Milan, then home

On Tuesday we were somewhat relieved to leave the heat of Parma, but otherwise sad to leave the land of Verdi (pic of Verdi Monument in town), birthplace of conductor Arturo Toscanini (pic of his birthplace, but the museum like many things in Parma, was closed when we went), and locale of our friendly Parma landmark, the Piazza Garibaldi (pic at night), from which we could always find our bearings again amidst the maze of alleys in the heart of town. Before we left, however, we were glad to discover that some of the shops were open after vacation, on Monday. In one back-street shop selling a beautiful selection of kitchen items, we met the most kind, elderly shopkeeper who tried mightily to converse with us despite the language barrier, and I think wanted to adopt Gidget as a daughter.

The sacred and the profane: We took the regional train to Milan, home of high and weird fashion, industry, and the often dysfunctional La Scala opera which seems to be firing or scaring away conductors, on strike, etc. half the time as far as I can tell from what very little I know of opera. We stayed near Linate Airport to facilitate a morning flight back to Seattle. Since this part of town seemed to be in the middle of nowhere, we hopped on the metro (subway) for a very quick trip to the duomo in Milan and back.

The very impressive but faintly garish Gotham City-ish duomo (pic) was the attraction for a mass of tourists, many of whom were being screened at the entrance and being told at least to cover their shoulders (tank tops, shorts and sandals seemed to be the clothing of choice to visit this famous cathedral!) Immediately next to the cathedral is the beautiful Galleria (pic), itself a monument to consumerism (Prada, Gucci, and McDonald's all inside !?!?). Look up and the beautiful glass dome and soft golden light greet one's senses. Look down at the inlaid metal mosaic work, and cigarette butts fill the cracks. In the square, hucksters try to get money from visitors by offering corn seed which attracts pigeons for photo opps, then aggressively insisting on money. Thankfully, we did not have to fight off any pickpockets. I was glad we chose to spend most of our time in a small town with a life-sized personality, rather than this tourist trap. Perhaps with more time, Milan would reveal its charms but we were unfortunately on our way home.

Some reflections: Having been back in the states for 3 days now (and still a little punchy from jet lag), some things that stick in my memory are:

One of the most beautiful sounds in the world must be small children speaking Italian. So melodic and expressive!

There is a certain politeness -- or on the other hand, it might be a certain stiffness or formality -- to the conversational speech that is different from conversations in the U.S. I for one liked it. Almost always, even among co-workers, we heard a "Gruetzi" greeting in Switzerland, or a "Prego" acknowledgment in Italy. With a very few exceptions, we were thankful to have friendly, warm interactions with most everyone we encountered.

All food in Switzerland is strikingly expensive. We had some of the best tap water anywhere (it freely flows out of beautiful fountains throughout the town of Luzern), yet in restaurants, it is assumed that one must buy an overpriced bottle of water that doesn't taste as good as the tap water. There are so many other examples of relatively environmentally-friendly practices in the places we visited. The bottled water thing really confounds me.

Even in borderline foul weather, the Lauterbrunnen Valley is stunningly beautiful... the sounds will remain in my memory like a siren song.

I feel privileged to have seen and heard Maestro Abbado and the LFO. He is one of a kind, perhaps the conductor of a generation.

In an age of petulant, childish behavior among many so-called "leaders" (Exhibit 1 is the U.S. Congress), it is refreshing to see individuals like Claudio Abbado and Daniel Barenboim, who give so much of their time and energy to working with youth, crossing national and cultural borders, raising money for charity...

Hoping for a next time, and to all the nice people we encountered: Auf Wiedersehen and Arrivederci.

During Opera Off Season

Oh noes!  We missed Kool and the Gang, and an Abba tribute band!

Antica Corte Pallavacina

Antica Corte Pallavicina is a restored estate located near the Po River between Parma and Cremona, now owned by the Spigaroli family. Massimo Spigaroli, as I have read and we have been told, is an expert on traditional cooking of Emilia-Romagna. He has taught at the university and as we learned, has a most impressive group of young chefs working at the property. He was instrumental in re-creating the traditional method of producing culatello di zibello, a ham made from the rump region of what was recently an almost extinct breed of black pig indigenous to the area. The ham is made in the traditional way using cellars and sweet sea breezes for the curing process, unlike the refrigerated cellaring of fattened, light pigs largely used in the Parma ham (prosciutto) production. The family has restored the property with apparent love and dedication, and now runs a Relais as well as an impressive restaurant on site. They raise or grow almost everything used in the kitchen, themselves on the adjoining land. It looked like much of the large culatello production at the estate has been purchased in advance by various restaurants, chefs, etc.

We took a class on pasta making and of course, Gidget was on top of everything, I think impressing our instructor, Alessandro from Milan Alessandro was terrific in explaining things, as was Sarah from Montreal who sometimes helped with English translations of Italian terms though Alessandro spoke excellent English. There are a number of young chefs who are fortunate to land internship or apprentice-type employment here after their culinary training. I suspect it is intensely competitive to land such a position.

Alessandro walked us through the preparation of traditional tortelli (simply flour and eggs with a touch of salt, a pinch of oil optional). He also showed us how to make a traditional filling of ricotta, parmesan, and egg, a little salt, and nutmeg, with a seasonal green (in this case spinach) added for color. (Pics show a few of the steps and the final dish). He also showed us a few other pasta forms made from the same dough, and how to make the type of gnocchi which is traditional in this region, without any potatoes but rather strictly with finely ground bread crumbs and flour.

Also: a risotto preparation from the toasting of the rice to lock in the glutins to the process of cooking with broth. The final dish involved a pomodoro fresca sauce, finished off with cheese and presented in a round of upright green beans. Our lunch included the tortelli and the risotto we had just watched Alessandro make. Fabulous--especially the risotto. Gidget remembers all the details; I remember about 10% of them!

I fully intended to have only a green or mixed salad for dinner after that lunch, which had included wine and dessert. Then we made the happy mistake of going to La Greppia in Parma. Hands down, the best meal of our trip. Our earlier meals here in Parma were great, in more casual taverna or trattoria settings, while La Greppia was a bit more formal. We had some of the culatello di zibello that we had learned about today and found it to be far superior (to our tastes) to the standard Parma ham: leaner, sweeter, with more intense character. Then a shared first course of tortelli stuffed with deer and accompanied by a reduced cherry sauce (yum) and secondi of braised beef in a reduced red wine sauce (me) and chicken breast with a cherry and berry sauce (Gidget). Then they wheeled around a spectacular dessert cart with probably a dozen choices on it. We had a wonderful peach / ground almond / chocolate delight in which the chocolate flavor surprisingly always kicked in a couple seconds after the other two, then they all lingered.

The clientele was fascinating. At least three couples were speaking German; I believe the couple closest to us was in more "German" Deutsch compared to the "Swiss" German we heard In Luzern (and which I had even more trouble trying to understand than the German I learned in high school and have since forgotten). A young attractive couple speaking French across from us. A couple toward the front of the restaurant speaking English with a British accent but fluent in Italian as well. I was straining to hear some Italian! I rolled out of the restaurant feeling fat, provincial and happy. The diet starts tomorrow... maybe....

to Emilia-Romagna

Thursday night was the West-Eastern Divan Orchestra concert: Beethoven's 6th and 5th symphonies. The very idea of a young orchestra comprised largely of Israeli and Arab musicians playing side-by-side is inspiring and to hear and see them was still more so. There were young women virtually throughout the sections (including a female timpanist in the Beethoven 6), and the first chair clarinet in the Beethoven 6, also a woman, really stood out to me as a cut above. I have huge respect for Daniel Barenboim who has done much for music and humanitarian causes, somewhat like Abbado in his own way. That said, I generally like Barenboim better conducting opera than as a symphony orchestra conductor or a solo pianist (his roots), and his reading of both symphonies had a slight feel toward molasses for me. For instance, I am guessing that he stresses long bowing in the strings to produce a particular rounded string sound, even when IMHO much of Beethoven should be a bit more angular and not so pretty. He took the third movements (both symphonies) quite slowly for my tastes. Nonetheless many fine details emerged, and the audience was very enthusiastic in its reception... not unexpected with the familiar program and the unique performers on this night.

Friday we took a direct train from Luzern to Milano and successfully transferred to the Trenitalia train to Parma. Much of the town is closed for the middle weeks of August for holidays ("Ferie") when many escape the heat if able to do so. It has been around 95F and moderately humid during the day. It seems the largest remaining population is college-aged young people who presumably can't afford to stay at the coasts, in lake country, etc. in August. At night there is eye candy for both genders, at the bars and spilling out onto the streets and alleys near them!

Having planned this trip largely around seeing Claudio Abbado and the Lucerne Festival Orchestra, there was a nice bit of thematic continuity when we saw posters for Abbado's special performance at the Teatro Farnese in Parma a couple months ago, all over town (at the famous Teatro Regio steps away from our hotel, in a bar, etc.) He has raised money for many charitable causes and seems to be revered here. He of course taught at the local university early in his music career, and formed at least a couple orchestras with a major presence in Emilia-Romagna (the Mahler Chamber Orchestra which is the core of the Lucerne Festival Orchestra, and the Orchestra Mozart, among those of which I am aware). Bravo Claudio.

Saturday we took a guided tour of a local dairy/cheese factory and saw how parmigiano reggiano is made; a Parma ham (prosciutto) factory of which we are told there are some 187 of various sizes in the small permitted region, and a winery which offered a number of wines, featuring local lambrusco (red) and malvasia (white), both of which are fizzy to a greater or lesser degree. Our guide Sara was incredible; articulate, well-educated, funny... She studied languages at the local university and seemed able to answer any question we had. Awesome. Our driver Davide (sp?) spoke only a little English but we managed to communicate with him a bit and via Sara's translation. He grew up in the heart of Parma ham country and took us on an "alternative route" that showed us some of the more forested and hilly country of the Parma plain. A great day.

Later in the afternoon we peeked inside the impressive duomo a couple blocks from the hotel.

We have eaten well these last two days. (Trattoria Corrieri and Gallo d'Oro, both great). The difference between the price of a great meal in Parma versus the exorbitant cost of food in Switzerland (not only at restaurants but even at the stores in Switzerland) is almost staggering. But... so much prosciutto and cold-cut meats, hunks of parmigiano reggiano, rich pasta dishes with more butter (to northern Italy what olive oil is to points south) than I've had in probably years, fizzy wine and espresso... Must slow down...

Beethoven and Manzoni

Wednesday night's concert was part of a series conceived by renowned pianist Maurizio Pollini, entitled "Pollini Perspectives."  The program paired the world premiere of a work entitled Il rumore del tempo commissioned by the Lucerne Festival from Italian composer Giacomo Manzoni, with 3 sequentially composed Beethoven piano sonatas bookended by two well-known warhorses: the Waldstein Sonata and the Appassionatta.

Both were a huge success with the audience. Manzoni's work sets texts by Austrian and Russian writers to music sung by soprano (Anna Prohaska) and accompanied by spare instrumental writing -- almost commenting or highlighting points in the songs -- for clarinet, viola and percussion, with solo piano parts "bridging" the several songs. The music was simple and primeval. As I do not read Russian and barely read German, I will take the program notes' comment that the texts and resulting songs share a common theme of humanity's "impermanence in the face of eternal nature" at face value and obviously better informed than I can be. That description certainly semeed to fit the music that I heard. The audience received the work enthusiastically, calling the musicians back fot bows several times. As a result, Mr. Pollini called Mr. Manzoni, the composer, from the audience to the stage, where he received great applause. (If only all contemporary composers of merit could have such stellar performers and such a receptive audience!) We were surprised to see that he had been sitting just a few rows in front of us. Nearly 79 years old, with a kind face, Mr. Manzoni was clearly moved by the warm reception. Bravo, indeed.

Pollini is Pollini, and Beethoven is Beethoven, at least in his hands. He avoids inconsistent, random, or artificial changes of dynamics, tempo, rhythm, self-indulgence, etc. Suffice it to say that I would rather hear Pollini than, say, Lang Lang any day. He received the expected enthusiastic applause, many standing and more than a few bravos. I didn't feel like he shined a new light on anything, but that can be good or bad. A note that at least from my vantage point (main floor, front left where the sightline for the pianist's hands is ideal but the acoustics are not quite as good sometimes, as on the right side), the large hall served surprisingly well. However, it was pretty full and detail was often lost in homogeneous sound from our seats

[Tonight the schedule calls for two Beethoven symphonies with Daniel Barenboim conducting the West-Eastern Divan Orchestra, the brainchild of Barenboim and Edward Said, bringing together yung musicians from Israel, Palestine and other Arab nations in an effort to foster "listening" as the building block for peace and understanding. It will be like attending a football game, as this concert sold out almost immediately when the tickets went on sale, and we ended up way back and way, way up in the fourth balcony. It should nonetheless be a great concert and undoubtedly, a moving and inspiring one].

Chamber music at the KKL

Most of the symphony and large ensemble concerts at the Lucerne Festival take place at the KKL (culture and convention center). The KKL was designed by French architect Jean Nouvel and built in the late 1990's. It features water (the adjoining lake, fountains, and actual waterways intruding finger-like into the structure at ground level, suggesting a ship upon the lake), extensive glass which changes with the daylight (and highlights interior neon lighting at night), and an angular, oversized roof.

The concert hall is relatively long and narrow with 4 balcony levels, seating a little under 2000. The acoustics have been described as excellent and that was our experience for the Abbado concerts. For our chamber music concert, the size of the hall was not ideal (too large), but the great acoustics allowed detail and clarity of individual parts to shine through nonetheless.

Tuesday's concert featured some "bon bons" in the form of simple German dances by Schubert, written for string quartet; a curiosity (at least to me) in the form of Shotakovich's 15th Symphony (1971) transcribed for piano, celesta, solo violin, solo cello and various pecussion instruments (3 musicians handled the substantial percussion roles); and a relatively well-known item in the form of Schoenberg's Verklaerte Nacht in original scoring for string sextet.

The playing was phenomenal. Entries were crisp and the balance among the small ensembles of instruments was perfect. The Shostakovich was interesting for the engaging string solo parts, varying rhythms and colorations, and whimsical or perhaps more likely, ironic quotations from or allusions to other pieces of music. To me the piece seems more sardonic than whimsical, but I don't know it and haven't studied it. No doubt there was much happening in this piece which sailed over my head. I did catch quotations from Wagner's Ring and Tristan, which veered off in strange directions. And a bit of the theme song from the Lone Ranger, or to music snobs, Rossini's William Tell Overture-- though given the date when Shotakovich wrote this symphony and its tone, I would go with the Lone Ranger.

Verklarte Nacht is beautiful late Romantic music that I would imagine to be fun for accomplished string instrumentalists to play. I never learned enough to follow or appreciate Schoenberg's later development of atonal and 12-tone, serial music, but I have always liked Verklarte Nacht, which showed that he could write in the late Romantic idiom if he chose to do so. I can hardly imagine a better performance. It was a privilege to hear these very best of class musicians, AND-- with no ringtone interruptions as in the Friday near-debacle. The audience, much smaller than for the Abbado-Lupu concerts, was reverent and appreciative, letting the last reverberations die and allowing for a moment of silence before erupting in applause that went on (and on) until violinist Kolja Blacher gave what seemed to me to be a joking "it's bed time" signal and the audience gave up on any encore. Perfection.

Sightseeing Luzern

Tuesday was a good day to take a break from train travel so we did some touristy things in Luzern proper. Obligatory visit to the Loewendenkmal (Lion Monument - pic), a stone carving of an injured lion in honor of the Swiss Guard who fell while defending the monarchy in Paris during the French Revolution. Nearby is the Glacier Garden and museum, with a number of interesting exhibits focusing on natural history and cartography of the region. The glaciers are melting/receding in Switzerland too (just as in the Washington Cascades), as documented by historical photographs. We had a good dinner at the restaurant of the Hotel des Balances, on a moonlit river with swans and fish skimming by.

Wednesday broke clear and sunny so we went up Mt. Pilatus (7000 ft. elevation) via aerial cable and gondola. Got to hear "more cowbell" and enjoyed a spectacular panorama of Alps in the distance and Lake Lucerne, other lakes and towns far below. The return trip was via the steepest cogwheel train in the world and we had front row seats. Then a return trip from Alpnachstad to Luzern via boat. Many of tbe settings and some of the houses make Lake Washington back home look pretty ordinary...

Wengen: Nebel steigen auf

On Sunday, with a break between concerts, we took the panoramic train to Interlaken Ost, transferring to Lauterbrunnen in the stunning valley of the same name, and on to Wengen, home of alpine skiing in the winter and amazing hiking opportunities in the summer. The quiet village was a welcome respite from the tour groups, traffic, and cigarette smoke to which we aren't accustomed, in Lucerne. Here were daypacks, walking poles, and clear air.

We stayed overnight at the Hotel Caprice, a wonderful small hotel managed by two of the very nicest people ever, Franz and Brigitte. We cannot recommend the hotel enough. Franz leads nordic walking tours in the summer season and unfortunately, for this trip, we were not equipped, we were both fighting colds I suspect were caught or compounded during the flights over, and the weather was not ideal in any event. We had by chance chosen the one night in which, instead of blooming meadows and creeks glinting with sunshine, we had heavy rain clouds moving in and some periodically heavy rain through the night and the next morning.

Props to the chef at the Caprice, whom we did not meet, but whose presence was delightful in our terrific dinner at the hotel dining room. A clear soup with julienned vegetables and sherry, and a perfectly executed lamb chop entree with tasty croquettes formed in the shape of pears (with pasta for a stem), stood out. To be able to walk it off the next day! I will need to save my pennies, hope the franc stops skyrocketing against the dollar, and find a way to return one day with more time for walking and fewer concert schedule constraints.


A brilliantly sunny trip to the Bernese Oberland area would have been great, but the shifting, rising and falling clouds and moody light upon the mountains had their own beauty. The sound of nothing but waterfalls echoing in the valley, and cowbells tinkling in the evening and again in the morning, shall remain burned into my brain for future comfort.

"There was a little girl,
Who had a little curl,
Right in the middle of her forehead.
When she was good,
She was very good indeed,
But when she was bad she was horrid."

On Saturday this poem came immediately to "Gidget" (aka my lovely spouse) as we toured the Rosengart Museum and viewed the wonderful originals by Klee and Picasso. Gidget is better read than this blogger. Then again, maybe she had her moments as a young girl with a little curl in the middle of her forehead. Just sayin'.

After a trip of about 21 hours home to hotel -- planes, train and automobile -- we arrived at lovely Lucerne (Luzern), Switzerland. Check-in at the Hotel del Alpes in old town was friendly and easy. The view from a river-facing room takes in the famous wooden Chapel Bridge, the river Reuss and Mount Pilatus.

Our trip was planned around attendance of concerts at the Lucerne Festival in Summer.
On Friday, our first full day in Luzern, we sailed beautiful Lake Lucerne to the lakeside town of Vitznau. From there, the trip to Rigi Kulm, the top of Mt. Rigi, is by cogwheel train, steeply at times. Though the sky was not crystal clear, the weather cooperated well enough, and the view of the surrounding hills and lakes below, and glimpses of the Alps, were wonderful.

For the return trip, we took a cable car down from Rigi Kaltbad, most of the way up the relatively flat-topped Rigi, down to the lakeside town of Weggis. A fun ride made all the more so by whoops of enjoyment from a few kids on board.

I was full of anticipation for our first concert, a performance by Claudio Abbado conducting the Lucerne Festival Orchestra, featuring piano soloist Radu Lupu. Maestro Abbado, in his years since forming the new, regular version of the Lucerne Festival Orchestra, has nearly completed what many consider an ongoing, sine qua non series of Mahler's symphonies with this orchestra. I have blu-ray discs or DVD's of the symphonies recorded so far, and they are uniformly spectacular. This is an orchestra that plays with chamber-music clarity, with great heart and soul, peopled by some of the greatest musicians in Europe. Maestro Abbado is clearly beloved by the orchestra members, many of whom have worked with him since their beginnings in one of the youth orchestras he champions.

Best nightlife so far: Saturday an apparent wedding party on the riverfront below our hotel deck, with the groom in bunny ears and a contingent of friends on the riverside walkway accompanied by a mobile bar mounted on a skateboard. A group of young women in what looked like beauty pageant uniforms with red sashes, sauntered by and joined a loud group of guys in identical blue t-shirts in front of the pub. Some of the guys stuffed a baby carriage with beer for a second mobile bar once the skateboard version ran dry. Throw in a school mascot or something (it was very orange and looked somewhat like a bear). We didn't play wedding crashers but should have, considering that the noise kept us up most of the night...

Worst nightlife: Dinner Thursday, night of our arrival at a riverside hotel restaurant which shall remain unnamed. Our server must have been auditioning for a part in a TV series about cougars or something, hitting on every woman captively seated in the area. His best line for "Gidget" (my wife, inside joke for some of her friends) was, "Are you magic?" Spoken in impeccable English, so no, not a problem of translation. To which we missed our chance to say, 'No, because as hard as you're trying to be Prince Charming, you're still a toad."

Best concert so far: Saturday with Abbado doing the D Minor Brahms Piano Concerto (with Lupu, considered by many to be particularly good in Brahms), the Prelude to Act I of Wagner's Lohengrin, and the Adagio from Mahler's unfinished 10th symphony. Amazing detail, terrific work in all the sections (kudos to the timpanist and principal horn who have major parts in the Brahms), a poetic reading by Lupu, bringing a level of maturity to the sturm und drang of the early Brahms work. The conclusion was a superb performance of the Adagio (which among the Mahler I have heard, I find to be a bit disjointed and -- sacrilege to any Mahler lovers who might stumble upon this -- frankly long even for Mahler, which is saying something. Abbado, however, made it work for me... except there are still a few extra notes for my taste.

Worst concert so far: Strangely, the very same program the previous night (Friday). Lupu was poetic at times, but rushed at least half a bar ahead of the orchestra at least twice toward the end of the First Movement, and made a few mistakes. That of course happens in live concerts, but this was not fated to be the great first concert in Lucerne I had envisioned. Lupu was a relatively late replacement for pianist Helene Grimaud under mysterious circumstances (announced to be artistic differences), so perhaps more rehearsal time with the orchestra might have made a difference and the Saturday night performance profited from the Friday night effort?

Additionally, during Lupu's encore, a huge no-no: Someone's phone ringtone went off not once, but twice, the second time, staying on for quite some time during an otherwise quiet, rhapsodic stretch in Lupu's piece. Or: We charitably think it was a ringtone. It sounded disturbingly like someone trying to follow along with the piano music on a kazoo or a comb with wax paper. Maybe a patron was disappointed that Mr. Lupu, with his wild shock of grey hair and stoic upright chair in lieu of a typical piano bench, doesn't much resemble the glamorous Ms. Grimaud? (jk)

In any event, I bet this was a rare, maybe even unprecedented Lucerne pitfall, given the sophistication of the Lucerne audience. To use an overused term: surreal. But the terrific, and thankfully disturbance-free perfomance on Saturday, more than made up.