Susan Savvy

Better than EVER!

2011-08-10T22:48:00.000-07:00

I don't expect things to stay the same...though I may hope they do. I rather expect things to go south... because they often do. So when I come upon somebody who has been around for a long time and has not only stayed the same--in all the ways I want her to--but gotten even better, it is absolutely thrilling! This was my experience last Saturday night at The Tropicana Hotel in Las Vegas, Nevada.
I hadn't been to Vegas since 1975? or '76? or '77? Who remembers. What I do remember is that the Strip, where all the big hotel/casinos are, looked nothing then like it does now. WOW! What a shock! A zillion buildings in a zillion styles with a zillion people trying to get to all of them on the sidewalks, the busses, in their cars, and on the monorail. Monorail???? Holy Moley! Well, it was quite a lot to adjust to, and I can't say that I managed. What saved my spirit from plummeting was resurrection. Yes, resurrection. In the lovely Tropicana Hotel, a casino like the old ones: small, comfortable, easy to negotiate my way to the newly revamped headliner showroom, with its rich leather booths set on graduating levels so that people on each level can see the whole stage without obstruction; three rows of tables in front of the stage; excellent acoustics; friendly and happy staff. And a rich red glittering curtain keeping the secret of what is to come. And what is to come is a Rock 'n' Roll Legend. A Rhythm & Blues Diva. An Icon of Music for millions of Baby Boomers.
The room fills to capacity. The energy of anticipation builds. My partner and I are in a booth in the first row of booths, ten feet from the stage, with two sisters from Houston, Texas. We are all Gladys fans from way back, though they not quite as far back as I.
The lights dim, the curtain shimmers, and a handsome and well-dressed young man walks to center stage. "Hi. I'm Craig Knight, and I want to welcome you to The Gladys Knight Theater." Gladys will tell us later he is her nephew, her brother Bubba's son (Bubba being the remaining member of The Pips) and that Craig wanted to be the one to introduce his auntie to us. Craig says, "What's about to happen here isn't a concert. It's an experience."
Craig leaves the stage. The band kicks up. The background singers raise their voices. The red shimmery curtain draws open. On a video screen hung high over the rear of the stage, a train chugs silently toward us through open grassy fields. On raised platforms we now see six singers including Bubba Knight. On higher platforms we see musicians playing keyboard, bass, guitar, and percussion. Another keyboard, lead guitar, and drums.
White fog circles the stage floor, the singers wail, the band rocks a few blood-pumping bars. The rear stage curtain opens...and there She is. In a gauzy, flowing, tastefully-bejeweled white pantsuit, Gladys Knight. The one and only, Gladys Knight! Full of voice, strong, warm enough to raise your blood pressure, cool enough to ease it back down.
She looks fabulous! Through opera glasses: smooth skin, gorgeous whiter-than-white teeth, and that face—bright-eyed, open, welcoming. Gladys is still loving what she’s doing and loving us for still loving what she’s doing.
And what she’s doing is singing her heart out—as she always has. In full command of the stage and everyone on it, the music, the lyrics, and us, oh yes, us. Not something as mundane as our attention but our unreserved, absolute devotion to her every note, her every word, her every move, her every thing! Keep on keepin’ on! Oh, yeah. We have. We do. And we will!
This is, you see, a trip into our own lives: our loves and losses, our hearts and souls. Gladys Knight and her music live in our cellular memory. She has been our companion since we first heard her sing With Ev’ry Beat of My Heart back in 1960. From the '70's with I Heard it Through the Grapevine, If I Were Your Woman, Neither One of Us, The Best Thing that Ever Happened to Me, and Midnight Train to Georgia into the ‘80’s with Landlord, Save the Overtime, You're Number One, Lovin’ on Next to Nothin’, Love Overboard, and her quintessential rendering of I Will Survive.
You see, I am a child of Gladys Knight’s music. My love of soul music probably birthed the first time I ever heard Gladys and the Pips. Listening to them now I understand how the background vocals were and are like lines in a concerto. They foreshadow, counterpoint, enhance the lead vocal. They provide the layers and textures to deepen the story and heighten the music. As I was listening to Midnight Train to Georgia this morning, I realized that I knew the background vocals more thoroughly than I did the lead! And, watching Gladys onstage last Saturday night singing this song, I saw her, right after she finished singing a lead line, lower the microphone and sing the background line for her own enjoyment, then raise the mic again to sing her next lead line. Wow! There ya go!
The joint is jumpin’! We rock in our seats, we leap out of our seats in standing ovations, we scream, we applaud until our hands are blue! She tells us, “Come on now, put your hands up and clap with me,” and we do joyously. She says, “You’re gonna wanna sing at this part, so when I say go, sing!” and the whole room lifts in one voice.
Gladys thanks us for coming. She tells us how important it is to her that we have loyally stayed with her for all these years. Someone shouts from the audience, “I love you, Gladys.” Gladys, not missing a beat says, “I heard that, and I love you, too.” Throughout the show Gladys Knight is warm, funny, heartfelt, generous, grateful, and interactive with us, her faithful and adoring and equally grateful fans of 50 years.
Gladys says, “Ya know what I miss? I miss romance. Not sex. Romance.” With a sly side-glance she informs us, “That comes before sex.” Laughter from all corners.
As I revisit her songs today, I realize why she misses romance—all her songs are love songs. Various types of love: between lovers, parents and children, family, friends—love songs all. I am so in her camp.
Gladys takes some time to wax poetic about love and the difficulties of relationships and, eventually, says, “One day, you might even find yourself saying ‘It’s sad to think we’re not gonna make it…’” Seamlessly she has led us right into one of her biggest hits, Neither One of Us (Wants to Be the First to Say Good-bye). Chills all over!
Finally, after numerous standing screaming ovations, an hour and a half of solid give-it-her-all performing, Gladys says, “I gotta go.” I don’t want her to go. Nobody wants her to go. She sings one more song The End of the Road, an inspiring message about reaching the end of our own road. On the screen behind her shines a scene of a country road at the end of which is a rainbow--we have come full circle. Gladys's message is clear, and soooo uplifting!
Roses are offered up to her by a loving fan. Others rush the stage to shake her hand. She walks from one end of the stage to the other two, three times and shakes every hand, makes every friend feel important, blows kisses to those standing in other areas of the showroom, listens to “It’s our 50th anniversary,” and congratulates the silver-haired couple, while we who are not rushing the stage, but may want to, scream and yell and applaud like there is no tomorrow. Who cares about tomorrow!
There is only toKnight! I consider rushing. But don’t. Instead, as she is approaching the stage nearest our booth, I blow her a big kiss. She sees me. Makes eye contact and answers me by blowing a kiss. WOW!! Gladys! She has seen me! We have communicated with each other! In the language of love.
She eventually grooves on back to the rear center stage, roses in arm, and takes her graceful closing bow. The rear curtain closes. The big red front curtain draws together. The band is still rockin’, the singers wailing their last bars of this extraordinary experience. Craig Knight was right.
This was so much more than a concert. Because Gladys Knight is so much more. And she gives us her all. And I, for one, am resurrected. Totally revitalized in body, mind, and spirit. The life force is flowing through me like it hasn’t probably since the last time I was fortunate enough to be in Gladys Knight’s audience, which was somewhere in the very early ‘90’s, shortly after she went out on her own.
A septuagenarian friend of mine (an accomplished singer herself) told me recently when speaking about seeing singers in person, "It's so hard to be close to greatness these days..." I agreed. But last Saturday night I was indeed close to greatness. And I can tell you this, my friends, I will not wait another two decades to do it again.
“Gladys, Gladys, Gladys,” I’ll be back to see you pronto, my dear!!!! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you so very much for EVERYTHING!!!

Tension In Every Frame!

2010-11-05T16:23:00.000-07:00

"Any sign of the police?" the girl driving the convertible asks the guy in the passenger seat.
This is the first line in the first scene of my favorite film directed by Alfred Hitchcock.
A British suspense/thriller, Stage Fright pairs the unlikely duo of Jane Wyman and Marlene Dietrich.
I would never have thought they belonged in a film together.
My experience of Jane Wyman is limited to Johnny Belinda, her Oscar-winning performance, Falcon Crest, the TV drama of the 80's; and her song-and-dance supporting role in Dancing Lady starromg Joan Crawford and Clark Gable, 1935. HOWEVER, she is the main character in this 1950 film and shows what a commanding presence she was even then. Surprisingly so for me, in the scenes she shares with La Dietrich, Wyman's intensity commands as much attention as Dietrich's mystery and luminosity.
At the age of eleven, I fell under Marlene Dietrich's spell at the Fairfax Theater in 1958 while watching her stunning, shocking performance as Christine Vole in Billy Wilder's magnificent courtroom thriller Witness for the Prosecution! And in Stage Fright, Marlene delivers everything that has made her a legend from day one on the silver screen: that lissome body, gorgeous face, elegant style, and total immersion in the character she is playing, convincing us that she (the character...and, maybe, Marlene, too) has experienced more of life--both agony and ecstasy--than we will ever know.
Compelling in each scene these actresses share is the contrast in physical appearance and character:
Wyman, dark-haired with trademark bangs, young, clear, innocent, and loyal; dressed in sensible suits, simple dresses and hats.
Dietrich, blonde, hair pulled away from the face showing off those remarkable cheekbones and eyebrows, older here than Wyman by at least a decade, complex, manipulative, and betrayed; dressed in clinging gowns, fur stoles, and light-colored netting that drifts from the brim of her hat down her decolletage, netting which Marlene sensually tucks inside the lapels of her expensive, fitted, suit-jacket.
Michael Wilding, Richard Todd, and Alistair Sim play their roles well, but the focus here is on the two women. No matter what anyone else is saying or doing, we are riveted to Wyman and Dietrich: reacting, not reacting, thinking, strategizing, fearing, moving, being!
It is a great film with twists and turns and an ending I don't expect--no matter how many times I watch it!
Do yourself a favor: turn off the phones, close the shades, and give it a go, eh!!

Love,
Susan

BRILLIANT! In Every Facet

2010-09-11T15:16:00.000-07:00

Definition of the word "brilliant": extraordinarily full of light and sparkling; shining brightly; vivid and bright in color; magnificent, glorious; outstandingly talented and/or intelligent; a diamond of the finest cut with many facets

I haven't always been a fan of opera, or its singers. And, even now, I am quite particular in what divas I choose to listen to. My exposure has been recent, within the last 20 years, and limited: Maria Callas, Mirella Freni, Montserrat Caballe, and Joan Sutherland. More recently, Catherine Malfitano on TV's Tosca and in person at a San Francisco Opera performance of Madama Butterfly. But Wednesday night September 1st on Arizona PBS, the most brilliant light I have ever seen or heard startled me and took me captive--Renee Fleming, the "reigning American soprano".
The program: Great Performances: Renee Fleming & Dimitri Hvorostovsky: A Musical Odyssey in St. Petersberg. Fleming is our hostess for the delicious trip into St. Petersberg, called the Venice of the north with its palaces, canals, and fountains. And her diction is a crystal clear in her narration of history, architecture, monarchs, and art as it is in her vocal renderings of operatic arias in perfect Italian, French, German, Russian, and Czech!
The show opens with Renee and Dimitri performing the final duet from Il Trovatore by Giuseppe Verdi in the ballroom of Imperial Palace of the Yusupov, Constantine Orbelian conducting The State Hermitage Orchestra. The room is bright, regal, and gilded. So is Fleming, who is dressed in a matte-finish gold gown, low-cut, draping from one shoulder, the hem cut diagonally, exposing a triangle of black web petticoat. Her light-brown hair is pulled up, blonde-streaked wisps descending to frame her face and highlight large, gold, lacey, shimmering orbs of earring that dazzle with every move. Dramatic! Stunning!
Dimitri is white-haired, tall, and handsome in his tuxedo. But, my God! Nothing can compete! Nothing can upstage the stunning vision of Renee Fleming in that dress before she even sings a note! When she does open her mouth, and that unbelievablly caressing voice comes out, everything and everyone else fade away. There is nothing and no one in the world but Renee Fleming and her brilliance!
Clutching her breast she sings, "As I lie here at your feet...Trample on my corpse." The music, the drama pulses in every fiber of her being. Her voice, her notes lift me up, out of my body to a higher level of awareness. Fleming is clear, she's strong, she's tender, and astoundingly agile on each ascent and descent of the scale in this triathlon, hitting every note right in the center! All thrilling on their own, but she's an actress, too! So add her physical expression: she bends and turns and rocks and squeezes out the passion, all with suppleness and grace and a power that whirls me like a tempest into the very center of her performance!
Why have I never seen Renee Fleming perform before??
Having Ms. Fleming as my personal guide through St. Petersburg is sublime! It is a city I have wanted to visit since seeing another PBS special years ago on The Hermitage and its treasures of art, acquired in the main by Catherine the Great, Empress of Russia from 1762-96. As a hostess, tour guide, and history teacher Renee Fleming--in black pantsuit with short tailored blazer over a splash of white with long, shimmery, silver and gold necklace, hair falling to her shoulders now--is chic, articulate, confident,warm and enthusiastic, with an oh, so engaging smile, on her oh, so beautiful face!
The piece de resistance, the creme de la creme, the high point for me came in the Yusupov Palace, in "an exquisite...jewel-box of a theater," where Clara Schumann, Franz Liszt, and Anna Pavlova performed in years gone by. A recital by each singer, solo, with piano accompaniment. Dimitri goes first, dressed in black shirt and pants--very Russian; sings beautifully, powerfully, if a bit wooden in performance. Then...Two women walk onstage together, the tall, slender, short-haired blonde in the thin-strapped, black-sequined, floor-length dress and The Diva, her hair falling to her shoulders, back from her face; long, slim, diamond earrings glistening. The ladies nod to each other. The tall, slender, short-haired blonde sits at the white, inlaid-marble grand piano and begins to play. Head tilted to left, The Diva waits in reverie dressed in a rich, ruby-red, off-one-shoulder lush gown with a lacy, ivory-colored stole draping her torso, slipping around her arms, and in full-flare cascading to her feet. Renee Fleming is backlit by a huge wall of a painting: a child-nymph, bare amidst a luscious garden of greenery and flowers. The child-nymph's lips kiss The Diva's right shoulder. The Diva's lipstick matches her rich ruby-red dress, which matches the color of the full-petaled roses in the luscious garden behind.
This is the moment.
The Diva--looking serene, ripe, gorgeous. She opens her mouth and begins to sing "Don't Sing to Me Fair Maiden" by Sergei Rachmaninov. She is uncluttered, uninterrupted by other singers, conductor, musicians, save the pianist. Renee Fleming. Alone. Close-up. Her eyes announcing in all directions, leaving no one in the room untouched. The Diva's second selection is also by Rachmaninov: Spring Waters. "Spring is coming, is coming. We are the young Spring's messengers..." she sings in creamy tones with immaculate technique. Alone with the music, alone in the frame--save the child-nymph kissing her right shoulder and the flowers in full-petal--Renee Fleming, the Reigning American Soprano, IS the messenger of ALL that is warm and vibrant and elegant and gifted and passionate and beautiful and BRILLIANT!

The Mood for Italy

2010-08-12T11:46:00.000-07:00

I found myself alone. A few weeks ago. For a week. So, in typical fashion I headed for the local video store to stock up. I was in the mood for Italy, not a new phenomenon. Two films came home with me, both of which I had seen before, one two or three times. Both shot in Italy, forty years apart.

The sax man squeezes out Arrivederci Roma, Marcello Mastroianni and Anita Ekberg are dancing slowly in the torchlit ambience of an ancient ruin turned restaurant and nightclub. Mastroianni is stunned by Ekberg. Something in him has been cracked open by her sensuality, innocence, and earthiness. “You’re everything, Sylvia,” he says, “You’re the first woman of creation.” She understands nothing of the Italian he speaks. Her eyes close, her shoulders undulate, her neck arches back, so taken is she by the the music.

Anita Ekberg dominates that scene where she dances in some ancient outdoor location that looks like the Baths of Caracalla turned into a restaurant and night club. She kicks off her shoes and dances with such untamed abandon, but a graceful wildness that is highlighted to the max by that dress: the strapless black work of art with sheer veil-like petticoats underneath, designed with a kind of cape that flares from the waist-back and is slit up the front, in the middle, flashing her long white legs. This could not have been more stunning in color; the black and whiteness of it are sheer beauty. Strategic turns and twists and swoops and dips send the dress into eye-catching flare and glide and cascade. Of course, there are her breasts abundant; how do they ever stay in the dress?

There could not have been another choice to play the part of Sylvia. Ekberg is abundant of form and spirit, a voluptuous and vibrant specimen of womanhood. With her long blonde hair flying left and right, her shoulders rolling, her hands clapping in rhythm, her movements fluid, graceful, sensuous beyond measure, Anita Ekberg is perfection, and by the time she walks into The Trevi Fountain, we, along with Mastroianni, have surrendered utterly.

This is the movie I have seen three or four times now. Diane Lane does what I think she does best in this film, embodying total vulnerability, fragility, self-deprecating humor, tenderness, and transformation. The scenes of Tuscany and particularly The Amalfi Coast are enough to get me to watch it again and again. And the food scenes! That long table with platter after platter of beautiful and enticing Italian dishes: the pastas, the vegetables, the beans, the meats, the wine! My god! I have to cook something delicious after every viewing!

There is, however, a scene in this movie that I had forgotten. A scene where Lindsay Duncan, one of my favorite British actresses, cast as the eccentric and somewhat bizarre English Lady of Cortona, one night gets drunk on a magnum of French champagne and wanders into the town’s fountain, black strapless dress and all. She does her dancing, as it were, in the fountain and seems to delight in performing for the crowd that has gathered to watch her.

In contrast to Anita Ekberg’s Sylvia, who was clearly moving and grooving spontaneously to please her innocent animal self. Duncan's turn in Under the Tuscan Sun is a beautiful homage to Federico Fellini’s classic scene; to Ekberg, to her timeless and unforgettable performance.

Duncan’s character is elegant, a bit subdued, older than Ekberg’s character in La Dolce Vita, leaner in physique, yet sparkling and luminous, enjoyable, in part I am sure because it recalls the memory of La Dolce Vita, and Ekberg, and That Dress in vivid detail!

Buon Appetito!

Love,

Susan

Deeper & Darker

2010-07-12T10:21:00.000-07:00

Murder on the Orient Express, by Dame Agatha Christie, is reincarnated in the new PBS Masterpiece Mystery production that aired last night.
I usually tape these shows and watch them the next day, but not last night, Josephine!
From the first scenes of Hercule Poirot, slimmer of body and heavier of mood, declaring his principles on law and justice, immediately after which the perpetrator shoots himself in the head splashing Poirot's face with drops of blood, to the scenes of Poirot on the train struggling with what is right action and what is true justice, I was riveted!
Having seen the 1974 star-studded version, I thought I remembered the story quite well, and who the murderer was. But this new production was so dark, and Poirot was so haunted that it felt like a whole different story.
Have we ever seen Poirot pray? Did we ever know he was Catholic? This one scene took Poirot, and me right with him, to such deep levels. Territory we have not traveled together. And it was thrilling!
I realized toward the end that I had not remembered who the murderer was. Shock hit me all over again upon learning the truth. The exquisite cast and direction managed to bring each character to new life, not enslaved by the iconic performances in the earlier famous film.
I have watched many, many Christie mysteries and read others. This crime is more brutal than all those put together. Her stories draw me particularly because of the lack of brutality and gore, focusing on the psychological and motivational aspects of her characters and the superb drawing of her sleuths Hercule Poirot and Miss Marple. After last night I want to know what was going on in Agatha Christie's life at the time she wrote Murder on the Orient Express? Why the sharp turn to such a brutal crime?
The last scene in the film, which I won't reveal in case you haven't seen it yet, shows a part of Poirot that we have never seen before, that maybe he has never seen before, and it moved me to tears.
The film will be repeated maybe two times on PBS this week. Check your guide or go to www.pbs.org/wgbh/masterpiece/ for the listings. DON'T MISS IT!!

Love and mystery,
Susan

Agatha's Best

2010-07-08T10:10:00.000-07:00

David Suchet on the Orient Express...did ya see it? Last night on PBS? Wow! What a fabulous trip, not only on the famed luxury train but also into David Suchet the man.
For those of you who don't know who David is, let me be the one! He is an English actor who has become the most exquisite, eccentric, and compelling embodiment of Agatha Christie's legendary private detective Hercule Poirot.
Along the journey, we are treated to the pianist in the bar car tinkling out the theme from the Hercule Poirot Mysteries on TV, Suchet entering the room to his music. Regarding Poirot, Suchet says that he would have loved being on this train to observe. "He is a great observer." And Suchet mid-word slips from his velvety baritone voice, "He works with-" into the more pinched, breathy tones of Poirot, "-the psychology. Ah! The details, always the lit-tle details, the truth, the facts, Hastings, the facts..."gently pointing his finger to the ceiling for emphasis and breaking into a smile of sheer joy in the character. And with a twinkle in his eye that betrays a mixture of pride and awe, Suchet says of Poirot, "He's extraordinary."
The train itself and the journey are mesmerizing. If you missed the show, it will be repeated Thursday 7/8 at 3 am and Sunday 7/11 at 3 pm. These are Mountain Time hours.
Of course, all this is a prelude to the first of three Poirots on Masterpiece Mystery this season, which begin on Sunday 7/11 at 9 pm with none other than Agatha Christie's Murder on the Orient Express!
A brand new production starring David Suchet. Remember the 1974 movie? Albert Finney as a blustery, snorting, cartoon portrayal of Poirot. The rest of the cast, of course, was exceptional: Ingrid Bergman in an Oscar-winning role, Richard Widmark, Lauren Bacall, Vanessa Redgrave, Wendy Hiller, Sean Connery, John Gielgud, a very young Jacqueline Bisset, and Michael York, directed by Sidney Lumet.
This PBS production with Suchet at the helm aided by Dame Eileen Atkins, Barbara Hershey, Hugh Bonneville, David Morissey, and Toby Jones, I am sure will at the very least match the intensity of the film, and, I bet you, bring depth, breadth, and that undefinable but oh, so recognizable THING that puts the MASTERPIECE in Masterpiece Mystery and Theater. Don't miss it!
On a more high-desert note: took an early walk alone this morning to find a bobcat/lynx sunning itself on my neighbor's low stucco wall! I greeted it; it looked at me; I blessed it; it looked at me. Found out on the way back that my neighbor's cat had been lounging on lead on the patio at the same time the lynx was sunning on the ledge! Wow! Guess the lynx had already had breakfast. Maybe they were having a catty conversation? My neighbor got her feline in safe and sound but was still a bit rattled when I saw her on the way back. Oooooweeee! Life in the wild!
All for now.
Love and Poirot!!
Susan

Fire & Rain to FIRE!

2010-06-21T14:52:00.000-07:00

Carole King & James Taylor Reunion at The Troubadour in L.A.: Great to see them together, to see them in such an intimate setting, to see them so loving and appreciative of each other. And the original band backing them up as did fifty years ago?? Let's hear it for longevity! I have to say that for me Carole's rendition of "I Feel The Earth Move" solo, pumping away at that piano, was the peak.
Other great musical offerings on PBS last week: Pavarotti: A Life in Seven Arias; Elaine Paige Onstage:
check out her performance from Sunset Boulevard, the musical. Gloria Swanson, I think, would've been thrilled, for Paige really DID Gloria doing Norma Desmond. The flare of the eyes, that faraway look, that just-a-little-wild grin. I had never seen Elaine Paige before, but now I am a convert.
To FIRE: It's June in Arizona, big fire month. We almost made it through without a threat, but now there are fires close enough, in Flagstaff, to be threatening should the daily wind change direction and blow south.
We are putting together emergency evacuation bags in case we have to get out quickly. Last time, we had five minutes to leave! Hope it doesn't happen here this year.
All for now, gotta pack!
Love,
Susan

What a Birthday!

2010-06-01T12:21:00.000-07:00

Hey, y'all! Just back from two wonderful days on the road in Northern Arizona! Got a surprise mystery trip to Winslow as a gift for my 63rd birthday. Now, you might think there's nothin' in Winslow worth writing about, but, listen up, my friends, because one of the most wonderful hotels in the world is right there: Mary Jane Coulter's La Posada! It is a historic complex that reflects the early days of train travel in the West. Originally a Fred Harvey hotel, it still has it's Harvey Girls, and Boys, serving in the five-star restaurant, and the overall ambience is out of this world.
Designed by Ms. Coulter to reflect the great haciendas of the Southwest, rooted in the Spanish but influenced by Mexican and local architecture and lifestyle, La Posada IS the experience! Each hotel room is named for a famous person who stayed there. For example: Carole Lombard, Clark Gable, Bob Hope, Jane Russell, Howard Hughes, and President Truman! Gotta love that!
So what does one do there? Oh, bask in the sun (or shade) on the patio in the afternoon, rest, read, nap afterwards, or during. Dress casually for an exquisite meal in The Turquoise Room, stroll in the gardens after dinner and watch the trains pass right by what used to be--in the heyday of Superchief's--the front entrance, dance to classical guitar music in the lounge, watch the stars (not Carole or Clark, but the original ones up there in the vast night sky), sleep like a baby. Rise at dawn to see the sun making its way above the never-ending horizon, breakfast on baked eggs topped with melted cheese served on a bed of spinach nestled on creamy polenta with a house-baked cinnamon roll and silky hot chocolate made in the espresso machine. Stroll down to "Standin' on a corner in Winslow, Arizona..." and take some pictures, then check out the trackside train park complete with red cabooses (cabeese?) and gazebo, make your way back to Posada and settle on the porch bordering the spacious, grassy, cottonwood grove to play a game of cards, nod off, or wait for the BN&SF, Burlington Northern & Santa Fe, to roll by and set your imagination to wandering.
Now, many make La Posada their base for visiting the Grand Canyon, Painted Desert, Monument Valley, and other fabuolous sites in the area-great choice! I, however, go to La Posada to inhabit La Posada.
Nothing could please me more than to wake-up there on my birthday morning! Or any morning!
Do yourself a favor and book it now! http://www.laposada.org/
Love to you all,
Susan

Where'd I go???

2010-05-16T09:36:00.000-07:00

Yo'! Blogpals! I have returned!
I can't believe it's been three months since I wrote to you, but it has. And that time has been quite miraculous.
Thrilled and delighted I was about getting tickets to all the movies I wanted to view at the Sedona Film Festival, but it was not destined to be. My back went out after bending over to sign a credit card receipt at a local natural foods store throwing me out of commission for six weeks!!! I mean I could walk and sit and lie down--but not without excruciating pain! Pain that would have me shrieking just trying to turn over in bed.
I bucked-up and trussed-up and went to one screening at the Festival: Leave Her to Heaven with Gene Tierney, introduced by my favorite guy Robert Osborne. Well, I had to get up and stand because my back hurt so much. I gave up the rest of my tickets and prayed to make it through the ordeal.
I did. Not without a few dark nights of the soul. And, I am happy to say, not without maintaining my joy.
Yes, thanks to The Course in Miracles, Network Chiropractic, and a growing communion with The Almighty, I did not get lost in my pain. Wow! This is monumental growth! I have to thank my back for gifting me with the opportunity to clear out that old debilitating stuff.
The first week in April, when I believed I was finally ready for a road trip in the car, Kathy, Shasta, and I drove to Santa Fe, New Mexico. We were in search of Georgia O'Keeffe country. Man! Did we find it! Not only Santa Fe, which houses The Georgia O'Keeffe Museum, but an hour or so northwest we discovered Abiquiu, the Chama River Valley, Ghost Ranch and all those glorious landscapes that Georgia O'Keeffe lived in and painted so stunningly! I was in awe every step of the way, so much so that we are planning a longer stay there next spring.
Up to The Enchanted Circle, northeast of Abiquiui, to a charming Swiss ski resort called Red River.
Nine thousand feet or so up in the mountains, it is a total surprise in the otherwise rugged desert landscape of northern New Mexico. We will return there for a longer visit also!
Now, I am writing on my next book; setting up a marketing website, which will be up and running by June, I hope, containing free ebooks written by me that promote my other books to the world!! It's all very exciting!
Having come through the illness and injury of the last six months, I try not to take for granted vibrant good health and everyday mobility. And, oddly enough, I am lighter and stronger in this new phase of being!!
Catch you sooner rather than later!
Love to you,
Susan

It's Not THAT Complicated!

2010-01-09T11:32:00.000-08:00

Fans! Beat it down to your local theater to see Meryl Streep in It's Complicated. I belly-laughed out loud so many times during this film that I almost levitated. Nancy Meyers wrote a terrific script, and the chemistry between Alec Baldwin and Meryl makes every scene they are in together funny, or touching, or both. Miraculous Meryl is showing us at 60 a new lightness of being and flair for the comedic that we certainly wouldn't have bet on a decade or two ago.  There is NOTHING this woman cannot do! Thank you, Meryl and YAY!!!
While you're at it, catch Robert Downey, Jr. in Sherlock Holmes.  Jeremy Brett is my favorite Holmes to date, but Downey, Jr. gives Holmes a humanity and humor I have not experienced before with any of the interpretations on film. Thus, not only did I like the character better but I was surprised and satisfied to be sharing a couple of hours with Robert, Jude Law, and Rachel McAdam: a team I'd like to see again in these roles.
That said, last night I watched the most refreshing film I've seen in a long time: Davy Crockett, King of the Wild Frontier. Yes, you heard me, the same Davy Crockett we watched as kids with Fess Parker and Buddy, soon-to-be-Jed-Clampett, Ebsen. My niece Jamie VanBoskirk of Marysville, Pennsylvania for Christmas very thoughtfully gave me a DVD of two Crockett films. I had mentioned to her that he was a hero of mine growing up, and she gifted me with an inspiring piece of my childhood. How great is that? REALLY GREAT for me. The amazing part is that the story was compelling and touching and funny.  The production had an air of simplicity in its delivery that left me with my breathing intact, maybe even expanded. Thank you, Jamie.
Taking my book, I Knew It Then, to its first Literary Salon on Sunday here in Sedona. Up at four this morning choosing passages to read and rehearsing them out loud. Got it!
Haven't a clue what to make for dinner. Oh, well, Nicoise olives, Danish Fontina cheese, crusty Rosmary-Sea Salt bread from Wildflower Bakery dipped in Extra Virgin Olive Oil, a rich gold in color this time, from Lucca, and a glass of Bolla Bardolino will do the trick anytime!
More culinary tales from la Bella Toscana, beautiful Tuscany, to come...
Love and Peace,
Susan

A White Christmas!

2009-12-24T07:39:00.000-08:00

It snowed big-time in our part of Jack's Canyon the night before the night before Christmas.
I got up at five a.m. to go to the bathroom and shined my little flashlight out the window to find the south forty piled with snow. I ran to the other parts of the house to open the shades and look outside: mounds of snow all over! Huge pines, pinons, and Arizona cypress with limbs drooping under the weight of so much snow.
When it got light enough, around 7:20, we hooked up Shasta and went out for the most glorious walk in the mist shrouded joy-inspiring flakey-whiteness of our corner of the world.
I've never felt more like a kid on Christmas!
We ran into neighborhood friends who had the same idea. Enjoy the photos.
To all of you Merry Christmas and to all a good night.
Love, Peace, Joy, Laughter and Good Food!
Susan

Alive and Almost Well

2009-12-14T16:31:00.000-08:00

It was not the trip I'd hoped for.
I've been ill since the night I flew from San Francisco to Munich then to Pisa. Upper-respiratory infection that was not treated aggressiively enough in Italy and blossomed into bronchitis, which I still have and am now treating quite aggressively thanks to my Nurse Practioner here in the good ole' USA, Cathleen Jochim. Today is the first day in over a month that I have felt like myself and felt up to writing to you.
Being so ill and without energy, I spent a great deal of time at home in Lucca with my cousins: a challenge for all of us. I did manage, after a week, to ride in the car with my cousin to some of the composer Giacomo Puccini's homes in the area, and that was lovely. Another memorable outing took me to the hills above Lucca to stroll among the olive groves and watch the workers harvest the most sought after olives in the world for making extra virgin oil. And I managed an afternoon in Florence.
In Piazza della Repubblica, at Ristorante Gilli, in the sunshine, in the warmth, without a horde of tourists, I am lunching. When living here in Firenze, I used to dream of sitting under these golden awnings and savoring a good meal, but never let myself. An inhabitant I was then, not a visitor. But today is my first day of flying the coop in Lucca after being in bed for a week. Today, freedom is mine, thank God, on an afternoon in the cradle of The Renaissance.
"Signora, ha deciso? Madame, have you decided?"
"Si. Cozze e Vongole Saute, Insalata di Tonno e Verdure, Aqua Minerale Naturale. Mussels and Clams Saute, Salad of Tuna and Vegetables, Mineral Water Non-carbonated."
"Un bicchiere di vino, signora? Va bene con le pesce... A glass of wine, Madame? It goes well with the fish..."
"Certo. Sure."
The bread and water arrive first, then the wine--a beautifully blown glass with liquid gold undulating in the broad bowl. I tip it to my lips--yes, crisp, dry, cold, with a lush finish. Indeed, perfect for the fish.
Book-ended by two thin crisp toasts, the mussels and clams arrive in a generous, white, oval bowl. The aroma seduces. With my fingers I pick up a baby clam, suck the meat out, and drink the broth pooled in the shell--it is the sweetest most tender clam I have ever eaten. I try a mussel--same deal. The flavor is salty and sublime. A sip of wine--Frascati, my guess--and all is right with the world. I lean back in my chair, raise my Arizona-tanned face to the Tuscan sun slivering between the awnings and breathe as deeply as I can the air of perfect culinary bliss.
Gazing up at the ancient gate to the city and recall when I was teaching at Istituto Americano, a few steps away from where I sit. Then, the salad arrives: crisp and fresh with a cornucopia of tonno on top surrounded by capers, olives, aritchoke hearts, and rounds of tender mozzarella di bufala, buffalo mozzarella. I dress the greens and veggis with good green oil, red wine vinegar, salt and pepper, and drench the tonno in the oil. A salad to savor for its freshness and simplicity.
My God! This is something to come to Italy for! A meal I would have made for myself in exactly the same manner elegantly served to me in a piazza, in a city, on a day that is unforgettable. Sono contenta. Passo un hora cosi, nel sole di Firenze. I am content. I spend an hour like this--in the sun of Florence.
More to follow.
I am so very happy to be home.
Love, Susan

Back to the Motherland!

2009-11-09T15:20:00.000-08:00

Gang! I'm packed and ready to hit the trail tomorrow to Bella Italia! Wow! Can't wait to see the smiles on my cousins' faces when I come around the corner from baggage claim at Pisa Aeroporto. It's been two years since we've been together, and that is just too long.
It'll take me 26 hours with all the layovers, the first of which is in my beloved San Francisco. Three hours to kill in an airport I like very much: dinner in The Crabpot Restaurant--crab something--then a stroll through the wonderful bookstores. I'm not taking a book to read, other than my Italian Verb Tenses exercise book. Besides, my carry-on is full enough. I'm hoping to watch a segment of the German-produced Inspector Brunetti films, which I discovered last time Lufthansa carried me to Italy. Yes, the same Guido Brunetti of Donna Leon's vivid imagination.
At the suggestion of my dear friend Cathy Gazda, I will purchase a lovely notebook at Signum in Firenze (exquisite paper goods) and keep a gastronomic delights journal, from which I will try to blog you-all when I can get to a computer. So, maybe you'll put on a few pounds just reading about my culinary ecstasies!!
But taking a cue from Shirley MacLaine, What A Way To Go!
Happy Thanksgiving!!
Baci,
La Susanna

Ready to Roll

2009-10-30T07:13:00.000-07:00

Yo! Fans! Here I am! Awake since three and ready to speak.
Two days of a vice-crunching, throbbing headache caused by, I thought, a severe change in weather was sent packing by Miracle Man Dr. Marc Viafora at Mountain Dove Chiropractic. It seems to have been a pattern for me at this time of year, ascertained Dr. Marc, who then said, "Let's see if we can interrupt that pattern." We did. Not without a sobbing trip deep within, followed by immediate release, a three and a half hour nap, and a peace that permeated my entire being. Wow! This Network is great stuff.
That afternoon around four-thirty tiny white dots fell in Pine Valley! They morphed into large lacey flakes that hitched a ride on Shasta's back as she and I walked through the magical screen of snow that graced our corner of the canyon on Wednesday.
Twenty-seven degrees right now! Yippeeeee! The summer was soooo hot and sooooooo long and sooooo buggy that this is nirvana.
Registered yesterday for The Hollywood Book Festival in July of 2010. Produced in conjunction with Barnes & Noble, this is a one-day event that brings authors and filmmakers together to further the bringing of good stories to the silver screen, home-screen, any screen. I am very much looking forward to returning to the scene of my former life as a two-book-on-my-way-to-three-and-four AUTHOR!
Haven't even thought about dinner!
Buongiorno, amici!
Baci, Susanna

Back on the Block!

2009-10-18T11:30:00.000-07:00

Hey, blog fans! Sorry I've been out of touch for a week. How did it get to be a week? Whew, time really does fly!
I've been getting rave reviews from readers of my new book, I Knew It Then: men and women from Sedona to New York, California and Louisiana to Canada: "It's magnificent!" "Hard to put down!" "You're a phenomenal writer!" "I didn't want it to end!" "I laughed, I cried, I loved it!" It is so rewarding to get this kind of response for three years of hard work on so many levels. Thank you!
Kathryn, Shasta, and I, along with our friend Cheryl, drove north three hours for a two-day visit to Antelope Canyon and Lake Powell in Page, Arizona. Antelope is the canyon you have probably seen in photos: the colors, lines, and formations look like the inside of a conch shell. And after being inside that canyon, I can honestly say I felt that I was at the bottom of a dry ocean. The most exciting part for me, however, was getting there from the toll booth. Our pick-up truck was full of folks in the bed, so Cheryl and I rode in the cab with our guide and driver Juana. (Kathryn had been the day before and stayed in the Highlander with Shasta.)
The sand was soft and dry and we skidded in and on and over ridges. Juana said, "I'm just up from Phoenix visiting my in-laws, who were short a guide..." Okay, Juana. At times it felt like we were floating, at times like we were taking off! But Juana got us there and back safely and all with a smile on her lovely face!
Got some great photos.
Enjoyed the rest of our time at stunningly bluuue Lake Powell, and Glen Canyon Dam and Recreation Area, part of the NATIONAL PARK System!! How appropos.
I have to say it was just as good as the first--or any--time driving into Sedona and pulling into our canyon-embraced driveway to relax and sleep in our oh-so-comfy desert hacienda. I LOVE WHERE I LIVE!!
Dinner tonight? Cannellini beans with garlic & sage, salt & pepper, and good green oil; polenta fried to crispy outside, moist inside, Caesar salad, and maybe a glass of chilled Vouvray from the Loire Valley in la belle France! Still staying slim, I am: Italy is three weeks away!
Enjoy the photos and bon appettito!
Baci, Susanna

The Best of The Best!

2009-10-09T06:27:00.000-07:00

Man! I tell you, it was Hollywood all over The Harkins Theater in West Sedona last evening! The place was packed, the crowd joyous, and Some Like It Hot was never better! Released in 1959 and just as timely, funny, and thrilling as ever, and I've seen it at least 20 times.
Robert Osborne, of course, introduced the film and passed on some juicy morsels: Billy Wilder, the director of this and many other terrific films, signed Tony Curtis first, then went after Frank Sinatra for the Jerry role and Mitzi Gaynor for the Sugar role. Yuck!! Can you imagine how not spectacular this movie would have been with those two, albeit talented and wonderful performers, in it? Holy moley! But, Sinatra didn't show up for a few meetings with Wilder, and Wilder, not wanting to deal with Frank's casual attitude, looked elsewhere. Jack Lemmon was a relative newcomer then, and Wilder wanted established star power for his film. Meanwhile, Marilyn Monroe heard of the project and wrote Wilder a letter saying she wanted very much to play Sugar. Wilder signed her in a heartbeat, and then signed Lemmon. Tony Curtis later told the audience that he asked Wilder why he changed his mind about Jack Lemmon, and Wilder replied that Marilyn would get people into the theaters, so he could now sign the lesser known Jack. Well, Jack was never to be lesser known again after his fabulous turn as Jerry/Dapne!
Osborne also revealed that Marilyn, apparently a savvy businesswoman, not only took a big salary for starring in the film, but 10% of the gross profits, which made her a very wealthy woman--from Some Like It Hot alone. And well she should have been for her luminous beauty and irresistable innocence never had a better showcase than this film.
I spent most of the two hours buoyed in my seat, floating on so much unabashed laughter that filled the auditorium throughout the film. Hoots, hollers, whistles, and wild applause broke out right after the last immortal line uttered by Osgood to Jerry, "Well, nobody's perfect..." and carried on until Tony Curtis was introduced and rolled down the aisle in a wheelchair. He stood and greeted Robert Osborne as if he were a long lost brother. A bout with pneumonia last year made him unable to walk well, but "My doctor told me I'll be able to walk again, soon," he said at the end of a candid, warm, very funny, and captivating interview. The most startling thing he revealed was that he and Marilyn were quite at ease with each other, especially in those very hot scenes on the yacht, on the couch, "lying on top of each other." Why? Because unbeknownst to anyone on the set of Some Like It Hot, Tony and Marilyn had dated, quietly, when they first came to Hollywood: he 23, she 19, unknowns trying to get a break and make a name for themselves.
In those unforgettable scenes they were comfortable because, as Tony said, "We had practiced."
He rolled out to the lobby and sat in the chair shaking hands and talking with fans. I was never a Tony Curtis fan, but after last night, count me in!
That's it for today, blog-fans! Go out and get your local theater to show Some Like It Hot on the big screen! Then, you can be high as a kite like I am today!
Ciao,
Susan

The Author Surfaces

2009-10-08T10:54:00.000-07:00

Yep, it's taken me a few days to revive and come down to earth! But with the help of my Miracle Man Dr. Marc Viafora, Network Chiropractor, spiritual guru, and joyous being, I am riding on a lighter wave of consciousness! Thank you, Marco!
For some ungodly, or maybe godly ? reason, I have been awake since three this morning and feeling just damn happy! Put the heater on for the first time this year and am LOVING the crisp, cold, high-desert autumn. Summer was lonnnnng and hotttttt this year and I am thrilled to be in Columbia fleece jackets (yes, I have a collection of them) and warm fuzzy scarves.
Today is a special day indeed: Tony Curtis is in town showing his artwork at The Sedona Arts Festival and a gallery in town, and The Sedona Film Festival has managed to snag two of his movies to show today as well. At 7:00 pm will be The Sweet Smell of Success with Burt Lancaster, and at 4:00 pm, my time for the movies, will be Some Like It Hot! One of my top five favorite movies of all time! And not only will Tony be in attendance for an interview after the showing, but my pal Robert Osborne from Turner Classic Movies will be here to introduce the film and interview Mr. Curtis. Wow! Some Like It Hot on the big screen! How coooool is that? I loved this movie so much when it came out, maybe I was 10 or 12, that I sat through it twice, back to back! Favorite line? When Joe (Tony) asks Jerry (Jack Lemmon) why he would even consider marrying Osgood (Joe E. Brown, who is a millionaire MAN, and who thinks Jerry is Daphne), Jerry, who is dancing around the room singing and shaking a pair of maracas, reliving the tango he was doing with Osgood moments before, ecstasy imbuing every cell of his body snaps back, "Security!"
There are only two things the presence of which would make this even more exciting: Marilyn Monroe and Jack Lemmon!
I'll let you know how it all goes!!
Buona Sera, amici...
Susanna

Whatta Day!

2009-10-04T11:09:00.000-07:00

The first ever Sedona Book Festival was a rousing success! Eight hours of authors, publishers, readers, and shoppers all present to further the art of the written word. Barbara Litrell and Joe Neri did a fabulous job of organizing the fest and everything ran smoothly. Thanks to you both!
I must say, after the push to get my book ready, published, and in my house by October 3rd, today I am whipped! Wanna just lie on the couch and watch a good film. Yet my mind keeps straying back to the heady times of yesterday.
Thanks to my wonderful friends and neighbors who came down to listen to me speak and read and buy my books! And to Rudy Garcia, the man who makes my hair the fabulous conversation piece that it is!
I wanted to go out to dinner and celebrate, but my partner was out of town, and my friend Michaela didn't want to go out. My first thought was stop and order some pasta at Pago's and take it to Michaela's house.
A few miles down the road I said to myself, "Why pay $15 for pasta that won't be as good as mine?" So, I went home, changed clothes, grabbed my Bio-Naturae Linguini (organic imported from Italy), Provencale olives (black, bitter, salty), red pepper flakes, and leftover World Market Marinara Sauce (damn good for sauce in a jar) and put 'em in my bag, along with a bottle of Bolla Bardolino (my favorite everyday red wine) and beat it back to Michaela's, where she and my beloved Shasta (dog-child) greeted me with smiles and hugs. A perfect pair with whom to share my success!
Soon I'll be posting some pix from The Festival on my website and here at the Salon.
Today: more of The National Parks on PBS and tonight...you guessed it, INSPECTOR LEWIS!
Ciao!
Susan

2009-09-28T16:23:00.000-07:00

Though I am loathe to miss Masterpiece Mystery and Inspector Lewis on Sunday nights, I must say that part one of Ken Burns' new series, The National Parks on PBS was wonderful! Yosemite in particular drew me like a magnet. I envied John Muir and his explorations: his listening to the rocks, and climbing to the tops of trees in a storm to know what exactly the trees experienced at such a time--wow! His finding God in Nature's majesty. I felt like his soul sister for I certainly found God in the majesty of Red Rock Country, where I now live, and was actually called here by God him/herself, which I write about in my new book, I Knew It Then. After watching that show last night, I wanted to hop in The Highlander this morning and head north to Wupatki National Monument and The Painted Desert, Marble Canyon; into Utah and up to Bryce Canyon; to all the Red Rock Wonders and wide open spaces that I could find. This stunning country that is my corner of the world ignites my passion. I am grateful to be living here.
Have a lovely evening!
Susan

2009-09-27T07:24:00.001-07:00

Happy Sunday!
And it is one for me: finally slept a full night after two or three of staring at the stars; a crisp, cool morning to walk the dog and yak away with my friend Catana up and down the hills of Pine Valley; and an email that said my books were shipped from the publisher via UPS on Friday and will arrive at my home on Tuesday! Thank God! The Sedona Book Festival is Saturday, October 3rd and I DO want to have my books. Looks like I'll be able to relax and enjoy the rest of the week in jolly anticipation of the soiree. It's my first book festival, as well as Sedona's, so you know what Sade says in that song of hers, "It's never as good as the first time..."
Making Tofu Marinara for dinner tonight: sauteed in good green olive oil, lotsa garlic, mushrooms, zucchini, and Mama Diodati's famous Salsa Napoli. Mmmm....
Happy Sunday, y'all, and buon appetito!
Love,
Susan

Away We Go!

2009-09-23T15:16:00.000-07:00

Off into the blue horizon of cyberspace! I am rather amazed that I am so excited by this whole presence on The Internet right from my peaceful red rock home in Sedona, Arizona! But you know, having exposed my innermost in my new book, I Knew It Then, has freed me to come on out. Wow! Social Security, a website, and a blog all in one year; that's heady stuff! Who would've thought??? Not me, folks. Well, I have thought about the Social Security money for a few years now, but not cyberspace. Just goes to show you that age is just a number, and life can be whatever you've got the time, energy, and inspiration to make it.
Look forward to hearing from all you other Artist Way devotees, and anyone who would like to reach out to me.

Love,
Susan