Peel me a grape, lay me an egg...

Another full weekend - our second visit to an opera was expected to go very smoothly (I had purchased standing-room tickets online in advance), then looked like a disaster when we showed up in the evening (my purchase had been rejected because they had sold out of tickets already), we didn't expect to see it (and this was the last performance!), and then at the last minute there were 2 seats left, and the friendly clerk allowed us to buy them at a reduced rate, so we got to see the show after all - in seats, no less! It was The Cunning Little Vixen by Leos Janacek - the music is so charming, full of catchy tunes that stay in your head but you don't mind because they're so lovely. The production was excellent, with many interesting and dramatically effective choices by the director. On an opera stage, you don't expect to see the actors draw pictures on the walls, smash a dozen eggs, wash the floors and pour water all over the stage, and then mop it up (while singing an aria) - but it really grabs your attention. Plus there's a scene where each of the actors laid an egg. La Traviata it's not!

The most exciting development for me lately was meeting the other twenty or so composition students, a very international group, mainly between 25-30 years old but a few older and younger. Classes only began a few weeks ago here, and so this weekend saw the first of the monthly composition seminars, where we all come together to listen to and discuss new pieces. Six hours of intense musical discussion in German was quite challenging for me (I would estimate that I understood 50% of what was said), but of course also stimulating, and gave me some new insights. Most of all, I'm so glad that now I've started to make more personal connections with these other young composers, and I really look forward to sharing experiences and ideas with them as this year goes on. Although I was part of some wonderful personal and musical communities in Colorado, I haven't been around other composers often in the last three years, and I feel that it'll be so good for my development to get to know the students here, to discuss some of the challenges and discoveries that we're all going through, to share with and learn from each other.

The other big news is that my mother is coming to visit! We have many plans, and I'll probably see more museums and cultural attractions in the next week than I have in the last six weeks, which will be fantastic. Pictures and updates on the trio project to come next time...

Your input, please!

After six weeks of composing, during which I finished two short pieces for Japanese koto and did an enormous amount of thinking about new perspectives on composition, I'm ready for the next project. This will be a series of miniatures for different trios. Each piece will focus on a specific musical aspect or two. For example:

- a piece for alto voice, alto flute, viola (the French word for viola is "alto") - exploring melody and sound-colors. The singer sings on neutral syllables ("ah", "oh", "ka", etc.)

- a piece for harpsichord, grand piano, and electric piano (preferably a Fender Rhodes) - the unfolding of a complex musical process at maximum speed.

I will probably write 5 or 6 trios altogether, and I thought it'd be really fun to involve you all as well. So I encourage you to post a comment here with your suggestion of a combination of three musicians (specific instruments or vocal types). You can also vote for your favorite in the poll to the left (which are choices for a more comical piece). When has a composer ever asked you what you wanted to hear?

- - a return to form - -

- - - – – – — — — – – – - - -
- - - – – – — — — c h a p p e l l ! — — — – – – - - -
- - - – – – — — — – – – - - -
- - - – – – — — — a r e – y o u – o u t – t h e r e ? — — — – – – - - -
- - - – – – — — — – – – - - -
- - - – – – — — — w a k e – u p – a n d – w r i t e – u s
– a – n e w – b l o g – e n t r y ! ! ! — — — – – – - - -
- - - – – – — — — – – – - - -

I've been hearing it. This persistent little voice. It scolds me for letting so much time go by without writing a post.

- - - r e m e m b e r - y o u r - f r i e n d s ! - - -
– – – s h a r e – s t o r i e s – a n d – p i c t u r e s ! – – –
— — — D I S H — O U T — T H E — G O O D S ! ! ! — — —

Alright! It's time! I'm ready! Here we go!

It's been an action-packed two weeks: a trip to the woods, another composition lesson, finally getting internet installed!, Rosalind figuring out how to telecommute, making friends at the market and the taverns, the trials and tribulations of ancient heating appliances, culinary delights and disasters...

But let's start right off with another episode of...
THOSE CRAZY AMERICANS!
So every guidebook and nearly every individual we consulted about Vienna told us that the operas are great, and you can get super-cheap standing-room tickets for 1 euro. The website of Theater an der Wien substantiated this claim, so we headed for the show Wednesday night, amazed at the thought of seeing high-quality operatic spectacle for the price of a glass of Sturm. We did some things exactly right: leaving in time to arrive an hour early, buying an appealing-looking falafel dinner to go, heading straight for the ticket line. Everything else we did wrong. I had forgotten how to say "standing room", and Rosalind's here to tell you that little story:

* * * When we got to the theater we went up to a woman standing behind a booth to ask where we could get standing room tickets. Chappell asked, " Wo können wir kaufen.... ..... ... ....standing room?" She kindly replied in English, "you buy the tickets over there" and pointed us to a line of people. As Chappell waited in line, I decided that it would be helpful to know the word for standing room for when we got to the front of the line and asked to buy tickets. I went back to the helpful woman and said in my immaculate German, "Was ist die frage für "standing room?" She didn't blink, and said "Stehplätz. You want two? Zwei." "Danke." I said, and went to relay the very important word to Chappell. I didn't realize until I thought about it the next day that what I had asked was "what is the question for standing room?" * * *

When we reached the front of the line, the ticket-dispensing matron unflinchingly told us that the tickets would cost 7 euros apiece. (Now, that's still a good deal, but it also comes as a surprise when you expected it to be one-seventh the cost.) "Aber die website sagt..." - and just as I ran out of words for my sentence (yes, this happens a lot) she repeated that it would be 7 euros each. So we stopped complaining and bought the tickets. Then we went across the street to the public market area, and most of the vendors and restaurants were closed, so we found a table and chairs in an quiet spot. We had gotten as far as unwrapping the foil on the beckoning falafel sandwiches, when a waitress from one of the open restaurants walked over. With probably the coldest stare I've ever received in my life, this is what she said to us:

"Nein."

You didn't need to know a word of German to know what she was saying. There was no room for questions, asking for advice, maybe even ordering a drink from her - her word was the beginning and the end of our discussion. She continued the stare until we silently packed up and took our dinner elsewhere. The problem was, there was nowhere else to take it. We had bought food at this market, but there was nowhere in the market we could sit unless we bought more food from a restaurant. (Very sneaky.) We walked around looking for options, but eventually just stood and ate our falafels in the cold (and they were cold too, by this point). Standing through dinner, and then standing through an opera - a brilliant combination.

Back at the opera house, the ushers were friendly (and were willing to speak more than one word to us) and directed us up to the ceiling, where the best Stehplätz had by now all been taken (thanks to our long detour for a standing dinner), and all that was left was directly above stage right. If it had been a synchronized-swimming performance, we would have been thrilled with the bird's-eye view. As it was, we could see most of the action, except for when everyone stood downstage, and with the scenery in the way, we could only see their shoes.

Alright alright alright - I'm complaining about the view from cheap opera tickets, and not having a table when we purchased from a small vendor - I should really stop complaining, and recognize that you get what you pay for. Those crazy Americans, won't they ever learn?

The performance was quite good that night. The opera was "Dead Man Walking", a recent work by Jake Heggie. For us, it was more like tired people standing.

--

We're definitely looking forward to more shows though - we agree that a combination of a seated dinner and a standing opera would be acceptable. And I'm beside myself with excitement for Wien Modern, a month-long festival of music by contemporary composers, coupled with dance, film, arts, and demonstrations of unbelievable mechanical instruments (such as a robotic string quartet)!

The markets here are fantastic. Rosalind has discovered a perk of being a frequent customer of the same vendor - they throw in a complimentary kiwi or fig! Here's a pic of the Naschmarkt, with some seriously exotic fruit for sale:


Here's a jackfruit so big it could swallow up a watermelon:


In another corner of town, here's a cute little pepper plant, and another with somewhat berry-like protrusions:


And as promised, here I am with the giant teacup.


There's much more I'd like to share, but it'll have to wait for another post.

— — — h o w — s o o n ? — — —

Well, now that we finally have internet access at home, I'll get back on my schedule of a long post on Friday, and one or two shorter posts during the week. So until then - tschüss!

Reunion!

After two long months apart, Rosalind has now joined me here in Vienna! This should explain clearly enough why I haven't written a post in over a week...=) Plus there's the sudden inconvenience of no longer being able to use free wireless internet from my apartment. That's the problem when you're not paying for internet - it could disappear any minute, and sometimes does. So when we get a proper plan set up for the apartment, I'll be online more regularly - and I'll post some of the culturally enlightening photos that I've been collecting, such as "ALF: Null Problemo mit dem Weihnachstmann" and "Chappell in Front of a Gigantic Teacup".

Yesterday Rosalind and I visited the Naschmarkt, which is one of a few very large open-air markets in the city. I had a scrumptious lunch of Pumpkin Lasagna and she sampled the Goulash, then we wandered around to check out the quite-international vendors (there were several Indian, Chinese, and general Asian grocery stores and stalls, plus the classic Austrian Käseland - land of cheese.) Then we realized that the Lange Nacht der Museen was happening - from 6pm to 1am, over eighty museums in Vienna were open, and a single ticket got you into all of them! - so of course we checked that out. Not surprisingly, we found our way to the Museum of Ancient Musical Instruments, which I will have to go back and spend more time at later...It seemed like there were far more Viennese than tourists out all night, and we suspect that it's a really good way for people to experience their own city. I remember various festivals at American cities, especially First Night on the 1st of January, and First Fridays in Denver, when galleries and museums and live music are all happening all at once.
I think that we all need reminders like that - when you live in a city, you might feel like the cultural attractions are always there, and you could go now or later - and myself anyway, I don't end up going nearly as often as I'd like to. But if it's a special night, and the whole town is out for a party...


Thanks for all of your emails and comments so far - I'll write more soon!