oboeinsight

I read here that the NY Phil is including estimated timings of the works in their program notes now. I’m trying to understand why they want to do this. I’m sure they have a reason.

I remember when Paul Hertelendy used to review the San Jose Symphony (RIP) and would often inform us of just how long a work was, and whether this was typical of that work. I never understood why that mattered; works can vary depending upon conductor, soloist and orchestra. That’s the way it is. I like hearing works at varying tempi … it can cause me to hear new things, and/or to listen differently. Of course there are times when the tempo must be commented on; sometimes a conductor chooses poorly. I do understand the need to remark on that. I’m not saying that tempi don’t matter!

Anyway, we musicians can be a bit annoying about time, too. I’ll confess that right here. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen a member of the orchestra turn around to look at our large clock, checking to see how many more minutes until break or the end of the rehearsal. (During symphony rehearsals there is usually a large clock placed somewhere so that the conductor can see it.) We look more frequently when we have a conductor we don’t care for. (We had one of those this year. He was patronizing. He was annoying. And he wasn’t very good. The review came out and basically implied that we finally found a conductor who could get us to play well. Go figure.)

Anyway, I just wonder about why the timing is so important. Maybe so the audience knows how long they have to wait until they can get to the bathroom? Or get a beer.
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I read this article about pianist Joanne MacGregor. She isn’t afraid to program unusual combinations of works. She isn’t stuck with one genre. And is sounds to me as if … well … it’s fun.

Not that what I do isn’t fun! I have the best job ever. Especially since I move from opera to symphony to musical theater* to sometimes a dash of chamber music (with the occasional punishment of ballet** thrown in).

But I’m realizing how old fashioned my notion of programing is. (So often it’s Overture-Concerto-Symphony, and we have to worry about the keys of each work and how it all works together.) And it’s time to change. I wasn’t happy with a bit ‘o programming I read about recently and now, looking it over again, I realize that I complained because it wasn’t the typical old thing! My husband suggests we need to move out of the Romantic era of programming.

Not that the programming shouldn’t make sense. I’m not saying we should serve cake with hot dogs cooked in, served on a bed of cole slaw. I do think there has to be something that makes the listener (finally – maybe even a day or so later) say “Ah. I see how that works now!” Hmmm. I like my movies to stick with me and cause me to think for days about them … and many that I didn’t quite get at first look-see become my favorites as time passes … so maybe concerts could become similar to that. I wonder.

So maybe I’m changing my tune.

The article I have linked to (above) ends with these words from MacGregor:

“Musicians do want to break out of these constraints,” she said. “It’s slightly boring to just play the same cycle of pieces over and over again.”

*I will write about enjoyment of musical theater at some point. My colleagues tend to think musicals are beneath them. I like playing them. Call me odd.

**Ballet. Sigh. Another post for another time. Not all of it is bad. Honest.
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I heard from m. c- over at The Standing Room about a rather unbelievable CAM. You’ve got to read it to believe it. Honest.

At the concert I attended tonight I was reminded of a few other CAM items:

• The CAM who saturates himself or herself in scent so strong that all around must either move or hold their breaths to survive. (This is more of an offense to other audience members, rather than the performers, but there have even been times when I, seated in the orchestra pit, can smell the darn scent.)
• A CAM who likes to show his/her expertise by conducting a work from his/her seat. (And is so great he/she doesn’t even use a score. Wowzers.)
• CAM is sitting in the audience but is a singer just like the tenor on stage and knows the part equally well. He doesn’t sing out loud, but leans forward from the front row of the balcony and mouths every word. (Yes, I saw this one recently.)

So … anyone else want to share? Let me know!
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I’m just home from a UCSC orchestra concert. It was a very enjoyable performance, and included a very good violin soloist, Vera Zelichenok, playing the Bruch Violin Concerto. Also on the program was Mozart’s Overture to Don Giovanni and Symphony No. 1 by Mendelssohn.

Problems? Well, yes, there were some intonation struggles. But I’m not going to be singling any of the sections out on this little blog. Not for now, anyway. (Although I am certain the section in question doesn’t read this.)

But really, it was a very enjoyable evening.

Oh … and great job to my students, Sara Hancock and Kayte Haegele! Also to Tabitha Tetreault whom I miss since we have no WWQ this year. :-(
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I just remembered, too, another booing incident in addition to the John Cage one. Years ago someone yelled out a loud “boo”. And it was an orchestra member. On stage. (I happen to know who it was, but I’ll never divulge that information.) It was someone that most people wouldn’t have expected to do such a thing, but the maestro at that concert had misbehaved so badly that the musician simply let go with the opinion most of us wished we had the guts to express. I don’t know that the audience heard the boo, though; they may have been to busy with their applause.

I can’t even remember what we played that night. I only remember the maestro not being a maestro, and this one very loud “boo” coming from the stage.

(One final opera to go. I made a “boo-boo” tonight, although I’m not sure anyone noticed besides yours truly. So I guess I should boo myself.)
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According to Drew McManus at Adaptistration a violist in a major symphony orchestra welcomes booing.

Okay. I can’t argue with a major symphony orchestra musician!

I’m in the minor leagues, if that.

But is she or he a principal player? I wonder. I think it may be different for a section player. (Now I’ll be in big trouble, though; I was told by a section cellist that her position was much more difficult than anything I ever did. She was quite angry when she blurted this at me, too. I don’t mean to say that playing in a section is any less difficult. It’s just that it’s a bit more anonymous.) When the San Jose Symphony (RIP) was around any booing aimed at me would have been for my English horn solos. And in case you’re wondering, I don’t need to be told if I’ve done a bad job. Most of the time, in fact, the audience hasn’t a clue that I’ve done poorly! When I’ve hated what I’ve done and a conductor has me stand I’m simply annoyed or even embarrassed.

Anyway, if the audience wants to boo, fine.

May we boo back when they are annoying? ;-)

(It sure is great fun to be reading so many music blogs! (See my list on the main page.) I don’t know why it’s taken me so long to locate them and link to them. Take a look-see. Most (all?) are much better writers than I.)
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