mardi 23 février 2016
dimanche 11 septembre 2011
Today, were all New Yorkers
So a funny thing happened a couple of weeks ago. I moved to New York. I don't think I will ever forget pulling up to my neighborhood in a taxi, and walking up the stairs while all my neighbors were awkwardly staring at the new white boy moving into the hood. Nor will I forget speaking to my landlady who's english is....... eehhhhhhhh........ and trying to fall asleep on the top bunk in a burning hot apartment that first night while the words, " I live in New York," kept running through my head.
But honestly it is fantastic. I have made some great friends, I'm starting to get the hang of classes, and I say good morning to all of my neighbors when I leave the house to go to school. The dog that lives in my apartment doesn't smell quite so bad anymore, ( her name is Shina, the landlady keeps her hear because she says that she doesn't get along with the other dogs, but I swear it is because of the smell. My wonderful mother helped me clean up all of the hair that was undoubetdly contributing to the stench, bless you mother.) And now when I want to get somewhere I don't have to call friends, or ask random people on the train which stop to get off at. All I need is an address and I'll get there. Thats not bad for two weeks right? (K seriously, while I am sitting here writing my dog farted and when I yelled at her and then she came up and breathed on my face. I wish there was a tasteful moral way to kill someone else's dog.)
Of course my favorite thing about living here is exactly what I thought it would be, the music. I have gone to see two opera showings, been to four broadway shows, and last night I say the New York Phil (more on that later). Its been two weeks. I'm gonna be here for TWO YEARS!!!! ( My dog just farted again..... wow.) I have also spent nights with friends wandering around the endless blocks looking at things I remember from TV and Movies, and trying to get a feel from the Bronx to the village on how it all fits together. It feels adventurous. It feels refreshing. Of course a lot of this easy fun transition had to do with my wonderful mother. She came here and spent a few days with me helping me clean the apartment, taking me to see shows, and buying me food and other things the apartment needed. I don't know what I did to deserve a mother like her. Thanks mom!
School is an exciting and terrifying environment. I am the only American taking from my Russian piano teacher. There are two kids from Costa Rica, three from Spain, and the rest are from Korea or China. American pianists are a dying race. I blame Miley Cyrus and Lady Gaga. Maybe I blame the record companies, or Snookie she is making everybody dummer. I am not sure I'll get back to you on that one.
So last night I went and saw the New York Phil play Malhers Resurrection Symphony number 2. It was a tribute concert to the victims of 9/11. The posters all over the city said simply, "Concert for New York." It started with the conductor coming onstage and asking the audience to rise. We all sang "The Star Spangled Banner," with the powerful accompaniment of the New York Phil. It is a wonderful feeling to stand in a room full of strangers from all different walks of life and feel so united. We are Americans. When those towers were hit 10 years ago Al Queda wasn't just attacking a certain group of people. They were giving the most vicious insult they could possibly give to who we are by taking American lives. It was such a wonderful feeling to stand there with all those people who shared my love for America and pay respect to the recovering families, and our recovered nation. The symphony was absolutely gorgeous and when the singers and choir sang about the hope of resurrection that we have through Christ it was a very fitting way to remember the people who died than remembering that they won't be dead forever.
So anyway that is life in New York. I wake up everyday, play a little on the Steinway in my apartment, (that is right there is a Steinway in my apartment, how cool is that), go for a run, go to school, come home practice some more, read, and go to bed. A show here, a concert there, a dirty cheap hot dog off the street every once in a while, metro rides, and whatever else I haven't discovered yet. Sounds great right? So you should come visit. I got a couch, a bed. If you can stand the smell of the dog your welcome to stay. Everyone needs to spend a little time in the city. I guess when the towers hit 10 years President Bush told the mayor that "Today were all New Yorkers." God Bless America, and today God Bless New York, my new home.
Ryan
But honestly it is fantastic. I have made some great friends, I'm starting to get the hang of classes, and I say good morning to all of my neighbors when I leave the house to go to school. The dog that lives in my apartment doesn't smell quite so bad anymore, ( her name is Shina, the landlady keeps her hear because she says that she doesn't get along with the other dogs, but I swear it is because of the smell. My wonderful mother helped me clean up all of the hair that was undoubetdly contributing to the stench, bless you mother.) And now when I want to get somewhere I don't have to call friends, or ask random people on the train which stop to get off at. All I need is an address and I'll get there. Thats not bad for two weeks right? (K seriously, while I am sitting here writing my dog farted and when I yelled at her and then she came up and breathed on my face. I wish there was a tasteful moral way to kill someone else's dog.)
Of course my favorite thing about living here is exactly what I thought it would be, the music. I have gone to see two opera showings, been to four broadway shows, and last night I say the New York Phil (more on that later). Its been two weeks. I'm gonna be here for TWO YEARS!!!! ( My dog just farted again..... wow.) I have also spent nights with friends wandering around the endless blocks looking at things I remember from TV and Movies, and trying to get a feel from the Bronx to the village on how it all fits together. It feels adventurous. It feels refreshing. Of course a lot of this easy fun transition had to do with my wonderful mother. She came here and spent a few days with me helping me clean the apartment, taking me to see shows, and buying me food and other things the apartment needed. I don't know what I did to deserve a mother like her. Thanks mom!
School is an exciting and terrifying environment. I am the only American taking from my Russian piano teacher. There are two kids from Costa Rica, three from Spain, and the rest are from Korea or China. American pianists are a dying race. I blame Miley Cyrus and Lady Gaga. Maybe I blame the record companies, or Snookie she is making everybody dummer. I am not sure I'll get back to you on that one.
So last night I went and saw the New York Phil play Malhers Resurrection Symphony number 2. It was a tribute concert to the victims of 9/11. The posters all over the city said simply, "Concert for New York." It started with the conductor coming onstage and asking the audience to rise. We all sang "The Star Spangled Banner," with the powerful accompaniment of the New York Phil. It is a wonderful feeling to stand in a room full of strangers from all different walks of life and feel so united. We are Americans. When those towers were hit 10 years ago Al Queda wasn't just attacking a certain group of people. They were giving the most vicious insult they could possibly give to who we are by taking American lives. It was such a wonderful feeling to stand there with all those people who shared my love for America and pay respect to the recovering families, and our recovered nation. The symphony was absolutely gorgeous and when the singers and choir sang about the hope of resurrection that we have through Christ it was a very fitting way to remember the people who died than remembering that they won't be dead forever.
So anyway that is life in New York. I wake up everyday, play a little on the Steinway in my apartment, (that is right there is a Steinway in my apartment, how cool is that), go for a run, go to school, come home practice some more, read, and go to bed. A show here, a concert there, a dirty cheap hot dog off the street every once in a while, metro rides, and whatever else I haven't discovered yet. Sounds great right? So you should come visit. I got a couch, a bed. If you can stand the smell of the dog your welcome to stay. Everyone needs to spend a little time in the city. I guess when the towers hit 10 years President Bush told the mayor that "Today were all New Yorkers." God Bless America, and today God Bless New York, my new home.
Ryan
dimanche 14 août 2011
Returning thoughts of a Returned Missionary
So I spent last week in Portugal. It felt like a dream at first and then slowly became my reality again as if I was waking up from being a normal person and slowly becoming that 19 year old missionary who used to live in there. I went through the same thing again as my reality changed when I flew home (it was about 24 hours of travel, I am still messed up) and sat down at dinner with my family. Once again I had to wake up from my other dream to the reality of being in America again. My week felt like a year. A year of an emotional roller coaster.
It made me realize that loving someone is such a risk. And in this case I am not talking at all about romantic love though there is certainly risk in that. No I am just talking about getting to know someone and just loving them as a person. It was such a roller coaster because I had been gone and out of contact with so many of these people for three years and some of their lives had gone in a good direction and some of them hadn't. When someone that you love makes bad choices, or just has bad luck, you really feel their pain, literally. Of course on the other hand when good things happen to people that you love and they make good choices (a lot of the time these two things go hand in hand) you are so happy for them!
When you go away from people that you are close to for awhile and then come back the change is so obvious that it is either a cause for joy or a huge slap in the face. These same changes and decisions are made in the lives of those we love all the time but they are so gradual sometimes they don't hit us with as much effect.
But hey life is hard sometimes. I know that. I have my ups and downs as well and forgiveness and peace through Christ is always there. Wrong choices aren't the end of the road. Sometimes they are the way people find the road in the first place. I think that the lord expects us to fall down and that that is just part of life. My dad always says "The only real tragedy is unrepented sin." So if we repent it is not a tragedy at all right?
The thing that bothers me is when people seem to bar the way back to the lord because the road is to hard. There are a few reasons that people leave the church. As I listened to stories of people I knew I noticed a couple of reoccuring patterns: they were offended, or they sinned and repentance is a process that is too hard to begin. The thing that really bugged me maybe more than anything else was when people experienced these things and then tried to figure out a way to deny their testimonies of the truth so they didn't have to live it any more. These people have had spiritual experiences, confirmations, and have read and understood by the spirit the truthfulness of The Book of Mormon. They can't live with themselves knowing that they are willfully rebelling against god. So instead of humbling themselves and repenting they look for reasons to discredit the prophet Joseph Smith, The Book of Mormon, or their church leaders so they can so they don't have to feel guilty about continuing to do what they are doing. When someone I love gets to this point, it is truly breaks my heart. Yet even these were good learning experiences of how to keep myself into falling into satans traps and I hope I can use it to help others avoid the same pitfalls.
And yet on the other end of the spectrum, loving someone can be so rewarding. A man I baptized named Alvaro has gone to the temple, helped his friends to accept the gospel, visits less active, and prays humbly for the day when his wife will join the church so he can be sealed. It was such a wonderful experience seeing the change in him. Two years ago he looked to me for help and advice on how to live his life, when we met three years later as brothers in Christ I felt like it was who should look to him.
All in all Portugal hasn't changed much. It's hot in the summer time, the pastries are wonderful, and there are some of the best and most faithful people I have ever known. Despite the heartache one experiences because of really loving someone, the joy that one can experience is certainly worth the risk. I hope that in 3 years if I went back I would find my friends that are happy, still happy. I also hope I would find those that have strayed from the path returned. Most of you will not read or understand this, (cause its in english) but I love you. And continuing to love you is a risk I am willing to take.
It made me realize that loving someone is such a risk. And in this case I am not talking at all about romantic love though there is certainly risk in that. No I am just talking about getting to know someone and just loving them as a person. It was such a roller coaster because I had been gone and out of contact with so many of these people for three years and some of their lives had gone in a good direction and some of them hadn't. When someone that you love makes bad choices, or just has bad luck, you really feel their pain, literally. Of course on the other hand when good things happen to people that you love and they make good choices (a lot of the time these two things go hand in hand) you are so happy for them!
When you go away from people that you are close to for awhile and then come back the change is so obvious that it is either a cause for joy or a huge slap in the face. These same changes and decisions are made in the lives of those we love all the time but they are so gradual sometimes they don't hit us with as much effect.
But hey life is hard sometimes. I know that. I have my ups and downs as well and forgiveness and peace through Christ is always there. Wrong choices aren't the end of the road. Sometimes they are the way people find the road in the first place. I think that the lord expects us to fall down and that that is just part of life. My dad always says "The only real tragedy is unrepented sin." So if we repent it is not a tragedy at all right?
The thing that bothers me is when people seem to bar the way back to the lord because the road is to hard. There are a few reasons that people leave the church. As I listened to stories of people I knew I noticed a couple of reoccuring patterns: they were offended, or they sinned and repentance is a process that is too hard to begin. The thing that really bugged me maybe more than anything else was when people experienced these things and then tried to figure out a way to deny their testimonies of the truth so they didn't have to live it any more. These people have had spiritual experiences, confirmations, and have read and understood by the spirit the truthfulness of The Book of Mormon. They can't live with themselves knowing that they are willfully rebelling against god. So instead of humbling themselves and repenting they look for reasons to discredit the prophet Joseph Smith, The Book of Mormon, or their church leaders so they can so they don't have to feel guilty about continuing to do what they are doing. When someone I love gets to this point, it is truly breaks my heart. Yet even these were good learning experiences of how to keep myself into falling into satans traps and I hope I can use it to help others avoid the same pitfalls.
And yet on the other end of the spectrum, loving someone can be so rewarding. A man I baptized named Alvaro has gone to the temple, helped his friends to accept the gospel, visits less active, and prays humbly for the day when his wife will join the church so he can be sealed. It was such a wonderful experience seeing the change in him. Two years ago he looked to me for help and advice on how to live his life, when we met three years later as brothers in Christ I felt like it was who should look to him.
All in all Portugal hasn't changed much. It's hot in the summer time, the pastries are wonderful, and there are some of the best and most faithful people I have ever known. Despite the heartache one experiences because of really loving someone, the joy that one can experience is certainly worth the risk. I hope that in 3 years if I went back I would find my friends that are happy, still happy. I also hope I would find those that have strayed from the path returned. Most of you will not read or understand this, (cause its in english) but I love you. And continuing to love you is a risk I am willing to take.
lundi 1 août 2011
From France to Portugal, from making memories to reliving old ones.
I am typing this blog on a portuguese computer which means it will probably take me twice is long and be half as clear. It has been an exciting and eventful couple of weeks and with all the thoughts and emotions that are swimming through my head I find it hard to find where to start.
The last little bit of my program in Paris was wonderful. It is interesting how you come to things like that as strangers and leave as friends. I don´t know how it works with other people but I feel like I always connect with people the most when our time together is drawing to an end. Whether it was wards in college, high school, my mission or programs like this the friendships that you have really blossom towards the end and you often have the thought, why wasn´t I getting to know this amazing person earlier when had time. Why is it now that we are discovering that we could be best friends? Thats life I guess ( at least it seems to be for me) and I came to really love all the kids and teachers that I associated with toward the end of the group.
One of my favorite and perhaps most thoughtful things that I enjoyed doing the last week was visiting the graves of Chopin and Jim Morrison. They are buried in a huuuuuuge cemetery. I thought that I could walk in and see it and walk out but it took me an hour to find the graves. They are not really in centered and honored spots as one would think. Chopins grave is small and tucked away. I felt a certain spirit standing in front of his grave. Part of it was gratitude for all the beautiful music that he wrote and part of it was the thought of the possibility of redemption and ressurection for a man that I have come to know well through various biographies as well as his music. Jim Morrisons grave had a very different feel. It was covered in beer bottles and that famous picture of him with his is shirt off and crazy curly hair covering it- There was a couple that I swear was high next to the grave sight with their eyes closed listening to some of his crazy poetry. I thought it interesting that Chopin died because modern medicine hadn´t advanced enough to save him. Jim Morrison died because modern medicine had perhaps advanced too far. It made me think of all of the responsibility that comes with wonderful advancements such as the internet, travel, the press, and lots of other things. My favorite moment in the graveyard was standing next to a man and his family. The wife looked at Chopin's grave and said 'This guy Chopin might have even more fans than Jim Morrison.' And the husband replied, 'No way that that is true. Some piano guy? Over Jim Morrison? Yea right.' And experiences like that make me understand why people might hate americans.
The last week we had lots of concerts and I got to play in a few of the pieces scheduled. My favorite was a Mendlesohn piano trio in D minor with a killer killer killer piano part. Whenever anybody commented after they always included that I played 'a lot of notes,' which certainly described it. The choir that our group performed sounded beautiful. We sand songs by Byrd, Josquin, Palestrina, Rachmaninoff and others that I can't remember the name of because their not as famous. The composers in the program also really stepped up and it was great hearing a lot of original material. The missionary experiences that we had with all these great people were fantastic as well. I love talking to intelligent good people about the truthfulness of the gospel. It feels sooooo good.
So Saturday afternoon it was bye bye France and hello Portugal. I hopped on a plane to porto and then hopped on a train up to Guimaraes the first place that I served as a missionary. I am staying with Alcino a friend from when I served here who is now the branch president and has a new little baby boy. It is great to see people that you love doing well. He and his family have treated me like a king while I have been here. I got to go to church on Sunday and see all of my old friends. One special moment was when I got to stand in the priesthood circle and bless one of my old friends new little baby boy. Got to fill that primary up! Of course with all of the progression that many of my friends here have made some have digressed and it is heart breaking. I do love being here though. I was in this city for six months and when I walk around I can almost see a big awkward greeny from America walking around with his fellow red head trainer elder christiansen. I can see in retrospect the growth that I had and the love that developed for these people as I did my best to serve them. Being in a place that you know, loved, and grew in after so much time makes one think about the responsibility to continue to grow.
On a lighter note I was so excited to eat a francesinha that the second I got off the plane I found a restaurant and had one. A francesinha is a portuguese sandwhich drenched in sauce and surrounded by french fries with an egg on top that one can only find here. After eating that one the first night, I have been fed Francesinhas the next two nights as well. I have been here for three days and eaten three francesinhas and i am not even tired of them. They are that good haha.
Tomorrow I am off to Braga another city that I served in and love to visit other friends. Joseph Fielding Mckonkie, Elder Bruce R's son, is serving a mission there and taught a fireside sunday night. I drove out with some friends to see him and it was crazy how much he looked and sounded like his dad when he taught.
It is really hard to describe in words what I am feeling here. When you learn to love a place and leave, it is sometimes shocking when you come back both how much as changed, and how much hasn 't really changed at all. Many of the people that I left here are doing the same thing they were doing when I left, for some this is good and for some not so good. And yet others have experienced new joys like having a baby or horrible ones like going through a divorce. When you are living out these major changes and they happen gradually it doesnt come as quite a shock as when you see them all at once in their beauty or in their harsh reality. It makes one think...... Where do I want to be in three years? What do I need to keep consistent and what do I need to change?
I realize that this is a more serious blog than my previous one on how french people smell. But hey I can be serious. But if you got bored with my deep thoughts, don't worry I will think of something ridiculous to blog about soon.
Ryan
The last little bit of my program in Paris was wonderful. It is interesting how you come to things like that as strangers and leave as friends. I don´t know how it works with other people but I feel like I always connect with people the most when our time together is drawing to an end. Whether it was wards in college, high school, my mission or programs like this the friendships that you have really blossom towards the end and you often have the thought, why wasn´t I getting to know this amazing person earlier when had time. Why is it now that we are discovering that we could be best friends? Thats life I guess ( at least it seems to be for me) and I came to really love all the kids and teachers that I associated with toward the end of the group.
One of my favorite and perhaps most thoughtful things that I enjoyed doing the last week was visiting the graves of Chopin and Jim Morrison. They are buried in a huuuuuuge cemetery. I thought that I could walk in and see it and walk out but it took me an hour to find the graves. They are not really in centered and honored spots as one would think. Chopins grave is small and tucked away. I felt a certain spirit standing in front of his grave. Part of it was gratitude for all the beautiful music that he wrote and part of it was the thought of the possibility of redemption and ressurection for a man that I have come to know well through various biographies as well as his music. Jim Morrisons grave had a very different feel. It was covered in beer bottles and that famous picture of him with his is shirt off and crazy curly hair covering it- There was a couple that I swear was high next to the grave sight with their eyes closed listening to some of his crazy poetry. I thought it interesting that Chopin died because modern medicine hadn´t advanced enough to save him. Jim Morrison died because modern medicine had perhaps advanced too far. It made me think of all of the responsibility that comes with wonderful advancements such as the internet, travel, the press, and lots of other things. My favorite moment in the graveyard was standing next to a man and his family. The wife looked at Chopin's grave and said 'This guy Chopin might have even more fans than Jim Morrison.' And the husband replied, 'No way that that is true. Some piano guy? Over Jim Morrison? Yea right.' And experiences like that make me understand why people might hate americans.
The last week we had lots of concerts and I got to play in a few of the pieces scheduled. My favorite was a Mendlesohn piano trio in D minor with a killer killer killer piano part. Whenever anybody commented after they always included that I played 'a lot of notes,' which certainly described it. The choir that our group performed sounded beautiful. We sand songs by Byrd, Josquin, Palestrina, Rachmaninoff and others that I can't remember the name of because their not as famous. The composers in the program also really stepped up and it was great hearing a lot of original material. The missionary experiences that we had with all these great people were fantastic as well. I love talking to intelligent good people about the truthfulness of the gospel. It feels sooooo good.
So Saturday afternoon it was bye bye France and hello Portugal. I hopped on a plane to porto and then hopped on a train up to Guimaraes the first place that I served as a missionary. I am staying with Alcino a friend from when I served here who is now the branch president and has a new little baby boy. It is great to see people that you love doing well. He and his family have treated me like a king while I have been here. I got to go to church on Sunday and see all of my old friends. One special moment was when I got to stand in the priesthood circle and bless one of my old friends new little baby boy. Got to fill that primary up! Of course with all of the progression that many of my friends here have made some have digressed and it is heart breaking. I do love being here though. I was in this city for six months and when I walk around I can almost see a big awkward greeny from America walking around with his fellow red head trainer elder christiansen. I can see in retrospect the growth that I had and the love that developed for these people as I did my best to serve them. Being in a place that you know, loved, and grew in after so much time makes one think about the responsibility to continue to grow.
On a lighter note I was so excited to eat a francesinha that the second I got off the plane I found a restaurant and had one. A francesinha is a portuguese sandwhich drenched in sauce and surrounded by french fries with an egg on top that one can only find here. After eating that one the first night, I have been fed Francesinhas the next two nights as well. I have been here for three days and eaten three francesinhas and i am not even tired of them. They are that good haha.
Tomorrow I am off to Braga another city that I served in and love to visit other friends. Joseph Fielding Mckonkie, Elder Bruce R's son, is serving a mission there and taught a fireside sunday night. I drove out with some friends to see him and it was crazy how much he looked and sounded like his dad when he taught.
It is really hard to describe in words what I am feeling here. When you learn to love a place and leave, it is sometimes shocking when you come back both how much as changed, and how much hasn 't really changed at all. Many of the people that I left here are doing the same thing they were doing when I left, for some this is good and for some not so good. And yet others have experienced new joys like having a baby or horrible ones like going through a divorce. When you are living out these major changes and they happen gradually it doesnt come as quite a shock as when you see them all at once in their beauty or in their harsh reality. It makes one think...... Where do I want to be in three years? What do I need to keep consistent and what do I need to change?
I realize that this is a more serious blog than my previous one on how french people smell. But hey I can be serious. But if you got bored with my deep thoughts, don't worry I will think of something ridiculous to blog about soon.
Ryan
jeudi 21 juillet 2011
Does One Stink Because One is in France.... or Because One is French?
A compelling question is it not? It kind of has this what came first the chicken or the egg process that may drain all brain power you think you have. The fact is that people definetely stink more here. But as I have lived here for the past month I have noticed that I also stink more. I just had to spend a good minute washing my feet because I thought they smelt like French cheese. My theory is that it is a combination between the stinky french cheese, the fact that one walks everywhere, and the fact that there is no air conditioner. The french deserve a break from the rest of the world. It is not their fault that they stink. Is it our fault in America that we are generally bigger with all the fast food we have thrown in our faces? Is it a Utahn's fault that they don't know whats going on in the outside world? Of course not. And the french are not to blame for their stinkiness, its unavoidable. I mean seriously you should have just smelled my feet, it was awful.
Sadly the past week and a half I have been sick with something that I think is Bronchitis. I knew I was in trouble when I was practicing the piano at the school and I had to stop and sit in the hard chair next to the piano bench for two hours while I waited for my fever to break. Gratefully I was only truly out of comission for a couple of days and have been able to enjoy the education I am getting here and a healthy portion of a Parisian night life. Last Saturday I went to the opera and it was absolutely beautiful. It was Othello a play written by Shakesphere with music written by Verdi one of the great Italian opera geniuses. It was three hours of beautiful music and a compelling dramatic tragedy. We got student tickets and it was a fourth of the price that it usually was ( We sat seventh row 115 euro tickets for 25 euros) and it made me excited and anxious to pursue future opera opportunities in New York. It was fun listening to Italian and having to read french subtitles to keep up on what was going on. If you are contemplating going to an opera near you..... Do it! I can't promise it will be as exciting as Othello in Paris but good culture is good culture right.
And now a moment of silence for Harry Potter.... blew my mind. I won't say to much on this subject because I trust that all of you were as moved and happy as I was...... in a sad nostalgic way of course..... to see the last of the set. Bravo J.K. Rowling. Bravo.
The program here is absolutely brilliant. ( I am trying to use brilliant to sound like my friend Nicolas Little from England. What an awesome british name huh.) My head is spinning with counterpoint exercises, we get to here world class musicians perform 2-3 nights a week, and the chances to play and perform for top notch musicians are endless. Today I played a trio by Mendlesohn. Lets just say there was a looooooot of notes haha. A violin teacher who had taught chamber music at Juilliard and now teaches violin at Colburn and USC came and taught us. He was absolutely brilliant. On Saturday we have a pianist visiting I am excited to see who it is.
Well thats about it. The musical adventures continue here in good old Paris. My french is getting O.K. I would really like to come back and just have all the time in the world to study it for a month so I can get a hold on it. And yet there are those times when I close my eyes and see a land where the refills are endless, there are bathrooms everywhere, where air conditioners abound, and where people (including myself) tend to smell a bit better. And thats when I think "God Bless America, it may be fun to leave, but it always feels right to come back home.
Ryan
Sadly the past week and a half I have been sick with something that I think is Bronchitis. I knew I was in trouble when I was practicing the piano at the school and I had to stop and sit in the hard chair next to the piano bench for two hours while I waited for my fever to break. Gratefully I was only truly out of comission for a couple of days and have been able to enjoy the education I am getting here and a healthy portion of a Parisian night life. Last Saturday I went to the opera and it was absolutely beautiful. It was Othello a play written by Shakesphere with music written by Verdi one of the great Italian opera geniuses. It was three hours of beautiful music and a compelling dramatic tragedy. We got student tickets and it was a fourth of the price that it usually was ( We sat seventh row 115 euro tickets for 25 euros) and it made me excited and anxious to pursue future opera opportunities in New York. It was fun listening to Italian and having to read french subtitles to keep up on what was going on. If you are contemplating going to an opera near you..... Do it! I can't promise it will be as exciting as Othello in Paris but good culture is good culture right.
And now a moment of silence for Harry Potter.... blew my mind. I won't say to much on this subject because I trust that all of you were as moved and happy as I was...... in a sad nostalgic way of course..... to see the last of the set. Bravo J.K. Rowling. Bravo.
The program here is absolutely brilliant. ( I am trying to use brilliant to sound like my friend Nicolas Little from England. What an awesome british name huh.) My head is spinning with counterpoint exercises, we get to here world class musicians perform 2-3 nights a week, and the chances to play and perform for top notch musicians are endless. Today I played a trio by Mendlesohn. Lets just say there was a looooooot of notes haha. A violin teacher who had taught chamber music at Juilliard and now teaches violin at Colburn and USC came and taught us. He was absolutely brilliant. On Saturday we have a pianist visiting I am excited to see who it is.
Well thats about it. The musical adventures continue here in good old Paris. My french is getting O.K. I would really like to come back and just have all the time in the world to study it for a month so I can get a hold on it. And yet there are those times when I close my eyes and see a land where the refills are endless, there are bathrooms everywhere, where air conditioners abound, and where people (including myself) tend to smell a bit better. And thats when I think "God Bless America, it may be fun to leave, but it always feels right to come back home.
Ryan
vendredi 8 juillet 2011
My First Week in Paris
Where do I start. This trip started as most trips to Europe do; watching the sunrise as your plane lands and thinking to yourself, " I am ready to go to sleep.... if I am going to have a successful trip at all I am going to have to stay up for the next 14 or 15 hours." The guy who drove me and a group of other Americans coming here to study fashion for a month was from Sri Lanka, ( an island off the coast of India). He asked me my name six times and each time he would nervously look at his the paper with all of his clients name on it and say, "O.K." I thought that I would try and impress all of my new friends from the fashion world when we got in the car and tried to speak french to him. He looked in the rear view window and in broken english said, "I no undstand yu." After 40 minutes of stop and go horrible morning rush hour traffic I arrived at the Cite Universitaire.
The Cite is a huge huge huuuuge campus with no professors and no classes. It was built for the demand of housing for all the international students that come to study in Paris. ( I guess musicians aren't the only one who thought this would be a good place to study.) They have tennis courts, soccer fields, and cafeterias. You walk around this place hearing French, English, Portuguese, Spanish, German, and lots of other stuff. My roomate Joseph is a fantastic guy from New York who grew up with Rob Ostler. He is super artsy and always wants to have long philosophical discussions about what pieces of music mean or what art is. I comply because I love being nerdy like that.
The Professors here come from all over the U.S. but most are from Juilliard. Dr. Lasser is this Penguin like intellectual who struts around the stage of our class room saying things like "If Grieg had written a C instead of a B there how would this piece differ." All of the music nerds (myself included) ooh and aah when someone arrives at something we consider interesting. He kind of reminds me of Kevin Spacey in 21 with his pompous "I'm an intellectual" air which he will occasionally avert from to appeal to the crasser side of all of our minds. For instance someone asked the other day "But wouldn't that disagress with Schenkers principle of..." and then he interrupted with a sly "oh who gives a damn about Schenker," and the room of Dr. Lasser embryos chuckled. I think 21 Kevin Spacey and Dr. Lasser should go get a beer together. They would like that.
Church on Sunday was a wonderful experience. I found that when Americans are speaking french about gospel related topics it is very easy to understand. There is a fair share of Americans in the Paris Ward and there are 6 sets of missionaries! Six! For one ward! This guy got up to bear his testimony and you could almost feel the tension in the room. He was one of those guys that gets up every month and embaresses himself and makes everyone uncomfortable. He proceeded to talk about his belief in Napoleon Bonapartes ideals, read a poem that he had written, and some other stuff I didn't quite understand before the bishop put a note on the pulpit which I am sure said something along the lines of wrap it up. He did and everybody breathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness for people like that to keep things interesting.
After church this great family from Utah invited us over for dinner. The shirtliffs have been living here for a few years because of his work and they had a ton of different American members of the church over for dinner. It was a real homey Sunday dinner feel and it did the heart good to feel that familiar family spirit in a foreign country.
One of my favorite things about music festivals like this is the quality of concerts that we get to attend. Whether it is your peers or musicians that come from all over to teach master classes and perform it is spectacular and powerful. Last night Dr. Boyle accompanied this man with an amazingly beautiful baritone voice. They played song cycles by Schuman, Barber, and Dr. Boyle, and the music was awe inspiring. Afterward a man walked up to the baritone and kissed him on the mouth which left the thought in everyone's mind "Is that like a french thing....... or are those two old gay lovers." Either way its kind of weird and best not to think about.
Another thing that often accompanies shifting your bodies schedule ahead 9 hours is illness and I have had my share of that. I have had pretty bad fevers for the past little bit that have spiraled into a nasty cough. Anyway I have taken advantage of this misfortune by sleeping till 12, taking lots of tylenol, and going to the park to read A Tale of Two Cities. Reading a famous book about Paris, while one is in Paris, feels rather epic.
One thing that amazes me is the way the economy runs here. It seems to thrive on small buisnesses. Where as in the United States when one opens up a restaurant it is either going to have crazy success if it catches on, or fail. Here they are everywhere. People make their whole livelihoods off small crepe stands, little pastry shops, and other small buisness ventures. One can go get a degree of making bread and cheese here and start a buisness with little fear of it failing. It is something that Americans with our walmarts, fast food, and huge chains of convenient stores find kind of baffling. I walked around for a couple of hours tonight and saw hundreds of full cafes. The Mcdonalds were full too of course, but France is going in a direction that way that I find admirable in a lot of ways.
Well anyway one week from now at Midnight we will be watching Harry Potter 8 or 9 hours before you do. The Harry Potter craze is just as big here as anywhere. There are posters everywhere. I think that a French Harry Potter Midnight experience will certainly be memorable and might be fun to write about. Bon soir.
Ryan
The Cite is a huge huge huuuuge campus with no professors and no classes. It was built for the demand of housing for all the international students that come to study in Paris. ( I guess musicians aren't the only one who thought this would be a good place to study.) They have tennis courts, soccer fields, and cafeterias. You walk around this place hearing French, English, Portuguese, Spanish, German, and lots of other stuff. My roomate Joseph is a fantastic guy from New York who grew up with Rob Ostler. He is super artsy and always wants to have long philosophical discussions about what pieces of music mean or what art is. I comply because I love being nerdy like that.
The Professors here come from all over the U.S. but most are from Juilliard. Dr. Lasser is this Penguin like intellectual who struts around the stage of our class room saying things like "If Grieg had written a C instead of a B there how would this piece differ." All of the music nerds (myself included) ooh and aah when someone arrives at something we consider interesting. He kind of reminds me of Kevin Spacey in 21 with his pompous "I'm an intellectual" air which he will occasionally avert from to appeal to the crasser side of all of our minds. For instance someone asked the other day "But wouldn't that disagress with Schenkers principle of..." and then he interrupted with a sly "oh who gives a damn about Schenker," and the room of Dr. Lasser embryos chuckled. I think 21 Kevin Spacey and Dr. Lasser should go get a beer together. They would like that.
Church on Sunday was a wonderful experience. I found that when Americans are speaking french about gospel related topics it is very easy to understand. There is a fair share of Americans in the Paris Ward and there are 6 sets of missionaries! Six! For one ward! This guy got up to bear his testimony and you could almost feel the tension in the room. He was one of those guys that gets up every month and embaresses himself and makes everyone uncomfortable. He proceeded to talk about his belief in Napoleon Bonapartes ideals, read a poem that he had written, and some other stuff I didn't quite understand before the bishop put a note on the pulpit which I am sure said something along the lines of wrap it up. He did and everybody breathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness for people like that to keep things interesting.
After church this great family from Utah invited us over for dinner. The shirtliffs have been living here for a few years because of his work and they had a ton of different American members of the church over for dinner. It was a real homey Sunday dinner feel and it did the heart good to feel that familiar family spirit in a foreign country.
One of my favorite things about music festivals like this is the quality of concerts that we get to attend. Whether it is your peers or musicians that come from all over to teach master classes and perform it is spectacular and powerful. Last night Dr. Boyle accompanied this man with an amazingly beautiful baritone voice. They played song cycles by Schuman, Barber, and Dr. Boyle, and the music was awe inspiring. Afterward a man walked up to the baritone and kissed him on the mouth which left the thought in everyone's mind "Is that like a french thing....... or are those two old gay lovers." Either way its kind of weird and best not to think about.
Another thing that often accompanies shifting your bodies schedule ahead 9 hours is illness and I have had my share of that. I have had pretty bad fevers for the past little bit that have spiraled into a nasty cough. Anyway I have taken advantage of this misfortune by sleeping till 12, taking lots of tylenol, and going to the park to read A Tale of Two Cities. Reading a famous book about Paris, while one is in Paris, feels rather epic.
One thing that amazes me is the way the economy runs here. It seems to thrive on small buisnesses. Where as in the United States when one opens up a restaurant it is either going to have crazy success if it catches on, or fail. Here they are everywhere. People make their whole livelihoods off small crepe stands, little pastry shops, and other small buisness ventures. One can go get a degree of making bread and cheese here and start a buisness with little fear of it failing. It is something that Americans with our walmarts, fast food, and huge chains of convenient stores find kind of baffling. I walked around for a couple of hours tonight and saw hundreds of full cafes. The Mcdonalds were full too of course, but France is going in a direction that way that I find admirable in a lot of ways.
Well anyway one week from now at Midnight we will be watching Harry Potter 8 or 9 hours before you do. The Harry Potter craze is just as big here as anywhere. There are posters everywhere. I think that a French Harry Potter Midnight experience will certainly be memorable and might be fun to write about. Bon soir.
Ryan
vendredi 1 juillet 2011
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