The Neckar River and picturesque Neckarsteinach.
Ship passing through a lock on the Neckar River.
Our home...
The Kommandantenhause (our home for the time being) and the Dilsberg Castle.
Sign proclaiming the celebration of Dilsberg's 800th anniversary (this year!)
On Thursday, I attended a wonderful duo piano concert performed by the husband/wife team Liuben Dimitrov and Aglika Genova at the Schwetzingen Festspiele. They performed a beautiful program of Ravel (Daphnis et Chloé), Liszt (Variations on Mozart's Don Giovanni), Bernstein (excerpts from West Side Story), and Gershwin (excerpts from Porgy and Bess) with ease, unbelievable precision, and convincing interpretation. The audience (myself included) loved them and enthusiastically rewarded them with what I call the European Uni-Clap (the whole audience magically morphs from chaotic individual clapping to a unified rhythmic clapping... this seems to only happen in Europe), thereby squeezing 3 encores out of this pair.
The concert took place at the Schwetzingen Castle, a famous palace which "was the summer residence of the Electors Palatine Karl III Philip and Charles Theodore, and is most notable for its spacious and ornate gardens. Prior to the concert, I walked through the castle gardens. WOW. Gorgeous. And huge. Flowers and plants and trees and birds from around the world... Winding rivers and beautiful ponds and small lakes... Decorative buildings erected in the style of buildings from around the world.
My Dad has been hiking up and down the mountain every morning since we got here. I've been sleeping in... but woke up early enough today to join him.
We headed down the mountain, zig-zagging on a steep incline through lush, green woods with birds serenading us all the way. We made it to the Neckar River, which was sparkling in the bright sunlight, and walked along a path by the river until we reached a lock, with a bridge for pedestrians above the river. We walked over the river (peering at it over the sides of the bridge, but also through the metal grates we were walking on) and into the town of Neckarsteinach, joking that we can combine our workout with grocery shopping (since there is no grocery store in Dilsberg). We walked around town, visiting two beautiful churches (one Catholic, one now Evangelical but formerly Catholic) and then followed the signs to "Vierbürgen" (Four Castles), which we could already see... perched on the top and sides of the hills just outside the town. We walked up to one, which is privately owned (yikes! who owns this incredible building and property? one can make out a chapel and tower from outside the castle walls), and then around it through the woods, and arrived at the fully explorable ruins of another. I spotted a bench and decided to lay down to enjoy the warmth of the sun, the fresh air, and the singing of my birds, my Dad (of course) climbed up to the top of the tower). Half-opening one eye, I had the most beautiful view of the river, the town behind it, the mountain of Dilsberg, and, a few feet from me, a little black bird perched on a rock, singing to me...
The rest of the day: practicing, eating, and (in the evening) watching Poulenc's opera, "Les Dialogues des Carmélites" on ZDF television...
The concert went very well - YAY! Now I can disclose that I barely looked at the piano since my return from China (no time to do so) and was honestly worried about this performance... Ironically, the only piece I had a flash of doubt as to "what comes next" while playing was my own composition, "Northern Lights" which I played as an encore...
Let me explain the context of this concert: cellist Michael Flaksman organized a four-day course for young cellists (ages 8-16) here in Dilsberg, from May 1-4. He invited 8 young cellists (2 from Italy, 3 from Germany, 2 from Poland, 1 from Korea) to come here to have lessons with him and two other cellists, his wife (Jelena Ocic) and Wolfgang Lehner (a Swiss cellist... who happens to be a good friend of my family, though until this week we hadn't been in touch for some years). The cellists participated in masterclasses, rehearsed and performed works for cello ensemble, and performed solo recitals.
What a gifted group of kids! They performed the most difficult works (e.g. Lalo, Schumann, Haydn, Shostakovitch, and Saint-Saens Concertos, Schumann Fantasy Pieces, Shostakovitch Sonata, Tchaikovsky Pezzo Capriccioso, Popper Hungarian Rhapsody, among others) with finesse (clear interpretive ideas) and great technical prowess (fast and agile fingerwork, excellent intonation, excellent bow control). I volunteered to accompany two for works that I've played many times, the Tchaikovsky Pezzo Capriccioso and the Popper Hungarian Rhapsody... But never have I heard either work played as fast as these boys did (at Ferrari test-course speed). I personally wouldn't choose to play (or listen to) either of these pieces at the tempi they chose, but it was impressive nonetheless. Probably a combination of ambition, adrenalin, competition with their peers, and purely being able to handle the pieces technically (showing off).
The 8-year-old (Riccardo Giovine) pulled off an impressive solo recital consisting of Bach's Arioso (accompanied by cello ensemble), Bach's Menuetto I and II from the G-major Suite, Vivaldi's 5th Sonata, Squire's Danza Rustica, and the finale of Goltermann's 4th Concerto.
I also attended a fantastic concert performed by Jelena Ocic (cello), Connie Shih (piano), and Phillip Roy (violin). Prior to the start of the concert, I accompanied the audience as we sang "Happy Birthday" to Michael Flaksman... The Trio performed Beethoven's Trio Op. 97 (Archduke) and Mendelssohn's Trio in d-minor Op. 49. A wonderful performance, performed with incredible passion (picture hair flying in all directions as they shook their heads to the music... a la rock stars). My Dad and I sat in the seats reserved for us... in the front row... an arm's distance from the cellist (I really could have reached out and touched her bow if I wanted to... wouldn't that have caused an outrage!).
Now, they've all gone home and Dilsberg feels a little empty... (except for all the birds, singing beautifully).
