missing the good old Local 6

I used to take it for granted that an orchestra rehearsal was 2.5 hours long, no more, no less.  That my first break would come no later than 1.5 hours into the rehearsal.  That there would be no less than 1.5 hours in between rehearsals.  For these things, I happily paid $200/year; and I would again here, if they were available.  

Yesterday, in an ornate 17th century church right on the river in Lucerne, surrounded by epic mountain views bathed in glorious spring sunshine, swans heckling tourists for food just beyond the church's doors, my colleagues and I spent four hours (Four. Hours.) rehearsing Haydn's Creation.  We were then given a two and a half hour break, after which we returned for an almost three hour run-through.   When I got home last night, my right arm was so tired that I could barely brush my teeth.  I tried using my left hand but it just wasn't as effective. 

The church interior is quite ornate, mostly white, with decorations in shades of coral and turquoise, with tons of gold for that added effect.  It reminds me of the carriage and chandelier I saw at the deYoung made out of crystallized rock sugar. 

The audition, by the way, was just fine.  The theory exam saw me butchering some Bach on the harpsichord, whistling my way through two-part dictation, and trying my best to remember anything about 7th chords.  In an amusing example of language ideosyncrasies, the head of the school contemplated which program I would be best suited for given my "advanced age."  Ha!  Like I'm some kind of matron.  "Well, sonny," I almost said back to him.  He wouldn't have gotten the joke.  Story of my life, what.

I failed to bring my camera with me to Luzern, so I don't have any new pictures of the interesting ducks (tawny heads, red bills, red eyes!), coots, and swans, not to mention those epic views of the Alps.  So, instead I'll leave you with some artsy shots of my bass I took for a newer, better, slimmer, hopefully cooler website.

new book project!

Finished.

Printed onto antique topographical maps of Switzerland.  Wood type on front, handset lead on reverse.  Edition of 12.  More info, I guess, on Etsy.

Also, for your enjoyment, two crappy pictures of a hilarious window display in Groß Basel (across the river from me, in Kleinbasel, or as I've started calling it, "Meinbasel" - my Basel), a picture of these little things printed with the symbol of Basel embedded in the sidewalk all over town, and a photo I took of this bow I'm playing on, while describing it via Skype to my dad.

Thursday is my official audition for the Schola, wish me luck!

just some pictures.

sunset, sans contrails

delicious Korean lunch cooked by my friend Zin Young; many curious pastes and powders were involved. Beverage seen in lower left is sparkling grape juice, it tastes less like grapes than I expected

man in summer suit

biking next to the tram (him, not me)

twilight over Rhein, flag in warm breeze

Hey You Breakfast-Eaters

Dinner tonight rocked.

Fresh spinach-ricotta ravioli; giant mystery chard-like green cooked in olive oil, garlic, red wine and rosemary salt, topped with toasted slivered almonds; Duvel.  Balcony, 7 PM.

Recently moved the plants into a sunnier locale, have been rewarded by a comeback from the chard and a tomato hatching from the lettuce pot. Also some very enthusiastic peas.

As a respite from the high-minded (read:dry) Memoirs of Hadiran I've been reading James Fenimore Cooper - The Last of the Mohicans.  It was mentioned in another book I read recently, and I thought I'd try it.  I'm not entirely sure I want to finish; it's filled with the bigotry of its time, and the rancor towards the non-whites in the book proves difficult to swallow.  Also, it goes from one melodramatic scene of handsome men ("he was a perfect specimen") and mind-blowingly beautiful women of strong character in situations of high danger and near death that it makes me a little tired.  It's no wonder the movie did so well; the book is perfect for a screen adaptation.  I'm even more tempted to stop when I look at my magnificent and largely-unread library; I reorganized my room, and stacked all my books (28 now, including the JFC, thanks to two recent and much-appreciated care packages) where I can easily get to them.  Seeing all those delectable titles is enough to distract me from practicing.  Not such a bad thing, as I've recently overdone it; the last bit of work I had caused me fairly acute pain in my right arm, and I've been laying off a bit to avoid injury.  And my "busy month" has not even begun.  Thanks to the folks a new (old) lighter bow is on its way.  What do musicians do who don't have luthier/archetier parents?  It must really suck.

Alternate titles considered for this post:

Ack, this is so good

Why go out when you can stay in

Cooking with red wine: ruining my wardrobe, one shirt at a time

Holy Crap My Dinner Is So Delicious

Mom was right, plants like sunlight

YUM

JFC: Bigot, or just Melodramatic?

What is Duvel's alcohol content?!

Chekhov! Lessing! Tolstoy! Gaskell! Nabokov!

Bären in Bern!

Yes, my friends,  you are seeing right: Baby Bears (2) with their sleeping mother.  Oh, and some bear poo.  

Supposedly, the man who founded Bern (back in 1191) went and killed a bear in the woods just beforehand, and thought it a fitting name for his new ville.  A pit - the Bärengraben - was built just outside of town (now, it's quite central, directly across the river Aare from the old part with city hall, the big church, Einstein's house, etc) where bears were kept in situations not exactly sympathetic to the bears' personal needs.  As of a few years ago, this has been taken out of use, and a terraced piece of land on the bank of the river has been turned into the new Bear Park; it's not the biggest piece of land, but more than your average bear gets in a zoo.  There's also a passageway to the old bear pit, if they decide they'd like to amble back in.

At the beginning of this year, the bears had these babies, and the he-bear had to be separated from the rest to keep him from eating the cubs.  In his enclosure, practically every sapling tree has been broken in half, or uprooted; seems he's got some destructive urges, so it's probably for the best.  If I were to anthropomorphize, and, why not, I'd say he missed his mate; on the glass wall between the two areas, there are many dirty paw-marks.

Here's a nice view of Bern from somewhere above the city.  If you follow the higher of the two bridges in the foreground across the river from the center of town, then walk to your right and down to the river, you'd be looking at these bears.  The river, like the town, is very beautiful; it is turquoise, and quite clear, and it veritably sparkles as it rushes past.  It's almost too perfect to be real.

Photos (taken from the Bärengraben) not doing it justice.  Suffice it to say, beautiful, quaint, delightful.  My friend Eva and I decided that although we were glad we lived in Basel, we certainly wouldn't mind living in Bern.  

Wandering back across the smaller bridge, we made our way down cobblestone streets, between old houses and buildings, along the river, then up a path -

- to get back to the center of town, where we planned to tackle the longest covered shopping promenade in Europe, the Arcaden.  We both got a little hung up at a used book shop, books here are so different from the books I'm used to.  They seem to be simultaneously made with higher production values, and lower quality materials.  Or, the mass-produced books look like someone decided it was OK for them to be a little nicer than average.

Two examples.  And, of course I didn't take this next photo to discuss the crappy binding method used, but maybe you'll notice anyway.  Or, maybe you won't.

And why would you, really.

Before our exploration of the City of Bern, Eva and I had a nice little walk through the hills outside of Bern, although it was too rainy to catch a glimpse of the majestic mountains we had come with specific hopes of seeing.  At the top of the Wanderweg (hiking path), there was a lookout tower, and even though I'm afraid of heights (surprised?) I braved it for a chance at the view.  Mostly rainy.  But you could see that the weather was starting to break, and light hit upon some snow-covered peaks in the not-so-far distance.  My next pleasure trip should be into those peaks.  

And, I just tried to make this panorama shot in photoshop, but either a photo was missing, or the computer did it wrong.  Well, it's basically the same, and it's kind of funny to see this false landscape.  Enjoy.

What People Are Wearing In Basel. Part 4: Outliers.

Some people resisted my earlier categorizations.  Or, I too hastily put together a set and missed them entirely.  Well, here they are, anyway.

I like this couple.

 They belong to the Stylish Non-Youth, obviously.

Petal-snow

French.

Rollerblading in Switzerland is still alive and well

Finally, braving the cold.  

So concludes my shamefully incomplete picture of the styles out and about.  There were many excellent people I was either too slow or too shy to photograph.  Of course. 

What People Are Wearing In Basel. Part 3: Older, With Style.

This town has quite a contingent of Stylish Non-Youth.  I think some of the best-dressed people I've seen have been older women.  This post doesn't exactly show the best examples, but here are some interesting things, anyway: 

Solids vs Stripes

Maroon corduroy pant suit!  Amazing!

Matching Jackets

Excellent Hat

And, my personal favorite of the day: