Bejing (14.08.2010)

Peking has always been an imperial city. From the moment you enter its  

confines,  the wide and tree-lined boulevards, the towering and  

majestic skyscrapers announce the intentions of power and wealth. This  

is with certainty the beaming face of China that Westerners are meant  

to see. My first explorations took me to quite another quarter, to the  

hutongs - the living quarters of the working folk. This is the  modest  

but infinitely more  human side of the medallion. Families sat at  

their tables on the sidewalk preparing their meals on a table grill,  

while further on down the street men sat on the bare sidewalk slurping  

their noodles from tin bowls. Their were no other tourists on  these  

narrow and dusty lanes and no attempt at antiseptic renovation has  

been made here. The reason for this is simple: these ancient  

neighborhoods are doomed to soon make room for more shopping malls and  

hotels. I saw hutongs which had been closed off from the street with a  

wooden wall in preparation for imminent demolition. As a child I was  

horrified at the media reports of the rampant and senseless  

destruction of the "Cultural Revolution".  Today nobody is saying a  

word.

This isn't a city which can be absorbed in the two days we'll be  

spending here-but it's worth the effort to see as much as possible,  

before and after our concert. And, the way I know my colleagues, there  

will be as many impressions as there are people made in these few  

short hours to come. One memory, however, is one that I'm sure we'll  

all take home with us: wherever we go in this city, whether in the  

hotel lobby or on the subway walls: the Basel Symphony is omnipresent  

in Peking. Pictures of the orchestra, Mario and Huang Mengla greet us  

and the city wherever the eye can see. And that's when I'm sure: I'm  

not in Basel any more.