What We’ve Been Doing Lately

June 7th, 2011

By Alan Gilbert

Those of us who were involved in preparing for last year’s production of Ligeti’s Le Grand Macabre are remembering the great excitement we all felt in this very same rehearsal room as we prepare for our upcoming performances of Janáček’s opera The Cunning Little Vixen, but are also amazed at how different the space feels. This time Doug Fitch — our brilliant director/designer/costume genius — has created a fantastic, magical landscape, populated with the most gorgeous creations: animal suits, bug antennae, plants and flowers, all fashioned out of found materials and readily-available clothing. LGM (as we referred to the Ligeti) filled the studio with high-tech equipment, making it feel rather like a mad-scientists laboratory. It is a testament to Doug’s incredible range that he is able to be so convincing in such vastly varied ways. I encourage everybody to check out Doug’s Website as well as the video that was made for the Philharmonic’s site to get a real sense of this amazing artist. 

During a break in rehearsal I was talking with Daniel Boico, my terrific Assistant Conductor at the Philharmonic, about how lucky we are to have a job that can be so different from day to day. The world of theater, where we are now, is a totally different experience from what our activities last week, when we were performing and recording Time Machines, Sebastian Currier’s marvelous new violin concerto with, Anne-Sophie Mutter for Deutsche Grammophon. We literally went directly from a listening session of the first edits into a staging rehearsal for the Janáček — the contrast could not have been greater.

It is difficult to believe that only two weeks ago we wrapped up our 11-concert EUROPE / SPRING 2011 Tour which took us to nine cities. Aside from the splendid playing of the Orchestra, night after night, some of my strongest memories from the tour are of the audiences — how intensely concentrated and appreciative they were, and also how distinctly different they were from place to place, from culture to culture. Audiences may not always realize how crucial they are in creating mood in a concert, and the great influence they can make on the inspiration, or lack thereof, of the performers. Many of the Philharmonic musicians were commenting on this as the tour progressed, observing that our performances experienced subtle changes over the trip according to the atmosphere we felt in the different halls.

The Budapest audience was definitely the most shocking: they have an amazing routine that involves rhythmic clapping that gradually increases in speed. Many audiences do this, but what was unusual for us was how slowly the rhythm started; the crowd began the accelerando with such long pauses between each clap that it sounded as if they had rehearsed!

All of the audiences were very quiet during the music, but there was a special intensity we felt in Leipzig; Lisa Batiashvili, one of our soloists on the tour, said that she thinks they have “cleaner ears.”  Perhaps so, or perhaps not, but in any case there was a palpable connection that created a rare musical bond for all of us who were there.  

But now back to rehearsing Vixen: It’s taking shape wonderfully already, and everyone is excited to hear the New York Philharmonic play this luscious score. See you there!

(For more information on Alan Gilbert and the New York Philharmonic, visit nyphil.org.)

Scapegoats, Bad Girl Ballerinas, and Breathtaking Performances

June 6th, 2011

By Rachel Straus

Scapegoats. They come in all shapes and sizes, especially in climates of fear and loathing. On June 1, a Sun News broadcast journalist scape goated the Canadian-based modern dancer Margie Gillis. A recent recipient of Canada’s highest cultural honor (the Governor General’s Performing Arts Award for Lifetime Artistic Achievement), Gillis was accused in Fox News style vitriol of squandering more than $1M of taxpayer dollars for her “interpretive dancing.” Gillis didn’t know the Sun News interview was going to caste her esteemed career as a symbol of superfluous government spending. What became doubly painful was that Gillis, when faced with such an attack, made a big mistake. She explained that the money—allotted to her over several decades for educational, solo, and collaborative projects—allows her to make a sacrifice. If ever there were a poor word choice, Gillis chose the one.

Gillis stayed firm with her statement that she sacrifices, despite the broadcaster’s heckling. She said she contributes to the greater good of her culture, and creates regardless of financial rewards and recognition. She impacts all stripes of people. But she failed to admit that her work is a labor of love more than anything else.

The Sun News broadcaster must have known that it would be easy to skewer Gillis. Her devotion can be compared to a religious calling. She sees herself as a missionary. During the 20-minute interview, the Sun News editors interpolated segments of Gillis dancing in a slow motion film. The footage segment they chose to show focuses on Gillis’s ecstatic looking face, where she resembles a medieval mystic having a hallucination. Needless to say, the film segment needs contextualization, but Sun News offered none. Also shown were photos of a Gillis workshop, which she naively said fosters world peace. These snapshots revealed participants sprawling on a studio floor and cheerfully gathering in bucolic settings. They hammered home Sun News’s argument: Viewers’ tax dollars are going to mystics! To communes! To waste!

Gillis is one of the most expressive solo performers working today. But the film clip diminished her artistry. Though she remained composed while the Sun News talking head mocked her as being elitist and sacrificial, Gillis didn’t defend herself well. I wish the eloquent and intimidating Bill T. Jones had been in this hot seat. He would have ripped the blond telecaster a new one, if she had accused him of misappropriating taxpayers’ dollars. But Gillis is a better target for Canada’s (and America’s) current arts funding controversy. She’s a soft-spoken, polite, white woman. Her dances aren’t politically driven. They aren’t about race. They focus on something much more intangible. The spirit.

The Sun News team didn’t ask Gillis hard questions like, can the human spirit be danced? Is its artistic expression vital? Does it deserve tax dollars? These were the questions buried beneath the vitriol. The fact that Gillis’s work, which investigates and expresses feeling, was trashed is horrific. To see the interview click on: Sun News Broadcast

Another video delivered down the virtual rabbit hole came via New York City Ballet’s press office. Called “Make Your Move,” it serves as advertisement for “Dancer’s Choice,” the last performance of the company’s spring season in which the dancers (as opposed to Ballet Master in Chief Peter Martins) choose the repertory and cast the dancers.

While the program will feature five works by George Balanchine, Christopher Wheeldon and Angelin Preljocaj, the video, made by unnamed dancers, features six City Ballet females. By day the You Tube film shows the women being obedient, pink-tight wearing professionals, taking cues from their male rehearsal coach. By night they transform into vamps, kicking and slinking through the streets of New York with spray paint cans in hand.  With the exception of principal dancer Ashley Bouder, who is in white, the black-leather crew looks like they are ready to hit the Meat Packing district clubs. Defacing public property, they paint their logo—“make your move”—on buildings. Scoundrels!

Does this ballet narrative sound familiar? It reminded me of Darren Aronofsky’s “Black Swan” film, with its fast-editing techniques and good ballet girl/ bad ballet girl done-to-death theme. The video is also false advertising. Those who hope to see Ashley Bouder shaking her groove thing at the June 12 performance (where tickets are discounted at $25 and $50) will be sorely disappointed.

To see the Dancer’s Choice video click on Make Your Move

Last week also featured two fabulous performances. Both were intelligent, inspiring, entertaining. The first was “Misters and Sisters” by The Bang Group at Joe’s Pub on June 2. In this dancing-singing homage to love, the company’s founders David Parker and Jeff Kazin pose as long-time lovers along side Nic Petry and Amber Sloan. The soundtrack is 12 Broadway show tunes and Hollywood musical ballads, written by Rodgers and Hammerstein, Irving Berlin, and Arthur Freed (among others), which speak to heterosexual love.

Because “Misters and Sisters” celebrates homosexuality with a Mister Roger’s glee, it feels as subversive as sing-a-long. Kazin and Parker dress sometimes in drag, other times in suits. The men never aim for the grotesque, as is can be the case with cross-dressing performers. Kazin performs proficiently on pointe. Both tap with flare. They wisely leave the heavy duty partnering and contemporary dancing to their younger friends. They share stories with the audience like seasoned vaudevillians and sing like pros. You can’t help but fall in love with their quirks: Kazin’s rangy energy, Parker’s child-like smile.

In ways that are too pat to be formulaic, their dance vignettes illuminate the songs’ lyrics: “All I Do is Dream of You,” “You Were Meant for Me,” “Tea for Two.” What makes their performance memorable is their comic timing. Resuscitating these songs from late-night TV oblivion, they make them their own. This practice began more than three decades ago, when Parker and Kazin say they were dancing and singing to show tunes in their Boston family homes’ basements, unbeknownst to each other.

The second stupendous performance came from New York City Ballet at the former New York State Theater on June 3. George Balanchine’s full-length 1967 “Jewels” shows how it’s possible for a non-narrative, 80-minute work to be riveting. The conceptual thread connecting the ballet’s three segments is bling, specifically emeralds, rubies and diamonds. But here’s the ingenuity: Each stone represents a period in ballet’s history. In the Emeralds section, to music by Gabriel Fauré, Balanchine celebrates the Paris Opera Ballet, where Romantic ballets bloomed and women’s ethereal dancing became the focus. In the Rubies section, to music by Igor Stravinsky, Balanchine casts his eye on American burlesque, specifically its enticing, leg slicing, extroverted showgirls. In the Diamonds section, to music by Tchaikovsky, the Russian-born choreographer reinterprets the Russian Imperial Ballet tradition, with its phalanx of kaleidoscopically shifting dancers whose aristocratic splendor mirrored the audience composed of the Tsar, his court, and military retinue. Dancers whose performances shone the brightest were Wendy Whelan (in Diamonds), Sara Mearns (in Emeralds), and Megan Fairchild and Joaquin de Luz (performing together in Rubies).

A Work in Progress (Family calls….)

June 2nd, 2011

by Cathy Barbash

Just back from China jaunt as one of several “foreign experts” imported by the Ministry of Culture of the PRC as both window-dressing and lecturer for the International Conference on Promotion of Chinese Cultural Products. This marathon gathering began in Shenzhen, where we foreigners were herded onto the stage for the official opening ceremony, testimony to the importance of the event, but without the courtesy of meeting the presiding Chinese officials beforehand. We were then whisked away to inspect the cavernous exhibit halls, a chaotic and deafening mix of cultural products of all kinds. An afternoon visit to a satellite location (the local Poly Theatre) housing the performing arts exhibits found many unattended, and/or without materials in any language but Chinese.

Second stop was Luoyang, in Henan Province, where the foreigners lectured on their assigned topics to a group of almost 300 Chinese arts administrators and entrepreneurs from throughout the country. Most were young and enthusiastic, outgoing and, at the closing banquet, even boisterous. Last stop Beijing, with the same speeches given to a much more sedate crowd drawn from Ministry of Culture officials and administrators from the national level and Beijing arts organizations. A reserved group, mentally looking over their shoulders.

Now comes word that a high level Chinese delegation has arrived in the U.S. to study public diplomacy, in theory and in practice, and perhaps to engage in a private listening tour of what Americans really do think of the Chinese, unfiltered by the media.

Apologies, but much more on all this later, I’m off again to visit my daughter in the Peace Corps…..

Mad dogs and Englishmen

June 2nd, 2011

by Keith Clarke

When Noël Coward told us that mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun, he had sunnier climes than England in mind. Proof positive of the national madness is the sheer number of al fresco events taking place in a country where you don’t know from one day to the next whether you will be needing a sun shade or galoshes and a sou’wester.

When Garsington Opera first set up shop in an eccentric banker’s back garden, there was a covering of sorts for the audience, though those at the sides were in the firing line for any passing showers, and the performers were completely at the mercy of the elements. Now that the banker has passed away – victim of a heart attack at the wheel of his car as he drove back from Glyndebourne –  and his widow has claimed her garden back, the company has moved to the Getty family’s Wormsley Estate in Buckinghamshire, where tonight it will unveil its first ever production in the new home, The Magic Flute.

That production will be reviewed at the front end of this fine site in due course, but let me just add a little more background on the madness.

The new Opera Pavilion has all the appearance of a permanent structure, yet it will only be gracing the estate’s deer park for the length of Garsington’s short season. It takes 12-15 workers four weeks to construct the thing, and another four weeks to knock it down again. With a national minimum wage of getting on for $10 an hour, that begins to look a bit pricey, before taking into account the eye-watering rent the Getty estate is charging.

Is that mad? Of course it is. Gloriously so. And come rain or shine I for one will be cheering loudly for those who dare to think outside the box and do something completely crazy in the pursuit of first-class music-making.

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The ever entertaining Michael White writes in the Daily Telegraph of the ”appalling news” that sales of ukuleles have risen faster in the past 12 months than purchases of any other instrument, outstripping keyboards and acoustic guitars. “Very depressing,” says Michael, who goes on to point the finger for this state of affairs:

J’accuse:

1. The Ukelele Orchestra of Great Britain, which rose inexplicably to prominence a couple of years ago plink-plonking its way through arrangements of Beethoven’s 9th.

2. The Proms, which encouraged the UOGB in its assaults on Beethoven and (worse still) organised online tutorials so that thousands of others – innocent and harmless people, most of them – could share this evil practice.

Poor Michael, he’s clearly jealous that he can’t get his podgy fingers round this charming little instrument. For let it be revealed, I was one of those innocent and harmless people who shared the evil practice, and went on BBC Television News to share my enthusiasm. Why, I even blogged my hesitant progress.

The old uke has been neglected of late, but I feel encouraged by Michael’s assault to dust it off and give it another twang.

Getting to Know You (writing a good bio)

June 2nd, 2011

by Edna Landau

To ask a question, please write Ask Edna.

Please note that in the months of June, July and August, I will be posting new entries to this blog on a bi-weekly basis. I am grateful to all of you for your interest in “Ask Edna” and wish you a very pleasant summer.

Dear Edna:

What do you think makes for a good bio these days (from an artist management point of view)? I’m sick of reading bios that are either A. Boring (laundry lists of accolades, credits, quotes and not conveying something distinctive) OR B. Overly chatty/personal (some non-classical bios are like this, as are musical theatre bios typically). —a management colleague

Dear management colleague:

I think a good bio is one that provides only as much information as is necessary to capture the attention of the reader and keep them engrossed until the end. It should come across as professional, be well written and well organized. It should find a good balance between sharing important factual information and also giving the reader a glimpse of what is special about the person it spotlights. It should whet the appetite of the reader to experience the subject’s artistry and to get to know them better, either by presenting them, hearing them or listening to their music making.

The first sentence and paragraph of a bio should help place the artist among their peers and highlight some recent significant accomplishments. This is not achieved by the all too typical introduction that reads something like this: Joe Smith was born in Buffalo, New York in 1984 and began to study violin at the age of five with his father. The opening of the bio should also avoid any grandiose statement that is out of proportion to the artist’s career. As Ellen Highstein has written in her book Making Music in Looking Glass Land, “ the expression ‘one of the foremost pianists of our day’ is only appropriate for someone who is undeniably one of the foremost pianists of our day.”

Here are some opening sentences that grabbed my attention when I surveyed a sampling of bios of young artists with burgeoning careers:

“Internationally renowned as a brilliant innovator of the classical guitar, Paul Galbraith has been working since the 1980’s towards expanding the technical limits of his instrument, besides augmenting the quantity and quality of its repertoire.”

“Born in Los Angeles in 1981, composer and performer Gabriel Kahane is a peerless musical polymath, invested in the worlds of concert, theater and popular music.”

“Formed in 1984 by four prize-winning graduates of the Conservatoire National Superieur de Paris, the Parisii Quartet won early acclaim with its triumphs at three major international competitions: Banff (1986), Munich (1987) and Evian (1987). Invitations followed from the major concert halls and festivals of Europe, and the Parisii has since toured regularly throughout Europe and the United Kingdom.”

“An accomplished young conductor and pianist, Kelly Kuo has had tremendous success working with both singers and instrumentalists in the United States and abroad in a broad spectrum of repertoire including nearly 60 operas spanning the 17th through 21st centuries. He is the recipient of a 2009 Solti Foundation U.S. Career Assistance Award for young conductors.

“Dubbed a ‘Classical Rock Star’ by the press, cellist Joshua Roman has earned a national reputation for performing a wide range of repertoire with an absolute commitment to communicating the essence of the music at its most organic level. For his ongoing creative initiatives on behalf of classical music, he has been selected as a 2011 TED Fellow, joining a select group of Next Generation innovators who have shown unusual accomplishments and the potential to positively affect the world.”

You are totally correct that nothing is more boring than to wade through a laundry list of endless credits until one’s eyes glaze over. Performance credits should be limited to significant debuts and tours, recent and upcoming engagements, recent recordings, commissioned works, and perhaps some mention of associations with other artists, especially conductors, who may have played an important role in an artist’s career. They might also include examples of an artist engaging in outreach or charitable activities. The artist’s achievements should always be summarized in reverse chronological order so that the reader doesn’t have to navigate through several seasons to get to the most recent and significant accomplishments.

It is important to include dates of various performances and milestones in the artist’s career. I read a bio of a soprano which began: “Most recently heard worldwide in the Sirius Satellite Metropolitan Opera broadcast of Puccini’s Tosca…” None of the artist’s numerous accomplishments were associated with dates anywhere in the remainder of the bio. A quick visit to YouTube showed significant clips from 3-4 years ago so I could deduce that the artist was still quite active. This was reinforced by a vist to Ask.Com that indicated that satellite radio was introduced around 2004. However, this is far more research than should be expected from the reader of an artist’s bio.

The bios of all of the artists mentioned above remained compelling and informative to the end. They never became “chatty” but I enjoyed learning that Gabriel Kahane makes his home in Brooklyn, New York, “in close company with a century-old piano and many books” and that conductor/pianist/vocal coach, Kelly Kuo, began his musical studies on the violin at the age of five, made his debut as a pianist five years later, but also later trained as a clarinetist. Today he has become a champion of contemporary music and has edited scores for two of Jake Heggie’s operas. None of the bios mentioned family members, as musical theatre bios so often do. I have no problem with a bio that does include such information, especially if the artist feels that their family is a major source of support to them in their career and that they bring balance and meaning to a life that can often involve long stretches of lonely time on the road.

The bottom line is that interesting artists have interesting bios. They don’t need to create heft in their bio by citing long lists of engagements. Artists who are still pretty young in their careers can prudently include brief quotes or phrases that pay tribute to their gifts and should focus on sharing with the reader their intense dedication to their chosen profession, the efforts they are expending to share their love of performing with new audiences, their joy in helping to expand the repertoire for their instrument (if applicable), and the other aspects of their lives that are important to them and that contribute to the persona they bring with them when they walk out on stage. If their bio conveys both humility and ambition, and reflects a sense of excitement and privilege at being able to pursue life as a performer, the reader will want to embark on the journey with them and support them as they reach new heights and become better known.

To ask a question, please write Ask Edna.

© Edna Landau 2011

The Ballet World and the Star System

May 31st, 2011

By Rachel Straus

In 1955 the British dance critic R. J. Austin calculated that American Ballet Theatre, whose roster of choreographers continually changed, would focus on it star dancers to solidify its reputation as a premier ballet company. Austin calculated right. Today ABT is powerful because of its stupendous dancers, whether they’re on the masthead or employed as guest artists for only a season.

On May 21, throngs descended on the Metropolitan Opera House to see David Hallberg dance Basilio, the poor barber, across from guest artist Polina Semionova, dancing the headstrong Kitri, in “Don Quixote.” On May 28, Hallberg played Prince Albrecht to guest artist Alina Cojocaru’s Giselle in the eponymous ballet. What seemed to matter to audiences (and critics) in these full-length ballets, where fifty plus dancers performed, was the performance of these principal dancers. The audiences got their money’s worth. Semionova, Cojocaru and Hallberg are at their peak of their artistry.

Hallberg dances like he is in the act of discovery. He has mastered ballet technique to the point that he plays with steps, rather than merely executing them. His confidence as an actor grows nightly. As Basilio he was all brio, showing unswerving confidence that he could win Kitri, despite all those rich suitors. As Albrecht, Hallberg dances as innocently as Cojocaru’s Giselle, whose heart he breaks and who saves him from The Wilis that are bent on his destruction. When Hallberg sequentially scissors his legs in the air six times, he resembles Christ suspended on the cross. His arms stretch wide, his expression is deathly. Hallberg’s face as much as his legs reveal his passion, his fear that if he stops dancing the Queen of The Wilis will kill him.

But Hallberg’s ability to create meaning isn’t what ticket holders, at least those I spoke to, are discussing. Hallberg’s technique and beautiful leg line are the points that dominate the conversation. Balletomanes are comfortable objectifying dancers and reducing ballets to its dancing stars. The choreography takes a back seat to discussions about virtuosity, and how principal dancers’ performances measure up to other principal dancers’. And that is a problem, if you consider a dance an artwork, in which the movement of every one on stage imbues the work with expressive value.

This complaint about ballet being reduced to stars and their tricks is as old as Jean-Georges Noverre (1727-1810). The French dancer and ballet master argued in “Lettres on Dancing and Ballets” (1760) for creating a ballet whose power lays in the sum of its parts. The ballet master, writes Noverre, has a responsibility to the entire work:

“Without forgetting the principal players in the piece, he should give consideration to the performers as a body; if he concentrate his attention on the premières danseuses and premiers danseurs, the action becomes tedious, the progress of the scenes drawn out, and the execution has no power of attraction.”

Kevin McKenzie’s staging of “Giselle” ocassionally grows tedious. It’s not that the ensemble dancers in the village scene of Act I don’t perform their steps beautifully. It’s that their steps convey little about the village life in which their dancing is supposed to express. The villagers dance much like The Wilis, who are ghosts! In both scenes, the dancers perform ballet steps.

So why didn’t McKenzie create folk dances and take the women off their pointe shoes for the village scene? Because audiences want to see virtuosity, even among the corps dancers, and because ballet dancers want to perform ballet steps so that they can have a shot of performing the roles of Giselle and Albrecht some day. Unfortunately, the plot of “Giselle” gets ground down by this assembly line standardization of choreography, which churns out a few principal dancers who can dazzle with their turns and leaps. This keeps the audiences focused on the sport of dance, which tends to sap the overall quality and meaning of a ballet.

For those who toil

May 26th, 2011

by Keith Clarke

Music critics don’t always have the fondest place in musicians’ affections but you have to admire their stamina. OK, our stamina, since I’m a paid-up member of the motley crew, so beware a little self-regard, but I’m thinking about the brave souls who work for the daily papers and have to do the arts editor’s bidding, for good or ill.

Last week I cast an eye over my colleagues doing three hours of Britten in London on Thursday, the same colleagues doing three hours of Mozart in Cardiff on Friday, knowing that they would be on duty at Glyndebourne on Saturday for a performance of Meistersinger that started at 2.55pm and ended at 9.40pm. OK, you get a long interval at Glyndebourne, so that everyone can get through their foie gras and Dom Perignon without fear of indigestion, but you get my drift.

I excused myself from the Wagner, for reasons best kept between me and my urologist. But as I raised a leisurely glass or two on Saturday evening, I felt honor bound to toast those who toiled.

Of course, musicians have every right to stamp in here and say “What about us?” They are the ones putting in the real effort, night after night, while we sit on our fat butts then file a bit of pontification. But we know the blood, sweat and tears that go into performance, whereas journalists are generally looked on as lazy sons and daughters of bitches who spend their whole lives standing around quaffing other people’s liquor. Like the man said, “Journalism? It’s better than working.” Sometimes it just doesn’t feel that way.

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On the subject of being excused from Wagner, we asked one of our Classical Music magazine scribes to come up with Top Ten accessories for musicians for our June 4 edition and he rather controversially included a Shewee, a device enabling ladies to discreetly answer the call of nature. He reports: “An acquaintance recently told me of her dread of playing Götterdämmerung at the Royal Opera House, not because of any difficulties in Wagner’s score but because of the prologue and first act’s two-hour running time.”

Apparently the Shewee was pressed into service with great success. Whether the conductor was aware of fumblings beneath long skirts as the music soared goes unreported.

To Thine Own Self Be True

May 26th, 2011

by Edna Landau 

To ask a question, please write Ask Edna.

This column was prepared with the assistance of Neale Perl, President of the Washington Performing Arts Society, and Ruth Felt, President of San Francisco Performances. Both are valued longtime colleagues, to whom I am very grateful.

Dear Edna:

I am a pianist and have just completed my second year at an American conservatory. I am hoping that I will be fortunate enough to pursue a solo career. I read your article [Getting Noticed in the 21st Century] in the 2011 Musical America International Directory of the Performing Arts and have taken to heart your message that so much of the challenge of succeeding as a performer lies in getting noticed. I have been thinking about this, specifically in relation to programming. My focus has been on learning major repertoire pieces that every pianist should know. Do you think that is a mistake? Should I also be exploring works that are quite rarely performed so that I will stand out from the crowd? —K.P.

Dear K.P.:

Your question is a good one, which will probably be of interest to many other young musicians, regardless of their instrument.

It is my firm belief that no matter what one’s objective might be, a cardinal principle is to remain true to oneself. Throughout your career,  the repertoire you choose should be repertoire you can’t wait to explore and master. There is no list of pieces that every pianist should know. You are fortunate that you have a huge amount from which to choose. In the case of concerto repertoire, it is advisable to keep in your fingers a certain number of pieces that are considered to be “standard repertoire” because that is what most orchestras will want. However, if you are drawn to less often performed repertoire or a relatively unknown concerto that you feel deserves a wider audience, this could prove to be a useful vehicle for gaining exposure. When Murray Perahia was in the early stages of his career, he decided upon the Mendelssohn concertos for his first recording. As far as I recall, he and his manager felt that he should be introduced in concertos for which he felt a great affinity but which had not been overly recorded. Pianist Marc-Andre Hamelin’s earliest concerto recordings featured works by Adolf von Henselt, Charles-Valentin Alkan, Joseph Marx, and Erich Korngold. However, this was no gimmick on Mr. Hamelin’s part. He was introduced to a great deal of unusual repertoire, including Alkan, by his father who was also a pianist.

In these times, when opportunities to play recitals on established series are fewer than they used to be, and when recital reviews for less than superstars are an increasing rarity, considerable attention should be given to one’s chosen program in hopes that it will pique a presenter’s or critic’s interest. There are various ways to do this while still remaining true to one’s repertoire strengths:

  • Round out a familiar program with an unexpected rarity. By way of example, here is a program that cellist Sol Gabetta will perform on the Washington Performing Arts Society’s Kreeger String Series at the Kennedy Center next February: Schumann Fantasiestücke, Shostakovich Sonata in D Minor, Mendelssohn Sonata in D Major, Servais Fantaisie sur deux Airs Russes. The Servais adds a nice symmetry to the program, creating a sort of “fantasy” sandwich with some “meaty” substance in between!
  • Choose a program that includes music from various periods, but not the most obvious composers or works. I like the following program, chosen by pianist Nareh Arghamanyan for her San Francisco Performances recital next April: Clementi Sonata in F# minor; Schubert Four Impromptus, Op. 90; Rachmaninoff Variations on a Theme by Corelli; and Balakirev’s Islamey.
  • If you were born in a foreign country, you might want to showcase music of your homeland or native region. Audiences always seem to welcome the introduction to something new, perhaps even exotic. The young Moroccan pianist, Marouan Benabdallah, is offering two pieces by Nabil Benabdeljalil in his Carnegie Hall (Zankel Hall) recital debut this evening.
  • Offer a program of works that have an internal connection. For his Carnegie Hall (Weill Recital Hall) debut this October, pianist Kit Armstrong is offering selections by two composers—Liszt and Bach—including Liszt’s Fantasy and Fugue in G Minor (after J.S. Bach) and his Variations on the Bach cantata “Weinen, Klagen, Sorgen, Zagen.”
  • Offer a program that includes a newly commissioned work or unusual transcription. Violinist Giora Schmidt’s recital at the Ravinia Festival this summer will include a transcription for solo violin of Liszt’s B Minor piano sonata. The transcription is the work of Mr. Schmidt’s piano collaborator in the recital, Noam Sivan.

These types of programs lend themselves very well to some spoken words from the stage. Your audience wlll undoubtedly welcome some introductory comments about how you made your choices and perhaps what they might especially want to listen for.

None of the above rules out you playing a program of your favorite sonatas by Mozart, Beethoven, and Chopin if that is what you feel you do best, but in the early years of your career, you might reserve that program for cities where you are returning to an audience that is already enthusiastic about your artistry. I should also mention that if you are planning on selling a recording following the performance, you might want to include one of the works on the recording in your program so as to heighten the possibility that the audience will want to “take you home with them.”

While you are still in your conservatory years, it would be wise to solicit suggestions from your teachers, as well as guest artists who may be offering master classes or conductors working with your school orchestra, regarding unusual repertoire that you might explore. If you have the opportunity to meet people who write about music or audiophiles who may be a treasure trove of information about recordings that are long out of print, they may be a source of wonderful ideas. You may find yourself planning a program that offers your favorite Mozart sonata alongside a piece by his Czech contemporary, Leopold Kozeluch, or pairing a Bach suite with Max Reger’s Variations and Fugue on a Theme of J.S. Bach. The possibilities are endless, with YouTube showcasing many gems waiting to be more broadly discovered.

To ask a question, please write Ask Edna.

© Edna Landau 2011

The Seven Deadly Sins at City Ballet

May 24th, 2011

By Rachel Straus

New York City Ballet’s new staging of  “The Seven Deadly Sins,” which had its premiere at the company’s spring gala on May 11,  puts Kurt Weill and Bertolt Brecht’s dark, sinister “ballet chanté” of 1933 into a new context: a tinsel-town soundstage, complete with unison hoofers in the grand finale. Choreographer Lynn Taylor-Corbett, whose credits include Broadway’s “Swing,” has essentially created a Cliff Notes version of this irony-laced yarn, dragging  principal dancer Wendy Whelan and guest artist Patti Lapone through seven shallow scenes of human transgression and stripping the work of its brooding soul.

In the original 1933 production, choreographed by George Balanchine for Les Ballets 1933, singer Lotte Lenya and dancer Tilly Losch were presented as Anna I and II, yin yang composites of the same woman. The fact that Lenya and Losch bore a striking resemblance to each other, and were about the same age, probably helped Kurt Weill and Bertold Brecht’s scenario. It concerns the Annas experiencing seven American cities, encountering seven “deadly” sins, and struggling with each other’s opposite personalities.

When Balanchine revived the work in 1958, he cast the 21-year-old Allegra Kent across from the significantly older Lenya. New York Times dance critic John Martin dubbed the production  “a stunning revival of a minor masterpiece.” But not all critics concurred, though the vision of Kent carried aloft on a human-size plate wearing just lingerie lingered in the mind, says dance writer Deborah Jowitt.

Balanchine was never afraid of being naughty. He also wasn’t afraid of “Seven Deadly” dissapearing after its run. No one filmed the performance. This may say more about what Balanchine thought of his “minor masterpiece” than City Ballet’s capacity to film performances in the 1950s. But this point is conjecture.

Now flash forward 60 years. At a City Ballet studio event, Lynn Taylor-Corbett suggests to Peter Martins that she make a reintepreted revival of “Seven Deadly Sins.” With a penchant for commercially-driven projects, Martins agrees to the venture and to Taylor-Corbett’s casting of the matronly-looking Patty Lapone, who sings like a battle ax, and the bone-thin Wendy Whelan, who dances like a steely wraith. The hope was that the project would bring in new audiences (read Broadway ticket holders). At the gala, I did see Matthew Broderick arm and arm with his wife Sarah Jessica Parker.

Unfortunately, on stage Whelan and Lapone never formed a convincing relationship, twin-like, sisterly, or otherwise. Lapone mostly stood on the sidelines, serving as singing narrator. Whelan danced Taylor-Corbett’s forgettable choreography, becoming a pawn rather than a protagonist in the rapidly unfolding events.

The greatest interest in Taylor-Corbett’s ballet was Beowulf Boritt’s sets of seven cities. In Memphis, where the sin is “Pride,” Whelan flitted about in imitation of Isadora Duncan during an audition for a sleeze-style cabaret. The black and red décor said bordello, as did the lighting by Jason Kantrowitz. In San Francisco, where the sin was “Envy,” Boritt’s backdrop of quaint Victorian row houses against a boundless blue sky was enviable. In Baltimore, where the sin was “Greed,” Boritt created a salon, channelling both Phillipe Starck’s overblown modernism and the Belle Epoque’s love of patterns. From two gargantuan black and white striped, tasseled love seats, Anna’s overfed suitors embarked on a mutually fatal duel.

As for Taylor-Corbett’s choreography, it lacked movement invention or good movement imitation. In Boston, where the sin was “Lust,” Whelan and Craig Hall peformed a romantic pas de deux.  Muscular and in a wife beater, Hall looked like Marlon Brando in Elia Kazan’s film version of “Street Car Named Desire.” He lifted Whelan aloft in shapes and transitions that looked exactly like moments in Christopher Wheeldon’s “After the Rain”—which Whelan and Hall perform frequently.

Following the performance, this reviewer read the Brecht text, which was translated into English by W.H. Auden and Chester Kallman. What crystalized from the text, but not from Taylor-Corbett’s production, is that the production hinges on demonstrating the conflict between the Annas: Anna I wants money and power; Anna II wants love and a creative outlet. Also, Anna II allows Anna I to push her around. But only in the last scene of Taylor-Corbett’s work is their conflict delivered without a doubt and Anna II emerges triumphant. As Anna II  (Whelan) collapses in front of her families’ spiffy new home, Anna I (Lapone) walks up the stairs in a mink, looking like a character from “The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills.”

The gala’s second half was devoted to Balanchine’s “Vienna Waltzes,” which premiered at the 1977 City Ballet gala.  If you don’t care for the music of Johann Strauss II, Franz Lehar, or Richard Strauss or for watching a carousel vision of dancers waltzing for 46 minutes, this ballet may not be for you. But despite the work’s repetitiousness, “Waltzes” is visual spendor at its finest;  Karinska’s five sets of costumes, ranging from full-skirted 1860s crinoline ball gowns to sleek white silk Roaring Twenties dresses are a fashionista’s delight.

In the pit, Clotilde Otranto energetically conducted such ditties as the “Explosions-Polka” and excerpts from “Der Rosenkavalier.” Principals Maria Korowski, Jennifer Ringer and Megan Fairchild demonstrated their strikingly differing styles through the same steps. That said all City Ballet dancers waltz with a brilliant elegance.

An Ode to Audra

May 19th, 2011

by Sedgwick Clark

Carnegie Hall celebrated its 120th birthday party on May 5. Some thought it could have waited five years, but I would welcome a Carnegie fête every night if Audra McDonald were singing. On this evening she sang four Duke Ellington songs with the New York Philharmonic and once again revealed that her emotional truth in any music she sings is blinding. Her four-year gig on TV’s Private Practice ends this season, and her manager reports “a bunch of concerts scheduled between now and Thanksgiving.” This includes a Carnegie concert all her own on October 22, which is as great a cause for rejoicing as any I know. If there is a more entrancing singer in the world, I’m not aware of her (or him).

This was one of Philharmonic Music Director Alan Gilbert’s best nights.

His well-judged celebratory program began with a rousing Dvořák Carnival Overture and continued with a downright bubbly Beethoven Triple Concerto, garnished with an unbeatable trio of cellist Yo-Yo Ma, violinist Gil Shaham, and pianist Emanuel Ax. His Ellington accompaniments had just the right elegant swing. I couldn’t stay for Gershwin’s An American in Paris, but I’m told I shouldn’t miss the PBS broadcast on May 31. You shouldn’t either.

Dutoit’s All-Stravinsky
Two nights before, the Philadelphia Orchestra’s first Carnegie Hall concert since its board filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy (April 27 blog) was an all-Stravinsky program conducted by Charles Dutoit. There were bravos amidst the applause as concertmaster David Kim walked onstage, and some members of the audience stood, to the evident pleasure of the musicians. The performances, however, were mixed. Dutoit’s devitalized Apollo sorely lacked balletic verve; moreover, except for Kim’s bewitching violin solos, the string ensemble sounded unaccountably coarse and monochromatic. Things improved immeasurably in the opera-oratorio Oedipus Rex, which was conducted with a taut sense of drama, played with power and rhythmic acuity, and sung effectively by Paul Groves (Oedipus) and Petra Lang (Jocasta), in particular, and the Men of the Philadelphia Singers Chorale. David Howey was the appropriately haughty narrator.

Curse of the Proofreader
Poor Igor. In recent years his last name has become one of classical music’s most frequent typos. The Times review head of the Philly concert shouted out in 26-pt. boldface type: “A Stravinksy Program With Ancient Inspiration.”

Have any commentators pointed out that the license plate of The Royal Newlyweds’ car did not read “JUST WED,” but “JU5T WED”? One hopes it’s not a harbinger of thrings to come.

And then there was the “beautification” of Pope John II on the TV. Good lord.