Before all the holidays converged at the same time, the first half of December was relatively quiet for Cindy and me, except for one conducting assignment that turned out to be very interesting.

For the past several years, I have been doing some teaching at the Manhattan School of Music. The conservatory is housed in the same building where my mother, uncle, brother, and I all studied while attending Juilliard. Every time I enter the door at 122^nd Street and Claremont Avenue, I am reminded of the rich tradition of music that has emerged from those storied halls.

Although the auditorium underwent a renovation several years ago, the dressing rooms remain mostly unchanged. I can still smell the Gauloise that dangled from the lips of my teacher, Jean Morel. My first real conducting performances took place in that venue, now known as Neidorff-Karpati Hall.

It was just a four-day visit, so we had to accomplish a lot in a short time. With the previous week having been Thanksgiving, the orchestra had not seen the music for quite a while. The program was challenging, but that is what the school is all about.

This semester, the school established a broad theme designed to extend across all the performance platforms: Humanity in Harmony: Rituals, Resistance, and Resilience. I took it to mean something about standing up for beliefs and, in some cases, tearing them down.

Joseph Schwantner’s New Morning for the World, based on texts by Martin Luther King Jr., certainly fit the topic at hand. The music deftly blends the violence of the period with the message of hope that MLK delivered. These words are perhaps even more meaningful today.

I spoke to the young musicians, some of whom did not really know much about MLK or what he represented. We distributed the text to them, and I know that several were quite moved. I also told them about performing this work in the late 1980s with musicians from the Soviet Union and the United States. This was just three years before communism fell in Russia. At that time, the narrator was James Earl Jones.

This time, we welcomed singer Sidney Outlaw, who spoke MLK’s words with authority and clarity. The music is very complex, and although it took a while for everyone to settle into the intricate rhythms, the end result was meaningful and moving.

Pairing this piece with Shostakovich’s Symphony No. 11, “The Year 1905” was intentional. Every nation goes through its own turbulent times. Just as Schwantner addressed the injustices of Dr. King’s day, so too did the Russian master deal with the turmoil of the first revolution. With a performance length of one hour, the Eleventh Symphony is a big piece.

The young musicians did a terrific job, particularly the various soloists who shone throughout. The piece ends with the ominous pealing of bells, and I asked everyone to hold their positions when they played their final notes. This prevented applause for a few seconds and created an atmosphere of introspection.

To end on a lighter note, here is an article that I jotted down. Maybe it will go into a book at some point, but in the meantime, I will share it with those of you who have put up with my musings all these years. I want to wish you all the best for the holidays and New Year.

***

 Restiquette: The Art of Service at Dining Establishments

Two qualities define musicians, outside of their profession: a sense of humor and a love of food. The former is a must, as the pressure of performance creates the need to relieve tension. I cannot begin to count the number of times when a brief moment of levity has defused a potentially difficult situation in both rehearsals and concerts.

As far as eating goes, musicians have differing views on when and where this should occur, especially in the hours surrounding a concert. Some wind players and singers say that a satiated belly can help improve breath support, so they might indulge prior to a performance. Others, including me, prefer to dine after the show.

Post-concert meals used to be commonplace, especially in the big cities. Stories and wine flowed, and camaraderie usually prevailed. Today, it can be difficult to find a restaurant that serves past 10:00 in the evening. Long gone are the days when we would arrive at a fine-dining establishment around 10:30 or 11:00 and basically close the place down.

The lack of late-night dining options is much the same around the world now. Given the limited choices, we sometimes find ourselves at fast-food chains. As a guest conductor, I get to spend about a week in a city. Rehearsals are usually in the daytime, leaving a couple of evenings free for decent dining. When I am in a city I do not know well, members of the orchestra will often offer advice.

At home, I am happiest in the kitchen or outside at the grill. With an excellent set of Wolf appliances inside and the Big Green Egg on the porch, I have honed my culinary skills over time. Perhaps I am not equipped to open my own restaurant, but when guests come over, I can usually prepare something interesting and tasty.

Nevertheless, life on the road necessitates many restaurant meals. Over the years, I have compiled a list of pet peeves related to dining out. More than likely, you have experienced some of them as well.

1. Do you remember a time when you did not have to ask a question about the menu? It was pretty straightforward, without fancy vegetables, sides, or unpronounceable sauces. Printing it in French does not guarantee deliciousness. Just tell me what it is and how it is prepared; please spare me the excess verbiage.
2. One of my earliest dining experiences was in Boston on a trip with my parents. The waiter brought over a live lobster, wriggling and squirming, so my mother could see that it was fresh. I can still hear her screams. What about those steakhouses that spend 15 minutes showing you the raw cuts of meat and explaining them? We don’t need to see it before it is cooked.
3. Restaurants are not only for eating but also for conversation—except when the atmosphere prevents it. Acousticians need to be brought in when a new place is under construction, and they should deal with the noise levels. Granted, if the idea is to turn over the tables quickly, the decibel level easily forces people to eat faster. But most of us want to have a relaxed and convivial experience.
4. We are not supposed to use our phones at the table. So why are the items on the menu so small and the lighting so dim that we have to turn the flashlight on?
5. I firmly believe that there must be a school in Switzerland where would-be waiters go to train. It lasts two weeks, and they learn how to be turned in the other direction when patrons are trying to get their attention. They also are finely tuned in the skill of interrupting a key moment in the conversation at the table to ask, “Do you need more time to decide?”
6. Tipping should be for outstanding service—period. It should have nothing to do with the total of the check. The sommelier will open a $200 bottle of Bordeaux the same way as the $15 Chardonnay from an unknown vineyard.
7. Why does the appetizer precede the entrée? In French, the latter word is the appetizer. What happens when you are not so hungry and want two appetizers? Is one of them then the main course?
8. Some establishments pride themselves on an extensive wine list. The cellars are well-stocked, and prices can range from affordable to astronomical. But I did not expect to spend so much time pouring over the War and Peace of varietals. Maybe guests who wish to indulge in oenophile fantasies can head to the basement and find the book waiting there.
9. What is so special about “specials?” Are the dishes listed on the menu less worthy?
10. Stop asking me if I am enjoying the meal. If I am not, believe me, I will let you know.
11. Although I find the open-kitchen concept interesting, I keep waiting for some shouting so I can relate it to The Bear. What happens if we see a mistake made by the chefs? Do we get a rebate and do-over?
12. When did restaurants start assuming that everyone loves balsamic vinegar?
13. Do not clear the table of anything until each customer has finished. It is yet another interruption, and you wouldn’t do it at home.
14. I like olive oil, but when the bread comes, please have butter ready. We should not need a steak knife to slice into it.
15. Please, please make sure that the chair legs do not squeak on the floor. This sound is worse than the proverbial fingernails on the chalkboard.

Courtesy extends both ways. As customers, we expect a certain level of service, but we must likewise be mindful of our behavior to ensure a good experience for ourselves and those around us. Once in a while, a dining experience takes us just a bit out of our comfort zone.

I was in Brussels, dining on my own in a simple bistro. There were only four other people in the restaurant, seated at a table near mine. They were clearly American because one of them spoke with the most annoying Bronx accent imaginable. The menu was in French, and she had to ask about each item, with the waiter patiently describing the offerings. They arrived at the fish selections and the two preparations of sole listed on the menu.

“What is sole provençale?” she asked, prouncing the word, “proven-kale.”

“It is the fillet, baked with tomatoes, olives, and peppers.”

The next item was sole meunière. Her question caused me to burst out in a most inappropriate way:

“How’s the manure?”

***

Bon appétit!

 Leonard