Outside Perspective

Barbarians at the Gate: The Orchestra vs. The Audience - Justin Kownacki

At last night's superlative PSO performance, in which conductor Yan Pascal Tortelier's magnificent orchestration of Ravel's Trio made its Pittsburgh debut, I learned a lot about the way an orchestration is created.  But I also discovered some of the barriers that classical music faces if it expects to find a toehold among modern audiences -- and one of those barriers is the audience itself.

Tortelier has been constructing this orchestration since the 1980s, which means he's spent at least two decades translating a work intended for three instruments into a piece that can be performed by a full orchestra.  As such, he's solved a lot of problems along the way, and so he spent about 15 minutes before the performance explaining some of his decisions to the audience.  These anecdotes came complete with examples (played by the orchestra), often consisting of a few measures of Ravel's original work, immediately followed by Tortelier's full translation, so the audience could understand how the two works coexist.

Personally, I found this experience to be quite illuminating.  Tortelier offered a brief history of Ravel's original work, included notes on its various themes and the cultural significance of certain musical aspects, and then explained how and why he converted Ravel's relatively simple and elegant solutions into something far more complex.

However, while leaving Heinz Hall at the end of the night, I overheard another trio -- two older gentlemen and a woman, walking a few paces behind me -- complaining about Tortelier's explanation.  It wasn't that they disagreed with his choices; it's that they resented him explaining it at all.

"I felt like I was back in gradeschool," said one of the men.  "But I liked it when they finally played it."

Considering that Tortelier is essentially one of the world's authorities on Ravel, it's possible that the audience might have been flattered that they were getting a valued peek into the man's creative process.  Instead, they just wanted him to shut up and play.  And that insular attitude is, in my opinion, the greatest hurdle classical music has to clear if it expects to include anyone under the age of 40 in its audience: it has to be open to new ideas -- and that includes reaching out to audiences who AREN'T classical music experts.

In addition, I detected a lot of upset clucking and shaking of heads from the older audience members in my section whenever any younger -- or perhaps "less cultured" -- audience members would clap during the breaks between movements of Grieg's Piano Concerto.  The issue of WHEN it's acceptable to applaud during a PSO performance has been discussed before, but evidently any diversion from the accepted norm will send some members of the audience into a hand-wringing fury.

And so, I wonder: if nothing about the orchestra ever changes, and the experience remains static from generation to generation, how long would it take for the size of the audience to dwindle to a point where the PSO could no longer operate?  Fortunately, the wiser heads behind the scenes at the PSO are too savvy to let that happen.  But every time they make modernizing concessions to non-native classical music listeners, they run the risk of upsetting their longtime constituents.

So how will classical music -- and the PSO in particular -- find a way to keep both old and new fans happily engaged?

From the Steelers to Montero - Jennifer Pizzuto

Ah, Gershwin. You make me want to put on my Sunday clothes and audition for local theater.  Gershwin’s pieces are so unmistakable and unique—when it’s Gershwin that you’re listening to, you know it.  The music is infectious and sprightly, usually a tangy little mix of flair and lighthearted joy.  It is energy in musical form; it made my heart sing, as only the symphony and Gershwin can.  Gabriela Montero and the symphony complemented each other brilliantly.

 

Montero’s musical arsenal was loaded with magic on Saturday night.  The sage little pianist learned—quickly—that the surest way to Pittsburgh’s heart is through its Super Bowl-bound Steelers.  Montero dazzled Saturday’s audience with an inspiring, impromptu rendition of “Here We Go Steelers.”  Montero’s version was a far cry from the way I usually listen to it—slightly muffled by black and gold fuzzy earmuffs and a beer haze so thick, it requires a sledge hammer to crack it.

That she was able to pluck out the melody after listening to the audience “sing” it speaks to Montero’s extraordinary talent.  From the simple “Here We Go” tune, Montero waved her magic wand and created a lavishly eloquent musical work of art; it truly would have made even the toughest of Steeler fans wipe his eye with the sacred Terrible Towel. 

 

And the surprises kept coming…Montero, and three other PSO musicians, performed “Air and Simple Gifts” from the presidential inauguration.  It was extremely moving.  The music signified the history that our country had witnessed this past week.  No matter which side of aisle one might reside, the experience brought back the historic inauguration with vitality and flair.  Saturday’s performance truly encapsulated the ubiquitous excitement of political change and Super Bowl fever.

 

The improv was such a unique treat…I enjoyed every minute of the performance.  I can’t wait to see what the symphony has in store for forthcoming performances…

Rhapsody in "Blues" - Bethany Hensel

It's been forever since I was at the symphony last.  In between getting sick, family stuff, personal obligations, and just crappy  weather, I've missed several shows and have really really been feeling the void. 

The saying is quite true: absence makes the heart grow fonder.

So when I got the invitation to see Rhapsody in Blue, featuring solo pianist Gabriella Montero - and KDKA gave the thumbs up sign that the weather would be spectacular - I jumped at the chance to go. 

And as the orchestra launched into the first moment of Barber's Symphony No. 1, it felt like I was coming back home.  I immediately sunk into my seat, relaxed and content.  It was great to be back in th Hall, whilst a master piece was being performed right in front of me. 

But, here's when it got a bit...disappointing for me...where the "blue" comes in from the title of this post.  I didn't like the Rhapsody in Blue number.  Now, let me just say that the following in no way reflects on the talent and prowess of the PSO or the soloist, Gabriella Montero.  Quite to the contrary!  It was only because of they're showmanship that I was able to even sit through it at all.  You see, I HATE jazz.  Loathe the very sight and sound of anything to do with jazz.  I can't tell you why; I've no idea where such passionate antogonism comes from for jazz.  I just really really really don't like it. 

The only reason I mention it at all is to prove the point that in the hands of people who really know what they're doing, anything can be made, if not downright beautiful, exceptionally tolerable.  There was a moment, nearing the end of the 15 minute piece, that I was actually beginning to enjoy it.   It got very lyrical and "full" to me. 

For the jazz lovers out there, you will absolute LOVE Rhapsody in blue.  For the non-jazz lovers, you will find it pleasurable to listen to, but it really won't make you swoon.  If you want to swoon, stay for the second half of the program, Mendelsshon's Symphony No. 5.

Now THAT is a score!  Felix Mendelssohn can basically do no wrong.  He's prolific.  I fell in love with his Concerto in E Minor for Violin and Orchestra, and ever since then, have devourd his work.  It's great stuff, and has withstood the test of time. 

And Andres Cardenes was absolutely flawless in stepping into the role of conductor from first violin.  He wasn't as uh, energetic as some of the European conductors, but he was perfectly poised and passionate and was a joy to watch. 

all in all, my welcome back to the Hall and the PSO was a great one. :) 

Except for the jazz (delicate shudder)

American composers and a new day - Louis Luangkesorn

This weekend's concert featured Gabriela Montero, fresh off a little Washington DC performance of Air and Simple Gifts in a small venue of 2 million people and a worldwide TV audience. It promised to be something interesting.

Bookended by Berber and Mendelson, Ms. Montero played Rhapsody in Blue by Gershwin and the live performance premiere of Air and Simple Gifts by John Williams.  Rhapsody in Blue is probably best known for being played in commercials. Air and Simple Gifts, for its place in the recent 2009 U.S. Presidential Inauguration. For both, Ms. Montero made hearing these pieces live a treat. If your concept of Rhapsody in Blue is the driving theme of a TV commercial, the PSO performance presented many sides to the theme. From the hard driving we're used to hearing, to a light dancing on piano, to strings and horns playing off each other, and winds taking the theme exposed on their own. There is even room for a banjo. And listening to a piano improvise her parts is a treat, especially when someone like Ms. Montero, whose a skilled improvisationist, is the one on stage.

Air and Simple Gifts is also transformed in a live performance. While on TV watching the inauguration it sounded like a straight copy of the Copland Appalachian Spring, live shows many more layers that seem like mere rumbling on the televised version. You can hear the counterpoint in the strings as clarinet and piano take on the main Simple Gifts theme. The piano part becomes an integral weave throughout the piece instead of a murmur under the strings and wind.

I was amused at the program's description of George Gershwin in relation to his contemporary classical composers. It describes Gershwin as a jazz composer dabbling in classical composition. Certainly he is better known for his jazz and folk-style music, along with his many musicals. But this description also fits another composer, who is better known for writing music that is played in a popular culture setting, whose tunes also embed themselves in popular consciousness, setting the theme for a work, or even an event. John Williams, composer for film, and Presidential inaugurals. The comparison is greater when one looks at the criticisms of the piece in various newspapers (not about the playing, but the piece itself). Similar to Gershwin, John Williams is best known for writing music for a popular setting, in his case movie music. His music sticks and conjures up strong images in your mind. What images do I here in Air and Simple Gifts? There is a quiet beginning of a new day, then waking up for the work to do with the Appalachian Spring theme with the clarinet. And the rest of the piece giving that sense that there is much work to be done by all, good work, but lots of it. And for this piece, at this time, that sounds about right.

A concert with modern American pieces just fits this week, with an inauguration just behind us. And it seemed to show the contrast between a brasher, more cocky America of the not-too-distant past, and one that has many challenges ahead in a new day. It made for a worthy performance. Of course, there was the also timely improvisational encore at the end of the first half, when Ms. Montero took requests for a theme to play off of. And what followed was many spirited variations on 'Here we go Steelers, here we go!' Very timely indeed.

Rhapsody in "Blues" - Bethany Hensel

It's been forever since I was at the symphony last.  In between getting sick, family stuff, personal obligations, and just crappy  weather, I've missed several shows and have really really been feeling the void. 

The saying is quite true: absence makes the heart grow fonder.

So when I got the invitation to see Rhapsody in Blue, featuring solo pianist Gabriella Montero - and KDKA gave the thumbs up sign that the weather would be spectacular - I jumped at the chance to go. 

And as the orchestra launched into the first moment of Barber's Symphony No. 1, it felt like I was coming back home.  I immediately sunk into my seat, relaxed and content.  It was great to be back in th Hall, whilst a masterpiece was being performed right in front of me. 

But, here's when it got a bit...disappointing for me...where the "blue" comes in from the title of this post.  I didn't like the Rhapsody in Blue number.  Now, let me just say that the following in no way reflects on the talent and prowess of the PSO or the soloist, Gabriella Montero.  Quite to the contrary!  It was only because of they're showmanship that I was able to even sit through it at all.  You see, I HATE jazz.  Loathe the very sight and sound of anything to do with jazz.  I can't tell you why; I've no idea where such passionate antogonism comes from for jazz.  I just really really really don't like it. 

The only reason I mention it at all is to prove the point that in the hands of people who really know what they're doing, anything can be made, if not downright beautiful, exceptionally tolerable.  There was a moment, nearing the end of the 15 minute piece, that I was actually beginning to enjoy it.   It got very lyrical and "full" to me. 

For the jazz lovers out there, you will absolute LOVE Rhapsody in Blue.  For the non-jazz lovers, you will find it pleasurable to listen to, but it really won't make you swoon.  If you want to swoon, stay for the second half of the program, Mendelsshon's Symphony No. 5.

Now THAT is a score!  Felix Mendelssohn can basically do no wrong.  He's prolific.  I fell in love with his Concerto in E Minor for Violin and Orchestra, and ever since then, have devourd his work.  It's great stuff, and has withstood the test of time. 

And Andres Cardenes was absolutely flawless in stepping into the role of conductor from first violin.  He wasn't as uh, energetic as some of the European conductors, but he was perfectly poised and passionate and was a joy to watch. 

all in all, my welcome back to the Hall and the PSO was a great one. :) 

Except for the jazz (delicate shudder)

feeling blue for Rhapsody in Blue - Laura Miller

Rhapsody in Blue.  It's my Dad's and my song.  It's one of the first real piano pieces I learned when I was a teenager.  It reminds me of my Nana.  I sort of feel like it's mine.  It's the concert I wanted to see this season no.matter.what.  I talked about it at work all week to anyone who would listen.  ("I'm going to hear Gabriela Montero play on Friday night.  She was the pianist at Obama's inauguration!  Isn't the cool?"  My student aides feigned excitement.)

I did not want to miss it. 

However.

It is with great sadness that I announce that I never made it to the symphony last night.  Despite leaving Shadyside at 7:10 p.m., Pittsburgh city traffic did not allow me to make it to downtown until 7:45 p.m.  I dropped my boyfriend Ross off in front of Heinz Hall so he could get our tickets from Will Call.  Traffic was insane. Bumber-to-bumper everywhere I looked.  But, I said a prayer to my guardian angel and proceeded, inch by inch, towards the parking garage.

And then, no parking.  Anywhere.  I got a little snippy with the gentleman standing outside of the parking garage by Heinz Hall.  His "Prepaid Parking Tickets and Leases Only" sign only added to my already stressed out demeanor.  "Is it going to be like this every weekend?  Because I almost missed an event a few weeks ago because of the same thing."  His response?  "Only when there are four shows and a Steelers rally, Miss."

Grrr.

At 7:53 p.m. I called Ross on his cell phone.  "Forget it," I said. "There's no way I'm going to be able to get through this traffic and down to the garage by the Benedum, if there even IS a parking spot there," before everything starts.  And I do not want to arrive after the first piece.  Please have them release our tickets at Will Call.  I'll swing around and pick you up in a few minutes."

My heart? Broken.  Disappointment is part of life, I realize this.  But this one hit a little harder than I'd expected.  Music is so, so important to me.  Especially certain pieces.  My dad and I have this really special bond over some of those pieces.  And I wanted so badly to feel his presence at the concert Friday night, to call him Saturday to tell him how amazing it was, how I thought of him, and how much Nana would have loved it if she'd still been alive to sit there in the audience too.  Music is that powerful.  That important.  That meaningful.  Sure, there's another performance of it Sunday, but with my graduate coursework being so heavy this semester, I can't afford to give up an entire afternoon.

Luckily, Ross was sweet enough to propose what we like to call a "Choice B"--another option in the event that things go wrong, disappointments occur, or things don't happen the way we'd hoped.  Our "Choice B" eventually put a smile on my face: drinks with three of our closest friends at one of our favorite places in Shadyside.  I was, I admit, a little pouty for the first hour after we left downtown, but I realized that there was still a silver lining: music never goes away.  Rhapsody in Blue will always be Rhapsody in Blue.  That piece, whether I hear it on WQED, live at Heinz Hall, or on my iTunes, will always be there for me.  

Next time we'll just take the bus.

~Laura 

rhapsody - Elizabeth Perry

Context. Three days after the inauguration of Barack Obama. The Steelers are headed for the Superbowl. The city is giddy with gratitude and anticipation, hope and delight.

And in this environment the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra offers a breathtaking performance of Samuel Barber's first symphony. And then Gabriela Montero plays Rhapsody in Blue. And then, with the audience suggestion repeated and supported by the musicians onstage (bass section, I'm looking at you...), Montero yields to our wish and improvises incredibly on the theme, "Here we go, Steelers - here we go." The shouts and standing ovations delay intermission for a few minutes. And then we return from intermission to the surprise performance of John Williams's quartet, "Air and Simple Gifts." Montero had only just played this at the inauguration, yet we can feel that it's already part of the American canon, part of our shared history. We conclude with Mendelssohn's Reformation symphony.

O.k., so that's just a list. A series of pieces. You've read it on the website or seen it in the paper.  What I'm failing to express here is how context and content, circumstance and performance, came together to form a whole. Reflection. Tears.  Pride. Humor. Passion.  So much emotion was so close to the surface for us to begin with, and then the musicians built it, shaped it, and made simple feeling take complex flight.   

This is only possible in a particular moment, a particular place, and why I love live performance.  I'm grateful to have been there.

What a treat! Montero at the PSO - Doug Bauman

Tonight, I enjoyed so many facets of the concert at the PSO, its hard to do them all justice. The works performed were all wonderful, and some were new to me, including Barber Symphony No. 1 and Mendelssohn Symphony No. 5 (actually he composed this symphony as the second in the sequence, but it was labeled as 5), both wonderful works in their own right, yet not played very often on the classical stations.

It was Gabriela Montero who stole the show. Her playing in the Rhapsody in Blue was a unique experience. The jazz and tempo were all her own. But the real treat was right after the Gershwin composition. Ms. Montero asked the audience what kind of improvisation she could do, what particular song, perhaps something from Pittsburgh, she could take and turn into an impromptu rendition for just this occasion. No need to wonder, the mass of the audience chanted 'Here we go', yes, the Steeler song (if you are not from Pittsburgh, realize that the Pittsburgh Steelers are going to the Super bowl next week). And there she went, playing a magnificent composition with the Steeler chant interwoven beautifully, some classical Baroque, and finally ending with a rhythmic mamba. The audience irrupted with the most sudden applause I have ever heard. I was a sight to behold, a sound never to be forgotten.

After intermission we were again surprised: Ms. Montero and three other PSO musicians formed a quartet and performed John Williams' "Air and Simple Gifts" which was originally played a few days ago at the presidential inauguration. It was a beautiful piece, obviously based on a theme of Copland.

Afterward, there was a post concert chat with Jim Cunningham and Ms. Montero.

Question: "What is your favorite piece to play"

Montero: "There are many, right now I'm really into concertos. I'm playing Rachmaninoff 3, that's one of my all time favorite pieces to play. I'm also playing Brahms No. 1 in Vienna, which I absolutely adore. I'm very fond of Brahms, Schumann, Bach, Beethoven, Rachmaninoff. Rachmaninoff I die, it's very romantic."

Check back for another post on the chat. Again, my head is still spinning, all I can do is again reiterate: what a treat, and it was standing room only.

Obama, Rhetoric and the American Opera - Justin Kownacki

Last weekend, I attended the PSO's performance of excerpts from John Adams' opera "Nixon in China," followed by his symphonic adaptation of another opera -- also his own -- "Doctor Atomic."  Although I enjoyed the entire performance, I found myself far more satisfied by the symphony than the opera.  I chalk this up to a potentially simplistic but nonetheless legitimate artistic stumbling block: the English language.

Simply put, I'm not yet convinced that English -- and, specifically, American -- translates gracefully to the structure required of an opera's dialogue.  American English follows a far different rhythm (and relies on far fewer syllables) than the European languages in which most operas I'm familiar with have been written.  Thus, the American language must be shoehorned into the format of an opera, which then has the unintended consequence of making profound statements seem comedic and dramatic moments contrived, due simply to the arrangement and delivery of the syllables.

Conversely, the symphony drawn from "Doctor Atomic" is free to rely solely upon the music to convey the emotion of the story -- in this case, the tortured conscience of atomic bomb craftsman Dr. Robert Oppenheimer.  Adams was on hand to explain how he translated the words of his opera into music, and even showed a film clip of the opera's (masterfully sung) denoument.  And yet, when compared to the eloquence of the instrumental variation, I have to say that Adams did himself no disservice by transposing his lyrics into the mouth of a trumpet.

So what does this mean for the American language?  Is it unable to achieve the lofty emotional highs of the classic romantic languages, or of music?  I think anyone who witnessed Barack Obama's inaugural address today would disagree with that suggestion.  Words, like instruments, are simply tools in the hands (and mouths) of the player or the speaker; it's the human being delivering those sounds to our ears who's charged with the responsibility of conveying the meaning and emotion of the moment.  (This is the same reason I wonder how cultures with tonal languages convey irony, when every fluctuation in one's speech creates not a distinction of intent but a completely new word or phrase.)

Another issue fueling my uncertainty about Adams' work may stem from the personae involved.  Richard Nixon was no Barack Obama, either emblematically or linguistically, and while "Nixon in China" may take a complicated look back at a politically-charged epoch in world history, it still asks that the audience consider Nixon as a hero (or villain) worthy of operatic enshrinement, with his "guy-next-door" vocabulary and all.  In fact, if the entire purpose of Adams' exercise is to showcase the absurdity of such a concept, then "Nixon in China" succeeds implicitly.

Still, how long before we're asked to consider George W. Bush a folk hero worthy of lyric immortality?  Or Barack Obama, for that matter?  While building a bomb capable of obliterating humanity is an action whose inherent drama could survive translation to an opera or a cave painting, I'm not so sure that the economic and bureaucratic challenges surrounding our current figureheads will hold up to similar historic scrutiny.

But if anyone should someday try, perhaps they'll do it in Italian.

John Williams - "Air and Simple Gifts" this weekend at the PSO - Doug Bauman

Anyone going to the inauguration today? I wrote my senators and congressman, and requested a ticket. They wrote back that unfortunately there were too many people requesting, and that I would not be afforded a free ticket (free tickets for constituents are a custom if they are available).

Well here is a chance for anyone in Pittsburgh, or traveling to our lucky city this weekend, to 'feel' like you are at the inauguration.  Attend a concert at Heinz Hall this weekend, sit back, listen to the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra and our guest artist perform the new work composed by John Williams specifically for the inauguration, close your eyes, and pretend you are at the inauguration. Or, better yet, pretend you are at warm and cozy Heinz Hall, because that's a lot more comfortable than the National Mall at 30 degrees Fahrenheit today.  I'll be at Heinz Hall this weekend, I've had my ticket since last August, and now I hear the pleasant surprise. These are the details that were just sent to me:

On to this weekend's performances featuring Gabriela Montero performing "Rhapsody in Blue". The concerts will be conducted by our own Concertmaster Andrés Cárdenes, and also feature Barber's Symphony No. 1 and Mendelssohn's "Reformation" Symphony. After the performance of "Rhapsody in Blue", Miss Montero will also do some improvisation based on suggestions from the audience.

One very interesting addition to the concerts this weekend: tomorrow, Gabriela Montero will be playing as part of a brief musical performance between the swearings-in of the Vice President and the President. The piece is a new, short work for violin, cello, clarinet, and piano composed specially for the occasion by John Williams and is called "Air and Simple Gifts". The other performers at the inauguration will be Itzhak Perlman (violin), Yo Yo Ma (cello), and Anthony McGill (clarinet). Shortly after the event, Miss Montero will get on a flight for Pittsburgh.

Here's the exciting part: John Williams has granted us permission to perform the piece with Miss Montero and our players during our concerts this weekend. So we will be adding "Air and Simple Gifts" to the program this weekend. The performers with Miss Montero will be Concertmaster Andrés Cárdenes, Associate Principal Cello David Premo, and Principal Clarinet Michael Rusinek.