If you are reading these words, it means you still occasionally frequent this blog, despite no apparent signs of life from my direction in some time. I thank you for that.
If my absence is not forgivable, I hope it is at least understandable. Like so many, the Christmas season has been somewhat chaotic for me. I have returned to New York for Christmas, a welcome respite after the whirlwind of the past couple of weeks. You see, the third phase of the CBYX program, wherein participants are supposed to be employed, begins on or around February 1. As my departure date loomed, the quiet life I have developed in Cologne began to rumble with the tremors of responsibility: end-of-semester rehearsals and concerts filled my evenings, and mornings began earlier and earlier in order to attend job interviews before class.1 Fortunately, in the midst of this merry maelstrom, there has also been time for a little bit of culture.
A couple of weeks ago, I had the pleasure of watching a performance of Pretty Ugly Tanz Köln, Cologne's premier contemporary dance company. Led by Amanda Miller, an American ex-pat, the company currently resides at the Schauspiel Köln, Cologne's most important theater. The performance which I witnessed, a medley of both Monteverdi and modern music, exhibited both the company's modernist leanings as well as its ability to construct a dance narrative. I particularly appreciate when a company makes that extra effort to communicate, because quite frankly, I usually just don't get modern dance. What Pretty Ugly does, however, is pretty nice.
That's it for now. Suffice it to say I still live, and regular updates will now resume. For my English-speaking readers, a happy new year to you. To the German speakers, ein frohes Silvester. To everyone else: who the hell are you, and how did you find this blog?
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1An often miserable experience, since the December sun does not rise in Germany until shortly before 9 am. My heart breaks for the Swedish.
Monday, December 31, 2007
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Explanations and Addenda
An associate recently took me to task regarding my comments about the English and their drinking habits. I would like to take this opportunity to publicly clarify that I am no Anglophobe.1 For instance, I usually prefer England's literary and philosophical traditions to all others. As for my dislike of English beer, well, there's no accounting for taste. I've also mentioned I don't particularly like Kölsch.
There we are. Now everyone I interact with on a regular basis should be angry with me. As it should be.
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1It's a real word. The internet told me so.
There we are. Now everyone I interact with on a regular basis should be angry with me. As it should be.
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1It's a real word. The internet told me so.
Friday, December 7, 2007
Glühwein, Women and Song
The Christmas season is in full swing here in Cologne. The Weinachtsmärkte opened fully last weekend, and to solicit them came both locals and travelers from abroad. As I have discovered, many of these seasonal travelers come from Britain specifically to visit the Christmas markets. I don't fully understand the logic behind purchasing €100 plane tickets in order to eat €2 roasted almonds, but then, the English also enjoy warm beer, so the lunacy is not without precedent.
To my great fortune, along with this English en masse emigration came Meagan, the lovely hostess of my last two visits to London. Together, she and I braved the extensive network of Weinachtsmärkte that have sprung up across Cologne like cinnamon-scented mushrooms. I bring to you now some highlights of our discoveries, which, we being hungry travelers, ended up being mostly culinary:
1. Glühwein -- For a full explanation of this marvelous substance, see last post. Suffice it to say that we drank our fair share.1
2. Poffertjes2 -- To be fair, the credit for this one goes to a Dutch acquaintance I made in Bonn a couple of weeks ago. Evidently a seasonal favorite in Holland,3 Poffertjes is breakfast transformed into the most unhealthy confectionary dessert imaginable. While Poffertjes poses as a mere waffle cup filled with miniature pancakes, the real magic of this dessert comes in the condiments. Appropriate toppings include syrup, butter, powdered sugar, whipped cream, Nutella, or preferably, all of the above. Sprinkle that bad boy with Baco-Bits and you've got the next American breakfast favorite.
3. Reibekuchen -- Also known as Rievkooche in Kölsch, these deep-fried potato pancakes make an excellent follow-up to Poffertjes if you somehow haven't managed a heart attack yet. Reibekuchen are usually served immediately after being cooked, so it is customary to eat them with a cooling condiment such as apple sauce, or if it's your second helping, Pepto-Bismol.
4. Himmel un Ääd -- I must exonerate Meagan and clarify that she did not at any time sample this unique dish. Himmel un Ääd translates to "heaven and earth" in the local dialect. It is so called because it is a mixture of mashed apples and potatoes, the apples which reside in heaven (i.e. on branches) and the "apples" which reside in earth (i.e. potatoes). Somewhere along the line, the Kölsch community decided to make this culinary concoction their own by adding blood pudding into the mix,4 a development I can't help but think of as the cooking equivalent of the snake entering the garden.
There's more to do at the Weinachtsmärkte than just eat and drink, of course. Particularly predominant are small shops and rides for the children. That said, having too little funds to purchase €15 Christmas tree ornaments and too much self-respect to ride the carousel,5 Meagan and I mostly browsed.
With the arrival of Advent also came my first major concert of the season. I have been singing with three choirs at the Hochschule, two of which are directed by Marcus Creed. Professor Creed has proven to be a prodigious conductor. He is generally reserved and quiet in demeanor, but he brings out a superb level of concentration and execution from the singers with whom I have seen him work. Among his other obligations, he directs both the Hochschule's main choir and its chamber choir, the latter of which I performed with on Wednesday evening.
I sang with the Claremont Chamber Choir through college, and I have grown to appreciate the sound a group of dedicated singers of that size can create. Even with that experience, I was very curious to hear what the chamber choir here would sound like. Though many of my colleagues in Claremont were music majors, this was an entire choir of music students, many of them with years of vocal training behind them. Thus I had little idea what to truly expect from the experience.
Our concert on Wednesday took place at St. Georgs, one of the smaller old Romanesque cathedrals. One could guess (rightly) by the modern look of town around St. Georgs that it was heavily damaged in the War. In its refurbished form, St. Georgs offers wonderfully resonant acoustics, ideal for an a capella choir. We performed two song cycles, one by Reger and another by Brahms, as well as a modern setting by James MacMillan of a medieval prayer titled "O Bone Jesu." It is easy to forget in the midst of preparing works of music that an audience will be listening with entirely different ears. So as the final note of the concert faded into the walls of the church, I was not sure what to expect from the little crowd in St. Georgs that night. They must have liked it, because they brought Professor Creed back for a total of five ovations, generous even for a German audience.
The past wonderful week did not come without repercussions. Regrettably, after spending my days out in the rainy markets and my nights rehearsing in a cold church, I have finally fallen ill. The doctor doesn't think it's anything serious, just a winter virus. At first, when I heard all I needed was probably some rest and lots of fluids, I was delighted. As it turns out, however, Glühwein doesn't count.
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1Which, at €2,50 a glass came to one cup each. I can get a full bottle of wine for less than that. And I do.
2Pronounced by saying "Puffered? Tch! Yes!" quickly.
3I have no way to confirm or deny his claim, but I have my doubts. Almost all the Dutch I have met are very thin, and no one could eat Poffertjes with any regularity without resembling a Germanic Wilford Brimley, both in weight and diabetic condition.
4And you know they didn't pick something like blood pudding on a lark. There had to have been trial and error involved, which just makes me wonder: what didn't make it?
5Fine: they wouldn't let me. Are you happy now?
To my great fortune, along with this English en masse emigration came Meagan, the lovely hostess of my last two visits to London. Together, she and I braved the extensive network of Weinachtsmärkte that have sprung up across Cologne like cinnamon-scented mushrooms. I bring to you now some highlights of our discoveries, which, we being hungry travelers, ended up being mostly culinary:
1. Glühwein -- For a full explanation of this marvelous substance, see last post. Suffice it to say that we drank our fair share.1
2. Poffertjes2 -- To be fair, the credit for this one goes to a Dutch acquaintance I made in Bonn a couple of weeks ago. Evidently a seasonal favorite in Holland,3 Poffertjes is breakfast transformed into the most unhealthy confectionary dessert imaginable. While Poffertjes poses as a mere waffle cup filled with miniature pancakes, the real magic of this dessert comes in the condiments. Appropriate toppings include syrup, butter, powdered sugar, whipped cream, Nutella, or preferably, all of the above. Sprinkle that bad boy with Baco-Bits and you've got the next American breakfast favorite.
3. Reibekuchen -- Also known as Rievkooche in Kölsch, these deep-fried potato pancakes make an excellent follow-up to Poffertjes if you somehow haven't managed a heart attack yet. Reibekuchen are usually served immediately after being cooked, so it is customary to eat them with a cooling condiment such as apple sauce, or if it's your second helping, Pepto-Bismol.
4. Himmel un Ääd -- I must exonerate Meagan and clarify that she did not at any time sample this unique dish. Himmel un Ääd translates to "heaven and earth" in the local dialect. It is so called because it is a mixture of mashed apples and potatoes, the apples which reside in heaven (i.e. on branches) and the "apples" which reside in earth (i.e. potatoes). Somewhere along the line, the Kölsch community decided to make this culinary concoction their own by adding blood pudding into the mix,4 a development I can't help but think of as the cooking equivalent of the snake entering the garden.
There's more to do at the Weinachtsmärkte than just eat and drink, of course. Particularly predominant are small shops and rides for the children. That said, having too little funds to purchase €15 Christmas tree ornaments and too much self-respect to ride the carousel,5 Meagan and I mostly browsed.
With the arrival of Advent also came my first major concert of the season. I have been singing with three choirs at the Hochschule, two of which are directed by Marcus Creed. Professor Creed has proven to be a prodigious conductor. He is generally reserved and quiet in demeanor, but he brings out a superb level of concentration and execution from the singers with whom I have seen him work. Among his other obligations, he directs both the Hochschule's main choir and its chamber choir, the latter of which I performed with on Wednesday evening.
I sang with the Claremont Chamber Choir through college, and I have grown to appreciate the sound a group of dedicated singers of that size can create. Even with that experience, I was very curious to hear what the chamber choir here would sound like. Though many of my colleagues in Claremont were music majors, this was an entire choir of music students, many of them with years of vocal training behind them. Thus I had little idea what to truly expect from the experience.
Our concert on Wednesday took place at St. Georgs, one of the smaller old Romanesque cathedrals. One could guess (rightly) by the modern look of town around St. Georgs that it was heavily damaged in the War. In its refurbished form, St. Georgs offers wonderfully resonant acoustics, ideal for an a capella choir. We performed two song cycles, one by Reger and another by Brahms, as well as a modern setting by James MacMillan of a medieval prayer titled "O Bone Jesu." It is easy to forget in the midst of preparing works of music that an audience will be listening with entirely different ears. So as the final note of the concert faded into the walls of the church, I was not sure what to expect from the little crowd in St. Georgs that night. They must have liked it, because they brought Professor Creed back for a total of five ovations, generous even for a German audience.
The past wonderful week did not come without repercussions. Regrettably, after spending my days out in the rainy markets and my nights rehearsing in a cold church, I have finally fallen ill. The doctor doesn't think it's anything serious, just a winter virus. At first, when I heard all I needed was probably some rest and lots of fluids, I was delighted. As it turns out, however, Glühwein doesn't count.
--------
1Which, at €2,50 a glass came to one cup each. I can get a full bottle of wine for less than that. And I do.
2Pronounced by saying "Puffered? Tch! Yes!" quickly.
3I have no way to confirm or deny his claim, but I have my doubts. Almost all the Dutch I have met are very thin, and no one could eat Poffertjes with any regularity without resembling a Germanic Wilford Brimley, both in weight and diabetic condition.
4And you know they didn't pick something like blood pudding on a lark. There had to have been trial and error involved, which just makes me wonder: what didn't make it?
5Fine: they wouldn't let me. Are you happy now?
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