“Minnegeddon”, and what it might mean to you…M4B*

As the locked-out Other Mozart I have a unique perspective. In fact, I sincerely doubt that anyone who knows me — be they friend or foe — would disagree with that statement. I see things, as it were, from inside an opera — things are either blissfully wonderful or truly horrible. I even saw what I call a ‘dark angel’ long ago, whom I came to believe goes out of its way to try to cause trouble for me and my family, so I have no doubt that there is an adversary I have to deal with every day…

If my thesis is correct — that Wolf was given an unusual gift of shalom — of the Holy Spirit — that those around him tried to steal from him and refused to confirm — then it follows logically that his death, whatever the technical cause, was an assassination. In fact, looking from my perspective, it seems a miracle that he was able to live as long as he did and succeed in giving us such a prodigious output of masterpieces that have held their own and are beloved over two hundred years later.

And, if it is the case that Wolf was assassinated because of a gift of the Holy Spirit, there is enormous support in the Word that God will not let that go unpunished. In fact, we learn from Annanias and Sephira, that anyone who deliberately tries to steal from God can drop dead on the spot. We can, in fact, see after Wolf’s death, that some rather strange things happened to those around him, including Salieri, who went mad, Puchberg, who died broke, and Constanze, who turned into a money-mongering hypocrite, pretending to further Wolf’s work but really just wanting to make money.

But I doubt that the saga ends there. I think, throughout history, that those who produce and perform Wolf’s music, while having contempt for him and his Gift (the movie “Amadeus” is a litany of that contempt, imo), run the same risk those who knew him did. They too are forever affected by his music, as this Gift is carried with it, wherever Wolf’s music goes.

And so, I believe, a Minnegeddon has begun. All that has been hidden about Wolf is coming out into the open. All the money stolen from this Gift is returning to God. And those who act in deliberate contempt can face dire consequences. In fact, from what I see, people stumble into what I call the Kingdom of the Night. It is a kingdom with a heirarchy. At its head, pretending to be a gentle Christ, is the dark angel I call The Night Magician. The actual heavens are closed, and these unfortunate souls seem stuck in this ultimately frightening place, until they come to the real God with real repentance. This kingdom has its own churches and schools, so many do not realize they have been deceived. The lucky ones are those who do not fit, and who are ‘chastised’. They may encounter imbalance in their life, they may even hear this dark angel attacking them. Such happened, in fact, to the player I call “Monostatos”, who kept hearing what they said was a ‘riding-crop voice’.

If I am correct, as events play out, everything having any connection to Wolf will, in fact, end up being turned inside-out. And, if you have anything to do with Wolf or his music, or me and die zauberflote, the same may be true for you…

*M4B=Mozart For Believers

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Minnegeddon Revisited…M4B*

Long ago, when I was a flute performance major at the UofM I said to a fellow classmate, Greg, “Some day there will be a Minnegeddon at Orchestra Hall.” I remember clearly saying that, but I don’t recall exactly why. By that time I had already come up against the dead-end that studying with their Principal Flute, Zeitlin, appeared to represent. He had, in fact, tried to convince me that I was ‘too old’ to play in an orchestra, so should become a university prof. But when I did that he went into a tizzy. “I can teach you everything you need to know!” he stuttered and spat at me. By that time I was thoroughly confused. And so, by the time I spoke to Greg it seemed logical to accept that there was probably some sort of conflict between me and the Minnesota Orchestra. Less logically, it seemed that Sid tried to blame me for the fact that the Orchestra had changed its name from the Minneapolis Symphony, which all the players seemed to prefer, to the wider-scoped MO.

Needless to say, I was, at that time blissfully naive. I had no real understanding of what I was involved with. It was just as well…

During the 2012 lockout of the MO players, the concept of Minnegeddon appeared to me again. This time, it took an interesting turn, for by now, the player I call “Monostatos” had insinuated themself into my family and then left, leaving upheaval everywhere. My days of having been enticed to practice on the stage at Orchestra Hall were over. But there was still this tangential connection. One of my family members had a connection to the MO through their work. In fact, at one point I wrote a letter to Mr. Vanska, describing my concerns. I asked this family member to help make sure this letter went directly to him. But they refused to lift a finger to help me, claiming, “I don’t want you to use my contacts.” Did the lockout of the MO players actually begin with the MO, in effect, locking me out? I began to wonder…

Then there was the Monday evening in October 2012 when hurricane Sandy abruptly changed course and headed for not only New York City, but my home town of Fairfield, Connecticut. I was in the indoor arena, taking a dressage lesson. I had climbed off of my horse, Miles, and was standing next to him, tightening his girth. I looked at my instructor, and said to her, “that’s odd. The only horse I was allowed to ride with any regularity when I was a child was named ‘Sandy’. Sandy was an albino Arab given to family friends who had a farm in Shelton, CT. He had blue eyes and pink skin. A pale horse indeed…

Was there some sort of connection between the weather and what I called ‘Minnegeddon’, I began to wonder? I had visited NYC and Connecticut recently for reunions. Odd. I recalled that I had also spent some time in San Francisco in 2011, near Nihonmachi, where I had once lived, and a few weeks later there was an earthquake that may have moved Japan 8 feet.

It was about that time that I began to ask a lot of questions. No, I can’t say I have any answers. But I thought I would share some of them with you. I believe there is a gift of the Holy Spirit in Mozart’s music, and also in die zauberflote. When Wolf was alive, it was also connected to him. I think there was a vortex of some sort around him. People could sense it. This caused the continual controversy around him. I think he was probably murdered in order to stop this energy from affecting those around him. What if this gift is also present in his music? What if, every time it is played, no matter by whom, that gift is shared? His music is played all around the world. What if it is affecting changes wherever it is played? What if it is even having an effect on the weather?

I think you get my drift. As an odd footnote, let me mention two more puzzling coincidences. The 2005 Hurricane Katrina devastated the New Orleans area. This area is significant to me because of its connection to the Garrison investigation and the assassination of JFK, which I also research. In fact, the evening before Katrina hit, my husband Donner and I were entertaining a venerable Warren Commission proponent in the research community, Prof. Ken Rahn. We had, in fact, earlier spent the day at the Minnesota State Fair, debating JFK issues. We had to agree-to-disagree on just about everything. It dawned on me that the nickname given to my daughter by her Dad was “Katrina, Katrina, ballerina.” Just this fall Hurricane Matthew devastated North Carolina. Oddly, a couple of weeks earlier I spent an afternoon at a Tomorrow’s World presentation with Rod McNair. They are based in Charlotte, NC. And oh, perhaps you can guess the name of my son-in-law?:-)

I know. Just odd coincidences. Nevertheless, perhaps all of us who are Believers can take a moment to humble ourselves before our Creator and ask for His guidance and wisdom for the times that may lie ahead…

*M4B=Mozart For Believers

P.S. Another odd coincidence — not long after I published this post a 7.4 earthquake hit in the same area of Japan as the one in 2011: http://www.reuters.com/article/us-japan-quake-idUSKBN13G2DC

Minnegeddon — New York City and the “Babylon” of Revelation 18 M4B*

 

Though born in Chicago, I grew up in Fairfield Connecticut, not far from New York City.  My parents were transplants from South Dakota, so, of course, everything about NYC was exciting to them.  Once we had settled in from the transfer from the Midwest (my father was a metallurgical engineer) we started taking day trips to New York.  One of my fondest memories is of going out to the Statue of Liberty on a foggy morning, watching the astoundingly beautiful monument emerge from the fog as we drew close to it, the golden flame in contrast to the gray drizzle. As I grew older, of course, I wanted to live there.  Who wouldn’t?  Fairfield was tiny, the area had nothing but a charming “seashore” (the Long Island Sound) strewn with seaweed and mussels.  I also sensed that New York City had a darkness, a mystery of sorts, that intrigued and puzzled me.

In early September 2001 I was giving flute lessons at a school for home-schooled students one day a week.  It was across the river from us, in the St. Paul, MN area.  As the school year had just started, there were new instructors.  One of them had a fairly simple last name, but I was unable to remember it correctly.  For some odd reason, I kept calling her Ms. “Huffman”.  I was puzzled, to say the least. Usually, I either remembered a person’s name exactly and forever, or not at all.  This was a bit different.

Every evening I read a chapter of the Bible before bed.  Sometimes there seems to be an inclination to focus on one chapter.  At that time, it was Revelation 18.  As I read through the terrifying prophecy of a city that would be sunk beneath the sea I wondered what it would feel like to see people covered in ashes, and asked myself what sort of disaster would take place in ‘just one hour’.  I tried to imagine how those with ships would stand far off and look at the smoke of this city’s burning.

On September 11 2001 I was sipping coffee, watching CNN, preparing for the day, when the news came in of a plane hitting one of the World Tower buildings.  It must have been a small plane, off its course, I remember thinking.  I don’t recall if anything to that effect was said by a newscaster. Then they showed footage of a gaping hole with smoke pouring out one side of the building.  I recalled for a moment something I had read about their construction long ago, when they were built.  The Twin Towers had ‘load-bearing walls’. One of those had been severely breached.  Below, the first responders seemed stunned and somehow terrified.  Although everyone was hoping for the best, the portents were there.

As news of the Pentagon hit came on the air I decided to still leave (I do not know why) for a dermatologist appointment not far away — it the city of Chanhassen, which is home, ironically, to a large golden pyramid-shaped temple connected to a group called Eckankar.  That temple had always given me an eery feeling; even more so that day.  When I went inside the doctor’s waiting room there was total silence — no TV, no radio.  I felt that I was in a time warp; but at least I was able to take a deep breath for a few moments.  After the routine appointment I went out to my car and turned on the radio and started up the car for the drive back home.  Stations were jumbled on top of each other.  The news seemed almost incomprehensible — both WTC towers had fallen, and a fourth plane had crashed into a field in Pennsylvania; ironically, not far from where I had once gone to school. I was unable to process all the new information, and began to become lightheaded.  I was on side roads by this time and drove carefully, ready to pull over if necessary.

When I returned home, of course, my husband confirmed my worst fears, and the news channels carried nothing else but this disaster.  Our borders had been breached for the first time since Pearl Harbor by, we were quickly told, a group of fanatics.  Two of them had trained at a place called “Huffman Aviation” in Florida.  When I heard that, I began to shake. I went back to Revelation 18.  The entire area near the WTC towers was covered in dust, and everyone looked like mummies.  The cameras panned on lower Manhattan from CNN in New Jersey, showing at a distance the smoke of its burning.   Every one of us watched, helplessly.  And for some reason I even now do not understand, I began to praise Gd — not for the attacks, but for preparing me to see that no matter what happened, His hand was also there in the darkness.  I think He held the buildings up as long as possible to get as many people as possible out.  I wondered if this tragedy would bring the city of New York to its knees in true repentance.

That was not to be — instead, they have rebuilt.

So could 9/11 have been a heads-up?  How about, also, Hurricane Sandy, which actually changed direction and headed directly toward New York City, creating terrible calamity?  Over 300 students at Fairfield University became homeless as a result of its assault on just that small section of the shoreline of the Long Island Sound.

New York City still stands.  But for how long?  Will it become true in reality at some point that “the sound of …flutists…shall not be heard in you anymore?”  Rev. 18:22(a)

*M4B=Mozart For Believers

 

 

 

 

Die Zauberflote…the gift…M4B*

I can tell you in all honesty that I feel i was born with a target on my back.  When I was quite little I saw a vision of a dreadful being — a dark angel that I came to call “Lermontov”, because its appearance resembled the character Lamar Waldron played in the movie “The Red Shoes”.  This being seemed to have control of my birth family, taunting them, leading them into darkness.  It was a frightening thing for me as a child to carry this burden of sensing that there seemed to be something supernatural and terribly evil coming at my loved ones and threatening our house.  As you might imagine, nobody would listen to me.  I was unable to articulate in a convincing manner the challenges we were facing.  It seemed that my existence was what Lermontov objected to.  I could not imagine why.  It all seemed very sinister and strange.  I never ‘saw’ Lermontov again, but could hear the energy connected with ‘him’.  It was and is a dark energy, dense and threatening.  As I would try to go to sleep at night there were times when it felt as though Lermontov was trying to literally shake our house apart.  This dark angel used everyone in my birth family to try to cause me pain and do me harm.  I do not blame them.  They were just vulnerable and used for its dark ends.

My parents told me that I began singing at about eight weeks of age.  When I was near a radio I would sing along with the songs or jingles that were being played and then sing them on my own.  I was playing the piano and performing as a singer and tap dancer at age 3.  I was en pointe at age 7.  I did not begin to play the flute until I was 9.  At that point, everything in our lives seemed to go into upheaval — my Mother became ill and had to have an operation, my Father’s closest sibling, his brother Everett, died by his own hand.  It felt like we were sliding into an abyss, but in reality we had entered a kind of vortex where there was both good and evil.  We just could not see that.

As Lermontov tried to use my family members against me I began to realize that there seemed to be something in the energy of the flute itself that was protecting me.  I would fall ill dramatically and without warning (later determined most likely to have been poisoning) and then would recover just as quickly. I would find myself in dangerous situations, such as skiing and sliding down an Alp off-piste, not realizing that could have caused an avalanche, only to find that everything was fine. With all the persecution that I dealt with in my birth family (and a lot of it not very well) I managed to persevere and grow.  I was able by some miracle to leave that house alive. My father was almost not as lucky, as he nearly died by his own hand a few months after I left.

I was so devastated at my Father’s situation that, although I had been a superficial Christian — my family was Methodist — that I decided to turn my back on Gd as I understood Him.  How could He allow this to happen to my Father?  Especially when it was my Mother who was cruel and vicious?  I decided to put the flute away, and until I became saved did not perform with it or even practice regularly.  My life turned upside down and became quite convoluted.  I married a man who had great energy and abilities, but also suffered from the demons connected with alcohol, so the challenges were significant. But Gd spoke to me in the birth of our first child, who was the most miraculous individual I had ever known.  All the pain and suffering I felt I had endured from my birth family melted away.  Somehow, it had all been related — it was certainly all worth it.  I came to know the Lrd Jesus Christ personally, and was delighted to discover that I was pregnant again.  Our boys were only 14 months apart.  One born in San Francisco, and one in Boston.  We moved to Minnesota and our daughter was born there.  The flute guided us all, even through the tumult of treatment, and, ultimately divorce and distance.

Next came our bout with the clique I call “Monostatos” and their Orchestra.  Every avenue of success and substance was blocked off for us.  They took food out of the mouths of my children.  My birth family declined to help us.  How was I to raise three children alone and provide for them while what I considered my main avenues of supply, flute performing and the book I was writing about us, were being blocked, ridiculed, and slandered at every turn?  They had locked out Mozart.  They treated me as though I was already dead and just waited for something terrible to happen to me.

Nonetheless, the energy of the flute kept the vortex churning. Locked out of performing as a musician, I found I had a talent for making computers break down.  I tried to turn that into a living.  I met a man there who was also saved, and who helped me become grounded in the Word.  He became and is my longest best friend. He had also been caused to stumble and had been slandered.  Gd supported him and used everything for good.  I met my wonderful husband, who too came out of the vortex having been blocked and caused to stumble at every turn, perhaps due to the same mechinations of this dark angel Lermontov.

Then came an astounding series of events that may or may not have had anything to do with us and die zauberflote.  9/11 devasted my husband’s home town of New York City, where I had also lived for four years after growing up in nearby Fairfield, Connecticut. My Mother at that time lived not far from there, in Flemington, New Jersey.  My sister and her husband lived in DC. Then, my Mother moved to a retirement community in DC. The day all of us flew to DC to celebrate her birthday and perform and her party the I-35 Bridge came down. We used that bridge regularly as my children and their families live on the east side of the metro, and we live on the west.  My Mother then passed away, and all our family dynamics went into upheaval again.  My sister left to teach in Africa.  One child stepped away from the rest of the family.  At the stroke of midnight of the day following anniversary of the first performance of the opera Die Zauberflote in Vienna in 1791 the Minnesota Orchestra players were locked out.  October 22 of 2012 my hometown, as well as the entire NYC metro was devastated by Hurricane Sandy.  A few weeks later, Newtown, which I had visited recently for high school reunions, endured the terrible shooting at Sandy Hook.  Sensing that there might be a connection to the upheaval at the Minnesota Orchestra connected to their, in effect, through “Monostatos”, locking me out first, long ago, I wrote to Mr. Henson, then Mr. Sprenger, and Mr. Vanska.  I asked for their help and asked for die zauberflote to be heard on the darkened stage where I had once been encouraged to practice.  I was not even granted the courtesy of a reply.

But the energy of the flute has kept churning.  We are in the center of the vortex, and we are safe from this dark angel.  We are getting ready to begin our Locked-Out series of concerts.  We are preparing our conception video for Piper to the Alternative called “Out of Night and Fog”.  The main character of the video is, in fact the vortex.  I have been granted my childhood dream — a wonderful dark horse i nicknamed “Miles”.  His sassy silliness and warmth have helped me endure the suffering and trauma resulting from the realization that even my precious children had been used as a “hook of Lermontov” to cause me to lose heart and either die or take my own life. Exhausted beyond comprehension, I have let my horse be my strength, and let the horse be my speed.  The Holy Spirit in this gift of die zauberflote refreshes me and keeps me moving forward, even with a target on my back that Lermontov keeps trying to hit.

And so I say to you with all authority of my experience, that Jesus Christ and the kingdom of Gd are real, that He triumphed over all evil on the cross, and that He goes to the uttermost to save us, and to make intercession for us (Hebrews 4:25).  I can say this with the knowledge of having tried and failed so many times that His presence in this gift of die zauberflote has lifted me up, righted me, and set me where I need to be.  This is a gift of shalom.  I hope you will treasure it as I do.  It will do the same for you.

*M4B=Mozart for Believers…

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