My
old friend, J, storyteller, copper-caster, plumber, traveler, told his stories
with forethought and discretion. The story you got to hear at his table with
its Bordeaux and goat cheese had a connection to the conversation of the
moment. As his listener you also had to have gained his confidence; not
everyone was allowed to hear each and every tale.
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Wednesday, July 31, 2013
Tuesday, July 30, 2013
Madelaine cakes American style by John von Daler
Jolting
memories by tasting, Marcel Proust's domain if you will, came knocking on my
mental door this morning. Unlike Proust, though, I remembered the food of my
childhood - and that awakened memories, well, of more food. I remembered a Mexican
restaurant close by a park in Tulsa, Oklahoma, a place we could afford - a
place I loved. I think it was called "Little Mexico".
Monday, July 29, 2013
Lawlessness and Childhood by John von Daler
I've
always liked cars. Even when I was four years old I stood up beside my mother
as she drove our 1946 Buick. It was my job to listen for the tones in the motor
and then with a little help from my perfect pitch to shift the gears at exactly
the right time.
Sunday, July 28, 2013
A jogging admonition by John von Daler
I
was out jogging this morning. My same route as always: up the broad, stately
Frederiksberg Allé to Frederiksberg Gardens, around the little lake, across a
couple of bridges and home.
Saturday, July 27, 2013
#Oklahoma Odyssey by John von Daler
When
I was a child in Oklahoma, my great aunt Gertrude would visit us. She was about
ninety, I guess. Ninety age-wise, but about thirty in spirit.
Friday, July 26, 2013
Zounds! by John von Daler
I
sometimes write music for theater productions: songs, dances, background
sounds. At one point in my career I wanted to be able to recreate the sounds of
everyday life. To help me on my way I bought the Danish National Radio's
comprehensive #sound archive.
Thursday, July 25, 2013
#Høst, Oz, Smoke and Bornholm by John von Daler
In
Paul Auster's movie "Smoke" Harvey Keitel takes a picture every
morning of his own tobacco store. He does this once a day for many years. The
Danish painter, Oluf Høst, in much the same way painted many pictures of his
own farm from about the same angle but in different seasons and atmospheres.
These pictures are part of the collection that made him world famous.
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
#Behaviorism and Scrutiny by John von Daler
Recently
I sat talking with a number of friends who, unlike me, know something about
psychology and the various schools of thought connected to it. In connection
with another subject someone mentioned in passing that Behaviorism is dead. Now
for me that is the intellectual equivalent of saying that Donald Duck has gone
on to greener ponds, if I may coin a phrase.
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Master Builder Philip #Roth by John von Daler
Someone
asked me recently what had been so great about Philip Roth teaching literature.
The course was called Creative Writing, but I think what we actually learned
was how to read.
Monday, July 22, 2013
Bubble Trouble by John von Daler
We
did not notice it happening, but our society switched over a period of about
seventy years from words to pictures. We do not listen any more; we see, even
when we use words. Some places of work have even asked their employees to
refrain from talking and to express themselves with speech scrolls.
Sunday, July 21, 2013
The Soundscapes of #Tanzania by John von Daler
We
were touring Tanzania, playing concerts for the good Danes who give a helping
hand there. In Arusha the hotel restaurant was to be our auditorium. Kilimanjaro
loomed in the distance, too big for our horizon.
Saturday, July 20, 2013
#Radio Days in the Tabula Rasa by John von Daler
You
remember it, the little brown box with brassy ornamentation, the
vanilla-colored buttons, the black knobs, the lighted glass panel showing great
cities of the world all in green: Singapore, Tallinn, Johannesburg. You know,
the radio.
Friday, July 19, 2013
#Bellmann and Bacchanalia by John von Daler
We
were in Sweden putting on our little play about the great Swedish poet, Nils
Ferlin. It was summer and Stockholm shone with water, sun and the Swedes
themselves, tall and blond and dignified.
Thursday, July 18, 2013
Wincing in #Ravenna by John von Daler
I'm
too fussy. My sense of order just does not allow much leeway for Good and Evil
to occupy adjacent and nonchalant places on life's little
merry-go-round.
Wednesday, July 17, 2013
Eye to eye by John von Daler
The
young Danes, husband and wife, had just moved to the #Tanzanian village. The
idea was to help with things like water projects and to live simply, not exactly
like the villagers, but like Danes living simply.
Tuesday, July 16, 2013
Comedy and Tragedy in #Paxos by John von Daler
Karen
Blixen once wrote that understanding only part of a story was not such a bad thing.
I suppose she meant the reader can invent, imagine, create.
Wednesday, July 3, 2013
#Tanzanian Mosaic by John von Daler
Dar
es Salaam. The smell of muggy money. How can a city with so much poverty smell
of money?
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
Heresy and Inebriation by John von Daler
If
you visit a little German town called Müllheim close to the French border, a
picturesque village with winding streets and several churches, and you happen
to wander into the little Markgräfler museum, then have a look at the two paintings
on each side of the middle door on the second floor. One painting depicts a
local innkeeper from the 18th century and the other is his father-in-law, my
ancestor, Philipp Jacob Daler, born at the end of the seventeenth century.
Monday, July 1, 2013
Relativity by John von Daler
In
the early 1970's I played a charity concert at the Danish Refugee Council,
violin sonatas with a pianist friend. I was still an amateur musician and I
studied literature at the university. My wife worked three days a week as a
physical therapist. We were not wealthy, but I wanted to help these troubled
people pass the time. One of them was a little, dark man who had escaped from
Poland.
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