Farewell to Graz

The summer at AIMS came to a smashing conclusion with the Meistersinger Competition finals and concert. Two preliminary rounds had been held earlier in the summer. There were eight finalists left and two alternates, each of whom sang one aria with the orchestra. The event was held in the Helmut-List-Halle, a kind of all-purpose arena built by one of our most generous supporters. The space was formerly a factory of some sort but it has been nicely converted into a performing space. It must seat well over a thousand people and the place was packed for this concert. What we heard was la crème de la 2% milk. I haven't been particularly impressed with the level of singing in the opera studio this summer, but these ten vocalists were very good. I'm glad I was not a judge. Four external judges were brought in, including Ileana Cotrubas, who had an international career in the 60's and 70's. We heard such diverse selections as "Großmächtige Prinzessin" (Zerbinetta's aria), "Dich, teure Halle", "Ah, fors' è lui", and "Abscheulicher, wo eilst du hin" from Fidelio -- some pretty big stuff! The orchestra was, as usual, wonderful. The one orchestral selection on the program was the first Walzerfolge from "Der Rosenkavalier". After the prizes were rewarded (and the audience was polled by ballot for an Audience Favorite) the orchestra launched into a rousing performance of "Stars and Stripes Forever". The revelation of the evening: who knew that "Stars and Stripes" had a harp part? The poor dear was plucking her fingers raw and, of course, you cannot hear one single note of the harp since the brass and percussion are going full blast. She might have been playing "Lady of Spain" for all we knew.

Today, Friday, is the Catholic holiday of Maria Himmelfahrt (Assumption of the Virgin) and virtually everything in town is closed. I knew that there was to be a performance of a Mozart Mass at Maria Trost in the morning, so I decided to make my way up there. It was a 'Hohes Amt', a high mass and the music, Mozart's "Missa Solemnis" was part of the service. I expected the place would be packed; it was standing room only. It's a good thing I arrived 45 minutes early. I haven't witnessed a Roman rite mass in decades. It is in itself grand theater, with processions, scads of altar boys, sumptuously robed clergyman (actually, I think it was a bishop who was officiating), bell ringing, clouds of incense, lots of standing, sitting, kneeling. I enjoyed the spectacle -- and, it was all in German! Then there was the music. The Missa Solemnis is a work of Mozart's I have never heard and it does not rank as one of his strongest works, but still, the mark of his genius is evident throughout with ingenious harmonic invention, masterful use of solo winds, effortlessly conceived melodies and a sense of playfulness even at the most serious moments. Soloists, chorus and orchestra were all excellent. Hearing this mass in the glorious basilica of Maria Trost was truly wonderful; music and architecture blended into one aesthetic unity. After the service I hiked down to the Heim. There was a thunderstorm during the night and again the forest was fragrant with the smell of pine and wood. I shall miss the beautiful city of Graz and all the wonderful things it has to offer. I have been richly blessed in the experience of this summer. Tomorrow I make my way back to the States via Munich and Washington D.C.

Auf Flügeln des Gesanges...

"On the wings of song..." begins a poem by Heinrich Heine, exquisitely set to music by Felix Mendelssohn. The two performances of my Lieder program were an affirmation of how special and wonderful the genre of the art song is. I am happy to report that both performances of the Liederabend went off successfully. Actually, they were outstanding concerts. I can take a little credit for that, but I know that there was a lot of luck involved as well: I just happened to end up with some of the best singers in my studio; that was none of my doing -- it just turned out that way. Hence, I was able to assign some substantial songs to my charges. Secondly, they really surprised me with the level of their musicianship. I was able to sit back and enjoy two evenings of beautiful music. I also chose a very interesting theme for my program and that put a wide range of songs at my disposal. It wasn't my original intention, but putting Beethoven's "Kennst du das Land" at the beginning of the program and Wolf's at the end was a brilliant idea (if I do say so myself!); it provided the perfect framework for the evening. I have always, as a coach, been insistent on good diction in the singing of Lieder. I reminded my charges that they would be singing for a German-speaking audience, that the people listening would expect to understand the text of every song, that many would know the poems already. (Our programs here at AIMS are printed in German and there are no translations.) While watching hours of prliminary auditions after we got here I was dismayed to see how many young singers flailed their arms about, made gratuitous gestures, or otherwise fidgeted while performing. All that is distracting to any performance. I decided that I would pay attention to the physical expression of my singers. I encouraged them to find a stance comfortable for them, preferably hands and arms at sides, and allow the audience to read the story and emotions in their faces. I was delighted to see that virtually every student in my concert did exactly that. Their stage deportment and delivery added to the high tone of the evening.

The first performance took place at 6 PM (there was another Liederabend scheduled later in the evening elsewhere) in the Landeskrankenhaus Kirche, the church of the provincial hospital. The extensive campus of this hospital is just down the street. It is practically a city unto itself with separate buildings for each specialty. (It wouldn't surprise me if there were an Ingrown Toenail Building, or a Jock Itch Pavillion there.) The complex was built in the first decade of the 20th century, in what is known here as Jugendstil, which we call art deco style. The small church, more like a large chapel, is also in this style. It's a charming venue with acoustics that were flattering to singing. I was told that the annual concert there would be well attended, and it was. I have no idea who those people were, but they certainly liked what they heard. At the end of the performance the applause continued for such a long time that the performers had to appear for a second ensemble bow. I have never seen that happen here before. The repeat performance was in the Odiliensaal, a small concert hall we have been using all summer, that is part of the Institute for the Blind. Even though we were competing with a chamber music recital across the street the Liederabend was well attended and well received. Afterwards I celebrated with colleagues by indulging in a well deserved glass of beer and a schnapps. [The photo is in the Odiliensaal before the second concert; these are all the vocalists -- the pianists hadn't arrived yet.]

The daily grind

As we head towards the end of the AIMS program the frequency of events has increased. There are sometimes three concerts on one day in various locations. There was a concert of Spanish music, a Russian evening, an operetta program (performed three different times), and evening of spirituals, several student recitals and, this week alone, three different Liederabende. There was one on Sunday late morning in the Meerscheinschlößl, a charming little palace that now belongs to the university. I am told that Mozart once performed in the hall in which the concert took place. Imagine that! The orchestra performed last Thursday's concert two more times outside of Graz and they are playing their final program this Thursday. Monday we also had a visiting artist, renowned baritone Bo Skovhus, do a masterclass. Whew!

Karlskirche

The weather was very changeable, alternating between showers and sunshine. I had walked the entire way from the Südbahnhof, a distance of many miles, but as the sun was shining brilliantly when I exited chez Liechtenstein I abandoned my intention to take the tram back into the center and walked along the Donaukanal instead. This is not actually the Danube itself, but a canal that runs parallel to the river. The center was still crawling with tourists but that did not deter me from taking a seat at an outdoor café to watch the world go by. And there was a lot of world to watch, believe me. On the walk back to the rail station I made a detour to view the Karlskirche with its curious columns modeled after the column of Trajan in Rome. I was actually looking for the apartment house where Brahms lived for many years. He had a view of the church from his window. Much to my disappointment I couldn't locate it, but my photo shows the view that Brahms would have seen. A few blocks from the Karlsplatz is the home of the Wiener Musikverien, one of the most famous concert halls in the world, home of the Vienna Philharmonic and site of many important events in music history. (It was already late evening, so the lighting in the photo was not the best.) We arrived back in Graz before midnight, on the last direct train of the day.
Having seen so much material splendour in the way of royal accoutrements and palaces, I couldn't help reflecting on where all that wealth came from. The Liechtensteins won territory the usual way, through inter-marriage, wars or gifts from generous rulers. But in the end that wealth was acquired from the back-breaking work of peasants who were heavily taxed, frequently brutally treated without any recourse to justice, and who often starved to death. So that one family could wallow in luxury countless thousands suffered a miserable existence. Looking at European history is enough to turn one into a raving Marxist. It is no wonder there were frequent revolutions in Europe and it is no wonder that heads rolled. Marie Antoinette, it should be remembered, was the daughter of the Empress of Austria, Maria Theresa.

Palais Liechtenstein

I walked further along the Ringstrasse and then north a few miles through a beautiful residential area to the Palais Liechtenstein. This is one of several residences in Vienna of the prestigious Liechtenstein family which now rules one of the smallest countries on earth, the Principality of Liechtenstein, nestled between Austria and Switzerland (and yes, I've been there!). The family's fortunes rose when they helped turn the tide against the invading Turks in the early 17th century and were rewarded generously by the then Kaiser. With time their fortunes and holdings waned until all they had left was one tiny, though scenic, piece of real estate. (The current Prince, btw, is Fürst Hans-Adam II von und zu Liechtenstein.) But while the going was good they built many palaces and furnished them with the best art work to be had. The newly refurbished Palais Liechtenstein houses only a small part of the complete holdings (the rest of the collection is still in Vaduz) and it is considered to be one of the greatest private collections in Europe. The palace itself is magnificent. The main hall, the Herkulessaal, is one of the largest palatial halls in Vienna. My jaw dropped when I entered this enormous room ringed with marble columns. Only the best Italian artists were employed in building and decorating the Palais. Every room has gorgeous frescoes, but the one in the Herkulessaal is stupendous in its size and splendour. After I purchased my ticket in the entry hall (not too shabby either) I then proceeded up one of two grand staircases. I heard what sounded like a large string orchestra playing somewhere in the building. What luck, I thought, there's live music as well! It turned out to be a string trio rehearsing for an upcoming concert in the H-saal. In the marble hall the reverberation was so great that it sounded like an orchestra of a hundred strings. The collection of paintings, sculpture and furniture is exclusively Baroque, mostly Italian and Dutch masters, and all of it the finest quality: Rubens, Hals, van Dyck, Guidi, Canaletto, etc. I have always especially admired the portraits of Anthonis van Dyck. Although his subjects were well-to-do burghers usually dressed in the formal black attire of the period, each individual has a unique personality and it looks like each one is ready to open his or her mouth and speak to you. Van Dyck's work is a miracle of portraiture. The ground floor houses the magnificent library (17th and 18th century collections) and a huge ceremonial carriage. These guys knew how to travel in style too! Behind the Palais lies one of the prettiest formal gardens in Vienna. It is now a public park. (The photo shows part of the garden and the Palais.) My time spent here was alone worth the journey to Vienna.

Die Ringstrasse

The inner city is encircled by the famous Ringstrasse, a wide boulevard that was added when the former city walls were torn down. Some of the grandest buildings in Vienna adorn it, including the Opera House and the Austrian Parliament building. The latter was built in the mid-1800's in what is called the 'Historic' style, that is, it is a replica of Classical Greek architecture. It is more grandiose than any ancient building ever was. A statue of Pallas Athena Parthenos commands attention front and center. It is now, of course, the seat of the government of the Republic of Austria which came into being after the disaster of WW II.

Die Hofburg

I headed next to the Hofburg, the royal residence of the Hapsburgs. Much of it is open to the public and it houses various museums. You could spend days there and not see it all. Just before entering the complex I encountered a uniformed marching band that processed out of the courtyard playing Viennese favorites, to the delight of the tourists (including myself!). I opted to visit the Schatzkammer (Imperial treasury) which houses the collection of royal crowns, robes and other artifacts of the Hapsburgs (and some Napoleanic stuff thrown in as well). The array and quality of treasure is mind boggling. (The pic shows a small part of a ceremonial necklace in solid gold.) The exhibit also provides a useful overview of the rise of the Hapsburgs. It seems that they suffered from a perpetual identity crisis and spent much of their time attempting to prop up their legitimacy as rulers of a far-flung empire by erecting grand buildings all over the place. It was their intention to impress everyone with their imperial might: We're here and we're Hapsburgs -- and don't you forget it! The Hofburg is impressive, no doubt about that. So is the rest of Vienna. Graz, with all its small town charm, is small potatoes compared to the Imperial capital. With the demise of the Holy Roman Empire which spluttered to a close and finally bought the farm in 1804, Franz I declared himself Emperor of the remainder of Hapsburg holdings which became the Austro-Hungarian Empire. It always was an unnatural arrangement as a small minority of Austrians lorded it over a restive population of Slavs, Huns, Turks, Italians, etc. It all came crashing down at the end of the Great War.

Vienna

It would have been a little odd to spend nearly six weeks in Austria and not visit Vienna at least once. I seriously considered going on Saturday but decided the round-trip train fare at 68 euros (= $100) was too steep for a one-day excursion. When one of the faculty organized a group to travel together, qualifying for the discounted group rate (bringing the fare down by half), I felt I couldn't pass up the opportunity. We took an early (7:30 AM) train from Graz. The downside with the arrangement was that I was stuck on the train in the company of lively and LOUD young Americans. We went our separate ways once we arrived at the Südbahnhof in Vienna. I decided on what I wanted to see and made my plan for the day.
I have been to Vienna a number of times, the first time was as a high school kid on the Grand Tour with my mother in 1962. The last time I visited was twenty-four years ago, in 1984. That's quite a long time. Walking into the center of the city one passes the Belvedere Palace (now an art museum) with its beautiful grounds. The photo is from the gardens looking towards the city center. The house where Anton Bruckner died is in a house on the palace grounds. You can't swing a dead soprano in Vienna without hitting a place where some famous composer lived or died. The heart of the city is the famous Sankt Stephans Dom (cathedral) with its distinctive tile roof. It is a large Gothic church, and very beautiful. Unfortunately, Vienna is such a tourist magnet that the inner city is swarming with people, all jostling to get the best camera angles. It makes you wonder whether it is worth the effort to visit such places. The Dom was like the proverbial sardine can.

Liederabend

In less than a week the Liederabend (song program) I am preparing will be presented two evenings in a row. This is, of course, the main reason for my being here at AIMS. The eleven singers and three pianists I have been coaching have all been working hard and all are on track to do this program. (I wish a few were a bit more solid in the memory of their pieces, but that's par for the course.) We are all excited about doing it. The students appreciate the fact that much of the program is unknown; I'd venture to say that two thirds of the twenty-two songs programmed will be unfamiliar to the audience. But what treasures await them! There are two songs by Schubert that are rarely done: "Lied eines Schiffers an die Dioskuren" and "An die Leier". Both have melodies that seem to have fallen out of heaven, the kind of exquisite lyricism that only Schubert could have come up with. The same goes for "Suleika I", a substantial Schubert song that is not often performed. The one example of 20th century style is Wolfgang Fortner's "Hyperions Schicksalslied". I'll bet few listeners will know that either. Fortner, a contemporary of Hindemith, wrote in a similar style. The first half will end with the spectacular coloratura tour de force "Amor" from the Strauss Brentano Lieder. The second half of the program includes two rarely heard Schumann songs, and of those I am particularly fond of "Lied der Suleika". Of the two Brahms songs programmed, "Die Schale der Vergessenheit" will be a revelation; it's a mature piece with drama and sweeping Brahmsian lines. There are half a dozen Wolf Lieder, three of them settings of Goethe's translations of Persian poetry. They are perhaps the most obscure pieces on the program. I adore the song "Als ich auf dem Euphrat schiffte", a gem of a song in two pages. In the poem a man is floating down the Euphrates in his boat; his ring of betrothal slips off his finger into the water; the sun rises through the trees and he wakes up from his dream. He says: "Sag Poete, sag Prophete! Was bedeutet dieser Traum?" -- Tell me Poet, tell me Prophet, what is the meaning of this dream? The program is framed by two settings of Goethe's "Kennst du das Land", Beethoven's at the beginning and Wolf's magnificent version at the end. The official title of the program is: "Kennst du das Land? -- Sehnsucht nach Italien, Griechenland und dem exotischen Osten" (Do you know the far-off land? Yearning for Italy, Greece and the exotic East).

Head for the hills

The pics are another view of Maria Trost and a view of the countryside from the terrace in front of the basilica. After a cloudy morning, the day promised to be a fine one. I opted for a long hike, walking up the hill behind us to Maria Trost. There is a short cut through the neighborhood that takes you right to the forest preserve and the wide trail up the hill. It was alive with walkers, bikers and joggers. What a marvel that you can live in a fairly large city and be in a lovely forest in no time. The walk to M.T. takes an hour and ten minutes. I once more visited the basilica and once more admired its magnificence. One thing I missed on my first visit were two side altars that each had glass shrines containing (supposesdly) the skeletons of saints. They must have been midgets because they would not have been more than three feet tall. It is, to my mind, an utterly grotesque practice of the Roman church to venerate the decrepit remains (and obviously spurious ones in this case) of long gone people. That might have been helpful to prop up the faith of the simpletons in the Middle Ages, but in the 21st century it is absurd. I had the naughty idea of opening the glass casket of Saint Bonus and putting sunglasses on his skull -- Ole Boney lookin' mighty fine in his Foster Grants, grinnin' away in his phoney dentures...

There are several trail options from M.T. I took one headed south. It stayed on the mountain ridge, affording views of the beautiful countryside and passing through a few villages. One never tires of the glorious displays of flowers everywhere, in gardens and in window boxes. Much of the trail was in the forest; after yesterday's heavy rain the air was redolent with the scent of the fir trees and earth. There were some pastures and orchards; the apple trees were heavy with fruit. I discovered a roadside growth of blackberries that had just ripened -- that was my refreshment. Here the bikers and joggers were fewer and it was quiet and still. At a place called Altes Fassl (a beer garden, naturally) I had the option of going down the hill to the next village without knowing whether there would be a bus running (it was Sunday), so I decided to retrace my steps and head back the same way to M.T. (if it was so nice the first time, it would be nice the second), where I could catch the tram back to the Heim. In all I walked at least 16 kilometers (12 miles) -- not a bad hike. I was really tired by the end of it and went to the fabulous restaurant Häuserl im Wald with a group of my colleagues for a fine dinner.

Thal

It's the weekend again and that means time for an excursion somewhere. I witnessed a mass exodus Friday morning as Aimsers left town in droves, headed for various places of interest. One of the German diction coaches with whom I have become friendly (there are three coaches for German, one who does French and Italian and one for Russian) organized an outing to the neighboring town of Thal this afternoon. Six of us, four faculty and two students, took a tram then two busses to get there. It has two main attractions, depending on one's interests: one is the church of Sankt Jakobus; the other is the Arnold Schwarzenegger Museum. Thal happens to be his home town and they are very proud of their local boy who became governor of California. Of course, we went to view the church but were also amused by the Schwarzeneggeralia. The church was a small Baroque building which received a modern addition some twenty years ago. I have never seen anything quite like it. The floor is made of stones embedded in concrete, the kind of thing you might find in a seaside grotto; there are various paintings with biblical themes and strange characters. None of it is particularly good, in my opinion. It is unique, it is colorful, but on the whole it is kitsch. As has been the case every day this week, thunderstorms developed. The countryside was lovely, what we could see of it in the rain. Some of our party left to return to Graz and three of us ended up in a local café where we enjoyed some lovely Kaffee und Kuchen. There was a family celebration of some kind on the terrace (the light rain had stopped) and eventually a local guy in Lederhosen brought out his accordian and began serenading the celebrants (and us unavoidably) with his playing. It was the kind of spontaneous local event you often wish to experience in a foreign country. We just witnessed it by accident. And speaking of spontaneous events, a thunderstorm just rolled through as I was writing this, leaving a gorgeous rainbow in its wake (see pic).

Grazer Leben

I've just finished my fourth week in Graz. It was again filled with activities, but not as hectic a schedule as previously. The week's orchestra concert again took place in the fabulous Stefaniensaal in the center of town. The program included the overture and vocal excerpts from "Die Entführung aus dem Serail" as well as excerpts from "I Pagliacci". Some of the singing was good, some was only adequate. The concert ended with a mesmerizing (is there any other kind?) performance of Ravel's "Boléro". It's hard to imagine it being done as a ballet, as was the original intent. It is fun to watch a performance of "Boléro" and pick out who has the solo. At the end of the performance the conductor had the percussionist who played the snare drum take a bow in the front of the stage. It is perhaps not 'difficult', but if you screw up on it you ruin the entire performance.
The experience of living in a foreign country is so different from visiting as a tourist. With time you relax and tune into the rhythms of everyday life. Grazers seem to be relaxed and easy-going. I feel much more comfortable here than I ever did in Germany; Germans tend to me more critical and are apt to express their disapproval if things are not done according to their exacting rules (Ordnung muss sein! is one of their favorite slogans). I've heard the opinion expressed more than once that Austrians are two-faced and insincere. That may be true in Vienna, but it is not the case here. In my month in Graz and surroundings I have always encountered courtesy and helpfulness from the Austrians. Now, if they could only get the laundry thing figured out...