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Photo: Grumbler %-| / Gonçalo Valverde on Flickr, http://goo.gl/HM0ku |
Obviously, Bucharest is full of culture. Opera houses, the Athenaeum, countless museums and older buildings dotted amongst the modern and communist style. There is a reason this city is called the “Little Paris,” though some have inform me the title does not apply anymore. I don’t know, I have never been to Paris and don’t have a great desire to head that way anytime soon. I am of the opinion Paris is a place you go when you’re seriously in a relationship, bringing two lives together in an intertwined way and both desire to travel. Bucharest is not a city most people I know would want to come to, especially in the middle of winter, for the winter. But I like it.
I enjoy meandering through the city on a weekend, taking in the carefully hidden beauty of the 19th Century and stumbling into communist era blocks full of dreary gray. Most people don’t care for these structures. I can understand the constant reminder of what life was, but there is an odd beauty to the soviet/communist style of architecture. It was not for beauty but for speed. It provided homes to many people the only way a system of pure “equality” can! But it gives off a sense of power and determination that strikes me today. These blocks could shutter the soul into an abyss of blackness to anyone trying to stand-up-right in a system that sought dominance. They are a physical representation of repression and egotistical desire to impose will over a state. Sensing these feelings, there is something remarkable about this style of architecture; the system has collapsed, there is nothing to dominate over, and yet they linger as giants in the sky, still echoing their power. They do not have the allure and surprise beauty of the older buildings, which make a wanderer stop in amazement when stumbling upon them. They just are there, slowly decaying, providing home to people.
I spent two days seeing shows: a movie, an experimental opera and a symphony. The movie was Black Swan; a powerful rendition showing the depravity of a soul sinking further into madness. This movie captured my enjoyment between the musical score, I’m told all from Swan Lake, the underlying story and the disturbing interactions between a mother and a grown child. It hit all the strange points I enjoy from classic horror movies without being horror. I should also say the movie was seen in an independent theater, playing the same movie for a week. This was a new first experience and quite a fulfilling one. I cannot remember the last time I saw a movie so full weeks after it had been released. Bucharest has several small theaters and I hope all of them maintain this type of power. Seeing a movie surrounded by other is a completely different experience then seeing a movie in a theater that is half full or even empty. There you say, “Why did I bother paying the money,” but here there is a social interaction, a sense that this is how a movie needs to be viewed. Could I say it seems like a throwback to an earlier time when movies were a community event? Of course, but this last note is only understood for me through books and stories of ole.
The experimental opera was something completely different. First, I have never seen an opera before and dare say still haven’t. I would say the show was an experimental ballet and was very good and enjoyable. It was Alice in Tara Minciunilor, a student production. I’m not sure what was going on through most of the show, but the dancing and costumes, holding a twist of 19th Century upper class, did make it fun. The music brought my foot a tapping and my head a bobbing. Opera, no it was not. There was almost no speaking, which I am sure is a basic requirement of opera, though I could be wrong. It’s been known to happen before. But then again rule number two says “If I’m ever wrong, see rule number 1: I’m never wrong.” But it was a completely enjoyable way to spend an hour with friends and hear good music. The feelings are best described by the five year old who kept doing a jig during the show and when the opportunity arose was in the middle of the floor when the show ended. This kid’s over enthusiasm sums up how the viewers felt: good times, good music, and a need to move.
The symphony, the Athenaeum, Mozart, Chopin and De Falla, an energetic conductor and a pianist: the sights that drive a movement. First, the Athenaeum is intriguing; I have never seen a concert hall that sits above the main floor. Thankfully, pillars and arches are strong and withstand weight well. Second, the concert hall is intimate to what I usually see; I like it. The smallness brings everything together and gets rid of the idea of bad seats. Here every seat is a good seat to experience the show.
Now going to a symphony with me is accepting nap time may come. Napping is not a sign of disrespect or boredom, and can be done without snoring or disturbing others. It shows the complete relaxation that the music has achieved. My life is a constant go, mentally and physically. In the last decade I have worked positions that had me on my feet for almost 12 hours moving around, teaching and conversing with students, then only to spend another 5 to 6 hours of grading and going for a nightly walk. To fully relax is a pleasantness that does not often happen, but a good symphony does it. Further, resting the eyes brings in a visual effect that I would not grasp without. The colors the Marriage of Figaro can produce are wonderful and the images a piano solo can muster a delightful added bonus to the whole experience. It appears also that Bucharest has produced in me a movement that I had forgot about. Years of listening to music as a child and perhaps being a little hyper-active led me to imagine being a conductor. I was sitting at home last night listening to classic rock and I found my arms swinging to the music with my hands directing an imaginary band. Some people may be a little ashamed to say that, but anything that returns me, even momentarily, to the days of my childhood, is something worth seeing more. Thank you Bucharest for having the Athenaeum and fantastic symphonies; childhood here I come!
