Thoughts on Memorial Day

 In the United States, May is Military Appreciation Month, and today is Memorial Day.

It strikes me as odd when I hear or see the phrase “Happy Memorial Day.” Today is a solemn day of remembrance for those who made the ultimate sacrifice to defend our freedom.

At least two of my ancestors died in service to our country. Alonzo Cushing died at Gettysburg, aged 22, fighting for the Union Army during the American Civil War. His brother, Howard, died aged 32 in 1871 during the so-called Indian Wars.

Alonzo Cushing kept fighting after shell fragments pierced his shoulder and then his abdomen. Then a bullet fatally struck his skull. His is today buried at West Point and was posthumously awarded the medal of honor by President Barack Obama.

Despite repeated attempts from some circles over the past 160 years, there are very few mainstream Americans who would characterize the secession of the Southern states and the creation of the Confederate States of America as anything more than it was: an attempt to keep the bestial practice known as slavery legal within their borders. While we Americans think of our nation as defining Freedom, slavery was ended in Britain 30 years before it was here. British abolition required no bloodshed – it was done with the stroke of a pen after the people’s representatives discussed the matter and decided the right decision was to end the practice. America’s abolition of slavery cost over 655,000 Union and Confederate soldiers their lives. That figure does not include the many civilian casualties. Few would argue that the cause for which Alonzo Cushing fought was unjust.

Howard Cushing was a classmate of George Armstrong Custer at West Point. During the Indian Wars in what was then the Arizona territory, he was tasked with pursuing Apache Native Americans in the Whetstone Mountains. Cushing and his troops were ambushed, and Cushing was killed, along with several comrades.

Some will argue that the term Native American should not be applied because, technically, no humans are indigenous to the American continents. But those who some call Indians were here at least 10,000 years before Columbus mistakenly thought he’d arrived in India. If any group deserves the term Native, it is they who were here first. Few would argue that the treatment of the original Americans by various colonial powers and then the United States government ranks as one of the worst atrocities in human history. From the initial colonization of this continent to 1890, the Native American population dropped by 58%, and their territory was reduced so much that the total of reservations today occupies only about 4% of the land here – much of it undesirable desert.

Some would say that while Alonzo Cushing deserves to be honored, Howard Cushing should be forgotten or even vilified – just as many Americans who served in Vietnam were spat upon when they returned to our shores. But our nation’s Soldiers, Sailors, Marines, Airmen, and now Guardians do not have the luxury of picking their battles. They go where they’re told, whether it’s Gettysburg, Europe, Okinawa, Korea, Vietnam, the Middle East, or a training ship based in San Diego. That’s why I hope our leaders take heed of what President Kennedy, a Navy Veteran, said when he spoke of “a future in which our country will match its military strength with our moral restraint, its wealth with our wisdom, its power with our purpose.”

All who serve with honor, and especially all who make the ultimate sacrifice, deserve our heartfelt appreciation.

Wagner, Berg, and Mozart at Severance

[Instrumental music] is the most romantic of all the arts – one might almost say, the only genuinely romantic one – for its sole subject is the infinite….[It] discloses to man an unknown realm, a world in which he leaves behind all definite feelings to surrender himself to an inexpressible longing.  

E. T. A. Hoffmann

 

Tonight was our last Cleveland Orchestra concert of the regular season.  There is one more concert to be presented tomorrow – a repeat performance of Mozart’s The Magic Flute, which we heard last week.  The sets were still standing, pushed a bit toward the back – but the orchestra appeared to be packed a bit more tightly than usual, despite the use of the stage extension.  Tonight’s program featured music from the 18^th, 19^th, and 20^th Centuries –  each work separated by about three quarters of a century – but not presented chronologically. 

The concert opened with the Prelude and Liebestod from Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde, a work that stretches the limits of chromaticism.  Music director Franz Welser-Möst presented an exceptionally clear eyed view of the piece, with brisker than usual tempi and little of the lingering one usually hears.  Instead of the voluptuousness one would hear from, say Karajan, the orchestra’s characteristically bronzed tone was on display.

Soloist Leila Josefowicz then joined the orchestra for Berg’s Violin Concerto – a work which has been closely associated with The Cleveland Orchestra since Louis Krasner, who commissioned the work, recorded it with the orchestra in 1940.  Despite composing within the twelve-tone system, Berg’s work is more Romantic in nature.  Josefowicz gave a performance of poetry and searing intensity, coupled with solid technique – particularly in a challenging section where she had to bow and finger several phrases whilst simultaneously plucking high notes.  She received a sustained ovation, impressive considering the Berg is not exactly a crowd-pleaser. 

 

Josefowicz following the performance

The strings (with the exception of one double bassist) and percussion did not return following intermission as the remaining work on the program, Mozart’s Serenade in B-flat major, the so-called “Gran Partita” K.361, features the winds.  Like many people, I first heard portions of the work’s third movement, the Adagio, in the film Amadeus.  I was 17 at the time.  A year later, I was working at The Music Box, a classical record store located on Shaker Square, and the manager played a recording of while piece.  I was immediately charmed, and since then I’ve heard various recordings of varying quality.  But tonight’s performance led by Welser-Möst was both the first performance I attended and the first where I truly heard the potential of the work.  Each ornament and phrase was perfectly capped off, each movement perfectly timed.  Tempi inflections were subtle, with sly ritards at crucial points during the Theme and Variations which delivered on Mozart’s musical wit.  The famous Adagio was poetic without being ponderous, and the Finale truly swung.  An ideal performance – one which I hope will be issued as a recording in due time.

A well deserved ovation.

 We’re going to see a few concerts at Blossom and Severance over the summer, and the programs for next season look promising.  Kudos to the orchestra for another fine season of music making.  

The Magic Flute at Severance

 It has become a tradition for the Cleveland Orchestra to present an opera at the end of each season.  I’ve been lucky to see Janáček’s The Cunning Little Vixen and Debussy’s Pelléas and Mélisande, both inventively staged, at Severance.  To cap off this season, the orchestra is presenting Mozart’s The Magic Flute – his last opera.

The libretto for The Magic Flute draws on Enlightenment ideas that were blossoming in Europe and the young United States during that era, in particular the ability to overcome human darkness and superstition with the power of reason and love.  This is certainly a welcome message for our time, not merely in the United States, but in much of the world torn by religious, ethnic, and political strife.  This philosophy’s incorporation in The Magic Flute stemmed from Mozart’s status, as well as that of his librettist Emanuel Schikaneder, as Freemasons.  The darkness vs. light theme is demonstrated in the opera mostly via the two characters who act as “puppet-masters” over the others: The Queen of the Night and Sarastro – bitter enemies.  Sarastro is initially presented as the villain, but later shown to be a stern, yet wise and just leader who tests several characters to judge their worthiness.  Sarastro is the epitome of tough-love.  

Our orchestra’s home is not the largest facility.  The hall only seats about 2,200 and is more intimate than, say, Carnegie Hall or Boston’s Symphony Hall – to say nothing of a full-scale opera house.  Yet art sometimes thrives on limitations.  This production was staged with unobtrusive inventiveness; lighting effects were used where one would usually see solid sets.  Several characters made their entrances from the back of the hall.  Both The Queen of the Night and Sarastro were presented with giant puppets placed near the singers, with the Sarastro puppet being confined to a wheelchair.  The costuming was more straightforward, with most characters in formal clothes and the three spirits, amusingly, dressed as waiters. 

As for the singing itself, every performance was on a high level, but it was Kathryn Lewek’s Queen of the Night who stole the show in the well-known "Der Hölle Rache kocht in meinem Herzen" ("Hell's vengeance boils in my heart") – she nailed every treacherous high note with more than precision, but also with musicality. 

As the stage at Severance was fully utilized for the theatrics, the orchestra, with forces appropriately reduced, was placed directly in front of the stage, where the first several seat rows usually are.  Music Director Franz Welser-Möst drew an almost chamber-like sound from the orchestra, his pacing was ideal.  When everything was put together, this was undoubtedly the climax of the orchestra’s 2023-2024 season.  There were numerous bursts of applause after various arias, and the ovation at the opera’s conclusion was among the most sustained this listener has ever witnessed.

233 years after it was premiered, The Magic Flute’s Humanistic message shines through like bright sunlight banishing the darkness.  

A well deserved ovation

Saint-Saëns and Berlioz with Lang Lang and Welser-Möst at Severance

For the first time since before the pandemic, Daniel and I encountered a sold-out Severance Hall at this evening’s Cleveland Orchestra concert, featuring guest soloist Lang Lang.  A few days ago, an email from the Orchestra cautioned us that both the hall and parking garage were sold out, so we took Lyft to Severance, which I’m finding to be an increasingly convenient option.  The email also warned that the concert would start promptly at 8pm (it started five minutes late), and that latecomers would not be seated.  The implication was that for numerous attendees this would be their first classical concert- and judging by the behavior of some in the audience, it was.  For example, each movement of both works on the program was vigorously applauded.  There was also obtrusive taking of cell phone photos and videos during the performance, frequent talking, and other noisy behavior.

Earl Wild famously referred to Lang Lang as “the J-Lo of the piano.”  Whatever one thinks of his pianism, musicality, or stage mannerisms, Lang’s presence on the program puts butts into seats – and despite all the talk of artistry, Classical music is also a business.  So, how did Lang play Saint-Saëns’ Piano Concerto in G minor?  Unevenly.  Certainly, there was nothing to fault pianistically in Lang’s performance – he has technique to burn and is happy to remind the audience of that.  As for his stage antics, they were not overly obtrusive from my seat near the back of the main floor – at least until he started loudly stamping his foot during the concerto’s finale. 

It must be pointed out that the construction of this concerto is somewhat unusual.  Instead of the fast, slow, fast arrangement of movements, Saint-Saëns starts with a moderately paced opening movement, a scherzo for the second movement, and a very fast finale.  Lang’s strength was in his pacing of the opening movement, treating the introductory piano solo in a quasi-improvisational manner.  Throughout the movement, Lang paid attention to details voicing, pedaling, and nuance that are often glossed over.  The dramatic episode was not rushed.  Things went downhill during the Scherzo, where Lang took off like a bat out of Hell.  His approach to phrasing was scattershot, and there was a campy, effete manner that was off putting – particularly when he slammed on the breaks and poured on the schmaltz during the lyrical sections.  The finale took off at a great clip and didn’t relent.  Lang brought out some bass notes which are almost never heard.  But the movement didn’t built toward a climax – it was just a race, like a player piano on overdrive.  As for the orchestra’s accompaniment, Welser-Möst ensured they performed with their usual smoothness and stayed out of the soloist’s way – which was an accomplishment in itself.  The pianist performed an encore - a quiet piece which was unfamiliar to me.

 

Lang Lang following the concerto

Following intermission, Welser-Möst returned to conduct Hector Berlioz’s Symphonie Fantastique.  The program behind this work draws inspiration from Berlioz’s own story.  He fell madly in love with Irish Shakespearean actress Harriet Smithson, who was initially resistant to his charms.  This frustration inspired the somewhat overheated program behind the symphony, in which the protagonist becomes obsessed with the object of his desire, is rebuffed, goes mad, promptly poisons himself with opium, and hallucinates all sorts of things, including seeing her in Hell.  In real life, Smithson gave into the composer’s charms and they eventually married – which turned sour when she gave up her career, which resulted in financial difficulties.  Then, discovering Hector had acquired a mistress, she became an alcoholic.  The two eventually divorced.  The lesson is clear: Be careful what you wish for – you just may get it. But the tale inspired a memorable and oft performed orchestral piece, inventively orchestrated and structurally innovative – with Berlioz’s idée fixe transforming itself throughout the work’s five movements.

The performance tonight was what one would expect from Welser-Möst: brisk tempi, exquisite balancing of sections, immaculate solo work – in particular a gorgeous offstage Oboe solo from Frank Rosenwein – and slavish adherence to repeats: in this case, the repeat during the fourth movement March to the Scaffold.  This repeat simply does not work within the narrative of the symphony – which is, after all, programmatic.  It’s as if the guards, taking the condemned to the guillotine, decide to head back to the jail cell and grab him a last cigarette.  But this is a quibble and the ultimate fault lies with the composer – yes, even geniuses can make mistakes.

 

Chin, Rachmaninoff, and Bartók at Severance

Music of the 20^th and 21^st Centuries was on the program at tonight’s Cleveland Orchestra concert, featuring guest conductor David Afkham and pianist Beatrice Rana. 

The concert began with Unsuk Chin’s subito con forza, composed in 2020 and receiving its first Cleveland performances this weekend.  Creatively orchestrated, it’s a sort of brief fantasia on motifs by Beethoven, with references to the opening bars of that composer’s Coriolan Overture, as well as the dot-dot-dot-dash motif that featured in his Fifth Symphony, Fourth Piano Concerto, and “Appassionata” Sonata.

Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 2 in C minor, Op. 18 followed.  This oft performed and recorded work is open to a variety of interpretations.  Rana’s approach took me back to an earlier era; one of luxuriant tone, reflective pace, and elastic tempi.  In some ways, her playing reminded me of Cliburn and Moiseiwitsch in their primes, yet her interpretation was her own.  Afkham was an ideal accompanist, coaxing an old-school romantic sonority from the orchestra but never letting them overshadow the soloist.  Wonderful to hear.  Rana earned an ovation and rewarded the audience with an encore in the form of a wonderfully pointed and witty rendition of Debussy’s Etude for Eight Fingers without Thumbs.

Following intermission Afkham returned to lead the orchestra in Bartok’s Concerto for Orchestra.  Afhkam’ conducting style, sans baton, is unobtrusive.  He brought to the work’s opening measures a sense of quiet mystery before leaping into the movement proper.  The second movement’s Game of Pairs perfectly highlighted each pair of instruments without allowing them to become garish – which is a problem with some recordings, while the third movement’s Elegy sang with eloquence.  The Interrupted Intermezzo’s highlight was the effortless segue between the Hungarian melody and the parody of the jingoistic tune from Shostakovich’s Seventh Symphony.  Afhkam then plunged headlong into the work’s finale, and whirlwind of orchestral tapestry.  Throughout the proceedings, no matter how loud the orchestra’s forte, every strand of music was kept in proportion.  In short, a marvelous performance from beginning to end.

There has been considerable discussion over the past several months as music director Franz Welser-Möst announced that he would not be renewing his contract with the orchestra in 2027.  Klaus Mäkelä was briefly speculated on as a possible successor.  He subsequently signed on to lead the Chicago Symphony Orchestra and, frankly, I think Chicago is a better fit for Mäkelä than Cleveland.  But Afkham should be considered by the board.  He has the qualities that would benefit our orchestra.

Milhaud, Gershwin, and Stravinsky at Severance

Music of the 20^th Century was featured at tonight’s Cleveland Orchestra concert, led by guest conductor Klaus Mäkelä with pianist Jean-Yves Thibaudet.

The concert began with Darius Milhaud’s Le Bœuf sur le toit (The Ox on the Roof), Op. 58, a set of orchestra pieces based on Brazilian tunes the composer heard when he visited that country in 1917-1919, and later used by Jean Cocteau as a ballet score.  I fell under the charms of the bracingly intoxicating rhythms of Brazil while in a relationship with a Brazilian 30 years ago, who taught me some of the country’s dances.  Mäkelä brought a wonderful sense of elasticity to the raucously congenial work. 

Thibaudet, replacing Yuja Wang, who withdrew from the concert several weeks ago, was the soloist in Gershwin’s Concerto in F.  Thibaudet is a pianist’s pianist – he can seemingly do anything with the instrument.  I’ve never heard the solo part of this work played with such technical finish, refinement, or musicality – details of the work were given the kind of lavish treatment usually accorded to more “legitimate” classical masterpieces.  This raises the question of how to define Gershwin’s oeuvre: Is it Jazz, Classical, or semi-classical (whatever that means)?  It is music suited to the concert hall, and it is good music which has stood the test of time – almost a century’s worth in the case of this concerto.  Mäkelä and the orchestra provided a vigorous accompaniment which, during the louder parts, all but drowned out the pianist.  From my seat at the back of the main floor, there were also some problems with balance within the orchestra – which is not something often encountered at Severance.   

 

Thibaudet following the concerto

Stravinsky’s The Rite of Spring, which touched off a riot at its premiere in 1913, has become standard repertoire for most professional orchestras.  Indeed, Stravinsky is the only composer whose complete ballets – as opposed to suites – are routinely played sans dancers and in concert halls today.  Mäkelä, who favors the big gesture (both visual and auditory) over the refined musical point, was made for this piece.  Tempi were on the swift side and details of balance and nuance were swept away in favor of big, bold sonorities and splashes of orchestral color – never less than vibrant, sometimes brutal.  Refinement was abandoned and there was even a miscued bassoon during the latter part of the work.  It was a rock ‘em, sock ‘em orchestral spectacular which brought the audience to its collective feet.    

Six Days in Puerto Vallarta

Daniel and I tend to plan our vacations well in advance of our travel dates – we’re already thinking about our next three trips.  For months, we had been sketching out a visit to Hawaii for this March.  But late last year, we crunched the numbers and travel time, and decided instead on a return visit to Puerto Vallarta, where we’d travelled in December 2021. For those with short memories, the world was a very different place 28 months ago.  We had to mask up while travelling and had to get a COVID test before we returned to the US.  A good part of that trip was consumed by the hassle of getting in and out of Mexico.  Not this time.  But out of an abundance of caution, I went into a partial quarantine the last two days before our trip.  I went to the gym for my usual leg day on Wednesday.  After that, I only left the house to mail a letter, take out the garbage/recycling, and pack up our vehicle for the trip to the airport.   

I'm a great believer in lists, and I love using Excel for cataloguing my physical media and other collections.  I have a template for traveling with tabs for our itinerary, places to go, and checklists. Everything has been preformatted, so when I decide to travel somewhere, I just copy the template, change the name, and fill out the fields. If things are planned, the experience is smoother.

Yes, I have eye bags - it was 4:30am.

We took pretty much the same flights as before: American Airlines, connecting at DFW.  We arrived at CLE at 2:30am for our 5:01am flight to DFW, only to discover that the ticket counter didn’t open until 3:30am.  We got checked in and went to the TSA pre-check, which didn’t open until 4:00am. Hurry up and wait.  DFW was very crowded, and it continually annoys me how people walk with their eyes glued to their phone instead of looking ahead so they don’t bump into others.  PVR airport is not large (a new international terminal is being built) but reasonably modern and very clean.  We were through passport control and customs quickly, made our way past the timeshare hucksters, out the door, past the official expensive taxis, and across the footbridge to the cheaper yellow taxis. 

Puerto Vallarta (PV) is very hilly, one of the reasons it has been called the San Francisco of Mexico - the other is the large gay community that has formed there over the past 20 years.  We had such a great time in December of 2021 that we regretted that our trip was so short.  We gave ourselves an extra couple of days this time.  One thing I didn’t notice the first time we were here is that even the birds seem to speak their own language.  

When we planned the trip, we forgot that this week is spring break for many colleges.  Since the drinking age in Mexico is 18, there were tons of American teens here - and it was amusing to see the look on their faces as they walked about in the Zona Romantica and saw all the rainbow flags.  But I didn’t hear any of them say anything homophobic.

We got to the hotel before noon and our room was ready for us.  The concierge, Gabriel Borroquez, took us to our room where we were welcomed with a “Feliz Cumpleaños” sign and a bottle of champagne.  We love Hotel Mercurio - it’s not the fanciest place preferred by the snobby queens, but the staff is on point and the location can’t be beat.  Many of the staff, including Joselo, Briam, Deyvid, and Ray have been there for years – and there are some new faces as well, including Danny.  The hotel’s longtime bartender, Jorge Gonzalez, was recently voted best bartender in Puerto Vallarta.  Breakfast is included with the room – and this is not the coffee & stale donuts that passes for breakfast at many hotels, but eggs made to order, pancakes, waffles, and several Mexican breakfasts – including chilaquiles, which were new to me and to which I am now addicted.

With Hotel Mercurio's resident cat, Junior.

Relaxing before breakfast.

Chilaquiles, my new friend.

As mentioned above, PV has a festive gay scene.  Both Dan & I have lost interest in the loud crowded places, preferring the smaller bars where one can enjoy conversation.  We found a place near our hotel called Kevin’s Hideaway and met the owner, who briefly lived in Akron.  The bar is on the 2nd floor, and we were able to watch the street scene below.  We also like Los Amigos – a great place for a quiet drink and conversation with Glenn the bartender.

With Kevin at his hideaway.

Saturday, we met up with some friends from our first trip here.  We hit up the art galleries and explored the foodie scene, which included dinner at Kaiser Maximilian - the Wienerschnitzel was simply the best I’ve ever had, not surprising since the owner is from Austria. 

Delicious.

Sunday was my birthday.  We started it off with a hike to Mirador de la Cruz.  The climb was even more arduous than I anticipated but we eventually made it to the top.  The view was spectacular.  The way down was almost as taxing and we rewarded ourselves with desayuno at McDonald’s, which has several options not available in the United States.  We walked around a bit more and stopped for some ice cream and did some more shopping.  That evening, Dan sprung his surprise: a delicious birthday cake presented to me by Mercurio's Danny while the staff sang Happy Birthday. 

My birthday cake and Piña Colada - purely nutritional.

By Monday our energy was winding down.  We did some more shopping and I found something for the house.  That evening we lounged in the hotel’s small pool. 

Tuesday was our last full day here.  We caught an early bus to the Vallarta Botanical Garden, where we saw many unique plants, peacocks and other birds, and butterflies.  I suddenly felt inspired and recorded several of the bird calls for possible use in a new musical work.  Unfortunately, despite wearing bug repellent I was bitten by a small bug which I hope was not a tick.  After coming back, we got some tasty street tacos - with drinks they were 170 pesos - about $10.  Aside from the chilaquiles we had for breakfast, this was the only Mexican food we had while in PV.   

We went back to the hotel to rest up for the walk to dinner.  Barcelona Tapas is far north of Zona Romantica - but totally worth the walk.  Everything was fab from the food to the service to the view.  We could see the planes taking off from PVR - doubtless filled with tourists sad to leave.  Then a last night of socializing before we packed and got ready to fly home.  

Wednesday, I awoke early and walked to the pier for some photos.  After a leisurely breakfast and packing, Danny & I said our goodbyes & walked to the corner to grab a taxi for the airport.  We arrived at the airport 2.5 hours before our flight, got our baggage checked, and went through security where some entitled American mother was complaining because they wouldn’t let her bring her kid’s play-dough on the plane.  Danny & I spent most of our remaining pesos at the duty-free shops before strolling to our gate.  The terminal was super crowded which explains why they’re building a bigger one.  The return connection at DFW was a nightmare.  Customs and TSA there are the least competently run I have ever seen.  I’m glad I got us a long layover because we needed it.  We landed in Cleveland around midnight.  The first thing we did after getting our luggage was to grab our jackets, then we headed to the shuttle that takes us to long term parking.  Unfortunately, their computers were down for about ten minutes as a queue of cars waiting to cash out and leave formed and grew.  We finally paid and made our way home without further incident.  After six days, it was nice to sleep in our own home again.  But I already miss Puerto Vallarta, especially the friends we made there.