Katja, age 6,
with her sister
Dear George,
Opera is important to
me. It’s a link between my
childhood and the present. Opera
and the music of opera evoke the feeling parts of my life. I go to all of the operas during
Cincinnati’s summer season, subscribe to CCM opera, and never miss going to the
Metropolitan Opera when I am in New York.
The introduction of the Met in High Def at local cinemas has made
weekends something to look forward to.
Most of all I love listening to the Met broadcasts on our NPR station,
WGUC, on Saturday afternoons. I
get in bed, close my eyes, and am transported into a quiet, dark, and lovely
place.
When I was 7 or 8 years old I
lived with my parents and younger siblings in center city Philadelphia. Once or twice a month my dad would
drive me out to Germantown after school on Friday to spend the weekend with my
maternal grandparents. My grandfather, Samuel B., owned and operated a
small dry cleaning establishment, and he and my grandmother, Dora, lived in
back and on top of the shop. My
grandparents were immigrants from Russia, and, though my grandfather was an agnostic, they kept faithfully to the rules
of Orthodox Judaism in their household. This meant
that they could do no work of any sort after sundown on Friday evening, even as
small a thing as turning on a light switch or an appliance. On Friday afternoon my grandmother
would prepare sandwiches or boiled chicken for Saturday’s lunch. My grandfather would turn on the radio
before sundown, tuning it to the classical music station so that it would be
available on the Sabbath.
On Saturday morning my
grandfather and I would take a walk in the neighborhood. When we returned,
lunch was waiting. The
Metropolitan Opera broadcast would start at 1 p.m. It was my grandfather who was the opera lover, and often my
grandmother would take an afternoon nap.
I can remember hearing Carmen, La Traviata, Pagliacci, and La
Boheme. It was the first time in
my life that I spent time concentrating on listening to something. I didn’t quite know what I was
listening to, and sometimes I would get bored. But there was such a feeling of quietness and peace, sitting
with my grandfather in big, overstuffed, velvet chairs in the dark. We enjoyed hearing the opera quiz and
the questions people wrote in, even though neither of us could ever answer a
question. The Sabbath ended at
sundown or when the opera went off the air, usually around 5 p.m. My dad came back on Saturday evening or
Sunday morning to bring me home.
My parents were opera lovers
too. They had a huge collection of
78 r.p.m. records. My parents
listened to opera regularly at home, but I didn’t pay nearly as much attention
there. Being at home had so many
distractions. My mother continually sent in questions to the Metropolitan Opera
Quiz, though she never had a question chosen. She was quite upset about that.
I really loved my grandfather. He was a kind and generous
man with a good sense of humor and an innate sense of what would endear him to
his grandchildren. He was the one
who took me to my first movie, “The Dolly Sisters,” and he distributed Hershey Bars
to us whenever he came to visit.
Most of all, I remember the quiet afternoons with my grandfather where I
learned to listen carefully to the wonders of classical opera.
Love,
Katja
G-mail Comments
-Gayle C-L
(3-7): Katja, Hope all is well with you and the
family...Sorry to not have been in touch lately... I've been very
busy with work. I ead Dave's
and your emails in between...:) Your stories make me take a
deep breath and smile.. BUT ... What
a lovely story... and great memories too!!
I look
forward to many more stories ...
Lots of love,,, G :)
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