Outside Perspective

A Great and Terrible Beauty - Bethany Hensel

Is it really weird that one of the happiest times I've ever been at Heinz Hall watching the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra perform would be during a funeral mass?

The word, I believe, is called ironic.

See, I've been going to see the PSO perform since about...probably...the fourth grade. I graduated from high school almost seven years ago. You do the math. And yes, while there have been truly exceptional performances that I have had the privilege to go to, I must confess that Sunday's performance of Mozart's Requiem really was just a cut above the rest. Maybe it was because Manfred Honeck seemed particularly exuberant in his conducting. Maybe because Mark Rohr's and Robert Moir's program notes were so well-written, I felt like I was reading a great short-story. Maybe it was because of the Mendelssohn choir, the Saint Vincent Schola Gregoriana, or actor John Lithgow reading poetry works, bible verses, and historical letters by Mozart himself. I really couldn't narrow down why Sunday's performance was so exceptional. There was just a great energy in the air. People were genuinely excited to see this performance.

I arrived five minutes before two-thirty, and the front lobby was still packed with people all eager to get in. I was pleasantly surprised that this matinee, a matinee that I would have had pegged that only the older set would come to, was bursting with the seams with young twenty and thirty somethings. It was great. I loved it. My seat was perfection, no one reeked of perfume, and the entire afternoon was music to my ears. Sorry, I guess that last line was kind of corny.

Mozart, according to the brilliant program notes, never finished his Requiem mass. He wrote the Lacrimossa but did not write anything after that. (The Lacrimossa, by the way, is about ¾ of the composition.) Apparently, his pupil and friend Franz Xaver Sussmayr, finished the last of it. Another confession: if I was not told that Mozart never finished, I would not have known it by listening to the piece. There was no clear delineation in style or execution when Sussmayr took over. I thought the last half of the Mass was just as stunning as the first.

Now, without making this piece go on and on – I could talk about the concert for days, so many things excited me and was wonderful about it – I would like to say one last thing. Again, going back to the program notes, Mozart was commissioned to write the Requiem Mass as he was writing an opera for the coronation of Emperor Leopold II, rehearsing the Magic Flute, writing the Clarinet Concerto and tackling other pieces. As a writer, I can't even begin to wrap my head around the kind of brilliance and genius that it must have taken for Mozart to juggle all of those things. I can barely stand to work on more than two projects at once. To write a full scale opera, and rehearse another and do all the other things I mentioned...it's just baffling. And amazing. And a full reminder why Mozart's name has stood the test of time. The Requiem Mass was a thing of great and terrible beauty. I was equal parts entranced and absorbed and quite terrified of all the emotion that was packed within each note. Your heart races. Your head spins. This kind of music changes you, at least for the amount of time you listen to it.

A Funny Position - Bethany Hensel

Sunday's performance was as interesting as the titles of the pieces performed were as hard to pronounce.

Wait...did that sentence just make sense?

Apropos, considering the whole theme of Sunday's performance was riddles.  Say it with me folks: Zoroastrian Riddles, and sprach Zarathustra.  See?  It's hard, right? 

Anyway, I must say - though my friend would disagree - the best part of the night was Mozart's Violin Concerto.  (My friend liked Strauss' piece.)  Not only was the title easy to pronounce, but violinist Stefan Jackiw made it easy to listen to.  Just 24 years old, he has a mastery of the violin that is enviable.  I'm 25 and I can barely play a recorder.  But Mr. Jackiw was amazing.  I have a soft spot for violinist, my favorite being, of course, Joshua Bell.  Was Mr. Jackiw as good as Joshua?  Well, it's an unanswerable question at this point, at least for me.  After all, I was BARELY ALIVE when Joshua was 24, so I have no idea how he sounded back then.  It would be utterly unfair to compare a 24 year old against a 41 year old.  But I will say this, both men can make that violin sing. 

HOWEVER, did anyone notice the way Mr. Jackiw held his violin?  Was it just me (and my friend) or did he hold it kind of...angled...funny????

Hmmm, in the end, I suppose it doesn't matter.  When you can produce a sound as glorious as the one he produced, he could play it with his feet for all I care. 

Cautionary Tale (A rant) - Bethany Hensel

Saturday's performance was beautiful, hypnotic, and perfectly executed.  At least, according to my friend.

I cannot say the same thing. 

Want to know why????  Well, it wasn't because I wasn't there.  Oh no.  I was there.  Orchestra Left, Row L.  Seat 5.  I love the Orchestra Left.  Not extreme left, mind you.  Left Center.  

I digress.

Going back to the show, I was there, I was present, and I was very excited to see the performance.  I am a big fan of Mendelssohn's Violin Concerto, ever since I first heard Joshua Bell play it on his Mendelssohn Violin Concerto/Beethoven Symphony cd.  I couldn't wait to hear what the formidable Chee-Yun could do with it.  

And Dvorak and Mozart are two of my favorite composers.  To say I was excited about hearing a NEVER BEFORE PERFORMED symphony by Mozart was like saying World War Two was just a little "skirmish."

So what happened?  Why could I not enjoy the show, like my date did?  Very simply, it was the lady next to me. 

OH MY GOD.  Never before had I been so bombarded by a perfume.  It was so stunningly strong that I couldn't even tell if it smelled good or bad.  It permeated the air.  My eyes started watering, my nose started running.  The top of my mouth got very, very itchy. 

What's a girl to do but start sniffling.  Well, you'd think I had took out a sawed off shot gun and shot someone for all the STARES and DEATH GLARES I was getting, the most severe of which came from Perfume Lady herself!  She fidgeted in her seat, inching away from me as if I had the plague.  She tapped who I can only assume was her husband on the arm and whispered in his ear.  And yes, I knew they were talking about me.  

I got up to grab some toilet paper to use as a tissue.  I came back to my seat moments later and, eyes still watering, nose still running, I blow my nose.  

Well, I might as well have run naked through the Vatican.  

Embarrassment colored me red.  The show started minutes later, so I tried to coordinate my sniffing as best as I could with the music.  Basically, when it got loud, so did I.  Still, people heard me. I was so uncomfortable knowing that I was causing a scene and sitting so close to the stage that I couldn't even concentrate on what I was hearing.  The opening number was totally lost on me. 

Major La Poo, considering the opening number was the Mozart piece I really wanted to hear. 

Darn you lady with your perfume!  Darn you to heck!

Intermission finally comes.  Thinking I'm oh so clever, I suggest to my friend we move seats.  He agrees, bless his heart.  

And guess what?  It was like moving from the pan to the fire.  

People, please!  I know that you're going to the Symphony and I know that the Symphony is a very nice place that deserves your respect.  I wrote a rather large post on it several months ago, in fact.  One day, perhaps I'll post it.  Anyway, please remember though, that you are in an auditorium.  A beautifully decorated auditorium that still does not have any open windows or air vents.  (At least, none that I can see.)  Please remember that the quarters are close; you are sitting elbow to elbow with a row of strangers. 

And please, I beg of you, remember that a little bit of perfume goes a very long way.  And a lot of perfume just makes people sick.  

 

  

The Joy of Sextet - Bethany Hensel

Friday night was a night of six. But before I get to that, I must ask, Are there some instruments that are just more “attractive” than others? Instruments that just speak to you more than others? Now, I firmly believe the violin is the most sensuous of all the instruments.  The shape itself is a sensual one.  The curves, the dips, the valleys.  Feminine and beguiling, it's no wonder that some people consider it the "devil's instrument".  It's an instrument made for seduction.  

The flute, while lacking sexiness and sultriness, is an attractive, coquettish instrument.  (Or, to put it in US Weekly speak, the violin is the Angelina Jolie of instruments while the flute is the Jennifer Aniston.) There's something utterly charming about the flute.  It reminds me of fawns and meadows and spring time. 

The trumpet is all about dignity.  I don't know about you, but when I hear the trumpet, I think of Taps.  I think of military.  I think of America and the flag.  And I like that.   

The piano, just for the sheer fact of how fast and deft and coordinated a person must be to play the instrument, in and of itself is sexy.  All girls love fast fingers.  

As for the oboe, I know that it's not the first instrument that might come to mind when talking about sexy instruments, but it certainly speaks to me. It says, serpents and magic and hot streets and bold colors? Don't you think of places like Bangladesh and Sri Lanka and Morocco?  I do. So, the oboe holds a very special place in my heart.  

Lastly, and most surprisingly - especially to me, considering I never considered this instrument very sexy before or all that communicative - is the French horn.  I always liked the shape of it.  It's so intricate and elegant.  Admittedly, however, I never really noticed its sound.  Until last night.   

Ah, last night. Composer John William's was right.  The French horn “stirs memories of fearful things, of powerful things, of noble and beautiful things.” The French horn “stirs the blood.” It's an extremely wondrous instrument, and in the hands (and uh, mouth) of Principal Horn William Caballero, it almost is beyond description. He played the incredible Concerto for Horns and Orchestra by famed composer John Williams. Thomas Hong, the PSO Assistant Conductor was right. Said during the pre-concert talk, Hong warned the audience that while there doesn't seem to be much “finger movement” to play the piece, there is a whole lot of range. I can concur with that. There was a TON of it! Like I said, it was almost unbelievable how good the Concerto was without engaging in all sorts of hyperbole. Just...trust me. It is a shame that the Concerto has not been recorded. I feel bad for anyone who missed it. Then again, maybe the PSO will take the HUGE OVATION as a HUGE HINT and record it themselves!

Moving on...Six pieces were performed on Friday, all of them from famous American composers. The program opened with Aaron Copland's El Salon Mexico. Now, I don't like Mexican food, I don't like Mexican movies, I was completely prepared not to like Salon Mexico. I settled in my seat and was prepared to begin looping an episode of Friends in my head to pass the time when suddenly... Amazing. Amazing. I enjoyed every single beat and syllable of this number. Approximately eleven minutes long, it NEEDED to last an hour. It was festive and fun and so great I'm smiling as I type this, just remembering the darn piece. 

The second Copland piece, (the last song of the night) was Four Dance Episodes from Rodeo. I won't dwell too much on this piece because, well, frankly, it would be hard to boil down the 17 minute piece without including tons of adjectives that you might not believe. Oh okay, I'll throw out a few: spiraling, giddy, joyous. 

Finally, though I so enjoyed the Horn Concerto and the El Salon Mexico, the real pinnacle of the night for me was the ode to Samuel Barber. Three pieces performed consecutively – Overture to the School for Scandal; Adagio for Strings; and Madea's Meditation and Dance of Vengeance - I need to make a special point of giving a shout out to the Adagio for Strings. DOWNLOAD THIS. Download it immediately. If you like your songs bittersweet, full of longing, full of tragic love, then this song is for you. It began nice and slow, moved steadily along to a full, fantastic swell, then ebbed away, leaving the listener completely satisfied. 

Like I said....the joy of a good sextet.

One Person's Misfortune... - Bethany Hensel and Luther Shalk

is another person's gain.  Right?  Is that the expression?  Something like that.

Anyway, I have been sick on and off for the past MONTH.  I just can't shake whatever germs are festering inside me.  I'm a walking petri dish.  Stay away!!  (As an aside: I'm not dying or anything.  I don't have swine flu, thank God.  But I do have a nagging cough.  It's frustrating and annoying.  I'm sure it's even more frustrating and annoying to those within a five foot radious of me.)

I thought I'd be better by Saturday night's performance.  I was not.  Every three seconds...cough cough cough.  I wanted to go.  Trust me.  But...I just couldn't justify ruining everyone's night - and risk getting people sick.  A little bit of cold to me could spell pneumonia to someone else!  Plus, going to the symphony, of all places, when you're hacking a lung out is really just rude.  To the performers, the conductor, and the patrons.  I couldn't do it.  I couldn't go. 

BUT....my friend could!  I asked him nicely if he could tell me about his experience and what he thought of the show.  He did.  He actually went a step beyond, and took the time to write a pretty nice review himself!  So, without any more delay - cause really, how long can one person talk about petri dishes and coughing - I present Luther Shalk's review of Composing with Words!

******

The first piece, Moby Dick, by Peter Mennin, was a very enjoyable ten minutes of music. I don't think I've ever heard so much action or variety in mood, intensity, and sounds in such a short interval of time. The PSO's performance was crisp and intense, and the brass and percussion sections ably anchored the critical points of climax. Leonard Slatkin, the conductor, hardly glanced at his sheet music, but seemed rather to take his cue from the music, fluctuating in activity and emotion with the music. It was masterfully performed.
 
The second piece, A Woman's Life, was not as impressive to me. I hope I don't come across as narrow-minded, but the superposition of Maya Angelou's very informal poetry over symphonic music and operatic voice seemed artificial, incongruous, and even a little ridiculous. Granted, the music and the singing were impeccably performed, and the poetry itself is admirable, but they didn't mix well together, and my overall opinion of the piece was low.
 
The final piece was Sibelius' second symphony. The first thing I noticed was that Slatkin did not use music at all, an impressive feat considering the length of the symphony. Again, he didn't miss a beat, and he seemed to live with the music. The orchestra performed very well, as always. I loved the chord progressions and harmonies of the symphony, characteristics that have always set apart Sibelius' music in my mind. Some other notable features were some call-and-response measures in the strings early in the symphony and a very powerful ending to the fourth movement. I did find the middle of the symphony to be a little too quiet and slow, with whole minutes of not much going on. I got a little sleepy. Otherwise, I was very pleased with the piece.

And there you have it!  A bit technical, I admit.  It certainly lacks my flair and personality. But hey, nice effort.  The Russian judge gave it a seven! 

Easy Access/Easy Expectations - Bethany Hensel

I don’t think I need to go into how vastly popular Vivaldi’s Four Seasons is, do I?  We’ve probably all played a measure of it at some point during our lives – whether on a piano, fiddling around on a violin, or even blowing through the standard second grade issued, ever popular recorder.  We’ve whistled it, we’ve offered up some silly pun on the name.  A quick Google search of “Vivaldi’s Four Seasons” spits out about 1.13 million hits.  (Consider that Dvorak’s New World Symphony only spit back about 401,000 hits.)

The popularity of the tune is not a debate. 

 

So, let’s fast forward to last Saturday night’s performance of the aforementioned classic. 

Now, before we go on, if you want a very detailed, very concise, very first-hand experience about last Saturday night’s show, stop reading right…now.  I wasn’t there.  (Long story.)  But, let me assure you, I do have a point. 

 

Moving on…I wasn’t at the show last night, but several friends of mine went and very much enjoyed the performance.  It was a show that they could “understand”.  By “understanding”, I’m assuming they meant that they were familiar with what was going to happen next.  They didn’t get lost in all the key shifts and codas and every other thing.  They knew exactly what to expect, and therefore, didn’t feel like they were straining to keep up with the song, but rather, that they were moving right along with it.

 

I asked them to expound.  They did.  Listening to their opinions on the show, it wasn’t surprising to hear that they thought that Andres Cardenes was “amazing” or that the PSO as a whole was “awesome.”  It wasn’t surprising to hear that out of five friends, four of them liked the first movement of Spring the best.  Most people do.  I personally LOVE the third movement in Summer.  It’s gorgeous and fast and brilliant.  Anyway…I suppose what did surprise me about what my friends had to say was the only real reason they liked the Four Seasons concertos is because it was familiar.  Easily accessible.  As one friend lamented, classical music, to him, is like trying to sing along to a song when you don’t know all the lyrics.  You get lost, confused, and inevitably, frustrated.  (And yes, I am referring to you, Ms. Lady Gaga.  For crying out loud, ennunciate when you sing.)

 

A small part of me understood what he was saying.  Classical musical certainly doesn’t follow the verse, chorus, verse, chorus, bridge, chorus, chorus pattern that we’re all so used to.  Classical music unfurls rather than coils around it itself.  While there are always exceptions to this rule, most pieces, as composer Marvin Hamlisch once explained, travel.  They start at one point then fly to another.  Pop tunes kind of just remain in air.  But hey, I’m no composer, so perhaps I’m wrong about the structure of orchestral pieces.  Correct me if I’m wrong.  Tell me if this whole blog post is inaccurate.  I’m always open to learning.  Point is, my friends seemed to enjoy the concert, actually sought out tickets for this show and not any other this season so far, because they knew what to expect.

 

So…expectations.  Is that the key to get people into the music halls?  Play only what they’re familiar with?  Play only Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony, or Ravel’s Bolero?  To me, that’s not really the solution.  I think people just need to find a way in.  They need to be able to feel like they can access such a vast and enormous thing. 

 

I think the PSO has it right: a world-class symphony needs to play those classics of the classical canon, but also play the lesser known gems.  They need to cater to the newly inducted, but also delightfully surprise the seasoned.  The PSO is superb at finding that balance.  And they are superb at really making even the roughest of diamonds shine. 

 

To sum up: my friends enjoyed the concert on Saturday.  Out of five of them, three want to definitely go back.  See?  Looks like they just needed to have that easy access.  :) 

A La Carte - Bethany Hensel

I have two queries, both seemingly random but definitely related to each other.  Okay, here goes:

Does anyone ever notice how the more European the conductor, the more seemingly large and grand and flamboyant his conducting is?  I mean, compare Yan Pascal Tortelier to Marvin Hamlisch and you'll see my point.

Second question: does anyone ever wonder why there is a metal bar going across the back of the small podium the conductor stands on?  I have a theory, and it involves large and grand and flamboyant conducting and wondering how many conductors have fallen off that podium before someone realized to put up a little bar across the back.

And you know what, here's another thing.  Does anyone notice how the soles of every conductor's shoes, even though they are black, turn red the moment they step up on that little podium?

I'm sorry for all the questions, but these questions amuse me, and I'm just in such a good mood, I can't help it.  Can you blame me though?  After a summer without the symphony - my soul food - I finally, finally, finally got a great big helping of it!

And not just any helping.  Thursday's performance was not the usual feast the Symphony offers.  There were no distinct courses, no soup and appetizer and dinner.  Thursday's performance was actually like an a la carte of desserts - the best in the city.  Tasty morsels and delicious bits of composition, beautifully prepare dand wonderfully presented, that hit every sweet tooth I had.  

The program was a preview of the 2009-2010 season, including works by Mozart and Prokofiev, Strauss and Brahms - the last a violin concerto played with gorgeous ease and finesse by PSO violinist, Ms. Chen-Livingston.

And conductor Lawrence Lo, red-soled shoes and all, was an absolute pleasure to watch.  He so clearly enjoys what he does.  He's charming to the audience, he's attentive to his orchestra.  I had the great opportunity to see him conduct the PSO chamber orchestra several months ago, and he was just as much a delight then as now. 

It really was an amazing night, and I'm so glad that I was invited to come back as a PSO blogger.  You never really forget how amazing the symphony truly is - just like you never forget the taste of your sweet sixteenth birthday cake - but the memories get hazy, they grow dim.  You forget the smell of hte Hall. But seeing the symphony on Thursday, it was like a fountain had been replenished.  Everything came into crystal clear focus, and all the reasons why the PSO is so successful came back into perfect recall.

The 2009-2010 season is ready to go, and if the dessert tray was any indication, the season should be a sweet one.  

A Standing Ovation! - Bethany Hensel

Wow, it felt so good being back at the Symphony!!  And to be welcomed back by such a program!

It began with Beethoven's dramatic, beautiful Egmont Overture.  I had never heard this piece before - actually, I had never even heard of it, period! - but man, am I so glad I got to hear it live on Friday.  It was my second favorite piece of the entire night!  The PSO was in excellent form and didn't once let the music overwhelm them.  The Overture was sumptuous, and it would have, in lesser hands, been easy to get lost in.  

The second piece of the night was Mozart's Symphony No. 38 "Prague".  Written in the city it was named for, Symphony No. 3 was very pretty, very classic, but, after following such a powerful piece as the Overture, seemed almost...light.  To me, it had no real sense of urgency or steam behind it, and as a person who gravitates more towards music with a bunch of drama to it, I wasn't overly excited about "Prague".  It was an amazing piece, don't get me wrong, but just not for me.  

Now, my absolute favorite moment of the night was after intermission, when violinist Frank Peter Zimmermann came to the stage and, with the PSO, magnificently performed Beethoven's Violin Concerto.  Funnily enough, my absolute favorite violinst, Joshua Bell, recorded this piece some odd years ago, and it was inevitable that I began to compare the pieces and how the two men interpreted such a war horse.  

Both men attacked it with vigor, both men played passionately, but whereas Joshua Bell wrote his own cadenza, Frank Peter Zimmermann stayed with the score through and through and really showed it off.  The third movement was especially stunning, if only due to the intense speed at which Zimmermann was playing.  What a performance!

By far, my favorite part of the night.  :)

However, I must say that a close second -tying with the Beethoven Overture - was the encore Mr. Zimmermann played after the Concerto.  It was incredibly fun and very impressive.  If he ever decides to record that coquettish little tune, I'll definitely buy it!

*Contented sigh.  What a marvelous way to come back to the Symphony.

Chamber Orchestra :) - Bethany Hensel

So I'll be honest and admit something that shames me: Up until recently - and I'm talking about just last Sunday - I didn't know what a chamber orchestra was.  I mean, I knew kind of what it  was, but I didn't know any specifics.  I knew a chamber orchestra was smaller than a regular orchestra, but that's it.  

Electrifying! - Bethany Hensel

I invited two friends of mine to Sunday's performance of the John Adam's piece, Dharma at Big Sur.  Amazingly enough (at least to me), Steve and Brandon had never been to Heinz Hall before, or a Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra concert.  Wow.  Anyway...

The show was, as all the bloggers seem to attest to, electrifying.  (Hence the title of this post.)  I am not sure what I personally was more impressed with: the fact that one man could write something so exceptional, or that one woman, Leila Josefowicz, could play the violin (electric or not) so well. 

Well, let's face it, they were both brilliant.