Tonight I attended the final dress rehearsal for LA Opera’s presentation of Phillip Glass and Robert Wilson’s (choreographed by Lucinda Childs who really deserves a larger font size on the program) Einstein on the Beach. I honestly never thought in my life that I’d have the opportunity to see this work live and to be honest, I also never thought I’d sit engaged for 4.5 hours of Phillip Glass without losing my mind. There’s a longer blog post in my head but the short of it is that I finally get why this piece gets so much play time in our undergraduate music history classes. That last statement deserves a blog post of its own so I’ll indulge myself with that later. Instead, I give you a fascinating conversation that took place between my engineer head husband and myself about five minutes after I arrived home tonight:

J: So, was it everything you thought it would be?

Me: Not sure what I thought it would be but I think so.

J: What was it again?

Me: Einstein on the Beach.

J: What is it about?

Me: Einstein

J: Right, but what’s the story?

Me: Well, it’s not that kind of piece.

J: But it’s an opera about Einstein, right?

Me: Well, yes, but it’s not really about anything specific.

J: So, it’s not about Einstein?

Me: Yes, it is about Einstein. Or well, not really but yes.

J: So, what’s the plot?

Me: There is no plot.

J: How can there be no plot?

Me: There just isn’t.

J: So, is it just music?

Me: Gosh no!

J: Well, what is it then?

Me: What is what?

J: The opera, what is it about?

Me: Einstein.

This weekend LA Opera presents “Einstein on the Beach”. This is the final North American stop of the international tour. I’ll be attending (and live tweeting #EOTB2013) the working dress rehearsal of the production on Thursday evening beginning at 6pm.  Angelenos have been treated to an extraordinary amount of PR surrounding the Los Angeles performances so I’ve had Phillip Glass on my mind for weeks now. In anticipation of Thursday night’s adventure I have been reflecting on my past experience with the music of Phillip Glass….

I was first introduced to the music of Phillip Glass in 1988. I was a junior in high school in my first year at Interlochen Arts Academy (IAA) boarding school and I am sure I thought I was a very worldly and serious musician. Serious? Yes. Worldly? Uh, probably not. I’d had very little exposure to contemporary or “new” music, unless you count the ditties my Suzuki violin teacher made up to help us learn difficult passages in the repertoire. I still remember the first time I heard Glass’s music. I sat on the floor in a friends room at IAA and had no idea what the hell I was listening to. I looked at the CD cover and I don’t recall what it was but remember thinking that the cover art looked as odd as the repetitive sounds I was hearing. I’d never taken drugs but I imagined that what I was hearing and feeling was probably just what it would be like to be tripping or high on drugs. It seemed like “trippy” music to me. It wasn’t an annoying gross Grateful Dead trippy, it was a better sounding more organized yet slightly uncomfortable trippy. My friends were totally into it so I decided that it was awesome and that I liked Phillip Glass’s music.

You might say that I was peer pressured into a love affair with the music of Phillip Glass.

I had a fairly impressive collection of classical music cd’s as a teenager and I recall dragging my Dad to the music store over Thanksgiving break so that I could purchase some Phillip Glass. I think the first recordings I purchased were Songs from Liquid Days.  I did not imbibe this music in the same manner I did the rest of my collection. I fancied myself a very “serious” student of music but Phillip Glass was the kind of music I daydreamed and studied to, I don’t think I ever actually “listened” to it the same way I did most other music.

I recall studying Einstein on the Beach during my undergrad years but my love affair with Glass seemed to fizzle over time. I don’t think it was a conscious decision, maybe I just outgrew him. Or maybe I finally realized that I didn’t “get” it. He truly was appealing to me as a teenager. And then he wasn’t anymore.

Ironically, when LA Opera started their PR blitz for Einstein on the Beach a few months ago I got very excited. I instantly forgot that Phil and I had fizzled and started listening again. Twenty plus years ago I didn’t have access to the internet or, HOLY COW, Youtube! I found myself reading and then clicking through pages on treasure hunt for more information, sites, and sounds. I am in a bit of a tizzy as I reintroduce myself to Phillip Glass; it turns out he went on and continued to write music without me. I have much catching up to do! On that note, I cannot imagine being a kid and having had access to the world via the internet. I may never have slept.

I’ll admit that I’m nervous about the prospect of sitting still for four and half hours without intermission. (So much for minimalism.) The audience is invited to come and go freely but I can’t imagine that I will be able to pull myself away from the spectacle. 

If you aren’t familiar with the work of Phillip Glass and are curious about all the fuss behind LA Opera’s presentation of Einstein on the Beach, I highly recommend watching the 1986 documentary Einstein on the Beach: The Changing Image of Opera. It features both Phillip Glass and Robert Wilson explaining the work in great detail.

I am downright giddy at the prospect of seeing the complete work live. This tour is expected to be the last revival Phillip Glass and Robert Wilson are directly involved in. The whole city seems to be humming with excitement and LA Opera has done a phenomenal job with the PR so it is likely to be an incredible audience. We are witnessing and experiencing history this week!

You can follow me @banteringblonde on Thursday as I live tweet throughout the final dress rehearsal starting a bit before 6pm Pacific Time. Follow @laopera @einsteinbeach and #EOTB2013

I still remember the day that we found out our third child would be a girl. My husband was always good at being able to tell whether there were boy parts or girl parts but I was never confident in what I was seeing. I was pretty sure that I would have another boy though because I was just a boy mom.  When they told me I was having a girl it was like time froze. Literally. It was like a scene out of some movie where everything blurs and the voices go deep and drag slow. 

Criticize me if you want but the thought of having a girl terrified me and it still does. She is the apple of her father’s eye, the joy of her brothers’ worlds (most of the time), my spunky, loving girl and she keeps me on my toes!

For the most part we parent the boys and K, who is now 8, the same but there is no way around the fact that boys and girls are different. I’m proud of how we’ve been able to establish a pretty open dialogue in our house about the dangers of drugs, alcohol, bullying and sexuality. All of these things apply to each of them regardless of their gender.

Still, boys and girls are different.

My eldest son went through puberty, started to smell, grew body hair, and got a bad case of acne. Solution: deodorant, “the talk”,  and a great dermatologist. Easy Peasy.

An example of how crazy I am when it comes to girl stuff:

The other day we were walking away from the school when K turned to me and asked if she can shave her legs.

I just about fell over.  OMG, when do girls start shaving their legs?

Have I mentioned that she’s 8? EIGHT.

I’m a total loser at this point because she’s seen the look on my face and she knows this is going to be good. Why can I talk to my boys about pretty much anything but the pressure to say exactly the right thing to my girl turns me into an idiot?

After gathering my idiot self, I asked her why she wanted to shave her legs.

Because she has hairy legs, she says.

OK. Well, we all have hairy legs and, I’m NOT kidding you, I started talking about primates and evolution and how the hair kept us warm when we were monkeys. MONKEYS!

Do you not see now how traumatizing it will be for this beautiful girl child to have me as her mother?

When she told me that someone in her class shaves their legs already it was all I could do to keep my eyeballs inside my head. Well, that just made it all the more interesting to her. Somehow I pulled myself together enough to gather her in a hug and sit down with her on the sidewalk for a chat.

I pointed out how very light blonde and fine the hair on her legs was and then showed her the shameful stubble on my legs. I explained that once you start shaving the hair it grows back more corse and it’s a pain in the ass to keep up with and since we live in Southern California and wear shorts and skirts all year round it’s an even bigger pain in the ass.

She listened and stared at my legs with disgust and when I was done she just looked at me. I thought she was deep in thought about whether she still wanted to shave her legs, but do you know what that child said to me?

Can we go now? I’m hungry.

This blog post started as a comment preceding this link I was sharing on Facebook. It’s a link to a summary of a broadcast segment on Minnesota Public Radio titled:  Carlson says orchestra deserves help as much as Vikings.

The interview featured former governor Arne Carlson who criticized leadership for responding quickly to a Viking stadium request and shelling out $475 million but having essentially ignored the Minnesota Orchestra dispute. He says the orchestra’s financial problems could be solved for a fraction of the public money, $6 million to be precise, that has been committed to the new Vikings stadium in downtown Minneapolis.

My question is: what then?

If the Minnesota Vikings were to contribute money toward settling the Minnesota Orchestra lockout, as Carlson somewhat “tongue-in-cheek suggests, what happens the next time the orchestra runs out of money?

For that matter, if public funds of any sort were given in order to end the lockout would that solve the orchestra’s problems long term?

I’m a strong advocate for the arts but I am also an advocate for common sense and long term sustainable and practical business practices.

Without commenting specifically on the Minnesota situation, I do think we need to look at the way we in the arts world are doing business. Our orchestras operate under a model that relies heavily on public funding and over my lifetime (I am 41) there has been a steady decline in support for public funding of the arts. Clearly, there are organizations that have adapted and are thriving but most smaller organizations are not just not thriving, they are struggling and many are failing.

I ended up listening to the full sound broadcast segment. The article does not do justice to the argument that Carlson makes during the segment. If you are at all curious I suggest listening.

Two thoughts occurred to me while I listened to this broadcast:

1. We can’t rely on public funding to fix the problems we are facing in the arts world. We suck at business right now and we need to stop sucking at business.

2. The public is not fully aware of, or doesn’t understand, the facts behind why they should support the arts. There are a lot of intangible “touch feely” reasons why the arts are important but money talks and there are real concrete financial reasons the public should get behind the arts. Very few of us are good at articulating these facts. Carlson is very good at it. We need a plan that involves more people who get it and can articulate it to systematically educate the public.

I don’t know exactly what the solution is but a very good friend commented the other day on Facebook in reference to an article on why classical music is struggling and made a very good point: