Summertime

July 11th, 2012

by Sedgwick Clark

I am relieved to say that the concert “season,” such as it used to be, is officially over. Nothing like three mostly concertless months to revivify one’s passion for the art. There are a few scattered enticements here and there, as well as three Mostly Moz concerts on the horizon—a preconcert recital of works by Rachmaninoff and Stravinsky with the amazing 18-year-old pianist Conrad Tao, hearing Philadelphia Orchestra Music Director-designate Yannick Nézet-Séguin for the first time in concert, Louis Langrée leading works by Lutosławski, Bartók, and, of all composers, Mozart. But that’s it so far. I hope to catch up on some recent CDs and will report accordingly.

I’ve also been surprised by the number of people who keep asking me when I’m going to post photos from my Africa jaunt in May. The wildlife and terrain were certainly photogenic, and I even took some video—nothing dramatic, of course, but it’s kind of amazing to be a few feet from a grazing rhinoceros family and have a cheetah nuzzle your leg like a house cat. I hope to get them organized for next week.

Son of The Mentalist

A new TNT series called Perception made its debut on Monday evening (7/9). It’s about a schizophrenic professor of neurology who has hallucinations, solves murders, and is addicted to doing crossword puzzles while listening to the Scherzo of Mahler’s First Symphony. At one point he peevishly ejects his cassette and says to his student assistant, “That’s the von Karajan recording—I wanted the Solti.” Reality check: There is no Karajan recording of the Mahler First. (The conductor decided not to record the First, according to British record executive Peter Alward, quoted in Richard Osborne’s authoritative Karajan biography, because it was “too Jewish.”) So is the script writer pulling our leg or is he hallucinating? At the fadeout, the professor is having a hallucinogenic conversation with a sympathetic former girlfriend; she disappears as his student assistant walks up, hands him a cassette, and he begins to listen with a smile on his face. Must be the Solti Mahler First.

Lacombe’s Tenure Extended in New Jersey

The New Jersey Symphony has extended the tenure of Jacques Lacombe, its music director since October 2010, through the 2015-16 season. His programs are often imaginative, and the orchestra is playing well, with especially fine string tone. I’ve heard concerts in Newark and the impressive Spring for Music appearance in May at Carnegie Hall in which he partnered the Canadian pianist Marc-André Hamelin in Busoni’s monumental Piano Concerto. He seems like a musician committed to growing with the orchestra rather than using the position as a personal stepping stone. Let’s hope they perform at Carnegie again soon.

Looking forward

My week’s scheduled concerts:

7/16 at 6:30, Le Poisson Rouge. Harumi Rhodes (violin) and Friends. Works by Debussy, Ravel, Messiaen, and Takemitsu.

Are We Liable For A Backstage Brawl?

July 11th, 2012

By Brian Taylor Goldstein

Our stage manger slapped one of our actresses during a rehearsal. Are we liable?

Anyone who understands the unique stresses and pressures of the performing arts should expect a certain degree of screaming, emotional meltdowns, tantrums, and other inappropriate behavior. Welcome to the theater. However, physical violence crosses the line and, among other things, can most certainly get your organization sued!

Anytime an individual provides services on your behalf—regardless of whether or not they are an employee, independent contractor, or even a volunteer—you can be liable if they hurt or injury someone “in the course of performing their duties.” Let’s say, for example, that one of your volunteer ushers decides to forcibly eject a patron who refuses to shut off his cell phone, injuring the patron in the process. Your organization could be liable because the usher was performing services on your behalf and was not properly trained or supervised. (The usher could be sued, too, but your organization would be included in the lawsuit.) On the other hand, let’s say you arrange for a volunteer to pick up an artist from the airport and drive him or her to the theater. If, on the way, the volunteer decides to stop and run a few personal errands and gets into an accident, you would not be liable. Once the volunteer deviated from his or her job by running a personal errand, he or she was no longer working on your behalf. Get it? These things are very fact specific.

In the case of your stage manager, was this a personal fight? Just because the stage manager slapped the actress doesn’t necessarily mean your organization is liable if he or she wasn’t acting in the capacity of a stage manager at the time. However, let’s say that the actress refused to follow the stage manager’s directions, a fight ensued, and the stage manager decided, out of frustration or poor anger management skills, to slap the actress. You could most definitely be sued because the stage manager was clearly acting in his or her capacity as a stage manager.

If you had strict written policies prohibiting physical violence, assaults, battery, etc, you could always argue that (1) you had no reason to believe that your stage manager was violent or had assaulted others in the past and (2) that he or she was violating strict company guidelines and procedures. (The stage manager could still be personally sued for assault and battery, but these arguments might get your organization off the hook.) However, now that this has happened, you would most definitely be liable if this ever happened again and you took no steps to prevent another similar incident.

You would certainly be warranted in dismissing the stage manager and refusing to let him or her work with you again. Short of that, at the very least, you should ensure that there are written policies and procedures for all volunteers, employees, independent contractors, and any one else who provides services for your organization. You need to make sure everyone understands that this kind of behavior will not be tolerated.

_________________________________________________________________

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.

__________________________________________________________________

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!

The San Francisco Symphony Youth Orchestra takes the Philharmonie

July 6th, 2012

By Rebecca Schmid

A timpanist just tall enough to rumble his mallets over the kettle drums stares out from beneath his specs as Lars Vogt slides onto the bench for the opening chords of Grieg’s Piano Concerto.

“I like that sound!” says Music Director Donato Cabrera to the young percussionist as he walks out into the front aisles of the Philharmonie. “Could you do more of a crescendo?”

He immediately resumes.

“Yeah!”

The members of the San Francisco Symphony Youth Orchestra (SFSYO) stamp their feet in congratulation. As rehearsal continues, former Music Director Alasdair Neale, who has dropped into town for a visit, also weighs in from the aisles, coordinating seamlessly with Cabrera to refine balance issues. The orchestra plays through parts of Mahler’s First Symphony, the strings attempting a dreamy pianissimo that even the world’s best orchestras struggle to create.

Finally, it is time for rehearsal to come to an end. “Breathe, breathe, breathe,” Cabrera offers as a final suggestion. “And play your guts out!”

Donata Cabrera rehearses with the SFSYO at the Philharmonie (c) Oliver Theil/SFSYO-Few professional orchestras enjoy the same degree of artistic adventure as the SFSYO. The orchestra came to Berlin as part of a European tour (June 20-July 6)—its eighth since being founded in 1981—that traveled through three other German cities, Luxemburg, and ended in Salzburg. As the orchestra’s Director of Education Ronald Gallman pointed out, playing on the same stage as the Berlin Philharmonic is already an enormous accomplishment, not to mention a huge boost for the morale. The ensemble, drawing together Bay area musicians aged 12 to 21, exists on a tuition-free basis (thanks to generous sponsorship which also made this year’s tour possible) and receives weekly coaching with members of the San Francisco Symphony as well as yearly sessions with San Francisco Symphony Music Director Michael Tilson Thomas. Guest artists have included Yo-Yo Ma, Sir Simon Rattle, John Adams, and Midori.

Vogt, joining the SFSYO for the fifth time, told me backstage that “the sky is the limit” with this orchestra, adding how important it is for professional musicians not to be “set in their frames” and allow the youthful inquiries of musicians playing something like Mahler for the first time to bring a fresh take on issues that more seasoned players take for granted. Cabrera emphasized that the act of discovery is no different with a youth orchestra than any other professional ensemble. “This is what we live for,” he said. “There is always more to peel away and discover.”

Speaking with three of the orchestra’s members, it was clear that they shared these values of music-making as a constant learning process. Principal violist Omar Shelly explained that while they had already rehearsed the programmed works extensively at home, the tour was a “huge opportunity to adjust a prime product to different places, like a catering to a menu.” Principal oboist Liam Boisset, who like Shelly plans to become a professional musician, raved about how the acoustics of the Philharmonie allowed all the orchestra’s members to hear one other. “I’ve learned so much more about Mahler on this tour,” he said. “It makes me much more aware about where I sit in the orchestra.”

At the concert later that evening, the Grieg opened with a precisely built crescendo on the timpani that carried well to the back of the Philharmonie. The close attention in rehearsal to balance made itself clear in the elegant flute and horn solos of the first movement, while Vogt brought a light yet intense touch to the runs underlying the orchestra. Vogt’s emotional togetherness with the ensemble was particularly apparent in the Adagio movement, and the sighing melodies received a lovely rubato in the strings. The final Allegro, featuring Vogt in a spirited evocation of a Norwegian folk dance, was thoroughly polished and on point. Every dynamic shading emerged well-conceived and firmly in its place, yet there was also a mystical quality to the quieter passages, such as when the flute and dusky strings usher in a nocturnal passage on the piano.

In Mahler’s First Symphony, Cabrera and the SFSYO admirably captured the leisurely pace the composer indicated in his tempo indication Langsam, schleppend—as opposed to the third movement (Feierlich und gemessen, ohne zu schleppen). The playful “kuckuck” wind motifs were particularly endearing coming from a youth orchestra, contrasting at first ironically with the glassy opening strings and the primordial inquiries underlying the music. The orchestra nailed the Scherzo, with its jaunty waltz riff (in fact an Austrian Ländler), executing phrases of mature heft and temperament. Even after the deluge of Mahler last season for the centenary of his death, it is impossible to resist being captivated by the Frère Jacques canon of the third movement, with its slow, resigned march toward death, interrupted by Jewish folk melodies that mourn as they rejoice. After making its way with rapt attention through this spiritual ambiguity, the orchestra let loose in the turbulent final movement, lending charged passages force without becoming muscular. Mahler not being a composer of the greatest psychological simplicity, the Sitzfleisch and intellectual stamina of these young musicians deserve much praise.

Yet it was John Adams’ Shaker Loops that showed the orchestra at its best. The composer’s extensive collaboration with the musicians’ home organization of course strengthens their claim to this music, Adams having inspired the Meet the Composer residency program and established his national reputation with works written for the San Francisco Symphony. Shaker Loops is one of his first major compositions, adapted from a septet to full string orchestra in 1982 and featuring pulsating minimalist textures that, unlike in Reich or Glass, are set to Western harmonies and traditional form. The high energy of the repeated tremoli in the opening Shaking and Trembling immediately brought some west coast wind into the Philharmonie, and the eerie microtonal slides in the following Hymning Slews revealed impressive technical precision. A Final Shaking provided a satisfying close with anxious high-pitched shimmering that yields to ecstatic tonal harmonies. It is not for nothing that the SFSYO won an ASCAP Award for Adventurous Programming and the Award for American Programming on Foreign Tours this year.

Cabrera with the SFSYO (c) Jeff Bartee Photography/SFS

Gilbert’s 360 Armory Spectacular

July 4th, 2012

by Sedgwick Clark

Live mannequins greeted audience members as they ascended the steps of the Park Avenue Armory for the New York Philharmonic’s genuine season finale under Alan Gilbert. A few steps further, under a set of bleachers, stood a group of powder-wigged ladies in white floor-length dresses. I stared at one, and her eyes followed me as I passed into the concert arena: creepy, like a white-face mime at Columbus Circle or a smoking caryatid in Jean Cocteau’s film Beauty and the Beast.

They were, we learned later, the chorus in the First Act finale of Mozart’s Don Giovanni. Across Central Park, away from the orchestra’s staid subscription series at Lincoln Center, Gilbert could cut loose and astonish us in music for multiple orchestras by Gabrieli, Boulez, Mozart, Stockhausen, and Ives. Two evenings dominated by a pair of postwar modernist classics heard only once before in New York had sold out the Armory’s 1,400 seats far in advance, and standees ringed the catwalks on each side of the arena. All the performances bespoke meticulous rehearsal. Even when precision inevitably suffered from the cavernous acoustic and football-field separation of orchestras and singers, one thoroughly appreciated the care in preparation.

The whole production was filmed and will be available for streaming free on July 6 at 2:00 p.m. and for 90 days henceforth on medici.tv. Click for more information.

Oddly, the opening Gabrieli Canzon XVI for antiphonal brass and its performers were not listed in the program. Too bad, for the Philharmonic brass may never have sounded so sheerly beautiful in their home town. They deserved more recognition than mere listing in the orchestra roster 11 pages later.

The major works were Karlheinz Stockhausen’s Gruppen (“Groups”) for Three Orchestras (1955-57) and Pierre Boulez’s Rituel in memoriam Bruno Maderna for Orchestra in Eight Groups (1974-75). Both have been more written about than performed—at least in the U.S.—and it’s easy to hear why. The music is fiendishly difficult and requires extra rehearsal time (as well as extra conductors in Gruppen, in this instance Magnus Lindberg and Matthias Pintscher). Over half a century later, the German composer’s total serialism and experiments in electronics have not gained a wide audience. These performances of Gruppen were only the second and third in New York; the first was by the New England Conservatory Orchestra at Juilliard in 1965. Tanglewood attendees may recall when Oliver Knussen, Rheinbert De Leeuw, and Robert Spano led the work and then repeated it immediately at the festival’s Contemporary Music series in 1993 (those interested should google Edward Rothstein’s eloquent Times review).

Critics usually tread lightly on reputed “classics” for fear of appearing foolish among their colleagues. I’ll plead obtuseness and say that, for me, Gruppen’s sole arresting moment occurred about three-quarters into the piece, when the north and south orchestras passed recognizably similar material back and forth for a few seconds (the climax?) before reverting to the work’s arid intellectuality. The piece seemed far longer than its 21:21 timing indicated. Perhaps repeated viewings of the Medici streaming will produce a “eureka.”

While Boulez is no less intellectually rigorous than Stockhausen, he nearly always seduces the listener (or me, anyway) with the glimmering colors in which he cloaks his music. He is, after all, French and a descendant of Debussy and Ravel, although in Rituel he evokes his teacher Messiaen. It lasts under 30 minutes, but there’s a sameness to it that made it seem overlong at its U.S. premiere with the Philharmonic under the composer in January 1977 and which Gilbert could not counteract.

So what’s Mozart doing in this company? The final scene of Don Giovanni involves three small orchestras, which were spaced out in the performance space with the singers roving around in the audience. The audacity of staging this scene in such a vast space with so much going on at the same time far outweighed the lack of precision or the fact that the singers’ lines became an indistinct echo when the characters weren’t directly facing you.

Charles Ives’s bona fide 20th-century classic, The Unanswered Question, which closed the concert, for once received its ideal spatial layout: the horseshoe arrangement of strings on the floor, playing ppp throughout to represent “The Silences of the Druids—Who Know, See, and Hear Nothing”; the flutes seeking “The Invisible Answer” from a raised platform amid the strings; and the solo trumpet lofting “The Perennial Question of Existence” from an open door at the very top of the western end of the Armory. While I would have welcomed a broader tempo (Gilbert was just under six minutes), the Philharmonic’s playing was tonal beauty incarnate.

A Class Act

The actor Alec Baldwin has donated a million dollars to the New York Philharmonic. The gift specifically honors the orchestra’s outgoing president and chief executive Zarin Mehta.

“I have loved classical music all of my life,” stated  Baldwin in a Philharmonic press release on Monday (7/2), “but Zarin Mehta made my dream of becoming part of the world of classical music come true.” So far, the actor has become host of the weekly Philharmonic broadcasts, recorded a pre-concert admonition to audiences to turn off their cellphones et al., performed the role of Narrator in Stravinsky’s L’Histoire du soldat under Valery Gergiev in 2010, been host of some of the orchestra’s Live from Lincoln Center broadcasts, become a member of the Philharmonic Board, and recorded a Capitol One bank TV commercial promoting Lincoln Center, for which he was paid a cool million and which he has now graciously passed on to the orchestra.

A class act, Mr. Baldwin. Perhaps I’m naive, but I can’t help thinking that there are more stars of the popular arts and sports who love classical music and would welcome a Zarin Mehta’s enterprising offer to support their local arts scene. It’s surely worth a try.

Claus Guth’s Forest-bound ‘Don Giovanni’ at the Staatsoper; Musikfestspiele Potsdam’s new Pleasure Garden

June 29th, 2012

By Rebecca Schmid

Few operas in history have gripped the human psyche to the same extent as Don Giovanni. Pushkin, Kierkegaard, and Bernard Shaw count among the literary figures to have written their own account of the daemonic seductor since Mozart and Da Ponte staged their ‘drama giocoso,’ a tragi-comedy, in Prague. Since the 19th century, some champions of the work have further added to the opera’s moral ambiguity by excluding the final sextet, “Questo é il fin di chi fa mal/e de’ perfidi la morte/alla vita è sempre ugual” (this is the end for evildoers/death and life are the same for the villainous) after Don Giovanni is sent to hell. Meanwhile, his female conquests have been increasingly interpreted as consenting perpetrators of his sexual games rather than just victims and continue to provide stage directors with ample fodder. Robert Carsen, in his new production for La Scala last December, sets the Commendatore’s murder by Don Giovanni in the chambers of Donna Anna (Anna Netrebko), leaving her white slip covered in blood as she holds her father’s dead body on the same bed where she frolicked with the murderer. In the final scene, the accursed aristocrat reemerges from hell puffing on a cigarette while his avengers descend into infernal smoke.

Carsen’s vision was supposed to travel to Berlin this month as a guest production of the Staatsoper until it emerged that it would be impossible to adapt sets to the company’s current home in the Schiller Theater (the company’s 18th-century headquarters on the Boulevard Unter den Linden are currently undergoing renovation, recently delayed—again—until 2015). In another strange twist, La Netrebko, the highlight of a live screening that will be broadcast to an outdoor plaza, announced in May that she would withdraw in order to make time for her son. The Swedish soprano Maria Bengtsson was whisked in and Claus Guth’s 2008 production, mounted during Staatsoper Intendant Jürgen Flimm’s tenure at the Salzburg Festival, quietly slated as a replacement. The star appeal was not entirely lost as Netrebko’s husband Erwin Schrott remained on the roster as Don Giovanni’s sidekick, Leporello, while the original Zerlina (Anna Prohaska), her Masetto (Stefan Kocan) and Don Ottavio (Giuseppe Filianoti) provided continuity for an event that has been touted as a highlight of the season.

The Guth staging, seen at its German premiere on June 24, takes a dark, pseudo-cinematic approach to the opera, confining the action to the middle of a dark forest with a rusty bus stop serving as the only manmade shelter. The curtain opens to a beer-chugging, ex-convict like Leporello while Donna Anna rips off the Don’s shirt in the background. In the showdown with the Commendatore, Don Giovanni is shot in the stomach with a plastic gun and walks around through the remainder of the opera with an open wound. During Donna Anna’s aria “Non mi dir,” he has already become a specter. Meanwhile, a business-like Donna Elvira chases after her one-time husband in heels, gets stoned out of her mind with Leporello, and lies on the forest floor with the dying anti-hero during her aria “Mi tradi.” In the first act, Zerlina and her bridesmaids emerge like wood nymphs in the thick of what appear to be real pines (sets and costumes by Christian Schmidt) before the stage turns to reveal a tree swing that will serve as Don Giovanni’s seduction grounds. The rotating stage spins at its fastest when Donna Anna and Don Ottavio pull up in a sedan, although they are ultimately as damned to roaming the forest as much as any other character.

(c) Monika Rittershaus

While it is hard to deny the poetic weight of setting Don Giovanni in the woods—the opening to Dante’s Inferno, “Mi ritrovai per una selva oscura” ‘I found myself in a dark forest’ is the first thing that comes to mind—the production is mired in Regie gimmicks that undermine its psychological depth. Staring at tree trunks for two full acts also proved monotonous. Guth omits the final sextet, leaving Don Giovanni to fall into the earth after the Commendatore returns to a wintry forest (further emphasizing the notion of a terrestrial hell in which the characters cannot find the way toward redemption), yet scenes such as Don Giovanni and Leporello roasting marshmallows and the senseless presence of immaculate, bourgeois dressed characters in the brambles linger irritatingly within the director’s otherwise morbid vision. To be sure, his concept is fully in keeping with the opera’s legendary blend of comic and tragic elements, and his surrealist take on Don Giovanni’s existence, trapped somewhere between life and death, could not be more dead-on in literary terms, yet the production demands a level of intellectual engagement that supersedes its theatrical appeal. 

Nevertheless, Guth was blessed with a cast that largely rose above the quixotic circumstances vocally and theatrically. The audience hardly seemed to miss Netrebko as Bengtsson, a statuesque blonde with natural allure, portrayed the distraught Donna Anna with creamy tones and fine attention to dramatic nuance. Her voice was tearful in opening stanzas of “Non mi dir,” kept painfully slow by Music Director Daniel Barenboim, while she revealed unblemished strength in her swift declaration that heaven may someday forgive her. As Don Giovanni, Christopher Maltman evoked more of a modern playboy than an irresistibly virile predator, yet his high-lying baritone warmed up to give a fine rendition of his aria “Deh vieni alla finestra,” and his fear was vividly credible in the final scene. Schrott nearly stole the show as the riotous buffoon and manipulator Leporello, his booming bass and excellent Italian diction carrying magnetically in the dry acoustics of the Schiller Theater.

It is almost unfair to cast Elvira, often considered a mezzo role, with a soprano as eloquent as Dorothea Röschmann, and yet her acting skills do not always rise to the same level. While her rich tone and technical polish were the vocal stand-out of the evening, her presence more easily called to mind the countess in Le Nozze di Figaro, which she sang earlier this season, than Don Giovanni’s brash consort. As Zerlina, Prohaska (Musical America’s current “New Artist of the Month”) lived up to her usual standards of musical and thespian excellence, effortlessly singing through “La ci darem la mano” as she pumped herself on a swing. Kocan was a convincingly exasperated Masetto, although his voice retains a thick Slavic quality that interferes with the demands of singing in Italian. By contrast, Filianoti, in the role of Ottavio, cultivates a flexible technique that was ideal for the coloratura runs of the aria “Il mio tesoro,” yet his nasal timbre lacks body. He also failed to remain in time with Barenboim on more than one occasion. Ukranian Bass Alexander Tsymbalyuk was an imposing, expressively full-voiced Commendatore.

Barenboim led the Staatskapelle in a performance that never lacked dynamic shape and dramatic purpose, sensitively accompanying the singers at all times with great emotional depth, yet his tempo relations in Mozart were occasionally perplexing. The second half of “La ci darem la mano,” “Andiam mio bene” was twice as fast as the opening. The orchestra, despite its rich, Germanic sound, is also not terribly flattered by the acoustics of its current home, and its attacks could be rounder. Despite the odds stacked against this production, Barenboim proved that his ensemble is the best in town for Mozart operas, even if the composer is rolling is in his grave as Don Giovanni continues to wander the forest.

The production runs through July 6.

(c) Monika Rittershaus

Out at Friedrich the Great’s old stomping grounds…

The city of Potsdam is currently inundated with tributes to the tercentenary of Friedrich the Great, from Das Musical Friedrich to an exhibit of personal items entitled Friederisiko that stretches from the rococo palace Sanssouci to the Neue Palais, built at the end of the Seven Years’ War. While the 18th-century Prussian king may be best remembered for an aggressive military campaign that annexed parts of modern-day Poland and the Czech Republic in an escalating power struggle with the Austro-Hungarian Empire, the ‘enlightened despot’ was also a great patron of the arts. A flutist and amateur composer who penned 100 sonatas and four symphonies, Friedrich included C.P.E. Bach and Quantz among his court musicians; enjoyed a legendary if tumultuous friendship with Voltaire; and, fittingly for his time, favored the French language above German. Homages to “Old Fritz,” as he has been nicknamed, have extended to a new album released by Berlin Philharmonic Principal Flutist and soloist Emmanuel Pahud, Flöten König. The Swiss musician even dressed up earlier this season on the grounds of Sanssouci.

Potsdam’s annual Musikfestspiele (June 9-24) similarly seized upon the opportunity to transform city grounds into a courtly celebration, including a “Sanssouci Prom Concert” in the garden of the Neue Palais and ensembles as such as the Freiburger Baroque Orchester and the Orchestra of the Age of the Enlightenment in baroque and classical repertoire. The festival also included a “picnic concert” for the first time this year. The setting on Potsdam’s Freundschaftsinsel, a picturesque botanical garden nestled quietly away from the post-war architecture surrounding the main station just minutes away, proved a fitting escape for the occasion, replete with a couple in 18th-century garb pushing a tram that carried a baby anachronistically sucking a pacifier. Locals festively spread out their blankets and picnic fare, some including white tablecloths and prosecco on ice with an eye to winning the competition that was underway for “most inventive arrangement” (Potsdam, while only an hour away from Berlin and Friedrich’s summer getaway of choice, maintains its own brand of provincial flair).

The opening concert, however, represented a decidedly non-continental take on celebrations for the Flute King, featuring the band Fine Arts Brass in an all-British program. As both a visiting journalist from a U.K. publication and one of the group’s members individually commented, it felt “surreal.” The concert fell just on the heels of the Jubilee Weekend in England, and the brass band naturally included an arrangement of Handel’s Water Music. The group’s leading trumpeter Simon Lenton, moderating between numbers with a refreshing blend of humor and informative material, joked that the German native was “England’s finest composer.” Yet the program ranged from arrangements of Dowland and Purcell to a suite by Anthony Holborne that is usually performed for Christmas and Farewell to Stromness by Peter Maxwell Davies, living proof in his position as “Master of the Queen’s Music” that the art of patronage has not died.

In conversation with the festival’s Artistic Director Andrea Palent, it emerged that the event was partly modeled after “Last Night of the Proms,” which moves from the concert hall out into Hyde Park and other outdoor venues. She also mentioned the 18th-century tradition of “pleasure gardens,” which according to Palent spread its influence throughout Europe in Friedrich’s time (although the fact remains that he was Francophile). Palent also grounded the concept in a more general principle of the Enlightenment as championed by figures such as Rousseau—“back to nature”—saying that she hoped the outdoor setting would affect listeners on a sensual as well as intellectual level.

As the Meccore Quartet, a young group of Polish musicians, performed from string quartets by Haydn, Mozart, and Mendelssohn during the second part of the program, the music indeed served to heighten the sensory experience of sitting on the lawn and breathing the summer air rather than become an isolated spectacle. While one of the violinists mentioned afterwards that they had been concerned about acoustics, the music felt as if it were meant to be played in this setting, which in fact camouflaged technical and dynamic details that would have been more apparent to a critic’s ear in the concert hall. In an age of technological oversaturation, the event proved a fleeting reminder of the values that bred 18th-century art, even if a retiree couldn’t refrain from chasing after the musicians to take pictures with her digital camera.

 A gabled sculpture from the garden of the Neue Palais © Holger Kirsch for the Musikfestspiele Potsdam Sanssouci

A Month at the Phil

June 27th, 2012

by Sedgwick Clark

Gilbert’s Austere Nielsen

Alan Gilbert’s first major recording project since becoming music director of the New York Philharmonic is the symphonies and concertos of Denmark’s foremost composer, Carl Nielsen (1865-1931), for Dacapo. The series commenced last year with the Second Symphony (The Four Temperaments), recorded live in concert. Last week was the Third, nicknamed Sinfonia espansiva. The two are set for release on the first CD in the fall.

Nielsen completed his Third in 1911, the same year as Stravinsky’s Petrushka, Sibelius’s Fourth Symphony, Schoenberg’s Pierrot Lunaire, Bartók’s Bluebeard’s Castle, and Strauss’s Der Rosenkavalier. Debussy was working on Book II of his Préludes and Ravel on Daphnis et Chloé. Three weeks after Nielsen finished his Third, Mahler died, leaving his Tenth Symphony unfinished.

Like those composers, Nielsen’s mature voice is unmistakable—unique even, like Janáček’s—with warmly German Romantic roots. He has often been compared with his fellow Scandinavian Sibelius, but the Dane’s sunny optimism, prankster humor, and humanistic love of life are nowhere to be found in the moody Finn’s music. Nor were those qualities much evident in Gilbert’s first of four performances of the Third (6/14), although a friend who heard three performances felt he had relaxed into the work a bit more by the final one.

Gilbert began promisingly with sharp attacks on those stuttering (Anthony Tommasini’s apt description in his Times review) fortissimo chords, digging in with ample schwung to the central oom-pah waltz section. But taut symphonic structure is not what Nielsen is about. By the work’s end, with only fleeting hints of rubato or expressive rhetoric (such as healthy unmarked ritards in the final bars of the outer movements) to heighten the music’s joy, one felt Gilbert’s vision anything but espansiva. His sole departure from the score was a slight increase of tempo for the last two pages of the finale, which raised the temperature nicely.

The conductor’s urgency should better suit Nielsen’s propulsive Fourth (The Inextinguishable) when the time comes.

The program opened with Beethoven’s Coriolan Overture, with Gilbert preferring warm, rounded textures over the work’s inherent nervous intensity. His sensitive accompaniment in Erich Wolfgang Korngold’s Violin Concerto fit Leonidas Kavakos’s affectionate interpretation like a glove. I felt the first two movements dragged somewhat, having learned the piece via the famous Heifetz recording, but the finale veritably crackled, bringing the audience roaring to its feet.

Comfortable Mozart   

Coming after Gilbert’s spectacularly successful subscription finales to his first two seasons, Ligeti’s Le Grand Macabre and Janáček’s The Cunning Little Vixen, a pair of Mozart works to end the season seemed a cruel joke. True, Emanuel Ax’s genial take on the 22nd piano concerto and a buoyant, unpressured performance of the Mass in C minor (Great) on June 20 were nothing to sneeze at. Moreover, a Joseph Flummerfelt chorus (New York Choral Artists in this case) is always a treat. And those productions must have been costly in a time of red ink. But this is the New York Philharmonic, damn it all, and those two 20th-century operas were huge hits with the public and critics. An imaginative music director is a terrible thing to waste.

Dutilleux—the French Bartók?

Scheduling three non-subscription concerts of mostly 20th- and 21st-century music the following week partly made up for this lapse of judgment.

First, on June 26, a superbly performed concert of three scintillating works by French composer Henri Dutilleux: Métaboles (1961-64), Ainsi la nuit (Thus the Night) (1973-76), and Tout un monde lointain . . . (A Whole Distant World . . .) for Cello and Orchestra (1968-70, rev. 1988). Yo-Yo Ma was soloist, so the concert was sold out and scalpers proliferated. (I wonder how many audience members had the vaguest notion of what they were about to hear?) They heard top notch—Ma at his best, the young Miró Quartet irrepressible in the second work, and the Philharmonic strings in Métaboles as sumptuous as I’ve ever heard them, reminding us that Gilbert is a violinist. A definite highlight of his tenure thus far. Dutillieux revealed a delightful penchant for pizzicato in the first two works especially, reminiscent of Bartók’s MUSPAC and, more generally, the Hungarian master’s Concerto for Orchestra.

The concert also marked the first year of the Marie-Josée Kravis Prize for New Music at the New York Philharmonic, with Dutilleux as its inaugural winner. Upon accepting the award, the French composer announced that he would share the prize money of $200,000 with composers Anthony Chueng, Franck Krawczyk, and Peter Eötvös, who will write new works for the Philharmonic in Dutilleux’s honor. Kravis and her husband, Henry, have been major donors for new works at the Philharmonic since 2003, and the new prize will be awarded every other year. The Composer-in-Residence position is also endowed by the Kravises. Bravi to all concerned!

Second is a pair of concerts at the gargantuan Park Avenue Armory consisting of four works for multiple orchestras: Stockhausen’s Gruppen; Boulez’s Rituel (composed for the Philharmonic when he was music director); Mozart’s finale from Act I of Don Giovanni; and Ives’s The Unanswered Question, which is not really for three orchestras, but strings representing silence, a solo trumpet intoning the question, and flutes replying in increasingly hysterical “answers.” Presumably these three choirs will be widely separated in the Armory. The concerts are this coming weekend, the 29th and 30th. 

Let’s Not Forget CONTACT

This new-music series was conceived by Gilbert and the orchestra’s initial composer in residence, the Finn Magnus Lindberg, whose three-year term will be assumed next season by the American Christopher Rouse. On June 9 (Carl Nielsen’s birthday, incidentally) Lindberg hosted his final CONTACT program, with David Robertson conducting, at Symphony Space.

The astonishing 103-year-old Elliott Carter’s latest world premiere, Two Controversies and a Conversation, was played. He was in attendance for an interview with Lindberg and to cheer on percussionist Colin Currie and pianist Eric Huebner. The Swiss composer Michael Jarrell’s impossibly titled NACHLESE Vb: Liederzyklus (2011), on poems by Luis de Góngora y Argote, received its U.S. premiere. I have no idea if it’s a total-serial work, but it certainly harks back to the prim timbre and erotic beauty of fifties’ Boulez. I was riveted from first note to last and hope to hear more of Jarrell’s music soon. Charlotte Dobbs appeared to have mastered the composer’s intricate writing utterly.

Robertson introduced Boulez’s …explosante-fix… after intermission. He had conducted the Ensemble InterContemporain in the 1993 premiere of this final version and not only spoke lucidly but apparently extemporaneously, without notes, about the work’s history and composition. Absolutely mind-blowing! Equally impressive was his conducting, which harked back to Boulez’s Philharmonic days and the elder conductor’s extraordinary ability to make the performances so confident and easily grasped. And the Philharmonic players proved they still have it, seemingly negotiating these complex works as if they were basic repertoire—a crackpot notion that violinist Fiona Simon disabused me of afterwards, enumerating the hours of rehearsal both officially and at home. Well worth it, Fiona!

Looking forward

My week’s scheduled concerts:

6/29, Park Avenue Armory. New York Philharmonic/Alan Gilbert; Magnus Lindberg, Matthias Pintscher, assistant conductors. Gabrieli: Canzon for antiphonal brass. Boulez: Rituel in memoriam Bruno Maderna. Mozart: Don Giovanni, Act I Finale. Stockhausen: Gruppen. Ives: The Unanswered Question.

Is That A Music License I Hear?

June 27th, 2012

By Brian Taylor Goldstein

Do we legally have to have a music license if we have bands performing in our Country Club at weddings, social events, etc.?

Yes. Anytime music is publically performed, either live or by playing a recording through a sound system, a “performance license” is required. A “performance license” is a fee paid to the composer for the right to perform his or her composition publically (as opposed to performing music in your living room for friends and family.) Whenever you hear music being played in a department store, or in a restaurant, or in an elevator—even though its being played in the background and even though there are no fees or tickets to listen to the music—someone, somewhere has paid a performance license so you can enjoy an enhanced shopping, dining, or elevator-riding experience. Similarly, whenever music is performed live at a concert hall, nightclub, restaurant, or even, yes, at a private wedding held at a country club, someone, somewhere must obtain a performance license.

As the owner/operator of a performance space/venue, it is your legal responsibility to ensure that the necessary rights and authorizations have been obtained with respect to all copyrighted music that is publicly performed in your venue—even if the “performance” is for a private party. Just because the party is “private” or “by invitation only”, a country club itself is a public venue and the wedding guests are “public.” So, if your space is used for a wedding, and the happy couple hires a wedding band, it is your responsibility to ensure that there are appropriate licenses for the music being performed by the band.

While you could require the band or the event organizer to obtain the necessary licenses, that will not relieve you from responsibility (ie: liability) should they fail to do so. Most venues where live music is performed are better advised to obtain blanket performance licenses from the three performance rights licensing organizations: ASCAP, BMI and SESAC. Each of these organizations controls the rights to 1000s of compositions and a “blanket license” permits all the music from their catalogs to be performed at your venue. Its like one stop license shopping. While this will require you incur the license costs yourself, you can pass the costs along through your rental fees. Its also the best and only way to ensure that your legal responsibility as the owner/manager of the venue is being met. In other words, you need to obtain music licenses for the same reason you carry insurance: to protect the venue from liability.

If nothing else, think of it this way: for many artists/composers with lousy record deals, their performance licenses may be the only fees they receive for their work. If dancing and listening to their music makes the wedding guests happy, and happy wedding guests means happy Country Club members/renters, then all that happiness is at least worth a fee to the composer.

________________________________________________________________

“Law & Disorder:Performing Arts Unit” will take a short break on Wednesday, July 4. Our next post will be on Wednesday, July 11.

________________________________________________________________

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.

__________________________________________________________________

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!

Nézet-Séguin performs Epic Romance with the Berlin Philharmonic

June 22nd, 2012

By Rebecca Schmid

Conducting the Berlin Philharmonic is no small feat for a 37-year-old, and Yannick Nézet-Séguin—returning to the orchestra’s podium for the first time since his 2010 debut—had no intention to the make the event a small affair. The newly minted music director of the Philadelphia Orchestra, seen at the Philharmonie on June 16, juxtaposed Tchaikovsky’s Romeo and Juliet overture with the full three movements of Ravel’s Daphnis et Chloé as sung by the Rundfunkchor Berlin. It took Ravel three years to complete this ‘choreographic symphony’ to a commission by Diaghilev in 1909, and the score is usually reduced to two-part suite arrangement (penned by composer in 1911) for concert performance. The 1912 premiere of the full ballet in Paris did not go down as a success following Diaghilev’s open disinterest in Ravel’s score during rehearsal and the opening of Débussy’s L’Après-midi d’un faune the previous month, featuring provocative choreography by Nizhinsky that usurped public attention.

While Daphnis et Chloé reveals Ravel’s intricate powers of orchestration at their height, with rich impressionist tapestries and pictorial evocations of celestial groves, its subtleties struggle to reign in the listener for its full duration (just under an hour) without the presence of a ballet corps. Much like Stravinsky’s Apollon Musagète, which Sir Simon Rattle conducted last season alongside Mahler’s Fourth Symphony, it is—at least based on the performance I saw—a difficult piece to pull off in the concert hall. Nézet-Séguin had a clear sense of what we wanted from the orchestra and did not let the reins slack on a body of players who often dictate what is happening onstage at least as much as the conductor, and his French-speaking roots certainly worked to the performance’s advantage through the ethereal ebbs and flows of Ravel’s music, yet the Philharmonic’s handsome elegance remained a bit staid for moments of sheer nymph-like grace. The orchestra nevertheless thrived through the score’s transparent textures, such as the rapid flute and harp over muted strings that imitate the sound of rushing brooklets before building into a majestic view over the nymphs’ prairie in the third tableau.

The story, adapted by Michael Fokine from an ancient Greek romance, tells of the courtship between the goatherd Daphnis and the shepherdess Chloé, who is kidnapped by pirates but saved by her father, Pan. Once Daphnis and Chloé are reunited, a tumultuous final dance of the nymphs celebrates their union. Ravel weaves a simple two-note motive throughout the score to designate the pair’s mystical realm, easily evoking the earth’s breaking in the closing scene. The chorus is deployed atmospherically to enhance a sense of rapture, at one point emerging accompanied. The Rundfunkchor, which recorded this work with Orchestre Philharmonique de Monte-Carlo in 2010, produced glorious tones here, particularly in the soprano section. Concert Master Guy Braunstein delivered his solo numbers with deeply sensitive musicianship, evoking Daphnis’ approach of Chloé and the young Nymph wandering in the meadow with gleaming tone. The flute and clarinet solos of the Lycanion dances emerged with characteristic elegance and fluidity of communication.

Tchaikovsky’s Romeo and Juliet, officially designated as a ‘fantasy overture,’ similarly illustrates the stormy Shakespearean love story in a programmatic development of contrasting tableaus, moving from the prescient concerns of Friar Lawrence before yielding to the feuding Capulets and Montagues. The rich cellos and woodwinds of the opening Andante revealed the Philharmonic in top form, and the violins lamented with a well-rounded vibrato under Braunstein. Nézet-Séguin led a tight, fiery Allegro, and the longing wind solos during the couple’s first meeting on Juliet’s balcony left little to be desired. Still, having recently heard the Marinsky, the seas of string pianissimi had a slightly brittle quality. The orchestra redeemed itself with the clean attacks and immaculate synchrony of the whirlwind inner movement. The elegiac homage to the lovers in the final Moderato, punctuated by the theme of the warring factions, burned with tension.

The program opened with Berio’s Sequenza IXa for clarinet solo, a virtuosic yet poetic exploration that Walter Seyfarth, a player with the Philharmonic since 1985, dispatched with impressive technical control and dynamic nuance. The piece takes the form of a structured yet unstable train of thought, evolving through runs across the instrument’s full range into a kind of internal dialogue that culminates in a blaring high note which is juxtaposed with increasingly vehement melodic opposition until it is echoed in resigned resolution. Allusions to the vocalisations of Berio’s spouse and muse Cathy Berberian and saxophone-like motifs expand the clarinet’s dimensions into nearly operatic planes. While the connection of this piece with the rest of the program remained unclear—an unusual occurrence at the Philharmonic—it is heartening to watch Berio become standard fare in the German capital.

The Philharmonie at dusk

The Philharmonie on Potsdamer Platz (c) Schirmer/Berliner Philharmoniker

Is A Choral Group Required To Have Workman’s Compensation?

June 20th, 2012

By Brian Taylor Goldstein

Dear Law & Disorder:

We have a non-profit choral group. Our of local public television stations has sent us a contract to record and broadcast one of our concerts this December and they have an item that requires us to have workman’s comp on our entire group. We currently only have 3 staff employees (all part-time) and the performers themselves are not employees. As a non-profit, are we required by law to carry workman’s comp on members of our group?  We are wondering if we can sign this agreement if we don’t carry workman’s comp insurance.

First, and foremost, your non-profit status is unrelated to the issue of workers compensation. Non-profits are subject to the all the same laws, statutes, and regulations as all other businesses. Whether or not you are required to carry workers compensation depends on whether your staff and chorus members are considered independent contractors or employees. This requires an analysis of both federal law as well as the laws of your state. However, in this particular case, such an analysis may be irrelevant.

If you were to enter into a contract with the television station in which you are required to have workers compensation, then you would be agreeing to provide workers compensation whether you are legally required to do so or not. That’s really the whole point of a contract: two parties are agreeing to do things for each other they would not normally be required to do. So, regardless of what the law does or does not require, you cannot just sign the television agreement unless you plan to comply with their requirement. Otherwise, if you signed such a contract and then failed to obtain the workers compensation insurance, you would be in breach.

I suspect that, like many institutions, the television station is using form contracts and boilerplate terms that they themselves probably do not understand. Do not always assume that the other party knows more than you do! Before you do anything, I’d call the station and discuss your situation/concerns with them. Perhaps they will waive the requirement. Perhaps they can agree to allow you to purchase a general liability policy to cover your group in lieu of a workers compensation policy.

However, regardless of whether or not you are “required” to have workers compensation either as a matter of law or by a contract, consider the possibility that if a staff member, a chorus member, or a volunteer were to be injured during a performance or in providing some other service for your organization, your organization could be liable. So, I’d strongly recommend that you obtain a general liability policy to cover injuries to any of your performers, staff, or volunteers who provide services to your organization.

_________________________________________________________________

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.

__________________________________________________________________

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 Roman Candle

June 18th, 2012

by James Conlon

About a week ago I witnessed a heart-warming spectacle in Rome.

Imagine 750 kids between the ages of five and twelve, screaming, giggling, squealing with delight, singing, dancing while running on and off the stage of a theater. It lasted about an hour and ten minutes in all.  They were grouped together by age and filled almost the entire orchestra level of a theater. The adults are allowed to sit in the back and in the balcony, where the teachers could watch their students from a distance and their parents could videotape freely and take as many photos with their iPhones as their hearts desired.

Sound like a nightmare or a scene from Dante’s Inferno? Not at all.  It was the end of the year performance of a Mozart opera designed for school children. Not just to attend, but, more importantly, to learn and to participate.

Why do I say a Mozart opera? Because I actually attended, on consecutive days, two completely independent projects to introduce and cultivate a love for opera through direct participation that are thriving in Rome. One of them is produced with private and corporate sponsorship, and the other a consortium of government and private sponsors.

On a Friday evening, I attended an abridged version of Don Giovanni, and the following morning, a similar arrangement of The Magic Flute.  The Don Giovanni was produced by the Associazione Musicale Tito Gobbi. Spearheaded by the dynamic personality of the renowned baritone’s daughter Cecilia, it collaborates with schools not just in Rome, but from Umbria and all the way south to Sicily. I serve on its honorary board (mostly from a distance) so I was particularly eager to see the product.  Entitled “Magia dell’Opera” (The Magic of Opera) it defines its mission as that of planting the seeds in the new generation for the creation of future audiences. It is in its eighth season and estimates that more thirty thousand children have experienced this over the years (six to seven thousand this year).

The following morning the Rome Opera, offered its similarly conceived Magic Flute, translated into Italian. Supported by the government, this program has greater means at its disposal. It is now in its seventh year.  In its first year, four hundred students attended.  It gave thirty-four performances over the past several weeks this year and estimates that about seventeen thousand children participated.  That is forty-two times the number of students than at its starting point only a few years ago.

Children’s symphonic concerts are very important, and certainly nothing new in the U.S.  I am also aware that there are outstanding programs offered for young people by many American orchestras and opera companies. But I have never seen anything like this before, and certainly not on the scale of what is going on in Rome.

It operates on the pedagogical principle of “active” education in which the students participate. The performance is the culmination of preparation over the course of several months. A team of instructors first meets with teachers in the schools, providing an instruction book and a recording with excerpts from the opera that the children will actually sing at the performances. They commit these all to memory, just as millions of young people do with popular music. The instruction books, marvelous examples of imagination, provide background, not just about Mozart and the particular opera in question, but the history of the art form from Monteverdi to Shostakovich. There are illustrations of the classical Italian opera theater, pictures with explanation of all the instruments of the orchestra. All of this is interspersed with games, quizzes and puzzles. The characters of the opera, the texts to be sung are all included.  The students and teachers receive these months in advance. This is how they learn the subject.

The culmination is the performance. It is abridged and adapted, accompanied at the piano. A secondary benefit of the system is the opportunity afforded to young professional singers. Some are still in (or just finishing) conservatory. There is a narrator (in one case it is Mozart; in both cases dressed in period costumes) who interacts with the children, asking them questions, prompting them to call out to the characters on stage at specific moments. The children are encouraged to make their own costumes, choosing the characters they prefer.

The best moment is when they all stand up and sing together from memory–everything from Leporello’s opening lines, the enumeration of Don Giovanni’s conquests in the catalog aria to (pointing their fingers) the final chorus condemning the protagonist to his eternal punishment.  All of the choruses and music of the three children were memorized at the Magic Flute performance, with highlights being Monostatos’ little ditty, and … the Queen of the Night’s famous second act aria (!!!!). Can you imagine seven hundred children doing all of that at once!?

Between the two organizations, approximately twenty-four thousand children have seen, “sung” and “acted” in an abridged Mozart opera in the past six weeks. Both organizations said that many of the older students have been coming back for years. That means that some now have a “repertory” of seven or eighth operas.  Operas done in past years include The Barber of Seville, The Elixir of Love, Carman and La Traviata. I am sure many of these children will carry this experience through their lives. Many will return over the course of their adulthood and bring their own children. Not only is a future opera audience being built in Rome, but these children are also learning about, and ingraining, a knowledge and recognition of their cultural patrimony.

And before one says those are their roots, but not ours, let’s check our history: All of the roots of what we call Classical Music come from Italy: opera was created in Renaissance Florence, and the art of singing, church music, the first (and sometimes still best) instruments, musical notation and terminology.  Need I go on? These are our roots also.

All of this is possible in America. Perhaps programs like this already exist. If so, whoever is responsible for them deserve our gratitude and praise. We are certainly reading all about the financial troubles in Europe (parallel to our own) and Italy in particular. Yet with all of that, this is one country where they still know how to take care of their children, educating them in an imaginative and fun way.

It is very fine to scratch our heads and ask how we can build audiences, as if there is a quick fix solution to the challenge. There is not, but there is a beautiful, long-term solution–and it starts with five-year-olds. Europe’s oldest city can serve as a great model and light the way for all who want to take up this mission.