snapshots

My new flatmate Lukas eats a kiwi. I've taken to affectionately calling his broken hand the "kangaroo paw."

He doesn't seem to mind my jeering. Good thing, as it's pretty much constant. Look at that excellent Swedish sweater he's wearing.

The flat:

 Looking from the bathroom down the central hallway in the flat. Coat rack just outside the door. First door on the left, just past the front entry, is Lukas' room; doorway on the left closest to the camera is the living room. Diego's room just on the other side of that. Across from Diego's room is the kitchen (see below), then the doorway on the right you can see in the photo is my room, followed by the hall closet that I have taken over as my own personal clothing storage. Thanks, guys.

 eat-in kitchen

 view from the eat-in part

My room:

 yes, it's kind of narrow.

 But look at that light!

And across the hallway, the living room. Gets great morning+ light. This shot also highlights Lukas' feet. He gave me permission to use this photo.

Oh, look how nice.

Finally, a thoughtfully posed picture of me in my new winter jacket. Did you know that it can be cold outside, and you can be outside, but you don't have to be cold? It's crazy.

Looking deeply into the water, I contemplate my future. Also the practicality of fishing the money from the bottom of the fountain. Pretty impractical.

Dear California.

My last view of the California coast is hazy and golden. The plane swings out over the ocean on its turn toward the east. Los Angeles, Malibu. The Channel Islands in the distance. Sun in my face, so I close my eyes, but don't turn my head away. The coast is beneath me, it is rapidly receding behind me.

A friend here in Basel asked me if I was going to be like James Joyce and write about, long for, mythologize my home while living in self-induced exile in another country my whole life. I think I shrugged noncommittally. (Wait for the blog entries to use more and more of my own special language.) Life in California remains unfinished for me. More specifically, my life in California, the one that I left, still feels the same as it did when I left, even though all kinds of things have changed. Every trip back starts with several days of disorientation. It makes it difficult to be clear about my nostalgia. Does seeing video of LA traffic make me homesick because I miss sitting in traffic? Seems more likely that sitting in traffic in LA was part of who I was as a person. Driving up to Santa Barbara, right after I got off the plane from Europe, I really felt like myself. So we can establish that I spent a lot of time in a car. But then, on my way up to the Bay Area, I was sick of driving by the time I got to King City (I know, only halfway there), which proves that I have changed, after all. The "I" is not a static thing. Or, at least, not entirely.

How was the trip, anyway? Good, short, intense. Half the time the weather was incredible, warm and sunny, but I'd still say this trip was Cold. Why is it always cold inside? You think people would have done something about it by now. First there was the Codex Bookfair: a serious 4 days of sitting at a table explaining my Swiss friends' books, and my own, to students, collectors, and other artists. Also some looking around at other people's books, though not much; it was busy. I bought one book (from the table across the aisle from mine) and traded for two others. A former student from the Academy came and helped me out for two days, and damned if she didn't sell as many books as I did. I had a feeling the twinkle in her cute Brazilian eye would move the unsuspecting fair attendees to reach for their wallets. Then there was the talk I gave, about the Swiss books; the class I taught at the Center for the Book; and then the three days of hanging out before I got on the early BART train to the airport and flew back down to LA. My very nice friend skipped going to work for the morning so she could drive me to get Japanese food before putting me on my plane to Basel.

Basel, now, is cold, in the 30s, raining. I've spent a few days getting organized in my new flat, and I really like it (not least because the heating works so well). It feels excellent to play the bass again, that is a large part of the "I" and it is a part I'm enjoying. I've only got a few more days here before I join an orchestra on a little tour, two weeks on the road, concerts in Hong Kong, Vienna, Dijon. I'm lucky to be able to do these things.

On my east-bound plane, into the darkening sky, I think of looking out over the City from the windy top of San Bruno Mountain, of drinking wine, of walking all over Berkeley. Eating, eating out all the time, Ethiopian food, vegan Mexican, non-vegan Mexican, Vietnamese, Chinese, sushi, sandwiches, soups, salads, beautiful California food. Looking around, drinking beer, doing things. There are so many things. My airplane window is dirty, or fogged up, or both. And behind me, my coast very nearly glows.

Dear Switzerland,

I like you as a friend, but...

Marina del Rey, Catalina Island. Hello, Los Angeles!

 Sunrise in Santa Barbara (I'm cultivating my jetlag to see early mornings)

 Arroyo Burro Beach, Santa Barbara

 Don reflects upon the waves

tangerine from the orchard

 peach blossom

 driving up to SF

 

It's nice here.

shimmying toward the finish line

Oddly, this is the last night I'll be sleeping in my bed in the room in which I've lived for nearly a year. It's not my last night in this room, as the new flat isn't free until Sunday (just in the nick of time!) but tomorrow we'll be moving all the big things, and most of our stuff, into the basement.

I'm pleased to report that I don't have so much stuff. Nearly everything ended up fitting into three large boxes, three small boxes, one crate, and about 5 partially-filled bags with fragile kitchen things. I carried it all down to my own basement tonight to make moving easier in the morning. Either from lack of sleep or poor fitness habits, my legs are so tired that they're shaking. Which is why I'm now ready for bed and under the covers, although it's not even 9 PM. It's not a bad idea, anyhow, as I need to disassemble this bed tomorrow morning before I go to pick up the van we've rented. Some Mercedes thing, Vito? Automatic, apparently. I should hope so, ha.

Rrrr.

I've got my eye on the prize, here. Or, prizes, as it were; finally settling in to the new flat is followed quickly (fewer than 12 hours later) by my departure for California. Thrilled, thrilled, thrilled to be on my way to the Golden State. We haven't had bad weather here recently, it's been sunny and in the high 30s, but I'm looking forward to no pants-under-pants. I'm not even going to bring my pants-under-pants. Take that, Switzerland.

Here's a preview of the new place, just from the outside. The window on the left is the kitchen; on the right is my bedroom. They face roughly west. Pictures from inside to follow.

Heyyy, California! Can't wait to see you.

I am a blog slacker

and I am sorry.

It was only yesterday that I finally had a day off, a true day off, with nothing to do; it's been a good run of concerts, having my mom in town, and more concerts, going all the way back to December 22.  Nearly a month.  And now I've got just a week and a half before I go to California for the Codex Bookfair, and some much-needed hanging-out in the Bay.

Things I failed to write about:

New Years Eve, complete with a tiny bottle of champagne (too tiny?) and some adorable tiny glasses;

taking a walk the next day to my new neighborhood, near this nice river and park called the Lange Erlen (cold and snowy now, but just wait for summer! Yes!),

(the river is called the Wiese)

then going the next day to the largest canton in Switzerland, in the far eastern part of the country, called Graubünden. Cantons are about the size of counties in California, but they function like states.  There are 26 in the country, each with their own customs, dialect, holidays, flag, etc.  Graubünden borders Austria and Italy, and has the mountains to prove it.  Check it out.

 looking toward Italy, from somewhere around 6900 feet

the view above we got leaving the village of Bergün, where we stayed a night. In order to get there, we rode the Rhaetian Railway, listed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site; it's truly spectacular.

 view of a viaduct, from our railway car

The photo above is of the town of Bergün.  The large hotel you see in the center top of the photo is called the Kurhaus, and is full of Art Nouveau architectural details: chandeliers, painted ceilings, stained glass, built-in cabinets. Here's a photo of the Speisesaal, or dining room:

Though we didn't stay at the Kurhaus, we did have dinner there.  This (below) was our table (in a different dining room):

 Yes, that is an apple, impaled by a fork, with angel wings, stuck in a creamer.  I can't explain it to you.

Walking around Bergün you find charmingly painted houses, like these:

 note the goat above that center window: it's the symbol of Graubünden, found on its crest & flag

some crooked painting here

Needless to say, it was a really nice trip. So nice that after we got home I knew nothing could beat it, so I got sick. Nothing serious, and it didn't last too long, but it did prevent too us from making too many more excursions around Switzerland, or even Basel. We did, however, get the chance to look around at the Brockenstuben (Brockis!), the thrift stores, for useful items for my new place. The goal was to spend less than 100chf and we didn't do too badly, if you don't count the furniture we got, which I'll be able to resell when/if I move away. Now all that stuff is sitting in my cellar, waiting to get moved into the new flat, and it's going to have to wait a little longer because the current occupants of the flat -- friends from Druckwerk -- are taking a long time to move out. Not that I blame them; with two kids and tons to do, I'd take a long time, too. But I'm getting impatient! I'll be living with my friend Diego, who plays viola, and a Swedish guy, Lukas, whom we found through the magic of the internet. Lukas is coming to Basel to be an intern at Herzog & de Meuron architectural firm. You know, the guys who designed the Tate Modern, the de Young museum, and the Walker Art Center, just to name a few. Fancy! I hear there will be lots of cocktail parties ("Aperos") that I should try to get myself invited to. Okay, yes, I agree to that.

Overlapping with my mom's last days in Basel was the start of a concert set with the cellist Christophe Coin, famous in the historical performance circles for his recordings, several of which are considered definitive. He also teaches at the Schola. In the concert he led two pieces from the cello, an overture by Haydn and a concerto by Romberg, and then ditched the cello to conduct Schubert's Symphony #5. The concert was wonderful! It was a pleasure to play 19th century music for a change, and to really get that lush string sound you hear in later orchestras, and working with Coin was a real pleasure. I'll stick in a video of him playing Vivaldi, and here is a link to a video of a piece by Mozart, which shows (in bits and pieces) my teacher, David, playing bass in the background. I knew it was him because I recognized his bow, and that's about all we see of him. Anyhow. The Vivaldi. Oops, it won't let me embed the video. You'll just have to go watch it yourself.

Guten Rutsch!

Awaiting the new year.  Full of soup, avoiding laundry, with the contract for my new flat signed and ready to send off.  Having a nice time over here in Switzerland, even though our puzzle was missing a piece.  Check out those Alps. 

Guten Rutsch, btw, means Happy Sliding (as in, into the new year). Makes me think of a giant toboggan to the future. 

Weihnachtszeit (Christmastime)

It's been a while.  (Actually, it's been even longer.  I wrote this over a week ago. Whoops.)  I'll mostly post pictures, since my wit seems to decrease along with the daylight.  Good news, it's only going to start getting lighter from here on out, which means pithy Megan will be back soon.  Theoretically.  Some things happened in the past month.  I rode a giant Ferris wheel at one of the festive Christmas fairs Basel sets up.  It was really nice.  Also I drank glühwein, which turned my tongue purple.  I kept it a secret but maybe it was obvious to everyone.  I hope I never know the truth, if it's that.

My orchid has decided to stay alive a while longer, apparently I'm doing something right.

An orange peel got snowed on, along with everything else.

This is a tree in Winterthur.  They got way more snow than we did in Basel.  I had to carry my bass through 4 inches of slush.  It wasn't ideal.  Also my shoes are not entirely waterproof.  Alas.

 orchard

Simone wonders why I'm dallying.  Shuko and Zin Young are oblivious.  I stayed the night at Simone's house, which is in the country just outside of Zürich, but only 20 minutes by bus/train from the city center.  She's got this view from her window:

Wow!  Also there are 15 Icelandic ponies down the road a bit.  And some dairy cows.  And quite a lot of quiet. 
My mom arrives in a day and a half.  She brings with her many things from the glorious land of the United States, including a pair of gloves sent by the Jacksons, as a response to what I thought was a fairly amusing photo series, Floppy Mittens:

I'm also looking forward to some tacos, tomatillos in a can, blades for my x-acto knife, jalapeno-stuffed olives (she swears they're good), a new swimsuit, etc.  And a haircut.  And her souffle recipe.  And family for the holidays!  I'm working on Christmas, but that doesn't mean we're not going to have a good time.

***

zürich at night

Indeed, we ended up having quite a nice time, especially at dinner after my last show in a mysteriously windy and bone-chillingly cold church.  Some fun facts about the Grossmünster: its twin domes have been compared to pepper mills (by that great old jerk, Richard Wagner); it was stripped of all interior decoration (and perhaps insulation and heaters?) during the Reformation (since the Reformers didn't seem to want to have any fun); and it's got these lovely stained-glass windows made by Sigmar Polke out of agate.  See photo.  In addition, there's a special room in the back where lots of old books are kept:

Maybe because he knew the cold was nearly unbearable, the director baked us these little buttery bread things shaped like birds.  Cute!  And delicious.  Those are raisin eyes.  I enjoyed eating them.  My mom ate the little tail part.

Including that last performance on Christmas (while it snowed enthusiastically outside) I've played the piece - Weihnachtsoratorium, the Christmas Oratorio, by Bach - a total of 5 times, not counting rehearsals, with two different groups.  I've gotta say, it's a nice piece and all, but I prefer the Nutcracker.  Two hours of dancing candy!  And I like that the Nutcracker doesn't include a strong religious message.  It's inclusive, especially if you ignore that one part about the giant Christmas tree.  And seriously, who *hasn't* dreamed about dancing candy at one point or another?

Anyhow.  Tonight was the last performance of the Bach.  No more concerts for 2010!  I'm so excited I can't persuade myself to go to bed.  Soon.  Tomorrow we've got some sight-seeing to look forward to, and also some black beans to cook, which will, post haste, be turned into taco-filler.  TACOS TACOS TACOS.


Happy days getting longer, everyone!