I find every journey to the South really really interesting. This is my first time in Memphis.

First, the orchestra: excellent group, great hall. They love to play music, which is what makes me happy when I conduct. No matter how good an orchestra is, if it feels like just another day at the office what’s the point? Of course I have to do my part to make this happen. So in many ways, when I’m working with a given orchestra in a given week, I’m thinking to myself, “How can the music-making be as vivid, as distinctive as possible?” Kudos also to David Loebel (music director - the real thing), and the excellent staff, who have really built something here.

The visit to the town has been full of feeling and emotion for me as well. Seeing the National Civil Rights Museum was incredibly moving because the facade of the museum is the actual Lorraine Motel, where MLK was assasinated.

What made it even more moving was seeing it in context. With Barack Obama elected president, MLK’s sacrifice and struggle really hit me more than ever before. But there was another context in which I saw this museum: it sits next to one of the poorest zip codes in America, with an infant mortality rate higher than Nigeria! We still have a long way to go. We can do better than this.

Also of course, this is the birthplace of blues and rock and roll. It’s still an enormously musical place. Shouldn’t cities like Memphis and New Orleans be our Vienna? They’re not of course. In the US we have trouble celebrating our own culture. The more I think about it, the culture we celebrate is just a reflection of having and making a lot of money. That’s why we don’t have Carnegie Hall in Memphis.

Beyond that — I’ve been exploring and eating. The best fried chicken ever (Gus’s), catfish, ho-cakes, and some BBQ to come. I’m going to try and hear some American music as well after rehearsal tonight.

Working with the Columbus Symphony this week. They’ve recently recovered from a near-death experience (the orchestra was dark for 6 months) where all sorts of bad things happened. Despite this, the orchestra is playing very well. They are a great group of musicians.

There are challenges ahead here, and everywhere for orchestras “in this economy” (that dreaded and ubiquitous phrase). I tend to look at the situation very objectively. It’s easy to point fingers, and play the blame game, but it’s not particularly productive, I think. The objective problem is this: orchestras are non-profits, they need more donors and more earned income (audiences). We need to get more people excited about orchestral music. How?

Well I always put my self in the shoes of one of these “new people.” Why aren’t they coming? Do they hate music? I don’t know anyone who hates music, actually. We all know why “new people” don’t come to the symphony. “It’s stuffy, elitist, snobby, boring, not fun, and they don’t play the music I like.” That’s what they say, but of course most of them haven’t been to a single concert.

It’s the image.

Why don’t orchestras work on their image more? It’s the key. We’re doing all the right stuff. We play a variety of music in my orchestra, from Bach to Radiohead. No one can say we don’t have at least one concert that offers “music they like.” We add untold depth and riches to our community through our educational programs, and by playing the worlds most beautiful music at the highest level.

But not enough people know that.

Image. Image. Image.

Let’s start with the word “symphony.” If you are not a symphony patron, does that word have a positive, negative, or neutral connotation? I think for many it’s a negative, because of its stuffy, snobby vibe. But there’s another romantic side to the word that I notice in contemporary culture. (Justin Timberlake, for instance, in his song “My Love” — “if I wrote you a syyyymmmphony.”) Can we turn the image of the symphony to the romantic thing Justin croons about in his song? We need to start at the very beginning with the word — symphony — that defines us. With imagination, we can make the word what we want it to be.

It’s Sunday afternoon, and I’m decompressing. It was a busy week.

We had TIME FOR THREE here this week, who played in our Intersections series. They got a good REVIEW in our local paper, The Record. The end of the review is really funny to me though. The reviewer comments that the orchestra didn’t have enough to do during the concert:

“Perhaps this show belonged with the symphony’s Pops series (where I would probably go see Tf3 again for all the froth and fun). While applauding Outwater’s efforts to challenge the boundaries of symphonic music in this series, I vote for more intersection and less wallpaper.”

Now I happen to agree strongly with the reviewer that the orchestra didn’t do enough. It’s a problem with Time for Three … they don’t have enough charts yet. They’re working on it. Even so, I couldn’t resist bringing them to KW asap., despite the fact that the orchestra would be sitting most of the time. In an ideal situation, the orchestra should have had more to do. No doubt.

But what’s funny to me is that he’s suggesting what does and doesn’t belong in the INTERSECTIONS series, a format I INVENTED only four concerts ago! That’s kind of cool — it must mean that the four shows that we’ve done already have a common vibe …

The real intention is that INTERSECTIONS is a completely flexible format, and that includes some concerts where the orchestra plays a lot (like the electronica show earlier this year) and sometimes not so much. It’s about whatever is new, interesting. In the case of Time for Three, the music they play is an intersection: it’s impossible to categorize as bluegrass, classical, country, hip-hop, etc. That’s why I think they belong in this series.

At any rate, this particular critical response shows the human need to categorize art, which is not what art is about, ultimately. But that tension has been around since the beginning of criticism.

There were some extra events around this concert, including an apres-concert gathering at the Jane Bond in Waterloo. Good turnout of musicians, staff, and audience. And we had a party at my place earlier in the week to attract new folks to the KWS. It was a younger crowd, and they got to hear Time for Three up close. Here’s a video of them playing for the party. It was their first time as a group in Canada, but they chose the right music to impress the Canadians! Soon they’ll figure out it’s not “Tom Horton’s” and then they’ll really be in business.

I spent (US) election night in Canada, basically by myself with a glass of wine (well, more than one). The next day I found myself being congratulated by various Canadians, not only because the guy they wanted won, but because our country had taken an enormous step into the future. It made me think a lot of America’s audacity, which can be both bad (last 8 years) and good (the election). I wonder what our future holds?

In town that week was Richard Stolzman, who played a tribute to Benny Goodman. Richard is what some of my musical friends and I would call a “spaceman.” An intrepid musical traveler who (successfully) explores the outer limits of musical phrases and colors and sound. What comes out of his horn sounds like nothing else on earth, and that’s a good thing. It was really really inspiring to work with him. His music-making immediately imprinted on my soul. What more could one ask from an artist?

Headed back to SF for two days of good food (Shanghai Dumpling King, SPQR, Suppenküche) and a short protest against the gay marriage ban (aka prop 8). Again, the Canadians reaction to that was interesting. It was basically, “What’s up with that?!” In Canada they’ve figured out that you can be “traditional,” deeply religious, and conservative AND not imprint your religious/cultural beliefs on others. Everyone gets along just fine. I think Prop. 8 is just a temporary setback.

Now I’m staying in Pasadena and got to see the Huntington Estate, which has the most beautiful and poetic gardens. It was a clear day, and the light was so beautiful, a sprinkler could be poetic.

And they had a cactus garden …

And a Japanese Garden …

These are all in the same place. Another one of those LA fantasies that really exist. It was a bit like a movie studio, because you could see where the fantasy gardens ended, and the desert climate and urban reality began. It added a whole layer of melancholy to the place, which made it even more beautiful.

So I had an interesting experience on Monday:

It was a great concert for a great cause: Paul Newman’s PAINTED TURTLE camp. Lord, there we lots of actors there, reading Hemingway while the SFS and I played Copland in the background. It was interesting seeing the different approaches to acting that these guys had. Some were totally prepared and intense about their scenes (Bruce Willis was amazing); some were wingin’ it (no comment). The kind of variation possible in how an actor work is huge. It’s much different for a classical musician. We have to play all the notes live, and get them RIGHT. That being said, the amount of charisma onstage was outrageous. That’s something classical music needs more of.

Since the actors were reading, it was all about the voice. It’s amazing how iconic these voices are. Jack Nicholson really talks like that! It’s wild. He shook my hand and said “congratulations,” and it took him twice as long to say that as most normal folks. And to hear Danny DeVito say “mashed potatoes” was hilarious! I mean, who says those words better? I thought Anette Benning had an extraordinary voice as well.

A personal highlight was meeting Edward James Olmos, who did an amazing job and clearly has a big, generous heart. He’s one of my favorite actors and is amazing in Battlestar Galactica (which I love love love*). At the end of the show he was pumping his fist in the air and yelling “yeah! thank you! thank you!” It would also be cool if we did that at the end of classical shows.

*for BSG fans: he told me “the end will be very satisfying — it will feel like the journey is really over.”

This week the KW Symphony and I are performing Wish You Were Here by Nico Muhly. Unfortuately, Nico couldn’t make it to the show so I asked him some questions about the score via email. I’ve never done this before, and it’s working pretty well. For those of you interested in what a conversation between a conductor and a composer sounds like, here are some of the more interesting excerpts:

[Before the first reherasal]
EMO: Electric bass — Mainly for articulation or do you want a lot of the sound?
NM: Just for articulation. You don’t really even need to use it; I just wanted to give the guy who plays it for the Boston Pops (who has amazing hair) something to do.
EMO: We’ll use electric bass. I’ll ask our guy to wear a cool wig and it’ll be fine.
(post rehearsal note - we tried with and without electric bass and it definitely sounds better with)

EMO: mm. 85. ob/trumpet. (where the 5/8 begins, if you don’t have a score handy) Those are the correct notes, right (different than the following bars)? I assume they’re different ’cause you wanted to soften the harmonic landing or it has something to do with the second oboe.
NM: Yeah, this is a little prelude information.

EMO: Any other things I missed, or advice for rehearsals/performance?
NM: In terms of general advice, I don’t have much! It sort of plays itself, this piece. There are a few moments that I always like to have MILKED OUT, namely, those glissandi in the cellos around figure N, which gets joined with the trombones – very sad, those moments!
(a few minutes later)
NM: Actually there are two things I always want to hear more of. You know the bass drum rimshot stuff in that section with the piano drones? I always want that to be like nine times as loud, like, dumb high school kids trying to do Peking Opera. The second thing is if your piccolo player can do a lot of vibrato in that whole fake gamelan bit (which I think I ask for but never explain that I mean almost out of tune!) we will be in good shape.

[After the first rehearsal]

EMO: Worked on the bass drum rim thing at letter S. We came up with a rim shot that also hits the membrane of the drum that makes it sound a lot louder and boomier, but still woody and percussive. It is a lot louder than it was when we started, maybe not 9 times louder, but hey.
NM: I like the idea for the bassdrum, it’s like a more proper rimshot.

EMO: At W I had the picc player use a really wide, slow vibrato. Not sure if it totally works, but we’ll see when we get in the hall for a dress rehearsal. The picc player asked if I we could send out a press release stating that this is not his normal vibrato, so I think we’re on the right track.

EMO: The violins and violas would love to know what you mean when you mark a passage “athletic.” They love poetic markings from composers, but this one is a bit mysterious.
NM: Now, as for athletic, all I mean by that is energetic but controlled; steady, studied. Think about the way ostinati need to feel in Shostakovich (like somebody who has never run in his life outrunning the KGB or whatever - frenzied) versus how they want to feel in Reich, which is almost like rowers or a team of dogs. That’s athletic. And come on, that’s not TOO poetic!
EMO: hmm — athletic. It came off to me as meaning virtuosic or something. The music doesn’t imply that anyone is running from the KGB! It seems like much of the passagework in the piece is “athletic” in the sense you mention, so it’s a bit confusing when a few particular passages are marked that way. I guess you mean it as a “safety” marking in those particular passages with the violins and violas.
NM: Yeah, that’s totally it. I mean it can get out of control. I use Britten as the model usually.

Sid Caesar and Nannete Fabray. Awesome.

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.

I’m getting up early these days to study and think about orchestral music. One interesting book I am checking out is Bruce Haynes’s The End of Early Music. He’s coming up with some fun terms like Canonic ideology (great respect for composers, represented by cults of genius and originality / the almost scriptural awe of musical “works” / an obsession with the original intentions of the composer / a practice of listening to music as ritual / the custom of reperted hearings of a limited number of works). Of course, before the 19th century classical music itself wasn’t Canonic, but it is now.

What’s interesting to me, as a modern orchestra conductor who is trying to bring in new audiences, is that my potential audience (the new members we are trying to get) don’t think Canonically either — levels of greatness are not as important as the variety of experience. Coming to hear the Great Masterworks played in a Ritualistic Manner doesn’t seem to strike a chord with folks of my generation. But here’s the good news: for this same audience, old isn’t necessarily bad. It’s an appealing proposition to hear amazing music from any time and place played really well, meaning without relying too much on ritual.

I agree that we’re in an age of musical pluralism, as Haynes says. I would add that we’re also in an age of Hybridization. More on that soon.

So I’ve been digging through lots of books and interviews with early music people, and here are two consistent streams I am finding:

1. No one claims to be authentic or correct - they’re just making a best guess with the research they have. (That’s a relief)

2. No one likes the automatic sustain and that pervades music now, i.e. Bach played like it is a “divine sewing machine.” Most agree that big sustain generally started around Wagner’s time. The HIP guys like strong beats/notes and weak beats/notes.

Other issues, like vibrato, double-dotting, swells on notes, period instruments, size and layout of an orchestra are of less concern, and vary more from artist to artist.

I think these are two of the most convincing ways of “getting into” historically informed performance with modern orchestras. I think enough time has passed that most players would now at least understand that automatic sustain is not necessarily the best for this music. Even so, as a string player, my ability to sustain a beautiful sound is one of the things I worked hardest to do! Taking that away from players is taking away one of their most precious and treasured skills. No wonder there’s some tension when sustain is taken out of the picture.

If we take on a historically informed approach with a modern orchestra, we’ve got to make sure we’re “giving back” MORE than we’re “taking away” to create excitement in the performance.