Reason for caution

I have no idea where this artwork originated. I lifted it off a facebook photo album from Rumi Missabu, who thinks it would like fine in her living room, but worries that the movers might not be able to get it through the housedoor. Personally, I think I would be more concerned that it might start to tumesce.

A la bataille

The nimble English gunner with linstock the devilish cannon touches.

             -- Shakespeare, Henry V, II

Things Which Boston Has That San Francisco Doesn't

1.   Dunkin' Donuts,* ubiquitously.
2.   Durgin Park Restaurant.
3.   Windows with small rectangular panes of glass embedded within them.
4.   Red-brick buildings.
5.   Elm trees (Ulmus Americanus), of which there are very few left on Boston Common.
6.   Tons of college students.
7.   Charles River.
8.   Boston Public Library.
9.   Symphony Hall.
10. Jordan Hall.

*   Dunkin's Donuts are of course named after St. Dunkin of Duffnott, a corpulent Irish monk of the early tenth century who discovered that by placing a hole in the center of a pile of honey oat cakes, they could be neatly stacked. St. Dunkin is remembered also for a highly sophisticated argument for the existence of God which states that if fresh donuts and coffee exist, how could God not exist?

Boston – May 3rd

This weekend a water reservoir pipe broke in Weston which supplies water to Boston – culminating in a “boiled water order” for the entire city. What this meant practically for the intrepid tourist was that Dunkin Donuts did not serve coffee for two days, and otherwise one had to rely on bottled water. No big inconvenience, but it did occur to me that this was the first time in my 70 years in America that I had received warning that the water was not safe to drink.

In the morning I worked in Bates Hall at Boston Public Library on my book review due Thursday in San Francisco. This is the most beautiful place to read books I know of, and the BPL, which has a Venetian courtyard to read in when the weather is nice, incorporates the pleasures and responsibilities of literacy more than anywhere else I can think of.

Lunch followed at Durgin Park, and in the evening a great chamber music concert at Jordan Hall by the excellent Borromeo Quartet. They played pieces by Hugo Wolff and Gunther Schuller off laptops (Macs) mounted on music stands, which I had never seen before.

What made this trip especially rewarding was the pure joy of hearing good music inside Sanders Theatre, Symphony Hall and Jordan Hall, beautifully maintained architecture from a century or more past equipped with perfect acoustics, probably because no one built in those days with that in mind .

Back to San Francisco the following day, reading the book I was assigned to review on the airplane, after a perfect vacation.

Boston – May 2nd

Two great concerts today. First Bach’s G-major Mass at Marsh Chapel, Boston University, beautifully performed by the Chapel Choir and orchestra. There are some fine moments in this seldom-heard work, for example the fugue at the end of the Gloria at In gloria Dei Patris. I hadn’t been inside Marsh Chapel in over 50 years, and it was also satisfying to see that the place hadn’t changed in the slightest.

But the musical highlight of this trip was a Bach program at Symphony Hall with the Handel & Haydn Society directed by Harry Christophers. Two cantatas, two a cappella motets including the fiendishly difficult Singet dem Herrn ein neues Lied, a double violin concerto and the Fifth Brandenburg – in reality a trio sonata for violin, flute and harpsichord, with a string ensemble murmuring sweet nothings in the background. (It breaks for an absolutely insane, five-minute harpsichord solo extravaganza in the last movement – not really a cadenza, rather a virtuosic excursus inserted into the piece just for the sheer hell of it. What musicians those must have been at Kothen.)

The performance was absolutely flawless, in the best early music period practice, and Christophers’ direction was a revelation – he organizes Bach in larger phrases of 4-8 measures, which I’d never really heard anyone do before as effectively.

I sang with the H&H for two seasons in 1957 and 1958, when it was still a quasi- Victorian choral society. Now it is a small semi-professional chorus with a period orchestra, as good a Baroque performance ensemble as any in the world.

I was lucky enough to have a ticket in the second row center, placing me almost on stage among the musicians. Where do you get that for $35 in San Francisco!

Boston — May 1st

My second day in Boston found me hiking down Long Wharf to walk off another meal at Durgin Park, and afterwards exploring the 400 block of Beacon Street, where I lived with my parents at No. 468 from 1945 to 1947. Our redbrick apartment building, now given over to overpriced condominiums, is located almost at the corner of Mass. Ave, and Harvard Bridge is still but a stone’s throw away. Not a single one of those buildings seen in my picture above was there in 1945 -- the gold dome of the State House could be seen for miles.

Storrow Drive had not yet replaced a spacious green park that ran along the Charles to Longfellow Bridge; today about half of it remains in the area near Hatch Shell. I remember a big celebration held to celebrate the end of WW II, with fire-boats ejaculating Charles River water skywards while the Boston Pops, awash in patriotic fervor, played with inspiring vigor the Coast Guard march Semper Paratus in the Shell. This is the first music I can remember having heard, and the melody has continued to march around inside my brain ever since.

From those years I remember walking east down Mass. Ave with my Dad. At the bridge crossing over the Mass. Turnpike there were multiple train tracks, and it was great fun to hang your head over the rail as the steam locomotives passed under and shot up a huge cloud of steam and cinders. I remember the smell of the burning coal to this day.

Saturday evening was devoted to a student performance of Shakespeare’s Pericles at Adams House. I wanted to see it because it was one of the few plays by Shakespeare I hadn’t yet seen. Like most student productions the show was oddly hyperkinetic, which provoked a good-spirited and lively entertainment, but at the cost of squelching the hoped-for enjoyment of Shakespeare’s language.

Boston — April 30th

My room at the Hotel Self-Storage, known more commonly as the Huntington Avenue YMCA, proved to be quite hospitable, since it was pleasantly empty. I generally stay here when visiting Boston, because of its perfect location near the things that interest me — 31 minutes on the T to Harvard Square and 15 minutes per pedes to Copley Square or to Museum of Fine Arts, and five minutes to Symphony Hall and two minutes to Jordan Hall. And all for only $50 per night.

I went first to Durgin Park for lunch, walking east from the State House down Beacon St to Quincy Market. This restaurant, my personal favorite anywhere, due largely to the fact that it serves very traditional New England fare, the kind of stuff I grew up with — fresh cornbread with every meal, delicious fish chowder, Boston baked beans, Yankee pot roast, and Indian pudding for dessert. Durgin Park was founded in 1827 and has neither moved nor changed much since. The decor is late 1890’s American proletarian, and the menu is about the same as it was in the 19th century.

In the evening I attended Jim Marvin’s farewell concert at Sanders Theatre. Jim is retiring after 28 years' directing the Harvard choral organizations, most notably the Harvard Glee Club, in my experience the best men’s choir in the country. I’ve been a fan for 50 years. Due in large part to Jim’s commitment to early music performance, the Glee Club has turned into an altogether exceptional performing group and a unique cultural asset.

Prof. Peter Gomes, who seems to have become the University’s toastmaster general, delivered a 15-minute Festrede, and then we were off to the races with two hours or more of the finest choral music imaginable. Ostensibly a concert given to honor its director, it was more like Marvin presenting a showcase of his accomplishments over 30 years, during the course of which he has completely transformed choral music at Harvard. (If you're old enough to remember G. Wallace Woodworth and Archibald Davison, you'll know what I mean.)

You can see a YouTube interview with Jim Marvin here, and a clip of his retirement concert here, albeit it with terrible audio.

Picture of Sanders Theatre/Memorial Hall from Wikipedia, "Annenberg Hall."

Boston - April 29th

Arrived at Logan Airport late Thursday evening after an interminable American Airlines cattle-car flight from San Francisco. Amazing how they’ve made air travel a miserably annoying experience: it was like being encapsulated in an MRI tube for 5.5 hours. I suppose next they will have passengers hanging on an overhead strap like the NYC subway, and charge you an extra $100 if you want to sit down. How fondly I remember the golden era of air travel, when there was plenty of wiggle room for your legs and uniformed stewardesses would slap a free drink into your hand before you even landed in your seat.

I took the subway from Logan to Park Street, where we were tossed off the train and marched out of the underground because of a sudden electrical fire. There was a thick black of smoke hanging over Boston Common that smelled like a fire in a rubbish dump, and a couple hundred stranded subway passengers milling around at Park and Tremont Streets.

Knowing that I’d never get a taxi and that it would take hours for the MBTA to arrange relief buses, I hiked all the way from Park Street Station to the YMCA on Huntington Ave near Symphony Hall, schlepping the luggage cart I borrowed from Francesca behind me. I made it in less than an hour, and actually it was rather pleasant to shake off the forced incarceration suffered on the flight from San Francisco.