Rigoletto on Reality Radio

On Saturdays around mid-day it’s our tradition to listen to a live matinee performance at the New York Metropolitan Opera while we clean our house. We especially like the intermissions when there are interviews of producers and singers, & guessing games. Last Saturday the opera was Giuseppe Verdi’s Rigoletto. It’s what I call a “war horse” because it never fails to bring out the crowds &, by the end, have them weeping in the aisles. I learned during the interviews that Verdi had a profound love and respect for Shakespeare. He believed that with Rigoletto he had created a tragic character almost equal to those of the Bard. Many times have the poet’s plays been produced in modern settings. Has it ever really worked? Would Rigoletto stand the same test? 

As we mop floors & scrub toilets we imagine Rigoletto, a burly basso clad in brilliant satins of his court jester's garb. The joker’s cap of floppy points covers his piteous smile belying great anger and passion. Rigoletto is hell-bent to protect his precious daughter from the predaceous Duke, even if he must conspire to commit murder by proxy. Gilda is surely the most beautiful, sweet-young-thing in opera, as she graces the stage bouncing her mass of blonde tendrils in her modest, frilly, pastel gown. She loves & respects her father; nevertheless, she is seduced by the dapper Duke. This aristocratic dandy prances around in his pale hose, shiny knee-high boots, short puffy pantaloons, slit-sleeved waistcoat, & cocky plumed hat. 

We toil away at mundane tasks as we are transported in time & place to 16th century Italy. Of course, we know that by Act III the Duke, a heartless cad, has moved on to his next conquest, & though Gilda sees it, she won’t believe her eyes. Secretly we all want the professional hit-man to kill him, but that’s not going to happen. Rigoletto is in the wrong & he is going to pay dearly for his sin. In a twist of fate the hit-man murders self-sacrificing Gilda. (Ach!) With his daughter dead in his arms Rigoletto closes the opera with "Oh the Curse!" He will live out his days ruing his misdeed while the Duke--never the wiser-- continues his life of lechery. Life can be so unfair. C'est la realité. 

Opera lovers don’t question ridiculous plots or obsolete characters, but the intermission interviews have made me aware of the great difficulty for 21st century productions to be relevant.  Who would be a court jester in the world of modern politics? Is it important for Gilda to remain a paragon of purity? Would her father need to protect her so fiercely? And the Duke? Didn’t he go out with the French Revolution? These days all sorts of sexual predators abound regardless of class or privilege. 

I really do like the opera radio hostess for these broadcasts. She’s a competent messenger, who delivers in detail the plot, sets, costumes, & curtain calls. But when I realized that she was describing a contemporary Rigoletto, I thought, “Are you kidding me? Get real!” When I tried to visualize it, I just LOL-ed. At the close of each intermission I immediately went back to my own private version. I was glad to be a listener, & not a spectator. For me Rigoletto in 2013 is utter nonsense.

Miss Piggy's Palaces

I recently read that Elin Nordegren, Tiger Wood’s Ex, is ready to move into her 21,000 square foot “mega-home” in Florida. It features an olympic pool, koi ponds, and a spa. Ooooh, how homey indeed? The announcement, loaded with superlatives, is the very thing that house-hoppers and high-end realtors thrive on. It screams, “DON’T YOU JUST WISH THIS WAS YOURS!?” 

Paradoxically, the Dallas Morning News announced that Dallas can boast the most expensive house on the market ANYWHERE in the entire USA: $135 million. (Surprise! Not Hollywood, California!) Oh yes! Dallas peons get to drive by miles and miles of these stupendous structures on their way to just about anywhere. It’s a laugh & a half to name some of these monstrosities. At any given time these exclusive areas always have many "for sale" signs. So, what gives? Aren’t the residents mega-cozy in such impressive space and luxury?  

I call these mansions Miss Piggy’s Palaces.  During a lifetime in different places and societies I’ve observed that it is the wife who has the itch for the house of her dreams. She obsesses & schemes about it much of the time until she arrives. (Joanna admits she's done this from time to time.) While normal couples usually work toward a reasonable goal, Miss Piggy doesn't seem to know when to arrive.  With Kermit finally at her side, she will best all the rest. 

Several years back I was having coffee in a lovely home of ordinary human dimensions when a budding Miss Piggy exclaimed, “This house just isn’t me! Well, actually we probably won’t be living in Dallas for very long, but still I want something that’s more moi." Then with a gleam in her eye she confided, "Even though we don’t have children, only Snookie [the toy dog] and Puff [the Persian cat], we are going to build five times as big & ultra luxurious for eventual resale.” She added piteously, “Do you think I’m crazy?” 

I truly did, but I managed to tell a saccharine white lie, “Well of course not, dear, if that’s what is important to you.” Three years later, one for construction & two for habitation, the couple with their pets moved away. I’m told that they sold their mega-home for a nice mega-profit. 

Lance & France

Doping has been a rotting rat in the Tour de France for a very long time. Does anyone imagine that Lance was the culprit who introduced these drugs? Those that doped won, those who didn’t knew they weren’t going to. In a recent interview Lance dared to say he felt that he was leveling the field. No one dared ask what he meant...... 

If Lance does not show the tears of contrition, consider how long he has been at the vortex of doping accusations: at least a decade & a half! He has become quite inured to media and personal accusations & it is doubtful that he is going to find some fresh sensitivity. But, give the guy some credit. Has he shunned the press or gone into hiding? Did you wish that he had?  

The short story of.....  Lance & France

My husband and I were roaming around the French countryside and spent the night at a chambre d’hôte, or B & B. Thanks to another unpopular person, ex-French President Nicolas Sarkosy, just about anybody who was property-poor could create a small business by opening a B & B. It allowed the French economy to open up nicely to more tourists and helped struggling real-estate owners to at least pay their crushing taxes. The couple who ran this B & B were approaching their 80’s. They depended on their grandson to help with operations, as both of them had evidently slowed down quite a bit. They were elegant in the grand old style, speaking beautiful French & knowing how to stroke their guests. 

The manor matched the couple by being genuinely noble in appearance, antiquated, & in need of repairs. With a few instructions on the peculiarities of the establishment our overnight promised a genuinely French provincial experience. Our room was vast, about the size of a medium-sized classroom, painted sky blue and trimmed out in curlicue off-white. The ceilings were no less than 10 feet high & two long single-paned double windows opened out to the gravel driveway and porte-cochére one story below.  The bed was composed of two singles pushed together, unified by an upholstered faded French blue velvet head board & bordered in gold braid. The attached bath with ancient fixtures was a trot away. The impractical wood-inlaid chest of drawers and uncomfortable upholstered chairs rested on delicate bowed legs with carved paws...which we wouldn't be using. 

The next morning we discovered the breakfast room of five tables was filled to capacity. Even an American foursome had found this place and their French was admirably functional. Madame notre (our) hôtesse made brief appearances, to tell her servant how to serve hot croissants, homemade preserves, & café au lait, for she was obviously tenuous on her swollen ankles.  But, the person in charge of keeping the conversation lively was definitely Monsieur notre hôte who remained feebly standing & ready to relay our slightest need to the back kitchen. 

Imagine our surprise in such a historical setting when right away our host began to tell us that he had been a biker in the Tour de France back in the 70’s. He obviously enjoyed expounding & fielding a few polite questions concerning the Tour in his day. How the French loved Poulidor who never won a Tour de France, but consistently came in second!  The winner was Jacques Anquetil who won five times. As Monsieur  spoke he conveyed the excitement & competitive nature of the Tour. He spoke openly about how his body had suffered, why he limped, and was arthritic. But oh, it was all worth it!  We guests were captivated as we ate quietly & mostly listened. 

Once he had gotten our undivided attention he began to explain that doping had been part of the Tour de France culture as far back as he could remember. In those days the teams came from various European countries, and from a few French provinces. There were 2 categories of bikers. Category 1 included the potential champions who were, in fact, the leaders of their teams, deemed most likely to place in the Tour de France. As team leaders they deserved the best dietitians, masseurs, & soigneurs. These sports doctors discovered that they could administer substances to their cyclists on a particular day without leaving traces in their systems.  And so it happened that the leaders were offered drugs to enhance their performance on days when the climbing was particularly arduous.

Category 2 was Les domestiques (servants); their purpose was not to win the race, but to serve the leaders of their team. Our hôte quite openly cast himself as a domestique. "Our duties were to switch out a broken bike, always have water & plenty of snacks, & help the leaders to rejoin the peloton (the leading group) when they were stopped on the side of the road for any reason. Les Domestiques were never offered drugs." 

What we learned was that doping was part of the Tour de France culture well before the advent of Lance. Not until the sudden death of champion British biker Tom Simpson in 1967, did anyone really questioned the use of drug enhancements. From then on the Tour de France governing body began systematic urinalysis and blood tests on daily winners to control doping. When Lance entered the competition in 1992 he failed miserably on the mountains. He soon learned that the only way to win was to dope. At a time when cheaters were being outed left & right Lance found a way to beat the system. In this way he won seven Tour de France to the dismay of other runners who maintained that he was doping.

Our always-a-domestique-but-never-a-leader closed with this rousing statement. "The Tour de France is such that every participant is under tremendous pressure to win at any price. This is something that is almost impossible for fans to grasp. If I had been offered to take drugs, I tell you, I would have been honored to take them! That would have meant I was destined to be a leader. & who knows? Maybe a winner!” 

With this declaration there was a prolonged silence. If this old biker was not ready to cry out, “J’accuse!", should we? Probably none would have had the courage to defend Lance, but I doubt we would be jumping on our soap box to excoriate him.  

Epilogue

Lance Armstrong has never been caught taking drugs...as so many others have been i.e. Alberto Cantador, Bjarne Riis, & Marco Pantini. The case against him has been won on the testimony of teammates, in particular Floyd Landis who thought he could win after Lance retired, but got caught for doping anyway.

Germany V - A Folkloric Flourish

The old and the new: bridesmaids & groomsmen wait at the cathedral in Regensburg. In the distance note the scaffolding and white plastic tarp where cleaning and refurbishing are being done.

Where did all the cows go?

We happened to be staying in an area that raises livestock. We could smell the cows, but we never saw them. J.J. was obsessed by the absence of cows on beautiful grassy slopes with obvious barns. According to #2, cows are not allowed into the fields to tromp the beautiful grass. Rather they are kept inside the barns and the grass is harvested and brought to them to consume. J.J. was outrée & heartsick for the cows who he felt were denied their basic nature to roam & ruminate at will in the open fields.

At intervals fresh cow manure is spread on the fields for refertilization. Now that is a very stinky day for everyone in rural areas, but also for the cities down wind! 

6 special recycling bins: This poor lady is down wind!

Organized garbage

There are six (yes 6!) recycle bins for German garbage. They are: 1) clear glass, 2) green glass) 3) brown glass 4) plastic 5) paper 6) metal. Woe be unto the citizen who does not recycle properly. Some well-meaning, well-disciplined, fair-minded compatriot will report him for non-compliance. & there will be a fine.

Tax on radio and TV

Surely a descendant of Thor

The same goes for communications. If you don’t pay the tax to enjoy your favorite programs you are sure to be reported. No good saying you never use these services because even if you have a car radio YOU ARE IN INFRACTION & you will probably be anonymously reported, You will be fined & the fine will far supersede the tax.

The church tax

Always busy cleaning a church

This one is easier to evade. There are many shameful believers who claim to be atheists to avoid the tax.  The tax money maintains the beautiful churches & to some extent pays the clergy. We’ve heard that if it was known that a believer didn’t pay the tax   he/she might be denied sacraments!

Baths

One of the things to do if you possibly can is to go to a bath house in Germany. We did this on our very last day. After our long walk through all these countries I’ve been telling you about it was simply divine: outside & inside pools, different temperatures, different sprays & underwater chutes to massage your muscles. The pools are gigantic, but not very deep. With poolside chairs lining the sides one can loll as long as one pleases. The prices are very reasonable. No doubt the hygienic cleanliness of these establishments depends to some extent on traditionally high standards of German patrons. 

Street corner in Passau: Who are the real people? 

A closer look

The Beer Gardens. 

Waiting for the evening crowd

These establishments usually have an outside and an inside. Both are equally inviting. I’m sure the weather dictates which one gets the most customers. When we were in Germany there were takers for both atmospheres because June was only crisp outside and practically unheated inside where there might be games or televised sports events. 

Bonfires for the St. John

This is a big celebration in the nordic countries which coincides with the harvesting of wheat and hay around mid to late June. Around 8 o’clock on our last evening we walked to the open fields just beyond the neighborhood where an enormous bonfire was aglow. We felt very privileged to be invited because this usually is a celebration for residents, & not specially for passing visitors. However, there was beer for everyone & a bit of picnic fare. As night descended between 9 & 10 o’clock “our”  bonfire was big, blazing, & pumping heat. In the distance we could see other community bonfires. Harkening back to an old ritual, a time far from the madding crowd, when folks loved these celebrations for drawing together.  It was a wonderful finish  to a grand tour.

Austria - The Sound of Music Revisited in Salzburg

Salzburg central: Mozart (for better or worse!)

Bishopric Gardens: It was difficult to choose the best photos for the formal gardens.

I liked this one because it shows the artistry of layout with the tourists feasting their eyes & taking photos.

If one believes the movie “Amadeus” Mozart hated Salzburg. He considered it a small and unsophisticated burg. Well, if that was so, Salzburg hardly took notice for today, albeit a relatively small city, it seems to be entirely devoted to its great musicians and performers. 

It is now a town of great beauty and perfection, and amazingly unfazed by modernity. No doubt it makes a good deal of income from tourism, & its residents have every reason to maintain their Sound-of-Music image in tip-top shape.

Horse drawn buggies resting in the shade; I suppose they work more at night.

Typical fancy dress for women

Two for one: this is the best photo I have for fancy dress for men

Salzburg boasts year-round concerts, operas, ballets, & puppet opera productions. It also hosts a variety of festivals, not the least of which is of course, is the famed Mozart Festival. 

Papagena & Papageno

Period opera

Obviously an opera set in the '50's

The story book image is for real. One will observe these Austrians wearing fancy folkloric costumes, groups of gaily dressed street performers, & even small mixed choruses all decked out in something Heidi might have worn.  

Salzburg isn't so small!

Wouldn't you like to take tea or coffee and watch the passersby here?

Salzburg is located in a valley in the  foothills of the Alps on the Salzach River. A fun thing to do is to take the funicular up to the Mönchsberg (mountain of the monks), a wooded ridge where the Hohensalzburg, a fortress, was built in 1077, to defend the city below. 

Inside the courtyard of the Abbey of St. Peter

Here also, the Benedictine Abbey of St. Peter was constructed in the 17th & 18th century. Both of these structures serve for open air & indoor concerts, and to house an extensively diverse museum. 

Inside the museum

I liked it for two things: 1) the part of the museum devoted to opera puppets and 2) the magnificent view.  

The Abbey of St. Peter & the old Fortress tower; In the background clearly the Alps

The hills are truly alive with the sound of music!

Germany III - Rich Old Regensburg

Beautifully restored rathaus: "New"golden  city hall 

Inside the Rathaus

Regensburg!…. I never knew anything about it & well I should have. What makes it special is the extent to which its ancient structures have survived & there’s nothing “cosy” about it. It’s big, bustling and prosperous. 

Central Platz: Nothing Cosy!

Romanesque church almost destroyed in WWII; protected, but not cleaned or refurbished just yet

Could just be that after all the wars and tumult this city is not really so different than it was in its medieval heyday. Without too much stretch of imagination we could envision the city whose purpose as a major port on the extremity of the Danube was well established very early on. 

Let’s go way back. In its tender beginnings Regensburg was a celtic town called Radasbona. It became Castra Regina under the Romans during the reign of Marcus Aurelius. During the campaign against the barbarians (179 - 180 A.D.) he fortified the town for the purpose of protecting the southern portion of Germany along the Danube-Rhine border. 

A lot more peaceful now, but still just as utilized

Castra means fort, but (surprise!) Regina doesn’t mean queen, it was the name of a small river that empties into the Danube. This name naturally morphed into the German Regensburg, as the city no longer functioned as a fort.

This Renaissance mansion was built straight up by a rich burgher. It was impossible to photograph the entire structure with the top.

Two things made Regensburg a major city. First, in 845 the Bishopric of Regensburg received the visit of 14 Czech & Slovak noblemen seeking Christian baptism. Regensburg then became the center of catholic evangelization of Czechs & Slovaks. This single event determined that these slavic people would go toward western Europe in terms of culture and civilization and not, as might have been expected, with the Orthodox slavs of eastern Europe. 

Early Czech and Slovak nobles on a mission

Second, in 1142 a stone bridge was built over the Danube and suddenly Regensburg became a major transit town between northern Germany and Venice. By going through through the northernmost point of the Danube, Regensburg, saved time for merchants of northern Germany trading with Venice & vice versa. 

How old? Even older than ol' J.J.

The bridge quickly paid for itself through tolls & brought prosperity to the town. This enabled its bishopric to build a fabulous gothic cathedral, still standing, while all the others were destroyed & replaced by rococo churches at a much later date. 

Statuette of Pope Boniface who initiated construction of St. Peter's Cathedral

St. Peter's flank: All repaired and cleaned up

Modern Regensburg remains the most upstream port on the Danube. It is on the list of UNESCO’S prime protected historical cities. 

She's off to give a guided tour of the town. I've noticed that Germans provide entertainment & such in authentic costume. Fun!

It is traditionally known as a great university town where catholic theologians are groomed in league with an enlightened bishopric. Many will know that Pope Benedict, Joseph Ratzinger, is a product of this tradition & was for 10 years a professor of theology at the university. 

Can't you tell how scholarly these 3 gents are? 

Maybe they used to study and debate unter dem linden

Germany II - A Stark Comparison

So sober and elegant!

This church stands in stark contrast to the rococo of other churches we visited. Shall we call it neo-gothic? All statues, plants, flowers & icons are against purest, unadorned white walls. I love the clear round ball-chandeliers suspended from the ceiling. 

Beautiful madonna & child

The Apse: no stain glass; only potted parlor palms

Side Chapel: Note the exposed crypt in the 2 clear diamond shaped floor windows.

Blessed Gisela - first Abbess of Holy Trinity

After the death of her husband in the early 1000's Queen Gisela of Hungary returned to Passau to live the rest of her life. Passau belonged to her father, Duke of Bavaria. She lived an exemplary life and in the late 1800's she was beatified, but surprisingly, not sainted. If the Papacy did not believe she was a saint, the Hungarians certainly do; her tomb is the object of a pilgrimage for Hungarians all over Europe. If not a miracle, it was certainly a great event when the first Magyar king was converted from a pagan tradition to Christianity. He was sainted and became the patron saint of Hungary, Saint Stephen.* And who but his sweet wife might have been the instrument of his sainthood? 

Gisela's Tomb: Notice the fresh flowers.

*See earlier posts on Hungary: # 47 Hungarian History