Gilbert Kaplan and Mahler 2

Friday and Saturday night we (the Cincinnati May Festival Chorus ) performed the Mahler 2nd Symphony with Gilbert Kaplan and the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra.

The concerts went well.

It was a fun experience to work with Mr. Kaplan. He's a little stiff as a conductor, but his obvious passion for the work carried him through. The orchestra was little ragged here and there, but by and large, they did the piece justice.

The Mahler 2 is a wonderful thing, and even a bad performance of it is better than a great performance of many other works -- and this was not a bad performance by any stretch of the imagination. There are places in it that move me to tears every time I hear it.
Being able to sit on the stage and watch it being performed is a rare privilege. And a live performance is infinitely more exciting than any recording.

As a singer, my only problem with the piece is that after waiting for an hour and quarter, getting wrapped up in the splendor of it all, I always wonder if any sound will come out of our mouths when it's time to sing "Auf erstehen." Eventually the sound comes, but those anxious few seconds before it does are terrifying.

I've been lucky enough to perform the piece with several conductors. In my opinion, the best was with Jesus Lopez-Cobos. James Conlon, whose performances are usually more about James Conlon instead of about the music, does a fine job with the Mahler 2 as well.

Kaplan, on the other hand, has a metronome in his head and approaches the music almost scientifically, never taking a chance or varying his approach. The emotional content of the performance does not come from Kaplan -- it comes from the music itself. The music on the page, if played in time and together, can't really be screwed up. Mahler's genius will always come through.

As a conductor, Kaplan is OK. He is a precise conductor. From intense and in-depth research, he knows (or at least believes he knows) what Mahler's intentions were, and conducts accordingly. He set his precise tempos and interpretation, and the music and the musicians did the rest.

Under another conductor, it might have been more polished or more emotional, or more something else, but it was still Mahler's music and Mahler's genius that was the star of the show and you can't go wrong with that.

I feel privileged to have participated in the performance. I find it hard to understand how the mind of one man could generate such an incredible work.

Bravo to Mahler. Bravo to the orchestra. And Bravo to Gilbert Kaplan for loving the music and promoting it all over the world. His intriguing story brings new listeners to this wonderful piece.

Knitting, Mahler 2nd, other miscellany

I finished the vest illustrated here the other night, in slightly different colors. It looks awesome over a white long-sleeved shirt. Can't wait for the weather to cool off so I can wear it.

I also finished another vest , that one a pullover, that's been sitting in the knitting basket waiting for the neckline ribbing for about six years. It's made in a celadon green twisty yarn with narrow vertical cables and knitted-on pockets. I'm very pleased with how it came out, but it's going to have to get really cold before I can wear it, since it's so heavy.

Well, the bank hasn't been sold, so I guess the rumors of an immanent merger / acquisition weren't as accurate as they were cracked up to be. Our stock has gone up about 40% since I bought some last week. I wish I had bought more -- it would have been worth going into debt to buy them, but it's too late now, and it's really too much of a gamble to do that anyway.

With all the other mergers and acquisitions, we're now the ninth largest bank in the country, but we weren't invited to the table in Washington over the weekend. If we had been, that would have sent a message that we're in bad shape, and that we weren't sent the same message. You can't win.

We have the highest tier I capital ratio of any bank in the country, but the market still hasn't figured that out yet.

I had a good day today. It's another "Work at Home Wednesday," my normal pattern these days, but with a twist. The project lead on one of my projects is an all-the-time telecommuter, and we had a meeting today. Instead of going to the office, we met at a cute restaurant halfway between our homes and had a great working lunch. The food was great, and we accomplished our task. It was a beautiful day, but although it looked very fall-like, the temperature was in the 80's.

We (the May Festival Chorus) rehearsed with Gilbert Kaplan last night on the Mahler 2nd. He was impressed with us. He was apparently unaware that some of us have sung the damned thing almost as many times as he's conducted it. Well, not exactly -- but I sang it as far back as 1981, which was two years before he first conducted it.

I was sort of impressed with him, primarily because of his passion for the piece. He had facsimiles made for us of the opening choral parts in Mahler's own hand, a nice gesture, with the names and dates of our performances at the bottom, suitable for framing, I guess. He presented Bob with a facsimile of the entire choral section, with all of Mahler's ink colors, intact -- from black, to blue, to purple at the end (it gets really passionate at the end).

His conducting was easy to follow, much better than that of many of the big shots we've worked with. One of my good friends in the chorus worked with him before, when she sang with the London Symphony Orchestra Chorus. She related how rude the musicians were to him -- taking forever to tune the timpani, delaying the start of the rehearsal in the process, and then ignoring his direction and playing however they damned pleased. Half the chorus refused to sing, and they had to bring in outside singers.

The stories I've heard about that orchestra and its arrogance have always amazed me. The musicians usually step out to the pubs during rehearsal breaks and seem to have little respect for anything or anyone but themselves. The chorus' rehearsal discipline is apparently appalling as well.

Bob gave us a pep talk last night after Kaplan left, telling us how proud he was of us and our rehearsal with Kaplan. "People some to the midwest and always seem surprised that something this good should be here -- as if the midwest was in the backwoods somewhere. New York City does not have a chorus half as good as you are. Your discipline and work ethic and talent always amaze me -- and you should be proud." Then we worked a little on the Brahms Requiem and he let us go an hour early.

There will be no orchestra run through -- just the dress rehearsl tomorrow night, and Kaplan is being good enough to do the choral movement first, so we can leave early. Performances are Friday and Saturday at eight. If you're in the region, please come. It will be worth any trip -- the piece is amazing (like Kaplan, I, too, have a passion for Mahler). Details of the performance can be found at: http://www.cincinnatisymphony.org/Events/Details/oct17-18cso0809.asp

Tomorrow at lunch I need to look for some artwork for David's house for his 60th birthday on Sunday. When Carol moved out she took all of her little pictures of cats and her gawdawful crewel embroidery off the walls, (thank god - her taste was pure kitsch), his house has had bare spots ever since and he needs some decent art to hang there. He bought her furniture, but he's in the process of replacing 99% of it, so it's finally beginning to look as if a man lives there.

I guess that's it. I need to do some laundry.

Celebrate!

Thursday was a busy day of dining out experiences. David was downtown singing for the Rotary luncheon of bigwigs at the Hall of Mirrors at the Netherland Hotel (nice work if you can get it -- he shows up, sings, leaves, and gets paid for a full shift). He blew off lunch there to meet me.

Hall of Mirrors:

We met in my building's lobby: (While it says PNC bank on top, I don't work for them). I work in the annex, the low building at the left)

We headed for Tiffany's to find a present for Alex. Alex turned 23 on Thursday, which doesn't seem possible, but -- there you are. I bought her the Venetian Link Bracelet, which turned out to be the perfect choice -- at night in the right light it sparkles as if it were diamonds.

After Tiffany's we went for a quick lunch of wraps at Roly Poly -- not exactly Tiffany-esque, but much better than a PB&J at my desk.

After lunch, we walked back to my office and he came up to see where I work. He was wearing his dress uniform, and looked very impressive. Of course, he had the gun and the taser and all the rest of the weaponry, too, which I could have done without. Oh, well.

He walked back to his car, and I went back to work. At day's end, I ran home, picked up a couple of things of Alex's and drove to her apartment to pick up Alex and Justin for dinner.

Alex decided that Pekoe's birthday is the same as hers, so she bought the silly cat a birthday present.

A fish.

In a bowl.

Swimming.

The cat is scared of it.

Dinner was costly, but delightful. The place was Nicola's Ristorante, a hip place located in Over the Rhine in an old car barn for the incline cars from streetcar days. It's a pretty special place, with fabulous food and the possibility of spending as much as $400 for a bottle of wine. We didn't do that. We had the three-course tasting menu, with wine.

The waiter brought us water and bread. The bread selection was a work of art. The bowl was about eight inches across, and was filled to at least eight inches above the top of the bowl.

There was enough bread for a table of ten people. There was a huge variety -- probably 20 different things -- and the variety was interesting. There were little one inch pillows with a filling we couldn't identify, cracker-shaped flatbreads with cucumber or tomato or onion slices baked in, slices of cake-like herb breads, crusty rolls, dark bread, light bread, you name it. Inserted into the pile of bread were reed-like breadsticks about 18 inches long. It looked like a flower arrangement. Beautiful. And delicious.

The waiter solemnly intoned that he wouldn't bring the first course until we had finished all the bread. Alex believed him.

After the bread, they started us off with complimentary champagne.

Before the main courses, they brough out a complimentary (not even on the menu) tomato and basil pudding and butternut squash soup with goat cheese. Then it began:

Seared scallop "Spiaggia" with sauteed shiitake mushrooms, Mache salad, Parmigiano Reggiano and brown butter vinaigrette; Wine: Sauvignon Blanc Alto Adige, San Pietro, 2006

Crispy Potato Gnocchi with four cheese fondue, truffle oil and truffle shavings; Wine: Rosso Piceno Vigna Piediprato, 2005 Umbria

Skinless Peking Duck Breast Confit with seared Grade A Foie Gras, pinenuts and raisin sauteed spinach, celery root puree and jus; Wine: Bardolino superiore Santa Lucia, Veneto 2006.

Justin got a little drunk from the four glasses of wine. The wine was good, and he drained his glasses. Alex and I tasted.

I really enjoyed the Rosso Piceno Vigne Piediprato - it was rich and dry and velvety. I thought the Bardolino was way too acidic, but Alex and Justin liked it. It was interesting that we had such different opinions.

For dessert, we shared an order of gelato -- hazlenut, french vanilla and pink grapefruit sorbet. Yummmmmm.

Then, the waited appeared with one more scoop of gelato, this time dutch chocolate, with a candle for the birthday girl.

When we finished, we had been at the table for nearly three hours. My credit card groaned, but I'm sure the waiter was happy with his $45 tip. He and his cohorts were amazing. Each time we were served with a new plate or glass, three servers appeared and every plate and every glass arrived simultaneusly. The choreography was precise.

As we left, Nicola, the chef, appeared from the kitchen to thank us in his beautiful Italian accent. A wonderful experience, all around.

The meal was reminiscent of Alex's 13th birthday, when a friend took us to Cincinnati's legendary Maisonette, now gone, to celebrate her arrival as a teenager. That meal ended up costing my friend over $400, much more than I spent at Nicola's. That night, Alex drank some of the champagne, and ate snails and marveled at the service and the elegance of it all. I think a monster gourmet was created that night, because she's now a foodie.

It was quite a night, and Christmas will be a little less expensive this year as a result -- but it was worth every penny. Both Alex and Justin really appreciated the experience, and the conversation was a delight. It sparkled like Alex's bracelet.

Alex had a great year -- being recruited by Harvard's theater for her internship, the great work she did there, her graduation from college, being recruited by her theatre company (and how they love what she's done for them!), her involvement at both the local and national level of her college's alumni efforts to revive Antioch College. She's flown my nest and is on her own and is being responsible and happy and so grown up. I'm very proud -- did you guess? The evening was an attempt to show her how very proud I am.

Her father phoned her, a day late, to wish her a happy birthday. But he did phone. I don't expect him to spend money on her. He doesn't have any money to spend, and never has (never a penny of child support), but perhaps he could have sent a card, or come to visit or invited her to his house for dinner. In the past twelve months, he came to her graduation, had her sing at his wedding, and hired her to show houses for an afternoon for an auction he was running on a foreclosed housing development in Kentucky. So in twelve months, he's seen her face to face maybe three times. Grrr.

Friday I indulged myself. I bought a new TV. Circuit City sold me the floor model of a 26" Sony for about $100 less than the usual price, with the same warranty, and it's wonderful. I had been resigned to getting cable or satellite, but I don't think I need to now.

I'm a PBS or Netflix person. In the analog world, I had Cincinnati PBS and a very fuzzy Kentucky PBS, plus CBS, NBC, ABC, FOX, and a couple of local independents (with a lot of infomercials). Now I have CBS, NBC, ABC, FOX, and a couple of local independents PLUS 2 Cincinnati PBS channels, 4 Kentucky PBS channels, and 5 Dayton PBS channels. So from two PBS stations to 11, I'm in heaven. And of course, all the channels are crystal clear. Bye-bye, analog.

Yesterday's class in Yellow Springs was again an inspiring and electric afternoon. I presented my findings on the role of women as expressed in the Qur'an, and told of my plans to contrast that with the teachings of the Haditha and Islamic traditions next week. We read some Old Testament stories in both the Qur'anic and Biblical versions to see the differences, which were subtle, and talked a lot about current Islamic behavior.

One of our class members lived in Bahrain for a couple of years and has some interesting observations. He's taking the class to better understand his experiences there. He knows nothing about the the Qur'an, or the Bible either, for that matter, so he's learning both of the traditions at once and has great questions that inspire fascinating discussions.

I'm so glad I signed up for this class. It's worth driving 150 miles each Saturday to do it.

________________________

My Sister

It's hard for me to think about Connie without tears. It has been just thirty years since she died, but I still miss her terribly. She was my role model, my ideal.

She was 17 when I was born. She graduated from high school a month after my birth, and went off to Alfred University (the school of Ceramic Design) that fall. She was a bit overwhelmed at Alfred, and thought she didn't have the talent needed to compete with the more sophisticated students from NY city (she was wrong).

The summer after her freshman year, she took some courses at Cornell, and transferred to what was then Buffalo State Teachers' College. (The University of Buffalo was private then and had not yet become part of SUNY, and there was a separate state school just for teachers.) She majored in Home Economics.

She put herself through school by working as what we'd now call an au pair, living with dentist's family in Buffalo. She graduated in 1950.

That fall, she started teaching, and just taught home economics for one year. She and Bob married in August of 1951. Bob had started school at Cornell before the war and had finished up his degree in Agricultural Engineering in 1948 once the war was over. I believe he served in the European theater, I think with General Patton's tank corps.

Once they married, they moved into the big house on the farm that Bob had just bought. I remember when they first moved in that the place was a disaster. It had been lived in by some bachelor hired men, and was a real mess.

Milli arrived about 11 months after the wedding, and the boys arrived at regular intervals after that. Connie was pretty busy being a mother and helping to keep the books for the farm and keep Bob and the hired men fed. When Grant, the fifth and youngest, was about three, our mother, who had retired, came to the farm to help out, and Connie went back to teaching, this time teaching art. She didn't have the proper credentials, but she took classes at RIT in Rochester at night and got the certification she needed.


Outside of the farm and the kids and teaching, she was a force to be reckoned with. She sang in the choir at church, and got lots of laughs as a member of a ridiculous vocal group called "The Lee Sisters." They were Ug-lee, Ghast-lee, and Beast-lee. The accompanist was Marian Dud-lee.

I remember the first time I saw them perform. I was home from college and went to a fireman's show at the school, with local talent doing silly things (it was a replacement for the politically incorrect minstrel shows that they had done for many years). I had no idea that they even had a group, much less that they were coming on stage. Out came three women in fright wigs and strange makeup, singing songs about being pregnant and about udder supports for cows. They were hilarious. They sang at events all over the county, much like my high school trio had done -- farm bureau banquets and the like.

Apparently she sang in high school and I think was in her senior play. Of course, I wasn't around, so I only have memories from long ago of things I heard as a child. She played a little piano, although not as much as mom and I did. She played cornet in the high school band, too, I think.

Connie was very active in the county Farm Bureau. She was also instrumental in getting zoning laws for the Town -- they hadn't existed before. She pretty much steamrolled that into happening.

I don't know how she managed it all, trying to raise five kids and being so involved in the community. Somehow, she managed, despite the frustrations of not being able to be perfect at everything. She was not the greatest housekeeper (it runs in the family -- my house is always a disaster, too -- but she had five kids; I have no excuse). She would, like me, start projects that somehow didn't always get finished, and there were always too many books around (same here).

She also had the family photography and gadget bug -- with good cameras being proud possessions. I think that, had she lived, she would have been as crazy about computer technology and the assorted related gadgets as I am. We both inherited that from our father's side of the family -- the more gadgets the better.

She was a great cook (so was our mother). She also had some health-food obsessions. I used to hate eating breakfast at her house, because I was forced to drink mass quantities of brewer's yeast in a tall glass of orange juice. I still gag at the memory of how awful it was.

I think that she decided (like me) that an interesting life, raising your children well, improving your mind, pursuing your bliss and surrounding yourself with worthwhile people were more important that a clean house and a tidy life.

Before she died, she said something that I've tried to keep as my mantra. "This isn't fair. But nobody said life was fair. As I look back on my life, I can say that I loved every single minute of it." I want to be able to say that when my time comes.

She lived life to the fullest. She was a fascinating woman with an excellent mind, many talents and unlimited energies. She produced five fabulous children from the happiest marriage I've ever seen. I am proud to be her sister.