I’m going to meet a lot of movie stars — for a good cause.

I’m getting political I guess … but then again, things are so wrong, isn’t it about time artists got MORE polictical?

Compare:

Tonight is the opening of the Kitchener-Waterloo Symphony’s season. I’m in afternoon chill mode, so I thought I’d write a short post. There will be lots new tonight: a new look onstage, a new seating arrangement, an interesting opener, a surprise piece … and … bells!

You see, at the end of Pictures at an Exhibition the big church bells in Eb are never loud enough when played on chimes. They’re always overwhelmed by the gong, etc. I’ve tried three different solutions to this. At New World Symphony we came up with a digital sample; at the Chicago Symphony they actually have a huge church bell in Eb, which is amazing; in Kitchener we’re using normal chimes, but we put them through a digital effects unit that makes them louder and sound an octave lower. That might be the best solution if you have the equipment but can’t get the Chicago-style bell. Too over the top, you say? C’mon — it’s a SONIC SPECTACULAR. I use the technology when it helps.

Hope to see you at the concert tonight!

So I’ve been trying out a new outfit for summer concerts.

I wore it at the Hollywood Bowl at the Sgt. Pepper’s concert surrounded by rock-and-rollers, and it was no big deal. After all, I wasn’t wearing a captain’s hat, sunglasses, turtleneck sweaters, etc. like some of my colleagues were. But when I wore the same outfit last week to conduct a SF Symphony show w/ Bernadette Peters, I was the funkiest dressed besides Ms. Peters herself. This caused a mild stir, and an amusing description by Meredith Brody at sfweekly.com:

“The appearance of Edwin Outwater, resident conductor of the San Francisco Symphony from 2001—2006 and now Music Director of the Kitchener-Waterloo Symphony in Ontario, Canada, in a white shirt and dark tie, and close-fitting black vest over shiny grey trousers with prominent back pockets (needing only sleeve garters to evoke a riverboat gambler), elicited appreciative murmurs from the audience – something like wolf-whistles pitched so high that only a dog could hear them.”

Whenever I wear anything slightly different, I’m sure to get a mention in the paper. What does this mean? I think it means people are tired of tails, but are also slightly nervous when something new comes out, like the audience reaction described above.

Anyway, I’ll continue to play around with wearing different things in the right context. One thing I will not wear is the ghastly asian-mystic Nehru thing that so many conductors insist on wearing. Only two people should be allowed to wear this: Seiji Ozawa, who does the asian mystic thing very well, and Christoph Eschenbach, who looks like a starship captain which is also cool (”engage!”)

The amount of snow falling here is really incredible.  But the Canadians are coming to the concerts.  Which warms my heart.  To a Californian, seeing how people deal with relentless, adverse weather is actually inspiring.  No wonder so much great music was written in bad weather.

I had a fun time hearing Henry Rollins speak this week.  He basically stood in one place and went on about all sorts of stuff for over three hours.  It was pretty witty and entertaining, but the sheer endurance involved in such an undertaking was the most impressive part.  I felt reconnected to the pure punk energy of the 80’s — a great feeling.

… from floating around for a week in Maui 

… out of touch with the world, more or less.  Getting back to SF yesterday, I feel a bit overwhelmed by the amount of music ahead in the next few weeks, but I’m sure I’ll be firing on all cylinders before long.

It’s amazing how differently I’m feeling about some old favorites (Beethoven 5, Sibelius, etc.) after spending an entire week floating around. It’s not that my ideas about the pieces have changed, more like the way they transmit to me physically.  Smoother, but more powerful and deep. Hmm. Can I make this happen?

Conducting at the Music Academy of the West this week. It’s concerto week, and I must say this is a rather unusual program.

The five soloists who won the competition play piano, clarinet, BASSOON, TUBA, and DOUBLE BASS. As a bass player myself, I’m very pleased to be hearing all of these low notes. They’re all amazing players — so if you want to hear some subterranean sounds this week, come to this concert!

Another great thing about this week — how often can you travel to a concert with a surfboard strapped to the top of your car. That’s the way to travel.

On a recent trip to and from KW, I realized that my inflight entertainment (laptop, music, books) were all rants.

Reading: By Night in Chile, by Roberto Bolaño
Listening: Trout Mask Replica, by Captiain Beefheart and his Magic Band
Watching: Waking Life, dir. Richard Linklater

I guess I was in a ranty mood, or I needed some intense egocentric artistic energy or something, but it was good stuff.
The Captain Beefheart record was really awesome. I’d never heard it before — only his voice on Willie the Pimp, on Zappa’s Hot Rats. I think Beefheart is the Carl Ruggles of Rock and Roll. I’d like to buy some of his art, since I can’t afford Ruggles.

Roberto Bolaño is the Thomas Bernhard of Latin America, it’s a 130-page rant of a priest/coservative literary critic on his deathbed. He has some regrets, and they seem to involve his taste in literature and Pinochet. It’s all one paragraph. These sort of books are best to read on planes, since you can’t walk around, and the ranting helps you tune out the other passengers.

Waking Life isn’t as profound and philosophical as either work above, but it is a rather endearing glorification of “philosophical” stoner rants from college days. And like these rants themselves, they contain a few moments of genuine beauty and insight that are memorable and touching. I liked it.

Now on the non-rant side of things, I’m pretty excited about this …

Headed back north after a week at the Hollywood Bowl. It’s one of those rare “iconic” stages like Carnegie, Musikverein, Concertgebouw, etc. Always a pleasure. There’s some adjusting to do when I’m there, since there are four cameras pointed at you all the time. It means I really have to conduct for the audience as well as the orchestra, which is an interesting situation. The other important factor is that there is a larger audience. Instead of the usual 1800, it’s more like 18,000. It’s a vast sea of people. My response is, surprisingly, to be more intimate, and to make contact with as many people in the audience as I can. It keeps me anchored to them. I wonder how the Rolling Stones do it?