Music, Music, Music!

Regular readers of this blog know that my year can be roughly divided into two parts: 1.) running sailboat races, June-September; and 2: going to concerts, October-May. Of course that's not all I do, but those are activities which I don't engage in all year. The separation isn't absolute, especially in September. This year, for example, my last scheduled race committee duty is Saturday, October 1, and as of this writing, I have already attended two concerts and am planning to go to another this evening, September 29.


Dimitrij.  On Friday, September 16, I went to Boston for Odyssey Opera's concert performance of "Dimitrij," by Antonin Dvořák It's about a man who claims to be the lost son of Tsar Ivan the Terrible. He has a polish fiancée, Marina, and Polish forces are supporting him in an attempt to gain control of Russia. The Russian people accept him, but once he is crowned as tsar, things unravel. The Russians resent the Poles. Dimitrij resists his (now) wife's plans to catholicize Russia and falls in love with Xenie, the daughter of  Boris Godunov, his predecessor as tsar. His wife, Marina, has Xenie killed and reveals that he isn't really Dimitrij. Dimitrij was murdered as a child, and the new tsar is actually Grigoriy Otrepyev. He is killed and so is she.

The opera is in Czech, and Czech opera stars were brought in to sing the leading roles. They were excellent. I found the opera very good, both musically and as a drama. The Boston Musical Intelligencer gave an extensive, and very favorable review. They had previously published a very informative preview. The Boston Globe also gave an informative and favorable review.


Boston Artists Ensemble.  The following Friday, September 23, I attended the season opener of the BAE, in Hamilton Hall, Salem. The program was a couple of trios for piano, violin, and cello, with the world premiere of a work for cello and piano between the two. The Beethoven, which began the program, and the Schumann, which followed intermission, are more to my musical taste than the Weir piece. Still, the Weir was unmemorable, rather than really unpleasant. After the concert, I asked the composer if she had specifically decided to ignore the traditional tunes for the words of the first two "chorales." She had done that, so as not simply to give variations on those tunes. I think it was a good decision. With her own music, she was able to evoke the mood she wanted form the text. In the third chorale, since Hildegard's tune is not familiar to us, she could use it for her evocation of the text.

The Boston Musical Intelligencer gave a review of the Sunday performance in Brookline. (There is a minor error. The reviewer says, "The second" when she refers to the third movement, the one based on music of Hildegard von Bingen.)


Der Rosenkavalier.  This evening, September 29, I'll be going to the Boston Symphony's first subscription concert of the season: a concert performance of Richard Strauss's opera, "Der Rosenkavalier." Strauss is far from my favorite composer, but this is one of his good compositions, IMO, so I'm looking forward to it. In my blog preview of the Saturday BSO broadcast, I'll give my impression as well as link any available reviews.

An Evening in the Theater

On Friday evening, I went to Boston to see "Breath and Imagination," about Roland Hayes (1887-1977), a son of former slaves who had a groundbreaking career as a classical tenor. I had expected it to focus more on his concert career, but it turned out to be mostly about his youth and education — how he matured into the successful singer he was — apparently having been inspired by hearing phonograph records of Enrico Caruso. Well-sung opera can be mesmerizing for people whose first encounter with it is devoid of prejudice against it.

At any rate, it's quite a story of his rise from rural poverty to international renown. The play focuses on his first twenty-five years, and on an incident in Georgia in 1942. He had bought the plantation where his parents had been slaves and was opening an integrated music school, when his wife and daughter were refused service in a shoe store in Rome, GA, because they inadvertently sat in the "Whites Only" section, and he was beaten by the police for protesting their treatment. There is a bit about his self-produced sell out concert in Symphony Hall in Boston, where he lived most of his adult life, and a bit about his concert experiences in Europe in the 1920's, and nothing about his life after 1942.

While the play turned out to have a different focus from what I had expected, the story it told may have been more important and inspiring than the story I expected. All in all, it's quite a story of triumph over adversity through hard work and determination to succeed.

Here are some recordings of  various sorts of music.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YSiI9cx0G4U

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BlF8XDXqQjo&list=PL4229DCCC99FA1C9B&index=1

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Wl9GHf2Uoo

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Sibe38cQPQ  In 1923, he sang in Berlin. When he appeared on stage there was hissing and catcalls for a long period, maybe ten minutes. He stood there until the audience quieted and then sang "Du bist die Ruh" and won them over.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b8NGQGIogys

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s2Is7R4XVbo

Catching Up

Actually, there haven't been a lot of events to write about since I did my post on February 8.

I went to the theater in Boston on February 13 to see "Red Eye to Havre de Grace," a play with music about the last days of Edgar Allan Poe (who, I was surprised to learn, was born and raised in Boston, the son of actors who had immigrated from England). It showed his impecuniousness, and his attempts to present his latest ideas about the origin and destiny of the universe, which he had spelled out in a book titled "Eureka." While there is, as the playwrights note, some slight foreshadowing of the Big Bang theory, mostly it came across as incomprehensible. On the lecture circuit, where he tried to present his theory, audiences were more interested in hearing him recite "The Raven," which he found very frustrating. All the while, he was haunted by the death of his wife. After a lecture in Philadelphia, he was supposed to go to New York, but he was seen headed south on the train going to Havre de Grace. Several days later he died in a hospital in Baltimore. It was fascinating to see the depiction of this unfold.

Amazingly, perhaps, I've only been to one concert during this time: the Boston Symphony on February 20. But the BSO has only given one other on a Thursday in that time, namely, "Salome" on March 6. I had a ticket for it but exchanged it for the concert on March 18, when they'll play Beethoven piano concertos and one of the Leonore overtures — part of a series which will include all 5 piano concertos, all 3 Leonore overtures, and the triple concerto. I'll get to all of them. As for the Harvard Musical Association, they had a concert on March 7, but I forgot about it until it would have been difficult to get there.

But I have been making plans. My 50th college reunion will be May 29-June 1 in D.C. I've registered for it and made my flight and hotel reservations. I've also made arrangements to spend June 23-27 at the monastery I thought of joining shortly after college. It will partly be a spiritual retreat, and partly a visit with my old friends. At some point in the summer, I'll go to PEI to visit my cousins and see some of the festivities marking the 150th anniversary of the Charlottetown Conference. And I'm very much looking forward to meeting (former?) fellow blogger Peter when he visits Boston for a Pops concert conducted by John Williams.

I went to the movies a couple of days ago and saw "12 Years a Slave." It's a powerful depiction of the evils of slavery in the pre Civil War South.

As I watched videos of Pete Seeger after his death, I came across a couple with Johnny Cash in them. Following links from those, I was reminded of the Carter Family. (Johnny Cash had married Maybelle Carter's daughter June.)I had first encountered the Carters' music through recordings of some of their songs by Joan Baez early in her career, and I had bought a couple of LP compilations of some of their songs. I started listening to videos of that music (audio, mostly, accompanied by pictures) and became really fascinated by them — so much so that I went to Amazon and bought three books about them, a set of 5 CD's of their earliest recordings, and a CD and vinyl LP of Sara and Maybelle. I even toyed with the idea of going to Virginia early in August to attend a couple of performances at the Carter Family Fold, but I don't think I can afford it this year, with all the other trips I have planned.

If you're interested in hearing what the Carter Family actually sounded like, here are some links.

Bury Me under the Weeping Willow, the first song they recorded. This may be a later recording of the song, but it gives the full flavor of what they could do. (Some of the accompanying photos, with children, are for a spread that was made for Life magazine in the fall of 1941. It was preempted by the attack on Pearl Harbor and never got published.) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YCniFuHlPG0

Wildwood Flower, which became one of the signature tunes for Maybelle and her daughters. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-4xjqpARrHM

The Storms Are on the Ocean, the fourth song recorded the first day in Bristol, Tenn. (That's Jimmie Rodgers at the left in the photo, which dates from several years later.) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v-iXemfEkFw

The Poor Orphan Child, third song they recorded. I hadn't heard it until this year, and it became an earworm for me. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3-EkYhJR3gs

When the World's on Fire, with a tune that Woddy Guthrie later used for This Land Is Your Land. The Carters also used it for Little Darling Pal of Mine. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qxo-zayI6tE

Farther On, sung by Sara in about 1966-7 on a reunion album with Maybelle (but this is a solo by Sara, at age 69), nearly 40 years after the original recordings. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1OSxpkNHshw

You'll see links to lots of other videos. God Gave Noah (pron. Noay) the Rainbow Sign contains the line, "the fire next time." The later ones with Sara and Maybelle have their own interest. I find the 8 minute one especially interesting — it contains some reminiscences by Sara along with footage of the two performing.

A Pleasant Evening in Boston

The Harvard Musical Association had a string sextet (2 each of violins, violas, and cellos) playing a piece by Korngold (written around 1920, i.e., before he started composing movie scores) and one by Brahms. But first, I went to the Scollay Square for dinner.

Arriving at the restaurant, I saw Wendy the waitress and greeted her enthusiastically. We talked a bit about recent symphony concerts which I had attended. When she came to take my dinner order, she mentioned that they had a shrimp cocktail appetizer, but when I said I had been thinking of trying the "Drunken Shrimp," which I had never had, she said I should have it: it was one of her favorites, and the menu would soon be changing. A couple of ladies came in and were seated at the table to my right. When they were discussing what to order, I recommended the miso glazed salmon, which I sometimes have. One of them had it and liked it. If she hadn't, I would have had Wendy put it on my tab. As I was leaving, I asked if Seth still worked there. He does — on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Saturdays — so I asked her to say hello for me. (Some previous posts in which I mention Wendy, Seth, and other waitstaff.)

At the HMA I had a seat which allowed me to see all the players except the second violin, and I could see that each instrument had different music to play — they didn't have both cellos playing the same thing, or both violas or violins. Both pieces were enjoyable. The previous evening I had left Symphony Hall at intermission rather than stay to hear Brahms' Fourth Symphony. As a rule, I don't like Brahms.* But the sextet was composed when he was still under 30, and he hadn't gone all dissonant and it was pleasant to listen to, so I'm glad I didn't leave at intermission this time.

After the concert we had a supper of shrimp cardinale (here's a link to a recipe and here's another — ours had bits of green in it, maybe chives or parsley) on toast points, followed by a green salad. It was very tasty. I know, it was a lot of food for the evening, but my breakfast had been a bowl of Wheatena with 4 apricots, and my lunch had been three ounces of applesauce and 1 1/2 ounces of muenster cheese — and no beer — so a late supper may not have been really excessive. Anyway, it was good.

At the subway station, there was a man with a supply of little American flags and a sign asking for donations. I gave him a dollar, but declined the flag. I don't need another. BTW, the previous night, a young man got on the subway and started yelling about how his coat had been stolen and he needed money to buy another one at Goodwill because he'd be outdoors all night in the freezing weather because he couldn't get a bed at Pine Street Inn, the homeless shelter. The coat would cost $25, and all he had was $15. He may have been on drugs, and the story may have been a fabrication, but he seemed earnest. Two people across from me gave him a couple of dollars, and I gave him a $10 bill. He thanked us warmly, and when he left the train a couple of stops later he again called out his thanks


*I think the Reason I don't like Brahms is his extensive use of dissonance combined with what I think is called "sfrozando." The instruments sort of push the note and then let it diminish a bit. Well whatever it is, the music seems strained to me — as if someone were sitting on a toilet seat and trying to force a bowel movement and repeatedly grunting as he did so. But dissonance in general is something I don't like a lot of. As I noted on my music blog, I disliked last week's "Daphnis and Chloe" by Ravel, and I think it was also because of the extensive use of dissonance. In fact, it may be that I find atonality easier to take than dissonance which doesn't promptly resolve into consonance.

Change of Seasons

The winter activities (concerts, plays) have pretty much ended and summer ones are approaching. Major League Baseball has been going for over a month, which means I've been watching Boston Red Sox games on TV. The college level summer league which has a team nearby will play from June into early August. I blogged about them last fall. More precisely, I blogged about one of the players. He'll be back this summer, along with his older brother. The Yacht Club had its official opening day on the last Saturday of April. I'll be helping run the races beginning in June.

I went to Boston Symphony concerts on April 25 and May 2. The latter was the final program of the season. There's a bit about each of them on my music blog, here and here. And the Harvard Musical Association finished with a flourish. There was the evening I wrote about in my last post. That was Tuesday, April 23. There were two more social evenings, April 26 and May 1; and they brought a potentially interesting waiter development.

Waiter. On Friday the 26th, Wendy, the music-loving waitress at Scollay Square, introduced a new waiter, Blake. She said she was training him, so he'd be helping to serve. He's kinda cute. The following Wednesday, Wendy was working with a large cocktail party which had taken over half the restaurant, and Blake was my waiter. He did a good job and was very pleasant. Unfortunately, he didn't seem interested in my book, but I'm still hoping to have him as my waiter sometimes (Wendy other times) when the HMA resumes in the fall.

Injury (minor). On my way to the BSO concert May 2, I was walking up the escalator at the Government Center subway station. As I neared the top I heard the announcement that the train at the platform was for the line I needed, so I started to run. At the top I tripped and fell. Some people rushed to help me, and asked if I were okay. I said I was and that I had to catch that train, picked up my hat and ticket and got up, with a bit of help and got on the train. I had skinned my left knee, which was sore for a couple of days (and really hurt when I knelt down too quickly on Friday). I've had no discomfort since Friday. So unless it hastens the onset of arthritis, which runs in the family, there seem to be no lasting ill effects.

New Acquaintance. Friday evening, May 3, I went to a reception for the retiring president of the college where I spent a couple of years as a potential monk. He was one of my fellow monk wannabes at the time, and he stayed on. I didn't know many of the alumni there so after a while I was standing alone. A young man approached (Class of 2006) and struck up a conversation. We talked about various things for maybe an hour, and when I was ready to leave he expressed the hope that we'd meet at another alumni event. As he approached me, my gaydar registered, and during our conversation he had a slightly gay affect — not at all flamboyant, very subtle. Wishful thinking? He went to law school after college and passed the bar exam in 2009. Since then he has been working in the personal injury field. I was able to track him down on the internet and found him on facebook. It's one of these very private pages, but since he had expressed interest in seeing me again, I made a friend request. So far, no response. I'm not looking to hang out with him (unless maybe he wants to go to a baseball game sometime), but I'd like to keep in touch on FB.

Last Week Was Busy

It's been a long time since I posted to this blog. In my defense, I did post to my music blog and to In Memory of Razz on his anniversary. There are also extra services I go to on the days leading up to Easter. Then last week turned out to be fairly busy too.

Monday was routine, but on Tuesday I went to a Boston Symphony concert. I had a ticket for Holy Thursday, but I always go to the Mass that evening, so I exchanged the ticket for one for the Tuesday concert. The program actually included a couple of things I had heard back on February 28, with a different piece in the middle. Since neither of the repeats were things I was very familiar with (one was completely new to me), I was glad to be able to hear them again and get a bit more familiar with them. Hearing something for the first time can be an amazing experience, but hearing it again can deepen your understanding — you notice things you didn't notice the first time; you get more of a feel for how it works overall.

The next two evenings also involved trips into Boston — to see plays. On Wednesday it was "Neva" at Arts Emerson. It's a translation of a play by Chile's greatest living playwright (according to the playbill), Guillermo Calderón. He was also the director. A preview in the Boston Globe a couple of days before it opened in Boston describes it like this:

As the audience settles in, a woman dressed in mournful black paces slowly along the wall at the back of the stage. She is, we will discover, the great Russian actress Olga Knipper, widow of Anton Chekhov. It is six months after his death, and she is in a St. Petersburg rehearsal room, waiting for the rest of the company.

The play is Guillermo Calderón’s “Neva,” and it is set on Bloody Sunday, 1905, the day scores of peacefully protesting workers were massacred by government forces on their way to the city’s Winter Palace, where they’d sought to deliver a message to the czar. Only two of Olga’s colleagues arrive at rehearsal that afternoon: an actor, Aleko, and an actress, Masha. In the darkened room, the three of them attend to their craft, insulated from the violence unfolding in the streets.

I was looking forward to it, to the insights it would give. There were some startling moments, when the characters played out little dramas which seemed "real" only to disclose to one another that they had been acting, but overall I was disappointed. It seemed to be very self-absorbed on the author's part. He's reflecting, as a man of the theater, on the place of theater in the troubles of the real world; but ultimately the reflection seems pointless. The post-opening review, which is headlined "'Neva' an overwrought, overwritten drama," pretty well tells how I felt about it.

Thursday's play was the classic "A Raisin in the Sun," about a post-WWII black family in Southside Chicago hoping to improve their condition. I was much happier with that one. Once more, the Globe's review captures much of how I feel about it. The picture with the review shows the "silent figure" whom the reviewer mentions. He's the one in the background. Since there's no risk now of spoiling anything (the production has closed), I'll say it's Big Walter, the recently deceased husband and father of the main characters. He never speaks, and no one sees him, but putting him on stage makes his son's speech about the family's heritage and pride that much more meaningful.

Then on Friday, instead of going to the concert and social evening at the Harvard Musical Association, I began a spiritual retreat which ran through Sunday morning. It was for men, and it was conducted by a Xaverian brother. Unlike the previous retreats I went on — eight days, with an individual director for each retreatant and a focus on the individual — this one consisted of five hour-long talks to the group by the director. His topic was the Virgin Mary, and he began by describing what life would have been like for her as an ordinary woman from a very small town in 1st Century Israel. Then he went through various events in the scriptures — annunciation, birth of Jesus, Jesus lost in the Temple, miracle of wine at the wedding in Cana, crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus — giving insight into how it would have been for her and suggesting how she dealt with things could serve as a model for people today. One particularly striking part was when he analyzed the "Magnificat"(Luke 1:46-55)  as a revolutionary song — particularly verses 51-53:

He has shown the strength of his arm, he has scattered the proud in their conceit.

He has cast down the mighty from their thrones, and has lifted up the lowly.

He has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he has sent away empty.

So, it wasn't nearly so introspective as my two earlier retreats, but it did give some food for thought.

Now I'm getting caught up. This week won't have so much evening activity, just the HMA on Friday (unless I do something spur-of-the-moment), so I should have time for another installment on the Theology of the Body.

St. Valentine's Day — 2013

The days leading up to February 14 were a time of doing some shoveling of the sidewalk in front of my house. I took it easy and did the job in three stages over three days, spending no more than 45 minutes per day at a relaxed pace. (I really don't want to have a heart attack just yet.) Then today, I did the 10 feet from my property line to my neighbor's driveway.

Here are pics (click to enlarge) from before

Looking from the intersection toward the small section to be shoveled

and after

Looking back from the neighbor's driveway

Looking from the intersection (same as in first pic)

Wednesday was the much-anticipated Ash Wednesday, and I helped give out ashes at the four services in my parish. (Had to have an early dinner on Tuesday, so I wouldn't be eating meat on Wednesday.)

Come Thursday, I was planning to attend a concert at the Harvard Musical Association, and at noon I made a reservation online for a table for one at Scollay Square. (BTW, there are pics on their home page that give some idea of what it looks like.) Through the day, I was happily tweeting and commenting on people's blogs about how I'd be dining alone on St. Valentine's Day, and it didn't bother me at all. And I was right. I had a fine time — nothing spectacular at the restaurant. The waiter I call Tommy Kirk was at the hostess's desk when I walked in and I greeted them with a cheery "Happy St. Valentine's Day." "Tommy" hadn't been there the last two Friday I was, so I was especially happy to see that he still worked at the place, and I hoped he'd be my waiter. No such luck. Natalia was my waitress. She's very good — pleasant and pretty and efficient — she's just not a good-looking guy.

The whole time I was there, a table nearby was vacant, so I wasn't keeping a couple away. Among the patrons who arrived while I was having dinner (and were seated nearby) were two pairs of men. One pair were probably in their sixties, the other in their twenties. There were no PDA's, so the thought that they were gay is speculation on my part, but it's at least possible. All the other couples I saw were male-female.

The restaurant had a dinner-for-two special, a prix-fixe which allowed two choices from appetizers, two from entrees, and two from desserts. When I asked about specials, Natalia brought the special menu and said I could choose from that too. I chose a flatiron steak, and it was good.

Then, on to the concert, but …

just before leaving for Boston I checked an unopened e-mail from the HMA to see what they'd be playing (three Beethoven string quartets) and there, in red letters, was an announcement that attendance would be by reservation only. I tried to call and see if there was still room, but got voice mail. I couldn't wait for an answer, since I needed to leave to get to my restaurant reservation. So I checked the Boston Symphony calendar and found that they'd be playing things I wouldn't mind hearing. I finished dinner in time to get to Symphony Hall at about 7:40 andwas able to get a ticket (with a subscriber discount). So I had an enjoyable evening at Symphony Hall. I'd mention the fact that I also saw young guys in pairs there, but there are always young guys in pairs at Symphony Hall. I'd have enjoyed the post-concert supper at the HMA — sausages, red cabbage, and beer — but no complaints about the evening I did have.

Christmas — Days 7-12 and Beyond

There's not much to report about days 7-12 of Christmas. We had lobster on New Year's Eve and beef tenderloin on New Year's Day. A $9 bottle of Spanish bubbly accompanied the steak to toast the new year.

I saw the movie "Flight" at the Cabot Street Cinema. It stars Denzel Washington as the alcoholic, cocaine-sniffing pilot who wile drunk manages to pull a plane out of an uncontrolled dive and crash land it with only six lives lost when it seemed that all aboard would be killed. The NTSB investigates. Good movie. Spoiler: he ends up in prison after he admits to being drunk. IMO, if flying drunk is a crime, he deserved it, but if it's for the deaths, he didn't since he saved 90 others who would also have died.

Friday I went to a recital at the Harvard Musical Association. Each year they have a competition for outstanding high school age musicians and the winner gives a recital at the association's "clubhouse." This year there were two winners, a cellist and a fl(a)utist, both of Korean extraction. They both performed very well. I had dinner at Scollay Square beforehand. Wendy the waitress was back — the one who is familiar with classical music. That was nice.

Even though it's after the 12 days, the Catholic Church  is still celebrating Christmas until Sunday. We extend it until the Sunday which falls on January 7-13. (Any excuse for a party: Catholics have all the fun!) So I decided to have some oysters. When my uncle was alive, he always wanted scallopped oysters on Christmas, but I wasn't able to squeeze them in when my brother, who won't eat them, was here. I got a pint and tried to fry half of them in olive oil, lamb fat, and butter on Wednesday. Unfortunately, the coating didn't stay on them and crisp up. Instead it blended with the fat to make a sort of gravy. It tasted okay, but it wasn't what I had been hoping for. And it's a wonder I didn't suffer a myocardial infarction from ingesting the lamb fat. Today, I was more successful with oyster stew. A tablespoon of butter, tablespoon of flour, 1/3 cup of water, 1 cup of milk, 14 oysters, 1/3 cup oyster liquor, 1/3 cup heavy cream in that order on the stovetop. Along the way I added pinches of nutmeg, chervil, pepper, mild paprika, celery seed, onion salt and sea salt. Half was lunch today, and half will be  lunch tomorrow. It's good, though I say it myself.

This has turned into a musical week for me. Wednesday evening I went to the HD movie theater retransmission of "Un Ballo in Maschera" from the Metropolitan Opera. It's got great music, and it was very well sung. Thursday evening, the Boston Symphony was back after their Christmas break. I'll write a bit about that on my music blog when I get around to it. And tonight there's another performance at the HMA — grownups this time, a string quartet. If I'm lucky "Tommy Kirk" will be my waiter at Scollay Square.

An Update — 2012/12/19

Not too much worth writing home about, but here's a bit.

A Night at the Cinema.  Tuesday of last week I went to the Cabot Street Cinema to see the 2011 movie "Wuthering Heights." I've never read the book, but I knew that it had to do with the doomed romance of Cathy and Heathcliff. What a shock the movie was! It was well made, but the central characters were awful people. (BTW, for those of you familiar with the book, the movie only covers the first generation. It stops with Heathcliff's gaining ownership of Wuthering Heights, and does not show the subsequent lives of his and Cathy's and Hindley's children.) The movie clearly depicts Hindley's brutality, Heathcliff's violence and Cathy's bad treatment of Heathcliff as well as her husband, Edgar. They're all a thoroughly unlikable lot. It is the Lintons' great misfortune to have come into contact with any of them, much worse for them that Edgar marries Cathy and Isabella marries Heathcliff. I found the brutality, the semi-squalid condition of the Earnshaw house, and the bleakness of the countryside quite unappealing, however true to the novel they may have been.


Christmas.  My brother and I are invited to our aunt's for Christmas dinner. That should be pleasant. She says that this year she will not cook a turkey — which probably makes this the first Christmas of my life when turkey was not Christmas dinner, although I can't be absolutely sure of the first three or four years of my life. I suppose I could get a bit of turkey somewhere and have it for supper and pretend it was the real dinner, with the banquet merely lunch — as if there were some cosmic importance to my keeping the sequence of turkey dinners at Christmas unbroken. But nah. I'm getting a little bit flexible in my old age, and if it will be lamb or what have you for Christmas dinner, that's okay — as long as it isn't bean sprouts and tofu. And I'm not going to buy a turkey and cook it on Sunday or Wednesday: too much leftovers.

I've been thinking a bit about what I will have, expecting my brother to be here from Saturday night (when we'll go to a party) through New Year's Day. Today I bought a small chicken, which will probably be Sunday dinner and possibly yield enough leftovers for one lunch. I've been thinking of doing my shrimp thing for Christmas eve. I also have to cook meatloaves for the soup kitchen that day. I could possibly make an extra one for us to have. It would furnish at least two dinners. Maybe I could have a roast of beef — or pot roast or braised beef — for Wednesday (with leftovers one or two days). Maybe salmon on Friday, or shrimp if we didn't have it on Monday. The usual steak and baked potato on Saturday? It would be fun to celebrate New Year's Eve with lobster. If I can find a duck anywhere, that would be good for New Year's Day. That leaves Sunday — restaurant perhaps. I'm sure we'll get by somehow.

I've sent off the gifts to my brother, sister-in-law, and nephew, and I know basically what I'll be getting for my brother. Yikes! I haven't sent cards to my friends in Rothenburg. Now they'll never get there before Christmas.

It will be a busy time at the church, with me helping out here and there.

I still haven't put the candles in the windows. Maybe I will as soon as I finish this post. I've also got a few other decorations to display.


Other Stuff.  The car door handle has been repaired.

We had a prayer service this evening for the victims and mourners from the school shooting in Connecticut.

I posted on my music blog about the concerts I recently attended. Before the one at HMA I had dinner at the Scollay Square — got the same waiter as last time. Dang!

Germany/France — July 25, 2012

 St. Peter's Gate, part of medieval fortifications — on the way from the hotel to St. Rupert's church

Northeast corner of Roman fortifications of  Castra Regina seen from medieval fortifications, near hotel (this picture taken on the morning of July 26)

On Wednesday, July 25, I got moving in time to get to the 9:00 Mass at St. Rupert's church. It is the parish church adjacent to St. Emmeram's basilica. After that, I was basically free until 8:00 p.m., the time of my s-i-l's concert. I began by buying tickets for a morning German-language walking tour of the old city (much of which I had seen on my stroll the previous day) and an afternoon English-language tour of the Old City Hall.

Although there was a lot in the talk by the guide of the morning tour which I did not understand, I could understand when she was talking about things I already knew something about, and I probably picked up a bit of new information as well.

 Medieval patrician house in the Haidplatz, west of old city hall. The rich Regensburgers (patricians – Patrizier) adopted the Italian custom of building towers to show off their wealth, as well as to catch the breezes.

 Part of the Arch Hotel on the Haidplatz. They stole my cousin's name.

 Part of the gateway to the Stone Bridge (with the street leading down to it)

 The top of the old tower adjacent to the north transept of the cathedral, where the organ is

 Another patrician house and tower

 Plaque commemorating Oskar Schindler's living in Regensburg for 4 1/2 years after the war. It's on one of the houses where he lived

A house where Oskar Schindler lived, with plaque attached

 After the tour, I strolled around a bit more on my own and had lunch at the Wurstkuchl, which bills itself as the oldest bratwurst shop in the world. It is said to have served laborers working on the Stone Bridge across the Danube. As had happened at the Bischofshof the previous evening, some people came to occupy the adjacent seats. They were American tourists on a Danube cruise, and it was nice to chat with them.

After lunch, I strolled around some more until it was time for the tour of the Old City Hall.

 A couple of pics of the Old City Hall. The building at the right was the original city hall; the one at the left was originally built to house a dance hall on the second floor. The section in between was added for convenience after the city acquired the dance hall. 

The "Perpetual Diet" (or Perpetual Assembly) of the Holy Roman Empire met in the former dance hall.

Two pics of the assembly room of the perpetual diet (and a couple of my fingertips). Above, the Electors' door. Below, the imperial dais: the emperor's commissioner presided, with the three sacred electors* on one side of him and the secular† on the other.

* The Archbishops of Mainz, Trier, and Cologne

† The King of Bohemia, the Count Palatine, the Margrave of Brandenburg, and the Duke of Saxony (but with variations and additions from time to time, as explained in the article I linked)

 I had an early dinner at the Wiessbräuhaus, which was licensed in 1620 and brews their own beer.

 Small fountain at one end of the street where the Weissbräuhaus is located

 Looking away from the restaurant in the opposite direction (west)

Sundial and calendar on southern side of the cathedral (date at the bottom is 1487)

 Then it was more strolling around until it was time for the concert.

The organ in the cathedral (and here and here) occupies a portion of the wall of the north transept.

 This section is free of windows because it was originally part of a tower of the older cathedral. (A picture in yesterday's post shows a bit of that tower from the outside.) Because it is even older than the rest of the cathedral, the organ builder was not allowed to drill into the wall to support the instrument. Instead, it is suspended on four large cables from the ceiling, and it accessible only by

 a one-person elevator which is raised and lowered by cables. (Photo shows the elevator going up with my nephew in it. In the upper right of the photo are the bottoms of a few organ pipes.)  A mechanism at console level actually draws it into the organ to give access to the console.

Well, the concert was amazing. My s-i-l began by playing three pieces by Bach. Then she switched to post-WWII Japanese composers — four pieces by three composers. Two of the pieces incorporate the melodies of some traditional Buddhist chants, and one of those also includes the tune of the Gregorian chant "Dies Iræ." My sister-in-law dedicated that piece to the victims of the 2011 earthquake and tsunami in Japan. I had heard the pieces with chant melodies before, but not knowing the traditional Buddhist chants, I could not recognize when they were played on the organ. But for this performance, she had about 7 Buddhist monks come from Japan to chant the chants in their place, while she played the rest. So the monks, dressed mostly in green, lined up across the front when it was time for the pieces they would be part of, took books from their sleeves, and chanted where it was part of the compositions.

We were told that the audience in the cathedral was larger than average for the series of Wednesday evening performances, and at the end they gave a very prolonged ovation. All in all, I'd say it was a triumph.

 Afterwards we (s-i-l, nephew, monks, cathedral organist, photographer, friends of my s-i-l, etc., and I) went across the courtyard to the Bischofshof for a supper. My nephew and I had the Tellersulz (slices of beef in a jellied broth from beef bones, which one of my table companions had enjoyed the previous evening), and on my recommendation another person had the veal dish I had enjoyed the night before. I noticed that a lot of Wiener Schnitzel went to the adjoining table where the monks were.

On the way over from the cathedral, I was able to converse with the photographer, who was a pleasant young man who had visited Canada and the U.S.. I'd have liked to continue the conversation, but we got separated when people took seats in the "Bürgerzimmer" of the restaurant, which was done in traditional style.

It was certainly a very enjoyable day in historic Regensburg.

I recommend clicking on pictures to enlarge them for better detail.

Life Is Beautiful (At least It Was Wednesday Evening)

On Wednesday, it started snowing where I live. I wanted to go to Boston to hear a talk by John Harbison on Bach's "St. Matthew Passion." (I'm going to hear a performance of the work on April 1.) If I get around to it, I might write something about the talk on my music blog. After the talk, which was from 5:00 to about 6:00, I planned to stay in Boston and attend a concert at 8:00 at the Harvard Musical Association.

Because it was snowing rather than raining, I decided not to take an umbrella. You can just brush the snow off when you get where you're going. The snow gradually changed to rain, and it was fairly windy (but not quite enough to blow my hat off). I had a 5-10 minute walk from the subway to the lecture hall, and another back. From the subway to the restaurant was no more than five minutes. Then a good 10 minutes from the restaurant to the HMA. When I got there, the house was dark. It was then that I checked the announcement and found that the concert is next Wednesday. So another ten minute walk back to the subway.

Usually when it's snowing, I walk with my head down and slightly hunched over. But yesterday, I walked fully upright, with my head held high, getting the snow and rain full in my face, and enjoying it.

I've blogged before about feeling good as I walked on a warm fall evening. This time there weren't a lot of other people passing by, but it occurred to me that I was about as joyful to be there as I had been on the earlier occasion. Creation is good, and God is good, and life is beautiful (if unpleasant sometimes).

My Barber Puts Me to Shame — and Other Stuff

My Barber. Maybe the first part of the title is elitist, but it's what I was thinking as I walked home from the barber shop on Thursday. He started me off with a little joke which it took me a minute to got. I usually wait two or three months between haircuts, so my hair was getting pretty long. He said I needed a haircut or a violin.

While he cut my hair we started blandly by talking about the weather. When I mentioned the snow in Rome, that led to some conversation about place in Italy we'd like to visit. He said he had never got to Rome: his only time in Italy was many years ago when he was in the Navy and his ship went to Naples. But he had liked it when they went to Holland, and he had a week in Amsterdam. At that point I was thinking sailor+Amsterdam=visits to prostitutes. But before I could come up with a bland comment or question, he said he had loved visiting the Rijksmuseum and being able to stand in front of "The Night Watch."

That led me to ask if he had been to the exhibition of Dutch paintings at the Peabody Essex Museum. Well, he had been six times! (I went twice.) After he had seen the whole exhibit, he went back and looked more carefully at some of the specific paintings. So I mentioned that I had seen a movie at Cabot Street Cinema. "The Mill and the Cross?" he asked. He gets their tabloid fliers and wishes he could get there more often, but the performance schedule is difficult for him. OTOH, he has an opportunity to buy a DVD of the movies for $25. We talked about it for a bit. He also told me that he was taking a course in art appreciation, and I said I thought the movie would fit in with it very well, and he said my enthusiasm for it was inclining him to buy it.

Next he mentioned that he often spent a half hour on the art course before he came to work. This called The Teaching Company to mind, and, sure enough, they produced the course. He has maybe six of the courses, and he really likes them. (I've bought a lot of their courses, but, unlike him, I haven't taken the time to watch most of them. It's like my unread books.)

Edited to add: At some point the discussion turned to music. He was of the opinion that Bach is the greatest of the Baroque composers. I commented that when I was a boy, I knew that my dad liked Bach, but I didn't care for Bach that much. While I didn't want to say exactly that Bach is an acquired taste, the fact is that at some point something clicked, and I could really appreciate Bach. Similarly, in the 1980's I could agree with a colleague at work that the Bach cantatas played every Sunday morning on WGBH were "lugubrious" at some point something clicked, and now I appreciate them.

Finally we turned to language study. It's fascinating for him watching his 2-3 year old granddaughter learn English, and he thinks immersion is the best way to learn a language. He has got to a point with his German that he almost never needs a dictionary when he reads the German "Readers' Digest." (I dabble in languages, and maybe have gotten beyond beginner stage with German, but I've never achieved that degree of proficiency since I studied French and Latin in school.)

As I paid, he commented that he had really enjoyed talking with me — he could never have such a conversation with most customers. As I reflected on it, I realized that he was pursuing his interests much more deeply than I do, and, without a university degree, is a truly educated man.


Other Stuff.  I went to three musical events in Boston this week: an opera on Wednesday, a symphony concert on Thursday, and a chamber music concert and social evening at the Harvard Musical Association on Friday.

Continuation: The opera was interesting, and I wish I had a chance to go back and hear it again to pick up on details I think I missed first time around. The symphony was good, but unexciting. See my music blog for a bit more about the symphony concert.

Friday evening I went to Scollay Square. Natalia was my waitress, and she did a good job, but, unlike Wendy on my previous visit there, she showed no interest in my book or in having any real conversation. But after a while, three people arrived and sat at a table to my left: a middle aged man and woman, and a blond teenaged boy in a short-sleeved T shirt. At first I was sorry I hadn't sat somewhere where I could see him without turning my head, but eventually I decided it was a good thing, because I might have stared at him too obviously if I had had a direct view. We left at the same time, and I noticed that the boy had a skateboard.

The concert was an interesting one. The musicians were the Leipzig Quartet and the first half of the concert was an adaptation of something they have done in Germany based on Thomas Mann's novel Doctor Faustus. They perform pieces which they find somehow related to the main character of the novel, Adrian Leverkühn, a composer who sells his soul to the devil to become even greater than Beethoven. Between each piece they play, there is a reading of part of the dialogue between Leverkühn and the devil. The program notes explained that Mann intended this as an allegory about Germany under Hitler, which sold its soul to the devil for the sake of empire. I thought, based on the notes, that the book would be worth reading, but the conversation between the two was so wordy and abstract that it killed any interest in reading the book. (But too bad Mann hadn't had the foresight to write it in the 1920's, before Germany made the final pact with the devil, rather than in the 1940's, when it no longer could serve as a warning, but only as a lamentation.)

As I was on my way to Boston, I somehow came to think of the phrase, "soak an eye," and I realized that it fits the scene in "Casablanca" where Rick brushes aside Sam's reluctance to play "As Time Goes By." Rick tells Sam, "If she can stand it, soak an eye."*

* If I'm being too vague about this, just ask, and I'll be happy to explain. But just read it aloud, and it'll probably make sense.

Doings

Cinema  I went on Monday evening to the Cabot Street Cinema to watch "The Way," a movie about a man (played by Martin Sheen) who walks 800 km on the pilgrim way to Santiago de Compostela, along with three other characters he meets as he goes. It's part travelogue, part explanation of the pilgrimage, and part character development. I'm not sure what I think of it. Maybe I'll think some more. Meanwhile, if it comes your way, I recommend watching it.


This was my second time in that theater. The first time was also for a religion-themed movie set in Spain: "There Be Dragons," about St. Jose Maria Escrivá, mostly during the time of the Spanish civil war.


In a couple of weeks they'll be showing "Anonymous," which pushes the thesis that the works of Shakespeare were written by Edward de Vere, the Earl of Essex. I hope to get to see it. The idea that the author of the works of Shakespeare knew too much to have been the actor from Stratford has always made some sense to me.




Taxes  I just mailed my tax return for 2009 to the IRS. It was finished in draft by the deadline, May 11, 2010, but I got busy with other things and never made the final copy to send in. And since I'm owed a refund there was no urgency, since there would be no interest or penalty for late filing. But recently there has been a series of letters asking for the return. The latest threatened to assess me $9,411.30 in taxes, interest, and penalties on top of the $3,384.00 which had been withheld. The prospect of having to pay them $9,400 when in reality they owe me $1,186 got my attention. So I sent in the return to claim my deductions and adjustments.




Not Done  For the first time in several years, I decided to skip the Handel and Haydn Society's annual performance of Handel's "Messiah." I had a bit of a cold and so I decided not to go to Boston on Friday evening or Sunday afternoon. Instead, I took echinacea and stayed home both those times — which gave me the chance, as reported on my other blog, to listen for the third time in four days to John Harbison's fifth symphony.


I think it was the right decision, even though "Messiah" is the better work IMO. My cold is almost gone, and I should be able to go to Boston on Thursday to see the play "Captors," about Adolf Eichmann and the Mossad agents who have just captured him, as they try to get him to agree to go to Israel for trial.




Shades of Torchy and Setboyardee  Today is one of my two lottery days, so I went to the store where I usually get the tickets. The regular clerk was there. I think he's from India. Anyway, at the end of the usual transaction he wished me good luck and a good evening, smiling, and leaned slightly over the counter toward me. It actually felt, in that instant, as if he were leaning in to kiss me. Absurd, I suppose, and no doubt it says more about me than about him.

Doings

I know I'm way overdue to post some more Theology of the Body, but a report on Thanksgiving seems a bit more time-sensitive.

In a way, it was the end of an era: the first Thanksgiving since I was born when Thanksgiving dinner did not take place in Naturgesetz family property (grandparent's, parent's, uncle's, family vacation home, or my own). I might have missed one or two when I was in grad school or the monastery, but they've always taken place. This year, however, some friendly acquaintances invited my brother and me to join them and three (it turned out) others at their home, and we accepted.

Since we would also be attending an open house on Saturday evening and my brother would go back to Boston this morning (Monday), I decided it would be pointless to roast even the smallest turkey I could find. We would get at most two meals from it, and then I'd be left with a ton of leftovers. So we had baked stuffed haddock on Friday and broiled flank steak on Sunday. The only special cooking I did for the holiday was a frozen mince pie from the store. It's my brother's favorite kind, and he had it with cheddar cheese for desserts and breakfasts, and finished it off last night. I had a small slice for breakfast on Friday morning. I also had bought a frozen pumpkin pie for myself, but when the time came, I decided that with two main meals away from the house, I couldn't handle it right now, so it will stay in the freezer until Christmas.

Thanksgiving itself was very pleasant. The hosts are a man, originally from Texas and wife, originally from here, who are about my age. One guest was a Baptist missionary from Texas, now living in Ohio — about our age. Another was a thirtysomething man from Argentina, and the last was another thritysomething from around here. We talked mostly about languages (apparently Spanish favors long sentences like those from Melville I heard at Moby Dick a couple of weeks ago), but also about music, the lady's missionary work in Romania, and various other things. The meal was fairly traditional for New England, except for the green beans, the addition of pineapple to the sweet potato, and the pecan pie. It was, however, the first time I ever had meat stuffing in a turkey. It was ground beef and pork, with bread to keep it from getting hard, and sausage type spices. It was nearly black and very enjoyable. I had brought two bottles of red wine and two of white, and they were emptied or very nearly so. The pies were accompanied with vanilla ice cream.

Between the main course and dessert we were required by the hosts to take a walk. Fortunately it was warm enough that with coats we were comfortable walking around for the better part of an hour in the late afternoon. After dessert, the host and I stepped outside again to enjoy a cigar. He smokes maybe a half dozen or so per year, and I have one or two.

You can go to my music blog the learn about my afternoon at the symphony on Friday.

So, all in all, it was a good holiday and a good weekend.

Spider in My Bathroom; Other Stuff

Spider in My Bathroom.  A while back, maybe two weeks ago or a bit less, I noticed a spider in my bathroom. It was a type I have seen before. Usually they have been outdoors, and they build fairly large webs between a shrub and the house, or some such thing. They are two-colored: light brown and dark, with the colors forming stripes on their legs. They are usually fairly large, an inch or more from one foot to the opposite one.

I was surprised to see one indoors, and I hoped it would be able to get enough nourishment indoors, as I haven't seen many flying insects recently. At first I thought maybe I should capture it, using the glass and card trick, and put it outdoors where it would be in its natural habitat. But I also realize that most of my attempts to rescue spiders end badly, and I was afraid that too much of its web would be left behind. So I decided to let it be where it was.

The spider shifted from one corner to another of the room from day to day, mostly in the corner by the sink or in the corner over the shower head. But for several days now it has stayed in the shower corner. After a while, I decided that leaving the bathroom light on might help attract insects for it. Although I sometimes forget and turn it off as I leave, this may have something to do with the spider's setting up away from the fluorescent lights by the sink.

My other concern was whether taking a shower would cause a problem for the spider. Fortunately it builds its web just below the ceiling. Even so, it does move around a bit when the shower starts, but it stays with the web. So the humidity and maybe some fine spray provoke a reaction, but they don't seem to create a real problem, and there seems to be no danger of its getting drowned or otherwise harmed.

Other Stuff.  Tomorrow, that is Saturday, is my last time helping to run sailboat races for this year. The season will be essentially over after that. On Sunday my brother and I will go to Boston for the first concert of the season of the Handel and Haydn Society. I don't recall a year when one started the day after the other ended. Usually there is a week or two between the last race and the first concert. But I don't think I've gone to the H&H season opener before, and if I weren't doing that, I would have the usual hiatus between the two seasons.

I'll be going to the usual Boston Symphony and Harvard Musical Association concerts, as well as several H&H performances. Today, I finally got around to subscribing for the four operas which Boston Lyric Opera will be presenting. Sometime, I also want to decide which, if any, of the Opera Boston shows I'll go to.

You may recall that a year ago I went to a performance of "The Laramie Project," followed by the newly written "The Laramie Project: Ten Years Later." I blogged about it at the time. So far, I haven't decided which, if any, of the shows I'll go to this year which are being presented by the organization that brought "Laramie" to Boston, but I hope to find some to attend. Also, there is a favorably reviewed "Candide" being given next week. I'll see if I can find an evening to go to that, but it won't be easy— I already have evening events on my calendar for Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday. I'm also toying with the idea of going to the Friday opening night of the BSO. Apparently they're having trouble selling tickets, and they're offering a $50 discount to people who have subscriptions to later series.

And here's something you don't need to be around Boston for. The Metropolitan Opera season is also about to begin, and with it their occasional live HD transmissions to movie theaters around the world. I'm definitely hoping to get to the first one, "Anna Bolena" (Anne Boleyn) by Donizetti, the guy who gave us the mad scene in "Lucia di Lammermoor" (along with the rest of the opera). There are several others later in the season that I'd also like to hear — most of  them, actually, but some more than others. Gay guys are "supposed to" like opera, so, if you haven't already gotten hooked, why not check out the schedule and try a few. There are different styles of music represented, and if you don't like some, you might enjoy others.

Music Post

Usually I put stuff having to do with music on my music blog. But this is so good, IMO, that I can't refrain from giving a link to it here.

Another Restaurant Experience

I had to trade my Thursday evening Boston Symphony ticket for Friday afternoon because there was a meeting on Thursday of the Task Force Against Discrimination. I already had a ticket for Opera Boston's production of Fidelio for Friday evening. The symphony concert was due to get out shortly before 4:00 and the opera to start at 7:30, with a preview talk at 6:30. It didn't seem to make a lot of sense to dash home and dash back into Boston, so I made a reservation for 5:00 at a fairly new place called Petit Robert Central.

So what to do in the hour between the end of the concert and my dinner reservation? Well it so happens that the restaurant is in the building across the street from the Franciscans' shrine where I used to go to Mass when I worked in Boston. So I decided to drop in there and pray for a while. They have priests hearing confessions (Sacrament of Reconciliation, for you young'uns) all day, and at some point it dawned on me that I could avail myself of the opportunity to be shriven (be absolved of my sins). So that's what I did. As always, the priest was very kind and encouraging. (In 60 years of going to confession, I don't think I've ever had a priest yell at me.) He basically said I should remember and think about all the good things I have been doing, the things that make God very happy with me.

On to the restaurant. I got there about five minutes before 5:00. There were a few people in the bar area and maybe one couple in the dining area. The reason I chose this restaurant is that their menu includes a number of items you don't find very often, especially on the dinner portion. Tripe, tongues, and sweetbreads are all things I like, but rarely find. The waiter said I was getting the last of the sweetbreads, and it seems that they've just published a new menu which doesn't have the lamb tongues on it either.

As I was waiting for my drink, I noticed a tall guy delivering food to a nearby table, and I wished I had him for a waiter. Well, it turns out they all cooperate on bringing things to the table, and he served my appetizer and main course.

Another person noticed the cover picture on the book I was reading, touching the holy, by Robert Wicks. It shows a pair of hands holding three rounded rocks, one on top of the other. (You can see the picture if you go to amazon.com and search for the title.) It reminded her of something she had seen on a visit to the Peace Pagoda. People would balance rocks on top of each other, and apparently the more you could balance, the more peaceful your soul (or something similar). She had a photo that she showed me. She wanted to know about the book, and I told her the title and author, which she wrote down, and I gave a very brief description of what the book is about. For all his interest in knowing what I was reading, I don't think Seth the Waiter at Scollay Square was ever that interested in any of my books.

When I had paid the check and stood up to leave the tall busboy passed by (perfectly timed) and wished me a good evening. As I thought about it later I was reminded of the scene in "Maurice" where Alec Scudder, the assistant gamekeeper, passes the gentlemen out for an evening stroll on the estate and says, "Good night, sir" to Maurice, whom he had seen for the first time earlier that day. No doubt I'm reading way too much into the encounter.

If you want to hear about the musical performances you can go to this post on my music blog.

Boston Symphony

For all you music lovers who follow this blog, I just wanted to call your attention to the post on my music blog about the opportunity to hear BSO's summer concerts at Tanglewood each weeken from now through the end of August.

Impulse Purchase

     Tonight I went into Boston on pretty much the spur of the moment. This noon I happened to hear an interview with the Ricardo Chailly, the conductor of the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra, on the radio. They were in town to give a concert this evening. The program was to be all Beethoven, including one of my favorites, the "Emperor" Piano Concerto. So I went on line this afternoon and bought a ticket.

     The performance of the concerto was unspectacular, but the music itself is so good that it was worth hearing anyway. And after several "curtain calls" the pianist gave an encore, which I did not recognize, but it sounded like something Beethoven could have written. After intermission, the orchestra played Beethoven's Seventh Symphony. It ends loud and fast, so it is pretty much a "standing O" producing machine, and it didn't fail this time. And after prolonged applause, the orchestra gave an encore. Beethoven's Overture to "The Creatures of Prometheus." I thought it was their best playing of the evening.

     I had thought that there might be an encore after the concerto, because the program was kind of short. But the second encore, at the end of the evening was a real surprise. Boston Symphony Orchestra concerts almost never have encores — which is probably a good thing since without any they last about as long as tonight's did with the encores.

     It has been stormy today, and on my way home I came across work crews in three different locations clearing away fallen tree branches in the road.

New Blog

I've posted a bit about musical events here, but I've decided that those things don't actually fit the basic purpose of this blog, so I've created a new one — Naturgesetz: Music Lover. So far, all I've posted is some introductory material. But it includes links to the stations that stream programs I like. And as time goes on, I expect to use it to call your attention to upcoming broadcasts/streams of interest, especially of concerts I attend.

You'll find it at www.naturgesetz-music.blogspot.com