Vacation report, part 1: Prague

Charles Bridge

My first day in Prague is now a little hazy. It was hot and I was jetlagged. But I had all day to explore Old Town Square, the Charles Bridge, and Prague Castle, which is more of a massive complex than our modern concept of a castle as a fortress. 

Prague Castle as seen from Charles Bridge

At its center is St. Vitus's Cathedral, which is visible from the bridge and just about any point on the Vltava River. 

St. Vitus' Cathedral at Prague Castle

I walked and walked and walked some more, to the point that whenever I sat down I felt as if I could just fall asleep right there. I took a nap at the hotel before dinner, which helped matters. But after dinner and a bit more wandering around, I returned to the hotel and slept like the dead.  


After breakfast on Saturday I set out for Vysehrad, the remains of the ancient castle on the Vltava. I walked along the river then hiked up the hill to the remains, which command a spectacular view of southern Prague and the neighborhoods across the Vltava.

View of Prague from wall at Vysehrad

At Vysehrad I especially enjoyed the church, built and rebuilt over the centuries to its current Neo-Gothic design, and the cemetery in which Czech luminaries such as Antonin Dvorak and Bedrich Smetana are buried.

The church at Vysehrad

The grave of Antonin Dvorak

Prague's National Marionette Theater is world-renowned for its production of Mozart's Don Giovanni, which originally premiered in Prague conducted by the composer. There are actually two (possibly more) productions in Prague but I found the one that claimed to be the original (with press clippings and photos of world tours to back up the claims).

Prague's National Marionette Theater

I suspect it might be similar to the Ray's Pizza controversy in New York.  The show began with a marionette of Mozart as conductor, leading an unseen orchestra through the overture (the music is recorded).  The overture went a little off the rails, with the "musicians" throwing their music out of the orchestra pit and the music speeding up and slowing down. The opera itself was a delight. All of the marionettes were manipulated expertly and well-choreographed with the music.  There was a naked Don Giovanni for a bath scene and even a bit of implied marionette on marionette action during a seduction. Between scenes Mozart appeared and bumbled around, stumbling into a speaker and drinking from a tiny wine glass. During a rainstorm in a graveyard scene, he even put up an umbrella. And at the end of the opera, after Don Giovanni's demise, I'll just say that the performers tried to get their creations to end the show so we could go home, with humorous results.

I returned to my hotel and packed my bags, preparing for Sunday morning's departure for the Backroads bike tour.  I was excited about getting to see more of the Czech Republic and to meet the people who would share the experience with me.

Please check out my complete set of photos from Prague.

I'm back...

I apologize for the long "dark" period on this blog.  If you've been following me on Twitter (and why aren't you? It's the wave of the future!) then you know I've been on vacation for the past few weeks, on a bike tour of the Czech Republic and Austria.  I had a blast while I was over there.  I enjoyed some of the best days I've ever had on a bike, I saw many, many sites I'd only read about, ate delicious Czech and Austrian food, and drank large amounts of Czech beer and Austrian wine.  I saw a marionette version of Mozart's "Don Giovanni" and heard a bluegrass band sing American classics in Czech.  I saw the excesses of the Habsburgs firsthand.  I ate in a restaurant that Beethoven, Schubert, and Brahms all  frequented.  Over the next week or so I'll have detailed posts about the trip itself and the days I spent in Prague and Vienna before and after the bike tour.  Thank you for waiting out the delay.  Your patience will soon be rewarded.

cheating on my longtime love

It's been out for years, but I've stubbornly refused to try Google Chrome until now.  I love Firefox.  I even helped write a book about it.  But technology moves on and newer products come out, and as a geek I should make the effort to test them if I can.  So far my experience has been favorable.  Chrome imported all of my bookmarks and saved logins, so I don't even have to retype passwords in the new browser.  It does load faster than Firefox.  Chrome also uses less RAM than Firefox, but that's not a major selling point for me since I have 4 GB on my MacBook Pro and I don't usually run low on memory.

I'm going to continue using Chrome on one of my PCs at work (which only has 1.5 GB of RAM) the rest of the week and see if I notice any other benefits or drawbacks.  I don't think I'm prepared to leave Firefox behind, especially with version 4.0 coming soon.  But I'm open to experimentation.

"From Russia With Love:" Summertime Classics with the New York Philharmonic

The New York Philharmonic's Summertime Classics concert series isn't the type of performance I would normally seek out. They play "greatest hits" like overtures, opera arias, waltzes, and popular concertos that have been over-programmed for years.  But I had an extra ticket from last Saturday's concert that I had to use, so I exchanged it for Tuesday evening's all-Russian program, conducted by Bramwell Tovey and featuring the young Russian violinist Mikhail Simonyan.

At first glance, I didn't recognize anyone in the Philharmonic.  Was I in the right concert hall?  It looked like all of the regular string, wind, and brass principals had the night off.  For a moment I wondered if this was the Philharmonic's "B" squad.  I wouldn't fault the orchestra if it were; the subscription season ended on Saturday, and everyone deserves a vacation.  Then I noticed a few regular string players and a couple of horns I knew and felt more at home.  The audience was a bit more casual than the usual Philharmonic crowd.  While there were a few men and women who appeared overdressed for the occasion (suits and slinky cocktail dresses) there were many other people who were well-underdressed.  I saw more jeans and polo shirts than ever before.  In that way it looked more like a typical Broadway musical audience than a Philharmonic one. 

Mr. Tovey served as conductor and host, and he excelled in both roles.  As a conductor, he led the orchestra with energy and vigor and looked like he was having the time of his life.  As host, he said a few words about each piece on the program and cracked a few jokes about the music and his British heritage.  I expected his banter to be cheesy, tired old jokes but he was light and engaging.  And the audience loved him. 

The program opened with Prokofiev's March and Scherzo from The Love of Three Oranges, followed by Tchaikovsky's Violin Concerto, superbly played by Simonyan.  He's only 24 and his reading reflected his age.  It was a little rough in a few places and he and the orchestra were not always completely together.  But Simonyan's performance was exciting and he added a few touches that made the piece his own, such as taking a bit of extra time in certain places.  The work is flashy but lyrical, and he found a happy medium between the two extremes.  The audience roared its approval and Simonyan responded with a colorful gypsy melody for an encore.

The second half of the program began with selections from Alexander Glazunov's ballet Raymonda. The Philharmonic hadn't played this music in nearly forty years, and I always enjoy hearing the orchestra play something with which they're not readily familiar.  I've heard some of Glazunov's music before, but the opening to this piece sounded like the music of Richard Strauss before it settled into a more familiar Slavic tonality.  The concert closed with Tchaikovsky's Marche Slave, a rousing ode to Russian soldiers going off to fight in Serbia in 1876.  While it's the lesser-known cousin of the much more famous 1812 Overture, the work is full of its own patriotic melodies, and under Tovey's baton the Philharmonic played it with all the nationalistic fervor it deserves. 

I don't know if I would go to a Summertime Classics concert again, but I'm glad I went to this one.  I understand the appeal.  They're performances for a more casual audience, one that's less familiar with the classical repertoire.  In that respect they're not really my thing.  I'd recommend them for a prospective listener who wants to hear the Philharmonic play "popular" classical music in a fun, friendly atmosphere. 

Lindberg and Beethoven with the New York Philharmonic

Saturday night was the final concert of the New York Philharmonic's 2009-2010 season. I was there in spirit for opening night and I thought I should be there for the closing night as well. The fact that Beethoven's Missa Solemnis was on the program didn't hurt.

The first work on the program was a new piece by the Philharmonic's composer-in-residence, Magnus Lindberg. I have a difficult time judging new music by modern composers. I have no frame of reference and I'm often afraid that it's going to be inaccessible toot-whistle-plunk-boom noise. But I've enjoyed the other Lindberg works that the Philharmonic presented this season and I was pleased with this one as well. Lindberg's music is modern but tonal. He favors energetic, frenetic passages, heavy on percussion. Al Largo reminded me of a film score, with its consonant brass fanfares and melodic lines in the strings. It didn't leave me with anything I could hum later, but it was a work that I'd gladly listen to a second time.

The major work of the concert was Beethoven's Missa Solemnis. The piece is from the same period in Beethoven's career as the Ninth Symphony and his last three piano sonatas. It's what musicians refer to as “late Beethoven.” It's more complex in tonality and harmony than his earlier symphonies, even the Ninth Symphony. The melodies are more elaborate and the interplay among the choir, soloists and orchestra is more intricate than anything in the Ninth. I know the music and I've even heard it in concert before, but I hadn't heard it quite like this. The Philharmonic projected the English translation of the Latin Mass above the orchestra, so we could all follow along with the text. Reading the words gave the piece more of a religious intensity than one would get from just listening to the performance. There were a few times in the performance that I felt almost like I was in church.  I also had to smile as I listened to the multiple false endings in the Gloria and Agnus Dei sections. They reminded me of a conversation I had with my father many years ago as I was listening to Beethoven's Third Symphony for the first time. My father poked his head in my room and said “the Eroica? Wait until you get to the end. Beethoven couldn't figure out how to end it, so he kept writing.”

The audience gave the Philharmonic and the performers a rousing standing ovation, one that I thought was well deserved. And again Alan Gilbert received the loudest applause of all. I've been thoroughly impressed with everything he's done in his first year as music director. I'm already looking forward to next season and how he'll challenge the orchestra. The New York Philharmonic is on the rise.

Yes, I'm taking the morning off to watch USA vs. Algeria

I've been watching the World Cup games at my desk while working, but I learned last Friday that it's much more difficult to pay attention to my job when I have an interest in the game.  I had a staff meeting during the second half of USA vs. Slovenia, and so I was more than a little distracted.  With two games in the USA's group at 9:30 AM today, I thought it best to use a half day and watch the game at home.

If the USMNT advances and we play again while I'm at work, I don't know what I'll do.  Why can't they schedule these games around my job?  Why should I have to change my plans?

Summer School with Steven Van Zandt

On Wednesday night I had the opportunity to hear Steven Van Zandt of the E Street Band (and "The Sopranos") give a lecture at City Winery.  eMusic sponsored the event, the first in what I hope is a series of lectures and other gatherings for members of the music download service.  They billed it as a discussion of Van Zandt's ideas of what makes a great rock and roll band.  That concept initially sounded a little weak, content-wise, but I was intrigued enough to respond to the invitation anyway.  Who doesn't like free drinks and the chance to listen to a music legend?

There was a small crowd at the event, under 100 people.  Van Zandt talked for about a half-hour about the value of arrangers in rock music.  The lecture was much more interesting than I expected.  He said that all aspiring rock musicians start out as arrangers, as they learn how to play other people's music, and that being a great arranger makes you a better songwriter.  He illustrated his points with audio clips of Chuck Berry originals and The Rolling Stones' covers of those songs (some of which sounded like bootlegs from Van Zandt's collection), then he moved on to Bob Dylan and covers of his songs, and so on through the 1950s, 1960s, and 1970s.  He argued that the period from 1951 to 1971 amounted to a rock and roll renaissance.  And he said that the introduction of CDs was a scam, and that "digital music sounds so fucking bad."  I thought that was an interesting opinion considering who paid for the event.

After his talk, my friend Jessica and I went up to Van Zandt and chatted with him for a few minutes.  We thanked him for the lecture and he said that he thought it went well since he wasn't sure who the audience would be or how the material would be received.  Then we told him we are aspiring rock musicians ourselves, as a bassist and drummer, respectively.  When he heard this Van Zandt looked wary.  His eyes widened.  We thanked him again and moved along to allow others to greet him.  A moment later Jessica turned to me and said "I think he thought we wanted him to listen to our demo tape."  To our credit, we thought we looked really old for people trying to break into the business.

For more coverage of Wednesday's event, check out the Twitter hashtag #emusicsvz.  Several eMusic members, including me, live-tweeted the lecture and caught some of Van Zandt's other points that I may have missed.  I hope eMusic does other events like this one, because it's a fun way to meet other members, learn about music, and enjoy food and swag.  I'm glad I came back to the service after a brief break last year.  I just can't quit you, eMusic.

USA vs. England in the World Cup, or A blogger divided against himself cannot stand

I'm an American.  While I'm not a “love it or leave it” kind of patriot, I love my country.  It has its problems but it's my home.  My father, on the other hand, was born in England.  He is now as American as any other guy I know, and if you met him you'd have a tough time figuring out that he isn’t originally from here.  (In fact, I'm not sure he's even aware the World Cup is taking place this month.)  I still have family living in England.  And it’s one of my favorite countries to visit.  I’ve always had a special affection for the land of my paternal ancestors.

So I have a dilemma when it comes to the World Cup and the USA vs. England match on June 12.  I want to see Team USA win the game, but I also want to see England do well in the tournament.  They haven't won the Cup since 1966, and I do enjoy seeing long championship droughts come to an end.  I think England has a much better shot at winning the World Cup than most teams, and certainly a better chance that we do.  However, I can't root against my home country and live with myself in the morning.  As Stephen Colbert used to say, “Pick a side!  We're at war!”

I'll cheer for Team USA on Saturday.  But I have to approach the match as if it were an NFL game with my favorite team playing against the quarterback on my fantasy football team.  If Team USA wins, I'll scare the neighbors with my screams of joy.  I'm sure they remember my enthusiasm for Team USA in the Olympic hockey tournament.  But if England takes us down I'm not going to be too disappointed.  Besides, with Algeria and Slovenia in our group, Team USA and England should both advance to the championship round.  Depending on the seeding, I can always hope for a rematch.

Blogs With Balls 3.0

Blogs with Balls was about what I expected as a conference. I met people I'd only known online prior to the weekend. I got to enjoy a bit of Chicago. And I got to hear from some smart, funny writers and media experts.  But there are a few things about the event that could be improved. 

Chicago hotel issues

I'm glad they had the event in Chicago, since it gave me an excuse to get out of New York for the weekend and visit a city I hadn't been to since 2003. But they could have checked to see what else was going on in town before scheduling the event for last weekend. There was a major oncology conference in the city at the same time and that event took up all the hotel rooms. People coming to Blogs With Balls had to stay at O'Hare Airport, in Skokie, and who knows where else. Being in far-flung locations meant that we had to consider our travel options wisely or else spend upwards of $30 on cab fare. My friend and panel moderator Amanda and I had rooms at a mediocre hotel near O'Hare that, as she put it, “isn't even convenient for the airport.”

The pre-conference party

Bleacher Report sponsored the pre-conference party at The Fifty/50 in Wicker Park.  The basement room was a little small for the crowd but the beer was cheap and, if you participated in the Guinness pour contest, free. The basement had wi-fi but no cellular service so we could tweet and e-mail but texting was out of the question. In a room full of people who like to stay connected, I think there were more than a few who felt like they were out of touch. It was especially entertaining to watch Game 4 of the Stanley Cup Final in a room full of Chicago Blackhawks fans. Unfortunately, the Flyers won.

Blogs With Balls

The Captain Morgan Club was a great choice for the event itself. It's just outside Wrigley Field so now I can say that I was there, though I'll have to go back for a game to see the stadium itself. It's right on West Addison Street and open-air, so we had a cool breeze blowing through the conference area most of the day. There was a screen with a scrolling live feed of tweets with the #bwb3 hashtag all day long, which served a few purposes. It provided instant feedback on the panelists, both from audience members in person and from people watching on justin.tv. It was also a little distracting as people tried to one-up each other's jokes and be the first to tweet about a particular comment. We'd been promised that there would be wi-fi at the event, but we never got the password so no one could use except the organizers. I heard someone say they were afraid that if we all used the wireless network we'd affect the live video stream. That's a good excuse but only a handful of people had laptops. The rest of us had cell phones. What did they think we were going to do: watch the live video stream? Listen to Pandora? I'm sure there would have been enough bandwidth for everyone. As it was, I got by with AT&T's network, having left my laptop back at the hotel.

The panels themselves were not as interesting as I would have liked. The conference had a strong “who do you write for?” quality, as opposed to “what do you write about?” Some of the panelists represented sports blog networks and it seemed like many of the attendees either wrote for one of those networks or aspired to write for one. In other words, they were professional bloggers or wanted to be professionals. I'm not part of that group. I don't begrudge anyone their ambitions, but I write for the sake of writing. I don't have any dreams of being bought out by Fantasy Sports Ventures or going to work for Yahoo Sports. So when some of the panelists talked about “branding” and touted what their network had to offer over another, I tuned them out. And when the question of how to become a better blogger came up, the answer seemed to be “get better at your writing and you'll be a better writer [and get bought out by a bigger network.]” Thanks, but I didn't need to fly 900 miles to hear that. I learned that in high school.

The highlights of the day, for better or worse, were the ethics panel moderated by Jason McIntyre of The Big Lead and Spencer Hall's panel after lunch on how blogs are changing the game. I like Hall personally and professionally but his moderation style seemed more along the lines of “class clown in charge” and at times it distracted from the discussion. He asked each of his panelists a completely random question that, while funny, didn't have anything to do with the subject of the panel. McIntyre's panel on ethics didn't work at all. Rather than discussing the concept of sports blogs from a legal and ethical viewpoint, McIntyre asked his panelists how they would handle (or handled) a variety of controversial topics, like Tiger Woods and Ben Roethlisberger. When the discussion veered into the subject of writing about unsubstantiated rumors, the consensus was “just do it and try not to get in trouble.” I was especially disappointed that McIntyre showed up for his panel just before it started and didn't stick around after lunch. Fantasy Sports Ventures just paid a “low seven figure” amount for his blog. I think a room full of writers eager to get paid for their work might have benefitted from more of his insight had he stuck around and asked questions of the other panels.

Enough talk -- let's drink!

I didn't pay much attention to the last two panels of the day and from the empty seats I wasn't alone. But that's typical of every conference I've ever attended, tech, sports, or otherwise. By the end of the day, people have had enough of panel discussions or Powerpoint slides and they're ready for something else. In this case, it was the after-party at a bar a few blocks away. The after-party led to an after-after-party at another bar and I was out far past my bedtime, even for a Saturday night. At 2 AM we were at a dive bar drinking Old Style, rehashing the day, telling old stories, and in many cases getting to know people that we'd only known online until that day. And that's really why I went to the conference. From that standpoint, it was a smashing success. I'd go back in a heartbeat for the socializing alone.

We're all writers

My biggest problem at the conference was how to introduce myself. I figured out right away that telling people “I have a personal blog” was a good way to lose their attention. I didn't feel inferior per se, but when the first few people I talked to asked me “who do you write for?” I was unprepared. By the third or fourth time I met someone new, I described my blog by talking about what I wrote about the Steelers, the Penguins, the Olympic hockey tournament, and my plans for the World Cup. That seemed to come out much better and led to more fruitful discussions.

But the central problem remained that the conference seemed geared toward “bigger” writers. I got the feeling that there was no room for the little guy. We've all been little guys at one time or another. Have we forgotten what it was like before we moved from our own blogs to sbnation.com or The Sporting Blog or Deadspin? I don't want to write a blog for a living, at least not right now. But I'd like to hear more about what I could do to improve my writing, aside from “just get better.”

I'd like to thank Don, Kyle and Chris for organizing the weekend's events. It's a massive job and they handled it well and with grace and charm.  I think the event itself is really worthwhile and needs to continue, but the format could use some tweaking. For future events, they might want to consider moving beyond the panel discussion format into smaller group discussions or more focused workshops. There are people who want to hear about where ad dollars are going and then there are people like me who want to focus on writing and analysis. There's room for everyone at this kind of event.

No time for a subject -- I have a flight to catch

I'm on my way to Chicago today for Blogs With Balls 3.0, a sports blogging conference.  I wouldn't call myself a sports blogger; I prefer to think of myself as a blogger who writes about sports occasionally.  But I do write about sports, and I think the conference will be a good excuse to get out of New York for the weekend, meet some like-minded writers, learn more about what's involved in blogging about sports, and have fun in another city.  I'm looking forward to meeting some people whose work I've been reading for years and putting faces to Twitter names.  Don't expect any posts over the weekend (unless I am really inspired late on Saturday night) but there may be live-tweeting on Saturday. 

Incidentally, I'm flying JetBlue for this trip so it's my first chance to see the new Terminal 5 at JFK Airport.  They did a great job.  The security setup is well-designed, there are plenty of shopping options if you're so inclined, and who doesn't love free Wi-Fi?  And the trip out here from the LIRR and the AirTrain was faster than I expected.  It worked out well as a trial run for my vacation later this summer.

Meet the new bass... same as the old bass (well, not quite)

After all the excitement of the bass guitar unboxing, when I actually tried to play the thing I had a problem.  The bass didn't work with the amp I bought.  It didn't take me long to figure out that the bass had active pickups and a 9-volt battery in the back.  I changed the battery (using the one from my smoke detector at first, then with a new one) and tried again, but I still didn't get any sound from the bass.  I took it to the guitar store and tried it on their amps.  I still didn't hear anything.  So I showed it to their guitar technician.  He poked and prodded it with a voltmeter and some other tools for 10 minutes, then said he couldn't tell what was wrong without taking it apart and charging me some real money.  He said that the electronics weren't working and he could replace some of the parts.  But the cost for the repairs would be close to, if not more than, the cost of a new bass guitar, and with no guarantees that the bass would work.  In essence, my bass was DOA.

So I went shopping at the guitar store again.  I spent a few hours in the bass guitar room trying out different 4-string basses.  I even tried the upright electric bass just for kicks.  I settled on a Squier Affinity P-Bass with passive pickups.  Between the amp and the bass and the other assorted equipment I needed, I've spent about $700 on this hobby already and I barely know what I'm doing.  But I found some websites with bass tablature and now I spend my evenings listening to songs on my laptop and playing along as best I can.  I can play 12-bar blues fairly well already.   I played through most of the soundtrack to "The Blues Brothers" on Tuesday night.  On Saturday I tried selections by Green Day, Led Zeppelin, and Rush.  I can play Green Day but John Paul Jones' bass lines are beyond my skills right now, and possibly forever.  The good news is that I have a bass that works and I'm a quick study.  Once I get used to the feel of the instrument and where the notes are, I'm certain I'll be able to play well enough to jam with my friends.  Or hide in the back and not mess them up.

It's the end of the world: Ligeti's "Le Grand Macabre" at the New York Philharmonic

Gyorgy Ligeti's "Le Grand Macabre" is simply the most amazing, bizarre, confusing, debaucherous, and exotic work I've ever heard presented by the New York Philharmonic.  It was a fully-staged operatic production in Avery Fisher Hall, a place where opera usually appears in concert form, if at all.  There are spoilers below, in case you're reading this before Saturday evening's performance.

The costumes were incredible.  The character of Venus, for example, is seven feet tall, so the singer portraying her stood on some sort of stilts.  The videos and other visual and aural effects (house lights, stage lights, brass and choir in the balconies, drums in the back) were exciting flourishes on top of everything else in the production.  But I'm a sucker for things like that.  My favorite part was Nekrotzar's entrance in the second act, as he and members of the chorus and orchestra formed a procession down the aisle of the orchestra level of the hall.  The procession began with almost inaudible music from the back of the hall and built as Nekrotzar approached the stage, surrounded by flag-waving singers and musicians.  By the time he reached the stage, the tension was palpable.

The orchestra shared the stage with the singers and sometimes covered them.  Overall, the female singers were more difficult to hear and understand than the males.  That is my one and only technical complaint.  However, a note in the program indicated that it wasn't Ligeti's intention that the audience understand every word, that the important words would come out when needed.  The Philharmonic included a copy of the opera's libretto in each program, for further reading after the performance.  As for the actors' performances, the Black and White Ministers stole the scenes they were in. They bickered and pranced like so many modern politicians.  Their competition for the ear of their leader, Prince Gogo, was hysterical.  And Prince Gogo himself was fantastic.  He's a tiny, thin baritone in a bulbous costume singing falsetto.  What's not to like?  Countertenor Anthony Roth Costanzo created a completely comedic yet totally believable character of an ineffective, hereditary leader.  And the audience loved Nekrotzar, the figure of Death.  And in a production like this, why not?  Death is the reason for the show.

The music was really peculiar.  Except for a snippet of the "Dies Irae" at the beginning none of it was recognizable. But it was jarring and jangly and yet tuneful and almost beautiful at times. It was also unmistakeably Ligeti.  I heard sounds that I recognized immediately as coming from the composer of elements of the soundtrack to 2001: A Space Odyssey. The musicians of the Philharmonic had never seen this music before but they played it with passion and energy. The percussion were especially notable. They had to play car horns, doorbells, wind machines, and all manner of conventional drums, and they accomplished it all.


And the puppeteers! These performers didn't stop moving for the entire show. They had two puppet theaters on camera and moved effortlessly between them. They showed entire three-dimensional landscapes, an unblinking eye, paper puppets, hilarious text, and even the actors when the scenes called for it. There was a memorable scene where Prince Gogo appears on camera to give a political speech and the chorus sang "Our great leader" over and over, until Gogo ate one of his citizens, one of several paper puppet cutouts that scrolled past him as he talks. The chorus turned against him at that point.  I can't imagine why.

And where would this production be without Alan Gilbert? He held the entire show together from start to finish. The orchestra was right with him, low lighting, crazy noises, distracting actors, and all.  He had to direct musicians onstage and off, in the second tier and in the back of Avery Fisher Hall.  He did it all as if he was born with this piece in his hand. Gilbert never ceases to amaze me with his musical abilities. The audience reserved its loudest and longest ovations for him. If I thought Gilbert could program whatever he wanted before this evening, well, he can really do it now.  He and the Philharmonic pulled off this incredible production and received an audience ovation that I've rarely heard before.  I'm actually going to be a little disappointed to go back in a few weeks for Sibelius and Brahms.  How can this orchestra go back to playing something as simple as a concerto or a symphony after showing this kind of range?

    

The New York Philharmonic promotes Ligeti's "Le Grand Macabre"

Next weekend, the New York Philharmonic will perform a staged version of Gyorgy Ligeti's opera "Le Grand Macabre."  The orchestra started with the hype about the performances when they announced the 2009-10 season last year.  And their efforts have only intensified in the past few weeks.  Two weeks ago I received an e-mail from the Philharmonic with the subject "It's the end of the world as we know it" and without even opening it I knew it had to do with "Le Grand Macabre."  Last week the Philharmonic's Twitter account icon changed to a black and white eye and they created Twitter accounts for several characters in the opera.  The weekly podcast on the opera piqued my interest in the event even further.  But with all of this promotion, I still hadn't decided whether to attend one of the concerts.  The production wasn't part of my original subscription and I didn't want to switch one of my remaining concerts for it.  I decided to wait and see how desperate the Philharmonic was to sell tickets.

I got my answer last Thursday in the form of an e-mail with offers of discounted tickets for Friday and Saturday.  And in this article in Sunday's New York Times I learned why that e-mail went out.  Subscriber interest in the opera has been disappointing.  But single-ticket sales have been up, with signs that at least the first performance would be a sellout.  In addition to the usual podcast and e-mail promotion and the Twitter account silliness, the Philharmonic posted several videos of music director Alan Gilbert interacting with Nekrotzar, one of the characters in the opera.  My personal favorite is, of course, the video of the two playing Guitar Hero.  The Times noted that "it was hard to say whether [the videos] had translated into any ticket sales." 

In another article in Sunday's Times, the paper explored how the Philharmonic plans to stage "Le Grand Macabre" in conjunction with Giants Are Small, a Brooklyn-based production company:

Giants Are Small is a partnership between Mr. Fitch, who is also a visual artist, and the filmmaker and producer Edouard Getaz. Their approach (pretested in “Peter and the Wolf,” “L’Histoire du Soldat” and “Petrouchka” for institutions including the Los Angeles Philharmonic and the National Arts Center Orchestra in Ottawa) combines low-tech puppetry with high-tech video. In “Le Grand Macabre” elaborate costumes for the soloists, whipped up by the four-time Tony winner and Met alumna Catherine Zuber, will add to the pageantry.

 I attended the Philharmonic's performance of Stravinsky's "L'Histoire du Soldat" in 2005 and the production design worked well.  There was a small puppet theater at the front of the stage with the puppeteers visible behind the theater.  A camera in front of the theater captured the action and projected it on a screen above and behind the orchestra and the narrators.  You could watch the puppeteers in action and see the results of their manipulations above them.  And you could also see the conductor and the musicians on stage, hidden in shadow but illuminated by music stand lights, something I'm not used to seeing on stage at Avery Fisher Hall.

All of these marketing efforts worked on me.  I bought tickets for Friday evening's performance.  I'm getting more excited about the opera as I read more about the production.  I have no illusions about the music I'm going to hear: it will be atonal and harsh.  Ligeti isn't the most lyrical of composers.  But "Le Grand Macabre" is the kind of performance that I think I would regret missing if I passed on it.  It's going to be a hell of a spectacle.  When something this unusual comes to town, you have to check it out. 

My other summer project

I'm going to learn how to play bass guitar.

It only took a few nights at open mic nights with James to see how much fun everyone has at those sorts of gatherings.  I think I want to be a part of that, but I'm not going to join in on guitar.  And as intriguing as it might be, I'm not going to do it on viola either.  I've always been a fan of bassists, especially John Paul Jones and John Entwistle, and I thought that bass guitar would be an easy way to get involved.  You stand at the back next to the drummer, play "thumpa-thumpa-thumpa" and enjoy being a part of a band. 

The first problem was where to get a bass.  I thought about buying one, new or used.  But that's a big expense for a hobby I'm not certain I'm going to like.  I don't know anyone who has a bass they could loan to me.  My brother had a bass that he bought when he was in high school, but he'd lent it to my cousin in Boston many years ago.  After some consideration and consultation, I contacted my cousin about getting the bass from her.  She never responded, so I checked with her sister.  She said it was fine to take it.  My uncle said it was OK with him as well.

I looked into going to Boston to get the bass guitar but we couldn't work out our schedules.  That's when my uncle offered to ship the bass to me.  He said they had a large box and that it would be easier than having me shlep the bass on the train or in a car.  On Thursday he e-mailed me to say that the bass guitar was on its way and to look for a large box at my office.

On Friday the mail room called to say a large box had arrived for me.  A few hours later they dropped it off at my desk.  I knew it would be big, but I wasn't expecting something that looked like it could have a body in it.

It's hard to tell from the photo, but the box is about five feet long.  The box was full of foam packing peanuts and I knew I'd have a massive mess on my hands if I just dragged the case out of the box.  My co-workers came over to see what all the excitement was and we found a way to get the bass out without spilling too many peanuts.  Two of them held a trash bag over the open box while I tipped it upside down.  Everything spilled out into the bag, leaving me with a bass guitar case wrapped in packing foam.

A few snips with a box cutter and I had the case out. 

Finally, I checked the bass guitar itself.  It was in about the same condition as when I'd last seen it, when I came home from college in December 1993 or 1994.  It wasn't even that out of tune.  Another colleague played a few notes and pronounced it in fine shape.

I shlepped the instrument home on the subway and decided right away that the hard case has to go.  I'll keep it for storage and long-distance travel, but if I'm going to carry this thing around the city, I need a lightweight bag with a shoulder strap.  I also need an amp of some kind so I can hear what I'm playing.  I've gotten some tips on where to get one and what to shop for.  And finally, I need to learn how to play it.  I know what the strings are so I have a basic idea of the notes it can play.  But I have no idea where to begin.  I'm tempted to just try playing along with some of my favorite records, starting with easy three-chord rock and blues.  I don't need to be John Entwistle just yet.  Besides, that would involve a cocaine habit that would ultimately kill me.  Maybe I should find a different role model.

Who should I root for?

With the Penguins' loss in the second round of the Stanley Cup playoffs, I'm wondering who I should root for in the Eastern Conference. I debated this issue with my college friends a long time ago. I was upset that the Islanders had upset the Penguins in the second round of the 1993 playoffs and I wanted to see them crushed in the next round. But my friends argued that I should want to see the team that beat my team win the title. That way, they said, I could take comfort in the fact that my team lost to the eventual champion.

So which is better? To see the team that ended your season defeated in the next round, so that their fans may know your pain? Or would you rather see that team hoist the trophy and celebrate, knowing that you lost to a champion?

There's always a third option: don't watch the rest of the playoffs and try to forget the whole thing happened. So far that's the course I've chosen. 

It took 15 years, but I'm finally a regular

Since NYRO moved to our new home at the Church of St. Mary The Virgin on 46th Street, we've enjoyed weekly post-rehearsal libations at St. Andrews, the Scottish bar across the street from the church.  We usually drink at the upstairs bar because it's quieter and there's more room for a dozen or so people with musical instrument cases.  I've developed a taste for Scotch, particularly Laphroaig.  Each week I usually have a glass or two of Laphroaig with a glass of water on the side.

Also, because I'm an Internet geek, I've been on Foursquare since February and the "mayor" of St. Andrew's since early March.  One evening, we shared this information with our bartender, Donald, and he was not impressed by my status.  And my friends in the orchestra have enjoyed ribbing me about this dubious distinction.  To add insult to injury, I've always wanted to walk into a bar and say "I'll have the usual" and have a drink ready for me.  So a few weeks ago I got to the bar and asked Donald "if I ordered 'the usual,' would you know what that was?"  He said no, and my friends laughed.  And I felt shame. 

But everything changed last night.  When I walked up to the bar Donald was waiting for me with a Laphroaig and water.  I don't think that's ever happened to me before, not even back in the day when James was tending bar at Chadwick's in Georgetown and my friends and I drank there nearly every weekend.  I can't recall him pouring me a Sierra Nevada as I walked in the door.  At last, in the waning days of the NYRO season, I've been recognized.

So here's to you, Donald.  Thank you for making me feel like a big shot for one night.  It's too bad next week is our last rehearsal of the season and our Thursday night drinking sessions will take the summer off.  I will have to go back there a few times over the summer and try to maintain my office and its privileges.

Watching hockey games with a group

Last year, every game I saw of the Pittsburgh Penguins' Stanley Cup playoff run I watched at home by myself.  It was great having total control of the food, drink, and TV, but when we scored and won games I had no one with whom to celebrate.

This season I've been watching some of the playoff games at Foley's in Herald Square.  It's the home base for the NY Pittsburgh Penguins meetup group.  I've met some great people, talked hockey, reminisced about Pittsburgh, and watched the Penguins.  I tried watching some Steeler games at a bar near my apartment last fall and while that was fun, somehow it felt like more of an effort.  Maybe it was all the beer drinking on a Sunday afternoon, something I'm not used to doing.  And the group at that bar didn't feel all that welcoming of newcomers.  But the Penguins fans at Foley's have been friendly and engaging.  Tonight is game 7 of the conference semifinals against Montreal, and I wouldn't miss watching it at the bar.  There will be some live-tweeting.  I'd live-blog the entire game, but it's hard enough to avoid spilling beer on my phone.  I'm sure my laptop wouldn't survive the night.

Let's Go Pens!

NYRO's season finale: Kodaly, Strauss, and Debussy

The New York Repertory Orchestra's final concert of the year, on Saturday, May 22, 2010, features music that is exuberant, moving, dramatic, soulful, and absolutely gorgeous! Music by Zoltán Kodály, Richard Strauss, and Claude Debussy is on the program for a great finish to our best and biggest season ever!

Also, internationally acclaimed soprano Jennifer Grimaldi joins us, making her NYRO debut!

The program begins in fine style, with the virtuoso musicians of NYRO showing their stuff in Zoltán Kodály's extroverted Concerto for Orchestra. Then, star soprano Jennifer Grimaldi joins us as soloist in Richard Strauss' exquisite Four Last Songs.

The program (and season) ends with the riotous sounds of Claude Debussy's groundbreaking score,La Mer.

• Date: Saturday, May 22, 2010
• Time: 8:00 pm
• Place: Church of St. Mary the Virgin (145 West 46th Street)
• Admission: FREE

Go to www.nyro.org for more information!

Here's the full program:

• Kodály: Concerto for Orchestra
• Strauss: Four Last Songs - Jennifer Grimaldi, soprano
• Debussy: La Mer (The Sea)
• 
  

David Leibowitz, Conductor

----More about our Guest Artist----Internationally acclaimed soprano Jennifer Grimaldi has been hailed as "a compelling and commanding singing actress with a silvery timbre that sparkles and shines" (Danbury Times News) and is a promising young talent on the opera, concert, and recital stage.

Ms. Grimaldi recently made her European solo debut with the Charlemagne Orchestra (Belgium) as featured soloist in Mendelssohn's Elijah. She has sung leading roles with many opera companies, including the Utah Festival Opera, Sarasota Opera, Brevard Music Festival, Intermezzo Opera Festival, and Raylynmor Opera, among others.

In 2011, Ms. Grimaldi will be a featured soloist in Mahler's Symphony No. 8 with the Mineria Orchestra (Mexico City) under the direction of Maestro Carlos Miguel Prieto. Other recent orchestral solo engagements include performances with the Queens Symphonic Orchestra, New Amsterdam Baroque Orchestra, and the Third Street Music Settlement Orchestra. 

My summer project for the viola

I needed to buy new rosin for my viola bow (the stuff I had was terrible) and I couldn't spend just $3 on an online order with Shar, so I went looking for something else to buy.  I looked through the accessories but I didn't need anything else.  Then I remembered that I wanted something new to keep my skills in shape this summer, and bought something that I've been meaning to get for a long time.  I've had the viola transcriptions of Bach's Six Suites for solo cello since high school but I'm getting tired of playing those. So I bought Bach's Six Sonatas and Partitas for violin transcribed for viola.

I love these pieces on the violin and I've had my eye on the viola version for a long time.  But I've always considered these suites far beyond my skill level.  And to be honest, they are.  My formal viola training ended long before I had a chance to learn how to do things like double stops (playing on two or more strings at the same time) the right way.  But the faster movements are not as impossible as I initially thought.  I played through a couple of movements last week and while I'm not going to perform them in public anytime soon, I might actually be able to enjoy learning them on my own.  Sadly, I fear the Chaconne from the Partita No. 2 will long remain out of my grasp.  And my favorite, the Prelude to Partita No. 3, is also nearly impossible for me to play until I learn how to cross strings effectively.  My brother asked me last night how many summers this project would last.  I replied "as many as it takes."

Last night his girlfriend sent me a recording of these suites played on the viola, so I have a better idea of what these pieces are supposed to sound like when a professional plays them.  I love the deeper, fuller sound of the viola, though the violist, Scott Slapin, plays them a bit more conservatively than Henryk Szeryng plays them on the violin. However, conservative isn't a bad goal for me.  I've never been a flashy performer so I could do worse than take a more relaxed approach to these pieces.

The new rosin is working out well, in case anyone was wondering.

All Stravinsky, all the time with the New York Philharmonic

I went to the NY Philharmonic's concert on April 24 with Valery Gergiev and the Mariinsky Theater Chorus performing an all-Stravinsky program.

The first piece, the music from the ballet Jeu de Cartes, depicts a card game.  I didn't have a chance to look at the program notes before the concert started so I just listened to the music.  The opening reminded me of Copland's music and the inner sections of the work just sounded frenetic. It wasn't until intermission when I read the program notes and saw that the piece included a number of dance interludes and that the recurring main theme indicated the number of "deals" of cards in the card game.

The second piece was Symphony of Psalms, a choral setting of three psalms with an unusual orchestration of winds, brass, and lower strings (no violins or violas).  The harmonies in this piece were far more atonal than anything of Stravinsky's that I've heard before.  The choral parts reminded me of Bernstein's "Chichester Psalms" though that might have been more of a mood than a musical reference.  The Mariinsky Theater Chorus gave the Latin text an ethereal feeling that echoed the religious fervor of the words. 

The highlight of the program was the complete score to Stravinsky's ballet The Firebird.  I've played one of the Firebird suites and I've heard various arrangements of the music, but I'd never heard the complete ballet until Saturday evening.  The ballet features much more music that enhances and expands the story of the Prince, the princesses, the Firebird, and Kastchei.  In addition, the full score employs a massive orchestra with extra winds, offstage trumpets, Wagner horns, and a battery of percussion.  I enjoyed listening for the music that was familiar to me and the buildups that sometimes led to parts less familiar.  It's always a treat for me to watch the brass section preparing to play, and when the percussionists stood up I knew something exciting was about to happen.  These are the things I miss when I play in an orchestra and focused on my own music.  There was a massive brass crescendo that I thought would lead into the "Infernal Dance" (one of my favorite parts of the ballet), and in fact the trombones and trumpets played part of the theme of the dance, but then the crescendo led into another scene.  But when the orchestra finally exploded into the "Infernal Dance" and the trombones blasted away, I was grinning.  And the final apotheosis gave me chills.  The audience was on its feet within seconds of the end of the concert and gave Gergiev a well-deserved ovation. 

Gergiev conducted without a baton and often seemed to be cuing the orchestra and controlling the type of sound rather than marking time with his hands.  Where some conductors favor broad, sweeping gestures and flowery movements of the baton, Gergiev kept his expressiveness to a minimum.  He gave cues, wiggling his fingers at the musicians, and kept time in only the grandest parts of the score and focused on individuals throughout the rest of the music.  It was a theatrical kind of conducting rather than musical.  With the energy he drew from the musicians, I thought that Alan Gilbert and the Philharmonic's management had made an excellent choice in selecting Gergiev to direct the Stravinsky festival.  I'm sure his interpretation of The Rite of Spring in a few weeks will be outstanding.

Classical music news: Lincoln Center and Philharmonic extend deal, Avery Fisher renovations still on hold

The NY Times reported on Monday that the New York Philharmonic and Lincoln Center had extended their agreement on Avery Fisher Hall, the orchestra's home.  According to the Times, the extension gives both sides more time to work out renovation plans for the hall.  They had a design in place in 2005 but never started on the work.  This extension pushes back any renovation plans for the hall for another few years while everyone involved haggles over the extent of the work and the cost.  From the article:

Lincoln Center and the Philharmonic have each appointed a subcommittee to address these issues over the next three years. In the meantime, both groups have agreed to proceed with plans for some possible short-term upgrades to Avery Fisher, like repaired elevators and seat upholstery.
“We’re going to make the auditorium as pleasing as we can for artists and for audiences, even as we work through the future of the hall,” Mr. Levy said.

Well, that is welcome news.  Ever since I became a subscriber three years ago I've been waiting for news of Avery Fisher Hall's renovation.  The auditorium is in serious need of an overhaul.  My seats alone are so worn out that I've thought about bringing some of those stadium cushions used for bleacher seats.  I have trouble sitting there for more than two hours for a concert.  I can't imagine how bad it can be for people older and in worse shape than I am.  I love listening to the orchestra in that hall (and I don't have any issues with the acoustics) but I'm ready to see Lincoln Center spend some time and money to update the hall.  Even if it's just minor upgrades, anything would be an improvement over what's in there now.

I wonder where the Philharmonic would play while Avery Fisher is closed.  When I lived in Washington, DC and had season tickets to the National Symphony Orchestra, the Kennedy Center renovated the Concert Hall over the course of about eight months.  The NSO played an abbreviated season in the Concert Hall and played other concerts at other venues in the city, like Constitution Hall.  I don't see the Philharmonic cutting its season short in any way, so they'd have to play elsewhere.  But there aren't many other concert halls in New York that aren't booked years in advance.  The logistics of a move like this, especially a temporary one, must be unimaginably complicated.  I'm having trouble imagining them.

If this is the new iPhone, I'll keep my old one

Gizmodo has a scoop on what appears to be the next iPhone.  Gadget sites have posted blurry screenshots of new toys before.  This isn't a hazy third-hand report of something that may or may not be a real phone.  This is an actual prototype phone someone found in a bar in California.  Gizmodo's writers took the thing apart and confirmed that it has Apple hardware inside and a general Apple hardware feel to the outside.  Apple remotely "killed" the phone before the editors could play with the OS but everything else they were able to do indicated that it's as close as we'll get in April to a new iPhone slated for a June release.  It's as thorough a dissection of a prototype gadget that I've ever seen from a blog.

What makes me happy about this information is that there's not much in their analysis that makes me feel that I'll need to get my hands on a new iPhone this summer.  I'm really happy with the iPhone 3GS I bought last July.  I don't want to be one of those people who has to get the newest phone as soon as it's released every year.  I bought my 3GS with the intention of keeping it for two years.  From what I've seen of the new iPhone, I'll be happy with my old phone and the iPhone OS 4.0 upgrade when it's released later this year.

How I remember Allen Iverson

This evening I watched ESPN's "30 For 30" documentary on Allen Iverson, "No Crossover: The Trial of Allen Iverson" directed by Steve James of Hoop Dreams fame.  The movie is superbly done, focusing on the racial divide in Iverson's hometown of Hampton, VA and the events surrounding Iverson's involvement in a 1993 brawl in a bowling alley that resulted in his spending four months in prison.  Iverson, of course, went to Georgetown University after his release and went on a successful career in the NBA.  But it's his time at Georgetown that I think about when I hear Iverson's name.

I was a freshman at Georgetown when I heard about the brawl and the subsequent trial.  At the time I didn't even know where Hampton, VA, was.  I assumed it was somewhere south of DC (which it is, on a peninsula in the Chesapeake Bay).  I didn't have an opinion of the trial, Iverson's conviction, or his release and pardon by then-Governor Douglas Wilder.  But shortly after Iverson's release we heard that Georgetown coach John Thompson was trying to get Iverson to come to Georgetown.  Even then, I thought that Iverson was just another one of Thompson's reclamation projects.  I don't think anyone I knew cared about his past or worried about how he'd affect the team. 

I didn't realize what kind of talent we had on our team until his first few games as a freshman in 1994.  He was unlike anyone I'd ever seen play basketball.  The way he threw himself into games was unreal.  He could make shots out of nothing.  I only went to one game in person during his time at Georgetown, an ugly, foul-filled game against Boston College, and I don't remember anything specific about Iverson other than his energy and incredible shots.  When the Hoyas played in the 1996 NCAA Tournament, I had high hopes that Iverson would lead us to a championship.  It didn't happen, but he took us for an unforgettable ride.

My only other encounter with Iverson happened a few months later, after Iverson announced that he would leave Georgetown two years early to enter the NBA draft.  My mother was in town for a visit and we were walking from campus to M Street.  As we crossed Prospect Street, a luxury car stopped short about ten feet from us.  I don't remember exactly but I'm fairly certain we had the right of way, though I will admit we might have been jaywalking.  I looked at the driver and it was Allen Iverson.  It was as close as I would ever get to our superstar player.  He and I made eye contact for a second.  As we walked away, I said to my mom, "You know, that was Allen Iverson who nearly ran us over just now."  We thought it was funny.  And no, this isn't the first time I've told this story.  It probably won't be the last, either.

Yes, we really did need a solo album from Slash

I may be a classical music snob, but I've also got a weakness for glam metal from the '80s.  Earlier this week  I heard on Twitter that Slash from Guns 'N Roses had just released a solo album.  I had to get it from Amazon as soon as humanly possible, which was about an hour, or as long as it took me to finish my workout and run home.  (Yes, I check my Twitter stream while I'm at the gym. I have an iPhone and I'm not afraid to use it.)

The album has shades of Slash's recent work with Velvet Revolver mixed with riffs from his Guns 'N Roses days.  The songs are throwbacks to the kind of music GnR used to make but updated and processed for 2010.  By no means do they sound as raw as "Appetite for Destruction;" they're closer in style to "Use Your Illusion," but without Axl Rose's overwrought drama and pathos.  Rather than use one lead singer, Slash showcases 13 different artists, including Fergie, Ian Astbury, Kid Rock, and Iggy Pop.  Some work better than others.  Ozzy Osbourne sounds out of place with Slash's music, but Ian Astbury and Myles Kennedy fit right into his style.  I never thought Fergie would be able to rock out like she does on "Beautiful Dangerous."  And I like Chris Cornell's song "Promise" better than just about everything he did with Audioslave. 

The album doesn't sound so much like a cohesive whole as it does an all-star assortment of songs, but who cares?  I like Slash's style.  I don't think he made this album to impress critics or make new fans.  The man doesn't need the money.  He made an album because he could, and he wrote the music he wanted to write.  And as a fan whose musical tastes haven't evolved far beyond what I liked in 1992, I wholeheartedly approve.

No matter what, the album puts Axl's "Chinese Democracy" to shame. 

Cycling started early this year

With the recent weeks of gorgeous weather, I've been able to get my bike out of the storage room and onto the streets earlier than ever.  In past years the bike hasn't come out until the middle of April.  But I went for my first weekend rides the third weekend in March and my first weekday morning rides this week.  I'm already at 122 miles for the year.  I doubt the weather will cooperate through all of April but I'm off to a good start.  My winter regimen of cardio seems to have kept me in decent shape.  I haven't felt sluggish or slow.  I've decided to tweet my bike mileage all year as I remember to do it.  So follow me on Twitter if you want to know how many miles I rode last weekend or my insights on a variety of subjects not related to cycling.

I'm going to need all this early cycling work if I want to ride well this summer.  My summer vacation will be a cycling tour from Prague to Vienna.  I've always wanted to see both cities and I found several companies that run tours from one to the other.  I'll be in Europe for ten days in July, six of them on a bike exploring the Czech and Austrian countryside.  It's the trip Mozart would have made if he'd had a bike.

I'll see you at Blogs With Balls 3.0

I bought a ticket and booked a flight to Chicago for Blogs With Balls 3.0.  I guess this means I'm a sports blogger now. 

Actually, I have a few reasons for attending.  One, I skipped BwB 1.0 when it was here in New York last summer.  I should have gone but I considered it for weeks before deciding that I'm not enough of a sports blogger to make the cost worthwhile.  Then of course I heard about how much fun the entire event was and I regretted passing on it.  So I'll make up for it this time.

Another reason for going is to see friends that I've made online who write about sports and haven't seen in person in a long time, or in some cases, ever.  And while I don't write exclusively about sports, I think that some of the topics at the conference could apply to the subjects I do write about, like music.

Finally, I don't take enough vacations, so a weekend trip to Chicago for a sports blogging conference is as good an excuse as any to get out of town for a couple of days.

Now I just need a hotel room or someone willing to let me sleep on their couch.

I'm not the next McG yet, but he had to start somewhere too

Last Friday night James played another open mic night for the Brooklyn Guitar School at Hank's Saloon in Brooklyn.  Once again I served as his videographer, roadie, and sole groupie. 

He opened his set with "Academy Fight Song" by Mission From Burma:



Next up was his latest original song from the guitar school's songwriting class, entitled "Don't Ask Me Now:"



Having been subjected to a Big Star playlist on a road trip to DC a few years ago, I knew James would either sing a Big Star song or pay tribute to the late Alex Chilton in some way.  He went with "Alex Chilton" by The Replacements.



As he came off the stage I held onto his guitar for a few moments while he found his case.  Later, when another band, the creatively named "The Jailhouse Cocks," needed a spare cable, James lent them one and asked me to collect it when they were done as he had to leave.  It's all part of the job of being a hanger-on for an up-and-coming singer/songwriter.  It also meant I got to stick around to hear The Jailhouse Cocks as well as Postacockalypse and Satan's Scrotum (though I think their real name was The Professionals, and they were a kick-ass ZZ Top cover band).  It was that kind of night at Hank's.

A night at the opera at BAM

I took some time out from watching basketball and enjoying the fantastic weather in New York this weekend to go to the Brooklyn Academy of Music for Les Arts Florissants' productions of Charpentier's Acteon and Purcell's Dido and Aeneas. It was two operas for the price of one.  How could I say no?

Marc-Antoine Charpentier's one-act opera Acteon opened the program.  Both operas were early Baroque compositions, so the orchestra included a theorbo, a viola da gamba, a violone, and recorders and flutes as well as violins, cellos and a harpsichord.  Music Director William Christie conducted from the harpsichord.  The opera was in French with English supertitles above the stage.  While the production was beautiful to watch and hear, the story seemed too short for even a one-act opera.  It was over before I had a chance to become interested in the action.  It didn't help that the three cups of coffee I'd had earlier in the day started to wear off when I got to the theater, so I nodded off for a few minutes here and there.

Henry Purcell's Dido and Aeneas was a much more compelling story.  The opera was performed in English so the story was a bit easier to follow.  While both stories are tragic, Dido featured some comic relief in the character of the sorceress's elf, who clowned around during one extended chorus.  The sorceress (who had also appeared in Acteon) also shimmied around on stage with what were clearly modern dance moves. Near the end of the opera, Dido chastises Aeneas for choosing to obey what he believes are orders from the gods and leave her.  When he offers to stay, saying he will defy the gods to be with her, she rejects him.  It may have been a story from Virgil's Aeneid, but the way couples fight hasn't changed much in 2000 years.  Throughout both operas, the singers and musicians of the company were spectacular.  In particular, Sonya Yoncheva as Dido was excellent.  Her aria "When I am laid in earth" at the end of the opera was beautiful and chilling. 

The New York Philharmonic with Muti and Repin

I was going to write a review of Wednesday evening's concert by the New York Philharmonic. Then I read the New York Times' review in Thursday's paper. I can't disagree with or add much to anything Allan Kozinn had to say about the performance. My friend Karyn came with me and she's played Beethoven's violin concerto before. She said that the piece is unforgiving in terms of length and technical skill. It's like a Mozart concerto in that it requires precise degrees of intonation and delicacy, but it's so long and monumental that it demands a tremendous amount of stamina from the soloist. Vadim Repin showed that he has the talent to play the work but his intonation wasn't always accurate and the entire concerto sounded under-rehearsed. Though like a good Guitar Hero player who uses “star power” at just the right time to boost his score, Repin won me over with his renditions of Fritz Kreisler's cadenzas in the outer movements.

I've seen Riccardo Muti with the Philharmonic before but it wasn't until Wednesday night that he struck me as looking like a prototypical conductor. He's tall, thin, and has a thick head of gray hair. His gestures are precise and not too syrupy. While leading the orchestra through Franck's Symphony in D minor, he used his baton like a violin bow, shaking it at the strings as they played tremelo notes, or stabbed it at the brass to open the finale. At the end of the concert the audience gave Muti a long ovation, reminding me that he had the opportunity to be the music director here. Even though he declined the job, New York audiences clearly love him and look forward to his guest appearances.

A day at the Big East Tournament

I took the day off work on Tuesday to watch the first round games of the Big East Tournament live at Madison Square Garden.  My friend Amanda suggested that we should go since we're both college basketball fans and neither of us had been to the tournament before.  I did go to the Georgetown-Pitt Big East final game in 2007, but I'd never gone for the early rounds.  Instead of writing recaps of the games, which you can read elsewhere, I'd rather focus on the things I saw that you don't get to see when you watch the tournament on TV.

First of all, the Garden was mostly empty for the 12 PM opening game and the 9 PM late game.  It filled up in the afternoon for St. John's vs. UConn and again in the evening for Seton Hall-Providence, but the teams from the furthest distances (South Florida, DePaul, and Cincinnati) had the least support.  Rutgers played in the last game of the night vs. Cincinnati and by the end of the game only the bands and a few die-hard fans and basketball junkies were left in the arena.  One thing we learned was that tickets for the tournament are only available through the 16 schools in the conference.  That explains why the only tickets we could find online were on StubHub.  And it explains all the empty seats and why we were able to sit in the 200 level for the evening games instead of our proper seats one level higher up.  There were several thousand no-shows for both the day and evening sessions so we were free to take whatever seats we wanted.  But the fans that did show up for the games got into the spirit.  St. John's fans turned out to see their team trounce UConn.  And the Garden really came to life late in the Seton Hall-Providence game when the Friars went on a 29-4 run to turn a blowout into a nail-biter.

Between the first and second games of each session, we saw a little "battle of the bands" action.  The bands from UConn and St. John's and later Cincinnati and Rutgers took turns playing songs while the other band listened.  Sometimes one band played the same song that the opposite band just played, so we heard dueling versions of "Gimme Some Lovin'" or "Hey Baby."  Cincinnati's band played a rousing "Seven Nation Army," and Rutgers threw some dance moves into their version of "Thriller."  As a former band groupie, I was in musical geek heaven.  It was almost a shame we had to watch some basketball.

During halftime of the first three games, the dance teams from each school would come on the floor for a quick dance-off.  That amounted to the entire halftime show.  But for Cincinnati-Rutgers, there were no dance teams.  Instead, the Cincinnati Bearcat clowned around on the court, shooting free throws until a Garden employee asked him to stop.  I should have shouted "let him play!" or at least gotten a few photos, but by the time I noticed his act, the Bearcat had put his ball away.  Then he disappeared for most of the 2nd half and I wondered what had become of him.  Just as I was about to implore my Twitter followers to send out a search party, he reappeared on the court.  Maybe he was just napping.  It was late in the evening.

Speaking of Twitter, we spent the whole day tweeting constantly about the games and as such we had concerns about whether we'd have enough battery power to get through the evening.  Between sessions we left the Garden in search of a bar or restaurant where we could recharge both physically and electronically.  We eschewed the crowds at Stout and the dark, dank Stitch and found ourselves at Houndstooth NYC on 8th Avenue at 37th Street.  The hostess showed us to a table by the window where we found a four-plug wall outlet behind my chair.  We were saved!  And the beer and food weren't bad either.  The next time I'm near the Garden and looking for a restaurant for a pre-game or -concert meal, Houndstooth will be my first stop.

Muse rocks the Garden

I may have covered this before, but I first discovered Muse through Guitar Hero.  "Knights of Cydonia" was one of the final songs on Guitar Hero III, and I'd never heard of the band or the song before.  But when I played it in the game I thought "these guys rock."  I played the song in the game for James at my Super Bowl party in 2008, but he seemed unimpressed at the time.  Three weeks later, he arrived early to cook for my Oscar party and plugged his iPod into the speakers in my kitchen.  He put on some music I didn't recognize, so I asked him what it was.  He said it was Muse's album Black Holes & Revelations, and that "Knights of Cydonia" wasn't even the best song on the album.  I was hooked.  I bought the album the next day and acquired the rest of Muse's back catalog shortly thereafter.  They're a rock band, but with symphonic influences, the occasional turn toward pop music and even some funk now and then.  I'm starting to think they were put here on Earth to cater to all of my musical tastes at once.

Last Saturday I was at Madison Square Garden for a Knicks game.  While there, I saw a "coming attractions" poster and noticed that Muse was coming to the Garden on March 5.  I looked at my watch.  This weekend?!  How did I not know about this?  When I got home I got on Stubhub and looked up ticket prices.  They were steep, but there was no way I was going to miss this show.  On Sunday morning I talked to James, who agreed we had to go, and I got the tickets.

The show was this evening (Friday), and it was everything I could have hoped for and then some.  The stage had three large pillars on it which I assumed was the backdrop for the band on the floor of the stage.  When the lights went down the pillars lit up and became the backdrop for video projections that were reminiscent of Pink Floyd and Rush concerts of years past.  Then the pillars parted vertically to show the members of the band, one on each pillar.  They opened with "Uprising," the hit from their most recent album, The Resistance.  The second song was the title track from the album, and while I was enjoying the show, the songs sounded a little too much like the album versions.  As the second song ended, the pillars lowered the band to the floor of the stage and they launched into "New Born."  And that's where they really started to rock my face off. 

The next two hours were filled with all of the songs I could have wanted to hear and maybe a few I hadn't expected.  (Here's the full set list.)  The crowd had a few too many teenagers and kids in their twenties for my liking, and that made me feel just a bit old.  But I didn't care.  Matthew Bellamy, the lead singer and guitarist, twirled, jumped, and danced around the stage while singing and abusing his guitar.  Bassist Christoper Wolstenholme was a rock, a la John Entwistle, remaining stationary at his microphone and providing the foundation for the band.  Drummer Dominic Howard had the middle pillar to himself and with his drums on a rotating platform he could face the back of the stage and entertain the fans in the obstructed view seats.  While the band played, the video projections alternated between trippy visuals of political protests, buildings collapsing, nature scenes, and of course the band members themselves as they jammed onstage.  The show was well worth the exorbitant price I paid Stubhub for the privilege.  I'd go see it again if I had the chance.

One other note: Muse is the first band I've seen live in their prime since 1992.  My first rock concert ever was Metallica and Guns N' Roses in 1992 at Three Rivers Stadium, and even then GNR was a little overblown.  Since then, it's been a steady stream of "geezer rock," including Bob Dylan, Aerosmith, Pink Floyd, Van Halen, The Who, and even The Rolling Stones in 1997.  I hadn't seen a "modern" rock band in almost twenty years until Friday night.  As my old rock bands are now leaving the stage, I suppose I'll have to find more new acts to see live if I want to remain relevant.  Or I could just keep going to the Philharmonic, where long-dead composers still rule.

This is the year I follow baseball

I've been getting exasperated at all the baseball talk on Twitter this week.  It's just spring training, for God's sake! The games don't count!  Yesterday I threatened to live-tweet the Steelers' arrivals at training camp and the tackling dummy drills in July as payback.

Then I reconsidered.  Many, many of my friends are huge baseball fans.  And I am not.  Why should I be annoyed?  They're just excited that their favorite sport is back, even if they're playing meaningless games.  Live and let live.

Then a Twitter conversation earlier today about the viability of the Pittsburgh Pirates 2010 roster and their chances for improvement made me think about my own lack of devotion to my hometown team and baseball in general.  I realized that I couldn't explain myself in 140 characters. 

I didn't grow up as a baseball fan.  Johnstown, PA is well within Steeler country and so I became a Steelers fan at an early age.  My parents watched or listened to the Steelers games every Sunday.  I can count on one hand the number of times my dad and I threw a ball in the yard, and most of the time when we did it was a football.  I idolized Terry Bradshaw, Franco Harris, and Lynn Swann.  As for baseball, I knew who Willie Stargell was (I even shook his hand once) but I barely knew that the Pirates existed.  I never played Little League.  I never wanted to play and my parents didn't see any need to push me.  Baseball just wasn't on my childhood radar.

In middle school I used to get free tickets to Pirates games from my school in exchange for earning good grades.  (I was a massive geek then, just as I am now.)  My mother would drive us to Pittsburgh on Friday nights after work and with Pittsburgh's notoriously bad traffic we'd usually get to the stadium sometime in the 3rd inning.  Our seats were always in the 600 level, seemingly miles away from the field.  I had only the faintest idea who the players were or how baseball games worked.  Since this was the mid-'80s, the Pirates were rebuilding.  Barry Bonds, Bobby Bonilla, Mike LaValliere, and Andy Van Slyke were all playing for the team, but they weren't stars yet.  We saw a lot of crappy Pirates losses.  By the 7th inning the game was already out of hand, my brother and I would be making fun of the morbidly obese peanut vendor in our section and my mother would be ready to leave.  I don't think I saw an entire game from start to finish until 7th or 8th grade. 

By the time I graduated from high school and went to Georgetown in the fall of 1992, the Pirates had become a contender in the NL East and had made two trips to the NLCS.  All of Pittsburgh knew that the the 1992 Pirates were our last chance for a World Series appearance for a long time.  My freshman year roommate was a guy from Atlanta named Mark.  We didn't get along, and the 1992 NLCS between the Braves and the Pirates didn't help our relationship.  Everyone on the 1st floor of Darnall Hall watched Game 7 of the NLCS in the lounge.  When the Braves' Francisco Cabrera got the game-winning hit and Sid Bream scored, everyone in the room cheered for the Braves.  I was alone in my suffering as I watched the Pirates react, unable to believe what had just happened.  To add insult to injury, Mark led a victory parade up and down the hall.  The Pirates broke my heart that night.

Since 1992, the Pirates have given me few reasons to hope for another appearance in the NLCS.  There have been five-year-plans that have lasted for eight.  There have been bad trades and terrible free agent signings.  Ownership has failed to show anything resembling a commitment to putting a winning team on the field.  The Pirates moved into a gorgeous new stadium in 2001, among the best in baseball, yet the product on the field has been mediocre and sometimes atrocious.  I've had no incentive to follow the team.  I even bought a Mets cap a few years ago when they were hot and I went to a few games at Shea.  I considered giving up on the Pirates and going all-in for the Mets.

But I refuse to abandon my hometown team.  I can't deny being a Pirates fan any more than I could deny that I love Mahler's symphonies.  And now that I have baseball writers, bloggers, and fans among my friends, I don't want to be left out of the sports conversation all summer.  So this season I'm going to make a real commitment to following baseball.  I can't promise that I'll love it the way so many of my friends do.  But I'll try to watch games with more than just a casual interest.  I'll keep track of how the Pirates are doing, even if they swoon in the middle of the summer.  And when I go to Pittsburgh in August for a game, I'll know who the players are, how well they're hitting, and what the pitchers' records are.  This much I will do.

OK, baseball: are we cool?  As for the Pirates: don't disappoint me again.  I'm not asking for a World Series ring.  I'll take a .500 season.

What's with all the Knicks photos?

I've been to two New York Knicks games in the past five days.  Before this week I hadn't been to a Knicks game since 2007 and had little interest in the team since they are usually cover-your-eyes terrible.  But a combination of a tweetup on Saturday evening and complimentary tickets for last night's game got me to the Garden twice in a week.  Saturday's game included a halftime show featuring members of the Sugar Hill Gang as part of "Old School Night."  And last night I got to meet Earl "The Pearl" Monroe before the game and get his autograph.  Unfortunately, my knowledge of the Knicks before 1993 is spotty, so I had to re-read Bill Simmons' chapter on Monroe before the game and watch some of his highlights on YouTube so I'd know a few things about him.  Important note: Monroe attended Winston-Salem State University, not Syracuse.

Also, I now own two Knicks t-shirts courtesy of giveaways for the events before each game, which is two more Knicks-related items of clothing than I had before Saturday.  If the Knicks ever become a good team again, I will be able to declare my casual interest proudly and at no cost whatsoever.