Choral
Music in New Jersey
Part
1.
By
Paul M. Somers
Who says that classical music is dying? Concertgoers
who decry the lack of attendees under 40, especially kids and teens;
record companies which point to steep declines in sales; commercial
radio stations which look for a demographic which they say doesn’t
care about classical music. These doomsayers all use statistics, whether
from polls or anecdotal observation, which are based on purchasing
a product: a ticket, a CD or DVD, or advertised products.
But there is another means of calculation: participation.
I would suggest that more Americans participate to one degree
or another in classical music than in any other organized group
activity. This is because beginning in junior high or
middle school people sing in choruses.
Not all of what is out there in the choral world is classical,
but much is. And folks from ten to 80 are doing the singing,
and it isn’t all barbershop or Broadway. There’s a good dose of Handel and Franck and
Brahms and Mozart as well as Paulus, Lauridsen, - and in New Jersey
Svane, Sampson, and Johnson.
Gee-whiz
number:
Talbott
Library at Westminster Choir College of Rider University has
in its collection 80,000+ works published as octavo choral
sheet music. This does not count large works in bound volumes
and music in anthologies or other collections. The music ranges from ancient chant to the latest
works to become available.
One would be hard pressed to come up with that much
instrumental music.
Who does all this singing in New Jersey? Of
course the various choirs at Westminster and at the state’s many
other colleges and universities, the singers at the American Boychoir
School and the other children’s choirs around the state, and most
churches and temples of any size have choirs, some very fine indeed!
And there is the host of choral groups scattered pretty
evenly throughout our 21 counties, some professional but most made
up of dedicated amateurs. Anyone who wants to sing great music with a
chorus can probably do so without driving more than half an hour
to get to rehearsal. Some
singers regularly travel an hour or more to sing with their favorite
group or conductor.
When nationwide statistics show that more people attend
performing arts events than professional sports, a large part of
that figure is choral concerts. Most amateur choristers sell tickets to their
friends, even the ones who don’t go to other classical concerts.
I can’t remember the last time I was at an amateur
choral concert which was ill-attended.
Two
farewell concerts
By
Paul Somers
This
year marked the completion of Joseph Flummerfelt’s long-time leadership of
the choral program at Westminster
Choir College of Rider University. He
could, of course, choose his heart’s musical desire for a farewell
concert. His choice was Beethoven’s monumental Missa Solemnis, one of the great choral
works in the repertoire.
The full Symphonic Choir and fine professional
orchestra filled the stage of Patriots’
Theatre at the Trenton War Memorial.
The hall was filled nearly to overflowing with Westminster
alumnć, faculty, friends, and their families.
There was even some room for that backbone of all concert
attendance: fans of great music.
They sat through the de rigueur greetings in an unusually
attentive spirit, for both Mordechai Rozanski, the President of Rider
University, and Robert L.
Annis, the Dean of Westminster Choir College, spoke warm words
of appreciation for what Dr. Flummerfelt has meant to their institution
and to the world beyond. These were words all had come to hear, brief
and heart-felt expressions which acted as surrogate for the audience.
Then Flummerfelt followed soprano Sally
Wolf, mezzo-soprano Laura
Brooks Rice, tenor Patrick
Marques (a last minute substitute for the indisposed Scott
McCoy), and baritone David Arnold onto the stage.
Beethoven’s noble and sublime E-flat chord began a work
which spoke of modernity as strongly as it spoke of the early 19th
century. After the drama
and weight of all the preceding portions of the Mass, the final
“Dona nobis pacem” touched home.
Beethoven’s memorable melody asking for peace floated in
the air, even with - or perhaps because of - the large forces,
and the distant rumble of war which the composer inserted nearly
two hundred years ago was no longer about Bonaparte but about the
very hour of this 21st century concert.
The choir proved itself to be a creature of Flummerfelt’s
own musicality. While it is trendy among musicians to downplay
the importance of the conductor, the simple fact is that an organization
of this size could not produce such a magnificent performance without
the guiding hand of a person with a central and very specific vision. The chorus’s diction was impeccable, and that
of course resulted in rhythmic articulation of the highest order. The slightest dynamic nuances were produced
organically, not sounding as if pasted in for effect. While it is strictly accurate at the technical
level to say that the performance was founded on well-supported
breathing, the technique was but metaphor for the higher purpose
of spiritual elevation.
The soloists were three-quarters fine.
Veterans Wolf, Rice, and Arnold, all of whom have been reviewed
quite favorably in this Journal when they were the featured artists,
in this case supported their elder colleague on the podium with
fine singing. Substitute
tenor Marques was unfortunately inadequate to the task with a wobble
far too large for someone of his relative youth.
The 60-piece orchestra, knowing full well that the conductor
would give them what they needed, yet spend most of his time leading
the singers, was filled with first-rank players who knew whom to
follow when: Flummerfelt himself or various principal players,
especially concertmaster Erica Kiesewetter. Every nuance
required of the singers was perfectly duplicated in the orchestra.
It was a measure of the concert’s importance that the line
to pick up held tickets stretched across the front of the War Memorial
and down the long flight of granite steps forty-five minutes before
the performance.
________________________________________________________
Another
farewell this spring was conductor Garyth Nair’s. After 34 years leading the Summit Chorale, he stepped down to follow
directions his career as a vocal pedagogue have taken without feeling
the weekly pull of an obligation to rehearse and the daily work
of learning scores.
He, too, chose one of the great choral masterworks for his
final public performance: Brahms’ Ein deutsches Requiem. It is
a score dear to his heart and music which he leads perfectly. This was Brahms with deep feeling, even passion,
but always at a distance - Moses viewing the promised land from
the mountaintop but never engaging in the hand-to-hand combat and
political skullduggery of winning it.
Nair, a Westminster graduate and now choral and orchestral
director at Drew University in Madison, knows how
to create choral energy through crisp diction.
Even in the most *legato passages the resulting articulation
defined the musical line without any blurring.
For music by Brahms with his roots deep in the Germanic
*contrapuntal tradition, this was a natural.
But such clean articulation also illuminated in the very
French impressionist ethos of the Duruflé Requiem
during the Summit Chorale’s March 6 concert by increasing the vocal
colors available.
The *dynamic range Mr. Nair created was wide, though never
becoming as loud as he would have requested for, say, the Verdi
Requiem. Thus the “Wie lieblich” was movingly shaped
not only with small nuance at “Meine Seele verlanget” and “mein
Leib und Seele freuen sich,” (two instances among many) but with
dramatic contrasts at other key places.
Nowhere was this range so apparent as at the tremendous
*crescendo in “Denn alles Fleisch es ist wie Gras,” and the sudden
drop to *pianissimo at “Das Gras ist verdorret” was executed as
well as I have ever heard it. These
are examples from early in the work, but such care for detail was
present throughout.
The Summit Chorale, like several others in the state, often
uses soloists from within its own ranks.
But for this work and this occasion two fully professional
soloists were engaged. The famed Metropolitan Opera baritone Mark Delavan, who lives nearby, was in
top form. One would be hard
pressed to remember a performance better in touch with the text. Delavan is known for his intense stage characterizations,
and here he inhabited the text in the persona of a poet/pastor.
A listener sitting near me mentioned before the performance
that she had never before heard him. After the first baritone solo she turned to
face me soundlessly shaking her head with her jaw dropped.
Linda Carroll faced the same dilemma every
soprano must deal with in the Brahms Requiem:
does she sit on stage for a long time while awaiting her one solo
or stay off-stage and keep her voice warmed up and enter only in
time to sing? Ms. Carroll chose to sit, and it showed. Her first minute was worrisome, but then her
voice got going again and conveyed the text’s
consolations
with emotion and clarity.
It must be said that when the work is interrupted while
a soprano makes her entrance it usually stops the performance in
its tracks and draws attention to the soloist rather than the music.
So neither solution is wholly satisfactory.
The Chamber Symphony of New Jersey, the orchestra Nair has
always used, is, of course, a “pick-up” orchestra.
But this term sounds too derogatory.
While it is technically true, the contractor has always
been Vincent Carano,
and he has supplied Mr. Nair with as close to the same musicians
over the decades as he can, so this occasion found a group of people
who not only play together often as free-lancers but who are used
to Nair and trust his musicianship and technique.
At the conclusion the audience cheered and stood.
This performance alone deserved the accolade.
But as the applause spread from the listeners to the members
of the chorus and orchestra it was clear that this was an appreciation
of 34 years of dedication to excellence.
An
Uncommon Arrangement
This
Journal has always
been free to do what newspapers don’t, and that includes writing
reviews of friends. This
is the proper time to share with you how and why I always
felt free to review Garyth Nair’s concerts even during my
tenure with the Star-Ledger.
I had known him for
several years in a conductor to composer relationship.
The Summit Chorale had commissioned me to compose and
subsequently premiered a large Christmas work for three choirs,
and others of my works were also performed.
Garyth, an avid sailor, discovered that I have a certain
fondness for the same pastime, so he indulged me with some
fine afternoons of tacking around Raritan Bay.
Then came the call from the Ledger and my acceptance of the position. Practically the first call I made was to Gary
telling him that our friendship was about to take an unexpected
turn which would require more distance.
His response was that this was not so.
“If I ever think you are pulling your punches,” he
said, “I’ll be very upset with you! For one thing, you would be depriving me of
a great tool for working with the chorale.
But beyond that we have always been honest and that
should never change.”
Over the years we both kept up our ends of that bargain
including a few times when he got upset with a review because
he thought it not tough enough.
That’s integrity worth celebrating.
Festivals
The
Raritan River Music Festival continued apace and, going against
the astro-physical tide as it were, concluded
with a “Big Bang” on May 27 as Eileen Ivers and Immigrant Soul
came to Clinton Presbyterian Church.
The previous weekend the Biava String Quartet remained within the
more usual programming sphere of the Festival.
__________________________________________
The
Biava Quartet
Saturday, May 22, 2004
By David Lockart
The
blossomed hills of Hunterdon County are the place to be in May
when the musical flower is the Raritan River Music Festival presenting
world-class talent in some of the most beautiful venues in New
Jersey. On this occasion the audience was treated to a performance
by the acclaimed {Biava Quartet, a much-awarded string quartet,
joined by oboist Thomas Gallant in the bucolic Stanton Reformed Church.
Lacking the expected wrinkled brow and wagging jowl of a
seasoned quartet, the Biavas consist of four vibrant young adults,
all just recently graduated with their Master's degrees from the
Cleveland Institute of Music. Belying their age, these four virtuosos quickly
established themselves as a premiere quartet through their superb
musicianship and thorough scholarship, and may well be introducing
us to the new wave of excellence in American chamber music.
Their members are (in *score order) Austin
Hartman, Hyunsu Ko, Mary Persin, and
Jacob Braun.
Anchoring the program was Beethoven’s String
Quartet in C Major, op. 59, no. 3, commissioned by Russian
Count Razumovsky, the Ambassador to Austria.
This harmonically complex piece was led expertly by Mr.
Hartman, as he brought the quartet through the exciting and treacherous
landscape of the music, with second violinist Hyunsu Ko sweetly
and ably supporting his every move.
Op. 59, the Razumovsky Quartets, contain Russian musical
themes, clearly evident in nos. 1 and 2. Though such overt
contents are unrecognizable to this listener in no. 3, the weightily
played second movement contains themes rife with the *augmented
second interval in the descending *harmonic minor scale, certainly
hinting at a regional characteristic outside the borders of Germany.
The climax came in the form of a *fugato in the "Allegro
Molto" fourth movement. The extremely difficult contrapuntal
subject, along with the very fast tempo, required abilities only
available to an excellent quartet. Fingers flew on the instruments and their bows
attacked the strings at an unbelievable pace. The audience
was lifted to new musical heights by the clean and virtuosic performance,
leaping to its feet in appreciation of a performance of the highest
quality.
The centerpiece of the concert was a brand new work, From Amber Frozen by Mason Bates. The Biava Quartet premiered
the work earlier this month in Alice Tully Hall as winners of the
2003 Naumburg Chamber Music Award. Our musical and imaginative
senses were challenged by a brilliant performance.
The "program" for From
Amber Frozen suggested by Mr. Bates is the emergence and evolution
of an insect in a Jurassic world. An insect hatches, grows,
matures, reaches adulthood, and eventually dies, only to begin
the life cycle again. The listener is thrust into a new world
by the unusual techniques Mr. Bates requires of the players, including
drum slaps, bowing behind the *bridge, furious *pizzicato, finger
pops, haunting *overtones, *quarter-tone dissonance, and *de-tuning
strings with the pegs while a pitch resonates. Using these
and more traditional methods, the listener can conjure up a fascinating
mental picture of what might be happening in the life of this bug
in its primeval environment. Furthering our enjoyment is
the depth of knowledge the quartet has of this tremendously difficult
score.
Completing the program was the Mozart Quartet
in F Major for Oboe and Strings, K. 370. Mr. Gallant
played this piece of standard oboe repertoire elegantly with considerable
attention given to musical phrasing and articulation. Mr.
Gallant's tone was clear, light, warm, and well focused - a pleasure
to hear. Joining forces with three members of the Biava Quartet
for this concert, the ensemble played with outstanding communication
between the parts, with the strings serving both accompanimental
and soloistic needs as required. Mr. Gallant had some difficulty
with sharped intonation in his extreme upper register, and most
unfortunately this included the last note of the piece, causing
one to guess how much the atmospheric conditions affected the instrument.
The only complaint of the warm and humid evening was the
open windows, necessary due to the lack of air conditioning, but
allowing occasional car noises to annoy the most careful listener.
Fortunately, the motorcycle passed between movements. But
in a way, this is part of the charm of the Raritan River Festival.
A century ago, the only difference would be the clip clop from
a horse and buggy.
Classical music aficionados are hereby put on notice that
if you miss a Raritan River Music Festival concert, you have missed
an excellent one-of-a-kind musical experience.
Eileen
Ivers and Immigrant Soul
with Michael Newman and Laura Oltman (guitars).
Saturday, May 29, 2004
By Paul M. Somers
The
final Raritan River Music Festival concert began with Festival
director/hosts Michael Newman
and Laura Oltman playing
Three Silly Songs by Rami Vamos and Randall Avers, two young musicians.
The pieces provided ample opportunity for the duo to show
off its tight ensemble and well matched sound.
Gently modernist, the pieces were very American in their
eclectic influences. Sure, one knew that they had heard the standard
guitar composers and were familiar with the dryly acerbic wit of
the 20th century “Les Six.” But
there was an unassuming kind of fun to their music and a lyricism
born more of the American countryside than of its overly sophisticated
cities. The whimsical titles - “A light dry table wine,”
“Berries n’ cream,” and “Cricket” - had not much to do with the
music itself. Yet each created the same smile of pleasure
that the tangible object might elicit.
Celtic fiddler Eileen Ivers, the guest of the evening, and
three of her sidemen (flutist Ivan Goff, guitarist James Riley,
and frame drummer Tommy McDonnell) joined the guitar duo to
play music by the great Irish itinerant composer Turlough
O’Carolan (1670-1738). The
tunes and their performance were just what this listener had envisioned
as the contents of a celtic evening: the folk affectations of sliding
pitch, the lyric lines sweetly rising and falling, and a reach
back in culture, perhaps a touch sentimental but musically enlightening
of an age and a style which deeply influenced American music.
This idea was not contradicted when Ivers played a medley
of old tunes, or even when she and the Newman-Oltman Duo had a
good time expanding on Pachelbel’s good old Kanon in D.
But after the intermission all the big electronics which
had been ominously evident before came into play.
The result was a short and brutally loud ethno-rock concert.
All the players demonstrated virtuosity on their respective
instruments, but that was not the point.
It had been the point in the first half, but now they took
on the task of working the crowd (it was a full house for the second
time that day) into a clapping, stomping frenzy in which music
was redefined by sound level, expression was flattened by amplification,
nuance was non-existent, and the texts of songs were incomprehensible.
I hated every second of it and did not get up and leave
only because I decided I’d rather make a clear statement in print
than through an act which could be interpreted too many ways.
Happily, the main body of the Raritan River Music Festival
celebrates the highest impulses of Western Civilization.
And that included the first half of the concert.
I checked with a native of Ireland and with a musician with
wide tastes. They confirmed that Ms. Ivers is far from what
one would expect to hear in an Irish pub either across the pond
or here.
What this hand-over-his-ears listener would have loved was
to have heard exactly the same second half with not one bit of
amplification. The same
energy, the same sense of generating community fun, even the same
final references to Gospel singing, but without the medically dangerous
decibels and thus with
the ability to actually hear and appreciate the considerable musicianship
of the members of Immigrant Soul.
Cape May Music Festival
By
Paul M. Somers
The
Fifteenth Anniversary Cape May Music Festival got its classical component off to a tremendous
start as the New York Chamber
Ensemble presented a “Bohemian Rhapsody” on Tuesday, May 25. The Episcopal
Church of the Advent was filled to overflowing, as is the norm
for the chamber music at the Festival.
But it is no longer only the chamber music in the smaller
venue which draws the crowds. When the Bay-Atlantic
Symphony, the resident orchestra of the Festival, gave its
first concert two days later in the Convention Hall, over 400 filled
the seats. In both cases the audiences were enthusiastic. This enthusiasm is not merely a result of the
hometown audience effect; even this early in the season Cape May
is a tourist spot, and the audiences include a goodly number of
vacationers.
Both the chamber and the orchestral series have genial and
accessible host musicians - clarinetist/conductor Alan Kay and conductor Jed Gaylin respectively - who
draw the audience into the experience before the music begins. Even with fine program notes, their personal
touch and welcome goes far to invite the audience to return again
and again.
The “Bohemian Rhapsody” immediately put two Festival favorites,
violinists Renée Jolles and
Andrea Schultz, before the eager audience.
Teamed with violist
Ah Ling Neu the three gave Antonin
Dvorák’s Terzetto in C major, op. 74, all the weight
of a full quartet. Certainly
Ms. Neu was fully adequate in holding down the bass line when it
came her way, for she has a richly dark sound and an ability to
make her instrument sing like a tenor.
The two veterans of the series were exemplars of tone and
ensemble. Preceding their
deeply inflected performance Kay quipped that the piece is a “Quartet
– hold the cello.”
Dvorák was hardly the only Bohemian to come to America and
create fine music. Bohuslav
Martinu fled the Nazis in 1940 and at one point in his American
sojourn was on the faculty of our own Princeton
University. His Trio for flute, cello, and piano calls for brilliant playing, often
in a jaunty Gallic style. Flutist Susan Rotholz, cellist Eliot Bailen, and pianist Bari Mort, all well-known to Cape
May Festival audiences, were in top form.
Each had virtuoso turns, but they made the performance about
much more than flying fingers.
Ms. Mort’s prelude-like solo opening to the Adagio had an
eloquent simplicity of expression which continued as the others
entered. It came across as a pastorale chorale.
Ms. Rotholz’s flute solo opening the finale dazzled the
audience. In spite of its *scherzando indication, all
three players gave it much more depth than was found in the opening
movement. The piece became a trajectory of seriousness
rather than two equally frothy movements surrounding one of slow
lyricism.
Throughout the work the brash piano sound covered the cello
too often. So for the second half, Dvorák’s incomparable
*Piano Quintet, Mr. Bailen used a different bow and was heard quite
well.
This is, of course, one of the great works of the chamber
music literature, and within it the “Dumka” is one of the great
movements. These musicians
know each other’s playing and, more than that, they take the time
to rehearse until they are satisfied, not until the little hand
on the clock is one place and the big hand another.
It always shows, and in this case resulted in one of the
finest performances of this work I have ever heard.
All the details were in place, and they added up, as they
should, to more than the sum of the notes. This was a visit to the Bohemian soul with richly
evocative, emotionally layered playing from all. Ms. Neu understood her role as Dvorák himself,
especially in the “Dumka.” Ms.
Mort tamed the over-bright piano and created gossamer delicacy
or sonorous power on demand.
Cellist Bailen will be soloist in Victor
Herbert’s Cello Concerto
no. 2 in E minor with the Bay-Atlantic Symphony on June 17.
This work influenced Dvorák, who acknowledged that Herbert’s
example showed him the way toward his own cello masterpiece.
Herbert was Dvorák’s assistant in New York.
____________________________________________
It was Corbin Cogswell,
a supporter of the Festival, who pointed out after the “Elastic
Band” concert that the new music factor which is present in the
Festival fits in well with the otherwise heavily Victorian Cape
May environment. While we
look back upon that era with a degree of conservative nostalgia,
Victorians, for all their surface stodginess, were entranced by
the latest developments in the arts and sciences.
Many inventions which are still used were developed in that
period, including that wonderful (if expensive) invention - the
modern orchestra. In fact it became an artistic hallmark of the
age with an audience which asked for new music and spent much time
and energy discussing the merits of new works and composers, not
leaving such matters solely to critics and scholars.
The very first work played this season by the Bay-Atlantic
Symphony was the premiere of Raymond Wojcik’s Cape May Reflections, the final tangible product of this year’s
installment of the Mid-Atlantic
Center for the Arts’ “Sights and Sounds” education outreach. The whole concert was titled “Under the Inspiration,”
and in this case each of the seven movements was inspired by abstract
artworks of one set of students and the descriptions of them by
another set. All the pictures
were projected on a large screen to the left of the orchestra as
the appropriate piece was played.
Holly O’Donnell’s The New Planet was quite visually depicted in the music as the planet
coalesces into the overtone series out of sonic chaos. “Purple Loops” was great fun, particularly because
the harp so clearly “drew” the loops.
Purple was interpreted as english horn and bassoon *doubling
each other.
Young artist Sean
Colameco’s A Bad Day at the Boardwalk (the name came
from a 7th grade class, not the artist) was the funniest. A woozy waltz penetrated by the sounds of boomboxes,
arcade games, and passing amusement pier rides garnered its own
applause, though it was not the final miniature of the set of seven.
This was rightly reserved for a zippy piece called “Caribbean
Jazz” based on a strong, colorful painting by Brittany
Schultz. The meter is a driving *5/4 which at its conclusion
brought the audience to its feet.
Pianist Enrico Elisi took his first trip
through the Second Rachmaninoff
Concerto. It is a difficult work with not one measure
or phrase ever repeated exactly.
He proved to be a fine player with a natural sense of drama
and line. As he grows into the piece he will doubtless
make it sing even more. The
cadenzas were flawless and his stage persona was intent yet not
overly intense. The sound of the piano was bright and cold,
but that seemed not be Elisi’s fault.
Rimski-Korsakov’s Scheherazade was given an expansive and cinematic reading. The piece’s personnel demands are really too
large for the Cape May Convention Hall stage.
The strings, which really need two to three times the number
available, too often sounded thin.
On the other hand the solo woodwinds compensated with very
fine solo turns. Concertmaster
Thomas Jackson presented an exotic Scheherazade in his solos.
Gaylin’s well-paced building toward the climactic depiction
of the final shipwreck was quite effective and his tone painting
of the surging seascapes was perhaps inspired by the real thing
about 100 yards away.
At the conclusion the audience leaped to its feet.
The temperature on stage was a sweltering 95ş F., and staying
in tune was a problem which plagued the concert all evening.
The management has to choose between keeping the air-conditioning
on and not hearing the concert well and turning it off and allowing
players and, to a somewhat lesser extent, the audience to become
hotter and hotter. One hears rumors of a new concert hall, but
even if they materialize it will hardly be in the near future.
This heat situation had more of an impact on the second
orchestral concert on June 3. During the first half the full hall itself became
uncomfortable for some audience members and was less full for the
second half with many comments about the heat delivered by those
who left. Perhaps an explanatory word before the concert
would be helpful. People
really are good sports about such matters if only they have someone
explain it to them.
The concert itself was far less plagued by intonation problems,
what with the stage heat lessened because each player had more
room. The orchestra was
smaller and there was no grand piano taking up space.
Instead, this time there was 16-year-old violinist
Rachel Lee. Since the
concert was all-Mendelssohn, it was needless to say
the famous E minor Violin
Concerto which she played.
Keep in mind that this is one of the – if not the
- most played of the standard violin concertos - quite susceptible
to cookie-cutter interpretation.
But Ms. Lee brought to the war horse a youthful freshness,
even as one could hear certain ideas about the piece coming directly
from her teacher Itzhak Perlman. That is his job with someone her age; she’ll
find her own way best after she has honed her skills with a strong
presence. At times one could hear her inexperience with
an orchestra when she clearly expected that they could as easily
follow her as a pianist could.
With that caveat stated, it was her sense of herself on
stage which impressed as much as her playing.
She was the very image of self-possession.
If she can keep that intact without allowing herself to
tip over into the world of the diva, then we shall have heard a
fine young violinist with a future.
In keeping with the theme of “Maritime Mendelssohn,”
the concert began with the Hebrides Overture, his best nautical evocation.
Just as he had the week before with Scheherazade,
conductor Gaylin created the sublime pulse of the sea.
The sight of the untamed energy of nature was a great theme
of the romantic Victorians.
This aspect of the culture and Mendlessohn’s relationship
to it was also captured in the Bay-Atlantic’s performance of the
ultra-famous “Italian” Symphony. For much
of northern Europe, including both Protestant Germany and England,
two of Mendelssohn’s most familiar locations, Italy was exotic. Not only was it a different, warmer climate
south of the Alps, but there was a Mediterranean and Roman Catholic
ethos which appealed to those who lived under clouds both physically
and metaphorically.
This lively and warm view of the work permeated the performance. Rhythms were crisp but not tense, colors were
warmer as the actual stage temperature was a tad cooler than the
previous week, and there was an eager sense from the stage that
the players were in territory not only familiar but well-loved.
The horns played the *Trio section of the Minuet with fine
dynamic shape, and bassoonist Ping Lang’s contributions were
refined and lyrical.
Again the audience supplied a major ovation as it stood
in appreciation.
NJSO Dvorák Festival revisited
Introduction
Students discover Antonin Dvorák and American Music
by Jay Gavitt
Social
Studies Subject Chair at Columbia High School in Maplewood
This
year the New Jersey Symphony Orchestra once again sponsored an
academically challenging outreach program in conjunction with its
Winter Festival - The Dvorák
Centenary: Inspiring America. The
Festival outreach program was first initiated by Larry Tamburri,
former NJSO Executive Director, and Mark Yolleck, former Fine Arts
Director for the South Orange and Maplewood School District.
The program has been in effect for the last five years and
is organized each year by Joseph Horowitz, NJSO Winter Festival
Consultant, and Maria Araujo, NJSO Vice President for Education
and Community Programs. In
addition to the NJSO, the National Endowment for the Humanities,
the New Jersey Council for the Humanities, the Marilyn Horne Foundation,
and the Newark Museum also played important roles in the sponsorship
of this program.
The New Jersey Symphony Orchestra’s Dvorák Festival this
past January was the focus of this year’s study.
Planning began in December as supervisors from the Newark
and South Orange/Maplewood school systems met with Joseph
Horowitz and festival participants to plan this year’s student
involvement and activities. The teachers were introduced to a variety of
resources that would be made available to the students. Visits by festival participants were also arranged
at these initial meetings.
Columbia High School social studies teacher
Jay Gavitt worked with
his US History students as they explored Antonin
Dvorák’s role in American music.
Music teacher Peg
Roberts had a number of her orchestra students participate
in the festival. Other students from South Orange Middle School also participated.
After the students had agreed to participate in the program,
a separate site was set up on Columbia High School’s Social Studies
Department website. This provided students with a schedule of events
and performances as well as assignments and links to resources.
Students began the festival activities and their exploration
of Dvorák by reading Joseph Horowitz’ Dvorák
in America. This historical fiction was the students’ introduction
and served as the focus for the classroom visit by Dr. Horowitz. Following each of these students wrote down
their reactions. Some form
the basis of the student contributions which appear in this issue.
In addition to Dr. Horowitz’s visits, Dvorák scholars Dr.
Robert Winter and
Dr. Michael Beckerman
also came to our classes.
Robert Winter is Professor of Music at
UCLA. e is a leader in creating
interactive software on musical topics.
His work has included the development of CD-ROMS on Ragtime,
Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony, Stravinsky’s The
Rite of Spring, Mozart’s “Dissonant” String Quartet, and most
recently Dvorák’s Symphony no. 9, “From the New World.”
On his first visit he explained and demonstrated the resources
available on his new DVD. Stations were set up in the library and social
studies lab for students to access the DVD.
Michael Beckerman is Professor of Music
at NYU. He is the leading
American scholar on Dvorák. His
most recent publication, New Worlds of Dvorák: Searching in America
for the Composer’s Inner Life became a valuable resource for
the students. He lectures throughout the United States and
Europe and writes for the New
York Times. Dr. Beckerman shared his interest in Czech music
and his most recent research on Dvorák with the students during
his visit.
An important character in the study of Dvorák’s stay in
America is the African-American singer Harry
Burleigh. As part of the study of this pivotal figure,
the students met with Mrs.
Grace Blackwell, Harry Burleigh’s niece.
In preparation for her visit, the students researched Burleigh’s
connection to Dvorák and developed questions for their interview
with her. This gave them an opportunity to review and
practice their oral history techniques.
Each student wrote a personal letter of thanks to Mrs. Blackwell,
and they were all delivered to her.
There was a series of exciting performances which the students
attended. The first was the Festival’s “Interplay” at
the Newark Museum on
January 24th. This was followed by a dinner and student discussions
with students from both Newark and South Orange/Maplewood. These were facilitated by members of the New
Jersey Symphony Orchestra.
The day came to a close with the NJSO’s performance of Dvorák’s Symphony no. 9, “From the New World.” The following week members of the Orchestra’s
string section came to Columbia High School to talk to the classes
and perform Dvorák’s “American
Quartet.”
Students were required to develop
and complete a research project on “Dvorák in America.” These were selected from a variety of National
History Day formats. The
projects ranged from research papers and exhibits to documentaries
and interpretive dance performances.
Each required the student to create a detailed summary of
the research and the main sources used.
The projects have been assessed by the Board of Trustees
of the Durand Hedden House in Maplewood using the National History
Day criteria.
Student
Resources:
Aaron, Daniel, editor (2002).
The Song of Hiawatha by Henry Wadsworth
Longfellow. Everyman.
Beckerman, Michael B. (2003). New Worlds
of Dvorák: Searching in America for the Composer’s
Inner Life. Norton, New York.
Brooklyn Philharmonic. Dvorák: New World
Symphony. (Videotape)
Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show. The Old
Army Press. (Videotape)
Horowitz, Joseph (2003). Dvorák in America:
In Search of the New World.
Cricket Books, Chicago.
New Jersey Symphony Orchestra (2002). Dvorák
Requiem; Symphony no. 9 “From the New World”.
Delos. (CD)
Pacific Symphony Orcestra: Dvorák: American
String Quartet; and Dvorák/Beckerman: Hiawatha
Melodrama. (CD)
Winter, Robert and Bogdanoff, Peter (2004).
From the New World: A Celebrated Composer’s
American Odyssey. (DVD)
and
Direct Testimony website.
|
Learning
about Antonin Dvorák
by Claire Hyman and Harrison “Alex” King
Claire
Hyman and Alex King are both 11th graders at Columbia High School
in Maplewood.
They are students in Mr. Jay Gavitt’s US History class which participated
in the Dvorák Festival.
Over
the past couple of months, we have had several guest speakers come
in to help us achieve a greater understanding of American musical
history. Focusing primarily on composer Antonin Dvorák, we have
gained a thorough understanding of all facets of his life and his
impact on America. No speaker repeated the points of another, and
through numerous sessions, we have been able to go farther than
the typical textbook’s information. Mr. Gavitt and Mr. Horowitz
arranged for guest teachers of such prestige, that we knew our
history class would benefit tremendously, expanding not only in
knowledge, but in the respect of other students and teaches as
well. Each presenter held a unique place in the program, ranging
from authors to professors to a descendent of Harry Burleigh, one
of the subjects of our inquiry. The similarity among all
our guests was an immense love for music and for those who have
helped that music thrive.
__________________________________________________________
Responses
to Joseph Horowitz
We
started our study by reading Dvorák in America. The author
then paid a visit to our history class where he shared his knowledge
and experiences pertaining to classical music and artists. He did
an excellent job as he told us of Dvorák, a man hardly known to
American history students, and brought him into our classroom.
It was enjoyable to ask Mr. Horowitz questions and to get answers
that perhaps no one else could offer.
He attacked the tradition of teaching young people only
about Mozart, Beethoven, and Bach by introducing us to the person
he called the “founder” of American music. He elaborated on things
that weren’t explained in depth throughout the book, such as Harry
Burleigh’s relationship with Dvorák. Mr. Horowitz also introduced
us to some of the lesser-known names in American musical history
like Wagnerian conductor Anton Seidl as well as the famous American
composer Stephen Foster. Mr. Horowitz described Dvorák
in America as historical fiction. He told us that he didn’t
do all of his own research for the book but instead borrowed ideas
and words from prior research and books written by fellow authors.
In fact, much of the dialogue and letters in the book came from
Mr. Horowitz’s imagination. He further described how he was able
to create a believable order of events and actions to guide us
through the story. The book provided entertaining and interesting
topics, while at the same time implanting valuable information.
The fictional aspect of the novel did not detract from its importance
or credibility, especially because Mr. Horowitz answered every
question that was asked with great assurance.
The class discussion temporarily went off the subject of
Dvorák in America while Mr. Horowitz compared it to another book
he had written titled Wagner Nights. He seemed more
proud of this piece because he did all of his own research and
it covered more than just one artist’s life. In addition, we were
shown a book written by Michael Beckerman, entitled New
Worlds of Dvorák: Searching in America for the Composer’s Inner
Life. By the end of class, the time spent proved to
be very gratifying and rewarding. The most interesting question
posed by us in our discussions was “Why do students hear of composers
such as Mozart and Beethoven, but almost no one hears of Dvorák?”
While this question cannot be answered definitely, it paves the
way for lessons about Dvorák in classrooms around the nation in
the future.
__________________________________________________________
Responses
to Dr. Robert Winter
During
today’s class, we were pleased to meet yet another admirable speaker.
Dr. Robert Winter was kind enough to visit our history class and
share with us his obvious passion for the history of music and
culture. His loose demeanor and relaxed attitude allowed him to
deliver an excellent presentation about Dvorák. From the minute
he walked into the classroom, you could tell he was a college professor.
We were impressed by his eccentric energy and obvious pleasure
in sharing with students his discoveries and knowledge of Dvorák.
He discussed the importance of the African-American impact
on music today. He added that there was an initial negative reaction
in areas across the nation such as Boston when Dvorák claimed this
importance and acted upon it by threading African-American influences
into his compositions. Before Dvorak’s introduction to America,
we were already seeking an “American” music. Today, we are thankful
for his visit.
Dvorák did not resemble the average American by any means;
he was from the margins of Europe and had a very “swarthy” complexion.
While he took some criticism, Dvorák was certainly accepted and
treasured by Americans for his brilliant music.
Dr. Winter stressed the fact that music has permanent permeability,
as it doesn’t matter who you are as long as you make music that
people will enjoy. He mentioned that, consciously or not, music
teaches all of us who listen a great deal and may provide a great
impact on who we will become in the future.
Dr. Winter taught us about Dvorák using the latest technology.
As a teaching aid, his employment of a DVD helped all types of
learners in our class. In today’s digital age, learning and appreciating
different kinds of music was thus made even easier. Dr. Winter
demonstrated this as we gathered around his laptop computer to
view the cursor “reading” a musical score as it was being played.
By highlighting exactly what we were hearing at the moment we found
it to be an extremely helpful and remarkable program.
Although Dr. Winter came to speak with us on the subject
of Dvorák, we found his most valuable contribution to be his personal
level of research, especially with our own projects and research
deadlines rapidly approaching. We noted that he found a subject
he was interested in and stuck with it, digging deeper into the
topic as the students contributed additional questions. He was
relentless in his search and this model was helpful in developing
our own research plans. Dr. Winter provided genuine examples of
scholarly work and provided a very beneficial experience of researching
in the digital age.
Dr. Winter visited our class again a couple of weeks later
and met with each of us individually to help us identify sources
for our Dvorák research projects. This visit was invaluable because
we were able to explore resources that are unavailable to anyone
yet. He also set up a data resource bank in our computer.
__________________________________________________________
Responses
to Michael Beckerman
After
sharing our class period with Dr. Beckerman, it was evident that
he was the real expert on Dvorák. Our class seemed interested in
Harry Burleigh, since we would be meeting his niece, Grace Blackwell,
later in the week. Dr. Beckerman’s expertise in the field of Dvorák
studies allowed us to learn about what Harry Burleigh was like
and how he and his niece influenced each other. To start things
off, Dr. Beckerman wrote on the board, “How do we know what we
think we know, and how do we come to know it?”
Our initial reaction was confusion, as the wording seemed
redundant. But after reading the question over again, it proved
to be very thought-provoking, and Dr. Beckerman began to explore
this with the class. He told us to always question what we learn,
especially information on the past. History is a series of memories
and experiences, not just things written in a book. This is probably
one of the reasons people like Dr. Beckerman have a fascination
with Dvorák. They experience the music and, as Dr. Beckerman says,
people think they know Dvorák but some people like Dr. Beckerman
are continually asking, “How do we come to know?” The process of
knowing is always ongoing.
Dr. Beckerman asked us to write about an event that happened
yesterday. We discovered through our discussions that we had left
out a great deal of information. With this being true, it is impossible
for any textbook to be 100% accurate. The statement, for example,
“In the 1780s Romanians felt that … is ridiculous when you try to finish the sentence.
It is impossible to generalize and still hold any significance
to the purpose of history. He
suggested to us that “when investigating the past, doubt everything.”
I will remember this lesson for a long time.
Dr. Beckerman showed great passion and excitement about
what he was doing. One question led to another and he enjoyed moving
from one idea to the next, often thinking out loud. When asked
if he had any insight as to why Dvorák chose Longfellow’s The Song of Hiawatha as the basis for some
of his American compositions, Dr. Beckerman took at least fifteen
minutes to answer. He covered the notions of innovation, marketing,
stimulation, competition, nationalism, and pleasure in all of his
answers to this question. He was intellectual and offered us his
vast experience and knowledge. Of all the speakers, Dr. Beckerman
may have been my favorite because of his ability to keep me enthralled
with what he was saying as well as provide me with original ideas
on success and history. Dr. Beckerman’s visit was very informative
and helped immensely in gaining an understanding of history.
__________________________________________________________
Sample
letter to Gracee Blackwell, Harry Burleigh's niece after her visit
to our class
Dear Mrs. Blackwell,
It was a pleasure meeting you on Friday, January 9th. Our
class has been given the opportunity to meet previous speakers,
but meeting you proved to be a very unique experience. We have
been discussing the history of Dvorák, with a good portion devoted
to understanding the impact on his compositions provided by your
uncle, Harry Burleigh.
It was very interesting to hear such an influential character
in history referred to as “Uncle Harry”. Hearing you speak of him
provided a very special knowledge. Nowhere else would we be able
to access information about the specifics of his personality, personal
incidents, or conversations. Your description of him as being very
kind and thoughtful was made even clearer by adding that he would
tip his hat to everyone he met. You told us that he was always
very spiffy, being sure to wear a complete outfit everywhere. He
seems to have treated you very well, and I got the impression that
you two shared a very special relationship.
It must have been remarkable to have someone to do everything
for you that was desired or needed, such as being taken to plays
or buying that $30 coat. He made otherwise impossible incidents
feasible, such as meeting Ethel Waters backstage at Cabin
in the Sky, seeing Porgy and Bess at least 100 times, witnessing
Tommy Dorsey at the Paramount, and many other treats. Just the
fact that despite Harry’s dislike for jazz he took you to a jazz
performance and attempted to enjoy it displays his great love for
you.
While an extremely painful experience for you both, losing
your father may have brought you and your uncle even closer. You
quoted him as saying, “You know why I love you, you are just like
your father S”, and while losing him was described as “losing my
left arm”, Harry likely treasured your connection even more greatly
at that point.
We had never before encountered any description of Harry’s
failing as his health began to deteriorate and his mind worsened.
Hearing such a personal recollection of the situation had a great
impact, especially combined with the specific recollection of him
darting across the street, later being found after giving out money
to everyone he encountered. As he was transferred to a hospital
in Stamford, Connecticut, you began to lose your Uncle Harry, yet
the appreciation probably grew. Old age provides many tragedies
like this though it was very special to hear you speak of it so
confidently. It was a gift to be shown your pictures of him composing
and later to have you entertain all sorts of questions regarding
him. You stressed the fact that Harry made you a very decent and
caring person, which is evident in even such a short meeting with
you.
Our appreciation for the knowledge and stories you offered
our class is indescribable and we hope the class time was as enjoyable
for you as it was for us. This is an experience we will surely
recall for years to come. We are honored that you chose Columbia
High School to visit and share your special memories with us. Thank
you so much for a momentous afternoon.
____________________________________
Our
hands-on studies of Dvorák and his work culminated in three special
events. The first event was held at the Newark Museum. It included
an afternoon of music, discussion, and an audio/visual presentation
that focused on Dvorák. All the speakers who had visited our class
either participated in some way or were there to listen to what
was being said and played. Mrs. Blackwell was there and we were
able to present her with our letters and pictures from her visit.
We experienced a wide variety of Dvorak’s music starting
with the Sonatina in G Minor played by Eric Wyrick,
concert master of the NJSO, and pianist Radoslav Kvapil. One of
the most interesting and enjoyable parts of the performance was
Michael Beckerman’s Hiawatha
Melodrama. A *melodrama is creating words that coincide with
a piece of music giving it structured life and something that you
can grasp, creating lyrics in a sense. We also viewed a wonderful
art and music presentation by Timothy Barringer. A discussion by
all the participants followed.
Next, we proceeded to the a meeting room at the New Jersey
Performing Arts Center to eat a pizza dinner and participate in
a most interesting part of the evening. We separated into small
groups consisting of members of the NJSO, students from Malcolm X. Shabazz High School in Newark,
and ourselves to discuss the music. When asked such questions as
“Who has music made you?” students responded with a wide variety
of ideas. Along with learning about ourselves we learned from each
other and formed friendships with students from Shabazz.
After dinner we made our way to the Prudential Hall at NJPAC
and listened to Dvorak’s Piano Concerto in G minor followed by
an intermission. After the intermission we heard what we had been
listening to and talking about for the past month and a half, the
peak of our journey, the Symphony no. 9 in E minor (“From the New
World”). We had heard it before on the DVD. However, this
was the first time we heard it live. The hall took on a special
atmosphere as we were able to relate the performance to the personalities
we had come into contact with in our studies. This was a new, interesting,
and enlightening experience for all of us.
____________________________________
After
the events of January 24th we continued our study of Dvorák and
his music when a string quartet from the NJSO came to Columbia
H. S. to play Dvorák’s “American Quartet”. This was a particularly
interesting piece because it resembled movie music in a big way,
something we could all relate to. This brought Dvorák to life today.
The quartet included Hector Falcon, violin 1; Judy
Lin Wu, violin 2; Henry
Kao, viola; and Jason
Lipman, cello. They discussed Dvorak’s music from performers’
perspectives.
Brahmsian
cabala
Dvorák at his finest
Saturday, July 10, 2004
By Paul M. Somers
Access
to Art. Mondrian Ensemble: Michael Ludwig (violin), Anna Maria
Ahn Petersen (viola), John Koen (cello), Aurelia Mika Chang
(piano). Brahms: Viola Sonata in E-flat, op. 120, no. 2; Anthony
G. Holland: B-R-A-H-M-S Piano Quartet; Dvorák: Piano Quartet
in E-flat major, op. 87. Our Lady of the Angels R. C. Church,
Cape May Court House.
Anthony
G. Holland, a composer on the faculty of Skidmore College
in Saratoga Springs in up-state New York, has composed an
effective if strange work. Its title is B-R-A-H-M-S Piano
Quartet, and with all those capital letters and hyphens crying
out for notice on the page it is no surprise to note that
the titles of the six movements are an acrostic for the eponymous
composer. Each one of the six is worth a paragraph or two,
but it is worth saying that it is a work which might be better
served by making the Brahms connection - sometimes quite tenuous
- a palimpsest lying under the expressive surface. The reason
is simple: it causes confusion at times and limits the listener
too much. Holland’s musical palette is so broad and so interesting
that being trapped into a game of “what has this to do with
Brahms?” may get in the way.
The mixed messages began right away with “Barcarole
Buffo”, a very melodic piece with great solos for violist
Anna Maria Ahn Petersen and cellist John Koen.
It alternated between the rocking meter of a sea-chanty-like
tune and a fast dance in two beats. But, other than the near
quote of the famous Lullaby in the last few bars, what
had it to do with Brahms? He wrote no barcaroles, was not
known for his affection for the sea, and certainly never quoted
sea-chanties. Chopin would have made more sense. Divorced
from the Brahms connection it was a brilliant piece of work.
“Rondo Remenyi” evokes Brahms’ friendship with violinist
Eduard Remenyi who introduced him to gypsy music. Here the
relationship of music and subject is real, out-gypsying the
finale of Brahms’ own Piano Quartet in G major. This was rip-roaring
stuff. The only ineffective segment was the attempt
to imitate the *cimbalom by drawing the teeth of a comb over
strings in the piano. It ought to work, but it did not on
this occasion. The violin playing of Michael Ludwig
(associate concertmaster of the Philadelphia Orchestra) was
impressively virtuosic.
“Animierlokale” (literally “encouragement locations”,
but meaning brothels) was a trip into the psyche of Brahms,
who as a youngster helped the family income by playing piano
in Hamburg brothels. Eerie whistling by the violist inside
the piano could have been effective, but she didn’t get close
enough to the sound board and it didn’t look as if pianist
Aurelia Mike Chang had the pedal down far enough to allow
the vibrations to echo. When actual string playing took over,
it was filled with nervous *sul ponticello playing and other
strange sounds accompanying the whistled tune (a style of
Viennese saloon music) now played with *harmonics. Given the
brothel setting one rather expected that it could branch out
into a Jack-the Ripper scene. But we were held in check by
the program.
“Hamburg Hoquetus” (*hocket) was an odd title, since
it bore little resemblance to what followed. Hocket is a rather
specific effect associated in early music with *cadence figures
and later, most notably in late Beethoven string quartets,
with the playing of pairs (or more) of notes sounding like
a single line melody but played by at least two instruments
alternating. Only in the Presto of the C-sharp minor Quartet
do the melodic tones jump from instrument to instrument one
at a time, and this is for comic effect. But Mr. Holland is
not trying for comedy or even wit. The movement becomes post-Bartók
and quite intense.
“Musical Cabala” was perhaps most frustrating, if only
through lack of information. It is known that Brahms and Schumann
(and many others in history) used the letters of names and
mottos to make musical motives. German is especially fruitful
for this, since H is what we call B and B is what we call
B-flat, and S is “Es” which is to say E-flat in German. But
what to do with the other *15 or 17 letters of the alphabet?
All this lies behind the musical spelling of C-L-A-R-A and
other names as well featuring letters well beyond the scope
of A-H and S. Holland says he uses all the known Brahmsian
names as the material for the movement, but recognizing them
as they show up was impossible because they were not presented
and/or explained. Cabala indeed!
The piece itself, aside from all the extra-musical
trappings, proved to be pleasant, a relief from the intensities
of the previous two movements. The *codetta using harmonics
3, 4, 5, and 6 as thematic material was effective if enigmatic.
The final “Scherzo Schumannia” was a depiction of the
busy Schumann family, with whom Brahms was close. Again in
a post-Bartókian language, it was rip-roaring and rambunctious,
driving all players to the edge in the final pages. It was
greeted with cheers and long loud applause.
But I have a feeling it would have been greeted with
just as much applause had it been called something less specific
like “Portraits” or “Six Scenes” or some such.
The concert concluded with Dvorâk’s most often played
piano quartet, the one in E-flat, op. 87. The Mondrian’s energy
flowed into the audience, where even kids were quite taken
with the experience. John Koen (another Philadelphia Orchestra
member) was eloquent in his solo in the “Lento”, and the “Grazioso”
fully lived up to its appellation, even in the exotic B section
with its melody using *augmented seconds and *Lydian mode.
The concert began with a performance of Brahms’ Viola
Sonata in E-flat, originally for clarinet. Anna Maria Ahn
Petersen (yes, a Philadelphia Orchestra member) produced lush
and shapely playing, but pianist Chang seemed ill at ease
with the work. She never produced a large sound to match the
“appassionato” marking and at one point actually was bested
by the technical demands and dropped her right hand out. To
be sure, I have heard this piece more than any other cause
pianists to falter, so Ms. Chang is just another in a list.
But given the fine playing she exhibited during the remainder
of the evening it was surprising in retrospect that she gave
so little and struggled so much with the composer around whom
the concert was based.
Falling
into obsession
Landing in destruction
Monday, July 12 through Thursday, July 15, 2004
By Paul M. Somers
Westminster Choir College of Rider University. “Fin de sičcle German
Lied.” Tory Browers, Courtenay Budd, Margaret Cusack, Aurora Micu,
Sarah Pelletier (sopranos); Abigail Nims (mezzo-soprano); Anthony
Beck, Randall Scarlata (baritones); J. J. Penna (piano); Lindsay
Christiansen, Sarah Youens (lecturers). Bristol Chapel, Princeton.
A
distressing journey of the European soul found its penultimate
expression on the face of soprano
Sarah Pelletier as the four-event exploration of turn-of-the-20th-century
Viennese *Lieder came
to its conclusion. Her blond good looks, to some eyes the epitome
of a certain Germanic stereotype, were stricken: dark eyebrows
pulled together over eyes looking out at some undefined horizon
with bemusement soon to turn to Angst.
The mini-festival
had begun with her singing “Auch kleine Dinge können uns entzücken”
(Even small things may delight us) from Hugo Wolf’s Italienisches Liederbuch. But in four short days we had come to the
final lines of proto-Nazi Stefan George’s poem “Wir bevölkerten
die abend-düstern Lauben” (We inhabited the evening-darkened arbors)
in Arnold Schönberg’s *pan-tonal setting which ends with “Palm
fronds with their pointed fingers stab me. Rotten leaves’ hissing
clusters chase unsure hands back outside to Eden’s faded walls.
The night is cloud-covered and fearful.”
Within five years
the cataclysms which rocked the world in the 20th century began.
Emerging in that final song from Schönberg’s Das Buch
der hängenden Gärten (The book of the hanging gardens) at pianist
J. J. Penna’s insistence was the same musical motive which some
20 years later Schönberg’s disciple Alban Berg would use for the
words “Wir armen Leute” (We poor people) in Wozzeck. If
there was one thing to be taken from the four-evening event it
was this journey into the world of “we poor people”, a world of
visibly decaying romanticism collapsing into the myopia of artistic
and political monomanias. The various texts chosen by four of the
six composers included in this exploration - Wolf, Zemlinsky, Schönberg,
and Berg - often touch on neuroses focusing on a beloved of some
sort. The poet, and thus the composer who chose the text, loses
touch with outside reality as only the inward fixation becomes
real. It is worth noting that the two composers whose early songs
were uniformly optimistic, rejecting death and despair as solutions
to unhappiness in love, (at least as presented in this series of
concerts) are the two most currently popular of the six: Strauss
and Mahler.
The performances
by a select group of singers were uniformly first-rate. One would,
of course, hope that this would be so at a singing institution
like Westminster Choir College, but large-voiced soloists do not
often good choristers make, nor is the opposite true. And these
singers to a person had voices which overwhelmed Bristol Chapel,
sometimes to the point of distressing sonic distortion.
My favorite musical
experiences (in chronological order of their appearance):
۰(Monday)
Wolf’s complete Italienisches Liederbuch presented like
concert opera with relationships between the male and female “characters”
well defined by baritone Randall Scarlatta and soprano Pelletier.
This manner of presentation revealed the overall dramatic shape
of the cycle as well as the inner life of each song. At times it
was quite serious, particularly the male songs. But the audience
also had a good laugh or two as they recognized the truths in the
reactions of the singers as they sang or listened.
۰
(Tuesday) Pelletier’s vivid and sympathetic unfolding of the heart
of each of the four Mädchenblumen (Girls characterized as
flowers), particularly “Mohnblumen” (Poppies) which is the closest
to the mature Straussian style.
۰
(Tuesday) Mezzo-soprano Abigail Nims’ ability to “sell” each song,
be it one of the six of Mahler’s *Lieder und Gesänge aus der
Jugendzeit (Songs from Youth) or on Wednesday a song by Wolf.
Her eyes sparkled and her whole body was engaged in the presentation
of the Mahler songs without going over the top and becoming “too
much”. Vocally, she (the only mezzo to sing in the series) was
utterly reliable and in control. She received well-deservedcheers
at the end of her Mahler.
۰
(Wednesday) Soprano Tory Brower’s luminous shift from the dark
beginning of Wolf’s “In der Frühe” (At daybreak) to the morning
section was hair-raisingly evocative singing.
۰
(Thursday) Ms. Brower’s deliciously perverse way with four of the
songs from Schönberg’s Brettl-Lieder (*Cabaret songs). The
double-entendre texts received their full measure without becoming
salacious: certainly the naďve amongst us would not have understood
the goings on fully. But there seemed to be few, if any, of that
sort present. It was great fun, got laughs, and finally cheers.
That these were my favorites does not reflect on the abilities
of the other participants so much as it reflects my own musical
preferences. Certainly soprano Aurora Micu tackled the Zemlinsky
Maeterlinck songs with all the musicality and energy she could
bring to them. But both music and poetry are overly dense and drown
in their own obscurity.
Certainly soprano Margaret Cusack did as fine a performance
of Schönberg’s four op. 2 songs as one could. But hearing this
early music by him, at least for those of us who know where his
music went later, becomes more of a game of identifying where he
came from. Ms. Cusack and Mr. Penna allowed us to revel
in all those Wagnerian *9th chords and chord progressions lifted
right out of Tristan und Isolde. Ultimately the music was
not about singing so much as it was about certain words which define
Schönberg’s esthetic at that time: “glitzeblanken” (bright glittering),
“wühlenden” (scrabbling around), and “flittern” (flickering), for
this is what he gives to the accompaniment, just as he uses the
same pictorialisms in his more famous Verklärte Nacht for
string sextet.
In the Hängenden Gärten Budd’s proto-*Sprechstimme
was immediately gripping, but the technique never again surfaced
in the cycle’s subsequent songs. To be sure, this is op. 15 from
1909, and the sine qua non of Sprechstimme is Pierrot Lunaire,
op. 21 from 1921, so there is distance to travel between the two,
including not only Schönberg’s final coup-de-grace of tonality
(history has shown that it really wasn’t), but also the destruction
of the Austro-Hungarian Empire (which really was). But the immediate
use of the distinctive Sprechstimme technique created an artistic
promise which then went undelivered. We cannot but wonder how effective
Sprechstimme would have been in “Sprich nicht immer” (Speak
not always) with its textual denial of normal expression.
It was a great contrast to the exclusively female singers
on Tuesday and Wednesday evenings to hear baritone Anthony Beck
assay Berg’s four op. 2 songs. His ability to spit out the consonants
no doubt sounded exaggerated to him and to those of us in the first
three rows, but there was no quarreling with the clarity of his
enunciation, and those farther away did not hear him as overdone.
Someone should have corrected his “Hörch”, for the imperative of
“horchen” (to listen) is “Horch” as written in the text we were
all given. I noticed that while I recognized the fault mentally,
the German native sitting next to me winced.
Each of the three concerts (Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday)
was preceded by a pre-concert lecture of great scholarship, the
first two by Lindsay Christiansen of the Westminster faculty. Wednesday’s
event was a full-blown lecture by the eminent Susan Youens of Notre
Dame, a historian of the Lied and its culture. She stayed on and
did the pre-concert honors on Thursday evening.
In all cases the pre-concert lectures were informative expositions
of the evening’s music, describing the forces surrounding the poets
and composers in detail. There was never any question about the
soil in which the creative seed has been sown.
Honors went by design to Ms. Youens and her deep scholarship.
She is certainly one of the most engaging of lecturers. Her topic
was “Divine Möricke: a Poet and His Composer” in which she explored
in depth the relationship of Hugo Wolf to his favorite poet. Without
recapitulating her lecture (perhaps the text can be made available
to those interested), it must be said that it was just what a listener
could really use. Rather than a cumbersome “what it’s all about”
kind of thing - the mistake of most high school English teaching
- she went down John Ciardi’s path and told us again and again
how a poem or setting worked. We were allowed to hear her
views on the effectiveness of the poet’s diction and tone. We heard
her slightly technical descriptions of how Wolf captured those
poetic nuances. Her own turns of phrase were elegant and witty;
describing Berg on Thursday as producing “vagrant *French sixths”
in “Schlafend trägt man mich in mein Heimatland” got a real laugh
from the musically educated audience, though music-lovers without
the technical background doubtless wondered what the rest were
laughing at.
Her background description of Viennese culture during the
period of about 1880-1910 was revelatory to many and gave all a
solid background not only for the concerts themselves but for understanding
the prevailing culture of that pivotal piece of history.
No wonder that Ms. Pelletier, playing her character to the
hilt in that penultimate expression of European expressionist anxiety,
stood looking out over the audience at the conclusion of the whole
series, holding them rapt as her face asked “what is next?” while
we with the irony of history knew the ultimate act - World War
I and its dreadful Treaty of Versailles and the subsequent rise
of Hitler and World War II. It was, indeed, as Dickens put it in
speaking of a century before, “the best of times” and “the worst
of times” with, as Wilfred Owens put it, the killing of “half the
seed of Europe, one by one” rather than the drop of the guillotine.
We knew already as we looked back at the singer that in our own
time we may all still wonder if we, too, sense we live in a time
“outside … Eden’s faded walls”, a night “cloud-covered and fearful.”
Unusual
sympathetic characters
Asbury
Park: it ain’t all “The Boss”
Saturday,
July 17, 2004
By Robert W. Butts
Don
Giovanni by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart and Lorenzo da Ponte; Anton
Coppola, conductor; James Lucas, stage director; Tobert Stivanello,
costumes/scenery; with Armando Mora (Don Giovanni), Ronald Naldi
(Don Ottavio), Kelly Cae Hogan (Donna Anna), Coral Owden (Donna
Elvira), Maureen Francis (Zerlina), Sam Smith (Leporello), John
Schumaker (Commendatore), Ken Overton (Masetto). Presented by The
Metro Lyric Opera at the Paramount Theatre, Asbury Park.
It
might be because there are so many highly individualized characters
that Mozart's Don Giovanni
rarely fails to provide intellectual stimulation as well as musical
enjoyment. The Don's character, personality and masculine success
- or, as in the actual course of the opera, lack thereof - have
been analyzed and viewed from every conceivable perspective. But,
as was the case with the Metro Lyric Opera production at the Paramount
Theatre in Asbury Park, every performance seems to bring out new
facets of the opera and its characters.
In many ways, how one views Giovanni the person is determined
as much by the subtle musical and dramatic portrayals of one or
all of the six other cast members, all important. There is no minor
comprimario role in the opera. All it takes is one singer or one
stage direction to bring about a new way of looking at everybody
and rethinking just what Mozart and librettist Lorenzo da Ponte
actually intended audiences to feel about the people (there are
no cardboard characters) they so skillfully placed within what
they themselves termed a “drama giocosa.”
While every lead in the production was superb, two in particular
stood out in transforming their roles into something at least a
little different than expected.
Tenor Ronald Naldi was as good a Don Ottavio as one could
hope to find. With lustrous tones, he molded every phrase of his
two gorgeous arias with consummate artistry, raising each from
the level of great song to that of unforgettable aria. More, though,
Naldi brought emotional depth and integrity to a character often
played more as a wimp who just happens to have a beautiful voice
in order to sing two beautiful arias. His dramatic impact is, more
often than not, limited. Naldi made Don Ottavio's devotion something
deep and wonderfully contrasting to the superficial sexuality of
the title character.
Here was an Ottavio one could believe could actually take
charge and accomplish whatever he believed would be right. This
then made Donna Anna's dismissal of his attention at opera's end
- so she could properly spend time in grieving - seem as cold and
insensitive as did Giovanni's obsession with conquests. One often
sympathizes with Anna's grief and wonders what she really might
see in her timid fiancée anyway. With Naldi as Ottavio, however,
one wonders what he really saw in her and wouldn't have blamed
him if, after being told to wait, he sought more attentive pastures
himself.
Equally
interesting was Coral Owden's portrayal of Donna Elvira, again
through a dramatic and vocal approach somewhat at odds with the
norm. Frequently, the "wronged woman" is depicted as
hysterical, deranged, shrewish, annoying or some combination of
related descriptives. Owden instead took a comparatively gentle
approach S at least, as gentle as Mozart's often agitated music
would allow. Rather than come across as a woman hell-bent on revenge
and spitefully eager to thwart Giovanni's escapades, Owden's Elvira
became a woman who, despite being terribly hurt, cared deeply about
a man she recognized as suffering a real addictive problem. This
led listeners to reconsider Giovanni's actions as well, seeing
them as part of a flawed character rather than those of an oversexed
braggart.
Owden's singing was excellent whether in solo or ensemble,
but it was her sympathetic development of the character that caused
one to really think more about precisely what was unfolding on
stage.
Armando Mora was a swashbuckling Giovanni, singing and acting
with appealing bravado and confidence. Moving easily on stage while
seeming to sing effortlessly