jwilzewske

Friday, March 19, 2010

Yo-Yo Ma: Ask Not What Your ‘Ax’ Can Do for You, but What You Can Do for Your Cyborg ‘Ax’

B asically, everything I’ve learned about Art has been from ‘finding my way inside’. [searching and growing through relationships with other artists, with history, and with the Spirit of all humankind].”
— Yo-Yo Ma, Gramophone, 2005.

I f your cello feels like dancing, by all means go! Take it out for a night on the town. Bounce your bow on its strings. Hug it. Cradle its neck tenderly. Praise it in the presence of others, when it can hear you. Fondle its tuning pegs as though they were earlobes, as Yo-Yo Ma did during the superb performance last night in the Harriman-Jewell Series in Kansas City.

Y our instrument has rights, and you have duties—toward your instrument as well as your co-performers.

Y o-Yo Ma shrugs his shoulders after performing—not after each and every piece, but after many of them—as if he were surprised that the result was so felicitous as it turned out to be, and as if he and the pianist Kathryn Stott were not wholly ‘in-charge’. It is not an ‘apologetic’ shrug, just one of genuine modesty and self-effacement. Gee. Aw, shucks.

I n these collaborations, too, Ma sometimes plays as though he were accompanist to pianist Stott: another aspect of Ma’s well-known modesty, incongruous with his stature and fame.

Franz Schubert: Sonata in A minor, D. 821
Dmitri Shostakovich: Sonata in D minor, Op. 40
Astor Piazzolla: Le Grand Tango
Egberto Gismonti: Bodas de Prata & Quatro Canto
Cèsar Franck: Sonata in A Major

M a’s main performance instrument is the 1733 Montagnana called ‘Petunia’. (The instrument was named this by a young girl after she asked Ma whether it had a name and Ma replied that it did not.) Another of Ma’s cellos, the 1712 Davidov Stradivarius, was previously owned by Jacqueline du Pré and by the Vuitton Foundation.

J acqueline du Pré’s unbridled dark qualities went ‘against’ the Davidov [conflicted with the Strad’s personality]. The more you ‘attack’ it, the less it returns.”
— Yo-Yo Ma.

L ate in her life, du Pré confided her frustration with the ‘unpredictability’ of this cello. Ma, however, has opined that the variability and her resulting frustration with the instrument came, not from the instrument, but instead from du Pré’s impassioned and autocratic style of playing. He has been famously quoted as saying that this Strad cannot be ‘dictated-to’ but instead must be ‘coaxed’ by its player. He speaks of his ‘rehabilitating’ the instrument after he had received it from du Pré—in much the same manner as a physical therapist or a rehab physician or nurse might speak of the journey helping a human patient recover some function that had been lost—after, say, a stroke.

T here is a mysterious relationship between performer and instrument. Since 1983, this cello’s sound has been ‘growing’—growing constantly during the years I have had it—becoming richer, deeper, and fuller. Partly, this can be attributed to now-constant playing that it receives, which causes it now to vibrate more fully than it did when it first came into my possession ... I had to learn not to be seduced by the sheer beauty of the sound in my mind before trying to ‘coax’ it from this cello. Many instruments sound beautiful in an intimate setting but may lose their quality of sound in the vastness of a concert hall. The Stradivarius does not. The integrity of its sound-picture, the warmth, the clarity and overtone structure—these are, I think, maintained through space much like a laser beam.”
— Yo-Yo Ma, Foreword from the book, Antonio Stradivari: The Cremona Exhibition of 1987, by Charles Beare.

If your aging cello develops some kind of ‘Cello Alzheimer’s’, Ma is the kind of gerontologist you would want to look after it—one who could and would bring out the best of its strengths and minimize vulnerability associated with its limitations. He would take it to gatherings where familiar subjects will be discussed by familiar people and not too fast. He would not sedate it or park it, mute, alone in a chair in an atrium.”

I n other words, according to Yo-Yo Ma, your instrument is not ‘instrumental’ in a superficial, ‘ends-justify-the-means’, deterministic, teleological, human-centric, master-slave way. Instead, it has its own spirit: its own personality; its own capacity for belief and intention; its own ‘free will’; its own inalienable dignity and moral standing, in much the way that a pet has these things.

W e often say ‘Take care!’ off-handedly—as routinely or thoughtlessly as a quick ‘Goodbye!’ or some abbreviated, perfunctory expression, devoid of emotion and, really, devoid of attention, except for our attention to habitual protocol.

B ut even then it does convey some sense of connectedness. When said with feeling and forethought, it means something like ‘Take care of yourself, because I care about you.’ I thought about this as I watched Yo-Yo and Kathy on-stage, during the works that they performed after the intermission.

T ake care!’ is something that one can (should!) say to a companion animal—or to a musical instrument; it is not something that must be restricted, to say only to human beings. Yo-Yo Ma’s interaction with his companion instrument—his empathetic attacks with the bow; his jocular brushing of its shoulders; his playful querying of its tuning with the fingers of his left hand; etc.—are gestures of a loved-one/lover toward a belovèd person, not the gestures of a ‘craftsman’ toward a mere ‘tool’. Watching Ma handle and play his belovèd cello, I wonder whether, later in the evening, he will wish it ‘Good night’ and settle it in [its] bed. The cello is a ‘subject’, not an ‘object’. The generosity and dignity that continually flow from Ma make this fantasy entirely plausible.

T he same generosity and moral standing are bestowed upon each composition as well—reflecting the person-like regard in which Ma holds it. Some of the pieces afford more opportunities to detect and assess this; others (esp. Baroque ones) somewhat less. Take, for example, Piazzolla’s ‘Le Grand Tango’, composed in 1981, originally for Mstislav Rostropovich. Ma and Stott animate the strange, tango-ish blend of tenderness and vigorous resolve/conviction that inhere in the score--they do this in a generous way that no one else does.

A nd, in various passages, Ma takes a back-seat and ‘accompanies’ Stott’s piano’s robust expressions—robustness that is implied and authentic, consistent with Piazzolla’s score and the spirit of tango as an intimate-yet-public lovers’ dance—a ‘duet’ of equals. To hear Kathy and Yo-Yo play together is to gain new understandings of the possibilities—and of the depth and breadth of truly ‘collaborative’ musicianship.

A nd when Kathy Stott played ‘Tres minutos con la reálidad,’ people whispered, ‘She must be Argentinian!’ ”
— Horacio Malvecino, liner notes, ‘Soul of the Tango’ CD.

T hrough their playing and their treatment of each other and through their rapport with their companion instruments, we learn something—or are vividly reminded—about being fully human, and about the joys of behaving well, virtuously even, despite challenges and provocations and injustices that we face: an experience far more fulfilling than witnessing admirable technical achievements or finding delight in a [musical] story well-told.

F uturists at MIT and elsewhere talk as though advances in robotics and A.I. and cloud-computing and so on will change our relationships to technical devices and systems in new and unprecedented ways (see links below). I doubt this—at least the ‘new-and-unprecedented’ part. Thoughtful, empathetic musicians like Ma and Stott have, for a long time, been in full-fledged symbiotic ‘relationships’ with their [companion] instruments, and with compositions, and [within limits of ‘partial personhood’ and philosophy of Mind] vice versa. To recognize or appreciate this, you have only to look and listen.

[50-sec clip, Yo-Yo Ma and Kathryn Stott, Astor Piazzolla, ‘Le Grand Tango’, 1.6MB MP3]

I can tell if someone else has touched my Quenoil bass, [even touched it] ‘by accident’. The instrument takes on a ‘different’ energy from my own—a different quality that I can detect and that persists for a considerable time after the other person’s touching it has ended.”
— François Rabbath, in Barry Green: Mastery of Music, p. 129.

A prodigy who played for President Kennedy at age 7, Ma is no snob, performing Bach to pop to tangos… If Yo-Yo Ma didn’t exist, no novelist in the world would have dared invent him. The combination of virtues—musical, intellectual, personal—is simply too implausible.”
— Joshua Kosman, Smithsonian Magazine, NOV-2005.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Artemis Quartett: Dissonance, Forensic Evidence, and Knowing

L et’s make nonfiction that is more thrilling than fiction. Let’s use the best of what fiction has to offer and make it more exciting because what happened was real.”
— Ellen Windemuth, founder, Off_the_Fence Productions, Amsterdam.

A rtemis Quartet’s performance in Kansas City last Friday night received a warm reception here.

Natalia Prischepenko, violin
Gregor Sigl, violin
Friedemann Weigle, viola
Eckart Runge, cello

T he all-Beethoven program consisted of Op. 95 (F minor) “Serioso”, Op. 127 No. 12 (E-flat major), and Op. 59 No. 3 “Razumovsky” (C major): supple interpretations throughout, without excesses of any kind, either radical or conservative. In this way, what the Artemis are doing sounds perpetually spontaneous, as though each member is reconsidering the ‘evidence’ that is expressed in her/his part—considering it anew each time they play.

I n fact, one of the qualities that impressed me especially was Artemis Quartett’s emphasis on the dramatic tensions between the parts—discourse between the instruments, yes, but as though the instruments (and the scores) have long-lasting disagreements, and express points of view that are founded on different evidence, profoundly different life-histories, irreconcilably different politics, and so on. Each player/part is not about to renounce what he/she ‘knows’.

[50-sec clip, Artemis Quartett, Beethoven, String Quartet in F minor, Op. 95 II, ‘Allegretto ma non troppo’, 1.6MB MP3]

T he exciting (and thought-provoking) result is a durable refractoriness to “nice” conclusions—a richness of trans-indivdual tension and dramatic complexity, even in works that are very familiar to us from repeated listening or performances.

T he encore, Astor Piazzolla’s ‘Suite del Ángel: Milonga del Ángel – Melancólico’, was another 6.7-min illustration of this.

T his Piazzolla suite is part of his series of “ángel” compositions from the 1950s and 1960s, usually performed with bandoneon or other instrumentation instead of this gorgeous arrangement for string quartet. Piazzolla had studied with Nadia Boulanger and famously alleged that his unusual counterpoint methods, for better or worse, could be blamed on her insidious pedagogy. In the “ángel” movement that the Artemis performed as an encore, we have lyrical elements that are passed among the quartet members, some of whose musical ‘testimony’ is corroborative of others’ testimony and some of whose testimony is discorroborative or contradictory. The scordatura-governed dissonance is earnest but not fierce; laconic, not agitated and verbose; and, as noted above, its rhetoric is serious, not whimsical or anecdotal.

T his peculiar Piazzolla suite is similar in narrative technique and orchestration methods to the 1949 ‘Sonata for Double Bass’ by Paul Hindemith. In that work, the bass player uses scordatura, tuning up a whole-step, which lends an unsettling, destabilizing effect to the sonata. In this Piazzolla movement, the cello’s C-string is tuned, I think, a whole-step down. In both works, the parts conjure a song in the form of a dialogue between the instruments. Hindemith: creator of ‘disharmonious counterpoint’ in which traditional combinatorial rules are subverted by a ‘decoupled system’ of tonality, or, maybe more accurately, a novel with an “unreliable narrator” point-of-view character. Piazzolla: creator of ‘testimonial dissonance’, with similar “unreliable” point-of-view characters.

T he same melody can be sung either alone or together with other players/characters, or entirely different melodies can be enunciated at the same time, or with variations that substantially alter the sense that the melody makes—the very embodiment of subjectivity and multiple, unstable points-of-view.

W hile we can recognize that the point of view of the “ángel” cello is constitutionally dour or sometimes irritable/unsympathetic, the subtlety and the disputes among the other parts’ responses prevent us from deciding that the cello-narrator, for all his vividness and probity, is more than just a figment of Piazzolla’s imagination. Our drive for certainty is flouted again and again, but we continue to listen, and there arrive more clues. We continue our listening with feelings of prolongèdly heightened suspense. Or ‘suspense-mingled-with-poignant-sense-of-loss-plus-optimism’.

T he result is that we get a riveting, realistic depiction of what may happen to human psyches when they are self-styled and unrelenting. They each know what they know; they each agree to disagree. Such complexity is emotionally engaging and believable, not confusing. In other words, read the quartet as you would read a good novel—as though it were real.

[50-sec clip, Artemis Quartett, Piazzolla, ‘Milonga del Ángel-Melancólico’, 1.6MB MP3]

T he Beethoven the Artemis offered was remarkably cogent and organic. The group dispatched the agitated, mercurial first movement of the Quartet in F minor (Op. 95) with a deft combination of rhapsodic vigor and cool control.”
— Anthony Tomassini, New York Times, 02-MAR-2010.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Saturday Night's Main Event

This Saturday Philadelphia's own "Fast Eddie" Chambers fights for the World Heavyweight Championship. Chambers is squaring off in an arena in Germany against Vladimir Klitschko, the Ukranian born boxer who is like a large building with legs. The boxing community here is absolutely rabid over this fight and yearning for the victory that will bring the Heavyweight Belt to Philadelphia. Indeed, many boxing fans across the globe would relish a contender like Chambers taking the crown from Klitschko.
At 208 lbs Chambers is at his lightest fighting weight ever and his speed and moves are the key to besting the taller Ukranian who has a jab like a telephone pole and a major size advantage. Chambers has applied a work ethic in the gym that is equal parts maniacal and monastic and the result is his aforementioned lean, dangerous fighting weight.
Speed is the key and hopefully Fast Eddie can live up to his moniker and test Vlad's jaw with some well placed hits. The word is that Klitschko's jaw is vulnerable and he has been KO'd before. Chamber's speed must also be tempered with his admirable defensive skills. I hope to see some good inside body punching unleashed by Chamber's as he proved effective inside against the prior opponent who was 6'7''. Body punches can score points and slow down the Ukranian giant.
Astoundingly, this fight will not be televised on pay TV here in the U.S. and one will have to pay to watch an internet feed to see the fight. Here's hoping a Philadelphia boy can bring home the World Heavyweight crown! I trust you all will root for Fast Eddie and keep a good thought or prayer for him this Saturday.

Minneapolis Trombone Choir 37th Annual Concert: On the Emotional Lives of Once and Future Brass Players

A frisky spirit makes my trombone sing.”
— Chris Barber, trombonist.

T he thirty-seventh annual concert by the Minneapolis Trombone Choir (MTC) was an exotic and thrilling experience. The performance this past Sunday evening at Judson Church in Minneapolis featured approximately 40 trombone players, some of them alternately switching to euphonium or tuba for several of the works that comprised the evening’s program. The pieces were conducted by Jim ten Bensel, Mike Bratlie, John de Haan, Tom Huelsmann, and Stan Bann.

S everal pieces of new music were performed, including Eric Ewazen’s ‘Concertino for Bass Trombone’, conducted by John de Haan, with soloist Derek Crosier and a trombone octet consisting of Neil Baumgartner, Doug Coleman, Zach Friesen, Lauren Husting, Scott Kruse, John Metcalfe, Greg Michnay, and Brian Wistrom. The 11-minute piece begins with an atmospheric chorale section, giving way to more aggressive, virtuosic, up-tempo writing. Crosier’s cadenzas (at 7 minutes and 9 minutes) were heart-felt, luminous things. Beautiful!

J im ten Bensel, who has directed MTC for many years, is a Yamaha trombone artist with Bachelor and Master degrees in music education from the University of Minnesota. He is currently on the faculty of MacPhail Center in Minneapolis, specializing in low brass and jazz combos. As a performer, Jim has toured with Stan Kenton, Henry Mancini, Ralph Marteri, and other bands. Jim currently plays with the Barbary Coast Dixieland Band, the Bella Gala Big Band, and the George Maurer group, among others. As a classical trombonist, Jim was in 1988 awarded ‘Best Classical Brass’ by the Minnesota Music Academy Awards.

S ome 40 years ago I’d received some lessons from Jim (who was then at U of M), and, through all these years, I’ve vividly remembered his engaging teaching methods. I’ve lived away from Minnesota most of the intervening years and have been logistically unable to attend his performances, so I looked forward to Sunday’s MTC concert with much anticipation.

M y anticipation was well-rewarded.

H earing a concert by Jim ten Bensel and his colleagues is a lot like having a heart-to-heart with a good friend. You alternately laugh and get misty-eyed, and, when it’s over, you feel a sort of renewed sense of what matters. Jim’s energy for putting sounds in the air is so genuine—so real—that you find yourself hoping it might linger in the air longer than is physically possible. Hoping.

I attended this event with family members, including my parents who are in their eighties. My dad has always held low brass instruments dear, having played euphonium in high-school band when he was a kid. When I was a child, my dad used to hum/improvise a hidden baritone part whenever a piece of classical music was playing on the stereo. Often, his humming would enable me to hear a part that was actually there in the score but was too colored-over by other, brighter instruments for my inexperienced ears to notice. At other times, his humming would be revealed to be completely spurious—an extemporized harmonizing with whatever else the composer had written. The mystery of how my dad was able to fluently/synchronously impute and hum a part into a piece of music that was unfamiliar to me (and to him?) fascinated me. Was part of what convinced me that music deeply made ‘sense’, despite the fact that it was pure magic.

A t any rate, with all the years of these built-up neuroendocrine ‘triggers’, and with all of us emotionally ‘locked-and-loaded’ just so, the MTC’s inspired performance of ‘Pilgrims’ Chorus’ from Wagner’s ‘Tannhäuser’ (well, not just that one, but other works on the program as well) proved more than sufficient to raise tears in the eyes of many in the audience, particularly us once-and-future brass-players. The MTC’s powerful transgenerational evocation of what music has meant to us—to each of us, throughout our lives, separately and together—was most welcome, handkerchiefs and all.

M inisters and priests, take note: the acoustic persuasiveness of 40 low-brass players pouring their hearts out in a modest-sized church sanctuary is a spiritual force to be reckoned with, one not unlike that of the world’s great cathedral pipe organs.

T he MTC encore (Meredith Willson’s ‘76 Trombones’) was icing on the proverbial cake for the enthusiastic 150+ lovers of brass ensembles and low-brass in attendance. Bravo!

Monday, March 15, 2010

Urban Moments

Working in the City nearly every day can be alternatively oppressive,exhilirating or fascinating;often, it is amusing. Now, I certainly am not amused by the plight of the less fortunate nor by the piteous circumstances faced by the Homeless in Philadelphia. Nevertheless, sometimes the signs they wield to beseech your contribution are amusing or even laugh-out-loud funny.. To wit, the one above about Spitzer the adulterer...that one received wide coverage.
Today I saw a young homeless kid with a sign which read: "Too lazy to work, too honest to lie." That just cracked me up...and I would have thrown him a bone but for the fact that he was an obvious heroin addict and did not need money but treatment.
Next, a guy in the Concourse had a sign which read: "Ninja's robbed me....need money for karate lessons"...again I had to laugh and give a nod to the creativity of a man who had the grace to be funny despite his miserable station....I threw him a Fiver.

Sunday, March 14, 2010

Lehigh beats Lafayette to go to the NCAA Tournament

Typically, a headline about Lehigh vs. Lafayette refers to College football's most played Rivalry. However, anytime Lehigh bests Lafayette in a sporting event it is a slightly greater triumph due to the rivalry between the schools. This week Lehigh beat Lafayette in basketball and secured the Patriot League title and a berth in the NCAA tournament. Normally, I am not a big March Madness fan as Basketball is not really a favorite. However, now that my Alma Mater is once again in the mix...I will be interested. Suffice it to say there is not much chance for my Lehigh boys to go very far...but it will be fun nevertheless. In fact, it brings back a great memory from Spring Break a while back...my best friend from College and I were skiing at Whiteface near Lake Placid for the week. Lehigh managed to make the NCAA Tourney that year as well...(1985 I recall). My buddy Glenn and I took the day off from the slopes and parked ourselves on stools at a Saranac lake Pub and watched Lehigh play Georgetown in the 1st Round. Our beloved Engineers were soundly trounced that day but it was fun while it lasted.