Reception

The Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra was gracious in holding a reception in the Overlook room for all of the bloggers associated with this PSO blogs on May 2, 2009 after the concert conducted by Manfred Honeck. It was great to finally meet all of the others and to have some interesting conversations about the PSO and classical music. I held out hope that Honeck himself might drop by, but it was not to be. However, after the event was over, as we were exiting Heinz Hall, I looked back and saw Jennifer Pizzuto introducing herself to Manfred Honeck who had just exited the hall himself. They were both smiling, but I wasn't quick enough with my camera to capture the moment.

I want to thank Nicole Phillip who hosted the event, Kevin DeLuca, our contact and coordinator for the blogs, as well as the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra. PSO bloggers and friends - Jennifer Pizzuto(1), Matt Campbell(2), David DeAngelo(3), Cynthia Closkey(4), Elizabeth Perry(5), Justin Kownacki(6), Doug Bauman(7) and Louis Luangkesorn(8)

Legend:

Honeck and Beethoven, perfect together

Diese Übersetzung ist für Manfred Honecks und andere Deutsch sprechende Freunde von der Pittsburgh-Symphonie:

Als nächstes: Honeck und Beethoven, eine passende Kombination. Ich habe zugeschaut, habe ich Meister Honecks dirigieren gesehen, und dann sah ich wirklich. Ich sah seine Bewegungen, seinen Stil, seine Interpretationen, seine pizazz, seine Mechanismen, sein Gemüt, und die Musik, die zu hören war, und es war schön.

Honeck hat einen besonderen Stil, aber es gibt viel mehr als das, eine Art Substanz, die in der Universalsprache klassischer Musik buchstabiert wird und mit abstraktem Temperament fließt, eingesponnen in spezifische Anweisungen für das Orchester und jeden einzelnen Musiker. Honeck bringt mir eine prächtige Wiedergabe von Beethoven Symphonie Nummer sieben, vielleicht mein Lieblingsstück, wenn man ein Lieblingsstück wählen kann. Diese Symphonie wird eröffnet mit einer langen Einführung zum ersten Satz, wie die ersten Schritte in eine schön bewaldete Landschaft, dann beginnt schließlich der ganze Satz.

Die Bewegungen Honecks werden im Dirigieren zusammen geführt/gefasst. Handbewegungen nach links und rechts, weiches Schwingen vor und zurück , das ansteigende Volumen anzeigend, dann für einen weicheren ruhigeren Teil, eine gerade aufrechte Haltung und einfache Bewegungen mit dem Stab. Der Dirigent hat eine Begabung für eine sanfte Sprache, und im Satz ist es fast das Gleiche-- ich meine, dass er sich nicht viel bewegt, seine Statur ist gerade und fein, und groß, und dann plötzlich, seine runden, sich wiederholenden Armbewegungen und das feine Auf und Ab seines Körper , die sich in fließenden und effektiven Ausdruck physischen Gefühls mit dem Orchester verbindet. Sie antworten. Der Klang ist perfekt, wie diese Symphonie von Beethoven, die perfekte Symphonie, das perfekte Orchester, und der beste Dirigent für das Spiel: eine große Kombination.

Der zweite Satz, einer der berührendsten Sätze, die ich kenne , beginnt fast geisterhaft. Er kommt diesmal mit erhabener Wirkung daher. Jetzt denke ich zurück an die Verbindung der Musikstücke des heutigen Abends, die Transfiguration. Diese Bewegung ist die Transfiguration von Beethoven, es gibt sonst nichts Vergleichbares. Es transzendiert meine Seele, geht tiefer und ruft mehr Gefühl als jede andere Musik hervor, die ich kenne. Das Tempo ist gut, aber ich merke, dass ich mehr will und doch ist es vorbei.

Jetzt der dritte Satz , was für eine Veränderung! Es ist alles wieder Teil desselben Themas, die Transfiguration: diesmal aus der tiefen Bewegung zum presto ,chango, und voila -- wechselt es die Gangart zu einem schnelleren Schritt , fast wie ein Rennen. Jetzt ist es Spaß mit einer Art verspielter melodischer Klänge, es lässt meine Füße mitfedern, und meine Beine sich bewegen, und ich sehe das gleiche beim Dirigenten: er springt und bewegt sich und bewegt wieder das Orchester zu dieser freudigen Musik.

Schließlich gehen wir vom schnellen zum schnellsten, letzten Satz. Es ist jetzt wirklich fast wie ein Rennen. Wenn ich sehe, wie Manfred Honeck diese Bewegung dirigiert, beginne ich wahrhaftig, die Verbindung zu Beethoven zu sehen. Und jetzt stelle mir ich vor, wie es sein muss, Beethoven selbst zu sehen. wie er diese Symphonie zum ersten Mal dirigiert. Und ich höre es ebenso.

Honeck wirkt fein, ernst , frei und dennoch effektiv beim Dirigieren. Nachdem die Musik beendet ist, gönnt er uns schließlich ein Lächeln , so breit und überfließend, dass es ansteckend wirkt, und diese Wirkung zusammen mit der schönen Musik vom Pittsburgh Sinfonieorchester beeinflusst das ganze Publikum. Schneller als ich es je zuvor gesehen habe, ist es auf den Füßen um ihm zu applaudieren. Und wir werden mit einer symphonischen Zugabe belohnt, er und der PSO geben uns eine Vorschau vom Konzert, das sie auf der Reise in einer Woche in China spielen werden. Wir hören den letzten Satz von Haydns Symphonie Nr. 88, und es war eine solche Freude!

(I started to translate this to German myself, but enlisted the aid of a friend from Germany. Danke!
http://www.flickr.com/photos/17878093@N05/
)

Honeck and Beethoven, Perfect Together

Penny Anderson Brill, Viola, and musician of the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra, introduced the concert on Saturday night at Heinz Hall. Her introduction was very much an appreciation, by the musicians, for the audience. The orchestra even gave the audience a round of applause. Her final tribute: "Thank you so much for all that you do for us and now I hope you enjoy the concert"

Manfred Honeck entered the stage, and after one bow, began conducting the composition: "Tod und Verklärung" by Richard Strauss. This was my first chance to hear this piece live. I remember being impressed by the low drums at the beginning. I began to think to myself, what does this music mean to me? I found the juxtaposition of the words in the title interesting: Death (first) then Transfiguration. Words and music have temporal meanings, and this time I thought perhaps that this music was supposed to represent death, as only a beginning, and the further meaning beyond, and a contemplation of what that concept might entail, without prior knowing. And transfiguration, coming after death, what could it be -- is it a higher place? Is it like Earth and Heaven, as opposed to Heaven and Earth -- does the order truly come in a sequential fashion, or is it a concept that transcends time, in a manner that we truly cannot easily perceive, yet. All these thoughts came to mind, and flowed through the music. This was truly a beautiful score, and one that I enjoyed; and even though this isn't the first time I've heard this music, it somehow seemed to be the first time for a true appreciation.

The piano concerto with soloist Yefim Bronfman, was the logical follow up to the previous piece, or at least that was my initial thought: that this was sort of like a transfiguration in and of itself. The drama in the introduction of the first movement was appealing. The bases and deeper harmony seemed to dominate, with the violins following suit. Then the piano joined it, and what followed was beautiful, in its entirety this Mozart Concerto Number 24 is one of my favorites.

To whoever I overheard exclaiming at intermission: 'I liked the piano concerto, but I didn't really like the first piece', I must urge you to give new music a chance. To sample new music over a period of years. I think this kind of music grows on you. If you give it a chance, someday you'll be coming to the concert for the prospect of finding new gems in the repertoire.

Next up: Honeck and Beethoven, a fitting combination. I watched, I saw Maestro Honeck conduct, then I truly saw. I saw his movements, his style, his interpretations, his pizazz, his mechanisms, his mind, and the music that was there, and it was beautiful.

Honeck has a particular style, but there is much more than that, it is a substance which spells in the universal language of classical music, and flourishes with abstract verve spun into specific directions for the orchestra and each and every musician. Honeck brings to me a splendid rendition of Beethoven's Symphony number seven, perhaps my favorite, if one can pick a favorite. This symphony opens with a long introduction to the first movement, like the first steps into a beautifully wooded landscape, then the full bodied movement eventually begins.

Honeck's motions sum up the conducting. Hand motions left and right, full sweeping motions back and forth representing increased volume, then for a softer quieter part, a straight upright posture and simple movements of the baton. The conductor has a knack for being soft spoken, and in movements, it's almost the same thing -- I seem to think he isn't moving all that much, his stature straight, and subtle, and tall, then suddenly, his round repeated motions of his arms and some subtle up and down of his body in a fluid and effective outpouring of physical emotion connect to the orchestra. They respond. The sound is perfect, like this symphony from Beethoven, the perfect symphony, the perfect orchestra, and the best conductor for the match: a great combination.

The second movement, one of the most touching movements I know, almost haunting, begins. It comes through this time with sublime effect. Now I think back to the connection of the music for this evening, the transfiguration. This movement is Beethoven's transfiguration, there is nothing else like it. It transcends my soul, goes deeper and evokes more emotion than any other music I know. The tempo is good, but I find myself wanting more, and it is over.

Now the third movement, what a change-up. It's all part of that theme again, the transfiguration: this time from the deeply moving to the presto, chango, and voila -- it's upbeat and moving along at a quicker pace, almost racing. Now its fun with sort of playful melodic sounds, it gets my feet tapping, and my legs moving, and I see the same with the conductor: he is hopping and moving and again animating the orchestra into this joyous music.

Finally we go from the quick to the fast, the final movement. It's really moving now, almost like a race. When I see Manfred Honeck conduct this movement, I truly begin to see a sort of link to Beethoven. And now I imagine what it must be like to see Beethoven, himself, conducting this symphony for the first time. And I hear it as well.

Honeck seems subtle, serious and deliberate, yet effective when conducting. After the music is done, he finally dons a smile so wide and brimming, it is  infectious, and this effect along with the beautiful music from the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra affects the entire audience as they simultaneously leap to their feet to applaud, faster than I've ever seen them go into a standing ovation before.  And we are rewarded with a symphonic encore, he and the PSO give us all a preview of the concert they will be playing on tour in a week in China. We get to hear the final movement of Haydn's Symphony No. 88, and a treat it was!

Rachmaninoff in story

A day like many other, and like no other day. Awake past dawn from a dream with a surprise, an old car parked in the garage of my old house in the woods. The day is alive with sunshine bright, warm and ready for bees. I watch CMU's sweepstake buggy races on the internet. The trees reach into my kitchen, and yank me outside, and the birds do say: why do you waste this day inside? You are right, I retort. So I spend the day with the birds singing surreal spring songs. I, in my way, plant flower and tomato seeds and ride bicycle high and low in the air with wind in my hair. To end a day like this is a thing to regret, but what better way than with symphonic music to hear, so I do it that way, my way.

The Pittsburgh Symphony appears, and I take my seat, turn off my cell phone, with ample cooperation, and made ready to enjoy the concert. Hushed silence, then the orchestra begins their warm up, the sound like no other, individuals all playing, nothing coordinated, yet it sounds so familiar, and sounds rather fine; how could that be, no composition, no rhyme, no reason, yet it sounds good to me.

Rachmaninoff, what more can I say? A concert filled with Rachmaninoff, the icing on top of the day. Goose bumps, appear on my neck, when the music commences, with Vocalise, music Conductor Slatkin dedicates this selection to the recently slain officers in Pittsburgh, and accordingly, he asked for a moment of silence after they play. This composition was perhaps unlike anything done before by Rachmaninoff. There was drama between sections of the symphony, and that accords places for sweet solos from the oboe, horn, cello and others. This time I hear no coughing in the audience, this time I heard pure music, I can hear each section, and drink in the music, with pure appreciation.

Rachmaninoff, Symphonic Dances: A simple story that I invent while listening to this music:


A bird soars back to her nest, beside the egg is a baby, hatched just the other day, she feeds him. He hops to the side of the nest, ready to fly -- no, my little one, not quite yet, you are not ready, if you try now you will get hurt, I must protect you until you are ready. He hops down and waits. The mother flies off in search of more food. The baby is belligerent and stubbornly tries to fly, and comes crashing down and is injured. First flight this time was to no avail, but the baby perseveres. He hops about and manages to find a high place to try again. He will try the flight of the gliding bird, bounding first then flapping, take to the air, spread his wings, then keep them still, try to glide, that is his goal. His plight is on display, sometimes falling down. His desire is represented by robust, loud, rhythmic, spirited passages, looming near a precipice, and about to dive forth, as if over a waterfall, and when this happens, it is only luck that brings him softly down in a soft, gently flowing, meandering stream and around a bend and into a bed, whence and as if that is where he had started, but not really. Adept at determination, he tries again. Flutter, perhaps his chance at flight is taking off a little, it could be done, it can be achieved, if only, but, plop, back down again.

Next movement brings a waltz, 3 um-pah sounds beneath his wings. Now we see a hawk in the guise of an altered horn, the odd sound that brings his menacing purpose home. The hawk, as is his nature, will eat a baby bird, but if he gets the chance, it will be to find a way to maximize his gain, he must have more than simply this one lone morsel. The baby continues on his quest to learn to fly, it's difficult from the ground, no perch to perch upon, so he continues to try from rocks and with hopping bounds. Low keys abound in the sound coming from the orchestra, this represents the overture of the hawk, he is now soaring above the baby bird. He talks to the baby. He convinces him that he is his mother. That he can be good for him, and the baby, filled with hope, instantly believes him. The hawk gives him food and teaches him a better way to fly. And he lures him to the hawks way of thinking, with nothing to interfere. But the baby has an innate nature, and that nature cannot be denied.

The baby bird escapes the clutches of the hawk. His scurry is frantic, his directions are wild and his wings fluctuate as he attempts a dive to avoid the chasing hawk. But his attempt is futile, the hawk recaptures the baby. But this time there is recapitulation, there are many other baby birds in the capture of the hawk. They all begin to sing, a song of different sounds, each their own, each an individual voice. These add up in syncopated sublime instantaneous coordination. But the wind is blowing. The wind dampens their song. Now a flock appears, a flock of adult song birds, who join the chorus. The sound is beginning to be loud and is culminating in a harmonic vibration all based on a single note, which happens to be the base frequency and harmonic resonant core vibration for the glass cages that hold the babies. It cracks. They are free, and the flock is too big, so the hawk flies away. Many individual voices, acting in unison with tempo and volume, was simply too much for him.

The Great C-Major

I've been waiting for many years to hear this Schubert symphony performed by the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra, and tonight I deliciously had my chance, especially the very end with that marvelous sawing of bows in such a deep and uniform aggregate, producing such rich an deep sound; four saws, followed by the horns in a higher key, then repeated again -- simply amazing!

Gianandrea Noseda was the perfect conductor, the centerpiece --

The hop in his step, and who didn't notice,
the animation, the concentration, the total dedication,
Noseda conducting the great Schubert symphony,
was the center of the show, poised at his station.

The animated conductor, the painter of melody,
the artisan, the craftsman, the illustrator of harmony,
with swagger and great vigor, dancing his rhythm,
dipping, as the lead, where the dance of the music,
is the heart of the show.

Majesty and romanticism, in a great C major,
the orchestra followed as if part of the wager,
right arm with baton, left circled around
as if to encompass, the players to surround.

The first movement would commence
fast tempo setting pace,
soft and subtle, then building a steady flow,
marching with rhythm, and off to the race.

Proceed to the oboe, a slow movement Andante
ever so slow, and yet somewhat jaunty.

Next Scherzo of three, is ever so free,
a joke on the inside, I happen to see.

Finale to hear, Allegro vivace, Allegro vivace,
so regular and nice they sure named it twice
Trombones with the horns, vivid and catchy
Deep sawing of bows, deep and concise.

Eleven years after Schuber's death this majestic C-Major symphony was first played, and legend has it that during the first movement, one musician mused: "I have not yet heard a tune." I've heard that there aren't many memorable 'tunes' in Beethoven's works either. But isn't a 'tune' nothing more than a melody? Yet I also read that there is indeed much melody present in this symphony by Schubert. And if melody is the tune, and there is indeed melody in this symphony, then why say there is no tune? Perhaps the complaint is the memorability of the tune. Is it memorable, repeated, rephrased, perhaps overly so? Perhaps the whole of Schubert's harmony and melody combined, in an amalgamation of building dramatic parcels of phrases, in a very rhythmic and marching style, repeated in various different ways and forms, with creative development, all lend my ears and mind to perceive a fantastic statement of beauty. When one ponders "Whatever happened to beauty?" -- one need not look farther than Schubert's Symphony number 9, the Great C-Major symphony. If I am to believe in legend, I'll believe this one: 'that having heard its first performance, Schumann is reported to have said he thought it the greatest instrumental work since the death of Beethoven'. I quite agree.

As luck woud have it...

March 25, 2009

Serendipity

Last night on WQED-FM, a little after 8pm, I just happened to tune in at what I would call 'the perfect time.' Well anytime is a good time, but on this occasion it was indeed perfect because I was listening to a concert recorded a few months ago at Chatham University; a concert, coincidentally, I had intended to attend, but was unable. So I was delighted to hear this music, and with three members of the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra. Now admittedly, I didn't recognize it for Brahms, and I didn't recognize the artists while listening; it was surely pleasant and relaxing, sometimes driving and vigorous, and just plain great -- I remember thinking that this is the kind of music that I strive to hear. I was alerted by Ted Sohier after it was over, as to by whom and where it was performed.

The Chamber Music Concert included four women, alumni of The Curtis Institute of Music, performing together for the first time in Pittsburgh, and presented by Chatham University. This concert was held on Sunday, January 11, 2009:

Brahms Piano Quartet in G minor
Tatjana Mead Chamis, Viola - Pittsburgh Symphony Associate Principal
Heather Conner, Piano - Salt Lake City
Jennifer Ross, Violin - Pittsburgh Symphony Principal
Anne Martindale Williams , Cello - Pittsburgh Symphony Principal

Aha, so this was the Brahms that I was enjoying! That same concert.

There were several other pieces presented that evening, and oh, how I wish I had experienced them as well:

Robert Schumann - "Fairy Tales"
Henri Vieuxtemps - Sonata in B flat Major Op.36
Boris Pigovat - "Nigun" for Solo Viola (Pittsburgh Premiere)

Update: I've heard back from a musician of the PSO that there is a proposed cut of funds provided by the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania to WQED. This is sad news indeed, if it comes to fruition. In that event I would hope that WQED finds ways to make up for it. I've made suggestions to them every year, with my donation, the kinds of things they do in business. I don't know how much leeway they have, considering they are funded partly by the Federal government (NPR news is one expensive place to cut, I want to hear music, not news). I would be disappointed if whatever cuts mean that we no longer hear PSO music on the radio, that would be devastating. I'll be contacting my state representative to request they reconsider this cut.

09:54 AM in Doug Bauman | Permalink

Carnegie Music Hall - Premier of Beethoven Oboe with full symphony

March 20, 2009

Tonight I enjoyed a magnificent premier of a composition reconstructed by Renate Rosenblatt of a draft of an Oboe Concerto by Beethoven. When I say premier, I mean that it is the first time ever played with full orchestra. The acoustics at Carnegie Music Hall are more intimate, beautiful in their own way, and for the first time I experience true stereo, or perhaps surround sound. This is my first time at this beautiful hall. Being this close at this hall is a desirable place to be.

Renate Rosenblatt spoke herself before the concert, along with Jim Cunningham. We got to find out some more about the ideas and techniques she used to reconstruct the movement, the slow movement, based on a sketch done by Beethoven. It is now called the Adagio for Oboe and Strings. Some of here comments as she passed around the draft score: "The only thing that is legible is the opening theme, six measures... and the rest of it is sort of -- scratches, blots. Not every note was engraved in stone. He worked on sketch after sketch, and crossed things out -- was a little messy... It's like a jigsaw puzzle where some pieces are missing."

When the Adagio was over, I was more than impressed. I could easily imagine this being the original composition by Beethoven, in fact, I was wanting for more. I wished I could have listened to the first and third movements as well, if they existed.

Click here and here for the audio of the chat (not great quality, but interesting).

What an ornate entrance!

And inside, the hall is spectacular!

08:51 AM in Doug Bauman | Permalink

Perpetual Motion

March 08, 2009 - Pittsburgh Symphony Concert

Anticipation, that's my initial sensation, while waiting for the "Dumbarton Oaks" Concerto by Igor Stravinsky. Such an intimate setting for the orchestra, clustered tightly as a small ensemble, seemingly so on the large stage at Heinz Hall. It began as a warm round of applause, as conductor Hannu Lintu appeared on stage without baton in hand; this would be conducted with hands only. The 'principals only' crew, arrayed around our guest maestro, in a compact semi-circle, commenced.

The beginning was perhaps like something that would be envisioned as an event at the Olympics, but no, that's too big, perhaps a race at the park. The sound was obviously not as large, but was lyrical and pleasant, as most of the phrases went from high to low, marching in rhythm, the pulse and beat of the envisioned race, continually flowing with the occasional brief pause, and ending slowly. Between movements a bout of coughing suddenly burst forth from the audience, it seemed as if a quarter the audience was coughing in what seemed to be mocked and feigned, perhaps to say once and for all: please, no more coughing during the performance. Conductor Lintu turned part way towards the audience, and laughter burst forth, all this happening in the few moments between the first and second movement; Not a typical scene, and worth noting.

This brief look at Lintu's humor aside, he next commenced the second movement with another flourish. This slow movement was quiet and tentative. The melody seemed to me to suggest these lyrics: "Count two, count three, stay airy and carefree; jaunty, frolic, but never catch a bee, I'm lucky and breezy." The whole Stravinsky concerto was pleasant, and was a good choice as a companion to the Prokofiev concerto, both having the same sense of perpetual motion.

Conductor Lintu did a spectacular job this evening, filling in at the last moment. His technique and energy were contagious. I enjoyed watching his conducting style, sometimes stern, others expressive, and always full of zest and pizazz. If the PSO were so inclined, I would like to see him again at the helm.

Yuja Wang played a magnificent rendition of Prokofiev Piano Co. No. 2, along with the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra. I saw it on the internet prior, but that just doesn't do this composition justice. It must be experienced in person, in a large concert hall like Heinz Hall. The sound is much bigger and grand. Watching the soloist was a treat. She not only played with stunning detail and amazing ability, her movements were spirited and accented many phrases with vitality. She seemed to meld with lyrical romantic parts, and race with spunky, get up and go, spirited passages.

Here is a video, same music, same pianist, but not the same orchestra www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z-OUnF4IS_8.

Some thoughts while watching and listening:
Pensive, then whirling like a march. Themes perhaps from Liszt and Tchaikovsky. Like a cascade, accelerating near the bottom of the falls, alarming and rejoining the orchestra. 2nd movement, with reverb, quick and fast like a chipmunk spinning and darting. 3rd movement, like a theme to a Hitchcock movie, interwoven with more themes from Liszt. Somewhat like the 2nd, but all grown up, now more like an elephant, with the conductor directing, arms and baton out like the trunk, rearing up the wind section, strings marching quite along. Reciting lyrics, mnemonic techniques remembered and revealed, almost whimsical, many voices, creatures scurrying all around. Now the cello versus the piano, a dramatic counterpoint, other instruments join in: don't be alarmed with my syncopated rhythm. Crossed arms now on the piano, with beautiful low pitched keys, blending into finale.

I can't avoid the glance

Nary a virtuous spell, could break me free,
but is that not my fateful chance?
I am too weak, ever mesmerized,
ever captured, caught up in trance

Some hours ago she was mine,
I was her one thought refined,
even as I guess that I opined,
but now its just a dream fading quickly out of mind

Meld back to that fateful night,
as I arrived unseen and ready for next flight,
prospects unknown,
wisdom somewhat grown,
knowledge of what once could be, or might

Spellbound, bound by your spell,
with subtle mystery all but around
Hearkening night, surreal petals
set to obscure what's yet unfound

Bold orange passage, finite and forthright
I'm looking down beyond my humble height
adroitly nimble fingers dancing digits slight
rich timbre broad and full, what thou recite

look into my eyes, smile, now furrow your brow
quick glance will tell, mimic my style
grim and prim, avoid sudden certainty
and oft on a whim, please linger a while

I am hypnotized, I can't avoid the glance,
I've a maestro to observe, but by chance
that you are in that line of sight,
serendipity not unknown this night

I really enjoyed the concert this evening, it was one of the best I've ever heard. The piano concerto was succinct and beautiful. Osorio did a great job.

One of my favorite symphonies of all time, from Dvorak, No. 8, was played with such verve, I was simply blown away, I can't explain it any other way, except, via a poem. I read later, in the notes, that the opening movement is 'surprisingly dark and pensive'. I'm not sure what they mean by that, perhaps the use of deeper tones, but to me, it is beautiful, and appeals to a fuller range of my appreciation. I don't find it in any way 'dark', just rich and vibrant. You tell me (external link). The use of bass, cello and viola simply add much color. I also want to thank Manfred Honeck and the PSO for the new seating arrangement of the musicians in this concert; the location of the basses on the left perhaps augments the sound.

O Furtune - smiled on me

To be able to experience, live, Haydn's Oboe Concerto and Orff's Carmina burana in one evening was fortunate and exhilarating.

Haydn's Oboe Concerto is one of my favorite all time pieces. Something about it sends chills down my spine. I first heard it in the early 1990's on WQED-FM 89.3 at my work place, at lunch. A friend, after hearing me exclaim that it was a fantastic composition, told me to call the DJ and ask what it was, so I did. Paul Johnston, the DJ at the time, was glad to tell me it was Haydn's Oboe Concerto. So ever since then I've purchased a few versions, and have been waiting for the PSO to bring it to Pittsburgh. Well tonight I was not disappointed, the PSO premiere performance was just as great as I could have expected, and Cynthia Koledo DeAlmeida did a spectacular job on the Oboe.

The Carmina burana likewise did not disappoint, the live performance was so much more powerful than any prerecorded version. And what a surprise, all those lovely movements in between the opening and closing O Fortuna. This, therefore, I would consider as my first hearing of this complete piece, even though I did recognize one other movement in between. The complexion of the O Fortuna movement, and all the other movements, to my ears, and eyes, seemed someone different. Not knowing Latin, I did not know what they were singing, not a problem as the singing itself sounded melodious and understanding was not a requirement for enjoyment. The 'new' music showed many light, airy and beautiful parts at first, much different than the opening, and not what I expected. Then when the solo singers began to sing what to me seemed to be a comic opera, beautifully performed, and some humorous body movements causing audience laughter, I was again surprised, pleasantly.

What is this piece? I kept wondering, it has so many elements that I find difficult to put together. All of the movements were lovely to hear, but I was in a quandary. The culmination of what seemed to be a love affair ensued, but I was not sure, and it seemed to come together at the end and a reprise of the O Fortuna concluded the cantata. Later, at home, I read the English translation of the O Fortuna (below). This seemed to indicate that perhaps this is a tragedy, and not a comedy, so again I'm confused. I see I've got some reading to do to bring myself up to speed. But the lingering impression was that the music was fantastic, and all the players of the Mendelssohn Choir of Pittsburgh, the soloists and the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra conducted by Manfred Honeck, did a fantastic job. I can't wait to experience this again, next time I'll have context.

English translation of "O Fortuna," a poem from Carmina Burana

"O Fortune,
like the moon
Stands constantly changing,
ever waxing
but waning;
hateful life
now oppresses
and then soothes
as fancy takes it;
poverty
and power
it melts them like ice.

Fate - monstrous
and empty,
you whirling wheel,
stand malevolent,
well-being is vain
and always fades to nothing,
shadowed
and veiled
you plague me too;
now through the game
I bring my bare back
to your villainy.

Fate, in health
and virtue,
is against me
driven on
and weighted down,
always enslaved.
So at this hour
without delay
pluck the vibrating strings;
since Fate
strikes down the strong man,
everyone weep with me!"

O Fortuna as a creative spark

What exactly is Carmina Burana, the O Fortuna music by Carl Orff? I frankly don't know for sure. I'm writing my thoughts on what it means to me. First, I've mostly heard the approximately 2 and a half minute segment of the O Fortuna, the most famous movement from Orff's cantata. Who hasn't heard this? It's so famous, that I suspect it is as recognizable as just about any other composition. I remember it was used in a television advertisement for the Marine Corps and one for the National Guard.

I also remember it was used in many movies, the one I remember most is in the movie 'Excalibur', 1981. Others include 'Hunt for Red October', 1990, 'The Doors', 1991, and Lord of the Rings.

But that's ultimately not what it means to me. To me it isn't a thought of a collective force, but rather an individual creative spark. A song of an individual who is perhaps sought by the collective, or shunned, but operates independently, on his or her own, using their own internal force, their own power of thought, reason and sense of right and wrong, in a quest to do what's right for themselves and for all, to reject the unholy or ungodly, to embrace the adventure, to endure the torment, the rejection of the collectivist or societal norms when those norms are wrong, to surmount any odds, and to do it all with a great zest, zeal and humor presented forward and outwards, a certain unalienable smile and jovial spirit, to quench the thirst for the adventurer himself, as a kind of pirate with a gentleman's charm.


Indeed this music is compelling, the kind that drives man to passion, to movement, to action. It distinctly has that effect on me. To achieve, to write, to invent, any creative individualist act that I can think of, to type faster, to produce, without hesitation, something, I know not what, and yet it is there. But it is too short in that form, I'm awaiting the rest of it, I'm wanting more. I could listen to that segment, part of that O Fortuna movement again, and I will. But I will hear the whole cantata performed by the Pittsburgh Symphony on Saturday night, and I will write more.

I've found out since that:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carmina_burana
From the 11th-13th Century, Carmina Burana is a collection of love and vagabond songs.
Carmina Burana, also known as the Burana Codex, is a manuscript collection found in 1803 in the Bavarian monastery of Benediktbeuern and now housed in the Bayerische Staatsbibliothek in Munich. The 119 leaves of the original collection contain 228 poems compiled by three different scribes.
Fortuna is the goddess of fortune in Roman Mythology.


http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carmina_Burana_(Orff)
Carmina Burana is a scenic cantata composed by Carl Orff between 1935 and 1936. It is based on 24 of the poems found in the medieval collection Carmina Burana. Its full Latin title is Carmina Burana: Cantiones profanae cantoribus et choris cantandae comitantibus instrumentis atque imaginibus magicis ("Songs of Beuern: Secular songs for singers and choruses to be sung together with instruments and magic images.") Carmina Burana is part of Trionfi, the musical triptych that also includes the cantata Catulli Carmina and Trionfo di Afrodite. The best-known movement is "O Fortuna" that opens and closes the piece.

Metronomic candor

The beauty of Beethoven's Symphony number 8 has driven me to poetry once more, based on words I wrote during the wonderful performance by the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra under the baton (literally) of Rafael Frühbeck de Burgos. I heard marvelous synchronicity and superlative metronomic fluidity. The maestro was wonderful with his marvelous conducting, the left hand was expressive and the right hand led with the baton, and there were plenty of smiles in the orchestra to go around...

Metronomic candor - Beethoven Symphony No. 8

Gorgeous serendipity, landed squarely on my nose
No lack of hesitation, dare rob me of my prose
Speaking speech in volume, pitched above three rows
Luck she barely knew me, and nimble on her toes

Born with trepidation, and furrows on her brow
A subtle time and mellow rhyme, and now's when I avow
Overture preamble, pioneering lead somehow
Further salutation, hello goodbye and ciao

What rapid introspection, as during tranquil lull
Was thought and then was lost upon, and glance would soon befall
Approaching gentle movement, commence and dart away
Lunge full bore, sawing bow and sweeping sooth foray

Steeped to incredulity, behind inquiring glance
Thread simple hesitation, woven as a dance
Morphing other voices, and rhythm to enhance
Stretched around my temple, unlikely as romance

Extend seesaw return chutzpa
Winding up reverb
Unleash what's raw and look voila
Adoration cannot curb

Start again, reprise and yet, consider slower still
Metronomic candor, ascending toward yon hill
Drowning with your grandeur, grasping for a thrill
Bass and sound revolve around, strings they do instill

Impetuous dampened softness, rich with full contour
Sweet and slender tremor, ascend with bass once more
Burst horns upon my consciousness, alert to hear the score
Prepare one heart for apex, last passion to endure

Trio Orchestration

February 02, 2009

I really enjoyed the concert, and the Trio was new for me, and quite beautiful. The piano concerto was sublime (photo below with pianist Orion Weiss during the pre-concert chat: he was marvelous in the Grieg piano concerto). A few comments from Maestro Tortelier on his orchestration of the Ravel Trio. This is a very shortened list of the remarks that elicited a response from the audience, laughter or applause. He was quite entertaining during his introduction of the piece. Read the description for context.

• .. in the Mother Goose - Alright, you still with me?
• .. it's the same music anyway - I hope you recognize it.
• .. game of tunes / two sides of a coin - witty / subtle and waltzy
• .. scherzo or chorale: a trio of trios
• .. we start with the strings, are you ready for sensual horns, sexy trumpets
• .. a slow Passacaille: starting with only double basses, builds to a climax and all the way down to the bottom
• .. (describing arches with joyful impetuosity) one arch is enough
• .. Are you interested in the climax? -- we make more noise
• .. (based on Ravel's notes) not sounding trumpety enough, I gave this part to the trumpets

I also very much enjoyed the first piece, I wrote this while listening...
My poem based on Jean Sibelius: The Swan of Tuonela

You were a dream to me, I could not conceive
heighten tension sliding below
ebbing higher gently swayed as in a breeze
softly enunciating naivety

Flutter by, but don't wave
don't see me below your soaring wing
perceive your world, but not my black watery depths
awakening beyond as light permeates mist

Full and rich depths surround
as grand aura fills my sound
your lone voice observes alone
higher still - would we soar at the same height?

Yet not together
Take a bow and smile

What a treat! Montero at the PSO

January 24, 2009

Tonight, I enjoyed so many facets of the concert at the PSO, its hard to do them all justice. The works performed were all wonderful, and some were new to me, including Barber Symphony No. 1 and Mendelssohn Symphony No. 5 (actually he composed this symphony as the second in the sequence, but it was labeled as 5), both wonderful works in their own right, yet not played very often on the classical stations.

It was Gabriela Montero who stole the show. Her playing in the Rhapsody in Blue was a unique experience. The jazz and tempo were all her own. But the real treat was right after the Gershwin composition. Ms. Montero asked the audience what kind of improvisation she could do, what particular song, perhaps something from Pittsburgh, she could take and turn into an impromptu rendition for just this occasion. No need to wonder, the mass of the audience chanted 'Here we go', yes, the Steeler song (if you are not from Pittsburgh, realize that the Pittsburgh Steelers are going to the Super bowl next week). And there she went, playing a magnificent composition with the Steeler chant interwoven beautifully, some classical Baroque, and finally ending with a rhythmic mamba. The audience irrupted with the most sudden applause I have ever heard. I was a sight to behold, a sound never to be forgotten.

After intermission we were again surprised: Ms. Montero and three other PSO musicians formed a quartet and performed John Williams' "Air and Simple Gifts" which was originally played a few days ago at the presidential inauguration. It was a beautiful piece, obviously based on a theme of Copland.

Afterward, there was a post concert chat with Jim Cunningham and Ms. Montero.

Question: "What is your favorite piece to play"

Montero: "There are many, right now I'm really into concertos. I'm playing Rachmaninoff 3, that's one of my all time favorite pieces to play. I'm also playing Brahms No. 1 in Vienna, which I absolutely adore. I'm very fond of Brahms, Schumann, Bach, Beethoven, Rachmaninoff. Rachmaninoff I die, it's very romantic."

Nixon in China and Doctor Atomic at the PSO

January 17, 2009

The music I heard last night at the Pittsburgh Symphony, composed by John Adams, had two different complexions. Nixon in China, an opera with complete symphony and six fantastic voices, was a wonderfully melodic composition which, based on the music alone, was a completely beautiful artistic composition that I found quite pleasing. It was music that I would like to hear again. My only disappointment was with some of the words, but my mind only perceived a few of those, I'm one of those right brain types that only hears the music. Somehow, the words I did hear startled me with their political dissonance, and I chose instead to concentrate on the wonderful score. I remember the idea of Nixon visiting Red China as a wonderful way to open people's minds to the fact that worlds can be brought together.

The second composition played by the PSO and written and conducted by Mr. Adams was his Doctor Atomic Symphony. It began rather stark, with some musical dissonance, but what do you expect, it is supposed to represent the bomb. It went on to some very nice music throughout. At one point near the end there was a very sad and melodic movement which was simply beautiful, a very moving piece of music. Again I found myself wishing to hear this again. It was the kind of music that might compel one to write poetry. If I could hear it again, I think I would

Messiah, by Handel

December 14, 2008

My concert going experience Friday night was rather atypical. I went by myself. Other than the "Hallelujah" chorus, I had never heard any other parts of Handel's Messiah before. It was different, in several ways, than any classical concert I have attended. The orchestra was sparse, mostly strings, a few piccolos, a bassoon, later a few trumpets, and the keyboard player ping-ponging his way back and forth between the harpsichord and the organ. The choir was smaller than other occasions, but 43 was still a good size and sounded great. I really liked listening to that bassoon, on this occasion it was easy to discern.

Somehow I expected this composition to be more completely filled with chorus. I did enjoy the chorus and solo singers immensely, but I didn't quite expect so much of the traditional classical parts of the composition, the beautiful baroque orchestral music. These parts would really be interesting if put together in a form without the chorus, but then that wouldn't be the point.

I couldn't help but notice the audience around me. One fellow in particular had what appeared to be the complete score, faded yellow and a bit frayed. He seemed to be overjoyed to be there, and often showed the score to his friend beside him. He followed along with the music, mostly reading the score rather than watching the stage below. I was enthralled with his enthusiasm, it was contagious, and I couldn't help but frequently follow his actions. After a while I figured he must be a music director himself, perhaps of a local college or high school, and he was here to listen, observe, compare and somehow gather together his own impressions of how he would direct his own performance based on the show we were all enjoying.

There were others around me who were singing along at parts, especially the Hallelujah Chorus, even though the sing along wasn't this night. I believe the program was switched. Originally there was to be an audience sing-along on Friday evening, but it had been switched to Saturday. When they announced that at the beginning, some moaned and groaned, others laughed and seemed relieved.

I thoroughly enjoyed this experience, I can't wait to go back next year.

I wrote this description while watching "It's a Wonderful Life" on TV. At the end, when he is glad to live again, George Bailey, is hugging his kids and says "Hallelujah"! Now there's a sentiment with which I can thoroughly concur. "Every time a bell rings, an angel gets his wings"

Beethoven Piano Co. No. 4

November 25, 2008

My impressions of the Beethoven Piano Co. No. 4, performed last weekend by Garrick Ohlsson and the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Manfred Honeck: I was pleased with the performance, by Ohlsson and all of the members of the PSO. I was impressed by Honeck's mannerisms. I can't quite describe them yet, but they have a certain style, and I will try to put my finger on it in later, but to note: when he stands straight and tall with baton held high, expect the orchestra to respond in kind with a wonderfully explosive musical expression. Honeck comes across as humble in person when speaking, but his real expressions come when he is conducting.

The first movement seemed to contain some parts or additional phrases I've not heard before in the many times I've listened to prerecorded versions of this concerto. Is this my imagination?

The second movement was very moving. The fullness of the strings and the orchestra immediately brought the kind of force to my ears which never fails to impress. Often, the soft piano was interleaving with the orchestra like a gentle stream flowing through a mountain pass.

In the program notes, I read that this particular concerto was full of surprises for its time. Beethoven was a creative individualist -- just the quality I like; an artist that is anxious to "break the mold at every opportunity," how refreshing!. The beginning of the concerto forged a change in style. One thing mentioned was that our beloved composer changed the 'key' from the first few beginning phrases of the piano, to the entry of the orchestra, and that that represented the kind of change that was readily noticed by the first to listen to this concerto, Beethoven's early audience.

Here is my dilemma. I have very little training in music theory. I do know where each note is on a keyboard, and can readily play compositions with my right hand only, but the notion of a 'key' has somehow escaped my understanding for quite a long time. For a music lover like myself, it wasn't necessary for my enjoyment. Out of curiosity, I picked up a 'dummies' guide to music theory. I read through the entire description of keys and notions of major and minor. My first thought was that perhaps this is a notion which makes it easier for musicians to play their instruments. Just like computer can interpret instructions, the musician can interpret the notes, with the context being the 'key'. Context is a useful thing for any profession.

Key seemed to also denote the actual sets of tones of the set of notes being described. I must hand it to musicians, I find the whole notation and concepts quite difficult to grasp. Being originally an electrical engineer, I do know a little about frequencies and harmonics. I think the notions represented by 'key' could just as easily been represented by mathematical concepts related to the frequency of each note, and the relationships they all hold with respect to each other.

My contention is that I don't necessarily need to know much about 'keys' to understand and enjoy music. None of us in the audience need to know these concepts. I am sure there are quite a few out there that are conversant in this music theory, but I am not addressing them, there are likely more who do not. I am not turned off when I read the kind of description related in the program notes, I accept them as an 'extra' bit of biographical context to the music we are about to hear. But my take on the music is going to always be how it relates to my ears and mind. And of course being a live performance I get to see the performance as well.

So when I read that the 'key' change was interpreted by early listeners as 'really wrong' I am curious. Why? -- because I didn't detect a 'key' change at all. I went back to a recording I have on CD and listened again to the opening over and over. I tried to direct my mind to detect this key change that was described. But I cannot. I don't hear it. I think it is because the change in 'key' is an absolute change in the base frequency. Yet my mind is tuned to relative notes. I hear the exact sequence of notes being played because, relative to each other, they are equal algebraic multiples away from each other -- sort of my own musical theory of relativity. I don't necessarily hear the absolute frequencies, but the relationships of the sets of notes to one another in a particular phrase. If the same phrase is repeated in different key, then to me, it was the same phrase, sounding just a good as the original.

I wonder if these 'original' listeners to Beethoven, especially those who were critics or music reviewers some 200 years ago, are perhaps a minority. I wonder if perhaps there were many others, who like me, simply sat back and enjoyed the music. But when they read the press, unlike me, they were told that the aforementioned 'key' change was 'really wrong' or 'simply wrong' and did not conform to the typical opening of a concerto. So, like people of today, perhaps they let that information bias or distort their view. And forever more, we will believe that the 'consensus' of that time was that Beethoven was different, and therefore a bit 'mad'.

That's the kind of madness I call genius, I wish I had a bit of it myself.

Impressions of the Bruckner Symphony No. 4

November 22, 2008

The second movement of the Bruckner was my favorite. You hear the raw power of the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra strings, each member acting in unison, pushing the romantic uplifting theme, reverberating deep into my body and soul. In person it is worlds apart from a recording. The violas get to shine. As they play with alacrity and potency, their theme is counter-posed by the rest of the strings preforming pizzicato. Interesting how only 12 viola players can put forth so much volume, when compared to perhaps 26 violins and the rest of the strings, not to mention the obvious fact that violas are facing away from the audience, yet it sounded wonderful, even to my ears, being seated in the very last row of the gallery, a testament to the acoustics at Heinz Hall.

Take a look at another performance of the same movement:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=leKZUAMVwfY

The third movement is more famous, it's been played countless times on WQED, I recognized it right away. It is one of those pieces of music that literally send goose bumps along one's body. The dynamic range of this symphony is amazing (as is the duration).

John Williams - "Air and Simple Gifts" this weekend at the PSO

Anyone going to the inauguration today? I wrote my senators and congressman, and requested a ticket. They wrote back that unfortunately there were too many people requesting, and that I would not be afforded a free ticket (free tickets for constituents are a custom if they are available).

Well here is a chance for anyone in Pittsburgh, or traveling to our lucky city this weekend, to 'feel' like you are at the inauguration. Attend a concert at Heinz Hall this weekend, sit back, listen to the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra and our guest artist perform the new work composed by John Williams specifically for the inauguration, close your eyes, and pretend you are at the inauguration. Or, better yet, pretend you are at warm and cozy Heinz Hall, because that's a lot more comfortable than the National Mall at 30 degrees Fahrenheit today. I'll be at Heinz Hall this weekend, I've had my ticket since last August, and now I hear the pleasant surprise.. These are the details that were just sent to me:

On to this weekend's performances featuring Gabriela Montero performing "Rhapsody in Blue". The concerts will be conducted by our own concertmaster Andres Cardenes, and also feature Barber's Symphony No. 1 and Mendelssohn's "Reformation" Symphony. After the performance of "Rhapsody in Blue", Miss Montero will also do some improvisation based on suggestions from the audience.

One very interesting addition to the concerts this weekend: tomorrow, Gabriela Montero will be playing as part of a brief musical performance between the swearings-in of the Vice President and the President. The piece is a new, short work for violin, cello, clarinet, and piano composed specially for the occasion by John Williams and is called "Air and Simple Gifts". The other performers at the inauguration will be Itzhak Perlman (violin), Yo Yo Ma (cello), and Anthony McGill (clarinet). Right after the event, Miss Montero will get on a flight for Pittsburgh.

Here's the exciting part: John Williams has granted us permission to perform the piece with Miss Montero and our players during our concerts this weekend. So we will be adding "Air and Simple Gifts" to the program this weekend. The performers with Miss Montero will be Concertmaster Andres Cardenes, Associate Principal Cello David Premo, and Principal Clarinet Michael Rusinek.

Bliss with Biss and a full-day excursion on a mountain

I'm really enjoying the concerts at Heinz Hall this season. I've been to all but one so far. Mozart's 22nd piano concerto played by Jonathan Biss was a beautiful pleasing experience, particularly the middle movement. It started out solemn, with the piano pushing that theme. Drama was heightened frequently with the orchestra alternately trying to lift the spirits, until the piano again returned to a dolefulness that eventually prevailed, as the orchestra eventually followed suit. While listening, I enjoyed watching with my binoculars the exquisite playing by Biss. His hands flowed effortlessly over the keyboard. I was watching 4 hands play at once, his and the reflection in the wood.

What journey takes 1 day, 4 years and 1 hour to complete? That would be the Alpine Symphony by Richard Strauss which followed after the intermission. It was a story, a tale, told in huge fashion, with the largest complement of musicians I've ever seen assembled in one place; and they were all packed onto the stage of Heinz Hall this very night, to perform this grand tone poem, taking almost an hour to execute. I've read that this tone poem by Richard Strauss depicts a full-day excursion on a mountain in the Bavarian Alps. It took Strauss 4 years to complete this sweeping masterpiece. Some of the early sections which represent sunrise, the ascent, entry into the forest and wandering by the brook were very pleasing to me -- a joyous flowing music which I wouldn't mind hearing over and over again. In fact, I will, someday, because this concert was recorded and will be released on CD, and I will most certainly buy one myself.

Near the end we hear an ominous timpani roll and a clarinet melody, describing the calm before the storm, then trombone chords with descending strings bring home the thunder and tempest. I noticed a lengthy section of what appeared to be rolled steel -- it was thunderously rolled producing spacious sound effects. Now that's what I call a one time only instrument. (see photo).

One of my favorite parts of the entire tone poem came at the very end: night. Perhaps those marvelously soft descending melodies stuck in my mind because that was the last thing I heard, but I think it is because those melodies are so catchy, I whistled a bit of them all the way back to my car.

Alpine Symphony - Richard Strauss

Eine Alpensinfonie
My images, only one I actualy made in the Alps, can you guess which one?
My interpretation of the scenes...

• Night
  
  
• Sunrise
  
  
• the Ascent
  
  
• Entry into the Woods
  
  
• Walking along the Brook
  
  
• at the Waterfall
  
  
• a Visual Feature / apparition
  
  
• on Flowery Meadows
  
  
• on the Alp / Pasture
  
  
• Wrong Path through the Thicket
  
  
• on the Glacier
  
  
• Moments of Danger
  
  
• at the Summit
  
  
• Vision
  
  
• the Fog Rises
  
  
• the Sun is Gradually Obscured
  
  
• Elegy
  
  
• Calm before the Storm
  
  
• Thunder and storm, Descent
  
  
• Sunset
  
  
• the Journey Ends
  
  
• Night
  
  

Eine Alpensinfonie

Apparently Strauss viewed his work as more than descriptive, but rather "philosophical" --
"in it there is: moral purification through one's own strength, liberation through work, and the worship of eternal, glorious nature."

I believe that through current financial and political strife, this symphony is a perfect way to cut through all the events of the world which may overwhelm. Today we can learn to abide or respect these words. What better way to deal with the overwhelming political conflicts than through 'moral purification through one's own strength,' for one's own truth and compass should not be deflected by everything around us. We should stand for ourselves and walk, as if we were on an alpine journey, through the strife with a smile on our face and our own strength to guide us and keep us moving with grace. Keep in mind this symphony was completed and performed in Berlin and Philadelphia during WWI. That fact seemed to escape the abridged historical guides I've read.

'Liberation through work' - this enduring ethic is timeless. Now we must imagine the work that Strauss put forth to complete this magnificent and grand symphonic poem, the height and breadth of a grand and majestic alpine mountain. His own liberation was through his work to complete this epoch in epoch times. We should emulate his resolve!

'The worship of eternal, glorious nature.' - In the final analysis, this is the one true saving grace for all of us. A common theme that none can deny, a simple base upon which we can all stand in agreement, that the beauty of nature is worthwhile. So to hear this beauty in such a grand and aural poem as the one fashioned by Strauss and played by our symphony is an experience I anxiously await. I hope the experience I can grasp and hold on to, to undergo a sort of transformation of spirit in our own uncertain times of turmoil. We don't need change, we need a beautiful expression to hold on to, a moral regeneration to our own deeply held beliefs, a work ethic to grasp and employ in times ahead. Our liberation will be one of truth and beauty through nature.

Pittsburgh, Bohemia and the wild wild west

Three completely different pieces were presented at tonight's concert. Since two of them were presented in the first half, and I've never heard them before, it is difficult for me to remember all the aspects I know were floating through my mind at the time. "The Good Life" made its premiere. Well the good life started out cheerfully, full of smiles, and it ended up that way, and along the way there was strife. But what I remember was the quality of the music. The Mendelssohn Choir was fabulous, as were the soloists, and mixed with the symphonic music, the combination made a big impact on me. I wish I could hear it again for comparison and to reinforce my impressions. To me the music was fun, not in the same sense as the symphony to follow the intermission. It was purely a joy to listen and to watch this beautiful composition performed so beautifully. I was smiling the entire time.

The links, photo and post concert chat probably do a better job than do my words.

After the symphony I joined some friends at a restaurant across the street, including my friend who I've known since 1980, originally from Romania where he grew up. I wondered if Romania was part of the original Bohemia, the home of Dvorák. His reply was that from America, it might appear they were the same, but not so close from over there. However, they were neighbors in a sense. My analogy was to compare Dvorák with my friend. Now we know that Dvorák came to America and stayed a while. Here he wrote much of the symphony we heard tonight. My friend, from Romania, came to the USA by escaping the communist rule when he was still a youth. But my idea is that they both came here and were impressed by the vastness, perhaps by reputation of being 'big' or by actually experiencing our breadth. Perhaps this symphony represents the idea of America, our freedoms, our vastness, our individualism, and our wild wild west. My friend tells me of a story when he want on vacation out west and played the 4th movement of this symphony again and again. His description is that the force of this movement eloquently describes this land. I've had that same idea myself. Now the historians tell us differently, that Dvorák didn't experience that directly, but wrote much of this in New York. That his symphony was sort of an email message back home because he was homesick. That version isn't very romantic. I like my version better: What is to prevent us from believing that his imagination did not conceive of this vastness when composing? It is the idea I like to keep, to have and to hold in my particular imagination of this symphony, the beauty of the land, the country and the music seem to all go together, however it might have come about. It just is, and it is, beautiful!

Well we discussed this at the table, and another fellow who was born in the Czech Republic (Bohemia) agreed with my idea that we should best listen to music, especially new music, and interpret for ourselves what it means, without influences from the written words to tell us what the music is really supposed to mean. Art is abstract, and why force people into a mold of understanding. I listen first, form my own opinion, using my own creative mind to do the interpretations and colorations. Then I read the notes to see what it was 'supposed' to be, and I compare. Sometimes they are the same, but more often than not, they differ, and what's wrong with that. It's supposed to be fun and entertaining. I guess it's the individualist in me, the wild wild west rugged individualist, that likes to play it my way, without being told, that feels that way, but I found at least one other who agreed at the table.

This is a new country

Dvorák New World Symphony.
This music invokes these words in my soul.
One must hear the music to understand the words, as I do. Written today, but heard in my mind many times before, while listening to this beautiful music.

1st movement
0:55

Come with me,
hear with me,
stand with me,
see with me,
a country..

2:00

yes, my country,
blend with me gently,
green and sultry,
roll with me bluntly

3:38

so heavenly blue,
as refreshingly new,
and everything grew,
oh forever renew

4:20

sweet, my country,
love the land nearby
flying as a buckeye
meandering into the sky
hovering over my eye

5:00

as my country,
living beneath a tree
as my country,
living as free as me

5:40

don't you see it
don't you hear it
don't you sense it
now in transit

5:50

as a country,
wide expansive country
live a country,
as a new world country

2nd movement
0:48

This is my country,
land that I do love,
growing free, part of me,
gather what I'm of.

1:16

Come with me
see with me
what we dearly love
gently
pastorally
slumbering above

1:28

This is my country,
revel in my land,
mountains high, rivers ply,
footsteps in the sand

3rd movement

consummate freedom
try my liberty,
passionate nectar
quaff me heartily,

crystalline humor
wit is levity - brevity - remedy

4th movement

This is a new country,
tranquil as a dove,
one new world discovery,
forever a land that I love

Welcome to my country,
seen high from above,
this land is an ecstasy,
said highly enough, I love