Confessions of a lapsed Mahlerian

I was in the mood for Mahler the other night (or so I thought) and wanted to acquaint myself further with the compositions that Mahler wrote during his summers in Toblach, the Ninth and the unfinished Tenth symphonies. I discovered that the Ninth was the only Mahler symphony I didn't have in my cd collection, although I have the complete symphonies on vinyl with Bernstein and the NY Philharmonic. I couldn't remember ever having listened to the Ninth. I anticipated the treat of being swept away by a late masterpiece unknown to me. The first movement started off just fine but by the middle of it I had lost interest; it began to sound like all the previous symphonies he had written, but going through the motions with nothing new to say. The next movement, a Scherzo, although a marvel of orchestral colors and contrapuntal writing, was a hallow, noisy affair. The third movement, a Burleske, a hysterical cacaphony. I left the final movement, the Adagio, for the next evening. I couldn't get through all of it; it just didn't hold my interest. There is much of Mahler's music I adore, "Das Lied von der Erde", the Fourth, Fifth and Eighth symphonies especially, but the Ninth is not on my list of favorites. It turns the old adage, less is more, on its head, in this case: more is less. After the experience of the Ninth I felt like I had been bashed by a baseball bat. When I took the LP off and switched back to radio, an early Mozart piano concerto happened to be playing. Aaaaahhhhh! Now that's music! -- effortless, joyful, serene, like a summer breeze. There are hardly two composers more different in their approach to composition than Mozart and Mahler. Mozart is the Zen Master of classical music, completely, effortlessly in the moment. Mahler works too hard. I did listen to the Adagio of the Tenth Symphony today and was enchanted by it.

In the group pic I had just returned from my second Liederabend at the Ruefasaal. The pic is taken in the lobby of the Heim. I am wearing my newly acquired Janker (Tyrolean style jacket) for the first time. Dennis and Penny Johnson on the left and one of the faculty voice teachers, Barbara Steinhaus, on the right.

The other pic is taken on the following evening, during the intermission of the Meistersinger concert, in the lobby of the Helmut List Saal. Opera coach/pianist Darryl Cooper and I are both in our Jankerian splendour. His student would go on to win first prize by the end of the evening. Darryl lent his two hands to the Schubert piano duet we performed at the beginning of the summer.

Me and my friends

My good friend and colleague Penny Johnson and I (Penny's husband Dennis took the picture) at the bistro across the street from the Heim. It's officially called the Café Mückenauer, but everyone calls it Margit's. It's the most popular hangout for Aimsers as the food is good and it's cheap! Penny had just found a biography of Hugo Wolf at a used book sale that day and we were admiring the photographs.

LKH Kirche

I went back to the Landeskrankenhaus Kirche, the venue of my first Liederabend, to take some photos of the place when no one was around. The art nouveau decor is lovely. Note the unique Jugendstil window and the front altar with the two medallions on either side. The church is more like a chapel. It's not very big, square and domed.

Häuserl in Walde

As the end of our days at AIMS nears we want to enjoy the pleasure of the company of our colleagues one last time. I hadn't been to the restaurant Häuserl im Walde once yet this summer and suggested to a few colleagues that we plan for a festive dinner there. More than a dozen of us made our way up the hill Friday evening, some by cab, some by foot on the forest path. A special room was reserved for us. The Häuserl ("Little House" in Austrian dialect) specializes in Austrian/Styrian cuisine of the highest quality. The place is admirably situated, with several terraces overlooking the leafy suburbs of Graz. It is one of the most popular restaurants in the city. As August is the time for harvesting Eierschwammerl (wild mushrooms) there was an entire page of be-shroomed entrées to choose from. Everything we had was delicious. Some of us ended with a specialty of the house, a dessert of Kastanien crème, puréed chestnuts served with a mountain of Schlagobers (whipped cream) -- no calories in that, of course! Some of us walked back, a much welcome exercise after the indulgence in a rich meal.
I have mixed feelings about leaving Europe. Since I have been away nearly two months I look forward to sleeping in my own bed at home again. The things I won't miss are the lumpy bed in my room and the noise in the Heim. Some of our younger students like to party all night (although this year it has been relatively quieter than last). I will miss the congenial company of my colleagues, the many fine musical events that were offered here, the beautiful city of Graz, but most of all I will miss the easy way of life here. It was pointed out to me that there are many more restaurants in Austria than in Germany. The Austrians have a culture of enjoying life, and that includes going out for a good meal. Austrian cuisine is lighter and more imaginative than its German counterpart. Austrian desserts, especially the Torten, are renowned for their delicacy. The general attitude here is much more laissez faire and tolerant than you will find in neighboring countries. This is the land that invented the genre of operetta, after all! The Germans are too uptight, being preoccupied with following every rule and regulation to the letter. The Austrians are willing to overlook a few things. The Swiss are serious and dour, as if they are all experiencing a permanent bad day. My colleagues and I are unanimous, I think, in our appreciation of Austrian civility and graciousness.

Meistersinger finalists

The ten finalists. Bass Scott Connor from Kansas City is on the right, just behind Andrea Huber, the emcee for the program.

Abschlußkonzert

The final concert of the program took place last night in the Helmut List Saal. This was the final round of the Meistersinger Competition. The ten finalists and two alternates had been chosen a few weeks earlier in a preliminary round. The level of singing was very high and each performer was impressive. There were two basses, one tenor, one mezzo and six sopranos. The ultimate winner was a young spinto, Natalie Aroyan, who sang Veri's "Surta `e la notte...Ernani involami". Not only did she win first place from the panel of distinguished judges, but she also garnered the Audience Favorite Award. It's nice when there is unanimity of opinion in these matters. The orchestra, under the direction of Edoardo Müller, opened the concert with Rossini's Overture to "La gazza ladra", superbly done, and ended with the Liszt tone poem "Les Préludes". It was a thrilling, memorable performance. It made me sad to realize that this fine ensemble would be dispersed to the four corners of the globe after this concert.

Liederabend II

Sometimes the best laid plans go awry; the unexpected keeps life interesting. As we didn't have enough student pianists to go around this year I was assigned only one for my Liederabend program. It turns out she is very capable, but she is young and I couldn't burden her with learning the entire program. I was also assigned one of the pianists on the faculty to help out. Of course, I gave him all the hardest pieces. The day before my Liederabend he threw his back out and was unable to play, so that left me holding the pianistic bag. I know all the pieces as I have been coaching them for weeks now, but hadn't worked them up to performance level. It took some extra practicing to get myself up to speed. Our first performance was in the Landeskrankenhaus Kirche, the church that is part of the provincial hospital near here. It is a charming Jugendstil building with its original decor intact, so cute one would like to wrap it up and take it home. (The photo is of a stylized saint.) Like last year, the concert was very well attended. As the Director of the AIMS program didn't come (I thought he would) it was left to me to offer some welcoming remarks to our audience and inform them of the program change. I have no problem speaking publicly, but I have never done so in German -- and to an audience of Austrians! I got more nervous about that then playing, but all went well. The concert was a great success. My young charges all rose to the occasion and sang beautifully. I'm very proud of them all.

The second performance took place in a venue on the Hauptplatz, in the heart of the old city. The RUEFA (an acronym for something of other) is actually a travel agency by day. The desks are pushed aside and concealed behind a curtain and, voilà, instant concert hall. A Bösendorfer grand was moved in for the occasion. Embellishing the somewhat surreal atmosphere of the place is an enormous palm tree that is wall-papered on the front wall of the room, just in front of the piano, a visual that rather put a damper on the "Winter" segment of my program. (The theme of the program was "Die Jahreszeiten" = The Seasons). The power of music had to overcome it. (Perhaps next time I can create a program around all of those Goethe South Sea Island poems; the well-known "Nur wer Tahiti kennt, weiss was ich leide" jumps to mind....) Once again my students performed admirably. I chose a particularly interesting program of Lieder, a mix of well-known favorites and lesser known songs, including compositions by Clara Schumann, Fanny Mendelssohn-Hensel, Alma Mahler, Robert Franz, Josef Marx and Charles Ives. Two duets by Mendelssohn and Schumann added luster to the evening. Two different people told me later that they thought this was the best Liederabend they had ever heard at AIMS. There could be no better compliment. This second program was taped and recorded. I hope I can add some clips to this blog at a future date.

Schlossberg

Just across the river from the Minoritenkirche is this view of clock tower on the Schlossberg, 'the castle on a hill'. The clock tower is the most recognizable feature of Graz. The castle used to be a mighty fortress until it was blown up by Napoleon.

Minoritensaal

The piano is a Fazioli, a make considered one of the best in Europe. The vignette above the huge painting in the center says: SILENTIVM, with a cherub on either side, reminding the monks below to shut up and eat. It's high camp.

Meisterklasse

So far I have said little about the musical experience this year. As it was last year, the program at AIMS is jampacked with activities. The singing in the public performances with orchestra has been at a generally higher level than last year, but there have still been a few that were not up to par. The orchestra, on the other hand, is phenomenal. They say it's the best in years (and it was pretty darn good last year!). It is outstanding on every concert, playing with precision and great subtlety. On my end of things, the Concert Studio, we have lately enjoyed two masterclasses by high profile singers. Bo Skovus, the Danish baritone, came over from Salzburg (where he is singing Guglielmo at the Festspiele) at the beginning of the week. Barbara Bonney, the American soprano, also made her way over from the City of Mozart today. Both classes took place in the Minoritensaal, a large room that is part of a functioning monastery. The room itself, splendidly and unashamedly Baroque, used to be the refectory, but it is no longer used as such as the community of monks is too small. It's a great space. The AIMS orchestra concerts were held here for many years, I'm told. The photo is of the Minoritenkirche from the outside. It was a gloomy day.

Siesta on the mountain

A group of bovine beauties near the top of the Schöckl. Smile, girls!

Auf dem Schöckl

By far the highest elevation in these parts, at 1,500 meters, is a mountain called the Schöckl. It's about 15 miles out of town, a popular day trip destination for Grazers who consider the Schöckl their 'Hausberg', their private mountain. One can hike up (strenuous) or ride the cable car to the top. My plan was to take the cable car, but I missed the stop and continued on in the Postbus for another two stops, about half way up the mountain. From there it was a considerable hike to the top, but nothing like the death-defying climb I made in the Tyrol over a month ago. When the weather is clear one can see for many miles, as immortalized in the Broadway hit tune: "On a Clear Day You can see Slovenia" (which you supposedly can). It wasn't quite clear enough for that, but still quite impressive. There are several restaurants and cafés on top. It is also a place for paragliders to sail off into the blue yonder (see pic).
I treated myself to the cable car ride on the way down. Unfortunately I had just missed the bus back to Graz and the next one wasn't scheduled to show up for another two hours. Not to waste a perfectly fine summer day I set off on one of the marked trails through the delightful Austrian countryside in the direction of Graz. The first town is the modest spa of Sankt Radegund. It's a Luftkurort, a spa that offers especially good air. What is special about their air is a mystery to me. After two hours I had no idea where I was, having lost my bearings completely as the roads and paths wind around through the hills. I luckily found a road and a Postbus stop. The next bus was to tootle by in an hour. Threatening clouds were moving in from the east but fortunately the rain held off until the bus came. It was a spontaneous, adventure-filled day. This was my last free day before I leave. The performances and activities come at a furious pace during our last week here in Graz.

Hike along the Mur

After two hours I had 'done' Maribor. There was little else worth seeing. What to do with the rest of a spectacular summer day? No point in going back to Graz. Back at the station I enquired about a train to the town of Ptuj (pronounced pa-tooey). I had read in some guidebook that it was worth visiting. But the train did not run on Saturday, so pfooey to Ptuj. I thought a nice hike would be just the thing so I boarded the next train north and alit at the first station across the Austrian border, Spielfeld-Straß. I expected there would be marked hiking paths from there. Nearly every town has them. Walking down the hill from the station I found a Gaststätte (restaurant) in the sleepy town and enjoyed a lovely light lunch sitting under a chesnut tree. It was one of those 'life is good' moments. One has a lot of those in Europe. My speculation about hiking trails was confirmed in the fact that there were several. I chose the Murradweg (bike path along the River Mur) also called the Grenzweg (border path) beacuse it follows the river that separates Austria from Slovenia. The River Mur happens to be the stream that flows through Graz, so it is an old friend. I started off, happy as a lark. The asphalted trail is meant expressly for hikers and bikers. One finds a lot of trails of this sort in Europe. It followed the river for a while, passing lots of corn fields and fields of squash. The corn is not the sweet variety we prize so much; it is grown as feed for the pigs. Corn on the cob is still a rarity here (and it's expensive if you find it in a grocery store). The squash is used for making something called Kürbiskernöl (pumpkin seed oil). It's a Styrian specialty. They put it on everything. There were also stretches of forest, much appreciated as it was getting really hot. There were also a few sleepy villages along the way, like Unterschwarza and Oberschwarza. I walked until I got tired, had a rest, turned around and retraced my steps. I walked 12 km (8 miles), a little too much on a hot day. There were plenty of bikers, but these were people out for the fun of it, not the fanatical biking hordes I encountered in the Tyrol.

Another Drava vista

This is a somewhat wider view of the town from across the river. I had a look at a new shopping mall a friend urged me to visit. A shopping mall? They're all the same except that the signs here are in Slovenian. At least I got a nice photo for my efforts. Walking through the streets of the old town a bit later I stopped to examine a map of the town and heard some music drifting into my consciousness. It was a bit too exotic to be European. My ears did not deceive me: it was Indian music. A little ways up the street sat a lone Hare Krishna guy, shaved head, saffron robes, the whole kit, singing gently and accompanying himself on a harmonium. It was so unexpected and incongruous I did a double take. Passersby on the busy shopping street looked at him as if he had just landed from another planet. As I passed him I made an effort to nod and smile, to thank him for his courage. He flashed me a huge smile. The guy was blissed out. Hare Krishna y'all!

Bridge over the River Drava

We all know someone who, from a certain angle, with the right lighting, etc. looks pretty darn good. So does Maribor from the bridge over the Drava. In a lovely coincidence, the Drava (Drau in German) is the very same river whose source I saw outside of Toblach in the South Tyrol. It's all grown up here, a big river, having made it's way through three Austrian provinces and flowing into Slovenia at Dravograd. It will join the Danube somewhere in Serbia. The lady walking on the left is now forever immortalized on my blog. The setting of the town is very pretty, with its hills and vineyards. I have seen a picture of the old, pre-war Marburg. It must have been a lovely town.

Slovenia

I had Maribor, Slovenia on my list of places to visit this summer. It is only an hour away by train and, since it is in a country I have never visited, I thought it might be interesting. Maribor gets tepid reviews from my colleagues who have been there. I boarded an early train, the Vienna-Maribor Inter City Express and was on my way.
Until the debacle of the First World War the city was German-speaking and known as Marburg an der Drau (to distinguish it from the university town Marburg an der Lahn in Germany). Like so many other cities on the fringes of the German/Austrian Empires it was surrounded by a countryside populated by non-German speakers. After the demise of the Austro-Hungarian Empire Slovenia was established as an entity and the Germans were kicked out. As a former city of the Hapsburg Empire one would expect the usual imperial architecture. Unfortunately, not a whole lot of it remains in Maribor and what is left is pretty shabby. Slovenia was quick to embrace the west when the former Yugoslavia collapsed. It joined the European Union and it is the only former east bloc nation to switch to the euro currency. It has a high standard of living. But twenty years cannot erase the legacy of half a century of communist economic mismanagement. I applaud the Slovenes for doing as well as they have. From what I have seen in photos, it is a beautiful country. It even has it's own mountain range, the Julian Alps, and 50 km of Adriatic seacoast. But all that doesn't change the impression one gets of Maribor: it's a dull and dingy place.

I strolled from the train station to the town center. The cathedral was so unimpressive I almost overlooked it. That's it?? It is one of those churches that went through stylistic renovations through the centuries, starting as a Romanesque building, becoming Gothisized later on and finally Baroque-isized. It's the all too common fate of European sacred buildings. I have seen a lot of churches so it takes a lot to impress me. This one, inside and out, is on the level of any small town parish church. It's in the Slovene ho-hum-ski Baroque style. The Franciscan Basilica, which looked promising from the photo in a travel brochure, turned out to be an early 20th century copy. Sorry, 'neo' doesn't do it for me. Puhleeeeze. The photo is of a pleasant square in the center of town. The building is called a castle. Can't imagine why.

Schubert in Graz

Last week I was in the Old City, enjoying an after-dinner ice-cream with a friend before the orchestra concert taking place at the Stephaniensaal, when I noticed a bas relief of Schubert's familiar visage on a building across from where we were sitting with '1827' written under it. Schubert in Graz? I had no idea. A few nights ago I was enjoying an evening with friends in a popular beergarden, the Schuberthof Propeller. I thought nothing of the name because the place happens to be on Schubertstrasse. (If you think I spend a lot of time in ice-cream parlors, beergardens and restaurants, you're right, I do! -- it's part of the fun of spending the summer here.) One member of our party has been coming to Graz for a very long time and remembered the former incarnation of the Propeller as the Schuberthof. He went on to say that Schubert liked to come to Graz because of a special wine made here, and that, as legend would have it, he visited this very beergarden. You mean Schubert sat under these very trees? I asked incredulously. Back home I did a little research on the internet. It is true: Schubert came to Graz, but only on one occasion. The house with the plaque in the Herrengasse must be where he stayed. Here is a detailed account of that visit from the year 1827, copied from the website www.franzschubert.org.uk.

"Back in Vienna much of the summer was occupied trying to promote a performance of his (‘Great’) C major symphony, the score of which he had already presented to the Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde in the previous December. Two copyists had been busy with the immense task of preparing the orchestral parts and the work was put into rehearsal (according to Leopold Sonnleithner – writing in 1861, long after Schubert’s death), but "it was provisionally put on one side because of its length and difficulty".

On Sunday 2nd September Schubert left Vienna by coach in the company of Johann Baptist Jenger for a 24-hour journey to Graz, where they would stay with their host Doktor Karl Pachler. As the fare for this journey by express coach was 9 florins 20 kreuzer AC, Deutsch speculates that "Schubert may have obtained the means for this journey from the proceeds of Opp.75 and 87" (D599 and D713,637,638). Dr Pachler’s wife Maria was an exceptionally good pianist of whom Beethoven was able to write, "I have not found anyone who performed my compositions as well as you do". Whilst in Graz Schubert was present at an opera by Mayerbeer that was not to his liking, but an event of greater importance and appeal for Schubert came only a few days later when the Styrian Musical Society, of which he had been elected an honorary member in 1823, mounted a charity concert in his honour, from which the proceeds would be divided between the victims of recent floods and the widows and orphans of country schoolmasters. At this concert Schubert made one of his very few appearances as an accompanist at a public performance as he almost entirely restricted his piano playing to private gatherings. The pieces of his that were performed were the song Normans Gesang (Scott, D846), the quartet for male voices and piano Geist der Liebe (D747) and the female chorus Gott in der Natur (D757).

The Pachlers invited many friends and keen music lovers to several Schubertiads at which Schubert sang to his own accompaniment, there being no other singer present, and played piano duets with Jenger. He may also have played some of his first set of Impromptus (D899) that he had in preparation."