From Gil Dori:

 

On October 16th I was supposed to fly from Phoenix to Tel Aviv via London. I never made it on this flight, though, because BA gate agents proactively denied me from boarding before the gate was closed, stating that it would take too long to load my mobility scooter. The supervisor at the airport even admitted that if I were an able bodied person, they would have treated me differently, allowing me to board the plane. This blatant discrimination was only a part of the maltreatment I experienced at the hands of BA.

I checked in at the counter two and a half hours before the flight. I was accompanied by my good friend, who always helps me when I fly out of Phoenix. Normally, he receives a gate pass, which allows him to go through security with me, because only he can assist me with things skycaps can not, such as standing up, and going to the bathroom. Doing those is crucial before I fly, especially before long distance flights. This time, however, the person who was in charge that evening (as the supervisor was on call), refused to issue a gate pass for my friend. We tried to explain how important it is for my health, but to no avail. Seeing that we were not able to reason with the person in charge, I resorted to stay with my friend until the very last moment which will give me enough time to pass through security and be at the gate by the time I was requested.

Unfortunately, TSA experienced difficulties, and I was in line for security check longer than usual. BA gate agents knew my whereabouts. As I was waiting in line, I was approached by two TSA agents who searched for me on behalf of BA. However, instead of sending someone to help me through security, which often happens with passengers who need special assistance, the person in charge called the supervisor, and they both decided to deny me from boarding the plane. Shortly after this decision was made, I was approached by a third TSA agent—not even a BA personnel—who delivered the message from the gate, saying that I missed my flight.

Only when I went back to the check in counter to rebook my flight, I discovered that not only BA did not have the decency and courtesy to send their own employee, but that the information they gave me was false. To my dismay, I found out that boarding was still in progress at the time I received the message, so I certainly did not miss my flight when it happened. The person in charge confirmed that boarding started four minutes ahead of schedule, and that she called the supervisor to consult about my situation ten minutes after boarding started. Five minutes afterwards, they decided to deny me from boarding the plane.

When I asked the person in charge to explain this decision, she stated that she made the assumption that I will not make it to the gate on time, and even if I would, loading my wheelchair will cause a delay. Moreover, she refused to let me speak to the supervisor on the phone, even though the latter was on call.

The next day, I confronted the supervisor about her statement, and he even added that this decision was made only due to the fact I use a wheelchair. He mentioned that if any other person who does not use a wheelchair were in the same situation, their decision would have been to allow that person to board the plane as long as the gate is open.

I truly believe this whole ordeal could have been avoided entirely had the gate agents were not so indifferent to my plight. Unfortunately, they chose to not only treat me poorly as a passenger, but also to discriminate against me on the basis of my physical disability.

Unfortunately, BA continues to deal with my case badly and disrespectfully, not considering its gravity seriously. Only after a month from filing a complaint, I received a reply from BA Costumer Relation. Their response was filled with cheap platitudes–about their highly trained employees and about doing all they can to make travel easy and comfortable–but not a single sincere apology to be seen. I kept writing them, of course, but all their emails read the same, with ready-made phrases, as if they were generated by a program that responds to key words in the body of the text.

All The responses I have received, so far, are under the assumption that I complain about, and seek compensation for, the delay in security that caused me to miss the flight. However, the delay is not the issue. I am not expecting an airline to delay flights for passengers who are held up at security, nor do I ask compensation for the delay. What I do pursue, is to right the wrongdoings made by BA– the discriminatory treatment I have received, and the insulting way they handle the situation. It is for this humiliation I seek compensation.

 

It is reported that the Catherine French group headhunted Michael Henson for Minnesota, Stanley Romanstein for Atlanta (allegedly) and now the destructive Janelle McCoy to the Oregon Bach Festival.

If you want to know more about the Catherine French group, this is what you get.

But the record speaks for itself.

The Latvian conductor of the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra has quickly retracted a remark made to a Telegraph interviewer in which he said that women conductors ‘are not my cup of tea’.

In a statement on Friday he said:

‘I come from a generation in which the conducting profession was almost exclusively reserved to men. Even today, many more men than women pursue conducting professionally.

‘But it was undiplomatic, unnecessary and counterproductive for me to point out that I’m not yet accustomed to seeing women on the conducting platform.

‘Every one of my female colleagues and every young woman wishing to become a conductor can be assured of my support, for we all work in pursuit of a common goal: to excite people for the art form we love so dearly – music.’

Fair enough. But the episode still leaves a foul taste.

Firstly, why would any serious journalist ask Mariss Jansons about women in the podium when he has so much else to say about life and music? Clearly the interviewer was fishing for an artificial scandal and got what he wanted. Let’s hope he’s happy now.

Second, Mariss Jansons is a man of unblemished record who survived both Soviet and western-commercial pressures. English is his fourth language after Latvian, Russian and German. How well he understood the question or the metaphor he used in reply is itself questionable. It was a slip of the tongue, no malice intended.

Third, when the guardians of lexical correctness leaped upon him he did what damage-limitation PRs now advise, which is to apologise as quickly as possible. The forced apology has its origin in Stalinist persecutions.

That’s why this episode leaves such a foul aftertaste.

photo: Chris Christodoulou/Lebrecht

This was the Russian baritone’s breakthrough moment at the finals of the 1989 BBC Cardiff Singer of the World Competition.

Irresistible. And not quite 27 years old.

What we lost in Dmitri Hvorostovsky.

And a new video, released this weekend by the ROH:

Everyone has heard of Milstein, Oistrakh, Kogan – the ones who made it.

But what of Miron Polyakin, Busya Goldstein, Mikhail Finget, who were reputedly their equals?

 

A fascinating long essay by Grigoriy Kuperstayn (in Russian), with audio clips, here.

 

 

 

Phillipa Reive was today appointed Director, Creative Campus, Snape Maltings. Kate Wyatt was named Producer – Opera and Music Theatre.

A new year-round hub is slowly taking shape.

All names in this article are spelled correctly (rather than creatively).

From the Lebrecht Album of the Week:

This has to be the least expected record of the year – a performance of Ein deutsches Requiem in the original English, at least in the texts of the original English Bible….

Read on here.

 

From my piece in the Spectator today:

… And this is where the Chinese revolution comes close to home. Shanghai grads have been winning seats in orchestras across the US and Europe. The next wave of Chinese players will be coming from our own colleges, royal and ancient and underused.

Every ranking music conservatory is now marketing in China, peddling its pedigree for dear life…

Read on here.

 

From the London Times obituary:

To some of his critics Hvorostovsky — with his silver locks, piercing features and air of vulnerability — was little more than the oligarchs’ opera star, a man of mystery with connections deep inside the political heart of Moscow, evidence of Russian meddling in opera long before the country had started influencing elections. He duetted with Renée Fleming in Red Square, sang to an audience of 6,000 in the Kremlin and when he turned 50 received a birthday telegram from President Putin.

This is completely unfounded. Alone among Russian singers, Hvorostovsky refused to sign Putin’s manifestos or dance to the Kremlin’s tune. He enjoyed mass popularity in Russia and Putin left him alone. If the Times knows of controlling oligarchs or ‘mystery’ connections, it should name them rather than promulgate false rumours. It should also name ‘some of his critics’, who contributed to the obit.

His second wife successfully persuaded him to cut back on his heavy smoking and drinking, but by then the damage was done and in the summer of 2015 a brain tumour was diagnosed.

Cause and effect? There is no known link between smoking and brain cancers. This is just another slur, blaming a man for his own death.

Will anyone own up to writing this unseemly trash?

We hear that seven seats in the strings of the internationally-boycotted Malaysian Philharmonic have been earmarked for ethnic Malays – no Chinese or Europeans need apply.

That’s what the chief executive has been telling her colleagues.

The MPO has been a pariah orchestra ever since it cleaned out most of its foreign players.

Those seats may stay empty a while yet.

In a packed international schedule, our diarist Anthea Kreston squeezes in time to see students – and their mothers.

 

 

The taxi picked me up a moment ago – it is 5:45 AM – this week I have been to Brussels twice, now I head to Geneva and will also have played in Cologne, Berlin and Munich before I write my diary again. In-between these concerts, some of my quartet colleagues go directly to the next destination, but I always opt to go home, if at all possible, to even spend an afternoon or portion of the day with my family. Yesterday was such a day – arriving home the night before, after midnight, from two days teaching at the Queen Elizabeth Chapel in Brussels (where the Queen Elizabeth competitions are held, as well as a flourishing year-round residential program for top soloists and chamber groups). I snuggled with my daughters – to even have those moments to share sleep, to hear their little breaths coming in and out, shifting and resettling after I climb in – this is worth the extra effort to come home. It was Thanksgiving – how could I not come back?

We spent the morning lazily, going shopping and peering in on the progress of our local Christmas Market (built upon a long blocks-worth of wooden platforms – including an ice rink, train, multi-story wooden cabins, mulled wine and trinket shoppes).  We got ingredients for our meal, and I left directly for some teaching and meetings at the Universität der Künste, where I am still agog at walking the same hallways as the Schumanns or teaching in the Carl Fleisch Hall.

My mother is here for these weeks – I am gone much more than I am here – to help with the day-to-day ins and outs. Our daughters played a little concert for us before dinner – when I got back from work, they were in the kitchen with grandma in their new aprons – making a cake. Next to our place settings, each of us had a card from our older daughter, with drawings and things she was thankful for. They had made a centerpiece of colored papers surrounding votive candles. It did feel like Thanksgiving- so far from our home, friends and family – we have made a nest for ourselves here – slowly and with many missteps and small victories.

After dinner, I had promised one of my old Corvallis students a FaceTime lesson – as the call was answered, the familiar faces of his parents were in the screen as my student wandered in, yawning in his pajamas. They were in the midst of preparing a meal for 30 guests – a lovely Persian family who became close friends during our time in Oregon.

After our lesson, I asked my student if I could talk to his mom for a moment. Calling into the kitchen in Farsi, his mom came in, wiping hands on her apron. She and I spoke for some time – things have not been easy recently here for us, and I was eager for a sympathetic ear, some advice or understanding. So many of our friends and students have made a similar move to ours – coming to America with suitcases and children in hand, to make a new life in a foreign land and with little knowledge of the culture or language. And yet, through fits and starts, we all flourish.

She listened, resisted offering advice – just explored options and solutions with me. By the end of the conversation, we were both crying a little, and gave each other a hug over the computer. I read this week about a scientific research project on happiness and wellbeing. There was one simple question that caught my eye – it was – “is there anyone in your life you would feel comfortable calling at 4 AM to talk about a problem”? If there is, your life expectancy is greater. I thought of this person, expecting 30 guests in a matter of minutes, who took the time to listen, to connect. And I can think of a handful of people who I would be able to talk to this way. I do, indeed, have a lot to be thankful for.

A post-Brexit enticement from our good German friends:

Ladies and Gentlemen,

German surtitles for operas sung in other languages have been provided at Oper Frankfurt since 1990 and, later on, could also be seen for operas performed in German. Early on, audiences were very critical of there being any surtitles at all, but they soon became more acceptable because audience members could follow the operas better  – in Frankfurt and other opera houses. Nowadays one cannot imagine a leading opera house not providing, at least, surtitles in the language of their country.

Oper Frankfurt has just introduced English surtitles, which appear above the stage alongside German surtitles, for all performances in the main house. Exceptions are two concert performances of Donizetti’s Roberto Devereux from February 2nd2017, the revival of Britten’s Billy Budd (which is performed in English anyway) from May 19th 2018 and the remaining performances, this season, of Verdi’s Il trovatore and Mozart’s Die Entführung aus dem Serail. New monitors were installed at the beginning of the 2017/18 season at the sides of the auditorium, under the circles, for people who could not see the central monitor well but, because of a lack of space, and technical reasons, only the German surtitles can be seen on them.

 

alles klahr?

‘We see the provision of English surtitles as an attractive offer for our increasingly international audiences – particularly in a city like Frankfurt – which will hopefully make a visit to the opera all the more enjoyable. Anyone who experienced, as was the case during a performance of Mozart’s Così fan tutte, when technical problems prevented the surtitles from being projected, would have been surprised by the lack of laughter in the audience. This is evidence for me of how surtitles for operas have become fully established, and almost taken for granted. And, to our surprise, one really can hear how our audiences’ enjoyment has increased since we have started providing English surtitles,’ said Opernintendant Bernd Loebe.