late night blog writing

It's nearly midnight here, but it's been a while (and could conceivably be a while longer) so I thought I'd try to get something down.  Just got back from Zurich, where I played a concert (with choir), Pergolesi Vespers, ends up being nearly 2 1/2 hours without a break.  Goodness me.  The church (Predigerkirche) was interesting, built 1308-1350, and all white on the inside, with an impressive teal-colored organ.  There is quite a lot of ornamentation along the walls, including these fatty cherub/baby faces with pink-colored lips and bulgy fatty baby eyes.  (I was trying to find a picture just now but I could not.  Sorry about that.)  Tomorrow I'm off somewhere else, I think it's called Frauenfeld, to play Haydn's good old Creation.  Busy, busy.  Plus, classes begin this week.  Now you see why I can't find the time to write some blog, yes?

School!  I know you are wondering.  At first it seemed Very, Very Complicated.  A bunch of pieces of paper on a wall, lists of classes, teachers, things you had to sign up for, things you didn't have to sign up for, things you could sign up for if you wanted to, and no clear way to differentiate between all of these.  Another wall, with a list of all of us (who's on top? I'm so easy to locate.) and one of the classes we'd been assigned.  I got Generalbass, which basically translates to figured bass, which refers to the little numbers you see under the bass line of Baroque music, telling the keyboard player which chords to play.  My class, though, is not so much about that, as far as I can tell.  In fact, it's a 30-minute-per-week private lesson with a very thoughtful, gentle, scattered-seeming man whom I watched sit on a harpsichord (what?!) and who spent a number of minutes with his forehead scrunched up trying to decide what he would teach me.  In the end, he asked me to play some chords (d minor, A major, d minor, C major, F major, C major, d minor, A major, these are the chord progression of La Folia (from Wikipedia: "La Folía [also spelled "Follia"] is one of the oldest remembered European musical themes, or primary material, generally melodic, of a composition, on record"), for which, in the next couple weeks until our next lesson, I am to devise 6 - 8 variations.  I think I can handle that.
I am also to take something called the Kompactkurs ("compact course"), from which I can choose one of three sections (Medieval and Renaissance notation and theory; 15th century - late 18th century; Baroque and Classical notation and theory) this year and one next year, preferably sections 1 and 2 or 2 and 3 although it's not clear which they'll let me into.  Anyway, there are a lot of other classes offered, and let me just say I was Very, Very Confused trying to sort it all out. 
Fortunately, there's a gentleman on the administrative side (who also teaches lute) named Jeremy Llewellyn, he's from Wales, and hey, he speaks English.  In the chat we had, he explained that technically all I *have* to take each semester are lessons, Generalbass, and the Kompactkurs; I will need to get some more credit points, which can be had by attending other classes and also by playing concerts (so, score, for every gig I play, I can submit the program at the end of the semester and get credit points for it!).  But really, it took this man telling me the information before I understood it, because the signage is extremely complicated.  Even people who speak German think so. 
I have found a couple people to be friends with.  Yes, you may all heave a sigh of relief; little Megan will not be sad and friendless this year.  One of them is another American, Lydia.  She's a singer, and I'm told she's very good.  Perhaps she does not yet know how rewarding it can be to work with a bass player, but it is my plan to show her.

Oh, I'm sorry, I just realized I haven't included any pictures yet.  I've been leaving the camera at home, but I did get a few nice pictures before the weather turned rainy and Cold.

So lovely!  I was walking home from school when I noticed this bug on my shirt.  So I took its picture.

Also on my walk home, I passed by my favorite fountain.  Have I already included a picture of it?  Perhaps.  Well, here it is again.  Little Goat!

OK, lots going on here.  I initially wanted to take this picture for the little post bird on the bow of the boat, but then I noticed some loud noises, and a commotion.  Then it became clear that the loud noises were actually people, fake fighting and singing opera, acting out the staging right there at the Schifflände (ship landing).  Wow!  Pretty neat.

I think there's tons I'm leaving out here.  Playing with me in Zurich was another bass player, Sofus, he's from Norway, and does mostly modern orchestra playing.  We had a long discussion today about work, and rehearsal length.  Turns out modern orchestras here adhere to very similar rules and regulations as those in the States: 2 1/2 hr rehearsal time, break no later than 1 1/2 hrs in, etc, etc.  Why are these things lacking from the Historical Instrument orchestra world?  Because we're amateurs?  I know that's not true.  Because we're so thrilled to have the chance to play this old music that we don't mind going for 4 hours?  Again, it seems absurd.  In a country that loves to follow the rules as much as Switzerland, I'm surprised there's not any kind of system in place for ensuring that we have professional workplace conditions.  (Speaking of rule-following, Sofus told me that at some point he put his trash out on the wrong day, or in the wrong place, and the police went through it, found his name on something, and came and talked to him.  He almost got in trouble with the police!  Wow.)  Well, anyway.  I am happy to be playing this music, even if I sometimes complain about the conditions.

Well heck, it's almost 1 in the morning.  I guess I'd better get myself to bed.  Remind me to tell you a funny story about my endpin.

"And now we are walking over dead people."

Eva told me this yesterday as we strolled around Kannenfeldpark, in the northwestern part of the city.  I think she might have been exaggerating.  It was only a cemetary from 1869 - 1871, and even cemeteries have paths.  The walls around the park have been preserved from that period, as have several statues.  This one, however, is not old, and it creeped me out.  Yes, its "junk" is visible.  Put on some clothes, yo.

Speaking of clothes, I was given the assignment recently to take pictures of people (and their fashion) instead of the same old print shop pictures, nature-shots, and food portraits.  So far, no luck, but I'll try harder in the upcoming days.  The problem is that it has been cold and rainy, which discourages people from looking their best, I've noticed.  Instead, I took some natury-shots of the artichoke I ate this evening.  In a typical move, I started cooking it at the same time as everything else, so naturally it was done as I finished eating my rice-salad-tofu specialty.  I thought for a moment that I was too full to eat it.  Couldn't have been more wrong, as it turned out.

what a sellout.

my friend said: the people demand your observations and progress reports. It's a little egotistical but less so because you're in the middle of a Unique Experience and I know you won't be a tool and write dull tripe.

Let's hope she's right. I'd like to say before anything gets started that this isn't for me, it's for you, even though we all know that isn't true. Anyhow, write me a real letter, and I'll write you back. I'll save some time for the little people. Ha.

For now, it'll be fake mail.

FIRST POST.

This first bit was a response to something posted by a friend of mine regarding Motiveless Walking, written by Iain Sinclair:
In London, from the first, I walked.
He describes the walk as a narrative, as a moving film made from static images.

The walking hasn't exactly been Motiveless thus far. I've gone out with a purpose, rather than to explore, and in fact have not even been onto the balcony at my apartment yet. (Heavens.) So, Motivated as the following walks were, they were still interesting to me, or at least informative. Here, in order.

1. the grocery store. not a long walk. Almost as close as 7 Monte Vista is to Piedmont grocery, add a 100 feet or so. This was on my first full day here, and I was pretty jet-lagged; I stood in front of weird crackers and couldn't wrap my mind around them, seeing as how it felt like the middle of the night.

2. a different grocery store. Actually the same company ("Migros") but this one had 5 floors, including a basement (vegetables and fresh meat). The other floors had things like stationery supplies (3), clothing that all appeared to be some shade of purple (2), a bakery (2), electronics and sports equipment (4), umbrellas (1). My roommate took me there to buy a mobile phone, as they are called here. As you know. (As I'll be calling them when I return to America and speak like some wannabe from The Continent.)

3. the Schola Cantorum, the school I'll be attending, to meet a bass player. Federico, from Argentina. We went for a beer, he was nice. Next week we are going to travel together to Germany to attend a music festival at which our teacher David will be playing, and where we'll take lessons with this bassist named Dane Roberts. He's from San Deigo but has been living in Europe for 30 years. Anyway, the school seems very nice, I only saw the cafeteria area, and some pretty girls standing around, mostly holding cellos or gambas. We went to some student-y bar for a beer, which was light, and fine. The beer, I mean. Both times I've been in a bar here someone has come up to the table trying to sell things, the first time (this time) it was touristy nick-knacks, the next time (#6) it was a teddy bear on a key chain.

4. flea market at St Peterplatz. There are many, many churches around here, and roads are often named for them. This is an old town; on my way to school (#3) I passed by houses with dates written on them from the 1300s.
The bridge I passed over that night to go home had a 1200 date on it. Indeed. Back to the flea market. I didn't sleep well the night before, woke up at 3 and spent 4 hours trying to get back to sleep, so got (to a certain extent) to see dawn. I guess I fell asleep just before it. When my alarm woke me up at 8, the sun was shining, and I thought that meant that it would be warmer outside. Therefore I didn't wear a hat. Ha! My mistake. I thought my head was going to freeze off. I finally took my scarf and wrapped it around my head, old lady style. The flea market was all around the perimeter of an open area next to St Peters church. The area, criss-crossed by sidewalks and lightly populated by tall spindly trees, has a sidewalk that squares in the park. People had set up all along this sidewalk, and though the things they had were a mixed bag, there were a few things that I might have gotten (art, mostly) if I were still earning money. Nice little paintings and prints. Also a lot of old electronics, crappy figurines, random things... I bought a toaster, and a bike, which was the real reason I went. In a typically Megan move, I found a bike with great style (it's so adorable) that needs some work. Not a ton of work, a new chain, some cleaning and greasing, but still, I couldn't ride it right away, which would have been ideal. In fact, I took the bus home. I could have walked but did I mention how incredibly cold I was?

5. bike repair shop. Not far away (nothing is far away here, the whole town is 190,000) but I had to walk the bike. Got a little lost, and arrived just as they were closing. The guy who helped me was a little rude but pumped up my tires, greased the gears, and told me to come back next week so he could fix the chain. The problem is that Basel has this carnival that happens every year called Fasnacht, and everything around town closes for most of the week. So I can't go back until next Friday. Which is fine, really, since I'll be gone three days next week, but I'd really like to use the bike right away. I did ride it home, but the chain is a little long (and rusty) and it had to click into adjustment once or twice per revolution. It's a little sketchy, in other words.

6. bar: zum roten engel (the red angel) with Céline (roommate) and her friends from school. Yes, I went out three times in one day. The town is small enough to be manageable, so it wasn't a big deal. Today I'm going to try to do everything, out and about, in one trip. We'll see how that goes. Céline's school chums were nice, the evening was mostly in German, broken up for me by one or another of the friends feeling sorry for me and asking me questions in English, or telling me what they were talking about. Swiss German is incredibly difficult to understand. Among the group was a girl from Austria, and it was a relief when she spoke; I could tell where words ended, and the next began. The Swiss, however, flow everything together. It's incredibly confusing. I felt bad for Céline so went home early (around 10) so she could just enjoy herself.

7. the closest to a Motiveless walk I've had so far. In reality I was just waiting for a museum to open, but I took the long way round. Wandered out of my neighborhood, over the old bridge,
across to the oldest part of town, up an alleyway and behind the Rathaus, over to the landmark church in town (Münsterkirche - I guess Erasmus is buried there, whom I mostly know about through that *incredibly* trashy show The Tudors which I watched in full last summer, shamefully. Sir Thomas More, whom thankfully I knew about from photographing his book Utopia at Stanford [which, incidentally, was printed in Basel in 1518], was a friend to Erasmus. What a useless aside), and finally onto a little street by the Rhein that led to the Papiermuhle, or Paper Mill, a museum of papermaking, printmaking, and binding. It's pretty awesome. I saw a certificate inside showing that it won best museum in Europe a few years back. You get to see type being cast by hand, they have all the old machines, and a beater for making paper pulp out of rags, connected to a water wheel outside.
I was fortunate to find a Vandercook inside, hopefully soon I'll be able to persuade them to let me use it.
There are many more pictures from this day on my flickr page. I'm using so many different parts of the internet it makes me a little woozy.

In general, Sunday is very quiet. Nothing is open, except for churches and museums. Not even the grocery stores are open. Crazy, I know. What if you run out of bread?

Speaking of groceries, food is expensive here, and the Migros by my house (even the 5-story location) is limited. I got a tip last night to go into Germany or France, both of which are about 10 or 15 minutes away by bike, to do my shopping; apparently the shopping center in France has a huge farmer's market with nice vegetables, tons of cheeses, and most importantly, Belgian beer, all for much less money than the markets in CH, even using the Euro instead of the Swiss Franc (CHF). The beer selection in Switzerland is limited to the lightest of the light, from what I've seen so far.


AFTER writing the first part of this post, I made the trip up to Germany and back via train, with bass, which was quite a lot of schlepping, as you can probably imagine. And whining. (The Volvo, I miss the Volvo.) Federico made a good traveling companion and helped me in the purchasing of tickets and the navigation of foreign cities. With basses, of course. The course ended up being three days of masterclasses with Dane Roberts, although David taught for few hours as well in the middle. There were opportunities to play many different instruments and bows, I was given the assignment of learning one of the Haydn bass solos (Horn Signal) on the Viennese bass (5 strings, tuned, top to bottom, A - F# - D - A - f, and with gut frets)
which was quite an experience, but rewarding. I may never get the solo out of my head, having played it exclusively for three days. Saw many lessons, and also through David got to see two concerts: one, chamber music, played Tafelmusik-style with the patrons eating dinner on the floor of the small theatre; the other, a Handel opera done in the traditional Baroque style, with the stage lit entirely with candles and the performers using complicated hand gestures to emphasize their words. I don't actually know what the opera was about, as we only saw the last act (the whole thing was 4 hours long) and the supertitles were in German, of course. (How's my German, you may ask? Coming along, but sloooooowly. Sehr langsamer.)

Today (Feb 27) I got my bike fixed, I didn't go back to the other shop (too far, too much attitude) but instead went to one about a block and a half from my apartment, the owner of which was incredibly friendly. He is from Iraq, emigrated 15 years ago after leaving a compulsory stint working as an engineer in the army. Said he left because there's been too much war there. No kidding. Following the bike I went to the farmer's market near my house (with much success) then a resale shop (with even more success -- got some shelves for my room, books in English, and a souffle dish). The weather was good, it made for high spirits. The weather is changeable, but predictable, to some extent; you can expect sun in the morning, a couple days in a row. Clouds roll in around 2, then there will be patchy rain in the afternoon and evening. The third day, it is grey, and lightly rains all day. More than a drizzle, but not enough water to be rain-proper. Today was a mix, there was sun coming in my window but I could see small vertical drops falling on the balcony. So, I went out there, for the first time, to see which cloud the rain could be coming from. I'll just say, it was unclear. There's still a chill in the air but less even than when I arrived. (Thank goodness.)

I say the rain is predictable but I didn't plan for it last night when I went to meet an oboe player from the Schola who is originally from San Rafael. When I left her house, around 9:30, I found my bike seat wet (yes, I had taken my first ride!) and there was a very light rain falling. What followed was something of a comedy of errors. First my satchel slipped off my back, and dangled over the bar. I tried twice to put it onto my back, and meanwhile got myself into the middle of the street. There was no one out, so I wasn't at risk, but I ended up in the middle of the tram tracks. I wanted to get back to the side of the road - these trams stop for no one - and in the process the front tire slipped into one of the grooves and I went down on the right side. Not all that bad, to be sure. The chain came off but since it's brand new I barely got grease on my hands. It did shake me up a little, though. I got home fine, except that the topple must have jarred the front headlight, which, when I went over a bump, flew off and exploded on the street. The back lamp I dropped when I was trying to remount the bike and it stopped working, too; 15CHF, and it only lasted a few hours. Oh well. You can imagine that not a few curse words were said. Comedy of errors indeed.


It's weird how I'm asleep during most of my friends' day, and they're asleep during mine.


Today (Feb 28), I did not leave the house. Instead, I read a book. From start to finish, I mean. The book was OK. (I had got it at the thrift store.) I think after reading W. G. Sebald (The Rings of Saturn was the book I had chosen for my trip out here, which was an interesting choice since every narrative follows a subject to its destruction. Kind of bleak. But so great!) anything is a little disappointing. Shall I conclude here, with this boring bit, my first post? Heck. Why not. It's past dinner time, anyway, and I'm sure you all finished your breakfast long ago.