Passeggiando nella bellissima libreria “Tsutaya Books” nella nuova Ginza Six a Tokyo, e naturalmente non resistendo alla tentazione di comprare alcuni libri legati al Giappone (vedi la prossima fotografia)

mi cade l’occhio su questo libro.

Sono alcune ricette dalla cucina dell’Hotel Splendido di Portofino (che non si può definire un Hotel alla portata di tutti). Da Genovese sento un poco di orgoglio per un libro sulla Liguria nel centro della Ginza di Tokyo, anche se parla quasi solo di cucina. Le ricette non sono male, ma a chi volesse un buon libro sulla cucina genovese, consiglierei senz’altro questo:

Walking through the beautiful bookstore “Tsutaya Books” in the new Ginza Six in Tokyo, and, of course, not resisting the temptation to buy some books related to Japan (see the second photo), my eye fell on this book (third photo). They are some recipes from the kitchen of the Hotel Splendido in Portofino (which cannot be defined as a Hotel within everyone’s reach). As a Genoese, I feel a little proud of a book about Liguria in the center of Tokyo’s Ginza, even if it mainly talks about cooking. The recipes are not bad, but for those who want a good book on Genoese cuisine, I would recommend this one (last photo).

Trovo per caso su YouTube una meravigliosa registrazione del mio solo ed unico Maestro, Milan Horvat, che dirige nel 2006 con l’Orchestra Filarmonica di Zagreb l’ottava sinfonia di Anton Bruckner (che io dirigerò la settimana prossima a Tokyo con l’Orchestra della NHK). Mi commuovo molto, e mi rendo conto di quanto fosse grande il Maestro soprattutto in questo repertorio: equilibrio, forma, precisione,  e soprattutto modestia: mai mettere se stessi in primo piano e sempre al servizio del compositore e della sua opera. La registrazione è del 2006, quando il Maestro aveva 87 anni; lui dirige da seduto, ma a memoria. Incredibile. Ricordo ancora tutto quello che lui ci diceva nelle sue lezioni.

I accidentally found on YouTube a superb recording of my one and only Maestro, Milan Horvat, conducting Anton Bruckner’s Eighth Symphony in 2006 with the Zagreb Philharmonic Orchestra (I will perform the same symphony next week in Tokyo with the NHK Orchestra). I was very moved, and I realized how great the Maestro was, especially in this repertoire: balance, form, precision, and above all, modesty: never putting oneself in the foreground and always at the service of the composer and his work. The recording is from 2006, when the Maestro was 87 years old; he conducts sitting down but from memory. Incredible. I still remember everything he told us in his lessons.

My youngest son often complains about not having enough friends. He belongs to Generation Z (born in 1997), for which it seems to be a common problem. I understand the seriousness of this, and I try to help him by telling him that the quantity of friends is not paramount, but the quality is. Secondly, I share my personal experience: I only have maybe 4 or 5 friends, all of them for at least 30 years: friends undergo a hard selection in life. And finally, I sent him an interesting article from the Washington Post: Making new friends can be hard

It’s a difficult issue, I see, and it’s very difficult for me to help, but this problem has been around for ages, and it needs life experience, patience, and also a lot of energy and strength, especially when we know, from a longer experience, that real friends cannot be many.

My only conducting teacher, Milan Horvat, very often spoke highly about the pianist Gina Bachauer (1913-1976), with whom he often made music. He praised her as a no-frills pianist with outstanding technique and energy. I heard some Rachmaninoff (I think it was the second piano concerto) – of whom she was one of the last students – some time ago, and yesterday, this Beethoven Concerto. What a pleasure! She doesn’t add anything that is not in the score (which means she reads behind the written notes). The simplicity of her approach makes the rendition of this score just perfect, without any mannerism (to which most of the young pianists today strongly tend), correct tempos, and perfect dynamic. Just refreshing. I wish many of the very hyped soloists of our time had the same sincere, humble, and genuine approach to such masterworks as she had.

Yes, unfortunately, this word is a “vox media,” which means that it doesn’t have a positive or negative connotation, per se. Nevertheless, especially when speaking about art, we should reflect on the real meaning of this—5a is my point.

Smelling all those damaged Guerlains really got me down. I can think of no art other than perfumery that has suffered such grievous damage and neglect. We play music from scores written a thousand years ago. We have sound recordings going back to Brahms. We read books written in the Middle Ages. Paintings going back hundreds of years, frescoes going back thousands of years are lovingly preserved and restored. And yet the pleasure of smelling a 1969 Guerlain as it was meant to be is denied us. 20th Century perfumery, i.e. its entire Golden Age, has been wiped out and will never come back.

Why? Because the industry never believed in its own product. Because we let a handful of enterprising dermatologists and analytical chemists dictate our lives. Because when something like perfume is perceived to have no measurable benefit, yet has some costs (a few allergies) the cost-benefit ratio is always wrong. Because the people running the industry are shallow, misogynist, and greedy. “Mais non Madame, the perfume has not changed, maybe it is you”. Because nobody had the courage to put a label on their fragrance that says “do not spray on skin.” Because the fragheads came too few and too late to save perfumery.

(Luca Turin)

It is high time to think about this term and not be dazzled—and deceived—by cheap opinions, mere visibility, or, even worse, political correctness.

Taylor Swift. Ero particolarmente curioso di ascoltare qualcosa di questa cantante, di cui tutti parlano e che ha un seguito che tutti noi artisti classici messi insieme possiamo solo invidiare (va bene, non è questo il punto, lo so). Inizio dall’Album “Taylor Swift” del 2006 e finisco con l’ultimo “The tortured Poets Department” (c’è un interessante articolo sul NYT su una possibile apostrofo mancante). Si inzia quindi da un puro Folk e si termina (al momento) con un linguaggio musicale maturo, la voce che si è abbassata di una terza, ma soprattutto testi sofisticati, sentiti e vissuti. Mi sono sentito un ex-teenager. Taylor Swift mi piace.

Taylor Swift. I was curious to hear something from this singer. Everybody is talking about her, and she has a terrific number of followers, a thing we classical artists could only dream of (I know, this is not the point). I started with the album “Taylor Swift” from 2006 and stopped with the last one, “The Tortured Poets Department” (there is an interesting article in the NYT about the supposed necessity of an apostrophe). We begin with pure folk music and end (so far, at least) with a mature musical language, the voice down one third, but, above all, sophisticated lyrics, authentic and even, at times, profound. I felt like an ex-teenager. I like Taylor Swift.

After one year, I am again in Vienna, with resurging memories of beautiful and less beautiful times. It is a city full of life and, simultaneously, afraid of its morbidity. Yesterday evening, walking back to the hotel, thoughts of decay and death overcame me. This is no longer justifiable “grandeur”—so out of place now. And yet, it is a testament to times that gave us the most astonishing art and music.