Summer Me, Winter Me

 

Tonight my friend Paul is giving his master’s recital at the University of Houston and I figured this was as good a time as any to share some more pictures from our day around the city last Friday!  In addition to never having been to the Rothko or Byzantine Fresco chapels, one of the places I have wanted to go since moving here is the Menil collection—lucky for us it’s across the park from the chapels.

Paul is FINALLY making an appearance despite the fact I’ve mentioned him several several times previously.  Light is literally streaming down from the heavens in that pic.

 

The Menil collection with a pretty pretty pink tree.  That’s GOD’S ART!

 

One of the special exhibits in the museum had to do with some arctic theme or something.  To tell you the truth I didn’t really read the explanation but was sold on the concept when upon arriving we were told we had to wear cloth footies so as not to dirty up the pristine environment.

We could totally steal something and they’d never be able to match up our foot prints!

 

WHAT IS HAPPENING?!?!?!

 

Artist: Barbra Streisand/ Album: The Way We Were

Easter

 

HAPPY EASTER!!!

 

Modeling the latest fashion in maskwear ~ by Catherine’s son, Andre (For a different take on this image, check out the gallery’s Easter blog post!)

 

By the time many of you even read this post I will have most likely done three services at church.  Thaaaaaat’s right… I was up and awake at 3:30 a.m. in order to be at a rehearsal by 5:00.  We are doing a total of four services and I have the privilege of singing Ralph Vaughan Williams “Easter” from his Five Mystical Songs.  I have only done one of the other songs from this set, “The Call,” which I sang at Matt and Joanie’s wedding.

This past Good Friday my friend Paul and I took the opportunity to visit something that has been fairly high up on my list of “To-do’s” in Houston since moving here, The Rothko Chapel.

 

This year celebrates the 40th anniversary of the founding of the Rothko Chapel by John and Dominique de Menil and famed abstract expressionist Mark Rothko. Fourteen commissioned Rothko pieces (three triptychs and five individual) adorn the walls of the chapel.  Well, I say “adorn” but there’s nothing remotely ornamental about the art or the architecture.

 

GQ recently named the space among it’s “top 10 most mind-blowing, energizing, unorthodox, and flat-out-cool places to experience art in America” stating:

Rothko, the son of Russian immigrants, never saw this space; he died in 1970, a few months before it opened, just before they had to crack open the roof and rig up a crane to lower in his paintings—creations so large they refused to be carried in through the doors. The paintings are the only adornment in this building that from the outside looks like an electrical substation, all bricks and no windows. But inside… Inside, it's a space that makes you feel like you're living in one of Rothko's paintings. It's a place that captures opposites: It's large yet intimate. Dark yet bright. Spare yet rich. The chapel is infinity captured. Vastness contained.

~Michael Hainey (read the entire article here)

 

A quick stroll down the street takes you to the Byzantine Fresco Chapel Museum, which I had never heard of until Paul extolled how striking it is.  I think his exact words were more along the lines of: “This is probably my favorite place in the entire city.”  With a recommendation like that, how could I refuse?

(photo by Hester + Hardaway)

 

Opened in 1997, the Byzantine Fresco Chapel is the only place in the entire Western Hempisphere that contains intact frescoes of this style.  During the early 1980’s, the frescos were stolen from a chapel near Lysi, Cyprus, cut into 38 different pieces, and shipped to Germany for sale on the black market.  With the knowledge and approval of the Church of Cyprus, the Menil Foundation purchased the fragments and restored them to their full glory, going so far as to eschew museum placement and build an appropriately meditative environment in which to house them.

Built inside of a reliquary box of sorts, the chapel of sandblasted glass panels, steel and wood echoes the original Cyprus church from which the frescoes originated.

  (Photo by Laurence Morrocco)                                        (Photo by Paul Warchol)

 

 

One of the aspects of both the Byzantine Fresco Chapel and the Rothko Chapel I appreciate the most is that the only light provided to either space is completely natural. How one painting looks during the morning will drastically change by the evening.  The glowing of the glass in the Byzantine chapel intensifies or softens depending on its exposure to the sun. 

All this being said, I believe I must concur with Paul’s earlier statement… this is now my favorite place in the city

 

Artist:Thomas Allen/ Album: Vaughan Williams- Five Mystical Songs

An Identity Crisis (Or Two)

 

Last weekend I enjoyed a bit of a Mozart extravaganzafest in our fair city of Houston: Saturday night I went to the Alley Theater’s production of Amadeus with Paul, and Sunday afternoon I saw Houston Grand Opera’s production of Mozart’s Le nozze di Figaro with Jennifer and Patty.  Let’s investigate, shall we?!

Peter Shaffer’s Amadeus, a fictionalized historical play about the rivalry between famed composer Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart and his contemporary, Antonio Salieri, premiered in London in 1979 and quickly transferred to a multi-Tony award winning production on Broadway the following year.  Four years later it was turned into a film of the same name and went on to garner a gazillion (approx.) Oscars.  I had never been to a production at the Alley before and figured this was as good a time as any!

 

I remember watching the movie a loooong time ago and so I was pretty much going into it with a fresh perspective on the piece.  Even at about three hours and just one intermission I was com.plete.ly entranced by the entire production—Jeffrey Bean and Stanley Bahorek’s portrayals of Salieri and Mozart, respectively, are still with me.  An added bonus of seeing the show is that a studio mate of mine from Michigan, Amanda Kingston, played the singing-only role of the soprano Katherina Cavalieri.  Not only does the girl know her way around some coloratura, but she can rock the hell out of a period costume as well!

 

The following afternoon I continued my HGO series with Jennifer and Patty to see Mozart’s Le nozze di Figaro, which now provides me the perfect venue to do a little retroactive blogging from the University of Michigan’s 2009 production of the same opera (and in which I played the role of Count Almaviva).

 

It would take a bit too long to explain the whole plot of Figaro, what with all the mistaken identities, geniological revelations, trickery and musicological implications of the work… for all that and the connection with Beaumarchais’ triology you can check out wikipedia’s article here.  Suffice it to say, the Count spends the whole show trying to sleep with his wife’s maid, Susanna, who is to be married to Figaro, the count’s attendant.  They, in turn, spend the whole opera trying to keep this from happening. Plus their’s bumbling gardeners, women-crazy soldiers, conniving cougars and much more!

Kyle Knapp, Basilio; Mary Martin, Susanna; Kate Wakefield, Cherbuino (video courtesy of Kyle’s iPhone) AND since I’m always up for a little inter-website promoting: check out Kyle’s website here and look for an ub-sessed shout-out in the “Links” section!

 

Now, some of you may have noticed an 8 foot tall portrait resembling a certain yours truly…

Dear art department: Thanks for superimposing my head onto this painting.  Next time, could you take a couple of inches off the middle, please!

 

 

Seducing who I think is Susanna but is, in actuality, my wife in disguise.       Hai gia vinta la causa-ing it

 

Best. Picture. EVAR!! Just look at the kuh-crazy we are all giving.  Anticdotally, it was during the end of this 20 minute long Act II finale that at one point I started seeing stars everywhere.  I thought to myself: “Now wait a minute, did someone change the stage direction and start throwing glitter from the rafters?!?”  No… in fact someone did not… I was just singing balls-to-the-walls and may or may not have almost passed out! (L to R: Ben Sieverding, Kristin Eder, Kyle Knapp, Joseph Roberts, Mary Martin)

 

I also really love this backstage shot Kyle took. (L to R: Rhea Olivacce, Kyle, Me, Ben, Kate)

 

Because I had such a substantial role in the opera, I had a substantial Texas delegation to come up and see it!!  This was actually Matt and Mallory’s first time away from their baby Paige and I’m so happy I had such strong support.

Lunch at Zingerman’s Deli!!!  Everyone minus Matt and Joanie, who had eaten there before when they came to see La boheme and did a little off campus sight seeing that day.

 

Artist: Andrew Lloyd Webber/ Album: By Jeeves

My Love, If I Die and You Don’t

 

Last night I had the pleasure of going to see my friend, Paul, perform the title role in Daniel Catan’s opera, Il postino, based on the film of the same name.  It was also a bittersweet moment… this past weekend the composer passed away in Austin, Texas at the age of 62. 

That’s my friend!!!!!

 

I was only marginally aware of his work (a scene from another of his operas, Florencia en el Amazonas, was performed at U of M) but Houston and the opera world will suffer greatly from his loss.  The score to Il postino was lush and gorgeous in a Puccini/Debussy kind of way and it was such a treat to hear the first production mounted since its premier at L.A. Opera last year.

The cast, crew and orchestra appearing before the show to announce the performance would be given in memory of Daniel Catan

 

As the opera centers around the friendship between famed Chilean poet Pablo Neruda and an illiterate postman, I thought it would be fitting to post one of my favorite Neruda poems:

Amor mio si muero tu no mueres

My love, should I die and you don’t,
let us give grief no more ground:
my love, should you die and I don’t,
there is no piece of land like this on which we've lived.

Dust in the wheat, sand in the desert sands,
time, errant water, the wandering wind
carried us away like a navigator seed.
In such times, we may well not have met.

The meadow in which we did meet,
oh tiny infinity, we give back.
But this love, Love, has had no end,

and so, as it had no birth,
it has no death. It is like a long river
that changes only its shores and its banks.

(Translation: Terence Clarke)

 

Artist: Peter Lieberson, Lorraine Hunt Lieberson/ Album: Neruda Songs

The Ballad of Booth

 

Last Friday Houston was host to **SNOWPOCALYPSE 2011!!** that engulfed our fair gulf city, effectively bringing Beltway 8 and my mother (in town with dad for business) to a complete halt.  So when I got a call from Paul, Keith and Zach to see if I wanted to hang out, my evening was as free as Interstate 45!

I got over to his house and the first thing he says is:

Paul: So… do you know who Yann Tiersen is?

Me: The name sounds familiar, but that means nothing really.

Paul: He’s the guy who wrote the music for that French movie Amelie.

Me: *mouth wide open* OMGILOVETHATSOUNDTRAAACK!!

Paul: Oh, so then I guess the answer to “Would you be interested in going to see him perform at Fitzgeralds later tonight, then?” is going to be a… … … “yes”?

Me: YEESSSSSSSSSS!!

 

I don’t remember exactly when I first saw Amelie, but I do know that it actively changed the way I watched movies.  Suddenly I was noticing the subtleties of cinematography, the way shots were composed, how long scenes would last until being cut to a different camera angle, the use of color, and (more relevant to this particular post) how a score can effectively enhance the viewer’s experience.  As you can see from the poster to your left and the film trailer above, this movie is where color saturation goes to binge.  Think of it as Snookie at a Spec’s… but with ultraviolet tanning booths. 

The use of reds, greens, blues and yellows was inspired by Brazilian Artist Juarez Machado, and it’s actually something that always comes to mind when I’m decorating my apartment.  I know it sounds rather, I don’t know, pretentious to say that “this movie changed the way I see the world,” but it kinda did in both a literal and metaphorical way.

Also, don’t believe me about my apartment? CHECK OUT BELOW!!

 

We had a couple of hours to spare, so we watched the most recent episode of 30 Rock, a couple of backlogged  How It’s Mades, and grabbed some Tex-Mex for dinner.  As we were pulling up to the place I realized that I had been here before when I first moved to Houston and hung out with Brad and Michele the first time.  Except… it has two different stage areas and we sat downstairs for about an hour listening to a god-awful rock band wondering where the hell the act we came to see was.  (The answer is: upstairs in the main stage).  Needless to say, I wasn’t going to let us make that mistake.

We found a pretty good spot to the left of the stage near the (quite paltry) merchandise station. The guy manning the table absolutely looked like he didn’t want to be there and we all started joking around that it was probably Yann’s nephew, who, after his father died in a tragic bus accident, was shuttled away by his mother (Yann’s sister) so that he could have a good father figure in his life.

 

Dani Tiersen: Drifter of the first order (Also, I’m not sure why this looks like a still shot from The Shield)

 

We also all agreed that, if ever there were to be a movie made about his life, that Meryl Streep should be cast.  Need I remind you?… I think I shall!

The opening act was S. Carey, whose sound we can best equate to music written by a pod of whales trained by Rufus Wainwright in an aquarium run by Philip Glass. 

Me: What did you think about that first act?

Paul: I mean it was nice, I guess.  Very “chill”. I could have a conversation during the performance without A.) straining my voice [always a plus for singers] and B.) having to feel guilty about it.

During the long intermission (that’s what it’s called at a concert, right?) we took the chance to eavesdrop on the clientele.  Or as Zach put it: “Geez, I feel like I'm in an episode of Skins—the British version, of course. Not that bastardized new MTV one.”

WATCH OUT TEENS!!!! The Parents Television Council is after you!!!

One Christmas I went to Wal-Mart with my sister-in-law, Joanie, and while waiting in line she of the statistics background asked: “I wonder what percentage of people here are shopping for Christmas presents and what percentage are just here for every-day items.”  I had never really thought of things that way (my non-sequitors are generally seen through a pop-culture tinted lense).  Now when I am in large groups of people and trying to kill time I will ask a similar question.

Me: How many people here do you think watch How It’s Made.

Paul: Oh wow, probably not many.  How many people here do you think are teenage couples awkwardly holding hands?

Me: Hmmm, definitely more than my question.  OOH, I wonder how many people here both watch How It’s Made AND are a teenage couple awkwardly holding hands.

 

If only there were some way that we could visualize that raw data.

 

The break also gave us an opportunity to peruse the scenery, noting that the barn-turned-concert-venue feeling would lend well for a dinner theater experience, which quickly spiraled into our planned mounting of a musical version of the 30 Rock episode we had seen several hours previously.

It’ll be this decades The Producers, I promise!!

 

There was much excitement when Yann made the stage, the most emphatic being a fellow Frenchman screaming out something in their native tongue.  I really wanted to yell something out as well but my French isn’t that good.  About all I could muster was: “JE M’APELLE JOSEPH!!” “ICI-BAS!!!” “LE SANGE ET SUR LA BRANCHE!!!!!!!” 

At one point he pulled out a violin for an intro to one of his pieces, which always reminds me of my friend, Clinton, who said every time he used to play at his church in Lake Jackson someone would inevitably come up to him afterwards and say something like: “Yeah yeah, that Mozart was real nice BUT… can you play “The Devil Goes Down to Georgia?!?!”

 

HOE-DOWN!!!!

As Zach noted, it was interesting to see what music he performs when not in the context of a certain character or cinematic mood (ie: the whimsey and fantasy of Amelie’s Paris).  The whole time I was there I kept wishing that my former roommate, Lembit, could have been hanging out with us.  I always loved when he would just stroll around the house playing his accordion and sing-narrating whatever was happening: “Your saaaaauccccee needs more cummmiiiiiiiinnnn” or “Joseeeeeepphhhh, your laundry [dominant chord] is *dramatic pause*… FINNNIIISSSHEEEEDD [minor tonic chord]”.  Basically he was our very own wandering Amelie soundtrack long before Yann was even in the picture.

So once again a fantastic evening (and yet another shattered mirror of a blog post) was birthed from equal parts free evening and social happenstance! Unfortunately I once again forgot to get pictures of the four of us for the blog… so in our final WTF?!? moment, with the magic of photoshop and the pilfering of facebook I’ve taken some pictures from my dear friend, Heather’s, wedding last year when she had a photo boot at the reception and made an Amelie homage.  (Note to former brides—DO THIS!!!!  It was fantastic!!)  Also, as I am not friends with Zach and Keith on the fb I had to do the best I could…

(With special guest star body, Nancy Brooks!)

Artist: Stephen Sondheim/ Album: Assassins

BONUS ROUND!! As I was leaving the concert I spotted a classmate of mine  from High School, James, across the dance floor.   We were headed out the door at the time and I wasn’t able to say hi to him, but in a bit of serendipity he was actually at Heather’s wedding as well and got a shot in the photo booth.  So, sorry I couldn’t chat, but I’m giving you a blog shout out!!!

Heather and James Dean Franco Rains

Fat Bottomed Girls

 

In honor of my friend, Paul, appearing in the University of Houston’s production of The Magic Flute (now in 3-D!!!) I am finally getting around to posting our trip to what I consider the best burgers in Houston.

Burger Guys—no, not Five Guys—on Westheimer and Dairy Ashford is where all of your ground beef and french fry dreams come true.

   

Yes, the “Houston” has onion bacon jam; yes, the fries are “finished” in DUCKFAT!!!; and yes, I got both

 

An added bonus was that they have Dublin Dr. Pepper on tap!

…or as my brother calls it, liquid Haribo berries

 

Let’s just bask in this glory, shall we? (Which shouldn’t be hard to do seeing as how there is so much grease for the light to bounce off of that even Snookie would be jealous of the tan I gots).

 

Thought it’ll be months before I go back… rest assured I WILL be going back.

Artist: Queen/ Album: Greatest Hits, Volume 1