I Was At A Concert: Mendelssohn’s Elijah

Elijah

We meet Elijah in 1 Kings, chapter 17.  We don’t know where he comes from (he’s called “The Tishbite” but there isn’t anywhere called Tishbe anywhere in the Bible).  What we do know is that he’s come to call the King of Israel, Ahab, on his bullshit.  Ahab and his wife, Jezebel, rejected the God of the Israelites in favor of Baal (worship my Baals!), and with that decision comes consequences, including Elijah looking like a total bad ass while God miracles the shit out of Israel.  Elijah ascends to heaven in a fiery chariot.  Other notable Elijah facts: he was there at the transfiguration of Jesus; according to Malachi, Elijah will return before the “great and terrible day of the Lord,” which is to the say the First or Second Coming, depending on who’s reading.  With that in mind, Jews leave a cup of wine for him during the Passover seder in the hopes that he will:

a) claim his free booze

b) hasten the coming of the Lord’s paradisiacal reign on Earth

c) both of the above

We turn to Mendelssohn, who may have had a hard time deciding on whether that Coming was First or Second, being a Jew who converted to Lutheranism at the age of 7 (his grandfather, Moses, was one of the great Jewish philosophers of all-time).  Mendelssohn is widely credited with restoring Bach to his natural place at the top of the musical food chain, and surely there is some truth in that (he did conduct the first performance of the St. Matthew Passion since the death of Bach).

Perhaps more importantly than that, Mendelssohn used the influences of the Baroque masters Bach and Handel to craft two masterful oratorios with many nods to the stylings of his predecessors.  Elijah is probably the more famous of the two, for whatever that’s worth, and seems to be the more frequently performed.  I was happy to participate in my first performance of the piece.

The chorus was a new group in Kansas City: Musica Vocale.  They are a chorus of about 30 who managed to double in size through a complicated system of fusion, mitosis, and getting 30 more people to fill out the sound needed to compete with a Romantic orchestra.  Their conductor is Dr. Arnold Epley, who is retiring from teaching at William Jewell College at the end of the year.  I told Dr. Epley after the first rehearsal that he is the coolest conductor I have ever worked with, and I stand by that…he’s witty, had a great rapport with everybody in the room, and was organized enough to pull off a massive work like this in 2 rehearsals.  The final concert of their inaugural  season took place in Temple Beth Shalom on Sunday 10 May 2009. 

The solo quartet was comprised of the following: Ida Nicolosi, soprano; Martha Hart, mezzo soprano; Andrew Childs, tenor; and Douglas Williams, baritone in the title role.  All the soloists were terrific and brought a lot to the performance.  I thought Williams did a hell of a job…it sounded a couple times in the second half like his voice was on the verge of cracking epically, but he kept it together and it never sounded uncontrolled to my ears.  I was particularly impressed with Williams during some of Elijah’s angrier, nastier moments…Williams managed to get a little bit of growl in his sound which I dug (it reminded me of that old Bernstein/Ludwig/Berry Des Knaben Wunderhorn on Sony which has some kick-ass angry singing from Berry in Der Tamboursg’sell).   Nicolosi was also particularly noteworthy to me on the extended “Hear ye, Israel” aria that begins Part 2. 

I thought the chorus was rad.  I thought they did a bang-up job throughout.  Their was some tremendous dynamic contrast ranging through a story with a lot of ins, lot of outs, and the chorus seemed to relish the angry bits the way I would relish them, which is to say a lot. 

I also applaud the diction by everyone involved.  The performance was in English, and while the text was in the program, it was almost never needed to my ears.  I don’t think I’ve ever been associated with a performance involving chorus that featured cleaner articulating of words…it was refreshing.

The orchestra was a nice collection of freelance players from around town, and we did our part to make it a good performance.  On a personal level, I had some tremendous focus problems, particularly in the first half, and I salute the rest of the horn section for playing their parts well to keep me in the right spots.    

Dr. Epley seemed like he knew the score inside and out, had a clear idea of what he wanted, and made it happen in simple terms.  As someone who wishes he was a conductor, it was a great lesson in efficiency and management.  It was, seemingly due to budget restraints, slightly under-rehearsed; there were a couple moments (fermatas for example) that I don’t recall getting much of a look at and it led to some mixed results on the show (from myself as well).  But overwhelmingly it was a terrific interpretation with terrific results.

One last bit of effusiveness goes to Trilla Carter, who played principal cello and served as the orchestra ”contractor” which I put in quotes because I don’t know if it’s exactly the right term to use.  I’ve worked with dozens and dozens of personnel people with orchestras over the years, and many of them have been top notch.  Trilla Carter fits right in that lofty space for me.  Everything was handled smoothly, communication was great, the whole deal.  It’s always a great work enviornment when those responsible for coordinating things handle their business professionally and efficiently. 

It’s always fun to perform works with chorus and orchestra because they almost always have one thing in common: they’re epic.  Beethoven 9, Mahler 2, The Messiah, Gurrelieder, etc.  all bring with them a sense of dramatic scope that simply doesn’t exist in even the grandest of purely orchestral compositions (which isn’t to say it’s better or worse…Bruckner 9 certainly has a dramatic scope all its own, for example).  Elijah fits right in there in the grand tradition.  Which is one of the many reasons why I was pleased, if not slightly exhausted by the end, to have been at the concert.

10 Best: 5 Best: 20th-Century Operas

20th Century Opera in a nutshell

Opera in the 20th century became totally cool from a plot standpoint.  Gone were the days of a plot that really solves itself in 3 minutes but takes 2 and a half hours to get through (she loves WHO?!!), and in its place were plots about all kinds of fucked up shit, with music to match.

Because it was requested some moons ago by someone on something, I have decided to make another list, this time consisting of the 5 best operas of the 20th century.  “Why 5?”, you’re not asking yourself right now.  Frankly, it’s simple: I don’t feel like I know enough 20-century operas to pare down to 10, but I feel like I know enough to pare down to 5 while maintaining something resembling integrity.  With that in mind:

5) Porgy and Bess–George (and Ira…and Ira) Gershwin

If aliens come to Earth intent on destroying us, it is distinctly possible that we could shield ourselves from their hellish death rays and mind control by simply joining in a world wide chorus of “Summertime,” quite possibly the most versatile and oft-interpreted piece of music ever (Ella Fitzgerald, Janis Joplin, Sublime, AND The Zombies?).  But wait, there’s more.  “Bess, You Is My Woman Now,” “I Got Plenty o’ Nuttin’,” ”There’s a Boat Dat’s Leavin’ Soon for New York,” and on and on.  Sportin’ Life is one of the all-time great opera characters (conceived for Cab Calloway as if it weren’t already cool as hell).  And it’s historically relevant, casting an eye on the unseen side of life in the slums in the ’20’s.

Recommended Recording:  Even though it’s cheating the system a little bit, it has to the Miles Davis/Gil Evans disc. My Lord is it good.

4) The Nose–Dmitri Shostakovich

Before Shostakovich had cemented himself as one of the premier composers of the 20th or any other century, he operated in quite a different sound world.  The Nose comes from the pre-5th Symphony days (which seems to mark the cut-off point for a lot of things in Shostakovich) and more importantly squeaks in before Stalin came to power, which needs no further explanation; in fact, it lies between the 2nd and 3rd symphonies (as a reference point) and immediately precedes the infamous Nicolai Malko “bet you can’t re-orchestrate this from memory in an hour” Tahiti Trot challenge in Shostakovich’s opus numbers.

The music is a chaotic hodgepodge of styles, held together by strict musical forms (a concept we’ll see on this list again here shortly).  The libretto is based on a short story by Gogol, possibly the best writer in the history of Russia and assuredly the best writer in Russian history if you’re asking me.  It tells the story of a St. Petersburg official who manages to lose his nose and watches it achieve a greater social status than he himself before it magically re-attaches itself.  Gogol’s ability to write satire is matched by Shostakovich’s ability to create it in sound, an ability Shostakovich would use in his “mature” years to great effect.

Recommended Recording:  Rozhdestvensky/Moscow Chamber Theater/Leningrad Philharmonic in a recording of the folks who revived the opera after it was censored, overseen personally by Shostakovich himself.

3) Wozzeck–Alban Berg

The subject matter of this, Berg’s first opera, is quite literally enough to depress a person just by reading it: exploiting the poor (for the benefit of science!), jealousy, insanity, adultery, and the inevitable struggles of literally just existing.  The music itself is an amazing exploration of form, with each act being broken up into 5 scenes, and each scene being a unique form.  Because it’s such a rad plot and structured so awesome-rad, I’m going to just quote the WikiPedia synopsis, which explains the opera rather well.

Act I

Scene 1 (Suite): Wozzeck is shaving the Captain who lectures him for living an immoral life. Wozzeck protests that it is difficult to be virtuous when he is poor, but entreats the Captain to remember the lesson from the gospel, “”Laßet die Kleinen zu mir kommen!”" (“Suffer the little children to come unto me,” Mark 10:14). The Captain greets this admonition with pointed dismay.

Scene 2 (Rhapsody and Hunting Song): Wozzeck and Andres are cutting sticks as the sun is setting. Wozzeck has frightening visions and Andres tries unsuccessfully to calm him.

Scene 3 (March and Lullaby): A military parade passes by outside Marie’s room. Margret taunts Marie for flirting with the soldiers. Then Wozzeck comes by and tells Marie of the terrible visions he has had.

Scene 4 (Passacaglia): The Doctor scolds Wozzeck for not following his instructions regarding diet and behavior. However, when the Doctor hears of Wozzeck’s mental aberrations, he is delighted and congratulates himself on the success of his experiment.

Scene 5 (Rondo): Marie admires the Drum-major outside her room. He makes an advance on her, to which she first rejects but then gives in.

Act II

Scene 1 (Sonata-Allegro): Marie is telling her child to go to sleep while admiring earrings which the Drum-major gave her. She is startled when Wozzeck arrives and when he asks where she got the earrings, she says she found them. Though not convinced, Wozzeck gives her some money and leaves. Marie chastises herself for her behavior.

Scene 2 (Fantasia and Fugue on 3 Themes): The Doctor rushes by the Captain in the street, who urges him to slow down. The Doctor then proceeds to scare the Captain by speculating what afflictions may strike him. When Wozzeck comes by, they insinuate that Marie is being unfaithful to him.

Scene 3 (Largo): Wozzeck confronts Marie, who does not deny his suspicions. Enraged, Wozzeck is about to hit her, when she stops him, saying even her father never dared lay a hand on her. Her statement “better a knife in my belly than your hands on me” plants in Wozzeck’s mind the idea for his subsequent revenge.

Scene 4 (Scherzo): Among a crowd, Wozzeck sees Marie dancing with the Drum-major. After a brief hunter’s chorus, Andres asks Wozzeck why he is sitting by himself. An Apprentice delivers a drunken sermon, then an Idiot approaches Wozzeck and cries out that the scene is “”Lustig, lustig…aber es riecht …Ich riech, ich riech Blut!”" (“joyful, joyful, but it reeks…I smell, I smell blood”).

Scene 5 (Rondo): In the barracks at night, Wozzeck, unable to sleep, is keeping Andres awake. The Drum-major comes in, intoxicated, and rouses Wozzeck out of bed to fight with him.

Act III

Scene 1 (Invention on a Theme): In her room at night, Marie reads to herself from the Bible. She cries out that she wants forgiveness.

Scene 2 (Invention on a Single Note (B)): Wozzeck and Marie are walking in the woods by a pond. Marie is anxious to leave, but Wozzeck restrains her. As a blood-red moon rises, Wozzeck becomes determined that if he can’t have Marie, no one else can, and he stabs her.

Scene 3 (Invention on a Rhythm): People are dancing in a tavern. Wozzeck enters, and upon seeing Margret, dances with her and pulls her onto his lap. He insults her, and then asks her to sing him a song. She sings, but then notices blood on his hand and elbow; everyone begins shouting at him, and Wozzeck, now agitated and obsessed with his blood, rushes out of the tavern.

Scene 4 (Invention on a 6-Note Chord): Having returned to the murder scene, Wozzeck becomes obsessed with the thought that the knife he killed Marie with will incriminate him, and throws it into the pond. When the blood-red moon appears again, he wades into the pond and drowns. The Captain and the Doctor, passing by, hear Wozzeck moaning and rush off in fright. The orchestra rise during the drowning is quoted in Luciano Berio’s “Sinfonia” (1968–69).

Intermezzo (Invention on a Key (D minor)): This interlude leads to the finale.

Scene 5 (Invention on an Eighth-Note moto perpetuo, quasi toccata): Next morning, children are playing in the sunshine. The news spreads that Marie’s body has been found, and they all run off to see, except for Marie’s little boy, who after an oblivious moment, follows after the others.

Hop hop.

Recommended Recording: Claudio Abbado/Vienna State Opera

2) Salome–Richard Strauss

Sometimes when you baptize Jesus, you totally become famous.  So much so that chicks start demanding your decapitation as a test for the creepy desires of their stepdad.  Salome is based on the Bible by way of Oscar Wilde (that’s weird to type), and has everything you’d ever want in an opera, including nudity (which is great unless Birgit Nilsson happens to be in town), shield-crushing, veils, and King Herod.  Strauss’ music is Strauss’ music, which is to say lush, evocative, and entertaining.  The “Dance of the Seven Veils” is one of the great pieces of music, evidenced by the fact that it’s excerpted all the time, and the final scene is the craziest soprano lunacy this side of Brunnhilde taking a perfectly good horse with her into a huge fire.  There’s something about the shock value that occurs when the story unravels…no matter how many times you see it, and you know what’s coming, you still feel completely repulsed, terrified, and enthralled all at once.  Think of it as the Maury Povich “Who’s the father?” episode of opera.  Shit, I should make an opera out of the transcript of one those…a new project born right before your very eyes.  Your very eyes!

Recommended Recording: Karajan/Vienna Philharmonic and the only Jokaanan worth really sinking your teeth into…or cutting the head off of…Jose van Dam.

1) Bluebeard’s Castle–Bela Bartok

The beauty lies in the simplicity (that’s fucking ingenious if I understand it correctly, Walter…it’s a Swiss fucking watch).  2 onstage characters, 1 large set, 1 act, 1 hour.  Bluebeard elopes with his new wife, Judith, and takes her back to his sweet pad (the importance of the castle is duly noted by Bartok, who actually lists it on the dramatis personae list…which is cool and creepy at the same time).  Once there, Judith wants some natural light and begs Bluebeard to open some doors, but he refuses.  She keeps nagging him until he gives in, making their relationship just like every other relationship ever, and we start seeing shit behind doors.

The doors and rooms all have colors associated with them, as follows:

1. (The torture chamber) Blood-red
2. (The armory) Yellowish-red
3. (The treasury) Golden
4. (The garden) Bluish-green
5. (The kingdom) White
6. (The pool of tears) Darkness; the main hall is darkened, as if a shadow had passed over
7. (The wives) Silvery

Blood stains everything she sees, and her mind begins to piece everything together.  By the time she sees the pool of tears, she knows what’s up, but demands to see the 7th door opened.  If there was anything that would be cooler than Bluebeard having killed all his wives…it would be making them wear heavy-ass jewelry and crowns and shit, worshipping them, forcing Judith to join them, and then locking them up (I hope my girlfriend isn’t reading this…I don’t have a castle anyway).

The minor second plays a huge role musically…they call it the blood motif, as you hear it anytime Judith notices blood on Bluebeard’s stuff.  There is a broad arching key structure of F# moving to C and back to F# which some people apparently think represents darkness and light, and which, now that I think about it, makes perfect sense.  That type of synergy is what makes this the best opera of the 20th century…it has so many awesome puzzles in it, it’s as ominous a story as you can imagine, and it has the benefit of Bartok at his “A” game.

Recommended Recording: Istvan Kertesz/London Symphony with Christa Ludwig as Judith and Walter Berry as Bluebeard, and also Walter Berry looking VERY suspiciously like a modern day Bluebeard taking women back to his apartment and acting inappropriately on the Decca Legends cover photo.

There it is.  I issue apologies to every Britten opera, Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk District, Elektra, The Rake’s Progress, Lulu, Der Rosenkavalier, Ariadne auf Naxos, Rusalka, Tosca, Jenufa, The Golden Cockerel (the suite is one of my all-time favorite pieces, though), The Love for Three Oranges, The Rise and Fall of the City of Mahogany, Moses und Aron, Antony and Cleopatra, Turandot, Die tote Stadt, and The Cunning Little Vixen.  I literally immediately regret my list not having Britten or Janacek on it.  But it’s too late…I’m already wearing the heavy-ass jewelry.

N*ggas Try To Be The King, But The Ace Is Back

As someone who studies, performs, and enjoys classical music, you might be surprised to learn that my 2nd favorite genre of music is rap.  As someone who has said “fuck” more in the last 5 minutes than everyone reading this sentence combined has in the last month, you might not be as surprised to learn that my 2nd favorite genre of music is rap.

While I may be able to present my thoughts and opinions about some incredibly obscure piece of music or composer I may have encountered (who’s excited about my forthcoming post on George Templeton Strong’s ‘Sintram’ Symphony?!) the way only a true pseudo-intellectual can, I cannot do the same for rap music.  I’m not incredibly familiar with a lot of rap music outside the stream just east of the mainstream (although I know enough to know that Immortal Technique is clinically insane and that Del the Funkee Homosapien says “motherfucker” better than anyone except Paul Giamatti in the Howard Stern movie), but I feel at least competent enough to have an opinion, which is why I’m writing this.

The role of the rap producer is an interesting one, and one that has taken on great significance in the last 10 years or so.  The lyrics are obviously huge, and we all love the Eminems, Ludacrises, and Jay-Zs of the world for the great rappers (and lyricists) they are.  But the question of “who made that beat?” has created a mystique around the producer that seems to grow larger and larger.

I love Kanye West as much as the next guy, and all of his albums have been terrific, in my opinion.  The same goes for Pharrell Williams, who has produced some of my absolute favorite songs (I still think “When The Last Time” by Clipse is probably the best beat ever).  I’ve never been all that much into Timbaland, but he’s produced some incredibly successful shit as well.  I’ve always liked Rick Rubin, at least in part because I think I could look like him if I tried.

But, for me, the undisputed king of producers is Dr. Dre.  There is no discussion.  He is to rap producing what Jerry Rice is to the concept of being a wide receiver.  He produced Straight Outta Compton.  He produced Doggystyle.  He produced The Chronic.  He produced 2001.  He produced The Marshall Mathers LP and Encore.  The songs he’s produced would make anyone’s iPod fully decked out: Nothin’ But A G Thang, Let Me Ride, No Diggity, Forgot About Dre, Let Me Blow Ya Mind, and on and on and on………needless to say, he’s a legend, and the best at what he does.

All of this is simply to say that when I heard the upcoming single from Eminem’s new album, Relapse, entitled We Made You, and enjoyed the shit out of it, I assumed it was thanks to the good Dr.  I was correct.  Another Dre classic.  Do enjoy.

The Conductor Who Just Might Save Us All

Gianandrea Noseda

In much the same way that I’ll occasionally get on a kick of listening to a particular composer at length (the latest was my journey through Varese), I will often get on a kick listening to a conductor.  This sort of exploration inevitably leads to creating favorites among the ranks of conductors throughout history, with my current (although it’s been this way for as long as I care to remember) favorites being Otmar Suitner, Kiril Kondrashin, and Takashi Asahina.  One thing you’ll notice about all three of these gentlemen, should you care to notice, is that their heydays were 30 years ago.  Which is sometime around when conducting died a slow and painful death.

Somewhere in the 80’s, which brought us Reaganomics, yuppies, New Wave, and me, in no particular order, conducting lost its way.  People tell me there’s a great generation of conductors in there…names like Abbado, Chailly, Muti, Dutoit…I’ll just say: at least we still had Bernstein and Karajan at the end of their lives, with Haitink and Boulez lurking in there somewhere (Amsterdam and a basement filled with computer shit, respectively).

Quite frankly, there has been virtually no reason to seek out the work of today’s generation of conductors.  It isn’t because they’re talentless hacks…far from it.  But for one reason or another, there doesn’t seem to be much substance to match their obvious style.  I have heard flashes of brilliance from many of the new popular maestros: a terrific, if angular, reading of Bruckner 9 conducted by Gustavo Dudamel; a tremendous Bruckner 3 led by Andris Nelsons; several great performances from Manfred Honeck, the new leader of the heroes in Pittsburgh.  But overwhelmingly, my enthusiasm is tempered with further investigation of their conducting.  That’s my super-scientific process in a nutshell…listen to a boat load, shit load, or boat shit (as my mother would say) of their work and see just how much of it I like.

Thanks to a tip from my friend Ken Woods, I have been in exploration mode again, this time with conductor Gianandrea Noseda.  Maestro Woods clued me in to a performance of the Rachmaninov Symphony no. 1 that blew my hair off, so I picked it up from there.  Since then, I’ve gone back and listened to a performance from Pittsburgh I recorded a while back with a stellar reading of Liszt’s Orpheus, the Tschaikovsky Violin Concerto (featuring the violinist most likely to save us Leonidas Kavakos in a bad ass performance), and a rip-your-face-off run through The Pines of Rome. You can listen to these performances if you’d like:

Part 1, Part 2

There’s also been an amazing Adagio from Mahler 10, kick-ass Les Preludes, terrific Schumann 4, and I am listening to a gripping Pictures at an Exhibition as I type this.

Noseda could save us, us being listeners and fans of great music.  He’s currently the Chief Conductor of the BBC Philharmonic.  He should be the Chief of anywhere he wants.  Remember his name.  We need him.

BAM! Rejected!

Rejected!

 

Another round of applications out from me, the beginning of another round of rejection letters in to me.  I used to keep track of what I applied for, if there even was a response, and, if there was one, what it was.  I don’t do that anymore, but perhaps I should consider reinstating it for the hell of it.  My greatest regret is not saving all these letters so that I could create a papier-mache effigy of myself, call it “Rejected!” and possibly get it showcased in an art museum…although if I were to approach someone about displaying my work, I would more than likely get a rejection letter.  I’ll leave some space on the back to add on.

Unfortunately, conducting has turned into Heath Ledger to my Jake Gyllenhaal…I wish I could quit it.  It’s simply far too compelling to me on a personal level.  I don’t have the experience, I’m not good enough, I don’t have the money to be able to attend various workshops and conferences, I’ve only been in KC for about 9 months, so I don’t know enough people to try and start my own small group just yet…the list goes on.  Excuses, excuses, and I don’t especially buy into any of them myself, but sometimes when I just sit back and look at them, it makes so much more sense to try and get into retail management or janitorial work.

This particular one stung more than normal because I actually felt somewhat decent about my chances to get a shot.  I had worked with the ensemble in the past and knew some members of the search committee, and tried to convey my love for my time with the group as best I could in my materials.  Unfortunately for me (terrific for them, though), they had an enormous amount of applications for the position by people far more qualified than I, and I didn’t make it much further than the trash can (and rightly so when I heard about some of the candidates…I’m happy for the group that they have such a good pool to choose from). 

I have some other applications out there awaiting a response or lack thereof, but I already know how those are going to go, so I’m basically just looking forward to getting a piece of mail with my name on it, which can be fun. 

Just thought it would be fun to share this wonderful part of my world!

Something To Listen To: Louis Langree & The Pittsburgh Symphony

Dmitri Shostakovich

When I was in grad school I did a theoretical analysis of the Symphony no. 11 by Dmitri Shostakovich, after being introduced to the piece by my conducting teacher.  I became fascinated with and consumed by the piece because it is as intense as music gets and it has a theatricality (did I just make up that word?) that is unlike anything I have ever heard.  As the cliche goes, a movie simply wouldn’t be as good if there were no music to underline the emotions at work, which is true.  But now imagine music that is so vivid and so dynamic that were you to attempt to actually express the music in the form of a film, you would probably erase the power of the imagery at work in the score.  That is the 11th.

Subtitled ‘The Year 1905′, it tells the story of the “Bloody Sunday” of 9 January 1905, when Russian troops massacred somewhere in the neighborhood of 1000 unarmed, peaceful demonstrators outside the Winter Palace in St. Petersburg.  The first movement, Winter Palace, sets the scene…cold, wintry, still, uneasy, charged.  For 15 minutes, you are held completely gripped in this scene, waiting.  It’s absolutely amazing.  The second movement, 9 January, is a musical depiction of the massacre, complete with some trademark Shostakovich snare drumming, frantic strings and woodwinds, overpowering brass.  It is completely relentless music, never losing intensity for 20 minutes, including a fugato that builds to one of the great climaxes in the repertoire.  The third movement, In Memoriam, is exactly what it sounds like…a memorial to the victims.  It is tremendously tragic, moving, and powerful.  It all builds to the fourth movement, The Alarm, a ”look-the-fuck-out” message from the people to the Tsar that is a driving, forceful barrage, only interrupted by an extended, beautiful English Horn solo that precedes one of the coolest endings in all of music, with loud-ass chimes, 5/4 bars, D major chords, and repeated snare drum figures.  If anyone has ever seen the movie “The Limey” you’ll recognize the following line that I always seem to conjure when hearing this movement:

You tell them I’m coming.  Tell them I’m FUCKING COMING!

The menace, the threat, and the promise of this music was indeed fulfilled twelve years and one symphony later, in the 1917 revolution.  The 11th is one of the great masterpieces of the symphonic repertoire…an absolute must-hear.  The performance linked here is one of the best performances of this work I’ve heard…truly inspiring in its energy, scope, and power.  Langree is not someone I was familiar with prior to this concert, but I will be seeking out more of his work based on this performance.  I dare say that it is on a par with the great Russian masters’ readings that I discovered this music through…high praise.  The Pittsburgh Symphony, as per usual, kicks serious ass.

The rest of the concert consisted of Mozart.  The Masonic Funeral Music opened the concert, in another fine performance.  A brief note from Dr. Bernhard Paumgartner, founding member of the Salzburg Festival and eminent Mozart biographer:

  The Masonic Funeral Music holds a place all its own among Mozart’s works, not only for its form and homogeneity, for the ingenious choice of the instruments and their exquisite technical treatment, but also through the unique grouping of a solemn march around the fundamental element of a gregorian chorale. Mozart very accurately penned the Cantus Firmus on a separate leaf in order to avoid errors in the elaboration. According to Heimsoeth the first five bars of this melody (bar 25-29) are identical with the first Psalm tone with the first Difference after the Cologne Antiphonary. What follows is a local compilation of several Psalm tones for the ‘Miserere mei Deus’ — a Penitential psalm such as is frequently used for funerals in several places.

This music reminds me in all the good ways about the dark parts of Don Giovanni and the amazing musical atmospheres Mozart can create.  While I don’t think it’s fair to say this music is neglected, it is fair to say that it should be performed more, because it is a fantastic work.  A great way to set the tone for this concert.

 

Garrick Ohlsson joined the fray for a nicely crafted performance of the Piano Concerto no. 27.  The music isn’t flashy, it isn’t always bright, but it shows a composer who has completely mastered every single aspect of writing a piano concerto.  Unlike a lot of Mozart’s music, which was popular enough to be premiered on concerts featuring nothing but Mozart’s music, by this time his popularity had waned sufficiently to the point that it was premiered, at least according to legend, by Mozart on a concert featuring clarinettist Joseph Bahr (although it appears that it may actually have been premiered by one of Mozart’s students 3 months earlier).  Regardless, the music stands up to anything else Mozart wrote.  The performance here is worth hearing for Ohlsson’s sensitive playing, particularly the third movement, which sounds nicely (and, dare I say, “correctly”) understated, IMO.

 

Now, the technical info.  It was recorded from WQED’s stream and converted to three 256K mp3 files and put into one RAR file.  Download available from RapidShare here:

http://rapidshare.com/files/209761040/PittsburghSO3-15-09.rar

These concerts took place 6 & 8 June 2008 in Heinz Hall, Pittsburgh.  Do enjoy this wonderful concert…it is absolutely worth every second.

10 Best: Concertos

Or concerti to the informed, pedantic wordsmith.

This week I played a concert featuring the Dvorak Cello Concerto, played fabulously by a gentleman named Matt Johnson, a member of the Kansas City Symphony.  Very musical, sweet tone, good approach to the piece…I enjoyed it immensely.  It got me thinking to myself…

What if I were to combine my love for music with my love for ranking things and compiling lists in an entirely subjective fashion?  We needn’t wonder what that would look like any longer, because I intend to start right now with a look at the 10 Best Concertos.

When I was a young, inexperienced horn player, I would often complain that the concert halls were constantly filled with solo appearances by violin, cello, and piano.  My reasoning was simple: they’re flashier instruments than horn, trumpet, oboe, or flute.  It wasn’t very long that I discovered the truth: the music written for the big 3 solo instruments is light years better than most everything else.  There are some exceptions, but overwhelmingly the music is of vastly superior quality.

My ranking system is based on many complicated factors, ranging from how I feel about these works to how I feel about these works in relation to one another to how I feel when I perform or listen to these works.  Bearing that sophisticated criteria in mind:

Honorary #11

Carl Maria von Weber–Concertino for Horn and Orchestra

Because it has to be listed somewhere, I’m making an honorary no. 11.  If you don’t know this piece, look into it.  Terribly difficult for the soloist (IMO much more so than other examples like the Gliere or Strauss 2nd), but genuinely one of the most delightful pieces of music regardless of period, style, or genre.  And as if charm weren’t enough, Weber uses multiphonics in the cadenza, where by the hornist plays a pitch and hums a note at the same time to create chords…only about 120 years ahead of its time.

Recommended recording: Hermann Baumann, Masur/Gewandhausorchester Leipzig

#10

Elgar–Cello Concerto

Purportedly an introspective look at the feelings Elgar was dealing with while confronting the post WWI scene and his own mortality, it certainly is a burdensome work in many respects, but in all good ways.  At times heavy, at times lighter than an insect, at all times filled with Elgar’s mastery of texture and orchestration, and a great solo part.  A glass case of emotions…anybody?

Recommended recording: Jacqueline du Pre, Barbirolli/London Symphony

#9

Robert Schumann–Piano Concerto

It’s hard to imagine a more arresting beginning to a piece of music…huge chord, awesome descending line in the solo piano, gorgeous oboe melody (when is an oboe melody not gorgeous?).  Quite literally a perfectly constructed piece, perfectly paced, and with a perfect balance between solo and orchestra.  Why is it ranked 9th?  I don’t know.

Recommended recording: Sviatoslav Richter, Matacic/Monte Carlo National Orchestra

#8

Samuel Barber–Violin Concerto

The 2nd movement is in the running for best movement on this list (what was that about gorgeous oboe melodies?), but the whole concerto is bad ass.  Like most everyone else, I find the 3rd movement a little disjointed in comparison to everything before it, but it’s also about the most exciting 4 minute moto perpetuo you’ll ever hear.

Recommended recording: Elmar Oliveira, Slatkin/St. Louis Symphony

#7

Alexander Arutiunian–Trumpet Concerto

Insane?  Yes.  But it is my favorite wind concerto, bar none.  Written for the unrivaled king of Russian trumpet players, Timofei Dokschitzer, it has everything you’d want: flash, drama, huge trumpet sound, some really sweet legatos, and an awesome cadenza.  It doesn’t hurt that the beginning grabs you by the throat and holds on for the entire 20 minutes.  Look into this, stat.

Recommended recording: Timofei Dokschitzer, Rozhdestvensky/Bolshoi Theater Orchestra

#6

Pitor Ilyich Tschaikovsky–Violin Concerto

Dismissed as too difficult by a few soloists, Adolph Brodsky (yes, THE Adolph Brodsky) premiered the piece with Hans Richter in 1881.  Eduard Hanslick thought it sucked, but he thought Wagner sucked too, so he’s kind of an idiot on occasion.  Turns out they were right about it being difficult, but it’s also awesome.  A good friend once compared this piece to a blonde porn star with huge, probably fake boobs, and I like that comparison (not so crazy about blondes or huge, fake boobs, but whatever).  Flashy, yes, but popular with good reason.

Recommended recording: David Oistrakh, Rozhdestvensky/Moscow Radio Symphony (DVD)

#5

Dmitri Shostakovich–Piano Concerto no. 1

Written early in his career, before his friends all got killed and Stalin was mean to him (as a wise man once told me).  Which only proves that he could write heart-wrenching and satirical music regardless of the political circumstances.  ALMOST a double concerto, but at any rate featuring a prominent trumpet part.  The last movement quotes Haydn, marking a meeting of two of the all-time satirists in music history.  This piece is gold.

Recommended recording: Mikhail Rudy, Jansons/Berlin Philharmonic/Ole Edvard Antonsen

#4

Sergei Rachmaninov–Piano Concerto no. 2

Popular with Hollywood, appearing in almost a dozen films, including the dreaful Spider-Man 3. Written after Rachmaninov had overcome writer’s block and a little bit of clincial depression for good measure.  The 1st movement might belie that a little bit, but the 3rd movement is quite simply one of the most alluring movements in all of music, with a theme as eminently whistlable as the Mendelssohn Violin Concerto, the standard for classical whistling.

Recommended recording: Jeno Jando, Lehel/Budapest Symphony

#3

Johannes Brahms–Violin Concerto

On the subject of pieces being perfect…  Like so much of what Brahms wrote, this is perfect.  Great orchestral introduction, the greatest solo entrance in the repertoire, and a huge movement constructed with a complete mastery of form.  Beautiful 2nd movement (with a gorgeous oboe melody!), and a gypsy-ish 3rd movement which I almost always associate with There Will Be Blood now (I’M FINISHED!).  I feel guilty not ranking this #1, and I’m not entirely sure I’m comfortable not doing so, but my gut is huge and tells me otherwise…

Recommended recording: Nathan Milstein, Steinberg/Pittsburgh Symphony

#2

Antonin Dvorak–Cello Concerto

A piece to be admired for a variety of reasons, not the least of which is conviction.  Written for the composer’s cello-playing friend Hanus Wihan (with some input from Victor Herbert, the Babes in Toyland dude!), Dvorak emphatically rejected the suggestions made by his friend after the premiere (most notably for a cadenza in the 3rd movement).  Good call, because it’s an amazing piece as is.  Tuneful, grand, folksy, everything you love about Dvorak.

Recommended recording: Mstislav Rostropovich, Karajan/Berlin Philharmonic

#1

Jean Sibelius–Violin Concerto

An incredible journey.  The 1st movement sounds absolutely 1000% like what I imagine Finland to look like…desolate, peaceful, turbulent, icy.  It’s a really haunting movement all around, and yet it has that borderline cartoonish 2nd section with the bouncy flute melody.  But that’s why we love Sibelius.  Beautiful 2nd movement.  The 3rd movement has more energy in 7 minutes than some composers mustered in their entire careers.  And the last 2 minutes of the concerto are almost certainly the music that will usher in the return of Jesus, assuming he takes the form of Lemminkäinen somehow.  They sound brutally unplayable, and yet also the baddest ass shit ever in the hands of a master.

Recommended recording: Jascha Heifetz, Hendl/Chicago Symphony

Let the record show that I acknowledge: the Haydn Cello Concerti, the Mendelssohn Violin Concerto, the Beethoven Violin Concerto and, frankly, all 5 piano concerti, 2 dozen Mozart concerti for various instruments, the Grieg Piano Concerto, the rest of the Rachmaninov piano concerti, the Berg Violin Concerto, the Shostakovich and Prokofiev violin and cello concerti (or Sinfonia Concertante in Prokofiev’s case), a lot of Bach and Vivaldi, the Brahms Double, and the Ravel G major.  Also let the record show that Schelomo isn’t a concerto, which is how I’ll be able to sleep tonight.

See you next time I randomly list 10 things I the order of my choosing!

I Was At A Concert: The Pendleton Mahler 5–A Diseased Report

OES

I just returned home from traveling to my old stomping grounds, hanging out with my old roommates, doing the job I did in my old life.  I flew to Portland, got to see my family for about 4 hours (which was both terrific and terrible in how little time there was), and then met up with my good friends James and Rebekah to crash on their boat for the night.  The geese that swam up as we came near the dock were always there to hiss at us, which was adorable.  We rolled out to Pendleton to ready the preparations for the Mahler 5 with the Oregon East Symphony Thursday.

It was nice to be back in Pendleton…it had been a couple years since I’d been there, and there were some familiar faces there, although they become less familiar when you’re no longer an active member of the musical circle, through no one’s fault.  At any rate, I had the Rainbow’s Pressure Fried Chicken, so my trip proved fruitful whether I played a note or not, and I didn’t eat it like a pansy, either…no forks and knives.  You could literally burn a hole in your lips from the juices, but such is the price one must pay to maintain any semblance of cowboy spirit, lest he be called out mercilessly, almost without end, by the townspeople.  I’m afraid a friend and colleague walked down this path and ended up with a stern talking-to.

One other thing to note before actually talking about the music…I was sick as a dog that is sick within 6 hours of arriving in Pendleton.  I don’t know what hit me, but I’m still not over it, and am in fact typing this while not working today, the very definition of a blessing in disguise.  Suffice it to say that while the large majority of the orchestra was cavorting together about town and enjoying one another’s company, I was enjoying the company of the heater on the bathroom floor of our homestay with the good doctors, who celebrated their anniversary on the day of the performance, by the way.  I battled wicked chills all weekend, lots of congestion, headaches, etc. but still enjoyed myself on the whole.

The performance itself turned out to be rather good.  I’ve had the good fortune of participating in other parts of the OES Mahler cycle (although I foolishly skipped the Mahler 2, which I forever kick myself for), and I personally think the performance of the 5th was the high water mark in the series.  There was a pretty stellar crowd there, and they seemed to dig the show a lot.

On a personal horn level, we fucking rocked the shit.  The principal/obbligatoist was Lydia van Dreel from the University of Oregon, and I officially declare her a bad ass.  Real easy to play with, too, which is key, because there’s an awful lot of teamwork as a section.  I’m not even going to bother mentioning specific examples of our collective shit-rocking, but perhaps when Maestro Woods finishes the recording I’ll toss the link up here for peeps to listen to and confirm what I’m saying.  We weren’t alone…

The trumpets were also rad, as was the percussion.  The bass drum, played by a sweet woman whose name is totally escaping me right now because I’m a forgetful dumbass, was off-the-charts good.  The four-measure solo at the end of the Scherzo was one of the most musical things I’ve ever heard…precise, menacing, crisp, soft, driving…not bad for a piano teacher.  The best string section I’d ever heard in Pendleton was there, too…terrific Adagietto, and a good job all around.  It’s notey music.

Maestro’s take on the symphony was in many respects different from my perceptions and feelings on it, but it still worked tremendously.  It’s easy to enjoy, accept, and understand an interpretation that may be vastly different from your own ideas when you know the amount of preparation, thought, and work that goes into it.  I don’t know the preparation, thought, and work levels of everybody, but I’ve decided for myself now more than ever that THAT is the great divider between good and bad conducting.  Technique is important, communication is important, rapport with orchestra, audience, board, etc. is important, but nothing trumps the very basic, although probably often overlooked, concept of just being uber-fucking-prepared.  Knowing Ken well enough to know what he puts into it makes it far easier to understand his decisions.  I only hope when my opportunity arises to conduct this piece my preparation will be sufficient to make my interpretation as understandable as his.  I salute him on a top-notch show.

That was more than likely my last ever go-round with the OES as a horn player, and what a way to go.  I will have several nice memories from that performance with me for years.  I’m keeping my fingers crossed as many times as my knuckles will allow that I’ll get an opportunity to audition for the conducting gig there, although having heard about some of the other applicants for the position, I’m readying a prominent spot on the roof of my fort made of rejection letters…it’s warm in here.  But that’s for another time.

In the meantime, thanks to Ken, Christina, Pendleton, James and Rebekah, the Doctors, Mahler, Southwest Airlines, my family, the bartender at Hamley’s who made two very nice Caucasians, Fran from The Health Nuts who when asked if she would be coming to the concert on Sunday said matter-of-factly, “I like country-and-western music,” Lydia, Michelle, Steve, Nathan, my new facebook amigo Roy, who is a chilled out awesome dude, Kenny for being enthusiastic about horn and for being enthusiastic about having jumper cables to start James’ car, the Mullers for letting the rest of the world as we knew it that evening that tri-tip is the greatest cut of meat in existence, and everyone else who helped make it a kick-ass run.  I hope to see you down the road sometime, Pendle-Vegas.  And even though I had a contractual obligation to be there, it was my pleasure, as an active participant, to be at a concert.

Recordings: Cheating or Research?

Yevgeny Mravinsky Conducts Shostakovich's 5th

Having had the opportunity to study conducting with some extremely refined and intelligent musicians in my short time, I have noticed a pattern that echoes through the halls of eternal teaching: don’t listen to recordings when you’re studying a score.

Now, I preface this entire post, with the exception of that amazing first paragraph you just read, by saying that I agree with this philosophy, in a vacuum.  So many times recordings provide an imprint on us as musicians and we cannot hear them another way, think of them another way, or distance ourselves from them, which is obviously a problem.  For example, my first experience with Mysterious Mountain by Hovhaness was the classic Reiner/Chicago Symphony recording, which has a generally broader tempo range than any other recording I’ve heard, especially in the first movement.  And I’ve gotten to the point where I damn near refuse to accept anything other than Reiner’s tempo.  I’ve never had the chance to study the score, but I hope when that time comes I’m able to distance myself from my memories, because it’s a recipe for disaster.

The reason I bring this up now is because over the last several years I’ve been particularly keen to the balance recordings try to walk in relation to the Symphony no. 5 of Shostakovich, especially as regards the tempo of the coda in the finale.  It reared its head again last evening when I was listening to a performance featuring the Concertgebouworkest conducted by Jaap van Zweden.  It was a fine performance overall (Zweden has been virtually touring the galaxy with this piece in tow lately), but the coda left a lot to be desired, for me.  I echo these same sentiments in regards to a performance with Lorin Maazel and the New York Philharmonic I also heard recently.

The tempo of this coda is the subject of much debate.  In the score it is marked to be played slowly.  Shostakovich is said to have “authorized” a basic doubling of the tempo when in rehearsal with Leonard Bernstein.  Of course, you can try to have your cake and eat it too by trying to play the middle somewhere.  So what’s right?

If you guessed “there is no correct answer,” I guess you’re probably right.  But this is where the legacy of recordings comes into play and I struggle with this entire concept.  When I attended a conducting workshop in 2007, we discussed the de facto ban on recordings in a seminar, and I asked if recordings weren’t, in fact, documents that should contribute to your research of the music.  I don’t think I explained myself well at all, but the answer was essentially…not so much.

But why?  Take the recorded history of this piece.  When considering the coda taken at a fast tempo, you find names like Bernstein, Ormandy, Maazel, Haitink etc.  When considering the “have your cake and eat it too” approach, you find names like Ashkenazy, Jansons, Alsop, etc.  When considering the slow tempo, you find names like Mravinsky, Kondrashin, Rostropovich.  One need not be a scholar to see which group of names sticks out there.

Mravinsky and Kondrashin combined to premiere more than half of Shostakovich’s symphonies.  They both maintained significant relationships with him throughout their careers.  Rostropovich, as everyone knows, was one of Shostakovich’s closest friends.  They all lived, breathed, and experienced firsthand the Russian history that is inexorably intertwined with Shostakovich’s music.  To paraphrase my mother, “perhaps I’m the asshole here,” but it seems downright foolish not to consider these recordings when doing your research on the score.

Let the record show that this aspect of research should only be done after you have completed your own study of the score…as I said before, this I agree with.  But recordings, to me, are a tool of immeasurable value when “doing your homework” on a piece of music.

Stravinsky was a terrible conductor of his own music, in my opinion, but you’d be insane not to give a listen to the old CBS set of the man himself conducting his greatest orchestral works.  Mahler left us with some piano rolls, notably of the first movement of the Fifth Symphony, and it would be just slackerish to not investigate them.

For those curious to hear the recording that brought this bloody catastrophe of a blog post out of me, I will include the links here…follow the same steps as last time.  The remainder of the concert was interesting and a good listen, including a very fine reading of the Barber Violin Concerto with soloist Vesko Eschkenazy.

http://rapidshare.com/files/199846421/Zweden-Concertgebouworkest.rar.001

http://rapidshare.com/files/199853073/Zweden-Concertgebouworkest.rar.002

http://rapidshare.com/files/199846519/Zweden-Concertgebouworkest.rar.003

http://rapidshare.com/files/199860913/Zweden-Concertgebouworkest.rar.004

And for a means of comparison, here are essentially the two opposing takes on the coda in question from two of the greatest masters we’ll ever know:

Leonard Bernstein, New York Philharmonic

Yevgeny Mravinsky, Leningrad Philharmonic

Something To Listen To: Lorin Maazel & The Pittsburgh Symphony in Mahler’s Symphony no. 7

Gustav Mahler

Those who know me even a little bit know that I love Mahler.

Those who know me slightly better than that know that if I had a gun to my head asking which symphony I like most, I would say the Seventh, although I might just be saying that to save myself long enough to get home to listen to the Ninth.

Those who know me even better than that know that I love the Pittsburgh Symphony going back to the William Steinberg days on through until today.

And those who know my innermost secrets know I don’t really care all that much for Lorin Maazel, having in fact been made fun of by a musical friend of tremendous gifts for recommending his 1960’s Sibelius cycle (it was only $20 at the time!).

But I owe Lorin Maazel a few thanks.  He helped “re-put” the Pittsburgh Symphony on the musical map when he was Music Director in the ’80’s and 90’s after Andre Previn sort of…how shall I say it?…sucked balls for 8 years.  There are a small number of readily available nice recordings from his time there, the best probably being a raucous Saint- Saens “Organ” Symphony, and there’s even another Sibelius cycle for people to make fun of me for.

The recording included here is of the early vintage: October 1989.  The concert took place in Warsaw, Poland.  Let us all look back fondly at what a completely insane time that was…the Berlin Wall would come down in literally weeks and the Soviet Union was in the process of unraveling.  I can’t actually say that any of this has any particular bearing on this performance, but I just wanted to take a look back at the seminal world event of my childhood.

At any rate…on to the performance.

I’ll spare you the program notes on this work, as you could read them somewhere else written by someone much better than I.  In fact, you could read Phillip Huscher’s notes for the Chicago Symphony right here.  He is smarter than me.  We know this.  Suffice it to say, this piece is subtitled “Song of the Night,” a subtitle which Mahler never used or endorsed in any way, so you know it’s good.

This is music of darkness turning to light.  Night turning to day.  And everything that entails:  the march of night itself, those peaceful dreams, nightmares, and the oppression of the sun breaking in to save us or destroy us depending on your mattress quality.  There are two beautiful Nachtmusik movements (#s 2 & 4) that are neither Eine nor Kleine, but they are as lovely as anything Mahler ever wrote (and the 4th movement has guitar and mandolin in it).  The 3rd movement is marked schattenhaft, which means shadowy, and it probably the best musically descriptive direction for a movement I can imagine…perfectly applicable.

The brass player lurking deep inside me loves the Pittsburgh Symphony because of their brass section.  They have a brass quintet that has a Christmas CD affectionately referred to as “Angry Christmas.”  This same quintet has a CD of the Art of the Fugue that would make Bach roll over in his grave, consider exhuming himself, attempt to extract his own DNA, implant it into a cyborg-human hybrid, and live in the days of modern brass instruments.  It’s fucking incredible.  And my two favorite heroes are principal horn William Caballero and principal trumpet George Vosburgh, both of whom shine like Baby Jesus at your local pageant in this performance.

Maazel’s tempi are pretty much what you might expect out of Lorin Maazel.  I’ll leave it to those of you who know about Lorin Maazel to determine what you think that means.  This is not my favorite performance of this work, but it’s so splendidly Pittsburghian that I simply cannot help enjoy it.  Perhaps some of you will as well.

This performance was captured from WQED’s internet stream, which broadcasts at 56K.  I had initially converted it to a 192K mp3 file, but it had some blips in the sound, so it is now a lossless FLAC file, available at the following links in 4 parts:

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

RapidShare is a great service…you can download for free, though it will take time if you don’t sign up for an account (which does cost, but is worth it).  It’s a simple process, and if you have the patience to wait and download the links over the course of a few hours, everything will be completely and utterly free to you, which is nice in these economic times, or when you’re a trillionaire like me.

There are a few tools you will need to listen to this, and these will come in handy if you ever want to listen to any performances from pretty much anyone that are available like this (it’s even legal or something!).  The first is a media player that plays FLAC files.  Get yourself a copy of VLC Media Player here…it’s free and incredibly useful…it plays literally anything I can think of.  Also, because the size of these performances tend to be large, the files need to be broken into parts, and I use a program called HJ-Split, which you can get here…it’s also free.

Wow, that was boring technical jargon.  This blog is about music.  Listen to it if you like!