Archive for December, 2009

4-3-2-1…

Thursday, December 31st, 2009

Gearing up for what should be an epic New Year’s Eve (which I’ll – hopefully – post about tomorrow):

In the meantime, a few musings on 2009:

It’s been a tumultuous year, by all accounts, and there have certainly been casualties of these troubled financial times (although one could argue that the Honolulu Symphony was in terminal condition long before the current state of the world).

Tough times force a certain amount of navel-gazing; the danger in this is the possibility of becoming stuck in pensiveness, without the possibility of action. In a year predicated on the overarching notion of Change (yup, with a capital “C”), it’s encouraging to see that some major organizations have taken some actual bold steps, particularly in choosing artistic leaders; Alan Gilbert began his stint at the helm of the New York Philharmonic, weeks before the Los Angeles Philharmonic welcomed Gustavo Dudamel as its new music director.

Gilbert seems both an unusual choice (a young American less-known in his home country) and a natural fit (as the son of NY Phil musicians) – an interesting direction for a conservative organization that nonetheless seems to concede to the need for a larger cultural relevancy (witness the choice of Alec Baldwin as its radio host). On the opposite coast, the Dudamel PR juggernaut is motoring at full throttle, drumming up the kind of buzz of which other orchestras can only dream. “The Dude’s” charisma is unquestionable; whether it will translate into artistic fulfillment or increased ticket sales, only time will tell.

And speaking of new appointments and charisma, that of Yo-Yo Ma as “creative consultant” to the Chicago Symphony is one that has me very interested. It’s the kind of outside-the-box thinking – utilizing talent in an unconventional manner – that signals some of the most exciting development in the orchestral field.

But it wasn’t the year for change – or choice – for everyone; the Philadelphia Orchestra is still rudderless, heightening concerns about one of the most beleaguered of the “Big Five” (which reminds me, how do we rank orchestras these days, anyway?).

On the personal front, change came in the form of two new jobs and moving my household to Minneapolis, all of which has been simultaneously challenging and enormously satisfying.

On the Inside the Classics front, Sam and I are busy preparing for the next set of concerts (La Mer! I’ve been looking forward to this one…) while, thanks to result reports from Wallace Foundation-funded focus group studies, we continue to reevaluate and tinker with format and content for upcoming seasons. As much as I like change – as I’ve frequently said, my favorite quote = “If you don’t like change, you’ll like irrelevance even less” – there are some constants I’ve come to rely on, like a co-host/co-writer/cohort whose inventiveness and wit and sense of vision are a constant inspiration to me. Thanks for a great 2009, Sam; now if we could only find a time for our “Four Seasons” initial script meeting…

Happy New Year to all!!

Cover Models

Wednesday, December 30th, 2009

So, the new issue of Symphony Magazine is out! (Yeah, I know – you had no idea there was such a magazine. Marketing isn’t exactly their strong suit, and besides, it’s put out by the League of American Orchestras, so it’s sort of a trade publication in any case.)

Anyway, the first issue of 2010 is out, and I bring it up because their lead story is all about classical musicians who blog, and, um, well…

Yah. So that happened. Which is interesting, because Sarah and I are not even remotely the sole focus of the article, which also features the fantastic online work of Nico Muhly, Stephen Hough, Tim Munro, and others. I suspect that we’re on the cover because the orchestra happened to have professionally shot photos of the two of us pretending to type on a computer, and I’m guessing that none of the other bloggers in the article had such shots readily available.

Anyway, the article is interesting in that it reveals how the most popular classical bloggers seem to be the ones who realize that they should write about a lot more than just how Beethoven used deceptive cadences and how much they practice. Nico writes about exotic dining experiences as often as he writes about music, and Tim gets into all sorts of logistical stuff about the difficulty of being a touring ensemble.

I don’t know what it is about blogging that makes the content more entertaining when the author is writing outside his/her actual area of expertise, but it does seem to be a genuine thing. My friend Kate, a violist in the Buffalo Philharmonic, writes a hilarious and comprehensive blog about (wait for it) the Buffalo Sabres hockey team. Seriously, she does, and guess which activity – viola playing or blogging about hockey while giving her favorite players nicknames like “Pommerdoodle” – has landed her in the pages of the New York Times?

Anyway, thanks to Symphony Mag for including us, and to anyone who’s just come to our little corner of the interwebs via their link, welcome, and you should probably just go over to the right and click on the “fun” tab if you want to get a basic idea of what we do here. Unless you’re one of those serious musical types, in which case, you want “stirring the pot,” or maybe “elitism.” Your call…

“A few moments’ rest and refreshment”

Tuesday, December 29th, 2009

Rested and refreshed from my week off (really, truly, an entire week! I have to remember how good this feels…).

To get back into the swing of things (blogging included), “rest and refreshment” in a very different context:

September 22, 1802

Gentlemen,

It was a most pleasant surprise to receive such a flattering letter from a part of the world where I could never have imagined that the products of my poor talents were known. But when I see that not only is my name familiar to you, but my compositions are performed by you with approval and satisfaction, the warmest wishes of my heart are fulfilled: to be considered a not wholly unworthy priest of this sacred art by every nation where my works are known. You reassure me on this point as regards your fatherland, but even more, you happily persuade me — and this cannot fail to be a real source of consolation to me in my declining years — that I am often the enviable means by which you, and so many other families sensible of heartfelt emotion, derive, in their homely circle, their pleasure — their enjoyment. How reassuring this thought is to me! Often, when struggling against the obstacles of every sort which oppose my labors; often, when the powers of mind and body weakened, and it was difficult for me to continue in the course I had entered on;– a secret voice whispered to me, “There are so few happy and contented people here below; grief and sorrow are always their lot; perhaps your labors will once be a source from which the care-worn, or the man burdened with affairs, can derive a few moments’ rest and refreshment.” This was indeed a powerful motive to press onwards, and this is why I now look back with cheerful satisfaction on the labors expended on this art, to which I have devoted so many long years of uninterrupted effort and exertion…

Your wholly obedient servant,
Joseph Haydn

Merry Happy.

Thursday, December 24th, 2009

I mentioned this song a couple of weeks back in the post about best/worst holiday music. I’ve never been much for carols, on the whole, but this Dar Williams song is Christmas to me, encapsulating all the familial gulfs and grudges that we manage to overcome every year, even if only for a day or two.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HDcGbUEayAI]

My favorite line: “But we love trees, we love the snow, the friends we have, the world we share / And you find magic in your God, and we find magic Everywhere.”

Merry Christmas, y’all. And thanks for reading…

Cross-(Genre)-Pollination

Wednesday, December 23rd, 2009

I’ve written before about the various apprehensions that orchestral musicians feel about playing pops music, and I’ve also written about the need for orchestras to expand their range of concert offerings (including encouraging the development of good pops music) if we want to remain a vital cultural force. My feelings on the subject have generally boiled down to two fundamental truths: 1) Classical musicians, on the whole, need to get over the notion that we’re too good/serious/important to play popular music, and 2) Bad pops arrangements (which are the vast majority of them) need to be replaced with scores that actually give the orchestra something substantial to do, if we ever want fans of popular music to embrace the orchestra as a concept.

But coming off our most pops-intensive month of the season (we haven’t actually played a standard classical concert since mid-November, and won’t again until the third week of January,) I’ve been finding reasons to be encouraged. And that encouragement comes largely from the presence on our podium of pops leaders who understand the difference between “popular” and “pandering.”

One of the things that made me strongly supportive of the Minnesota Orchestra’s decision to appoint Sarah Hicks as our new Principal Pops Conductor was the fact that she demonstrably understands the orchestra’s proper role in a really good pops show. We don’t need to be center stage all the time, especially if we’ve paid some famous guest artist or other a lot of money to sit in front of us and be the focal point of the show. But if all we’re doing is sitting back on our heels and droning an unending series of whole notes, it’s a terrible waste of resources. Sarah gets that, and she’s already made a noticeable effort to find (or create) arrangements and original pieces that utilize the orchestra in a way that would be familiar to someone who’s actually heard a Beethoven symphony before. (By the way, if you missed Sarah on MPR’s Midmorning program last week, go back and have a listen. She was the very picture of unflappable accessibility…)

Moreover, I was reminded last weekend, as I am every year, of just how impressive musicians outside the classical realm can be, when Doc Severinsen blew back into town for his annual Jingle Bell Doc show. Make no mistake: Doc is every bit the over-the-top, flashy, leather-and-sequin-obsessed character that he was for all those years on Carson. But lurking behind that larger-than-life persona is a musical talent, drive, and ambition that put most of us in the orchestra business to shame.

Doc’s always been known for bringing some of the very best orchestral arrangements in the business to the stage with him, courtesy of his long partnerships with killer musician/arrangers like Tommy Newsom and Dick Lieb. But his commitment to what he does goes way beyond that, and, I’d venture to say, well beyond nearly any other musician within 20 years of his age.

I happened to be hanging out at Orchestra Hall a few hours before our Saturday night performance with Doc at the helm. We’d had our lone rehearsal for this concert the day before, and Saturday afternoon, Sarah had led most of the orchestra in the final performance of this year’s “Scandinavian Christmas” run. I had a lesson to teach, so rather than go home between shows, I stuck around, practiced a bit, and generally killed some time.

It was somewhere between 5 and 6pm when Doc showed up backstage, hustled to his practice room, and began to work. I choose that word deliberately. I was in an adjoining practice room, and he wasn’t playing – he was working. Every musician knows the difference between mindless warm-up and serious practicing, and this was decidedly the latter. I actually stopped teaching my student for a moment to point out the obvious concentration that this famous 83-year-old trumpeter, with nothing to prove to anyone in the world, was putting into his preparation for a Christmas show he’s led dozens of times before.

It’s things like this that separate the great musicians from the merely talented, and classical music has no kind of lock on that sort of passion and commitment. I don’t know how many more years I’ll have the good fortune to work with Doc, but I know for a fact that he’s set the bar for what it means to have a full, meaningful career in this business. And from my side of the classical/pops divide, that means everything.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V-ewGQx4Vfo]

Selling It

Sunday, December 20th, 2009

So, this past Friday night, a big group of MN Orchers made our way to the Walker for the annual celebration of salesmanship and corporate artistry that is the British Television Advertisting Awards. (For those readers not from the Twin Cities: I know. Sitting and watching 90 minutes of TV ads sounds ridiculous, and not like something a major American museum should be promoting. But you’ll just have to trust us. It’s awesome.) I’ve been going to the BTAA show for several years now, and I have to say, 2009 was one of the best reels I’ve seen. Very few clunkers, several amazingly poignant ads, plenty of laughs…

…and then, about midway through the show, there was this, which had everyone in the theater baffled right up to the very end…

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i1EYBckMRb4]

If there is a better way to market grand opera in 2009, I don’t know what it would be. And if you ask me, this is exactly the kind of thing orchestras need to be doing more of. Opera companies have gotten very good in recent years at reinventing their image, making their performances seem like not-to-be-missed events, and generally making themselves seem like the cool corner of the classical music world. And that, by extension, makes orchestras the decidedly uncool corner. They’re exciting, we’re sleepy, they’re hip and fresh, we’re stuffy and tuxedoed, they’re simulcasting their biggest shows live to your local movie theater, we’re stuck in a mid-20th century universe pretending that the internet doesn’t exist.

You might point out that it’s easier for an opera company to market itself on a visual medium like YouTube than it would be for an orchestra, but I’m not buying it. The stories behind symphonic music, even non-programmatic stuff like a Shostakovich symphony, are easily as riveting as your average opera libretto. It’s just a matter of finding the part of the narrative that’s going to grab people, and then retelling it in a creative way and getting it out there where people can see it. It’s really not rocket science, and orchestras need to get a whole lot better at embracing that sort of idea, even if it means changing some longstanding elements of our business model…

Bassoon Christmas!

Friday, December 18th, 2009

So, you may recall that my post last week about Christmas music I love and hate included a brief reference to an Oberlin Conservatory tradition known as “Bassoon Christmas.” And naturally, I shot the link for that post to a few old college friends who participated in said event. And, as always seems to happen in the world of Facebook, this sparked an intense round of reminiscence, which eventually turned up more than a few old photos…

The gang’s all here! That’s Oberlin professor and Bassoon Xmas
mastermind George Sakakeeny in the upper right…

Believe it or not, she somehow recovered from this
to become a professional orchestra musician…

…and, more importantly, actual audio of the 1997 version of the Oberlin bassoon studio in all their dweeby holiday glory!

http://www.weebly.com/weebly/apps/audioPlayer2.swf?user_id=1250109

There’s a lot more where that came from, but you’ll have to go here to hear it. Anyone know of other similar holiday traditions featuring music nerds with too much time on their hands?

Holiday Video Wars

Thursday, December 17th, 2009

OK, Sam, that Hallelujah video was nothing short of brilliant. Here’s something way short of brilliant, which I find mysterious on several levels. First of all, why does it start in major? And what’s up with the shadowy Milla-Jovovich-in-”The Fifth Element” phantom overlaid for the whole video? And most of all, why??

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O9pzE8rlt_w]

Sounds of Silence

Tuesday, December 15th, 2009

Everybody loves a good Hallelujah Chorus, especially at this time of year. And if there’s anything more uplifting than listening to the most famous movement of Handel’s Messiah, it’s singing it yourself! But what if you’re a devout monk (I know, I know, but stay with me) who’s taken a lifelong vow of silence? Must you deprive yourself of this most simple and pure of Christmas traditions?

Not anymore!

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZCFCeJTEzNU]

That is just purely brilliant. A big hat tip to my friend Susie Telsey (she’s the spangly bassoonist in last week’s Christmas music post, btw) for sending this my way…

Name Recognition

Monday, December 14th, 2009

As I’ve mentioned before, a lot of the time between Inside the Classics concerts is spent gathering and analyzing data from people who attend, or are thinking about attending, our series. From the beginning, ItC was conceived to be something of an incubator for new orchestral ideas, and it does us very little good to be throwing new concepts at the wall unless we have a way of measuring which ones are sticking. Thus all the research, and the pleas for feedback, and our virtual obsession with who is coming to our concerts and why.

To that end, we’re currently working with a great Chicago-based company that specializes in such research and has been running polls and focus groups for us to measure the effectiveness not only of what we do on stage, but also the various posters, flyers, ads, and mailings we put out to try to generate interest. It’s always fascinating to read the diversity of opinion that gets offered up in these situations – in a room of 7 or 8 people, you’re likely to have 9 or 10 opinions. (This is why we use professionals to analyze it all – they’ve seen it all a thousand times before, and they’re expert at picking out and explaining the trends that are hiding in the mass of data.)

This past week, we had a big meeting to go over the latest focus group data, and as usual, my favorite part of the morning wasn’t so much reading about the larger trends that we’ll actually look at as we form our future concert seasons, but the individual comments and quips from audience members. For instance, it’s abundantly clear from all the research we do that Sarah’s name and identity are firmly lodged in the mind of everyone who’s ever seen an Inside the Classics show. When it comes to me, however…

…not so much. It could be a function of years of pre-conditioning of audience members to make the conductor the primary focus of their attention, or it could be that I actually say Sarah’s name several times over the course of any given ItC show, whereas mine might come up only once. It could even be (gasp!) that Sarah is simply a more memorable onstage presence than some dorky violist with a microphone.

But whatever the reason, the research is clear that, while people tend to be very complimentary of the role I play in our concerts, and say very nice things about the onstage chemistry between Sarah and me, they seem to have a very hard time remembering my name. Which doesn’t actually bother me in the least – I’d much rather they remember the music they heard, or the fact that they want to be sure to return the next time Sarah’s conducting – but it has led to my acquiring some interesting nicknames among the ItC planning team.

One woman in the most recent round of audience research referred to me as “The Other Fellow.” Another went with “the character.” Yet another said, “I was very intrigued when a viola player got up… because they don’t get to speak very much!” (This person has clearly never seen the Minnesota Orchestra viola section in rehearsal.) And my favorite: one gentleman, after struggling to remember my name mid-sentence, finally went with “Viola Boy.” (This last one so delighted our Marketing VP that she immediately dashed off an e-mail to inform me of my new nickname.)

As I say, I could actually care less whether anyone remembers my name, so long as they remember that they liked the show. And I have to admit, I’ve started looking forward to reading whatever new noms de spectateurs I’m graced with when new research data arrives. Not sure anyone’s gonna top Viola Boy, though. I might need a superhero costume to go with that one…

Image borrowed from the awesome ViolaMan.net…