Archive for May, 2012

Paying Retainers to Managers

Thursday, May 31st, 2012

By: Edna Landau

To ask a question, please write Ask Edna.

A note from Edna Landau:

As summer is fast approaching, many of our readers will be traveling and enjoying holidays in the coming months. Therefore, Ask Edna will be taking a break during the summer months (June through August). We look forward to having you back with us in September. Meanwhile, please feel free to continue to send questions to Ask Edna during the summer, as they will help us to “hit the ground running” when we return. I wish everyone a most enjoyable summer.

Dear Edna:

I am a member of a chamber ensemble which is in discussions with a small agency regarding management. We have been asked to pay a monthly “administrative fee” to cover the management’s expenses on our behalf. Can you please tell me whether this is customary? Also, should these payments cease when the manager begins to receive commissions from concerts we perform? – D.B.

Dear D.B.:

The answer I am going to give to your question is very different from what it might have been five years ago. At that time, artists were very leery of an agency that asked for a monthly retainer. Today, I think it is incumbent upon artists to take a broader view. It is becoming increasingly difficult for soloists, ensembles, conductors and dance companies to obtain management. Times are challenging and managements need to focus their energies more than ever on the bottom line. A small or new agency faces the biggest challenges because they can’t amortize the cost of developing young artists’ careers against the hefty commissions received from well established artists. When Charles Hamlen and I worked together in the pre-IMG Artists days as Hamlen/Landau Management, we charged our artists for all expenses incurred on their behalf. This included phone, postage, printing (promotional pieces and inclusion on our printed artist roster), advertisements, and the like. Once we became IMG Artists and the roster became large and varied, we abandoned the practice of charging for phone and postage since it was too time-consuming to do the calculations. We continued to charge for promotional materials specifically prepared for individual artists. The administrative fee you are being asked to pay is not unjustifiable and it streamlines the expense reimbursement process for the manager. A reasonable monthly fee might be in the range of $300-$400 a month. Today there are a growing number of small, respected agencies who charge not only for the above expenses but for their travel to booking conferences, their exhibit costs at those conferences and the conference registration fee. Some are also charging their artists for maintaining and updating their presence on the management’s website. I know of one agency that charges an annual fee, which they are willing to accept in installments if that is easier for the artist. This fee might be anywhere from $2000 to $4000. These monthly and annual fees might even be slightly higher than the actual total of documented expenses. I can assure you that managements charging these fees wouldn’t do so if they didn’t need to. There are various times during the year, such as the summer months and December when income from commissions is way down. The monthly or annual fee enables the management to pay their own operational expenses during such times. I should add that there is so much that a manager does for an artist on a regular basis that is not related to concert booking ( such as setting up auditions, writing and updating bios, coordinating interviews, offering general career advice, showing up at performances) and that cannot be adequately compensated for solely from commissions, especially when the artist is starting out and fees are rather low. In your particular case, your manager won’t earn any income from you for at least 12 to 18 months, since engagements are booked with a long lead time. Once this period has passed and you begin to generate commission income for the management, there is no reason why you can’t discuss the administrative fee and see if it can be lowered or waived. If the answer is no but you are otherwise happy with how things are going, you should consider yourselves lucky to have management at all and view these payments as you do other career related costs such as a tax accountant, concert clothing, and purchase or maintenance of your instruments. Remember that at least in the U.S. , they are tax-deductible.

To ask a question, please write Ask Edna.

© Edna Landau 2012

Bwana Clark

Wednesday, May 30th, 2012

by Sedgwick Clark

It was quite a day yesterday for our last complete day in Africa: I rode Coco, a 34-year-old elephant, and got drenched in the all-consuming mist of Victoria Falls. Also, Zimbabwe’s notoriously corrupt president, Robert Mugabe, 88, made a surprise visit to the historic Victoria Falls Hotel, where we stayed our last two days. He was receiving some odd sort of United Nations proclamation as a “leader for tourism,” reported msnbc.com, which added that the U.N. was thus endorsing Zimbabwe as a friendly nation and safe-tourism destination. Human rights activists promptly criticized the move. Mugabe’s odious anti-gay and -lesbian views are well known, as are his abuses on his own people to retain power. Hotel workers wisely put up a photo of the president to mark the occasion, which spoke volumes.

Bwana Clark & Peggy Kane with Norman on Coco

In a few hours I’ll either be aloft or waiting for a plane connection for nearly 20 hours. PK and our favorite travelling companions have had a great two and a half weeks in South Africa. While they have typically been more aware than I, I’ve thoroughly enjoyed being liberated from my calendar, not knowing the date, the day, or the time of our activities. Oh, I was aware of a few of the world’s events, such as the deaths of Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau and my old boss Herbert Breslin. And, on the one day I happened to check Musicalamerica.com, I learned of the most public demonstration yet of Metropolitan Opera head Peter Gelb’s thin skin. Only three weeks after I arrived in New York in September 1968, F-D sang Mahler’s Kindertotenlieder in the first concert I ever heard by the New York Philharmonic and Leonard Bernstein—my first live encounters with these great musicians, all in one concert! Herbert rubbed a lot of people the wrong way, and my two months with him weren’t my most auspicious, but I still retain a respect for his burning commitment on behalf of most of his clients. As for Peter, heads of arts organizations all stick their heads on the critical chopping block if they aspire to greatness, and attempts to stifle serious criticism after less-than-successful performances will always smell fishy. He was wise to reverse his edict within a matter of hours.

I return to the rigor of my calendar recalling only my 2013 Directory deadlines and a lick of my lips in anticipation of Alan Gilbert’s NYPhil performance of Nielsen’s Third Symphony sometime this month. In my next blog I hope to test your patience with some brief comments on the pre-Africa Spring for Music concerts at Carnegie and the Met’s final performances of the season, as well as scintillating photos and video from our safari. Stay tuned.

I Want To Engage A Foreign Artist. Tell Me Everything I Need To Know!

Wednesday, May 30th, 2012

By Brian Taylor Goldstein

Dear FTM:

What needs to be done to bring a performing artist from a foreign country to play in a US concert? How is their pay reported to the IRS? Is withholding required? Do they have to pay taxes on the money that they earn in the US? Etc.

Wow, this is a pretty broad question. In general…and this is very general…in order for a foreign artist to perform legally in the US, he or she will need to obtain a visa. In most cases, this will be either an O or a P visa. (There are almost no instances when a foreign artist can legally perform in the US on a visitor visa—regardless of whether or not the artist is paid or tickets are sold.) In order to obtain the necessary visa, someone in the US—such as the presenter or the artist’s US-based manager or agent—will need to file a visa petition on the artist’s behalf with United States Citizenship and Immigration Services (USCIS). The petition consists of the forms, evidence, and documents required for USCIS to “approve” the artist for the requested visa. As you may imagine, USCIS also requires a petition fee. Once approved, USICS will issue an “approval notice.” The artist will then use this “approval notice” to apply for the actual visa at a US Consulate. This will involve more forms…and fees.

Depending on where the artist is from, and how much they earn, they may or may not have to pay taxes on money that they earn in the US. With some exceptions, all artists who perform in the US are subject to 30% withholding from their gross engagement fees. Then, the artist is then required to file a tax return (just like you and I), declare all payments and withholdings, claim any applicable deductions and exemptions, and seek either a full or partial refund. Alternatively, an artist can apply to the IRS in advance of his or her performance and seek a withholding deduction. As you may imagine, all withholding is reported to the IRS on a form. The artist will also need to obtain either a social security number or a taxpayer identification number. This, too, involves forms.

While this can all seem overwhelming, the good news is that everything you need to know is contained in a website: artistsfromabroad.org. Produced by the League of American Orchestras and Association of Performing Arts Presenters, and authored by FTM Arts Law, artistsfromabroad.org is the most complete and up-to-date online resource for engaging foreign guest artists and non-US arts professionals, and includes essential guidance, forms, sample documents, and useful links. Even better—the entire website has recently been fully updated, redesigned, and re-launched, making it even easier to find the information performing arts organizations and artist managers need to successfully navigate the U.S. visa and tax procedures required when engaging international artists for performances in the U.S.

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For additional information and resources on this and other legal and business issues for the performing arts, visit ftmartslaw-pc.com.

To ask your own question, write to lawanddisorder@musicalamerica.org.

All questions on any topic related to legal and business issues will be welcome. However, please post only general questions or hypotheticals. FTM Arts Law reserves the right to alter, edit or, amend questions to focus on specific issues or to avoid names, circumstances, or any information that could be used to identify or embarrass a specific individual or organization. All questions will be posted anonymously.

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THE OFFICIAL DISCLAIMER:

THIS IS NOT LEGAL ADVICE!

The purpose of this blog is to provide general advice and guidance, not legal advice. Please consult with an attorney familiar with your specific circumstances, facts, challenges, medications, psychiatric disorders, past-lives, karmic debt, and anything else that may impact your situation before drawing any conclusions, deciding upon a course of action, sending a nasty email, filing a lawsuit, or doing anything rash!

Dresdener Musikfestspiele pay Tribute to Eastern Europe

Tuesday, May 29th, 2012

By Rebecca Schmid

The theme of this year’s Dresdener Musikfestspiele, “Herz Europas” (the Heart of Europe), inventively returns the East German city to its roots as a thriving cultural hub. While today’s united Germany is roiled by the end of the ‘Merkozy’ era and Eurobond controversy, the emphasis of the festival (May 15-June 3) on central European repertoire and the cultural proximity of Dresden to the former Hapsburg Empire in effect harks back to a time when the arts served as a better common currency than any fiscal pact. As the Intendant and cellist Jan Vogler pointed out in a discussion, no other part of the world has produced a more influential body of composers than Eastern Europe. Vogler, who took over the festival in 2009, has turned a once provincial institution into an international attraction boasting a roster of coveted artists and ensembles. At the same time, he strives in his programming to strike a balance between the local love of native tradition and a more outward-looking approach. While last year’s theme, “Stars of Asia,” must have seemed positively exotic for the conservative ‘baroque’ city, Vogler—who spends most of the year in New York—hopes to provide a kind of ‘double-window’ from Dresden into international trends and vice versa.

The city of former East Germany has received a face lift in recent times, from the reconstruction of the Frauenkirche in 2005 (sixty years after the Protestant church was bombed to the ground) to Daniel Liebeskind’s provocative redesign to the Museum of Military History—a wedge of concrete and steel that slices through the traditional architecture—last year. Boxy post-war buildings line the outskirts of the shell-shocked city while fancy new hotels abut the cobblestone streets of the city’s small but opulent center, where the rebuilt Semperoper stands as a monument to the heyday of late German Romanticism (the original 19th-century building premiered works by Strauss and Wagner). The resident orchestra, the Staatskapelle Dresden, has already cemented its relationship with the incoming Music Director Christian Thielemann—who, according to Vogler, may have filled Karajan’s shoes as a leading conductor for many in Germany, unfortunate political allusions aside.

Thielemann with the Staatskapelle Dresden (c)Matthias Creutziger.

The program notes to a performance of Bruckner’s Eighth Symphony, presented as a co-production of the Staatskapelle and the festival, go as far as to compare the collaboration to a fated marriage, with the symphony acting as testimony. While a couple of my colleagues from the Music Critics Association of North America found the performance lacking a sense of arch at the expense of attention to dynamic detail, it is hard to deny the authenticity Thielemann brings to this music, with its triumphant Wagnerian brass and inner torment. Performing a 1939 edition that melds Bruckner’s original score with a modified version he penned between 1887 and 1890, the young Karajan kept the orchestra flowing like a well-oiled machine, with the Staatskapelle’s strings providing a full-bodied sound reminiscent of the Vienna Philharmonic. As a tuba solo hovered over a rising string motive in the final movement Feierlich, nicht schnell (a passage not included in the original score), history seemed to stand still.

To be sure, Dresden cannot as easily rest on its laurels as the long established Salzburg or Bayreuth festivals, yet the former imperial city of Saxony boasts its own lineage of noble interest in the arts. Princess Amalie, daughter of Prince Maximillian and the Princess of Parma, wrote a total of twelve operas based on her own libretti between 1816 and 1835, the last of which—La Casa Disabitata—was retrieved from an archive in Moscow with rights to a single unstaged performance at a 17th-century Lusthaus in Dresden’s Großer Garten this year. The grounds remain largely untended and the salon unrestored, yet the faded glory provided a fitting context for this mock opera buffa involving an orphan, Annetta, who is given shelter in a vacant house owned by the nobleman Don Raimondo where the poor poet Eutichio has secretly taken refuge. In the end, Raimondo and Annetta are finally able to acknowledge a mutual crush, while Eutichio and his wife Sinforosa also overcome their differences.

The plot is somewhat half-baked, and the music can be succinctly described as a rehashed Mozartean farce with shades of Cimarosa and Rossini. Amalie’s attempt to extend the formulaic final coda may reveal a poor grasp of dramatic tension, but at least she had the good taste to resist the lure of courtly indolence by immersing herself in the Mozart-Da Ponte masterpieces. Eutichio even breaks out into a meta-dialogue between Don Giovanni and the Commendatore before Annetta bursts in with her new keys while the poet waves a plastic pistol in his defense. As Eutichio, Matthias Henneberg was a bit of the sore thumb in a cast of otherwise budding young singers as he struggled to tailor his mature bass to the small resonant space. The lyric soprano Anja Zügner gave a stand-out performance as Annetta; Tehila Nini Goldstein (Sinforosa), Allen Boxer (Callisto, the house caretaker) and Ilhun Jung (Raimondo) also displayed fine musicianship to accompaniment by the Dresdner Kapellsolisten under Helmut Branny.

Just around the bend from the grassy promenades of the Großer Garten sits the monumental ‘Gläsener Manufaktur,’ a largely transparent glass and steel complex erected in 2002 that serves not only as a Volkswagon production plant but an event space. On a small stage beneath suspended half-built sedans with their engine parts exposed (call it factory chic), violiniste du jour Patricia Kopatchinskaja joined with both her parents and two other friends for an evening of gypsy-inspired music from Bartok to Ravel. The contrast of her father’s 120-year-old cimbalom with the industrial surroundings and the faint sound of a machine whirring (apparently an air-conditioner to counteract the heat produced in manufacture) was somewhat jarring for this listener, and Kopatchinskaja’s correction to the program notes that this music should not be considered ‘coffee house’ fare despite the fact that she hopes we can all drink coffee through the economic crisis only drove home the irony, but her ensemble’s spirited, authentic musicianship eventually created a world of its own, culminating in an encore of the full quintet performing to the Balkan dance melody “Hora Stacato.”

Back in the center of town a few days earlier, Steven Devine conducted the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment and English tenor Ian Bostridge in an all-Bach program at the Frauenkirche. The acoustics of the church were a bit too fractious for the clear textures of the period ensemble—a colleague noted an approximately four-second reverb—yet the musicians increasingly settled into the space with their signature elegance. Bostridge, opening with a dedication to Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau, gave a tender account of the cantata “Ich habe genug,” although the transcription for tenor did not always flatter his instrument. His timbre found a better match in an aria from the cantata “Lass, Fürstin, lass noch einen Strahl” in which he also revealed impeccable breath control. As no festival would be complete without educational activities, Kristian Järvi was busy rehearsing his Baltic Youth Orchestra together with the MDR Symphony, where he will take over as music director next season. The young musicians, joined by a few professional members, displayed great potential in a performance of Mahler’s Bach Suite at the city’s event space “Messe Dresden,” followed by the MDR in a clean but sorely rushed interpretation of Beethoven’s Eighth Symphony.

Vogler, upholding his commitment to diverse programming, joined Valery Gergiev and the Marinsky Orchestra for his first performance of Honegger’s Cello Concerto, an approximately 16-minute gem that weaves together expressive neo-Romantic lyricism, shades of Gerschwin, and early twentieth-century angst. Vogler shaped the cantilenas expertly and nailed the fast runs of the final movement. Despite the sharply accented style of the Marinsky, Gergiev provided deferential accompaniment, and the music’s precise architecture emerged gracefully. As an encore, Vogler offered a movement from Bach’s Cello Suite in C-major, the lower range of his instrument singing with particular clarity of expression. The concerto was flanked by a somewhat clunky reading of Bartok’s “Miraculous Mandarin” (many noted that Gergiev’s nose never left the score) and Strauss’ “Ein Heldenleben,” which vacillated between the brash and the serene. The orchestra silenced all criticism in an encore of Lyadov’s “The Enchanted Lake,” creating a pianissimo as rich and placid as is earthly possible.

The Dresdener Musikfestspiele has tapped a wealth of potential with a new festival orchestra joining players from top period ensembles such as the Academy of Ancient Music, Concentus Musicus Wien and Il Giardino Armonico, which premiered under Ivor Bolton just after I’d made my way back to Berlin. Vogler also let on that Britten’s centenary will receive some deserved attention next year (the Semperoper has no plans to the effect), including the “War Requiem” with Andris Nelsons and the Birmingham Symphony. Dresden can of course also boast its share of extra-musical attractions, which will surely continue to work to the festival’s advantage. The Alte Gemälde Galerie boasts striking paintings of an intact city by the Venetian artist Canaletto, a sizeable collection of Dutch masters and just launched an exhibit with Raphael’s “Sistine Madonna” at its centerpiece. The local wine industry, despite its northern location, produces a Gold Riesling on par with Alsatian vineyards. As it happens, the Herald Tribune ran a travel story last week about Dresden’s move away from its communist past (always a newsworthy bit) and toward a vibrant cultural life: perhaps the Elbe is indeed bringing in fresh wind again.

Seeing Dance (and Bullfights) in Spain

Monday, May 28th, 2012

By Rachel Straus

While the New York Times paints Spain as a country on the verge of collapse, the view from the streets of Madrid and Salamanca is quite different.

Yes, the restaurants are not as full, but that cannot be said of the bars. At Madrid’s Plaza de Toros de Las Ventas on May 27, the stadium was packed. Though the bullfights are a far cry from ballet or experimental dance, the posture of the toreadors (bullfighters) are inescapably similar to the stance of flamenco dancers: the arch of the back, the puff of the torso, the legs pressed together. The men even rise to relevé (the tips of their toes) before running toward the bull with flags that end in sharp knives. The overall experience is a bloody one. But unless you’re a vegetarian, you can’t escape being complicit in violence toward animals. Humans kill them for sustenance. Cows and chickens generally live lives of abject misery, and the process by which they come to urban tables is hidden. With the bullfight, the ritual reenactment of slaughter is raised to the level of art. The enormous animals are given names, have carefuly recorded family trees, and when they are about five years old, they fight for their lives to the accompaniment of live music. In rare cases, when one bull outsmarts a dozen gorgeously costumed men, in 15 to 20 minutes of fighting, the president of Las Ventas grants the animal its freedom. This winner returns to the countryside to grow old in privileged circumstances.

Plaza de Toros de Las Ventas

Compared to Madrid’s tickets prices for the bullfights (30 to 80 Euros), Salamanca’s Obra Social de Caja hosts performances and lectures about Spanish culture for practically nothing (3 Euros). Salamanca, an ancient city northwest of Madid that boasts the nation’s oldest university, isn’t known for its flamenco. But on May 24, the singer Sebastián Heredia Santiago performed for more than an hour at el Teatro de la Caja. Accompanied by guitarist Juan Antonio Muñoz, Santiago, known as the Cancanilla (the trickster) of Málaga, carried on an impromptu conversation with his fans in the audience. “Eres simpatico” (you are nice), shouted one lady. Cancanilla returned the compliment and thus began the love-in. Cancanilla, who has performed in the companies of José Greco and Lola Flores, and who looks like an amiable bullfrog because of the width of his throat, possesses a booming, plaintive voice that needs no amplification. He teased the audience, saying that he was going to get up and dance flamenco. I doubted the veracity of his statement, but Cancanilla kept his promise. What was astonishing was that this trickster can approximate the same nuanced power with his legs as he can with his lungs.

Sebastián Heredia Santiago

Unlike in the United States, Germany, and France, modern dance never flourished in Spain. That, however, does not mean that it doesn’t exist. On May 25, at Madrid’s El Huerto Espacio Escénico, modern dancer and choreographer Manuel Badás presented his one-man show Sebastián. The French-trained artist skillfully connects Saint Sebastian’s martyrdom with gay culture’s punishment of the body in its quest for physical perfection. Though it was not touched upon, gay men began pumping iron and obsessing about their abdominal muscles in increasing numbers with the AIDS crisis. Looking physically invulnerable, and sexy, was the community’s defense in the face of so many deaths.

Manuel Badás

In Sebastián, Badás creates a montage of stereotypical homosexual images: the drag queen with his five-inch heels, the cover model in white underwear, and the regular guy pouring over glossy male magazines, whose pages are riddled with advertisements for beauty pills and creams. Again and again, Badás transformed back into the martyr Sebastian. His stomach contracted as though struck by an arrow. His arms fluttered behind his back, like he was manacled and he was sprouting wings. He swirled across the floor, as though transcending rough terrain. Throughout, the music ricocheted between the past and present: from baroque hymns to classic American rock and jazz. Biblical quotes about Sebastian’s martyrdom were projected and Badás’ dancing became increasingly kinetic. In the last section, a recording of Billy Holiday singing Strange Fruit was heard. The young, lithe Badás lined up his glossy magazines in the shape of a cross. He tilted his body over a chair, becoming a strangely suspended fruit, one that has been martyred by today’s media-saturated forces.

George Bizet’s Carmen is a well-worn score. Flamenco companies, opera troupes, and car commercials have taken a bite out of the 1875 composition by the French (not Spanish) composer. On May 26 at the Teatro Nuevo Apolo, The Ballet Flamenco de Madrid ratcheted up the cliches associated with the Carmen story.

Veronica Cantos

Veronica Santos performed the title role. Choreographer Sara Lezana tipped her hat to Broadway by having her female flamenco dancers bare a lot more leg (and crotch) than is traditionally seen. Carmen is a tale of the gypsy femme fatale, who plays men against each other, has a taste for violence, and whose life ends tragically. She is stabbed to death by her soldier-lover Don Jose (Saulo Sanchez G). Instead of lamenting the vulgar aspects of this production (which could take up several pages), it’s best to mention what was worthwhile. Sanchez danced with elegance and emotional commitment. The decision to interpolate Bizet’s music with live flamenco, performed by a quartet of musicians (including a flutist), helped return Carmen back to Spain, the home of this wonderful art form.

Notes from Brightest Africa

Thursday, May 24th, 2012

by Sedgwick Clark

I’m sitting on the porch of the Tinga Game Preserve in Kruger National Wildlife Park watching a herd of nearly 20 elephants feed down by the river. One of the kids is on his back rolling around in the dust, just as our bichons do in Central Park’s grass.

Shortly before, he was marching along behind his mother (I presume), followed by another adult elephant and another child—large, small, large, small. A pretty picture, and hard to take one’s eyes away. An hour ago they were to the left of the porch. Suddenly they were startled by something and stampeded wildly—but with surprising grace—to the right about 30 feet in front of us, braying and hooting vociferously. If only I had had our video camera poised!

Yesterday afternoon we were out in the bush with a guide and sited three giraffes, a white rhino, a rare black rhino, and a hippo, as well as several elephants and impala—the latter being as ubiquitous as deer in the Hamptons. This evening we saw a cheetah and a spotted leopard, as well as many elephants, baboons, and impala again. We heard lions roaring in the distance, but we still haven’t seen one. We have one more day . . . .

Peggy Kane petting a cheetah

Last Friday we visited the Hout Bay Music Project in Cape Town, the small music school for disadvantaged students I mentioned in last week’s blog. The students’ families have come to the city in search of a job, and they live in hastily built shacks of corrugated metal and found materials. The kids’ instruments are hardly more substantial. The school is run by Leane Dollman, a woman who is not paid but has raised money to keep the school going. The school teaches primarily strings and percussion, but also song and dance, and the kids put on such a routine for us when we arrived. Later, the teacher led a short concert of string arrangements for us. Amidst tuning up, a young cellist played Smetana’s Moldau. I walked over to him and told him it was one of my favorite pieces and that he had good tone. He beamed. He was a very serious young man, as well as one of the best dressed of the kids, and I encouraged him to continue. I’ll bet a little Yo-Yo Ma would help.

We came bearing gifts: 30 CDs of chamber and solo string music, sheet music from G. Schirmer, t-shirts from the New York Philharmonic, and baseball caps commorating Lincoln Center’s 50th year. Jonathan Rosenbloom, of Time Inc., had brought several issues of “Time for Kids,” which immediately captured the students’ interest. But when we tried to play some CDs, their stereo was found to be so wanting that we bought them a new Pioneer system from a local dealer. In response to my blog last week, Eric Gewirtz of Boosey & Hawkes wrote to me asking what his company could do. We’ll try to work something out. When one sees the power of the arts and how lives can be so affected, it’s impossible not to become involved.

Peter Clark with an owl perched on his hand.

The Freelancer’s Elevator Speech

Thursday, May 24th, 2012

By: Edna Landau

To ask a question, please write Ask Edna.

Dear Edna:

I am a freelancer who makes a career by juggling a number of projects in the music business. I am pleased to have reached a level of success that has me in demand for a truly diverse range of activities, including publicity, media consulting, concert production, promotional writing, audio production and freelance journalism. On several occasions recently, I’ve been introduced by way of a halting description, ending in: “what DO you do?” Clearly I need to be honing my “elevator speech”, but with so many different kinds of projects on my plate, it is difficult to do so, and even I wind up stuttering when trying to describe myself in a short phrase. Can you suggest ways that I can “brand” myself more cohesively, while maintaining career diversity? –W.N.

Dear W.N.:

Thank you for submitting such an excellent question. There is no doubt that people whose jobs are focused in one clear direction have the easiest time presenting their elevator speech, though they will want to say something special about themselves that distinguishes them from others. For example: I am an epidemiologist, working at the Centers for Disease Control in Atlanta and, over the years, I have been gratified to play a significant role in preventing the spread of potentially dangerous diseases to epidemic proportions. Your elevator speech is probably not your biggest problem, since an elevator ride in a medium to high building would give you a chance to mention all of the things you cited above. You could possibly say: I work in the arts and wear various hats at different times, including journalist, media consultant, publicist and concert producer. I’m very fortunate to enjoy that variety in my work and it brings me in contact with many fascinating people.

OK. Now comes the hard part – the brief introduction. If you know the profession of the person you are meeting, you might choose to emphasize one or two of the roles you play, above others. If you are meeting the editor of a magazine, you’d clearly want them to know that you are a freelance journalist and be less concerned that they learn about your concert production expertise. If you are meeting a young aspiring and ambitious artist, you’d want them to know of your experience in publicity, as well as audio and concert production. If you know nothing about the person you are meeting, I’d suggest you say: “I work in the arts as a publicist, media consultant and freelance journalist.” This doesn’t cover everything you do but subsequent conversation is likely to give you a chance to provide greater detail. There is very little you can do to ensure that colleagues and friends will introduce you the way you ideally would like to be presented. For example, it is very common that when introducing me, people say: This is Edna Landau. She used to run IMG Artists. Well, I haven’t done that for about five years but my reputation is based on that period in my life so it’s a comfortable answer for most people. I usually respond by saying that I’m very proud of my long tenure at IMG Artists but that I am now drawing great satisfaction from working in the areas of career advice and individual and institutional arts consulting. Anyone who possesses a variety of skills and is able to put them to use successfully should be very proud of their accomplishments. In the end, what you say in an initial introduction can be less important than how you say it. If your answer is imbued with genuine enthusiasm and pride, rather than with awkwardness over how exactly to categorize yourself, you are likely to gain the opportunity to fill in the blanks as a further conversation unfolds.

To ask a question, please write Ask Edna.

© Edna Landau 2012

Winds of Change at the Komische Oper: ‘Xerxes’ and ‘The Seven Deadly Sins’

Wednesday, May 23rd, 2012

By Rebecca Schmid

The Komische Oper champions a populist approach through German-language productions and contemporary stage concepts that for some opera goers is synonymous with the most vexing of Regietheater. While the emphasis of the company’s founder Walter Felsenstein on living theater above musical purity remains a locally prized virtue, the house’s attendance rate sank from an already low 61% to 59% last year while that of the Deutsche Oper increased by 11%. The critical reception to recent premieres such as Calixto Bieto’s “16 and older” Der Freischütz and Thilo Reinhardt’s phallus-ridden Salome has also been mostly unfavorable.

Yet as the adventurous tenure of Intendant Andreas Homoki draws to a close, the house may be headed in a new direction. The incoming Barrie Kosky, an Australian native who recently won England’s Laurence Olivier prize, has not only set out to change the ‘German-only’ policy starting next season but evoke the East Berlin house’s roots in operetta and the legacy of 1920s liberal culture, taking his own ethnic identity and sexual orientation as a case in point (“Will the ostentatious denotation ‘I’m Australian, Jewish and gay’ suffice as the motto for an Intendant?” quipped Manuel Brug in Die Welt).

As fate would have it, the last premiere of the Homoki regime leaves Kosky with fertile ground to usher in a new ethos. Handel’s Xerxes, staged by the coveted Norwegian director Stefan Herheim in his Komische Oper debut, has won understandably glowing reviews across the board. Herheim’s production, seem May 19, takes a deceptively historical approach by setting the opera in its 1738 premiere at the Kings Theater, but the action jumps back and forth between painted naturalist sets  (Heike Scheele) and an 18th-century backstage by virtue of a revolving platform, dissolving any sense of convention. The director calls the concept a “baroque Muppet show” in the program notes, playing with the existential levels of theater within theater and theater within life. At the end of the opera, the platform revolves fully to reveal the towering black walls of the Komische Oper’s actual backstage, with the chorus having shed their elaborate period costumes (Gesine Völlm) for their daily dress.

 
 
 
 
A baroque feast of sets and costumes in Herheim’s ‘Xerxes’ @Forster/Komische Oper

Xerxes is a court intrigue set in 5th-century Persia about a rivalry between King Xerxes and his brother Arsamene for the hand of Romilda, daughter of the prince Ariodate. Meanwhile, Romilda’s sister Atlanta vies for Arsamene. Handel’s version is based on an anonymous revision of a libretto by Silvio Stampiglia. The original cast included the castrato Caffarelli in the title role and other stars of the day such as the soprano Elisabeth du Parc, known as ‘La Francescina,’ in the role of Romilda. Disguised ruses and falsely assigned love letters provide for some chaotic buffo moments, while the opera explores the more serious themes of true love, jealousy and fate. In this sense, as the program notes point out, the opera can be considered a kind of dramma giocoso—a genre which Mozart and Da Ponte would ultimately make immortal—although officially it is still opera seria.

Herheim takes a strictly comic approach, poking fun at the singular arrogance of the title character in both his role as a narcissistic king and as a castrato. Xerxes (Stella Doufexis) sings the opening aria “Ombra mai fu” and parts of other numbers in Italian while the rest of the opera, with the exception of one aria by Arsamene, is sung in German. When the king spits out “Perfido!” (Traitor!) to Prince Ariodate upon learning that he has married Romilda to Arsamene, the production effectively mocks the passionate drama of Italian opera. Xerxes not only calls the shots onstage but within the Komische Oper itself, descending into the pit with the crucial line “what you consider love is often only deception and appearance,” holding up a hand to stop the conductor (Konrad Jünghanel) before bringing the house to darkness with a snap.

Stella Doufexis entertaining the audience as Xerxes @Forster/Komische Oper

Other gestures are just for the sake of having some laughs. During Xerxes’ aria’ “Più che penso alle fiamme del core,” the set is dismantled to reveal cabaret-style lights reading “Xerxes” which are then rearranged to read “Sex Rex.” Doufexis points to the first word as she sings of her passionate flames, an adolescent touch that nevertheless seemed to delight the audience. The third scene features oversized dancing sheep who, while amusing at first, grow wearing as they began to interrupt the music with their ‘baas.’ Still, Völlm’s costumes are so authentic and well crafted—from these creatures to the gilded suits and towering plumed caps of Xerxes and his army to the chorus’ Rafael-like cherub fare—that it was easy to forgive the occasional relapse into directorial indulgence.

The cast was generally strong throughout, delivering punch lines with persuasive comic timing while maintaining high musical standards. Doufexis anchored the production with a velvety timbre, skillful dynamic nuance and a keen sense of Herheim’s highly complex stage concept. When she stepped toward the audience at the end of the opera, eyes widened as if emerging from a time machine, it was hard to suspend one’s disbelief. The mezzo Karolina Gumos was a charismatic, rich-voiced Arsamene, nailing her coloratura in the aria “Amor, tiranno Amor” in which she begs Xerxes to soften. The Swiss soprano Brigitte Geller brought the right touch of beguiling charm to the role of Romilda with a ripe lyric timbre, and Julia Giebel wielded her slightly underpowered soubrette to satisfactory effect as the pesky Atlanta. Katarina Bradic made for an even-voiced, desperate Amastre, and Dimitry Ivashchenko brought a resonant bass to the role of Ariodate. As the servant Elviro, the bass Hagen Matzeit made a stand-out performance in falsetto voice as a disguised flower vendor. Junghänel, an early music specialist, led the orchestra of the Komische Oper in an incisive but muscular account whose charged baroque expression at times compromised a sense of flowing legato, instead underscoring the sharp accents of the German language.

The Seven Deadly Sins

Kosky could hardly have chosen a stronger statement of his vision for the Komische Oper than with his new production of Kurt Weill’s Seven Deadly Sins, which premiered February 12 and returned this month. To be sure, his 2011 production of Rusalka featured gutted sea creatures and a German libretto that was too much to stomach for this reader, who once learned Czech and trekked all the way to Prague to hear Dvorak in its authentic setting (call me a purist). But with his latest undertaking, seen May 20, Kosky reveals an aesthetic restraint that is the antithesis of the slap-happy stagings which dominate the Berlin house. Weill’s Seven Deadly Sins was conceived with Bertold Brecht for Balanchine’s Paris company ‘Les Ballets 1933’ as a ballet chanté for the composer’s two-time wife Lotte Lenya and the dancer wife of the British impresario Edward James. The score seamlessly weaves together popular song, cantata, and dance music, while the text refers to a single protagonist, Anna, who has been sent on a voyage throughout the U.S. to earn money for a small house her family is building in Louisiana. She is accompanied by a hedonistic alter ego whom she refers to as her sister—also named Anna—as she dances and turns tricks along the way, learning the consequences of pride, lust, avarice and other sins. The work conveys an even more direct critique of capitalism than The Three Penny Opera, with a prescient understanding of the difficulties that the writers would face upon their imminent exile from Germany.

As a prelude to the work, Kosky inserts a selection of seven Weill songs ranging from Berlin im Licht (1938) to Wie lange noch? (1944). Dagmar Manzel, a well-known German actress, emerges slowly from behind closed curtains to join her pianist (Frank Schulte) in a straight cabaret delivery in which she is lit by a single spotlight. As if to foreshadow the desperation Kosky creates in Seven Deadly Sins, Manzel desperately tugs at the curtains during Youkali, a tango that describes a fictitious utopia, only to pull them back entirely to reveal the orchestra for the central work. As Manzel recounts her travels from Memphis to San Francisco with mounting hysteria, occasionally breaking out into deliberately ungraceful ballet, the male quartet representing Anna’s family sings from darkened balcony boxes above the stage. The most powerful tableau emerges in Los Angeles, where Manzel flap dances with a frozen expression of agony. While guilt-ridden allusions to the horrors of World War Two have become standard fare in Germany, Kosky’s understated, expressionist touch was shockingly relevant in the city whose avant-garde culture once helped breed one of the most powerful artistic collaborations in history.

Dagmar Manzel in Weill's 'Seven Deadly Sins' @Monika Rittershaus/Komische Oper

Kosky does go a bit over the top when Anna shrieks hysterically above her family’s moralist incantations, and the invented a capella epilogue about a drowned woman was far too morbid for the spirit of this resigned yet hopeful satire, not to mention that Manzel’s voice was audibly spent by this point. The singer otherwise gave a gripping performance with her smoky voice, generous presence and dry dramatic detachment. That she may be considered slightly too old for the role is justified by Kosky’s concept which casts the entire journey as a memory; in the end Manzel pinches the flesh on her arms as if unaware of how she had aged. The male quartet formed a musically solid ensemble, and Joska Lehtinen brought a ringing, slightly scolding tenor to the father’s aria about Anna’s greed. The orchestra provided fine accompaniment under Kristiina Poska, its Germanic sound culture providing weight to Weill’s forward-looking yet rigorous harmonic development and wistful melodies.

Am I Obligated To Accept Unsolicited Emails from Managers?

Wednesday, May 23rd, 2012

By Brian Taylor Goldstein

Dear FTM Arts Law:

I am the executive director of a well-established regional symphony orchestra. As with most orchestras, I frequently receive emails from managers and agents asking me to consider their artists. After a number of emails from the same manager all within the same week, I wrote and told them that I was aware of their roster and asked to be removed from their email list. He wrote back and said that because our orchestra was a 501(c)(3) and also received state funding, we were obligated by law to accept his emails. He also said that because we were non-profit, these were not “commercial” emails and we had no right to refuse his emails. Is this true?

First, someone needs to remind this manager that desperation is never a good sales technique! No, in addition to being generally obnoxious, the manager is wrong on every possible level upon which there is to be wrong in this instance.

The law the manager is attempting to reference is the CAN-SPAM act, a federal law that governs the sending of unsolicited commercial emails. This law states that anyone who receives an unsolicited commercial email has the right to request that he or she be removed from future mailings and places a number specific requirements on those who send such emails, including requiring the sender to provide an opt-out mechanism, a physical address, and to remove anyone who requests to be removed from the mailing list. It covers all commercial messages, which the law defines as “any electronic mail message the primary purpose of which is the commercial advertisement or promotion of a commercial product or service.” The law makes no exceptions for tax-exempt 501(c)(3) organizations. Under the CAN-SPAM act, anytime you ask someone to “buy” something or spend money, its considered “commercial.” Sending emails to promote an artist or an ensemble is just as “commercial” as sending emails soliciting donations or promoting a concert, a fundraising event, or any program where tickets are sold. As a result, any organization, for profit or non-profit, that sends such emails and fails to provide an opt-out mechanism and/or to remove someone from its email list upon request can be prosecuted for violating CAN-SPAM.

In your situation, you are the recipient of an unsolicited commercial email. The fact that you are a 501(c)(3) organization or an organization that receives public funds doesn’t alter the fact that the manager sent you an unsolicited email asking you to engage or hire an artist…and that makes it an unsolicited “commercial” email. Thus, in this case, the CAN-SPAM act protects you, not the manager, and you have every right to demand that you be removed from the manager’s email list. If he fails to comply with your request, the manager would be in violation of the CAN-SPAM act and you could report him to the Federal Trade Commission…or, at least, you would have every right to avoid his booth at APAP!

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For additional information and resources on this and other legal and business issues for the performing arts, visit ftmartslaw-pc.com.

To ask your own question, write to lawanddisorder@musicalamerica.org.

All questions on any topic related to legal and business issues will be welcome. However, please post only general questions or hypotheticals. FTM Arts Law reserves the right to alter, edit or, amend questions to focus on specific issues or to avoid names, circumstances, or any information that could be used to identify or embarrass a specific individual or organization. All questions will be posted anonymously.

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THE OFFICIAL DISCLAIMER:

THIS IS NOT LEGAL ADVICE!

The purpose of this blog is to provide general advice and guidance, not legal advice. Please consult with an attorney familiar with your specific circumstances, facts, challenges, medications, psychiatric disorders, past-lives, karmic debt, and anything else that may impact your situation before drawing any conclusions, deciding upon a course of action, sending a nasty email, filing a lawsuit, or doing anything rash!

Hillary Hahn and Hauschka join Forces on ‘Silfra’; Riccardo Chailly and the Gewandhausorchester Leipzig

Friday, May 18th, 2012

By Rebecca Schmid

Hillary Hahn’s taste for the unconventional has in recent years taken her career onto a trajectory unlike that of most violin prodigies. Last October, she appeared on NPR’s Tiny Desk Concert Series improvising to traditional American melodies that inspired the works of Charles Ives, donning a fedora for the occasion. She maintains an active web presence, blogging and twittering about her life on the road, perplexing critics last year when she posted a Skype interview with a fish on YouTube.

Her latest project is a collaboration with the German master of the prepared piano, Volker Bertelmann (aka Hauschka). After playing together at the behest of folk singer Tom Brosseau two years ago in San Francisco, the duo began meeting regularly to improvise and ultimately decided to consolidate their endeavors on a recording with Deutsche Grammophon. The recently-released Silfra, named after an island outside Reykjavik that lies just between the European and American continents, is a collection of non-notated works documented at a studio in Iceland.

“We had a hunch,” Hahn said to the audience during a DG “Yellow Lounge “ concert at Berlin’s Club Asphalt on May 10. “We played, then we recorded just improvising together, and now we’re on tour to capture that spirit.” Their next stops include Los Angeles, Seattle, New York and Boston.

Hahn greets the audience at the DG Yellow Lounge © Stefan Höderath

The violinist, wearing a polka-dot dress and matching headpiece, seemed to revel in the freedom of entering the percussive and melodic layers of Haushka’s sound world. From my seat on a short wall at the far corner of the stage (the small basement venue was packed to the point that oxygen felt scarce), I spied wooden sticks, duct tape and tin foil inside the grand piano. Hahn responded with an intuitive, relaxed air to the whirring textures emanating from the instrument, from brief melodic gestures to full-thrust harmonics, yet her immaculate technique was always present. As she admits in an interview with local magazine concerti, she remains a perfectionist.

While several tracks on Silfra feature an atmospheric, minimalist blend that may not captivate those after ground-breaking developments in contemporary classical music, the album reveals a range of subtle ventures. One of the most effective works, at least for this listener, is fearlessly lyrical and neo-Romantic. “Ashes,” inspired by the eruption of Grimsvotn just a few days into recording, opens with a violin melody innocently inquiring into the underlying forces of nature against simple harmonic accompaniment. “No one walked outside. The birds went silent,” the musicians write in the liner notes. “The only sounds we heard were the one we made.”

The pieces all last under ten minutes with the exception of “Godot,” a slow exploration of Hauschka’s raw industrial sounds complimented by whinnying and other timbral exploration on the violin. The musicians write that the track is hypnotic in surround sound, which I haven’t been able to test yet. “Halo of Honey,” dedicated to Brosseau, traps the violin in a ghostly netherworld against crinkling and muted, distorted piano. The final track “Rift,” referring to the “deepness and isolation” of the island of Silfra, creates a sense of suspended time and nostalgia before launching into a mesmerizing minimalist tapestry. Hahn and Hauschka open the album with the last track they recorded, “Stillness,” which hovers in the upper registers of the violin and piano only to fleet by like an afterthought. Such free collaborations are rare in the classical music establishment, and while it may take an artist of Hahn’s stature to find the backing of a label such as Deutsche Grammophon, it could set a precedent for other soloists itching to explore another side of their creativity.

Mahler and Ravel with the Gewandhaus Orchester

A spring tour brought Riccardo Chailly and the Gewandhausorchester Leipzig to the Konzerthaus this week, a rare occasion to hear this fine orchestra in the German capital. For a moment I lost my orientation, as I’ve never heard a guest orchestra on the stage of the East Berlin hall, and the Leipzigers’ incisive string playing made me do a double-take. The program, seen May 15, opened with Ravel’s Piano Concerto in G-major featuring Hélène Grimaud, elegant as ever in velvet pants and a fitted silver jacket. The French pianist gave a poignant, introspective account of the nocturne-like passage that opens the middle Adagio movement while Chailly stood with his eyes closed on the podium. He subsequently summoned graceful entrances from the winds, particularly in the flute and English horn solos, while the piano continued as if trapped in its own world. Ravel’s brief use of bi-tonality in this movement is one of its most captivating moments, and Grimaud did not wander from a tender but focused pianissimo.

The opening Allegro, peppered with the quote of a falling melody from Gerschwin’s Rhapsody in Blue and jazz rhythms, received a vigorous if not muscular reading from the orchestra. Grimaud indulged in impressionist textures that, while evocative of the spirit in which Ravel synthesized the influences of his time into a personal blend, threatened to submerge the piano’s inner melodies in a bleeding wash of colors, such as through the passage of Spanish-inflected triolas in the section Meno vivo. While Grimaud’s ability to subsume emotion contributes strongly to her appeal, a bit more Sitzfleisch would have made the performance stronger. By contrast, she revealed a razor-sharp technique through the rapid chordal spans and arpeggiations of the final Presto, whose tempo Chailly kept particularly fleet. As a colleague noted, the brass could barely keep up speed.

Mahler’s Fourth Symphony, also in G-major, created a more serene atmosphere for the second half of the concert. Following the Mahlerthon that occupied programming during the composer’s centennial last season, this work feels as commonplace as a Mozart Symphony, yet it is hard to resist Mahler’s delicious harmonies and searing Lebensschmerz, particularly in the inner Adagio. The Gewandhausorchester plays with a directness that nevertheless conveyed a sense of inner torment beneath the vital sheen of sleigh bells and nods to Viennese Classicism in the opening movement. The strings produced an even, warm pianissimo.

Chailly created unbearable tension through his use of ritardando in the Ruhevoll (Poco adagio) movement, steering through tearful laughter before the gates opened for Das Himmlische Leben, a song from the Knaben Wunderhorn cycle. Soprano Christina Landshamer’s youthful, clear timbre captured the childish delight Mahler explicitly instructed, yet there was no sense of the subtle irony that emerges in a more dramatically nuanced performance. While she and Chailly gave clear emphasis to the final stanza’s critical line “Eleven thousand virgins/allow themselves to dance,” the delivery was almost too reverential, failing to provide a window into Mahler’s ambivalent spirituality. An elderly couple to my left was following the text with a nearly pious air, not sure whether to give in to the movement’s mordant satire.