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.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
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.
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.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
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.
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.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
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?
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?
Sunday, April 10, 2011
St Louis Symphony Mahler 2
It seems I am falling into a pattern. Every year or so I gas up the old Buick and head east on I70 to the other side of the state to my old haunt St Louis, MO to partake of a special concert by the usually excellent St Louis Symphony. A couple seasons ago it was a wonderful Britten War Requiem with Music Director David Robertson and my favorite Diva (and Facebook friend) Christine Brewer. Next was an increasingly rare appearance by the great Maestro Stanislaw Skrowaczweski and his specialty the Bruckner 8th. So, in keeping with tradition, I headed to St Louis for a special concert of Mahler's grand Symphony # 2 with the St Louis SO, Christine Brewer, soprano, Kelley O'Connor, Mezzo and the St Louis Symphony Chorus all under the direction of Music Director David Robertson. Samuel Barber's "Prayers of Kierkegaard" opened the show.
Barber's "Prayers of Kierkegaard" for Chorus, Soprano and Orchestra (based on the writings of Soren Kierkegaard) received a grand and emotional performance. The opening prayer, beautifully pure and sung with perfectly Gregorian piety by the men of the chorus, was followed by the reverent and passionate "Lord Jesus Christ who suffered all life long featuring Brewer's commanding but clear and sincere soprano voice. The final two prayers increased in drama and thickened in choral and fanfare laced orchestral texture concluding with the final prayer, a richly thick chorale "Father in Heaven, hold not our sins up against us".
But the evening was really all about the Mahler and overall it was a satisfying and frequently eloquent performance. Frankly the two vocal movements came off best of all, aided by the masterful soloists and the magnificent chorus. Robertson and the orchestra certainly did no harm to Mahler and his incredible score; in fact the performance was full of finely tuned details, moderate and appropriate tempi and fine orchestral work. But to my ears, the first two movements lacked the passion, swagger and flow that would have made this a perfect live Mahler 2.
Take the fabulous second movement "Andante Moderato" for example; finely played, lush strings, a perfectly delicate performance of the pizzicato string/flute/piccolo episode, fine pace... but no flow. The best performances will have the landler rhythm almost like that of boats rowing, a strong accent and push, a glide and then another accent as the oars hit the water for the next stroke. Robertson was just too foursquare. The damn street noise of sirens careening down Grand Ave didn't help, but what can one do?
The first movement began with a thrilling flourish; the basses digging into the opening motives with vigor and a tinge of foreboding. As the movement progressed, one sensed one was listening to a fine performance, but with the same bit of slackness as I described for the Andante. Again, far far far from a poor performance, maybe I just have Bernstein's white hot performances burned into my Mahler senses.
The incredible scherzo, "In ruhig fließender Bewegung" (with quiet, flowing movement) is one of my favorite Mahler movements. Robertson and the orchestra began to stir in this movement, with more elasticity and drama and a better sense of Mahler's flowing, folk derived rhythms. Sadly, the movement was marred by a too harsh and sharp rute that sounded more like solid sticks than the brush-like reeds which contribute more of a texture than a sound.
Kelley O'Connor's "Urlicht" was beyond description, and almost seemed to bring the work to life. I have never, ever been so moved by the opening "O Röschen rot" that just seemed to ignite out of the dark rudeness of the Scherzo. O'Connor's mezzo was dark, but clear; I hope she records the part with a major orchestra someday. A purely magic movement. Ok, I thought about not mentioning the off-the-mark brass in the chorale just after O Röschen rot, but jarring it was and blemished this otherwise incredible movement.
Yet as if inspired by this delicate moment, the orchestra came to life in a thrilling, powerful and dynamic finale. The augmented brass never was harsh or overwhelming, the percussion perfectly integrated into the texture and the woodwinds and strings always bright and precise.
The chorus' hushed entrance "Aufersteh'n, ja aufersteh'n" was just heavenly. This well trained and professional group could whisper and yet a moment later bring the old beams of Powell Hall down around us. Brewer (her soprano slowly rising from the hushed chorus was mesmerizing) and O'Connor soared majestically above it all as required, just as comfortable being part of the vocal texture as they were as soloists. Blemishing this otherwise fine movement were the offstage brass which were off tempo and off tune, not well coordinated at all.
The concert was done in memory of longtime chorus member and chorus manager Richard Ashburner, who died all too suddenly and young this past March. There was hardly a dry eye in the chorus or among the soloists and several in the audience as well during the long and well deserved applause.
I know I sound a bit picky, but as my friend and fellow concert goer Steven said, we have a right to be critcal, since as devoted fans of Mahler, we know the music probably as well as any chorus or orchestra member. It was a fine and sometimes glorious Mahler 2, worth the cross state trip for the fine choral and solo performances in the last two movements.
Barber's "Prayers of Kierkegaard" for Chorus, Soprano and Orchestra (based on the writings of Soren Kierkegaard) received a grand and emotional performance. The opening prayer, beautifully pure and sung with perfectly Gregorian piety by the men of the chorus, was followed by the reverent and passionate "Lord Jesus Christ who suffered all life long featuring Brewer's commanding but clear and sincere soprano voice. The final two prayers increased in drama and thickened in choral and fanfare laced orchestral texture concluding with the final prayer, a richly thick chorale "Father in Heaven, hold not our sins up against us".
But the evening was really all about the Mahler and overall it was a satisfying and frequently eloquent performance. Frankly the two vocal movements came off best of all, aided by the masterful soloists and the magnificent chorus. Robertson and the orchestra certainly did no harm to Mahler and his incredible score; in fact the performance was full of finely tuned details, moderate and appropriate tempi and fine orchestral work. But to my ears, the first two movements lacked the passion, swagger and flow that would have made this a perfect live Mahler 2.
Take the fabulous second movement "Andante Moderato" for example; finely played, lush strings, a perfectly delicate performance of the pizzicato string/flute/piccolo episode, fine pace... but no flow. The best performances will have the landler rhythm almost like that of boats rowing, a strong accent and push, a glide and then another accent as the oars hit the water for the next stroke. Robertson was just too foursquare. The damn street noise of sirens careening down Grand Ave didn't help, but what can one do?
The first movement began with a thrilling flourish; the basses digging into the opening motives with vigor and a tinge of foreboding. As the movement progressed, one sensed one was listening to a fine performance, but with the same bit of slackness as I described for the Andante. Again, far far far from a poor performance, maybe I just have Bernstein's white hot performances burned into my Mahler senses.
The incredible scherzo, "In ruhig fließender Bewegung" (with quiet, flowing movement) is one of my favorite Mahler movements. Robertson and the orchestra began to stir in this movement, with more elasticity and drama and a better sense of Mahler's flowing, folk derived rhythms. Sadly, the movement was marred by a too harsh and sharp rute that sounded more like solid sticks than the brush-like reeds which contribute more of a texture than a sound.
Kelley O'Connor's "Urlicht" was beyond description, and almost seemed to bring the work to life. I have never, ever been so moved by the opening "O Röschen rot" that just seemed to ignite out of the dark rudeness of the Scherzo. O'Connor's mezzo was dark, but clear; I hope she records the part with a major orchestra someday. A purely magic movement. Ok, I thought about not mentioning the off-the-mark brass in the chorale just after O Röschen rot, but jarring it was and blemished this otherwise incredible movement.
Yet as if inspired by this delicate moment, the orchestra came to life in a thrilling, powerful and dynamic finale. The augmented brass never was harsh or overwhelming, the percussion perfectly integrated into the texture and the woodwinds and strings always bright and precise.
The chorus' hushed entrance "Aufersteh'n, ja aufersteh'n" was just heavenly. This well trained and professional group could whisper and yet a moment later bring the old beams of Powell Hall down around us. Brewer (her soprano slowly rising from the hushed chorus was mesmerizing) and O'Connor soared majestically above it all as required, just as comfortable being part of the vocal texture as they were as soloists. Blemishing this otherwise fine movement were the offstage brass which were off tempo and off tune, not well coordinated at all.
The concert was done in memory of longtime chorus member and chorus manager Richard Ashburner, who died all too suddenly and young this past March. There was hardly a dry eye in the chorus or among the soloists and several in the audience as well during the long and well deserved applause.
I know I sound a bit picky, but as my friend and fellow concert goer Steven said, we have a right to be critcal, since as devoted fans of Mahler, we know the music probably as well as any chorus or orchestra member. It was a fine and sometimes glorious Mahler 2, worth the cross state trip for the fine choral and solo performances in the last two movements.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Kansas City Symphony: Elgar and Ravel
Larry Rachleff, Music Director of the Rhode Island Philharmonic and Director of Orchestras at Rice University in Houston, made one of his regular appearances with the Kansas City Symphony this past weekend. Rachleff, quite in demand as a guest conductor and teacher, always brings a fresh and interesting program and a certain sense of energy. This concert consisted of 4 fairly standard and familiar works, the Overture to Benvenuto Cellini by Berlioz, the colorful Piano Concerto in G by Ravel, Barber's Adagio for Strings and concluding with the popular "Enigma" Variations by Elgar. Argentinian Ingrid Fliter was the soloist in the Ravel.
Berlioz's Massive opera about the free spirited Italian sculptor is rarely performed or recorded, but the overture remains one of his more popular pieces. Unfortunately, this performance seemed a bit flat and lacking drama despite some fine ensemble playing and well paced tempo. The grand coda, Popes and pomp and all, seemed forced rather than grandly conclusive.
All came together much better in the sometimes delicate, often jazzy and frequently lushly beautiful Ravel. Fliter, a pianist not familiar to me, easily handled the extremes of the score; sweetly lyrical, technically brilliant and jazzy when called upon. The delicate, flowing central Adagio was most effective. Fliter's refined technique and Rachleff's nuanced accompaniment allowed us to hear each note of the many long lines and florid runs, revealing that Ravel would often place a few staccato notes in between long legato phases, something not always noted in less graceful performances. A disappointment was the grand bluesy outburst in the first movement that just wasn't perfectly cataclysmic and laced with flutter tonguing brass as in the best performances of this work. Special note to the fine clarinets and trombones who often had some of the more jazzy elements and to Kenneth Lawrence for his achingly beautiful English horn solo in the adagio.
The second half opened with the strings in the well known Barber Adagio for Strings arranged from his String Quartet op 11. If any work from a US composer has become a cultural icon, this one is it. Premiered by Toscanini, championed by Stokowski. praised by Sibelius and soon to become the music that told a nation that Roosevelt had died, the Barber Adagio is certainly an institution. Rachleff and the KC Strings gave a fine and heartfelt performance of this emotional piece, marred only by some questionable intonation in the high tessatura of the climax.
Rachleff apparently loves the popular Elgar Variations as he mentioned in his short talk and by noting that it is one of the most frequently performed pieces in the classical repertoire. Rachleff guided the orchestra through the characteristic variations portraying the pugnacious Dan the Bulldog, the stuttering Dorabella, the moody R.P.A. and the loyal and noble "Nimrod". Easily the best performance of the night, the orchestra seemed to relish Elgar's enigmatic work and, along with the committed direction of Rachleff, provided a more than satisfying conclusion to the evening.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Kansas City Symphony: Latin American Extravaganza??
Billed by the marketing department as a "Latin American Extravaganza", the weekend's Kansas City Symphony concerts were really more "la música sobre de América Latina" than "la música Latino Américana". Yes, there were some wild dances and throbbing drums, but the selections were far from a rum laced fiesta and with A veddy British Vaughan Williams piece in the middle to boot.
Music Director Michael Stern was on the podium leading the orchestra in "Sidereus" a new orchestral work by Osvaldo Golijov, the Viola Concerto by Krzysztof Penderecki (pat me on the back, I actually spelled his name correctly without looking it up), the "The Wasps, Aristophanic Suite" by Ralph Vaughan Williams and 4 Dances from Estancia by Alberto Ginastera. Roberto Diaz was the soloist in the Penderecki.
Argentinian Osvaldo Golijov burst on the music scene a few years ago with his world music influenced and visceral compositions "La Pasión Según San Marco" (The Passion according to St Mark") and the opera "Ainadamar" about the life and death of poet Federico Garcia Lorca. Although I initially was taken with the power and rhythm of "La Pasión", deeply inspired by Latin American singing and worship, its overall sameness, relentless percussion orchestra and wailing vocals wore thin over time. "Ainadamar" simply failed to make a strong impression as well.
Sidereus is the first strictly orchestral work of Golijov's that I have heard. The work was commissioned by 35 orchestras in the US as a tribute to the career of renowned orchestra manager Henry Fogel and premiered in Memphis in 2010. The title is drawn from Galileo's book "Sidereus Nuncius" (Starry Messenger)written by the astronomer after first observing the moon through his telescope and discovering the moons of Jupiter.
The 10 minute work is scored for a very conventional orchestra with only tympani for percussion. A rising motive usually in horns and brass, described in the notes as being "inspired by the moon over Patagonia" is paired with arpeggio phrases from winds and strings. Frankly the work is pleasant, certainly well crafted and reminiscent of movie music in many respects, and more than a bit disappointing in its lack of vision and architecture, despite the fine performance by the symphony.
The haunting, almost funereal Viola Concerto by Polish composer Krzysztof Penderecki from 1983 would seem to have little, if any, connection to Latin America. But lo it does as it is the result of a commission from Venezuela for the 200th anniversary of the birth of liberator Simon Bolivar. The 20 minute concerto in one movement is typical of Penderecki's move towards a more tonal post-Romantic style. Although craggy at times, the work is primarily elegiac and dark in tone, serving the viola's tenor tone quite well. A dark and powerful opening soliloquy leads to the body of the work which juxtaposes a series of contrasting tempi episodes and virtuoso cadenzas for the viola. The coda is an almost nostalgic recap of the opening soliloquy. Diaz was in full command of his rich instrument (a monumental 1595 Amati Viola once owned by William Primrose) and communicated the deep pathos and committed passion of a liberator which lie beneath the surface of this moving work. Stern and the orchestra maneuvered through the often thick texture with commanding ease, never diminishing the soloist.
If Diaz played the violin he would be an internationally celebrated name. His contributions to music as the former principal viola in Phildelphia and Washington DC, member of the Minnesota and Boston SO and the current President and CEO of the Curtis Institute of Music, should earn him the acclaim this incredible artist deserves.
The Vaughan Williams "Wasps" suite is a sizable piece based on incidental music he wrotein 1909 for Aristophanes' play "The Wasps". About the only thing "Aristophanic" about the piece is the buzzing motif from the overture and the clever March of the Utensils, part of the absurd trial of the dog in the play. The music is always fun, if not really top drawer Vaughan Williams. The fine winds of the symphony were on display in this brisk and lively performance. Rumor has it that the symphony is going to record this music for an upcoming release on Reference Recordings, echoing the success of the recent Britten recording that won a Grammy Award.
Alberto Ginastera's suite from the ballet "Estancia", an early work from this most fascinating composer, concluded this concert. Ginastera's 1943 work was based on scenes from life on an Argentine ranch (an "estancia") and was the most overtly "Latin" music of the evening. Especially memorable was the atmospheric and tender "Wheat Dance" featuring sweetly glowing and tender solos from the flute, harp and woodwinds. The concluding "Final Dance: Malambo" was a fiesta of drums, braying horns and repetitive foot stomping rhythm. A most fitting conclusion to a satisfying concert, but hardly a "Latin American Extravaganza".
Music Director Michael Stern was on the podium leading the orchestra in "Sidereus" a new orchestral work by Osvaldo Golijov, the Viola Concerto by Krzysztof Penderecki (pat me on the back, I actually spelled his name correctly without looking it up), the "The Wasps, Aristophanic Suite" by Ralph Vaughan Williams and 4 Dances from Estancia by Alberto Ginastera. Roberto Diaz was the soloist in the Penderecki.
Argentinian Osvaldo Golijov burst on the music scene a few years ago with his world music influenced and visceral compositions "La Pasión Según San Marco" (The Passion according to St Mark") and the opera "Ainadamar" about the life and death of poet Federico Garcia Lorca. Although I initially was taken with the power and rhythm of "La Pasión", deeply inspired by Latin American singing and worship, its overall sameness, relentless percussion orchestra and wailing vocals wore thin over time. "Ainadamar" simply failed to make a strong impression as well.
Sidereus is the first strictly orchestral work of Golijov's that I have heard. The work was commissioned by 35 orchestras in the US as a tribute to the career of renowned orchestra manager Henry Fogel and premiered in Memphis in 2010. The title is drawn from Galileo's book "Sidereus Nuncius" (Starry Messenger)written by the astronomer after first observing the moon through his telescope and discovering the moons of Jupiter.
The 10 minute work is scored for a very conventional orchestra with only tympani for percussion. A rising motive usually in horns and brass, described in the notes as being "inspired by the moon over Patagonia" is paired with arpeggio phrases from winds and strings. Frankly the work is pleasant, certainly well crafted and reminiscent of movie music in many respects, and more than a bit disappointing in its lack of vision and architecture, despite the fine performance by the symphony.
The haunting, almost funereal Viola Concerto by Polish composer Krzysztof Penderecki from 1983 would seem to have little, if any, connection to Latin America. But lo it does as it is the result of a commission from Venezuela for the 200th anniversary of the birth of liberator Simon Bolivar. The 20 minute concerto in one movement is typical of Penderecki's move towards a more tonal post-Romantic style. Although craggy at times, the work is primarily elegiac and dark in tone, serving the viola's tenor tone quite well. A dark and powerful opening soliloquy leads to the body of the work which juxtaposes a series of contrasting tempi episodes and virtuoso cadenzas for the viola. The coda is an almost nostalgic recap of the opening soliloquy. Diaz was in full command of his rich instrument (a monumental 1595 Amati Viola once owned by William Primrose) and communicated the deep pathos and committed passion of a liberator which lie beneath the surface of this moving work. Stern and the orchestra maneuvered through the often thick texture with commanding ease, never diminishing the soloist.
If Diaz played the violin he would be an internationally celebrated name. His contributions to music as the former principal viola in Phildelphia and Washington DC, member of the Minnesota and Boston SO and the current President and CEO of the Curtis Institute of Music, should earn him the acclaim this incredible artist deserves.
The Vaughan Williams "Wasps" suite is a sizable piece based on incidental music he wrotein 1909 for Aristophanes' play "The Wasps". About the only thing "Aristophanic" about the piece is the buzzing motif from the overture and the clever March of the Utensils, part of the absurd trial of the dog in the play. The music is always fun, if not really top drawer Vaughan Williams. The fine winds of the symphony were on display in this brisk and lively performance. Rumor has it that the symphony is going to record this music for an upcoming release on Reference Recordings, echoing the success of the recent Britten recording that won a Grammy Award.
Alberto Ginastera's suite from the ballet "Estancia", an early work from this most fascinating composer, concluded this concert. Ginastera's 1943 work was based on scenes from life on an Argentine ranch (an "estancia") and was the most overtly "Latin" music of the evening. Especially memorable was the atmospheric and tender "Wheat Dance" featuring sweetly glowing and tender solos from the flute, harp and woodwinds. The concluding "Final Dance: Malambo" was a fiesta of drums, braying horns and repetitive foot stomping rhythm. A most fitting conclusion to a satisfying concert, but hardly a "Latin American Extravaganza".
Tuesday, March 08, 2011
Friday, March 04, 2011
2011 Kansas City Auto Show
2011 Greater Kansas City Auto Show. Click on the pics for full size.
We went early PM so the crowds were thin:
More practical (and about $100,000 cheaper) Italian style, the 2011 Fiat 500 to be sold by Chrysler this summer. Can this little machine resurrect a name that means "trash" to many? Looks fun and well put together, a smaller Mini and cheaper too. But so many love Scion; I find them kind of throwaway cars myself. I'd buy one of these.
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| From Drop Box |
Greg was checking out the latest in pickup trucks. He remembers farm trucks when the front bumpers were optional. I didn't capture his expression from the sticker shock.
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| From Drop Box |
2011 Lincoln MKS. I hate the grille, I would replace it with one from an 80's Lincoln. Back then their classic style grille exuded timelessness and elegance. This damn thing snarls.
When Lincolns were boats: 1948 Continental
My God! King Ranch Power Stroke Turbo Diesel. Too macho for me.
Remember when Hyundai cars were cheap econoboxes? 2011 Equus, $60K Plus.
The New MB Gullwing SLS AMG $224K
I think the original looks best. MB 300SL Gullwing from 1955. Worth more than the new one.
I let them display my new Jaguar XJ.
I had to ask.. does one need to insert a coin in the slot and then push the button to get the car to start? 2011 Mini Cooper.
The Pinninfarina name still evokes magic images of sleek, Italian style. Maserati GranTurismo.
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| From Drop Box |
On the Chrysler side, consensus seems to be that the new Chrysler 200 is nice but dull. The front of the Dodge Charger is far from that. Car has tremendous presence.
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| From Drop Box |
Used to be if you wanted a Cadillac Station Wagon you had to own a funeral home or have one built for you. The New CTS Sport Wagon is classy and full of gadgets. You press a button on the door and it pops open....slick. Not a fin or the name DeVille in sight either.
Dunbar's young cousin, 2011 Buick Regal. I'd buy one. The new smaller Verano is nice too. Great recreation of the iconic 1950's tooth grille.
New electric Chevrolet Volt. The demonstrator fellow had driven one and said he loved it. Quiet, powerful and practical. Still hard to get, expensive and the Republicans hate it so the future is questionable in dumb ass America.
The only thing wrong with a Kia Forte Koup is the silly name. A slick, well equipped little 2 dr for less than $23 K with all options.
We were about done and turning around to head out for a Mexican dinner for Greg's b-day. We passed the Subaru display and not a lesbian in sight.... sorry.. couldn't resist.
Wednesday, March 02, 2011
It’s Time to Play ‘Sheen, Beck, or Qaddafi?’
It’s Time to Play ‘Sheen, Beck, or Qaddafi?’
This is harder than you think. In my opinion, Qaddafi (one of the myriad of spellings of his name) comes out better than expected and Sheen is just plain fucking nuts.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Royal Invitation
Look what HM got in the mail today. She is not sure if she is going, as she can't stand Camilla, would not be able to see anything and the date conflicts with her own 12th birthday celebrations. She is a good friend of the Bride, so she may end up in London for the weekend.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Shuttered but Not Forgotten
Rumored in the press for a while but buried among stories of aliens and socialists, was the news that the book seller Borders Books and Music was in trouble. Storm tossed by the economic downturn and the public's turn to online resources for books and music, the iconic stores were suffering huge losses. When they declared Chapter 11 Bankruptcy yesterday, it was inevitable that store closings were part of the plan. A list was published and I checked out the soon to be shuttered locations and found a few old favorites among the victims.
I admit, I do not shop much at real live book stores anymore, mostly because I am not that big of a book reader and because their classical music selections became a shell of what they used to carry. The last book I bought from Borders was also so dammed expensive, made all the worse by realizing that if I was a bit patient I could have saved over $10 to have it shipped to me from an online seller.
But about 10 years ago I (and it seemed many others as well) frequented the stores and kept them in good stead. When I lived in Jefferson City, a visit to the Borders in KC or St Louis was a breath of civilization, I could get things I never saw in Jefferson City's Wal-Mart dominated retail world. On business trips, they were a place I could go to be around people and not stuck in a drab, same old hotel room.
One of the stores slated to close is the one in Deerfield, IL at 49 S. Waukegan Rd. Located at a busy intersection in north suburban Chicago, this was one of my refuges. As I motored back to the drab little room I rented from a friend in Waukegan while living a short time in the area, I passed this store and usually took a few minutes to stop. I had little else to do. I would get a cup of coffee, wander around, get a magazine or a CD and just relax in the middle of my stressful commute. But time must have chipped away at the customer base and it is among the unlucky. I doubt even I could have kept it going.
Another old haunt is the one in east Wichita at 1715 Rock Rd. I frequented Wichita during my Beverly days even if my business took me elsewhere in south central Kansas. Wichita was a breath of urban air in among the small towns and wheat fields. Just down the street from this Borders was a fine Asian restaurant with some good Chinese and sushi to boot. After pigging out, I (and sometimes others traveling with me) would retire to the store for coffee, browsing and usually a purchase or two. If I were still frequenting Wichita (have not been there in years) like I used to, I would certainly miss this location and would be annoyed to have to go all the way out west of town for the remaining store. I guess that is where the business is now.
Sadly, the closest one to me will be the only one in the area to close. Located up north of the river at 8628 Boardwalk in among a big box, strip mall development, I sometimes popped in when suburban shopping at the near by Target, Kohls or the dreaded Wal-Mart was planned.
Barnes and Noble, Borders competitor (and like Walgreens and CVS, seem to locate opposite each other) seems to be weathering the storm a bit better. There is a B & N close to me, but I always preferred the more casual and friendlier Borders. They had better CD selection too. I really do not get to that store much either, and I can walk there on a good day.
Sadly I fear it may be inevitable that all Borders will eventually close. Bankruptcies like these seldom work out. As I mentioned, I am part of the problem, but when the stores fail to stock what I want (I know my book and CD tastes are not actually in the mainstream) I have to take my dollars elsewhere.
Thanks Borders locations mentioned above, you were a fine and well remembered part of my life. I wish it would have ended differently.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Out and About
I usually devote a whole entry to the American Heartland Theatre productions I see, but frankly I have been busy and thus have had insufficient time to sit down and review. A chance to see the Kansas City Chamber Orchestra followed this past Monday. So, with a few minutes of down time before the demands begin, I submit my combined review of these two shows.
American Heartland Theatre's "Maybe Baby it's You" succeeded due to two fine actors and some subtle and sometimes not so subtly witty dialog. This is a light hearted work, as usual no real plot except the exploration of male/female relationships from dating through an elderly divorced couple realizing there is still some affection there. Of course, anything with the amazing Jesslyn Kincaid is worth the effort to see. As usual she was in fine form as the woman (the characters have no names), especially her brilliant channeling of Medea, the blind date of an unfortunate fellow. Newcomer Chase Ashurst made a splash in his AHT debut as the man with his physical comedy and fluid changes of character. As usual, not an earth shattering, life changing, disturbing or controversial evening of theatre, just a fine time with some fine actors giving us a break from all the above. "Maybe Baby It's You" runs through this weekend.
The Kansas City Chamber Orchestra is celebrating its 25 season next year, bringing chamber music to more intimate settings around town. This concert, at the grand Old Mission United Methodist Church in Mission, KS, was a new and quite satisfying venue for me. The previous KCCS performances I heard were in the horrible space that is Visitation Catholic Church, ugly, too open and "live" a space for concerts in my opinion. At Old Mission, the small strings only ensemble sounded warmer and larger, with better balance between the basses and the rest of the orchestra. This was a more varied and more "romantic" program than past encounters which leaned mostly on the baroque repertoire.
A finely done Finzi "Eclogue"(we do need to hear more of the wonderful and intimate music of Finzi) with KCCS Conductor and founder Bruce Sorrell on the piano, a lively early Divertimento (K138) from Mozart and a couple of chestnuts the "An Irish Melody: Londonderry Air)" by Frank Bridge (a kind of diffuse arrangement that did not come off well, the evening's only disappointment) and the Nocturne movement arranged for strings from Borodin's 2nd String quartet (known to Broadway musical fans as "This is my Beloved" from "Kismet") comprised the first half. The second half was comprised of Dvorak's wonderful Serenade for Strings in E op.22. Normally heard in a bit larger ensemble, the spacious and warm sound of the church worked well, making the small ensemble seem larger. The candlelit sanctuary of the church contributed to a fine evening of romantic chamber music, fitting for Valentine's day.
Sunday, February 06, 2011
KC Symphony: Khachaturian, Mozart and Smetana
"Some 'classical warhorse' pieces are popular", explained my classical music mentor Herb, "simply because they are damn fine pieces of music." I put Smetana's wonderful tone poem "The Moldau" or more properly known in Czech as "Vltava" in this august category. What is not to love about this perfect 10 minute travelogue? Visually descriptive without being boringly obvious, colorful, brimming with memorable melody (indeed the opening main theme was played on the tour bus when our group arrived in Prague in the 90's) and perfectly proportioned.
Unfortunately, being a warhorse often means some pretty rough and ready performances, such as the Moscow State Symphony concert I heard a few years ago, where the Vltava swept all the castles, nymphs and peasants along in a torrent. Music Director Michael Stern and the Kansas City Symphony kept the Vltava in her banks while still evoking the majesty of the river and the life along its shores. Under Stern's direction, the farmers danced spritely, the mermaids cavorted sensuously in the mists and the great Vyšehrad Castle loomed commandingly over the city. A most fine and enjoyable performance of this fabulous chestnut.
While "Vltava" boldly closed the concert, the opening work, Messiaen's 1991 "Un Sourire: Homage to Mozart", began the program in a more delicate and subtle mode. Written in 1991 for the 200th anniversary of Mozart's death, "Un Sourire" has all the static mystery and antique modal harmony that characterizes much of Messiaen's oeuvre. The short work physically resembled Mozart not in the least, but impressionistically captured Mozart's brilliance, elegant simplicity and transcendent beauty. A highlight was the orchestra's fine mallet percussion which provided drier, rhythmic contrast to the more slow moving winds and strings in this episodic work.
If someone did not "get" the Messiaen piece, it should have been made quite clear from the following performance of Mozart's Symphony # 38 "Prague". For his loyal and appreciative fans in the Bohemian capital, Mozart wrote one of his more sublime and festive symphonies. Stern and the orchestra captured this elegance for the most part with a well paced, incisive performance. Only some string intonation gaffs and a somewhat lax opening slow introduction to the first movement marred this masterpiece of contrapuntal writing; Stern brought out each of the melodies that flowed from Mozart's pen like the mighty Vltava.
The long central slow movement (this is a 3 movement symphony, somewhat rare in late Mozart) was full of charm and elegance under Stern's direction, the strings much better in tune with delicate winds in attendance. The short finale brought the homage to Prague to a spirited but somewhat abrupt end.
Khachaturian's bravura Violin Concerto of 1941 certainly pleased Papa Stalin (he gave it a coveted Stalin Prize soon after) with its bombardment of folk like melodies, swirling dances and fireworks. It takes a steady hand and firm control from both soloist and conductor to keep the thing from spiraling into banality. Latvian violinist Baiba Skride and Stern did quite well in that regard, taking the work and its technical demands seriously. That certainly did not diminish the fun as Skride was always in perfect tone, taking each daunting passage in stride while keeping focus on the work's forward movement. Skride and Stern milked the lovely and long central Andante for all its melodic potential and brought it all together in a fiery finale that brought the audience to its feet.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Kansas City Symphony: Rum and Vodka
Audience favorite Giancarlo Guerrero joined the Kansas City Symphony in one of his signature Latin themed programs this weekend. A roaming guest conductor when he first appeared here, Guerrero is now the highly successful Music Director of the Nashville Symphony. His programs are always exciting, colorful, well thought out and his energy infectious; this one combining Spanish favored works by Giménez, Sierra and Ravel with the Shostakovich Cello Concerto # 2.
Jerónimo Giménez, a name hitherto unfamiliar to me, will be familiar to devotees of Spanish Zarzuela. Giménez (1854-1923) was a prolific composer, churning out several Zarauela a year. The Interlude from "La Boda de Luis Alanzo"(the marriage of Luis Alanzo) is a brief 6 minute romp full of rhythm, fanfare, folk melodies and hijinks.
I was first introduced to the music of Roberto Sierra through a recording of his 3 previous Sinfonias on Albany records. Although the performances seemed fine, I came away somewhat unimpressed and found the music mostly unmemorable. I was most favorable towards the Sinfonia # 1 from 2004, a more substantial and dramatic work than the other two; number 3 (subtitled "La Salsa") reminding me too much of "El Salon Mexico" or Gershwin's "Cuban Overture". The latest, Sinfonia # 4 (premiered by Guerrero and his Nashville Symphony in 2009), is certainly festooned, chock-full and even loaded with Latin percussion and color, but is a very tense, dramatic and intricately designed work.
In 4 shortish movements totaling 25 some minutes, Sierra uses the Latin elements, pulsing percussion, talking bongos, shimmering mallets, to advance his dramatic argument. Quite effective was languid 3rd movement, "Tiempo de Bolero", evoking the slow, sultry dance form in a complex, contrapuntal style, keeping the dramatic tension of the work flowing. The brilliant "Muy Rapido" finale, was colorful and reminiscent of the first movement bringing the Sinfonia to a satisfying and powerful conclusion.
In among all the Spanish and Latin American flavored works comes the Shostakovich Cello Concerto #2 with Alisa Weilerstein the soloist. Reservations about this being a most odd, about-face selection disappeared when you realized the spareness and coolness of this most austere work was like a stiff, icy shot of Stoli in between rounds of sweet Cuba libres or complex Piña Coladas. The work carried on the power and drama of the Sinfonia # 4 in a subtle, raw manner; a most welcome contrast to the other works that wore their emotion on their sleeves. Guerrero led a well paced and generally finely balanced performance of this strange work. The orchestra is more frequently used as a chamber ensemble than as a large force with prominence to the extensive percussion, which in this performance had a tendency to be too commanding at times, but handled the death rattle ending with dry finesse.
Weilerstein captured the often wide ranging expressions of the demanding cello solo; brittle and acerbic when called up yet dramatic and warm when the lyrical side of work broke through the gloom. Other performances I have heard have done a better job of integrating these bi polar extremes of mood, but this performance held together quite nicely and was the perfect foil to the more gregarious works on the program.
Serving as the bottom slice of bread this Latin-Russian sandwich was Ravel's homage to Spain, the impressionistic Rhapsodie Espagnole. Appropriately dreamy and veiled in the opening "Prelude de la Nuit" and following "Malagueña" and "Habanera" dances, the Rapsodie ended in a vibrant, colorful "Feria", closing the concert much in the way it began.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Kansas City Symphony: Martinu, Grosse Fuge and Andre Watts
A performance of one of Martinu's 6 symphonies is always a welcome occasion. For me they are among the greatest 20th century examples of their form, along with the cycles of Sibelius and Shostakovich, and much more satisfying than the symphonies of Nielsen or Prokofiev. When the performance was as fine as last night's Kansas City Symphony performance, it is an even more delectable treat. Michael Stern, Music Director was on the podium in a program featuring the Martinu Symphony # 4, Beethoven's most fascinating and bizarre work, the Grosse Fuge, Op133 in a string orchestra arrangement by Felix Weingartner and the Rachmaninoff Piano Concerto # 2 with piano legend Andre Watts as solo.
Two things that will kill a performance of a Martinu Symphony, an inattention to detail and slack rhythm, were not present at all in this fine performance. Stern milked the cinematic elements of the piece, let all the color and brilliant orchestration shine through and kept up a brisk but tenable pace. I heard more than one patron state that they absolutely enjoyed the work and had never heard a piece by Martinu before. Mission accomplished, Maestro.
The Beethoven Grosse Fuge is an acquired taste like scotch or pickled herring with sour cream. Since those delicacies are some of my favorites, it would then lead one to the conclusion that I enjoy the Grosse Fuge as well. The piece works best in its original string quartet version but the Weingartner arrangement for strings with basses doubling the cello is heard occasionally in concert. An overall well done performance, but the even more introspective central section of this sprawling, insanely incredible work lacked the necessary focus to negotiate the many changes of tempo, mood and thematic entrances. The Kansas City Symphony strings were at their best in the wild and wooly dramatic sections of this most grand and untamed fugue. As Stravinsky stated: [The Grosse Fuge] "is an absolutely contemporary piece of music that will be contemporary forever."
While I was most thrilled with a chance for some live Martinu and the Grosse Fuge, I am sure most of the packed house was waiting for the Rachmaninoff and Andre Watts. Watts was a legend from his debut in the early 60's and championed by Leonard Bernstein, with whom Watts made many recordings. Most of these Columbia/CBS recordings have disappeared or have been abused, appearing in "100 Greatest Piano Hits" type of recordings, cheapening Watts' legacy. Now in his 60's, Watts is still a brilliant virtuoso and thus tossed off this demanding concerto like it was a piece of candy. Magisterial is the only way I could describe it. Stern and the orchestra provided stellar accompaniment and joined in the rapturous applause for this titan of the piano.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Winter Flower
To remind everyone that the world has not frozen over completely, here is a wintering hibiscus showing off in the Palace pool room.
Monday, January 10, 2011
It Snowed
It snowed, It snowed
It snowed last night
Everything is sparkling with diamond light
It snowed last night
Everything is sparkling with diamond light
("It Snowed" ~ Meaghan Smith)
Outside of my Ipod, where I have a copy of this ditty in a Christmas music collection, I will not hear those words today around here. What I will hear is:
"look at this shit"
"That's it, I am moving to Florida"
"Can you believe this?"
"I am so sick of weather"
Ad nauseum....
Yes, Virginia, I can believe it; Snow in this part of the world is a fact of life, been doing it for a loooooooooooooong time. And, friends, we can't do much about it quickly, but we are making great strides in getting rid of this "shit". Keep feeding global warming, using petrochemicals, burning off forests and this "shit" will either disappear or take over the world, which ever you prefer. You will soon be sick from no weather at all.
As for Florida, the few times I have been there you can keep the place. And with a newly elected crook for a Governor, rampant Teabaggers and a population of rich aging people, the toxic political climate is not a fair exchange for a few rays of mosquito infested sun.
You know what? Just chill (pun intended). Make a snow man, throw some snow, get out and shovel a bit and work off the belly fat, use the scarf Aunt Mabel knitted for you, relish the fact that the decay of this crazy city is covered for a few moments in glimmering crystal. Then take your time getting where you need to be, or stay home and read, build a fire, relax, hoist a glass to the men and women who make a living removing snow, pay a neighbor kid a few bucks to shovel the drive, the possibilities are endless.
Why are we this way? I chalk it up to the fact that we are all just old and living in a dying empire, bombarded by negativity and frustration. As for me, I have already relished the sight of the world around me covered in fresh snow, the cold, crisp air with the snowflakes dancing around me. HM has enjoyed a snoot full as she snorted around in the stuff, remembering all over again that she likes it. I felt 10 years old again until a neighbor came out and moaned and whined.
Enjoy the winter wonderland while it lasts; you'll all be growling about the heat in a few months.
Sunday, January 09, 2011
Kansas City Symphony: Dukas, Strauss and Prokofiev
It is likely that for some last night's Kansas City Symphony program was a bit of a revelation. Surely some in the audience had never heard Dukas' charming "Scherzo: L'apprenti sorcier" without a frenetic mouse and marching mops or realized that Richard Strauss' "Also sprach Zarathustra" was actually 30 minutes long, not just the opening minute or two fanfare. Music Director Michael Stern (who we hear will be with us for an additional 5 years) conducted with Van Cliburn Award winner Haochen Zhang soloist in the Prokofiev 3rd Piano Concerto.
Dukas' 1897 masterpiece is a textbook study in the art of the symphonic scherzo, vividly retelling the story of the sorcerer and his apprentice who over hears some of the wizard's spells and uses them himself with comic results. This was a spritely performance, light and fleet of winds and brass with well accented percussion. The all important bassoons were light and comical, as they should be. The subterranean contrabassoon rumbled the house to the delight of the audience. More than a Mickey Mouse piece, this is a superb (and all so enjoyable) composition given a fine performance.
Van Cliburn Competition winner Haochen Zhang is often mentioned in the same breath along with his fellow compatriots Lang Lang and Yuja Wang. His considerable talents were aptly showcased in Prokofiev's popular and bravura Piano Concerto # 3 from 1921. Zhang captured the steely brilliance of this showpiece without banging and minimal histrionics as you-know-who (mentioned above... rhymes with bang) would do. Every note was clear and ringing, and there were lot of them. Stern and the orchestra provided and equally impressive accompaniment, following the twists and turns of this complex score with care and precision without being mechanical. Zhang and Stern also took pains to milk the frequent lyrical passages to their fullest, providing some relief from the relentless torrent of sound. Zhang's Chopin encore demonstrated he could make the piano sweetly sing.
Strauss' "Zarathustra" received a fine performance marred by a somewhat rushed opening and an anemic (alas electric) organ that just didn't provide enough grandeur. The following "Von den Hinternweltern" section warmly glowed, the grand reappearance of the three note fanfare theme in "Der Genesende" shook the house with the pause (remember when this was the LP side break??) just the right length for dramatic effect and the guest Concertmistress (damn I did not write her name down) was wonderful in the waltz tinged "Tanzlied". The high winds were spot on in the delicate closing moments, but the horns bobbled some of the more climactic moments. Not a bad performance, just short of drama and of the needed power that a larger ensemble would bring.
Next week, a concert I have been looking forward to hearing: Martinu's wonderful 4th Symphony.
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