Sunday, December 19, 2010

Ozawa & Britten War Requiem

Seiji Ozawa, who's been suffering from esophageal cancer, has returned to the podium for some concerts with his Saito Kinen Orchestra. Below, the review in the NY Times.

I conducted the War Requiem in 1987 at PLU (see my blog post, here), which was an absolutely great experience. Some of my singers then had the fantastic and emotional experience the next year of a choir tour to England, where we gave a concert at Coventry Cathedral, where the work was premiered. A fabulous experience--both of them!




December 19, 2010

Adding Another Layer to ‘War Requiem’ Story

Benjamin Britten’s “War Requiem,” completed in 1962 for the reopening of Coventry Cathedral in England, which had been bombed out by the Germans and rebuilt, was the great internationalist statement of a pacifist. To drive the point home in the first performance Britten wanted vocal soloists from Britain (Peter Pears), Germany (Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau) and the Soviet Union (Galina Vishnevskaya, who, barred from traveling to England, had to be replaced by the British soprano Heather Harper).

As an idealist force, if that is not an oxymoron, the work still packs a punch. It certainly did in a 2002 performance conducted by Britten’s friend (and Ms. Vishnevskaya’s husband) Mstislav Rostropovich in Peenemünde, Germany — at a plant used in Nazi times to develop the dreaded V-2 rocket, now a museum — with an international cast and an audience including Mikhail Gorbachev and other dignitaries.

The work has also afforded a platform for intensely personal statements, as when the great humanist conductor Robert Shaw put the baritone Benjamin Luxon forward in a 1994 presentation at Carnegie Hall, exquisitely prepared in a weeklong choral workshop, knowing full well that Mr. Luxon was almost deaf and prone to error. The performance proved a deeply moving triumph for both, as well as for Britten.

And on Saturday evening, in the last of three concerts by the Saito Kinen Orchestra at Carnegie Hall, Seiji Ozawa touched both the internationalist and the personal chords. In the first two concerts, on Tuesday and Wednesday, Mr. Ozawa, mostly recovered from surgery and treatment for esophageal cancer early in the year but still suffering acutely from sciatica, conducted only half of each.

Here he led the whole 85-minute “War Requiem,” including the segments incorporating Wilfred Owen’s poetry and scored for chamber orchestra, typically handled by a second conductor. He worked seated much of the time, looking less vigorous than he had earlier in the week despite his obvious frailty, and an intermission was added to help conserve his energy.

“I personally do not care for political pieces,” Mr. Ozawa wrote in program notes, but he was introduced to the “War Requiem” by a Rostropovich performance in 1979, and he has obviously internalized the work. He conducted from memory, as usual, with complete command and a loving attention to detail and nuance.

His current affection for the piece stems in part from its role in his physical recovery, he said in an interview in September. Having led most of the same forces in the work at the Saito Kinen Festival in Matsumoto in 2009, he set about restudying it.

“I had so much time, and I couldn’t do anything else, and music became more and more important,” he said. “Maybe the piece was a little too heavy, but I felt so happy to study and have time.”

The international representation was assured by the very nature of the Saito Kinen Orchestra, which mingles Japanese and Japanese-American performers (especially the string players) with Westerners. The Japanese choruses — the SKF Matsumoto Choir and Children’s Choir and the Ritsuyukai Choir — performed superbly, with powerful fortissimos and breathtaking pianissimos, and they articulated the Latin texts admirably.

The vocal soloists — Christine Goerke, a penetrating soprano who sometimes shaded flat; Anthony Dean Griffey, a touchingly communicative tenor; and Matthias Goerne, initially remote but ultimately a hauntingly involved baritone — were strong and well matched. And the orchestra shone again, with those remarkable strings upholding their lofty standard and the brasses — after a few early hitches — improving on their previous performances, in blazing climaxes.

With an obvious mix of exhaustion and exhilaration Mr. Ozawa generously shared the clamorous ovation from an audience that seemed to have taken in the work’s — and the performance’s — many messages.

Friday, December 17, 2010

More Charlie Rose: Gergiev, Masur, & Slatkin

http://www.charlierose.com/view/interview/4968

Simon Rattle on Charlie Rose

James Franklin asked if I'd seen Simon Rattle on Charlie Rose's show (I hadn't). Here it is:

http://www.charlierose.com/view/interview/11358

Online "Christmas Card" advertising the new Arts Center in Kristiansand, Norway

My sister-in-law is an administrator for the Kristiansand Symphony Orchestra (Kristiansand is at the southern tip of Norway) and sent this e-card with a picture of the new hall, plus photos of the performing ensembles (orchestra, opera, dance) accompanied by a recording from their Christmas concert this year, featuring Norwegian trumpet player Tine Thing. To get the card to play, click on the link, "Klikk på kortet for a åpne det."

A lovely way to publicize their new hall, which is close to opening and a nice way for anyone to publicize their ensemble/organization. I'll have to find out if we can do something like this at UNT!


 
Tips en venn | Abonnere | Avregistrere

Postadresse: Marviksveien 140, 4632 Kristiansand
 

Raising your own money for the arts

An article from the Wall Street Journal. A huge challenge for the future of the Arts is to find new models for funding what we do.

http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748703395204576023762886208764.html

Jeramy Zimmerman wants to teach artists how to ask for money.

The choreographer and co-founder of dance company CatScratch Theatre is launching a contemporary dance festival in January called FLICfest at the Irondale Center in Brooklyn.

She donated $5,000 in start-up costs and is asking fellow artists and dance enthusiasts to help raise $17,000 to cover the rest of the costs. Irondale is offering the space at no cost.

"We're paying the choreographers for their work, which rarely happens for a show of our size, but asking them for a commitment to help us fundraise," Ms. Zimmerman says. "It's part of a movement to get artists comfortable asking people to donate money and fund-raising for projects instead of just waiting for a big patron or government grant."

Taking inspiration from the 2008 presidential election, which marshaled hundreds of thousands of micropayments toward the campaign of now-President Barack Obama, she says too many artists fund shows out of their own pockets or don't showcase their work because they can't get funding.
Additionally, cultivating a group of donors also "builds a community of people that are then invested in the work," Ms. Zimmerman says.

The festival will present feature-length dance and performances by 12 choreographers over two weeks. Performances include Prime Mover, a piece by Jonah Bokaer that employs a constellation of satellites and GPS receivers, and Confined, a piece by Emily Berry that combines live music by violinist and composer Daniel Bernard Roumain, the spoken word by writer Todd Craig and scenography by Gail Scott White.

Typically festivals present shorter works that max out at 15 minutes to bring in as many viewers and participants as possible to fund the show.

At FLICfest, works will run 50 minutes to an hour.


"A longer work allows for a greater development of an idea and the attention of the audience," Ms. Zimmerman says. "If you give the audience a change, it's amazing how long they will really stay with you.


The 38-year-old choreographer dropped out of law school in 1994 to pursue dance and started the CatScratch Theatre in 2000 to perform in non-traditional spaces such as the Staten Island Ferry and subway cars. She received a master's degree in fine arts in dance from New York University's Tisch School and most recently participated in the Modern Museum of Art's exhibition on performance artist Marina Abramovic.

"I could keep producing my own show every year but what I really want to do is help create new models and new things for other people to participate in," she says. "Then they can improve upon those models and keep the art of dance alive and vital.

Thursday, December 16, 2010

Leon Fleisher

A great musician and pianist, this from the Wall Street Journal:

http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748703326204575616911411469180.html?mod=WSJ_ArtsEnt_LifestyleArtEnt_4

Leon Fleisher, a grizzled bear of a man, sits slightly crumpled in a chair at his publisher's office, somewhat worn for wear. But his eyes are as probing as searchlights. That's not surprising. The 82-year-old pianist has a reputation for piercing to the heart of things with the lyrical insights of a poet; students at the Peabody Institute have even nicknamed him "Obi-Wan Kenobi" in an affectionate reference to the wise Jedi knight from "Star Wars."
[ccfleisher] Chris Serra
We are together to talk about his new autobiography, written with Anne Midgette, titled "My Nine Lives." It's a remarkable story by any standard. A student of the legendary Artur Schnabel, Mr. Fleisher was among the best of a generation of American talents. He made his Carnegie Hall debut at age 16 with the New York Philharmonic under the direction of conductor Pierre Monteux, who dubbed him "the pianistic find of the century." Throughout the 1950s and early '60s, he fulfilled every expectation of that declaration. Then, beginning in 1962, the pianist developed weakness in his right hand, causing two fingers to curl involuntarily.

There was no explanation for it, though in time it garnered the official diagnosis of focal dystonia. "I went from doctor to doctor," he once told me. "I tried everything from aromatherapy to Zen Buddhism and no one had any answers. . . . [But] it usually happens to people who use fine muscles under pressure. It hits surgeons in the hands, horn players in the lips and singers in the vocal cords." The pianist turned to repertoire for the left hand alone, and pursued other avenues, such as conducting and teaching. In the last several years, through a variety of therapies, he has been able to use both hands again, though with some limitations.

Yet, even while retreating from the stage, he helped to shape extraordinary talents like André Watts and Yefim Bronfman. Some years ago, I witnessed the power of his approach at the Ravinia Festival outside of Chicago, as he coached a young woman in a master class. "Play it with more light," he told her. "Not with the hot light of the sun, but with the cold light of the moon." Her interpretation changed instantly. "You heard a difference?" he asked me, surprised and humbled when I related the story. "It was dramatic," I told him. "I'm gratified to hear that," he replied softly.

The secret of great musical performance lies in listening, he reveals. "It is a tripartite process: We have to be three people at once. Person A 'hears' what the music should sound like, setting the goals. Person B sits there and pushes the keys down, in response to Person A. Person C sits apart and judges, telling Person B what adjustments to make. This goes on simultaneously. Most students are concerned with producing what they want—A and B—but they have the least amount of space in their brains for listening: C.

"In all the conservatories, including my own at the Peabody Conservatory and the Curtis Institute, the kids are extremely competitive—they want to play louder and faster than the pianist in the next studio. Most of them can play the hell out of the piano in a way that their elders never could. But they belong more appropriately in the Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey Circus. It all has very little to do with making art. They have a lot of work to do, but it's easier just to pump plastic."

Couple this lack of listening with a "competition for the entertainment dollar," he asserts, and you get a truly destructive combination. "Players try to convince us by using body English—they writhe or look up at the ceiling—all to prove how affected they are by the music. They don't realize what a distraction it really is. We are supposed to be impressed by their show of emotion, but in reality they are merely erecting a barrier between the music and my soul."

Mr. Fleisher is heir to a legacy that focused on music rather than on showmanship. ("The difference between my programs and those of other pianists," Schnabel once announced, "is that mine are boring not only in the first half but also in the second.") This has translated into a lifelong love affair with the great masterworks, especially those of one national school in particular. He writes in the book of his enduring connection to the Brahms First Piano Concerto, but that is merely one example of his admiration for Germany's musical legacy.

"French music is sensory—it involves smell and taste and touch," he explains. "The main characteristic is Impressionism: You squint your eyes and see the outlines. I've often wondered what would happen if you could squint your ears. But quantitatively, the repertoire is minimal: There is essentially Debussy, Ravel and Fauré. Russian music is very subjective—it is really built around the 'I.' The Russians write beautiful tunes, but they are often kind of whiny and breast-beating: 'Look how I suffer.' There isn't that large a quantity of it either—we mostly hear Rachmaninoff, Prokofiev and Shostakovich.

"German music is what knocks you out—in quantity as well as in quality. This is a strange thing for someone of my generation to say after witnessing World War II," he admits, "but the German tradition is metaphysical. It connects with the greater cosmos. It asks in what way I am like a brook or a tree. Beethoven, for example, always strives for things beyond the merely personal. And the breadth is unbelievable—from Bach, Haydn, Mozart, Schubert and Beethoven to Brahms." It is music of philosophical depth and great intricacy, and Mr. Fleisher's renderings of it over the years have been, as the Kennedy Center Honors announced when they awarded him a medal in 2007, "a testament to the life-affirming power of art."

When asked what he plans to do next, the pianist seems taken aback. His work has never stopped. "I hope to get up tomorrow," he says unceremoniously.
 
Mr. Isacoff is on the faculty of the Purchase College conservatories of music and dance (SUNY) and author of "Temperament: How Music Became a Battleground for the Great Minds of Western Civilization" (Knopf/Vintage).

Colbert & Sondheim . . .

What could be better?

This includes Sondheim's appearance on Colbert's show,  where Colbert sings his own version of send in the clowns:

http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/culturemonster/2010/12/stephen-sondheim-holds-his-own-against-stephen-colbert.html