Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, Dudamel Conducts Mahler

We had a big week for entertainment. Wednesday, we saw Harry Potter and the Cursed Child at the Pantages. It was raining out so I wore sneakers instead of dress shoes. Getting too old to slip and fall on Hollywood Blvd. I also wore my Irish walking cape. It has a hood to protect my head. I thought about wearing my opera cape but I didn’t want to get it wet. My walking cape fit in with the crowd just fine. Lots of Potter fans came in costume. I saw lots of ‘robes’ and house scarves. Before the show, one of the ushers led a cheer for the various houses. It was like a sports game: “Who’s Hufflepuff?” Lots of cheers. “Who’s Gryffindor?” Same. I’ve never felt comfortable picking a side. I suspect I’d probably be most comfortable in Slytherin but that’s icky. I’ll stay unhoused.

If you’re a Potter fan, you’ll go nuts over this show. I had to explain much of the Potter canon to Gordon which I don’t think he really appreciated. He stayed awake anyway so all was well. This isn’t a musical but there’s background music that the actors dance to to change sets and scenes. The choreography was lovely but what I really appreciated was the special effects. Amazing. The actors were all very good. The show is 2 hours and 40 minutes long so we got our money’s worth. I won’t tell you who the Cursed Child is because there are arguments for three candidates. Anyway, it was a nice way to spend a cold rainy evening.

We went to Disney Hall last night for Dudamel’s final concert this season. The Phil performed Alma Mahler’s Five Songs sung by Sasha Cooke. Cooke is a wonderful mezzo and she ‘sold’ the songs. I also liked her dress. It was a simple tank dress made out of some metallic material. Tasteful and becoming. I commented to Gordon that I really liked the dress and the woman in the seat in front of us turned around and said, “Thank you.” The Boat is where they seat visiting composers and family so maybe she was related to Cooke. I was glad I said something nice. Would have been embarrassing otherwise.

We went to the Founder’s Circle during intermission for a Donor’s reception. I thought I’d have to scrape the old ladies off the munchie table. We got there early enough to grab a glass of sparkling wine and a cookie. It isn’t that hard to beat the ‘walker’ crowd. And I shouldn’t be so snarky about the old ladies because they’re probably younger than I am. At least I have sense enough to get my goodies and get out of the way. The same can’t be said for the other old girls.

Dudamel conducted Mahler’s Fifth after intermission. It’s 65 minutes long. I’ve never really appreciated Mahler. Dudamel seemed to understand Mahler and conducted without a score but I just heard lots of themes without cohesion. Mahler is big and blarey and will keep you awake but it’s still unfocused. That’s me. Other people appreciate the music.

After the show we went to the parking garage to go home and were verbally assaulted by a screaming Lefty. My husband drives a Tesla and apparently it’s the new thing for Lefties to scream abuse at Tesla owners. I guess we’re standing in for Elon. She looked so ridiculous in her rage that I started laughing. And Gordon’s been married to me for so long he’s inured to craziness. I didn’t think much about it until we got home. Then I decided I should have reacted to the assault. But how to do it? They’re really not worth much effort but they should be taught better. I’ve decided my reaction will be a ‘bird’ and a smile. It gets the point across and doesn’t take much energy. If they choose to escalate, well, I’ll handle that too. I haven’t been in a fist fight for years but hopefully it’s like riding a bike. I won’t start anything but I’ll do my best to finish it. And if I lose, I can have them arrested for assault. If I lose a tooth, no big deal. I need new crowns anyway. And they can pay for them. Win/win for me.

It’s a beautiful day so I think I’ll take a walk before the next storm comes. I need to take advantage of the weather while I’m still here.

A Cool Night at the Hollywood Bowl

We were invited to the Hollywood Bowl by one of Gordon’s business buddies. She has a box and said food would be provided but suggested that if I wanted to bring a pie for dessert (hint, hint) it would be welcome. So, I made a lemon meringue pie. It’s easy to carry and you don’t to pack ice cream. I like to keep the schlepping to a minimum. It was a perfect for the Bowl. We’d just gotten over a heat wave and the weather was pleasantly cool. June, Gordon’s friend, has a deal set up where she valet parks and someone hauls our crap to the box. They set us up with wine and food and cleaned up afterwards. I’ve never been waited on like that at the Bowl. I could learn to live that way—if I could afford it. The food was so-so but the pie was a big hit. People in the surrounding boxes stared enviously. There’s something to be said for not growing up with much money. You learn how to do stuff. And if I do say so myself, my pie crust is almost as good as my Danish grandmother’s. We divided up the pie for people to take home for breakfast. Then the staff cleaned up after us, got rid of the tables, and turned our chairs for the concert.

It was a lovely program. Dudamel conducted Bernstein’s Chichester Psalms which was nice but the real treat was after intermission when the LA Phil performed Beethoven’s Ninth. It was quite a production. The soloists were wonderful and the LA Master Chorale was spectacular—but then, they always are. I noticed that the strings were miked but that didn’t distort the sound. I grinned through the whole thing and the audience stood and roared. Who knew that the LA Phil were rock stars?

We collected our stuff and June led us to her car which had been parked near the exit. Then the staff escorted us out the parking lot before anyone else. I have never felt so privileged. June says it’s her treat to herself. Better to give the money to the Hollywood Bowl than the guvmint. I agree. I’d pay anything to avoid that parking lot mess. Anyway, it was a special night at the Bowl. We’re going to miss Dudamel but I think it’s time for a change. I hope we get the next wunderkind. The LA Phil seems to specialize in finding them. And New York needs Dudamet. They’re struggling.

And if June wants to invite us again, I’m always up for it. And I’ll make the pie.