Concert musings

I had the opportunity to attend the final Cincinnati Chamber Orchestra concert yesterday. It was final in many ways. First, it was the final appearance for the conductor Mischa Santora, who is leaving the area to be closer to his family (and baby) in Minneapolis. Second, before the concert began, the president of the board announced that it was the final concert for the group before a major reorganization, the result of which will be a summer festival, rather than concerts throughout the year. Thirdly, it was the final concert of the 40th anniversary year for the group.

The concert included a variety of Italian orchestral and operatic pieces, with Sarah Coburn as the guest singer.

First, I need to thank John M. for offering the tickets he won in a silent auction. Note, the tickets in this silent auction were unbelievable. The four of us who attended sat in the third row and center--close enough to hear all the little noises and small breaths. It was an interesting vantage point, since we were looking forward and up, but with a clear view of everyone's feet.

Here is the program:

Luigi Cherubini: Overture from Medea

Giuseppi Verdi: "Caro Nome" from Rigoletto

Giuseppi Verdi: "Addio del passato" from La Traviata

Giacomo Puccini: I Crisantemi (The Chrysanthemums) for string orchestra

Giuseppi Verdi: "Ah, Fors'e Lui" and "Sempre Libera" from La Traviata

Vincenzo Bellini: "Oh quante volte" from I Capuleti e i Montecchi

Vincenzo Bellini: "Qui la voce... Vien, diletto" from I Puritani

Gioachino Rossini: Overture from Il Barbiere di Siviglia

Gioachino Rossini: "Una voce poca fa" from Il Barbiere di Siviglia

Since the first piece was orchestral, I had a chance to listen and let my eye wander as I relaxed into being at the concert. Here is what I noticed.

These folks do not tap their toes! Well, nearly none of the musicians did. They sat perfectly still in relaxed poses. I began searching all the feet, and indeed did find one viola player in the middle who tapped, as well as one cello player who used his heel occasionally, and one woodwind player who rocked her foot back and forth in time for the more intense passages. Having played in bands and orchestras on two continents while in school, my experience was that toe tapping is common. Might this be the difference between amateur and professional musicians, or is this a hallmark of the CCO under Santora? He is quite an interesting and personable conductor. A very tall Dutch man, quite thin, and not overly intrusive in his directing, he also stood in one location in a relaxed manner, only occasionally moving to direct one side or the other of the orchestra.

The orchestra members made up an amazingly normal-looking group of people. There was a wide range of ages, a generally equal mix of male and female players representing mostly "American" with a few international ones. Some looked nearly aristocratic in posture, others like folks you'd meet at the local small town grocery store. Long hair, as well as short and all lengths in between, where some was neatly groomed and others lacked a decent cut, but clean and combed.

Of course, they were in black, but not in uniform. Some of the women wore skirts, some pants, and there were many varieties of shirts, pullovers and blouses represented. The men were in dark grey or black suits and white shirts, with a variety of colored ties. As a person who is not fond of socks, and who abhors pantyhose, I found it interesting that all the women wore some kind of stocking. From nude to opaque, every ankle was covered. There was also a wide variety of shoes--black patent stilettos, orthopedic-type laced shoes, and very comfy looking sandals and slip ons. I realized that these folks were doing their job and while there were obviously rules, the individuality of each had space to exist.

The second piece brought Ms Colburn to the stage. She walked out and stood in immediate contrast. She wore a robin's egg blue floor length gown with significantly bejeweled straps and bodice. She also wore golden sandals, no hose covering her perfectly pedicured (red) toes. She looked like a beauty pageant contestant in evening gown competition. In addition, she had expertly applied makeup (wait: I had to look at the other women, who wore no makeup at all that I could see, something I missed in my first impressions), and shiny pinkish red lips. Long sparkly earrings glistened in the lights, completing the look. While she was bowing and clasping her hands together in appreciation (no nail polish visible-wait:none of the musicians was wearing nail polish or rings of any kind, but Ms Cohen did wear a wedding ring), I noted that she was one of those very small boned women who when full grown still look quite child-or even bird-like. I was wondering if she was going to belt out notes at all, and if so, where she would find the space in her body to do that. (The accolades lasted a bit longer than necessary, IMHO, leaving plenty of time for all these thoughts.)

After the intermission, she appeared in another costume and hair style. This time she wore an ivory flowing gown with sparkly straps, and had her hair pinned up from the sides. Although this second dress was quite different from the first, it still had the pageant gown look, I realized that divas need to stand out, and that their appearance is indeed part of the performance. She chose two gowns that were fitted closely in the bodice, and cut quite low in front so that you could see most the top of her lungs working.

Well, that girl can sing. Toward the end of her first aria, I felt a tear drip down onto my cheek, and I wasn't feeling as if I was tearing up. Amazing. Being as close as we were, I could watch her breathing while preparing to sing, while singing, and recovery. I think I like the recovery the most. It goes without saying that her control of her breath while singing was masterful. When she would come to a break, she would breathe normally for 3-5 breaths, then take a deep breath and exhale with some force, then breathe normally again. Depending on the length of her break, she would sometimes repeat this. She had quite a narrow upper body, but was able to fill fill those lungs right up to the top to sustain her voice.

The choices of pieces for her allowed the audience to see a bit of how she would act for the piece within the context of the opera. It was good that the conductor "set up the piece" for the audience, as she is a singer, not necessarily an actor. she used a lot of hand clenching and arm pointing, and at the true highlights of passion reached out to the sides. She did use her face muscles well, frowning, smiling, and even smirking once or twice when the context called for deviousness. But I was able to disregard the limited acting opera calls for due to her absolutely amazing voice. From near whistling to a couple lower notes, she has a wide vocal range at softer and louder levels.

So thanks again, John for the opportunity to attend this concert.


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My British Summer

This summer I went to Great Britain (Grantham and London) for the first time to teach a study abroad course that included site visits in Prague and Vienna, as well as free weekend travel destinations of Edinburgh and Berlin. I moved around....




From my initial comfort at the Harlaxton Manor house to my initial dislike of London, and all experiences leading up to my ability to navigate successfully via Brit rail and the London tube, England provided me the opportunity to live within British society in a small town, as well as in a world-class capital of millions. As with any trip abroad, it wasn't until I got back that I had the distance to start to process everything that had happened and that I had experienced. To sum it up, this has been my British summer.
So what has it included to date (update: it IS only the middle of July--update 2: oops, and now it's October!)?
-a stay in Great Britain, including Scotland and England




-rainy cool, and at times, downright cold, weather, but mostly pleasant
-a breakfast fry-up nearly every day at Harlaxton and in London




-being called "love/luv" by the taxi drivers, and quite enjoying it
-wild bluebells of the sensitive English variety




-an unbelievable system of museums-no charge- much like Washington DC
-the V&A, and my ability to get there and back on my own, and while there, to be able to fall in love with David Bowie all over and feeling like a teenager again. This crush continues :), though it has receded to a normal fan-level.




-England's contributions to rock and roll, related to the Bowie exhibit, followed up by a re-examination of British music in general upon my return.
-wonder at driving on the left. It nearly always seemed that we would veer into oncoming traffic, causing a bit of an adrenaline rush.
-the universally polite people, apologizing for the slightest hint of causing any discomfort to anyone. This certainly is a training ground for gentlemen and gentlewomen.
Even an excursion to Berlin for a free weekend couldn't escape a British twinge, as one of the students wanted to make a pilgrimage to David Bowie's former apartment there.




Planning my regular visit with Kristen to NYC including a show, I could hardly decided between two, and decided that since we wouldn't be paying for a hotel (she is house sitting for Ryan D.), that we could compensate by seeing two shows: "Kinky Boots" and "Matilda." Tickets in hand, and listening to the soundtracks in anticipation, it dawns on me that these two plays are both very British. OK, the music for KB is strictly Cyndi Lauper in all her glorious 80's aesthetic, but it IS about a (real) shoe factory in England that reinvents itself as a producer of kinky boots for the niche market of drag queens when the men's shoe market bottoms out. Roald Dahl's Matilda is about a small English girl's school experiences, a kind of finding kindness and a silver lining in the worst of situations, as well as finding a quiet space for oneself in the madness of life. So, two (excellent) British-themed shows.
One final coincidence is that Kristen and I stayed in the East village and shopped in the surrounding area, which I learned after the fact is the general location of David Bowie's NYC home. after getting to know the area a bit, I am sure it provides him and his family comfortable anonymity.
My summer reading also followed the theme: the new Terry Eagleton book, "Across the Pond" 😊 as well as two recent le Carre novels ("A Delicate Truth" and "Our Kind of Traitor") Neil Gaiman's "The Ocean at the End of the Lane." Ken Follett's "World Without End" is waiting.




What was it not?
First, I did not include any pub visits in England! This was not on purpose, it just didn't happen. The closest I came was one hour or so with the students in the manor bistro! watching them win the pub quiz in grand style. Other than that, the closest I came to public communal drinking was one whisky along with lunch in a pub/restaurant in Edinburgh. This was mainlyfor medicinal purposes due to the extreme wetness of body and feet along with cold temperatures, which necessitated preventative measures. This event reinforced my understanding the unique role whisky has in Scottish cultural history, one that I have learned to appreciate even more now that I have been able to experience the need in person.




Post script:
Now that summer has stretched into autumn, I realize that my awareness of British life, including the influence the UK has had on American life and society, has been heightened. One small example is that I have discovered BBC6, which I can stream live, and which has reawakened my love of radio, as well as the way in BBC6 entertains and teaches its listeners. As with so many experiences, the "Wissenslücke" has been filled a bit, and is waiting for more information. Thus, I will continue to operate as Briton Douglas Adam's suggests:




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Disorientation discomfort

Now that I've been back for a week, and have time to think and process the last month abroad, one aspect has become clearer to me. I realize that my level of discomfort increases dramatically with the level of disorientation I am feeling.

I was looking forward to visiting London, especially after hearing so many great reports from family and friends. However, upon arrival, I immediately sensed a level of disorientation of time and space. I had felt this same disorientation when I first visited Prague. Adding to this was the unnecessary need to move through space quickly. Upon arrival (by coach- no stress there), we checked the group into the nearby hostel. I had expected the hostel to be bare bones, but the reality was a bit disconcerting and added to my stress levels. Although it as adequate for sleeping cheaply in an expensive town, it lacked basic amenities, such as a chair to sit on in the room, a shelf for clothes while showering, and free wifi in the lobby. In addition, the beds were set at weird (90*) angles on top of each other so that feet were enclosed by the top of the next bunk, so that once on bed, movement was limited. the final item was that I developed a nosebleed during the night, which startled me significantly. Was the air too dry (ha! it rained a lot during the month, although it was sunny and dry this day) or was my blood pressure totally out of whack? Intellectually, none of these minor issues mattered, as the centrality of the location was more important for our group.

On top of this, my colleague suggested a walk, which sounded like a good idea, except that it was longer than I was able to comfortably complete at that point, resulting in foot discomfort/blisters, even though I had comfortable shoes and the walk was not stressful at all. I was ready to be done shortly after the halfway point. Then, navigating the tube/underground proved less than intuitive at the start of the visit, due to the tap in/tap out required by the multidimensional structure and the Oyster card.

In retrospect, I clearly needed down/alone time to process the changes. Unfortunately, that was not possible, so my brain just shut down and left me on physical autopilot, which left me feeling extremely tired. My colleague tried to snap me out of it by describing her analysis of my reaction to me, but I was totally unable to think or respond.  It was as if I were in a parallel universe where Dr. Caligari's cabinet and the Magic Mountain's dream sequence intersected.

Of course, following time to sleep and process (the nighttime nosebleed notwithstanding), I was alert and able to function much better, but I was troubled by the previous day's experience. The rest of the short stay was relatively uneventful in terms of stress, and I was able to begin appreciating what the city had to offer.

Luckily, this visit was immediately followed by a free weekend in Berlin, a city I know fairly well, and in which I was able to investigate some things I had never seen with pleasant company, if not perfect weather (torrential rain did seem to be the norm for each location we visited).

The last day of the program had been changed to be a free day, and I eagerly left early to spend the day in London alone to visit the David Bowie exhibit at the V & A museum. This had been one of the activities I really wanted to do while in London, but the group's activities prevented it during the site visits. Feeling confident about how to get there (train from Grantham, tube from King's Cross, walk through underground to museum), I finally experienced a glimpse of the wonder of the city that so many others of my family and friends had predicted. Of course, the Bowie exhibit contributed greatly to that...I fell in love with his music, aesthetic, costumes, stage presence and performances all over again :))

The takeaway from this realization is that I need private time to process new locations, even if that means limited activities in a new location. In addition, my preparatory research for a new city must be more rigorous to prevent some of the physical/psychic disorientation. On a side note, just HOW do the students regularly drop bags and run out into a strange city and enjoy it till late in the night?!? Their need for novelty and fear of missing out on something must be truly more powerful than I imagined.

Here are some photos from the V&A: the grand Chihuly chandelier, a couple of the decidedly feminist statues I saw waiting for my entrance time to the DB exhibit (Alfred Stevens, mid 19th century, "Valour and Cowardice" and "Truth Silencing Falsehood"). Look at these up close, as they are all three remarkable items! The last one is the queue in front of me outside waiting for the museum to open. The queue behind me was way longer, going to end of the block and around the corner--it is a popular exhibit.
















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Final presentations

Here are the links to the students' final presentations, in which they discuss the concept of empire, based on their readings and experiences during the last month.

http://youtu.be/Z1RCEpDgkn0

Here are the presentations for the Literary Gothic course:

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Moving in time and space-Berlin

Traveling requires a sense of ease in moving through time and space, all the time living each day in a significantly different way with regard to normal habits. Clothes need to get washed out by hand and hung over heaters for the next day, meals include breakfast rooms at hostels and hotels, or sampling the variety of street and cafe/restaurant food, and there is more walking than when at home.
There are sometimes things that that appear unexpectedly, such as finding that Berlin Mitte is under construction, this time for a new subway connection to Unter den Linden, and that was a huge concert area set up right at the Brandenburg Gate, limiting the entire area. Of course, cold rainy weather, while not totally unexpected, might change some plans or add to the fun exploring during the day, especially once you get used to wet exploration.
There are often difficulties, such as the flight delays we experienced during the journey here this time due to unexpected problems with a flight at Heathrow the day we departed, causing us to arrive well after the city had gone to sleep and requiring a return visit to claim forgotten luggage.
Then again, there is always the possibility of some sublimely wonderful moments. I'd put lunch today in this category. Bruce and Alex humored me today and we enjoyed asparagus cream soup, and a dinner of asparagus and potatoes. Since it was rainy and cold, we had a Glühwein as well, and it not only helped thaw and dry us out, but tasted great as well. The ambience of the old Berlin restaurant beneath the elevated train only added to the enjoyment.
Last weekend, I was with students in Berlin. I've been here before, and was thinking all day about previous visits with students, and as a child myself. The first time I came here it was to a divided city, and I lacked the skills needed to navigate a strange city. Katie T. and I got lost and wandered around, using a map neither of us could read well while trying to use the weak light provided by widely spaced street lights. Lesson learned: carry a flashlight and plan out how to return to your home away from home before going out.
Subsequent trips taught me to navigate within the city, and where I could stay comfortably. Those visits were with student groups with tours led by others, as well as visits to archives for my own research, and delegation visits with Blue Ash. Today was different, though, because it was the first time I was responsible for guiding others around, and I was surprised how much I was able to remember. There are other pleasant surprises, such as finding that the curry wurst stand that looked so temporary in the past is still at the same location. This brief weekend stay helped me to realize that every destination, and the travel to it, help define the minimum I need to move through time and space as a member of the human race on this planet.
The video is from the running video in the memorial to homosexuals persecuted under National Socialism. The photos include the Kleist Park near David Bowie's former Berlin home, the memorial to the murdered Jews, and Alexander in front of the Alexanderplatz train station sign.

PS The Currywurst stand was still a block away. We dumped our bags and headed of for a late night snack, accompanied by a Schnapps.

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David Bowie on my mind

I've been thinking a bit about Bowie these last several days. His recent album reflects at least in part on his life in Berlin (with bad boy Iggy Pop) at a much earlier time. Having visited the location of that apartment on Berlin, and walking around the area has led to clusters of thoughts. The house was basically at the wall, it sits in Schöneberg near Kreuzberg, and is now an area populated by immigrants and home to wild nightclubs and locales for Berlin's younger and gayer populations. This part of Berlin is hardly what you would call beautiful.

During the afternoon, I've been listening to old and new Bowie on YouTube, listening to the wonderful interview of Jimmy and David by Dinah Shore from the 70's (with Rosemary Clooney at her side), in which both men appear as vulnerable and quite adorable, or perhaps in awe of Dinah's beautiful southern accent. The rain outside adds to the feel of the afternoon. Bowie is looking back at his life, his voice is older, his face older and somewhat bloated, and it's just a bit melancholy. The video in grainy black and white adds to this feel, especially since the Berlin Bowie remembers still had a wall.

Now the building houses a 70's music cafe, the only hint that Bowie lived there.




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Edinburgh

Edinburgh is very far north, and the longer days prove it. The skies lighten around 4 am and daylight remains until late in the evening, around 9:30 in these May days. I travelled here with a group of four hardy students, Ruth, and Bruce, our mentee, for our first free weekend. We were able to enjoy an authentic Scottish experience: grey skies and light drizzle alternating with downpour as we walked up the royal mile to the castle. Our students were the best! Not one word of complaint, they carried on and investigated enthusiastically all we were able to see. We did need to insist that they stop and get umbrellas along the route as the rain became more insistent. I thought it odd that there we so many cashmere sweaters, hats and gloves in the windows, but my cold fingers after the castle visit made me reevaluate my initial perceptions.




We stopped to visit St. Giles church along the way, allowing us to get out of the rain. There we examined the stone structure, and I noticed the descriptions of the two of those memorialized, both of which captured the person behind the plaque.

Brigadier General Francis Aylmer Maxwell
Killed in Action at Ypres
21 September 1917
A gallant soldier and
very perfect gentleman
beloved by all his men.

Captain The Right Honorable
Neil James Archibald Primrose
Who was born December 14 1882
Was killed in action
November 15 1917
At the Hill of Gezer
In Palestine and lies buried
At Ramleh
His life was lovely and pleasant
And he died in glory.
~This tablet was erected by his proud and afflicted father~

The Scots have a history of war (maybe I can watch Braveheart after visiting here) and conflict, similar to so many nations. Most of the memorials we saw had to do with the First World War,. Books always comment on the horror of this war, but when viewing the memorials, it becomes a reality in the sheer numbers of men, horses and dogs who perished.

Edinburgh is a city of stone. The castle is stone upon a former volcano, and its craggy stone base sits high above, but still in the center of the city. The castle guide tells of multiple captures and recaptures, and it's hard to realize the effort each group needed to take to do just that. What was the draw of owning the space? Any people who lived here certainly had to be hardy. Yesterday's cold, grey, rainy day in this city of stone, the possible inspiration of Gondor in LOTR, more than proved that.



As we approached the crown jewel exhibit, the young woman outside warned us that the exhibit was quite busy, and that it might be very warm inside. We noted that she was standing out in the cold, breezy, rainy weather in a short sleeve shirt. We were actually looking forward to the warmth. It was busy, and indeed a bit warmer, but it was not "warm" to my perception. Note also that this exhibit had the real crown, scepter and coronation stone, which is still used, but stored in Edinburgh (as opposed to the Prague replicas, where the real jewels were all removed to Vienna).

Another interesting point was the story of how the people came to have the sword. Pope Julius II travelled to Edinburgh to present it to James in the 15th century. Today we fly and travel by train for a good part of the day to get here. How long must Julius and his entourage have travelled from sunny Rome to this location, and hat must he have thought. What was so important? After some investigation (no Google available here), we surmised that it had to be that the pope wanted to hold on to at least part of the British isles, given that Henry VIII had abandoned Roman Catholicism and created the Church of England to allow his multiple marriages. It wouldn't be till later that John Knox pushed for the founding of Presbyterianism. His statue is of black marble, and stands in contrast to all the white marble (French) memorials in St. Giles church.

B the time we stopped for lunch mid-afternoon, we were cold, wet with squishy socks and shoes, and hungry. A neat whiskey was called for, followed by hot tea and a hearty meal of fish and chips, macaroni and cheese, or steak pie. By then it had mostly stopped raining, and we investigated the city in a slight drizzle.



Tomorrow it's off to the whiskey museum!


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Buildings and Landscape in Vienna

Vienna is a known as a baroque city, even though the city has a history dating back before the common era, and a gothic cathedral that serves as the symbol of the city. Eighteenth-Century Hapsburg wealth and power transformed the city into a cultural center, from the ring streets to the Hofburg consolidation to Schönbrunn to the many monuments and other churches. There is today an odd juxtaposition of modern glass and steel and older buildings that give the city it's unique flavor.

Within the many inner city buildings, the first items that come to mind are the many coffee and ice cream shops. The Viennese are famous for their coffee, but it was thanks to the Turks (Ottoman soldiers) who, when General Sobieski attacked their encampment, left their coffee reserves as they retreated from their siege attempt. Coffee was known as the "Turkish drink," and the Viennese embraced it, then turned the appreciation of it into a sublime art. From small and large "brauner" to espresso and cappuccino, along with the presence of multiple cafés on every block (including the recent American import, Starbucks), coffee is everywhere. Knowing this history, I am still always surprised at how many coffee shops there are.

The ubiquitous ice cream shops nearly match the number of coffee houses, especially in warmer weather. From the small kiosks, café settings, and even the grand Zanoni and Zanoni location, it is apparent that the Viennese, and their guests, like ice cream. There is always a crowd if people at these locations when they are open. The selection ranges from simple sugar cones with a large scoop to elaborate ice cream, fruit, nut, and syrup concoctions that can leave you jittery from an excess of sugar in your system, especially if you dare to pair one with a coffee.

As we study the manifestations of the Hapsburg Empire in Vienna, I realized that these two luxuries (coffee and ice cream) are vestiges of the royal lifestyle and stand as metaphors for the the riches and decadent lives of the royal families. When in Vienna, I can treat myself to delicious coffee concoctions served in tiny cups, but which fulfill even though they are quite small. I am able to select ice cream from a menu with pictures of the more elaborate creations. Did the royals drink coffee and eat ice cream? The Silver Collection museum at the Hofburg presented the preferred simple white china sets with coffee service (among other porcelain items for dining room, kitchen, bath and bedroom) as well as the most beautiful tin forms in fruit and small animal shapes used to freeze custards and creams. Products from these forms could have rivaled the Zanoni creations.

As i generalized these thoughts, I also realized that Vienna is a city with a highly developed aesthetic, and that it was a result of their history if being influenced by the gentle mannerisms and refined behavior of the former Hapsburg court. This realization helped me better understand why Sisi had to learn to always be impeccably dressed, why elaborate china, glass and silver settings were needed even at the most intimate of family meals, why Austrians move in a restrained physical manner and have conversations in public only in the most quiet and reserved manner, and even why Austrians are still known to greet women sometimes with a "Küss die Hand."





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Water to go

No one can take a bottle of water past security, since it exceeds the 3 ounce "3-1-1" rule. That usually leaves a thirsty traveler at the mercy of airport-priced bottles of water. Look what we found in Atlanta after the security check in. It's a water bottle filler, which many of the group promptly used to fill their empty eater bottles. Here, Ruth demonstrates how to use it.  The readout tells you how many plastic bottles you have avoided using by refilling your own bottle.



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Sabbatical finished, leaving tomorrow

This sabbatical flew by! Although I spent a lot of "butt time" reading, thinking and writing, it seemed such a short time. The semester version of a leave is really too short. Next time, I will need to schedule it for a time when I do not have to get right back to work in the summer in order to gain the summer as well.

This is the last day before we leave for the SBSA program in Vienna, Prague and Harlaxton/London. I need to complete several last minute tasks at work and at home, then rest this evening to prepare for the sure-to-be-exhausting trek from home to Dayton to Atlanta to London to Vienna, then through Vienna to our hostel/hotel. I figure it's about 40 solid hours of travel and waiting to travel, and a real reason to try to sleep on the airplane. Here's a picture of me in transatlantic flight mode.

I read that wearing sunglasses for the entire flight and into the next day upon arrival tricks the internal processes responsible for detaining just how much jet lag a person might experience. I tried it last September for Verena and Moritz's wedding, a long weekend trip, and it seemed to work well. No jet lag upon arrival! On the journey home, I did it again, with a slightly lower success, but I attribute that to exhaustion from the fast trip, and heading back to work the next day. I still smile when I remember that Kristen substituted for me. And she did a great job :))


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