Post hoc ergo propter hoc - Great Music Edition, Part I

I apologize in advance for the mess that follows. It is, first, very long. After many times reading this article, I felt it necessary to include all of his words. So as a result, I have also decided to split this particular Detrital breakdown into two parts. And it is, second, absolutely crazy.

That music, starting in the 20th century, would cease to try and appeal to the average Johnny-Concert-Goer has been a consistent bee in the bonnets of music lovers everywhere. However, most of these objections always require someone else to adapt their musical tastes, and surprisingly, always to the tastes of person making the objection.

It's been my contention on this blog many times that this problem primarily arises from a phenomenon in adults that they just don't want to learn anything new. Remember the whole flap over Pluto losing its status as a planet? How dare "scientists" refine definitions and introduce blasphemous ideas like dwarf planets and Kuiper Belt objects. There were 9 planets when I was born, and there will be 9 when I die. Harrumph.

Well, once again, I have stumbled across a gentlemen who just happens to find fault with looking at music for reasons other than to determine whether we "just like" a given a piece of music. Under the guise of asking the actually interesting question of whether film music is great music, he seeks to undermine, through a series of logical fallacies (each one more fun than the last), the academic establishment.

Now, academia is certainly not above reproach, but it is above the inane arguments made in the following editorial. Enjoy.

Guest Editorial: Is Film Music Great?
John Graham, Film Music Magazine, September 8, 2010

An excellent question. I've had this debate many a times, and needless to say, it's a question complicated by the fact that concert music and film music serve two entirely different functions. But I look forward to your thoughts on the subject.

Where Does Great Music Come From?

An interesting place to start. Where does great music come from? I'm guessing from the top of a very tall mountain.

I bet on music written for an audience, paid for by someone else.

Didn't I already cover this before? But fine, I'll bite. Why would you bet that way?

Arm’s length transactions, I believe, have generated the best results historically.

The best! Well, I'm a fan of the best. So surely you and I are certain to agree on this point.

Oh, how did you determine which art was the best? Nevermind, you have the floor.

Art-for-money has brought us Shakespeare, Tchaikovsky, Beethoven, Bach, Fielding, Raphael, Rembrandt, Dickens. All worked for money, whether for single patrons or a broader, paying audience.

I got it. So, Beethoven was a composer because the pay was good?

But you're right, money can be exchanged for goods and services. One might even point out that everyone does something for money. But I'm sure that would be missing your point entirely.

Shakespeare wrote plays for money, which made him write better plays than he would have normally written. Right? Because, without the promise of money the creative spirit is stifled.

All suffered through the petty vexations of commerce:

One of the most important aspects of great art.

whims of patrons; popular enthusiasms; losing a coveted job to charming or “connected,” but less-able rivals; and the scramble for good players and nice venues at a reasonable cost.

The "debtors" movement of Brahms' Fourth Symphony gets me every time.

But I'm a bit confused...does a composer simply have to produce his art under the promise of money, or does he need to be poor as well, desperately needing the money to survive?

A few great creators were rich, or at least were born into enough money that their financial worries were eased for some part of their lives – Richard Strauss, Alban Berg, Tolstoy. But not too many.

So you can be rich, but it doesn't help. Got it.

As the Bible says, it's easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to write a good piece of music.

So, while allowing for important exceptions, for the most part, the artists of the past whose work has lasted beyond their lifetimes worked for money.

Well spoken, sir. There aren't holes in that logic. As they say, post hoc ergo propter hoc.

This definition of money-for-music captures Beethoven, Mozart & co., but also includes Gershwin, John Williams, Waxman, Zimmer et alia, Rogers and Hart, The Beatles, Eminem, Lady Gaga, Snoop – whatever.

Whatever? It's your list, why get snippy?

Also, did you know that the rooster's crow makes the sun rise?

I think there’s a reason why each of them has been called “a genius” by various composers at various times.

You think there's a reason? Would you like to venture a guess?

Sure, there’s plenty of popular rubbish out there that will not Stand The Test Of Time,...

Whoa...slow down a minute. Where did this "Stand the Test of [by the way, we don't capitalize prepositions here at the Detritus] Time" standard come from? I thought you said all great art was the result of pay-for-service.

So, how do you determine which pay-for-service music has (or will) Stand the Test of Time, and isn't just popular rubbish? Clearly, there is a now a third criterion needed to separate out those pieces of music that were written for money, but won't stand the test of time.

...but I will be very surprised if the art that does meet that test fails an essential measure:

Excellent, some carefully refined definitions and qualified remarks will bring clarity to this discussion on where great art comes from.

So, music that was written for money, but won't stand the test of time is missing what?

That many people simply want to hear it (or to view it, or to read it) without being motivated by something beyond seeking diversion, curiosity about the thing itself, or “just liking” it.

Wow, couldn't have put it better myself. Great music (and art) should be nothing more than a popular diversion that I "just lik[e]".

When you say "I", is that the universal I?

In other words, people take an interest not primarily because they have to write a paper on it or need a dissertation topic, and certainly not because its greatness only becomes apparent in the pages of an analytical explication, but because it gives pleasure.

Exactly. No analytical explications. Music is either just good or bad, it either gives pleasure or it doesn't. And there is no explicating this...at all.

And most importantly, don't try to understand. Because if you tried to understand a piece of music, you would sap it of all it's mystical pleasure-giving powers.

The details of how great art is actually generated – how the artist zeroes in on the set of ideas, craft elements, and feelings that actually produce something personal and unique and fresh and “forward” – I think that varies but, however it comes about, I think nothing lasts in the long run without the ability to provoke the reaction, “I like it” in an intelligent but unindoctrinated audience.

Didn't the Word paperclip dude warn you about run-on sentences?

And, where did this "intelligent but unindoctrinated audience" criterion come from? What about us stupid people? Do our opinions not count?

That seems unfair, because I'm pretty good about not liking a piece the first time I hear it, and I've always figured it was because the piece sucks (and that it was obviously composed for analytical explications in dissertations -- i.e. Debbie Gibson's "Shake Your Love").

But you said something about these intelligent people not being indoctrinated? Wait a minute...who writes dissertations, explicates things analytical, and is brainwashed...?

You're talking about academics, aren't you?! Fucking academics. Socialists, that's what they are.

Do Motivations Matter?

Huh? What happened to the socialists?

Despite the fact that some might consider the motivations and goals of the artists as an important measure of whether a work of art could be considered great, I am sceptical about including the artist’s motivation as an important measure.

Oh yeah, what makes a piece of music great art? Any specific reason you're dismissing a composer's motivation, or are you just proving your status as anti-academic?

It doesn’t matter to me (except out of idle curiosity) what the purpose of the writing is, whether it’s a lofty goal or, by contrast, a desire to impress a girlfriend / boyfriend, trying to make money,...

Wait? So it doesn't matter whether someone is "trying to make money" so long as they composed the piece for money? Interesting.

...escaping a soul-destroying job alternative,...

[To compose or teach high school marching band? Hmmm...]

...rivalry with other composers / band-mates, seeking everlasting greatness, or sheer vanity.

But they have to have composed the piece for someone else who paid them, right?

And that’s because it’s hard to discern motivation, even if one sifts through letters and other documents from an artist’s life produced contemporaneously with the work.

What if the composer is alive and tells you his motivation?

Motivations slip easily away from view, even from the artist himself.

Good point. All that context would just get in the way of "just liking" the piece.

Although seeking money almost certainly stimulated a large part of the past’s artistic output, most of the time, for most composers, the impulse to sit down and write something is hard to capture in words.

I think saying they did it for money is a pretty clear.

On the other side of the transaction, I don’t think it matters what the motivations are of those paying (up to a point). Teenagers wanting to dance, trying to seduce or impress someone, an impresario / producer trying to make money, or just fun. Each of these has produced great art, and each has produced a good bit of forgettable work.

Teenagers wanting to dance have commissioned great art? Is that accurate? Or would it more accurate to say that a composer/songwriter wanting to create music for teenagers to dance to led to some great art (and also piles and piles of shitty music)?

So I argue that, whatever the specific notion in the artist’s or consumer’s mind at the time – the motives of the buyer and seller are so hard to pinpoint and may be so various and contradictory, that I believe focus on them obscures rather than illuminates the work itself.

But the exchange of money isn't hard to pinpoint, and isn't contradictory. Therefore, the motives are pure. Just like paying a prostitute, or buying subprime mortgage-backed securities.

While it’s certainly interesting to the curious, we don’t really need to know the motivation in order to love the work, because we have the work itself, which, when it’s as dazzlingly attractive as Beethoven or Shakespeare, speaks for itself.

Does it matter who paid for the music? I mean, what if a bunch of teenagers looking to dance commissioned Beethoven and he gave them the Grosse Fuge? I doubt the teenagers would have been pleased. So Beethoven, while having been paid for the music, failed miserably at creating effective music for teenage dance.

Also, should we concern ourselves with how much they got paid?

Where Doesn’t Great Art Come From?

Good question. I say France. Although, what does this question have to do with "just liking" a piece of music?

These days, many papers and books are being written in academe about popular music.

I know. Socialist assholes. Wait, we hate these papers and books, right?

And from time to time in the past, music departments have included composers in residence – Schoenberg being a conspicuous example.

A conspicuous example of an academic book written about popular music?

Do your first two sentences have anything to do with each other?

But even allowing for exceptions, and perhaps a growing change in mood that may eventually alter the situation, over time, in effect if not by intention, the academic world has been content to navigate almost completely unmoored from engaging the majority of paid, living composers and their work.

Fuck. You're starting to lose me. Money makes music good, I get that. But academia doesn't engage most living composers? I guess that's true in the technical sense. Do they engage the majority of paid, dead composers?

Do you have any idea how many composers there are? And just how many shitty composers are out there? You work in the film industry, so you surely you must.

And what does this have to do with where great art comes or doesn't come from?

Some of the reasons for that are of course understandable. A large proportion of media music is artistically unambitious, for a start.

I thought your point was that we shouldn't care about whether a piece is ambitious, but just whether we like the piece.

In addition, the academic hot-house has always given shelter to those whose creations are interesting, if not widely understood or popular. That’s fine and that’s part of the role, as I see it, of universities.

I'm glad you approve. I was afraid you were going to accuse them of validating music that, by your measures, only exists to be analytically explicated in dissertations to be read by other academics, and that no one actually "just likes" it.

On the other hand, if all of that work, or nearly all, requires shelter from the storm, is it because it’s all great but misunderstood?

"Storm"? Does it logically follow that if universities like interesting, if not widely understood music, then those universities must surely be sheltering it from criticism? Are you just a bit anxious to hate on this music?

Or is it the Emperor’s new clothes, with some of those composers seeking academic harbors because they shun any risk of having their music validated or rejected by the outside world, by shepherding into channels that will expose their work only to those who are going to accept it?

That's exactly it. It's an elaborate plan hatched by terrible composers who spend their entire lives becoming experts in music, who unfortunately write music that no one likes. Then, in conjunction with other terrible composers, pretend together under the guise of academia that their music is good, which they keep hidden away in a self-insulated society.

I'm sure that they'll be upset that you've uncovered their evil plot to fill the world with music that should never have existed in the first place.

Fucking academics always lying about "great" music. I fucking hate those guys!

Part of the relentless history of condescension (or at least neglect) of music-for-hire...

Are you suggesting that academics don't study Beethoven? Or Mozart? Who both, previously established, wrote music-for-hire.

...by the insular elite stems, I believe, from a conflation of, on the one hand, money and popularity with, on the other hand, the low-brow and bourgeois.

That sentence had 6 commas (not used as part of a series). On the one hand, it's impressive, but on the other hand, it's very confusing.

Put differently,...

With fewer commas...

...this line adopts the supposition that anything written for money and served to a mass audience automatically is disqualified from a “serious” musician’s consideration.

Except the examples you gave at the beginning of your editorial, of course.

And it’s of course fair to ask whether anything that’s popular among the masses could be considered “great.”

That is a fair question. But I swear you already answer this, again, when you pointed out that great composers like Mozart and Beethoven wrote music for money. And I think most of us, including those piece-of-shit academics, would agree that they wrote some very popular music, much of which is widely considered great.

But enough of this insinuation...let's get to the question you're dying to ask.

What Do We Get from the Experts?

What? No scare quotes around "experts"?

Whether or not, however, mass art can produce or is producing art worthy of the name, as I look around, I don’t see the world festooned with Great Art jetting forth from the academic world, or from the cartloads of art paid for by well-meaning organizations that are supporting arts that can’t support themselves (in other words, government-grant art / music / literature).

So many things wrong with this (very long) sentence. But let's wait and see where you're going with this.

Not that there couldn’t be some great, or potentially great composers in academe; undoubtedly there are.

Why back down? You're right, academia is only a place of shitty music protected from the unindoctrinated masses just waiting for a chance to shout it down.

But what audience are they getting?

That sounds like it might take facts and some unbiased research. Fuck that. Let's just say none. Cool?

How many players do they get?

Only the students forced to play on these concerts with no audiences.

A handful of soloists and recorded or electronic sound sources can produce some intriguing music, but it’s born amid departmental academic expectations and, often, constrained further by budget to minimal resources.

I don't know what this means, but yeah?

In those straits, I am not sure how the natural impulse to compose can escape being mangled, or how, even if it fights through, we will ever hear of the work.

So budgetary constraints of the university system mangle compositional impulses, but those budgetary constraints that require one to sell their music to the highest bidder encourage creativity?

While there is certainly a lot of energy in the academic world directed at topics that formerly would have been off-limits, study of, criticism of, and research into music remains burdened by the legacy of a clutch of false premises still echoed in know-it-all circles generally:

Wow, you really are an expert on the academic music world. Elucidate us to the many failings of the academic world.

1. That only professors or “those qualified” are able authoritatively to identify, dissect, and specify genius;

Ah, there are the scare quotes. Fucking people who like to read and shit. Fuck those guys and their "qualifications". Yep, it's nothing but the "Dr." Laura's of the world for me.

And really, you're right, why would one rely on "experts" to help us determine hard to qualify matters? I think any shitkicker with a degree from Arizona State can identify, dissect and specify musical genius. And that's what really matters anyway.

2. The popularity of a work renders it automatically suspect and reveals it to be dangerously lacking in requisite musical rigour;

You so know academics. They all hate Beethoven. Hate him. And musicologists hate studying popular and indigenous musics.

And what do they love? Stockhausen. That's why there are just so many books about Darmstadt, and only a handful of movies and documentaries about Beethoven. If only they could hide their biases better.

3. Academics and the otherwise-degree’d are not susceptible to vogues, fads, and trendiness;

Seriously, why can't academics be more fickle in their tastes? Wishy-washy is how I like all my experts.

I must say, this is a pretty good list so far.

4. That great composers in the olden days – Bach etc. – were higher-minded, devoted purely to the Pursuit of Art, possessed only well-justified (if sometimes large) egos, were exempt from petty rivalries and fame-seeking, and generated Great Works unsullied by pursuit of girls, free drinks, a cushy place to work, and so on;

Again, you sooooo know academics. They absolutely hate knowing anything about a composer's life or those pesky primary sources. Hell, we used to burn letters and original documents in class on a weekly basis. They were taking up too much room in the school's library.

5. That the analyse-able elements of music – form and symmetry, or scale systems or other mathematical elements, or sociological significance – offer insight into why the pieces are enjoyable or interesting to us or, at least, make the piece “valid;” and

And of course, they don't. Music is something you feel, not something that gets written down on paper in a manner that must be construed and understood by another person for the purpose of performance. Nor is it to be understood within the context of the culture from which it arises. Culture-smulture.

6. That merely emotional music / art / literature, however powerfully loved (Dickens, Tchaikovsky being two examples), while it must be tolerated, is in actual fact beneath the notice of serious academics.

Based on the completely reasonable nature of all of your conclusions, I can only assume that you've done a diligent study of the opinions of a healthy representation of serious academics. No need to include any data or quotes to support your thesis. We trust you.

Plus, I'm sure that Dickens and Tchaikovsky appreciate your appraisal that there's nothing else to their literature/music other than emotion. No wit, no skill, no form, just emotion.

And I base my case against the legacy of critics, academe and their impact on the arts not just on these arguments, but on their results, which in my opinion have been totally disastrous.

Okay, I lied. I need an example.

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Be sure to tune in next time for another exciting adventure of me, Gustav and my stalwart manservant Argyle.

Orchestra Bravely Stands up to Fascism

Happy Labor Day! What have we here?

Classical music review: In opener, Fort Worth Symphony Orchestra shows why baroque festivals are rare
Lawson Taitte, Dallas Morning News, 10/27/2010

While the usual title-writing caveats apply, the titular assertion is just untrue. Utilizing the time-intensive, rigorous methodology known as Spending Five Fucking Seconds on A Google Search, I turned up this list.

Now, clearly, those are not all strictly baroque festivals, but the broader point made below about the Scary Jackbooted Demons of Historically Informed Performance Practice apply.

But I’m getting ahead of the argument.

Symphony orchestras are baffled by the baroque these days.

Are they now?

Specialists in historically informed performance have changed the rules about how to interpret music of the period.

Those academic fascists! Why would anyone even attempt to figure out how music three centuries old might have sounded back then? Why, they think they’re better than us [sic]!

Figure 1: What the hell is that thing? I don't care what instrument it was written for. Just play it on something I can recognize, you elitist!

Most regular orchestras have just given up.

Yes; you’re right. No one ever programs Bach or Vivaldi. Or Handel. Ever.

So give the Fort Worth Symphony Orchestra credit for bravery in scheduling a three-night baroque festival this weekend – 20 works by 15 composers, two of them anonymous.

Sure, I guess. Credit for you, FWSO! Way to play music written by dead white men! No one could have seen that coming.

I don’t know about bravery, though; if they do it wrong will the HIP Secret Police show up and disappear the entire string section?

Friday's opening revealed some of the issues that make such programs rarities.

Except for the part where I Googled up a bunch of early music festivals.

The Overture to Bach's Orchestral Suite No. 3 launched the festival with a performance that was accurate but lifeless.

Ah, actual music criticism! That tastes far better than speculation-slander.

In the three concertos followed, the orchestra seemed to have been coached merely to stay out of the soloists' way.

Memo

To: Dallas Morning News Editorial Department
From: Sator Arepo
Subject: Copy editing

Sirs and/or Ladies,

Your copy editor seems to have absconded. Please replace him at once. Thank you.

That's especially deadly in Vivaldi.

For reasons that are unclear, obvious enough to warrant an utter lack of elucidation, or shall remain arcane for mischievous reasons?

Kevin Hall played one of the Red Priest's 39 bassoon concertos with amazing suavity but little inflection.

Which would have been covered up if the orchestra had played better? Or so I infer.

Bach's Concerto for Two Violins fared better, though soloists Swang Lin and Alexandra Jennings Flanagan had different ideas about phrasing. (He favored greater articulation but a cloying vibrato; she dug in and got a darker, richer sound.)

That sounds like it might be cool, actually. It’s a fair critique, however, and merits mention in a music review, even if it does nothing to elaborate on the impending death sentences (presumably carried out by HIP Black Ops squads) that the orchestra and conductor have brought upon themselves.

Figure 2: Fetch...the hurdy-gurdy!

After intermission, Jennifer Corning Lucio played the famous Alessandro Marcello Oboe Concerto with passion and finesse – easily the highlight of the concert.

(This is merely editorial, but that is one boring-ass piece.)

In the highly decorated slow movement, Lucio proved once and for all that stylistic outlook isn't nearly as important as having something to say about the music.

Demonstrated? Made a case for? Expressed? No? “[P]roved once and for all…”?

Well, I guess we won’t ever be hearing about that issue again. I’ll be sure to email all of the other music critics, performers, and conductors and let them know.

The orchestra only came into its own when both conductors, Miguel Harth-Bedoya and Andres Franco (who had subbed in the Bach Double), left the stage. The violinists stood as the orchestra played the Pachelbel Canon and Gigue without a front man.

Well, that's certain...wait.

What?

Did you attend a fucking wedding? Cripes. If I ever go to a baroque-themed orchestra concert and they play that stale, tired-ass piece, I’ll have to be forcibly restrained from committing ritual seppuku.

Figure 3: Don't make me come in there.

Harth-Bedoya returned for movements from Handel's Water Music.

A special treat! Because one never, ever, ever hears that programmed. Kudos once more to the brave folks at the FWSO for reaching deep into the baroque catalog and finding a hidden gem!

Here, at last, he seemed to care about the piece as he let the orchestra rip, with superb French horns and woodwinds.

The implication is that he didn’t care about the other baroque pieces because his enjoyment of programming and performing them has been stolen by the Mean Old Musicologists.

The Overture didn't quite capture the true Handelian swagger, but by the end the entire band was off its leash and sprinting toward the finish line.

...aaand close with a mixed metaphor. Cut! Print!

Symphony is the Most Anti-Symphonic Symphony Ever

Critics are often at a loss of words when they encounter a new piece of music. And as a result, they tend to make some strange proclamations and use some peculiar logic in pursuit of making some profound point. It is, of course, mostly well-intentioned, as is the case with the example below, but they still make for some truly head-scratching moments.

EIF Reviews: Scottish Chamber Orchestra
Michael Tumelty, The Herald Scotland, Aug. 30, 2010

On reflection, having heard the world premiere last night of Kevin Volans’s symphony, Here Comes the Alabama, if the composer made one tactical error...

Tactical error, huh? Calling a piece of music a symphony involves strategy?

So, what was his error?

...it was in calling his new work a symphony.

Wow, that was a blunder. I mean, I just heard the piece existed, and I'm already just so angry at the "symphony".

Wait, what?

It was probably the most anti-symphonic symphony I have heard.

So...it wasn't played by an orchestra?

I'm confused...perhaps my understanding of a "symphony" as a large scale instrumental composition, traditionally in 3 or more movements is mistaken.

Why was his piece the anti-symphony symphony?

It was neither pictorial nor descriptive.

Hmmm...I see.

There was no narrative, no drama and no tension.

Wow. Are you sure this was even actually a piece of music?

So what then was there?

So what was there, and what was the piece?

Yeah, I just said that.

It’s almost impossible to encapsulate in words...

Well, don't sell yourself short -- you did tell us all the things this piece wasn't. That's at least something.

It’s almost impossible to encapsulate in words the bewitching and beguiling stillness of the span of this exquisite 20-minute creation.

The piece was exquisite -- I'm glad to hear that. But it's sad really, knowing the piece could have been so much more effective if only he had not called it a symphony.

In any case, it sounds like we're starting to get a picture...wait, no...a description...damn...an idea of what this piece really is...formally speaking.

The piece was bewitching and beguiling still. Which are not traits of a symphony?

It was like an abstract reflection.

Ah, well this would make at least some sense with the piece not being pictorial or descriptive, nor having a narrative. But surely it must be reflecting something, and something would have to be...you know, some thing.

It was like a thought that lingered.

I think you made the tactical error of trying to describe this piece, because I don't know what you're talking about. Do you not think your thoughts in images and words? Well, unless you're talking about the Nothing.

figure neverending story: Jesus made many other wishes, and had many other amazing adventures - before he finally returned to the ordinary world. But that's... another story.

How about we get away from these philosophical musings. Let's get down to the brass tacks, let's talk about the actual music. What did it sound like?

There was a whirring sound...

A whirring sound?

Er...um...?

...to the music, a ticking and a gentle pulsing.

A whirring and a ticking!? Well, why didn't you just say so up front...of course this isn't a symphony. Pssh, no self-respecting symphony would have both a whirring and a ticking.

Ooh. I wonder, did he get that instrument that goes "PING!"?

It seemed to revolve, like a mobile.

And yet you couldn't even see the strings holding it up? I think this piece is magic.

It shimmered; it was evocative but not impressionistic.

Interesting. It was evocative? But what did it evoke if not a picture, a description, a narrative, or at the very least, the hint of drama or tension?

Conductor Robin Ticciati and the SCO did a splendid job bringing it into gentle life.

Ah, the miracle of birth.

figure meaning of life: Patient: Is it a boy or a girl? Obstetrician: Now, I think it's a little early to start imposing roles on it, don't you?

And in the context of a programme that emphasised the starkly original, with Rebel’s Les Elemens, the hormonally exuberant, in Bizet’s Symphony in C, and the quirky, in Poulenc’s Concerto for Two Pianos, Volans’s symphony sat comfortably: an oasis of calm.

Hormonally exuberant?

figure excited: Bizet's Symphony in C(ocks)

Premise Falls Short, 7 Dead, 11 Injured

One of our favorite strategies, here at the DR, is to follow an opening premise to its end, to see if it actually pans out. In most cases, no, it doesn’t. And that’s what makes it funny.

So, in the spirit of tradition, let’s do just that, but abbreviated.

It’s tempting to call Vladimir Feltsman a madman.

Oh my gosh! An opening premise that presumably won’t pan out! Please, please, please tell us—so we can laugh at you—why is it tempting to call him a madman?

It’s crazy what he can do at the piano.

Oh. (sigh)

That’s what most of us would call virtuosic; but, then again, who are we to kiss the Oxford English Dictionary's ass? (And, by the way, screw you Webster! Stop calling.)

You expect the whole thing is going to come apart at the seams, that the elements holding the structure of the piece together are simply going to break apart, like a bridge compromised by a gale force wind.

If by “gale force” you mean Vladimir and by “bridge” you mean music, then no. You’re doing similes wrong, my friend. Bridges blown apart by gale force winds are poorly designed, which is not what you’re saying. Are you saying Chopin sucks. Are you? Didn’t think so.

Figure 1: The original orchestration of the First Piano Concerto 

For an encore, Feltsman offered the ever-popular Chopin Waltz in C-sharp Minor. As he finished the final run at the very top of the keyboard his hand kept going and he seemed to wave goodbye to the audience.

Cute.

Then he smiled – like a madman.

Get it? Because he smiled like a madman, thus ending another awesome DR deconstruction, er, destruction.
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Sadly, the Title Was Not Apt

Music review: Exotic chamber music opens Stowe festival
Jim Lowe, Barre-Montpelier Times Argus, August 20, 2010

Exotic? So, you mean something other than Beethoven and Mozart?

Trying something new and unusual isn't very American, plus I'm pretty sure that's how the country got overrun with all these communists. But, I'm game.

figure unusual: Sure, what the hell.

The Philharmonic Orchestra of the Americas is more than an excellent New York orchestra, it's an ensemble of fine individual instrumentalists.

Interesting. So you're hypothesizing that there is an excellent New York orchestra that isn't an ensemble of fine individual instrumentalists?

Rochester Philharmonic...I'm looking in your direction.

(Just kidding, of course, because everyone knows it's the Albany Symphony that is made up of a bunch of loafing, slack-jawed yokels.)

The Music Festival of the Americas at Stowe opened Wednesday at Topnotch Resort,...

Topnotch? That's a good name for a resort. Very good name. I wonder who's the ad wizard that came up with that one.

...with a chamber music concert that showcased members of the weeklong festival's resident orchestra – and some proved superb.

Others sadly didn't. I hope someone had the guts to put those poor musicians out of their misery.

The POA, led by Music Director Alondra de la Parra, is in-residence in Stowe for the week for Music Festival of Americas at Stowe.

Excellent. Show me some exotic music.

figure 19th century exoticism: The Exotic White Man

Maybe some little traveled Chinese classical music, or perhaps even the locally exotic musics of Harry Partch, for example?

Most impressive was a deeply felt and passionate performance of Shostakovich's String Quartet No. 7 in f-sharp minor, Opus 108.

Wait. I thought you said the program was exotic? Now, I've never been to Russia, so it's exotic to me, but...Shostakovich? A string quartet? With an opus number? Come on.

Violinists Daniel Andai and Brooke Quiggins Saulnier, violist Ryan Rump and cellist Benjamin Capps, all POA principals, played with an intimate sense of ensemble not often heard outside of a fulltime [sic] quartet.

figure vodka: Yes, it's Russian, but not terribly exotic. Wait...win a what?

Maybe this was just the warm up to the impending exoticism.

Andai is a particularly fine violinist with a keen musical sense and a rich, warm sound. (He is also on the faculty of Vermont's summer Killington Music Festival.) But,...

But?

...he was well-matched by the others in creating a compelling performance of this three-movement work that mixes the forlorn nature of the Soviet Union with a suppressed wit, even sarcasm.

Or maybe it was written in memory of his first wife, Nina, who had passed in 1954. But who am I to get in the way of preconceived notions of what all of Shostakovich's music must be about.

However, again, I must say that I am not impressed with the exotic credentials of a Shostakovich quartet. That's fairly ubiquitous fare as chamber music goes.

What else ya got?

Also fascinating and well-played was the String Quartet by Mexican contemporary composer Enrico Chapela (b. 1974).

Mexican... contemporary.... I like what I'm hearing. Although, when you think about it, Mexico is about as exotic as Canada. But whatever, it's not like it's distinctly American. Or even partly American...it's exotic.

figure not-that-exotic: It's Mexican-ish. Also, earn a jillion buckaroos!

The sunny work combines Latin themes...

To be expected...I suppose.

...and jazz flavors...

Hmmm..."Latin themes" and "jazz flavors"...this is beginning to sound slightly less exotic. But I'm sure that it mixes these popular elements with a unique, boldly exotic harmonic language

...with thoroughly modern but accessible harmonic language.

An "accessible harmonic language"? Hmmm...that sounds decidedly not exotic.

The performance by violinists Cecee Pantikian and Saulnier, violist Rump and cellist Maria Jeffers was passionate and exciting – and a crowd-pleaser.

Passionate? Well, I can see you're well-versed in Latin cliches? Was it also perhaps, hot and spicy?

The biggest crowd-pleaser,...

As your editor, I would suggest not using the phrase "crowd-pleaser" twice with in the space of four words. Just saying.

Carry on...exoticism of epic proportions must surely await us.

...though, were several “pop” selections by a brass quintet: trumpets Michael Gortham and Gabriel Dias, hornist Daniel Wions, trombonist Alexis Regazzi and tubist Justin Clarkson.

First of all, I am definitely a fan of the "unnecessary" use of quotation marks, but pop music is hardly exotic.

Am I beginning to repeat myself? I'm starting to think that we don't know what the word actually means, or I guess more accurately, have a very low threshold for what qualifies for exoticism.

A Spanish march and “Bess, You is My Woman” from Gershwin's “Porgy and Bess” were stylishly played, but it was a jazzy version of “Amazing Grace” that brought the house down.

I hate when that happens.

figure popular exoticism: Everybody was kung-fu fighting.

So after the strange and foreign musings of the brass quintet wrecked the stage, what happened next?

Conversely, an intimate and at times tender conversation between two violins was achieved in New York composer Kyle Saulnier's Duo.

New York composer...and I was beginning to think this concert wasn't all that exotic.

Brooke Quiggans Saulnier, the composer's wife, and Elizabeth Young, who also plays in the Vermont Symphony, played lyrically and warmly making this conversation charming and compelling.

Sounds compelling.

figure exotic?: Okay, this is a tough one.

What else was compelling?

Another compelling performance was of Argentinean composer...

Ah, Argentinean! Now we're getting somewhere

Also, what did I tell you about repeating word choices?

Also, also...Argentine composer? Or maybe Argentinian? Anywho, you were saying, compelling performance of Argentinean composer...

...Astor Piazzola's “Historia del Tango.”

Oh. Piazzola.

Harpist Kristi Shade's sensitive lyricism was beautifully contrasted by Nuno Antunes' jazzy clarinet in this fine sophisticated work.

I must say that I'm having a hard time hiding my disappointment.

But I guess I should remember our definition: exotic = something other than Mozart and Beethoven. So I guess it's not all bad.

Two traditional works were less successful.

Traditional? I could be wrong (but I'm not), but I'm fairly certain that traditional and "pop" just aren't the standard criterion for exotic.

However, I should thank you for bringing some common sense to all this "exoticism". I was beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable with all these new and strange musics.

Yep, some traditional values (i.e. something like Mozart and Beethoven, but clearly not them, since that would probably be too on the nose, as it were) sound pretty good right about now.

figure "go-around-the-person's-intellect": Where. Is. The. Crocoduck?

The playing in one movement of Mozart's Horn Quintet, K. 407, was rough but the spirit was there. The playing was fine in Beethoven's Serenade, Opus 25, for flute, violin and viola, but the music-making wasn't comfortable.

The music-making wasn't comfortable?

The "playing"...was fine. O-kay.

But, the "music-making" wasn't comfortable? ...

Damn. I thought I had it there for a moment. Maybe you can help explain?

These are busy musicians.

Good point? Busy makes music-making uncomfortable? So, out-of-work, lazy musicians (Albany musicians I assume) would logically make the most comfortable music, yes?

But, then we're left with a strange catch-22 -- if you hire these lazy musicians for their comfortable music-making abilities, they would cease to be apathetic and slothful, and therefore, more uncomfortable in their music-making.

And therefore, comfortable music-making only exists in theory. Kind of like absolute zero.

Whoa. I just totally blew my own mind with that one.

Tonight, the orchestra, conducted by de la Parra, will perform its staple Latin American classical music,...

Again, playing one's "staple" doesn't seem very exotic. I hate to harp on that one word choice, but you know, it's sort of (if not exceptionally) confusing.

...this time, Mexican works from its new Sony Classical album, “My Mexican Soul.”

I'll be the burrito-taster.

figure exotic: Kind of erotic too.

At Least the Title Was Apt

Orchestra Review
Judith White, The Saratogian, 8/12/2010

There was a degree of irony in the programming for Wednesday’s Philadelphia Orchestra concert at the Saratoga Performing Arts Center.

Mm-hm. Irony, you say? In the programming? Do tell.

The all-Gershwin program of American music began with the orchestra playing the well-known “An American in Paris,” and then moved on to feature French-born Jean-Yves Thibaudet as piano soloist with the orchestra for other Gershwin works, including the Piano Concerto in F and a set of variations to “I Got Rhythm,” all conducted by a Swiss-born, Montreal resident conductor.

I see. I don't know about the construction "Montreal resident conductor," but that's neither here nor there [in Montreal, apparently].

And the ironic part was...?

I’m certainly not complaining: just commenting on how things can work out with really good music — which transcends geography and culture.

Um. Let's back up, because, apparently, the ironic bit was in that last large paragraph.

The all-Gershwin program of American music began with the orchestra playing the well-known “An American in Paris,” and then moved on to feature French-born Jean-Yves Thibaudet as piano soloist with the orchestra for other Gershwin works, including the Piano Concerto in F and a set of variations to “I Got Rhythm,”...

Okay. An American orchestra was playing a Gershwin program, which, after "An American in Paris," featured a French pianist playing the Concerto in F. So...it's like there was a Parisian in America! Oh, except he's from Lyon. But still, he did go to the Paris Conservatoire!

So a Frenchman (who's been to Paris) in America! Playing "An American in Paris!" Er, well, no...actually playing the piece after that one on the program...which is sort of...a coincidence? But not irony.

...all conducted by a Swiss-born, Montreal resident conductor.

A Swiss-Canadian in Saratoga is sort of like an American in Paris, insofar as the sentences have parallel construction...which is ironic?

No. No, it's not.

The most ironic thing going on here is that something that's not really in any way ironic is being described as such.

We don’t require American interpreters of Gershwin’s compositions, no more than we require German interpreters of Brahms.

True, I suppose. We don't wear gigantic purple hats either, but it's not relevant, so we don't write sentences about it.

We got what we wanted...

Speak for yourself. I was led to believe there'd be irony.

— a brilliant pianist with a sensibility for Gershwin’s talent for rolling classical sensibility into the music of his time, and a conductor who literally threw himself into directing the music.

I guess I was really willing to be nice about this, but, sadly, no.

Because...look:

"Literally" does not mean "figuratively" or "metaphorically." Quite literally, "literally" literally means "literally."

Figure 1: Better.

Inflammable Means Flammable?

Figure 1: Calm down, sir, you're going to give yourself skin failure.

Kalmar channels wit and anger of Shostakovich
Bryant Manning, Chicago Sun-Times, 8/5/2010

Is the Shostakovich transitive? That is: is just the anger his, or the wit as well?

After a month of excellent guest conductors having seized the riches of the Grant Park Orchestra, principal conductor Carlos Kalmar returned in top form to the Pritzker pavilion Wednesday night.

After a month of...having seized? Man, the tense wars in Chicago must be worse than they say! The guest conductors siezed the riches...for a month, but now that's over? Where are the riches now? Do the erstwhile guest artists still have them? Will they ever give them back?

But this isn't about that.

The Uruguay-Austrian maestro was back for one of the season's most impressive concerts, which, at least during this summer season, might as well be repeated over and over again.

What? Why? Saying "might as well" makes it sound like you're grudgingly resigned to the possibility.

This isn't about that, either.

Yet Wednesday's offering truly showed the municipally funded, free outdoor concert at its best,

I am in favor of such endeavors; I hold them in esteem.

...where festival administrators paid tribute to Millennium Park's founders with a first-class program featuring the incomparable violinist Christian Tetzlaff.

Incomparable!

[but soon...]

While Tetzlaff is not the most lyrical violinist around, his playing can sing and serenade without the usual slick array of pretty notes.

Okay.

First, I don't know what that means. He didn't play any notes? Or just not any pretty ones? Perhaps it suggests that he played them, but not in the "usual array"? Did he, I don't know, change their order at random?

Second...well, look.

This "incomparable" performer isn't "the most lyrical violinist around"?

Even if "incomparable" means something metaphrorical, less like "not able to be compared to anything" and more like "benchmark by which all others are compared," how is he not the most anything?

Anything good, anyway. I suppose he could be both "incomparable" and "not the shittiest violinist around."

I am forced, then, to conclude one of two things:

Either Mr. Manning is not a fan of flashy, over-emotive performance styles, preferring instead an intellectual (and/or, apparently, quasi-improvisatory) approach; or "incomparable" doesn't mean what he thinks it means.

Figure 2: Thinly disguised oblique meta-reference

@!#?@! What in the hell is that "boing"?

What's the most important part of music review, you might ask? It's a good question. The who, what, when, where, or possibly the why?

Those things are nice, but they don't get to the heart of what it is to attend a classical music concert.

No, it's all about the setting and the mood. Bring the reader into the seat of the reviewer to experience the beauty and grandeur of watching an entire symphony orchestra in action.

Concert review: Conductor Jahja Ling impressive at RPO concert
Anna Reguero, Democrat and Chronicle, August 6, 2010

For future concerts, Rochester Philharmonic Orchestra might want to add to its pre-concert announcements.

Really? Why might they want to do that?

It could go something like this: Will all musicians please turn off any metronomes, tuning devices — and cell phones?

"Musicians," always leaving their metronomes running.

Priceless.

So, really, how about this impressive performance from Jahja Ling?

Guest conductor Jahja Ling had just cut off the orchestra for a large break in the second movement of Mozart's Piano Concerto No. 17 during Wednesday evening's concert at Hochstein.

Ah, the glorious K. 453 in G major, with the somewhat unusual sub-dominant slow movement. Lovely little concerto...

Ling's wife, pianist Jessie Chang, was about to begin her cadenza.

A husband and wife cast as conductor and soloist. Seemingly the perfect set up for a truly magical, and not at all unusual, evening.

Great set up...what happened next?

That's when a "boing" interrupted the silence.

A 'what' interrupted the silence?

And then another "boing."

A "boing"?

figure boing: Watch out for that snake!

And another.

What in the hell is a boing?

Its origin unknown,...

Sounds like aliens.

figure x-file: There's been another unsubstantiated UFO sighting in the heartland of America. We've got to get there right away.

...the audience scanned the hall to find the culprit. Was it a metronome? A timer?

I dunno. Maybe it was a violin dancing with a saxophone...

figure unexplained noise: Now, that's just silly.

In any case, I just can't wait to find out what happens next.

And what about the poor soloist for pity's sake!?

Chang kept her concentration and continued through her cadenza,...

Whew. A consummate professional, to say the least. Truly she is a hero to have kept her cool in such trying times.

...which showed off her light and sparkling touch, perfect for Mozart.

Who has time for a review of the performance at a time like this?

Get on with it, man. What of the mysterious "boing"?

By the end of her cadenza, the "boing" continued on.

The suspense is killing me.

So did the orchestra, ignoring the extraneous noise as they sailed into the work's final movement.

They're on a boat?

The ushers finally walked around the hall, trying to locate the noise.

Isn't always the extras who get killed first in these types of concerts?

That's when I noticed principal bassist Colin Corner...

@!#?@! It's always the bassist!

....shrugging and shooting worried looks at his stand partner. Could it be that the sound was coming from his case, sitting behind him on top of a spare piano on the side of Hochstein's stage?

figure bassist: "It grew louder -- louder -- louder! ...They heard! -- they suspected! -- they KNEW! -- they were making a mockery of my horror!"

Indeed.

"Villains!" he shrieked, "dissemble no more! I admit the deed! -- tear open my case! -- here, here! -- it is the boinging of his hideous heart!"

During a few measures of rest near the end of the concerto, Corner handed over his bass to go silence the "boing" song. It turns out it was an alert feature on his cell phone.

Well, that's rather anti-climactic.

Was it at least an alert feature of DOOM?

Rather than roast Corner, this mistake was likely because Hochstein does not have backstage space to keep instrument cases.

Ah, I guess that explains that. Everything's been wrapped up into a nice little package.

I'm glad that's over with. So, onto the concert.

At the Eastman Theatre, the musicians have both a downstairs green room and space behind the stage shell for storage.

I see. [Looks at watch.]

Any cell phones to ring in cases and bags would not be heard on stage.

Really? They wouldn't be heard on stage at the Eastman Theatre?

Valiantly, Ling — for whom this performance was a possible audition for the music director opening (he's currently music director of the San Diego Symphony) — didn't flinch and continued to steer the orchestra confidently.

Not just a guest conductor, but an audition to become the new music director of this ensemble? And you wrote about boings?! @!#?@!, indeed.

He had great chemistry with Chang.

Really? He had great chemistry with his wife?

When Chang's first entrance moved a little more swiftly than the orchestra, Ling immediately looked back at her to adjust.

Well, recovering from a "boing" of this magnitude is sure to leave at least a few scars.

She adjusted, too. They were a great pair.

What was she playing again?

Ling's chemistry with the orchestra was also noticeable.

Noticeable? Do you think he's cheating with the viola section?

Though he lacks the graceful arm movements and posture of some of the other candidates, he has a friendly and encouraging presence on stage.

Well, you know, grace is a tough one. You either have grace or you don't. Grace isn't something you can pick up at the market.

He blazed through Mozart's Overture to The Marriage of Figaro and also conducted a high voltage version,...

So, over 600 V?

...if not overly so, of Dvorak's Symphony No. 8 without a score after intermission.

Did he blaze through the Mozart the way you blazed through the meaningful part of this review?

The musicians let their opinions be known by sitting when asked to stand during the multiple ovations at the concert's end to direct the applause at Ling.

embeddence awesome: Is it just me, or does Q*bert have a legitimate case against the Snorks for copyright infringement?

Just in case you hadn't read the original review yet, of the 12 paragraphs (newspaper paragraphs), 8 were about the "boing". Eight.

@!#?@!

Brahms Concerto Assulted; Charges Pending

Concert review: Encore undercuts Brahms at Bowdoin
Christopher Hyde, Portland Press Herald, 7/20/2010

An encore at the end of a [classical] music concert isn’t that rare, especially when a soloist is involved. In this case—indeed, in most cases nowadays—“encore” means “more stuff!” instead of “again!” This is widely regarded by the paying concert-attending public as something between More Art-Stuff for My Money = Value! and A Gift from the Artist to the Audience.

Not all encores, of course, are good, or well-performed, or well-composed, or even in good taste. However, never, in my experience, has anyone complained about an encore as such.

Young violinist Ray Chen, one of the new class of virtuosi at the Bowdoin International Music Festival, drove a stake through the heart of a brilliant performance of the Brahms Violin Concerto in D Major (Op. 77) at Crooker Theater on Friday…

He drove a stake through the heart…of a performance…of the concerto? Really? Or is it just Overwrought Prose Day in the Maine newspaper community?

…by choosing to play an encore.

Yeah. First, being a “young” artist [of unspecified age], he probably didn’t “choose” to play jack shit. Second, what the fuck is your problem?

Chen may be too young to know better,

But not, I take it, too young to be publicly excoriated for it. In the Springfield Shopper. I mean Portland Press Herald. Whatever.

Figure 1: Journamalism.

…but I felt sorry for festival co-founder Lewis Kaplan, who conducted orchestra and soloist in one of the outstanding performances in the festival's history.

An historic moment: the 35,457,221th performance of the Brahms concerto. And pity the poor festival organizer/conductor, who probably absolutely had no hand in the planning and execution of an encore showpiece to showcase his featured young artist.

All of a sudden it seems like Bowdoin isn’t about the critics anymore. What happened, man?

There are all kinds of reasons not to play an encore after any concerto,

Not really. This is a made-up objection articulated by means of a weak appeal to an unnamed authority.

There is, however, a long-standing tradition of critics not reviewing or completely ignoring encores which has been tossed out the window here.

…but after the Brahms, one of the towering masterpieces of Western civilization, it is little short of sacrilege.

This comes across like a supply-sider jerking off while writing about the awesome power and fragility of the free market. “It’s huge and powerful and towering and majestic and awesome—but don’t touch it! It breaks easily!”

Brahms has withstood worse injustices than suffering through an encore by some prodigious young artist at a summer music festival concert. For fuck’s sake; what are we even talking about?

The work is a unity.

Yikes. I hope you have your Schenker diagrams ready to prove that shit. Also, how’s that discredited, anachronistic, 19^th-century faux-organicist teleological view of art working out for you? Good?

It should send the audience home with a feeling of awe, perhaps a little euphoria, and fond memories.

Also nostalgia, a unicorn, and full employment. Since when is it the critic’s job to assert what you should be feeling when you go home after hearing a particular piece? That’s some Palin-esque batshittery right there.

Figure 2: Palin 2012.

To puncture that mood with anything gratuitous -- like the Bach andante for unaccompanied violin that Chen played –

Yes, showy-ass Bach and his unaccompanied andante [sic]. Talk about empty showpieces!

While researching this article, I happened upon this great thread (at violinist.com) discussing Joshua Bell’s recent practice of playing Vieutemps' set of variations on “Yankee Doodle” (Variations burlesques sur "Yankee Doodle", op. 17)…after performing the Brahms concerto (among other pieces). Most of their commentariat (made up, one surmises, mostly of violinists) are fine with it, and with encores after concerti in general.

So what are we on about again?

…no matter how good, calls into question the musicality and even the integrity of the performer.

Oh jesus shit. Says you.

Does he consider Brahms merely a vehicle to show off?

Brahms is dead, and his concerto is solidly ensconced in the canon. What are you whining about? Who are you trying to protect? Because your protestations are about as weak as your rhetoric, and it’s kind of sad.

Chen is better than that.

We think? You assert? Was it on his website? Press release? Over lunch?

He seemed to have a feeling for the music and its intimate orchestration, blending the timbre of the violin with the French horns in a way I had not heard before.

Seeming to have a feeling, as reported secondhand, is like blowing your nose in a lace doily.

Figure 3: Decorative, or effective? Mmm, yeah.

His double-stop work sounded like two equally angelic voices, his tone was the acme of purity…

Ooh aah ohh gush overcompensate-for-criticism blah blah squee!

…and his dynamics were the way Brahms wrote them.

That…no. That is a terrible ending to a bad sentence.

After the final cadenza, he should have quit while he was ahead.

After the last cadenza…he should have stopped playing before the piece was over? I guess that’d make a great, if vague, political statement of some kind. Or something.

It may be objected that the first work on the program, the Beethoven String Quartet No. 9 in C Major, Op. 59, No. 3 ("Rasoumovsky"), included what might be considered an encore by the Ying Quartet. It was not an encore at all but a recapitulation of (part of) the exciting final movement, actually reinforcing the impression of the whole.

No.

That’s exactly what an encore is. It’s “more.”

Furthermore: that’s a bunch of bullshit and you know it. Oh, but it’s okay, because it wasn’t after a concerto, specifically the Brahms concerto, which is such a powerful, towering monument of Western civilization that it has all of the constitutional integrity of a syphilitic mayfly.

So spare me. Or better: kill me now, but spare the Brahms concerto! It's too young to die!