the stereotype does hold true for fairly clear cultural reasons.  The comparison is therefore useful.  Also, I know next to nothing of European education, which is the other reasonable comparison point.)

So much for the problem.  What about a solution?  One obvious comment is that the best method of improvement must be increased expectations, even demands, on the part of parents and schools.  The effect of this simple change can be most clearly seen in modern America within the home- and classical-schooling community, where concerned parents created a demand - and have often been part of creating a supply - of improved, or at least diverse, curricula for language study both in English and the Classics.  Contrast this with mathematics education, especially in the public schools, where the number of available curricula in print has been steadily decreasing.  I believe there is a total of two courses remaining put out by large publishers, and one has much greater presence as best as I can ascertain.  My knee-jerk reaction is to blame Federal government meddling with standards, together with a human inclination to follow the Next Greatest Thing, but I could be wrong - the point is that with no serious competition and a largely captive market, innovation and diversity seems to be quickly becoming a matter of who has prettier pictures.

My own suggestions are limited by unfamiliarity with lower elementary curricula.  A makeshift solution I would propose as an upper school teacher would be to spend seventh (and maybe eighth?) grade focusing on practical math, starting wherever necessary and working up to whatever difficulty level is needed for scraping by (and hopefully more than scraping by) in life but without particular emphasis on unifying principles of "subjects"; the unifying principle of mathematics generally is (in my opinion - this would require an entire other essay) description and problem-solving.  With that foundation in place, you have a fourteen-year-old student who is capable of doing things like working out a simple budget (say, not overspending his allowance), working out basic problems in compound interest, calculating the price of a room's carpet, or not drawing to an inside straight (for reasons other than every book ever written with a card game in it saying so, not that that is a bad reason).

A high school can then teach those subjects which will be either necessary to a future career (as an engineer, architect, or the like) as electives, and require those useful to the formation of a thoughtful citizen ("Let no one ignorant of geometry...").  The question "how much math?" is a fascinating one I am not prepared to answer in the general case.  I am prepared to say that it would be easier to teach algebra thoroughly if a text did not interrupt - and perhaps need to interrupt - the fairly logical progression through the various variable functions with silliness about translations which should have been learned earlier, and bits of a trigonometry (for instance) which could either be learned later or cheerfully ignored.  Every calculus textbook I ever remember seeing not only confined itself politely to a strictly logical presentation of the calculus, but made assumptions of what the student knows.  If we imagine a calculus textbook written on the same principles as the average "Algebra 2", it would start by presenting methods to solve equations in one variable and would reteach the quadratic formula; in between types of derivatives there would be a discussion on graphing complex numbers.  An actual calculus text teaches a subject; I am not sure what the algebra book is trying to do.

The Great St Louis Rams Implosion of 2002

Courtesy of bitter Chicago fans over on Football Outsiders, I went on a hunt to see what the numbers said about the offensive work of one Mike Martz, Sooper Genius, over the years.  Everything I collected I left over there in the current Audibles thread if you're curious to see the "detailed" work so far.

Here's the short version: the success of the Martz's offense seems to be, on a first look-over, almost directly tied to the quality of the team's offensive line, particularly run-blocking.  It's hard to get good numbers: it's a thing measured best and perhaps only by things like FO's ALY and Advanced NFL Stats' WPA applied to the line.

This may be just a fact of football: no line, no offense.  On the other hand, teams like Green Bay and Detroit have spent this year at least trying to disprove the hypothesis.  My initial thinking is that there is enough lack of correlation in general to make the huge correlation in the case of Martz's offense, at St. Louis particularly, noteworthy.

As implied by the title of the post, 2002 seems to have been the edge of the waterfall for the Greatest Show on Turf.  From 1999-2001, no team put up better total numbers, even when evaluated by modern advanced stats.  Then in 2002, most of the advanced rankings drop the team's ranking to the 20s (out of 32), where the Rams stayed for the next three years until they fired Martz and the Lions picked him up.  Ever since then, Martz's offense has been producing more of those rankings-in-the-20s, seemingly without any regard to the quarterback involved (though possibly had Cutler stayed healthy we would have seen something different in Chicago this year).

As I mentioned, the key seems to be the offensive line, judging by ratings; but what I can't figure out is what went wrong in St Louis in 2002.  The line had only one change; the lineman lost at right tackle went on to "anchor" a mediocre Browns' line for years.  But that seems an improbable cause, by itself, of such a huge decline.  Anyway, there is a mystery here which I am tempted to research further.

(It could of course be much simpler: Martz hasn't had a stable quarterback situation since 2001 except the 2004 season which was much better; and then Chicago, though last year seems a little weird.  Anyway...)