Everything's beautiful at the ballet - especially the past!

We just got back from the Ballet - an evening of George Balanchine - and it was lovely.  I was looking forward to it, because I genuinely like Balanchine.  It evokes something in me, that I really couldn't give expression to.  This evening, I sort of figured it out.

The first ballet was danced to Mozart's Divertimento No. 15, and it was all bows and doublets - very pretty.  The guy sitting next to me, attending his first ballet, saw through it however.  "So athletic!" he said to me.  He was impressed.  I didn't realize it, but the evening was going to work back in time, with this ballet being choreographed in 1956.  The style of the ballets were going to do the opposite, showing the development of a more angular and spare form.  This was Balanchine's classicism, however, and exhibited the basics from which he would draw the line and movement that accentuated his later work.  Beautiful and pretty, I was looking forward to something else, however.

The next ballet was the Scotch Symphony by Mendelssohn.  It reminded me of Simon Callow's line in Four Weddings and a Funeral, "It's Brigadoon!" And indeed it was, with laced bodices, at least four or five tartans, and all the classical Scottish moves.  Choreographed in 1952, it again exhibited the classic vocabulary that Balanchine was to use, this time flavored with a bit of haggis.  Appearing to be a story ballet, with a set to match, it was difficult to figure out who the characters were.  It was really all about the dancing, however.  The characters were just vehicles for style and convention.  What was clear, however, was the dancing's absolute connection to the music.  Each nuance, and each development of the music was expressed in the choreography.

Finally, we arrived at The Four Temperaments, set to Paul Hindemith's The Four Temperaments: Theme with Four Variations for String Orchestra and Piano.  This is the Balanchine that I know and love, and I think that this is my favorite of all ballets.  What I find so beautiful in this ballet is its strict angularity and power.  There is a moment in the first variation that defines this ballet for me.  A quartet of women enter 

on a diagonal from the upper corner of stage left, approaching dancers that have just finished several passages.  There is a full extension of the right leg that is brought down and then a pelvic thrust.  It is very powerful, and is repeated as a theme in each of the variations.  It is this movement along with hand gestures that are somewhat Egyptian in flavor that give the punch of this ballet as far as I am concerned.

For all of its movement, and sometimes lithe gestures, it is strident and modern in its approach.  When I thought about writing down my thoughts about this ballet I imagined that it had been choreographed in the sixties, but it was not.  It was first performed in 1946!  In comparison to the other two, it seemed so much beyond them.

Sometime in late 1956, walking home from Immanuel Lutheran School, in Albuquerque, New Mexico, I saw a new 1957 Ford.  It was for me the quintessence of the future (along with the GM Technical Center, Noguchi furniture, and a Philco television).  I thought that the future was going to be wonderful and full of hope.  Little did I know that there would be a Vietnam war, and that every social institution that I was connected with (the church, ministry, Christianity, heterosexuality, and being a male) would all soon be sinking ships.  This modernism stuck with me.  I liked modern churches and buildings.  I thought that futurism was progress - and still do.  The retrograde nature of our times is disturbing to me.  This ballet with all of its straightforward character and lines spoke to me again of my 1957 hopes and joy in the future.  It was good to reconnect!

Tuna in a tomato, leek, and orange broth with brown rice

There was a bowl of vine ripened tomatoes sitting in our vegetable and fruit display on the kitchen counter.  They needed to be used soon, and they stuck in my mind as I did some grocery shopping today.  Here's what I came up with.

This recipe serves two

Ingredients:

3/4 pounds of Ahi Tuna cut into two pieces
Olive Oil
Salt and Pepper

1 cup Brown Rice
2 1/4 cups water
1 Tablespoon Butter
Salt and Pepper
1 cup sliced Crimini Mushrooms
1/2 cup dry White Wine

4 Tomatoes
2 Leeks
1 clove Garlic chopped
1 cup fresh Orange Juice
3/4 cup Clam Juice
1 pinch Red Pepper Flakes
1 cup Green Beans cut into 1 inch pieces

1.  Preheat oven to 450º, and place a lined frying pan into the oven.
2. Place the tuna into a dish and dress with olive oil, salt, and pepper and set aside.
3.  Bring to a boil the water for the rice, along with the butter, salt, and pepper.  When the water has come to a boil, add the rice and when it returns to a boil, cover, and let simmer on low for 35 minutes.  When finished, let sit for ten minutes covered.

4.  Saute the mushrooms in butter, and add salt and pepper.  Add the wine, until it boils away, then set aside
5.  Blanch the tomatoes and remove their skins and then chop
6.  Slice the leeks and chop the garlics and add to 1 tablespoon of olive oil and butter each.  Saute until the leeks are tender.
7.  Add the chopped tomatoes and red pepper flakes and cook for 15 minutes uncovered.
8.  Place the cooked tomatoes in a food processor, and pulse until all the ingredients are well blended.
9.  Force the tomato mixture through a sieve and return to the pan.
10. Add the orange juice and cook for 5 minutes.
11. Add the clam juice, and let heat on low.
12. Cook the green beans for 4 - 5 minutes in boiling water, drain and add to broth.
13. Add cooked mushrooms to the rice and mix.
14. Add the tuna pieces to the pan, and roast for 5 minutes a side.

Presentation

1.  Place a scoop or the rice in a large soup bowl.
2.  Place a tuna piece so that it leans on the rice.
3.  Pour the broth/green bean mixture around the edges of the rice/tuna.

Serendipity and Living

The serendipity of life is over-whelming at times.  Randomly, and without warning, the universe supplies a new context – a new resource – a new point of reference.  On a Saturday, some weeks ago, Arthur and I were enjoying brunch at a new restaurant in Dogpatch, Piccino, on Minnesota Street.  Seated next to us were a couple of men, our age, and a few comments were passed, back and forth, over the course of the meal.  A couple of weeks later we were again at Piccino, and again this couple walked in.  This time the shared comments were longer, more in depth, and made more enchanting by our remembrance, each of the other.  We determined that we could not allow the possibility of meeting to be governed by the randomness of our meeting at this restaurant – so another meeting was arranged where we had brunch together.

Meeting and talking with Alex and Martin was like spending time with old friends.  We shared family stories, religious stories, San Francisco stories, relationship stories – in short, we shared life.  At the end of our time together we were honored to be invited to be present at Alex’s bar mitzvah later in February.  We accepted it and wrote it down in our household calendar, and wondered what this might bring.

Mission Dolores, San Francisco

Arthur found a parking place a couple of blocks from the synagogue – so we took it, affording us the opportunity for a leisurely stroll through the Mission Dolores area.  There was architecture to look at, coffee and a croissant (or poppy seed cake with icing) to be had, people to watch, and the warm sunshine along with a rather coolish breeze accompanying us along the way.  Arthur had provided yamakas, one from a synagogue he had visited in Amsterdam, and another from the Jewish Community Center.  However when we entered, we were provided special yamakas made of purple leather, imprinted with Alex’s name and the date of his bar mitzvah.

Siddur Sha'ar Zahav

First we were handed a Siddur, a prayer book.  This one was produced by the congregation itself.  I realized quickly on that I would have to have one of my own.  These were offered to us by Paul, a man who took us in hand, and introduced us to the liturgy, bit by bit.  The starting time, however, soon dissolved as the members of the congregation and guests visited with one another and provided a feeling of belonging and being made welcome

The Ark at Sha'ar Zahav

I sat there in my seat and just looked.  There were the faces – smiling, and the conversation.  Tallitim (prayer shawls) were being thrown over shoulders by men and women, some were simple in their strips and fringe, and others were more elaborate with worked collars of silver or gold.  It is about that time, staring at the ark, and the colored glass that surrounded it, that I began to well up.  I mentioned to Arthur that I was becoming emotional.  Image upon image, word upon word, and prayer upon prayer kept me swimming in a sea of remembrance and something like anticipation.  It was wonderful to see a community construct itself, and then to enter the ritual.  The words I knew from a different context, and here they seemed to have the same meaning as they were prayed in Hebrew.  I stumbled along with that.  There was the rhythm of prayer by Paul who was standing next to me.  An Auschwitz survivor who read Torah for us.  As the Torah was carried about the room I looked at the wonder in the eyes of the children. I was keenly aware that I wanted to be, and somehow was, deeply connected to all of this. 

The Torah Covers at Sha'ar Zahav

As the Kaddish was said, the lives of gay and lesbian people were remembered, and soon Arthur and I were both having difficulty saying the words as a thousand memories or friends who had died came to mind.  I wondered as we said the words, and sang the songs, if the members of the Ringel family, my mother’s mother’s family, had sung these songs and said these words in times past.  I wondered how much of this was in my blood and in the memories that come with birth.  If only people could experience the beauty of shared faith, and the mystery of prayer in another language.  What a morning!

Thank you Alex, and thank you Martin.

Change and Decay

Day 12 - Tuesday, 6 December 2011, Berlin, München

It's time to leave Berlin.  We have breakfast and say good bye to the wonderful staff at Hansablick, especially Monica and Peter.  They are really kind and helpful.  We cab over to Tegel, and go to the Lounge to await our flight.  Loading is a bit of a madhouse - this is not true of all German airports, but does seem typical of Tegel.  The flight is uneventful, and we arrive in München in good time.  At first it appears that my luggage has been lost, but the efficient Lufthansa system quickly locates it at one carousel away.  We take the slower of the two S Bahn options into the city (1 hour) gat off at Marianplatz and walk to our hotel - one that we are unfamiliar with.  Hotel am Markt seems nice enough, small rooms, but clean and well furnished.  There's a bathtub and shower, but no shower curtain - so it will be baths for all.

We settle in and then go out for a walk.  It is bitter cold by the Markets make the evening festive.  In searching for a place to have dinner (and having no luck) we stumble into the neighborhood in which we usually stay and discover some change and decay.  First of all Bodo's, a wonderful Conditerei, is now something else.  The picture above shows my mother have a Bodo confection in 2008.  Walking further on we discover that our usual hotel, Herzog Wilhelm, has been sold and is being revamped under another name, and it's Restaurant, Tannenbaum, is being changed as well.  (No wonder they didn't return our calls or our email!)  Ah well, happy memories.

We go further on to the passage that leads to Asamskirche and have dinner at a small be rather good restaurant.  We are tired, however, after the dinner and beat a quick path back to the hotel.

Not finding, and then finding.

Day 11 - 5 December 2011, Spandau and Berlin

We have to keep remembering why we came here.  It was not for museums, churches, and public buildings (although we are always drawn to such venues) it was for the Weinachtsmarketen.  So, with that in mind, we go out to Spandau, and the suggestion of our waitress from last evening.  I've been out once before, when I went to see the Olympiastadion, which was all fenced off while they remodeled.  So I went on to Spandau, curious about the place where Speer and others spent a great deal of time thinking about things.

It is very cold when we get there, but the people on the street seem to be living in some other climate.  They seem to love it.  We, on the other hand, are constantly jumping into some place for hot chocolate or tea.  We wander all the markets, and they all seem the same: Glühwein, wurst, und holzwerk.  We investigate the Rathaus and wonder when it was built - it seems pre-war, but we're not too sure.  What is a delight, as we wander about looking for an Adventspyramid, is Saint Nicholas Church, a Lutheran church of the far end of town.

It's a medieval building, carefully restored after the war, and with some liturgical sensibility as well.  There is a chapel for the Krippe and the Virgin.

There is a wonderful medieval crucifix, and contemporary liturgical art as well, but what really captures my attention is a painting that stands near the prayer lights in the back of the church.  It seems to depict an archducal ceremony held at St. Nicholas in the 18th Century.  The (Lutheran) Bishop of Brandenburg is communing the Kurfurst with other members of the Court in attendance.  The bishop is wearing a cassock/robe(?) with a surplice and a cope.  In the foreground there is a deacon in dalmatic and a thurifer with his smoking thurible.  I want to find out more about this painting because it seems to document that Lutheran parishes maintained vestments and other practices well into the 18th or even 19th centuries before the forced union.

We're cold and disappointed in the quality of the markets, (and a very slow lunch) and head back to Berlin.  We plan to go hear an Advent concert at St. Norbert Church.  It's a student concert again, and this time it is choral, and choral direction students.  They do a good job and we are well satisfied.  Following the concert we train back to Tiergarten, and have dinner at Quelle again.  The family that invited us to share a table with them the other evening, now come in, and it is we who invite them to join us.  There is a long conversation about church, government, taste, vocations, growing up in the DDR, and universal brotherhood - all quite satisfying.  What wonderful people they are.  

Those Prussians!

Day 10 - Sunday, 4 December 2011 - Spree, Berliner Dom, und Gendarmenmarkt

The last time we were here we took a delightful cruise on the River Spree from near our hotel at Hansablick around the center part of Berlin.  We loved it and thought that we would try it again.  We were able to take the cruise, but a much shorter one.  We went from near the Berliner Dom to around the National Library, and then back to near the Chancellery, and then back - about an hour.  Not as fun, but pleasantly warm inside with a hot chocolate.

Arthur wanted to go see the Berliner Dom, so we did.  When I was in England in March of 2010, I went to Windsor and as a part of my time there I went to see St. George's.  The quire there blew me away with all of its flags and heraldry.  One wondered where the Church was in the midst of all this.  The same is true at the Berliner Dom.  Built for the self-aggrandizement of the Hohenzollern family it (like the Kaisewilhemgedächniskirche is more about the Gospel of Prussian government than anything else.

As a piece of architecture it is overdone and overwrought.  As a church it is underdone in its ability to convey the Gospel.  I was reminded of the Medici chapel that is attached to St. Laurence in Florence, where huge statues of the Medici princes overwhelm the worship space below - well it was a funerary church after all.  The Hohenzollerns had the same plans for the Berliner Dom.  Along with Luther and Zwingli (oh, yeah, these are the guys that forced the union of the Lutheran and Reformed churches) there stand larger-than-life statues of their princes as well.  The original cathedral was planed as a three-stage operation.  A predigt church for Eucharist and Preaching, a taufkirche for baptisms and weddings, and a grabmalkirche, for the entombment of family members (an attempt to be like the Kapuzinerkirche in Wein, where all the Habsburgs are buried).  When the building was bombed in 1945, the Dom suffered damage but the funerary chapel was destroyed and not rebuilt.  The family was resettled in the crypt under the church.

We did climb up to the dome to experience some amazing views of the city, but then it started to rain, so we beat a hasty retreat.  There is an interesting museum containing all the architectural proposals for the Dom.  Unfortunately Schinkel's italianate proposal was not built.  If you visit the Friedenskirche at Potsdam, you get a small idea of what it would have been like.

Across the street, at the edge of the site of the Schloß (destroyed by the DDR in the 50s) sits the Humboldt Box, a temporary installation (although it looked pretty permanent to me) that is there to interpret the proposal to rebuild the Schloß.  There is a weird little cafe on the top, along with a terrace that overlooks the site where the Schloß and the Palast der Republic once stood.  After a quick lunch, we visited the exhibition downstairs and were entranced.  All of a sudden we understood the importance or at least the intention of Unter dem Linden, which was a path leading from the Schloß to the Brandenburg Gate and thence to the Tiergarten for hunting!  Who knew?

After this we went across from the Altes to a contemporary gallery, which was unfortunately closed.  So we beat a hasty retreat (it's cold outside) to the Altes Museum to spend some time with their collection of Greek, Etruscan, and Roman antiquities - quite a collection.  There were interpretive films, a small collection that explained the sexual aspects of several krator, and collection of Flavian and Julian busts.  I really found it all quite engaging.

There is an organ concert at St. Hedwig's, the Roman Catholic Cathedral in Berlin.  It was built when the Prussians "acquired" Silesia and suddenly had a Roman Catholic population.  The building was severely damaged in the Second World War, and the interior was completely rebuilt.  I rather like it, but traditionalists hate it.  

The organ is a Kleis.  Tonally it is wonderful, bright and full of zest, but without much umpf.  The all Bach program was well-placed, and I only fell asleep once in a Largo movement.

We have dinner again at Brecht's in their temporary pavilion at Gendarmenmarkt, and have a wonderful conversation wtih our waitress, who had lived in Canada and has traveled in the US.  She was delightful, and the chef spent some special effort on a desert for us.  People have been good to us here.  We trudge back to Friedrichstraße and take the S Bahn home.  A good day!

A Nexus of Style

Day 9, Saturday, 3 December 2011 - Charlottenburg und Reich

The best laid plans...  Our intent was to go to the Museum Berggruen, but it is closed.  Luckily, right across the street (we're avoiding the Weinachtsmarkt at the Schloß) is the Sammlung Scharf-Gerstenberg.  The Berggreun would have given us Picasso, et. al., but this collection will move us into the symbolists, whom I spoke of in connection with Arnold Böcklin on Wednesday.

But we need a quick tangent.  The building in which this collection is exhibited used to house the Egyptian Collection now housed at the Neues.  It is here that I first saw it, so I startled a bit when as we entered the Collection I saw to my right the Entrance to the Temple at Kalabshas.  I turned to Arthur and said, "I think they forgot something!"  Indeed they had, there are also several sets of columns now standing in the Collection's theatre.  How odd, it seems to me, to not keep the collection together.  With that bubbling in our minds we turned to the actual items on exhibition.

As I entered the first salon I saw many of the prints from Max Klinger's Ein Handschuh (A glove) a fantasy on an ordinary glove that I first became acquainted with in Dreamers of Decadence.  There was more.  Wonderful prints and drawings by Goya, Piranesi, Dali, Klee, Ernst, and Dubuffet, and sculpture by Lipchitz and Ernst. Of special interest to me was one painting by Gustav Moreau, and several pieces by Odile Redon.

In the theatre they play a series of films, including La chien andalu, which we needed to see.  It's a very interesting collection. I wish more people would go and see it.

Here there is a troubling message as well.  A great deal of the collection, once wrested back from the Nazi's ended up in Russia and is now being displayed in a museum there.  Here, as in the notices at the Neues, the notices comment on the illegality of the Russian acquisitions - a difficult topic, here in Germany.

Afterward we go to a museum we have visited before, the Bröhan Museum, which documents the Jugendstil, and subsequent movements in the arts and crafts.  The relationships between the symbolists across the street and the collection at the Bröhan make the appreciation of both deeper and more interesting.  The second floor exhibition of paintings under the general description of "Berlin Life" is a bit jarring, since the lives depicted seem strained, mundane, and droll.  It's an odd contrast to the luxury of items on the other floors.

We have coffee on our way home, and then take a nap at the hotel.  We are scheduled for a dinner at 20:00 at the Reichstag.  We get there on time to go through passport control (yes) and all the other stuff once only known to airports.  Once through the gauntlet, we are ushered into dinner at Käfir, a truly wonderful experience.  We begin with some small delights - a parsnip soup, a geleé that includes smoked salmon, and a shot glass filled with a piece of venison with a sparkling foam on cranberry.  Next is a soup of chestnuts, with something floating in it - the nature of which we couldn't determine.  The main was wild hare with spätzle, potato, grünkohl, and a reduction of red wine.  Finally there was a dessert of celery creme brûlée, a passion fruit sorbet, and nougat.  

What is truly wonderful, is that by the time we leave, very few people are in the restaurant, and the dome is still open to us.  So we get to wander freely and slowly, soaking in the sights.  Food, images, and monumentality have done us in.  Time to go back to the hotel.