Monday, August 29, 2005

Pharewell

Goodbye Philly! Thanks for the memories!

Things I will miss:
1) Family and friends
2) Eagles games
3) Cheesesteaks
4) Sitting in Rittenhouse with coffee from La Colombe
5) Tree-lined streets with rowhouses
6) All of my wonderful choral groups

Things I will not miss:
1) South Eastern Pennsylvania Transit Authority
2) Rudeness
3) Awful summer humidity (with no AC!)
4) Running to rehearsal after a full day of work
5) Expensive beer

Thursday, August 25, 2005

Handel?

Okay, so I really like Handel now. I think for so long my view of Handel was shaped by the post- World War II-super-slow-treat-it-like-a-museum-piece approach. This music is so human and so passionate, and that does not come across at all when it is bogged down with inarticulate lush playing and heavy and slow vocalism. I don't think Handel is as multi-layered as Bach, in fact I don't think anyone is as multi-layered as Bach. But when Handel is really done well, there's this noble beauty where time stops, much as in Mozart's best moments. It's simply the sustain of a powerful emotional moment as only a true dramatic composer can do. I see a lot of parallels between Handel and Mozart. No matter what they are writing it's influenced by the theater. And is our job as performers to bring out that theatricality. This is why I so enjoyed doing 'Messiah' with Nicholas McGegan: he made it seem like an opera with all of these different emotional contrasts. And that's what Handel is all about really.

On a side note, Radiohead is recording again. Hurrah! And what's more is I found out from another classical music blog. It seems as if much of the classical community is beginning to embrace Radiohead as the big hope of contemporary popular music (though they're not really "pop" at all). I've been arguing for awhile Radiohead is creating music that's as interesting as a lot of contemporary "classical" music. I wait with bated breath...

Sunday, August 21, 2005

Three recent articles in the New York Times of note:

It's nice to see Belfast highlighted as a tourist destination. I've been telling everyone how much I liked it since I visited last summer. I was impressed with how generous the people were - they were so happy to have Americans coming to visit their city. I found it much more satisfying than Dublin, which was overrun with American tourists and very crowded. In Belfast, we felt as if we had the city to ourselves. In some ways, Belfast felt like an equivalent to Baltimore - port cities that have had difficult times but which are in the midst of revitalization. Still, it's worth going on a "black cab tour" to get a sense of the divided neighborhoods and to see the murals highlighting the Troubles of the past 40 years.

All the talk in Philly lately (besides the Terrell Owens situation) has been about this article calling our city "the sixth borough" of New York City. Are people just finding out about Philly now? We had a ball making fun of the future Philadelphians who will have to deal with our expensive booze and early bar closings, sorely lacking public transit system, smoking in restaurants and bars, and the legions of Eagles fans. Don't get me wrong, I love Philly, but it could be a shock for those expecting the comforts of New York.

And finally another interesting "State of the Classical Music World" article. The article mentions various marketing strategies by major orchestras to attract younger audiences, which include multimedia presentations, free food and shorter more accessible programs. This raises a few questions for me: If people are initiated into classical music this way, do you think they'll expect this all the time? Can they be weaned off of the multimedia presentation and appreciate the music for what it is? The primary reason for all of this is education. People need to learn about classical music before they will willingly shell out money to attend concerts. I think Simon Woods' (formerly of the Philadelphia Orchestra) analogy comparing classical music to museum education is interesting. The difference is that music, while it may be centuries old, is recreated every time we perform. It is a living, breathing artform. How do we as musicians get people to realize that what they're seeing is a truly unique experience? I think it is easy enough to get people to attend a concert, but how do we get them to attend that second or third time?

Thursday, August 18, 2005

Berkshire Recap

I’m not even sure where to begin my summary of BCF. So much was compressed into 5 weeks that it’s quite difficult to summarize it effectively. I am glad that BCF lived up to my expectations (expectations arrived at rather hastily as I applied for the position on a whim rather late). I love it when a plan comes together.

In a way, this program was all about acquaintances - faculty, my fellow apprentices, 5 very different but gifted conductors, 1,000 choristers, and the music of some great composers. In addition to all of the music, I was thankful to be around such an easy going and fun group. It really made the weeks go fast and not seem as tiring.

In regard to my fellow apprentices, you never know what you’ll get for colleagues when you are all thrown together from different places in a cramped, hot dormitory for a few weeks. I think this group had a good chemistry, with each person bringing something different musically and socially. I especially enjoyed our four recitals and appreciate their professionalism and musicality. It was good for me to meet some people my age who are multi-talented as singers, conductors and pianists. That’s one of the things I took away from this - that my diversity of musical interests could be a good thing because it means that I have more possibilities to pursue.

It was great meeting and working with all of the conductors and finding out how they got to where they are now. Most of them had multiple interests and did not follow a prescribed path. They realized they had a particular talent or a particular love and so utilized it to begin to make a career. This was another reinforcement idea for me - there is no specific path that we must follow as musicians. We must simply do what seems right and what seems like it may help us in where we are going. It takes a special kind of conductor to accept the challenge that BCF offers: to prepare a major choral/orchestral concert with 250 volunteer choristers whose performing ability you know nothing about in the span of a week with only 2 orchestral rehearsals.

I am glad to have rediscovered my voice. Singing 6 hours a day for five weeks, I was able to gather some focus and really concentrate on my voice. I haven’t had to work that hard in awhile, but in many ways, I feel as if I’m singing batter now than I have in awhile.. I’ve missed the immersion that happens in a summer program or an academic atmosphere. It was so hard for me to make any growth working in an office, spending much of my time commuting and only singing at night after a long day. I am hoping that some of my momentum will be carried through to York. I enjoyed working on repertoire again and having the chance to perform something for an audience multiple times. The choristers were very vocal about their appreciation and sometimes it was good to get a sort of "man on the street" opinion about my performances.

So I guess this kind of sounds like an advertisement for BCF, but that’s okay. As our artistic and executive directors suggested in our farewell brunch: Pay it forward.

Monday, August 15, 2005

Now for some rest (sort of)

BCF finished with a rousing (i.e. loud) performance of Verdi's 'Four Sacred Pieces' and the Prologue to Boito's 'Mefistofele' on Saturday night. Yesterday was for striking the stage and a farewell brunch. Tomorrow I'm back in Philly. Look for a more in depth reflection on BCF sometime soon. For now I'm enjoying not having 6 hours of rehearsal a day and having my own bathroom!

Monday, August 08, 2005

Tanglewood (Parts II and III)

I caught two more Tanglewood concerts this weekend - Friday with BSO, Ingo Metzmacher and Matthias Goerne doing Mahler's "Des Knaben Wunderhorn" songs and Stravinksy's "Firebird" suite and Sunday morning with a program of contemporary music at Ozawa Hall featuring my former teacher William Sharp.

Goerne was as good as the last time I saw him a few years ago, and I enjoyed hearing him with a full orchestra (he was miked up though since it's an outdoor space...). He's such a dynamic and interesting performer and breaks all of the recital rules that I discussed in my last post. Goerne (and Ian Bostridge now that I think about it) kind of propel themselves around the stage, letting the music take them. My impression of Goerne is that he looks like a boxer, with his movement, his sturdy build and his strange habit of touching his nose before phrases. He is such an original artist that he does not need to worry about "spots on the wall" or addressing the audience; he simply does what the music tells him to do at any given moment. It doesn't hurt that he is a brilliant vocal colorist with a beautiful mixed voice and the ability to sing a smooth and purposeful musical line. That's really what's going on here: he is able to achieve all of his artistic objectives vocally, so why worry about the physical stuff?

I also enjoyed the Stravinsky - the BSO seems to be having some sort of Stravinsky mini-fest this summer. I like "Rite of Spring" better than "Firebird" but you can already hear the rhythmic impetus and instrumental coloring that form the core of the later work. The orchestra sounded a bit rougher this week, which could have been due to a number of reasons.

Sunday's concert was terrific. It featured pieces by Steven Mackey, George Perle, Yehudi Wyner and Nicholas Maw, all of whom were in attendance. The performers were student fellows at the Tanglewood Music Center. I think the presence of the composers drove the performers to travel that extra mile and it was a pretty exciting atmosphere. Mackey had two pieces on the program, a new piece called 'Gathering' and an older piece entitled 'Indigenous Instruments'. Unfortunately I couldn't really hear the first piece as we were a bit late and I was oustide waiting to take my seat. What I could hear I liked, as it featured the unusual instrument combination of trombones, harp, marimba and two female singers. The second piece, which closed the program, is a kind of imagined world music which featured unusual tunings and instrumental effects to create something odd-sounding. It was very creatively done and vibrantly played by the student musicians. The Perle piece, 'Critical Moments 2', featured some pretty kick-ass percussion writing and was made up of a series of intense short pieces. The instrumental colour and rhythmic drive made it very exciting to listen to. The Wyner was a virtuosic duet for clarinet and piano and the interplay between the two performers was great to watch. My favourite piece was probably the Maw (a Peabody composition prof) which featured my former teacher William Sharp. The text was by Robert Browning and the scoring was for voice, flute, harp and viola. It is a seamless text setting which ebbs and flows with the emotions of youthful love present in the poem. Maw is a natural vocal composer and the score featured moments of Romanticism but with colourful modern harmonies. Mr. Sharp was masterful, and the architecture and beauty of the text really came through. His voice blended very well with the student musicians and there were many moments of intense beauty. It's definitely a piece I would enjoy hearing again.

I'm so glad I've had a chance to get to Tanglewood a few times this summer, it really is one of America's musical treasures and is a hotbed for young talent. It almost made me want to apply to be a TMC fellow sometime in the future...

Link

Saturday, August 06, 2005

Masterclasses

I'm a bit skeptical of masterclasses and to begin with, because a masterclass teacher has no way of knowing who you really are artistically and what sort of challenges you've faced musically, vocally and mentally. Still, masterclass teachers do not have any biases and may pick up on things other teachers have let slide. Under this web of skepticism I subjected myself to two masterclasses this week, one in conducting and one in voice. For the conducting masterclass I prepared two bits from this week's repertoire, the opening choruses from both the Purcell 'Come Ye Sons of Art' and the Tippett 'A Child Of Our Time'. I picked the Tippett chorus because I thought within the context of the larger, more thorny work, the opening chorus presented fewer musical challenges for the choir. I also thought that since it was the opening chorus that there would be a larger likelihood that it was covered in rehearal by the Tuesday afternoon masterclass. These assumptions were both right, but there was also the small detail that this movement contains a lengthy orchestral introduction. I came prepared with the introduction but was hoping I wouldn't need to conduct it, given my general squeamishness about my orchestral conducting ablities. It was made easier since I was only conducting our talented piano accompanist, but I was sure I would be ripped apart for making un-orchestral like gestures. Sure enough I had to conduct the whole introduction. It was a good exercise and I felt like I rose to the challenge, but it also made me realize I have a ton of work to do before I ever step in front of an orchestra. The masterclass teacher (names withheld for a number of reasons), had obviously worked with conducting students before since he knew when to be critical and when to lay off. He very quickly and accurately diagnosed some of my bad habits and worked with my gesture to achieve some variance according to the shape of the music. Strangely enough he told me I needed to breathe more for the choir, which was a surprise since that's all we did at WCC! It was a real treat watching him conduct the same repertoire with the orchestra later in the week and seeing how he responded to the challenges I faced in the music. This was the best example of learning by watching, which I think is the most valuable thing BCF has provided me in the past 4 weeks. Thursday brought the week's second masterclasses. I sang the Schubert piece I have been working on. The masterclass teacher had a lot to say and was very enthusiastic. She gave me some different perspectives about the dramatic contrasts in the song. I (and many other singers) have to be reminded that even though we know what the subtext is, it may not be easily apparent to the audience. The first part of the song features a narrator, a device I always struggle with as a singer: How much is direct storytelling to the audience and how much just painting the scene? (another post is waiting to be written about my impressions of Matthias Goerne, who I saw sing Mahler 'Knaben Wunderhorn' at Tanglewood last night. He's an especially gifted storyteller in song). In this song I tend towards painting the scene, but when called upon to tell the story directly (which felt rather artificial), found that the audience responded much more receptively. I'm frustrated to find that I still suffer from that student phenomenon of singing to a spot in the back of the room. Why do I still do that? I do think I am more comfortable with my musicianship at this stage. I think I've gained more confidence in my artistic personality in the past two years, since I've also gained more confidence in myself. I guess I still need to ponder my artistic presentation and integrate some of the confidence into it. But back to the masterclass. In addition to the dramatic things, we also worked on some vocal things. I can't say that I found these as helpful. This teacher is a very visceral singer and was trying to bring more of that out of me. We did an exercise in which we grasped hands and pulled hard in opposite directions while I was singing. This was to get me to physically feel the musical line. I did find that it caused my breath to drop lower since I was working so hard, but also found that it put undue stress upon my voice. My sound did get bigger, but I think it was because I was really pressing my cords together and forcing a lot of air through. I appreciate the exercise, but I do not think it was the ideal thing for an égalisé (light, balanced) voice such as mine. My new theory behind singing is that it's all based on acoustics. Because the voice creates overtones not found in instruments, a singer can create a sound that carries without much work, provided the air and the resonance are lined up just right. And so this sensation of working really hard to carry the musical line and singing from a sort of "primal" place doesn't really work for me. I guess that's something I'll have to think about when working with my next teacher. I imagine that I must be challenging to teach, since I am constantly thinking like a voice teacher and trying to anticipate what the teacher is going to say. Hopefully my analytical skills will be helpful in my own teaching. And when I have young students who try to teach themselves, I'll realize how annoying I must have been in my own student voice lessons!