Heiner Goebbels

Tonight we saw an interesting music theater work by the German composer/theatrical artist Heiner Goebbels.  It featured texts by T.S. Eliot (Prufrock..), Maurice Blanchot, Kafka, and Beckett (Worstward Ho).  Sung and acted by the Hilliard Ensemble (4 male vocalists), with some taped electronic accompaniment. It was a fully staged theatrical presentation, with elaborate sets.  It could have been called some kind of opera, though Goebbels refers to it as "concert tableaux".

In the set above, each of the singers was in a different window in the house, singing at the same time.
The piece at times was very still. The first 10 minutes are done it almost silence, as the singers enact some very ritualistic packing up of all the materials on the set.
While I can't say that I loved the piece, I was consistently intrigued by the music theater implications of what he was doing.  The chief problem was that the text was not often clearly understandable, which does make a difference, especially in the Beckett  (""Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.")

Vera's Day

Vera had a wonderful day today. It was warm and sunny.  She went jogging along the Hudson River in Riverside Park down to 79th Street, and then she walked over to Zabar's to buy her coffee, etc., and then walked home along Broadway.  And she stopped on the way along Broadway and bought a purse!   All New York was out and about enjoying the sunny weather, eating outside.  What a pleasure!

Brahms

Last night I did something I usually don't do; I went to the New York Philharmonic to hear a 19th century program.   But in this case, it was a fluff-free all Brahms program, and they sent me discount invitations via email.  (Vera and our friend Tina went to the movies instead.)  In addition, the concert was to be conducted by Kurt Masur, a noted Brahms conductor.   The Double Concerto, which I love, was the first half.  It had a last minute substitute cellist, and, as well, they announced that Masur would not be able to conduct the piece, but would conduct the second half, Brahms 2nd symphony.  So the Double Concerto was conducted by an assistant, and the result was pretty messy.  Masur it turns out, is extremely frail, and can barely move.  But in any case, the 2nd was a delight, and reminded me of how much I love Brahms, and love hearing it performed by a live orchestra.  I thought only Wagner Ring cycles were subject to last minute cancellations.  

I bought a ticket for the Brahms 3rd and 4th next week, too.

We still have gas lines out our windows, and car horns honking all day long as people battle over their place in line.

Climate Change

Ten days ago, Vera and I were sitting outside having lunch on a warm day.  Then came Hurricane Sandy.  Now we have a classic Northeaster storm, with 40 mph winds and snow blowing sideways.  Airports are shut down again, etc.  I am not ready for this....

The view out our window:

A very confused pedestrian sign in the snow:

Morton Feldman

Last night we heard an extraordinary concert of works for very large orchestra and soloists by Morton Feldman, performed by a Czech orchestra from the town of Ostrova.   It was supposedly the first all Feldman orchestral concert in the US, and featured the US premieres of two major works, "Flute and Orchestra" and "Violin and Orchestra".  Both Vera and I were totally entranced; Feldman's ear for color is nowhere more apparent than in these orchestral works, and the imaginative variety of his timbres is astonishing.  The orchestra played with extreme precision, and in the intimate space of Alice Tully Hall, every note was clear.
Feldman's music is not for everyone. It moves quite slowly, and eschews any kind of grand theatrical gesture or even regular pulse.  Once you accept the scope of his music, the musical ideas are consistently interesting.  Things are always changing, and musical ideas keep on returning in recognizable transformations.  There were also even some very loud brass fortissimos!  
The program featured one work written in the early 1960's, and then three works written in the later 1970's which showed Feldman's music evolving into his late style of the 1980's (best exemplified by his 6 hour string quartet!).  The last piece, "Violin and Orchestra" was about an hour long, and eventually seems to make time stop.  Those who know me know that I am not one to tolerate musical stillness for very long.  But somehow, I was able to focus on this piece.
The only disappointment was the sparseness of the crowd; I had thought that we were in a Morton Feldman boom of some kind, and that the hall would be packed for an event this unique.
All in all, one of the most satisfying concerts I have been to in a long time.

Normal?

As I write, things are getting a bit back to normal in Manhattan, but the rest of New York is still in a desperate state.  We now have subway service down to 14th Street!   What has been noticeable walking around the last few days is how nice Manhattan is with fewer cars, as a consequence of driving restrictions and the gasoline shortage.  It never really occurred to me how many people consider it normal to use their cars to get around Manhattan. They did try to introduce congestion charges a few years ago, as in London, but it was vetoed by the Albanians (the State Legislature).
Except that this morning, I heard another symphony of car horns honking, with loud, barking voices outside our window.  It turns out that there is a gas station on 96th Street, and there was a long line of cars on West End Avenue waiting to get gas.  So the police were there, with street barriers, and of course, fights between drivers trying to cut into the line at the intersections.

Update:  We still have our gas queue, with its attendant police supervision.   Whenever the police go away, the car horns start and chaos resumes.  It feels like the 1970's.  An energy crisis!   Luckily, we are in NY, so it doesn't matter if all those in line for gas vote for Romney to drill more oil for them.   And, hopefully, they don't have guns.
At 6 PM there were three policeman supervising the chaos.

Cacaphony

Today, people in NY were trying to get back to work.  Which meant in their cars.  Which meant that Manhattan was in a state of absolute gridlock.  Which meant that, outside our window on West End Avenue, there have been car horns honking non-stop all day long.  Varese would have been thrilled;  me, not so much.    
When I went out, I discovered that it was Halloween.  I also discovered that, in NY, kids go trick-or-treating at stores along Broadway.   So the local pizza joint hands out candy to kids, as does the dry cleaner.  I wonder how long this has been going on?

Tomorrow we are supposed to get limited subway service...

Hurricane Sandy

As I write on Tuesday afternoon, the storm is mostly over, but NY is a total mess.   We spent the storm inside our apartment, looking out the windows.  From our perspective, it was an unusually windy day, with some light rain.   Which is why it was so strange to turn on the television, and see images of streets flooding, power outages, and general chaos 60 blocks to the south of us.   In the Upper West Side, taxis were still driving around at the height of the storm (until the mayor kicked them off the streets..)  We almost felt as if we were watching news from another city; a strange disconnect.   It was also very disconcerting to see images of areas we had just walked in a few days ago now under water.   (The Chelsea gallery area was flooded, too.)   Today, everything is very quiet, things are still pretty much closed, even though our neighborhood has power.  Still no public transportation, and it will be quite a while before the subways get going again.
Life in New York is never dull!

Subway steps, unused...

All the city parks are "closed", with yellow tape at all entrances.  Which for New Yorkers of all ages, is certain provocation to enter.  Many people were milling about, taking pictures of fallen limbs and trees.  Here are some trees that didn't fall down in Riverside Park:

We aren't going anywhere...

The subway this afternoon...

St. John the Divine

On a neighborhood walk the other day, I stumbled in to the Cathedral of St. John the Divine, by some measures the largest cathedral in the world, and perpetually unfinished. I have walked by in many times, but I haven't been inside in many years.  The interior space is truly impressive.  And entering into a gothic style cathedral from the streets of NY's upper west side is a totally incongruous experience.

Paris or New York?

The interior

The light through a stain glass window on a perpendicular wall:

Another church in the neighborhood.  Where am I?

A favorite entranceway in our neighborhood:

A Long Walk

Vera and I decided to take a long walk today, considering that, with the imminent arrival of Hurricane Sandy, we might not be going anywhere for a few days, with heavy rains predicted and the possible shutdown of the subway system.   (Vera wants to get some sandbags for our apartment!)
We started out just north of the World Trade Center, and walked through all the chic districts:  TrBeCa, the Meatpacking District, The West Village, and the southern part of Chelsea, with a stop at a Belgian Brasserie for lunch, sitting outside in the still warm weather.   New York is endlessly fascinating in its variety of architecture and people.  All of these reclaimed industrial areas have a broad mix of all kinds of buildings, from clusters very small 2 or 3 story 19th century houses to mammoth industrial warehouses, with bits of modern architecture mixed in, both high end and plain.  Chic restaurants and high end boutiques next to shipping warehouses still functioning.  The people are equally mixed.
We also walked a bit along the seawall (they don't call it that here), the Hudson River Park.

Pictures:

The seawall with the new WTC in the background (and some serious black clouds):

(Update after Hurricane Sandy: this area was all under water during the storm..)

Some old houses:

And here is a self portrait in front of a store selling very chic black pumpkins:

World Series: Mahler 8, Ives 4

Last night we went to hear the American Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Leon Botstein, in a program of Ives' 4th Symphony and Mahler's 8th.   Either one of the pieces is an incredibly complex undertaking for both orchestra and listeners that would normally be the centerpiece of any evening.   Sadly to say, Botstein and his orchestra would never be mistaken for the NY Philharmonic, and there were numerous flubs throughout the evening, including 2 false starts for the second movement of the Mahler.  That said, it was a treat to hear Ives 4th, which is rarely performed, and one of the landmark pieces of the 20th century.  I last heard it performed by the NY Phil. with Boulez conducting in the 1970's.   All of Ives' crazy juxtapositions and startling dissonances were there, and it is inspiring to hear his way of hearing music, which is very different.  We don't get expressionist climaxes of angst;  things clash and then they stop.   The Mahler had so many people on stage that parts of the chorus were on the second tier balcony, about 3 seats over from us.   What the orchestra and chorus lacked in cohesion they made up for in sheer quantity of sound.  It was a pleasure to hear Vancouver's Tyler Duncan as one of the singers, though they were not clearly audible as Botstein placed them in the back of the stage among the chorus.
It was the 50th anniversary of the orchestra's first concert, so all tickets were priced at their original price, as in 5 or 7 dollars.

Asian Art

I saw several exhibits at the Metropolitan Museum of Art that featured Chinese and Japanese art devoted to depictions of nature and gardens.   The Chinese art featured works starting from the 11th Century.  I am beginning to think that I need to re-educate myself in the history of art.   After a lifetime of viewing early European art centering around religion and portraits of important people, it is interesting to contemplate the very sophisticated traditions of Asian art.  The Chinese works I saw were painted and drawn on silk, beginning in the 11th century, and are in a remarkable state of preservation.   They come from a very different way of looking at the world.  I especially like the very long scroll paintings, images that you simply can't take in without moving your eyes.  Here are a few examples, dating from the 11th and 12th centuries  (click to make them bigger):

The Morgan Library

I saw the exhibition of 100 drawings at the Morgan Library.  They were from a Munich museum, and ranged from Renaissance to contemporary.   The older drawings were fascinating; especially the Renaissance ones.  One thing that struck me about these drawings was that both the technique and purpose of the drawings varied widely, even in the Renaissance.  Some were sketched in just a few details in a way that seemed very modern (perhaps as studies for larger works, while others were fully detailed works of art, using a wide variety of techniques for manipulating chalk, ink and paper.   In addition, the texture of the paper, in some cases 500 years old, lends  an interesting texture to the work.
One example, by Pontormo:

The Morgan Library, of course, contains lots of other things in its collection,  books and illuminated manuscripts, and the loot of J.P.'s acquisitions.  As my friend Santa said, perhaps this is reminder of what we are in for in the future if indeed we enter the Age of Romney and the one percent.

The Brandy Library

Last night we went to watch the Harold Lloyd film "Safety Last" at a film series in Tribeca that our friend Krin curates.   Afterwards, we went to the Brandy Library, which has no books, but perhaps the largest collection of distilled spirits around.   The drink menu is a very large and thick book....    I had a tasting flight of specially selected single malt scotches called "Smoked Out"   They were:   Bowmore 12 years, Longrow CV, Ardbeg Corryvreckan, Isle of Jura Prophecy, Bunnahabhain 1997,

and a Mystery Smokey Single Malt.  

(Hi Greg!)   

Many tequilas, as well.

The place looks like a library because all the bottles are out on shelves for everyone to see.  

  

I didn't try the single malt called "Sheep Dip"

Along with things like a plate of charcuterie, it was a decadent evening.  

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....