Visible and Invisible

After celebrating Latin mass tonight (Saturday), I found myself at a retirement party at Max's Opera Cafe. While the combo (piano, vocals, clarinet, flute, double bass, sax) covered tunes from the American songbook, a plaque was presented, wine was poured, edibles were offered, conviviality flowed. Someone asked a priest, who is also a mathematician, what the two vocations have in common. "Both" he replied, "make the invisible visible." (27.V.17)

Agave Baroque

After high mass this morning, and a visit to the Asian Arts Museum this afternoon to look at the Tomb Treasures exhibition, I returned to church for a performance by Agave Baroque, to hear music of Heinrich Biber and others. Biber (said the program) "invented numerous new tunings for his violin, to achieve extended techniques, special tone colors, and 'artificial harmonies.'" The stunning virtuosity and chatty introductions of the lead violinist, Aaron Westman, brought Biber's technique to life --- "baroque heavy metal!" said Aaron, twice. The continuo players (box organ, theorbo, baroque guitar, viola da gamba) were no shrinking violets either. During one tuneup, a car alarm sounded, giving the organist and viol player a chance to riff off the chord. The organ, by the way, has a name: "Mister Toots!" (21.V.17)

Dr Pangloss

I was charmed to hear this afternoon that I express a certain "Panglossian naivete." No one has applied the adjective "Panglossian" to me before. (14.V.17)

Soapbox Racer

The neighborhood motorcycle shop has closed. It opened a few years ago in a space formerly occupied by a typewriter repair shop. At the time, prominently displayed in the front window was a soapbox racer, which remained visible for a few months, then vanished into the recesses of the shop, to be followed by a succession of motorcycles, including an electric. In the past few weeks, the motorcycles went away one by one, and the racer reappeared, alone in an otherwise empty shop. Now it has gone too. So long and Godspeed. I like to think that there's a kid somewhere who will ride it to a victory or two, or more. (10.V.17)

Stravinsky and Purcell

Friday evening past, and Sunday afternoon, I took myself to the Conservatory for their final opera performances of the season, Stravinsky's 'Mavra', and Purcell's 'Dido and Aeneas'. I had not known about 'Mavra', a charming, short (25 minutes) comedy, complete with a hulking soldier character, Vasilli, whose quick change into drag as Mavra, as demure and 'feminine' a housemaid as one could imagine, he accomplished with skill, aplomb, and panache. He carried the piece. The unusual arrangement, for double bass, piano, French horn, clarinet, and bassoon, supported the comic mood.

But unalloyed joy cannot last. On to 'Dido and Aeneas', which began in love and ended in suicide. (Why are operatic characters thwarted in love, women usually, expected to die tragically?). An impressive production, with a simple set and modern dress; the chorus went from business suits to jacketless casual to sailor shirts and back to jackets with great efficiency, when they weren't singing or rearranging the furniture. The singers were splendid of course, and the baroque orchestra equally so. Dido sang her Lament with great feeling. A good time was had by all. (2.V.17)

Dispatched

I'm amused to hear, tonight, that a character named "Alex Martin" has been, um, dispatched, as it were, in a Doctor Blake mystery. (24.IV.17)

Suor Angelica

Tuesday past, a friend and I were in Cafe Creme at the Conservatory, when a nun made her way to the counter. After consideration of the likelihood that a nun would be in the Conservatory at all, never mind the Cafe, it dawned on us that the "nun" was a singer in a dress rehearsal of Puccini's 'Suor Angelica'. Also on the bill was Massenet's 'Le Portrait de Manon.' At the performances tonight, the singing and playing were splendid.The cultural assumptions underlying these pieces are outmoded, of course, but did not detract from the performances. Love across a class barrier is somewhat easier than it was, perhaps, and nowadays no one would expect a nun to commit suicide because she had had a child years before. The most important thing about the Puccini is that all the characters are women; one would like the attitude toward feminine emotional life to be more positive. (7.IV.17)

Bad Advice

A beggar on Upper Market this afternoon offered "Bad Advice --- Only $3" (2.IV.17)