St. Louis Symphony Orchestra with the Hubbard Street Dance Chicago - Live 2012.02.17 Powell Hall, St. Louis, Missouri

It'd been a good long while since I'd been to the SLSO, but this seemed like a special opportunity.

Event: St. Louis Symphony Orchestra, conducted by David Robertson, with the Hubbard Street Dance Chicago

Venue: Powell Hall

Location: St. Louis, Missouri

Date: 17 February 2012

Program:

1. Le nozze di Figaro Overture, K. 492, composed by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, 1786

2. Arcangelo, choreographed by Nacho Duato, 2000:

   a. Preludio (Largo) from Concerto grosso in F major, op. 6, no. 9, composed by Arcangelo Corelli, 1714

   b. Vivace and Grave from Concerto grosso in G minor, op. 6, no. 8, "Fatto per la notte di Natale"

   c. Adagio from Concerto grosso in G minor, op. no. 8

   d. Preludio (Andante largo) from Concerto grosso in C major, op. 6, no. 10

   e. Sarabanda (Largo) from Concerto grosso in B-flat major, op. 6, no. 11

   f. Preludio (Andante largo) from Concerto grosso in B-flat major, op. 6, no. 11

   g. Adagio and Vivace from Concerto grosso in D major, op. 6, no. 4

   h. Largo from Concerto grosso in D major, op. 6, no. 7

   i. "L'innocenza peccando perdeste" from Il primo omicidio, composed by Alessandro Scarlatti, 1707

3. Brandenburg Concerto No. 3 in G major, BWV 1048, composed by Johann Sebastian Bach, c. 1718

4. twice (once), choreographed by Terence Marling, 2011:

   a. Within Her Arms, composed by Anna Clyne, 2008-2009

5. Concerto in E-flat, "Dumbarton Oaks", composed by Igor Stravinsky, 1937-38

6. As few as 3000, choreographed by Alejandro Cerrudo, 2011

   a. Toccata e due canzoni, composed by Bohuslav Martinů, 1946

My first surprise of the evening was that the advertised Hubbard Street Dance Chicago did not hit the stage immediately. When the musicians and David Robertson came out, I became keenly aware of the open space on the stage left for the dancers, since the musical component of the evening was raised on an otherwise absent platform. The SLSO opened up with the overture of Figaro, which certainly made for a lively mood, but the piece itself offered no great surprise.

The next piece brought the picture into focus. Almost as soon as the orchestra bowed into the work, a pair of dancers hit the stage. The dance piece was set to an amalgamation of works by Corelli and Scarlatti, and as the musicians moved nearly seamlessly from one selection to another, so too alternated the dancing duos on the front stage.

The Brandenburg Concerto was another standard work done without choreographed accompaniment, but after the intermission this was followed by the much more dynamic and exciting Within Her Arms, a somewhat more abstract and moody piece that was matched by the dancers' rendition of twice (once). While the music often dwelled in distant realms of mild atonality and deep obscurity, the dancers too seemed to be playing with the spirits and the otherworldly.

Another unaccompanied piece, "Dumbarton Oaks", followed. It matched the feel and mood of the first half of the concert but almost seemed too familiar, which I found to be an unexpected response to a Stravinsky work. While blending a little too closely to ground already trodden, it also contrasted sharply with the works performed on either side of it, both of which had a far more experimental nature. The closing piece, Martinů's Toccata e due canzoni, was a little more unusual and presented me with something I was hitherto rather unfamiliar with.

The lasting impression is that the addition of a dance company to the performance entirely changed the aesthetic of the night. Normally, movement on the stage of a symphony orchestra is limited, constrained to small boxes. It is subtle and is focused solely on the movements required for the musical performance, with little extraneous motion or sound. The dance company, however, provided a dynamic, physical presence. One couldn't help but watch them. They drew the focus, and whenever they were present, the music became a background item, an easily overlooked element of the picture.

Although I enjoyed the dances quite well, I found it difficult to focus on both the motion and the music. Increasingly, I found myself giving up and just watching the dancers. This, then, led to a feeling of something lacking when the dancers were not accompanying the music. In retrospect, it is easy to understand that the dancers were likely worn out and needed time to rest between their performances, but as an observer in the moment it was hard to ignore the sudden lack of visual stimulus.

Hence, while I cannot begrudge the orchestra for performing while the dancers rested, it did make the evening feel unbalanced. The unaccompanied works began to feel like interludes that one wished would come sooner to an end. Nonetheless, the performances were solid, both by the orchestra and the dance company. The collaboration was fruitful, for the works in which they were on stage together stood out as a beautiful convergence of art forms.

Score: B

St. Louis Symphony Orchestra - Live 2011.03.19 Powell Hall, St. Louis, Missouri

Once again I have been honored with an invitation to the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra's Blogger's Night. I was a fan the first time I ever set foot in Powell Hall, but my appreciation for the SLSO has only deepened with time. Here's the latest:

Event: St. Louis Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Carlos Kalmar

Venue: Powell Hall

Location: St. Louis, Missouri

Date: 19 March 2011

Program:

1. Mephisto Waltz No. 1 (Der Tanz in der Dorfschenke), composed by Franz Liszt, 1856-61

2. Piano Concerto No. 4 in G major, op. 58, composed by Ludwig van Beethoven, 1804-07, featuring Arnaldo Cohen on piano

3. Atmosphères, composed by György Ligeti, 1961 →
4. Also sprach Zarathustra, op. 30, composed by Richard Strauss, 1896

Arriving early enough to the concert to attend the Pre-Concert Perspectives, I was immediately surprised to see not musical director and primary conductor David Robertson, but another man with what I assumed to be a slightly Germanic accent. Somehow I'd failed to notice that the night's performance featured a guest conductor, Carlos Kalmar. Born in Uruguay to Austrian parents and holding a resume that boasts years of work in Germany, my assumption wasn't too far off – and he could pronounce the German names and titles with an obvious fluency. Anyway, he discussed the works to be performed and explained some of the context, which is quite nice: it's not a bad deal to get a bonus half-hour music history lesson before the main event of the night.

And after another half-hour, after the rest of the attendees found their seats and the musicians tuned up, Kalmar returned to the stage and jumped into Liszt's Mephisto Waltz No. 1. Based on a licentious scene from the Faust legend in which the devil picks up a fiddle and drives Faust and an entire village into a frenzied, orgiastic dance in the woods, the piece blends serene pastorals of village life and innocent dancing with wild, dramatic leaps across the consciousness. The highlight is clearly the increasingly ecstatic uproar as the end approaches. The triangle rang clearer and higher than I knew the instrument capable of, and then everything else became intense, demanding, scattered, and loud. After a great flourish of the harp and a turn for the mysterious and unknown, several sharp jabs heralded the finish. The devil's tune was over; his task was complete.

Beethoven's rather unloved fourth piano concerto followed. Kalmar had indicated a connection between this piece and Liszt, but I failed to observe it: Arnaldo Cohen's piano was the showpiece, the work has no grounding story or text, and the piece is unfocused and overlong (over half an hour compared to the Waltz's ten or eleven minutes). The concerto begins with a brief twirl on the piano before awkwardly transitioning to the full orchestra. Such a start was apparently highly uncommon in the times of Beethoven, and so I applaud the idea of countering expectations, but the fact remains that it was a strange beginning, perhaps ultimately unfavorably constructed.

Cohen's virtuosity is unquestioned; his performance was solid and strong. The orchestra was similarly in step, but I couldn't help feel that this was simply not as strong of a piece as Beethoven was capable of composing. I wanted to like the trading of parts between piano and orchestra, but I kept wishing for them to truly blend and merge, but they kept their distance and refused to move closer. Every time one began to approach a conclusion, the other took over and brought the piece somewhere else. The piano chased the orchestra but could never catch it. This did occasionally work well: near the end of the first part, the piano ran all up and down the keyboard, and just as the orchestra joined the fray, the piano flitted in and out of the other instruments, defiantly standing independent. That interplay was successful – but little in the second or third sections matched it. The piece seemed to try to go everywhere and yet reach nothing.

After the intermission, Kalmar offered us a unique treat: Ligeti's Atmosphères, followed without pause by Strauss' Also sprach Zarathustra, both known in the public eye primarily for their inclusion in Stanley Kubrick's epic film 2001: A Space Odyssey. Ligeti's work was the only "modern" piece of the night, and also by far the most abstract, unusual, and experimental. Featuring no discernible melody or rhythm, the work is based on tone clusters and pointed directional ideas. Many segments were quite discordant, others were dark and thick and slow, others were spaced out and spooky. I couldn't help but observe the increased predilection of the audience to cough during this work; was this a sign of disapproval? And during a particularly harsh segment in which the instruments reached the maximal height of their scales, I caught a tacit musician on stage plugging her ears with her fingers.

And as things settled and cleared in a low, sparse moment, suddenly I recognized the first warming notes of Also sprach Zarathustra. The timpanist, as excited and engaged as a orchestra percussionist can be, cast resounding, powerful notes to welcome the dramatic excess of the piece. Bass drum and organ encouraged what was perhaps the loudest I've yet heard the SLSO perform. This is what people think of when they think of "classical music": big, grand, epic, sweeping. Two harpists strumming away. Massive percussion. Dramatic gestures.

And then the piece goes in a different direction entirely. It calms and settles and becomes a complete work totally separate from the relatively brief segment known to the general populace. The work grows and returns to powerful drama just slightly reminiscent of the start, and then recedes again into a smaller affair. It is strong, varied, and beautiful. And as it nears the ultimate conclusion, glockenspiel and chimes ring strong and clear, the music ascends and expands, and the weight becomes so much that it eventually must detonate, leaving a softer, slower, lighter finish.

It felt like a long concert. They fit a lot in, and there wasn't much overlap. The Liszt was perfect – loose yet requiring a dedication proficiency from the musicians – while Beethoven's concerto may ultimately fail even if the performance was solid. Ligeti was an experience, a challenge; but I like to be thrust out of my comfort zone sometimes, to be removed from my own context. I enjoyed the work, because it truly brought something new, and the juxtaposition with Strauss' masterpiece was perfect. A pause was unnecessary, since it was abundantly clear to the audience where one work ended and the other began. And Strauss' work – it was beautiful, powerful, and a wonder to behold in its entirety.

This was a fun night.

Score: B+

Thanks to Eddie, Dale, and my parents.

SLSO Blogger's Night 5 Summary

In case you didn't catch the other reviews of the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra's fifth Blogger's Night, go check them out on the SLSO blog. Here are the direct links:

Dear Dominik (link from SLSO blog) - I also wondered about some of those techniques, particularly the rubbing. I know what it sounds like on a guitar, and it's usually not pretty.

Jen from Euclid Records (link from SLSO blog) - The first Haiku review I've ever seen.

Urban Hoedown (link from SLSO blog) - I also wasn't sure about the clapping thing. And I love the #70 Grand. It goes two blocks past my home, so I ride it all the time. And the seats were indeed great.

Cici from Washington University's KWUR (link from SLSO blog, which includes some of her related tweets) - Sometimes I'm jealous of young people who grew up on this kind of "classical" music. I think Cici's connection with Scheherazade is akin to my connection with the Beatles or Kraftwerk.

Small Town Girl's Guide (link from SLSO blog) - I was also impressed by Fred Bronstein's appearance in the Met Bar. Yeah, sometimes even just showing up means something. [Edit 2019.11.13: archived link.]

I Went to a Show - I'm glad I'm not the only one who thought Concentric Paths was incredible! The other reviews seemed less appreciative of it, but it was probably my favorite piece of the night. And this line is perfect (I thought the exact same thing): "The conductor is charming and charismatic, and he explains things in a way that isn't condescending or tedious to people who know what's what, but he doesn't lose the attention of the uninitiated with elaborate fancy-talk." Gotta love David Robertson. My university even gave him an honorary degree at my graduation!

That's all I'm aware of. If I'm missing anyone, let me know! To all you SLSO bloggers, it's great meeting you/seeing you again, and I eagerly await the next one.

St. Louis Symphony Orchestra - Live 2010.11.12 Powell Hall, St. Louis, Missouri (review)

Following up from yesterday's semi-nonsensical post about the fifth Blogger's Night at the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra, this is my review in my normal style of writing and structure.

Event: St. Louis Symphony Orchestra, part of the Russian Festival, conducted by David Robertson

Venue: Powell Hall

Location: St. Louis, Missouri

Date: 12 November 2010

Program:

1. Symphony No. 1 in D major, op. 25, "Classical", composed by Sergei Prokofiev, 1916-17

2. Violin Concerto (Concentric Paths), composed by Thomas Adès, 2005, featuring Leila Josefowicz on violin

3. Scheherazade, op. 35, composed by Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov, 1888

The night opened up with a relatively small set of musicians – plenty of strings, but just one percussionist on the timpani. Prokofiev began his "Classical" symphony in a traditional style, starting with a big, dramatic, triumphant allegro part before bringing in a slower, softer, more serene larghetto section. While the allegro part hurled by quickly, the larghetto sprawled out and let the musicians descend in and out of a fairytale scene. David Robertson appeared to float through the misty fog of violin strings rather than merely conduct it. He urged the musicians to a dance in the woods, a bit of light, casual fun.

But then – ! Suddenly the the third segment, the gavotte, rushed to the scene. The picture sharpened, the cellists tapped their strings, and suddenly the orchestra was running through the woods and dancing on the air. With hardly a trace of a transition, the finale rocked hard and brought a surprise ending. Lulled by the enthusiasm and spirited vigor of the orchestra, I didn't even see it coming. Fifteen minutes had just flown by.

Leave it David to stick a contemporary English composition smack in the middle of two traditional, very classical Russian works. And yet, he succeeds. Adès' Concentric Paths appears otherworldly, much unlike the Russians that remain grounded in this one, even if they might recall times long past. Adès invokes the darker side of the traditional works for his rhythmic base, but he uses their forms as a springboard to jump into the unknown. The piece starts with something akin to a synthesizer, probably affected by the woodwinds. Led by Leila Josefowicz (whom I previously saw two years ago perform Steven Mackey's Beautiful Passing), the violins flew wildly across the room. Leila jerked around and convulsed, caught in the passion of performance, while the other strings players jabbed and plucked with all their might.

Weird warbles, perhaps emitted by the scaling violins, evoked a theremin, and by extension, a 50s sci-fi flick. The high-tension strings and dark accompaniment set the mood of a spooky planet in some other solar system: an enemy alien has been spotted, it crawls and lurches, and it might just attack. Moments of respite came with flutes and peaceful violins, but deep, thick rhythms exposed the inner anxiety, should the alien being reemerge. By the time the third and final segment, "Rounds", began, Leila appeared as if ready for a challenge. Some other weird tone emerged, sounding like a didgeridoo, before a drumset kicked in and the orchestra began to move. The strange time signatures and dark tones that finished the piece sounded almost familiar by then – something cool was happening, but it was something we'd seen before, so the excitement and tension weren't quite the same.

The final work of the night was the more traditional Scheherazade. (At David's Pre-Concert Perspectives before the actual performance, almost the entire present crowd raised their hand at the question of if they'd heard the work before.) After the raw, intense nervousness and anxious curiosity of Concentric Paths, this work felt staler, entrenched firmly in the past. Some segments felt surprisingly similar – the jabs and punches, the occasional subtle tension, the sweet plucking – but much of the first half felt too methodical, predictable, or premeditated. It felt directed, perhaps too ordered, but yet that makes some sort of sense, since the whole concept is that the eponym of the piece tells a long series of stories (the 1001 Arabian Nights) to try to prevent the Sultan from murdering her. Perhaps Rimsky-Korsakov intended such a deterministic structure.

Consistent throughout the piece was a fugue of just the first violin and a harp. The rest of the large-scale orchestra would drop out and let just the two instruments spin their pretty little bit before the story would continue. The third part, "The Young Prince and Princess", felt appropriately very courtly and stately, in contrast with the charging knights and feudal heralds of the previous parts. This part was perhaps the tamest and least interesting, but this led into the final segment, a series of shorter tales that jumped around wantonly and rashly. Grand rushes and big percussion devolved into a more cacophonous jam, but the musicians remained united and descended slowly before running up and down, back upwards and further upwards and the feelings rose higher and higher to a harmony that felt impossibly good for its towering position.

And then the night was over. For a 45-minute piece, Scheherazade feels long, but not that long. In its own context, the work is adventuresome and complex, but that just can't compare to Concentric Paths, which reached another whole level of exploration and development. Neither of the Russian works offered much of a surprise, but the performances were beautiful. It was easy to become lost in the waves of melody and start dreaming of other places and scenes. In that sense, the performance can only be described as a success: this was probably the first classical concert that I've attended in which my mind was alight with such wondrous imagery. Just as David floated and danced with the music, my imagination transcended the seat and the city I was sitting in.

Score: A-

Thanks to Eddie, Dale, and Shannon.

St. Louis Symphony Orchestra - Live 2010.11.12 Powell Hall, St. Louis, Missouri (notes)

I was invited last night to the fifth Blogger's Night of the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra. After discussing the night with the blogging crew, I shall post two versions of my review. This first one is simply a transcription of my notes that I took during the performance. I'll let the reader try to make sense of it. The second review, which will be posted tomorrow, will feature my traditional style of writing and analysis.

Remember, I came all the way back from Germany for this! Here goes:

7:00 Pre-Concert Perspectives

Prokofiev too fast, like Formula 1

No Communism!

Genetically modified music

singing at cows, staring en masse

8:06 Prokofiev

Big open strings, dramatic

triumphant, sweet

sehr upbeat, grand, dramatic

so many strings, not much else, only perc timpani

drives to one big moment, one big swing, allegro over

Larghetto: soft, serene, slower

David floats, picked pretty bit, woods/brass chill

oh! big! no, released again

soft bed descending bits, fairytale

waltzing through the forest

softens, descends, peaceful a dance in the woods, spring

Gavotte: bigger, grander, sharper,

cellos tapping strings loud page turn

oh! fast! sudden! sharp! whirling about!

flutes really going! fast! through the trees!

woah violins, all over fast [arrow to previous line] dancing on air

row of women changed page for men (cellos)

woodwinds/brass really rockin it!

went right into finish, surprised ending,

lulled into the vigor + sweetness

timpani like a cat

8:22?

Adès: 8:24 new timpanist + perc now

Leila in a pretty grey dress

David: aware of 300+ year violin tradition

she moves as possessed, just like before

8:32 very spooky, dark, violin squeaky

ominous, descending into darkness, falling

vio all over, wild, heavy

8:33 wavering lead vio

synth-like notes – woods?

vio all over all over, shit dark already

[scribble] those wavering high notes

like a theremin, sci fi

on some fucked up planet

super high v notes, minimal accompaniment

dreamy, spacey, feathery

she is beyond good and evil

strings jerk alien! enemy! scared!

gasp! Percu! shit! hit hard, stop

Paths: jab jab pluck jab stretch pluck

aggressive plucking Bam Again

structure growing heavy shit strange jungle

dark but logical don't take it for granted

she flies convulses the the only one standing but the timpanist

deep comp, crazed v moment of movement [?]

No vs at all, descending creepy something's coming

there it is oh shit, strange, jabs out

ugh thick deep rhythm

oh sweet now, softer, v + flutes alien is away peace on earth

i want that dress smooth serene a bit heavier more dramatic

darker but not evil

beyond good + evil

fucked up v notes

no logic there wont stop

everything else cools

v finally slows finally

Rounds: she awaits the challenge

starts low + creepy Digeridoo [sic] sound! wtf

drums hell yeah strings, woods going, eerie

learning new things, this aint too bad can handle this

v there it is, normal though – sorta cool [?]

she's freakin out generic dark, cool but not as cool

whirling exploration low taps 5/4 oh jab that v

ouch! big final sudden swipe! not totally unexpected

but still big 8:51 lots of clapping

9:19 Rimsky-Korsakov

Big, heavy, ominous, puncuated (Police sirens)

soft, tragic, pointed – harp! Much fuller orch

first v solo more classical, trad

Grand majestic, timpani soft + sweet lilting in the air

decisive scheduled precise strictly non-loose

oh – bigger grander, wilder, is this a dance?

brass make it big pointed directed formulated

pretty but predictable

Another part? slower even more premeditated

still lilting swaying as if to dance

bigger grander really big notes really really big

huge brass notes slower, methodical

nice pointed conclusion bring led from point A to B

harpy + v solo bassoon (oboe?) solo

slow but subtle beauty plucks

sounds classical, medieval, court [undecipherable]

[arrow to two lines prior] oh crap – harsh injection feudal call

riders on the storm comin from afar heralds

shake those vs somethings coming fast

alles shaking trembling okay calmer tense though nervous

tap tap tap nice perc bis triangle yeah

knights coming oh lots of them here they march

tromp stomp tra la la triangle jump!

relative peace soft plucking

fairly triumphant charging in control

coordinated chaos wild strings

jab jab, punch crescendos nice

oh sweet plucks held high oh that harp

subtle but a bit tense rising tension bigger + bigger

big!!! big note [arrow to "tense" in previous line] | pause

melodic strings soft + simple + serene unghh

pretty though floating impatience in the crowd

wheres the action – or am I just noticing

snare!? so subtle + grey

dancey back + forth .............

first v + harp nochmals

crash big follows basic melody storybook

very small + subtle pause

that first v + harp again oh god so much more

dramatic bang big fest big event movement

courtly? grand presentation tambo

let the [undecipherable] big thrusts chase jumping

o, now serene und schön noch wieder

pluck – pluck 1-2 / 1 2 1 2 3 –– !

those threes chasin drama big david is all over it

perc shit big long grand a bit dark

cacophonous but united in a grand front

descend [scribble] [scribble] up and down

dark back sweet top lulled into peace

[arrows sweeping upwards] [scribbles] just over [undecipherable]

squeak whistly [scribble] forlorn

rising to a harmonious top note . . . .

10:03 individuals standing up thx david

hoots and hollers ha ha

SLSO Blogger's Night 4

In my absence from St. Louis, I've been unable to attend the last two Blogger's Nights at the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra. Thankfully, Chris Maue made it to the last one. Check out his first part of a coming set here.

To read other blogger's posts, check out the SLSO blog posts here and here. There may still be more to come...

As for myself, I've got plenty in the works but progress is slow as a result of constant travel.

[Edit 2010.04.27: You can see all of Chris' latest round of SLSO comics here. Make sure you read the alt texts!]

SLSO Follow-Up

The story of St. Louis Symphony Orchestra's Carnegie Hall performances just keeps getting more interesting. I already reviewed one of their warm-up nights in St. Louis, but I wanted to share how things ended up at the real deal. If you've been reading the SLSO blog, you've probably already caught most of this, but apparently, at the actual Carnegie Hall performance, the flights were delayed and the musicians didn't arrive until under two hours before showtime. For the first night (the night I didn't get to see), the composer of one of the pieces who was also set to perform a solo vocal part failed to arrive at all. David Robertson, the SLSO conductor, had to do the job himself and let someone else handle the conducting. Apparently, it turned out well anyway. The New York Times has a positive review of both nights with more details.

Speaking of the SLSO blog, I never linked back to the other reviews from that night. The first set can be found here, another here, and the last set (including a link back to my own review) here.

I'd like to thank Eddie Silva at the SLSO once more for a great night. I can't reiterate enough how much fun I've had at the SLSO recently. I'm still surprised I never went before six months ago.

St. Louis Symphony Orchestra - Live 2009.03.27 Powell Hall, St. Louis, Missouri

So it happened again: the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra offered me a ticket to a concert of great import under the guise of "Blogger's Night 2". Who am I to say no? Last time was so much fun, and it was an engaging new challenge for me to write about classical music. This time, after I checked out an exhibit at the Contemporary Art Museum curated by a classmate of mine, I took along my film-reviewer brother along for the ride to the symphony.

Event: Transformations, performed by the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra, conducted by David Robertson
Venue: Powell Hall
Location: St. Louis, Missouri
Date: 27 March 2009

Program:
1. Good Friday Music from Parsifal, composed by Richard Wagner (1882)
2. Canto di speranza, for cello and orchestra, composed by Bernd Alois Zimmerman (1952-53, revised 1957), featuring cellist Anssi Karttunen
3. Luonnotar, op. 70, composed by Jean Sibelius (1910-13), featuring soprano Karita Mattila
4. Mirage, composed by Kaija Saariaho (2007), featuring soprano Karita Mattila and cellist Anssi Karttunen
5. Symphony No. 5 in E-flat major, op. 82, composed by Jean Sibelius (1915-19)

As conductor David Robertson took his place on stage, he started by responding to a resounding walkie-talkie message that echoed through the silent building with, "We're the only orchestra with Richard Wagner on the walkie-talkie." It was humorous, but it reminded me of what sort of acoustics we're dealing with at Powell Hall: the microphones dangling from the ceiling are only for recording purposes; there is no sound reinforcement whatsoever (unless I'm totally missing something, that is). Robertson spoke his line with his back halfway turned to the audience and yet he was loud and clear (as was the original walkie-talkie sentence). I'm amazed by the clarity of the unamplified sound in the hall.

The performance opened with Good Friday Music from Parsifal, which began with a standard arrangement of sweet-sounding strings, but the piece built up into a grand crescendo before slow flutes and the string section dominated a mellower section. A sudden change to a minor key heralded a softer section led by the woodwinds. As the piece went on, it continued to vacillate between longer, brighter, fuller segments and short, dark parts, usually accented by some strong but minimalist bass and timpani parts. It finished with a bevy of descending lines slowing down quietly into a final resounding note. My favorite part might have been that the timeline in the concert program that noted that the most important event of 1882 (other than this piece's composition) was Friedrich Nietzsche's proposition that God is dead. I find the relationship between the piece and Nietzsche to be tenuous at best.

Canto di speranza, composed by a German but carrying an Italian title, translates to Song of Hope. Where the hope comes in is beyond me, but this was probably my favorite piece of the evening. The performers rearranged themselves significantly; there were no violins and fewer other strings and brass. The piece began with an abstract, discombobulated arrangement of percussion splashes: a bass drum, bongos, and quad tom-toms laid out a wildly syncopated pseudo-rhythm with piano strikes thrown in at odd moments. Plucked violas and strange brass and harp parts filled in the sound spectrum while solo cellist Karttunen grew more active in his part. A sudden breakout into a briefly recognizable beat with strong horn blasts withdrew into a more disconnected but still dramatic section that only loosely felt in key. (As it turns out, the piece was composed in twelve-tone serialism, meaning that there truly is no key.) The pianist turned and reached over to a conveniently-placed celesta to add in a few small parts of relatively low volume. A mad dash of trills and notes in the highest registers dropped down back into the "normal" weirdness of the opening of the piece before ending in cello slides, squeaks, and a low dragging close.

Luonnater was composed by a famed Finn for a solo soprano, performed here by well-regarded Marita Mattila. The lyrics were in Finnish, so a large projector displayed the translation. The tale is a creation myth sourced from the Finnish epic Kalevala. A faint string bed opened, and Mattila began almost immediately thereafter. As she sung of a lonely woman of the heavens complaining of her empty life and descending into the ethereal sea, the tense but pretty string and harp parts entered a darker segment. The woman remained unhappy until a duck came, heralding a build-up of strings and brass. A loud and dramatic section began as the duck couldn't find a place to nest, until the woman, described now as the mother of waters, granted it a place on her knee. The music quieted and then grew again darker as the woman was bothered by the warmth of the growing eggs. The nest eventually rolled off and broke apart, and although beauty emerged, the music remained dark and uncertain. The piece ended on a slightly upward happier note as the eggs became the sky, moon, stars, and earth.

Mirage is a contemporary Finnish piece with English lyrics, just two years old. Featuring solo cellist Karttunen and soprano Mattila now together, I had high hopes. Weird squeaks, squalls, and glissandos made for a really cool dark opening. A percussionist did a weird thing on the cymbals at several points in the work: he had a long (wooden?) shaft that he drew across the edge of the cymbal while using his other hand to perhaps steady the cymbal. It generated an unusual high pitch. Mittali, now clad in a wide yellow gown, began singing about flying, calling herself a "sacred eagle woman", and later, a shooting star and a "sacred clown". The piece is based on the effects of a hallucinogenic mushroom, and the psychedelia thereof was clearly borne out through Mittali's strange vocal stylisms and the strange noises and crashes of the accompanying music. The solo cello played a less important role; Karttunen almost seemed overlooked by the intense vocals until about two-thirds through during the craziest parts before Mittali sang, "I am! I am the shooting star! Because... I can fly!" The music became louder and more dramatic until the end of her pronouncement, where the strings began to make descending wails. Slow glides downward, much like a siren, brought the resolution, perhaps revealing that her drug-induced vision must eventually end; she must come down and return to normalcy.

The final piece, Symphony No. 5 in E-flat major, was a more traditional work, again by the Finnish Sibelius. After the stranger middle three pieces, this brought us back to the more familiar ground established in Good Friday Music from Parsifal. This work was a much longer piece than the others, lasting over half an hour. Timpani and brass opened, with woodwinds and strings following, eventually crescendoing into a big swing. The brass and woodwinds began a bold interchange of lines, which led into an intense and dramatic rising string part that resolved into a bigger and lusher segment. This fell into a softer part that quickly became tenser before a bassoon took a pretty lead segment. As the music swelled louder and bolder again, the tempo rose along with the tension. This fell into nicer territory before the strings began to prance all over the place, with different parts appearing to rise out of a different part of the stage at each second. A large build-up into a loud section was dominated by clear brass parts and big chords. The timpani grew stronger before everything halted for just a beat. Light woodwinds, brass, and pizzicato strings picked up again. Eventually, after another brief pause, the strings picked up to an incredible pace, wavering and flying about until settling into what sounded like a section borrowed from a classical movie score. It sounded celebratory or especially epic, but then collapsed into a much quieter part. Speedy violins led into a darker, sadder section. More familiar bold brass lines brought a dark drone from the strings, concluding in big timpani rolls and a final series of quick string jabs.

I found that Good Friday Music from Parsifal was fairly tame and calm. It isn't a bad work, nor was it poorly performed; but it just seemed rather plain, especially in comparison to the other works of the night. Canto di speranza ended up as my favorite – Karttunen is a fantastic cellist and he really held down the piece. The obtuse percussion was cool, but could have been aimless and distracting had it not been for the superb cello work acting as a sort of counterpoint. Luonnator was certainly interesting, but the context of the epic tale was a bit difficult.  Mattila is clearly a talented vocalist; she has complete control over her voice, and she wrought that power well in the work. In Mirage, however, I felt like she was perhaps too intense and overdramatic. It may be that in a classical context that shouldn't even be a concern, but I felt distracted and removed from the piece. The intention of the piece was solid, and the music worked, but Mattila's stylisms were a detraction for me, and Karttunen seemed occasionally underutilized. Sibelius' Symphony No. 5 in E-flat major was fairly good; the work neared the point of being too traditional to be interesting, but it branched out well and had several really cool parts, especially with the brass sections. I liked that it was big and varied, but it was a bit too long and overdrawn, almost too big in scope.

Since this concert was a preview for a performance at Carnegie Hall in New York City (on April 4th), I'm sure a lot of work was put into this production. It was a long and varied program, and the best parts were truly excellent. However, there were parts that I felt dragged a bit, or where my interest faded some. Mattila is intensely skilled, but I found her actual performance to be hit-and-miss; Karttunen was similarly excellent but occasionally lost in the forest of sounds. The symphony as a whole performed quite well and I was pleased with the endeavor as a whole.

Score: B+

St. Louis Symphony Orchestra - Live 2008.11.15 Powell Hall, St. Louis, Missouri

As is probably obvious by now, I usually write reviews on rock music, and I don't think I've yet even really gone into jazz or folk (but maybe a little dance or pop). I've also spurned classical music... until now. I actually saw the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra about a month ago, but I didn't review it because I didn't feel qualified or knowledgeable enough on the subject. Although I still feel that way, I was invited by Chris Maue of Highway 61 Revised to see the symphony again, as he was invited by Eddie Silva, Publications Manager of the SLSO, for a so-called "Blogger's Night". Other reviews and commentaries on the night by the other invited bloggers should be available from www.slso.org/blog/. (Chris' can be found here.) Due to the nature of the event and my invitation, I figure that it's only appropriate for me to comment. And in the future, maybe I'll review other classical concerts I attend. Anyway, on to the review:

Event: St. Louis Symphony Orchestra (loosely part of the Guitar Festival), conducted by David Robertson
Venue: Powell Hall
Location: St. Louis, Missouri
Date: 15 November 2008

Program:
1. A Prayer Out of Stillness, composed by Mark-Anthony Turnage, 2007, featuring John Patitucci on acoustic bass and electric bass guitar
2. Beautiful Passing, composed by Steven Mackey, 2008, featuring Leila Josefowicz on violin
3. The Rite of Spring, composed by Igor Stravinsky, 1911-13

I took four pages of notes while listening, but most of them are incomprehensible and I think that getting that detailed wouldn't be helpful. I'll just go a work at a time and then give an overall impression.

The first piece,  A Prayer Out of Stillness, was probably the one that netted the association with the Guitar Festival, which was actually more related to the previous Thursday, where the SLSO played Frank Zappa and some other out-of-the-ordinary pieces at the Pageant. Regardless, this piece featured John Patitucci on electric 6-string Yamaha bass for half of it. The work is divided into four parts, and each did have a different feel.

The first part, "First Prayer," featured Patitucci on his upright bass, mostly plucking in the higher registers, but then also bowing. The second part, "Second Prayer," had Patitucci switch to the electric bass for some intense fingerpicking runs in the higher strings. Throughout, the rest of the orchestra, using only a fairly small set of musicians, played fairly simple parts, clearly just laying a foundation for the soloist to work off of.

The third part, "Call and Response," was just that: a second bassist came out on an upright, and Patitucci stayed on his electric. The other musicians remained silent as the two bassists held what in the rock world would be called a bass-off. I figure there are two ways to view this: either it's a very, very skilled, theoretically masterful improvisation, or it's just "disconnected noodling" (as my compatriot half-jokingly quipped). I was fairly absorbed by it all, really. The dual nature of flawless electric fingerpick-soloing and comparable bowing in the lower ranges on the acoustic bass was pretty cool. The fourth part, "Third Prayer," was something of a reprise if the second part, with Patitucci on acoustic bass and the rest of the orchestra again in tow.

Instrumentally and compositionally speaking, Beautiful Passing was a step higher. The orchestra brought out some percussion (including a drumset!), a harp, a piano, and the woodwinds and brass (which were notably absent from the previous piece). Leila Josefowicz was featured on violin. She led things off, but then the orchestra started doing short crazy parts every few measures. The piece continually alternated between very frenetic segments and much calmer parts with Josefowicz a bit more prominent. At the height of it all, she was bowing her highest notes, then doing great trills accompanied by the woodwinds, and then sliding all over the strings. Things got progressively louder and louder, more and more intense, with Josefowicz all over the place and the orchestra crashing hard on the percussion and hitting some dark notes. Eventually it calmed down and came to a slow end with Josefowicz on a final long note.

The Rite of Spring was probably the highlight of the night. Although I'd heard the piece before, I'd never seen it performed, and it is quite the experience. A video projector carried explanatory text during the piece, as it was originally written for a ballet, and the context would have been otherwise lacking. "Part One: The Adoration of the Earth" begins with a pleasant festival, with the woodwinds, brass, and strings all doing nice bits, but slowly moving in some more intense and dark parts. Before long, timpani entered, the cellists were tapping their bows against the strings, and the other string musicians were doing great pizzicato parts.

As the festival dance gets a bit more extreme, things continued to amp up and get darker. The cellos in particular were great, and the timpani and cymbals let us know things were awry.  During a duel with a rival tribesman, the instruments exhibited jabs in line with what must have been the fight. A new cacophony rose as a sage appeared, but then suddenly things settled down significantly. The music droned at low volume and got steadily more intense before pausing briefly to transition to "Part Two: the Sacrifice". Strange sounds started things off; the violins did a quick repeating ascending part, then the music became more drone-like before once again becoming very intense.  As a girl is sacrificed, the strings shrieked and the percussion crashed about. After slowing and calming down for a minute, the music returned to the frenzy, and as the sacrificial girl fell, the pitch of the instruments rose and suddenly stopped.

For the most part, the music of A Prayer Out of Stillness failed to impress, but I understand that the main draw was the featured bassist, and Patitucci was certainly talented. I rather wish that I could have seen him perform a good melody over a more interesting piece. Beautiful Passing was more complex and dynamic, and Josefowicz instilled a lot of passion into the piece and helped keep my attention. However, even she was no match for The Rite of Spring, which blew me out of the water. I can't think of any other piece I've heard that is quite as extreme and dramatic and nearly avant-garde (while still maintaining structure) as this one. The orchestra really put a lot of energy into the work and it showed well.

As a sort of sidenote, I rather enjoy observing the nature of a symphony concert. The culture is somewhat fascinating. Everyone dresses up very well and barely so much as coughs during the performance. (Imagine a rock band demanding that kind of respect!) I'm never sure what other people think about a young, longhaired (post-)punk coming and making postmodern social commentary, but maybe if the orchestra can go out on a limb and do The Rite of Spring, I don't stick out too much.

Score: B

Thanks again to Eddie and Chris.

[Edit 2008.11.22: Here is the permanent link to Eddie's main post on the SLSO blog (hilariously titled after a panel in Chris' comic), here is a link to another review of the show by Jen from the Euclid Records blog, and here is a link to a related post on Confluence City.]