The life of the locked-out Other Mozart…

“You can’t play under pressure,” the lowest-of-the-low — the player I call “Monostatos” — whispered in my ear as we stood on the darkened stage at Orchestra Hall. I had been invited often weekly to ‘practice’ on this stage, and the sounds of die zauberflote soared even throughout the building when I did. Mozart, Bach, Neilsen, Khatchaturian, Mahler were my usual contributions — at times playing violin as well as flute concertos. But Monostatos, as usual, was not being truthful. What he meant to say was that I was surrounded by adversaries who managed to control almost every area of my life. Monostatos himself led the cadre of players who crawled out of the woodwork to make strange statements and even odder requests. This could only be described as a very bizarre experience.

But Monostatos had miscalculated. I had learned long ago to observe the behavior of people when they heard die zauberflote for the first time. That had happened over a year earlier, in this case. Monostatos’ reaction had been especially interesting. He lay in wait, as it were, and then attempted to falsely criticize me. I could have told him then that, ‘well, this sound is perfect, so I can do whatever I want,” but I bit back those words. Instead, I observed. And I waited for die zauberflote to do what Wolf had promised in the opera long ago — to stop evil in its tracks and use everything for good. Miraculously, as I hope you will see, that is what has happened…:-)

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Pamina, the Other Mozart M4B*

Mozart-1783-lange

Being the Other Mozart has not as much to do with chops and musical brilliance as it does with destiny and character.  I knew I carried this burden of picking up where Wolf left off when I was very small.

pamelanbear

(That’s me, with my teddy bear, on the back steps of the Victorian house in Bridgeport, CT, where we lived before moving to Fairfield. I still have the bear.)

I heard his music on the radio and knew who he was even before I heard about his life. I felt he had done a terrible job.  He had left an awful mess for me. In fact, it seemed overwhelming at that time.  But God, in His mercy, has managed  to develop in me a character similar to Wolf’s.  For one thing, as you can see, I don’t give up.  For another, I always try to take a positive stance.  I look to God to use everything for good. I am frequently surprised, but never disappointed.

Then, of course, there is the incomparable and inimitable sound of die zauberflote, which seems to make a lot of people act a just bit crazy.  But that’s another story…

And don’t worry — if you are, by this time, thinking, “Well I never!  She doesn’t DESERVE to be the other Mozart!” I can assure you that this fact has been drummed into me constantly, and often on a daily basis.  In fact, you can just ask my children — Keith, Kirk and Katherine! 🙂

Me with my three K's...:-)

I hope you will ‘bear’ with me as I tell you more about what I believe actually happened to Wolf and why.  I will tell you about those who have done their best to help me, and those who have betrayed me and even plotted my death.  (Actually, as my position is one of stature, the correct term is probably ‘assassination’.) In return,  I ask you to set aside just about everything you thought you knew about Wolf.  Much of the information you may be considering credible might even have even been deliberately disseminated by some with a hidden agenda.

(This painting of me as a young adult was done by my Great-Aunt Marge.  She was a professional artist in Chicago, where I was born.)

*M4B=Mozart For Believers

Tisha B’av, the 10th Anniversary of the I35W Bridge Collapse, and the Sorry Story of Monostatos’ Orchestra –M4B*

On August 1 of this year we commemorate, or really mourn, the ancient solemn day of the destruction of both the Jewish temples — the First by Babylonians, the Second, by the Romans. It is the saddest day in Jewish history.  Other tragedies have occurred on or near this day.  Ironically, this year is the tenth anniversary of the terrible and unanticipated collapse of the I 35W bridge over the Mississippi River connecting Minneapolis and St.Paul.

I had traveled on that bridge just about every day preceding the collapse, as my daughter and her family — with our shared dogs– lived on the other side of the river.  She, along with my two sons, their families, and I, flew out of MSP to DC for my Mother’s birthday party on August 1, 2007.  We were, in fact, rehearsing for our performances that evening when we were told the shocking news.  There was no cable where we were rehearsing, and phones and the internet were bogged down.  We frantically looked for photos and information about what had happened and why.

Mr. Vanska, and his sidekick, Mr. Schrickel (who had a tangential connection to my family) were also apparently overwhelmed with the seriousness of this tragedy, as Mr. Vanska then composed, and Mr. Schrickel –with the Metropolitan Symphony — performed a piece called “The Bridge”.  Did they consider at that time that there might even be a deeper significance to this terrible event?  It’s hard to tell…

Now, almost five years after the lockout of the Minnesota Orchestra players, and the ongoing lockout of me, the Other Mozart, are they starting to make a connection? In fact, on this day in 2013 I mailed a letter to Mr. Vanska, asking to be heard in the place where I had once been enticed by Mr. Shrickel and his cohorts to practice on the darkened stage.

Does anyone in Monostatos’ Orchestra have a conscience?  Does anyone care about the people of Minnesota who have given them their trust and their money, not to mention their loyalty?  Is there any chance that at some point they too, as did Gustav Mahler (whom they have programmed prominently for the next season) call out — in his final words — “Mozart!  Mozart!  Mozart!”?

*M4B=Mozart For Believers

 

 

 

‘Miles’ and die zauberflote…

I nicknamed my horse “Miles” because of my appreciation for the incomparably awesome jazz/fusion of Miles Davis, and also because his gaits are so smooth. “Miles” and I did a photo shoot yesterday. It is for a seminar I am taking on cinema production at Independent Film Project Minnesota http://ifpmn.org/

The video I will be creating will, I hope, be an impression of my proof-of-concept-short Out of Night and Fog. In it, I will use photos of “Miles” and me coming out of the vortex of night and fog. In those photos I am mounted and carrying the flute. (More about that later). This photo is an out-take showing “Miles” reaction to my playing the flute for him…:-)

Life Imitates Art…

This week I have been working furiously on the outline for my screenplay, INTERDICTION, as the six-month course I have been taking is coming to a close. Two Floridian family members who tour the northern 48 in the summer were traveling through the Twin Cities on their way to Chicago. I met them for breakfast at a restaurant just off the Interstate, so they would not have to go out of their way to see me. As I was coming from the west, I knew traffic would build quickly at that time of day, and left early. As I anticipated having some time to spare before they arrived, I brought the outline with me. Indeed, I had almost a half-hour to work on it.

When the woman asked me what I was doing with my time, I mentioned the screenwriting course. “Oh, is this one of those local classes,” she asked, with a hint of a sneer? “No,” I said. “It’s online. From LA.” I received a look of what might have been stunned disbelief. I couldn’t tell.

“What are you going to do with your day?” she later asked, as though counseling an invalid. “Go back home? Go see your horse?” She shook her head at me as though I was some sort of truant from what should have been my real responsibility, whatever that was. I felt baffled.

“Yes,” I replied. “I have an assignment to turn in. Later I will see my horse. And I’ll probably stop at the health club on the way back.”

What was she getting at?

There were great depths of subtext going on, yet somehow it was all a mystery.

The heavens opened up, and it started to pour. As they got ready to leave, I gave them hugs and wished them safe travels, especially with the challenges of driving through storms.

“Oh, we don’t care. We’re not going that far. We’re going to Ho Chunk.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“A casino. It’s in Wisconsin.”

“Oh. Good,” I said.

When I returned home I decided to search for “Ho Chunk”. Turns out it is a casino and resort in the heart of the Wisconsin Dells. And in great dramatic irony, a resort in the Wisconsin Dells also happens to be where the climax of my screenplay takes place!

Ho Chunk. Who knew? 🙂

Listen to die zauberflote…

The best way for you to understand die zauberflote is, of course, to hear it. It has a peculiar energy and resonance. It causes some to lock their jaws and grit their teeth, and others to weep tears of joy. Those who hold a gentle heart are greatly blessed. Any ill-intent will be stopped in its tracks. Surely you will find that these characteristics are consistent with those Wolf described in his last major opera? And then you will perhaps come to understand that the opera is, in fact, a prophecy that is now being fulfilled…

Though locked out by a so-called ‘major’ orchestra, where the music director is refusing to hear me and grant me my credentials, even though I was enticed to practice regularly during the day on that darkened stage by the players I call “Monostatos”, while the exquisite sounds of die zauberflote soared throughout orchestra hall. At the insistence of Mr. Schrickel, I was even recorded one night in that empty hall. I ask you to listen and decide for yourself what to think…

Youtube
https://www.youtube.com/user/pamina58

Soundcloud

The ‘big secret’ that wasn’t….M4B*

If any of the countless people who have tried to destroy die zauberflote, and me in the process (Mr. Schrickel, for one), had bothered to ask me if I had any understanding that there was a good possibility I had been systematically poisoned as a child by my Mother so that she could ‘control’ me and, of course the position associated with being the heir of Wolf’s legacy, and try to use substance connected to die zauberflote for herself, I would have said, ‘well, of course I did.’

What sort of happy, carefree child, healthy as a horse, who finds themself suddenly sick as a dog, while their usually hostile Mother, suddenly switches into helpful-nurse mode — serving up ginger ale with shaved ice and saltines — wouldn’t, after a few such episodes start to ask, ‘what is really going on here?’

And so, yes, I was aware of what was taking place. Being able to get out of the situation in one piece was another matter entirely. To complicate matters even more, I was forced to attend and participate in a church I can, in retrospect, only call apostate. What I was apparently supposed to ‘learn’ by this false church is that God was unable to help me and did not favor me so would not help me either.

My hope was to escape to New York City and find help there. But rather than going to a conservatory, I ended up being kicked out of the Fairfield house by my Mother with $30 to my name (while she withheld my childhood savings account which had a significant amount of money) after I had managed to find a job outside of music in New York. She demanded I quit. I refused.

My Father almost died by his own hand in that house. He took rat poison in the basement. Did he realize what she was doing? Was he a part of it? I will never know for certain from their lips because neither of them talked, and they are both now gone.

The behavior of the one surviving birth family member, on the other hand, speaks volumes to me. The fact that I outlived our Mother seems to have stunned this person, who quickly moved to a small West-African country without extradition to the US (where, in the state of Connecticut, attempted murder has no statute of limitations) this person darts around the US during the summer, hiding at times even in the homes of some of my family members. This person claims to be a Christian surrounded with a ‘cloud of witnesses’. Needless to say, this is lawless behavior. Is this person,as a CT States Attorney cautioned me, looking for an accomplice to finish what my Mother began? I hope not, but I do not know. Will this person repent of their involvement in this murderous agenda? I certainly hope so…

I do know that I have been healed and delivered of all the damage inflicted on me in that house by the power and grace of the gift of Holy Spirit of the Lord Jesus Christ that is die zauberflote!

*M4B=Mozart For Believers

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