In World War I, Turkey sided with Germany and Austria. The Russians wanted a warm water port and had designs on Turkey. Turkey would have sided with the British, French, and Russians if they had gotten assurances that France and Britain would stop Russia from using the alliance to grab Turkey and a port. Britain and France would make no such assurance so Turkey felt it could not enter the war on the side of the very people threatening it. The other side promised to protect Turkey from Russia and so Turkey entered the war on their side.

The Russians, the British and the French saw Turkey as the Achilles heel of the enemy alliance. Austria and Germany and being Western and Christian they seemed more formidable than Ottoman Turks did. That was particularly true since the forces of Turkey were exhausted after the campaign against Serbia. The plan to take advantage of the situation came from Winston Churchill. Capture Constantinople and the ring around Russia would be broken. Constantinople was on the Marmara Sea, a sea almost entirely enclosed by land except for the narrow passage of straits through the Dardenelles. An Allied fleet was sent to the Dardanelles, to the neck of the bottle that was the Marmara Sea. Because of its strategic value the Turks had forts commanding the straits, but the allied forces thought of them as being held by a second class power that could be swept away.

On February 19 the fleet arrived and began the pounding of the forts. In Constantinople there was panic. By March the Allies had made significant progress and it looked like success was not far away. The German High Command saw the allied attack as a possible deathblow to their side and the Turks were demoralized. The forts that could defend the narrows were nearly destroyed. The largest armada ever assembled to that point was forcing its way up the narrow passage. A Turkish boat laid mines behind the fleet unknown to the invaders.

Then a mine destroyed a French battleship and within just a few minutes three British battleships were also destroyed by Turkish artillery on the land. It was decided that a navy action alone would not work. The attack was postponed with the commanders never realizing that the Turks were hanging on by only a thread. Most of the Turks had already run out ammunition and were fleeing. With victory in his grasp British Admiral De Robeck retreated. The Gallipoli peninsula west of the strait had to be invaded and the defending Turks routed. The British would lead this attack, but it was decided that the Australian and New Zealand ANZAC forces would do much of the fighting.

The attack was postponed for about a month when the Australian and New Zealand troops could be brought in.

There were several serious mistakes in the invasion when it came, but the gallantry of the Anzacs established a beachhead. Faced with overwhelming force the coastal troops began to scatter. But Col. Mustafa Kemal stopped them. “I am not ordering an attack. I am ordering you to die to save your honor.” Seeing the attackers making for the heights of Chunuk Bair, which commanded the entire area, he grabbed the heights first. He rallied the troops. “There is the enemy and you are soldiers. You cannot run. Dig in.” Well, to make a long story short, they dug in and the allied forces dug in. They fought for nine months. In August there was a major British offensive, but it also failed. Kemal was hit in the heart by shrapnel at this time… Or would have been but for a pocket watch that shattered but saved his life. It seemed like an omen.

Then the allied forces decided there was nothing to be gained. This was the beginning of the fame of Mustafa Kemal, known as Ataturk. Command by Kemal was decisive and quick. The command by the British was slow and telegraphed itself. Then men were just thrown at the enemy. There were large losses on each side but it was a great victory for Turkey. Battles of the Turks against the Anzacs were failing not accomplishing anything. After nine months there were 252,000 casualties on the allied side, 218,000 on the Turkish side.

The site of this fighting is our goal for today.

One of the peculiar things about this particular battle is the mutual respect with the two sides treat each other. We saw the same thing at the civil war sites in the US, but there you expect that because it was Americans on both sides. I guess this was a time when the Germans were using weapons like mustard gas. The British apparently half-expected the Turks to do the same. The only Turkish secret weapon was courage. Kichener in his dispatches takes the unusual step of praising the enemy.

Actually, I keep hearing good things about the Turks from unexpected sources. The author of the tour book assumes that most of the negatives you hear about the Turks are pure propaganda. The guy who was imprisoned in a Turkish prison says that the account was exaggerated. In actual fact it would appear to be a toss-up who is more enthusiastic about having Americans in Turkish prisons, the imprisoned American or the Turkish government. The difference is (or at least was) the Turkish government would actually do something about it.

The title Midnight Express refers to a train. The Turkish government did not want the expense and hassle of keeping Americans in their prisons. They made sure that Americans heard that they could sneak aboard this midnight train for Greece. They would end up in Turkey without passports, be arrested and would have to apply to the US Consulate for new passports. The next thing they would see would probably be the Statue of Liberty. It was a clever trick on the part of the Turkish government. It was an escape route for Americans and was absolutely pointless for a Turk to use. A Turkish prison escapee in Greece without a passport… well, there just would not be such a thing.

In this way the Turkish government could look like it was trying to punish the Americans, PLEASING THE AMERICAN GOVERNMENT, but did not have to be strict. The book and movie Midnight Express was really mostly propaganda in America’s drug war. At least that is what the author of the Lonely Planet book thinks. People will believe just about anything bad about the Turks. They have their faults, but I am finding them a friendly and accommodating people, miles better than their reputation.

I can almost believe that most of the negative things we have heard are wrong. It has been my belief that Israel gets much the same treatment. I hear stories that make opening up a door at the end of a tunnel that everybody knew was there is the cause for riots and Israel is found to be totally at fault. These are stories that even on the face of them sound absurd and I am not sure how our commentators can deliver them with a straight face. Right now people are blaming Israel for not making new concessions beyond the peace accords when the other side has yet to renounce its goal of the destruction of Israel. That was the Palestinian’s most basic concession, it could be done with three sentences, and by now it is YEARS past due. Nobody in the press seems to have noticed. I can well see why Israel and Turkey might be making friends. They seem to be in the same position.

By the way I am not saying that Turkish prisons are actually pleasure domes. I have no doubt that Turkish prisons are bad. Whether they are as bad as Mexican prisons, which I have heard are very bad, I don’t know. Any poor country is not going to have very good prisons. The question is who gets put there.

We did not know if breakfast was included with the room, but it turns out that it is. It is a fairly standard Turkish breakfast. Tomatoes, cucumbers, cheese, olives, juice, and of course bread. Then we headed out. Wow, sunshine. Our first sunny day. Well, we had some sun yesterday afternoon, but this is the first of the real sunshine that doesn’t go away when you start to enjoy it.

We stopped at the tourist aid to find out how often were the mini-buses to Troy. The man did not speak English (in tourist aid???) but showed Evelyn where to get the bus. Evelyn asked him “schedule?” No response. “When?” Same response (or lack thereof). She started digging through the phrasebook. I tapped my watch. He made a sign that said they run all the time. Sign language helps.

Following that we went to the Military Museum which is just down the street from our hotel. Everything of interest to tourists in Canakkale seems to be within a few blocks on the water. Admission to the museum is 100,000TL and there is a small two-story museum. It has just the sort of thing you would expect: uniforms, flags, grenades, and pistols. It also has magazine pictures from the campaign that sort of recreate the feel. They finish up with a display of books about the Dardanelles campaign and about Ataturk. Curiously, the famous painting of him shows his eyes to be very blue, an unusual trait for a Turk. However, the same painting also shows him with a narrow nose. Photographs show him to have a wide flatish nose. I suppose it is possible that his nose was broken in one of the military campaigns. The second floor is mostly pencil sketches of the area and landscapes by M. Ai Laga. It is a tiny military museum, but probably worth the 40 cents it cost to see it.

After the museum there is a mockup of a mine-laying cruiser. It is odd to see such a mockup and I am not sure if it was built for training or for an exhibit.

There is also a “castle” on the grounds. I think it would be more accurate to call it a fort. It is complete with its own museum. At this point Evelyn commented “Your 40 cents goes a long way.” Naturally enough I was forced to agree.

In the museum are arms from various points of history. And there are sketches of Ataturk doing various historic things. Not a great military museum, but it delivers more than you would think.

Following that we went to cash some travelers’ checks since the ATM machines seem to be of little help. I was surprised to see women working in the bank without headcover. They are dressed in business suits. I don’t know what happens when one insists on traditional dress. We each came in wearing our vests with lots of pockets. They look vaguely military. I think people thought we were terrorists. They sort of stared at us. I think they were relieved when we left. I think we ought to try to look a little more normal.

I stopped by the neighborhood store across the street. Two Pepsis, a large and small water for $1.70.

At about 11:30 we went to the tourist agency for our tour. We were there a little early and were talking to the boy who works there. He is studying English and working in the agency during the day. He invites us to come around for tea after the tour. Someone shows up with some box lunches and takes us to the dock where I ask a few questions, but he seems not to know English. I hope he is not our guide. Nope, he is just bringing us to the dock. We meet our guide, Ali. He has us board a ferry and I ask some questions about Gallipoli. I notice a lot of places have the suffix “tepe.” He tells me that means “hill.” We cross to the other side of the strait where there is a bus of other people who had just come from Istanbul. They seem to all be Australian or New Zealander except for a Scottish family and us. Cheapskate that I am I ask Ali questions to get the most from the tour. I tell Ali that the British generals were impressed by the Turks and I show him the quote from Kitchener. He tells me I seem to be the most interested in Gallipoli.

Actually just about everything at Gallipoli can be summarized in two points that are made again and again. 1) In the fighting the Turks surprised even themselves by being able to defend their homeland against the strongest military force in the world at that time. 2) Part of that force, the Anzacs, actually became good friends with the Turks whom they had been sent to destroy and maintained, or nearly maintained, a separate peace. The tone of the park seems to be one I saw at Civil War sites in our last trip. It speaks of the courage and nobility on both sides, even when they were trying to kill each other. The enemy was the British commanders. I showed Ali the quote from Kitchener praising the Turks for being more honorable fighters than the Germans. The truth is probably that British were not as inflexibly bad and the Anzacs not as totally sympathetic as the modern myth would claim. Like the Anzacs, the British were given a job to do. Unlike the Anzacs they were given responsibility to see that the campaign worked if possible.

Our first stop at the site of the battle is a military museum. In front there is a statue of two dead soldiers, one holding the flag, one with a gun and a vine growing up the gun. From there we want to some maps just outside the museum where Ali told us about the battle. The point that Ali makes over and over is how much the Turks and the Anzacs respected each other. The British had made stupid mistakes, the Anzacs and the Turks showed great heroism and in the end learned to respect each other and had pretty much set up a separate peace on the battlefield, refusing to fight with each other. The Australians and the Turks had trenches just feet apart. The Australians stopped lobbing hand grenades when it was found the Turks were catching them and throwing them back.

More small facts that are not in the history books:

In one of the British landings they faces some unexpected resistance. They disturbed hives of bees who also heroically defended their homeland.

The Turks considered a great secret that was only revealed recently that the Turks who fought the invaders were from the area they were defending and hence had a very personal stake in countering the invasion.

Once dug in trenches at times only 7 meters apart, the Turks’ and Anzacs’ deadly fighting seemed to kill birds and bees flying around but seemed to leave humans surprisingly unharmed. The two sides entertained each other by singing to each other and exchanging gifts. The Turks had their first taste of chocolate when candy bars came lobbing into their trenches. They returned fire with fresh fruit and vegetables. One day a note got lobbed into the Anzac trench: “I you tobacco. You me paper. Every day. Every day.”

Since Gallipoli was a defensive action, the Turks cannot be said to have gained much. What they gained was the friendship of the Anzacs, the pride of a military victory, and Ataturk.

The Anzacs and Turks are all considered “sons of the new Turkey”

New Zealanders sent their own architect to build their memorial at Gallipoli. The Australians were willing to let the Turks design their memorial. It could be the New Zealanders felt it was not right to let their nominal enemy build a tribute to them when they themselves would not.

The museum is still being built but the sort of thing in it in labeled boxes was letters from soldiers to their parents and other artifacts found on the beaches including shoes, horseshoes, dentures, a skull with bullet, and uniforms.

We stopped at various historic points in the site of the fighting. Most of what there is to see is the lay of the land, graveyards, and memorials.

We had a boxed lunch as part of the tour package. It consisted of a cup of water, a cheese sandwich, and an apple. Ali picked up some cigarette butts while we were sitting there. I figured we were going to throw out the wrappings of the box lunch anyway, so I picked up some trash, there wasn’t really much there to pick up, but it might have had some bearing on a later incident.

Another comment that I made that did not quite sit well with Ali was that the commanders must have sort have agreed to the friendship between the Anzacs and Turks. This creating a separate peace is at least insubordination and is probably a court-martial offense. Essentially it is fraternizing with the enemy.

We went to various memorials. At the one for the Turks, Ali asked Evelyn to place one flower of her choice on a statue. Evelyn pointed out that it said not to pick the flowers. Ali said “just one.” Ali then gave Evelyn a souvenir. It was a keychain with an Anzac bullet, It also had separately a Turkish bullet and a piece of shrapnel.

Our last stop is a monument to Ataturk next to a monument to the New Zealanders.

Driving home past the strait I saw dolphins in the water. I went to Alaska to see whales and did not get nearly so good a look at them. Eventually we got back to the dock and the ferry back to our hotel.

Our nice clear sky turned gray and windy and cold.

I tried to give a 10% tip to Ali. He asked what it was. I told him it was a tip. He seemed to be undecided about taking it, then did and thanked me. I guess that tips are not the custom for tour guides. I had told the boy at the travel agency that I would drop over for tea after the trip. I did with Evelyn and we talked about travel, my flash cards, his school, movies, music, and eventually politics. He thinks that last summer the Greeks set fire to Turkish forests. The fires started 35 different places at once. The fires had to have been set and by the Greeks. He started to drift toward saying that under the Ottoman Turks the country was well run and that he would want to return to those days. I suspect that he was driving at wanting an Islamic State. Of course that reasoning is wrong for multiple reasons. It is not true that everyone was happy under the Ottoman Turks. And there certainly enough countries that are under Islamic rule that are finding it no bargain, at least those who protest are. We were interrupted before he went that far, but I suspect that was where he was going. It is hard enough to do a decent job of running a government when running the government is your first priority.

Well, it was back to the room after that and then to the restaurant next door for dinner. I had eggplant and yogurt and fried calamari. Evelyn had yogurt and peppers and lamb chop for dinner.

Then it was back to the room to work on the logs and listen to music in Turkish. The evenings are not so hot, but then it gives me time to write.

I think that most places where we have been having cheese for breakfast it has been kind of bland. I just realized that what we are getting here is Feta Cheese. It looks the same and probably is related but it a lot tangier and saltier. That is a good touch. Turkish breakfasts have very little variation. So do the other meals. We have been avoiding the steam-table sort of restaurant where the food is hours old and does not look very good. Oh, one other difference with this breakfast at the hotel. Here they have rose jam. Usually it is strawberry and cherry.

I wonder how many pedestrians are killed in Ankara each year. The drivers are not very careful and the walker is constantly in danger.

The Museum of Anatolian Civilizations is claimed to be the one world-class museum in Ankara. I can well believe it. I had always wanted to go to the countries where they worshipped the Babylonian sort of gods. Now the place you would go for that is Iraq. I am not going to go to Iraq. But the same gods were worshipped in what we now call Turkey. Most of the best have been removed from the original sites and taken to Ankara. It is here and it is beautiful. There are really two parts to this museum. There is a central hall and there is an outer hall surrounding it on three sides. The outer hall is a decent archeological museum. By itself it is worth the trip from the hotel. The central hall has what Howard Carter would call “wonderful things.” It is worth the trip to Ankara. This has great stone wall decorations. It is a wonderland of lion-headed humans and human-headed lions. There are gods portrayed like men and men portrayed like gods. There are strange animals and battling gods. There are big stones with hieroglyphics. There are bulls bucking and demons with bird heads. There are lions and bulls and long horned sheep. There are boars being hunted with bow and arrow and deer. There are griffins and who know what the creatures are. There are warriors and kings. If it ain’t wonderful it didn’t make the cut. It is like a wonderland of ancient history.

There seem to be a lot of school groups. Children love to show off that they know “hello.” As you enter the hall you are greeted by an eight-foot statue of a forgotten king. Soon you are looking at winged gods. You see eagle-men with bodies like men and heads like birds.

The outer hall shows a chronological collection of artifacts from many civilizations. It seems like every case for a stretch shows the evolution of deer figures. There is a lot, though it could be shown to better effect to play off the wonderful central chamber.

I bought two “fake antiquities” to use the term in the Egyptian guidebook. One was a tile of a chimera. It is a winged lion with two heads, one lion one human. It is an imitation of one from the Herald’s Wall at Carchemish from 950 to 850 BC. The other is the storm god from a relief 750 to 700 BC.

After going through the museum we looked at the central room again and worked on our logs in fine company.

Walking around citadel was our next order of business. This is a fortress that overlooks Ankara built in its present form in the 9th Century AD. There is not a lot to see but some tall walls and gates. There are several groups of school children on field trips.

We keep running into groups of ten-year-olds who want to try their English making simple conversation. Sometimes they want me to take their pictures. Occasionally they ask for pens. (I wish I had brought some extras.) Usually they just want to be friendly. I photograph a couple of groups.

The heights of the citadel give a commanding view of city. For lunch we go to the Zinger Pasha Museum and restaurant. It really is just an old house with a restaurant on the top floor. It is a pleasant place to eat nice view.

They brought out a different sort of bread. It is like an English muffin only softer and fresher tasting. It is the same thickness but about 6 inches in diameter. For appetizers Evelyn ordered melon pickle salad and I ordered mushroom yogurt. The latter is just what it sounds like. It is yogurt and mushroom to be eaten with the good bread. Incidentally the one word that Turkey contributed to the languages of the world and it is always mispronounced. The “g” in “yogurt” has a little smile over it. That makes the “g” silent. The word is pronounced “yo-urt.” Now, imagine a slice of dill pickle four inches in diameter and three quarters of an inch thick. There are no cucumbers you could take a slice like that out of, but there are melons you can. We got two pickled melon slices. The center was stuffed with peppers and diced tomatoes. That’s Melon Pickle Salad. Next came the main courses.

I had Filet Mignon in a cream mushroom sauce. It came with peas, rice, parsley, a tomato wedge, bread, about ten perfect French fries, and a fiery green pepper. Was it the best meal of this trip? It was the best meal of this year. Evelyn had lamb chops. I had a Pepsi. This was a fancier restaurant and it shoed up in the bill. 5,150,000TL or about $21. The Turks tend to write the dollar sign after the number, by the way. They would say it was 21$.

Following lunch we walked through the bazaar outside. Little shops with spices, scarves, hardware, toys, bread, one after another, elbowing each other out. I got a piece of weaving for my office. Evelyn got two scarves for herself. Now my best shoes for work had also the best walking tread so I brought them. The problem is that they are suede, and the sidewalks of Turkey have pretty much done them in. I think I may risk having them cleaned toward the end of the trip in the hope that someone can find something that can be done with them. But in the meantime I am out a pair of shoes for work. Things are cheaper in Turkey. It was Turkey that grotted up the last shoes. Why not let Turkey save me money on the next? I passed a shoe store and saw a pair of suede shoes that suited me. How much? 4,000,000TL. $16. They seemed to feel pretty good. How am I going to turn down a pair of suede shoes I need for $16? The dance show tonight is $2.40. How can you beat these prices?

We had gone almost at random in the market and had now pretty well lost ourselves. However, Evelyn sighted the tall Ziraat Bank Building and with a little walking we were back at our hotel. Around the corner we stopped in a bakery and grocery. We needed water and were all out of Cappy Cherry. I asked Evelyn to pay. I took a picture of the different kinds of bread. With a grin the owner wanted me to shoot the back of his store and then the counter where he posed for me. Then he gave me the business card for his store wanting us to show it with the pictures. The Turks are a fun people.

Back at the room we wrote in our logs. I saw a little of Turkish TV. It is surprising how much Jewish music you hear in locally produced ads. They just ran an ad with “Eli Melech” as the background music. We saw the end of a “Cadfael” dubbed into Turkish. Now there is a Japanese Samurai film dubbed into Turkish but still subtitled in English. I wonder what it is. Well, it might as well be in Turkish as Japanese. Got it. The film is about Takezo but he will change his name. This is the first of three films that tell the saga of Musashi Miyamoto who is turned from evil to good and eventually fights Kojiro in a famous duel on an island whose name I have forgotten. Eiji Yoshikawa told the story in an epic novel called Musashi. The same filmmaker made a fourth film, Kojiro, told from Kojiro’s point of view. This film was the first third of the story.

They also ran some old Max Fleischer Superman cartoons.

I went to use the bathroom to get ready to go out and discovered that there was no water. There remains constant water on the floor around the toilet. That is always there. I guess three stars does not buy what it used to in a hotel. Somehow there has always managed to be water at the base of the toilet. I suspect by the color it leaks sewage though I have not noticed a smell.

We were not hungry enough for a full dinner so went to a sweet shop. Evelyn had Tabuk Gogsu and a beverage Boza. The former is pounded chicken breast with cream sugar and cinnamon. The drink is fermented millet. I had a chocolate pudding, hearing that they were particularly good and having little idea how good chocolate pudding can be. It is cooked chocolate pudding with a small cream puff at the center and chocolate shavings over the top. It was a wower. Very nice. Cost for the three items is less than $3.

There is sort of a headwaiter. First a busboy walks to a corner of the restaurant behind me where nothing is happening but he can look over my shoulder. Then the headwaiter does the same. Both seem very concerned about what I am typing. They have not seen a lot of people come into their restaurant typing things before. He is behaving as if he thinks I am checking up on him.

Today has been a fairly good day. Now we are off to the theater to see what I am guessing is three ballets. They are Symphonic Dances. The music seems to be from Beethoven’s 7th Symphony, Ravel’s “Bolero,” and Shubert’s “Bitmemis” Symphony. I am not sure which Schubert it is, but I am guessing it is the Unfinished Symphony. In any case we will have a fighting chance to know what is going on tonight. I doubt they will be dancing in Turkish. Music and dance transcend the language barrier.

Last night the program book was 40 cents; tonight it is $2. I guess you need a lot more text to cover dance. We got to the theater at 7:05 and people are slowly arriving. People dress to varying degrees. There are kids of 12 who come dressed like… well, like kids of 12 insist on dressing. Sloppy pants, running shoes. He looks like he could be an American. Some people are dressed very formally in jacket and tie and some in tee shirts. I am dressed as well as I can be after travelling for two and a half weeks in Turkey. That is to say I am just a bit on the shabby side. The only thing really out of place is the fact my shoes need a cleaning (desperately). The crowd looks a lot like the crowd one might get for this event a Lincoln Center. Take a photograph of this crowd and you would never guess that it was taken in Turkey.

They use no ushers to take people to their seats. It is assumed to be a service that is unnecessary. Otherwise I saw nothing the slightest threadbare about the performance last night, in spite of the very low cost. The tickets are all printed in one book. As they are sold they are ripped out of the book. Crude but effective.

Every seat in the theater has a unique number. The row letter is useful information, but it is redundant. We have much better seats tonight. The fire curtain looks like a Turkish painting of musicians and a woman dancing.

A woman pushes past me on the row and says two or three sentences to me in Turkish. They sounded friendly enough. The couple next to me is dressed very formally, but the woman’s suit smells of camphor.

The nice thing about dance is even if the dance conveys little to you still have the music. In this case it was indeed Schubert’s Unfinished Symphony.

Now there are many people for whom their most meaningful experience with classical music was Fantasia. That is not the case with me. I did not even see Fantasia until I was in college. The film that fulfills the same function for me is The Black Cat (1933) with Boris Karloff and Bela Lugosi. I cannot hear any of the vast array of classical music used in that film without being plunged into that wonderful sepulchral battle of mortal enemies. That is my idea of a great movie. Of course, hearing the first movement of the “Unfinished” and I was back on the battlements of Fort Marmaros in spite of whatever was happening on the stage.

Part of the problem was the man sitting in front of me was somewhat tall and had a short haircut which made his hair stand out like a brush. I think the dance had something to do with the nature of art. There were music stands as props and women in tights and men in frock coats a la Chopin, but without shirts. Well, even if one ignores the dance this can be considered a concert.

I admit I don’t know a lot about modern dance. Years ago when we visited a place that no longer exists by the name of Leningrad we went to see a dance show. They were folk dances and at the height of the dance they brought a bear onto the stage. We really enjoyed the night. Since then my acid test for a dance piece is would it be improved by bringing a bear onto the stage. Few pieces of modern dance can stand up to the bear test. The next piece was done to Ravel’s “Bolero.” It had women in what looked like swimsuits and men in tight black dance outfits. The movement seemed abstract. Again, I cannot tell you what they were trying to say and at least for me, the performance sadly needed a bear on stage. A Bolero is a dance. If you are going to create a dance to go with the music, it had better use the music better than the original dance did. This did not. It had movements in time to the music, but it takes more than that to make a dance for the music.

At the intermission people step past me to get out of the seats or back in. The two people next to Evelyn first excuse themselves in Turkish. The second time out (there were two intermission) the woman said something in Turkish and the man said “sorry.” Coming back in the woman said nothing and the man again said “sorry.” He probably told her not to speak Turkish because we would not understand.

The climax of the evening was Beethoven’s Seventh. This starts out more lighthearted and lively than the previous music. There were more dancers on the stage and they did a better job of representing the music, at least to me. When there was repetitive sound in the music there were enough dancers that there was a pair for each repetition. I thought they did a really good interpretation. In this case no bear was required. There was a problem. The audience seemed unfamiliar with the music. Twice in the third movement the choreographer brought lines of dancers to the front of the stage and the audience thought it was a curtain call. They started applauding and drowned out the music. The dancers stood at the front of the stage and waited for the applause to die down before continuing, but it must have thrown them off. Now admittedly much of the fault was that of the choreographer. But I think someone was assuming that everybody knew that the music of any (but the “Unfinished”) symphony is not over until four movements have passed. At the beginning of the second movement Evelyn gave me a look. It was more great music from The Black Cat. It also was music that was used in Zardoz. I tell you every great dark piece of classical music from Romantic era shows up somewhere in The Black Cat.

Following the performance Evelyn and I walked home in a light rain. The water was back on when we got to the room. We had bought candy bars to eat at the intermission, but I had been busy writing about the performance. So we ate them in the room.