Wednesday, October 31, 2012

4.) Bartok - Romanian Folk Dances, s. 76

Yes, I realize that the name of Bela Bartok causes some people to recoil in horror,
but every once in a while, a legitimate arts organization has a responsibility to
present the works of the truly great creators, especially one like Bartok, whose
music embodies a sort of cosmic humanism.

That being said, these 7 short dances are among Bartok's most enjoyable and
accessible works. Who could fail to be moved by his undying passion and
commitment for collecting and preserving the pure, authentic FOLK MUSIC
of the Hungarian empire....which, at the time, included Rumania, Slovakia,
Serbia and Croatia.

 
Imagine Bartok and his friend, composer Zoltan Kodaly, travelling through the
backwoods of rural Hungary to every tiny, primitive village they could find, then
asking all of the oldest peasants to sing the songs they remembered from their
childhood into Bartok's miniature Edison wax-cylinder phonograph; what a clash
of cultures!  But Bartok and Kodaly realized that, without their pursuit of these
old songs, an important part of their cultural past would be lost forever---since
none of these songs were written down; they existed only in the memories of the
peasants who sang them.

Bartok's entire voice as a composer changed because of his work "in the field";
what an incredibly fascinating synthesis between the raw, unadorned folk
material and Bartok's own rugged, uncompromising...but thoroughly human....
musical personality.

------------
Bartok's Romanian Dances originated with seven authentic folk-dance tunes
he collected, which he then arranged and harmonized in his own unique,
exotic style. He wrote them first for piano, then orchestrated them (there's also
a version for violin solo and piano).

They last barely 5 minutes in total....and each is like a superb and fascinating
miniature "audio clip" of Romania's distant past, thankfully preserved for us by
the great composer. Each dance has a title----most are descriptive of the purpose
or the function that the dance served in daily life. Apparently the first dance,
stately and joyous in nature, was danced with some sort of stick resembling a
baseball bat; Bartok's title is literally Dance with Bat, which I've changed to
Dance with Wooden Bat in the program; all seven of these dance melodies come
from the Transylvania region of Romania, and I wouldn't want anyone to think
that "Dance with Bat" had anything to do with Transylvania's most infamous,
legendary Count.

A wonderful way to open the second half of our concert on Sunday; you will
enjoy getting to know the "lighter" side of the great Bela Bartok.

Thanks for reading,

Larry R 

3.) Smetana ~ The Moldau

One of the two works on the program that fall into the "beloved" category,
this magnificent work was one of the very first classical pieces I learned. In
my 7th grade class---way back in the 1960's---our new church organist also
taught music in the classrooms. Once a week, he would come in with a little
old phonograph and play LP recordings; once I had heard Moldau, I was
hooked.

It's important to realize that Smetana was one of Bohemia's national leaders
in the 1860's-70's, when the Czech culture and language were in danger of
being swallowed up by German influence in the region. Smetana's greatest
orchestral work is his group of SIX symphonic poems Ma Vlast ("My Country"),
of which Moldau is the second and most popular. Moldau is the Germanic
name of the river Vltava,  which runs through the center of Prague in its 
course through the countryside of Bohemia; it has come to symbolize the
very soul of that great nation.

Smetana's uncanny ability to represent the river in orchestral terms is no
more evident than in the very opening, where the two flutes perform a
delicate, swirling little duet (marked lusingando, or "alluring", "caressing"
in Italian) that gives the impression of two tiny, sparkling rivulets that
spring forth from the mountains and from which the entire river flows.

From there, the orchestral fabric grows and expands in masterly fashion,
until the entire string section is swaying back and forth to create the
actual physical sensation of gently cascading waves (Smetana writes the
Italian word ondeggiate here---"rolling, undulating").  And then, the
great THEME of the Moldau appears in the first violins.....

The river travels past scenes of great beauty---woods filled with the sounds
of hunting horns, a robust peasant wedding with polka, a moonlit scene
with dancing water nymphs, and a turbulent, violent storm scene.

The NSO and I rehearsed this work last night (Monday), and the sound
of the flute, clarinet and string "waves" was, I felt, perfectly captured by
our players. You will hear for yourselves on Sunday.

Also, I feel that Smetana's tragic loss of hearing about the time he wrote
this work may have affected his writing of the Storm scene, which is
scored in a rather cluttered and heavy-handed way; it's almost impossible
to distinguish the main thematic elements over the rest of the orchestral
din (had he actually heard the work in performance, I think he might have
thinned out some of the orchestration).  But through careful re-balancing
of the parts, I think the textures will be about as clean and distinguishable
as you are likely to hear in a live performance of this work.

I recall when flying to Prague a number of years ago, that the second
the plane's tires hit the runway upon landing, all of the people on board
instantaneously burst into applause while, magically, the very first sound
of the little flute "rivulets" of The Moldau were heard on the plane's
sound system; the work was played in its entirety as we "de-planed".
A very moving tribute to the great city of Prague and the Czech nation.
Within a few days, I was standing on the Charles Bridge watching the
mighty Vltava flowing under and all around.

 A magnificent work which definitely deserves it popularity.

FYI--- I had originally programmed the fourth of the Ma Vlast symphonic
poems, From Bohemia's Meadows and Forests, which is actually my favorite
of the six (we also did the 6th poem Blaink, along with Moldau, during my
first season with the NSO). But No. 4 contains some very complex string
passages which would have required more rehearsal time than I felt we
had; so...as I often do....I erred on the side of caution and substituted
the familiar Moldau, which I am glad to have done. We'll do Bohemia's
Meadows sometime in the near future; it's a fabulously enjoyable work.


Thanks for reading,

Larry R


 

Tuesday, October 30, 2012

2.) Dvorak - Romance for Violin and Orchestra, op. 11


Continuing my daily commentary on this Sunday's concert ("Eastern European
Folk Fest"), here are a few thoughts on the second work on the program.


 

You will see that Sunday's concert is predominantly filled with fast,
robust, energetic and extroverted music; I just returned from a full
rehearsal, and believe me, it's quite a workout for both me and the orchestra.

Incidentally, when we arrived at Maple School for our rehearsal tonight (Oct 29),
we found that we had been moved into one of their two GYMS, due to a
scheduling conflict. The temperature in the gym was quite chilly, which I
loved (since I work very hard in rehearsal), and the sound was....well...
like a gym: boomy. But the orchestra, as always, really dug in and overcame
the difficult acoustics; the rehearsal was a very good one.

Anyway, there are TWO soft, slow, lyrical works on the program, to provide
contrast. The first is Dvorak's lovely, wistful Romance, written early in his
career when he was just starting to overcome his Wagner-fixation (a common
condition with composers of the day). Here, Dvorak's sweet, earthy CZECH
voice clearly begins to emerge.

Finding the right artist to play the solo violin part in this work is a bit of a
challenge, since it requires the utmost in lyrical purity of sound and the
ability to caress and nuance each phrase. I had the pleasure of hearing
a number of extremely talented young violinists last January in auditions
at the Music Institute of Chicago's Winnetka campus. In searching for
a young soloist, I asked Jim Setapen of the Institute to send me the
notes I had taken down while listening to the auditions. Here is what
I wrote for violinist Claire Bourg, who played the Khachaturian Concerto:

Everything is there in her playing; I'd call it "total command" of music
and instrument. Sense of style and character is excellent. Folk-like
lilt of 2nd theme floats and sings; contrast and "SHAPE" in her playing
is extraordinary......"

And I continued to gush on....

Needless to say, this was the PERFECT choice for the Dvorak Romance,
as you will hear on Sunday. (FYI-- I will meet with Claire to rehearse
with piano this Thursday, Nov 1st; she will then join us with the NSO
that evening).

Please check Claire Bourg's bio on our website; just click on her pic.
She is obviously one talented young lady.

Thanks for reading.

larry

Sunday, October 28, 2012

1.) Tchaikovsky - Dance of the Jesters and Tumblers from The Maid of Orleans



Sunday, October 28

COUNTDOWN TO NOVEMBER 4th!

One week from today, Sunday, November 4th, our second concert will set a new standard for excitement and outright FUN at an NSO concert.

The program, entitled
EASTERN EUROPEAN FOLK FEST, features SEVEN (7) colorful and exciting works, which I will PREVIEW here, one-per-day.

1.) Tchaikovsky -
Dance of the Jesters and Tumblers from The Maid of Orleans
OK-- so here's yet another totally unknown work, which I am using it to open the
concert. But believe me...when we finish this 4-minute musical riot, I guarantee
you'll want to hear it again.

About 20 years ago, I took a chance (as I often do) and bought an LP of unfamiliar

orchestral dances by Tchaikovsky, all written for his largely-obscure OPERAS.
The performance was by Colin Davis and the Covent Garden Opera Orchestra,
a high-quality production on the Phillips label.  At the cut-out price of $3.99, what
could I lose?

Well...of the many unfamiliar dances on this album, ONE of THEM stood out

WAY, WAY above the rest.

It's a comic dance from Tchaikovsky's 1879 opera on the Joan of Arc legend.

Who knows what this dance has to do with the solemn tale of The Maid of
Orleans? It's obviously an interlude intended to satisfy the Parisian craze
for ballets in their operas.

No matter; I was determined to find and present this work when the opportunity

arose. So, after a lot of searching and frustrating attempts to identify this piece
with the publisher, I was able to rent it ESPECIALLY for this concert.

It is Tchaikovsky as robust, dashing, and NUTTY as you ever could have imagined,

and you will be the FIRST to hear it; the orchestra had a blast playing though it at
our first rehearsal last Monday. AND... it's just the opening work on a concert that
promises to leave you in a state of musical bliss.

Tomorrow's blog entry......the first of two beloved Bohemians on the program,

plus an introduction to a phenomenal young solo artist.

Stay tuned.

Thanks for reading, 
Larry

Looking back ...

October 27, 2012

Before our 2nd concert (November 4th)
is upon us, I wanted to post a few parting comments on our season opener on September 30th.

Those of you who attended will recall, I'm sure, the exquisite French PASTORAL writing----- airy, delicate, wistful, joyous, somewhat sentimental--that was present in each of the works we played.





In the Carillon movement from Bizet's L'arlesienne  incidental music,
we worked on producing a gorgeous, "billowy" sort of string sound, so that
the main melody soared over the repeated BELL-ringing motif played by the
horns. Nothing too aggressive here, just lovely, plush "pastel" sound quality.

Next was the delightful Basque Rapsodie by Gabriel Pierne which, you may

recall, was also written for a stage production; this time, it was from the novel
RAMUNTCHO by Pierre Loti, the guy who wrote a story called "Madame
Chrysanthemum", which ultimately became a rather famous opera by another
composer.  But "Ramuntcho" tells of the escapades of the Basque region's most
famous smuggler and Pelote player....sort of a rural French/Spanish Jai-alai.

What really matters, of course, is the music, and the Basque Rapsodie seemed to

me, in some ways, the SURPRISE "HIT" of the afternoon.  Absolutely lovely music,
which our audience embraced immediately; I'm sure the composer would have been
thrilled. What's also amazing is the way in which the Northbrook Symphony typically
plays a totally obscure piece of music such as this---which no one had EVER heard
a single note of before our brief rehearsal period began---as authoritatively and
convincingly as if they have known it all their lives. 

AFTER INTERMISSION.....

the mighty SYMPHONY NO. 3 of Saint-Saens awaited us, a challenging and terrifically
rewarding work to play. Again, the orchestra outdid itself, with finely nuanced,
expressive playing, clean, precisely articulated rhythms in the scherzo movement and
plenty of big, brassy, declamatory power in the finale.

Perhaps the most rewarding for me was the CLARITY which we brought to this

work; it's easy to pound your way through it, like most orchestras do. But Saint-
Saens was, above all, a classical  thinker, who delighted in finely-crafted, meticulous
writing that requires very careful balancing, lest it become too thick and muddled.

It worked beautifully.

And how about those two pianos, playing their heavenly harp-like figuration during
the finale's radiant string chorale? My favorite passage in the work, which I learned
during my junior year at The Cleveland Institute, and have been waiting a LONG
time to perform!  

Incidentally, the keyboard part is supposed to be performed by two players on the

SAME piano ("piano, 4-hands" as it's known), but our big 9-foot Bösendorfer
has been in the shop all summer and wasn't ready for its close-up yet....so we

used two upright pianos instead. I liked them because they produced a slightly
"music-hall" type of sound......not entirely inappropriate for this work.

And let's not forget the fine artistry of Patricia Lee, our organist; Saint-Saens was

very judicious about his use of the organ in this work but Pat, who has played the
symphony several times, knew exactly how to gauge each entrance to produce the
maximum effect.

A thrilling, fun-to-perform concert...but enough for one day's work, thank you

(we also played through the entire concert at our 1pm dress rehearsal before
the performance!). Recovery time for me---about three days.


 
NEXT-----
                        COUNTDOWN TO NOVEMBER 4th! 


Thank you for reading,
Larry R

Saturday, October 27, 2012

Welcome - new Maestro blog


Welcome to the new Northbrook Symphony
Maestro Blog, for lack of a better name.

I am looking forward to sharing my thoughts and insights about our concerts with you, so please continue to follow along, especially as we approach our next exciting program on Sunday, November 4th.

BUT FIRST---- I couldn't start this blog without mentioning our big SEASON OPENER, theSeptember 30th concert entitled Joie de Vivre -- "The Joy of Life", which anyone who attended will, I hope, remember fondly.

I love French music, and always look for an opportunity to program it. Of course, most
orchestras and audiences seem to favor the "Meat and Potatoes" repertoire (question: does
potato have an "e" at the end?---it does when it's plural), so an all-French program
is a bit dicey; but what else is new with the NSO? We're always looking for new and
exciting---and fun, accessible--- music to present to our very appreciative audience.

The September 30th program opened with a Suite of dances by Jean Phillipe Rameau,
the French Baroque composer whose music has become something of a sacred icon for
me during the past few years; it's one of those things you can't explain---I've never
considered myself much of a Baroque-kind-of-guy in terms of knowledge and experience..
but Rameau's music has caused me to reconsider.

The problem is finding performance materials for his music, and I was very lucky indeed
to have access to the Suite from Rameau's pastorale NAIS, which, as you will recall,
contains much sublimely beautiful, haunting, dream-like music. We worked very
diligently at it, and in great detail.  It's odd, but in attempting to perform Baroque music
in an authentic, 18th-century style, you almost have to stop and re-teach yourself
how to approach and play it, since almost everything has to be re-thought: phrasing,
tone color, tempos and how they inter-relate, the incessant, lavish ornamentation
(all those trills, etc) that is so much a part of Rameau's melodic writing.....

Anyway, I was THRILLED with the orchestra's playing of the Rameau Suite, and
feel that we recreated that unearthly, shimmery, vibrant, intoxicating aura of the
music, especially the gorgeous MUSETTES---the shepherd pastoral dances which
featured the choir of reedy oboes and bassoons, the pounding of the
ceremonial bass drums (when was the last time you saw TWO of them in an
orchestra?), the low ORGAN pedals and---of course--- the unique, rustic sound
of the hurdy-gurdy, expertly played by our own resident lecturer, Jim Kendros.

My next blog entry will cover the rest of the September 30th concert, but I
wanted to give a full "report" on the Rameau Suite from NAIS, since it was such
a rarity, a perfect example of what the NSO does best, and a fitting choice
as the very first work to be played in our new season. I think it was one of the
NSO's highpoints of recent years, a true GEM from the ancient musical past
that was brought to brilliant life on our stage; it was as exciting to
present as it was challenging to prepare and perform.

If you missed it, well........ I'll be looking for more possibilities to present
Rameau's incredible orchestral music in the future (we actually did a short,
4-movement ballet suite by Rameau in February of 2011; there will be more).

Larry R