Concert ruined by programming Schumann

The following article really isn't a bad article. I really should say that it is indeed a good review. This is the Anne Midgette I enjoy reading. She is a fine writer with an attention to argument and word choice that appeals to my particular tastes. But despite my favorable opinion of this review, it left me with a couple of observations I thought needed making.

Music review: ‘Juggler in Paradise’ at NSO
Anne Midgette, Washington Post, June 10, 2011

Even in an article primarily dedicated to the work of a living composer, it appears that the relative dissonance is still the defining criteria of whether a piece is good or not.

Augusta Read Thomas writes music that is dense and smart but also listenable.

Oh, the false dichotomy...could there be a Detritus Review without you.

So...only dumb music is listenable? And therefore, all smart music is unlistenable?

Thick with complex rhythms, bright with textures, dappled with particular shades of dissonance alternating with snatches of melody, it doesn’t blatantly try to seduce the hearer, but it doesn’t want to be off-putting, either.

This is an interesting comment. In the hands of a lesser writer, I'm not sure this could be read in any other way than to say, "this piece is dissonant, but not too dissonant".

However, more intelligently written, I still think Midgette's point is simply to alleviate the dismissals of those who would, well, dismiss the music of living composers.

There are melodies, but not pretty ones. Got it.

Hers is emphatic music, making its points with a care that approaches the finicky, but it’s always looking over its shoulder to make sure that you’re following.

Sure, why not. Although, I'm not sure I'd ever call finicky music emphatic.

Its blend of intellect and accessibility makes her music very popular with orchestra programmers and conductors.

Okay, so here's that sentiment again, of her music's smartness/intellect. Doesn't this immediately beg the question, what makes her music "smart"?

Rather than immediately starting in with an assessment of her music's dissonance levels, why not explain the very opening sentence -- "Augusta Read Thomas writes music that is dense and smart but also listenable." You have three adjectives here...why must listenable be our only focus?

And in this case, listenable seems to ultimately equal levels of dissonance and consonance.

Of course, smart and dense in music are not as easily defined as I think is assumed here. I know I'm nitpicking Midgette here somewhat, but it seems especially frustrating when she has so many good things to say in her review.

Also, I don't want to disregard this matter of a piece being "listenable". However, I do find that very word to an uninviting place to start. Are there really unlistenable pieces out there?

It's an absurd sort of phrasing -- pieces of music whose sounds cannot be perceived by human ears, or cause so much pain to be safe for aural consumption?

Fine, I'm being too literal. Like I said, I don't wish to ignore listenability. All music must grapple with it's accessibility and it's popular appeal, even if it wishes to disregard them.

And this leads me back to Ms. Midgette's review of Thomas' concerto...

[snip]

The music, though, might not be so popular with audiences.

Interesting. Her smart but listenable music isn't popular with audiences? Any thoughts?

Eight pieces in two decades by one orchestra is an excellent track record for a composer in her 40s, yet it’s hardly enough to breed familiarity among the public.

So, this isn't her fault? Is it that by new music standards, popular still equals rarely performed?

Despite Eschenbach’s presence and the work’s presentation between two slices of Schumann (the “Braut von Messina” overture on one side, the second symphony on the other), Thursday’s audience was sparse.

See, I would blame Schumann for that.

And the crowd seemed oddly untouched by the piece,...

Really? How did you come to this conclusion?

As our lawyer friends might point, are you really testifying as to how some 1000 other people felt on the night of June 9th?

But, I guess I get it, the piece must not be listenable enough.

...a 20-minute arc in which the violin trails through the orchestra and accumulates sounds, like a strand of string picking up sugar crystals to form rock candy.

Ugh. Say no more. I hate rock candy. As I assume everyone in attendance did as well.

Thomas makes emphatic gestures built of sometimes unperceived subtleties, repeating them, with a kind of stuttering effect, to make sure you’ve got it.

Unperceived subtleties repeated until I get them?

If not prefaced with this idea that the audience was untouched, or didn't like the piece, I'm mostly happy with these interesting, if not poetic observations. Perfectly in line with your standard review, however...what does this have to do with your line of argument regarding listenability?

“Juggler in Paradise” — its epithet perhaps one of the less successful of Thomas’s signature poetic titles — is a Harlequin-like piece spangled with bells and wood blocks, in which the violin solos are often joined by bongo drums, or lead into passages of big-band jazziness. At one point, the orchestra held its breath for a solo bongo cadenza, then pounced with a quick powerful chord, like a cat leaping on a mouse.

Sounds like a cool piece. So what in the hell is the problem?

In short, it’s a piece shot through with antic humor, and yet it’s a little too self-conscious to be truly funny.

Oh. You thought the piece was supposed to be funny?

Friday Quickie: Tired Cliches and Rants Edition

The best way to get your point across and grab the attention of the reader to make a connection right away. So, many critics find a point of agreement as their topic sentence. But that's where so many critics run into trouble -- the generalization.

I know, I know. It's just an innocent comment, but really...does it serve any purpose at all, other than to reinforce the idea that contemporary music is generally awful? Anne Midgette is an excellent critic, and I expect better from her on the fundamental issues like this one.

I mean, I understand. But sometimes...you know...[sigh].

Take it away, Anne.

If you want to scare off an audience,...

Wait for it...

If you want to scare off an audience, offer contemporary music.

Nailed it. Couldn't agree more. Yep, contemporary music is awful. And now that I think about it, classical music is boring, also. Which begs the question why anyone would ever program that new music garbage?

Oh, wait. Could it be that's a gross generalization that reflects antiquated thinking? The casting of an audience as a single, like-minded organism is so very lazy. I think it's safe to say that not all of us regular symphony patrons like the same music. Some of us want nothing more than to hear contemporary music often (very often) at the symphony, and to never hear the Bruch Violin Concerto ever again (for example).

I know -- we don't count. There's only so much information that can be included in your standard stereotype, so it's easier to ignore the minority and make all arguments as though we don't exist. But we do exist. And the problem is, at least as is my experience, some of us will purposefully avoid your average symphonic tripe on a regular basis, nearly assuring that we'll never feel connected to these institutions.

But the strange part (and the most reassuring part as well) is that while critics like Ms. Midgette (and actually I read Ms. Midgette quite often, so I know she's much better than this) dwell in the delusion about the awfulness of contemporary music, orchestras are smarter. It no longer makes sense to generalize about the attitudes of audiences, especially as the new garde of conductors -- Marin Alsop in Baltimore, Gustavo Dudamel in LA, David Robertson in St. Louis, Robert Spano in Atlanta -- all make programming contemporary music part of their missions. How is it that these people, who need to schmooze the blue hairs on a nearly daily basis as part of their very livelihood, are further ahead of the curve on this issue than music critics? Seriously. It's time for a new cliche.

figure scary music: Sounds like ants eating my face.

Oh, but I cut you off. Contemporary music scares audiences, but...

If you want to soothe it, offer George Gershwin.

Well, I would have said Beethoven, but 20th century American music is a good call too.

----------------
Read the full article here:
Concert review: Post-Classical Ensemble's 'Gershwin Project' at Clarice Smith Center
Anne Midgette, The Washington Post, September 23, 2010

"Philip Glass Organ Works". So does mine!

A small diversion today -- Anne Midgette, the very capable critic for the Washington Post, simply made me laugh with this telling, possibly unintentional, juxtaposition.

figure juxtaposition: Good call. They really are more of an appetizer.

During a season preview concert, the Baltimore Symphony played works by Prokofiev, Mahler and Mozart and...

The biggest hit with the audience was John Williams's "Star Wars" theme, which will be featured on a space-themed January concert along with a co-commissioned work by Philip Glass.

Nothing says space theme quite like Philip Glass?

No judgments, here, about highbrow and lowbrow.

What an incredibly odd thing to say.

The BSO is working to make people feel welcome, turning what has traditionally been a society event into a genuine social exchange.

Poor, Philip Glass. Does no one like your music?

Which reminds me of an Amazon.com user review of a Glass album which I ran across a few days ago:

Handel composed water music. Philip Glass composes water-torture music. Certainly, the track-by-track agony of waiting for Glass' infernal triplets to reappear (and they do, again and again) is akin to counting the moments until the next water particle falls. What is it with those triplets?

[snip]

Glass pays tribute to Disco with track two ("Lightning") and Jimmy Webb's "MacArthur Park" on track five. Linda Ronstadt pays tribute to bad soprano singing on tracks three and six. Pay tribute to your intelligence by avoiding this washed-up exercise in minimalist excess.

I am amused.

figure glass: Happy Happy Happy, Everybody Happy.

Wherein A Grand Metaphor Is Inferred

Anne Midgette didn't really care for the program that MTT and the San Francisco Symphony...

Figure 1: You down with MTT? Yeah, you know me.

brought to D.C. a couple of weeks ago.

("San Francisco Symphony at the Kennedy Center, "Washington Post, 3/26/2010)

In particular, she had some harsh words about the Lizst tone poem Tasso. This I read as a metaphor, a sort of grand critical summary of our entire communal endeavor--this thing we call "classical" music.

Liszt's "Tasso: Lament and Triumph"...was less bad-boy than simply bad,

Yikes.

...a big, sprawling, self-important piece of pseudonarrative...

Hey! That's just like the entire Western canon!

with some wonderful playing from the orchestra...

Yup, that's the one.

...but not much, at the end, to show for it.

Bam!

Critics Are on the What Now?, Part II

A follow-up column (to this) merits a follow-up response (to this).

Part 2: Wherein Facts Are Asserted, with Mixed Results

Critics and "Users"

A postscript on the evergreen topic of the role of the critic: in last week’s discussion (Do Critics Matter?), the question of whether or not a critic’s role is to be a consumer advocate became a central focus.

(You can read the comments thread that contains that discussion by following the link above.)

The gist is, more or less, that criticism has a broader scope than generating a recommended what-to-do list for potential concertgoers. Which is fair, and seems right--but the contrariwise statement does not follow.

That is to say: it is not the case that criticism, regardless of its intent, sometimes can and does act as an in-depth account of, say, a concert of which a positive review could be construed as some kind of endorsement This seems plain; even if consumer is not the intent or focus of a reviewer, it happens, in sort of an advanced version of the way that wearing a t-shirt with the name/logo of a product tacitly endorses it.*

But I, apparently, have my fact wrong. What's the fact, Ms. Midgette?

The fact is...

I can't wait!

The fact is that, whether or not we like it, critics are not, in fact, consumer advocates.

Oof. In fact, the fact is that I am disputing that fact, in fact.

But I'm reasonable. What is your argument supporting this alleged fact?

In a private e-mail, one respondent brought up a study I’m well aware of, but that certainly merits mentioning here: a 2007 survey by Goldstar.com (this link downloads a file with the survey results) showed that consumers overwhelmingly turn to websites with user reviews in preference to published reviews in a newspaper.

[reads survey report]

Granted, the people who answered this survey were already using a website to access entertainment, so they were predisposed toward Internet use.

Sure, which means that, according to the Fact Survey there, even people who are very internet-y sometimes still turn to newspapers.

(An aside: Capitalization conventions of the word "internet" (versus "Internet") are inconsistent and confusing, and therefore (in this critic's opinion) bad at being conventions as such.)

Still, it reflects a significant societal trend.

This trend: people do stuff on the internets!

Though I myself am (of course) a regular newspaper reader,...

Of course! I mean, come on. Why wouldn't I be? I mean I have a blog and stuff, sure, but, you know, I read the paper and stuff! Seriously! You guys!

...I often browse reader reviews on Amazon.com, or skim through the ratings on a film website, before making a purchase.

Yes. Sure.

(My standard response to people who are afraid that blogs are going to dilute the ostensible purity of critical discourse...

Uh, what? The "[ostensible] purity of critical discourse" is about as varied as Amazon user reviews. (Perhaps someone should set up a web log or "blog" that examines this "discourse.")

...is to point to the Amazon reviews: people are generally able to tell the serious ones from the stupid ones, and by the same token will generally be able to distinguish the good blogs, like the good newspaper reviews, from the bad ones.)

While I understand what Ms. Midgette's saying, distinguishing "good" and "bad" blogs or reviews is probably not the dichotomy (if any) I'd ascribe here. (Except perhaps Yahoo! movie user reviews. I think you have to have a lobotomy to read those. Or am I confusing cause and effect?)

That said, a longer, thoughtful review is pretty easily distinguishable from "Transformers II wuz best movie EVARS1!! If u dont liek it ur jelluz" in form and content.

This means that a single voice has less and less power to influence consumer habits.

But not no power. Remeber: your thesis (or "fact") is that critics are NOT consumer advocates--not "rarely" or "sometimes."

(When I was at the New York Times, I often heard publicists say ruefully that even a great Times review or advance piece of a Lincoln Center performance no longer actually led to a spike in ticket sales, as it once had done.)

Pity the poor publicists.

(Also, it occurs to me that you could do some pretty amazing things if you can begin a sentence (even a parenthetical one) with "When I was at the New York Times...". "When I was at the New York Times," I'd say, "a gentleman once called me an elitist! I called him a slanderous cur, and threw my monocle at his feet!")

"Look at me! I work for the New York Times!"

Sorry. Anyway:

Certainly, critics are writing for consumers, and we are saying what we think about a production or performance.

Certainly. But...?

But to expect everyone to follow your opinions is unrealistic in this day and age.

Again, we seem to have missed the mark. "Everyone" is a lot of ones. The argument that criticism is NOT in fact consumer advocacy (ever) is not helped by arguments that it isn't much, or less than it used to be, or sort of, or sometimes.

And in fact, such advocacy has never been the role of great critics.

Guh. Never? And, to boot: in fact?

Virgil Thomson, Pauline Kael, Andrew Porter: they’re still read, and still valuable, because they were writing about a lot more than whether or not their readers should bother to buy tickets.

Yes, yes, yes: and no! They wrote about "more" ("a lot more") but not to the exclusion of endorsing or recommending some things, some times. Which again is not absolute. Or, as the Dutch say, a "fact."**

Critics?

Anyone?

*Unless it's ironic, which is a different matter entirely (can one endorse irony?). Perhaps, though, irony is a sort of criticism, which should be left for another day.

**May not be true, as I don't speak Dutch.

Critics Are on the What Now?

Or:

The Concept of Criticism, with Continual Reference to The Simpsons (and Oblique Reference to Obscure Kierkegaard Tracts)

Hm. A bit slow lately, but Anne Midgette over at "The" Post, or, at least, the online equivalent thereof wherein classical music coverage has been hidden, muses for us:

Do Critics Matter?

Which, obviously, is a topic near and dear to us here at The Review.

(There is also a follow-up column, which I will address as well. Soon. -Ish.)

Clearly we think critics matter, not least because they help frame [the?] debate about music. But let's not jump the gun. What's up, Ms. Midgette?

The fact that the classical music, dance, and art critics are not represented in today's critics' survey in the Washington Post may give those of us in those disciplines extra reason to worry that what we write doesn't actually matter.

That is indeed worrisome. However, I'd argue that the worry is more about not being employed by the papers to write criticism than the relevance of criticism per se.

Arts critics, and the arts in general (as noted here frequently) are recipients of some of the earliest ax-blows of newspapers' attempts to have less content in order to stay relevant. While this may seem counterintuitive, shortsighted and stupid, don't be fooled--it's counterintuitive, shortsighted, and stupid.*

Meanwhile, though, celebrity gossip, fashion, and even horoscopes continue to be subjects which the newspapers think are, presumably, both profitable and a public good.

Seriously, people. Horoscopes? Any paper that prints that shit should be used solely for bird cage liner. That's right--I'm talking to you, Nancy Reagan. Fuck you.

But the whole idea that there should be some kind of correlation between reviews in the paper and ticket sales, or popularity, is fundamentally flawed to start with.

I'm not sure where this objection originated, but: yes. That's called marketing, and it's different than criticism. It's sort of like how having sex for money is different than having sex not for money.

It reveals a misunderstanding of what it is a critic does.

What does a critic do?

Figure 1: Homer Simpson, Food Critic

Our role is not to be mere consumer advocates, telling you how to spend your hard-earned dollars.

The assumption here is that my dollars are hard-earned, which I resent. Also, money can be exchanged for goods and services!

If that were the only point, newspapers might as well issue simple public-relations-style puff pieces and have done with it.

See above. No...further above. That one.

The role of a critic is to cover a field.

I like it! That's not what I might have said, but it's a good start...

Figure 2: Jacoby Ellsbury, Center Field Critic, Boston Red Sox

This doesn't mean simply pandering to popular taste.

One would hope not. That's Entertainment Weekly's job.

It means doing one's best to convey a sense of what is going on in a given discipline by writing about every possible side of it.

Uh, hmm. Sort of, except the side that has any grounding in technical terms that might alienate the casual reader (sometimes known by scary words like "theory" that rob art of its ability to foster feelings of ownership). That "possible side" is usually neglected. Now, there are reasons for this, but clearly "every possible side" is not really the scope of most arts criticism.

It means trying to convey a perspective that a reader who doesn't spend every night going to concerts/plays/films may not be able to gather himself; or offering a thoughtful take that might stimulate a reader who does go to everything to see something in a different light.

These are all valid points. I am very glad that it does not include "telling the reader how the art in question made you feel."

For part of our role is to foster dialogue and debate.

That is most excellent. And important. And sometimes neglected. And potentially powerful, and therefore potentially dangerous.

That doesn't mean setting forth judgments of taste in order that readers might fall obediently into line behind us.

Unless you're Bernard Holland. Sorry, but there ya go.

Quite the contrary: it may mean putting out views that one knows may represent the minority.

It...may.

It means being interested in the thoughts of those who disagree.

I think it means potentially being interested in those thoughts, but point taken.

This is good stuff.

It means being delighted when someone is powerfully moved by something one didn't like oneself.

Maybe. I am not delighted when people are "moved" by the Jonas Brothers, or a two week-long orgy of dead Zombie entertainer coverage. This is due to the effect it has on my own environment and quality of life. I don't begrudge them their, uh, crap. I just don't want to hear about it.**

I can't even go to the damn grocery store anymore. I'm not saying that all the magazines should have Mendelssohn's birthday issues--far from it. It seems to me that the potential good of having a plethora of Special Interest Magazines is that THEY DON'T ALL HAVE THE SAME FUCKING THING ON THE COVER.

Sorry. I don't usually e-yell like that. But all I wanted was some ice cream, and I got Zombie Rememberance Super Memorial Comemmorative Editions everywhere I looked.

It also means writing well enough that someone might want to read you -- a goal that's hard to reach if all you're doing is trying to push readers to buy tickets.

This is very true, and not a trivial point.

The disciplines collectively referred to as "the arts," commercial or not-for-profit, highbrow or low, offer a lot more than simply the possibility of passive consumption and a thumbs-up, thumbs-down reaction at the end of the exercise.

Oh, snap! Take that, Roger Ebert!***

Their very existence is a tacit reminder that there is a lot more out there than this passive consumption, and critics should be reminding people of this fact. To get diverted into yet another hand-wringing round of us-against-them, critics-are-dying-out, audiences-are-stupid plaints is pointless.

Aw, just one more round. Please?

Audiences aren't stupid, and if critics are feeling irrelevant, it's up to us to figure out how to become a more vital part of the debate. But if we measure "relevance" by how many tickets we sell or how many people agree with us, we've already abnegated our responsibility.

Bravo.

Two things.

One, go back and read the whole thing again, and imagine something like "composer" and "music" substituting for "critic" and "criticism."

Two, I am a bit light on Simpsons references considering my alternate title, so here is a corrective:

Figure 3: Ralph Wiggum, Cat-Food Breath Critic, Branches Out

I'll follow up Ms. Midgette's follow-up soon.

* I can't find the Groucho Marx quote to which I am referring. Rest assured, there is a clever reference being made here.

** I have my own crap, and don't want to be begrudged either.

*** Roger Ebert is actually a very fine writer, but this was an easy jab. So sue me.

In Defense of Anne

We make it a point to check in on Anne Midgette of the Washington Times [Edit: Er, post] every so often, as we do all our friends in the critics’ circle, just to see how she’s getting along. Maybe we’ll find something to poke fun at, but, more often than not, we won’t. She’s a strong writer who covers a ton of concerts and recordings each week. It’s a tough job.

That is why I think this deserves some attention. It’s a published response to one of her reviews in the Opinions/Feedback section.

Her writing was woefully poor, both in its structure and the specifics of her observations.

Since we don’t make it a priority to comment on comments, I’m a bit apprehensive about this endeavor. But, in the past year, we’ve seen many far, far worse tidbits of poor writing. That’s why I think Anne deserves some Detritus Credit (new low introductory rates, for qualified customers only). Here’s what the opinion writer finds troublesome:

This passage in particular represents how turgid and incomprehensible I often find her:

"Much of [Elliott Carter’s] work, to me, is like the product of an elaborate, state-of-the-art camera used to take black-and-white greeting-card images of urban environments: The technology can outweigh the impact of what's actually being conveyed."

Okay, the simile might be a tad convoluted, but I see Anne’s point. And while I disagree with her sentiment, I’m also familiar with a hoard of other writers who wouldn’t be so tactful, or so aware of their falibility.

What’s more, and more importantly, Anne prefaced her opinion of Carter’s music with the all-exclusive pronoun, “me.” It’s her opinion, no one else’s; the reader is free to disagree. Therefore, it’s “silly” to take it as something else other than an honest, indisputable opinion.

Getting through that sentence was a slog, and what I understood struck me as silly.

Well, it’s silly to be hypersensitive about a colorful simile hedged by “me,” too. (I’d have no problems ripping this a new one if she had said, “Carter’s music is an elaborate...”; stated as fact, that would have sent me Segwaying to a gun show in San Antonio.) The point is subtle, I suppose.















Fig. 1. Bloggers Segwaying

When she said of Carter's music that its "hallmark is a complexity too intricate to be apprehended by the ear," she could have been describing the limits of her own ear.

I do not have, by any means, an infallible ear, but it’s pretty decent. And I’ll tell ya something, Joe Opinion Holder, I can’t hear half the “technical” stuff going on in his music, especially without a score of some form of a priori information. Most can’t (I’ve only met one person who could, and that’s freakishly rare.). So, for most (by most, I mean 99.9999% of people), this is a truism. Are you implying that you possess a set of special, one-in-a-million ears? I think not, Joe.

While I applaud your defense of Carter’s music, Joe O. Holder, your critique of Anne is well off-base.

-

Also, what’s with the opinion Editors over at the Post? Remember this?
-

Christmas Cheers!

As our gift to all nine of our dear readers, I’ve linked an exemplary review of Handel's Messiah, by Anne Midgette of the Washington Post.

She dislikes the Messiah’s commoditization; she has meaningful and informative things to say about the performance; she even acknowledges that her gripes are kinda petty. But most importantly, she doesn't say anything stupid!

Well done!

Oh, and one more gift: Christmas Disco provided by Esther of Stax o' Wax!
-

Heroic Acts of Uploadery

We’ve probably all heard of the YouTube Symphony Orchestra, to be conducted by Michael Tilson Thomas (known acronymously as MTT). YouTubers can download Tan Dun’s new score, videotape themselves playing it, and upload their videos in the hopes that their performance will be one of the 150 accepted, which will then be superimposed onto the other videos culminating in one, gigantic collage. Meh. Could be interesting, I suppose.

Though, there’s something unusually ripe about all this hubbub.

To quote Anne Midgette:

The idea, launched by two YouTube employees at an offsite retreat about a year ago, is being greeted enthusiastically by the classical music world, which Tim Lee, one of the project's initiators, tactfully described as "hungry for innovation."

See, there’s being innovative, and then there’s...

Well, there’s the title of the piece:

"Internet Symphony No. 1: Eroica"

There’s YouTubing, then there’s...

...heroic YouTubing?

Even if the title isn’t supposed to reflect this new-fangled symphonic process, it’s quite the presumptuous, baggage-heavy, maybe even cocky, reference to one of the (emphasized: THE) most important symphonies ever, ever. Beethoven’s Eroica was trés innovative. It almost single-handedly ruined music, evermore.

This begs the question: How does Mr. Dun exhibit an heroic brand of music or innovation worthy of the name?

Speaking by video feed from London, Tan Dun said his piece attempts to connect "ancient and modern...”

Not original.

“East and West..."

So he’s rewriting his previous work?

...with actual [music] quotes...

As opposed to...? Original music quotes?

...with actual quotes ranging from a snippet of Beethoven's "Eroica..."

Heroic snippet!™ Get yours today and shipping is free!! For a limited time only. See store for details.

...to rhythmic footprints of Tchaikovsky to percussion effects that echo the street noise of today's global environment.

It’s no walk in der Wald, anymore, given today’s global environment! (enter Beethovenian urban/pastoral pun here)

Like I said, it could be interesting. There are plenty of supporters, for what that’s worth. (enter empty rhetoric here)

I just don't think it sends out a good forward-looking, classical-music-can-be-innovative-too message; it seems facile and terribly out of touch with organic properties/functions of the internet.
-

Ursa Major, Minor, and Augmented

We haven’t heard from Anne Midgette in while, so I thought, “What’s she been up to?”

-

I. In a Violinist’s Hands, The Masters Come Alive

Think Russian violinist, think high-profile recital debut at the Kennedy Center Concert Hall, and you might think words like soaring, singing, flashy, fireworks.

At least she didn’t say, “bear.” If I had a nickel for every time a critic called a Russian performer a bear...

















...I’d have ten billion-million-thousand-plex dirt-blackened nickels. Ugh. Anyway, thank you Anne for abstaining from the offensive “bear” connotation.

So far, so good.

You probably wouldn't think smoky, subtle, nuanced and understated.

It is said of us islanders, that we take our time to make friends, but when we do it’s for life...

Well, if you love Laphroaig you’ll understand.

But that was how the star violinist Vadim Repin began his overdue Washington recital debut, in the Debussy Violin Sonata, on Saturday afternoon.

To clarify: he began his overdue recital like a scotch whiskey.

Okay. I’m down. This could go places. And, to boot, I like scotch.

Repin slipped into the piece as if the music were a mantle, not a vehicle, something that shaped his appearance, rather than showcasing it.

This makes sense; I like it. But, I must reiterate: The Detritus Review is a no cape zone, period. We will not tolerate the advocacy of capes in any shape or form. Not even as metaphors. They are vulgar, pompous and a waste of the sheep, spiders and baby seals killed to make them.

Still, I want to hear more scotch and/or alcohol metaphors.

The music of the first movement was as soft and raspy and prickling as cigarette smoke: quintessentially Gallic, emphasized by little Satie-like punctuations [by the pianist].

I guess we left the scotch thing behind. (sigh)

-

II. From Russia, With Languor

What else ya doin’, Anne?

Valery Gergiev's right hand inhabits a world of its own. Most conductors' hands work independently of each other, but the very fingers of Gergiev's right hand appear to be on separate tracks, pursuing thoughts and ideas within the music that are not necessarily even audible. The hand supplies its own subtext.

That’s very observant, even if it has little to do with the music.

It dances, mesmerizing and odd, like a peculiarly agile crab.

...moving on...

In [Prokofiev’s] "Romeo and Juliet," the playing seesawed between mastery and routine. The winds' entrance with the love theme at one point sounded like a yawn, and the concertmaster, far from embodying the romantic ideals about Russian violinists,

...of Russian violinists?

...played peremptorily in a couple of his solos. Offering a whole act of this piece, rather than the more familiar concert excerpts, is a mixed blessing; you get the dramatic integrity of the work but also fewer highlights and slower pacing.

Now, I’m not sure that this is more Anne or me, but this seems to be a symptom of some kind. Of what? I’m not sure.

Point: Why is it that the journey is no longer the reward? That is, if a work is long and has few climaxes (highlights, memorable tunes; call ’em what you will), why is it often less rewarding than a short piece with lots of memorable doohickeys? Seems to me that many would say that the reward in Beethoven’s music is the journey; the journey rewarded with the coda. In the case of an extended concert version of “Romeo and Juliet,” aren’t you, as an audience member, being given extra context, with which you can appreciate the increasingly sparse highlights a little more?

Even Gergiev's right hand was subdued, by the end, into something approaching conservatism.

...a conservatively agile crab.

-

III. ‘The System’s’ Star

If Mozart had been in the hands of a publicist, he might have talked like Gustavo Dudamel.

In English, with a Spanish accent?

The thrillingly gifted 27-year-old conductor is the hottest property in classical music at the moment.

...like a dancing bear, perhaps?
-

Bzzzt! Thanks for Playing

Hypothetical situation:

Imagine that you’re going to a concert. However, you’re not going alone. You’re taking an old friend (I picture Samuel L. Jackson). The thing is, you want to have some fun. You decide that you’re not going to tell your friend where you’re taking him—it’ll be a surprise. So you blindfold him. Even after you arrive and sit down in your seats, the blindfold remains fixed.

Then...

...lute music!

McFarlane demonstrated great technical facility on his 18-stringed instrument, and his swift five-finger plucking would have created the illusion of several more musicians onstage...

In other words, your friend with the blindfold would have thought there was more than one musician. That’s how good this guy was.

...were it not for the lute's delicate timbre.

Naturally, without a blindfold, you would have been able to see that there was only one player. Sam L., on the other hand, would have been able to figure it out, because he could hear the timbre was delicate. You know, unlike the crude timbre of three lutes.

Um, yeah. (winces, inhales) I don’t know about that. Maybe I'm terribly nitpicky, but I would have guessed it was an auditory spatial location thing, not an auditory spectra recognition thing. So...

Bzzzt! Thanks for playing.
-

An American Symptom?

Puppies and kittens are amusing. Shiny things are amusing. Water-fountains are amusing. Automated phone messaging machines are amusing. But, editorials written by whiney, American symphony-goers are not amusing.

I have been a subscriber to the National Symphony Orchestra for more than 10 years, and I've been going to many other performances at the Kennedy Center ever since coming to Washington 44 years ago. But I am not going to renew our NSO subscription this year.

Why? Oh right, you’re going to tell us. Go on, then.

· No, it's not because the Music Center at Strathmore is more convenient by car and Metro.

What? You’d prefer there be a helicopter pad on the roof? A zip line from Bethesda?

· No, it's not because parking at the Kennedy Center costs $17.

Yikes.

· And no, it's not because the acoustics at the Kennedy Center are sub-par.

Well, why, then?

It's because of coughing.

Coughing...really? Coughing is the reason you no longer want to spend $507.50 per subscription, per year? Really?

Yes, coughing has become so pervasive at Kennedy Center performances that one wonders why people should even go out to listen to live music or theater.

Logic reduction alert!

Coughing at Kennedy Center => Don’t go to Carnegie Hall

Enough attention paid to hyperbole, already. Explain yourself!

It was so bad during the exquisitely soft and delicate final movement of Mahler's Third Symphony during an October 2007 concert that I wrote a letter of complaint to the NSO.

For the most part I am in favor of strong letters of complaint, but not in this case. That’s just insensitive. What if you had to cough? Would it be perfectly acceptable for someone tell you to leave--after all, you spent $507.50 for your premium seat?

I was not alone in voicing that concern: NSO music director Leonard Slatkin was so upset by the coughing that evening that he commented on it during the performance.

What a dick!

And the next day, Post critic Tim Page wrote about it in his review: "Alas, many in the audience coughed through much of the last movement last night."

But did the coughing stop him from enjoying the concert? Perhaps, only momentarily. Just saying, if you were a John Cage fan, you wouldn’t have a problem with coughing, or laughing, or noise beyond the doors, or even cellphones.

In my first letter I suggested that the NSO and the Kennedy Center do some research into the cause of this excessive, disruptive, mood-breaking hacking.

Again, just saying, but coughing is probably related to sickness or smoking or something. You really want them to research the matter, instead of providing you with the best music and performances possible, with your $507.50?

How have other concert halls dealt with this problem? Do they issue edicts? Do they make cough drops available in the lobby?

Vote “none of the above,” Brewster.

During a recent trip to Europe, I heard little if any coughing during symphonic concerts in the gilded, glittering concert halls of Prague, Vienna and Budapest.

That’s the equivalent of saying, “I went whale-watching three times and didn’t see any whales.”

Are Hungarians immune to the sniffles?

No. Are you?

Fun facts: In Hungary, there are 9,930,915 people and only 32 McDonald’s. This gives us a ratio of 1 Ronnie Mac per 310,341 Hungarians.

In the Untied States, there are 303,824,646 people and 13,381 McDonald’s. This gives us a ratio of 1 MacDo per 22,606 Americans.

What was that about the sniffles, again?

Do Austrians rarely have sinus problems?

Doubtful. But they do have a fairly comprehensive healthcare system.

Do Czechs check their coughs at the cloakroom?

You mean, like farting into a jar?

Hardly. It must be that those audiences are aware of the disrupting, incommoding effect of coughing on the tranquil mood created by the pianissimo passages of a composition.

That is, if they assume—remember what they say about people who assume things?—that all pianissimos are tranquil.*

The managers of concert halls and theaters have been inveighing for some time against the electronic and mechanical noisemakers of our age, including pagers, alarm watches and the most recent curse, cellphones.

If you mean by recent, “within the last 15 years,” here’s something even newer for you to expunge.

Why hasn't the Kennedy Center urged its patrons to silence the natural noisemakers all concertgoers carry to every concert: their larynxes?

While we’re at it, why don’t we staple everyone’s lips, plug noses with Crazy Glue and sew assholes shut with dental floss? And why stop there? Why don’t we cut off people’s hands (you don’t want spasmodic clapping)? Or how about restricting the types shoe soles that can be worn inside the hall? Ooh! I know! All program notes should be printed on cloth.

And because the NSO refuses to do any of this, you’re not going to plop-down $507.50 for a subscription anymore?

My wife and I will miss seeing the familiar faces of National Symphony Orchestra members who almost seem like family to us after all the years of harmony.

Oh sorry. $1015.

We will miss the exquisite musical moments we've heard so often in recent years under Maestro Slatkin. We will miss the exciting responsiveness of the orchestra that we heard when it was under the direction of its new principal conductor, Ivan Fischer.

“Hey, honey. Remember how the NSO was so responsive?”

“Yeah. It was exciting, the responsiveness. There was too much coughing, though.”

But we will not miss sitting in the Kennedy Center trying to listen to a concert through all the wheezing, hacking and, yes, coughing.

Isn’t hacking another word for coughing?

*I have an idea for my next composition: an opera about prison life, where inmates lovingly, but quietly, sing sweet nothings to each other at night.
-

Why the Detritus?

I enjoy Anne Midgette’s articles. She’s thoughtful. She’s articulate. She’s eloquent even—a nice fit with the venerable Washington Post. But today...

Somebody forgot to tell the violinist Hilary Hahn that Schoenberg is ugly.

This is, by far, the most disappointing thing I’ve ever read from a respectable, industrious, (how about) progressive critic. More importantly—because after all that was only my opinion—she crossed the boundary between impartiality and partiality. “Schoenberg is ugly” is declarative in the worst, most biased sense. This is something we expect from others, but not our Anne!

And now for something completely different:

The music of Arnold Schoenberg, of course, isn't ugly at all;

How can this be? She just said, “Schoenberg IS ugly.” I don’t get it. What kind of twisted negative rhetorical device is this?

(loud, pissed-off sigh)

Sorry. Well, I’m not sorry. No one gets to have it both ways. Either Schoenberg is or he isn’t. So, Anne, choose the form of the destructor.

in fact, he's one of the last of the romantics.

Let me understand this correctly. Schoenberg isn’t ugly, BECAUSE he’s a romantic composer; if he were a modernist, he’d be ugly. Is that really the direction you want to take this, Anne?

...

Fine.

Her new recording of the Schoenberg Violin Concerto on Deutsche Grammophon, released last month, shows no traces of the spiky, unpleasant angularity that represents Schoenberg in the popular consciousness.

You, Anne, and all critics are the everyday opinion-molders of the popular consciousness. Thus, Schoenberg’s reputation is your doing. You are the one(s) responsible for his unpleasantness. They are your descriptors.

I mean, listen, really listen, to what this says:

Both musicians [Esa-Pekka Salonen and Hahn] are smart enough not to get tied in knots by Schoenberg's score, and to see through it to the composer's inner romantic.

It says that the conductor and violinist smartly mined romanticism out of Schoenberg’s otherwise ugly, difficult, spiky, unpleasantly angular, dense, clotted, ferocious piece (all adjectives found previously within the article).

Do you now see how Schoenberg and modernism get their reputations? Reviews like this, which say, “Despite Schoenberg, the music is beautiful, because of the performers.” What kind of dismissive, backhanded logic forgets that the composer put those sounds, those romantic, angular notes, onto paper and not the performers? Apparently articles like these:

To sweeten the pill for non-initiates, Hahn pairs Schoenberg with Sibelius [...]

I am truly disgusted and disappointed, today. But, then again, this is why we are here: to defend good writing and trash the bad.

(By the way, I didn’t say “fuck” once, but I wanted to. Congrats Empiricus! Thank you.)
-

Midgette's Wang: A Freaky 'Favorite'

It’s true that Yuja Wang made an appearance at the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra, but this isn’t about that. This is about something else. In fact, this is about this:

It was amusing, or bemusing, that the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra's most recent program (heard Friday night) was part of the orchestra's series called "Favorites," an attempt to label some greatest hits for the benefit of new concertgoers.

Concert programmer: “In my attempt to figure out how we can make more money, I’ve come up with several ideas. Let’s pander to the lowest common denominator. Let’s turn our concert hall into a dead museum. Let’s lease advertising space and rename ourselves the ‘Wal-Mart Symphony Orchestra.’ How’s that sound?”

Board members (in unison): “Huzzah!”

What a joke, right?

The piece that earned it this designation was Berlioz's "Symphonie Fantastique" -- a greatest hit, true enough.

I know. It’s like the most famousest piece ever, ever.

But it is also a comment on what the orchestral repertory has become that a piece this weird and warty,

Well... back in 1830. Yes. It was weird and warty.

so category-defying,

In 1830. Today, we call it a tone-poem or a programmatic symphony.

revolutionary

Sure, in 1830.

and altogether uncomfortable

But it’s the most famousest piece ever, ever. How can it be uncomfortable if it’s so familiar?

But it is also a comment on what the orchestral repertory has become that a piece this weird and warty, so category-defying, revolutionary and altogether uncomfortable [...], should be presented under a rubric that seems to connote tame respectability.

[It. mine] The first version of the piece is 178 years-old! It is the most famousest piece. Ever. Ever! How can you say that Berlioz is not representative of the canon after nearly two centuries of fame-having-ness? How can you think that it’s weird, even today?

...

Hello? Anne? Are you still there?

The other two works on the program certainly fit nobody's definition of "favorites": Prokofiev's First Piano Concerto, a piece that's young, brash and short, and...

Whoa. Stop right there.

Let me get this right. So you’re saying that the Prokofiev is young?

When was this review written again? (checks date) April 28, 2008. I was right. It was written today.

And the Prokofiev Concerto was written when? 1910? And it’s young? Huh...?

-

Oh. I get it. Some people or critics have selective amnesia. They block out anything that’s younger than Elliott Carter. There’s a black void where musical modernism used to be. So, in that light, the Symphonie Fantastique is only roughly 80 years-old and the Prokofiev is a spring chickadee.
-

Spreading Joy from Heaven Above--The Lower the Better

Seriously, how low can you go?

Hmmm. How low CAN you go? Well, how’s this? Click here.

*Edit [Empiricus]: It's best to open the Youtube link in another window and let it play while you read on.

That’s pretty low. But I was thinking a little lower.

Then, how about this? The Detritus Review will, for the first time, criticize a criticism of a criticism. “Come again,” you say? Today, the Detritus Review insults an opinion sent to the Washington Post that takes issue with an Anne Midgette review. “Now that’s low!” I assure you, dear reader, it is, generally.

“That’s totally unfair. The poor, undefended opinion holder doesn’t deserve to be ridiculed by your snarky little meta-blog,” you say.

Well (said in a smug manner)! Even lower—which technically, or so I thought, couldn’t be done—the Washington Post actually published this opinion. “But publishing the public’s responses is a sign of humility, and ethical rigor,” you say. “There’s nothing wrong with that!” Again, my dear reader, this is a new kind of low for the Detritus, I assure you.

“Honestly, what could be so bad that you nobodies have such a ravenous disregard for someone else’s entitled opinion?”

Read on.

-

Anne Midgette recently reviewed a production of Verdi’s Rigoletto by the Washington National Opera, directed by noted soprano Catherine Malfitano. All in all, it was a lukewarm review, saying that

[...] what Malfitano did not manage to do -- in part because of the cast she had to work with -- was give the characters, particularly Rigoletto and the Duke, a sense of inner motivation. The whole thing came across as a kind of detailed pantomime, in which many of the singers went very well through all the requisite "Rigoletto" motions (not to say shtick) while pumping out great quantities of loud operatic sound. Not everybody will see this as a bad thing; in fact, it might be exactly what many opera-goers want.

She goes on.

You're left with glorious music, a cast able to sing the notes, and all the trappings of Mantua. What more do you want, and what more can interpretation do? Well, conceivably, it can elevate opera from pantomime to a kind of drama that can move us.

Of course opera is mainly about the music, and about the voice. But that music, those voices, are ideally about the expression of human feeling -- not just about getting through the score's hurdles, making an impact and collecting applause.

What I take from her review, is that Anne wasn’t terribly impressed with the production—it wasn’t the best Rigoletto, but it wasn’t the worst. I think that’s a fair assessment. I also think that it’s a fine review, nothing worth getting hot and bothered about.

-

In comes Selwa Roosevelt, a dissenting opinion holder.

I usually think it counterproductive to complain to a newspaper about a particular review.

You're talking to the wrong blog. But. BUT, I still understand your apprehensiveness.

And being on the board of trustees of the Washington National Opera makes me even more hesitant.

It should.

But I cannot let Anne Midgette's outrageous March 31 review of "Rigoletto" pass without comment [...].

Outrageous? Even we at the Detritus have to take critics’ opinions with a grain of salt. Why was it outrageous? I don’t understand.

I have seen dozens of performances of "Rigoletto" around the world, and I can honestly say that the WNO's production is the best I have ever seen.

Holy Hitler on a unicycle, juggling frozen fish! Among other problems, by qualifying your remark with “honestly,” I have to assume that your other statements were disingenuous. Or, if I were crafty, I could interpret “honestly” as subterfuge. But to what end?

All the principals were superb, and, contrary to your reviewer's assessment, everyone I have talked with was thrilled with the performance of Carlos Alvarez as Rigoletto.

People with whom Roosevelt talked: Harry Truman, Josie Packard, Maddy Ferguson, Leland Palmer, Cathrine Martell, Bobby Briggs, Benjamin Horne, Dr. Lawrence Jacoby, the Giant and the Venus de Milo in the Red Room.

By referencing others, this opinion seems to be on behalf of others. Sneaky.

He has a sensational, big voice that was far more nuanced than what Midgette reported.

You heard it here, from the expert’s mouth. Still, it’s only a contrary opinion. Go on.

But my opinions are beside the point.

They are? Isn’t this a place designed specifically for opinions? What, then, is the point?

The sad part is that Washingtonians, who get to see precious little opera as it is, would certainly be put off by her review and would miss the final two wonderful performances tonight and tomorrow.

A FUCKING ADVERTISEMENT, written by a member of the board of trustees of the Washington National Opera! PUBLISHED AS AN OPINION!

-

My dear reader,

Who reached the lowest depths, today? The Detritus? The Washington National Opera? Or the Washington Post for not realizing that it was a cheap PR stunt?

Yours truly,

Empiricus

-

A Smelly, Half-Minute Quicky

This is just a brief “screw you” to Robert Batty of the Washington post, who took the time to pull out his thesaurus, find the word “spinose” and apply it to Elliott Carter.

Elliott Carter’s Second String Quartet is almost 50 years old,

That would put Carter at 49.

yet it remains as spinose and elusive as ever. Carter’s highly refracted and layered music lacks any conventional gestures (the instruments never play anything together),

Screw you.

let alone harmonic or melodic guideposts.

Screw. You.

But when essayed with such fervor as [the Julliard String Quartet], his vision is somehow compelling;

Somehow?! Screw you, somehow.

it is as though some complex scientific process like atom-splitting is rendered in sound. Not for every taste, but reflective of today’s clinical, minatory world.

Minatory: expressing or conveying a threat.
-

My Brain Hurts

Which is why I won’t go into depth about this... this thing, by Anne Midgette of the Washington Post. She’s describing the music of Toru Takemitsu.

His music has an organic quality, a self-contained sense of being governed by its own forces, sometimes as hard to grasp or explain as sea foam...

Good luck with the grasping and subsequent explaining, Anne. I’m really pulling for you.
-

Mad Lib: for Experts

Arrange the extracted adjectives into their appropriate positions, if you dare.

wayward
warm
quiet
reflective
searching
hesitant
fascinating

concentrated

But the quality of [the performer’s] playing--__________ and __________, yet _________--came through most clearly in the Feldman piece and in John Cage’s “In a Landscape,” a stream of __________, __________ arpeggios. Here [the performer] made each note glisten individually, and then connected the resulting harmonies into a ___________, ___________, ___________ path forward.


Hint(s):

Here is some of Morton Feldman’s piano music, “Triadic Memories.”

This is John Cage’s “In a Landscape.”


Click here for the answer.

Good Luck! You’re going to need it.
-