(Late Late) Friday Quickie

"Food Metaphor Friday"

Classical Music Review: Redlands symphony delivers the wow factor
(Sherli Leonard, [Riverside?] Press Enterprise, 3/15/2010)

The wow factor, eh? How's that working out for you? Good? I hope it's good.

It sure sounds good.

The Redlands Symphony Orchestra served up standard musical fare at the Saturday night concert with anything but standard ingredients.

What was that like?

It was like serving mac and cheese with Cowgirl Creamery cheeses and organic wheat pasta from Italy.

I mean: think about it. Italy!

Figure 1: Circa 1490

(Because I was all like, "This is a lame food metaphor!" but then it was all like, "Dude, Italy!" and I was all like, "Whoah.")

Tchaikovsky and Higdon make the perfect pear

One of our favorite memes at the Detritus is food metaphors. Oh, no words seem to explain the greatness of a piece of music quite like the comestibles it has nothing to do with.

Today's entry comes to us from the Richmond Times-Dispatch where Angela Lehman-Rios has the difficult task of explaining the difference between a "concerto" and a "concerto for orchestra".

Symphony impressive on a wide range of works

Saturday's Masterworks concert by the Richmond Symphony explored the relationship of parts to a musical whole.

I'm not at all certain what that means, but it sure does sound important.

What parts are we breaking down today. Are we just looking at rhythm? or perhaps harmony? Perhaps those are bit too broad...timbre maybe?

Oh, why guess when you can just tell me.

While the parts were sometimes more interesting, the sum was certainly a pleasure to behold.

So, the parts were more interesting, but you liked the whole thing too?

What were we comparing again?

The program started with "D'un Matin de Printemps" by Lili Boulanger.

Oh, no time for that "parts to the whole" discussion...looks like we've got actual music.

From its shimmering beginning to its full-bodied end, the short work demonstrates the grace and power of an orchestra playing all together.

Yes, the piece features a burst of bold raspberry, slutty kiwis and rambunctious African horned melons, along with hints of chicken, gravel and compost. After a short fugal explosion of toner, semisynthetic organic amorphous solids, and black currant, there is a long finish of nacho cheese with an intriguing ferrous hint.

Conductor Erin Freeman easily drew a rich, balanced sound from the musicians.

Excellent! So, it's as though Erin Freeman made a cohesive whole from the sum of the parts.

I like the unity. Go on.

Tchaikovsky's Concerto in D major for Violin and Orchestra, on the other hand, is a showpiece for a soloist.

Yes, I know what a concerto is, thank you very much.

[snip]

Okay, so far so good. What else was on the concert?

The evening concluded with the five-movement "Concerto for Orchestra," written in 2002 by Jennifer Higdon.

Wait, what? You said this is a concerto...but for what instrument? "Orchestra" is not an instrument, but instead is the sum of many instruments.

This work combines or isolates parts of the orchestra -- entire sections or players within a section -- in various ways, and also gives the full orchestra the sort of brilliant writing a concerto soloist gets.

So, it's a standard orchestra piece? I guess I don't follow. Perhaps you can break this down for me in easier to understand terms.

Think of a salad, if you will.

Okay. A salad.

figure salad: A salad.

Got it.

A violin concerto is grilled tuna atop a bed of greens...,

Whoa, whoa. Slow down...

...violin. concerto. is. grilled. tuna...

...but Higdon's work is a Greek salad:

...Higdon's. is. Greek. salad. Got it.

Okay. But what does it all mean?

In any bite, the feta, the pepperoncinis or the crisp lettuce may stand out, but the flavors work together as a whole.

But the tuna doesn't work together with the greens?

I think I understand?

Nevertheless,...

What do you mean, "nevertheless". We were just on the edge of breakthrough!

Okay, we'll move on, but this better be good.

...the second and fourth movements are perhaps most attractive for new listeners,...

What kind of salad are they?

...since they single out sections of the orchestra (string and percussion, respectively), which makes it simpler to take in something unfamiliar.

Huh? So the reason new music has had such a difficult time finding mainstream audiences is the fault of the woodwinds and the brass sections?!?

Does Brian Ferneyhough know this?

The symphony's percussionists were clearly enjoying the chance to demonstrate a vast range of sounds, and delighted murmurs could be heard from the audience.

Don't they know you're not supposed to talk in between movements? That's like talking with your mouth full. It's just gross.

The third movement features short solos played by section leaders who are joined by the section and often paired with another section.

The section leaders are joined by the section and paired with another section?

Strangely, that couldn't make more sense.

Yes, pairing section leaders with a contrasting side section can be an effective way to build a menu...er, I mean work.

The violas, led by Molly Sharp, made delicious work of their tune,...

[insert food joke here]

...while Russell Wilson's piano and Lynette Wardle's harp were also highlights. Leisurely crescendos and decrescendos bind the elements together, as does a sliding motif played by the strings, although it becomes tiresome.

Yep, her music only has two moves: shake, and bake.

The full orchestra performed expertly in the first and fifth movements, and the piece ended with a flashy Hollywood-esque cadence that made the audience laugh.

Hehe. Film music is funny.

...

sigh.

Tuesday Trivia

I’m going to skip around, so bear with me. But first, some trivia!

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We know what harmony is. We know what a harmonic progression is. We know what harmonic reduction is. We even know what harmonic rhythm is. But what in the world is “true harmonic pulse”?

Answer here: paragraph three.

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Truth be told, I don’t mind Bernard’s assessment of Thomas Ades’ Violin Concerto’s complication. After all, Bernard used the magic words, “to my ears,” which absolves him of overprecise commitment. That doesn’t mean I agree with him; it just means that I can’t refute him, despite not knowing what “true harmonic pulse” actually is.

Though I’d sleep better if I knew why it was qualified with “true” or why

Complexity is a matter of content; complication is a different and less praiseworthy quality.

Guess I’m doomed to a life with insomnia.

On the other hand, judgments beginning with “clearly,” “obviously,” or the like, should have some degree of objectivity, like, “Surely, according to the pie chart, party clowns are better because they own a greater percentage of stock in...”, or “By far, there are more bananas in the jungle than walruses,” or “Certainly, the conductor was becoming irritated by the percussionist’s refusal to stop texting his BFF.”

Without a certain amount of objectivity the argument, in my opinion, becomes weakened, like using the passive voice and the phrase, “in my opinion.”

By far the most successful passage comes about halfway through the long central slow movement.

See? After the “by far the most successful,” we need some qualification, some objectivity. We know where it was successful. But why was it so successful?

Here Adès, abandoning for a while the intricate rhythms that have made much of the solo music a trial for any soloist, allows the violin to sing its heart out in a sequence of sustained, easefully diatonic phrases.

In essence, what Bernard is saying (I think) is that the passage was successful because it was easy, uncomplicated, that the rhythms were no longer intricate.

Which totally negates a previous statement.

A listener coming unprepared to the work, 20 minutes long and subtitled "Concentric Paths," could be forgiven for thinking it relatively easy to play, for the prevailing effect of the solo part is simple and songful [...]

If the entire piece seemed easy, then why would that particular passage be “by far the most successful”? Because it was diatonic? I’m pretty sure that’s, by far, subjective.

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More Trivia:

What do Ades’ Violin Concerto, Mussorgsky’s Night on Bald Mountain, and Stravinsky’s Firebird have in common?

Answer here: paragraph five.
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Food Metaphors, Modern Music, and a Side of Redundancy

For the food metaphors, we have only to look at the title and its subordinate:

Bread, butter, with a side of surprise

How delightfully wordplayee!

In big season finale, Philharmonic leaves audience hungry for more

Squeee! I can never have too many food metaphors.

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For the modern music, we need to take the Delorian for a ride.

“La Creation du Monde [sic],” composed in 1923 by Darius Milhaud, is a jazz-influenced ballet in six parts, inspired by the Parisian composer’s strolls in New York’s Harlem in the 1920s.

Also, badass punk rockers have no need for acute accents.

I may be giving music director Itkin too much credit, but programming the Milhaud seemed like the conductor’s punk-rock move, signalling to the audience: “Don’t get too comfortable.”

Anarchy in Sugar Hill!

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And for the redundancy, behold:

And then the main event, the robust men robustly echoing and volleying with the clarion women in the resounding variations, building to the cathartic, celestial “Ode to Joy,”

...wait for it...

which evoked a surge of joy [...]

It’s good to be back, Detritusites! Stay tuned for more regular postings.
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Composer of the Day!

Today's Composer of the Day! is Bedřich Smetana.

(1824-1884)

Smetana was a Bohemian (modern-day Czech Republic) composer. He is associated with the 19th century Nationalist movement.

This means, essentially, two things. First, his music was sometimes based on folk and national music from his...nation. Second, much of his music is about Bohemia (or Czechoslovakia), in one way or another. This includes topics about traditional Bohemian stories or folk heroes and stuff like that.

His most famous piece is a series of symphonic poems about Bohemia called "Má Vlast" (My Fatherland). Also famous is his opera "The Bartered Bride", the overture to which is often performed in symphony programs today. He wrote many other operas, and lots of symphonic music.

Lesser known are his chamber works, which are more biographical in nature. Or so the story goes.

He died in an insane asylum in Prague. He had a progressive neurological disease (possibly tinnitus). Back then, anyone with a neurological disease was deemed insane, I guess. Oh, well!

You can check out some music here and here and here.

Most importantly, perhaps, his name translates roughly to "Fred Sour Cream". Which is awesome.

You should listen to his music!
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Still Life with Mad Lib

Hispanic Classics Flavor a New York Debut

I really, really hope you say it was “spicy” or “spiced up” to reinforce the cultural stereotype you’re invoking. But thanks! Because I get to use the "food metaphor" tag. Which is awesome.

The first New York appearance by the State Symphony Orchestra of Mexico had all the makings of an occasion. Enrique Bátiz, an estimable maestro and the orchestra’s founder, conducted on Sunday afternoon at the Lehman Center for the Performing Arts in the Bronx. The program featured a promising mix of European, Mexican and American classics, and a noteworthy soloist, the Mexican guitarist Alfonso Moreno.

Occasions are outstanding! On one memorable occasion, I sat in a chair and drank a gin and tonic. Was it going to be like that?

But even before a note had been played, the concert got off to an awkward start. Eva Bornstein, the executive director of the center, told the audience that the soul singer Brian McKnight and the salsa artist Tito Nieves had drawn a capacity crowd on Saturday night, but that this concert, by a prestigious orchestra, had done considerably less well.

She…told the audience that it was too small? Before the concert started? That is awkward! Why would someone do that?

“We don’t want to do just entertainment events here,” Ms. Bornstein said. “We want to do cultural programs as well.”

Translation: Soul and salsa are entertainment, not art. Too bad for you, other cultures!

Despite low ticket prices and a comfortable hall easily accessible by road or mass transit, the house seemed half full. And you had to wonder whether low attendance played a role in a performance that failed to live up to its promise.

It’s the audience’s fault when performers underperform.

Anyway. Let’s have a Mad Lib!

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Arrange the extracted modifiers back into their appropriate positions. This is kind of a hard one!

bawdy/brisk/disengaged/dry/efficient/flat/playful/radiant/untidy

Bernstein’s “Candide” Overture, the opening work, was _______ and _______ but seldom _______. Mr. Bátiz kept an _______ pace but seemed otherwise _______. The _______, _______ acoustics exaggerated some _______ ensemble passages; high woodwinds, xylophone and glockenspiel popped out as if amplified. Even so, the orchestra endowed tuttis with a positively _______ glow.

Click here for the answer.

New York Times Writers Love Food Metaphors, Hate Cold

A decent little review that requires a little gentle ribbing:

Sources of Heat and Light to Challenge an Icy Season

At least in the NY Times they understand capitalization [looks askance at Houston Chronicle].

On a miserably cold winter evening,

Mr. Holland? NO?! You’ve been sitting too close to him, then.

musical comfort food

The sonic equivalent of macaroni and cheese? Or cassoulet? I’m confused, and a little sad. But not cold! Take that, New York in February!

like Schumann’s vibrant Piano Quintet provides warming nourishment.

It does? Okay, metaphorically, I guess. Seems lazy, though (although I do get to use the “food metaphor” tag!).

It was given a vigorous performance on Monday at Weill Recital Hall by the Modigliani String Quartet and the pianist Jean-Frédéric Neuburger.

Jean-Frédéric...Neuburger? I’m guessing he’s…Scotch/Irish?

The Modigliani, with the violinists Philippe Bernhard and Loïc Rio, the violist Laurent Marfaing and the cellist François Kieffer,

What’s with the French first name/German last name thing? Are they Flemish or something?

was founded in 2003 at the Paris Conservatory,

Oh. No. Just French. One assumes. And apparently young. That’s cool.

where its members studied with the Ysaÿe Quartet.

Nice mentors to have, I’ll wager. I bet they’re good…

Both Mr. Neuburger, 21, and the ensemble were winners of the 2006 Young Concert Artists International Auditions and made their debuts in the Young Concert Artists series last season. They were presented here by the organization in an encore performance.

Apparently they’re actually awesome, too! Sounds like a great concert. On a miserable night.

The musicians plunged into Schumann’s Piano Quintet (written in 1842, a prolific year for his chamber music)

His...music was prolific that year? I call bullshit.

with youthful dynamism, bringing the requisite vitality to the exuberant opening measures and the fugue of the finale. Mr. Bernhard’s tone occasionally turned strident in the excitement, but it was an enjoyable performance, and Mr. Neuburger made fine contributions.

The dynamism was youthful, the vitality requisite. What?

The concert opened with Debussy’s String Quartet, which mystified audiences at its premiere in 1893.

I think they call that a lede. It’s supposed to make me more interested. It did! I love that piece! I’d like to hear more about that!

Too bad for me.

The Modigliani played with animated zest, and an underlying tension built up momentum to frenetic climaxes, highlighting the taut pizzicatos

(pizzicati)

in the second movement and the languid exchange of the main theme in the third.

Hey! Now I know where Empiricus gets his mad libs. (And why.) The zest was animated! Animated, I tell you! Is the “zest” thing part of the larger food metaphor?

Mr. Neuburger also offered a solo selection: the Prelude and Fugue, No. 14, and the Prelude and Fugue, No. 15, from Shostakovich’s Opus 87 cycle. The bleakness of the No. 14 prelude (interrupted here by a loud cellphone) contrasted with the initial energy of the No. 15. But as with much Shostakovich, that work soon descended into relentless despair.

Relentless despair. Like much Shostakovich. So much semiotics, so little time.

Mr. Neuburger’s chilling rendition of the manically macabre fugue from No. 15 made me shiver.

Ok, a little redemption for the overly-described but cleverly alliterated “maniacally macabre”.

As an encore to reward the enthusiastic full house, the musicians played the third movement from Brahms’s Piano Quintet, a satisfying dish to fortify listeners heading out into the frigid night.

Fortified, they went into the cold night, warm. What was this thing called again?

Sources of Heat and Light to Challenge an Icy Season

The heat was…from the fortifying comfort food-music. I think.

The light…never really came up. The Shostakovich sounds dark-ish...

Maybe the zest was light? Like...lemon zest, to brighten a dish? I’m confused again. But not cold!

Wherein the Same Article is Criticized by the Other Blogger

As an exercise in style, I decided to analyze the same article Empiricus studied in the previous post.

Seattle Symphony: An evening of sweet (and sour) selections

When a conductor picks up a microphone to address the audience about the music they're going to hear, the audience can be pretty sure of one thing: They aren't expected to like the piece.

What? Really?! That’s your topic statement? I guess you’ve never been to a “new music”concert. And: What kind of maniac would program such tripe? And what kind of an editor would assign an ignorant reviewer to review a program such as this? Also: Varèse is hardly new. This is a very, very famous piece. You’ve never heard it? Why are you qualified to write about music, again?

By the time guest conductor Michael Stern had finished telling Thursday's Seattle Symphony audience about Varèse's "Intégrales,"

Oh, it’s Varèse. I love Varèse. That is an awesome fucking piece. A monumental piece. A difficult piece? Sure, yes, indeed. But historically influential and completely rad. Superlative. Groundbreaking. Unique. Your problem is that…?

it's a wonder they weren't fleeing the hall en masse.

People hate modernism? Oh, wait. They may or may not, but you are here to ensure that they do hate modernism. What is all that random noise? Oh, it’s modernism. Highly influentual, respected, studied modernism. You have no idea what you’re talking about.

With Stern's every phrase ("A certain weird clarity," "An assault on the senses"), the impending work loomed more ominously.

Weird things are scary? Every movie made recently isn’t an assult on the senses? I almost had to turn off “Gladiator” the first time I saw it because there’s an edit every .7 seconds.

When the downbeat finally came, and the small wind ensemble plus a whole armory of percussion began to play Varèse's chaotic motifs and random-sounding outbursts, no one could say we weren't warned.

What are you saying? You were warned, but refused to leave because…you love modernism? You’re masochistic? You…are too dumb too leave after de facto being told to by the conductor? You have no tolerance for what was considered new 70 years ago. You have no business writing about music. You are, basically, an idiot.

The evening's main attraction was the cellist Lynn Harrell (who has for decades been one of the leading soloists on his instrument), playing a relative novelty: the Victor Herbert Cello Concerto No. 2. Deeply romantic and quaintly charming, the seldom-heard work lacks the musical depth of the best cello concertos, but the repertoire is not so extensive that cellists can afford to ignore the more minor gems. Certainly Harrell gave the piece a tremendous run, lavishing on it his great tonal range — from the assertive passages of the allegro movements to the velvety, soft-focus tone with which he played the slow, dreamy middle movement.

Crap. That is crappy neo-romantic schlock. Fine. That is fine, if people want to write/listen to that music. Okay. It has nothing to say. You would rather listen to 1840 rehashed as 1940 than music that addresses issues relevant to the time in which it was composed. That’s super. Classical music is stuck in 1840, and you’re okay with that. In fact, that is not the case, and you wish it was. Ugh.

Stern, who is music director of the Kansas City Symphony, proved an able accompanist in the concerto, but he made most of his musical points in the program finale, the Rachmaninoff Symphony No. 3. This is a work he clearly loves, and he urged the Symphony forward in the swoony romantic melodies and the chirruping little figures that seem to be the hallmark of most Rachmaninoff works. Balances were not always ideal (the orchestra section with the melody didn't always emerge from the neighboring sections), but most of the solo work was very nicely done,

The Rachmaninoff was good. Great! You didn’t waste your evening, I guess.

and the Rachmaninoff proved a sweet dessert after the acerbic opener.

You don’t get it. That’s fine. Varèse is “acerbic”. Wow. Rachmaninoff is “dessert”. You are a first-class wordsmith. You hate [read: have no idea about] modernism. You are paid to write, professionally, about music. As a job! Wow.

What’s a sufficiently old-time-y way to kill myself?

Fun with Commodification!

It disturbs me that "art" music has become so marginalized that it is frequently characterized as the cultural equivalent of other snobbish luxury goods. Really, many "classical" concerts, whether of music old or new, are more affordable than pop music concerts or sporting events. Honestly, art music has never been more accessible to anyone who is interested.

Still, the myth of the blue-haired widower climbing out of her troika to see the symphony persists. She is a relic; she probably likes fancy food and wine that only she can afford. Only true, rich connoisseurs could appreciate the pairing of food and wine! Or music and wine! Or music and food! (And, perhaps, wine? Only rich fucking nerds like wine. And classical music.)

Yet more disturbing, here, is the wholesale assimilation of "low" culture (read: the Midwest) in the service of said commodification of music. Squeee! Whoever thought this up...I...I have no words. Oh, wait...yes I do!

Dvorak BBQ Sauce

I can already tell this is going to be awesome.

Although we can’t be absolutely sure,

Conjecture. Spectacular. Conjecture is a splendid reason for doing what you're about to do.

it’s likely that during his three-year stay in the United States (1892-95) — and especially during the summer months he spent in the rural community of Spillville, Iowa

So, so rural. Wow. Those hayseeds! Okay, in fairness, it is pretty rural. But the sentence above stinks of derision...

— Czech composer Antonín Dvorák experienced the irresistible smells and flavors of a real American barbeque.

...the tangy derision of barbeque!

And as you listen, for instance, to his “American” quartet,

I think you mean his String Quartet No. 12 in F, Op. 96 (1893), sometimes referred to as "America" or "American." Nice faux-scholarship.

sketched out on one of those visits to the American heartland, can’t you just imagine

Guh. This is going to be good, right?...

that some of those pungent/sweet/spicy/rich-flavored musical sounds may have been inspired by the multi-layered, sensuous experience of perfectly seasoned beef grilled over hot, smoky coals?

...or: worse than I imagined! My favorite musical sounds are totally pungent/sweet/spicy, and also, rich-flavored! Certainly not richly flavored. Adverbs are so rural.

Well, whether you can or not,

I totally can. Once I was writing a piece for class, and I smelled some barbeque, and I totally changed an F to an F#. Spicy! Rich-flavored!

this recipe is a natural compliment to Dvorak's universally appealing music

First: what? Second: This dude is some sort of musical/culinary synaesthete. Third, in re: the clause "universally appealing"...you may want to ask around.

— and the inclusion of Czech beer is no accident! —

This is so clever I threw up on myself.

inspired by the desire for a quick, uniquely-flavored but not overpowering sauce

Not overpowering--like Dvorak?

for grilled beef (although it will happily serve to enhance other kinds of meat as well).

I chose not to reproduce the recipe. If you are really curious you can follow the link. Suffice to say that, in Texas, they shoot you if your sauce has ketchup in it.
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