A Return to Holland...after 35 years!

Attending a dear friends 95th birthday was a great excuse to return to a country I fell in love with as a student in the late 1950's and early 60's. My first impression still remains vivid...that of seeing spotless white curtains hanging in picture perfect windows, pots of flowers on the sills. That image seemed to capture the basic stillness that is a remarkable trait of Dutch life. Tightly packed cities mean closely packed apartments, and life has many moments spent indoors. But the typical Dutch living room is still very much the same: comfortable chairs drawn up in a circle, places for books and coffee cups, and plants on the sills, desk, and table. Vermeer likes to show oriental rugs as table covers, and this is still a favorite, although the rugs are thin, so drape elegantly. Coffee seems to be a passion like it has always been. The Dutch must grind the coffee, filter it slowly, so that the waiting around for the first cup is an equisite pleasure.

The stillness pervades everywhere. Villages abound in cottages with beautiful small gardens, metticulously maintained. This May there were elegant rhododendrums of every shade, all in perfect bloom. I was lucky, as the week before mine had bloomed in Hopkins, and were equally wonderful this year. The many parks and canals add their own quality of life, and I still find the tree lined canals places of poetry and nostalgia. Sitting with friends on a Sunday morning having brunch at a sidewalk table, we watched a slow parade of bicycles, many tamdems for two, draw by and fade in the distance, like silent ships. Once in a while a motorcycle wound go by, bringing the stillness to a halt, but even these riders tried not to stick out too much. It seems we were viewing riders taking a circle tour of seven villages, a Sunday tradition.

My friend's apartment looked out over the center or Eindhoven, which was bombed relentlessly in the final days of WWII. A lazy town river flows by her second floor terrase. We floated in and out for four days, celebrating a long life filled with great happiness, but also dark moments of war. The Dutch speak of eating tulip bulbs when there was no food. They laugh about it, but underneath is the resolve that saw them through.

The celebration party was a work of art, held inside and out at a lovely restaurant inside a beautiful park. Everyone was in long dresses and black tie, adding that touch that the hostess preferred. It was like a panorama of life, brief connections with one's past, filtered through many years of living.

Suddenly It's May

We had a beautiful, long Spring, with a few detours along the way, especially from violent storms, bringing high winds, hail, and pounding rain. A new roof, by way of State Farm, got baptised immediately, but it held firm and there were no surprises. It seems I stayed home for weeks, and I took advantage of the time to work on new repertoire. This summer I will be a presenter at the Alabama MTA Convention, and also teach at the South Eastern Piano Festival at USC. We auditioned some great pianists, and I think it will be a treat for all of us. Then in July its back to London (where I have just been for two weeks) to play for the Bosendorfer Piano Series in Regents Park on July 27. It will be Brahms, Schubert, Debussy, and the Great Themes from Movies of the Forties, including the Warsaw Concerto of Richard Addinsell. A couple of Piano Portraits in Charleston in September are on the horizon, and also I will perform on the September Concerts for the first time since I retired.

I have been learning the transcription by Lucien Garban of Debussy's great symphonice work, "La Mer". It is a most interesting transcription, quite pianistic, and sounds lovely on the piano. It is full of notes, but it is not overwhelming in difficulty. I do have the advantage of having performed all of Debussy's piano music, so I see many correlations and similarities. I would say keeping the line moving forward and constanly varying the color and voicing are things one has to master. It will be interesting to see how people react. I have taken most of the tremeloes out, not wanting to sound like a silent movie piano player! Actually, I find it is very engrossing, and I am amazed at how Debussy composed this work. It is much more complex than one would think, as when we listen to it on recordings it seems to float by. The challenge is to the EAR more than the fingers. The harmonic changes are often veiled, hidden away in the texture in such as way as to always sounds like you never heard then before each time you come to them!. He has the ability to come up with fascinating choices, usually ones you would not suspect. His technic of composing is that of constant variation, one section evolving out of another in this incredibly fluent stream of sound. One always thinks Impressionism is vague, formless, and full of mist. That is all a put-up-job. It is as highly constructed as Beethoven or Mozart, and has all the mastery of counterpoint (with some novel twists) found in Bach.

A recent visit to London found everyone recovering from two 4 days weekends, and social calendars were all mixed up. The Wedding entralled the nation, and was an enormous pick me up for a public terribly put upon by inflation, difficult job market, and loss of benefits. Sound familiar? I avoided the central areas, and instead visited friends in the suburbs, going around by bus. It was a great visit, and I always leave with regret. The consolation is when I get home, I am so comfortable and it is so beautiful, I wonder why I left in the first place!

Rustles of Spring

A very unusual, cold and damp Winter is slowly giving way to Spring. It is happening swiftly, as it often does in these climes. In just a few days camellias that have sat for months suddenly burst into bloom. Some of the ones that rarely have more than a few blooms seems to be especially enthusiastic this year. I have one called Professor Sargent, a favorite of my father when we lived in Alabama. It is crimson, with a carnation like center, surrounded by single petals. A rhododendrum nearby is almost the same color, and it is called Nova Zembla. It has led many lives, either in robust health, or slowly fading away. It should be called Nova Vita, since it roots easily if a branch get covered up. I saw it struggling away at Callaway Gardens, the same year mine was rampant with bloom.

Flowering quince is always a joy, and this year it came out very slowly, and is now full of bloom. I noticed it planted along Leesburg Road, just as it starts past the Vets Hospital. It was interplanted with small firs, and looked stunning. A sign just there says "Welcome to the Lower Richland Community". It always make me smile, as if we are a lost part of the Midlands (which suits all of us just fine).

My pansies didn't thrive in the snow and ice, so now I have replanted, mostly from the "give away section" at Lowes. There is something satisfying about rescue. From a point of last hope, you revive and make useful. Teaching taught me alot about that. I had some students show up from poor experiences elsewhere, and I always made a point of saying I was their Last Hope. Do What I Say, and Show Up Faithfully. That is always a good recipe.

So now I am waiting for the tulips, which I plant in pots to discourage the moles and squirrels. They don't last long, but they are so majestic, and have unearthly colors. Just a few in clumps here and there can make a fiesta out of your garden.

More Pages to Turn....

Issac Stern, Violinist
Issac Stern was at his peak when he played a recital in Township Auditorium in the 1980's. I was priviledged to not only turn his pages, but also to have a modest conversation with him backstage. He struck me as totally approachable, funny, and full of energy. I remember his signing my program for me, and when he asked my name, I said John Adams. He laughed and said, "Oh yea, well I'm Thomas Jefferson." I noticed his violin case in the dressing room, and on the inside of the lid was a virtual family album of photographs. The program included the Enescu Sonata for Violin and Piano, a nod towards his association with that great composer and violinist. The score was in manuscript, and the pianist warned me that there were several cuts. I had to look carefully to find small red dots, and when I saw one,turn the page and look for the next red dot. Now that would have been fine with a rehearsal, but having to do this without one, and in front of hundreds of people was nerve wracking. The pianist, whom I have forgotten....(I must look it up)..was very complimentary afterwards, and signed my program along with Stern. Issac Stern was born in 1920, so he would have been in his sixties when I met up with him. He was a class act to say the least.

Leontyne Price, Soprano
Leontyne Price sang at least three times in Columbia, and the final concert at Township Auditorium was in the mid 1980's. The most vivid memory I have is arriving early for the concert, and standing backstage waiting for Miss Price and David Garvey, her pianist, to arrive. Someone was rattling the sidedoor, and I went to let them in. A very short lady in boots and a fur hat, very Russian, came in, looking rather lost. I said "Can I help you" and Madame said, "Oh no, I know exactly where to go". Of course, I was expecting a tall, regal appearance, but in street clothes, overcoat and hat, she looked quite ordinary. I was stunned, to say the least, as she always struck me as very tall from the stage. Not the first time I have been fooled with that, as great artists have a way of making themselves appear larger than life. Or, perhaps, we do that unconsciously! She wanted to try the stage right away, so out we went, with a scattering of applause from the few souls already seated. She tried a few passages, turned and smiled, and that was it. She had a habit of touching the curtain when she walked out on stage...rather a flick of the wrist sort of thing...and I realized this was a good luck ritual for her. As I knew so many of the pieces from playing them myself, I was able to watch her a great deal. It would seem to me that she had the most relaxed vocal technique possible. She always sang "Pace, Pace, Mio Dio" from Verdi's "La Forza del Destino", and so I waited for that wonderful B Blat. It seemed to come out of space, perfectly formed, and the most beauriful sound imaginable. She was totally removed backstage, lost in thought, and unapproachable. She had a small table with all her encores spread out. After the first encore she suddenly said to me..."Pick one out!" I almost fainted. For the life of me, I can't remember what it was! Afterwards in the dressing room, she was so so lovely to me, and signed my program with a short greeting, and also a beautiful photograph of her. A Magical Evening.

A diversion...

Alicia De Larrocha, pianist

De Larrocha played twice in Columbia, and both times she practiced in my studio in the old music building, McMaster School. She was very small, but had powerful shoulders and hands. I remember going with Leon Harrelson to meet her at the airport, and she arrived carrying not one, but two music cases. Right then and there you knew you were in the presence of a world class artist, with dozens of concerts on her schedule. After her concert, I was invited to a small supper party, and she was very amusing. Learning I was soon to play with orchestra, she remarked'"I hope you have a good conductor...there are many bad ones!" The second visit was in the 1980's, and this time she noticed a picture of herself on my studio wall. When I went back stage after her concert, she handed me a new photograph of herself, saying "This one is much nicer!" She seemed in some ways the opposite of what one might expect in so great an artist. She was folksy, down to earth, and direct. I always found her playing to reflect those qualities, plus a seemless technique and exqusite polish. I heard her with the National Symphony some weeks later, over the air, playing the Schumann Concerto. In the last movement, during that famous syncopated rhythm, the conductor faltered. Not Alica..she remained steady as a rock and brought it all to a magnificent conclusion. A real professional and a wonderful person.

Some Pages I Have Turned....!

Beginning in my late teens in Kansas City, I had the opportunity to turn pages at concerts for some of the greatest musicians. I just sort of fell into this, but was given a big push forward by Ruth Seufert, who ran the biggest artist series in town. I started out as an usher in the Music Hall, learning all the different seating patterns in that large space. An emergency arose, and I made my page turning debut with vioinist Misha Elman at the last minute. What follows are some rememberances of some of these artists, some of whom I remember more for their artistry than for any personal contact. But a few had real charm, and they stand out for that reason.

Misha Elman, violinist.

Elman would have been in his 60's when I heard him, and I remember his beautiful manners and stage presence. He was born in Kiev in 1891, and was one of the most famous pupils of Leopold Auer, a celebrated master teacher. His playing was quite bold and full of romantic performance traits, many of which are out of style at this time. I wore my Phi Mu Alpha pin everywhere in those days, and I remember his telling me that he was also a proud member! The audience loved him, and they often heard him on the radio. He played the famous "Meditation" from "Thais" as an encore, and you can hear it on his page in Wikipedia.

Shirley Verrett, mezzo soprano

Miss Verrett ( at the time Verrett-Carter ) was the winner of the National Federation of Music Clubs Young Artist Award, and I turned pages for her during the finals in Kansas City. She was accompanied by a very young Charles Wadsworth, and of course I always reminded him of that in later years. I remember the ease of her technique, and the great showmanship....perhaps I should say Star Power, for she went on to a great career. By this time she had already had some important concerts, but she really took off in the early 1960's. She gave a meltingly liquid rendition of the "Habanera" from "Carmen" that I can still hear in my inner ear fifty years later. I had already heard Charles at Yale, when he played for Elaine Ritchie, who had just won the Naumberg Award, and gave an informal recital in the Yale Glee Club rehearsal room. Shirley Verrett died just a few weeks ago, followed by magnificent tributes far and wide.

Mack Harrell, baritone

While a student at Aspen Music School I turned pages for Mack Harrell, who was joined by my teacher, pianist Joanna Graudan ,for a performance of "Dicterliebe" by Schumann. I had been fascinated all that summer session with Mack Harrell and Phyliss Curtin, who were rehearsing for the New York City premiere of Carlyle Floyd's opera "Susannah". They had already done it at Florida State University, where Floyd was on the faculty. I had already heard Mack several times in Kansas City, where he joined Carl Friedberg and Conrad Bos for several summer masterclasses in the late 1040's, early 50's. He was slight of statue, and had been a violinist who suddenly discovered his singing voice while a student at Curtis. He was probably as great a recitalist as any singer I had heard. His sound was like bunished bronze, with a very sensuous overtone. His German diction was perfection. A great singer, and incidentally, the father of cellist Lynn Harrell....who was about 10 years old at the time I knew him. The funny bit was that Phyliss Curtin had started as a violinist also, so the two were well matched.

Birgit Nilsson, soprano

Again, a last minute emergency sent me to the aid of this magnificent artist, who gave a spellbinding performance in Austin, Texas in the early 1960's, while I was on the piano faculty there. Her pianist was Leo Taubman, and he met me backstage, where I could hear Birgit warming up in her dressing room. She sounded like she was right beside us, but there was a heavy door between. He insisted I meet her first, and then we could get down to business. She swept on stage, and plunged into
"Dich Teure Halle". I looked up and saw this vast amount of spray come out of her mouth, and several people in the front row moved back. (She was sucking on a cough drop before she went on stage, wrapped it in her handkerchief, and handed it to me!)
What I remember particularly was a set of songs by Sibelius, which she characterized to great degree. I also noticed how she had this incredible sense of phrasing..knowing just how to make the music flow in a most natural way. She was very free, but also very disciplined at the same time. She was brought to the concert by a young Swedish guy, who had covered his car with flowers for the ride (in a rather beat up old car). She was so giving, and the audience loved her. At the end she came around the piano, took my hand, and had me bow with her and Leo for the final turn. She gave me several photos, all of which disappeared during the move to South Carolina.

A digression....

The Stars of the Music World had a quite different progress in those days, almost always arriving by train. They usually showed up at least the day before their concerts, and sometimes stayed several days. I remember the endless photos in the newspaper, some of which could be quite inventive. Lily Pons, the reigning coloratura of her time, was photographed on the rail platform holding a lease with a leapord at the other end. How they managed that shot remains a mystery, but I imagined at least four men with guns and whips standing behind the photographer. She was barely five feet tall, and appeared much taller on stage, because of clever touches, such as a small crown on her head, and a long train sweeping behind her. She demanded a white canvas runner from the wings to the center of the stage, and made an entrace fit for a queen. Her recital always featured a flutist in tow, so she could do the cadenzas to the Mad Scene from "Lucia di Lammermoor" in more authenic fashion. She invariably sang pieces about larks, and the flute was a necessary addition here as well.

TO BE CONTINUED>

Bah! Humbug!

There's one thing about celebrating Christmas early as I did in London this year. The pace of the crowds was good, service was good, and the mood had that needed edge of anticipation. I just came back from shopping in some old haunts in Columbia. I am exhausted. When buying soap at Stein Mart, I was in a short line, and no one behind me. The cashier took my money, handed me a bag, and said in a loud voice "Next customer please..." Summarily dismissed, I barked.."Merry Christmas and Thank You". No reaction. Wandering on to the Fresh Market, I entered in hopes of finding my favorite cheese, being La Roule, a goat cheese flown over from France. They have not had it in stock the last two visits, even though they placed a enticing picture in their Christmas Catalog. So there it was, but packaged in huge blocks, large enough for a family of 10. I asked a helper if they had smaller packages as they use to have. She referred me down the line, and the Mistress of Cheese barked, rather unpleasantly, "Well, How much do you want". She procceded to slice it in half, and gave off the air of "Her Majesty's Displeasure". I flopped it in my bag, and went back into the frey. I kept running into a nice lady with a cane, who was making rather good progress. She had watched the performance, and we got to talking in the row with the pancake mixes, which was rather busy. We discussed the downfall of simple manners, went on to settle most of the world's problems, and finished up with a conversation about the Vienna Opera, which we found we had both attended. She was from Austria, and told a charming story of getting two seats for the re-opening of the restored opera house after the II World War. Her husband had no suitable clothing, so the waiter at their hotel lent him one of his set of tails. Off they went to an historic occasion. That made me stop and think. Civil Communication is the only means of survival today. My new friend and I decided not to march on Washington, but go to our respective homes and have a cup of tea. Merry Christmas, One and All!

Christmas Season in London

I have to hand it to the English. They are so tough, it often appears to us, but anything below 32 degrees is considered life threatening these days. They are becoming quite soft it would appear, after 10 days in London walking the streets and riding the buses. Agreed, they supposedly have a moderate climate. But the past few years have seen record heat and record cold. Does that mean the tropics are getting colder and the artic is getting hotter?. Now there is the theory that it will get alternately hotter and colder, and finally settle on hotter. The English are ill-prepared for snow, even in the North and Scotland, where some places had two feet.

There is a new society for the preservation of all things ENGLISH, called The Society of St. Goerge. I have now attended three excursions sponsored by them, and they are a jolly rum group. The necessity of such an organization stems from the fact that its all referred to today as UK. UK this, UK that. The ENGLISH are up in arms, afraid they will lose their special identity. The President of this group even approached your's truly to write a song they could sing at their gatherings. Now that did take me off my heels...a Patriot being asked to do such a thing. My friends said "He thinks you are the OTHER JOHN ADAMS" That rather took the glow off, after already deciding the anthem should end with "ENGLAND< ENGLAND< ENGLAND!"

To get back to basics, I did so enjoyed the Royal Opera presentation of Cilea's rarely done "Adrienne Lecouvreur", a picture postcard version of this verismo classic. Another highlight was A Ceremony of Nine Lessons and Carols presented by my club at St. James Church, Piccadilly. Being a music based organization, ROSL is able to draw up extensive talent from their pool of prize winners. It was moving and exceedingly well done.

Lots of taxi rides blunted the extreme cold. Once I got stuck in a traffic jam that crawled along for hours it seems. I told the driver I was going to run out of money. He said."Just pay me what you've got Mate". A rare occurance. If you tip generously they always say..."You are a fine gentleman!" Tip often and generously!

The other joy was meeting the young Scottish mezzo soprano Laura Kelly, who holds the John Kenneth Adams Scholarship this year at the Royal Academy of Music. She is petite, dynamic, and utterly charming. She gets to create a role in a new opera to be done this Spring by Peter Maxwell Davies. Alas, I can't be there, but she is obviously well on her way.

So now I am a known quantity to the doormen at the Ritz, next door to us. I get a laugh each time I walk by, especially the sight of the dust pan they keep by the service door....a battered piece of equipment on which is scrawled in white paint..Prop of Ritz Hotel. Perhaps in case I decide to whisk it away someday!