Rome in 9 Hours, Siena in an Evening

Ciao, Tutti!

I apologize for my lack of blogging, but it seems time is shorter than I remember it being. I won't be able to finish the Greece post, though I think I've done enough. I just know that I didn't talk about the Hephaestus temple, which impressed me because it was so completely preserved, and the last day, when Mom and I were so tired and didn't want to do anything, but we ended up just browsing the flea market looking for gifts and had a great time. In brief, that's what I've left out. But so much has happened sine then it seems I can't dwell on anything until I get that covered. And I can't even dwell on that.

Music Announcements

Today I would like to start with the music announcements because since my arrival from Greece a lot has happened, though none of it has been confirmed until just recently. To provide you all with a broad itinerary:

Saturday, June 28, 9:00: The Inspiration Sextet live at the Bluesix Acoustic Room on 24th and Treat street, San Francisco. This will be the first performance of Guest Artist and a celebration both of the year-release of "Summer Victory Dance" and the final six months of the disastrous Bush presidency. A very special day for me in my life, the day where the band gets its name. Julian Pollack will probably be a guest artist (ha ha) for the second set, also special because June 28 is his birthday.

Sunday, August 17, 8:00 The Inspiration Sextet live at the Jazz School in Berkeley, Addison Street between Shattuck and Milvia. We will perform a different rendition of Guest Artist in my last show as a teenage band leader. I will also take advantage of the electricity we will have there that we won't at Bluesix to play as many instruments as makes sense, which includes both guitar and voice (I haven't played guitar in a concert for more than 4 years, and I have never sung live before!) Also a special surprise for my brother, whose birthday is two days later.

Thursday September 25, 6:00 The Inspiration Sextet live at the Bowery Poetry Club, New York City. We will perform Guest Artist live in New York, a fitting celebration of my first 20th birthday (only 20th birthday). I have a knack for booking shows on dates that are meaningful for some reason.

Each show will have a different second set, and I'm trying to make the long Guest Artist different for each show as well so that there is a good reason to go to all of them if you have the chance. Of course, that's probably impossible, so the New York show will probably be quite similar to one of the shows in the Bay Area. But one thing I can guarantee is that there will be a reason to see both of the Bay Area shows if you're in town for them both. I have yet to work out the specifics of that plan, but it will come to be.

The day after the Bluesix confirmed with me the Jazz School wrote to me saying that the 17th opened up. It was very exciting, though now I have to deal with having two shows that fit about 100 people per show and trying to put all my effort into making both of them better than anything I've ever done before and filling them with people. However, the excitement helps the drive, and I'll need all the help I can to get the word out so as many people can partake in these great shows when the days come.

I missed promoting the show I played at the world famous jazz club in Florence, Pinocchio, with the NYU jazz ensemble I'm in called "New York-Italian Connection," also featuring two of my suitemates, Rob and Greg. That show at Pinocchio went great, but it was far away from where everyone lives and it rained, so the audience could have been quite a deal better. The concert we played last Saturday at La Cite, a hip cafe, drew a lot more people but I played unspeakably badly. It was ironic: I played great at the show no one I knew was at and played like sh*t the day people I knew were there. They said it was good, though, so I guess I shouldn't complain, but the drummer (an Italian named Simone, a really great guy) said he could tell I was thinking too much as I was playing, which was true.

The next Italian gig is this weekend at a place called Porto Di Mare. On Tuesday there is an international music festival at the school where we take our music classes, Il Trillo, and I will be playing there, too, as far as I know. It seems from now on every weekend has at least one gig, usually not in Florence, actually, though I am free the weekend of Passover when I will be visiting my cousin Shira in Germany, and also the weekend before finals, when I hope to go to Seville. But we have gigs hopefully in Ferrara and in Terni, plus another place, I think, but I can't keep them all straight in my mind.

On to the main show!



My friends from NYU in Madrid came for their spring break to visit Italy, starting with Venice, then Florence, then Rome in the end. Remember Kat and Amanda from the Barcelona post? They were both there, as well as another Scholar, Alicia, and two new people to meet, Genalise, whose name I can't even pretend to spell, and Stephanie. Sheila, also from the Barcelona trip, joined the party in Rome. On the bottom picture we can see our happy family:





From left to right: Me, Alishia, Amanda, Kat, Genalise, Sheila, Stephanie!

I took them to the right gelaterias and restaurants here in Florence, I suppose. I don't really know which ones are right and which ones are wrong, but they were totally impressed by the food, so I guess it worked, and they even liked my rusty Italian, out of practice due to the effort to learn even the smallest amount of Greek at the sacrifice of my Italian skills.

On Friday I took the cheap train to Rome in the morning, a 3.5 hour train ride, to celebrate Kat's 20th birthday party, the only 20th birthday party ever to be better than what mine is going to be like. I had originally wanted to stay all weekend, but we had that gig on Saturday night and I needed to be rested up, so I needed to sleep in my bed back in Florence. So I got to Rome at 12:30 and left at 9:30 (on a faster, more expensive train). Yes, I did Rome in 9 hours. Good thing I'd been there before.



Doing Rome in 9 hours is almost shoving the paradox of a grand city like Rome into your face. There is an impossible amount to see, and you could spend a lifetime there and still be discovering corners tucked away that you could never imagine. The center of the world's (or the west's at the very least) greatest empire has something for you at every turn. For a tourist, this presents a problem, because how much do you see before you feel satisfied with all you've done in the city? To see all you need to see in Rome, you have to devote much less time to what you need to see to see it all, whereas in a place like Siena or Ferrara, you not only have plenty of time to absorb all the city has to offer a tourist but you have time to get much more out of its limited amount of sights. With Rome, if you're not having a blast or seeing something amazing, you feel like you should be doing something somehow more meaningful simply because the meaning is there waiting for you to take advantage of it. Rome puts a lot more pressure on the tourist than a place like Ferrara, or even Venice, where simply being there is the main thrill.



However, as Venice showed me, the main thrill of a trip is usually found off the track that has been planned. And I have been to Rome before and I know I could always come back before I leave Florence, so I didn't put that kind of pressure into my 9 hours. I had one major sight I wanted to see, the "Ecstasy of Saint Theresa," a crazy baroque sculpture I had studied in Music History. After all, music and the visual arts aren't that different. After that, with the Rome first-timers, I assumed we were going to spend time at one of the most famous sights of the world: the Colosseum and Roman Forum. Plus, I didn't mind seeing those things again, unlike the Vatican, which I didn't really care about seeing again, not yet, at least. Everything was free because it was Culture Week in Italy, and all archaeological sites and museums were free to the public. We took a tour to skip the line into the Colosseum, though it was so bare-bones that I don't know if it really counted, but we saw the Colosseum and I could say what I remembered from last time and the books I've read. Plus, I mean, It's the Colosseum. You don't need much else. Speaking of which, the Roman Forum was closed when we were able to tear our eyes away from the colossal Colosseum, so the girls said they would come back later in the weekend. I was content taking pictures from afar and remembering writing "Song of the Siren #2" in my head last time I was there.



P.S. It was a beautiful day, and I definitely got sunburned.

Kat and her friends were tired from the week of travel, so they planned a two hour napping period before dinner and a big birthday celebration after I was to leave, so they left me the two hours to myself to see my church and do whatever I wanted. This was the time of great exploration for me. You see, I knew the "Ecstasy" was in the church of Santa Maria, but when I got to Rome I discovered there were a myriad of different churches to Santa Maria, including two that were on the street I knew the church I was looking for was on due to prior research. I plotted a course to go through to them through the major landmarks along the way. The first church, Santa Maria Maggiore, looked from the outside to be just as functional as the Roman Forum, though on the inside it proved to be more modern than I could have possibly imagined. Plus it was quite large. And, most importantly, no "Ecstasy." I had to move on. Santa Maria Della Vittoria was money, and I could tell right away from the room. We studied the "Ecstasy" in Music as an example of the baroque tradition, an overflowing sculpture, and the room made it seem plain. It was quite small compared to Santa Maria Maggiore, but it was loaded up with all sorts of colored marble and gold and other precious metals, the walls lined with exquisite sculpture and painting. It was overwhelming, headache-inducing, even. By the time i had finally gotten used to it at all the evening services were starting, and I had to leave with just a short time spent looking at the sculpture I was looking for in the first place.



The Outside of Santa Maria Maggiore

Now I make a long story short, because I saw an incredible amount in the hour or so I had left. I would look at a map and choose a landmark somewhere close to me and see it. If there was a church or an interesting looking street, I'd go in, sort of like exploring Venice without going over the bridges. In the end, I managed to see seven fountains, 4 churches, a gate to the city, two piazzas, and the sun setting over Vatican City.


Sunset at Vatican City

Of course, there was one thing else. At some point I decided that it would take a major accident to stop me from seeing the Pantheon, one of my favorite buildings from the last time I was in Rome. This whole trip I was on a mission to take the pictures I didn't take last time I was in Rome with my family. Last time I only took one picture in Rome, a shot of the Forum. This time my camera was going crazy, and even though the Pantheon was quite a bit out of the way and down streets that made a somewhat difficult maze, I had made up my mind to see the Pantheon and not be late for dinner. Turns out the last part was unavoidable. But the thrill of walking as fast as I could past the igniting street lamps toward the ultimate goal... I felt like I was really there, not just a normal tourist with a limited understanding of Italian and a map, but like I was really getting into the spirit of the city. It was a wonderful feeling, an earthy connection to the roots. It felt like creating experiences instead of just letting them come to you.



The Pantheon was also free for culture week, which was nice, and all the scaffolding I remembered from the last time I was in Rome was gone. It was quite a different experience to see the circle cutout in the ceiling by night, no light filtering through at an angle that gives the impression of ancient clock or calendar. But in a way looking up at the night sky was more peaceful, more a testament to the architectural achievement of the builders. I felt the sky closer to me in that building than almost anywhere I'd ever been, a feeling of being outside and inside all at once. It wasn't like camping where you lie under the stars and partake momentarily in the natural world. Now the sky was coming into the man-made world I was used to, not though a window like I'm used to. I guess it's pretty hard to explain, but suffice to say that I really like that building. I was happy the rest of the day and throughout dinner. I told the waiter to bring Kat a tiramisu while I was "in the bathroom," and he did with a candle in it. She loved it.

The music program was to go see a concert in Sienna, and I have too many fond memories of Siena to just go for just an evening and skip seeing the Duomo or the Piazza Del Campo. So I skipped my classes except composition lesson to go for the afternoon by myself. Oh, hush, you'd do the same thing. I didn't earn myself that much more time, only about 4 hours, but if I could get as much done in Rome that I did in 9 hours, let alone the 2 hours I had to myself, I could basically conquer Sienna. Which I did. It was quite easy to find the great food that I remembered, and I continued the mission from Rome to take pictures of the places I didn't last time I was there.



Nannini is the famous bakery. Siena is famous for its food, specifically for its pastries. I was supposed to get a bombolone conciocolate, but they were out of chocolate, so I got a cream filled one, a chocolate croissant, and an apple turnover. Heavenly! Especially to eat them one by one on the gorgeous shell-shaped Piazza Del Campo, a grand piazza focussed on the bell tower that imposes even more than Florence's Signoria.



There was also this meat shop with a boar's head with glasses that sold the most delicious pork that fed our family last time we were in Sienna for three days, though if we had room in our stomachs we would have eaten it all right there and then. Sadly, like the bombolone con ciocolate, this memory could not be relived, since they were out of pork. That's what happens when you get there in the afternoon: they've already sold out of what they're famous for. But at least I got to take the picture, and I hope to go back sometime. Let's see if I can get to Cinque Terre first, though. I've now failed twice to follow through with my plans to get there. More on that later.



Besides trying to relive old memories, I stumbled upon some new ones as well. The Sienna museum society or whatever its real name is has a very nice thing going on for tourists. There was a very cheap ticket I could buy at the beautiful cathedral that get me into the main museum, the crypt, the baptistery, the Duomo, and the Orology. Of these things, I had only been inside the Duomo before, though it was definitely worth going again. The thing that was so attractive about this ticket was that it granted access to an arch next to the Duomo that I remember trying to find a way to the top of with Joel last time we were there, but we couldn't figure it out. Well, this time I would get my chance.


The Duomo

The crypt, located under the Duomo, gave me my first rush of excitement. We could see the foundation of the cathedral from inside a small chamber whose walls were painted with biblical scenes, and through panes of glass on the ground we could see how much further down the support was coming from. Mom's toes would have been numb. The Duomo, like most of Siena, was built on a hill, so they had to raise most of it to the level of the facade so the main hall would be level. Last time I was there, I didn't realize this, and now I felt like I was in the heart of the cathedral, not just the part for show to everyone but the part that really made the building possible to exist.


The entrance to the lower levels of the Duomo, including the Baptistery and the Crypt

The baptistery was not as impressive as the Florence baptistery, though, like a lot of things in Siena, the frescoes, paintings, sculptures, and other works in the room were overly preserved to the point where they looked like they had just been painted recently. The important thing about the baptistery for me was that the... something... (I couldn't derive its purpose or name) in the middle bore bronze statuettes by many great sculptors of the time, including Donatello and Ghiberti, and there were also along the sides panels that resembled those on the baptistery doors here in Florence. It was fairly obvious which ones were by Ghiberti, who is now one of my favorite artists because he is simply amazing at perspective. Even the Donatello panels could not compare.


One of the Ghiberti panels

I thought the museum was very impressive, just about as impressive as the Academia in Venice, though there was not nearly as much emphasis on painting. There was the famous stained glass window originally in the Duomo facade that is now being preserved, and many sculptures, ancient books, and other treasures that have now been removed from the Duomo for the sake of preservation. There were two rooms of particular interest to me. In one there were the architectural designs for the Duomo, even down to the beautiful frescoes and the "ground carvings." Everything was meticulously planned by the artists and architects, and it was fairly amazing to see the plans that were used all those centuries ago. The other room that caught my attention the most was the room with the holy relics. There were countless relics that lined the walls of this room; an entire shelf was filled with glass boxes containing skulls of saints. There were too any relics for me to believe in their validities, though that was how it was back in the day as well. An example would be how Saint Gregory has roughly 40 fingers if you count how many of them turn up in reliquaries. The pagan nature of this method of practicing Catholicism and my proximity to these holy human remains creeped me out a bit. Though the most important item in the room was a golden rose bush with 19 flowers made out of pure gold that was given to Sienna as a holy gift blessed by the Pope. The confusing religious messages were a little too much for me and I left the room.



Skull of Saint Katherine, I think. I was yelled at for taking this picture.

At the top of the museum was the way to the arch Joel and I saw last time we were here, and I ran into a British couple and we had a nice conversation about the state of government and private funding for artistic creativity. I got a French adolescent to take the picture of me in the beginning of this section.


The arch I was on top of. I forget its real name.

For the sake of moving on, I will concede that this is the basic gist of my last two trips. It seems that I won't get the chance for much more travel as airfare rises and I seem to have concerts every weekend from here on out. I have some one-day trips in mind, like Cinque Terre that I have tried and failed twice to visit. I will try to post as soon as I can. For now, here is a video of the Acropolis I somehow left off last week's post. Enjoy!

A presto,

-Sam g

The Barcelona Affair

Ciao, Tutti!

I have just returned from Barcelona and I want to spill my guts to you all while the stories are fresh. The problem with that is that there is simply too much to say, and, as you'll see, I'll be using both photos and a few movies to tell the stories for me.

I left for Barcelona on Friday morning. First I had to take a bus to Pisa, which takes about an hour and half, and then fly over to Barcelona, which takes another hour and a half. When I got there, I was to call my friend Kat to tell her I was there and was ready to meet her and her friends. The problem was that my phone told me I couldn't make calls in Spain, and suddenly I was in a Spanish country (Oh, and it's not really Spanish that they speak there. It's something else with a name I forget) without a map, a contact, or a clue. I found my way to the free shuttle downtown, picked up a free street map from the airport, and plotted my way to the hostel, hoping to meet the rest of the group, and this is the first thing I saw:



I found out later it was the national palace, and despite still needing lunch and another four hours of sleep, I was already enjoying myself. I certainly enjoyed the spontaneity of the trip without the phone, and I was tempted to just walk up there and check it out, but I needed to get to the hostel, so I left the palace behind. Next time, maybe. I walked along the main street away from it, hoping I would find a cell phone store along the way. I was sure it would happen, but one was closed for Siesta and the other didn't actually exist, there was just a strange sign there that said "Motorola". I made it to the hostel, but the land line there couldn't connect to mobile phones, so I lost 3 Euros to a public phone, then trekked back to the store that had been closed which was now open, but didn't sell sim cards. I somehow made it to the train station that sold me a card, and I completed the 3 hour, 28 Euro call to my worried friend. We met up, I met her friends, and we went out in search of the main street and of dinner.



On the left is Amanda, a girl I know from the NYU scholars program. Next to her is Sheila, a girl with a great sense of rapping about oranges. More about that later. On the second to right is Hilary, a possible music major when she declares who liked to practice British accents. Actually, we all liked that. On the far right is Kat, who I knew from the first year in NYU, my contact in Barcelona, and the main planner of the trip. All of them live in homestays in NYU in Madrid, and they were just as puzzled by the Barcelona combination of Spanish and French languages.

We all went to the old market and bought smoothies, which was my 8:00 lunch, then went to a restaurant and had the best seafood paella I ever had, at least until the next day, which is another story altogether. Now, let's see if these movies work at all...



That was just about the end of the night for us. The girls had been on an 8-hour bus ride since 1:00 am to get there, and they were just as exhausted as I was, and we started planning the next day. It turns out Kat had been there before, so it was pretty easy to follow her planning, especially since she's a great planner in general. All I wanted to make sure of is that we would stop by the beach so I could swim (By the way, it was 60 degrees and sunny the entire time we were there) and make some time to stop in the pasterias so I could taste as much of Barcelona as possible. We went to sleep in the hostel room and I clutched my important documents to my chest all night.

Now I would like to compare this trip with the trip I took to Venice earlier, not just for the sake of rating the two places, but for the sake of rating two different styles of vacationing. In Venice there was no plan. There were the obvious major sights and then a lot of walking around to minor sights, whatever I seemed to want at the time. Barcelona left nothing up to the last minute. The spontaneous feeling I had when my phone wasn't working never rematerialized. I am still trying to absorb everything I was seeing, feeling, and thinking, while I had enough time in Venice to really spend whatever time I wanted wherever I wanted to, which was part of the reason the Vivaldi museum was such a success. It would have been no good to have less than 45 minutes in that museum for me.

In order to have the same kind of experiences in Barcelona that I had in Venice, I told my friends not to tell me anything about the sights we were seeing so I could be surprised by everything. I did no prior research about the place, and even though I knew it was one of the most beautiful of Spain's cities, I had no idea why, except that it was close to the coast, which was important to me. Unlike in Venice, which I had researched the week before and seen some of the sights from the slides in class and postcards around Florence's touristy center.

We awoke at 9:00, cooked a breakfast of eggs and fruit, and off we went.

First stop: Parc Guell. This reminded me of some strange combination of Central Park, but 3-D, and the Boboli garden's. The park was on a high hill overlooking the smoggy city like the grand vistas from Boboli, but it was an entirely artificial park like Central Park. Except, as I soon learned, the park was a creation of the famous Spanish architect Gaudi, who, I must say, did a much better job at designing the park than the planners of either Central Park or the Boboli Gardens. There were handmade grottos, somewhat like the one in Boboli, but more modern and functional rather than artistic. The picture of me at the top of the page is taken inside one. The paths all lead to the famous bench, which I thought at first must be some strange term for a new kind of building but turned out to actually be a bench. A bench that took nearly two centuries to build with all the tiles that had to be individually placed.







I had already been struck by how modern Barcelona is, and Kat and the others said that Madrid is the same way. I don't know why, but I expected the city to be hundreds of years old at the youngest points like Florence. Gaudi was working at the end of the 1800's, way ahead of his time, but there wasn't anything like the leftovers from the Renaissance you find in every corner of Florence. However, the youth of the city also meant wider sidewalks! Score!

Guadi also had a couple of his famous houses in the park, which leads me to my next video:



Next was a subway ride to the Sagrada Familia. I did not know what that was. Something about the family. Anyway, we get off the subway, and I ask when we know if we're there, and Kat says that we'll know. And we certainly did. "Oh," I said.



The last 16 years of Gaudi's life was spent on this church, and it's still not finished. You can see when they started construction again after the civil war. This is Barcelona's answer to the Duomo here in Florence, not ancient but indeed magnificent, and definitely dominant in the city sky. If you look at the vista from the park you should be able to see it through the haze. Cameras and words cannot contain this building. Please go there. We had sandwiches on the park across from the church, and we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves, though it started to gt chilly and we realized we had to put a move on if we were to make it to the beach in time for me to enjoy my Mediterranean Sea.



As if we hadn't had enough of Gaudi, which we hadn't, we went to see the three spaced-out but easily walkable houses in the city center. I don't even know what to say about them, exactly. The lines were too long to go in, and we didn't really want to anyway. They were more interestingly from the outside, as far as we knew, and Kat knew since she's been there before. Gaudi seems to be the Dali of architecture. I've never seen anything like it.



House 3



House 4



House 5

Next stop was the "cable cars" as dubbed by those who haven't been to San Francisco and seen a real cable car before. This is more like a ski lift without the skis or the snow. Amanda is afraid of heights, so she let me use her camera to take the pictures, since, same old story, mine was screaming about having low battery. I'll post those pictures as soon as she gets back to Madrid and makes them available to me, as well as putting our rap video on YouTube. I anticipate myself. The cable cars climbed up a hill to the oldest part of the city I got to see: the palace that looked over the sea. We could see the World Trade Center, the big trading port which was kind of like Oakland's, and the same panoramic view of the city we got from the other park, just from a different angle. Problem was that now the fog was starting to come in and it was very hard to see much of anything, and I decided to save my battery. Sad to say, but it paled in comparison to the mighty Fort Belvedere, but it was very nice to have a seat for a few minutes after a day on my feet. 4:30 we went to another route of cable cars that was to bring us to Port Olympiad, the main boardwalk, just in time for me to get my swim in.

That was the plan, at least. Problem was that with the coming of the fog came the closing of the cable cars to the beach due to safety reasons, so we were forced to walk down the hill and catch a subway. We learned that every map of the Barcelona subway system says something different when we got off and our transfer train actually doesn't stop there. As we recuperated and tried to think of what to do as we raced the sun to the horizon, I saw that we were very close to the train station and thus very close to that original palace, and as luck would have it that palace was close to a subway station that had a line we could use. After stopping in the corner pasteria, we made our break for it. By the way, those pastries inspired hope in me. I bought some that were like dough nut holes but a million times better, and some custard filled balls that exploded in my mouth and made me promise to exercise more so I could eat as many as I want. They were, as we say in our fake British accents, quite good.

We made it to the boardwalk, but the sun had already beat us, and I could see my breath and I knew that there was no point in my wearing my swimsuit under my pants all day. We still made it to the beach, and even though we were very hungry, it was only 7:00 or so, and in Spain they usually eat dinner at 10:00 or so, so we decided to wait until 8:00 at least, and besides, it was very relaxing to sit by the sea. This was the last image of Barcelona my camera saw before the battery died:



That's when that rap thing I was alluding to happened. Apparently while I was listening to music the night before Sheila and Amanda and possibly Hilary, but I don't know, I wasn't paying attention, were spending a fair amount of time rapping about oranges. I don't know why, and neither do they. They just kept saying, "Naranjas," in some rhythm, and suddenly we were all doing it, with me beat boxing in the background. This madness ceased when we saw that Amanda had taped the whole thing with her camera, and we watched it, causing us to laugh so hard that it made us start to cry. We had to do another about Se Bon, Vale, and Prego, the French, Spanish, and Italian words that seem to be multi-purpose and, "You're welcome." It was ridiculous. We were out of control, and suddenly it was worth it not to swim because if I had made it, I wouldn't have been a part of that obnoxiously typical American spectacle.

We ate next, which was an adventure in itself. There was a long boardwalk filled with expensive restaurants, which we were exploring until a too-nice native asked us if we were looking for something to eat, which is always a red flag for me. He promised that if we didn't like anything we could come talk to him and get out without paying, which is another red flag to me, but Kat was all for it, and Sheila and Amanda seemed to agree. Hilary and I were very suspicious that they were going to charge us extra or that it was going to be bad, and the awkward waiter seemed to confirm this in the beginning when we asked for the menu of the day which was only 17.50 compared to the 40.00 Euro dishes or the 135.00 Euro lobster, which Hilary and I were convinced they were going to try and convince us to get.

It turns out that Kat was right, as she tends to be. As soon as the waiter learned that we all spoke Spanish (except my speech was coming out as Italian way too often) it became much easier to communicate, and we certainly got our money's worth. There were three courses, wine, and dessert shots included in the price that seemed to shrink with every five-star dish that arrived at the table. Right on the ocean, the seafood was phenomenal. I don't think I've ever tried muscles before, but now I think they're the greatest thing ever. I ate the specialty tapa of bread coated thinly by tomato, and a large plate of seafood paella that is indescribable. As is my answer for a lot of things: go there. It was simply freaking good. The place is called La Fonda, and the man who made the hard sell said his name was Marco Antonio, though I don't know if that's the truth or not, but if he tries to sell you the place, you can tell him you've heard of him. Unlike the food in Venice which shut my mind off, this food put the five of us in a festive mood, and we were celebrating the day of Barcelona for three hours, able to watch some people come and go and have their tables replaced before we were finished. I was in such a good mood that I was able to try a half of a shot, which Kat says was the best liquor she's ever tasted (and she had quite a bit...), and I must say I actually enjoyed it but knew better than to try another. It went with the chocolate mousse well.

We took the subway back to the hotel to prepare for our early wake-up the next day for our respective trips back, and I prepared myself for catching my early flight without knowing how to get to the airport, then doing the rest of my laundry list of homework on the flight and bus ride back. Luckily for me, the story ends there. Of course I could talk about our sixth roommate, a Cal State Longbeach student, or the girl who would not stop ringing the doorbell in the middle of the night at the hostel, or the lizard sculpture I didn't even really get to see except through my camera and on postcards. But if I was to go into those stories, there would be too much to say.

The last thing I would like to say about Barcelona is simply a thought. In Venice I feel like I saw less than I saw in Barcelona but in more time, and, while I loved the city much more, I didn't have as great a time as I did in Barcelona with the two "old" friends and two new ones. Barcelona, in all it's modernity, seemed more like a get together in a beautiful city, where Venice was a beautiful city where I traveled with another person mainly for the sake of making it cost-efficient. In the end, though, I feel like I've experienced Venice, where I've only seen Barcelona. You know what I mean? I got a real feel for Venetian culture and custom, where I was just having fun in Barcelona in ways I probably didn't have to leave Florence to do (except to visit my friends in the Spain program). But I had such a wonderful time in Barcelona, and I have to wonder what is more important, to see the sight and to really absorb them as best you can as well as the culture, or go and have a blast and forget about tomorrow? It was surprisingly nice to relax and simply let myself be an American tourist.

Perhaps I should leave the immersion to Florence, and do what I can when I visit other places. We didn't even get to the Picasso museum in Barcelona, nor the close-by Dali museum, which I will see before I die, so I can't even claim to have seen the area's main sights in their entirety like I have for Venice. Plus, Barcelona's just a ton bigger of a city. Doing a city in basically a day and a half, trying to cram in all I can, was quite an experience, and I'll have to think a lot harder before going traveling again about how I want to visit.

No music announcements or CD review today, but do listen to Fionn O Lochlainn. He's an acoustic rock singer who writes amazing lyrics, has a great voice, and sounds like Dylan both in his style and what he sings about. As far as the music announcements go, I won't know anything new until I check my email, so there's nothing new to report.

For all of you upset at me for not putting any pictures in last week's post, I hope this makes up for it. I took almost 200 and three movies while I was there, almost all in that one day. Whew. I want to sleep now.

Ciao, Tutti!

I am soon to be on my way to an amazing weekend in Barcelona with my friend Kat from school who is currently studying in Madrid, so I figured I should write what I can now so I devote most of the next post to the trip. I am getting very excited and I will have another batch of great stories and colorful pictures when I return, and hopefully a tan, too, if the weather's nice enough to permit swimming.

I would like to say that this was a relaxing week for me, with the return of internet and not much activities outside of class, but it was actually a pretty rough week in terms of schoolwork and sleep. Monday is always a tough day for me, and it was even tougher this week because we had a double session of ensemble to make up for next Monday when we have to cancel. That meant I had class from 10:30 until 10:00 pm with a short break from 4:00-6:00, half of which is used to walk from class to ensemble, half of which is used to grab a quick dinner, and half is used to do whatever homework I may have.

The point is there's just not enough time, and Monday was therefore quite exhausting. But on the plus side, we met our new music theory teacher who seems to have an incredible reputation in his field, speaks fluent English, and has an unlimited grasp of the information, an unbelievable improvement on our previous professor who got fired. For once I can say, "Bravo, NYU." The other plus was that in jazz ensemble there was a guest who spoke up on behalf of playing the music more interestingly. As in, not just head, solos, head, out, and not playing all the solos the same for every tune. We finally started playing as a group and the pieces sounded more like pieces rather than a chance for each of the members to show off. It was a great improvement and the first time I really enjoyed myself in that band, even though we're playing Filling the Gap. The other members felt insulted by the way the guest was talking, which I could see maybe if I really concentrated, but I'm glad he said what was on my mind but couldn't quite phrase right, and we're starting to sound better. I hope things stay this way next time we meet. After the ensemble we exchanged contact information and he said he would send me an email if he wanted to have me play with him and his band up in Genoa sometime before I depart, which is very exciting because I'm quite interested in visiting Genoa, and playing there would be another amazing thing to do.

Monday is followed by Tuesday, during which I have class and a reserved practice time that keep me working from when I rise until 4:00 or so. Between Monday and Tuesday, I'm usually pretty exhausted, but there was no chance to break. I have a lot of work for composition lesson and I won't have any weekend to do it in. Plus I'm breaking through with Guest Artist and I don't want to loose too much momentum. Sigh... so much work!

Wednesday is a good day because I get to teach the kids English. I brought a small pot from home and had them all draw vegetables so we could all "make a soup" together. Afterward we took out everything they all drew and made the recipe so they could take it home and make it there if they wanted. I ended a little earlier than I had intended originally because they already seemed to know all the words I thought I was going to have to teach them. It turns out the teacher wanted me to do a food activity because that's what they were studying in their English class, not just regular class, so they already knew everything! Next week when we do sports and abilities, I'll be better prepared.

After teaching I only have one class, which makes it my shortest day. This gave me time to get some of the work done that I needed to get done, but I still have a lot to do after I'm done with the blog. But this Wednesday night I had a special ticket to see a concert in Teatro Verdi by the Toscana Orchestra, featuring violin soloist Uto Ughi. They played some works of Bach and of one of his son's, and the man's solo technique was simply incredible, possibly the best individual playing I have ever seen. I read the pamphlet about him (even though I was in Italian, I could understand most of it!) which said he was already performing when he was 7 years old and a full-fledged concert violinist when he was 12. The warm sound he got from the instrument was partly because the thing was a 1744 model that had been restored for him. Anyway, he conducted the orchestra as he played so clearly and sweetly and sometimes more impressively than I could imagine, and the Bach pieces fit his playing (and his ancient instrument) just about perfectly. He came out to play three encores, the crowd was so wowed by him, though the most impressive were his solo violin improvisations, one that was totally improvised, though you wouldn't know if he didn't say beforehand, and another that was another Bach piece. He could play things that were not only impossible to describe but impossible to play, and yet it was still musical and within the style, making up pieces with shape and form. I had to ask myself what do Jazz and other modern music have that set it apart from such virtuosity? What can we do that this violinist can't do?

If it wasn't so late, I was ready to go back to the apartment and practice for hours.

Today was fairly relaxed, which was nice. My Italian class met at a gelateria where we had a short scavenger hunt and then some NYU-funded gelato, which was actually quite good. Then a trip to L'Acedemia with my music history class to see the ancient musical instruments, then to campus to audition for the talent show fund raiser. All in all a pretty stress-free day, but it took up a lot of time and now I have no idea how I will have the energy or will-power to do all the work I have for music, let alone the usual heavy load of reading for my history class. Perhaps I will do most of the reading on the bus to the Pisa airport and the plane to Barcelona, and back, too, but I want to pack light. Oh, well, I'll figure it out later.

I apologize for the lack of pictures this week, but I'll be sure to make up for it with the Barcelona pictures. I've been giving my camera a break since it pulled a muscle with all the pictures I've been taking lately. It's almost fully recovered now, so no worries.

Music Announcements

Spread the word! Sam goldsmith and the Inspiration Sextet will present Guest Artist live at the Bowery Poetry Club-the sequel, on Thursday, September 25 from 6:00-7:30, in my best birthday concert ever. Make them have to sell standing room seats!

I am starting to procure gigs here in Italy. I will be playing with Il Trillo's Grupo Facile on April 8 in "una chiesa vecchia" (an old church). Il Trillo is the music school that lends NYU rooms for ensembles and practicing, and the owner invited me to play with one of their regular bands. They offer classes to all ages, so I bet this will be like me sitting in on a school band concert. It should be a lot of fun.

The NYU jazz ensemble I am in currently is scheduled to play at least twice in the week after spring break in March. I'm not sure of the dates because I don't think anyone is, but I think one day is at Pinocchio on March 21, though we're trying to change it to a week later, and the other is on March 26. Those are not exact dates! I don't want you to buy a ticket to come out and see me play in Florence just to find out I got the date wrong! I'll let you know when the dates are more accurate, and I'll include some cheap airfare quotes so you can make it out easily ;-)

Until next week,

-Sg