Not long ago, it was sitting with John Holland, et al, at South Miami-Dade Cultural Arts Center. Last night, it was joining the Cabans, and basking in a sort of unbelievable evening at musimelange at the M Building (corner of NW 2nd Ave and 30th St). Lauren said she sort of expected to see me there. If she had called me, she and Robert and I could have carpooled. Although it's a vastly shorter ride than to Cutler Bay.
We've talked before about musimelange. It always occurs in the M Building, which may at one time have been sort of a factory, but I think was a house after that, and is now a function building and gallery of unusual art. (People have weddings and stuff there.) musimelange is an evening with hors d'oeuvres, a sort of light (but unlimited) dinner, unlimited wine, whatever musical program musimelange's founder and artistic director puts together, as much socializing as you could want, and unlimited dessert. The hors d'oeuvres are always bread and cheeses, and water. The wines are variable, depending on what the supplier wants to bring, but always top shelf B&G, last night's dinner was sushi, and the dessert was fruit cremes. They did have a chocolate one, and I always gravitate to chocolate, but the kiwi was better.
musimelange has been on hold for three years, because of the coronavirus, and it was resurrected last night with a vengeance. There were lots of presentations, from duets to sextets, spanning modern to Baroque music, and someone said there were 18 different musicians (including Amanda Crider and some other woman singer I don't know). I think there were four different pianists. And two violinists. And a violist. And two cellists, both of whom I know, and one of whom was my son's best friend in early school years. And a bass player. And a clarinetist. And a woman who usually plays oboe, but who played English horn last night.
The founder of musimelange is French, and she gets all of her French friends to come, as patrons or helpers. One French guy whom I have never before seen there, but who knows the founder, is Corentin ("Corey"), whose last name I don't know, and who owned Cafe Creme on 125th St (immediately next to MOCA), until, as he told me last night, he sold it in December.
It's worth noting -- it was certainly worth noting last night -- that in recent years, Marvin Sackner and his wife have both died. Marvin was a doctor -- pulmonary, if I remember correctly -- on Miami Beach, and he invented some medication, started his own pharmaceutical company, sold it for a lot of money, and became a very appreciated donor around town. His name is near the top of the list of big donors to several arts organizations, including Seraphic Fire, GableStage, and musimelange. Marvin used to choose one musimelange performer every year, and bring them here, not infrequently from Europe. He paid for everything for that presentation. Everyone was grateful to him, and one performer last night dedicated the performance to him.
Because of the nature of the room, it's always crowded at musimelange. This makes maneuvering tricky, but it allows for lots of interaction, including with the performers. The feel is very intimate, as if someone was presenting a concert in your living room. There might have been about 100 people there, and the seating was close, and wood. So...
The food was spectacular, as it always is. Anne Chicheportiche, a local, but French, professional violinist, who is the founder of musimelange, has settled on always using a local (French, of course) chef whose first name is Vincent, to create the dishes. They're always magnificent. So was last night's sushi, except -- who knew?! -- Robert Caban happens to be allergic to seafood, so he didn't get to eat any of the dinner.
The music. I didn't know any of it, and I loved it all. I had gotten there early, while they were rehearsing, so I knew there was Vivaldi, who is my favorite composer. The program started with modern music, then worked its way back through the Romantic and Classical periods, ending with the Baroque and Vivaldi. The joke about Vivaldi is that he only wrote one concerto, but he wrote it 200 times. Nyuk, nyuk. Yes, it's true that Vivaldi is very recognizable from one piece to another (the "Red Priest" taught music to girls and young women in Venice, and he was more interested in writing pieces from which they could learn to play than he was in writing a range of music within the Baroque style), but for me, it's totally captivating. Rossini did some of the same stuff in the Classical period, "sampling" himself from one piece to another.
The cost to attend musimelange is an interesting matter. In a sense, it's not cheap. I pay in cash at the door, so it costs me $85. I could have paid about $10 less in advance, but that would have cost musimelange the credit card commission, and it would have been $10 less income for them. So, I do it this way. But for what you get -- as much food and wine as you want, spectacular music, and great companionship -- it's actually sort of a pretty good deal. I haven't been to musimelange for over three years. No one has. But last night, there were smiles, hugs, catching up, and a genuine feeling of being among friends. $85 is not a high price to pay just for that. One of the pianists didn't look like a classical pianist. He was a casual-looking young guy, and he had an almost cocky style to him. And it seemed clear he was playing his piece while chewing gum. (This is not what you expect at a concert of classical music.) So, when the concert was over, and we were all having our dessert and champagne, I told him I had never before seen a classical musician chewing gum while performing. He said he wasn't chewing gum, and he was disappointed that it looked that way. He had taken piano lessons for two years as a young kid, given them up, and returned to piano in high school! He hadn't yet gotten over being nervous, and as much water as he drank all day yesterday, because the anxiety makes his mouth dry, his mouth was still dry while he was playing. He was unaware of the mouth movements that looked to me like chewing gum. And he was a really nice kid, and good to talk to. Where else do you get interactions like that?
musimelange very typically happens over a short, four-event, season, usually starting in January, and ending in about April. This one was special for a number of reasons. I don't know when the next presentation will be, but I'm on their list. So are the Cabans. If this sounds appealing to you, you can let me, or the Cabans, know, and we'll tell you when the next presentation is. Or, you can probably find musimelange's website, and get yourselves on the list. You'll be very glad you did.
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