"Popular" music

Two articles over the past two days struck me. First was the announcement that Beverly Sills would be resigning from her post as chairman of the Met. The second was an interesting assessment of the Leonard Bernstein Young Peoples Concert's, recently released on DVD, by Tim Riley on his blog.

Both articles bring back memories of my youth. I remember vividly the one performance I saw of Beverly Sills in the opera house (it was a Barber of Seville at NY City Opera), but more than that I remember her as a very vivid presence in cultural life. Bernstein I also caught at the tail end of his career as composer and conductor.

The point is that even before I knew much more about classical music than Beethoven wrote a 5th Symphony and Bugs Bunny sang Figaro, these two were within my cultural consciousness. In that era (the early 70s by my guess) classical music and art was represented (albeit begrudgingly and minutely) in mass media. This was the era where you could see an opera singer fairly regularly on the Tonigh show (anyone remmeber William Walker?), Mike Douglas or Merv Griffin and Sunday afternoons brought the occasional classical music offering on commercial TV. Leonard Bernstein had the Young People's Concerts on CBS, Beverly Sills briefly had a (non-operatic) talk show on WNBC in NY and did a prime time special with Carol Burnett and Zero Mostel played Gianni Schicchi on TV.

The idea that classical music is elitist and should be left to public television or radio (which in the US has abandoned it as well) galls me a bit. Leonard Bernstein was very good about breaking down such walls. As Tim Riley writes:

Only a showman could make Haydn slow movements breath with such relevance. Along the way, he tore down every elitist assumption he could think of, beginning with the idea that the classical music need be somber (an entire lecture on "Humor in Music"), or exists in a sacred vacuum, detached from popular styles ("The Latin-American Spirit").

I also dislike the term "popularize". Bernstein was able to break through the "elitist" moniker without sacrificing the integrity of music. When the Andrea Bocellis, Sarah Brightmans (who have their place, I grant you) pass for classical music on public TV, I despair. What we need are intelligent, passionate advocates, who can perform the same functions as the Bernsteins or (evoking an earlier era) the Walter Damrosch's tried in American culture. Michael Tilson Thomas is trying it in San Francisco, but one wishes that more money and more effort were funnelled to this kind of effort.

Amateur or professional?

I often wonder what to call myself. Although I'm no longer actively pursuing a vocal career, I still consider myself a professional singer, in so far as I pretty much only sing in public if I'm paid for it, or at least if the level of the performance is "professional." I don't think that this is vanity. As a person who has worked on a professional level with opera companies, concert organizations and symphony orchestras, it is very difficult to work on any other level. I've tried singing with purely amateur organizations and the experience is generally just too frustrating to be productive. I've found that in most cases I either have to change my way of working or I have to alter the basic sound that I make, to more closely match the less trained voices of my colleagues and inevitably cause strain on my instrument.

It's not that I have anything against amateurs either. I've very supportive of amateur groups. If it weren't for opportunities in amateur organizations I would not have developed the love and ability that I have. I also think that it is an important part of all musical life to have a volunteer component and to foster volunteerism.

But there is a distinct difference between the amateur and professional musician. One area that I feel increasingly pushed to defend is the amateur vs. the professional chorus. There is a distinct difference and I think it is very important that professional choruses remain part of the musical fabric of our cities and churches. I've heard some very good amateur choirs but with very few exceptions, juxtaposed with an all-pro choir, the deficiencies show up clearly. The differences are not only vocal, although that is an important component. It also shows in the basic musicianship and ability of the voices to learn the music, respond to a conductor and to phrase music in anything more than the most basic manner.

When I once felt overworked and complained about trying to balance my full-time day job and my choir job, the person I was talking to wondered why. "Church choir singing is just a sing-a-long." After a withering stare, I calmly tried to explain that singing in a professional choir required strong musicianship skills, ability to sight-read difficult music and to work as part of a ensemble to balance voice colors and volumes. It has taken many years of study and experience to get to the point where I am now and I consider that I'm still learning (I'm 10x better a musician than I was 10 years ago). To achieve that level of ability and consistency takes more than a "sing-along".

Am I professional musician? Yes and very proud of it.

What is an Obit?

Terry Teachout has stirred up a bit of a hornet's nest with his frank comments on the death of Johnny Carson.

Recently there was an argument on the Opera-L list on the nature of an obituary as to whether it should be a positive tribute or a frank reapraisal of a person's life (this prompted by some frank assessment of Renata Tebaldi's career). There are plenty of places for unstinting praise, but I think an obituary (in a newspaper no less) is not one of them. I think it does a disservice to unreservedly praise someone upon their demise. "I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him" I think has it right. An obituary is a form of closure and sometimes that is painful.

As for Carson, I enjoyed him and occasionally pull out my videotape of that second to last show to remember. I basically stopped watching the Tonight Show after he left. For a while I watched Letterman, but eventually, and as I got older and had to be at work at a reasonable hour, I went to bed earlier.

He WAS an important figure in the 60s and 70s, for the help that he gave to aspiring comics (many of whom we've heard these past few days) and for his style, which like his show was light, breezy and insubstantial. While those of us who watched him will remain fond of him, I think that to this and future generations he is largely irrelevant. I expect he'll remain an entry in the history of television (like Sid Caesar and Howdy Doody), but time moves on and in a decade or so they'll be asking Johnny who? Sad perhaps, but it doesn't diminsh my memories and appreciation.

Audiences

Alex Ross writes about the need for some to have totally quiet audience in the concert hall (Noise's Off). I have to admit to being a shusher, primarily because I believe the artists, music and audience deserve our respect and attention. Those who insist on disturbing it with chatter, commentary or extraneous noises (cell phones, beepers et. al.) I consider just disrespectful to their fellow audience members and to the artists working their tails off in front of us.

This was brought home to be this afternoon, having been part of one of the the most polite and attentive audiences in my experience of concert going in NY. Granted we were hearing an extraordinary performance of Das Lied von der Erde and the Carter Variations for Orchestra (with Anne Sophie von Otter not disappointing one bit in deputizing for an indisposed Lorraine Hunt Lieberson), but even then the 30 second silence after Das Lied surprised me. The pauses between movements were a torrent of coughs but that didn't matter at all given the rapt attention to Der Abschied.

Good bye Johnny

I guess I'm "of a certain age" in that I remember Johnny Carson's show with fondness. It was part of my college routine and I remember vividly that last second-to-last show with Bette Midler and Robin Williams (which introduced me to one of my now favorite songs "Here's that Rainy Day").

He retired with dignity and left us lots of memories. Here's (to) Johnny!

Did you enjoy that?

After listening to the NY Philharmonic's premiere of Mark-Anthony Turnage's Scherzoid while driving home from dinner, my wife asked me if I enjoyed that piece. I stammered for a few seconds and finally answered that while I enjoyed certain details of it (which seems to me to owe a lot to Rite of Spring), I appreciated more than enjoyed the piece at this listening. I don't think that satisified her, or me for that matter.

While my heart lies with music from an earlier time (Romantic and Baroque mostly), as a trained musician, I appreciate a lot about contemporary pieces. I listen with a musician's ear and appreciate the niceties of form, of color and technique that make up a piece. But do I really enjoy them?

The answer is yes, but the way that I listen and appreciate a piece might be different. I don't think that I can grasp the full measure of a new piece listening on a car radio while managing traffic on the Garden State Parkway. For me it takes close attention, using all of the listening and technical tools that I have gained over the years. It might require several repetitions for me to get the gist of a piece, but ultimately, depending of course on the quality of the piece, its sway will take hold of me and perhaps in spite of myself and my romantic roots, I do enjoy it. I plan to give Turnage's piece at least another listen when it is available on the NY Philharmonic Broadcast page (from Jan. 19-Feb. 2) because I do think that it has things within it that I might enjoy.

As for other recent music, I enjoy much of Ned Rorem's output (not just the songs). I enjoyed Harbison's The Great Gatsby at the Met a few seasons back and Martin David Levy's Mourning Becomes Electra, last season at New York City Opera. In college and after, I enjoyed performing new music and miss that activity now that it doesn't come my way often. Ultimately I think, while getting to know and appreciate new music might require a little work, I believe the pay-off is great.

Opening out of town...

I was having dinner with a friend the other night, who observed to me that Broadway had essentially become irrelevant to New Yorkers (Manhattanites in particular). Because she is an avowed "disliker" of musicals, I took that observation with a little grain of salt, but it turns out that after all she was probably right. An article in today's NY Times highlights a League of American Theaters and Producers report that shows that New York City residents account for only 16.7 percent of Broadway ticket sales.

That is a sad fact I think, but I guess not really surprising in view of the predominance of the star-driven musical as the catalyst for Broadway ticket sales. Apart from The Producers there really hasn't been a Tony Winning Best Musical worth the title in years. There have been fine plays of course, but these are increasingly not viable in the current commercial Broadway environment. It seems like these are better off, from a financial (and dare I say, artistic) standpoint Off-Broadway.

I'm doubly saddened after watching Rick McKay's Broadway - The Golden Age, by the Legends Who Were There. I cried watching this, not only for their dedication for their craft and the thrill of performing, but also for what we have lost. (Sorry to be a pessimist today)

On hiatus...

For the first time in memory, there will be no live Metropolitan Opera broadcast this Saturday. The Met is on hiatus and for two weeks they will be historical broadcasts rather than live. We get treated to a Tales of Hoffman with Nicolai Gedda this week and an Aida with Price, Bergonzi, Bumbry and Merrill next week. I personally don't mind the break, especially since the season is extended to take it into consideration, and if it provides the performing forces a chance for a few extra rehearsals, then that's fine.

I don't remember which Met broadcast was my first, but they were a regular part of my youth. My first paying job was to set up the chairs every Saturday afternoon converting a gym to a Catholic church (I was paid $25 a week). Each Saturday I'd walk up to the church with my portable radio in tow (no boomboxes then) and listen to the week's broadcast. Often I would bellow along in the empty hall (sometimes surprised by a visiting priest or parishoner). It is an important and cherished memory for me. Even if I don't listen as regularly any more, my life would be severely diminished without them. Here is how to help save them.

Speaking of streaming....

WQXR, the NY classical station and previously one the most listened to internet radio streams (no. 3 in this survey), was not streaming for a few weeks and re-emerged, using RadioAOL and RadioNetscape. This means that AOL users can stream indefinitely and users with an AIM or Netscape ID can listen to a stream up to two hours at a time. Two hours is probably enough, but as of today I haven't been able to get either player (which are actually the same player) to work.

It's their dime of course, but since WQXR is a commercial station it seems to me that by not "limiting" their audience to those with an ID, would potentially lower their "most-listened to" ranking and therefore decrease potential advertisers audience. I may be off base here, not knowing the value of internet audience in advertising schemes, so I'd appreciate being enlightened (via the comments link).

NY's other pseudo-classical station (WNYC) usually has a good stream (and which I generally boycott after its abandonment of daytime classical music), but it gave out for me when I was trying to hear Terry Teachout on Soundcheck.

Still in awe of the wonders of the internet

Some things I take for granted. But every now and again I'm still in awe of what I can now do that wouldn't have been possible a few years ago.

I used to come to work mornings and listen to BBC3 (I'm in New York City, BTW). This past summer I was able to catch many of the Proms concerts either live or as an archive feed.

My company intranet is blocking the BBC now (I hope its fixed by next summer), so today I'm enjoying the Count Basie orgy. If you don't know about the orgies, every year during Harvard exam periods the Harvard Radio station WHRB broadcasts orgies: large blocks of time devoted to one composer or artist. When I say "large blocks", I mean. For example, one orgy a few years ago, played all of the Bach cantatas.

This winter the orgies include (among others) Bartok, Tippett, Joe Henderson, Count Basie, Faure, Rachmaninoff, Tom Waits, Ray Charles, Chausson, Boccherini, Franz Berwald, and Korngold (see details here). In addition to jazz and classical, there are also mini-orgies of other types of music as well (O.D.B, the Unsane, Plan-It-X), but these artists fly under my radar and I leave their recommendation to others.

The orgies go until January 31st. The streams used to be problematic to me, but WHRB has switched to Live365 and now they are reliable and of very high quality. If you are looking for something to listen to, give it a try.

Handel made me cry

My favorite CD purchase of this past year may just be Lorraine Hunt Lieberson's recording of Handel arias conducted by Harry Bicket. This is some of the most moving singing I've heard in some time.

The motivation of the CD was apparently the Peter Sellars' production of Theodora at Glyndebourne, which I recently saw on DVD courtesy of NetFlix. This has been praised to the skies by the usual suspects and while I was very moved by this as well (it helps having such committed performers as Lieberson, Dawn Upshaw, David Daniels and Richard Croft, with William Christie in the pit), but as always I'm frustrated by Sellars' production. The interaction between the characters is some of the most emotional and true-to-life that I've seen on an opera stage. But yet again he feels the need to overlay this with pop/modern references and his own agenda and subtext. I'd love, just for once, to see him stage at least a semi-traditional performance of a Handel (or Mozart, or anything for that matter) opera. He is a man of undoubted talents, but personally I'd rather see him trust the works more, rather than try to reinvent them.

Life without music

My IPod broke (actually a clone, the IRiver H-120) and I'm without my portable music.

So for the first time in some time I experienced my 1 hour commute without musical accompaniment. It was a sort of eerie experience. I'd become so used to blocking out the real world and its sounds that I forgot what to expect. Today I listened to the grinding of the train wheels along the tracks, the background mumur of conversation (very subdued at 6:00 am) and the light pinging of rain against the metail railroad car. At first it was jarring, but then I was lulled into a mild sleep.

The manufacturer is sending me a new device, but for a few days, I think I'll enjoy experiencing the sounds of life in NY. Now if we could only do something about the smells.

The end of civilization

Or maybe not. There is an article in today's NY Times about the new Tristan und Isolde recording being made in London, which will, according to the article at least, be the last (or one of the last, I'm not clear which) studio recordings of a complete opera.

The article contradicts that of course (mentioning an upcoming Domingo recording of Puccini's Edgar). Alex Ross points out that Norman Lebrecht has (erroneously) been predicting the demise of the classical recording industry for some time. Like Mr. Ross, I can't agree with either prediction. We've had a number of studio recording recently but mostly from the non-major labels.

The current classical recording malaise has to do with two major factors: 1) the glut of CD reissues of older recordings counteracting the need for new recordings of familiar repertoire; and 2) the changed, unrealistic expectations of the major recording companies.

In the past classical recordings were considered a long term investment at best. In their first release sales would be modest, but the life of a typical classical recording would be much longer than that of a popular recording (which generally ends up in the bargain bin within a year or two). Then came The Three Tenors and their ilk, which produced incredible short term profit, and convincing the powers that be that classical recordings could be, in the short term, profitable. And so we were treated to an avalanche of crossover, movie music and ersatz-classical which (IMHO) might have some virtue in small doses, but in the porportions that emerged, merely served to dilute the product.

But notice that while the majors cut and cheapen their output, new smaller (leaner?) labels continued to produce quality recordings, mainly of underrecorded repertoire. Hyperion, Chandos, Harmonia Mundi, Naive, Nonesuch, and the budget wonder Naxos continue to make wonderful recordings that are increasingly lining my shelves. I don't pretend to know their sales or profit figures, but some of the more "established names" certainly would have folded long ago if they weren't able to balance their books.

All this makes me think that there is a certainly a shift in the classical market, which by the way, mirrors most commercial ventures: find a need and fill it (some wags might say: exploit it). For some it is releasing DVD versions of live performances, and others it is finding a underserved niche (unearthing baroque gems or exploring new music) in studio recordings. For me this is exciting: new repertoire and new media.

As for Tristan or Boheme, get me an exciting cast and conductor and I'll buy (I did buy new Vienna Tristan and will probably buy the new Domingo/Stemme/Pappano recording, when it is released). But without that, I think recording companies are better off saving the environment and I'm better off with Nilsson, Flagstad, Tebaldi, Bjoerling et al.

Memories of Nancy LaMott

One of my greatest passions was for the cabaret singer Nancy LaMott. She had the uncanny ability to get to the emotional core of just about any song she sang, but she also had a wonderful sense of fun in her singing. She left us far too young (how can it be almost 10 years ago?) and I was heartbroken. I never "knew" her, (read Terry Teachout's loving tribute to her in his A Terry Teachout Reader from someone who did), but during every show she always made her audience feel as if they were all friends.

I was lucky enough to see her on multiple occasions over the last two years of her life (at the Algonquin, Tavern on the Green, etc.) and while her CDs convey much about her, it was live and in person that made me totally fall for her. She was charming and funny and I always left her shows with a grin on my face and warm feeling inside.

Her CDs have been only intermittently available over the past few years due to legal problems, but they are now back and I've just heard that a new one will be available on Feb. 1. It is taken from a live show at Tavern on the Green, in her last appearance (which I unfortuntately missed) there shortly before her death. Reading about it on David Friedman's site, "this CD is filled with radiant, joyful, gorgeously sung performances, as well as charming, funny, often-touching patter. " This promises to be a very special release. More should be forthcoming.

I love all her CDs, but if I had to recommend one to start out with, I think it might be My Foolish Heart, which may be just sentimental, because it was the first one that I heard. Her Sondheim medley is so packed full of emotion it leaves me breathless. Another favorite CD is Just in Time for Christmas, and even though we're about two weeks too late, it's still worth a listen (my favorites are All Those Christmas Cliches and the title track). And then there is... Never mind, just get them all. Trust me on this.

Opening for business

So I've decided to blog. Why should I want to do that and subject myself to the scorn and ridicule of the great unblogged.

This will be a collection of thoughts, with no particular rhyme nor reason. The focus will no doubt be the arts, primarily music and theater (or "theatre" if you are so inclined). I shall probably not review, although I will no doubt write about performances seen or heard. I also hope to steer clear of the those inenivtable party ruiners: religion and politics (although, at least for the second, how successful I am will depend on my mood and emotion).

What do I hope to achieve? I'm not sure really, but this seems like an appropriate mode of expression and I hope that if nothing else, I will develop. There is a hope, I guess, that some will join me for the ride. Otherwise, I expect I will just dissolve into the great cyber-ether.

Well here it goes....