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| Thelonious Monk |
In one of the last classes our teacher was featuring Thelonious Monk, and told the story of a knowledgeable fellow who approached the innovative pianist after a concert and said something to the effect of
"Mr Monk, you're playing the wrong notes on the piano."
Monk paused for a second, then replied
"But there are no wrong notes on the piano."
Ba-da-bing!
So what does this have to do with the Greenville Symphony (GSO)? Very little, as is often the case with my blog posts. Almost as soon as I begin writing, I digress. BUT, I may be able to link this one to the most recent concert at the GSO, an all-Mozart concert in the Chamber Orchestra Series, which I had the pleasure of attending last weekend. It was nicely balanced, with an overture and a symphony in the first part, and an overture and a symphony in the second. More about all of it in a bit, but the overture that opened part two was from The Abduction from the Seraglio.
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| Opening night announcement of the Abduction in Vienna |
In the Chamber Series, Maestro Tchivzhel is less formal than in the Masterworks Series, in that he turns to the audience and in a chatty and usually witty way talks a bit about the piece that is about to be played. Tchivzhel, and this is mirrored in the Program Notes by Dr Joella Utley, that it was after the premiere of this opera, in Vienna, that Emperor Josef II, a great supporter of the arts, approached Mozart. The first night had gone well, filled with applause, but the emperor had a frown on his face and said to the composer something to this effect, according to an early biographer
"Too many notes, Mr Mozart."
Mozart replied incredulously, "What?"
"You have simply written too many notes," repeated the emperor.
Mozart paused for a second, then replied
"Exactly the necessary number, your Majesty."
Ba-da-bing again!
If you're one of those geeks that remember everything from the film, the words are slightly different there (while the film is good, you should have seen the play with, in New York, Ian McKellen as Salieri - brilliant), but when I was reminded by the conductor and the program notes of this exchange between Mozart and the Emperor, after only a week before heard the story about Monk, well, it was as if all were in sync. How many musicians, particularly such as innovators like Monk and Mozart, have found themselves in similar circumstances, confronted by a know-nothing and critiqued by him.
Oh, dear, it just occurred to me that I too am a bit of a know-nothing myself (though I'm trying to learn, I promise), and am about to critique a concert, or two or three, of classical music. Ah well, you're stuck with me, unless/until you stop reading.
But, to the concert. The Magic Flute is a favorite opera of mine, in fact I own the DVD of the Ingmar Bergman directed film (again, wonderful) of the great work at Stockholm's Drottningholm Theatre, and just purchased another DVD of a production designed by David Hockney, I believe for the Glyndebourne Festival. I must confess that I bought it to see the design rather than to hear the music, though of course as one implies the other, I look forward to tasting both visual and aural delights when I get the time to view it.
In fact it was the GSO concert's version of its overture that prompted me to do so. I used to teach Theatre History (brilliantly, I might add - and it seems I just did) and used a video of the end of the brilliant and energetic overture in the above production to demonstrate how design can complement music (or text or what have you). The whole overture is visually aided by Hockney's designs of different settings within the opera, and as the music gains in majesty so does the design gain in size and splendor, ending in a spectacular dazzle. I never watched the full opera and am curious to see how designs were used throughout and not just in the overture.
From spectacular to, well, not-so-spectacular on the part of the GSO. I have made this complaint so often that you must be getting sick of it, as am I, but as it keeps on occurring I will repeat that strings and winds are often overpowered by brass, and that is what I heard at the concert. Did others? Who knows? Who cares? Especially when one hears a piece of music that one really loves played in an unbalanced manner, one's disappointment grows.
The good news is that in the other three selections, beginning with Symphony No 40 the balance seemed to improve. I sensed some imbalance in that symphony and alas one or two unfortunate flubs from the horn section, but all in all the orchestra preformed admirably. And it seemed that the intermission gave the group new vigor, as the overture to the Abduction was played very well, and with the use of clang-y and unique "Turkish" touches. And Symphony No 38, aka The Prague Symphony (which I think along with 36 - The Linz, are my favorites of Mozart's 41). sounded to my (tin?) ears JUST right. During No 40 I found my attention wandering. Not so during No 38. So the concert ended excellently.
Except that that was not quite the end. The orchestra played a surprise "encore" introduced by Tchivzhel, as he does annually, as a quiz (or in his great accent KVEEEEEZ). The winner of the quiz wins two tickets to any symphony concert, including the one they do at Christmas which is not on the subscription.
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| You know him, yes? You MUST! But just in case hs initials are WAM |
Sidebar on Bach: I am reading (and highly recommend) a wonderful biography of the master called Bach and the Castle of Heaven by a renowned musician, John Eliot Gardiner. JSB was taken to task again and again, though no one ever put it exactly as "wrong" or "too many notes" by officials of town or church for whom he worked, other composers, even by some of his own students, so he is definitely be included the above mentioned list of musicians told off by dodos.
Oh, dear, it just occurred to me that I too am a bit of a know-nothing myself (though I'm trying to learn, I promise), and am about to critique a concert, or two or three, of classical music. Ah well, you're stuck with me, unless/until you stop reading.
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| Bergman;s Magic Flute - entrance of th eQueen of the Night filmed in the 18th century Drottningholm Theatre |
But, to the concert. The Magic Flute is a favorite opera of mine, in fact I own the DVD of the Ingmar Bergman directed film (again, wonderful) of the great work at Stockholm's Drottningholm Theatre, and just purchased another DVD of a production designed by David Hockney, I believe for the Glyndebourne Festival. I must confess that I bought it to see the design rather than to hear the music, though of course as one implies the other, I look forward to tasting both visual and aural delights when I get the time to view it.
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| Scene from the Magic Flute featuring Hockney's designs |
In fact it was the GSO concert's version of its overture that prompted me to do so. I used to teach Theatre History (brilliantly, I might add - and it seems I just did) and used a video of the end of the brilliant and energetic overture in the above production to demonstrate how design can complement music (or text or what have you). The whole overture is visually aided by Hockney's designs of different settings within the opera, and as the music gains in majesty so does the design gain in size and splendor, ending in a spectacular dazzle. I never watched the full opera and am curious to see how designs were used throughout and not just in the overture.
From spectacular to, well, not-so-spectacular on the part of the GSO. I have made this complaint so often that you must be getting sick of it, as am I, but as it keeps on occurring I will repeat that strings and winds are often overpowered by brass, and that is what I heard at the concert. Did others? Who knows? Who cares? Especially when one hears a piece of music that one really loves played in an unbalanced manner, one's disappointment grows.
The good news is that in the other three selections, beginning with Symphony No 40 the balance seemed to improve. I sensed some imbalance in that symphony and alas one or two unfortunate flubs from the horn section, but all in all the orchestra preformed admirably. And it seemed that the intermission gave the group new vigor, as the overture to the Abduction was played very well, and with the use of clang-y and unique "Turkish" touches. And Symphony No 38, aka The Prague Symphony (which I think along with 36 - The Linz, are my favorites of Mozart's 41). sounded to my (tin?) ears JUST right. During No 40 I found my attention wandering. Not so during No 38. So the concert ended excellently.
Except that that was not quite the end. The orchestra played a surprise "encore" introduced by Tchivzhel, as he does annually, as a quiz (or in his great accent KVEEEEEZ). The winner of the quiz wins two tickets to any symphony concert, including the one they do at Christmas which is not on the subscription.
So small a sidebar that I shall call it an aside: Dottore Gianni loathes concerts at which too much "pop" is played, and ones in which songs, carols in this case are sung along by the audience, so we/I have never been to a GSO Christnas concert, and probably never will.
Tchivzhel has the winner come down to the podium to receive the voucher. In this case it was an old fellow with an almost Santa Claus sort of beard, who had difficulty walking, so rather than being festive it seemed to me almost embarrassing that he was forced to do so, But he made it without incident, and the end of the surprise (oh! it was Strauss's Overture to Die Fledermaus, which is a good one and well played), which is always a repeat of the last bars of said surprise, was greeted with even more applause and another standing ovation - did I tell you that there is never NOT a standing ovation at the end of a GSO concert? Ugh! Is it a conspiracy?
As for me, I use the standing ovation as a "walking" ovation, particularly in the Chamber Series, for which I have a seat only one away from the aisle. I slipped by the rather rotund woman at my right, apologized to the usher ("nature calls, sorry!") and was the first one out of the theatre and to my car. This done not only because I am not a fan of drawn out endings but also so that I can get home in time for cocktails - which I did!
I want to comment briefly on two of three other GSO concerts that made up the Fall 2015 portion of the 2015-16 season. Why only two of three? I was out of the country during the first, too bad in a way, as I like a lot of Maurice Ravel's work - his Piano Concerto in G major was the first work performed - and I LOVE much of Rachmaninoff's - his Symphony No 2 was the other work in the concert. I must confess that while I was planning the trip from which I returned to the US on 7 October I reminded myself that I should check the concert schedule, and then I promptly forgot, ordered my flight and hotels and realized too late that I would be missing the first in my subscription.
Not the end of the world. A chance to see Europe vs one symphony concert? No contest, though I DID arrange my trip in fall of 2014 so that I could see Yo-Yo Ma play at the GSO. Of course I had never seen him live before, he is exceptional, and so I made an exception. Late September is a wonderful time in much of Europe, and except in the case of someone as impressive as Yo-Yo Ma I will probably miss more opening concerts, in coming seasons.
The second concert was another in the Chamber Series, their annual Oktoberfest, in which German composers are featured, and after which free beer is served in the lobby. This year's program began and ended with Brahms with Beethoven in between. The first Brahms offered was his 2nd Piano Concerto, with David Gross, a local professor (at Furman U, but from Germany, and a frequent soloist not only at the GSO but with many other mostly regional, mostly US orchestras. I had seen him twice before and was quite impressed, saying to Dottore Gianni after the first concert, "Wow! Students studying piano at Furman are VERY lucky. This time around he seemed slightly less sure of himself, and the orchestra was not at its best. I enjoy Brahms, though he's not a favorite of mine, so I'll merely say that it was...fine...but not great.
During intermission the orchestra seemed to have got a boost, as the two musical offerings were better played. Beethoven's Symphony No 1 hearkens back and owes much to Mozart and Haydn, but also begins to break ground that in later work Beethoven would thoroughly dig up. Well done! Maestro Tchivzhel saved the fireworks for the last - another Brahms, this time his Academic Festival Overture. If you listen to classical music at all and think you don't know this, you are more than likely wrong, at very least "Gaudeamus Igitur" featured at the end of the work, should be familiar. It is a very old college drinking song, and Brahms riffs (riffs???can old bearded Brahms be said to riff? Dottore Gianni disagrees with me, but I think he DOES in this case) on three others as well during the course of the overture. Why? Well he wrote is as a sort of unwritten duty when he received an honorary degree from the University in Breslau, Germany. According to the program notes (corroborated by further on-line research by the good doctor and myself) Brahms hated pomposity and considered a ceremony awarding an honorary degree as very pompous indeed. So his "overture" - which neither is an overture, nor does it make an overtures (ba-da-bing!). Instead it's an occasional piece which lightly mocked academia by featuring, in Brahms's own words "a very boisterous potpourri of student songs." No matter what I think of his music - and this piece is a rouser (rousingly performed) - having learned more about what Brahms was playing at, I think the better of him!
Now a few words about the the concert presented only a week or so before the all-Mozart event. Hmmmm...better begin with a:
Sidebar, or as I think I'm going to start calling "sidebars" from now on, Aside (much more theatrical I think) on contemporary composers. I have very little interest for them or tolerance in listening to their music. Interestingly I very much enjoy modern and (most) contemporary art, but I find music from the same time frame unpleasant. I suppose I'm just a "tonal" troglodyte and I'm not ashamed of it. As once I used to try to listen to Miles Davis as he was veering from anything I could call jazz into fusion and beyond - and one day stopped; so did/do with "important" modern and contemporary music. There are rare exceptions and I'm delighted when I come upon them, but I wash my hands of most of them/much of it.
That "aside" (the term formerly known as "sidebar") is vital to the next bit of commentary. The concert I attended on 8 November,
labeled somewhat curiously, if not indecipherably, "Legends, Mysteries, Miracles," was one of the least interesting, and certainly one of the very least pleasing in my years of subscribing to the GSO. The first two pieces were composed by men younger than I. Michael Daugherty exerted much energy composing a work he calls the "Metropolis Symphony," based on the tale (legend? mystery? miracle?) of Superman. If that doesn't strike you as a bit of a joke, you can stop reading now, and buy a recording of said music. Our
Maestro chose two movements from it, one called "Lex" for Lex Luthor, one of Superman's arch-enemies, the other "Red Cape Tango" which depicts as the program notes call it "fight-to-the-death" between our superhero and another archenemy about whom I know nothing (even after hearing the music) Doomsday. The first is noisy and razzle-dazzle and mostly cacophonous, meant I suppose to define Metropolis (NYC) in general and Luthor in particular. I have no more to say about it except that I counted the minutes until it ended. The second was filled with ominous passages meant to depict I suppose a villain who was a match (or more than a match?) for Superman, gloomy and doom-y, almost funereal in tone. It was somewhat more sonorous than "Lex" but no less irritating to me and my ears.
In fact I admit that during this music (and I use the term loosely, from my benighted POV) poor Dottore Gianni threw up his hands and walked out! Though that is much easier for him to accomplish than it would be for me.
The second composer, Christopher Theofanidis, chose a subject more interesting to me, in that it in some way or another called
upon the music of Hildegard von Bingen (which I adore), and also the Zen Buddhist concept of "Rainbow Body." I am not familiar with that term, but the program describes it the physical death of an "enlightened" being, and its return to the universe as energy, in the form of light. The music, though more melodious than that in the first work, gave me NO indication or hint of either. On a recent trip to Germany I went on a mission to Bingen, on the Rhine, to get a better sense of Hildegard. I got lost and failed. So did Theofanidis, in his figurative mission to evoke her. I suppose this music represents the "Mysteries" of the concert's title. Fine.
Finally, what I had been waiting for! Sleeping Beauty, a dramatic composition based on Tchaikovsky's lovely ballet, cobbled together by Tchivzhel himself. The orchestra played it well (as by the way, it had the first two pieces - I imagine that musicians get a sort of thrill by attacking work with which they are unfamiliar. Perhaps I should as well, but it is more a chore for me than a joy) but I found it over-long and not nearly as interesting or lovely as I'd hoped.
Finally and very briefly, a note on an adventurous concert in the Spotlight Series, so called as it focuses that bright light on the brightest lights in the orchestra. These concerts are always interesting, though for me at times the odd combination of
instruments and the quality of the compositions are a bit much. I chose to see this particular Spotlight because it featured a Double Concerto in C minor by Bach, which I learned from the intro by the bright and well-spoken oboist, Virginia Metzger, was chosen as a companion to the second piece, of which more anon. It was well, if not brilliantly accomplished. My less than rave assessment is due in part to the bass, added to the ensemble in order to complement the harpsichord (per Ms Metzger). As the music unfolded I found myself more and more listening for the
harpsichord as opposed to the piece as a whole. Except for two
instances (instants?) I could hear nothing, though the young woman seemed to be playing her heart out. My conclusion is that instead of
complementing the harpsichord, the bass drowned it out, which is a pity. The second work was composed by Heitor Villa-Lobos,
Bachianas Brasileiras No 6 for flute and bassoon. I liked the combination of instruments and their talented players. While it reminded me more of Brazil than of Bach I found it quite appealing. The last composition was by Erno Dohnanyi, a composer unknown to me (but what else is new?), his sextet for Violin,Viola, Cello, Clarinet, Horn and Piano. This I enjoyed too, though at times the combination of instruments struck me as strange and slightly jarring. I think I liked it as much as I did because the young woman who had played the harpsichord (noiselessly) in the Bach, shone on the piano in this sextet. While it is an ensemble piece, she stood out for me, possibly because of the quality of music, more likely as I could hear her this time around!
The Spotlights are short but sweet. I had planned that this post be as well, but as usual I got carried away! Hope you enjoyed it, or at least some of it, anyway.
I want to comment briefly on two of three other GSO concerts that made up the Fall 2015 portion of the 2015-16 season. Why only two of three? I was out of the country during the first, too bad in a way, as I like a lot of Maurice Ravel's work - his Piano Concerto in G major was the first work performed - and I LOVE much of Rachmaninoff's - his Symphony No 2 was the other work in the concert. I must confess that while I was planning the trip from which I returned to the US on 7 October I reminded myself that I should check the concert schedule, and then I promptly forgot, ordered my flight and hotels and realized too late that I would be missing the first in my subscription.
Not the end of the world. A chance to see Europe vs one symphony concert? No contest, though I DID arrange my trip in fall of 2014 so that I could see Yo-Yo Ma play at the GSO. Of course I had never seen him live before, he is exceptional, and so I made an exception. Late September is a wonderful time in much of Europe, and except in the case of someone as impressive as Yo-Yo Ma I will probably miss more opening concerts, in coming seasons.
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| Brahms |
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| No ID required (i HOPE!) |
During intermission the orchestra seemed to have got a boost, as the two musical offerings were better played. Beethoven's Symphony No 1 hearkens back and owes much to Mozart and Haydn, but also begins to break ground that in later work Beethoven would thoroughly dig up. Well done! Maestro Tchivzhel saved the fireworks for the last - another Brahms, this time his Academic Festival Overture. If you listen to classical music at all and think you don't know this, you are more than likely wrong, at very least "Gaudeamus Igitur" featured at the end of the work, should be familiar. It is a very old college drinking song, and Brahms riffs (riffs???can old bearded Brahms be said to riff? Dottore Gianni disagrees with me, but I think he DOES in this case) on three others as well during the course of the overture. Why? Well he wrote is as a sort of unwritten duty when he received an honorary degree from the University in Breslau, Germany. According to the program notes (corroborated by further on-line research by the good doctor and myself) Brahms hated pomposity and considered a ceremony awarding an honorary degree as very pompous indeed. So his "overture" - which neither is an overture, nor does it make an overtures (ba-da-bing!). Instead it's an occasional piece which lightly mocked academia by featuring, in Brahms's own words "a very boisterous potpourri of student songs." No matter what I think of his music - and this piece is a rouser (rousingly performed) - having learned more about what Brahms was playing at, I think the better of him!
Now a few words about the the concert presented only a week or so before the all-Mozart event. Hmmmm...better begin with a:
Sidebar, or as I think I'm going to start calling "sidebars" from now on, Aside (much more theatrical I think) on contemporary composers. I have very little interest for them or tolerance in listening to their music. Interestingly I very much enjoy modern and (most) contemporary art, but I find music from the same time frame unpleasant. I suppose I'm just a "tonal" troglodyte and I'm not ashamed of it. As once I used to try to listen to Miles Davis as he was veering from anything I could call jazz into fusion and beyond - and one day stopped; so did/do with "important" modern and contemporary music. There are rare exceptions and I'm delighted when I come upon them, but I wash my hands of most of them/much of it.
That "aside" (the term formerly known as "sidebar") is vital to the next bit of commentary. The concert I attended on 8 November,
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| Michael Dougherty |
In fact I admit that during this music (and I use the term loosely, from my benighted POV) poor Dottore Gianni threw up his hands and walked out! Though that is much easier for him to accomplish than it would be for me.
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| Christopher Theofanidis |
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| Holy Hildergard |
Finally, what I had been waiting for! Sleeping Beauty, a dramatic composition based on Tchaikovsky's lovely ballet, cobbled together by Tchivzhel himself. The orchestra played it well (as by the way, it had the first two pieces - I imagine that musicians get a sort of thrill by attacking work with which they are unfamiliar. Perhaps I should as well, but it is more a chore for me than a joy) but I found it over-long and not nearly as interesting or lovely as I'd hoped.
Finally and very briefly, a note on an adventurous concert in the Spotlight Series, so called as it focuses that bright light on the brightest lights in the orchestra. These concerts are always interesting, though for me at times the odd combination of
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| If you don't know who this is I'm not even going to tell you it's Bach |
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| Villa-Lobos |
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| Erno Dohnanyi |
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