Text 14019, 107 rader
Skriven 2007-04-14 13:52:00 av MICHAEL LOO (1:123/140)
Ärende: 361 more trip
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A small but enthusiastic audience, the creme de la mushroom
of Arkansas society, half-filled the 1200-seat hall.

Esther Park started off with a rip-roaring Tchaikovsky
concerto that was energetic, propulsive, rather savage, and
got a sizable standing O.

At the first intermission Lio, the Macau-Chinese kid who at
18 is a Curtis student, was pacing in the green room (there
was a dance performance in the little theater next door, so
the dressing rooms were much less generously allotted than
usual) shaking his head violently like an autistic child and
muttering to himself ominously. He's a fine musician with 
huge promise, but I wonder about that intensity and where it
is eventually going to lead him.

His performance, committed, and musically and technically
outstanding, was nonetheless not a heaven-made match between
soloist and orchestra and Beethoven. We didn't help things by
coming in a bar early, en masse, in a crucial spot of the
third movement. Our conductor's face showed this horrified
look of, now this kid will lose thousands of bucks, and it's
all our fault. But in fact he never wavered, we got together
in a couple bars, and the audience probably never knew. He
got a medium-size standing O.

The concert ended with Tak playing the Rachmaninov, a fine
job that got by far the largest ovation of the evening.

We stuck around for the announcement of the winners but
first had to endure the acknowledgment and award of plaques
to maybe twenty people, from the mayor of Fayetteville to
the sponsors to the board to the dean of the music school.
Finally the prizes were announced: Lio, Tak, Park in that
order. Tak's Rachmaninov won the audience prize, naturally.

After which we headed out, myself heavily burdened with
luggage, musical instruments, and so on. As I was waiting
outside, the assistant concertmaster ran up to me: "I
believe that's my violin," he said. Turns out his violin
case is the same as the one I was using, and there had been
quite a hubbub until my stand partner realized that Ryan and
I had the same kind of violin case. I'd been tired and in a
hurry and had grabbed the wrong violin! Luckily Ramiro had
been awake enough to figure out what had happened. I was
thoroughly chastened and wondered for a moment whether I had
had a relapse.

=

Kenneth's birthday at Pinnacle Hills Country Club.

Kristen and Barry, being young professionals of the standard
sort, are members of this fairly tony club, which is reputed
to have the best Sunday brunch around; as it was Kenneth's
birthday, we went there to celebrate and stuff our faces,
perhaps in that order. Fay, Kenneth's friend, showed up a
bit late.

Both food and service were quite good, not just by hillbilly
standards.

I had mostly protein, which is my usual survival tactic at
buffets. The prime rib was medium on one side and well on
the other. I decided I'd go for the side with the crunchies
so for the first time in my life asked for well-done roast
beef. It had been slow-roasted and was very tender and
pretty tasty. The best part was the crust on the outside.
A fried chicken thigh, underseasoned but fresh and juicy,
and a piece of white fish (really excellent) from a "seafood
medley" of sea bass, tuna, and salmon in cream sauce joined
this on my plate. Oh, yeah, a very thin lightly smoked pork
chop smothered in too sweet but nicely seasoned sauce.

Green beans were a sorry, soggy mess that would put anyone,
even a good ol' su'n boy, off his or her veggies for life.

Tried neither the rice pilaf stuff or the mashed taters.

I chose a Spellbound Petite Syrah 03, the second cheapest
red wine on the list; deep purple and with good body and
legs, it turned out chocolaty, plummy, with a little fennel
and green pepper, slightly off dry, nice and rich on the
palate, with cherries and coffee on the finish. I'd have
guessed it as a regular Syrah.

For my second plate, I had smoked salmon, warm and sticky
but of good quality, and three good, firm steamed shrimp.

The roast had been replaced by a medium-rare one, but I was
getting full and passed, as desserts were said to be of the
don't miss variety. I got a flourless chocolate thing that
was the usual, only with a touch of cinnamon, sided by a
small scoop of Breyer's vanilla. I should have had a second
slice of beef instead. Or perhaps a Belgian waffle made to
order, each one embossed with a Razorback in the middle.

Played an interesting game (big old chess set out in the
anteroom) with Sam, the rules being that he could move
however he wanted whenever he wanted, and I was bound by
the more conventional but less satisfying rules. He won
in 3 moves, taking my King down from what I thought was
an impregnable position, with his Horse.

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