Vilas Zoo

Tiger Through the Trees

Tiger Through the Trees

Last Sat­ur­day morn­ing, Veron­ica and I headed to Madison’s free Vilas Zoo. We met our friends Yi Hong and Steve there shortly after open­ing time, hop­ing to beat the crowds. Lit­tle did we know that the Green and Gold Train­ing Camp was going on that morn­ing, and hun­dreds of lit­tle Pack­ers fans and their par­ents had descended on the zoo. Luck­ily, the crowd mostly stayed occu­pied with things other than look­ing at the animals.

Iguana

Iguana

Although we’d been to the zoo a cou­ple of times before, we’d missed out on a few ani­mals and areas. This was the first time we saw the tiger in its enclo­sure; pre­vi­ously, there had just been signs up say­ing “Exhibit Closed.” We also ven­tured into the her­petar­ium, in which you can get pretty close to some of the snakes and rep­tiles (see left). A new Children’s Zoo with a play­ground and carousel opened a year or so ago, but we hadn’t real­ized that the area actu­ally houses more ani­mals — a red pan­das, a pair of meerkats, some white cock­a­toos and a huge African porcupine.

Click the pho­tos above for larger ver­sions, or check out the whole gallery here.

CSA Box Number Three

The Contents of Our Third Box

The Con­tents of Our Third Box

This morn­ing, we picked up our third CSA box of the sum­mer. This box was the biggest yet — 3/4 bushel, whereas our pre­vi­ous boxes were only 5/9 bushel. Plus, this time our farm offered basil as an ‘option’ crop, mean­ing that they left a huge box full of it at our pickup loca­tion and said “take as much as you want.” Since I neglected to bring a bag, I lit­er­ally stuffed my pock­ets full of basil. Tomor­row, we’ll make a big batch of pesto and freeze it in single-meal por­tions with the help of a cou­ple of ice cube trays. Our goal is to make enough while basil is in sea­son to make it through the win­ter (we eat lots of pasta).

While we have no doubt what to do with the basil, we’re not so sure about some of the other items. What, if any­thing, can you do with pick­ling cucum­bers other than pickle them? Can the two of us pos­si­bly make it through four reg­u­lar cucum­bers before they go bad? What should we do with beets? Can we find a way to pre­pare our cau­li­flower that we’ll actu­ally like? What’s spe­cial about Cip­polini onions? But, we’ve done pretty well with unfa­mil­iar veg­gies so far, so I’m sure we’ll have some inter­est­ing culi­nary adven­tures this week!

Happy 4th of July!

In honor of Inde­pen­dence Day, here are some shots I took last night of the Elver Park Fire­works dis­play in Madison:

Fireworks Fireworks Fireworks
Fireworks Fireworks Fireworks
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Fireworks Fireworks Fireworks

Click each pic for a larger version

Our First CSA Box

Our First Box

Our First Box

This sum­mer, Veron­ica and I decided to pur­chase a join a CSA (community-supported agri­cul­ture) farm. CSA farms sell shares of their har­vest each year, and mem­bers typ­i­cally receive a box full of fresh, locally-grown, often organic pro­duce each week. Some farms also offer meat, cheese, eggs, honey, etc. Madi­son, in addi­tion to host­ing the largest producers-only farmer’s mar­ket in the coun­try, boasts the Madi­son Area Com­mu­nity Sup­ported Agri­cul­ture Coali­tion (MACSAC), which acts as an advo­cate for 35 area CSA farms.

The Box Opened

The Box Opened

We attended MACSAC’s annual Open House in late March, where we had the oppor­tu­nity to check out most of the par­tic­i­pat­ing farms. One thing we were look­ing for in a farm was the avail­abil­ity of half-shares — we doubted that the two of us could go through a huge box of veg­gies every week with­out waste. There were a num­ber of entic­ing options, and we ended up going with a farm called Dri­f­less Organ­ics. We liked their crop list, which includes can­taloupe, water­melon, straw­ber­ries, and var­i­ous herbs in addi­tion to a plethora of veg­eta­bles. We also like the fact that we could select a pick-up loca­tion that can be seen from our apart­ment. We get an assort­ment of pro­duces every two weeks — a lit­tle more than half a bushel each time.

A Bounty of Veggie

A Bounty of Veggies

Our first box of the sea­son arrived today. As with all CSAs, the selec­tion changes from week to week (or fort­night to fort­night is our case), and you’re never quite sure what you’re going to get each time. That’s half the fun: try­ing to fig­ure out what the heck to do with a veg­etable you with which you have lit­tle to no expe­ri­ence. I knew it was going to be a lot of food, but I was still astounded when I opened our box and spread its con­tents out on the kitchen counter. We got arugula, broc­coli, but­ter­head let­tuce, green onions, green gar­lic, kohlrabi, radishes, rus­set pota­toes, and spinach. Aren’t they gorgeous?

A share in a CSA farm is truly a share — if some­thing goes wrong with the crops, all the mem­bers eat (or rather, don’t eat) the losses. This is where the “community-supported” bit really comes in. If there’s a bad year, CSA farms are pro­tected from going under by their mem­ber­ship. Last year, there was exten­sive flood­ing in Wis­con­sin, which was detri­men­tal to many farm­ers. Here’s hop­ing that severe weather won’t be an issue this sum­mer, and that our boxes will con­tinue to be bountiful!

Front Page News

The UW Lit­tle Big Band had our first con­cert of the semes­ter last night. Appar­ently there was a pho­tog­ra­pher there from The Daily Car­di­nal (one of our two stu­dent papers), because we made the front page today:
Little Big Band

The photo was even taken dur­ing one of my solos! There wasn’t a story attached, and the pic doesn’t seem to be online any­where. But, The Car­di­nal pub­lishes a PDF ver­sion of their paper. I grabbed today’s copy (since there doesn’t seem to be an archive) — you can find it here.

P.S. — I hope to have audio from this con­cert as well as our last one posted soon.

Lady Liberty in the Lake

Just another exam­ple of the cool and bizarre sorts of things that hap­pen in Madi­son: for a cou­ple of weeks now, it’s appeared as though the top of the Statue of Lib­erty is emerg­ing from the frozen sur­face of Lake Men­dota. The instal­la­tion was car­ried out by the UW Hoofers out­door club, and com­mem­o­rates a sim­i­lar (but more finely crafted, in my opin­ion) statue that was placed on the lake 30 years ago. For the full story of the orig­i­nal statue, see this arti­cle (a big­ger pic­ture of the orig­i­nal can be seen here). The head and torch sit on the ice right out­side UW’s Memo­r­ial Union, so you can sit in the Rathskel­lar, sip a beer, and gaze out them. At the moment, the Union’s web­cam is point­ing right at the statue. Check there for a live view (until the ice starts to melt), or check out my small gallery of pics here.

A Response From the Overture Center

A few days ago, I posted a let­ter about my frus­tra­tions with try­ing to buy Flight of the Con­chords Tick­ets. The fol­low­ing day, I received a response from the Over­ture Cen­ter Spokesman. It’s in a com­ment on the pre­vi­ous entry, but I thought I’d re-post it right on the front page:

Hello Dave — Rob Chap­pell, Over­ture Cen­ter spokesman here. You’re obvi­ously not the only one dis­ap­pointed by the way the FotC ticket sale went, so I’d like to try to shed some light on some of the con­cerns that you raise.

The sim­ple fact is that this show sold out very quickly, as pop­u­lar acts often do. We did have some web­site and phone sys­tem issues, how­ever, which we regret.

One rea­son the show sold out so quickly was that Flight of the Con­chords man­age­ment required us to make a pre­sale avail­able to FotC Fan Club mem­bers begin­ning on Mon­day, Feb­ru­ary 2, five days ahead of the gen­eral pub­lic on-sale. We were asked to make 70% of the avail­able tick­ets, or about 1,360 tick­ets, avail­able for this pre­sale. In addi­tion, we made a small pre-sale avail­able to our own email list and the pro­moter ran a pre­sale with one of the media part­ners, radio sta­tion WMMM. Only 250 tick­ets were allot­ted to each of those two pre-sales, which were made avail­able the day before the gen­eral pub­lic on-sale.

You also wanted to know how to get onto those pre­sale lists. The best way is to sign up for our e-list at http://paciolan.myprefs.com/?@overture&p2p=Signup. Join­ing fan clubs of bands or radio sta­tions you like can also help get you on pref­er­en­tial lists for pre-sales.

Any­way, when 11:00 Sat­ur­day morn­ing rolled around, we felt that we had to set aside enough tick­ets to accom­mo­date at least those who were stand­ing in line at 11. Our phone sys­tem was over­whelmed and crashed, a fact that we regret. In the end, only 371 were avail­able to sell through the Inter­net on Sat­ur­day, which didn’t take more than a few min­utes, as you can imagine.

Unfor­tu­nately, ticket resellers were able to pur­chase a num­ber of tick­ets and have sub­se­quently made them avail­able at much-inflated prices, as you note. We do have mea­sures in place to curb this as much as we can. For exam­ple, we’re hold­ing tick­ets in the first 15 rows at the box office and will only give them to the per­son who bought them (and only if that per­son has valid ID). Still, this reselling prac­tice per­vades the live per­for­mance and con­cert indus­try. It is dis­ap­point­ing to venue man­agers like us, to per­form­ers, and, most impor­tantly, to fans. Unfor­tu­nately, at this time, the mea­sures we have in place can only go so far to stop these out­fits from buy­ing tick­ets and reselling them.

We are truly sorry that you and many oth­ers were dis­ap­pointed not to get tickets.

Any­body with ques­tions can con­tact me at rchap­pell at over­ture­cen­ter dot com.

So, as I sus­pected, the pre-sales weren’t all the Over­ture Center’s doing — they had con­trac­tual oblig­a­tions to ful­fill. I still think that if pre-sales are going to eat up a major­ity of the seats for a given show, there should be some sort of gen­eral warn­ing to that effect along­side the notice of when tick­ets offi­cially go on sale. I have joined the e-mail list that Mr. Chap­pell men­tioned, and I sup­pose I’ll try to join fan club mail­ing lists for groups that I want to see in the future. Also, it seems that I would have scored tick­ets if I’d actu­ally gone to the Over­ture Cen­ter to stand in line. So, I guess I’ll do it the old fash­ioned way next time, rather than rely­ing on any tech­no­log­i­cal means to make my purchase.

Ticket Madness

I recently became aware that Flight of the Con­chords will be play­ing at Madison’s Over­ture Cen­ter in late April. I excit­edly took note of the date and time at which ticket sales would begin, as listed on the Center’s web site: Sat­ur­day, Feb­ru­ary 7 at 11 a.m. On the appointed morn­ing, I vis­ited the web site early, set up an account, and fever­ishly waited for 11 o’clock to roll around. As soon as my computer’s clock ticked to 11, I began the pur­chas­ing process. After I’d made all the rel­e­vant selec­tions, I received the some­what cryp­tic mes­sage “Unable to secure seats in this price level.” I made a few more unsuc­cess­ful attempts, and then decided to try call­ing the ticket office. The woman who answered (after I’d been on hold for quite awhile) cheer­fully told me that the show was already sold out. The time was 11:20am, and I expressed my dis­be­lief that every one of Over­ture Hall’s 2,251 seats had been sold in such a brief time. The ticket agent then told me that there had been two pre-sales, and that the tick­ets had all actu­ally sold before 11 — that is, before they offi­cially went on sale. I asked how one finds out about these pre-sales, and she replied sim­ply “I don’t know.”

I under­stand the pro­mo­tional value of mak­ing a small num­ber of tick­ets for an event avail­able to a select group of peo­ple. How­ever, allow­ing an event to sell out before the stated begin­ning of ticket sales is absurd and inex­cus­able. The Over­ture Center’s web site does not con­tain a sin­gle men­tion of (or warn­ing about) pre-sales. Fur­ther­more, at the time I attempted to make my pur­chase, there was no indi­ca­tion that the Flight of the Con­chords show was already sold out. Had this infor­ma­tion been avail­able, I might still be with­out tick­ets, but at least I wouldn’t have rearranged my Sat­ur­day plans around the sup­posed begin­ning of ticket sales or wasted half an hour fran­ti­cally try­ing to make a purchase.

I don’t pre­tend to know the intri­ca­cies of con­tracts between per­form­ers, pro­mot­ers, and venue, so I hes­i­tate to lay the blame for this sit­u­a­tion entirely at the feet of the Over­ture Center’s staff. How­ever, I do fault them for fail­ing to keep their cus­tomers informed. If pre-sales are out­side the Center’s con­trol, they can at least make the gen­eral pub­lic aware that pre-sales are occur­ring. They can also cer­tainly update their web site more quickly to reflect when a per­for­mance has been sold out.

My only option now seems to be pur­chas­ing tick­ets that mem­bers of the ‘select group’ of pre-sale par­tic­i­pants have made avail­able on Craigslist. But at a min­i­mum markup of 200%, they are now well out­side my grad­u­ate stu­dent budget.

I’ve sent a much-shortened ver­sion of this (on my own site, I don’t have to abide by any 200-word lim­its, ha!) to a num­ber of local news out­lets as a let­ter to the edi­tor. If any­thing comes of it, I’ll update this post.

Double Reed Day

Double Reed Day Panoramic Group Shot

This past Sat­ur­day was UW-Madison’s annual Dou­ble Reed Day. We had two guest artists: Carol Cope Lowe (bas­soon) and Anna Hen­drick­son (oboe), who in addi­tion to cur­rently teach­ing at SUNY-Potsdam are both UW-Madison alum­nae. Most mem­bers of the UW dou­ble reed stu­dios were there, and we had another 25 or so mid­dle school, high, school, and com­mu­nity play­ers as well. I arrived a lit­tle early so I could play some of the bas­soons and bocals that Mid­west Musi­cal Imports had sent along. One instru­ment they sent was the twin of my Püch­ner 5000C. I was happy to find that it was both my favorite instru­ment out of the bunch, and roughly equiv­a­lent to my own. Also, its price tag was sub­stan­tially higher than what I paid two years ago — woohoo!

The day offi­cially started with a con­cert — all we UW stu­dents played an ensem­ble piece, then each pro­fes­sor (the two vis­i­tors, plus our own Marc Val­lon and Marc Fink) per­formed a solo work. Fol­low­ing the con­cert, we split off into oboe and bas­soon mas­ter­classes. We all came back together for a big dou­ble reed ensem­ble (pic­tured above) to play Marc Vallon’s arrange­ments of “The Wash­ing­ton Post,” Hun­gar­ian Dance No. 5, and “Sabre Dance,” as well as the first move­ment of Handel’s Music for the Royal Fire­works.

I only man­aged to take a few pic­tures, as I was busy play­ing con­tra­bas­soon much of the time. I’ve posted them here.

Zoo Run

Swimming Bear

Swim­ming Bear

A lit­tle over a month ago, Veron­ica par­tic­i­pated in the Zoo Run, a char­ity 5K/10K run/walk ben­e­fit­ing Madison’s Henry Vilas Zoo. I tagged along to pro­vide moral sup­port and to hang out at the zoo while she ran. We arrived at the zoo fairly early, so we had some time to walk around and look at the ani­mals. Most of them were just wak­ing up them­selves, and weren’t very active. A notable excep­tion to this was one of the polar bears. He (I’m mak­ing an assump­tion based on size) was pass­ing time by swim­ming laps in a small pool within his enclo­sure. A small water­fall pours into the pool, and he seemed to like swim­ming under that on his back. Upon reach­ing the other end, he’d swim back under­wa­ter and repeat the process. Only once did we see him get out, and the only briefly. He shook off some water, walked around a bit, then did a belly slide back into the pool for some more laps. I’d like to think that the bear looked happy as he was glid­ing through the water, but I can’t imag­ine that such obses­sive behav­ior is a sign of good men­tal health.

Standing Flamingos

Stand­ing Flamingos

I watched the begin­ning of the race, then went back to wan­der the zoo. By this time, the ani­mals were becom­ing a lit­tle more active. I walked by the polar bears again, and the big one was still swim­ming. I also stopped by the giraffes, pen­guins, flamin­gos, and a few oth­ers. The lions were asleep in a secluded part of their enclo­sure, and none of the other big cats were on dis­play. I didn’t have a whole lot of time, so I didn’t ven­ture into the aviary, the rep­tile house, or any of the other enclosed exhibits.

Running Librarian

Run­ning Librarian

I thought that I’d timed my mean­der­ings so that I’d arrive at the fin­ish line a few min­utes before Veron­ica (the race route formed a loop, so I had far less dis­tance to travel than did she). But, she beat her goal time by so much that I missed her! I man­aged to snap a few pic­tures close to the start of the race, but unfor­tu­nately none at the end. After the race, we went home for some from-scratch blue­berry pan­cakes, which she’d cer­tainly earned (and which I cer­tainly hadn’t). Click any of the pic­tures above to see the whole gallery.

Coffin Trailer

Spot­ted on cam­pus this Saturday:

Click for more photos

I sus­pect that this was related to Geek.Kon, which was going on all week­end in the UW Human­i­ties Build­ing (which we musi­cians share with his­to­ri­ans, artists, and schol­ars of the Abra­hamic reli­gions), but I’m not sure of that. Appar­ently this isn’t a unique idea; I found a cou­ple of other exam­ples here and here. I kind of wish I’d been around to see the biker’s arrival or depar­ture, to see what (or who?) rides in the coffin.

Free Pizza!

Walk­ing around the UW cam­pus, one is con­stantly bom­barded by adver­tise­ments for all sorts of things, rang­ing from the com­mer­cial (new restau­rants, bar drink spe­cials, coupon books) to the social (fra­ter­ni­ties and soror­i­ties, intra­mural sports, stu­dent clubs of all sorts) to the reli­gious (reg­u­lar appear­ances by Men­non­ites, Hasidic Jews, and fire-and-brimstone Bible-thumpers) to the polit­i­cal (Democ­rats, Repub­li­cans, anti-war, pro-China, anti-China). These ads often appear in the form of fly­ers, picket signs, wear­able sandwich-boards, ban­ners, or good old-fashioned soap­box ora­tion. By far the most preva­lent (and least annoy­ing, in my opin­ion) form of adver­tis­ing on cam­pus is chalking.

It is not uncom­mon, as I walk from the library or music build­ing to the bus stop late at night, to see peo­ple car­ry­ing around buck­ets of brightly-colored side­walk chalk, stop­ping every few feet to claim another blank area of pave­ment. These sorts of ads are usu­ally fairly sim­ple, owing to the nec­es­sar­ily one-at-a-time method of cre­ation as well as to the ephemeral nature of chalk — indeed, of most things that are tramped upon by thou­sands of feet through­out the course of a day. Occa­sion­ally the chalk­ing becomes more ambi­tious; a num­ber of 20-foot wide peace sym­bols come to mind.

Near the end of the spring semes­ter, I spot­ted what is def­i­nitely my favorite bit of chalk­ing so far. It was done on the wall of a build­ing, and par­o­dies so well the style and tone of other more seri­ous chalk advertisements:

Death Star Chalk Ad
Click for a larger version

Jeopardy!

Yes­ter­day after­noon, Veron­ica and I went to a tap­ing of the Jeop­ardy Col­lege Cham­pi­onship at UW’s Kohl Cen­ter. I’d been excited about Jeop­ardy com­ing to cam­pus since it was announced some­time last fall. I’d ini­tially hoped to audi­tion for the col­lege shows, but only under­grads are eli­gi­ble. Bah. Oh well, see­ing the show live was lots of fun, any­way. We attended the last of four tap­ings (con­ducted over the space of two days), so we got to see the two final games of the tour­na­ment. It was very inter­est­ing to see how a game show is filmed and how many peo­ple are involved in putting it on.

As we entered the arena, we were handed shiny Jeop­ardy pom-poms and tow­els to wave for the ben­e­fit of the cam­eras as we cheered. Once basi­cally every­one was seated (there were roughly 3500 peo­ple in atten­dance), we got to watch the con­tes­tants play a quick prac­tice round. Then the show’s 83-year-old announcer Johnny Gilbert took the stage and told us a bit about how the tap­ing would pro­ceed, what our cues to applaud were, and when to be quiet. He warned us that if any­one yelled out an answer, they’d have to stop tap­ing, dis­qual­ify the clue, and start again with a sub­sti­tute clue. Amaz­ingly, this never happened.

Our View of the Set

The shows them­selves were fun to watch, but the best part of the whole expe­ri­ence was the com­mer­cial breaks. Dur­ing these, Alex Tre­bek would wan­der the aisles, answer­ing ques­tions posed by audi­ence mem­bers and telling sto­ries. He’s really quite funny, and was obvi­ously play­ing to the col­lege audi­ence. When asked what he plans to do if he ever retires from the show, he started walk­ing back to the stage and replied “I’ve thought about found­ing a char­i­ta­ble orga­ni­za­tion of some sort, to try and do some good in the world.” Only when he’d almost reached his podium did he add “… or maybe I’ll just stay home and drink.”

This Morning, By the Numbers

Dis­tance from my apart­ment to the UW Human­i­ties Build­ing: 3.1 miles
Aver­age travel time via the num­ber 9 bus: 17 min­utes
Time bus boarded this morn­ing: 9:20 a.m.
Time spent on the bus: 1 hour 5 min­utes
Dis­tance trav­eled: 1.1 miles
Dis­tance walked: 2.0 miles
Time spent walk­ing: 35 min­utes
Out­side tem­per­a­ture dur­ing walk: 8°F
Buses passed while on foot: 4
Classes missed: 1
Hooray for snow, ice, and a short­age of road salt.

How to Get a Practice Room

Steps in gain­ing access to a prac­tice room at most music schools:

  1. Find empty prac­tice room.
  2. Prac­tice.

Steps in gain­ing access to a prac­tice room at UW-Madison:

  1. Click through mul­ti­ple lev­els of the UW School of Music web­site to find the online prac­tice room application.
  2. Login with your UW NetID.
  3. Deter­mine which ‘color’ of prac­tice room access is right for you.
  4. Com­plete online application.
  5. Go to cashier’s win­dow in stu­dent union to add money to your Wis­card account, because the School of Music does not accept credit/debit cards or cash.
  6. Go back to cashier’s win­dow, because you real­ize that you only added enough money for a one-semester fee, but you spec­i­fied a two-semester term on the online application.
  7. Go to music office to pay, find out that your request hasn’t yet been approved.
  8. Find facil­i­ties man­ager, get him to approve request.
  9. Go back to music office, shell out $95 for the priv­i­lege of prac­tic­ing in tiny rooms for the fall and spring semesters.
  10. Go to key desk.
  11. Pro­vided that the rooms aren’t all full, trade stu­dent ID for prac­tice room key.
  12. Prac­tice.

Granted, I could have avoided a cou­ple of those steps if I’d been a lit­tle more on top of things. But, that’s still a hell of a lot to go through just to be able to practice.

Gilbert and Sullivan

A num­ber of the orga­ni­za­tions I’ve played gigs for in Wis­con­sin have been less than prompt with their pay­ment. One orches­tra didn’t pay for an entire con­cert series until after the rehearsals for the next series had started — almost a month later. My wood­wind quin­tet played a pro­gram for a senior cen­ter in Stoughton, WI for which we had to wait almost five months to receive our checks.
One notable excep­tion is a gig that wrapped up yes­ter­day evening. For the three weeks or so, I’ve been involved in rehearsals and per­for­mances for the Madi­son Savo­yards’ annual Gilbert and Sul­li­van pro­duc­tion. This summer’s show was the single-act Cox and Box (actu­ally Bur­nand and Sul­li­van) paired with The Sor­cerer. Even though Cox and Box is short, the whole show ran about three hours. This meant that the two dress rehearsals ran to almost four hours apiece — much longer than we’d been led to believe they’d be.
But, the Savo­yards exec­u­tive board came through. Not only did we receive our checks before the last per­for­mance, but we’d each been paid the equiv­a­lent of an extra ser­vice to make up for our over­time. Bravo, Madi­son Savo­yards! Many orga­ni­za­tions would have sim­ply cited con­trac­tual loop­holes — it’s nice to play for a group that truly shows respect for its musi­cians. (The giant bag of choco­late in the pit this week­end didn’t hurt, either).