Wednesday, May 24, 2017

The City of Poems

I wish there were a library of all the poems written in this city.
No doubt there have been millions.
Every schoolchild writes a poem or two for class,
So that would be millions right there.
Not that those would really interest me much.
And then there are the hundreds of thousands of collegiate poems—
Either dramatically scrawled by hands clenched in angst
Or Procrustean pedagogic affairs that
Butcher and stretch words to make them fit conventional forms.
And we know the poems of Dylan Thomas and Whitman.
The poems have come from every corner of this island.
There are the ones written in Harlem and
Those coming from the Upper East Side.
Thousands were written after the towers fell.
There are the love poems;
There are the memorials;
There are the vicious screaming poems
Complaining about the terms of man’s life.
What if there were a marker wherever a poem was written?
Would there be anywhere in the city you could turn
Without seeing a reminder that a poem was written nearby?
If I were able to read the entire catalog,
What would I find?
How many sonnets in praise of a lover?
How many poems comparing women to flowers?
Perhaps there would be a thousand referencing acorns and oaks.
Ten thousand each on Times Square and Herald Square?
A hundred written in the presence of Balto’s statue,
A thousand amongst the statues of Shakespeare, Scott, Burns, and Halleck?
But most of them have left us
And are gone forever.
Except for the lucky few thousands,
They have found oblivion
And vanished without a trace.
Good thing poems don’t have ghosts.

Sunday, May 21, 2017

Recommended Classic Recordings: No. 1, The Magic Flute

At the bottom of the blog is a list of ten recommended classic recordings. Several years ago I made this list for my brother. I tried to include a variety of styles, composers, and types of pieces in the list. Here are some thoughts on the first recording on the list.

Recording No. 1. -- Mozart: The Magic Flute; Sir Colin Davis, conductor, Staatskapelle Dresden, orchestra; Rundfunkchor Leipzig, choir; Moll, Schreier, Price, Serra, Melbye, Venuti; Philips Duo, recorded in 1985, released on CD in 1994.

This is Mozart’s most likable opera. It premiered only months before he died and, along with other successes that had just preceded it, would have made Mozart a rich man had he lived. The plot of the opera, which is based on Masonic rituals and themes, was dreamt up by a friend of Mozart’s. The plot is a bit puzzling, but the music is stellar. 

The individual numbers in this opera are like musical pearls strung one after another. Brilliancy follows brilliancy. Like the Beatles at their pinnacle, every number is or should be a hit. Having said that the opera is uniformly brilliant, here are seven numbers in the opera that are my favorites:


Ouvertüre
The overture, unlike many operatic overtures, does not quote any of the themes from the remainder of the opera. It is full of richness and variety and takes its place alongside the overture to the "Marriage of Figaro" as one of the best opera overtures ever written.


No. 2: “Der Vogelfänger bin ich ja”
This is an aria sung by the character Papageno: “I am the bird catcher.” The tune is as pleasing as any you will ever hear. It is one of opera’s most memorable and famous melodies.


No. 7: “Bei Männern, welche Liebe fühlen”
This duet is very special. It is a sung by Papageno and the central female character of the opera, Pamina, who Papageno has been sent to rescue. It is naïve, idealistic, simple, and beautiful.


No. 8, part 3: “Wie Stark ist nicht dein Zauberton”
This is an aria sung by Tamino, the “hero” of the opera. It starts with the light and lilting “Magic Flute” theme played by a flute. Be careful not to get this tune stuck in your head. If you do, you may hum it for days.


No. 10: “O Isis und Osiris”
An impressive aria for the bass, Sarastro.


No. 14: “Der Hölle Rache kocht in meinem Herzen”
Fireworks! Warning! Really high notes, including F’s more than two octaves above middle C! Mozart is said to have spoken of this piece on his deathbed. As he lay dying he supposedly told his wife that in his head he could hear his sister-in-law, who was the singer in the original performances of this work, hitting the high F’s. 


No. 20: “Ein Mädchen oder Weibchen”
This aria revisits Papageno’s bird catcher tune.


These seven numbers can serve as touchstones—tunes that you can use to keep your bearings as you work through the opera; pieces that you can look forward to with anticipation. But once you become familiar with them you will likely develop your own favorites. And there are some really great and funny parts. Like “Hm!, hm!, hm!, hm!”—where Papageno tries to sing while his mouth is bound shut; or a number late in the opera where Papageno, the “birdman,” and his wife-to-be unite in song and sound like chickens. Mozart makes these crazy ideas brilliant.


The particular recording I recommend does not include the recitative, the spoken parts between the musical numbers. I am generally a purist, but in this case I will not insist upon imposing the recitative on everyone. This recording is a great value and one I have enjoyed for years.


Also, the famous director Ingmar Bergman did a version of the Magic Flute that can easily be found on DVD or on streaming services. It’s performed in Swedish and is a touching tribute from one great artist to another.

Saturday, May 20, 2017

Minnesota Opera's La Bohème

On Saturday night I attended the Minnesota Opera's performance of La Bohème at the Ordway in St. Paul with my friend Z. While others no doubt will point to more obscure fare, I'm not afraid to admit that I'm with the average Joe on this one: La Bohème is my favorite opera. This is true despite the fact that I'm generally predisposed to "numbers" operas, operas that are not through-composed and have discreet "songs" or "numbers." But La Bohème has many things going for it: it's Puccini; it has an understandable plot; it's romantic, and it has the music: Musetta's Waltz, "Quando me'n vo'" and the back-to-back-to-back extravagance of "Che Gelida Manina," "Si, mi chiamano Mimi," and "O soave fanciulla." I count those last as the best one-two-three punch in opera.

Intermission at the Ordway
The more I see this opera, the more I think it benefits from a straightforward approach. The libretto is tight, the score is unbeatable, and this simple love story is hard to beat. I have never been so grateful for a performance that lacked pizzazz. There were no anachronistic Nazis, no anti-Trump references, and there was no dry humping or full-frontal nudity (as at La Fenice recently). Instead, the Minnesota Opera got out of the way of a great opera and used a conventional staging to accomplish the result always brought on at the curtain fall: audible sniffles.

Thursday, May 18, 2017

The "Let 'Em Go Strategy": Old Age and Treachery Overcome Youth and Skill

Crit Racing
I've recently been enjoying bike racing criteriums. These are short, fast races on tight courses with many turns. I raced in just one last year, my first, and didn't really get the feel for it because I didn't have my chip at the start line and started a lap down. This year, on May 7, I participated in one in La Crosse during an omnium (a multi-race competition) and it turns out I'm probably better at crits than road races. I have power and I'm a big guy, so flat crit courses are better for me than hilly road race courses. I was extremely pleased with my finish at La Crosse. I was 10th of 23, which was good considering that I was 12 years older than anyone else in the race, and that most were in their 20's and 30's. And I might have placed higher, maybe 5th or so, if not for a scary turn on the last lap where I was nudged by another rider and slid out, nearly hitting a curb, and scrubbed a lot of speed at a critical point in the race.

Well, I enjoyed that quite a bit and headed for the next race, the Tuesday Night Worlds at the Minnesota State Fair Grounds on May 9. This is a weekly crit race series that runs from April to May. While the La Crosse field was small, 23, the fields in this series are much larger, often 50-65 racers. This made me apprehensive, because it's a bit scary to be whizzing around a sharp corner at 30 miles per hour with a pack of cyclists all around you. If anyone makes a mistake there could be a crash that would take out many riders. But things went quite well. The pace was not all that difficult overall (26.2 miles per hour) and I felt pretty good. At the final sprint I headed for the line and was 12th of 59 across the line. Hooray! I can hang with these guys!

But here's the rub: it's a points race, so the places are determined by who has the most points first, and time across the line second. This meant that I got relegated to 16th place. Ah ha! It's about points! My next goal: get points.

I then met with my cycling coach and we agreed to a strategy that she thought was doable: I was going to break away early in the race and try to get some points by putting in an all-in effort for 1 1/2 laps, about a mile. Points are awarded every four laps. So we planned that I would cruise along until lap 6 1/2 and then take off on the back stretch. We estimated how many watts I needed to generate and agreed that once I broke away I would then try to maintain that number of watts until the line at lap 8.

I talked to my buddy Cole, who has ridden in this series for a long time. He's not on my team, but is a good friend. He suggested that I modify my plan to go at  lap 2 1/2 instead of lap 6 1/2--go for the first points. So that was my new plan. And he agreed to help during the race with a few key words.

But here's where the fun part comes in. The biggest problem with my plan was that I needed to not have everyone chase me immediately when I took off. Many of the riders are stronger than I am and they could chase me down right away if they thought I was a real threat. So I resorted to psychology. Bike racers are an extremely judgmental lot--particularly when it comes to whether people and their bikes look cool, look like they have their act together. If your socks are not of the right type, they judge. Sunglasses must make you look cool. And particularly important to racers is that there be no unnecessary equipment on one's bike. Unnecessary equipment slows you down and is uncool. So I hit upon a plan: to make myself look like a total newbie, a rookie, a doofus.

Special "Rookie" Setup
So I set up my bike as if I were going on a casual pleasure ride: with two water bottles (opaque) and my saddle bag--all empty, of course. There's really no need or opportunity to drink anything in this type of race so the water bottles are particularly inappropriate. And, of course, given that you don't have time to change a flat, the saddlebag serves no purpose other than to slow you down. Never did a racer look less threatening.

Before the race I told all my teammates my plan and asked them not to give chase when I took off. I did not want them to help the field catch up with me. Then I pulled up to the front of the pack at the start line to display my water bottles and saddle bag. The judging was palpable.

The race started and I was feeling good. At lap 2 1/2 I was right where I wanted to be, about 5th position, and I took off. My friend Cole, who many in the field knew to be experienced, is reported to have shouted "Let 'em go" at this point. Thanks, buddy!

I dove to the inside curb and went hard. Only one rider followed me. I created significant separation from the field. They were letting us go. So now it was going to be a two minute all-out effort. I set in at the designated wattage and the other rider with me spent most of the time on my wheel. I knew this meant that he'd beat me, but didn't care. I couldn't slow down to make him pass, because then the field would catch us. My goal was to get some points and I didn't much care if it was 3 points for second or 5 points for first.

The field didn't catch us before the line. I got 3 points. I was exhausted and eventually got lapped by the field, but it didn't matter, because I finished the race and got my 3 points. It was good enough for 8th place out of 62--even though almost all the field crossed the finish line before me.

Results: My First Points!
That was the most fun that I have had in a very long time, maybe my whole life. But I think they're on to me now. I don't think they'll let me go next time. But in thinking about it, maybe I'll always ride with my lucky saddlebag!

Donald Trump, Opera Critic -- Part II

I received many requests to publish the remainder of Donald's opera review piece from the time that he was an opera critic for the New York Register. Here's Part II:

Puccini: Madama Butterfly – Un Bel Di Vedremo

This loser again. You know, Verdi was way better and Verdi wrote all his operas in English. This guy Puccini was a crybaby too. It would be nice if the lady singing this song would kill herself before halftime in this opera and just get it over with.

Puccini: Madama Butterfly – Coro A Bucca Chiusa

This is a real nice melody, but it sounds like the singers are kind of mumbling or something. I just don’t get it. But if they’re mumbling in Italian, I suppose it’s just as well that they mumble. Not a very impressive song. Not classy. If I were to write a song for a chorus it would be way better and easier to understand.

Rachmaninoff: Vocalise

Finally, we get rid of those lazy Italians and get a real contributor—a Russian. Note the smartness here. No foreign words. No German. No Italian. I should let you know that I have a HUGE problem with this Romananov guy still being buried in New York. He was Russian and should be dug up from his grave in New York and sent back to his beloved motherland. There can be no doubt that this is what he would have wanted if he were alive. I know I’ll help that happen if I ever have any say about it.

Rossini: The Barber of Seville – Una Voce Poco Fa

Sorry about all these Italians, but you’ve got to give the people what they want. Now the lady singing this song, Maria Callas was an amazing singer. At times quite overweight, but when she got her weight under control, fantastic and super hot. She asked me to visit her backstage once, but I was too busy. A lot of people think she was Greek or Italian, but she was a native New Yorker, just like me. But this Rossini guy is a total disgrace. He lived for 76 years and for the last 40 years did absolutely nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch. He just sat on his fat ass and became a real porker. Embarrassing to all Italians. And I love the Italians. Many of them work at my resorts and they are a great people. Very likeable. And the Romans did a lot of great things. Now this guy’s overtures are supposedly so great, but I think I’m much better at making overtures.

Gluck: Orfeo ed Euridice – Che Faro Senza Euridice?

Now this guy I don’t really know. I am a true opera expert. I know all the great operas from these classical guys, Bach, Chopin, etc. I know all the Beethoven operas by heart. All of them. But Gluck? You know, his name rhymes with “cluck”—to be nice about it—and he really is a chicken. It is cowardly the way he has a woman singing the part of a male god here. And whiney, whiney, whiney: “Oooh, I feel so bad that I lost my hot girlfriend.” –Well get over it pal. Grow some cajones, even if this lady singing doesn’t have any.

Wednesday, May 17, 2017

Airport Parking Ramps

I wrote this a while back.

Airport Parking Ramps

I wish that the military rejected
Recruits as "2-F's."
Then the place I parked my car
Would be easier to remember.
And why such mundane ramp names
As Gold, Red, or Green?
Wouldn't more unusual colors be easier to remember?
Could anyone forget that they parked in the Chartreuse Ramp?
Or the Taupe Ramp, or the Rouge Ramp?
And why letters for rows?
How about the names of civilizations?
Would you forget that you parked in a row named Mesopotamia?
Or Assyria, Rome, or Minoan Crete?
As it is, I'm parked in row 2F of the Gold Ramp.
In the southeastern-most spot.
But I wish I'd parked in the Athens row,
Somewhere in the Butterscotch Ramp.
Or maybe we should force every traveler
To memorialize his parking spot in a poem--
And thus remember it for the rest of his life.
But then I can only imagine the throngs
Gathered outside the security checkpoints,
Pens in hand, unable to finish that last stanza,
Or, if rhymers, missing their planes
Because they parked in a ramp that was orange.

Thursday, May 11, 2017

Donald Trump, Opera Critic -- Part I

[Ed.-- I recently found an old clipping that contained opera reviews from the New York Register when Donald Trump was the opera critic there. Very interesting stuff. Of course, these started right after he bought the paper. Many were surprised that Trump established himself as a leading opera critic in such short order.]

SOME OPERA SONGS
By Donald Trump

Note from the editor:

When I bought this newspaper I was told that the staff were great people. But after taking over I had to fire everyone. They were bad people. Very, very bad people. Not good people. Bad people. No work ethic. Didn’t get things done. But even after the firings, the product I put out here is fantastic, amazing. Everyone agrees that this is the very best paper in New York. Those very bad people started their own newspaper. As you know, they have no class. None at all. Their newspaper steals all my unbelievable ideas, even the idea of a music column, which I invented. They are classless idiots. They can write about their Van Morrison—who by the way is a very close friend of mine—and their Sting—he does tantric yoga at one of my private islands in the Caribbean—and their Neil Young—disgusting man—and all those Hollywood types. They have no class. We have class. So I have a new policy. Every week we will have opera reviews. These will be very classy. And because I have a very good brain, I will be writing the first one about a new mix of my opera favorites, which you can buy at my website.

DONALD’S OPERA MIX -- PART I

Wagner: Tannhauser – Pilgrim’s Chorus

This guy Wagner was brilliant, although he was German. He wrote good music. He had this thing for fat women in his operas, though, and I’m glad to see that these Wagner opera women are getting skinnier. Some of the talent from my Atlantic City shows could definitely help out most of the productions I’ve seen lately. Except for that Anna Netrebko. Super hot. A real babe.

Luckily, this number is all guys, so no piggies singing here. I’ve been told that this song has a Nazi feel to it. I have trouble understanding why people say that. The Germans are great people. I have lots that work for me in business. Hardworking. Good for business. Anyways, these singer guys have pipes. They definitely should get to it a bit faster, though. All of this starting soft and slowly building to a crescendo is ridiculous. My people are rewriting this and very soon we’ll have an even better version of this song for you.

Puccini: La Boheme – Che Gelida Manina

Why do these Italians always write their stuff in a foreign language? But this one is pretty good. The Italian guy singing, Pavarotti, was named after a famous ice cream and he is really okay. But why grab her cold hand? That’s a loser move. This guy should just go for it. You know, grab ‘em by somewhere else. But although he needs some help, this guy is an okay singer. I’m a good singer. A lot of you don’t know this about me, but I was in a choir for many, many years and just happen to have perfect pitch. It’s something I was born with. I truly am a great singer. Astounding. And I will tell you this: when this guy hits the high notes he may even be as good as me. He’s definitely a better singer than Hillary Clinton, who is tone deaf.

Puccini: La Boheme – Si, Mi Chiamano Mimi

So what, do you think that because your name is “Mimi,” you get a pass? Wrong. Even though you are sick with tuberculosis you’re still not thin enough to be hot. You’re a loser. Losers don’t take care of themselves and it’s showing. And the way you throw yourself at the Rudolph guy is disgusting and trashy. Not a classy broad.

Puccini: La Boheme – O Soave Fanciulla

More of this I-tie stuff. And “Puccini,” what does that even mean, “little dog”? “Little pouch”? Whatever it is, it’s little and it’s in his last name, so that makes this guy’s whole family little losers. And this is the third piece in a row by this guy and all back to back to back in one opera. But doing this kind of thing is like when I was dating those hot Anderson triplets. Who needs back to back to back? Somebody should tell this guy to put some filler in between these songs. Still don’t know what this fantastic Rudolph guy sees in this dying, diseased shameful woman.

[Ed.-- I'll publish  more of Donald's stunning reviews in the coming weeks.]

Monday, May 8, 2017

Tony Yike Yang Rocks the House

On Sunday I attended a piano recital by Tony Yike Yang at Macalester College. Yang was a substitute for another pianist who had injured her arm. Yang, eighteen years old, proved again that virtuosity can be obtained at a very early age. His performance was one of the very best recitals put on by the Chopin Society. Other than Daniil Trifonov's tour-de-force of late 2012, I cannot recall a more stunning performance at a Chopin Society recital.

Great Seat!

Yang entered the stage wearing black, including a shiny black shirt with silver buttons down the front. He dove into the Scarlatti. His performance was impeccable--but nothing unusual so far.

Then he hit us with a profound interpretation of the Chopin B-flat Minor Sonata, the "Funeral March Sonata." Right from the start of the first movement his playing was engaging, precise, and contained great depth. His pedal use seemed superb. He was able to layer the sounds in a way that was interesting and well thought out. 

While performing he is more active than many pianists, more Lang Lang than Pollini. He occasionally elevates himself off the stool when striking a heavy chord and contorts his face to match the expressions we would expect to encounter during evocative passages. For instance, he seemed to be almost crying during the striking moment in the third movement--the movement containing the famous funeral march--when the sweet, high legato melody enters. It's a heartbreaking moment and his facial expressions were fitting. This is a wonderful passage and I was really struck by Yang's playing at this point. The first time through the melody its beauty was just crushing. The second time through it seemed a bit of the hurt had gone away through the passage of time. 

Then Yang performed Prokofiev's Piano Sonata No. 7. And it was simply spectacular. Precise. Fluid. Motoric. This will no doubt be a key piece for his upcoming performance at the Van Cliburn Piano Competition, at which he has been selected to be one of the thirty participants. Unlike many performances of Prokofiev's piano pieces, Yang's interpretation was never sloppy. 

After the intermission, Yang offered up a powerful interpretation of Mussorgsky's Pictures at an Exhibition. What is there to say about pianism of the highest order? With the exception of one very, very slight twang upon the release of a pedal, the performance of this piece seemed spotless. And it was powerful.

The audience was in good form. Minimal coughing. Deserved standing ovations after the Prokofiev and the Mussorgsky. It is clear that the musical cognoscenti are found in St. Paul, not Venice. Unfortunately, in contradistinction to the last recital I reviewed, Yang offered no encores. 

Yang is very gifted. It will be interesting to see how he does at the upcoming Van Cliburn competition.

Ten Recommended Classical Recordings: A Sampler for Those New to the Classical Scene

The following is a list of classical recordings that offer a variety of classical genres: opera, symphonies, keyboard, violin concerto, solo cello, piano concerto, and oratorio. Though it is mostly mainstream with respect to the represented composers, it reflects a variety of interesting sounds.

Because the list is intended for someone who is starting to explore classical music many of the recordings are now budget issues. If you have thoughts on the list or would like to pipe in with your own, please do!

1. Mozart: The Magic Flute; Sir Colin Davis, conductor, Staatskapelle Dresden, orchestra; Rundfunkchor Leipzig, choir; Moll, Schreier, Price, Serra, Melbye, Venuti; Philips Duo, recorded in 1985, released on CD in 1994.

2. Beethoven: Symphonies No. 5 and 7, Carlos Kleiber, Wiener Philharmoniker; Deutsche Grammophon, recorded in 1975 and 1976, released on CD in 1996.

3. Bach: Keyboard Pieces, Toccata, BWV 911; Partita BWV 826; English Suite No. 2, BWV 807; Argerich; Deutsche Grammophon, recorded in 1980, released on CD in 2000.

4. Tchaikovsky: Violin Concerto in D; Brahms: Violin Concerto in D; Jascha Heifetz; Fritz Reiner, Chicago Symphony Orchestra; RCA, recorded in 1957, released on SACD in 2005.

5. Panorama—Edvard Grieg, two discs of various piano and orchestral works; Deutsche Grammophon Panorama, recorded on various dates, released on CD in 2000.

6. Bach: Six Unaccompanied Suites for Cello; Yo-Yo Ma; Sony, recorded in 1983, released on CD in 1990.

7. Mozart: The Great Piano Concertos, Vol. I—Brendel; Sir Neville Mariner, The Academy of St. Martin in the Fields; Philips Duo, recorded in 1972-82, released on CD in 1994.

8. Handel: The Messiah; Sir Colin Davis, London Philharmonic Orchestra; Philips Duo, recorded in 1966, released on CD in 1994.

9. Rachmaninoff: Piano Concerto No. 3 and Tchaikovsky: Piano Concerto No. 1; Martha Argerich, Philips, recorded 1982 and 1980, released on CD in 1995.

10. Bach: The Brandenburg Concertos Nos. 1-4 (separate disc one); and Brandenburg Concertos Nos. 5-6 and Orchestral Suite No. 1 (separate disc two), Neville Marriner, The Academy of St. Martin in the Fields; EMI, recorded in 1985, released on CD in 2004.