Buzz's Journal: I, Too, Can Change

This is the final edition of a newspaper that started publication in Paris 126 years ago as The New York Herald.  I’ve been reading it for 55 years. 

This is the first edition under its new name.  I wonder if it will last for another 126 years?

Bangkok, Thailand.  October 15, 2013.  Yesterday, one more of my connections with the past disappeared:  the International Herald Tribune changed its name to the International New York Times.  My first contact with The Trib was in 1958, when, at age 20, I lived and studied in England.  The Trib was written and published in Paris, and was every expat American’s connection with the US, but above all, it was romantic.  Nothing can equal the feeling I had sitting for the first time in Paris in December 1958, in a French café drinking coffee and reading the Trib.  It was my connection to Hemingway, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ford Maddox Ford, as well as to the glamorous present of Art Buchwald and Pierre Salinger.  America was riding high and so was I.  Then, after I moved to Bangkok in the early 2000’s and the International Herald Tribune began early morning home delivery in Bangkok, of its Asia edition, I have started off each day, first by reading The Bangkok Post, followed by reading my copy of the IHT.

I do not welcome the name change, but I, also, am changing:  I canceled home delivery of the International New York Times, and instead, I will now read it daily, as before, but on my Kindle e reader.  I guess this means that we both are moving ahead.  As long as the NYT maintains its commitment to quality journalism, I will be with it, regardless of its name or the media.

Berlioz Transcendent

Royal Festival Hall.  London.  September 26, 2013.  My many friends who are devoted sports fans tell me that they go to a lot of mediocre games, some disappointing, but that the occasional great moment or great game is so good that it makes all that went before it worthwhile.  I know exactly what they are talking about because music for me is quite the same.  It is only occasionally that I go to a transcending performance, one that is so sublimely beautiful that it engulfs the moment; time is suspended; an out-of-body experience, if you will.  Happily, the London Philharmonic Orchestra performing Berlioz’s Romeo and Juliet under the direction of Esa-Pekka Salonen was just such a high grade happening.

Berlioz called his Romero and Juliet piece a “dramatic symphony,” but there is nothing symphonic about it.  Who ever heard of a symphony with seven movements, not one of which is symphonic in form?  If one wants a label, then an oratorio comes closer to describing the structure.  But, dramatic it is.  The orchestra required is huge, about 110 players, which include two sets of timpani.  A full chorus and a soprano and baritone soloist complete the ensemble, which engulfed the stage.  For this performance at the Royal Festival Hall, a lighting designer was called in, who provided subtle lighting which mirrored the changing moods of the music, as in opera.  It was surprisingly effective.  Add to this one of the world’s great orchestras and conductor, and you have the potential for great music, not always realized, but on this occasion the rapt attention of the audience (1 ½ hours with no intermission) and cheering at the conclusion showed that I was not the only one deeply affected.

Prior to the start of the concert, a professor of music from one of the UK’s universities gave a lecture about Berlioz and the context of the times in which he composed Romeo and Juliet (1840).  I very much liked that, rather than detailing the music itself, which I don’t find very helpful, she talked about Berlioz the person and composer, as well as the Paris in which he lived and worked.  It was a perfect introduction to the music which followed.