Krakow

But first, the Philharmonic. I attended the Lithuanian National Philharmonic last night, and had a wonderful evening. Only one of the three pieces was by a Lithuanian composer, rather than all. Edwin Geist, a Jew, had fled nazi Germany when he was forbiddent to compose. He died three years later in 1942, murdered. His piece was reminiscent of Shostokovich: here memories of national folk tunes, there seeming mockery of the government, disturbing yet interesting--surely reflecting what was happening in his world.

A solo pianist, Petras Geniusas played a Schumann piano concerto with the orchestra. The lady sitting next to me was the pianists neighbor--she had known him some forty years, and was daily treated to his music wafting through the neighborhood. At the intermission, those not lined up for drinks were promenading with their spouse or partner around the upstairs lobby balustrade--a wonderful tradition!

Following the intermission, the orchestra present Saint-Saens Symphony no. 3, "Organ", one of my favorites. They played it very well, if occasionally with a martial sense of rythm. The director, Juozas Domarkas, had a sensitive hand and knew his orchestra and the music. His appearance was that of P.D.Q. Bach, albeit with heavy eyeglasses.

The hall was smaller than I had expected, and had been renovated several years ago. Last night was the opening night of the season and was nearly sold out. They were also inaugurating a new Steinway grand piano for the hall. The people of Vilnius and Lithuania have much to be proud of in their national orchestra.

The cab picked me up at the edge of the construction zone at 6:45 this morning. Looking at the odometer, I saw that his newish model Mercedes had 645,000 kilometers on it--I calculate it right at 400,000 miles, if what I saw was correct. The morning was hazy, and we flew out in heavy fog. Warsaw was clearer, but there was again haze landing in Krakow.

I had a pleasant and not so pleasant experience on the way to the hotel. Taxis had doubled their fees for Sunday, so I took the bus in at an easy $1.85. On the way, passing homes adjacent to the airport with chickens and roosters loose in the yards, a number of people got on the bus clearly on their way home from Mass. When an elderly lady got on (I was standing with my luggage the entire way), a young man instantly got up and gave her his seat. I was deeply impressed.

What wasn't impressive was receiving misinformation from the information kiosk regarding using my bus ticket for a transfer onto the tram. A $20 fine later for not having a proper tram ticket, I was not feeling so welcome in Krakow. I could say a lot more, but I won't. Still steaming at 2:30 in the afternoon, I did what any rational person would do: sat down for coffee and ice cream.

Every city's cathedrals seem to outdo the last, and Krakow is no exception. St Mary's Basilica was beyond words: deep blue ceiling broken by golden stars, gigantic crucifix in place beneath the joining of two vaults, everything covered in artwork and gold. Next door, a much smaller church was lined inside with scaffolding, the ceiling obscured by a rough wood floor suspended above. A harpsicord was rehearsing with a flute and violin: disjointed and disarray at first, but ending with sublime music. I saw a second church lined with scaffolding as well. Ten years plus out, there is still much work to do.

The interior of St Francis was at once a smaller replica of St Mary's, but was done in an art nouveau that through dark was refreshing. The stained glass windows are in the same stye, and are world famous. Most interesting was a side chapel that contained a Shroud of Turin. Note that I saw "a" Shroud of Turin--a search of the internet indicates the famous shroud is safely tucked away in Turin (home to Fiat) and won't be seen again publicly until 2025. I did find reports of a second shroud turning up in Czechoslovakia several years ago, a perfect copy of the original. Perhaps this is the same one, but I have been unable to find any solid information on it.

This city has it's share of accordian players. Maybe it's just because it's Sunday, but they were on many street corners. Many played the classical piece that Barry Manilow used a snippet of to open "Could this be the Magic at Last". (Anyone correctly naming the classical piece gets a free cd of "Stefan plays Manilow") Most impressive was the gentleman playing Bach's Toccata and Fugue in D minor, a big pipe organ piece, with convincing accuracy--did Bach really compose it for the accordian?

Arranged my train ticket to Nysa for tomorrow, where I'll see Ewa Michalek Drobic and her family. Plans are for me to speak to her english class on Tuesday--that should be a lot of fun!

Readers may have noticed that up to now, I've taken busses through eastern Europe rather than trains. It has not really been by choice: most destinations are better served now by busses than trains. I'm guessing that the trains remain government-owned and have lacked for an infusion of funds, meaning aged Soviet era equipment. The busses are owned and operated by private companies, are modern, timely and comfortable, and are turning a profit here. We'll see how the train ride goes tomorrow.

Had a knock on the door as I began writing: a maid bringing house slippers, more bathroom goodies, and a chocolate that melted in my mouth. This five-star stuff is good.

I didn't think I could recommend Krakow earlier today, but I must. It dodged the bombs of WWII, though suffered the same indignities of communist rule. The old town is a treasure, as are the old towns of Tallinn, Riga, and Vilnius. All are worth seeing, and their stories are ones that we need to hear. Auschwitz is near here. A park in Vilnius was renamed "the killing fields" after a KGB mass grave was found there several years ago. Abandoned watch towers loomed over the railroad tracks out of Riga. Perhaps I experienced a vestige of the Soviet era today. Krakow is magnificant, and we are fortunate it is here for us to enjoy and explore.

JP