Rain: Substantial Rain Last Night (Feb. 25, 2011)

Substantial rain again last night--amid talk of possible snow over the weekend. We got 1.3 inches overnight, raising the total for the current rainy season (July 2010 to end-June 2011) to 24.2 inches. That's right in line with the historical average of 24.13 inches for February 25. Average annual rainfall in Santa Rosa has been 31.01 inches historically.

Plants I'm Growing--First Blooms: Two-toned Daffodils (2011)

First blooms today on the two-toned daffodils in the garden. I don't know the name of the variety in this case, but it's distinct from any of the more common all-yellow daffodils. I was sure I noted the first blooms on these last year, but I can't find the record. I didn't post anything to the blog, it seems. I'll amend this if the data turn up. I think I planted these in late 2008. This should be their third year blooming. In any case, they're pretty. I will probably plant more. They provide a nice contrast with the yellow flowers (also blooming right now).

I took this photo of them late at night in the rain (the things I do for this blog....), which resulted in a somewhat surreal image. I used a flash. A drop of water is caught suspended in mid-air at lower left. You can even see an image of the flower within the water droplet.

[I found the information I was looking for. The two-toned daffodils bloomed on February 22 in 2010, for a year of 367 days.]

Birds I'm Watching: Spring Lake, Santa Rosa (Feb. 23, 2011)

I took a walk around Spring Lake today for the first time in a while, trying to get a little exercise and enjoying the sunny, relatively warm weather. I didn't see anything unusual, but there were a lot of birds around--36 species (which is moderate for Spring Lake, but a lot of individual birds). There were many Pied-billed Grebes (14!) and there were Yellow-rumped Warblers everywhere (I counted 22--13 of the Myrtle type, three of the Audubon's type, and six that I didn't see well enough to tell which). There were probably more than I actually counted. After a while, it's hard not to start feeling blasé about them when there are so many--still, despite being common at this time of year, they are pretty birds.

Otherwise, I saw Crows, Turkey Vulture, two Red-shouldered Hawks (which may have been a pair; one was carrying nest material. They were hanging around the tall evergreen trees at the south end of the lake. I wonder if a nest will appear there?), many House Finches, including an orange one, Steller's Jay, Oak Titmouse, White-breasted Nuthatch, Scrub Jay, California Towhee, Spotted Towhee, Nuttall's Woodpecker, Chestnut-backed Chickadee, Anna's Hummingbird, Common Merganser, Coots, Canada Geese, my first Tree Swallows of the year, Double-crested Cormorant, Ruby-crowned Kinglet, Common Moorhen, Buffleheads, Mallards, Red-winged Blackbird, Brewer's Blackbird, Lesser Goldfinch, Golden-crowned Sparrow, White-crowned Sparrow, my first Green Heron of the year, Black Phoebe, Robin, Flicker, Ring-billed Gull, Hermit Thrush, and Ruddy Duck. A fair number of usually present birds escaped me today--notably juncos and egrets. The Mallard hen in the photo posed rather obligingly.

For more information about Spring Lake and bird watching in Sonoma County generally, see my Website Sonoma County Bird Watching Spots.

Books I'm Reading: Bruce Catton's Civil War Trilogy

Perhaps I was dimly aware that 2010 marked the 150th anniversary of the start of the US Civil War, but it wasn't really on my mind when recently I turned to reading Bruce Catton's three-volume history of the conflict (Phoenix Press, 2001, but, originally published 1961-1965, to mark the Civil War centennial). I received the set as a birthday gift years ago. I just happened to get around to the books at what has turned out to be an appropriate time.

Totaling 1,430 pages, the trilogy (The Coming Fury, Terrible Swift Sword, and Never Call Retreat) is considered by many to be the definitive treatment of the conflict between the North and the South, but I think first of Shelby Foote's trilogy (Vintage, 1986; Fort Sumter to Perryville, Fredericksburg to Meridian, and Red River to Appomattox), simply because I read it first--probably 15 years  ago now, in the mid-1990s. Speaking in the broadest terms, the two authors have done much the same thing--painted a comprehensive picture of the causes of the war, looked at the struggle itself, and then considered the state the Union was in when fighting ended and after Lincoln's assassination. The story, constrained as it is by fact, is the same. However, the flavor of the two sets of books is rather different.

I must admit, I preferred the Shelby Foote books. When I read them, I thought it difficult to imagine anyone doing better. I still feel that way, but the Catton trilogy is well written, enjoyable, and recommendable.

The main differences, it seems to me, are in how the writers feel about whether the South could have won the war and in the way the two use anecdote. Foote suggests that indeed the South might have won and that the victory of Federal forces over the South was not inevitable. If I remember correctly, I was well into volume two before I began to relax--that is, before I began to feel reassured that the story would end the way I knew it had to end, with the utter defeat of the South. Catton concedes that the Southern soldier was a determined fighter, that the South won many important battles, and that northern generals were oddly ineffective early in the war, but at every turn he takes pains to suggest that it didn't matter, that the rebels never really had a chance--mainly because of inadequate resources. Both men are right, of course, but Foote somehow gets better mileage out of the drama.

Foote is a master of the anecdote. His narrative is deftly interwoven with vivid sketches of people and particular events that stick in the mind. I can recall many of them even fifteen years later--even if at this remove I'd have to go back to the books, search the stories out one by one, and reread them before I could with confidence recount any one of them in detail. Whose death was it that was supposedly heralded by a pair of Mourning Doves? Which confederate general was in danger of being hacked to death by a lone Union cavalryman that happened upon him when he was unescorted? Who brought in carpenters to extend Lincoln's too-short berth on the boat that brought him to see Grant at the front? What was the story about Jefferson Davis and confederate gold? As I say, I'd have to re-read the three books, but the flavor of the writing created by Foote's liberal use of the particular has remained etched in my mind and the books were riveting at the time. I remember the pleasure of reading the details more than the details themselves, but the books were indeed a great pleasure to savor. Catton's style, although fluid and clear, is comparatively unadorned with this kind of color.

One particular effect of Foote's style was that he left me with a much greater sense of the horror of battle in the 1860s. Essentially the Civil War was a war fought with modern weapons (repeating rifles) but still in many instances using the tactics of the past (with men, inexplicably, still consenting to stand in rows and shoot each other to death at close range). Beyond such subjects as the effects of bullets and artillery on infantry and the realities of amputations and other battlefield medicine, Foote discusses defensive works and armaments in more depth than Catton, he talks about paroles, prisoner exchanges, and prison camps, and he goes into greater detail and into a greater number of battles than Catton (for example, covering the Red River Campaign, which Catton mentions only in passing). Foote left me feeling as if I'd been there from Sumter to Appomattox. In short, Foote's account was more vivid and colorful and it was farther-ranging.

Comparing the two and arguing about which is better seems to be a much-played game. I amused myself last night for an hour or so reading posts on various Websites by partisans on both sides of the argument. Those that prefer Catton seem to fault Foote mainly for a comparative lack of footnotes, casting aspersions on his sources by implication, although nobody seems to have specific lapses to point to; the critics claim a general uneasiness and favor Catton for being an historian rather than a storyteller. I, for one, am willing to take it on faith that Foote wasn't making things up as he went along, and telling a good story seems no fault to me.

Some that prefer Catton suggest Foote's account is tainted by Southern sympathies, Foote being a southerner himself. I felt he struck a rather good balance, and I say that as a Northerner (if anything--it's not really part of my self-image); I lived a short spell in St. Louis, but I was born in New York, lived a long time in Ohio, and my Civil War ancestors were Ohio volunteers, mustered out of Holmes or Stark County. One fought at Chattanooga, Lookout Mountain, and Missionary Ridge, and was wounded at Chicamauga (my mother has the bullet he was shot with). He was among the many German immigrants granted US citizenship in exchange for a three-year stint in the blue uniform of the Union. He left the service at Marietta, Georgia close to the end of the fighting. Another ancestor was captured at Gettysburg and died in Andersonville Prison.

What no one seems to disagree about is that these trilogies are the finest two overviews of the Civil War we have. Perhaps the best approach is to read them both, Catton, then Foote. Follow that with Jay Winik's excellent April 1865: The Month that Saved America (Perennial, 2002; first published in hardcover by HarperCollins, 2001)--a superb book focused on the very end of the war, Lincoln's assassination, and the nation's halting new beginning after the war--and you're likely to come away with a very well-rounded appreciation of the meaning of the US Civil War and its aftermath.

[Update: Not long after reading this, I read Doris Kearns Goodwin's Team of Rivals (Simon & Schuster, 2005)--another excellent Civil War book.]

Found Art: Abandoned Truck, Santa Rosa (February 21, 2011)

Near the YMCA in Santa Rosa is a large open field that is full of little-used moving vans painted with bold lettering. Bold but faded and old. Interesting abstract shapes. Found art.

For more found art, see my blog Serendipitous Art.

Food I'm Eating: The Olive Project Continued (January-February 2011)

It's been just over three weeks now since I determined to try to make olives--eating olives, that is--from the bitter black fruit on our backyard olive tree. I went into the project with a fair amount of skepticism, having tasted unpleasant homemade olives in the past. Tasting my efforts now after three weeks in brine, I'm pleasantly surprised. The bitterness is all gone. The olives have a nice fruity quality. Best of all, it was a rather easy thing to do. My only reservation is that they taste a little saltier than I would like. I wonder how you regulate the saltiness? That seems rather hit or miss. Perhaps by adjusting the brine? I used 1/4 cup of salt for each quart of water. Nevertheless, I'm inspired to do another batch already.

These will sit in the brine another week or so, then I'll package them (in jars, still in the brine, with a layer of olive oil on top. They're supposed to keep that way for a month or two).

My original post on the subject of making olives

The olives before starting their soak in brine (left: each berry has been scored with a knife blade, to allow the brine to penetrate; below, the more-or-less finished product).

Rain: Another 1.6 Inches (Feb. 17-19, 2011)

Since last reporting, we've added another 1.6 inches to our total rainfall for the 2010-2011 rainy season (which will end on June 30, 2011). The total now stands at 22.40 inches at my location. The historical average for February 18 is 22.50 inches in Santa Rosa, so we are now right in line with what has been normal over the years. Normal annual rainfall for Santa Rosa is just over 31 inches.

[Update: overnight on the 18th and in the morning of the 19th added another 0.5 inches of rain, bringing the total as of noon February 19 to 22.90 inches.]

Plants I'm Growing--First Blooms: Santa Rosa Plum, "Flavor King" Pluot, "Pink Snowflakes" Rhododendron

A number of plants have come into bloom in the garden in the past couple of days: the Santa Rosa Plum I planted two years ago as a pollinator for the pluots, the "Flavor King" Pluot, and the "Pink Snowflakes" rhododendron. The pluot Dapple Dandy" is now in full bloom as well.

"Flavor King" began to bloom on February 13, the Santa Rosa plum on February 14, and "Pink Snowflakes" today (February 16). The Santa Rosa plum is in the first photo, the pluot "Flavor King" in the second. "Pink Snowflakes" is below. The Santa Rosa plum calculated a year of 356 days this year, 364 days last year. "Flavor King" calculated a year of 363 days this year, 375 days last year. "Pink Snowflakes" calculated a year of 357 days this year, 367 days last year. Interestingly these six data points average to just under 364 days, very close to an actual year.

Miscellaneous: Notes of Coca (February 5, 2011)

Another unfortunate sign at my local Whole Foods.... I think that should be "Notes of cocoa." Then again, this is coffee from Peru. Maybe they DID mean notes of coca?

Rain: Rain Forecast for the Whole Week (Feb. 14-16, 2011)

The forecast is for rain this entire week. It started yesterday, Valentine's day, and rained most of the day. This morning it seems to have stopped, but more is on the way, judging from the clouds. Yesterday and overnight we added 0.95 inches, bringing our total so far for the 2010-201 rainy season to 19.40 inches, somewhat below the historical average for February 15 of 21.78 inches in Santa Rosa. Normal annual rainfall for Santa Rosa is just over 31 inches. The season goes through June 30.

[Update: Overnight on the 16th, a fairly vigorous storm blew in and dropped another 1.4 inches at our location, bringing our 2010-2011 total to 20.8 inches. That leaves us about an inch below normal, but I suspect we'll catch up quickly.]

Plants I'm Growing--First Blooms: "Ray Hartman" Ceanothus (2011)

The first blossoms on the large "Ray Hartman" ceanothus in the side garden opened yesterday, February 10. The plant grows very successfully trained as a small tree. Only a few flower clusters have opened so far, but in a week or two, it will be at its peak, covered in dusky blue, fragrant flower heads. I wish the tree bloomed longer than it does, but for a brief period each year, it's dazzling. The plant bloomed on February 22 in 2010, thus it has calculated a year of 353 days.

Found Art: Street Markings, Santa Rosa, (February 10, 2011)

More street markings. These are on Mayette Ave., in Santa Rosa, where numberless cracks in the surface of the roadway have been repaired with thick ribbons of asphalt. These that I've photographed happen to be near a crumbling crosswalk in two shades of yellow. I liked the tire marks, too. Found art.

For more found art, see my blog Serendipitous Art.

Plants I'm Growing: Ribes Aureum (Golden Flowering Currant) 2011

The first buds broke yesterday (February 9) on the large golden flowering currant bush out by the beehive. Only a few have opened--prompted by a sudden wave of warmth; it was in the upper 60s here today, the high 70s a few days ago, setting new records for Santa Rosa and many cities in the area. Soon the plant will be a mass of yellow. The bees love these flowers.

This plant bloomed on February 15 in 2010 and February 2 in 2009, calculating a very long year of 378 days last year and a short year of 359 days this time around. The two years average to 368.5 days. 

Plants I'm Growing--First Blooms: Prunus Blireiana, Pluot "Dapple Dandy"

Our double pink-flowering plum tree (Prunus blireana) and the pluot "Dapple Dandy" started blooming the day before yesterday, February 4. The flowers were coaxed out by suddenly warmer weather--it got up to 80 degrees in Santa Rosa today and it was in the mid-70s yesterday. The pink plum bloomed on February 17 in 2009, but I can't find a record for 2010. Relative to 2009, however, the plant has bloomed somewhat early. I'm still not sure what "normal" is.

"Dapple Dandy" bloomed on February 15 in 2010, for a year of 354 days. The tree first bloomed on February 5 in 2009, for a year of 355 days. I hope the rains will hold off during the bloom period this year. It's been several years since the tree has produced a decent crop of fruit.

Music I'm listening to: Chee-Yun, Alisa Weilerstein, and Jeremy Denk, with Marek Janowski Conducting the San Francisco Symphony

Last night, Friday February 4, I attended a San Francisco Symphony concert featuring Chee-Yun, Alisa Weilerstein, and Jeremy Denk as soloists, with Marek Janowski conducting an all-Beethoven program that opened with the Symphony No.1 followed by the Triple Concerto, and, after intermission, the Symphony No. 2.

I hate to complain, but the concert last night was rather uneven, I thought. As is so often the case at concerts (although not usually in San Francisco), the first piece on the program gave the impression that the performers weren't quite warmed up. I suppose it was competently played, but there wasn't much excitement to it. I'm afraid I felt much the same way about the Triple Concerto, which ought to have been the centerpiece of the program. No oomph, and Weilerstein seemed to be unsure about where her entrances were, despite having the score in front of her. All three of the soloists used scores. I guess that's OK, but it's a bit unusual--not that I could remember the solo part to Yankee Doodle.

Part of the problem was the odd dead spot that I'm increasingly convinced really does exist at Davies Symphony Hall. I was in seat Y107, just under the overhang of the balcony. At other concerts sitting in this area (most recently Gil Shaham and Itzhak Perlman) I've noticed that the sound is very muddy, and especially in the lower registers of the various instruments. It appears most marked when a solo instrument is playing over the orchestra.

This is particularly unfortunate in the case of the Triple Concerto. Chee-Yun's violin was usually crisp and had presence, the piano was audible throughout, but Weilerstein's cello, especially when she was playing on the lower two strings, seemed to disappear at times--as if she were miming, her fingers and bow moving but producing no sound. Too often, she was simply inaudible. That was disconcerting, to say the least, but it was especially disappointing in the many sections of the concerto that involve a conversation among the three solo instruments: The cello wasn't talking. I wonder if others in the audience had the same impression? [I just looked back at my most recent previous posts that touch on this problem: At the Gil Shaham concert, I was in Y107--the same seat. At the Perlman concert, I was in seat 107, two rows back, in AA107. Clearly there's a pattern here.] Chee-yun looked lovely in a magenta gown, Weilerstein wore a dress of a pretty amethyst color.

The performance of the Syphony No. 2, however, was excellent. The conductor and musicians seemed finally to have connected, and we were treated to a lively, nuanced performance of Beethoven's second symphony, which seems to me an altogether more self-assured, more interesting composition than his first. The woodwind section was a stand-out, as it usually is at the San Francisco Symphony.

Photo of Davies Symphony Hall courtesy of the San Francisco Symphony.

Birds I'm Watching: Bodega Bay (Feb. 5, 2011)

I joined a Madrone Audubon group today for a day of birding at Bodega Bay--and there were a lot of birds around. The group saw nearly 80 species. I saw 63 of those:

Common loon, Red-throated Loon, Pacific loon, Clark's Grebe, Western Grebe, Pied-billed Grebe, Horned Grebe, Eared Grebe, Brandt's Cormorant, Pelagic Cormorant, Common Murre, Pigeon Guillemot, Brant, Cackling goose, Canada goose, Bufflehead, Canvasback, Gadwall, Common Goldeneye, Mallard, Red-breasted Merganser, Ruddy Duck, Harlequin Duck, Long-tailed Duck, Greater Scaup, Surf Scoter, Eurasian Wigeon, Coot, California Gull, Glaucous-winged Gull, Herring Gull, Mew Gull, Ring-billed Gull, Thayer's Gull, Western Gull, Forster's Tern, Black-crowned Night Heron, Great Blue Heron, Great Egret, Snowy Egret, Black Oystercatcher, Dunlin, Marbled Godwit, Black-bellied Plover, Semipalmated Plover, Sanderling, Surfbird, Least Sandpiper, Western Sandpiper, Black Turnstone, Ruddy Turnstone, Whimbrel, Willet, Turkey Vulture, Northern Harrier, Sharp-shinned Hawk, Red-tailed Hawk, Kestrel, Peregrine Falcon, Kingfisher, Pigeon, Black Phoebe, Crow, Raven, Scrub Jay, Bewick's Wren, Starling, Yellow-rumped Warbler (mostly Myrtle), Brewer's Blackbird, House Finch, Song Sparrow, and House Sparrow.

Not bad for a single day's birding. I got some excellent looks at the Red-throated Loon (photo), but the highlight was the Long-tailed Duck, a life bird for me.

For more information about Bodega Bay and bird watching in Sonoma County generally, see my Website Sonoma County Bird Watching Spots.

Plants I'm Growing--First Blooms: Rhododendron "Noyo Dream," Yellow Daffodils (2011)

First blooms today on the Rhododendron "Noyo Dream." The plant bloomed in 2010 on February 7 and in 2009 on Februray 25, which makes this seem quite early. The plant has thus calculated a year of 360 days this year following a year of only 347 days in the preceding year. These average to 353.5 days, still a short year.

The first yellow daffodils opened today as well. The first yellow daffodil bloomed on February 5, in 2010, for a year of 362 days, much closer to a calendar year.

Food I'm Eating: The Olive Project (January 2011)

There are two olive trees in my garden. One I planted, the other was here when I arrived. The one that came from a nursery bears no fruit. The one already here was a mere bush ten years ago. Somehow it turned into a tree while I wasn't paying attention. It's now about 30 feet high and this year, for the first time I can remember, it's heavily laden with small purplish black fruits--olives. The optimists of the world say that if life gives you lemons, you should make lemonade. Given fresh olives, I decided I should make olive oil or proper olives for eating. Making olive oil requires equipment that I don't have and large quantities of olives reduce to rather small amounts of oil, it seems, so curing the olives for eating made more sense. Having made that decision, I had to admit to myself that I had no idea how to transform a terribly bitter, astringent, fresh olive (ever bit into a fresh olive?) into one of those tasty salty orbs we all know and love.

I did have some idea, actually. Rightly or wrongly, I seemed to think that making olives involved lye and salt, but I wasn't exactly sure. Not that long ago, I would have headed to the library at this point, but I turned instead to the Internet and learned there are four principal ways to make olives--more if you count some of the variations. Fresh olives can simply be soaked for weeks in water. With daily changes of the water, bitter components leach out of the fruit to yield an edible product. But that seemed too simple. No romance in that.

At the other extreme is the method involving lye. Essentially, lye accelerates the result that water achieves--removal of the bitter components (mostly phenolic compounds and the glycoside oleuropein, according to Wikipedia). Somehow lye seems as unromantic as plain water, though--and dangerous to boot--so I rejected that idea. The other two methods rely on salt. Fresh olives can be simply packed dry in salt for long periods or they can be soaked in brine. As this last method seemed easiest, I opted to try brine-curing the small black olives the tree in the garden produces.

After picking several pounds of olives, I went back to the Internet and more carefully read the directions I'd found for making brine-cured olives. I was a bit annoyed at myself when I read that the skin of each olive must be broken. I wouldn't have picked so many if I had imagined making an incision in the side of each of the 800 small olives I had to process, but it turned out to be relatively easy work, taking only about an hour.

I made a brine solution of 1/4 cup salt to one quart of water and dumped it over the olives, which I had washed once (enough brine to ensure that all the olives were submerged). I covered the container and set it aside. Yesterday, after three days (stirring the solution and the olives once a day), the cover suddenly popped off. The olives had started fermenting. I hadn't read anything about fermentation or allowing gases to escape, so I assumed fermentation was not a good thing and added more salt in the hope of stopping it. Reading more today, I see that it's normal and the container is not supposed to be tightly sealed. In any case, the fermentation seems to have slowed. There is less bubbling going on. I'm not sure that has anything to do with the extra salt or not. I have no idea whether the water is now too salty, but I'll be changing it in a couple of days anyway. My recipe says that curing the olives will take about six weeks (with the brine renewed once a week). Already the olives are more palatable than they were fresh, so, I'm optimistic. Now, it's just a waiting game..... Stay tuned.

[Update: The Olive Project--Continued]

Rain: Half an Inch Overnight (Jan. 30, 2011)

Clear, cold, and sunny this morning, but we had 0.5 inches of rain overnight. Last night's rain was the first after a dry spell of a little more than two weeks. The dry spell was a nice respite from the seemingly incessant rain of the preceding weeks, but long enough to get people worried about too little rain again this year. The experts say that a mid-winter lull is not uncommon, though, and I expect it will rain quite a bit more before long. So far, we've had 18.45 inches at this location (my house) in the 2010-2011 rainy season. The historical average for January 30 in Santa Rosa is 18.04 inches. We remain above average--although by a fairly slim margin now--but other locations in Santa Rosa have reported about two inches more than we have had. Normal annual rainfall for Santa Rosa is just over 31 inches. The official 2010-2011 season lasts until June 30, 2011.

Art I'm Looking At: San Francisco Fine Print Fair (January 29-30, 2011)

Once a year, usually at the end of January or first week of February, some of the best fine print dealers in the country converge on San Francisco's Fort Mason Center to show and sell prints and drawings. The quality of the offerings is consistently very high. You can find just about anything--from old masters to contemporary work by local artists, work ranging from under $100 to tens of thousands of dollars. One of my favorite among the local artists is David Kelso, who appears to live and work in Oakland. He makes prints using traditional methods--mostly etching and aquatint--but layered in complex and unusual ways (the first photo is one of his works). I always enjoy seeing the show, even if I don't buy anything. The show is going on again today, January 30th, from 11:00AM to  5:00PM.

Birds I'm watching: Spring Lake (Jan. 26, 2011)

I took a quick walk around Spring Lake yesterday. Although I did see my first Fox sparrow of the new year, there was nothing unusual. Still, a walk around the lake is always pleasant. The highlight was this Pied-billed grebe that popped up in front of me out of the glassy, still water.

For more information about Spring Lake and bird watching in Sonoma County generally, see my Website Sonoma County Bird Watching Spots.

Found Art: Sewer Lid and Parking Lot Blue, Santa Rosa, (January 25, 2011)

Where I live, parking spaces reserved for handicapped drivers are marked in blue, a fairly unusual color for pavement markings (most are yellow or white, occasionally they are red). This is a fragment of the blue marking a handicapped space that happens to be atop a sewer inlet. Found art.


For more found art, see my blog Serendipitous Art.

Miscellaneous: Funny Crackers

I came across this display at Whole Foods this morning. An ordinary stack of cracker boxes. The boxes read "Assorted Entertainment Crackers." Then I read the sign.

Do they tell jokes?

Music I'm Listening to: Sharon Isbin and the Santa Rosa Symphony

Today I attended the matinee performance of the Santa Rosa Symphony's concert set with soloist Sharon Isbin. On the program were Suomalainen Tango, by Pablo Ortiz, Rodrigo's Concierto de Aranjuez, Piazzola's Tangazo, and Symphony No. 4, by Carlos Chavez--mostly unfamiliar music, all with a latin flavor. The Symphony was conducted by guest conductor Enrique Diemecke.

Once again, an energetic, enthusiastic guest conductor has given us a glimpse of what the Santa Rosa Symphony is capable of at its best. Although the concert on Sunday was uneven, its best moments were good indeed. The concert opened with Suomalainen Tango. I suspect I would have enjoyed this a great deal if the ensemble had been awake. I don't mean to be harsh, but throughout the piece I got the impression that the performers and the conductor were failing to communicate--I had that feeling you get when a film soundtrack is out of synch with the lips of the actors. Diemecke kept asking for volume and sweep that he wasn't getting and the players didn't seem to get the feel of the rhythms of the piece.

I had just the opposite impression when listening to the final work on the program, the Chavez Symphony No. 4--a piece that seemed to straddle the romantic and the modern; suddenly, the Santa Rosa Symphony was alive. Dynamics, tension, and timing all seemed right, but the music was rather more abstract and less engaging than the Ortiz--which is not to say I didn't enjoy it. It was a pleasure to see the conductor getting so much out of the performers, but it's often hard to fully take in an extended work like this on first hearing. I'd like to hear the Chavez again.

Piazzolo's Tangazo was interesting for its stark contrasts. The piece opens quite darkly, without a hint of the title's promised tango, only to suddenly break into the sort of strongly rhythmic music that makes you want to get up and dance in the aisle. The recognizably tango section is marked by the use of unusual percussion and extended techniques in the strings (such as bowing behind the bridge and sharp, fast glissandi), all to good effect--and sometimes startling enough to provoke a few giggles. Adding to the fun was the conductor's rather physical style, using his whole body, not just his arms. In places he seemed to be dancing to the music he was helping to create. He ended each piece (and began each of his appearances on the podium) by throwing his arms wide open in a flamboyant "ta-da!" gesture the crowd clearly enjoyed. The performers seemed to enjoy it as well. When called to stand for acknowledgment, several of the musicians threw the gesture back at him, much to the delight of the audience. After a somewhat melancholy, lyrical middle section, the music drifted back through more traditional tango rhythms before regaining the dark flavor of the opening. Well done all around.

Sharon Isbin was the reason most people were at the concert, of course. Every seat was filled (something I've never seen before at the Luther Burbank--I mean, Wells Fargo--Center for the Arts), and I noticed that a few people left at intermission, after the performance of the Rodrigo. Isbin's playing was beautiful, particularly in the slow middle movement. At times it sounded as though she was playing a lute and at others a harp. Although the clipped, precise, muted style the conductor chose for the accompaniment gave a somewhat less lush overall effect than it seems to me this piece should have, all in all the Santa Rosa Symphony handled it very well, I thought.

Isbin played an encore from her Grammy Award-wining CD Journey to the New World, with Joan Baez and Mark O'Connor (Sony Classical 88697-45456-2), Andrew York's "Andecy." Oddly, Ms. Isbin did not get a full standing ovation. In Santa Rosa you can cough with a little bit of style and get the entire audience on its feet. No reflection on the performance: I got the impression that Isbin's presence brought out a more-than-usually geriatric crowd with a fair number of people elderly enough that they couldn't stand up. Sad, but true. Where are our young music lovers?

Photos of Enrique Diemecke and Sharon Isbin courtesy of the Santa Rosa Symphony.

Plants I'm Growing: First Blooms--Daphne Odorata, Candytuft (2011)

Somewhat belatedly I report that the first buds on the big Daphne under the coral bark maple tree opened recently--on January 21, to be exact. Soon the entire bush will be covered in the tightly clustered white blossoms blushed with pink and smelling of citrus and perfume. This is probably the most fragrant plant in the garden. It's a slow grower and finicky, but this one seems to be happy. A second bush planted last year appears to be coming along well (in bud, but not yet blooming), but it's toppling and needs to be staked; night creatures have been scraping at the earth at its base--probably raccoons or skunks, looking for food.

Daphne odorata bloomed on January 18 in 2010 for a year of 368 days. The plant bloomed on January 20 in 2009 (a year of 363 days). So far, Daphne has calculated an average year of 366.5 days--very close to an actual year. I imagine people of long ago who lived closer to the land and paid attention to these things didn't really miss calendars. The signs of the passing of time are everywhere.

I note also first blooms on the Candytuft (Iberis) in the garden--although this one's very hard to call. There are about five of these in the yard and they all bloom at slightly different times and over a long period. The first flowers open slowly and sporadically. It's hard to say exactly when the plant first comes into bloom. A month from now, the little bushes will be covered in starkly white flowers of very cheerful appearance--nice to have when the weather is still cold. Taking today (January 23) as the first day of bloom, however, the plant has calculated a year of 367 days (I chose January 21 as the first day of bloom in 2010) and a year of 364 days in the preceding year (first blooms were on January 22 in 2009). The average year so far is thus 365.5 days according to Iberis--again, very close to a calendar year.

Found Art: White-washed Graffiti, Santa Rosa, January 22, 2011)

High on a wall above an abandoned building I found this patch of graffiti, white-washed, but barely covered. The sun was just about to disappear under the horizon. Found art.

For more found art, see my blog Serendipitous Art.

Books I'm Reading: Desperate Passage

Having just returned from a few days skiing at Lake Tahoe near Donner Lake and having several times in the past seen the lake that bears the Donner name and known it was associated with the ill-fated emigrants, I decided this time to find out exactly what happened to them. At a local bookstore I picked up a copy of Ethan Rarick's Desperate Passage: The Donner Party's Perilous Journey West (Oxford University Press, 2008). Carefully researched and based mostly on the primary sources, the book is a well-written history of the 1846 tragedy. It has an extensive bibliography and an excellent index (too often missing). At the same time, Desperate Passage  has the feel of a page-turner; I read the book in two sittings. I know it's a cliché, but I couldn't put it down.

In a nutshell, the group suffered its horrible fate primarily for two reasons. First, its leaders chose to take an untried "short-cut" that turned out to be entirely unsuitable for wagon traffic over the mountains that separate California from the deserts of Nevada; it ended up costing them a month or more rather than saving time. Second, the group got a late start on what was supposed to have been a four-month journey across the continent and suffered many delays along the way (aside from the problem with the so-called shortcut). A late arrival risked snow and entrapment in the Sierras even on the established routes into California. Unsurprisingly, the Donners and the families traveling with them became snowbound before they could cross the mountain range and into California. About eighty people were trapped (many of them children). Thirty-six of them died.

Rarick follows the crossing of the continent starting at Independence, Missouri, the entrapment in snow by Donner Lake (then known as Truckee Lake) near the California-Nevada border, the ordeal of months of starvation and cannibalism, and the rescue of the survivors--which was as perilous (or more so) than most of the crossing--all in heartbreaking detail. The sections on cannibalism are gruesome, but fascinating. Rarick discusses the course it took in the case of the Donner Party but also touches on the history of cannibalism in extreme situations more generally and he even manages to get in data that give a good idea of how starvation affects the human body--and the mind--without allowing the momentum of the story to wane. Although the author maintains a somewhat detached tone that neither sensationalizes nor downplays the trials the group lived through, the portraits of the people involved--both those trapped and their rescuers--are vivid.  If I remember correctly, Thomas Hardy once said that a good story should deal with the experiences of ordinary people in extraordinary circumstances. The tale of the Donner Party certainly fits that bill.

On a personal note, I realized as I was reading that I followed almost exactly the same route across the United States as the Donner Party (although in the opposite direction) when in the summer of 2009 I felt compelled to hop in my car and drive to Ohio. I crossed into the Lake Tahoe area from the California side; drove across Nevada (much of the way along the course of the Humboldt River); crossed the Ruby Mountains in Utah and south of the Great Salt Lake*; I followed the Platte River, by Chimney Rock and Scott's Bluff in Nebraska (prominent landmarks for wagon trains); and passed through Independence, Missouri, the jumping off point for most of the wagons that headed west. It was a very long trip even in an automobile. That I traveled old roads is not that surprising, I suppose; in France, the highways are often built on top of Roman roads; the US highway system often follows the routes of the westward-moving pioneers and the overland express services that flourished before the telegraph. Still, it all seemed a bit eerie.

In a recent post about the skiing, I uploaded a photograph of Donner Lake taken from Donner Pass, the point at which most of the survivors eventually made it out of their little hell. While writing about my trip in the summer of 2009, I posted a few comments about the Scott's Bluff area, although at that time ignorant of the connection with the Donners.

*Come to think of it, I passed north of the Salt Lake on the way east. I did the section south of the Salt Lake on my return trip, going the same direction the Donner Party headed.

Wines I'm Drinking: 2004 Newell Vineyards "For 2" San Antonio Valley Cabernets/Petite Sirah

Tonight I tasted the 2004 Newell Vineyards "For 2" San Antonio Valley Proprietary Red. The wine is from a producer and wine growing area I know little about, but I see from Internet research that the San Antonio Valley is at the southernmost end of Monterey County at a fairly high elevation in the Santa Lucia range, not far from the ocean, which provides the warm days and cool nights wine grapes respond to so well. Wine growing in the area goes back to the Spanish period and Mission San Antonio. The wine is 70% Cabernet Sauvignon, 15% Cabernet Franc, and 15% Petite Syrah. Brief tasting notes follow.

Medium-deep purple-red. Oak, vanilla, tobacco, and leather predominant on the nose. Good tannin, concentrated. Still seems quite young, especially at first. Only moderately fruity and fairly soft (in the sense of not being at all sharp or acidic). Decent length. Fruit seems masked at first. Some chocolate flavors on the finish. Later, the tannins softened markedly and some nice cherry flavors developed. Not especially profound, and the wine still seems young, with veiled fruit, but a decent bottle that seems likely to continue to improve for a few years. Might be worth laying down a bottle or two if you can find it at the Grocery Outlet price (see below). If you drink this now, I recommend decanting it and allowing it some time exposed to air before pouring. Reasonably priced at $7.99 a bottle at Grocery Outlet in Santa Rosa. The wine sells for $18.50 a bottle at the winery.

I write about many subjects. Use the labels at right above to explore this blog. For more wine reviews, use the Wines I'm Drinking label. 

Found Art: Lichen in the Sierra Nevada (January 18, 2011)

While skiing at Sugar Bowl and Tahoe Donner over the long weekend, I encountered wonderful lichens on the rocks and trees at over 8,000 feet. Found art.

For more found art, see my blog Serendipitous Art.

Places I'm Visiting: Skiing at Lake Tahoe (January 18, 2011)

Got back from skiing last night at Lake Tahoe. It was unseasonably warm, the snow slushy, the sun merciless. It was fun nevertheless. I got in two good days of skiing. Went to Sugar Bowl for the first time. I rather liked it. I'd like to ski there again. There's a lot of the upper intermediate/expert terrain I like and it's less expensive than places like Squaw Valley.

The resort is a stone's throw from Donner Lake and the Donner Pass. On the way home, we stopped at the monument marking one of the Donner Party camps. Above the monument and the lake, at the summit of the pass, is an excellent view of the area that trapped the group. After rescue, the survivors climbed up the rocks that were at my feet when I took the photo below. A fabulous sunset followed this. At a local bookstore, I picked up a copy of Desperate Passage (Ethan Rarick, Oxford University Press, 2008), which looks like a good account of the tragedy. On the wall of my mother's house there hangs a small drawing of a bird in a red frame by Tamsin Donner--a direct descendant of the original Tamzene Donner, wife of George Donner, one of the leaders of the ill-fated group.

[Update: After writing this post, I read and reviewed Ethan Rarick's excellent book about the Donner Party and its ordeal, Desperate Passage.]