Harry Wimmer harryblog@wimmercello.com

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TRAVELS WITH MY GOULASH or THE CELLO AS BABY CARRIAGE Air travel with my cello used to be so simple: the airline would treat it like a child, sell you a half-fare ticket, give it a seat belt extension, let it be next to you in a bulkhead seat, and you would be on your way. The cello could demand its own meal. Since it had its own name, Cello Wimmer was frequently offered its own credit card. It politely declined since its birth date of 1728 would, in the end, never pass the final credit check. Things have changed since those days - and one must learn to adapt. Years later, when my dear father died and I wanted to play some Bach at his outdoor funeral in Berkeley, California, I decided to leave numero uno at home and, instead, travel with my almost equally beloved Hungarian cello. Naïvely, after packing it well with extra underwear and socks, I checked it as baggage. As I was boarding the plane, I saw my cello flailing helplessly in the brisk March wind as it leaned against the cargo door below, unattended. Then it fell over and rocked on its belly until it was rescued by a supervisor. Fortunately, my judicious packing had saved the day, and the cello arrived safely. But there must be a better way. When I recounted this sad tale to my dear friend, the late luthier Jacques Français, he took me aside and explained in his inimitable Charkes Boyer French accent: "Dear 'arry, nevair, nevair let zem put ze cello on ze baggage belt. I travel often to Europe vizz a fine instrument. I walk it to ze gate. Zei take it and put it in ze baggage "hold". Zen, at zee ozzer end, I wait at ze plane exit door, and zei bring ze cello öp to me." Fast forward to 2012, the era of security checks, scanners, vast hordes of travelers. The overworked airline employees have learned how to deal with wheelchairs, baby carriages, strollers, scooters, but a cello in a hard case? What is it? What to do? On this recent occasion I was teaching and giving master classes for a month in Italy. Again I took along my old Hungarian instrument, by now affectionately nicknamed my "Goulash" cello (since it was made up of so many mysterious ingredients of woods). New York to Rome went O.K. using the Jacques Français method. The trouble began on the return trip from Rome Fiumicino Airport. Trying to apply as much of Jacques' charm as I could muster, the beautiful Italian lady at the ticket counter was unmoved. "We have a special conveyor belt for oversized (like overweight people?) baggage. Your guitar will be fine." "Not acceptable", I demurred. The supervisor was called and, after much discussion, finally buckled. "Go to the gate. There they will give you a special receipt to put the cello on board." "Grazie mille", I replied. Ah, but I had not counted on the fact that a different company ran the security screening, and they were not beholden to the individual airlines. "We cannot let the cello pass without a seat ticket or a tag." It was classic "Catch-22", finally solved when the original supervisor was found and intervened. More corridors and escalators. The cello, stuffed with underwear, was getting heavier by the minute. At last I arrived at the check-in gate. Another beautiful young Italian lady at the counter. I could sense this was going to be a long haul: Though she had gorgeous eye makeup, her fingernails were far too long. This one never played a string instrument, certainly not a cello. No simpatico there! As the waiting line behind me grew longer by the minute, and between loudspeaker announcements of airline travel "specials," I explained that I was promised a gate receipt for my cello so that I could leave it, and then retrieve it at the end of the flight. "We have no such receipt," she said. "Please stand and wait right here" she admonished as she consulted with a series of bumbling supervisors. 45 minutes went by. It was near boarding time of the huge fully-booked plane. I was just about to start yelling, when she cooed, "I have a solution: it's in 2 parts. First, we'll let you board with your cello. If the on-board supervisor has room for it in his closet (fat chance!) you're all set. If not, he will tag it and take it below, and we'll bring it up to you on arrival." Hallelujah! And so it was that my cello was handed back to me safe-and-sound, with a geaming red tag marked wheelchair/scooter. Of course, all the New York customs agent could come up with was "what do you have in there, a machine-gun?" But it was good to be back. POSTED: NOVEMBER 12, 2012 , COPYRIGHT AND TRADEMARK This blog created, written and maintained by Harry Wimmer (hwimmer@wimmercello.com). Thanks to Shirley Givens sgivens@juilliard.edu for her imaginative illustrations. Design and content ©2006, 2007, 2012 by Harry Wimmer, Incidental Artwork ©2006, 2007, 2012 by Shirley Givens. All materials on this blog are limited to personal, non-commercial use. CelloBlogTM Trade Mark by Harry Wimmer

OTHER POSTS CHARLIE CHAPLIN - Left-handed Cellist and Composer BUXTE - W H O? Confessions of a Would-be Page Turner The Concert As A Meal The N.Y.Times Misses Out Again! Quack! Sir Michael Tippett in Carnegie Hall HARRY WIMMER ON BRAHMS: Sonata in E Flat Op.120 No.2 (Live) MENDELSSOHN: Sonata No. 1 in B Flat (Live) CHAPLIN-WIMMER: "Oh, That Cello! (Live) MENDELSSOHN-CASALS: Spring Song (Live) ARTICLES, CARTOONS The Virtuoso by Wilhelm Busch The Cello Concerto (anon.) Young Itzhak Perlman in Aspen Leonard Rose in Colo.Springs String Portraits by Shirley Givens Bach's C Minor Suite Was Written This Morning. Pablo Casals From Afar Michael Tippett Arrives inShorts Casals Lives On in Puerto Rico The Golden Treasure of San Juan Bach on the Bayou ABOUT HARRY WIMMER Bio from the"Joy of Cello Playing" website