New Orleans arts scene thrives

The last week has been a hurly-burly rush of all things cultural in New Orleans. In many cases I barely had enough time to catch my breath running about my regular business and then dashing to a nightime event. On reflection much of what I saw and heard left me breathless. First of all there was Beethoven and Brahms. The Louisiana Philharmonic Orchestra, the nation's only self-run and self-sustaining symphony orchestra (still not back in its home facilities since Hurricane Katrina), opened its 18th season with the first of the nine Beethoven symphonies (to be presented in order throughout the year) along with a spectacular Brahms Piano Concert 2 played with renowned pianist Jorge Federico Osorio. I knew it was going to be a special night when a closed curtain greeted the crowd at Loyola University's Roussel Hall. At performance time the curtain parted and members of the percussion section began drumming the opening section of John Corigliano's "Promenade Overture." The short piece introduces the various instruments and sections of the orchestra one at a time. As each player is introduced, they take their place on stage and continuing playing. It was inspired by Haydn's "Farewell Symphony" in which performers leave the stage one by one or in sections until no one is left. What a delightful way to open a season. It was refreshing and somewhat hip for a classical music event and, no doubt, the choice of energetic music director and principal conductor Carlos Miguel Prieto. The next night across town the Jefferson Performing Arts Society, a small but dedicated arts organization now in its 31st year of continuous operation, presented the first of two performances of Puccini's "Madama Butterfly." It was a spectacular production starring Hiroko Morita as Cio-Cio San in the title role. Not only was Morita incredibly beautiful, but being a native born Nipponese who was classically trained in both her native country and Puccini's native country of Italy, prepared her for a magnificently turned-in role. Artistic director and maestro Dennis Assaf lorded over the music and it filled the small auditorium with the sweet sounds of tragedy. I was astonished at how good the production values were. Sunday night it was time for the special last show of a Hurricane Gustav shortened run for cabaret singer Amy Alavarez and pianist Jefferson Turner in "He Loves and She Loves: The Gershwin Music We Love" at Cabaret Le Chat Noir. All of the Gershwin favorites and a few that are not as well-known, but nonetheless, beautiful were presented. From "Fascinating Rhythm" to "I Got Rhythm" to "The Man I love" and "Our Love Is Here to Stay," Alvarez and Turner's program had it all. The show ran a little over an hour, but during that time I was magically transported back to an era that oozed sophistication and charm. Alvarez's sweet register and Turner's masterful playing made it one of the best cabaret shows I've seen this year and a contender for the new Best Cabaret Performance category at the Big Easy Theatre Awards for 2008.

Winds of change

From looking at the pictures that have come in from Galveston, I have become very empathetic to what those Texans are going through as they prepare to enter the island for the first time in two weeks. Ike's path of destruction was a huge column of storm surge that flattened almost everything in its path. As a victim of the flooding that followed Hurricane Katrina, I am grateful that I did not suffer the kind of damage they have sustained. I lost a lot, but at least I had a home to which I could eventually return. The residents of Galveston have little more than rubble awaiting their return. Besides, in the case of Katrina the flooding was manmade and, therefore, not strictly a natural disaster like Hurricane Ike. The people of Terrebonne and Lafourche Parishes reeling from Gustav also were hit by Ike's storm surges, but they are resilient and are busy making plans to come back stronger than ever. On my way back home from the recent evacuation from Hurricane Gustav, I thought I would get off the I-59 and check out if Middendorf's Restaurant was open. Middendorf's is a well-known restaurant that has been open in Pass Manchac for over 70 years. Sadly, the restaurant was closed during the evacuation, so I got back on the interstate and drove home figuring I would be back sometime in the near future. The next day I packed for the trip to Alaska and was onboard the M/S Volendam a few days later when Hurricane Ike's storm surge pushed storm surge onto the north shore of Lake Pontchartrain and, unfortunately, inundated Pass Manchac. Middendorf's was so badly flooded that its owners have decided to tear it down, another legendary Louisiana victim of a hurricane. It's a shame, but I hope they will resolve to rebuild.

Speaking of legends: Cynthia Dettelbach, the legendary editor of the Cleveland Jewish News and Rob Certner, the CEO of the newspaper, both announced their retirement from their positions this past Friday (link to article). "Cindy," as many of her staffers know her, has been the editor of the paper for the past 28 years and has worked there for the past 30 years. Rob has put in almost 11 years of dedicated service to the paper as the CEO and I owe both him and Cindy my heartfelt thanks for allowing me the opportunity to write for the paper as as staff reporter as well as to handle a host of computer support work as the web producer and IT adviser. Michael Bennett, the present publisher of the Cleveland Jewish News, will assume the additional title of editor next year, when Cindy departs the paper for good. Bennett, who came to the CJN after working with the Cleveland JCC and the Jewish Federation of Cleveland, logged a number of years as a reporter with the Cleveland Plain Dealer. He was named as publisher about 15 months ago. No news on Rob Certner's plans, but I am certain he will be doing something important after he leaves the paper. He was the finance director of the City of Cleveland Heights for many 12 years before assuming his original position of general manager of the CJN in 1998. A few years back his role at the paper was updated to a business model in which he served as CEO and Cindy took on the position of executive vice-president. He recently served a one-year term as president of the American Jewish Press Association. I wish both Cindy and Rob the very best of success in their future endeavors and wish good luck to Bennett in his new duties.

Leaving that dam ship

Alaskan mountain majesty

My last view of an Alaskan glacier from the Alaska Railroad train

September 14 and 15

The last morning on the M/S Volemdam (that dam ship!) was literally only a few hours. Bags had to be in the hallway by midnight, which meant that whatever clothes one intended to wear the final day(s) had to be carried by hand or put out in advance. The night was rainy and dreary. It was if Alaska was crying that I would be leaving her behind soon. A final breakfast line for early departing passengers was opened at 5:00 a.m., but by the time I got through the very long line, I had all of ten minutes to down the food. We docked in Seward, Alaska at 6:00 a.m. and in just a few moments I boarded a car of the historic Alaska Railroad. Originally begun as a private concern, the Alaska Railroad was taken over in 1914 by President Woodrow Wilson and completed by President Warren G. Harding in 1923 at a total cost of $60 million. The first leg of the train runs between Seward and Alaska's largest city, Anchorage, a journey of 114 miles. The remainder of service continues another 356 miles to Fairbanks. And what a train. The cars are constructed out of large plexiglass that afford unparalleled views of the Alaskan countryside. While we didn't see any moose, we did spy some mountain goats and eagles along the way. The Alaska Railroad is run along a single track over formidable ground. Each five-mile section of track is cleared for forward progress. If another train is approaching, one gets the right of way and the other pulls off onto a side track until it receives clearance. Each car has its own food service and drink area, while a club car allows for other amenities like espresso, cappachino and smoothies either with or without alcohol. The service was excellent and the four and a half hour trip was most enjoyable. Over the course of the short morning trip the scenery that was viewed was absolutely incredible. We arrived in Anchorage at 11:30 a.m. and were whisked to the Sheraton Anchorage, which served as a courtesy area for all disembarking passengers from the Volendam who were heading off to the airport. The luggage from the ship was already at the hotel, having been trucked from the ship. It was time to check out the sights of Anchorage.

Anchorage Trolley

A city trolley tour of Anchorage cost only $15.00 and lasted nearly an hour. The tour went to the airport near the center of town that boasts the largest number of private aircraft on a per capita basis. According to the tour conductor, one in 26 people in Alaska have pilot's licenses. Near the end of the tour, I elected to hop off and check out the Anchorage Art Museum. There was supposed to be an admittance fee, but as I approached the front door, I was surprised to learn that it was Hispanic Americans Appreciation Day and no fee was required. To which I replied, "Muchas gracias!" The museum had a wonderful collection on Alaska native life and a special exhibit on the Iditerod, the famous dog sled race. Several pieces of art were featured and it was the only way I was able to "see" Mount McKinley in Anchorage (not visible due to low clouds):

An oil featuring Mt. McKinley
An oil painting of Mt. McKinley

I dined at Orso Restaurant in downtown Anchorage, the site of the most powerful earthquake in the nation's history in 1964. Since those 44 years, the city has rebounded and proved to be quite resilient. By the time that evening fell, it was time to get to the airport with luggage in tow. My flight started in Anchorage at 9:22 and was due to fly all night to Dallas, three hours ahead of Alaska time. With just 15 minutes between flights from landing in Dallas to boarding a plane headed to New Orleans, it was 9:00 a.m. when I was back in a post-Ike and post-Gustav environment. It all looked the same, but I knew that wasn't the case. Parts of Mandeville and several sections of Lafourche and Terrebonne Parishes hit hard by Gustav were revisited with floodwaters during Ike's close passage. Alaska seemed a world away and indeed it was.

Taking the College Fjords

Magnificent Harvard glacier "calving"

September 12

The final day of sightseeing in Alaska aboard ship proved to be one of the most awe-inspiring. It was a journey to Glacier Bay National Park and Preserve. If ever there was a testament to global warming, it is Glacier Bay, which was visited by Captain George Vancouver 200 years ago. Vancouver, for whom the Canadian city was named, observed that Glacier Bay was a huge bay blocked at its northern terminus by a huge wall of ice. Over the course of time since then, the glaciers have retreated leaving 65 miles of new inlets and waterways only accessible by large vessels like the Volendam. U.S. Park Rangers came on board the ship and guided passengers into historical and geological explanations of what we were witnessing for ourselves. The largest grouping of glaciers is found in Glacier Bay at an area named College Fjords because all of the glaciers were charted about a hundred years ago and named for different institutions of higher education such as Harvard, Yale and Wellsley. The sound of a glacier "calving," or dropping large chunks of ice (or icebergs) into the salt water is not unlike a clap of thunder that follows a lightning strike. The difference is that just after the booming crack lets out a large chunk of white or blue and white ice can be seen plummeting to the sea in a powerful splash. Sometimes the icebergs are quite huge, but most of the times the pieces that flake off the glacier are relatively small like the size of a small room or a bed. Thousands of these floating pieces of ice line the way toward the glaciers and resemble floating markers that signal one of nature's most incredible marvels, albeit one of its slowest moving forces. Passengers on the decks watched in awe and listened as these giants moaned and cracked througout the day as salt water incursion caused the hundreds of years-old ice to crash to the sea. The day was quite chilly and many availed themselves of ample supplies of hot chocolate to steel themselves from the constant barrage of high winds and low temperatures. This was Alaska at its brutal best and the weather that seemed in the morning to be too cloudy or threatening broke through in the afternoon yielding incredible sights and sounds that will be remembered for a lifetime.

As evening fell, it was time for Shabbat. The ship provided two challahs, some terrible kosher wine and a nice sponge cake in order to bring in the Sabbath. There was time to welcome the Sabbath Bride in a fashion with some very Reform prayerbooks and I appreciated the overture by the cruise line to accomodate the few Jews who were on board.

September 13

The last full day of the cruise was spent packing and saying goodbye to the wonderful crew aboard the M/S Volendam (that dam ship!). We were treated to an afternoon Indonesian Tea Ceremony by the wait staff, all of whom hail from Indonesia. The final meal was a "Master's Chef Dinner," where everyone got to wear chef's hats and enjoy a repast appropriately capped off with baked Alaska for dessert. The last night I helped my teammates win the "Name That Tune" contest which featured children's songs. Was there any better indication that I suffer from Peter Pan syndrome? When I finally made it to my bed for the night, the Indonesian stewart for my cabin had made one of the delightful towel animals they make for guests. He had made a lobster, a clam, and a dog among others. But he had not honored my request for an elephant. That night he did:

My elephant "towel animal"

Helicopters and Trains

Atop Mead Glacier outside of Skagway

September 11

By the time that we docked at our last destination -- Skagway, Alaska -- the third stop in as many days, I was a bit disappointed. The reason was that I had booked an Alaskan four-glacier helicopter tour for the afternoon the ship was docked in Juneau. As it turned out, all air excursions were canceled due to low cloud cover. So, I hastily rebooked another air adventure -- a helicopter landing on one glacier -- before the excursion office closed on Wednesday afternoon. If things worked out, I would be on a morning flight to just one glacier at a little bit of a reduced rate, but with a bit more time spent on the glacier itself. That morning I steeled myself for what would be the third helicopter ride of my life, the first and second being airlifts out of the Grand Canyon. The bus picked up our party and we arrived in time to be one of the first six helicopter parties to fly out onto Mead Glacier, about 25 minutes flight away from the heliport. Because of my weight, I was chosen to sit in front of the vehicle, while the three ladies on the trip sat behind me. We followed the other five helicopters rising majestically in the air like proud birds rising above the landscape and then moving at breakneck speed some 2,000 feet above the Alaskan Inner Passage. Wow! What a ride! At such a height it is almost impossible to take in all of the beauty and splendor of the countryside, but it was nothing short of overwhelming. By the time we flew towards the incredible Mead Glacier and landed there, my senses were on overdrive. A glacier is a dirty place and, yet, the water that pours off of it is incredibly pure. I was actually able to drink glacier water while there, cupping my hands and making a perfect drinking cup to hold waters half a millenium old. It may not have been the Fountain of Youth, but it tasted very good, albeit very cold. By the time that our 25 minutes had been used up, we had been exposed to all manner of glacier features including the deep crevasses and moraines, which make the glaciers appear soiled because they carry much of the fine, powdery material that is deposited and moved along by the glaciers as they grind their way slowly downward. Glaciers are essentially frozen anvils of ice that move from high perches and make their way toward the sea, smoothing every in their paths. They are also moved along by small rivers of water that permeate the entire structure and lubricate the giant ice formations as they move ever slowly downward. While atop the Mead Glacier, I was able to view deep crevasses carved out by rivulets and streams of melting water that cut through the structure.

Later that afternoon it was time for me to take the White Pass and Yukon Railroad, built just after the Yukon Gold Rush, the biggest gold rush ever known. The railroad constructed over the Chilkroot Pass was considered something of a modern marvel in that it reached heights only dreamed of by miners of the late 1890's. Althought the track is a smaller-than-normal gauge, the train that runs upon it is well managed and the picturesque sights along the way to the top and looking down towards the valley make for an incredible adventure. The track runs all the way into British Columbia, so everyone had to have their passports before driving back across the border into the United States after the train ride was over.The last part of our adventure consisted of stopping at Liarsville, a depiction of a Klondike gold village that would have been considered accurate back in the late 1890s. Several of the performers were quite fun to be around and afterwards we all panned for gold just like the hopeful miners did back in the day. On the way back we steeled ourselves for the final day of voyaging that would take us to the College Fjords, home of the biggest confluence of glaciers in the Alaska inner Passage, the next day.

Deep crevasses of blue hue mark all glaciers.

Deep crevasses cut into glaciers

White Pass and Yukon Railroad moving up the railway.

Sailing and Whaling

A humpback whale descending to feed

September 10

One of the best reasons to cruise the Alaskan Inner Passage is to witness the cavorting and playfulness of several species of aquatic life such as humpback whales, orcas (or "killer whales" as they are known colloquially), sea lions and sea otters. All are regular players in Alaska during the summer months and the ship cruises and side expeditions on smaller boats in particular offer spectacular opportunities to view these magnificent creatures in their local habitats. There is perhaps no greater joy than watching whales play in the chilly waters of the Alaskan wilderness as they gorge themselves or mate prior to making journeys that will take them as far away as Hawaii. Upon arriving in the capital city of Juneau, the third largest city in Alaska, we were all disappointed that the splendiferous weather we had had in Vancouver, at sea and in Ketchikan seemed to be leaving us. The skies were dark and rain drizzled throughout the morning and early afternoon hours. The first stop was the Mendenhall Glacier, a beautiful example of the rivers of ice that have ground much of the Alaskan countryside over the course of millions of years. A number of calves or small icebergs could be seen bearing the characteristic blue hue that is an optical illusion. The blue is the result of the density of the glacial ice that starts out as hundreds of feet of compressed snow and becomes very dense ice. The ice is so dense that it will only permit the blue spectrum of light to exit, so the beautiful deep blue hue is characteristic of most glaciers.

Mendenhall Glacier located in Juneau

Following the stop at the Mendenhall Glacier, we boarded our bus to head towards a boat launch in what was now a steady rain. We climbed a double level boat that then headed out into the Pacific where whales and sea lions were expected to be seen. The inside was toasty warm and the crew offered us insights into these aquatic creatures, but the outside level above was quite chilly. The high humidity cut through one's clothing. It wasn't long before we were viewing eight humpback whales. To see these beautiful creatures up close is absolutely astonishing. But that wasn't all. We ran into a pod of five killer whales (orcas), a group of four females and one young male. We also spotted nearly a hundred sea lions nestled out on an island and were looking for porpoises before we had to call it a day. But what a day! Despite the overcast skies and the rainy weather, it was the best viewing the crew had seen in at least two weeks and was one of their best days of the summer! Check out the orcas below:

Killer whales are not dangerous to man, only seals and other whales

The rest of the day consisted of a few hours to kill at the Red Dog Saloon or checking out some good buys in shops located near the docks. The governor's mansion was visible from the main street in Juneau and two museums were accessible until 5:00 p.m. for those so inclined. Frankly, I enjoyed the scenery at one of the local pubs that featured free wireless access to the Internet for the price of buying one drink. It was after 5 o'clock, so I reckoned, why not?

Sailing Away, Zipping Away and Salmon Away

M/S Volendam (that dam ship!)

September 7 and 8

Unless you are a Native American or (as the tribes of Northwest America refer to themselves) a member of the First Nation, your predecessors probably came to the New World aboard a passenger ship, freighter or other seaworthy vessel. This traveling by sea is truly in the blood of most Americans, although some travel better than others. The rocking and rolling motion has always been very tranquil and settling to me, but there are many individuals who find it the least likeable part of traveling by sea. I hadn't been at sea in some time, probably close to eight years, but I still found that I had my "sea legs" as the M/S Volendam made her way out towards the Alaska inner passage. I vividly remember sailing aboard the Crystal Harmony on a voyage to China in 1996. Unfortunately, we hit Yeats, one of two typhoons that were blowing in the South China Sea at the end of September. We were heading for Okinawa, after having left Taipai, Taiwan and immediately the boat started rocking and tossing the passengers from side to side. It was so bad that passengers weren't allowed outdoors due to slippery conditions and 40-foot seas with 60-mile-per-hour winds. It was rough. Two passengers suffered broken arms and collarbones. Lots of people, particularly the older travelers, were seasick. But, except for a few little twinges every now and then, I was fine. Eventually, the ship headed straight for Shanghai, the first time that I know that a cruise vessel went from National Republic of China to the People's Republic of China. The cruise on the Volendam was a joke compared to that cruise.

Zipping along the Alaka rainforest canopy in Ketchikan

September 9

We arrived in Ketchikan early in the morning. The excursion tours that were offered by Holland America were varied. Some were strenuous. Some were more inclined toward the sedentary set, where one could simply sit and have the scenery pass in front and along the sides. I decided to take a more adventurous route and elected to enjoy an Alaska Canopy Adventure, specifically the Rainforest Canopy and Zipline Expedition. The route I chose in Ketchikan was a particularly fun and challenging zipline perched 100 feet or so above the rainforest floor. Yes, in case you hadn’t thought about it, Alaska is home to the world’s largest rainforest. Due to deforestation and development, the title formerly held by that rainforest in the Amazon region was taken over by Alaska and the Tongass National Forest a few years ago. Even though one might automatically think of a rainforest as being in a tropical environment, it does not have to be. In the case of Alaska’s temperate rainforest, much of it is protected by federal law. It is home to significant numbers of bears (brown, black and grizzly) and is the spawning grounds for a huge expanse of salmon. My zipline adventure consisted of eight runs, one of which was over 700 feet across the forest top. The fastest of the runs had participants reaching speeds of near 35 miles-per-hour. There is nothing to describe the sheer beauty of peering out from perches high above the forest floor where sightings of bears and creeks filled with salmon are common. The Alaska Rainforest Canopy and Zipline Expedition, which also included three suspended bridges, took over an hour and a half to compete. Once we reached terra firma again, we were presented with Olympic-style gold medals signaling that we had finished our tour. Later that afternoon I had a chance to tour uncharacteristically sunny Ketchikan. Ketchikan is home to 7,000 inhabitants with cruise ships bringing in as many tourists as locals most summer days. It is also home to a multitudinous amount of spawning salmon, which can readily be seen moving against streams that run through the center of “Alaska’s First City.” The history of the town is as colorful as its buildings with a historic red light district near the center. One building is dedicated to Dolly, the most well-known madam of the town. Those Alaskan nights get to be pretty chilly, so I can understand the need to share…er… uh…bodily warmth.