papsrus

Tuesday night: Orpheus Chamber Orchestra Haydn -- Symphony No. 1 in D Major Mozart -- Piano Concerto No. 20; Khatia Buniatishvili, piano Arensky -- Variations on a Theme by Tchaikovsky Rachmaninoff -- Suite No. 2 for Two Pianos (arranged for orchestra)

Brahms Symphony No. 3 Fritz Reiner, CSO

Bruckner, Symphony No. 7 (Orchestral Concert CDs) Kurt Masur, Berliner Staatskapelle Orchestra Recorded live at Royal Festival Hall, Nov. 17, 1967 Now, I stumbled across this recording after Masur passed away and I was flipping through some comments about him at Talk Classical. The gentleman who recorded this concert, now in his 80s and living in the Czech Republic, apparently was something of a pioneer, or at least an enthusiastic exponent, of the technique of using just two microphones hung from the rafters as a way (or as the best way) to faithfully capture an orchestra's live sound, a technique that gives a true "live" sonic picture of the orchestra without the interference of dozens of microphones and the subsequent mixing and massaging by engineers seeking to properly balance and "perfect" the sound. In other words, without adding a layer (or two) of artificiality to what actually took place. Or at least that's the theory here. I must say, there is a sort of "live" presence and clarity to this recording that maybe allows the nuances of the orchestra to emerge in a more natural manner than you might get with a tightly engineered live recording. Then again, maybe those are my preconceived notions. If I'd gotten this recording without knowing anything about the recording technique, I might not have readily noticed. Or I might have noticed something, but been unable to really pinpoint what it was. I will say it's just a little on the bright side, a little wanting for warmth, for my taste. But that may be just me. In the end, it's a worthwhile recording, not least because of Masur and the Berliner Staatskapelle. And it's Bruckner's 7th. So ... The man has a catalog of stuff he recorded back in the day, FWIW. OCCD.org.

C.P.E. Bach Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment Cello Concertos A Major (Wq. 172), A Minor (Wq. 170) and B Flat Major (Wq. 171) I suppose I expected these three to sound broadly "the same." Pleasantly surprised that they really don't at all. Particularly with B Flat Major, there's an earnestness or tenderness that seems to set it apart. It's a more "serious" work, I think, than the first two. Anyways, old C.P.E. is due more listening on my part. I got the above 2-disc set mainly for the concertos, but I'm looking forward to the symphonies now.

Coming around to C.P.E. lately ... picked up a couple of broad stroke releases: Symphonies 1 through 5; Cello concertos A Major, A Minor, B Flat Major. Cello in A Major allegro assai is, I'd guess, immediately recognizable to even the casual listener. ... (Edit) well, can't figure out how to link to III movement, but I'll work on it. And ...

Perry So is a guest conductor invited specifically for this program, performed Friday, Saturday and Sunday. He is a Dudamel Fellow and, just scanning the notes, seems to get around -- everywhere from Cleveland to LA to Hong Kong and Shanghai. Young, energetic and all smiles, he looked to be having the time of his life. The music director and regular conductor here is Anu Tali, a young Estonian of some ambition. She also leads the Estonian-Finnish Orchestra, which she founded with her twin sister. And yes, the Sarasota Orchestra is fairly young, but not kids -- I'd guess median age is around late 30s, early 40s. It's a very capable outfit, but perhaps better led by Tali. I will say that since Tali got here a few years ago, she has invited guest conductors to appear regularly and I would suppose that is to everyone's benefit. A particular guest conductor may be more invested or expert in a given piece of music. The orchestra can't help but develop a sort of nimbleness by working with a variety of leaders. Etc. ... The house was packed, as it normally is, for this Sunday matinee. The music was satisfying, even great in parts. Thrilling, though, might be a stretch. I suppose part of my overall tepid reaction to the concert is due partly to the fact that I heard the Cleveland Orchestra perform Eroica last winter in Miami. That was special. Precise, forward-leaning, elevated, great. And Eroica was the piece I was primarily interested in listening to this afternoon. The other two pieces were frosting on the cake.

Jerry Bilik -- Symphony in M-L (world premiere) Sibelius -- Violin Concerto in D Minor, Op. 47 Beethoven -- Symphony No. 3 (Eroica) Perry So conducts the Sarasota Orchestra with Leila Josefowicz, violin Van Wezel Performing Arts Hall First concert of the season for me. Fourth row, center. The Bilik piece was a tribute to violinist Tibor Serly, described as Bela Bartok's most famous student (?). Serly was hit by a truck and killed in London on his way to receive some sort of honor from Hungary. Bilik studied with Serly at some point, then went on to ply his craft composing for stage productions, marching bands, TV shows and the like, as well as some modern 'classical' compositions. So this piece was meaningful to him and he revised it specifically for this performance. The three-movement symphony was written using some sort of variation of the 12-tone method developed by Serly. Alternating between jaunty and haunting in the first movement, veering toward Romantic in the second with some very nice strings, then thumping like menacing elephants in the last, the piece was certainly exuberant, engaging and exciting, with a kind of cinematic feel to it. I was left with the sense, however, that in the end the music was in service of the form, rather than the other way around. It was the first time I'd heard the Sibelius concerto. Sibelius, who failed in his own aspirations as a violinist, apparently composed this thing to be as technically difficult as possible, throwing in every hairpin turn he could come up with. Not really my thing, but Josefowizc let fly with some predictably impressive pyrotechnics. Didn't stop the 90-plus year old lady sitting next to me from nodding off on my shoulder. She was going in and out every 15 seconds or so. Couldn't decide if it was sweet, annoying or maybe I should signal for a doctor? The Beethoven was good, not great; satisfying not inspiring. They reconfigured things with the cellos and contrabass situated on the left rather than the right, violas and violins on either side, and they must have summoned every string player in town to the stage for this performance. Five rows of strings on the left, four on the right. Nothing but strings as far as the eye could see. So, they did create that rich, fill-up-every-nook-and-cranny string sound that can elevate this piece. The execution was workmanlike, I'd say. And given the immense number of the stings used, no wonder. For the most part, fine enough, it's just that the orchestra seemed more focused on staying together than really taking the music and making it soar, particularly in the first movement, which I love. The second movement came off much better, while the third seemed a little paint-by-numbers again. And then the fourth was somewhere in between. A few very minor horn flubs along the way had me wince slightly as well. Sitting so close, I may have missed some things going on with the woodwinds. During the obligatory standing O, while the conductor asked different sections of the orchestra to stand for recognition, there were big cheers for a couple of players in the woodwinds. Whatever was going on there, I missed it. All in all, a nice concert. Nothing outstanding, just good enough to make it worthwhile.

Enjoyed the chop suey, and the red shoes. Interesting fellow, Ng -- wise choice to abandon culvert projects in favor of rare music. There's an informative discussion of the improvisational flair of the instrument in the booklet with the "La Bella Minuta" disc above. And of course the regional preferences of the various music being written for it. Among the pieces Dickey selects are those by Venetian organist Giosoffo Guami (16th C.), chosen in part for their elaborate written out ornamentation in the soprano parts. The instrument was much celebrated in the 16th Century, with virtuosos among the highest paid musicians. And there was lots of music written for the instrument flying around. But it disappeared fairly quickly for reasons that seem murky and has only recently been revived.

Sounds pretty damn extraordinary. The concert hall experience can be moving, particularly when sitting near the front. (I just snagged a 5th row, center, ticket to my local orchestra performing Eroica in a couple of weeks. And I have third or fourth row center seats for the Vienna Philharmonic in the spring!). In my limited experience, I've found that if I am sitting close to the stage, the left side (when facing the stage) is better than right side because the cellos and basses face away from you when you sit on the right, and tend to get lost or overpowered by the violins -- in a typical setup anyway. Course as close to the center is best. General rule of thumb for me is the closer the seat is to the stage, the more toward the center it should be, and left is better than right. ... But I'd guess the quality of the concert hall, quality of the orchestra, etc., all factor in to that as well. You're in a concert hall that has a solid reputation and in front of a high-level orchestra. My local hall and band are a few notches below, although still perfectly fine. And I'm always in favor of including dogs in anything, as much as possible.

Yeah, I think you're onto something here. I sat next to a couple at a performance of Beethoven's No. 3 by the Cleveland Orchestra with Music Director Franz Welser-Möst on the baton last winter, and this couple shared that they knew someone who knew someone (their daughter knew someone in the orchestra) who said some of the veterans didn't like Welser-Most's heavy hand. Yet he is very highly regarded among patrons and his peers, I believe. I recall reading that when Welser-Most first came to the orchestra, there was a music critic at the Plain Dealer who was highly critical of him, hammering away at whatever deficiencies he saw in an endless drumbeat. He was eventually laid off by the newspaper. Or took early retirement. Or something like that. Agreed to disagree and part ways. But I got the sense he had allegiances to the old guard and/or was giving voice to internal discontent. And I think there was a certain amount of turnover in the orchestra in the wake of Welser-Most taking over. Not uncommon with new management, no matter what your profession.

Not familiar with Franck at all. Your comments had me looking around a bit, including a review of Thursday's concert by Scott Cantrell in the Dallas Morning News, who described the piece as the most Wagnerian of French symphonies. (That German-French fusion thing. I'm getting more interested now!) Cantrell didn't give it a lot of ink but seemed to agree there were some problems. A tricky piece, it seems.

Well listen, count me among the hoi polloi. That doesn't stop me from giving my impressions. And I think one of messages of this thread is that all views are/should be welcome. Jim didn't enjoy a performance by a group of musicians who are well-regarded by others and gave some reasons as to why that I found very insightful, not because they were properly and well-informed, but because they were personal and meaningful to him. That's more valuable, to me, than reciting the received wisdom on this or that recording/performer.

I've become interested in this instrument, used in Renaissance and Baroque musics. Made of wood and leather with a cup mouthpiece, it delivers a very pure, singing tone akin to a cornet, I suppose, but much more voice-like and with a sweeter, mellower overall sound. At the hands of a skilled player -- of which there are relatively few, apparently -- you can get some really dazzling displays of virtuosity. Anyways, I'm interested in finding some recordings where the instrument is featured. I've ordered several after previewing them at amazon and spotify but would like to explore further. Here's what I've come up with so far: Giovanni Gabrieli -- "Sonate e Canzoni / Concerto Paletino," which seems to be celebrated as much for the period organ that is used (in the Basilica of San Petronio in Bologna) as for the cornett here; "Quel Lascivissimo Cornett, Virtuoso Solo Music for Cornetto" (which, the title speaks for itself). The performer is Bruce Dickey, who seems to be well-regarded; And "La Bella Minuta" (also Dickey) It's a start, but information on recordings is a bit thin so I'm wondering if anyone has any recs worth exploring?

I have seen Mozart's music characterized in terms similar to the way Jim described it: that each note is the only perfect note that could possibly follow the previous one; that there's a certain inevitability to the music; or that you get a sense the music was always there and needed only the genius of Mozart to sort of open the door to reveal it to us, or (to put it more crudely) connect the dots for us. And if you accept this idea of perfection and inevitability in Mozart, then maybe Jim's aversion to it is perfectly reasonable, given the premise of this thread (that the concert he heard was played perfectly, but ... )

JSngry -- I wasn't thinking of your comments at all on the concert that you and your wife attended, which were sincere and well appreciated. My comments, and I assume Bev's, were more directed at Peter's observations about the sometimes extreme level of criticism elsewhere (amazon, etc.) of this or that recording / performance.

Agreed. I get the sense one proves his or her classical bonafides these days by leveling harsh judgments in the most severe terms whenever the opportunity presents itself. And I find myself thinking, what right does a listener have to attack a trained professional in such a way? Being the relative classical neophyte I am, I tend to try to take the music on its own terms. Preferences emerge over time, and criticism is always welcome, but the level of flat out vitriol directed at clearly talented and dedicated musicians tends to be absurd at times -- especially among certain cognizenti over at amazon. I like to peruse the negative reviews first, just to get a sense of the possible shortcomings in a recording. Things often devolve rapidly. Not sure if criticism of classical music has always been this way, or if this is just an outgrowth of the internet, where people feel free to level the harshest sort of criticism cloaked in relative anonymity.

That should be something! ... For me there's a general sense with Bruckner of always working toward some resolution but never quite getting there, as if walking some narrow cliffside path where you're not quite sure if you'll plummet into the canyon or arrive at that sweeping, open pasture you keep catching glimpses of along the way. He also plays around with volume quite a bit, luring you into leaning forward and cupping your ear, then hitting you broadside, full blast. Live, it should be an experience. Might want to have a glass of brandy on hand afterward to steady yourself. I think these tours can be real money-makers, once an orchestra has established a reputation -- and I'd guess Dallas is somewhere in that mix. Plus the more you put yourself out there, the more of a reputation you build. A friend of my dad's who is involved somehow with the Concert Association that brings orchestras here for one-off whistle stops says the cost can be sizable. I forget the exact amount they're paying the Cleveland Orchestra to perform here this winter, but I believe it's well into the low-six figures -- $200K maybe, for one performance -- plus food and lodging, etc., and probably the cost of flying them here, as well as the insurance, all covered. I'd guess it varies depending on the artists. I read recently Carnegie doesn't divulge what it pays performers so as not to create bidding wars among them. But the big boys get paid handsomely. Not a concert, but I went to a lunchtime performance outside my office the other day by two accomplished young graduates of the Perlman Music Program, an instructional thing he holds here every spring for young musicians from around the country/world. Violist Molly Carr and pianist Yannick Rafallimanana performed what they characterized as an extremely abridged version of Romeo and Juliet, but it was more like excerpts. Carr provided some commentary about the music prior to each number, which was nice. A nice, light, casual outdoor lunchtime performance. Enjoyed it.

This business of "wiggle room" -- it appears to be quite vast, actually, and the cognoscenti can be passionate in their criticisms of various "interpretations." Tempo, phrasing, vibrato, legato (Karajan); or more broadly, faithfulness to the score, the composer's intent, the "meaning" of the piece. If you go to a rehearsal you can get a sense of how much "wiggle room" there really is in a given piece of music, how much give and take there is with the score, among the musicians, how their own preferences, or the conductor's "vision" for a given piece, come into play. I love Celebidache precisely because he uses tempo to such dramatic effect -- in Bruckner, particularly. But where I hear an intense emotional involvement with the music, others find his often dramatically slower tempos distasteful, an assault on the score and a betrayal of the composer's intent. So, yeah, there's wiggle room. As for The Academy of St. Martin's, can't say. Don't know, but I'd guess that their reputation requires a certain standard of precision when they perform, not necessarily a depth of interpretation. That's fine, as far as it goes. Perhaps coming from a difference place -- for instance, if you were familiar with dozens of interpretations of the pieces that were performed -- you might have a different appreciation for the performance. It's a very personal thing, in the end.

Review in Opera News here. Generally pretty favorable, and the reviewer thinks it has legs -- Gotham Chamber Opera bringing it to the Apollo Theater next season.

^ Link didn't work for me. Maybe this?

As an aside, this was one of the pieces Muti and the CSO performed during my visit to Carnegie Hall earlier this year, sandwiched between Mendelssohn's Calm Sea and Prosperous Voyage overture and Scriabin's Third Symphony (the highlight of the evening, for me). I recall the entire concert as being excellent. Here's a link to a recording of the concert. It begins with the Mendelssohn -- not a long piece -- before La Mer.

No longer confused ...

I'm confused ....

Man, I am envious. Enjoy!

There's laughter, tears, audible gasps, sometimes even heckling (at La Scala). -- Actually, seems as though there's often heckling at La Scala, which appears to have devolved into some kind of weird self-parody. Although unkind to the performers, the singers surely know what they could be in for at La Scala, and in that spirit it would be kind of fun, in a touristy sort of way, to go experience it.s But if La Scala was the only option for seeing opera, I'd avoid it like the plague for the reputed unruly audiences. And there's the hard-core Wagner devotees who are constantly up in arms about the modern productions that have taken over Bayreuth and sullied Wagner's artistic purity. Much hand-wringing (and booing) about that. Nothing of the sort at The Met, I'm sure. Nor at other refined venues such as Glyndebourne, Vienna, ROH, etc., one would assume. Down here in my little opera house, nothing but good times. Audience reactions are part of the experience.