Dissonance

Looking at a keyboard, we see a compromise. The notes in our Western scale are derived from Pythagoras's "pure" ratios, but these pure ratios do not fit neatly into a twelve-note system. D-sharp is not really the same note as E-flat, nor is E-sharp really the same as F, and so on. Thus, Western music has had to compromise, resulting in intervals that are almost pure, but not exactly. Modern equal temperament, for example, is based on the square root of 12, not a pretty number at all, but close enough for our ears. In this system, the only pure ratio is the octave. The result of these impure ratios is more dissonance.

Italian composers in the 17th Century were not happy with this compromise, however, and began composing music for instruments with more than 12 notes to the octave. One instrument is the cimbalo cromatico, a harpsichord that has 31 notes per octave.

Take a listen to this "uncompromising" music. I think I like music with more dissonance better. All those pure ratios, oddly, make me feel dizzy and uneasy.

Late Bloomers

Some perennials wait until the end to bloom. Such are Lion's Tail (Leonotis leonurus) and Salvia 'Anthony Parker'. All summer long these two gradually grow to become 3-to-5-foot leafy balls, and then in September explode in flower.

Lion's tail is a member of the mint family from Africa. It is naturally pollinated by the African equivalent of hummingbirds, which I believe are called sunbirds. Our hummingbirds want nothing to do with them, however, though butterflies love them. I've read before that lion's tail can be smoked and it's like a milder form of cannabis, though I have no intention of trying.

Lion's tail (Leonotis leonurus)

I love when the sun back-lights these.

Salvia 'Anthony Parker' is a hybrid between pineapple sage (Salvia elegans) and Mexican bush sage (Salvia leucantha). This is my first year growing it, so I'm unsure how it will survive winter. However, both parents (which are also excellent fall-blooming sages) survive most winters here, so I'm confident in 'Anthony Parker'. The flowers are most vibrant in morning, withering somewhat in the heat of the day. Bumblebees love it and often sleep on it overnight. Unlike pineapple sage, the leaves have no fragrance.

Salvia 'Anthony Parker', Salvia greggii in background

I found a velvet ant crossing a gravel path. When I was a kid, velvet ants were my favorite insects. They aren't actually ants, but a kind of wasp, and the females have no wings. They walk very fast and supposedly have painful stings.

The Iconic Jonquil

Bulb planting season is just around the corner. I've been digging around my mom's yard, redoing her flower beds, and in the process unearthed hundreds of daffodil bulbs. 

I was amazed by a daffodil called 'Trevithian'. I first bought 30 of these bulbs eight years ago. This year I dug up about 400. I've given some away in the past, which means the population might have grown to 500 or 600.

Narcissus 'Trevithian'

'Trevithian' is a special kind of daffodil. It belongs to the division Jonquilla, the jonquils. These daffodils descend from Narcissus jonquilla and other closely-related species from the Iberian peninsula.

Jonquils usually have from 1-3 flowers per stem, rounded, rushlike foliage, and a strong, sweet fragrance. Jonquils are also among the most successful and prolific daffodils in the Deep South. In fact, driving along a rural highway in February and March, you're likely to find them growing in roadside ditches and abandoned lots.

Narcissus jonquilla var. jonquilla, which blooms late.

Narcissus jonquilla var. henriquesii, which blooms early.

Some Narcissus jonquilla var. henriquesii bulbs I grew from seed.

To me, the jonquil is an iconic, legendary flower. It embodies the idea of a people and a place. I am fascinated in all aspects of this plant.

'Trevithian', technically speaking, is a triploid jonquil hybrid, meaning that it has three sets of chromosomes instead of the usual two. This causes the plant to be (mostly) infertile (the reproductive cells cannot divide normally), more vigorous, and more robust (every cell is larger to accommodate the extra set of chromosomes). Most Jonquil cultivars are triploid, caused by crossing tetraploid (4 sets of chromosomes) standard daffodils with N. jonquilla and allies, which are diploid (2 sets of chromosomes).

'Trevithian' in twilight

Another jonquil I've grown is 'Hillstar'. 'Hillstar' is special among jonquil cultivars in that it is tetraploid, and therefore fertile. This means that 'Hillstar' can be crossed with other fertile daffodils to produce fertile offspring. It is therefore useful in breeding. I also like 'Hillstar' because it's a reverse bicolor. The petals are yellow and the corona becomes white as the flower ages. It blooms a few weeks later than 'Trevithian'.

If you look closely at the photos, you see 'Hillstar' has anthers with developed pollen whereas 'Trevithian' and 'Bell Song' (below) do not.

Narcissus 'Hillstar'

Another jonquil I've grown is 'Bell Song'. Like 'Trevithian', it's triploid, but it blooms at the end of the season and is not very prolific (none of the pink daffodils are in the South, as far as I know). Still, it comes back reliably every year.

Narcissus 'Bell Song'

This year I've decided to test out many other jonquil cultivars, including some white, pink, and orange ones. I'll hopefully have some nice photos and reviews by next spring.

Klavierbüchlein for Wilhelm Friedemann

J.S. Bach made a keyboard music book for his eldest son, the Klavierbüchlein for Wilhelm Friedemann Bach. In it are several early versions of preludes found in the Well-Tempered Clavier. The first prelude, in C major, is one of Bach's most famous pieces, and the piece that initially attracted me to harpsichord music when I was a teenager. The early version found here, performed by Christophe Rousset, is dreamy and mesmerizing, and seems to end abruptly if you're used to the later version. I can't get enough. And then there's the prelude in c minor which follows it, and the transition couldn't be more jolting. This is harpsichord performance at its most expressive. A masterpiece.

Too bad some of Christophe Rousset's CDs are in the $40-$50 range.

Upbeat and Apocalyptic

On the way to work, I listened on repeat to the prelude and fugue in f minor from Bach's Well Tempered Clavier, Book II. If I recall correctly, during the Baroque era, f minor was considered the most somber key. As Wikipedia has it: "Schubart described this key as 'Deep depression, funereal lament, groans of misery and longing for the grave.'" I don't know who Schubart is, but I like his description.

Bach's prelude and fugue in f minor elicit complex emotions in me. The pieces are upbeat, playful, and - with the prelude - almost silly. And yet I have the impression of impending or actual Doom.

The prelude, as I imagine it, portrays the eve of the end of the world. Two birds perched on a power line tweet at each other under an evil sky. The subject suffers bouts of denial and merry delusions interspersed with awakening realizations of immanent doom. As the prelude reaches its end, the subject gradually comes to face and accept his fate.

The fugue is the apocalypse itself. Each angel pours out his bowl of wrath in turn. Fire rains from heaven; oceans boil; the parched earth ignites; the bowels of the earth spew molten rock. God has brought his judgment and wrath upon the wicked world. Yet, there is a catharsis as the anticipated doom of the prelude actualizes. The end has come. The worst has arrived. The judgment has been delivered. The subject receives the privilege of seeing the world and his wicked self through the eyes and wisdom of God, and declares that God is just.

The theme of this piece, as it speaks to me, is the recognition of sin and evil within oneself and the wrath incurred, and the celebration of God's judgment and victory over evil. It is a call to repentance and sobriety, a call to acceptjust punishment due to one's evil actions.