Holy Pina!

We saw the new film, "Holy Motors" by Leos Carax and a dance piece by Pina Bausch over the weekend.  "Holy Motors" is outrageous and audacious, a bizarre dream-like sequence of events where you can never be sure what will happen next.  A moment of pathos can be followed by something completely ridiculous that undermines the whole thing.    When we saw Pina Bausch's last work, we were immediately struck by the resemblance to "Holy Motors".  Much of Bausch's earlier work featured dance within a sequence of improbable stage events, from dancers serving tea to the audience, to dancers acting like little children, or engaging in repetitive activities.  This last work, though, was disappointing.  All of the trademarks of her work were there, but there were far too many solo dances, only a few of which were really exciting.   Also, I find her choices of music to be much less interesting than in the past.  Earlier works included bits of classical music, old sentimental ballad recordings, and all kinds of things.   This last work has some nice Chilean music, but far too much generic electronic-ethno-dance type music (whatever that is..)

One shot from Holy Motors.

A Great Day in Harlem

Today we went to walk around Harlem with our friend Santa from Vancouver, who lived there many years ago.   Here she is in front of the building she used to live, the Lenox Terraces:

We wandered around some of the main sections and historical districts, and had lunch at a very chic African restaurant.  The architecture in Harlem is truly extraordinary, both in the residential brownstones and the numerous churches.  Even the Mormons have a church there..   (a modern and office building like church..)  It was a warm and sunny Saturday, and everyone was out and about.

Here are some pictures:
(If you click on the pictures, they get bigger..)
A row of brownstones:

A church, the Mother African Methodist Episcopal Zion Church:

The more humble 7th Day Adventist (one of many..):

A mansard roof, imported from Paris:

Some of the many beautiful rows of railings:

A nice window, with a reflection of Marcus Garvey Park, a rocky outcrop in the middle of Harlem:

A small baptist church, right on the Malcom X Boulevard.

More houses, with carvings and stain glass windows:

More Photography

This week I did another tour of the galleries on Chelsea.  I saw four very high quality shows of black and white photographs, by Robert Adams, the Bechers, Brett Weston, and Robert Frank, plus a show entitled 7 Americans, which recreated a show put on by the American photographer and gallery maestro Alfred Steiglitz in the early 20th century, which combined black and white photographs with abstract color watercolors and paintings.   One of the problematic aspects of photography is the fact that many photographs can be reproduced in excellent quality in books, and in the case of some photographers, the difference in quality between the real thing and the "reproduction" is negligible.   In the shows I saw, though, the quality of the most of the prints was superb, and they have a particular glow and sheen to them that comes from the photographic processes used to print and develop them.

A Walk in New York

My daily routine in New York has settled into a pattern of working in the morning and talking a walk in the afternoon, sometimes short and sometimes long.   Today I took a short walk around our neighborhood, where there is always something interesting to see.

I was lured out by some colorful writings that I saw on the street from our window.

I started by walking down West End Avenue, where I saw more  cryptic writings on the sidewalk.  

 I also saw this famous little Tudor style passageway:

 And a very mysterious shadow of a blue bird in a window.

Then over to Broadway, where I stopped at Barzini's grocery, where they always have 3 or 4 interesting cheeses out for free tastings. Then to Pain Quotidien, for some croissants.  Then a stop at Gotham Wines, where they had free tastings of single malt Scotches.  (I was encouraged to compare a 15 year old with a 12 year old Scotch.  I did.)    That is my kind of walk!

High Culture

On Tuesday night, we went to another NYC Ballet concert, this time only 50% Balanchine and 50% Stravinsky.  The first piece was "Rubies", set by Balanchine to Stravinsky's Capriccio for Piano and Orchestra.  The music was a pleasure to hear (why do these pieces by Stravinsky never get performed?).  The choreography was Balanchine in a more populist mode, sometimes seeming to channel his inner Rockette.  The other highlight was "Symphony in C", set to a symphony written by Georges Bizert when he was 17.  The music is some sort of Mozart "lite", as if Mozart had taken out all the complicated stuff his father disapproved of.   But it serves the choreography well, as it is clear and well structured.  The finale is truly astonishing, as Balanchine carefully brings in more and more dancers, until the end when there are more than 50 on stage, in a dazzling display of intricate patterns.   The rest of the program reminded me that I don't really like more traditional ballet very much, and that one can get tired of tutus and tendus.


On Wednesday night, we went to hear Turandot at the Met, as we were invited by my stepmother.  It was an over the top Zefferelli production, where no possible square inch of the stage remains undecorated.   It suits Turandot well, though, and I like eye candy as much as anyone else.   The opera itself was a mix of bombast and little comedy bits.  As it is set in some sort of ancient China, there are lots of Chinese style melodies, which to me grate against the conventional Puccini Italian opera style.   There are some striking moments in the choral and orchestral writing, and it was exceeding well played and sung.

On Friday night, I returned to Lincoln Center for the third time in four days (Vera had had enough) to hear Schoenberg's Piano Concerto, something that one rarely gets to hear performed in North America.  It was one of the best things I have heard in years!   I have never heard it live, and the Philharmonic performance was fantastic, with scrupulous attention to detail combined with an expressive intensity.  This piece, a true 12-tone work, has always seemed interesting in recordings, but somehow pedantic.  In this performance, I felt like I was hearing one of the great masterpieces of the 20th century.  Schoenberg's musical thought, as always, moves at lightning speed.   Interestingly, the performance was followed by a lithe and expressive rendering of Mozart's Linz symphony, a juxtaposition I dismissed beforehand, but which I found very illuminating.  Mozart's musical thought also moves rapidly, and some of his quirky rhythmic shifts reminded me of Schoenberg's rhythmic patterns  (which can sometimes be even more disconcerting to the listener than his pitches).

So that's it for Lincoln Center high culture for a while....

Photographs

On Sunday, my sister and her husband came up to New York.  They share an interest with me in photographs, so after brunch, we proceeded to view three different exhibitions.  (Vera demurred, not liking photography as art..)   What we saw was something different for me, which is that the exhibitions were all for upcoming auctions at Sotheby's, Christie's, etc.   What you see is 200-300 photographs that are basically museum quality.  It's like going to a museum, except the photographs are for sale, and the show only lasts for a week, until it makes way for the next auction.   There were some wonderful photographs, mostly by familiar photographers, and a few discoveries.  If you are there at the right time, it is a great way to see interesting art in a low key, non-museum situation.

Life in New York

Both Vera and I are happily adjusting to our new routines of life in the city, learning where to find our food, setting up our workspaces, and in general settling in.  I have enjoyed walking around the Upper West Side, and I am always energized by the sheer variety of humanity that one encounters on the streets here.  The neighborhood also has some beautiful architecture, and there will be photos eventually.
We had dinner with our friends Jane and George from Vancouver, and miss our other friends who are not visiting New York.    We keep in touch with Ada via Skype, and I tend feel guilty about  forgetting  about our dog Maggie, (except I always think of her after dinner, when she normally gets to lick the plates..)

Stravinsky!

Our cultural season has started in earnest, so much so that I have fallen behind in my blog.  Two ballets, a concert, and an "opera" in a week.
We heard the NY Philharmonic perform Stravinsky's "Rite of Spring" last week in an astonishingly clear and powerful performance conducted by Alan Gilbert.  I heard things I had never heard before, and the dynamic power of Stravinsky's brass writing has to be heard in person.  But the audacity and energy of Stravinsky's conception is what stood out.  The relentless movement, the crashing dissonances, and delicate sonorities are still startling, one hundred years after the piece was premiered.  A truly memorable experience.  Also on the program was Beethoven's 3rd Piano concerto, with an enigmatic slow movement, and a kind of mini-concerto by Kurtag, with the piano on the stage, and the rest of the instruments spread around the hall.  A pleasure to hear, and the audience actually behaved itself.

The New York City Ballet has been having a 2 week Stravinsky/Balanchine festival, and we have heard/seen two programs.   The music, to begin with, is wonderful; we have heard performances of Symphony in Three Movements, Violin Concerto, Orpheus, Agon, Apollo, Movements For Piano and Orchestra, and Duo Concertante, among others.   And the choreography is consistently inspiring, interacting with the music and changing how we perceive it.   Agon is the summit of the Stravinsky/Balanchine collaboration, and I feel very lucky to be living on a planet where I can experience this piece live.   I am only beginning to get a grasp of how Balanchine's choreography interacts with the music; they are deeply intertwined, in ways that are both straightforward and subtle.  It is true counterpoint of music and movement, and a delight to experience.

Less delightful was our experience with the Robert Wilson/Philip Glass opus, "Einstein on the Beach".  This notorious mishmash of downtown New York culture from the 1970's has its moments, but often bogs down in the endless repetition of the Philip Glass music.  I enjoy Robert Wilson's visual settings, and the slowed down time doesn't really bother me that much.  (The space ship finale is stunning, though it is either ripped off from or an homage to the scene in Lang's "Metropolis" where all the workers are rapidly adjusting the clock hand type levers of the Moloch machine.)

In the beginning of the opera, the Philip Glass music has some interest, with some slowly changing processes.   But eventually, he runs out of invention, and simply plays the same riff over and over again, with virtually no changes, for 20 minutes at a time.   The worst part, though, is when Glass abandons his austere minimalism for some sentimental glop at the end, including an ersatz Bach style organ interlude, and a very sentimental little tonal interlude which sounds like the work of a very young composition student who has fallen under the spell of something like Schubert's "Ave Maria".  I had always thought that Glass's sentimental music was a later career move, but it was there from the start.

The whole piece, which includes text and dance as well, lacks a true visionary coherence; it is more something that a bunch of people kind of put together without really knowing what they were after.  But it is famous...

Back in New York

We are back in New York, this time for an extended stretch.  It feels great to be here.  For the most part, we have spent our first week getting ourselves organized for work at home.  In fact, we are finally moving in; I have been unpacking boxes of random stuff that I packed up in haste when I was cleaning out my father's house.  I found a program of the first concert performance of my music (a piece for 2 pianos, 8 hands) in Canada in Toronto in 1973.  I also performed on steel drum under the baton of Princess Yasmin Aga Khan, who was conducting her own music.

Our Vancouver friends will be amused to know that we went to a farmer's market in our neighborhood.
Culture starts in earnest next week with the New York City Ballet and Einstein on the Beach.
A New York story:  As Vera and I were casing the various food stores in our neighborhood to recalibrate our daily food habits, I saw some nice looking bakalava.  I watched as the clerk weighed my pieces on the scale, and then turned to find a container to put them in. While she was turned, a man came up next to me, reached over the counter to the scale where my baklava was, and grabbed a piece of it.   I protested, so he put it back, which made me protest even more.  He said he thought it was one of those plates where people get to try free samples.     He got to eat the piece he had touched, I got a replacement piece, and I learned that in New York, you always have to watch your baklava.  (or, if you are really hungry, how to get free baklava...)

Memories...

As I mentioned in the beginning of this trip blog, I went to all these cities on a family trip in 1967.   What I have retained in my memory from that trip is a series of images and sensations, some precise and some vague.  From Russia, I remember the taste of the soda (there was no cola of any kind in Russia at the time), and the orange paint in the barracks-like building of our hotel.   (At that time, you stayed where the Russian tourist bureau told you to stay.) And there was always a lady at the end of the corridor, who kept watch on things. From Copenhagen, I remember narrow streets and brick buildings, and the pornography that was displayed openly (i.e. explicit images on the covers) on every newsstand and counter.   (OK, I was 16...)   I have since discovered that I was there in June 1967, exactly the moment when Denmark became the first country to legalize pornography.  In Sweden, we were there just before another momentous change, when they switched from driving on the left to driving on the right.  I remember all the signs.    From  Finland, I remember the pleasure my brother and I had seeing the drunken bums on the waterfront in what was otherwise a very clean and orderly city.  There are other memories...

On Our Way Home

So we are at the airport, and our flight is delayed.   Because we fly so much on Air Canada, they let us in to these fancy lounges with free food and drink.   In Canada, it is pretty minimal, but here you have a very nice selection of wines and even scotches, so that you can help yourself to as much Laphroaig as you wish.  Too bad it is the morning with 16 hours of travel ahead of us.  There is also a fire in a fireplace...

Among the many things that are striking in this part of the world is the number of baby strollers, and in particular how common it is to see men walking down the street pushing strollers.  Parents receive a very long parental leave, and babies and children are welcome and taken everywhere.   Comparing that to the US, which is one of 2 or 3 countries in the world that don't require employers to grant maternity or paternity leave.  (I think Liberia and Sierra Leone are 2 of the others..)

Communes

Today we walked around Copenhagen, and saw a "newer" area that was more like French cities of the 19th Century.  We made the obligatory stop to see the mermaid statue, and then took a boat to an area called Christianhaven, to see a "free state" called Christiania.  This was founded in 1971, when a group of squatters occupied an abandoned military area, and proclaimed a free state, independent of all rules of the Danish government and contemporary society.  What followed was a predictable sequence of drug problems, random violence, biker gangs, protests, attempts by the state to reclaim the territory, etc.   What is amazing is that it is still going, and a little island of hippiedom in the middle of Copenhagen.   You can buy pot and various arts and crafts, but you can't take pictures.  How can you have a free state and not be allowed to take pictures?   I actually saw someone be stopped and prevented from taking a picture.
Mostly it is pretty decrepit...
Anyway, here is a picture from the web...

We also saw a very over the top 17th century organ in a church.   Note the elephants...This is for Lynn..

Museums

Today we went to the Danish National Gallery.   Not a great collection, but interesting nonetheless.   Name a famous Danish painter....   Well, the truth is Denmark has not produced a famous artist, and it is interesting to contemplate why.   Well, it is a small country, but so is the Netherlands.   They have rooms full of Danish paintings, nothing great, and far too many pictures of nationalistic countryside scenes.   On the other hand, a nice collection of European old masters; none of which we have in Vancouver.  There were some fascinating trompe l'oeil still lives from the 17th century.

We also went to the National Museum, primarily to look at Viking artifacts.  What we encountered in the exhibit, which ranged from 10,000 BC to the Viking Age was quite interesting.  The museum had commissioned contemporary artists to create new works that interacted with the exhibits.   One artist decided to create explanatory captions which mimicked the real captions, while exaggerating or distorting the actual facts, in some case outrageously so.  The captions looked almost exactly like the real ones, and there was no indication anywhere to indicate that the captions were an art work and not what they appeared to be.  Vera and Ada were quite annoyed, because they assumed the captions were true, from having seen the more believable ones, and proceeding from the normal assumption that you should believe what they say.  Once I saw one about amber being created from solar bursts, I started to become suspicious.  When we all realized what was going on, we had to go back and look at the captions again.  A very interesting experience!  Never believe what you read in a museum.

An example, don't know if it is readable.

Copenhagen

We arrived in Copenhagen this afternoon after a short flight from Oslo.  Copenhagen is a great walking city; the whole center is mostly narrow streets and lots of pedestrian streets, and there is a nice variety of architecture (old buildings).  Stores are almost all local, and there are many cafes, pubs, etc.  And around every corner is some interesting historical building.   Everyone rides bicycles; all the streets have bike lanes, and there are even green lights and turn signals just for bikes. It is something close to my ideal urban environment. (not that I would be riding a bike...)


And, of course, there is a spectacular opera house on the water.....
At 10:30 PM:

Tomorrow, museums...

More Opera

It was a cold, rainy day in Oslo.   We went to the Vigeland Sculpture Park, where the eponymous sculptor worked from 1925 - 1945 creating a huge amount of stone and metal sculptures of human figures.  It was impressive in its panoramic view of humanity, but the individual sculptures reminded me a little too much of the kind of things that Facist art did; at times we could have been in Mussolini's Rome.   It brought back memories of Socialist Realism for Vera.

At night we went to the Oslo Opera House to hear Monteverdi's Return of Ulysses, an opera written in 1639.  The malfunctioning subtitles in the first half made enjoyment difficult for me, but when the titles were working, it was a pleasure.   Excellent singers and a very large orchestra of with lots of unusual early Baroque instruments.  The production was the usual European updated mess;  we were in some kind of modern shipping office, and the Gods had waiter's uniforms with wings, etc.

The Oslo Opera House is a truly spectacular building.  Built on the waterfront, it has slanted marble planes which go all the way from the water to the roof.   You can walk all around on top of the roof.   Can't imagine what it would be like in the snow...
Brings up the usual thoughts about the cultural priorities in Vancouver vs. Europe.   For 500 million dollars, we got a new roof on our sports stadium.   Oslo got an opera house.

Pictures:

Off to Copenhagen tomorrow on our high speed tour...

Viking Ships

Today we took a ferry to see the Viking ships.   These ships were actually buried in the 9th  century; if you were important, you were buried along with a ship, many material goods, and even your slaves and dogs to help you out in the next world.  A peculiar practice, to say the least.   But it gives us the chance to see what an actual 9th century ship looked like.  They are quite beautiful in their curved construction.

We also saw the ship the Fram, which Amundsen sailed to the South Pole, which is housed inside a building.   Other than that, walking around Oslo, observing the city and the Saturday afternoon crowds.
How rich is Norway?   So rich that they hire Swedes to work as waiters in their restaurants.  We ate dinner at a restaurant in a building constructed in 1641.  I ate reindeer, and it was excellent.

Munchless in Oslo

Today we flew from Stockholm to Oslo  (a one hour flight, cost, $63).   No snow in Oslo, luckily.   Oslo feels more American than anyplace we have been so far.  Some interesting modern developments, and some nice old buildings, but less character.  Though more may be revealed...
The chief disappointment is that the Munch Museum is closed for re-installation, though there are lots Munch paintings  in the National Gallery.  Except that the National Gallery is closed for the two days that we are here because of a strike by the security personnel.   (This is the city where Munch paintings are routinely stolen from museums.)    So we will find other things to see.  Though we will skip the Norwegian Scout Museum.
Oslo seems to deserve its reputation as the most expensive city in the world.   Another oil economy, like Russia.  Dinner was quite ordinary.  Usually I am willing to try almost anything, but I drew the line when I saw whale steak on the menu.

Stockholm

To be honest, Stockholm is a bit of letdown after St. Petersburg.   Instead of broad, open vistas, I see intricate, convoluted cityscapes.  Went to the National Gallery today; more Rembrandts, but I was even more excited by their collection of Russian icons.   Seeing them in person is very different; the special colors and textures of the paint and wood are  intricate and vivid in a way that reproductions never show.   And, in any case, maybe this perspective idea from the Renaissance was a big mistake.  Also went to a new, large photography museum/gallery in a repurposed warehouse;  it was filled with bars, cafes, workshops, gathering places, etc. but not much in the way of interesting photographs.

The other major excitement of the day was the discovery of the crazy decorations of the Stockholm subway system.  Some of the stations are decorated like caves, with brightly colored walls, and strange statues.  Subways from another planet.

Moose for dinner  (no, I am not kidding...)  Moose meatballs, actually.

We are off to Oslo tomorrow;  the weather forecast for this evening there is rain and 0 degrees Cel.  (32 degrees F.)    Hopefully no snow...

Ada and Vera on our last night in Stockhom

Quality Time with Lemurs

We are in Stockholm, back to the normal Europe.  Stockholm is much bigger than Helsinki, and parts of the the downtown fell victim to urban renewal schemes of the 1960's.   But other parts are pleasurable to walk around.
Today we went to see the 17th century warship, "Vasa", which sank on its maiden voyage after less than a kilometer of travel.  It was raised in the 1960's and restored, and is now Stockholm's #1 tourist attraction.   It is quite a sight, a huge ship, and decorated extravagantly to assert the power of the King Gustavis II.  He appears to have been a nasty, war-mongering character... maybe he deserved to have his prize warship sink.

Then Ada and I went to see the monkeys, and Vera went off on her own.  We spent almost an hour with the lemurs, who were in a large closed-in area that we were in too.  There were virtually no other people there, and the lemurs were completely comfortable with our presence, sometimes as close as a foot away.   They were fascinating to watch, and we were completely absorbed.

And then there were the sloths, who eat hanging upside down.

Tonight, Vera went to an opera (by Cavalli) at the 17th century theatre at Drottingholm (as seen in Bergman's Magic Flute), while Ada and I rested in our hotel room.

Swedish meatballs and pickled herring....

Russia

We left Russia today.   I can't help but reflect on the fact that for people my age, we learned growing up that Russia was the enemy.  I still remember practicing in school for a nuclear attack from Russia by hiding under our desks.   Now, of course, we don't feel that way (except for Mitt Romney..), and as an adult I understand much more about what was going on in Russia at the time.  I find it very moving to see the city of St. Petersburg as a prosperous European city, emerging from the dark years of the 20th century and all the trauma from Stalin to WW2.  While certainly all is not perfect under Putin's thumb, it is certainly a thriving city; everywhere you see restoration and construction, and new things emerging.  It is also curious that the magnificence of the city emerged from the policies of two totalitarian regimes, the tsars and the communists.   The broad, open public spaces and civic buildings of all kinds in St. Petersburg contrasts with the feeble uninspired urban fabric of a place like Vancouver, planned by a railroad company with real estate speculation in mind.   What is also interesting is that one still senses the "otherness" of Russia; it is different, and not wholly European.   I got a feeling that people have a great deal of pride in their Russianness.

Today I went to Vladimir Nabokov's house, which was down the street from our hotel.  A few of the rooms in the house have been turned into a museum.   The rest are offices, etc. It is quite a house!

A very cool typewriter:

Some Nabakovian notes:

I also went to the apartment building where Stravinsky grew up; unfortunately, there is no plaque on the building, and his family's apartment is still a Soviet-style communal apartment.

A last picture, taken about 11:30 PM, of the wires which seem to cross randomly from one building to another in St. Petersburg.