oboeinsight

I got to the theatre on the early side, thinking I’d warm up. Now when I write warm up I don’t mean warming up my body, as I’m sure you know. But getting into the pit I checked my handy dandy thermometer.

It was 63 degrees. Yikes!

I won’t even get my oboe out of its case when it’s that cold.

I turned on the space heaters the opera company has provided for us (they are somewhat of a joke, but I guess they are better than nothing), and sat. And sat. FInally we reached 65, so I pulled out the oboe and warmed up a bit. The temperature managed to get to 69 when we were tuning.

The overture was wonderful! The tempi were fabulous, and I have to say it was the best I think we’ve played it.

Then the curtain came up.

(Insert all sorts of screaming here if you’d like.)

The temperature immediately started to drop. It finally landed at 66.4. Warm enough that we’ll still play, but cold enough that we were pretty darn cold. It went back and forth between that and 66.9 … big diff, you know? … and I was pretty darn ticked.

Still, the first half flew by due to some quicker, wonderful lively tempi.

Second act? COLD COLD COLD. I wore my fleece jacket, turning the collar inward so it looked as if I was completely in black. If this temperature thing continues to be a problem I’m really tempted to suggest that the opera provide a plastic oboe for me. I really don’t want to deal with cracking oboe issues.

The best part of tonight was getting into my car and blasting the heat. The second best thing? Great tempi! That can really change the way things feel. And the cast did some rather fun things too … making us pit folk laugh out loud. That was fun. Even while we were frozen in the pit.

Does anyone remember the time when you would sit at home with your sound system, put on a recording and just listen? Listen, as if there were something deep or important buried in the music?

I read this over at Campell Vertesi’s blog right here.

I’m not opposed to the iPod, and I don’t believe that everyone who uses the iPod doesn’t really listen, but I understand what Mr. Vertesi is saying.

I don’t think that this whole thing applies to just listening, though. I think folks read in a similar manner much of the time now. And watching? I think films get that same not-quite-working-at-it treatment. So I think it has to do with our culture in general, rather than just music. We want things quick. We want things easy. We want things understandable without a whole heck of a lot of pondering much of the time.

Or at least it feels that way sometimes.

If a piece of music—be it “classical” or anything else—takes time to process, takes perhaps more than one listen to understand, I think that work often gets put aside. Too much work, thank you very much. If a film isn’t easy to comprehend, well, maybe it’s just not worth it to some folks.

Or at least that’s the way it seems sometimes.

But maybe things aren’t as they seem. Maybe I’m just being silly and goofy.

Often that seems to be the case.

By the way, I still listen to music—both pop and classical—in my car. It’s different than “listening hard”, but I do it.
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There’s another Sondheim musical where the actors/singers are also instrumentalists. This time someone even plays the oboe.

Hmm.

We all know you shouldn’t have lipstick on to play oboe. So gee … I wonder … is she going without? I kinda doubt it.

This is funny: the blurb says: “Elizabeth Stanley plays April, Oboe, Tuba and Alto Sax.”

Now of course someone once sang about a gimmick. And the director has certainly found one. Maybe it even works. I won’t be getting to NYC any time soon to hear and see the show, so I’ll leave it up to the Mighty Reviewers. But then they liked Sweeney Todd, and I was pretty unimpressed with some of the playing. So maybe I’m just a picky old snob.

Ya think?

Update
My son sort of implied I’m being harsh.

How can that be? Moi? A gentle oboe player? An emotional English hornist?

A knife-wielding maniac.

Oh … yeah … there’s that, too.
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There’s something I really enjoy about my drive over the hill to UCSC. As long as the traffic isn’t bad (and it rarely is, since I’m driving counter-commute) I appreciate the scenic drive, my private time, and some music I might not necessarily listen to if I stayed at home.

Today I began with Leonard Cohen. I’m not all that familiar with him, but knew his song Hallelujah. (I bought the CD I listened to today, in fact, because my sister mentioned that song last week, wondering who wrote it; I knew the writer, I just didn’t know his version of the song.) I certainly liked what I heard today. I could swear I purchased something of his years ago and didn’t get it. Maybe it’s an age thing. Or maybe I’m just more open to things now.

Then it was some more Quartetto Gelato. Lovely. Fun. Moving. Very moving on some tracks. And the singer—a lovely tenor voice there!—really got to me.

So I’m now in a “mood” … sort of one of those squishy, weepy kinds of moods.

I have to quickly switch gears and get ready to teach!
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The Movie. This is funny.

Finally To Tower

Too bad I didn’t see the movie at Tower Records today. But then I didn’t see much of anything there! I did pick up two Quartetto Gelato CDs … oboe, violin, cello and … drum roll accordian! Fun listening, and there’s some mighty fine oboe playing goin’ on, too. (There’s more to them than “just” the named instruments here, too: you can add in a tenor (the violinist sings), English horn, mandolin, piano.)

Add to that the fact that the oboist is drop-dead gorgeous and you’ve got … well … you’ve got me seething. I mean, what is with all these good looking oboists these days? Don’t they know they aren’t supposed to care about looks? They are supposed to be pale, sad and tired looking, due to all the hours spent in a room, all alone, working on oboe reeds. C’mon folks! ;-)

Or maybe I’m the only one who looks that way. And I don’t even spend enough time working on reeds.

Hmmm. Maybe I’ve got it backwards? Maybe working on reeds would make me look … I dunno … more appealing?

Naw. That’s not the ticket. I’m sure of it.

Anyway … ramble, ramble … I was hoping to find some opera DVDs at Tower, but I saw only one, and it would duplicate what we already have. Oh well. Better to not spend more money anyway.

I’ve written before about not knowing when it would be okay to correct a reviewer’s mistake(s). I’ve still not come to any conclusion. Part of me did want to ask the reviewer I linked to the other day, who enjoyed Sunday’s opera peformance, if he’d heard the rather major blunder, but I’ve decided I don’t even want to go there. Just not cool—it might sound like I’m attempting to correct the writer, even though I really am just curious.

But now there’s “Do I bother to correct a blogger?”

My first response is “Absolutely not!”

A blog is a blog is a blog; it’s not fact. It’s one person’s take on things.

But I have to admit I was confused when reading about a blogger’s concert-going experience. He/She heard the Imani Woodwind Quintet. For any of you not in the know, a Woodwind Quintet uses these instruments: flute, oboe, clarinet, French horn, bassoon. But the blogger said that the instruments played were clarinet, obeo, trumpet, flute and horn. Aside from the very-easy-to-do typo on the word oboe (I’ve done that myself!), I’m confused about the trumpet’s inclusion and the missing bassoon. Is this a mistake, or did the quintet deviate from the norm and do a switcheroo on the audience? How can this be? Hmmm.

The Imani Winds is a really fun group … I have several of their CDs, and I’m very impressed. Someday I’ll hear them live, I hope.

Needless to say, I won’t link to the blogger’s site; I don’t want to embarrass anyone or make the blogger think I’m putting him/her down. Again, not cool!

I am curious if any of you would feel like you need to correct the blogger, though. (I’m guessing someone in the Imani Winds would … IF it’s really a mistake.)

There’s an article about being an arts sort of person and having a family. Which makes me think …

Now of course I’m no famous musician. Heck, I’m not even half-famous (whatever that is; I just wanted to type “half-famous”). I’m just a part-time musician who manages to perform a fairly good amount.

I also teach, but I didn’t do that when the kids were younger. I just couldn’t handle the distraction of children and didn’t want to have to shush them all the time. So I took up teaching again when they were … hmm … I’m guessing the older two were middle or high school age. (Kids? Do you remember?) I did TRY to teach when Brandon was a little one, but realized early on that it wasn’t a great idea for me. (Some of my friends have no problem with it, but I sure did.)

I also realized, when the chidlren were younger, that I wouldn’t be practicing as much as I had before. Fortunately I had a lot of music learned already, and I managed to get practice time in at rehearsals … sad, I know … maybe even appalling! … but true.

And I was tired. Ever so tired. Almost all the time I was a bit of a walking zombie, to be honest.

When I was pregnant with our first I played up until my due date. Brandon (1982) was two weeks late. I then went back to work about two weeks after he was born. We didn’t have any choice; Midsummer Mozart was beginning then and I either went back to work or we were income-less. We survived. That was definitely the start of my zombie period, though.

With Kelsey (’85) I took a bit more time off. With Jameson (’89) even more. I suppose I was well aware, by that time, that the kids grew quickly. I wanted to enjoy them a bit more. And I wasn’t so uptight about missing work either.

Now part of the reason I managed to work and parent was due do Dan’s schedule. We did have to hire sitters frequently for the evening; Dan was stage manager of San Jose Symphony (RIP) for a while. But during the day I was, for the most part, home. So, according to Kelsey anyway, I appeared to be a stay-at-home-mom much of the time. I was able to pick them up from school most of the time. (Thankfully we had two grandmothers here who would pick up the slack for us, too. Thanks, you two!)

But my kids did seem to enjoy my working. Shoot, when I quit being music librarian of the symphony one of them even cried (I won’t say who!). The poor kiddo thought something fun was being taken away. Go figure. I had to reassure that child that yes, we’d still be going to symphony, and yes, they could still visit the stage and all.

Do I have regrets? A few. I definitely wish I had skipped a year of Midsummer Mozart. I wish I’d been home more often to tuck the kids in bed. I wish I hadn’t had to miss some of their performances. (I still kick myself about missing Brandon’s Mock Trial events.) I wish I had been more available. But hindsight ….

But at the same time, I think they kids have had a rather fun time being the children of musicians. (Dan used to play in symphony sometimes, and was certainly there a lot due to his stage managing job. Now he teaches music.) And all three appreciate music.

One thing I didn’t do (and wonder if this was a mistake): I never pushed music lessons on the kids. Most of my music pals with kids have had their children take lessons from quite early on. I just didn’t want to. I think part of it was selfish; I didn’t want to have to hound them to practice! Is that nuts? Brandon did play piano for a very brief time, and then took trumpet lessons as well. He didn’t keep up with either, though. (But now, you can see and hear what he does at his sites.) Kelsey sang in The Magic Flute when in middle school, and kept singing through high school. She’s still a music listener (but opera? Do you still listen, Kelsey?) and can do a pretty amazing job whistling (really!). Jameson sings. He sings very well. And he’s taken lessons on and off. (Schedules don’t allow for consistent lessons … that’s show biz, folks!) So all are certainly into music.

Did having children enrich my music making? I honestly don’t know! I do know it put things into perspective for someone who was so pronse to freak out over reeds and bad performances. I didn’t shed nearly as many tears regarding reeds and stupid music mistakes once they were born. Suddenly things like that weren’t so worth shooting myself over. Having children definitely made me a better teacher; I understand kids a bit more, and I think I know, for the most part, when to push and when to back off. Prior to having children I was much harsher. (Any students out there reading this? Can you imagine me being harsher? Am I too harsh now? I wonder.) And the kids certainly enriched my life. More than I can ever say. I can’t imagine a life without them. Not at all.

Just another disjointed ramble from yours truly … thinking about the past, and wondering what the kids will say to me twenty years from now.

Only time will tell.

I just ran across a facebook site that made me laugh. Really. You can only see the page if you belong to facebook, but I’ll share the front page blurb with you:

Name: Musicians against oboists who talk about reeds all the time!
Description: Do you ever try to have a nice conversation with an oboist and they redirect the subject to reeds. If you just don’t care about making american-style, long-scraped oboe reeds, or crap about cane selection, then join the club…

Hah! Very funny.

The site itself has nothing to offer. But that blurb was worth the read. (Not reed.) At least for me.

On A More Serious Note:
Is there really NO ONE OUT THERE who wants to make emusic.com suggestions for me? Gee. I’m feeling neglected. Sad. Unimportant. Crushed.

But never mind about me.

As I pondered earlier (see the paragraph after the bold Sluggish), I wondered how the audience reacted to Sunday’s opera performance. I thought it was sluggish. There was even one rather major mistake made by a singer. Nothing felt right to me.

Hah!

This is our best review yet.

So again, so much depends upon a red wheelbarrow* on the subjective.

*If you don’t understand that little joke, well, never mind!

Now Listening To
Werther by Massenet. For reasons to be announced later, I’m sure. (This is an opera I’m entirely unfamiliar with.)
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I always enjoy a good Denk blog. Sometimes he writes so poetically I’m ashamed to have even attempted poetry. Sometimes he’s very humorous. But this one is priceless! Especially for those of us in the Bay Area. I wish I could have attended the concert but you know how it goes … we performers are often performing when we’d like to attend a performance by someone else. Such is life.
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… please?!

I subscribe to emusic.com, and at the moment I just don’t know what to download. Is that silly or what? There are tons of recordings I can choose from. I’m just running on empty right now. So all you folks with free time (hah!), why don’t you check out emusic.com and tell me if there’s anything there you’d really love. Maybe you’ll introduce me to someone or something I’d love. I’m open to nearly any genre.

Enlighten me! :-)

I’ve received some mighty fine recordings via my subscription to emusic.com. If anyone out there wants to join the group, and feels like giving me some free downloads, I’d be happy to email you an emusic.com invitation. But even if you don’t want to do that, subscribing is pretty darn easy, and I’ve found it very handy. I’ve downloaded a lot of recordings I’ve needed for study purposes.

Speaking of little perks of this site, I want to thank someone out there (or is it “someones”?) who purchased music via this site, clicking on the Sheet Music Plus link. I actually received a small dividend because someone ordered music via my site. How kind of a reader. Thanks much!

Sluggish
I’d be so curious to hear from audience members of today’s opera performance. I found it slow and sluggish, but I wonder if that’s only because that’s how I’m feeling. Some colleagues and I were talking about this; sometimes our moods strongly affect how we perceive a performance. Anyone out there attend the show?

Not worth linking to, but go ahead and read this:

Many of you are painfully aware that I am a music composer. Since I hate most musicians, I call my works “noise concertos”.

Musicians have never liked me. I violate all their prissy little rules, I upset their theories, I delight in taboo knob-twiddling. “Don’t touch that dial,” they shriek with shrill, girlish hysteria, as I spin away and turn the music world upside down.

When I go to classical music concerts, I leave after the tuning up of instruments, which to me is the only music that is made during such events.

I suppose this “composer” finds non-musicians to play his compositions. What musician would want to deal with him? Heh.

Then there’s an interview with the poet, Bill Knott (sorry, I’ve never heard of him; I recognized a lot of poets’ names back when it thought I had poet talent, but these days I don’t know anyone, so if he’s got a “name” so much for me, eh?):

I don’t like music; I try to listen to as little of it as possible. Anybody who reads poetry can see the ubiquitous self-doubts poets evince regarding the validity/value of their art. Compare that to the eternally smug self-satisfied attitudes exhibited by the advocates and practitioners of music. They take it for granted that music is the highest art, the universal art, the only art that transcends all borders and babels. They never question that given assumption. The arrogance of composers and musicians is insufferable. They really believe Pater’s dictum that all the other arts are inferior, that all the other arts “aspire towards the condition of music.” But every military that ever marched out to murder rape and destroy was led by what art: were those armies fronted by poets extemporizing verse — by sculptors squeezing clay — by painters wielding brushes — actors posing soliloquies? No, the art that led those killers forth, the art whose urgent strident rhythms stirred and spurred their corresponding bloodlust, was the art to which they felt closest, the art that mirrored their evil egos. That’s why they have always put music up there at the vanguard of their war-ranks, because not only is it the emblem, the fore-thrust insignia of their purpose, it is their purpose: it is the condition to which they aspire.

Yep. That’s me. I just wanna go to war. I wanna play in the front lines. Yes, indeedy. Heck, I carry my own weapons … give me my knives and razor blades! And of course I’m superior. DUH. ;-)

And finally (for now) … from a teacher I assume is quite well-meaning with her music suggestions:

Music for Management – Classical music does focus the mind and stimulate creativity. How do I know? Because I’ve seen it in my room. I often play classical music as students enter the room. It sets a certain tone. Classical guitar music is excellent for testing situations. Students hear it, but don’t notice it much. It helps to isolate them by helping them focus on what’s in front of them. Testing is smoother (less distractions, inappropriate conversations, student movement) when I use this type of music. Gregorian Chant is great for quieting a room – but play it too long and students go to sleep. I used it during nap time with my preschool children! Lively, exciting music is great to wake students up, or to signal a transition from one activity to another.

Music for Instruction – I also use music in history lessons. You can’t teach the Harlem Renaissance (Caged Bird) without jazz, or World War I (nationalism) without Wagner. Justine Philyaw wrote that she uses music and art with her students because “creating a context for students builds motivation as well as strengthens understanding.” When I teach Gandhi, we listen to Indian music while contemplating important quotations. For world exploration, YoYo Ma’s Silk Road Project is perfect. Music in English class reinforces ideas about language. During Beowulf I found some early Celtic music and now I’m playing English Renaissance music for Canterbury Tales. This year we played Carrie Underwood in English 9 to introduce a discussion of revenge, and Johnny Cash for themes of personal journeys. I’ve invited a very creative student to create a soundtrack for her life for a project on autobiographies – her learning style is not word-based. I’ve used musical instruments as transition tools, or for cultural experience, or for teaching the importance of teamwork. When I incorporate music into my lesson it always gives me “bonus points” on my observations. Sometimes students say “Oh no, Mrs. Denney has music again!” But they always listen, because they’re curious. And curiosity is the first step towards learning.

Music for Pleasure – sometimes music is just for enjoyment. During independent work time I’ve played Disney themes, blues, and contemporary music just because it sounds good. Students are invited to contribute music to listen to. But I’m careful about what I play. I have a 40-minute ride each way to school – so I have car time to review a CD lent by a student before using it in class. That also builds a relationship between the student and myself. I also scout the public library’s collection for new material.

Are you nodding your head, agreeing with her or are you bothered? I wonder.

Me? I’m not entirely thrilled, although i appreciate her desire to include music. I don’t mind using music in class. In fact I would encourage it. But while it sounds as if the teacher is encouraging listening in some instances, she’s using music as background in others. I hate background music—to me it implies that the music is unimportant. And for some of us, music can’t be in the background. I’m afraid I’d find it rather difficult to take a test if music was playing … I’d have to block it out. Am I the only one?

Oh probably. Nothing new, yes?

Okay, enough of this silliness. I just ran across these sites and figured I’d share with readers. I’m nice that way.

Or not.

EVELYN GLENNIE, one of Scotland’s most prominent musicians, has issued an urgent call for all music industry figures to rethink how classical concerts are performed to stop audiences dwindling away.

In an open letter to music professionals, the solo percussionist, profoundly deaf since aged 12, raises “huge concerns” about the experience that orchestras are offering 21st century audiences.

Urging the need for debate, Glennie questions the traditional concert presentation, claiming that, while orchestras have all the right ingredients to make a great “cocktail”, they have remained “sitting in a glass, needing to be shaken or stirred”.

Comparing pop concerts with their classical equivalents, she asks why “a questionably talented teenager can fill a 50,000-seat stadium with top priced tickets when a hugely talented 100-piece orchestra struggles to fill 1000-2000 seat venues?”

RTWT here

Hmmm. Here we go again.

I just don’t like comparing what we do to what a pop star does. We don’t do pop music. Big whoop. We aren’t going to appeal to everyone. And I doubt we will ever have a crowd cheering and standing and flicking their lighters (or whatever it is they do) while we play. I can live with that. I don’t look down on a great rock performer, but I don’t want to become one. That’s not what we do.

Sure, I want to introduce “my” kind of music to more people. Sure, I’m excited when someone new joins the “classical” music crowd. But I’m just not all that into trying to turn what we do into pop music.

Other Glennie Concerns:

Glennie wonders if our black is “relevant”. Sigh. I hate that word! Give me a break … please! I want black, thank you. It is less distracting to have us in black and, besides, I don’t have to think much when I dress for a concert! I’m fine with nixing tails. Tails are old and out-dated and, I’ve been told, not terribly comfortable. if you ask me, they are entirely unnecessary.

No warming up on stage? Well, the woman doesn’t play a reed instrument, that’s for sure. We prefer to get out on stage and see what our pesky reeds are doing that day. Will we find that the ones that behaved well the day before have decided to rebel? It can happen.

I do believe we can be less raucous that we often are (when I feel as if I should plug my ears perhaps we are a bit out of hand. Ya think?). Glennie says that opera, ballet and theatre folks don’t warm up on stage and perhaps we shouldn’t either. It seems to me that that comparison is a bit weak. We are presenting music, not a drama. We aren’t characters, merely musicians. But as I said, I could go with a gentler warming up. I’d be fine with that.

Then there’s this:

Lighting and sound effects, like those used frequently in the pop world, could enhance performances, insists Glennie, who is frustrated by the classical music industry’s sense of superiority.

ARGH! Sound effects?! I can’t even imagine! I’m sure a composer would just love that one. And lighting? I remember doing some pops concerts where they tried changing light colors as we played different styles of music. To me it just came across as totally corny. Maybe I’m in the minority, but I was embarrassed by the whole thing.

As to a sense of superiority … sure … some folks think we are superior. Me? I think we are different. I used to think pop and rock singers really thought they were superior to us too. And I’ve certainly been told by some who love that music that they are superior to us. Let’s face it; very often folks think what they love is superior to what someone else loves. That’s life. But mostly I just think we do different things and because of that they are done differently. (I do crack up when a rock concert decides to hire some of us classically trained folk; we are told to dress in our best black and they usually put us in some kind of prominent place behind them. No one can hear us, but they can see us. And I suspect some think it adds “class” to the show. I don’t mean to sound harsh here, but that’s how it has looked to me. (No, I’ve not played a lot of these, but I’ve done a few. And, I’ll be honest and say I really love doing them even while feeling merely like a visual aid. No superiority here. Just puzzlement over the all of it—if they can’t hear us why are we there?)

Another person quoted in the article says:

Some people say it’s just about the music – but if it was they could stay at home and listen to a CD.

I know some people who feel that way. I seem to recall that Terry Teachout has said he’ll never attend concerts of certain composers ever again. I respect the man, but I have to say that a live performance is just so different than a CD, and while he won’t miss a live performance, I think a number of people would. There is a difference. If you’ve not attended a live performance please go to a few and then tell me if it was the same as sitting and listening to a CD. If so, you will join the TT camp. That’s okay. I’ll deal. ;-)

But anyway, I just found the article a few minutes ago and I suspect a few other readers (bloggers) who will have a fit when they read it, while some will be rejoicing.

Even we old stuck-in-the-mud classical folk can’t seem to agree on things. Go figure.