Our Intersections Series opens at the University of Waterloo tomorrow night:

On the program:

Aphex Twin - Cock/Ver 10
Mason Bates - Omnivorous Furniture
Jonny Greenwood - Popcorn Superhet Receiver

As you may gather, this program is about the intersection of orchestral music and electronica. Hope you can join us. Mason is fun to work with, and it warms my heart to hear the KW Symphony rip through hyperspeed drum-and-bass beats with such aplomb.

And now totally unrelated … one of the most fascinating media moments in recent history. This just happened. Watch the whole thing.

There were two concerts in SF this week imported from NYC. I guess you could call them “new music” concerts, though both concerts transcended that label and were more like “cool, engaging music” concerts.

On Monday night Nico Muhly* came through with Doveman and Sam Amidon, violist Nadia Sirota and Oren Bloedowand played at the Swedish American Hall on Market. The crowd was a bit small, and the concert was a bit long, but there was a lot of good stuff. I’ve been interested in Nico’s music for a while now, and was happy to finally meet him and hear him live. He’s getting a lot of press and attention these days, but I think for good reason. He stands out me for several reasons. First, he seems to actually understand pitch and harmony and knows how to put both “up front” in his music — so rhythm and texture don’t COMPLETELY dominate like they do in 99.9% of “new music” I hear. It’s refreshing to my rhythmically battered ears. Second, he really has a quirky and distinctive compositional voice and seems to be concerned with interesting and peculiar things. In both of the big pieces he played “Keep in Touch” and “The Only Tune,” he moves from a kind of sensual vibe, to a fetishy vibe, to a SCARY vibe and back again. That scary side of beauty and sensuality and form comes up in some film and literature these days, but not a lot of music. It kind of reminds me of the intricate map of emotions Hume draws out in his Treatise on Human Nature. The corner of the map Nico is exploring seems to be: “Things are really gorgeous and feel really good … now what can happen from here?” Well, all sorts of things. I look forward to hearing more. The other folks in the band were distinctive: Sam had a haunting detached folk voice, Nadia rocked on viola. I couldn’t understand what Doveman was saying most of the time but it seemed to be ultra-emo. Definitely an original combination of traveling musicians.

*Fashion Note: Nico Muhly wore a floor-length shawl for the whole concert. Well done, sir.

On Thursday, Ronen Givoney brought his Wordless Music series to SF with a sold-out concert featuring the Magik*Magik Orchestra, Benjamin Shwartz**, Joan Jeanrenaud, and William Winant. Many more people from the SF scene were there (probably because many of their friends were playing in the show), along with hipsters, “new music” fans, and Radiohead fans. There was music by John Adams, Fred Frith, Mason Bates, Arvo Part, and Jonny Greenwood. The music wasn’t easy to listen to, but the audience was rapt. BEHOLD THE YOUNG AUDIENCE FOR ART MUSIC!!! Many orchestras are looking for them, and they were at the concert that night. I felt like I had finally made a sighting after a five-year quest for a rare type of iguana. Why did they show up? Because Ronen and Co. know what music these folks actually want to hear, and how to reach them. Exploring the links on this post might be a good start if you’re curious about what the YOUNG AUDINECE might be interested in hearing.

** Fashion Note: Benjamin Shwartz wore a black shirt and WHITE SKINNY PANTS at the concert. Nice.

It was a beautiful sunset in SF tonight, so I went up on the roof, took a photo, and created my own Caspar David Friedrich moment.

MISS MUSSEL recently turned me on to a new blog called LIFE’S A PITCH by Amanda Ameer. It talks about the perception problems of classical music and offers many suggestions that just …. might ………… work! (gasp)

I’ve settled back in California for the rest of the summer. No more concerts for a while. I’ll be spending August working on a LOW-KEY LITTLE OPERA in San Francisco.

But this summer I’m researching and thinking about two things in particular, and in August I’m going into high gear.

First: How can we change the perception of THE SYMPHONY ORCHESTRA in THE COMMUNITY?

I’ve figured out where I want to go with this … here it is:

Old Perception: An orchestra is a Stuffy Place where people in Tuxes play Music I Don’t Understand written by Dead People for an Almost-Dead Audience

Desired New Perception: An orchestra is a a group of Virtuoso Artists who live in Our Town and play all kinds of Cool Music for Everyone.

Here’s the infuriating thing as far as I’m concerned — as far as What We Do, we’ve already reached “Desired New” status. We do all the things I mention (playing music for all kinds of potential audiences: from classical, to rock, to electronica, to jazz, to world music / audiences from kids to the elderly / great musicians who are part of the life of the community). The problem is - not enough people realize this because Old Perception is so powerful. There’s a huge gap here. How do we close it?

I’m thinking very abstractly at the moment about perception and taste, a catalyst has been a woderful essay by Carl Wilson called Let’s Talk About Love: A Journey to the End of Taste. It’s amazing and hilarious. Read it now.

The other thing I’m think about is Historically Informed Performance. My question:

Is there a way to play in a Historically Informed way that players of modern instruments (or at least enough of them) will really enjoy?

Currently reading:
Inside Early Music, by Bernard Sherman
The Interpretation of Early Music, by Robert Donnington
The Historical Performance of Music - an Introduction, by Colin Lawson and Robin Stowell
The Interpretation of Music, by Thurston Dart

More on this soon.

…so I think it might be a good time to BLOG a little bit.

Since I’ve been in LA and SF, I’ve taken it a lot of music … The Album Leaf, Devendra Banhart, Gilberto Gil, Stevie Wonder, and Matmos. The best concert was … wait for it … STEVIE WONDER. I was in the presence of a real living music god. I haven’t felt that way since I was around Ella Fitzgerald back in the day or Rostropovich - you get the idea. Please don’t miss seeing him live if you get the chance. He sounds perfect, his band and orchestra is hella tight (the string players DANCE for a good part of the show), and he somehow manages to play three hours of happy songs without being tedious. That is not easy. In fact I don’t know of any other living musician who has explored so many iterations of joy and happiness with such success. The other concerts were great too but … STEVIE … wow, how fortunate I was to have seen that.

I was in KW last week doing some VISIONARY PLANNING for the orchestra, and one thing we discussed is how to be innovative, I mean really innovative. One thing that always comes up is programming. Heck there was even a BIG ARTICLE about this in the New York Times recently. I, for one, didn’t find any of the programs mentioned particularly innovative, but I did find most of them good, artistic, musical experiences. I’m looking for more. It’s not the food that’s bad, it’s the the room, the vibe, the tired, non-inclusive, ritualistic, society-oriented presentation of music that the orchestra biz hangs on to for no good reason and which does them no service. Now there are some hardcore chowhounds like me who will go eat great food in an unappealing setting, ’cause the food’s just so damn good. But if I were a chef (and I am, d’orchestre), I would want my meals served in an attractive, modern place with good lighting and a hot wait-staff. The atmosphere of an orchestral concert is generally similar to the kind of stuffy restaurants Monty Python used to make fun of (with “waffer-thin” mints). I know some of the halls are old, but the vibe could still be spiced up quite a bit. With programming, I think there’s nothing new under the sun. It just has to be good.

I just got back from Chautauqua which is a strikingly unusual place. It’s a retro-utopia for intellectual white people. These folks (and there are thousands of them in this gated community) will go to a foreign policy lecture in the morning, then go water skiing, then see the symphony, opera, or ballet at night. This happens every day. It’s full of Victorian houses shoved really close together which goes against my personal idea of a summer retreat (which is to be in the woods far away from most people). All this being said, it’s an inspiring thing to see so many people willing to give up their personal space to spend the summer with ART and IDEAS … at the same time. I’ve never seen anything like it.

While there I had a long chat with a conductor friend who has a different take on music and programming than I do. He’s fiercely committed to a few pieces he really believes in — at the expense of many others. He was very proud of how small his repertoire was. I was kind of put off by that (Symphonies of Wind Instruments is BAD? Copland only wrote one good piece?), but I also admired how much he loved works he loved. I like lots of music, but sometimes feel I’m being stretched thin as a result of my broad tastes. I guess we all commit sins as artists, either by liking too little music (like him), or too much (like me).

Damn — I’m still stuck at O’Hare, even after all this blogging.

Back to normal again after the Sgt. Pepper show.  It was fun (see above)!  Here is a short list of things about this concert that I wish happened in classical music more often.

1. Everyone knew every note of the music we were playing 

2. I got to wear a rockin’ outfit (I’m the guy on top with the vest)

3. I got to sing backup

We’re working on Sgt. Pepper’s again at the Hollywood Bowl with Cheap Trick and Co. The band sounds amazing, and Robin Zander again blows me a away with his vocal power and ability. The entire band is so focused and tight, but the atmosphere is relaxed and fun. That’s the way to rehearse. I spent a lot of time working with the musicians on background vocals this time, trying to get the voicings right and the kind of light, blended and punchy sound that the Beatles had. It’s amazing how well the musicans play by ear, nailing every harmony perfectly off the top of their heads — it’s something I wish I could do better. I guess I process music through the page first, but it seems much more primal to process music without the eyes, using only the ears.

Speaking of that — I’m finally getting to see Stevie Wonder on July 7! I think he may be the best musician making music right now, period. Check out this report of a recent concert. I’m so there!

Well it’s been a while since I posted. Since we last checked in I finished the season with the KWS, including a wonderful performance of Les nuits d’été with the fabulous Measha Brueggergosman. She has a nice history with the orchestra, having done her first Verdi Requiem and more with the orchestra. She has the bearing of a diva, but the truth is she is a very serious, no-BS musician who likes to work things out. We have plans for future concerts in KW, and they are cool.

After the season, Tom and I spent a week in “cottage country,” Stratford, Niagara Falls, Niagara wine country, and Tornoto. It was nice to hang out in Ontario with out work hanging over my head — it’s a beautiful, fun place to hang. Next summer I have to get more of my Cali friends up here.

Then three days in Cardiff, Wales with the BBC National Orchestra of Wales (BBC NOW) for some radio recordings. Britten Cello Symphony with Danjulo Ishizaka and Hindemith Schwanendreher with Maxim Rysanov. These are two concertos that I’ll probably never get to do live without some serious explaining, but they’re both great works. The Cello Symphony in particular is not easy going for the listener. The music makes me feel trapped and empty. It is full of the intense yearning you find in Peter Grimes, but yearning for what? Britten never exactly answers the questions he poses in his music.

Now I’m back in SF, and I must have serious jet-lag because I heard Mahler’s Adagietto in the men’s locker room of my yuppie gym. This kind of stuff is what drove Daniel Barenboim out of this country. Anyway, I would like to believe that it subtly reminded all of us trying to keep fit, that we’re all gonna die anyway.