Making the most in Madrid

Sammy Whooshing in Madrid

 In Madrid I'm afraid I have been guilty of what I've been told is an entirely American habit of smiling too much.  But it is simply unavoidable for me.  The weather is lovely, not unlike April or May in Texas, right on the edge of Spring, and bleeding into summer.  What heat there is, is dry heat.  The museums are plentiful with generous servings of free hours.  In the whole month I was there I paid for entrance to a museum only one time.  Complutense's program is challenging, but the teachers are wonderful, and the campus is beautiful.  In fact it is pictured above.  I would advise dropping down if you think the level you are in is too high.  It is probably the one thing I regret not doing, however you do learn even quicker at such a challenging level.  And it is easy to study in Madrid, there are so many beautiful, peaceful parks, that sitting down in the middle of the day with a grammar book is almost fun.  And if you stay in a hostel, you'll have plenty of chances to practice the language; I can't tell you the number of Argentinians I met.  Being in a hostel you also get the opportunity to hear many different kinds of Spanish.  With my fascination with accents, this was perhaps one of my favorite parts of the trip.  

        Perhaps the most fun thing about Madrid is it feels lived in.  There are many European cities, where it is hard to imagine people taking up permanent residence in them. But Madrid has a certain homey, welcoming quality to it, along with all the culture that comes from being a big city.  Madrid is not a place I am clamoring to get back to, but it is also a place that I thoroughly enjoyed.  I would especially recommend Madrid if you are on a particularly long trip.  The laid back atmosphere provides a much needed break from the hustle and bustle that characterizes so many other cities.  Also, the tapas are delicious.  

Roaming in Rome

Sammy in Rome

                After encountering a float of bears in Rome, an exploding river in Pisa, and an airborne attack in Venice I have been obliged to conclude that Italy is  slightly less predictable than Paris.  For those interested in traveling to Italy, I highly advise going in June, it's open season on festivals.  And in case you hadn't heard, festivals are spectacularly fun, as I will attempt to show in this blog, along with the more traditional fun of museums and churches that on permanent installation in Italy.  For those who have no interest in floats of bears feel free to skip to my time in Rome, or in airborne attacks skip Venice and so on, as I won't be mixing my cities in this blog, I find the idea utterly wrong somehow.

Rome

                Okay so, here's the fast forwarded version of Rome. I did all the big touristy things, they're pretty cool and as I'm sure you've heard at some point, everything in Rome is quite old.  My hostel, for instance, was in a refurbished convent.  If Rome has anything in abundance it is churches and gelato.  I advise you take great advantage of both. However not at the same time, it seems the nuns frown upon that type of thing, something about the sacredness of churches and worship.  However I can assure you it is worth it to put down your gelato for a moment to go enjoy the churches, as they are all together magnificent.  In general, Florence churches excepted, churches in Italy aren't much to look at on the outside but once you go in, it's a whole new world.  As for me I went on a scholarly search for depictions of Christ, and a personal search for paintings of Carravaggio.

                 Now we come to the float of bears.  No I don't mean Winnie-the-Pooh, lives in a zoo, bears; I mean the slang term for gay men who happen to be particularly  large and hairy.  These bears happened to be singing Lady Gaga's caught in a bad romance in overbearingly strong Italian  accents (pun intended).  I know, I know, it's an odd picture but I promise it makes sense.  You see I happened to be exploring the Coliseum one day, as one is apt to do at some point in Rome.  I was just about to make my way back down to the ground floor when I chanced to hear something odd.  It was a song, it was, "Fun to stay at the YMCA, it's fun to stay at the YMCA".  "What the (word inappropriate for this blog)!"  I spun around and marched back to the second floor arches.  A crowd had, understandably, already gathered.  Cursing my shortness I searched around on tiptoe until I found an unoccupied spot.  Oh. My. God.  I have never seen so much glitter in my life.  And people, so many people, they fill the street in what seems like an endless parade of rainbows.  In case you haven't gathered yet I had stumbled opon a gay pride parade.  And not just any parade, the gay pride parade for all of Europe.  The gay pride parade that happened to have...  "Is that, um, is that Lady Gaga?,"  I asked the girl standing next to me.  "Yeah" she replied blandly, as if Lady Gaga showing up in her life was a regular occurrence. "She's performing later tonight." "Oh, cool" I replied because honestly, what else can you say in a situation like that?

Florence 

                Simply put Florence is the place for you if you like Renaissance art.  It is everywhere.  A stunning situation if, as most of us are, you are from a country that didn't even exist when this art was created.  And it's very picturesque. Florence looks like what you expect Italy to look like.  They also have a famous Renaissance parade mid-June.  There are drums, and people in costumes, flag throwers (whatever you call them) and horses, and monks that look like they came straight out of Monty Python.  All in all Florence is a lovely town that I would recommend.

Pisa

                Most people go to Pisa for a day, which is usually enough.  Pisa is small, and a bit dingy, and for some reason smells of what I eventually identified as pickles.  But for all this, I loved Pisa.  Then again, I saw her at her best, during festival time.  Let me just say that I cannot recommend the festival of San Ranieri enough.  It's like if you mixed Christmas, and the fourth of July, and a carnival all together, and stuck it in Europe.  In other words, it's awesome.  What they do for the festival is light up the entire riverside with candles.  The candles are in these glass holders on these wooden frames that make patterns, and are posted up on the houses all along the riverside.  They spend all day putting them up, and then come evening, everyone goes down to the river.  There are street vendors with toys, and food, and gifts.  Both kids and adults fill the streets, and there's a certain air of happiness that comes with festivals and carnivals.  Make sure you get there before sunset, so you can get a good seat on the walls lining the river.  Then about a half hour after sunset, the fireworks start.  And it's not like we're used to, where the fireworks are far away, and you only see the  end result of an explosion of light in the sky.  No, in Pisa, they fire from the water.  They have these barges all along the river, and that's where the fireworks shoot from.  It's amazing to get to see them go off, reflected in the water.  Even if you're not the biggest fan of fireworks, trust me, this is a show that is not to be missed.

Venice

                I've saved the best for last.  Although I loved every single town I visited in Italy, Venice was far and away my favorite.  And this is partially because of some excellent advice I got, wander the back streets (especially in the early morning).  Before you do anything else, wander the back streets, go into the small churches, find the nooks and crannies that make Venice so wonderful.  Do not, I repeat do not spend your time in the middle of the day at the big tourist attractions.  Though they are beautiful, it will be so crowded you will come away like so many before you, hating them and hating Venice.  I advise going in the early morning, or afternoon, after the cruise ships have left.  I was also there during their biannual art festival, the best part of which is actually not the art, it is the buildings.  The way the festival works is the exhibitions are housed in these very old palaces, and houses that are generally not open to the public.  At times the buildings have been modernized, but at other times they have not, and you are allowed a glimpse into the past glory of Venetian houses, for free.  But this blog has gone on long enough, so let me get to my last anecdote.  

The seagulls are fearless.  I repeat.  The seagulls have no fear.

                As I've explained, much of what is beautiful about Venice is not in museums, but in the back streets of Venice itself.  For this reason I spent very little of my time sitting down in Venice, even to eat.  I couldn't seem to tear myself away from the mystery I felt sure was hiding just around the next corner.  So when I wrenched myself away from the residential Dosoduro neighborhood, deciding I should probably see St. Mark's basilica before I left, strolling the square eating my sandwich was not unusual.  I suppose I should say eating half my sandwich, as it would be more accurate.  Because on my way to get a closer look at the pillars, there was a sudden flash of white in my face, and a firm tug on the sandwich clasped in my hand.  The next thing I knew my sandwich was gone, and there was a squawking flock of seagulls having an epic battle over my prosciutto and mozzarella.  I did the only thing you can do when a seagull steals your sandwich. 

                I laughed.

                 My slight embarrassment at being unable to defend my lunch from airborne attack was diminished, when I saw the exact same thing happen to another girl the next day. Apparently this is a fairly common occurrence, which is why I must warn you, when in Venice, keep an eye on the skies.

Promming with Mahler

Martin "Whooshing" in front of the Toledo, Spain historic city center from across the Tagus River

I was supposed to see this symphony a year ago. I had snagged early on my coveted pair of tickets for the DSO’s performance of Mahler’s 2^nd Symphony, Resurrection, at the end of its 2009-2010 season. I spent a good portion of that spring awaiting what would be a sonic epic that would combine orchestra and voice (many of them) to paint Mahler’s profound views of life, death, and beyond, perhaps not without certain key references to the Passion. I was going to experience catharsis and illumination on a level that might have been divine.

Instead I spent that weekend on the forward deck of the Carnival Ecstasy, happy to be with family, but continually amused at the strange twists of fate that led to me voyaging to exotic Caw-zuh-mel, Mecksikoh, surrounded by what could best described as the space liner from Wall-E without the merciful Pixar gloss and the Disney guarantee that people who looked like they ate other people would remain reasonably clothed. People boarded as passengers and left as cargo. 

 

Past misanthropy aside, I was electrified at the chance to see Mahler’s Resurrection symphony live in London as part of the BBC Proms. The BBC Proms is the world’s largest classical musical festival and consists of concerts by the world’s best soloists, chamber groups, choirs, and orchestras over two months from July through September. In fact, it’s still going on right now. Normally, most seats are expensive and sell quickly. For BBC Prom 29, Gustavo Dudamel and the Simon Bolivar Symphony Orchestra of Venezuela were performing. They premiered to incredible popular and critical acclaim in 2007. Just watch this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2ZbJOE9zNjw They’re a youth conductor and youth orchestra. Yes, no one in that video nor anyone who performed on August 5^th was over the age of 30. I’ll let that sink in.

 

The seats for BBC Prom 29, featuring that orchestra performing Mahler’s Resurrection, sold out in three hours. But for every concert, especially the popular ones, there are roughly 500 tickets for the arena floor that sold the day of the concert for 5 pounds. Yes, 5 pounds. So what do you have to do get one? Just wait in line outside of Royal Albert Hall the day of the concert like I did.

The queue stretched down to the end of the street, turned and kept on stretching, stretched some more, and eventually some thousand people later, looped back to Royal Albert Hall.

I got in line at around noon, resigning to the reality that I would get no sight-seeing done for the day and that a return to London early before heading stateside would be necessary. I brought lunch, water, and a book. We were given numbers at around 2:00 so that we could have up to a half hour to leave the line and get food, take breaks, or just wander and smirk at those behind us in line. Because Royal Albert Hall is across from the Royal College of Music, I was treated to a rehearsal by a brass ensemble class that used a classroom with open windows. I also spent a good part of the afternoon (the one afternoon where London was actually sunny/hot; lucky me) thinking about life, perhaps the best way to preface a performance of something like Mahler.

At around 5:30, I saw another queue form to the confusion to nearly everyone in line.  

 

Turns out it was just the queue for the preconcert lecture. Naturally it was full of the older and wealthier patrons who managed to get actual seats during that lucky three hour window during which I was likely still asleep in Texas. 

Finally, at 7:00, I had my ticket. From the moment of entering the arena floor onward, I really can’t describe any actual emotions other than, “Woah, this is really happening.” Royal Albert Hall itself is just as gorgeous on the inside as on the outside. Like many others with me, I took off my shoes and kept them off as we stood for the entire two hour performance.

The performance itself? It was as grand, dramatic, intense, beautiful, and divine as you’d expect from a composition of its scope, if another were to exist. I have a hard time reviewing it, despite having heard it three times, because it’s a piece to evaluated based on an individual’s spiritual reaction to it, not just the technical skill. Just start here and make your own judgments: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oi7kb4U7VsE&feature=related It’s worth your time, especially when you’re at the last movement and reading the lyrics, which can have profound personal import. Just watch it. Trust me.

My only qualms would be about the acoustics of the Hall. The choral work and the off-stage brass/percussion resonated with clarity and wonderful color. When the entire 500+ person ensemble of mega-orchestra (3 sets of timpani, anyone?), full choir, off-stage corps, organ, and voice soloists played loudly in unison, the Hall worked magnificently, allowing each timbre to come through despite the massive volume. Yet during passages of lower dynamics, the group sounded a bit watery and muddled, a fault I attribute to my location on the arena floor and not the playing itself. Still, it made me miss the Meyerson’s modern and peerless acoustics. 

When Dudamel ended the final climax, we treated them to the longest and loudest standing ovation (okay, 500 of us were already standing) I’ve ever participated in, a good 20 minutes.

There was a great sense of camaraderie among us in the arena. Everyone was willing to take photos for each other (including the one of me at the top) and unlike most DSO concerts I’ve been to, strangers freely talked about the performance. In a way, perhaps, the concert made us better people for a time. Here’s hoping this isn’t the last time I go to a Proms concert, but I’ll definitely try to snag tickets next time to avoid the fun (but maybe once-only) adventure of waiting seven hours in line. 

Martin Whooshing from the arena floor of the Royal Albert Hall after BBC Prom 29