Or in Omaha. Thinking about Milhaud again, and about narrative. Discovering a story in Le Boeuf sur le Toit. It is a ballet after all, let's visualize it...
...the party is in full swing even as the piece begins. This is a work with what I call "pre-history," like Brahms 1, it seems to have been going on for some time before we enter into it. Other works such works include Sibelius 2 and Dvorak 7, as opposed to definitive "Here we go!" beginnings such as Schumann 3 and Beethoven 3. Something to consider as we talk about other works.
Back to Rio. ..ah-h-h! With the first bar we open the door onto a street fair, carnival passing by. Over the next 16 minutes, we meet different partygoers, couples, families; a parade of revelers each with their own stories. I see women with big headdresses, shakin' it! Some kids playing hide and seek, a lover's quarrel, the occasional monkey and exotic bird...there is a cab now trying to break through the line. Is that the mayor stopping by, with a trumpet fanfare (before K)? Not that anyone much cares. I see a grouchy old dude, complaining about the noise, he mercifully nods off after L, and at M, guitars strum and the parade continues. A child falling asleep exhausted (the 3/8 "lullaby"); Mom is saying,"let's keep going, but sh-h-h, don't wake him up!" A sinuous, seductive 1st violin line (after V), very romantic and a little agitato (you'd be agitato too, if you had to play that lick in A-flat minor and B Major), then a conga line (after W). After X, we revisit some of the characters from early on in the piece, maybe heading home; already the sun is coming up around Y, some vendors setting up their stalls, whistling (Z, note the violin harmonics!). I see the sun coming up as carnival continues...
Is it the "right" story? Doesn't need to be this one. What's yours?
Gotta have one, otherwise it is all beats and traffic, 4's and 8's, majors and minors. Taking delight in sound and story is not just our job, it is our delight. Certainly was one of the secrets to Lenny's magic. So I'm going to channel my inner Bernstein, sip my caipirinha, loosen up my hips, let go of my beat and take in the local color. You coming along?
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Bar 11 - ready or not...
I had been hoping to do my first rehearsal in Omaha tomorrow from memory, but that doesn't need to happen. When I think about it, conducting from memory is like throwing strikeouts - impressive and effective perhaps, but a little self-centered. I don't need to set myself up as über-Maestro; I just need to execute the way I know how. Communicate through gesture, listen with intensity, rehearse with joy.
Earlier today I wrote a long essay on orchestral protocols, including greeting the orchestra, the concertmaster, the mechanics of stopping an orchestra, what to say and what not to say. That may appear at a later time. Tonight I just want to concentrate on trusting the score, my study of it, and on the orchestra. And gratitude, friends. Being thankful for the opportunity to make great music with a fine orchestra, and then to get paid for the privilege.
On that note, I must get back to Mozart and Milhaud; there are still some details I need to review. Buona sera a tutti.
Earlier today I wrote a long essay on orchestral protocols, including greeting the orchestra, the concertmaster, the mechanics of stopping an orchestra, what to say and what not to say. That may appear at a later time. Tonight I just want to concentrate on trusting the score, my study of it, and on the orchestra. And gratitude, friends. Being thankful for the opportunity to make great music with a fine orchestra, and then to get paid for the privilege.
On that note, I must get back to Mozart and Milhaud; there are still some details I need to review. Buona sera a tutti.
Monday, September 27, 2010
Bar 10 - "Why I love Beethoven"
No, friends, today's epistle is not about loving Beethoven (don't we all!), but it is about sharing our love of music with our public. Specifically, we need to talk about public speaking.
I recall decades ago observing Leonard Slatkin speaking to the audience from the stage before conducting the Minnesota Orchestra in concert. I felt at the time that it was cheesy and inappropriate; that the music should speak for itself and for Maestro to address the audience - unless his name started with the letter "Bernstein" - was simply grandstanding. Harrumph!
It turns out that it isn't grandstanding, if it is done with genuine care, knowledge and understanding of one's public and subject. I speak at almost all CCM Philharmonia concerts; I plan on speaking next weekend when I appear with the Omaha Symphony, if for no other reason than to express my gratitude. Thomas Wilkins, the gifted music director of that fine ensemble, is one of the most compelling speakers I have ever met. His persona off the podium is overwhelming; positive, energetic, enthusiastic, inviting. While I have not heard him speak from the podium, I can only imagine how his audience would be drawn in by his presence and how their appreciation of the concert would be enhanced. I don't know if what Thomas possesses can be taught; I do know that, at least in the States, it is becoming increasingly necessary to acquire those skills as best we can. It doesn't substitute for excellence in conducting, but it is part of the what the conductor needs today to be the music director of most American orchestras.
Music - classical music - is no longer a quotidian aspect of our society, as it still is in many parts of Europe and as it was for many here a century ago, when the United States was blessed with an influx of Europeans accustomed to attending concerts. Gone is the era when a knowledgeable public, attired in jacket and tie, dresses and heels, joined together weekly to hear an orchestra or a soloist. Musical literacy in America has been in decline for some time now; attention spans are dwindling, as is the appreciation of the communal concert experience. While a sudden jump in interest in and comprehension of serious music would be lovely, none of us anticipate it occurring any time soon. As I remarked in another venue a few days ago, "...it will never be what it was, and if we don't evolve and change NOW, we will be left and lost in the dust."
Programming is certainly part of that change, as is how we present concerts. So is speaking, sharing pertinent, timely thoughts with the audience. At CCM, I try to focus on points of reference; what is the unifying factor behind a program? What non-musical element can the audience relate to that will inform and enhance their concert experience? When is a story or a personal anecdote appropriate? How technical should the talk be? How long should one speak?
All of these concerns need to be addressed beforehand. I used to script my remarks; now I consider for some days before what to talk about and try not to refer to notes when speaking. Yes, I rehearse my talks; nothing worse than random "...er...um...ah...hmm..." I never start a concert with talk; we always play some music before I welcome the audience, thank them for sharing their time with us and relate something of import about the music. I don't always speak after the opening work, particularly if it is followed by a concerto. If the meat of the program is on the second half, I will often address the public after intermission. I don't speak before a choral work, or before a gala. If there is only one work on a concert (Mahler 2, for example), I don't speak.
At CCM, because we perform in a relatively small (750 seat) hall, I will occasionally ask our audience a question and try to elicit a response. No hiding at our concerts! I have asked our public to name five works of Chabrier other than España, where a certain tune comes from, what painter may have influenced a composer we were featuring. Concert going can no longer be a passive experience; we must engage and be engaging, apart from the flailing away on the podium which too many mistake for real conducting. We must find a way to share without compromising artistic values or the general level of taste and decorum appropriate for a concert hall. It isn't about making concert going "fun," it is about making the concert compelling and welcoming.
It is this balance - indeed, this frisson - that challenges us as conductors and music directors. How to be engaging but serious, inviting but not ostentatious, personable while keeping the focus on the music. Like anything else it requires PRACTICE. And BRAVERY. And JOY.
So, do you know of five works of Chabrier other than España? Great composer, highly underrated.
I recall decades ago observing Leonard Slatkin speaking to the audience from the stage before conducting the Minnesota Orchestra in concert. I felt at the time that it was cheesy and inappropriate; that the music should speak for itself and for Maestro to address the audience - unless his name started with the letter "Bernstein" - was simply grandstanding. Harrumph!
It turns out that it isn't grandstanding, if it is done with genuine care, knowledge and understanding of one's public and subject. I speak at almost all CCM Philharmonia concerts; I plan on speaking next weekend when I appear with the Omaha Symphony, if for no other reason than to express my gratitude. Thomas Wilkins, the gifted music director of that fine ensemble, is one of the most compelling speakers I have ever met. His persona off the podium is overwhelming; positive, energetic, enthusiastic, inviting. While I have not heard him speak from the podium, I can only imagine how his audience would be drawn in by his presence and how their appreciation of the concert would be enhanced. I don't know if what Thomas possesses can be taught; I do know that, at least in the States, it is becoming increasingly necessary to acquire those skills as best we can. It doesn't substitute for excellence in conducting, but it is part of the what the conductor needs today to be the music director of most American orchestras.
Music - classical music - is no longer a quotidian aspect of our society, as it still is in many parts of Europe and as it was for many here a century ago, when the United States was blessed with an influx of Europeans accustomed to attending concerts. Gone is the era when a knowledgeable public, attired in jacket and tie, dresses and heels, joined together weekly to hear an orchestra or a soloist. Musical literacy in America has been in decline for some time now; attention spans are dwindling, as is the appreciation of the communal concert experience. While a sudden jump in interest in and comprehension of serious music would be lovely, none of us anticipate it occurring any time soon. As I remarked in another venue a few days ago, "...it will never be what it was, and if we don't evolve and change NOW, we will be left and lost in the dust."
Programming is certainly part of that change, as is how we present concerts. So is speaking, sharing pertinent, timely thoughts with the audience. At CCM, I try to focus on points of reference; what is the unifying factor behind a program? What non-musical element can the audience relate to that will inform and enhance their concert experience? When is a story or a personal anecdote appropriate? How technical should the talk be? How long should one speak?
All of these concerns need to be addressed beforehand. I used to script my remarks; now I consider for some days before what to talk about and try not to refer to notes when speaking. Yes, I rehearse my talks; nothing worse than random "...er...um...ah...hmm..." I never start a concert with talk; we always play some music before I welcome the audience, thank them for sharing their time with us and relate something of import about the music. I don't always speak after the opening work, particularly if it is followed by a concerto. If the meat of the program is on the second half, I will often address the public after intermission. I don't speak before a choral work, or before a gala. If there is only one work on a concert (Mahler 2, for example), I don't speak.
At CCM, because we perform in a relatively small (750 seat) hall, I will occasionally ask our audience a question and try to elicit a response. No hiding at our concerts! I have asked our public to name five works of Chabrier other than España, where a certain tune comes from, what painter may have influenced a composer we were featuring. Concert going can no longer be a passive experience; we must engage and be engaging, apart from the flailing away on the podium which too many mistake for real conducting. We must find a way to share without compromising artistic values or the general level of taste and decorum appropriate for a concert hall. It isn't about making concert going "fun," it is about making the concert compelling and welcoming.
It is this balance - indeed, this frisson - that challenges us as conductors and music directors. How to be engaging but serious, inviting but not ostentatious, personable while keeping the focus on the music. Like anything else it requires PRACTICE. And BRAVERY. And JOY.
So, do you know of five works of Chabrier other than España? Great composer, highly underrated.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Bar 9 - "What do you love about conducting, Maestro?"
"Why did you start conducting, Maestro?""Well, Bob, I just LOVE to beat! I'd do it all day if I could. Beating, that's why I got into it; that's what turns me on about conducting. That and the money."
"What else do you like about conducting?"
"Well, Bob, when I am not beating, I really like to talk to the orchestra, you know, explain things."
"Like what, Maestro?"
"I like to tell them how great a piece is, and how much Beethoven has meant to me personally. Then I especially like to tell them when something sounds really bad. And then I like to have them do a passage over and over again. With my beat. Did I tell you, Bob, how much I like to beat?"
Back to work!
"What else do you like about conducting?"
"Well, Bob, when I am not beating, I really like to talk to the orchestra, you know, explain things."
"Like what, Maestro?"
"I like to tell them how great a piece is, and how much Beethoven has meant to me personally. Then I especially like to tell them when something sounds really bad. And then I like to have them do a passage over and over again. With my beat. Did I tell you, Bob, how much I like to beat?"
Back to work!
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Bar 8 - Mozart 29, 1st movement
A half-hour of perfection. Here, on the table in front of me. The language Mozart employs is so subtle, what he has to say is so winning, the use of chromaticism timely and telling. Going through it, I observe the following in the first movement, just a sample of its riches:
There is no articulation on the opening quarter notes. It is a given that they are short. I would inflect the chromatic 1/2 step rise in the bass line (bars 3 and 5) with a little dynamic nudge.
b. 8 - short quarters on the downbeat in 2nds, va, and bass line; bring out eighth note scale in va.
b. 12 - crescendo into f, or subito f in 13?
b. 13 - are both quarters of the octave f? Or is the lower octave played less loud?
b. 23 - no accent on downbeat (strings tend to slug the last note of the 16th-note passage like this)
In general, downbeat quarter note chords in winds I execute as 8ths.
b. 27-8 - cresc or no? Great rising bass line! Casals said, when the music goes up, we get louder. Does this approach still apply in 2010? Note parallel passage at b. 133-4.
b. 33 on - do you go to the 2nd bar of the phrase, or is the 1st bar the strong one?
b. 38, 40 - love the viola echo!
b. 44 - brush, short, long?
b. 51 - note the low B in 1sts, unison w. cello; a tremendous gesture, a little vorspeise of Haffner...
b. 58 - pick up the viola on the 4th quarter after the fp in the other strings, great!
b. 61 - echo?
b. 79 - note that the motive for development is not the opening motive (which is atypical of Mozart as a "tune", but the transitional scale passage from b. 9.
b. 89 - inflect/articulate after the downbeat, please.
b. 90 - dim. into p, or subito?
b. 92 - the upbeats in this passage should be short and separated. In my experience, violins need to pay attention (to the part, not to me/you!) to execute this precisely
b. 99 - brief dominant stretto into the recapitulation - crescendo into 103?
b. 107 to 132 - exact repeat. Isn't score study easy?
b. 133-4 - I love how he manipulates the bass line here, simple and to the point. First he descends (contrary to the rising line in the exposition, then the sudden turn upward. I'd probably bring this out.
b. 135-7 - Appreciate the dovetailing between the 2nds and 1sts (same in expo)
From here until the coda, the writing is virtually identical to the expo, albeit in the tonic now. The disposition of the wind chords starting at b. 151 is different, but (in my view) not structurally crucial.
b. 163-4 - Now this should be compared against 57-8.
b. 176 - While the unison violin writing matches the expo, the 2nds are (for Mozart) unusually high. For reference, how often to they rise above the staff in the rest of the symphony? Never. In fact, in the 4th movement, b. 155 and on, he won't even let the 2nds take the high C-sharp (which would have been in line with the parallel passage at b. 52). Am SO TEMPTED to let the 2nds play this up...
b. 189 forward - Follow the canon through 1sts, bass line, horns and violas. Will make a great effect.
b. 195-6 The last gasp of chromaticism in this movement. Ride the subsequent descending parallel 6 chords to glory! Don't forget that the 8ths from b. 201 are structural; this is a little bit of a surprise, as their function changed from the start of the movement, from transitional passagework to the building block of the development and now to the meat of the coda. I'd give shape to all of the rising 4-note scales.
b. 205-6 - Please execute this last two bars with care. No diminuendo, but no accent on the last downbeat either.
This is just a sample of the decisions I make and the interactions I have with any score. To a certain degree, this is the fun part of conducting for me; because the beating of the movement is not too challenging. Let a great orchestra play, adjust as needed. And remember, the less secure you are with the score, the more and bigger you will beat. Study thoroughly, and your beat will stop here, too.
There is no articulation on the opening quarter notes. It is a given that they are short. I would inflect the chromatic 1/2 step rise in the bass line (bars 3 and 5) with a little dynamic nudge.
b. 8 - short quarters on the downbeat in 2nds, va, and bass line; bring out eighth note scale in va.
b. 12 - crescendo into f, or subito f in 13?
b. 13 - are both quarters of the octave f? Or is the lower octave played less loud?
b. 23 - no accent on downbeat (strings tend to slug the last note of the 16th-note passage like this)
In general, downbeat quarter note chords in winds I execute as 8ths.
b. 27-8 - cresc or no? Great rising bass line! Casals said, when the music goes up, we get louder. Does this approach still apply in 2010? Note parallel passage at b. 133-4.
b. 33 on - do you go to the 2nd bar of the phrase, or is the 1st bar the strong one?
b. 38, 40 - love the viola echo!
b. 44 - brush, short, long?
b. 51 - note the low B in 1sts, unison w. cello; a tremendous gesture, a little vorspeise of Haffner...
b. 58 - pick up the viola on the 4th quarter after the fp in the other strings, great!
b. 61 - echo?
b. 79 - note that the motive for development is not the opening motive (which is atypical of Mozart as a "tune", but the transitional scale passage from b. 9.
b. 89 - inflect/articulate after the downbeat, please.
b. 90 - dim. into p, or subito?
b. 92 - the upbeats in this passage should be short and separated. In my experience, violins need to pay attention (to the part, not to me/you!) to execute this precisely
b. 99 - brief dominant stretto into the recapitulation - crescendo into 103?
b. 107 to 132 - exact repeat. Isn't score study easy?
b. 133-4 - I love how he manipulates the bass line here, simple and to the point. First he descends (contrary to the rising line in the exposition, then the sudden turn upward. I'd probably bring this out.
b. 135-7 - Appreciate the dovetailing between the 2nds and 1sts (same in expo)
From here until the coda, the writing is virtually identical to the expo, albeit in the tonic now. The disposition of the wind chords starting at b. 151 is different, but (in my view) not structurally crucial.
b. 163-4 - Now this should be compared against 57-8.
b. 176 - While the unison violin writing matches the expo, the 2nds are (for Mozart) unusually high. For reference, how often to they rise above the staff in the rest of the symphony? Never. In fact, in the 4th movement, b. 155 and on, he won't even let the 2nds take the high C-sharp (which would have been in line with the parallel passage at b. 52). Am SO TEMPTED to let the 2nds play this up...
b. 189 forward - Follow the canon through 1sts, bass line, horns and violas. Will make a great effect.
b. 195-6 The last gasp of chromaticism in this movement. Ride the subsequent descending parallel 6 chords to glory! Don't forget that the 8ths from b. 201 are structural; this is a little bit of a surprise, as their function changed from the start of the movement, from transitional passagework to the building block of the development and now to the meat of the coda. I'd give shape to all of the rising 4-note scales.
b. 205-6 - Please execute this last two bars with care. No diminuendo, but no accent on the last downbeat either.
This is just a sample of the decisions I make and the interactions I have with any score. To a certain degree, this is the fun part of conducting for me; because the beating of the movement is not too challenging. Let a great orchestra play, adjust as needed. And remember, the less secure you are with the score, the more and bigger you will beat. Study thoroughly, and your beat will stop here, too.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Bar 7 - all'Italiana
Because I don't trust my own judgment at times, I will on occasion listen to a recording of something I am about to conduct. Somebody please stop me the next time I consider doing this. Last night I put on a disc of a famous conductor (whose work I generally admire) conducting Rossini overtures, specifically La Cenerentola. I was curious to see how Maestro would deal with the absence of a written-out percussion or timpani part (there is none in Rossini's hand).
...wait for it...
...wait for it...
...there was no percussion at all...it emerged sounding like a baroque Concerto Grosso.
I was more incredulous than annoyed. Again, there is no right or wrong; there is just informed and less-informed taste. Here is clearly a case of the latter. Had Maestro not even considered the possibility that Rossini assumed the timpanist would improvise or fit a part in to the orchestral texture? Rossini didn't write the recitatives either; does that mean we don't do them? Would this opera then be unique or redefine everything we know about buffo style because Rossini, who wrote the work with his habitual haste, didn't bother to write out a percussion part? Percussion, be it cymbals and bass drum, timpani, triangle or even sistri (look it up; Il barbiere di Siviglia, 1st act finale) is an integral aspect of opera buffa.
And then there is question of the "Ta-da!" chords in bars 2 and 6. Tradition suggests that these chords (16th-note leading to half-note) are performed "all'Italiana" - the short note rendered gesturally; late and resembling a 32nd-note. Maestro had evidently assumed that, because the line in the opening bar is written in a double-dotted rhythm, that the tutti chord in the subsequent bar should be executed come scritto. Va bene, but then cadential chords at the conclusion of the introduction, notated in the same manner, were performed all'Italiana! Not that there is anything requiring Maestro to be consistent in his approach to the chords at the beginning and end of the introduction. That said, I'd love to know what the rationale was. These same chords, which occur throughout the works of Rossini, Bellini, Donizetti and Verdi, are never written out as 32nd-notes, not necessarily because it is a waste of time to write out the 32nd-notes themselves, but because it is a waste of time to write out the obligatory 32nd-rests preceding the notes, in all of the parts.
OK, the execution of cadential chords preceded by 16th-notes is a matter of taste. But I have my doubts that any conductor in a provincial Italian house would have taken the time to rehearse proper 16th's (and it would have taken time to get the orchestra to execute a 16th-note chord in a slow tempo together). Hence, "Ta-da!" has come down to us as a tradition. Is it in good taste? Were I glib, I would respond, "It's opera buffa; since when do we care about buon gusto?" Instead, I will open the door to the broader discussion of what defines taste. How one acquires taste. I would suggest that this is one of the conductor's primary responsibilities, and a major roadblock to the aspiring non-European conductor in his/her search for authenticity in interpretation. We'll talk about this more in future entries.
What about the opening bars of the overture to Die Zauberflöte? I have done it in a variety of ways, and leave it up to the reader to make an informed decision.
All right, I lied: I was more annoyed than incredulous.
...wait for it...
...wait for it...
...there was no percussion at all...it emerged sounding like a baroque Concerto Grosso.
I was more incredulous than annoyed. Again, there is no right or wrong; there is just informed and less-informed taste. Here is clearly a case of the latter. Had Maestro not even considered the possibility that Rossini assumed the timpanist would improvise or fit a part in to the orchestral texture? Rossini didn't write the recitatives either; does that mean we don't do them? Would this opera then be unique or redefine everything we know about buffo style because Rossini, who wrote the work with his habitual haste, didn't bother to write out a percussion part? Percussion, be it cymbals and bass drum, timpani, triangle or even sistri (look it up; Il barbiere di Siviglia, 1st act finale) is an integral aspect of opera buffa.
And then there is question of the "Ta-da!" chords in bars 2 and 6. Tradition suggests that these chords (16th-note leading to half-note) are performed "all'Italiana" - the short note rendered gesturally; late and resembling a 32nd-note. Maestro had evidently assumed that, because the line in the opening bar is written in a double-dotted rhythm, that the tutti chord in the subsequent bar should be executed come scritto. Va bene, but then cadential chords at the conclusion of the introduction, notated in the same manner, were performed all'Italiana! Not that there is anything requiring Maestro to be consistent in his approach to the chords at the beginning and end of the introduction. That said, I'd love to know what the rationale was. These same chords, which occur throughout the works of Rossini, Bellini, Donizetti and Verdi, are never written out as 32nd-notes, not necessarily because it is a waste of time to write out the 32nd-notes themselves, but because it is a waste of time to write out the obligatory 32nd-rests preceding the notes, in all of the parts.
OK, the execution of cadential chords preceded by 16th-notes is a matter of taste. But I have my doubts that any conductor in a provincial Italian house would have taken the time to rehearse proper 16th's (and it would have taken time to get the orchestra to execute a 16th-note chord in a slow tempo together). Hence, "Ta-da!" has come down to us as a tradition. Is it in good taste? Were I glib, I would respond, "It's opera buffa; since when do we care about buon gusto?" Instead, I will open the door to the broader discussion of what defines taste. How one acquires taste. I would suggest that this is one of the conductor's primary responsibilities, and a major roadblock to the aspiring non-European conductor in his/her search for authenticity in interpretation. We'll talk about this more in future entries.
What about the opening bars of the overture to Die Zauberflöte? I have done it in a variety of ways, and leave it up to the reader to make an informed decision.
All right, I lied: I was more annoyed than incredulous.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Bar 6 -Brahms 2
The Bengals have won, the baba ganoush has been made, the Bolognese ingredients for the pasta are bought and assembled, so on to Brahms.
The first bar reminds one of the opening of Beethoven Violin Concerto; what seems to be introductory is actually structural; repeated timpani D's leading to 3 bars of winds in the Beethoven, a half-step motive in cello and bass (D-C sharp-D) leading to three bars of horns and bassoons in the Brahms. Is it a coincidence they are in the same key? Brahms rarely strays far from Beethoven in the symphonies (in what key is Beethoven 2?), but that is old news. Nor does Brahms neglect Beethoven's timpani; it emerges in bar 32 like distant thunder ushering in the trombone/tuba chorale. This chorale is significant; it marks the first time Brahms uses trombones without the support of bassoons or horns (see his first symphony, last movement, bar 47) as well as his first time employing tuba in a symphony (he uses it once earlier, in Ein deutsches Requiem). It is also in a sense cyclic: The question posed by the trombones in this passage is in fact answered by them at the conclusion of the final movement, in as bold a gesture of orchestration as Brahms every conceived, the radiant D Major triad five bars from the end.
That the entire symphony is derived from the opening half step gesture and the 3rd in the horns is no surprise, either. But to explain this all here would be to deny you the pleasure of discovering it yourself. After the laborious, overt manipulation of every ounce of motivic gesture in the 1st symphony, isn't it a relief to witness the virtuoso construction and composition of the 2nd! Motive follows motive, extending into melody, seamlessly and seemingly without effort. For me, D Major proves to be a transcendental key for Brahms, both spiritually and in the sense of transcending craft. For comparison, look at the Violin Concerto, the ending of the first Piano Concerto and the overlooked but sublime Ballade No. 2 in D Major, Op.10 no. 2.
A sunny thought to end this posting. Almost makes you forget that the Reds lost to Houston.
The first bar reminds one of the opening of Beethoven Violin Concerto; what seems to be introductory is actually structural; repeated timpani D's leading to 3 bars of winds in the Beethoven, a half-step motive in cello and bass (D-C sharp-D) leading to three bars of horns and bassoons in the Brahms. Is it a coincidence they are in the same key? Brahms rarely strays far from Beethoven in the symphonies (in what key is Beethoven 2?), but that is old news. Nor does Brahms neglect Beethoven's timpani; it emerges in bar 32 like distant thunder ushering in the trombone/tuba chorale. This chorale is significant; it marks the first time Brahms uses trombones without the support of bassoons or horns (see his first symphony, last movement, bar 47) as well as his first time employing tuba in a symphony (he uses it once earlier, in Ein deutsches Requiem). It is also in a sense cyclic: The question posed by the trombones in this passage is in fact answered by them at the conclusion of the final movement, in as bold a gesture of orchestration as Brahms every conceived, the radiant D Major triad five bars from the end.
That the entire symphony is derived from the opening half step gesture and the 3rd in the horns is no surprise, either. But to explain this all here would be to deny you the pleasure of discovering it yourself. After the laborious, overt manipulation of every ounce of motivic gesture in the 1st symphony, isn't it a relief to witness the virtuoso construction and composition of the 2nd! Motive follows motive, extending into melody, seamlessly and seemingly without effort. For me, D Major proves to be a transcendental key for Brahms, both spiritually and in the sense of transcending craft. For comparison, look at the Violin Concerto, the ending of the first Piano Concerto and the overlooked but sublime Ballade No. 2 in D Major, Op.10 no. 2.
A sunny thought to end this posting. Almost makes you forget that the Reds lost to Houston.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Bar 5 - Schumann 1
Yesterday I found myself going over tricky spots in Schumann 1 and Manfred Overture with my colleague, Maestra Tomaro while having Thai food at the Blue Elephant.. Aside from the excellent broad noodles, sticky rice, green tea ice cream and the usual regrets one has about Schumann's inability to make his ideas sound, I was reminded of the wealth of inspiration in the score. So many great ideas, and I love how he channels Beethoven 4 in the 2nd movement. My colleague brought up questions of textual authenticity in Manfred, and we wrestled with the rightness or wrongness of what he apparently wrote. Even with the manuscript facsimile of the symphony in hand, one wonders, "Is that really what he intended?"
The problems begin in bar 1, which in the manuscript is clearly written down a third from what is found in the final version. Structurally, the original version makes more sense, especially when one considers the opening of the 2nd movement. The 1st melody traces the 6-7-8 of the scale, mirroring the original opening of the 1st movement (B-flat, G, A B-flat). I myself change the printed text of the 1st movement when I perform it; Schumann only rewrote it because the fanfare didn't sound with the horns in B-flat. Knowing this, why isn't it performed more often as he originally intended?
One could go one about the orchestration, which has been retouched by a host of well meaning, gifted conductors from Mahler to Weingartner to Szell. Is it wrong to retouch? Is it wrong to rewrite? Where is a musical ethicist when we need one?...oh, that would be us, wouldn't it? Musical ethics is a topic that will continue to arise as we move forward in our discussions.
Answers to Mozart question - some other major works in the key of A Major:
A Major Violin Concerto, K. 219
A Major Violin Sonatas, K. 305, 526
A Major Piano Sonata, K 331
Clarinet Concerto, K. 622
Clarinet Quintet, K. 581
Aria: "Un aura amorosa" from Cosi fan tutte
A Major Piano Concertos, K. 414, 488
Check them out, lots of great music there!
The problems begin in bar 1, which in the manuscript is clearly written down a third from what is found in the final version. Structurally, the original version makes more sense, especially when one considers the opening of the 2nd movement. The 1st melody traces the 6-7-8 of the scale, mirroring the original opening of the 1st movement (B-flat, G, A B-flat). I myself change the printed text of the 1st movement when I perform it; Schumann only rewrote it because the fanfare didn't sound with the horns in B-flat. Knowing this, why isn't it performed more often as he originally intended?
One could go one about the orchestration, which has been retouched by a host of well meaning, gifted conductors from Mahler to Weingartner to Szell. Is it wrong to retouch? Is it wrong to rewrite? Where is a musical ethicist when we need one?...oh, that would be us, wouldn't it? Musical ethics is a topic that will continue to arise as we move forward in our discussions.
Answers to Mozart question - some other major works in the key of A Major:
A Major Violin Concerto, K. 219
A Major Violin Sonatas, K. 305, 526
A Major Piano Sonata, K 331
Clarinet Concerto, K. 622
Clarinet Quintet, K. 581
Aria: "Un aura amorosa" from Cosi fan tutte
A Major Piano Concertos, K. 414, 488
Check them out, lots of great music there!
Friday, September 10, 2010
Bar 4 - Back to teaching
Was working with a new student this morning on Schubert Unfinished. Same methods; phrase length, harmonic analysis, are the 16ths on or off the string? If it were an art song, what would the text be for the opening phrase in the vcl/cb? I got on the subject of YouTube. Does watching a video of Riccardo Muti conducting ANYTHING really help us on the podium? I compared it to watching TV in Beijing; I see people acting, I see their mouths moving and hear sounds emerging from them, but I have no idea what they are saying. Maestro Muti is speaking a language that we don't understand, as much as we might like to and as much as we might believe we do. Our time is, as always, better spent studying a score ourselves and establishing our own relationship with a composer. Learning and acquiring some sense of taste and style. As I suggested to my student today, there is no "right" or 'wrong' way; there is only informed and less-informed taste. How does one acquire taste?
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Bar 3 - "...be ANIMAL!"
Maestro Ozawa once told us conducting students at Tanglewood that we had to be "animals" at times, by which he meant that we needed to do something physical outside of our music. Ball sports, running, swimming (don't know if curling counts), anything to break a sweat and to get us out of ourselves. So I am running, every day a little more distance, a little faster, a little more incline. And I review scores in my head while I run, try to think them through from memory. Not as easy as one would think.
What are your hobbies? What puts a smile on your face? And if all you can muster is "Maestro So-and-So conducting Bla-di-bla's 8th," I'll open up a copy of Op. 23, No. 5 "Etude in the Key of Whoop-ass" on you.
Tomorrow's challenge:
Name 6 pieces in A Major by Mozart, apart from the 29. Do they have anything in common? Is it important?
What are your hobbies? What puts a smile on your face? And if all you can muster is "Maestro So-and-So conducting Bla-di-bla's 8th," I'll open up a copy of Op. 23, No. 5 "Etude in the Key of Whoop-ass" on you.
Tomorrow's challenge:
Name 6 pieces in A Major by Mozart, apart from the 29. Do they have anything in common? Is it important?
Bar 2 - Milhaud, Le Boeuf Sur le Toit
Bonjour, mes amis! Avant Mozart, Milhaud - Le Boeuf sur le Toit. I know that some find it repetitive, but it is so joyous, so colorful, so much fun to play!
There are, for the record, 14 iterations of the tune, in all 12 major keys, plus the last 2, in A and C respectively. I'll save you the trouble of finding the pattern. The 12 statements, starting in C major, rise sequentially by minor 3rds (C-E-flat, G-flat, A), then slip down a wholestep to G, followed again rising minor 3rds, (G-B-flat, D-flat, E), slipping down a wholestep to D, followed by the last set of minor 3rds (D, F, A-flat, B). Then it slips down a wholestep to A, and we end up in C, where we started. I love the ambiguity of the first bar; is it a lead-in, or is it actually the first measure of the tune?
Curiously, the first 12 statements of the tune are orchestrated alike, strings with bassoon, horn, trumpet and trombone, accompanied by the ever-delightful guicharo, a ridged gourd rubbed lengthwise with a stick. The guicharista is therefore the only member of the orchestra who has no concerns about intonation in these passages. Principal horn risks a hernia in some of the keys.
For such a structurally simple piece, there are tricky and clever passages for virtually every section of the orchestra. Note the high cello in B-flat minor at 19 after K, the dovetailing pizzicati 5 after N (with one nasty arco bar for the 2nds at the end of the 1st period) underneath a C-sharp minor tune in the 1sts that is awkward in the upper octave. Violas get their moment in E Major at 14 before the 3/8. At R, in D minor, the 2nds have a GREAT lick, doubled two octaves down in the celli, over a virtuoso 16th-note passage in flute and clarinet. After S, there is a laughable 16th-note F major passage in the oboe and horn, over a bassoon arpeggio etude. Lots of exposed trumpet. Trombone and basses get a workout as well; fun for the whole family. Frequent polytonality presents a rehearsal challenge, as well as balance concerns. I myself like to encourage anybody playing in a key other than the primary key to let loose; the more sonic chaos, the better.
To get the right feel of the piece requires some imagination; it must have some swing, some inflection and some creative gesture from the podium (shake it!). Go ahead, get your choro on!
There are, for the record, 14 iterations of the tune, in all 12 major keys, plus the last 2, in A and C respectively. I'll save you the trouble of finding the pattern. The 12 statements, starting in C major, rise sequentially by minor 3rds (C-E-flat, G-flat, A), then slip down a wholestep to G, followed again rising minor 3rds, (G-B-flat, D-flat, E), slipping down a wholestep to D, followed by the last set of minor 3rds (D, F, A-flat, B). Then it slips down a wholestep to A, and we end up in C, where we started. I love the ambiguity of the first bar; is it a lead-in, or is it actually the first measure of the tune?
Curiously, the first 12 statements of the tune are orchestrated alike, strings with bassoon, horn, trumpet and trombone, accompanied by the ever-delightful guicharo, a ridged gourd rubbed lengthwise with a stick. The guicharista is therefore the only member of the orchestra who has no concerns about intonation in these passages. Principal horn risks a hernia in some of the keys.
For such a structurally simple piece, there are tricky and clever passages for virtually every section of the orchestra. Note the high cello in B-flat minor at 19 after K, the dovetailing pizzicati 5 after N (with one nasty arco bar for the 2nds at the end of the 1st period) underneath a C-sharp minor tune in the 1sts that is awkward in the upper octave. Violas get their moment in E Major at 14 before the 3/8. At R, in D minor, the 2nds have a GREAT lick, doubled two octaves down in the celli, over a virtuoso 16th-note passage in flute and clarinet. After S, there is a laughable 16th-note F major passage in the oboe and horn, over a bassoon arpeggio etude. Lots of exposed trumpet. Trombone and basses get a workout as well; fun for the whole family. Frequent polytonality presents a rehearsal challenge, as well as balance concerns. I myself like to encourage anybody playing in a key other than the primary key to let loose; the more sonic chaos, the better.
To get the right feel of the piece requires some imagination; it must have some swing, some inflection and some creative gesture from the podium (shake it!). Go ahead, get your choro on!
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Bar 1
Dear friends and students, welcome to TBSH.
Not quite sure where to begin, but let's try this: We attended the wedding of my very first conducting student last weekend, outside of Washington, DC. He is now with the service bands and orchestra of the US military (one of the great jobs, by the way). During the ceremony (a lovely one!), I suggested the following, "The quality of one's life is not based on how the performance goes, but on who one goes home to after the performance." Before any discussion of scores or career or craft or rebound or gesture or champagne or foie gras, I urge you to make a note of this. Got it? Good.
Now, what scores did you all study today? I went back to Falla El Amor Brujo and Mozart 29, part of my program w. Omaha Symphony in a few weeks. Spoke with a colleague about whether or not one might use a little "andaluz" in singing the Falla, which would be a little like singing guttural r's in French (non si fa...o sì?). Haven't done the piece in over a decade, and it thrills me every time I open the score. If you haven't done it, look at it; it is a super piece, not difficult to play, rehearses quickly and is incredibly effective. You don't need a singer, though it is better with one. As for the Mozart, let's talk about that tomorrow.
Not quite sure where to begin, but let's try this: We attended the wedding of my very first conducting student last weekend, outside of Washington, DC. He is now with the service bands and orchestra of the US military (one of the great jobs, by the way). During the ceremony (a lovely one!), I suggested the following, "The quality of one's life is not based on how the performance goes, but on who one goes home to after the performance." Before any discussion of scores or career or craft or rebound or gesture or champagne or foie gras, I urge you to make a note of this. Got it? Good.
Now, what scores did you all study today? I went back to Falla El Amor Brujo and Mozart 29, part of my program w. Omaha Symphony in a few weeks. Spoke with a colleague about whether or not one might use a little "andaluz" in singing the Falla, which would be a little like singing guttural r's in French (non si fa...o sì?). Haven't done the piece in over a decade, and it thrills me every time I open the score. If you haven't done it, look at it; it is a super piece, not difficult to play, rehearses quickly and is incredibly effective. You don't need a singer, though it is better with one. As for the Mozart, let's talk about that tomorrow.
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