Buzzing Reed- Classical Music & Clarinet Culture

“Nothing communicates better than art. It is quicker than language and clearer than philosophy.” Frederick Weisman

“If the key is in question in Shostakovich, it’s always in the minor.” Gunther Herbig

I’ve been using Twitter to query my followers about the value of music and the arts. I was curious if people thought there is a purpose to classical music beyond entertainment. According to Wikipedia, entertainment “consists of any activity which provides a diversion or permits people to amuse themselves in their leisure time.”

One person wrote of the value of classical music, “To cultivate a healthy mind, it’s needed!” Another said ” Music is the one language we all understand.” Another said good classical music helps us “explore truths and open conversations beyond wordly understanding”.

But few can explain how and why some music goes beyond mere entertainment. Music can challenge the audience to a wide range of emotions from bleak to angry to ecstatic.

Some of the music on program of this weekends Columbus Symphony concerts may stir the listener to more than a lulled state of amusement. We’re are playing two pieces by Dmitri Shostakovich, his 10th Symphony in E minor Op. 93 and his Piano Concerto No. 2, in F major Op. 102 written for his son, Maxim. Gunther Herbig leads, with his wife Jutta Czapski playing the piano concerto.

The Symphony was first performed soon after the death of Stalin in 1953. It was his first symphonic work since his (second) “denunciation” by Stalin’s government in 1948.

The first movement opening is bleak, desolate. A ruminative, only mildly optimistic theme is played by the clarinet and developed, almost bitterly, by the rest of the orchestra. Glimmers of hope (major chords) are but passing shadows. A second theme, introduced by the flute, is jovial by comparison, waltz-like, but certainly not what I would call happy. When the clarinet returns with the first theme, the solo seems to wander aimlessly before finding the theme again. Later the bassoons take the theme and darken it more with their plaintive tones.

The second movement, probably the most famous in the symphony, is said to be a “portrait of Stalin.” I found this video on YouTube which makes the point quite clear. It is relentlessly angry and violent, miltaristic and unstoppable.

The third movement is again waltz-like, but not light in spirit. It communicates more sarcasm and irony, an almost creepy drunken mood, a sodden, bitter smile: Dark circus music. A horn solo, repeated numerous times in the middle, signifies Shostakovich’s name (thumbing his nose at Stalin?), and his love for a student named Elmira Nazirova.

The fourth movement, after an alternately tender and eerie slow opening for oboe, flute and bassoon solos, goes into another ironically humorous theme which builds to the ecstatic, if not happy, ending.

This symphony is surprisingly well known and loved by audiences. Why? It seems to reach out and draw the listener in, not so much to entertain, but to offer an emotional glimpse of one of the darkest periods in human history.

Luckily the piano concerto is un-customarily sunny for Shostakovich, and should be a nice balance for the program.

Beethoven 9 always sounds good. At least it makes everyone feel good, the way good music should.

The Columbus Symphony concert went well tonight. It’s one of the hardest pieces for an orchestra to play well. It challenges endurance, balance, ensemble, dynamics, you name it. We had our moments, up and down.

I had a real doozer, when I decided to try a new Forestone reed. (What was I thinking!? I’ve been playing Legeres all week and they sound great.) Soon after I put the reed on, we had to play the ultra-delicate march which comes from afar in the last movement. (it reminds me of the beginning of Sorcerers Apprentice) I POPPED the note out, and was jolted at the sound of it. Apparently I jumped so much that it almost caused one of my colleagues to burst out laughing. Oh well, the gremlins and tribulations of live music. No more Forestone reeds without playing a rehearsal on them. Bad 1st clarinetist!

Most of the rest went well, though I have to say, this piece is certainly more enjoyable to listen to than to play. The intricacies of balance, ensemble and tuning in this symphony in particular, are almost insurmountable. Let’s just say that even a good performance sounds quite “human”.

Maestro Gunther Herbig conducted from memory, as he usually does with war horses like this. It always amazes me when he does it, though, at his age. He was so into his music making that he barely conducted at times, which in a hall with fabulous acoustics, would be fine, because then we could play chamber music. But in the Ohio Theater, it’s a great challenge to hear intimately enough to play with little help from the podium.

Even more impressive was the CSO chorus (a volunteer group), which memorized the parts, and not easy parts at that, to the huge choral sections in the last movement. Bravo CSO chorus!

If you missed tonight, I hope you can make it tomorrow, or Sunday. Or, come again. It usually gets better and better…

We had two rehearsals yesterday for the upcoming Columbus Symphony Orchestra concerts this weekend, Friday, Saturday and Sunday, Oct. 9, 10 and 11.

Gunther Herbig is his usual refined and somewhat austere self. It’s hard to believe he’s in his 70′s. His mind is sharp and his conducting precise. I look forward to his Beethoven 9, which I’m sure he’s done dozens of times, if not more, over his long conducting career.

He brings his own parts with him. This is not an uncommon practice, for it allows the conductor to put his own expressive and bowing markings in the parts so he/she doesn’t have to explain and add them with each new orchestra they work with.

He has made several changes to the original clarinet parts, mostly requesting that some notes be played an octave higher. He also inserted some notes where there were rests. I meant to ask him if these are updated from recent research into Beethoven’s parts, or if he has made changes to help balance the orchestration. (George Szell did this, most notably with Schumann Symphonies)

As we rehearsed the beginning of the last movement yesterday, which begins with a famously dissonant chord, into an agitated Presto in 3/4 time, but marked for the whole bar to be extremely fast, 96 to the minute. Most conductors do this section in 3 to keep control of the tempo.

He mentioned the well known confusion about Beethoven’s tempo markings often being unreasonably fast, explained by some by attributing it to his metronome, a new invention at the time, being wrongly calibrated.

Then he said, “Someday, when I get old, I would like to do this section in 1″. Some in the orchestra jokingly suggested, “Go for it. Do it now”. He responded “By suggesting this, do mean that I am already old!?” We all laughed. But then we DID try it in 1, rather than 3, and it went quite well.

So, this weekend, look for the beginning of the last movement to be in 1!!

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