Four days in Puerto Vallarta

Generally, when I travel, I post my trip report within a few days of my return.  Upon returning from my most recent trip I fell into such a deep funk I found myself unable to write.  But I have pulled myself together, and here’s my post.   

If you’re of a certain age, you’ve seen the Love Boat TV series, which stopped at numerous ports of call, including Puerto Vallarta (often abbreviated as PV).  That’s where I first heard the name.  But it wasn’t until recently I felt the desire to go there – although I’ve been to Mexico several times since I was a teenager, and Daniel and I visited Ensenada during our 2017 cruise. 

Puerto Vallarta has recently been dubbed the “San Francisco of Mexico” – a double entendre as PV is not only dotted with hills just as steep of those as the city to the north, but has also become a destination of choice for LGBTQ+ travelers worldwide.  As for the hills, worry less about your footwear fashion sense and prioritize comfortable shoes – you’ll need them.

The steps illustrate the hills and PV's attitude.

We initially planned to go to PV in March of 2020.  COVID put the kibosh on that and the border was closed just days before our trip.  Another attempt to visit fizzled out that September, as Dan & I decided to keep our travel domestic until we were fully vaccinated.  Finally, the stars aligned, and we were able to visit for four all-too-brief days in the first week of December.  It was a trip in which we had new experiences and made new friends – and which left us with a desire to return soon.    

Mexico’s currency is called the peso.  Confusingly, the peso’s symbol is the same as the US Dollar: $.  For clarity, some retailers will supplement the Dollar sign with MXN.  The exchange rate varies but usually hovers around 20 pesos to the dollar.  While larger retailers accept credit cards, there are often currency exchange fees attached.  To get the most bang for your buck (or peso), I recommend changing currency at your local bank prior to leaving.  It’s best to do this no less than one week prior to departure in case your bank needs to order pesos.  Unless you’re a penny pincher, trade at least $100 (American) per day you’ll be in Mexico.  You can always change pesos back when you return. Following this procedure has the added benefit of allowing you to avoid changing currency at the airport (more on that later).

Daniel and I flew to PV via American Airlines, connecting at Dallas-Fort Worth airport.  Although DFW is a very large airport, it’s arranged in a manner that allows travelers to get from terminal to terminal relatively easily.  There are also plenty of shops and restaurants in each terminal in case you have extra time and want to grab a bite.  As it was, our 1.5-hour layover was more than adequate. 

After landing at Aeropuerto Internaccional Licenciado Gustavo (PVR), we deplaned on the tarmac and entered one of three buses, which headed to border control, which processed our line efficiently.  From there, we collected our baggage, make our way through customs, and ran the gauntlet of time-share hucksters and the currency exchange to exit the airport.  I cannot emphasize this enough: do not interact with time-share salespeople.  They will make offers – including carrying your bag, calling your taxi, or a bus ride to wherever you’re going – just to rope you in.  Ignore them, do not make eye-contact, and proceed to the exit.

Once you exit the airport, you will see a line of white taxis.  Do your wallet a favor and skip them.  Turn left upon exiting, then left at the end of the building, and take the pedestrian bridge that runs over highway 200.  Seek out the yellow cabs and ask the cabbie how much it will cost to your desired location.  Our trip to Zona Romantica (seven miles) amounted to less than $15 American.  Uber is also available, but the yellow cab drivers, like their counterparts in London, have “the knowledge”.  They know how to get you where you want to go, and they often have great stories to share.  An added advantage of the yellow cabs is that they’re to be found at nearly every intersection: when it came time for us to return home, we just walked to the corner and a cab was waiting for us.    

Dan & I stayed at Hotel Mercurio, less than two blocks from Los Muertos beach and right in the middle of everything we wanted to do.  Mercurio mostly caters to the older gay community – we were about the youngest couple there.  That’s fine with me as I had no desire to spend my time with a bunch of selfie-taking “influencers” or middle-aged circuit queens with Peter Pan syndrome.  Most of the clientele were just regular folks like Dan & me.  The relaxed ambience at Mercurio was enhanced by the bartenders and barbacks Jorge, Briam, and David, who were such a joy to interact with.  On Sunday, the relaxation was cast aside for the weekly Beers, Boys, and Burgers party which was…well, I won’t be able to post any photos here. 

Los Muertos pier as seen from our hotel

Mercurio's bartenders Jorge & Briam

You’ve heard it in English and Spanish: Don’t drink the water/No tomar el agua.  It’s not just water, but anything washed in water, including vegetables, which if carelessly consumed could result in a case of Montezuma’s Revenge.  I’ve heard conflicting stories as to whether Puerto Vallarta’s water is safe for Americans (it’s worth noting there’s plenty of unsafe water here in the United States).  Out of an abundance of caution, we brought a supply of Travelan with us.  Just one pill before each meal and we didn’t have so much as a stomachache. 

The lack of digestive issues was most welcome, as eat we did, along with some drinking.  Our first stop after checking into our hotel was down Francisca Rodriquez at the intersection of Olas Atlas at Café San Angel where I enjoyed a fine Blue Cheeseburger with fries and Mexican Coke. 

Our hotel included breakfast each morning – so we never ventured out for an early meal. 

Friday night we went Italian at Piazzetta, just a block down and across the street from the burger place.  The bruchetta appetizer was generously proportioned, as was the fettucine Alfredo with chicken that was my main.  

This place eclipsed Cleveland's own Little Italy restaurants

By Saturday, I’d realized we’d been in Mexico for two days and hadn’t yet had any Mexican cuisine.  A gander to Tacos Revolución (close enough to our hotel that we were in range of their wi-fi) was a welcome dive into authenticity.  We enjoyed drinks, a large appetizer and three tacos each for less than $20 – including tip.

We also sampled La Romantica, a café that specialized in lighter fare, including artfully prepared salads, milkshakes, and churros – a longtime favorite of mine.   

Dan about to go into sugar shock

Unfortunately, we did not get around to trying out any street food, but it’s on the agenda for our next trip there.

PV is rich in options for nightlife, from dive bars to cabarets to more high energy spots.

Palm Cabaret hosted my friend Tonny Kenneth in his latest show, Disco Inferno.  He and the dancers gave lively, and often spicy, renditions of songs I grew up with.  It brought back memories of watching my sisters try the latest dance routines during the 1970s. 

Anonimo and One Six One, right next to each other on Calle Rodolfo Gomez, are two bars catering to mixed crowd.  Anonimo is on three floors, each with its own ambiance: the 2^nd floor has an outdoor patio, but don’t skip the ground and 3rd floors which feature two of the nicest bartenders I’ve ever met: David Mancilla and Miguel Ángel.  David carries a notepad, prepared to write down your favorite songs to add to the video mix.  One Six One is a bit more upscale, with a quieter scene – a great place for an intimate conversation.

At Anonimo

Miguel Angel and David at Anonimo

There are also flashier and wilder bars just north of where we stayed, but I’m a bit long in the tooth for those places.

Not all is perfect in Puerto Vallarta.  Lack of government regulations and zoning enforcement in Mexico has led to overdevelopment in some areas, particularly in Zona Romantica where one condo development not only collapsed during pre-construction but almost took three other buildings with it.  But the hilly, cobblestoned streets still retain much of their charm – for now.  

Site of the recent collapse at Muertos beach

Returning to the US:

Dan and I learned of the new COVID testing requirements, which require a test within one day of the return flight, during our first night in Puerto Vallarta.  Although initially concerned, it turned out obtaining a test was simple and inexpensive thanks to our hotel.  Rapid result tests are also available at the airport.  We recommend arriving at PV airport at least three hours prior to departure, and allow yourself an extra hour if getting tested at the airport.  Despite the airport’s relatively small size there is a generous selection of duty free shops in which to spend your remaining pesos.

Although I took Spanish in high school, and many of the locals speak English, I realized during this trip that my knowledge of Spanish has faded to the point where I had difficulty following conversations between Dan & our new friends.  Having to ask him to translate was embarrassing for me.  So, I’ve downloaded an app and have begun refreshing my skills, as we are most certainly travelling to Puerto Vallarta again – hopefully soon.

 

French Perspectives at Severance

Last night’s concert at Severance saw guest conductor Gustavo Gimeno on the podium and the return of the Labéque sisters to Cleveland.  As with many concerts this season, the program was a nice mix of the familiar and the new, with the focus on music with connections to France which revealed the diversity behind the term “French music” – from the sensuality of Ravel to the almost Brahmsian Classicism of Franck. 

The concert opened with Ravel’s Mother Goose Suite, the second time I’ve heard it here in recent years.  Whenever I hear the suite, I find myself missing the additional music that was created to expand the work into a full ballet.  The performance was paced naturally, with beautiful washes of color applied in Laideronnette and The Enchanted Garden. 

The Concerto for Two pianos by American composer Bryce Dessner received its first Cleveland performance last night.  The work is in three movements, none of which could be considered slow.  The Concerto, although distinctly modern, is firmly tonal and comprehensible even to lay people.  It also has the benefit of being clearly and creatively orchestrated, and the piano writing is a demonstration of the term “pianistic.”  The pianists, conductor, and orchestra collaborated in a performance that was virtuosic in the best sense of the word.  As is customary, our orchestra played the complex piece as if they’d known it all their lives.  The performance was greeted by a deserved and sustained ovation, and the Labéque sisters graced the audience with a apropos encore: “Maria” from West Side Story, in memory of Stephen Sondheim who passed away the previous day.  

 

The Labéque sisters and Gimeno following the Concerto.

The concert’s second half was devoted to Franck’s Symphony in D minor.  The performance began promisingly, with the mystery of the work’s opening kept intact by Gimeno’s scrupulous observation of the section’s rests, which too many well-known conductors gloss over.  From there he seemed to go into auto-pilot and, while I couldn’t find much wrong with the performance, nor could I find much that was meritorious - beyond the technical polish of the playing.  In terms of pacing, the tempi suited the work and the acoustics at Severance.  Gimeno kept a tight rein over the orchestra and there was a sense of movement even in the Allegretto.  But the dynamics ranged from mezzo-piano to fortissimo and the interweaving lines one hears so clearly from, say, Monteux, were obscured in favor of textual flatness.  The finale was exciting and brought an enthusiastic response from the small, socially distanced audience.

I noticed the unobtrusive presence of cameras in the auditorium, so those with the Adella app may be able to watch this concert in the not too distant future.

Cancelled concerts in Cleveland and music in Hudson

The fallout from COVID-19 continues as the Cleveland Orchestra cancelled two concerts this past weekend due to a player testing positive and showing symptoms for COVID-19.  I had been scheduled to attend Saturday night’s concert with guest conductor Thierry Fischer and pianist Tom Borrow – making his Cleveland debut.  A well-connected source has informed me that the affected player was part of the brass section – and we wish the player a safe and speedy recovery.  The nature of wind and brass instruments makes the playing of them while wearing a mask impossible, and at the same time poses a risk to those nearby – the player’s breath, spittle, and germs are literally sent flying.  Thus requiring the player to sit out this concert made sense.  But the cancellation begs the question as to what would have happened it the player was, say, a violinist.  There are enough string players that the orchestra could continue even if a few were unavailable – and in smaller ensemble works the orchestra often utilizes only part of its string section.  Currently, the orchestra is requiring all patrons to be vaccinated, wear masks, and submit to temperature checks upon entry.  Clearly they are doing everything they can to keep local music lovers safe.  But the cancellation also causes one to question what contingencies the orchestra has in the event of further cases among brass and wind players.  Can substitute players be arranged?  It seems to me there is no shortage of gifted young instrumentalists at the nearby Cleveland Institute of Music who would jump at the chance to play with the Cleveland Orchestra.  True, a substitute with limited rehearsal time might result in a performance not having that last bit of polish associated with our orchestra.  But a blooper here or there seems a small price to pay for the continued riches our deservedly world renown orchestra furnishes.  After all, as Toscanini said, “for a few wrong notes no one was ever thrown into jail.”  Despite vaccinations and boosters, it appears COVID-19 and its variants are going to be with us for the foreseeable future.  With audiences willing to take the precautions and endure the mild discomfort of wearing masks, it seems an overreach to hold performances hostage when other contingencies are available.  

The weekend was not entirely bereft of music.  The Hudson based concert series Music from the Western Reserve continued with a duo-pianist recital from husband/wife team Antonio Pompa-Baldi and Emanuela Friscioni.  The program included music by Hindemith, Barber, Debussy, and Rachmaninoff.  All but the Hindemith were familiar to me, and all were exceptionally well played.  Before the concert the pianists engaged in a charming talk about the music, the challenges of duo playing on a single piano, and their personal stories.  At least four more concerts are scheduled for the remainder of the season.

Cleveland welcomes Sheku Kanneh-Mason

The Cleveland Orchestra hosted the return of guest conductor Jakub Hrůša and the Cleveland debut of cellist Sheku Kanneh-Mason this past weekend.  The repertoire featured ranged from the unfamiliar to the slightly familiar – something of a pattern this season.

The concert opened with the Ballade in A minor, Op. 33 by British composer Samuel Coleridge-Taylor.  The work, composed in 1898, marked the professional conducting debut of the young man who was born out of wedlock into one of London’s poorest neighborhoods in 1875.  The Ballade is in the mid-Romantic style of Tchaikovsky and Dvořák – with similar orchestration.  Hrůša and the orchestra contributed a performance marked by sensible tempi and technical polish.  As I’d never heard this music before, I can’t compare it to any other performances or recordings.

Elgar’s Cello Concerto was initially a flop when it was premiered in 1919.  The work’s failure, the result of an unrehearsed performance, deeply wounded the composer (not for the first time in history, as Rachmaninoff’s First Symphony suffered the same fate as conducted by a drunken Alexander Glazunov).  The concerto did not achieve notability until the 1960s when Jaqueline du Pré began championing the piece – but still it’s not a repertoire staple.  To be sure, the concerto is a stark, challenging work.   Composed in the aftermath of a serious illness and during the First World War, it features moments of soaring lyricism contrasted with an almost agonized temperament – a world away from the same composer’s Pomp and Circumstance marches or even the Enigma Variations. 

Sheku Kanneh-Mason became a sensation in 2018 when he played at the wedding of Prince Harry and Meghan Markle – a televised event seen by some two billion people.  At the time I was stuck by the beauty of Kanneh-Mason’s playing and surety of his technique.  Needless to say, anyone who can play with such serenity and finish in front of so many demonstrates the quality of grace under pressure.  To the Elgar Concerto, Kanneh-Mason brought impeccable technique, variety of tonal shadings, and an ample dynamic range  - all put in service to the music.  Hrůša and the orchestra collaborated with an intensity of expression that matched the soloist.  The performance was followed by a very enthusiastic and sustained ovation, which led Kanneh-Mason to gift the audience with an encore: a brief contemplative piece which was unfamiliar to me.

Sheku Kanneh-Mason receives a well-earned ovation.

I first heard Dvořák’s Sixth Symphony as a teenager, listening to a scratchy 78rpm album of the work found in my grandmother’s basement as played by the Cleveland Orchestra under Erich Leinsdorf.  Aside from the third movement Scherzo, a delightful Furiant characterized by alternating two-beat and three-beat measures and surprise cadences, I found the work unmemorable.  But I was only about 16 years old, and my musical ideas were not fully formed – if they ever are.  I’ve heard the work several times over the years, and while there are worthy passages in every movement, along with fine orchestration, I find the work does not exceed the sum of its parts the way the composer’s last three Symphonies do.  Hrůša led the opening movement in an expansive manner, with dashes of orchestral color that revealed the work’s rustic character.  The work’s second movement Agagio was serene and soulful, with lovely woodwind playing.  The Furiant went at a bouncing tempo that was, well, furious, with the movement’s tricky rhythms tossed-off impeccably – an example of brilliant orchestra playing that resulted in an audible “whoo!” from a member of the audience.  Following on that, the finale insinuated itself into the proceedings with merriment until an unbuttoned, declamatory coda that, as they say, brought the house down.   

The Cleveland Orchestra excels in unfamiliar music

This Cleveland Orchestra season will feature more unfamiliar music than any other in its 103-year history.  Last night’s concert, which consisted of works from the 19^th, 20^th, and 21^st Centuries, demonstrated that unfamiliar isn’t necessarily “new”, and that there are numerous worthy works that are not met with immediate success.

Josef Strauss

Josef Strauss was the son of Johan Strauss I and the brother of Johan Strauss II and Edward Strauss.  In some ways, he could be considered the Jan Brady of the Strauss family.  His brother Johan II considered Josef the more gifted of the two, but Josef initially trained as an engineer and even invented a horse drawn street sweeping machine – the ancestor of today’s street sweepers.  He demonstrated talent in other areas but eventually gravitated to the family business: composition.    

Josef’s struggle with mental illness, likely brought on by traumatic brain injuries, and his early death meant that his success was overshadowed by that of his family members.  Dead before he was 43, he never received the recognition in life his father or brothers did.  

Strauss’ Heldengedichte (Heroic Poem), Op. 87, is a waltz inspired work with noble moments that reminded me of Schubert’s Landler – numerous themes are presented but not developed. Although not as memorable as his father’s “Radetsky March” or his brother Johan II’s “Blue Danube Waltz”, it deserves to be better known.

George Walker

The Sinfonia No. 5 by American composer George Walker, completed in 2018, represented the contemporary work on the program.  Walker, a musical prodigy, was educated at Oberlin Conservatory and the Curtis Institute of Music, where he studied with Rudolf Serkin.  Walker should have become the United States’ first prominent African-American classical pianist – a recording of Brahms’ Second Piano Concerto with Walker attests to his technique and musicality.  But the segregated country was not ready, and he turned to composition – America would have to wait until the 1960s when André Watts burst upon the scene for a Black pianist to be fully recognized. 

What in some ways could be seen as misfortune turned out to be fortuitous for music lovers – because there has never been a shortage of good pianists since the instrument was invented.  As a composer, Walker amassed a considerable output that is becoming increasingly known (the Cleveland Orchestra will present two more works by Walker this season). 

The Sinfonia No. 5 is tightly constructed, highly dramatic, and cannily orchestrated – picturesque moments abound during its 20-minute length.  There are motifs and thematic elements which could only be referred to as “American”.  Yet it is not a folksy work like some of Copland’s music, rather it is acerbic and challenging.  The compelling Sinfonia includes spoken narrative, given a stirring rendition last night by Karamu House president Tony F. Sias.

 

Erich Wolfgang Korngold

Erich Wolfgang Korngold was born in Austria to a musical family in 1897.  He was as much as a prodigy as Mozart and Saint-Saëns, but today he is primarily known for his film scores, which earned him two Academy Awards.  As someone who came to Classical music through the “back door” of film scores by the likes of John Williams and Jerry Goldsmith, I have always felt that good music is good music, and genre is secondary.  But while Williams is known as a film composer who has written some concert music (including a fine Cello concerto championed by Yo-Yo Ma), Korngold was primarily a concert composer who, for a decade, also composed film music.

The Symphony in F-sharp major, premiered in Vienna in 1954, is beautifully structured, spectacularly orchestrated, and contains numerous memorable tunes.  The fact that some of these themes were used in Korngold’s film scores is irrelevant – and they may have well been composed long before the films were made and stored in the composer’s “icebox” for a rainy day.  Further, the Symphony is emotionally moving, at least to me.  Last night’s concert was one of only three times I’ve been moved to tears by music, in the work’s majestic and heartfelt Adagio.

The Cleveland Orchestra rehearsing Korngold's Symphony.

It’s clear the Symphony’s critical failure was for non-musical reasons, as there were numerous factors stacked against Korngold.  The composer was the son of Julius Korngold, a Viennese critic known for his blistering reviews and his championing of the music of Gustav Mahler – who was of Jewish ancestry and whose music would not be revived in Vienna until the 1960s.  Korngold, himself a Jew, was presenting his Symphony in a city which was historically and continued to be a hotbed of anti-Semitism long after the war.  Further, the composer, who went into self-exile from Europe in 1938 due to the Nazi regime, chose to premiere a symphony dedicated to the memory of Franklin Delano Roosevelt in Vienna, which had been bombed by the Allies a decade before and was then occupied by the Americans – and the symphony had American based themes (including the World War I song “Over There”).  Doubtless critics felt Korngold, who had even taken American citizenship, was thumbing his nose at Austria and sharpened their knives accordingly.

Criticism of Korngold’s post World War II works was nothing new.  His later works were criticized for their supposed “Hollywood” sound.  But that raises the question: since he helped to create that sound, would it not be more apropos to refer to the “Hollywood” sound as the “Korngold” sound?  His Violin Concerto, premiered by Jascha Heifetz, was panned as “more corn than gold”.  But the work’s posthumous revival is a demonstration that critics in search of a memorable phrase are not the ultimate arbiters of a composition’s merit.  Korngold’s misfortune was that he composed broadly emotive music into an era which was rejecting that aesthetic.  This was the same mentality that led to the replacement of much attractive but “old fashioned” architecture with anonymous “modern” buildings – many of which have not stood the test of time.  Unlike Stravinsky, Korngold’s style didn’t change over time.  While one can criticize Korngold’s lack of “evolution”, it can also be argued that some of Stravinsky’s later works were gimmicky attempts to cash in on the latest fad – and none of his post 1930 works have achieved the renown of the ballet scores he composed prior to World War I.  Sadly, unlike Stravinsky, Korngold didn’t have the benefit of a long life – he died at 60 with no idea that a posthumous revival of his concert music would come to pass.

The orchestra under Franz Welser-Möst performed last night’s program with their usual polish, as if they’d been playing these works for decades, and not for the first time.

 

The Cleveland Orchestra at Severance – a return and a farewell

 

The Cleveland Orchestra returned to Severance this weekend for the first concerts of the 2021-2022 season – as well as its first concerts there since March of 2020.  

In a pre-concert talk with orchestra manager André Gremillet, conductor Franz Welser-Möst spoke of the season in general, including the emphasis on newer and lesser-known music, as well as upcoming concerts he’s especially anticipating, including a January concert with pianist Igor Levit.  Welser-Möst also delved into the importance of the audition process in shaping the orchestra, noting that musicians he appoints may well serve in the orchestra for decades to come. 

The orchestra warming up before the concert

The lesser-known music in last night’s program was Richard Strauss’s Tone Poem Macbeth, Op. 23, a work so rarely performed that The Cleveland Orchestra never played it before this weekend.  Composed in the late-1880s, it’s one of many compositions inspired by the works of Shakespeare – along with Tchaikovsky’s Romeo & Juliet Overture, Beethoven’s Overture to Coriolanus, Mendelssohn’s incidental music to A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and a host of operas. Strauss’s work is probably the least developed, compositionally – not a slam on the composer, merely an acknowledgement that he was in 20s and still developing his style.  The work justifiably leans toward the dramatic and is skillfully orchestrated.  The clean ensemble playing and sonority – balanced even at fortissimo – were apt demonstrations that the orchestra was back where it belonged and still in stellar form.

Joan Tower’s 2021 composition, A New Day, premiered this past summer at the Colorado Music Festival, here received its first Cleveland performances.  The work, for cello and orchestra, is in some ways reminiscent of Beethoven’s Pastoral Symphony in that it’s not strictly programmatic but more an exploration of feelings awakened by specific events, in this case Daybreak, Working Out, Mostly Alone, and Into the Night.  The inventively orchestrated work cannily exploits both the orchestra and cello.  Soloist Alisa Weilerstein proved herself easily up to the job – at least she made it look easy, which is the sign of a virtuoso performer, and Welser-Möst’s accompaniment anticipated her every move.  The performance received a sustained ovation, which the composer was welcomed on stage to share.

The second half of the concert was dedicated to Prokofiev’s Fifth Symphony.  This is a work familiar to Cleveland audiences, not least from the fine recordings made under the direction of George Szell and Lorin Maazel.  The orchestra last performed it at Blossom Music Center in 2018, a concert at which Daniel and I were joined by his niece and nephew.  Before the concert, Welser-Möst mentioned that his interpretation was a bit different than the standard, but I sensed little that was unusual here.  The main differences were a keener sense of orchestral balance in the second movement, Allegro marcato, than is usually heard – with some remarkably feathery playing from the first violins.  Also, the finale went at a very brisk tempo that left even Szell and Maazel in the dust, yet everything was kept in proportion and clarity was never sacrificed.  The finale was brought to a stunning climax which brought the audience to its feet.    

Joela Jones takes a final bow as principal keyboardist.

Last night’s concert also marked Joela Jones’ final appearance as the orchestra’s principal keyboardist – a position she has held since she was appointed by George Szell in 1968.  One Szell appointee, Assistant Principal Second Violinist Emilio Llinás, remains with the orchestra.   

My review of Scriabin's solo piano works

 After several months of hiatus during which I concentrated on self-care (more on that in a later post), I have returned to writing reviews.  The latest is of a nine CD set of Scriabin's complete solo works as played by Maria Lettberg, which also includes a DVD of debatable merit.  Click here to read my review. 

Franz Welser-Möst’s “From Silence: Finding Calm in a Dissonant World”

I recently finished reading Franz Welser-Möst’s new book “From Silence: Finding Calm in a Dissonant World.”  The book is a curious mix of practical advice for maintaining the physical and mental health necessary for a career as a performing musician, sprinkled with a bit of musical analysis, liberally seasoned with Welser-Möst’s justifable concerns about how the social media age has led to a degradation of Classical performance.  

The book makes for interesting reading, not just for those considering a career in Classical music, but those for whom Classical music is an avocation.   That said, I wish Welser-Möst would not contribute to the myths that the Cleveland Orchestra is an anomalous gem within a social wasteland and that the orchestra was not noteworthy before George Szell took it over.   

74 hours in Seattle

Dan & I took a few days off to visit his brother and family in Seattle.  This was our first trip via airline since February 2020 and first trip to the Pacific Northwest.  More on the specifics of getting from here to there and back later in this post.

I’ve long been interested in visiting Seattle.  The area has a marked Native American influence; indeed, the city’s name derives from Chief Si'ahl of the Squamish and Duwamish tribes.  Seattle’s reputation took something of a hit over the past year in the wake of protests over the murder of George Floyd – but the area has a long history of civic involvement and protests so the events last year should have come as no surprise. 

The weather was cooperative although somewhat hotter than is common for the area.  During our first day, there was a pronounced haze over the local skyline from wildfires in British Columbia.  Over the following two days the haze mostly cleared but remained noticeable, and the temperature cooled. 

Dan’s brother and sister-in-law were working the first day.  So, Dan’s nephew and niece were our tour guides as we headed to Snoqualmie Falls.  The area was prominently featured in Twin Peaks, but I never watched.  Like much of Washington State, the hills and sheer number of trees is breathtaking and make for an interesting drive, and the vistas are impressive to say the least.

Snoqualmie Falls.  The small flow at the right is from an overflow tunnel.

Dan with his niece and nephew.

The following day, Dan’s brother guided us around Seattle proper.  We found the area to be vibrant, with crowds tending to be younger than we would have seen in New York or London, to say nothing of Cleveland.

On an unrelated note, I’ve never seen so many man buns in one place as in Seattle.  They seem to have gone out of fashion everywhere else, but here it appeared every second male under 40 had one.  

Nearly 60 years old, the Space Needle remains an impressive sight.  Despite my vertigo, we went to the top and enjoyed the panoramic view of Seattle’s skyline, Puget Sound, and the snow-capped Mt. Rainier beyond.

Our rental car with the Space Needle in the background.

The Space Needle (photo by Dan's nephew).

Dan with his nephew at the Space Needle - note the reflected spire.

From there, we walked to Pike place Market where I found the ritual fish-throwing to be in questionable taste.  But accustomed to seeing ancient looking Gloucester fishermen, I was again impressed with how young the fish throwers were. 

By then we were a bit tired from walking and took a Lyft with the nicest driver back to our rental car.

The next day was rather a sad one as we had to say our goodbyes and make our way to the airport.  We look forward to visiting Seattle again once the travel situation has stabilized.

 

A Tale of Four Airports

Clevelanders love to complain about our main airport, Hopkins, but I’d rate it highly based on our experiences at the four airports we visited.  As advised, we arrived three hours before flight time and were checked-in and through security within a half-hour.  With plenty of time to kill before our flight and not having had lunch, we stopped at Bar Symon where I enjoyed a fine burger that reminded me how much I miss B-Spot.  The main problem with Hopkins is that it is underutilized, with one terminal completely closed since United closed its hub here in 2014.  Moving Burke’s traffic to Hopkins and redeveloping that airport into something more suitable for valuable lakefront property would solve both problems at once.  But I’ve already discussed that in 2015 and 2016 and won’t belabor the point here.

The nadir of our airport experiences was, of course, O’Hare in Chicago.  The problems with that airport are well known and I won’t go into excruciating detail.  Although there are places to eat aplenty, the quality of those “restaurants” is low and indistinct compared with Hopkins’ small but superior selection.  (It’s worth noting many of O’Hare’s food vendors were closed due to the pandemic.)  The men’s room I used was filthy.  The lack of attention extended to a rude Jersey Shore type couple who pawed each other while walking around unmasked.  Our experience in O’Hare is encapsulated by what I saw while waiting for our Alaska Airlines flight to leave the gate: the baggage handler was roughly throwing tagged baggage from the plane onto a ramp.  Small wonder our bag arrived damaged with the TSA approved lock broken.

Seattle-Tacoma Airport is far more user friendly than Chicago.  Despite being spread over six concourses (two of them accessed by train), signage makes it easy to navigate, and the airport is very clean.  I was able to retrieve my bag (wherein I discovered the damage) and grab a bus to the car rental facility in short order.  For our return flight, we again arrived well in advance of boarding (which turned out to be delayed), went through security in about a half-hour despite a long line, and relaxed at Dungeness Bay Seafood House in the South Terminal.   

Our original plan was to return to Cleveland via Las Vegas with Spirit Airlines (the tickets were purchased well before the cancellation meltdown that crippled Spirit the first week in August).  Unfortunately, the second leg of that trip was cancelled, but we opted to keep our reservation with Spirit for the first leg.  Despite the widely reported problems with Spirit, our experience with the flight crew was excellent – and they had a thankless job dealing with the improperly and unmasked along with a child’s temper tantrum. 

Our layover in Las Vegas was hectic.  As in Seattle, McCarran International Airport is spread over a large area – having grown from a much smaller airport since it was originally built in 1942.  Naturally, there are casinos in the airport.  Since we were going from Spirit to another airline, we had to go to another terminal and go through security - again.  What little security there was had to concentrate on processing passengers.  Mask mandates were not enforced, and we were relieved to board our next plane. 

The rebooked second leg of our return flight was on Delta with a further connection at Minneapolis-Saint Paul.  (While there, I did not have time to visit the Larry Craig toe-tapping restroom.)  Delta is not a huge player in the Cleveland market, but the few times I’ve flown them, I’ve been impressed with their unflashy competence.  Delta got us home to Cleveland in one piece and I plan to use them more often when feasible.  Once we were safely in Cleveland and at the parking facility, I realized I had mislaid our parking ticket, which I should have left in the car.  The parking attendant was able to resolve the issue by getting my outgoing flight information, which I still had on my phone.  So a big shout-out to Park Place on Snow Road.   

We were home by noon, Monday.  Dan had to work that night so I sent him to bed.  After a quick trip to the post office to retrieve our held mail, I passed out on the family room sofa.

 

An abandoned trip west

Readers of this blog will know I’ve been fully vaccinated since April.  With that in mind, and with seven weeks of vacation banked with my employer, I’ve been undertaking several recent jaunts.  Dan has been along for some of them, including a weekender in Covington, Kentucky – a friendly town across the river from Cincinnati with a charming Main Street district. 

Dan was not able to join me on my latest trip, during which I planned to venture to Santa Fe with a stop at the recently reopened Four Corners monument.  Unfortunately, the trip did not go as planned and I abandoned the trip in Missouri.

Things began to go wrong in Michigan, from which much of my family hailed.  Some planned genealogical research didn’t pan out and I wound up redeeming that leg of the trip by visiting the Henry Ford museum in Dearborn. 

The camp kit George Washington 

used during the Revolutionary War.

The chair Abraham Lincoln occupied 

when he was assassinated at Ford's Theatre.

The Sunshine Special limo used by FDR and Harry Truman.

After JFK was assassinated while riding in this 1961 Lincoln Continental, 

the car was refitted with a permanent roof and bulletproof paneling & glass.

This 1972 Lincoln Continental was struck by a bullet 

during the assassination attempt against Ronald Reagan.  

After overnighting in Toledo, I headed for the second destination, St. Louis.  I remember a conversation with a customer over a dozen years ago when I was a call center representative.  He was from Missouri, and I mentioned I had heard the state pronounced as both “Miz-oor-EE” and “Miz-oor-AH”.  He quipped that most locals pronounced it as “MIZ-er-ee” (i.e., “Misery”) and having visited there, I now understand why.  There’s a certain oppressive quality of the area that I often encounter in Southern cities (and don’t fool yourself, Missouri IS the South). 

I planned on visiting the recently reopened Harry Truman Library in Independence the next morning, but found it was sold out through the next four days.  At that point, I faced a choice, I could head to Oklahoma City for the next leg of my trip, or abandon the journey and head home.  I decided to cut my losses.  The main deciding factor was not the situation at the Truman Library, but the spreading Delta variant.  Although vaccinated, I could inadvertently pick up the strain and unknowingly spread it to others. 

On the way back, I headed across the Mississippi River from St. Louis and stopped at the Cahokia mounds, all that remains of an ancient Native American city which hosted a population of as many as 40,000.   

A panoramic view from the top of Monks Mount.  

St. Louis is visible in the distance.

Cahokia, as it would have appeared during its peak era.

Heading east on I-70, I ran into some severe weather which made driving enervating and hazardous – so I diverted to US-40, which ran roughly parallel to the Interstate.  It was a sweeter ride but by the time I reached Ohio, I was worn out and decided to overnight in Brookville. 

The following morning, I decided to avoid the interstate altogether and took US-40 to US-42, which took me to Snow Road, which became Rockside Road, and it was just a few turns from there and I was home. 

I made use of the rest of my time off by finishing a few small household projects.