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.
This week's Minnesota Orchestra concerts, heard Thursday at Orchestra Hall, mark the climax of its season-long Rachmaninoff symphony cycle.
I think the story here is that the Minnesota Orchestra has completely given up on programming good music.
Har har har...see what I did there?
Sorry, I'm sure some of you out there just love Rachmaninoff...but just admit it, you're totally wrong. Right?
Rachmaninoff's Symphony No. 3 in A minor is the composer's final symphony and one of the last of his orchestral works.
In fact that the only other orchestral work he composed (Symphonic Dances) was the only other piece he wrote at all until his death seven years after this symphony. Just saying.
As such, it is a nice pairing with the contrastingly youthful "Firebird."
Sure, what the hell.
The first movement opens in deep melancholy, perhaps expressing Rachmaninoff's sense of loss and of time passing.
Perhaps. But if you're basing this on the fact that you heard the Dies Irae, you should note that every piece Rachmaninoff ever wrote has the Dies Irae in it...or something like that.
So, how was this symphony "a minor" disappointment?
Wigglesworth missed the depth of emotion, stressing orchestral precision over passion, the result feeling somewhat cerebral and cold.
Well, that's not something you read everyday. Rachmaninoff -- "cerebral"? Surely you jest.
figure don't see that everyday: It is just as true today as it was in his day. Amen.
----------------------------------
Actually, Rachmaninoff's music isn't not cerebral. It's just so much more common for his music to be inundated with superlatives extolling the emotional genius of his music. I mean, it's not like he's Bruckner or something.
Making an analogy, or even a direct comparison, can be an illuminating device when talking about abstract concepts. Of course, some people use them in place of an actual point, but Richard Nilsen has a point...just not a good comparison.
The baritone sang Gustav Mahler's "Songs of a Wayfarer" with the Phoenix Symphony this week…
Wait…the singer who's not no Sinatra sang Mahler?
How’d he do?
…and the performance was a major letdown.
Well, Sinatra wasn’t known for his Mahler performances.
Sometimes you wait a whole season for a particular concert, because the music scheduled isn't merely beautiful or entertaining, but promises emotional transport.
I wish I had something clever to say here, but really, this is something unique that a symphony orchestra has the power to do but so rarely does. And this seems especially true since they rely so consistently upon the same pieces that have already emotionally transported me many times before.
After all, that is why we who love classical music persist in a love for a dying art form: It can take us out of ourselves and leave us feeling the radiance of the universe.
The art form isn’t dying, it’s just that people always insist on performing pieces that people already know they love.
The classical music universe is definitely not expanding the way most orchestras program.
It is almost a drug and we crave it.
Exactly. But we digress.
So, I’m assuming you love the Mahler “Songs of a Wayfarer” and you wished Sinatra were singing them? …
And when something like the Mahler sits there on the calendar all year, beckoning us to wait for its April date, we hope once again for that emotional and spiritual fix.
Oh, come on, Mahler’s on the calendar every year. But, I guess I know what you mean.
Well, perhaps you can expect too much.
If you expected Sinatra to sing your Mahler, perhaps you did expect too much.
It wasn't that Addis sang badly.
Oh. Was his diction good?
Certainly his diction was good.
Good. Music is all about diction.
As if music were about diction.
Wait? Music’s not about diction?
But the Sinatra comparison is dead on:…
Are you sure, because I can’t even begin to imagine why you’d compare this singer to Sinatra.
…When you heard Frank Sinatra sing, you knew - or felt you knew - that he had lived every word of the song he sang.
And there’s never been a classical singer who you felt this about before? Perhaps even someone who has sang the Mahler before?
The emotional intelligence he brought to lyrics meant that even as his voice declined, his ability to put across a song never wavered.
Exactly. Like when he sang: Come fly with me, let's float down to Peru In llama land there's a one-man band And he'll toot his flute for you
I totally feel like he’s been to Peru, in a way no other artist could.
And the emotional content in lyrics like: She'll have no crap games with sharpies and frauds And she won't go to Harlem in Lincolns or Fords And she won't dish the dirt with the rest of the broads That's why the lady is a tramp
When he sang that, I could feel that this woman really eschewed the cultured, high-society conventions of her day...like not driving domestic automobiles.
It was what was missing from Addis' performance: He never convinced us - never even tried to convince us - that the words actually mean anything.
This seems fair. But did you really need Sinatra to make this point?
The styles of singing (and the songs themselves) really don't have a lot in common.
He sang as if he had memorized the words, not internalized them. It is at such times that you realize that mere musicality isn't enough: Great art isn't about pretty.
Couldn’t agree with this more… Wait, are you saying Sinatra wasn’t a good singer?
[snip]
But you're making what I would a consider a valid and important observation about the performance...are you sure there isn't a more apt comparison you could provide to help us understand your argument?
If you have ever heard Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau sing these songs, you know how far we have fallen.
Thank you.
See, I don’t know that recording, but this seems like a much better comparison. You've now created a workable reference point for people who know the Mahler songs. Plus, I’m actually likely to seek out this recording to understand better your frame of reference.
Maybe it's just me, but I find this far more illustrative.
The best way to get your point across and grab the attention of the reader to make a connection right away. So, many critics find a point of agreement as their topic sentence. But that's where so many critics run into trouble -- the generalization.
I know, I know. It's just an innocent comment, but really...does it serve any purpose at all, other than to reinforce the idea that contemporary music is generally awful? Anne Midgette is an excellent critic, and I expect better from her on the fundamental issues like this one.
I mean, I understand. But sometimes...you know...[sigh].
Take it away, Anne.
If you want to scare off an audience,...
Wait for it...
If you want to scare off an audience, offer contemporary music.
Nailed it. Couldn't agree more. Yep, contemporary music is awful. And now that I think about it, classical music is boring, also. Which begs the question why anyone would ever program that new music garbage?
Oh, wait. Could it be that's a gross generalization that reflects antiquated thinking? The casting of an audience as a single, like-minded organism is so very lazy. I think it's safe to say that not all of us regular symphony patrons like the same music. Some of us want nothing more than to hear contemporary music often (very often) at the symphony, and to never hear the Bruch Violin Concerto ever again (for example).
I know -- we don't count. There's only so much information that can be included in your standard stereotype, so it's easier to ignore the minority and make all arguments as though we don't exist. But we do exist. And the problem is, at least as is my experience, some of us will purposefully avoid your average symphonic tripe on a regular basis, nearly assuring that we'll never feel connected to these institutions.
But the strange part (and the most reassuring part as well) is that while critics like Ms. Midgette (and actually I read Ms. Midgette quite often, so I know she's much better than this) dwell in the delusion about the awfulness of contemporary music, orchestras are smarter. It no longer makes sense to generalize about the attitudes of audiences, especially as the new garde of conductors -- Marin Alsop in Baltimore, Gustavo Dudamel in LA, David Robertson in St. Louis, Robert Spano in Atlanta -- all make programming contemporary music part of their missions. How is it that these people, who need to schmooze the blue hairs on a nearly daily basis as part of their very livelihood, are further ahead of the curve on this issue than music critics? Seriously. It's time for a new cliche.
figure scary music: Sounds like ants eating my face.
Oh, but I cut you off. Contemporary music scares audiences, but...
If you want to soothe it, offer George Gershwin. Well, I would have said Beethoven, but 20th century American music is a good call too.
I do realize that most critics are not theorists or musicologists, and from time to time their reviews may call for such considerations. They may be forgiven if their comments aren't always one hundred percent accurate. However, we here at the Detritus just have to say..."wait, what?"
The final selection, Johannes Brahms' (1833-1897) Symphony No. 4 in Eminor [sic], was described by Speck as "intellectual" and "lavish," and indeed that is what it was.
I just love this confirmation by the critic of the conductor's pre-performance talk:
Yeah, he described this Brahms Symphony -- pssh -- as "intellectual", but I had to hear it first to be sure. Who ever heard of this Brahms character anyway? I'm not one of those rubber stamp critics you know...up here in Western Michigan, we demand results! Actually, I'm sure it's a completely innocent statement. But a little editing would have revealed how that last remark is really completely unnecessary.
Moving on. Tell us more about the music of this Brahms fellow.
Although not melodic, Brahms' music is a balance between technique and expression,...
Yes, yes. Balance of technique and expression, not melodic and...wait. ...
What?!
Brahms' music is not melodic?! Are you sure?
I mean, I've heard of a lot of Brahms' music before, and I've also heard quite a few melodies.
I guess I don't know what you mean. Are you suggesting that Brahms' music doesn't contain groupings of pitches arranged in a linear progression? Is the Fourth Symphony nothing more than homophony?
Oh, perhaps you're using the term "melodic" in the most idiotic sense of the word, to mean 'a hummable tune'. Please say that isn't so.
But if it is so, is there anyone out there who can't hum the opening theme to Brahms' Fourth Symphony? To any of the movements really.
Even 70's prog-rock band, Yes, thinks the Fourth Symphony has a melody.
But I interrupted you, perhaps the rest of your sentence will clarify this unsubstantiated claim.
...and the symphony delivered on the classical form, the dynamic range, and some lovely woodwind passages in the second movement.
Whew! The four movement structure of the piece was in doubt until the West Michigan Symphony came along. Thanks, guys!
An interesting dichotomy is often created between the technical prowess of a performance and the depth of the emotional narrative. It is commonplace that some performances are maligned as being cold and technical, while less-than-perfect performances are excused and even lauded because of a sense of greater emotional involvement.
Richard Storm, reviewing the Sarasota Music Festival for the Herald-Tribune, has one such review.
Every music student has been there: Listening while a beloved teacher illustrates the way a particular composition should go, exploring the heart and soul of the piece, possibly slighting some of its technical requirements.
Hehe. Yep, those who can't -- teach. Right?
Which is more important: note-perfect execution or an exploration of the composer’s intentions?
That's a tough one. It really seems to allude a deeper philosophical question: what makes a piece of music what it is...the information in the score or the manner in which player performs it? It's a complicated question, to be sure, which requires quite a bit of nuance in answering. However, before answering we should ask, more fundamentally, why should these two be diametrically opposed? It seems that a piece could be performed note-perfect and to the composer's intention. If not, then there would seem to a fundamental flaw, a Catch-22 of sorts, in the composition to begin with. Right?
But it's your rhetorical question, so...
No-brainer: The soul wins every time.
I'm guessing the "soul" is the composer's "intention", not the actual notes he wrote. From the point of view of the listener I can understand this feeling.
So, having attended the concert, enlighten us to the "soulful" rendering of the evening's performances.
So, while the faculty artists who performed at the Sarasota Music Festival Artist Showcase Thursday afternoon did not always achieve technical perfection, they fulfilled their roles as mentors and teachers of the fine young musicians who are training with them at the festival.
Huh? Because the faculty performed, and didn't achieve technical perfection, they were mentors and teachers?
The best example of this important distinction...
That performing all the right notes isn't important?
...was found in John Perry’s intensely engaging rendition of Robert Schumann’s moving and challenging Fantasy in C Major, an extended reaction to forced separation from his beloved Clara.
Which is why he dedicated the work to Franz Liszt? (note: link is to a pdf of the score)
And which (the infallible) wikipedia claims was composed in part as a monument to Beethoven, even quoting Beethoven in the work?
But whatever, I get it...all great composers get boiled down to one or two simple storylines: Mozart's all-consuming genius, Beethoven's deafness/savior of concerts with new music, Schumann's love of Clara/going crazy, and Brahms' love of the corn dog pizza.
figure corn dog pizza: And people say America doesn't invent anything anymore.
But we were talking about how great the interpretation of the piece was...
Perry’s performance was by no means technically perfect...
Yeah, I think you've mentioned that.If there's one thing performers love, it's having wrong notes pointed out to them.
...but it was touching in its intensity, powerful in its commitment to communication.
And this intensity and commitment to communication was enhanced by the lack of concern for right notes and technical perfection?
It's an interesting theory, but I'm going to need some convincing as to how the "heart and soul" of the piece was enhanced at the expense of the technical aspects of the piece.
Tell us more about how the performer plumbed the emotional depths of Schumann's desperation over his separation from his beloved Clara?
Yes, notes were missed,...
No, no, we get it. Ix-nay on the ong-wray otes-nay.
...there were messy and muddy moments,...
(This sure is a funny looking positive review.)
...but the final result was an appreciation of both the genius of Schumann and the influence of Perry on his students.
Please pardon me if I'm asking an obvious question, but how was this muddy, messy, technically imperfect performance an appreciation of the influence of Perry on his students?
I'm not sure we're getting anywhere, how about we check in on some of the other faculty performances.
The same evaluations...
Again, the technical and emotional battle for supremacy.
...applied to an over-cautious performance of Gioachino Rossini’s youthful “indiscretion” — his String Quartet No. 1, in an arrangement for winds, performed with great skill but very little witty spirit by Leone Buyse, flute; Franklin Cohen, clarinet; Frank Morelli, bassoon; and William Purvis, horn.
Okay, let's summarize...the Schumann had wrong notes, but was ultimately a good performance. And by contrast, the Rossini was played with "great skill" (which I can only assume means all the right notes), but wasn't spirited, and therefore not as satisfying a performance.
Hmmm...I'm beginning to see your point. This is indeed a conundrum.
Where was the mischievous wit for which Rossini was famous,... It was probably lost in all the right notes being played...
...even at the age of 12,...
Wait, pardon the interruption -- Rossini was famous for his mischievous wit when he was 12? Famous with who -- his mom?
figure Rossini: Getting a lecture from his parents after his famous mischievousness caused him to trample Mr. Wilson's newly planted begonias.
...when he is alleged to have written this charming piece? Perhaps the performance suffered from an excess of good taste.
Just like the corn dog pizza.
That caution may also have affected the first piece on the program;...
The way they performed the Rossini may have affected the first piece? I'm assuming the "first piece on the program" was performed before the Rossini...right?
...Erno Dohnanyi’s “Aria,” performed by Buyse and Jonathan Spivey, piano, in which cautious good taste may have resulted in flute tone slightly under pitch.
Sounds like another excellent teaching moment for the kiddies. Intonation, just like accurate notes, aren't as important as the soul. Right?
Also, I have no idea what "cautious good taste" means. But it obviously is something to avoid. ...or not?
But back to our exploration of technical versus emotional. It seems what we have here, with the Dohnanyi, is a less than technically perfect performance, that was at the same time also suffering from "good taste" (e.g. not a satisfying emotional performance).
Does this suggest a flaw in our basic premise?
Hmmm...one more example maybe?
Yasha Heifetz’s clever arrangements of arias from George Gershwin’s glorious folk opera, “Porgy and Bess,” performed by Alexander Kerr, violin, and Jean Schneider, piano, was much more like the expectations of the students in the audience in its energy and swing.
Wait, I thought all these wrong notes, lack of wit, and bad intonations were what we expect when our beloved teachers perform for us? But I guess I should have assumed that when you said it had "energy and swing", that meant it was "exploring the heart and soul of the piece, possibly slighting some of its technical requirements." However, I'm not quite sure how the example of this dichotomy was a positive learning experience for the kiddies -- I guess we're teaching them priorities?
But, perhaps your larger point stands, that technical blemishes aren't as detrimental to the success of a performance as are cautious, unspirited performances. I suppose that there is some truth to this notion when it comes to live performances. How these two facets of musical performance became inversely intertwined remains a mystery to me. But I suppose there's a logic to it, that people wished to be moved by music, not impressed by it.
And while I'm certain that the case has yet to be proven, I think there is sufficient evidence that emotional performances are the greater performances. And for that reason, I am ordering that technical perfection keep at least 500 yards from the "heart and soul" of a piece at all times.
Opinions are important. They make a critic, or a critique, what they are -- an educated, reflective review and discerning examination of the relative value of a given piece of music or concert. They can also be fun, primarily in challenging standard orthodoxies and bringing new perspectives to common pieces and experiences.
Then again, some opinions are just...inexplicable.
The Kansas City Chamber Orchestra’s last concert of the season featured Mozart’s last work. The Mozart piece, his 1791 Requiem Mass, was preceded by Igor Stravinsky’s 1938 “Dumbarton Oaks” chamber concerto.
An interesting combination of pieces. While certainly accessible for a chamber ensemble, the Mozart Requiem (with a very sizable choral component) seems a very large scale work by comparison to the Stravinsky. But, whatever...I'm game.
Conductor Bruce Sorrell kept the 15 or 16 instrumental voices in the score in good balance.
That's good. Plus specifics are overrated.
He conducted with precision and gave the music an appropriately playful feel.
Appropriate is nice.
This cheery little item...
the Stravinsky?
...is often compared to Bach’s Brandenburg concerti.
Yes, I've heard that. In fact, I think Stravinsky even mentioned this himself:
“I played Bach very regularly during the composition of the concerto,and I was greatly attracted to the Brandenburg Concertos. Whether or not the first theme of my first movement is a conscious borrowing from the third of the Brandenburg set, however, I do not know. What I can say is that Bach would most certainly have been delighted to loan it to me; to borrow in this way was exactly the sort of thing he liked to do."
Yes..."borrow".
Anywho, so one would do well to compare to this piece to the Bach Brandenburg concerti I would say. Go on...
A better comparison might be to music from the mid-18th century Mannheim school.
A better comparison, eh? Even better than the piece the composer even admitted he stole, er...borrowed themes from?
Explain.
Mannheim composers wrote the same kind of elegant, polished,...
Elegant, polished...yes yes. These were indeed traits of the neo-classical style, which was the style at the time, that Stravinsky embraced while composing this piece. What else...?
...the same kind of elegant, polished, commercially successful music that Stravinsky did.
Yes, commercially succ...wait...what?
Stravinsky wrote commercially successful music? "Dumbarton Oaks" is a commercially successful piece?
I have no idea what this means. I guess compared to Henri Pousseur Stravinsky wrote commercial music...
figure pousseur: Was always secretly disappointed that his Dichterliebesreigentraum (1992-3) didn't even crack the Billboard Hot 100, but UB40's crappy remake of "Can't Help Falling in Love" was #1 for 7 weeks.
And, like Stravinsky’s music, Mannheim music is easy to forget before intermission.
Forgettable?! Stravinsky's music is forgettable? I apparently don't know what the word 'forgettable' means.
Are we talking about the same Stravinsky?
But that matrix of forgettable music has to be there for unforgettable music to be written — and Mozart’s Requiem is unforgettable.
Whew. I thought you were being a tad dismissive at first, but I think I get it now. We need Stravinsky's forgettable music so we can fully appreciate good music from a composer who never wrote forgettable music.
Good call. Really, we should have a term for music like this. Any thoughts?
Thus Sorrell aptly described the Stravinsky as a “palate cleanser” for the Mozart.
Perfect. Stravinsky's music is like an unsalted cracker, or even better, a fruit sorbet.
figure palate cleanser: Bottled Stravinsky. Available in 6, 12 and 24 packs.
One thing that is certain in the world of print media criticism: space is limited, which makes the art of description difficult. However, in a nine-hundred-word review, it shouldn’t be too much of a problem.
At first I thought Timothy Mangan, of the Orange County Register, was about to savage some poor orchestra, but he seems to play it a little safer and turns in a somewhat amusing meta-review.
A music critic for the Orange County Register in California felt the life being sucked out of him during a concert last week but was able to continue working to the end of the event.
Gustav is a fan of the third person. But, seriously, Gustav's totally been there. And for some reason, this idea of the life-sucking concert reminds him of this quote from Stravinsky:
"Why is it that whenever I hear a piece of music I don't like, it's always by Villa-Lobos?"
Exactly.
Timothy Mangan, the newspaper’s music critic since the latter part of the 20th century, sensed that he was “losing his will to live” during a performance of Rachmaninoff’s Symphonic Dances by the local orchestra on Thursday.
Rachmaninoff will do that to you.
figure sergei: Rachmaninoff will sure haunt Gustav's dreams tonight, and, quite possibly, suck his will to live.
[snip]...
Rachmaninoff has long been a weak part of Mangan’s game. In 2006 he was accused of falling asleep during a performance of the composer’s Second Symphony.
Gustav's pretty sure falling asleep is the desired effect.
In 2001, he sent a freelance writer to review a concert that included Rachmaninoff’s Third Piano Concerto. He walked out of the movie “Shine.”
Shine did suck, didn't it?
But, frankly, these are impressive credentials you're tossing around. That kind of antipathy for such a beloved composer is just a rare trait for a critic nowadays.
But he has usually been able to write around the weakness using sparkling verbiage and sarcasm.
Of course, you are a music critic.
Some worried that the Symphonic Dances incident, coming so late in the season, would put him out for the rest of the schedule.
Just be glad it wasn't the Bruch Violin Concerto, some Strauss waltzes, or even worse, a Bruckner symphony. If all three of those ever end up on the same concert, Gustav can't even begin to imagine the carnage.
“No, I’m all right, I’m getting treatment. My doctors gave me a box set of Stravinsky. 22 CDs. I’m supposed to listen to a disc a day. So far, it’s working.”
Stravinsky does cure what ails you...at least where music and quotes about Villa-Lobos are concerned.
-------------------------------------
I must say, it's nice when critics, like Timothy Mangan has done, try something new with their writing.
However, I'm not really sure what to make of this article. It is funny...yeah, in parts. But to what extent does it even make any kind of argument...at all? Anyway, give it a read and let us know what you think. Funny? Pointless? A little of each?
I recently became aware of a rather amusing exchange between an author/journalist of history, science and nature, and the cult-ish world of secondary education band programs.
figure band: Nerds.
Band music is, for the most part, absolutely awful. I think that's clear to most right thinking people. And while the academy and good composers have known this decades (which is why so few will ever write for band), it seems to be a little acknowledged reality.
You should read the whole article, but let me highlight the basic gist of his article:
That Piece [the generic name he gives to bad band music] is nearly always written by someone who (a) is alive and collecting royalties, and (b) has a master's degree in music education. It is always preceded by a very wordy description, read out to the audience by way of preparation, explaining that the piece (a) was inspired by a medley of Lithuanian folk songs and Gregorian chants that the composer heard while researching his master's degree; or (b) depicts the journeys of Lewis and Clark and, if you listen carefully, you will hear the American Indian motif that represents the faithfulness and courage of their young Native American guide Sacagawea and then in the saxophones the sound of the rapids as the raft approaches and then the warning cry from one of the men on the bank and then the raft plunging down the rapids and then the return to calmer waters and then another set of rapids approaching and then. . . , or (c) evokes the soaring ideals we can all aspire to. (Pieces in this last category usually have "eagle" in their titles.) If I've heard That Piece once, I've heard it a hundred times. Different composers, different titles, same bombastic banality.
For example:
embeddence bombastic banality: Some piece of crap called "The Great Locomotive Chase"
Mr. Budiansky wonders why these bands don't play music he, or anybody else, has ever heard before? Or will ever hear again? The closest thing I've heard to a real Sousa was a creation called "Sousa! Sousa! Sousa!" that (according to the publisher's description) "includes famous themes from 'Manhattan Beach' and 'El Capitan' along with just a hint of 'Semper Fidelis' and other Sousa favorites."
Although, he does concede...
I do understand the pedagogic purpose behind this stuff. Beethoven didn't have to come up with music scored for middle school bands made up of 57 alto saxophones, 40 trumpets, 15 percussionists and one oboe. Fair enough.
Fair enough.
Although, it seems that Mr. Budiansky's and I have slightly different tastes in music -- I wouldn't consider it a crime if Sousa's music was wiped from the face of this planet (save for the "Liberty Bell March", which is, of course, awesome) -- that doesn't detract from his larger point which is a good one.
How in the hell are we going to create a new generation of classical music lovers if they're forced to appreciate music solely through the examples of James Swearingen and W. Francis McBeth?
embeddence sousa: I will allow this.
As an interesting diversion his article is funny and contains plenty of good observations, but you'd hardly think it'd go any further than that.
Nope, Mr. Budiansky's comments received an outpouring of support from readers and members of the educational world. He then collaborated on a research article for the Journal of the World Association for Symphonic Bands and Ensembles (WASBE), with the director of the United States Marine Band to, as he puts it, "document the extent of the problem and how it has destroyed the musical education of a whole generation of children." Awesome.
figure gymnasium concert: The Sousa was sublime!
There's actually some nice research of "educational" music and it's failures, plus some interesting data of what is actually being performed by our middle and high school bands.
As result, Mr. Budiansky was asked to speak at the WASBE conference to elaborate and clarify his comments some. Drawing particular ire from Mr. Budiansky was the idea that all this crappy music was written for the benefit of the student.
I recently was sent a demo CD of Robert W. Smith’s “Symphony No. Three” and the description that accompanied it had literally nothing to do with music or art, and everything to do with marketing. It was all about how the solos are liberally cross-cued and how the final movement will “bring the audience to their feet.”
I should mention that Mr. Budiansky seems to particularly dislike the music of Robert W. Smith. It's really a running theme throughout all of his writing on the subject. I can't say that I blame him.
embeddence Robert W. Smith: It's about Don Quixote so, you know, it sounds Spanish-y.
And it was interesting to contrast this with Gunther Schuller’s description of his own recent composition for high school band. His description was all about his artistic goals and the challenge of maintaining his artistic objectives within the constraints of writing for middle-level players. He also stressed how he wanted to challenge students by making them responsible for their own parts—so no doubling and safety nets—and how he was breaking the supposed rules of school band music in doing so.
And we get to the heart of the issue in... 3... 2... 1...
And I thought how remarkably ironic, that a real composer with a reputation outside of the school music racket is writing a piece not only with more artistic merit but more educational value than the stuff produced by the writers who specialize in the education market. And of course what that really underscores is that the writers for the ed market don’t really care about education. They care about marketability, and that’s come down to getting “superior” ratings at contests with pieces that sound harder than they are; it comes down to pieces that are quote "safely cross cued” to cover up mistakes; it comes down to not challenging students with something that might expose their flubs; it comes down to appealing to the lowest common denominators of ignorance and surface flash to produce pieces with built in applause lines at the end and lots of percussion activity in the middle.
I couldn't agree with this more. Dead on assessment in my experience.
Which is why it went over about as well as lead balloon. This email from the President of WASBE worries that criticism of this music will offend publishers and cause WASBE to lose it's funding for its super important conference. Gasp!
-------------------------------------
The whole incident is, of course, amusing. Because it's always funny to mock crappy composers like Robert W. Smith. But really, I bring this discussion to Detritus because I believe, that like me, most of the readers here care desperately about maintaining and growing appreciation of music in future generations. What a complete wasteland our school music programs have become. School bands are populated by the very people in who engendering a love of music should be easy, but instead we force them to play shitty music and make stupid designs on football fields. As Mr. Budiansky points out, competitions have become the most important part of any school music program. And just how standardized tests have replaced an emphasis on critical thinking in general education curriculum, various "all-region" competitions have replaced any attempt to teach children about music in our music programs.
I once stood in front of class of 22 music majors at a large public university and played the opening of Beethoven's 5th Symphony (yes, the very very opening part) and asked the students to name the piece. Only two knew the answer. Holy fuck, before that I actually would have thought that impossible. It was actually a pretty depressing moment. Not that they should know that particular composition above any other (although, they really should), but that they really didn't know any music. At all. There are lots of people to blame, and school music programs are right at the top of the list. Seriously, it's their job to teach music, and Elliot Del Borgo doesn't even come close to making the short list -- or the long one.
embeddence worst band piece ever: Just because this is the worst band piece ever.
---------------------------
You can also find all the relevant links on Stephen Budiansky's personal webpage in a section he has humorously titled "The wonderful people who killed school music".
Rich Freedman has the story for the Times-Herald, "serving Solano and Napa counties since 1875".
Dawn Harms loved her 10-day stay in Japan. Loved? Really? Surely there must have been at least one problem.
One problem.
See.
While the San Franciscan is mentally ready for her May 1 concert with the Vallejo Symphony, her body's still on Tokyo time.
Unfortunate. A rare condition that I believe is called desynchronosis. Those circadian rhythms can be a bitch.
"I get up every morning at 3," Harms said, laughing that "even though my name is 'Dawn,' I'm not a morning person. I wish I was named 'Dusk.' But not many people are named 'Dusk.'"
Har har har.
"Dusk."
"Not a morning person."
[wipes tear from eye]
"I'm not a stiff 'prom dress' playing," she said.
?
"I love to do characters. Maybe I'll have a surprise for the encore" in Vallejo.
Ooh ooh. Can you do Arnold Schwarzenegger? I just love that crazy accent!
No cardboard violinist is this honored musician.
Oh, she does Yoda?
figure yoda: When nine hundred years old you reach, look as good, you will not, hrm?
Wait...not a cardboard violinist?
[checks photo on article website again]
figure dusk: Dawn with what appears to be a...cello? Or maybe she just has a really tiny head?
That's enough introduction...how about you randomly change topics?
"My goal is that people learn something and, at some point, be entertained," Harms said. "Often people think, 'Classical music? I don't want to go.' That's exactly what I think, too. Classical music is soooo boring.
They think they'll get a good nap.' My goal is to keep people awake."
That's a good goal. Keep the bar low, and you're sure to find success.
Also, apostrophe fail?
As of earlier this week, that was a personal problem.
?
Wait, her goal was a personal problem?
Harms had been back in the Bay Area six days yet still adjusted to the 16 hour difference -- and the food that never found an oven.
?
figure confused: Look, now you've gone and confused this otter.
Harms had been back in the Bay Area six days yet still adjusted to the 16 hour difference...
Wait. Her goal is to keep bored audience members awake, but that was a personal problem. And having been back 6 days, she still adjusted?
Sorry, Rich. I tried. But you've lost me.
And since we're already mid-sentence, how about another random topic change?
-- and the food that never found an oven.
?
"Raw everything. You had to catch them to eat," Harms said.
Them what?
For an classical concert preview, this article is taking a strange turn.
"There was this big snail-looking that that was looking at me. I wanted the 'old-style experience' and we got it."
?
"That that"?
And, though she knows little Japanese and her audience knew very little English, "you understand each other when youjust play music," Harms said. "That was a bridge. They knew Bach, Mozart and Vivaldi and loved it all. It was a real fun experience."
Yep. Music is the universal language...or something like that.
figure universality of music: Those headphones must be nearly 10000 miles in diameter! And how come only Japan and Europe get to listen?
Harms joked that her career goal "is to play every English-speaking country in the world" and that her Japanese concert 'was not a good place to start.
Strange career goal...and yes, Japan would be an odd place to start that goal.
Wait, are you sure you're from California, and not, say, Texas?
Also, another apostrophe fail? Really?
They didn't speak a word of English. I heard they all started English in the seventh grade. They must have all failed."
Stupid Japanese people speaking only...Japanese. Education fail.
Seriously...you're not from Alabama?
[snip]
Though admitting violinists "break strings all the time," the Hogan concert surely can't be as terrorizing as those dreaded moments as a 12-year-old musician when Harms' violin strap fell into the toilet right before competing.
In the toilet?
"As nerve-wracking as the competition was, I had to use the restroom," Harms said. "And when my strap fell in the toilet, I was mortified."
Clearly suicide was the only option left to you, right? It was almost 10 years later that Harms made her Carnegie Hall debut as part of a violin-cello-piano trio.
Interesting segue. Strap in the toilet led her to Carnegie Hall...truly a great American rags to riches story.
"Everyone came from everywhere, my dentist sent me 12 roses and there was a great review in the New York Times," recalled Harms.
Your dentist? She was about the age of her Stanford students, most of whom will go on to become engineers, biologists and doctors.
They don't have sociology majors at Stanford?
"They don't necessarily go on to a career in music," Harms said. "But one goal I have is that when they do go on, they donate money to an orchestra." Huh?
You played a concert at Carnegie Hall while you were at the same age as students at Stanford who will become doctors. And those doctors won't have a career in music, but that's fine as long as they donate to an orchestra?
Kate Coleman wants to uncover why music gives her "goosebumps".
figure why goosebumps?: Because music is magic!
I'm not sure what inspired me a couple of months ago to hunt down a YouTube video of Luciano Pavarotti singing "Nessun Dorma," an aria from Puccini's "Turandot."
It was probably this performance ("Nessun dorma" as performed by heavy metal group Manowar):
[And, oh, it's also that song that every classically trained singer uses to sell records, was the theme song to the 1990 World Cup, the finale to the Opening Ceremony of the Torino Winter Olympics, used significantly in popular films like The Killing Fields, The Sum of All Fears, and Bend It Like Beckham, famously performed by Aretha Franklin at the 1998 Grammys, covered endlessly by pop artists like Russell Watson, Sarah Brightman, Neal E. Boyd, and so on...]
A phrase of the music from I don't know where was stuck in my mind.
Kate Coleman doesn't know where that phrase of the music comes from?
Kate Coleman doesn't like commas. Or comprehension.
I am not a huge opera fan.
Kate Colemen doesn't like opera.
I've attended exactly one opera performance in my life.
Kate Coleman doesn't like opera having seen just one opera.
Admittedly, because at the time I was a high school student...
She was in high school.
...and the venue was Convention Hall on the Asbury Park, N.J., boardwalk, my experience of Donizetti's "Lucia di Lammermoor" was far from ideal.
It was Donizetti performed on the boardwalk in New Jersey.
But Kate Coleman wants to know what's going on?
What's going on?
Good question, because how could someone with so many well-established reasons for not liking opera find herself liking a random aria that's become the epicenter of the pop-classical crossover genre?
For the record, I conducted my own little science experiment...
Ooh. I like science. I even listen to Science Friday with Ira Flatow every Monday.
Kate Coleman's experiment presumably used double-blind trials with controls for experimenter's bias and the placebo effect.
...and watched those performances again. My physical and emotional reactions were the same.
...as evidenced by her use of technical mumbo jumbo.
Kate Coleman came to two conclusions:
There are two possible explanations:
1. I'm even more emotionally on-the-edge or crazier than I thought.
Kate Coleman thinks she might be crazy.
2. There is a scientific basis for music's power over me.
Kate Coleman thinks her "scientific" experiment proves that there is a "scientific" basis for music's power.
Perhaps I'll find the answer in books I just got from the library.
Kate Coleman realizes that there are answers available in books, but knows that books are for losers.
Meanwhile, I'll stick with my own theory: Music is magic.
"Music is magic."
figure scientific evidence: I think we have confirmation of her findings!
Read more about Kate Coleman's experiment in next month's issue of Nature Magazine.
The task of the music critic is difficult, far beyond mere description and assessment. Yet, when those fail, the rest fails. As the public’s first line of reception and dissemination, critics have a double responsibility, to both the public and to the musical community at large. The deleterious effects of mischaracterization and prejudice (or laziness) contribute to a “classical” stereotype that is wholly incongruent with the reasons we continue to believe in and love the music we love. To seek correction is only natural.
We understand that the role of today’s critic is rapidly changing. Through humor and snark, we seek to provide a dialog, at once humbling, amusing and inviting, out of which may emerge positive critical perspectives and alliances that can benefit the health of our beloved musical climate.
We would not be of use, dear Detritusites, without your thoughtful comments, retorts or corrections. So please take part in our experiment.
figure reasonably-sized: Seems to fit nicely.
figure futuristic instrument: Observe the unusual shape and strange bends in this seemingly normal hunk of metal. 
