The address of my childhood until I got married was Karlsplatz 3.

When I walked out of the rather grand entrance, through which horse drawn carriages had galloped a mere 120 years ago, and turned left, counting roughly five hundred steps, I would find myself standing before one of the most famous concert halls in the world: the Wiener Musikvereinssaal.

Growing up, I took this proximity to culture entirely for granted. Only after I moved to Los Angeles in late 1974 did I truly understand why our mother had chosen this neighborhood. Everything was at our fingertips, opera, concerts, art, so easily attainable, even at the last minute, often with standing room tickets.

There were times when I had not finished my homework and missed the first half of an opera or concert. I would calculate when the intermission might begin and arrive late. There was always a kind usher who........

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