OK, I have to admit enjoying this piece of music, which is totally over the top in technical fireworks, spiky dissonances, and lyrical sections that are quintessentially Russian. There is a rather notorious set of clustered note runs towards the end, so how the hell do you play it?

Yikes! The infamous clustered note glissandos!

Here’s a solution, starting at the beginning of the measure:

RH 5  | 3/2 | 1/1 | LH 1/1 | 2/3 | RH 3/2 | 1/1 | LH 1 | 2/3 | 4 | 2/3 | 1 | RH 1/1 | 2/3  etc.

RH B | A/G | F/E | LH D/C | B/A | RH G/F | E/D | LH  C | B/A | G | A/B | C | RH D/E   F/G

The RH 5 is preferable to the RH 4 for getting the accent on the B at the beginning of the measure. This also doesn’t require the hand placement putting the fingers at the junction between the keys on the piano (although some people can pull it off  just fine).

Oh, and the same fingering can be used for the runs that begin on the E, in other words, one fingering works for the entire series of the runs.

I didn’t study music, btw, so this could be utter BS. But there you go.

 

Some of the stations are best seen in the daytime, especially the Champ-de-Mars station with its stained glass. This provides a colorful, ever-changing pattern of color in the entryway, and at certain times of day, even onto the platform itself. The remainder of the station is a clean 1960s design with a swept roof and streamlined columns. Like many of the stations built in the 1960s, the tones are neutral to bright, with plenty of tiling.

Champ-de-Mars station (1966), orange line

Down the orange line, the Bonaventure station is another one of my favorites. The interior is mostly exposed concrete with brick on the floors, the lighting scheme brings out the numerous arches throughout the entire station. Also, the signs are integrated into the pyramidal lamps. It’s more of an exception to the 1960s stations, this one looks forward to the predominant tone of the 1970s stations, which are mostly exposed concrete, but without the textures.

Bonaventure station (1967), orange line

Peel deserves a special mention, the colored circles are a unifying theme of this station, and of the Metro in general. The station, all the way down to the floor tiles, is decked out in circles. One can see the colored circles everywhere throughout the system (see below). The design of the beams is also interesting in Peel station, resting on small steel bases.

Peel station (1966), green line

The major expansion of the system took place in the 1970s and 1980s, with the extensions of the green and orange lines, and the construction of the blue line in the mid-1980s. For the most part, I found the blue line stations rather unappealing, they look outdated already in their color schemes and artwork. But the 1970s stations are excellent and memorable. Georges Vanier station is a standout. The monchromatic gray is offset by a variety of textures, and a nice splash of polished blue tiles. The circle also continues a theme throughout the Metro.

Georges Vanier station (1980), orange line

Monk station is a wonderful synthesis of vertical and horizontal curves, complete with a very tall sculpture at the foot of the bridge. The curves continue on the platform walls, in the form of a subtle horizontal wave of bricks.

Monk station (1978), green line

LaSalle, just a couple stops away, is a standout, with daring asymmetry suggesting crystals and glass. The curves have been replaced by bold lines and sharp corners.

La Salle station (1978), green line

There are also a few duds thrown in there, the busy Guy-Concordia station looks worn out and blank, and well, it is. Atwater station and some of the orange line stations on the Plateau aren’t that much better, but even in these stations, the 1960s flair comes through. The blue line stations seem to be forgettable, with color schemes like this one:

Jean Talon station (1966, 1986), orange / blue lines

Now that’s just a small selection of the stations. By all means, take the tour, the subway is integral to Montreal, and a real treat to experience.

The system was inaugurated in 1966-67 in time for Expo 67, expanded in the 1970s and 1980s, and expanded again to Laval in 2007. There are now 68 stations in the subway system on four lines, with four transfer stations. It’s a rather expensive fare for single rides, at a prohibitive $3 CDN, but to make up for that, a day pass is $8 CDN, and there’s a new evening fare for $4 CDN. The access points are equipped to handle magnetic cards that you slide through the slot, as well as proximity cards. Overall, it’s painless and easy to use.

Access for the disabled is still an issue, rather few stations have elevators, although this is changing. The platforms are color-coded with the terminal station as the marker showing which direction the train is headed, this requires a bit of familiarity, and the maps are sometimes difficult to find. As with most subway systems in the world, there are no express stops or limited runs, and the system shuts down at night, despite Montreal’s penchant for late weekend partying and dining. The stations are relatively clean, although lacking in garbage bins, so there tends to be plenty of papers and drink cups left throughout the busier downtown stations.

Trains are a standard sky blue in color, apparently not air conditioned, and run quietly on rubber tires. One nifty feature is the Copland chime as the train pulls out of the station, echoing the first notes of Fanfare for the Common Man.

The best part are the artworks and architecture of the stations, so in the next post, coming soon, I’ll present a tour of the best, notable, and the awful stuff.

The official site has an excellent history of the metro system: http://www.stm.info/english/metro/a-index.htm

Ohio Pass Road

Ohio Pass Road, looking southwest

Kebler Pass Road

US 550 south of Silverton

The lower elevation areas between Silverton and Durango will take another 7-10 days to peak, Kebler Pass is going to look good for another 7-10 days. I drove by Kenosha Pass, which looked slightly past peak on October 1. It’s a fantastic show, don’t miss it.

New Orleans is unique and defiant, managing to stave off oblivion numerous times throughout its turbulent history. The city has taken a battering in recent years with a declining population, high crime, poverty, and the aftereffects of Hurricane Katrina.

The images of Katrina are familiar, it left 80 % of the city under water for a month, and was a social, political, and physical turning point for the city. Many people left the city, although many people have also returned. The French Quarter, Garden District, and other tourist areas were on high ground, and got through the hurricane with light damage and minimal flooding. Other areas, including much of Mid-City, and most famously the Lower Ninth Ward, among others, suffered badly. I took a bike tour of the Lower Ninth to see for myself how the area has fared since the hurricane.

This area is downstream of Bywater, Faubourg Marigny, and the French Quarter, east of the Industrial Canal, a 30 minute bike ride from the Quarter. The neighborhood is infamous for being the hardest-hit part of town in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina.

Map of the Lower Ninth Ward, before and after

Specifically, two major levee breaks on the Industrial Canal spilled water east into the Lower Ninth. A blocks-long section gave way north of Claiborne Avenue, and a second section failed further north at Florida Avenue. Additional breaks at the Metarie border and the London Avenue Canal led to the flooding in the midsection of the city. The Lower Ninth Ward continues to rebuild, although it continues slowly, and there remains ample evidence of the catastrophic effects of the flooding. A number of architecturally innovative houses have been built in a 20 square block area north of Claiborne, immediately east of the new levee, spearheaded by the Make It Right foundation. Still, this represents only a small percentage of the 4000+ homes destroyed in the Lower Ninth Ward alone during the storm and its aftermath.

Housing, Tennessee Street

The story continues to play out, as investment in the neighborhood, already sparse before the hurricane, remains that way. People say they will return when the services return, while potential investors say that they will return when people move back. For now, it resembles Detroit in many places, a regular grid of streets devoid of houses and businesses serving the daily needs of its population.

Tagged house, note the height of the mark

Freshly mowed, will the residents eventually rebuild here?

Several blocks inland from the levee, looking south towards the Claiborne Avenue Bridge

Florida Avenue Bridge, seven blocks (~500 m) inland from the levee break

It remains clear where the levee break occurred, as certain areas 5 blocks inland were wiped out and are now overgrown with vegetation. Residents who were living in the immediate area, who could not get out of the city, had no chance. The death toll in the neighborhood was disproportionately high, accounting for nearly 60 % of the fatalities attributed to Katrina.

On the other side of the Industrial Canal is another rebuilding effort spearheaded by Ellis Marsalis, known as the Musicians’ Village, and being constructed with help from Habitat for Humanity. This section of town is more physically intact despite being flooded, but still bears the familiar marks of abandoned houses scrawled with the X’s from the authorities post-Katrina.

Park, Musicians' Village

On a related note, I biked through the site of the former Desire Projects and past the Florida Avenue Projects. I spoke to a resident of the new mixed-income, low rise housing along Desire Parkway, and he said that it was now a decent place to live. The Florida Avenue Projects look more ominous, despite the relatively new construction, they have a threatening feel to it, with graffiti slowly crawling up the walls.

I had a brief layover in the city after a business trip in Sweden, and was based for a night in this new section of town. The architecture is first-rate stuff and a lot of fun to explore. For beginners, the construction is currently centered in the southern part of the development, near the Metro and train station, and also on the northern end, near the university and the Danish Broadcasting Corporation’s headquarters (Danmarks Radio). Both areas have stunning structures, here’s a sampling of the goods.

Housing, Ørestad City

Mountain Dwellings, Bjarke Ingels Group

Pretty ordinary when viewed from the Metro, but a very nifty design up close

Chillin' at 9 PM, Ørestad City

Tietgenkollegiet, Lundgaard & Tranberg

Bella Hotel

The southern section is anchored by Scandinavia’s largest mall and the convention center, so it’s somewhat suburban in character. But the city planners seem to have gotten it right, the Metro stop is nearby, and the ride into town takes just a few minutes and is a scenic parade of interesting and cutting-edge structures. They also did not neglect green space, the parks are well-used and best of all, there are public chairs scattered throughout that are respected as part of the park. In the U.S., they would have been stolen in a matter of days. The demographics of the area is mixed, from what I can tell it is a mix of folks from all over the world.

The best of them is the Helmut Jahn-designed Terminal 1, the United terminal, completed in 1987. Jahn left his mark on the airport, also designing the CTA subway station, which is a masterpiece in its own right. The United terminal is the modern equivalent of the old train stations of Europe, and it’s clearly inspired by the exposed steel beams, screws, and arches. He didn’t match the rest of the airport’s architecture, an understated Miesian steel and glass box, but departed boldly from it, presenting a structure close in spirit to his downtown Thompson Center. Nevertheless, he integrated it into the remainder of the airport, giving a hint in Terminal 2 with a redesigned entryway to the gate area, and the connector corridor between Terminal 1 and Terminal 2. The terminal has also weathered the intervening quarter-century, hundreds of millions of passengers, Chicago’s notorious weather, and is a beautiful and practical structure, in the best tradition of Chicago architecture.

End of the B concourse

B concourse, central section

My favorite part, though, is the tunnel linking to the satellite concourse C. It’s a 1980′s period piece, complete with the pastel color scheme and the kinetic neon sculpture. The only thing that’s been recently missing is the matching music (to Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue). Airports tend to be so colorless and bland, what’s wrong with a few wacky colors to lighten things up, especially when you know your plane won’t be departing on time!

Tunnel between Concourses B and C

So unlike most, I always look forward to some time spent in O’Hare.