Light of Truth / Truth of Light – Iolanta & Bluebeard’s Castle

The weekend’s high culture was not limited to the local ballet. Saturday morning found Harper’s Other Dad and I at our local multiplex for the Met’s “Live in HD” simulcast of a double bill of one-act operas; Tchaikovsky’s Iolanta paired with Bartok’s Bluebeard’s Castle. I’ve read a number of articles commenting on the unlikely pairing of these two operas. They are stylistically different to be sure. But I found them well suited to each other. The action of both pieces centers around the female lead’s (I am reluctant to call Bartok’s ‘Judith’ a heroine.) relationship to light in its literal and metaphorical sense. The director of both operas, Mariusz Trelinski, whose resume lists more credits as a filmmaker than an opera director, ties the two pieces together visually. In an interview shown in the intermission after Iolanta and before Bluebeard’s Castle, Trelinski observes that the two plots could be the stories of a woman at different points in her life. After seeing the second piece, I am not sure I see that. I see two different women whose lives are determined, albeit in very different ways, by their experience of the transition from darkness to light. One is liberated, the other destroyed.

Tchaikovsky’s Iolanta, first performed in 1892 (it had its premier on the same night as Tchaikovsky’s ballet, The Nutcracker), is a traditional fairy tale. The title character, a blind princess has been shut away in a cottage deep in the woods by her father. He wants to protect her from knowledge of her blindness and she is unaware that others experience the world differently. She believes eyes serve no purpose aside from the shedding of tears. She lives in the care of servants and is unaware that her relationship with them is substantially different than their relationship with her. A doctor tells Iolanta’s father he may be able to restore her sight but doing so requires she be made aware of her blindness. She must have the will to change. The father refuses. As the story progresses, she meets and falls in love with a stranger, a visitor to her forest. Through him she becomes aware of her blindness but, inspired by her love, she has the will necessary change and regain her sight.

Trelinksi uses the set and pre-recorded visuals to reinforce the darkness of Iolanta’s life. Some of the trees in her forest hover with exposed roots and images of roots closing in on the cottage from all directors give the impression she is living underground, where no light can reach her. The cottage set is used to wonderful effect as well. It is a white cube open at the top and on three sides. The fourth side is a realistic wall with a door.

On one level the cube is her cottage. It separates her from the forest. People enter and leave it through the door. One another level it represents ignorance; her ignorance of her blindness, and her father’s ignorance in sheltering her. As light is shone on their ignorance, as the become enlightened, they interact with others outside the cube through the invisible walls. As they gain knowledge or reach any form of epiphany, the step out of the cube by passing through the absent walls. On a third level, the cube seems to represent Iolanta’s blindness itself. After she gains awareness and has stepped outside the cube, she reenters it to confront her blindness. She emerges again with her sight restored. In the end she regains her sight, her father grants her permission to marry the man she loves and they look forward to their ‘happily ever after’.

Bartok’s Bluebeard’s Castle, written in 1911 and first performed in 1918, is another kind of fairy tale. Darkly brooding and fraught with psychological and psychosexual overtones, there is no small irony that the live broadcast was the same weekend that the film adaptation of 50 Shades of Grey opened nationally. This opera is ’50 Shades of Grey’… with an atonal score.

Bluebeard, reputed to have killed his previous wives, brings his new bride, Judith, home to his castle. Judith has heard the rumors but her love for Bluebeard is so obsessive she chooses not to believe them. The castle contains 7 doors. Judith want all the doors opened to bring light into the dark and forbidding castle. Bluebeard opposes this. As each door is opened, illuminating what lies beyond, Judith is confronted by the increasing horror of her new life and her husband’s past. Yet each time she is given the option of stopping or retreating, she chooses to open the next door. Ultimately, all the doors are opened and the light of day exposes all the castle’s secrets. There is ‘no happily ever after’ on the horizon.

Bartok’s score is spare and atonal but not minimalist. The orchestrations are simple. There are many moments of silence for both the orchestra and the singers. The pace is, be design, almost excruciatingly slow. The actor’s movements are stylized with Bluebeard, at times moving in slow motion.

Bluebeard’s Castle is not as accessible as Iolanta. I found it more intellectually interesting but far less emotionally engaging. I don’t think I would want to see it performed without a companion piece. That said, performed together, I think it is a great contrast to Iolanta.

 

Napoli

Golfo & Teresina in the blue grotto.

Valentine’s Day weekend 2015 will be remembered as my ‘Napoli weekend’. I wish I could say I spent a romantic weekend in Italy. Sadly, that is not the case. It is, however, the weekend I saw August Bournonville’s ballet Napoli, or The Fisherman and his Bride for the first time. Actually it is the weekend I saw it for the first, second, third and fourth times. I had tickets for Friday evening’s performance. Then I received an “SOS” message from the Symphony Hall volunteer coordinator saying they were in desperate need of ushers for the Saturday and Sunday performances. Luckily, I enjoyed it on Friday so seeing it again (and again and again) is not as burdensome as it might otherwise have been.

My BFF, Wikipedia, tells me August Bournonville (1805 – 1879) was a Danish choreographer who initiated a unique style in ballet known as the “Bournonville School” which was inspired by 19th century French dance techniques. From 1830 to 1848 he was choreographer for the Royal Danish Ballet, for which he created more than 50 ballets known for their exuberance, lightness and beauty. Only a limited number of these works have survived. His best-known ballets are La Sylphide, Napoli, Le Conservatoire, The Kermesse in Bruges, and A Folk Tale.

First performed in 1842, Napoli is a popular ballet in Denmark but had never been performed in the United States before Ballet Arizona’s current production. Ib Anderson, the Danish-born Artistic Director of BalletAZ had done the ballet with the Royal Danish Ballet, first as a student and later as a principal dancer in the company.

Set in three acts, the story is a simple one, The beautiful Teresina falls in love with a poor fisherman, Gennaro. While out in his boat, they encounter a storm. He is brought back to Naples unconscious but she is lost at sea. Everyone assumes she has drowned. Happily, though unbeknownst to anyone in Naples, she did not drown but, instead, washed ashore in a mysterious blue grotto. The grotto is an enchanted place ruled by Golfo, his minions, and a harem of Naiads (Sea Fairies). Golfo turns Teresina into a Naiad and she forgets all about poor Gennaro.

Back in Naples, Gennaro grieves the loss of his beloved until a priest gives him a pendant adorned by a picture of the Blessed Virgin Mary (BVM). At the priest’s suggestion, Gennaro sets back out to sea armed with the magical jewelry in search of his lost love.

* * * Spoiler Alert * * *

Choreographer Bournonville

Gennaro finds his way to the blue grotto. At first, Teresina does not recognize him, being all Naiad-ish now, but he jogs her memory with the help of the BVM pendant. Golfo and his minions rough up Gennaro in an effort to stop him from leaving with Teresina but Gennaro scares them off with his BVM icon. They send them both on their way, back to Naples, with some really cool undersea jewelry as a souvenir. Gennaro and Teresina return home to Naples where they marry and everyone (and I do mean EVERYONE!) dances at the reception.

The score, with music by Edvard Helsted, Holger Simon Paulli, and Niels W. Gade is delightful, if not particularly dramatic. BFF Wikipedia notes the Latin hymn “O Santissima” is used in Act II to underscore the power of Christianity over Golfo’s demonry. O Santissima is an old Sicilian hymn but the melody was familiar to me as the German Christmas carol “O du fröhliche”.

On the whole, I enjoyed Napoli.  The sets and costumes are lavish. The dancing in Naples, especially in Act III, is very much in the style of folk dancing. It is high energy, fast-paced, and athletically executed. The blue grotto (Act II) is beautiful, more in the style I think of as “ballet” and includes some nifty effects when Teresina turns into a Naiad and back again before our eyes.

There were a couple of elements that disturbed me. Performed in three acts with two intermissions, it has a running time of about 2.5 hours. This is long for ballet. Much of the time in Act I, and, to a lesser degree, in Act II is spent with exposition with a resulting reduction in the time they actually dance. The exposition is certainly needed given the surreal nature of the story. Act III has a lot of wonderful dance but, and I admit this is a pet peeve of mine in any form of the performing arts, Act III is the longest. I would have enjoyed the ballet more had they danced a little more in Act I and cut about 10 minutes from Act III. Of course, Napoli has been performed as it was presented for more than 150 years so others must like it as written.

Simple Dreams

Linda Ronstadt’s 2013 book, Simple Dreams is subtitled; “A Musical Memoir“. And so it is. While the book covers her life beginning with her preschool days in Tucson, it is decidedly not an autobiography. It is all about the music. Her musical influences, the extraordinary journey her career became, her unparalleled successes and her infrequent, but very-public, failures; it’s all there.

For fans of Ronstadt or the bluegrass/folk-influenced music of the 1970’s that came to be called the “California rock”, this book is a delightful read. If you are not a fan but want a glimpse into the career of one the most successful pop singers of the 20th century, it’s still probably a good read. I can’t say. I am definitely in the former camp.

My first memory of hearing Ronstadt is still vivid, despite having been more than 45 years ago. I was 13 years old. We were moving, yet again, and I was unpacking in the new apartment. The AM radio DJ introduced a song called “Different Drum” by “Linda & the Stone Poneys”. At that time, I didn’t have the knowledge to articulate what it was, exactly, but there was something about her voice I connected with immediately.

I’ve had the pleasure of seeing her, in person, three times. The first was in 1977 at an outdoor concert venue in Wisconsin. Coincidentally, she was promoting the album “Simple Dreams“. The title song of that album, written by J.D. Souther, is the source of her memoir’s title. She appeared on-stage wearing a cub scout uniform.

1970’s

The next time I saw her was 6-7 years later. She was touring to promote her “What’s New” her first album of standards from the Great American Songbook recorded with Nelson Riddle and a full orchestra. That time she was wearing a vintage prom dress.

The last time was a few months ago in 2014. It was a wonderful evening in an intimate setting, the patio of Phoenix’s Musical Instrument Museum (MIM). She talked, à la “Inside the Actor’s Studio” with John Boylan, her long-time friend, former producer, and one-time manager. Parkinson’s has left her a little unsteady on her feet and, as she puts it; “unable to sing a note”, but she talked about her career and her life in music.

That she was asked to write a book is not surprising. In a 50-year career that included 38 studio albums (plus 15 compilations) in 5-6 different musical genres, more than 100 millions records sold,  27 Grammy nominations with 10 awards, Broadway runs, a feature film, and decades of touring from small clubs to stadiums, she has led a life that would make entertaining reading. She declined previous book offers, however, because she knew the publishers wanted a tell-all autobiography. She had no interest in talking about the details of her life and, as she put it, “all my old boyfriends”. It was Boylan’s suggestion she write a book about her life in music that convinced her to do a book. It was a bestseller.

From a musical family, her influences were opera, folk, American standards, and traditional Mexican music. She lists among her most significant influences Lola Beltrane, Maria Callas, and Frank Sinatra. She’s said the only music she ever recorded was the kind she heard at home before the age of 10.

Her earliest recordings are clearly rooted in folk music but she would morph this into the California rock sound which made her famous. She moved to California while still in her teens and proceeded to meet the people who would become the Who’s Who of popular music for the next 20 years. Don Henley and Glenn Frey, later founding members of the Eagles, were in her back-up band after she left the Stone Poneys.

The 1980’s

At the height of her success as the queen of “Torchy Rock”, as she was called on her first cover of Time magazine, she decided to set aside her schedule of recording and touring to pursue other musical challenges. Her success and the nature of the music business had changed. She was now playing in stadiums and large venues, often with poor acoustics. The music had to be performed so loudly there was little room for nuance or interpretation. She wanted other opportunities. She starred in The Pirates of Penzance, first in Central Park, and then on Broadway, where she received a Tony nomination. She reprised her role in the film version. She would return to Broadway in a production of La Bohème which was a critical disaster. She admits she did not have the technical ability to sustain her voice for a role as demanding as ‘Mimi’. She shrugs it off. One learns more from failures than successes.

Intermittently, she would return to rock. She feels the 1989 album “Cry Like a Rainstorm Howl Like the Wind” is her best in that genre. In between, she recorded albums of American standards. Her record company feared her rock fans would reject style of music and they were largely correct. But she found entirely new fans for those records. The same was true of her Spanish-language recordings of mariachi and traditional Mexican songs. Again, they were different fans but they were legion. Her final recordings were of jazz and Cajun folk music with friends she’d wanted to work with; new challenges, new opportunities.

She was good to her word in writing a book that is not a ‘tell all.’ She takes about friends and collaborators but there is very little in the book that is critical. She mentions her father calling in England where she was filming “Pirates…” to tell her that her mother had died. She was very close to her father but mentions in the Epilogue only that he died in 1995.

1990’s

She talks about moving back to Tucson because she thought it was a better place to raise her children. She offers no details about the children, both are adopted though she does not say that in the book, or her decision to become a single mother in her 40’s. She is close to her siblings and extended family but only discusses them in the context of their musical careers and their influence on her own.

Her only references to her ” old boyfriends” relate directly to the musical work she was doing at the time. “I was living with J.D. Souther at that time and we were listening to ….”. “Jerry Brown, who was staying with me at my house in Malibu, answered the phone when Joe Papp called…..” “I was keeping steady company with Pete Hamil and he introduced me to the books of…”. Other high-profile relationships like Jim Carey or George Lucas, to whom she was engaged, are not mentioned at all.

Most telling of all, she never mentions Parkinson’s specifically. The disease caused her to lose muscle control of her vocal cords. In her conversation at the MIM, she talked about her voice. Voices change as singers age. She could get by with “screaming” for her rock material but not with her other music she was doing. She said she retired when she started to be embarrassed that people were paying money to see her when she could no longer sing well. She retired before the cause of her difficulty was diagnosed as Parkinson’s. None of that is in her memoir, however. The closest she comes to mentioning what must have been a traumatic transition in her life is when she recounts a friend commenting, late in her career, that he’d seen her perform “with a still-healthy voice but he’d never seen her happier”.

If one wants the gossip, there are biographies out there. Other people have written that story, accurately and otherwise. But in Simple Dreams all she wanted to write about was her music. It worked for me.

I could never choose a favorite recording but this song, written by Karla Bonoff, from her 1976 Hasten Down the Wind album will always make my top ten.

The Interview

The problem with freedom of expression is, if it’s going to be meaningful, it has to apply across the board. The same freedom that allows me to read the Bible allow others to read the Quran. The trade-off I must accept for the freedom to write a blog is every Teavangelical blowhard with a keyboard is allowed to fabricate whatever bat-poop crazy thing they want and have Fox News broadcast it as if it were both news and truth. One of the few areas of life where I believe in an unrestricted free market is the marketplace of ideas. One can’t yell “Fire!” in a crowded theater or incite others to commit crimes but, as general rule, censorship is bad. Book burning is bad. Denying people the right to see and hear and read and make up their own minds is bad. It is within that context I watched The Interview. 

The Interview is an action-comedy starring James Franco and Seth Rogen, co-written and co-directed by Rogen. The premise is a tabloid television host (Franco) is granted permission to travel to North Korea to broadcast a live interview with North Korean Supreme Leader Kim Jong-un. During the interview, the CIA wants the interviewer to assassinate Kim.

The film attracted much attention in December when its scheduled holiday released was disrupted by cyber attacks and threats of additional cyber attacks against its distributor, their corporate parent, and the cinema chains scheduled to show it. The threats came from a group the FBI believes has ties to the North Korea.

In June 2014, the North Korean government threatened “merciless” action against the United States if the film’s distributor went ahead with the film’s release. The distributor, reportedly, postponed the original October release to December to re-edit the film to make it less offensive to the North Korean government. After several major North American cinema chains canceled screenings, the theatrical release was cancelled by the distributor’s parent company. Instead, they released the film for online rental and purchase on December 24, followed by a limited release at select cinemas on December 25.

This is a movie I would almost certainly never have seen were it not for the controversy. I’m not a Rogen fan. My impression of The Interview from seeing the trailer is it would be juvenile at best, at worst, outright stupid. To be clear, I’m not offended by either juvenile or stupid. It is just not where I spend my entertainment dollar. Still, when I stumbled across it “On Demand” (and for only $2.99) I decided to see what all the hoopla was about. After seeing it in its entirety with an open mind I can offer the fully informed impression that it is juvenile and, at times, stupid. I might be able to overlook both of these if I could add that it was also funny. It’s not. And, at the risk of seeming unpatriotic, I can also understand why the North Koreans would find it offensive.

There is nothing particularly controversial about movies centered on assignation plots. They have been a staple of action films for decades. The fact that The Interview fancies itself a comedy makes it a little more unusual, but still not unheard of. It is not the assassination story line that is offensive. It’s the depiction of Kim Jong-un. At their most politically incorrect and outrageous, the cartoons of Charlie Hebdo are mild compared to this film’s representation of Kim. Should they have resorted to cyber terrorism to keep people from seeing it? Absolutely not. Should they have hoped good taste would keep people away? That would have been optimistic. Should they be offended? Probably. A film depicting this type of caricature of President Obama would offend me.

I firmly believe that people are not entitled to go through life without being offended. It’s another cost of those freedoms I wrote about earlier. We can choose how we spend our money and we can choose how we spend our time but, in the end, unless we live in a cult and stick our heads in the sand, we will all probably encounter things we find offensive.

As for the ‘market’ aspect of the marketplace of ideas, the most recent figures I could find indicate the movie has earned $40 million in digital rentals, making it Sony’s most successful digital release, and over $9 million in domestic box office. And a protest group has announced their intention to airdrop DVDs of The Interview over North Korea from hydrogen balloons.

I wonder if they’ll give me my $2.99 back.

Edith Bunker’s Meatloaf

As Harper’s Other Dad noted in a recent post in his blog, I made meatloaf. It is not something I make often. But, once in a blue moon, it calls to me from the ether when I have ground beef and all the usual ways of using it seem too…usual.

Somehow, exactly how is lost in the mists of time, I came into possession of Edith Bunker’s All In The Family Cookbook. I think a college roommate may have moved out and left it behind. It cost $.95 when published in 1971 which an online calculator tells me would be $5.55 adjusted for inflation. It is the kind of book I might buy now but I wouldn’t pay that much.

In the section titled; “Chopped Meats” one finds a recipe called “Meat ‘N Potato Load with Spicy Peach Sauce”. Apparently ‘N was considered folksier than an ampersand for cookbook writers of the time. The recipe has an introduction that reads; “Archie sure ain’t the poetic type. The thing – or at least one thing – I will never hear him sighing is, “A jug of wine, a loaf of bread and thou”. But this is one thing I can hear him ordering: “A hunk of meat, a dose of spuds, and some peaches.” Here I got ‘em all thrown together in one loaf. Oh’ ain’t I the clever one.” How can you not love that! Ain’t she the clever one, indeed!

What I find interesting in this recipe is, instead of using bread crumbs or oatmeal as a binder, it uses grated potato.

2.5 cups of grated potatoes
1 onion, grated
3 slices of cooked bacon, chopped
3 eggs, beaten
1 pound of ground beef
2 teaspoons salt (I use less)
1/8 teaspoon pepper (I use more)
1 29 oz. can of cling peach slices (in heavy syrup)
1/2 cup of catsup
1 tablespoon horseradish (I use more)

I remember, in olden times when the Lord was a boy and dirt was new, grating onion and raw potatoes was not much fun. Enter Dame Cuisinart, however, and all is swell. Now I use well-washed baby potatoes without peeling them.

Combine the potatoes, onion, and bacon and beaten eggs. Add the ground meat, salt and pepper and mix well. the recipe instructs; “Now mix it all up very good, using your hands like I do because no matter how hard I try to do it with a spoon or even two spoons at once, there’s nothing like hands for mixing chopped meat.” Press it all down into a loaf pan and bake at 350*F for 90 minutes. Turn it out on a platter and keep warm while making the sauce.

Drain the peaches, retaining 1/4 cup of the syrup in a sauce pan. Add the catsup and horseradish and heat to boiling. Add the drained peaches and simmer for 5 minutes. Spoon some of the sauce over the meatloaf and put the rest in a dish to pass at the table.

I usually serve it with a salad or a green vegetable and corn muffins.

The dish in very easy to make and is easy to customize. Add extra ingredients to the loaf. Use additional herbs and spices or substitute barbecue or other tomato-based sauces for the catsup. I’ve made meatloaf from other recipes that called for a combination of beef and pork but, since this one includes bacon, I only use beef in this version.

As to the question Harper’s Other Dad’s poses about hiding boiled eggs inside a meatloaf as a horrifying shock whimsical surprise when it is sliced and served…..

Just Say No!

Flagstaff 2015

We had just a lovely weekend in Flagstaff. For any that might be unfamiliar, Flagstaff is the most thriving of Arizona’s old Route 66 communities. With a population of about 70,000, Flagstaff lies just south of Humphrey’s Peak, at 12653′ the highest mountain in Arizona. It is the home of Northern Arizona University (Go Lumberjacks!) and the Lowell Observatory, where they discovered Pluto which may. or may not, be a planet. It is 2 hours north of Phoenix and an hour south of the Grand Canyon.

Baxter sits and looks needy at breakfast time. Harper should have told him that never works with me.

At an altitude of 7000′, it is more than a mile higher than Phoenix which makes it a popular weekend getaway during the heat of summer. Temperatures “up the hill” are reliably 25* – 30* F cooler than in Phoenix. In the winter they usually have snow and there is a ski hill nearby. They had a great deal of snow earlier this season but unfortunately, for us at least, they are having an unusually warm winter so there was no snow in sight on this visit. I certainly enjoyed the 60* days and 30* nights nonetheless.

FLG is a major thoroughfare for both passenger and freight trains. One is never far from the sound of a train whistle.

Our favorite place to stay in FLG is the Starlight Pines Bed & Breakfast. I found it online while planning our first trip there in 2005 and we have returned once or twice each year since. It is a charming home full of antiques. The owners, Richard & Michael are wonderful hosts and serve an outstanding breakfast.

For this visit we had the Dragonfly Room which is very nice, especially because of the wood-burning fireplace in the room. It was a delightful way to celebrate our anniversary, albeit a week late.

I’m Disappointing The Timbit

Timbit

Harper’s Other Dad gave me a wonderful gift for my last birthday, a Fitbit. As homage to Tim Horton’s, the (formerly) Canadian donut shops, and because there is ironic humor in naming a fitness device after what are known around Casa de Harper as “sugar fried cakes of death”, we immediately christened it “The Timbit”. It is very cool. At its most essential, it counts the number of steps I walk each day. From the number of steps, time, and user-specific information I enter at set-up, it calculates various metrics; distance walked, intensity of pace, flights of stairs climbed, calories burned, etc. It also calculates how restful my sleep is, based on how much I move around while sleeping and how often I get out of bed. All this information is aggregated each day and displayed on a dashboard accessible either from my computer or my smart phone.

My Best Week

On the computer or phone app I can also, if properly diligent, log what I eat, the water I drink, and changes in my weight. I can set goals for any of the metrics and Timbit will monitor my progress. It sends me little messages via email or text giving me positive feedback and/or encouragement. “Great job! You only need 1800 more steps to meet your goal.”  The psychological impact of the monitoring is significant. There are definitely times I will make different choices because I know it is watching; walk a few blocks and back rather than moving the car, take the stairs instead of the elevator, etc. The base goal is 10,000 steps per day. Obviously more is better but it is a surprising effective goal. It is achievable but it is a number I would not reach if I weren’t paying attention. A half hour on the elliptical or treadmill at the gym can be 4000. The average walk with Harper is 25o0 – 3000.

There are only two events that cause the wrist strap to communicate with me directly, rather than via email or text from the app. One is when it needs to be recharged, maybe once a week. The other is when I hit 10,000 steps. It vibrates intermittently and the number 10,000 flashes on the screen. It’s like a little celebration.

Yesterday

The single most important action I must take to meet my goals is to wear the thing. I am supposed to wear it all the time, but take it off when I shower or put my hands in water. When I forget to put it back on, it sits there next to the sink feeling abandoned and plotting revenge. Timbit knows it will have the last laugh. I may run all over the place before realizing I am not wearing it. At the end of the day it will show 3800 steps or some such dismal performance.  Ha! Timbit showed me who’s boss.

Yesterday I only logged 6045 steps. I was running errands in the car in the morning and, in the afternoon, I was on the expressway for a couple of hours. Timbit does not care. It brooks no excuses. I’m making up for it today. As I type I am at 5794 for the day…and it’s only 11:00 AM.