Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Excess
Our hostess gave us a hug and a little kiss goodbye this morning as we left the White House, on the last leg of our journey to Maine. We’ve been staying here the last 4 days to hear our daughter Leah’s chamber music and solo recitals at SUNY Stony Brook. The White House is a high-end B&B on Long Island, and includes a room with remotely-operated fireplace, a Jacuzzi so large we could swim laps in it, and a shower for two with no less than 6 thermostat-controlled nozzles. Add to that luxury the exquisitely Christmas-decorated lounge and common rooms, and the gourmet breakfasts with wonderful coffee and the New York Times and Wall Street Journal, and we definitely are not in Kansas anymore..
Long Island could be called the land of Beemers, Benz’s and Bentleys. This densely populated chunk of sand sticking into the Atlantic is so palpably rich you could feel the hum of money while driving down the streets.
My senses were overwhelmed. Everywhere we saw huge houses; some overlooking the Sound can only be described as palatial. We took Leah out to one of her favorite restaurant, the Cheesecake Factory. The menu is so huge it came in a spiral bound notebook of 20 pages. The patrons were all huge (as in obese) and it’s easy to understand why. A simple salad plate was the
size of the platter I used to carve our Thanksgiving turkey. Vicki mentally counted the calories in the 3 courses ordered by the table next to us, and figured it was over 3000 calories for the meal. Later, Leah dragged us into Macy’s and the mall, looking for sparkly earrings. The place was packed with shoppers, even at 9 PM, a cacophony of voices, carols and products competing for our dollars. A great many of the stores, such as Sharper Image, or Swarovski Crystal specialize in only selling things nobody really needs.
We spent some of our days here in “support role” for Leah as she prepared for her performances. This included tidying and dusting her apartment, throwing her laundry in with ours at the local Laundromat, and
grocery shopping. After Woolies in Derby, we are overwhelmed with the mile-long produce aisles (not to mention shopping carts that have wheels that don’t wobble). There are so many choices; our brains are exhausted by the time we reach the checkout lines.
The flip side of all this wealth is that there is abundant tax money for services. Americans make the most noise of any people on Earth about hating their governments, particularly for “excessive taxes”. But driving around the Eastern U.S., we’ve noted the many services tax dollars provide, which are underappreciated. The Interstates are smooth, sanded, and well-maintained. The Pennsylvania Turnpike had emergency call boxes every mile. In Ohio we valued the clean rest stops, attended by mentally-handicapped people who were clearly proud of their work and their ability to be productive. When traveling, we could easily get reliable weather forecasts, and feel secure knowing that our flights were routed by rested, well-monitored air traffic controllers. While we are careful not to attract a speeding ticket from the police, it’s nice to know police, and fire and ambulance are immediately nearby if needed. New York and Long Island have the most amazing infrastructure of any place on the planet, with so many bridges, railways and buildings. And there is consumer protection, so that a building in the Bronx lacking heat is a major news story, attracting help for the poor tenants from government agencies that fix the problem while tracking down the slumlord. Finally, there is the clean, crisp SUNY Stony Brook campus, its Medical Center towering above the trees, a center for learning and culture.
Leah played her pieces with energy and intensity, and we were very proud of the progress she has made in the year since we last heard her play. In the past she and her sister and I have discussed her art and its place in the world. This week’s concerts, and some conversations we had about her new role as a violin teacher fro small children, led me to reflect on her training. Leah’s teacher in High School, Doris Preucil, had a “violin genealogy” on the wall of her studio. Doris’ teacher was at a terminal branch on the tree, which could be traced back, student to teacher for over 300 years.
Violin performance is not a skill that can be learned from a book or watching a video. It is an oral and physical history that must be passed from master to student over long training and with practice. I have seen the havoc wreaked on Aboriginal culture by the removal of just one generation. The truth is that the performing arts of Western civilization are also just as fragile. Remove one generation, and music and dance would never recover.
Compared to fundamental utilitarian vocations, such as medicine or civil engineering, some people might be tempted to criticize the arts as “non-productive” or non-essential to society. But while sewers are critical, and healthcare may relieve suffering, how do we interpret and find meaning in our lives without the arts and our culture? Surely societies that support so many excesses, should find some resources to support the arts, which nuture our spirits.
Long Island could be called the land of Beemers, Benz’s and Bentleys. This densely populated chunk of sand sticking into the Atlantic is so palpably rich you could feel the hum of money while driving down the streets.
My senses were overwhelmed. Everywhere we saw huge houses; some overlooking the Sound can only be described as palatial. We took Leah out to one of her favorite restaurant, the Cheesecake Factory. The menu is so huge it came in a spiral bound notebook of 20 pages. The patrons were all huge (as in obese) and it’s easy to understand why. A simple salad plate was the
size of the platter I used to carve our Thanksgiving turkey. Vicki mentally counted the calories in the 3 courses ordered by the table next to us, and figured it was over 3000 calories for the meal. Later, Leah dragged us into Macy’s and the mall, looking for sparkly earrings. The place was packed with shoppers, even at 9 PM, a cacophony of voices, carols and products competing for our dollars. A great many of the stores, such as Sharper Image, or Swarovski Crystal specialize in only selling things nobody really needs.We spent some of our days here in “support role” for Leah as she prepared for her performances. This included tidying and dusting her apartment, throwing her laundry in with ours at the local Laundromat, and
grocery shopping. After Woolies in Derby, we are overwhelmed with the mile-long produce aisles (not to mention shopping carts that have wheels that don’t wobble). There are so many choices; our brains are exhausted by the time we reach the checkout lines.The flip side of all this wealth is that there is abundant tax money for services. Americans make the most noise of any people on Earth about hating their governments, particularly for “excessive taxes”. But driving around the Eastern U.S., we’ve noted the many services tax dollars provide, which are underappreciated. The Interstates are smooth, sanded, and well-maintained. The Pennsylvania Turnpike had emergency call boxes every mile. In Ohio we valued the clean rest stops, attended by mentally-handicapped people who were clearly proud of their work and their ability to be productive. When traveling, we could easily get reliable weather forecasts, and feel secure knowing that our flights were routed by rested, well-monitored air traffic controllers. While we are careful not to attract a speeding ticket from the police, it’s nice to know police, and fire and ambulance are immediately nearby if needed. New York and Long Island have the most amazing infrastructure of any place on the planet, with so many bridges, railways and buildings. And there is consumer protection, so that a building in the Bronx lacking heat is a major news story, attracting help for the poor tenants from government agencies that fix the problem while tracking down the slumlord. Finally, there is the clean, crisp SUNY Stony Brook campus, its Medical Center towering above the trees, a center for learning and culture.
Leah played her pieces with energy and intensity, and we were very proud of the progress she has made in the year since we last heard her play. In the past she and her sister and I have discussed her art and its place in the world. This week’s concerts, and some conversations we had about her new role as a violin teacher fro small children, led me to reflect on her training. Leah’s teacher in High School, Doris Preucil, had a “violin genealogy” on the wall of her studio. Doris’ teacher was at a terminal branch on the tree, which could be traced back, student to teacher for over 300 years.
Violin performance is not a skill that can be learned from a book or watching a video. It is an oral and physical history that must be passed from master to student over long training and with practice. I have seen the havoc wreaked on Aboriginal culture by the removal of just one generation. The truth is that the performing arts of Western civilization are also just as fragile. Remove one generation, and music and dance would never recover.
Compared to fundamental utilitarian vocations, such as medicine or civil engineering, some people might be tempted to criticize the arts as “non-productive” or non-essential to society. But while sewers are critical, and healthcare may relieve suffering, how do we interpret and find meaning in our lives without the arts and our culture? Surely societies that support so many excesses, should find some resources to support the arts, which nuture our spirits.
