Books:
READING: The Fingerprints of God by Robert Farrar Capon; Writing Without Teachers by Peter Elbow; Age of Bronze - Vol.2: Sacrifice by Eric Shanower
FINISHED: I Am Not Myself These Days by Josh Kilmer-Purcell; Age of Bronze - Vol.1: A Thousand Ships by Eric Shanower; The Unconscious Civilization by John Ralston Saul
Articles/Essays:
Carnal Knowledge by Bill Buford - The New Yorker, 1.v.2006
Plays:
Cubicles by Alexander Danner (City Attic Theatre)
Art:
David Milne, Art Gallery of Ontario; Peter Doig, Art Gallery of Ontario; Edvard Munch: The Modern Life of the Soul, MOMA; Socrates Sculpture Park, Long Island City
Dance:
Mixed program: A Delicate Battle; There, below; Grand Pas Classique; Petrushka - National Ballet of Canada (Hummingbird Centre)
Music:
PERFORMED: A Song to David by William Albright; anthems of the church year;
RECORDED: Heiligmesse by F.J. Haydn
Film:
RIPFest #8 - seven short movie musicals
Guilty Pleasures -- video:
Family Guy (on DVD); Coupling (BBC-A); Footballers' Wives (BBC-A); American Dad (on DVD -- viewed in Toronto, oddly enough)
And, oh yes, I launched my blog.
31 May 2006
28 May 2006
Sing cuccu nu
Where do all memorable holidays begin?
Truthfully, the holiday weekend did not really begin for me here. It began in bed with a much-needed late rising. But I did pass a couple of hours at the laundromat this evening, in order to be able to ring in the summer with clean clothes. Earlier I had returned to Union Square Farmers Market to look for ramps. As I suspected-- there were no more for sale. The season is over.
But that's good news, in a way. The day was glary and sultry. I walked the streets in shorts, T-shirt and sandals. Sidewalk arguments and car-stereo music tumbled in through the open windows of my apartment. Welcome, summer.
Truthfully, the holiday weekend did not really begin for me here. It began in bed with a much-needed late rising. But I did pass a couple of hours at the laundromat this evening, in order to be able to ring in the summer with clean clothes. Earlier I had returned to Union Square Farmers Market to look for ramps. As I suspected-- there were no more for sale. The season is over. But that's good news, in a way. The day was glary and sultry. I walked the streets in shorts, T-shirt and sandals. Sidewalk arguments and car-stereo music tumbled in through the open windows of my apartment. Welcome, summer.
23 May 2006
Ramps? Ramps!
Originally posted Tues 23 May 2006:
Each April I am overcome by a powerful longing. A longing for two special things that Spring bestows upon us. In some years these things appear early, in other years (this year, for instance) they seem to appear later. They are: asparagus and ramps.
Everyone knows asparagus. Many grocers sell aspragus all year, but only in April does it begin to grow in this general region of America. The sweet flavor, low price, and sheer abundance of the crop make binging de rigeur. I could easily eat asparagus every day for the full month or so of its season. I'm sure that many people share my obsession.
But ramps? They are not as widely known. They are a vegetable that is something like a cross between leeks and scallions. They have a plump, white root which sprouts a short, floppy, purplish stalk crowned with long, broad, grassy leaves. Ramps have a sharp, garlic-like fragrance and taste, but a mellower, rounder, and fresher character than garlic or scallions, with less sting. Bright and savory might be another description. Some people find them too strong. I suspect that those people don't have much of a taste for the Allium genus in the first place. Chacun à son goût.
According to what I read on the web (search blogs for ramps and you'll get dozens of hits) they grow from Georgia to Québec, from the east coast into the midwest. They have a big following in West Virginia, where they grow all over the place. The ramps season is even briefer than asparagus's, and because comparatively few people know about them in this country, demand is lower, and the crop is smaller. But popularity seems to have grown in the last decade. New York restaurants have put ramps on their menus and articles about them have appeared in the New York Times, granting ramps snob appeal. In fact, a Times article this season gave them a loud ho-hum, claiming that ramps are nothing to get excited about. This is a true sign that ramps have gone establishment. I'll freely admit that part of their appeal is their scarcity. Knowing that you can enjoy ramps for only a very short time each year, you appreciate them more.
My first acquaintance with ramps occurred when I spent a spring in Germany. I tasted the local variety called, "Bärlauch" (= bear leek). It grows there like weeds and is a common ingredient in springtime cooking. I did some research and found that it goes by different names in different parts of Europe, and that we have our own form in America.
The season is coming to an end now, it only lasts about three weeks. This past weekend I was still able to buy some at the Union Square Farmers Market, which is the best place around to find them. The grocery stores charge way too much. Skip Garden of Eden and Whole Foods. Fairway had a small box of limp ramps that were set up way too inconspicuously in a refrigerated shelf.
The Union Square merchant in the photo below sold them as his only item. His were fresh, lovely, and cheap. A steady stream of ramps fans approached his stand, gleefully snatching them up.
The handwritten signboard at his table has some restaurant cards tacked to it, suggesting that this man is the supplier to prominent New York chefs. Customers have scribbled recipes in magic marker onto the board, and they're all pretty appetizing to read.
You can use ramps any way you would use other types of onion-family vegetables. The entire stalk is edible, including the greens. Even though fresh ramps are a bit sharp, I've heard that they're enjoyable chopped and tossed raw into salads. Any cooking must be brief -- the flavor of ramps weakens drastically if they're cooked more than a few minutes.
Here's my favorite recipe. It's just a simple side-dish. But it's really easy and fantastic:
- Cook some brown rice. (for instance, 2 cups cooked)
- Sauté some sliced mushrooms (6-8oz) in butter and/or olive oil. Put them aside.
- Chop a healthy-sized bunch of ramps (maybe six stalks) in any fashion: I like large pieces.
- Using the same pan that the mushrooms cooked in, warm some more butter or olive oil on low-to-medium heat and sauté the ramps. Start with the chopped white roots, a minute or so is long enough. Then add the chopped stalks and leaves to the pan and keep everything moving until the leaves wilt, but are still fresh and green-looking.
- Toss the sautéd ramps and mushrooms into the rice, and add soy sauce and pepper to taste.
Mr. Supersweetie suggests sautéing some sliced ginger with the mushrooms and/or the ramps, and removing it before mixing everything into the rice. I haven't tried it yet, but I will-- I'm sure it'll be delicious!
Each April I am overcome by a powerful longing. A longing for two special things that Spring bestows upon us. In some years these things appear early, in other years (this year, for instance) they seem to appear later. They are: asparagus and ramps.
Everyone knows asparagus. Many grocers sell aspragus all year, but only in April does it begin to grow in this general region of America. The sweet flavor, low price, and sheer abundance of the crop make binging de rigeur. I could easily eat asparagus every day for the full month or so of its season. I'm sure that many people share my obsession.
But ramps? They are not as widely known. They are a vegetable that is something like a cross between leeks and scallions. They have a plump, white root which sprouts a short, floppy, purplish stalk crowned with long, broad, grassy leaves. Ramps have a sharp, garlic-like fragrance and taste, but a mellower, rounder, and fresher character than garlic or scallions, with less sting. Bright and savory might be another description. Some people find them too strong. I suspect that those people don't have much of a taste for the Allium genus in the first place. Chacun à son goût.
According to what I read on the web (search blogs for ramps and you'll get dozens of hits) they grow from Georgia to Québec, from the east coast into the midwest. They have a big following in West Virginia, where they grow all over the place. The ramps season is even briefer than asparagus's, and because comparatively few people know about them in this country, demand is lower, and the crop is smaller. But popularity seems to have grown in the last decade. New York restaurants have put ramps on their menus and articles about them have appeared in the New York Times, granting ramps snob appeal. In fact, a Times article this season gave them a loud ho-hum, claiming that ramps are nothing to get excited about. This is a true sign that ramps have gone establishment. I'll freely admit that part of their appeal is their scarcity. Knowing that you can enjoy ramps for only a very short time each year, you appreciate them more.My first acquaintance with ramps occurred when I spent a spring in Germany. I tasted the local variety called, "Bärlauch" (= bear leek). It grows there like weeds and is a common ingredient in springtime cooking. I did some research and found that it goes by different names in different parts of Europe, and that we have our own form in America.
The season is coming to an end now, it only lasts about three weeks. This past weekend I was still able to buy some at the Union Square Farmers Market, which is the best place around to find them. The grocery stores charge way too much. Skip Garden of Eden and Whole Foods. Fairway had a small box of limp ramps that were set up way too inconspicuously in a refrigerated shelf.
The Union Square merchant in the photo below sold them as his only item. His were fresh, lovely, and cheap. A steady stream of ramps fans approached his stand, gleefully snatching them up.
The handwritten signboard at his table has some restaurant cards tacked to it, suggesting that this man is the supplier to prominent New York chefs. Customers have scribbled recipes in magic marker onto the board, and they're all pretty appetizing to read.
You can use ramps any way you would use other types of onion-family vegetables. The entire stalk is edible, including the greens. Even though fresh ramps are a bit sharp, I've heard that they're enjoyable chopped and tossed raw into salads. Any cooking must be brief -- the flavor of ramps weakens drastically if they're cooked more than a few minutes.
Here's my favorite recipe. It's just a simple side-dish. But it's really easy and fantastic:
- Cook some brown rice. (for instance, 2 cups cooked)
- Sauté some sliced mushrooms (6-8oz) in butter and/or olive oil. Put them aside.
- Chop a healthy-sized bunch of ramps (maybe six stalks) in any fashion: I like large pieces.
- Using the same pan that the mushrooms cooked in, warm some more butter or olive oil on low-to-medium heat and sauté the ramps. Start with the chopped white roots, a minute or so is long enough. Then add the chopped stalks and leaves to the pan and keep everything moving until the leaves wilt, but are still fresh and green-looking.
- Toss the sautéd ramps and mushrooms into the rice, and add soy sauce and pepper to taste.
Mr. Supersweetie suggests sautéing some sliced ginger with the mushrooms and/or the ramps, and removing it before mixing everything into the rice. I haven't tried it yet, but I will-- I'm sure it'll be delicious!
19 May 2006
Jeanne d'Arc sans bûcher
Before my experience of hearing Ewa Podleś perform with the Toronto Symphony completely recedes into unreliable memory, here are some observations.
Her tone was really veiled. The sound lacked point in all parts of her range, and it failed to carry. The voice seemed to be functioning well and I got the feeling she didn’t lack resonance, but the sound just did not travel. Why? I’m not sure.
Were the acoustics of Roy Thomson Hall to blame? The hall underwent a multi-million-dollar renovation a few years ago. It looks like the Carousel in "Logan's Run." The improved acoustics seem serviceable, though quite engineered-sounding. The echo time was just so, the overtones were just so, etc. The Thomson Hall sound seems to demand monumentality of expression from the stage, otherwise music sounds tiny, under-pronounced, frozen. It could be that the hall is just not flattering to the voice. Or maybe my seat to the side, two levels overhead was beyond the sonic reach of a crafted performance.
Were there range issues in Podleś’s voice? “Giovanna d’Arco” is real contralto territory, quite low-lying most of the time. The “Maid of Orleans” aria lay higher, and Podleś’s sound was stronger there, though not a lot louder. The Tchaikovsky aria was musically more successful than the Rossini, too. The intense, brooding affect of Tchaikovsky fit Podleś’s temperament better than the fresh, vivacious sparkle of Rossini. The composers were talking about the same Joan of Arc, but wrote two different psychodramas. I liked the orchestral arrangement of the Rossini by contemporary composer, Salvatore Sciarrino. It sounded like typical Rossini operatic writing.
I should add that the Tchaikovsky Symphony at the end was by and large disappointing. The gestures and the phrasing were so heavily smoothed out that the musicians could have been playing Schubert. Not much of an attempt was made to communicate a story behind this rampaging, mood-swingy music, which cries out for emotional engagement. All I heard was background music for a TV commercial. I don’t know whether to blame the players or Richard Bradshaw, the conductor. They all seemed to know what they were doing, with no regrets about how incredibly bland their work was.
Her tone was really veiled. The sound lacked point in all parts of her range, and it failed to carry. The voice seemed to be functioning well and I got the feeling she didn’t lack resonance, but the sound just did not travel. Why? I’m not sure.
Were the acoustics of Roy Thomson Hall to blame? The hall underwent a multi-million-dollar renovation a few years ago. It looks like the Carousel in "Logan's Run." The improved acoustics seem serviceable, though quite engineered-sounding. The echo time was just so, the overtones were just so, etc. The Thomson Hall sound seems to demand monumentality of expression from the stage, otherwise music sounds tiny, under-pronounced, frozen. It could be that the hall is just not flattering to the voice. Or maybe my seat to the side, two levels overhead was beyond the sonic reach of a crafted performance.
Were there range issues in Podleś’s voice? “Giovanna d’Arco” is real contralto territory, quite low-lying most of the time. The “Maid of Orleans” aria lay higher, and Podleś’s sound was stronger there, though not a lot louder. The Tchaikovsky aria was musically more successful than the Rossini, too. The intense, brooding affect of Tchaikovsky fit Podleś’s temperament better than the fresh, vivacious sparkle of Rossini. The composers were talking about the same Joan of Arc, but wrote two different psychodramas. I liked the orchestral arrangement of the Rossini by contemporary composer, Salvatore Sciarrino. It sounded like typical Rossini operatic writing.
I should add that the Tchaikovsky Symphony at the end was by and large disappointing. The gestures and the phrasing were so heavily smoothed out that the musicians could have been playing Schubert. Not much of an attempt was made to communicate a story behind this rampaging, mood-swingy music, which cries out for emotional engagement. All I heard was background music for a TV commercial. I don’t know whether to blame the players or Richard Bradshaw, the conductor. They all seemed to know what they were doing, with no regrets about how incredibly bland their work was.
11 May 2006
Ausflug
I'm in Toronto this week. I haven't been to Canada in almost 12 years, and I've never visited this city.
Tonight I'll hear the Toronto Symphony perform at Roy Thomson Hall, which looks like an enormous hairnet. Or humidifier filter. Or a Vornado fan on its side.
Ewa Podleś will be the soloist in a "Joan of Arc"-themed program. I'll post thoughts tomorrow if anything interesting to say occurs to me.
I saw Podleś in recital at Carnegie Hall a few years ago -- I THINK it was a few years ago. I remember liking her, and certainly enjoyed seeing a real, virtuoso contralto getting the spotlight. And one who looked sort of like an Upper West Side mom from the old days, at that. (Whatever that means... stream-of-consciousness is taking over) But I also remember that from my seat in the Orchestra section, the bottom of her range "disappeared," which was surprising. I blamed the acoustics at the time. We'll see what happens tonight.
I've only heard the Tchaikovsky aria and the Rossini cantata on CD, and can't remember much about them. So the experience will be fresh and.... unbiased? I'm also looking forward to hearing Symph.IV. The last time I heard it was also at Carnegie years ago, with an out-of-town band (which?) under Jesus Lopez-Cobos. He was terrific! I still remember how exciting it was.
Toronto's an okay town. Not much is going on this week, and a number of major tourist attractions are under heavy construction. So things are a bit ho-hum. I'm here to work with a voice teacher who is based in this city, to visit a friend, and to check out the lay of the land.
Tonight I'll hear the Toronto Symphony perform at Roy Thomson Hall, which looks like an enormous hairnet. Or humidifier filter. Or a Vornado fan on its side.
Ewa Podleś will be the soloist in a "Joan of Arc"-themed program. I'll post thoughts tomorrow if anything interesting to say occurs to me.
I saw Podleś in recital at Carnegie Hall a few years ago -- I THINK it was a few years ago. I remember liking her, and certainly enjoyed seeing a real, virtuoso contralto getting the spotlight. And one who looked sort of like an Upper West Side mom from the old days, at that. (Whatever that means... stream-of-consciousness is taking over) But I also remember that from my seat in the Orchestra section, the bottom of her range "disappeared," which was surprising. I blamed the acoustics at the time. We'll see what happens tonight.
I've only heard the Tchaikovsky aria and the Rossini cantata on CD, and can't remember much about them. So the experience will be fresh and.... unbiased? I'm also looking forward to hearing Symph.IV. The last time I heard it was also at Carnegie years ago, with an out-of-town band (which?) under Jesus Lopez-Cobos. He was terrific! I still remember how exciting it was.
Toronto's an okay town. Not much is going on this week, and a number of major tourist attractions are under heavy construction. So things are a bit ho-hum. I'm here to work with a voice teacher who is based in this city, to visit a friend, and to check out the lay of the land.
07 May 2006
Another swan arriving
Alex Richardson, tenor, with Thomas Bagwell and Reiko Uchido, piano, bowing at the end of the final "On Wings of song" recital of the season, presented by the Marilyn Horne Foundation today at Saint Bartholemew's Church. The program theme was "Songs from 1900-1910," featuring works by Stanford, Ravel, Beach, and Mahler, sung with freshness, vigor, and plenty of ringing tone. Jackie herself got pretty excited, and showered Richardson and Bagwell with compliments during the post-recital interview. The recital will air on WQXR-FM 96.3 on Sat 20 May 2006, at 9:00pm.
Perhaps I've been under a rock for too long, but I've never seen supertitles in use at a recital. Notice the big white board in the pic over Alex's head and the piano. That's where large white text was projected, in English (even during the English-language songs). I squirmed at first, but after about three seconds I was used to it, and really greatful for it during the Ravel. Is this something the Horne Foundation is pioneering, or are people already installing it all over? I hope they are. It's pretty terrific. And yes, you can look away if you choose, it doesn't distract from the performers. The only drawback in this case was the obstruction of the beautiful frescoes on the chapel wall behind the performers. But that's hardly ever a problem in most concert halls.
04 May 2006
The Next Swan
Last night, Wednesday 3 May, Klaus Florian Vogt debuted at the Metropolitan Opera as Lohengrin, taking over the role from Ben Heppner who had otherwise sung the whole run of this season's production. I was in the audience, accompanied by Mr. Supersweetie, who had had no previous exposure to Wagner (talk about baptism by fire!)
Supersweetie survived the evening commendably. And despite his relative inexperience with this type (or any type) of opera, he was able to appreciate Vogt's unusual excellence.
Unlike many Heldentenöre (if that's how Vogt can be classified), Vogt's voice is completely free of baritonal huskiness. Not that baritonal huskiness is a bad thing -- I like it a lot of the time -- but the absence of that characteristic in this fach borders on the unimaginable. Vogt's Lohengrin is closer in impression to Ian Bostridge than James King, if you can imagine such a thing.
Before you succumb to nausea, let me try to explain. This voice lacks neither power nor volume. I really couldn't believe my ears. His Act I entrance was so tender and youthful-sounding, that I really thought he was a teenager. I feared the worst -- "how will he ever sing the rest of this opera?" (I even thought he might have been miked.) But the rest of the opera was absolutely effortless for him. I can't understand it.
This ease and lightness perfectly conveyed the purity of Lohengrin's character. It really worked. As the evening went on Vogt put more heft into his tone here and there, so it was clear that he had more to give when he wanted to. I'm pretty confident that the tonal purity was a musical choice and not a crutch. He was not undersinging.
However...
When Vogt sings other roles, does he put that hidden extra heft to use? I'm not sure that his Florestan would be as effective as his Lohengrin if he sings it the same way. It would be too pale. Bacchus maybe. But one wonders....
I've been trying to find other opinions about him on the web today. So far I see no gossip at all in the blogosphere. Was anyone else at the Met last night?
Supersweetie survived the evening commendably. And despite his relative inexperience with this type (or any type) of opera, he was able to appreciate Vogt's unusual excellence.
Unlike many Heldentenöre (if that's how Vogt can be classified), Vogt's voice is completely free of baritonal huskiness. Not that baritonal huskiness is a bad thing -- I like it a lot of the time -- but the absence of that characteristic in this fach borders on the unimaginable. Vogt's Lohengrin is closer in impression to Ian Bostridge than James King, if you can imagine such a thing.
Before you succumb to nausea, let me try to explain. This voice lacks neither power nor volume. I really couldn't believe my ears. His Act I entrance was so tender and youthful-sounding, that I really thought he was a teenager. I feared the worst -- "how will he ever sing the rest of this opera?" (I even thought he might have been miked.) But the rest of the opera was absolutely effortless for him. I can't understand it.
This ease and lightness perfectly conveyed the purity of Lohengrin's character. It really worked. As the evening went on Vogt put more heft into his tone here and there, so it was clear that he had more to give when he wanted to. I'm pretty confident that the tonal purity was a musical choice and not a crutch. He was not undersinging.
However...
When Vogt sings other roles, does he put that hidden extra heft to use? I'm not sure that his Florestan would be as effective as his Lohengrin if he sings it the same way. It would be too pale. Bacchus maybe. But one wonders....
I've been trying to find other opinions about him on the web today. So far I see no gossip at all in the blogosphere. Was anyone else at the Met last night?
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