Stuck in Verona

So I’m stuck in Verona. And yes, stuck is the appropriate word choice.

And I can’t decide what to do next.

I also can’t decide if I’m crazy.
So, what else I'm going to do but write while I sit in the hallway of the train station.

I had this discussion with my teacher the other day about figuring out the balance between recognizing when you have to put yourself out there and just letting things happen. Another way to phrase it is, am I forcing this trying to “make this happen” or is this just the necessary steps I need to take in order to take advantage of this opportunity?

I feel like it’s a once again my philosophical mind trying to figure out how do I believe the world really works, and I suppose to be more direct, how does it work for me?

I certainly can’t answer for anyone else, but I think for me I enjoy things when they just happen. Doors open in front of me, and an opportunity presents itself. I can of course choose to take it or leave it. But, seldom do I feel like I “make the path“ to that opportunity other than by the choices I made previously by taking the opportunities that presented themselves in times before. In essence one opportunity leads to another.

I guess that’s where that brings me here.

I was in France because I wanted to go to Europe.

I am in Europe because I wanted to experience a different culture.

I wanted to experience a different culture because I want to experience that there is more than one way to do things. 

I didn’t pick France and make it happen. France happened out of a series of choices that I had in front of me at the time. Prepare for recital, apply for study abroad, play recital, have both means and musical preparation to go to this festival.

And, so that brings me to today. Currently Joel is in Vienna eagerly awaiting my arrival. Italian time strikes again and resulted in me missing my last possible connection from Innsbruch to Wein. I’m currently in Verona Italy contemplating my options.

Certainly my tendency is to wait and see what naturally happens by a process of elimination (it falsely frees me from the possibility and responsibility of choosing incorrectly). If I wait long enough, the choice is made for me. But I know that’s not usually the right answer, I know I just choose it when I amscared.

Instead, I’ve decided to go out on limb and ask if there would be a way to get a lesson in Florence tomorrow. Crazy, I know. I’m in Italy for the last time this summer, and so far my contact in Italy is also the ONLY person who has responded positively to my inquiries about a lesson this summer. It just didn’t initially work out because of my schedule going to France.

So, I’m asking myself, is this a door? If not, at least I’ll have knocked and found my answer. If it is, I’ll just have delayed my arrival in Vienna by a day.  But either way, at least I won’t be sitting around waiting for the choice to be made for me.

Day Trip to Nice

On Friday, our 7^th day at the festival, we had our much needed day off. The festival scheduled a bus for all of us to go to Nice for the day.

First on my radar was to head straight to the beach.

I still have the best memories of the Adriatic Sea while I was in Pula 2 years ago. It’s been so miserably hot, I only hope the Mediterranean Sea provides as much relief as it does pleasure.

Of course as soon as I step off the bus, I realize I don’t have a map of the city (my one and only real need in a strange city). So a large group of us manage to follow two of the faculty to the beach. I take pictures of every corner we turn at so I can use it as reference on the way back if I get lost. I picked that up while I was in Austria and was so discombobulated that wound up being the best way I could keep track of things. 

The Mediterranean was spectacular. The beach was rocks and not sandy. The most difficulty part of the beach experience was actually just getting in and out of the water. With the stony banks and bare feet, it made it very difficult and a little painful to climb into or out of the water.

The water was so clear and so refreshing. My festival roommate Lauren and my new found friend Abbie and I decided we wanted to swim out to the bouy. This seemed like an admirable and adventurous feat.

We’re swimming against the tide on the way out so it takes us a while. But, every couple hundred feet the color of the water changed. It was really spectacular to experience. We finally made it to the buoy and after “riding on it” to rest a bit, we headed back. Just a few minutes later, Abbie tells Lauren and I she has a leg cramp.

You don’t have to experience more than one while swimming to realize how bad that can really be and that it usually gets worse. I flash to a memory while on swim team when a leg cramp surprised me and completely took me under water. I had to get myself out of the water and lay on my back while my coach took my leg and leaned her whole weight into it. Only then did my muscle release. So, I didn’t even hesitate and swam over to Abbie. I grabbed her hands, told her to put her leg against the front of my thigh and push against me as hard as she could. I took a deep breath, went under as I stopped swimming, and pulled her as hard as I could towards me. I came back up for air and she’s in shock, her leg cramp was gone! Thankfully, we were able to swim back to the shore without any further problems.

The rest of the day was like continuation of this surreal experience. We go over to the Museum of Modern Art and look around for a number of hours. We got in for free out of the generosity (and admitted laziness) of the entrance attendant. She looked at all 15 of us and said “I don’t feel like working today. You’re all students? Go ahead. No flash pictures.”

 

Afterwards, Abbie, Lauren, and I found ourselves together again as we start looking for lunch and other adventures. Abbie and I decide that if we can find a salon we’re both getting French haircuts. Because that sounds exotic and fun and my hair desperately needs a minimum of a trim. No shop we came across had any availability.

But, as we’re exploring for a salon, we randomly come across Napolean’s house of residence while he lived in Nice. That was a pleasant surprise.

We decided to give up on the haircuts and explored all the local sea side shops. My favorite was the toy store—all hand made and finely crafter wood and cloth toys. Like simple but cute puppets, a wooden scale with weights, and fishing pole with a hook to grab your rubber ducky our of the water. My favorite were the mobiles. Pulled down on a string and it looked like they were flying through the air, very slowly and peacefully. 

With these old towns and cities, inevitably they have a center that contains the old castle walls, or fortress during medieval times. In Nice it overlooks the sea, so we climb up the many steps to the top and get a breathtaking view of the city. On the way down we decide to walk down on the opposite side we ascended. And I’m so glad we did because we found an awesome little graffiti treasure on the walls of the stairwell.

Street Art Sightings

If you like modern art and have never seen “Exit Through the Gift Shop” stop what you’re doing and watch it. It’s fantastic. Before watching the film I didn’t know anything about graffiti art. And while I would by no means be able to say that know anything beyond what the movie showed me, I certainly have gained a new respect for some of the genre’s artists. 

So, as I’m walking across the street from Vatican City, Joel stops me and goes “Hey, remember that movie you had me watch, Exit Through the Gift Shop? Look up there.” He points above the street light and I squeal with excitement. There it was, my first “sighting”. And, I even recognized the artist Invader’s mosaic style.

Well yesterday, I was in Nice for the day, and was talking with my friend Abbie about street art. She tells me another documentary to look into after we realize we both know some of the same artists, particularly french artist Blek le Rat. I share that I had my first sighting in Rome of another artist’s work, Invader, and how exciting it was. Not even a few hours later, we’re walking down from the top of the Castle Ruins and I spot this: 

I’m not positive on whose it is, but I certainly like it.

2 sightings down, hopefully more to go.

Festival Concert in Cagnes-sur-Mer, Place Grimaldi, Haut-deCagnes

It’s the first run out concert of the festival. I’m performing solo Bach and also Dvorak with the Bass Quintet.

The dress rehearsal wound up taking a very long time and somehow I manage through abundant graciousness to be the last one to sound check. Honestly my sound check for both Bach and Dvorak did not go well.

I suppose it’s expected that when you’re in a new place surrounded by new musicians it’s easy to want to impress them. Well, if I can be a personal example, when I play in a way that tries to prove that I have something to say, oddly enough I usually don’t say anything of importance. I wind up getting the exact opposite result that I wanted, and it’s really counter productive. However, it’s also thankfully entirely psychological.

So when it came to the performance, I didn’t think about how anyone else played (everyone played wonderfully of course) and I certainly didn’t think about what anyone thought of me.  I just listened to the music.

After the concert, a local family approached me and in broken English thanked me for coming to France and sharing the gift of music with them. They appreciated our festival coming to play for them very much and that they felt the music with their hearts. The father asked me to demonstrate for his son the different sounds a bow (arco) could make compared to plucking (pizzicato). The little boy’s eyes lit up as I demonstrated the different sounds. Afterwards, he was so eager to show of his English he kept repeating hello and goodbye to me. Overall, I was very touched by our conversation. That’s really what I wanted coming here was to somehow communicate with my audience despite the language barrier. That evening I felt like I had accomplished just that.

Quartet Replacement

So on the first day of the festival, we had your usual orientation type meeting. It included meeting the faculty and various other announcements. One of those announcements included the shocking news that the 2^nd violinist of the resident student quartet, the Elektra Quartet, hurt their arm when they fainted in the airport. The director Kliment asked all violinists to stay behind afterwards so he could talk with us.

Meanwhile I’m thinking that would be a great opportunity to play with a serious group. Yes, I’m already playing in 3 groups, but I’ve already prepared my music so what’s one more? So, when we have our meeting I ask about the rep they’d be doing. The director asks us to think about it until lunch, but to consider playing on one of the pieces.

I’m thinking to myself, "I’ll do it!".

Before lunch break I get a knock on my door from the Zodiac Trio. They ask if I would be interested in stepping in on the Dvorak Bass Quintet. I jump at it of course.

The first rehearsal was such a treat for me. And really, the 2 rehearsals and 2 coachings after that were still such a treat for me as well.

We have our first concert in Cagnes sur mer on Wednesday.

Before this summer I was asking myself what where things I wanted and needed to get better at. One of them included being able to rehearse and prepare chamber music in a shorter amount of time. I feel confident with orchestra music being able to do what’s necessary to prepare my part in the time before rehearsals and be ready for music making in the rehearsals. I want to push myself to get to that same point with chamber music. The luxury of having an entire semester to learn something means that you… take the entire semester to learn something. So really, I couldn’t have been placed in a better situation for what I wanted to get better at. 

La Bolline, France

Well, the past 3 days have been internet-less. Which normally wouldn't be quite as problematic as it has been, but when your computer is your main form of communication abroad, that kind of leaves you disconnected from everyone.

We are on day 2 at Zodiac festival which has so far been lovely. More to come when my computer 💻 is officially in full operation- wifi and all.

On the Train to Milan

Happy 4^th of July everyone! It’s been a whirlwind 48 hours in Roma and Joel and I are both on the Express Train to Milan. After we arrive, we will both catch our connecting trains to our separate destinations: he to Zurich and I to Nice.

Our train was delayed 25 minutes this morning, which was not an issue for me. But even as I type Joel is frantically trying to figure out if and how he can connect to Zurich if he misses his scheduled train because of the delay. Never a dull moment.

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Yesterday, our only full day in Roma, was spent getting as much in as we could. The evening before we had walked all the way to the Coliseum from our B&B only to walk up to the gates closing right on us. They let in the people in front of us, but not us. We were disappointed, but decided we would make that our first stop Friday morning. We took advantage of being that far south in the city and crossed the river to the east side where our host recommended finding traditional Italian (non-tourist) cuisine. We ordered cold Antipasta, mussels and clams, and Veal tenderloin. The Veal in particular was spectacular.

Friday morning we were able to use our Roma Pass (which gave us unlimited city transportation and 2 included museum entrances) for the Coliseum and we were as a result able to bypass well over half the people who were waiting in line for tickets. I got to see a Roman Coliseum in Pula 2 years ago, but this blew that one out of the water.

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Next we took the metro back towards the Vatican to eat lunch before our tour. Multiple people had told us before coming to spend the extra money and get a guided tour through the Vatican. It was certainly expensive, but both of us appreciated the historical and artistic explanation for everything we saw. It definitely helped us fully understand all that we were seeing. I would have been overwhelmed by everything if I hadn’t had all the explanation.

What I couldn’t even begin to process was the magnitude of the history that I was experiencing. It hit me the most when I entered the Sistine Chapel (pictures forbidden). Years of looking in art history and church history books and I never imagined I would be able to actually experience in person what I was now viewing. I’ve had travel wish lists for years, but along the way you dismiss some things as being an impossibility.

 I’m so grateful that the Vatican, while not on my “childhood wishlist” was something I got to experience.

My favorite part was recognizing the story and symbolism of the paintings. There were names of Old Testament books written above all of the paintings that alternated between names I did not know. I recognized that all the OT books listed (Daniel, Joel, Isaiah, etc) were prophetic to the coming of Jesus the Messiah and the Final Judgment. On the sides were paintings leading up to and including the coming of Jesus. On the back wall was a painting of the Final Judgement. I asked the tour guide about the names, and she confirmed my observation, adding that the other names I did not recognize were Cybil (non-jewish?) prophetic writings. They apparently also foretold (and further confirmed) the coming of the Jesus. That was something I had never heard before and thought was especially cool. I will have to look more into that when I have a chance. 

We have the esteemed honor of being the last tourists inside the Vatican, escorted to the north gate by the Vatican police. There may have been a misplaced wallet in the whole situation, and the Vatican Police may have someone’s name now on file. But, that story can neither be confirmed or denied.

Afterwards, we went to St. Peter’s square to see Pope Francisco give a special occasion blessing and give a call to Catholics to pray for the persecuted Christians in the Middle East. This was of course all in Italian, but that’s what we were told by someone else. We were not a hundred yards from the Pope- now that’s pretty cool.

It soon started to rain and since we couldn’t understand what the Pope was saying we decided to leave.  As we were trying to leave the square we realized we were boxed in on all sides by rails. There were entrances that passed through security, but no exits we could get to. After walking around in circles for a while, we eventually hopped the rails (far away and out of reach from the Swiss Guards mind you) so we could get out. Apparently, if you come in to hear and see the Pope, you’re supposed to stay for the whole thing whether you want to or not.

Well, tomorrow begins the first day of the Zodiac Festival. More to come in the next few days!