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...?

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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.
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Kosman's Wang: Tonally Firm

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

In an otherwise exemplary review, he says this:

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

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

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

Later on, the same problem arises.

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

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

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

Rhythmically fresh could use some qualification, too.

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

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

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

Winningly sardonic italics mine.

Metaphor Hit by Pitch, Charges Mound

Baseball season is here again and it comes of no surprise that baseball metaphors are flying off the bats. And even the pianists seem to have a better shot of going all the way than the Giants.

Pianist hits home run with Mendelssohn

This one comes from the San Jose Mercury News and author Georgia Rowe, presumably a Giants or A’s fan. Now, I’m all for baseball metaphors, in general. Home runs are part of our collective American lexicon. So it saddens me when the metaphor becomes awkwardly stretched, to say the least.

Everybody loves a great pinch hitter, and [pianist Yuja Wang] was an excellent example of an artist stepping up to fill in on short notice...

I’m thinking Kirk Gibson, hobbling ‘round the bases, fist pumping, sleazy moustache (I’m still mad about that one). The problem here is, one, the assertion "everyone loves a great pinch hitter" is thorny. With the exception of one lousy, lucky Kirk Gibson at bat, I can’t think of another “great” pinch hit or hitter. (Any suggestions?) At any rate, there are simply no “great” pinch hitters for anyone to love. If they were great, they’d be playing everyday, not coming to bat in substitution for a pitcher in the latter innings.

Two, because of the improbability of there actually being great pinch hitters, I assume that Kirk Gibson was the inspiration for this sloppy metaphor, in which case, he was a Dodger(s), a hated rival of the Giants and victors over the A’s in ‘88. So why, oh why, would a Giants or A’s fan construct this metaphor around a glorious Dodgers World Series moment, if only to dump on this season’s futility (the Giants will stink with the best of them, the A’s are question marks), thereby dumping on Yuja Wang? Unless...

Unless Georia Rowe is a Dodgers fan, celebrating both Kirk and Yuja! Oh my!

Watch out Bay Area baseball fans! Georgia Rowe is the enemy.