Sunday Mountain Blogging

Spring is here.

Diving

When my beau and I were first getting to know each other, he said he liked scuba diving. "Really? I always wanted to do that," I answered. Which was true, I had always thought it looked like an interesting thing to do, if a little on the unaccessible side as a hobby to try, unlike, say, sketching or cycling. You couldn't just decide to dive one afternoon for the hell of it, there had to be training, equipment, preparation. So, naturally, I had no feelings one way or another about diving before I actually did it for the first time.
That first time was in Sali, on the Adriatic coast in Croatia, with a wonderfully patient German instructor named Oliver, and I enjoyed the 30 minutes underwater enough to go ahead and sign up for the course, for which I spent day and night studying during the rest of our vacation.
Nearly two years went by before I got around to diving again, at the Red Sea in Egypt. Which was a wonderful experience, but also something one can't really do on a regular basis without masses of money. The next best thing lie ahead: diving in the lakes in southern Bavaria and Tirol.

Warm water, lots of exotic fish and reefs teeming with life: this is what lake diving is not. Rather, it's colder, darker, and much more barren. You might see some Pike swim by, or a sunken VW Beetle, or even a Christmas tree (the diving clubs "plant" them when they dive in December.) Mostly you feel a bit like you're an astronaut on the moon. Which is exactly what I love about it.
The Alpine lakes sometimes take in the trees that come down from landslides and avalanches, and these make eerily beautiful "pick-up-sticks" formations like the one above.
My beau, in the above photo, is enjoying a moment of still, effortless buoyancy in the water (I still suck at that.)

These photos were taken by other divers, during a weekend at a lake where I am not yet officially "allowed" to dive (it's shallow, and beginners tend to kick up sediment, so the owners slapped a 5o-dive minimum experience on the permit. I'm at around 25 right now, and 2 dives shy of finishing my AOWD course.)

Can't do much diving right now due to work conflicts, but I'll be back in the water this June and August, enjoying the views above and below the lakes' surfaces. See you back on the shore!

** Just to be clear (as I realized perhaps I wasn't, upon re-reading the post): I take that minimum requirement seriously and do not yet dive there, so none of these shots are of me. I have dived in several other lakes in the area, though.

The start of a new production.

As with any group project, a theatrical production requires a period of time to be prepared and shaped into a final „product“ before it’s opening night. It’s occurred to me that it might be interesting to follow along the time plan as it unfolds. You’re not going to hear any secrets or in-house stuff, or anything personal (I love my job and want to keep it!), but I’ll try to lead you through the different stages of rehearsals as we progress toward the night when they become performances.

In a theater such as mine, the first thing you might hear about an upcoming piece is year beforehand. There is a press conference to announce the new season, and a booklet with all pertinent information about the theater, the shows it’s planned, and the people working there. Normally a few months before rehearsals begin, a cast list goes up and one can see what role one has (officially, since unofficially you were told about it when you were offered your new contract), and who else will be in the show. From then until rehearsals begin, you get your music, you ask for coachings, you memorize your role.

The first meeting, once staging rehearsals begin, is a general meeting for the production team (led by the stage director) to explain his or her concept to the cast ( who may or may not know each other from previous work together.) The set designer presents a model of the set as it will appear, the costume designer passes around sketches of the costumes, the conductor usually simply introduces himself and listens to what the stage director has in mind. After everything's been covered (usually in the most basic way), there may be a musical rehearsal with the conductor and a rehearsal pianist. Later that evening — or the next day — staging rehearsals will begin in earnest.

Spring Snow

My dear late grandmother used to worry about me living so close to the mountains. She'd hear those stories on the news about Alpine villages wiped out from avalanches, and I think she imagined it could happen to me as I walked along a downtown street. No, Nana, I'd assure her, I'm not in any danger from avalanches, don't worry.


In the mountains, it's another story. The danger of avalanches is very high when so much snow comes this late in the season. Also, it's been sunny and mild through most of the new year, and that cycle of thawing in the sunshine/freezing at night makes the snow up in the mountains unstable. From Wikipedia:

If the temperature is high enough for gentle freeze-thaw cycles to take place, the melting and refreezing of water in the snow strengthens the snowpack during the freezing phase and weakens it during the thawing phase. A rapid rise in temperature, to a point significantly above the freezing point, may cause a slope to avalanche, especially in spring. Persistent cold temperatures prevent the snow from stabilizing; long cold spells may contribute to the formation of depth hoar, a condition where there is a pronounced temperature gradient, from top to bottom, within the snow. When the temperature gradient becomes sufficiently strong, thin layers of "faceted grains" may form above or below embedded crusts, allowing slippage to occur.
Daytime exposure to sunlight can rapidly destabilize the upper layers of a snowpack. Sunlight reduces the sintering, or necking, between snow grains. During clear nights, the snowpack can strengthen, or tighten, through the process of long-wave radiative cooling. When the night air is significantly cooler than the snowpack, the heat stored in the snow is re-radiated into the atmosphere.

There have been avalanches occurring often in the last weeks, there will be many more.

Just in contrast to the photo below.

Weekend Rooftop Blogging: Frohe Ostern

Or maybe, Frohe Weihnachten, as it's cold, fogging and snowing — if it's possible to have snow and fog at the same time...
If you've been here before, you know that this view should have a massive mountain range in it. When we have weather like this, you'd never know it was there.

Where The Wankers Are

We had a few days free before the Easter holidays, so I roped my significant other into a day trip to eastern Allgäu, a region of southwest Bavaria (think Ludwig's castles) in order to check out a place called Wank. Just for the hell of it. So, here's Wank!


Here's the downtown area...

It certainly has a unique skyline which can be seen from, oh, 100 meters.
That was Wank. Come again soon!

15 Minutes of Blogger Fame

Wow. This blog got a mention at cnn.com, in the "Blogs talking about this topic" list following their article on the UN report discussed below. Thanks, cnn! I still don't like your tv program very much, but I'm grateful for the referral. It shows that early posting (most U.S. bloggers were still asleep in their beds) and a witty title will get you a link, even when you have nothing to add yourself.

Banana trees on the ski slopes

Achim Steiner, executive director of the United Nations Environment Program, said today that the world's glaciers are melting "at an alarming rate", based on data collected by the World Glacier Monitoring Service in Zurich.

Juliette Jowit from the Observer writes:

Glaciers act like gigantic water towers: snow falls on the top in wet seasons, where it freezes and compacts over years, while melting water at the bottom is released gradually, keeping rivers flowing even in the hottest weather. 'Glaciers are like a bank,' says Professor Wilfried Haeberli, director of the World Glacier Monitoring Service. 'You have income - mainly snow - and you have expenditure - mainly melting: the difference between snowfall and melting is the yearly balance.'

Since at least 1980 the service has kept a constant record of this net gain or loss in mass balance of 30 'reference' glaciers in nine mountain ranges around the world. It has also used travellers' diaries, photographs, and the clues left on landscapes scarred by the moving mass of ice and debris to map historic growth and the gradual decline of glaciers since the mid-19th century.

From 1850 to 1970, the team estimates net losses averaged about 30cm a year; between 1970 to 2000 they rose to 60-90cm a year; and since 2000 the average has been more than one metre a year. Last year the total net loss was the biggest ever, 1.3m, and only one glacier became larger. Worldwide, the vast majority of the planet's 160,000 glaciers are receding, 'at least' as much as this, says Haeberli, probably more - a claim supported by evidence from around the world.

In North America, Dr Bruce Molina of the US Geological Survey says that in Alaska '99-plus per cent of glaciers are retreating or stagnating'.

In the European Alps, a report last year by UNEP said glaciers declined, from a peak in the 1850s, by 35 per cent by 1970 and by 50 per cent by 2000, and lost 5-10 per cent in the mega-hot year of 2003 alone.

UNEP has also reported declines in the last 50-150 years of 1.3 per cent in the Arctic islands to 50 per cent in the North Caucasus in Russia, 25-50 per cent in central Asia, a 2km retreat of the massive Gangotri glacier which feeds the Ganges, 49 to 61 per cent in New Zealand, and 80 per cent in the high mountains of southern Africa. There is also 'considerable' shrinking of medium and small glaciers in central Chile and Argentina accompanied by 'drastic retreat' of glaciers in Patagonia to the south.

Steiner also mentioned that the Climate Conference to be held in 2009 in Copenhagen "will provide the true litmus test of governments' commitment to reducing greenhouse gas emissions, the carbon pollution from fossil fuels damaging Earth's climate system.

Otherwise, and like the glaciers, our room for manoeuvre and the opportunity to act may simply melt away."

Orient Express

The Simplon Orient Express stops in Innsbruck, so I went down to the station to snap a few pictures of it.
(Here's a quick look at a cabin, which a porter graciously allowed me to take from the window outside.)

As I was waiting on the platform (the train arrived 10 minutes late) I started thinking about the differences in security measured here and in America. If I remember correctly, only ticketed passengers were able to wait for an Amtrak train on the platform. After 9/11, the one or two times I took the train, I needed to provide a photo ID when I bought my ticket, and again to the conductor when he stamped my ticket. I was assigned a seat as well. Passengers were informed in the station and on the train that any deviation from the rules (moving to another seat, for example) would lead in our being ousted at the next stop and, I imagined, an interrogation and a free trip to Gitmo.
In Europe, anyone can wait on the platform, even people like me who just want to snap a few photos of the train. The porters were friendly, and happily posed smiling. No one asked me what business I had being there. I'm used to this freedom, and the contrast makes me wonder what "Land of the Free" really means. I don't think it means what my government thinks it means.

Einspringen 2

Vienna, 6:45 am. I'm on the way to the U-Bahn station to catch the early train back to Innsbruck. I only arrived 16 hours before. Got a call from a chamber opera company, and a request that I come out to fill in for an ailing singer in a role I had done in Innsbruck last November. She was fit enough to act the part onstage, and so I sang for her from the pit, next to the orchestra players.
I arrived at around 3pm, checked into my hotel room and washed up, then went to meet the powers-that-be before a quick run-through of the piece with the conductor. Satisfied that I knew what I was doing, I then had an hour or so to meet a friend for a quick dinner (thanks for coming out Patrick!) and get ready for the performance. I took my place in the orchestra pit 5 minutes before curtain time, looked up at the pretty, ornate ceiling above the stage and thought, wtf am I doing here!!?? In the fall we performed this piece in German, and I re-learned the role in it's original language, which is English, just in case. This happened to be the first time I had sung it in English outside a practice room. Sometimes everything feels so natural, so normal, that it's only at the last second do I begin to think, "whoah, girl, time to concentrate on this."
Well, I did concentrate, and everything went very well. As far as I know, everyone involved was satisfied, the show went on without a hitch, I got lots of compliments and a drink after the show.

Back to this morning: the U-Bahn station was at a place I had never been before — the Stubentor (Stuben gate). I found remains of the old stone gate above the U-Bahn, and a few interesting (to me, anyway) plaques attached to them.

Above: The Stuben gate, with it's tower-gate, was the oldest of the Vienna city fortifications built between 1195 and 1250. Rebuilt in the years 1526-1680 after the 1st Turkish siege, and the city wall saved Vienna from the Turks in 1683. 1857-1864 the wall was torn down, and the Vienna Ringstrasse took its place.

The Turkish invasion! The West's introduction to pashas, harems and, above all, coffee. Legend has it the retreating Turkish troops left bags of coffee beans behind, which the Viennese found and gave a try. Finally something to chase down that Sacher Torte!
This plaque, right next to the first, gave me pause.
Dr. Balthasar Hubmaier, on March 10 1528 burned at the stake as a baptist by the Stuben gate, founder of the idea of religious tolerance, “Christ did not come in order to slaughter, murder and burn.” Source: “Heretics and Their Executors.”
The Christians of this city.
Suddenly I'm not in the mood for coffee anymore.

But here is something which seems to be unique to Viennese architecture: the elevator in the wrap-around stairwell. The only other place I've seen these is in Paris, although I admit I haven't been everywhere.

And because I can't resist the chance to brag just a teeny bit, the reason I came to Vienna last night:

Einspringen, Part 1

Yikes. Got a call at around 2pm this afternoon, from a company which is doing that piece I sang in last fall here in Innsbruck — the one where I have a mad scene, OD on pills and die. :) Their mezzo is sick, can't sing. But she's healthy enough to play the part on stage. Could I come and sing the role from the orchestra pit tomorrow night?
2 hours later I had my itinerary for tomorrow, rescheduled two appointments, unhappily bowed out of a small concert I was going to do with a guitarist tomorrow night (luckily he found a last-minute substitute for me.) All I really have to do is get there, and they will take care of the rest for me.
I hope my hotel has internet access, I'll try to blog from there. Otherwise, when I get home on Wednesday afternoon.

Weekend Rooftop Blogging: I can see my house from here

I took this picture last week up on the Patscherkofel. That's Innsbruck down there.

Tax Time

It's that time again! Every year in late February I get the big "1040 Forms & Instructions For Overseas Filers" in my mailbox. American citizen living abroad must declare their income to the IRS, although all income under $85,700 is exempt from U.S. federal tax. Which is always good news for poor expat artistes like me (but if the dollar drops much lower it might not be such good news.)
Since I permanently reside overseas and all my income is foreign-earned, my tax filing is only mildly annoying. Aside from the 1040 I submit the 2555-EZ, "Foreign Earned Income Exclusion" which demands things like how many days I was physically present in the U.S. Every year I tell myself to write those days down somewhere I can easily find them, and every year I forget to do it.
We have an automatic extension granted to us, until June 15th. For me, it doesn't matter much. If I file late, the penalty would be a percentage of what I owe, and I never owe anything. But one still has to file. Don't think I have it so easy, though, as there's still plenty of tax fun ahead, with the Austrian Finanzamt.

Out Of Town

Ah, Vienna. So much to do, so little time. Nevertheless I managed to fit pretty much in, starting with a birthday lunch (not my birthday) at a little Japanese-run sushi place near the Naschmarkt. After that some shopping and a walk through the center, just as the late afternoon sun was casting a warm glow on the city.
We took a break for Melanges in the late playwright Thomas Bernhard's old haunt, Brauner Hof. The quintessential Viennese coffeehouse: original 50s decor, rude, disinterested waiters, newspapers to pore over for hours if you wish to spend the entire afternoon. As the tourists all seemed to be over at Dehmel and Havelka, so we and the locals had the place to ourselves.

The evening was spent over dinner with friends. More visits the next day, plus squeezing in an afternoon movie (“I'm Not There”) before attending an opera performance. Drinks afterward with a few of the participants.

I made a stop in Salzburg on the way, to see some other old friends and catch up on all the gossip. On the way back to Innsbruck today I snapped this picture of one of my all-time favorite views, from the train. I didn't love living there, but it sure is a beautiful town. Oh, and it's finally snowed!

Kammerchor

I just sang a Lenten concert with the cathedral's professional chamber choir, which specializes in that super-difficult, beautiful one-on-a-part kind of stuff, the music you hear at high Episcopal city churches in the U.S. and Evensongs in Anglican churches. Here's our program from this evening:

Allegri: Miserere mei
Lotti: Crucifixus
Reger: Der Mensch lebt und besteht (Opus 138)
Mendelssohn: 22nd Psalm
Poulenc: Motets Timor et tremor, and Vinea electa mea
Barber: Agnus Dei (this is a version of the Adagio for voices.)
Mahler: Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen (for 16 voices)

It's such an experience to sing with a group that can carry off this kind of music. Although I like opera and musicals, I love this stuff. The ephemeral beauty of those clean, vibrato-less harmonies makes me feel as if I'm floating on a cloud.
Many singers say they cannot sing without vibrato, or that they can but find it uncomfortable and/or bad for their voices. I can, although I can't really say why. It just seems to be something you either can or cannot do, and not a measure of talent in any way.