2007 February

Our friend Alan persuades us to see this well-known piano and cello duo perform at the Edna Rizley Griffin concert hall in Fort Collins, even going so far as to buy me a ticket when I was noncommittal. I’m glad he did. The Griffin hall is small and intimate, which allows for a much more personal impression of artists than a big concert hall. These two have a nice dynamic where the outgoing Han talks about the music enthusiastically, while Finckel elaborates and comments with facial expressions and gestures. The Jay and Silent Bob of classical music. And they do deliver some music, a whirlwind history of the piano and cello starting with Bach. They make all of the music feel very alive and present, clearly communicating with each other in every moment of it. I think the combination of the intimate venue and their vitality enables me to absorb more music than I usually can, including an encore Rachmaninoff movement. The rest of the program:

1. Sonata for Viola da Gamba in G Major, BMV 1027, Johann Sebastian Bach
2. Sonata No. 3 in A Major, Op. 69, Ludwig van Beethoven
3. Adagio and Allegro, Op. 70, Robert Schumann
4. Sonata for the Cello and Piano, Claude Debussy
5. Sonata in C for Cello and Piano, Op. 65, Benjamin Britten

The subtitle is “A young man’s thoughts on trains and tramping in America.” The book delivers just that. The young man is observant and fanciful enough to make it engaging, while keeping it low key, letting the dirt in his fingernails come through. He’s interested in lingo, and shares it in a way that retains its style but also makes the meaning as clear as it can be in a language like ours. There is plenty of friendly advice for anyone who might consider looking for freedom in a boxcar. Apart from all this it’s about the pains and discoveries of growing up – experiences familiar enough to me to make me identify with a tramp caught on the road between home and adulthood with no clear way to reach either.

None of us are sure if we’ll make this concert. Dad has all the tickets, Ann has extra work to do over the weekend, and Dad and Sarah are fighting off some kind of virus. When the evening comes, though, all of us make it Boettcher Concert Hall, find each other and our tickets, and sit down for some music. The circumstances give the evening a fortuitous feel. We’re here, and now I have no idea what we’re going to hear.

Rumanian Rhapsody No. 1, Georges Enesco At first it seems this is going to be a pleasant, happy, slightly flowery piece. Slowly a little bit of a lilt creeps in, as if the whole orchestra had a shot of vodka before coming on stage, and is starting to get a bit carried away. Slowly they give way to the mania, cutting loose into a frenzied, cartoonish roller coaster ride. My mouth stretches involuntarily into a wide grin.

Violin Concerto, Samuel Barber This piece has escaped me, like I’m trying to remember a dream. The first violinist of the orchestra, YuMi Hwang-Williams, played the solo part. I felt supportive of her, the star of my home team. I know the piece was beautiful and enthralling, full of subtle changes of mood that held my attention completely. I remember being surprised at how much I liked it, but now I can’t remember a bit of the music.

Petrouchka, Igor Stravinsky Stravinsky composed this just before his infamous Rite of Spring. It seems like this piece would have been equally capable of producing riots in Paris at the time. The primal rhythms and disjointed transitions give it a sense of nature, where wind may come one second, then birds chasing each other steal your attention, only to be interrupted by a chirping marmot. I enjoy these kinds themes, but they take energy to engage in, and I eventually faltered. Still, I’m glad to have had a chance to hear this kind of Stravinsky piece performed live.

The first surprise is that Brazil has a vast desert of sand dunes with isolated “lagoons” that provide enough water to support human settlers, just barely. The story follows three generations of women stranded in this area, unable to return to the outside world that goes on making wars and discoveries that become echoes in the desert. The drama of the film is somewhat sparse, like the setting. One of the actresses plays all three generations of women at different times, which is a little disconcerting. If you make the decision to accept these idiosyncrasies, it’s a good illustration of the contrasts and commonalities of human experience in vastly different environments.

Referred by Certified Fresh

Watched this at Doug’s place, and I completely agree with his review. My personal reaction was one of great thankfulness that I quit working for a defense contractor. I had ways of excusing it at the time, but working in the bowels of the war machine just sapped my spirit. This movie is a reminder of that feeling. I don’t miss it. I made friends that I miss, though, and it did pay for our honeymooon CDT hike.

Referred By Ursi’s Blog

Doug gets us some discounted lift tickets for Eldora Mountain Resort, and we celebrate his 25th birthday in some sweet soft snow. They had 10 inches of new snow yesterday, and more before that. It’s windy, but in the sheltered areas it is really nice. Eldora seems comparable in size and layout to Bogus Basin in Idaho.

Another snow storm is getting cranked up as I leave work. I’m hunkering down for the bike ride home when I hear a strange bird call. Looking up, I see this Great Horned Owl perched in a tree, posing for a portrait. It’s not the owl I’m hearing, though, it’s some kind of pigeon fluttering in circles around it, freaking out. I have no idea what’s going on, but it seems fortunate as I usually hear owls out here but can’t see them. I’m not sure if I had my flash on or what, but the owl’s eyes shone for the photo.

Near Walden, CO

Mark and Kate take us up the Poudre Canyon to look for a good winter snowshoe and spilt board tour. As we gain altitude the cloud cover grows, but the temperature feels balmy, above freezing. We decide to head for Lake Agnes, one of my favorite mountain lakes, and also one I’ve never visited in the winter. Today is the day. After we reach the summer trailhead around mile 2 we have to break some trail, but there are at least frequent stakes marking the trail. The snow is a marvelous, pillowy powder all the way to Lake Agnes.

The lake, at 10,663 feet, is of course frozen over. The magnificent Nokhu Crags drift in and out of clouds. An occasional snow flurry blows through. While my companions eat lunch, I hike another 500 feet up a nice little isolated gully above the lake. I make use of my homemade slope meter to measure the maximum angle at about 30 degrees. Avalanche risk on north slopes is moderate today, and there is little uphill exposure here, so I take a run on the split board. Ann caught video of some of it:

The lightly treed terrain on our descent would have made for better footage, but I have the camera, and don’t give my snowshoeing companions any warning. Logistics quickly go out the windows of my brain when I have a field of fluffy powder below me.

More Photos

I’ve addressed all the issues I received for 1.0 BETA 2, so the time for 1.0 has come. Enjoy. Submit issues and suggestions if you have them.

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On our third day with a high above freezing, we’re finally coming out of the deep freeze. We have city water for the first time in over a month. My mind seems to melt with the drifts, losing the hardness needed to survive the endless cold. I soak up the warmth and crave more. Then it occurs to me that it’s possible I won’t live to see another freeze like the one we’ve just come through. The news is full of predictions of centuries of warming for the planet. Of course we could be back in the icebox next week, but suddenly this possibility isn’t so unwelcome.