oboeinsight

Classical music younger, hipper than late-night TV

Yep. That’s what he says. And I loved his book, so I know this must be true. (Yes, that’s how my mind works!)

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Now, after 500 performances, our producers have told us and our union that in order to cut costs they will chop our string section in half, releasing five musicians and “replacing” them with a synthesizer piped in from another room. I don’t think Lenny would have approved.

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I know Dan can relate to this (“TH is Thomas Hampson):

Q: Is it true that you first discovered Mahler’s music on a car stereo?

TH: Yes. I was young – probably 19 or 20 – I discovered Mahler while listening to a cassette recording of his First Symphony that I had checked out from the local public library in Spokane, WA. It was Seiji Ozawa conducting. I was on the road between Spokane and Idaho, where I was shuttling back and forth to teach at a community college. I listened to all sorts of things in the car, and was driving my little Toyota Celica down the freeway. As the symphony pulled me in I was slowing down more and more to pay attention. I wasn’t inebriated, of course, and there was no bad weather to slow me down, but there I was driving 30 miles an hour on a freeway. At that point I pulled over at a rest stop to avoid causing an accident, and wound up being an hour late. From that point on I started talking to other musicians non-stop about Mahler. I started to listen to his symphonies, and quit listening in the car!

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Jason Robert Brown had an exchange with a teen about copyright issues and taking his music for free. With her permission he posted the exchanges they had. I think everyone who “borrows” or “trades” music should read it. I doubt it’ll change the minds of every thief … um … I mean trader … but perhaps some will begin to understand.

Here’s something to entice you, by the young trader of music that is not her own:

I’ve taken down your music, but if you’re really Jason Robert Brown, I’d like to ask you a question. Why are you doing this? I just searched you on this site and all of the stuff that people have of yours up there say that it’s “Not for Trade Per Composer’s Request.” Did you think about the aspiring actors and actresses who really need some good sheet music? If you’re really who you claim to be, then I assume you know that Parade, Last Five Years, 13 The Musical, etc. are all genius pieces of work and that a lot of people who would love to have that sheet music can’t afford it. Thus the term “starving artist.” Performers really need quick and easy ways to attain good sheet music and you’re stopping a lot of people from getting what they need. It matters a great deal to them that they can get it for free. Why does it matter so much to you that they don’t?

Sigh. Grumble. Scream.

If we start valuing music only for its advantageous cognitive side-effects – as a kind of multivitamin for the brain – and not because it cultivates our humanity, we’ll have forfeited its soul.

That is from this article which talks about how music is good for your brain.

Ah, Ms. Netrebko:

On conductors

“There are two types of conductors. One is the good conductor who can do passionate music, but also listen to the singers and do the orchestra. And then there are great conductors, who have their own opinion on the music, who are ruling everything – and not listening much to the singers, but the orchestra play amazingly. I prefer it when the conductor follows me. It is more difficult to work with a conductor who does not listen – even if I understand that sometimes it makes sense when one person is ruling everything. But for bel canto, I have to have a conductor who listens and supports me.”

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The above is only a brief taste. You really have to read it all.

It seems that those who call for the end of classical music, or at the very least are saying that it is too elitist are actually being elitist themselves. They are calling orginizations with very poorly paid musicians unnecessary, when millions is spent on sports which are equally or less important culturally. Perfection does not exist, and in music quality is in the ear of the listener.

In Mr. Teachout’s article for the Wall Street Journal he states that why pay to listen to a mediocre performance of an old warhorse when you can get a copy of the piece on iTunes for next to nothing. Somehow he feels that the live experience is of no value; strange seeing as he is a theatre advocate. As a musician and parent I have been to many performances of school ensembles when things have been less than perfect. That doesn’t mean that I was not moved by what I heard or profoundly touched by the enthusiasm of the performers.

Please do read the whole thing!

Hearing and watching the “Resurrection” unfold in the presence of an enormous orchestra, a large choir, vocal soloists and seatmates all around me makes the listening experience immediate and communal. I am caught up in the music differently from how I get caught up with music on headphones. In the concert hall, I witness the physical unfolding of it, the effort to produce the notes, the rhythmic beat of the conductor, the tension of executing it well. Live listening is how Mahler intended his music to be received.

Not all music today is written for communal consumption (video games, for example), but most concert music is.

No matter how fine a recording, I am always aware that it is an artificial medium, a relay from the original “signal.” The effort of execution is absent, the tension of whether the trumpet will nail the solos is gone.

A few years ago, I watched the Oregon East Symphony in Pendleton (pop. 17,000) come back from a fire that destroyed its offices to play Mahler’s First Symphony, a work that was clearly beyond many of the players. But the performance was electrifying — the struggle, the failures, the fear, the exultation.

I read it here. Do read the whole thing! It is in response to Mr. Teachout’s article.

Drew McManus has posted a response to the Teachout article. It is well worth the read.

I really have enjoyed much of what Teachout writes. Yet I was only sorry, not at all surprised, by his article on regional orchestras. Teachout is a theatre critic. I can’t remember reading about a symphony concert he was dying to attend. I can remember his saying he never wanted to attend another concert that would include certain works. He loves art and loves to talk about the wonderful artwork on his walls. I know he reads, because he’ll share books with us on occasion, and certainly loves to share quotes.

I like to share quotes too.

The problem is that critics have a way of forgetting that many, perhaps most of the people who come to hear a performance of the “Eroica” or see a staging of “The Cherry Orchard” are experiencing it for the very first time.

-Terry Teachout

COMPLAINT DEPARTMENT
Over the years there has been a constant argument about when an audience should applaud. Certainly at the end of a piece, unless they are bored or hate it, in which case boos are appropriate. But what to do in the case of Concerti, where after a virtuoso display, including cadenza in the first movement, there is a rush to positive judgment in the form of clapping?
I have no problem with this. In fact, it is part of tradition, going back to at least the classical age. No one is sure when this was considered bad form, much less who started discouraging the expression of satisfaction. It is certainly preferable to coughing.
The trouble lies with the symphonic canon, and since we were playing one of the most glaring examples of premature applause, Tchaik 6, the situation was bound to come up. Surprisingly, almost every concert I did on this trip had at least one moment of audience participation earlier than expected. In Lyon, it was after the first movement, not of Rachmaninov’s 3rd Concerto but the 3rd Symphony. Frankfurt heard a ripple after the 1st movement of the Fantastique.
At the end of the 3rd movement in the 6th, I held up my hands to try and keep the sound of silence the order of the evening. No luck. In fact there was quite an ovation. I thought we could leave the stage and only a few people would notice that we did not play the last movement. But still, the applause here does not bother me. It seems natural.
However, at the end of the symphony, there is the most sublime sound of lower strings, fading as if the last breath of the composer were being pulled from his chest. We had played a beautiful pianissimo and I did not bring my arms down or even give a cut-off for the orchestra. One gentleman in the seats to my left and behind the orchestra began to cheer and applaud. A few others joined in and then most people realized we were not quite finished and it stopped. But it was too late. The damage to the moment was done and I could only bring my arms down and try to compose myself.
It is a fine line between letting the audience express itself and stepping beyond the boundary. Some orchestras print guidelines in the program book. A few conductors glare at the patrons, possibly risking embarrassment to all. There is really not much that we can do, other than hope that people know a little bit as to what is expected of them.

I read it here.

I’ve never had the opportunity to play in an orchestra conducted by Mr. Slatkin. I haven’t a clue what he’s like. But I do enjoy his blog entries (or “notes” as he calls them). I know there has been some discussion about him recently regarding the whole Met/Slatkin/Gheorgiu thing, since he has now give his side of the story, but I’m just not into going there so if you want conversation about that you’ll have to travel elsewhere.