Most people think we start our season on Opening Night, hence the name "Opening Night." But in fact, like sports teams, we also have quite a pre-season slew of events happen BEFORE Opening Night. We consider them "friendly matches" as well, a way to warm up into the routine and intensity of the season.
This week, literally taking my sports metaphor onto the playing field, we "played" at a Texans pre-season game against the Tampa Buckaneers (yarrgh! avast!). I say "played" because at halftime, we all trooped out onto the field (on the carefully assigned path, if there's one thing professional sports teams do NOT want you doing is messing up their turf, be it astro- or otherwise) in our concert blacks (appropriate football gear, dontcha think?) and proceeded to "play" the last movement of Tchaikovsky's Fourth Symphony. But as any rodeo-goer who has heard a concert in the Reliant Stadium can tell you, you can't "hear" a "concert" in the Reliant Stadium. It is, to put it in technical terms, follow me closely here, A F-R-I-G-G-I-N-' M-E-S-S. A noise soup. An indistinguishable slop-bucket of sound. You see, in such a cavernous space, there is something like a 3 minute reverb, and every different part of the stadium hears at different times yet also all at once.
Even with all modern technology has to offer, the best we can do is take a pre-recorded snippet of music (Tchaikovsky) and then do what legions of Guitar Hero fans have been doing for years before the gaming instrument of their salvation was invented- air viola. Or air trumpet, or air snare drum. You get the idea. But therein lies the rub- it turns out professional musicians really CAN'T air-play. It's really hard!
So there we were, in our concert blacks, trying not to let our heels and endpins mar the turf, trying to look like we WERE playing for the fans and cameras, in accompaniment to music that once we HAD played, but without making a sound. Some instruments just simply cannot do this, and every now and then the aurally restrained music coming out in real time would TOTALLY clash with what we were kind of hearing (you still have to keep in mind the reverb, even with amplified assist) out of the speakers. That is the worst kind of nails-on-chalkboard kind of thing to professional musicians, so then you had everyone trying to compensate not only to each other but also the recorded sound, end result= cacophony.
Well, at least to us on the field. But to the people in the stands, I think all they heard (in a beery sort of way) was that there was a REALLY COOL piece being played by an ACTUAL SYMPHONY during halftime at a football game. I like to think the ring of cacophony ended a foot outside our circle, letting the fans hear only the intended music. There were high-fives and cheers all around as we left the field, a hero's reception. Just like a scene from Friday Night Lights.
I'd do it again. Anything that de-mystifies "scary" classical music to the people is fine by me. Only next time, I gotta practice my air-Tchaikovsky.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
How long does it take to install a choir?
I've been quite busy since the last entry, my faithful bloggie lurkers, playing upon my little viola here, on the East Coast, and south of the border. In the process I've gotten some perspective on how differently things work around the world:
In case you didn't know, in the U.S. orchestras are run by boards and committees comprised of philanthropic volunteers that meet and vote to hire the executive staff, management and even conductor, who then are responsible for hiring other staff and musicians. Except for small governmental educational and community grants for community projects, all of the money must be raised and comes from donations from individuals, foundations, and corporations. Ticket sales only make up about 30% of the income. But south of the border (and almost everywhere but in the USA) orchestras are completely government-supported. The money comes from the government, and the staff and management are government employees and answer to the Ministry of Culture. Pros: Ticket prices in Mexico are quite low and as a result, the act of going to a classical concert is commonplace. The audiences are diverse in age and financial status. Classical music is accessible to everyone; there is no stigma of elitism to intimidate people from coming to cultural events, and more people are educated about it. Cons: Since the government has the final say on matters of salary and artistic production, things move at the lightning speed of corrupt bureaucracy. And when musicians want to take any action it often becomes quite politically drastic. I heard accounts of hunger strikes by conductors trying to hang on to their positions. Even better, apparently there was a certain section of the orchestra that at one point decided to try and kidnap that week's guest conductor by sending him a note to his hotel saying that the rehearsal location had been changed, and a "taxi" (driven presumably by the kidnapper's accomplices) would come to pick him up to take him to the new location (luckily, the plot was foiled).
Here in the U.S., such shenanigans would never fly, though that doesn't stop us from occasionally fantasizing. I DID hear a great story from a friend of mine who happens to have just joined our Board of Directors (a.k.a. the philanthropic volunteers). She loves Mahler's Second Symphony so much that she actually sneaked into the choir to sing the performance (this was a University concert, not a professional symphonic one). She dressed like the chorus members and shared a seat with her friend/accomplice on the chorus risers. I admire her chutzpah, but I don't recommend trying this at your Houston Symphony concerts!! Our tough stagehands will manhandle you off stage. One of them used to be in the circus, you know.
Speaking of Mahler 2, was anyone else stymied at the very long pause between movements 2 and 3 of our Mahler performance earlier this month? Traditionally this is when the choir comes on stage. Since they don't sing until the end of the last movement, it is kinder than having them wait over an hour before uttering a note. But choirs are not known for their hustle. It must be something about the robes, and the processional nature of a large group of singers navigating risers and safety rails. They were nothing if not..STATELY. It made me wonder-just how long does it take to install a choir anyway? I bet in Mexico they would've moved a little faster-Safety rails? we don't need no steenkin' safety rails!
Tonight through this weekend we are performing our last subcription concert of the season. It is a Spanish-flavored program -two pieces of De Falla, Rimsky-Korsakov's Capriccio Espagnol, and featuring Rodrigo's Guitar Concerto, performed by Elliot Fisk. The Chronicle featured a piece on him yesterday that said he was "the last student of famed classical guitarist Andres Segovia to achieve an international career." Which begs the question- what about Charo (whose real name is María del Rosario Pilar Martínez Molina Baeza Rasten)? She "cuchi-cuchi'd" her way across the deck of the Love Boat all throughout the 1970's. THEY were cruising international waters. She also studied with Segovia. I'd call that an "international career."
In case you didn't know, in the U.S. orchestras are run by boards and committees comprised of philanthropic volunteers that meet and vote to hire the executive staff, management and even conductor, who then are responsible for hiring other staff and musicians. Except for small governmental educational and community grants for community projects, all of the money must be raised and comes from donations from individuals, foundations, and corporations. Ticket sales only make up about 30% of the income. But south of the border (and almost everywhere but in the USA) orchestras are completely government-supported. The money comes from the government, and the staff and management are government employees and answer to the Ministry of Culture. Pros: Ticket prices in Mexico are quite low and as a result, the act of going to a classical concert is commonplace. The audiences are diverse in age and financial status. Classical music is accessible to everyone; there is no stigma of elitism to intimidate people from coming to cultural events, and more people are educated about it. Cons: Since the government has the final say on matters of salary and artistic production, things move at the lightning speed of corrupt bureaucracy. And when musicians want to take any action it often becomes quite politically drastic. I heard accounts of hunger strikes by conductors trying to hang on to their positions. Even better, apparently there was a certain section of the orchestra that at one point decided to try and kidnap that week's guest conductor by sending him a note to his hotel saying that the rehearsal location had been changed, and a "taxi" (driven presumably by the kidnapper's accomplices) would come to pick him up to take him to the new location (luckily, the plot was foiled).
Here in the U.S., such shenanigans would never fly, though that doesn't stop us from occasionally fantasizing. I DID hear a great story from a friend of mine who happens to have just joined our Board of Directors (a.k.a. the philanthropic volunteers). She loves Mahler's Second Symphony so much that she actually sneaked into the choir to sing the performance (this was a University concert, not a professional symphonic one). She dressed like the chorus members and shared a seat with her friend/accomplice on the chorus risers. I admire her chutzpah, but I don't recommend trying this at your Houston Symphony concerts!! Our tough stagehands will manhandle you off stage. One of them used to be in the circus, you know.
Speaking of Mahler 2, was anyone else stymied at the very long pause between movements 2 and 3 of our Mahler performance earlier this month? Traditionally this is when the choir comes on stage. Since they don't sing until the end of the last movement, it is kinder than having them wait over an hour before uttering a note. But choirs are not known for their hustle. It must be something about the robes, and the processional nature of a large group of singers navigating risers and safety rails. They were nothing if not..STATELY. It made me wonder-just how long does it take to install a choir anyway? I bet in Mexico they would've moved a little faster-Safety rails? we don't need no steenkin' safety rails!
Tonight through this weekend we are performing our last subcription concert of the season. It is a Spanish-flavored program -two pieces of De Falla, Rimsky-Korsakov's Capriccio Espagnol, and featuring Rodrigo's Guitar Concerto, performed by Elliot Fisk. The Chronicle featured a piece on him yesterday that said he was "the last student of famed classical guitarist Andres Segovia to achieve an international career." Which begs the question- what about Charo (whose real name is María del Rosario Pilar Martínez Molina Baeza Rasten)? She "cuchi-cuchi'd" her way across the deck of the Love Boat all throughout the 1970's. THEY were cruising international waters. She also studied with Segovia. I'd call that an "international career."
Monday, March 24, 2008
Midterm Q and A
OK readers, I've gotten a few questions unrelated to the subjects of my blog posts in the last couple of days, and they are good questions, so I am going to post them (and my answers) here. Hopefully that will generate a whole slew of queries on all and sundry HS type subjects, which I will be happy to answer HERE in this blog thread.
Q: I called the symphony the other day to ask a question about the upcoming Saint-Saens organ symphony.The customer service rep said that wind instruments would be used in place of the organ, as there is no organ in Jones Hall. Is that true? In that case I might spend the extra money and see the Beethoven seventh even tho it's not a wavelength concert. (Didn't you say the seventh was your fav?) -John
A: Hi John, it's true there isn't a pipe organ in Jones Hall; however, we usually use something the musicians not-so-affectionately refer to as "the mighty Wurlitzer" (an electric beast-think funeral home dirge). The word backstage last time I asked was that there is a "new solution," and it will be "much better." There IS an official organist listed on the program- and a very fine player- Matthew Dirst, so I know the part will not be distributed *gasp* to the winds, but sadly it will not be a traditional pipe organ. Maybe all you organ aficionados can start a grass-roots campaign for the city to install one in Jones Hall, or better yet, build us a real Symphony Hall (Jones is "multi-purpose") with a wheezy, be-piped organ beast of our very own.
Q: I called the symphony the other day to ask a question about the upcoming Saint-Saens organ symphony.The customer service rep said that wind instruments would be used in place of the organ, as there is no organ in Jones Hall. Is that true? In that case I might spend the extra money and see the Beethoven seventh even tho it's not a wavelength concert. (Didn't you say the seventh was your fav?) -John
A: Hi John, it's true there isn't a pipe organ in Jones Hall; however, we usually use something the musicians not-so-affectionately refer to as "the mighty Wurlitzer" (an electric beast-think funeral home dirge). The word backstage last time I asked was that there is a "new solution," and it will be "much better." There IS an official organist listed on the program- and a very fine player- Matthew Dirst, so I know the part will not be distributed *gasp* to the winds, but sadly it will not be a traditional pipe organ. Maybe all you organ aficionados can start a grass-roots campaign for the city to install one in Jones Hall, or better yet, build us a real Symphony Hall (Jones is "multi-purpose") with a wheezy, be-piped organ beast of our very own.
However, you should ALSO come to Beethoven 7th, because it IS THE BEST PIECE EVER WRITTEN ON THE PLANET.
Q. Hi Rita, Just a quick note to follow up. I am totally hooked on your blog! It makes me wish I had stuck with violin all those years ago. I made a mistake in "Lightly Row" in my first performance at age 6 and refused to ever play again! Thanks again, Kris
A. Hi Kris, glad you like it! Were you a Suzuki Method student? I was- and my mother tricked me into my first concert at age 5- I had no idea what was going on, was pushed onto stage and when the curtain went up and I saw all those people- tears!!! I think it was "Lightly Row" as well! That piece should be banned!! Ha! Think of all the money made by therapists over the years on "Lightly Row Trauma Syndrome" or LRTS!!
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
My pal Louie
Everyone knows a guy like my pal Louie. Intensely awkward, prone to say the wrong thing in delicate social situations, always falling for the wrong or unavailable girl...my pal Louie was one of those guys. A kind person would call him stocky, but no matter what, his clothes never fit right. More often than not you'd see him striding down the street with shirt misbuttoned, clothes not matching, hair untamed, muttering to himself. He existed in his own very rich inner world, with the frequent consequence of passionate outbursts that had no relation to the situation or topic at hand. Louie was slightly paranoid and when he was younger, prone to delusions of grandeur. Having had a difficult relationship with his alcoholic father (a dour, frustrated man who worked in a thankless government position) and highly protective of and devoted to his mother, at one point he became convinced that he was not his father's son; according to Louie, his mother must have conceived him with a better-bred, more intelligent man.
If Necessity is the mother of invention, then Hardship is the father of inspiration. Like many a genius -for make no mistake, Louie was a genius- his early life was shaped by tragedy and hardship. When he was 16 his mother died, followed shortly by his baby sister. Louie became the de facto head of the family, responsible for the welfare of his father and brothers. Having already exceeded his father's skills, he petitioned and got permission from his father's bosses to receive half of his father's salary. This would ensure that Louie would have the money to use in support of his family, rather than drunk away on a bar stool. The employer agreed to this on the one condition that his father retire immediately and perhaps even leave town; however, Louie never had the heart to rob his father of all dignity in this way, so he never went through with the petition.
So you see, for all his lack of social skills, paranoid fantasies and general irascibility, Louie had an awful lot of heart. And after the death of his burdensome father, Louie's early adulthood was marked by productivity and success. Though he tried to alienate them with his gruff manner and blunt honesty, he managed to flourish with the help and intervention of his friends, who discreetly did things like replace his old clothes with new, find him places to live and work undisturbed, take him on holidays in the country. All for the simple fact that when they were around him, they couldn't help but feel that they were in the presence of something like a higher genius, an incredible force that represented perhaps the best humanity could ever dare to offer.
Any psychologist will tell you that people who have experienced loss and responsibility such as Louie had in his teens, become wary of good fortune. They may feel like they don't deserve it; they may feel like nothing good can ever happen to them. It is like a superstition; and Louie remarked about it to one of his friends at the time: "Sometimes I feel that all this undeserved fame will drive me crazy; for once, good luck is seeking ME and because of that I dread a fresh disaster." Self-fulfilling prophecy or not, the worst tragedy was still to come. Louie, the genius musician, for whom the ability to hear, analyze and create sounds was of paramount importance, was slowly going deaf. "For almost two years," he wrote to a doctor friend, "I have ceased to attend any social functions, just because I find it impossible to say to people, 'I am deaf.' If I had any other profession I might be able to cope with this sickness, but in my profession it is a terrible handicap. And if my enemies, of whom I have a fair number, were to hear about it, what would they say?"
Poor Louie! Cut off from everything precious to him! Forced into seclusion to be even more misunderstood than he already was, just when life was becoming less of a hardship. This stunning development sent him into the most violent mood swings, and at age 28, he wrote a goodbye letter to his brothers: "..men who think I am malevolent, stubborn, or misanthropic, how greatly you wrong me... from childhood on, my heart and soul have been full of the tender feeling of goodwill, and I was inclined to accomplish great things...though born with a fiery, active temperament, susceptible to the diversions of society, I was soon compelled to withdraw myself...I must live alone, like one banished...if I approach near to people a hot terror seizes me, and I fear being exposed-that my condition might be noticed....driven to despair....I would have ended my life..it was only my ART that held me back."
I spent one crazy night in Vienna years ago, armed with a Sony Walkman (*gasp*, pre iPod!) full of his music. As I played it, I wandered to each place where Louie had written that particular piece. Though I could never know if what I heard through the headphones was what he heard in his own head, I wanted to see what he saw with his eyes, smelled the old cobblestone, brick, and musty corridors, touched the surfaces..I wanted to try to recreate his environment of creation, of all the senses, save one, cruelly left to perhaps the greatest musical mind of all time.
Our Louie.
for another Beethoven immersion experience, please attend our daylong Beethoven festival in Jones Hall this Saturday, March 8, from 10 am- 11 pm. Symphonies, quartets, trios, sonatas, dramatic works, a film and lectures will be presented, along with the presence of actual Louie DNA, a lock of the master's hair (and the analysis of that, boys and girls, we will save for another blog).
If Necessity is the mother of invention, then Hardship is the father of inspiration. Like many a genius -for make no mistake, Louie was a genius- his early life was shaped by tragedy and hardship. When he was 16 his mother died, followed shortly by his baby sister. Louie became the de facto head of the family, responsible for the welfare of his father and brothers. Having already exceeded his father's skills, he petitioned and got permission from his father's bosses to receive half of his father's salary. This would ensure that Louie would have the money to use in support of his family, rather than drunk away on a bar stool. The employer agreed to this on the one condition that his father retire immediately and perhaps even leave town; however, Louie never had the heart to rob his father of all dignity in this way, so he never went through with the petition.
So you see, for all his lack of social skills, paranoid fantasies and general irascibility, Louie had an awful lot of heart. And after the death of his burdensome father, Louie's early adulthood was marked by productivity and success. Though he tried to alienate them with his gruff manner and blunt honesty, he managed to flourish with the help and intervention of his friends, who discreetly did things like replace his old clothes with new, find him places to live and work undisturbed, take him on holidays in the country. All for the simple fact that when they were around him, they couldn't help but feel that they were in the presence of something like a higher genius, an incredible force that represented perhaps the best humanity could ever dare to offer.
Any psychologist will tell you that people who have experienced loss and responsibility such as Louie had in his teens, become wary of good fortune. They may feel like they don't deserve it; they may feel like nothing good can ever happen to them. It is like a superstition; and Louie remarked about it to one of his friends at the time: "Sometimes I feel that all this undeserved fame will drive me crazy; for once, good luck is seeking ME and because of that I dread a fresh disaster." Self-fulfilling prophecy or not, the worst tragedy was still to come. Louie, the genius musician, for whom the ability to hear, analyze and create sounds was of paramount importance, was slowly going deaf. "For almost two years," he wrote to a doctor friend, "I have ceased to attend any social functions, just because I find it impossible to say to people, 'I am deaf.' If I had any other profession I might be able to cope with this sickness, but in my profession it is a terrible handicap. And if my enemies, of whom I have a fair number, were to hear about it, what would they say?"
Poor Louie! Cut off from everything precious to him! Forced into seclusion to be even more misunderstood than he already was, just when life was becoming less of a hardship. This stunning development sent him into the most violent mood swings, and at age 28, he wrote a goodbye letter to his brothers: "..men who think I am malevolent, stubborn, or misanthropic, how greatly you wrong me... from childhood on, my heart and soul have been full of the tender feeling of goodwill, and I was inclined to accomplish great things...though born with a fiery, active temperament, susceptible to the diversions of society, I was soon compelled to withdraw myself...I must live alone, like one banished...if I approach near to people a hot terror seizes me, and I fear being exposed-that my condition might be noticed....driven to despair....I would have ended my life..it was only my ART that held me back."
I spent one crazy night in Vienna years ago, armed with a Sony Walkman (*gasp*, pre iPod!) full of his music. As I played it, I wandered to each place where Louie had written that particular piece. Though I could never know if what I heard through the headphones was what he heard in his own head, I wanted to see what he saw with his eyes, smelled the old cobblestone, brick, and musty corridors, touched the surfaces..I wanted to try to recreate his environment of creation, of all the senses, save one, cruelly left to perhaps the greatest musical mind of all time.
Our Louie.
for another Beethoven immersion experience, please attend our daylong Beethoven festival in Jones Hall this Saturday, March 8, from 10 am- 11 pm. Symphonies, quartets, trios, sonatas, dramatic works, a film and lectures will be presented, along with the presence of actual Louie DNA, a lock of the master's hair (and the analysis of that, boys and girls, we will save for another blog).
Friday, January 18, 2008
Are You Interested in Photography?
Run, don't walk, over to the Houston Symphony this weekend for a stunning production of Strauss' Alpensinfonie, accompanied by photos taken by photographer/cellist Tobias Melle.
The photos are projected on a giant screen over the orchestra and change with the various points of narrative in Strauss' music. Since the name of the piece is "The Alpine Symphony," you can infer the subject of the photo montage. Thanks to today's technology, all sorts of fade in/out effects are seamlessly used (though at one point during the dress rehearsal today, I experienced a little motion sickness- the panoramic shot that panned a little too fast).
Richard Strauss is one of the few composers that dealt almost exclusively in program music; that is to say, music that is composed specifically with a story in mind. In music this is not quite as obvious as it is in art, (think Soup Cans vs. splatters) but really most of the time with "Program Music" the themes and their subjects are pretty obvious. But hey, this is America, home of "Are You Smarter Than a Fifth Grader?" where apparently it PAYS to be obvious.
My small tangent of bitter dissatisfaction with the dumbing down of our country aside, in the case of this production, the photos really do add to the piece. Its like accessing visual umami (take THAT "Are You Smarter Than a Fifth Grader!!"). It adds another dimension to the listening experience that actually in adding, creates something more than the sum of its parts. People who have experienced listening to great works of music while traveling through breathtaking scenery may know of what I speak.
While I have yet to find light waterproof speakers with sufficient decibel levels that I can attach to my hiking daypack, I have had moments like this while driving at top speed through the Arizona desert at night, blasting either Elgar's or Dvorak's Cello Concerto through the car stereo with the windows rolled down. And here's an eerie coincidence- we are ALSO, on the same program, playing Elgar's Cello Concerto with our Principal Cellist Brinton Averil Smith as the soloist. There won't be any accompanying scenery for the Elgar, you will have to use something called "your imagination" for that one. But never fear, the multi media show commences at the start of the second half, and you will be pulled along with us on the breathtaking journey.
I hope to see you there (though you won't see me, we will be in the dark) and welcome any descriptions of musical umami from you loyal readers! Where were you and what was playing when you had your transcendental experience? Inquiring minds want to know!
Thursday, November 29, 2007
All Dressed Up and Nowhere to Go
Top Ten Things To Do During the Writer's Guild Strike of 2007
10. Watch Baywatch reruns on TV Land. Long live the Hoff!
9. In keeping with the Star Trek-Boston Legal connection, try to convince Majel Barrett Roddenberry to create some new storylines to keep William Shatner's cash flow going.
8. Catch up on some Holiday Catalog reading.
7. Convince yourself that reality TV outside of anything starring Gordon Ramsey is really interesting.
6. Start laminating Houston Symphony trading cards to enhance their eBay value.
5. Have some fun with your friends' heads on JibJab.
4. Go through the HS Wavelength Blog Archives, and see how fun it is to read this blog, translated into pirate-speak. Arrr!
3. Fer Pete's sake, go outside and get some fresh air!! Run! Bike! Walk your dog!
2. Now that you're not sitting ON the couch, fish under the cushions and take all your newfound wealth to the Houston Symphony Store and buy Symphomaniac merchandise for all your loved ones for Christmas.
and the number one thing to do during the Writer's Guild Strike of 2007 is:
1. Get your sorry self to the Houston Symphony this Friday, Saturday, or Sunday to see how many percussion instruments Evelyn Glennie needs to drown out a symphony orchestra!!! Oh, and the Prokoviev is pretty good, too.
10. Watch Baywatch reruns on TV Land. Long live the Hoff!
9. In keeping with the Star Trek-Boston Legal connection, try to convince Majel Barrett Roddenberry to create some new storylines to keep William Shatner's cash flow going.
8. Catch up on some Holiday Catalog reading.
7. Convince yourself that reality TV outside of anything starring Gordon Ramsey is really interesting.
6. Start laminating Houston Symphony trading cards to enhance their eBay value.
5. Have some fun with your friends' heads on JibJab.
4. Go through the HS Wavelength Blog Archives, and see how fun it is to read this blog, translated into pirate-speak. Arrr!
3. Fer Pete's sake, go outside and get some fresh air!! Run! Bike! Walk your dog!
2. Now that you're not sitting ON the couch, fish under the cushions and take all your newfound wealth to the Houston Symphony Store and buy Symphomaniac merchandise for all your loved ones for Christmas.
and the number one thing to do during the Writer's Guild Strike of 2007 is:
1. Get your sorry self to the Houston Symphony this Friday, Saturday, or Sunday to see how many percussion instruments Evelyn Glennie needs to drown out a symphony orchestra!!! Oh, and the Prokoviev is pretty good, too.
Friday, November 16, 2007
A rose by any other name.....
Tonight we are playing a concert with Kenny G. I don't know whether or not you'd call "G" his stage name, or just an abbreviation. Yesterday while rehearsing our Classical weekend concert with Emanuel Ax, we were informed that "Mr. G's" plane would be late, so rehearsal today would start late as well. "Mr. G?" Is that like "Mr. T?" As in "I pity the fool that don't think I am the best damn smooth jazz golfer in the WORLD!"
Let's be honest here, people. Stage names USUALLY, though not always, substitute for a very unfortunate real name. As in G for "Gorelick." Yikes. Last summer we played with Clayton Holmes Grissom (Clay Aiken). Actually, the Houston Symphony's Who's Who of unmanageable last names is quite the tongue twister: Anthony Dominick Benedetto (Tony Bennett), Florencia Bisenta de Casillas Martinez Cardona (Vicki Carr). Declan Patrick McManus (Elvis Costello), Vito Farinola (Vic Damone), Henry John Deutschendorf, Jr. (John Denver), Christina Claire Ciminella (Wynonna Judd), Sidney Leibowitz (Steve Lawrence), Rosita Dolores Alverio (Rita Moreno), and Louis Weertz (Roger Williams)...to name a few of the ones that will 'fess up.
Then there are musicians that probably SHOULD take stage names. Check out this link to an album cover from a fairly famous jazz pianist/organist, (stop snickering, are we in Kindergarten?) Dick Hyman.
Reinhold Jockisch was a famous musician from the mid 19th century whose edited string parts are widely used today. On the other side of the coin, we have Arnold George Dorsey, who took a perfectly fine name and decided to mess up data entry workers everywhere by seeking fame as Englebert Humperdinck. Not to be confused with the COMPOSER Englebert Humperdinck, of "Hansel and Gretel" fame, who didn't change his name to Arnold Dorsey, or anything else.
Of course, this blog's descent into the banal would not be complete without the story of colleagues in university music departments that sign up fake students (in honor of one of the oldest running Simpsons gags) to take their yearly final jury exams--just for a little levity when the proctor calls out their names. Ben Dover, Mike Rochitches, and Oliver Klosoff were some of those gems. I'll stop while I'm ahead....or at least only a little behind... and leave you with a few outlets.
I need to get to Macy's anyway- I hear they're having a sale on my favorite bedsheets- from Polo by Ralph Lifchitz (Doesn't exactly conjure up images of genteel English countryside, does it?).
Let's be honest here, people. Stage names USUALLY, though not always, substitute for a very unfortunate real name. As in G for "Gorelick." Yikes. Last summer we played with Clayton Holmes Grissom (Clay Aiken). Actually, the Houston Symphony's Who's Who of unmanageable last names is quite the tongue twister: Anthony Dominick Benedetto (Tony Bennett), Florencia Bisenta de Casillas Martinez Cardona (Vicki Carr). Declan Patrick McManus (Elvis Costello), Vito Farinola (Vic Damone), Henry John Deutschendorf, Jr. (John Denver), Christina Claire Ciminella (Wynonna Judd), Sidney Leibowitz (Steve Lawrence), Rosita Dolores Alverio (Rita Moreno), and Louis Weertz (Roger Williams)...to name a few of the ones that will 'fess up.
Then there are musicians that probably SHOULD take stage names. Check out this link to an album cover from a fairly famous jazz pianist/organist, (stop snickering, are we in Kindergarten?) Dick Hyman.
Reinhold Jockisch was a famous musician from the mid 19th century whose edited string parts are widely used today. On the other side of the coin, we have Arnold George Dorsey, who took a perfectly fine name and decided to mess up data entry workers everywhere by seeking fame as Englebert Humperdinck. Not to be confused with the COMPOSER Englebert Humperdinck, of "Hansel and Gretel" fame, who didn't change his name to Arnold Dorsey, or anything else.
Of course, this blog's descent into the banal would not be complete without the story of colleagues in university music departments that sign up fake students (in honor of one of the oldest running Simpsons gags) to take their yearly final jury exams--just for a little levity when the proctor calls out their names. Ben Dover, Mike Rochitches, and Oliver Klosoff were some of those gems. I'll stop while I'm ahead....or at least only a little behind... and leave you with a few outlets.
I need to get to Macy's anyway- I hear they're having a sale on my favorite bedsheets- from Polo by Ralph Lifchitz (Doesn't exactly conjure up images of genteel English countryside, does it?).
Friday, October 19, 2007
Communism and American Music: a.k.a. I Love a Good Conspiracy Theory
This week we are performing works by two of the most quintessential American composers of all time: Samuel Barber and Aaron Copland. And BTW, that is pronounced “Cope-land,” and is NOT a movie starring Sly Stallone, Harvey Keitel, Robert DeNiro, and Ray Liotta. We’re talking serious, historical, classical music here kids, not a serious, fictional, police corruption/Mafia flick. Though Italians DO figure heavily in both Classical music and Mafia films….hmmm…I’ll leave that one to the true conspiracy theorists.
Speaking of conspiracy theories, here’s some more dish: Because of the "Red Scare" and Congressional and FBI investigations, Copland was blacklisted in the 50’s for being sympathetic to the American Communist Party. Now check this out: the Third Symphony (1946), performed this week, contains in its entirety his brass piece, “Fanfare for the Common Man.” The fanfare was composed in 1942 as a contribution to a series of wartime fanfares commissioned by Eugene Goossens (then conductor of the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra). It would later be used to open many Democratic National Conventions, as well as be played at top military funerals and State events. Copland himself said he felt free to recycle it because he never expected the original fanfare to attain such remarkable popularity as it had done. So, the Third Symphony, with its perceived symbolism-- of that of the end of World War II, a successful struggle that had been pursued with idealism and national unity, and which left the country entering a period of new prosperity and new thoughts about itself; that patriotic and heroic piece, was composed by a man who less than a decade later was blacklisted for being a communist and anti-American!! Well, maybe it was the parallels drawn by musicologists between the Third Symphony and Shostakovich’s Symphonies….. and it has been further noted that Copland shared a bit of the Russian composer's fascination with Mahler…..And really, that title: “Fanfare for the Common Man” How Marxist is that?
Now watch if you can, comrades, my deft slight-of-hand, as I weave Samuel Barber into my wacky web: Barber composed one of my favorite violin concertos that we are playing with the amazing virtuostic violinist superstar Nadja Salerno-Sonnenberg (eerie music here….she comes from Italian-Russian descent!!!!). His most famous piece is probably the “Adagio for Strings;” like the “Fanfare for the Common Man,” it is also played at many funerals and somber State events! What’s more, here is an excerpt from a letter that he sent his mother at the tender age of nine:
“Dear Mother: I have written to tell you my worrying secret. Now don’t cry when you read it because it is neither yours nor my fault. I suppose I will have to tell it now, without any nonsense. To begin with I was not meant to be an athlete. I was meant to be a composer, and will be I’m sure. I’ll ask you one more thing .—Don’t ask me to try to forget this unpleasant thing and go play football.—Please—Sometimes I’ve been worrying about this so much that it makes me mad (not very).”
NOT PLAY FOOTBALL?!?!?!?! How un-American is that? I bet he even hated apple pie. And here’s one last thing (hey, was that a sigh of relief I heard from the peanut gallery?): Because of his being blacklisted, Copland’s “A Lincoln Portrait” was withdrawn from the 1953 inaugural concert for President Eisenhower. Obviously in support of his Commie comrade, Barber often carried around Lincoln Portraits –cleverly disguised as five dollar bills- in his wallet!!!!!
See ya next time- I’ve got to go put on my aluminum foil helmet against the space aliens. They’re watching, you know.
Speaking of conspiracy theories, here’s some more dish: Because of the "Red Scare" and Congressional and FBI investigations, Copland was blacklisted in the 50’s for being sympathetic to the American Communist Party. Now check this out: the Third Symphony (1946), performed this week, contains in its entirety his brass piece, “Fanfare for the Common Man.” The fanfare was composed in 1942 as a contribution to a series of wartime fanfares commissioned by Eugene Goossens (then conductor of the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra). It would later be used to open many Democratic National Conventions, as well as be played at top military funerals and State events. Copland himself said he felt free to recycle it because he never expected the original fanfare to attain such remarkable popularity as it had done. So, the Third Symphony, with its perceived symbolism-- of that of the end of World War II, a successful struggle that had been pursued with idealism and national unity, and which left the country entering a period of new prosperity and new thoughts about itself; that patriotic and heroic piece, was composed by a man who less than a decade later was blacklisted for being a communist and anti-American!! Well, maybe it was the parallels drawn by musicologists between the Third Symphony and Shostakovich’s Symphonies….. and it has been further noted that Copland shared a bit of the Russian composer's fascination with Mahler…..And really, that title: “Fanfare for the Common Man” How Marxist is that?
Now watch if you can, comrades, my deft slight-of-hand, as I weave Samuel Barber into my wacky web: Barber composed one of my favorite violin concertos that we are playing with the amazing virtuostic violinist superstar Nadja Salerno-Sonnenberg (eerie music here….she comes from Italian-Russian descent!!!!). His most famous piece is probably the “Adagio for Strings;” like the “Fanfare for the Common Man,” it is also played at many funerals and somber State events! What’s more, here is an excerpt from a letter that he sent his mother at the tender age of nine:
“Dear Mother: I have written to tell you my worrying secret. Now don’t cry when you read it because it is neither yours nor my fault. I suppose I will have to tell it now, without any nonsense. To begin with I was not meant to be an athlete. I was meant to be a composer, and will be I’m sure. I’ll ask you one more thing .—Don’t ask me to try to forget this unpleasant thing and go play football.—Please—Sometimes I’ve been worrying about this so much that it makes me mad (not very).”
NOT PLAY FOOTBALL?!?!?!?! How un-American is that? I bet he even hated apple pie. And here’s one last thing (hey, was that a sigh of relief I heard from the peanut gallery?): Because of his being blacklisted, Copland’s “A Lincoln Portrait” was withdrawn from the 1953 inaugural concert for President Eisenhower. Obviously in support of his Commie comrade, Barber often carried around Lincoln Portraits –cleverly disguised as five dollar bills- in his wallet!!!!!
See ya next time- I’ve got to go put on my aluminum foil helmet against the space aliens. They’re watching, you know.
Saturday, September 08, 2007
Back from the wild
Hello suckers...I mean loyal Wavelength subscribers and bloggie guests. The Houston Symphony is back in season. We the musicians have as usual been escaping the heat/ gallivanting around the world since you saw us last, from the grassy plains of Iowa to the volcanic crags of Mount Kilimanjaro.
A good number of Houston Symphony musicians go for 2-3 weeks to the Grand Teton Music Festival. It's a pretty light schedule there, only 4 rehearsals and 2 concerts a week, so come afternoons you can see most of the musicians on a mountain, hopping over streams, sliding down scree, running from grizzlies...One year I remember walking down a very heavily traveled, paved trail to find a group of tourists taking pictures 3 feet away from a baby grizzly. "It's OK," one Hawaiian shirt-clad woman told my rapidly retreating back, "it would've attacked by now, if it was going to." "I don't think its mama cares much about that," I muttered back, reflecting on clueless cityfolk and theories of Darwinism in general.
This year was a VERY good wildlife encounter year for me; by which I mean plenty of viewings not involving scrambling up a tree or crouching to protect my soft tasty underbelly. My dog Stella and I managed to flush out moose (meese? mooses?), foxes, snakes, and most exciting of all, a Great Grey Owl. Fellow Houston Symphony member/violinist Marina and I were hiking up to a mountain called Oliver's Peak when I saw a huge movement to the left of the trail. It was daytime, perfectly sunny and warm, and the owl with her six foot wingspan flew across the trail, paused on a branch not 2 feet from me, assessed my dog for snack potential, (found her wanting) and flew off.
"Can you believe that?" I said excitedly to Marina.
"Believe what? I had a rock in my shoe" she answered.
"...you...you didn't see it?"
"See what?"
Apparently staring at shoes has caused Marina to miss many a sighting. She told me she's missed Rod Stewart standing right next to her in Jackson, Wyoming, because she was fixated on a pair of shoes in the Jackson Bootlegger (dubbed "Bootlicker" by festival musicians).
The Rod Stewart near-sighting was confirmed by the newspaper. It's not unusual to see celebs in Jackson. Many a violist (not naming names) has spent a rehearsal conniving how to get "rescued" by Harrison Ford in his helicopter. Actually, part of the fun of concerts in the Tetons is the "spot the celeb" game. This is usually delivered in a series of urgent whispers in between movements of pieces.
"psst! Robert Wagner, 3rd row center!!"
"You mean the guy sitting next to William Shatner?"
"That's not William Shatner, that's Jon Voight!"
"Really? Maybe....hey look! Edie Falco!! Next to Bob Hope!! Hey, isn't Bob Hope dead?"
I feel sorry for the non-celeb victims of all these unconfirmed sightings. Do they wonder why everyone on stage is staring at them? Do they check their teeth for spinach? The sudden growth of a third eye?
Even better, in my opinion, are guest artists, or conductors that look like famous personalities (though maybe not any more famous than they are in their own minds). Then what you hear, sotto voce in between movements, are things like:
"Hey, I didn't know Colonel Sanders/Bob's Big Boy/Skeletor/David Hasselhoff conducts/plays the piano/violin.."
A good number of Houston Symphony musicians go for 2-3 weeks to the Grand Teton Music Festival. It's a pretty light schedule there, only 4 rehearsals and 2 concerts a week, so come afternoons you can see most of the musicians on a mountain, hopping over streams, sliding down scree, running from grizzlies...One year I remember walking down a very heavily traveled, paved trail to find a group of tourists taking pictures 3 feet away from a baby grizzly. "It's OK," one Hawaiian shirt-clad woman told my rapidly retreating back, "it would've attacked by now, if it was going to." "I don't think its mama cares much about that," I muttered back, reflecting on clueless cityfolk and theories of Darwinism in general.
This year was a VERY good wildlife encounter year for me; by which I mean plenty of viewings not involving scrambling up a tree or crouching to protect my soft tasty underbelly. My dog Stella and I managed to flush out moose (meese? mooses?), foxes, snakes, and most exciting of all, a Great Grey Owl. Fellow Houston Symphony member/violinist Marina and I were hiking up to a mountain called Oliver's Peak when I saw a huge movement to the left of the trail. It was daytime, perfectly sunny and warm, and the owl with her six foot wingspan flew across the trail, paused on a branch not 2 feet from me, assessed my dog for snack potential, (found her wanting) and flew off.
"Can you believe that?" I said excitedly to Marina.
"Believe what? I had a rock in my shoe" she answered.
"...you...you didn't see it?"
"See what?"
Apparently staring at shoes has caused Marina to miss many a sighting. She told me she's missed Rod Stewart standing right next to her in Jackson, Wyoming, because she was fixated on a pair of shoes in the Jackson Bootlegger (dubbed "Bootlicker" by festival musicians).
The Rod Stewart near-sighting was confirmed by the newspaper. It's not unusual to see celebs in Jackson. Many a violist (not naming names) has spent a rehearsal conniving how to get "rescued" by Harrison Ford in his helicopter. Actually, part of the fun of concerts in the Tetons is the "spot the celeb" game. This is usually delivered in a series of urgent whispers in between movements of pieces.
"psst! Robert Wagner, 3rd row center!!"
"You mean the guy sitting next to William Shatner?"
"That's not William Shatner, that's Jon Voight!"
"Really? Maybe....hey look! Edie Falco!! Next to Bob Hope!! Hey, isn't Bob Hope dead?"
I feel sorry for the non-celeb victims of all these unconfirmed sightings. Do they wonder why everyone on stage is staring at them? Do they check their teeth for spinach? The sudden growth of a third eye?
Even better, in my opinion, are guest artists, or conductors that look like famous personalities (though maybe not any more famous than they are in their own minds). Then what you hear, sotto voce in between movements, are things like:
"Hey, I didn't know Colonel Sanders/Bob's Big Boy/Skeletor/David Hasselhoff conducts/plays the piano/violin.."
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
You know you're not in Houston when...
Greetings from the Big Apple!
It's the time of year for my yearly three week stint at New York University, where I teach and play at a String Quartet seminar. This year, a whole gaggle of Wavelength members/readers/blog contributors have come to see what all the fuss is about. Tonight, as they are attending a New York Philharmonic concert (oh right, that OTHER orchestra), I am putting together their thoughts about the city into electrons for all of you NOT here with us to enjoy.
You know you're not in Houston when...
10. "WALK" means walk, and "DON'T WALK" means haul ass.
9. The weather actually follows the meteorologists' predictions from hour to hour.
8. Aloha! You give your change to a homeless person's Hawaii fund.
7. The public transportation is efficient and you can't make an illegal left turn into it.
6. You plan your outfit according to how many blocks you have to walk.
5. The roaches have roaches.
4. Jaywalking is not a crime, its a way of life.
3. Enchiladas, bad; bagels, good.
2. You can buy a knock-off copy of the fabulous purse that the transvestite hobo is carrying from the street vendor down the block.
1. You call someone a "Symphomaniac" and they deck you.
Hope to see y'all/youse guys next week in Houston at Jones Hall for the Led Zeppelin or Disney concert!
It's the time of year for my yearly three week stint at New York University, where I teach and play at a String Quartet seminar. This year, a whole gaggle of Wavelength members/readers/blog contributors have come to see what all the fuss is about. Tonight, as they are attending a New York Philharmonic concert (oh right, that OTHER orchestra), I am putting together their thoughts about the city into electrons for all of you NOT here with us to enjoy.
You know you're not in Houston when...
10. "WALK" means walk, and "DON'T WALK" means haul ass.
9. The weather actually follows the meteorologists' predictions from hour to hour.
8. Aloha! You give your change to a homeless person's Hawaii fund.
7. The public transportation is efficient and you can't make an illegal left turn into it.
6. You plan your outfit according to how many blocks you have to walk.
5. The roaches have roaches.
4. Jaywalking is not a crime, its a way of life.
3. Enchiladas, bad; bagels, good.
2. You can buy a knock-off copy of the fabulous purse that the transvestite hobo is carrying from the street vendor down the block.
1. You call someone a "Symphomaniac" and they deck you.
Hope to see y'all/youse guys next week in Houston at Jones Hall for the Led Zeppelin or Disney concert!
Saturday, June 02, 2007
Idol, Part 3: Ima Hogg Competition
Well kids, it's a few hours before the finals of the Houston Symphony Ima Hogg competition. This is the second year we have done it "American-Idol" style, holding the finals in public and letting the audience participate in the voting. Also for the second year, the finalists (four of them) are accompanied by the Houston Symphony during the final round. This was a big hit last year and seems like it will be even bigger this year.
The prizes are not as monetarily big as AI, but are prestigious enough in our small classical world: the first prize winner is given a concert with the Houston Symphony in Jones Hall and a small cash award of $5000. The second prize is given $2,500 and a summer outdoor performance with the Houston Symphony. The third prize is $1,000, no concert, ditto the fourth prize, with a check for $500.
Really, having made it to the finals is a win in itself. Especially now that all finalists get to play the "Finalist" concert with the orchestra, and a good conductor, in an acoustically very nice hall like Rice's Stude Hall. Way better than the underwater muffled sounds of Jones Hall, and way, way better than playing an amplified concert outside at Miller Theatre in the dead heat of a Houston summer.
I can't give my picks out for the winners- I don't want to jinx it. Suffice to say that last year, the orchestra favorite did not win first. We think it was because her piece was not as technically demanding as the person that won first. Which really opens up a can of worms: do you give more points to someone who plays an "easy" piece with great beauty and artistry, or someone who plays a "hard" piece, maybe not as perfectly or beautifully, but give them points for having the cojones to do it in the first place?
This is the big problem with all competitions, any competition. It happens in the Olympics, on American Idol, on Dancing With the Stars.
This year the repertoire played by the four finalists are not as disparate in terms of technicality, it should be interesting to see what happens. I think the big question will be one of instrument popularity. Tune in on KUHF to the live radio broadcast and vote for your favorite on the KUHF website or the HS website!
The prizes are not as monetarily big as AI, but are prestigious enough in our small classical world: the first prize winner is given a concert with the Houston Symphony in Jones Hall and a small cash award of $5000. The second prize is given $2,500 and a summer outdoor performance with the Houston Symphony. The third prize is $1,000, no concert, ditto the fourth prize, with a check for $500.
Really, having made it to the finals is a win in itself. Especially now that all finalists get to play the "Finalist" concert with the orchestra, and a good conductor, in an acoustically very nice hall like Rice's Stude Hall. Way better than the underwater muffled sounds of Jones Hall, and way, way better than playing an amplified concert outside at Miller Theatre in the dead heat of a Houston summer.
I can't give my picks out for the winners- I don't want to jinx it. Suffice to say that last year, the orchestra favorite did not win first. We think it was because her piece was not as technically demanding as the person that won first. Which really opens up a can of worms: do you give more points to someone who plays an "easy" piece with great beauty and artistry, or someone who plays a "hard" piece, maybe not as perfectly or beautifully, but give them points for having the cojones to do it in the first place?
This is the big problem with all competitions, any competition. It happens in the Olympics, on American Idol, on Dancing With the Stars.
This year the repertoire played by the four finalists are not as disparate in terms of technicality, it should be interesting to see what happens. I think the big question will be one of instrument popularity. Tune in on KUHF to the live radio broadcast and vote for your favorite on the KUHF website or the HS website!
Friday, May 04, 2007
Legends
The classical music world lost a beloved figure on April 27 with the death of Russian cellist and conductor Mstislav Rostropovich.
Many of us string player types grew up listening to his many recordings. For me, it was his Tchaikovsky "Variations on a Roccoco Theme." Later on, I not only had the pleasure of playing in an orchestra where he was the soloist, but working with him as a conductor (he was the conductor, I was the violist).
In 1990, I was the only American representing Germany in the "Deutsches-Sowietisches Jungendorchester (German-Soviet Youth Orchestra)," in a residency in Portugal collaborating with the Kirov Ballet. Slava was the conductor and part-producer of this production of Prokoviev's Romeo and Juliet. The shows took place in an ancient Roman amphitheater just over the Spanish border in Badajoz. The orchestra was seated on stage behind the action. Because of that (or because of some sadistic/manic Russian costumer), we had to wear these really hot and heavy monk's robes. Another crazy thing about the production was that the dress rehearsals had to take place at 2:30 a.m. "Because of the heat..the dancers...your robes..." was the reason we were given. It seemed strange at the time, but not necessarily much stranger than many things seem when you are in your early 20's. I remember on the day (night?) before the dress rehearsal we were advised to go to bed early so we could be rested in time to get up and meet the bus at 1 a.m. Apparently no one told Slava this, because he started wandering around at 9 PM looking for musicians to have a rehearsal with. Or go drinking with, I can't remember..it's all a vodka soaked blur at this point.
There were a few things that stick in my mind about the first performance. The last note of the piece is one chord that is held for a few minutes. Us monks were astonished though when our beloved Slava stopped conducting right at the beginning of the note, walked downstage to the inert bodies of Romeo and Juliet (who had died within inches of each other, arms outstretched towards each other but not touching), grabbed their hands and clasped them together on his knee, his head bowed over it, to tumultuous applause. This way, way, over-the-top melodramatic moment was diminished a few moments later when a section of the super-duper VIP (read: countesses and such) seating collapsed into the ancient subterranean Roman gladiator waiting rooms over which it had been shoddily constructed. For a moment the Maestro was confused, thinking the screams were ones of approval and adoration, but sadly, they were screams of panic and trampling.
Luckily, no one was seriously hurt and the production continued its run to huge, un-collapsing crowds and greater adulations.
Many of us string player types grew up listening to his many recordings. For me, it was his Tchaikovsky "Variations on a Roccoco Theme." Later on, I not only had the pleasure of playing in an orchestra where he was the soloist, but working with him as a conductor (he was the conductor, I was the violist).
In 1990, I was the only American representing Germany in the "Deutsches-Sowietisches Jungendorchester (German-Soviet Youth Orchestra)," in a residency in Portugal collaborating with the Kirov Ballet. Slava was the conductor and part-producer of this production of Prokoviev's Romeo and Juliet. The shows took place in an ancient Roman amphitheater just over the Spanish border in Badajoz. The orchestra was seated on stage behind the action. Because of that (or because of some sadistic/manic Russian costumer), we had to wear these really hot and heavy monk's robes. Another crazy thing about the production was that the dress rehearsals had to take place at 2:30 a.m. "Because of the heat..the dancers...your robes..." was the reason we were given. It seemed strange at the time, but not necessarily much stranger than many things seem when you are in your early 20's. I remember on the day (night?) before the dress rehearsal we were advised to go to bed early so we could be rested in time to get up and meet the bus at 1 a.m. Apparently no one told Slava this, because he started wandering around at 9 PM looking for musicians to have a rehearsal with. Or go drinking with, I can't remember..it's all a vodka soaked blur at this point.
There were a few things that stick in my mind about the first performance. The last note of the piece is one chord that is held for a few minutes. Us monks were astonished though when our beloved Slava stopped conducting right at the beginning of the note, walked downstage to the inert bodies of Romeo and Juliet (who had died within inches of each other, arms outstretched towards each other but not touching), grabbed their hands and clasped them together on his knee, his head bowed over it, to tumultuous applause. This way, way, over-the-top melodramatic moment was diminished a few moments later when a section of the super-duper VIP (read: countesses and such) seating collapsed into the ancient subterranean Roman gladiator waiting rooms over which it had been shoddily constructed. For a moment the Maestro was confused, thinking the screams were ones of approval and adoration, but sadly, they were screams of panic and trampling.
Luckily, no one was seriously hurt and the production continued its run to huge, un-collapsing crowds and greater adulations.
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Toot our own Glayvin!!
At the end of a concert, unless things have gone horribly, horribly wrong, there are usually three curtain calls. The first (technically a bow and not a curtain call), happens at the conclusion of the last note of the evening. Ideally, as the reverberations die away, there is an expectant silence because you, the audience are so entranced by the mood that we, the performers, have created, that it takes a while for you to come back to the real world. Inevitably though, there is someone that is either so bursting with enthusiasm, or has ants in the pants /“Jimmy legs,” or just wants a solo of his own (I say “his” not in the standard sense of saying “his” for “anyone’s”, but because it really always is a man)..and breaks the silence early by screaming “BRAVO!!”
The conductor, flinging the sweat from his brow, wearily but with an air of immense satisfaction, will turn to the audience to acknowledge his rightful due, and then motions for the entire orchestra to stand.
That is the first.
The second occurs after the conductor has walked off stage and then on stage again. This is usually where sections or individual players are given special recognition. The first horn, the first flute, trombone, concertmaster…all people who individually contributed solos in some form or another that were an integral part of the performance.
The third can happen in a variety of ways. Sometimes, the conductor comes out, and motions the whole orchestra to stand again. This is a very delicate point, because it is at this moment that what most conductors REALLY expect is the orchestra to do is stay seated and motion to him; in effect saying “no, really, it’s all due to your genius that you we sounded good...please, take a solo bow…you deserve it.” And sometimes we DO mean that very sentence, and sometimes we don’t. Not the least bit. But in any case, after the fake-polite “no, you’re great” “no, STOP, it’s YOU that are great” back-and-forth, the conductor usually does get sections of the orchestra to stand again.
This time around, it is often the wind or brass sections that elicit hoots and hollers from the audience. By the time the string section stands up (last), there are no more special hoots, bravos, yays, or anything. And therein lies the problem.
You see, we are usually the only section that has been playing THE WHOLE TIME. We have more notes. WE are the bulk of the orchestra. We may not have had that beautiful mournful death tune in the second movement, or the brave hero hunting theme in the last, but we have sat there during the last two and a half hours gamely sawing away while our non string colleagues counted rests and waited for their scant moments of glory. And when we don’t hear a rise in the cheering when we-- the guts, the heart, of the orchestra stands—well, it just plain hurts.
Some string players in other orchestras actually shout “BRAVO” as they stand up, just to give the audience a little hint. We in the viola section tried that for a week, then realized that really, it’s all about the noise you make, so now in the words of Professor Frink on the Simpsons, we stand, smile, and shout “GLAYVIN!!”
The conductor, flinging the sweat from his brow, wearily but with an air of immense satisfaction, will turn to the audience to acknowledge his rightful due, and then motions for the entire orchestra to stand.
That is the first.
The second occurs after the conductor has walked off stage and then on stage again. This is usually where sections or individual players are given special recognition. The first horn, the first flute, trombone, concertmaster…all people who individually contributed solos in some form or another that were an integral part of the performance.
The third can happen in a variety of ways. Sometimes, the conductor comes out, and motions the whole orchestra to stand again. This is a very delicate point, because it is at this moment that what most conductors REALLY expect is the orchestra to do is stay seated and motion to him; in effect saying “no, really, it’s all due to your genius that you we sounded good...please, take a solo bow…you deserve it.” And sometimes we DO mean that very sentence, and sometimes we don’t. Not the least bit. But in any case, after the fake-polite “no, you’re great” “no, STOP, it’s YOU that are great” back-and-forth, the conductor usually does get sections of the orchestra to stand again.
This time around, it is often the wind or brass sections that elicit hoots and hollers from the audience. By the time the string section stands up (last), there are no more special hoots, bravos, yays, or anything. And therein lies the problem.
You see, we are usually the only section that has been playing THE WHOLE TIME. We have more notes. WE are the bulk of the orchestra. We may not have had that beautiful mournful death tune in the second movement, or the brave hero hunting theme in the last, but we have sat there during the last two and a half hours gamely sawing away while our non string colleagues counted rests and waited for their scant moments of glory. And when we don’t hear a rise in the cheering when we-- the guts, the heart, of the orchestra stands—well, it just plain hurts.
Some string players in other orchestras actually shout “BRAVO” as they stand up, just to give the audience a little hint. We in the viola section tried that for a week, then realized that really, it’s all about the noise you make, so now in the words of Professor Frink on the Simpsons, we stand, smile, and shout “GLAYVIN!!”
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Idol, Part 2: Kiju, the Violin Playing Girl
As promised, think American Idol, only nerdier, and with a happy ending......here is her take on her audition to win the job at the Houston Symphony...written by our newest violinist, Kiju Joh, who comes to us from Chicago.
Check out the comments from the last blog- we may have (though you never know on line, do you) attracted commentary from the subject of the last blog, one of the hosts of "America's Hot Musician." You be the judge!!
Also, speaking of my cat being able to play the piano, here is a great video of Nora, the Piano Playing Cat.
From Kiju:
I must start off by admitting that I never thought I would actually get this job, much less any job! Even though I had gained a sense of routine and familiarity of the audition process through taking many auditions, the audition experience still never got easier.
Generally in auditions, I have to deal with the stress that I bring upon myself, which in itself is enough. It could be triggered by a simple case of nerves or anxiety over the audition repertoire. i.e. “I hope they don’t ask for that excerpt” or “I hope that I nail that really fast and high run in Don Juan!” If on top of that, an audition is poorly run, it only adds to the stress level. It makes it more difficult to focus on the task at hand, which is simply just to perform my very best.
(The basic rundown of the audition is this: you see the ad for the position in a trade paper. you write away for the list of music (excerpts) the orchestra wants to hear, and then the next month or so of your life, and those living with you, is a living hell. When you arrive at the audition, there are usually 3 rounds that eliminate people as they go higher. During the first round, you may play as little as 3 minutes before being permanently dismissed, which can be very disappointing after spending all that time and money on airfare and hotel!! By the time/if you get to the final round, the committee (comprised of 7 musicians and the conductor) is asking for more music and may have you play with other members of the orchestra, or sightread some unfamiliar music. My feeling has always been that by the time you get to the finals, it is just a question of if your style fits the orchestra for which you are auditioning.--Rita)
In Houston, the staff running the audition was very helpful and friendly, which automatically put me at ease. I really appreciated the amount of time that I had in my own private warm-up room (or in some cases, practice room!), which was an extremely generous amount of 25-30 minutes as opposed to the 5-10 minutes which I was given in other auditions. This allowed me ample time to decompress and refocus in a less hectic setting. On top of that, everything was running pretty much on schedule, which meant that I didn’t have to wait a long time and get tired or cold before stepping on stage to play. These small details, in total, made a huge difference.
I spoke to some of the staff running the audition afterwards, and they informed me that they also had been through the grind of taking many auditions. Having their own audition experiences allowed them to offer us the comforts, considerations and conveniences that they would have hoped for or expected themselves.
Besides the actual audition experience itself, I was especially impressed with events that happened afterwards. After finding out that I was offered the position, I was immediately introduced to some of the audition committee, the general manager, and even the music director. It was very late at night, and I was aware that they had to sit through almost six hours of auditions in addition to having attended two long rehearsals earlier that day. Despite a very long and arduous day, they still stuck around and took the time to welcome and congratulate me.
Everyone in the symphony whom I have met so far has been so friendly and warm. I was taken out on very nice welcome lunches, invited to attend a symphony concert, and I’ve even been offered help in finding places to live when I move down in the spring. Rita has especially been one of my biggest supporters of getting this position. I was so happy that she was there to share this exciting experience with me! I am very much looking forward to becoming a part of this amazing group!
Check out the comments from the last blog- we may have (though you never know on line, do you) attracted commentary from the subject of the last blog, one of the hosts of "America's Hot Musician." You be the judge!!
Also, speaking of my cat being able to play the piano, here is a great video of Nora, the Piano Playing Cat.
From Kiju:
I must start off by admitting that I never thought I would actually get this job, much less any job! Even though I had gained a sense of routine and familiarity of the audition process through taking many auditions, the audition experience still never got easier.
Generally in auditions, I have to deal with the stress that I bring upon myself, which in itself is enough. It could be triggered by a simple case of nerves or anxiety over the audition repertoire. i.e. “I hope they don’t ask for that excerpt” or “I hope that I nail that really fast and high run in Don Juan!” If on top of that, an audition is poorly run, it only adds to the stress level. It makes it more difficult to focus on the task at hand, which is simply just to perform my very best.
(The basic rundown of the audition is this: you see the ad for the position in a trade paper. you write away for the list of music (excerpts) the orchestra wants to hear, and then the next month or so of your life, and those living with you, is a living hell. When you arrive at the audition, there are usually 3 rounds that eliminate people as they go higher. During the first round, you may play as little as 3 minutes before being permanently dismissed, which can be very disappointing after spending all that time and money on airfare and hotel!! By the time/if you get to the final round, the committee (comprised of 7 musicians and the conductor) is asking for more music and may have you play with other members of the orchestra, or sightread some unfamiliar music. My feeling has always been that by the time you get to the finals, it is just a question of if your style fits the orchestra for which you are auditioning.--Rita)
In Houston, the staff running the audition was very helpful and friendly, which automatically put me at ease. I really appreciated the amount of time that I had in my own private warm-up room (or in some cases, practice room!), which was an extremely generous amount of 25-30 minutes as opposed to the 5-10 minutes which I was given in other auditions. This allowed me ample time to decompress and refocus in a less hectic setting. On top of that, everything was running pretty much on schedule, which meant that I didn’t have to wait a long time and get tired or cold before stepping on stage to play. These small details, in total, made a huge difference.
I spoke to some of the staff running the audition afterwards, and they informed me that they also had been through the grind of taking many auditions. Having their own audition experiences allowed them to offer us the comforts, considerations and conveniences that they would have hoped for or expected themselves.
Besides the actual audition experience itself, I was especially impressed with events that happened afterwards. After finding out that I was offered the position, I was immediately introduced to some of the audition committee, the general manager, and even the music director. It was very late at night, and I was aware that they had to sit through almost six hours of auditions in addition to having attended two long rehearsals earlier that day. Despite a very long and arduous day, they still stuck around and took the time to welcome and congratulate me.
Everyone in the symphony whom I have met so far has been so friendly and warm. I was taken out on very nice welcome lunches, invited to attend a symphony concert, and I’ve even been offered help in finding places to live when I move down in the spring. Rita has especially been one of my biggest supporters of getting this position. I was so happy that she was there to share this exciting experience with me! I am very much looking forward to becoming a part of this amazing group!
Friday, March 02, 2007
Idol, part 1
Are you an American Idol junkie? I have days when I can watch it and days when I can't. Sometimes it is just a little TOO painful. Like the prelims, when the show's producers decide that bad talent makes for good TV. Especially painful this season were those two guys from Seattle. (Speaking of painful, what happened to that Hung guy? ) Is it just plain old human nature rearing its ugly head when the most popular entertainment is showcasing the misfortunate/pathetically untalented/embarassing/misfits of society? Ah, for the good old days of gladiators and court jesters. Eh? Lion's den anyone?
I just found out about a new "Idol"-like show that started on Youtube but is now going to be aired on Comcast channels like O!xygen across the country. It is called "America's Hot Musician." Like American Idol, but for instrumentalists. I heard that a colleaugue from the National Symphony in D.C. has just signed on as the third judge. Thank God for that-after viewing just the first episode (with mounting horror) on Youtube, I came to at least two conclusions: 1) with only two judges, the voting process is severely flawed; and 2)sounding like Randy Jackson does not make you a Randy Jackson. The producer/judge/Randy Jackson counterpart, Gregory Charles Royal on the show SEEMS to have decent credentials but lost all credibility with me when he passed on to the next round a tone-deaf guitarist with the words "you just need to be relaxed, I want you to come back." My cat could tune the guitar better than that guy. And the first season Judge no.2, a mid-west high school music teacher(!?!?!?!), former Miss Minnesota Kari Heisler, is certainly no Paula Abdul, though at least she voted no on the tone deaf guy (it only takes one vote to get passed to the next round-see above conclusions). But it doesn't matter, because if you come on time, are breathing and can sit upright for at least 30 seconds on this show, you get passed on by Charles "I got my limits, I got my limits" Royal who must be desperate, really, really really really desperate for material.
Simon Cowell, where are you?
The winners get a recording contract- which in this day of Garage Band and cheap digital home studios, doesn't seem like such a prize. But hey, everyone's gotta have their Warhol 15 minutes, and given the wealth of reality programming, I mean EVERYONE.
Tune in next week for a segment of real competition in the Classical music world, where the prize is a job in a major symphony orchestra. No- not some kind of nerdy "Apprentice," but a real account of the audition to win the latest violin opening at the Houston Symphony, written by the winner.
I just found out about a new "Idol"-like show that started on Youtube but is now going to be aired on Comcast channels like O!xygen across the country. It is called "America's Hot Musician." Like American Idol, but for instrumentalists. I heard that a colleaugue from the National Symphony in D.C. has just signed on as the third judge. Thank God for that-after viewing just the first episode (with mounting horror) on Youtube, I came to at least two conclusions: 1) with only two judges, the voting process is severely flawed; and 2)sounding like Randy Jackson does not make you a Randy Jackson. The producer/judge/Randy Jackson counterpart, Gregory Charles Royal on the show SEEMS to have decent credentials but lost all credibility with me when he passed on to the next round a tone-deaf guitarist with the words "you just need to be relaxed, I want you to come back." My cat could tune the guitar better than that guy. And the first season Judge no.2, a mid-west high school music teacher(!?!?!?!), former Miss Minnesota Kari Heisler, is certainly no Paula Abdul, though at least she voted no on the tone deaf guy (it only takes one vote to get passed to the next round-see above conclusions). But it doesn't matter, because if you come on time, are breathing and can sit upright for at least 30 seconds on this show, you get passed on by Charles "I got my limits, I got my limits" Royal who must be desperate, really, really really really desperate for material.
Simon Cowell, where are you?
The winners get a recording contract- which in this day of Garage Band and cheap digital home studios, doesn't seem like such a prize. But hey, everyone's gotta have their Warhol 15 minutes, and given the wealth of reality programming, I mean EVERYONE.
Tune in next week for a segment of real competition in the Classical music world, where the prize is a job in a major symphony orchestra. No- not some kind of nerdy "Apprentice," but a real account of the audition to win the latest violin opening at the Houston Symphony, written by the winner.
Friday, January 26, 2007
The story is...
Ever notice when you go to the movies, theater, opera, or even symphony, that certain themes get repeated? For example: boy meets girl, boy gets girl, girl decides she wants nothing to do with boy and becomes a pro wrestler... Someone said (besides me) that there really are only four stories that get told , with variations, over and over.
I'm a believer in this theory, which also works for most chord progressions. Especially in pop music. Basically you only need to know three chords on the guitar to play 75% of what's out there. The challenge for the performer/interpreter is to make the variations interesting, and for the listener to figure out which songs have exactly the same chords so you can segue from one song to another and back. It's a fun game!! We do it all the time in rehearsal. It's bad if you're one of those people that get tunes stuck in your head for days though, like me. After the last Bruckner concert, I had "Try to Remember" from "The Fantasticks" running around in my head for a week. Crap, it's there now.
Here's a great story by Mandy, a wavelength blog reader and a new student of mine!! It goes with the Concerto for Viola by JC Bach/Casadesus
Her first assigment with me actually was to write a story of what she thought the first movement said to her, and then to try and communicate that on her viola. I found the story totally genius!!
I'm a believer in this theory, which also works for most chord progressions. Especially in pop music. Basically you only need to know three chords on the guitar to play 75% of what's out there. The challenge for the performer/interpreter is to make the variations interesting, and for the listener to figure out which songs have exactly the same chords so you can segue from one song to another and back. It's a fun game!! We do it all the time in rehearsal. It's bad if you're one of those people that get tunes stuck in your head for days though, like me. After the last Bruckner concert, I had "Try to Remember" from "The Fantasticks" running around in my head for a week. Crap, it's there now.
Here's a great story by Mandy, a wavelength blog reader and a new student of mine!! It goes with the Concerto for Viola by JC Bach/Casadesus
Her first assigment with me actually was to write a story of what she thought the first movement said to her, and then to try and communicate that on her viola. I found the story totally genius!!
Once upon a time, a woman loved a man. John, the typical hero, stood tall with muscles bulging from his shirt and a girl always on his side. There was one girl who followed him more than most girls, and her beauty outshone her weird-stalkerish personality. The beautiful girl, Cassidy, also had numerous men on her side, but like most girls, Cassidy enjoyed the chase and went for the only boy in town who didn’t like her: John.
Their conversations took place as follows: “Oh, I am the man and I can do it all!”
“I love you! I love you! Oh, I love you!”
“I don’t care because you are a stalker!”
“I love you! I love you! Oh, I love you! I just want to know one thing!”
“Let me hear it. Just let me hear it!”
“Why don’t you love me?”
“You’re a weird stalkerish freak”
“But I am beautiful and would do anything for you for the rest of time!”
“I don’t know, don’t know, don’t know, don’t know.
“ I love you, I love you!!! I just love you, I love you!”
“I will marry you with one condition: that you don’t stalk me anymore!”
“Ok, I can do that! It won’t be too hard! I’m John’s wife!”
They were soon married, but their egocentric personalities clashed which caused discord and atonal melodic lines.
One day, Cassidy, while on her weekly grocery run, had a terrible daydream when returning from the store. She dreamed of John and having kids but then strife! John was cheating on her with her sister! She ran back to the house, yelled, screamed and hit John with all her might, but he assured that he, in fact, did not love her sister but loved her more than anything, even his muscles. Cassidy kept her promise and did not stalk John anymore. Her sister was ugly anyway. They had ten kids and grew old together. By the time they were eighty, they often reminisced about their younger years, but because they were old and forgot, they often argued about what actually took place. Their one final argument ended both of their lives, but their love still lives on (in crazy young lovers).
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
The little match orchestra
Preface: I'm no Scrooge during the holidays. My house is promptly decked with boughs of holly, blinky fiber optic lights, and tons of friggin' cheer immediately in the days after Thanksgiving. But being in the "biz" does expose one to an inordinate amount of repetition as we kick off the holidays for thousands of you out there. So we may play jazz instead of Jingle Bells on our stereos, and have a fondness for hot buttered rum. But hey- Happy Friggin' Holidays, and all the best in the New Year!!
Grinchy Holiday Musings:
Shopping in a store playing holiday music: Has anyone done a study of professional musicians' spending habits during the holidays? I bet catalog/internet sales are disproportionally WAY WAY up compared to other employees in other fields, with the possible exception of retail employees. Ah, the bliss of shopping in merciful holiday jingle-free silence with only the accompaniment of your fingers click,click, clicking away.
Dining in a restaurant playing holiday music: One time a bunch of us went out to eat at the end of a weekend of 6 Christmas Pops concerts. Not surprisingly, the soundtrack playing at the restaurant contained about 90% of the program we had done. Luckily, the manager was sympathetic to our request to change the music to something else. "What," he asked, "you girls in retail?"
Conductors with big heads and no arms: No, this is not some snide figurative conductor joke. I HAVE been conducted many a time by Santa (big head and belly) and Frosty the Snowman (big head, no arms). Frosty's the stuff of nightmares...those soulless licorice eyes staring at you...and as to the beat, are you supposed to follow the claw-like tree branch arm, or the carrot nose? And all that wet, wet snow being flung everywhere, landing on your instrument, eating away the varnish... Actually, I have a fond memory of the last time we were conducted by Frosty because the very next person to conduct us was Former President, Nobel Peace Prize winner Jimmy Carter. And he's not scary at all. Smiley and full of peanutty goodness.
The little match orchestra: Remember that really sad story of The Little Match Girl? If only the Houston Symphony had matches to burn on stage last Thursday when we were playing outside at the Woodlands Pavilion as the cold front was coming in. We had heaters blowing through duct pipes at our feet, but remember in science class? Hot air rises, cold air sinks? With cold air coming onto the stage from a huge open space- the outdoors- and hot air being blown onto the stage at floor level, a circular air/wind motion was created, in effect warm and cold fronts. The hot air circulating upward and forcing the cold air to circulate downward made for extreme weather conditions on stage. Instruments were cracking, cold, stiff muscles were cramping, and viruses were taking hold. To make matters worse, the backdrop was of giant snowflakes. For this Little Match Orchestra, perhaps chestnuts roasting on an open fire would have been a warmer choice.
Grinchy Holiday Musings:
Shopping in a store playing holiday music: Has anyone done a study of professional musicians' spending habits during the holidays? I bet catalog/internet sales are disproportionally WAY WAY up compared to other employees in other fields, with the possible exception of retail employees. Ah, the bliss of shopping in merciful holiday jingle-free silence with only the accompaniment of your fingers click,click, clicking away.
Dining in a restaurant playing holiday music: One time a bunch of us went out to eat at the end of a weekend of 6 Christmas Pops concerts. Not surprisingly, the soundtrack playing at the restaurant contained about 90% of the program we had done. Luckily, the manager was sympathetic to our request to change the music to something else. "What," he asked, "you girls in retail?"
Conductors with big heads and no arms: No, this is not some snide figurative conductor joke. I HAVE been conducted many a time by Santa (big head and belly) and Frosty the Snowman (big head, no arms). Frosty's the stuff of nightmares...those soulless licorice eyes staring at you...and as to the beat, are you supposed to follow the claw-like tree branch arm, or the carrot nose? And all that wet, wet snow being flung everywhere, landing on your instrument, eating away the varnish... Actually, I have a fond memory of the last time we were conducted by Frosty because the very next person to conduct us was Former President, Nobel Peace Prize winner Jimmy Carter. And he's not scary at all. Smiley and full of peanutty goodness.
The little match orchestra: Remember that really sad story of The Little Match Girl? If only the Houston Symphony had matches to burn on stage last Thursday when we were playing outside at the Woodlands Pavilion as the cold front was coming in. We had heaters blowing through duct pipes at our feet, but remember in science class? Hot air rises, cold air sinks? With cold air coming onto the stage from a huge open space- the outdoors- and hot air being blown onto the stage at floor level, a circular air/wind motion was created, in effect warm and cold fronts. The hot air circulating upward and forcing the cold air to circulate downward made for extreme weather conditions on stage. Instruments were cracking, cold, stiff muscles were cramping, and viruses were taking hold. To make matters worse, the backdrop was of giant snowflakes. For this Little Match Orchestra, perhaps chestnuts roasting on an open fire would have been a warmer choice.
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
Pass the yams
Since this is the week of Thanksgiving and the start of all the traditional holiday festivities, I thought I'd demystify some of the common traditions that exist in a symphony orchestra; and more specifically, the string section.
Besides being divided into first violins, second violins, violas, cellos, and basses, we are also divided between INSIDE and OUTSIDE. This means we sometimes have to play different "divisi" parts in the music. In addition, the "inside" players are the ones that usually have to turn the pages while the "outside" players are still playing. The inside players also traditionally write things in the parts at the request of the conductor or section leader (doodling in the part, while frowned upon by the Orchestra Librarian, is done by either player as well as hopefully erased by either player). Said requests (i.e. "slower" "faster" "softer" "louder" etc) are written either in Italian (most common), English, German or French, depending on the composer of the piece, or the spoken language of the orchestra. There are also certain non verbal markings, untaught in music school, that have become traditional over time. These range from arrows pointing forward or backward for "speed up" or "slow down", eyeglasses for "look up at the conductor, you @#&*!!," slashes for figuring out rhythms, and my favorite, the all-purpose squiggle, which can usually mean either "slow down" or "look up." Other common doodles I've seen in music over the years are usually conductor-related and violent, involving guns, knives, skull-and-crossbones, and dead smiley faces/hangmen.
Other interesting string player traditions you may see in a concert: the old switcheroo, the quick change/sneak off, the bow tapping, and the spin. The "old switcheroo" occurs when either the concertmaster (or any other principal string player) or the violin soloist has broken something, most commonly a string. If it is a string broken by the concertmaster, he/she will switch his/her violin with his/her stand partner's violin (the guy on the "inside"). Then, depending on what kind of a piece is being played and how close to the end of the concert it is, the stand partner can either elect to heroically play the fiddle with 3 strings, or pass it back to the rear of the section. In the rear of the section usually sits the musician that carries the spare strings for such an emergency. This musician/pit crew guy will pass his/her instrument up to the 2nd chair player, and then quickly replace the string. The switcheroo gets even more complicated when it is the soloist, for then the change is with the Concertmaster/principal string player, setting the whole above routine in motion but adding an extra player to the mix. Also, the pit crew guy in the back doing the change then has the added anxiety of having to change Mr. Bigshot Soloist's Million Dollar Stradivarius, quickly and without scratching or dropping it, knowing the soloist desperately wants nothing more than their own instrument back as soon as possible, basically having the FATE OF THE ENTIRE CONCERT IN HIS HANDS....
The "quick change/sneak off" is what happens when the pit crew guy forgets to/doesn't bring extra strings on stage and so then has to sneak off unobtrusively with 3000 people watching to make the change backstage.
"Bow tapping" is how we applaud soloists or anyone needing validation but can't use our hands because they are full of instruments. It looks weird at first and makes absolutely no noise, since we are just waving our bows in the air.
The "spin" happens usually in the lower strings (cellos/basses) but also in the violas but hardly ever in the violins. In the cellos/basses, it involves twirling the instrument at the endpin while holding it lightly at the neck. In the violins/violas, its slightly more difficult and scary because we don't have that endpin and so must form a closed circuit with the thumb and 1st or 2nd finger of our left hand and then use another finger and a wrist flick for the impetus to twirl it mid air and not drop it. This could explain why most high-strung (ha-ha-- get it? High -STRUNG… their strings are higher so...ah, forget it) violinists WON'T do it and laid back, thrill-seeking violists, will. WHEN do we do it? Well, you just know in your bones when the right moment comes along and a little spin is needed for emphasis. One spot where it always happens traditionally, throughout the world, is rehearsal letter J in Leroy Anderson's "Sleigh Ride."
Any questions about other mystifying traditions you see on stage? Let me know- and have a Happy Thanksgiving!
Besides being divided into first violins, second violins, violas, cellos, and basses, we are also divided between INSIDE and OUTSIDE. This means we sometimes have to play different "divisi" parts in the music. In addition, the "inside" players are the ones that usually have to turn the pages while the "outside" players are still playing. The inside players also traditionally write things in the parts at the request of the conductor or section leader (doodling in the part, while frowned upon by the Orchestra Librarian, is done by either player as well as hopefully erased by either player). Said requests (i.e. "slower" "faster" "softer" "louder" etc) are written either in Italian (most common), English, German or French, depending on the composer of the piece, or the spoken language of the orchestra. There are also certain non verbal markings, untaught in music school, that have become traditional over time. These range from arrows pointing forward or backward for "speed up" or "slow down", eyeglasses for "look up at the conductor, you @#&*!!," slashes for figuring out rhythms, and my favorite, the all-purpose squiggle, which can usually mean either "slow down" or "look up." Other common doodles I've seen in music over the years are usually conductor-related and violent, involving guns, knives, skull-and-crossbones, and dead smiley faces/hangmen.
Other interesting string player traditions you may see in a concert: the old switcheroo, the quick change/sneak off, the bow tapping, and the spin. The "old switcheroo" occurs when either the concertmaster (or any other principal string player) or the violin soloist has broken something, most commonly a string. If it is a string broken by the concertmaster, he/she will switch his/her violin with his/her stand partner's violin (the guy on the "inside"). Then, depending on what kind of a piece is being played and how close to the end of the concert it is, the stand partner can either elect to heroically play the fiddle with 3 strings, or pass it back to the rear of the section. In the rear of the section usually sits the musician that carries the spare strings for such an emergency. This musician/pit crew guy will pass his/her instrument up to the 2nd chair player, and then quickly replace the string. The switcheroo gets even more complicated when it is the soloist, for then the change is with the Concertmaster/principal string player, setting the whole above routine in motion but adding an extra player to the mix. Also, the pit crew guy in the back doing the change then has the added anxiety of having to change Mr. Bigshot Soloist's Million Dollar Stradivarius, quickly and without scratching or dropping it, knowing the soloist desperately wants nothing more than their own instrument back as soon as possible, basically having the FATE OF THE ENTIRE CONCERT IN HIS HANDS....
The "quick change/sneak off" is what happens when the pit crew guy forgets to/doesn't bring extra strings on stage and so then has to sneak off unobtrusively with 3000 people watching to make the change backstage.
"Bow tapping" is how we applaud soloists or anyone needing validation but can't use our hands because they are full of instruments. It looks weird at first and makes absolutely no noise, since we are just waving our bows in the air.
The "spin" happens usually in the lower strings (cellos/basses) but also in the violas but hardly ever in the violins. In the cellos/basses, it involves twirling the instrument at the endpin while holding it lightly at the neck. In the violins/violas, its slightly more difficult and scary because we don't have that endpin and so must form a closed circuit with the thumb and 1st or 2nd finger of our left hand and then use another finger and a wrist flick for the impetus to twirl it mid air and not drop it. This could explain why most high-strung (ha-ha-- get it? High -STRUNG… their strings are higher so...ah, forget it) violinists WON'T do it and laid back, thrill-seeking violists, will. WHEN do we do it? Well, you just know in your bones when the right moment comes along and a little spin is needed for emphasis. One spot where it always happens traditionally, throughout the world, is rehearsal letter J in Leroy Anderson's "Sleigh Ride."
Any questions about other mystifying traditions you see on stage? Let me know- and have a Happy Thanksgiving!
Friday, October 20, 2006
Hold the oboe
Lots of things have been substituted lately. When this week's scheduled conductor, Jeffrey Kahane, had to cancel at the last minute due to illness, conductor Christoph Campestrini stepped in. This sort of substitution happens rarely in classical music, not as much as it seems to happen in the theater, where understudies are called on more frequently. Some notable examples of last minute substitutions that led to huge careers for the substitutes include that of a young Leonard Bernstein for an ailing Bruno Walter, and the more dishy story of one of the greatest conductors of the early 20th century, Arturo Toscanini.
Toscanini was born in Parma, Italy and studied cello. In 1886 he was touring South America as a cellist with the orchestra of an opera company. While presenting Aida in Rio de Janeiro, the orchestra's conductor was booed by the audience and forced to leave the podium. Although he had no orchestral conducting experience, the 19 year old Toscanini was persuaded to take up the baton, and led a magnificent performance completely from memory. The rest, as they say, is history.
Back to Campestrini, who is from Austria and used the word "spicy" a lot in rehearsal, which got me thinking about that other most recent substitution in the news; that is, of swiss chard for poisonous e. coli spinach. Which then led me to some musing about a hypothetical concert in which you could substitute whatever you wanted to create your own version of the piece. Sort of like that Burger King commercial that (ok, dating myself here) I grew up with- "hold the pickle, hold the lettuce, special orders don't upset us, all we ask is that you let us serve it your way..."
So there you'd be, a whole orchestra in front of you, to basically do your bidding like customizing your entree at a restaurant (substitutions $3 extra, sharing $9, no doggie bags). "Uh, yes, I'll take the Beethoven 5, low fat, so hold the oboe; substitute extra spicy alto sax. I'm watching carbs, so could you put in only half of the double basses and leave them on the side, and instead of violas I'll have a side order of bongos." "And no contrabassoon, thanks."
Toscanini was born in Parma, Italy and studied cello. In 1886 he was touring South America as a cellist with the orchestra of an opera company. While presenting Aida in Rio de Janeiro, the orchestra's conductor was booed by the audience and forced to leave the podium. Although he had no orchestral conducting experience, the 19 year old Toscanini was persuaded to take up the baton, and led a magnificent performance completely from memory. The rest, as they say, is history.
Back to Campestrini, who is from Austria and used the word "spicy" a lot in rehearsal, which got me thinking about that other most recent substitution in the news; that is, of swiss chard for poisonous e. coli spinach. Which then led me to some musing about a hypothetical concert in which you could substitute whatever you wanted to create your own version of the piece. Sort of like that Burger King commercial that (ok, dating myself here) I grew up with- "hold the pickle, hold the lettuce, special orders don't upset us, all we ask is that you let us serve it your way..."
So there you'd be, a whole orchestra in front of you, to basically do your bidding like customizing your entree at a restaurant (substitutions $3 extra, sharing $9, no doggie bags). "Uh, yes, I'll take the Beethoven 5, low fat, so hold the oboe; substitute extra spicy alto sax. I'm watching carbs, so could you put in only half of the double basses and leave them on the side, and instead of violas I'll have a side order of bongos." "And no contrabassoon, thanks."
Thursday, October 05, 2006
1001 nights
This week while sitting in rehearsal after a 2 hour long marathon training run, my over-oxygenated brain cooked up a fantasy that incorporated two weeks' repertoire, and my current favorite marketing campaign .
The scene: The palace of the Sultan
The time: once upon a Long Ago
The story: Scheherazade is the daughter of the Grand Vizier to Sultan Shahriyar. The sultan's first wife had betrayed him, and in anger and grief he not only executed her but vowed to marry a woman each night and kill her the next morning. The sultan's cruel order was obeyed for three years, until Scheherazade conceived a plan to stop him and convinced her father to offer her as the sultan's next wife. Her plan was to tell him such an enthralling, cliff-hangerful story, that every night instead of choppin' off her noggin, he would beg for another. This would hopefully continue night after night, until the sultan would finally be convinced of her loyalty and rescind his death sentence.
But Scheherazade was just an ordinary Grand Vizier's daughter, not a paid celebrity. So to help tell her story, she hired celebrity singer/songwriter Burt Bacharach.
Scheherazade speaks:
Sinbad the sailor tells how he grew restless of his life of leisure, and set to sea , "possessed with the thought of travelling about the world of men and seeing their cities and islands." Accidentally abandoned by his shipmates, he finds himself stranded in an inaccessible valley of giant snakes and even more gigantic birds, the rocs, which prey upon them.
Burt sings:
Why do birds suddenly appear
Everytime you are near?
Just like me, they long to be
Close to you.
Scheherazade speaks:
The floor of the valley is carpeted with diamonds, and merchants harvest these by throwing huge chunks of meat into the valley which the birds then carry back to their nests, where the men drive them away and collect the diamonds stuck to the meat. The wily Sinbad straps one of the pieces of meat to his back and is carried back to the nest along with a large sack full of precious gems. Rescued from the nest by the merchants, he returns to Baghdad with a fortune in diamonds, seeing many marvels along the way.
Burt sings:
Knowing when to leave
Go while the going is good
Knowing when to leave may be the smartest thing anyone can learn.
Go!
Sultan cries: Ahhh! Wily vixen! I have "Close To You" running around and around and around in my head! You must get it out!
Burt: Sorry Sultan baby, but that's all for tonight. Catch our next show tomorrow night at 8 and 10. Thanks for coming, you've been a great audience, don't forget to tip the bartender on your way out.
And so the show played on the next night.
Scheherazade speaks:
A woman of the merchant class was married to a man who was a great traveler. Once he set out for a far country and was absent so long that his wife, out of sheer boredom, fell in love with a handsome young man, and they loved each other exceedingly. One day, the youth quarreled with another man, who lodged a complaint against him with the Chief of Police, and he cast him into prison. When the news came to the merchant's wife, she nearly lost her mind. Then she arose and--putting on her richest clothes--went to the house of the Chief of Police. She Greeted him and presented him with a petition which read, "The man you have imprisoned is my brother So-and-So, who had a fight with someone; but those who testified against him lied. He has been wrongfully imprisoned, and I have no one else to live with or to support me; therefore I beg you graciously to release him."
When the Chief had read the petition, he looked at her and immediately fell in love with her.....
Burt sings:
Magic moments, mem'ries we've been sharin''
Magic moments, when two hearts are carin
Time can't erase the memory of
These magic moments filled with love
And so on and so on, on and on and on and on and the King kept Scheherazade and Burt alive as he eagerly anticipated each new story and change of song, until, one thousand and one adventurous and supremely groovy nights, and three sons later, the King had not only been entertained by Burt but wisely educated in morality and kindness by Scheherazade who became his Queen.
(Burt sings to fadeout)
What's it all about, Sultan?
Is it just for the moment we live?
What's it all about when you sort it out, Sultan?
Are we meant to take more than we give
Or are we meant to be kind?
And if only fools are kind, Sultan,
Then I guess its wise to be cruel.....
The End.
The scene: The palace of the Sultan
The time: once upon a Long Ago
The story: Scheherazade is the daughter of the Grand Vizier to Sultan Shahriyar. The sultan's first wife had betrayed him, and in anger and grief he not only executed her but vowed to marry a woman each night and kill her the next morning. The sultan's cruel order was obeyed for three years, until Scheherazade conceived a plan to stop him and convinced her father to offer her as the sultan's next wife. Her plan was to tell him such an enthralling, cliff-hangerful story, that every night instead of choppin' off her noggin, he would beg for another. This would hopefully continue night after night, until the sultan would finally be convinced of her loyalty and rescind his death sentence.
But Scheherazade was just an ordinary Grand Vizier's daughter, not a paid celebrity. So to help tell her story, she hired celebrity singer/songwriter Burt Bacharach.
Scheherazade speaks:
Sinbad the sailor tells how he grew restless of his life of leisure, and set to sea , "possessed with the thought of travelling about the world of men and seeing their cities and islands." Accidentally abandoned by his shipmates, he finds himself stranded in an inaccessible valley of giant snakes and even more gigantic birds, the rocs, which prey upon them.
Burt sings:
Why do birds suddenly appear
Everytime you are near?
Just like me, they long to be
Close to you.
Scheherazade speaks:
The floor of the valley is carpeted with diamonds, and merchants harvest these by throwing huge chunks of meat into the valley which the birds then carry back to their nests, where the men drive them away and collect the diamonds stuck to the meat. The wily Sinbad straps one of the pieces of meat to his back and is carried back to the nest along with a large sack full of precious gems. Rescued from the nest by the merchants, he returns to Baghdad with a fortune in diamonds, seeing many marvels along the way.
Burt sings:
Knowing when to leave
Go while the going is good
Knowing when to leave may be the smartest thing anyone can learn.
Go!
Sultan cries: Ahhh! Wily vixen! I have "Close To You" running around and around and around in my head! You must get it out!
Burt: Sorry Sultan baby, but that's all for tonight. Catch our next show tomorrow night at 8 and 10. Thanks for coming, you've been a great audience, don't forget to tip the bartender on your way out.
And so the show played on the next night.
Scheherazade speaks:
A woman of the merchant class was married to a man who was a great traveler. Once he set out for a far country and was absent so long that his wife, out of sheer boredom, fell in love with a handsome young man, and they loved each other exceedingly. One day, the youth quarreled with another man, who lodged a complaint against him with the Chief of Police, and he cast him into prison. When the news came to the merchant's wife, she nearly lost her mind. Then she arose and--putting on her richest clothes--went to the house of the Chief of Police. She Greeted him and presented him with a petition which read, "The man you have imprisoned is my brother So-and-So, who had a fight with someone; but those who testified against him lied. He has been wrongfully imprisoned, and I have no one else to live with or to support me; therefore I beg you graciously to release him."
When the Chief had read the petition, he looked at her and immediately fell in love with her.....
Burt sings:
Magic moments, mem'ries we've been sharin''
Magic moments, when two hearts are carin
Time can't erase the memory of
These magic moments filled with love
And so on and so on, on and on and on and on and the King kept Scheherazade and Burt alive as he eagerly anticipated each new story and change of song, until, one thousand and one adventurous and supremely groovy nights, and three sons later, the King had not only been entertained by Burt but wisely educated in morality and kindness by Scheherazade who became his Queen.
(Burt sings to fadeout)
What's it all about, Sultan?
Is it just for the moment we live?
What's it all about when you sort it out, Sultan?
Are we meant to take more than we give
Or are we meant to be kind?
And if only fools are kind, Sultan,
Then I guess its wise to be cruel.....
The End.
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