I'm here for Microwave Cookery

On a “musical thrill-ride” of a concert where “fistfuls of piano notes” were “pitted against [a] full-throttle orchestra” in front of “1,941 concertgoers” and…well, no less than the “interaction of such electrifying sonic events with our senses invigorate(d) and inspire(d), providing sustenance for both body and soul,” the Springfield Symphony Orchestra performed Gershwin (yeah!) and Rachmaninoff (double yeah!!). 

Concert review: Springfield Symphony Orchestra shines with Rachmaninoff’s piano concerto

Clinton Noble Jr., April 14, 2013, The Republican (MassLive.com)

But wait, there's more!

The meat in the expatriate sandwich (as it were)…

I’m not sure Gershwin could be called an expatriate because of, you know, the definition of the word.

…was...

Yeah?!

...Walter Piston's...

Whoa? Who the fuck is Walter Piston? 

figure Walter Piston:  "I'll give you a TKO from Tokyo!"

...was Walter Piston's Fourth Symphony, penned in 1950 for the centenary of the University of Minnesota, and as American as apple pie.

If it weren't for the pure Rachmaninoffian awesomeness on the second half, I know I'd be long gone.  I've got a connection to the interwebs...let's see what I can find out.  

Well, first, Walter Piston actually lived in France for over 2 years.  I don't know why I care about this expatriate meme, but I just do.

And (b), his symphony is “American as apple pie”?  Because he’s an American?  Does this mean I'm going to like his symphony?  Because, you know, Harry Partch was born in America too.  In fact, his music began a complete rejection of European concert tradition (or so Wikipedia tells me).  What could be more apple pie-ish than that?

I really don't know what to think.  My gut is telling me that this Piston piece is music I've never heard, and therefore awful.  But my brain is confused by your American comment.  America is the greatest country god ever gave man, but on the other hand there's Eric Whitacre.  

 figure gift:  The greatest music god ever gave America.  

Unfamiliar American composer…it just doesn't add up.

Rhodes gave a brief spoken introduction to the piece and played its opening theme, marked “Piacevole,”…

I don't know...'piacevole' doesn't sound very Merican to me.

…or “pleasing” by the composer, before giving a scrupulously rehearsed and deeply expressive reading of the entire work.

Sounds quite punctilious.  But I guess I’m still hung up on this "I've never heard of him" thing.  

“I know when audiences see a composer they don’t recognize on the program, they think ‘Oh, no! what’s this going to be like?’” Rhodes admitted.

Thank you.  That's what I've been trying to say.  Let's just put some Beethoven on this concert and be done with it.

Piston offered nothing scary to the concertgoer, Rhodes further quipped,…

Scary? As in American, or not-American?

figure book: Chapter 1: Don't Write Scary Music

…adding that he doesn't play “scary” pieces because he doesn't like them, either.

Yeah.  Who the fuck likes “scary” pieces?

Light-hearted as that sentiment might seem on the surface, it is a very telling commentary on the excesses of the previous century.

Or the biases of narrow-minded musical midgets.  Wait…was that uncalled for?

Nope, you’re probably right.  Those asshat 20^th century composers totally ruined music.  If I don’t recognize the name of the composer (gasp!) then who knows sort of unclean sounds could enter my virginal ears.

Indeed, as Rhodes asserted, works by Piston and other Americans like him, Hanson, Schuman, Thomson, et al., became eclipsed by the music of the intelligentsia and the academic avant garde, and never achieved the recognition that their content and construction merited, because they were perceived as appealing, therefore populist, and second-rate.

Their awesome music was eclipsed by the awful music that no one likes?  How on earth did that happen?

Rhodes and the SSO are shedding long overdue daylight on some terrific music that is as exciting to listen to as it is to play, and their 21st-audience is grateful.

I know there's a lesson here about not judging the music of composers you're unfamiliar with, but...

It's very easy to criticize...And it's fun, too!

Everyone knows that classical music attained perfection in 1873.  It's a scientific fact.  Why people persist in expressing independent thoughts about music after then is beyond me.  

Review: Symphony’s chamber program falls short

Ken Keaton, Palm Beach Daily News, Feb. 20, 2013

That's too bad.  Unispired programming, less than perfect performances...I wonder who or what might be to blame?

In 1918, Arnold Schoenberg...

Wait.  That Arnold Schoenberg?

...(yes, that Arnold Schoenberg)…

Yes?

…founded the Society for Private Musical Performances in Vienna.

This is true. 

His purpose was to present modern music to small audiences in a chamber setting, and often he or his students would arrange larger orchestral works for a chamber ensemble.

I can see now why you mention Schoenberg's society. Chamber ensembles in chamber settings?  Bor-ing.

He believed that hearing the notes in a more transparent setting would make the music easier to understand.

Okay, that sounds like an interesting premise. So...?

Though Schoenberg is best known for breaking the tonal system…

Well, crap.  I can't afford a new tonal system. 

…by creating a new musical language, his efforts were not limited to the most avant-garde works.

Oh, inherent bias, where would we be without you?

Article loads more fun to read than it must have been to write

Chamber Series puffs up to symphony strength

Naples Daily News, March 5, 2013

In a small, but musical, community a pick up orchestra performed Beethoven's Seventh Symphony.  It's a difficult work for even the most esteemed orchestras, what with its lack of clean, clear solos, spice-less phrasing, and the preponderance of multimeasure notes.

The work is forged from four movements actually praised for their dance attributes,...

I know, pssh...

figure 1:  Beethoven composing a symphony.  And saving the universe from, oh, let's say Juggernaut?

But what does it mean?

...meaning it’s nearly impossible not to shake your head or sway at some point.

That actually sounds true.

The grandly dark second movement even lends itself to headbanging, if you’re channeling ‘80 rock culture.

figure 2: The perfect analogy.

The woodwinds gifted the piece with clean, clear solos, and the flutes shot deliciously peppery phrases into the third movement. Its ubiquitous timpani sounded like loads more fun to play than it must have been.

What's not to like about that description about the otherwise bland, yet arduous 7th symphony.

A dozen violins and about nine of the lower-registers were making lush music, throwing phrases from upper to lower and holding a marathon multimeasure note behind the other sections in the final movement.

In case that was unclear, the lush throwing music is right after the end of the beginning of the middle.

The secondary theme of the Second Movement seemed to pose a few challenges in tone for the violins. Still, this section sailed through the treacherous finale so nimbly and happily the uninitiated would never know this isn’t a standing orchestra with a full schedule.

figure 3: Happily the uninitiated would never know that he's not fingering a real chord.

Sounds like a pretty incredible performance.  And for a pick-up orchestra!  Is there some sort of outrageous claim you can make that will perfectly sum it all up?

We have heard this symphony live three times in the last four seasons — once from the Los Angeles Philharmonic — and this stands with the best of them.

Of course it does.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Do yourself a favor and read the entire article which includes gems like "...and each of its parts deserves to be savored, if only for 10 seconds, in our mental echo chambers."

Oversight(s)

Observer reviews, articles contained duplicated sentences

Charlotte Observer, 12/18/2012

At first I thought that the paper (or writer) had unintentionally printed the same sentence twice.  You know: in a row.

But no.

A freelance writer who wrote theater reviews and articles for the Observer from 2009 until this month repeated paragraphs from other publications in about a third of the articles she wrote for the Observer.

 Okay, a couple of things:

1) It took three years to figure this out?

2) Who wrote this correction?  No one -- not even "Charlotte Observer Staff" -- is willing to take attribution.

     a) Detritus Review Reader Challenge! Can you rearrange this sentence to be less clear? I don't think I can.

     b) "[A] third" is dreadful. In what writing guide, editorial style sheet, or first-year freshman composition course is "one-third" not merely preferred but mandated as correct?

    c) I would either use "[month] 2009 until this month" or "2009-12" (you can quibble about "2009-2012" if you like, but even though most newspapers are read electronically, AP style still places a premium on column-inches and prefers any truncated form as long as clarity is maintained).

These duplications violate the Observer’s ethical guidelines and contractual agreements with freelancers, which require that writers produce original material.

Look, I'm not out to cast aspersions on this writer, the name of whom I will omit. But let's not be afraid to use the word "plagiarism" when it's appropriate. In fact, one could argue that this is precisely the case for which the use of that particular word is reserved.

In the Observer’s review in April 2012 of “Stomp” at the Blumenthal Performing Arts Center’s Belk Theater, 13 of 16 sentences were the same as sentences in a review published in MIT’s The Tech in 2001. Among other reviews with duplicated paragraphs:...

Blah blah blah.

In some cases, the writer repeated a distinctive phrase from another publication; in others she duplicated multiple paragraphs verbatim.

Read more here: http://www.charlotteobserver.com/2012/12/18/3732343/observer-reviews-articles-contained.html#storylink=cpy

At first I was all like Jebus! at least plagiarize from Tommasini or Kosman or someone who knows how to, you know, write sentences and stuff (not that The Tech is terrible, but: come on!).

Figure 1: Kyle: Jimmy, exactly what part of the fishsticks joke did Cartman write?
Jimmy: Well, he didn't actually write... any of it.
Kyle: Let me guess: you came up with the joke, and Cartman sat on the couch eating Twizzlers?
Jimmy: Actually, it was potato chips.

But then I was all like, hey! that's clever, since no one will ever figure it out--it's not like the entire internet is archived and accessible via a full-text sear...oh, wait.

The writer, [redacted-ed.], also repeated paragraphs verbatim in three articles in two Observer-owned magazines, SouthPark Magazine and Lake Norman.

I...wait. SouthPark Magazine?

Coincidence? or an hilarious coincidence?

[The writer] apologized and said the duplicated sentences were unintentional.

"I totally meant to replace the paragraphs I pasted in from other reviews with original material, and simply forgot to do it, repeatedly, over a three-year span. For this I am sorry."

 Figure 2: Perhaps the oversight was due to a wide editorial stance.

In the end, what's important here is that editorial oversight works, albeit sometimes slowly, and-

The similarities in the reviews came to the Observer’s attention through a reader who saw one of Bell’s reviews, searched on the Internet for other reviews of the same show and discovered several duplicated paragraphs. The reader called the Observer last week. That call prompted an examination...[the writer] is no longer writing for any Observer publication.

Read more here: http://www.charlotteobserver.com/2012/12/18/3732343/observer-reviews-articles-contained.html#storylink=cpy

Read more here: http://www.charlotteobserver.com/2012/12/18/3732343/observer-reviews-articles-contained.html#storylink=cpy

 The Charlotte Observer crowdsourced their editorial oversight?*

*What's more, it's late 2012 and the Blogger spellchecker doesn't know the word "crowdsourced." Isn't this thing run by The Google?

Oh, well done, sirs.  Well done indeed.

Merry Christmas. Please enjoy this topical, holiday-themed pop culture reference that has little or nothing to do with the above.

 Figure 3: John McClane: You throw quite a party. I didn't realize they celebrated Christmas in Japan.
Joseph Takagi : Hey, we're flexible. Pearl Harbor didn't work out so we got you with tape decks.

Read more here: http://www.charlotteobserver.com/2012/12/18/3732343/observer-reviews-articles-contained.html#storylink=cp

Read more here: http://www.charlotteobserver.com/2012/12/18/3732343/observer-reviews-articles-contained.html#storylink=cpy

Read more here: http://www.charlotteobserver.com/2012/12/18/3732343/observer-reviews-articles-contained.html#storylink=cpy

Read more here: http://www.charlotteobserver.com/2012/12/18/3732343/observer-reviews-articles-contained.html#storylink=cpy

Read more here: http://www.charlotteobserver.com/2012/12/18/3732343/observer-reviews-articles-contained.html#storylink=cpy

Expanding the Parameters, or All Antecedents Have Consequences

Holiday classical musical performances beyond the 'Messiah'

David Weininger, Boston Globe, 11/17/2012

Goodness gracious, is it that time already?  Never too early to jump back into the shark-infested waters, as my mom always said.*

*May not be true.


Soon it will be Christmas.

Thank heavens for the Boston Globe.  Talk about news you can use!

What should you listen to?

Should?  Uh...

This is not a simple question.

No shit.  What I "'should'" listen to is, apparently, prescribed by to the condition that "soon it will be Christmas."  That's a whole thing right there.  Perhaps I'm not a nominally Christian white East Coast American male over 55 who gives a shit that it's almost Christmas?

Oh, wait.  This is in a newspaper.  Well, I guess you have to write to your audience.

Figure 1: The all-inclusive target audience

Historically, Christmas...

If I said that I didn't like where this was going, I'd be lying...but only because of who I am and the blog for which I write.  I'm ten kinds of strapped in and prepared for the least-researched sentence ever.

...has been an immensely prolific time for composers, especially (and obviously) for those writing for the Christian church.

I submit that the sense of "historically" being invoked here is not really anything as broad as the word itself suggests.  It seems to me that, here, "historically" means "during the 18th century."

There was actually a relatively short period of time, in a pretty small part of the world, during which most composers were employed by Christian churches.

But, of course, people, places, and times not roughly related to "the last two or three hundred years of European-American history" aren't included in "historically."

But, now, see: perhaps that's exactly what this article is after: breaking the Christmas concert paradigm.

Figure 2: "Now Andy, if you let them take thirty, they'll take thirty-five. If you let them take thirty-five,

they'll take forty. If you let them take forty, they'll take forty-five."

Slow down there, Sator.  You're a little rusty at this.  Don't be so quick to--

But this trove of musical riches is astonishingly easy to lose sight of, even in so artistically sophisticated a place as Boston.

Wow, okay.  I can't imagine that this sort of self-congratulatory onanism is going to live up to my optomistic projection.

Figure 3: The sophistication of Boston's cultural patrons is matched

only by their class and dignity.

It can seem as though holiday offerings are confined to endless renditions of the “Hallelujah” chorus and an all-too-small group of holiday favorites.

Although we're all sick of the Messiah--and I am therefore sympathetic to this sentiment--the contstruction "it can seem" is so unbelievably rhetorically weak that I'm rather put off.  Instead of invoking a familiar sensation, "it can seem" could be used to justify any number of terrible, terrible sentences.  To wit:

"It can seem like your friend's hot daughter really appreciates your attention."

See?

How to break out of this rut?

By continuing to employ a string of weak grammatical constructions?

One strategy is to explore a Christmas distant in time and space from our own,

Figure 4: Does the rabbit-creature have a garrotte made of stars?

 
...and this is an experience that early music ensembles are especially skilled at providing.

I'm gonna go ahead and write this off as a segue to talking about specific groups in Boston this season, since trying to understand the logic of this sentence in the abstract, as the alternative assumes some kind of non-Euclidian rhetorical space with which I'm not adequately equipped to deal.

Figure 5: If you thought of it, there are already hundreds of images of it.

Two such groups are Boston Camerata, an ensemble of instrumentalists and singers, and the vocal group Blue Heron. This year, the former is presenting “The Brotherhood of the Star: A Hispanic Christmas,” while the latter is offering a sampling of music for Advent, Christmas, and New Year’s from 15th-century France and Burgundy.

I am in favor of both of these groups.  I think it's important to go on the record about that before proceeding.

“There’s a reason we hear ‘Messiah’ and ‘Nutcracker’ every year — because they’re so great,” said Scott Metcalfe, Blue Heron’s music director.

Ha ha yeah that's totally it.  We're not lazy or indoctrinated or forcefed a false nostalgia that poisons our present -- they're just so great!

“But doing these sort of alternative, 15th-century Christmases, there’s no sense that they have a holiday anything like ours.”

Translation: the artistic director of an early music ensemble speculates that, based on available evidence, Christmas in 15th century Burgundy was different than Christmas today.

I guess there IS a reason this is in the newspaper (based on available evidence).

This is Blue Heron’s sixth season of holiday concerts — Metcalfe said that in the group’s early years they skipped it because, ironically, many of the singers could make more money doing “Messiah” performances.

Let's leave alone that "it" seems somehow to refer to "sixth season of holiday concerts" and, instead, focus on how "ironically" is "ironically" [sic] being used incorrectly.

Boston Camerata, by contrast, began doing Christmas concerts in the early 1970s under Joel Cohen, now music director emeritus. (He is also directing “Brotherhood.”) Many have proven to be among the group’s most enduring programs.

Many of...its artistic directors?  Too many antecedents, not enough consequents.  It's what Christmas is all about!

‘For us, there is a desire to pull the curtain open and say, wait a minute, there may be other things out there. Let’s look at them, let’s enjoy them.’ Anne Azéma, the Camerata’s artistic director, said of the impulse behind them: “It came out of a desire to remove oneself from the Christmas routine.”

By putting on a Christmas concert?

By “routine,” she meant “a canon that was developed in the late 19th century in America — a mixture of German-Scandinavian-English music which created this sort of postcard idea of all things that we think now as Christmas.”

Oh.  Well, good, then, within the limited scope of expanding that notion to include slightly more European countries over a slightly longer period of time.

That includes the caroling tradition that’s especially strong in Boston, popular songs about chestnuts and angels, “Messiah,” and other time-honored entries.

Since I have a blog, I'd like to take this opportunity to mention that the only thing I hate more than angels (which are, conveniently for me, imaginary) is people who just fucking love angels.

I'm sorry, you were saying something about Christmas concerts?

“It’s wonderful material,...

Is that a nice way of calling it "not music?"

...some of it at least,

Ha.

...but it’s become so overfamiliar that its impact is often lost.”

Ding ding ding!

If I was still an academic postmodernist asshole I'd call it "overdetermined" - but I quit being that, so I won't.**

**Technically, I am no longer an academic.

“In a way, caught among all these things, you tend to forget that Christmas has been happening for quite a while,” she continued.

Like basically since Halloween! Every year!

“For us, there is a desire to pull the curtain open and say, wait a minute, there may be other things out there. Let’s look at them, let’s enjoy them.”

First, this the second time in three quotes you've used the "pull the curtain" analogy.  I will refrain from speculating about that.

Second, I like "look at" as a metaphor for "listen to."  If you get too literal you scare away the rubes!

Third, this:

These are, nevertheless, holiday concerts, which means that an audience, no matter how adventurous, is going to want something that resonates with their own experience, even if the music is unfamiliar.

Yeah, this is about where I stopped reading, but only partly because the rationalization-to-description ratio became untenable.

Happy Thanksgiving from your friendly if unreliable bloggers at the Detritus Review.

Jonesing for Sesquicentenniality

Yeah, yeah. We’re busy. We’re busy with all kinds of important things. Since our last public service announcement, we have collectively produced at least eight babies (six others are probable), three ex-wives (Sator does not count the one in Haiti), ruined at least two businesses, wrote three dissertations (two of which are still in the works, or not), and, in our spare time, have been making plans for the upcoming zombie apocalypse. (If anyone has or knows anyone who has property in eastern Idaho and is looking to sell, please feel free to contact us via this site)

Unfortunately, this means that we’ve neglected our duties to the Detritus Review and to our generous sponsors, to whom we are eternally grateful. (ASCAP has yet to send me any checks, so I am especially thankful) But rest assured, dear Detritusites, you have always been in our prayers. Not to say that you can’t take care of yourselves in these distressing times; but, rather, we feel it is our duty to keep the critics in check so you don’t have to. Wasted time falls short of the tree…or something.

So, apologies all around.

And believe you me, I know it feels like a hundred and fifty years since last time; which is why today I feel the need to make up for our…

Wait. What’s that you say? Debussy’s sesquicentennial is this year! O.M.G. [sic] I know; he had a weird, misshapen head. And…what…there are no real plans to celebrate? That’s…what? Okay. Yeah. Yeah. But…oh, good. Whew! There was a piano recital on which the second book of Preludes were…who? Thibaudet? He’s pretty good, if I recall.

He confidently handled Debussy’s structural challenges…

By playing them, one assumes, because they are written that way. That and he is a confident pianist who is playing the piano.

It’s almost as if the very idea of form is something like kryptonite to pianists—could it be that they writhe in pain just at the sight of rounded-binary? Either way, Thibaudet seems to have overcome this stereotypical weakness. Good for him. Otherwise form might’ve hijacked all the oil tankers, thus further impeding the average hog rider’s thirst for freedom.

On the other hand, perhaps I’m overreacting. Perhaps structure, here, is synonymous with effect. [Thinks about it]

Nah. That’s crazy!

He confidently handled Debussy’s structural challenges, as in the gradual shifts of tone that give the effect of a mist lifting in the prelude “Terrasse des Audiences du Clair de Lune.”

At least this wasn’t from the New York Times. Can I get a holler!

Well, don’t that just pee down my neck and call it a broomstick with more words!

His textural variety, from twinkle to velvet, was gorgeous in the “Suite Bergamasque” and the three “Estampes.”

See figure 1.

                                                Figure 1. Kepler’s famous Textural scale

And finally, let’s play a game.

As he finished the last swoop up the keyboard in the final selection, “L’Isle Joyeuse”…

Cast your vote now! What happened after the last swoop?

A. Thibaudet played an encore by Chopin, spoiling the birthday celebration.

B. One audience member finally stopped coughing.

C. Leonard Bernstein made an appearance, combed his hair.

D. A lifelong Hells’ Angel member made everyone uncomfortable with piercing irony.

And now for the answer! If you guessed B, one audience member finally fucking stopped coughing, you’d be wrong.

As he finished the last swoop up the keyboard in the final selection, “L’Isle Joyeuse,” a bald, bearded man in a T-shirt sitting near the front burst out of his seat with a whoop, arms in the air as if at a rock concert. You go, dude.

                                                                     Figure Free Bird

-

Critic Is Large; Contains Multitudes, or "Masters Are Masterful"

Exploring Bartok's Legacy With Plenty of Energy
Anthony Tommasini, New York Times, 11/1/2011

Let's leave aside (by which I mean: let's don't) that the title editor made the random choice to capitalize one of the prepositions and not the other. In virtually every style format exactly zero percent of prepositions in titles should be thusly treated, but maybe it's some new quirk in Chicago 16 of which I'm not yet aware; because, hey: if you didn't change a bunch of shit, why would you need to issue a new edition? It's not like every editor in the world is basically required to buy one every time you...oh, right.

Figure 1: The University of Chicago, publisher of the aforementioned eponymous ubiquitous style guide. So that's how they fund their insanely wacky devastatingly influential school of economics.

Master is a term applied too loosely in classical music.

This is, unedited [by me: ed.] and verbatim, the opening sentence in this review; no words have been manipulated to make it appear more prominent than it is.

To declare someone a master makes it sound as if an artist had reached some benchmark of skill and insight, and every performance said master gave would automatically be masterly.

I'm not sure that "mastery" necessarily equates to "consistency," but, yes, that word is thrown around pretty casually.

In fact great musicians work constantly and continually challenge themselves.

Wow. Good thing I read the New York Times, because I just popped into existence about 45 seconds ago and thought that great musicians were, generally, incompetent but insanely fucking lucky.

But: fine. Overused designator. Too-oft typed moniker.

Maybe the definition of a master is elusive.

Wow; that's award-winning stuff right there. You think you can find insights like that in the Post?

Figure 2: The Post, winner of the "Miss Congeniality" award in the 2010 Best Partisan Rag Pageant.

But somehow you know one when you hear one, as was clear on Monday night when the pianist Andras Schiff played a recital before a full house of rapt listeners at Carnegie Hall.

Really? Let me get this straight, paraphrase-style:*

"Man, people sure throw "master" around a lot; it's vague to begin with and overuse just makes it kind of meaningless and trite. But man! You should've seen this concert! Dude was a master."

Know what? I got your master right here. Self-proclaimed is the way to go, unless you're going to wait for the Times to come around and, finally, declare you to be such.

Figure 3: True mastery is characterized by subtlety.

Become the ruling body.

*We are aware of all internet traditions.

Thank God! Orchestra Doesn't Play Strauss

Review: ISO's guest artists cast spells with enchanting classics
Jay Harvey, Indianapolis Star, Oct. 15, 2011

You're right. "Guest artists" is much better than providing names.

If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times...always keep them guessing.

Music associated with enchantment begins and ends this weekend's Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra concerts, but the way the program's other major work was performed Friday was no less enchanting.

It's quite a talent that can confusingly introduce a concerts and its program with any specifics. Well done, sir.

Which makes me wonder...what is enchanting music? It's been a while, let's ask Google images!

figure enchanting: Oh, dear God. No!

Jonathan Biss, Bloomington-born and on his way to becoming world-renowned, played the solo part in Beethoven's Piano Concerto No. 2 in B-flat...

Okay, so was this the enchantment asscoiated music, or the enchanting music? I actually, thought this would be more obvious. Silly me.

...with an elegance that didn't get too lofty to convey emotional engagement.

It's a tough balancing act, all that elegance muddying up the emotional engagement.

If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times, just leave the elegance at the door. It's always seemed too elitist for my tastes.

His generally crisp, even articulation never overcame his focus on tone, which had a rounded, singing quality even in leaping passage work.

Wait, are the crisp articulations or the rounded, singing tone the elegant part?

And why, oh why, must two positive attributes of piano-playing (good articulation and focused tone) be mutually exclusive? Thank god for players like Jonathan Biss, who defy the laws of music criticism and are the exception that proves the rule.

I wonder what makes him such a great pianist.

A thoughtful artist with lots of individuality to bring to the classic repertoire, Biss crafted a first-movement cadenza that blended youthful vigor and studied reflection, its resonant climax aided by abundant pedal.

If I've said it once...more youthful vigor and abundant pedal, please!

The slow movement had just enough reserve as its delicate song poured forth,...

Yes...er...uh? Wait...reserved what?

...with the piano's quiet, single-line outburst near the end filling the hall. The consistent brio and polish Biss applied to the finale...

I know, seriously. Someone really should edit those changes into Beethoven's score. I know he's the "greatest composer of all-time", but he really should know better than to leave the brio and polish out of this finale.

I mean, how else is he going to produce an ovation?

...produced a slow-building but insistent ovation...

See. Were they standing?! I sure as heck hope so if they expected to cause a spontaneous (completely unplanned) encore.

...that resulted in an encore: the fifth of Beethoven's Six Bagatelles, op. 126.

If I've said it once...audiences love brio and polish!

figure Brio plaster polish: Who knew.

In the concerto, guest conductor Gilbert Varga kept the balance and coordination of the orchestra keenly matched to the soloist.

I should hope so.

This was no surprise,...

Oh really? Why?

...given the controlled grandeur and sweep of the program-opener: Mozart's Overture to "The Magic Flute."

Of course! If I've said it once, I've said it thousand times. If you can control the grandeur of Die Zauberflöte Overture, then you are more than ready for the balance and coordination of pre-19th century Beethoven.

But that opera, from which they performed just the famous overture, is so unconventional, what possibly could they pair it with on this concert? A conundrum that has plagued orchestras for centuries.

The unconventionality of that opera from Mozart's last year is nothing compared to the bizarre pantomime scenario for which Bela Bartok supplied a bristling score in the early 1920s.

Really? To which bizarre pantomime scenario are you referring?

Friday's concert ended spectacularly with the suite from "The Miraculous Mandarin."

Hmmm...now I'm a classical music lover, and I've heard of Beethoven and Mozart, and I've even seen Amadeus. So I consider myself an expert on The Magic Flute, and that opera has a guy dressed up as a bird. That's pretty crazy.

figure adult man dressed as bird: See. That opera is pretty silly. Wait...is that a...nipple?!

What's this Mandarin guy got?

In the story line, some roughnecks commandeer a young woman as sexual bait, forcing her to lure visitors to a seedy apartment.

I'm pretty sure most of Mozart's opera are about the same thing. Basically.

Two hapless men are ejected for insufficient funds, and then the title character proves too much to handle, in ways the complete score details.

Two men kidnap a woman into sexual slavery, but their plans are thwarted when the their home is foreclosed on?

Banks...always screwing the little guy!

Also, that's an odd summary you've written there. "Proves too much to handle..."?

Are these two men the Tim Conway and Don Knotts to the Miraculous Mandarin's orphaned kids from The Apple Dumpling Gang?

figure two hapless men: "You know something, Amos? The Lord poured your brains in with a teaspoon, and somebody joggled His arm. I keep trying to tell you we ain't got no lead to throw, and no powder to throw it with. "

The suite is graphic enough so that it would be inaccurate to say the music transcends the sordid plot.

Uh.... Okay, so I totally agree that the music in a ballet should transcend the plot, although I'm certain I have no idea what that means. But how could you even tell if the music is transcending the plot since you're only hearing the suite (without the whole ballet part)?

Or are you suggesting the music is too accurately depicting the graphic storyline? ...a concept I'm having a difficult time actually visualizing.

Oh bother.

Still, it's one of the milestones of symphonic modernism and received a brilliant performance Friday, with Varga and the ISO conveying every snarling or spooky twist and turn.

Sexual slavery aside, it's still a great piece. But "magic" flutes have nipples.

Obscure, early music by Varga's Hungarian countryman Bartok showcased principal guest concertmaster Alexander Kerr.

If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times...why must you vaguely, and somewhat confusingly introduce a piece without giving us the title?

The first of "Two Portraits" features a ceaseless, impassioned violin solo that Kerr sustained beautifully.

He sustained the solo? Is this sustained as in maintained, or as in ratified?

The second one is mocking and vehement; it discards the solo violin -- the composer's payback for a love affair gone awry -- in a performance both idiomatic and picturesque.

I like my vehement mocking picturesque, too!

Wait...what pieces were associated with enchantment?

Complementary work deserves compliments

Review: Harrell finds many subtleties in Dvorak
Bruce R. Miller, Sioux City Journal, September 23, 2011

In great contrast to me, I suppose.

Antonin Dvorak wasn't interested in writing any works for cellos -- ...

He wasn't?

... he didn't think they were good solo instruments.

He didn't?

Thankfully, wiser heads convinced him otherwise and he produced the Cello Concerto in B Minor -- ...

Ah yes, the masterful op. 104. The first and only piece for solo cello that Dvorak ever wrote, not counting the first Cello Concerto in A major, B. 10, his Cello Sonata in F minor, the Polonaise in A major for cello and piano, the Rondo in G minor (which he later orchestrated), the arrangements he made of his Slavonic Dances for cello and piano, or the transcription of Silent Woods for cello and piano, and later for cello and orchestra.

Wiser heads truly did prevail.

...a piece that Lynn Harrell owned Saturday night performing with the Sioux City Symphony Orchestra.

Don't you mean pwned?

Bopping along...

Bopping along? ...in his little red wagon?

...with the orchestra's parts, he practically made the music seem as if it was one of classical music's Top 10.

Which, of course, it's not. Pssh.

To even suggest that this piece belongs in the same esteem as Eine kleine nachtmusik or the William Tell Overture (just the Lone Ranger part, not the rest, of course) is blasphemy. Classical music's Top 10 is a sacred, unalterable law of nature. I mean, would you really have Time Life Recordings remake all those cds?

He got his cello to sing, too, mimicking Lori Benton's superior flute work and justifying the brass section's noble fanfares.

The cello sang, copying the flute and justifying the brass? Sure, that sounds like orchestration 101 to me.

The piece -- part of a Dvorak night -- wasn't one you'd go home humming, but it did have plenty of work for everyone to do.

So, the Dvorak was more like Bill Lumbergh?

figure superfluous Office Space reference, loosely tied to Dvorak: "Hello Peter, whats happening? Ummm, I'm gonna need you to go ahead come in tomorrow. So if you could be here around 9 that would be great, mmmk... oh oh! and I almost forgot ahh, I'm also gonna need you to go ahead and come in on Sunday too, kay. We ahh lost some people this week and ah, we sorta need to play catch up."

Harrell, in fact, gave his fingers such a deft workout you frequently wanted a camera on them to see just how he was able to zip from the melodramatic to the sublime.

Precisely, a giant scoreboard with closeups, replays, and the 'kiss cam' in between pieces. Whatever I can do not to listen to the music.

Harrell played well with all sections of the orchestra (even those that had some timing snags) but he was particularly chummy with the woodwinds.

figure chummy: Lynn and the woodwinds reenacting the battle of Antietam. As I assume most woodwind sections do.

The adagio showed they were willing to step up to their guest's level and compete. The horns did nicely, too.

I'm sure the horns will appreciate the shout-out.

And that chilling fanfare in the end? It may have been Dvorak's way of putting a button on a request,...

A button?

...but it certainly gave Harrell the rest he needed before launching into a more familar [sic] encore.

Just as Dvorak intended. Subtly, of course.

The rest of the program was filled with other Dvorak works...

As all-Dvorak programs tend to do, from time to time.

... -- the rather passive "In Nature's Realm," the more familiar Symphony No. 7 in D minor.

"Passive", "familiar"...sounds like a Dvorak concert to me.

Still, it was the Lynn and Lori show that impressed.

I love that show.

figure Lynn and Lori: Thank you, pop culture.

While the rest of the orchestra got a chance to shine in the third number, it was Benton's complementary work that deserved the compliments.

Are we still talking about the concerto?

Harrell may not have the flash of friends Itzhak Perman and Pinchas Zukerman, but he more than has the skills.

Itzhak Perman?! I realy ove that guy. Seriousy.

Saturday night, he was willing to share them with the Siouxland musicians.

Wait. Itzhak Perman and Pinchas Zukerman were there?

And the result? The result was good, very good.

Gabby Hayes good?

Even better?

Even better than Gabby Hayes, the cello concerto that almost wasn't, and the unrestrained irreverence of the Lynn and Lori Smile-Time Variety Hour!?

If it isn't a complete and utter non-sequitur, and extremely patriotic, I'm not sure it could be any better.

The orchestra started the season with a rousing version of the Star Spangled Banner. While this was probably a given decades ago, it was nice to see it back -- a good way to start what could be a great season.

I know, I was totally in danger forgetting that piece.


Wait...what did you say about subtleties?

Friday Quickie: Tales of Not-Quite New Music

Bamberg Symphony Orchestra Review
Iain Gilmour, EdinbourghGuide.com, September 5, 2011

The Bamberg Symphony Orchestra is well-remembered from its five-concert residency at the 2003 Edinburgh International Festival.

Excellent. Sounds like repeat engagement would bring about a wonderful reunion.

Neither memories nor growing repute from widespread touring were sufficient to draw a reasonable-sized audience to the first of its two concerts closing the Usher Hall run in the 2011 Festival.

Hmm. I wonder what the problem was? Also, what's a reasonable-sized audience? How unreasonable could it have been -- was the fire marshal called?

figure reasonably-sized: Seems to fit nicely.

The choice of programme could have been a determining factor.

Really...the choice of programme? I've never heard such an accusation before.

Did they program symphonic U2? Because, there's no way I'd miss that!

embeddence U2: Note the presence of a singable tune.

An evening devoted solely to Messaien and Bartok is not a sure crowd-puller.

Oh, of course. Composers who, despite being dead (a major plus), had the misfortune of writing music after the era of good music had ended.

That is no criticism of the orchestra or its English conductor Jonathan Nott,...

Of course not. It's not their fault that music after 1900 is awful.

...who has just extended until 2015 a tenure as principal conductor begun in 2000. Nott encouraged and controlled the players admirably in the opening item, Messiaen’s Chronochromie.

Encouragement and mind-control are indeed good tactics, but really, you'll catch larger audiences with Beethoven than you will with Messiaen.

Conventional wisdom, I know, but playing the Messiaen well will never mean as much as not playing it at all.

But since the orchestra has lost their minds, and are probably only performing in front of the cleaning crew and student composers, tell us a little about this piece.

The work encapsulates two ideas – time and colour...

Hence the name.

... – and demands a big orchestra, with the usual percussion section enlarged by gongs, bells, glockenspiel, marimba, cymbals and xylophone.

Wait. Gongs, bells, cymbals, and xylophone are unusual percussion?

figure futuristic instrument: Observe the unusual shape and strange bends in this seemingly normal hunk of metal.

For Messiaen sounds had colour and time was expressed by rhythm and duration.

Wait...time was expressed by duration?! That's clearly some freaky shit.

[snip]

The orchestra produced every twist and turn in the score,...

Against their better judgment, I'm sure.

...from “twittering” sections – reflecting the composer’s lifelong interest in bird song -- to “off-key” combinations with accurate sound and precise timing.

Just think how much better this piece would have been had it been "on-key".

Messiaen was a complex character – composer, ornithologist, church organist (for 60 years at Holy Trinity in Paris) and teacher. His spell as Professor of Harmony at the Paris Conservatoire may have had more influence on the development of modern music than his compositions – his students included Stockhausen, Boulez, Goehr, and Kurtag – though he was the first composer to use an early version of an electronic keyboard.

And this is all very important and interesting, of course, providing that no orchestra ever play their music.

Writing about Music Still as Awesome as Last Time I Checked

Diamond season off to brilliant start
D.S. Crafts, Albuquerque Journal, 9/2/2011

Don't bother clicking the link; the Journal is, apparently, so awesome – one hopes this is due to its expensive and, ergo, excellent staff of wordsmiths – that they don't just give their advertising-soaked content away for nothing. You can sit through an ad for a trial version if you really want to.

I find this patently fucking offensive. Let's just say I'll be getting my local arts coverage somewhere else from now on.

I guess I could take the print version, but (as a friend of mine always replies when offered a subscription to the Austin American-Statesman) I have neither a bird nor a puppy.

---Begin Digression---

A few words are in order. Yes, it has been a long time; life intervenes. Sue us. Also, the Austin-based percentage of Detritus Review writers went from 50% to 66% to 33% to 0% in the short space of a year.* Doings, as they say, are afoot.

*I was going to make a graph of this, but I didn't.

Clever readers will have already surmised that I have relocated to Albuquerque, along with Mrs Arepo and the cat. (Yes, all bloggers really do have cats. No, you cannot see a picture.) All is well and the chile is excellent and near-daily.

Figure 1: Chiles rellenos

Enough.

---End Digression---

My first and only sojourn into the Albuquerque Journal's Pay-to-Read Arts Coverage was rewarded with the requisite Hacky Classical Music Review Title.

Diamond season off to brilliant start

Oh, well played, sirs. Way to not fall into the dreaded let's-at-least-use-the-second-stupid-thing-that-pops-into-our-collective-head trap.

The Santa Fe Concert Association commenced its 75th anniversary season in grand style, bringing to the stage of the Lensic Performing Arts Center soprano Susanna Phillips among others.

If I were the arts director, I'd bring her to the stage by herself — as befits the featured artist — and leave the “others” sort of in the background. What? It was just a missing comma? Oh, never mind, then, newspaper-that-thinks-I-should-pay-for-its-awesome-online-content.

Phillips, seen in August on public television’s Mozart concert, is quickly and rightfully becoming one of the most celebrated singers in the country. A veteran of three Mozart leads at the Santa Fe Opera, she sings two primary roles at the Metropolitan Opera this season.

She does and/or will?

Conducted by Joseph Illick, she opened the program with the “Four Last Songs” by Strauss.

I'm a little confused about agency here; I admit that this might be my own problem.

Figure 2: The crumbling ruins represent sentences

Somber songs about death are not exactly the most festive work to begin a gala opening concert, but from a performance of such radiant beauty there were anything but objections.

Okay; no. It's not just me. Prepositions aren't interchangeable and/or to be omitted ad libitum. The first phrase, which has a prepositional deficiency so severe it likely has scurvy, gives way to a second clause implying that the performance was so exquisite it didn't even object to itself.

With long, warm phrasing she gave heartfelt meaning to each of the poems. Illick carefully gauged the tempos of the predominantly string sonority to allow her a maximum of expression.

One notes with interest that the author of the review is himself a composer; this is a nice insight.

Phillips then returned for selections from Mendelssohn’s Symphony No. 2, “Lobgesang,” which includes chorus, soprano and mezzo-soprano.

Selections? They didn't play the whole symphony? You stay classy, Santa Fe Concert Association.

Here in contrast to the introspective Strauss, she let loose the full power and luster of her voice and shone brilliantly above the orchestral textures.

Still working on that “diamond” thing, eh? Was that with or without conspiring with the title-writing editor to keep up the lame, lame joke?

Linda Raney’s chorus too sang with an unbridled optimism, creating a “joyful noise” most appropriate to the occasion.

The scare quotes lead me to believe that the reviewer thinks that the chorus was awful—but enthusiastic!

Figure 3: Requisite pop culture reference

Pro Tip: Do not use fucking scare quotes in your writing.

Mezzo-soprano Jamie Barton sang two small roles with the Santa Fe Opera this summer, both, unfortunately, too short to give us anything but a glimpse of her outstanding talent.

“Both” is not the same as “each.” That difficulty is overcome, however; even though each [sic] of her small roles was too short to allow an accurate assessment of her talent, said assessment is nevertheless undertaken.

Here too, frustratingly, we heard only one or two short solo passages other than the voice in duet with Phillips.

One or two? Lost count, did we? Wait; maybe I'm confused. There were two singers. What was that last bit again?

...other than the voice in duet with Phillips.

Now I'm more confused than ever. I don't know what that means. The addition or subtraction of a comma and/or preposition (if I have understood the rules of the column-game so far) won't even help.

I, for one, hope to hear more of her rich, hearty mezzo in future.

I, for one, hate clichéd stock phrases. I, for one, will also not be referring to the Albuquerque Journal for information about future local arts events. I, for one, will, further, not address the rest of this review.

I would, however, be remiss if I didn't mention the end of the article.

Appreciative congratulations to the SFCA in this most auspicious 75th season. 1937 had to be a good year. It heralded, as the program notes reminded, the introduction of Spam.

Points for the delightful non sequitur, even if it was cribbed from the program notes.