Blue Spring

I am a bit embarrassed by the thinness of news I have to report. This summer there will be no Baroque churches, no imposing snow-capped peaks, no delectable Austrian cuisine and no museums crammed with treasures to enthuse about. Yet, life is lovely here in the Ozarks. I count my blessings in being here in a country environment, doing what I love to do. The hours can be long, but the work is rewarding. I spend most of my time coaching "Little Women", a formidable piece even if one has done it before (as I have), and I have done a bit of work with "Figaro" and "Fledermaus" as well. Those lovely tunes from Strauss's masterpiece make me nostalgic for Graz and Austria.

Finally the storms and their attendant tornados have moved off, leaving us with cloudless skies and warm weather. Yesterday, Sunday morning, I explored the neighborhood a bit, hiking down a side road, just across from OIO, that goes down to Blue Spring. This is advertised as a historic site. The walk down was very pleasant, affording splendid views of the White River valley. Blue Spring is a natural spring that spews 38 million gallons (I have that fact memorized by now) of pure water into the river every day. It was a sacred site to the indigenous dwellers of the area. Later on, healing properties were ascribed to its waters, giving birth to the town of Eureka Springs as a kind of spa. With a convenient mill on the river the town also became the center of a logging industry.
The spring itself has been dammed and expanded into a wide pool surrounded by gardens. None of that was to be seen today as it is all underwater. The pic shows the swollen White River. The Blue Spring site has the inevitable gift shop, but also a small museum that offers a short video about the history of the area. I found that worthwhile. Otherwise, there wasn't a whole lot to see down there apart from water everywhere.

Tulips

My friend Jason Pollen created this pic of tulips. He is a wiz at photo shop and made it look like it was painted.

OIO

During the first two days here we heard auditions. I am very impressed with the level of talent at OIO. The artistic director has a great attitude and a winning sense of humor. He has set the tone for a friendly atmosphere of mutual support and cooperation. I am housed in a unit that resembles a budget motel, but I am very pleased with it. I have a nice, clean single room with a bathroom all to myself. I brought along a large Tibetan tangka and an oriental rug to add a bit of class to my rural digs (one must not let one's standards slip!). It is very quiet here in the evening, I think I will get along here very well.
The pics show the views to the north and the south.

Back in the Mountains

Isn't it curious how, if one simply goes with the flow of what life has to offer, one door may close and another one, completely unexpected, opens in its place? That is how things seem to work for me anyway. I was, of course, disappointed in not returning to Graz this summer. It was the way things worked out. I didn't look forward to a long hot summer in KC with nothing intersting to do. Just by chance, I happened to play for the auditions for the Opera in the Ozarks program a few months ago. The Artistic Director really liked my playing. When I later e-mailed him and asked if he needed a coach for the summer I got invited to be one of the senior coaches at Opera in the Ozarks. So here I am in Eureka Springs, Arkansas.

I have known about this program for a long time. We had many students from the Conservatory participate over the years. I even came down once or twice to see productions here, but that was at least fifteen years ago. Opera in the Ozarks (henceforth OIO), aka The Inspiration Point Fine Arts Colony (IPFAC), has been around for 60 years. It is very similar to the Seagle Colony. Both are training programs for young singers. I can't help but make comparisons between the two. Both OIO and Seagle are picturesquely located in areas of mountains and lakes; both are fairly small, although OIO is a bit bigger and has a resident orchestra. The resort town of Eureka Springs is located just across the Missouri border, in the Ozark Mountains. The last leg of the road here runs along a mountain ridge. From the OIO property we can see the White River Valley to the north and Beaver Lake to the south of us. It is a lovely spot. (I will post some pics when the weather clears enough for me to take some shots.)

Instead of the 25 hour drive to New York State I used to undertake to get to Schroon Lake -- a matter of three days of driving and two overnight motel stays -- I enjoyed a leisurely five hour drive to get here. Most of that was on secondary roads. I passed through small towns and traversed pleasant farm land. There is one place named Marais des Cygnes (and god only knows how the locals pronounce that!), a reminder that French trappers were the first Europeans in Missouri. Beaver fur was all the rage in Europe for a while and the Missouri River valley was one of the prime sources for it. One of the larger towns is Carthage. There was a sign for the Civil War Battle of Carthage site. For a fleeting moment I could imagine a bel canto opera: La Battaglia di Carthago. It's too bad Bellini wasn't around to think of it. Just south of Carthage is Joplin. My thoughts turned to the recent catastrophe that has befallen that unhappy place. A third of the town was obliterated and over 120 inhabitants lost their lives just a few days ago. I didn't see any of the destruction -- nor did I want to. I have witnessed the carnage a tornado can cause before. It is not a pretty sight. Further south I did pass through a smaller town that was recently damaged. Uprooted trees and tree limbs scattered the area. Tornados are ferocious events.

I stopped for lunch in the small town of Pierce City. One wonders how a small burg like this would have the appellation 'city' attached to it. Did someone have big plans for their little town when it was founded? It was nice enough, with a few 19th century buildings, a pretty church and some more recent additions. These American towns are generally haphazard, built without any real planning. What older historical core many of the rural towns had was either torn down or has fallen into disrepair. It'sad.