Blizzard, part two

By the morning the snow had started to melt and I was able to find my car, although the night before it resembled a snow statue. After brushing it clean I drove to the Conservatory and continued from there to Naantali, a town known for its beauty in the summer time. The Finnish President has an official summer home there, and there is also the Moomin World, named after the troll-like characters of the favorite author of Finnish children (and grown-ups as well), Tove Jansson. The town also features a big international music festival during the summer. Last summer I was invited to play the Schnittke concerto for two violins and piano with my wife Marjorie and Ralf Gothóni as part of the Northwest Chamber Orchestra’s planned tour. It obviously irked some influential people in our town, to the point that they made sure the orchestra folded right before the two scheduled tours.

Naantali in the winter time is a quiet place, although it has a famous spa which was featured in the New York Times not long ago. The reason for my visit was to see my uncle, my late mother’s younger brother, and his wife of 60 years. Uncle Jaakko had been a very successful businessman, with factories all over the globe, including China. He had patented a self-closing fire-proof door for ships and his company was busy filling orders. In time he retired and left the firm to his son, my cousin. I don’t know if the illness runs in that side of the family, but my uncle suffers from early Alzheimer’s, the same dreadful disease that finally killed my mother. At this point he is still doing well and is a pleasure to talk to, but my aunt told me about his visual hallucinations which had really scared her. He was seeing people in the house and asking his wife who they were. Such hallucinations are not that rare, although more often people hear things rather than see them. Thankfully my uncle’s neurologist was able to prescribe a brand new drug, something we don’t yet have access to, which took care of the problem instantly. I spent a lovely afternoon with my family and was sad to leave, knowing that the next time we’d meet, life for them wouldn’t be the same.

Off to the freeway towards Helsinki and some enjoyable driving at 140 km/h (87 mph). That was slightly above the speed limit, but I figured I was safe as there were others driving as fast. The radio was on again and in addition to political discussion about the election where the Conservatives (National Coalition Party) unexpectedly won 10 seats, there was a lengthy program about the situation with media control in today’s Russia. It seems that under Vladimir Putin, Russia resembles the old Soviet Union more and more in the way the government limits freedom of speech. It also silences, with the help of thugs, those who want to speak their mind and write about it, often resorting to murder. It is said that Russia is even more dangerous a country for journalists than Iraq. What Putin and the Kremlin wants is a Russian version of our Fox News as the only source of information available. Of course it would be more difficult to control the internet, although some experts predict Russia might follow in China’s footsteps. Quite a few correspondents stationed in Moscow were interviewed, but every one of them was extremely careful with what they said, probably as a result of fear. The most meaningful information came from outside Russia, from experts in that country’s affairs.

After the collapse of the Soviet Union some shrewd people became incredibly rich almost overnight. None of the wealth was created by honest means and thus it is understandable that the wealthy class continues to use the services of bodyguards. Honesty has never been highly valued in the Russian society. It is often considered a sign of weakness, and people have had to accept a dishonest lifestyle simply to survive. Western-style democracy is as foreign to the people as it is to the Iraqis, and perhaps deep down, people welcome another strongman to lead the country.

After the fall of communism next door, Finland wanted to ‘rescue’ the remaining native population from Ingria, who are closely related to Karelian and Finnish people. Any person who could prove to be at least one quarter of that ethnicity was allowed to come ‘home’, to the land of their people. My countrymen had expected perhaps a few thousand immigrants but the number swelled many times higher. Finally the offer needed to be withdrawn. Documents were easy to forge or to buy in the black market. Now Finland is filled with Russian-speaking people, many of whom have as much Finnish blood in them as I have African. Traditionally we Finns don’t actively take part in religious life; only 2% attend services regularly. This is also more or less the case with other religions. Some 90% of the Finnish Jews have intermarried and don’t see anything wrong with it, as religion is not an important issue. Interestingly, the recent Russian arrivals have greatly increased the number of practicing Jews in Finland and the Chabad movement is having a jolly good time with these newcomers. Clearly, true Ingrian people would have been Christians, so something doesn’t add up. Of course some other Russians have been allowed to immigrate, so perhaps some of them have Jewish roots.

Darkness finally fell and the sleet and rain slowly ended. After driving over 500 miles in rather challenging weather I was soon safely back at my brother’s house, ready for a long return flight via Copenhagen the next morning.

As a footnote, the victorious Finnish ‘Conservatives’ are so far to the left that they make Ted Kennedy seem like Pat Buchanan. And I love the fact that a candidate for the Green Party, Jyrki Kasvi (“George Plant”), had written a web page, part of his re-election campaign, in Klingon for us Star Trek fans.

Moomintroll and Snufkin fishing

Blizzard, part one

My secret wish of having to drive in a winter storm soon become a reality. On Sunday morning March 18th I said good-bye to my father, who was in great spirits and had no trouble recognizing me. We talked a couple of hours and then it was time for him to use his wheelchair to go to eat lunch. Naturally it was a somewhat sad moment for me, but seeing how well he was taken care of made me feel good and at ease.

So, I checked out of my hotel, had a bite to eat there and won a freshly baked loaf of bread in a scratch-it lottery ticket I got with my bill. At first the weather was ideal for driving, with lots of sunshine, brightness of which was amplified by a fresh coat of snow everywhere. Soon the skies turned dark, however, and I was in a hurry to find a gas station to fill the tank of the Renault. This is when I discovered as an unpleasant surprise that most pumps were automatic, working either with a credit card or €10 and €20 bills. They wouldn’t accept any of the numerous credit cards I tried and then it became clear to me that most European cards come with an ‘intelligent’ microchip and require a PIN number stored in it. Luckily I had taken out enough euros from my Bank of America checking account using an ATM in Kouvola, and was able to fill the car with €40 ($53) worth of 95-octane gasoline. Fuel is expensive in Europe, as that paid for only a little more than a half of the tank. It is a bit strange that we Americans haven’t added that extra safety feature into our plastic money. New European passports also come with an embedded microchip which makes them far harder to forge.

Soon a powerful snow storm started and the next few hours I was driving on a two-lane highway under complete white-out conditions. I could only see the tire marks of one car that was a few hundred feet ahead of me and even they sometimes disappeared as a result of a gale-force wind and blowing snow. My brother’s car radio is always on and I was listening to many interesting programs. This was Election Day in the country and politics were talked about, but my attention was grabbed by a couple of other programs, first of which I’ll tell about here.

The Sibelius Academy in Helsinki is celebrating its 125th year. For an hour I listened to a program about its history, which of course parallels the history of Finnish music. The institution is the largest one of its kind in Scandinavia, with about 1,700 students. Universities in the European system don’t offer instrumental or vocal instruction and only produce musicologists; the rest is left for conservatories. What really interested me (some of which I had forgotten) was how even in the early years, when Helsinki hardly counted as an international metropolis, there were bitter musical ‘wars’ taking place. Unlike in many American cities, there has always been room for more than one strong personality, not just one individual trying to be ‘Mr. Music’, a dictator in this field. For a long time there were two competing music schools in Helsinki, one of which concentrated on the ‘important’ instruments (piano, violin, cello) and voice, and the other, run by a well-known conductor, offered an ‘orchestra school’ where all orchestral instruments were taught. Also, the orchestra scene was never a monopoly: even today Helsinki has three full-time professional orchestras and there is a chamber orchestra, Tapiola Sinfonietta, just a few miles to the west of Helsinki’s borders.

Just about every musical figure in Finland has gone through the conservatory in Helsinki, which changed names a couple times after the fusion of the before mentioned two schools, ending up honoring Finland’s most famous composer Jean Sibelius, himself a former student in the early days. Based on the many interviews in the program, the most beloved director of the Sibelius Academy was Taneli Kuusisto, a composer, organist, but above all, a wonderful human being. His son, Ilkka Kuusisto, is a well-known musical figure for his own accomplishments and the two grandsons, Jaakko and Pekka Kuusisto, are excellent concert violinists who finished their training in Bloomington, Indiana. Taneli Kuusisto was always a great supporter of mine and in many ways responsible for my choosing music as my profession. I don’t know whether I should be thankful to him or blame him: perhaps my contributions to the society would have been greater as a scientist or a doctor. Later, he didn’t hesitate to offer me a position as a teacher in the same institution when I was just 20; many of my students were older than I was. I taught there for seven years, during many of which I flew in from another city every week to teach a couple full days.

That other city, Pori, was my destination that day. I wanted to visit old students there and see how the city had grown. The music school there is now known as the Palmgren Conservatory, named after a composer from than area. They have a fabulous location which I toured the next day with a former student who is now in charge of the conservatory, at least for the time being. Decades ago when I was teaching violin, viola and chamber music there, and also conducting their small but rather good chamber orchestra, the school occupied a humble old building and there was always a shortage of space. Now they have three floors with seemingly endless number of large rooms for teaching, a lecture hall, recording studios and a nice auditorium. Any school in our country would be envious of such a facility. They have about 870 students, most of who are pre-college but about 10% are enrolled in a department for a professional degree. I asked about the cost of the tuition and my guide looked at me puzzled. “Studying is free, of course, as the law mandates.” Not only that, but in higher education students get a monthly stipend from the government for living expenses. No wonder the country is able to produce great instrumentalists, singers, conductors and composers; the same is true in academic fields where Finland truly excels.

Another former student has been the concertmaster for the city’s professional Pori Sinfonietta for two decades. For a time I was involved with the orchestra, well over 30 years ago, but at that time they didn’t have a hall of their own. I was taken late at night to marvel at their new home. Not only is the hall impressive and probably sounds good as it has only 688 seats (the city has a population of 80,000) and this brings the kind of intimacy to music which is often totally absent in American gigantic concert barns. But the most amazing thing to see was the all the space musicians had for themselves backstage on two levels: dressing rooms, practice rooms and other spaces big enough for even the largest sectionals. They also have a large pit and produce a few operas every season.

Even in this paradise of a workplace there is trouble brewing. Musicians, no matter where they are, seem never to be satisfied, and the group has had some rough times with personality clashes. Behind it all is a familiar story: the person on the podium who has put his own interests ahead of the orchestra, almost destroying the latter in the process. My student and colleague there told me she is tired of being the lightning rod which a concertmaster so often is, and she wants to step aside. The city has agreed to that, but will not lower her pay. Finnish people may have their faults but they respect one’s rights and dignity. Our society here should learn from such honorable principles, although I have my doubts it ever will.

And yes, driving fast in a blizzard is exciting.

Photos:
Veikko Talvi 3/18/07
Jean Sibelius

Finnish Line

Although I rarely eat red meat, every time I visit my home country, Finland, I temporarily turn into a carnivore. Perhaps it is the way they raise their livestock (they roam free and are certainly not corn-fed), but whatever the reason the meat is superior to what even the fanciest restaurant in the States serve. Finland was never thought to be a country of culinary delights, but the meals I've had in the past few days have been immaculately tasty and beautifully presented. Who would expect to find a first-rate Spanish restaurant in this small city? 'Olé' has been in business for 25 years and makes the tastiest French fries I've eaten anywhere. Back at home I don't usually look forward to eating out. Part of it has to do with the phony 'Is everything all right?' questions in hopes of larger tips. This culture doesn't believe in them: whatever the bill is what you pay. The same is true with other things as well. Like in Japan, a taxi driver here would probably be insulted if you tried to tip him. That profession is highly regarded in this society and the drivers are proud owners of their usually diesel powered luxury cars, made by Mercedes and Volvo.

It is also refreshing to be able to read totally neutral news and intelligent analysis of world affairs. The story of our government's desire to place missiles in former Iron Curtain countries, now NATO members, is followed by reactions from other NATO countries and of course Russia. It is easy to understand the latter's concerns. After all, we almost started WW III because of the missiles going to Cuba, a similar distance to mainland USA as these would be to mother Russia. If Iran is the threat, why not place such weapons in Greece and Turkey, both NATO countries and far closer to Tehran?

My brother has kindly given me one of his cars to use. I had forgotten how comfortable French cars can be, although I have owned several when they were still available in the States. The Renault's radio has been set to automatically lock into the strongest signal of the Finnish Broadcasting Company's channel 1 which sends only serious programmes of music, other culture and information, with no commercials. Today they've had a lot of music by Aulis Sallinen, plus a lengthy and well done interview of him. Last night there was a live broadcast of a concert of Finnish contemporary music, with the composers interviewed before and during intermission. And much of the country listens to it, not just a few as would be the case across the ocean.

It is sad to see an aging parent lose his short term memory. Two days ago my almost 96-year-old father was very much aware of my presence but tonight he was in his own world, probably some seven decades in the past, and seemed very tired. I will try to go there early in the morning tomorrow, as that is the best time for him. But I'm grateful for the system that takes such good care of him, only charging a set percentage of his pension, as is the case with everyone in a similar situation. Of course the largest cities may have a shortage of available space for the aging population and at times are forced to place them in surrounding communities, but all in all the system is something Americans can only dream of.

Al Gore would agree with the opinion poll here (parlamentary elections are taking place tomorrow) according to which majority of people, by a very large margin, think that global warming is a much greater global threat than terrorism. The proof is in the numbers: statistically winter in Helsinki lasts an average of 120 days but this year it was only 40, one third of normal. Sure enough it was snowing all of today but it wasn't cold enough for the white stuff to stick. I'm hoping for a cold night so that I can enjoy driving in slippery conditions across the country, fun for a Finn, to visit my one remaining uncle plus former students from three decades ago, most of whom have done well indeed in this difficult field.

I shall report back once I return. This wonderful Finnish Nokia N800 internet tablet was not designed for writing lengthy novels, so I'm stuck tapping with a pointer or a finger which it automatically recognises and provides a larger on-screen keyboard. Those Finns are smart; I'm proud to be one of them.

photo: view from hotel window in Kouvola 6:30 AM

Yahrzeit

A special contribution to the blog:


I’m searching through last year’s calendar as I receive news of Mark Paben’s death. Mark Paben, the indomitable spirit behind Northwest Chamber Orchestra, former Board President, is dead at age fifty-one. The coincidence of Mark’s death and the anniversary of Northwest Chamber Orchestra’s final concert, March 5, 2006 gives me chills. As my friend Yuriy says quoting a Russian proverb, “Man plans but God decides.”

Who was Mark Paben to me? For a brief period I believed him to be one of my closest and dearest friends. I turned to him whenever I sought advice. After all, Mark was an accomplished bankruptcy attorney from a high profile law firm, pianist, and patron of the arts. He seemed to know anyone who was anybody in the field of music, locally and abroad. Tall, with boyish good looks and enough charm to go around, he towered over everyone in a crowd. My mother adored him. “So you’re the one,” she’d say looking up at him. “You’re the Mark my Margie raves about.” Mark and I would sign our emails M&M.

Under Mark’s guidance, NWCO board meetings were an experience not to be missed, like a dare-devil roller coaster ride. “Park your broom,” he snapped at one woman concerned enough about finances as to question the practicality of hiring a European music director. We all laughed. Under Mark’s leadership, the Northwest Chamber Orchestra would claw its way to fame and fortune. We took comfort in knowing our president’s expertise was bankruptcy law.

When Mark Paben suggested the orchestra begin hiring only youthful and attractive musicians during a round of auditions, naively I thought him wise. “This orchestra needs eye candy,” he said. “You know, Margie, it’s the whole package we’re selling. You’ve got to look good these days. And besides, young musicians are malleable, not stuck in their ways.”

There was no stipulation for seating in the chamber orchestra contract. Mark insisted that less attractive orchestra players, in his eyes, be moved to spots inside the orchestra, where they’d be less visible to audience members.

Mark Paben had a whole repertoire of impersonations up his sleeve. He did a fabulous executive director imitation down to the habitual nail picking. His impersonation of the public relations person was uncanny. “Doesn’t she just look like she emerged from a complete hysterectomy?” he’d ask, laughing. The woman was promptly dismissed; she didn’t look the part.

Mark used various code names for those who got in his way. I remember some of the more colorful: “Alopecia Woman” along with “Eating Machine”. One man was nicknamed “Teeth Rotator” and of course, “Ben Gay”. Ben Gay was the legendary violinist who could and would play everything.

The last time I had an exchange with Mark Paben was at our dress rehearsal for the Miriam Fried concert during a lunch break. So thrilled to find him in the foyer I grabbed his arm and shouted, “Mark!” After all, he owed me a lunch, and a promise was a promise. But Mark Paben looked right past me, as if I no longer existed. “You scared me,” he said, and walked away in a huff.

His bizarre reaction lingered with me, and I felt distraught. “That’s just his way,” offered one woman as consolation. “He cares too much.” But two days later, immediately following the Fried concert, my eyes spotted him sitting with an ex-board member at a Spanish restaurant on First and Union. Once again, I was invisible to him. I knew in my heart, the two were plotting the lethal injection for NWCO.

Later that evening, an ominous email from Mark Paben mysteriously appeared in my mailbox. “Pack up and leave town,” it stated. Life is funny, isn’t it? I never thought he’d be the one leaving so soon.

A Jewish tradition tells us to light a candle on the anniversary of the death we mourn (Yahrzeit). I will light a flame for my cherished chamber orchestra, and at the same time, remember Mark Paben; may he finally find peace.


posted by Marjorie Kransberg-Talvi

God's Soup Kitchen

A friend recently told about her gratifying time working in a soup kitchen. A former student just wrote that she is going to spend her spring break helping to build housing in New Orleans. These are wonderful and rewarding deeds that bring joy and happiness to both the giver and the recipient. But should there be a need for them in the first place, in a rich country such as ours?

Someone commented, not long ago, that in his opinion, based on my writings I don’t really understand the American way. Quite the contrary, I understand it all too well after living here for over 30 years. When I criticize something in our society, it is because I also know how other Western countries have handled these issues, as I have lived there and continue to follow this progress. No system is perfect, and due to human nature, there will unfortunately always be people ready to cheat the system, at the expense of others.

Every human life should be equally important, and I'm not expressing communist ideas when I feel that the system should take care of the less fortunate. Bad luck or an illness without health insurance can put almost anyone in a terrible position. Today’s New York Times tells about the growing middle class of uninsured. As an example a 50-year-old real estate agent is interviewed. She has had breast cancer and can’t find affordable insurance for herself, unless you consider over $27,000 per year with a $5,000 deductible as such. Many people are stuck in jobs they hate simply because of the fear of losing benefits, mainly health insurance. As I know from experience, a sadistic employer can use this as a threat against an employee, or as a punishment for speaking out. This is especially effective if the person’s health is failing, perhaps as a result of working too hard for too long, or in a dangerous environment such as a mine or factory.

There is no denying that many people are addicted to drugs, but why are alcoholics free to run for president and smokers able to sue tobacco companies, yet other ‘users’ are sent to jail? There have been times during the last century when today’s ‘recreational’ drugs have been legal and other periods when alcohol was prohibited. Nobody can deny that tobacco kills, even inhaling second-hand smoke, yet no politician is suggesting laws to make smoking or selling cigarettes a punishable offence. If drug addiction was seen as an illness instead of crime, our prison population, the world’s highest, would plummet. If the government would help these people with their problem, perhaps the need for supporting a habit with criminal activities wouldn’t exist, at least in today’s magnitude. Take care of people’s mental health needs and you’d be surprised how the number of homeless will shrink, and also add to the decline of our inmate population.

A few nights ago I watched a disturbing Anderson Cooper/CNN special on Christianity. The program focused on some rather extreme evangelical movements where people are divided simply into believers (of their kind) and non-believers (everyone else). Many of these people blindly support Israel and want to destroy its neighbors. Is this done for the love of the Jewish people? Not really. They interpret the Bible in such a way that Jerusalem has to be in hands of Israelites, God’s chosen people, in preparation for Christ’s second coming and the end of this world as we know it. Do the Jews get to enter heaven with these righteous Christians? Of course not, unless they have converted.

When a person is born Muslim, he or she will most likely remain as one, and often obey God’s will in the way their religion teaches. The same is true with every faith. Many people from the Far East have become devout Christians in recent decades, but one must remember that their heritage has taught them a form of life philosophy in Buddhism, Confucianism and other such religions. Having a God to worship is new for many of them, and perhaps an easier way of life than their inheritance would demand. And there is nothing forbidding them to mix both the newly discovered faith with the old philosophy of living ethically.

Yesterday’s NY Times Magazine has a fascinating cover story by Robin Marantz Henig, titled “Darwin’s God” or “Why Do We Believe? – How evolutionary science explains the faith in God.” The article goes back in time and tries to come up with explanations to why humans developed this need in the first place, a belief in a Supreme Being. Why do we worry so much about an afterlife? There is an interesting comment by Jesse Bering, a psychologist who conducted studies on how children’s view of God changes with age: “A large part of any relationship takes place in our minds, so it’s natural for it to continue much as before after the other person’s death. It is easy to forget that your sister is dead when you reach for the phone to call her, since your relationship was based so much on memory and imagined conversations even when she was alive.”

Back to the issue of taking care of our brothers and sisters, whatever ethnicity and religion they may be. Six billion humans is a large number, yet shouldn’t every one of them be entitled to the same fundamental right of a good or decent life as a son or daughter of today’s American socialite? For the time being, relying on volunteers in soup kitchens may be necessary for our society to survive, but wouldn’t it be nice if we could dedicate our time for more meaningful dialogue between people, instead of just feeding the hungry and yet avoiding their eyes on the sidewalk the next day?

What They Don't Want You to Know

It is interesting how in this country, which prides itself as the model of freedom for the rest of the world to follow, media often tells us a story with a slant, and then refuses to correct the faulty information. How often has the press declared someone guilty of a crime or a bad deed, and then when he/she has been found innocent, the rebuttal is to be found hidden somewhere in a hard-to-find spot near the end of a section, or is conveniently missing. We seem to have an odd censorship practice at work, with elements of propaganda attached to it. Certain institutions, starting with the government and ending with non-profits, are able to have stories published that make certain groups or individuals look bad, or deflect interest from really negative news to something else, often a trivial matter.

Terrible news from Iraq and Afghanistan were conveniently put on back burner when a former stripper died. For many days Anna Nicole Smith’s death was the main topic even on CNN news, Larry King Live and Anderson Cooper. People die unexpectedly every day. What made this Playboy centerfold’s story more worthy than that of a 12-year-old boy who died of a toothache? Only the Washington Post and some minor publications bothered telling his tragic story, although it spread overseas, further making our way of life seem ridiculous. His mom had lost Medicaid and had no other coverage, and couldn’t afford to pay $80 to have the son’s tooth extracted. The bacteria spread to his brain, resulting in his all-too-early death. Poor Deamonte became a Deadmonte. Was this story too revealing of an example how upside-down this country’s values are? With the money spent on creating the mess in Iraq, much of it having simply disappeared, every single person could have first rate medical care for probably many decades. It is all a question of priorities. If my wife and I can afford to give free lessons to some students who couldn’t afford to study otherwise, wouldn’t there have been a dentist willing to extract that tooth for nothing?

I can’t help but think back to the horrors of 9/11 and the scary days following it. I still find it very strange that our Vice President Cheney was taken underground to be protected at any cost, and nobody knew about his whereabouts, yet George W. Bush himself was allowed back in the White House, after zigzagging across the country’s military bases on Air Force One for a day. Does this tell the true story of who really holds the power in the administration? What about the even greater mystery of the deadly anthrax attacks by mail that followed just a couple days later? The country was led to believe we were attacked by chemical and biological weapons. When it later became evident that the anthrax, based on its ‘signature’, only could have come from our government’s laboratories, a scapegoat, Dr. Stephen Hatfill, was quickly named. Of course there was no evidence and he had to be freed, but that again was not a front page news item. Five and half years later this topic has conveniently been swept under a rug in the mainstream media, although one would think pursuing the matter would be of utmost importance to our national security. Independent sources, such as this one, of course continue their search for the truth.

About a half year ago many colleagues of mine in this city were accused of workplace terrorism, attacking some coworkers’ instruments, slashing their tires and threatening them with hidden razor blades et cetera. The local media gave a lot of space for these accusations, as the ‘victims’ had gone to their friends in the press. With the help of the internet these stories spread, making the Seattle musicians look like a bunch of adolescent hooligans, instead of serious and respectable artists. A private investigator was hired, by both the musicians and their employer, but he came back with absolutely no evidence of wrongdoing. Of course the media should have cleared the defamed musicians and told about the findings, but to my knowledge that never happened. So, perhaps intentionally, these colleagues of mine still appear guilty in the public eye, and whatever they will say in the future will not be taken as seriously as it should, as they have been discredited by these false accusations.

It is amazing how a local media tries to protect some affluent members of the community. Not long ago, the Los Angeles Times wrote a series of long and well-researched articles about the questionable global investments of the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation. Although I see a possible personal bias in the story, many facts presented are indisputably true. One of the local dailies reprinted a shortened version of the initial L.A. Times story, but the other one supposedly didn’t (I don’t read either, so I can’t be sure).

Wouldn’t it be great if we had access to completely neutral and unbiased press, which would give equal space to both sides in case of a dispute, and would honor the common law principle of “innocent until proven guilty?” Also, it would be a pleasure to read good news, nice articles about nice people, instead of becoming anxious by seeing nothing but stories of horror and evil. Or is it true that one can, sadly enough, reverse the saying “no news is good news” and admit that “good news is no news?”

Grey Papon

Some bad people manage to hide their past and resurface as important figures someplace else where people haven’t bothered to check their history. A convicted felon may reappear as a respected violin dealer (there have been several), a musician moves to a new city and boasts about his/her former employment, without mentioning that he/she in fact had to leave. In business and politics, some people seem to be able to commit terrible deeds, and after a disgraceful exit, they pop up in charge of another leadership position, either with the government or private sector.

Last week brought news of the death of one successful and powerful con man, Maurice Papon. He had held a senior position in the Vichy regime, arresting and sending 1,560 Jews to Darcy interment camp, near Paris. From there these victims were transported to Auschwitz and other concentration camps and thus to death. After the war Papon managed to hide his past so well that French presidents, including Charles de Gaulle and Valery Giscard D’Estaing, named him into important positions, including the police chief of Paris and the budget minister. He was awarded the Order of Commander of the Legion of Honor medal by de Gaulle, and was even in charge of the company that built the supersonic Corcorde. It wasn’t until 1980s when evidence about his Nazi collaboration past came to light. Finally in 1997 he was convicted for his war crimes after a six-month trial, the longest in France’s history, and sentenced to ten years in prison. However, he was released on medical grounds in 2002, having served only three years. This angered many who felt that he shouldn’t have been freed. The head of the Union of Jewish students said that “Papon could die quietly - that was not the case for all those he sent to their deaths”

Papon’s defense argument throughout his trial was that he was only following orders, the same excuse we have heard over and over again. Adolf Eichmann was also proud of this and showed no remorse for what he had done. Even when it became obvious that Germany was rapidly losing the war and Heinrich Himmler ordered to stop the ‘Final Solution’ of exterminating the Jewish population of Europe and to destroy all the documents relating to this, Eichmann did not obey and continued his deadly work in Hungary. With luck and help, from among others some members of the Roman Catholic Church, he was able to avoid capture and eventually immigrate to Argentina. Israeli agents kidnapped him there in 1960 and brought him back to Israel. The trial in Jerusalem was broadcast live and the accused was found guilty on all counts and hanged in 1962, the only time Israel has used the death penalty in a civil case.

This excuse to kill and destroy due to orders given by superiors happens all the time. Some people end up in law enforcement or the military field because of their burning desire to wear a gun and use it. Often the question for such people is which side of the law they should be on. Crime usually pays far better, but there is always the risk of getting caught. Working on the ‘good’ side means less money but being able to legally take aim at a human target under the right circumstances. There are policemen and soldiers who unfortunately don’t think twice before shooting innocent and unarmed people. This is time of war, or war on terror, and human lives are not particularly valuable. But destroying lives can also happen in different ways: a foreman or a middle ranking executive can fire people, or stop hiring them in case of a temporary setup, knowing in many cases that they are endangering a person’s ability to earn a living. Yet these people with this power seem to have no conscience, and they seldom question if executing the orders of their own superiors is the right thing to do. What goes on in a soldier’s head, or a policeman’s, when they empty their gun on a woman, child, old man or just an unarmed civilian posing no threat to them or anyone else? Is that going to haunt him later in life, or is he a true sociopath with no conscience? What about a modern-day ‘Ronald Eichmann’ in the civilian sector, knowing that he has done something terribly wrong? Is he also without a conscience or will he wake up one night feeling pain and remorse for what he did?

We all remember the commercials for Grey Poupon. What does that have to do with the also grey 96-year-old Monsieur Papon or a Nazi official? Well, one was about mustard and the other, among other horrors, mustard gas, effects of which they experimented on their helpless victims. The subject brings me to the fact that I know people, especially in the music field who, in spite of the image portrayed in the media, simply can’t cut the mustard.

More on Pitch and Intonation

Some people are born with a natural sense of musical intonation, a few with perfect or absolute pitch, and others with an ear that even without training can tell if music they hear is in tune. For most, this is a skill that can be developed, either through careful listening while practicing on an instrument, or with the help of a dedicated teacher. Then there are those who are simply tone deaf. Strangely, people in all these categories sometimes end up in the field of music.

Having perfect pitch is both a blessing and a curse. It works as a parlor trick to amaze people by having someone press different keys on the piano and instantly being able to tell what note it is, or hearing a foghorn of a ship or ferry and say that it is a “C”. I’ve found it a curse when I’ve had to play with an organ tuned to A=435, or to listen to ‘authentic’ performances a quarter tone flat, as I hear notes but they make no sense. It is similar to hearing a language that sounds familiar but none of the words are understandable. For a Finn, listening to Hungarian is like that; yet to an outsider the languages may sound quite similar, both being members of the same linguistic family. Luckily, as enough people with perfect pitch have had problems with the ‘baroque’ tuning, the standard seems to have come down to A=415, a semitone flat and fully acceptable to us, even if seemingly transposed down a half step.

A pianist needs not to worry about intonation, and even those who have an excellent sense of intervals and pitch in general, get used to the fully tempered scale where everything is a little out of tune. Often a violinist, who also plays the piano, wants to play music as he hears it on the keyboard, and sounds strangely out of tune to another string player. The ear is adaptable: what is a ‘natural’ scale in Western music is not so for many other cultures and their instruments. Unless introduced to our music early on, our system of whole and semitones might seem very foreign to them. Those of us studying world music are well aware of this, evident for example on the different tuning systems of the gamelan.

The ear is also faulty: when we hear a perfect octave, fifth or fourth, they actually are not so. Before the invention of electronic devices that showed the sound wave frequency, piano tuning was an art form. Everyone in that profession knew the fact that if you started on a note in the middle and tuned the piano in perfect octaves up and down, the top and the bottom were far apart, although mathematically they should have matched. Every cellist and violist is aware that they need to tune their lowest string, a “C”, a little bit higher, especially if the music calls for a long note on that open string. Only three perfects fifths are needed for this. The phenomenon probably happens because nature avoids all types of perfect harmonies, as every scientist knows. An immaculate sounding octave is slightly more that 1:2, and none of the ‘perfect’ intervals are just that.

Just like a string’s natural harmonics, brass instruments work on the overtone system, and a good musician realizes when he has to compensate to match other instruments in an ensemble. Even on the violin (or any other string instrument without frets), after teaching a student to play faultlessly in tune, when it comes to playing chords, all the previous rules have to be tossed into a waste basket. A major sixth that sounds ever so sweet appears out of tune when the notes are played separately: the top note is a bit flat. In a string quartet players need to adjust constantly, especially those in charge of the inner voices, to achieve perfect harmonies. This can take years to achieve; then all that goes out the window when playing together with a wind or brass instrument. A clarinet’s ‘perfect’ intonation doesn’t match that of strings, and it is evident when playing a quintet for that combination, such as the masterpiece by Brahms. In a symphony orchestra perfect intonation in the strings is not all that important: sixteen violinists interpreting the same note slightly differently usually create a ‘rich’ sound. No wonder orchestra strings players’ sense of pitch suffers over time.

What happens to all the people without an ear who end up in music? If spoon fed from early age, they may learn to play the violin by simply remembering where to place their fingers. It is common to find singers who are in the business simply because of their capable vocal cords, yet are incapable of reading music or hearing intervals, not to mention counting. Many accompanists have become ‘vocal coaches’ even if they can’t sing themselves. They just hammer out songs and opera arias repeatedly on the piano, and the singer learns her/his repertoire by imitation. A pianist can be tone deaf as long as he has some sense of rhythm. Some ability to read music helps. But being able to type doesn’t make for a great writer! Strangely, some ‘intonation challenged’ people even end up on the podium: one cannot beat time out of tune. These limitations become evident when a conductor tries to fix a blatantly dissonant chord in the brass, and tells an individual to raise his pitch when it should be lowered and vice versa. Often these musicians are able to fix the problem themselves, just by listening to each other more carefully, and the satisfied conductor happily takes the credit for it. But then, blessed are the ignorant.

“Intonation” © Jurgen Gorg

Of Nostalgia and Purity

Growing up I tried to get my hands on every recording by notable violinists ever made. There were very few reissues of old recordings, but my French trained teacher Arno Granroth had an amazing collection of old 78s which I then transferred to tape. In the process I even learned how to eliminate much of the hiss and other surface noise of those discs, many of which were quite worn out from decades of listening. Perhaps the most amazing recording was the one young Jacques Thibaud made of two then-popular pieces, d’Ambrosio’s 'Canzonetta' and Gabriel-Marie’s 'La Cinquantaine'. This was made before the vacuum tube and amplification were available, and the violinist stood inches from the microphone, accompanied by a brass band, the only combination loud enough to be picked up by the same mike.

Since he was still playing in spite of his advanced age, I often heard Mischa Elman’s recordings on the radio, and naturally bought anything of his available at my favorite record store in Helsinki, Westerlund. As he played somewhat slower than most ‘hot’ names of that time, Elman’s playing was considered old-fashioned by many. In the Tchaikovsky violin concerto first movement he suddenly takes a much slower tempo, exactly in half speed, in a passage where everyone needs to slow down somewhat. This hardly can be because he wasn’t able to play it faster, but probably because the composer had wanted that. Elman was the oldest of Auer’s students and likely the first one to play the piece. What impressed me the most in his artistry was the impeccable intonation and sense of style, not to mention the big tone that was evident even on recordings. He was still performing in the early 1960s and it is said that even then no other living violinist could produce such a powerful, focused sound on the G-string.

Luckily by now most of the old recordings have been reissued on compact disks. One can actually witness the development of violin playing from Sarasate and Ysaÿe to modern violinists. Listening to historical recordings should be made mandatory for anyone taking the violin seriously, just like knowing art history and examining paintings by master painters is essential to an art student, even if he or she ends up filling the canvas with squares and circles, or cow dung like in the famous exhibit in New York some years ago. Great many releases feature Elman, from concertos to Jewish pieces and Fritz Kreisler’s little jewels. Of the latter, it is interesting how Elman treats 'Preludium and Allegro' and 'Sicilienne and Rigaudon' as if they were late baroque pieces by Pugnani and Francoeur. After the violinist learned these miniature masterpieces, it would take a couple decades before Kreisler would admit that they were actually his own creations.

Earlier this morning I gave a student the Kreisler arrangement of Dvořák’s 'Slavonic Dance' in e minor to learn. Of this piece, Elman’s recording has always been my favorite. It is quite slow, but immaculate in style and the intonation in the difficult double stops is simply breathtaking. We call it intonation, but in my native Finnish the term is musical cleanliness or purity, a far better description. This brings me to another topic: How is it possible that master fiddlers of the past with gut strings, or even gut core strings, such as Pirastro Eudoxa or Kaplan Golden Spiral, were able to play so well in tune? These strings would always drop in pitch and the soloist would turn his back to the audience during every tutti to tune them back up again. I particularly remember Zino Francescatti playing the Sibelius concerto and at the end of the slow movement the high natural harmonic shocked every listener for being a half step flat, yet everything else, double stops included, had been absolutely faultless. Before the introduction of Dominants and other synthetic core strings that keep the pitch stable, a violinist had to constantly adjust to the pitch discrepancies. A few people, namely soloists from the Soviet Union, used all-steel strings, but that was an exception.

In this country, on the East Coast, a terrible habit was formed some time in the middle of last century. A famous teacher, who wasn’t playing any more, decided that the students, who were playing solos with orchestra, would have to tune sharp to the orchestra’s pitch. That way they would either sound somewhat sharp (which many ‘knowledgeable’ critics praise for being in tune), or if they happen to play a bit flat, it would sound just right. This practice stuck, and today it is hard to find a violinist who tunes correctly and yet plays with excellent intonation. To listeners and orchestra musicians this sends a message that one shouldn’t care about the agreed pitch, especially after they read rave reviews of the performance. Naturally the string players, especially the first violins who can hear the soloist well, intuitively start adjusting their own pitch to match the star, yet most of the orchestra continues in the agreed-upon one. Even young students are encouraged by their fame-seeking teachers to tune sharp, in addition to doing the ‘right moves’ in front of an audience. Gone are the days when the soloist would stand there proudly and let his or her playing do the dancing. Instead a young teenager tunes his/her violin to 445 or above, yet manages to play flat, and tries to do choreographed dance even in a slow, deep and noble piece. Such teaching preferences will simply destroy a young ear and make music with its phrasing, tone and other truly important factors secondary to a cheap vaudeville act.

Toxicity

I always look forward to the Science section in every Tuesday’s NY Times. This past week was no exception, as I learned about the Japanese grass snake and its peculiar eating habits. It turns out that Rhabdophis tigrinus occasionally dines on poisonous toads in order to fill its nuchal glands with the poison from its meal and thus make itself an unappetizing target for prey. The toxins stay in the organs for about six months, then it is time for a new poisonous snack. Interestingly, on one island there are no such toads to consume and the poor snakes are defenseless, quickly slithering for cover when danger approaches.

So, even in nature toxicity spreads around. We humans are no exception. We are literally poisoning the globe, including its atmosphere, oceans and fresh water supplies. Humans also manage to spread a different kind of toxicity with their behavior. Although I maintain that niceness and goodness can spread from person to person (I feel often better after teaching a wonderful student), there is no doubt that the evil present in many of us does so with more ease. We all know poisonous people who manage to contaminate everyone around them. Often the easiest way to cope with such a human toad is to become equally toxic in our own behavior. A hostile workplace is a good example of this. Even after the initial source of poison is finally removed, it will take a long time for all the toxicity to disappear. Bad marriages cannot be salvaged. Evil behavior on a larger scale can be seen in any of our globe’s many conflicts, from Iraq and Afghanistan to Chechnya and Somalia.

In the same Science Times issue there was an article called ‘Can Humanity Survive? Want to Bet on It?’ Dr. Martin Rees, a cosmologist and the president of the Royal Society in London, gives civilization only a 50% chance of surviving until 2100. He feels that all the advances we have made and will be able to accomplish shall be undone by what he calls new global village idiots. There are a lot of pessimistic scientists around. At last our government is admitting that global warming is happening and presents a serious threat to us and everybody (duh!), but seems unwilling to go along with the Kyoto protocol. Government scientists have finally come out of the closets they were hiding in and admitted that they had been ordered to give a falsely optimistic picture of the state of our country and the world.

Personally I feel that there are far too many humans on our globe for it to support. Nature has a way of radically reducing the numbers of animals when their number increases too much. How this is going to happen with us humans remains to be seen. There are always new terrifying diseases lurking behind the corner. And the number of countries and military or terrorist organizations capable of getting their hands on nuclear or chemical weapons is growing by the day. All it takes is one or two mentally disturbed leaders to start an apocalypse. Perhaps the insanity in Iraq is a first step: at least that country’s population has been very efficiently reduced.

Last weekend I drove to beautiful British Columbia with my eldest daughter Silja. She visited a women’s prison near Maple Ridge, interviewing both staff and inmates for her upcoming book. Crossing the border used to be a breeze, especially going up to Canada. This seems no longer to be case. We were stopped and questioned by the U.S. Homeland Security even before they let us approach the Canadian officials. “Why do you want to leave the States? Why would you be writing a book about women in prison?” I wanted to say that it was none of their darn business, but managed to put on a smile and let my daughter explain. The Canadian immigration official was less friendly than I remember from numerous past visits. I think our neighbors want to start treating us the same way we treat them. Our paranoia about terrorists everywhere is already hurting our tourist industry badly: people don’t want to come here if they feel they are treated like criminals.

Canada itself shows great promise. I can’t think of another country where different ethnicities actually interact with such ease. To see a black, a Chinese, a Pakistani and a white person dining together seems perfectly normal, and mixed couples seem more the norm than an exception. In this rather small town we crossed a highway by foot, at night and in the fog, and found a little Japanese restaurant that had some of the best sushi and sashimi I’ve ever eaten. It was an unlikely discovery indeed. As far as my daughter’s prison visit went, you will have to get her book when it comes out later this year. From what I understand, guards, other staff and the inmates are on first name basis and interact like humans should; a far cry from such institutions just a hundred miles south. Perhaps they don’t have those poisonous toads up there.

Picture by Chris Gash
The New York Times

An Art World Divided

A.O. Scott’s article in the New York Times is titled “The World Is Watching. Not Americans.” and it is inspired by the National Society of Film Critics’ selection for best films of 2006. The three winners are all films done in another language than English. Critical successes yes, but unlikely to be showing up at the multiplex near you. America is isolating itself from the world, not only in international politics, but in arts as well. We are blissfully unaware of what interests the remaining 5.7 billion earthlings. Just as we promote the American variety of freedom and democracy, with force if necessary, we seem to have decided that the taste of most of the 0.3 billion living here should be the only one that matters.

In the last month I went to great lengths of trouble to be able to view two Icelandic films, absolute masterpieces by Fridrik Thor Fridriksson (Friðrik Þór Friðriksson). Neither was available as a region 1 DVD. One, “Cold Fever”, I obtained from a source in Florida, as a version aimed at the European market, and the other, “Children of Nature” came from a store in Japan, with only Japanese subtitles. Having a background in Scandinavian languages I was able to follow the plot in Icelandic, which has changed very little from the Old Norse of a millennium ago. The latter film had been a candidate for an Academy Award for the Best Foreign Language Film in 1991, and yet it had never been issued as a DVD here. Someone was trying to sell it online as a used VHS cassette for $100 which is ridiculous, of course.

Sometimes a foreign film becomes an unexpected success here, usually through word-of-mouth advertising, as was the case with “The Gods Must Be Crazy” which ended up running in theaters for an amazingly long time. But most often the very films that the Europeans or Asians flock to see remain totally unknown here. In a lucky break, a foreign producer or distributor may be successful in selling the product to Netflix, or IFC on cable may pick it up. The rest of us have to import our discs from abroad and purchase a region-free DVD player, or as I first did, a software conversion program. I found an excellent one, DVD X Player, which will play just about anything recorded on a disc. I got the Professional version, but the regular one works as well for most needs.

Critical success the U.S. does not translate to commercial success. There are wonderful writers trying to get their manuscripts published. If they are eventually successful the books end up having only a few thousand copies printed. The battle for shelf space at Barnes & Noble is just as fierce as for products at the supermarket. Only books that have been heavily promoted on television shows make it, most of them talking about a scandalous subject or being autobiographies written mainly by ghost writers. Yes, there is Oprah whose stamp of approval usually guarantees success, even when she promotes old classics or something written on a topic close to her. But a good book should be able to make it on its own, even if it’s not called Harry Potter.

A music critic may praise a recording of William Schuman’s symphonies, but there is no rush to buy these compact discs (where do you find them anyway these days?), and if such a work is scheduled in a symphony orchestra’s program after the intermission, a large part of an audience will head for home at the break. Perhaps in Europe a contemporary musical work will create excitement, such as a composition by Kaija Saariaho, or there is a market for new works in certain Asian countries, such as Japan and Taiwan. With the new restrictions for travel we don’t even get to hear star instrumentalists from the rest of the world, not to mention the new repertoire they might bring with them. If an orchestra manages to come to New York from across the ocean, they often have the same soloist, or even guest conductor, that the New Yorkers are all too familiar with already, playing the same war horse compositions that are performed in the city, time after time during any given season. Likewise, Europeans know very little of American composers and our superstars don’t necessarily get that kind of reception over there. Instead of the world becoming smaller, we have managed to make it a place with barbed wired fences, a globe deeply divided.

Perhaps we can reach an agreement with the Iraqi government that all the denizens of Baghdad are obligated to come and hear American music, performed by either the mighty Iraqi National Symphony or an American free-lance orchestra (Halliburton Freedom Players?). I have made up a list of suitable works and guest artists already, just in case my opinion would be required. Many of our composers of today use percussion instruments rather heavy-handedly, so they might be able to drown out the usual background noise or perhaps even incorporate it into their works. A brand new “2007 Overture”, anyone?

A Schwarz Worth Remembering

History often forgets about true heroes and geniuses, and credits the wrong people. One of these forgotten ones was a Schwarz who should have been famous but whom people now know very little about.

This Schwarz, a Croatian Jew with a first name of David, was the inventor and builder of the world’s first rigid all-metal airship. This credit is usually attributed to Graf (Count) Ferninand von Zeppelin, but although he had made some theoretical plans, they never materialized until he bought detailed papers from David Schwarz’s widow, after the all too early death of the wood merchant and inventor. The first test flight in 1896 near Berlin was not a great success, mainly because of the inferior quality hydrogen gas used. The inventor was on his way to witness the next flight when he died in Vienna at the age of 45 the following year. However, his widow went to Germany after the funeral and a successful test flight took place in Tempelhof (see picture). Unfortunately, one of the propellers malfunctioned, causing the aircraft to crash from an altitude of over 400 meters (1,300 feet). Later von Zeppelin paid 15,000 marks to Melanie Schwarz for some critical information and started work on his own airships, better know as Zeppelins.

Count von Zeppelin had his own bad luck with the many crafts he built and it wasn’t until after his death that Dr. Hugo Eckener improved the design and was able to start a passenger service across the Atlantic Ocean. The high point of this era was the first flight around the world in 1929, by ‘Graf Zeppelin’. Eckener wanted to use helium, an inert noble gas, instead of very flammable hydrogen, but the United States would not let him purchase it, due to a military embargo. In 1937 the ‘Hindenburg’ was destroyed by fire while landing after a trans-Atlantic flight in Lakehurst, possibly by hitting electrical wires. 35 of the 97 passengers died, and one ground crew member as well. Just about everyone has seen film footage of this catastrophe. The arrival of the mighty airship was a major event and there were thousands of spectators present. This marked an unfortunate end to the Zeppelin era, although even the fanciest airplanes today cannot match the luxury and comfort of those magnificent cruise ships of the air.

As the Zeppelin should have been called the Schwarz, perhaps the Led Zeppelin (the ‘a’ was dropped from the band’s name to prevent Americans from pronouncing it ‘leed’) would have become a Lead Schwarz.

Thanks to bringing this trivia to my attention belongs to my daughter Anna, who as a regular fan of television’s ‘Jeopardy’, frequently comes up with her version of ‘Jewpardy’ for her school’s Hillel.

Musical Mogadishu

Year 2006 saw Seattle’s art life take a major step backwards, seemingly falling from a hopeful important cultural center to a provincial small city, something akin to Rochester, NY, or Portland, OR. Actually both of these other cities have something unique to offer. Rochester has a respected music school, Eastman, where serious students come to study from afar, not to mention that due to its location, the area can tap into the seemingly endless pool of talent from the Big Apple and surrounding areas. In its favor, Oregon’s biggest city has an excellent festival, Chamber Music Northwest, which has an active season throughout the year, in addition to a busy summer festival.

Seattle’s scene has become like an American version of Beirut or Mogadishu, with different militias and warlords fighting. A true sign of small town mentality is that one or two people have the ability to decide what is allowed to take place, or for that matter, to survive. Creativity has been suppressed and, with manipulation from the outside, the city’s 33-year-old alternate classical music group, the Northwest Chamber Orchestra, was put to death in the spring of ’06. With its minuscule deficit it should, by sheer logic, have survived, but the organization had become a thorn on the side of some ‘important’ people. We were actually toying with the idea of bailing the institution out ourselves, but with all the bad blood around town, it really would have been too risky a commitment in the long run. Also the musicians were to be blamed, as they stuck to every dot printed in their collective agreement, without real sense as to what flexibility was needed from their part to survive. Endless discussions took place regarding per diems on tours planned, and even lunch had to be provided between recording sessions just ten miles out of town. Some musicians were no longer in top shape, something that is perfectly acceptable in a large symphony orchestra but cannot be tolerated in a small ensemble where every note should be played perfectly every time. Had the players not insisted on medical and dental coverage and pension plan, the deficit would have been history without any other remedy. Yet the musicians felt entitled to that all, and as always, with such an attitude bad things happen eventually.

No, neither Ralf Gothóni nor Joseph Silverstein lost their artist management, but the programming, especially in the Music Director’s case, might have been too sophisticated and unfamiliar for the graying audiences. This is a town, after all, where going to hear an orchestra play means going to a pops concert, or seeing a ballet equals the annual favorite Nutcracker. There is nothing wrong with enjoying either, but it would be nice to be able to play and hear ‘new’ serious music, too, something composed within the last 75 years or so, whether American, European or from another continent. The fact that an ‘inferior decorator’ can write about performing arts for many decades without having an ear or an eye for the art form doesn’t help matters any. Even in Oregon the leading paper supposedly has taken a dangerous route with its reviewer wishing to decide how to keep the city’s musical life viable. I guess being able to publish whatever comes to mind frees people from self-censorship, and they become like drivers taking on a different personality behind the wheel, resulting in hard-to-understand episodes of road rage.

The year for me ended unexpectedly positively though, as I was taking part in a Viennese Night celebration. People were not confined to their seats, and they were actually taught how to dance properly in the Viennese fashion. The capacity crowd was having genuine fun, and the faces of both young and old people were glowing. What more could an entertainer wish for?

Justice, al-Sadr Style

The lynching of Saddam was a fitting end to a chaotic year. Very few people in Western countries saw Iraq’s former dictator as a model citizen, but there are countless poor Sunni Muslim people all over the globe to whom Saddam Hussein was a hero, someone who had managed to rise to power from very humble beginnings and who had the guts to do as he pleased, even if doing so angered former friends and supporters, the United States at one time among them. Personally I have many problems with his speedy execution after a farce-like trial, in the hands of frenzied enemies, chanting “Muqtada, Muqtada, Muqtada”, their leader al-Sadr’s name. I do not believe in capital punishment, which only exists in our country among the ‘civilized’ Western nations. Secondly, the U.S. invaded Iraq, a sovereign nation, without any real reason or excuse, and captured the head of that country. While I’m not trying to deny or defend all the horrible acts done by Saddam and his government, the United States is not a world police force, and it would have been up to the United Nations to decide what to do with this dictator or any other. The only court that should have had the authority to make a judgment on charges of crimes against humanity is the International Criminal Court in the Hague, the Netherlands. Although not known for its swift action, the it nevertheless is the only neutral court, capable of handling crimes of such magnitude. Of course, our nation doesn’t recognize the Court’s mandate, but that simply is an indication that our hands have been bloodied time after time. Diplomats and Heads of State should have international immunity and they normally do. Saddam was elected to be the president of Iraq: the elections probably weren’t fair, but the United States should not brag about fair elections. Thus we made a grave error by giving Saddam to the hands of his sworn enemies, expecting a fair trial. The Sunni now have a new martyr and being an American just became a lot more dangerous.

I watched CNN’s footage of ‘rejoicing Iraqis’ hours after the hanging and it wasn’t until later that the viewers were told this celebration was not taking place in Baghdad but in Dearborn, Michigan. Libya’s leader Qaddafi, with whom we have just started to normalize relations, declared a three-day mourning period and cancelled the celebration of Id Al-A’dha. Even though we now claim that our military tried to delay the execution, in the world’s eyes it was an American lynching, done in a hurry to justify our president’s reasons for the war and give badly needed support to Iraq’s present ‘government’. Even the Dutch ask if Saddam’s death was a blow for Middle East democracy. The initial circus-like reporting of the hanging soon gave way to sobering news about our military deaths exceeding 3,000. The only ones happy about the unfolding of events have been our sworn enemies in Iran. Will this reduce violence? Only a fool would agree. Now, instead of worrying about ‘if’ there is going to be another serious terrorist attack against America and its allies, the question now has become ‘when, where and how’.

President Bush and some others keep on insisting that there is no civil war in Iraq and they are widely ridiculed for not facing reality. I, on the other hand, tend to agree for once. There is indeed nothing ‘civil’ about the war in Iraq: it is complete anarchy and chaos of unseen magnitude. In the northern areas matters are not quite as bad yet, as the Kurds have managed to isolate themselves from the rest of the country. Curiously this trial and resulting verdict were all about the Kurdish minority. Of course these people have suffered a lot, in the hands of more populous neighbors. But interestingly the oppressed here have become oppressors as so often happens: go on the many web sites that tell the story of the Assyrian ‘holocaust’ in hands of the Kurds and others. One of the world’s oldest civilizations hasn’t done very well in its ancient homeland. But then, no glory lasts forever. How long will it take before people start referring to America as a civilization that could have been?

Photo AP - The Guardian