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Sound all around

This Friday night, November 15, at 7:30 pm, my lovely wife Marilyn Nonken will take to the stage at the DiMenna Center for Classical Music and present Piano 360, a program of new and recent immersive musical works “surrounding the audience with a spatial audio ring of speakers,” according to the DiMenna Center’s page for this event. On the program are new compositions by Elizabeth Hoffman (which includes a few texts by yours truly), Ellen Fishman, and Natasha Barrett, as well as contemporary masterpieces by Alvin Lucier, Hugues Dufourt, and Jonathan Harvey.

Tickets for this event are available here; the DiMenna Center is at 450 West 37th Street here in New York. We’ll hope to see you there.

25 years of Mineshaft

The mailman slipped me the latest issue of Mineshaft #45 last week — the 25th anniversary issue of the magazine that published its first issue back in the last century. I read through just about the whole thing in one sitting, but “read” may not be entirely accurate: each issue is a world in itself of visual and linguistic acrobatics from writers and artists old and new. It seems churlish to pick out just a few highlights, since Mineshaft is best read from first page to last, but in #45 you’ll find:

First, that splendid, endlessly fascinating wraparound cover by Aaron Horkey
Simone F. Baumann’s depiction of her very brief career in a hooker bar
A memoir of pre-teen transvestism by Billy Childish
Mary Fleener’s comic travelogue through the current state of the humanities in academia
R. Crumb’s portraits of two great blues masters
Drew Friedman’s rendering of popular Chaplin imitators

And there’s more, much more, besides.

In the sixth part of his continuing saga about life with Mineshaft, publisher/editor Everett Rand muses upon the magazine’s continuing appeal. “[The] magazine is an attempt, by me, to keep control of my world. I’ve always enjoyed the possibility of living in art, rather than always being stuck in real life. That’s what a great painting or book does for me. They give me another world that I can step into and inhabit for a while.” He continues:

My own editorial vision … is always pushing artists and writers to send us their best work, and there’s no money in it. People can resent this, or not have the time for it. … Despite the sacrifice and hardship, I think people come on board because of the community, in order to be a part of the experience. The generosity of the Mineshaft community is really what keeps Mineshaft alive. Everybody comes together to help make something tangible, that is nicely put together, and that otherwise wouldn’t exist. It’s not practical and you have to be a bit of a dreamer and idealist. The readers are a big part of this community too.

It is, it must be said, not a big community. Only 1,350 copies of Mineshaft #45 were printed, but that community is always inviting new members who want to share that world with the contributors, and the community’s arms are always open. That’s why you should subscribe. Each issue is a new universe, a brief time away from what Rand calls “real life” (though, I suggest, that life is no more nor less real than that found in the pages of Mineshaft). “Long live MINESHAFT!” Crumb says. How can I disagree?

A toast to … Arnold Schönberg

Today marks the 150th anniversary of Arnold Schönberg’s birth, and the Austrian Cultural Forum here in New York will celebrate next week on Friday, September 19, with the opening of Arnold Schönberg: 150 Years, an exhibition running through November 8 devoted to the life and work of the modernist composer, a collaboration with Vienna’s Arnold Schönberg Center. The celebration will get under way next Friday with a concert from Trio Callas, which will be performing the composer’s Verklärte Nacht and Charles Ives’s Piano Trio, following opening remarks from Dr. Ulrike Anton, the newish director of the Schönberg Center. This event is sold out, alas, but I’ll look forward to the exhibition itself.

As I raise my glass of Moric’s Haus Marke Red tonight, I’ll be listening to Hilary Hahn’s splendid rendition of Schönberg’s violin concerto, accompanied by the Swedish Radio Symphony Orchestra under the baton of Esa-Pekka Salonen. While the actual Deutsche Grammophon CD release is to be preferred, here’s the YouTube version — better than nothing — for all you cheapskates out there. And really, if you’re going to listen to this music, get yourself a real stereo system whydon’tcha.

“That’s why the rats are back”

Deborah Sengl, The Last Days of Mankind. Stuffed rats and requisites on wooden pedestals, height dimension of the scene: variable, © Deborah Sengl, 2014. Photo: Mischa Nawrata, Wien.

At the Museum Dorotheergasse of the Jüdischen Museum Wien, the exhibition of Deborah Sengl’s taxidermic interpretation of Karl Kraus’s The Last Days of Mankind will continue through September 29, and if you’re in Vienna, you certainly should stop in and see it. (And with any luck the Austrian Cultural Forum here in New York will sit up and take notice.) I’ve written before about Sengl’s revealing perspective on Kraus’s great satiric masterpiece, and the museum itself offers its rationale for exhibiting the work right now:

The year 2024 is an election year. Throughout Europe, parties dreaming of “illiberal democracies” are gaining strength and attempting to persuade us that the term is not a contradiction. Society is polarized, with the social media echo chambers serving their own clientele and stirring up animosity to others. Pandemic and war have polarized public opinion even further, and the gap between rich and poor grows daily. Antisemitism and racism are omnipresent. Many people see this as a premonition of the last days of democracy, and Kraus, who celebrates his 150th anniversary this year, is more relevant than ever. That’s why the rats are back.

One of them will be on the debate stage in Philadelphia tonight. More information about the exhibition can be found here.

Back to Wien

I’ve been absent here over the summer, but my imagination and spirit carry me to Vienna still. As I continue to listen to — and support — radio klassik Stephansdom, I remain fascinated by the city’s fin-de-siècle culture, of course. However, in my reading I’m increasingly drawn to the city’s baroque and classical spirit of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries as well: Stephansdom and Melk and Josef II; Mozart, Schubert, and Beethoven. For this I’m finding Ilsa Barea’s classic study of the city most appealing and can highly recommend that.

So I’m taking up my private German lessons again and searching for flights — a goal more aspirational than practical at the moment, but a boy can dream. He can also drink. I’m laying in a case of Haus Marke Red from the Moric winery in Burgenland, recently discovered thanks to Karen MacNeil’s Wine Bible, which is very good on the renaissance of Austrian wines, especially its reds. Moric makes fantastic reds. As Ms. MacNeil writes:

Roland Velich, owner and winemaker of Moric, is part crusader, part apostle. He rails against “uniform wines” made with the goal of getting high scores from critics. He denounces a wine industry geared to “fast money,” which leads to “fast wines suitable only for fast food.” He’s not the kind of guy with whom you have a casual conversation. And his wines aren’t casual either. His Blaufränkish is from old vines grown on terraced hillsides and made with the kind of artisanal care given Grand Cru Burgundy. It roars out of the glass, a juggernaut of flavor. White pepper, orange rind, cranberry, grenadine, pine forest — they all fall over themselves in a rush to get to you. There’s magnificent structure here too, and an impossibly long finish. Dramatic and unforgettable when young, the wine gets more and more beautiful as it ages.

I understand that the Haus Marke Red from Moric is a blend of Blaufränkisch, Rotburger, and Blauburgunder (Pinot Noir), but boy, that bouquet leaps out at you and though slightly fruity it’s deliciously dry. It’ll be in my wine rack soon, and I can’t wait. You can read an interview with Velich here.