Kenneth Woods- A View From the Podium

Since my last NQHO post has generated so many emails and comments, I forward on a review of their most recent concert. No- I don’t work for them. However, having heard them live, and having felt it was one of the most revelatory concerts I’d heard in ages, even though I wasn’t overwhelmed by the conductor, I think it’s nutty that they’re so underfunded and underheard. I’m doing what I can! The recordings, which are few, are impressive but don’t begin to convey just how unique the sound of the band is in a hall. Tell your local presenter!

The New Queen’s Hall Orchestra’s concerts and recordings provide a fascinating glimpse into the workings of orchestra colour, which is simply unavailable now to most orchestras, because of the NQHO’s unique instrumentation. Here we have narrow-bore brass and flavoursome percussion, instruments in regular symphony-orchestra use until about 50 years ago, which do not obliterate the characterful woodwinds and strings, the latter using traditional gut – so intense playing does not necessarily mean harsh and too bright sounds. The combined effect of this is that musicians respond much better to each other, as they will be able to hear each other, and each group of instruments can be distinguished even when all are playing. It is an effect that is highly recommended….

It was the orchestral sound that provided the most joy, however. It cannot be overstated that hearing this orchestra opens up meaningful aural possibilities – brass that does not (cannot) overpower such distinctive winds and percussion and the warm-sounding strings.

RTWTH

There is also an interesting write up in the Telegraph here.

A view from the podium

One of the many scores on my desk this week is Handel’s Messiah, which I suppose is no surprise to anyone given the time of year.

Actually, it has been a few years since I last conducted Messiah. The last time I did it was one of those rather rare occasions when one does the same work back to back with different orchestras. In this case, it was four days apart on different continents. The second band and soloist line-up was probably the weaker of the two, but what really struck me was just how easy everything felt the second time around.

I had the same feeling the first time I did back to back performances of a concert, the Elgar in fact. Somewhere in the 2^nd movement on night two, which was being televised, no less, I realized I was so much looser and more relaxed than I had ever been for a concerto. For a very dangerous moment I started letting my mind wander to thoughts of how easy it must be for the Yo-Yo’s and Perlman’s to be playing their thousandth Dvorak or Tchaik and a gazillion bucks a night, but then pulled myself back from the brink and finished the show.

One of my first gigs with an international orchestra featured two works to be recorded by the same composer, both of which I knew very well, but one I had conducted and one I had not. The first piece to do was the one I had never done before, and it went very well, but I remember thinking the first run-through felt like it took years off my life. I had conducted the second piece once before on a very short schedule with a rather weak band, so it’s not as if I’d lived with it for decades, but the first go through felt effortless- in fact, we recorded the piece in one take and one patch for a noise.  

Funnily, I used to hate the Messiah, partly because I must have played it 500 times for inept choral conductors (no offense to the good ones out there!) on very little rehearsal, and partly because I always felt it presented a somewhat triumphalist view of Christianity that I was uncomfortable with in modern America. I much prefer the more gentle, meditative outlook of the St Matthew Passion. I still have problems with the libretto, and still find it hard to keep a straight face when I hear a choir singing “we like sheep,” especially in Wales. However, I long ago fell in love with the music, and it is a marvel to play through at the piano. Handel’s part writing is just magical.

Last time I did this piece I did something I rarely do, which is to assign specific metronome markings to each movement. After all, there are over 40 numbers in the damn thing, and it is all too easy to conduct everything at 88 or something like that. The UNIVERSAL TEMPO can be death to music. So far, none of these tempi seems crazy to me, but I’m a bit annoyed I didn’t make more notes on process- I tried to be quite cerebral in thinking about tempo relationships relative to motivic relationships and parallels in the libretto, but there are couple I really can’t remember the origin of.

The highlight of my last Messiah run was the singing of Donald Maxwell. If you’ve never had one of the world’s biggest bass voices right next to your head, I highly recommend it. When he sang “I will shake the heavens and the Earth,” I felt it in my sternum and my skull. I was quite touched afterwards that he obviously had concluded I was in someway famous- it’s interesting how differently people treat you depending on the size of cheese they perceive you to be.

This time around, I’m doing it with a professional choir (in addition to a professional orchestra), which should be very interesting as pro choirs are a rarity. Only one rehearsal on the day of the concert, which is normal but frustrating- perhaps I can go to America three days before and conduct it there to warm up?

A view from the podium christianity, Handel, Messiah

I’ve written here before about the unique sonic qualities of the New Queen’s Hall Orchestra.

The NQHO have updated their website, and have now created a podcast highlighting the the timbres of the individual instruments as used in the band, complete with demos of each of the wind and brass instruments by NQHO players on modern and NQHO/period instruments. I’m also embedding it here for your convenience.

(John Farrer conducting the NQHO in rehearsal)

Here is the audio

Not to be missed.

A view from the podium

I’ve come across an interesting blog that is new to me, Michael Monroe’s MMmusings.

A recent post called “Saving the Best for First,” caught my attention because it alluded to a post of mine about Haydn’s Symphony no. 92, the “Oxford.” Thanks to Michael for the shout out.

As a matter of fact, my much too-wordy attempt above to summarize the beauty of 10 Mozartean seconds reminds me of reading this fine blog post by Kenneth Woods. In it, he rhapsodizes at length on the subtleties of the introduction to Haydn’s Symphony No. 92. When I read the post, I was struck by two things: 1) I know that symphony well, having been taught it and taught it several times, and while I agree that those measures are beautifully written, they’re not quite as awe-inspiring to me as they are to Woods. 2) That said, it’s by far my favorite part of that whole 4-movement symphony. I’m sure I’m guilty of a 19th-century aesthetic bias here, but it’s as if these Classical composers put some of their best drama right up front, followed by nice, elegant comfort music. (Hideous simplification, I admit.) Of course, the Romantics took that flair for mysterious scene-setting and built entire scenes out of such mystery, and I guess I’m a hopeless Romantic.

Interestingly, events affecting my valuation of that very passage of Haydn’s have continued apace since I wrote that early in the summer. Most importantly, we featured the piece on the Rose City Int’l Conductor’s Workshop this summer and my colleague, David Hoose made those same bars the primary topic of a ninety minute session on score study. If Michael feels that I overstated the “awe-inspiring” qulities of the introduction to the first movement in my original post, he would despair of me now. Fascinatingly, David spoke for all of that time in the most inspiring and fascinating detail imaginable about those same bars WITHOUT REPEATING ANY OF THE POINTS I had made in my earlier essay. When I conducted the piece again in October, I tried to go one step further and see what I could fine that was distinct from David’s analysis and my previous one, and there was plenty there. I guess I feel they’re more awe inspiring than I did before because I feel that in the last five months I’ve learned enough to be able to appreciate in greater depth what makes them so. I’m not trying to rebut Michael’s great post- just passing on a bit of personal perspective on the piece.That introduction is one of the miracles of all music- it’s pretty damn good even for Haydn, but I’m not sure I can concur that it is “by far” better than the rest ot the symphony. The body of the first movement is full of the most amazing touches, the slow movement is genuinely sublime, and the contrapuntal writing in the finale is out of this world.

Michael certainly has a great point about classical masters knowing how to grab the ear with a great introduction, and his examples of the beginnings of The Creation and Mozart’s Dissonant Quartet are hard to beat- what else does grab the ear like that?

However, (and I assume that Michael’s caveat,  “Hideous simplification”) speaks to this point, there are plenty of examples of classical works where the ending is all important- thing Mozart 41, Mozart 4th Violin Concerto, and think of the many amazing slow movements- the A Major Mozart Piano Concerto is certainly not comfort music!

Also, think of how many great Romantic pieces are possibly best known for their openings- Also Sprach, Brahms 1, Tchaik 4, Brahms Piano Quintet, Don Juan, Mahler 5, Tristan, Bruckner 4… One might even make the assertion that Wagner is one to put the best musical drama up front, followed by nasty, crazy discomfort music. Not me- I love it. 

c. 2007 Kenneth Woods

A view from the podium, Haydn

How could it take me so long to stumble upon this gem in the New York Times- “A Little More Sweat, Maestro.” ?

Who is the sweatiest conductor? Answer below! (Photo assembly from the New York Times)

It has long been postulated that the aerobic benefits of conducting were the key factor in the unusually long lives and careers of conductors like Monteux, Stowkowski, Wand and Sanderling. My own feeling is that once you know what it takes to develop a really first rate and long-lasting career, you wouldn’t let something as pedestrian as death stop you working.

But, I can certainly testify that for me, conducting, especially big repertoire, is a workout. An Elgar, Sibelius or Mahler symphony is bound to be exhausting and calorie burning work….

My favourite quote from the Times piece is this on the merits of “conductorcise-”

“And it is low impact and requires no skill, making it easy for people who are older, very overweight or chair bound.”

I doubt you’d find many orchestra musicians who disagree with that…

Sweating maestros is a topic one can discourse on at length. I sweat a lot in concerts and some in rehearsals, which actually puts me in the moderate-to-light sweating end of the conductor/perspiration continuum. [Venue is important- I always feel totally dehydrated after an evening in Guildford's Electric Theatre, and I might has well have done the Sahara run as conduct the Wilmslow Symphony in Wilmslow Leisure Centre last month. My suit could have driven itself home after that concert]. There are some conductors who begin to sweat from every pore the second they open a score, conductors who cannot rehearse without a towel(s), conductors who regularly splatter the front desks of the strings in every rehearsal. If your principals are bringing umbrellas to rehearsal, try less coffee beforehand. Most conductors wear black to rehearsal for two reasons- it makes the baton easier to see, and doesn’t change color when soaked with sweat. I would say that more than half of professional conductors change shirts at the break in rehearsals.

Without doubt, London musicians have the most interesting and broadminded takes on conductor sweating. I recently heard one of the major London orchestras referring to a very famous and sweaty conductor as “the self-basting pig” a cruel, but cruelly funny nickname. Of course, the maestro would be deeply hurt to learn this, but could take comfort in the fact that his career choice, which “is low impact and requires no skill, making it easy for people who are older, very overweight or chair bound,” means he’ll be racking up lovely fees when they’re all in their early graves….

Answer- This is tough competition- three of my favorite conductors. Although David Robertson is shining the most brightly in this picture array, research has shown that James Conlon sweats just a little more than his peers in this lineup. None of them is on the extreme end of the perspiration spectrum (and Abado sweats less since his cancer problems caused him to become economical in his approach), although Conlon may enhance his sweating performance by being the only maestro in Cincinnati who had his own espresso machine in the dressing room.

A view from the podium, Performing Life

Just a reminder to our friends in South Wales and the Marches that tonight is the HSO concert with Suzanne playing the Mendelssohn. Also on the program is Mozart’s Symphony No. 34 and Schubert’s Fourth Symphony, one sunny one tragic, one C major, one C minor. This being a Ken concert, you can guess which one I’m ending with! :)

It was a busy, exhausting trip to American and a long, unpleasant journey back (let’s just say British Airways and First Great Western Railways are not on my “highly recommended” list this week. For some reason, perhaps the fact that they dumped us all off the train in the middle of nowhere with no alternate travel so they could turn the train around to London to start the next trip on time, every time I think of First Great Western I hear a long string of profanity and words like “scum” in my head), so I’ve been living this week under the pleasant delusion that I’m not really very busy now and can take a few days to relax and cook turkey  after the demands of the last two weeks, but that is not, strictly speaking, true. Sadly (well, not that sadly), this is one of those times that I have to conduct 3 completely different programs in the coming 5 days, and four over the next 18 days. It is times like this that I’m really glad I have that long repertoire list you can see on my website- I wouldn’t want to be learning everything from scratch.

Once that rush is done, it’s on to a nice holiday break, which is really just a shift in professional priorities. I’ve got a lot of music on the second half of the season to learn, some of it very challenging (go Xenakis), and once things pick up in January, I’ll have precious little time to study for the rest of the spring. There is also a fair amount of planning work for next season that needs to happen around that time- setting rehearsal schedules and concert repertoire for all the different groups.

I’m looking forward to using part of that time to try some new projects for the blog and also hopefully beginning a new radio project- some interesting, and hopefully FUN, podcasts are in the works. Watch this space. I’ve been working for weeks, even months, to find a style and a voice that works in a studio format. We’re close, and hopefully episode one of the new series will be out very soon.

There are some huge and exciting new things coming next season- concerts and recordings that will be more high profile than most, if not all, of what I’ve done to date. Change is in the air, and change is coming to Vftp headquarters (note the last sentence of Suzanne’s bio). There are only so many hours in the day and so many days in a life, and with the coming of the new, one has to also make choices to say goodbye to some of the old. As anyone who has followed my schedule the last couple of years knows, I’ve been pretty voracious in trying to learn and do the widest range of repertoire possible, regardless of the travel demands. I feel like I’m now coming to a time when I have to get one with the work that is most important to me at the standard that I’ve always wanted to be doing it. I need to find more time for planning, writing, organizing, studying, practicing (there’s either going to be way more and more fun cello stuff in the coming decade or none!) and all that stuff, so now is the time to think about how I do that.

Well, not now…. 18 days from now….

KW 

A view from the podium

In rehearsals, the orchestra had sounded like Jaguar fresh from a tune up- all effortless perfect handling, pure power and explosive speed, and the night was a glamorous one, with one of the great living pianists waiting in the wings for Mozart and Ravel concerti. The usually slightly-too-large hall was packed to capacity.

In those days the orchestra was still hungry, with everything to prove to the slightly more famous ensembles to the North and South, but we knew we could keep up- especially in this repertoire. We were hungry.

The crowd fell silent as the lights came down and the extra 800 or so in attendance gave that first bit of applause at the entrance of the concertmaster an extra bit of depth and power that you could feel sat on the stage. After a long-ish tuning, we fell silent and the maestro let that silence settle into delicious expectation for a moment before entering. I think even the old ladies in the top balcony could have heard that tiny, discreet squeak of the stage door opening and the first footfall of the conductor onto the stage floor.

The auditorium erupted- this was his crowd, he owned the room, and they welcomed him like a hero. Across the stage in what seemed like three steps, he hopped onto the stage and in a moment lifted his hands and gave an up beat- he hadn’t warned us, but we knew to expect the unexpected and were ready, and in one glorious whoosh, we unleashed the torrid opening of Strauss’s Don Juan.

You could almost sense the “wow” in the audience. There are nights when it feels like the audience is clapping during the piece even when they’re silent, when you can feel the ebb and flow of their energy, feel the effort they are making not to cheer.

Our MD could be counted on for a very Italiante Don Juan, and the many urban legends about his own escapades with the ladies only added another wrinkle. Don Juan’s theme out of the way in a single breath, we moved from seduction to seduction, adventure to adventure in ever higher style. Another conductor down the road used to say that maestro had mojo coming out of his mojo, and in this kind of music, it was particularly true.

The orchestra was in the zone, which has a way of making time bend. Like the great baseball hitters who say that on a good day the ball looks a foot wide and seems to be going 10 miles an hour, the treacherous first bar of the piece felt like a slow rehearsal- we all felt like we had plenty of time to grab his upbeat, breathe, look at the concertmaster, place the bow and spring into action with eyes, ears and brains all in synch. Then, as the piece goes and we hit our stride, it is as if time begins to telescope. Minutes feel like seconds, and whole episodes feel like a single phrase. The piece flashes by as if in a dream- there’s no time to be nervous, no time to make mistakes.

All too soon we’re in the amazing, decadent world of the coda- “Out, then, and away after ever-new victories as long as the fiery ardors of youth still soar!” cries Lenau’s Don, and so to do we onstage.

Then comes the moment when, having generated the storm of all storms, “a beautiful storm that drives me on,” the music suddenly stops on a dime- expectant silence hangs in the air. We all look up, unblinking. Three counts- boom, wait, ONE! then a last statement of the opening theme.

But wait, what do we see?!?!? Time bends again and we can see the maestro has forgotten something. Rather than releasing his arm into a neutral, passive flow after BOOM for the “wait” he’s immediately reloading the energy. Oh god…. Is he…

There it is— boom, TWO!

“…but we knew to expect the unexpected and were ready…”

With one mind and one set of eyes the entire string section responds in perfect synchronization to the maestro’s flub. We play those first seven notes with the same effortless ease as the very opening, all that remains is for the woodwinds and brass to join us on the half note and take it home.

And here, disaster strikes. The woodwinds have seen what has happened and joined us at the top of our run, but the brass have just kept counting. They enter on the original schedule, a beat behind the rest of the orchestra. It is impossible to describe the sound that ensues. Suffice it say that it’s greatest merit was it’s brevity. Finally, “it has subsided, and a calm has remained behind.” Yes, a calm, but not calm.

“All my desires and hopes are in suspended animation; perhaps a lightning bolt, from heights that I contemned, mortally struck my amorous powers, and suddenly my world became deserted and benighted.”

Never in any of our careers has a G.P. been so welcomed. Maestro holds it an impossibly long time, waiting for the tremor in his baton to stop. Just before he brings us back in, he mutters the only word I’ve ever head a conductor speak in mid-concert…

“Shit….”

We resume our doomed tread to the double bar, hoping that we may yet salvage something of the evening.

“And yet, perhaps no— the fuel is consumed and the hearth has become cold and dark.”

c. 2007 Kenneth Woods 

A view from the podium, Performing Life

What better topic for Thanksgiving, when none of our American friends are reading, than a concert announcement for our UK audience?

UPCOMING CONCERT

Hereford String Orchestra

Saturday, November 24, 2007

7:30 PM

Holy Trinity Church

Hereford

Program-Mozart- Symphony no. 34 in C Major

Mendelssohn- Violin Concerto in E minor 

    Suzanne Casey, violin

Schubert- Symphony no. 4 in C minor “Tragic”

This is my second appearance with the HSO after a very rewarding performance of Bruckner 4 in June. I think we’ve come up with a fascinating and surprisingly unusual program- two relatively rare pieces from Mozart and Schubert bookending Mendelssohn’s ever-popular Violin Concerto, as played by my favourite violinist.

The Schubert is the real rarity on this concert. Written when he was only 17, it is more than simply an intriguing glimpse of the composer who was to come, it is a deeply moving and very beautiful work in its own right. Already, Schubert was showing one key trait of his style that has remained controversial to this day- an approach to form that is almost the opposite of Beethoven’s. Think of Mahler’s “Tragic” symphony, his Sixth. In that case, we think of the entire form of the work as expressing a single tragedy as in a Shakespearean drama- a series of events culminates in at tragic outcome. Schubert’s “Tragic” refers to a mood and an atmosphere- he doesn’t seem to see instrumental music in dramatic terms, but atmospheric ones. Where as most classical music, and certainly most Germanic classical music, is built around structures that express a beginning a middle and an end, Schubert’s music, even when written in sonata form, the ultimate expression of beginning-middle-end in Western culture expresses something more like a happening or a slice of life.

Mozart’s 34^th is a work I’ve wanted to do for many years, mostly because I feel the stuff it is made of, the tunes the idea, is so amazingly fresh. Having done about 8 Haydn symphonies since I last did a Mozart, I’m finding it telling in other ways- there are naïve, repetitious and clumsy patches everywhere in this piece. This doesn’t matter because the melodic content is so rich and alive, but it reminds me that when we talk about Mozart as simply the epitome of perfection we forget or ignore how hard he worked to become the composer he became, and we perhaps discourage curiosity about perfection in other composers (Yarr Haydn!)….

Finally, a word on this week’s soloist (and tenant at Vftp Int’l Headquarters), Suzanne Casey…..

Suzanne Casey, violin

(photo by Chris Stock)

Suzanne Casey was born and brought up in Hereford.  During her years at the Hereford Cathedral School she became a member of the National Youth Orchestra of Great Britain and also played in many local groups such as the Hereford String Orchestra. Under the guidance of her teacher Hazel Davis, she was awarded a place at The Royal Academy of Music, where she won the Waley Violin Prize and the McEwen Prize for String Quartet playing. Two years later Suzanne received a Performers Diploma from Indiana University while studying with Mauricio Fuks under the Starling Fellowship, and then took up a position in Florida’s New World Symphony. She moved back to Britain to join the BBC National Orchestra of Wales in 2000 and enjoys a busy musical life with the orchestra, as well as playing chamber music with friends and colleagues. She has appeared as a soloist with a number of orchestras in the UK and the USA, and was recently featured as a recitalist at the Three Choirs Festival. She lives in Cardiff with her husband, Kenneth Woods, and they are expecting their first child in March. 

A view from the podium

Back home after a wild trip to America I have been catching up on news and blogs and came across this post from Lisa Hirsch and the NY Times article by Antony Tommasini she is discussing.

I’ve held off talking about the whole “woman conductor” issue for some time because even though I have strong feelings about the subject, it is one you tackle in print at your own risk.

However, I’m feeling brave, and having read Lisa and Tommasini, I’ve decided to go on record with a few of my thoughts about the current and future state of women in the orchestral conducting profession.

Of course I don’t have to be reminded that I am a man, and nothing I am offering here is in anyway intended to suggest that I understand everything that women conductors have to deal with in their professional lives- these are just my takes. However, my sister is a conductor, and several of my dearest friends are woman conductors as are many of my former students, so it is a topic close to my heart and often on my mind. So, read on….

Read more…

A view from the podium

Back at Vftp Int’l Headquarters, and I’ve had to attend to one of those jobs one absolutely dreads- finishing a long-standing personnel issue at an orchestra that I regularly work with.

There’s no worse part of a conductor’s job than having to be the heavy- no matter how kind one tries to be every day you come to work, one instantly becomes Darth Vadar the moment you have to deal with a difficult player or staff situation. Deciding to discipline or dismiss someone means embarking on a difficult and awkward process, and becoming, at least in the eyes of some, the bad guy.

Fortunately, these situations are exceedingly rare. Most problem colleagues act the way they do because they are unhappy in their position, and people who are unhappy tend to move on of their own choosing if they can afford to.

Worse is the situation when not only does change need to happen, but feedback needs to go with it. This is even rarer. In a litigious age, we tend to live in a world of silent consequences- it’s okay to stop hiring someone, but not to hurt their feelings. Hurting anyone solely to be cruel is never acceptable, never. However, letting large and vulnerable non-profit organizations suffer because we are unable to confront destructive behavior is irresponsible. Sometimes, it is not enough for a problem to go away- the organization needs to make clear its reasons, because some people will take advantage of an orchestra’s reluctance to cause friction.

I’ve always felt that difficult decisions should be dealt with when it is no longer a decision, but a necessary act. “You leave me no choice” is a cliché, but with some reason.

Today, I finally had to deal with one such situation. It is one that should have, in retrospect, been dealt with long ago. Had it been, perhaps such drastic action would not have been warranted. I believe in second chances, but I also have a responsibility to not ignore looming problems simply because dealing with them will be awkward and unpleasant. Now, having waited too long and having let too many actions pass without sufficient consequences, something had to be done.

In the end, I chose to handle this with a letter spelling out in unusually strong terms the nature of the issues at hand because I felt the behavior in question was among the worst I’d ever come accross. I’m sure it made the person extremely, extremely upset, and they came back to me immediately saying the recent problems had actually been caused by a family medical emergency they didn’t previously report to us. I can’t help but feel terrible at the thought of someone else’s family dealing with serious medical issues.

Of course, that is only the latest event, and there are ways of coping with family emergencies that allow us to support people in difficult times, and minimize the negative impact on the organization. In my experience, there are always reasons given for bad behavior that make perfect sense, but at the end of the day, 99% of the people we work with manage to do right by their colleagues even in difficult situations, and a track record is a track record. People get up from hospital beds and come running from loved one’s funerals to get to rehearsals and concerts because they understand they have a responsibility to their colleagues and to themselves.

Nonetheless, it’s left me feeling icky and down. The best non-musical part of being a conductor is being able to help and encourage your colleagues, friends and students and to see the positive results of your actions. When the best you can hope to do is end a negative situation, and in doing so know that nobody is happy about the outcome, well, that’s when you think about going back to playing full time.

c. 2007 Kenneth Woods 

A view from the podium

This is possibly my favorite post concert comment ever, courtesy of Tom (thanks for dinner, Tom!!!!)

“You could hear everyone onstage and, you know, there wasn’t any weird shit going on” I loved that!

This came out of my mouth this morning in reference to a former colleague and made me smile as I was saying it….

“Really, I’m surprised he’s not still there. He was a perfect fit for that department, both incompetent and mendacious…”

Rarely have I felt I summarized someone’s professional life so succinctly and accurately!

From the “best laid plans” file. Sue and I figured out a few days ago I could simplify my travel today and tomorrow by going directly from Heathrow to Hereford, where I have a rehearsal tomorrow evening. I should get to Hereford at about 4, which allows me a decent nap before the rehearsal. We just realized the problem with this plan… My scores for the HSO concert are in Cardiff, not Hereford.

The orchestra has a set, but they’re with the rehearsal conductor, so now all is in motion to gather them, otherwise it’s straight to Cardiff, off the train, get the scores, on the train then in rehearsal. No nap. Very sad…..

The OES concert last night had the misfortune of competing with a few other events, and attendance was down a wee bit, which was the only bummer in an otherwise wonderful week. Given the situation, I did something I’ve never done before, which is to remind the audience members to tell their friend how wonderful the kids in the youth orchestra were and that they deserve just as much support as their peers on the football and basketball team. Small towns like to trumpet community spirit, but Pendleton has some fantastic young musicians and they deserve better from their neighbors. I expect I’ll probably get in trouble!

This is one of the dangers of being Ken- I do a good job of tip-toeing around feelings and never offending people for 11 months, then find out I’ve offended someone I was really trying to be nice to, so then I get fed up and speak my mind for a couple weeks, and then have to cover my tracks for the next several months.

Otherwise, I enjoyed the concert itself even more than usual… I thought the Dvorak Wind Serenade had some of the most polished and sophisticated playing the orchestra has managed. There were a few tiny blips which I’m sure the audience missed entirely that caused an inordinate amount of self-recrimination on the part of the players who made them. This is the curse of the musician- the better you play, the more your mistakes bother you, and often when you think it’s going poorly it actually sounds good because you’re so focused, which means you don’t get to enjoy your best work. When I listened to the recording of my recital the other day, I should have known it would be the movement I was most bummed out about after the concert that actually sounded the best….

And Beethoven 8… Yarrr!!!! There were a lot of comments afterwards about how tight the ensemble playing was, with which I concur. No mean feat, especially in the last movement.

It was an unusually lively post-concert party, which culminated in a 2AM argument over the greatest moments in the Transformers (the animated series and movie, not the new film).

Other quote of the week “the last time I got that drunk was also here.” That’s what I call orchestra  spirit. Anyway, onward and upward…  

UPDATE- I forgot to include one other treasured post-concert comment, this one from one of the young ladies in the youth orchestra

“You’ve shown me the path!” she said.

Of course, she’s found it for herself, but it’s really rewarding to be a part of a project that makes it possible for young musicians to find their paths. On thing I heard from all of the freelancers was a general degree of amazement at the amount of talent in the junior orchestra. We’ve always had talented kids in town, but never so many across all sections and age groups.  Maybe they’ve shown us the path?

A view from the podium

Travis asked for my top 10 recordings every musician should have. I chose to include non-classical and to focus on recordings that are not only great listening experiences, but that have something unique to teach us  about the art of performance. This is not a list of pieces you should know, but of performances I find it interesting to study again and again, year after year. Next year or next week, the list will change, but all these are well worth having…

I’m officially calling on all regular readers to issue their own lists, either in the comments or on their own blogs. If you post on another blog let me know so we can link to you.

1- Artur Rubinstein- Music of France. The most colorful, effortless, elegant, sophisticated piano playing imaginable. Genius 

2- Sara Vaghan- Live from Japan. Some of the best recorded vocal performances of all time. Sara had an unparalleled mastery of ever kind of color, nuance and could sing in every part of her range with infinite softness and control or unbelievable power. A recording to love and to study. 

3- Jimi Hendrix- Band of Gypsies. The best recorded performance of the only true genius in rock n roll history. Funkier and more direct than his earlier studio albums with the Experience. “Machine Gun” is his masterpiece and is painfully more relevant than ever. 

4- Miles Davis- Four and More. My first encounter with this album, and the drumming of the 17-year old Tony Williams changed my life. From the moment I dropped the needle to the end of side 2, I could hardly move. It sounds like the band is inventing a whole new art form onstage in front of the microphones, and they were. 

5- Takacs Quartet- Bartok String Quartets (first version on Hungaraton). Soulful, intense, idiomatic and polished performances of the most important chamber works of the 20^th C. 

6- Bernstein/Berlin Philharmonic- Mahler Symphony no. 9. Lenny could go farther into the abyss than any other conductor on his best days. This is about as powerful as performances come. Any of LBs M9s are like a masterclass in mojo- nobody can push an orchestra farther…

7- Karajan/Berlin Philharmonic- Bruckner Symphony no. 9. The album that launched my love affair with Bruckner. 

8- Rostropovich/ Oistrakh/Ormandy/Philadelphia Orchestra- Shostakovich First Cello and Violin Concerti. Originally issued separately, these are the definitive performances of these two astounding pieces. This is what its all about- new music played at the highest possible level by the musicians it was written for. Both concertos are now so popular its easy to forget this was new music not long ago at all. Perfect orchestra playing from Philly- balanced, intense and full of texture and depth 

9- Borodin Quartet- Shostakovich String Quartets. Like the above, this is an invaluable document of great music from musicians who worked intimately with the composer. Which set? The original with Dubinsky now re-released on Chandos, the classic EMI set with Koppelman or the unfinished set on Virgin? Get them all! 

10- Queen- A Night at the Opera. Call me crazy, but this is the ultimate studio rock album- even more impressive and sophisticated than Sgt Pepper or Dark Side of the Moon…. Incredible singing and vocal arrangements and amazing guitar playing from Brian May 

A view from the podium

Well, I’ve finished the last bit of fire related business for me here in Pendleton.

As I’ve mentioned before, when I moved to the UK, a lot of my old stuff that I didn’t need on a daily basis stayed in the old office, and most got cooked in the fire. A very few boxes of things- mostly CDs (or CD boxes) and LPs made it out, and I finally had time to day to pack up the usuable stuff to send home.

At the bottom of one box was a cheap digital clock I bought at a 2^nd hand shop for $.75 in 1997 because a room I was rehearsing in that week didn’t have a clock and I didn’t want to keep the orchestra late (I can’t wear watches).

Anyway, I used to keep it in my briefcase for ages for similar situations, then retired it when I got to the GRSO in 1999. It floated around my flat for three years, getting used as a proper alarm in the guest room and so on, and occasionally getting taken on trips when I remembered it. When I moved in 2002, I was sure I’d tossed it- after all, it was just a cheap, ugly little piece of junk….

Anyway, at the bottom of a box of soot covered CDs this afternoon, there it was…. Still keeping perfect time- four years after I last looked at it. I now fear this clock and will never betray it again. All hail the clock! The clock is good! All hail the clock, the clock is good!!!!

I also found some tapes that I’d given up for lost- old recital things and the only known recording of Slanted Glance, my very first band. One of the members is now deceased, so it meant a great deal to find it, although I doubt I can listen to it now….

Travis has asked for my 10 must have recordings. That’s a tough one- I’m going to work on it for a couple of days. Meanwhile, here is my list of 10 favorite drummers of all time (in no particular order).

1-       The guy playing timpani on the Celibidache/Munich Phil film of Bruckner 8. He’s possessed!

2-       Mitch Mitchell (from the Jimi Hendrix Experience). Definitely the most underated rock drummer in history. 

3-       Tony Williams. His playing on Four and More (and he was only 17) changed my life

4-       Elvin Jones. The ultimate modern jazz drummer.

5-       John Bonham. The best sound and feel in rock history 

6-       Max Roach. Perfection and poetry

7-       Clyde Stubblefield. The only person on this list I’ve worked with. Played guitar briefly in a jazz group in Madison with him. He is the funky drummer

8-       Evelyn Glennie. When I first heard of her, I thought it must be a crossover gimick- hot, barefoot, deaf percussionist? Well she is hot, but also one of the best performers on any instrument I know. 

9-       Chester Thompson (for his work with Zappa, not Genesis). The Helsinki Concert is the best post-rock drumming I’ve ever heard. My favorite of Zappa’s many great drummers because he had the virtuosity and the sophistication, but also a much funkier, more interesting feel and sound than any of the others. 

10-     Art Blakey. A force of nature. Albums like Free for all and Indestructable re-define ”intense”  

All hail the clock!

c. 2007 Kenneth Woods

A view from the podium

We were rehearsing one of the developmental episodes in the last mvt of Beethoven 8 last night (the march section), and were having some ensemble problems. It’s normal in passages with repeated staccato notes for players to suffer varying degrees of rushy-ness.

So, I had the cellos and basses do the section without conductor, which solved the problem for them, then added the violins and violas, also asking them to play the entire section without conductor. We always joke that it is depressing for conductors that orchestras always sound better when we don’t conduct, but it’s not really true that its depressing or that they always sound better. There are plenty of things that an orchestra can only do with a conductor or director (conducting from the concertmaster chair or as a soloist), so there’s no need to feel too threatened. However, doing things without conductor is a way to iron out and eliminate individual tendencies. Anytime things sound better in rehearsal, it’s a cause for celebration, and choosing when not to conduct is just as much the conductor’s concern as choosing how to conduct, so no need for tears.Everyone I’ve ever worked with is either a rusher or a dragger. It’s just human nature. Rushing and dragging are relative phenomena, so when a mild dragger sits next to a severe dragger, the severe dragger hears the mild dragger as a rusher and attempts to slow them down. When a real rusher sits next to a real dragger, they tend to both become more and more insistent until they completely pull apart from each other. Both musicians are so keen to be right that they get more and more wrong as they musically shout “you’re behind the beat!” or “you’re ahead of the beat!” When you take away the visual information, there is no longer any “right” time to play- you can’t be ahead of or behind a beat that doesn’t exist, so the only thing to do is play together. Take away the idea of a “correct” time to play, and you can quickly get perfect ensemble. So last night, as we concluded this short exercise, I gently reminded everyone that the real reason it always sounds better without conductor is that when the musicians are playing without me, they’re doing something in extra that they weren’t doing when they were playing with me. If they can keep that mysterious process going once I start carving the air again, even better things can happen. (I don’t think it even helps to name that process- it’s a mixture of listening, watching, compromising, counting and adjusting…. )  This morning I did the local community affairs radio show, the Coffee Hour (actually about 27 minutes minus commercials). I like working with Tom, the host. He’s not particularly interested in music, but is a great, easy interviewer. He never interrupts me but is great about getting in quickly with a question if my energy starts to flag. This should be a good concert for marketing. The weather is turning bad, which is good for concerts, and we have all the friends and family of the youth orchestra to attract. We talked about the flourishing of the youth orchestra and I tried to explain in laymen’s terms just why I’m so proud of this group and why everyone in town should be cheering them on, and we also talked about Leandro’s piece and the Dvorak a bit. Tom also hosts the local sports chat show. He’s got an idea that I know something about sports history (I sort of do, but only selectively), so I’m going to be brave and be his guest for the full hour of Sports Talk on Friday afternoon. For all the chat about the concert, probably the smartest thing I did this morning was repeatedly mention the 8-1 Green Bay Packers from my home state of Wisconsin. The novelty of a “classical musician” (read- figure of suspicion!!) actually talking about a football team will probably sell more tickets to the curious than anything else I could do or say.

Also on the Coffee Hour this morning after me was Senator Gordon Smith, who was calling in for a phone interview from DC. We exchanged “hiya’s” as I was finishing, but I felt it was a missed opportunity. I’ve always wanted to do political journalism, and would have loved to take the chance to interrupt him with “but Senator, surely when you refer to the “surge” working against “Al Quaeda” you’re aware that you’re talking about the group “Al Quaeda in Mesapotamia,” which is a completely separate political organization from the group that claimed responsibility for the 9/11 attacks, and shouldn’t we make absolutely clear that there was no form of Al Queada whatsoever in Iraq before 2003?” Hmm…. Wonder how many tickets that would have sold?????? c. 2007 Kenneth Woods  

A view from the podium

UPCOMING CONCERT

Oregon East Symphony
Oregon East Symphony Preparatory Orchestra
Saturday November 17^th, 2007
7:30 PM

Vert Auditorium
Pendleton, Oregon

Leandro Espinosa- Movement for Strings (World Premiere)
Leandro Espinosa, conducting
Dvorak- Serenade for Winds
Beethoven Symphony no. 8 in F Major
   (Combined OES and OES Preparatory Orchestra)

Composer Leandro Espinosa, Music Director of the Grande Ronde Symphony takes the OES podium to conduct the world premiere of his fascinating new work for string orchestra, then KW and the OES wind section play one of the gems of the wind repertoire (surely improved by Dvorak’s inclusion of the cello). Finally the symphony is joined by the young musicians of the OES preparatory for what promises to be a rambunctious and fiery performance of Beethoven’s wittiest work.
 

Ticket info from the OES office oes@uci.net for more info.

A view from the podium, Announcements and reviews