Press

 

 

Critical Praise

“The true stars of the evening followed intermission. Kenneth Woods was
confident on the podium, clear and economical in his gestures and knew when
to actively lead and when to allow his players freedom to phrase. He delivered
a Strauss “Till Eulenspiegel” brimming with personality, affection and freshly
imagined drama. Every moment was alive and engaging, and the riotous
complexity of the score was rendered with admirable coherence.” An “up-and-
coming conductor”
The Washington Post, July 2 2001

Kenneth Woods was conductor of the fine musicians comprising the BBC
National Orchestra of Wales. Solo woodwind fragments against bell-like high
strings set the scene, depth of orchestral sound quality and refined brass pre-
eminent as the performance progressed. These attributes were also evident in
Kodaly’s Hungarian Dances of Galanta alongside subtle integral changes of
tempi and tonality, and solo clarinet episodes. In Copland’s Appalachian
Spring, idiomatic of the vast expanses of Pennsylvania, sparsely spaced
strings gradually developed into a rich combination of exciting harmonies ….
Patricia Rozario was the splendid soprano soloist in Canteloube’s Chants
d’Auvergne. These French songs were sung with immense beauty and given
sensitive accompaniments. ”
Malvern Gazette, Ledbury Reader, thisis.co.uk, July 2 2004

“American conductor Kenneth Woods certainly knows his way around the
orchestra, in terms of cueing, balance and structure, as was evident
throughout the culminating performance of Dvorak’s Eighth Symphony…  a full-
bodied, rich performance of a high standard…  ”
The Herald, Glasgow, December 4, 2006

“American rock and classical musician Kenneth Woods seemed a born
conductor in his recent city debut. His second appearance with the
Nottingham Philharmonic underlined that impression with performances
combining excitement and integrity.”
Peter Palmer, Nottingham Evening Post, March 12, 2007

“Conductor Kenneth Woods had the toughest draw. Stravinsky’s mercurial
“Danses Concertantes” rides on small strokes from individuals in this
reduced chamber orchestra… but the piece took on the playful brilliance of
this underplayed gem.”
The Austin American Statesman, Wednesday June 23, 1999

In the Shostakovich, each instrument enters pianissimo, trembling like a new
crack on a frozen pond. The intensity builds by wonderful increments,
marching to terrible peaks of passion before falling again under a growing
weight of discordant tones… a sensitive and impassioned performance … with
Kenneth Woods”
Durango Herald, July 4, 2006

“At 38, Woods looks like a younger, dark-haired William Hurt…he and
Pendleton’s unlikely symphony orchestra give Mahler the ride of his life”
David Stabler, The Oregonian, Sunday, May 27, 2007

“The Nottingham Philharmonic have long been an orchestra to be reckoned
with, but on Saturday there were signs that American guest conductor
Kenneth Woods could give a new dimension to their playing.  His combination
of vital detail with the broad view was impressive. Sibelius’s masterpiece got a
worthy performance. A concert to stir and delight.”  
Nottingham Evening Post, October 29, 2006

“Scotia Festival’s young artists sank their teeth into Arnold Schoenberg’s First
Chamber Symphony and bit hard. Conductor Ken Woods from the Cincinnati
Conservatory marshaled the forces with admirable consistency, securely
initiating tempos, shaping the endless flow of melody and instrumental
acrobatics and balancing the embarrassment of musical riches to clarify the
main line. A brilliant job… played with the kind of ardency that goes with a
passionate commitment to a great work.”
The Halifax Mail-Star, June 7, 1997

“Conductor Kenneth Woods was alert, efficient and confident, and stayed with
the singers unflaggingly. The 13-piece orchestra created a sense of
atmosphere between scene changes and punctuated the text colorfully.”
The Cincinnati Enquirer, February 17, 1997 (CCM Opera Theatre’s award-winning
production of Britten’s Albert Herring).

“A very fine… deeply felt, performance of Beethoven’s powerful Leonore
Overture No. 3…The orchestra, too, responded splendidly to this demanding
score, Prokofiev’s Violin Concerto no. 2…with a formidable technique, and … a
luscious, surging tone…The concert ended with a superb performance of
Schumann’s Symphony no. 3— Its success was helped enormously by
Kenneth Woods…an enthusiastic capacity audience  ”
Surrey Advertiser, May 1, 2006

“Mahler’s Second Symphony was a total triumph of sound and music…
intimate, moving and intense. The concert of concerts…. Woods casts a spell
over the audience.”
The East Oregonian, April 25, 2006

“Conducted by Kenneth Woods, Carmen inspires performers and audience.. .
Bizet’s opera shows depth, range of the OES!”
The East Oregonian, April 29th 2004

“Dvorak‘s Symphony No.6 is a Woods favorite, and he promised in his
introduction that its joy and radiance would come through. It did. The
musicians performed all four movements with such energy they must have
been exhausted by the final note…  People were on their feet to show their
appreciation. The Rachmaninoff piano concerto (no. 3) brought international
prize-winner William Wolfram to the stage, and with the orchestra keeping
perfect pace, the sound couldn’t have been richer with the New York
Philharmonic. There was another standing ovation and everyone on stage
deserved it.”
The East Oregonian, October 7, 2003

“Tchaikovsky, the Oregon East Symphony, Kenneth Woods and guest pianist
Dickran Atamian: WOW!”
The East Oregonian, February 25, 2003

“A glorious concert…. Conductor Kenneth Woods opened with a lively
performance of Dvorak’s Czech Suite. Here the dance rhythms received an
authentic Czech flavour…. Dance rhythms also predominated in  Beethoven’s
Symphony No. 7, full of vitality and energy, but with enough pathos reserved to
make the ‘slow’ movement utterly convincing.. a tour de force of virtuosity!
Brilliant and incomparable…”
Surrey Advertiser, April 7, 2006

“Woods’ mastery of the material was evident in his command of the orchestra.
Both works were conducted in a way that inspired each member of the
orchestra to perform at his or her best. Both works were played to perfection.
The string playing was particularly lush, complimenting the clean precision of
the winds, brass and percussion… The orchestra accompanied with
exceptional grace and fine intonation.”
The East Oregonian, October 28, 2001

“…played with intense conviction”
The Spokesman Review, Spokane, August 1994

“The Oregon East Symphony has a new conductor, Kenneth Woods, a rising
star bringing “grade A” talent to Pendleton in his trajectory.”
The East Oregonian, June 1, 2001

“Beethoven’s 9th Symphony was the Oregon East Symphony’s May 21
concert. Listening to this magnificent concert brought tears to my eyes more
than once. At the end, I was exhausted because I was so full of music. I didn’t
think I had the capacity to hear one more note, and simultaneously, all I wanted
was to continue to listen to more.”
The East Oregonian, Tuesday May 22, 2001

“Kenneth Woods led a performance of Elgar’s Enigma Variations with such
commitment and passion that one could not help but be stirred by the power of
it. Working without a score, he conducts with a fiery passion and a deep
respect for the composer’s work.”
The Elgin Valley News, February 25, 2001

“Symphony No. 9 “From the New World” by Dvorak… was played with a lush,
full sound of great beauty. The Overture to “The Barber of Seville” by Rossini  
must be played with great precision and the orchestra did just that. Conductor
Kenneth Woods pushed the orchestra to the next level. The orchestra received
and deserved standing ovations.  Profound insight . . . stunning refinement and
virtuosity. Extraordinary concerts!”
The East Oregonian, November 29, 2001

“From the first note of the concert, conductor, orchestra and audience seemed
to breathe as one.”
The East Oregonian, January 27, 2004

“A classic example of Charles Ives – his Symphony No 3 “The Camp Meeting”
(1904) – deserved the attention Ken Woods gave to balance and ensemble
tuning, allowing all the snippets of melody to come out of the “organized
chaos” that Ives was a master of. Ken Woods’ interpretation of Barber’s
Adagio for Strings was powerful, almost aggressive. A far cry from the bland
“Classic FM” style that this piece so often attracts. The work was underpinned
by some perfect intonation in the ‘cellos and bass section…”
Swann Reviews.co.uk, July 5, 2005

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Upcoming Concerts

 

Concert Calendar

April 18, 2009
Oregon East Symphony
Beethoven- Symphony no. 2 in D major
Mozart- Requiem
Esther Mae Moses- soprano, Emily Muller Calendar- mezzo, Nick
Fichter- tenor, Steve Muller- bass

May 9-16 2009
Ischia Chamber Music Festival

Wednesday May 14, 2009
Ischia Festival Orchestra
Elgar- Serendade for Strings
Mozart- Sinfonia Concertane for Violin and Viola
Byron Wallis- violin, David Yang- viola

Thursday May 15, 2009
Trio Concert with Ensemble Epomeo-
Klein- String Trio
Krasa- Tanec for String Trio
Hovhanness- String Trio
Beethoven- Trio in C minor op 9 no. 3
Kodaly- Intermezzo for String Trio
Mozart- Clarinet Quintet

May 24, 2009
Cheltenham Symphony Orchestra
Schumann- Symphony no. 2
Tchaikovsky- Rococo Variations for Cello and Orchestra
Vaughan-Williams- Symphony no. 5

June 1-7, 2009
Ensemble Epomeo
East Coast Tour
Philadelphia, New York, New Jersey, Boston
Klein- String Trio
Krasa- String Trio
Hovaness- String Trio
Beethoven- Trio in C minor
Schinittke- String Trio

    NEW YORK
    Wednesday, June 3 ,2009
    Lunchtime broadcast

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A Cure for the musical twizzler

I don’t watch a lot of TV, and have gone long periods of my life without having one attached to anything other than a VHS or DVD player, but I do watch the odd cooking show when I’m chilling out.

In spite of my initial misgivings about the sanity of anyone who would market themselves as “The Naked Chef,” I’ve since become a fan of Jamie Oliver, who is very popular here in Britain. His crusade to reform school food has made him something of a national hero (as an aside, the bits of Supersize Me that deal with the behavioural impact of processed, high-fat, high-sugar school lunches on student behaviour and achievement is even scarier and more worrying than finding out what happens to a man who lives on McDonalds for a month).

Jamie’s latest series has him bumming around scenic bits of Italy trying to get close to his culinary roots. In the episode I saw, he went to a monastery with the oldest herb garden in the world, and one of the first libraries of recipes ever collected. When he arrived, he discovered the monks living on frozen and canned foods, having completely forgotten their rich culinary heritage. Even the herb garden was dead.

The fearless Jamie decided that since he couldn’t study cooking from anyone there, he would teach them how to cook again, and to re-connect to the beauty of good food. Throughout the episode, he talked about food and eating together as his religion, and of the almost spiritual importance of the quality of what you put in your body.

The monks seemed to really take to this, and Oliver’s point was exceptionally well made- bringing back real food to this old monastery did seem to bring back a sense of community and joy.

However, at the end of the episode, I had to cringe and cringe hard. The lesson on food having been taught, Jamie told the monks that, although he found their music “beautiful and all that,” he wanted them to hear his music. So he replaced their chants for a moment with music he said was all about love, a pop song that he connects to his wife. The song was by The Cure (my old band mate and top pontificator Doug Hildebrand famously said of them, that “sometimes The Cure is worse than the disease.”)

Now, I don’t want to demean the importance of another couple’s “song,” but as I listened to the mechanized, plasticized and computerized groove on this song, I couldn’t help but think I was listening to the musical equivilent of Jamie’s dreaded nemesis, the Turkey Twizlzer. Although the monks were for some reason using a Casiotone type electronic keyboard instead of the organ for their services, they’re musical traditions had stayed close to the values Jamie espouses about food- real music, made by real people that is connected to who they are and where they’re from.

All this got me thinking- there is a growing ethos about food in both Britain and the US, which, while still perhaps in the shadow of horrible chain restaurants and ready meals, is a powerful market force. This outlook is so close to the ethos of classical music (I’ve written on this subject before), that we ought to be looking at how we can help people like Jamie appreciate the honesty and freshness of real music, played live in a room on real instruments, fresh and direct without a computer processing, sampling or market testing.

The difference between The Cure and Brittany Spears is just like the difference between two corporate, pre-fabricated, frozen and pre-packaged forms of restaurants. Cure is to BS (Brittany Spears) as Fridays is to McDonalds. Surely a chef, of all people, should know that the Cure’s long-since brand-name-franchised sound (they’ve got an industrial patent on pre-fab-corpo-angst) is no more honest or fresh than a frozen fish finger. Come on Jamie, get your music fresh from the local musicians!

c. 2007 Kenneth Woods

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Back in bid’nis

Well, summer is officially over, as I am officially back in rehearsals beginning tomorrow.

It’s been some weeks since I’ve been on the podium- my last major concert was Bruckner 4 on June 30, and then the OES Camp Honors Orchestra in late July. I’ve not conducted in the month of August- hooray!

I’m glad to be getting back in there, as I’m a happier person when I’m conducting, and certainly a saner one. On the other hand, I could never have believed that the summer would go by so quickly.

I’m often asked by musicians what I do when I’m not rehearsing- it’s the sort of question you expect from audience members, but I get it all the time from players. The fact is, unless I make a point of going away and leaving scores and computers at home, I always have more to do than I could possibly get done.

One of my goals this summer was to get to know the Beethoven Piano Sonatas a bit better. I’ve played or conducted so much of Beethoven’s other major works- I’ve conducted almost all the major orchestral works except for Missa Solemnis, and played all the chamber music with cello that I know of, and even coached several of the violin and piano sonatas. On the other hand, I’ve only known the Piano Sonatas as a fan. I started out in June by putting all of Andras Schif’s wonderful lecture-recital series on my iPod (with apologies to A.C. Douglas- the iPod is a wonderful thing used wisely) and listening to them during my many long commutes. I’ve tried to then get to the piano to play through them as much as possible. I’m a lousy pianist, but one of the good things about being a human being is that you can, if you want, bang through Beethoven sonatas at the piano. A real pianist is a rare thing, but anyone can use a piano as a tool, and you don’t have to work around anyone’s schedule or budget. However, summer’s over and I’ve only achieved a tiny fraction of what I’d hoped for.

Nonetheless, for me, summer projects are a bit like New Year’s resolutions for normal people- a goal you kind of know you’ll never quite live up to. Next year’s summer project is to write an orchestra piece. Yikes….

The fact is, there’s always more to do in the summer than one remembers during the year. The conducting workshop involves tons of planning and administrative duties for  me, and I have to learn all the music well enough to hopefully stay ahead of my students. Then, in the late summer it’s time to really get ready for the coming year. I don’t bow every piece I conduct- it depends on the orchestra and the piece, but I do bow quite a few, and just in the last week I’ve mailed bowings to about ten pieces, which is a huge, huge amount of time-consuming work. (I’ve been meaning to do an entire blog post on bowings, as I think that’s exactly the sort of really exciting stuff Vftp readers are looking for). Along with that, people want blurbs to put on websites and in press releases, new bios, new photos and input on part assignments and auditions. Rehearsal schedules are being set, and that is very time consuming work, as you have to work through each piece in terms of difficulty and orchestration, then factor in problems with player availability, venues, soloists and even composers.

Oh yes, I also have to learn all the music I’m conducting this year….

Well, the clock’s run out, so now I can again get in front of 100 people and wave my arms about for a few months. Tomorrow starts rehearsals for what should be a fun program- Pictures at an Exhibition, Tchaikovsky’s Romeo and Juliet, Kodaly’s Dances of Galanta and Ravel’s Mother Goose Suite. All fun and challenging stuff. I’d be curious to hear from readers what you think the best piece on that program is- obviously they’re all pretty great. Of course, nobody took the bait on my question about 10 pieces you should not smile while performing. I think I’d surprise many of you with what I think is the real super-masterpiece ,though…

c. 2007 Kenneth Woods

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Fiddling around

One of the nice things about having done a fair bit of teaching is hearing what your former students are doing, and this morning I had an update on one of my cello students from my days teaching at Eastern Oregon University.

Jacie was already a prize-winning fiddler when she came to me. She’d been studying classical violin alongside fiddle, but decided, rather late in the game, to switch to cello. She turned out to be a very apt cello student, and within a year had auditioned successfully to be a cello major- no mean feat.

She’s got a new band called Celtic Air- their website has lots of great, informal video clips and audio samples. It was nice to hear her play again- I think the classical training was worth it in the end, as she can actually play off the string and in the lower half of the bow, two things that are rather rare in the fiddle world…. J (sorry, I have a running gag going with another fiddle player, wherein I say something snotty about fiddlers only playing in first position or the upper half of the bow, and he makes fun of classical musicians lousy ears).

Eastern Oregon, from Heppner moving East all the way to the state border is a fiddling Mecca, and I’m probably the only conductor I know who’s conducted Shostakovich symphonies with as many as three or four future national and world champion fiddlers in the group at any given time. I had one student at Eastern who played in the orchestra who refused to learn to read music, but could memorize the 2nd violin part to a Tchaikovsky symphony on two hearings. Funnily enough, his fiddle mentor asked him to write down his body of work for posterity, so he ended up becoming a very fluent reader and notator of music in the end.

c. 2007 Kenneth Woods

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FAQs- Bach Cello Suites

From my inbox comes a nice question from Felicity in Colorado, which gives me a rare, and nice, chance to answer a cello related question.

Dear Ken,” she writes, “when you’re playing the Bach Suites, do you use a baroque bow or baroque cello, what sort of A do you tune to and so on? I’m a freshman in college and trying work my way through them for the first time, having just learned bits of the first two in high school. Any tips for me as I work on them?”

That’s a huge question, and probably worth several whole posts, but here are a couple of quick thoughts.

I play Bach on my regular cello, which is a 1690 Italian instrument with a “modern” set up, and I do use an endpin. My bow is a Tourte copy, so also, “modern.” I’d love to own a baroque cello, but it’s hard to justify as I can fool almost anyone into thinking I’m playing a baroque instrument on mine (and its old, anyway!).

For me, the most important stylistic consideration in Bach is the vocabulary of bowstrokes I’m going to use. When I perform the Suites, I always use a baroque bow grip on my modern bow; that is, I hold the bow along the stick a few inches above the frog, and not at the frog where we hold the bow for more contemporary and romantic works. This kind of bow hold makes all of the string crossings and uneven groupings that are such an intrinsic part of the suites much more idiomatic. I would strongly, strongly, strongly encourage all young cellists to begin learning to switch back and forth between their “normal” grip and a baroque one from an early age. It helps to have a spare bow, as you’ll no doubt get some finger grease on the bow hair as you practice.

On the other hand, I also practice the suites almost anytime I get the cello out of the case using a modern grip, precisely because it is so unidiomatic that it challenges every aspect of my technique. If you can make the suites sound effortless, clean, articulate and idiomatic with a modern grip, you’ll have a flexibility and precision when you come to later music that will really serve you well. If you’re playing say, the Thrid for a recital, try preparing it with a baroque grip and then warming up every day with a different movement from one of the others with a modern grip.

When you’re young it’s so easy to fall into the trap of feeling too much time pressure as you try to learn each suite for lessons and recitals. You have your whole life to work on them, and from the beginning, it’s good to get to grips with the idea that they exist as much for us to learn from as to perform.

I’m not too bothered about playing at a lower pitch- there is enough evidence now that says pitch in that era varied so widely that I don’t see the point in tuning down, although 440 is really high enough, and anything beyond 442 is too much for Bach. Some American, Japanese and German music schools that have their students playing at 444 and upwards are making the instruments so tight (higher pitch means more tension on the instrument) that it’s almost impossible to get them to speak easily and ring effortlessly (and it is bad for the instruments).

Everyone’s got their favourite recordings of the Bach Suites- mine right now is Pieter Wispelwey’s, but what you should really listen to is OTHER BACH. So many cellists play these pieces as if the only Bach they’ve ever heard is other cellists playing the same pieces, and as a result, we hear them with a lack of rhythmic spine that is totally foreign to the music. Remember, they’re dance suites, not cadenzas.

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Light up the scandelabra!

Thanks to AC Douglas for pointing out this little oddity   (more here and here) about and orchestra and a conductor at each other’s throats. I hate to sound glib, but one should really not take these things too seriously. As one of my dear friends in grad school used to say- there’s a bright new light on the scandelabra today!

The media loves these little tempests in teapots, as do readers, it would appear.

This scenario unfolds all the time at big and small orchestras, and everyone seems to like to figure out what the “truth” is. Is the conductor really that bad? Are the orchestra musicians all bitter and washed up? Is it the union mentality run amock? Surely it’s the board’s fault? Why didn’t the management do something to prevent this? Is the conductor’s career over.

The fact is, at times like this, the metaphor of a marriage seems particularly apt, except that, with very, very few exceptions, all musical marriages, by their very nature, end in divorce, amicable or not. When a conductor sues an orchestra (really, that’s a good one, I have to say- I’d love to hear the testimony “but your honor, they play so damn late!”), or a players committee leaks a damning artistic assessment to the press, things have been bad for a long time, and, almost without exception, all parties- board, management, musicians and conductor- have helped shape the slow moving train wreck now so publicly on show. If I have one general sense of these situations, it is that, if things have gone sour, separate and move on. Fighting off a coup or holding onto a job you’re not happy in or where the work is not satisfying everyone makes nobody happy and only delays the inevitable.

Just as people can go on to find love again after a painful break up, so musicians find new opportunities. Believe me, if an orchestra enjoys working with a conductor, the last thing they’re going to worry about is whether or not the last orchestra liked him or her. Likewise, if they don’t get on, the fact that the conductor in question is considered a saint, genius and national hero at his previous orchestra means nothing. Remember how Charles Dutoit’s career was supposed to be over when he and the Montreal Symphony fell out so publicly- would someone so controversial ever work again? Well, if you consider principal conductor appointments with the Philadelphia Orchestra and Royal Philharmonic to be working, then, yes he is. Riccardo Muti, anyone?

I don’t know anyone involved in this scenario and have no idea about the past history leading up to this meltdown, but maybe, when everyone’s so obviously gone all “War of the Roses” on each other, the best and most dignified thing to do is to just say- “sorry, we all kind of lost it there… painful time…. lets move on.”

Besides, the real cloak and dagger stories of intrigue and evil never make it into the press. Believe me, there are things worse than conducting too fast…

c. 2007 Kenneth Woods

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The right way to do things….

I’m tempted to start a new column here called “things that people state as facts but that aren’t.”

Of course, I won’t because I don’t want this blog to be too much of a downer.

Nevertheless, every once in a while, I hear or read a comment about music that I think needs challenging.

The latest of these came as I was watching a TV broadcast and the commentator said during the applause “of course, the orchestra works without a conductor, which means they listen harder to each other and you can hear the results of that listening.”

Now, it would be a little self-serving as conductor to write an entire blog post explaining that a conductor’s job is to help the musicians to listen harder and better, and that, in many ways, a good and wise conductor makes it possible for the musicians to hear each other better than they possibly could on their own. I could explain that one of the advantages of being the one person onstage not playing an instrument means that you can hear the whole, not just in relation to your own playing. I could explain that the conductor can then use eyes and hands to begin to balance things, creating an environment where the players ears are more focused on the whole than they might be if everyone is hearing only in relation to their own playing. The conductor can give a bit of objectivity, and can also help to direct listening like a good chamber music coach.

All that is true, but at the end of the day it is just as false to say that “of course the orchestra works with a conductor, which means they listen harder to each other, and you can hear the results of that listening.”

I’ve often played in conductor-less orchestras, and always enjoy it, but more as a pleasant exercise and change of pace. There are real limitations to that way of working, but it does also give the orchestra a chance to listen in a different way and to take more ownership of a performance, and the lack of ownership that players often feel working with a conductor is a huge, huge problem for orchestra musicians (and the audience!).

The problem with both statements is that they are symptomatic of a larger fallacy, which is that there is a foolproof way to make music. I call this the “magic formula” mentality.

People love the magic formula mentality. In fact, in our day and age, it has become, far and away, the dominant paradigm in the music world. Here are some popular musical magic formulas….

“Always do the metronome markings in Beethoven”

“Classical and baroque music sounds better on period instruments”

“Mozart should always be played by small orchestras”

“Old school interpreters of classical repertoire understood the music less well than we do”

I’d contend that one needs to study Beethoven’s metronome markings to understand his thinking behind them, what they tell you about phrasing and bowing and style and also to know his tendencies. You can’t just do them all, because some of them are wrong (probably errors of transcription), and you can’t just go by the cliché that his metronome was too fast, because some tempi are slower than most musicians find comfortable.

I’ve heard plenty of ghastly and dull performances of classical and baroque repertoire on period instruments, and plenty of great ones on “modern” instruments. No less credible an early music expert than Anner Bylsma recorded the Bach cello suites on a modern cello (that is a Strad set up in the modern way) with a modern bow, because he thought it was the best and most expressive instrument he had found for that music.

Mozart actually was always looking for bigger orchestras for his orchestral works (as was Beethoven), and was thrilled when he went to Paris for the premiere of his 31st Symphony and had an enormous orchestra at his disposal. Mozart wrote with the knowledge that he was unlikely to have orchestras as large as he would have liked playing his music, which means the conductor has to think hard about balancing what Mozart wanted with what expected and had already compensated for.

One of the beauties of being a performer is that there is always something new to discover in old music, but your new discovery does not mean that a previous performer necessarily understood the music less well, only differently. There’s no such thing as progress in performance any more than there is progress in composition.

No, there is no magic formula that guarantees a great performance. Even hard work doesn’t count. Even talent. You can hire the trendiest 25 year-old or the wisest grand-old-man, you can rehearse for months or play in the best hall. In the end, a performance is only is good as it is. The only real magic formula is to do a good job. That means the critic has a more difficult task, which is not to see if the performer is using all the trendiest magic formulae currently on the market, but to actually assess the quality of the performance on its own merits. Someone can be doing all the trendy stuff and still not giving a good performance, while another performer might seem terribly out of touch with all that’s in yet give you chills.

c. 2007 Kenneth Woods

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When you’re smiling, when you’re smiling…

I’m back at VFTP International Headquarters after a nice little vacation, which means my musical summer is officially over, and it’s back to the musical salt mines for another year of hard graft….

One thing that I enjoy about the slightly more laid-back work load of August is that it gives me some of my only opportunities all year to be a spectator at concerts. I did see some great concerts this summer, and some not-quite-great ones as well, and all have given me a lot to think about.

One thing I’ve noticed lately is that performers are smiling a lot more on stage these days.

I mean, a lot more.

Now, lest you think I am the world’s most miserable curmudgeon, I am not out today to write a blog post in opposition to smiling, but some of the smiling I’ve seen this summer has really gotten my back up.

Yes, I know classical musicians have a bit of a bad reputation for looking less-than-sunny, even unhappy on stage, but so do hard rockers and Miles Davis, and it hasn’t dented their popularity. However, what I really think bothers audience members is when we look uninvolved on stage. It certainly bothers me.

However, when someone is smiling through all four movements of Shostakovich 10 or the last chorus of the St Matthew Passion of Bach, I think something is really, really wrong, because surely that is the epitome of un-involvement.

I’m getting a bit tired of hearing how “you could just tell how much fun the musicians were having onstage by the way they were all smiling.” Frankly, it is not always appropriate to enjoy our work or to be congratulating ourselves in mid-phrase on how wonderfully we’re doing. An actor would never smile in the midst of Hamlet out of appreciation for the perfection of the writing or the lovely staging. The end of the St Matthew Passion is not the time to give your fellow performer a smile that says “hey, great bow stroke!” If you’re thinking about the piece in those terms at that moment, you’ve really let your audience down because you won’t have gotten anywhere close to the heart of the work. Likewise, when performers start mugging for the public in a way that contradicts and undermines the emotional content of the music we are cheapening the music. I’ve seen some pretty world-class cheapening lately, and it really worries me that all this mugging and showboating seems to be commented on mostly as good thing.

Of course, in happy music, smile! In joyful music, radiate joy. Cry if you like ,(I was quite moved to see one of Britain’s great singers in floods of tears taking bows at the end of one performance this summer- he had certainly been in the music to get to that place), scowl, close your eyes, laugh out loud, but be the music, or at least , for Pete’s sake don’t undermine the music. Don’t, dare I say it, RUIN the music.

There was a time in American orchestras when we were all taught that orchestra musicians should not move or emote in any way onstage. The idea is that you are not there to call attention to yourself or do anything that might detract from the music. For me, I love to see an orchestra play with physicality the way Berlin and Vienna do- I think it makes for more involved playing. However, it’s good to remember that too much contrived, mannered, superficial and trite stage business can take away from the music and even annoy the audience.

So, a simple plea- think before you smile.

c. 2007 Kenneth Woods

PS- How about your lists of Top 10 pieces, movements or moments any conductor or instrumentalist should be shot for smiling during? Maybe you think I should lighten up and smile a bit next time I do Mahler 6? Let’s have some comments!

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