A memoir of an American, living in Europe, and his encounters with Art, Opera, Culture, Religion, Cuisine, Peoples and the daily encounters with European living.
Well, it has been over a year since my last blog-post, and now as I prepare to depart for South Africa, where I hope to be able to document my three week tour, I have decided that I better bring the past events up to the present. But where do I begin?
View outside my Window at Solesmes
Thomas in Hannover
In June of 2013, when I departed for Solesmes, France? There where I spent 8 months praying, singing and living as a novice in the Benedictine monastery of Solesmes? Or my wildly inconsistent courses in French at the University Catholique de l'Ouest in Angers, France, studying along with students from around the world who all longed to speak "la plus belle langue du Monde," and where I lived during the weekdays with the Servants des Pauvres? And then of course there is the carefully planned, joint-decision, to depart the Monastery in February of 2014 and move back to Gütersloh, Germany and resume life and adventures with Thomas Jaschke.
In Costume
Anita and Gernot
Do I then write about my months spent living outside of Frankfurt, Germany from May to August with dear friends and their pet pig, while I struggled to learn German at the Goethe Institute, and at the same time take part in rehearsals and 18 performances of Franz Lehar's frothy operetta, "Die Lustige Witwe," with Kammeropera Frankfurt?
Vienna
Strasbourg with friend
And then there are unforgettable adventures like our bike tour from Vienna to Bratislava, enjoying opera on the square and Sacher Torte, and later in Bratislava where I led a little city tour for our friends. Or the week-long stay in a tiny Gîte (country home) in the diverse region of the Alsace, featuring daily excursions to picturesque wine-towns, unforgettable walks through the impressive city of Strasbourg with its massive, rose-hued Cathedral, and the historical impressions of Colmar and its unsettling depiction of Christ's "Crucifixion" by Grünewald.
Grünewald
Seattle Friends
And hard on its heals are trips to Berlin where we met up with Seattle friends and dined on top of the Bundestag. Then a chance meeting in Detmold with Seattle Opera's former Gen. Director and a performance of Donizetti's beloved "L'elisir d'amore." Afterwards it was a trip to charming Munich with a pilgrimage to Kloster Andechs. Simply stunning baroque architecture, not to mention great beer and pig knuckle!
August Macke
A Walk Along the Rhine
C'est la Vie
Soon afterwards was a whirlwind weekend where we spent an evening in Bonn, taking in an exhibition of the paintings of Marc and Macke, then a long walk along the Rhine, and in the evening a fantastic symphony at Beethoven Hall where, by the end of the concert, the orchestra and audience literally danced out of their seats. And in the morning, a sojourn to find the best croissants outside of France. Afterwards it was onto Münster where we visited the newly opened Landesmuseum and celebrated the 750th Jubilee of the Cathedral, just making it in time for a packed Vesper service sung in exotic-hued Hindi. Our evening was then divided between a rock concert in front of the Market Church and a little later, a Spectacle by a French light designer who transformed the side of the Cathedral into a glowing stage for 30 minutes of beautiful and evocative images and story-telling through pictures, while a live orchestra and choir filled the air with celestial song. (Here is a link to the 30 minute video - which you can skip around in to get a feel for this breath-taking spectacle).
Joyce DiDonato
S. Africa Companions
The next morning brought us to Osnabrück, where we met with our fellow South African travel companions and attended a small but impressive presentation of the South African "Garden Route" by the neighbors who had recently returned, featuring thrilling images of them amidst wild Lions and stories about their unforgettable experiences. Lastly, we drove to Essen in order to hear the sparkling voice of American mezzo-soprano, Joyce DiDonato, who dazzled us with her Bel-Canto technique in arias from Napoli. And even if in deciding to meet her afterwards caused us to miss our train and spend the night in a hotel, I don't think we would have traded the experience for anything.
Silly
Paul and Carla in Haarlem
An Angel sings in Haarlem
And finally, my last recent adventure brought me to Amsterdam where I stayed with a dear friend in her impressive Condo, which she shares with a lovely cat named "Silly," and who's little pug-face is enough to make any cranky soul burst into laughter. It was in Amsterdam that I met up with a beloved colleague, from my days at Seattle Symphony, and her boyfriend, and with whom I spent time dining on delicious Indonesian cuisine and laughing as if I had just remembered how. The following day took me to Haarlem, where I explored this pretty Dutch oasis with my friend, catching a private concert of an angelic soprano in the gothic cathedral, enjoyed delicious cakes, learned about the modernistic techniques of 17th c. Dutch painter, Franz Hals, and washed it down with the fried flavors of Belgian Frites, mayo and beer.
And that catches us up, in a way, to the present. Of course the details are fuzzy, but I might just have to leave that long corridor of the past unclear for a time, allowing it to rise to the surface at different points as the memories of this wonderful past year and a half continue sorting themselves out to charm my next steps. There will will more chances to write about France later.
It is now time to look to the future and prepare for our adventure to South Africa. I can't wait to share the details with you when I have time to write again.
We are having a "pause" in the Posthorn Inn in the town of Weisman. What started as a potty-break for the girls has descended into a full 3 course lunch. Considering that much of today's soggy 80 km.'s has consisted of nonstop sheets of rain and duck-drowning puddles the size of swimmable lakes, this pause is as much a relief from the weather as it is a chance to speak with Mother Nature.
But rain is something you can find in Seattle, Tahiti, Paris or Tokyo. If one traveled only in perfect weather we would miss out on many of life's most interesting adventures. This particular bike trip, an annual event for Thomas and many of his oldest friends, occurs in late May, coinciding with Corpus Christi and the last, 3 day weekend in May. The weather should be stunning and considering that we have come to Bavaria, where the German summer typically comes early, this cold rain in which you can see your moving breath, is as much of a surprise for us as it is for Bavaria.
Still, not for a second have we allowed the clouds to dampen our spirits or rain out our picnic. When the rain threatened to capsize things, good old Ulli would wave us over to the Lidl Market where he had chocolate ice cream bars for everyone. Outside we would stand like happy kids, laughing at the weather and talking with the locals who all had tour questions or biking comments. Eventually the rain would let up and everyone would set out again, refreshed and ready for the road.
Of course we still have found plenty of beautiful fields to enjoy as the rain highlights the gold and red flowers bursting out against the young green wheat. Or the almost electric green of the forests as we duck under their dense foliage for temporary cover as the forest shimmers down droplets overhead. But then there are also castles, called “burgs," full of history, paintings and artifacts from 1100 ad. There are beautiful baroque churches with gorgeous statues including this one of the Virgin Mary who is ready for a feast day. And then there are the actual local catholic processions in honor of Corpus Christi, parades through the town with the cross in front and the local oomph-a band keeping time, with occasional pizzicatti blasts from a canon as the priest blesses the people, before all make their way to the local Kneipe to enjoy the regional beer, perhaps hefeweisen, zwieke, Pilz or franken.
Then of course there are the unendingly fascinating conversations over dinners of brats, trout, knoedel or sauerbraten. On this particular journey I am keeping company with a number of doctors, lawyers and even an award winning, world renowned chemist-professor. Yet despite the degrees there are no airs from anyone, except perhaps from a surly Frankish waitress who wants to go home despite everyone else wanting another beer.
Of great interest for everyone is the topic of music. For me Germany is the home of “Holy German Art" created by Wagner, Schumann, Bach and Beethoven. Yet compared to many of these folks, I am trapped in the wrong century. And yet of my own culture's music I find that many Germans here are experts. Get one of them on the topic of Jimi Hendricks, James Taylor or David Bowie and you will have attended a university-level lecture on the art of guitar playing, instrument making or recording techniques. Trust me, they know their stuff. But that doesn't make it dry, no, rather rock music is a language of self-expression that is unknown or perhaps unavailable for them in their own language. Considering how difficult breaking out of the baroque box of the 17th.c., which walls in the lives of many Europeans, it begins to make complete expressive sense. And that my own culture appears to lack this history to me, begins to explain my own adoration of all things ancient and European. So interestingly enough I begin to learn more about my home from outsiders as they do of theirs from me.
One universal language we all speak fluently is cuisine, and one night of over the top gourmet cuisine from the kitchen of one of Germany's most celebrated and lauded chefs, who just happens to also have a popular cooking show on TV, is something we can all agree on as delicious! One gimmick that really works in his favor, besides proximity to the temple of Wagner in Bayreuth, is his take on tapas. Though originally a traditional 3 course restaurant, this chef adapted Spain's love of the small plates into a great stage for his theatrical cuisine. Now an appetizer comes as three different but highly complimentary small plates to tempt and tease each and every tongue. And though still a 3 course dinner, suddenly you can enjoy nine courses as your palette explores the globe of flavor, taste and texture. And nothing is better than sharing a plate with someone, especially when all you want is a taste. Even if it comes as a last minute decision, regrets are only as small as the portions, but we never have them.
But a bike tour is about biking and I promise that we most certainly biked, and I have the pain and memory of several 80 km days in my legs as proof. But against the panorama of giant green forests, fields awash in bloom and fairytale towns with plenty of coffee and kuchen to keep you from your path, there are also the UNESCO world heritage sites like the Baroque Church of the 14 Saints (Vierzehn Heiligen) which was definitely a sacrifice as you ascend the steep mountain terrain leading up to the pilgrimage church designed by Balthazar Neumann. It doesn't even have to involve religion when you step into this whipped wonder which has welcomed pilgrims and sinners alike, in addition to tired travelers, for centuries. This was my second encounter with the church and though brief, it still managed to lift my spirits and enchant my weary eyes.
Still there is nothing like finally reaching your evening destination after many long hours of peddling up and down hills, rerouting due to flooded trails, fixing bike issues or exchanging whole bikes for ones with working breaks...pulling into that night’s hotel is like a deep breath after emerging from the deepest water. Of course it is into water we all go once we are unpacked, for the evening ritual always includes a sauna and then a bracing swim in the pool. Tired limbs feel rejuvenation and weary souls find rest in the hot steam and cool submerging waters of each hotel spa. Afterwards all come together for the nightly meal and much appreciated stein of delicious local beer. Then it's stories, laughter, studded with moments of listening and then more laughter until someone announces their departure which ushers the exodus of all. And let me tell you, you haven't slept till you've enjoyed a hard days ride, a plate of wurst and a thick dark Bavarian Bock beer. You are quite literally “sleeping with the angels."
Then at 7:30 am the alarm goes off and you begin the process all over again with a hearty breakfast and reconnoitering at 9am to set out for the next day's destination.
Though I have spent time in Bavaria there is simply nothing quite like it from the back of a bike. And to book end my journey, in a way, I shall recall briefly the first time I came to Europe years ago with Perry.
Bayreuth was our destination and is where we made our home for 2 weeks while Perry lectured on 8 Wagner operas being performed that summer in Bayreuth. My recollections are of a steamy town burning up in the summer sun, confusing experiences in a world renowned theater with operas I did not fully appreciate or understand, suffering under the petty weight of a bad outbreak of acne on my face and having utterly no understanding of Europe, Europeans, culture nor an ounce of personal savoir faire. I regret that my greatest experiences was obliterated and nearly ruined under the weight of my huge and overwhelming stupidity and narcissism. If you can read my words in heaven Perry, pace.
But this obscene failure is what ultimately set the stage for my future European travels and eventually this glorious return with Thomas and his friends aboard 18 bicycles. Even a little rain could not ruin this exultant moment riding up the great hill towards the theater where I first encountered Wagner and his Parsifal, Tristan und Isolde, Das Rheingold, Die Walküre, Siegfried, Götterdämmerung, and Die Meistersinger. Over the years I would hear and see many of these operas many times and though this time it was merely to pay homage to a memory, I know that I will be back one day for real to hear a Wagner opera in his theater, perhaps with Thomas, and I will recall again with new joy all that Perry Lorenzo taught me one summer in Germany.
Today though our tour ends in the beautiful jewel box of a town call
Würzburg. Here too have I been once before with Thomas when we met at the Kloster of Munsterschwarzach for a few days retreat before my departure to Prague. This time we had more time to walk through the gilded streets with decorations adorning every doorpost, lintel, nook and cranny upon which a putti can fit. Walking through the time warped town which echoes with the sounds of Mozart and the whoosh of silken damask gowns across the cobbled streets makes one grateful that the bombs of WWII bypassed this jewel.
And as we walked up the great Dom amidst groups from Asia and beyond and entered into the giant church, we were greeted by Germany’s famous Bamberg Rider, a symbol of human dignity and nobility. He sits high on a ledge and watches over the tomb of King Heinrich and his beloved wife Queen Cunegonde, who is said to have walked over burning plowshares once to prove her innocence. Together these two nobles lie on a tomb designed and chiseled by Germany's greatest artist, in my opinion, Tielman Riemanschneider, encircled by famous scenes from the tale of their lives. And what could simply be flat scenes in cold stone become living images of pulsating veins, swirling robes, fluttering wings, emotion laden gestures and the pangs of death itself. Each of the 5 scenes is an opera in stone and would inspire Michelangelo himself if he were ever to have come to Germany back in the 16th c.
All the beauty makes one aware of one thing, hunger, so bidding farewell to the Bamberg Rider, King Heinrich and Queen Cunegonde, we make our way to the Bamberg Hofbraü to savor brats, white asparagus, potato dumplings and Bamberger Beer, which we decide is too bitter to our tastes. But good food is good food, and off we go back through the town to reach the Bahnhof, where we enjoy one last treat...coffee and cake at the McCafe! Well, vacation time is over and we have to return to the real world sometime, and embracing it with open eyes and clear conscience is better than having it forced over you with pushed out hands and down-turned face. Instead we smiled and ate our cakes with joy and paid tribute to the memory of our great trip.
By this time our large group had become a troop of four, having said our slow goodbyes over the afternoon. One friend said it best when she said, “I hate goodbyes" to which I said “So let’s all just say hello." And if all things go well we shall all say hello again next year, in Vienna...to enjoy another incredible bike tour exploring Europe, great cuisine and local cultures...just don't forget to bring the beer and chocolates! Till next year my new friends: Uli, Uli, Ulricha, Renate, Mücka, Wolfgang, Andrea, Peter, Angela, Susannah, Martin, Wolf, Christina, Gedrune and of course, Thomas.
The three hour bus ride to Brussels went by in a flash and before I could enjoy Monserrat Caballe's unexplainable, unwritten and unending B natural at the end of the greatest of all Metropolitan Opera live-broadcasts from '72, Verdi's opera, Don Carlos, we were pulling into Brussels, the historic capital of Belgium. In Belgium the architecture is neo-classical, the tri-colored flag soars over the palace, infinite varieties of Belgium chocolates and beer are sold on every street corner, pots of delicious mussels with a side of frites can be found in almost every restaurant and the trees are manicured to the perfection of Versailles - it is like France, only better.
The afternoon of arrival was spent exploring this gothic wonderland who's "Grande Place," is at the heart of all non-political activities in Brussels. It is where everyone comes to be seen, meet up with friends, enjoy an espresso and soak up the good life. This weekend the three day international Jazz festival serenaded tourists and locals alike with music resonating off of every corner of the square, including the towering gothic Hotel de Ville, the endless rows of outdoor restaurants, and every beloved chocolate shop known to man. And just a few steps away, peeing with pride before all the nations on earth without an ounce of shame, stood the famous Manneken Pis. Though slightly silly as a town mascot, its light-hearted celebration of public urination perfectly captures the spirit of the laid-back, happy-go-lucky Belgians who are no more self-conscious then this fun little guy, and yet still carry about them an undeniable air of sophistication.
The evening was capped off by an updated and feisty performance of Mozart's third Da Ponte opera, Cosi fan Tutte(aka: They All do It) at La Monnaie, the gorgeously plush opera house in Brussels. As operas go it is truly irreverent and even down-right shocking in its attitudes towards sexual misconduct, the game of love and sexual impropriety. It is in some ways the comic foil to Leclos's much darker, Les Laisons Dangereuse. That Mozart can spin the tragedy of two infidelities into a comic masterpiece that continues to vex critics, directors and audiences alike, is proof of his artistic genius. This updated, sleek version from Spain was conducted with buoyancy and aplomb by Seattle Symphony's Music Director, Ludovic Morlot. And if everything was not completely seamless in the pit, part of which is due to the director's specific orders to the singers to "not to watch the conductor!" Ludo himself urged everyone at the post-performance reception to return over the next five years to La Monnaie to hear his steady transformation of this orchestra into one of the world's finest.
The remaining days were spent in further exploration of this interesting city, walking up to the newer section of Brussels with its grand boulevards, neo-classical architecture, pretty parks, magical churches, bracing vistas and enchanting neighborhoods, perfect for shopping and/or enjoying one of those delicious Belgium beers while you watch rolls of crowds stroll by. Standing at the highest peak gives one a clear view of just how vast Brussels has become. Like many European cities it is much larger than its quaint "Old City Center," and on further exploration reveals that it is very much a city within a city. But two days can only scratch the surface of such a town who's history is as rich as her chocolates, who's mischievous little mascot is a baby boy peeing and where cuisine and beer come close to a national religion, all of which makes Brussels -a romantic city, full of fabulous sight-seeing and one swell stop on your next European adventure.
