For the first while, as I trudged around icy and snow-laden Berlin, staring up at enormous, boxy edifices that are miles apart, and looking acorss squares a kilometre in area, I asked myself, "What is it about Berlin that I am missing?"
Because Berlin is one of the world's top tourist destinations, at least in my age group. There had to be something I wasn't seeing.
Each thing I do here, though, gives me a glimmer of what that is. It turns out Berlin is just playing hard to get -- a lot like Toronto, actually, in that a first impression of Toronto isn't always dazzling, but once you get to know the city you realize just how much it has to offer.
Last night was a Nuit Blanche of sorts - all of the museums and many other attractions were open and accessible on one (cheap) ticket. I saw the Dom, the Guggenheim, and the Musical Instruments museum, where they were showing silent films with a man playing a historically accurate organ as accompaniment. Berlin is full of incredible museums and galleries; I wish I could have seen more.
Tomorrow I leave for Freiburg, where I hope to frolic in the Black Forest and spend some time with a new friend, a fellow singer I met in Arezzo. She's Texan! I think my hosts live in the hippie commune near Freiburg so I will get a chance to see exactly how green I can handle my life...
Bonjour, c'est moi.
- Danielle
- Your average Canadian soprano sallies forth into the big bad world of classical music in search of integrated, meaningful experiences as a performer and spectator. Currently in Baltimore, MD, pursuing a Masters degree in voice performance under the tutelage of Phyllis Bryn-Julson. Special interest in contemporary and experimental classical music, as well as interdisciplinary projects.
31 January 2010
30 January 2010
Ich bin ein donut!
The dust has settled a little and I have a few minutes to write something.
I arrived here on a train from Den Haag -- it still amazes me that only 6 hours can pass and I am in a different country -- on Wednesday, and was greeted by a Canadian blizzard that had decided to holiday in Germany this year. The next day was already a million times better, however, and I got the chance to wander around the core for a first glance at Berlin and see the New Museum, which has just been reopened following post-war renovations. I did spend about an hour wandering around looking for the music school at which I had an audition today (for the Britten Pears program) - Berlin is just SO BIG that it takes you forever to walk around buildings and get from one block to the next. Moreover, you never run into anyone -- the city appears empty because it is so spread out. Also, the buildings in their Cold War splendour rise up around you like humungous building blocks. It's an intimidating city.
I can't say just yet that it's my absolute favourite. There hasn't been a spark for me with Berin just yet, though I approached one viewing the information at Checkpoint Charlie and the markings showing the former location of the Wall. It more just makes me heart hurt than anything, though, that this city is so full of pain and suffering in its history, and the tourist attractions are basically grim recollections and testaments as if the inhabitants of the city have resigned themselves to reliving the horror each day so that it will never be repeated. I'm not saying that all tourist attractions are sunshine and rainbows, and certainly Italy has its share of pain and suffering in its history too, and many, many other countries, but this city has a different flavour. Maybe because the Wall fell in recent history, the atmosphere of the time still lingers in the air.
One thing I can say about Berlin -- opera, opera, opera!!! Literally -- there are three houses. I took my couchsurfing host to his first opera tonight -- Lohengrin (everyone marvel at the courage of this first-timer to take on such a beast as that). Ben Heppner sang the lead but I was also blown away by Ortrud, played by Waltraud Meier. She got the biggest shout outs from the audience, too.
I'm spending the weekend here and I have an evening train to Freiburg on Monday. I'll be pleased to leave the snow but I know that I will be leaving Berlin with the intention of coming back.
I arrived here on a train from Den Haag -- it still amazes me that only 6 hours can pass and I am in a different country -- on Wednesday, and was greeted by a Canadian blizzard that had decided to holiday in Germany this year. The next day was already a million times better, however, and I got the chance to wander around the core for a first glance at Berlin and see the New Museum, which has just been reopened following post-war renovations. I did spend about an hour wandering around looking for the music school at which I had an audition today (for the Britten Pears program) - Berlin is just SO BIG that it takes you forever to walk around buildings and get from one block to the next. Moreover, you never run into anyone -- the city appears empty because it is so spread out. Also, the buildings in their Cold War splendour rise up around you like humungous building blocks. It's an intimidating city.
I can't say just yet that it's my absolute favourite. There hasn't been a spark for me with Berin just yet, though I approached one viewing the information at Checkpoint Charlie and the markings showing the former location of the Wall. It more just makes me heart hurt than anything, though, that this city is so full of pain and suffering in its history, and the tourist attractions are basically grim recollections and testaments as if the inhabitants of the city have resigned themselves to reliving the horror each day so that it will never be repeated. I'm not saying that all tourist attractions are sunshine and rainbows, and certainly Italy has its share of pain and suffering in its history too, and many, many other countries, but this city has a different flavour. Maybe because the Wall fell in recent history, the atmosphere of the time still lingers in the air.
One thing I can say about Berlin -- opera, opera, opera!!! Literally -- there are three houses. I took my couchsurfing host to his first opera tonight -- Lohengrin (everyone marvel at the courage of this first-timer to take on such a beast as that). Ben Heppner sang the lead but I was also blown away by Ortrud, played by Waltraud Meier. She got the biggest shout outs from the audience, too.
I'm spending the weekend here and I have an evening train to Freiburg on Monday. I'll be pleased to leave the snow but I know that I will be leaving Berlin with the intention of coming back.
25 January 2010
I'm in Holland!
Forgive me. My internet access is dubious at best these days as I city-hop and roam for unsecured connections. Updates are therefore going to be a bit spotty, and in the case of this one, a little more uninspired, though there is much to be inspired about. It's more a question of time.
I stepped off the train in Amsterdam yesterday and nearly cried. What a shock after the terracotta and whitewash of Italy. The architecture of Holland, after so long on the peninsula, seems exotic to me, and the flavour of the city is significantly late 17th and early 18th century, and smacks of the affluence the Dutch bourgeoisie enjoyed at that time. Holland was incredibly successful on the international markets and culture thrived; there is no shortage, surely, in Amsterdam.
I find myself now in the Hague for a couple of days, which is a city of smaller proportions but great international importance. The Peace Palace against the sky at dusk takes your breath away. The city is home to over 100 other international organizations, as well as the Dutch Parliament, and the city centre is full of gorgeous 18th century buildings.
The snow has stopped so it has been truly enjoyable to walk and gawk. Tomorrow I tour the Conservatory and meet some teachers -- the fun begins!
Pictures will come.
Postscript:
Remember the shoe drama of Italy? Well, I think I have learned my lesson... NEver buy Italian shoes if you're made for comfort, not fashion. The only shoes I ever bought in Italy gave me grief. I have either extreme strain, a stress fracture, or arthritis in my right big toe on account of the boots I wore all fall and winter... and they were good boots. They are living with my Milanese family now... good riddance.
I stepped off the train in Amsterdam yesterday and nearly cried. What a shock after the terracotta and whitewash of Italy. The architecture of Holland, after so long on the peninsula, seems exotic to me, and the flavour of the city is significantly late 17th and early 18th century, and smacks of the affluence the Dutch bourgeoisie enjoyed at that time. Holland was incredibly successful on the international markets and culture thrived; there is no shortage, surely, in Amsterdam.
I find myself now in the Hague for a couple of days, which is a city of smaller proportions but great international importance. The Peace Palace against the sky at dusk takes your breath away. The city is home to over 100 other international organizations, as well as the Dutch Parliament, and the city centre is full of gorgeous 18th century buildings.
The snow has stopped so it has been truly enjoyable to walk and gawk. Tomorrow I tour the Conservatory and meet some teachers -- the fun begins!
Pictures will come.
Postscript:
Remember the shoe drama of Italy? Well, I think I have learned my lesson... NEver buy Italian shoes if you're made for comfort, not fashion. The only shoes I ever bought in Italy gave me grief. I have either extreme strain, a stress fracture, or arthritis in my right big toe on account of the boots I wore all fall and winter... and they were good boots. They are living with my Milanese family now... good riddance.
15 January 2010
I think a post every other day is a much more reasonable resolution..
I head off on my epic adventure tomorrow, so I thought I would post my itinerary in case anyone was curious or had TIPS or THINGS TO DO so that they can live vicariously through me.
16-18 Jan -- Arezzo
19-22 Jan -- Avellino
23 Jan -- Amsterdam
24-27 Jan -- The Hague
27-30???31???? Jan -- Berlin
end of Jan -- 5 Feb -- Koln, Mannheim, Heidelberg, Freiburg
5 Feb - 10 Feb -- Basel, Genève, Lausanne (with detour to French countryside)
10 Feb - 12 Feb -- Berlin
I come home with great pomp and ceremony (that's a lie) on 12 Feb and arrive in the late afternoon. I leave shortly thereafter for Baltimore to do an audition at Peabody Conservatory, and then I spend a week in Toronto before a few days at Bard College, where I am auditioning for their Masters in Vocal Arts.
On my epic adventure I have several teachers to meet for lessons, schools to see, and operas to attend, but part of it is soaking in the atmosphere of a place. With the exception of Berlin, where I have auditions and will thus be staying in a hotel, I want to couchsurf with people who are actually living in that city and can help me get a sense of what it's like.
So if you have any friends, let a girl know.
I can't wait to unleash my three sentences of German on their unsuspecting populace... they will never know what hit them.
16-18 Jan -- Arezzo
19-22 Jan -- Avellino
23 Jan -- Amsterdam
24-27 Jan -- The Hague
27-30???31???? Jan -- Berlin
end of Jan -- 5 Feb -- Koln, Mannheim, Heidelberg, Freiburg
5 Feb - 10 Feb -- Basel, Genève, Lausanne (with detour to French countryside)
10 Feb - 12 Feb -- Berlin
I come home with great pomp and ceremony (that's a lie) on 12 Feb and arrive in the late afternoon. I leave shortly thereafter for Baltimore to do an audition at Peabody Conservatory, and then I spend a week in Toronto before a few days at Bard College, where I am auditioning for their Masters in Vocal Arts.
On my epic adventure I have several teachers to meet for lessons, schools to see, and operas to attend, but part of it is soaking in the atmosphere of a place. With the exception of Berlin, where I have auditions and will thus be staying in a hotel, I want to couchsurf with people who are actually living in that city and can help me get a sense of what it's like.
So if you have any friends, let a girl know.
I can't wait to unleash my three sentences of German on their unsuspecting populace... they will never know what hit them.
14 January 2010
cultural difference tidbit of the day.
We were discussing how to say the numbers 1-5 in English over dinner today (I live with toddlers) and thus, counting on our fingers. It became apparent that we counted in different manners. The toddler's Nonno told me that once, he saw a movie in which a certain actor was playing a European character, and at first it was difficult to tell if his accent was real, if he was just a realyl great actor, until he raised his middle three fingers to indicate the number to someone -- then, related Nonno, you knew right away this was an American. Europeans use their thumb and first two fingers.
It made me reflect on the level of detail a director has to pay attention to in order to achieve authenticity. I thought of Emma Dante and her Sicilian Carmen. Noone but a Sicilian could pull it off, obviously, and having a director who is as intimately familiar with a culture as only a native can be lends a performance that much more nuance and credibility. It can be used to comic effect as well -- there were some glaring stereotypes in My big fat Green Wedding, but Nia Vardalos' subtler one-woman show was developed out of her own experience, and yes, that is what makes it authentic -- it's hers -- but what makes it culturally authentic is that she IS Greek. So what business do a lot of us have meddling in music written in Russia, or Italy even, when our level of removal from those cultures can be so vast?
Well, there is no answer to that question, actually. It's rhetorical. But I ask it of myself at nearly every performance I attend.
I saw a recital that defied the odds the other night -- a Russian baritone whose performance of Ravel's Chansons de Don Quichotte were far better than his Rach and Tchaik sets. Weird, eh? Well, there's a first for everything I guess.
It made me reflect on the level of detail a director has to pay attention to in order to achieve authenticity. I thought of Emma Dante and her Sicilian Carmen. Noone but a Sicilian could pull it off, obviously, and having a director who is as intimately familiar with a culture as only a native can be lends a performance that much more nuance and credibility. It can be used to comic effect as well -- there were some glaring stereotypes in My big fat Green Wedding, but Nia Vardalos' subtler one-woman show was developed out of her own experience, and yes, that is what makes it authentic -- it's hers -- but what makes it culturally authentic is that she IS Greek. So what business do a lot of us have meddling in music written in Russia, or Italy even, when our level of removal from those cultures can be so vast?
Well, there is no answer to that question, actually. It's rhetorical. But I ask it of myself at nearly every performance I attend.
I saw a recital that defied the odds the other night -- a Russian baritone whose performance of Ravel's Chansons de Don Quichotte were far better than his Rach and Tchaik sets. Weird, eh? Well, there's a first for everything I guess.
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