Autumn and Alphorns

Autumn is here.

A visit to Zurich recently was happily characterised by beautiful weather, almost an Indian summer for few days. Warm enough to sit outdoors along the Limmat for lunch of aperitif, to take coffee in the squares of the Old Town, to stroll the banks of the canals. Being a bit more northerly than Italy, the autumn colours were in full swing, bringing vibrant colours to the old streets, church squares and river banks. Here's a short photo journal to share the Zurich autumn experience.

And the Alphorns? I can across a random street concert by a group of Alphorn players. Though they crop up in concerts and presentations these days, these very long horns originated as communication devices -- hooting across the Alpine valleys of Switzerland. However, the horn uses natural harmonics, and has attracted the efforts of composers and music makers. Wiki tells us:

In the hands of a skilled composer or arranger, the natural harmonics can be used to haunting melancholy effect or, by contrast, to create a charming pastoral flavour, as in the lilting "Ranz des Vaches" and works by Brahms, Rossini, and Britten... musicians drawn to the alphorn and other instruments that sound the natural harmonics, such as the natural horn, consider the notes of the natural harmonic series — particularly the 7th and 11th harmonics — to be God's Notes, the remainder of the chromatic scale enabled by keys, valves, slides and other methods of changing the qualities of the simple open pipe being an artifact of mere mortals.

I couldn't say that the Alphorn players I came across in Zurich were making "God's music", but it was entertaining.

What people do in Zurich on a warm November morning.

Villa Rufolo

A tragic site?

A tragedy in 1283

At the end of June in the year 1283, things were not going well for a certain rich family from Ravello. Lorenzo Rufolo was beheaded at the Castel dell-Ovo in Naples, on the order of the Angevin prince Charles II. His father Matteo Rufolo was  in prison, the family riches were confiscated, and several other members of the family sentenced to death. The charges against them - some say trumped up, and never proven - included extortion, treason, exporting wheat to the detriment of the king, and extending favours to the Aragonese in the  war of the Sicilian vespers.

In truth, the problem for the Rufolo family was that it was very rich and powerful, and had backed the loser in the battle at Benevento that saw Charles d’Anjou, ally of Pope Martin IV, defeat and kill Manfred, son of the popular Norman-Swabian ruler Frederico II, in 1266.

Villa Rufolo: a hidden corner.

In the following years the Rufolo family tried their best to switch sides to the victor. They swore allegiance to the new king, and altered their coat-of-arms to add three lilies, the symbol of the Anjous. But the matriarch of the family, Sigilgaida, was of Norman descent - she was from the equally powerful della Marra family. She married Nicòla Rufolo - they were the parents of Matteo and the grandparents of the unfortunate Lorenzo. 

The della Marra family had followed the Norman kings south, settling in 1076 in Ravello on the Amalfi Coast. By this time, the strength of the Amalfi Maritime Republic was beginning to wane. The Norman family built a stronghold high on the ridge in Ravello, part fortress to keep an eye on the Amalfitani, part noblemen’s home. The della Marras also spread to Puglia, to the towns of Barletta and Trani, where the Swabian kings held sway. 

Between them, the Rufolo and della Marra families controlled customs and castles, and had real power, both economic and military. They were responsible for the accountancy of the kingdom as well as for strongholds in Ravello, Maranon, Puglia and Calabria. At one point, in 1275, Matteo Rufolo, along with seven other Ravello families who had loaned money to king Charles I d’Anjou, was entrusted with the Royal Crown as a pledge for the debt. They were, it seems, too powerful to last.

Torre Maggiore

Villa Rufolo

One of the pieces of property that fell from the grasp of the Rufolo family when their dynasty was struck down was the enigmatic Villa Rufolo in Ravello. It was to the east of the Cathedral and Bishop’s Palace in Ravello, and the della Marra fortress stood to the south west. 

Villa Rufolo continues to stand today, almost one thousand years old, changed, rebuilt and adapted through the many hands which have held it since Lorenzo’s day. The original building was a synthesis of Arabic, Sicilian and Norman architecture. In the 18th century cloisters were added, in the 19th century Romantic gardens that charmed Richard Wagner. Today it’s the home of the famous Ravello Music Festival and of the Centro Universitario Europeo per i Beni Culturali.

Art and architecture

Villa Rufolo is probably the last example of secular Norman Islamic architecture in Southern Italy. It’s covered with Islamic artistic symbols, decorated with arabesques. It bears many resemblances to the Norman churches in Palermo in Sicily. A local historian, Alessio Amato, points out that Sigilgaida Rufolo’s Norman heritage lived on through the years of Angevin rule through subtle architectural and artistic displays in Ravello, despite the Rufolo pledge of allegiance to the new kings. 

Il Chiostro in Villa Rufolo.

Not only is there the Norman Islamic architecture of the Villa. In 1272 Nicòla and Sigilgaida donated a pulpit to the Ravello Cathedral - it’s still there. It’s a fusion of Byzantine and Islamic techniques, Puglian and Campanian artistry, tastes deriving from the Norman-Swabian king Frederico II. The artist employed by the Rufolos to make the pulpit was Nicola da Foggia, an artist of the Frederican school with ties through his father to Frederico II. 

Also installed in the Cathedral was a sculpted bust of Sigilgaida herself, crowned with a royal diadem, which (until a 1973 restoration moved it) used to be positioned over the door leading to the pulpit - so the bishop had to pass under this vision of Sigilgaida before reading the Scriptures. As Allession Amato says in his small booklet “Secrets of Villa Rufolo”:

“Art has always expressed thought and, above all, in antiquity, in periods of great battles, of political, economic and social upheavals, certainly was depicted in tangible artifacts. Families would demonstrate their identity and political allegiances through art and decorations.”

Shadows of the past. Villa Rufolo.

A tour of the Villa

Today, you might choose to visit Villa Rufolo for a concert on the outdoor belvedere in the summer; or to walk through the 19th century Romantic-style gardens established by the Scotsman Neville Reid who rescued the Villa in the 19th century.

You would begin by walking from the piazza in front of the Ravello Cathedral through the Torre d’Ingresso, a crumbling stone structure that dominates the east side of the piazza. It has always been purely decorative, with a ribbed dome and arabesques in polychrome stones and terracotta. 

A stroll down a long avenue of cyprus and lime trees brings you to il Chiostro, the cloister, self-evidently Moorish in style -- twin columns, pointed arches, friezes and arabesques. Turning into the courtyard on your left you’ll find it dominated by the Torre Maggiore, three stories high and the oldest extant part of the Villa. 

19th century gardens.

Beyond the tower the 19th century gardens begin, studied informality, flower beds, pergolas, walks and hidden seats, fountains and vines. Here, Richard Wagner (visiting in May 1880) is said to have found the inspiration to complete the second act of his last opera, ‘Parsifal’, exclaiming that he’d found ‘the magical garden of Klingsor.’ This has to be the most-repeated off-hand comment in history. The whole of the Ravello Music Festival has, since the 1950s, been based on this moment of inspiration - the Festival is dedicated to Wagner and always features a concert of his music.

In the corner of the garden is one of my favourite structure on the site - the so-called Sala dei Cavalieri, or Hall of the Knights. It’s a round pavilion, walls decorated in arabesques, and its roof long since collapsed. No-one has any idea what it was really used for - the name was bestowed much later.

Beyond the gardens is the famous Ravello panorama - difficult to beat. The concert platform, the belvedere, juts out into space over the terraces of Ravello falling away to the sea and the distant mountains. It’s put up each summer, and taken down for the winter. Under the belvedere, you may explore some very ancient parts of the Villa, including an Arabic Bathhouse - a hammam of sorts - the Bagno Turco; the cellars; and a space known as the Sala da Pranza, or dining room, with a cross-vaulted roof and columns supported by odd groups of pillars. 

La Sala dei Cavalieri.

It's dome long since gone...

Visitors

Richard Wagner was not the first artist to be inspired by the Villa Rufolo. In 1327 Giovanni Boccaccio was a guest of the Angevins in Naples and apparently heard the story of Lorenzo Rufolo. The fourth of his famous set of ten stories, ‘The Decameron’, concerns a character named Landolfo Rufolo, and is thought to be loosely based on the real-life tragedy. 

La Sala da Pranza.

In March 1713 an earthquake caused much damage to the Villa, and it probably would be no longer standing in any form if it were not discovered and rescued by Francis Neville Reid, a Scotsman living in Naples in 1851. He was a botanist, a Freemason and a scholar, and is responsible for much of what we see today at Villa Rufolo - along with the master-builder he employed to revive the buildings: Michele Ruggiero, chief foreman of the excavations at Pompeii. Ruggiero also later restored the pulpit in the Ravello Cathedral. 

Since Wagner’s day, the Villa has been visited by the likes of D H Lawrence, Jacqueline Kennedy, Hillary Clinton, and Gore Vidal (who lived in Ravello for many years). 

And me. I can recommend it. As you’re strolling in the cloister or the Sala Dei Cavaliere, don’t forget to spare a thought for Lorenzo Rufolo and his fate in 1283.

And then you can stop for refreshments at 'Bar Klingsor' on the piazza. 

Ravello.

Acknowledgement: Much of this information comes from Alessio Amato's small booklet, "Secrets of Villa Rufolo"

Amalfi The Musical

Would you trust this man to put on a good show?

On arrival...

Amalfi Musical. It could have been a touristic piece of rubbish, but in fact it was a a well-performed, professional and enjoyable night at the theatre - or rather, in the ancient Arsenale of Amalfi, the stone vaults that used to be ship-building yards in the time of the medieval maritime republic. So bravi to all concerned - particularly the writer, director, costume designer, and - on the night I was there - leading man of the show, Ario Avecone.

Check out the company's website here; including a video taste of the show.

Yes, in Amalfi you can go to live theatre, and it can be good - based (possibly a bit loosely) on history, the story set in the year 839, as the republic of Amalfi struggles under the thumb of a Lombard tyrant. Interwoven is a whole lot of fiction about a love story, treachery and a dashing rescue -- it's all charmingly Italian: dramatic, full of arguments and soppy amore, fine looking clothes, handsome people, and lots of singing. What more could you ask?

The stone vaults of the Arsenale - a museum in the day time - were filled with fake smoke, the uplights giving dramatic flair to the stone walls. The action takes place on two small stages at each end of the long gallery, and on the flagstones in between. 'A fully immersive experience!' the advertising promised -- and indeed it was, when the dastardly Lombard tyrant died realistically at my feet.

The show is spoken and sung in Italian, with surtitles on screens in a couple of languages. I must say that the music - lyrics and music original, written by Ario Avecone - is surprisingly good, though presented a little over-amplified (like most musicals). The English surtitles could use a little tidying up, but it was easy enough to follow the simple story. I was impressed by the actors/singers -- all excellent professionals; and their sumptuous historical costumes were very well done.

I've mentioned Ario Avecone, who played the lead 'Antonio' the night I attended the performance. But the whole cast are a pretty impressive lot. Check them out here. (You can also see them sometimes around town, selling tickets to the show in their costumes.)

As the website claims, rather floridly:

From the union of the past with the present and the joining of history with musical theatre Amalfi® is created. A modern, folkloristic musical based on the intriguing history of Amalfi  and real events which have taken place over the centuries. Only a magical place can tell the emotional story of entanglements of love, war and passion, that the thousand- year- old rocks hide and protect from the consuming wind of time. It is the year 1000, close your eyes and breathe in the scent of the ancient rocks, whilst listening to the sound of the great masters of carpentry at work in Amalfi. You are in the dockyard of the Republic, the gateway to a journey through time that Amalfi can offer. This is where you will experience the opera Amalfi Musical Show®. Taken from real historical events, Amalfi Musical Show® gives a new  theatrical interpretation of the birth of the great Amalfi Republic. Antonio and Giovanna, their love, the wicked Sicardo’s hatred, court intrigues, all in one spectacular production of Saracen invasions and high treason. The play will alternate rapid emotions with power games and spectacular battle scenes, where the music will move you and excite you.

You can check out Ario Avecone on FaceBook here and his MySpace page here.

A good night out at the, er, ancient shipyard...





Some images from the show's website.

Visiting the Sixteenth Century

Palazzo Barberini (source)

Beatrice Cenci - Guido Reni 

In the year 1599 a fourteen year old girl named Beatrice Cenci was beheaded in Rome was beheaded on the Pont Sant’Angelo for the crime of murdering her father. Actually, some sources say she was 22, and that her family did most of the bludgeoning - they were executed too. But what is agreed is that the father was a monster and deserved it. Pope Clemente VIII also took the opportunity to swipe the family’s riches. Beatrice has gone down in history and legend as something of a martyr. She looks rather sadly over her shoulder at us from a painting by Guido Reni. In 1819 Percy Bysshe Shelley composed a long poem about her, after seeing the Reni portrait in Rome.

It presently hangs in the Italian National Art Collection, housed in the monolithic Palazzo Barberini, a palazzo bedecked with bees, the symbol of the Barberini family. One salon along, there is a vivid painting by Caravaggio of 'Judith Beheading Holofernes', capturing the moment when life leaves the body of the ghastly giant, beheaded by the brave Judith to save her people from the enemy. It was painted in 1599, and some say it’s rather awful accuracy was inspired by Caravaggio’s witnessing of the beheading of Beatrice.

'Judith Beheading Holofernes' - Caravaggio

'La Fornarina' - Raphael

But the sixteenth century wasn’t all brutality. A couple of salons and a few decades back, hangs 'La Fornarina'. She sits, Mona Lisa - like, contemplating us, half naked but wearing an elaborate headdress, and a golden bracelet around her upper arm inscribed with the name of her, er, portraitist. Make of that what you will. It was painted in about 1520, which was the year that Raphael died. La Fornarina (which means ‘bakeress’) is said to be Margherita Luti, and it’s also said that upon Raphael’s death, she heads into a nunnery.
Rafael’s gorgeous portrait of his mistress, known as

The Palazzo Barberini itself began as a palazzetto of the Sforza family in the sixteenth century, but was built into a huge mansion in the seventeenth, on the commission of Pope Urban VIII, who was Maffeo Barberini. The architect Carlo Maderno worked on the project, and those two great architectural rivals, Borromini and Bernini took over from him. There’s a great squared staircase at one end of the building that’s the work of Bernini; and a delicate spiralling one at the other end that’s the work of Borromini.

In its current role as the home of the Italian National Art Collection, Palazzo Barberini houses, as you can imagine, many treasures from across the centuries. I have to mention that they have Holbein’s amazing portrait of Henry VIII, for example, some exquisite early Lippi pieces, Poussin landscapes, Bernini paintings, some El Grecos, a lovely selection of those fine Dutch portraits, and - in the Salon da Cortona, a quite extraordinary ceiling.

The Cortona Ceiling (source)

I recommend visiting, as I did, in the company of an enthusiastic young art historian who can fill you in on the gossip behind the best works; and a three-piece musical ensemble  - from Romaoperaomnia - who can charm you with a little period music on period instruments, as you sit and contemplate Raphael, Caravaggio and poor Beatrice Cenci. A lute, a flute and a soprano, and you’re back in the sixteenth century. The good bit.

A Barnerini Bee.

Tuxedo Junction

“The World Famous Glenn Miller Orchestra” ® (source)

The concert at the Ravello Festival, on the beautiful outdoor belvedere at Villa Rufolo with views along the spectacular Amalfi Coast, was billed as “The World Famous Glenn Miller Orchestra” ® Now, Glenn Miller was in his heyday as an American big band leader in the 1930s and 1940s, and in fact died tragically young (40) in 1944 when a plane crossing the English Channel during war time was lost. He was leading his band in entertaining the troops at that time.

So who exactly would we see on the belvedere in Ravello? The look was 1940s, the tuxedos had satin lapels, there were bow ties, handkerchiefs peeking from breast pockets, the band leader wore a white jacket, and there was a girl singer in a stunning evening dress. 

The music began: ‘Moonlight Serenade’, ‘Shiny Stockings’, ‘Little Brown Jug’ -- yes, it sounded remarkably like Glenn Miller’s Orchestra. When the band leader paused proceedings to introduce himself, he turned out to have an unintentionally funny Dutch accent. He was Wil Salden. As the evening progressed and various performers were introduced, it seemed that what we had here was a band of Dutchmen playing American music - playing it very well, in fact. But was this a tribute band?

Fortunately, there was a program, and I purchased one for a very reasonable €3. It was money well spent. I learnt that after the sad and unexpected demise of Glenn Miller, his band played on. And on and on, under a variety of leaders over the years, and the astute management of something called Glenn Miller Productions, Inc. In 1990, this company, presumably the official keeper of the Glenn Miller legacy, appointed Dutchman Wil Salden to be “leader of the Glen Miller Orchestra for Europe”. So - the franchise made a territorial expansion. And ever since then, Wil has been tirelessly travelling his band across the face of western and eastern Europe, and even venturing deep into Russia, playing up to 200 concerts per year - though they’ve slowed down now to only 150 -160, since travel time has increased. On night trains and in hired coaches, they criss-cross Europe. Obviously performers come and go - counting the singer, there are 16 members of the troupe - but Wil guides them indefatigably on.

The stage awaits at the Ravello Festival

For performers with such a gruelling schedule, I must say that they are consummate pros. They play vividly and authentically, and appeared to enjoy themselves (especially Wil). He plays the piano and sings; there’s a drummer and double bass player, then four trumpets, four trombones, and five saxophonists, two of whom double as clarinetists, and one who takes up the baritone sax at times. Various brass players also join the girl singer and Wi from time to time, forming a vocal quintet. 

Interestingly, Wil does his best to actually replicate the Glenn Miller ‘sound’. He appears to be a close student of the Swing genre, and says in the program:

“With us, as with Glenn Miller, the clarinet plays the lead and is accompanied an octave lower by the second tenor saxophone. The accompaniment, played by two alto saxophones and the first tenor saxophone, stays within the octave between the clarinet and the second tenor saxophone. Since the lead clarinet dominates the alto saxophone, the saxophone seems half an octave higher...”

I give you this interesting quote to illustrate Wil’s passion for having his band sound as close as possible to the original. He claims that radio stations often prefer to play his band’s recordings of the old numbers because they sound authentically like the originals but are much better quality, being modern recordings. 

So in a way, Wil’s band is both a descendant of the original Glenn Miller orchestra, and a very special tribute band.

“Swing, Brother, Swing!”

Swing music is danceable and hum-along-able; it’s joyous and catchy. It’s a close sister to Jazz, but a fusion of different Jazz styles, and somewhat more ‘white’. It was popular from the 1920s through to the end WWII, and one feature of Swing was the formation of “Big Bands” based on lots of brass players. From the program:

“Swing describes the style of Jazz in the thirties...On one of his albums in the late twenties, Louis Armstrong told his musicians to “Swing, Brother, Swing!” and so he gave the style a name. In 1928/29, a new way of playing developed in Harlem and particularly in Kansas. When this new style got together with the music of Chicago and New Orleans, Swing was created. It then spread along the road of historic Jazz to New York.”

I was interested to learn that ‘Swing’ had a special resonance in Germany during the inter-war years, since the ‘Jazz’ was banned by the National Socialists as ‘corrupted music’. A European overlay on Jazz added some “white precision” that “took away some of Jazz’s expressionism but gave it a clear European, singable sound that was accepted by a wide public.”

'Somewhere Over The Rainbow’

But back to Glenn Miller, who took the Swing scene by storm from humble beginnings to broadcasting and concert success across America. He was one of the country’s favourite band leaders when he enlisted in the army and flew to his fate. ‘Moonlight Serenade’ is considered his signature tune; but there are lots of others you’ll know, and possibly love. In the Ravello concert we were treated to great renditions of favourites from the Big Band era: ‘American Patrol’, ‘Ain’t We Got Fun’, ‘Somewhere Over The Rainbow’, ‘Cheek to Cheek’, ‘Don’t Sit Under The Apple Tree’, ‘Pennsylvania 6-5000’, ‘In The Mood’, ‘Chattanooga Choo Choo’, and - of course - ‘Tuxedo Junction’.

The original.....

And today....

Popera - 'O sole mio!

Il Volo: Piero, Gianluca & Ignazio (source)

The Amalfi Cross

There's a small town up in the mountains above the Amalfi Coast named Scala, which is one of the oldest settlements here. It boasts the oldest church on the Coast (Duomo San Lorenzo), a lot of chestnut trees, and a history as the departure point for the monk, Frà Gerardo Sasso, who went to Malta and founded the Jerusalem Hospital Order in the 11th century (which was later to become the Order of the Knights of Malta - trivia: that's why the Maltese Cross is so similar to the Cross of the Republic of Amalfi). On most days, Scala is a sleepy little outpost, but sometimes exciting things can happen there.


One evening last week, for example, the sound of music carried across the valley to the next-door town of Ravello where I was just finishing the best Pizza in the World (da Salvatore, Ravello - make a note). Further investigation, involving driving the short distance to Scala, found the entire village enjoying a concert in their small piazza - a stage, lighting, a sound system, the RAI television people; and Il Volo, three young men with astonishing voices and a taste for musical classics. This was a find -- a free concert by a trio that tours the world, has a huge recording contract, and causes Italian grandmothers to swoon incessantly.

Not only did I get to hear the ragazzi sing, I was also treated to the delightful sight of the village priest (who, it seems, has always been involved with Assisi and the Francescans and now, courtesy of the new Papa Francesco, finds himself IN with the Vatican), in his cassock and collar, up on stage with the mayor, the three singers, and a very buxom television presenter in six-inch pink heels, all singing 'O Sole Mio' along with the crowd.

Perfecting casual but sexy: Il Volo (source)

Il Volo's repertoire includes many traditional Italian favourites plus some contemporary songs, all sung in that style which has become known as 'popera' or operatic pop -- with the vocal range and style of opera but accessible to everyone, old favourites belted out in fine voices. Popera voices are generally not quite like those of trained opera singers - if they were, they wouldn't need amplification, for one thing - but popera singers bring the style to many people who wouldn't usually follow opera, and the audiences go mad for it. Think Andrea Bocelli, Sarah Brightman, Susan Boyle -- and what's not to like?

Il Volo is a trio of Italian operatic pop singers: tenors Piero Barone (b 1993) and Ignazio Boschetto (b 1994), and baritone Gianluca Ginoble (b 1995). They began singing together after a RAI television talent contest, in 2009. Yes, check those birthdates - they are very young. They are also very successful (and well-managed), with two top-selling albums, an appearance on 'American Idol' that launched an international career, and a tour of the US underway soon -- right after Scala, perhaps! Placido Domingo collaborated on one track of their recent album - at the behest, it's said, of his grandson, who is a die-hard Il Volo fan.

The boys were all born in Italy, two raised in Sicily. Judging by the fan comments on their website there's many an Italian nonna who loves to listen to them -- and also give a  little grandmotherly advice, of course:

"I absolutely love your music I am a happy grandmother of 7, great-grandmother of 3&1/2. My youngest granddaughter (4) has listened to your music so much she can tell me who is singing without looking at the tv. Please continue as you are and don't get mixed up in the bad stuff." 

At the end of competition when they first met, the three singers were chosen to perform, as a trio, the Neapolitan classic "’O sole mio". It's become their signature tune, and they do a spectacular job. You might like to be about the 10 millionth person to listen to this YouTube clip:



And if you'd enjoy singing along, like the citizenry of Scala on that night last week, here are the lyrics: (the original language is the Neapolitan dialect, not Italian).

Neapolitan lyrics
Che bella cosa è na jurnata ’e sole,
n’aria serena doppo na tempesta!
Pe’ ll’aria fresca para già na festa...
Che bella cosa na jurnata ’e sole.
Ma n’atu sole cchiù bello, oi ne’,
’o sole mio sta nfronte a te!
’o sole, ’o sole mio, sta nfronte a te,
sta nfronte a te!
Quanno fa notte e ’o sole se ne scenne,
me vane quasi ’na malincunia;
sotta ’a fenesta toia restarria
quanno fa notte e ’o sole se ne scenne.
Ma n’atu sole cchiù bello, oi ne’,
’o sole mio sta nfronte a te!
’o sole, ’o sole mio, sta nfronte a te,
sta nfronte a te!

English translation
What a beautiful thing is a sunny day!
The air is serene after a storm,
The air is so fresh that it already feels like a celebration.
What a beautiful thing is a sunny day!
But another sun that's brighter still,
It's my own sun that's upon your face!
The sun, my own sun, it's upon your face!
It's upon your face!
When night comes and the sun has gone down,
I almost start feeling melancholy;
I'd stay below your window
When night comes and the sun has gone down.
But another sun that's brighter still,
It's my own sun that's upon your face!
The sun, my own sun, it's upon your face!
It's upon your face!

Griechenbeisl

'Beethoven was here'

If a restaurant has been around since 1447, you’d expect it to have a memorable guest list. Griechenbeisl, in a side-street in Vienna, is rather proud of its guest list: Beethoven, Mozart, Schubert, Wagner, Strauss, Brahms, Mark Twain, Johnny Cash, Zeppelin, Bismarck. And being canny inn-keepers, they have over the years ensured that such famous guests sign the walls and vaulted ceiling of their inn. Where you, dear non-famous guest, can view them in awe today.

I'm blessed with a healthy skepticism where things historical are concerned, and I don’t know if all the signatures at the Griechenbeisel are authentic. I ate my adequate dinner in the small vaulted room surrounded by these etchings of the great. They are covered with perspex, and the waiter keeps handy a long stick for pointing out the various highlights amongst them. Despite said skepticism, I found myself sufficiently over-awed by the proximity of the (possible) hand of Beethoven and Mozart that I could barely digest. A little research has not - yet - revealed any in-depth rejection of the authenticity of the signatures.

A pretty entrance.

Griechenbeisel is clearly very old. The exterior is delightfully picturesque and the interior convincingly low-ceilinged, dark and maze-like. The restaurant operates in several rooms. If you eat in the ‘signature room’, expect a steady stream of patrons from the others rooms visiting to ooh and ahh over the artefacts, and even tourists outside the low bowed window poking their camera lenses in. 

The inn has this to say about itself:

An ancient building with bay windows and many small vaulted rooms - that is the Reichenberger Griechenbeisl, a piece of medieval Vienna. The first mention of the building in the faded registers of the City of Vienna was made in 1350, when the house was owned by the knight-commoner Lienhart Poll, who was a very distinguished and rich citizen. The tower with its steeply rising double pitch roof...was built in the late middle ages. Structurally it is one of many residential towers in Vienna to survive to this day. As early as 1447, what is today the Griechenbeisl is mentioned in the old chronicles as an inn called “Zum Gelben Adler” (“The Yellow Eagle”). Since then, although it has often changed its name...it has always been an inn. 

And waxing ever more lyrical:

Twice the Turks attacked Vienna, and the walls of the house, which was situated near the line of defence, shook with the impact of the attacker’s cannon balls. Earthquakes and conflagrations, floods and plague swept through the city, leaving fear in their wake. But each time the joie de vivre of the Viennese triumphed over fear and hardship...When trade with the near East increased, Greek and levantine traders came to Vienna and settled on the Flieschmarkt (the Meat market). The Griechenbeisl (‘the Greek’s Inn’) became their local hostelry. When cloth dealers from Reichenberg followed, the inn ultimately became known as the ‘Reichenberger Griechenbeisl’.

'Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart'. I think.

A fuzzy 'Bismarck'

'Richard Wagner'. For sure.

Always interested in the ‘Rough Guide’s take on such matters, I consulted its entry for the Griechenbeisl. The RG does not impugn the signatures, merely saying sniffily that the inn 'milks the connections’. I couldn't help but share a little of this opinion when I discovered that the restaurant refers to the room with the signatures - of Beethoven, Mozart, and Wagner! - as the 'Mark Twain Room.' This apparently draws the American crowd, to whom Huckleberry Finn, it seems, means more than Parsifal.

Mark Twain is up there somewhere.

An inviting entrance.

Griechenbeisl's medieval side-street, Vienna

The Sublime and the Ridiculous

Renée Fleming is one of the greatest sopranos singing today and a renowned 'Strauss soprano'. Richard Strauss is one of the greatest 20th century composers. And his last opera, Capriccio, is - IMHO - his greatest. Thus, we had a winning combination at the Wiener Staatsoper - Vienna State Opera. Ms Fleming was stunning, and equalled by her excellent fellow cast members, under the baton of Christoph Eschenbach. Sublime indeed.

Capriccio (1941) is an intriguing opera about opera. It is a charming, reflective, intellectual conversation piece composed of a great swathe of mesmerising music that continues for two hours and a quarter. At the end, you're walking on clouds. There's very little action as such, but the premise is a debate between friends over what is more important, the music or the words. Music is represented by the tenor, a young composer named Flamand (Michael Schade); and words by the baritone, a poet named Olivier (Markus Eiche). Both are in love with the Countess, Madeleine (Ms Fleming), she playing the role of muse for both of them. The argument in favour of the director, the staging, the production and the design is made by La Roche, a humorous bass role (Kurt Rydl); and we also have Clarion the actress (Angelika Kirchschlager) and the Count, Madeleine's brother, playing an unmusical critic (Bo Skovhus).

The cast of Capriccio takes a well-earned bow.

In the course of this careful debate, Strauss manages to reference all kinds of musical motifs, including some of his own, and to criticise Italian opera rather obviously -- there is an interlude with two Italian singers melodramatically performing 'in the Italian style', and some cutting lines about triumphal marches (take that, Verdi). Strauss has his characters consider the subject of opera itself - and then compose one, in fact, the one we're hearing. A clever conceit. The opera ends with the Countess, in a long and extraordinarily beautiful monologue, still unable to decide between her two suitors or between words and music, which she decides are best entwined. We end with one of the most trivial finales in all opera - the major domo appears and says, 'Dinner is served'. Bliss.

The drawbacks of opera are also frankly aired -- the loudness of the orchestra drowning the singers, the absurdity of discussing politics in song, or dying while singing a loud aria.

And the very next night, the Wiener Staatsoper treated its audience to a resounding example showcasing most of these absurdities (excepting only the triumphal march). A performance of Gounod's Roméo et Juliette (1867) included several prime examples of quarrels performed in song, to say nothing of the incredibly long and forceful death scene, with the two main protagonists spending at least half an hour dying, vigorously. The staging also included just about every cliché in the repertoire -- after the fireworks, the on-stage photography, the banks of candles, the twilight stars, what else could there be? Ah yes, someone rides on a bicycle, there's an on-stage band, with a piano accordion; and wait - there's another bicycle. Sadly, though the tenor singing Romeo did his best alongside an excessively loud Juliet -- and I have to say they both worked very hard -- the singing did not save the production or the composition.

However, the cast did not appear to realise this, and a small portion of the audience was very enthusiastic. Perhaps they like loudness in their sopranos. I always make it a point to stay for the curtain calls of the cast. Whatever the evening has been like, they do work hard. But on this night they kept coming back and back...and back...most of the audience had left long since, but a few hardy fools remained applauding, which seemed to encourage the cast to come back yet one more time. Couldn't they see that there's only six people left clapping? Placido Domingo was conducting, too - you'd think that a fine old hand like him would have stopped their foolishness. I think they were still rushing back to take another bow to two or three appreciative fans as I made my way out of the theatre.

As if to make sure that all the awful things that can go wrong in an evening at the opera were taken care of in the one visit, this evening also included a small child in my box who insisted on kicking, pulling and climbing on the back of my chair throughout, when she wasn't prodding me in the back. Could anything could be more distracting? Yes! The deplorable English translation of the libretto for the sur-titles was so astoundingly awful that they managed to take my attention, with awful fascination, away from kicking child, bicycles and foghorn soprano. A few samples linger in my memory...and always will, I fear.

....How bright thy front. A palace it outvies.
...She looks at me and raises.
...I embrace your knees.

Ridiculous indeed.

Vienna State Opera advertises Roméo et Juliette. Don't be tempted.

Vienna Boys

Vienna Boys Choir

This is how to hear the Vienna Boys Choir if you are in Vienna on a Sunday. Check their website for the times of the Sunday services at the Hofburgkapelle. It will also list the composer & version of the Mass to be sung. You might be able to reserve a ticket by emailing or phoning, but the ticket office is notoriously erratic. No matter. Just turn up about 45 minutes before the time of the service and head up the front steps of the Hofburgkapelle where you will find a ticket office in the entrance foyer. You may notice a group of people queuing at the foot of the entrance steps - they are waiting to take the free standing room spaces, and they won't be allowed in until all the ticket-holders are seated.

To secure a seat you need to pay to go to church. Just line up at the ticket counter in the entrance foyer and pay. The tickets are priced according to the location of the seats. Note that even the highest priced ticket may not have you seated at the front of the chapel. You could consider paying less for the upstairs balconies. The view up there would be interesting.

Before taking your seat I recommend a journey - and it is a long way - to the restrooms on the highest floor. Signs, and the friendly English-speaking attendants, will direct you. The value of this journey (apart from the obvious one of physical comfort) is that you get to take a walk through or past many of the lovely rooms of the Hofburgkapelle. Through some doorways you might peek to see a violin casually waiting in its velvet-lined case, or music sheets spread on an antique console. But best of all you will be drawn by the dulcet sounds of the choir and orchestra warming up. On a lucky morning you might pass a door standing ajar, high up on the third floor, and be able to discreetly eavesdrop on the sailor-suited boys as they warble in preparation.



A little about the choir:

The Vienna Boys Choir was formed more than five hundred years ago, and has worked with some of the greatest composers ever known, including Mozart and Bruckner; and Franz Schubert himself was a chorister.
The choir is the modern-day descendant of the boys' choirs from the Viennese Court, dating back to the late Middle Ages. The choir was, for practical purposes, established by a letter written by Maximilian I of Habsburg on 7 July 1498. In the letter the Emperor instructed court officials to employ a singing master, two basses and six boys. Jurij Slatkonja became the director of the ensemble. The role of the choir (numbering between fourteen and twenty) was to provide musical accompaniment to the church mass.
The Vienna Boys' Choir (also The Vienna Choir Boys, German: Wiener Sängerknaben) is a choir of trebles and altos based in Vienna. It is one of the best known boys' choirs in the world. The boys are selected mainly from Austria, but also from many other countries.
The choir is a private, not-for-profit organization. There are approximately 100 choristers between the ages of ten and fourteen. The boys are divided into four touring choirs, named for Bruckner, Haydn, Mozart and Schubert, which perform about 300 concerts each year before almost 500,000 people. Each group tours for about nine to eleven weeks. (source)

In the Hofburgkappelle

But you should take your seat in good time for the service. This may include a small men's choir standing at the front of the chapel, along with various robed celebrants. Don't be surprised to find that from the main seating downstairs you won't be able to see the boys - but you will hear them, and the orchestra -- invisible musicians from somewhere above and behind your head. If you took my advice and made the restroom trek, you'll  have an idea from whence the sound is proceeding.

The service will last for about 60 minutes, and will include the usual Roman Catholic liturgy and a short sermon, in German of course. The sung portions of the service will be delightful, with the orchestral accompaniment providing a lighter tone than the usual church organ accompaniment. When they're done, the clergy will process solemnly through the congregation and out of the side entrance of the chapel. Now is the moment. The last clergyman to leave the chapel may give a wide grin just before he steps through the doorway and point one finger on each hand towards the front altar, as if to say "over to the stars of the show!"

Now the Boys and their conductor will file in from the wings, as it were, and line up in front of the altar to give you a song or two. The orchestra remains invisibly overhead. Their performance will be met with great acclaim by a congregation who finally feel they are getting their money's worth. And that's it. Well worth it. Oh, and you can take all the photographs you want.

There are, of course, other formal concerts by the Vienna Boys Choir at different venues such as theatres or the Opera House - the website will show details. If you want a ticket to these, I'd suggest contacting the venue in question well in advance. But for a quiet Sunday morning with angelic boys' voices, try the Hofburgkappelle. And don't forget to 'go' beforehand...

Vienna Boys Choir