Busy Week

April 1st, 2014

Valery Gergiev

By ANDREW POWELL
Published: April 1, 2014

MUNICH — In every book on time management, there is a chapter about giving your work to someone else. Delegation, they say, is a virtue: an assistant exercises new authority and the delegator accomplishes other tasks, perhaps in other places. Maybe in another country. Or two.

Take Valery Gergiev, incoming Chefdirigent of the Munich Philharmonic. He delegates like a pro, arming répétiteurs and conducting assistants — many of them from St Petersburg’s Mariinsky Theater — with preparatory guidelines to deliver “Gergiev” interpretations on a minimum of Gergiev time. This way, the Russian’s branded, in-person artistry reaches more audiences in more cities. Call it the productization of conducting.

Last December, leading up to and including an MPhil program here, Gergiev conducted a choral concert, three operas, and four Stravinsky works, with three different orchestras in three countries, all in one week.

It was quite a feat. It was also, inevitably, a week of headaches, as the controlling artist jumped between scores on a near-daily basis. Featured: a postponement, a cancellation, anxious last-minute rehearsing, an opera company’s embarrassment, and, in Munich at least, shallow musical results.

The conductor’s devotion to the weightiest project of the week, in Warsaw, offers a clue about how much of what audiences hear in a “Gergiev” performance reflects his work.

Teatr Wielki had hired the Moscow-born conductor for a new production of a Tchaikovsky-Bartók double bill premiering on Dec. 13. Directed by Mariusz Treliński, the film noir versions of Iolanta and A kékszakállú herceg vára were a joint venture with the Metropolitan Opera, where they arrive next January under Guess Who’s baton.

The assignment came with hurdles, given that the opera company’s orchestra was little accustomed to Gergiev’s ways, the principal singers were mostly new to their roles, the compositional styles of the two pieces were unrelated, and the bill involved the Russian and Hungarian languages in performance by mostly Polish musicians.

All this considered, not delegating might have seemed the better part of valor. Indeed, if hearsay is accurate, the week was originally planned at a slightly less frenetic level of activity: just the Warsaw double bill and (on Dec. 18) the Stravinsky pieces in Munich.

The parties understood that of the Warsaw rehearsals Gergiev would lead only the final dress, on Dec. 11. Beyond the premiere, the hearsay has it that he was also to conduct the second performance, on Dec. 15, before heading to Munich. For the remaining dates of the brief run, Dec. 17 and 19, the Poles had engaged a second maestro, young Bassem Akiki.

The hearsay is credible because the non-updated website of Akiki, as recently as today (April 1, 2014), lists the two dates alone, and, when asked about the original slate for Dec. 15, Teatr Wielki did not deny the suggestion that the Russian conductor was at first scheduled.

But Gergiev gave Warsaw much less of himself even than this modest arrangement (Dec. 11, 13 and 15), and in Munich he appeared tired, possibly weakening the Dec. 18 concert. He conducted Teatr Wielki’s Dec. 13 premiere, and he flew to Munich on Dec. 16 to prepare the Stravinsky, only not from Warsaw.

“Unexpected circumstances did not allow maestro Gergiev to lead” the final dress rehearsal on Dec. 11, stated Teatr Wielki in an email response to questions (confirming a separate part of the hearsay), and so it was postponed to Dec. 12, when Gergiev was available. Besides distress for the cast, this change, according to the hearsay at least, caused the cancellation of an unrelated concert on Dec. 12.

The cast affected was: Tatiana Monogarova as Iolanta, Sergei Skorokhodov as Vodyemon, Mikolaj Zalasiński as Robyert, Alexei Tanovitski as Ryenye, Nadja Michael as Judit, and Gidon Saks as Kékszakállú.

“It is absolutely not customary for Teatr Wielki to schedule dress rehearsals one day before a premiere,” wrote the company.

Nor did Gergiev conduct the second performance of Treliński’s double bill. That fell to Akiki, even as company managers were trumpeting the participation of the celebrated conductor.

Instead he bolted, apparently with permission, for St Petersburg and rapid-switch programs at his own Mariinsky Theater: on Dec. 14 the Verdi Requiem and on Dec. 15 La traviata, both necessarily rehearsed by other hands. It was from the Russian city that he flew here.

Warsaw’s astoundingly patient company provided context for Gergiev’s arrangement, pointing out that “the process of rehearsing” (before the final dress) was the responsibility of a Gergiev assistant who “was in constant contact with” the boss. And, in a sign that any change of plan had been agreed: “Maestro Gergiev fulfilled his duties for Teatr Wielki.”

Meanwhile in Munich, normally communicative spokespeople grew taciturn, conceivably out of embarrassment about what they sensed was artistic dissemblance. Still unanswered by the publicly run MPhil are these easy questions:

— How many hours of rehearsal took place for the Dec. 18 Stravinsky program? How many were with Gergiev?

— What does the MPhil normally expect of a guest conductor, in number of days with the musicians and number of rehearsals?

Then again, the Munich Philharmonic has a long stake in this conductor (until 2020) and a bigger problem. He has become hot-to-handle due to his support for Vladimir Putin and his seeming confusion of homosexuality with pedophilia. On Dec. 17, amid Stravinsky rehearsals, he was grappling with testy questions at a news conference about these matters.

And the Dec. 18 Stravinsky concert? It brought fine musicianship with more than a hint of interpretive emptiness. Being a guest here, Gergiev can get away with such perceptions of disengagement, but he must steel himself for heightened subscriber scrutiny once he takes over.

Photo © Alexander Shapunov

Related posts:
Christie Revisits Médée
Gergiev, Munich’s Mistake
Maestro, 62, Outruns Players
Gergiev Undissuaded
Stravinsky On Autopilot

Tallis Scholars Premiere Nyman Work

April 1st, 2014

In addition to the “Forty Years of Renaissance Polyphony” advertised for this Saturday’s appearance by the Tallis Scholars at Midtown Manhattan’s Church of St. Mary the Virgin, the group will be premiering a new work by Michael Nyman. Two Sonnets of Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz is tailor made for the current Tallis forces, with ten-part divisi forming arcing lines pitted against punctuated declamation. In honor of the Tallis Scholar’s fortieth anniversary, it was commissioned by Miller Theatre, who sponsors the early music series at Church of St. Mary the Virgin. Also on the program are works by Tallis, Desprez, John Sheppard, and a mass by Cipriano de Rore.

Tallis Scholars
Saturday, April 5 at 8 PM
Church of St. Mary the Virgin
More info here

The DSOB breaks the Mold with Roussel and Honegger

April 1st, 2014

untitledAHBy Rebecca Schmid

Given the range of works across the classical repertoire, one wonders how the same Brahms and Beethoven warhorses continue to dominate programming, especially in the midst of constant debate about how to keep the art form lively. The Deutsches Symphonie-Orchester Berlin manages to prove an exception. An evening of Honegger, Franck, Roussel and Ravel under guest conductor Stéphane Denève on March 29 at the Philharmonie made this particularly clear.

César Franck’s Symphonic Variations for Piano and Orchestra (1886) uses a hybrid structure that hovers somewhere between concerto, symphony and variations’ cycle. The pianist and orchestra exchange short episodes of dialogue, with the soloist becoming more and more virtuosic. The influence of Chopin seems evident in recitative-like melodies that relegate the orchestra to the background.

The young pianist Bertrand Chamayou was an ideal champion of the music, delivering a gentle, passionate but clean interpretation in both soulful slow phrasing and racy passages in which he stayed perfectly in sync with the orchestra while Denève coaxed well-calibrated, swelling phrases. As an encore, Chamayou, who possesses a refreshingly assured but non-pretentious stage presence, offered a performance of Debussy’s Claire de Lune in which he inflected the melodies with the right touch of jazziness while also bathing them in a wash of pastels.

Opening the evening was Arthur Honegger’s Symphonie liturgique (1946), a work whose style might seem archaic against modernist developments which have claimed more social relevance. The score layers textures in strict, mostly tonal counterpoint to create a spiritual journey in protest of the “barbarity, stupidity, suffering, mechanization and bureaucracy” which emerged under Nazi occupation.

An angry Dies irae of frenetic strings and threatening brass gives way to a meditative Adagio, De profundis clamavi, whose aching, slow moving harmonies might recall Samuel Barber’s Adagio for Strings. The final Andante, Dona nobis pacem, builds into march-like, dissonant protest until the orchestra lets out a collective scream. After a lamenting cello emerges out of the dust, a flute descends out of the sky to deliver peace. The work’s overtly Christian message may verge on the kitschy, but it is composed with tremendous skill and emotional depth. The DSOB gave an earnest performance under guest conductor Stéphane Denève.

Albert’s Roussel’s Third Symphony (1930), another example of early twentieth-century music which struggles to find its place in the canon, proved an interesting companion in terms of orchestration, opening with an explosive, staccato brass and string motive that gives way to a plaintive flute melody. The work was commissioned by Serge Kossewitsky for the Boston Symphony and premiered to rave reviews.

With colourful instrumentation for the entire orchestra, the piece remains vibrant from beginning to end without becoming superficial. The second slow movement creates reflective pools of tragedy out of which, once again, a flute summons the orchestra out of its melancholy. The inner Vivace is a tour de force of festive gaiety, while the final movement—with its twittering winds and marching brass—is not without a hint of farce, evoking shades of Prokofiev and Stravinsky, but in a thoroughly idiomatic context. The DSOB played with high energy and clean attacks.

Closing the evening was the only familiar work on the program, Maurice Ravel’s Bolero (1928). Denève built tension gracefully as the work’s circular melody was tossed through the wind instruments—including saxophone—before consuming the entire orchestra in a throbbing dance. The piece was of course premiered not in straight concert but to choreography by Bronislava Nikinska at the Paris National Opera. In a better world, we would see all the great dance works of this era—by Debussy, Stravinsky, and even Strauss—performed as they were intended rather to a motionless, half-empty hall.

For more by Rebecca Schmid, visit rebeccaschmid.info

Here’s Whoopi!

March 28th, 2014

By Sedgwick Clark

Just as New York Philharmonic audiences had gotten used to hearing Alec Baldwin’s subdued tones asking them to turn off their cell phones, they were surprised to hear Bryn Terfel and Emma Thompson making a Sweeney-themed plea before the orchestra’s five performances of Stephen Sondheim’s Sweeney Todd (3/5-8). And then, before Alan Gilbert conducted an all-Carl Nielsen concert the following week, none other than Whoopi Goldberg urged us to check those noisy cell phones.

These seemingly innocent changes in the Philharmonic’s anti-cell phone crusade made me wonder if Baldwin had become too hot to handle? After all, in a lengthy, testy, scatological tirade in New York magazine (February 24, 2014), he explained in no uncertain terms why he was saying “good-bye to public life” in the city in which he has lived since 1979, citing predatory paparazzi, loathsome, prevaricating, and despicable media, media hounding of his wife, and endangerment of his baby daughter, while also admitting that some of his own comments and behavior may have brought on some of his problems. Los Angeles, with its gated communities to segregate movie stars from their fans and the media, which he once scorned, was looking more attractive than it once did.

Baldwin, an avid classical music lover and supporter of the arts, has been host of the Philharmonic’s national broadcasts for five years, when he was riding high and winning Emmy awards for his role on 30 Rock, but his recent problems made me curious to know if he was including the Philharmonic in the “public life” he was threatening to leave. So I called Katherine E. Johnson, the orchestra’s director of media and public relations, to get the skinny:

“Whoopi Goldberg was elected to the New York Philharmonic’s Board of Directors in January 2013. In addition to recording our new cell phone announcements—which will play in rotation with those recorded by our radio host, Alec Baldwin—we are exploring other ways in which she might be involved with the Philharmonic’s activities that align with her interests, such as in the area of education.”

 

Why Are Opera Companies Tanking?

Musicalamerica.com reported on March 20 that the San Diego Opera will close its doors on June 30 after 28 consecutive seasons of balanced budgets. The piece continued with other companies that have closed their doors in recent years (and MA.com editor Susan Elliott sent me others that date back further): Opera Hamilton, Ontario (January 2014), the New York City Opera (2013), Opera San Antonio (2012), Opera Boston (2011), Lyric Opera of San Diego (2011), Cleveland Opera (2010), Spokane Opera (2010), Connecticut Opera (Hartford, 2009), the Baltimore Opera (2009) and Opera Pacific (Orange County, 2008). Yesterday’s website (3/26) reports that Indianapolis Opera has just announced cancellation of its fourth and final opera of the season, Britten’s Albert Herring, due to slow sales. Rather ominous.

Undoubtedly, the reasons are complex, including the proliferation of arts organizations such as the National Endowment of the Arts in 1965. Also, opera on video became a contender in the ’80s. One incredible success story shines out, however: The Met in HD, which began in its 2006-07 season. Concurrent with the Met’s HD success is the fall-off of its own live-opera ticket sales. Some opera-aficionado friends in New York tell me they often prefer seeing Met productions in HD—and not just due to higher ticket prices.

 

Looking Forward

My week’s scheduled concerts (8:00 p.m. unless otherwise noted):

3/28 Carnegie Hall. Kronos Quartet and Friends; Wu Man, pipa; Pannonia Quartet; Face the Music Quartet; Brooklyn Youth Chorus. Additional guest artists tba. Works by Terry Riley, Pelle Gudmundsen-Holmgreen, Philip Glass, Aleksandra Vrebalov, and more. 40th Anniversary Celebration.

3/29 NJPAC at 8:30. Israel Philharmonic/Gianandrea Noseda. Ravel: Daphnis et Chloé, Suite No. 2; Ma Mère l’oye, suite. Fauré: Pelléas et Mélisande, suite. Berlioz: Symphonie fantastique.

4/3 Avery Fisher Hall at 7:30. New York Philharmonic/Pablo Heras-Casado; Peter Serkin, piano. Britten: Four Sea Interludes from Peter Grimes. Bartók: Piano Concerto No. 3. Shostakovich: Symphony No. 10.

Stravinsky On Autopilot

March 27th, 2014

Members of the Munich Philharmonic at work

By ANDREW POWELL
Published: March 27, 2014

MUNICH — In eight days in May 2004, as a kind of audition for the post of principal conductor, Valery Gergiev drove the London Symphony Orchestra brilliantly, if roughly, through recorded concerts of all of Prokofiev’s symphonies. Acclaim ensued, he got the job, and two years later the hasty, also electrifying and poignant, cycle rolled out on Philips CDs.

Now that Gergiev is headed here as Chefdirigent of the Munich Philharmonic, his attention is on Stravinsky. Only this time he already has the job, from Sept. 2015. And while Gergiev can be effective in this composer’s music too, he isn’t always, as Sedgwick Clark recently noted.

Munich’s Stravinsky cycle, if that is what it turns out to be, got off to a sad start Dec. 18. On the program, at the orchestra’s crooked Gasteig home, four French-name works: L’oiseau de feu (1910), Symphonies d’instruments à vent (1920), and the cantatas Le roi des étoiles (1912) and Les noces (1923).

Technically it was a good night. The orchestra and the pianists played well, the singing had discipline. Microphones presumably were turned on.

Artistically, though, nothing much happened, above all in the popular ballet score, which coasted vacantly and sounded headless, as if the orchestra members had crafted an interpretation by themselves.

The inspired Les noces should have been a treat, with four Mariinsky singers on hand (soprano Irina Vasilieva, mezzo-soprano Olga Savova, tenor Alexander Timchenko and bass Ilya Bannik), but Gergiev operated merely as traffic cop. Visceral bite in the score counted for little, despite robust contributions from Vasilieva and Savova and the energy of pianists Sergei Babayan, Dmitri Levkovich, Marina Radiushina and Andrius Zlabys, plus able percussionists. Adding to the woe, the cantata’s torrent of words blurred in the wide, fan-shaped auditorium.

Although perfectly intoned, the Symphonies suffered from blunting of essential rhythmic impulses. Only the brief King of the Stars (Звездоликий, actually Star Face) brought satisfaction, its alien harmonies and odd temporal properties carefully managed.

But who knows? Recordings may paint a more enthralling, or at any rate clearer, picture of this first regular-program collaboration of the Munich Philharmonic and the boss-to-be since the January 2013 announcement of his hire. And there is always hope for the cycle’s second installment.

The concert, not incidentally, was beset by unnerving circumstance. A testy news conference the previous afternoon (Dec. 17); a human rights protest in the form of a Putin-Gergiev pantomime on the Gasteig’s forecourt, watched by hundreds of arriving concertgoers; the unrealized menace of heckling during the music; daytime pressure from City of Munich politicians; and, not least, a week of frenzy for the maestro before he even landed here — all amount to another discussion.

Photo © Wild und Leise

Related posts:
Maestro, 62, Outruns Players
Trifonov’s Rach 3 Cocktail
Gergiev, Munich’s Mistake
Antonini Works Alcina’s Magic
Jansons Turns 75

Does An Artist Need An Original Visa Approval Notice?

March 27th, 2014

By Brian Taylor Goldstein, Esq.   

Dear Law and Disorder:

Does a conductor who has been approved for an O-1 visa need to bring the original approval notice to the consulate or will a color scan of the original work? We have been getting conflicting information, including a representative at the consulate telling us on the phone that he would also need the original to enter the US. We are also concerned because when we try to schedule his appointment at the consulate we keep getting locked out of the system. Is this because we need the original or a different approval number than the one we have? 

Like any large institution, the various branches and agencies of our government are populated both with dedicated, intelligent employees who do exemplary jobs under stressful and demanding circumstances as well as with lower level invertebrates who slithered in searching for food and mysteriously found themselves employed. Sadly, you appear to have been given information from a fruit fly.

The conductor’s visa petition needs to be approved by the time of his visa appointment, but he does NOT need to bring the original approval notice with him. When a petition is filed, USCIS will issue a petition receipt notice. The receipt notice will contain a receipt number—beginning with “EAC” if it was filed at the Vermont Service Center or beginning with “WAC” if it was filed with the California Service Center.” You can use that receipt number to schedule an appointment at the consulate.

Once the petition is approved, USCIS will issue an approval notice. (As I mentioned in a recent post, be prepared to wait longer for approval notices from both services centers these days. Vermont Service Center is currently taking 30 – 60 days for standard processing of O and P petitions!!!!) The approval notice will contain the same number as the receipt number. At the time of the interview, the Consular Office will use the receipt/approval number to confirm that the petition has been approved. While, in ages past, the consulates used to require the physical approval notice, that system was replaced over 5 years ago with an on-line verification system whereby the consulate can confirm an approval using the receipt/approval number and accessing the USCIS petition approval verification database. However, be forewarned that it can take up to three days between the date of the approval and the approval itself being entered into the database. Bringing a copy of the physical approval notice will not help bridge this gap. Under the new system, the consulate is not allowed to issue a visa until they have confirmed approval in the database. In other words, the physical approval notice has been rendered obsolete.

Although we continue to recommend that an artist bring a copy of the approval notice (or the original, if available) to the appointment for reference, neither the original nor a color print out of the scanned original is necessary. While, occasionally, the folks manning the switchboards and appointment lines of some consulates tell people to bring the original approval notice, the US State Department has repeatedly re-affirmed that this is not mandatory and the Consular Officers themselves are well aware of this. As for being told that the original is required in order to enter the US, that, too, is pure misinformation.

If you are experiencing an error in the on-line system, it has nothing to do with your approval notice. Rather, it is due to the fact that government contracts for software design and maintenance are too often meted out to the lowest bidder. I suspect you are the victim of a software glitch on the consulate’s website, which is not in the least uncommon. Just wait and keep trying.

_________________________________________________________________

For additional information and resources on this and other GG-logo_for-twitterlegal and business issues for the performing arts, visit ggartslaw.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. GG 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.

__________________________________________________________________

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!

 

Michael Gordon’s Rushes

March 26th, 2014

This week, Cantaloupe released Rushes, Michael Gordon’s latest recording. An album length piece for multiple bassoons, it layers ostinatos of repeated notes into buzzing micro-polyphonic textures. It is much like Timber, his recent work for percussionists playing wooden slats, but, of course, the permutation of pitches are more accentuated by Rushes’ bassoons.

You can hear the recording this week on WQXR; it is their album of the week. Or go to hear it live tonight in Boston, on Friday in Philadelphia, or at Montclair State University in Montclair, New Jersey on Saturday. (details below)

 

Tufts’ Granoff Music Center (Boston) – 3/26
The Icebox at Crane Arts (Philly) – 3/28
Montclair State Univ. (Montclair, NJ) – 3/29

MKO Powers Up

March 24th, 2014

British conductor Clement Power, 33, with the Münchener Kammerorchester

By ANDREW POWELL
Published: March 24, 2014

MUNICH — Few conductors can jump into a Berg-Zemlinsky-Honegger program on three days’ notice and lead it fluently without change. Enter Clement Power (33), a gray-haired Londoner, for the Münchener Kammerorchester’s March 13 subscription concert here at the Prinz-Regenten-Theater. The newcomer showed an easy rapport with the players (6-5-4-4-2 strings) and technical mastery, resulting in persuasive readings of four challenging scores.

He fostered a warm sound, with precise articulation in Berg’s Drei Stücke aus der Lyrischen Suite (1928) and clear, glowing layers in Honegger’s D-Major String Symphony (1941). The MKO responded passionately in the outer two Berg “pieces” and sustained rhythmic exactness in the forwards-then-backwards Allegro misterioso. The Honegger resounded with such refinement and allure that it was hard to channel the composer’s morose wartime outlook. Ideas swirled vigorously, swooned more than mourned. Rupprecht Drees’s trumpet made a happily unobtrusive entry in the last movement, and the chorale tune soared to rapturous applause.

In between, Sandrine Piau applied her elegant, bright lyric soprano to Zemlinsky’s lush Maiblumen blühten überall (1898) and Berg’s Sieben frühe Lieder (1908), both heard in arrangements, the Berg being Reinbert de Leeuw’s pungent reduction. Although sensitive to the German texts, however, she proved overparted.

String for string, the MKO may be Munich’s most accomplished orchestra. An ensemble of two dozen musicians founded in 1950, it has scant competition yet plays at consistently high levels in enterprising programs (often resulting in enterprising CDs on ECM Records). Its seasons in the Hellenistic-Romantic opulence of the Prinz-Regenten-Theater (1901), an architectural cousin of Bayreuth’s Festspielhaus (1875), are rounded out by chamber performances in the Jugendstil Schauspielhaus (also 1901) on ritzy-retail Maximilianstraße and by much touring. The ensemble favors Classical, Modern and new scores, augmenting itself as need be. In marketing, the Münchener Kammerorchester’s acronym usually stands alone, in a neat insignia that reduces its K to a less-than sign: less than a symphony orchestra, perhaps.

Chief conductor Alexander Liebreich, originally listed for March 13, enjoys a reputation for versatility but has compromised his career by numerous visits since 2002 to North Korea. Indeed the MKO itself ventured to Pyongyang in 2012 under a do-good Goethe Institute program, explained by Liebreich to the BBC. Anyway the players must like venturing beyond safe Germany: a trip to drug cartel paradise Medellín comes on a tour next month. Call them adventurous.

Clement Power, meanwhile, remains barely known. While pretty-boy maestros in his age group win coveted awards and take up rural British opera company and New York chamber orchestra jobs, this prodigiously gifted artist works apparently without representation.

Photo © Münchener Kammerorchester

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Dudamel and Gilbert Score

March 21st, 2014

By Sedgwick Clark 

I’ve heard nearly every one of Gustavo Dudamel’s New York concerts. At first I had my quibbles, but I always walked out of the hall with a smile. His music-making made me feel good to be alive.

In two concerts at Avery Fisher Hall this past weekend, his Los Angeles Philharmonic played better for him than ever. The strings had greater strength and unanimity, and the conductor unerringly balanced cross rhythms and accompaniment figures in the winds and brass to keep textures moving. The solo horn, Andrew Bain, played with eloquence and warmth in his many solos, and Joseph Pereira, a student of the New York Philharmonic’s late, great timpanist Roland Kohloff, provided dynamism and rhythmic punctuation to passages that in other hands too often turn soggy.

Leading off the LA’s first concert was John Corigliano’s 1988 Symphony No. 1. While not exactly new, its brand of dissonant tonality fits well into today’s current style. It memorializes three of the composer’s friends who succumbed to AIDS and received a slashing, uncompromising performance. It should be played every year. Dudamel’s commitment to contemporary composers is genuine, and he programs new works on nearly all his LA programs. After intermission came Tchaikovsky’s Fifth Symphony. I never thought I could love it again, but Dudamel proved me wrong.

In the second concert, wispy, little Yuja Wang played Rachmaninoff’s Third Piano Concerto with her usual mind-boggling virtuosity, and she played it uncut, as is usual these days. A curious line on the program page said, “Ms. Wang will perform cadenzas by Rachmaninoff.” Well, of course. But which of the two he composed for the first movement did she play—the lighter, rather mercurial one favored by the composer in his recording or the heavy, chordal alternative? Wang chose the first, lighter version. Dudamel’s accompaniment in the Rachmaninoff was ideal, sticking to her fleet fingerwork like flypaper through every più vivo and meno mosso. Composers usually know best, and I’ve always wondered if all the pianists who indulge in ostentatious “expressive” emphases, rubati, ritards, etc. did so because they couldn’t play the piece as written, in tempo—but Wang can and did, and the performance built naturally, with no eccentricities.

After intermission, Dudamel conducted an affectionate Brahms’s Second Symphony, which in its moderately brisk tempos and lovely singing lines reminded me of the 1945 San Francisco recording by Pierre Monteux, which is how I came to know the work on my parents’ 78s. Dudamel even allowed himself a few subtle tenutos, which he will probably expunge as time goes by but which made me smile on each appearance.

Alan Gilbert’s Nielsen “Inextinguishable”

Alan Gilbert and the New York Philharmonic are in the process of recording the symphony cycle of Denmark’s greatest composer, Carl Nielsen (1865-1931), for the Danish label, DaCapo. So far only one CD, recorded in concert and containing the Second and Third symphonies, has been released, but last week the orchestra performed an all-Nielsen concert that will constitute the second CD: Helios Overture, Op. 17; Symphony No. 1, Op. 7; Symphony No. 4 (“The Inextinguishable”), Op. 29.

It’s hard to beat Nielsen’s Fourth for concert hall drama, with its dueling timpani placed on either sides of the orchestra. This was Gilbert’s and the orchestra’s finest Nielsen performance so far, on Friday afternoon, March 14. Clearly this was a master “take,” and the conductor could take chances on Saturday evening—such as when Nielsen indicates “Glorioso” twice in the score, and Gilbert’s response struck me as cautious.

Leonard Bernstein placed the timpani on the front of the stage when he performed the symphony with the Philharmonic in 1970, but it was disappointingly ponderous interpretively and thin sonically on LP. The CD remix vastly improved the sound, but it still couldn’t compete with the supercharged Martinon/Chicago recording on RCA. Gilbert followed the composer in placing the timp at the back of the stage. Mike placement will take care of any recording concerns. I feel secure in predicting that the Gilbert will be considered one of the best Fourths upon its release.

Gilbert’s performance of the First Symphony, however, seemed less certain—perhaps like the composer, who took four years to write it. Gilbert links the symphony to Brahms, but I hear Bruckner in the final movement.

The third CD, to be recorded at the October 1-3 concerts in the fall, will include Symphony No. 5 and Symphony No. 6, presumably to be released by the anniversary of the composer’s 150th birthday in 2015.

Looking forward

My week’s scheduled concerts (8:00 p.m. unless otherwise noted):

3/26 Zankel Hall at 7:30. Ensemble ACJW. Ives: The Unanswered Question. John Adams: Shaker Loops. David Lang: pierced. Copland: Appalachian Spring.

3/27 Avery Fisher Hall at 7:30. New York Philharmonic/Gustavo Dudamel. Vivier: Orion. Bruckner: Symphony No. 9.

A Modern Man: Israel Galvan in “La Curva”

March 20th, 2014

By Rachel Straus

The Flamenco dancer Israel Galván juts his hand up in the air and calls, “Taxi!” flicks his fingers against the underside of his teeth, and pounds white flour—all in volcanically dynamic rhythms. Far from being a traditionalist, Galván, who hails from a flamenco family in Seville, isn’t making waves internationally just because he distorts flamenco tradition. He’s a figure of admiration because his dance works push that tradition beyond its staid formulas, which include spectacle-like presentations featuring exoticism, tragic otherness, and hyper masculinity.

Photo by Kevin Yatarola

In “La Curva” (The Curve, 2011), seen March 16 at the Michael Schimmel Center for the Arts at Pace University, Galván transforms flamenco dancing’s noble male image. The experience is like watching a painter create a cubist portrait. Except in this case what Galván presents is not a fractured face, but a full-blooded person, with his androgynous, grotesque, buffoonish, and madman characteristics, as well as his regal, virile side.

On the wide stage reminiscent of a factory removed of its objects, Galván sallies between stage right, where the young, avant-garde pianist Sylvie Courvoisier plays prepared piano, and stage left, where the middle age musician El Bobote and singer Inés Bacán are seated at a table. El Bobote comes to represent the father as he raps his hands in counterpoint to Galván’s rhythms while shouting salvos of approval. Meanwhile Bacán could be understood as the mother figure: her voice is as all encompassing as her Venus of Willemdorf body.

Photo by Kevin Yatarola

Photo by Kevin Yatarola

In the middle of the 80-minute work, Galván hammers his feet atop the rickety table in front of his “parents” while Courvoiser plays the opening bars of Igor Stravinsky’s “Rite of Spring.” Undoubtedly, Galván is thinking of the dancer-choreographer (and rebel) Vaslav Nijinsky. He refused to employ ballets steps in his dance work to Stravinsky’s music. A kindred spirit for Galván, Nijinsky distorted the ballet dancers’ bodies into totem-esque shapes in “Rite” and critics railed at this grotesquery. “Rite” also caused a riot. In “La Curva,” the only real violence occurs when Galván topples, on four separate occasions, a stack of chairs. They crash to the ground, but none present seem to care. It’s hard to cause a scandal in the theater these days.

Photo by Kevin Yatarola

Photo by Kevin Yatarola

In the program notes, the great flamenco dancer Vicente Escudero (1892-1980) is mentioned as a source of inspiration for “La Curva.” Of particular interest to Galván, it says, was Escudero’s 1924 Paris performance, where the performer played a part of a banjo as if it was a cajón (the Afro-Peruvian instrument currently used in most flamenco performances). In a similar fashion, Galván hangs a folded chair over his chest and raps out a rhythm. The result is all too Duchamp. But the mention of Escudero in the program notes appears to have a far greater significance than this one lost 1924 performance. Most flamenco fans associate Escudero with his ten principles on male flamenco dancing. They are worth quoting:

Dance in a masculine style.

Sobriety.

Turn the wrist with the fingers closed.

Limited movement of the hips.

Dance in a calm manner, without vanity.

Harmony of feet, arms and head.

Be beautiful, flexible and honest.

Develop an individual style and emphasis.

Dance in traditional costume.

Keep a range of sounds in the mind, don’t put nails in the boots, dance on a simple stage and don’t use accessories.

In “La Curva,” Galván flouts every single principle of Escudero’s except the call to develop an individual style. Galván repeatedly juts his hips forward à la Michael Jackson. He dances in black stretch pants and a t-shirt. He is never calm. Instead his dancing is like a cyclone, where the most inner curve resembles warp speed. Rather than striving for harmony, Galván employs physical distortion and isolation.

An iconoclast, Galván is one that thankfully has a cause. He refuses to be imprisoned by the noble, male, flamenco dancing image. While it was carefully erected to celebrate the dignity of the gypsy, he sees no reason for keeping it. Those awkwardly stacked chairs, which crash to the floor with a swift pull in “La Curva,” symbolize Galván’s thinking.