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. 

Mozart and Bruckner at Severance

It was an evening of contrasts at Severance Hall as pianist Garrick Ohlsson strode on stage to play Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 27 in B-flat major, K.595 with the Cleveland Orchestra conducted by music director Franz Welser-Möst.  The first surprise was the presence of Ohlsson himself, announced just a few days ago as a substitute for Igor Levit, who had to cancel due to illness.  I’ve seen Ohlsson in concert several times, including twice in Busoni’s massive Piano Concerto – the polar opposite of Mozart’s relatively modest work. 

It was common for years to consider this, Mozart’s last work in the genre, as a sort of valedictory – even autumnal – work, given that it was first performed just nine months before the composer’s death in 1791.  More recent scholarship indicates that the work was mostly written in 1788, set aside while the composer concentrated on other projects, then hastily completed when the opportunity to perform a new concerto arose.  Ohlsson’s performance hit every musical point with grace, beauty, just the right touch of emotion, and, well, musicality.  Particularly impressive was his treatment of ornaments and trills – each placed right where they needed to be.  Welser-Möst and the orchestra provided the ideal accompaniment, with secondary lines in perfect proportion to primary ones – audible, but not obtrusive.  Ohlsson responded to the enthusiastic ovation with an encore: Chopin’s Waltz in C-sharp minor, Op. 64, No. 2 – in a performance replete with washes of color and inner-voices reminiscent of the old-school of Horowitz and Cherkassky. 

A musical mentor from when I was in my 20s used to opine that the “three Bs” of Classical music were not Bach, Beethoven, and Brahms – but Bach, Beethoven, and Bruckner.  Another acquaintance used to describe Brucker’s Symphonies as “nothing but Germanic burping and farting.”  I disagree with both of those sentiments, though I do find some of Bruckner’s works a bit long-winded.  Of his Symphonies, the two most congenial to me are the Fourth and the Seventh.  This concert featured the Fourth (in the 1878-1880 version), which the orchestra will repeat near the composer’s birthplace in Austria in September for Bruckner’s bicentennial.  Welser-Möst’s approach to Bruckner is similar to his way with Beethoven and Brahms: tempos on the slightly brisk side, with an emphasis on proportion between movements and sub-movements.  Despite the repetitiveness within this symphony (almost like proto-minimalism), things never seemed to drag.  As for the orchestra’s playing, it was simply spectacular – particularly the brass section.  I found myself enjoying the work, but my opinion on Brucker’s oeuvre remains much the same: skillfully orchestrated blocks of tone, inhabiting their own sound-world – with very little actual composing or development taking place.  If Brucker were a 20^th Century composer, he would have found his niche in film music.

It's safe to say I heard more music in that five-minute Chopin Waltz than in the 70 minute Bruckner symphony.

Weber, Zehavi, and Brahms at Severance

Guest conductor Fabio Luisi, making his Cleveland Orchestra debut this weekend, presided over this evening’s concert at Severance Hall, which was rich with musical nourishment of traditional and newer varieties.  

The concert opened with the popular Overture to Oberon by Carl Maria von Weber, one of his final compositions and easily one of the most perfect overtures ever written.  The gorgeous, hushed horn solo which opened the piece was a harbinger of good things to come.  As the work proceeded and the slow introduction segued into the adventurous middle section, Luisi led the festivities with a sure hand, sans baton. 

The novelty on the program was Oded Zehavi’s Aurora, Concerto for Piccolo and Chamber Orchestra, receiving its world premiere this weekend – some four years after a version with piano and percussion accompaniment was premiered at the Cleveland Institute of Music.  The soloist was the orchestra’s principal piccoloist Mark Kay Fink.  The work opens with a slow, ethereal passage in the strings before the piccolo enters and offers commentary which floats above the orchestra.  From there the listener experiences a variety of tempi and dynamics, with moments of whimsy alongside darker passages.  The composer’s skillful orchestration - including chimes, vibraphone, and wood blocks – provided additional color while never overshadowing the soloist’s well-turned contribution.  The raucous applause Fink received upon her initial entrance was repeated at the end.  The composer was present and shared in the bows.

Following intermission, Luisi returned to lead Brahms’ Symphony No. 4 in E minor, Op. 98.  This happens to be one of my five favorite Symphonies (the others are Mozart 41, Beethoven 7, Schubert 9, and Rachmaninoff 2).  It balances perfect musical architecture with profound emotion.  Luisi approached the opening movement with unhurried, inexorable logic which built organically to the coda’s climax.  The slow movement sang with the nobility that is the essence of Brahms’ greatest works.  The jollity of the scherzo never descended into indignity, and the trio was unusually held back in tempo, so the return of the faster section was all the more shocking.  Doubtless to prevent the audience from breaking into spontaneous applause, Luisi did not pause after the scherzo and immediately launched into the final movement.  As with some of Beethoven’s late works, Brahms looked backward and resurrected an old musical form for the finale: the passacaglia.  Here Luisi was notably flexible in tempo, holding the reins tight with some variations and surging forward with others.  But the tempi never seemed imposed, but rather organic as the movement completed one of Brahms’ most courageous musical decisions: ending the symphony in a minor key.  Throughout the entire symphony, Luisi took especial care with balance so that each section was heard in proper proportion – and there were orchestral details revealed in this performance which escape even the best engineered recordings.  This was a Brahms 4 to remember, and the audience knew it.   

  

A note on Music Criticism

There are too many online music boards in our internet age to list, even for a relatively niche genre like Classical music.  A common theme is “critic bashing,” and nearly every professional critic has been subject to it – even a non-professional critic like me has come in for his share of bashing.  I recently read a comment whining that a well-known critic, who posts his own very entertaining videos on YouTube, was just a “failed percussionist.”  First, how does one define “failed”?  Is the person in question a failure because he does not hold a position in a paid, professional orchestra?  So what?  There are numerous performers of all kinds who have opted to pursue a career outside the arts simply because the outside career offers greater stability and remuneration.  Is that a bad thing?  In my mind, it’s certainly preferable to performers who use their connections to promote themselves despite having no business inflicting their mediocrity on an unsuspecting audience.  For the record, I greatly enjoy the videos posted by the critic in question, and I have enjoyed reading his reviews for decades – even when I disagree with him. 

The irony is that the commenter who sparked these thoughts appears to have no musical training whatsoever, which begs the question: who is better equipped to be a music critic: a failed musician, or a non-musician?

The flip-side is that the critic in question has opined that only the opinions of professional critics should carry any weight and has implied that we amateurs should simply silence ourselves.  Sorry, I’m not going to do that.  First, I write these reviews for myself, so I have a virtual diary of concerts I’ve been to and recordings I’ve listened to.  Second, the state of music criticism in Northeast Ohio is rather dire – our major newspaper does not have a full-time Classical music critic.  Instead, it uses a “lifestyle reporter” (whatever that is) who also writes music reviews which offer neither knowledge nor real criticism.  There’s another critic who runs his own local Classical music website and, while he is clearly knowledgeable about music, his writing is often of the “rah, rah” variety.  Those who’ve read my reviews know that I am dedicated to writing the truth and that I have no other agenda (pro or con) and that I worship no sacred cows.   

 Thus, I offer these reviews to the public free of charge because I believe my musical thoughts carry some validity and should be part of a historical record that is scarcely being written.  As I’ve said to a younger friend to whom I offered advice, “You can accept it, take it under consideration, or reject it entirely.”

You’re welcome.

My review of Aaron Copland - Complete Columbia Album Collection

My latest review, for Sony's new Aaron Copland album collection boxed set, has been posted.  As there is nothing pending release that interests me, this will be my last recording review for a while.  Click here to read.  

Mälkki and Kanneh-Mason at Severance

After last week’s disappointing concert at Severance, it was doubly enjoyable to hear relatively rare classics superbly realized by guest conductor Susanna Mälkki and, making her Cleveland Orchestra debut, pianist Isata Kanneh-Mason.

The concert began with Anton Webern’s orchestration of J. S. Bach’s Ricercare from his Musical Offering, BWV 1079.  The original work, a six voiced fugue based on a bleak theme by King Frederick II of Prussia, did not specify which instrument(s) should be used.  Webern’s orchestration begins starkly and steadily builds to a magnificent ending that could have only come from Bach’s pen.  Mälkki’s conducting provided the steady hand – or perhaps I should state the steady baton – the work required.  

This was followed by the Concerto in A minor by Schumann – Clara Schumann.  Her husband’s Concerto in the same key, written some ten years after the wife’s piece, has always seemed a bit trite and overplayed to me – as beautiful as some of the melodies are.  This work, premiered in 1835, displays both its own influences and provides a look into the future of the concerto genre.  The pianistic influences mainly come from Chopin’s concertos, which were hot off the press when Clara Schumann, still a teenager, was composing this work.  The opening movement, in particular, was resplendent with finger-twisting filigree which could easily be mistaken as coming from the Polish master.  But the work also looks forward, particularly in the duet between piano and cello in the slow movement, which presages a similar approach by Brahms in his Second Piano Concerto – composed over four decades later.  Also, the three movements are joined, as Liszt would do in his Second Piano Concerto, which premiered five years after Schumann’s work.  Kanneh-Mason brought everything that was needed to the work: formidable technique, flowing phrasing, an unerring sense of balance - the best kind of virtuosity.  Mälkki and the orchestra provided the ideal accompaniment – especially the lovely cello playing from principal cellist Mark Kosower.  A very enthusiastic and sustained ovation followed, and Kaneh-Mason responded with a nicely contrasting encore, Gershwin’s Prelude No. 1.

Kanneh-Mason following the concerto

Following intermission, Mälkki returned to conduct Hindemith’s Symphony: Mathis der Maler, composed from material the Hindemith was putting together for an opera of the same name which premiered in 1938 – four years after the Symphony.  The work was composed under trying circumstances, as the composer, living in Germany, was being harassed by the Nazis.  He emigrated to Switzerland in 1938 and to the United States two years later.  The music, inspired by the painter Matthias Grünewald’s struggle for artistic freedom in 16^th Century Germany, is in three movements, each in turn based on a painting by Grünewald: Angelic Concert, Entombment, and The Temptation of Saint Anthony.  What struck me about the music, which I’ve only heard infrequently, was that there was nothing in it to offend anyone in his right mind musically.  Mälkki brought to the performance everything that was missing from last week’s concert: broadness of conception, splendor of tone, a wide dynamic range, a sense of balance and pacing that were just so “right.”  There was spontaneous applause after the opening movement, and numerous curtain calls after the finale.  More important, the audience was the quietest I’ve witnessed since the return to concertizing after the COVID lockdown.    

The paintings by Grünewald

The thread that ran through this program was, simply, oppression.  Bach was virtually ordered to compose a six voice fugue by King Frederick II; Clara Schumann had to put her composing career aside to advocate for her husband’s works, to raise their eight children, and become her husband’s caregiver as he lost his grip on reality; and Hindemith had to flee Nazi persecution.   

Ever since music director Franz Welser-Möst announced he would not be renewing his contract in 2027, there has been much speculation as to his successor.  The orchestra could do much worse than to give Susanna Mälkki serious consideration.