Somebody (or bodies) has been throwing money at the Minnesota Orchestra. They have made repeated trips to Europe in the last ten years; each time, it is claimed the trip is paid for by an ‘anonymous donor’. Each trip costs at least a million dollars, so these donors must have much more than that available to them. This time it is the Proms in the UK; didn’t they do the same thing last year with the same caveat? How ironic.
Do they think that if the MO is thrown up against the wall of greatness enough times, some of it will stick? Whomever is coming up with all this money is wasting their time as well — they should have first paid the 50 dollars, or whatever it would take, to have their name changed. They used to be called the Minneapolis Symphony; but those glorious smalltown days are over. They insisted on having a wider scope, a greater message to deliver — so they are stuck with the inglorious tag of Minnesota — or Monostatos — One State. They are dragging themselves down with chains of their own making, oblivious to it all. Hilarious.
August 14, 2021
Hint: They’re still at it, only on a tad smaller scale. And, yes, when I was naively studying flute with Sid Zeitlin, the MO’s Principal Flute, he spent the better part of a lesson chastising me for over the MO’s name change. At the time, it made no sense whatsoever…
But now, I think this may be Minnegeddon, where the truth of what happened to Wolfgang Mozart is revealed…and the Minnesota Orchestra and their standing-bass player William Schrickel have a part in that…
Such was my life after being locked out by the Minnesota Orchestra bass player I call “Monostatos” and his cohorts. I performed concert after concert to showcase the lovely Zauberflote, but when I put up posters that included my phone number to request tickets, I received only hundreds of hang-up calls. This was incredibly distressing to us. I was especially concerned about the effect on my children.
None of them attended, of course. They could have lifted a finger to help, but did not…
Such was our life in those days. I remember feeling so jealous of our neighbors, who were lovely people who had escaped from Iran. The air around our townhomes was always full of rich perfumes and the smell of fresh fruit. They juiced melons and berries and their home overflowed with nurishment. I wished that I could have showered my lovely children with the same sort of excess.
But instead, after giving a series of concerts at the Art Room of the Hennepin Avenue Methodist Church, payments for those concerts forced me to by.a bag of potatoes, which at least I could afford. We ate potatoes in every form for a month. I called it “Potato January”. We still talk ruefully of those days…
During the approximately 666 days that my children and I were pretty much held hostage by this man there were a number of experiences that, at that time, did not make much sense. Hindsight being what it is, however, I now feel I have some sense of perspective.
At the same time Mr. Schrickel was enticing me to practice on the stage at Orchestra Hall with the Zauberflote (who could resist) there were also odd things going on behind the scenes. For one, it seemed we usually ended up in some sort of heated dispute over something or other after the practice sessions. This was all supposed to be my fault. This happened so frequently I began to wonder if there was some sort of agenda. Now that has become obvious. Creating trauma is how the Zauberflote was thought to be vampirized, to create, in effect, blood money for the attacker. (I think Wolf was treated this way too, and for just this reason…)
But another strange theme began to surface. I was being blamed for not making money. Rather than helping to establish my credentials on the world stage, he was making demands that I earn money from sources outside the world of music. Frantically, I began to look for temporary work. I did not understand what was happening. One of my first jobs was scrubbing floors at Abbot-Northwestern Hospital. He seemed pleased by that, and one morning held my hands, looking at them as though they were prized possessions. When I was offered a permanent job, I felt validated to know I had done my best. He seemed puzzled by that. Uncomfortable somehow. I graciously declined, and went on to other opportunities…
Following the recent Shadow Kingdom show, it appears Bob Dylan may be placing himself as part of the cadre Monostatos, from the opera The Magic Flute. The other member is bass player Bill Schrickel of the Minnesota Orchestra. It looks like they represent the wicked servant in the temple of Sarastro who tries to terrify Pamina. When Sarastro understands what they are doing, he kicks them out of the temple.
Whatever is going on, their actions are coming to light. If this does prove to be the case, might we then have to respectfully ask how it correlates that Dylan was said to ‘go back to his Jewish roots’ following his conversion to Christianity, when the law of Deuteronomy and Leviticus is at the very heart of the Jewish faith?
One might think that the pope, of all people, would not have stopped with conferring just a worldly honor on Mozart, but would have gone on to acknowledge that there was yet another gift that deserved to be validated, even though it was ephemeral. It is the gift of perfection that is an integral part of everything that Mozart wrote. It is a gift of shalom granted to no other musician before him. Everyone sensed it. It had already created tumult even in the Italian musical community, where Mozart was accused of allowing his father to write an opera for him.
But the pope said nothing about this divine distinction. As a result, I believe, Mozart did not fully understand how different he was until much later in his life, when he realized that he was surrounded by a vortex of evil — those close to him who had agreed upon his death.
And it was because of this gift that Mozart was killed. And this assassination — this Murder Most Foul — has remained a closely-guarded secret through the years. Until now.
Ironically, with the onset of this terrible pandemic, and the physical distancing that everyone is keeping, we may all have a much better idea about what Mozart’s life was really like.
And, at last, the truth about what really happened to Mozart is becoming evident to everyone.
I call this Minnegeddon…
Update, February 22, 2021
We are coming through a year of pandemic. Ironically, it is called “Corona”. I say ‘ironically’ because when I was growing up with my birth family who were, to say the least, treating the Zauberflote with a lack of respect, my father insisted that I take a high school typing class twice, because I only scored 95 words per minute the first time. That was on a Corona typewriter.
Orchestra Hall is still dark. In fact, concert venues in most places are as well. Is the truth about what really happened to Wolfgang Mozart coming to light — in spite if the deadly attempts of the ‘insiders’ who are trying to keep it secret? Will the Zauberflote be heard once more on the stage at Orchestra Hall — but this time, in the light? Will those who have been attempting to silence it be unmasked?
When my Father wanted the truth about something he would say ‘let’s talk turkey’. Well, it is ironic that it is at Thanksgiving time of year when things are starting to fall into place about what has been going around me and one of my family members — in secret, in a deadly conspiracy of silence. In fact, the knives have been out for us, but we were apparently not supposed to know it.
There are those who have a connection to us who have attempted to, and in some cases, succeeded, in causing us bodily harm through the ingestion of toxic substances of some sort without our permission or consent. This has not gone unnoticed, unobserved or undocumented. However, those who have been knowingly involved appear to think they are above the law — or that those who could help us will remain silent. Let me simply say that is not the case. In fact, victim reports are being filed in all the right places.
God is in charge, and we trust Him to be our Vindicator in this quest for justice.
I believe Wolfgang Mozart, too, was surrounded by a Vortex of the Evil Eye — those close to him who agreed to his assassination. Wolf did not survive. But his Zauberflote is bringing us through and getting the truth out.
Will Orchestra Hall go dark for good this time?
Update…November 24, 2020
As the entire world reels in the waves of devastation of CV-19 we wonder what happened to our old lives, and what, if anything, will carry over into our new reality. In fact, it seems that these waves of sludge are getting the truth out about what actually happened to Wolfgang Mozart and why.
My family and I are a part of this. So, it seems, is Bob Dylan, who has been painting our story for the world to see — among the many things he has accomplished. Dylan is a Mason, and so was Mozart, so it is understandable that this is how all that has been concealed for almost 300 years is being blasted out. However, the cost is astronomical, to our countries and to us personally. Many of our loved ones are in. harm’s way simply by going to work.
In addition to Tom Hulce’s crazy-sounding giggle as he played Mozart in the movie “Amadeus”, we experience it yet again as the credits roll. Cute, we might be tempted to think. It is certainly consistent with the characaturish treatment of Mozart during the movie, which happens to slander just about everything about him — except his music.
But, if there really is an occult secret being held by ‘insiders’ about what really happened to Mozart and how he actually died, and that secret has an effect on us even today, could this ‘last laugh’ actually signal something else?
The movie “Amadeus” was created by those who consider themselves insiders in the saga of Mozart. It is supposed to give the general public the impression that they too can participate in this ‘secret knowledge’.
But have the conspirators, instead, created a big problem for themselves? If those who consider themselves ‘insiders’ start to take on the characteristics of the “Amadeus” version of Mozart — even perhaps including the crazy laugh — have they not given themselves away?
And, if that is the case, does not Mozart really have the last laugh?
Who could have imagined what has taken place this year?
A Corona virus — same name as the typewriters of old. My birth father forced me to take typing twice on those old things, because the first time I could only type 95 words per minute! The same kind of typewriter Bob Dylan used to create his mournful songs, many still sung to this day. Odd coincidence.
Social-distancing? Just the same sort of thing that became as habitual as possible for Wolfgang Mozart in his daily life as he was, I believe, being pursued by those attempting to cause him bodily harm at a close distance.
Masks — don’t we all wear them? When they are torn off, what do they reveal? Our pride, anger, disrespect? Those close to Wolf wore masks and pretended to be his friend, when they had nothing but ill intent.
Bob Dylan even produced a movie, if you can call it that, called Masked and Anonymous. It takes place in a country in revolution, where the stores are boarded up and lawlessness seems to abound. I just took a day trip to downtown Minneapolis and found a similar scenario, although, in this day, there was only an uneasy quiet. Odd coincidence?
Once a pope gave Mozart a special honor, without bothering to acknowledge the full nature of his gifts. Today a pope stands in an empty sanctuary celebrating Christmas mass. Irony.
So as the truth finally emerges about what actually happened to Wolfgang Mozart long ago, we see in our daily lives the sludge of the lies that have been told about this all along. We wait to see if our president will support the efforts of our lawmakers to provide some additional relief to the citizens of this country.
Are we now living as Mozart did?
Does Mozart have the last laugh yet again?
Update June 17, 2021
Well, if it seemed things couldn’t get any more weird, they just did. After analyzing one of Dylan’s songs in R+RW, it began to dawn on me that he might be taking personal jabs at me…I know, that sounds ridiculous…
However, Dylan did contact me on Twitter just days before releasing R+RW on my birthday, May 8…
So it was not outside the realm of possibility in this alternative reality I seemed to have been transported into — through no intent of my own — that he might have written a song about a family member. After all, the impression I received when he contacted me was that he was literally dripping with sarcasm…
And so, my analysis of My Own Version of You led me to open yet another Pandora’s box…
The only person still on this planet who would know when Richard and I were married is my sister, Angela. Had Dylan been getting information about me behind my back from my birth family? Outrageous, I thought. Why? To victimize me? To track me? I had no idea.
But a lot of things in my birth family didn’t make sense in a ‘normal’ way. There were many occasions when things seemed to be ‘scripted’. It was as though my parents were taking orders from somebody else. They would suddenly switch gears without any explanation. Things didn’t make sense.
Then, something else dawned on me. The nightingale theme that runs through his key songs — those are the songs that seem to be aimed at the insiders — was he giving them ‘realtime’ information about the Zauberflote and me?
How about Jokerman?
Jokerman dance to the nightingale tune…
Could he possibly be telling his audience about what happened to me in the Fairfield house?
While my family has been in lockstep mocking and ridiculing me whenever I try to talk about my persecution at the hands of my birth family, was a complete stranger screaming and yelling about it to the world?
And then it all became even worse…
Where did this information come from? First hand, from family members, or through a pilfered copy of my manuscript Titan, from Piper to the Alternative, which talks about Pamina Philemela (nightingale) Payne being brutally treated by her mother while her father did nothing and her sister gloated?
I typed the early drafts on a Corona typewriter…
And yes, now a door has opened — into the vortex, into an abyss…and everything is changed.
This time around, however, Dylan has likely heard the Zauberflote. I gave him the link to my video Out of Night and Fog when he contacted me…
So yes, once again, I think we can say that Mozart is having the last laugh…
Caused to ingest toxic substances without one’s knowledge or permission, pilfered intellectual property, targeted…hmmmm…
I think this is Minnegeddon — where everyone can see how Mozart is really treated…
For the first time in almost 200 years the sound of new Mozart — his Zauberflote — was heard on the stage at Orchestra Hall. But it was not heard during a concert, nor was it given a proper introduction. Instead, the man I call “Monostatos” –a bass player –enticed me with the Zauberflote to ‘practice’ on the darkened stage. This priceless sound was heard throughout the building because the sound system was connected to the stage.
And yes, during this time Monostatos was even causing me bodily harm.
Week after week, during the 666 days of our captivity at the hands of Monostatos, I played from the flute and violin repertoire on that darkened stage. To what end? Colleagues of Monostatos literally crawled out of the woodwork, behaving very strangely, to say the least. Everyone in the orchestra knew what was happening. The concertmaster at the time called us “Beauty and the Beast.” But have you heard the slightest bit of excitement about these unusual circumstances? No. The tiniest shred of concern for the panic and trauma my children and I were subjected to? Nothing. Instead, Monostatos and his cadre have done everything in their power to keep all this secret while slandering my credibility.
During the 2012 lockout of the Minnesota Orchestra players, I began to wonder if their being locked out had any connection to their earlier ‘lockout’ of me and the Zauberflote. So I wrote to Mr. Vanska and explained my situation. I pleaded for the Zauberflote to be heard again on that same stage. I did everything I could think of to bring the Zauberflote to the attention of the Minnesota Orchestra Board as well. I felt that this would be an opportunity to resolve both their issues and mine.
But, unfortunately, that did not happen. To this day, those letters have, in fact, gone unanswered…
Well, here we have another lockout — Orchestra Hall is dark once again, and has been since March. We are approaching the day — December 21 — when Monostatos legally became a part of my family. It is also his birthday. Has he, or anyone else, come forward to tell the citizens of this great state the truth of what has been going on? Monostatos and the Minnesota Orchestra have no problem taking funds from public coffers to support them and their projects, and yet they seem equally comfortable concealing the truth of this situation.
I can only hope that the uncommon ‘common people’ — the salt of the earth — will come forward to help this situation come to light.
After Monostatos left my children and me, after having held us hostage for about 666 days, I decided that despite the threats to my life and slander of my character I would not be silenced. And so, with the resources at my disposal — which were limited by having been musically ‘locked out’ by Monostatos and his cohorts at the Minnesota Orchestra — I booked the Art Room at the Hennepin Avenue Methodist Church for an all-Mozart concert. The photo for the posters was taken by one of their own. A poster hung in the stage entry of Orchestra Hall. It included a phone number to request tickets. My answering machine took quite a beating, as tens, if not hundreds of hang-up calls were made every night from that point on. I figured Monostatos may have had something to do with that, and did my best to brush it off.
I had found a very good accompanist to work with. That was surprising, as most pianists seemed to have only a limited understanding of how to perform Mozart. I was pleased and relieved — something good will come of this, I thought. Despite the answering machine omen, that is…
Everything was going beautifully. I gave a pre-concert at the Minneapolis Public Library during lunchtime a few days earlier, that was very well received. I had learned by then to trust die zauberflote — and also to expect a lot of twists and turns. Little did I know what lay ahead…
The morning of that June 14th was just gorgeous. It was becoming a bit humid, but that was to be expected at this time of year. I gave my darling children, who would be coming with me, a brief lecture on not running around and making noise while I was performing. I naively thought that would be the worst of my concerns.
Then the weather began to change. A friend called to tell me that it looked like there was a tornado atop the IDS building in downtown Minneapolis. Another friend called to say they would not be able to make the concert because a large tree had fallen across their driveway in the Kenwood area. I quickly assessed our situation — the weather was still good in Hopkins, so we packed up to head downtown. Then the accompanist called to say that a tornado had touched down on his apartment building and he was suffering a panic attack. Also, his ride had canceled due to the weather. I asked if he could take a bus, but he refused. I called another friend who lived nearby and they offered to give him a ride. Other friends called to let me know that they were stuck in the Har Mar mall, where another tornado had hit, and would not be able to attend.
Though tempted to give up in anguish at the sudden and frightening turn of events, I headed downtown with my children and flute. The Art Room was humid. As I warmed up, sweat was dripping down my chin, and my fingers were sliding on the keys. Great! I thought. What next?
But gradually people trickled in. Ashen, my accompanist finally arrived, looking like he had seen a ghost. The skies had settled. The flurry of tornadoes had stopped. My children were playing quietly, as a neighbor kept an eye on them.
And then the concert flew by. Literally, lifted on wings. The culminating piece was Wolf’s D Major Flute Concerto. The extraordinary shalom of die zauberflote was heard throughout the room, to delighted and at times even rapturous applause — as much for my gifted accompanist as for me…
Once again, the darkness had lost…and all was well…and die zauberflote had been taken out of the night of the darkened stage at Orchestra Hall into the light of day, and of the common people, the salt of the earth…
Almost from the moment of its premiere the public was talking about the occult significance of Wolfgang Mozart’s last major opera, The Magic Flute. There was so much to consider — after all, it was full of Masonic symbols, and, despite the fact that it was a jocular singspiel, it held a pregnant sense of awe — of things not explained. To make things even more convincing, Mozart himself died a few weeks later. Was there a connection? Was Mozart poisoned? What happened? Everyone wanted to know. Or was it just the hand of fate? Some asked. Perhaps writing the Requiem under someone else’s name was what did him in? Others questioned.
Well, for one reason or another, the mystery has continued to this day. And for good reason. What if the opera were, in fact, a prophecy that included Wolf himself? What if that prophecy was to come to life over 200 years later?
Unthinkable! said many. Impossible, said others. Keep the lid on it! said the assassins…no one must know!
However, if this were to be the case, let me provide some details that are implied in the opera. I don’t ask anyone to believe what I say, simply to test my words. Just for the moment take as an hypothesis that the opera being prophecy is simply a possibility — extraordinary though that might be.
Here might be a few insights —
Pamina’s father dies after presenting her with the magic flute. Her Mother, the Queen of the Night, flies into a rage as she feels her power is threatened by her daughter’s having the flute. Sarastro, Pamina’s step-father, steps in and kidnaps Pamina to keep her out of harm’s way, but says nothing to Pamina, who is confused and frightened. Sarastro happens to be Wernher von Braun, with whom Pamina and her family have a connection. Sarastro’s temple of Isis and Osiris is the occult secrets of those committed in the US and Russia to going to the Moon and Mars. It has, in fact, a number of different locations. Pamina is brought to a place of relative safety, in the frozen tundra of the Northlands…
The three children are Pamina’s children. They are an even greater threat to her Mother, who comes after them and tries to bewitch them and steal them from Pamina, who is horrified. The Queen of the Night holds the children ransom, creating even more terror. To make matters even more sinister, the Queen has a ‘spare’, so to speak, in Pamina’s sister, Starla, (the so-called ‘other Queen’) who assists her Mother in stealth to try to turn the children against Pamina. And, last-but-certainly not least — add to that the possibility that Monostatos, who happens to be a bass player in an orchestra of false servants in Minnesota, has also attempted, frantically and viciously, to insinuate himself into the lives of Pamina and her children, in order to help the Queen. He tries to cause Pamina bodily harm and slanders her to his colleagues. She continues on, following the direction of the Zauberflote, which is always changing, and is always charming.
Pamina has had glimpses of Tamino, but nothing more, except his picture. When she sings her desperate aria “Ach, ich ful’s”…she feels she has lost everything. As the children are being deceived by the Queen, even they cannot help her.
And yet, Pamina perseveres, in love and in faith…with the help of her longest best-friend, Papageno. Papageno gives Pamina words of hope and faith at just the right moments…and together they keep moving forward…
Update 12.24.20 (M4B*)
I went to Orchestra Hall this week, on December 21st, in fact. That was also the night of the great “Christmas Star”. That day is significant to me because it is the birthday of Monostatos, who affected our lives so profoundly, and it is also the day we were married, long ago. (That lasted 666 days.) I decided to lay hands on the doors of Orchestra Hall and rebuke the enemy in the Name of Yeshua in order to demolish all of the strongholds connected with Monostatos persecuting me on that darkened stage because of the Zauberflote.
It was a cloudy day, cold, with a bitter wind. I had invited Papageno to go with me, but he had declined. Once I reached the Nicollet Mall I was relieved that he had done so, for what I was witnessing was unexpected and almost overwhelming. The mall stores are basically shuttered. The only exception is Target. There are no Christmas lights. There are no lights at all. It is desolate. Dystopian. Like Blade Runner. Orchestra Hall had stacks of cardboard boxes in its lobby. There are signs on the pavement reminding everyone to stand six feet apart. WCCO is shuttered. They don’t show you that on the evening news. There were no crowds. Just people milling and talking, all carrying bags of some sort. Acrid cigarette smoke. A woman shouting into her phone. Stragglers walking aimlessly.
Minnegeddon in Minneapolis, I thought. What else could I call it?
I then went over to Monostatos’ apartment building and laid hands on the door there and rebuked the enemy again. Hopefully, this nightmare involving him and the Minnesota Orchestra will now come to an end.
Is this what happens when you lock out Mozart?
During the 2012 lockout of the Minnesota Orchestra players I asked a family member who knew Mr. Vanska’s assistant for help getting to Mr. Vanska, to ask to play the Zauberflote for him. She replied that she ‘didn’t want me to use her contacts.’ I was saddened by this, as the letter I had written to Mr. Vanska had gone unanswered, and I did not even know for certain if he had received it. But now I could see that it wasn’t enough. A slap on the wrist for Monostatos was not in everyone’s highest good.
But this is.
They are locked out yet again. Orchestra Hall is dark yet again. But this time I don’t think the lights will go back on until we all have some answers.