Nicht diese Töne!

Gifts for the holidays

2011-12-22T12:11:00.001-05:00

Seems that everyone is trying to cash in on the holidays...

On a serious note though, nothing welcomes in vacation and time with family quite like a rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody on the ukulele.

People In Glass's House Shouldn't Throw Stones

2011-12-04T18:17:00.001-05:00

People in Glass’s house shouldn’t throw stones.

I walked out of the Met two nights ago to the “Occupy Museums” protest at Lincoln Center and have since been struggling to reconcile the frustrated emotions.

Selah.

The message of “Occupy Museums” has been fairly vague – even for the protestors who began the OWS movement. The nut of it seems to be this statement on their website:

Join us in an open conversation about the effects of increased privatization and corporatization of all aspects of society, and the use of nonviolent civil disobedience around the world to reclaim the commons.

So the movement, which started out as a statement of frustration against the economic disparity and raw greed that has crippled our nation, has evolved into complaining about the cost of producing opera? And to top it off – Philip Glass is their star?

Admittedly, as I sat through the opera, recurring the themes of non-violent civil disobedience and standing up to legalized class discrimination made one think about the poignancy of Satyagraha at this particular moment in time, but who do they think paid for those gilded walls and retractable crystal chandeliers.

Here is how I understand the “OM” protests: during the Cold War, it was “Umerican” to provide public and private moneys to fund grand artistic ventures. We needed to compete with those “commie bastards” who were also funding their arts, although admittedly with a heavy curatorial hand. Once we stopped fighting the Soviets, public funding began to dry up. Come on, opera is for sissies – we need to drop $200 million into a NASCAR track. That is a political prerogative. Yet equating the unchecked unemployment and continued lax regulations on the financial industry with a statement that the arts in this country have become too corporate is – well, demeaning to both sides. For the OWS crowd – it belittles their purpose – do they want to change the way American companies treat their work-force or is their real intention to lobby for “Art for the masses” (which is harder to accomplish than one thinks, as the Soviet’s exemplified).

It is easy to see the Met as a ridiculous institution. It charges exorbitant prices for tickets (x2 on opening nights), and produces a variety of works that range from the antique to the fairly modern (sort of like in the middle-east, they are rocking the music and referencing the music from the previous decade)… Too controversial is never their thing – but let’s face it, when you have multimillion dollar productions and book your talent 2-3 years in advance, how are you able to program ANYTHING that addresses current events.

So now corporations and wealthy folk have stepped in and replaced some of the government funding... and now it is suddenly a pretentious and/or elitist affair? The commons need to be reclaimed?

Even within the Met, the code of conduct has ceased to exist. Imagine this guy sitting next to you. I saw him at Satyagraha.

The unashamed Met patron

(For the record, I did not actually see Judah Freelander, but only a reasonable facsimile).

You see every facet of life - sometimes out of convention you might put on a suit, but the dress code ranges from furs to jeans and torn t-shirts (also, uncomfortably - an older woman brought her grandchildren to last years production of Hoffman - and the collective expression when the stage filled with nipple-tassel clad women was hilarious). So no – once you are out of school they won’t continue to subsidize your tickets, but there is some half-decent art being produced in an only mildly pretentious atmosphere.

The opera actually forced me to confront the one real issue with OWS – they are fighting the good fight, but when it comes down to it, they aren’t willing to affect their permanent record. In each “clearing” of an Occupy site, they say X,000 were camped there, X0/X00 arrested. Glass highlights this important aspect of Ghandi’s work in South Africa, if the group is large enough and stands firm, they can’t arrested – the jails would overflow. It is difficult in this day and age to willingly be incarcerated – every job application has the obligatory question: have you ever been arrested? – a fact easily confirmed via the internet. Standing up for social inequality now could hamper your ability to find a job two decades from now – yet it is this indeterminacy (or let's say tourist, dilettante commitment) that prevents the movement from gaining true momentum.

In short – it does little good to sit outside of Lincoln Center on a “hunger strike” (yes, they threatened a hunger strike, although not much heard from since the threat), protesting the fact that a historically elitist art form is funded by capitalist swine (Bloomberg, Koch), and focus on the nut of the issue – the exploitation of a nation under the guise of "The American Dream" (see Anna Nicole Smith, the opera).

City Opera goes Slutty-Trashy Chic

2011-11-15T00:12:00.000-05:00

So City Opera has decided to take a new route in promoting their Cosi production. It is often rude to beat a lame horse when it is well, in debt, has no financial future, and is begging to be put out of its misery, but the new advert sent out really has me up in arms. Let's take a look. (guide your eyes just to the right of the text) ----------------------------------------------------------->

All of the subtlety of - high school - or young adults when they have free access to liquor. What is the premise here? Throwing ones life away on a gamble? Coitus on a free-form stage under the brooklyn bridge.

City opera is only the beginning. There are tremendously effective ways to make more relevant performances of great Mozart works. I think that, while on the more conservative side, the MET's Giovanni was sublime - the characters were (as a whole) so imposing... it was like a series of men who ignored conflict and charged on ahead, welcoming death as an alternative to the tedium of our mundane existences. One wants to try it all, but after the most wonderful joy is achieved - it is all empty - there is nothing left to go on for. THAT - is a brilliant recreation of Mozart, not this sad excuse at a statement on post-feminist gender roles.

Henry Cowell on Music as Propoganda

2011-09-03T19:51:00.000-04:00

A couple months back, I found a stash of "Modern Music" magazines, the quarterly periodical run by Aaron Copland, Henry Cowell and a group of other young composers from 1925-1946. I have been reading through them and plan to post interesting and relevant documents... sometimes with commentary, others that I think should just be read.

From May of 1945, an article by Henry Cowell entitled "Shaping Music for Total War"; a discussion about programming music for propoganda broadcasts.

Red Badge of Courage

2011-06-30T15:28:00.001-04:00

Too often it seems that people may use the title of Milton Babbitt’s “Who Cares If You Listen” as a red badge of courage. They scream that this is not what the article says, and that Babbitt was angry when it was named that. At various points, some unnamed publisher is also vilified for also bequeathing this title upon the article to increase circulation.

Having recently been the subject of one of these assaults (I titled a recent article “Emily Doesn’t Care If You Listen”), I plead that you read Babbitt’s article. I will do nothing to refute it. The article speaks for itself – and says exactly what the title suggests.

I typed out the essay (also downloadable here), and have provided a pdf download so that it can be widely distributed (there is one website online that hosts it freely, but it is rife with typos, errors, and did not format well when printed).

If, after reading, one is inclined to argue that the title of the article is an egregious misrepresentation, I am all ears.

2011-06-30T15:26:00.000-04:00

Who Cares If You Listen or; The Composer as a Specialist

By Milton Babbitt

From High Fidelity, VIII, no. 2 (February 1958), 38-40, 126-27 (download as a PDF here)

I am concerned with stating an attitude towards the indisputable facts of the status and condition of the composer of what we will, for the moment, designate as “serious”, “advanced”, contemporary music. This composer expends an enormous amount of time and energy – and usually, considerable money – on the creation of a commodity which has little, no, or negative commodity value. He is, in essence, a “vanity” composer. The general public is largely unaware of and uninterested in his music. The majority of performers shun it and resent it. Consequently, the music is little performed, and then primarily at poorly attended concerts before an audience consisting in the main of fellow professionals.

Towards this condition of musical and societal “isolation”, a variety of attitudes has been expressed, usually with the purpose of assigning blame, often to the music itself, occasionally to critics or performers, and very occasionally to the public. But to assign blame is to imply that this isolation is unnecessary and undesirable. It is my contention that, on the contrary, this condition is not only inevitable, but potentially advantageous for the composer and his music. From my point of view, the composer would do well to consider means of realizing, consolidating and extending the advantage.

The unprecedented divergence between contemporary serious music and its listeners, on the one hand, and traditional music and its following, on the other, is not accidental and – most probably – not transitory. Rather it is a result of a half-century of revolution in theoretical physics. Apart from the often highly sophisticated and complex constructive methods of any one composition, or group of compositions, the very minimal properties characterizing this body of music are the sources of its “difficult”, “unintelligibility”, and – isolation. In indicating the most general of these properties, I shall make reference to no specific words, since I wish to avoid the independent issue of evaluation. The reader is at liberty to supply his own instances.

First. The music employs a tonal vocabulary which is more “efficient” than that of the music of the past, or its derivatives. This is not necessarily a virtue in itself, but it does make possible a greatly increased number of pitch simultaneities, successions, and relationships. This increase in efficiency necessarily reduces the “redundancy” of the language, and as a result the intelligible communication of the work demands increased accuracy from the receiver (the listener). Incidentally, it is this circumstance, among many others, that has created the need for purely electronic media of “performance”. More importantly for us, it makes ever heavier demands upon the training of the listener’s perceptual capacities.

Second. Along with this increase of meaningful pitch materials, the number of functions associated with each component of the musical event also has been multiplied. In the simplest possible terms, each such “atomic” event is located in a five-dimensional space determined by pitch-class, register, dynamic, duration and timbre. These five components not only together define the single event, but, in the course of work, the successive values of each component create an individually coherent structure, frequently in parallel with the corresponding structures created by each of the other components. Inability to perceive and remember precisely the values of any of these components results in a dislocation of the event in the work’s musical space, an alteration of its relation to all other events in the work, and – thus – a falsification of the composition’s total structure. For example, an incorrectly performed or perceived dynamic value results in destruction of the work’s dynamic pattern, but also in false identification of other components of the event (of which this dynamic value is part) with corresponding components of other events, so creating incorrect pitch, registral, timbral, and durational associations. It is this high degree of “determinacy” that most strikingly differentiates such music from, for example, a popular song. A popular song is only very partially determined, since ti would appear to retain its germane characteristics under considerable alterations of register, rhythmic texture, dynamics, harmonic structure, timbre, and other qualities.

Third. Musical compositions of the kind under discussion possess a high degree of contextuality and autonomy. That is, the structural characteristics of a given work are less representative of a general class of characteristics than they are unique to the individual work itself. Particularly, principles of relatedness, upon which depends immediate coherence of continuity, are more likely to evolve in the course of the work than to be derived from generalized assumptions. Here again, greater and new demands are made upon the perceptual and conceptual abilities of the listener.

Fourth, and finally. Although in many fundamental respects this music is “new”, it often also represents a vast extension of the methods of other musics, derived from a considered and extensive knowledge of their dynamic principles. For, concomitant with the “revolution in music”, perhaps even an integral aspect thereof, has been the development of analytical theory, concerned with the systematic formulation of such principles to the end of greater efficiency, economy and understanding. Compositions so rooted necessarily ask comparable knowledge and experience from the listener. Like all communications, this music presupposes a suitably equipped receptor.

Why should the layman be other than bored and puzzled by what he is unable to understand, music or anything else? It is only the translation of this boredom and puzzlement into resentment and denunciation that seems to me indefensible. The time has passed when the normally well-educated man without special preparation could understand the most advanced work in, for example, mathematics, philosophy, and physics. Advanced music, to the extent that it reflects the knowledge and originality of the informed composer, scarcely can be expected to appear more intelligible than these arts and sciences to the person whose musical education usually has been even less extensive than his background in other fields. But to this, a double standard is invoked, with the words “music is music”, implying also that “music is just music”. Why not, then, equate the activities of the radio repairman with those of the theoretical physicist, on the basis of the dictum that “physics is physics”? It is not difficult to find statements like the following, from the New York Times of September 8, 1957: “The scientific level of the conference is so high… that there are in the world only 120 mathematicians specializing in the field who could contribute.” Specialized music on the other hand, far from signifying “height” of musical level, has been charged with “decadence”, even as evidence of an insidious conspiracy”.

Imagine, if you can, a layman chancing upon a lecture on “Pointwise Periodic Homeomorphisms”. At the conclusion, he announces: “I didn’t like it.” Social conventions being what they are in such circles, someone might dare inquire: “Why not?” Under duress, our layman discloses precise reasons for his failure to enjoy himself; he found the hall chilly, the lecturer’s voice unpleasant, and he was suffering the digestive aftermath of a poor dinner. His interlocutor understandably disqualifies these reasons as irrelevant to the content and value of the lecture, and the development of the mathematics is left undisturbed. If the concert-goer is at all versed in the ways of the musical lifemanship, he also will offer reasons for his “I didn’t like it” – in the form of assertions that the work in question is “inexpressive”, “undramatic”, “lacking in poetry”, etc., etc., tapping that store of vacuous equivalents hallowed by time for: “I don’t like it, and I cannot or will not say why.”

In search of what to think and how to say it, the layman may turn to newspapers and magazines. Here, he finds conclusive evidence for the proposition that “music is music”. The science editor of such publications contents himself with straightforward reporting, usually news of the “factual” sciences; books and articles not intended for popular consumption and not reviewed. Whatever the reason, such matters are left to professional journalists. The music critic admits no comparable differentiation. He may feel, with some justice, that music which presents itself in the market place of the concert hall automatically offers itself to public approval or disapproval. He may feel, again with some justice, that to omit the expected criticism of the “advanced” work would be to do the composer an injustice in his assumed quest for, if nothing else, public notice and “professional recognition”. The critic, at least to this extent, is himself a victim of the leveling of categories.

Here, then, are some of the factors determining the climate of the public world of music. Perhaps we should not have overlooked those pockets of “power” where prizes, awards, and commissions are dispensed, where music is adjudged guilty, not only without the right to be confronted by its accuser, but without the right to be confronted by the accusations. Or those well-meaning souls who exhort the public “just to listen to more contemporary music”, apparently on the theory that familiarity breeds passive acceptance. Or those, often the same well-meaning souls, who remind the composer of his “obligation to the public”, while the public’s obligation to the composer is fulfilled, manifestly, by mere physically presence in the concert hall or before a loudspeaker.

I say all this is not to present a picture of the virtuous music in a sinful world, but to point up the problems of a special music in an alien and inapposite world. And so, I dare suggest that the composer would do himself and his music an immediate and eventual service by total, resolute, and voluntary withdrawal from this public world to one of private performance and electronic media, with its very real possibility of complete elimination of the public and social aspects of musical composition.

But how, it may be asked, will this serve to secure the means of survival for the composer and his music? One answer is that after all such a private life is what the university provides the scholar and the scientist. It is only proper that the university, which – significantly – has provided so many contemporary composers with their professional training and general education, should provide a home for the “complex”, “difficult”, and “problematical” in music. Indeed the process has begun.

I do not wish to appear to obscure the obvious differences between musical composition and scholarly research, although it can be contended that these differences are no more fundamental than the differences among the various fields of study. I do question whether these differences, by their nature, justify the denial to music’s development of assistance granted these other fields. Immediate “practical” applicability (which may be said to have its musical analogue in “immediate extensibility of a compositional technique”) is certainly not a necessary condition for the support of scientific research. And if it be contended that such research is so supported because in the past it has yielded eventual applications, on can counter with, for example, the music of Anton Webern, which during the composer’s lifetime was regarded (to the very limited extent that it was regarded at all) as the ultimate in hermetic, specialized, and idiosyncratic composition; today, some dozen years after the composer’s death, his complete works have been recorded by a major record company, primarily – I suspect – as a result of the enormous influence this music has had on the postwar, non-popular, musical world. I doubt that scientific research is any more secure against predictions of ultimate significance than is musical composition. Finally, if it be contended that research, even in its least “practical” phases, contributes to the sum of knowledge in the particular realm, what possibly can contribute more to our knowledge of music than a genuinely original composition?

Granting to music the position accorded other arts and sciences promises the sole substantial means of survival for the music I have been describing. Admittedly, if this music is not supported, the whistling repertory of the man on the street will be little affected, the concert-going activity of the conspicuous consumer of musical culture will be little disturbed. But music will cease to evolve, and in that important sense, will cease to live.

My Article on New Music Box

2011-06-08T19:10:00.003-04:00

Excited to announce that my article on Emily Howell, the "computer composer" is now available @ New Music Box

Would love to hear people's comments or thoughts.

(took a screenshot from ArtsJournal today - Top Story!)

Emily Howell Article Top Story on ArtsJournal

Followup on Health Insurance

2011-05-23T22:26:00.001-04:00

In December 2009, I posted a series of emails I exchanged with my health insurance provider about the upcoming rate increases. I had calculated that if the premiums increased by 25% annually, we would need to earn $6.7 Million to pay our premiums the year before we became eligible for medicare (a mere $1.69 million when adjusting that number to today's dollars).

Fast forward to today. We now have very comprehensive insurance, but for some reason the company feels compelled to flaunt just how much the uninsured are taken advantage of.

Below is an excerpt from a "Statement of Benefits" from a recent procedure.

Notice that the hospital bills an uninsured person $7,889 for the exact same procedure that they bill my insurance $1,600. We ultimately paid 79.92 out of pocket, just under 1/100 that of an uninsured individual.

I say a special prayer every night for my wife's employer.

click to enlarge

Repackaging Classical

2011-05-18T16:13:00.003-04:00

If classical CDs aren’t selling, can we repackage them to make the product more appealing? If Jeremy Justeson’s album, “Pimpin’”, is any indication, “gangsta” is not the way to go.

There is little to distinguish Justenson’s newest album from a traditional classical saxophone cd. The cover has an “Explicit Content” warning, but the music fails to live up to the disclaimer. The last track is even mildly inappropriate. The liner notes are filled with awkward non sequiturs and desperate attempts to weave together the album's theme with the original intention of the pieces.

(from the notes on Tongue and Groove)

The title… is borrowed from carpentry, and is a method of fitting similar objects together edge to edge. In this piece, it refers to tonguing (in the score), a technique used on wind instruments to enunciate different notes, to the groovy feel of the marimba part, and to oral sex.

(from the notes on schizo ‘squito)

Very sudden and frequent contrasts in style, materials and register occur throughout much of the composition. The schizophrenic life of a mosquito seems an apporopriate metaphor – the insect rapidly alternates between frantically buzzing around and calmly drinking long and immensely satisfying drafts of its victim’s blood – and gives the work its title.

The entire experience is rather jarring. Justeson is so out of place with the leopard print lined smoking jacket, hat, and giant dollar sign necklace that the fur-laden women flanking him seem almost photoshopped in. From the cover alone, it could be assumed that the album might be an extension of alt-classical; a freely cross-genre method of composition that incorporates much of an American adolescence (that was not primarily classical music) with the canonic methods learned in school. Sadly, the compositions fit squarely within the style of contemporary classical composition. The “shtik” was just that – when the packaging is removed, there is nothing to distinguish this album from hundreds of other poorly-selling classical saxophone albums released each year.

Does the repackaging of otherwise unsellable material to seem more relevant serve any purpose? The potential buzz might sell a few more copies, but it only strengthens the idea that classical music is not in touch with the present day.

One of the greatest examples of “repackaging” is Threnody for the Victims of Hiroshima. Originally entitled 8’37”, when Penderecki heard his work, it evoked an image of suffering and pain, and in renaming it, offered a new perspective on his work. In reconceiving the work, he transformed an esoteric piece using imprecise pitch notation into a realist requiem that can stir the excitement of any individual.

Yet in the instance of “Pimpin’”, Justeson attempts to fit his recordings into preconceived notions of what is popular and successful in a genre that it would seem he knows little about. The painfully rigid liner-notes highlight the extent to which he attempts to take unrelated classical pieces and force them into this larger idea, but the end result is a depressing collage of conservatory recital pieces.

It is commendable that Justeson took a risk in releasing an album without simply conforming to classical recording industry norms, but the product failed to conform to the wrapping.

Jeremy Justeson outside of what appears to be a sex shop

Why cutting funding for NPR, NEA, etc. is fiscally irresponsible

2011-03-18T11:56:00.000-04:00

The house voted yesterday to cut all federal funding to NPR.

This discussion is not about whether or not one agrees with this in principal but practical exploration of whether it makes sense to waste the time discussing and voting on it.

For the sake of estimated costs, we must rely upon numbers from the last completed fiscal year (as we do not know how many days Congress will be in session or unforeseen expenses in 2011). In 2010, Congress had appropriated somewhere between $4.6 and $4.7 billion to operate in 2010. It was in session for 127 days last year. That puts the cost-per-day-in-session at $36,614,173.

Based upon this figure, if more than 2/3rds of a day of a session was spent on this bill, it would have cost the same to tacitly continue the funding as to debate and vote against it. If more than 2/3rds of a day was spent on the bill, it would have been cheaper for Congress to have ignored the issue entirely.

Sadly, twitter

2011-02-18T00:01:00.002-05:00

Well, #budgetclassical won me over. On twitter now? Follow #noahsweber ?

Fiel Herzog - Diogo Ahmed

2010-11-17T21:53:00.003-05:00

Fiel Herzog, by Diogo Ahmed, is based on a tragic true story of two men killed by the Brazilian government in 1975, and the response to their murders, which ultimately lead to major reform and democratization.

Manoel Fiel Filho and Vlado “Vladimir” Herzog:

Vlado Herzog was a Jewish journalist and playwright. Born in Yugoslavia in 1937, his family left for Brazil in the early 1940's to escape the facist government set up by Mussolini. He received a degree in Philosophy from the BBC in London for several years before returning home to become chief editor of TV CULTURA, a state media network. His controversial work as a playwright and political activity brought the scrutiny of the military dictatorial government upon him.

Manoel Fiel Filho, a machinist in a metal sculpting shop in São Paulo, was born in the poorest region of the country and came to the city hoping to provide a better life for his family. With no active ties to formal political organization, he was arrested because another prisoner confessed under torture that Fiel had worked for a clandestine newspaper.

Though Herzog and Fiel had never met, they shared the same death chamber, only a few months apart. Both me were tortured, killed, and hung from their belts to stage their suicides. Their bodies were only returned to their families after being threatened against discussing the incident, yet when the chief Rabbi saw the signs of torture on Herzog’s corpse, allowed the martyr to be buried in the center of the cemetery, a sign of honor and explicitly forbidden for suicides.

This public acknowledgement of murder instigated riots and protest, and his death became a defining moment for the social revolution in Brasil. Fiel was sadly one of the last men to be accused of “suicide”. Arrested three months after Herzog, he was tortured for sixteen days, in a final search for subversive elements by the desperate government. The final victim of his torture, his death is should not be forgotten.

This piece uses several musical images to represent different elements of this tragedy:

- The French Horn represents the hunter.

- The tutti (group) attack symbolizes the attacks against liberty, both of the individual and the country.

- The utopia idea of lyricism on melodic phrases.

- The solo piano captures the solitude and fear of imprisonment.

- Modal melodic themes and rhythms, typical from the Brazilian Northeast where Manoel Fiel Filho was born.

After their deaths, an article came out in the newspaper closed with: “…an echo of eternal voice of freedom that never shuts.” I pay tribute to these two heroic figures, while conscious that this tragedy is not unique and homage is due to many others whose lives are lost every day in the fight for freedom.

Brazilian-born conductor and composer Diogo Ahmed has appeared as conductor with the UNI-RIO Chamber Orchestra, the Orquesta Estable de Tucuman, Argentina, and the Orquestra Sinfônica de Recife, Brazil. His orchestral and chamber works have been played throughout Brazil, Europe and the United States, and he has written more than twenty-five theater and film scores. He directed "The Book's Sound" for the National Library of Brazil. He is an Artistic Director of CONTEMPORANEOUS, a new-music ensemble based in New York and CAMERATA ELECTRA, a similar ensemble based in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.

Ahmed holds a B.M. in composition and conducting from the University of Rio de Janeiro, an MFA from Conductors Institute at Bard College, and is currently pursuing a DMA in Conducting at Arizona State University.

Program notes by Diogo Ahmed and Noah S Weber

Shostakovich Symphony No. 4 Program Notes

2010-11-17T17:48:00.001-05:00

Shostakovich Symphony No. 4 in c minor Op. 43 (1935-36)

Assassination confronted Dmitri Shostakovich with every pen-stroke made in composing his Fourth Symphony. In 1933, Shostakovich’s second opera, Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk District, was given wide acclaim as the next great work from this compositional prodigy. It was his first major work after he stunned his professors and critics alike with his First Symphony when he was only nineteen. Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk District was a foray into the plight of suffering women in Russia. Shostakovich was a pacifist and this motif of suffering appeared in many forms throughout Shostakovich’s music; from the assassination of Kadet Sailors to the mass-slaughter of Jews at Babi-Yar. This very frank and satirical opera was a tremendous success for the two years after its original production. In January of 1936 Stalin witnessed a new production of it and stormed out before the third act. In an anonymous editorial published the following day entitled “Muddle, Not Music,” Shostakovich was publicly denounced for his work which “sympathized with the enemy,” and he was considered persona non grata. Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk was banned from the Russian Theaters.

It was during this time that Shostakovich began to breathe life into his Fourth Symphony. He attempted several sketches of the work beginning in the fall of 1935, and had begun the formal composition of it when Stalin’s decree crippled him both professionally and financially. Assuming his denunciation meant that execution was inevitable (as it had been for too many of his friends and colleagues), Shostakovich continued to compose what might be considered his eulogy. He was quoted many years later as saying, “Instead of repenting, I composed the Fourth Symphony. Still, he knew that if he could appease the ever so fickle musical tastes of Stalin and the censors, his life might be spared. It was said that he would sleep in the hallway with his suitcase for several weeks after the opera was withdrawn to prevent his family from being disturbed if he were taken by the police.

The Leningrad Philharmonic Orchestra had agreed to premiere the symphony in the winter of 1936, but Shostakovich abruptly withdrew it mid-rehearsal. There are many rumors as to why it was withdrawn in the middle of rehearsal, from its complexity and technical difficulty to threats of violence from government officials. Still, Shostakovich was deeply attached to this work and reduced it to a piano four-hand arrangement with the hopes that its potential might be recognized and that a public performance might eventually come to fruition. This massive symphony was left in Leningrad during the 872 day siege, and it was believed to have been burned for heat during that battle. In 1960, the original parts were found and Shostakovich reconstructed and revised the score, seven years after Stalin’s death. Its world premiere was given by Kyril Kondrashin and the Moscow Philharmonic in the winter of 1961.

The Fourth Symphony was his most massive work when it was composed. Requiring over one hundred musicians and extending over an hour long, it represented his deep inner struggle with the Soviet censors. Within it are many stylistic and motivic allusions to other composers’ works, but most notably the symphonies of Gustav Mahler, whom Shostakovich had just become enamored by.

The first movement is rendered with a remarkable similarity in form to Gustav Mahler’s third symphony. As if to solidify the charge against him of being a “Formalist,” with seemingly chaotic ideas resides a quasi-sonata form, involving a development of material during the exposition as well as a “reverse recapitulation” with the second theme appearing first.

The second movement is in the style of a German ländler, in a sonata-rondo form, with extensive development made on both reurring themes.

The third movement references thematic material from various composers, but the politically most sensitive was his allusions to Gavril Popov’s First Symphony. Removed by the Soviet censors just before Shostakovich’s opera was condemned, Popov was further persecuted by the authorities by way of a lifelong ban on performances of his music for his connections with Shostakovich. This hommage may have been intended as a meager apology for his friend’s suffering.

The largo, a Marcia Funebre, is reminiscent of several of Mahler’s dirges. A volatile tocatta spins into a comical divertimento, which in turn climaxes at a grand chorale and the coda is an eerily poignant reminder of the thoughts of impending death that the composer felt during the entire scoring of this piece.

Shostakovich matured immensely between the composition of his Fourth and Fifth symphonies. Vladimir Ashkenazy suggested, “…there is a distinct border, a watershed, between the Fourth and Fifth. My guess is that... there was a spectacularly talented young composer in the Fourth Symphony. And I think in the Fifth Symphony there is already a man who has suffered a lot, who developed a way of expressing himself. In the Fourth it is not yet self-expression. It's just the reaction of a very interested individual to the world around him.” The Fifth Symphony, composed furiously in a three-month period and completed just one year later, was a response to his interactions with the earlier work. Shostakovich had been denounced and still continued to write this “Subversive” “Work of Fomalism.” Possibly the only major public figure to be publicly condemned by Stalin and survive, death loomed eerily over his shoulder, and yet he continued his composition with fanatic zeal. If his Fifth Symphony is a developed tour de force inspired by the suffering of an oppressive regime, the Fourth Symphony was the masterpiece he suffered so greatly to create.

Prokofiev Sinfonia Concertante Program Notes

2010-11-12T03:26:00.006-05:00

Sergey Prokofiev (1891-1953) wrote his Sinfonia-Concertante, or Symphony-Concerto, as a dying man, crippled by the pressures of being an artist in the Soviet Union. An avidly apolitical man, he had returned to his homeland not out of solidarity for the Communist Party, but because he missed his family and native tongue. Once trapped in the brutally authoritarian country, his only desire was to write music and have it performed. The authorities, however, labeled him a formalist – deeming his work too associated with western style – which ultimately lead to various forms of persecution in the last years of his life.

Yet Prokofiev had the experience that every other Soviet composer could only imagine, but never fulfill – a chance to compose freely. He entered the Saint Petersburg Conservatory at 13, but despite his tremendous talent, he had a disdain for authority, which made his decade at the school an exercise in constant opposition, is reflected in his compositional style.

In 1918, at the age of 27, the composer set off for a tour of America that was intended to last several months. Having been a prodigy turned avant-garde enfant-terrible, he was immensely popular not only in Russia but throughout Europe and had in the four years since his graduation spent time touring the continent. America was seen as a major musical importer, desperate to take on its burgeoning role as a world power by being at the forefront of artistic innovation. Sensing a tremendous opportunity, Prokofiev hoped to capitalize on it. Little did he know that when he left the Soviet Union, he would not return for nine years.

The trip to America proved to be less fruitful than Prokofiev had hoped. He had grand ambitions that did not materialize when he lost engagements because works commissioned would end up larger and more complicated than originally planned. Feeling a sense of despair and not wanting to return home after a failed venture in the United States (and unaware of the extent of the turbulence in his country), he set off for Europe, ultimately establishing himself in Paris. In competition with Igor Stravinsky, “the other Russian in Paris,” Prokofiev felt that he had to define his own style. It was in this time that he created some of his best work, such as
Love for Three Oranges
and the Third Piano Concerto.

As a virtuoso pianist, gifted conductor and exotic composer, commissions and engagements continued to keep him well occupied, allowing him to reject several advances from Soviet theaters for commissions.

It was not until 1927, after a few failed ventures, that he agreed to return to Russia for a tour showcasing the music he had composed while abroad. Presenting twenty-one concerts in five cities, he was given a hero’s return and was able to rekindle dormant friendships. While it took him ten years to give up his passport, he was in USSR so frequently that the state granted him an apartment in Moscow in 1933.

Once a permanent resident of the Soviet Union, Prokofiev was offered many opportunities to compose, but very few works were heard by an audience. His pieces were often shut down in the middle of rehearsal, and others required “closed viewings” for the censors, of which few were approved. While each rejection took a physical and mental toll on his well-being, he was always optimistic about future projects. When asked how he felt about the censors continually rejecting his works, Prokofiev replied, “at least someone is listening to them.”

The composer’s health continued to deteriorate, and when his music was officially condemned as “Formalist… marked with formalist perversions… alien to the Soviet People,” he was too weak to defend himself in a hearing. Writing a response to be read aloud in his absence, he said:

The Resolution… has separated decayed tissue in our composers’ creative production from the healthy parts. No matter how painful it may be for many composers, myself included, I welcome the Resolution, which establishes the necessary conditions for the return to health of the whole organism of Soviet music. It points out with ultimate clarity the aims that Soviet composers must attain to be of the greatest service to the Soviet people.

While statements of remorse and self-reflection were expected following an anti-Soviet accusation, there is reason to suspect that Prokofiev was sincere. Unlike Shostakovich, who became increasingly more subversive following his condemnation, ultimately writing his Tenth Symphony as a declaration to his triumph over Stalin, Prokofiev only hoped to return to favor with his people so his works could be performed.

Cartoon Originally published in Sovetskaia Muzyka, 1948 No. 2 and reprinted in Music In the Western World by Pierro Weiss and Richard Taruskin, 1984

It was only two years after his fall from grace that he began to work on the Sinfonia-Concertante, which was to be his last masterpiece, composed between 1950 and 1952, and based on his Cello Concerto. He was inspired to write the work after hearing Mstislav Rostropovich perform his long forgotten Cello Concerto. Composed as he was moving back to the USSR, it lacked tightness and cohesion, suggesting his uncertainty as he took the final steps behind the Iron Curtain. Years later, Rostropovich recounted the incident:

I remember when I played his Opus 58 Concerto in recital with piano. Prokofiev was in the audience and he came up to me afterwards and said, "I think there is some good material in the piece, but I don't like its shape. How would you like to work with me on revising it?"

Taking many elements from the original concerto, Prokofiev reconstructed and refined the work, with the orchestra serving as more of an equal to the cello than as an accompaniment.

Israel Nestyev, Prokofiev’s principal biographer, describes the work:

The first movement is a kind of lyrical introduction to the whole work. The two principal themes… are fine examples of the pensive but singing lyricism so typical of Prokofiev’s later writing… The first theme the more vigorous of the two, has a fervent, impassioned quality, while the second is noble and tender … descending chords in the muted strings creates the atmosphere of a strange, shadowy dream.

(In the second movement) From the moment the cello enters with an introductory cadenza, it is clear that it will play the protagonist’s role.

The compelling and dramatic opening theme, which first appears in angular, instrumental form, suddenly assumes the character of a transparent Russian melody. Another sharp contrast… where unadorned epic lyricism is replaced by a comic, semi-fantastic dance.

The finale is written in an interesting form – a three-part variation movement containing two themes (variation movements generally use a single melody and change the presentation with each repetition).

Not satisfied with strict variation techniques, the composer later transforms it into a playful dance with amusing accents and humorous orchestration. The second theme is in the style of a folk dance. After another set of variations on the first theme, the second movements grotesque theme appears in a substantially altered guise.

Prokofiev managed to live long enough to hear the premiere, performed by Rostropovich in February of 1952, but died before it could be published and gain worldwide recognition. In a twist of fate, he passed away on the same day as Stalin, supposedly moments after the dictator. On March 5, 1953, the musical community was torn between the celebration of the death of their oppressor and the loss of one of their most cherished colleagues.

Tchaikovsky Symphony No. 5 Program Notes

2010-11-09T20:39:00.005-05:00

Another installment of my "user friendly" program notes, originally for the Gulf Coast Symphony

Tchaikovsky Symphony No. 5 in E, Op. 64

Composing his Fifth Symphony in only four months during the spring and summer of 1888, Pyotr Il’yich Tchaikovsky was reborn as a composer. Suffering several professional setbacks as various works were poorly received, he was unsure of his capacity to continue producing symphonic music. It had been ten years since his Fourth Symphony was premiered, and in th

at time, several operas, a symphony and several anthologies worth of songs went unsold or unplayed. In a letter to his brother, written just as he began sketching, Tchaikovsky wrote:

To speak frankly, I feel as yet no impulse for creative work. What does this mean? Have I written myself out? No ideas, no inclination! Still, I am hoping to collect, little by little, material for a symphony.

For most of the precending decade, he had been tormented by a painful divorce. In 1877, Tchaikovsky received a frantic love letter from Antonina Milyukova, an ardent admirer. When he politely declined her advances, she threatened suicide. Having just composed the scene in Eugene Onegin in which Onegin ruthlessly rejects Tatyana, Tchaikovsky felt sympathy for the misguided woman, and agreed to see her.

Within one week, Tchaikovsky proposed to Antonina. The motivations for this rash decision have been widely discussed, but it is known that he told Milyukova that there could be no physical relationship. Whether she threatened to expose his “sexual deviance,” or he was independently concerned about rumors which began to circulate in Moscow is unclear, but she agreed to the terms and they were married a month and a half later.

Very quickly, it became apparent that his marriage would not work. Before even returning home, he wrote a letter to a patron asking for money to help escape. He took every foreign engagement offered, and within three months had suffered a nervous breakdown. His doctor recommended that contact with Antonina be cut off completely. Separation and divorce proceedings began, but his wife refused to finalize and Tchaikovsky feared she might expose [him if she was pressured.

Tolerance for homosexuality in Russia during the late 19^th century was not dissimilar from “Don’t ask, don’t tell.” Interestingly enough, Tchaikovsky had his first encounters with men during his time in law school, which had been at certain times synonymous with “sexual freedom.” Still, the nobility officially condemned “deviant behaviors,” and Tchaikovsky’s recent rise to fame would have been crushed if his personal life were ever put in the papers.

In the first two years of this turmoil, Tchaikovsky threw himself into his work, completing the Fourth Symphony and Eugene Onegin, and well writing the Violin Concerto as well as the Serenade for Strings, the most popular composition during his lifetime. Soon, the stress took its toll and the quality of his work decreased, both in his eyes and in the critics, who excoriated him in the press.

It was during this time that his relationship with his mysterious patron, Nadezhda von Meck, began to flourish. Von Meck was a wealthy widow, and became Tchaikovsky’s principal patron, allowing him to leave his teaching position at the conservatory. Their relationship was very odd, as she demanded that they never meet. For fourteen years they exchanged regular correspondences, and Tchaikovsky would vacation at her estate when she was away, yet on the sole occasion that they were accidentally in the same place, she passed by without saying a word. She became a muse for him, helping him through the lowest point in his life, and ultimately convincing him that he had the capacity to write another symphony when he thought that he had nothing left to give.

In sketches for the Fifth Symphony, Tchaikovsky scribbled a basic programmatic outline:

Program 1st movement of symphony.
Introduction. Total submission before fate, or, what is the same thing, the inscrutable designs of Providence.
Allegro. 1) Murmurs, doubts, laments, reproaches against... XXX
II) Shall I cast myself into the embrace of faith???
A wonderful program, if only it can be fulfilled

Many of his previous works had been somewhat autobiographical, but this symphony would prove to be his most personal. The opening theme, played somberly by the clarinets, repeats itself in every movement, transforming as it progresses, suggesting his own journey with the inevitable.

The introduction transforms into a slow march, then quickly brightens into a frantic outpouring of emotion, regularly traveling from the most delicate weaving pizzicatos to full forced climaxes in a matter of seconds. The militant style returns several times, competing against the emotive, and ultimately ends the movement, dying away until inaudible.

The somber mood returns in the second movement, with the strings emerging from the nothingness that ended the previous movement. The horn begins one of the most famous solos in the repertoire, a tender, contemplative lament.

This begins a series of solos and counter-solos, as if Tchaikovsky is discussing back and forth with the unknown. The fate motive returns violently in the brass, replacing pensiveness with determination.

The melody that the horn introduced in the beginning returns, but now joyously and with tremendous excitement, having confronted fate.

The third movement begins with a sweet, flowing waltz, painting a picture of a Viennese ball. A manic scherzo follows, weaving fast, insect-like lines between the winds and strings. All of this repeats in the classical style, and then once again fate returns, almost jokingly, in a dance rhythm, unwinding until only the melody is gone and only the rhythm remains.

The Finale is a testament to obsession. Fate is the principal theme in this movement, repeating itself in various styles and emotions. It begins arrogantly, a false sense of triumph over destiny.

Very quickly, confidence is lost, and the theme becomes less authoritative. This back and forth between pride and fear continues, each time he develops some aspect, never the same twice.

Contrasting melodies interject until a final, resolute statement of the theme leads to a boisterous and bombastic end.

Webern Op. 10 Program Notes

2010-11-09T19:41:00.013-05:00

I was asked to write program notes for an orchestra's website a few years back. The criteria were that they needed to be geared towards a "lay audience," and be interactive if possible.

Since it was a few seasons ago, the orchestra has taken them down, but I wanted to know what general thoughts were regarding these notes. I tried to take several works and contextualize them for a larger audience.

Webern Op. 10

Only months before beginning his Fünf Stücke für Orchester (Five Pieces for Orchestra), Anton Webern (1883-1945) made this statement about his compositional process:

“I had the feeling that once the 12 notes had run out, the piece was finished… It sounds grotesque, incomprehensible, and it was immensely difficult.” No piece captures the succinct style of Webern’s eloquent grotesqueness better than his Opus 10, composed between 1911 and 1913.

To understand Webern it is important to look at the musical and political world in which he lived. The unification of the German states in 1871 brought a nationalistic change to the way music was viewed. A century of German dominance became viewed as Social Darwinism at work, with the fittest nations outperforming and ultimately outliving the lesser ones. Composers’ works were now being considered not simply for their own legacy, but for that of all Germany.

Webern, Schoenberg, Berg and a handful of other young composers at the turn of the century felt a tremendous weight hanging over them.They believed they were given the task of continuing the German legacy, composing the climax to a century of brilliant developement, without any guidance or sense of direction. In truth, their perception was not unjustified - the 1890’s had seen the deaths of many of the great German composers (Brahms, Liszt, Bruckner), and attention was turned towards finding something new.

The quality of German composition was evaluated by its innovation as much as by its aesthetics. Beethoven made convention obsolete – within thirty years of his death, music changed at such a rapid pace that many, including Berlioz, Wagner and Liszt, felt that the symphony itself was so anachronistic that it could not be used for serious music. In Tristan und Isolde, there isn’t a sense of full resolution for four hours. Music was perpetually becoming longer, louder and more complex. The young composers struggled with this.

Arnold Schoenberg, Webern’s teacher (although just nine years his senior), composed Verklärte Nacht in 1899. Only half an hour long, it moves with tremendous violence through keys and colors, traveling the tonal distance of a Mahler symphony in under half the time. While it still uses key signatures and cadences (moments of resolution), it forces jarring harmonic transitions that suggest terror of the unknown.

This was his last tonal piece, with subsequent compositions existing in amorphous ether that many of the compositions over the next sixty years would attempt to navigate.

Beginning his studies with Schoenberg in 1904, Webern quickly transformed his style from simple academic exercises

to a turbulent storm of emotion. His final piece as a student, the Passacaglia Opus 1, reflects his inner struggle to find a voice for himself, yet is still confined by his teacher’s predispositions.

Schoenberg was enamored of the tremendous scale of his predecessors, and famously, once had to write to his publisher asking them to custom-make larger manuscript paper because none was available in the tremendous size he needed. Once the confines of traditional harmony were removed, Webern found the both the magnitude of sound and length of contemporary composition unnecessary, and his work immediately began to focus on smaller, more intimate expressions of tonal color.

Webern began using a technique called Klangfarbenmelodie, or Tone-Color-Melody. With this process, lines are broken up and passed between instruments, adding musical excitement and drama to each part of the phrase. The most accessible example of this is his arrangement of J.S. Bach’s Musical Offering.

Webern takes a multi-voice fugue that was written for unspecified instruments, and explores each instrument’s timbre, painting in vivid color on the 18^th century canvas.

The Five Pieces for Orchestra use the same technique, only with a contemporary melody. Here is the first movement played only on piano. It might seem somewhat random and incoherent. Now here is the same movement played as he wrote it. While not a lullaby, it has a beautiful quality, with each of the instruments’ unique tones shading the passage.

Begun only three years before Europe was to tear itself apart in the First World War, there is angst and uncertainty in the work. Lasting approximately five minutes, the Fünf Stücke explore five separate emotions. The first movement evokes waking from a drunken slumber. Unsure of its footing, it is rhythmically unsettling. The second is more aggressive, suggesting the German’s methodical nature in spite of that which surrounds him, as in the beginning of Kafka’s Metamorphosis, when Gregor is more concerned about missing work than that he has mutated into an insect. The next movement is characterized by the delicateness of the harp and celesta, which sound like crystal being rung. The fourth movement is one of the shortest movements ever written (approximately 23 seconds), with only a handful more notes than John Cage’s 4’33. Webern’s use of the mandolin, about the least likely instrument in an orchestra, adds to an element of the foreign, foreshadowing the unexpected finale. The last thoughts of this work do not provide a profound answer but instead unwind chaos into nothingness.

No prose expresses Webern’s own sentiments like the forward Schoenberg wrote for his student’s Bagatelles for String Quartet, written at the same time as Op. 10:

Consider what moderation is required to express oneself so briefly. You can stretch every glance out into a poem, every sigh into a novel. But to express a novel in a single gesture, a joy in a breath – such concentration can only be present in proportion to the absence of self pity… Does the musician know how to play these pieces? Does the listener know how to receive them? Can faithful musicians and listeners fail to surrender themselves to one another?

These pieces will not be hummed while leaving a concert, but they offer a keen insight into a confused world, lost amid the technology and political turmoil that envelop them.

I give this opera 3 1/2 stars?

2010-10-12T14:06:00.003-04:00

It was recently pointed out that the Financial Times (of London) ends each classical review with a "star rating."
FT London

I know that we are in an age of simplification, gentrification and stupefaction, but can live concerts really be reduced to a 1-5 rating system? The article in question is a review of last nights performance of Boris Godunov. Within the show you have the premise [i.e. the direction, the costumes and sets, as well as the editing, since this was a performance that tried to return to most of the original material, while still offering some of Mussorgsky's later edits (because of censor issues), without incorporating too much of the later revisions by Ravel] and execution (the vocalists, of which there were literally hundreds between the massive chorus and a large cast, the orchestra, the conductor, and the rendering of the sets and costumes). Can this 4.5 hour beast be summarized in a simple numerical valuation?

Instruments for Haiti

2010-09-20T10:54:00.003-04:00

Dear Reddit:

You have shown numerous times that you can rally together in the name of social justice. It is with this in mind that I write to you now.

In their youth, many people in this community
1. Took band
2. Played in a band
3. Were forced into suzuki at age 2
etc.

It was something we took for granted, and something many of us dropped when American Pie really sealed the already strong dork factor for marching bands.

With that said, you instruments can be put to good use. I traveled to Haiti in August to do reconstruction work and teaching. Yes, I know this is an "old" subject, because America is big on throwing money at a problem and then moving on, but as an article in this week's NYTimes points out, the situation is very dismal. My group worked at several orphanages, including one that ran a music school. As a musician, I spent the day teaching the students and faculty what little I could in the short while I was there. Still, before I left, I managed to collect a dozen instruments for these students.

You might say, "Why the hell do we need to focus on entertainment and leisure when the people of Haiti have more pressing concerns?"

Most of the orphanages in Port-au-Prince offer the students an hour or two of education, and they spend the rest of the day running around in fortified compounds. The unstructured time left them anxious, prone to violence and eager to... emulate gang culture. The side-cocked hand position was a favorite pose for photos.

While seemingly innocent, when these children age out of the orphanages as unskilled workers, they will look to what they know.

The orphanage that required every student to take music lessons was remarkable. The charges were curious, significantly more literate than their unmusical counterparts and excited to learn. All of the offices and practice rooms had been destroyed in the earthquake, so students practiced in the large community hall and on the outside perimeter of the building.
A violin crushed in the rubble of the building

Still, they rehearsed every day, to play for community events (weddings, funerals, holidays, etc.). They realize that they are a part of the Haitian culture which needs to be rebuilt. If the community dies, there is no drive to rebuild.

Even though many of the students in this orphanage don't go into music professionally, it still offers them the drive and determination that few others have. We ran into many former students - some in music, but most ran shops or were involved in a skilled labor - something relatively rare in the area.

With that said, I ask you to see if you (or anyone you know) has instruments that they could donate. The ones you used in school, your backup that you don't really use, anything. If you live in the New York Metropolitan Area, I can collect them. If you live anywhere else, let me know where you are and I will see if anyone who works with one of these organizations is nearby (you can always mail to a foundation, but the postage for instruments tends to outweigh the value). Either way, I can put you in touch with someone who can get these unused instruments into the hands of someone who will truly appreciate this gift.

I know this isn't the "Truthiness Rally," but it is a good cause nonetheless, and I hope you can help to make the lives of these children a little bit better.

Leave your contact info in the comments or email me at noahsweber@gmail.com for more information on how to donate.

Ironic?

2010-09-19T18:40:00.001-04:00

Ironic? A brilliant film though.

From a music school in Port-au-Prince, Haiti

2010-08-28T09:37:00.001-04:00

I wanted to thank everyone who donated instruments for my trip to Haiti. The school we went to is attached to an orphanage in Delmas. While most other orphanages provide only morning classes for their charges, these children receive musical studies in the afternoon. Compared to the other orphanages we visited, these students were immensely mature, hopeful and more willing to work to improve their situation than anyone else we saw. While most will not pursue a career in music, having this discipline in an otherwise chaotic setting (orphanages in Haiti tend to have 20-30 children per staff member) allowed the students to develop.

I opted not to take a "handing over" shot, and for that I beg your forgiveness. Biblically, the less you embarrass the recipient of charity, the more noble the deed. These students were playing on really abysmal instruments. Missing pads, corks... 6 month old reeds. Please know that your gifts were truly appreciated.

Danielle teaching a group of flutists how to make a more focused tone
The teachers of the school are learning theory
Suzuki is universal
Working on Vaughn Williams Folk Song Suite

Trying to get them to feel a "shanty" dance

A conducting class
Learning left and crescendi
The only part of the music school that remains is the main hall. All of the studios, practice rooms and offices were destroyed in the earthquake

Since there was only one room, while I led the wind ensemble, the group violin class took place outside (in 95 degrees weather)
2
A violin crushed in the rubble of the school

I am still hoping to collect more instruments and supplies (pads, cork grease, valve/slide lubricant, reeds are in very short supply). Please pass this on if you think there is anyone who might be able to contribute.

Thanks again,

Noah

Emails discussing non-profit in classical music

2010-08-24T12:27:00.002-04:00

A series of emails discussing non-profit in America and my conflicted emotions about applying for it.

G-

Something I have been pondering a bit lately - especially with the rise of alt-classical (and a blurring of genre lines more than ever before)... It sort of picks up where our last conversation (about music for profit) left off. I had been discussing this a bit with Ronni, in reference to an NPR Soundcheck Smackdown from a couple weeks ago (specifically federal funding for the arts), and then your penultimate post about the superiority of classical music brought the topic back...

What differentiates a small rock band in its fledgling years from a small classical music ensemble/concert series? I recently incorporated "Burning Bayreuth" and am working through the process for securing 501c3. Simultaneously, a classmate of mine has a small funk/rock group working towards "that big break." The groups will be working under similar premises; specifically - much work for little pay in the initial stages, recruitment of volunteers (roadies), creating a fan base, etc... What makes us entitled to the benefits of 501 while her group is not.

The discussion between Ronni and I had ended with parameters something like this: Make all artists in the initial stages of their careers eligible for the benefits of 501. Specifically access to grants, tax deductions for donors/sponsors, and tax deductions for any out of pocket expenses paid by the members themselves. They would have a time/capital cap on their eligibility. After x years or $xxx,xxx dollars income generated annually, they would no longer be eligible for fiscal protection. This would apply to all groups (MET, Philharmonic, etc), ultimately nurturing new talent (donations would be directed more towards smaller groups since the larger ones would not have the tax incentive) while forcing the establishment to really work towards creating financially viable programming.

Alt-classical really straddles the fence. A friend of mine runs the Fuse Ensemble in DC... she didn't think her group qualified for 501, but I recommended that she apply for fiscal sponsorship (through NYFA - now Artspire). It was an odd reckoning... she got the non-profit status fairly quickly, when she previously thought her music was too far from the classical norm to get the benefits of an organization "deemed beneficial to society." The current thought seems to be that only "classical" music is a social necessity. Haven't heard them since - but might be interesting to see if their sound has changed.

As long as we are writing grant applications justifying the social value of our art, we will inherently feel superior to other genres. The MET and similar institutions are as corpulent as America itself.

Well... Rant finished. I hope you are well.

Noah

N-

Excellent rant.

A similar question was asked me years ago, by a NY city agency. They were responsible for saying who qualified for housing – very nice lofts – which were zoned only for artists. Sting wanted one. Did he qualify? They were concerned that he was commercial. I said that if they would qualify a top Metropolitan Opera star for one of the lofts, they should qualify Sting, because the Met people made huge amounts of money.

A classical ensemble is in a better financial position, starting out, than a band. As you say, they can get non-profit status and raise money. The members of the ensemble can play freelance gigs, get paid teaching jobs, or teach privately. Composers in the ensemble can get grants and commissions. The band has no chance for any of this, except maybe the freelance gigs. And if they’re very young, and play alternative genres, they might not get those gigs. Club dates pay practically nothing, of course. And in some cases, the band might have to pay to play in clubs, by being forced to buy a certain number of tickets. If they resell them, they break even. Otherwise, they’re supporting the club.

In Britain, there’s an arts prize for bands, the Mercury Prize. I don’t know how they state who’s eligible, but the idea is that it’s for bands who aren’t likely to have vast commercial success. Which of course means hundreds of bands, playing interesting music.

The obstacle to your idea, of course, is the idea that pop is commercial. Which has two prongs. Prong one: the bands have a chance to make untold millions, so why fund them? They should be treated as entrepreneurs, investing their time and energy in a potentially lucrative future. (Actually, they’re investing their own money, too.)

Prong two: all pop music is inherently commercial, meaning that there’s nothing in it of value, since its only purpose is to make money. This is nonsense, of course, and it’s important to remember that people with huge careers (Dylan, Springsteen) may be functioning just as much as artists as any classical composer. Springsteen’s career is very instructive, since he’s made very noncommercial moves (releasing Nebraska, working for many expensive months in the studio on Born to Run, way past the point most record labels would have tolerated from most of their artists.)

We also shouldn’t forget how implicitly commercial classical music can be. Orchestra programming, carefully manicured to avoid offending the audience. Holiday concerts. Name me the rock band that spends all December playing Christmas music. Composers learning quickly what kind of music will help them get grants.

-G

G-

Isn't everything for profit? Josh Bell goes on stage for 30 minutes and gets paid $30k. Levine not only gets his ample sum from the Met but also the legal team to cope with his legal faux pas. The real issue is not the money made but the social necessity. I pulled the "Exempt Purposes" off of the IRS website:
The exempt purposes set forth in section 501(c)(3) are charitable, religious, educational, scientific, literary, testing for public safety, fostering national or international amateur sports competition, and preventing cruelty to children or animals.

Where does classical music fall? Educational? Looking at this list is actually a bit disconcerting, I would have assumed that artistic advancement might have been on there.

Meanwhile - the premise is that a non-profit should not be taxed in a normal capacity because it is a benefit to the society. How is another Tosca at the Met a benefit to society any more than anything anyone else is doing in another genre of art?

So to answer directly:
Re: Prong one - Musicians also have the chance to earn untold millions - their training from the age of 2 or 3 (at times) is a push by their parents desire to gain a better life for the whole family - how many immigrants and children from lower class homes grew up with this model. This is why there would also be an economic cap - if within the time period allotted for non-profit artistic development someone begins to earn enough to reasonably say they are financially self-sufficient, the tax exempt status would be removed.

Re: Prong two - classical music could afford to be more commercial. I attached one of the ads from my last show... some people found it great, and several professors found it offensive. While Babbitt has always complained about the title of the infamous piece... his article ostensibly stated that classical music as evolved beyond and art - It is a science which needs to be researched... If people happen to take pleasure from it, that is fine, but it should not be a concern for the composer. When Melissa Dunphy wrote to you about our show, several comments suggested that she had sold out and lost any artistic dignity because she considered the audience and their reactions while composing the piece.

One thing I have been pondering - while considering my imminent graduation and thus needing to either face the job market or a doctorate - is how many performers/composers get doctorates simply to avoid being exposed to the outside world. Composers get a masters, and know that they will not be able to support themselves on their work alone - so they enter a doctorate program. In many ways, they are never truly aware of "the audience." I have been working with Corel Dargel a bit, trying to put on a show next winter... As a composer who actually makes his living off of composing and performing, his perspective is entirely different. While discussing a program that would include two other composers, he was able to diagnose the issues in formatting, presentation and potential reception with such insight - I had spent a good deal of time trying to plan out the event - and his off the cuff analysis sold me on a completely different approach in very little time. He knows how to make a show - I don't know if I can extend that description to many people presenting concerts today.

All the best,

Noah

babbitt

Art for the Artist's sake

2010-08-02T11:12:00.000-04:00

So Melissa Dunphy recently posted the video below in response to a discussion I had with a friend, who for the moment shall be referred to as "G." The discussion in question can be found here, but the line she principally objects to is:

A composer writes for himself, not for the audience.

G's quote should be put in context, because I think it is important to discuss. One idea I had in creating Burning Bayreuth was the notion of creating feedback for composers. Magnus Lindberg can write another irrelevant piece for the Philharmonic, they can put forth a half-hearted job of rendering it, Lindberg gets paid and that is the end. There will be a tepid applause - or if it is a very "high brow" audience, a strong applause, but there is no actual evaluation of the piece.

In a way, I understand where G is coming from. When you have a piece of yours performed, how many people are able to actually understand what you are attempting to accomplish? Even going into late 19th century works... Let's take Bruckner for example. After learning one of his symphonies, I have a tremendous attachment to it, following the way he builds and expands structures and forms in monolithic blocks. Meanwhile, I personally consider listening to one of his symphonies that I haven't studied a harrowing experience in lethargy and boredom.

So I guess in agreeing with G, I have undermined his point... Which is odd. I have worked with G and performed his music before. In a strange way, I think that both Melissa and G search for the same aesthetic principles, and yearn for the same reactions to their music. So why are they philosophically disconnected?

This might go back to the notion of "serious music." From what I gather, Melissa is responding to the academic notion of Art as a masturbatory creation. When Greg Sandow responded to Melissa regarding our concert on his blog a few months ago, a flood of comments were posted, many criticizing Melissa for ostensibly being too pop (one commenter sniped, "If you want to have a huge audience, write songs for Madonna").

There seems to be a masochistic element to "serious composition." It is funded by the state (having non-profit status means it is at least $30% state funded before receiving a dime of public money), presumably because it is for the public good. Yet if the art is supposed to have a eleemosynary social function, why is it intended primarily for academics... or other artists? I would say with a fair degree of certainty that much of the contemporary music I am partial to would be of no interest to me without my musical training. Since presumably most audience members to not have multiple degrees in music, from my perspective alone, it would be unlikely that they would appreciate this music. Now, I will not state that I can represent the average musician, nor that assumptions as to my tastes if I weren't studied in music should represent the general public, but after many discussions with composers, performers, students and concert-goers, I would say that much of the music is written for other musicians.

What I enjoy about both Melissa and G's music is specifically their approachability on various levels. They are captivating upon first listen, and then (from an academic position) maintain interest when studied.

Well... now I have taken some time to ponder (significant break between previous statements and now). I was pondering something as my darling wife's job-funded health benefits kicked in yesterday: She is paid for her craft. She has a following of readers who enjoy her perspective and learn from her. The metaphors she conjures to capture a specific sound or emotion on stage are what she is paid for.

What are most composers paid for in this world?

Something I am wrestling with. Melissa is in a PHD program. G is currently applying for PHD and DMA programs, and I am in a very odd place somewhere between the DMA and PHD dilemma. Presumably the purpose of a doctorate is to teach - yet can anyone who makes their living as a teacher (as opposed to living off of their art) create with a connection to the public? Isn't it specifically this haven - the shelter of a regular paycheck that destroys the need to relate to the audience? Have not decided.

More to follow. Haiti preparations imminent at the moment.

Burning Bayreuth - Donate

2010-04-13T23:58:00.000-04:00

CLICK ON THE PICTURE OF SCHOENBERG TO DONATE

We hope you enjoyed the performance. The ultimate goal of Burning Bayreuth is to create a self-sufficient concert series. While most arts institutions survive on donations and grants, we hope to create a model by which we can exist entirely on ticket, merchandise and recording sales. It is said that the highest form of charity is teaching someone how to work for themselves. Giving a million dollars to the MET only makes them more dependent upon handouts. Giving to Burning Bayreuth will allow us to further develop this concept, allowing it to serve as an example for other musical ventures.

Below are some of our ideas for changing performance practice:
1. Connect the listener with the composer and the composer with the listener. Jeff Myers (Hunger Artist) said to me, “Audiences have no idea how composers make a living.” Currently, composers earn their living from university jobs and occasional grants, unless they happen to get national recognition, at which point they are offered commissions. In my project the audience will be asked to offer their gratitude and admiration for the works with donations made directly to the composers after each concert. With this we can begin to explore the possibility of composers earning their living from their compositional rights instead of their teaching jobs.
2. We will amplify the music to emulate the way music is listened to in the home (already done with several contemporary performance groups).
3. We will suggest that certain concert etiquettes be reconsidered or ignored. Especially with the use of amplification, the Wagnerian silence (something that was not always a part of the concert experience) may prove to be unnecessary. In an email discussing the project, Melissa Dunphy (Gonzales Cantata) wrote:
One of the best things about the Gonzales Cantata is that it plays to a modern audience in a way that makes them laugh, which I found to be an easy way to break down that “concert” atmosphere. The first time it was performed, in the context of a more serious recital at my college, the audience barely made a sound because the music students had all been coached in “correct” recital behavior. Terrible! I went as far as reproaching my composition professor for not laughing afterwards, and he replied that he was afraid to mess up the recording.
4. We will present a shorter program. The concert will not be more than 80 minutes, with the possibility of two performances in a day. This presentation is more in tune with the decreasing attention span of the modern audience, while simultaneously maximizing the theoretical “profit” for the ensemble.
5. The sets will be made primarily of video displays, designed by visual artists and using historical images to create a changing, dynamic environment that can be easily reproduced for future concerts, or easily altered for modifications or reinterpretations of the music.
6. "Second Performances" are crucial to the creative process. Both of these works received premieres, but only through repeat performances can these composers have the ability to refine and perfect their works. This concert is designed to help set a new standard for the presentation of classical performance, to showcase emerging artists, and to help pave the way for sustainable careers in music.
7. Sell scores. If part of the process of engaging audiences is exposing them to the music, why not sell scores. Not the $300 Universal Editions... In the case of the premiere concert, we are selling piano vocal scores, so amateurs and professionals alike can get to know the pieces more closely, ultimately creating a closer composer-audience relationship.

Any and all donations are accepted.
CLICK ON THE PICTURE OF SCHOENBERG TO DONATE

Brevity - Good to be concise

2010-03-06T19:25:00.000-05:00

My final response to Greg. It gets at the nut of the issue with contemporary performance practice.

Baumol's Effect only applies if you think like an orchestra administrator. I read the post you had from last year about Flanagan's study. It is actually kind of humorous, in the sense that administrators have become so accustomed to running a deficit that they see nothing wrong with it.

There is no question that an economist would be appalled by the current management of artistic institutions, as the fundamental structure (from the 1950s and later augmented in the 60s) is an inherently failing model. Yet what does Baumol's theory hinge upon? The notion that expenses rise as technology streamlines various professions, forcing professions without an increased productivity to increase spending until they are bankrupt. If one thinks like an economist instead of a Carnegie lackey, one might get somewhere.

So - how to make for profit music? I must begin with its fault - healthcare. Business based health insurance is the death of creativity. I know that is a strong statement, but it puts anyone who does not work for a large organization at an inherent disadvantage. Our present model allows the company to own the individual. As far as music is involved, smaller is better. The larger the inherent organization is, the less efficient it is, specifically because it hires people to service the organization when it is operating at capacity (such as a Mahler concert with choir, childrens choir and 100 instrumentalists). This makes the organization most profitable from the human resources perspective when putting on giant concerts. Unfortunately, putting on Brucker festivals every year is not a way to attract audiences - thus large organizations are not working to their capacity most of the time. Meanwhile, a chamber group that is just starting out can't really afford the massive payments, since they are practically paying an individual's rate. Having universal healthcare would allow musicians to take the jobs they want to take, instead of the most secure ones. Ultimately, it leads to less burn out and the people in a performance are more likely to be there because they want to play instead of needing to keep the job (this relates back to a discussion on your blog about the presentation of orchestral musicians - how many people in the back of the fiddle sections look like they would rather be at the dentist?).

So now to things that don't require an act of congress. Get rid of unions. Unions are unmusical and wasteful. The story about the maintenance people at carnegie making $400k+ a year is the perfect example. Musicians work odd hours. Sometimes they need to work longer. While I don't advocate 8 hour rehearsals, cutting off the musical discourse of a rehearsal because of an arbitrary time limit destroys the creative process. Furthermore, they discourage incentives. Look at "The Equity Project" - a charter school in the city. They pay their teachers $125k plus a potential for another $25k for stellar work. Notice this in their mission statement:

TEP does NOT fundraise to support its investment in teacher compensation. This is because a central feature of TEP’s mission is to demonstrate that schools can make a radical investment in teacher equity by reallocating existing public funding.

They get rid of the majority of their non-teaching staff - and through a collective effort they run the it more efficiently than any other school in the city. So, by that logic - scrap musical administrators and have the musicians work on programming, pr, etc. with incentives for well received/sold concerts. The musicians are the only ones who can really determine the fine line between selling out and good business practice - because it is the orchestra's integrity being sold. Of course this couldn't be done with unions.

Related to this, I want to go back to something I said in my first or second email... specifically about breaking up the orchestra. Make it a collective group - they arrange to have various concerts in all sorts of smaller venues that explore different types of music. Conservatory often cleanse musicians of their previous tastes... their cultural connections, their adolescent fancies, etc. Let people get back to making some of the music that is "not fit" for orchestral musicians. By presenting various genres of music, it breaks up the tedium that many players experience, and could offer longer musical longevity. In addition, this would help break the stigma of classical music as stuffy. If the NY Phil Brass have such good chops, throw them in a cuban group. Have a woodwind quintet play the françoix quintet at a french club - putting paris in the mind's eye. Also, it would allow composers to have access to world class musicians without writing for orchestras (at a Pew Foundation lecture I went to a few months back, it was said that the only way to get any attention as a composer is to write for full orchestra). The money would all funnel back through the parent organization, but there would be strong financial incentives for the "high performance" groups. Still, it wouldn't leave people who happen to have a bad stretch out in the dust. This would also allow the musicians to try making their own groups. If they do happen to form a smaller ensemble that has a strong dynamic and thinks it could exist on its own, they give the proper notice (probably a year - since several new spots would need to be auditioned), and then they break from the company. This would also rotate people out more frequently than death or disease, offering more numerous opportunities for younger musicians.

I realize this model complicates things in new york a bit - specifically because of the ridiculous number of musicians in this relatively small patch of earth - but it would allow musicians more musicians to be able to earn a living outside of major cities (and again, new york has too many musicians for a metropolis, I would guess the highest per capita in the world).

It would be a rough transition - but thinking that it is too difficult advocating "too big to fail." Too big to fail means you keep putting money in until it proves to be so unprofitable that you let it fail (or you extort the government by buying congress). Ultimately, orchestras need to remind people why live music exists. Every major work in the repertoire has been recorded 1000+ times... I could get 5-10 different interpretations of a piece for the price of a concert ticket. Make the full orchestra special. Do it infrequently enough that every seat in the house is sold.

In any case, I think I have rambled enough here. I go through bouts of excitement juxtaposed by deep depression about all of this. Who knows where we are headed.

Greg Plugs our Show

2010-02-26T14:15:00.001-05:00

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