Like most professional musicians, I have just finished the Christmas "marathon". That is, weekly performances of Christmas concerts, beginning the first week of December.
This "marathon" means different things to different people. Some musicians see it as an opportunity to make lots of do-re-mi. After all, whether one views Christmas as a sacred or secular holiday, most everyone agrees that the music is good. Consequently, those people who don't normally attend orchestra concerts come out in droves. Just look at ballet companies. Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker has to account for 15-20% of their ticket sales for the year. Similarly, the Bowling Green Chamber Orchestra and the Murfreesboro Symphony Orchestra (the two orchestras for which I serve as music director) experienced record audiences for their respective concerts.
For me, Christmas is more than ticket sales. As I planned the two concerts, it occurred to me (as it does every year) that this holiday is responsible for much of the great orchestral literature we have. Not only do we have great pop arrangements like A Christmas Song (Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire), but we also have great classical pieces like the above-mentioned Nutcracker. More significant to me, however, are the composers who were inspired by the religious aspects of Christmas. From Adams' O Holy Night to Handel's Messiah, Christmas wouldn't be the same without these musical reminders of the real reason for the season. For me, Christmas concerts are a glorious celebration of Jesus' birth.
Have a blessed Christmas!
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
The Obsolete Conductor
It is highly unusual for me to post comments twice in the same month, let alone twice in the same week as I am doing today. However, I ran across this news brief from the American Symphony Orchestra League. It hits home with something I have been saying for years, so I couldn't resist sharing it with you. Here goes:
James Levine on conducting and new music
In Sunday’s (11/18) Boston Globe, Sam Allis talks with Boston Symphony Orchestra Music Director James Levine about his conducting style. “Levine’s goal is to make himself, to use his own word, obsolete.” Says Levine: “What I want to hear is an orchestra that functions like a huge chamber orchestra, to communicate the conception directly to the audience. If the conductor has to control everything gesturally, the audience looks more than listens.” (My emphasis.)
What a concept: the audience listening to the music rather than watching the conductor. Ever since the histrionics of Leonard Bernstein in the 1950s, orchestra audiences (and unfortunately many musicians) have judged a conductor's effectiveness on how good he or she looks on the podium. I blame it on Bernstein because he is the first notable example of a conductor who seemingly choreographed movements to impress the public. Before that, conductors often looked awkward on the podium. For example, look at old films of Furtwangler (who conducted like a limp, marionette puppet) or Richard Strauss (who looked like he was bored out of his skull when he conducted). These great conductors were judged on the music that they made. I thought the days of conductors being judged on their musicality instead of their podium moves were over. Perhaps James Levine offers hope.
Don't get me wrong. Bernstein was a genius. I can't think of any other person in history who was able to conduct, compose, teach, and play at the level Bernstein achieved. However, his "matinee" style of conducting put the emphasis in the wrong place, in my opinion. To prove my point, look at some of the classes offered to conductors. For example, classes in movement are offered at conducting seminars and workshops. I'm not talking about the basics of conducting technique, but classes taught by theatre people in how to look good on the podium. Proponents of these classes would deny that looking good is their goal. They would say that such movements are necessary to communicate the composer's intentions via the conductor's gestures, resulting in better music making. Before Bernstein, conductors were devoted solely to the music, regardless of how they looked to the public. I really wonder if conductors like Strauss and Furtwangler could get a podium job these days.
I don't blame conductors for worrying about how they look. As I said, audiences and musicians tend to judge them on this. If you want a job, you better play the game. However, I dream of the day when a conductor is judged not on how he looks, but on what kind of product he gets from the musicians who play beneath his baton. Maybe I was born 50 years too late and this is a pipe dream. Then again, maybe Maestro Levine offers hope.
James Levine on conducting and new music
In Sunday’s (11/18) Boston Globe, Sam Allis talks with Boston Symphony Orchestra Music Director James Levine about his conducting style. “Levine’s goal is to make himself, to use his own word, obsolete.” Says Levine: “What I want to hear is an orchestra that functions like a huge chamber orchestra, to communicate the conception directly to the audience. If the conductor has to control everything gesturally, the audience looks more than listens.” (My emphasis.)
What a concept: the audience listening to the music rather than watching the conductor. Ever since the histrionics of Leonard Bernstein in the 1950s, orchestra audiences (and unfortunately many musicians) have judged a conductor's effectiveness on how good he or she looks on the podium. I blame it on Bernstein because he is the first notable example of a conductor who seemingly choreographed movements to impress the public. Before that, conductors often looked awkward on the podium. For example, look at old films of Furtwangler (who conducted like a limp, marionette puppet) or Richard Strauss (who looked like he was bored out of his skull when he conducted). These great conductors were judged on the music that they made. I thought the days of conductors being judged on their musicality instead of their podium moves were over. Perhaps James Levine offers hope.
Don't get me wrong. Bernstein was a genius. I can't think of any other person in history who was able to conduct, compose, teach, and play at the level Bernstein achieved. However, his "matinee" style of conducting put the emphasis in the wrong place, in my opinion. To prove my point, look at some of the classes offered to conductors. For example, classes in movement are offered at conducting seminars and workshops. I'm not talking about the basics of conducting technique, but classes taught by theatre people in how to look good on the podium. Proponents of these classes would deny that looking good is their goal. They would say that such movements are necessary to communicate the composer's intentions via the conductor's gestures, resulting in better music making. Before Bernstein, conductors were devoted solely to the music, regardless of how they looked to the public. I really wonder if conductors like Strauss and Furtwangler could get a podium job these days.
I don't blame conductors for worrying about how they look. As I said, audiences and musicians tend to judge them on this. If you want a job, you better play the game. However, I dream of the day when a conductor is judged not on how he looks, but on what kind of product he gets from the musicians who play beneath his baton. Maybe I was born 50 years too late and this is a pipe dream. Then again, maybe Maestro Levine offers hope.
Giving Thanks
As we approach the Thanksgiving holiday, I thought I would take a moment to say what I am personally thankful for. God has blessed me in more ways than I deserve. I think it is appropriate to take the time to recognize that.
First and foremost, I am thankful for my family. I have a loving wife who supports everything I do without complaint and with encouragement. I have two children who are good kids. I have a mother who faithfully drove me to trumpet lessons every week and a father (now deceased) who encouraged me to follow my musical dreams.
I am thankful for my friends. They have enriched my life beyond measure.
After doing quite a bit of traveling this past year, I realize how thankful I am to live in the United States. We take freedom for granted. We also take our high standard of living for granted. We really have nothing to complain about and everything to be thankful for.
Lastly, I am thankful for my job. I have the pleasure of getting up every morning and doing what I love. How many people can honestly say that? I have the honor of working with good people (staff and board of directors) who work hard to keep the orchestra "on the road". And, of course, I get to conduct a great group of people. Not only are they good musicians, but they are good people. I wouldn't have it any other way.
What are you thankful for? Take a moment and thank God for your blessings.
First and foremost, I am thankful for my family. I have a loving wife who supports everything I do without complaint and with encouragement. I have two children who are good kids. I have a mother who faithfully drove me to trumpet lessons every week and a father (now deceased) who encouraged me to follow my musical dreams.
I am thankful for my friends. They have enriched my life beyond measure.
After doing quite a bit of traveling this past year, I realize how thankful I am to live in the United States. We take freedom for granted. We also take our high standard of living for granted. We really have nothing to complain about and everything to be thankful for.
Lastly, I am thankful for my job. I have the pleasure of getting up every morning and doing what I love. How many people can honestly say that? I have the honor of working with good people (staff and board of directors) who work hard to keep the orchestra "on the road". And, of course, I get to conduct a great group of people. Not only are they good musicians, but they are good people. I wouldn't have it any other way.
What are you thankful for? Take a moment and thank God for your blessings.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Youthful Exuberance
I have just returned from spending four days in Mobile, Alabama where I conducted the University of Mobile Community Orchestra. The ensemble is in its infancy, having presented just a few concerts. It is a typical group of its kind, made up of professionals from the area symphony (Mobile Symphony) and university students. I had a great time. I hope that I taught the students something about music making. I know that they taught me.
Sometimes we have to be reminded of things that we already know. For example, I know that I love my family, but it takes going away from home for a few days to realize just how much. And, I know that if I eat anything I want, I will gain weight. Knowing that, I still go off the bandwagon at times. (Okay, all the time.) Well, the students at the University of Mobile reminded me that music is a great way to make a living.
When I was a seventh-grader in Mrs. Hornaday's music appreciation class at Wabash Junior High School, Wabash, Indiana, I knew that I wanted to have a career in music. (Before that, I was convinced that I wanted to be a veterinarian--until I found out that math was involved.) I remember how exciting music was back then. I spent hours listening to music, practicing, and generally dreaming about conducting an orchestra. Over the years, however, I lost some of that "youthful exuberance".
Don't get me wrong--I am the luckiest man alive. I actually get to have a career in music. But it took the students at UM to remind me that we in the music business really are lucky. Music is a great way to make a living.
It's true that few get rich in our profession, but that just doesn't seem important to me now. Our jobs are never mundane like an assembly-line job (although some orchestral musicians would say if they have to play Beethoven Five again, they will scream. I say, "get over it". Would you rather put a widget in a square hole--500 times a day?) Unlike most jobs, we get instant gratification. (How many employees have large groups of people applaud for them for a job well done?) Perhaps most importantly, musicians get to make people happy. Sure, I appreciate my CPA when he gets me a tax refund, or my physician when she makes me well, but when I conduct a concert, I actually get to entertain people. What a privilege.
411 to all professional musicians: We are the luckiest group of professionals on earth. Stop complaining and count your blessings.
Sometimes we have to be reminded of things that we already know. For example, I know that I love my family, but it takes going away from home for a few days to realize just how much. And, I know that if I eat anything I want, I will gain weight. Knowing that, I still go off the bandwagon at times. (Okay, all the time.) Well, the students at the University of Mobile reminded me that music is a great way to make a living.
When I was a seventh-grader in Mrs. Hornaday's music appreciation class at Wabash Junior High School, Wabash, Indiana, I knew that I wanted to have a career in music. (Before that, I was convinced that I wanted to be a veterinarian--until I found out that math was involved.) I remember how exciting music was back then. I spent hours listening to music, practicing, and generally dreaming about conducting an orchestra. Over the years, however, I lost some of that "youthful exuberance".
Don't get me wrong--I am the luckiest man alive. I actually get to have a career in music. But it took the students at UM to remind me that we in the music business really are lucky. Music is a great way to make a living.
It's true that few get rich in our profession, but that just doesn't seem important to me now. Our jobs are never mundane like an assembly-line job (although some orchestral musicians would say if they have to play Beethoven Five again, they will scream. I say, "get over it". Would you rather put a widget in a square hole--500 times a day?) Unlike most jobs, we get instant gratification. (How many employees have large groups of people applaud for them for a job well done?) Perhaps most importantly, musicians get to make people happy. Sure, I appreciate my CPA when he gets me a tax refund, or my physician when she makes me well, but when I conduct a concert, I actually get to entertain people. What a privilege.
411 to all professional musicians: We are the luckiest group of professionals on earth. Stop complaining and count your blessings.
Monday, September 24, 2007
How would it make you feel to have your wrist slapped?
I just read the following news report:
In an article in today's Chicago Tribune, John von Rhein discusses Riccardo Muti's speaking to the CSO audience for applauding after the third movement of Tchaikovsky's Sixth Symphony. "Muti's unspoken point was that their premature applause, though well intentioned, broke the musical continuity and hidden program Tchaikovsky built into his final masterpiece. Some audience members no doubt found his comments condescending, but he made a valid point without bullying the newbies; and it seemed to me that everyone then listened to the finale with a greater understanding of how art and reality mingled so tragically at the end of the Russian composer's life."
For those of you who are unaware, the third movement of Tchaikovsky's Sixth Symphony ends with a bang, as if it is the ending movement. The final movement is atypical in that it ends softly and slowly, befitting the title of the symphony: The Pathetic. It is no surprise that Chicagoan's applauded when they did. The bigger question regards Muti's slap on their collective wrists for doing so.
Muti might be right about the fact that the applause interrupted the musical flow. However, when he spoke about the point (no matter how politely), what signal did he send to those in the audience? I think he said: You are uneducated. You just ruined this for everyone who is educated. Don't come back until you are educated.
And we in the orchestra world wonder why audiences are getting smaller....
In an article in today's Chicago Tribune, John von Rhein discusses Riccardo Muti's speaking to the CSO audience for applauding after the third movement of Tchaikovsky's Sixth Symphony. "Muti's unspoken point was that their premature applause, though well intentioned, broke the musical continuity and hidden program Tchaikovsky built into his final masterpiece. Some audience members no doubt found his comments condescending, but he made a valid point without bullying the newbies; and it seemed to me that everyone then listened to the finale with a greater understanding of how art and reality mingled so tragically at the end of the Russian composer's life."
For those of you who are unaware, the third movement of Tchaikovsky's Sixth Symphony ends with a bang, as if it is the ending movement. The final movement is atypical in that it ends softly and slowly, befitting the title of the symphony: The Pathetic. It is no surprise that Chicagoan's applauded when they did. The bigger question regards Muti's slap on their collective wrists for doing so.
Muti might be right about the fact that the applause interrupted the musical flow. However, when he spoke about the point (no matter how politely), what signal did he send to those in the audience? I think he said: You are uneducated. You just ruined this for everyone who is educated. Don't come back until you are educated.
And we in the orchestra world wonder why audiences are getting smaller....
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Beam me up, Scotty!
As I write this blog, I am preparing for our regular season concert opener, entitled The Final Frontier. As you can probably guess, we will be doing space-inspired music. It got me to thinking about how many composers have been inspired by space through the years.
Look at the moon, for example. We have It's Only a Paper Moon, Moon River, By the Light of the Silvery Moon, Fly Me to the Moon, and Dark Side of the Moon--and that's what I could think of in 30 seconds!
Or how about stars? We have Stardust, When You Wish Upon a Star, and Star Wars. Planets? Earth Angel, Mozart's Jupiter symphony, Holst's The Planets, and the Beatles' Sun King. (Okay, I know. That's technically a star.)
I guess this brings new meaning to the idea of one having one's head in the clouds.
Look at the moon, for example. We have It's Only a Paper Moon, Moon River, By the Light of the Silvery Moon, Fly Me to the Moon, and Dark Side of the Moon--and that's what I could think of in 30 seconds!
Or how about stars? We have Stardust, When You Wish Upon a Star, and Star Wars. Planets? Earth Angel, Mozart's Jupiter symphony, Holst's The Planets, and the Beatles' Sun King. (Okay, I know. That's technically a star.)
I guess this brings new meaning to the idea of one having one's head in the clouds.
Saturday, August 4, 2007
Some people just don't get it
It's been too long since I posted to this site. In fact, when I saw that it had been almost one month, I was shocked. Of course, I have an excuse. As many of you know, I was just appointed music director of the Murfreesboro (Tennessee) Symphony Orchestra. I am quite enthused about the position. Murfreesboro is a great town with a lot of potential for a great orchestra. Maybe I will write more about the job later, but for now I want to grind my axe.
Anyone who has read this blog or talked to me personally, knows that I have an axe to grind when it comes to orchestral programming. The reason that I am going to talk about the subject yet again is that I read an article lately, written by a conductor whose orchestra was near bankruptcy. I couldn't believe my eyes. The guy was defending the traditional approach to programming and his orchestra almost ceased to exist! For those of you who don'tknow what I am talking about when I refer to the "traditional approach" to programming, here we go.
Most orchestras perform the usual overture, concerto, and symphony (in that order) on their regular concert programs and then have a separate pops series. In most cases, it's the pops concert ticket revenue that keeps the traditional programming alive. However, that is usually only true for orchestras with big budgets. It's different for smaller orchestras.
In the case of smaller orchestras, there are usually five or six regular, classical-type concerts (usually they are called the masterworks series) and two or three pops concerts. Unfortunately, in the case of small-budget orchestras, there are not enough pops concerts to pay for the regular concerts. And, the regular concerts are usually money-losers. Okay, I hear objections at this point. Some of you are saying, "No orchestra is able to make it on ticket sales alone." To which I reply, "Of course not." However, audience members start as ticket buyers and become donors later on. If an orchestra's audience is thin, so are the donors (unless the orchestra is relying on one or two BIG donors which, of course, is foolish with a capital "F").
So, orchestras go right along with this method and sometimes sail right into oblivion. I guess some conductors think it is better to not exist than to lower their standards, which is where I come in.
I believe that it is perfectly okay and even preferable to combine classical and popular music ON THE SAME PROGRAM. Who is it that decided a concert can only feature one genre of music? It certainly wasn't the famous composer Felix Mendelssohn (you know him--he wrote the tune that people play at the end of weddings). If you look at his concerts (around the middle of the 19th century), he programmed new classical music, old classical music, and arias from operettas (the 19th-century equivalent of the Broadway musical), all on the same program. BLASPHEMY!!!! Another guy who did the same was the march king, John Philip Sousa. He would perform "Turkey in the Straw," an aria from "La Boheme," and a march, one after the other. And, guess what? He was EXTREMELY successful. (At this point, there are conductors who are looking down their noses saying, "But he was a BAND DIRECTOR, not a serious musicians. I'm not going to touch that one with a ten-foot pole!).
All of this is common sense: play what the people want to hear. Of course, introduce them to music that challenges them, but for goodness sakes, don't bore them to tears or drive them out of the concert hall. After all, isn't it better to get people in the door who have never heard classical music by providing entertainment as well as culture? (I seriously think that there are some conductors who would just as soon perform for their 200-300 converts than to "lower their standards". To use an analogy, that would be like a pastor of a church only preaching to the saved and not trying to reach the unsaved!)
One thing I want those conductors to do is to tell me what pop music actually is. Why is the overture to Candide classical but West Side Story is pop? They were both written by Leonard Bernstein. Or IS West Side Story classical but My Fair Lady isn't? I get confused. Then there is Rhapsody in Blue by George Gershwin. Most conductors will lower themselves to play that on a regular concert, but they wouldn't perform Gershwin's songs with the rhapsody. Why not?
Some would say because the rhapsody is of a higher quality. Who decides that? As we used to say in the '70s (or was it the '80s?), "gag me with a spoon"!
Some people (conductors) just don't get it. For those of us who do, we can rest assured that we will at least have an orchestra to conduct. The "serious" folks will have to pry the baton out of my cold, dead-but happy- hand.
Anyone who has read this blog or talked to me personally, knows that I have an axe to grind when it comes to orchestral programming. The reason that I am going to talk about the subject yet again is that I read an article lately, written by a conductor whose orchestra was near bankruptcy. I couldn't believe my eyes. The guy was defending the traditional approach to programming and his orchestra almost ceased to exist! For those of you who don'tknow what I am talking about when I refer to the "traditional approach" to programming, here we go.
Most orchestras perform the usual overture, concerto, and symphony (in that order) on their regular concert programs and then have a separate pops series. In most cases, it's the pops concert ticket revenue that keeps the traditional programming alive. However, that is usually only true for orchestras with big budgets. It's different for smaller orchestras.
In the case of smaller orchestras, there are usually five or six regular, classical-type concerts (usually they are called the masterworks series) and two or three pops concerts. Unfortunately, in the case of small-budget orchestras, there are not enough pops concerts to pay for the regular concerts. And, the regular concerts are usually money-losers. Okay, I hear objections at this point. Some of you are saying, "No orchestra is able to make it on ticket sales alone." To which I reply, "Of course not." However, audience members start as ticket buyers and become donors later on. If an orchestra's audience is thin, so are the donors (unless the orchestra is relying on one or two BIG donors which, of course, is foolish with a capital "F").
So, orchestras go right along with this method and sometimes sail right into oblivion. I guess some conductors think it is better to not exist than to lower their standards, which is where I come in.
I believe that it is perfectly okay and even preferable to combine classical and popular music ON THE SAME PROGRAM. Who is it that decided a concert can only feature one genre of music? It certainly wasn't the famous composer Felix Mendelssohn (you know him--he wrote the tune that people play at the end of weddings). If you look at his concerts (around the middle of the 19th century), he programmed new classical music, old classical music, and arias from operettas (the 19th-century equivalent of the Broadway musical), all on the same program. BLASPHEMY!!!! Another guy who did the same was the march king, John Philip Sousa. He would perform "Turkey in the Straw," an aria from "La Boheme," and a march, one after the other. And, guess what? He was EXTREMELY successful. (At this point, there are conductors who are looking down their noses saying, "But he was a BAND DIRECTOR, not a serious musicians. I'm not going to touch that one with a ten-foot pole!).
All of this is common sense: play what the people want to hear. Of course, introduce them to music that challenges them, but for goodness sakes, don't bore them to tears or drive them out of the concert hall. After all, isn't it better to get people in the door who have never heard classical music by providing entertainment as well as culture? (I seriously think that there are some conductors who would just as soon perform for their 200-300 converts than to "lower their standards". To use an analogy, that would be like a pastor of a church only preaching to the saved and not trying to reach the unsaved!)
One thing I want those conductors to do is to tell me what pop music actually is. Why is the overture to Candide classical but West Side Story is pop? They were both written by Leonard Bernstein. Or IS West Side Story classical but My Fair Lady isn't? I get confused. Then there is Rhapsody in Blue by George Gershwin. Most conductors will lower themselves to play that on a regular concert, but they wouldn't perform Gershwin's songs with the rhapsody. Why not?
Some would say because the rhapsody is of a higher quality. Who decides that? As we used to say in the '70s (or was it the '80s?), "gag me with a spoon"!
Some people (conductors) just don't get it. For those of us who do, we can rest assured that we will at least have an orchestra to conduct. The "serious" folks will have to pry the baton out of my cold, dead-but happy- hand.
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