Airplane travel is certainly not what it used to be. My return trip was uneventful but it was not always pleasant. More than ten years ago, returning from an extensive Asian trip, I thought otherwise. Waiting for my last connecting flight in LAX on my homeward journey I reflected on the marvels of traveling in the early 21st century. I had arranged my itinerary on-line, had paid for my tickets by credit card and had breezed through about a dozen different airports (and some of the best in the world: Singapore, Hong Kong and Kuala Lampur) without a hitch. I thought at the time that travel was just swell. How exciting it was to be alive in an age of technological wonders and convenience! Then 9/11 changed everything.
No one would wax ecstatic about the joys of travel now. It is difficult, underscored by precautions and a sense of fear. Airports and planes are overcrowded. We get slapped with extra charges right and left. We are scrutinized by an army of security guards. We hope they are effective. Sadly, we know only too well that sooner or later another catastrophe will occur. Hopefully, we think quietly, it will not be on our flight.
I attended the second and final performance of FH. The 2,000 seat theater was nearly sold out. The crowd was enthusiastic, if a little noisy. (Can you believe that someone would bring an infant to the opera? The overture wasn't even finished before it started wailing, annoying everyone in the vicinity.) There was a technical glitch in the second act, where the visuals were lost for a while. The tech crew must have been frantic backstage trying to get the problem fixed. Fortunately, they did. Despite these minor annoyances, I enjoyed the opera even more this time.
The longest scene, the encounter of the Dutchman and Senta, occurs in the middle of the opera. It could be taken for a static stretch, but one must understand how crucial it is in the development of the dynamic between these two characters. It would take just a few minutes to read the text. Set to music, this encounter lasts about twenty minutes. It begins slowly, tentatively and builds to an enraptured duet. And if that weren't enough, Daland enters and we are launched into an even more ecstatic trio. Music has the capability of probing the emotional depths of a situation, of expressing the unutterable, and of intensifying every nuance. That is why a text in itself might be banal, but the music it is set to may be sublime. In Kay Walker Castaldo's intelligent direction the two protagonists, meeting for the very first time (and we have just heard Senta's Ballad and her inner yearning for this mysterious stranger) circle each other slowly. It was like two fighters in the ring scoping each other out. This is the center of the opera, the wheel around which the rest of the story revolves, the turn of the kaleidoscope that changes everything. It was a brilliant stroke to have the characters also revolve around each other. The reviewer of the opera in the local press is, I am told, really a theater critic and not a musician. He criticized the static nature of the piece, failing to understand the nature of music, the very raison d'être of combining words and music.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Friday, March 26, 2010
Success!
The reviews are in: opening night of "Der fliegende Holländer" at Mobile Opera was a great success. It was also a historic event: the first Wagner opera and the first opera in German to be done in Mobile. Of course, I lack objectivity as I was intimately involved in the process, but I will say that I was very impressed with the entire production. Amanda Mace shone in her portrayal of Senta with gorgeous, consistent singing. Her voice just soars and fills the hall; Doug Nagel's Holländer was imposing, sung with riveting emotional commitment; John Pickle played the hapless Erik with a performance worthy of any opera house. Kay Walker Castaldo's direction made the story come to life in a sensible and touching manner. (We can be grateful that we are not subjected to the moronic eurotrash that one sees in many European houses these days.) But the most striking aspects of this production were Barry Steele's lighting and visual effects. It is not enough to call them projections; the images we saw were three-dimensional and they moved. At times it was like watching a movie. During the overture a life-size ship glides across the stage; in the opening storm we see rain, so realistic that you could see individual raindrops splat upon the ground. I expected a flood of water to cascade off the stage into the pit. During the transitional music to the second scene we fly across a rocky sea landscape and enter the window of a wooden building to find ourselves suddenly in a room of Daland's house. I don't know how many lighting designers are experimenting with this type of technology, but this might be the wave of the future. Who needs expensive, cumbersome scenery when you can project images that move? (There was one set piece, however, a moveable, multi-tiered platform that suggested different levels of the ship.)
In honor of the event I have composed two haiku. Here they are:
Dutchman comes to call;
Senta gaga over him.
Loud singing ensues.
Two acts follow first;
On and on and on it goes...
will it ever end?
All joking aside, I have come to love FH. It is Wagner's first true masterpiece. Despite being a transitional work, employing many operatic conventions of the time, it gives us a glimpse into the revolutionary style that was to evolve. FH is the first of the composer's operas that uses the Leitmotif.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Old Christ Church
The Anglican church on Seville Square was built in 1832. During the Confederacy it was turned into a hospital. When the Union troops took the town they continued to use the building as such. It was restored in the 1870's but was later turned into the town library. Only recently has it become a church again. It is simple, but charming.
Pensacola
The faux Victorian house is in the newer part of the Village. It is painted lilac, a color that might make eyeballs pop in other parts of the country, but in Florida it fits right in. The other building is a historical one, overlooking the inner bay. Many of the homes were built raised about ten feet off the ground to protect them from the inevitable flood waters during storms. I suspect that this part of the bay is less vulnerable since it is protected by a barrier island. That island, Santa Rosa, has been rebuilt with new beach homes since the last major hurricane nearly wiped it off the map. People are certainly stubborn -- or incredibly stupid.
Pensacolum iterum
Now that the orchestra has taken over I find myself in the curious position of having nothing to do. I was booked for a return flight for Sunday because Andy thought I would be assigned to take care of the supertitles during the performances. Thank Wotan I am not (it's a really boring thing to do). We looked into changing my flight to an earlier date, but it proved too costly. So, I am stranded here for another four days. My hosts, ever hospitable, have no problem with that. I will attend the second dress rehearsal this evening and then both performances.
After a cold, rainy spell it has suddenly warmed up again with temperatures at a balmy 75 today. I decided to head back to Pensacola and enjoyed a near perfect day there. The Pensacola Village area, which abuts the downtown, has many structures from the early 1800's. No fewer than twenty-two buildings are marked as historic landmarks. One wonders how these fragile structures have survived two centuries of hurricanes. It is a delightful residential area. Even the modern section adjoining it is built in the style of the old Creole Bungalows. The Pensacola civic leaders made some wise decisions. The street names belie their Spanish origins, such as Zarragossa, Salamanca, Tarragona and Aragon Streets. After a scrumptious lunch in a cafe overlooking Seville Square I drove over the bay bridge to Santa Rosa Island which fronts the Gulf. The white sands are perfect for a long walk, accompanied by the sound of the crashing surf.
Friday, March 19, 2010
Live Oaks
The Ben May Main Library, where we performed our recent concert, adorned by live oak trees.
Of Flora and Hurricanes
We are moving into the next stage in the rehearsal process for FH. As of today we will be in the hall (which happens to be the Civic Center, not far from the Larkins Center where we have worked until now). And as of today most of the working sessions will be in the evening. And they will be long. Actually, once the orchestra takes over my work is done. I will have a lot of free time.
I think I have already visited the most interesting places in the area. To the west are Pascagoula and Biloxi, both in Mississippi. The first is an industrial port city, the second is the home of many gambling casinos, something which holds zero interest for me. Besides, both cities were ravaged by Katrina and have not yet fully recovered. Further to the west, about two hours from here, is New Orleans. I have no interest in going there either. Since I have returned from Pensacola my hosts have showed me a book of photos commemorating the devastation to the Gulf Coast by Hurricane Ivan in 2004. It moved up Mobile Bay with winds of 140 mph and was supposed to hit the city of Mobile directly. Instead, at the last moment, the storm veered to the east towards Pensacola. I was so impressed by how neat and fixed-up the that city looked. The reason for that would be that the city was nearly destroyed and has been rebuilt. The destruction was far-reaching and devastating. I saw photos of places I visited. Now there is hardly a trace of damage to be seen; at the time it looked like an atomic bomb had gone off. Even the beach road showed little sign of destruction. There were quite a few empty lots. Now I know why. The buildings that once stood there were swept away by the storm surge and the winds. Pensacola is to be applauded for having cleaned the place up so well and so fast. We remember that much of southern Louisiana is still abandoned. And that, I am told, illustrates the way things are done in Florida as opposed to other states on the Gulf Coast.
Today is a peach of a day, sunny and with temperatures in the mid 70's. The azaleas are coming out, along with the red-bud trees, forsythia and other species of flora unknown to me. The entire state of Alabama was once covered with pine forests. It is still the predominant tree as it thrives in the sandy soil. But there are other species of trees as well. Especially noteworthy are the magnificent oak trees which spread their branches out most luxuriously. They live for centuries. In the historic part of town Government Street boasts a long stretch of these mighty oaks on both sides of the street. The overhanging branches have created an arbor of shade like the gothic nave of a great cathedral.
Not everyone in the south speaks with a 'southern' drawl. As a matter of fact, few younger people do -- at least not in the city. Perhaps the local dialect is more prevalent in rural areas. Older, educated people are more likely to speak with that lovely, drawn out, molto lento cadence in their speech. It would be a pity if the local dialect died out. It is something distinctive and valuable. Our commercialized society is far too homogenized and Walmart-ized already.
I think I have already visited the most interesting places in the area. To the west are Pascagoula and Biloxi, both in Mississippi. The first is an industrial port city, the second is the home of many gambling casinos, something which holds zero interest for me. Besides, both cities were ravaged by Katrina and have not yet fully recovered. Further to the west, about two hours from here, is New Orleans. I have no interest in going there either. Since I have returned from Pensacola my hosts have showed me a book of photos commemorating the devastation to the Gulf Coast by Hurricane Ivan in 2004. It moved up Mobile Bay with winds of 140 mph and was supposed to hit the city of Mobile directly. Instead, at the last moment, the storm veered to the east towards Pensacola. I was so impressed by how neat and fixed-up the that city looked. The reason for that would be that the city was nearly destroyed and has been rebuilt. The destruction was far-reaching and devastating. I saw photos of places I visited. Now there is hardly a trace of damage to be seen; at the time it looked like an atomic bomb had gone off. Even the beach road showed little sign of destruction. There were quite a few empty lots. Now I know why. The buildings that once stood there were swept away by the storm surge and the winds. Pensacola is to be applauded for having cleaned the place up so well and so fast. We remember that much of southern Louisiana is still abandoned. And that, I am told, illustrates the way things are done in Florida as opposed to other states on the Gulf Coast.
Today is a peach of a day, sunny and with temperatures in the mid 70's. The azaleas are coming out, along with the red-bud trees, forsythia and other species of flora unknown to me. The entire state of Alabama was once covered with pine forests. It is still the predominant tree as it thrives in the sandy soil. But there are other species of trees as well. Especially noteworthy are the magnificent oak trees which spread their branches out most luxuriously. They live for centuries. In the historic part of town Government Street boasts a long stretch of these mighty oaks on both sides of the street. The overhanging branches have created an arbor of shade like the gothic nave of a great cathedral.
Not everyone in the south speaks with a 'southern' drawl. As a matter of fact, few younger people do -- at least not in the city. Perhaps the local dialect is more prevalent in rural areas. Older, educated people are more likely to speak with that lovely, drawn out, molto lento cadence in their speech. It would be a pity if the local dialect died out. It is something distinctive and valuable. Our commercialized society is far too homogenized and Walmart-ized already.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
The Rehearsal Accompanist
This sounds like the title of a best selling novel, along the lines of "The Reader" or "The Illusionist". Since this is my blog, I can address those issues that concern me. Who gives a thought to the rehearsal accompanist, the person who sits uncomplainingly for hours on end at the keyboard, playing the same scene over and over again? Who shows up for EVERY rehearsal, sits patiently through hours of boring staging rehearsals? Who tries his best to be the ersatz orchestra and allows the conductor to make all his mistakes before moving on to the real thing? It's the rehearsal accompanist, that's who! We're often used and abused and completely taken for granted. But we know our worth and quietly do our work. I love what I do and am grateful that I have the opportunity to do something as interesting and challenging as "Der fliegende Holländer". And I'm not complaining at all about my treatment here in Mobile. Everyone is wonderful. The chorus members think I'm god's gift to music. (it's nice to be appreciated.)
When I started working on the score of FH I realized that it would take a lot of work to learn it. I wanted to do my best and practiced lots of difficult passages in the score. When I arrived here I quickly learned that the Maestro's tempi were mostly faster than I anticipated and the piano in the rehearsal hall has a stiff action, meaning that I couldn't execute many of those fast octave passages and the like at all. So, I have been re-working much of the score, simplifying as much as I can. I feel like I am on a fast moving ship, throwing things overboard. No one is interested in how deftly I can play the details. It's all about the basics. There are parts of the score I can almost play on automatic at this point, other sections require continual concentration.
The concert at the Mobile Public Library the other day was a great success. We had lots of opera arias, but also a few art songs and musical numbers. The audience was very enthusisastic. I got to play Strauss' "Morgen" on a fine instrument. This is the kind of concert I enjoy playing the most -- no pressure and for an appreciative audience.
When I started working on the score of FH I realized that it would take a lot of work to learn it. I wanted to do my best and practiced lots of difficult passages in the score. When I arrived here I quickly learned that the Maestro's tempi were mostly faster than I anticipated and the piano in the rehearsal hall has a stiff action, meaning that I couldn't execute many of those fast octave passages and the like at all. So, I have been re-working much of the score, simplifying as much as I can. I feel like I am on a fast moving ship, throwing things overboard. No one is interested in how deftly I can play the details. It's all about the basics. There are parts of the score I can almost play on automatic at this point, other sections require continual concentration.
The concert at the Mobile Public Library the other day was a great success. We had lots of opera arias, but also a few art songs and musical numbers. The audience was very enthusisastic. I got to play Strauss' "Morgen" on a fine instrument. This is the kind of concert I enjoy playing the most -- no pressure and for an appreciative audience.
The Apotheosis of Senta and the Dutchman
We need a bit of lightening up here on the rocky coast of Norway. For the past few days we have been working hard on Act III. It opens with two opposing men's choruses, that of Daland's ship and the Ghost Ship. "Steuermann, lasst die Wacht!" must be one of the most difficult opera choruses in the entire repertory. The Mobilians are making a valiant attempt at it. Actually, the men are doing better than the women. The latter are consistently behind the beat in every single number they sing. Maybe we need to offer them strong coffee. Wagner's directions for the finale of the opera are all but impossible to follow. Here is the translation thereof from my score:
"Senta casts herself into the sea. The Dutchman's ship, with all her crew, sings immediately. The sea rises high, and sinks back in a whirlpool. In the glow of the sunset are clearly seen, over the wreck of the ship, the forms of Senta and the Dutchman embracing each other, rising from the sea and floating upwards."
Is he kidding? How on earth is anyone supposed to portray that? Mobile Opera has hired one of the country's foremost lighting designers to create video projections. These can be vastly more effective than scenery. Yesterday there was a session with the two principals in a salt water pool where they were filmed under water, be-wigged and in costume. (I wasn't there, but heard that, because of the wet suits they were wearing, they were so buoyant it was a problem keeping them submerged long enough to do the takes.) These images will be projected to portray the marine apotheosis of Senta and the Dutchman. I am very curious to see what this will look like. If the under water shots didn't work out there is always the option of projecting Kermit and Miss Piggy and ending the opera on a comic note. (An audio clip of the Act III opening chorus can be found here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fztb-TipoH0)
Friday, March 12, 2010
The Gulf Coast
A visit to Pensacola would not have been complete without a walk along the ocean. There is a long causeway that crosses the water to the barrier island that is Pensacola Beach. The Florida Panhandle beaches are famous for their fine white sand. Because the shore is visited by so many naval personnel this stretch is also known as the Redneck Riviera.
Pensacola
Mid-afternoon I headed east towards Pensacola, Florida. It is about an hour away. I had no great urge to go there, but I had read that it was a historic city, and it was in Florida, and I had never been there. It is one of the nicest small cities I have ever visited in the States, bright, clean and prosperous. It was founded in 1559 and claims to be the oldest settlement in the USA (take that, Jamestown!). Saint Augustine, on the Atlantic coast, founded in 1565, can lay claim to be the oldest continuously inhabited city in the continental US. After the Spanish initially established themselves in what is now Pensacola with a large contingent of ships and people (1,500) they abandoned the settlement a few years later. The reason was a devastating hurricane. The surviving inhabitants then moved up the Atlantic coast to an island off the Carolinas, but a hurricane found them there, too. After that they gave up. Pensacola has been under the flag of the Spanish, French, British, Confederate States and, of course, the USA. It became part of the nation in 1821 when the Spanish relinquished their claim to Florida. Andrew Jackson was its first Governor and Pensacola its biggest settlement.
Besides the attractive business district there is Pensacola Village, a neighborhood of picturesque clapboard and Victorian style bungalows. I suspect that the apparent prosperity of the town is due to the proximity of a large naval base.
From the downtown area it is only a walk of a few blocks to the harbor. There was this curious looking vessel berthed there, the HOS Achiever. After a bit of investigating on the internet I have discovered that it is an all-purpose delivery vessel, serving off-shore oil rigs and things like that. There is what I guess to be a helicopter landing pad on the front of the vessel. It's the weirdest ship I've ever seen.
Hibiscus
In the hothouse there was the biggest hibiscus bloom I have ever seen. It was as big as a bread plate.
Bellingrath Gardens
Today was a day off for the company. After a relaxing morning I headed off for the Bellingrath Gardens, the site of a house/museum and extensive grounds located just outside of Mobile. (It was so nice of the opera company to provide me with a car.) After a brief stretch on the Interstate headed west, towards Pascagoula (just love that name -- it's so Southern!) one turns south along the coast of Mobile Bay. The Bellingrath house was completed in 1935. Mr. B acquired the franchise for Coca-Cola in South Alabama in 1903 and made a fortune off of it. People must have been drinking a whole lotta coke back then too. While Mr. B raked in the dough Mrs. B went on a marathon shopping spree. The house itself, although it was built from bricks and iron work salvaged from fine homes in Mobile that were (sadly) demolished, is not at all impressive. Though it is big -- something like 10,000 square feet with three dining rooms. Evidently the Bellingraths liked to entertain. The place is crammed with furniture and various objets d'art. Mrs. B was inordinately fond of porcelain, the Meissen and Sèvres kind. The furniture, while of superior quality, is late Victorian, dark and heavy. There was a collection of nine complete dinner services. The silverware had a room of its own. The tour of the house was led by a lovely lady with a drawl so thick you could have spread it on biscuits. It was delightful. Due to the unusually cold winter everything is behind schedule in the gardens. The azaleas should be out but they have barely begun. Nevertheless it was a treat to see tulips, daffodils and hyacinths. The Japanese magnolias are in full bloom and they are glorious. Today it was in the mid 70's, just perfect weather for an outing.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Major General Daland
There is a concert planned for Sunday featuring all the principals in the cast of FH and a few talented singers from the chorus. It is meant to be a promotional event for the opera. The baritone singing Daland told me he would sing the famous patter song from "Pirates of Penzance". Wouldn't it be fun, I thought, to include a parody verse pertinent to FH? Although Patrick has since decided to sing something else (and if you must know, it's going to be "O du mein holder Abendstern"), I decided to make up a parody verse anyway. I have to do something to occupy myself during those tedious staging rehearsals! To refresh your memory, W.S. Gilbert's original lyric goes like this:
"I am the very model of a modern Major-General, I've information vegetable, animal and mineral", etc.
Further on is my favorite line: "Then I can hum a fugue of which I've heard the music's din afore
And whistle all the airs from that infernal nonsense "Pinafore".
Each verse has lines of 16 syllables, in rhymed couplets. Here is the parody:
I am the very model of a gruff Norwegian sailor man,
I know my daughter's funky moods and nab a Dutchman when I can;
The maidens sing and sew their sails, the sailors wail their lusty song,
Then Senta croons a rousing tune -- this opera really is too long!
I can sing loud Hojotohos and like Brünnhilde make a din,
And whistle all the airs from that infernal nonsense "Lohengrin".
From Alberich to Wotan's spear in order categorical
I know the leitmotifs of every bit -- I'm ever so fanatical!
Chorus: From Alberich to Wotan's spear in order categorical
He knows the leitmotifs of every bit -- he's ever so fanatical!
"I am the very model of a modern Major-General, I've information vegetable, animal and mineral", etc.
Further on is my favorite line: "Then I can hum a fugue of which I've heard the music's din afore
And whistle all the airs from that infernal nonsense "Pinafore".
Each verse has lines of 16 syllables, in rhymed couplets. Here is the parody:
I am the very model of a gruff Norwegian sailor man,
I know my daughter's funky moods and nab a Dutchman when I can;
The maidens sing and sew their sails, the sailors wail their lusty song,
Then Senta croons a rousing tune -- this opera really is too long!
I can sing loud Hojotohos and like Brünnhilde make a din,
And whistle all the airs from that infernal nonsense "Lohengrin".
From Alberich to Wotan's spear in order categorical
I know the leitmotifs of every bit -- I'm ever so fanatical!
Chorus: From Alberich to Wotan's spear in order categorical
He knows the leitmotifs of every bit -- he's ever so fanatical!
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Summ' und brumm'
We've been having staging rehearsals for only three days but I feel like I have been at it for a month. Last night we actually ran Act I. It went very well, without any major mishap. The men's chorus, though not large, sounds really good. They are in the opening scene, sailors aboard Daland's ship which has just landed on a steep, rocky shore. Soon thereafter the Ghost Ship appears and we meet the Dutchman. As the result of a curse he wanders the ocean and is only premitted to land once every seven years. And this is the day. Oh, boy! One imagines that he must be really horny. In the ensuing aria (the famous "Die Frist ist um") and the (really long) duet with Daland we learn that the Dutchman has a chest of great riches. He's willing to cash it in for the nearest babe. Anyone will do, apparently. Daland happens to have a daughter (Senta), a convenient coincidence for the unfolding of the plot, of course, and he has no compunctions about trading her in for the filthy lucre. The Dutchman's curse can only be lifted through the love of a woman, the redemption motif we find in many of Wagner's operas. Everyone is happy -- for the moment, anyway. The chorus, which has been backstage all this time and has read "War and Peace" from cover to cover in the interim, appears again to bring the act to a rousing close.
Today we will begin staging the second act in which we meet Senta and her maid Maria along with the chorus of village girls. They are in Daland's house, busily spinning away. This is the famous Spinning Chorus ("Summ' und brumm', du gutes Rädchen"), one of the highlights of the show. Daland appears and introduces the Dutchman. He and Senta hit it off right away. Senta actually has a boyfriend, the hapless Erik, but she dumps him in a flash. We suspect that at this point, after seven years at sea, the Dutchman would get engaged to the neighbor's goat, if it would get the curse lifted. The act concludes with a (long) duet and trio. The music is magnificent, but Wagner does take his sweet time.
There are usually two rehearsal sessions a day, afternoon and evening. Tomorrow there will also be a morning session which means that I will be playing all day. I am enjoying getting to know the other cast memebers. Soon we will have visited all the eateries in downtown Mobile.
The climate is much milder here, of course, though the South has also endured an unusually cold winter. The daytime temps are near 70. The Japanese magnolias, also known as tulip trees, are already in bloom. Downtown flower beds have been planted with colorful pansies. It's spring!
Today we will begin staging the second act in which we meet Senta and her maid Maria along with the chorus of village girls. They are in Daland's house, busily spinning away. This is the famous Spinning Chorus ("Summ' und brumm', du gutes Rädchen"), one of the highlights of the show. Daland appears and introduces the Dutchman. He and Senta hit it off right away. Senta actually has a boyfriend, the hapless Erik, but she dumps him in a flash. We suspect that at this point, after seven years at sea, the Dutchman would get engaged to the neighbor's goat, if it would get the curse lifted. The act concludes with a (long) duet and trio. The music is magnificent, but Wagner does take his sweet time.
There are usually two rehearsal sessions a day, afternoon and evening. Tomorrow there will also be a morning session which means that I will be playing all day. I am enjoying getting to know the other cast memebers. Soon we will have visited all the eateries in downtown Mobile.
The climate is much milder here, of course, though the South has also endured an unusually cold winter. The daytime temps are near 70. The Japanese magnolias, also known as tulip trees, are already in bloom. Downtown flower beds have been planted with colorful pansies. It's spring!
Mobile Cathedral
The Cathedral Basilica of the Immaculate Conception was begun in the early nineteenth century. The classical portico was added later. The inside has been recently restored and is very beautiful.
Monday, March 8, 2010
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Hey, y'all!
I am now in the Deep South. Does it get any deeper than this? Mobile is one of the oldest cities in the nation. It was founded in 1702 by the same French brothers who established New Orleans. Mobile has much in common with its larger neighbor to the west. The historic district looks very much like the French Quarter of the Louisiana metropolis. It is, of course, smaller, but it oozes southern charm. Mobile is the only seaport in Alabama. It was the site of a famous sea battle during the Civil War (unsurprisingly named Battle of Mobile Bay) in which the Union forces gained control of the bay. During WW II this was a boom town due to the shipyards located here. The town went into decline thereafter but has since sprung back to life. Many of the fine old buildings in the downtown area have been restored to their former glory.
The opera company has housed me with some partrons who live in the suburbs and provided me with a rental car for the duration. My hosts, Kevin and Jeff, took me out to breakfast at a place frequented by the locals, the Tiny Diny. Its slogan is: Park your Hiney at the Tiny Diny. That would give a good indication of the general ambience of the place. I loved it. I had an omlet (their spelling) with grits. Grits are a southern staple, of course. The dish is very similar to farina, I think, with a good bit of butter in it. I enjoy the local manner of speech (and yes, they do say 'y'all' -- a lot) and the mannerly tone of social intercourse. It reminds me of Austria, actually, where people are exceptionally polite and solicitous.
Yesterday we met for the first time in an afternoon session. It was a sing-through with the principals (no chorus). We were missing the mezzo, who was otherwise engaged. The singer doing the Holländer has done the role at least half a dozen times. The Senta, Amanda Mace, is tackling her formidable role for the first time. Amanda has been singing and living in Europe for the past eight years. She commented on how differently things work here. For example, our conductor is very easy going and accomodating of the singers. The European way of doing things is very authoritarian: what the conductor says goes, no discussion.
I went into town early (the rehearsal hall is on Dauphin Street, the main drag in the historic district) to have a look around. It is a charming town. There are many lovely old bulidings and small parks. This is a very Catholic town and the French influence is still present, mostly in place names and the like. Of course, these have been anglicized: Bienville Park is pronounced 'byenvill' and Dauphin Street has become 'dawfin'. In the evening we had the first staging rehearsal, starting with Act I. Anyone who has been through the process of staging an opera knows that it can be a long and tedious ordeal, with a good deal of sitting around and repetition. The director has done the show before and has clear ideas of what she wants. This is hard work for me as I play every rehearsal, but there is a lot of socializing that will go on as we work together. On our dinner break we visited one of the many restaurants in the area, one specializing in Thai cuisine. The commercial district has not yet been invaded by the otherwise ubiquitous chain restaurants and stores. All the businesses seem to be locally owned. May it stay that way.
The opera company has housed me with some partrons who live in the suburbs and provided me with a rental car for the duration. My hosts, Kevin and Jeff, took me out to breakfast at a place frequented by the locals, the Tiny Diny. Its slogan is: Park your Hiney at the Tiny Diny. That would give a good indication of the general ambience of the place. I loved it. I had an omlet (their spelling) with grits. Grits are a southern staple, of course. The dish is very similar to farina, I think, with a good bit of butter in it. I enjoy the local manner of speech (and yes, they do say 'y'all' -- a lot) and the mannerly tone of social intercourse. It reminds me of Austria, actually, where people are exceptionally polite and solicitous.
Yesterday we met for the first time in an afternoon session. It was a sing-through with the principals (no chorus). We were missing the mezzo, who was otherwise engaged. The singer doing the Holländer has done the role at least half a dozen times. The Senta, Amanda Mace, is tackling her formidable role for the first time. Amanda has been singing and living in Europe for the past eight years. She commented on how differently things work here. For example, our conductor is very easy going and accomodating of the singers. The European way of doing things is very authoritarian: what the conductor says goes, no discussion.
I went into town early (the rehearsal hall is on Dauphin Street, the main drag in the historic district) to have a look around. It is a charming town. There are many lovely old bulidings and small parks. This is a very Catholic town and the French influence is still present, mostly in place names and the like. Of course, these have been anglicized: Bienville Park is pronounced 'byenvill' and Dauphin Street has become 'dawfin'. In the evening we had the first staging rehearsal, starting with Act I. Anyone who has been through the process of staging an opera knows that it can be a long and tedious ordeal, with a good deal of sitting around and repetition. The director has done the show before and has clear ideas of what she wants. This is hard work for me as I play every rehearsal, but there is a lot of socializing that will go on as we work together. On our dinner break we visited one of the many restaurants in the area, one specializing in Thai cuisine. The commercial district has not yet been invaded by the otherwise ubiquitous chain restaurants and stores. All the businesses seem to be locally owned. May it stay that way.
Friday, March 5, 2010
KC to Mobile
About six months ago, over a couple of beers at Harry's Bar in Westport, the Artistic Director of the Mobile Opera Company, Andy Anderson, asked me if I would be interested in coming down to Mobile in the spring to assist in the preparation of the upcoming production of Wagner's "Der fliegende Holländer". I immediately said I would but wondered how I would manage to take three weeks off in the middle of the semester. In my twenty-five years of service at the Conservatory I have never taken a sabbatical or a leave of absence. Many of my colleagues go off regularly to sing roles or play concerts or teach elsewhere. I decided that my turn had come. Granted, I'm not a tenured faculty member, but let's not quibble over status! It took me hours of work and countless e-mails to line up the crew to cover my work at the Conservatory. I am not indespensible, of course, but there are not that many capable people out there who do what I do. And all the good ones are really busy. But I managed to cover every lesson and every coaching. It may take a village to raise a child but it takes an army of pianists and coaches to cover my duties at the Conservatory.
I have prepared many opera scores in my day and have often played rehearsals for our professional company in town, the Kansas City Lyric Opera, but I have never been hired to be the official pianist for an out-of-town professional opera company. This would be a first for me, and an interesting project as well. We don't do enough Wagner at the Conservatory! Actually, we don't do any. I had a look at the FH score last summer and thought: egads, what have I gotten myself into? I would count FH among the more difficult scores I have ever had to prepare. (In case you're curious, the most demanding scores I have had to play are Strauss' "Ariadne auf Naxos", Britten's "Midsummer's Night Dream", Adamo's "Little Women", and topping the list "Lysistrata", again by Mark Adamo. That one nearly drove me insane.) FH is doable, it just takes a bit of mental re-writing.
Leading the cast of the opera in the role of Senta is soprano Amanda Mace. I remember Amanda from the time she spent at the Conservatory working on her undergraduate degree. She is one of our greatest success stories. Two years ago she made her début at the Bayreuther Festspiel (singing Eva in "Meistersinger"). She lives in Munich now and has professional engagements all over Europe. When Andy told me that he had cast every role except Senta, and that he would ideally love to have Amanda Mace for it, I suggested he simply ask her. The worst she could say would be no. It turned out that she wanted to learn the role and try it out somewhere, and she happened to have the block of time free in order to come over to the States and do it. Thus, one of Europe's rising stars on the Wagnerian horizon will grace the stage at Mobile Opera.
The remaining members of the cast (and that would be the mezzo Maria, der Holländer, der Steuerman, Daland and Erik) are all seasoned professionals. The opera demands a huge chorus, two men's choruses in fact. I am curious to hear what forces Andy has mustered. All the principals and myself are arriving in Mobile today. We are invited to the maestro's house for an informal get together this evening. Knowing Andy's culinary skills and his excellent taste in wines it should be a very pleasant evening indeed.
I have prepared many opera scores in my day and have often played rehearsals for our professional company in town, the Kansas City Lyric Opera, but I have never been hired to be the official pianist for an out-of-town professional opera company. This would be a first for me, and an interesting project as well. We don't do enough Wagner at the Conservatory! Actually, we don't do any. I had a look at the FH score last summer and thought: egads, what have I gotten myself into? I would count FH among the more difficult scores I have ever had to prepare. (In case you're curious, the most demanding scores I have had to play are Strauss' "Ariadne auf Naxos", Britten's "Midsummer's Night Dream", Adamo's "Little Women", and topping the list "Lysistrata", again by Mark Adamo. That one nearly drove me insane.) FH is doable, it just takes a bit of mental re-writing.
Leading the cast of the opera in the role of Senta is soprano Amanda Mace. I remember Amanda from the time she spent at the Conservatory working on her undergraduate degree. She is one of our greatest success stories. Two years ago she made her début at the Bayreuther Festspiel (singing Eva in "Meistersinger"). She lives in Munich now and has professional engagements all over Europe. When Andy told me that he had cast every role except Senta, and that he would ideally love to have Amanda Mace for it, I suggested he simply ask her. The worst she could say would be no. It turned out that she wanted to learn the role and try it out somewhere, and she happened to have the block of time free in order to come over to the States and do it. Thus, one of Europe's rising stars on the Wagnerian horizon will grace the stage at Mobile Opera.
The remaining members of the cast (and that would be the mezzo Maria, der Holländer, der Steuerman, Daland and Erik) are all seasoned professionals. The opera demands a huge chorus, two men's choruses in fact. I am curious to hear what forces Andy has mustered. All the principals and myself are arriving in Mobile today. We are invited to the maestro's house for an informal get together this evening. Knowing Andy's culinary skills and his excellent taste in wines it should be a very pleasant evening indeed.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Olympic Dreams
I had no intention of watching the recent Olympic Games but, alas, I somehow got hooked and tuned in for quite a few hours. Some of that time was enjoyable and instructive. Who knew that speed skating could keep you on the edge of your seat? But the manner in which NBC broadcasted the games became increasingly annoying. I refer to the veritable orgy of commercialism that washed over us like a tsunami. Not only were the events frequently interrupted by interminable commercial breaks, you couldn’t watch a single clip on the NBC website without viewing another commercial. Enough already! Granted, NBC shelled out a gazillion dollars for the rights to broadcast the games, but can’t we find a better way to do this? Why do we, as a civilization, put up with this?
There were moments of agony and of ecstasy, all played out on the world stage. There were a few incidences that struck me as worthy of special consideration. Take the case of the Dutch speed skater Sven Kramer. One week he won the gold in the 5,000 meter race and was on top the world, having achieved the Olympic dream and glory for his nation. The following week he crossed the finish line first in another race but was immediately disqualified due to an unfortunate communication from his coach. He was understandably frustrated at the outcome and was visibly shaking with anger. It was a heartbreaking moment. Poor guy. One can imagine that he will replay those few seconds of that race for the rest of his life. Most people would do that. What can we learn here? Two things, I think. First, that nothing is permanent in this world. Happiness can be changed into gloom in a second. There is nothing we can hold onto. Even the best moments slip out of our fingers before we even realize it. Secondly, that if you pin your happiness to events in the external world you are playing with fire. Understandably, being a world class athlete, Sven Kramer was intensely focused on the outcome of his race. But if he examines the cause of suffering he will perhaps learn that, by being attached to the outcome, he had created suffering for himself. That’s just how the cookie crumbles. I wish him well. May he enjoy peace and a life free of suffering.
Then there was the extraordinary spectacle of the Canadian figure skater Joannie Rochette. Her mother died in Vancouver, having just arrived, expecting to savor the Olympic success of her daughter. It was reported that Joannie was an only child and that she and her mother were very close. It was very moving to see her go out on the ice under such trying circumstances and actually do her routine. At the end of it she broke down. There was probably not a dry eye in the house. The audience cheered and cheered for her. I was struck by our capacity for empathy, our ability to feel the suffering of others, to put ourselves in the shoes of our fellow beings. We all know what the bond with our parents can mean. Each one of us could imagine what the lovely and talented Ms Rochette was going through and our hearts opened up to her. This ability to empathize is something that puts us apart from all the other species on the planet. Few other animals have any regard for the plight of their kind. (I think elephants and perhaps apes are the only other species that has been known to show an inkling of concern for their own.)
I know that Schadenfreude is not the most noble of sentiments, but I couldn’t help feeling that justice had been done when, in an early men’s speed skating race, two of the Koreans in the lead both slipped and knocked each other out of the race. The Koreans are particularly apt to cheat and this was, I thought, an example of karma in action. Their poor sportsmanship came back to bite them in the ass. And they did it to themselves – that was the beauty of it! I indulged in another moment of Schadenfreude when the Russian figure skater, Yevgeny Plushenko, was awarded the silver. He made an impression of being smug and arrogant, even bad-mouthing his competitors before the competition. He was so convinced that he should have won the gold medal that he later ‘awarded’ himself a platinum medal on his website! How’s that for the height of arrogance! The fact the he got ‘only’ the silver medal is the lesson the universe has given him. May he learn from it.
Lastly, there was the famous hockey match between the USA and Canada. I don’t give a flying puck about hockey, but I dearly wanted the Canadians to win. It is their national sport, the games were held on Canadian soil. It seemed only fair and right that they should win that bit of glory. If I were the King of the World, I thought, I would let them win. And – they did -- in spectacular fashion! Go, Canada!
There were moments of agony and of ecstasy, all played out on the world stage. There were a few incidences that struck me as worthy of special consideration. Take the case of the Dutch speed skater Sven Kramer. One week he won the gold in the 5,000 meter race and was on top the world, having achieved the Olympic dream and glory for his nation. The following week he crossed the finish line first in another race but was immediately disqualified due to an unfortunate communication from his coach. He was understandably frustrated at the outcome and was visibly shaking with anger. It was a heartbreaking moment. Poor guy. One can imagine that he will replay those few seconds of that race for the rest of his life. Most people would do that. What can we learn here? Two things, I think. First, that nothing is permanent in this world. Happiness can be changed into gloom in a second. There is nothing we can hold onto. Even the best moments slip out of our fingers before we even realize it. Secondly, that if you pin your happiness to events in the external world you are playing with fire. Understandably, being a world class athlete, Sven Kramer was intensely focused on the outcome of his race. But if he examines the cause of suffering he will perhaps learn that, by being attached to the outcome, he had created suffering for himself. That’s just how the cookie crumbles. I wish him well. May he enjoy peace and a life free of suffering.
Then there was the extraordinary spectacle of the Canadian figure skater Joannie Rochette. Her mother died in Vancouver, having just arrived, expecting to savor the Olympic success of her daughter. It was reported that Joannie was an only child and that she and her mother were very close. It was very moving to see her go out on the ice under such trying circumstances and actually do her routine. At the end of it she broke down. There was probably not a dry eye in the house. The audience cheered and cheered for her. I was struck by our capacity for empathy, our ability to feel the suffering of others, to put ourselves in the shoes of our fellow beings. We all know what the bond with our parents can mean. Each one of us could imagine what the lovely and talented Ms Rochette was going through and our hearts opened up to her. This ability to empathize is something that puts us apart from all the other species on the planet. Few other animals have any regard for the plight of their kind. (I think elephants and perhaps apes are the only other species that has been known to show an inkling of concern for their own.)
I know that Schadenfreude is not the most noble of sentiments, but I couldn’t help feeling that justice had been done when, in an early men’s speed skating race, two of the Koreans in the lead both slipped and knocked each other out of the race. The Koreans are particularly apt to cheat and this was, I thought, an example of karma in action. Their poor sportsmanship came back to bite them in the ass. And they did it to themselves – that was the beauty of it! I indulged in another moment of Schadenfreude when the Russian figure skater, Yevgeny Plushenko, was awarded the silver. He made an impression of being smug and arrogant, even bad-mouthing his competitors before the competition. He was so convinced that he should have won the gold medal that he later ‘awarded’ himself a platinum medal on his website! How’s that for the height of arrogance! The fact the he got ‘only’ the silver medal is the lesson the universe has given him. May he learn from it.
Lastly, there was the famous hockey match between the USA and Canada. I don’t give a flying puck about hockey, but I dearly wanted the Canadians to win. It is their national sport, the games were held on Canadian soil. It seemed only fair and right that they should win that bit of glory. If I were the King of the World, I thought, I would let them win. And – they did -- in spectacular fashion! Go, Canada!
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