Caturday felid: Ketzel the composing cat

December 29, 2012 • 6:20 am

When we were crusading for Henri’s installation on the Wikipedia page of famous cats, an alert reader, M. Janello, pointed out a famous cat that was unknown to me. It was Ketzel, a Jewish cat who was the owner of Aliya Cheskis-Kotel and her husband Morris Moshe Kotel. Kotel was the chairperson of composition at the Peabody School of Music in Baltimore.  Ketzel became famous when, well, I’ll let her hilarious (albeit sad) obituary in the New York Times (“Noted composer, who leapt into atonality, meows her last“; July 18, 2011) tell the tail:

Ms. Cheskis-Cotel’s husband, who died in 2008, was Morris Moshe Cotel, who retired as chairman of the composition department at the Peabody Conservatory in 2000 and became a rabbi. “He said she [Ketzel] was his best student and her fame surpassed his,” Ms. Cheskis-Cotel said.

Ketzel (“cat” in Yiddish) was a one-hit wonder among composers — she never wrote another piece. And her career was launched only because she launched herself onto the keyboard of Professor Cotel’s Baldwin grand one morning in 1996.

He was playing a prelude and fugue from “The Well-Tempered Clavier” by Bach, as he did every morning — he worked his way through a different prelude and fugue each day, as a kind of warmup exercise.

On the morning in question, Ketzel leapt onto the piano, landing in the treble. She worked her way down to the bass. Professor Cotel was startled, but grabbed a pencil and started transcribing. He was impressed by the “structural elegance” of what he heard, Ms. Cheskis-Cotel said. “He said, ‘This piece has a beginning, a middle and an end. How can this be? It’s written by a cat.’”

It was a model of brevity, shorter than Leroy Anderson’s “Waltzing Cat” or Zez Confrey’s “Kitten on the Keys.” But Professor Cotel set it aside — until he received an announcement seeking entries for the Paris New Music Review’s One-Minute Competition, open to pieces no more than 60 seconds long. “He said, ‘I don’t have anything that’s less than 60 seconds and my students don’t,’” Ms. Cheskis-Cotel recalled, ” ‘but I’ll send in the piece by the cat.’”

Professor Cotel explained the composer’s identity in the entry, but the judges were not told that; they were shown only the music. They awarded “Piece for Piano, Four Paws” a special mention.

“We gave the piece serious consideration because it was quite well written,” Guy Livingston, co-founder and editor of the review, said in 1997. “It reminded us of Anton Webern. If Webern had a cat, this is what Webern’s cat would have written.”

KetzelMay she rest in peace
Ketzel
May she rest in peace

Ketzel lived to a ripe 19 years of age. The Times piece, which you should read, is certainly the funniest obituary I’ve ever seen in the Times:

Ketzel’s piece had its concert premiere at Peabody in 1998 and was later performed in Europe and heard on public radio. And once it was performed at the Museum of the City of New York, with the composer in attendance.

“I said, ‘I’m bringing Ketzel to the performance,’ ” Ms. Cheskis-Cotel recalled. “They said, ‘No, you’re not.’ ”

But she did.

Ketzel’s composition was the next-to-last piece on a two-hour program. Ketzel sat quietly in her carrier in a back row as the big moment approached.

“Finally, when it was time for her piece to be performed,” Ms. Cheskis-Cotel said, “the pianist announced, ‘The next piece, believe it or not, was written by Ketzel the Cat.’ From the back of the hall, Ketzel went, ‘Yeeeowww.’ The people were on the floor, but of course she knew her name.”

Ketzel got royalties for her music, too! The Times notes:

. . . like many other musicians — Midori, Liberace, Mantovani and Madonna, for example — Ketzel went by only one name, except when the occasional royalty check came in. The first, for $19.72, was for a performance in Rotterdam. The check was made out to “Ketzel Cotel.”

“We thought, how are we going to cash this?” recalled her owner, Aliya Cheskis-Cotel. “Luckily, at the bank, they knew my husband and knew our credit was good, and they allowed us to cash it. We told Ketzel we could buy a lot of yummy cat food for $19.72.”

Here, from YouTube, is Ketzel’s prize-winning composition. This is 20 seconds long, but a 34-second version—perhaps the one that won the prize—can be heard on the Times page, at the audio link under Ketzel’s picture.

Now I know we have some accomplished musicians and music lovers among the readers; perhaps they can judge the merits of Ketzel’s composition.

I can haz one of these, plz?

December 28, 2012 • 1:51 pm

Your host is catless and will have a birthday in two days.  An appropriate gift for the last day of Koynezaa is what I consider the world’s most beautiful felid. Here’s its larval stage: a living hairball.

Otocolobus manul
Otocolobus manul

It’s a Pallas’s cat (or kitten), also known as the manul. At least I’m pretty sure it is based on the small ears, eye stripes, and long fur. See moar of them here.

UPDATE: Reader six45ive noted this video in the comments, but I’ll paste the whole thing in here. It shows 7-week-old Pallas kittens:

Krauss on God and Newtown

December 28, 2012 • 12:37 pm

Several readers have sent me this (thanks!), so perhaps you’re all aware of it already. But if you’re not, do read Lawrence Krauss’s CNN Opinion piece on the pervasiveness of religion after the Newtown school massacre, “Why must the nation grieve with God?” I was appalled at the official faithfest that followed the killings, with one person after another, including Obama, trying to console the grieving by assuring everyone that the murdered children were in heaven. Even Obama, whose talk was otherwise very good, had to end with these words:

“’Let the little children come to me,’ Jesus said, ‘and do not hinder them – for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven.’

“Charlotte. Daniel. Olivia. Josephine. Ana. Dylan. Madeleine. Catherine. Chase. Jesse. James. Grace. Emilie. Jack. Noah. Caroline. Jessica. Benjamin. Avielle. Allison.

“God has called them all home. For those of us who remain, let us find the strength to carry on, and make our country worthy of their memory.

“May God bless and keep those we’ve lost in His heavenly place. May He grace those we still have with His holy comfort. And may He bless and watch over this community, and the United States of America.”

We all know that the little children are not at “home,” nor with Jesus (and were all the children Christians?), and I deplore the ritual prayer for God to bless the U.S.

Krauss’s call for reason was something that badly needed to be said, with few people bold enough to say it.

I swear that as time passes, Krauss gets more and more “strident,” as the accommodationists put it. He once seemed mild, almost conciliatory, on faith and science, but that all ended with his book, A Universe from Nothing, which spent a lot of time going after theologians (in fact,  too much for even my taste).  Krauss’s naturalism has become uncompromising now, and is eloquently shown by this timely piece. A few excerpts:

But why must the nation grieve with God? After Newtown, a memorial service was held in which 10 clergy and Obama offered Hebrew, Christian and Muslim prayers, with the president stating: ” ‘Let the little children come to me,’ Jesus said, ‘and do not hinder them. For such belongs to the kingdom of Heaven.’ God has called them all home. For those of us who remain, let us find the strength to carry on.”

Why must it be a natural expectation that any such national tragedy will be accompanied by prayers, including from the president, to at least one version of the very God, who apparently in his infinite wisdom, decided to call 20 children between the age of 6 and 7 home by having them slaughtered by a deranged gunman in a school that one hopes should have been a place of nourishment, warmth and growth?

We are told the Lord works in mysterious ways but, for many people, to suggest there might be an intelligent deity who could rationally act in such a fashion and that that deity is worth praying to and thanking for “calling them home” seems beyond the pale.

. . . But the question that needs to be asked is why, as a nation, do we have to institutionalize the notion that religion must play a central role at such times, with the president as the clergyman-in-chief?

. . .Why does television automatically turn to clergy for advice on how to meet our needs, spiritual or otherwise?

Later on television, I saw media Rabbi Shmuley Boteach, who used to claim to be the personal spiritual guide of Michael Jackson, until that presumably became less sellable. I also once had the displeasure of debating him on the subject of evolution, which he essentially rejects, offering admonition to those who, with very good reason, may question a God who could willingly allow the slaughter of children. I would argue that times like these are very good times to question your faith in deities. . .

If instead of automatically assuming that prayers to a deity callous enough to allow this sickness, or worse, to encourage it out of divine retribution, are what families in grief need from their president and from the media, that we focused on rational grief counseling and community support, including better mental health care combined with sensible gun control, we as a society might ultimately act more effectively to stop this madness.

Indeed.  I had a conversation last night with a friend, and we discussed the problem of evil. Although she questions the existence of God, she maintained that the free-will explanation for evils (i.e., “God gave humans free will, and with that came the possibility that they would do immoral deeds”) was a good one.  But of course that defense cannot apply in the case of sufferings not caused by human action, including the sufferings of children with cancer and the mass slaughter of people by tsunamis and earthquakes.

There are 6402 comments, a good cross-section of American conversation on faith.  And it’s heartening that there are many nonbelievers among those commenting (of course, this is CNN).  Here’s one exchange:

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Keith Kloor lumps me with Dawkins as sneering, strident, and simplistic

December 28, 2012 • 7:40 am

Until yesterday I didn’t know who Keith Kloor was, but I found out when someone called my attention the fact that Kloor, in a post on his Discover blog (yes, it’s a blog), had lumped me together with Dawkins as a “fundamentalist atheist.” I take that as a huge compliment!

Kloor, it turns out, is a science journalist who was once a senior editor at Audubon magazine and now teaches journalism at New York University. And he’s angry.

The aim of Kloor’s post, “The poisoned debates between science, politics, and religion” is to be conciliatory, both between those who support opposite political positions using science (e.g., on questions of climate change or genetically engineered animals) and those who favor or oppose the comity between science and faith.  “Why can’t we all get along?” is his theme, and Kloor hopes to position himself as the protagonist of the famous xkcd cartoon: as superior to both sides.

I’ll leave aside the science debates and reiterate what Kloor says about “fundamentalist” atheists.  It’s the usual “I’m an atheist, but. . ” argument:

The other big argument waged by a vocal group of prominent scientists involves the assertion that science is incompatible with religion. This insistence by the likes of Richard Dawkins and Jerry Coyne is a puzzler. As someone who dislikes dogma of any kind and distrusts vested powers, I’m no fan of institutional religion. I’m also an atheist. But I see no value in making an enemy of virtually the whole world. What’s more, an argument that lumps together the Taliban, the Dali Lama, and Jesus strikes me as rather simplistic. The atheists who frequently disparage religion for all its faults don’t dare acknowledge that it has any redeeming value, or that it provides some meaning for those who can’t (or aren’t yet ready) to derive existential meaning from reason alone.

First of all, we’re not making an enemy of the whole world—only those religious people who cannot tolerate the merest criticism of their faith. I don’t think, for instance, that Karl Giberson, whom I go after repeatedly (and who goes after me in turn) is my “enemy.”  We’re both civil enough to know that this is a debate about belief and reason, and we have respect for each other as people.  Let us also remember that those who spearheaded the drives for civil rights and for women’s rights were once “making enemies of the whole world.”  Presumably Kloor would have cautioned the early suffragettes to stifle themselves, as they were making enemies of almost everyone.  Every moral advance in this world begins with a small minority of vocal people.

Further, by saying that people like Dawkins and me are lumping together all religions as equally pernicious, Kloor reveals himself as abysmally ignorant. Neither of us, nor any of the New Atheists, have done that: we all recognize that there are degrees of perniciousness among the faiths.  For example, I’ve often said that I have little beef with the Amish and Quakers compared with Muslims or conservative Catholics.  I decry faith to the degree that its adherents try to impose their views on the rest of us.  Now many of us do criticize the more “moderate” religions for enabling the extremist ones, or for trying to impose their own unsubstantiated views on the rest of us through the political process.

Kloor is creating strawmen here. Has he even read with any care the writings of Dawkins, or what I post on this site? His arguments resemble those of Peter Higgs, which we discussed yesterday. Indeed, Kloor affiliates himself with Higgs.

Further, few of us deny that religion provides consolation or a form of “meaning” for people. It does. It isn’t totally pernicious, and it does inspire charitable works. What I maintain—I can’t speak for Richard here, but believe he’d agree—is that those good acts would occur just as often in societies lacking religion (at least they seem to in atheistic Scandinavia), and, on balance, religion is a harmful thing.  Further, the “meaning” derived from faith is a false meaning, consoling as it may be. It is the consolation of the drunkard. What does it mean to spend your whole life working towards heaven, or avoiding hell, when there isn’t any? Wouldn’t it be better to work at making this life better?

Finally, plenty of nonbelievers have no problem in deriving “existential meaning” from a finite existence. If they’re “not yet ready” to do that, as Kloor argues, we’ll help them.

Kloor goes on to make other ridiculous claims about the the “sneering and strident” approach of New Atheists:

This sneering and strident approach by the religion haters is not just bad manners, it is puritanical. That’s what scientist Peter Higgs (of Higgs Boson fame) is getting at with his recent sharp criticism of Dawkins.

Really?  Kloor does not, of course, give any examples of the sneering and stridency, and that’s par for the course. But puritanical? It is the faithful, not the atheists, who denigrate earthly pleasures and take a ludicrously puritanical attitude toward sex. That’s a serious downside to many faiths. Kloor goes on:

In an interview with a Spanish newspaper that the Guardian reports, Higgs said this:

What Dawkins does too often is to concentrate his attack on fundamentalists. But there are many believers who are just not fundamentalists. Fundamentalism is another problem. I mean, Dawkins in a way is almost a fundamentalist himself, of another kind.

This will no doubt incite the equivalent of hockey fights in the various atheist rinks of the blogosphere. Get your popcorn ready. That’s essentially what our big scientific debates amount to these days: Rip roaring entertainment and blood sport.

It’s not entertainment at all, Mr. Kloor. Our writings and actions are sincere attempts to rid the world of one of its greatest evils: religion. The stuff about “popcorn” and “hockey fights”—now that is sneering.  So often those who decry us for stridency and rudeness are worse than we are in those respects.

Enfin:

In one of his recent broadsides against religious faith, Jerry Coyne wrote:

Religion is not just the enemy of rationality, but the enemy of democracy.

I think that intolerance may also be considered an enemy of democracy. Fundamentalism, whatever its guise, is certainly the antithesis of science.

Whoa, there’s that accusation of “fundamentalism” again!  What, exactly, is fundamentalist about noting the evils of faith? As for my statement being the antithesis of science, I don’t understand that argument at all. What I said about the incompatibility of religion and democracy is not antiscientific in any sense. (If you want antiscientific, look at the real fundamentalists, where the term is correctly used to denote those adhering to the literalism of Scripture.)  There are good arguments to be made that the ideology and dogma of religion are truly inimical to democracy, which, ideally, should be based on free argument, open minds, and rationality. To see such an argument in extenso, read Eric MacDonald’s post from Choice in Dying: “The incompatibility of democracy and religion.

People like Kloor really irritate me in the same way that “moderate” believers irritate me. By sucking up to faith, and decrying those who question its tenets, they are, to paraphrase Sam Harris, “betraying faith and reason equally.”  There’s nothing wrong with standing up prominently for what you believe, so long as you keep before you the goal of denigrating ideas and ideologies rather than people. Kloor has chosen to denigrate the people.

The wonders of space

December 28, 2012 • 6:08 am

Over at Slate, Phil Plait has published a stunning series of 21 photos in “The best astronomy images of 2012.” While it doesn’t quite come up to “The best cats of 2012,” which will appear December 31, the photos are truly amazing.  I will put up only five, but you owe it to yourself to head over to Slate, gawk at the photos, and, especially, read the captions, without which the images lose considerable force. I’m made the pictures as big as I can. Thanks, Phil!

Oh, and when you read the captions, remember all the scientific work that went into figuring out not only how to visualize these things, but especially to interpret what we’re seeing, which is what really makes the magic. No other species can do anything close (though humans can’t crack filberts with their teeth).

Monster in the Middle (all captions by Plait), a black hole sucking stuff in and pushing stuff away:

Deep in the heart of the galaxy Hercules A is a monster black hole. Vast amounts of material are falling into it, swirling in a disk that’s heated to millions of degrees. The disk is so hot in the center that material wants to expand violently and blow away. Magnetism, friction, and other forces focus that expanding material into twin beams which blast out of the poles of the disk with such speed and ferocity that they travel for hundreds of thousands of light years before finally slowing down and puffing out into twin lobes of matter. This image is a combination of observations from the Hubble Space Telescope—which shows the galaxy Hercules A, stars, and background galaxies—and the Karl G. Jansky Very Large Array, which detects the radio waves emitted by the jets and lobes. The structure is well over a million light years end-to-end, but what else would you expect from an object whose central engine is a black hole with 2.5 billion times the Sun’s mass?

NASA, ESA, S. Baum and C. O'Dea (RIT), R. Perley and W. Cotton (NRAO/AUI/NSF), and the Hubble Heritage Team (STScI/AURA).

NASA, ESA, S. Baum and C. O’Dea (RIT), R. Perley and W. Cotton (NRAO/AUI/NSF), and the Hubble Heritage Team (STScI/AURA).

The Chaos of Creation: a star nursery

30 Doradus is another vast star-forming factory, and this image is Hubble’s view of it. You’d never guess it’s located about 170,000 light years away, 25 times the distance to the Carina Nebula! 30 Dor is one of the largest stellar nurseries known, with some estimates of it having more than 100,000 stars inside. It’s ridiculously complex, as you can tell if you get the 4,000 x 3,000 pixel image, and most certainly if you get the monster 20,000 x 16,000 pixel one. That one will keep you busy for a long time; you’ll see stars being born, stars dying, shock waves compressing material into filaments, and just crazy beauty everywhere you look. I seriously can’t recommend enough you explore it.

I agree: check out that very large image, which will take a while to load. You might want to use it as the background image on your computer.

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The Ghost in the Shell: an enlarging star.

Like R Scupltoris, the star named U Camelopardalis (or U Cam for short) is dying. Unlike R Scul, it’s a solitary star. Its core is going through some pretty epic paroxysms, spasms that episodically eject vast spherical shells of gas into space. This Hubble Space Telescope image shows the latest shell, ejected just 700 years ago. The amount of material in it is pretty small by stellar standards, just a tenth the mass of the Earth. But it’s enough to make the beautiful and slightly eerie object you see here. I’ll note that U Cam used to be a star very much like the Sun. When you look at it, you may be seeing the Sun’s future, about 8 billion years from now.

hst_ucam.jpg.CROP.article920-large

Icy Aurora. One of several photos on Earth.

On March 28, 2012, photographer Helge Mortensen was in Tromso, Norway on a mission to capture the aurora borealis, the northern lights. He succeeded magnificently, taking this beautiful shot of the eerily-glowing green lights over the icy landscape. You can see the Moon, Venus, Jupiter, and the Pleaides cluster in the picture as the particles from the solar wind slam into Earth’s atmosphere, lighting up atoms of oxygen and nitrogen. I also like the water flowing in the bottom part of the shot; in the 10-second exposure it forms a soft, smooth surface. By coincidence, one part of it forms a pattern remarkably like a face, an aquatic Shroud of Turin. Can you spot it?

Photo: Helge Mortensen.
Photo: Helge Mortensen.

Milky Way and Mashed Potato Mountain

“This means something.”

Photographer Randy Halverson took this moody picture of the Milky Way rising behind the iconic silhouette of Devil’s Tower in Wyoming, known to countless dorks like me as the location of the alien rendezvous in Close Encounters of the Third Kind. Halverson is amazing, and his time-lapse video “Temporal Distortion” is well worth your time to watch.

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I can’t resist one more for the road, for we’ve been following this for a while:

The Best Vacation Photo Ever

One of the single biggest events of the year was the successful—if hair-raising—touchdown of the Mars Science Laboratory, aka Curiosity, on the surface of the red planet. The most advanced piece of hardware ever to set foot wheel on another world, Curiosity is equipped with an array of cameras, geological tools, and even a high-powered laser to zap rocks and determine their composition. On Halloween, it used its Mars Hand Lens Imager to take 55 high-resolution pictures of itself, which were assembled to create this amazing self-portrait. The reason you can’t see the arm holding the camera is that it was essentially edited out of the final shot by careful selection of which pictures were used in the mosaic.

NASA/JPL-Caltech/Malin Space Science Systems.
NASA/JPL-Caltech/Malin Space Science Systems.

h/t: Kenan Malik via Matthew Cobb

Somebody right this wrong!

December 27, 2012 • 5:12 pm

I know there are readers who can do it. If you’re a Wikipedia editor, please go here to fix. Henri has enough troubles already, and I’ve assured him that things will be made right. What he doesn’t realize yet, though, is that solidifying his fame will not alleviate his existential angst.

Screen shot 2012-12-27 at 6.09.28 PM

Even Maru is not on that list! Fix that, too!

UPDATE: Okay, they are both fixed. Thanks to whomever!

Screen shot 2012-12-27 at 6.50.46 PM