Greetings from sunny Phoenix! This is my second time in the city. It’s also my first time ever posting anything with a pre-scheduling function. So, actually, if you’re reading this, I wrote this post about 48 hours ago. How very Back to the Future. (Still waiting on my Mr. Fusion home energy reactor...)
Even as we approach the 21st century’s fourth decade, the belief that high culture only happens on the East Coast, mostly New York City, is persistent. Ask your average out-of-towner from east of the Rockies what they think about culture in Los Angeles and you’re likely to be met with a contemptuous sneer. There’s all kinds of classical music history under our feet in Southern California; some notable sites are only a short distance away from my home.
Phoenix, a much younger city, would be easy to similarly dismiss. When my wife and I were here last year, we spent a long while driving around, especially in the Mesa and Tempe areas, taking in a dynamic topography where outcroppings of the 20th century press against the burgeoning 21st, punctuated at intervals by dramatic rock formations and the edges of a Sonoran Desert that refuses to submit to concrete and steel.
On our first night during that trip last year, we had dinner at Organ Stop Pizza in Mesa, a local favorite insulated from the passing of time. To the right of the entrance, there was a dining hall booming with music. As we entered, we saw a large stage. Suddenly, an organist playing away at a console emerged from a trap door below. Accompanied by pizza and appetizers that were pleasantly nostalgic, we listened to a wide ranging program that covered everything from Grieg and Mendelssohn to John Williams to Tico-Tico to Kondō Kōji to contemporary Top 40 — further enhanced by occasional dance numbers from animatronic cat puppets.
Organ Stop Pizza bills itself as being the home of the world’s largest Wurlitzer organ, a copy of the “Fox Special”. My first thought was that Virgil Fox was somehow involved, but the instrument’s name originates from having been specially designed for 20th Century Fox’s sound stage. Just looking at this mighty instrument is an experience; to hear this complex, two-story tall mechanism come to life with music is beyond impressive.
Phoenix has other musical experiences as well. The city and its environs have, according to my count, at least three symphony orchestras with regular seasons. Arizona State University, which was the site of the second-ever American performance of Shostakovich’s Fifteenth Quartet (erroneously credited as the US premiere), has an active schedule of orchestral, chamber, and solo instrumental concerts. Other organizations, like the Phoenix Chamber Music Society and Yavapai Symphony Association lend further support, promoting Arizonan musicians, as well as bringing in luminaries from farther out such as the Takács Quartet and the Miró Quartet.
Last time I was here, I didn’t have too much time to explore the record store scene. Truth be told, I couldn’t manage it. Phoenix was blistering through a heat wave that averaged around 110°F every day — not the sort of weather that encourages exploration by foot or even in a vehicle. Zia Records is a regional institution. I visited a couple of locations and, while their shelves weren’t stocked with rarities, they did have a good number of Telarc CDs I’d been hunting for. Better luck was had at the Deseret Thrift in Glendale, where there awaited a cache of BIS and Hyperion CDs, mostly of music by James MacMillan and Kalevi Aho, each priced $1.
Part of me wants to go to the ASU Symphony Orchestra concert occurring on the afternoon we arrive, if only to hear Carlos Simon’s Amen!, which opens the program. I just might after all, in spite of possibly running on fumes from my early morning flight into Arizona.
Whatever the case, I hope to have more musical experiences to relate when I get back to manning my website Tuesday night. Phoenix is a beautiful city.