Three Volga German folk Songs

Below are the audio/video clips of three songs I wrote for tenor Bryan Pinkall earlier this year. Bryan's ethnic background is Volga German, a community that was tragically eradicated during WW II. He asked me to turn a few folk melodies from that region into art songs. It is the kind of project I love to tackle. The translated titles are:

1. Farewell
2. The Death of a Soldier
3. The Reveler

The songs are performed in concert by Bryan with Natalia Rivera, pianist. Not only did Bryan sing the songs beautifully, he created these awesome videos!

3. Der Zecher

2. Der Soldatentod

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1. Abschied

Last Thoughts

Previously I have sung the praises of Zürich airport. Well, that was the arrival terminal -- the departure is another story, something of a zoo actually. Or is it that there are just too many people these days for the masses of travelers to be handled efficiently? After a $6 cup of coffee at the departure gate I boarded my flight for the US. The Swiss International flight was very pleasant. Once again the exorbitant prices in Switzerland deserve mention. A Greek salad at the restaurant down the street from my friend JJ's flat went for SF 22.50 (= $30). The same thing cost me 6 Euros in Greece ($8.50). One evening we ordered in some Chinese food. Granted, it was a lot and included two small bottles of wine, but the equivalent of $125 for mediocre Chinese take-out is something for Ripley's Believe it or Not. Ouch!!!

Just arrived at JFK airport. Every time I arrive back in the US after being abroad I am a bit ashamed. Why is everything so shabby, so badly organized, so chaotic? The flag wavers keep on telling us that this is the greatest country in the world. I have some shocking news for them. It isn't. Why can't the US be like the countries of northern Europe: clean, organized and efficient, with great social services? Because we would be living in a social democracy, where taxes are high but you get what you pay for. I recently learned that the tiny country of Estonia instituted a flat tax. They started the rate at 25% and dropped it to 17%. It takes an Estonian citizen fifteen minutes to do his/her taxes on line. Doesn't that sound wonderful? It will never happen here because of the corruption of the Congress and vested interests who would fight tooth and nail against doing something as reasonable as reforming our insane tax system.
I opted to fly into JFK and catch a connecting flight out of LaGuardia. The two airports are not that far from each other. What better way to spend the obligatory several hours layover time than in the adventure of busing from one airport to another? Besides, I grew up near LaGuardia airport and I thought it might be a bit of a nostalgic trip to see something of the old neighborhood again. As usual the roads were clogged and everything looked a bit down at the heel. We passed the former World's Fair grounds. There was an iconic structure that was kept as a symbol of that historic event. It now looks ready for the wrecking ball. Right near it was the building that used to house the skating rink we visited as kids. It, too, looks near collapse. I could not live in this city again. It is too frantic and seedy. During the brief shuttle bus ride I really came to appreciate the fact that I live in Kansas City where life is so much more pleasant and relaxed.
At LaGuardia airport the security check to the gates is so haphazard. You have to take your shoes off and walk on what appears to be a rather dirty, uncarpeted floor. Yuck! What would a Swiss citizen think of this? I am embarrassed at how shabbily things are arranged here.
It was a really long day. Maybe that is why I have been so kranky. I was ecstatic to flop into my own bed again, at long last. I am deeply grateful for the opportunity I have had on this trip, to experience so many wondrous things, and grateful for having been kept safe on my travels. I dream of the soft, gentle light of the Mediterranean.........

Lausanne

I returned to Switzerland on a flight from Athens to Geneva via Paris. Charles de Gaulle airport wouldn't win any prizes for organization or design either. The morning after I arrived back at JJ's I pulled a muscle in my lower back. That put the kabosh on any plans I had for a long promenade along the lake. And it is too bad, because the weather was glorious. I barely managed to hobble down to the supermarket on the first day. On the second I made myself walk (slowly, slowly) down to Ouchy and back. Later in the evening, feeling much better, I hiked up to the high city which is crowned by the 13th century Cathedral of Notre Dame. The light was still sufficient to take a few pics. Lausanne enjoys one of the loveliest settings of any city in the world.

Cape Sounion

As tired as I was yesterday from the exertions of the day (and it's a good thing I like to walk because I have been doing a lot of it), I headed out in the evening. This time I took the metro to Omonia Square and then walked to the Plaka, the tourist area at the foot of the Acropolis. I wanted to enjoy the spectacle of the city at night, its great monuments floodlit. It was gorgeous indeed. The Acropolis was even more imposing and the magnificent Temple of Hephaestos was bathed in golden light. Athens has made a very positive impression. It is a sprawling, vibrant city with too much traffic, but it seems prosperous and well taken care of. It is, in fact, one of the cleanest cities I have experienced. One would never guess that the country is on the brink of economic collapse. And the Greeks, in my experience, are friendly, helpful, polite and, above all, honest.
With little desire to see any more museums (if I have to look at another Attic vase I'll throw myself off the Acropolis), I made an excursion outside of the city today. There are many places I could have gone: Marathon, site of one of the most important battles in Western history where the vastly outnumbered Greeks outwitted the Persians and destroyed their seemingly invincible army; but there is little to see there except a commemorative plaque. And there is Eleusis, site of the Mysteries, but it is now located in an industrial area and has an oil refinery next to it. I would have dearly liked to visit Delphi, site of the famous oracle, but it is a three and a half hour bus ride each way. So I opted to go to Cape Sounion. It is the southern most tip of Attica and less than two hours by bus. Fortunately, the bus station for traffic to the south was just a few km down Alexander Avenue, the main drag near my hotel. It was a lovely ride down the coast, the sparkling sea on one side and well-kept houses and hotels on the other. It is a nearly barren, rocky landscape; a few trees and shrubs manage to survive. The ancient Greeks built a temple to Poseidon at the Cape. Its gleaming white marble was a beacon to sea travelers. It was built at the same time as the Parthenon, in 444 BCE. Twenty years before, the Persians had invaded and destroyed the important temples, including everything on the Acropolis in Athens and the temple at Sounion. It was all rebuilt, greater than before. Not only did the Greeks eventually defeat the Persians, they took their revenge when Alexander the Great later invaded Persia, routed the High King and burned his capital city Persepolis. Take that, Persians! Alexander the Great -- now there is someone who truly deserved the title! Anyway, back to Sounion. It is a wind-swept site, perched high above the sea. After a few tour buses left I almost had the place to myself. There is nothing else to see aside from the temple so I retired to the adjoining restaurant for a refreshing repast of food and drink. Why is it that a Greek salad tastes twice as good in Greece? I had the temple in view from my table and the wide expanse of glimmering sea to my left. The gentle breeze caressed the oleanders and Norfolk pines. It was another perfect day in Greece. I shall miss the gentle tempo of life in this blessed land. Byron visited the temple and was quite taken with it. He wrote: "Place me on Sunium's marbled steep, Where nothing save the waves and I , May hear our mutual murmurs sweep..." He also carved his name into a column. It is still there but one cannot get close enough to see it. I imagine it says something like: Byron wuz here.