Usually, when I begin writing these monthly essays, I have a pretty good idea as to how they will be structured. The beginning and end are clear, and all that I need to do is fill up the space in between. But March was different, in so many ways. If there was one thought that permeated the time, it had to be the continuing devastation in Ukraine.

Tales of grief and woe, as well as ominous portents, made themselves known through stories on television, in print, and via internet. Amid efforts to censor and exaggerate, a portrait of our mad world became clear. I spent this month working and taking a bit of time off in Europe. Getting perspective away from home is always useful and, for a change, much of the world seemed in agreement regarding the crisis. Where it all fell apart was coming to solutions.

Musicians are wondering what they can do in the wake of the brutal invasion of Ukraine. And the answer is, not much. With my father’s side of the family being from that region of the world, this provocation hits close to home. My friends, Russian and Ukrainian alike, are distraught and united in their support of those being attacked.

I guess no one can really understand how a conflict such as this can occur in the 21^st century. Images of 1939 are flashing before our eyes as a tyrant once again attempts to dominate the world scene. And woe to those who dare to oppose him. Will we stand idly by as this blatant breach of world norms continues? Is there anything other than wishful thinking that can take place?

Another month, another period of no conducting. There was a time when I would have been quite happy to write those words, but as the pandemic drags on, a degree of frustration is kicking in.

I only had one date scheduled for January. I was supposed to work with the students at Carnegie Mellon in Pittsburgh. This engagement had already been postponed once, and when the school decided they were not ready to get back to in-person learning, the second strike was thrown.

Happy New Year!

Just when we thought nothing was worse than 2020, good old Father Time reminded us that he still had some tricks up his sleeve.

December ended quietly for Cindy and me. The only conducting I did was a set of holiday concerts in Lyon and Aix-en-Provence. Originally, we had planned to do the rarely performed Christmas Oratorio by Saint-Saëns, but the ONL was still in concerts-without-intermission mode, so that idea went away.