On the old carriage road
Tag: Community
Ten more takes from the Met’s nightly free streaming
One bright spot in for me in this Covid-19 self-isolation has been the Metropolitan Opera’s nightly streaming of a Live in HD performance from its archive. As I mentioned in a March 23 posting, these are free and available until 3:30 the next afternoon. Better yet, the series is continuing. I’ve now seen more operas this way than I’ve seen live and in concert combined.
As I mentioned in “Spending nights at the opera on my laptop,” watching these performances is quite different from listening to them on the radio, and some of the things that stand out for me are the extraordinary level of the acting, by not just the principal singers but everyone on stage, leading to the important presence of the chorus in its role as actors and not just voices, and the brilliance of the opera’s dancers, who I’ll argue are highly underappreciated – they even move much of the set around during some productions. Yes, and those sets and costumes are amazing, even with all of the excessive luxury, expense, and unbelievable perfection that the video cameras catch even when those in the audience are oblivious at their distance. This is as close to the ideal, overall, as anyone could ever expect in live theater.
The backstage videos and interviews have also deepened my appreciation. Many kudos.
That said, let me note ten more distinctive things that are jumping out for me as I watch:
- The oath. Or, in far fewer instances, a vow. I hadn’t notice this before, but in at least 90 percent of opera, the entire drama revolves around a sworn declaration – often forced upon someone, as in a deathbed scene, but sometimes from youthful outbursts. Watch for this, as I am now. And then, swear not, as Jesus counseled. It always leads to trouble.
- The physicality of the singers. Gone are the days of lining up the big voices and the chorus behind them. Nowadays, they’re running and jumping and dancing while singing the most incredibly difficult music, even when they get a break to drop back on their backs. Look, to sing like this you need a LOT of breath (try to follow them as they sing and see where they pause to inhale) and then think about all of the other demands on their air. Got me? It’s amazing.
- The swordfights. Remember, this is live, with no room for a retake. And it’s convincing.
- Dancing or miming the overture or prelude. The opening music has often seemed like a spacer to establish the mood while latecomers arrive. Something like a mini-symphony, to spotlight the instrumentalists, before we get to the real stuff. Some of the newer productions, however, are raising the curtain by the time the conductor enters the orchestra pit and feature dancing or acting during the introductory music. It’s like showing a movie scene before rolling the credits, and even more impressive. Why haven’t we always done it this way?
- Updating the action. Trying to reset the historical setting of the story is always tricky, but when it works, it’s brilliant. Note the Met’s “Rigoletto,” move to gambling Las Vegas, which we’ve not yet viewed. But everything I’ve seen so far along these lines has been brilliant. “Macbeth” as a ‘ 50s rebellion definitely fits, once we take it out of Scotland. As does Mozart’s “Cosi fan Tutti” in Coney Island, though I wish they had swapped the couples at the finale – this production had room for that feminist power reintrepretion.
- Appreciating the subtitles. I love that these are contemporary translations, unlike the tortured Victorian-era lines I tried to follow way back when. As an exacting editor, I appreciate their high quality (only one or two places I’d object as a grammarian), My sole qualm has been in religious references when these drop into “Biblical” language, the “thee” instead of “you” line of speech, even in Drudic and Hindu instances.
- On-stage touches. Everytime I see flames in a scene, I wonder how they got that bit past the fire marshal. Not just cigarettes or cigars (hope they don’t inhale, it’s bad for the voice) to candles and torches and fireplaces and conflagrations that level a village. The use of puppetry is incredibly effective, as we’ve seen especially in “Butterfly.” And then there are the wigs, even for the chorus. (More than 2,000 a season, as we learned in a backstage interview.)
- The animals. Yes, dogs, horses, donkeys, and more … on stage!
- The collegiality of the cast. The days of the infamous prima donna is largely gone. Singers today are generally professional and respect the work of others, even when they tackle the same roles. It’s apparent in the interviews.
- Conducting. It’s not the same as leading a symphony, and I find these maestro’s motions much harder to follow. For one thing, they’re way ahead of the beat. Even so, the Met band is glorious, a far improvement over the rough-edged ensemble before James Levine’s tenure. The audience doesn’t start applauding as soon as a big singer ends an aria, either, but waits for the final orchestral note fades.
Is there anything that’s making this period of shelter-in-place somehow special?
As the random blahs kick in
So this general shutdown or shelter-in-place or self-isolation, call it want you want, is dragging on and will likely do so. Any novelty’s worn off. I miss my old routine and acquaintances. Can I assume I’m speaking for everyone?
My wife and I are lucky to live in a big enough old house so that we’re not always tripping over each other except in the kitchen. (Not that you care.) We have a big yard, too, which this time of year is beginning to demand gardening attention, getting me outside in the dirt and, well, mud. We also have access to a lovely carriage trail we can follow through a nearby woods to the top of a hill, giving us some decent exercise almost daily.
But I’ve definitely reached the state of blah, even when it’s not one of those dull wet deeply gray days. No, as I draft this, it’s partly sunny outside my window.
So here I am, up in one end of the third-floor attic, while my wife’s “working from home” with an online meeting on the first floor. I hate to walk through that. You know, the little square showing her face in the upper right-hand corner? Anyone else know the feeling? I’d move her to another room, but she’s comfortable in that particular spot. We try to adjust.
I can’t imagine being cooped up in a tiny apartment, much less with kids, though I’m sure that’s the case for many. Even a mobile unit in a trailer park would be way too confining.
What’s shut down goes beyond much of what most of us are seeing. Look, it even includes playgrounds! The one around the corner saved my sanity with the younger one more times than I can count. Let me sympathize with every parent during this duration.
But let’s try to be aware of the wider impact.
A tidbit from a digital committee meeting
Or should that be a committee’s digital meeting?
As we were considering the possibility of extending an online workshop to our Quaker fellowship, to replace an in-person one we had cancelled, some of us sighed and admitted feeling Zoom’ed out.
That’s the phrase they used. Zoom’ed out. Bet it’s quickly popping up around you, too. The way Google went from a way of looking (as in googly eyes) to an online search engine (capitalized) to a verb reflecting generic online usage, as in “googling,” even when you do it on Bing or DuckDuckGo.
Zoom isn’t the only platform being used for virtual meetings. Go To Meeting is also popular, and Skype is still there for one-on-ones, among others. Feel free to mention alternatives.
So, now that we’ve recently added “coronavirus” and “Covid-19” as new words in our common vocabulary, we’re about to add one more.
Any of you feeling Zoom’ed out yet?
Where are the Greek-American stories?
As I’ve become aware of the extensive presence of Greek-Americans in my own town and across much of New England, I’m surprised how little fiction has been written of their experience and distinctive culture.
They’re not the only ones to be largely unseen in American literature, especially as it has reflected the melting pot ideal of the wider society. Still, there are reasons distinctive identities remain, as we might see in the stories of blacks, Southerners, Irish-Americans, and Native Americans who were among those who gained a significant voice in the last half of the 20th century. Wandering through the library stacks, I’ve also been surprised to find so much by Asian-American novelists and African expatriates.
And most notably, perhaps because of their strong rabbinic tradition and support of erudition, American Jews have long been prolific writers and storytellers, producing many of the leading novelists of the 20th century.
In puzzling contrast, Greek-Americans, with perhaps as much as half the population of American Jews, have been largely invisible.
The Greek perspective is most likely to be expressed in the old country, especially in the works of Crete native Nikos Kazantakis, although I’m also intrigued by the Dubai-born Karl El-Koura, now living in Canada.
Here’s what I’ve found by Americans:
Natalie Bakopoulos’ The Green Shore is about life under the Greek junta.
Celebrated Dean Bakopoulos (My Amerian Unhappiness) looks entirely at mainstream consumer life.
Prolific D.C.-focused crime novelist George Pelecanos touches on Greek connections (Shame the Devil, for instance) without revealing anything unique to the culture – his characters could as easily be Irish or Italian.
Susannah Hardy’s Greek to Me Mysteries perhaps come closer.
The stellar exception is Michigan native Jeffrey Eugenides, whose father was of Greek descent and his mother, English and Irish.
His 2002 Middlesex is a masterpiece of not only the Greek experience before and after arriving in the New World but also of the frequently overlooked Midwest itself. His other two novels, The Virgin Suicides (1993) and The Marriage Plot (2011) also contain telling insights into the Hellenic influence.
The one other writer I know of who tackles the identity head-on is Anna Pappadapoulos and her marvelous 2015 Samaritans. The novel has both a Greek-American mother and an opening in Indiana, something it holds in common with my own What’s Left before veering off in a much more precarious life journey.
Well, yes, there is also The Movie (you know the one I mean). It is sweet and informative, but barely touches the surface and has some saccharine scenes that make those in the know blanch.
Do you know of any other Greek-American novelists or books to add to the list? Are there other ethnic or religious cultures who need better representation?
Even a local ‘soup kitchen’ suffers under Covid restrictions
My Quaker Meeting is part of two local ecumenical groups, one of them providing free twice-a-week community suppers for people in need. Our dinner guests are the homeless, especially, and others living in subsidized housing, but nobody asks questions as we welcome anyone who simply shows up. Each congregation cooks and serves its own menu on a monthly rotation. We Quakers do barbecued chicken thighs, mashed potatoes, and cole slaw, with pulled pork as the previous feature. Hey, it’s yummy and something nearly everyone likes. I love the rare times we have leftovers.
Even though the event is commonly called a soup kitchen, none of us serve soup anymore. The term simply points back to the tradition’s origins. The Methodists do lasagna. The Greek Orthodox do American chop suey and Greek salad. You get the idea.
So when our hosts at the Episcopal church decided to close their hall during the duration of the Covid-19 crisis, a concern for the dinner’s guests led to an exemption. The various congregations could still use the kitchen, but all the food would be takeout, something restaurants were later also ordered to do, while sit-down dining was prohibited.
It’s not the same, of course. We’re getting less than half of the turnout, but many are asking for two meals, to share with others, as well as an extra for the next day. So we’re happily dishing out about the same amount of food.
What we’re really missing is the community interaction. Many of the regulars enjoyed this as a time to socialize without having to spend precious cash on a place to sit. Better yet, this place was free of alcohol. Many would come early and stay till closing time, when an AA group prepared for its own meeting.
Another factor in shifting to takeout is that many of the volunteers are retirees in a Covid-19 susceptible range. Many of them are staying self-isolated, reducing the pool of workers. Usually, with everyone on board, it’s a kind of party, but when everything falls on just a few, things can be stressful. We’ll see.
But I do wonder if that’s what tipped one congregation to call in some caterers. That, or a desire to help our suffering local restaurants, too.
One other influence to consider is transportation. Our region is served by two public bus systems, both of them shut down by the coronavirus, and that may be keeping some of the regulars from getting to the church social hall.
What similar sorts of adjustments are you seeing where you live?
How are your out-of-pocket expenses going during Covid-19?
Back at the beginning of February, my wife and I each began using little notebooks to record all of our out-of-pocket spending, a practice I’ve discussed on the Talking Money series at my Chicken Farmer I Still Love You blog.
While both of us had a good grasp of where these little expenditures were going, by sitting down together once a week to compare them, we had a clearer of idea of what the other was up to as well as how some of our own impulse purchases were adding up. Or, more accurately, subtracting from our resources. I hate to admit I was probably stricter on my own indulgeances when I knew I was being watched. Ahem.
Well, we did well for most of the month and then slid on the data sharing as out schedules got out of kilter when it came to finding time of the comparisons.
Flash forward two months from that start, and I’m looking at what’s left of my notebook as well as at my wallet and coin change pile.
Quite simply, during the self-isolation of Covid-19, I’m spending very little beyond the usual checks for utilities and the like. I’m not going much of anywhere, so gasoline usage, car maintenance, and highway tolls spending are way down. My wife’s working largely from home, so her commuting costs are down, too. We can’t dine out and we’re not ordering takeout, apart from one mushroom-and-sausage pizza several weeks ago. I’m not dashing out on small grocery runs, and we are being more focused in the usual supermarket shopping, trying to keep it to once a week. Instead, we’re trying to work down through our pantry and big freezer, as far as food goes.
In addition, this is Great Lent, so we’re off wine, beer, and gin, not that we can blame that on the virus, but the savings there are significant, even as the ennui of quarantine does raise the temptation level. Admittedly, I do miss my evening ‘tini.
With many stores open reduced hours, the major shopping temptation is online. Gotta be careful there, as I see from all the Amazon and UPS and FedEx trucks popping down the street. I’m grateful every time one goes past without stopping here.
We are realizing that our charitable donations will be more important than ever.
And looking ahead, I am wondering about this year’s yard sales and how they’ll be affected.
How is the Covid-19 impacting the money in your life?
Coronavirus fuels a news storm unlike any other
The Covid-19 pandemic is an ongoing news story unlike any other we’ve seen.
Most news reports are about things that have happened – past tense – but this one is more a matter of watching things coming our way, threatening to happen in the near future.
Add in the two-week period between the time of infection and the appearance of symptoms, there’s even a sense of something ghostly in the air, a present tense that’s uncomfortably ethereal.
The closest similar coverage I can think of comes in sportswriting, as in anticipating an NFL game coming up, say, next Sunday. There, though, there are only two possible outcomes, it’s a limited time span, and a score will settle the matter.
The unhealthy emphasis on public opinion surveys regarding upcoming political elections might also fall into this future-tense focus, though we still see reports of candidate appearances and policy positions along with charges and countercharges.
With coronavirus, though, the scope spreads across many beats rather than something only on the sports desk or political reporter. It’s not just medical and health fields but also stock markets and economics, education, transportation, technology, even lifestyles as well as sports and politics as we go into lockdown and shelter-in-place. Americans aren’t used to being confined anywhere, especially with their mate.
Well, we are also seeing potential major changes in the way we do many things in the years ahead. How much will online meetings catch on, for instance? Or what will happen to local retailing? It’s all fascinating.
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There’s one other ongoing story that might emerge along these lines. Climate change.
Let’s see if experience with one leads to an increased interest in the other.
A big city and its stretch of influence
A major metropolis has a gravitational pull that reaches far beyond its city limits and suburbs. Actually, this can affect various fields quite differently.
Manhattan, for instance, holds sway over classical music and opera across the entire continent. Most soloists have an apartment there, as do many conductors who also reside in the cities whose orchestras they lead. It’s all about connections.
Los Angeles, meanwhile, has the movie industry, thanks to Hollywood, and Nashville is the nation’s country-music capital.
And Washington, as the center of national government, is always in the headlines.
You get the picture.
Across the country, smaller clusters appear. State capitals, of course, are one focus as they span all the communities in the state – and this often includes much larger cities. Again, consider Albany, miniscule in comparison to the Big Apple, or Harrisburg in between Philadelphia and Pittsburgh.
Chicago’s long reach over the meat industry is another, or the Twin Cities’ impact on the grain industry. Think of Toledo, Ohio, with glass, Detroit with the automotive world, or Pittsburgh with steel.
In fact, the economic pull and push of a city is a fascinating topic of investigation. The money that powers the place has to come from somewhere – as do the materials that supply it. In turn, the city has to sell its goods and services somewhere. It’s a matter of balancing what comes in with what goes out, in more ways than one.
So business and finance are defining elements. Again, Wall Street’s role in corporate investment gives New York national prominence, but other cities have similar impact.
About those numbers we’re all watching
Part of the fixation in watching the Covid-19 spread in the U.S. is in the suspense of discovering how accurately the experts’ projections hold up, especially in contrast to the deceptive and wishful thinking emanating from the White House and its cronies.
With the disease now in all 50 states and up more than 600 percent in the last week alone – or from 30 cases at the beginning of the month to 68,440 as of Thursday – the question becomes just how high and how fast those exponential numbers soar. You know, do our social isolation actions tamp down the rise or do continuing exposures fuel more spikes in the spread? To think, at the current rate we would have 2½ million cases in two weeks or 90 million by a month from now. Here in New Hampshire, the eventual infection rate is pegged at 50 percent.
You’re already familiar with the hospital overload potential. With 95,000 intensive care beds in the United States, most of them in regular use for heart attack and accident victims and the like, and a population of 330 million, there’s not a lot of margin to deal with.
For perspective, think what a serious cold does to you. I mean, sometimes it really zaps your thinking. Think of your workplace if even a quarter of your colleagues were out sick. Now extend that to every service you rely on. Uh-huh. Oh, yes, and what about those lingering bugs we seem to get, the ones that never quite go away like forever. By the way, a fever of 103 to 105 degrees is nothing I want to ever endure again. How about you?
And then, if our efforts really do deflate the dreadful scenarios we’re seeing, will a large portion of the public cynically dismiss the warnings as liberal hype? The disregard for the warnings has been disturbing enough, especially the part about infecting others even if you aren’t exhibiting symptoms.
The bigger health matter is not about the number of cases but rather the 20 percent of those that become life-threatening serious. Not just the deaths, either, but the potential for long-term harm. Permanent heart damage, for instance. We’re just now learning.
People under age 65 have been assuming it’s no big deal, but a figure out of France should be a wake-up call. Half of those in intensive care there were recently reported to be under 30. As for here? Welcome back from spring break. One more figure to keep an eye on.
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You know many of the other questions and uncertain answers we’re following as we watch the numbers.
- Will the number of cases actually fall off in warmer weather?
- Will the coronavirus mutate and come back hard in autumn?
- Will it become like the common cold, something that returns year after year?
- How much immunity will we have?
- How soon will a vaccine be available and what will the side-effects be? Will the anti-vaccers refuse it or welcome it?
- And then there are all the stories coming out of the “shelter-in-place” experience.
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In my circle, we’re still sputtering over the audacity of some of those who claim to be “pro-life” but now claim that the deaths of up to two million presumably older Americans is a small price to pay to “save” the economy. Remember, theirs is already a pro-military (not exactly a “pro-life” mission) camp that was all-too-ready to spout misleading anti-Obama advertising warning that “death squads” would rule important health-care decisions (totally ignoring the reality that insurance companies were already doing that) when it came to medical coverage. Now we see the true colors of these callous offiials. It’s been all about profits, not people, all along. Babies didn’t cost them anything. Honestly, they should be tagged anti-abortion. Pro-life is far more inclusive, embracing health care, housing, and education support.
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What’s surprising you the most in the Covid-19 developments? For that matter, what worries you the most?
Jnana's Red Barn 