BSO GOODBYE TO MAESTRO JAMES LEVIONE

On March 3, 2011, Maestro James Levine announced he was resigning from the BSO (Boston Symphony Orchestra) for reasons of need to concentrate on his health.  For more detail, click here for the Emily Rooney show

Few would question his musical talent and the wonderful job he has done conducting many wonderful concerts.  Unfortunately, when he first came to Boston he made some public comments about changing the selections towards the style of Arnold Shoenberg.  While he may have put the Orchestra back on the world stage, he lost many of the BSO subscribers who, while they liked having new pieces, the majority did not like his dissonant, atonal music.  Research showed that the music is distasteful to many because of their brain structures.  There is no way they will learn to like that music.

On Sunday Februjary 24th, 2008, I wrote in my blog: ......"Berg’s Chamber concert for Piano and Violin with thirteen Wind Instruments, totally unrecognizable as music to my ears, began with Thema scherzoso con Variaszioni followed by an Adagio movement, and ending with Rondo ritmico con Introduzione. The Chamber Orchestra score called for piano, violin and thirteen wind instruments, namely flute, piccolo (doubling as second flute), oboe, English horn, e-flat Clarinet, Clarinet in A, Bass Clarintet, Bassoon, Contrabassoon, Trumpet, Two Horns and Trombone (tenor and bass).

Throughout, my mind was stuck on pitying the waste of instrumental talent of these two fine musicians soloing, at times, wildly. Occasionally the trombone, another wonderful BSO musician, came in with the few flatulent sounding accompaniments written into the score. Other brass and wind instruments added the dissonance of a terminally ill Greek chorus, while fingers on keyboard or violin flew wildly and would have been better in a silent movie where the skill, more than the sound, could have been appreciated.

After the performance, I spoke with several people who hated it. Only one man commented, “Well, it is complicated” seeming to imply “you wouldn’t understand it” which I readily confessed was true. Another commented wryly, "It is obviously an acquired taste!" We agreed we would both be unlikely to acquire that taste. Many in the audience walked out after the piece and did not return following intermission. If anyone took an exit poll, the results were not shared. As I read up more on Berg I realized that he had also written the opera Lulu. It was probably the first piece of music I had heard (somewhere in the 70s) that made me want to leave the theater, as I did last night had it been possible and less rude to others around me."

I will miss the beautiful pieces Levine conducted but will be happy if I don't hear his favorite music, that with which he planned to teach the Bostonians what music was really all about, his way.

THE BSO's SILK PURSE OUT OF A SOW'S EAR

There are those who like the smell of burning rubber and atonal modern music. , Tonight at The Boston Symphony Hall, those of us who have not yet had our brains evolve to like Messian, Carter, Berg or Schoenberg, the music was literally music to our ears. The Orchestra, under the direction of a most talented young Korean conductor, brought energy to the musical offerings that the pieces may not recognize in themselves. Shi-Yeon Sung is an Assistant BSO conductor who should not drop off the radar screen. Her hands move like those of a ballet dancer, graceful and smoothly, as does her body as she urges the musicians to put more and more into their playing....and they do it for her. She wore no tux, just black pants on her slim, feminine body and a navy blue jacket with three thin red stripes on the back and one on top and one on the underside of each arm.

As matter of taste and fact, the program was not spectacular, totally 'old chestnuts' as some may have called them, but the resulting concert was spectacular. The Sibelius tone poem (The Bard)started the evening with his typical melodic plodding, occasionally mournful to often energetic. Next was the Piano Concerto in A minor by Edvard Grieg. A Brazilian pianist, Nelson Friere, who started to play at age 3 and performed at age 5, played brilliantly, as musical geniuses are often known to do in concert. He was given a standing ovation and repaid his audience with a piano solo encore. Unfortunately, no one announced the name or composer of this lovely, delicately flowing piece, so I may never have the good fortune to hear it again..

We were treated to the Appalachian Spring, through which so many sensations are felt. We heard the Civil War, the sadness of grief and losses, and clearly, as days wound down, heard the sunset at the end of the day. The activity of the start of the day was an obvious contrast. Copland was calling with his music but it was not always clear, to someone not familiar with Appalachia, to whom or what he was calling. There were carefree parts like you might be strolling along on a beautiful day. Then the relaxed carefree spirit would turn majestic and structured, yet with carefree running through as Tinkerbell might, had she abandoned Peter Pan just for this piece. Copland soothes and excites alternately. He finished by extending a musical hand to offer a loving caress on the listener's forehead.

The final piece played was the Suite from the one-act pantomime, The Miraculous Mandarin, opus 19. Pomposity and power oozing threats and fear, aided by low, frightening melodies accompanied by lots of percussion thumping, lets one know that the Mandarin is in control and you survive at his whim. As with six and seven year-olds, there is a lot of "Look at me; look at me." While it started with the feeling that the listener was watching the Mandarin, at times it felt as though the Mandarin was watching and speaking to the listener. The sounds evolved to produce an image of a huge lumbering beast or ogre only to plunge into serenity after the tantrum. There is more dragging of feet like tired marchers, getting louder and louder. The end resulted in an appreciative audience who recognized that they had been treated to a very special evening of a potential musical ugly duckling turned into a sonorous musical swan.

CONTRASTING CONCERTS

Yesterday a friend invited me to her Retirement Village to enjoy Paul Broadnax (piano and vocals) and Peter Kontrimas (bass). Since Paul has been a friend for many years and I no longer get to many clubs to hear him, I was willing to drag myself out on a cold night. A few people were sitting around the room, half a side set with chairs and the other with tables (Pops-style) served beverages with a choice of white or red wine or spring water.Everything was served in a plastic cup, the size of a large thimble and filled 1/3 the way up, even the spring water which is what I drank.

The bubbly social director cutely walked into an open cove in the room and whisted like a dock worker, appearing out of the cove, quickly, asking, "Who did that?" and to my amusement, all the old people there in unison said, "You did." Since I don't yet have much of a problem with my short term memory, it stopped being cute the second and subsequent times she tried it.

Next there was a discussion about a request to start five minutes early since the musicians were ready. An ancient woman argued with a gentleman in front of me (who wanted it to start) that it was too early, it was scheduled to start at 8 PM. The argument went on for 2 1/2 minutes while the rest of the room was telling her to let it start and she finally gave in. I was told she always introduced the musicians but gave up the job only to tell her successor after a short time that she didn't like how she was doing it and was taking the job back.

Two women behind us insisted on having a running conversation through the first number while by hostess kept turning around shushing them. When the fist number ended I turned to my hostess and asked in a not to soft tone, "Are they always rude like that?" For some reason they became silent until the last number when one said, "They didn't play as well as they did last time." Her friend remarked, "That's just because you didn't know the songs!"

Tonight I went to Boston Symphony Hall to hear and watch James Levine conduct the last three symphonies (Nos. 39, 40 and 41) that Mozart wrote. As we neared the entrance there were two lines, one to for ticket holders and a very long second line of people trying to get a ticket. It was satisfying to see a full house for a change. James Levine's conducting was divine. He seems to be using his whole body and arms quite actively so that even though his back is to the audience they can see his direction.

A polite audience was quite a contrast to my night before. It was hard to believe that all the people there were healthy...there was not the usual coughing. The orchestra was magnificnet even though the principals seemed to have the night off. Mozart did not use harp, percussion, brass, or piano solo for these symphonies so the sound was less diverse. In all, a delightful evening without any of Levine's choice of atonal (using the word loosely) music.

BSO CONCERT: MAESTRO GATTI CONDUCTING

The last time I wrote about the BSO concert I attended was on 2/24 and it was not one of my more pleasant concert experiences. The contrast tonight points out to me something terribly significant. It taught me that modern music such as Stravinsky,Shostakovich and many others does not affect me viscerally in a negative fashion. It is Carter, Shoenberg, Messiaen, Berg and the likes that I can't tolerate. I need major and minor chords and I like things to resolve with closure in music as well as in life.

Maestro Daniele Gatti conducted. Malcolm Lowe, the Concertmaster had the night off. The Associate Concertmaster, Tamara Smirnova played magnificently as both pieces called for lots of Strings. The first half, heard Schumann's Piano Concerto in A minor, Opus 54. The piano, played by Garrick Ohlsson, about whom it was written that to date he has about 80 concertos at his command. He deserved the standing ovation and applause he received though the Concerto is not a particularly emotional or exciting piece. It is melodic, more even in tempo and volume than is required to keep some of the aging audience awake, my eyes noted as I looked around. Maestro Gatti pulled out a great performance from the troops.

The second half was stellar. It was Shostakovich's Symphony No. 5 in D minor, Opus 47 in four movements: Moderato, Largo, Allegretto and Allegro non troppo. It brought excitement that was missing in Schumann. Shostakovich used his instrumentation most unusually. Cellos picked low tones beating like boots marching. This was followed more volubly when the Basses took over.

In the second movement, a very close harmony (somewhat atonal) lacked the offensive effect I find in so many pieces by Shoenberg and his disciples. At times it felt a bit bi-polar. The music quickly alternated between an ominous sound quickly followed by uplifting lightness. The composer uses the strings to do so much more than smoothly bow. The Strings frequently plucked, adding decisiveness to the sound. There was no soporific effect in any movement. Rather, it vacillated between serenity and agony, not painful to listen but sensing the expression of pain in the music. The flautist and harpist soloed and duetted in the third movement, beautifully and melodically, gently easing and giving way to the strings which began their journey to crescendo.

While Schumann offered a recognizable melody, one would not have been likely to walk out of the concert hall humming anything from the Shostakovich. In the last movement, as the Strings stayed frenetic, Percussion and Brass carried the weight and solemnity. It is said that more has been said about the 5th Symphony than any other piece in modern history. With that, my final comment is that I consider this a modern piece and thoroughly enjoyed it, so it is not modern music that turns me off. I suspect that, just as certain smells are offensive to some people but not all, so is certain music. Sitting in Symphony Hall I never feel alone in my reactions though they are clearly not universal.

MAESTRO LEVINE of BSO AND ALBAN BERG

Last night I had the privilege to be taken to the Saturday evening performance at Symphony Hall in Boston. Clearly, much of the orchestra was given the night off due to the three works chosen. The first, Mozart's Symphony No. 29 in A, (though not one of his more inspiring compositions) featured the principal violinist (on the loaned to BSO Stradivarius) and his second violinist as well as good sized sections of violins, violas, cellos, etc. The second number, by Alban Berg, a pupil of Schoenberg, was Chamber Concerto for Piano and Violin with Thirteen Wind Instruments. This cleared the stage pretty much. The last number, Serenade No. 2 in A, Opus 16 by Brahms did not require too many more musicians back, leaving the players sitting in a rather sparse configuration and the music soporific.

While the Brahms was lovely, it lacked the emotionality of some of the rest of his works. Thus, preceded and followed by somewhat benign music, the Alban Berg was spectacular for the damage it did to eardrums for much of its entirety. Schoenberg, who seems to have not only wanted to write 'new sounds of music' but to throw out all pleasing-to-the-human ear theory built by civilization to date . From his biography, Schoenberg attempted to strengthen the structural powers of tonal music, but in the process began to create a musical armature that would replace tonality. This is expressed by another biographer, "The Second Quartet of Schoenberg is truly a turning point in Western Music. The first three movements are fully tonal, though they use extravagant means of extending tonality. In the final movement, "the concept of a tonal center as represented in the major-minor system is discarded, its rejection explicitly indicated by the absence of a key signature." (Perle 1980:4)": The lovely sounds of Nature and most music would seem to have tonality but Maestro Levine insists on forcing the unappreciative Boston audience to listen to this, perhaps mistakenly assuming they will begin to like it, rather than look for a different musical experience for which to pay huge ticket prices.

Berg’s Chamber concert for Piano and Violin with thirteen Wind Instruments, totally unrecognizable as music to my ears, began with Thema scherzoso con Variaszioni followed by an Adagio movement, and ending with Rondo ritmico con Introduzione. The Chamber Orchestra score called for piano, violin and thirteen wind instruments, namely flute, piccolo (doubling as second flute), oboe, English horn, e-flat Clarinet, Clarinet in A, Bass Clarintet, Bassoon, Contrabassoon, Trumpet, Two Horns and Trombone (tenor and bass).

Throughout, my mind was stuck on pitying the waste of instrumental talent of these two fine musicians soloing, at times, wildly. Occasionally the trombone, another wonderful BSO musician, came in with the few flatulent sounding accompaniments written into the score. Other brass and wind instruments added the dissonance of a terminally ill Greek chorus, while fingers on keyboard or violin flew wildly and would have been better in a silent movie where the skill, more than the sound, could have been appreciated.

After the performance, I spoke with several people who hated it. Only one man commented, “Well, it is complicated” seeming to imply “you wouldn’t understand it” which I readily confessed was true. Another commented wryly, "It is obviously an acquired taste!" We agreed we would both be unlikely to acquire that taste. Many in the audience walked out after the piece and did not return following intermission. If anyone took an exit poll, the results were not shared. As I read up more on Berg I realized that he had also written the opera Lulu. It was probably the first piece of music I had heard (somewhere in the 70s) that made me want to leave the theater, as I did last night had it been possible and less rude to others around me.

WHEN YOUNG MEETS OLD AND CONNECTS

My young friend was born when most of my children were nearing high school graduation. We have been educating each other on a musical era I lived through and he is now just learning. He is educating me on music he knows, historically in his shorter life, which bypassed me in the last 30 years. I am exposing him to music that existed in a genre that still exists today but not in spheres he frequents.

Last night we did a 'you-play-one, then I'll play one' music exchange. He played the Star Wars sound track by John Williams and I played Holst's The Planets. We both observed the similarities of sound and feeling, changes in pace, and shared what one experiences in listening to both. I was introduced to a better understanding of bands such as ACDC, Van Halen, Guns and Roses, Smash Mouth, Jet, God Smack, Eagles, System of Down, Arrowsmith, and even Commander Cody and the Lost Planet Air Men. He heard the purity of vocals by a young Chet Baker and trumpet playing, and to him boring, Mel Torme vocals. However, he also learned that many great vocalists played a musical instrument well, which influenced their vocal interpretation. Mel Torme played Drums, Sarah Vaughan played piano. I played a video of the George Shearing Quartet playing Claude Bolling's Suite for Guitar and Claude Bolling's writing was more intricate and required greater virtuosity, but both were exciting to hear. Since my friend loves cats, I played Eddie Bracken and Carol Channing doing Archie and Mehitabel, written in 1916 by a NY reporter, Don Marquis. It came to life in the 50's with a stunning musical background and was later made into a movie in 1971, titled Shinbone Alley.

My friend correctly observed that our criteria for music differs. He listens to lyrics more than I. I listen to harmony and chord structures, pitch, precision, tempo and balance. He listens to raspy voices that try to shout over the band's volume; I listen to bands which furnish a soft, melodic background for the vocalist. He listens to rhythm that overpowers all else; I listen for rhythm that adds an unfailing tempo and sets mood, equally as his does, but overpowers nothing. He appreciates many genres, so do I. We concluded that we both pick a limited amount from many genres though our basic criteria may differ.

Recalling how my husband loved classical music while I thought it boring and too full of violins, I realized that somewhere in the last 10 or more years, I have come to really love much of classical music and, having been exposed to more, have become more able to be selective. Without doubt, my musical taste has changed. I no longer listen only to a single genre like New Orleans Jazz or Dixieland. Whether one reaches a saturation point or finds more agreeable music to hear, or there are other reasons that alter one's taste over time, I leave that conclusion to the reader's introspection.

My conclusion is that there are always good musicians around. Ability for good musicianship is built in at birth and perfected by training and practice. Whether musicians are heard depended for a long while on non-musical agents and producers who picked and hyped lots of poor quality music, forcing listeners to hear the only things, primarily through radio and CD sales. This does not differ in the world of symphonic music, either. Maestro Levine of the Boston Symphony Orchestra insists he will force Boston audiences to like modern music such as by Elliott Carter and Olivier Messiaen. Despite masses of the audience walking out when these are played, the Board of Directors persist in allowing their conductor to force people to listen to what the majority don't want to hear rather than presenting music for which they pay large sums of money to hear.

Whether you are musically educated or not, seems not to effect musical taste. People hear and prefer music that does what they want it to do for them; calm, excite, stay in memory, create moods, make people want to get up and dance, touch their heart, and all the many things that music does for people. As the world slowly changes its tastes and musical offerings, it reflects sociological times. While I am not a serious analyst of these changes, it is fun to listen to music, find out what was going on in the world when it was written, and note how often it becomes popular long after the time in which it was written because it fits better today.

The one commonality we all have is that there is music out there for all of us, even the deaf who can often revel in feeling tempos vibrate through their bodies.

EXPECTING THE WORST AND GETTING THE BEST

This evening the Boston Symphony Orchestra surprised me with a most pleasurable musical experience. For some time I have been jaundiced by 'new music' in all its dissonance, mathematical formulas, and atonal auditory unpleasantness. I saw that the composer of the first two pieces was Osvaldo Golijov. He lives locally in the Boston area and came from Argentina. The program notes read: "Golijov's inherent curiosity, his ability to find inspiration throughout many facets, musical and otherwise, of many cultures, was nurtured by studies with the similarly exploratory composers Mark Kopytman in Israel and George Crumb in the United States." I expected a younger Elliot Carter and got a 21st C Dvorak!

The notes further state: "His style, in a broad sense, is in part a network of resonances, some more, some less, apparent to the listener, existing in dynamic equilibrium with the composer's own individual voice, characterized by a strong penchant for lyricism and an ear for unusual and brilliant instrumentation." The first piece, Ausencia (absence), for cello solo, 8 minutes, added strings with cello for the next 7 minutes. Actually, I was prepared a little by having gone to the pre-concert talk. Yo-Yo Ma and Golijov both came on stage and talked about the performance of the two cello pieces. The light, relaxed repartee between them was wonderful, funny, and set a positive expectation, to be realized in what was to come. The second piece was AZUL, actually commissioned for the BSO to celebrate their 125th anniversary, and written for Yo-Yo Ma. The notes read: "In conceiving AZUL, Golijov chose contemplation over conflict and wrote a work that is not a concerto....." This piece had everything; rhythm, defined harmonic movement, excitement, unusual instruments and above all, it magically captivated the audience.

Borrowed from the Fort Worth Symphony Orchestra, the conductor made his BSO debut at Tanglewood in 2003. Miguel Harth-Bedova was born in Peru and now lives in Fort Worth. He is much younger than most of the conductors I have seen over the past few years and brought with him an energy and spirit that, along with Yo-Yo Ma's playing and Golijov's composing, electrified the enormous hall.

The second half of the program was Dvorak's FOUR SONGS WITH ORCHESTRA. The similarity in conceptualization, while at the same time totally different, made for an exceptional evening of music which will be long remembered by this listener.