Another gig, come and gone! This past weekend I played with a regional orchestra that I've played with a few times before. It is always an enjoyable gig, mainly because of the people in the orchestra. Most are quite a fun bunch. I also like the music director and most of the rep we play--that helps too.
This gig didn't have the greatest rep this time, I'll admit. However, a few things at this concert made things extra memorable.
This concert marked the last concert I would ever play August, the beloved bass love of my life, ever again. My teacher/friend is tired of loaning his instruments to me, I think. I dunno why...I take great care of them. I even showered August with kisses today at rehearsal. Maybe THAT is why he wants it back...he doesn't want my slober/germs all over his instruments. Hmmmm. Anyway...August is a beautiful instrument---almost as beautiful as me! (ha)
Notice that the extension is a B extension. I used to think such things were stupid. Who wrote low B's ever? Maybe R. Strauss did, but we all know what I think of him....and plus, I'm an extension purist. I do NOT play low notes when they are not written. Yet, since this was my last weekend with August, I decided to play a few things down an octave. Then the MD wanted me to play a LOT more down, so I did. Basically I got cart blanche to play anything I wanted down the octave, so that ended up being fun. Who doesn't like low Bs? They literally make the floor vibrate, and I was fortunate to have this instrument resting against me while I played that glorious low note!
I was the only one in the section with an extension, and I also happen to be the only French bow player, earning me the nickname "Frenchie" from the dude sitting next to me. He is a bassist in Indy, and school orchestra director that I have heard a lot about, and it was nice to finally meet him. He also is a funny guy, and it was enjoyable to sit next to him. I'm tellin' ya, you can have a gig full of crap music, but if the person sitting next to you is fun, then it's all good. You kind of forget the crap you might be enduring in the gig. However, this works best in sections that are far away from the conductor, and sections that have many instruments playing the exact same part. (basses, in other words)
One really funny thing that occurred that he and I had a chuckle about actually happened during the concert. We basses had our mutes on for a movement, and it came time to take them off. Now, the mute I had on August is a great mute--it does its job. However, taking it off is a bit of a loud undertaking. It kinda squeaks a bit, and you can't just let it fall down your strings, or it'll make noise. It was during a really soft part of music, and I didn't want to ruin that.
So while all the basses just deal with making a bit of noise taking their mutes off, I take mine off slowly and surely. We don't have to come for many many more measures, so I could take my sweet time. I inch it off when there are parts with several instruments playing. It then is off the bridge, and it's time to let it down, slowly, just a little bit at a time.
I'm holding on it, manually lowering it down my strings, and it's not making a sound at all. I then see I've got maybe half an inch to go, so I just let go of it. I figure it'll hardly make any sound at all, if it even inches down any more---it might just stay in that one spot, due to the angle the mute is resting.
Nope. Of course that doesn't happen, and my pal to the left is watching all of this. I let go, and CLUNK. The mute falls, and makes a small racket. I doubt anyone outside the immediate vicinity could really hear it, but still, someone other than me did. Here I had been as meticulous as possible, and take time to do something right, and it just failed, royally. I looked over at my friend, and just looked at him with a look that said "Yes, I am an idiot. Thank you for noticing." We both were laughing a bit about it---or at least as much as we could in the middle of a concert.
Gigs are ripe for this kind of thing, if you ask me. Funny mistakes, mutes falling down and making noises, little pranks on section mates. (we--my pal and I, kept tapping a bass player in the row in front of us on the shoulder, blaming the other for doing so). Conversations of our mediocre bass playing occured, admiration of my bass was a focal point this week, and funny names we gave one of the composers of the evening were a common occurence. It's enjoyable to have these things during gigs, because after driving a long time to get there, and getting home late and being tired the next day and trying to play as best as you can because your section leader is a young kid at IU, you NEED things like loud falling mutes, just to give you something light to think about. It kind of reminds you that you aren't in some musical bubble of sorts, where everything is to be perfection in that horrible pretentious way that many musicians have a way of making things. It reminds me that I am a human, doing her best to make great music, but am still a human who does stupid things while doing her best to help make that great music, whether it be playing her part well, or lowering a mute quietly down her strings.
I admit it--I've made my share of viola jokes. I've made fun of violists. I had friends in college that switched from violin to viola, and I did my BEST to convince them not to do; I nearly BEGGED them not to switch. I've treated the viola as though was some odd disease to run away from and try not to be tainted with.
Yet for all that, I gotta admit--a good violist (and consequentially) a good viola section ends up getting my respect. For an instrument that has a long history of being made fun of, it often (at least in my experience) ends up being one of the stronger string sections. So with all this mind, plus the Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra's performance of Don Quixote coming up this weekend, I decided to sit down and chat with Michael Strauss.(his picture used with kind permission of the ISO)
If viola wasn't bad enough to choose, he originally wanted to play the saxophone!! Unfortunately that wasn't offered to the third graders (find me a program today that starts kids so early!) so he chose viola, figuring that when he started the sax the next year, it'd be a bit easier since he would have learned to read music. However, he showed talent immediately, and voila!--or rather, viola!--he stuck with it. He had great teachers along the way, all the way up until and through his time at Curtis, and subbed with the Philadelphia Orchestra regularly. After a time as principal with the Charleston Symphony, he won the Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra. I asked him a few questions about his time with the ISO, and he had some interesting things to say....
CI:...everything in your growth and development as a musician has now led up to HERE, being principal violist of the Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra. Compare things now, to when you started out. Obviously there's someone new up on the podium--that has to affect things. How do you feel that affected the orchestra, you as a principal, and your section, when Mario Venzago came on board?
MS: Mario is what the orchestra needed and still needs today to convert to an ISO of open mindedness, and flexibility. When I got here, the orchestra was a bit stiff, and embattled. It's starting to transition into an orchestra of color and one that is seizing opportunity to make music... willingly. Mario also understands that the viola's really need to overproduce in sound quality, not quantity, and take initiative with pulse to be effective.
CI: You also have had a few different people sitting next to you that have come and gone. (Victor de Almeida, now principal of Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra, and Joy Fellows, now principal of the San Francisco Opera Orchestra) Is it odd adjusting to new stand partners, or do you let them adjust entirely to you?
MS: Stand partners: It's a give and take thing. We all have to adjust to everybody that is new. The new people do it automatically, as they are outnumbered. I have enjoyed working with both Victor and Joy. They both brought unique gifts and qualities. Joy really showed enormous flexibility, and Victor brought a technical command that was very rare.
I look forward to our next member, Sheldon Pierson joining us, although not as my stand partner. I think his addition will add to our section a new direction that will point us to an even fuller future. For now, Bev Scott will be my stand partner, which is always a great joy, and we will press on to find more talent to fill that chair in the near future.
CI:Where do you see the ISO going from here? It's an exciting time right now for the orchestra---there is real musical growth occurring, and from my perspective, it's awesome to watch and hear it happen. What about for you, who is actually a part of it?
MS: Well, I hope for more artistic opportunities for the band, both collectively and individually. I think the ISO needs a lot more hot stage, with run-outs, tours and recording opportunities, regionally, nationally, and around the world. And, our management must continue their great trend of being flexible with individuals, to allow them to take advantage of individual opportunities to stretch their wings and develop with our colleagues around the world. For the ISO to become world music community members is my greatest dream and wish. This would also benefit our local community in many varied ways. It needs to happen now.
CI: The ISO is playing Richard Strauss’s Don Quixote this weekend. Regarding your part, Sancho Panza--he's a secondary character. (Kind of like the viola, or the stereotype of it) Yet we know an orchestra can't survive without its violas, much like a story can't survive without its secondary characters. Care to comment on that interesting similarity?
MS: I love it. Yeah, absolutely Strauss gave this role to the viola... probably because you never know what you’re gonna get, kinda like Sancho himself. As a violist, it's important to be brave enough to just let that happen. We'll see this week, given the personalities at play here, it could be a lot of fun to witness.
CI: You are also playing the Passacaglia from Peter Grimes on the concert. Do you enjoy playing what seems like such a painful piece of music? The opera isn’t exactly cheery…
MS: Yes, it is painful. Very painful, and uncomfortably a little sick with shades of pedophilic tendencies and such. I enjoy playing music that invokes pain. It's not a sadistic thing, but it is always interesting to stir that emotional mix in the moment to see what pops up. Well, sometimes it takes a bit to get over what surfaces, but one always learns about one's self when one allows it to fully bloom/happen. We'll see, this is my maiden voyage in public with this particular movement from Peter Grimes.
And with that, we wish Mike all the best for his maiden voyage this weekend with the Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra!
You may remember some time ago when I blogged on a major love of mine....a bass, named August. We fit together perfectly---the amazing sound I got out of him, the string length that suited my short little arms and stubby little fingers.....and I could reach amazingly high notes! And what about that C extension?? That thing was downright SEXY! Ah, I have daydreamed about him many a time since we parted. I wondered when we'd see each other again (meaning when my friend Peter would lend him to me again). Or were we destined to just live apart?
Thankfully, we are together again, for one last time, EVER. This is is. The last time we'll enjoy each other's company. We are together this week for an orchestra concert, and I will be cherishing each moment August and I spend together......
I'm probably the millionth person to point out in their music blog the dilemma going on about the Cleveland critic who's been replaced. Apparently he wasn't a big enough fan of FWM.
I keep reading about people jumping on the "let's trash FWM" bandwagon. I don't get it. I see equal amounts of hatred AND love about FWM all over the comments sections, in doing searches on him, etc etc. Yet for many, their minds are made up.
I for one, am willing to wait until this cools off a bit, and see if anything else surfaces. I have heard CDs of FWM---some are better than others, some are GREAT, in my opinion. Some aren't as hot as other recordings of those works. I've only seen him live in action once, and I was thoroughly impressed with both he, and the orchestra as well. I'm looking forward to seeing him again this year, but now I'm even MORE anxious to see him, with all this drama going on.
I normally wouldn't comment on such a thing---I leave this kind of thing to the bigger, badder musical bloggers out there. Yet all this trashing I've been reading of FWM has kinda saddened me. If the critic got canned because they didn't like his opinions of FWM, then yes, that sucks. But why all the hate for FWM? If you're going to diss anyone, diss the dudes who dismissed the poor guy for crappy reasons. (if those reasons are true). Sigh. Enough about this. If you want to read more amazingly insightful things about this drama, visit one of the blogs you see to your right.
Fellow Mahler fanatic Chris forwarded me this press release, that I somehow missed.
I do wish Maestro Chailly the best in regards to his heart tests. I hope the tests show that all is well, and he is healthy as can be.
I was hoping that the gentleman to replace him, Jaap van Zweden would simply conduct the original program, but alas! No Mahler 10! Instead, Bruckner 5! Oh the horror! Woe is me, no Mahler 1o!
I was SO (and still am) depressed when I read that. Sigh....I was so looking forward to a nice trip up to the Windy City, my third favorite city in the US. (Behind NYC, and Bloomington, IN). Oh well...I guess my first dose of Mahler for the season will be that next week in Cincinnati, for Mahler 2, with Gilbert Kaplan at the helm.
But enough whining---I wish you the best, Maestro Chailly! I hope the tests show you to be in excellent health, and I hope you will return to Chicago to conduct Mahler sooner, rather than later.
One of my favorite sections to read in NUVO, the paper I write for, is the letters to the editor. I love to read people's rants and raves. They often either have me cheering, or have me rolling my eyes. When I checked it this past week, I didn't expect to read a letter about me though!
Here's the article I wrote, that encited a letter to be written:
Two and a half stars Faculty Artist Series; ButlerUniversity’s Eidson-Duckwall Hall; Sept. 2
Apart from the piano, the violin has the largest repertoire in the world. With so many glorious pieces to choose from, why would someone put not just one, but TWO overplayed concertos on a program? Yes, the Mendelssohn Concerto in E minor is pretty, but it is played too often. The same could be said about the Bruch Concerto in G minor. Not to mention the Bruch is the musical equivalent of cotton candy — there’s no real substance to it; it’s all fluff. I would have been able to forgive the programming of these works if they were played with some real pizzazz, or a completely new interpretation, but that didn’t happen. No one denies that Davis Brooks is a good violinist, yet his Mendelssohn lacked conviction, and his Bruch was humdrum. Brooks programmed some other interesting, jazzy works by Coleridge-Taylor Perkinson and Libby Larsen, but they were like afterthoughts.
Ms. Incandela’s review of the recent Butler Faculty Artist Series recital featuring violinist Davis Brooks is unworthy of the standard set by other reviews in your paper (A&E Reviews, Sept. 10-17). A two and a half star review, out of five stars, is a slam by any reckoning, and your readership deserves a very solid basis for such a rating ... for a valued and respected member of the Indianapolis musical and academic community.
That solid basis was mysteriously absent. Instead, the reviewer spent the bulk of her short article taking issue with “fluff” played on the recital, especially the Bruch (“musical cotton candy”) and Mendelssohn (“pretty, but overplayed”) violin concertos. With this, the critical equivalent of an allergic sneeze, she manages to spray everyone at the table: Mr. Brooks, audiences who demand these pieces, conductors who program them and the Oistrakhs, Milsteins, Heifetzs, Szeryngs, Sterns, Perlmans etc. who perform them. It would seem that the world is either much fonder of cotton candy than we ever suspected, or someone forgot to tell the rest of us what we were consuming with such evident pleasure.
At the risk of pedantry, I would suggest that repetition is at the very heart of great art, be it aboriginal oral epic or hip-hop. Art is for the ages, timeless. It does not need to be tricked out with “pizzazz” or “completely new interpretations” to remain fresh and engaging, anymore than Genesis needs to be pizzazzed by the preacher. ...
The Bruch and Mendelssohn concertos are played and replayed BECAUSE they are masterpieces of their genre, because they have a new listener in every audience who has yet to be thrilled by them for the first time, and some old unjaded ears that marvel anew at their workmanship upon each rehearing. Not because they are cotton candy.
Those who pay attention to the local arts scene know that Davis Brooks’ recital programs are always inventive, eclectic, imaginative and challenging both to the performer and the listener. He’s a monster technician, who makes hard things sound easy, and a thoughtful interpreter who doesn’t insult his listener with musical harlotry. Ironic that he, of all violinists, should be burned at a chestnut roast!
To have the opportunity to hear Bruch and Mendelssohn concertos side-by-side in live performance by one performer is a rare opportunity to make a controlled, almost scientific, comparison between two great Romantic composers.
Alfred Abel Indianapolis
And that, was the letter. As I was reading, I was dying to know who this was, and when I got to the end, I was pleased I knew who it was. Alfred Abel is a local violinist---he plays with the Indianapolis Chamber Orchestra (along with Davis Brooks) and also is concertmaster of an orchestra I occasionally play with as well, although we have never met. We have a concert next week though, so who knows, maybe we will meet.
First off, regarding the letter: I do not think I adequately explained myself. I think I left some things that I hoped would be implied, but was foolish to think that. I also think that 200 words is a very small space to say ones feelings, and I need to get better at it. (funny enough though, Mr. Abel's letter was over DOUBLE what my review was! 403 words to be exact. Oh what I would give for 400 words in a review!)
And second, and this maybe wrong of me to point out in some people's eyes, and that's fine. I mean nothing personal about this; what I am about to say is not an attack of any sort: Mr. Abel and Dr. Brooks are friends and colleagues, and Mr. Abel also happens to be a violinist. Hence, in my opinion, his passionate response to my review.
The best way for me to approach this letter is to go through it with a fine toothed comb, and point out some things, so here we go. My responses will be in color.
Ms. Incandela’s review of the recent Butler Faculty Artist Series recital featuring violinist Davis Brooks is unworthy of the standard set by other reviews in your paper (A&E Reviews, Sept. 10-17). A two and a half star review, out of five stars, is a slam by any reckoning, and your readership deserves a very solid basis for such a rating ... for a valued and respected member of the Indianapolis musical and academic community.
Well, I can't REALLY argue with this, as this could be argued that it's opinion. Personally I very much believe my reviews to be worthy of the standard set my other reviewers, but whatever. I have received wonderful feedback on my writing, and I am confident in it--as are my editors. And to the last sentence---I know full well that Dr. Brooks is a valued and respected member of the Indy musical and academic community, and I certainly agree with that assessment of him. I hold him to a high standard as a result. I "slam" someone, as Mr. Abel calls it, if I feel the concert/recital is not up to snuff. (anyone remember my "slam" of the Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra the other season when they played Mahler 1? 1.5 stars.) Anyway.
That solid basis was mysteriously absent. Instead, the reviewer spent the bulk of her short article taking issue with “fluff” played on the recital, especially the Bruch (“musical cotton candy”) and Mendelssohn (“pretty, but overplayed”) violin concertos. With this, the critical equivalent of an allergic sneeze, she manages to spray everyone at the table: Mr. Brooks, audiences who demand these pieces, conductors who program them and the Oistrakhs, Milsteins, Heifetzs, Szeryngs, Sterns, Perlmans etc. who perform them. It would seem that the world is either much fonder of cotton candy than we ever suspected, or someone forgot to tell the rest of us what we were consuming with such evident pleasure.
This paragraph is where I thought people could see what I was saying. Apparently not--I must work on this so I don't have this kind of issue again; I'm not thrilled about being misunderstood. There's a lot to address here as well. Yes, I said the Bruch is fluff. I stand by that. It is a roller coaster of a violin concerto that to me, is all technical wizardry, and doesn't capitalize AS MUCH AS OTHER CONCERTOS on the musical aspects of things. It's double stops this, double stops that, really big runs there, really high notes there. That's what I mean by fluff. Funny enough, the four other Butler faculty around me agreed with me! I do not for one second believe the Mendelssohn to be fluff however. Mr. Abel thinks I do, but I do not. I think it is an incredible concerto, and is much trickier than one thinks. Also, for Mr. Abel to think that my "sneeze" is directed at everyone else who has ever played this piece is nothing but ridiculous. I don't criticize any of those violinists in regards to playing the Mendelssohn because those violinists sounded incredible when they played it! Unfortunately I didn't feel that Dr. Brooks played his best at all. I explained that---I said he lacked conviction, and that his playing was humdrum. That's why I cannot forgive his programming two concertos in a program---two concertos we hear too often PLAYED POORLY. (apparently my ideas about that didn't get across.) Yes, I too love to hear a concerto I've heard 104852834023 times when it's played beautifully and skillfully and with intensity and integrity! I don't care about all those other times I've heard it, it's that one awesome performance that makes it magical! However this performance wasn't that at all. Maybe I should have mention the intonation mistakes, and the thin tone I heard. The performances lacked HEART. They didn't convince me, and it really sounded as though Dr. Brooks was just playing through it like he would any other day. THAT'S my issue with playing those concertos. If someone is going to play two concertos on a program, they'd better be awesome. That's basically it. Concertos though--if I may go on a rant---do not belong on a program. Maybe it'd be ok if you are preparing for a competition, or before playing the concertos with an orchestra--otherwise, they don't belong on a program. They were written for a solo instrument and orchestra, not piano.
Back to fluff and cotton candy, toward the end of the paragraph----I love cotton candy! It's great! There's still not much of great substance to it. (I'm speaking specifically about the Bruch). I gave my reasons as to why I believe this above. This is something I will no doubt disagree with a lot of people on, and so be it. Mr. Abel is a violinist----I expect him to stick up for the concertos of his instrument.
At the risk of pedantry, I would suggest that repetition is at the very heart of great art, be it aboriginal oral epic or hip-hop. Art is for the ages, timeless. It does not need to be tricked out with “pizzazz” or “completely new interpretations” to remain fresh and engaging, anymore than Genesis needs to be pizzazzed by the preacher. ..
Repetition at the heart of great art? Interesting idea, although I'd say innovation is. Repetition gets boring. Also integrity, conviction, heart, passion---these are all parts of great art too. But people will most likely disagree with one another on this, and I'm not in the mood to discuss what great art is comprised of right now. For something to remain fresh and engaging however, it must sound so. I stated I didn't believe that performance was fresh or engaging. What really gets me in this paragraph is the ridiculousness of Mr. Abel's last sentence. Genesis is a part of Holy Scripture, meant for the profit of one's soul, and to teach us about God. I do not believe music teaches about God like the way Genesis does. Sure, art is a creation and God is the Creator, so in some ways it can sort of point to God, but it is nothing like the book of Genesis. So to compare a concerto which has no impact on our soul, to Scripture that does is absolutely ludicrous. It's also disrespectful to Scripture. Yes I know he's using an analogy of sorts---but it's bad manners to use Scripture like that. I'm just going to forget he even wrote that sentence.
The Bruch and Mendelssohn concertos are played and replayed BECAUSE they are masterpieces of their genre, because they have a new listener in every audience who has yet to be thrilled by them for the first time, and some old unjaded ears that marvel anew at their workmanship upon each rehearing. Not because they are cotton candy.
I made the mistake of not saying that yes, I DO think these works are masterpieces! (the Bruch not so much, but I recognize it's prominent place in the violin literature). But if you are going to play a masterpiece again, play it well! I would marvel at their workmanship no matter how many times I'd heard it before, if it was played stunningly well! Because I had issues with the performance, that made me wish he'd chosen other repertoire!
Those who pay attention to the local arts scene know that Davis Brooks’ recital programs are always inventive, eclectic, imaginative and challenging both to the performer and the listener. He’s a monster technician, who makes hard things sound easy, and a thoughtful interpreter who doesn’t insult his listener with musical harlotry. Ironic that he, of all violinists, should be burned at a chestnut roast!
Being a person who DOES pay attention to the local arts scene, I do know that Dr. Brooks' programs are inventive, etc. Who said they weren't? Who said he wasn't a "monster technician?" A "monster technician" can have both good and bad days, and I don't think that particular day showed us the best of Dr. Brooks. I even said I thought he was a good violinist, and I should have said great actually! I have no doubt that he is more often than not a thoughtful interpreter, yet I didn't hear it that night. I heard a lackluster, going-through-the-motions Mendelssohn, and same with the Bruch. He was "burned at a chestnut roast"---which is exaggeration---BECAUSE I find him to be a great violinist, and he didn't play those masterpieces as well as he should have. Plain and simple.
And allow me to say: just because Dr. Brooks is a valued and respected member of the music community, does not for ONE SECOND mean I'll go easy on him, or lighter, or be just a bit nicer than I normally would. Same goes for anyone else, as this is not just specific to Dr. Brooks. I have no issues about speaking my mind about someone who has been here for 100 years, or someone who just got in on the scene. Someone's stature in this community doesn't really play in to what I write about them, but their performance does. That's completely fair. It's as objective as I can possibly be. I have two main goals when I write: to write what I hear and think about a performance in a clear way that people can understand, and to be completely objective, and not let anything cloud my judgment, like someone's stature in town, or even my friendship with a performer or composer. To have the opportunity to hear Bruch and Mendelssohn concertos side-by-side in live performance by one performer is a rare opportunity to make a controlled, almost scientific, comparison between two great Romantic composers.
I have no idea why this paragraph is in his letter---no one would deny what Mr. Abel says. It has nothing to do, in my mind, with what he was arguing before. Sure, it would make a great comparison. It seemed nothing of the sort though. It just looked like Dr. Brooks wanted to play two major concertos on a program. There seemed nothing scientific about it. These two great Romantic composers both composed well known and loved violin concertos. Again, not to sound repetitive, I do not believe they were up to snuff, and that was my issue with it.
I think I made an error in my review. I did not adequately convey--almost at all, that I really DO respect those works. I can respect cotton candy! I like cotton candy! And I can understand why someone would think that I do NOT like it at all, based on what I wrote. I should have made it much clearer that I take issue with performances that aren't as good as they should be, ESPECIALLY when it's regarding the warhorses of a particular instrument--but that I actually do have the ability to enjoy and like the warhorses! Yes, the Bruch (to me, and many others, but I'm sure not violinists!) is cotton candy, but I don't deny it's a great work at all. In an amazing performance of it, I'm more than happy to forget that it's (again, to me) a bunch of fireworks, and admire it for being just a killer piece to listen to. I didn't get to hear that though--the Mendelssohn even more so. I feel as though I am repeating myself, and I don't mean to, yet that's my main point. I wanted to hear amazing performances of these works---or even completely new renditions of them, yet I did not. (and please note that a radical new rendition--"musical harlotry" as Mr. Abel might put it, would NOT guarantee a great review. But it would have been more interesting than what I heard). Do you see what I'm saying? Every time I hear a performance of a masterpiece that isn't as strong as it should be I get so annoyed. I would never think a piece is overplayed if I consistently heard it played well, because I appreciate and love a good performance! I can't say I've heard these particular pieces played well recently. (Jack Liebeck/Mendelssohn with the ISO last season, and Pinchas Zukerman played the Bruch 2 seasons ago, and while his tone was incredible, the best way to describe his performance was "been there, done that.") Not to mention I've heard other lackluster performances of major violin concertos in Indy as of late (meaning in the past season or two) and I can't understand it. It frustrates me to no end. Yeah, they are masterpieces and all, but you need to be more than on top of your game to pull them off. Just a run through repeat will not suffice.
I hope I have explained myself more fully. I'd hate to have written all this and not have succeeded in that.
Not everyone will agree with what I write, and that's fine. I trust my ears a LOT, and I am not the only person here in Indianapolis who does. Because of that, I am not too miffed when I see a letter such as Mr. Abel's. However, because I feel I did not make myself as clear as I could have, I felt as though a rebuttal of sorts was in order. Feel free to comment on my commenting, if you wish!
I also forgot to post last week's review: Davis Brooks, violin NUVO, Sept. 10, 2008
I actually received what a fellow writer calls "hate mail" in regards to the violin review. And a friend of mine read it, agreed with it, and then proceeded to throw a few jabs my way as well in telling me this. Fun stuff, I tell you. Anyway, my "rebuttal" or whatever you want to call it, will be up later this week, along with that letter. I do wish that I had more than 200 words to say what I want in my reviews. Since I don't, I have to make do with the space I have, and people can sometimes end up reading what I wrote and misinterpreting it. Sigh. And then there are times I just need to learn to communicate better as well---I'm certainly not so high and mighty as to think my writing does not need criticism. Good grief, heavens no! February will be my 2 year anniversary writing for NUVO, and it is my first formal writing job. The only ever writing I did before that was for my diary, in emails, and papers for school. So of course I still have much to learn.
That being said though---I still stick by my review, 100%. But more on that later this week!
The Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra opened its 2008-2009 season this past weekend with three very successful shows, Thursday, Friday and Saturday. The official party/gala opening/everyone-getting-decked-out-to-the-9's was on Saturday, and of course, yours truly attended Saturday night. Why would I go on a Thursday or Friday night when people don't look as fabulous, and there isn't free food and drink? There was a tent outside where everyone was schmoozing (including me) and despite the heat, it was a good time.
Speaking of looking fabulous, I decided to get dressed up, just like everyone else, but I threw a twist in. (and this is how this post also counts as a Mahler Monday entry). Check out my top I wore Saturday night:
I should also say that I was wearing a very nice skirt, heels, makeup, jewelry, etc etc. The shirt was quite a hit with the musicians afterwards. When I was backstage chatting away, I got many compliments on it, and a few asked where I got it. I should say first that it was designed by Matthew Guerrieri, the writer of the delightful blog Soho the Dog. You can get the shirt here.
The program order was different than what I expected. I thought that Mario would start off with The Sorcerer's Apprentice, then to the Saint-Saens violin concerto (Joshua Bell, soloist), then intermission, and then Also Sprach Zarathustra. How wrong I was!
The evening started off with Also Sprach, and an interesting one at that! Mario has some different ideas about tempos and the shape of this piece. They almost all took me by surprise, but at the same time I found myself refreshed by them. Rather than pounding through it like so many recordings do, Mario took more time here and there, and really seemed to stretch things out, and in a way that I found myself on the edge of my chair from time to time. He could have taken more time in the introduction though---that's my only argument for tempos for the evening. I quickly got over that though, as for me, it's what is AFTER that famous beginning, that I am most interested in. The orchestra played that orchestra warhorse well, with an occasional blip here and there, but nothing to moan and groan about. Perhaps I'm biased---I try not to be, but a big plus for me was the fugue, where the two bottom basses start out on low C's. Bennett Crantford and Peter Hansen were the lucky ones to start that passage out, and it was terrific. Both have low C extensions, and the sound they produced was clear, warm, and almost spooky in its ability to be so quiet, yet sound so unbelievably confident. There wasn't a whiff of timidity from those two. It's a difficult part---I remember playing it with an orchestra years ago, and being in their exact same spot (Bennett's, to be exact, 8th chair), and I was sweating bullets. These gentlemen pulled it off wonderfully. The rest of the section is to be commended as well. Too bad about the cellos though---they found a way to drag that part down.
The piece overall was a fun roller coaster, with Mario taking us seemingly all the way to the top where we thought we'd go crashing down the next hill, only to find that he had us hanging there, wondering when we were going to drop--the drop inevitably was all the more fun as a result.
Intermission came, and allowed me more time to soak up the pretty flowers and decorations they had up this year. They were FAR superior to last years decorations, which were sunflowers. They gave the hall a country western feel last year, and that doesn't really suit the Hilbert Circle Theater, if you ask me. This year was much classier, and chic!
After intermission, Joshua Bell took to the stage to play Saint-Saens 3rd violin concerto, which is as unremarkable as unremarkable can be. Perhaps that's an exaggeration---there are some stunningly beautiful parts of the second movement. Otherwise, I found it to be a forgettable piece of music. His playing wasn't forgettable---it was excellent. However, the repertoire didn't really float my boat, or get me revved up about the beauty and possibilities of the violin. I kept yelling afterwards for an encore---but didn't get one, sadly enough.
My friend sitting to the right of me stated about the next piece, The Sorcerer's Apprentice, that it was the "anti-climactic climax" of the evening, and she was right in terms of the actual piece itself. The performance of it was delightful, with the feelings of mischief, magic and mayhem all throughout. We were planning however, on that piece being the opener, and still couldn't get used to it being last on the program. Oh well, we eventually got over it.
The evening was a blast---a beautiful hall, great rep, my favorite orchestra with an incredible conductor--what a way to start off the season! If that concert is any indication of the how the rest of the season will be, it will most certainly be a hit!
Bravo, Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra, and Mario Venzago on a spectacular opening weekend! You have my best wishes for a wonderful 08-09 season!
If you signed up for a Chicago Symphony Orchestra subscription by a certain date (which has passed), you got this shirt for free:
It says MORE COWBELL. Yes, I know you can read. I just....I'm at a loss for words---a rarity. This shirt is pure genius. I am so upset I never subscribed to the CSO. I would have done that just for this shirt. Seriously.
I am going to inquire to see if they are selling any remaining shirts. Or, I might beg someone over there to let me have one.
Or if you subscribed to the CSO and got this shirt and don't think you will ever wear it, please let me know!
I was going to write something academic about Mahler, or give a cool quote about him, but instead, I have decided to share the most weirdo dream I've ever had with you guys. Yes, it was about Mahler.
Much of my time as of late has been spent daydreaming about the Mahler 08-09 tour I'll be embarking upon soon. (first concert is in Chicago in October, for Mahler 10) I have been thinking extensively about the Mahlerfest in New York City, and I guess all the thinking about that is what caused the dream. Plus, maybe I ate something weird for dinner that night too.
So, in my dream, I was on my way to Carnegie Hall to see Mahler's 9th symphony, with Daniel Barenboim conducting. I was looking forward to it since it was my first trip in to Carnegie Hall, and it was the New York Philharmonic playing as well, whom I've never heard live. The trip up to NYC took forever---in my dream I myself had to drive a train to get there, and also man the subways and make sure people got off at the right places---plus subways rides in NYC cost $200. Somehow in my dream I had the cash for that. But anyway....
So I get to NYC and do some sight seeing first---I visit a museum dedicated to alligators (!) and then find Carnegie Hall, which isn't called Carnegie Hall---in the dream it's called "Cannon Hall". Whatever. I go in there, and the orchestra is doing a new and weird version of Mahler 9. Instead of the audience sitting where the audience sits, and the orchestra on stage, the orchestra is instead spread throughout the audience---and there are chairs around sporadically. There were violins on stage, violas in the balcony, horns at the back of the hall near some audience members, and then many musicians sitting right next to audience members. I was sitting at the side of the hall, reading over the shoulder of a musician, and looking at their part---which was on a laptop. Weird, I know. Then, for the second movement, it was a remix! It was a Gwen Stefani/Bjork remix of the second movement. Seriously, where does this stuff come from?? How did it appear in my dream?
Well, however it got there, in the dream I wasn't too thrilled with the new version of it. And I wanted to see the orchestra on stage, as a whole, and I felt like this concert was something that Mahler would NOT approve of, at all. I then looked over to my right, and a tuba player was there, just waiting to play, and in the meantime, checking his email on his laptop. Then in front of me the bassists appeared, who were all joking and laughing about, and one of them had a bass made entirely of bamboo. I was fascinated by it, but didn't get to check it out.
Then later on, after an intermissin that somehow made it in there, things were getting a bit back to normal. More musicians were on stage, but there were still some scattered all about. I was then sitting in the back of the hall, near a bunch of rich old people, and behind me was a brass player, although I forget which instrument it was. I said hi, and asked if I knew him from somewhere, because he looked really familiar. He was a young 20-something in the NYPhil, and back in the days in youth orchestra we had dated, he said. I was interested in him, he was interested in me, and we then started dating. I felt really cool that I was dating someone who made six figures, and who was a pro musician.
The rest of the dream is a complete blur, and maybe that's a good thing. I thought it was scary enough to dream about a Gwen Stefani/Bjork remix of Mahler 9. Sheesh.....
Dear readers of MOMTB: meet Robert, my first guest reviewer! Robert is a rabid Mahler fan, a trombonist, and was just on a cruise that was affected by--check this out---HURRICANE GUSTAV. How's that for interesting?
Anyway---here's what Robert had to say on Ft. Worth Symphony's performance of Mahler 6 the other week. I hope you all enjoy!
Before I even get into the meat of this review, I'll answer two questions before they get asked:
1. Scherzo was before the Andante
2. Two hammer blows
The Ft. Worth Symphony Orchestra performs in Bass Hall, a beautiful hall modeled after the old European opera houses and is famous for it's heralding angels outside. The inside of the hall is just a beautiful with marble floors and the underside of the dome painted as a blue sky. The hall is also the home of the annual Van Cliburn International Piano Competition.
Bass Hall is named after two members of the Bass family, who do more than their part to keep arts alive in Ft. Worth. Besides funding much of the hall and endowing several chairs in the orchestra, they are also the underwriters for the Mahler cycle, which made the tickets for this concert even less expensive than comparable tickets during the normal orchestral season.
Miguel Harth-Bedoya, who leads the FWSO, is a young, energetic conductor who has been credited with dramatically raising the level of the FWSO. I've been a fan of his since I heard him lead the Chicago Symphony Orchestra in Christian Lindberg's Chickabone Checkout for Trombone featuring the CSO's bass trombonist Charlie Vernon. Harth-Bedoya also led the FWSO in its Carnegie Hall debut this past January in a concert featuring Augustin Hadelich and Alban Gerhardt (also making their Carnegie Hall debuts).
Friday's concert was the first in the FWSO's 2008 Mahler cycle. The FWSO is ambitiously tackling the 9 completed symphonies over three years. This year's concerts, #6, #7 and #2 is the second part of three. Last year, they performed #1, #5, and #9. I can't imagine what it will be like next year when they will play #3 and #8 in the same weekend. It is a daunting task to take on three Mahler symphonies back-to-back-to-back--requiring several practices. If done properly, the musicians are going to need a long break before their season officially gets started.
Mahler cycle - get it?
Harth-Bedoya started off the 6th with a brisk tempo. It was quicker than I personally like, but not much faster than the Bernstein/ViennaPO recording. It worked because the basses and cellos were able to project the firm, martial attitude of the opening. There were a few balance issues in the trumpets as well as between the brass and the strings, who were appropriately arranged with first and second violins on opposite sides of the conductor. Overall, Harth-Bedoya kept the movement lively and brought it to a rousing conclusion. I thought a few people were going to applaud when it was over--I know I thought about it.
As mentioned at the beginning of the review, the Scherzo picked up where the opening movement left off. In the inner two movements, there was some fabulous playing by the clarinets and horns (and really, they played well throughout the entire work). The second movement drew to a delicate end but was interrupted by the single sound of a solitary baby. I don't know how babies know it, but they always seem to know the most inopportune time to let out a yell.
Since I haven't seen many Mahler symphonies in person, I'm always curious as to how specific orchestras follow Mahler's directions. I was thrilled to see the horns and clarinets put their bells up as written. Mahler's music also has the ability to make every performer feel important and this was no different. For example, the percussionist playing the cowbells had the same look of intensity and total concentration that the concermaster did. Of course, like nearly every orchestra, the violinists in the back row looked bored.
Once the final movement started, I naturally began to think about the hammer. I didn't get a great view of it when I was getting seated, but I was able to see it. It wasn't a large as I was anticipating. You certainly didn't need to climb anything to hit it. The wooden box looked to be about as tall as a small stool or a viola (which some people also recommend striking with a hammer).
In some ways, the hammer blows may be more intense when you know that they are coming (and you can watch the performer "wind up" to strike it) as opposed being a new listener who gets surprised. The first blow came and went and I actually thought it could have been even louder. I didn't read all of the program notes, but I did notice one sentence that said, "...building to three moments of climax, one for each hammer blow." Naturally, I expected there to be three hammer blows. I was pleasantly surprised when the third one did not happen.
I felt Harth-Bedoya could have slowed the tempo in some places to increase the tension in the music. He maintained a faster tempo and it took away some of the tragic impact of the music. Nonetheless, it was a superb performance and when the last surprise note died away, the audience rose to its feet for a long standing ovation. The applause continued for so long that Harth-Bedoya had to lead the orchestra off of the stage. Of course, they had to get some rest in as Symphony No. 7 was less than 24 hours away.
