Spotify. (I knew there was something up with that.)

Ok, so I thought there was something going on with Spotify.  As I mentioned in my previous musings about Yo-Yo Ma and Ton Koopman, Spotify is one of my new best friends.  Yes, I had my reservations and doubts, but somehow I just knew this music streaming technology was a particularly special type of new phenomenon, especially for seekers of classical music recordings. (Otherwise, how else would I have found "Vivaldi's Cello," one of my favorite Vivaldi renditions?) Then, the New York Times music critic Steve Smith wrote an article highlighting and praising Spotify's delightful perks. He, too, finds the music streaming technology both convenient and surprising. Spotify, though developed and established in Sweden, allows Americans to have access to certain recordings, such as keyboard works featuring Bach and John Cage played by pianist Francesco Tristano Schimlé on the Deutsche Grammophon label, which would otherwise be unavailable in the US. The count is endless for the amount of times I've researched the Naxos Music Library and had the proverbial "Oh, this recording exists, but only in the European Union, China, Japan, and Russia" slap me in the face. Woe is me at that point, and I turn to the capricious audio quality of Youtube. (The black-market Spotify in my opinion. You never know what you're going to get:  anywhere from crackles, pops, and whistles to muted sounds, distortions, and ridiculous images and lyrics to who-knows-what. Impressive indeed.)

However, when I received my invitation to enjoy this technology for free, I've never turned back or had my regrets about signing up. Of course, like Steve Smith says, I'm not ready to give up CDs or LPs, but in this gal's future, there are no more cracks, whistles, or pops. Good-bye Youtube.      

Vivaldi's Cello: Yo-Yo Ma, Ton Koopman, the Amsterdam Baroque Orchestra and Spotify

While rifling through the endless, yet convenient lists of musical artists featured on Spotify, one of my newest best friends, I typed "Vivaldi" in the search box and discovered a compilation of works by the Red Priest. Illustrious and commercial-friendly pieces, like the allegro movement of the Spring concerto and the other Four Seasons, were drawn from my search query. Various artists, some who I'd never heard before, also spattered my computer screen (like Pavel Sporcl, the Czech Republic's gypsy rock-star).  I came across, however,  Yo-Yo Ma's 2004 CD release of Vivaldi's Cello.  Intrigued, I stopped searching to listen further.

The Jazz Gallery presents: Steve Coleman and Five Elements

 

     The Jazz Gallery, a cozy, mysterious music venue nestled between New York's famous Soho and its outskirts at 290 Hudson Street, hosted a performance the previous two nights featuring Steve Coleman and Five Elements. As their name, Steve Coleman and Five Elements, suggests, Steve Coleman lead the ensemble and his five elements (Jen Shyu, vocals; Johnathan Finlayson, trumpet; Marcus Gilmore, drums; Miles Okazaki, guitar; and David Virelles, piano and keyboard synthesizer) supported him by coloring Coleman's compositions with their distinct musical voices and sounds. 
    Upon entering the Gallery, one is greeted by a set of aged, wooden steps.  If you look closely enough, each step's varnish is worn away where, over time, the footprints of the many people traversing its steep climb has exposed the woods' grains leaving only worn, white spots.  These weathered spots serve as a reminder that, after all, the role of the jazz musician is a role that depicts honesty and self-identity.  Because the wood's appearance is so bare with nothing left to protect it, the jazz musician, during a performance, is similar by the way his or her voice is revealed during improvisation.  The slow but gradual sense of growth towards developing a voice (i.e., how one moves away and toward a piece's melody during improvisation) is like the wood: polished and exposed through the continuous progression of time and the elements which rub its varnish away.  
       Passing the ticket man who sits at the top of the steps, there is a room with at least ten rows of chairs and a stage which is practically on top of the audience.

One further update -- City Opera's plans still under construction

Via Anthony Tommasini -- a New York Times update .

Rufus Wainwright, a modern savior of American opera?

Could it be? Rufus Wainwright -- singer, songwriter, son of legendary folk singers Loudon Wainwright III  and Kate McGarrigle as well as brother to Martha Wainwright and Lucy Wainwright Roche -- may be New York City Opera’s (i.e. City Opera or "the people's opera") saving grace?


For City Opera, the past two years have witnessed thorough attempts at revitalization.  There was a $107 million plan to refurbish the company's home at Lincoln Center -- the David H. Koch theater --  along with faulty managing of funds, poor repertoire choices, and a dangerously low audience attendance rate.  Optimal budget solutions have been proposed, agreed on, attempted at meeting, and sadly, have garnered no success.  Artist management authorities, such as Gerard Mortier  -- the former general director of Opéra National de Paris and director of numerous European music festivals (la Monnaie (Brussels), the Salzburg Festival, and the German Ruhr Triennale arts festival) -- have endeavored to save "the people's opera."  However, even the brilliance of Mortier's budget-torial planning did not save the company from making its decision to leave Lincoln Center which was officially announced a month ago in the NY Times.

A Conversation with Tobias Fischer, writer and editor-in-chief of Tokafi.com

Recently, I had the rare opportunity to speak with Tobias Fischer, writer, cultural editor for Germany's upmost publication for the world of recording "Print", and editor-in-chief of Tokafi.com  -- a blog that unites classical music alongside contemporary music, jazz, electronic music and the various other popular musical sub-genres.  Fischer has contributed pieces for publications such as All About Jazz, Klassik.com, Earlabs, Oro Molido, and MacLife.  Additionally, he regularly writes for New Zealand's art-based magazine "White Fungus" which informs readers of worldwide visual arts, comics, literature, history, political commentary, satire, and experimental music.  Since my area of focus is steeped in the idea of bridging the gap between music past and present, I wanted to hear his thoughts on today's classical music scene and its affect for the world at large.     

MF: How do you view the impact of contemporary music in today's classical music scene?

TF: On the one hand, I feel very strongly about the inclusion of contemporary works into the program of classical concert halls, both as an enrichment and a logical continuation of lineage from the past into the present. At the same time, the mechanism which awards 20^th and 21^st century composers their 15 minutes of exposure in a system otherwise dedicated to Mozart and Beethoven seems to be mostly based on a vague sense of duty and a guilty conscience rather than passion. To me, there needs to be a tangible connection between the different pieces of a concert program which extends beyond the merely intellectual: At the opening might of the Mini-Mahler series in Berlin (http://www.minimahler.com), Mahler's music was juxtaposed with pieces by the second Viennese School – a both historically intriguing and musically sound concept, which did not take any long explanations to be understood. Allowing an audience to get to know a piece of new music before they come to the hall also makes sense. Perhaps the acceptance of contemporary music in classical concert halls would be higher if audiences were to receive a CD with selected recordings of the pieces as part of their subscription prior to the events?

MF: Why did you decide to become a writer and when?

TF:  Probably as a boy in first grade. I can still remember being given the time to finish a story in an otherwise empty class room, while the others pupils had long sumbitted theirs, and thinking distinctly: This is what I want to do. Grammar school and a bad internship-experience at a local newspaper put that vision out of focus for a while - which is why it took another decade for me to finally make journalism my profession. Looking back, these years may not have been in vain: I spent entire days during my college-years reading nothing but reviews and articles and building up a huge desire to write about music. 

MF: What did you write for All About Jazz, and how do you think jazz as a writer?

TF: I wrote a piece on Tom Heasley and Toss Panos' „Passages“ for them and it's been a highly interesting experience. I don't think any other online magazine out there sports a similarly thorough review process and thinks as deeply about the coherency and quality of the contributions to the site. Heasley, of course, isn't, strictly speaking, a jazz-musician and my personal interests have since tended even more towards the intersection between sound art and improvisation, which is why the review may actually be the last text I'll contribute. But it has to be said that jazz writing has influenced me greatly. Bill Evans liner notes to „Kind of Blue“ or, in fact, all of the wonderful introductions to the entire Blue Note catalogue are markey by the fusion between a kind of poetic vagueness and informational quality that I strive for. In my liner notes to the albums by drone/jazz/space/avantgarde ensemble 3seconds of air (http://www.3secondsofair.com), I am paying homage to these influences.

MF: What do you find is most crucial to depict about it for your readers?

TF: Jazz oscillates between personal freedom and elements of group interaction, so one of the interesting aspects is to portrait how the two relate within a particular ensemble constellation. I also enjoy the idea that complex strucures can arise from very simple premises – documenting and commenting on that process is part of the allure of writing about it.

MF: For writing about music in general, what do you think is key to convey to the reader?

TF: The point in music journalism has long been to describe and rate compositions, but these two topics are probably farthest away from what I feel to be important. To me, music journalism should offer a glimpse at the ideas behind a work of music and at the artistic vision invested into it. Ideally, it should work both as an introduction to the material, a spark for a fruitful debate and as a source of reference to which one can return after having listened to the music to compare one's thoughts with those of the author. This - rather than providing an opinion - engages an audience from my perspective. At the same time, I feel it is also vital to not just consider the reader in this equation. Music journalism is always a three-party-relationship and should involve the musician as well. 

MF: Are conservatories in Europe readily accepting of teaching contemporary music technique and theory?

TF: Having actually never studied music at consevatory, I may not be the right person to ask here, but from what I hear, they definitely are. Turkish pianist Seda Röder (http://www.sedaroeder.com/) told me how her insight into 20^th century composition was decisvely changed through her university-years in Germany and how, in general, universities serve as focal points of the scene. An important aspect is that a lot of this teaching is done by people genuinely passionate about the music and imbued with a desire to take it to a wider public. 

MF: How do you view Historical Performance's future?

TF: Despite its quick rise to prominence, I think the movement is really just at its beginning. Probably the biggest problem lies in actually turning it into an artistic movement at all rather than, as is often the case, a marketing fad. Historic Practise deals with questions of interpretation an when applied sensibly, it simply means searching for the most precise realisation of a composer's intentions and to scrape away the obscurring layers of dust that have amassed over the centuries. Just putting on a wig and playing on badly-sounding instruments is not a valuable contribution to the debate.

Tristan Perich

During the weekend of April 29 - May 1, Tristan Perich, a New-York based composer/artist, came to Oberlin's Frank-Lloyd Wright House  and Cleveland's SPACES Gallery to present a modernist extravaganza.   

Serenity and unyielding power are nature’s most elegant and alluring facets.  That is why, when mixing elements of a computer (a purely human-derived contraption) along with the natural composure of sound found in acoustic instruments, Tristan Perich receives the attention he does.  Both quietly intriguing and beautiful, Perich’s work 1-Bit Music  is powerful in its sophisticated design which embodies the concept of naturalness.  Returning to the origin of electronic music, Perich incorporates square sound waves which interplay between electrical states 1 and 0.  He applies the philosophies of mathematicians Kurt Gödel and Werner Heisenberg which revolve around the idea that if something is consistent, then it is never complete.  Perich, driving this notion in 1-Bit Music, delivers a fascinating sonic display of cyclical motion.  Acoustic sounds intermingle with electronic ones that, at certain moments, bring out distinct lines of pulsations and tones which transfix the listener.  

Minimalist at its core, Perich’s 1-Bit Music contains its own rhythm which feels primitive, and this combined with his layering of oscillations between electronic and acoustic sounds, creates an effect where specific beeps and pulsations stick out over others.  This affect is felt most powerfully in his first piece titled Observations for two sets of crotales, three-channel 1-bit music (2008).  This implementation was developed by the interaction between the acoustic sounds presented in the crotales (which were played by Oberlin Conservatory students Austin Vaughn and Ryan Packard) and the electronic noises.  Each voice (electronic or acoustic) stopped completely to allow each other to shine at explicit landmarks in the composition.  All together, the effect was bewitching.  

Consistency, drive, and the interplay between electronic and acoustic sound waves  thrived throughout Perich’s presentation.  Three other compositions included: Momentary Expanse for solo vibraphone with two-channel 1-bit music (2008), qsqsqsqsqqqqqqqqq for three toy pianos and three-channel 1-bit tones (2009), and Dual Synthesis for harpsichord and four-channel 1-bit electronics (2009).  

Upon hearing Dual Synthesis, Perich’s ideal of circular motion, natural rhythm, and the interaction between acoustic and electronic sounds were brought to a higher level of fruition.  Synthesis (the longest) was a grandiose polyphony of circular motion allowing the individual sounds of the harpsichord to be heard, which would in response, invite the four-channel 1-bit electronics to solo as well.  At distinct points, harpsichord and electronics would convene in unison, and the result was mesmerizing.  Portions of the circle (or circular motion) conveyed by Perich’s 1-Bit ideal were distinguishable and clever.  Impressive on harpsichord, Daniel Walden was illustrated this effect tactfully and with tireless vigor.  

 
As an event spanning over three venues (Frank Lloyd Wright’s Weltzheimer-Johnson House, SPACES Gallery in Cleveland, and Fairchild Chapel -- cancelled due to an emergency in Perich’s family), 1-Bit Music is only one counterpart of Perich’s 1-Bit Project which incorporates his visual art as well.  

Beginning at the Wetzhimer-Johnson House, 1-Bit Music depicted an enchanting atmosphere which permitted the audience to be surrounded by nature and the ambience of home.   It was as though listeners were experiencing a premier of Haydn or Liszt especially with the application of the harpsichord and toy pianos.

 
Made possible through the funding of the Oberlin Creativity Fund and the Meet The Composer’s Metlife Creative Connections Program, the 1-Bit Project is, hopefully, a beginning towards bridging the gap between musicians and visual artists at Oberlin.    

We are who we are.

  

Communication believes in every type of medium.  The charm of colors, lines, shapes, and shading are what comprises visual art.  Dynamics, timber, register, and rhythm define music.  Writing involves argumentation, voice, assonance, alliteration, and appropriate adjectives.  The point to all of this is, after discussing with a friend the impact of our thought processes on music and writing which are developed by our daily life interactions, I found that, as musicians, visual artists, and writers, what lies at the basis of our work is the ability to masterfully translate and communicate life.  We live it, see it through a specific lens,  and try to make sense for other human beings the chaotic nature of everyday situations.  In this vein, we somehow make life easier by presenting it more comprehensively than it seems, and as musicians, artists, and writers, we serve a role that is similar to a minister, priest, rabbi, or guru.

That is why (if you are interested) you should all take a look into the Mysticism of Music, Sound, and Word by Hazrat Inayat Khan.  It is a beautiful representation of a musician's take on his own art and how it is a portal into the realities of life, love, and happiness.
For instance, take Khan's beginning to Part 1 of his book.  Here, Khan creates parallels between the idea of "creation" in the universe which is found in music.  Illustrating and comparing the original elements -- "earth, air, water, and fire" -- to specific sounds and colors, he creates a world that is viable through the power of music and sound.

Here, is what Khan says:

"The sound of fire is high pitched, its form is curled, and its color is red. It is heard in the falling of the thunderbolt and in a volcanic eruption, in the sound of a fire when blazing, in the noise of squibs, crackers, rifles, guns and cannons. All these have a tendency to produce fear.

The sound of air is wavering, its form zigzag, and its color blue. Its voice is heard in storms, when the wind blows, and in the whisper of the morning breeze. Its effect is breaking, sweeping and piercing. The sound of air finds expression in all wind instruments made of wood, brass and bamboo; it has a tendency to kindle the fire of the heart, as Rumi writes in his Masnavi about the flute. Krishna is always portrayed in Indian art with a flute. The air sound overpowers all other sounds, for it is living, and in every aspect its influence produces ecstasy."

Although what he is describing is "subjective," I find Khan's purpose with his descriptions compelling and offer a template into how to meld my music into the world at large.    

During Part III, Khan offers the question -- what is the "meaning" of "words," and why are they important?

"Then there is another question, namely: what makes a word powerful? Is it the meaning, the vibration, the way it is used, or the knowledge of the teacher who teaches the pupil to repeat it? The answer to such a question is that some words have power because of their meaning, others because of the vibration they produce, others for their influence upon the various centers. And there are some words given by saints, sages and prophets which have come inspirationally from God. In them is all blessing and the mystery of how to acquire all that the soul desires in life. If there exists any phenomenon or miracle it is in the power of words. But those who know of this power and who possess it never show it to others. Spiritual attainment is not a thing to be brought before people to prove that it is real, or as a show."

If you are reading this and thinking, "Wow, never before have words been so inspirational. Everything makes sense!" (Or, in other cases, it may confuse you.  Hey, but that's ok. Khan just wants you to think, and therefore, grow.) In my case, I could not stop reading what he has to say.    

None-the-less, The Mysticism of Sound and Music is resplendent in its humbleness, power, and delivery. You (musicians, writers, artists) will find even more importance in what-you-do.   

 

Ambrose...Ambrose...oh Ambrose

           Yes.  This is Ambrose Akinmusire -- jazz trumpeter/believer in life.

          This past Saturday (along with the Cleveland Thyagaraja Festival), I had an opportunity to experience the Ambrose Akinmusire Quintet along with my friend, other friends, and the rest of the  Oberlin students and/or various stragglers who could fit into the the Cat and the Cream at around 8 o'clock that evening.  It was a Saturday-to-remember especially in collaboration with cohort experiences, discoveries, and revelations garnered earlier that day.  Not only was I able to soak-up the wealth of beauty and magnificence living in Carnatic music, but I could witness a leader in today's jazz world. Crucial and poignant it was indeed.
          Recently raved about in a NY Times' April issue, Ambrose brought his expertise and the expertise of his colleagues (Harish Raghavan - bass, Walter Smith III -- tenor sax, Sam Harris -- piano, and Justin Brown -- drums) to Oberlin.  Students were provided a taste of his music as well as received a masterclass of his take on life as a musician, improvisation, and the crucial demands of an ensemble player.
         Within the first minutes of the performance, I was engrossed.  Continuing to fascinate me, jazz music involves "sounds" rather than "pitches" to indicate musical phrasing and voice within improvisation (though, most prevalent in trumpeters and sax players).  A sax player might blow air into the horn in a way that the instrument becomes over-burdened and produces an ugly, yet cool sound.  However, at the same time, theses "raw" sounds conveys the naturalness and realness of the player.  Upon hearing this, I imagine the vulnerability of the human voice and how it is subject to "cracking" on certain notes and such which somehow connects you more closely with your audience on a type of deeper level.  Trumpeters have this "rawness" especially.
       Ambrose's style is indulgent in this technique, and the overall effect is impressive which does not surprise me.  After all in the master-class which took place post-performance, he divulged the secret to his success as a musician:  finding "voice" requires active involvement in life rather than just shedding (i.e. "practicing") alone.            
           

the Cleveland Thyagaraja Festival -- Beautiful, Wonderful, and (oh so) Exuberant

  


     This past Saturday, a friend and I had a unique and absolutely rare opportunity to experience The Cleveland Thyagaraja Festival.  
                                                    
                         

     Celebrating the ancient and beautiful art of Indian Carnatic music, the Festival is a resplendent representation of music that I found to be genuinely pure, natural, and all together breathtaking.

This video features one of the four singers we saw on Sat.  Her name is Nisha Rajagopalan, and she was overall my favorite.  The video, too, gives you a tiny perspective into Carnatic music.

The art is beyond centuries old, and in experiencing it, I was also astonished to distinguish the modern influences applied to Carnatic music versus the indigenous ones (particularly the violin which was added after the British occupation of India).  Seeing and hearing this, I came to a distinct realization of the impact of cultural exchange and history -- a feeling which was so awesome and surreal.

Here is an example.

                                               

    What appears to me to be majestic and magnificent about this music is its focus around the voice and the attempts of each instrument to replicate and support it.  Especially noticeable is the violin's role.  As a firm believer of the violin being the closest instrument to the human voice, I felt that Saturday's performances further validated this fact.

   Why is Carnatic music so focused around the voice?  The answer is that the music's tradition is steeped in divine origin -- the lyrics are based off of ancient texts dedicated to Indian (or Hindu) deities.  Some lyrics specifically reference epic tales such as Ramayana and Mahabharata.

   Not only was the music exquisite, but the performers' formal Indian attire was alluring and elegant.  Humility and grace were woven into every aspect of each performance.  The musicians never stood while performing and only sat with legs crossed in respect to the words contained in the music they were about to share.

 A world easily forgotten by a vast majority of people today, Carnatic music is a stunning and fascinating treasure waiting for anyone who is ready to embrace it. 

  

Two weeks in March I forgot to mention -- Opera in Ohio does not fail to please

                                                                                                                    Roger Mastroianni                                                   

 Cleveland Orchestra's Don Giovanni Puts Metropolitan Opera To Shame

by Meghan Farnsworth

April 5, 2011

Ohio often yields itself to many surprises, and creative and artistic ingenuity thrives among the endless agricultural fields and the industrial smoke-stacks dotting the horizon. In this same vein, Cleveland, rated by Travel+Leisure magazine as second best to New York for its classical music scene, impresses with its ensembles, music schools and theater. With cohorts Oberlin, Akron and Wooster, Ohio flourishes with the energy that musicians crave, allowing college students to experience exceptional opera without having to travel to New York or Vienna. This is why it was possible, within two weeks in March, to experience two extraordinary performances of Mozart operas La Clemenza di Tito at Oberlin and Don Giovanni at Cleveland’s Severance Hall.

When the Oberlin Opera Theater presented La Clemenza di Tito at Hall Auditorium, I was impressed. The production showcased Oberlin Conservatory voice majors’ breadth of dedication and mastery, confirming why many Oberlin singers have enjoyed successful careers after graduation. Although La Clemenza’s story is set during the reign of the Roman Empire, the Oberlin Opera Theater used a modern set, costuming and props to communicate its message. This type of contemporary approach is very popular among today’s opera companies, as directors striving for historical accuracy often lose the depth and strength of an opera’s intended message. A modern adaptation, however, allows audiences to relate more convincingly and easily to its characters — indeed, just this month the Met set Strauss’s Capriccio in the 1920s rather than the 1770s.
Don Giovanni at Severance Hall followed a similar path. Featuring 2011 Musical America award winner for Vocalist of the Year Simon Keenlyside as Giovanni, with the Zürich Opera and the Cleveland Orchestra under Franz Welser-Möst, the production transported Mad Men to the Severance stage. Giovanni, opera’s famous casanova, was outfitted in a velvet waist-jacket while other male cast members wore simple, clean-cut suit-jackets. This crucial detail provided a more convenient reference point, allowing the audience to grasp the fullest extent of Giovanni’s seductive nature. Using elements of Severance Hall that could only be seen during a Cleveland Orchestra concert, the simplistic staging helped Don Giovanni become what Welser-Möst calls “a story that can happen here and now.”
At the heart of opera is its historically European roots, from La Scala in Italy to the Opéra national de Paris and London’s Convent Garden. Cleveland’s Severance Hall, however, is not too dissimilar to these exotic locations. According to Welser-Möst, the reason why he waited a year to allow Giovanni to be performed at Severance is because “Cleveland deserves the best”: this is also why he waited for the best baritone in the business, Simon Keenlyside, to become available to take center-stage as Mozart’s Don Juan.
In addition to his turn as Giovanni at Severance, Keenlyside has also appeared at La Scala, the Vienna State Opera and London’s Royal Opera House as well as collaborating alongside Europe’s prominent orchestras — the Berlin Philharmonic, the London Symphony Orchestra and the Vienna Philharmonic. Given Keenlyside’s extensive list of accomplishments, we can be proud to claim that America saw him perform Giovanni for the first time in Cleveland, Ohio.

Mainstream Music's Delightful Guardian: The Wire Primers

    

In 2009, The Wire (Britain's informative magazine covering all things avant-garde from hip-hop, contemporary classical music, electronic music, post-rock, and jazz) published a collection of articles called The Wire Primers: A Guide to Modern Music to supply what Alex Ross could not cover in his The Rest is Noise.
      But first, let me explain "the Primer." Originally intended as a listening guide to Karlheinz Stockhausen's music, "the Primer" serves as a supplement of reasons for today’s music consumer to buy and indulge in "modern" music.  Within each supplement contains the title of the suggested artist, then a brief introduction (which usually lasts 3 or 4 paragraph and explains the writer's take on the artist), and a list of the artist's recordings which contains a synopsis of each CD, LP, cassette, etc.  All together, this concept is what really drives the Wire’s focus.  
    An array of authorities on today's music, like Ben Ratliff of the NY Times and Louise Gray, author of the No-Nonsense Guide to World Music, have contributed to the Wire's first collection of "Primers" which serve as the publication's expert opinion on 20th/21st centuries’ most significant artists.
      On behalf of the Wire, something as informative as The Wire Primers is smart and sensical since "the Primer" itself is one of the Wire's most interesting facets, which is why (while walking past the numerous volumes of books in the Oberlin Conservatory's library) I was genuinely compelled to randomly grab it on a night of intense studying.  Its silvery, metallic cover donned with a collage of (well, I honestly don’t know what, but it's so cool).  Honestly, why wouldn’t anybody want this?  (I was seriously considering reading it that very same night rather than doing the much necessary work haunting me at home.)
    Despite some controversy I uncovered (protesting its gross generalizations especially in regards towards its section titled “Avant-Rock"), The Wire Primers is certainly a wonderful beginners manual to the world of modern music. That is why, for a person like me with training in classical music theory and performance, it is perfect, and an ideal work to be sitting on the shelves of Oberlin Conservatory’s library, because after all for most students there, “Modern music” is an unfortunate acquaintance briefly encountered in a music history 100-level course.       
  


    

James Ehnes Conquers Stravinsky and the Masters of Lyricism

James Ehnes Has Some Professional Fun

by Meghan Farnsworth

April 29, 2011

Benjamin Ealovega

To kick off his performance as part of the Artist Recital Series, violinist James Ehnes greeted Finney Chapel’s audience with calmness and quiet charm. As he walked onstage with pianist and colleague Orion Weiss, Ehnes stopped in front of the piano, bowed and threw the audience a boyishly elegant smile. With his professional yet somewhat childlike persona, Ehnes forged a personal connection with his audience that seemed to say: “Let’s get down to business — but let’s have fun at the same time.”

Hailed as “the Jascha Heifetz of our day” by Canada’s Globe and Mail, Ehnes, a native Canadian, reserves the right to “have fun” with audiences worldwide. With a Grammy, Gramophone and six Canadian Juno awards under his belt, Ehnes has recorded Paganini’s 24 Caprices (violin e?tudes that display Ehnes’s technical brilliance and thoughtful musicality), as well as a plethora of other complex pieces, including all five of Mozart’s violin concertos. With this vast and all-encompassing repertoire, none of the audience members present in Finney Chapel should have doubted Ehnes’s ability to command the expansive program he performed this past Tuesday, featuring — among others — Igor Stravinsky’s Suite Italienne, Evard Grieg’s Sonata No. 3 in C minor and the obscure Mozart Sonata No. 20 in C major, K 303.

Ehnes began the night with his rendition of Stravinky’s Suite Italienne, an interesting choice due to its only partial focus on the capabilities of a violinist’s technique. Instead, Suite Italienne focuses on the violinist’s ability to convey Stravinky’s rhythmical stamp in the bow hand while maintaining flawless tone and phrasing. Suite Italienne ultimately served as an ideal piece to start the evening, decreeing Ehnes’ sound as natural, conditioned and powerful.
Suite’s placid and balanced classical motifs careened into capriciousness with the program’s next piece — Grieg’s Sonata No. 3 in C minor — which vacillates between phrases of passion, the questioning of these ardent feelings and the truthful conviction in them. Inspired by a home visit by the alluring 20 year-old violinist Teresina Tua, Grieg’s Sonata No. 3 was his final chamber work and sonata for violin.

Even amidst the emotional torrent of the piece, Weiss followed and listened to Ehnes with stunning precision. His accompaniment was honest, providing immeasurable stability for Ehnes’s frenetic playing, and his phrasing was concise, emphasizing the thoughtful and appropriate arrival points of the music.
The last two pieces of the program modeled after the same type of pattern presented in the first half, with an immensely dramatic work providing a counter-balance to a lighter-natured one. The Mozart Sonata No. 20 — which Ehnes referred to as a “sorbet cleansing the palate” — contained only two movements: Adagio, Molto Allegro and Tempo di Menuetto. Serving as a portal into the life of the 22 year-old Mozart — the age at which he composed the sonata — the piece was innocent and cute, lacking the blemishes of the bleak realities of Mozart’s later life. The light-hearted Mozart piece was then capped off with the Saint-Saens’ Sonata No. 1 in D minor which ends on a surprisingly jocular major chord.

As “the Heifetz of our day,” Ehnes certainly lives up to the reputation of his predecessor; however, unlike Heifetz (who was criticized for his cold, detached playing), Ehnes’s playing fully embodies the phrasing and tonal spectrum of a piece. Simply mastering violin technique is not his first priority. Rather, his playing serves as a bridge between the past and the present, producing a unique sound that is both modern and traditional.

Hello Cleveland! Viva la Revolucion!

     Yes, Cleveland -- there is a Revolution near you. To be exact, it' a Classical Revolution that will happen this Tuesday, April 19 between 8-10 P.M.
     All over the U.S., Canada, and Europe -- from Toronto, Montreal, Detroit, D.C., Portland, Seattle, Philly, South Florida, Houston, Pittsburgh, Berlin, Amsterdam, and even Cincinnati, bars and cafés will play host to chamber music.  Yes, that's right.  Out from the feathery cobwebs, starchy collars and powdered wigs (not that I mind powdered wigs seeing as how Mozart and Marie Antoinette were creators of ones I particularly dig) arrives classical music for a generation in the here and now.

    Founded in 2006 at the Revolution Cafe in the Mission District of San Francisco, Classical Revolution features recently graduated artists from music schools such as Oberlin Conservatory, San Francisco Conservatory, Juilliard, and Rice University.  "To present concerts involving both traditional and modern approaches while engaging the neighborhood by offering chamber music performances in highly accessible venues and collaborating with local musicians and artists from various styles and backgrounds" -- its mission statement. 
   Since its creation, it has continually spread.  Who would have ever thought that venue choice alone could have such an immense impact on as high of an art form as classical music?  (Music in general, or any form of "self-expression," in my opinion, is high art. Yet many people consider "classical music" as the highest form of self-expression for the music world.  So, I say this in regards to those traditional folks.)  Classical Revolution makes classical music "cool" and accessible to the audiences culturally conditioned to receive pop, hip-hop, rap, and all forms of rock.  

   So, go check it out.  It will be fine, fab, fantastic, and all of the hip and pimpley-hyperboles one can muster.  It's at the Happy Dog on W. 58th & Detroit, Gordon Sq.           

Blurring Musical Boundaries

    While rifling through the Strings January 2011 issue, I came across an intriguing article.  Today’s burgeoning, fool-proof classical music is sustained in its ability to cross-over genre-defining boundaries.  Titled “Unconventional Wisdom,” the author, Jeremy Kurtz, celebrated the fact that modern string players no longer need to embrace ideas of endless, rote preparation of orchestral excerpts in finding an acceptable paying gig.  Instead, fully equipped with electricity, James Page, Robert Plant, Bill Munroe and His Bluegrass Boys, associates Mozart, Stravinsky, and Bach, classical musicians can really bring it with the concept of well-roundedness (not just preparedness) as vital organs in their repertoire.
    Kurtz interviewed three bassists: Louis Levitt of the Sybarite5, Peter Seymour of Project Trio, and Paul Kowert of the Punch Brothers -- three ensembles that encompass the idea of crossing-over genre barriers.  Because chamber music repertoire yields a barren amount of quintet literature including a bass part, these three bassists solved the issue and concocted, along with the other musicians in their ensembles, a formula: engage modern audiences and claim sanctuary for the desperate chamber musician bassist. 

    According to Louis Levitt of Sybarite5, after preparing a program for one performance that included Dvorak and Led Zeppelin’s “Babe, I’m Going to Leave You,” audience members, intent on hearing standard chamber music repertoire, were impressed with Sybarite5’s Led Zeppelin arrangement.  The secret behind this phenomenon? Listing on the program “James Page and Robert Plant” as the piece’s composers instead of “Led Zeppelin.”  Audience members were asking Levitt,  “James Page and Robert Plant -- how come I’ve never heard of them? Where can I hear more of their music?  Do you have any recordings?” 
    At the essence of any notable piece of music -- whether it be classical, jazz, funk, rock, or pop -- remains a constant message: its relation and message to the audience.  Levitt himself says, “If you take the music seriously and present it in a serious way, the audience takes it seriously.”  So, with his advice, I believe that today’s classical music lovers can succumb to the idea of accepting strictly American-cultivated music which is being added to the austere “European” artform of Western Classical Music. American rock musicians (or even jazz, blues, and country artists who invented rock with their influences) can present “serious” music because truly they communicate so well with audiences today.  So, does it matter the medium used to connect listeners to what any performer is trying to say? I believe the answer is no.  After all, like modern art which is devoid of strict mediums, music too can communicate incredible messages.                             

Take Punch Brother's Bach's Brandenburg Concerto No. 3 for instance,

Or Project Trio's version of a Bach Bourée à la Jethro Tull.

Opera finally!! A Preview for Oberlin Opera Theater's Annual Production

Talented Cast Conquers Updated Mozart Opera La Clemenza di Tito

by MEGHAN FARNSWORTH

MARCH 17, 2011

Darkness surrounded Hall Auditorium as a head bopped into view in the middle of the orchestra pit. The head belonged to guest conductor Niels Muus, who established a commanding yet amiable persona from the very beginning of the overture. Right after the orchestra finished, the curtain lifted and luminescent, metallic Romanesque columns appeared before the audience’s eyes. So began the opening night performance of Oberlin Opera Theater’s production of Mozart’s La Clemenza di Tito.

Written during the last year of his life between July and September 1791, Mozart finished La Clemenza on the eve of its initial performance. Accordingly, the opera is often criticized for its hastily compiled nature; however, during the early 19th century Clemenza was one of Mozart’s most popular operas, and the work is now hailed as a landmark in the development of the opera seria genre (an Italian form of opera that is characterized by its intensely dramatic nature).

As the title suggests, Mozart’s La Clemenza di Tito (“The Clemency of Titus”) articulates a message of mercy and forgiveness. The opera features a cast of characters who alternately display extreme forms of compassion, passion, skepticism, selfishness and most significantly, love (a theme that serves as the driving force behind almost every opera).

Unsurprisingly, the forces of love motivate the plot of Clemenza as well. The opera is set in Rome, where the city’s ruler Tito is enamored with the foreign queen Berenice. Vitellia, the emperor’s daughter, believes that she should be Tito’s consort, and seeks revenge on him by seducing Sesto, Tito’s loyal companion. Vitellia then convinces Sesto to lead an assassination attempt on Tito, resulting in a shocking and unexpected ending.

The production features two separate casts: one for Wednesday and Saturday, and another for Friday and Sunday. The opening night performance showcased Conservatory seniors Cree Carrico as Vitellia, Roy Hage as Tito and Julia Dawson as Sesto. The Friday/Saturday cast features Conservatory seniors Summer Hassan as Vitellia and George Somerville as Tito, and Conservatory junior Katherine Janakos as Sesto.

Utterly stunning and impressive, the talented and professional company portrayed their roles with passion, dedication and artistry. Each singer’s part could stand on its own and was never dependent on the power of other voices for support. Even when characters were singing duets, the sound of their voices in unison was clear and clean, beautifully showcasing the singers’ perfect intonation.

Director Jonathon Field’s simple and effective staging was also striking, with specific moments beautifully highlighting the action as it unfolded. For instance, Carrico as Vitellia would, at certain points, retrieve a tube of lipstick from her clutch, applying the lipstick with painstaking, almost religious care. This simple gesture served as a subtle and tasteful foreshadowing of the opera’s ending. The chorus, who walked slowly and steadily while elevated behind the stage’s columns, was another ingenious staging detail, making it seem as if the main events unfolding at the front of the stage were doing so in a completely different time zone.

I strongly recommend Clemenza to anyone who loves modernist, updated adaptations of Shakespeare plays: Contemporary elements such as Pop Art, iPads and cocktail dresses make appearances throughout the production. The inventive production design, with a hint of harpsichord thrown into the mix, results in a refreshing and delightful approach to opera seria. Even Mozart himself would adore it. 

"Hear What the World is Talking About" - Really?

From the New York Times - Music Critic vs. Maestro: One Looses His Beat and Norman Lebrecht's Franz Welser-Möst - The conductor they loved to hate

   Wakin and Lebrecht’s articles are both from early moments in Cleveland conductor Franz Welser-Möst’s career. Nevertheless, both address a relevant issue in Cleveland today: the strange and tumultuous success of conductor Welser- Möst.
   Don’t get me wrong. The Cleveland Orchestra will always be at the top of its game, regardless of conductor. The purpose of music, however, is self-expression and communication that exhibits passion and substance. And I feel compelled to write that, under Franz Welser-Möst, the orchestra has lost most of this. 

    After seeing Andrey Boreyko conduct the orchestra a few weeks ago, there was an improved difference throughout the ensemble during Prokofiev's Fifth Symphony.  A high-caliber performance must be musically passionate and non-formulaic which is artistry, and for a vast ensemble like the Cleveland Orchestra, this really depends on who’s leading the ensemble.   It just makes sense, and this change was incredibly apparent when Boreyko brought his energy and knowledge to conduct the Prokofiev.  It could be felt, sensed, seen, and heard. 

     These two articles are a good example of what I feel is happening throughout the classical music world, and how over time, it will slowly be disintegrated by it.  The lack of criticism, awareness, and opinion which glosses over classical music performances (and the art world too) will do this.        

Careful - This May be Your Last Look at Classical Music Stardom

Artist Recital Series: Pianist Bronfman Shows Flair for Understatement

by MEGHAN FARNSWORTH

MARCH 10, 2011

MEGHAN FARNWORTH

Bronfman Brings It :

Russian-Israeli pianist Yefim Bronfman displayed subtly brilliant artistry and a brusque stage persona during his performance at Finney Chapel last Saturday.

During this past Saturday’s Artist Recital Series concert, a silent and venerable man graced Finney Chapel’s stage. The man was Yefim Bronfman, a concert pianist renowned for his viable palate of musical warmth and depth. Born in Tashkent of the former Soviet Union, Bronfman’s artistic assertiveness and clarity shines through his extensive classical piano repertoire. He has received praise from audiences worldwide, a reputation that has earned him a 1997 Grammy for his interpretation of Bartok’s Piano Concertos 1, 2 and 3.

With a beefy program — Joseph Haydn’s Sonata in C Major, Robert Schumann’s Humoreske in B-flat Major, and Frederic Chopin’s Twelve Etudes — Bronfman walked onstage with brisk purpose, launching into Haydn’s Sonata before even fully sitting down on the piano bench. Written while Haydn was in his sixties, the sonata starts with an Allegro movement that perfectly captures the composer’s exuberant youthfulness and playfulness.

Bronfman established his knack for beautiful and cohesive phrasing in the first few moments of Sonata, playing assertively, yet with surprising freedom and expression. Eschewing flamboyant stage antics, Bronfman commanded the audience with every nuance, color and tone that flew from his fingers. Despite Finney’s cavernous acoustics, the audience could hear every note even at the quietest dynamic, a feat that is representative of true artistry.

Schumann’s Humoreske in B-flat Major showed a side of Bronfman that further confirmed his standing as a compelling artist and interpreter. Originally called Gross Humoreske, or “great humoresque,” the work’s six movements represent Schumann’s capricious mood swings: Although today the term humor is associated with comedy and laughter, the title of Schumann’s piece is a reference to the centuries-old concept of the four humors – black bile, yellow bile, phlegm and blood — that govern the human body. Completely changing the color and tone from the Haydn sonata, Bronfman’s rendition of Humoreske was carefully mapped out and planned, a precision that yielded subtle and effective phrasing, dynamics and color.

Yet it was the last piece on the program — Chopin’s Twelve Etudes — that most exemplified Bronfman’s prodigious gifts, culminating in a technically brilliant performance that tastefully complemented his musical artistry. All the musicality remained in the pianist’s fingers as he played the piece, deftly navigating the technical challenges presented by Chopin’s writing. Although the form of the etudes is often associated with mechanical and unemotional music, Bronfman deliberately avoided falling into this rut by creating distinction between his left and right hands, brilliantly articulating two separate voices on the piano. The result of this careful tactic was nothing short of fantastic. 

As the evening reached its conclusion, Bronfman exited the stage in a manner befitting of his stage persona: promptly and without flourish. However, the audience’s resounding applause beckoned him back onstage, and he returned to the piano without hesitation to perform a total of three encores. In a sense, this brilliant conclusion to a brilliant evening was perhaps Bronfman’s way of saying, “Here, I’ll show you what I’ve got. Take it — or leave it.” 

For your consideration...

Boreyko Stirs Fire in Cleveland Orchestra During Finney Chapel Performance

by MEGHAN FARNSWORTH

MARCH 3, 2011

MEGHAN FARNSWORTH

Cleveland Sounds Fill Finney Hearts

The Cleveland Orchestra visited Oberlin last weekend.

As part of its annual Oberlin Artist Recital Series visit, the Cleveland Orchestra showcased new and upcoming talent during its performance last Friday evening. Although typically directed by conductor Franz Welser-Möst, last Friday’s performance showcased the artistry of Russian-born Andrey Boreyko, who led a program featuring Igor Stravinsky’s Divertimento: Suite from “The Fairy’s Kiss,” Peteris Vasks’s English Horn Concerto and Sergei Prokofiev’s Fifth Symphony in B-flat Major.

The first piece, Stravinsky’s Divertimento, was an ideal warm-up for the orchestra. Written for the ballet Le baiser de la fée (“The Fairy’s Kiss”) as an homage to Tchaikovsky’s early works, the suite beautifully conveys Stravinsky’s admiration for Tchaikovsky’s music by quoting liberally from his pieces.

The orchestra’s rendition of the suite captured the compositional style characteristic of Tchaikovsky — resplendent, lyrical and quietly evocative melodies — while still preserving Stravinsky’s primitive and rhythmical stamp, a performance that demonstrated the ensemble’s polished aesthetic. The instrumental sections impressively listened to each other and followed one another’s leads, resulting in a unification of sound that bolsters the orchestra’s reputation as a world-renowned ensemble.

However, under the direction of Andrey Boreyko, the orchestra lost its musical warmth and passion. Though metronomical, precise and assertive, Boreyko seemed somewhat musically estranged from the first two pieces, demonstrating a lack of familiarity that also revealed itself at other points throughout the recital. Although the exquisite music of Stravinsky and Prokofiev speaks for itself, under the guiding hand of Boreyko, the ensemble’s ethos appeared to be as follows: Learn the music, play it well, and forget what it actually means.

During Vasks’s English Horn Concerto, however, the audience could overlook the orchestra’s rote performance and Boreynko’s mechanical direction. Featuring the Cleveland Orchestra’s Robert Walters on English horn, the concerto showcased the virtuosic Walters’s rich tone and excellent sense of time and rhythm. Much like the work of composers Ralph Vaughn Williams and Antonin Dvorak, Vasks’s concerto incorporated folk elements and soaring, poignant melodies, serving as an ideal fit for Walters’s English horn.

During intermission, the audience anticipated Prokofiev’s Fifth Symphony, a piece that I would wait more than 15 minutes to experience. Defined by the composer himself as “a symphony about the human spirit,” Prokofiev’s Fifth Symphony exudes passion, strength, love and tragedy. I feared that these emotions would be lost in Boreyko’s translation of the piece, because even if you have learned the symphony perfectly and cleanly, if you play any of the notes without meaning, the piece communicates nothing.

Yet when Boreyko came back to the platform and conducted the first few phrases, a whole different man seemed to be onstage. The orchestra changed its demeanor as well, prompting me to mentally step back a few paces and think, “Wow.” To my surprise and delight, Boreyko knew the symphony like the back of his hand and could really lose himself in the music. It was as though he was an actor conveying every nuance of the piece, capturing Prokofiev’s spirit through his facial expressions, body language or even through oddly gesturing with his left hand.

By the end, the Cleveland Orchestra’s performance was faithful to Prokofiev’s original intentions for his symphony — it sung “the praises of the free and happy human being — of such a person’s strength, generosity and purity of soul.” During last Friday’s performance, Boreyko’s actions stirred a fire in the orchestra, and they had never sounded better.