And once again, a day-time talk show has shown us the way...

It's tricky business commenting on and critiquing the work of others, and I'm speaking of our work here at the Detritus and not just the role of the critic in general. I've read a lot of reviews in the past couple years and I'm starting to wonder if I can ever be satisfied.

With that...

Music Review: Richmond Symphony Orchestra
Devorah Ben-David, Richmond Times-Dispatch, March 6, 2011

The Richmond Symphony Orchestra wowed classical music aficionados during its Masterworks performance at the Carpenter Theatre.

Well, surely this review will break the trend.

However, I’m curious why classical music aficionados were singled out here. I guess the obvious implication is that regular music aficionados and general classical music patrons were un-wowed by the performance at the Carpenter Theatre.

Intriguing, indeed.

"Dancers, Dreamers and Presidents for Orchestra," written by Haitian-American contemporary composer…

I like what I see here. New music...and one and a half sentences without the need to snark.

But yes, that contemporary music does tend to scare of those classical music novices.

…Daniel Bernard Roumain, launched the energetic opening piece.

A rough turn of phrase, to be sure, but you still have me. New music wows classical music lovers -- good news indeed!

So, can I hope for more than a one sentence review? Some in depth history or analysis? And more importantly, that this contemporary composition isn't just viewed through the lens of some gimmick, and be allowed to exist by itself as a work of art?

It was inspired by a 21-second dance shared by then-Sen. Barack Obama and Ellen DeGeneres on her TV show in 2007.

Hmmm… er. I hope this piece isn't as lame as it already sounds. Sorry, Daniel. I’m sure it’s a great piece and all (I mean, it did wow classical music aficionados), but just because it’s contemporary doesn’t make it not cheesy.

Remember, how we discuss music colors the reactions of others...and I'm not just alluding to critics. Contemporary music cannot just be another scavenger of the trash-heap of pop culture.

But, how about alleviating some of my concerns that this is just some trite gimmick about “hope” and what not?

His message is one of hope that the road to peace might be better served by dancing together than haggling over our differences.

figure misunderstood: "It's trying to bringing love! Don't let it get away! Break its legs!"

Who knew that the road to world peace went through a moderately amusing segment on a morning talk show.

I guess I shouldn't talk since I did write my Will it Float? Symphony.

And I do love when music is about all that hope-y, change-y stuff. It’s a powerful message, no doubt. One I’m not sure many composers have the courage to put out there.

The composition, which was commissioned by the Sphinx Commissioning Consortium, is fundamentally a dance piece.

Meaning people are intended to dance to it? How many dance halls employ full symphony orchestras nowadays?

It appears to include a part of everything Roumain has met in his musical life in terms of the classical and pop world.

Oh boy, a piece about world peace that bridges the divide (once again) between classical music and pop music.

I’m sorry. I love new music.

Snap out of it, Gustav.

As the three movements of the piece unveil, the element of surprise is intriguing. "Dancers" begins with a banging solo…

Is that “banging” as in awesome, or “banging” as in whacking stuff with sticks?

…for the timpani and drum kit, so reminiscent of Afro-Caribbean melodies.

I’m not sure which part that sentence is extraneous…the “so” or the comma, but we definitely need to lose one. And I think you mean rhythms and not melodies here. But, what do I know.

In "Dreamers," the contrabass section makes its dramatic entry, while another incarnation of musical vignette unfolds.

Really, is there any part of the music that doesn’t “unfold”, or isn’t “musical”?

Chordal patterns again repeat in "Presidents"…

Chordal patterns do tend to do that, from time to time.

…but quickly morph into hip-hop beats creating a crowded score.

And this too, although, I would wager with slightly less frequency.

figure presidential dignity: The Ellen Show quickly morphing into hip-hop beats with an actual presidential candidate.

Here Roumain's musical interpretation comes off as fragmented. But this may be purely intentional, as discontent ultimately breeds fragmentation in our world.

You're theorizing that his fragmented musical interpretation was intention. Wait, his music interpretation of what...hip-hop? And whose discontent are we talking about?

What we have here is a failure to communicate. Now, this seems to be an interesting analysis of the eclectic juxtapositions being made in this piece, but if you think about it for a second, I have no idea what the author is talking about. It may very well be that his fragmented musical interpretation was intentional. But, his music interpretation of what...hip-hop? And whose discontent are we talking about?

I should slow down though. For all my grousing, I do laud the author for taking the time to discuss this piece in such detail…especially when most critics would save their column inches for these next two works.

Tomasi's Concerto for Trumpet and Orchestra

Ah, the Tomasi Trumpet Concerto...I have been known to partake of this particular concerto from time to time. It is a striking piece, and as Philip Ramey writes in the liner notes to Wynton Marsalis' recording of this piece:

"Perhaps the most striking elements of this brittle yet lyric piece are the opening movement's trumpet cadenza with quiet snare-drum background and the jaunty cartoon-music finale."

Couldn't have said it better myself.

The trumpet, which dates to at least 1,500 B.C., has been a victim of musical snobbery in history.

Snobbery, eh? Do you have any particular composer in mind? Mozart was rumored to be a trumpet-ist.

But certainly not when Thomas Hooten is playing "Concerto for Trumpet" by French composer Henri Tomasi.

Wait, the trumpet players were the snobs?

The lyrical piece is neo-classic in texture, melody and rhythm and has three of the maestro's signature trademarks. The music is structured, concise and clear.

How convenient that three of Tomasi’s trademarks are completely consistent with all neo-classical music.

While some may regard this particular work as slightly brittle,…

Brittle?

Huh. I wonder who "some" might be.

…Hooten breathes life into the opening movement of the trumpet cadenza.

Cadenza = concerto?

While he appears to fatigue a bit during the cartoon-music finale, he nonetheless leaves the stage with a standing ovation.

Is it normal that only players who don’t get tired during a concerto get standing ovations?

And that's so funny that you called it a "cartoon-music finale"? I guess it didn't realize how clearly that finale sounds like cartoon music.

figure unoriginal: Hey, who's your favorite player?

Symphony No. 6 in B Minor, Opus 74, "Pathétique"

One of the great classical music composers is Pyotr Il'yich Tchaikovsky.

Are you writing a report for your high school music appreciation course? Here, let me save you some time by giving you part of a report I wrote on Tchaikovsky.

Tchaikovsky was born on May 7, 1840 and died of suicidal cholera on November 6, 1893. Although, he was Russian, Tchaikovsky was no communist as attested to by his pro-American anthem, the “1812 Overture”, written in honor of the glorious victory of America over the forces of evil (France) for a 4th of July celebration. Equally famous for his symphonic, ballet and operatic output, he strongly resented the trumpet.

And while Symphony No. 6 in B Minor was meant to be a celebration of life, he died nine days after its premiere.

How pathetic. But it’s a good thing that his death couldn’t actually rewrite the music, which should still sound like a celebration of life, right?

It begins with the somber voice of the double basses and is punctuated by the violas' mournful voice.

That’s not how I’d compose a piece celebrating life, but I’m not one of the great classical music composers either.

Listening carefully, one instinctively feels that something is haunting the composer's mind.

Aren’t the concepts of “listening carefully” and “instinctively” sort of at odds with each other?

Can I find fault with any sentence? Are all my comments in the form of questions? Never mind.

If only Tchaikovsky had called 555-2368, maybe the music wouldn’t have retroactively been rewritten. And maybe he might still be alive today.

The Richmond Symphony Orchestra does a flawless job of interpreting this agitation. All that was left in its wake was thunderous applause.

They applauded Tchaikovsky’s inner turmoil and utter demise? That seems like a bit of a jerk move don’t you think?

New Music's Overton Window

I was downright excited to see the title of this review!

Young Composers' Style, Form Make Good Match
Lynn Green, Columbus Dispatch, 10/8/2010

Young composers, eh? Good to see new art being encouraged in Ohio.

The prodigiousness of young composers took the stage Saturday as violinist Vadim Gluzman joined the ProMusica Chamber Orchestra...

That's a pretty big name to bring in to play new music by young, relatively unknown composers. Good show.

...for the "Mostly Mendelssohn" concert at the Southern Theatre.

Oh. Mostly Mendelssohn. Okay.

Well, that's fair; programming unfamiliar works on concerts with well-established repertoire is a time-honored strategy for keeping the blue-hairs and curmudgeons happy while simultaneously promoting more adventurous fare.

The bulk of the concert's length went to Mendelssohn's works,

Right; as implied. And?

...but the program also included works by Alfred Schnittke.

O-kay.

Don't get me wrong, I love me some Schnittke. (He's awesome.)

Figure 1: Alfred Schnittke

But I was promised young composers. Who else was on the program? Someone...young? Or, I don't know...not dead?

Although nearly 100 years separate the two, their innovative styles and use of traditional forms and harmonies makes them an interesting match.

So...nobody? What's up with that?

[snip]

Gluzman and the orchestra performed Schnittke's Fugue for Violin Solo and Mendelssohn's Concerto in D minor for Violin and String Orchestra as a single unit. These pieces were composed, respectively, at age 19 and 14.

Wait. The concert was music by "young" composers only insofar as both dead men's works were written while they were young?

[snip]

The soloist and the orchestra played cohesively, combining artistry with technical prowess, and adeptly demonstrated the youthful sophistication of these two well-known composers.

Yeah, that cold sucks. I mean it sounds like a good concert and all; cheers for programming the relatively little-heard Mendelssohn d minor concerto (instead of the ubiquitous e minor warhorse).

But "new music" seems today to mean "written since 1900," and now "young composers" doesn't mean "people writing music who are young right now" either.

At a certain point, the bar is set so low that one isn't worried about hitting one's head so much as banging one's shins.

Will the next Mozart please stand up?

Much time is wasted discussing what's wrong with classical music. These complaints cover many aspects of the classical music culture, from concert rituals, to education and public advocacy, to style and content. There are plenty of wonderful ideas and innovations, and lots of smart, dedicated people intent upon affecting positive change and facilitating the further evolution of classical music. To my thinking many of the ideas out there are trivial changes and mostly meaningless, but there are points to be made.

But on the other hand, then there are people who argue what Gary Panetta, of the Peoria Journal Star, argues. He moves right past issues of availability, education, and a dated concert ritual and goes straight to blaming the most obvious party -- the composers.

Will the next Mozart please stand up?

Here’s a comment that will probably confirm me as Philistine in most people’s minds, but I’m going to make it anyway.

Well, a Philistine, generally speaking is someone that is said to despise high art and intellectualism. Probably not the best point of view to be coming from when commenting on contemporary music.

But you mentioned Mozart, so I'm totally with you -- what's your argument?

Classical music today just doesn’t need a new way of presenting music. It needs new composers and new music.

It'd probably be stupid of me to point out the obvious here, so I'm going to assume that you know that there already are new composers and new music. Perhaps the ones we have aren't to your liking?

Specifically, it needs composers who can write for symphony orchestras instead of chamber music groups or soloists.

And again, you're probably making a philosophical point, so I don't need to tell you that almost all those new composers compose new music for orchestras too. I guess they write bad music for orchestras, and what we need is good music. Great point, Gary!

Moreover, classical music needs composers who can write music for symphony orchestras that is accessible.

That's a funny word, "accessible". Seems to mean different things to different people.

But let's just use your definition for the time being -- what's accessible mean?

This means – gasp! – that composers need to think about their audiences and what their audiences would like to hear.

Exactly! Just like Mozart said: “I pay no attention whatever to anybody's praise or blame. I simply follow my own feelings.”

By audience, I don’t mean “people in general.”

Yeah, fuck "people in general".

I mean the likely audience for classical music – the PBS, NPR crowd, that slice of the overall population that is open to the idea of hearing a symphony orchestra.

Precisely (although, just for clarification, when you say "the PBS, NPR crowd", you're talking about people like you, right?). "People in general" are too stupid and unwilling to try new things to be considered.

Classical music would need an even newer, more accessible breed of composer to speak to them, and that does sound like a lot of work. Nope, I'm with you, Gary. Stick to the basics -- new music.

But I guess I'm confused by what you mean by "new composers and new music". For example, I just heard a Symphony perform On the Transmigration of Souls by John Adams. The program notes said it was about September 11th, which I'm pretty sure means this piece is probably new. I mean it can't be more than 9 years old, can it? And let me tell you, it was great. The way he captured the sounds of New York, and his use of texts taken from missing person signs, and the dynamic music were all so incredibly powerful.

This niche audience should be excited whenever a new piece of music is published and be clamoring for public radio stations and for local symphony orchestras to play it.

When was this ever the situation?

You do realize that you're trading one niche audience for another. I mean you've sold me, Gary, but it's possible that someone (not me, mind you) might say that these non-existent new composers are actually writing music that they "clamor" for, even if you don't.

Remember, not me. You're totally right about new music not being new enough.

But these are radical concepts you're peddling here. I think you're basically saying that composers should stop writing music for themselves and start writing music for you. And, I listen to NPR also...so, I guess me, too!

This niche audience, however, is never excited because composers don’t think about this audience when they write.

I'm totally with you. I know composers and they are self-absorbed dickholes. Good call.

And oh, just for the files, how did you come by this knowledge again? I assume you having polling data to support your thesis, right?

They don’t think about the kind of harmonic language this audience is accustomed to hearing.

Wait a minute. I thought you said we need new music by new composers?

Gary, you and I are totally buddies here, but I think "language this audience is accustomed to hearing" could be misinterpreted. I think some people might think that you are referencing older music. Like the music of 200 years ago? I'm not a history expert, but that strikes me as decidedly not new. Fuck me, I'm confused.

They don’t realize that people still like to hear melodies – and that writing a good melody takes more than training. It’s something of a gift.

So right. Melodies are hard, and modern composers are just such quitters. I mean, how else can you explain the music of Steve Reich?

He must write all this music for percussion (really the lesser of all instruments -- banging doesn't equal playing) and all that minimalist stuff because he can't write a good melody. It's sad really. A failed composer who just persists upon writing more and more music under the mistaken belief that anybody likes it.

Face it, Steve. They don't! The people (not the "people in general", but the "PBS, NPR" people) like melodies, and therefore hate your music. And I'm looking your direction too John Adams.

I recently heard a symphony play On the Transmigration of Souls?! What the fuck was that? Street noises? Sound effects? Random texts? And for a piece about September 11th, not one super sad melody?

Composition lesson #1, my friend: minor key equals sad. How about you rewrite that pile of shit in g minor? And while you're at it, there are far too many letters in the word "transmigration". Titles should not contain words that I need to look up.

But I digress. Gary has the ball...drive it to the hole!

I’m not talking about dumbing music down.

Of course not. The "PBS, NPR crowd" aren't dumb, they just hate learning anything new.

I’m talking about marrying a sense of what’s popular and accessible with true musical sophistication and creating something that appeals to lay people while giving those more musically sophisticated something to appreciate.

Exactly. A more perfect utopia I couldn't imagine.

But for you non-NPR/PBS readers out there, this probably rather confusing. Let me translate some of the this for you.

"Popular" means what was popular 150 years ago.

"Accessible" means not requiring any effort or new knowledge from the audience. (I mean, all orchestra audiences were formed in full with just the right amount musical knowledge at birth. Any excess knowledge really is crime against humanity.)

"True musical sophistication" means there are good melodies. Hopefully melodies that can be whistled pompously around less worldly, ignorant workmates on the way to the office radio to change the station from easy listening to Fresh Air.

If composers want to be heard, they have no other choice.

So don't be like Mozart and make sure you pay attention to our whims. And certainly don't write what you feel.

You can only be so experimental when writing for symphony orchestra concerts, which are costly to mount, depend on a full or near full hall, and which frankly ask a great deal from the average person in terms of time and money.

Another great point, Gary. Which makes me wonder...why do we want this new music by new composers again? I mean, they're not going to write anything better than a Beethoven symphony, plus I love hearing Beethoven live.

Specialist music attracts only a specialist audience.

i.e. people who don't deserve orchestra music.

If composers want someone other than fellow academics listening, they need to change.

Or else.

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

Please forgive me now while I step onto my soapbox and editorialize on this subject for a moment.

Not to put too blunt a point on it, but Gary Panetta is what's wrong with classical music, not the composers writing this inaccessible music. What he is advocating for is not having to learn anything new. Gary Panetta has been challenged by music that he doesn't understand, and therefore doesn't like. And rather than admit his ignorance, he claims a position of self-righteousness -- composers have lost their way and should adjust their music to people like him.

Mr. Panetta will undoubtedly find many that agree with him, but thus is the reality of all stupid ideas (case in the point, the Republican party). I don't want to be too dismissive, but Mr. Panetta is a moron. His parents were probably morons, and he wants you to be a moron too. Because, if he doesn't get it, then no one who is worth caring about should get it either.

Now, don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with being a moron. Some of my best friends are morons...but I don't let them pick the movie, either. And not all morons are as easy to point out as say, Ms. Teen South Carolina, Heidi Montag, or Mitch McConnell. Nope, some even went to college, got fancy degrees and end up in places of power and influence, but that doesn't change the fact that they're morons. And they're not difficult to identify, because the hallmark of the moron is the advocacy, defense, or general malaise around not knowing.

Classical music has always required a certain level of sophistication from listeners. It has always been an intellectual exercise. It takes incredible skill and years of practice and experience to compose a piece of "true musical sophistication". And, as I'm sure Mr. Panetta would admit (and already basically concedes when he excludes "people in general" from his argument), that it takes a certain amount of knowledge and understanding to fully appreciate what a composer like Beethoven or Mozart is doing in their music. Granted, it's not an entirely intellectual exercise as a listener, but it's an important element that makes it distinct from listening to other types of music.

Now, what Mr. Panetta is essentially arguing is that the music he and his NPR/PBS brethren like contains the perfect blend of complexity and pretty stuff, like melodies. And since it's mostly music from 100+ years ago, he and everyone he knows grew up on this music and probably grew to appreciate it from an early age, which is when you're already forced to learn all sorts of new stuff, so it doesn't hurt as much. But now he's an adult, and he'll be damned if he learns anything else. The music of Mozart and Brahms is the best music Mr. Panetta knows, so if there must be new music, then if should reflect that great music of the past.

However, Mr. Panetta, as previously asserted, is a moron. He doesn't know what he's talking about. His argument is stupid and, if his first sentence is any indication, he knows it too. First of all, there is no perfect music. Classical music is in constant evolution. Each composer builds upon the legacy of the composers that come before them, incorporating the sensibilities of their culture, the technological advances of the era, and the greater wealth of music that had preceded them. And the problem is, Mr. Panetta, that for each new generation of composer there is more history and innovation packed into their compositions. Beethoven's music was keenly aware of Mozart, Bach, Haydn, Handel and a handful of others. Brahms also knew that music, plus the harmonic advancements of Schumann and Chopin, the nationalism of Dvorak and Smetana, the massive, bloated orchestrations of Berlioz and Wagner, not to mention the virtuosic vomitous volumes of Liszt and Paganini.

As a natural by-product of the modern age of classical music, there is a greater amount of knowledge necessary to understand Brahms than Beethoven. And the same is true of Mahler and Stravinsky and even Copland. That doesn't make any of this music better, nor does it make more complicated. Even as "accessible" as Copland's populist music of the early 1940s is, this music requires quite a bit of sophistication to fully understand.

But if your ultimate point, Mr. Panetta, is not about understanding and appreciating classical music for it's emotive powers, technical prowess and architectural beauty, but simply to admire it for it's pretty sounds and singable tunes, well then you have no point. That music is already out there for you. There is already an entire genre (an industry really) of music that is dedicated to thinking "about their audiences and what their audiences would like to hear." They already write their music in a "harmonic language this audience is accustomed to hearing." And they certainly have tried to "marr[y] a sense of what’s popular and accessible." It's called pop music. Perhaps you've heard of it. And for you ivory tower sorts, "pop" is short for "popular", and it is music designed for the sole purpose of being popular -- so the opposite of classical music. You'll love it, because I promise you, that from here till the end of time you'll never have to learn anything new to understand this music.

What makes classical music different is that it isn't meant for everyone. This isn't true in an elitist sense that it trying to keep anyone out, but by virtue of the level of sophistication and required knowledge base it will naturally appeal to a smaller segment of the population (I call them "readers"). And the thing is, that despite you not knowing this, classical music is in constant motion, even during the time of your favorite composers. There will always be music that pushes the boundaries, and music that rehashes the styles of earlier eras. Just look harder, Mr. Panetta, because it isn't difficult to find composers who want to be Brahms (check with any unemployed film scorer, or virtually any sophomore composition class).

But if you really want to talk about what's wrong with classical music, it's morons like you who think it's a static entity. That it was perfect when Beethoven and Brahms roamed the Bavarian countryside. Composers have always been ahead of audiences, it's the nature of all creative fields. But somewhere along the line it became acceptable for audiences to elevate themselves to the center of the classical music universe and decree that anything they don't understand is stupid and wrong. Well, you're not the center of this universe, and frankly as Milton Babbitt says, and I think I speak for most composers here, we doesn't care if you listen.

Why do you ask? No, seriously?

The Sacramento Philharmonic played a piece of new music recently, and Edward Ortiz of the Sacramento Bee wants to know, "to what end?"

What I want to know is, "why do you ask?"

Music Review: Philharmonic program ambitious, imperfect

It was fitting that the piece that opened the Sacramento Philharmonic's latest performance was titled "Chasing Light."

It was fitting that the piece starting the concert was titled "Chasing Light"? I would normally assume that "Chasing Light" was simply abstract imagery, or a poetic turn of phrase. Frankly Ed, I'm not entirely sure that has any concrete meaning.

Apparently not. Let's find out why, shall we.

For it was the chasing of light, namely in the form of capturing it in soulful musical inspiration, that went missing Saturday evening at the Community Center Theater.

Oh. Okay.

figure confused: Huh?

Wait, no. The title, "Chasing Light" was fitting because the chasing of light was missing?

Then, by that logic, shouldn't the title Henry Kissinger's Topless Zombie Goldfish also have been fitting?

But I guess my problem is one of definition. What does chasing light mean?

[Rereads sentence] "Chasing light" means capturing soulful musical inspiration.

Of course!

(Don't worry, I've already updated urbandictionary.com)

So, clearly, we're all familiar with capturing soulful musical inspiration, but how is it therefore "fitting" if that soulful musical stuff wasn't actually part of the concert?

I guess I still don't understand. Can you can elaborate for us?

Although the night would see moments of spirited musicianship,...

I'm assuming "spirited musicianship" doesn't qualify as "soulful musical inspiration" (aka. "chasing light"). Anyways, go on...

...especially during composer Joseph Schwantner's "Chasing Light,"....

It's amazing how Schwantner was able to fittingly name his piece the very thing missing from a concert not programed until after his piece had been written. That's pretty awesome.

...the concert did not do service to the rest of the program,...

Are "concert" and "program" not interchangeable here?

...which included Sergei Rachmaninov's "Rhapsody on a Theme on Paganini,"...

I have nothing to add here except to say this is a long sentence. I've now interrupted it 4 times.

...and Jean Sibelius' Symphony No. 2.

Whew.

So, this Schwantner piece really seems to be the linchpin of the concert. What's the story here?

The appearance of "Chasing Light," came by way of an unusual commissioning project called "Ford Made In America," financed through the philanthropic arm of the Ford Motor Co.

Ooh. A commissioning project. Cool. I'm a big fan of those. Why do you say it was unusual?

[Checks the internets...]

This doesn't seem so odd. Are you saying that a car company can't have an appreciation for the arts? (Have you seen the new Ford Fusion?)

Or are you saying that there's no reason to commission new music?

When done, that project, in its second year, will have brought Schwantner's work to 58 regional orchestras in all 50 states. It's an admirable idea.

Admirable? It's a great idea. And kudos to Ford for partnering with Meet the Composer and the League of American Orchestras to make this a reality.

It allows smaller-budget orchestras to commission and perform new works – always a costly endeavor.

Yes, exactly, which is why it's so great when large corporations extend their limited philanthropy dollars to easily overlooked projects like bringing new classical music to smaller communities.

Why do I sense that you have some issue with this?

But the effort does not answer the crucial question: "To what end?"

What?! Why do you ask? No, seriously, what the fuck?

I just told you, and you yourself already explained it...to bring new music to small regional orchestras. Da. Fuck?

I guess I don't understand your question. Is this some sort of philosophical riddle?

figure riddle: If Schwantner's "Chasing Light" is played in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does Edward Ortiz care?

But Mr. Ortiz, I guess you do have a point. What justification is there for this project? I mean, to think that Bruch Violin Concerto No. 1 was only played by 28 orchestras in the 2007-2008 season, and they're spending money to spread this piece?! What a fucking crime. I can only imagine where this will lead us as a society.

It begins with small orchestras, like the Sacramento Philharmonic, playing music written in the last 25 years. Then, old people become alienated by all the "weird" music and stop coming the concerts. And before you know it, no one in attendance will care if there's a Mozart Piano Concerto on the concert, or even a Strauss waltz! Then, there will be nothing but new music on the concerts -- or in other words, anarchy. The new music elitistism will then spread to our museums, tearing down Bellini paintings in favor of this:

And the movie theaters will only play films by this guy:

and this guy:

A scary prospect, I know. Just think of the consequences if these people were ever to get involved politics. Goddamn socialists! Er... I mean new music.

But I digress. What were you saying again?

Although "Chasing Light" is a vibrant and descriptive work,...

It's a "descriptive work"? This isn't a third grader's report on the class trip to the zoo. Would you mind tell us what it "described"?

...it was hard to fathom why this piece, as opposed to any other, was chosen for the Ford project.

So your objection is not towards Ford or this project, your existential rumination was specific to this piece.

Yeah, Schwanter...why'd you write this piece? Seriously, what the fuck?

No doubt, the New Hampshire-based Schwantner shows a unique approach to orchestration. The 18-minute "Chasing Light" is a powerful, four-movement work that proceeds boldly and without pause.

"Without pause". How could you doubt the aptness of piece that proceeded without pause?!!

The work begins with a thunderous call from timpani that gives way to a descriptive theme in the strings.

Descriptive? Again? Really?

You are really struggling for compliments aren't you?

Perhaps I can help you out a little:

"The Schwantner is a piece. It both had a beginning and an end. I was impressed with the loudness in some parts, but also with the quiet stuff. Also, there was a flute. All of the notes were written down on paper, and the conductor led the orchestra. But, I couldn't help but wish there was more molto in the playing. It was without pause." (The "without pause" really is a winner, no need to change that one.)

The work evolves from its tumultuous beginning to a pastoral middle section of great color and emotional weight.

figure emotional weight: Like the Schwanter...metaphorically speaking, of course.

Throughout the work can be found an interesting interplay between strings and woodwinds.

And there was percussion too!

Here conductor Michael Morgan kept the orchestra on a crisp pace.

Here? Is "interesting interplay" a place?

But, at times, it seemed derivative and repetitive.

Define "it" again? Was "it" the "interplay", the "here", the "crisp pace", or just the piece in general?

And, derivative of what? Does derivation mean that it should be left only to the large metropolitan orchestras? And also unworthy of Ford's "Made in America" grant money? Schwantner is American, right?

Next came a warp-speed performance of "Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini" by pianist Misha Dichter.

Wait a minute. Let's back this thing up. I do have a relatively short attention span, but I remember something about the very existence of this piece being called into question.

It allows smaller-budget orchestras to commission and perform new works – always a costly endeavor. But the effort does not answer the crucial question: "To what end?"

Although "Chasing Light" is a vibrant and descriptive work, it was hard to fathom why this piece, as opposed to any other, was chosen for the Ford project.

Ring a bell? Did you answer your own query already and I just missed it?

[Rereads review: ...descriptive work...without pause...descriptive...interplay...crisp pace...repetitive...]

Nope. Pretty sure you didn't really answer it. So, seriously, why do you ask?

What exactly is your point? Because it seems that you don't really have one, and you think it's fashionable to cast aspersions onto new classical music. Yes? Maybe?

But, hell, that doesn't even make any sense, because you seem to have liked the piece, at least a little. You did say that it was "descriptive", didn't you? And it does "proceed without pause", right?

Seriously, what the fuck.

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

Epilogue: Later, Mr. Ortiz, makes one very lame attempt to justify the whole fitting title introduction.

Overbearing performances of this symphony [Sibelius Symphony No. 2] often leave audiences with the impression that Sibelius' orchestrations are heavy-handed and redundant. But one would not have had that impression on Saturday. It would have been the opposite. There was nothing heavy-handed here; rather it was like Sibelius "light."

Ha ha. I was wrong. It all works now.

Plus, puns are awesome.

Thanks.

Reviewing New Music Is Hard, Part 2

Part the Second! Wherein the Virtues of New Music Are Extolled

(Part One Here.)

The first part of the Kozinn article about the Either/Or ensemble is about the Lachenmann piece. Certainly, he was the best-known composer on the program, and unsurprisingly got the most column inches in the review.

This speaks also to the intended audience of Kozinn piece. Using a bunch of technical jargon when describing new music is not conducive to attracting the, let us say without disdain, lay public to concerts of new music. Using the flagship composer (who may be familiar to the reader, as he toured the States last year) for the bulk of the article is logical. An interested reader might then be curous about the other works on the program, or one like it.

It's good that Kozinn seems to have listened as intently to the other works, too, although he didn't like them all (which is of course fine). I'm still wondering about syntax and form vs. "sound worlds," and what is and is not "beside the point."

What say, then?

The charm of Mr. Carrick’s “Scène Miniature” (2009) was in the way the instruments — piano, violin, saxophone and musical saw — paired off in various combinations.

Here is a video, like the last one, of the same ensemble performing the piece.

The paired instruments began by playing abstract themes,

What would make a theme abstract? More importantly what would make one not abstract? Figurative? Tonal?

but in the final section, based on a sharply rhythmic Algerian dance melody, abstraction was overtaken by exoticism and sheer infectiousness.

Hm. If that was based on an Algerian melody, it was abstractly based. I'm not sure I like "exoticism" either, but it does seem pretty apt, especially with the naked "Arabic"-sounding naked scales in the piano part.

Still, pretty freaking good for two sentences on synopsis and review. Was the music about timbres and "sound world?" Yes, sure. However, it is even acknowledged in the review that syntax (abstract -> folk-based) and form are important aspects of the work as well. I would even say that the content and the form were interconnected.

Two movements from Andrew Byrne’s “Ringing World” (2009) made a direct, visceral appeal as well.

(Sorry, no video for this one. Oh, well.) One way to enjoy new music, especially the experimental kind that seems to be at work here, is viscerally.

Scored for metal percussion instruments, these short pieces used timbre as bait — the first was clangorous, the second mellower — but kept the listener engaged by piling up layers of counterpoint.

Again, it's interesting that the form and syntax seem to keep the reveiwer interested after acclamating to the sound world of the piece.

John Luther Adams’s “Red Arc/Blue Veil” (2002)...

(Video here.)

worked the opposite way: scored for piano, mallet instruments and recorded sound, it began with a gently inviting theme and devolved into a series of content-free textures...

Content-free? Wow. How can that be?

— first a brash glare, then a 1970s-ish electronic burble.

Sounds like content to me! What gives? It's loopy and minimalistic [sic], and atmospheric. Contemplative, meditative perhaps? But content-free?

Though not unpleasant, it went nowhere in 10 long minutes.

Well, it might not have gone nowhere, but it didn't go far. But that's part of the thing with ambient-type sound-world music [hyphen fans rejoice]. It's more subtle, I guess. But there is content, and form too. One gets the sense that Kozinn sort of liked it, but was a bit bored perhaps.

I'm really not sure what content-free music could be. Even a silent piece admits ambient noise. Perhaps my problem is contextual.

The closest thing I can think of offhand is the sound equivalent of something like this.

Hans Thomalla’s “Lied” (2008), for piano, vibraphone and saxophone, was an uninspiring succession of hazily sustained passages and fortissimo honks.

(No video, sorry.) Yikes. That is one, succinct, brutal reveiw. Given Kozinn's apparent openness to negotiate with the piece on its own terms, one wonders if the preceeding ambient, quiet piece was a poor palatte upon which to recieve "fortissimo honks." Or maybe he plain didn't care for it.

“The Negotiation of Context” (2009), by the Icelandic composer David Brynjar Franzson, proved similarly eventless,

Hmm...

but its sound world — lots of rummaging about inside the piano, with occasional wheezing from the harmonium — was engagingly tactile.

...mmm-hmm. Again it seems that an inviting or interesting "sound world" is more engaging as a piece if it has syntactic/formal and/or timbral elements as well. This is not earth-shaking, but it's a little glimpse, maybe, of what kind of approach one reviewer takes when encountering very new--even, or especially, totally unknown--music. Anyone with a little time and willingness to engage can have a similar experience with new-new music.

Which, finally, is why New Music writ large is (at its greatest potential) not just for graduate students and the "initiated." At its best (as with all art) one can encounter the gamut of contemporary thought about art, philosophy, history, and ideas (not to mention music) that contemporary composers are thinking about.

Reading a contemporary journal of music theory one is likely to encounter daunting and obfuscatory writing that is challenging even to adepts. Going to concerts doesn't have to be.

And no whining about "accessability" of new music. Can you afford the eight bucks and get there on time? That's fucking accessable.

Enough rant. Good article; any thoughts on content-free or eventless music?

Here is a picture that is fun to look at.

John Cage: Fontana Mix (score excerpt)

[Edit: 5/27: I fixed the link about the contextless music. It was supposed to be a political jab, not any kind of confusing shot at John Luther Adams. Also, AnthonyS pointed out that I made at least 4 spelling errors. For someone who sometimes picks nits, I should be more careful. (I was kind of on a roll.) But I left them in.]

Reviewing New Music Is Hard, Part 1

In two parts!

Part the First:

Allan Kozinn has a piece up in the Times reviewing a new music concert by the ensemble Either/Or.

Kozinn, largely, does an admirable job, as music this new (in this case, all post-1986, and mostly composed 2002-2009) sometimes has unique or challenging ideas, sounds, forms...you get the idea. The problem for the critic becomes, then, a mixture of description (which is more or less unnecessary for standard repertoire reviews, although often practiced), taking the pieces on their own merits, or within whatever parameters they seem to demand, and forming some sort of opinion about what was played.

This differs from a review of better-known pieces, both because the idioms might be new or experimental, and also because the reviewer may well not have any other performances of the music to compare to the concert at hand.

So what's up, Mr. Kozinn?

Ensemble That Plays by Its Own Rules

Oof. That is an inauspicious start, title-composing editor person. So trite, and yet so inapt. The Ensembles Union will likely have their heads!

Either/Or, the new-music ensemble...

Look. I understand this hyphen usage, but it's stupid. This construction just took the 4:30 autogyro to the Prussian consulate in Siam.

Figure 1: Now you're on the trolley!

"New music ensemble" is a perfectly cromulent and comprehensible construction. Even if there was a newly-formed group disussed in the article, surely it would not be referred to as a new "music ensemble." "Music ensemble" is sort of like "land cow."

Bah. Enough with the Simpsons references.

Either/Or, the new-music ensemble formed in 2004 by the composer and pianist Richard Carrick and the percussionist David Shively, is devoted to a species of avant-garde composition in which concepts like tonality, serialism and Minimalism are beside the point.

Why does "Minimalism" get capitalized? Screw you, serialism!

More importantly, calling those concepts "beside the point" seems...not quite right. The sense is that, perhaps, they are just in a larger set of expanded points, so their importance or interest is only diminished in that there are other concerns at least as well-explored.

Or am I quibbling? Don't get me wrong; I like quibbling, but not when I'm trying to really make a point.

The point being that, although I am not sure I like the way it is put, Kozinn seems to have a good idea of how to approach such music. His open-mindedness is surely appreciated, around these parts at least.

This is a world where pure sound and texture are of greater interest than form and syntax.

Again, more properly perhaps they are of equal interest as form and syntax. However, as a composer friend always argues given such propositions, Mozart is totally also about "pure sound and texture" as much as he is about form and syntax. So, uh, there you have it.

That’s not to say that form and syntax are outlawed,

That would be tough. Anything of any duration, especially if it can be considered to be in more than one part or section, has form. Also, were they outlawed, who would enforce this law and punish the transgressors thereof? The syntax police?

but works in the Either/Or repertory are just as likely to be governed by game theory as by standard notions of musical structure.

Fair enough, and enough quibbling.

The ensemble presented its annual spring festival on Saturday evening at the Tenri Cultural Institute in Manhattan, and if it was a modest offering — just a concert really — it did provide a good overview of what these musicians find compelling.

The "festival" was a modest, compelling concert. The musicians programmed music that they like to write, play, and hear.

In addition to Mr. Carrick and Mr. Shively (who also played musical saw and harmonium), the group included Jennifer Choi, the violinist, and Michael Ibrahim, the saxophonist.

The lack of hyphens makes it clear that Mr. Shively was not in fact playing the musical saw-and-harmonium.

Now, on to the meat course:

The most immediately striking work was Helmut Lachenmann’s “Toccatina” (1986).

Here is a video (at the Detritus Hall) where you can see/hear the same violinist, Jennifer Choi, perform this piece (she's awesome, by the way). Turn it up, y'all, the thing is very, very quiet. Please watch/listen to the piece (it's only about four minutes), then read the review below.

The title suggests the old Baroque form, a free fantasy meant to show a player’s virtuosity, but is also a play on the word toccata, which comes from the verb “to touch.”

Lachenmann experimented extensively with novel ways of producing sound from traditional instruments. It was sort of his "thing" for a while. [He's cool-ed.] Although this piece is from 1986, this sort of idea has been around for a while. Henry Cowell wrote a book called New Musical Resources in 1930. It's very cool, and kind of technical, so it's also useful.

Figure 2: Henry Cowell plays the piano

Scored for solo violin, the piece asks the performer to touch the instrument in atypical ways. Notes are first articulated, softly, by tapping the string with the screw of the bow. The bow’s wood is used too, and when the horsehair comes into play, it glides along the string tonelessly, producing a breathy, whispered sound.

This is a pretty good description of what goes on, no? There is no overt judgment, but Kozinn seems to like or at least admire the piece (unlike some later in the review).

But this was not just an exercise in odd techniques and sound effects.

I thought this was "new-music"! Can't you just do a bunch of crazy crap? No?!

Mr. Lachenmann gives the violin an attractive, amusing line, with short, alluring melodies, and Ms. Choi proved exceptionally nimble.

Hm. I would agree that the violin "line" (such as it is) is amusing, and perhaps attractive. Are there really "melodies" though? At what point does a sucession of discrete pitches constitute a melody?

Also, I think that, far from outlawed, or beside-the-point, the form of the piece is really very clear.

So: melody and form, I think, are both being interrogated in some way by the Lachenmann piece (as well as instruments being a repository of possible sounds, not necessarily the ones we expect). Kozinn identifies something he calls "melodies," do we agree? What about the form of the piece, or other elements?

Clearly, this was a short review and space was limited. And I think it's sensitive to the demands of the music, and in that sense well-approached. The other, newer pieces, were not always treated so kindly, but of course that could be justified.

Part the Second, and the rest of the article, tomorrow.

Opera Is Weird

A cogent piece in the New York Times about new operas, or, at least, excerpts thereof. Tommasini does an interesting analysis of the snippets' musical impression/content, which is always interesting since the music is all new, and thus the critic's first hearing. Furthermore, the commentary has much to say about the medium, and the state of the medium, of opera today.

Empiricus has some thoughts on this, too. Or so he would have me believe.

Sampling of New Dishes, Some Still Being Seasoned

Though the struggling New York City Opera has been mostly absent this season, it was in the center of things over the weekend. On Friday night and Saturday afternoon it presented Vox 2009, its 10th annual showcase of excerpts from new operas performed in concert by City Opera singers and the City Opera orchestra. The operas are typically works in progress or completed works awaiting proper productions.

It's good to see the City Opera's dedication to new works does not flag in the face of its struggles.

For the free showcases on Saturday afternoon, the Skirball Center for the Performing Arts at New York University was packed.

Also very encouraging.

Four of the five works presented on this occasion represented deliberate attempts by their composers to push the boundaries of the opera genre, for better or worse.

I'm a bit confused; did the composers express the desire to push the boundaries "for better or for worse," or is that the assessment of the situation by the critic? Let's find out!

In video interviews that preceded each performance, and in program notes, opera was described as the ultimate medium for musical exploration, and conservative gatekeepers were deplored.

"The Deploration of Conservative Gatekeepers" would make an interesting name for...something. But what?

So the upstart composers want to challenge the ultimate medium, possibly to the chagrin of the aforementioned Gatekeepers. How'd that work out? What are the criteria? What, properly, is opera (besides, possibly, the "ultimate medium")?

Of course, if opera tells stories through words and music, there is only so far you can push it before it becomes something else.

Hm. That's a large conditional. Is opera about stories? I'll concede the words (or, at least, singers) and music, for now. What are stories about? This is thick and sticky stuff.

Figure 1: Opera is like raw maple syrup

Also, how far can one push it before it becomes something else? Furthermore, what would it become? Not-opera? Is operatic intentionality, or performance in an opera house sufficient condition to be opera? What about a narrative ballad country song that uses words and music to tell a story? Perhaps if it were in an opera house?

These issues are perhaps more syrupy than the intent of the article. In fairness, let's see what point I was belaboring.

And experimentation should be no excuse for poor craftsmanship.

Ah, another issue altogether. However, is poorly crafted opera still opera, or is it something else?

Take “Invisible Cities,” with music and libretto by Christopher Cerrone, adapted from the novel by Italo Calvino. The opera tells of the emperor Kublai Khan, who, fearing that he is losing hold of his vast kingdom, listens to reports from the young explorer Marco Polo, who has traveled its remote and fantastical regions.

That sounds opera-y enough for an opera plot. Lots of potential subtext, issues to explore and all that. Imperialism, Empire, Death, Loss, Culture, Hegemony. Good stuff.

Also, not for nothing, potentially cool sets. Costumes. Characters, more or less well-known. Sort of a story, with words and music.

All of our lives lead to decay, Mr. Cerrone said in the video interview. His opera, he added, is about “finding a certain joy in that.”

Whoah. Check out Composer Bringdown over here. But still...

In his orchestral score Mr. Cerrone uses a prepared piano and electronic instruments to evoke exotic sounds and an ethereal atmosphere.

Hmm. For all of the potential topics, this smacks a little of Orientalism.

Figure 2: You make Edward Said Sad

But either way, why am I "taking" this example to support the opening of the article? About new opera?

But in the 30-minute excerpt, the dramatic pacing was static and the vocal writing cumbersome.

That sounds like a problem regardless of genre. Or, more particularly, illustrates that "experimentation [is] no excuse for poor craftmanship," so I see, or rather, read. Technical issues can foul one up in any medium.

When the text is sung, the vocal lines are almost continually slow, sustained and ponderous. When things pick up, the words are almost always either spoken or chanted in monotones.

This sounds like a stylistic critique; however, if the vocal writing impedes the delivery and/or comprehension, it is also a technical one. Also: ouch!

The composer Anne LeBaron approached text-setting much the same way in an excerpt from her opera “Crescent City,” with a libretto by Douglas Kearney.

That does not bode well, by these criteria...

In the story an imagined city (a metaphorical stand-in for New Orleans) is trying to recover from a devastating hurricane. The characters include ghost cops and a voodoo queen.

Again, potentially opera-y, no?

Strange things happen.

Like a statue coming to life and inviting you to dinner?

Ms. LeBaron, who salutes renegade composers like Meredith Monk and John Cage,

Okay.

who upended the opera genre, seems to think that by using electronic gadgets and drawing from vernacular pop genres she can make her score automatically experimental.

Yikes.

But the vocal writing is like a cliché of pompous contemporary opera excess,

Perhaps it's a stylistic parody? Camp? Deliberate cliché?

with lines full of sustained chanting and pointlessly complicated leaps.

Hm. I'm not sure whether this is a stylistic or technical complaint; sounds like both.

Like Mr. Cerrone, Ms. LeBaron resorts to patter or speech when the text needs to be gotten through quickly.

So...didn't really like it, eh? What else?

Jonathan Dawe’s “Armide,” with a libretto by Heather Raffo, was inspired by Lully’s French Baroque opera of the same title. In fact, Mr. Dawe refashions stretches of Lully’s score with modern music twists in this work, which sets the story in postwar Iraq, in 2019. Mr. Dawe describes his opera as “Baroque music on steroids.”

That seems...unnecessary, but it's hard to say. What was it like?

But when transforming old music into something new, it is not enough to rewrite the original with a lot of wrong notes, extraneous harmonies and wandering inner voices, then throw in some orchestral craziness.

Double yikes. Someone brought their critic's pen today.

The last work showcased was by far the best.

What was different? Was it a story with words, and music, too? Less inept, more conservative, or both?

“A Bird in Your Ear” by the composer David Bruce and the librettist Alasdair Middleton is a fairy-tale opera about a nightingale and a privileged young boy, Ivan, who yearns to know what the birds are saying. After saving some baby birds from a severe storm, Ivan is granted his wish by their magical mother.

Sounds like an Oscar Wilde short story for some reason. And potentially loaded with fairy-tale opera conventions...

Mr. Bruce found a model for this work, he said, in Stravinsky’s dance cantata “Les Noces.”

Figure 3: Before fonts had been standardized, chaos reigned

In what way?

The story is told through short scenes with connecting narration.

Oh.

The music, rich with imagined folk tunes, undulant accompaniment patterns and vibrant choral writing, is delicate, tartly tonal and lucidly orchestrated.

That sounds positive, if possibly less musically challenging. Hm, competent, fairy-tale opera, lucid, "tartly tonal" (?).

The characters are enchanting, and the vocal writing mostly effective,

In light of the other works reviewed, "mostly effective" is high praise indeed.

except for Mr. Bruce’s often flawed prosody,

Oops.

the art of setting words to music in a way that conveys the natural patterns of speech.

Yes, that.

It may not have been the best decision to have the narrative sung, for the most part, by a trio of women. The words are sometimes garbled by elaborate three-part harmonies.

A small technical critique.

In context on this long afternoon of excerpts, “A Bird in Your Ear” offered an object lesson: it is better for an opera to be skillfully written and imaginative, however conventional, than to be experimental and inept.

It "is" better, especially if you're a young (relatively) unknown composer getting reviewed in the Times. Ineptitude cannot open new doors easily. The price for being unconventional, though, is sometimes clumsiness with new ideas or materials.

Perhaps that's what some of what opera "is", or has come to be. Chamber music concerts, their audiences, venues, and culture, seem to be generally more forgiving than the opera culture. It's not easy to get opera commissions if your name's not already on the lips of the Board of Directors; it's much easier to get chamber music heard.

Opera is more than the sum of words, music, and stories, skillfully wrought. It carries cultural, economic, and artistic baggage that's difficult to contend with, especially for new works.

1, 2, 3, 4, I Delcare An Opera War!

Goodness gracious! Is there a war brewing at the Times?

Mr. Kozinn is writing about the new Alice in Wonderland opera by Peter Westergaard:

Mr. Westergaard, meanwhile, has finished a seventh [opera], “The Always Present Present.” You have to admire and wonder at his tenacity, given that contemporary opera is a futile pursuit.

Futile? Wow! Strong language.

Listeners who care about opera clamor for new ones, but with few exceptions — works by John Adams and Philip Glass mainly — when they are produced, they please neither audiences, critics nor singers and are rarely seen again.

I guess making exceptions to your own staments proves your point?

Companies may be balancing their books by showing 19th- and early-20th-century favorites, but as a developing form, opera’s EKG is flatlining.

Flatlining, yikes. That sounds dire! What say you, Anthony Tommasini? Mr. Tommasini is writing about the new season of the New York City Opera:

A season focused on formidable 20th-century works will excite many opera lovers, including me.

Oh, snap! Take that, Kozinn!

The programming makes a statement that a people’s opera does not have to play it safe and be afraid to challenge audiences.

Quite so, sir. Flatlined, pfft!

Besides, over the last couple of seasons at the City Opera, disappointing box-office receipts for standard fare have indicated that the company cannot rely on appealing productions of “Carmen” to keep the lights on.

Challenge the people and they shall come.

I encourage readers to read (uh, what?) the entirety of both articles.

Pithy Title Goes Here

From the New York Times, a nice article about new music:

A Night of Collaboration and Energetic Activity

I’m hoping for pithy generalizations!

You can measure a new-music group’s success by the composers it commissions.

Bingo!

You can measure a new music group’s success that way. (Your mom can measure…but I digress.)

One could also measure a new music group’s success via number of concerts performed, records sold, attendance, or, perhaps, articles written about. Whew, enough passive voice for now…

When Eighth Blackbird began performing, in 1996, its repertory consisted largely of revivals of older scores and works by young composers in the early stages of their careers. The group has not forsaken those composers, nor has it given up curatorial programming completely, but the program it played at Zankel Hall on Thursday evening showed that it is now in another league.

Eighth Blackbird has been called up from the minors! (Also, I thought they, deliberately, did not capitalize their name...?)

All the music was commissioned by the group, with the first half devoted to the vigorous “Double Sextet” (2007) by Steve Reich and the second to “Singing in the Dead of Night” (2008), an energetic and occasionally spooky collaboration by David Lang, Michael Gordon and Julia Wolfe, the composers who run Bang on a Can.

Fair enough. I see that their all-music-we-comissioned concert elevates their stature. Somewhat. From one perspective.

All in all, a good review. One should be careful of pithy generalizations, though; they de-elevate the review. Otherwise, a certain someone may throw Fast Eddie at ya.

Mr. Holland's Opus

My last post criticized a long-standing NYT music critic. But who am I to lambaste such a bastion of the nation's leading daily? I began to feel unworthy, a silly blogger who cherry-picked an article, perhaps not representative of the author's oeuvre, to deride. Yes, perhaps my snarky commentary was undeserved.

Until I found this. It is quite recent, and made me quite angry.

CRITICS are sometimes asked how they prepare for premieres.

I'm pretty sure the passive voice is frowned upon in writing. Someone's getting Strunk & White for Christmas!

In my business a new piece is a threat;

That sounds like a problem--

it strips the writer naked.

...

Unlike Brahms’s Fourth Symphony, it springs from nowhere and asks on the spot to be loved, hated or endured.

Wait. What? Brahms' Fourth sprang from...what exactly? It, too, was once "new music" and bore all of the responsibility and onus that new music bears today. And really, does a new piece ask anything more than to be listened to? Didn't (anecdotally) Boston's Symphony Hall once feature signs above the exit that read Exit Here in Case of Brahms?

Is prior knowledge a kind of cheating, or does a look at the score or a visit to the rehearsal hall create a cushion of experience, something that makes new music more “understandable”?

No, I'm pretty sure it's the opposite of cheating. Familiarity with the composer/style/genre can only inform your first listening. Your expectation will inevitably inform your hearing. Beethoven's Fifth Symphony was met with a mixture of elation and disdain. More recently, Shostakovich's opera was widely lambasted in the Soviet press. If you expect Puccini and get Cage, you'll be frustrated and unhappy.

If you have already heard (or read) the piece, maybe a premiere is not a premiere at all, but that flash of newness warmed over.

(Referee): Flag: personal foul, un-diagrammable sentence. Five yard penalty.

In any case, is newness for newness' sake a virtue? Or not?

At any rate, preparation signals a critic’s work ethic, an obligation to reach out (or up) to a composer, to speak his or her language, to enter someone else’s territory and ask for directions.

This seems reasonable. Given the abundance of styles in which contemporary composers are writing, each piece should be considered on its own merits, and within its own style (which could be defined by one piece!). Consider that, in the same time frame (say, the 60s), one could attend a concert and encounter such disparate approaches as those of John Cage, Terry Riley, Karlheinz Stockhausen, George Crumb, Pauline Oliveros, or maybe even The Beatles. John Coltrane. Captain Beefheart. Artists define their own styles and genres. So, Holland, I'm with you!

The more I follow this line of thought, the more irritated I get, for haven’t we got things backward?

I am not with you.

Shouldn’t composers be preparing for me rather than me for them?

I think you mean "I for them." Strunk & White for Christmas!

Also: what? Composers, I suppose, should conduct market research to determine what kind of music people would like to hear. The "artist" should not "create" or "express" anything, the artist should, I guess, fulfill niches in the market? Follow current trends? Satisfy demand? Gee, I'd hate to think an artist would, I don't know, challenge a listener. Or critic. Which is like a listener, but worse.

By “me,” I mean not me the critic but me the audience member in general. A new piece owes less to critics than to anybody else. Listeners paid for their tickets; usually we haven’t.

Uh, wow. The composer should prepare for...the audience? People who make "art" (such as it is) should...pander? I thought we were talking about "art" music. If your goal is to be popular, composer is probably not your best career choice. People write music. People who write music like to get their music performed, and heard. People who write music are pleased when people like it, I reckon. However, getting people to like you is not the goal of writing music. Is it?

Repeated hearing can correct or deepen first impressions.

Okay. Sure.

It can just as easily confirm initial boredom or distaste.

Fine. Have opinions and taste. That's awesome with me.

I can listen and be dead wrong,

I don't know what that means. I don't know if what you're saying means anything. What would that mean, to be "dead wrong" by listening? You...were wrong about...the structure? The form? The...point? Meaning? What? Taste? Purple Monkey Dishwasher?

but I reserve the right to that immediate impulse and so should everyone around me.

The impulse to be dead wrong? Predicate something something.

In classical music the onus of responsibility has been shifted from creator to receptor.

Wow. Well, reception theory is one thing. The "myth of authorial intent" is another. The meaning of a work, I guess, is as much dependent on the listener as the creator. But that's not what you're pushing here, is it? No. It's not. You want to be pandered to. You wish it was 1774 and you're at the new Haydn symphony.

Do I owe the waiter a good tip, or does he owe me good service?

This is the worst argument ever. Arts = service industry. "Hey! Asshole! Your painting sucks! I want my price of admission back!" If you don't like coffee, don't go to Starbucks. If you don't like new music, don't go to new music concerts. Oh, it's your job? Sucks to be you! Maybe you should have been a laborer.

Give me your hand, your time and your devotion, says the ambitious composer, and I shall lift you to a level of understanding that will make you love me.

I know lots of composers, and none of them have said anything remotely like this to anyone, ever. Not even metaphorically. Mostly they're like, "Fuck! I have to get this commission for a wind quintet done by Tuesday!"

Beware of disliking my new piece lest you betray your ignorance. If anyone asks you what you think, just reply that you need to understand me better. Then change the subject.

Total crap. Anyone who says or thinks this is a total piece of shit, and their music probably blows. I am not naming names.

Composers ought to write anything they want.

Yes! Wow, how generous of you. (I'm not even a composer, just a lowly music theorist.)

And how nice it is that lovers of Duparc or Ned Rorem can gather in small recital halls and listen to the songs they wrote.

Oh, you're being disparaging. How cute. Let me return the favor.

Let explorers of microtonal imagery or computer-generated randomness revel in their exclusivity.

Modernism is terrible. Mozart was awesome. And Beethoven? Don't get me started. Computer music: for nerds. Microtones? Experimentation is totally without the Western musical tradition. Just ask Bach, Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, Chopin, Schubert, Schumann, Brahms...Ives (oh, you probably hate him too)...

The Internet seems made for niches of specialized interests; and if Milton Babbitt disciples want to crawl into one and exchange examples of combinatoriality, let us leave them to it.

You wouldn't know a combinatorial hexachord if it bit you in the ass, you hack. Also: only nerds who live in their mom's basement are on the internet! And nobody likes serial music. Nobody!

Simply know that if broad acclaim and the universal acknowledgment of genius have been denied you, you have not an uncomprehending public to blame but the choices you yourself have made and, more important, your own gifts or lack of same.

Most composers compose because it's what they do. Few have hopes or even ambition of recognition in the short term. Innovators are not afraid of your small-mindedness. Experimental composers could care less what the fuck you think. Your appraisal of "lack of gifts" is laughable. If you know so much about music and what makes music good and what music people like, why don't you write some fucking music?

Be grateful for your teaching job.

Fuck you. I am grateful for my teaching job. If you continue to belittle me, I will continue to make fun of you on the internets.

Thinking small can bear with it great dignity, and in the age of the computer and audiences of one, maybe the idea of universal genius is passé.

You are stuck in the canon. You think it is 1885. You have never heard music from another culture. You, inexplicably, work for the most respected newspaper in America. We are not here for you.

For thinking big, you need to need the people. I sometimes wonder where Sibelius’s music might have taken him had he not been financially supported by his government. Many intelligent listeners admire the increasing remoteness of his later pieces. I personally miss the communicative power of the Second Symphony and the Violin Concerto.

Thinking Big = Wanting to Be Loved? You're basically saying that composers should aspire to be Rupert Murdoch. Put any trashy shit on TV, then give a bunch of money to right-wing candidates whose constituencies would hate the trash that you peddle. Coddle the masses. Don't challenge anyone. And for gods' sakes, don't piss off the old-school critics. They might compare you to Sibelius!

It is satisfying when composers can pay their mortgages and send their children to college. Starvation is not a satisfactory working condition.

You are so generous. Composers are people?! Tell me more!

But the cushions of independent means and professorial tenure — when granted the rare, brilliant talent — can dull the competitive edge. The marketplace has motivated a lot if not most of what we think of now as the standard repertory. Giving composers the luxury of being important and disliked debilitates music.

You almost came to terms, there, with the problem of The Canon. Back in the day, when composers were supported by the Elites (Haydn, et al.) the problem was different. Do you understand that most contemporary composers are poor graduate students with little or no means? That they are pursuing their art against all odds? No? Oh, right, apparently not.

No one can deny the oceans of irrelevance that have always resulted from giving the public what it wants.

Right. Did you just change your position?

But any music intended for public consumption must ask on every page: “How can I make them respond? What common denominator between their sensibility and mine can I discover?” Otherwise it bears irrelevance of a different kind.

Oh--wait, no, you didn't. Clever rhetorical device, there. The audience is greater than the art, or something.

Haydn and Mozart — purveyors of the most profound and original music ever written — asked these questions every day, or they would have had nothing to eat.

"Ever written." Nice. You're beholden to the what now? Oh right, the canon.

Every composer wants to be loved by as many people as possible.

This is exactly what composers want. I asked them.

If it doesn’t work out that way, too many of them are content to let posterity put things right. The posterity myth has a few success stories but is for the most part an excuse for failure in the present. Starry-eyed critics of the 1930s and ’40s predicted that by 2007 we would be singing Schoenberg’s “Moses und Aron” in the shower. Most of us still lean toward “Embraceable You.”

Nice. Shoenberg sucks. Modernism was/is a failure. People like tunes, dude!

I hope it is not unreasonable to suggest that composers, not listeners, are the servants here,

Yes. The arts = service industry metaphor prevails. The market rules! They should give you a column on the Op/Ed page. Bill Kristol is jealous.

and that every new opera or orchestral piece they write should be brought in on a tray with hopes that it has something substantial to say that we can like.

Public sentiment = good art. Shallow-ass criticism.

When Haydn worked for the Esterhazys, he wore a uniform. That’s not a bad idea for our premiere-givers too. They can also tend bar at intermission.

Wow, you effete fuck. How about the critics spoon caviar into my mouth?

How do I prepare for premieres? I read about the people and the circumstances, where the piece came from and what the composer eats for breakfast. If I have a score, I look at the orchestration. It’s nice to know how many crayons are in the composer’s coloring box. I don’t listen to anything. Surprise me.

Funny, your last paragraph almost makes it seem like you're into new music. I don't get it. Except you "don't listen to anything." That, actually, makes your whole article make a lot of sense.
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