The Politics of Air

It is Gala time in Syria, beginning with the student piano and vocal recital tomorrow night.  The program looks to be strong, with works ranging from early Beethoven to Rachmaninoff.  Some of the pianism here is remarkable.

Ayham Hammour plays his Scarlatti brilliantly.

Most of the students are Russian trained, though they lament the one-dimensional aspect of their training.  As a result, almost all of them would love a chance to study in the States, with the additional motivation that options here are limited for even for the best pianists.  This is the case for most students graduating from high school in Syria, regardless of discipline…too few positions available for higher education.  This leaves a tremendous number of bright students with nowhere to turn.  Perhaps this explains why these young talents are so dedicated to returning to Syria to insure she thrives, regardless of where they ultimately study.

While the piano and vocal areas of American Voices are running relatively smoothly, other areas, such as the Broadway and dance groups, are hitting unexpected snags.  This is not to say that the pianists have not had some disappointments.  Initially, the Gala concert scheduled for the night after next (on which I will be performing) looked to be a delight, with the gorgeous 9 foot Yamaha grand to be moved from the conservatory to the 2500 seat outdoor amphitheater.  Two days ago, word came down that the risk associated with moving the piano was too great for the (only) concert grand in Syria, so one of the dozen 7 foot Hamburg Steinway B’s were to be moved instead.  Yesterday morning, the piano shrunk again into a 6 foot Yamaha baby grand.  Today, we learn that an upright piano will be in place for the concert.  Let us hope for a robust sound system, and the inspiration of a large crowd.

This could pretty much summarize the American Voices experience…its strength:  its ability to adapt to unfortunate or unexpected circumstances to successfully enrich the lives of the students, the community, and the faculty.

I can usually count on finding John in this pose several times per day.

A good metaphor for the kinds of problems we have typically encountered this summer lies in the “Great Air Conditioner Fiasco” of two days ago.  Air conditioning is a must in this part of the world.  This goes double for the students and faculty of the Broadway and Dance segments of the American Voices program, non of whom share the luxury of us pianists who can simply sit to practice our trade.  So, when the air conditioner in the only dance rehearsal room went missing (actually only one part of the unit went missing), it became questionable whether or not the old adage “the show must go on” would keep its sacred status.  The situation seemed fixable enough when the Minister of Culture himself made a call and laid down the law to the people responsible for the “repair”.  Yet, after the promise that the unit would be returned within the hour, two days passed with no relief for the dancers.  An almost total (and understandable) meltdown by dance faculty member Michael Parks at the morning faculty meeting didn’t do much to remedy the situation either.  Nor did the suggestion that we acquire fans, as it is popular myth here that fans cause stomach problems.  Speculation went so far as to suggest that the dean of the whole fine arts complex was upset that American voices would not double the salary of the conservatory staff, even after they had already been paid the amount agreed to months ago, and thus he sabotaged the air conditioner unit.  And, as unlikely as this scenario may be to this specific situation, such a circumstance is common in this part of the world, and it is exactly the kind of “moving target” this organization deals with a hundred times per day.

Members of the Children’s Music Theater thank John for acquiring an air conditioner for their work space.

Thankfully, the evenings bring a break from the heat, with cool air that makes going out on the town after a long day of teaching a true joy.  Shopping in old Damascus is a must for any first time visitor.  Besides the incredible history of the old city, vendors sell wares that are as unique as they are insanely cheap.  And, for those opposed to walking, a cab ride to virtually any place in the city costs a dollar.  I have walked the market from one end of the great mosque to the far side of the Christian quarter several times.  Each jaunt is its own adventure in bartering, people watching, and sightseeing.

One of the remaining Roman gateways to old Damascus.

A typical market scene in old Damascus.

A man smokes Hookah (water pipe) at one of the many cafes in the old Damascus market.

This church steeple stands at one end of the great mosque in old Damascus.  The site was once a temple to the Roman God Jupiter.  It then became a Christian church before the mosque was built.  The view is through one of the remaining Roman gateways to the city.

The cat was annoyed at my offer for the silver broach.  The shop owner was pleased enough that we enjoyed tea and a long conversation in his shop.

Today I was “kidnapped” by my students, who took me to lunch away from the tourist fray to a more typical residential district.  For the evening, they took me to the “Art House”, a super high-class (and extraordinarily unique) art gallery, café, and concert space.  A conversation with the site manager and a snack with CEO of the Syria Trust for Development brought up the likelihood of a concert here next year, along with a possible tour of several of the cities of Syria.

A view from the rooftop cafe above the “Art House” concert space.  The site hosts a robust concert series each year.

Another view from atop the “Art House”.  The settlements on the mountain side are illegal.  With time, the people living there hope to legitimize their claim to the home and property.  The locals claim that the giant flag holds a Guinness Book  record for size and/or height.

Night view of Damascus from the mountain top.  Citizens gather here each evening to relax and take in the spectacular view.  This photo captures only a fraction of the sprawling cityscape.

Advertisements