das weisse haus

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so, you know when you were dragged on those school trips, or went droopy-faced along with the family or type-A sight-seeing friend to yet one more palace…

room after room leading into yet another arched doorway. yawn.

floor-to-ceiling windows, romantically draped drapes, statues behind glass, museum lighting, some red-satin cords keeping you off the furniture?

sometimes you’re led into a room with a banquet table - some servingware left to ogle at…you find yourself smiling and humming, “6 foot, 7 foot, 8 foot, bunch!”…

when you start getting really bored, you start wondering what it would have been like to be living in those times, at one of those grand balls, banquets, what have you?

well, tonite. I was living it. in a palace originally built in 1786.

with waiter in white smock and blue fez to boot.

sequestered to the balcony (outdoor, looking out over the palatial grounds and watching the Berlin construction crane lights reflected in the still of the Spree), we played our little brass hearts off while the Prez and staff gathered ‘round ye bonfires and sipped cocktails.

…our conductor was off in the distance, backlit so we could (theoretically) use him to keep time in our soaring heights and distorted echoes.

afterwards, we scurried inside, sauntered down the back hallways of the presidential palace to return our instruments to the “kuenstlergarderobe” (artists’ green room, basically)…then rejoined the festivities.

dinner. banquet.

room after room leading into yet another arched doorway. magical.

…we were unspokeningly supposed to stay within our musician’s room, off the kitchen of course…

but, a fellow “blaser” non-chalantly encouraged me to stroll through the arches with him, to the end room with floor-to-ceiling paintings and a table with a fine-looking older gentleman flanked by two women. the President. cool.

and sorry i don't have any interior images (outside of you getting to see the artists' chambers!)...i'm sure you could bing some. or use your own stockpile of images.

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note on servers: the blue fezzes enchanted me. I would have gone home with even the roly-poly one. hacking up fleisch like he was born to do it. assuring me on my vegetarian wild mushroom choice. and my dessert selection: chocolate mousse with edible chocolate tulip bud delicately holding diced pear cubes.

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sidenote, I absolutely love, love, LOVE the german language. have I mentioned?
here’s some for ya:

posaune (noun) = trombone
(so much better sounding, instead of that hung-over toad 'trom' or 'bone', we’ve got po-zown-ah. smooth like my slide.)

blaeser (verb) = to play a brass instrument

now, this is the best:
posauner (verb) = to voice loudly, with gusto (like, the way you play trombone, I mean…posaune)

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Photos

das weisse haus
the presidential palace, "Bellevue"

bellevue at nacht...
photo courtesy of Lazarus Posaunechor

an american in paris
or, um, Bellevue. my german colleagues insisted i go down and pose in the courtyard before the festivities... (courtesy of Lazarus)

charlie
despite the cold, i egged a fellow blaser on to join me - we were entertaining the guards at least... (courtesy of Lazarus)

warming up...
definitely the most surreal stage left i've ever b-flatted in... (courtesy of Lazarus)

romeo, oh romeo
balcony was romantic, and COLD. or "scheisse"cold as the germans say. you figure it out. (courtesy of Lazarus)

insanity of the bonfires
Prez and his peeps (and us)...and, the poliziei...but if all the guards were there, then...?...(courtesy of Lazarus)

along the Spree
and can't get enuf of walking along the Spree...

undercover down?
so, this goose was squawking at me and following me the entire time...as i foto'd the palace...i was starting to wonder if he was working for the man.