Kansas City Symphony: Music Revolutionized

Admittedly I faced the opening night of the Kansas City Symphony's new season with a bit of trepidation. Going to the new Kauffman Center was a bold change of routine. How do we get to the new  parking garage? Where are our seats? How do we get to them? What door do we use?  Where are the restrooms? The place is so big; will it be a daunting task or a walk in the park? My Symphony partner Gerry and I decided to get there an hour early so we would not get lost in the shufflle.

Turns out it is quite easy. Parking was a snap and is just a few steps to an elevator and then an escalator to get from the garage to the spacious Brandmeyer Great Hall. We had time to explore, enjoy a beverage and see all the assembled humanity. Finding our entrance and seats was easy and not intimidating at all. When we found our entrance we were so pleased to see the same usher that had greeted us for the last few seasons at the Lyric, a serendipitous touch of "home" in the new surroundings. He was as thrilled to be in the new setting as we were.

Our seats in the Grand Tier row AAA (I mean what could be better than Triple-A?) although smack in the middle of a long row, had an amazing high view and were so much more comfortable than the old Lyric Theatre's Balcony Row G  we had occupied for so long.

As for the sound... perfectly balanced, never tricky or harsh. When Maestro Stern, Frank Byrne and Shirley Helzberg spoke without microphones at the beginning of the evening it was as if we were in a room 1/8th the size. The orchestra percussion, which in the Lyric could easily overpower the orchestra, was blended yet totally audible. The pounding bass drum in "The Pines" would have driven me to the street in the Lyric, but in Helzberg Hall it was a powerful texture and presence just as it should be. Every detail is captured; the ppp pizzicati in the Emperor, the harmonics of the piano and harp (with my compromised hearing for me to hear high pitched harmonics is a miracle) and even the middle voices (viola, clarinets, bassoons, etc) were clear instead of a muddy stew. Is it auspicious that we sat in the same row as the renowned acoutician Yashuhisa Toyota, who was here to witness the opening weekend of his creation?  I mean, he has to know where all the good spots are. Unfortunately he was swept up in the sea of people as we left and I could not ask.

And among all this was a concert.

Music Director Michael Stern conducted a program that was tailor made for the inauguration of a new hall and season:  "Fireworks" by Igor Stravinsky, Piano Concerto # 5 "Emperor" by Beethoven with Emanuel Ax as solo, a new commission by Chen Yi  "Fountains of KC" and the "Pines of Rome" by Respighi. We all stood and sang the National Anthem as a start to the festive evening.

Fireworks, as befitting its name, was perfectly festive, incendiary and ephemeral. An early work from 1908, its sparkling orchestration so impressed Serge Diaghilev that he commissioned Stravinsky to compose a ballet for him, the ever popular Firebird. A short and almost fanfare like opener, Fireworks immediately demonstrated to the packed hall that we were now in a new world.

For a grand hall and edifice... a grand and powerful concerto. Of all the sometimes superfluous names given to compositions, "Titan", "Jupiter", "Great", Beethoven's Piano Concerto # 5 truly deserves the moniker "Emperor" no matter how it gained it. Ax and Stern assuredly gave it a most imperial performance; full of fastidious detail (the acoustics helped to illuminate even the most delicate of passages, showing the Emperor was also a kind and subtle monarch) yet demonstrating the potent sonority and energy that makes this a most thrilling and virtuosic concerto. Stern and the hall (both taking advantage of each other) highlighted the often blurred woodwind and brass allowing each note and figure to sound as it should. The subtle contrabass and cello pizzicati were breathtaking as they supported Ax's often delicate lines. The orchestra could quietly support and alternatively boldly declaim as necessary. This somewhat cool and detailed performance was no less valid than a more splashy performance, Ax's command of his gifts was displayed in his restraint and obvious reverence for this masterpiece.

Befitting a new hall and season we were treated to a new work as well. University of Missouri Kansas City professor and renowned composer Chen Yi brought us the first of several works commissioned to celebrate the Kauffman Center and Kansas City's fame as a "City of Fountains" (Kansas City has more public fountains than any other city in the world except for Rome), the imaginative "Fountains of KC". The "KC" can be interpreted as Kansas City or Kauffman Center, whichever you prefer.

This is a piece that deserves to be called "splashy". Evoking fountains, water and liquid in all its forms, "Fountains" is a major addition to Chen Yi's impressive catalogue. (One has to hear her "Si Ji" (Four Seasons) whenever it is recorded or played in your area, a most impressive piece). Spurting water, flowing streams, liquid tempests and palpable excitement permeate the piece. Despite being bi-tonal and even microtonal, Chen Yi's vibrant and imaginative orchestration brings the tone clusters and dissonances to life much as Schoenberg does in his 12 tone works. In her most informative notes, Professor Chen reveals that the style of  Chinese music that inspired "Fountains" is from Xi'an, a Sister City to Kansas City, a most thoughtful touch.

How to demonstrate what a new hall can do? Play Respighi's brash and brassy "Pines of Rome". For all who wish to detract this work, you have to admit it is a showpiece and thus has its place from time to time. Showing off has been a human trait since the cave man days... so who is to argue? Delicate melodies (Principal Clarinet Raymond Santos was beyond superb as was Kristina Goettler's oboe and Kenneth Lawrence's English horn solos), commanding brass, pounding percussion (as noted above wonderfully integrated into the whole texture) and evocative moods... what is not to like? Never descending into total Hollywood (the piece is halfway there as it is) Stern let the sound and power take us away, blowing us all literally away in a tide of sound and color.

Stern and the orchestra gave us a festive recessional, the "Racoczy March" from the Damnation of Faust (please Maestro.. do this piece sometime....) by Berlioz, as we descended the grand staircases for a champagne toast to this most magnificent hall which has revolutionized music in Kansas City forever.

St Louis Symphony: Three Stravinsky Masterpieces

With the gala grand opening of the new Kauffman Center for the Arts in full swing, September 16th, 2011 was probably the most important day for classical music in this town since some early settler took his or her fiddle and eked out a Schubert tune or maybe a bit of Bach. So what did I do to celebrate? I left town.

I was not invited nor had the mega bucks to attend so Dunbar the faithful Buick and I headed across the state to hear the more affordable (even with the price of gas) opening performance of the St Louis Symphony. In a concert that New Yorker Magazine critic Alex Ross called a "humdinger", Music Director David Robertson led the orchestra and chorus in three Stravinsky masterpieces, "Petrushka", "Les Noces" and "Le Sacre de Printemps". Stravinsky's arrangement of the "Star Spangled Banner" opened the eve, Robertson invited the audience to sing along.

Of course I went for "Les Noces", a vocal/choral tour-de-force ballet-cantata for 4 solo voices (a fine line up of Dominique Labelle, Kelly O'Connor, Thomas Cooley and Richard Paul Fink), 4 pianos and percussion. It took me a long time to warm up to and appreciate this unique work. Written in the early 1920s and premiered in June 1923, Les Noces  (The Wedding) is an earthy, vibrant and ultimately rewarding evocation of a Russian peasant wedding. It has to be a royal bitch to sing for all involved with its declamatory chant, high tessitura, and fast, complex rthythms. The relentless chiming of the dry, high pianos and frequent use of metallic percussion makes for a dramatic, driving texture and makes balancing the ensemble critical.

Last night's performance was nothing short of unforgettable. The 4 soloists were incredible, special note to Dominique Labelle who negotiated the soprano's (Bride) throat killing lines with ease and musicality. It can easily descend into shouting and screaming. O'Connor and Labelle were magnificent in the almost tear jerking mother and bride duet. Cooley and Thomas both could conjure a deep Russian sound but a couple times got swallowed up in the sound in some of the more thick scored passages with the whole ensemble and chorus. Their duet in "The Bridegroom's House", evoking God and the Saints to bless the union, was also a highlight. Cooley's final serenade to the Bride, an exhortation of earthly lust, assumption of primacy in the marriage and tender feelings for his bride was one of those goose bump raising moments in music.

I can not say enough about the St Louis Symphony Chorus who precisely and clearly whispered, shouted, chanted and chugged along, never just a backdrop but an integral part of the drama. The percussion and pianos were well in tune and together, dry as Stravinsky wanted. The final ringing chords were incredible, allowing the subtle harmonies and overtones present to bring the work to a satisfying close.

After listening to it again, maybe it was multiple attempts to like Stravinsky's English language, languid recording that delayed my admiration of this piece. His version never clicked and the English took away all the deep sonorous Russian soul. Ancerl's on Supraphon is the one to have.. or tune in to KWMU and listen to the live broadcast on Saturday.

It is hard to imagine masterworks like Petrushka and Le Sacre taking a back seat, but for me they were just icing on the cake. The demanding program made for an opera length evening as two intermissions were required to clear the whole orchestra from Petrushka, set up the pianos for Les Noces and then set up the huge forces for Le Sacre. It made for good sales at the concessions I am sure.

Sadly, the evening's disappointment was an under-rehearsed, slack Petrushka. Plagued with ensemble issues, iffy intonation, horn bobbles and a general lack of propulsion, it never quite jelled. The performance was video narrated with scenes and drawings from the original production, but were sometimes hard to see with the microphone wires in front and the general glare of the orchestra lighting.

I could point out all the disappointing moments but that is pedantic. Principal flute Mark Sparks' solo in the first Tableau could truly have brought a puppet to life with its sincere and deep expression and perfect phrasing. Peter Henderson handled the extensive piano part with grace and propulsive force, until Stravinsky just seems to forget about it in the 3rd and 4th tableaux. Not a total write off, but the piece never danced.

Maybe after the electrical Les Noces, Robertson and the whole orchestra got energized as Le Sacre received a most exciting and technically excellent reading. Scenes from the ballet and drawings from the original choreography were also projected on the screen. Right from the misty, primeval opening, Robertson and company dug into this complex and colorful score. The Dance of the Adolescents was appropriately clumsy and knock-kneed. The round dance was trance like and ritualistic, perfectly realized. The Sages emerged from the depths with frightening power and swaggering violence, you could see them knocking the children and animals out of the way of their sacred procession. The violent awaking of the earth was simply shattering, but the famous frosty chord before the awakening of the earth was a bit weak and not together.  The final Danse Sacrale was the epitome of controlled fury. Even conductor Robertson was propelled by the power of the music as he danced his way to a most satisfying and terrifying conclusion, which in some performances comes off more like an accident rather than an exhausted collapse.

I am sure the orchestra did an exhausted collapse as well after this demanding yet satisfying program. Kudos to all and to Maestro Robertson for the courage to do it!

HM

Puggles Duchess Windsor, Dowager Empress, Queen of Pugs, Supreme Ruler of Alaska, Princess Royal of Baltimore Place, Grand Duchess of Missouri, Grand Duchess of Kansas City and St Louis, Duchess of Illinois, Duchess of Clinton, Duchess of Caddo Parish, Baroness Pugtona, Royal Order of the Greenie and Treat, Grand Order of the Scrunchie, Knight Commander of the Royal Order of Kibble, Patroness of the Royal Pugharmonic Orchestra.

 April 30,1999-September 14th, 2011

Spiritual Journey: A Look Back

Looking through the "dashboard" of my blog I found this in the draft files, never having been published. I do not know why... maybe I just forgot or wanted to revise it. Anyhow, after reading it I felt it to be a pretty good summary of my thinking back in April 2010. Since then, I have reconciled somewhat with the United Methodist Church (my local one, not the evil Mother Church) and found particular meaning and enrichment in the stately, high church Eucharist of  St Mary's Episcopal. So much so that I am going to take some classes offered by St Mary's to learn more and perhaps join the church.

I did not want to waste this piece, looking back it was kind of a straight from the heart thing, so I am posting it today, a year and a half after it was penned. ~ Pato


So, inquiring minds want to know, where am I on this "spiritual journey" of mine?

De-railed, grounded, floundering, if you must ask.

As you may know, nasty and saddening events at the last two churches I attended left me cold, bitter and wondering if it was all worth it. Back in March, I went back to the last church I attended and still hold membership therein. As I reported it left me cold, and I have been back once since then. I have not been motivated to return. I remember my grandmother Clark telling my parents that exposure to church was good for a kid, that is where they learn how to be proper ladies and gentlemen. (She hated my guts so I am sure this was a backhanded slap at me directed at my parents who were very lax in taking me to church while my sister practically lived at hers at the time. Ironically, the roles reversed as the years passed.) Now I see church as a place to learn bigotry, hate, distrust, political infighting, greed and power.

Writer John Shore sums it up so nicely in his essay "10 Ways Christians Fail at Being Christian."

Easter, the big holy day of Christianity was spent at a beautiful, glittery, sensuous (not in the dirty minded sense, but one that fills all the senses) ritualized service. Gold and incense, flags, banners, robes and fine new dresses were on display. Any sense of excitement?? Not much. I confess I was sitting waiting patiently for the service to end so we could all head to Amy's for Bloody Marys which she assured me were chilling as we sat. I guess the point of the old style ritualistic services like this one at Grace and Holy Trinity Episcopal Cathedral and those of Catholics is that if you repeat the same thing over and over, you soon will believe it.

About 3/4 through the 1 hour and 45 minute service, someone read all the prayers. We were to ask for blessings on everyone from the church high and mighty to the little old lady in the nursing home. The reader came to a point where she read the names of soldiers killed in the silly and pathetic wars Bush started and Obama has not the balls to finish.

Ok... where is god or God or Yahweh, or G-d or whatever in all this? Why do wars and killing persist and we glorify it; all in the name of whatever god or prophet we are hooked on at the time? Makes no sense. So again I was in the middle of a church service and thought again "what hooey....". I glanced at my watch to see how long it was before Bloody Mary time.

My friends Amy and Megan are on a similar journey, but instead of throwing in the towel, they seem to persist in finding a church to meet their needs and wants; one like we had and was dismantled. Of the two, Megan is closer to me in her thoughts. It was one of her blogs (you must read 10 Churches) in which she mused:

"Of course, I’ve tried to contemporize the story. I’ve studied it academically and come up with a logical answer: it’s all one giant metaphor. After a couple days of mourning, the disciples asked themselves, “What would Jesus do?” and headed out to spread the good news. His ideas were resurrected. His body, however, was not."

I think she is on to something. Christianity is absorbed, possessed and verily controlled by a desire to ensure its existence by perpetuating a myth. Thus the message is lost in a cloud of incense scented ritual or rigid dogma. Look what churches are debating: who to let in or kick out, who to ordain or not, money, sex, buildings, structure, scandal, politics, growth, oh yes.. and money again. Where is peace, love, love all, care for the poor... the things that the person that was Jesus obviously taught and very likely died for? If one reads the Bible with a critical mind, you'll find more contradictions, missing chapters, inaccuracies and implausible events than a 5th grader's attempt at a novel.

So why do I even bother, why am I even considering still being a church goer? For me, it has been a wonderful social outlet. I have met my dearest and most wonderful friends at churches I have attended for any length of time. I am not one of those folks who enters a room and immediately knows everyone or glad hands all he sees. I tend to keep my distance and people do the same to me. But for some reason in a church setting, I feel more comfortable and I feel a connection to the people there. "The fellowship of kindred minds" as the old hymn goes rings true. So I have this fear that if I abandon church all together, I will be left in the cold.

That is worse than being left in hell.

Must Hear Concerts # 1 Brahms-Schoenberg Piano Quartet

Just a short two weeks away (give or take a few days), the Kansas City Symphony will open its 2011-2012 season in its new home, The Kauffman Center for the Performing Arts. This astounding edifice will literally put Kansas City on the musical map. Some coastal snorts probably think it is just a new boondoggle built by us locals to keep some workers employed and to make our town look like we are in the big leagues. But not so the Kauffman (please DO NOT start calling it "The K" like the stadium), which is truly a top rank performing arts venue. The new season is chock full of favorites and crowd pleasers to ensure the capacity crowds (just try to get a decent ticket for some concerts) come back for more but also features some more interesting and rarely heard  pieces that I will not want to miss. This is the first of a couple two or three posts on what I think are some of this season's more off beat "must hear" works.

I am not a big fan of Brahms. Yes, it is true...and I know 99.9873% of those who read this are. But I just have never warmed to the big, heavy, foursquare, unadventurous, monotone works that Johannes produced. However, there are a couple that intrigue me mainly because they are the antithesis of the above. Someone must have been listening to me whine, since one was on last season's Kansas City Symphony calendar, the charming and delicate "Alto Rhapsody" for Alto, Men's Chorus and Orchestra. This January, frequent guest Asher Fisch will present Brahms' Piano Quartet op 25 as orchestrated by Arnold Schoenberg (who thought Brahms was a progressive genius by being regressive... or something like that) along with a future off-beat must hear selection, the discarded "Blumine" movement from Mahler's Symphony # 1 in a concert that will probably not pack in the crowds like October's German Requiem (don't ask my opinion) will.

Brahms composed his first Piano Quartet in 1861. Compared to what Liszt, Wagner, Berlioz were doing (and even some of the late chamber works of Beethoven), it was positively old fashioned. Brahms did succeed in writing a grand piece, symphonic in scope and length but hampered by the restrictions of his ensemble.

Schoenberg argued that Brahms was progressive since he tended to make use of frequently limited and tightly controlled thematic material, much like Schoenberg's 12 tone system. However, in his orchestral works, Brahms was far from a colorful or delicate orchestrator and therein lies the tale. The constricted material needs some color and contrast to effectively show off how brilliant it really can be. Unlike the dour Johannes, Schoenberg could take a 3 or 4 note cell (his student Webern could too) and with his masterful orchestration and tight control over dynamics and texture make it seem like an unchained melody. Schoenberg liked the Op 25 Quartet, heard the symphony hiding within that Brahms could or would not hear (Brahms famously took a while to get up the nerve to actually write a full orchestral symphony) and set to work orchestrating it for full orchestra in 1937.

Schoenberg did not change a single note of the original score, but he sometimes radically altered Brahms' compositional style. Far from just adding splashy color, Schoenberg's orchestration illustrates Brahms' finely wrought melodies and motives and emphasizes the symphonic scope of Brahms' original work. Relying less on a typical Brahmsian string dominated texture, Schoenberg used brass (including some pretty raucous trombones and trumpets) to double the whole melodic line rather than simply introduce them to reinforce a climax . Winds are more prominent as well. Schoenberg's used the definitely non-Brahmsian xylophone in his recasting of the "Rondo alla Zingarese" fourth movement to great effect. Like seeing a cleaned fresco or a colorized film, new details emerge that not only changes the appearance but gives a fresh perspective to the art.

The work is in four movements, again another example of  its symphonic yearnings. The opening Allegro is a study in contrasting themes (5 of them) that benefit greatly from the expanded palate. The second movement is a gentle Intermezzo; Schoenberg uses extensive pizzicato in this movement to bring out some usually hidden rhythmic details. The slow movement's march section comes to full life with the full brass and percussion, giving it some gravitas that the quartet can never match. Using contrasting string techniques of Schoenberg's inventive use of strings and winds brings highlights the powerful forward motion mixed easily with quiet delicacy in the final pages of this movement, missing in the more monochrome original.  In the style of his Hungarian Dances, the finale dances and sings with bright percussion, braying brass, skittering winds and clashing cymbals, you almost want to shout "Huzzah!" at the end , caught up in the colorful, propulsive dance.

Those who love Brahms and the few of us that do not will love this arrangement. Like a jailer with a key, Schoenberg unlocked the gates, giving the imprisoned notes their freedom to dance and soar for a time.

Mahler "Blumine" from Symphony # 1
Mozart Concerto for Piano # 17 (Asher Fisch Conductor and Soloist)
Brahms-Schoenberg Piano Quintet # 1 op 25

January 13, 14 and 15 Helzberg Hall

Summerfest KC: Finale

The last day of July, another 100 degree day, brings the SummerFest concert series to a close. Three short contrasting works comprised the first half, the Muzio Clementi Trio in D op 31 # 2 for Piano, Violin and Cello, "Three Character Pieces" for viola and bassoon by Tunsian born Iraqi-American Karim Al-Zand and "Petroushskates" by Joan Tower. The last half consisted of a grand finale of sorts, using many of the Summerfest instrumentalists in a single work, the Brahms Serenade # 1 op 11 in the original chamber version.

Fitting Clementi's title of "father of the piano", his trio was dominated by the piano with the strings as accompaniment, almost a piano concerto with a tiny orchestra. Charming, bubbly and full of skittering melodies, the piece was a delightful and audience pleasing opener. Pianist Dan Velicer chose to emulate a period pianoforte with his crisp and somewhat brittle tone, perfect for the piece. The string parts were a bit thankless, but Mary Grant, violin and Susie Yang, Cello made the best of it, contributing to a finely wrought performance.

I was prepared to not like the Al-Zand work, written in 2006 apparently for two friends, since I could not imagine a more unappealing paring of viola and bassoon. I didn't hate it, but it just didn't quite always work. The composer describes the work as "short vignettes mostly light-hearted and cheerful". The first vignette fared best with the two instruments, similar in tone and range, weaving a wandering melodic line between them. It went nowhere, but that was part of the point. The second piece "Moderate Groove" was more like "Moderate Dyspepsia". The bassoon's burping leaps from belch to squeek accompanied by groans and moans from the viola just left me queasy. The brisk last piece "Buoyant, lively" skittered along merrily to a comic end, eliciting twitters (non-electronic) from the audience.

Joan Tower's music has often left me feeling it is more contrived than genuine, relying on catchy titles or programs to disguise some rather ordinary music. "Petroushskates" fit that bill nicely. A realization of Stravinsky's harlequin tale on ice skates scored for violin, cello, flute, clarinet and piano, the piece vaguely takes the chords from the Shrovetide Fair scene and creates a manic perpetuum mobile of sliding chords and phrases. Probably fun to play but, as was my only attempt at ice skating, more of an ordeal than a pleasure to hear.

The origins of Brahms' Serenade #1 are shrouded in a bit of mystery and musicological controversy. Some say it began as an octet, then a nonet, or for small orchestra before emerging in the orchestral version most known today. It may have began as a 5 or maybe 4 movement work before Brahms added a second scherzo to make it a 6 movement symphonic serenade; we don't know for sure since Brahms apparently discarded the original chamber manuscripts. Several arrangements and reconstructions exist; this afternoon's was a 6 movement version for 10 players (basically the nonet with a second violin: violins, viola, cello, bass, flute, oboe, clarinet, bassoon and horn). Regardless of all the details, the end really justifies the means, for the music is delightful in this reduced scoring, lightening the texture and bringing out (as reduced scorings do) the inner voices and harmonies. When the playing is as precise and enthusiastic as this performance, it is doubly satisfying.

Especially noteworthy was the outstanding horn of Kelly Cornell, which never overwhelmed but took every advantage of Brahms' prominent use of the insrument for both melodic and harmonic effect. The ensemble was usually spot on and well rehearsed yet flowing and flexible. The tempi were a bit on the quick side, not a bad thing at all with Brahms in my opinion. The central adagio worked well in the quicker mode (it is an Adagio non troppo after all) but the two interlocked Minuetti could have been more graceful. The short second scherzo and following Rondo didn't outlast their welcome in a rather long piece and brought the work to a fitting and joyous close.

Yes, I actually said something nice about Brahms. I have made a habit of telling prominent music figures here in KC and elsewhere that I do not care for Brahms. In return I usually receive looks of pity and bewilderment. I tend to like my Brahms in the more obscure forms, such as the wonderful Alto Rhapsody and the Schoenberg arrangement of the Piano Quartet, so this chamber-ized Serenade worked just fine for me.

Again great thanks to the musicians, Summerfest staff and St Mary's for the venue and the fabulous reception afterwards.

Summerfest KC: Transformations

A bit of a different format for my review of the 3rd Kansas City Summerfest concert on Sunday at the wonderful St Mary's Episcopal Church venue. While the opening Haydn Quartet Op #9, one of his earliest yet one that set the stage for the many quartet masterpieces to come, was well played, charming and a perfect opener and the Lowell Liebermann Fantasy on a Fugue by Bach was clever, witty, interesting and equally as well played, two works in this evening's concert and their composers merit a more in depth review.

Carlos Chavez was one of the most influential Mexican composers for a generation. Born in 1899, his six symphonies, colorful ballets and stints as director and or founder of many Mexican musical institutions made an indelible impression in his native land and abroad. But as the most interesting and intelligent program notes by Andrew Granade point out, even those who influence and become masters feel the need to pay homage to their teachers and mentors. Thus Chavez took two works by Debussy and two by Spanish master Manuel de Falla and transformed them into his Trio for Flute, Viola and Harp.

Debussy's popular "Snow is Dancing" comprises the first movement of the trio. The expansion from the piano only original turns the gentle snowflakes into a darker, more menacing and wind whipped snow shower. More than just sound and color, with Chavez's expanded palate the work took on a more profound tone; more of a tone poem than piano prelude. The haunting bell like sounds in the piece were inspired by Indonesian gamelan music and in Chavez's arrangement, the harp is most effective in emulating the soft, snow shrouded bells.

In the second movement, a transformation of "Asturiana" a song for voice and piano from the Siete canciones populaires espanolas by de Falla, the harp takes on not only the piano part but strums in imitation of a guitar. The viola and flute, in their lowest breathiest registers sing the melismatic and haunting melody so effectively and colorfully one does not even miss the voice singing of inconsolable loss that makes even the pine tree weep. The short agitated "Polo" again from the Siete canciones populaires espanolas, became a dramatic, rough and edgy scherzo in between the more lyrical "Asturiana" and the final "Golliwog's Cakewalk" movements.

The Cakewalk, familiar to many, also expands from a short piano prelude to a compact almost symphonic statement. Assigning the viola the Wagner quote from Tristan and Isolde gives the out of nowhere quotation even more pungency and absurdity. The harp and flute giggle haughtily at the off-the-wall, quotation. The ensemble had a nice, jazzy feel for the work and certainly communicated the fun they had in presenting Chavez's loving tribute to his mentors.

I never cease to be amazed at the music of Bohuslav Martinů. From many influences, Czech songs, French impressionism, jazz, music of the classical and baroque eras, Martinů nonetheless possessed a most distinctive voice. The characteristics of infectious rhythm, bright and often brittle sonority combine with jaunty folk like melodies, jazzy riffs and an unfailing ear for orchestration gracing every work of his I have ever heard, so what is not to love? Besides, the music looks like is as much fun to play as it is to hear.

Thus a fitting ending for the evening was one of his last works, the Musique de Chambre #1 from 1959, imaginatively scored for violin, viola, cello, clarinet, harp and piano. Out of the depths of an ambiguous introduction come the Gypsy/Romani melodies and figures over harp and piano ostinati. You would be correct in even tasting a bit of the blues here and here, as Martinů turns this brief opening movement into a nostalgic travelogue.

The slow second movement could have been from the pen of Ravel or Debussy with its misty meditative mood and chiaroscuro harmonies. Prominent Harp and viola lent a melancholy atmosphere to this most beguiling movement. The finale would have you to believe it is more of the same with its contemplative opening, but the ghosts are dispelled and the motoric rhythms and dance return, propelling the work to a dancing conclusion.

Please, Kansas City music groups, program more Martinů. The KC Symphony did the 4th Symphony, but there are 5 others. The incredible "The Frescoes of Piero della Francesca" would be nice too. The Kansas City Chamber Orchestra would be a natural to do some of his chamber works and concerti and Summerfest programmers should note the rousing applause given this evening's performance.

Thanks so much to St Mary's Episcopal Church for a lovely venue and a bountiful reception and to Rev. Lauren Lyon for her special kindness this evening!

Summerfest KC: Scarlatti and Blackbirds

Giving us music lovers a welcome respite from the summer drought of classical music, a dedicated group of local and guest musicians mount the annual Summerfest Chamber Series in Kansas City. The series of 4 concerts is a casual affair for the most part, performed Saturday evenings at the UMKC White Recital Hall and Sunday afternoons at St Mary's Episcopal Church. I am a bit prejudiced since I attend services at St Mary's but the ambiance of the ancient brick church with the polished but well worn wood floors, creaky seats and the hint of incense in the air makes for a most pleasant listening environment.

True to their formula, Sunday's concert combined the new and old, familiar and rarely heard. The Sonata # 2 for Flute, Violin and continuo by Alessandro Scarlatti opened the concert. 20th century composer Jean Francaix took 5 of Alessandro's son Domenico's sonatas and orchestrated them for Flute, Violin, Viola, Cello and Harp. The first half concluded with Vivaldi's Concerto for Bassoon and Orchestra. The second half consisted of a single work, the atmospheric and delightful "13 Ways" by American Thomas Albert, a setting of Wallace Stevens' "13 Ways of Looking at a Blackbird".

The Alessandro Scarlatti was a fitting opener, but suffered a bit from some iffy intonation and a too soft harpsichord. I don't like the harpsichord banging and chattering too loud (like two skeletons copulating on a tin roof in a thunderstorm according to Sir Thomas Beecham) but it should also be heard as at least part of the texture and harmony.

Francaix, via his skillful orchestration, took the more familiar Domenico's sonatas and made them into something new and fresh. Once could be excused if it seemed these were originally written in the early 20th century; characteristic they are of neo-classic Stravinsky or members of Les Six. As with Schoenberg and Webern's orchestrations of older works, Francaix's quintessentially sec French orchestration makes meaningful melody and motives out of what seem like common baroque ornaments. Giving melody and prominence to the cello, the liquid softness of the harp plus the mellow darkness of the viola adds some unexpected color as well. As one of my friends who attended the concert quipped, "I liked the redone Scarlatti better than the real Scarlatti." Scarlatti's sonatas are masterpieces on their own, but Francaix took them out of their shell and led them through a jaunty tour of France.

In the short and sweet Vivaldi (with an orchestra of a couple of strings and continuo), Soloist Joshua Hood reminded us that the bassoon is in all aspects a bass oboe with all that instrument's color and expressiveness.

Thomas Albert's 13 Ways (1997) is a most charming and approachable piece and was well received by the large audience. Each of the 13 sections is prefaced by some lines from Wallace's poem, read by various members of the ensemble (flute, clarinet, string trio, piano and percussion, with various doublings from the winds). Certainly atmospheric and quite descriptive of everything from the chattering and flocking of the ubiquitous birds, frosty mornings and languid evenings. The 5th look (..the blackbird whistling or just after) had the ensemble striking metal triangles and then dipping them in buckets of water for a most otherworldly effect, all while a piccolo chattered away. The faster or more dramatic sections used a breezy John Adams minimalist style while the 12th look (the river if flowing, the blackbird must be flying) had echoes of Bernard Hermann's imaginative film scores with its alto flute, bass marimba and slowly undulating strings.

The ensemble clearly had fun with the piece, which not only included the aforementioned water percussion and the narration but also involved the players moving occasionally around the room. Well played and presented, and compared well with the recording on Cedille records by the Eighth Blackbird ensemble, for whom the work was composed.

I missed the first concert last weekend but will be present at the next featuring a rarely heard trio for Flute, Viola and Harp by Carlos Chavez and the wonderful Musique de Chambre # 1 by Martinu.

Art of the Car 2011

The annual Art of the Car Concours was held this weekend on the grounds of the Kansas City Art Institute. Celebrating the style and power of the automobile as a work of art, 180 cars graced the lawn on a hot, but cloudy Sunday. Rain threatened but thankfully held off allowing nearly 5,000 people to enjoy some wonderful, rare and beautiful machines.

We were greeted by the toothy grin of Dunbar the Buick's Great Great Uncle, a 1941 Super Convertible.

Greg relaxed and watched the crowd mingle. In center is a 1932 Cord 812 Beverly sedan.

A close up of the futuristic Cord, one of the most influential designs from the 30's. Front wheel drive too.

A massive and rare 1928 Cunningham V5. Picture does not do justice to the size of this classic. Cunningham was a hand built car from an old line carriage company in Rochester, NY. Ceasing production in 1931, they built hand made wooden hearse bodies for a few more years. V5 did not mean a V shaped 5 cylinder engine, but was a series name.

A jaunty 1920 Kissel Gold Bug Speedster. Amelia Earhart owned one.

A relic from the steam age. 1910 Stanley Model 62.

A one off show car by Nash from 1956. The Palm Beach was pure Nash underneath but sported a Pinninfarina body. If only... (sorry no back half of car, there was a crowd around it)

1953 saw the debut of 3 limited production super-luxo tourers from almighty GM as well as the similar Packard Caribbean. This one of them, a Buick Skylark. Greg noted the similarity in the side sculpture on today's Buicks, probably not a co-incidence.

The big, distinctive grille work of the Skylark

The luxurious hand made leather interior of the Skylark



A lucky survivor, 1974 Buick Le Sabre Luxus Convertible. Convertibles were on their way out by 1974, Buick built its last big convertible in 1975. One of 3,827 built, all original with 8,000 miles.

A big honking toothy 1948 Buick Super Convertible

A Chrysler Town and Country convertible from 1946. Lots of real wood work on this handsome machine.

A classy Mercedes 250 SEC from 1966

1947 Bentley, I always preferred the more rakish Bentley grille over the upright Rolls.

The air cooled Franklin 4 door sedan from 1926. Amelia Earhart had one of these too. She was a car nut.

Cadillac style from 1941 Fleetwood 60 Special

A rare visitor from Great Britain, a swoopy 1948 Diamler Green Goddess.

Stylish art deco steering wheel of a top of the line Studebaker President. 1938

Yep A Doozie! 1929 LeBaron bodied J

Even a Duesenburg engine is a work of art

Packards were out in force, a 1948 Packard Custom Eight.

Ask The Man Who Owns One 1934 Packard 1105 Super Eight 7 passenger sedan

The 7 passenger sedan was a loooooong piece of work!

Another Packard Convertible a 1932 902 Eight Coupe Roadster.

Minty fresh Packard 903 Deluxe Eight Convertible.

The imposing visage of a 1932 Packard 903 Deluxe Eight Sport Phaeton.

The interior of the Deluxe Eight oozed luxury and hand crafted style.

A Ford Flathead V8, but where is it at??....

...in the rear of a very rare (9 built) 1936 Stout Scarab. Art Deco in looks but way ahead of its time inside; almost a minivan in concept with a center folding table and swiveling chairs. This one came from North Carolina.

NASCAR inspired Ford Torino Talladega, built for speed on the super speedways of the day.

Season Finale Concert Bruch and Tchaikovsky

So yesterday I mused about the final performances of the Kansas City Symphony at the venerable Lyric Theatre. (Season Finale) As advertised, the orchestra treated the audience to a champagne celebration on the steps of the old girl, toasting her years of service. Before and after that, we were treated to a fine swan song of a concert befitting a grand theatre. Michael Stern, Music Director, led the orchestra in three crowd pleasing works, The Hebrides Overture by Mendelssohn, the Bruch Scottish Fantasy with violinist Stefan Jackiw as solo and concluded with the grand and dramatic Tchaikovsky 4th Symphony.

By now you know that the triumvirate of Mendelssohn, Schumann and Brahms are not on the top of my list of composers that I would take with me on the proverbial desert island. Mendelssohn's Overture (also known as "Fingal's Cave") received a fine but somewhat subdued performance from the orchestra. The winds as usual were in fine form, contributing to an agitated opening section, depicting the wild Hebredean seas. Stern kept the overture at a fair pace, but I did not feel the epic flow and grandeur that Mendelssohn saw in the rugged cave. Maybe the somewhat fussy and square Mendelssohn just couldn't put it into music. The strings were in good form as were the brass and spotless horns.

Stefan Jackiw (the unpronounceable looking name is Jack-eev I am told) has all the potential to be one of the finest violinists of his generation. At 26, he has made quite a name for himself with very mature, sensitive yet powerful performances. I have heard him in a wonderful Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto performance with the Russian National Orchestra and in a solo recital. Jackiw and Stern offered the popular Bruch piece (at almost 30 minutes truly a violin concerto and more than just a trifle "fantasy") in a somewhat relaxed performance. Jackiw's tone was always spot on and clear, even in the highest registers, which Bruch used to great effect in this truly Scottish tinged work. His double stop melodic lines could have easily come from a Scotsman's viol or pipes as he sang his long and winding tunes. If the slower movements were a bit leisurely, the certainly allowed Stern, the orchestra and soloist to milk every turn and intimate detail of this complex and full score.

Jackiw was magnificent in the second movement's earthy, bagpipe drone influenced, main melody with special shout out to principal flute Michael Gordon for his incredible duet with Jackiw in this movement, matching the soaring skittering violin in every note. The Andante sostenuto 3rd movement was sweetly singing but again a bit reticent. The popular dancing finale seemed to light a fire under all concerned, with Jackiw's constant double stops pristine and clear, with just the right amount of grit. Certainly the capacity audience appreciated the sensitive and detailed performance.

Used to be I would cringe whenever I knew the KCS horns were all exposed and important. The incredibly powerful opening horn figure of the Tchaikovsky 4th is one such place, but demonstrating the transformation from small town orchestra to regional powerhouse, the horns were solid, bright, commanding, powerful but not overbearing. I knew we were in for something special. Seemingly igniting as if this were the last time they would ever play period, the orchestra nailed every passage, followed Stern's brisk but never rushed tempo, relishing every surging, drama filled passage of this hyper-romantic work. Yet, as in the wistful waltz like center section of the first movement, the orchestra could hold back and produce some contrasting delicate sounds as well.

Fine wind work as usual, commanding yet well integrated brass, judiciously used but spectacular percussion (the wonderful 3 cymbal pair crash) and crisp and together strings abounded. In particular the pizzicato strings were magnificent in the swift and vibrant Scherzo. The festive and busy finale brought the work, the 2010-2011 season and the career of the Lyric to a grand conclusion.

Season Finale

Saturday AM I, as I have many times, opened my drop leaf desk, reached into the far right cubby hole and got the tickets for the weekend's Kansas City Symphony concert. Emblazoned on this set was "Season Finale: Tchaikovsky's 4th", obviously signaling the end of the road for this season. But more than that, this concert is the last in the venerable, lovely, frustrating, historic, acoustically nightmarish Lyric Theatre. Many are rejoicing, awaiting the new Moshe Safdie/Yasuhisa Toyota built Kauffman Arts Center. Some old timers want to cling to the past.

Befitting a befuddled Pisces, I have mixed emotions. The Lyric is a monument to 1920's Roman influenced architecture, and was modeled after the Temple of Vesta in Rome. Built as a Shrine Temple, it has been a movie theatre, live theatre, TV studio, opera house, ballet theatre and concert hall, frequently all at once. One can only imagine the great artists who have performed on its cramped stage. As I mentioned in a past post about the last performances of the Lyric Opera, (Retirement) many patrons seem to relish the intimacy and small venue atmosphere of the Lyric while others just thought it crowded. The wonderful detail in the ceiling of the hall, the huge columns, marble and big heavy doors lent an air of solid craftsmanship.

One just had to experience a performance in the old girl to realize her major shortcomings. The stage is small and cramped, limiting what opera can do. When the chorus joined the orchestra on stage, everyone was squished together virtually sitting on top of each other. With only one theatre shared by the symphony, opera and ballet, the various groups had to often rehearse in different locations and then spend crunch time getting used to the theatre.

For us patrons, the orchestra level had more spacious seats but offered muddy, dull and often simply dead acoustics, especially if you were trapped under the balcony. From many seats you could not see past the first couple rows of the orchestra; the winds, brass and percussion could be cardboard cutouts with speakers blaring recordings for all we know. The balcony had better sound and better views, but the seats were cramped with no legroom. I think European low cost airline Ryanair was inspired by the Lyric.

Tonight I and my friend Gerry (who replaced Barbara after she moved away) will occupy Right Center Balcony Row G seats 7 and 8 for the last time. Gerry is one that is thrilled about the move as he hated the cramped seats. He liked the orchestra section, but I was a butt and refused to move. Next season is Grand Tier row AAA # 117 and 118. The ticket office fellow gleefully told me that even though the seats for the next better section were gone, these were actually closer to the stage than my old seats, and had lots of leg room. That should make Gerry happy.

I saw lots of fine productions and concerts at the old Lyric, but I guess it is time now to move on. The new center is the talk of the concert world; according to those who have tested the waters, it is superb. The orchestra's Helzberg Hall will have a fabulous 4 manual, 102 rank Casavant organ installed early next year, the opera theatre has seat back screens for translations and scene descriptions. Great things are coming.

They are having a champagne toast to say good bye to the old girl tonight (I hope they learned from the last time and do NOT pop the corks before the first half ends) and I will join all to cheer the Grande Dame's glorious past and reflect on her murky future.

Kansas City Symphony: Mena Conducts Grieg, Beethoven and Schumann

A sultry Saturday evening in KC extended its grip inside the venerable Lyric Theatre last night, the vintage AC units straining to cool the vast space. Perhaps the old building was groaning out a last protest towards its imminent demise as a performance space. Nevertheless, the show goes on and frequent guest Juanjo Mena was on hand to lead the Kansas City Symphony in a program of Grieg, Beethoven and Schumann. German pianist Markus Groh was the soloist in the Beethoven 3rd Piano Concerto.

Opening this program of music firmly rooted in the 19th century was the Lyric Suite op 54 by Grieg. One of Grieg's greatest accomplishments is that of his set of 66 Lyric Pieces for piano composed in 10 books from 1867 to 1901. Many of them such as Wedding Day At Troldhaugen, To Spring, March of the Trolls, and Butterfly are known to just about anyone who studied piano. Many of the little pieces have been arranged for orchestra but the set from op 54 (Shepherd Boy, Norwegian March, Nocturne and March of the Trolls) is most often performed and recorded.

A hint of shaky string intonation at the very beginning of the lyrical and passionate "Shepherd Boy" did not bode well, and indeed one could have asked for a bit more flexibility in phrasing and some harp to penetrate the string only texture. The "Norwegian March' came together well with some excellent as usual woodwind work (the recurring little clarinet figures for example), the brass were foreboding but never overwhelming. "Nocturne" could have used a bit more flow and grace but was redeemed again by fine winds. The final "March of the Trolls" must be great fun to play and the orchestra came to life with a perfect blend of macabre and bouncy enthusiasm.

In his 3rd Piano Concerto from 1800, Beethoven said Auf Wiedersehen to the more elegantly formal concerti of Haydn and Mozart and set about writing a most symphonic concerto. The opening orchestral tutti is a fully argued symphonic statement in and of itself, not merely a flourish filled opener. The piano is more fully integrated into the orchestral texture and is key to introducing new themes and setting a movement's tempo. This emphasis on symphonic argument and development renders this Beethoven's least "flashy" and, ultimately for me, most satisfying concerto. Groh and Mena and the orchestra seemed to agree with this assessment, milking all the subtle yet frequently palpable drama from the work. Groh's first movement cadenza was a perfect example of this, well integrated into the whole fabric, alternatively sweetly lyrical and boldly flashing.

The Largo, in all intents and purposes a nocturne worthy of Chopin, second movement begins with a simple prayer and ends with an elaborate song of praise. Groh's tone and rhythm was fluid and graceful, never slack, allowing the piano to sing its long, winding phrases. The orchestra mostly accompanies and comments in this movement and the forces well knew their role.

Groh launched into the fleet and spicy rondo with abandon, the orchestra following close behind, but getting overwhelmed in the brisk final measures. Groh tossed off the runs with grace and style, but unlike the unbeatable master Leon Fleisher, he didn't give the complex runs the subtle variations in tempo and emphasis that marks a superb performance.

Thankfully, someone got to the audience and there was no applause between movements as has been the custom as of late. Maybe they were too hot.

I rate Robert Schumann along with Brahms as one of those colorless, foursquare mid 19th century composers whose music just does not speak to me. I know many, many disagree with me, but it is what it is with me, dear readers. Thus a performance of Schumann's Symphony # 4 (not really his last, but as with many composers of his era, the numbering is AFU) was not my idea of a grand time on a hot summer night in a hot old theatre. Thankfully, Mena and the orchestra felt otherwise and delved into the score with relish. The first movement was perfectly dramatic, the brass forceful but never making the texture even more dense. The short Romanze was fine and Mena used just the right amount of tempo and dynamic change to relate the movement back to the introduction of the first movement, making them one grand gesture. Of course the whole symphony is played without much or any pause, making the whole thing one mega-sinfonia. A breezy and well articulated scherzo followed with some fine rhythmic string work from the strings. If the strings go slack, the whole shebang becomes even more turgid, and that certainly was not the case last night. Mena seemed to really relish the Viennese waltz segments of the scherzo's trio. The strings and brass were majestic in the grand transition from the scherzo to the finale, bringing the work to a fine conclusion.

Ok, maybe a better piece than I give it credit for (Schumann, especially his fabulous 2nd Symphony is a rung above Brahms in my book anyway) especially when an orchestra and conductor give a fine performance to an audience that by the end of the stifling evening seemed to want to just get on with it.

As for those who are bristling with my Schumann bashing, note that I actually have and sometimes actually listen to 4 Schumann Symphony sets in my collection, Szell/Cleveland, Bernstein/NYP, Dohnanyi/Cleveland and Chailly/Leipzig with Mahler's "Retuschen" that I actually find interesting, further infuriating the Schumann fans in the crowd.

Only one more concert series to go in the old Lyric Theatre in a couple weeks. Hopefully Helzberg Hall will have better HVAC than the old Lyric, or maybe as I said, the old girl is just shooing us out.

Kansas City Symphony: Brahms, Beethoven and Prokofiev

Ask any of my classical music loving friends and they will tell you Brahms is not high on my list of favorites. There is a notable exception to this and that is the first piece on this weekend's Kansas City Symphony concert, Music Director Michael Stern on the podium: the lovely and compact "Alto Rhapsody", opus 53 performed by Mezzo-Soprano Sasha Cooke as solo and the Kansas City Symphony Chorus. Beethoven's sunny Symphony # 1 and Prokofiev's dramatic cantata "Alexander Nevsky" completed the program.

Written as a wedding present for Robert and Clara Schumann's daughter Julie, this gentle and yet frequently passionate jewel is not frequently heard in concert, probably due to the requirement of a solo alto/contralto and a sizable male chorus. Pity, for it is one of Brahms' most heartfelt and ingenious works. One of my aforementioned problems with Brahms is my perception that his orchestration and sound is colorless and conventional. Although the Rhapsody uses a standard classical orchestra, the deft writing for the alto voice coupled with the subtle power of the male chorus combines to create a stunningly beautiful and powerful message. The chorus is used sparingly, but to say it is in the background negates its important contribution.

Unlike some singers with such a cognac colored voice, Cooke's is clarion clear and free of wobble. The first two verses (from Goethe's "Harzreise im Winter") were appropriately anguished and touched with poignancy. When the clouds lift and the mood and key changes ("If there is on your psalter Father of love, one note his ear can hear then refresh his heart!"), Cooke's voice lightened and soared, the mood fully warmed by the clear and superbly balanced chorus. A most lovely and sincere performance by an artist at the height of her voice, accompanied by a fully seasoned and capable chorus and orchestra.

Beethoven was still under the spell of Papa Haydn when he wrote his Symphony # 1 in the last years of the 18th century, yet one can hear themes, rhythms and motives that will come to full fruition in the Eroica and beyond. Stern and the orchestra were truly in full command of this charming work, bringing out the drama and tension where appropriate and yet milking all its grace and wit as well. Especially noteworthy was the fleet and limber "Menuetto, Allegro molto e vivace" 3rd movement, a full symphonic scherzo in all but name, with precise strings and gaily chattering winds. The finale was taken at a brisk but not inappropriate tempo. The opening slow introduction was colored with the right amount of drama, the skittering strings taking the work to a grand conclusion.

Editorial: But please, KCS audience, WHO (???) is behind all the clapping after each movement? You didn't used to do that, but suddenly it seems all the rage. You all aren't rubes, you know better!

Prokofiev, like his countryman Shostakovich did to a much greater extent, turned to film music to make a living. Prokofiev, however, took his some of his film work and reworked it into concert forms. The score to "Alexander Nevsky", a 1938 Sergei Eisenstein film of the same name, was thus soon reworked by the composer into a dramatic cantata for chorus, mezzo solo and orchestra.

The work in 7 sections culled from the longer film score demands a large orchestra and chorus. Happily, Stern and all the forces delivered a dramatic and convincing performance. The usual God-awful Lyric acoustics muddled the chorus when the orchestra was in full throttle, but for the most part the chorus and orchestra were well balanced. The chorus seemed to be well drilled in this rhythmically challenging music and thus were precise in their diction and clean in their entrances. They certainly could menacingly shout and snarl when called upon, which was quite often.

The opening "Russia under the Mongols" dripped with melancholy over the occupation of Mother Russia, while the chorus foreshadowed the coming battles with their menacing tone. The "Crusaders in Pskov" section mockingly used Latin to evoke the brutal invaders, the chorus and large orchestra oozing with barely contained outrage; leading directly to the boldly confident "Arise ye Russian People", filled with folk song and dance.

Many consider "The Battle on the Ice" section the epitome of battle music and one of the most effective uses of music in film. Stern and the vast forces dug into the music with a furious and cinematic performance. Here the big sound of the full orchestra sometimes shoved the chorus into the background, but the whole sound was perfectly overwhelming.

While "Battle on the Ice" may be the more famous, the following "The Field of the Dead" is in my opinion Prokofiev's supreme achievement. A dark lament of a girl seeking her lost lover, Sasha Cooke's dramatic, tender yet almost shell shocked performance was well neigh perfect. Again, as in the Brahms, Cooke was dark and creamy but never becoming clotted cream. Her lament was sincere and frankly, for me, the highlight of the work. The orchestra and chorus brought the work to a cacophonous, huzzah! conclusion with Alexander's triumphal "Entry into Pskov", bells, brass, percussion (it was fun to watch the percussionist mount the ladder to strike the huge tuned metal plate) and chorus to the fore.

As an aside, it is somewhat unnerving to realize that I have only two more concerts in my now comfortable (well as comfortable as one can be in the cramped balcony, maybe "familiar" is a better term) Right Center Balcony Row G seat 7 perch. The new Kauffman Center is about done, the orchestra was treated to its first rehearsal there (thus making the Beethoven 1st the first music for orchestra heard in the new hall) and from all the buzz is quite spectacular. Sad in a way to see the lovely and historic (oh what great musicians have performed there) become redundant, but KC has a glut of theatre and concert hall venues so I do not see a rosy future for the old girl.

Nevertheless, performances like these make the legacy of the Lyric all the more wonderful and important.

Mahler 10

Gustav Mahler died on this date 100 years ago. At that moment one of the greatest musical voices was stilled at the all too young age of 50. Racked with disease (which simple antibiotics could have cured, but alas had not been discovered as of yet) saddened with grief over a daughter who had recently died and the revelation of his unfaithful wife Alma and her affairs, many who saw him thought he looked 25 years older.

Mahler spent much of his last 3 years in New York at both the Metropolitan Opera, overseeing some widely acclaimed productions and then at the New York Philharmonic where some say his influence reigns today. Sadly, since this was before recording an orchestra became practical, we have no record of a Mahler led performance. We are poorer for that.

Despite his busy opera and concert schedule, Mahler found time to compose in the summer when he returned to Vienna and his summer cottage in the mountains. There he set to paper, in these last days, 3 masterpieces, the 9th Symphony, "Das Lied von der Erde" and the mysterious, controversial and often misunderstood unfinished Symphony # 10.

If the 9th and "Das Lied" are stories unto their own, the 10th is worthy of a novel.

Mahler worked feverishly on the 10th during the summer of 1910 in Austria. He had completed the 9th and Das Lied but had yet to have them performed. Dear Gustav thought he had cheated the curse of the ninth (a superstition that all great composers will die after completing their 9th symphony, as did Beethoven) by interjecting "Das Lied" in between the 8th and 9th, making the unnumbered "Das Lied" a de facto 9th. Thus a grand 10th was planned and soon was making great progress before he left Austria in September to fulfill his obligations in New York. Becoming progressively sicker, he returned to Europe in April and died in Vienna in May. The 10th, partially done but awaiting the summer Mahler never saw, lay incomplete.

If his wife Alma and friend Bruno Walter had their way, we would have heard none of the work at all. The opening Adagio was complete and fully orchestrated and scored. The other 4 movements were in various stages of completion, but the music, the notes as it were, were all there. What was missing was orchestration, dynamics, phrasing and the inevitable revisions. Because of that only the Adagio was ever published but rarely played. Alma forbid any completions.. Walter wanted it all destroyed. I have never forgiven him for that.

Since there is much material to work on, several completions have been made of this remarkable work. Clinton Carpenter completed a version as early as 1949 but only published a final version in 1966, Hans Wollschläger worked on a version in the 50's but gave up. English musicologist Joe Wheeler did several versions in the 50's and 60's as well. Another English musicologist Deryck Cooke published his version in 1964 after rousing much interest in the work in a pioneering radio broadcast in 1960. Cooke's version was the first to be performed in 1964 in London with the LSO under the direction of Berthold Goldschmidt, who, truth be known, contributed more than he has been credited. These historic performances, plus Cooke's 1960 illustrated lecture can be heard in a Testament release. Since then others have made their own versions, and all have their supporters, but that of Cooke (and subsequent revisions) has become the standard.

My tired eyes and hands can not permit me to go on all much longer, so I will spare you a note by note description of this fabulous work, it is one that has to be heard. Any completion of an unfinished work is an amalgam of compromise and educated guess work, and the Mahler 10th is no exception. But since the adagio was complete and so much of the music is there, what we have is a flawed, certainly not as Mahler intended, symphony that is so powerful it is hardly describable in words. Mahler was moving into a new sound world with the 10th (the 9th too for that matter); gone were the Wunderhorn Songs, the cowbells and folk instruments, replaced by lean, spare textures, darker sounds and the beginnings of dissonant expressionism. Mahler's anguish fills every page. The last movement begins with a muffled funeral drum (controversy rages to this day as to the number of beats, volume and texture of that drum), ends with a scream of pain and release to an angelic close. In between is one of the most achingly beautiful melodies ever written.

Something in this piece speaks to me like nothing else. I first heard it in the 70's on a Decatur Public Library LP of the first commercial recording by Ormandy/Philadelphia. Since then I have amassed every recording ever made, either LP, CD or download (we don't always talk about those). If you want a list of the recordings, go to the Wikipedia article on Mahler 10 there is a fine list there, compiled by yours truly. I never tire listening to it and it is playing now (Sanderling Berlin SO, one of my favorites) as I write.

Soon I will finish this little essay, grab a glass of wine and listen again to this creation. I will raise a toast to Gustav, immerse my being in the sound, occasionally close my eyes, and, as one would do upon seeing the ruins of antiquity, imagine what Mahler would have done if he had not passed to the great beyond 100 years ago today.

Kansas City Symphony: US Premiere Dorman "Frozen in Time"

Appropriate fare for a concert close to Earth Day, the Kansas City Symphony, under the direction of Music Director Michael Stern, performed 3 works dramatizing the creation of our terrestrial orb. Franz Joseph Haydn's "The Representation of Chaos" from his oratorio "The Creation" opened the program. Darius Milhaud's jazz drenched "La Création du Monde" (The Creation of the World) followed. The first half ended in spectacular fashion with the US premiere of Avner Dorman's "Frozen in Time" Concerto for Percussion and Orchestra, which the composer describes as "an imaginary snapshot of the Earth's geological developments from prehistoric times to the present day. Austrian percussionist Martin Grubinger was soloist. Earthy and elemental in its own right, Dvorák's lively Symphony # 8 comprised the concluding half.

Haydn's "Representation of Chaos" was a most innovative piece for its time. In an era where musical compositions were held to strict form and harmonic relationships, Haydn's diffuse overture seems to have themes, phrases and harmonies shifting to and fro as if in a primordial soup. Structurally, however,it is a fairly tight sonata form. Haydn invokes his "chaos" by avoiding cadences as much as possible and allowing ends of phrases to fade into the texture, foreshadowing Tristan and Isolde many years later. Stern led the reduced orchestra in a leisurely, appropriately meandering performance. Some iffy string intonation at the beginning marred the performance somewhat as the small orchestra left many parts exposed.

French composer Darius Milhaud, like many European composers in the 20's (Stravinsky comes to mind of course), became influenced by jazz. While many copied the almost orchestral bands such as Paul Whiteman, Milhaud's influence was in the small clubs of Harlem, where few white people ventured. When called upon to write a ballet in 1923, Milhaud used this inspiration for "La Création Du Monde", a setting of African creation stories. The small 18 member ensemble (two flutes, oboe, two clarinets, alto saxophone, bassoon, horn, two trumpets, trombone, timpani, percussion, piano, 2 violins, cello and bass) dug into the jazzy score with often appropriately raucous relish, yet frequently relaxed to allow us to savor the colorful details and lovely melodic lines.

Paraphrasing the slogan for Jiffy Pop popcorn from the 1960's, Avner Dorman's "Frozen In Time" Concerto for Percussion and orchestra is as much fun to watch as it is to hear.

An amalgam of earth music ranging from ancient African to jazz and rock, "Frozen In Time" has an elaborately staged but never pretentious program. The first movement "Indoafrica" is based on Indian classical rhythmic cycles and scales. The huge battery of drums transports the music to rhythmic Africa while the marimba and mallets represent the more melodic Indian tradition. "Eurasia", a slower central movement, is laced with elements of European and Central Asian traditions. The ghost of Mozart appears as does the Italian Siciliana and some frosty Nordic chords and sounds. The orchestra strings predominate, underpinning the metallic percussion. Haunting and delicate in contrast to the more frenetic outer movements, "Eurasia" would be satisfying as a stand alone piece. "The Americas", with everything from Cuban dance to Broadway swing, brings the whole work to a most rousing conclusion. Snippets of the "Indoafrican" and "Eurasian" music weave in to remind us we are but one Earth.

The huge orchestra has plenty to do and is surely an integral part of the work, but the show is all the solo's. Martin Grubinger, who premiered the piece and has played all over the world now, is simply indescribable. Lean as an athlete and full of enthusiastic energy, he is fully in command of the work and the percussion. I do hope he records the piece sometime, but only if video is provided. His encore, (my lousy hearing did not let me catch what he was playing, but it seemed to be an Austrian hymn or lullaby of some sort), was the epitome of subtlety. Played on the marimba, often on the threshold of audibility, it left the audience breathless. Both Grubinger and the work received a rapturous ovation that most composers and performers only dream about. Sadly, the composer was not able to be at the performance but he can be assured that Kansas City certainly has many Avner Dorman fans after last night.

Sometimes, after such an overwhelming experience, the final work on the program can seem like an after thought or a fluffy dessert at best. In this case Stern and the orchestra gave a rousing and exquisitely detailed performance of Dvorák's masterpiece. From the delicate opening bars of the introduction through the dancing conclusion of the finale's coda (the various tempo shifts cleanly shaped and accented without jarring, Stern and the orchestra superbly negotiated the score's sweep and flow. Wonderful solos from the always fine KCS winds contributed to this fine and well received performance.

Retirement

After a combined total of around 10 years, I am retiring tonight. It was sort of forced on me; progress often makes people and things redundant. I love that word "redundant", more graceful than "useless" or "unwanted", but still ringing with finality. I don't think my "employer" even really noticed until I mentioned it yesterday when I agreed to work on Wed rather than Friday.

At least 4 times a year since around 1998 (minus my 4 years in St Louis and elsewhere) I volunteered at the Lyric Opera of Kansas City's "Ingram Room", an opulent, private lounge for the most generous of patrons. They could sip a glass of wine from fine gold rimmed, crystal glasses, indulge on hors d'oeuvres or sweets on elegant green and gold plates and chat amiably in the frankly small, over stuffed room.

For the most part, the high and mighty of KC society were a pleasant lot. The truly rich were usually the nicest, the younger working rich (bankers, lawyers, etc) were often the most pretentious and nasty. One lady, whose hubby is with a firm that sponsors some of the productions, is a nasty, royal, trashy pain in the ass. Hope to never see her again. I no longer do business with their business either and that makes me feel better.

It was fun watching the upper crust flit, flirt, munch and sip. Sort of like watching a display in a zoo; species Richius Americanius genus Kansasian Citianius. "Hello!!! how are you, so good to see you!" Yeah, right, I know they hate each other actually. More fun was herding them out at the start or at intermission so we could get on with the real work, enjoying the treats the caterer brought.

For my first few years, Donna was the coordinator. We called her "Angel Bitch". She was the nicest, kindest lady you could know, but her Ingram Room was done her way. Wine bottles were always in a bottle coaster, "labels forward" her demand. We were quiet during the opera, everything in its place. I missed the AB days, they were the best.

One performance found me in my usual place behind the bar when I noticed a couple of ants crawling on the counter. I reported it to AB but she did not want to believe me until she saw the little creatures scurrying around. DISASTER! I soon saw they were coming from a live orchid on the counter. So it was removed and the ants dispatched post haste. Unfortunately, the person who designed the room (in the style of Marie Antoinette's boudoir) was there and was not amused at the removal of the orchid. It was not until Donna showed him the plant crawling with the little critters that he believed it, but still blamed us for ruining the evening. I knew not who this person was, but now I do... nothing has changed.

One of the many people who passed through the Ingram Room was describing one of the hors d'oeuvre selections to a be-furred and glittering patron: "Crudités with a spicy penis..spicy penis....uh uh oh dear a pee sauce...." she stuttered totally embarrassed and tongue twisted. The gracious patron just said "dear, let's just refer to it as 'the sauce'." She was trying to say spicy peanut sauce, but it just was not to be. We laughed until it hurt.

You get to know people's habits when you serve them regularly and they, no matter their station in life, appreciate it. I endeared myself to many by remembering their drink of choice (we usually just had wine, soft drinks and coffee so it was not a big deal) and having it at the ready for their asking. Joan loved a bit of white wine with a splash of sprite on ice for a frosty spritzer at intermission. Evan, the Opera General Manager,usually asked for a Sprite at intermission. When I would hand him one with out asking, he was usually amazed. "I guess they know me here" he mentioned to a fellow patron when presented with the fait accompli. Another patron always wants red wine, so I have one ready for him. Mrs. Ingram always wants decaf coffee at intermission, half a cup please. Jim will always be the first to taste the evening's fare and pronounce his verdict.

Sometimes, I would sneak in and see the opera but often it was more fun just hanging around at intermission, eating the goodies and gossiping. I learned a lot that way, got to hear all the drama of mounting a professional opera and even got to meet some of the cast and composer Jake Heggie to boot. I so wanted to ask him about his life with Johanna Harris, but I thought not to pry.

This week marks the last opera in the old faithful Lyric Theatre. The new Kauffman Theatre at the Kauffman Center (God do those folks have $$$) will replace the venerable structure. There will be a patron lounge, but it will not be "ours". The Center will staff it and cater. The lovely items of the Ingram room were recently sold to benefit the Opera Circle. I got a gold washed brass basket in which we placed napkins or silverware for the desserts. I had washed, served out of, put away or handled in some fashion just about every item in the place so it was fitting that I take one home.

I am sure the Opera's new home will be a whole new experience, with better seats, acoustics and even monitors in the seat backs for the translations. But as much as the Lyric has become redundant, I will miss the more intimate feeling of a small family, sometimes a crazy, bickering one, producing art for the community to enjoy. In gaining a big, modern, state-of-the-art theatre, we lose a bit of a connection.

Me? I lose a job and the intangible benefits that went with it. Think they will present me with a gold watch?