Sniff. Sniff. I smell fresh meat.
Amid all the hoopla of cocktail parties and pre-concert dinners, the opening night of the season celebrated the 10th anniversary of the Seattle Symphony's splendid Benaroya Hall, while taking note of the recent announcement that its music director will step down at the end of the 2010-11 season.
Here, we have two options, Bernard Jacobson’s: the opening night of the season celebrated the tenth anniversary of the hall. Meanwhile, the opening night took note of some recent news concerning its music director.
Mine: The opening night was a celebration of the tenth anniversary of the hall. Those who were present took note of the recent news.
I'll let you decide: the one that personifies an "opening night" or the rational one.
Gerard Schwarz, holder of that post since 1985, has been an inspirational leader.
I like to slowly stalk my prey.
Like any inspirational leader, he has had not only admirers, like this critic, but detractors too.
...detractors in what sense?
Readers of this newspaper will not be unaware of the controversies that have shadowed his relations with some orchestra members in recent seasons.
Oh. I get it. He’s talking about the detractors who...what? Pointed out how bad he was working with the musicians? So...his detractors were what? Oh. Just telling the truth! Silly me. Ms. Iron Tongue has a few complimentary words on this fiasco.
By the way, double-negatives, like “will not be unaware,” really irk me, especially when I presume you’re working with a fairly strict word count; they waste valuable space.
Happily there were no signs of tension at Saturday's concert.
There was a concert, too? How was that?
Besides an ovation of unmistakable affection from the audience...
The opposite: Besides an ovation of unmistakable derision from the audience...Ha! It’s only a guess, but my guess is that ovations are always of a positive nature (someone might want to consult a dictionary. Wait, no. There’s no point. I’m right). Therefore, “unmistakable affection” is totally superfluous. More wasted space.
Truth to tell...
Correction: “Truth be told.”
Truth to tell [sic], despite the "Symphony" in the name, there was nothing symphonic about this program.
Weird. They didn’t play together? They didn’t syn- “together” + phone “voice, sound?” Ever eaten an etymology with blood pudding? Yum.
Besides (and please help me out on this one, people), isn’t “Symphony” in the name merely a reference to the type of organization or instrumentation, not the specific kind of repertoire? There is no contractual obligation to play only symphonies, is there? If there is, I’m not aware of it.
Aside from three short orchestral pieces, the evening was given over to vocal music...
Yeah, Mr. Literal-head, accompanied by a symphony orchestra. Whatever.
Among the purely orchestral pieces [...] "An Outdoor Overture," handsomely as it was done, is a relatively banal chip from Aaron Copland's workbench...
...but we were also treated to the waltz from the ballet "Billy the Kid," which is a different matter entirely.
Still stalking... Fill in the blanks:
The ballet, a potent and affecting blend of downhome ______ and streetwise ______, [...]
You’re all wrong! The correct answer is:
The ballet, a potent and affecting blend of downhome and streetwise, [...]
The Seattle Times is generally pretty good, with witty and spectacular. But not this time.
Sniff. Sniff. I smell fresh meat.