October 25-26, 1999 – Hemingway and the Birmingham Symphony

I am watching a wonderfully funny and interesting BBC documentary—Michael Palin’s Hemingway Adventure. A former Monty Pythoner, Michael traces the life of Hemingway, attempting to experience everything Hemingway did in his manly, exhilarating life. The series is extremely well done.

In the episode I watched last night, Michael goes to Michigan’s Upper Peninsula and hires a guide to retrace Hemingway’s hunting experiences. He has a list of supplies Hemingway purchased at a local grocery in 1908 and goes to the same store to attempt to buy the same things that Hemingway did 100 years ago. As they work their way down the list, the poor clerk keeps saying, “No, we don’t have that,” until Michael comes to worms. “Oh, yes,” she says excitedly, “We have nightcrawlers.” “Nightcrawlers? What are those?” Michael asks in his proper British accent. “They’re big, fat worms,” she replies nonchalantly. When he asks for canned meat, the woman says, “We have spam.” It’s too good of an opening and Michael sings the Monty Python spam song.

Michael goes on to drive an ambulance in Milan, which Hemingway did during WWII; to run with the bulls in Pamplona, Spain, the subject of Hemingway’s novel, The Sun Also Rises; to visit the cafés in Paris where Hemingway wrote in the 1920s; and then marlin fishing in Havana. I love this show.

It is a full table at breakfast on Monday morning—all the rooms were full last night. One of the new B&B guests, Hannah, a young woman from Germany, is studying English linguistics. Later, Caroline tells me that Hannah stiffed them. After booking for a week, she left after one night to stay with new friends.

I begin making my plans for Scotland in November. The fellows will gather in Edinburgh for a reporting seminar. Because we are the first ones to go home, Jonathan and I will present our project findings to the rest of the fellows then. I map out a trip to Inverness for when I am there.

Tuesday evening I attend the symphony with Jane and Richard. After work, Jane and I have a glass of wine at her house before grabbing a taxi to the convention hall where we meet Richard just a few minutes before the concert begins. Richard works for a local television station and has press seats, which he gives to Jane and me. We have great seats while he is relegated to the balcony.

The Birmingham Symphony Orchestra is one of the finest orchestras in the world, according to their brochure. The new, modern auditorium is renowned too; other symphonies come here to record because the acoustics are so good.

Tonight’s conductor, Estonian-born, Paavo Jarvi, is “one of the most sought after conductors of his generation.” In addition, our concert premieres a new work by a young composer also from Estonia; it is the first time the piece has ever been performed. The program is:

Paavo Järvi – conductor

Erkki-sven Tüür: New Work: Exoodus

Mahler: Symphony No. 6 A Minor

I find the first piece a bit bizarre; very modern. It lasts only about 15 minutes. Then, there is an intermission. Then the Mahler piece goes on for an hour and a half. I wish I knew more about classical music so I could appreciate the performance more. It is enjoyable, but somewhat above me.

After the concert, we walk over to La Rouge Café in Brindley Place for supper. Richard talks about his time in Lewiston and at Bates College. He tells me he worked at West Breeze Orchards in Auburn in the fall to earn extra money!

I have a funny email from Brian. He said he and Aunt Kay were amazed by all my stories about England and they decided they were going to make their boring lives more exciting by making things up. He goes on to say that he met Joan Collins at a cocktail party last week, but she was drunk and made a ruckus, so he sneaked out the back door before the police came and arrested everyone. It makes laugh out loud. How does he think of this stuff?