Ojai and Ravinia, Part Deux

Saturday, June 10

Chamber Chorus’ a capella concert was what awaited us this morning. We listened like crazy and sang our little hearts out. The program was:

MESSIAEN: O sacrum conviviumTALLIS: O sacrum convivium VAUGHAN WILLIAMS: Mass in G Minor TAVENER: Song for Athene DURUFLE: Four MotetsCOPLAND: Four Motets

Paying homage to Robert Shaw, we sang an encore of “Saints bound for Heaven” which ended in a boisterous and ringing G-Major chord. The crowd went completely bonkers for us after this little ditty. What an exciting morning. It was 12:30pm, and we had already had an artistic triumph. Then we had a gastronomic celebration at Tutti’s. Michelle, Sarah, Elise, and I went to downtown Ventura and had the most amazing burger, pizza, and soup of our lives sitting outside in a courtyard with a wood burning fireplace, which was not being used at the time. I had a couple of glasses of pinot noir which meant that I was a very happy camper for the afternoon. After lunch we took another walk down Main Street and stopped at a Crap Emporium. We’re not too sure of the shop’s real name, but it was filled with crap for and from all ages. We found these plastic pirate hats for $.99, and it was too good to pass up. You see, in our last concert of the festival we are to perform Oceana, a cantata by Golijov. Well, in the first page of the choral score it directs the men to sing “like pirates calling our to their ocean goddesses.” Nothing would do but for us to fulfill his wishes. Our plan was to pull these hats out and put them on during the afternoon rehearsal. Stay tuned to see how it went.

The afternoon flew by, and in a flash it was time to get ready to go back to Ojai for Luciana Souza’s concert. By nightfall the temperature had dropped like a rock, and needless to say I and the rest of the girls who went to the concert were ill-prepared. Even though I sat shivering through the night it was still one of the best concerts ever. I was clearly being transported to Brazil. The second half was filled with De Falla’s El amor brujo (Bewitching Love) and some De Falla settings of Spanish Folk Songs—not bad, but not great either. Hey, you win some you lose some. When I got back to the hotel the kids were still in the hot tub, and I still had that bottle of Petite Sirah that I bought from Natalie’s Eclectibles. Well, we made it work. Once again we convinced the guards to let us stay way past the 11pm deadline and had a great time.

Sunday, June 11

For those of us who had to go see Dawn’s concert, we were troopers. She sang the Berio Folk Songs and Golijov’s Ayre. If you do not know it, get it. There are primal emotions expressed and incredible vocalism. Also, her back-up band, Eighth Blackbird, had a really hot violinist who looked a lot like a young Nigel Kennedy—uncanny. The fact that she could sing this stuff at 11am was a thing to be admired, and you know that is quite something, coming from me. Right after her concert ended we prepared for our Oceana rehearsal. At the appropriate time we donned our pirate hats and wore them proudly. Okay, there were only six of us, but I think we were noticed.

Other than a few technical issues, things were clicking right along, and we could not wait to perform. After rehearsal we had a couple of hours to walk around Ojai, get a cup of tea, and off we went a sangin’. The electricity in the air was palpable, and we all performed the hell out of the concert. The crowd even enjoyed the orchestra’s first half, which included John Adams’ Chamber Symphony, which is difficult to play so says the composer. We ended the concert and the festival with “Dona nobis pacem” from Bach’s B-minor Mass—a rather romantic and Stokowskian interpretation, grand and romantic. I know I almost reached 75 percent of my top volume while singing this piece, and I was not alone. So, you know it was pretty darn loud. Amazingly, there was a reception following the concert with food, so most of us got there pretty quickly. After we pirates got our picture taken with Robert, there was much exchange of plans as to how various groups would continue the party. We settled for a quick jaunt to the liquor store and then to the pool. I think they should engrave our names on the hot tub. Though it was a bit sad to leave our temporary home, I was ready to see my honey pie.

Monday, June 12

It was a long travel day. Ahh, home sweet home. I’d better rest up for Ravinia.

Wednesday, June 14

After a long and luxurious rest, the orchestra and us Ainadamar girls headed up to Chicago and the Ravinia Festival. Traffic was from hell, but we finally did get to the hotel, leaving us no time to go anywhere or do anything. Oh well, the rough life of an artist. After getting a bit to eat with a pint of Guinness, a nap was most needed. Michelle took a shower to warm up and promptly snagged her nose ring, which cost her a bit of relaxation time. I had a hard time getting up from my nap, and we were nearly in danger of being left at the hotel. When we got downstairs to the buses they were just getting ready to pull out. Whew, we made it.

Traffic was even more from hell, and we got to Ravinia with just enough time to do a twenty minute sound-check. Robert wasn’t worried and neither were we. By now we had made this piece our own. No one could touch us. We were ready to rock. One of the most beautiful moments of our 2003 El Niño performance at Ravinia was looking at the beautiful lights that illuminated the pavilion as the sun fully set. It was just as glorious the second time. I made sure to take a few extra breaths to soak in the atmosphere—music-making at the highest level with hugely talented and down-to-earth people. It was a privilege. The night was magical. As Robert held the last chord fading to nothing, the audience was speechless, waiting to exhale. He held his arms in the air a little longer than usual, and the crowd responded in kind. They got it. They realized what this liberty and freedom meant, and the silence was spine-tingling. After what seemed like forever, thunderous applause began. There were tears, much joy, and laughter. We did good. Ozzie seemed really happy too.

It is virtually impossible to calm down after such an exhilarating experience, so nothing would do but to gather in the hotel bar and drink a lot. All I’ll say is that a few G&T’s passed through these lips and I did not hurl (see picture of me, Michael, and Michelle). However, I’m pretty certain that I was still a bit tipsy the next morning as we headed back home. Still, no hurling. Yeah! The tour was a success, declared by all.

Ojai and Ravinia

Last Thursday I left for Ojai, California as a member of the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra Chamber Chorus for a week-long tour singing the music of Osvaldo Golijov. He is the hottest composer around today, and the ASO’s own Robert Spano just happens to be a champion of Ozzie’s music. That’s a beautiful thing because when Robert was invited to become the Music Director for this innovative festival in gorgeous Ojai, he decided to feature the orchestra and chamber chorus in the music of Osvaldo Golijov. The Ojai Festival has been around for 60 years, and among the Festival's diverse music directors there have been such renowned musical luminaries as composers John Adams, Ingolf Dahl, Peter Maxwell Davies, Lukas Foss, John Harbison and Oliver Knussen; conductors Kent Nagano, Michael Tilson Thomas, and Esa-Pekka Salonen; and instrumentalists Emanuel Ax and Mitsuko Uchida. It is able to achieve this feat because each Music Director holds tenure for one year, which really means four days of pure adrenaline. Its eclecticism has resulted in innovation and adventure. We had some tremendous reviews, and you can see them on the ASO Chorus website.

As an Ainadamar Girl (This is Golijov’s first opera, premiered in Tanglewood in 2003 and revised for Santa Fe in 2005. There are 18 of us Atlanta girls [ladies] who sang in the Greek Chorus-like ensemble for the Deutsche Grammophon recording.), I had to sing a concert each day—Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. This was at once exhilarating and exhausting. Well, here goes the day to day…

Thursday, June 8

Ben dropped me off at Callaway Plaza at the Woodruff Arts Center whereby us Chamber Choristers were treated like first class citizens, or at least like orchestra musicians. What this means is that we checked our baggage with the in charge people, and it would then magically appear in our hotels rooms at the Marriott Ventura Beach, which by the way, is just 200 meters from the Pacific Ocean. Lunch was also being provided. Albeit, this fine meal consisted of a soggy sandwich of your choosing (turkey, ham, or roast beef), a bag of chips, a cookie, and a soft drink—not a gourmet feast, but to those of us who have not been fed by the symphony organization for some time now, it was a delightful surprise. An eventless coach ride to the airport was followed by a not too pleasant flight to Los Angeles on AirTran. The flight was seriously overbooked, and the co-pilot had to plead several time for people to volunteer to bump themselves off the flight. Hello, we are on tour. We’re not gonna get off this damn plane! Finally, this co-pilot got a bit testy. Okay, he was bitchy, to say it kindly. I believe the direct quote was, “thanks for all of your help and cooperation, or the lack thereof.” How sweet was that? Well, I could not have been more psyched to take off. What made the situation even more pleasant was the 40 minute taxiing that had to be done because there was a line of 20 airplanes waiting to take off before us. The pièce de résistance was the announcement about half-way through the flight that they were out of ice, so there will be no more beverage service for us. Ahh, the pleasures of discount air travel…

Then we finally landed at LAX. Apparently there were three stowaways who got on one of our coaches and nearly proceeded to go to Ventura with us. Which was a 90 minute ride on the beautiful Hwy 101, not. However, their presence was detected while the coach was still on airport grounds, so our dear stowaways departed. As it turned out, two of the three coaches took the Pacific Coast Scenic Highway out to Ventura, and guess in which one I rode? Yep, the one who didn’t. So while my compatriots were enjoying the sights of the Pacific coast, I, along with about 40 others, were enjoying rush hour traffic. To top off this auspicious start, our driver, Juvi (JEW-vi, short for Juvenando [HOO-vay-nan-do]), took a wrong turn near the hotel, went an extra few miles, and nearly dropped us off at a very lovely and decrepit industrial looking place. Watching him drive backwards on Ventura Boulevard was such a treat. Well, once we finally landed at the hotel, Michelle, Owen, and I set off for historic downtown Ventura, which was a charming place full of thrift shops, antique stores, and eateries. After what seemed like a marathon walk, we stopped at Zoey’s to grab a bite. A little café nestled in a small courtyard, we sat there in the sun enjoying the little bit of warmth that was in the air. As we left the restaurant for more sight-seeing, I really wanted to do a wine tasting, so we headed to Natalie’s Eclectibles, a place which was closing on June 10th because the building had been bought and the owners did not want to start again somewhere else. In the back corner there was a wine cellar, and the wine tasting was only $10 for 6 wines. The offer was too good to pass up, so the three of us sat down and had some of the best wine in our lives. We sampled libations from Penman Springs Winery in Paso Robles, and each one was better than the next, culminating in the Petite Sirah, which we had to buy. As is my penchant for scoping out eateries, we found the most delightful Tutti’s Off Main, an Italian restaurant on Main and Palm, from which we purchased some sweets to take back with us. I coveted the Tiramisú, which Michelle purchased. No worries, I would get mine soon.

After we sufficiently feasted, it was time to return to the hotel and take a walk to the beach and open that bottle of Petite Sirah. The sun was setting, and it created the most beautiful backdrop for our bacchanalia. We met up with dearest Laura Livingston, who was the au pair for the Joneses on tour, and the four of us climbed atop the empty lifeguard shack and had ourselves a taste of the delectable nectar of the Goddesses. Yum! After that we finally went our separate ways and headed to bed. Tomorrow would be a big day!

Friday, June 9

I spotted a Starbuck’s on the way in, and headed straight for it after my morning workout. My roommie was the incomparable Marcia Chandler, and she rocks. Well, Marcia got to stay in bed a little longer since I had rehearsal and she did not—damn it. I actually got onto the coach on time, and we finally arrived at the Libbey Bowl, after that driver took us to the wrong entrance. I’m beginning to think that it was me causing all that havoc. Anyway, rehearsal went smoothly. It was mostly a sound check, and we sounded real good. After rehearsal some of us hellions headed to a Mexican restaurant. For those of you that know us, it was Anne Marie Spalinger, Michelle Belle Isle, Kate Murray, Brenda Pruitt, Arietha Lockhart, and I. Okay, so one of us is not like the other. Guess which one. Psst, it’s the quiet one. As we perused the menu, woodwind players walked up, and we invited them over, resulting in a most festive lunch. We bonded over margaritas and Negro Modelos. Naturally I was already a bit intoxicated after one margarita, so a good time was had by all. It created the perfect afternoon for a nap.

After I finally awoke from my nap, it was time to rush and get ready for Ainadamar. The jam-packed audience loved it, and the way the instruments were miked and the shape of the Libbey Bowl allowed us to hear textures that were buried in Atlanta. It was like hearing a new piece, and the night was magical. Well, after a performance like that we simply could not go straight to bed. There was some hot tub relaxation with libations before we headed to snoozeland. By the way, you may already have detected a pattern—get up early, rehearse hard, perform hard, and party hard. Ahhh, life on tour. Please stay tuned for Part Deux.

The Care and Feeding of Various Flora and Fauna

The Yang-Temko garden project (2006 version) has officially gone high-tech. This morning I purchased a new sprinkler head and electronic timer for the purpose of being more consistent with the watering of my garden than I have been in the past month as the various commitments I have have taken my schedule, shat upon it, and then buried it for use as compost (alas, not in my garden, else 'twould serve a prupose). With luck (and after a thorough drenching on my part during configuration) my garden will now get 10 minutes of a gentle soaking every morning. I hope this shall produce high yields of yummy fruits and vegetables!

Even without high tech help, however, the first fruits are off the vine! We have 3 perfect tomatoes, 2 of the roma variety and one of the sandwich variety awaiting our sandwich or salad (or hell, just plain salt) pleasure. If you are a local reader of the chronicles sign up now to get your share of the remainder of this year's crop! I have also replaced the pretty little daisies at the end of the driveway with a hydrangea, which I hope will grow into a large, beautiful bush over the next few years. I've decided I just love hydrangeas, so I want to try my hand at them. I'll post pictures tomorrow if anyone is interested.

Also, if any of you have been wondering where the companion blogger has been, I can tell you - she's been here! That's right, the companion bloggers were housemates for a few days while Meeeeeeeegan was in town for a conference. We were all too delighted to have her, and of the many fascinating discussions we had over various forms of imbibery (the Lagavulin was particularly nice, but coffee in the morning on the deck is hard to beat, even with the Stupidest Fucking Dog in the World barking at us (which I must admit he did for much less time than I expected!)), one of them was about this interminable project I have been "working on" (if you use that term very loosely) for the better part of about 8 years now, which I have officially shelved for the time being in order to work on something new. I am not sure what the something new is going to be yet, but I think the format will be a serial short story, which I post to once a week at a given time without fail, which I hope will be a good test of the new writing method with which I'm going to be experimenting. I'm not above taking suggestions or bribes as to subject content, tho I have a few ideas in mind. Watch this space for more developments shortly.

And finally, for those of you wondering about things childish, we are still, after 6 weeks, waiting for Wanda to start her period after her cyst aspirations. We are not, according to a home pregnancy test, pregnant. Not even a little bit. What we are is mystified, and pretty fucking sick of the waiting game. We're calling the doctors tomorrow to ask them what in the wide wide world of sports is a-goin' on - no idea what's next. We'll keep you posted.