Friday, July 21: I worked in Providence in the morning. We picked up Bess and had a lovely lunch outdoors on De Pasquale Square at Viola’s. At 5:30 PM, we walked over to the marina to board the two-masted gaff-rigged schooner (did I get that right, Alan Brier?) Adirondack II
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for a sunset harbor cruise, courtesy of the Eli Lilly Company. I am a pharmaceutical whore. I shall be doomed to spend eternity depressed in purgatory without access to any antidepressants. The boat is a beautiful one, the water was calm, but the wind filled the sails. We glided out of the harbor, past Fort Adams, Hammersmith Farm, assorted mansions, passing one gorgeous sailboat after the next. The most beautiful of all is the "America," a two-year old replica of the first yacht to defend the America’s Cup in the nineteenth century, which is now available for hire for similar tours.
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Later in the evening, the Morgans came down from Newton--Donna and Alec and their son, Ian. They are such very good company and friends. They went out to dinner, while Carol and I took a nap in preparation for the Midnight recital at Marble House by Piers Lane of piano music by Lane’s fellow Australian, Percy Grainger.
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The concert was preceded by a champagne reception—all the Roederer Champagne you could chug in 15 minutes. Grainger was a most unusual man, a concert pianist and composer who got married in the Hollywood Bowl before 16,000 people, before whom he performed his To A Nordic Princess, written for his bride. His piano transcriptions are like his choral music—in 16 parts. It is fortunate that Piers Lane has 16 fingers. Grainger’s music is like great sorbet—he captures the essence of the composer, and then makes it more so, more intense. Of particular note were The Waltz of the Flowers from Tchiakovsky’s Nutcracker Suite, a Ramble on the Finale of Der Rosenkavalier, Gershwin’s The Man I Love, and Bach’s Toccata and Fugue in D Minor, which sounded like the whole Stokowski orchestra in Fantasia.In the dimmed incandescent light of the gilded salon of Marble House, the ostentatiousness disappeared, and it was strangely elegant and intimate. There were only about 40 people there.

Saturday July 21: I missed the first part of the concert. I went to the funeral, burial, and post-funeral party for one of my dearest patients, who succumbed to cancer this week, the same evening after I made my last visit with him and his fiancée at home. He was a long-term psychotherapy patient, who fought many battles against adversity throughout the time we were together and won every one of them. His greatest triumph was committing his trust to the wonderful woman who was his friend for so many years and dying in her arms at home. The funeral was at a lovely small stone Episcopalian church in Middletown, along the Sakonnet River. This man was much loved in Newport, and there were hundreds of people standing outside. His sons spoke warmly and eloquently about their father. The Vicar an Englishman who could have been Hollywood-cast, with an upper-U accent, was to me a bit scary when he brought The Dream of Gerontius to life with his concrete belief in the afterlife, but spoke warmly and genuinely of the man, filling out the portrait of a man who lived a full and generous life. The cemetery was on the other side of the island, overlooking the Bay and the Newport Bridge. After this very high church formality, the complexity of the man was evident in the party with swing music and lots of food and drink at the Knights of Columbus Hall in Middletown. He had made plans for all this when he saw what was coming. I’m proud to have known him and to have worked with him.

I stayed at the party only long enough to greet the relatives and went on to join the Morgans and Carol at The Elms for a concert of British music. Highlights included a cutesy presentation of "Fairies at the Bottom of My Garden," by Wendy Waller (no, Andy & Neal, they are not referring to the roof garden at Chelsea Towers), a stunning virtuoso performance by Emma Johnson, the English clarinetist, accompanied by Nelson Goerner, of Ireland’s Fantasy Sonata and of three Vocalises by Vaughan Williams. After intermission, a sextet of Finzi’s Eclogue for Piano and Strings, played by Piers Lane, Kerry McDermott on violin, Maureen McDermott on cello, Nicholas Wiedman on viola, and Alberto Bocini on contrabass. Finally, a wonderful Sextet by John Ireland (not the actor) with Kerry & Maureen McDermott, Livia Sohn, Nicholas Wiedman (bad, as always), Emma Johnson, and Eric Ruske on French horn.

After the concert we returned to Goat Island for a wonderful lunch on the picnic table outside, right on the water. The Divine Donna made divine gravlax, which was enhanced by black pumpernickel bread spread with Swedish dill mustard, and Carol made a wonderful taboulieh.
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The Morgans also brought two stupendous wines, a Trimbach Pinot Blanc Reserve and a Limited Edition DeLorimier ‘97 Alexander Valley Chardonnay. For dessert, a panoply of pastries and fruit.

We had barely finished our post-prandial naps, when it was time for supper at Buon Appetito, the wonderful Italian storefront restaurant with the Vietnamese chef. We ate lightly, sharing a number of delicacies and pasta. Then on to The Breakers, for a Schumannabend, including music for French Horn (Eric Ruske), piano (Mirian Conti, Valerie Tryon—here for her debut—and Pedja Muzijevic), viola (the dystonic Nicholas Wiedman), and cello (Jirí Bárta and Luigi Piovano). The program finished majestically with the Piano Quartet in E-flat.

Sunday, July 22: We went for walks and bike rides and returned for lunch of omelettes, hummus, taboulieh, and leftover desserts, along with Mimosas. The Morgans left for Providence, New York, and Boston, and we ended the Music Festival at Marble House in the late afternoon for a final Dvorakiad. First, Four Lieder sung by Wendy Waller. She was better than we had heard her, but she is still no soprano—she has no top. Two short piano pieces followed by Tom Hrynkiw. Then a lovely Piano Quartet with Sohn, Wiedman, Julie Albers and Pedja Muzijevic. After the intermission, the program closed with an electrifying String Quintet with Sohn, Laura Albers, Wiedman, Jirí Bárta, and Alberto Bocini. They were a young vibrant good-looking quintet. What a way to end the Festival. And what an eye-opening experience discovering the tremendous range of compositions of Dvorak, the depth, the richness, and the appeal to the heart of his music.