Gadgets seemed as a minute pantheon to my Swiss colleagues – cunning little mechanized things to remind Günther when take his milk and to tell Gürthe about changing weather patterns in the Seychelles Islands or to tell Gretl if her clacker shares went up a point in the last hour.  At lunch break, all the Swiss would take out their gadgets, creating an air of kindergarten ‘show and tell’. These little things to me are less like gods and more like unpleasant mosquitoes zipping around in search for tellerfertiger vein.  Quite frankly, it is this Swiss craze that lends an explanation for Needle Park in Zurich.  I have little patience for gadgets.  Gadgets and their accompanying manuals are to me Promethean droppings — to this day, I do not own a cell phone.  (Bees everywhere can breathe a sigh of relief.)  

I remember walking in Zurich one afternoon on a day off from work.  I went up to an elderly lady and asked her for the time.   “What?!!,” she exclaimed, “You don’t have a watch??”   Immediately, in a humanitarian gesture to cloak the clockless, she reached into her handbag and produced a fistful of swatches, giving me a choice of several.  I chose one with the Helvetian cross and gave her a chocolate as a sign of gratitude, apparently an even exchange.

That swatch fell out of my possession exactly 3 days later.

The reason for the extended stay in Switzerland was that I had a Stellung as the solo clarinetist of the Stadtorchester Winterthur.  (The name of this orchestra has been changed back its original name, Musikkollegium Winterthur as it was at its founding in 1629.)

The Reinhard Estate, Wintherthur

I lived on the famous Reinhard estate complete with coiffed gardens (reminiscent of Edward Scissorhands), gazebos, sculptures imported from India, marble pools, and the Römerholz Museum.  The estate sits majestically on an Alp, and seemingly far from the hum of the Altstadt and a healthy walk to the Stadthaus where the orchestra rehearses and often performs.   Many times we gave concerts in Zurich – the Fraumünsterkirche or the Tonhalle – and at such times a bus was chartered for the orchestra.   
   

If the bus were scheduled to leave at 4 p.m., it would leave exactly at 4 p.m.   This made me paranoid as hell, and my hitherto fore trustworthy clockishness seemed short-circuited in such a time-conscious backdrop as is Switzerland.   I would trek down the mountain to the Stadthaus and warm up at 3, and then nervously affix myself to a seat on the bus by 3:47.  There were no head counts.  Just a scheduled take off second that was respected as Sophocles respected Zeus.  Always Matthias, a Dutch violist, would pedal his bicycle up to the Stadthaus and arrive 10 seconds before 4.   He had been a member of the orchestra for some 10 years and was quite expert at thumbing his nose at Swiss punctuality in whatever subtle ways there were and still maintain de minimis punctuality.  

A Van Gogh moment

Ah yes — one time the guest conductor was left behind.   He had to scramble to find a car to get into Zurich.  He was late and therefore the concert started late.  Only in Switzerland – that was my favorite concert of the season.

Neil Rynston is a classical musician living in New York. To find out more about him and his projects, visit http://vistalirica.com