“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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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

 

 

 

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…

Minnegeddon, Mr. Vanska, Mr Schrickel and The Bridge…

On August 1, 2007 my grown children and I left the Twin Cities to perform for and participate in a birthday celebration the following day for my Mother in Washington, D.C.  As we practiced at a neighbor of my sister’s where we were staying (they had a piano) we were interrupted by very puzzling and horrifying news reports of a bridge collapse in the Twin Cities.  We rushed to a computer but the internet connection was extremely slow, and it was difficult to even get photos or information about the event.  We were stunned — this is the bridge we used regularly to go from my house to my childrens’ homes.  I had been on the bridge a day or so earlier.  I recalled that there was a lot of equipment in the middle of the bridge.  It seemed very strange at the time, but obviously, some repairs were needed.  But this was almost unthinkable — that this huge high bridge had just collapsed into the Mississippi River.  But there it was. http://minnesota.cbslocal.com/2014/08/01/friday-marks-7-years-since-i-35w-bridge-collapse/  We were able to confirm that family and friends were ok, but were severely shaken by the event and the fact that we were so far away and unable to be of help if needed.

The birthday celebration went well and we returned to Minnesota a few days later, early in the day.  I whispered a prayer that our landing pattern would be over the Minnesota River on the parallel runways at MSP, but no, we began our descent into the Twin Cities in a path that seemed to deliberately target the mangled bridge — and there it was, twisted and ripped apart, vehicles scattered like children’s blocks, in the river.  By then we knew of the lives lost, the many injured, the children on the yellow schoolbus who had been miraculously able to escape. The frustration and sadness were almost overwhelming.

A few years later Mr. Vanska, of the Minnesota Orchestra, who lived near the bridge, wrote a piece about it.  It was premiered by the Metropolitan Symphony Orchestra, under the baton of Mr. Schrickel: http://www.mprnews.org/story/2008/05/16/bridgemusic. The piece was extremely well-received and undoubtedly helped to cement Mr. Vanska’s connection to the people of Minnesota.

Move forward to the MO lockout, which, in addition to the horrendous need for dignity and fairness for the players, also may have had a tangential connection to me and my family.  So, in hopes of providing an explanation to my children about events that happened some time ago on the stage at Orchestra Hall, where I was encouraged to practice on the darkened stage by a clique of players who happened to be of ill-intent, I wrote to Mr. Vanska and asked to be heard.  I wrote that letter on August 1, 2013.  There was no reply.  A family member happened to have a connection to a colleague of Mr. Vanska’s.  I had asked for their help to make sure my letter got to him but they declined, saying they ‘didn’t want me to use their contacts.’  A few days later a freak storm hit our neighborhood, incurring over $4M worth of damages — another odd coincidence.

So here I am today, as what I call “Minnegeddon” plays itself out.  It is yet another August 1st.  We are preparing a video called “Out of Night and Fog”, and getting ready to begin our “Locked-Out” concert series — probably runouts to various places.  Who knows what twists and turns this coming year might take?  😉

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