Archive for the 'The Music' Category

Conductor Thierry Fischer in Columbus

Thierry Fischer, Principal Conductor of the BBC National Orchestra of Wales and also Chief Conductor of the Nagoya Philharmonic, conducts Debussy”s Nocturnes, Frank’s D minor Symphony and Ravel this weekend with the Columbus Symphony.

Stewart Goodyear
plays Ravel’s Piano Concerto in D Major for the Left Hand, a fantastical miniature concerto with scintillating orchestration.

Fischer is notably a fellow woodwind player, having held, among other positions around Europe, the title of Principal Flute under Claudio Abbado with the multiple award winning Chamber Orchestra of Europe.

His conducting mentor is Nicolaus Harnoncourt, whom he seemed to follow throughout his career as a musician, from the Zurick Opera to the Chamber Orchestra of Europe. (where Harnoncourt garnered DG’s Record of the Year award for a recording of Beethoven 9 Symphonies, though I don’t know if Fischer played)

Harnoncourt’s website quotes him saying “Art is not a nice extra – it is the umbilical cord which connects us to the Divine, it guarantees our being human.”

I can see Harnoncourt’s influence in Fisher’s conducting style. From the moment he began rehearsing with us yesterday, he seemed incredibly focused on moving beyond the technique of playing to the essence of making music. Yet he never, ever relinquished his insistence on accuracy of dynamics, articulation, phrasing and balance.

He refused to let us play anything beyond the literal dynamics, especially in Debussy’s Nocturnes, where transparent textures ARE the music. It took us awhile to get used to playing so softly, but once we did, the hushed music came to life.

The boom on our stage makes playing at those delicate dynamics risky, not because they won’t be heard, but because one spoil sport can ruin it by creating a domino effect of booming sound. It takes great discipline to continually control our volume on such a boomy stage. Let’s hope we remember to override our “survival of he loudest” instincts tomorrow night.

Fischer’s background as a woodwind player was evident in the constructive comments he made to the winds and brass, often suggesting we use “more support” in the articulation, or to “project with support rather than volume”.

His general demeanor reflected his elegant European background. I don’t ever remember a conductor who was able to single out individual musicians for criticism without causing personal offense. Yet his deferential tone didn’t prevent him from chiding, with just a hint of irony, whole sections of the orchestra for failing to note a suggestion made to another section. In other words, despite politeness, he meant business.

His sincere desire to serve the music served him well in gaining the full respect (at least from my point of view) of the musicians.

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Ethereal Rutter Requiem at FCC

I enjoyed playing, hearing and seeing the beautiful music and dancing at today’s Lent Requiem service at First Community Church in Dublin, OH.

Ron Jenkins, Music Minister at FCC, plans regular music services throughout the year, and always hires a small, full orchestra for the occasion, many members of which are also full time or part time members of the Columbus Symphony.

As many of you know, Ron, who is Choir Master of the Columbus Symphony Chorus, also maintains a high quality choir at FCC.

The music was John Rutter’s Requiem, with the FCC chancel choir and boy soprano Joseph Kingery. The danced movements were choreographed by Susan Hadley, with dancers from the Columbus Dance Theater, Tim Veach, Artistic Director. Solo dance was by Amelia Larkin.

Joseph Kingery sang his parts beautifully, with pure pitch and perfect, sweet tone. He is in seventh grade at the Columbus Academy. Apparently Joe also studies oboe.

Rutter’s music always amazes me with it’s effortless style and beauty. It never fails to touch me deeply. Some may consider it corny, as I have in the past, but now I marvel at how well written every part is, how well balanced the orchestra and choir parts are, and how rich with songful melody it is.

I remember doing this Requiem a few years back with the same wonderful choreography. My favorite part then, and again today, is in the last movement, Lux Aeterna, when the dancers lift each other up in turn, as if helping them upwards toward the Eternal Light, both physically and metaphorically. The combination of ethereal, peaceful music and the way these dancers so gracefully lifted each other up is really stunning, and I get choked up even as I think of it now.

Music and dance have such cathartic power. It is always a pleasure to play these services, which show the deep connection between healing and music and, in today’s case, dance.

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CSO Concert, March 14

I was able to stay for the second half tonight to hear Mozart’s “Jupiter” Symphony, and after hearing the orchestra play in the Palace Theater, I have to agree with Barbara Zuck in her review of last night’s concert. The Palace doesn’t sound all that bad from the audience. It may even sound a bit better than the Ohio Theater, though that’s not saying much.

I sat about half way up the upper balcony on the right side. I could hear every section of the Columbus Symphony more vividly than in the Ohio. (I think I heard this same symphony with Alessandro Siciliani conducting it in the Ohio) The woodwinds could have been a bit more present (I am a woodwind player, after all) but individual players could be heard clearly nonetheless. The upper strings were clear and present, and the lower strings did not suffer the dampening effect of the Ohio’s acoustics.

The overall sound lacked some blend and sparkle, which would be greatly improved with a shell, and minus the heavy black curtains surrounding the orchestra and it’s sound. (There were plans drawn up a few years ago to renovate the Palace: widen the proscenium and bring the stage out, create a shell, and shrink the back of the hall by 1000 seats. Until the Columbus Symphony gets its own deserved hall, this is still the best and most practical option to give the orchestra a sonically resonant performance space and to give the audience a better show)

I felt involved with the sonic availability of the performance from where I sat, a stark contract to the Ohio, where the orchestra’s sound is far, far away, no matter where you sit.

Tonight’s first half went even better than last night. Jean-Marie Zeitouni seemed more relaxed from the start, and the Rossini showed it.

Rachel Barton Pine was stunning again in the Wieniawski, creating slightly different nuances and style in many spots. She played a different encore tonight, the gypsy music from the movie The Red Violin, which she said she learned last week. Her playing was incredible. One of the joys of being a musician is that I get a front row seat of sorts to hear amazing players like Rachel, who make such difficult music sound so effortless. Not many violin soloists play double stops so in tune. And in extremely fast passages, many violinists tighten up and sound a bit scratchy. Not Rachel. I am awed by her playing.

It’s back to the grindstone for me tomorrow.

The CSO’s performance of the Jupiter was top notch. The spirit of the music was conveyed with aplomb by Maestro Zeitouni, who never tensed to show excitement, but instilled bounce and vigor into the players with an impressive array of gestures which seemed to come naturally, as if from the music itself.

This kind of conducting flair is rare. Many conductors work very hard to choreograph their gestures. Our last music director, however, did not need such artificial mapping. Junichi Hirokami was able to convey the music with similar natural flamboyance to Zeitouni, though Maestro Junichi had been doing it a lot longer, and to Zeitouni’s credit, it seems to be inborn for him. Other conductors, such as Maestro Gunther Herbig, practice the old school technique, using sparse and studied gestures with remarkable focus to convey the music with reliable efficiency.

What a joy to hear my orchestra bringing to life such a masterpiece right before me. Mozart’s “modernness” never fails to amaze me. Every movement of this 41st symphony of his, written at age 33, contains “twisted” and “gnarly” harmonic sections, way out for the time and tradition he was living and composing in.

Too bad there are no clarinet parts in the Jupiter. Perhaps I could “unearth” some “lost” clarinet parts to be able to join in with my colleagues to recreate Mozart’s genius as it happens. Or maybe not. It’s one of the few “big” pieces I get to hear from the audience once in awhil

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Emerson Meyers Clarinet Sonata

A few months ago I got an email, through the contact page of my blog, from a Steve Offutt, whom I had never heard of. Here’s the text.

I serendipitously met someone at the post office in Arlington, VA who shared your performance of the Emerson Meyers Clarinet Sonata with me. I liked it a lot–both the music and the performance. Sounds challenging, but I’d love to a take a shot at working some or all of it up. Do you have the music or know where I can get a copy?

I had not heard of Emerson Meyers or his Sonata, and so wrote back that he must be mistaken. He responded.

Thanks. I have a recording in which a David Thomas played with pianist Bonnie Kellert at a concert on May 4, 1986 at the National Gallery of Art in Washington DC. I googled you, but your name is not exceptionally unusual (although how many high caliber clarinetists named David Thomas are there, I wonder?) Do you know of any other David Thomases who play clarinet who might have been the clarinetist at that concert? I’m attaching the third movement. At the end there is an announcer’s voice mentioning the name David Thomas.

I listened to the recording, and was impressed with the piece and the performance. I lived in Washington, DC in 1986, when it was performed at the National Gallery of Art concerts series. I soloed quite a bit around DC during that period, while playing Principal with the Kennedy Center Opera House Orchestra, whose schedule was not all that busy.

The playing in the recording is familiar, along with the warm up and the throat clearing before the performance began. The composer was the pianist with the National Symphony; the pianist, Bonnie Kellert, a graduate of Peabody Conservatory, which I attended from 1978-80. My teacher from Peabody, Sidney Forrest, probably knew both of them.

The pianist’s playing is impressive, and I hope I complimented her at the time. But my memory of the event has not fully returned.

I’m including the recording below for your listening enjoyment.

How strange and wonderful that this obscure but delightful piece, and a recording of that performance with me playing, would pop up 22 years later! I think it’s a great piece and should be published, if the parts can be located. I’m working on that.

The only information I have is from the announcer at the end of this recording, who states this Sonata for Clarinet and Piano was written in 1946 for his good friend Paul Garrett, and revised in 1958.

Meyers Sonata, Movt. 1

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Meyers Sonata, Movt. 2

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Meyers Sonata, Movt. 3

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I did a little digging about the man. Apparently, Emerson Meyers was quite a figure in the Washington area, known equally as pianist, teacher and composer. He also left literally a mountain of writings (14 cubic feet), a few pages of which are quoted and summarized HERE.

To see the full text of his lengthy obituary in the Washington Post from 1990, I had to buy access. Ah, technology; liberation, for a price! The brunt of that obit is at the following link- Emerson Meyers- Pianist, Techer, Composer- 1910-1990.

PS- Randy Foster emailed me with a few things he found. The “google books” listing above is sold at Amazon, and the whole thing is browsable on Amazon’s site. Here is the link to that. Check out page 306, where the whole program I played is listed!

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Jeanjean, Étude 2

The book of 18 Études, by early 20th century French clarinetist Paul Jeanjean, has always been in my repertoire. I began studying these while in high school, continuing through the first two years of college, discontinuing my study of them when I transfered to Northwestern, where the emphasis was on orchestral repertoire, not solo performing. Though the move ended up being a productive one for me, as it helped me get the orchestral job which carried me through my career, I never gave up on learning all 18 Jeanjean études someday.

A few years ago I started a project to perform them all, over a period of time. (I doubt anyone wants to hear solo clarinet études for an hour and a half) One of the first ones I tackled was #2, which has eluded me for years with its sea of notes in the second part. The awkward technical passages, built on augmented triads, forced me to revisit hand position, finger accuracy, quality of air (to create flowing legato) and steadiness, both physical and mental. The hardest part of this étude is staying free while playing the blur of notes in the second part (second video)

For the record, I recorded this with a Canon Power Shot camera, not intended for long video recordings. I had to record this étude in two parts because the whole 4 minute work wouldn’t record seamlessly on my Canon. I intend to get a better recorder soon.

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A Spirit Reviving Party

The Friday before our last summer concert (Aug 3) I gave a party for the musicians and Junichi Hirokami at my home.

I took up a collection from the musicians who attended and we were able to have wonderful live music for the event, jazz pianist Erik Augis and acoustic bassist Andy Woodson. The rich colors of live jazz filled the house. Both Erik and Andy are sophisticated and talented musicians and deserved what we paid them.

Everyone brought food and drinks. There were about 30 musicians who were able to attend.

When Junichi arrived, we all gave him warm hugs. He was tired, since his flight from Japan had arrived 8 hours late, at 2:30 AM the night before.

Later in the evening we had a special surprise. Ed Thompson, the Grammy award-winning audio engineer who had recorded our live performance of Tchaikovsky’s 5th symphony and Romeo and Julliet Overture in March, had phoned me earlier in the day. He told me he had a copy of the final edit of the recording, which will be released by Denon sometime this Fall.

The performance of the Tchaikovsky symphony is the same one I referred to in my essay which was published in the Dispatch. In that essay I noted how optimistically I felt about the ending of the symphony, and perhaps how it might signal a happy ending to our difficult crisis in remaining a viable orchestra in Columbus.

We all gathered around to listen to ourselves playing the brilliant and emotional music. We couldn’t believe how good it sounded. For months we had been led to believe we were worth little as expert creators of amazing live music. Now we could hear for ourselves the world-class product we were able to produce. The chemistry between Junichi and the orchestra rendered the music into a unique and palpable voice, which communicated Tchaikovsky’s personal message into sonic emotion. Some of the musicians were moved to tears in a cathartic release of all the emotions and stress which has built up in the past 6 months.

Ed recounted how some of the engineers whom he had worked with in editing the recording had commented, with great emotion, how superior the performance was.

I still hope there will be a happy ending to the Symphony. But I fear that those in power in Columbus just don’t have the will to make it happen. I hope I’m wrong about that. Because I know that Columbus can do it.

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Alive with Music

OK, so I go for the corny, million dollar phrases, but the title Alive with Music captures so much of what we strive for as musicians. Over the past half century, recordings have both stimulated and undermined the popularity of live classical music. On the one hand, recorded music allows ready access and exposure to music by those who might not have had the opportunity to hear much. I could ask myself, “Would I have become a clarinetist if I hadn’t fatefully heard that recording of Robert Marcellus playing the Mozart Clarinet Concerto?”

However, recordings also create a false standard for live music performances. Current technology allows for recordings to be edited down to the level of single notes, so it is possible for all flaws to be removed from almost any recording before it is released. Granted, the music is still performed by live orchestras, but the drama of the moment, with close calls, near misses, and belly flops, has been removed to be replaced by the security of artificial perfection by correction. (I wrote an article about this subject saeveral years ago, called Music Recordings Byte Reality.)

What I am trying to say is this. Though the music may be the same, the difference between a live performance and a recording is as apples are to oranges.

Tonight, the musicians of the Columbus Symphony had a triumphant performance in Vets Memorial Auditorium. The crowd of at least 2000 swarmed in late, with many people caught in the snarled traffic jam involving the Jazz and Rib Fest., which shared parking lots with our event. Even our conductor’s arrival at the hall was delayed by the traffic. One supporter friend emailed me after the performance telling me they were turned away for parking and missed the concert.

The conductor for tonight’s concert was Alessandro Siciliani, who was Music Director of the Columbus Symphony for 12 years. He certainly has an avid following, and the electricity of a live performance is most definitely enhanced by the audience in attendance. Tonight, the repeated standing ovations signaled their adoration for him, and for us through him. Maestro Alessandro had no trouble living up to his reputation in his performance, both with the orchestra and his adoring fans.

His tempos were characteristically exciting and very, very flexible; something akin to riding fast on a rubber roller coaster, most assuredly an exhilarating ride. Yet, despite the musician’s occasional discomfort, something exudes from a performance with “Big Al” which could never happen again, ever. Each moment is unique, and something to be cherished as it passes forever into oblivion. And the audiences of Columbus tune into that energy, as if it’s something they have needed to feel for a long time, to be reminded of the preciousness (and excitement) of the moment.

The musicians of the Symphony were proud to have members of the Cleveland, Pittsburgh and Cincinnati orchestra in our midst tonight, creating a new level of attention and freshness to our playing. Those orchestras in turn are showing their respect for us as a world class musical group by their willingness to play music with us. Again, the unique spirit of this performance will never be recreated.

As an encore, Alessandro wanted to play the entire last movement of the Dvorak 8th symphony we had just played. We tried to start a murmuring revolt, repeating a rehearsal number near the end, which would allow us all to play just the last page. After all, we were tired! But Al persisted, and we played the whole last movement again. And, much as I hate to admit it, I ENJOYED doing it a second time. It gave me a chance to squeeze a little more emotion out of every note. The orchestra sounded fantastic both times, but even more free and spirited the second. That’s something a recording can’t do.

One inside story needs to be shared. During Rossini’s Overture to the Italian Girl in Algiers, someone’s metronome (a clicking device to assist with rhythm practice) somehow clicked on in their case, during the middle of the performance. We were all very busy with lots of notes, and no one had time to search nearby bags and cases to locate the rogue metronome. The thing is, the beat of the clicking device was much, much slower than the piece we were playing. There was something comical about this lazy, summer-night-rhythm ticking away blandly in contrast with the flurry of hurried activity going on the woodwinds (where the metronome was centered). The little thing just happily clicked it’s laid back tempo until the end of the piece. I offer commendations to those woodwind players who had to play difficult, rhythmic solos to play while this lazy beat persisted in the background.

Ah, there’s nothing quite like a live performance of music, or I should say a performance “alive with music”.

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