The elemental cycle of seasonal growth, death and then spring regeneration is nowhere more apparent than in a vegetable garden. The once flourishing Marvin Parker Memorial Garden is now fading and dying. It has been cool and frosty, but no freeze yet, so the garden is still alive, but just barely. The tomatoes are forlorn and full of small, green fruits that will likely not ripen. My romas produce small fruits that quickly drop to the ground still green. There are buds on the plants and some small peppers, but they will not grow much. Same with the eggplants, there are a couple forming, but likely will not grow to maturity. I got a few beans, but they were down low and inside the little trellis, protected from the cold. The string beans and their poles are gone.
We'll have a fall clean up day, take the brush to the compost pile, rake and pull until the plot is cleared. Then the long winter wait do it all again.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Saturday, October 17, 2009
American Heartland Theatre: "I'll be Back Before Midnight"
Yawn... "who done it" murder mysteries... one of my least favorite theatre or movie genres. I guess it is my impatience or maybe the knowledge that I am being manipulated that makes these shows a tedium for me.
But, the American Heartland Theatre's (why does Blogger spell check think "theatre" is wrong, I happen to like that way of spelling it) production of "I'll be Back Before Midnight" actually was humorous, fast paced and featured a fine cast and effective sets and lighting.
There was a bit of psychodrama and twisted, sick relationships to keep one involved, but not so much as to repulse and block the forward motion of the plot. The plot is pretty simple, as most of these things tend to be, Jan is a young woman who apparently has just been released from a long stay in a mental hospital. Her husband, Greg, who studies rocks and ancient stone tools at a college under the direction of Jan's father, has rented a farmhouse so that he and Jan can resume their lives. George, the landlord, introduces himself and despite being a simple looking bumpkin, begins to plant the seeds of murderous mayhem by telling tales of murders in the farmhouse, buried bodies and ghosts. Adding to Jan's growing dread, Greg announces his sister Laura will be coming to help out as she travels to a new life out west. Jan and Laura are not the best of friends, to put it mildly.
But, the American Heartland Theatre's (why does Blogger spell check think "theatre" is wrong, I happen to like that way of spelling it) production of "I'll be Back Before Midnight" actually was humorous, fast paced and featured a fine cast and effective sets and lighting.
There was a bit of psychodrama and twisted, sick relationships to keep one involved, but not so much as to repulse and block the forward motion of the plot. The plot is pretty simple, as most of these things tend to be, Jan is a young woman who apparently has just been released from a long stay in a mental hospital. Her husband, Greg, who studies rocks and ancient stone tools at a college under the direction of Jan's father, has rented a farmhouse so that he and Jan can resume their lives. George, the landlord, introduces himself and despite being a simple looking bumpkin, begins to plant the seeds of murderous mayhem by telling tales of murders in the farmhouse, buried bodies and ghosts. Adding to Jan's growing dread, Greg announces his sister Laura will be coming to help out as she travels to a new life out west. Jan and Laura are not the best of friends, to put it mildly.
As the play progresses, the twisted relationships and menacing personalities emerge. George has a lot of secrets to keep, there is a hint that manipulative, cold Laura and very submissive Greg were more than just brother and sister. Jan sends cassettes to her therapist fearing she is about to lose it all again.
The two short acts come to a climax early as the secrets are revealed, motives become clear and the body count rises. The excellent cast (Vanessa Severo as Jan, Darren Kennedy as Greg, James Wright as George and Jan Chapman as Laura) are brilliant as their initial personas fade and their true selves emerge. At the end no one is as they initially seemed, making "I'll be Back Before Midnight" more of a "who are they" rather than a simple "who done it".
The show continues through October 25th.
Friday, October 16, 2009
Fall Colors
The Heating and AC people were at the Palace this AM doing their fall servicing. Since a couple of the units are on the roof, we had to venture up there for a while. Taking my trusty old Kodak EasyShare with me, I snapped a couple shots of the fall colors finally beginning to peak.
On the eastern horizon, you can see the colors dotting the canopy:
Looking south on Baltimore:
Just out front:
Amazingly green for mid October in KC. Been a cool, wet summer and fall is the same.
I dread winter's arrival.
On the eastern horizon, you can see the colors dotting the canopy:
Looking south on Baltimore:
Just out front:
Amazingly green for mid October in KC. Been a cool, wet summer and fall is the same.
I dread winter's arrival.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Comedy at its Best
Last Saturday, the Kinsey Sicks, a self styled "Dragapella Beautyshop" quartet of drag performers, performed their show "Wake the Fuck up America" at my church, which is a story in and of itself.
Their performance did make me laugh and more often made me wince and shake my head. Let us just say the word "fuck" flowed freely and they had no shame.
Which contrasts to this gem
Now this is pure comedy. Sid Caesar and Nanette Fabray from the 1950's, probably from Caesar's own show. Pure improv, no teleprompters and 100% live. In this thankfully preserved clip, Caesar and Fabray mime a married couple arguing to the first movement of Beethoven's famous 5th symphony.
This sketch is absolutely a masterpiece of subtle humor and flawless acting; the timing and action are impeccable. I have watched this a hundred times and still find it fresh and hilarious.
Probably can't say the same about the Kinsey Sicks.
Their performance did make me laugh and more often made me wince and shake my head. Let us just say the word "fuck" flowed freely and they had no shame.
Which contrasts to this gem
Now this is pure comedy. Sid Caesar and Nanette Fabray from the 1950's, probably from Caesar's own show. Pure improv, no teleprompters and 100% live. In this thankfully preserved clip, Caesar and Fabray mime a married couple arguing to the first movement of Beethoven's famous 5th symphony.
This sketch is absolutely a masterpiece of subtle humor and flawless acting; the timing and action are impeccable. I have watched this a hundred times and still find it fresh and hilarious.
Probably can't say the same about the Kinsey Sicks.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Kansas City Symphony: Dvorak, Kodaly and Rachmaninoff
The fare for this weekend's Kansas City Symphony concerts, Music Director Michael Stern conducting, has a decidedly Eastern European bent; 3 masterpieces from Hungary, the Czech Republic and Russia.
Kodaly's Dances of Galánta, inspired by his youthful exposure to and his life long study of Hungarian folk traditions, is a colorful, energetic yet sophisticated romp through some delicious folk melodies and rhythms. Well thought out, inventive and always energetic, Galánta makes a perfect curtain raiser.
The Symphony's ensemble, intonation and precision were spot on and a pleasure to hear. Entrances were tight, and the piece was propelled forward with graceful enthusiasm. The many solos (including Clarinet Raymond Santos' warm, soulful contribution and horn Alberto Suarez's impeccable performance) blended into the colorful fabric of this most enjoyable work. I am sure it is a challenge to play and bring off, but Stern and the Orchestra made easy work of it (or at least made it seem easy work) with this exciting, bouncy performance.
The Dvorak B minor Cello Concerto is the crown jewel of cello concerti and one of the jewels of the whole concerto repertoire. Soaring melodies, dramatic cadenzas, a Slavic tinged, soulful slow movement and a propulsive, thoroughly satisfying finale contribute to the sheer perfection of this magnum opus.
Sadly, Cellist Alban Gerhardt turned in a rather bland, thin toned and hardly soaring performance. Others I talked to disagreed and the audience seemed to enjoy it, but to me Gerhardt's performance just seemed to be a competent run through. High register passages were especially thin, somewhat strident and suspect in intonation. The passion ran cold in this performance; some wonderful contributions from the orchestra (Raymond Santos again in the lovely clarinet figures in the slow movement) and well paced, never rushed tempi could not prod Gerhardt to a more intense, maybe even nostalgic performance. Maybe this is how Dvorak is performed these days, but I will always turn to the warm, soulful and thrilling Piatigorsky/Munch BSO performance.
Rachmaninoff's valedictory orchestral work, the marvelous "Symphonic Dances", comprised the second half of the program. The new arrangement of the orchestra (Stern re-arranged the seating of the ensemble to help alleviate the rather flat sound of the hall) contributed to the clear, bright and detailed sound. The basses provided a more solid foundation and the inner strings were clear. The usual fine winds and strings were combined with solid and never overwhelming brass (not a major bobble was noted all evening, thank you folks) and precise and colorful percussion. Going on a different night than usual necessitated a change in seat, sadly placing me further right and thus obscuring the important contributions of the piano and harp in the Rachmaninoff. Stern pulled one of the more focused and energetic performances from the orchestra, relishing in the many tempo changes, snappy rhythms and colorfully scored passages.
I admit to being a Symphonic Dances snob, I adore the piece and find it the one Rachmaninoff piece I turn to most often. Thus I waited throughout the performance for the one moment that, for this warped mind, makes or breaks the performance. I insist that the conductor follow the directions in the score and the "LV" (let vibrate) notation for final stroke of the gong. It should reverberate for a few seconds after the orchestra stops and allowed to fade, not just be a loud cymbal crash. Oh please, do it right.... and it was, thank you maestro. I went home happy, the perfect moment satisfying me, the energetic Galánta still resonating and the bland Dvorak not an issue anymore.
Kodaly's Dances of Galánta, inspired by his youthful exposure to and his life long study of Hungarian folk traditions, is a colorful, energetic yet sophisticated romp through some delicious folk melodies and rhythms. Well thought out, inventive and always energetic, Galánta makes a perfect curtain raiser.
The Symphony's ensemble, intonation and precision were spot on and a pleasure to hear. Entrances were tight, and the piece was propelled forward with graceful enthusiasm. The many solos (including Clarinet Raymond Santos' warm, soulful contribution and horn Alberto Suarez's impeccable performance) blended into the colorful fabric of this most enjoyable work. I am sure it is a challenge to play and bring off, but Stern and the Orchestra made easy work of it (or at least made it seem easy work) with this exciting, bouncy performance.
The Dvorak B minor Cello Concerto is the crown jewel of cello concerti and one of the jewels of the whole concerto repertoire. Soaring melodies, dramatic cadenzas, a Slavic tinged, soulful slow movement and a propulsive, thoroughly satisfying finale contribute to the sheer perfection of this magnum opus.
Sadly, Cellist Alban Gerhardt turned in a rather bland, thin toned and hardly soaring performance. Others I talked to disagreed and the audience seemed to enjoy it, but to me Gerhardt's performance just seemed to be a competent run through. High register passages were especially thin, somewhat strident and suspect in intonation. The passion ran cold in this performance; some wonderful contributions from the orchestra (Raymond Santos again in the lovely clarinet figures in the slow movement) and well paced, never rushed tempi could not prod Gerhardt to a more intense, maybe even nostalgic performance. Maybe this is how Dvorak is performed these days, but I will always turn to the warm, soulful and thrilling Piatigorsky/Munch BSO performance.
Rachmaninoff's valedictory orchestral work, the marvelous "Symphonic Dances", comprised the second half of the program. The new arrangement of the orchestra (Stern re-arranged the seating of the ensemble to help alleviate the rather flat sound of the hall) contributed to the clear, bright and detailed sound. The basses provided a more solid foundation and the inner strings were clear. The usual fine winds and strings were combined with solid and never overwhelming brass (not a major bobble was noted all evening, thank you folks) and precise and colorful percussion. Going on a different night than usual necessitated a change in seat, sadly placing me further right and thus obscuring the important contributions of the piano and harp in the Rachmaninoff. Stern pulled one of the more focused and energetic performances from the orchestra, relishing in the many tempo changes, snappy rhythms and colorfully scored passages.
I admit to being a Symphonic Dances snob, I adore the piece and find it the one Rachmaninoff piece I turn to most often. Thus I waited throughout the performance for the one moment that, for this warped mind, makes or breaks the performance. I insist that the conductor follow the directions in the score and the "LV" (let vibrate) notation for final stroke of the gong. It should reverberate for a few seconds after the orchestra stops and allowed to fade, not just be a loud cymbal crash. Oh please, do it right.... and it was, thank you maestro. I went home happy, the perfect moment satisfying me, the energetic Galánta still resonating and the bland Dvorak not an issue anymore.
Friday, October 09, 2009
Coupl'a Things XXIV
1) I have ESP, or if nothing else an uncanny knack of fantasizing the future. After reading an article yesterday about the impending Nobel Peace Prize announcement, I thought to myself "I bet they give it to Obama...nah... but wouldn't that set the Obama haters on fire." I imagined Rush, Faux News, and all the right wing loons just imploding. It was a momentary chuckle and fantasy as my mind went on to absorb other stimuli.
And I'll be damned it happened.
Now, tell me, why can't my fantasies of winning the mega lottery, finding a rich, handsome boyfriend that adores the ground I walk on or an end to silliness and hate come true?
Oh well, Congrats Mr. President
2) It does not take a Nobel Prize winning scientific mind to note that having a car makes you fat and lazy. The bike sits unused, the walking is less. Trips to Gayfresh are more frequent and those to the Poor People's Market have dwindled. I even took the car to Gomer's for a vodka run (well, it was raining...).
I must do better.
3) Looks like Facebook has had a meltdown this AM.
4) I am cleaning out again. Yesterday I went to my storage unit up the street. In order to have a bit of space to store junk, seasonal items and mementos, I rent a large closet at a storage facility for an increasingly large sum of money each month. Although it is close and convenient, I visit the place only a couple times a year.
Upon entering the facility, I wound my way to my assigned space only to find the lock changed. I went to the lady at the desk who appeared baffled by the whole thing too. She opened it for me and I proceeded to get what I needed. She said she would look into the thing. As I rummaged, a rustle and noise directed my attention to a suitcase, whereupon I discovered Mickey Mouse had set up housekeeping.
Arrrrrgh.
The lady at the office was now a bit more sullen when I arrived. She gleefully pointed out that in April I had paid my bill 7 days late and that necessitated them securing the unit. Questioning why they had to destroy my lock and just not put a second lock on the unit (there is a place to do so) led to the usual "it is policy" answer.
So, one customer lost. Outside of that one indiscretion, I had paid on time for 3 years.
Stuff is being tossed, given away on Freecycle and stuffed into corners. Even I, who prides himself on downsizing, still has more crap than one should have.
5) The pickled okra is looking good in its tight jar. I am resisting temptation.
And I'll be damned it happened.
Now, tell me, why can't my fantasies of winning the mega lottery, finding a rich, handsome boyfriend that adores the ground I walk on or an end to silliness and hate come true?
Oh well, Congrats Mr. President
2) It does not take a Nobel Prize winning scientific mind to note that having a car makes you fat and lazy. The bike sits unused, the walking is less. Trips to Gayfresh are more frequent and those to the Poor People's Market have dwindled. I even took the car to Gomer's for a vodka run (well, it was raining...).
I must do better.
3) Looks like Facebook has had a meltdown this AM.
4) I am cleaning out again. Yesterday I went to my storage unit up the street. In order to have a bit of space to store junk, seasonal items and mementos, I rent a large closet at a storage facility for an increasingly large sum of money each month. Although it is close and convenient, I visit the place only a couple times a year.
Upon entering the facility, I wound my way to my assigned space only to find the lock changed. I went to the lady at the desk who appeared baffled by the whole thing too. She opened it for me and I proceeded to get what I needed. She said she would look into the thing. As I rummaged, a rustle and noise directed my attention to a suitcase, whereupon I discovered Mickey Mouse had set up housekeeping.
Arrrrrgh.
The lady at the office was now a bit more sullen when I arrived. She gleefully pointed out that in April I had paid my bill 7 days late and that necessitated them securing the unit. Questioning why they had to destroy my lock and just not put a second lock on the unit (there is a place to do so) led to the usual "it is policy" answer.
So, one customer lost. Outside of that one indiscretion, I had paid on time for 3 years.
Stuff is being tossed, given away on Freecycle and stuffed into corners. Even I, who prides himself on downsizing, still has more crap than one should have.
5) The pickled okra is looking good in its tight jar. I am resisting temptation.
Wednesday, October 07, 2009
Slimy, Spicy Stalks of Goodness
Sitting in the "cool, dry place" that is the corner of my little underground kitchen for the next two weeks are three freshly packed jars of spicy, garlicy, vinegary, crunchy-slimy spears of good eats called pickled okra.
No one is ambivalent about okra; you'd either murder nuns and orphans for the stuff or you place it in the same category as boils on your ass or maybe Hitler. As for me?... "take that, Sister Mary."
I never made the stuff before, but sure have eaten a ton. So with the garden still producing a bumper crop, I decided to try it. I scoured the net and found what looked like a recipe I would like, with lots of spice, vinegar and chile.
What I did not count on was that you had to have laboratory sterile conditions to make the stuff. I know grandma never used clean sterile towels, fresh laundered and not used for other purposes, hand sanitizer, sterilized tongs, rubber gloves and new, never used jars. She probably boiled the jars, but that was about it. I used most of the above, but the towels were not fresh from the drier and the rubber gloves were no where in sight, so I hope I am making a delicacy, not botulism.
It said if you follow the instructions to the T, you can safely can foods for long periods without fear of bacteria or contamination. I don't think I can wait that long. The minimum for sufficient pickling was two weeks and I am sure I will not resist temptation to try my creation.
But damn it, the three jars are already bothering me. I can hear the one lone bacterium spreading its doom, multiplying with no help from any of its friends..taking over..
Ah, fear not. There is enough garlic, vinegar, mustard seed and chile in the concoction to kill anything. At least I hope. If this is my last post, you will know the outcome.
No one is ambivalent about okra; you'd either murder nuns and orphans for the stuff or you place it in the same category as boils on your ass or maybe Hitler. As for me?... "take that, Sister Mary."
I never made the stuff before, but sure have eaten a ton. So with the garden still producing a bumper crop, I decided to try it. I scoured the net and found what looked like a recipe I would like, with lots of spice, vinegar and chile.
What I did not count on was that you had to have laboratory sterile conditions to make the stuff. I know grandma never used clean sterile towels, fresh laundered and not used for other purposes, hand sanitizer, sterilized tongs, rubber gloves and new, never used jars. She probably boiled the jars, but that was about it. I used most of the above, but the towels were not fresh from the drier and the rubber gloves were no where in sight, so I hope I am making a delicacy, not botulism.
It said if you follow the instructions to the T, you can safely can foods for long periods without fear of bacteria or contamination. I don't think I can wait that long. The minimum for sufficient pickling was two weeks and I am sure I will not resist temptation to try my creation.
But damn it, the three jars are already bothering me. I can hear the one lone bacterium spreading its doom, multiplying with no help from any of its friends..taking over..
Ah, fear not. There is enough garlic, vinegar, mustard seed and chile in the concoction to kill anything. At least I hope. If this is my last post, you will know the outcome.
Tuesday, October 06, 2009
Dunbar: Heading Home
Reluctantly, I took my leave of Howard and Louise around 4;30 or so; if I had more energy I would have kept it up all night. But I had been up since 4AM, still needed to drive the 2 hours to Decatur, and it had began to rain. I left with a couple of souvenirs; a picture of dad's family taken in 1942 and Howard's autobiography of his WWII adventures and career as a biology teacher. Along with my Grandfather's Illinois Central Railroad watch that I got many years ago, I have a few things to hold on to from a vanishing generation.
Getting behind the wheel of a car again felt strange a bit, yet at the same time comforting. Mobility and freedom were mine again. Although I know now I have to play the game and have Dunbar licensed in Missouri to please the authorities bent on wringing every penny out of us they can.
Dunbar took me south on the somewhat familiar roads, past Peoria, down to Lincoln and then on to Decatur on the more familiar Route 121. It had become even more chilly from the steady fall rain and I had not brought a jacket it still being hung in my storage unit. Thus I infiltrated the blinding bright world of the Lincoln Wal-Mart, bustling at the dinner hour, to buy a cheap "Made in Indonesia" jacket for all of $10. Sadly, I think it is the only place on can buy a jacket in Lincoln, IL at that time of day.
My sister did not have to work Friday night, so immediately upon my arrival, I ordained a trip to "Los Matadores" in the once state of the art Fairview Plaza Shopping Center. What is now "Los Matadores" used to be part of the big Goldblatt's Department Store, closed many ages ago. Always good food, lots of it, good margaritas and sort of a tradition for me.
I stayed little in Decatur, needing to get back to KC, so I left Saturday AM after doing a few errands with my sister. The trip here was totally uneventful and Dunbar proved reliable and comfortable. HM Puggles was thrilled to see me home and enjoyed her first ride in her new limo on Sunday. She thinks it is fabulous, actually. She was out with me when I unloaded a bag of Purina from the trunk, purchased in Decatur when I found it on sale. She is convinced that her limo comes with food as standard equipment.
As I type this, I really wonder why I have taken the time. If you are reading, admit it, you really do not find this totally mundane story fascinating at all. I could be describing a trip to the gas station for all that matters. But it serves a purpose for me. Maybe someday, if all this gets preserved, a member of a future generation of the Clark family will find it and as it was with my Uncle's stories and a gold pocket watch, a bond of understanding will be forged between estranged generations.
Thus I go on.
Getting behind the wheel of a car again felt strange a bit, yet at the same time comforting. Mobility and freedom were mine again. Although I know now I have to play the game and have Dunbar licensed in Missouri to please the authorities bent on wringing every penny out of us they can.
Dunbar took me south on the somewhat familiar roads, past Peoria, down to Lincoln and then on to Decatur on the more familiar Route 121. It had become even more chilly from the steady fall rain and I had not brought a jacket it still being hung in my storage unit. Thus I infiltrated the blinding bright world of the Lincoln Wal-Mart, bustling at the dinner hour, to buy a cheap "Made in Indonesia" jacket for all of $10. Sadly, I think it is the only place on can buy a jacket in Lincoln, IL at that time of day.
My sister did not have to work Friday night, so immediately upon my arrival, I ordained a trip to "Los Matadores" in the once state of the art Fairview Plaza Shopping Center. What is now "Los Matadores" used to be part of the big Goldblatt's Department Store, closed many ages ago. Always good food, lots of it, good margaritas and sort of a tradition for me.
I stayed little in Decatur, needing to get back to KC, so I left Saturday AM after doing a few errands with my sister. The trip here was totally uneventful and Dunbar proved reliable and comfortable. HM Puggles was thrilled to see me home and enjoyed her first ride in her new limo on Sunday. She thinks it is fabulous, actually. She was out with me when I unloaded a bag of Purina from the trunk, purchased in Decatur when I found it on sale. She is convinced that her limo comes with food as standard equipment.
As I type this, I really wonder why I have taken the time. If you are reading, admit it, you really do not find this totally mundane story fascinating at all. I could be describing a trip to the gas station for all that matters. But it serves a purpose for me. Maybe someday, if all this gets preserved, a member of a future generation of the Clark family will find it and as it was with my Uncle's stories and a gold pocket watch, a bond of understanding will be forged between estranged generations.
Thus I go on.
Monday, October 05, 2009
Fetching Dunbar
Amtrak's "Southwest Chief" train is a bit of a different animal than the local service train I usually take from KC to St Louis or Springfield. Two powerful diesel locomotives power the train, this time consisting of a baggage car, a dining car and 5-6 big, double deck passenger cars. A couple of the cars were the sleeper cars, in reality rolling mini hotels. Since I was a short hop (the Chief starts in LA and goes to Chicago) I got one of the recliner regular seats. Long and comfy, fully reclinable and on the upper deck. For $52 and a quick trip, it could not be beat.
The Chief is the successor to the fabled Santa Fe Super Chief which ruled the LA to Chicago route during the peak of passenger rail service. Leaving KC in the AM, the Chief rolls through north central MO, stops in the hamlet of La Plata, MO serving Kirksville to the north, the river town of Fort Madison, IA and then on to Galesburg and Chicago. As the last time, Amtrak got me there on time and in comfort.
I immediately recognized my Uncle Howard, despite not having seen him in a while. Without going into a long psychological discussion, my dad's family is pretty much a mystery to me. We didn't do much with them and with the exception of my late Aunt Pauline, they were scattered here and there. Howard is the intellectual among the siblings and the most traveled and worldly. At 90, he still golfs, bicycles and is active in church and volunteerism. Tall, lots of white hair (where did mine go??, but his sons look much like me in the hair department) and sure footed and quick witted, he certainly looked less than his 90 years. Along with him was his long time friend Louise, his constant friend and companion, filling the void after his beloved wife Helen died 4 years ago.
We walked to the parking lot, like all of Illinois in the summer, undergoing construction, and there was Dunbar. I had little info on the car so I did not know what to expect. But there was a dark gray Century, resplendent in the 2 year old paint job (a story for later) despite the chilly, threatening weather. Instantaneous relief was felt when I saw the "Century Limited" badge on the back quarter panel. This meant Dunbar was of the rarer upper class, not just a lowly and ubiquitous "Custom". True to form, Dunbar is graced with power everything, the V6 instead of the underpowered I4 and a more cushy interior. I mean really, if you are replacing a Lincoln with a Buick, it should at least have some comfort!
Howard offered me to drive so off we went the few miles to his home in Knoxville. Dunbar seemed to drive fair for a 19 year old piece of machinery, but the brakes and front alignment are a bit suspect.
Lunch was in order, so we stopped at the newest incarnation of the Family Restaurant in Downtown Knoxville.
Over a fine walleye fish sandwich and two orders of beef tips and noodles (no, I did not have the beef tips) three people of two generations were to connect and re-connect. Stories told, catching up, realizing we had lots in common and a shared outlook on life.
I know better where I came from.
The Chief is the successor to the fabled Santa Fe Super Chief which ruled the LA to Chicago route during the peak of passenger rail service. Leaving KC in the AM, the Chief rolls through north central MO, stops in the hamlet of La Plata, MO serving Kirksville to the north, the river town of Fort Madison, IA and then on to Galesburg and Chicago. As the last time, Amtrak got me there on time and in comfort.
I immediately recognized my Uncle Howard, despite not having seen him in a while. Without going into a long psychological discussion, my dad's family is pretty much a mystery to me. We didn't do much with them and with the exception of my late Aunt Pauline, they were scattered here and there. Howard is the intellectual among the siblings and the most traveled and worldly. At 90, he still golfs, bicycles and is active in church and volunteerism. Tall, lots of white hair (where did mine go??, but his sons look much like me in the hair department) and sure footed and quick witted, he certainly looked less than his 90 years. Along with him was his long time friend Louise, his constant friend and companion, filling the void after his beloved wife Helen died 4 years ago.
We walked to the parking lot, like all of Illinois in the summer, undergoing construction, and there was Dunbar. I had little info on the car so I did not know what to expect. But there was a dark gray Century, resplendent in the 2 year old paint job (a story for later) despite the chilly, threatening weather. Instantaneous relief was felt when I saw the "Century Limited" badge on the back quarter panel. This meant Dunbar was of the rarer upper class, not just a lowly and ubiquitous "Custom". True to form, Dunbar is graced with power everything, the V6 instead of the underpowered I4 and a more cushy interior. I mean really, if you are replacing a Lincoln with a Buick, it should at least have some comfort!
Howard offered me to drive so off we went the few miles to his home in Knoxville. Dunbar seemed to drive fair for a 19 year old piece of machinery, but the brakes and front alignment are a bit suspect.
Lunch was in order, so we stopped at the newest incarnation of the Family Restaurant in Downtown Knoxville.
Over a fine walleye fish sandwich and two orders of beef tips and noodles (no, I did not have the beef tips) three people of two generations were to connect and re-connect. Stories told, catching up, realizing we had lots in common and a shared outlook on life.
I know better where I came from.
Thursday, October 01, 2009
Dunbar: The Advent
The experiment is about over, or so I hope. Tomorrow I am off again on the choo choo train, this time the Amtrak "Southwest Chief" from Kansas City to lovely Galesburg, Il. And unlike the last trip, I have only a one way ticket.
No I am not moving to the home of Carl Sandburg. You see, the experiment of living without an automobile is about to end. It lasted 4 days short of two months. Our society is so damn dependent on the auto, I guess we just need to accept that. I tried, and enjoyed it, but when mass transit, at least in KC, MO is so time consuming and we are so spread out, a set of wheels is almost a necessity.
Last night for example. Greg was going to go to choir practice and take me, but he called about 4PM and said he had a fever, sniffles and such and thought it best to stay in. No problem, Bruce was going too as he is playing on Sunday. At 7:10pm, just as I was expecting him to show up, he called to say he had a sudden nosebleed. Thankfully, I could steal a car from a neighbor for a few minutes and got there, albeit late. A few weeks ago, I had to arrange getting Puggles to the vet for her allergy shots around the availability of a car. It makes one weak.
So I am depriving a 90 year old man of his car.
Not exactly, but sort of. You see, my Uncle Howard took my Aunt Pauline's (his sister) car a few years ago when she gave up driving. He has another one, but this one was his country club car; he took it to the golf course and kept his clubs in it. When Pauline died, the car became my sister's and Howard told her she could have it. I glommed on it to it, PDQ.
It runs.
It is free.
It is free, did I mention it is costing me nothing?
A 1990 Buick Century. Not the most exciting thing on 4 wheels, but I care not. (Unless, of course it has the 4 cyl and has no power options, then it is going to be sold if I can get some $$ out of it). As it now resides in Galesburg, Il, I am heading there to pick it up tomorrow. By this time on Oct 2nd, I should be wheeled again.
But I have learned a valuable lesson. You can get around walking and biking. It is good for you too, I have lost weight, seen new things, learned to use the reusable grocery bags and come to appreciate the joy of the "poor people's market". Thus, while the weather holds, I will do some walking, biking and bussing locally. Quick trips to the market will be walking to the Thriftway. The bike knows the way to the garden and to GayFresh. My vodka is a short two blocks away at Gomer's. Hamburger night is doable on foot.
But the joy (and pain in the ass) of owning a set of wheels will be relief when the going gets tough.
Oh, yeah.. the deal behind "Dunbar"... well, every car needs a name, and sight unseen, this one is dubbed "Dunbar" in honor of David Dunbar Buick, who founded the eponymous auto manufacturer (and perfected the white porcelain bathtub common to this day) in 1903 and has so far survived the holocaust of the GM meltdown.
Watch this space to welcome Dunbar to KC!
No I am not moving to the home of Carl Sandburg. You see, the experiment of living without an automobile is about to end. It lasted 4 days short of two months. Our society is so damn dependent on the auto, I guess we just need to accept that. I tried, and enjoyed it, but when mass transit, at least in KC, MO is so time consuming and we are so spread out, a set of wheels is almost a necessity.
Last night for example. Greg was going to go to choir practice and take me, but he called about 4PM and said he had a fever, sniffles and such and thought it best to stay in. No problem, Bruce was going too as he is playing on Sunday. At 7:10pm, just as I was expecting him to show up, he called to say he had a sudden nosebleed. Thankfully, I could steal a car from a neighbor for a few minutes and got there, albeit late. A few weeks ago, I had to arrange getting Puggles to the vet for her allergy shots around the availability of a car. It makes one weak.
So I am depriving a 90 year old man of his car.
Not exactly, but sort of. You see, my Uncle Howard took my Aunt Pauline's (his sister) car a few years ago when she gave up driving. He has another one, but this one was his country club car; he took it to the golf course and kept his clubs in it. When Pauline died, the car became my sister's and Howard told her she could have it. I glommed on it to it, PDQ.
It runs.
It is free.
It is free, did I mention it is costing me nothing?
A 1990 Buick Century. Not the most exciting thing on 4 wheels, but I care not. (Unless, of course it has the 4 cyl and has no power options, then it is going to be sold if I can get some $$ out of it). As it now resides in Galesburg, Il, I am heading there to pick it up tomorrow. By this time on Oct 2nd, I should be wheeled again.
But I have learned a valuable lesson. You can get around walking and biking. It is good for you too, I have lost weight, seen new things, learned to use the reusable grocery bags and come to appreciate the joy of the "poor people's market". Thus, while the weather holds, I will do some walking, biking and bussing locally. Quick trips to the market will be walking to the Thriftway. The bike knows the way to the garden and to GayFresh. My vodka is a short two blocks away at Gomer's. Hamburger night is doable on foot.
But the joy (and pain in the ass) of owning a set of wheels will be relief when the going gets tough.
Oh, yeah.. the deal behind "Dunbar"... well, every car needs a name, and sight unseen, this one is dubbed "Dunbar" in honor of David Dunbar Buick, who founded the eponymous auto manufacturer (and perfected the white porcelain bathtub common to this day) in 1903 and has so far survived the holocaust of the GM meltdown.
Watch this space to welcome Dunbar to KC!
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Hump Day Funnies
I was walking down the road today and saw my Afghan neighbor, Abdul, standing on his fifth floor apartment balcony shaking a carpet. I shouted up to him, "What's up Abdul, won't it start?"
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Red Carpet Pet Party
Check out this video from my friend and fellow dog lover Kellee Katillac. Go to Katillacshack.com and comment on the video there. Each positive comment will earn $1 for the Northland Pet Pantry and help abandoned dogs and cats who are the unseen victims of the economic turmoil.
A further reason to watch is for the cameo of Her Majesty at about 8:05 into the video!
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Kansas City Symphony: Bronfman Plays Brahms
Passion, rapture and love; three emotions that have inspired musicians to create some of their greatest works. Such was the overall theme of the first series of concerts by the Kansas City Symphony in the 2009-2010 season. Haydn's Symphony # 49 in f "La Passione" began the evening followed by Christopher Rouse's "Rapture" from 2000. To conclude the opening concert Music Director and Conductor for the evening Michael Stern, chose the autumnal Piano Concerto # 2 by Brahms, with Yefrim Bronfman as solo.
Haydn's "La Passione" is a bit of a curiosity among his symphonies. It is in a minor key whereas most of them are major key works and it begins with a slow sonata form movement instead of a sonata allegro. Since the work was allegedly inspired by the passion of Christ and Good Friday, the sonata da chiesa form of slow fast slow fast lends itself to the alternately reflective and dramatic mood of the work.
Stern and the KC Symphony have developed a reputation as excellent interpreters of Haydn; clear, crisp, bouncy, energetic and always elegant. This La Passione was certainly all of that, even keeping the long opening Adagio. The following Allegro was dramatic enough, full of the period Sturm und Drang. A sunny and bouncy, a bright spot in this sacred passion, but alas the trio section was spoiled by horn bobbles...sigh. The final allegro brought the work to a dramatic conclusion. Haydn was to abandon the sinfonia da chiesa form after this, perfecting the symphonic form that, with some minor alterations, lasts until today.
Haydn's more subtle and formal "Passion" was followed by a more overt and visceral incarnation, the "Rapture" by Christopher Rouse. Not "The Rapture" as celebrated by evangelical Christians, "Rapture" is a musical realization of "spiritual bliss, not necessarily religious in nature" or as his notes explained "a progression to an ever more blinding ecstasy". The work is unabashedly tonal for the most part and, as in Ravel's Bolero, slowly increases in tempo and volume to the rousing conclusion. The performance was dramatic, certainly noisy yet effective; marred only by some uncertain brass intonation and entrances in the slower opening section. There were the usual fine wind contributions from the flutes and clarinet sections and the symphony's able, but never overwhelming percussion got quite a work out.
It was interesting to compare the Bronfman Brahms 2nd with that of Marc-André Hamelin's a couple seasons ago. Bronfman turned in a more leisurely, introspective, but hardly less technically brilliant performance. This time, Principal Horn Alberto Suarez opened the work with a tonally beautiful and spot on solo, the important horn part was almost perfect through out the movement. Bronfman was certainly in top form and propelled the work forward, maybe a little less forcefully than Hamelin, but never let it get as weighty or turgid as a big German dinner.
Special note is given to Principal cellist Mark Gibbs for his gorgeous opening solo in the adagio for which he received an appropriate ovation and sincere greetings from Mr. Bronfman at the conclusion of the work. Although Bronfman's and Stern's finale was a bit more leisurely and lighter than Hamelin's more muscular and staccato reading, it carried sufficient weight to conclude this mighty concerto and not serve as just another scherzo as can happen with some performances.
The orchestra sounded richer and fuller than ever before, thanks to some tinkering with the seating. Stern has separated the 1st and 2nd violins left and right, with the basses and celli on the left (as one looks from the audience) rear and the violas in the center. This has given the orchestra the aforementioned fuller and deeper sound with more prominent (but not overwhelming) bass. The acoustics in the lovely Lyric Theatre (to be replaced in 2011 by the spectacular new Kauffman Center) are challenging to be kind. This new arrangement alleviated some of the muddiness of the strings and the feeling that the section was undermanned.
Next up, Kodaly's charming Galánta Dances, Rachamaninov's Symphonic Dances and the Dvorak Cello Concerto.
Haydn's "La Passione" is a bit of a curiosity among his symphonies. It is in a minor key whereas most of them are major key works and it begins with a slow sonata form movement instead of a sonata allegro. Since the work was allegedly inspired by the passion of Christ and Good Friday, the sonata da chiesa form of slow fast slow fast lends itself to the alternately reflective and dramatic mood of the work.
Stern and the KC Symphony have developed a reputation as excellent interpreters of Haydn; clear, crisp, bouncy, energetic and always elegant. This La Passione was certainly all of that, even keeping the long opening Adagio. The following Allegro was dramatic enough, full of the period Sturm und Drang. A sunny and bouncy, a bright spot in this sacred passion, but alas the trio section was spoiled by horn bobbles...sigh. The final allegro brought the work to a dramatic conclusion. Haydn was to abandon the sinfonia da chiesa form after this, perfecting the symphonic form that, with some minor alterations, lasts until today.
Haydn's more subtle and formal "Passion" was followed by a more overt and visceral incarnation, the "Rapture" by Christopher Rouse. Not "The Rapture" as celebrated by evangelical Christians, "Rapture" is a musical realization of "spiritual bliss, not necessarily religious in nature" or as his notes explained "a progression to an ever more blinding ecstasy". The work is unabashedly tonal for the most part and, as in Ravel's Bolero, slowly increases in tempo and volume to the rousing conclusion. The performance was dramatic, certainly noisy yet effective; marred only by some uncertain brass intonation and entrances in the slower opening section. There were the usual fine wind contributions from the flutes and clarinet sections and the symphony's able, but never overwhelming percussion got quite a work out.
It was interesting to compare the Bronfman Brahms 2nd with that of Marc-André Hamelin's a couple seasons ago. Bronfman turned in a more leisurely, introspective, but hardly less technically brilliant performance. This time, Principal Horn Alberto Suarez opened the work with a tonally beautiful and spot on solo, the important horn part was almost perfect through out the movement. Bronfman was certainly in top form and propelled the work forward, maybe a little less forcefully than Hamelin, but never let it get as weighty or turgid as a big German dinner.
Special note is given to Principal cellist Mark Gibbs for his gorgeous opening solo in the adagio for which he received an appropriate ovation and sincere greetings from Mr. Bronfman at the conclusion of the work. Although Bronfman's and Stern's finale was a bit more leisurely and lighter than Hamelin's more muscular and staccato reading, it carried sufficient weight to conclude this mighty concerto and not serve as just another scherzo as can happen with some performances.
The orchestra sounded richer and fuller than ever before, thanks to some tinkering with the seating. Stern has separated the 1st and 2nd violins left and right, with the basses and celli on the left (as one looks from the audience) rear and the violas in the center. This has given the orchestra the aforementioned fuller and deeper sound with more prominent (but not overwhelming) bass. The acoustics in the lovely Lyric Theatre (to be replaced in 2011 by the spectacular new Kauffman Center) are challenging to be kind. This new arrangement alleviated some of the muddiness of the strings and the feeling that the section was undermanned.
Next up, Kodaly's charming Galánta Dances, Rachamaninov's Symphonic Dances and the Dvorak Cello Concerto.
Friday, September 25, 2009
RIP Alicia de Larrocha
Alicia de Larrocha, a diminutive Spanish pianist esteemed for her elegant Mozart performances and regarded as an incomparable interpreter of Albéniz, Granados, Mompou and other Spanish composers, died this evening in a hospital in Barcelona; she had been in declining health since breaking her hip two years ago. She was 86.
Ms. de Larrocha specialized, yea owned, music that demanded focus, compactness and a subtle coloristic touch. Her Mozart, Bach and Scarlatti were so carefully detailed and light in texture that even as public taste shifted toward more period-instrument style, her performances remained popular and even definitive. She was closely associated with the Mostly Mozart Festival at Lincoln Center, where she first performed in 1971. Her appearances remained among the festival’s hottest tickets until her final performance there in 2003.
Ms. de Larrocha’s most enduring contribution, however, was her championship of Spanish composers. She made enduring recordings of Albéniz’s “Iberia” and Granados’ “Goyescas,” and helped ease those works into the standard piano repertoire. She almost single-handedly built a following for Federico Mompou, a Catalan composer of quiet, poetic works.
Although she was often regarded as partial to Granados — her mother and an aunt were among his piano students, but he died before Ms. de Larrocha was born — she refused to cite a favorite.
Thankfully, her recordings survive as monuments to the art of the piano.
On a personal note, I did a bad thing as a college student, but 33 years later I still remember every bit of it. It involved Ms. de Larrocha.
I volunteered as a tour guide at the University of Illinois Krannert Center while attending school there. After conducting a tour I noted on the board that the Great Hall was reserved from 3-4 pm for Ms de Larrocha who was performing that evening. Knowing all the entrances and exits, I snuck quietly into the hall and sure enough, she came out to test the piano and warm up. Her assistant or whoever left, not noticing me up in the darkened balcony. Ms de Larrocha warmed up and then played Alborada del Gracioso, plus "Triana" and the "Rondeña" from Albeniz's "Iberia" just for me. I chickened out and left after that. Totally stupid on my part, but since then I have been an ardent fan of this diminutive lady with a big smile and passion for her art. I attended the concert that night which consisted of the Ravel, Mozart "Turkish" Sonata and selections from Iberia. It was amazing.
Where is my copy of Iberia, I must listen to it!
RIP great lady. Thank you.
Ms. de Larrocha specialized, yea owned, music that demanded focus, compactness and a subtle coloristic touch. Her Mozart, Bach and Scarlatti were so carefully detailed and light in texture that even as public taste shifted toward more period-instrument style, her performances remained popular and even definitive. She was closely associated with the Mostly Mozart Festival at Lincoln Center, where she first performed in 1971. Her appearances remained among the festival’s hottest tickets until her final performance there in 2003.
Ms. de Larrocha’s most enduring contribution, however, was her championship of Spanish composers. She made enduring recordings of Albéniz’s “Iberia” and Granados’ “Goyescas,” and helped ease those works into the standard piano repertoire. She almost single-handedly built a following for Federico Mompou, a Catalan composer of quiet, poetic works.
Although she was often regarded as partial to Granados — her mother and an aunt were among his piano students, but he died before Ms. de Larrocha was born — she refused to cite a favorite.
Thankfully, her recordings survive as monuments to the art of the piano.
On a personal note, I did a bad thing as a college student, but 33 years later I still remember every bit of it. It involved Ms. de Larrocha.
I volunteered as a tour guide at the University of Illinois Krannert Center while attending school there. After conducting a tour I noted on the board that the Great Hall was reserved from 3-4 pm for Ms de Larrocha who was performing that evening. Knowing all the entrances and exits, I snuck quietly into the hall and sure enough, she came out to test the piano and warm up. Her assistant or whoever left, not noticing me up in the darkened balcony. Ms de Larrocha warmed up and then played Alborada del Gracioso, plus "Triana" and the "Rondeña" from Albeniz's "Iberia" just for me. I chickened out and left after that. Totally stupid on my part, but since then I have been an ardent fan of this diminutive lady with a big smile and passion for her art. I attended the concert that night which consisted of the Ravel, Mozart "Turkish" Sonata and selections from Iberia. It was amazing.
Where is my copy of Iberia, I must listen to it!
RIP great lady. Thank you.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Coupl'a Things XXIII
1) I am pleased to announce that the Queen Mary is out of prison and is now owned by a nice fellow in Independence. She was sprung yesterday and through a fortuitous situation, she is now in a garage waiting to be licensed and a new battery.
It was hard to let her go, but it was best for me, as I did not have the $ to pay off the horrible city of KCMO. How she got out is a story that I will not tell in public. Suffice to say it skirted legality or violation of this idiot city rules and I want no further trouble from them.
Go forth QM, go on to your new home, actually in the state of your birth... and ride in style.
2) Bigger news is that the QM will be replaced by a 1990 Buick Century from my late aunt Pauline. My Uncle Howard (her brother) has it and does not need it. I am going to Galesburg, Il on 10/2 to pick it up. Only 61,000 miles and a new paint job. Should be a good car. I am still going to bike and walk locally as it is good for me. But will be nice to have wheels to go longer distances.
3) Scotch has reappeared in my liquor cabinet. I am enjoying an early but deserved glass of Bowmore, a fine, mid range Islay scotch. Smooth but with the peat smoke and tang-of-the-sea flavor that makes Islay scotch so damn fine.
4) The garden is still producing, but I will not take pictures as it looks like hell. I got some tomatoes, my beans are going fine, the peppers are plentiful and I got another eggplant.
5) HM's Palace News Report: She is most highly NOT AMUSED. She got a bath (second in 5 days due to her skin allergy) and the evil vacuum cleaner paid a visit. If you see a fluffy fawn pug walking along with a bag containing her food bowl and food bag, please return her.
It was hard to let her go, but it was best for me, as I did not have the $ to pay off the horrible city of KCMO. How she got out is a story that I will not tell in public. Suffice to say it skirted legality or violation of this idiot city rules and I want no further trouble from them.
Go forth QM, go on to your new home, actually in the state of your birth... and ride in style.
2) Bigger news is that the QM will be replaced by a 1990 Buick Century from my late aunt Pauline. My Uncle Howard (her brother) has it and does not need it. I am going to Galesburg, Il on 10/2 to pick it up. Only 61,000 miles and a new paint job. Should be a good car. I am still going to bike and walk locally as it is good for me. But will be nice to have wheels to go longer distances.
3) Scotch has reappeared in my liquor cabinet. I am enjoying an early but deserved glass of Bowmore, a fine, mid range Islay scotch. Smooth but with the peat smoke and tang-of-the-sea flavor that makes Islay scotch so damn fine.
4) The garden is still producing, but I will not take pictures as it looks like hell. I got some tomatoes, my beans are going fine, the peppers are plentiful and I got another eggplant.
5) HM's Palace News Report: She is most highly NOT AMUSED. She got a bath (second in 5 days due to her skin allergy) and the evil vacuum cleaner paid a visit. If you see a fluffy fawn pug walking along with a bag containing her food bowl and food bag, please return her.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Morrocan Spiced Olives
For a Moroccan themed party I am preparing this dish I found on RecipeSource.com . It is quite good, really easy and different.
1 tsp Cumin seeds
1 tsp Fennel seeds
1 tsp Coriander seeds
1/4 tsp Cardamom, ground
1 pinch Crushed red pepper flakes
1 pinch Nutmeg, ground
1 pinch Cinnamon
1 tb Olive oil
1 1/2 c Green olives, brought to room temperature
1 tb Lemon juice
1 tb Orange juice
3 Garlic cloves, minced
Heat first 8 ingredients in a small skillet over medium heat until
fragrant, about 2 minutes. Remove from heat & add olives & toss to
coat.
Stir in remaining ingredients. Refrigerate in an airtight container
for at least 4 hours or up to 3 weeks. The longer they marinate, the
better they taste. Serve at room temperature or slightly chilled.
1 tsp Cumin seeds
1 tsp Fennel seeds
1 tsp Coriander seeds
1/4 tsp Cardamom, ground
1 pinch Crushed red pepper flakes
1 pinch Nutmeg, ground
1 pinch Cinnamon
1 tb Olive oil
1 1/2 c Green olives, brought to room temperature
1 tb Lemon juice
1 tb Orange juice
3 Garlic cloves, minced
Heat first 8 ingredients in a small skillet over medium heat until
fragrant, about 2 minutes. Remove from heat & add olives & toss to
coat.
Stir in remaining ingredients. Refrigerate in an airtight container
for at least 4 hours or up to 3 weeks. The longer they marinate, the
better they taste. Serve at room temperature or slightly chilled.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Kansas City Lyric Opera: Tosca
If there is a benefit to the recent economic downturn, it is that some arts institutions have been forced to re-examine their operations and mission. For many, it has resulted in a back to basics movement; for some, that is a welcome development.
For the 2009-2010 season, the Kansas City Lyric Opera has shuffled its performance schedule and programmed operas that are guaranteed to be crowd pleasers. While its been great to see a world premiere (John Brown from a couple seasons ago), a neglected opera or two (Thomas' Hamlet for example), seeing great productions of the core repertoire can have its benefits as well. And of course the crowds fill the coffers, preparing the way for better times and more adventurous performances.
Thus the opening production of the season is Puccini's masterpiece, "Tosca". If there is a work that epitomizes opera it is Tosca. Melodrama galore, young artists, the pageantry of the church, evil, a love triangle, double crossing, everybody dying at the end...what more could one ask of an opera. Of course gorgeous melody and the beloved aria "Vissi d’arte, vissi d’amore" definitely helps things along.
The performance Wednesday was uniformly quite excellent. The voices, especially Lisa Daltirus as Tosca and Greer Grimsley as Scarpia, one of the most despicable characters in all opera, were quite good. The only exception, sadly, was Rafael Davila as Tosca's tragic lover Mario Cavaradossi (what he sees in Tosca, I'll never know), whose too light tenor voice was frequently overwhelmed. His acting was a bit leaden overall as well. Daltirus (who is a Tosca veteran and who was featured in the Chicago Lyric "Porgy and Bess") was ever so flexible in her role, going from jealous, almost petty lover, to tragic heroine who brings down the evil Scarpia. Grimsley, who portrayed Wotan in the Seattle "Ring", was superb; oily, shifty, pure evil, never a caricature. The smaller parts were well done, especially noting Kevin Glavin who came close to stealing his scenes as the harried Sacristan.
The sets and lighting were effective, straight forward and assisted in telling the story. Music Director Ward Holmquist was in fine fashion with the orchestra, both in the subtle underpinning of the voices and in the magnificent processional that ends act one.
So what if this production broke no new ground, didn't set the opera in a factory in Communist Romania, or didn't have Tosca dressed as a 70's rock star? It was opera at its best, riveting, colorful, musically powerful without all the gee-gaws that detract from the original masterpiece.
Kind of refreshing actually.
For the 2009-2010 season, the Kansas City Lyric Opera has shuffled its performance schedule and programmed operas that are guaranteed to be crowd pleasers. While its been great to see a world premiere (John Brown from a couple seasons ago), a neglected opera or two (Thomas' Hamlet for example), seeing great productions of the core repertoire can have its benefits as well. And of course the crowds fill the coffers, preparing the way for better times and more adventurous performances.
Thus the opening production of the season is Puccini's masterpiece, "Tosca". If there is a work that epitomizes opera it is Tosca. Melodrama galore, young artists, the pageantry of the church, evil, a love triangle, double crossing, everybody dying at the end...what more could one ask of an opera. Of course gorgeous melody and the beloved aria "Vissi d’arte, vissi d’amore" definitely helps things along.
The performance Wednesday was uniformly quite excellent. The voices, especially Lisa Daltirus as Tosca and Greer Grimsley as Scarpia, one of the most despicable characters in all opera, were quite good. The only exception, sadly, was Rafael Davila as Tosca's tragic lover Mario Cavaradossi (what he sees in Tosca, I'll never know), whose too light tenor voice was frequently overwhelmed. His acting was a bit leaden overall as well. Daltirus (who is a Tosca veteran and who was featured in the Chicago Lyric "Porgy and Bess") was ever so flexible in her role, going from jealous, almost petty lover, to tragic heroine who brings down the evil Scarpia. Grimsley, who portrayed Wotan in the Seattle "Ring", was superb; oily, shifty, pure evil, never a caricature. The smaller parts were well done, especially noting Kevin Glavin who came close to stealing his scenes as the harried Sacristan.
The sets and lighting were effective, straight forward and assisted in telling the story. Music Director Ward Holmquist was in fine fashion with the orchestra, both in the subtle underpinning of the voices and in the magnificent processional that ends act one.
So what if this production broke no new ground, didn't set the opera in a factory in Communist Romania, or didn't have Tosca dressed as a 70's rock star? It was opera at its best, riveting, colorful, musically powerful without all the gee-gaws that detract from the original masterpiece.
Kind of refreshing actually.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
What I am Listening to Today: Part I
Music from 2 divergent threads, one from an artist long passed from the scene and one from the live, local and current world.
On the CD player now is a wonderful recording, one of the few available, sadly, of Liszt and Alkan piano works by the renowned but sadly almost forgotten American pianist Raymond Lewenthal. Lewenthal, born in Texas of Russian parents, burst on the scene in the late 40s, winning major competitions and having the enviable honor of making his orchestral debut as a soloist with Mitropoulos conducting the Philadelphia Orchestra in the Prokofiev 3rd Piano Concerto. Lewenthal was on to the road to a remarkable career when he was brutally attacked in New York's Central Park in 1953. The attack left his arms broken and he retreated to Europe to recover phyiscally and mentally.
Lewenthal returned to prominence in 1963 when in a radio broadcast he played and discussed the remarkable works of Charles Valentin Alkan (1813-1889) a great, but reclusive French pianist, composer and teacher. Lewenthal devoted the rest of his career and few recordings to Alkan, Liszt and some of the lesser known Romantic composers such as Moscheles, Scharwenka, Rubinstein, Field and Dussek. Lewenthal died in New York in 1988 while working on a definitive biography and study of his hero Alkan.
The recording I am listening to, Elan 82276 (available from CD Universe, HB Direct, Amazon or Archiv Records to name a few) is a re-release of the acclaimed 1965-1966 RCA recording, which some say in its rare CD iteration is superior in sound to this one, but try to get a copy for under $45.
The cost of this or the RCA CD is worth the price for the stunning Alkan Symphonie For Piano, movements from his !2 Etudes for the Minor Keys OP 39. Far from an academic etude, this is truly a well proportioned and argued symphonic statement. Lewenthal is breathtaking in the stark staccato passage near the end of the 1st movement of the Symphonie, taking them to a shattering climax. The other Alkan selections "Le Festin D'Esope" (from the op 39 Etudes) Barcarolle and "Quasi-Faust" from the Grande Sonata" are stunning in their virtuosity and musical thought. The Liszt piece "Hexameron" (I am not a big fan of Liszt's hyper-romantic music) is technically brilliant and always musical.
I was introduced to these performances from the wonderful Lance G. Hill who is not only the force behind the Classical Music Guide but hosts a weekly radio program featuring an artist of the week on Saturday evenings. You can listen in on WPEL radio Saturday at 7PM EST 6PM CST.
Worth seeking out!
Tomorrow, from the other side of the spectrum, The River Cow Orchestra.
On the CD player now is a wonderful recording, one of the few available, sadly, of Liszt and Alkan piano works by the renowned but sadly almost forgotten American pianist Raymond Lewenthal. Lewenthal, born in Texas of Russian parents, burst on the scene in the late 40s, winning major competitions and having the enviable honor of making his orchestral debut as a soloist with Mitropoulos conducting the Philadelphia Orchestra in the Prokofiev 3rd Piano Concerto. Lewenthal was on to the road to a remarkable career when he was brutally attacked in New York's Central Park in 1953. The attack left his arms broken and he retreated to Europe to recover phyiscally and mentally.
Lewenthal returned to prominence in 1963 when in a radio broadcast he played and discussed the remarkable works of Charles Valentin Alkan (1813-1889) a great, but reclusive French pianist, composer and teacher. Lewenthal devoted the rest of his career and few recordings to Alkan, Liszt and some of the lesser known Romantic composers such as Moscheles, Scharwenka, Rubinstein, Field and Dussek. Lewenthal died in New York in 1988 while working on a definitive biography and study of his hero Alkan.
The recording I am listening to, Elan 82276 (available from CD Universe, HB Direct, Amazon or Archiv Records to name a few) is a re-release of the acclaimed 1965-1966 RCA recording, which some say in its rare CD iteration is superior in sound to this one, but try to get a copy for under $45.
The cost of this or the RCA CD is worth the price for the stunning Alkan Symphonie For Piano, movements from his !2 Etudes for the Minor Keys OP 39. Far from an academic etude, this is truly a well proportioned and argued symphonic statement. Lewenthal is breathtaking in the stark staccato passage near the end of the 1st movement of the Symphonie, taking them to a shattering climax. The other Alkan selections "Le Festin D'Esope" (from the op 39 Etudes) Barcarolle and "Quasi-Faust" from the Grande Sonata" are stunning in their virtuosity and musical thought. The Liszt piece "Hexameron" (I am not a big fan of Liszt's hyper-romantic music) is technically brilliant and always musical.
I was introduced to these performances from the wonderful Lance G. Hill who is not only the force behind the Classical Music Guide but hosts a weekly radio program featuring an artist of the week on Saturday evenings. You can listen in on WPEL radio Saturday at 7PM EST 6PM CST.
Worth seeking out!
Tomorrow, from the other side of the spectrum, The River Cow Orchestra.
Wednesday, September 09, 2009
Notes from a Trip: Mayophobia
On board the Lincoln Service/Missouri Mule train from Chicago to Kansas City, one can usually find Pat in the last car manning the cafe. One benefit of train tavel is that you can actually get up and wobble down the aisle to the cafe car and purchase a drink or a snack. The fare is little better than airline food, and catering to a captive audience, it is quite pricey. But the pleasure of getting out of your seat and taking a stroll to get a coffee, microwaved hamburger or packaged deli sandwich is a bit of a pleasure.
Pat handled the cafe car on both days I traveled, so she recognized me from my frequent trips for coffee. Being about 7PM with my diabetic tummy needing some food, a trip to Pat was in order.
A lady was ahead of me and she got one of those awful Asian ramen noodle cups and a turkey and swiss sandwich. As Pat was heating the noodles, the lady opened the packaged sandwich and started to cover it with several packs of mayo...just like I was going to do as I had decided that was to be my choice (minus the noodles).
"OH!! I can't STAND the sight of mayonnaise"!!!!! Pat screamed while turning her head and shading her eyes from the offending condiment.
She handed the lady her change and the hot noodles while not looking at the mayo doused sandwich. "I am sorry, the sight of it makes my skin crawl, I can just imagine being buried in it.OOOOOOHH ahhhhgh!" She shuddered as the poor customer slinked away from the counter, feeling like she had just asked for a shit sandwich.
Needless to say, I slathered my mayo on mine out of sight of Miss Pat.
Mayoitis. That is the formal name for mayonnaise phobia, at least according to my net research. Apparently it is somewhat common; there is even a Facebook page for mayo phobics.
As for me, put mayo on a dead horse ass and I would probably eat it.
I am Don, I am a mayoholic... HI DON!
Pat handled the cafe car on both days I traveled, so she recognized me from my frequent trips for coffee. Being about 7PM with my diabetic tummy needing some food, a trip to Pat was in order.
A lady was ahead of me and she got one of those awful Asian ramen noodle cups and a turkey and swiss sandwich. As Pat was heating the noodles, the lady opened the packaged sandwich and started to cover it with several packs of mayo...just like I was going to do as I had decided that was to be my choice (minus the noodles).
"OH!! I can't STAND the sight of mayonnaise"!!!!! Pat screamed while turning her head and shading her eyes from the offending condiment.
She handed the lady her change and the hot noodles while not looking at the mayo doused sandwich. "I am sorry, the sight of it makes my skin crawl, I can just imagine being buried in it.OOOOOOHH ahhhhgh!" She shuddered as the poor customer slinked away from the counter, feeling like she had just asked for a shit sandwich.
Needless to say, I slathered my mayo on mine out of sight of Miss Pat.
Mayoitis. That is the formal name for mayonnaise phobia, at least according to my net research. Apparently it is somewhat common; there is even a Facebook page for mayo phobics.
As for me, put mayo on a dead horse ass and I would probably eat it.
I am Don, I am a mayoholic... HI DON!
Tuesday, September 08, 2009
Notes From a Trip
First of all kudos to Amtrak for a great trip. For years, at least here in Missouri, Amtrak was synonymous with "late". I took Michael to the Independence station years ago for a trip back to Jeff City and the train was 45 min late from Kansas City, where it started! My sister was always late arriving, and two years ago I used it to Jeff City and could have walked there faster.
Some new sidings, allowing the freights to pull over, more double track, a new double track bridge and supposedly better co ordination with the freight trains has eliminated a lot of the delay. I think less freight traffic may contribute as well.
The train was clean, spacious, free of hassle (I carried 5 bottles of wine back in my bag, see if you can do that in a plane) and the passengers friendly and varied. Watching the scenery go by, observing life in the small towns, seeing the back side of the world (not always attractive, but certainly interesting), with the drone of the clack clack clack of the wheels is comforting and somewhat nostalgic.
And besides, it got me there in one piece.. what more could one ask?
Some new sidings, allowing the freights to pull over, more double track, a new double track bridge and supposedly better co ordination with the freight trains has eliminated a lot of the delay. I think less freight traffic may contribute as well.
The train was clean, spacious, free of hassle (I carried 5 bottles of wine back in my bag, see if you can do that in a plane) and the passengers friendly and varied. Watching the scenery go by, observing life in the small towns, seeing the back side of the world (not always attractive, but certainly interesting), with the drone of the clack clack clack of the wheels is comforting and somewhat nostalgic.
And besides, it got me there in one piece.. what more could one ask?
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