Music in Berlin

Wow!  Fritz and I were a little late the classical music party in Berlin, but I'm sure glad we made it!  We have a few family members to thank for hooking us up with some sweet tickets.  My Aunt Ruth and Uncle Mike (who happen to be retired professional musicians) and Fritz's parents, Mike and Ellen, gave us tickets knowing that Berlin was going to be a glorious place of culture and music.  

On Easter Sunday, Fritz and I went to the Berliner Dom (or the Berlin Cathedral) to see a performance of Handel's Messiah.  The performance was breathtaking and experiencing it in this magnificent church with a full orchestra resulted in a straight-up goose-bumpy evening!  I sang the Messiah when I was a member of the Ithaca College Concert Choir but I hadn't heard the full score since then, so this was a real treat! 

Fritz and I sat towards the back so we had a view of the choir as well as the entire church.  The acoustics were excellent and the soloists were exceptional.  We knew we were in for a treat the moment the tenor opened his mouth on the very first note of "Comfort ye my people"!

I'm not sure which is grander - the outside of the church or the inside?  

"You have to see the Berlin Philharmonic," was basically the first thing Aunt Ruth and Uncle Mike said when they heard we were moving to this city.  

As professional musicians in renowned ensembles, I totally trust them when they say that the Berlin Philharmonic is the best orchestra in the world.  Fritz and I took only two suitcases with us to Germany, but we both made sure to pack one "fancy outfit" for a very special evening at the Philharmonie, where the orchestra performs.  

The Philharmonie is a very interesting edifice, built between 1960 and 1963 to replace the previous concert hall which was bombed during WWII.  You really aren't supposed to take pictures inside, but when I asked one of the attendants about it, she gave me a confirming wink while saying something like, "It's our policy to ask visitors not to take pictures in the hall."  I didn't want to violate the policy too much, but I did really like the wall of colored lights in the picture above.  The architecture of the building is very artistic and looking down from one of the higher floors kind of reminded me of M.C. Escher's Relativity painting. 

We arrived at our seats at the very top of the hall just before the orchestra assumed their seats, the men dressed in full tails.  An announcement to "please hold your coughs and sneezes until the periods between movements" was made.  Such an announcement has to be the surest way to induce a sudden need to clear one's throat.  And, without fail, the entire audience released one final "eh-hemmm!" and then settled into quiet anticipation as we waited for the conductor to make his appearance.  

Guest conductor, Andris Nelsons, was greeted with loud applause, took a bow, opened his score and assumed a ready position, his baton hovering above the music stand as if it were a natural extension of his right arm.  

The first shimmering notes of the Prelude to Richard Wagner's Parsifal were so fragile yet so complete as they filled the concert hall, and damp tear trails glistened down my cheeks within the first minute of the piece.  It was perfect.

The concert continued with Anton Bruckner's Symphony Nr. 3, and Conductor Nelsons moved like a poem as he entreated the orchestra with his baton, the orchestra graciously responding to each subtle flick of his stick.  

There are few things in life that can truly take the breath away, but the music of Wagner and Bruckner performed by the Berlin Philharmonic did the job on this night.  It was a performance to be remembered.

Thank you Mike, Ellen, Aunt Ruth and Uncle Mike for the gift of music in Berlin!

Birthday Photography and Life

Photo by Karin

Three years ago, my thoughtful fiancée gave me an awesome Christmas present: a Fujifilm X20 camera.  Basically, it has been glued to my side since he gave it to me and it is what I have been using to take all of our Germany Adventure photos.

It's awesome because it's light and little, but the optics are really good and it has all the manual options that a huge, heavy SLR (single lens reflex) camera would have.  Since I got the camera, I've been learning by trial-and-error how to use the manual settings as well as some of the other fun features (like when I take double exposures).  Still, my photography knowledge was a random hodge-podge of information acquired by reading the camera manual and soaking up as much information as possible  from my wise photographer friends.

Once again, my thoughtful fiancée struck with yet another gift that keeps on giving... for my 30th birthday he enrolled me in a Photography Workshop where I could formally learn the ins and outs of photography.  

We met on a Sunday morning at a funky cafe in East Berlin.  You can see the cafe ceiling in the picture above.  

Here Paul spent 3 hours breaking down the elements of exposure and how to control them using our respective cameras.  There were 6 people in our aspiring crew and we represented at least 5 different countries.  I was the only American in the group.  I was also the one asking most of the questions.  I'm not sure if these two factors have anything to do with one another, but hopefully I didn't come off as being too obnoxious with my inquisitive nature.  I just wanted to learn!

Paul was a wealth of knowledge touching on the mechanics of photography as well as artistic composition, and he even discussed the ethics of being a photographer.  Considering my current lifestyle, it was good to hear about the ethics of "street photography" and how to approach a stranger if you are hoping to take their portrait.  I'm not sure if I have the nerve to approach a stranger on the streets of Berlin, but at least now I know how to do it politely.  

After our instructional period, Paul led us out to the streets where we were able to practice everything.  We paired up and Karin from Austria, pictured above, became my partner.  We practiced taking each other's portraits using a shallow depth of field.  This is what happens when you make your subject very clear and sharp while the background is blurred out.  It's one of my favorite photography techniques.  I think it makes photos so interesting and portraits so beautiful!

Photo by Karin

Karin took this one of me.  I think she made me laugh about something but I don't remember what exactly. 

Here is another fellow in my class.  

Peace Karin!

We also experimented with shutter speed, which has to do with how long the digital sensor (or the film in the old days) is exposed to the light.  If you leave the shutter open for a long time, it would cause a photo of a moving figured to look very blurry.  So if you have someone jumping, like Paul here, you want the shutter to be open for a very short period of time.  

Paul's final advice to us, so that we might all become better photographers, was simply to get up and go outside.  "Go take pictures," he said.  You are never going to get that great photo if you weren't there to take it.  Carpe Photo 'em!  And really, isn't that how we should live our lives every day?  I'm glad I have my little Fujifilm to push me to experience the world around me and to give me an excuse to leave the couch and soak up my surroundings. But I hope I never forget that living my life is a choice I get to make every morning when I wake up, and I don't always need a camera to do it.  I will turn 30 years old this evening at exactly 6:34 and 19 seconds.  That isn't a ton of years, but it is long enough to look back and feel proud of all the living I have done so far and feel excited about all the living I have yet to do!  

I stood and watched this street performer sing "Stand By Me" under a bridge at a bustling intersection in East Berlin.  Thanks to my camera and all the thoughtful gifts that Fritz has given me, I will always have this image to help me remember the feelings that filled me on this day as well as the commitment I have made to live every day of my life on purpose.  

Home Recording Studio

Ladies and Gentlemen, we live in a world where anyone can have their very own home recording studio.  As a matter of fact, not only can you have a recording studio, you can even bring it with you all the way to Germany!  

Fritz had a conference in London for three days this week, so while he was presenting his research over there, I stayed in Frankfurt and made my very first music video.  

A few years ago, my friends gave me an awesome USB microphone which I brought with me to Germany.  I found my guitar at a flee market for 35 euros the first weekend we were in Frankfurt.  And computers these days have all the programs neccessary for an amature production. 

So there you have it, all the makings for a home studio!  

The last essential part of a home recording studio, is a perfectly silent room.  This was actually the trickiest part of the whole opporation.  We live one block from the busiest section of railroad in Frankfurt.  Our bedroom window goes right to the street closest to the tracks.  A clattering, squealing background cacophony is not exactly what I was going for, so the bedroom was out for a plausable recording space.  

Monday mornings, the housekeeper is in the building and you can hear her vacuuming from about 9am to 12:30pm.  So that meant no recording on Monday morning.  Then there is a guy who diligently practices the saxaphone from about 10am to 11:30am every single day without fail.  I am completely amazed at his (or her) commitment.  I have played musical instruments almost my entire life starting with the piano at 7 years old, but I have never been as conscientious about maintaining a practice schedule as this person.  Perhaps if I had, I would be a better musician.  Oh well.  Kudos to you Mr. Saxaphone Practicer!  Kudos! 

The last sound that I had to battle with, was the obnoxious and constant buzz of our refrigorator.  I tried angling the mic away from it.  I tried recording in the far opposite corner of the living room.  But our appartment is just too small to escape the off-key drone of the fridge.  So, I unplugged it.  I may or may not have forgotten to plug it back in once or twice during the process... but I think everything is still more or less edible.  

So that's it!  I recorded everything with Garage Band, then used iMovie to edit a few differnt clips of video footage that I took in the apartment.  I learned that it's a lot harder to lipsync than the celebrities make it look at the Super Bowl.  Seriously, I don't know how they do it! 

I recorded the song "Dona Nobis Pacem."  My mom taught it to me when I was little and we would sometimes sing it in rounds during car rides or when we were hiking in the woods as a family.  It's one of my favorite Christmas songs, although I think it's appropriate for any time of year.  There are only three words in the entire song, with three variations on the same melody.  Out of simplicity comes complexity as the three melodies are woven together.  The words mean "Grant Us Peace."  A beautiful wish for the world we are living in today. 

I've posted the finished product on youtube.  You can watch it by clicking here if you'd like.  

Good News and Bad News

After a very unsuccessful Thursday by myself, I was determined to have a more successful Friday.  Plus, at the very least I knew Fritz would be home in the evening so even if I ended up on another journey to nowhere, at least I could end the day with a nice hug from my best friend.  

I started the day off right with a Fritz phone call.  I recounted my long walk to Peter's closed guitar shop, and he quickly jumped to my aid by searching for guitar shops in German rather than English.  I probably should have asked him yesterday, because not only did he solve all my problems in less than 30 seconds, he found a music shop right in the middle of the city 2 subway stops away.  Perfect. 

This is what a real music store looks like.  Let's compare to our experience yesterday: 

Nope. Not a real music shop. 

Yup. That's where you can get a capo on a Friday at noon.  

So I got a capo!  Hooray!  If I make any music worth sharing, I'll post it somehow.  Maybe. 

And then I went to the indoor market, which is open 6 days a week (everything in all of Germany except Chinese restaurants is closed on Sundays).  I think the outdoor market is going to be open on Saturday, but this one is quite large and has all kinds of vendors.  Veggies, meat, sausage, cheese, spices, flowers, etcetera etcetera. 

I got the really good sausage (that one I sampled at the last market) and a bunch of root veggies to roast for a good meal when Fritz comes home.  

Bonus points for anyone who can identify this vegetable.  It looked like a dark-skinned potato before I peeled it.  Then I cut it open and discovered it was this beautiful purple color!  

So things were all going pretty well.  Got my capo.  Got meat and veggies for dinner.  I had 5 euros left in my wallet and I still needed to get rice and toilet paper (running low).  

But I was a little worried that 5 euros wasn't going to be enough, so I went to an ATM to get some more cash.  Oh, that's the other thing about Germany.  Everyone prefers cash.  Credit cards aren't even accepted in many places.  

The problem was, the ATM machine spit back my card and displayed a message in German across the screen.  Dont' speak German.  No idea what it said.  So I went to a different ATM.  Same thing happened.  The third ATM machine also spit back my card but this time it showed me the message in English.  "Account has insufficient funds." 

Well that's weird.  I passed the grocery store on my walk home so I figured I'd see if I could squeak out some rice and toilet paper with my remaining 5 euros, then look into this "insufficient funds" thing once I got home.  

I love Germany.  Not only was I able to afford the big bag of rice, I also managed 8 rolls of TP all for 4 euros and 87 cents.  Total grocery store success! 

Went home and checked my account to discover someone in New York City now has several pairs of really nice Nike shoes and has enjoyed rather expensive cigars which he probably also shared with all of his friends.  That's right.  At some point before leaving the US, my identity was stolen.  

I called my bank and filed a report.  I think everything should be fine in a week or so, but gosh!  I need Fritz back.  Everything goes wrong when we're apart!

Subway Soul Music

A picture might be worth a 1,000 words, but it will never capture the magic that flowed out of this woman's instrument.  I was bustling through the subway when I was struck still by a stream of enchanting Vivaldi echoing through the underground sanctuary of commuters.  I had to stop.  And as I stood, I noticed I was not the only one taken by the melody she was weaving.  All around me, people were pausing.  Some paused just for a moment, while others stayed.  They leaned up against a wall with the overused disguise of importantly checking their cell phone, but they didn't fool me.  Pretending not to listen so as to avoid the social obligation of dropping a few coins into her open violin case, they snuck sideways glances in her direction to put a face to the beautiful music they were hearing.  I know about these people, because I was one of them.  

But I couldn't stay hidden.  I shamelessly stepped out from behind the large blue column I was hiding behind and smiled at the woman.  She smiled back and I took her picture.  I smiled again and I dropped some coins into her case.  In my smile, I tried to tell her that I loved what she was doing, that her music was warming my soul, and that her work was reminding me that a person should never be too busy to stop when they are graced with something truly beautiful in a most unlikely place.   I don't know if she heard everything my smile was trying to say, but I hope so.  My heart broke as she stroked the last note of the piece.  Perhaps it was all in my mind, but I felt the station stand still for a moment in silent appreciation of the gift that was just given.  She released her bow and I clapped as she tipped her head to me.  The din of the crowded station took over and I ascended to the busy streets above.