Obama’s Domestic Challenges (11 cents)

I thought that Matthias Nass, of Die Zeit, got it right in this month’s edition of The Atlantic Times.  To quote:

“Back home, Obama is battling Congress to make good his promise to close down the infamous Guantanamo detention center; endeavoring to subject America’s capitalism gone wild to rules intended to prevent or at least curb the excesses of greed, avarice and sheer managerial irresponsibility; and attempting to reform a health system that exposes even middle class citizens to the risks of life more brutally than anywhere else in the civilized world.”

Don’t Avoid Chekhov – The Seagull at 16th Street at Theater J

I think there may be some of us for whom a Chekhov play is not very enticing.  We think that they are boring, and dated, and formless, and filled with confusing Russian characters with too many polysyllabic names.

This is a false assumption.  Chekhov’s plays have been continually performed for 100 years precisely because they are beautifully structured, universal in theme, contain just the right mix of drama and humor, and are highly enjoyable.

This is the case with the unique adaptation of The Seagull, called The Seagull on 16th Street, playing at Theater J now through July 19.  We saw it last night.

The Seagull is set in turn of the (last) century Russia, at a country estate far from Moscow.  A place where visitors wish they could stay forever, and those that live there want to take the next train out.  It is a play about theater.  The two central characters are mother and son.  The mother is a star of the Moscow stage, playing all the grand roles.  Her son, stuck at the estate, wishes to break free of his mother’s influence, and create a different, more modern form of theater.  The mother, jealous of her son (and of every young woman of theatrical amibition), frustrates, berates and insults him at every turn.  The other main characters (the young woman who lives on the neighboring estate, the famous author on whom the famous actress dotes, the aging brother of the actress who lives at the estate, the doctor on whom everyone has always lavished attention, the overbearing manager of the estate) all play their roles in this comedic drama of universal emotional interest.

At Theater J, artistic director Ari Roth, working with translator Carol Rocamora, has made several changes to the play.  Notably he made Arkadina (the mother) and Treplev (the son) Jewish, and Treplev’s attempt at creating a new form of theater is not an attempt to create early 20th century Russian avant garde theater, but rather a new form of Jewish theater.

What can one say about this unusual adaptation?  I would suggest that one can say that it neither adds to the original Chekhov, nor detracts from it.  And, further, that saying this makes for a very positive statement.  For who would have thought that you could change the cultural background and religion of the two main characters of The Seagull, and not wind up with something a little hokey?  But this production is not in the least hokey; it is a very strong production of The Seagull, a play which in any event gives one a lot to think about, with an added dimension, an added element of interest.  What does it mean to live this “meaningless” existence in rural Russia, with the world passing you by, where the most realistic thing you can think about is escaping to the theater, when, among everything else, you are Jewish?  Do you try to escape the Judaism, as Arkadina does, or embrace it, as Treplev attempts?

I said that the cast is strong, and it is.  To say that I particularly enjoyed the performances of Alexander Strain as Treplev, Jerry Whiddon as Tregorin, and Veronica del Cerro as Nina would be true, but it would be unfair to the other members of the cast, all of whom put in very strong performances.

Attendance has not been good at this show.  Probably because Chekhov does not automatically appeal.  But don’t avoid it because it is Chekhov.  Go see the show for this reason.

This week (11 cents)

1.  The Restaurant.  Le Chat Noir, a French restaurant on upper Wisconsin Avenue, is my new favorite.  And that is saying some, since we have had so many nice meals lately.  We went there on a Saturday night.  I had a cold, lime-marinated thinly sliced grouper in a 360 degree ring around a perfectly dressed and generous spinach, celeriac and red onion salad.  My companion (i.e., spouse) had baked cod in some sort of a red (in color) anise (in flavor) sauce with what looked like a fresh artichoke heart vegetable stew, and a scoop of yellow (Yukon?) mashed potatoes.  I think it is her new favorite, as well.

2.  The Music.  We sat out on a blanket last night at Strathmore Hall in North Bethesda, where during the summer they have free Wednesday night programs.  Each is different.  This was is Latin jazz played by a group calling itself Calle Sur, with four musicians, the leaders of whom were a blond Colombian whose last time is Stein, and a Panamanian, whose last name is East.  Go figure.  The music was very enjoyable – relaxing, intoxicating, not overly challenging to the ear, familiar to a large extent, fun.

3.  The Magazine.  While watching Calle Sur, I had a chance to read through this month’s Vanity Fair (one of my more enjoyable regular monthly pursuits).  While I really had no personal interest in Heath Ledger’s last days, and not much more interest in what Christopher Hitchens thinks about the British Labour Party today, there were three articles that are worthy of everyone’s attention.  Todd Purdum’s article on Sarah Palin gives a good rundown of all the embarrassing things that have beset her, and some insight on the feelings that developed amongst the McCain campaign advisors as time went on (Palin did not cooperate with the article).  Likewise, Nina Munk’s description of why the Harvard endowment portfolio lost billions of dollars, and its effect on the university has some interesting comments on how the endowment was managed, and how endowment funds were over committed, conflicts between administration and fund management, and departure of many fund managers.  And, best of all, Michael Lewis’ article on AIG provides a lot of information as to how that company all of a sudden began backing subprime mortgage funds and ignored all of their previously tightly scrutinized financial research, attributing it to a personnel change at the top, which led to a change in the entire atmosphere at the company.

4.  The play.  Having heard a reading of The Cherry Orchard last week, this time we went to hear a reading of The Three Sisters, all in preparation for the full staged production of The Seagull which we will see tonight.  The reading was very good, the play very funny (it was the David Mamet version of the Chekhov original), but we left at the intermission, largely because the reading was delayed almost a half hour, and it was clear that the full reading wouldn’t be over until close to 11, which is pretty late for a school night, when we had early morning commitments.

5.  The book.  I recommend Noah Efron’s Real Jews, the story of the extraordinary division between ultra-orthdox and secular Jews in Israel.  Read it and weep, but read it.  The question is (as it is in various Islamic states) whether religious fundamentalism can co-exist with democracy, when the tenents of the religion are so anti-democratic in a western sense.

6.  The baseball games.  We saw the Nats beat the Braves on the 4th of July, but since then……….As a recent columnist put it: this team is so much less than the sum of its parts.  I still would start with a change of manager.

Last night on the DVD (3 cents)

He’s a tailor, a loner, out of place in Paris.  He lives in a small apartment.  Looking out his window, he sees another apartment building and focuses on one apartment, where an attractive young woman lives.  “Rear Window”-like, he sits and stares for hours, for days.  He learns she has a boyfriend.  He learns her boyfriend is responsible for the recent death of a 22 year old woman in the neighborhood.  He becomes concerned about her safety.  He falls in love.

To the police inspector, who appears throughout the movie, the murder case in unresolved.  The tailor, because he is such a loner, because he doesn’t fit in.

Eventually the tailor meets his neighbor.  She learns how visible her apartment is from his.  She learns that he has been observing her.   She appears to be both horrified, and curious.  They develop a (platonic) relationship.  He believes that she finds him attractive.  He believes he can save her, and must.  He has a vacation home in Switzerland.  They talk about going there.  He buys her a ticket.

At the appointed time, he goes to the railroad station.  She is to meet him there.  She doesn’t show up.  He goes back to his apartment, despondent.

When he gets there, he finds his neighbor and the police inspector in his apartment.  The inspector holds the purse of the murdered woman.  He tells the tailor that she has told him that he killed the girl.  Will he confess?  Clearly, she is trying to save her boyfriend, and perhaps always expected to turn attention to the tailor.  The tailor is beyond shock.  He turns.  He runs.  He goes to the roof.  He jumps.  He dies.

He had left a note for the inspector.  The inspector finds the note.  It proves how the boyfriend had committed the murder.  It talks to the innocence of the neighbor.  It talks about how he has taken her to Switzerland.  Where they will live happily, and she will escape the dangers from her brutal, murderous boyfriend.

The story was written by Simenon.  The movie is called “Monsieur Hire”.

Foods I Don’t Like At All (in alphabetical order)

avocados

cantaloupe

celery

cucumbers

egg whites

gin

honey dew melon

iced tea

milk (to drink)

plums (fresh)

potatoes (boiled)

rum

sprouts

water melon

yellow squash

A Movie, a Short Book, a Lecture (6 cents)

The Movie.  We were rained out of our plans to listen to Welsh music on the grounds of Strathmore last night, and had to settle for a DVD.  We chose “Mr. Klein”, a 1976 Joseph Losey directed film, starring Alain Delon, a Holocaust story that could have been written by Franz Kafka.

One Robert Klein is a non-Jewish art dealer in Paris in 1942, making money buying art very cheaply from Jews in hiding or about to leave the country.  Another Robert Klein appears to be a Jew in hiding, who goes deeper in hiding when he leaves his apartment and gives, as his forwarding address for mail and everything else, the address of the non-Jewish Robert Klein.

Thus, the non-Jewish Robert Klein gets identified as being Jewish, and must prove his non-Jewish geneology.  Well, this proves to be difficult, and of course there are relationships that each Robert Klein had that must be sorted out, and one thing leads to another, and things don’t get better, and the gentile Robert Klein wants to get at the bottom of things, and won’t let go of his search for the “whys and wherefores” of his being targeted until he finds himself……….. (you need to see the movie for that).

This film won a number of awards, both for direction and for Delon, as well as for several technical aspects.  It keeps you going, and there are so “I thought that would happen.  How could he be so stupid?” moments, but there are too many “That’s just too coincidental”, or perhaps “That’s too quick for me to follow” moments.

For one thing, where did the dog come from, and is it the same one?

For another, how did Isabella/Francesca/Cathie get in the same train compartment with Robert Klein?

And, oh yes, Jeanne Moreau is also in the picture.  She gets top billing with Alain Delon on the DVD cover.  You’ll enjoy seeing her.  Unless, of course, the 3 minutes when she appears happens to be when you went to the bathroom.

A Short Book.  I believe the title is Ineada, and it was written by the mother of a good friend.  The author, born near Krakow, went underground at the start of WWII, escaped to Hungary and in 1944 to Romania, boarded one of three ships leaving the Black Sea port of Constanza illegally for Palestine, saw her ship lose power on the Black Sea and, with the rest of the passengers, was rescued by the citizens of a tiny Turkish fishing village, Ineada, where they were protected until they eventually got passage on another ship to Haifa.

Each of these events was drama-filled, much more so than those that “Mr. Klein” encountered, as all 400 on ship seemed to have survived, but few have told the tale.  The short book has been published in Israel in Hebrew only, but our friend and her daughter have translated it into English.

Just last month, our friend and her husband took their first trip to Turkey, went to Ineada, and had an extraordinary and unexpected time, meeting the local historian, who has written a book, published in Turkish, about his village, including a chapter on the ship, the Bilbul. And they met an elderly woman, in her late 80s, who remembers the incident, and remembers our friend’s late father.

The Lecture.  Cambridge Professor Christopher Kelly has written a book, just published, about Attila the Hun; he spoke at the Smithsonian Tuesday at noon.  His premise was that, as so little is really known about Attila and the Huns, much of what is said about them (and all very negative) comes from speculation, sometimes speculation from so long ago that it has been morphed into historical truth.  He wanted to go back to the sources, and see if he could find evidence that would challenge the written histories.  It does not seem to me, from listening to him, that he succeeded.

From what we seem to know, the Huns appeared from somewhere in the east in about 370 C.E., created a vast, if somewhat loose, empire stretching from the Asian steppes to Central Europe, and disappeared within five years after the death of Attila in 452 C.E.  They conquered areas on horseback with great brutality; they murdered, they raped, they stole and they burned farms and villages to the ground.  Twice they threatened Constantinople, and they successfully raided northern Italy (refugees from Attila’s onslaught left the mainland and founded Venice), although never went as far as Rome.  They pillaged much of France.

They were very powerful, seemingly more powerful than Rome at the time.  They negotiated sophisticated treaties; they understood the politics of the time.  They were clearly quite a sophisticated force. Were it not for the defensive walls of Constantinople, it would have been sacked.  The Romans were, in fact, paying tribute to the Huns at this time.

Where did they come from?  We really don’t know.  Did they return to Asia after the breakup of the empire?  We aren’t sure.  They were nomadic, but how did they live?  We haven’t much of a clue.  What language did they speak?  Hunnic, but we don’t know what that was (we only know one word of Hunnic, as reported by a Roman historian, Priscus, who said that the word for “funeral” was “strava”, a word which apparently gives no clue as to etymology).

I am sure that there was more detail here than Kelly gave in his well-delivered lecture; looking at Attila on Wikipedia, you see areas of knowledge or presumed knowledge of the Huns that were not referred to by Kelly on Tuesday.

Kelly relies greatlly on Priscus, a contemporary Roman historian, who wrote eight books of history, only small segments of which are extant.  Some of his writings on Attila remain, and they form the only contemporary report of his person and activity.  Priscus met Attila at his court somewhere north of the Danube, and describes a more complex and “civilized” personality than has been handed down through mythical sources, and Priscus apparently attended his “strava”.  How realistic Priscus’ writings are, as opposed to semi-fictions drafted for the reading public, is unclear to me, however.

The part of Kelly’s talk that I enjoyed the most was his description of Constantinople in the 5th century.  How regal was the Christian Roman court, how majestic the palaces, and collonades and boulevards of the center of the city, how strong the city walls, which had held out against the first onslaught of the Huns.  Then came, in 447 C.E., a devastating earthquake destroyed much of the city, including much of the city walls, the strongest in the empire, toppling over 50 percent of the walls’ towers.  A great surprise, since the city felt its splendor and power emenated from a Godly source. The emperor walked from the destroyed palace the seven miles to the breached walls barefoot and in simple dress.  Working with the city prefect, organizing the followers of the city’s dominant sporting teams, the Blues and the Greens, into competing factions, working day and night, the walls were rebuilt within 60 days (to hold tight another 800  years).  The reason for the extraordinary effort to rebuild the walls was known to the emperor and the prefect and few others:  the Huns under Attila had crossed the Danube and were heading south towards the city.  Seeing the rebuilt walls, the feared attack never came.

So, an interesting talk, but much is still a mystery.  “Mr. Klein” would have felt right at home.

Next the Movie

“The Diving Bell and the Butterfly” won the Golden Globe Award for best foreign language film of 2007.  It received universally strong reviews.  It is one of the more unusual pictures I have seen.  I recommend it.  But you need to be prepared.

It is a true story (although some of the people involved have claimed that the film is not accurate), the story of the editor of Elle magazine Jean-Dominique Bauby, who, at age 42, suffered a sudden and massive stroke, leaving him completed paralyzed.  Well almost completely – he was able to blink an eye.  He was also able to think and remember – his mental facilities were not affected.  He could hear, and understand.  He could see. He had what was called “locked in syndrome”, which you can look up on Wikipedia.

He was told to say “yes” by blinking once, and “no” by blinking twice.  He had a physical therapist who was extraordinarily devoted and (most of the time) patient, who would recite the letters of the alphabet, one at a time, until he blinked, and she would write it down.  In this way, he communicated, and in fact wrote a book, a memoir,  that was published in France.  The book is called The Diving Bell and the Butterfly.

This strange, and horrific, story is made stranger by the movie, because it is narrated by Bauby, as if he is talking to you, while unable to communicate to the world.  You are hearing his thoughts.  And they may be life-inspiring, but they are never pleasant thoughts.  His predicament is so incredible.

The movie was nominated for four academy awards, and director Julian Schnabel won Cannes’ best director award.

Many years ago, on the “Alfred Hitchcock Presents” TV show, I remember an episode starring Joseph Cotton as a man injured (I think) in an accident, who found himself in the same situation.  Everyone thought he was dead.  He couldn’t even blink his eyelid.  He was in the mortuary, about to be embalmed, when a single tear rolled down from his eye……That’s when the story ended.  That would have been in the 1950s.  I was quite young.  I had a very strong reaction (as you can see, since I remember the show today).  I wonder if Bauby saw the show and said, like I did, “that can’t happen….can it?”

Let’s Start With Food (12 cents)

This is a catch-up posting reviewing recent restaurant visits:

1.  Zaytinya (Olive in Turkish) is a mezzo (i.e., tapas) restaurant at 9th and G, NW.  We went for a father’s day brunch, and it was excellent.  I had two things – “Patata Harra”, cubed potatoes, a homemade sausage, a moderately spicy cilantro sauce, and a absolutely delicious poached or lightly fried egg on the top, and an order of kasar cheese, a Turkish lamb’s cheese.  We also had three dips – hummos, htipiti (red pepper and feta cheese), and taramosalata (made from carp roe) on the restaurant’s light, puffy not-quite-pita.  Zaytinya is owned by the same folks who own the Jaleo restaurants, Spanish tapas restaurants, where we are to eat with friends on Thursday. “A”

2.  Busboys and Poets, at 14th and T, NW, where I went twice, for brunch on a Sunday and supper before a book signing program.  The brunch was simply scrambled eggs and toast – perfectly done.  The supper was a simple mahi mahi sandwich – perfectly done.  This a very casual, very friendly place, with performance/lecture space and a “progressive” bookstore attached.  (There are now three Busboys in DC.) “A”

3.  Shangri La, at 7345A Wisconsin in Bethesda.  A new Indian/Nepalese restaurant serving, in elegant fashion, organic food.  We had supper, a appetizer that was similar to, but not quite, pakoras, a simple vegetable biryani (that was filled with fresh vegetables and not overloaded with potatoes), and an okra stew.   As local Indian restaurants go, I think this is one of the best.  “A”

4.  Thai Tanic, 1326 14th St NW, Washington, is an ordinary Thai restaurant (which means that it is pretty good, but not exceptional), in a crowded space, which can get a little noisy.  But it’s a good before-the-show place, even if the best thing about it may be its name.  I don’t remember what I ate, but on each of my visits (like 3), the food has been quite good.  “B”

5.  Logan Tavern, P Street between 14th and 15th NW.  We’ve been here many, many, many times, and I am tired of it.  The food always used to be very good, then good, and now fair.  I don’t like the bread that they serve particularly, but they stick with it and have served it from the day the restaurant opened.  I talked to the waiter about this; he seemed to think it was OK, but in fact, this is what I think is wrong with the place.  The last time there, I had their big chopped salad with chicken.  It was OK, but when you look at the menu, which you have seen so many times, and decide on the big chopped salad, you know something must be wrong.  “C”

6.  Baldwin Station, Sykesville MD.  There are only two or three restaurants in Sykesville, and this one occupies the former B & O Railway Station.  It is a restaurant/bar with at least three separate dining areas.  We were there for lunch.  I ordered fish and chips, and then warned myself against fried foods.  The potatoes were not greasy, and I thought above average (I only ate about half of them), and suprisingly the fish pieces were large enough that I could cut away the fried exterior, and have some excellent fresh tasting cod.  “B”

7.  Moby Dick, Bethesda (also on N Street of Connecticut in DC).  This is one of those places where you order at the counter and then bring your meal to your table.  Quite informal.  I had a swordfish shish-kebob, which was very, very tasty.  You can get it with salad or rice, or by itself.  Unfortunately, although it needs something to make it into a meal, the rice was ordinary, and the salad equally so.  “B”

8.  Cosi.  For a salad at lunch, I find Cosi always hits the spot.  I normally either get the vegetarian Signature Salad or the Shanghai Chicken Salad.  The bread (choice of white or whole-grain freshbaked flatbread) is as good as the meal.

9.  Au Bon Pain.  This is my other normal lunch choice.  I had an Arizona chicken sandwhich (I think that is what it’s called) – nice piece of grilled chicken, cheddar cheese, tomatoes, romaine and mustard on sun dried tomato bread.  Very nice.  And here, I hardly ever order the same thing twice.  “B”

10.  Austin Grill.  I remember the days when the Austin Grill in Glover Park was a favorite for a casual meal.  No more.  In fact, it’s not there any more.  It is still in other places, including 8th and E, NW, Washington.  I went in for lunch today, ordered a chopped salad with chicken.  It was filled with beans and corn and slivered tacos, and all sorts of other things, and it was spicy, spicy, spicy.  This just is not a good place any more.  “C”

The Tsars and the East ($2.05)

“The Tsars and the East” is the name of a major exhibit at the Sackler Museum of the Smithsonian Institute.  It will be on display through September 13.

The exhibit features 65 items from the Moscow Kremlin that were gifts to the tsar by statesmen, royalty, nobility and merchants from the Ottoman Empire and Persia, primarily in the 15th through the 17th centuries.  Many of these items have never been out of Moscow before.

During this period of time, there was extensive trade between these various empires, and shifting, but continuing, political alliances.  Gift giving was a matter of protocol when diplomatic or commercial enterprises entered the Russian empire.  Except for certain gifts that may go directly to the tsar or his close family, all gifts were taken to the Kremlin, where they were catalogued and recorded, and detailed records kept of their provenance.

The items on display at the Sackler were “masculine” in nature.  Swords and scabbards, daggers, shields, helmets, maces.  Saddles, stirrups, saddle blankets (caparisons), bridles and other equine related items.  Clerical robes.  The fabrics came from the southern empires, the work was sometimes done in Turkey or Iran, and other times in Russia, in the Kremlin workshops.  Gold and inlaid gems predominate.  Tulip designs and Arabic inscriptions.

All in all, a very nice, and informative, exhibit.

Wine and its Aftermath (3 cents)

Remind me never to drink white wine again.

It seems that, whenever I drink white wine, I have a restless night and a heavy head.  It happened last night (I had two glasses of an Italian pinot grigiot).  This does not happen when I drink red wine.  But 20 years ago or so, the situation was reversed.  White was my wine color of choice and I shied away from red, for the same reason I want to shy away today from white.

So I am trying to figure out what has changed.  The possibilities are:

1.  Nothing has changed.  I just don’t remember 20+ years ago clearly.

2.  The wines have changed.

3.  My physiology has changed.

4.  It is a matter of what you typically drink (i.e., if I started drinking white wine regularly and not red, I would find myself having trouble with red wines, but not white).

5.  It is all psychological; nothing has changed at all.

6.  Some, all, or none of the above.

And the answer is?