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.

You won second prize in a beauty contest--collect $10

Here’s some puffery from the Seattle Times:

Seattle Symphony takes on Mendelssohn’s ambitious 'Lobgesang'
Tom Keogh

However, there’s only so much you can say about the piece, because...

...sorry, Mendelssohn, you are not Beethoven.

"The 'Lobgesang' is a choral symphony," says [SSO music director Gerard] Schwarz. "Beethoven's Ninth [completed in 1824] was the first."

Eat Beethoven’s dust, bitch!

After Beethoven died, everyone was afraid of composing choral symphonies that would be compared to it. But Mendelssohn went ahead and did something unique.

Yeah? What was that?

The first three movements are purely instrumental.

...uh...

After that...

...

...

...

After that, profit!

Flow chart 1. The sales pitch

Details, people. Details.

Question: What do music critics value above all else?

I'm going to guess...the music.

No, no, journalistic integrity.

Perhaps, the service they provide to the community and their readers. ...

figure answer: "The...all....ighty....ollar...... Hahahah..I get it!"

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

Nat Bauer, of the Rockford Register Star, reviews the Cypress String Quartet, but more importantly has reminded me of a valuable lesson -- look deeper, and ask yourself what's missing.

Before we get to the review in question, let's start with some practice.

What's Missing?

How'd you do?

Great. Your skills have been honed and now, onto the review.

Quartet embraces classic, contemporary works

I'm glad to hear this, because those classic works are just too infrequently played and unfairly maligned. If musicians would just program these works, and give audiences the chance to get to know this music, the gifts of Georg Christoph Wagenseil and Josef Mysliveček wouldn't be lost on this generation.

So, what old, forgotten works in need of a good hug were on the concert?

Kleotzel [the cellist] introduced the first work, Mendelssohn-Bartholdy’s “Siring [sic] Quartet in A Minor, Op. 13,” also known as the “Ist es Wahr?” (“Is it True?”)

"also known as"...really? Not subtitled or inscribed...but, aka? ...I just hate when our vocabulary gives out on us.

But really, all of those would have been wrong. The piece is not subtitled "Ist es Wahr?", but instead borrows a three-note motive from a song of the same name that the composer had written a few months earlier. Small details, I know, but if you're going to mention them, accuracy helps.

And if you're into fun facts, why fail to mention that this three-note motive is eerily similar to one used in a Beethoven string quartet. String Quartet No. ...? Ooh, which one? I know I'll think of it, if you just give me a minute.

Oh well, I'm sure it'll come to me. Let's move on. What else is on the concert?

Ward [one of the violinists] introduced the next work, “Lento Assai,” which was commissioned for the quartet by Kevin Puts and premiered in February at the Library of Congress in Washington.

Details would help here too. Kevin Puts is the composer, not the commissioner. It helps when sentences make sense.

Anyways, moving on...

Borrowing some ideas from Beethoven,...

Really, like what?

...the work very slowly emerges with a pianissimo D-flat major chord,...

Oh, well, why even point out something this obvious. I mean a D-flat major chord, that just screams Beethoven. It's just like his famous D-flat major symphony, and all those D-flat major string quartets and piano sonatas.

...slowly builds to a haunting melody by first violin, expands into a more contemporary melody and harmony, then returns to conclude with the soft, subtle and almost seductive texture that began the work.

I've always enjoyed music that builds before it expands so much more than when it expands first and then builds.

Which, reminds me...what was that Beethoven quartet again?

The final work of the evening was Beethoven’s “String Quartet in F Major, Op. 135,”...

Ahh! Damn it! You beat me to it. But, that's the one.

So, this is excellent. Both pieces on the same concert -- explain to us, Mr. Bauer, how the Beethoven utilizes three-note motives and then was likely a source of inspiration for the Mendelssohn....

...which was written shortly before his death. Filner [the violist] explained that it poses two thoughts in musical motif format: “Muss es seine?” (“Must it be?”) and “Es muss seine!” (“It Must Be!”)

Okay. Yes, but what of the connection to the Mendelssohn? You hinted at it...now finish us off by explaining the similarity of the motives, and how they use similar rhythms which were derived from three word, existential questions.

To this day, 184 years later, the reason for and answer remains a mystery.

Umm...what? First, grammatically speaking, you need an object in that sentence. I assume you're referencing the quotes, so you could write, "...the reason for the quotes and their answer..." and so forth. Although, it still suffers from a lack of clarity.

Also, remains implies a singular object....
i.e. It remains...
They remain...
...so in this case we have two objects being referenced (the reason and the answer). Therefore, the sentence should read, "the reason for and answer remain a mystery."

Okay, now I'm getting sidetracked...let's try this again.

To this day, 184 years later, the reason for and answer remains a mystery. The music surrounding them, however, is classic Beethoven and has gained upper status in classical repertoire.

Mr. Bauer...praising the music is all well and good, although, I'm not sure what "upper status" means exactly, but you're missing the obvious. You're so close...you could have just made the connection between the Mendelssohn and the Beethoven and tied the whole concert (and review) together into nice, neat little package. But sadly, no.

First of all, not to be picky or anything, but the Beethoven was written in October 1826, making it pretty much exactly 183 years old. You're within a reasonable margin of error, but two seconds of research or editing would have prevented that mistake.

And, "the reason for and answer remains a mystery". Well, the quotes may have unknown origins (I'm not a German scholar, but I'd probably guess some literary source, while others have suggested they were inspired by an exchange between Beethoven and a friend regarding the payment of money), but this isn't like trying to unify relativity and quantum theory. These quotes do have some explanation -- musically speaking, Beethoven utilizes the implied rhythm of those two phrases (as though set for voice) to create his two rhythmic motives.

"Must it be?" = long, short, long
and
"It must be!" = short, long, long

...also, (and I hate to write so lengthily on this) why not mention that these motives are for the fourth movement, also known as "Der schwer gefaßte Entschluß" (or The Difficult Resolution), and not the entire work? It's kind of confusing, because it seems like you're implying that these motives are present in the first movement, and that's just wrong.

Remember, details help. Details are our friend.

The opening begins grave and poses the “Muss es seine?” motif, quickly followed by the playful and energetic allegretto. The scherzo has brilliance and a unique 50-measure robust repetitive rhythmic figure in the lower voices with first violin playing a melody like a country fiddler.

Do you see how this is confusing? You wrote about the fourth movement first (but I think you think it's the first movement), and then the second movement, which you fail to introduce as such.

Remember: Details, good. Confusion, bad. If confusing prose were an ice cream flavor, it'd be pralines and dick.

And, again with the clarity issues, "a unique 50-measure robust repetitive rhythmic figure," makes it sound like the figure that was repeated was 50 measures long. Frankly, I can think of several different ways to interpret that phrase. Your thought could so much more easily expressed if you had written something like:

...a unique 50-measure passage in the lower voices prominently featuring a robust rhythmic figure.

Or any variation of that, yes?

The third movement was very soft with a simple chorale like melody in four variations, the final movement culminating with a very definitive musical “It must be!”

figure shirt: Your article being the cognitive culmination of "It must be user error."

Okay, so you're not so much deliberately misleading us, as much as I think you're a bit confused. The first movement doesn't feature those motives. It's just in the final movement. So, the final movement is also the very definitive musical "Must it be?" as well.

figure confusing article:

"Must it be?"

"It must be!"

-----------------------------------------
Amongst all the confusing sentences, really the most confounding issue is why you failed to understand the connection between the Mendelssohn and Beethoven string quartets. You linked the Puts to Beethoven (which you hadn't even introduced as having being on the concert yet) and fail to give tangible evidence of the association, but not the Mendelssohn, which actually has a credible, if not direct connect to Beethoven himself, and specifically the Beethoven string quartet being performed on the concert?

Seriously...I had to do way too much research just to understand all of the misleading statements in your article. I know you're a busy guy...so, I wonder if the perhaps the newspaper could hire someone to help review the factual parts...but who?

Citation Is Hard; Needs More Drama

A choose your own adventure! One of the functions of the review is to inform (besides offering criticism and opinion) the reader about the concert program. This includes, conventionally, naming the pieces performed, or trying to, or something.

This review comes to us from the Ann Arbor News. There was a concert, and some works were played. Let's see if we can figure out what!

It's not often there's a bit of drama at a classical music concert,

It's not? Usually there's at least musical drama, no? Like a "what-key-are-we-in-now?" drama, or "when-is-this-Glass-piece-going-to-end?" drama.

but drama there was at the Ann Arbor Symphony Orchestra's "Midsummer in March" concert Saturday night, in honor of Mendelssohn's 200th birthday.

Apparently...some kind of extra-musical drama? Maybe the drama is in the consonance of the program title. Mendelssohn...Midsummer...March...Mmm.

The evening began with a marvelous playing of Mendelssohn's "A Midsummer Night's Dream, Op. 21, Op. 61.

Somewhere in the universe, there's a closing double-apostrophe missing its title. (Poor little guy!) Also, the citation is confusing, or wrong, or both. Mendelssohn composed the "Overture to Midsummer Night's Dream, Op. 21" in 1826. Later, in 1842, he penned the incidental music for the same play (Op. 61) which incorporates the op. 21 overture as its...overture.

I choose to believe the following: It's not often there's a bit of drama in a classical music review, but drama there is in trying to ascertain what was played at this concert.

Violins are the thing in the overture, and they were perfect.

I don't know what that means, but "thing" seems to agree with "they"...or rather, doesn't. More drama?

The flutes got a workout during the scherzo, and were more than up to the task of navigating the more tricky passages.

More more, more? (How did you like it?)

The Wedding March ended the segment, with the brass playing nicely off the strings. I was reminded of how magnificent this familiar music can be when played by a full symphony.

I'm still not certain if all of the incidental music (that's Op. 61 for those of you keeping score at home) was played or not. I do now know, however, that whatever was played was played by a "full" symphony.

Next up was J.S. Bach's intricate Concerto for Piano No. 1 in D minor, with guest pianist Joel Hastings.

Oh, sorry. I have to stop you there. The d minor Concerto (BWV 1052) was not composed for the piano, at least not as we think of it. The intended instrument was the harpsichord or perhaps clavichord; this is a small matter. But calling the work "Piano Concerto" as we think of it today is at best misleading, and at worst plain wrong.

The audience was startled when, during the first movement, Hastings abruptly stopped the performance and went to confer with conductor Arie Lipsky. When it happened again, everyone was buzzing.

Well, at least if they all had a buzz on they weren't that annoyed by the interruption?

Was Hastings upset with the orchestra? With Lipsky? That kind of thing is highly unusual.

Ah! the drama. What happened next? Was there a denouement? I hope there was a denouement.

The second movement went without a hitch, however just before the end of the third, as Hastings was playing solo, he stopped yet again.

Intriguing! A climax of sorts, perhaps?

Despite the problems, which were later attributed by A2S0 executive director Mary Steffek Blaske to memory lapse, Hastings soldiered on, playing beautifully.

The...executive director later attributed the repeated stoppages to...memory lapse? The pianist's, one assumes? Goodness gracious! How will this resolve?

He has just the right touch to let the work's subtleties shine though. At intermission, it was all anyone seemed to be talking about.

Unless I read this wrong, after all of the "drama," at intermission the audience was talking about...his touch and subtlety. One would think they'd be going on about said repeated interruptions, but...no. Unless...the paragraph is constructed this way deliberately to reflect the drama of the performance! Yes, that's it. It's a Choose Your Own Adventure: rearrange the sentences to find the intended meaning (and slay the dragon)!

Also: what happened?

A highlight of the concert was "The Wise Virgins," a suite from Walton's delicate ballet based on Bach "Sheep May Safely Graze" and others.

What?

A highlight of the concert was "The Wise Virgins,"

Okay...

...a suite from Walton's delicate ballet...

Gotcha...

...based on Bach "Sheep May Safely Graze" and others.

Do what now?

Others? Other whats? What's a Bach "Sheep May Safely Graze"? Is that like his pro wrestling nickname?

Figure 1: "Stone Cold" Steve Austin

Figure 2: Johann Sebastian "Sheep May Safely Graze" Bach?

If I may, I think it means something like:

A highlight of the concert was a suite frim Walton's delicate ballet "The Wise Virgins," based on melodies from Bach's Cantata "Sheep May Safely Graze" (BWV 208) and others.

(Incidentally, Walton's ballet "The Wise Virgins" was made up of arrangements of music by Bach, orchestrated by Walton, and is officially "lost", so I wonder where this came from.)

"Ah! How Ephemeral" simply sparkled, and concertmaster Aaron Berofsky's violin on "Sheep" was sublime.

I don't know what "Ah! How Ephemeral" is, nor whence it came. I'm all researched out.

The evening concluded with Mendelssohn's 5th "Reformation" Symphony, a real treat featuring the music of Martin Luther and concluding with the triumphant "A Mighty Fortress Is Our God."

This makes it sound like Mendelssohn composed 5 or more "Reformation" symphonies. Which is not true.

What a great way to ring in spring.

With Midsummer? Obfuscation? A bit of both?

I bet I wasn't the only one who left the Michigan Theater feeling uplifted.

But what happened to the drama? Pfft. No denouement for me.

This is Dirty

Even if Jesus was the visiting soloist, I don’t think he would have received a more “glowing” (wink, wink) review. I mean, it’s only a fucking concert, for Simon Morely and David Friend’s sakes!

Israeli violinist Vadim Gluzman, who makes his home in Chicago, almost pleads with you to watch him.

Let me guess, he takes off an item of clothing after each phrase. No. No. That would be more like a dare.

During extended measures of rest, he sways with eyes closed to the orchestra as he ponders re-entry.

I was close. And the rest of you should get your minds out of the gutter.

When he arrives at a fermata, he bends back like Jimmy Page holding out a pulsating sustain on a Telecaster.

Envious, anyone? (Empiricus, get your mind out of the gutter.)















(Not a Telecaster. Photo by Richard E. Aaron/rockpix.com)

[He] attacked the challenging concerto not from the standpoint of a virtuoso but of a probing artist.

Ah. Artists probe, virtuosos...play their instruments well. Why do I feel like I’m watching a scrambled TV channel?

I know! Because imagery is a bitch and, when done poorly, I can read it like this.

Coming soon: Artists who quote this stuff on their resumes, then probe like Jimmy Page after pondering re-entry.
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Music Espresso, How May I Help You?

There is something to be said for the consistency of analytical method in a review. There are exceptions (mostly poetic), of course, but if inconsistent, the review can easily expose its author’s biases, unfamiliarity with the work or even the low levels of caffeine in her or his system. None of which, I think we’ll all agree, makes for good, fair criticism.

In Sarah Bryan Miller’s case, one can see, via the progression of her stylistic consistency, how the St. Louis Symphony’s morning concert series may not be the best idea. That is, from a PR standpoint, if you want a good review, make sure there is plenty of espresso to wake up the critic; they often have late, late, finger-crampy nights.

Perhaps it was appropriate to open a Friday morning coffee concert with a piece by Igor Stravinsky jn [sp.] jittery, nervous mode; the Concerto in D sounds distinctly overcaffeinated in places.

Perhaps it was the sheer rudeness of being disturbed before Stage N3 was complete, but isn’t it Sarah’s job to be wide awake and alert?

Apparently, the coffee hadn’t worked its magic, yet.

The Concerto demands great technical ability, but doesn’t offer listeners much to cherish. From its skittish opening, it drifts into a limping dance and a melody that loses its way -- and back into anxiety.

I can just see the eye crusties and the unwillingness to listen. Maybe a few yawns and a cowlick or two.

However, by saying that the piece “doesn’t offer listeners much to cherish” is downright lazy. (Personally, I wasn't familiar with the Concerto in D, so I took a few minutes to become acquainted, at which time I found this lovely little YouTube video of the middle movement, and an article written by Greg Sandow who said this about it:

One of my great musical pleasures — in many ways a guilty one — is the slow movement of Stravinsky's Concerto in D, written in 1946 for string orchestra. Stravinsky, of course, was a Very Serious Composer, but in the 1930's and 40's he wrote some fluff, and this slow movement sounds, I swear, a bit like Mantovani, the man who once reigned as the king of easy listening.

Not exactly “limping” by my account, anyway.) It’s lazy because it doesn’t make its case very well. Why does “skittish” to “limping” to “anxiety” make for a bad piece of music? I don’t think there’s anything inherently non-cherishable about this description or progression of descriptors.

No doubt, the coffee hadn’t settled in.

The compactness of the first half was accentuated by having the conductor double as soloist in the morning’s second work. Leonidas Kavakos, an estimable violinist who made his Symphony conducting debut on Friday morning, led a small chamber ensemble in J.S. Bach’s Violin Concerto in D minor, BWV 1052.

As a violinist, Kavakos offered his usual spot-on accuracy, with great beauty in the lyric passages and technique to spare. As conductor, he had great interaction with the players in the front stands; some of the lower strings, however, didn’t stay with him as well.

And that’s all there was to say about the Bach. No “good piece.” No “bad Bach.” It just was.

I liken this to that moment of repose after waking up, having had the first sip of Sanka, sort of neither fully conscious nor asleep, but still kind of functional, spewing out inconsistent gibberish and clichés like “technique to spare.”

But don’t worry. Sarah was fully awake for the second half. I’m guessing another cup of Joe and a cigarette during intermission.

The second half was a reasonably solid, if not overwhelming, performance of Felix Mendelssohn’s Symphony No. 3 in A minor, op. 56, "Scottish."

HYOPERBOLE TIME! I’M WIDE AWAKE. JITTERY AND OVERCAFFIENATED IN PLACES! OVERWHELMING! AHHHH! BUZZZZZ! ROMANTIC SWEEP! ROMANTIC ARCHING! NARRATIVING NARRATIVES! WEEEEEEE! BLACK! NO SUGAR! SUN-DAPPLED WHIMSY!

The Mendelssohn, a full-blown Romantic work, offers an abundance of melody and evocative tonal painting to gladden the heart and ears of the most traditional of concertgoers.

A Note to the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra Program Director: Let’s make it the “Friday Lunch Time Tea & Cookie Concert Series.” Please.
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Kosman's Wang: Tonally Firm

In a review of the same concerts featuring pianist Yuja Wang (see previous post), Joshua Kosman of the San Francisco Chronicle... well, I’m not quite sure what he does. Suffice it to say it’s awkward. There has to be a better way to say it.

In an otherwise exemplary review, he says this:

More striking, though, was the way she brought out the humor in the outer movements [...] and contrasted that with the radiant tonal colors of the slow movement.

Italics mine. Did she really contrast the humor with tonal colors? Aren’t they Mendelssohn’s colors? Tonal as opposed to atonal colors? Were the outer movements atonal? Was Mendelssohn’s tonal language ever in dispute? Radiant tonal colors are the opposite of humor?

I’m not entirely sure what is meant by this. Maybe just “colors” would be enough to make this intelligible. Though, even then, I’d want a little qualification, since “colors” isn’t exactly precise.

Later on, the same problem arises.

Perhaps that sense of haste was helpful in goosing the performers out of the unruffled sleekness that is the Academy's house style, or perhaps it was simply Wang's vivacious contributions. Whatever the reason, the concerts sounded rhythmically fresh and tonally firm.

“Goosing the performers” is fun. But...

Tonally firm? This could mean any number of things, including: “Since I believe that one of the priorities of music criticism is to educate the readers, I will do the opposite. I will confuse them to the point where things become ambiguous, or worse, meaningless.” Go MCANA!

Rhythmically fresh could use some qualification, too.

Seriously, does Joshua mean “tonal,” or does he really mean “intoned,” or “harmonic,” or “sonic,” or “winningly sardonic,” or “alluringly misplaced for prosaic effect?”

Either way, it’s confusing. It’s a good thing, too, because...

Mendelssohn's early String Symphony No. 10 in B Minor filled out the program alluringly.

Winningly sardonic italics mine.