New Year, New Music

If you really want to get a spirited discussion going, take a group of friends out to a “new music” concert and then ask them what they thought afterwards. By its very nature, modern (or should I say postmodern?) music is supposed to get very different reactions from different people, so you are bound to get a good conversation going. Just like modern visual art, you’re bound to hear a lot of “my kid could have done that,” “I wish they paid me to do that!” and my favorite “how is that art/music?” (My personal answers to which are, respectively “But he/she didn’t”, “I’m sure you do”, and “that’s a good question, what do you think?”)

The entire 20th century, and the bit of the 21st century that we have experienced have been about radically changing the direction of art and music. Unfortunately, when many people listen to contemporary music, they are doing so from a very outdated perspective. The argument can definitely be made that during certain artistic eras, the purpose of music was to tell a story, augment a dance or visual scene, or maybe just to be a beautiful distraction from ordinary life. This, however, is not always the case for modern and contemporary music. Much music from the 20th and 21st century was composed to make the listener think, and ironically, when you are arguing over it after the concert, it is doing just that. If you hear a car horn out on the street, you probably think very little of it, but if you hear it in the middle of a symphony, you are likely to have some sort of reaction – you’ll think about it. Getting the audience to say “Why on earth did that composer put a car horn here?” very well could be the reason that the composer put a car horn there.

A few years back I heard a cell phone ring at a concert and thought to myself that it was only a matter of time before some composer wrote a piece to be performed on cell phones. It isn’t exactly what I had in mind, but here is an example of just that. I can’t say that I like this piece aesthetically, but I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to. By presenting music in this form, the composer is asking us to think about technology and art, the place of cell phones in our lives (should they be used to make music?) and, I think, asking the audience to mull over the definition of music (is this piece music, or is noise, is it both?) I got a laugh out of some of the comments, both because they were funny, and also because I’m willing to bet this piece was written to get a reaction, so the critics posting are really just giving the artist what he or she wanted.

Our eyes and ears should always be open for “new” music. John Cage (whose work is pictured to the above left - how would you play that, exactly?) would argue it’s all around us. On March 18th through 21st, the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra will be performing Corigliano’s Circus Maximus, a very unique and modern piece that I have heard about and am very much looking forward to. I’m also looking forward to the discussion that will undoubtedly take place afterwards.

Music and Books

Reading about music is not as good as listening to it. However, there is definitely something to be said for educating oneself about the great art of music through the written word. If music was truly meant to stand alone, composers would leave us no notes in the score, and orchestras would be able to save a lot of money by not printing all those programs that we desperately try to thumb through before the lights go down. (Additionally, this blog would probably not exist… but I’m not even going to think about that catch-22). Reading about the history and context of a piece, the composer that brought it into the world, and the world into which it was brought can add many layers of meaning to the notes.

This is why I’ve recently set myself to reading a book or two about music. In college, I took a handful of music history classes, and did my fair share of reading for them, but I was hoping to go a little bit beyond a dry textbook. The first book I picked up was a relatively short read entitled Stradivari's Genius: Five Violins, One Cello, and Three Centuries of Enduring Perfection, which follows five violins and (you guessed it) one cello from their creation at the studio of Antonio Stradivari to the 20th century. What is interesting about this book is that the author, Toby Faber, chooses to structure his book as if it were a biography of these instruments. He discusses them as if they were living people, moving through different periods of their lives. In the process, we learn about how the instruments were made, how history changed around them, and how we, as a modern society, still just can’t figure out what makes a Stradivarius violin so wonderful. I was intrigued by the fact that, despite watching so many string instruments be played on the stage in front of me, I knew so little about these instruments. After reading this, I’m always going to feel sorry for those people in the Smithsonian American History Museum who quickly browse by the musical instrument cases – they are missing so much.

If you’re in the mood for a heavier read, I strongly suggest The Rest Is Noise: Listening to the Twentieth Century by Alex Ross. Ross is the New Yorker’s music critic and also the recipient of a MacArthur Genius Grant – the guy knows what he’s talking about and he knows how to write it wonderfully. I will say, this book takes some mental energy to get through, but it is well worth it. Ross walks us through the tumultuous 20th century, demonstrating how history and social currents, the lives of the composers, and the music are all so complexly intertwined. On top of being acutely interesting, the book is very well written and obviously thoroughly researched. I wouldn’t want to go head to head with Mr. Ross in a game of musical trivia. Although I already felt comfortable with modern art and music, I felt so much more proficient after reading this, both on a micro level (Ross goes into great detail on a number of popular pieces) and on a larger, overview level.

After reading about a piece that I have already heard, I love to listen to it again to see how my perception has changed. The fact that I always hear more than I did before speaks to the value of picking up a book or two about music.

Hollywood Epics!

You have to love a movie that pulls you in for three or more hours not with cheap thrills and glitzy special effects, but rather with excellent acting, a great storyline and an all around beautiful production. This is the Hollywood epic. They are bigger than the sum of their parts and are remembered for decades after their release. I am by no means a movie connoisseur (although I would like to think I’m working on it) but I do love big Hollywood productions, and I loved the October 8th concert by the Baltimore Symphony at the Strathmore because it featured the music from so many of these great movies. (I was disappointed to have missed last week’s season opening concert, but seeing this concert made up for it) I think that in order for a movie to truly achieve top status in the annals of Hollywood history, all the components have to work together like clockwork. I don’t want to lessen any of these facets by attempting to rank their significance, but I think we can all agree that the music to these wonderful Hollywood movies is pretty significant, and when we hear it, we love it.

I personally found movie music to be a gateway drug into music appreciation. When I was much younger, my father would listen to what is now a rather outdated Best of John Williams CD on these massive speakers we had in our living room. The house would be filled with The Imperial March or Close Encounters of the Third Kind Theme. As I got older, I appreciated the music even more. While in band in middle and high school I became even more interested in movie music (which makes you so popular at that age…) and started developing ears for classical music as well. I was soon hooked and credit the music of the movies for getting me started on classical music.

I know that some musical purists write off movie music. I understand why this might happen. A movie score is written to supplement another medium, where as most traditional music was composed to make a statement on its own. Movie music is also written for a much wider audience than who would normally enjoy traditional classical, and any time you try to broaden the appeal of an art form, you are going to risk alienating the group to whom it was originally targeted. However, I am always happy to see those defending the quality of some (not all) of the music we hear in the movies. Although they are usually treated in a pops format, you won’t find too many orchestras that don’t occasionally throw in some movie tunes, and many music appreciation and history curriculums now include the genre.

And I think that most of us have a special place in our heart for movie music – especially the music of the epics. I think this is because we hear the music and we associate it, naturally, with the movie. However, we then associate that movie with the time in our lives when it was produced, or even an entire era. Every time I hear the music to Titanic, which was performed at last week’s concert, I will remember those awkward middle school days when that movie was king (of the world!). When The Lord of the Rings came up, I drifted back to my high school days. Although, I was not alive when many of the movies featured at the concert were popular, I know that many in the audience could probably remember being amazed at How the West was Won, or who they were dating when Ben Hur’s chariot raced by and Lawrence of Arabia rode through the sand. These movies and the amazing music associated with them bring us back to different times in our lives. I would like to think that as humans, we try to remember the good more than the bad, so it’s easy to see why we love these movie tunes that bring us back to such good times.

The Magical Music of Disney

Who doesn’t love Disney? If you were at the Magical Music of Disney concert on July 16th or 17th you know that not too many people don’t. Mary Poppins, Aladdin, The Little Mermaid? You can probably hum a lot of those tunes without even thinking about it. I will even go out on a branch and admit that I’ve played a lot of them in band during my high school and college days. The vast spectrum of appreciation was reflected in the diversity of the audience - I have never seen such a range of people at the Strathmore! There were all ages and types of people enjoying music that is truly timeless.

Although it sounds odd, I hope a lot of those people were not regulars to the Strathmore and the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra. I think a lot of cultural organizations fall into somewhat of a rut at times, as they tend to draw the same audience over and over again. It’s obviously great to be a repeat patron, but part of the mission of a symphony orchestra should also be to expose as many people as possible to the joys of music. As I was looking around last Thursday night at all the young people (in some cases very young people) in the audience, I was glad to see so many being exposed to great music at such a young age. Hopefully, those children will start building memories around those great tunes that same way that so many previous generations have. The movies of Walt Disney, and the excellent music that always accompanies them, have become part of our culture and I sure hope it stays a part. A large chunk of that audience was not alive when Julie Andrews sang in Mary Poppins (I wasn’t), and many probably weren’t even alive when The Little Mermaid made such a splash in the late 1980’s, but they definitely seemed to know the music. Through great summer programs like this one (and through the magical marketing of Disney), this great music will hopefully be passed down for years to come.

Another magical moment that I had at this concert was when it dawned on me that I was able to follow along with the movie just by hearing the music. Over the orchestra, a giant projection screen was showing stills or clips from the movie that the music was selected from. Outside of the orchestra, there was no sound or dialogue attached to the films and photos. Hearing the music while also seeing these silent clips of the movie reminded me how much of a story music really can tell on its own. Through the emotion in the music you are able to figure out who the bad guys are, when things are going well for the hero, and when love is in the air. Additionally, I was reminded of how much a movie would lose if you stripped away its musical component. Most people out there could probably hum at least a few bars from The Lion King, and probably even sing the songs, but do you really know more than just a random quote or two from the non-musical dialogue? A movie without music, like a world without Disney, would truly be a good bit less magical.

The 4th and the 1812

The 4th of July has come and gone and that means you have probably gotten your fair share of patriotic music. A good brass section is right up there with hot dogs and sparklers on the must-have list for an Independence Day celebration. Every city or town that can scrape together a band or an orchestra does so on the Fourth of July to accompany their firework celebration. The very image of a marching band leading the parade or a community orchestra playing under a band shell at the end of an open field is distinctly American. (The Music Man, anyone?)

One of the reasons that the marches of John Phillips Sousa, undoubtedly one of America’s most populist composers, became so famous is simply because they could be heard. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that Sousa’s marches don’t hold a roman candle to Rachmaninoff’s concertos when it comes to technical nature, but they are a lot more hum-able. While the high art music of the turn of the century was heard by a wealthy few that could amass in concert halls, the marches of Sousa and his contemporaries were blaring down the streets and parks of America for free or little charge. You could literally hear them a mile away.

Sousa and his marches paved the way for the boisterous marches and brass songs we now hear on the 4th, like Yankee Doodle Dandy, Stars and Stripes Forever, etc. However, you can almost always count on the concert ending with the same song – the 1812 Overture. Now don’t get me wrong, I love the 1812 Overture as much as the next music appreciation blogger, but why the heck has this piece come to be so closely associated with our Independence Day? For one thing, the piece was composed by Tchaikovsky (seen at the right), a composer hailing from a country that for the better part of the 20th century, had quite a few nuclear missiles aimed at us. Although he did visit a few times, I imagine that Tchaikovsky, like many other European artists of the time, thought very little of American art.

As I said, I do like many things about the 1812. Chief among them is the thematic progression of the piece. In brief, Tchaikovsky is musically portraying Napoleon’s failed attempt to take Russia in 1812. The sounds of La Marseillaise (France’s ever-popular national anthem) can clearly be heard intermingled with the melody of The Tsar’s Hymn, just as the Russian and French armies were clashing in battle. At times, the French theme sounds quite triumphant, as it did indeed seem that Napoleon would win the day. At the last second, the Russian artillery (the famous cannons at the end of the Overture) unleashes on the French army as the bitter winter decimates their numbers. The Overture ends with the Russian theme completely overpowering the French theme.

You might notice that America does not enter into that story, although a cursory memory of high school American History might tell you that we were involved in the War of 1812. We were fighting off the British, who were also fighting the French, and thus allied with Russia. In fact, Britain’s army successfully invaded the good ol’ USA in 1812 and burned Washington D.C. to the ground. So, all and all, we’re using a song that celebrates the victory of one of our enemies against us as the center piece of our Independence Day celebration…

And why is this? One reason is that Arthur Fiedler, the famous conductor laureate of the Boston Pops, wasn’t going to let a bit of music history (or the Cold War, for that matter) get in the way of a good show. Since there aren’t too many pieces out there that call for a percussion section to be augmented with howitzers, he added the piece to The Boston Pops’ Fourth of July line-up in the 1970’s. As the Boston Pops is the country’s premiere pops orchestra, many other bands and orchestras followed their lead. (For more history and discussion on this, here is a great article from Pittsburgh Post-Gazette)

Another reason might be that as a country, we just aren’t secure with ourselves yet, musically. Our musical tradition is not nearly as old or as deep as many of the other western powers. Austria’s Radetzky March was written in 1848, La Marseillaise of France is from 1792, and Great Britain’s Rule, Britannia! dates to 1740. Stars and Stripes Forever was premiered in 1896, and many of the other pieces that are so closely associated with America’s “classical” cannon are even more recent, as they are rooted in jazz, show tunes, or even movie music. To say that the US needs a deeper appreciation of its own classical contributions is a tall order, and one that I have already made, so I’ll go down the easier path and say that maybe time will work this one out. Perhaps in my older days I’ll see more 4th of July concerts where Rhapsody in Blue is the headliner.

The Twilight of the Small

Before she struck up her orchestra on their last piece of the season in the Strathmore Music Center, Marin Alsop made a little joke. “We thought we would end with something small” and then there was laughter from the audience. Anyone who had looked at the program and knew the basics of western musical history would pick up on the verbal irony of that line. The final piece was by Wagner, and nothing about Wagner is small. And of all things, this was an arrangement of highlights from The Ring of the Nibelungen – the Texas of musical pieces.

As I started listening to the piece I began thinking to myself “What is it about Wagner?” Countless people call him their favorite composer (There is a Wagner Appreciation Society in DC, FYI), and others will walk out of a concert that is featuring his music (I’ve actually heard of this happening). From everything I’ve heard he was an absolutely vile person – extremely anti-Semitic, he was obsessed with his own legacy and success, and unmercifully critical of pretty much anyone who didn’t see things his way. Ludwig II, Bavaria’s mad king, bankrupted his state to build an entire castle in Wagner’s honor. Wagner was unquestionably Hitler’s musical inspiration, and his music provided a soundtrack to the construction of his nefarious Third Reich. Love him or hate him, we just can’t get over this guy.

Maybe it’s because the music is just so big. Wagner wrote for massive orchestras and created walls of sound. He was one of the first composers to use tubas regularly, and went as far as creating his own instruments when he couldn’t find preexisting ones to get the sound he wanted. His operas were also incredibly long (Die Meistersinger is almost 5 hours long). It’s largely due to Wagner that opera is stereotyped as long and overly dramatic. Whenever you see a spoof of opera featuring an over-weight couple with braided hair and Viking horns singing at the top of their lungs, that’s Wagner. (Specifically, it’s The Ring of the Nibelungen). When you add all this to the huge, iconoclastic character of the composer, you have a result that is going to stick with people.

Maybe it’s because he was so technically good. Wagner is famous for popularizing the music concept of the leitmotif – a recurring musical theme that is attached to a character or thing. This was a huge breakthrough at the time, although it’s second nature today. Think of how much Star Wars would lose if you didn’t hear that dark, brassy march every time Darth Vader walked across the screen, or how much less powerful Lord of the Rings would be if you didn’t get those triumphant chords every time the hobbits made progress towards finding the ring. (As a side note, read the synopsis to The Ring of the Nibelungen… notice anything?) Pretty much any movie that’s worth its salt uses leitmotivs. These themes embedded in the music are one of the reasons that Wagner’s music works with his operas so well. The music seems to elicit visual images. Francis Ford Coppola knew how to use this to his advantage.

Finally, all of this comes together to create an almost outrageous sense of drama. (Case in point is tonight’s piece – Wagner needed a grand way to finish the series of four operas that formed The Ring of the Nibelungen, so at the end of the score you will find stage directions instructing you to light the opera house on fire. I’m not kidding). More than a composer, Wagner saw himself as a storyteller. He was acutely proud of his Germanic homeland, and used the very best of Central and Northern European folk tales to create the plots of his operas. In Wagner’s work you will find a huge helping of the most resounding themes of humanity; good and evil, love and hate, power and weakness, forgiveness, betrayal, loneliness, insanity, the longing for immortality. As humans, we just can’t get enough of this stuff - it’s just so big and so good. It strikes chords with our deepest emotions.

We’re going to be talking about Wagner for a long time to come.

Humanities and the Recession

The humanities have had a rough time lately. It seems that when hard economic times roll around, the humanities are the first lines to get shaved out of the budget. You have to wonder if, when times are better, those lines will be restored or increased in any capacity. This is a loss in more ways than one. Obviously, less money to the arts and humanities means fewer artistic creations and performances, which is regrettable, but what about the long term implications?

When I was much younger, I remember going to a concert of The Florida Philharmonic Orchestra, in my hometown of West Palm Beach. (Ironically, the Florida Phil has since gone under). This was shortly after the September 11th, 2001 attacks, and everyone in our great country was still very much in mourning. During the concert, the conductor addressed the audience and spoke of the place of the arts in times such as these. The conductor mentioned that, in times of war, some critics question the importance of the arts and say that they offer no solutions in the face of such serious matters. This comment was met with sounds of discomfort from the audience. The conductor went on to say that this sort of thinking should be challenged. There is a reason that the humanities are called such – they are what make us human. In times of national need and mourning, we need to get in touch with our humanity more than ever. Using the arts as a channel, we must get back in touch with our friends and our family, as well as ourselves. Now that we are in another crisis of an economic nature, I believe that this need of the humanities still stands.

I think this argument for the importance of the arts and humanities can even be taken a step father. Beyond the individual, there is a societal need for the humanities. One of the things that strikes and disturbs me most about this recession is that not too many people seemed to see it coming. A few economists and political advisors raised a red flag, but obviously not enough to really make a difference. That is alarming. All these economists and social scientists, and people with intellectual capacities off the charts, yet we, as a society, were not able to stop this or even predict it? So much for economic forecasting. Yet, when you look at the arts, they are often ahead of the curve. Authors like F. Scott Fitzgerald denounced materialism before the Great Depression gave us a tangible record of its damage. Stravinsky and his contemporaries foreshadowed the First World War by introducing a sense of chaos into music. Even Hollywood seemed to take up the fight against McCarthyism before Capitol Hill did. The arts have always had a prophetic power.

I am not saying that composers should replace economists, but I do believe that the predictive ability of the humanities holds a valuable place in our society. Instead of restricting the influence of the arts when times are tough, perhaps we should be looking to this influence for guidance.

Although pulling out a pocket book is only one of many ways to attack the problem of the diminishing significance of the humanities in our lives, I would be remiss if I didn't mention it. "Sometimes cutting back just isn't an option", one of the slogans of the BSO's recent funds drive, fits in rather nicely with the point's I'm presenting.