Meeting and hearing genius

What do you get if you put together a violin and a piano? That’s easy, a violin sonata. What if you add two basses, a marimba, a vibraphone and a second piano, and put a conductor in front of the lot?

Then you have John Luther Adams’s brilliant 2001 piece The Light That Fills the World, performed last night on the Banff Centre’s Music for a Summer Evening series. Ransom conducted; the performers were mostly students here for the Strings and Winds Master Class and Mr. Adams was in attendance. In fact Ransom and I had lunch with him earlier in the day, before my trip to Canmore. (They've worked together before; I was just meeting him).

It was an intense and wonderful concert. Student composer Jean-Sélim Abdelmoula’s Variations fantômes opened the program, with the composer at the keyboard. To my ear it was moody and rapturous, showcasing a composer with great promise.

Another student, Jared Miller, introduced his Bloom for solo cello and mixed flute ensemble. Miller told us the piece was inspired by a bicycle ride on which he came across hundreds of birds singing in the trees above him. It was a charming piece that clearly owed a debt to John Luther Adams's songbirdsongs; you may remember that Ransom did that more layered work a few years back with Le Train Bleu; you can read a review here. For last night's piece Ransom was center stage, facing the audience, conducting the cellist to his left and eight flutists who were scattered throughout the theatre’s aisles.

The rest of the evening belonged to Mr. Adams. We heard two solo piano pieces, Among Red Mountains and Nunataks (Solitary Peaks), both convincingly played by Tyler Wottrich, and an emotional, strange and wonderful string quartet, The Wind in High Places, sensitively rendered by the Rolston String Quartet. In introducing the quartet Adams had warned us it would likely not sound like any string quartet we had heard before, since the instruments would all be played open stringed -- that is, the players do not use their fingers to stop the strings. He was right, I had never heard a quartet like it, and I found it intense and plaintive and absolutely compelling.

The highlight of the evening was The Light That Fills the World. It sits on a timeline that leads to Adam’s 2013 Pulitzer Prize and Grammy-winning Become Ocean a piece that has changed my understanding of modern classical music and given me hours of joy over repeated listenings. If you don't know it -- or even if you do -- go, now, and listen to it here.

The Banff Centre has a history with John Luther Adams.  In 2009 he premiered Inuksuit, a piece for 9-99 percussionists, in an outdoor venue on this beautiful campus. On the Summer Solstice that year the rains came hard and heavy until, fifteen minutes before time to make the decision whether to cancel, the clouds parted, the sky lightened and the concert went forward. How I wish I had been here that day.

I thoroughly enjoyed meeting John and I think I can say this about him: he will almost certainly never develop an ulcer, for he pours his emotions into his music, where they soothe and challenge and ennoble the listener. I can't wait to hear more.

It’s a small, huge world

I spent an hour this afternoon in Canmore, Alberta, a lovely little town about 25 km from Banff. It’s the furthest one can get on the local transit bus; I really just went for the ride. Turns out there was a farmer’s market today so I bought a few presents for the folks back home. It was a pleasant diversion.

I support mass transit whenever I can. I almost never take a New York taxi, preferring the subway instead. Here in Canada I bought a three-day bus pass for $17.50 ($13.50 US) and it proved its worth the first day.

The best part of the story though was the encounter I had at the transit office. A lovely Japanese woman sold me my pass and we had this exchange:

Me:  Where are you from?
She:  Japan.
Me:  Yes, but what city?
She:  Do you know Yokohama?
Me:  Yes, I lived not far from there, in Sagamihara.
She, tapping her chest while her eyes went wide:  I am from Sagamihara!

It was a remarkable moment. She told me she could hardly wait to tell her mother, who still lived there. So it truly is a small world, but as you look at some more pictures from this area, you can see that it’s truly a huge world too.

The Fairmont Banff Springs Hotel

From the top of Sulpher Mountain, via the Banff Gondola

The incredible Lake Louise

Lake Minnewanka

The joy (?) of traveling

I spent a lovely day with Ransom yesterday in the almost-too-beautiful-to-believe town of Banff, Alberta, Canada. He’s been coming here for years to the annual music festival; I was long overdue.

Most of the reason I kept putting it off is evident in my travel day schedule:

• 7:00am -- Wake up.
• 9:30am -- Drive to Newark after walking the dogs, feeding the dogs, changing the linens, doing a load of laundry, vacuuming the bedroom, walking the dogs again, and generally tidying up.
• 11:45am -- Arrive Newark hotel to store car.
• 12:00 pm -- Arrive airport.
• 2:45pm -- Begin a 3-hour flight on the most cramped plane I've ever been on after killing almost 3 hours in the airport (I hadn't been sure how long it would take to drive to Newark, find the hotel and stow the car).
• 5:45 pm -- Arrive Minneapolis for a 3-hour layover.
• 8:45pm -- Board another plane (far less cramped, thank the gods) for the 2.5 hour flight to Calgary.
• 11:30pm -- Get in HUGE line at immigration; maybe 800 people.
• 12:00am -- After hardly progressing for 30 minutes, talk agent into letting me skip the rest of the line, pointing to my cane and putting on my best pained face.
• 12:30am -- Board Banff Airporter shuttle.
• 2:30am -- Arrive Banff Centre to join Ransom.

 Let me help with the math: 19.5 hours! (Note: I didn't adjust the times above so as to make the process clearer).

The hero of the story is, once again, my Scottish cane. You may remember that when it was new it got me bumped to Business Class on a flight from Amsterdam. I can guarantee you that, had I not played the cripple card I would not have made the last shuttle of the day to Banff. I would have had to find a hotel in Calgary, of that I am sure.

Sometimes there is a silver lining to being old and feeble.

And the silver lining in all that traveling? Here it is:

And here are some photos I took today

Where we're staying

Student dorm; mountains in distance

Big sky, big mountains

Beauty everywhere you look

Bear-proof trash and recycling

This guy was no more than 10 feet from me as I walked the road!

Broadway woes

I've had many wonderful Broadway experiences that I’ll never forget – and, alas, many I'm sure I loved but don't really remember. In the latter category there’s Sideman with Edie Falco and Christian Slater, The Judas Kiss with Liam Neeson, and, incredibly, Long Day’s Journey into Night with Vanessa Redgrave, Brian Dennehy, Philip Seymour Hoffman and one of my all-time favorites, Robert Sean Leonard. I remember seeing Journey and I think I have a few visual images filed in what’s left of my brain, but I don't honestly remember the show.

Thankfully, there are other shows I remember well: the original Sweeney Todd with Angela Lansbury and Len Cariou, South Pacific at Lincoln Center, Hugh Jackman in Oklahoma!, Christopher Plummer’s King Lear, Lincoln Center’s amazing Carousel with a young Audra McDonald, director John Doyle’s brilliant Company, A Chorus Line 8 times, Brian Dennehy and Christopher Plummer in Inherit the Wind, Patrick Stewart’s brilliant one-man Christmas Carol, Tom Stoppard’s word-rich Arcadia and another Lincoln center winner, Anything Goes with Patti LuPone as Reno Sweeney.

If I had to choose one scene that blew me away more than any other it might well be Jennifer Holliday bringing down the house with "And I Am Telling You I'm Not Going" from Dreamgirls. It was breathtaking.

But if I had to choose one show that I loved above all the others Angels in America would likely lose by just a breath to the Royal Shakespeare Company’s Nicholas Nickleby, which Ransom and I saw on September 15, 1986. It was nine and a-half hours of astounding theatre, brilliantly acted. 41-year-old Roger Rees, who was heart-racingly wonderful, played the title character.

I learned yesterday that Roger Rees died of cancer in New York at age 71. I never saw him on stage again though I did love the show he directed with Alex Timbers in 2012, Peter and the Starcatcher. It was as cleverly staged as Nick Nick with far fewer props and sets. (You may also know Rees from his roles on The West Wing and Cheers).

We have lost a genius.

The other theatre news is almost as distressing. By now you've likely read about Patti LuPone’s cell phone grab during a performance of Shows for Days. Perhaps you've read her honest comments about people’s behavior in the theatre. She is disheartened by it, as am I and, I presume, most theatre lovers.

Six years ago Ransom and I went to see Hairspray on my birthday. We pretty much hated it, but whether we most hated what was on stage or what was behind us is a toss-up. A hideously fat woman and her three depressingly fat children talked and carried on non-stop. When I politely – and yes, I was polite – asked her to please bring it down a notch she roared, “Hell no, we paid a lot of money for these seats and we're going to enjoy ourselves.”

Between the candy unwrapping, the drink slurping, the talking, texting and taking – of pictures – I am not an alarmist to worry about the future of live theatre.

We are a rude people. We are a selfish people. I'm not telling you anything you don't already know.

La LuPone and I are pissed.

There ain’t room enough in this dress for both of us!

Forty-five years later that line still brings a smile to my face. Do you recognize it? How about this exchange: 

Where am I?
You can’t get there from here.

 Or this: "It had been snowing in Santa Barbara since the top of the page."

All three of these minor gems come from the Firesign Theatre’s brilliant skit The Further Adventure of Nick Danger as performed on their album "How Can You Be in Two Places at Once When You’re Not Anywhere At All". Back in 1969-1970 I listened to that album so much that today I can still mouth almost every word as the players recite them. It’s weird and silly and self-aware (“No, no, no, you don't understand how radio works. This is my flashback; all I have to do to return us to the present is fade my voice out like this and cue the organist.”)

I've been meaning to listen to that album since I read the sad news that Phil Austin died on June 18. He played Private I Nick Danger and I felt like I lost a relative when he passed. And what a treat it was to hear Austin and his troupe's work again; still wonderful.

I've been walking down Memory Mile a lot lately -- in truth I always do that a lot. First there was Felix Cavaliere of the Rascals, then the multi-group boomer show a week later and last night it was the Tokens and the Drifters at a free outdoor concert in Hamden, CT.

The Tokens were great, even though, to me and most of the audience, they were a one-hit wonder. They hit the Top 40 with Tonight I Fell in Love (1960), I Hear Trumpets Blow (1966) and their version of Steve Lawrence’s hit, Portrait of My Love (1967).  But of course the reason anyone was there last night was to hear them sing the iconic doo-wop anthem, The Lion Sleeps Tonight. They closed their set with that #1 monster hit and sang it beautifully; all these years later lead singer Jay Siegel can still hit those incredible high notes.

Yes, that was the original LP cover

Before that they sang their other “hits” and perfectly acceptable versions of Runaround Sue and The Wanderer, See You in September, Silhouettes, What’s Your Name and several other 50-year old treasures.  Siegel’s chatter was interesting and smooth, with just enough rock and roll trivia to keep us happy. Ex: did you know that an early member of the Tokens was Neil Sedaka? (Me neither).

The Tokens were excellent showmen, fully competent musicians and backed by a strong band—everything you want in an oldies act.

Then came the "Drifters". I was primed to be awed. I couldn't wait to hear Up on the Roof, On Broadway, Spanish Harlem, Save the Last Dance for Me and their other hits. They had been much bigger than the Tokens and what a show they could put on.

Could put on.

Didn’t.

There was only one original member of the Drifters on stage, Charley Thomas; missing were Clyde McPhatter, the original lead singer, and Ben E King, the best lead singer to ever front the group. Missing too was energy. The guys on stage last night were dressed well, choreographed well enough and sang acceptably but they totally sucked the energy out of the crowd. Whereas the Tokens had pumped us up, made us reminisce and laugh and gotten a big response when they asked us to sing along, the “Drifters” came across as a pale imitation of who they had been.

Sometimes Thomas Wolfe is right.