Kevin Powers' Yellow Birds

Kevin Powers' The Yellow Birds is a remarkable novel. His prose is meditative, lucid and evocative. As a word-junkie, I love his writing. I have read only a few war novels, but they cover a broad gamut: Remarque's psychological classic All Quiet on the Western Front, the poet Michael Ondaatje's The English Patient, and the big, dramatic Birdsong, by Sebastian Faulks. The Yellow Birds is written by another poet, Powers was the Michener Fellow in Poetry at the University Texas at Austin. Like Remarque, Powers is a combat veteran. He enlisted in the Army at the age of seventeen, and spent two years in Iraq as a machine gunner.

While Powers is a poet, his writing is not poetic in the way Ondaatje's novels are. His prose has a kind of mindfulness, and creates a visceral presence. The book is largely the first-person emotional journey of John Bartle, a young soldier in combat in Iraq in 2004. Powers evokes clearly and without drama, the emotions of war, many of them not very heroic: fear, relief, mental and physical exhaustion. Bartle's reflections on fear are startlingly clear and present. The story includes very little combat "action", the book's action is mainly interior.

I hesitate to mention that this is a "first novel", because those words often imply some limitation or flaw. On the contrary, this is a very accomplished novel, first or otherwise.

Christopher Beha - What Happened to Sophie Wilder

I am easily hooked by books about writing. What Happened to Sophie Wilder is a good one. Christopher Beha deals with why people write fiction, how they write, and the love of reading. But, he also digs into family, love, betrayal, and unthinkable actions. Quite unusual for young writers today, he also links all of this with one character's brief encounter with religious faith. This is done with a deft and light touch, largely from the perspective of the friends on the outside of the experience. What Happened is the story of three friends who have high artistic aspirations during college. After graduation they separate. Charlie and his cousin live the alcohol soaked life of intelligentsia-wanna-be's in NYC, and Sophie lands in an unlikely marriage. They have not yet truly found the level of achievement that they have been passionate about, and some keep trying. The human aspect of the novel really gains traction after Sophie accidentally discovers her father-in-law, who she was told was long dead. She then awkwardly cares for him in a serious illness. This material is a lot to work with, and Beha does pull it off. There are some "first novel" weaknesses, but they can be overlooked given the high challenges Beha set for himself. The ending of the book borrows from a Richard Brautigan motif, which some might find too "writers' workshop-ish", but I enjoyed. Write, read.

Nathan Larson - The Dewey Decimal System

I don't read many mystery novels. The ones that I have read have been outside the main footprint, like A Person of Interest, on which I commented in this blog. Nathan Larson's The Dewey Decimal System is way outside the box, and is great fun. It is a dystopian noir mystery set in a tottering New York City after coordinated unidentified terror attacks. Larson vividly creates the vibe of this world and the mind of the noir sort-of-hero, Dewey Decimal. He lives within a system of behaviors that he hopes will keep him sane and safe, and Larson really brings him alive. Decimal, a former soldier, works for the shady D.A. of NYC, doing odd jobs and dirty work. He runs afoul of the Eastern European mobs that dominate the city, as well as ruthless war criminals. They are playing a complex and dangerous chess game, with Decimal caught in the middle. The book does violate the classic noir code, as not everyone is dead at the end. Since a sequel was recently released, this observation is not a spoiler! Larson's writing is edgy without being overwrought, and the story moves quickly. As composer John Adams would say, it's "a short ride on a fast machine". Have some fun, get inside the head of Dewey Decimal.

Patrice Leconte: a wonderful two-fer

We recently watched two films, directed by Patrice Leconte, that are a delightful pairing. Both films have charm, grace & humor, and are perfectly cast. After a decade and a strong cup of coffee, I finally realized that their titles share a motif: "The Girl on the Bridge", 1999, and "The Man on the Train", 2002.

"The Girl" is the story of two lost souls plagued with bad luck, who discover, after some difficulty, that they have better luck together. Vanessa Paradis plays a promiscuous, devil may care 
woman and Daniel Auteuil plays a knife throwing carnie with some interesting ideas about luck and life. The young Paradis is a gap-toothed, wide-faced, not-pretty beauty, who is tailor made for this part. Auteuil perfectly brings to life the older, world weary, not quite sure of himself fast talker. They meet on a bridge in Paris when Paradis is about to jump off, and is saved by Auteuil, who needs another down-on-her-luck assistant for his act. After some success together, they part company, to their mutual regret. I have one caveats. The film opens with an odd setting, an interview of Paradis which I have always fast-forwarded through. Edit! . I would overlook this and  enjoy the rest of the film!

"The Train" also finds two people thrown together. In this case, a twinkle eyed poetry professor and a taciturn bank robber, who meet when the hood needs a room to stay in. Again, the casting is wonderful. Jean Rochefort plays the professor, who wonders if he has let too much life pass him by. He is a delight to watch. Pop singer Johnny Hallyday plays the craggy faced, mostly silent, bank robber. Yes, French pop music is horrid, but Hallyday is perfect here. The two men are great foils for one another, in demeanor and character. A scene in which Rochefort secretly tries on Hallyday's black leather jacket, and imagines himself a bank robber, is a gem. I mentioned a Richard Brautigan motif, in a recent post on Christopher Beha, which is also found in the ending(s) of "The Train". It works well. An English speaking version of the film was made in 2011, which I have not seen. Leconte's film is a treasure.

G. Willow Wilson - Alif the Unseen

Alif the Unseen wasn't quite what I expected. It is the story of an outsider Indian-Arab hacker-for-hire in a heavily censored Emirate, on the eve of it's own Arab Spring. This seemed to offer a potent mix that might lend itself to insights on spiritual and political aspects of moderate and radical Islam, and the collision with Internet technology. This is the case, to some extent. However, Alif is more likely described as a Muslim Harry Potter. It is complete with jinns, devious bad guys & secret police, innocent love interests, unlikely friendships, and a bit of Internet hacking. Wilson might have aimed Alif at young readers, so I can't say that it would be everyone's cup of tea. The book's most interesting aspect is the relationship between the structure of an ancient mystical text and a powerful new way of programming. Wilson converted to Islam while at Boston University, and moved to Cairo. There she wrote for several Western magazines, as well as the opposition weekly, Cairo Magazine. Her fiction genre before Alif was the graphic novel, often collaborating with artist M.K. Parker.

Sebastian Barry - On Canaan's Side

I recently cited Sebastian Barry as one of the greatest living writers of the English language today. I then realized that I had not posted on his books, my error. He's been long-listed and short-listed for the Man Booker Prize, but in my mind he's been short-changed. He deserved to win. This year's On Canaan's Side is vintage Barry: wonderful writing, great characters and a visceral story. It reminded me of his novel, The Secret Scripture, 2008, one of my faves of all time. Canaan is the reflections of an 89 year old woman, who fled Ireland in 1915 as a teenager with her boyfriend, on the run from the IRA. Much of the novel is the story of her hard scrabble life-in-hiding in Chicago. The most powerful passages are Barry's evocative telling of her terrors of assassins. One scene, in the Chicago Art Institute, is indelibly etched in my memory. Barry vividly evokes the heartbreaks of the Irish War of Independence, without blame or finger pointing. 

The Secret Scripture is also based on the memories of an elderly woman, entwined with the inquiries and observations of her doctor, who is trying to discover her story from long ago. This novel begins in the early 20th century, when the young woman, through no real fault of her own, runs afoul of the tough emotions and the black-and-white stances during The Troubles. It's easy to think of The Troubles in terms of Bobby Sands and the 1970-80's, but both of these stories were set 100 years ago! What a long, hard road.

Barry's writing is extraordinary. His prose is more spare than John Banville, another Irish author who I recently praised, and just as artful. I often paused and sighed at how perfectly a sentence or paragraph was turned. Like Banville, Barry never over writes. I recommend both of these novels.

John Banville - Ancient Light

Two of the best living writers of the English language today happen to be Irish: John Banville and Sebastian Barry. Banville's latest novel, Ancient Light, is the third in a loose trilogy which includes Eclipse, 2000, and Shroud, 2002. The novels share some characters, but each book easily stands on its own. The  triple-helix story and the characters in Ancient Light are compelling, but the delight to me is Banville's writing. This is not merely great word-smithing, this is high art. His prose is a gourmet meal, without ever being over written. If you love to read the written word, then you will enjoy Banville's works. Some books I read as fast as I can, but, Banville I read slowly, often re-reading paragraphs several times to savor them.

Much of the first half of the book is a retired actor's reflections on his teenage affair with the mother of a friend. I'm not that crazy about this setting, but it served as the basis for observations on a key part of all of our lives...His memories stand on very shaky footings, and it is wonderful to read his uncertainties about the scene and the events themselves. The season, time of day, the weather, people's emotions, all are often unclear or remembered in multiple ways. It's a delightful exploration of memory, especially for those of us having a similar experience with their own! The second strand of the helix is his pondering on the suicide ten years ago of his long troubled daughter. In the third, he is tapped to star in a film about a fraudulent academic, who was a key character in Shroud. Each strand is inter-woven with ease through the book. But, the real joy of this novel is Banville's art of writing. 

You might also try his Shroud and The Infinities.

SFCMF Commision - Aaron Jay Kernis

The third SFCMF commission I heard this season was written by Aaron Jay Kernis. In the Save-the-Best-For-Last tradition, this piece was extraordinary. At the pre-concert lecture, Kernis was very earnest and serious in his answers to questions from Marc Neikrug and the audience. He was always very modest. He talked about the process of composing, and the changes that have occurred in his approach over the course of his musical journey. Kernis started his answer with the words "As a young composer", stopped himself, and interjected, "I hate that phrase!" He continued by saying "As a composer in my 20's". This modesty told us so much about what a truly accomplished artist he is. In his 20s, he composed by planning the entire piece out, both mentally and in notes, including musical notation and words. Later in life he began to allow a composition to evolve and find it's own way. One approach is not better than the other, but it is an interesting topic for all of the arts. I have heard novelists speak of the same two techniques. From Kernis' examples, comments by Edward P. Jones and Michael Ondaatje come to mind. He made insightful observations about this piece, Perpetual Chaconne. First, he noted that when Marc approached him about the commission, Kernis asked that the commission be for clarinetist David Shifrin and the Orion String Quartet. The title refers to the structure of the piece which includes many repeats and internal references. He talked about how this structure has been frowned upon by academics, go Aaron! Speaking of which, he told us that the piece is largely tonal with some dissonance, which arises and recedes. I love this format in contemporary music and it works beautifully in Perpetual Chaconne. He was quite disarming as he spoke at length about the changes in his thinking on the tempi in the piece. He questioned the tempi used by both the OSQ and the Calder Quartet in La Jolla. He made minor changes and sounded pleased with both approaches.

This is a great piece of chamber music. It is complex, beautifully structured,  and has some gorgeous string passages that use the tonal/dissonance motif. This beauty comes without sentimentality, which of course gives it all the more impact. The wonderful tone of the Orion String Quartet and the superb playing of renowned clarinetist, David Shifrin, were perfect for it. The  piece was co-commissioned by La Jolla Music Society. I was able to chat with Kernis at intermission and encouraged him to seek a recording of this piece. He was accompanied by his wife and three young children, which I found delightful. I asked his son, a cellist perhaps 10 years old, how he liked his father's piece. "It's the best thing ever." I agree.

And, my thanks again to the SFCMF and their donors for all of these commissions!

SFCMF Commission - David Del Tredici

The next SFCMF commission I was able to hear this season was by David Del Tredici. First, he won everyone's hearts in the pre-concert lecture: charming, self-effacing, very articulate, modest, and funny. He was delightful. He was looking totally-NYC-high-fashion, dressed in an over-sized red jacket with sleeves rolled up, and desert boots! Steven Ovitsky introduced him as the Father of Neo-Romanticism, but what we are really talking about is, OMG, tonal music. He discussed his musical journey and how he started with the required dissonant phase, along with the 1970s academics who painfully ruled music for decades. At some point in his work, he said "I can't do this any more" and started writing...tonal music. This, of course, was scoffed at by many, since music that one would actually want to listen to was verboten.  He almost apologized for this indiscretion...but not quite. He remarked that it's harder to write tonal music, than atonal [no kidding, my comment]. He continued that tonal music will always be will be compared to other tonal composers, and put under a microscope, while atonal music won't be compared to anything. He added, "AND, in tonal music it's obvious when a note is missed or wrong." Steven Ovitsky, who is a musician, joked that missing a note wouldn't be noticed in dissonant music, and got a chuckle. Del Tredici's piece, String Quartet #2 is straight forward tonal music.  It is not remotely sentimental, nor did I find it particularly romantic, so his other music must have earned him the "neo" moniker he's received. More importantly, the piece is unabashedly tonal. It was beautifully played by the Orion String Quartet. Del Tredici can write for strings, that was clear. The piece was co-commissioned by South Mountain Concerts and dedicated to the OSQ.

SFCMF Commissions - Helen Grime

Hats off to the Santa Fe Chamber Music Festival for commissioning so much chamber music each year! Many thanks to artistic director Marc Neikrug, executive director Steven Ovitsky and the Festival's donors that make it possible. I was privileged to hear three of this summer's commisions.

Helen Grime is a 31 year old British composer who was commissioned by the SFCMF at age 29. In the pre-concert lecture Marc commented at length about her being a young composer. And, she is....young....likely with a bright future. Her piece, premiered opening night, was immature and not of the stature of most of the festival's commissions. In the pre-concert lecture she discussed the somewhat programmatic nature of Snow and Snow for Clarinet, Viola and Piano, but I did not hear it in the piece. What I did hear was a throw-back to the academic compositions we all suffered through in the 1970s, which is often the case with the SFCMF commissions. This is not "new music", it is 40 years old, and has been done over and over. Stick a fork in it, it's done! No, I am not a new-music-phobe, in fact, I have commissioned new music. Rather, I prefer not to hear a rehash of the 70s academics: cellos and woodwinds doing triplet plunks and burps, broken up by violins sliding on the finger board, veeeeeerrrrrhhhhhttt. How many times can one listen to that? It has no content, no meaning, and deconstructionism just doesn't make good music. Within that genre, Snow and Snow did not have the maturity, development and structure of many of the Festival's commissions. Headliner clarinetist, Todd Levy, did a fine performance.

Cameron and Canty

I read two novels that are not my usual cup of java: one is a period piece and one is a "place piece", for lack of a better word. But, they are worth commenting on. Both books deal with inappropriate relationships, in the sense that they are unlikely to work out. Peter Cameron's Carol Glynn is a period piece set in Britain of the 1950's. Most period pieces are set in much more distant times, which, of course, is what makes them period pieces. But, Cameron so evocatively creates the mores and language of this time, that many readers and reviewers consider it this way. The story is about three relationships that are on weak footings, and are part of a wobbly love triangle. The complexities of these relationships and the individuals slowly emerge in the story, which is vintage Cameron. There are a lot of character developments and cross currents simmering beneath a placid surface. In the end, the musical chairs exchange, although not in an arrangement that seems any more stable, which provides a satisfying close to the book. The book is written with Cameron's usual clear prose. I have read two of his other five novels, Andorra and  The City of Your Final Destination, and they are both worth considering.

Everything, by Kevin Canty, is set in contemporary Montana. The dialogue has a slight Western tone to it, not quite a dialect but pronounced, and there are loving descriptions of the landscape, and fishing. Hence, I called it a "place piece". This story is also about relationships that most likely will not thrive, this time among very independent people living in remote mountain areas.  By the close of the novel, there are no white picket fence resolutions, which feels appropriate for the story. Canty develops the characters and several relationships with empathy and without sentimentality.

Peter Carey's The Chemistry of Tears

Peter Carey's new novel, The Chemistry of Tears, is a delight. The story is filled with wonderful characters, as always. He has structured the book in a double helix twisting around a 19th century automaton. The first strand is the story of a grieving horologist, Catherine, who is a conservator at a London museum. She is given the task of restoring this extraordinary machine by her boss, who is ostensibly looking out for her well being after the death of her lover. As the story unfolds she learns how much he is directing the players, like the levers in an automaton. The second strand is the story of a 19th century father of a very ill child, who travels afar to commission the construction of this device, in hopes it will cheer his son to health. In both strands, the two protagonists encounter wildly eccentric characters who they must deal with to achieve their goals. Catherine is assigned a crazed, umm, enthusiastic, young assistant, who has ties to her boss & her former lover. Henry commissions a seemingly hallucinogenic clock maker, who launches them on a wild journey. First person chapters alternate between Catherine and the father, Henry. Catherine, while grieving, keeps us smiling with her irreverence. Henry, speaks to Catherine through a set of notebooks that he wrote on his journey, which she finds packed among the pieces of the automaton. In some chapters, the two voices are mixed together. Their goals and trials are linked over the distance of 150 years. Carey fills both stories with detail about complex automata, their construction and conservation, of course, all tied to the human beings involved. It's a lark of a fast read.

Hitchcock meets The Passenger in Denmark

I am finding that the best film making on the planet is being done in Denmark. One of my faves is director Susanne Bier, about whom I did a post recently. Today I watched an accomplished film by a less well known Danish director, Ole Bornedal. I strongly recommend his Just Another Love Story, from 2007. This is a great Hitchcockian tale & plot development: a fairly normal middle class family man goes sideways and gradually finds himself in deeper and deeper hot water. Anders Berthelsen plays this man who is unhappy with his happy life, and through some quirks of fate, assumes the identity of another man...in a big tip of the hat to Antonioni's The Passenger. In true Hitchcock style, he slowly gets more immersed in this stream of events, and loses more and more control. Likewise, the tension builds very slowly, from family dinners to white knuckle scenes. There is a plot twist towards the end that is absent in The Passenger and significantly adds  to the dramatic development. I won't say anything further, to avoid a spoiler. The bad guy is truly menacing, well played by the Danish character actor Nikolaj Lie Kaas. There is some wonderful cinematography by Dan Lausten, that supports the plot and is sometimes beautiful. Yes, you can stream a good copy on Netflix.

Where the Quantum Series Started

In January and February I was burnt out on the compositional complexity of my pieces done in 2011. So, I collapsed the elements down to something much more simple. Here are four paintings that I conceived as a set. Multiple coats of glaze give the layers of paint and images a greater sense of depth. The individual paintings were done on 8 X 8 inch panels, 1 5/8 inch deep.

New Palette for Quantum Series

Quantum Field #4, with a new palette and a different twist to the gold. 12 X 12 inch wood panel, 1 5/8 inches deep.

New Paintings Summer 2012

I started a new series of paintings using my recent elements in a new way. The backgrounds remain the same: spreadsheets, Tibetan script, Sanskrit and music. Is art autobiographical? I cover these with layers of acrylic paint which still reveal the underlying images. Small gold stripes float on top of this. They are translucent and sometimes reflective, depending on the light and your vantage point. So, these paintings are constantly changing as you move around them. What the heck, let's call them "Quantum Field". Here's Number 3, 10 X 10 inches on a wood panel, 1 5/8 inch deep. Number 1 and 2 are use a similar palette, 8X8 on panel. Number 4, in progress, has a different color scheme, stay tuned.

They Eat Puppies Don't They?

A funny title for a very funny satire of one of the planet's biggest issues today: US-China relations, or should I say, China-US relations. This is the first book by Christopher Buckley that I've read and it is a hoot. No one is spared here: the military-industrial complex, CIA, NSA, Communist Chinese leadership, Chinese propagandists and US public relations spinners all get sliced. Buckley develops characters that are perfect for their political roles, and are often laugh out loud. The book touches now and then on the brutality of the Communist Chinese Party, their Public Security Forces and military, and the atrocious labor conditions in the Workers' Paradise. One key character says to her Chinese counterpart in a TV interview, "I see another miserable worker in Guangdong hurled herself off the roof yesterday. What's the death total for that factory now?" (She's of course referring to the notorious Foxconn factories that manufacture every iPhone, iPod, & iPad on the planet. But, what the heck, the prices are great!) An important conceit of the story is an illness of H.H. The Dalai Lama, so thankfully, the book also refers to the Communist Chinese' horrid oppression of the Tibetan people. I wish there had been more of the tough stuff, but it is, after all, a satire and there are laughs in abundance. 

The Vanishers & 2 Reminds Me

Heidi Julavits' The Vanishers is a fun, romp of a book built on top of some big issues. Its tone reminds me of The End of Mr. Y by Scarlett Thomas, minus the 19th century philosopher/scientists. So, get ready to suspend disbelief or belief or both, and have fun. This book has been described as a psychic mystery, true enough. The protagonist, Julia, is a young psychic hired to find a radically avant-guard film maker, who coincidentally knew Julia's mother at the time of her death.  Julavits uses this story to dig deeply into mothers, fathers, daughters, communication, grief, loss, suicide. It has a complex set of lively characters & relationships. But, don't despair, it is written with a very light touch and wit, and is often quite funny. In fact, Julavits'  writing style reminds me of Vendela Vida, whose work I enjoy very much. Vida's writing often has a musical phrasing: three sentences will set up a fourth that is a clever zinger. I learned in the acknowledgments that they are co-editors of the literary magazine The Believers.

36 Arguments for the Existence of God

Several years ago, I read and enjoyed Rebecca Newberger Goldstein's The Properties of Light: A Novel of Love, Betrayal and Quantum Physics, and more recently heard her give a wonderful lecture on Spinoza at the Santa Fe Institute, please see my post of 12/6/2011. She topped both of these with her extraordinary 2010 novel, 36 Arguments for the Existence of God: A Work of Fiction. It is a novel of big Ideas: religion, philosophy, love, parents/family, loyalty.    It is also very well written, with great word-smithing, and at moments extremely funny. 36 is chock full of clever one liners that had me howling. I know, yes, yes, I'm a word-nerd, but this is genuinely good stuff! The characters are wonderful, and perfectly developed. The man in the middle of all this is a philosophy professor with an unexpected best seller, The Varieties of Religious Illusion. The characters orbiting him are well conceived and delightful: his mentor a messianic literary scholar, his wild former girlfriend the anthropologist, his current love the master of game theory, and a child prodigy mathematician who is heir to lead the Hasidic community where our hero grew up. Never have so many grand ideas been so much fun. Read it!

Irma Voth and The Forgotten Waltz: Two Voices

I read two novels both written in the voice of a young woman, and these very different voices are wonderfully evoked by the authors. In Anne Enright's The Forgotten Waltz a 33 year old Irish woman careens through marriage and an affair with a married man, in which there is precious little romance. Enright's prose perfectly captures the voice and world-view of this woman: the carelessness, her disregard of consequences. There's not much more of a tale here, but the voice is the heart of the matter.  Miriam Toews' Irma Voth is a more substantial story of a late-teen woman who leaves her Mennonite family in rural Mexico, with two much younger sisters, to escape the repression of their father. There is an fertile conceit of a filmmaker who employs Irma as a translator on his film about a Mennonite couple. Events revealed towards the end of the novel add a layer of deep reflection for her. Irma is quite uneducated in books and the world. Toews perfectly captures this very different voice: the uncertainty, the other-worldiness, the complete unawareness of modern life. First person novels can be a risky business, but Toews  and Enright have both nailed it.

The Map and the Territory - Houellebecq

When people recommend books or films, they often add a caveat. "It's hard work, dark, not really fun, but read it because it's good, like taking cod liver oil." With The Map and the Territory, there's no caveat: it's a substantial book and a great read. This is the first novel by Michel Houellebecq that I have read. I understand that he was considered a real l'enfant terrible, but I'm not familiar with this. His early books apparently were marinated in explicit sex, but there is not a single kiss in this one. So, I read it with no expectations, but either way I strongly recommend it.


The story is about a painter, his life and artistic journey. But, the book is about Art, Architecture, Friendship, Fathers-and-sons, Aging, and is chock full of wonderful insights on all of these topics. If I have one small qualm it is about the use of a conceit that has been frequently seen in novels over the past decade: the painter meets a famous author...Michel  Houellebecq . However, a plot twist at the end of the novel adds an intriguing aspect to this. The Map and the Territory has great writing, is well translated, and explores cultural & human issues of importance. And...it's fun to read.

Indie Piano Films: Four Minutes

I'm a fan of dark, indie films about playing the piano. My top pick has recently changed. To qualify: no big-name actors, low budget, no big-name producer. That means The Piano and The Piano Teacher are eliminated right out of the box. Holly Hunter and Isabelle Huppert are way too big! My top ranked indie for some time had been The Beat That My Heart Skipped, directed by Jacques Audiard, in 2005. Romain Duris stars as an aspiring pianist who is slowly tugged into a questionable line of business and the world of his small-time-crook father.  It's a tough and dark place that he inhabits. Let's get even darker.... Four Minutes, directed Chris Kraus in 2006, has knocked Heart Skipped out of the top spot! We have a double-helix of trouble here. Monica Bleibtru does a fantastic job playing an elderly piano teacher who works in a prison. She is incredibly strict, passionate about music, and tortured by memories of her youth in Nazi Germany. Her rebellious and violent student is in the slammer for murder and was a child prodigy. She is well played by Hannah Herzsprung. Kraus does a fantastic job with the development of their relationship, and their mutual relationship with music. There is some fun, kick-ass piano playing in the film.


TRIVIA: Yes, Monica is mother of Moritz Bleibtru, a German indie character actor. They both appeared in Tom Tykwer's early hit, Run Lola Run.

New Year's Day Labyrinth

Every year on New Year's Day, and one week later on my birthday, I walk a labyrinth. I do this for two reasons: to consciously set aside habits and emotions that I'd like to leave behind, and to set intentions for the new year. Today, Debbie & I walked the labyrinth at Milner Plaza next to the International Folk Art Museum in Santa Fe.

Labyrinths have a long history, going back to ancient Greece and around the world. Formal walking meditation in a labyrinth harks back to medieval Europe. It was used as a symbolic pilgrimage. Today the labyrinth has become a metaphor of personal growth and change. People often use them at inflection points in their lives, to seek guidance and mark change. This is facilitated by the structure of the labyrinth, which is a wonderful symbol for life. First of all, there are no wrong turns. Once you take a step on this path, you will reach the center, if you keep going. However, at times, it seems that you are not making progress... At first you might be moving forward and then you will be going the opposite direction. Next, you will be walking close to the center and then find yourself back at the outer rim. We go forward and backwards, left and right, but no step is wasted, and each step is necessary to reach the goal. How like the path we all have tread in life. You can use the labyrinth to seek guidance, to do a walking meditation or to just enjoy the day.

Claire Huangci Rocks Prok 3

My favorite work for piano and orchestra is Prokofiev's Concerto #3. Sergei was, of course, a monster pianist, and this piece is lively, clever, fiendishly difficult, and often just plain fun. If you are looking for Russian angst, it is thankfully absent! The Santa Fe Concert Association Orchestra performed this on New Year's Eve and 21 year old pianist Claire Huangci absolutely nailed it. She displayed extraordinary facility & technique, combined with mature artistry. She flew gracefully through lightning fast passages, and powered out in the big ones. She made my fave come alive. Happy New Year, Claire, we will keep an eye and ear out for you!

Bookends now a Triangle

Reading novels is a passion of mine. I read 43 novels in 2011. Rarely have I encountered a sequence of readings that quite accidentally link neatly together, like has just happened. The bookends I talked about in the previous posting is now a triangle. The bookends were Luminous Airplanes, a coming of age story, and I Married You for Happiness, a reflection on years of marriage. I just finished the Man Booker winner, A Sense of an Ending by Julian Barnes, which created the triangle. The first half of this book looks back on a young man's years in college & a close circle of friends. In the second half of the book, a diary left in a will triggers an interaction between the protagonist and a college girlfriend, from a vantage point 45 years later. In addition to a very good story, it explores how unreliable memory can be. The book has delightful characters & wonderful writing. In Barnes' novel we have another coming of age story, this time in arrears, and another reflection on a life, this time with an examination of memory in life. The triangle is complete.