1994
Greetings!
My apologies to everyone I didn’t write to last Christmas. I was unable to do many cards or to write a summary letter owing to a thoroughly unpleasant holiday season devoted to “arthroscopic knee surgery,” its preliminaries and aftermath. My Christmas “vacation” was spent lying around in pain or hobbling around on crutches, trying to feed myself, etc. It was, you might say, a “Tiny Tim” Christmas. Knee cartilage had mysteriously torn a year previously (no fall, no bump, no specific event I could identify), and after a year of limping I had decided to try the surgery. So far I seem to have merely traded knee pain for a whole lot more pain in more places--from foot to waist--and after months of gruelling physical therapy exercises (which in themselves cause pain) I’ve regained only about 40% of the atrophied quadriceps muscle. I had been able to return to work (am still at the local high school library) only a few weeks after the surgery, but the rehabilitation of the leg is taking FOREVER!
Apart from that, and a severe, virulent kind of flu in the spring of 1993, most of the news for the past two years is more positive…
There was the usual sprinkling of trips to art exhibits and/or tours of private collections in San Francisco, San Diego, Irvine, Malibu, Santa Barbara, Los Angeles and Pasadena (notably the “Arroyo Seco” area for a combined architecture/art tour of the “Craftsman Period” houses and studios of various late 19th-early 20th century artists and craftsmen* with exhibits of paintings hanging in several, which was wonderful). In Monterey, I attended the opening of the Art Museum’s new wing at the “La Mirada” satellite building, which is dedicated mainly to showing California and Oriental art.
*Including the Judson stained glass studios, whose business has surged in replacing earthquake-smashed windows in churches, etc.
The main event for 1993 (April 18-July 18) however, was a solo exhibit of paintings by my late father (A. Harold Knott), at the Ontario Museum of History and Art (Ontario, Calif.--in the greater Los Angeles area). This was most gratifying, as it was the first one-man show of his work since the 1960s, and it made a handsome exhibit: 39 oil paintings (both landscapes and marines) arranged in three galleries in the Museum’s old Spanish-style building. I had to take up a new career field as “lady truck driver” in order to ferry the paintings down there and back in a rented cargo van--! I also wrote up a biographical piece about my father which was printed as part of the Museum’s flyer announcing the exhibit. The show was warmly received by curator, board members and public. I was very pleased about the whole thing.
Other 1993 activities included some time in Carmel doing library research on my father’s career (old newspaper microfilms), since he had lived there during the 1920s. In San Francisco I saw the opera “Meistersinger” and attended a panel program sponsored by my Wagner Society featuring various singers and others from that production. We also had a silent auction of Wagner-themed pictures by one of our members as a fundraiser for our very own production of “Das Rheingold.”
So in 1994, after months of struggle to rehabilitate my leg and myself after the surgery, I had progressed enough to be able to act as a volunteer usher when our “Das Rheingold” was produced in the Palace of Fine Arts Theatre in San Francisco on Wagner’s Birthday, May 22. Our members all pitched in doing various volunteer jobs in connection with the production. We had a young professional conductor and singers, and the orchestra was primarily made up of students from San Jose State University, with a few professionals included. Everyone was very keen to do this opera, since there are so few opportunities for musicians and singers to do Wagner. In concept this was a modern-dress version, with minimal props (e.g. Rheinmaidens in bathing suits, sunglasses, etc. on beach, Alberich as a beach bum with a metal detector after the gold, Wotan and Fricka (King and Queen of the Gods) in sleek dress-mythological or stylized/abstract approach to costuming and sets, as moderndress versions go, this was well thought out and workable. I was amazed at what a good production it turned out to be, considering how small our organization is and how small its budget! We were all very proud of ourselves for our collective success.
In April and July I had a couple more visits to Carmel to continue the library research, and made a short trip to Santa Barbara in August. There I heard an interesting lecture by a film composer on how music is composed and/or selected and produced for movies. As a long-time film buff, I found this fascinating.
We had a major fright at the end of summer when a massive brush fire (arson) at the north end of our town spread out of control over a large part of the county. On its second night I could see a huge wall of flame coming over the mountains toward us about 2-4 miles to the north and another about 5-7 miles to the east. We are hemmed in on 3 sides by mountains. I packed up as many important items as I could into my luggage, tote bags, etc. in readiness to evacuate if necessary via a friend’s car and my things in a neighbor’s truck. I felt we could survive by going to the widest part of the beach and standing in the ocean. Fortunately a cool fog and change of wind developed overnight and by morning the fire had burned out on this end, but continued heading east. It took several days for firefighters from all over the state to put it out.
In September I went on a one-night trip to Hollywood with friends to hear a concert at the Hollywood Bowl. The British Hallé Orchestra was performing under its conductor, Kent Nagano, who is the only world-famous person ever to emerge from this little town of Morro Bay, or from this whole county, as far as I know. It was a “family program,” with Britten’s “Young Person’s Guide to the Orchestra” narrated by Lynn Redgrave; “Peter and the Wolf” narrated by Timothy Dalton (who did a great job with the different animal voices- -better than he has done as Mr. Rochester, James Bond or Rhett Butler, in my view!), and Holst’s “The Planets,” which included a lovely laser light show adding a touch of magic to the scene.
We stayed at the 1927-vintage Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel nearby, and the next day I put my feet in the movie stars’ cement-based footprints at Graumann’s Chinese Theatre across the street. Again, for an old movie buff, this was great fun. I particularly enjoyed Humphrey Bogart’s inscription to the owner Sid Graumann: “Sid, may you never die till I kill you” (1946) The biggest feet I could find were Victor McLagen’s and Harrison Ford’s--much bigger than mine!
In November I went to San Francisco for a long weekend and saw the opera “Hérodiade” (Massenet) which had been hauled out of well-deserved oblivion. Placido Domingo had inexplicably accepted a tiny and unattractive part as John the Baptist. King Herod had the only big part, and gorgeous costumes. Basically it was an inspit, gutless piece, and not the usual hard-nosed Salome tale we are accustomed to via Oscar Wilde & Richard Strauss. But with Domingo in it, they had no trouble selling all the tickets. “SRO” (and I was in the “S” group).
As of November I can report my leg is getting stronger, even though not pain free. I’m in a dilemma of exercising to rehabilitate muscle vs. not exercising, to reduce pain!
The cat Whiskers, 7, whose Human Being I am, still rules to the household, charging around knocking things off tables and shelves, and demanding fine delicacies such as breast of roast chicken and baked rainbow trout. When the telephone rings he comes running, as if he were expecting a call. However, it usually turns out he just knows he can get some quality lap time when I’m pinned down in phone conversation. Likewise he comes running when he hears the typewriter, but not always to dictate a letter. Again it’s a chance to curl up for a lap snooze. As for our amphibian friends, Fred’s dynasty lives: three frogs spend part of each day in my rain-barrels, so I have to keep the lids slightly ajar for them. They then hop back into the salt-bush hedge when their ablutions are completed We also have a possum-inresidence, whom I have encountered just before dawn in the back yard, and who scuttles into the hedge at daybreak. I don’t know where the raccoons hang out in the daytime but I know they’re out there at night, from the empty and muddied water dishes and the footprints I find in the morning. Squirrels continue to gnaw off the growing tips of the pine boughs and shred the green cones all over the grounds. No one can say I am not Involved in the Ecology.
Now must begin the massive clerical effort of getting these letters and cards underway. Look forward to hearing your news. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!
*Speaking of Herod--did I ever regale you with my hilarious adventure fending off a grabby, amorous “guide” at the Herod family tomb in Jerusalem? (On a Middle East/Holy Land trip years ago….)