Tag: orchestra

There’s an App for That: The Orchestra

Posted on January 9, 2013 by Isaac Schankler - Columns

At the risk of sounding like someone who hyperbolically rhapsodizes about every new technological gimmick, the new Orchestra iPad app is pretty great. At the very least, it presents an extremely pleasant and novel way to listen to and/or learn about classical music, in the very capable hands of Esa-Pekka Salonen and the Philharmonia Orchestra. Thought of in a certain light, it’s like a rather strange and ambitious compilation album. The featured pieces are carefully selected, spanning the history of the Western canon from Haydn to Salonen (naturally), and are performed with impeccable craft.

The presentation is similarly meticulous. For each piece we get video from three different angles (two of the orchestra and one of the conductor), a stage plot of the ensemble, a score that automatically follows along with the audio, and a mini-essay by veteran L.A. Times critic Mark Swed. The interface presenting all of this is impressively intuitive, making it easy to seamlessly switch between and resize these different views. My only complaint in this regard is that there are only two note size options with the score, with no ability to freely zoom in and out. In fact, most of the time it’s not possible to see the full score on the screen all at once.

This may be part of the reason why we’re also given a “curated score” view that only contains a few instruments at a time. Personally, I found the curated score frustrating, since it’s not a true short score, merely omitting rather than compressing staves. But others may find it helpful in following along with the more important lines and themes. And if you don’t read music, it’s simple enough to switch to a piano-roll sequencer-style notation, or to minimize the score entirely.
Besides, the video is entertaining enough on its own, with a musicians’ view of Salonen swinging his arms about with ferocious facial expressions, and well-chosen close-ups of the musicians themselves, which allows me to play one of my favorite games, “Which celebrity does this orchestra member vaguely resemble?” (That clarinetist looks like Brent Spiner…and there’s Rowan Atkinson on tuba….Hey, it’s Toby from The Office on cello!)

Of course there’s also ongoing commentary from both Salonen and the musicians, which can be toggled on and off as audio or subtitles. Salonen’s commentary is generally insightful and occasionally witty. (I particularly liked his comparison of Debussy’s music to something organic, “like a flower or a cat.”) By contrast the musicians’ banter is a little less focused, but still interesting.

But what struck me most about hearing the music in this context is how it subtly, almost casually presents an argument for the orchestra itself, as both an institution and an artifact. As a maker of new music it’s easy to feel that the orchestra isn’t as relevant as it used to be, a sort of behemoth of a bygone age, especially with the recent struggles that so many orchestras have endured. But encountering the music in this way, it’s impossible not to feel that orchestral music is important, exciting, and vital. You see, very clearly, the effort and talent of everyone involved. And perhaps more importantly, you see them as people, with their quirks and mannerisms intact.

You can also see quite clearly the progression of Western art music, with each generation iterating on the innovations of the last. It’s one of the most persuasive arguments for the Western canon’s vitality and endurance that I’ve encountered, and it does so entirely in subtext, without any grandiose, pompous pronouncements.

For this reason I think the decision to include a breadth of styles and time periods was a smart one, even though it means you only get to hear movements or excerpts from most pieces. (Debussy’s Prélude à l’après-midi d’un faune is a highlight simply because you get to hear the whole thing.) But in the end, maybe this is for the best anyway, as it acts as a sort of appetizer that piques interest to hear more. I, for one, would love to see more classical music presented this way. John Cage app, anyone?

Recycled Instruments

Posted on December 20, 2012 by DanVisconti - Columns

Most Americans have never seen anything like Cateura, Paraguay, a city built atop a sprawling landfill in which most residents subside by foraging, repurposing, and selling useful bits scavenged from the trash. And most readers would admit that this seems like a highly unlikely location for the formation of a community orchestra, given that in Cateura even a cheap factory violin is worth more than most houses.

Enter the Catuera Orchestra of Recycled Instruments, the subject of a new documentary film-in-progress aptly titled Landfill Harmonic. The orchestra is the brainchild of music director Favio Chavez, and a team of parents and community activists are creating new opportunities for work in an initiative to build musical instruments from recycled trash. The orchestra plays classical music and Paraguayan folk melodies and has even started playing music by the Beatles; check out the video below to see neighborhood kids performing on instruments created from oil cans, forks, meat hammers, and all manner of “useless” debris:

I can’t think of another endeavor that so perfectly illustrates music’s capacity for social transformation or, furthermore, that on the most fundamental level music is social transformation. Music director Chavez has noted the impact that the orchestra is having locally and internationally: “People realize that we shouldn’t throw away trash carelessly. Well, we shouldn’t throw away people either.” For the impoverished people of Cateura, making the most of the materials you have at your disposal is both a musical and social mantra.

American major orchestras are an expensive affair, with budgets for soloists, publicity, instruments and insurance, and performer salaries, selling equally expensive tickets. And let’s not forget one of the largest expenses: executive pay. It seems to me that both musicians and administrators might learn something from the Cateura Orchestra of Recycled Instruments about investment, sacrifice, and priorities. In the words of the orchestra’s music director, “The world sends us garbage. We send back music.”

Adventures in Orchestra, Part 2: Unlikely Collaborators

Posted on November 15, 2012 by Alexandra Gardner - Columns

More and more frequently, orchestras and other ensembles of all sizes and shapes are embracing thematic programming that in some way strives to forge a connection with communities beyond the concert hall. This can take many forms, such as concerts specifically for children, having the orchestra perform in a public space to honor some anniversary or event taking place in their resident city, or by incorporating musical forms other than classical music into a concert setting. The work I composed for the Seattle Symphony was part of such an effort. It was commissioned as part of their Sonic Evolution project, which asks composers to create new works which reflect upon the past and future of the Seattle music scene. Before I signed on to the project, the orchestra had decided that this year one of the works would include a soloist, and I was invited to work with drummer Alan White. The long time drummer with the band Yes, Alan has lived in Seattle for over 30 years with his wife and family, and is a popular and well-loved figure in the local music community. The work would not be a concerto, but rather, there would be a drum set presence through the piece, and he would have a short solo.

Working with Alan was an amazing and inspiring experience that was at times totally easy and at others insanely challenging. The easy part stemmed from the fact that Alan has a very relaxed and easygoing personality. At the beginning, before we actually met, I thought, “How on earth am I going to deal with an honest-to-goodness rock star?” Well, that part was no problem; we got along famously. After playing with Yes for what is now 40 years (!!), if there is one thing he can do, it’s collaborate. The challenge lay in the fact that he doesn’t read music fluently. His entire musical existence has happened by ear! Has anyone out there ever listened to the third side of Tales from Topographic Oceans? Can you imagine memorizing that?! Insane.

Anyway, I decided to work him into the piece by creating structured improvisations within certain sections of the music. Together we worked out rhythmic material that served as a basis upon which he could play more freely. The drum set had specific points at which to start and stop in the score, and I wrote material for the other three percussionists that served to guide Alan into and out of his sections. In addition, because it seemed important to maintain a drum set sound even when Alan wasn’t playing, I ended up making the entire percussion section into one big slightly off-kilter drum set by splitting the different parts like snare, cymbals, and kick drum between the other players and mixing up the types of drums used amongst them. The kit sound expanded and contracted to meet the needs of the rest of the musical material. With all of this in mind, I decided to place Alan’s drum kit with the percussion section at the back of the stage, raised on a platform so that the audience would be able to see him playing. During the concert there was a spotlight on him during his solo! It was fabulous:

Alan White performing “Just Say Yes” with the Seattle Symphony. Photo courtesy of Jerry and Lois Photography.

When the piece was finished, along with a MIDI mockup (yuck!) of the piece, I sent Alan the full score plus a special drum set part that, in addition to all the information a part generally contains, also had copious text instructions such as “STOP after seventeen bars of this!” I also marked lots of clock timings, so that he could listen to the MIDI audio and know exactly where he needed to be. He listened obsessively to the mockup recording for months (I have already sent my apologies to his family), and when I arrived to work with him right before the concert, he had things totally under control. In the end everything worked out, and here are some things that we both learned during the final period of rehearsals:

It is LOUD up in there.
We both were well aware that being on stage within a full orchestra is one of the loudest experiences anyone will ever have (Alan said that playing with an orchestra is much louder than playing in any amplified rock band, even in a huge stadium), and that made his experience difficult. Suddenly playing live with so many other musicians is mind-blowingly disconcerting—even seasoned performers of classical music will attest to this—and nothing sounds the same on stage as it does in the audience or on any recording. He had trouble hearing the cues he had become accustomed to, and had to work fast to get acclimated. There really is no way to recreate the experience of playing within a live orchestra. You just have to be there.

This is also a very real issue to consider for composers who are creating their own instrumental parts. Will the performer be able to actually hear your cue? Think about where the instruments are placed; if there is a harp cue in a trombone part, what are the chances that the trombonist is going to hear the harp? They are usually placed across the stage from one another, and there are lots of instruments between them. If any other instruments are playing, even softly, it is very likely that the harp cue will be totally inaudible to the trombone. Alan’s cues were being played by percussionists right next to him and they were still difficult to hear! During the process of choosing cues, always bear in mind where instruments are placed relative to each other, and what else is going on around them. Attending rehearsals—lots of them—of large ensembles is a good way to get a feel for the sonic realities of performance.

Drum sets are loud too.
One thing I didn’t mention in my last post about addressing the orchestra is that when I stepped up onto the podium, I saw that the drum set was enclosed by a wall of plexiglass! This was surprising, but it was intended to prevent him from blowing the orchestra out of the water—especially the woodwinds, whose ears were right in front of the kit at drum head level. The unintended consequence of plexiglass was that it amplified the drum kit sounds to Alan’s ear, making it even harder for him to hear what was happening around him.

Following a conductor is hard.
If it’s not something one does regularly, it’s really, really difficult. It has nothing to do with the quality of the conductor; it’s the nature of the beast. In a rock band setting, the drummer basically IS the conductor, further complicating the orchestra scenario.

There is no substitute for rehearsal.
Alan pointed out after our first rehearsal that before Yes goes out on tour, they rehearse together eight hours a day for about a month solid before they even set foot on a stage. And those are usually songs they already know! Although I was aware of this, I didn’t completely register until that moment how foreign the experience of two speedy orchestra rehearsals must have been. I now have even more respect for his professional attitude and ability to quickly adapt to a very different musical setting.

Adventures in Orchestra, Part 1: Locking Down the End Game

Posted on November 8, 2012 by Alexandra Gardner - Columns

Seattle Symphony performing in Benaroya Hall. Photo courtesy of Jerry and Lois Photography.

For the past many months I have been avoiding writing much about my recent project with the Seattle Symphony; in part because I was trying to, you know, get the music done, and also because I suspect that constant chatter about one’s own projects would not be the most interesting use of this space. However, I have been keeping notes about what I learned during the process—about every aspect of it, from start to finish—and there are so many things that could be helpful to others that I wanted to begin putting them out there for other composers who are or will be working with an orchestra for the first time.

This is a general list of things that came about after having finished the music, during the making of parts, and the final week of production and rehearsal:

1. Make a special “parts score” from which instrumental parts are made.
I feel a bit silly mentioning this since it seems so obvious after the fact, but I composed more than one large-scale work before realizing that this makes life SO much easier when it comes to generating parts. Basically, you make a copy of your full score, and then tweak the details (like measure number frequency/style, adding cues for each instrument, etc.) so each part can be efficiently extracted without requiring tons of additional editing.

2. The orchestra music librarian is your new best friend.
Whether you are creating your own score and parts, or even if you have a copyist, trust no one more than that orchestra’s music librarian. They know exactly how your score and parts need to be formatted, and there are details that may vary from orchestra to orchestra that s/he can tell you about. For instance, there are ways one could display measure numbers on parts that would be fine for one orchestra, but not so much for another. Make contact with the librarian early in the process, find out if there are specific requirements that you need to be aware of, and—this is really important—send a sample part before you get rolling on the full set. That way if something in the layout/presentation needs tweaking, you can easily incorporate that into all the parts as you go.

3. Hire a proofreader.
Whether or not you use a copyist or do everything on your own, I highly recommend using a good proofreader. I know that by the time I have finished a score and parts, I have absolutely, completely, without a doubt lost all powers of discrimination regarding the score, and I have to have another set of eyes on everything. Had I not used a proofreader (thanks, Gilbert!!), I could have been in big trouble during rehearsals. This will set your mind at ease, and prevent the rehearsals being stalled to answer silly questions about accidentals or other musical instructions.

4. Understand the rehearsal process, and be ready to make quick decisions.
As I mentioned in another post, orchestra rehearsal time is extremely limited. For this project, my piece received two 30-minute rehearsals, which is actually quite luxurious for a professional orchestra. However, putting together any composition that involves upwards of 80 people in that time span is no easy task. The best analogy I can think of to describe the feeling of hearing a new work come to life within this context is that of (I can only imagine) a father-to-be experiencing the birth of a child; excited, frightened, and helpless. It is both magical and terrifying. Find out how your conductor prefers to run rehearsals (I simply asked a friend who plays in the orchestra) and be prepared. The conductor might invite you to the podium to speak to the orchestra, or s/he might prefer that you address her or him directly, or maybe you just meet for a few minutes one-on-one after the fact. Respect their methods; at that point, the conductor knows your score better than you do, and wants to make it work just as much as you do.

During the first rehearsal of my piece, conductor Ludovic Morlot flew through the score, and I sat in the hall following along, dog-earing pages of my score and circling anything that I thought needed a fix. As this was happening, I was taking mental notes about what items would receive priority, because I knew that I would have about 60 seconds to tell the orchestra things I wanted to change. As a colleague advised beforehand, “Write down eight or ten things, and pick the most important two or three.” As it turned out, I didn’t interact with the orchestra until the second rehearsal, but in the meantime I sent my notes to Morlot, and by the second go-round the primary adjustments had been made, and I was able to focus on other things from the list.

5. Have your “elevator speech” ready to go.
Chances are that before, during, or after the concert happens, you will be asked for an interview, to do a pre- or post-concert question and answer session, or to meet orchestra board members or donors. Be prepared to talk about your new composition, and about your music in general, in a clear, concise, articulate manner. Don’t try to “wing it”—practice! Have talking points in mind, clip the use of “um” and “like”… in other words, make sure your words sound as good as your music.

I hope that others will share their experiences and advice in the comments section! Stay tuned for more adventures in the coming weeks…

Seattle Symphony: Partying Like It’s 1962

Posted on November 1, 2012 by Alexandra Gardner - Columns

Full disclosure: Seattle Symphony performed my music as part of their Sonic Evolution project on October 26th. However, since they also host a number of interesting and creative music series designed to attract new audiences, I wanted to share with NewMusicBox readers my observations of an event I had the opportunity to attend while I was in town.

*After arriving in drizzly, chilly, late-October Seattle, I took a short “disco nap,” in part to battle coast-to-coast jetlag, and also to make sure my ears would be well sharpened for the Seattle Symphony’s new late night contemporary chamber music series called [untitled]. Designed to take place in the grand lobby of Benaroya Hall—a welcoming space with gigantic windows overlooking the city—this inaugural concert celebrated the 50th anniversary of the Seattle World’s Fair by presenting works composed exclusively in 1962. The festivities featured a mixed ensemble of orchestra musicians, as well as six members of the International Contemporary Ensemble (ICE) who were in town participating in the symphony’s full weekend of concerts.

When I arrived shortly before 9:00 p.m., people were milling about the lobby, and many were lining up at the several bar areas to procure beer, wine, coffee, and tea. It was over an hour before the actual event was supposed to begin, but I wanted to hear the decidedly post-1962 “pre-concert” event as well; Gabriel Prokofiev’s Concerto for Turntable and Orchestra. A work for chamber orchestra featuring select members of the symphony, it was conducted by assistant conductor Stilian Kirov, and featured DJ Madhatter on turntables. I ended up sitting at a table close to the musicians with some of the volunteer crew (who requested detailed explanation regarding what the DJ was doing and how exactly he was doing it), and although I couldn’t see all of the musicians, I had a clear view of large video displays focused on the DJ’s turntable and electronics setup. It was a satisfying way to experience the piece, as the DJ’s role was highly virtuosic; he kept busy scratching and spinning the bubbling orchestra source material contained on his vinyl records, playing snappy exchanges with the musicians as well as cadenzas of his own making. Happily, the acoustics of the grand lobby are excellent; the performance (and indeed, the entire concert) sounded crisp, clear, and well balanced in the space. The audience gathered closely around the players, and the piece was well suited to such an intimate setting.

Gabriel Prokofiev Concerto for Turntable and Orchestra

Seattle Symphony musicians with assistant conductor Stilian Kirov and DJ Madhatter performing Gabriel Prokofiev’s Concerto for Turntable and Orchestra. Photo by Ben VanHouten.

By the time the “official” event kicked off, after additional drinks and desserts and milling about, the lobby was filling up nicely with several hundred concertgoers. Some took advantage of seating arranged both on the ground floor and around the circumferences of the upper floors, while others parked on the stairs and on the floor. Music Director Ludovic Morlot served as the MC for the [untitled] program, enthusiastically giving background information on the pieces, directing the audience’s attention to each of the two performance areas in the lobby, and imploring people to wander through the space and experience the music from different vantage points.

Seattle Symphony [untitled] concert in the grand lobby of Benaroya Hall. Photo by Ben Vanhouten.

The first work on the program proper was John Cage’s Variations III for “any number of people performing any actions.” Morlot emphasized the whimsy of this work as he playfully tossed the transparent circle images which constitute the score under a camera that fed the numerous video screens (which, when not being employed to show scores, projected the program in progress, along with associated information and notes), and added embellishments to the blank sheet of paper with colored Sharpie pens. The musicians, scattered through the performance area, reacted to the visual stimulus, creating a pointillistic sound field that ended all too soon. Although some Cage diehards in the audience could be overheard sounding a little grumbly about the piece not being taken seriously enough (the musicians seemed perfectly serious about the whole affair to me), I imagine that Morlot’s ebullient attitude could warm up a lot of straight-laced classical concertgoers to the adventures offered by Cage’s music.

Next up was Scelsi’s Khoom, which was given a ravishing performance. The audience was transfixed by soprano Maria Mannisto, who navigated the work’s constantly transforming nonsense syllables with ease and clarity. The scene then switched to the second performance area for Earl Brown’s Novara. The score, which is constructed of musical fragments which can be played in any order and combination, was projected on to the video screens, and one could watch the music unfold (or at least try to figure out how it was unfolding) by alternating one’s view from conductor and performers to score. Following that was a taut, intense performance of Atrées by Xenakis, a work for mixed ensemble, consisting of five sections that can be played in any order.

Seattle Symphony and ICE musicians with conductor Ludovic Morlot, performing Scelsi’s Khoom. Photo by Ben Vanhouten.

The exclamation, “Did you even know that Morton Feldman has a work that is only five minutes long?!” could be overheard multiple times after the next (and uncharacteristically short) work, Feldman’s For Franz Kline, featuring another beautifully wordless performance by Maria Mannisto. The final piece on the program was the ever charming Poeme symphonique for 100 metronomes by Ligeti. The metronomes were set up on one level of a staircase leading to the concert hall balcony, and Morlot invited audience members to join him and the members of ICE in starting them up. A good portion of the audience crowded onto the staircase to help get them started, or to have a good look and listen. Although the somewhat cramped location of the metronomes seemed a bit odd at first—normally the piece begs to be located out in the open in a nice large space—the clicking nevertheless resounded throughout the lobby, and could be heard quite strongly in unexpected spots. Although some of the audience started to disperse about halfway through the clacks, chatting with friends and edging toward the doors, a larger number stood transfixed by the metronomes, waiting patiently until the very last click (I did see one gentleman restart a metronome that finished earlier, so the whole process took a while), and giving the miniature tabletop orchestra a hearty round of applause after the final player ground to a halt.

Ligeti’s Poeme Symphonique for 100 metronomes.

Although presenting music of this sort is not a new occurrence, especially in the rich musical life of Seattle, it was nevertheless heartening to see so many intent listeners of many different ages—from teenagers to senior citizens—and to overhear so much conversation about the music itself. Many audience members who didn’t immediately “get it” were eager to enter into dialogue with others for whom this music is an everyday event. (My personal favorite moment was when a man came up to me and the clarinetist I was chatting with after the event, and pointedly said, “It’s interesting that none of the composers on this program are still alive. Do you actually know any living composers?”) Even if those folks never did completely embrace the experience, that they stuck around to try until after midnight is significant. The [untitled] series is a wonderful example of creative programming that provides audiences with a close-up experience of the orchestra, and at the same time strengthens ties with the city by celebrating its history as well as its inhabitants.

Cheung and Shepherd Share In Kravis Prize at NYPhil

Posted on June 27, 2012 by NewMusicBox Staff - Headlines, Ledes

Anthony Cheung (Photo by Beowulf Sheehan) and Sean Shepherd (Photo by Jamie Kingham)

Anthony Cheung, French composer Franck Krawczyk, and Hungarian composer/conductor Peter Eötvös will share in the 2011 Marie-Josée Kravis Prize for New Music at the New York Philharmonic at the request of inaugural recipient Henri Dutilleux, the New York Philharmonic has announced. In addition, Sean Shepherd has been named the 2012 Kravis Emerging Composer.

The Kravis Prize for New Music is bestowed every two years “for extraordinary artistic endeavor in the field of new music,” and French composer Henri Dutilleux was named the first recipient in 2011. At the award ceremony held in Paris on December 7, 2011, Dutilleux announced that he would share the $200,000 award with three composers, each of whom would write a work to be performed by the orchestra in his honor. Dates of the performances of these new works will be announced at a later time.

A Kravis Emerging Composer is to be named in years when the Kravis Prize for New Music is not awarded. The “promising up-and-coming” composer will receive $50,000 and an opportunity to write for the orchestra. As the 2012 Kravis Emerging Composer, Sean Shepherd will write a new work for the Philharmonic to be performed in the 2013–14 season.

Funding for The Kravis Prize for New Music comes from a $10 million gift given to the New York Philharmonic in 2009 by Henry R. Kravis in honor of his wife, Marie-Josée, for whom the prize is named, and which also endows The Marie-Josée Kravis Composer-in-Residence at the New York Philharmonic, a position currently held by Finnish composer Magnus Lindberg and soon to be held by Christopher Rouse. Prizewinners are selected by a committee comprising leading artists and administrators with close ties to the Philharmonic and a demonstrated interest in fostering new music. The total award—$200,000 to the winner of The Kravis Prize for New Music and $50,000 to the Kravis Emerging Composer—makes this among the world’s largest new music prizes.

(—from the press release)

Sounds Heard: Jherek Bischoff—Composed

Posted on June 12, 2012 by Molly Sheridan - Albums, Listen

Jherek Bischoff’s Composed is presented by its Brassland label as “orchestral pop,” and a quick review of his track-by-track collaborators—David Byrne, Caetano Veloso and Greg Saunier, Mirah Zeitlyn and Paris Hurley, Nels Cline, Craig Wedren, Carla Bozulich, Zac Pennington and SoKo, and Dawn McCarthy—makes that an obvious circle to draw. The project’s own PR points out that its “creation was informed by Jherek’s history of playing in indie bands (Parenthetical Girls, Xiu Xiu, The Dead Science and more), a fervent desire to make great pop music and a love affair with the potential of the orchestra.”

Now, if I never had to hear another clichéd discussion of “blurring genre lines” again, I would sleep just fine at night, but in this case it strikes me how comfortably Bischoff’s music achieves his stated goals—mixing and matching stylistic elements of both worlds and ending up with something uniquely his rather than just a gloss of orchestral color decorating a rock band. More than that, however, what really makes this orchestral song cycle stand out to my ear is the diverse range of timbral color the vocalists brings to their tracks (a few of which were co-written by the singer alongside Bischoff). Taken as an album-length work, the collection of unique voices Composed encompasses as part of its scheme is impressive; that it all comes together so seamlessly is a credit to the strength of Bischoff’s singular one.

Beneath these distinctive actors, the orchestra lays out an occasionally pointed but more often lush and sweeping sound bed, remarkable considering how it was assembled. According to the composer, the album was written on the ukulele and then recorded one instrument at a time using a single microphone and a laptop, with Bischoff traveling house-to-house (via bicycle, no less) to capture each part in various musicians’ living rooms. Aside from being an adorable backstory, it also makes Composed an interesting compositional project: a deep bag of puzzle pieces later assembled by the composer into (DIY-affordable) sonic images as memorable for their clever lyrical content as they are for the places their musical lines travel. Whether it’s the rhythms in “The Secret Of The Machines,” the harmonies of “Eyes,” or the tempos in the sparing duet that is “Young And Lovely,” each song is playing a game just a little more startling than anticipated. It’s an easy stretch of the ear that keeps things exciting, not a breach of expectation so severe that it provokes an aural confrontation. And if you find yourself inspired to sway along in time, I suspect the orchestra won’t mind the impromptu accompaniment.

Don’t Miss a Beat: Adventures with the Berkeley Symphony

Posted on May 18, 2012 by Sidney Chen - Field Reports, Headlines

The big news stepping into Berkeley Symphony’s final mainstage concert of the season on April 26 was that Joana Carneiro, the orchestra’s music director since 2009, had just seriously injured her shoulder and needed two months recuperation time. That this was one of the orchestra’s four concerts in the 2000-seat Zellerbach Hall on the UC Berkeley campus would have caused concern enough, but the centerpiece of the program was the world premiere of Holy Sisters, a Berkeley Symphony commission from Gabriela Lena Frank, for orchestra, soprano Jessica Rivera, and the San Francisco Girls Chorus. This set the scene for the last-minute arrival from Chicago of conductor Edwin Outwater, who tweeted obliquely the morning before the concert:

West, unexpectedly.
— Edwin Outwater (@eoutwater) April 25, 2012

The Berkeley Symphony, which was founded in 1969, became known under three decades of Kent Nagano’s leadership for its commitment to contemporary music; in the last ten seasons they have received ASCAP Adventurous Programming Awards eight times. The orchestra has continued in this direction under Carneiro, announcing on Wednesday four commissions—by Steven Stucky, Dylan Mattingly, Andreia Pinto-Correia, and Paul Dresher—scheduled for the 2012/13 season.

There was a particularly personal connection for Carneiro, Rivera, and Frank behind the commission of Holy Sisters. One transcendently lovely section had initially been written by Frank and sung by Rivera as a secret gift at Carneiro’s wedding. Frank, who is an East Bay native and currently serves as the orchestra’s creative advisor, gave a spoken introduction to the 20-minute work with her characteristic ebullience by telling the personal stories behind the commission and the selection of texts about five Biblical women: Mary Magdalene, Rachel, Sarah, Miriam, and Hannah. (Jesse Hamlin wrote a nice preview piece featuring interviews with Carneiro, Frank, and Rivera for San Francisco Classical Voice in which the depth of their relationship comes through.) Frank also spoke about how the portion that was being premiered was the first part of what will eventually become a larger work, with the second half, Holy Daughters, scheduled to be premiered in May 2013 as part of the San Francisco Girls Chorus’ season.

Frank juggles limes (Warning: This video features squealing)Given Frank’s personal introduction, the audience was made even more appreciative of Outwater’s effort, stepping into a premiere performance with two days’ notice, having studied the scores on his iPad. (Bartók’s Music for Strings, Percussion and Celesta and Kodály’s Dances of Galánta filled out the program.) To Outwater’s credit, the orchestra—a combination of professionals and clearly very skilled community musicians—played remarkably well, especially under a conductor whom they had only just met the day before the concert. The San Francisco Girls Chorus, impeccably prepared, as always, provided a backdrop and commentary to Rivera’s lyrical and committed delivery. I am looking forward to hearing what direction Frank will take the music in the work’s second half next season. (If you can’t wait all the way until then to hear what’s already been written, this concert will be broadcast on KALW on September 16, 2012.)

Carneiro’s injury also necessitated a substitution for another Berkeley Symphony concert a few days later, for their second Under Construction concert of the season. The Under Construction Composers Program, open to composers in the San Francisco Bay Area, began as a public reading series but has recently evolved into a more developed mentorship program, where selected composers work for a year with Frank on the creation of a new orchestral work. There was an initial public session in January (which I wasn’t able to attend) where sketches were presented and read; on April 29 the completed works were performed, publicly rehearsed, and performed again.

Paul Dresher introducing the Under Construction concert

The three composers selected for this season were Nils Bultmann, Evelyn Ficarra and Noah Luna. Each wrote a piece of about ten minutes in length, which the full orchestra performed under the direction of Ming Luke, the orchestra’s education director and associate conductor. Paul Dresher, a fellow Bay Area composer who is being commissioned for next season, was on hand to introduce the event at St. John’s Presbyterian Church, where, he added, he had produced Lou Harrison’s 60th birthday concert in 1977. (A recording of that historic performance can be heard via the Other Minds Audio Archive.)

Noah Luna addressing the orchestra during the open rehearsal

Dresher mentioned that the Under Construction program was an opportunity he wishes he had had himself, and one could immediately hear why. The orchestra gave surprisingly and commendably clean performances of these three works—again, under someone other than Carneiro’s direction and just three days after the Holy Sisters premiere. The three works were contrasting and complementary. Luna took full advantage of the large orchestra to write a lush and layered tone poem. Ficarra explored colors and textures by having, for example, the string instruments tapped with fingertips and then moving to fingernails, and having multiple wind players put air through their instruments audibly without playing notes. Bultmann chose to write a more virtuosic, tonal piece that focused on rhythmic play. The symphony is accepting applications for next season’s program; the deadline is June 1 (PDF application).

***

Amy X Neuburg at BAM/PFA

Speaking of Lou Harrison, I am sorely disappointed that I will be out of town for a performance of Harrison’s La Koro Sutro at the Berkeley Art Museum on Friday, May 25, as part of the L@TE: Friday Nights at BAM/PFA series, programmed by Sarah Cahill. The last performance on this series I went to on April 13 was Amy X Neuburg’s Spaces Out with guest Moe! Staiano and a 30-voice chorus. Both Neuburg and Staiano had written new pieces for the chorus (Inbred Kisses and Having Never Written A Vocal Piece, respectively) that made use of the unusual space and its multiple performance levels. But ultimately Neuburg’s wonderfully witty and captivating solo pieces like Every Little Stain and Finally Black (some of her “greatest hits” for those who have been following her for a while), in which she samples and loops herself live and lets loose her amazing range and tonal flexibility, were the most memorable works of the evening.

The Kids Are Alright: The Texas Young Composers Concert

Posted on May 7, 2012 by AndrewSigler - Field Reports, Headlines

When I was in high school, most of my free time was spent figuring out Van Halen licks, not writing orchestral music. I played classical guitar a bit and spent two years in juvenile detention at Tickle The Ivories Penitentiary, so I had some familiarity with the little black dots. However, for any number of reasons, the idea of composing never occurred to me. Who was I to put those things in order? This is apparently a question that never came to mind for the nine students who were chosen from across Texas to have their works performed at the Austin Symphony Orchestra’s second annual Texas Young Composers Concert. Still, even the night’s first composer Jack Roberts understood that this set him apart. “Writing music is just not a normal thing for a kid to do,” he acknowledged.

2012 Texas Young Composers Concert Winners with Joe R. Long (center) and ASO Executive Director Anthony Corroa (right). Photo by Don Hill.

Roberts’s Into the West was the opening work of the evening and was introduced by the composer via a short video projected above the orchestra. Similar videos preceded each piece and provided not only information about the background of the composer and the generation of the work, but also insight into the maturity and character of each artist. I’ve often said that I’m a very lucky guy to have not grown up in the YouTube age[1], but I can’t help but wonder if a sense of constant observation might speak to the high level of maturity and eloquence on display in these presentations. Bursting in all its pentatonic glory, Into the West put on display a number of tropes from the best of the old Westerns. Bright leaping horns held the door open for sad strings, all of it culminating in a triumphant ending.

Austin’s Jocelyn Chambers told a story of staring at a blank Sibelius screen, warmed over John Williams themes created and erased, while her grandfather played piano in another room. From among the lines coming from the piano, a Bb, Ab, and G spoke to her and became the germinal motive for her work My Heart. A largely melancholy composition with a number of dramatic transitions and a glimmer of hope in the woodwinds, My Heart was an impressive show for the youngest of the night’s composers.

Garrett Tatum’s Paradise—Paradise Lost had a strong declamatory opening, great brass voicings, and rich string scoring, all leading to a playful waltz which occasionally straddled the line between whole tone and diatonic. Contrasts by Wells Leng was just that, relative to Tatum’s work. A slow entrance in the winds paved the way for odd-time, ostinato, pentatonic material treated polyphonically at first but also leaving space for a number of solo sections. Trevor Villwock’s When I Woke Up in the Forest wrapped up the first half of the show with Tchaikovskian orchestration and a focus on the flute.

Bleak Dawn by Behnam Arzaghi was the most contemplative work of the evening. A broad harmonic language and long lingering lines set the stage for a more focused mix of Persian folk tunes and lyrical melodies which played hide and seek in the texture. Brennan Anderson’s Downfall Rising was a fantasy narrative of sorts, complete with peasants, heroes, and villains drawn from his experience in writing music for video games. (I should mention that although this was the first time I’ve actually met Brennan in person, I’ve corresponded with him ever since he approached me for an internship a few years back. We weren’t able to make it work at the time but we’ve kept in touch, and I was happy to see that he’d made better use of his time than running to get coffee for me.) Brandon Maahs’s Song of Love and Joy, the first movement from his Symphony No. 1, had a number of compelling features, including thoughtful string orchestration, use of 7/8, and arguably the most thunderous “Kaboom Ending!” of the evening. Finally, Jared Beu’s Affirmation featured varied and rich harmonic language, strong changes of mood, and a wonderful interplay of harmonies in the brass and flourishes in the woodwinds.

Let me tell you, if you want to see some proud parents (and hear some great tunes!) then be sure to check out next year’s show. Music Director Peter Bay and the orchestra put all of their forces to bear on these works, and when the composers (dressed to the nines in everything from tuxedos to Charlie Chaplin bowlers—I’m looking at you Brennan) were acknowledged in the boxes…well, let’s just say if you could harness the beaming power of those parents, you could power the country for a month. Or the East Coast leg of the Fair Warning tour.

***

1. There are quite enough thoroughly embarrassing still photos. Thanks, Dad.

What Makes It Mavericky? The San Francisco Symphony Celebrates 100 Years

Posted on April 5, 2012 by Sidney Chen - Field Reports, Headlines

SOLO FOR VOICE 88
DIRECTIONS
Leave the stage through the audience returning to the stage without leaving the theatre. Do this very slowly.

The San Francisco Symphony has been celebrating its centennial season this year with a slew of ambitious programs, including the return of its American Mavericks festival. In June 2000, six seasons into Michael Tilson Thomas’s tenure as music director, the symphony presented ten programs of 20th-century American music, a massive effort that has had a lasting impact on the identity of the orchestra. (A 150-page book that was published in conjunction with that festival can be downloaded free as a PDF here.) Last month’s festival featured five programs—three comprising primarily orchestral repertoire; two, chamber works—performed at Davies Symphony Hall in San Francisco, some of which then went on tour to Chicago, Ann Arbor, and New York.

Big disclaimer up front: As a member of Meredith Monk & Vocal Ensemble, I performed in Monk’s Realm Variations, one of the four works commissioned for the festival, and toured with the orchestra.

SOLO FOR VOICE 26
DIRECTIONS
Play a game of solitaire (or play both or all sides of a game ordinarily involving two or more players).

The term “maverick” has obviously taken on other connotations in the intervening 12 years, so Tilson Thomas took pains to define what makes a composer mavericky in his estimation. In the video below (one of a series of engaging YouTube clips put together for the festival), he says it means “somebody who is pushing boundaries and exploring new sounds—made by traditional instruments, by introducing entirely new instruments, by using the vocabulary of electronics and now sounds generated through computer technology.” The 17 composers selected to represent this maverick approach to music-making are now familiar names to most listeners: Ives, Ruggles, Varèse, Cowell, Copland, Partch, Cage, Harrison, Foss, Feldman, Subotnick, Riley, Reich, Del Tredici, Monk, Adams, and Mason Bates.

In a separate statement, Tilson Thomas added, “What many of these composers have in common is their association with California, with the San Francisco Bay Area. …San Francisco has always been known for its independent, left-of-center spirit.” Indeed, that sense of nonconformity is one San Francisco value that is treasured by those who live here. The affection of the audience towards their hometown band, throwing its full weight behind a festival highlighting unconventional repertoire, was noticeable in both the attendance and the response to the performances.

Monk (singing), Norman (typing), Tilson Thomas (chopping) perform work by John Cage. Photo by Kristen Loken.

SOLO FOR VOICE 46
DIRECTIONS
Prepare something to eat.

The marquee event of the series was arguably the production of John Cage’s Song Books, performed by the improbable trio of vocalists Joan La Barbara, Monk, and Jessye Norman, together with Tilson Thomas and eight musicians from the symphony, and staged by L.A.-based director Yuval Sharon. The Song Books from 1970 are subtitled “Solos for Voice 3 – 92,” but that simple description does not begin to convey the range of what the performers are asked to do or how a performance might be constructed. (James M. Keller’s program notes can be found here.) In the first San Francisco performance, the work was greeted with great enthusiasm overall, along with great confusion in some corners and great consternation in others. It certainly didn’t fail to elicit a response. The production was also performed in Ann Arbor and on the large stage at Carnegie Hall, and perusing the Internet will reveal many discussions and questions centered on whether it was Cageian enough in its execution: Is Tilson Thomas making a smoothie in a blender too shtick-y? Was Norman too operatic? And so on. For my part, I’m just happy that the San Francisco Symphony chose to present this marvelously inventive work on a large-enough scale to trigger these discussions.

SOLO FOR VOICE 51
DIRECTIONS
Play a recording of a forest fire.

The challenge of performing the Maverick repertoire is you really have to throw yourself into it, sometimes doing things that can seem totally off-the-wall. …Anything goes, what the hell—we’ll just go for it. And that’s a quality that San Francisco Symphony definitely has.—Tilson Thomas

The orchestral works were programmed to the symphony’s strengths: outsized pieces like Varèse’s Amériques unleashed the crazy that SFS does exceptionally well. (It was also one of several opportunities throughout the festival to shine a spotlight on the percussion section, which was charged with everything from Reich’s Music for Pieces of Wood to Harrison’s Concerto for Organ with Percussion Orchestra, performed with organist Paul Jacobs.) Likewise, Absolute Jest, a new work by John Adams for string quartet and orchestra (premiered here by the St. Lawrence String Quartet), gave the musicians an opportunity to amp up the energy level in the room well past the standards of normalcy.

Paul Jacobs (organ), Mason Bates (electronica), Donato Cabrera (conductor) and the San Francisco Symphony Chorus in Bates’s Mass Transmission. Photo by Kristen Loken

SOLO FOR VOICE 63
DIRECTIONS
Engage in some other activity than you did in Solos 8, 24, 28, and 62 (if any one of these was performed).

Along with Absolute Jest, three other works were commissioned by the symphony for this festival: Monk’s Realm Variations, for six voices and seven instruments; Subotnick’s Jacob’s Room: Monodrama, for vocalist Joan La Barbara, electronics, and chamber ensemble; and Bates’s Mass Transmission, for organ, electronics, and the San Francisco Symphony Chorus (a beloved institution in its own right). It escaped no one’s attention that of the 17 composers included in this festival, there was only one woman and only one who was born within the last 60 years. In the case of Bates, this placed the somewhat unfortunate burden on his approachable and un-thorny piece of having to represent the Maverick Spirit for all American composers who are not yet eligible for Social Security benefits.

PARTCH, photo courtesy of sfmike

SOLO FOR VOICE 15
DIRECTIONS
Using a typewriter equipped with contact microphones, typewrite the following statement by Erik Satie thirty-eight times:
L’artiste n’a pas le droit de disposer inutilement du temps de son auditeur.
[The artist does not have the right to waste his listener’s time.]

Apart from the orchestral performances were two chamber music programs featuring members of the orchestra in various configurations, as well as outside artists. These more intimate performances allowed for some of the more unusual and enchanting sounds of the festival. Jeremy Denk drew out a large palette of unexpected colors in his performance of five solo piano works by Cowell, which called for stroking the length of the strings, strumming them like a harp, and inexplicably bringing forth melodies via cluster chords played with fists. And I wonder when we’ll ever have another chance to hear in Davies the sounds of the extraordinary instruments brought by the multitalented Los Angeles-based PARTCH, for their theatrical performances of Barstow and other works by the ultimate maverick Harry Partch.

Empty oxygen tanks, used as bells for Harrison’s Concerto for Organ and Percussion Orchestra. Photo by Annie Phillips, San Francisco Symphony

SOLO FOR VOICE 35
DIRECTIONS
The text is from the first paragraph of the Essay on Civil Disobedience by Henry David Thoreau. Sing in an optimistic spirit as though you believe what you are singing… Before singing this solo, raise either the black flag of Anarchy or the flag of the Whole Earth.

With five full programs of repertoire, there are too many moments that necessarily go unmentioned in a recap like this. Even so, I can’t let the mesmerizingly quiet and beautiful performance of Feldman’s Piano and Orchestra with Emanuel Ax fly completely under the radar. Juxtaposing it with the sheer decibel power of Amériques made for a wonderful and wild evening, in which all sounds seemed possible. Coming out of that concert reminded me of one of the most striking moments of the Song Books performance, when Monk came forth to declaim:

The best form of government is no government at all….
The b-b-b-b-b-b-best form is no f-f-f-form at all….
And that will be what we will have
When we are ready for it.

The San Francisco Symphony has announced plans to record three of the works from the festival next season, for release on their own label: Lou Harrison’s Concerto for Organ with Percussion Orchestra, with Paul Jacobs; Cowell’s Piano Concerto, with Jeremy Denk; and Carl Ruggles’s Sun-treader. If you need a Ruggles fix before then, Other Minds has just released the 1980 CBS Masterworks recording The Complete Music of Carl Ruggles with Tilson Thomas conducting the Buffalo Phiharmonic.

Sidney Chen

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