Appealing Promotional Videos

April 11th, 2013

By: Edna Landau

To ask a question, please write Ask Edna.

Dear Edna:

First, thanks for your blog. I recommend it to folks all the time! And here’s my latest question: I was wondering if you could give us your perspective on what makes an effective musician’s publicity video – for both soloists and ensembles? I’ve been seeing such a variety of approaches, lengths and production values, it makes me wonder what you’re recommending these days. Thanks.

Angela Beeching, Longtime Edna fan and author, “Beyond Talent”

Dear Angela:

It is always a pleasure and an honor to hear from you. Thanks for the compliment on my blog. You bring up a very interesting topic, because there is no clear definition of what a typical publicity video might be. Many artists don’t have them at all. They choose to upload performances onto YouTube, or include them on their website as part of a media page, and that satisfies most of the presenters who are primarily interested in how they play, sing, or conduct in a variety of repertoire. If they have good videos of themselves engaging in outreach activities, those will often be posted as well. Finally, if they have clearance to post interview footage, they will include it in the mix. The latter gives a better indication of what they are like as communicators in a non-performing situation and acquaint the viewer with other aspects of their life that are important to them. It is still pretty uncommon for artists and ensembles to hire people to create a promotional video for them, partly because of the cost. It is far more common for artists who have recording affiliations to have videos that relate to a particular recording project, which are produced by the record company. Such videos might make you want to run out and buy the album, but you may not learn too much about the artist.

An ideal promotional video, in my opinion, will feature the artist speaking and performing, and may be embellished by some background footage and a narrative that weaves everything together. It will be joyful and energetic, or insightful and moving in a way that compels you to watch until the very end. It will give a good idea of what makes the artist tick and reflect the passion and commitment that fuel their artistry. A length of three to seven minutes seems to work well. Some artists who may not have had the means to hire someone to produce a video from scratch have obtained the rights to video footage from interviews and edited it down, primarily showing them talking, but not the interviewer. The more successful ones include performance samples or the artist playing in the background. I found two that I particularly liked, which are both of violinists: Vilde Frang and Madalyn Parnas. Ms. Frang’s video was posted by her general management, Askonas Holt, who call it a “video biography”. It features the young violinist rehearsing the Bruch Concerto No. 1 with the Philharmonia Orchestra and Jakob Hrusa, interspersed with comments by Ms. Frang, seemingly excerpted from an interview, which include reflections about the importance of being inspired and the broad variety of potential sources for inspiration, all articulated in a soft but compelling way that draws the viewer in. Ms. Frang’s apparent wisdom beyond her years, and her beautiful playing, convinced me over the course of the seven minute video that I must be sure not to miss her next appearance in New York. I was introduced to violinist Madalyn Parnas by Portrait of a Violinist: Madalyn Parnas, which was created by Steve Torres, a friend who she met at Indiana University. He loved the idea of tagging along with her on the day of a concert in New York and decided to interview her and make the video as an independent project. This video has some background playing by Ms. Parnas and some attractive glimpses of New York City, but very little actual performance footage. Still, one is captivated by Ms. Parnas as a person, right from the start of the video when she says: “From the very beginning I was passionate about music.” Her passion is palpable, as are her charm and energy. The video ends with her saying: “What a blessing to be able to make music your profession.”  In between, she speaks about the joy of working with living composers and her new recording with her sister and duo partner, Cicely, with whom she is briefly viewed in a new music performance. Madalyn comes across as genuine, modest, and extraordinarily dedicated to her craft. The bits of playing in the background reinforce the impression of a serious artist but in this video, it is the sheer force of personality that captivates the viewer.

In general, there seem to be more ensemble promotional videos than soloist ones. The majority of ensemble videos I have viewed seem to have been produced in an effort to clarify the mission and vision of groups whose names and instrumentation alone might not give a clear enough idea of their identity. One such ensemble is Time for Three, whose promotional video, only three minutes long, is chock full of energy and dynamism. It starts with them entering the stage with Christoph Eschenbach at a Philadelphia Orchestra concert and ends with a whopping quote from Sir Simon Rattle. (Other impressive quotes are also intermittently flashed on the screen.) In between, they are seen talking, performing and interacting with one another, always exuding a sense of fun. I encourage you to watch it since no description really does it justice.  Classical Jam, a hard to define chamber group whose core musicians perform on violin, viola, cello, flute and percussion, regularly collaborate with other top-notch musicians in a variety of concert formats, in which they work closely with presenters towards the important goals of community building and arts advocacy. They recently produced a video to demonstrate an interactive feature of some of their concerts, which they call the Master Jam. It begins with an explanation of who they are, and has many well-chosen images which relate to these goals and clearly demonstrate the wonderful impact that the ensemble has on its audiences. Their energy and joy are abundantly evident from the start. The background music which runs throughout the three minute video is very appealing and it ends with Classical Jam’s mission and vision statement. The group’s cellist, Wendy Law, told me that they worked with a filmmaker, Natasha Marco, who is a friend and supporter of Classical Jam. She indicated that a video of this sort might cost in the area of $1000. She also offered the following advice: “The most important tip in creating a video is to find a clear and concise narrative. We want the viewers to come away knowing a little more about who we are and WHY we do what we do. Having a great collaborator who truly understands your vision is also extremely important in creating the video.”

You didn’t ask about composer videos but I heard about one that I found most ingenious and refreshing. It features the composer Gregg Kallor playing his own “Espresso Nirvana”, which is part of a suite he wrote about a day in New York City, “A Single Noon”, inspired by an Emily Dickinson poem by that name. Whether or not you are a coffee lover, you are likely to be motivated to check out this gifted young composer and learn more about his music.  And finally, for sheer fun, I suggest you watch a marvelous little video treat produced by the Zurich Chamber Orchestra. Enjoy!

To ask a question, please write Ask Edna.

© Edna Landau 2013

Using Existing Recordings–Not So Fast!

April 10th, 2013

By Brian Taylor Goldstein, Esq.

Dear Law and Disorder:

A few weeks ago you wrote a great article about how to obtain a mechanical license when someone wants to record music. But what about using a recording that already exists? We would like to promote an upcoming concert at our venue by putting some recordings of the artist on our website. Since the artist gave us the recordings, are we ok?

Thanks…and no, you may not be ok.

Any time you want to use an existing recording of a composition, whether to put on your website, or as a soundtrack to a film or video, you will need to get permission (aka “a license)” from the composer (which often means contacting the composer’s publisher) as well as permission (aka “a license”) from the owner of the recording (which is often a record label.) That’s right, you may need to get two separate licenses! Why? Because copyright law creates a separate copyright in compositions and a separate copyright in the recording of a composition.

Just because an artist or an artist’s manager gives you a recording and gives you permission to use that recording, doesn’t mean that the artist owns the recording or has the rights to give. Even if it is a recording of the artist’s own original composition or if the composition itself is in the public domain, the artist may not own the recording. In which case, the artist cannot give you permission to use it, much less the artist’s manager.

Shortly after I posted the earlier blog you mentioned (The Mechanics of Mechanical Licenses, March 6, 2013), Peter Christ of Crystal Records Inc. (http://www.crystalrecords.com) sent me an email which exactly and accurately addressed this issue. He graciously agreed to let me post it here:

Your explanation was very clear and should help those who want to record music that is not public domain. However, it does not address the situation of a person who wants to use a recording already made, and on a record label, for their web site or their movie or other background music use. It should be made clear that the publisher needs to be contacted and ALSO the record label or other copyright owner of the recorded music.

We sometimes find out that our copyrighted recordings are being used as background music for films or on someone’s web site. This is not legal without our permission, and when it is discovered, the legal expenses can be very high for the perpetrator.

 

Some people want to do it right, and we frequently get requests for license to use our recordings for films, web, etc. We always appreciate that someone is honest and knowledgeable enough to request a license. However, in most cases, they do not realize they need a license both from the record company and from the publisher of the music. And in many cases, the music was recorded under an AFM contract and additional payment must be made through the union to the musicians on the recording. It should be pointed out that even if the music itself is public domain, the recording is most likely not, so permission from the record company, and possibly the union, is definitely needed. So the two minutes or so they want to use can get quite expensive.

Thank you for your excellent column in Musical America.

See, I don’t make this stuff up just to make your lives complicated! Bottom line, when it comes to music rights there are three rules: never assume—always ask—and know who to ask.

__________________________________________________________________

For additional information and resources on this and other legal 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!

Dudamel’s Development

April 4th, 2013

by Sedgwick Clark

Gustavo Dudamel and the Los Angeles Philharmonic – America’s hottest orchestra/conductor team – breezed through New York last week for a pair of sold-out concerts they had just performed in LA, London, Lucerne, and Paris. Dudamel is a bona fide star. Now 32, he draws a younger-than-usual audience, and cheers erupted when he walked to the podium. But nothing in his demeanor indicates that this acclaim has gone to his head; he even appears bashful about it. True to his El Sistema upbringing, his commitment to music education is unwavering, and nothing in the American publicity mill will deter it. His conducting style is understated, with minimal gestures, and when the performance ends he walks through the orchestra to single out important soloists and entire choirs. He’s one of the gang, and he respects each and every one of them. He’s got the goods, and what’s happening on that other coast should be followed with great interest by the faltering music business.

He loves contemporary and 20th-century music, and all the works he conducted in New York fit that bill. Indeed, the first of the Lincoln Center concerts (3/27) was the local premiere of a single, extraordinarily ambitious work: John Adams’s oratorio The Gospel According to the Other Mary (2011-12). Many consider Adams a great composer, an opinion I wish I could share. His new work, lasting over two and a half hours, stretched the limits of boredom as few performances I can recall – not since Carlo Maria Giulini led this same orchestra in a full-hour, headache-inducing distention of Beethoven’s Eroica at Carnegie Hall 34 years ago.

For fuller, more gentlemanly analyses of the Other Mary, read George Loomis’s report (3/29) on the Musical America Web site and Anthony Tommasini’s in the Times (3/30). But even they were quite mixed over the sprawling structure of librettist and director Peter Sellars’s amalgam of poetry. Sellars is a brilliant thinker and talker, as he demonstrated once again in a pre-concert discussion, but noble ideas do not a viable libretto make, as this team so excruciatingly demonstrated with the opera Doctor Atomic. However, my concern here is about the musical element of the piece, not the political or religious matters – or Sellars’s distracting staging – that upset some of the reviewers I googled. I simply was not emotionally engaged by the way Adams arranged the notes.

The score is structured in two parts. The first part is the longest, and except for a couple of brief Orffisms I waited in vain for memorable melodic inspiration. The second half seemed to acquire a more angular rhythmic profile, perhaps because the deadline was encroaching and the motoric wisps of Stravinsky, Orff, and even Janáček that dot Adams’s earlier works asserted themselves more readily. (Tommasini heard “recognizeable inspirations, like big-band jazz, Bach, Copland, Ives, Ravel and more . . . .”) Whatever the case, Dudamel and the Angelinos acquitted themselves brilliantly as far as I could tell, and Deutsche Grammophon recorded the work in March.

Dudamel’s second concert (3/28) began with an ugly piece called Zipangu (1980), by Canadian composer Claude Vivier. According to the program book, Vivier’s “own style synthesized many characteristics of Debussy’s and Stravinsky’s music.” Nonsense.

The real music ensued with a rather soggy rendition of Debussy’s La Mer and a detailed and expressive (or, if one didn’t like it, slow and meandering) performance of Stravinsky’s complete Firebird (1910). While I prefer the greater intensity and drama of the composer’s recorded performance, which is tighter by five minutes, there were plenty of gorgeous moments to savor throughout the score in Dudamel’s conception, from the lovely “Round dance of the princesses” to the exciting “Infernal dance of Kastchei’s subjects,” which provoked applause at its wild conclusion.

An interesting detail: Stravinsky added two snarling trombone glissandi near the end of the Infernal dance in his 1919 Suite, which is the way the Firebird music is most often performed, and he retained it in his longer 1945 Suite. Neither the complete 1910 ballet music nor the 1910 Suite versions include the glissandi, but Dudamel added them (as well as, he told me later, other scoring details from the 1919 version that I didn’t notice), and they fit just fine. Why didn’t anyone else – including the composer himself ex post facto – think of this?

Looking Forward

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

4/4 Carnegie Hall. Boston Symphony/Daniele Gatti; Anne Sofie von Otter, mezzo; Tanglewood Festival Chorus. Mahler: Symphony No. 3.

4/5 at 7:00. Metropolitan Museum. New York Philharmonic Contact Concert/Alan Gilbert; Liang Wang, oboe. Unsuk Chin: Gougalon. Poul Ruders: Oboe Concerto. Anders Hillborg: Vaporized Tivoli. Yann Robin: Backdraft.

4/8 at 7:30. Symphony Space. Cutting Edge Concerts New Music Festival. Loadbang; Kathy Supove, piano; Oleg Dubson, actor. Alexandre Lundsqui: Gutteral I and II. Douglas Gibson: Fanfare for the Common Audience. Reiko Füting: Land of Silence. Andy Ahiko: LOVE LOST LUST LONE. Victoria Bond: The Page Turner. Hanna Lash: Stoned Prince.

4/11 at 7:30. Avery Fisher Hall. New York Philharmonic/David Robertson; Pierre-Laurent Aimard, piano. Messiaen: Les Offrandes oubliées. Mozart: Concerto No. 23. Tristan Murail: Le Désenchantement du monde. Beethoven: Symphony No. 2.

Requiem aeternam

April 4th, 2013

By Rebecca Schmid
The Festtage of the Staatsoper Berlin, founded by Daniel Barenboim in 1996, is not officially an Easter Festival. But while the Berlin Philharmonic left the Philharmonie for some mountain air (taking up residence for the first time this year in Baden-Baden), the maestro— between conducting the first full cycle of the Cassiers/Bagnoli Ring production, which has unfolded between the German capital and Milan since 2010—presided over ensembles of both the Staatsoper and La Scala in two different Requiem masses.

The pianist and conductor, currently music director of both opera houses, opened Mozart’s Requiem on April 1 with W.A.’s last piano concerto, KV 595. The Staatskapelle’s rich warm, strings lent the music great strength—particularly in forte passages—while gentler nuances could have been more florid and secretive. Still, the balance with the piano was ideal in the opening Allegro. Barenboim brings a wonderful spontaneity to his performances—even if there were a couple of smudges on the keyboard—and he masters the Staatskapelle’s full-bodied sound with a firm but giving hand. The final Allegro movement, which opens deceptively with a variation of the chirping song Komm, lieber Mai, attained a mysterious quality that provided a captivating bridge to the Requiem, where Mozart could no longer take refuge in the childlike playfulness that masks a complex spectrum of emotions in other late works.

The mass, which lay unfinished on the composer’s deathbed, conveys a God-fearing sense of his own mortality. It is not until the bright E-flat major triad of the Sanctus movement, completed largely by Mozart’s contemporary Frank Xaver Süßmayer, that the light of day shines. There is nothing operatic about the work—one of several masses Mozart wrote between 1768 and 1791. As penetrating as the voices of the Staatsoper chorus were, one almost wished for a more penitent approach. Of the soloists, it was René Pape and Bernarda Fink—respectively the lower male and female voices—who captured the music’s demands for internal spirituality.

Rollando Villazòn seemed to vie for attention with his hystrionic facial expressions, so it was all the more excruciating when he switched suddenly from head to chest voice mid-entrance in Tuba Mirum. He managed to push above the ensemble later but it seems unlikely his timbre will ever recover the luster it bore pre-vocal crisis. Soprano Maria Bengtsson lent every line a pretty, creamy sound, but her inflections were often mannered. The Staatskapelle performed with increasing intensity, investing Domine Jesu Christe with an incision that drove to the heart of the music. Barenboim brought the final Lux Aeterna to a spaciously paced close.

Verdi’s Requiem, performed March 30 with the orchestra and chorus of La Scala, is unarguably the more theatrical of the two masses, emerging in the 1870s when the composer wrote no new operas. Verdi, moved to complete the work upon the death of his literary hero Alessandro Manzoni in 1873, nevertheless commented modestly that with so many Requiem Masses “there’s no point to writing one more.” He was wrong. His Dies Irae is one of the most petrifying moments in musical history, the chorus descending into a fiery pit of swirling strings and brass so demonic that even Wagner looks tame. The effect was nearly ear-numbing from my seat on the balcony above the stage, but I couldn’t miss the chorus’ homogeneity of tone and commitment to every syllable.

Daniela Barcellona gave a lesson in rich shading, carrying effortlessly across the hall in her solo of the second Dies movement. Soprano Maria Segreta, stepping in last minute for Anja Harteros, has a sweet timbre that sometimes struggled to hold its own alongside the voluminous mezzo, although it’s impossible for me to judge properly given the acoustics from my seat. They struck a placid balance in Agnus Dei. Pape was his usual serene self, and tenorissimo Fabio Sartori rounded out the ensemble with a penetrating but unpretentious tone. The musicians of La Scala made clear how deeply this music flows in their veins, phrasing with an unforced fluidity worthy of the highest Kunstreligion.

rebeccaschmid.info

Independent Contractors or Employees: What’s In A Name?

April 3rd, 2013

By Brian Taylor Goldstein, Esq.

Dear Law and Disorder:

I hire musicians to perform, with me. Are they employees or independent contractors? I do not deduct taxes from what I pay them. Should I also make them sign a contract stating that they are independent contractors?

Contrary to what many believe, the distinction between who is an independent contractor as opposed to an employee is not as simple as merely making them responsible for their own taxes (and issuing them a 1099) or making them sign a contract or other document in which they affirm that they are an independent contractor. Like many legal relationships in the arts, “titles”, while not entirely irrelevant, do not in and of themselves carry any legal significance. Instead, determining whether a hired musician (or anyone you hire to provide services for you) is an employee or an independent contract requires an analysis of both state and federal regulations.

A person is an independent contractor only when free from control and direction in the performance of their services. As independent contractors are not covered by unemployment insurance laws, labor standards, or safety and health regulations, each state, as well as the federal government, have established various “factors” concerning the nature of the relationship between the parties which are used to determine whether or not a person is an employee or an independent contractor. These factors include how a person is paid, the amount of control you have over them, where their services are performed, how their services are performed, whether or not they are part-time or full-time, and even whether or not the person you are hiring is “incorporated” as a business or merely uses a “dba” and is a sole proprietor. All factors concerning the relationship between the two parties must be taken into consideration. No one single factor is controlling, nor do all factors need to be present to establish the nature of the relationship.

Not surprisingly, the “factors” can differ from state-to-state, with some states applying a more liberal analysis than others. Whereas, in some states, its almost impossible for anyone to hire an individual as an independent contractor unless the individual is incorporated as a C-corporation, S-corporation, or a limited liability company, other states afford more discretion to the employer to determine how to classify the people they hire. And the federal government has its own set of factors and guidelines. As a result, its not uncommon for the same person to be classified as an independent contractor for federal purposes (IRS, US Department of Labor, etc.) and an employee for purposes of state unemployment law and state taxes.

While all the various factors must be considered, in almost all cases the most significant factor is whether the party contracting for the services exercises, or has the right to exercise, supervision, direction or control over someone they hire. In the case of musicians and other performers: do you hire them to show up and perform their own music in whatever manner they want? Or do you direct them? Do you require them to attend rehearsals? Can they wear whatever they want or do you require specific costumes or clothing? In general, musicians or other performers who are paid to perform and are told/directed what to perform, how to perform it, where to perform, and what to wear are almost always considered “employees”, if not by the federal government, then by most state governments.

The only way to answer your specific question is to apply the applicable state and federal factors and guidelines to your specific circumstances. However, the New York State Department of Labor actually has specific guidelines and factors for determining whether performers are employees or independent contractors. You can find them at http://www.labor.ny.gov/formsdocs/ui/ia318.17.pdf Whether or not you are in New York, this is a good place to start.

_________________________________________________________________

For additional information and resources on this and other legal 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!

A Spotlit Standout: Camille A. Brown’s “Real Cool”

March 31st, 2013

Note: This review marks the continuation of a series dedicated to showcasing the best student writing from the Dance History course I teach at The Juilliard School.

By Kyle Weiler

The Joyce Theatre program Working Women (Jan 30-Feb 3) offered an eclectic sampler of works by eight female choreographers. Like a four-course meal, the evening tendered various flavors of dance. The winning course turned out to be Camille A. Brown’s self-choreographed solo The Real Cool. Performed after intermission, this piece brilliantly combined the bitter, the sour, and the sweet.

As the curtain rose, Brown hovered downstage under a round spotlight like a damaged puppet in a gray suit and white gloves.  Her costume and makeup channeled late 19th century caricatures of black performers. According to Ken Padgett’s The History of Blackface, black minstrel performers had to present themselves in accordance with degrading stock characters, such as “Pickaninny” or the “Zip Coon.”

Brown began her solo with a series of sharp, powerful arm movements accompanied by rhythmic exhales. A larger than life silhouette of her body engulfed the cyclorama, thanks to lighting designer Burke Wilmore.  Brown’s anxiety driven movement appeared to be trapped within a single pool of light. Alluding to suffocating pressures, her upper body pulsated. She executed knee spins in a circle around the space; her forceful, flexed-footed high kicks and the rapid repetition of jumping over her own leg, as if revolving like helicopter propeller, demonstrated her fight. Unlike some of the other performances in the program, nothing about Brown’s choreography was arbitrary. The movement Brown chose carefully communicated the harrowing and poignant experience of the black minstrel performer forced to embody racist stereotypes.

Fighting back tears, Brown’s portrayal of a belittled figure was utterly convincing. She literally put on a happy face in a desperate act to entertain the crowd. At one moment, Brown flashed an overly sweet smile, which quickly disintegrated into a bitter, painful sob. A piano arrangement of “What a Wonderful World” provided a striking paradox to Brown’s broken character that struggles body and soul to maintain composure. (Ironically this tune by Bob Theile/George D. Weiss was used earlier in the evening, without much success, in the work of Carolyn Dorfman.)

As the cyclorama’s lighting transitioned from blue tones to harsh reds, Brown’s silhouette changed from a harmless reflection to a haunting presence. At this moment, Brown took off her gloves; she set them on the floor as if ridding herself of the stereotype she was forced to play. But not long after she abandoned the gloves, she pulled them back on, suggesting that her destiny – to be a humiliated, black minstrel performer – was a historical inevitability.

The Real Cool is an excerpt from Brown’s Mr. Tol E. RAncE, which will premiere April 2-6 at The Kitchen. If Brown’s short, and fascinatingly complex solo is any indication of her upcoming full-length work, than the Kitchen event is sure to be a banquet, not only for the eyes but for the spirit.

Kyle Weiler is a first year Dance Division student at The Juilliard School.

Camille A. Brown’s “The Real Cool,” Coming to The Kitchen

March 31st, 2013

Note: This review marks the continuation of a series dedicated to showcasing the best student writing from the Dance History course I teach at The Juilliard School.

By Tiare Keeno

As the curtain rose at The Joyce Theatre on February 3, the Working Women program commenced with Monica Bill Barnes “Luster (part 1: the set up).” This highly theatrical, energetic piece from 2012 warmed up the audience. The eight works that followed also held this dancer-writer’s interest. They included Janis Brenner’s extraterrestrial-like solo “Contents May Have Shifted” (2002), performed by Holly Farmer, Loni Landon’s world premiere “Rebuilding Sandcastles,” Carolyn Dorfman’s lighthearted duet “Keystone,” (2012) and Sidra Bell’s world premiere “Beyond the Edge of the Frame,” a regal ensemble work.

But one work far exceeded the others, and that was Camille A. Brown’s “The Real Cool.” The solo is part of a full-length dance “Mr. TOL E. RAncE,” which will premiere April 2-6 at The Kitchen.

Brown, a well-known African-American choreographer, has been lauded for her character-driven, highly physical dance works that combine vernacular and concert dance traditions. Judging from “The Real Cool” excerpt, Brown’s “Mr. TOL E. RAncE” will deftly explore the experiences of African-American performers today, and yesterday.

“The Real Cool” begins with Brown standing in a pool of light; her head is down, her knees are bent, and the palms of her hands are exposed to the audience. Wearing black pants, a blazer, and white gloves, Brown moves behind two magnified projections; they create a large, haunting silhouette of her figure on the cyclorama. Brandon McCune’s tune “What A Wonderful World” is used to ironic effect.  Wonderful world? Not in the least. With raw, precise, fluid movements, Brown appears like a puppet being manipulated by an outside force. Her audible rhythmic breaths evoke a sense of frustration and entrapment.

As she repeatedly slices her arms, Brown looks as if she’s trying to escape the world. Then in a blink of an eye, she resembles a clown, a black minstrel performer. She exhales miserably as though the clowning exhausts her. In these moments, Brown poetically conveys the exasperating history of the African-American performer who was made to perform stock roles, all of which were demeaning.

The brilliance of Brown’s “Real Cool” not only lies with its content but with her impassioned performance. As the piece nears the end, Brown strips off the white gloves, revealing the brown color of her hands. Then tears stream down her face.

Tiare Keeno is a first year Dance Division student at The Juilliard School.

BR Chor’s St Matthew Passion

March 28th, 2013

Peter Dijkstra

By ANDREW POWELL
Published: March 28, 2013

MUNICH — Bayerischer Rundfunk chose to film Bach’s St Matthew Passion last month in the Herkulessaal, in blue light. Drafted for the mood-enhanced venture were Karina Gauvin, Gerhild Romberger, Maximilian Schmitt and Michael Nagy, the vocal quartet; Julian Prégardien and Karl-Magnus Fredriksson as the Evangelist and Jesus; the Cathedral Sparrows (actually boys) from Regensburg; and the authentically inclined orchestra Concerto Köln from Köln. The broadcaster’s own estimable BR Chor anchored the proceedings under its Dutch artistic leader Peter Dijkstra. Instantly (Feb. 16) their efforts poured out over the Internet and to watchers of the Franco-German TV network Arte. No doubt a DVD will follow to match the BR Klassik label’s equally azure Christmas Oratorio of 2010.

The next afternoon (Feb. 17), by dint of planning the first Sunday in Lent, all was repeated, happily without color effects or cameras, and wonders ensued anyway. Jarringly at first, Dijkstra favored leisurely speeds for the choruses yet brisk dispatch of the arias, as if he could not settle between traditional and authentic ways with the score. But this hybrid approach soon proved enlightening: choral ideas gained transparency, also grandeur, while the music for solo voice advanced in resolute dramatic units.

Romberger’s graceful legato and neatly placed ornaments found the logic of her musical lines, with text emphases shifting in modest degrees; this is an imaginative, rich, true alto whose absorbing Buß und Reu and Erbarme dich alone justified attendance. Gauvin brought an agile, creamy soprano, although her phrasing did not always explain her renown as a Baroque stylist. Schmitt’s high, sometimes meager-toned tenor projected well. Nagy’s keen musicianship largely masked missing gravitas in the voice. A member of the Royal Opera in Stockholm, Fredriksson declaimed the protagonist’s varied part in bright hues, his voice fully supported even in sudden outbursts; though listed as a baritone, he had all the low notes. Prégardien offered an equally vivid storyteller but strained in abrupt ascents.

The bisected BR Chor sang with customary discipline and impeccable text enunciation, while the sparrows opulently held aloft Bach’s cantus firmus girders in framing Part I. Instrumentally the performance had great eloquence — in the extensive viola da gamba work (from Jan Freiheit for both groupings), in a nimble violin solo (from Mayumi Hirasaki in Orchestra II), and in the robust, confident sound of the divided Cologne ensemble.

Photo © Klaus Fleckenstein for BR

Related posts:
St John Passion Streams
BR’s Full-Bodied Vin Herbé
Muti Crowns Charles X
BR Chor’s Humorless Rossini
With Viotti, MRO Looks Back

“He’s So Musical”

March 28th, 2013

by Sedgwick Clark

PK turned to me last Friday (3/22) at Carnegie Hall when the applause had died down for intermission and asked, “Where did he come from? He’s so musical. Where did he train?” Moments later, she continued animatedly to friends who had joined us, “He seems relaxed with the piano – it’s not an adversarial relationship like the Serkin school, where the instrument is an enemy to be conquered. He doesn’t play with anxiety, which is rare these days.” She also liked his insightful program notes.

What a relief! Her usual question when I’ve cajoled her into going to a concert that initially elicited a frown is muttered after the first piece or movement: “Why am I here?” Fact is, she’d almost always rather spend the evening at home with our three bichons, but this time she was happy she came.

The recitalist was Jeremy Denk, who opened the program audaciously with Bartók’s Piano Sonata (1926). I hadn’t heard the Sonata in many years and was reminded of its strong kinship to the First Piano Concerto (my favorite of the three), which Bartók composed later that year. It’s the first of his oeuvre to use the piano as a percussion instrument. “Though dissonant and raucous, it’s very good-humored,” Denk states in his notes, and his rendering of the work’s dance and folk elements, his colorful tonal palette, and refusal to bang served the music brilliantly.

Great Liszt performances require beauty of tone, first and foremost. In “Weinen, Klagen, Sorgen, Zagen” Prelude after J.S. Bach, S. 179; Sonetto 123 del Petrarca from Années de pèlerinage, Deuxième année; Dante Sonata; and Isoldes Liebestod from Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde — a group Denk describes as “ranging from worldly pain to bliss to damnation to death” — he succeeded admirably, with all the requisite dynamic range. The first work, astonishingly, seems to be the first Carnegie Hall performance in recorded history. The Petrarca Sonetto purred with velvet. The turbulent Dante, which so often sprawls, was the most convincing, i.e., coherent, performance I’ve heard. The Tristan transcription, which easily curdles, was gorgeously sustained.

Bach’s Prelude and Fugue in B minor from The Well-Tempered Clavier, Book I, BWV 869, appeared underplayed, perhaps deliberately, for it was followed by a Beethoven Sonata No. 32, Op. 111, replete with chance taking. Carnegie’s wet acoustic has always challenged piano recitals (at least in the parquet seats), especially after the hall’s 1986 renovation, and Denk’s fingers seemed to race ahead at times in the Allegro. The second-movement Adagio lacked breadth to my taste, despite excellent trills and an emotionally satisfying coda, but PK “really liked” the performance in its entirety.

Denk fans may look forward to Saturday evening, May 4, when he joins Renée Fleming and several other fine artists at Carnegie in an attractive lineup of vocal and chamber fin de siècle works.

By the way, Denk earned a master’s degree as a pupil of György Sebök at Indiana University and a doctorate in piano performance at Juilliard, where he studied with Herbert Stessin.

Looking Forward

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

3/28 Avery Fisher Hall. Los Angeles Philharmonic/Gustavo Dudamel. Vivier: Zipangu. Debussy: La Mer. Stravinsky: The Firebird (complete ballet).

4/1 at 7:30. Symphony Space. Cutting Edge Concerts New Music Festival. Pulse Chamber Ensemble; Chris Reza Trio. Victoria Bond: Cyclops. Charles Mason: Pulsearrythmic. Thomas Sleeper: Semi-Suite. Jesse Jones: Unisono. Chris Reza: Cacophony.

4/3 Carnegie Hall. Boston Symphony/Rafael Frühbeck de Burgos. Hindemith: Concert Music for Strings and Brass. Rachmaninoff: Rhapsody on a Theme by Paganini. Bartók: Concerto for Orchestra.

4/4 Carnegie Hall. Boston Symphony/Daniele Gatti; Anne Sofie von Otter, mezzo; Tanglewood Festival Chorus. Mahler: Symphony No. 3.

Vanitas Vanitatum, Omnia Vanitas

March 22nd, 2013

By Rebecca Schmid

Experimental Regie, free from the scrutiny of finicky patrons on the German opera scene, can in the best case scenario serve to illuminate hidden meanings of a score. In the worst case, it can drown out or obscure musical considerations. The Staatsoper Berlin’s Werkstatt (‘workshop’), a wing of the company’s temporary residence in the Schiller Theater dedicated to new music theater (the literal translation of Musiktheater, which in effect places music and theater on equal turf), is currently showing Salvatore Sciarrino’s Vanitas (1981), designated by the composer as a ‘still life in one act.’ A trio for soprano, cello and piano, the work—seen at its second run on March 19—comes closest to a mini cantata with its intricate exchanges. A winding, descending melody provides a Leitmotif of angst and emptiness for the soprano, echoed by the ghostly cello, while the piano interjects with a bed of shifting harmonies. The text, woven together from fragments by German, Italian and other poets, lingers existentially over a wilting rose—an image hovering on the boundary between life and death.

In a new staging by Götz Friedrich protégé Beate Baron, the notion of a still life is taken literally when an elderly couple (Hans Hirschmüller and Friederike Frerichs) stands motionless before the audience, the sequins on their aristocratic clothes sparkling as they exude an admonishing stare. The soprano (Rowan Hellier) is trapped in her own surreal world—hair pinned up above doll-like make-up when she emerges from a corridor drowned in white light. As the drama escalates with frenetic passages in the piano (Jenny Kim), scrims descend to provide close-ups of the elderly couple—larger than life yet a bold distraction from the searching emptiness of the music. The actors, still onstage, resemble negligent, upper crust parents as they observe Hellier writhe on the floor in a moment of insanity. Her agility was impressive, but certain positions naturally compromised vocal production. I found myself drawn to the skilful playing of cellist Gregor Fuhrmann as his bow hovered with eerie tones above the bridge. Grating and creaking accompanied Hellier’s silent scream as the lights faded to darkness—a moment which allowed for full immersion in the music.

Ultimately, one was left wanting more. Perhaps it would have made sense to juxtapose the work with another one-acter—maybe even a world premiere culled from the extensive pool of Berlin-based composers—and pare back the staging? Two seasons ago, the company mounted Sciarrino’s Infinito Nero (1998) alongside Peter Maxwell Davies’ Miss Donnithorne’s Maggot (1974). Davies received an installation with live video that culminated in attempted suicide and a still birth, but in this case the protagonist is an abandoned bride who, according to the 19th-century story, actually does go insane. For Sciarrino’s ‘ecstasy in one act’ evoking the mystical experiences of Maria Maddalena de’Pazzi, the soprano Sarah Maria Sun was duct-taped to a cross that was hung from the ceiling. The concept was at first captivating—not to mention a technical feat—but quickly lost traction when extras crawled around with dildos stuck in their flies and splattered Sun with blue paint. The score’s hollow, breathing winds and haunted outbursts were reduced to spiritual relics—which is ironic given the Werkstatt’s focus on new music. The institution deserves credit for its sense of adventure, but the future of Musiktheater may depend on an awareness that theater must serve the interests of music—not the other way around.

rebeccaschmid.info