Two things for Thursday. The first is that I am almost through Alex Ross' "The Rest is Noise". I will give a full report when finished, but for now I will share that I think it is a breathtaking accomplishment, incredibly well researched and written. The second is an article forwarded to me by a wonder music lover in Baltimore. It comes from the Urbanite magazine and speaks to the situation in American orchestras, particularly large-sized orchestras in mid-sized cities. Here the writer uses the Baltimore Symphony as the example, but as much could be said for Cleveland, San Francisco, and any number of American cities. What makes Baltimore unique, and perhaps the perfect example to use, is the appointment of Marin Alsop and its consequences, in a number of both good, bad, and unknown ways. That said, I post it here because I find it a powerful message for the state of arts in general in the United States, and most particularly opera (ie. putting an opera on a movie screen doesn't make it sustainably interesting if the opera on the movie screen is the same old retrospective production or a new production that only succeeds at cheapening the work). I reprint the whole thing here because I think it is very worth reading:
Can the BSO sell classical music without selling it short?
A little after 8 p.m. one night last November in Meyerhoff Hall, just when a conductor usually gives the downbeat that tells an orchestra to begin, Baltimore Symphony Orchestra music director Marin Alsop signaled instead for composer Aaron Jay Kernis to walk out on stage. Two Kernis pieces, “Lament and Prayer” and “Newly Drawn Sky,” filled the first half of a program that concluded with Beethoven’s “Pastoral” Symphony, and Alsop, now in the first season of her BSO tenure, engaged Kernis in a chat before the performance. The nostalgic rapture of “Newly Drawn Sky,” the audience learned, was inspired by memories of the changing colors at dusk on a summer day Kernis and his wife spent at the beach with their newly born twins.
When the orchestra finished, Kernis was summoned to the stage by the kind of standing ovation that Beethoven might have received after a performance of the “Pastoral.” But Kernis’ reception was also a tribute to Alsop—and for more than her passionate and exciting take on the two pieces. Her conversation with Kernis had made it possible for 21st century listeners to respond enthusiastically to demanding and unfamiliar contemporary works—the sort of music today’s audiences are not supposed to like. And she had enabled a living composer to achieve what Beethoven himself, in his inscription to his Missa Solemnis, called the primary purpose of music: “To speak from the heart to the heart.”
If the concert was a powerful demonstration of how conductor and orchestra can create a shared experience, it also raised questions and caveats about Alsop and the BSO’s future together. Was the ovation a response to Kernis’ music, or to Alsop’s deft salesmanship? After all, when Beethoven wrote his words about the power of music to communicate from the heart to the heart, he was not thinking about the power of a charismatic intermediary to insert herself between the composer and his listener.
Then there was Alsop’s performance of the Beethoven, which suffered from a rigidity of rhythm. Alsop often seems uncomfortable about employing rubato—the elasticity and flexibility of tempo that come from slight speeding-ups and slowing-downs, which can add interest and tension to a melodic line without distorting it. It’s often what we’re hearing when we describe a performance as “flowing,” and it’s essential to performing music from the 18th to the early 20th century. It’s also something that Alsop—not only in Beethoven’s “Pastoral,” but also in her performances of Brahms, Tchaikovsky, Mahler, and Strauss—does not seem to understand.
What worried me more than the performance was that nearly all of the two thousand people in the audience didn’t seem to hear any such deficiencies in the “Pastoral” and responded with yet another ovation.
The ability of an audience to detect the difference between an inspired performance and one that is merely professional often depends upon having sufficiently savvy listeners. Those, however, are not the listeners about whom the BSO seems concerned; its current initiatives appear to be motivated by the belief that there simply aren’t enough of them to matter.
The BSO appointed Alsop to succeed Yuri Temirkanov as music director in 2005. She’s the first woman ever to occupy so prestigious a position at an American orchestra, a milestone that has seemed to generate more publicity for the BSO in the last few months than in all of its previous ninety-one years. But the attention isn’t all because of her: There’s enormous curiosity about the BSO’s effort to reinvent the American orchestra, an institution that has suffered from budget and leadership issues in many cities across the country. Only a handful of orchestras are rich enough to fend off the increasing deficits and apparently decreasing audiences that have threatened the BSO.
When the first American orchestras were founded in the 19th century, audiences were by no means comprised chiefly of a wealthy social elite. The New York Philharmonic’s first concert, on December 7, 1842, was before a crowd of recent German immigrants (more than 40 percent of the players were German). It was an elite audience only in the sense that they took music seriously: They knew it and appreciated it.
That model was dealt several successive blows throughout the 20th century—by recorded music, by radio, by movies, by television. At about the time the Vietnam War came to an end, precipitous declines in public school arts education helped reduce symphonic music (as well as many other live performing arts) to something like irrelevance.
This led, eventually, to a huge excess capacity in classical music- making. The thinking at the cultural front of the Cold War in the 1950s and ’60s was that American orchestras weren’t musically or institutionally stable enough to compete with the Soviet Union’s state-funded arts institutions. The result was a drive to build year-round, high-level professional orchestras. In 1966, for example, the Ford Foundation gave almost $81 million in grants—with the condition that orchestras, in turn, had to raise twice that amount in matching funds.
This flood of money dramatically increased the number of concerts. Throughout the 1950s, the standard concert season was thirty weeks. In 1964, the New York Philharmonic signed a fifty-two-week contract and other orchestras followed suit: In 1970, there were six with fifty-two-week seasons; currently, there are eighteen—the BSO among them. But by the 1980s, orchestra expenses began to outstrip revenues. The number of concerts grew not to meet audience demand but to accommodate the financial needs of the players, now almost entirely dependent on their orchestras for income.
Meanwhile, audiences aged, tickets prices escalated, and the time-bomb of reduced arts education finally exploded. There is now too much classical-music “product” for the market to consume. The BSO, for example, gives three to four performances of a program per week (except in the summer months). The greatest orchestras in Europe—in much larger cities like Vienna, Berlin, Amsterdam, and London—rarely give more than two.
Beethoven’s hope to address his audience “from the heart to the heart” came from his belief in symphonic music as a force that could reconcile us to each other and to the world in which we live. By the end of the 20th century, the remorseless onslaught of popular culture had made the possibility of such a vision seem impossibly remote. It is thus not only understandable but also commendable that orchestras are trying to reach out to a generation of Americans who know little or nothing about classical music—and that Alsop and her staff are arguing for a different definition of the American orchestra than the one created in the middle of the 19th century. It’s a definition with a more populist, perhaps less elitist, bias.
In such a cultural climate, the ability to make music may not be the most important attribute of a music director. As New York Times music critic Bernard Holland wrote more than a dozen years ago, “American music directors are administrators, hirers, firers, planners, glad- handers, money-raisers, politicians and donor-strokers … [it’s] the conductor as C.E.O., professor, psychiatrist, public relations officer and [on the podium] a ballet dancer.”
Alsop moves more like a boxer than a ballerina, but that’s otherwise an accurate accounting of her bona fides. She’s a skillful media player and is good at attending to the details of artistic administration. The dissension among BSO players created when Alsop was appointed seems to have dissipated, and the praise she has received for promoting the music of Kernis and of several other important American composers is richly deserved. And, like Leonard Bernstein, the former music director of the New York Philharmonic whom she describes as a mentor, she has an uncanny ability to package her ideas intriguingly. For example, her invitation to several composers—America’s John Adams, Scotland’s James MacMillan, England’s Thomas Adès, and Austria’s H.K. Gruber, all of whom she calls “modern Beethovens"—to participate as conductors in the BSO’s first Beethoven symphony cycle since the early years of David Zinman’s music directorship has caused a buzz on both sides of the Atlantic.
The approach seems to be paying off at the gate: In contrast with Temirkanov’s last few seasons, most of Alsop’s concerts have been well-attended—frequently filling most of 2,443-seat Meyerhoff Hall and nearly all of the orchestra’s second home in Bethesda, the 1,976-seat Music Center at Strathmore. Some of that could be attributed to the BSO’s decision to lower ticket prices. Subscription packages this season make every seat available for $25—thanks to a $1 million grant from PNC Bank. The orchestra reports a 14 percent increase in the number of subscriptions purchased compared to last season, with three times the number of first-time subscribers.
But how good is the product that is being heard in those $25 seats compared to that heard in the recent past?
Comparison of the current season’s roster of guest soloists and conductors to that of any in the tenure of Zinman or Temirkanov provides a depressing answer. If engaging guest artists can be compared to shopping, in past years the orchestra’s guest roster looked as if it had been purchased in Bergdorf’s and Saks, while this season’s roster looks like it comes from Wal-Mart—proof that you often get what you pay for. A few of the soloists, while well-known, no longer play as well they did when they became celebrated; the names of some of the others are unfamiliar even to aficionados. And what will happen next season when, without underwriting for $25 seats, ticket prices return to their accustomed level?
And while many BSO innovations sound intriguing, some have proved tedious (or worse) in practice. The notion of Beethoven symphonies conducted by “modern Beethovens” is great in theory, but having to sit through a Beethoven Fourth or Seventh led with marginal competence by someone who, while perhaps a good composer, is a poor conductor is quite another thing. And letting audiences believe that such a performance can be called “a modernist perspective” on Beethoven is nothing less than a classical-music con: It’s taking advantage of people’s ignorance.
Of course, superb soloists and conductors do not guarantee filled houses—something the last years of both Zinman and Temirkanov demonstrated. It can be argued that Baltimore does not need, does not want, and cannot afford an elite orchestra with international standing like the one created in the last twenty years. And perhaps there’s no way that such an institution could survive in the present climate without cutting corners and creating strategies to broaden its appeal.
The era is long past when music directors like Chicago’s Fritz Reiner or Cleveland’s George Szell could create orchestras so good that attending their concerts became a matter of civic pride. Someone like Temirkanov—a great conductor who does not ingratiate himself with the audience or cozy up to a city’s corporate boards and richest citizens—is not likely to come our way again soon. But conductors with both enormous musical talent and popular charisma have been appealing to the public for more than a century. (Bernstein had both—and so did Zinman.) It’s possible that Alsop will grow into a better conductor and that her proselytizing efforts will result in both a broader and a more discerning audience. It’s also possible that a concept of public education that includes the arts—an idea that prevailed in this country until the 1960s—will return.
A new vision of the civic orchestra could be created. Orchestras may need more flexible goals—reducing the number of symphonic concerts, for example, and using the musicians to give more and smaller outreach concerts. Maybe Alsop will mature enough to help accomplish this transformation; maybe the task will fall to her successor.
That’s what one hopes for in the long term. In the short term, the BSO needs to engage better (if not necessarily more expensive) soloists. And it may need to extend the engagement of such great conductors as Günther Herbig, Libor Pešek, and Yan Pascal Tortelier, who can lead the orchestra in the core repertory with experience, skill, and insight that Alsop does not yet possess. Should the BSO receive another $1 million grant, it would be wise to spend it for such purposes.
One thing seems certain: However successfully the BSO packages its product this season and in seasons to come, unless that package also contains some great musical performances, the orchestra as an institution may be neither worth reinventing, nor worth listening to.
—Steve Wigler spent twenty years as the music critic of several newspapers, including the Baltimore Sun. He now writes about music from his home in Baltimore.
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Always on a Sunday
Finally getting a bit of time to committ to Alex Ross' "The Rest is Noise" has brought back to my mind a number of scores that I haven't listened to in years. Being so focused in early music is easy because there is SO much of it that has been little explored (and it is so great). That said, there is wealth of other rep that I love, but haven't thought about for quite some time. So imagine this...right now I am listening to "Elektra" with scores and recordings of "Saint Francois d'Assise", "Tannhauser", "Salome", "Ariadne", "Threepenny Opera", and "The Rakes Progress" in front of me. Perhaps this is appropriate listening for a day that is dedicated to tax season.
Teatro Romea is presenting Tony Kushner's "Homebody/Kabul" here, and today is the last chance to see it. This is a tremendously important play by the author of "Angels in America". His writing is poetic, biting, and builds great structures of metaphors and critical thought all at once. It is unclear whether the production will be in English or Catalan and that will certainly effect my decision to go or not. I really have a strong dislike, or lack of appreciation for, things in translation. I rarely read books or poetry in anything except the original language (unless it is a language I'm likely to never learn). I hate over-dubbed movies. And opera in translation I am extremely disapproving of...I don't think it helps make the work accessible and it denies the inherent connection between a composer and the words he sets. Of course in different periods text has been less intricately connected to the music, but by and large I don't think it serves any purpose except to weaken the work.
The score for "David et Jonathas" is finally completely marked and I can start marking the parts to send to our concertmistress, the renowned Dana Maiben, to bow. This will be a big job as well. And somewhere in there I will start practicing the score and recreate my staging. This is an exciting prospect because it is a chance to see how my understanding of this great work is changed by the experience and personal growth of the last several years.
That will be Sunday in Barcelona I suppose. I wish I had more to write about, but there isn't much fodder out there just now. It is an off week at Liceu until "Elektra" next week, the Times has been particularly weak on stories lately, the work of the company is in the not-quite-so-interesting phase (though we did get two new board members), and my own computer has died temporarily so I don't have access to DVD's or extended use of the internet.
I will say this, Clayton Koonce has posted a "Fantasy Opera Season" which I think is a great idea and something I am going to have to work on. It will take a lot to widdle it down, but my first thoughts are "Platee", "Tristan", "Pellias", "Capriccio", and then it becomes less clear.
Teatro Romea is presenting Tony Kushner's "Homebody/Kabul" here, and today is the last chance to see it. This is a tremendously important play by the author of "Angels in America". His writing is poetic, biting, and builds great structures of metaphors and critical thought all at once. It is unclear whether the production will be in English or Catalan and that will certainly effect my decision to go or not. I really have a strong dislike, or lack of appreciation for, things in translation. I rarely read books or poetry in anything except the original language (unless it is a language I'm likely to never learn). I hate over-dubbed movies. And opera in translation I am extremely disapproving of...I don't think it helps make the work accessible and it denies the inherent connection between a composer and the words he sets. Of course in different periods text has been less intricately connected to the music, but by and large I don't think it serves any purpose except to weaken the work.
The score for "David et Jonathas" is finally completely marked and I can start marking the parts to send to our concertmistress, the renowned Dana Maiben, to bow. This will be a big job as well. And somewhere in there I will start practicing the score and recreate my staging. This is an exciting prospect because it is a chance to see how my understanding of this great work is changed by the experience and personal growth of the last several years.
That will be Sunday in Barcelona I suppose. I wish I had more to write about, but there isn't much fodder out there just now. It is an off week at Liceu until "Elektra" next week, the Times has been particularly weak on stories lately, the work of the company is in the not-quite-so-interesting phase (though we did get two new board members), and my own computer has died temporarily so I don't have access to DVD's or extended use of the internet.
I will say this, Clayton Koonce has posted a "Fantasy Opera Season" which I think is a great idea and something I am going to have to work on. It will take a lot to widdle it down, but my first thoughts are "Platee", "Tristan", "Pellias", "Capriccio", and then it becomes less clear.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Tis the season...
Was I really about to make it through the month of January with only one post? As always I have excuses and as always excuses are never good enough. That said, a large portion of the early month was busy with getting myself, my partner, and my cat back to Spain which included losing my passport, geting new visas, getting vet documents for the cat, taking two seperate flights not knowing if the other one was going to get in or not, and trying to resume life here. And it is that season again...grants! Not fun, and so far I have prepared about seven of them and several more on my list to do. This is never enjoyable and always like pulling teeth to get all the pieces together and formatted to the right specifications. But...it is a necessary evil that will hopefully keep next season intact (any big fans of Calisto out there should send in their donations soon!). And I have had the pleasure to play the last couple days in masterclasses with famed baroque violin teacher Chiara Bianchini who is really wonderful and spot-on musically (spot-on seems to be the phrase of late doesn't it...I think it is something Brian Dickie of COT is secretly spreading). I also had the opportunity to finally see Jordi Savall live with Concerts des Nations. They were very good in a program of French orchestral music - though I was surprised by the use of violins on the haute-contre line (more about that in another post) and no winds. Soon I will have the opportunity to meet Calixto Bieito who is the controverisal Catalan director that started all the neo-con hubub last year. He did a very controversial staging of "Abduction". Anyway, I admire him and look forward to meeting him.
Of course all this work on grants to pay for next season has meant thinking a lot about next season. Gosh it is going to be a great one! For those of you that missed "La Calisto" in 2004, this is a brilliant comic opera as tuneful and funny as "Barbiere" or "Falstaff" any day (that Sun called is "Rollicking Fun!". This production will feature many of the same cast but completely new sets etc. to fit our new home. Something I have been concentrating heavily on is our "Le Cabaret de Carmen" which will be our most adventurous piece next season, and as such will be performed in the Baltimore Theatre Project, our home away from home. I have finished writing an extremely dark and funny script. Script, you say? Thats right, this production will be based on Peter Brook's "Le Tragedie de Carmen" which raised eyebrows in the 80s. Our productions uses the score of Brooks (with no chorus and with events reordered to match the original Merimée novela), but goes much further dramatically. Our Carmen is taken out of Seville and into a 1930s Parisan cabaret. The Theatre Project will be turned into a dark and mysterious nightclub, complete with waiters, and MC, and food and drink. The added dialogue for the Madam and the MC puts the dark tale of seductions and self-destruction into poignant relief. It will be an unsettling and strangely unforgettable evening (and I should mention an incredible cast that features Baltimore favorite Ryan de Ryke as our suave cabaret singer Escamillo, Candian mezzo-soprano Sophie Roland as Carmen, she is also in "La Calisto" as Diana, and Bonnie McNaughton as Michäela, I should also mention Baltimore's own JoAnn Kulesza will be our music director). Then Phillips Glass' "Hydrogen Jukebox", which is a charting out of the rise and fall of the American dream to the poetry of Allen Ginsberg. This is AOT's first step into 20th contemporary opera (I long ambition of mine) and this is a great piece. It is powerful and breathtakingly beautiful. I will have much more to say about it as it approaches. And finally, a revival of our acclaimed "Acis + Galatea". We did not perform it in Washington, DC last time and we have had many requests to bring it back already. It is a terrific show and I am happy to oblige.
And with all that said...we still have one major hurdle to get over before next season, and that is a little thing called "David et Jonathas". Quickly approaching, this piece will serve as our New York premier with our largest orchestra forces yet. Many of you may have missed our workshop of the piece in 2005, but it is a transformative piece - painfully beautiful and with some of the of most glorious mosic of the entire baroque. Through a genorous grant we are able to bring in America's top players to join our company of singers in this powerful opera. I am now in the midst of marking parts to get them out for bowings. This is an important and painstaking process, but worth-it when I step in front of the orchestra and they already know the jist of what I want.
Please forgive any typos...there is a festival of Mallorcan music and dance tonight and I am anxious to get out the door!
Of course all this work on grants to pay for next season has meant thinking a lot about next season. Gosh it is going to be a great one! For those of you that missed "La Calisto" in 2004, this is a brilliant comic opera as tuneful and funny as "Barbiere" or "Falstaff" any day (that Sun called is "Rollicking Fun!". This production will feature many of the same cast but completely new sets etc. to fit our new home. Something I have been concentrating heavily on is our "Le Cabaret de Carmen" which will be our most adventurous piece next season, and as such will be performed in the Baltimore Theatre Project, our home away from home. I have finished writing an extremely dark and funny script. Script, you say? Thats right, this production will be based on Peter Brook's "Le Tragedie de Carmen" which raised eyebrows in the 80s. Our productions uses the score of Brooks (with no chorus and with events reordered to match the original Merimée novela), but goes much further dramatically. Our Carmen is taken out of Seville and into a 1930s Parisan cabaret. The Theatre Project will be turned into a dark and mysterious nightclub, complete with waiters, and MC, and food and drink. The added dialogue for the Madam and the MC puts the dark tale of seductions and self-destruction into poignant relief. It will be an unsettling and strangely unforgettable evening (and I should mention an incredible cast that features Baltimore favorite Ryan de Ryke as our suave cabaret singer Escamillo, Candian mezzo-soprano Sophie Roland as Carmen, she is also in "La Calisto" as Diana, and Bonnie McNaughton as Michäela, I should also mention Baltimore's own JoAnn Kulesza will be our music director). Then Phillips Glass' "Hydrogen Jukebox", which is a charting out of the rise and fall of the American dream to the poetry of Allen Ginsberg. This is AOT's first step into 20th contemporary opera (I long ambition of mine) and this is a great piece. It is powerful and breathtakingly beautiful. I will have much more to say about it as it approaches. And finally, a revival of our acclaimed "Acis + Galatea". We did not perform it in Washington, DC last time and we have had many requests to bring it back already. It is a terrific show and I am happy to oblige.
And with all that said...we still have one major hurdle to get over before next season, and that is a little thing called "David et Jonathas". Quickly approaching, this piece will serve as our New York premier with our largest orchestra forces yet. Many of you may have missed our workshop of the piece in 2005, but it is a transformative piece - painfully beautiful and with some of the of most glorious mosic of the entire baroque. Through a genorous grant we are able to bring in America's top players to join our company of singers in this powerful opera. I am now in the midst of marking parts to get them out for bowings. This is an important and painstaking process, but worth-it when I step in front of the orchestra and they already know the jist of what I want.
Please forgive any typos...there is a festival of Mallorcan music and dance tonight and I am anxious to get out the door!
Monday, January 14, 2008
Back to Spain and Back to Blogging
Well, this time tomorrow I will be on a plane with my little cat Romeo...hopefully that is (visa, visa, and more visa issues...maybe I'll end up back here!). At the same time I have had my head dug down into a pile of grant appliations, copying parts, making out contracts, designing sets, and most importantly getting the word out about "David et Jonathas". Our publicist Laura Grant is doing great work on that end and the time has come to get moving on M. Charpentier's masterpiece (or Charpent Ier as a conductor friend and I decided would be a great drag name tonight). It will be a busy Spring outside of that though. There will be an Ignoti Dei concert in DC and two in Italy, plus some other concerts. And...finally...blogging back on a regular basis!
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
A Christmas Day Wrap-Up
Here is a little post on Christmas Day to talk about the "Messiah" experience, which is now finally finished (that’s seven performances over the course of three weeks). I had hoped to be able to blog throughout the entire process, but that did not become a reality as the show came to fruition. In all honesty I feel as if I have been running on not much more than adrenaline for the past two weeks.
Ultimately I think it would be fair to declare the piece a success. Baltimore audiences were big and enthusiastic (this happening at the last minute after weeks of depressingly low sales). The final show was just the perfect way to go out on - a full house that stood and applauded enthusiastically and with longevity. The orchestra played their best (ever) this past weekend and the soloists were dynamite.
It has been interesting coming through this "Messiah" after the "Acis" experience. I think the two works are similar in their ingenuity and artistic excellence. "Acis" was very different in that its intended effect was clear. The audience knew how they were to react and they were encouraged to respond as such. "Messiah" is a challenging piece. It is unexpected, unfamiliar. It jars people’s expectations of a piece they know so well. I don't think it leads the viewer to a specific and intended place. That is the result of art which wants the audience to bring their own historic consciousness to the performance - to respond to images with subjective meaning as opposed to dishing out objective meaning to them on a plate. There is no ultimate communal arrival point, and that makes for a final product where the audience is left to think for themselves. I have to admit that it isn't as satisfying for the performers, but I think it makes the work more important. It definitely differentiates AOT from other more traditional companies.
Being both conductor and director is an unusual, though not unprecedented, experience. Conducting on stage leads to the even more difficult situation of not being able to see the work in real time. From the video clips I have seen and from the photos, I think this turned out exactly as intended. I am immensely proud of the piece and the company for putting it up (and for the level of artistry). As one Baltimore musicologist said to us this weekend, it is a tremendously courageous piece. It pushes dramatic boundaries, defies the "law" which has fallen away in many arts, but somehow remains in opera, saying things must make sense (refer to the Post review which says "the work doesn't always make cogent sense", high praise indeed as far as I'm concerned), and challenges the tyranny of narrative.
I am now in rural Virginia and enjoying time with family before returning to Spain. I hope I'm not speaking too soon, but it looks like with this, the most expensive AOT production yet, we might have actually turned a profit. Now that is what I call a Christmas present.
Ultimately I think it would be fair to declare the piece a success. Baltimore audiences were big and enthusiastic (this happening at the last minute after weeks of depressingly low sales). The final show was just the perfect way to go out on - a full house that stood and applauded enthusiastically and with longevity. The orchestra played their best (ever) this past weekend and the soloists were dynamite.
It has been interesting coming through this "Messiah" after the "Acis" experience. I think the two works are similar in their ingenuity and artistic excellence. "Acis" was very different in that its intended effect was clear. The audience knew how they were to react and they were encouraged to respond as such. "Messiah" is a challenging piece. It is unexpected, unfamiliar. It jars people’s expectations of a piece they know so well. I don't think it leads the viewer to a specific and intended place. That is the result of art which wants the audience to bring their own historic consciousness to the performance - to respond to images with subjective meaning as opposed to dishing out objective meaning to them on a plate. There is no ultimate communal arrival point, and that makes for a final product where the audience is left to think for themselves. I have to admit that it isn't as satisfying for the performers, but I think it makes the work more important. It definitely differentiates AOT from other more traditional companies.
Being both conductor and director is an unusual, though not unprecedented, experience. Conducting on stage leads to the even more difficult situation of not being able to see the work in real time. From the video clips I have seen and from the photos, I think this turned out exactly as intended. I am immensely proud of the piece and the company for putting it up (and for the level of artistry). As one Baltimore musicologist said to us this weekend, it is a tremendously courageous piece. It pushes dramatic boundaries, defies the "law" which has fallen away in many arts, but somehow remains in opera, saying things must make sense (refer to the Post review which says "the work doesn't always make cogent sense", high praise indeed as far as I'm concerned), and challenges the tyranny of narrative.
I am now in rural Virginia and enjoying time with family before returning to Spain. I hope I'm not speaking too soon, but it looks like with this, the most expensive AOT production yet, we might have actually turned a profit. Now that is what I call a Christmas present.
Monday, December 17, 2007
A response (albeit brief) to the now famous Ionarts Review
It seems that too often lately these blogs are prefaced by saying that they will be short. This one I'm afraid is no exception. I am running out the door for a day of advertising, lunches, and rehearsals. We also have our donor holiday party on Thursday and I am trying to find where I have mislaid my piano skills. All that said, I did want to write a bit of a response to the Ionarts review of "Messiah" and the controversy that arose since.
I know, I know....never reply to a review. This should be no exception, but self control has never been my forte:
First the title "The M-word...S & M". This is fun for some I suppose. Would that it were an accurate representation of the show it would warrant praise for its wit, even if the rest of the article provided a rounded and representative overview of the show...but alas no. This reviewer, as do many of the other contributors to the debate, makes AOT's "Messiah" sound like an "s & m sex fest". The review even says that the angel (I'm trying not to be a spoiler, really) is “ravaged” and that she wears a “skin-tight” outfit. All of this, I must be frank, is blatantly untrue. I don't want to say that the reviewer lied, but... More disturbing is that the review fails to mention the rest of the show (which does beg the question as to whether the reviewer stayed through the entire piece). The violence in this piece is indicated by the text. It is a necessary part of the story and, with that in mind, it is in fact quite a small part of the whole picture. This violence is the pathway to redemption and this reviewer in his overview (for it was much more overview than review) he stops short, giving the reader the impression that violence is the overriding aesthetic of the piece.
I read Ionarts daily. I think it serves admirably a great mission in the DC area. I must gush and say that I love this blog. I also believe that reviewers can write what they please. And, I encourage the audience to take from each performance whatever they will. That said, the reviewer has a responsibility to his readers to present a fair picture of what they will experience upon attending the show or concert being reviewed. Though I definitely question this reviewers abilities in judging the voice (based on this and other reviews), that is subjective opinion and I can only grumble that Ionarts certainly has reviewers with better ears. This production, to any observer, contained violence (sexual or not) in an isolated way where indicated by the text. It was tempered by a clear larger message (to which the entire third part was dedicated). Journalistic integrity should have compelled this reviewer to understand the power of his media and to present a comprehensive, even if critical, review.
As to the sexual side of things...I do encourage the audience to take whatever they will from these performances. It was, however, completely clear that no sexual inuendo was intended by the staging. I think that because our victim is a woman, in certain minds that violence automatically takes on a sexual color. It would be disingenuous of me to encourage free interpretation and then to be upset that some audience members interpreted a sexual overtone. My only complaint is that this review made it sound that the sexuality was overt. He intentionally exaggerated what was at most a scene open to multiple interpretations, and made it sound as if the sexual violence was clear and unavoidable. His use of "ravaged" has a very precise meaning and was obviously not what happened on the stage. This scene might have elicited sexual thoughts for some people. I insist that this has more to do with what is going on in the audience's heads than what is going on on the stage. I also think that this is absolutely fine. It is perfectly understandable why violence against women could be read as sexual. It often is, and the media that surrounds us often depicts it as such. Making that connection does not say anything unhealthy or unnatural. Still, since the staging in this production clearly did not imply sexual violence, and since the angel in our production is "broken with a rod of iron" and not "ravaged" in any way, I feel this reviewer perverted the truth to come up with a cute title and self-aggrandizing article.
Be critical, that is your job. But don't be so at the cost of presenting a true reflection of what you saw. That is also your job. Simply having a musical background is not sufficient to be a critic. Criticism is an art and a skill. Only the most innately talented individuals should practice it without some study of journalism, writing, or at the very least journalistic ethics. It does a disservice to the entire profession, and is no doubt part of why arts criticism is languishing in the United States. It is most important to recognize that what one writes in the public forum has real consequences, and that is why the reviewer has a responsibility to be accurate and fair.
I know, I know....never reply to a review. This should be no exception, but self control has never been my forte:
First the title "The M-word...S & M". This is fun for some I suppose. Would that it were an accurate representation of the show it would warrant praise for its wit, even if the rest of the article provided a rounded and representative overview of the show...but alas no. This reviewer, as do many of the other contributors to the debate, makes AOT's "Messiah" sound like an "s & m sex fest". The review even says that the angel (I'm trying not to be a spoiler, really) is “ravaged” and that she wears a “skin-tight” outfit. All of this, I must be frank, is blatantly untrue. I don't want to say that the reviewer lied, but... More disturbing is that the review fails to mention the rest of the show (which does beg the question as to whether the reviewer stayed through the entire piece). The violence in this piece is indicated by the text. It is a necessary part of the story and, with that in mind, it is in fact quite a small part of the whole picture. This violence is the pathway to redemption and this reviewer in his overview (for it was much more overview than review) he stops short, giving the reader the impression that violence is the overriding aesthetic of the piece.
I read Ionarts daily. I think it serves admirably a great mission in the DC area. I must gush and say that I love this blog. I also believe that reviewers can write what they please. And, I encourage the audience to take from each performance whatever they will. That said, the reviewer has a responsibility to his readers to present a fair picture of what they will experience upon attending the show or concert being reviewed. Though I definitely question this reviewers abilities in judging the voice (based on this and other reviews), that is subjective opinion and I can only grumble that Ionarts certainly has reviewers with better ears. This production, to any observer, contained violence (sexual or not) in an isolated way where indicated by the text. It was tempered by a clear larger message (to which the entire third part was dedicated). Journalistic integrity should have compelled this reviewer to understand the power of his media and to present a comprehensive, even if critical, review.
As to the sexual side of things...I do encourage the audience to take whatever they will from these performances. It was, however, completely clear that no sexual inuendo was intended by the staging. I think that because our victim is a woman, in certain minds that violence automatically takes on a sexual color. It would be disingenuous of me to encourage free interpretation and then to be upset that some audience members interpreted a sexual overtone. My only complaint is that this review made it sound that the sexuality was overt. He intentionally exaggerated what was at most a scene open to multiple interpretations, and made it sound as if the sexual violence was clear and unavoidable. His use of "ravaged" has a very precise meaning and was obviously not what happened on the stage. This scene might have elicited sexual thoughts for some people. I insist that this has more to do with what is going on in the audience's heads than what is going on on the stage. I also think that this is absolutely fine. It is perfectly understandable why violence against women could be read as sexual. It often is, and the media that surrounds us often depicts it as such. Making that connection does not say anything unhealthy or unnatural. Still, since the staging in this production clearly did not imply sexual violence, and since the angel in our production is "broken with a rod of iron" and not "ravaged" in any way, I feel this reviewer perverted the truth to come up with a cute title and self-aggrandizing article.
Be critical, that is your job. But don't be so at the cost of presenting a true reflection of what you saw. That is also your job. Simply having a musical background is not sufficient to be a critic. Criticism is an art and a skill. Only the most innately talented individuals should practice it without some study of journalism, writing, or at the very least journalistic ethics. It does a disservice to the entire profession, and is no doubt part of why arts criticism is languishing in the United States. It is most important to recognize that what one writes in the public forum has real consequences, and that is why the reviewer has a responsibility to be accurate and fair.
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