No Prodigies

It has been interesting to work and spend time in my onetime home city of Pori, Finland. During my early to mid twenties I lived in nearby Noormarkku, of Alvar Aalto’s Villa Mairea fame, for five years, teaching, playing and raising my first family. I even had a splendid house built there. Already then I had this curse following me as another incompetent conductor had my first wife fired from the concertmaster position on a technicality and made sure that the teaching position, which I held at what later became the Palmgren Conservatory, was eliminated. Of course, it didn’t take long for the conductor to lose his own job and he recently retired from his post as the head of a small local music school some 40 miles away.

I visited this place two years ago and liked what I saw. As a result I was invited to hold master classes and play a recital in this province’s String Festival. There are still former students of mine in the area playing in the orchestra and teaching. It was nice to see so many of them at my concert. Another eight hours of teaching tomorrow and then I’m free to visit my late uncle’s widow, and after that my elderly father, some 200 miles to the east from here. Observations so far: 1. I really don’t like flying although I traveled Business Class and overnighted at Heathrow. 2. Halcion gives a good night’s sleep unlike Ambien which wakes one up after about five hours but it also playing tricks on one’s memory. 3. Tuning to an A at 443 or higher is enough to make music sound strange if one has perfect pitch. I play fine but can’t really tell what notes I’m producing.

Today I listened to almost 40 young instrumentalists perform and gave them both verbal and written feedback. A distinguished Finnish cellist, Raimo Sariola, was there, too, so we both took part in the long day. Tomorrow he’ll present his class and I’ll offer mine. It turns out that we both traveled to Warsaw as representatives of the Sibelius Academy in 1972. He was the only student in the group and I was faculty, although we are about the same age. Now he is a passionate pedagogue in great demand.

Of course I was most curious of the level of the young musicians which started at under the age of ten and continued up to their 20s. Among the older ones there were some amazing young artists in both the violin and cello. The younger ones were all gifted but compared to the American scene, the child prodigies and the stage parents that come with them are totally missing. They simply don’t exist in this system. Yet these youngsters will turn into fine young artists when the spoon-fed American Wunderkinder are ready to pack their instruments for the last time. I think this way is far healthier.

The Finns are great educators and the proof is in the pudding. In regular school achievement Finland competes with South Korea for the #1 spot, yet the methods couldn’t be any dissimilar. While the Korean system practically tortures their children with insanely long days and special classes after school, the Finnish children live a very Western free life. Teaching as a profession is highly regarded and failing schools don’t exist. It is said that the test score difference between the “best” and the “worst” schools is somewhere between 2 and 4 percent, in other words almost nonexistent. Schools are usually small, perhaps 400-500 students, and issues therefore are more manageable. If there is a problem, parents are invited to the schools to discuss the issue immediately and if help, from the social services for example, is needed, the school will take care of the matter, and successfully. I'm not trying to insist that this society is all healthy and perfect, as a couple terrible school shootings in recent years have proven otherwise.

So, these kids may not be trained monkeys sawing away on their Khachaturian concerto at breakneck speed, but they have incredible raw talent and I have no doubt that in a few years their level will have surpassed the other. And since they have pursued the studying from their own desire to learn, they also are able to read music with total fluency. The Finnish system provides not only affordable private lessons but throws in mandatory theory classes and various ensembles. Sadly, the great Hollywood import American Idol has influenced the Finns and they now have their own version of it. More and more people prefer instant stardom rather than working diligently for year and years. Interest in classical music has declined here, too, but it certainly isn’t in a dangerous territory yet. I wish America could export other values than Hollywood images with car chases and endless shooting scenes, or American style investing and consumerism, collapse of which has had a negative impact even this far. We have a great country but don’t often understand its real worth.

Dear Mr. Obama, please make us a proud nation again. It has been such a long time.

Oh, I almost forgot, walking on crunchy snow feels great. No blizzards this time!

Old Pori: suomiopas.fi
www.monkeymusic.co.uk

Berlin noch einmal

Between fighting the nastiest cold in years, and teaching, playing and getting prepared for an overseas recital, I have tried to find time to enjoy my subscription to the Berliner Philharmoniker's Digital Concert Hall. The benefits of viewing a great orchestra perform as if I were sitting in the middle of the group are many, although some of the observations haven't been all positive. Firstly, due to the distance and the nature of the internet, connections are not always working ideally. This should not come as a surprise to anyone using one of the numerous VoIP services: sometimes the calls are as good or better than over regular landlines, but at other times there are annoying interruptions. For the most part this hasn't been a major issue. Seeing musicians at work from a close distance is revealing. Some string players seem to play over the fingerboard, thus not contributing much to the orchestra's sound. Who would have guessed that at least two of the trombones and a French horn use instruments which at a first glance look like they came from the Salvation Army, certainly not shining the way everything is supposed to do in America? On closer inspection one, of course, notices that these instruments are a labor of love in the true sense of the word, hand-forged by a master maker. Unlike violins among an American collector's treasures, not even the string instruments have to shine as if they came from Sears. Many of them actually look the way a well-used violin or other string instrument should and would have, before the annoying habit of making everything gleam and glitter as if they were right out of a factory, finished off with glass-like hard layer of French polish.

As Germany today has over 130 professional orchestras, it is obvious that classical music is still serious business over there. In comparison, the United States should have over 460 such orchestras, following the same orchestra/population ratio. That obviously is hardly the case, and fundamentally the two systems couldn't be more different. There an orchestra, an opera company or a theater is part of the social fabric and mainly paid for from monies collected in taxes. Here, unfortunately, most such institutions have become a playground, or sandbox, for the very wealthy philanthropists. Often they are crooks (just think of Madoff, Axelrod and some other Murky characters) with no real interest in the Arts. They love to see their names on a wall of a hall and to be treated as if they are great humanitarians. Brownnosing knows no limits: conductors are often masters at that, telling some wealthy old prune that she looks ever-so-youthful and beautiful, with a phony smile. But in any American orchestra there are also individuals among the musicians who manage to flatter major donors, simply to advance their own agendas.

Like their American counterparts, the European institutions are suffering in the present economic crisis. Berliner Philharmoniker is no exception and has had its problems even before today's financial meltdown. One of the reasons the players like Sir Rattle so much is that he went to battle for better wages for his musicians. He has faced a lot of criticism from papers over there, some claiming that he is the weakest conductor they've ever had. That isn't evident from their playing, at least when they are doing standard repertoire. Perhaps the Germans aren't used to someone looking like he is in ecstasy all the time. In any case the group plays very well for him, in spite of the minimal help he is offering to keep them together. But the orchestra is forced to play as a large chamber group this way, listening to each other at all times, and they do so remarkably well. Sir Simon Rattle is no Sir Metro Gnome, that's for sure. The other day I was watching Zubin Mehta conducting Mahler. Either he has had to work a lot with less capable orchestras or his approach to conducting is more mechanical. Observing him carefully beat time even during rests made me understand why the orchestras he spent a lot of time with, Los Angeles and New York Philharmonics, usually sounded uninspired. Accurate, yes, but over-conducted as well.

The obvious difference between the people who end up on the podium in Berlin is that they perform the major works always from memory, unlike some self-proclaimed "greats" on this side of the Atlantic. Even all the tricky cues in Mahler were there in Mr. Mehta's performance. The nasty but brilliant Finnish critic Seppo Heikinheimo once wrote a review with a big headline "Pää pahvissa" or "Head in Cardboard" about a respectable musician who felt the need to use music for everything. Yes, playing tricky concertos from memory can be too frightening a thought for some want-to-be soloists, but a conductor doesn't make sounds (although some grunt and hiss) and wrong notes are not an issue. If he/she thoroughly knows the composition, waiving one's arms to the music should be child's play. Of course, if the orchestra is not top notch and there is a possibility musicians might get lost and come in wrong, a score is useful to have. I have played under baton-wielders who have conducted from memory but actually got lost in something like the "Rite of Spring." That's when we write "DLU" for "Don't Look Up" in the parts. But this is more understandable because of the complicated rhythm patterns, and of course with accompanying a soloist a Partitur should be at hand, as many of those artists make mistakes, no matter how seasoned they are.

Visually, due to the stage being in the middle, a maestro cannot make the ugly faces at his workforce some feel the need to do, as much of the audience has a clear view of them. In case of Berlin, there is also a camera that is zoomed on them, and they have to be on their best behavior. This naturally makes the workplace far more pleasant to the players. The new hall in Copenhagen is very similar to the one in Berlin, even more radical in design. Initial reports are that it sounds wonderful. It is satisfying to play in a string section and know that the audience can hear you or your section at all times. It clearly wasn't designed by a brass player whose idea of great sound is blasting horns and deafening percussion.

It has been exciting to follow President Obama's inauguration festivities. It is amazing that we have a leader who can speak in complete sentences and intelligent ones yet. I'll write more about him later but wanted to point out the tiny fraction of performances during the celebrations that would fall into the "classical" category. This art form has obviously become ever more elitist. My darling wife was upset about all the popular music but I reminded her that this has always been the case in America. In the past the pop artist might have been called Caruso or Kreisler; now times are different. Obviously what many of us old-timers regard as noise is appealing to majority of people. Those desiring a profession in classical music can only dream of the tens of thousands of jobs 460 orchestras would provide.

Berlin and Copenhagen Concert Halls

Lawyer’s Reunion

Years ago I was reading through "Indiana", the first book published under the pen name George Sand (in real life by Aurore Dupin, also known as Baroness Dudevant). George Sand is of course known as having been the mistress of Frederic Chopin, but she was also a famous writer and feminist. I was intrigued by one of the settings in the book, as it speaks of a tropical island of Bourbon. Being a geography buff since childhood, I had never heard of such an island. The book mentions that there are two volcanoes on it. The web search engines were in their infancy and I didn't get very far. One interpretation I read claimed that the place existed only in the author's imagination. I went through all the world atlases I have (every single major one printed is in our bookcases) and finally discovered the island of Réunion in the middle of the Indian Ocean that indeed had two volcanoes and still was an overseas territory of France. Off to a French web site that gave the history of the island and indeed the place had been known as Île Boubon twice, after the royal house. What made the place even more fascinating was the fact that the island is situated almost exactly on the opposite side of Seattle on the globe. Since it is still a part of France, it is also a member of the EU and the euro is used as currency. Its only neighbor is the island of Mauritius. A vote was taken on both islands ; Mauritius chose independence from Britain but Réunion decided to remain French.

Every so often Réunion pops up in the news. Not long ago it had a terrible epidemic of Chikungunya, a mosquito-born arbovirus that left over two hundred dead on the island of less than 800,000 in 2005-06. More recently an article in Der Spiegel caught my eye. It was about a French lawyer, Jacques Vergès, who has been defending terrorists for many decades. He was raised in Réunion, having been born in Thailand from a French father and a Vietnamese mother. At first the story upset me but I read it a second time, then a third and I began to understand. I made my wife Marjorie read it, too, and her initial reaction was even stronger than mine, especially after learning that Mr. Vergès had been Klaus Barbie's attorney in the late 1980s. Klaus Barbie was of course the Butcher of Lyon who after the war worked for the U.S. Army Counter Intelligence Corps, escaped to Bolivia via Argentina, took the name Klaus Altmann and ended up providing weapons to Israel after the Six Day War, and the ensuing trade embargo. A few days ago a DVD from the library showed up here, titled Terror's Advocate. It is a French documentary which helps to illuminate the controversial character of Jacques Vergès.

It turned out that the German article was nothing but a synopsis of the film. The English title is purposely somewhat misleading as "advocate" simply refers to an attorney and a lawyer in a few locations, such as Scotland, South Africa and, of course, France. Clearly Mr. Vergès had a leftist and an anti-colonial viewpoint. On the island a "colored" person was a second class citizen and had to step aside to give right-of-way to a white person walking. The young attorney began practicing law in Algeria and ended up defending women who had placed bombs for the independence movement. He fell in love with his most famous client, Djamila Bouhired, who initially was sentenced to death but whose sentence was commuted to life in hard labor, thanks to the international pressure Mr. Vergès was able to create. She was later freed as Algeria became independent and the two married, although the union didn't last long. In the documentary Jacques Vergès emerges as a very intelligent and sympathetic person but somewhat full of himself, perhaps for a reason. After vanishing from the face of the earth for eight years (obituaries were written, nobody knows where he was and what he was doing during that time), he reappeared and offered to represent Klaus Barbie. At the trial the prosecution featured 39 lawyers, Mr. Vergès was alone. Yet he managed to draw parallels to France's colonial past and practice, proving that it wasn't all that different from what took in place during the Vichy years. Yes, Mr. Barbie was sentenced to life in prison but many of the most serious charges were dismissed. Never claiming that his client was innocent, the attorney nevertheless managed to outsmart the government's army of prosecutors. Barbie died just a few years later in prison of leukemia. The interviewer asked Jacques Vergès if he would have defended Adolf Hitler and his reply was: "I would even defend Bush, but only if he admitted his guilt first."

It is interesting that a defense attorney doesn't view his client "innocent" or try to solicit such a verdict from a jury and a court of law. In this country of ours one is either guilty or innocent, even if the truth is somewhere in between. Mr. Vergès seems to believe that even the worst terrorist has a right for a defense, and if no one else is willing to accept the task, he will. He is a very smart man and able to convince even his enemies. Had I had his legal help years ago, some prominent members of society would have no doubt fallen from grace and perhaps ended up behind bars with other monsters. One can always dream.

Distant as it is, I have a feeling one day in my retirement I'll be able to travel to the mysterious island with the two volcanoes.

in photos: George Sand, Réunion from space, Jacques Vergès

Ich bin ein Berliner

More than any other city in Europe Berlin has been a center for sciences and culture, along with Nazism and the Cold War. At one point it was the home to Albert Einstein and Shinichi Suzuki who happened to form a friendship. It also has the famed Berliner Philharmoniker, perhaps the best orchestra in the world today. The Great Depression affected Germany particularly severely and the orchestra was about to go bankrupt. Wilhelm Furtwängler, following in the footsteps of Hans von Bülow and Arthur Nikisch as the conductor for the orchestra, approached the just-elected Nazi regime and Joseph Göbbels in particular. A deal of Faust and Mephisto was signed and the orchestra became a propaganda tool for the Third Reich. Jewish musicians had to leave, including Szymon Goldberg, the Konzertmeister. Although the old name was kept, the organization was also known as Das Reichsorchester, or was even called Das SS Orchester by some, named after Schutzstaffel, the most terrifying force of the Nazi power structure.

Musicians with only one Jewish parent were allowed to stay, at least for the time being, and Göbbels did not insist on anyone becoming a party member, although about 20 of them did so, some showing up in rehearsals in Nazi uniforms. In contrast, the party membership in the Vienna Philharmonic was much higher, almost a half. We musn't forget that Hitler was Austrian and the country of his birth was proud of him, whereas there were people in Germany, even within the party, who thought of the Führer as an outsider. The orchestra kept on performing throughout the war, even after the bombings had destroyed their concert hall in 1944. Facing the loss of the war and seeing an inevitable change coming, the orchestra finally performed forbidden music by Tchaikovsky and Mendelssohn in a concert in April 1945, just a month before the regime collapsed and the country surrendered.

Nobody at this point talked about the Reichsorchester anymore and the Soviet Red Army which "liberated" and raped Berlin, couldn't have cared less about the SS Orchestra either. They must have given the rights to the name to the Western Allies and it ended up as wartime loot. The Americans in particular were eager to snatch up whatever they could. That is why in this country we commonly call acetylsalicylic acid, or ASA, aspirin although in Europe Aspirin is a trademark of Bayer and only their product can carry that title.

Furtwängler somehow was forgiven for his actions by the Allies and he continued conducting the Berliner Philharmoniker until his death in 1954. Nazism must have still been alive in some circles as Herbert von Karajan was named as his successor. Karajan had been a favorite of Göbbels and had twice applied for membership in the National Socialist Party. During the war he had conducted the orchestra of the state opera. Karajan managed to raise the artistic level of the Philharmonic to new heights, but people did not easily forget his past which tarnished the orchestra's reputation somewhat, especially outside of Germany. He was also strictly against having female musicians in the group, although he was willing to help the likes of Anne-Sofie Mutter reach stardom. She had to act like a good old-fashioned German would, by never showing any emotion physically, not even the tiniest of smile. There are videos of her playing with von Karajan and the lack of expression on her face is almost eerie, as if one is watching a mannequin.

Well, even von Karajan didn't live forever and with his era coming to an end, the "glass jar" was broken, starting with Claudio Abbado in 1989. The greatest changes have taken place under the orchestra's present conductor, Sir Simon Rattle. There are numerous women among the musicians, and although most of the players have been trained in Germany (and thus play incredibly similarly and well together), they come from several countries, even Israel. The number of Asians is small and, unless I'm wrong, they are all Japanese, including one of their three 1. Konzertmeisters. There are no Russians (one was born there but trained elsewhere) although some have come from former Iron Curtain countries. The two principal trumpets are from Hungary and one of the first principal bassists is from my native Finland, as is another one whose title reads just principal. I don't think either of them plays on a plywood bass! Every prominent position is shared which leads to much less burn-out than in a usual orchestra situation and gives the excellent musicians opportunities to play chamber music and teach.

Inspired by the success of the Metropolitan Opera's broadcasts to movie theaters worldwide, the Berlin Philharmonic recently decided to start broadcasting their concerts live via the Internet, for a fee of course. First such concert will take place in about a week. I decided to give my wife and myself a delayed holiday present and for about $130 get to listen and watch in High Definition the rest of the season, plus all the archived concerts from this fall. So far, we only had time for the First Symphony of Brahms and No. 92, the "Oxford", by Haydn. The latter was played with a small chamber orchestra, usually a disaster when such attempts are made with players from large symphony orchestras. Not this one: the first and second violins played immaculately together in spite of being seated on opposite sides of the stage. Of course one must remember that the Berlin Philharmonic Hall has its stage close to the middle of the audience, and the lack of corners amplifying percussion and the brass instruments, such as the horns, take away the dangerous echo-chamber effect. These musicians play as if they are enjoying chamber music. Sir Rattle didn't have to micro-manage his players, in fact much of the time he was just smiling and making motions that didn't resemble a metronome's beat but rather were intended as an inspiration to the musicians. The Brahms was just as exquisite: it is hard to imagine any other orchestra feeling and performing the piece just right. For that the cello and viola sections traded places. The double basses were behind the second violins, the principals in the middle of the section. The cameras are all remote controlled and completely unobtrusive, even difficult to see.

Just listening to and watching the principal flautist of the evening Emmanuel Pahud would have been worth the entire year's subscription fee. What an incredible musician he is! In the Haydn the fastest runs were like child's play. Most of the time Mr. Pahud played with little or no vibrato, with the cleanest sound and intonation, just the way I picture a great flute player doing. Yet in the Brahms in an exposed melody the sweetest vibrato appeared, almost bringing tears to my eyes, and I thought I didn't even like orchestra music! It was interesting to see rotary-valve trumpets being used. Mr. Yasunaga's violin solo was pristine and the audience gave him a well-deserved applause. What a pleasure to look at violinists who all use the same part of the bow and who don't make any unnecessary motions, their leader least of them all. None of the ladies acted like exhibitionists or "eye candy". With many audience members seeing his face, Mr. Rattle couldn't give dirty looks but neither was there any need for them. At the conclusion of the Brahms, the orchestra just stood up, without feeling the need to face the audience with a forced grin. These were all music loving people, not local Madoff-type donors expecting to be bowed down to. What a different experience this was! I can hardly wait to see the orchestra again on my 24-inch hi-def monitor and good sound system. We have the best seats in the house, even when concerts are sold out as they often are, and get to listen to great soloists who don't want to bother with our Homeland Security's ridiculous visa rules and thus often remain unknown to us.

Like our President John F. Kennedy did 45 years ago, I want to stand up and proclaim: "Ich bin ein Berliner".

Das Reichsorchester at Hitler's birthday 1942
Sir Simon Rattle in Berlin ©Stuart Ramson/AP

The Rest Is History

Life is cyclical indeed. Hardly anything happens that hasn't taken place in some form before. We know that the sun spot activity is eleven years, during which time radiation from the center of our solar system reaches it's maximum and minimum. At the time when listening to short wave radio was the only means of keeping information flowing long distance, every ham and DX radio user knew to switch to a different frequency band, depending on the spot activity. The Chinese horoscope is also based on this same eleven years. Other cycles happen more or less frequently, as is the case with climate. Yes, Greenland was tropical at some point and during the Small Ice Age half a millennium ago the Adriatic Sea outside of Venice, Italy, froze every winter and people enjoyed sleigh rides on it. I'm sure people are responsible, at least in part, for the present global warming, mainly because there are far too many of us burning fossil fuels to keep warm, light our cities and towns and for the "need" of often senseless transportation. Still, the atmosphere has had enormous amounts of carbon dioxide in it before, mainly as a result of gigantic uncontrolled forest fires or huge volcanic eruptions. Today, sea levels are rising but there was a time when one could walk from India to Sri Lanka or when Australia was connected to Southeast Asia. The Atlantic broke through the landmass where today's Strait of Gibraltar is and the resulting higher levels of the Mediterranean eventually pushed water into the Black Sea, possibly resulting in the numerous stories of the Great Flood.

We need to know and understand history in order to learn from the distant and not-so-distant past. Humans make a lot of mistakes but we are supposed to learn from them. CNN has been showing a powerful documentary narrated by the amazing Christiane Amanpour, "Screaming Bloody Murder". The Holocaust was never supposed to happen again, yet the world has since then quietly watched other acts of genocide in Cambodia, Rwanda, the Balkans and now in Sudan's western Darfur region. Our financial chaos seems awfully familiar when looking through the history books. Of course, never before have banks and other companies been quite so global, thus the suffering today has spread much faster than would have been possible a century ago. But the threats are the same with recession, depression, hyperinflation, you name it. There are no real winners in any war but people still manage to fight them daily on every continent other than Antarctica. Perhaps if everyone were well versed in historical facts, fewer tragic and avoidable mistakes would be made.

Even the arts world has its own cycles. My father didn't become a professional musician because at the time one couldn't really make a living playing an instrument. The few full-time musicians played in restaurants, cinemas and even on the street. Most often they were people who hadn't succeeded in anything else and lived miserable lives. Of course music was loved by people and the day's pop artists were classical stars, such as Caruso. After WW II it all of a sudden became possible to earn a livelihood in music, either teaching in a conservatory or playing in an orchestra, or a combination of both. More top musicians even succeeded as soloists. This change must have influenced my father's thinking as it certainly did my mother-in-law's. My wife and I were destined to play the violin, we were told. They both lived through our careers.

In the last ten to twenty years the musical bubble grew and now it has to burst as all bubbles eventually do. Twenty years ago it was still relatively easy to land a position in a decent orchestra. I have been in many auditions where people got jobs with relatively poor playing skills. Today the scene is different as the prestigious music schools produce far too many excellent instrumentalists. The salaries in the top orchestras and even in some regional ones are too high to maintain. In contrast, many music schools, even respectable ones such as Manhattan, pay ridiculously little to their faculty although they charge an arm and a leg from the students. So, for purely financial reasons musicians trained to be soloists end up in the few top orchestras, just to become miserable having to play every phrase differently from what their souls tell them. Today we learn almost daily about art organizations having to downsize, shorten their seasons or disappear entirely. It doesn't make the headlines because the news is so grim all over, but the fact that it is hidden makes the general audience unaware of the crisis and less likely to rush to the aid. The now popular $1 CEO salary for music directors would help; instead of stock options they could get the rest of their compensation in free tickets.

I make sure that every serious student of mine gets exposed to violin playing of the past. My teacher in Finland had an enormous collection of old 78s which he let me take home and transfer to tape. In the process I even learned early on how to filter out some of the scratchiness and other surface noise. Today much of the previously unavailable material has been reissued in digital format and it is easy to hear how music was played and interpreted a hundred, eighty or just fifty years ago. Most students are surprised or even shocked to hear how vibrato is almost absent in the very early recordings, circa 1900. But Bach played in that manner sounds almost modern, especially when compared to the style a few decades later.

The big change, of course, came with the beloved Austrian, Fritz Kreisler. He basically invented playing with constant vibrato and developed a sound and style that hasn't been matched since. His life provides an example for today's young violinists. Although he was a prodigy, Kreisler almost didn't become a musician. After failing to get into the Vienna Opera Orchestra's second violin section (those days their musicians must have been quite awful and couldn't stand the idea of someone truly remarkable joining their ranks), he studied medicine and law and even fought as an officer in the Great War, also known as the First World War. Someone must have been very persistent in managing to change Kreisler's mind. Had that not happened, we would have missed one of the musical giants of our time. It is interesting to hear the many recordings he made over the decades, playing the same little gems completely differently each time. One can easily hear that the later fingerings don't match earlier ones; neither do the phrasings or tempi. Nothing bears much resemblance to what is on the printed page: those markings were there to fool the average fiddler to think that he now knew the secret to Kreisler's sound and style. Let's hope that the cycle in great violin playing isn't too long and that we'll one day hear another Fritz.

Those Austrians are an interesting people. For every great artist the country has also had a real monster, from Hitler to the sick father who imprisoned his daughter in his cellar for decades, fathering her children. Perhaps it is no coincidence that the country still celebrates an ancient evil god Krampus at Christmastime. I can easily imagine one wielding a stick.

"Krampus " © Reuters / Der Spiegel

Fritz Kreisler album cover by Ilkka Talvi

Can the Empire Strike Back?

We live in extraordinary times. Just a few months back few could imagine that the Capitalist Heaven majority of us were so proud of would no longer be. The sky-high oil prices in the summer were a bad omen. Prices of everything went up as a result and the U.S. dollar, to which crude oil prices are pegged, kept on losing its value on a daily basis. Then Wall Street collapsed with almost no advance warning and people saw the value of their investments plummet. Millions have lost their homes and/or jobs, and with the latter, health insurances. Illegal immigrants from Mexico and other Latin American countries are packing their bags and heading home. The land of gold has become the country of fool's gold. The bailout money meant to help ordinary people has vanished and nobody seems to have benefited from it, other than big banks and other financial institutions. Sure, the fuel prices are down to a third from less than six month ago and the greenback has increased its value, compared to the euro and sterling. But this also means that people don't feel the same urge to buy their new hybrid or any other fuel-efficient car. There used to be a waiting list for the Prius; now they are filling the free space around harbors such as Long Beach which have been turned into parking lots for unsold vehicles. Not that many could find financing at present for such major purchases.

It is at times like today when people realize what a nonexistent safety net Americans have. We fear the word "socialism" above all, yet we are envious of the way people are taken care of in most other Western democracies. Yes, those countries are also suffering in the global crisis, but cutting back in what amounts to basic human rights to them, such as free or almost free education and healthcare, is not an option. It is often argued that we cannot afford to pay for universal health insurance. That is probably true, although the money spent on unnecessary and insane wars on the other side of the globe or in these bailouts would easily cover that. The United States spends more per capita on health care than any other country, yet we have precious little to show for it. How do they manage in places like Scandinavia? Simple: there is no health insurance. A medical expense occurs only when a person gets sick and the government pays for the hospitals and health centers directly. A healthy individual is not an expense, except when he occasionally visits the clinic for preventive care. When you eliminate the greedy insurance companies, which are there to fatten the pockets of their stockholders, but not to serve, you save a lot of money. A hospital there is not expected to make a profit. Even the private doctors outside of the public system are reasonable as it is almost impossible to file successful malpractice lawsuits or the rare awards are minimal. Granted, no system is ideal, but even if one has to wait for elective surgery at times, everyone is taken care of. Sick people don't die on stretchers as is increasingly common in American emergency rooms. Infant mortality rate in my native Finland is half of our country.

Young people back home complain that they are not paid enough for studying in a university or other institution of higher education. What a strange concept: instead of bankrupting one's parents or having to pay back student loans for decades, people are actually paid to go to school. Same is true when raising a family. Mothers get a monthly tax-free payment per each child which goes up with more children. Unemployment, never a pleasant situation, is tolerable as benefits are decent and don't expire in a few months like here. The system is actively looking for a new job for you. People can actually retire and they don't have to worry about their final years. Of course, the downside of this cradle-to-grave system is that people don't feel the urge to save. In essence they already do that by paying high taxes.

Americans often like to think of their country being built on Christian principles and values. Many would like to bring mandatory prayer back to our schools and make teaching evolution optional, even illegal, along with other sciences. Everyone can see that the Earth is flat and the sun and the starts circulate it, right? Many want to accept every word of the Bible as literal truth, no questions asked. In this context it baffles me how the teachings of Jesus have been modified to serve capitalism. Wasn't Christ really very much of a socialist, or a religious communist, who believed in taking care of the less fortunate, the poor and sick, the outcasts? Europeans may have forgotten to attend church services but at least they believe in the principles the New Testament teaches.

The majority of Americans clearly want to see a change taking place here as otherwise they wouldn't have voted for Mr. Obama last month. I don't envy him: the empire he's inheriting is in terrible shape. He'll either fail to get us back on our feet or he'll succeed; in either case I'm sure he will have tried his best. Unlike most other politicians, he doesn't seem to have skeletons in his closet. The forces opposing him must have turned over every stone looking for dirt. Accusations of being a Muslim (would that be a crime?), having a middle name Hussein or "flirting with terrorists" didn't have the effect on voters the slimy opposition campaign had hoped for. For the first time in decades we'll have an honest person in the Oval Office with our country's best interests in mind. But an easy job he won't have. At least he seems to have surrounded himself with smart individuals. Some fear that his choices for cabinet posts include people with too big egos; perhaps he'll be able to control most of them if not all. In any case, USA is no longer a swear word across the globe. With Mr. Obama the world sees hope for peace again.

Who knows, like the phoenix bird from its red egg, this empire may rise again. One thing is for sure: life here isn't going to be the same as it was before. In order to survive we must be prepared for major changes.

Firebird photo Ilkka Talvi

Holy Mo

It is no coincidence that many musical audition processes choose to hear a bit of Mozart and another bit of Bach. I could claim that after hearing a few minutes of each I pretty well know how a person plays, or at least how musical the individual is. Naturally, there are other composers whose compositions are better suited to show off fireworks but the musical, or artistic, content of a Bazzini virtuoso piece is relatively empty fluff. There are works where 80% rate in correct notes and intonation is sufficient but with these two giants it is all or nothing.

Johann Sebastian's genius seldom opens up to a young person. I have heard numerous absolutely awful interpretations of sonata and partita movements for solo violin, performed by otherwise capable wunderkinder. Even my first teacher Arno Granroth, a pupil of Thibaud, got almost nothing out of Bach. Luckily I had an opportunity to study those works with others, especially Ricardo Odnoposoff, who had an incredible understanding of the architecture of the composer's works. All of a sudden I clearly saw where the sometimes little motives started and ended, and learned to look for polyphony written for a single four-stringed instrument, as if it were an organ. I still discover new things, or possible options, wherever I play or teach these works. Even the great Jascha Heifetz seems to be often at a loss as how to interpret Bach and speeds the movements up, perhaps to cover up this uncomfortable feeling.

Wolfgang Amadeus doesn't necessarily call for an overly analytical interpretation, of course depending on the work. Sometimes one hears an incredible performance of a concerto by a mere child or youngster. Such an innocent soul hears the music as it was intended to play. At the other extreme is an orchestra conductor whose parts are so full of most artificial markings it is difficult to see the notes. Mozart was not a complicated person. You either get his music or you don't. Just the other day a new student played the first movement of a concerto of his, for the first time but with astonishingly natural phrasing. I really like this song! she declared. Mozart was blessed with very rare musical genius and at his best he could compose masterpieces without thinking. He was also a cursed individual with almost uncivilized tendencies, although having grown up entertaining aristocrats and royalty, one would assume he should have known what proper behavior and etiquette called for. Many have labeled him as a victim of Tourette's and numerous other diagnoses have been made centuries later, to explain the paradox between his heavenly compositional skills and outright rude style of writing in his letters.

Mozart wrote his great Sonata in D for two pianos for a supposedly brilliant Josepha von Auernhammer. The composer was not exactly eye-candy himself but yet he used these words to describe his patron: If a painter wished to portray the devil to the life, he would have to choose her face! She is as fat as a farm wench, she sweats so that you want to vomit, and goes about so scantily clad that you can read as plain as print, 'Pray do look here.' True, there is enough to see; in fact enough to strike one blind – but one is punished for the rest of the day if one is unlucky to let one's eyes wander in that direction. Tartar is the only remedy, she is so horrible, so loathsome and so dirty! Augh, she is a very fright!

It is hard to imagine that someone capable of writing such heavenly music could at the same time be so crude. Perhaps aspects of this tendency sometimes transfer to compositions as well, such as in the dark moments of Don Giovanni or the less-than-delicate "Turkish" part in the Finale of the A major violin concerto. Like so many other musical greats, such as Mendelssohn and Schubert, Mozart met with an untimely death and thus it is even harder for us to understand what made him 'tick.'

There is one piece of music, mostly by Mozart's hand, that I either love or deeply dislike. I am of course talking about the Requiem which was finished by someone else. It is as if there are two versions of the Mass for the Dead: one for Christ, the other Antichrist. Most performances during my life have been of the latter variety, bombastic, with no understanding of the sacred content behind it; a blasphemy if you want to call it that. Then there are those magic moments when the Requiem is done in the proper form, as a part of a Mass, by people who know the work inside out. Every minute detail's meaning is clear and the performance is so full of spiritualism that even an agnostic or an atheist finds himself floating half way between Earth and Heaven. I have experienced this on different continents over the years but of course the strongest association is the most recent one right here at St. James Cathedral just two weeks ago, for their All Souls Requiem. This was my third year being part of it and every year the experience and musical level seems to ascend to new heights. It is simply astonishing that a local congregation with its own choral and soloists can create something so splendid. Word gets around: no wonder the mighty cathedral had standing room only for the last half hour before the start.

There are a few times when I have to think like a Catholic. My grandfather's favorite books, and thus mine, were about a post-war Italian priest Don Camillo and the little town's communist mayor Peppone, as told by Giuseppe Guareschi. The stories can only be fully appreciated when the reader becomes a simple witness of unfolding events in the valley of River Po. Living utterly alone as a teenager in Vienna and in Paris, visiting their magnificent cathedrals brought me inner peace. I don't think I've ever been to New York without a trip to St. Patrick's, although at times it resembles a sight-seeing destination for tourists. But being and working with the nice and genuinely loving people at St. James is probably the most meaningful of all at this time of my life. Father Ryan's wise words and the musical accomplishments of Jim Savage and his troops keep any Antichrist far away, at least well over on the other side of the freeway.

Mozart 1790 by Johann Georg Edlinger
All Souls 2008 © St. James Cathedral

Legacies

Today's Guardian.co.uk hails us from the United Kingdom with an article, an Editor's pick (George Bush Culture vulture?) about Bush's cultural legacy. Twelve prominent Americans give their verdict on our lame duck President's impact on the artistic life of our country. It makes a sad read: the only positive point made is the rise of political satire as an art form. True: Bill Maher, Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert have all had a heyday at the expense of Dubya and his Dick. The Guardian story pretty well tells what the rest of the world thinks of us. Yes, there are many Americans who feel that only we and our opinions matter, but in an increasingly global society nothing could be farther from the truth. Before his death, Albania's dictator Enver Hoxha also told his people that the rest of the world was evil and filled the isolated small country with enough nuclear-attack-proof bunkers for everyone. Today's North Korea is similar. The only radios available are permanently tuned to a government station frequency. Officially South Korea is a poor and backward country. It isn't until recently that smuggled receivers from China have enabled people to tune in to South Korean stations. Also, as the southern neighbors dumped their VCRs for new DVD players, the old machines have found their way to the north, along with music videos and such which show the "chosen" people a very different picture of the outside world.

Yesterday's web news reminded us about a near-death experience of Ronald Reagan in 1976. He was campaigning, unsuccessfully, for his party's presidential nomination when a peanut got stuck in his airway while on board of his plane. Only a quick reaction by his aide saved his life with the Heimlich maneuver. History might have unfolded very differently without Reaganomics. One could argue that there wouldn't have been the present economic crisis as the craze for deregulation wouldn't have taken place. Who knows, perhaps this country would still be considered great in the eyes of "the others". Never underestimate the power of the little peanut: the same year a peanut farmer Jimmy Carter won the presidential election. Although later unpopular as president, mainly for reasons beyond his control, Carter went on to become a great humanitarian and statesman, winning the Nobel Peace Prize. He is rightfully considered one of our most successful ex-presidents. A similar story comes from my native Finland where Matti Ahtisaari received this year's Nobel Peace Prize for decades of successful diplomacy for the United Nations, being responsible for the independence of Namibia and negotiating peace treaties in Indonesia and Kosovo, among other places. Yet, as a Finnish President, Mr. Ahtisaari was not particularly well liked.

Many people still think of the Reagan years with nostalgia. However, have we forgotten that already by the time the former actor took office, Alzheimer's must have already started to manifest its terrifying symptoms? It is said that during much of his second term his wife, the First Lady Nancy Reagan was running the show. True to her California lifestyle, astrologers and other fortune tellers were employed in the decision making progress. Having a real senior citizen in charge of a country is a gamble: on one hand the person may have more wisdom than someone younger but on the other, physical and mental health issues are going to pop up. John F Kennedy was only in his forties in 1960 but was wise beyond his years. He also had the ability to look into the future and care about it, something that is not often in the mind of a person with one foot already in the grave.

A public figure's legacy often depends on when he or she has the foresight to step down. Nobody forces a sitting President to run for a second term. A positive legacy can quickly turn to a very negative one. Same is true in every area of life. Perhaps Bill Gates will be remembered as a great philanthropist rather than the co-founder of Microsoft. His foundation has already done remarkable humanitarian work all over the globe. Such deeds will not be forgotten but the software company might well be history in years to come. A director of an arts organization could be remembered with fondness for his/her accomplishment, or with bitterness and hatred. At least with presidency we have term limits. How welcomed they would be in other positions of leadership!

We have an interesting election ahead of us. If Mr. Obama were white, the outcome would be clear and even the Supreme Court could do nothing about it. But the Klan is still alive, even if less well than in the past, and racism will no doubt play a part. Interestingly Mr. Obama is not embraced by all African-Americans, the reason being that he doesn't decent from slaves, and thus mainly West African tribes, but is half East African having his father's roots in Kenya. To the white supremacists none of this of course matters. It is amazing how many of us have a little Hitler, Stalin or Klansman in our souls. A miracle took place 48 years ago when we elected a Catholic as our President. Perhaps it is time for another miracle now, and who knows, one day we might even elect a Jewish person to the Oval Office.

It is time to choose between Gloom and Bloom. One might say Doom and Boom, but domestically the latter will take time, and presently can only be heard in explosions of Iraq and Afghanistan.

Dictators and Art

Josef Stalin, everyone's favorite Georgian, as a teenager studied in a seminary in order to become a priest. He was also busy writing romantic poetry, an image not usually associated with someone better known as a brutal dictator and a mass murderer. The following is from "Morning", published in Kvali, an intellectual magazine:

The pinkish bud has opened,
Rushing to the pale-blue violet
And, stirred by a light breeze,
The lily of the valley has bent over the grass.

The young Yoseb Dzughashvili was a rising star as a poet but then switched his focus to revolutionary Marxism. He still continued to write essays and prose, never letting a ghost writer touch his texts. A supporter of Maxim Gorki, Stalin was well educated in literature, in spite of a lack of formal university education. The fact that he wasn't of the same intellectual background made Leon Trotsky mistrust the Georgian. This feeling was obviously mutual as Trotsky quickly learned and later paid for it with his life in Mexico.

Adolf Hitler, another bloody dictator, also wanted to be an artist, painting with water colors. His literary accomplishments didn't quite match Stalin's, but Uncle Adolf didn't need help with spelling when he wrote Mein Kampf during his time in prison. To Hitler's credit we must admit that his range of interest in the arts was quite extensive and included architecture and music. Every Richard Wagner lover must have a bit of Hitler in him or her as the composer's music was made the official sound of the Third Reich. Without that support Wagner's ever-so-long operas might have remained in the curiosity closet. Yes, the Nazi regime also had Richard Strauss, but his fame and position paled in comparison to the great Aryan hero. Hitler made sure that all of Josef Joachim's editions of Mozart and other composers also disappeared from the vast empire of the Reich. The father of serious violin playing was born and raised as a Christian but he had Jewish ancestry in his background. I have seen some quite amazing cadenzas replacing those of Joachim's for Mozart's violin concertos, published in Nazi Germany. The person put in charge of this editing was no other than Hans Joachim Moser, the son of Joachim's student and best friend Andreas Moser.

Vladimir Lenin didn't care for the arts. It is said that he visited a theater only a few times and even then because he had to. However, he was responsible for saving the Bolshoi Ballet. Not that Lenin loved ballet and the art form, but he understood what a tremendous propaganda asset he and the Communist Party had in the company. After his death, the same way of thinking continued in the Soviet Union, with an added twist. Whenever a high ranking party official was in the audience and fancied a particular ballerina, there was a little wink after the performance and the young lady with long legs knew what her duties were. When the German army was closing in on Moscow, the entire Bolshoi was put on a big river boat and off they sailed to safety on the Moskva and Volga rivers.

I haven't read enough about another henchman, Mao Zedong, to know of his connection to the arts. However, with the Communist revolution anything Western became a sin against the system. This of course reached its climax during the Cultural Revolution which was orchestrated in part by Mao's last wife Jian Qing. For example, a splendid Chinese pianist of international statute whom I heard in my childhood, related by marriage to Menuhin, committed suicide after his fingers were systematically broken by the Red Guards, with well-aimed hammer blows. A bizarre historical fact is that Beijing had a functioning symphony orchestra during this madness, obviously for the same reason the Soviet Union had its Bolshoi: propaganda. The musicians even wore tails, the only ones in China, when everyone else had to dress in their grey uniforms. Anything is acceptable in the name of a good show.

Not every budding artist can become a powerful political leader but many try to reach a position of dictatorship in their little world. As a rule of thumb, the less talented such a person is, the greater the urge to be in charge. Of course this is true as well in other fields than the arts. Incompetent people become our leaders while the capable and smart ones hide in the background. The propaganda machinery works hard to make these individuals look like something special, be it a politician or a musician. Usually truth is of no value and can't be seen from the jungle of lies. History will eventually tell us the true state of affairs, but by then it is too late. A little miserable newspaper reporter or critic in the media with a soul of a scorpion can pretend to run a town's public opinion, to the benefit of others like him, his soul brothers and sisters. With this help a truly inferior baton wielder or "soloist" can broadcast that he/she is in high demand and sought after worldwide. Cucamonga is not London or even Liverpool, but to these people it is the center of the world and they like to make the townspeople believe just that.

Yes, Stalin and Hitler have had many secret admirers who have wanted to emulate them, living among us. Destroying other people's lives is fun after all, isn't it? What separates the wannabe dictators from the real ones? It seems like the successful ones were much better orators and could actually write coherent sentences, without the help of others. One thing these little monsters have in common with the big ones: they all expect their protégés to be available to fulfill their fantasies, just like the Bolshoi ballerinas did. Perhaps the willing ones see this as the only way to be promoted, be it a dancer, writer, musician, or just an intern. Wink, wink.

"Ghost of Stalin writing" collage by Ilkka Talvi

Honey, What Happened To Our Money?

Greed and gambling go hand in hand. Money in the form of profit-making has long been de facto god for Americans and denizens of most market economies. Of course this is nothing new: a century or so ago a German sociologist, Georg Simmel, warned about this and criticized banks for being more powerful than the church, already back then. A couple decades later we had a global collapse and the Great Depression. Lessons from that seem to have been forgotten as people don't like to learn from past mistakes, such as wars. Once we were back on our feet, we came up with the American Dream and expected the world to follow in this ideology. We have promoted our value system heavily around the globe and now that we have ended up with the American Nightmare, everyone is suffering.

Gambling is said to be very addictive. I don't take part in it so my knowledge comes only from observing others. The higher the stakes, the more thrilling it becomes, ultimately leading to a catastrophe. Karl Marx wrote: Capital is as terrified of the absence of profit or a very small profit as nature is of a vacuum. With suitable profits, capital is awakened; with 10 percent, it can be used anywhere; with 20 percent, it becomes lively; with 50 percent, positively daring; with 100 percent, it will crush all human laws under its feet; and with 300 percent, there is no crime it is not willing to dare, even at the risk of the gallows. This is true except that in this society of ours the greedy CEOs and others behind this mess are forgiven, even applauded for their efforts. Only in China would they perhaps be executed, as the Chinese tend to do that with people in power who fail.

This administration will no doubt be remembered for its failures as one of the worst ever. People can only blame themselves for naively believing in lies during the past elections and voting the way they did, or for not voting at all. From having a surplus, our balance sheet is now so much in the red that our grandchildren will still be paying for the debt, unless they all are in a poorhouse. The next president will have an almost impossible task of trying to normalize life in America, a job not to be envied. It is not very reassuring that one of the candidates is a lifelong gambler who is still known to frequent casinos for his favorite pastime. We've already had eight years of gambling which has bankrupted the nation. We are horrified by the thought of socialized health care, yet at the same time we are ready to socialize Wall Street and the financial sector for the benefit of the really-well-to-do. Something is thoroughly wrong with this picture. Much good did the almost-a-trillion-dollar bailout do: the market has taken a turn for the worse in the days after, and not just here but globally. Today we learned that after the insurance giant AIG secured their $85 billion bailout package, the company's executives went on a $443,000 retreat in California. Another uplifting news item: our country's retirement plans have lost $2 trillion in value.

Nowhere has imitating the American financial model backfired worse than in Iceland. Just a year ago, the country with a population of only three hundred thousand was often mentioned as a bright star of global economy, and even promoted as the "best" country to live in. Mainly American-trained young financial "geniuses" decided more than a decade ago that time had come to make Iceland an important financial center. The small nation's banks and investment firms opened branches in many other countries, expanding with the help of borrowed capital. In my native Finland these banks promised a higher interest rate for savings than national banks and lured a great number of people to become their customers. Although they never were a major player in the U.S., Icelandic banks took a much bigger role in the United Kingdom. 200,000 people in that country have to fight for their money after the collapse of Icesave, an extension of Landsbanki which has gone into receivership. Icesave also has Dutch customers. Of the Icelandic banks, only the largest, Kaupthing, might be able to survive. Interestingly the western powers decided not to help their tiny ally in the North Atlantic, close to Greenland, and Iceland's government had to turn to Russia for help, in form of an emergency loan. Knowing that the nation has weathered difficult times in the past, often caused by natural disasters, they have always managed to survive and will do so again, even if life for some years will suddenly be much harder. We would have a much more difficult time in coping with a disaster of that magnitude. Katrina's ripples are still being felt and yet the hurricane destroyed only one city, not an entire country.

No doubt, the non-profits will suffer a great deal from the mess in the United States. It is hard to imagine people willing to donate to any such cause at this time. Food banks are running low and shelters have to turn many needy away. Those organizations that exist in order to entertain audiences better be prepared for a long winter. There are stories of empty auditoriums all around, and I don't see why going to an opera or ballet performance, or a concert, would get priority today in people's lives. Perhaps that part of American life has also come to an end as we have known it, or it will take enormous sacrifices from the part of people working for such enterprises or leading them. It is time for people to come down from their ivory towers. The sense of entitlement they have is as real as the housing bubble, after all. I feel sympathy for the hard-working person who has lost or is in danger of losing his or her home, rather than for a self-glorified snob.

Before you go to the polls, watch the video of a vice-presidential candidate playing the flute if you haven't already done so. The skill level shown should satisfy the spousal criteria for a right-wing orchestra conductor.

More Innocent Blood

Yesterday my shocked countrymen learned of yet another bloody school shooting within a year. This time a young man of 22 entered his classroom in a small vocational college, in an equally small town, Kauhajoki. With a legally purchased handgun he shot ten students plus the teacher to death, then started a fire in the classroom that has made identifying the victims difficult. Finally when the police and firemen arrived, he turned the gun to himself, after shooting at them first unsuccessfully. This was in an eerie way a copycat act of a high school shooting late last year in another small town, Jokela, where eight people died; even the weapon used was identical.

Finland has the world’s third highest gun ownership, after the U.S. and Yemen. The reasons are quite different from here: with the vast forest-covered land hunting is very popular. Most weapons are indeed hunting rifles and shotguns; handguns are more rare and usually found in shooting ranges and concealed pistols for self-defense are not allowed. In this case, however, the young man had been granted permission to purchase and use a handgun just last month, his first firearm. People had been alarmed by videos made my Mr. Saari on YouTube and notified the authorities. The shooter was actually interviewed by the local police just the day before, but no reason to revoke his license was found, in spite of a type of candle associated with death, funerals and cemeteries found lit on the school yard a couple days prior.

Today people are asking why this was allowed to happen with all the warning signs. There is a lot of finger-pointing, at the policeman who interviewed the killer, letting him go, and at the government minister who had promised a change after the killings of last year. Typical to politics here and there, such promises seldom count. In spite of the high scores that prove Finnish children are better educated than their counterparts in other countries (South Korea is their main rival), obviously the emotional well-being among the young people doesn’t rank as high. The Finns resemble in some ways Native Americans with their troubles. Neither hold their liquor very well and although my countrymen do financially very well, this success has resulted in unhappiness and problematic mental issues. Back when life was simpler, it was also healthier emotionally.

Unlike in the U.S., Finland’s constitution doesn’t guarantee the right to bear arms. Nevertheless, they are commonplace and lethal as guns always are. There is no powerful Finnish NRA lobby but the culture of owning a firearm goes back a long time. Even in my youth the priest and organist of the town’s main church were avid hunters.

The sign of changed times was evident in the news coverage of the country’s leading daily. They pointed out how this tragedy had placed Finland in the global headlines and almost bragged that it was item number two in France, right after the American financial chaos. Had they checked the BBC news on the web, it was actually the first one. However, it is perverted to be proud of such publicity. Helsingin Sanomat used to be a most respectable publication; in recent times more and more people see their journalism resembling British tabloids. They also publish an afternoon paper (available in the morning) which totally falls in the latter category. Attitude of the press has changed as it has here, and neutral, trustworthy news coverage in difficult to find.

What an interesting language Finnish is: the word for attitude is “asenne” which comes from the root “ase”, meaning a weapon.

At least hunting over there, with dogs leading the way in the thick of a forest, can be considered a sport. Shooting helpless wolves from a helicopter hardly qualifies as such. It would only be fair if the helicopter one day crashed in the snowy wilderness and the pack of wolves turned from hunted into hunters, dreaming of a tasty meal, lipstick and all.

MIKSI (WHY), headline in the Ilta-Sanomat extra

Sweetest Sixteen

One realizes he/she is getting old when the youngest child reaches early adulthood. There is a 22-year spread between my four daughters, enough years between each of them to have seen them grow up without being in another one's shadow. I'm proud to say that they all are high achievers but also more importantly great human beings. One's success in life isn't measured in material wealth or power but in the way one's children are. In this regard I'm among the most successful on the planet.

The youngest of them and the only one still home, Sarah, turned sixteen yesterday. In many ways I feel a unique closeness to her as she resembles how I was then, except in a greatly improved version. We share our values, our love for music, and our compassion for others. She is the only one who has ever been able to beat me in a Finnish card game that even my incredibly smart mother refused to play with me. Sarah thinks very similarly to me and anticipates my unorthodox moves; often I'm dumbfounded when she ends up victorious even when I have had a better hand and clearly should have won. But she also has the warmest heart of anyone: her love knows no bounds. To borrow the line at the end of Goonies: she is my best invention.

Last night I saw this poem on a large poster for her humanities class and with Sarah's permission publish it here:

I Am From My Sense of Belonging

I am from Mother Earth,
Born from her beautiful belly
In allegros and minuets
A melody in
Eb major.

I am from cultures intertwined,
Finnish vodka
Jewish wine
And a drop of mystery
Middle Eastern moonshine.

I am from Frida Kahlo,
Not knowing my insecurities
Would stem from every
Hair follicle;
But I am from Sisu,
My sisters of strength, and
Depth, and
Stubborn intelligence that lurks
Beneath dark curls.

I am from happiness,
Reverberating on the peripheral
Of my vision;
The sun melting on the playground,
The scent of a mowed lawn
And woodchips
Inviting through an open window.

I am from an introvert,
The coffee-sipping dragon
Who shares with me his shy
And sensitivity,
I am from a heart that thumps
Empathy.

I am from Rugrats and grape popsicles,
From rollerblading to
Slip'n slides,
From the friendships of
Satu and Hilary.

I am from my sense of belonging,
The address I could repeat
A thousand times over
From memory,
I am from home.

By Sarah Talvi

Escapes

Listening to Hector Berlioz' Symphonie fantastique on a Philips recording of Orchestre Révolutionnaire et Romantique with John Eliot Gardiner conducting is eye-opening. In general I am not a great fan of so-called authentic performances, not because I prefer modern style to the old, but simply due to the fact that so many mediocre musicians have seen an opportunity to become experts overnight in that venue. A bad and unsuccessful actor doesn't just start doing Shakespeare and receive instant recognition. That skill takes years and years of dedicated labor; the same is true with learning to master performance practices of centuries ago. However, this recording shows the colorful palette Berlioz invented by using instruments supposedly similar to those available in 1830. In this case the musicians play too well: that degree of technical capability in an orchestra musician simply didn't exist for over a hundred years. The breakneck tempi so perfectly executed would not have occurred back then except in the composer's mind.

Ah, the composer's mind. This long composition is often seen as a tribute to opium and hallucinogenic drugs in general. In the 19th century such substances were far more accepted than today; in fact most creative artists were regular users and were not in legal danger for that. Wine was often laced with opium, and later cocaine, and praised as being healthy. I can think of a conductor or two today whose unimaginitive interpretations might greatly benefit from this type of new insight. A well-known fact is that late in that century Bayer in Germany decided to forego aspirin in favor of the drug with more potential, heroin. After all, pain relief was immediate with the latter and the lift in one's mood as well. Heroin seemed like the ideal answer to the day's quest for perfect drug. It wasn't until later when society turned against all drugs, including alcohol, and passed laws of prohibition. In case of alcohol, these were eventually overturned, but the rest of now illegal drugs remained as such. It is interesting that in this country such drug use is at an all-time high and surpasses the usage in other countries. Actually a liberal-minded country, Holland, doesn't seem to score high at all, even though marijuana is available legally and other substances are generally tolerated. In America the usage is high in spite of the law enforcement concentrating their efforts in catching drug users and dealers and sending them to prisons. Ordinary criminals such as burglars can practice their trade in peace these days. Only the clumsiest and dumbest of them have a chance of getting caught.

The present economic downturn and lack of coverage for basic needs causes many to search for an escape from reality. I can't really blame them. Taking care of what is grossly wrong in this society would be far more humane, and for that matter cost effective for the taxpayer, than sending these unhappy and miserable people to jail. The upcoming elections don't promise much of change. As one foreign-born parent of a student said, the election at this point resembles television's American Idol. Nobody cares about real values and desire to change things for the better. Instead the country seems fascinated by a former beauty queen whose ideals regarding a woman's rights are from medieval ages. Even pregnant Ashkenazy Jews test their fetuses for Tay-Sachs disease routinely; this one candidate would encourage every premenopausal woman to get pregnant, never mind what cost to society the resulting Down syndrome children would be. Caring for a developmentally challenged child is a mighty big task and takes most of a caregiver's available time. Yes, there are wonderful parents with disabled children who make sure that the quality of life for them is good. However, I fail to see this person in question in that camp, knowing that such caring is a full-time job and keeping in mind her track record with raising children.

We are not the only country in trouble financially. Europe is hard-hit, from Iceland to Spain. Italy's Berlusconi is more preoccupied with passing laws that would protect him from the many lawsuits against him than helping the struggling country get back up to its feet. Yet people elected him to office again, probably thinking that the richest man in the country will make everyone a winner. Today's news from home tells about big cuts in Finland's paper and pulp mills. The two big multi-national companies will reduce their work force by about five thousand, closing sites where the factory has been a town's main employer. At least people there are covered to an extent with benefits Americans can only dream about. Still, a lot of people are going to have a hard time, both financially and emotionally. Everything has gone up in price due to inflation and in a system where people are not used to saving for a rainy day, every cut hurts, no matter how little. For someone in their fifties learning a totally new skill is almost impossible, and in a system that forces a retirement in the mid 60s, prospects of finding employment at such an age are next to nil. The reason for such drastic cuts in a country of little over five million is same as here: pleasing stockowners in our global economy. No one seems to care about the human cost. It is no wonder many of these laid-off people will turn to escaping reality. There the drug of choice is alcohol, especially for someone middle-aged. Perhaps they would have been better off in the 1800s France, being able to take a voyage fantastique as described by Berlioz.

I may be unfortunate in not knowing what pleasures would await me in the parallel existence. Not being in control of my thoughts and actions is an unpleasant prospect and will keep me on this side of the law. Falling into a ditch at a great-uncle's birthday party when I was seven was enough to scare me for life. The moonlight-spiked malt beverage given to a small thirsty boy was potent indeed. Even "harmless" Ambien caused me to remain stuck in a screen saver for hours. Although it was interesting to run around the kangaroo on the screen and hide in the forest behind it, I decided that it was far too dangerous a substance to help with sleep problems. Perhaps if I were a composer in the class of modern-day Berlioz, I could write a Symphonie zolpidem and eventually become immortal.

Fantastic Symphony by Harvey Dunn

Les-Pieds-Sont-Nous / Feet-R-Us

Late in July I decided to take a couple days off and head up north to our bilingual neighbor Canada with our 15-year-old pride and joy. It had been two years since our last visit to Victoria together and those pleasant memories were still vivid in our minds.

It was obvious that slow economy is affecting life even there. At the height of the tourist season the Victoria Clipper is usually quite full; now the fast and comfortable catamaran was perhaps one-third occupied. Our check-in time at the Chateau Victoria was 3 p.m. but when we arrived with our luggage around 10 to drop them off, we were told that our room was available. Naturally this was an indication that bookings were not at their usual level. A few times I overheard locals telling that this has been the quietest summer they can remember. Yankees usually amount to a majority of visitors to British Columbia, but Canada is no longer as cheap as it used to be and many people here have more urgent financial obligations than taking vacations. We heard German spoken occasionally but bumping into a Québécois happened far more often. As Victoria has a very British feel to the city, it was as if the French were visiting old England again.

Time after time my daughter remarked how nice people were, polite and caring. Canada may not be a paradise as no place is, but it surely seems to have fewer issues than this country. Walking back from a wonderful Japanese dinner, we discovered a needle drop-off receptacle on a utility pole. Sarah had never seen one and I had to quickly explain it to her. She thought it was a remarkable and advanced idea and I wholeheartedly agreed. An I.V. drug user is going to have his/her needles and in this society of ours has to hide the used ones in a pocket. Emergency workers know that this presents a hazard to them as they often have been injured by a sharp tip, leading to potentially terrible infections of AIDS and hepatitis.

For the past two years walking has been a pain for me, literally. My feet are either numb or overly sensitive and most of the time I feel like there are big blisters on the soles or perhaps rocks in my shoes. I have to rely on visual input to know that I am standing upright. Quite a few times I have tried to walk in the dark and taken bad falls; nowadays I remember to first switch on the light first. There in Victoria I was resting on my bed in the hotel and my daughter was snapping her toes, something we used to do together when she was little. I looked at my own toes in sadness because they wouldn’t obey my will and remained stiff. After hours of torturous walking it became clear to me that the medical advice and drugs prescribed by the neurologist weren’t doing me any good and I decided to benefit from logical thinking I’ve been blessed – or cursed – with. After all, I am supposed to be smarter than those doctors and also capable of thinking outside the box.

So, upon returning home I dug deep in all the information I could find on the internet and also studied the anatomy of the feet in great detail. I learned all about tarsal tunnels and other possible trouble spots where nerves could be compressed. For the next days and weeks I have been experimenting with somewhat unorthodox means of reducing my pain and learning what works in my case and what doesn’t. I ended up ordering stuff from Canada and buying the rest locally. Now, a month later I barely have to take my prescriptions for neuralgia. Yes, the feet are still a bit uncomfortable at times but I can cope with that. I can again snap my toes and with ease. There is no single key element to my improvement; much of it indeed has to do with creative thinking. It surprises me how few people are able to do just that, as it is a key element in making successful discoveries in the sciences as well as in interpreting music. In the latter case most musicians just copy something they have heard or been taught and then try to present it as their own, whether they are instrumentalists, singers or conductors. A pedagogue needs to be able to think outside the box as well, as there are often gifted students who don’t fit the mold and the standard approach would fail in their case.

When my wife is able to keep me company, we often descend to the beach below my favorite Discovery Park. It is a 285-foot climb down and obviously the same coming up, on a narrow path with altogether about 450 steps. I couldn’t even think of doing the trek for a long time; now it is a piece of cake as long as I take care of my balance. To facilitate this I purchased a lightweight Komperdell walking staff from Seattle’s wonderful REI. It also turns into a camera monopod should I need to use one. Half way down the path is an area where one often sees snakes, of the harmless garter variety. My wife freaks out upon such an encounter although she has improved in this respect. I keep on reassuring her that on this side of the Cascades there are no native poisonous snakes, although in the past she has had to frequently deal with a venomous Pit Viper, a European import. Perhaps that explains her disgust with slithering creatures.

With my own good medical success comes upsetting news from Finland. My father Veikko Talvi had somehow tried to climb over the rails that are up around his bed for the night. He had fallen onto the floor, breaking his "good" hip and rushed to surgery. I was able to get through to the hospital when he had just come from the operating room. As general anesthesia is often risky at that age (97), the surgery was done using a spinal block. The next few days will be critical. He will be moved away from the hospital to specialized recovery center, in part due to the dangers of MRSA, present in all Finnish hospitals although perhaps not widely as in similar institutions here. Silja, my eldest, is leaving for Finland tomorrow. My dad has managed to fool the Grim Reaper many times; perhaps he’ll be successful this time as well.

Photos: Sarah in Beacon Hill Park, Victoria
Yellow Eyelash Pit Viper