This brisk barnstormer was part of my show of the same name, back in 1984.

My first solo show in NYC, Pay Attention, was produced at the American Place Theatre in 1984, as part of their American Humorists Series.  The New York Times was rather sanguine about it, which was a relief.

My fourth string quartet consists of chorales, fourteen of them. Some of my concerns here were chromatic voice leading, suspensions as concords, and extended chords implied with four voices. Here’s the first one.

Finally, these two images are conflated.  It’s about time.

My adaptation of Collodi’s immortal Pinocchio was part of my 1985 show, An Attractive Production. My version included a ukulele, books, water, melon balls, a rubber fish, and irrelevant slides. Eddie Gray was cast as Pinocchio, much to his dismay. The incomparable Helen Dannenberg made a splendid Blue Fairy. I, of course, was Geppetto. These rehearsal photos are by Tom Brazil.

I’ve long been intrigued by the supposed liquefaction of the blood of St. Januarius in Naples. Part of the purpose of this article was to debunk the common notion of a clash between religion and science; since the “miracle” (as the Vatican is eager to stress) has nothing to do with Catholic doctrine, and the proposed explanations are not testable.

The article appeared in the July 2006 issue of Fate. But you can read it, since someone has posted the whole thing over here…

These seven songs were written in 1999. I was particularly interested in setting metered verse with changing meters, and in a rich two-part texture. Many of them were, inevitably, concerned with loss, given the recent death of my father, and my mother’s declining health (she died shortly afterward).

The seven songs are:

“Calico Pie” by Edward Lear: on the birds, fish, and mice, who “never came back to me.”

“True Love” by Walter Ralegh: a particularly intense lyric by that intense gentleman, closing with “true loue is a durable fyre in the mynde euer burnynge; neuer sycke, neuer ould, neuer dead, from itt selfe neuer turnyng.”

“Written in Disgust of Vulgar Superstition” by John Keats: a denunciation of religion, and a hope for its demise.

“Sonnet 28” by Giles Fletcher the Elder: a sweet song from one of the earliest English sonneteers, set here as a canon with shifting meters.

“Ed Kistner” by Ed Kistner: an undertaker’s ad from 1925, reminding potential customers that “Ed Kistner is a very kind-hearted man, to him you can always appeal. He goes and gets his corpses at very high speed, riding in his big automobile…”

“The Silly Bee” by Robert Devereux: a bitter Elizabethan fable of disappointment at court.

“To Electra” by Robert Herrick:  a brief address to the absent lover, “to kisse that aire, that lately kissed thee.”

In the early ’80s, Bill Irwin, Michael O’Connor and I sometimes worked together under the name “Murdoch.” I don’t remember where the name came from; I think Bill may have dreamed it. In 1981, Bill and I played a run at the Mickery theater in Amsterdam under that name. The photos were by Bob van Dantzig; the program is below.