The Standing Room

Professional Wrestling with a Full Orchestra

Stephen Colbert interviews Nathan Gunn ("Do you perform with clothes on?")

5/8 UPDATE: Guess who was on TV again tonight.

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One of the Slowest Trains, Slowest Trains

Check it out! Recently spotted on a City College ad posted in a MUNI train (Judah to ocean, as it were):

How small a thought it takes to fill a whole post. We're living in the third dynasty of Ur. The, ah, chief god is, ah, Nana. It was enormous and it was like silver (eeeeenoooormouuuuuus). Hashamayim m'saprim k'vod El! It's been a honeymoon honey honey honey huh honey honey uh oh, the Reich Tourette's is kicking in again can't take no mo'...

Another photo courtesy of our roving correspondent Mlle J—

Wie lieblich sind Berts Wohnungen

I want to thank everyone who has shared a thought with us on Bert's death. I don't know how to say it any better than just that it has meant a lot, getting all the emails and messages and calls and comments, and we appreciate it truly. I wish you all had had a chance to meet him; he certainly would have wanted to meet you. He was a social guy, always friendly and amiable, inquisitive and adaptable, internationally renowned for his courtesy and particularly fine coat.

Last Labor Day weekend, as I entertained myself decontextualizing Anna Netrebko quotes in front of the computer, Bert found his amusement outdoors in the garden, where he was having his last big weekend romp. We had herded the cats into the car for a ride up to our friend Mr. T—'s Healdsburg bungalow, where Bert could have a fun-in-the-sun vacation.

So it felt fitting when Mr. T— offered to let us bury Bert in the garden, and agreed to play the role of gravedigger. We placed Bert in the ground with his little green honeysuckle cushion, which has indisputably been his favorite possession since F&J gave it to him as a present nearly a decade ago. (I recall us laughing that day at the ridiculous cartoon cat on the packaging, which was pictured hugging the cushion. Then we looked down and saw Bert lying on his side, trying to hug the damn thing to his chest.) We replaced the dirt with our hands. He's under an orange tree now.

I heard/sang a bunch of music last week—both New York Voices sets at Yoshi's, a vocal jazz class, a Holy Thursday service, Dudamel leading the SF Symphony in the complete Firebird, Flicka and Jackie in a Pauline Viardot tribute—good extramural excursions, all. But home is a little quieter now, and it is interesting to find ourselves so keenly aware of absence instead of presence.

Denn alles Fleisch, es ist wie Gras

Bert (1988-2008)

I dreamt last night that we had a harpsichord, and that Bert peed on it.

Perhaps he was more of a contemporary music guy at heart.

It was clear from the time we got up this morning that something was not right. People have been telling us, you'll know when it's time. Today he let us know.

I went to see the 10:30am broadcast of Peter Grimes (highly recommended, repeat showing on Sunday), had lunch, and returned home around 4pm. As Kevin was preparing to head out for a show around 7pm, Bert made it known that the time had come. I think he wanted us both to be here.

He died at home around 8pm. It is odd to hold a creature as he breathes his last breath.  He was a most gentle and genteel being, and we cared for him very much. I hope we have done right by him.

I've posted the photo below before, but it feels appropriate to repost tonight.

Strange how fine the line between laughing and crying can be.

[Post deleted]

Wrap-Up

that's my head, directly above the white cap on the bicyclist

During the course of last night's performance, I honestly had no idea how many people were in the audience; there could have been, like, 5 people total, for all I knew. The house lights were all the way down and the stage lighting prevented me from seeing anything beyond the first couple of rows. I do remember thinking at one point, gee, it's strange that these people are sitting so close to the stage; people don't normally sit there unless they have to. And some part of my brain registered the fact that there were bodies in the loge-like seats on the side, but I chose not to give it much mind. So I hope my face didn't register the shock too obviously when the house lights came up for the composer acknowledgment after the second bow, because my first thought was actually, WHOA, who are all these people?!?!? I'm told that there were even a dozen+ standing-room folks in the back of the house.

My sincere thanks to everyone who turned up, and for being such a responsive and enthusiastic audience.  And thanks also to everyone who took the time to say hello afterwards and express the things that the program made them think about and feel. It means a lot to me that so many of the things people said went far beyond and far deeper than the usual "you have a lovely voice" or "well, that must have been hard!" type of comments. It was a very satisfying evening from the stage, and I hope it was equally so out in the seats.

Some reactions are up on Anne-Carolyn Bird's and Darcy James Argue's blogs, if you're curious.