Saturday Matinee

New Media and the Arts: A Case Study

So this is what it’s like to be a sports fan.

In the past week or so, I’ve gotten hopelessly addicted to the Van Cliburn International Piano Competition that’s currently being live streamed over the internet. It’s every classical music/pianist dream (and new media person (Doug, I’m looking at you)) come true. Not only are all the performances live streamed as it happens, but the rehearsals are shown as well. It’s thrilling to get a glimpse of rehearsals, everything from the Van Cliburn finalist’s one-on-one rehearsal with conductor James Conlon going over the details of the piece, to the casual attire of the performers in glasses, to hearing unscripted and honest moments in the struggle between soloist and orchestra in coming together as one cohesive whole. It also has the added excitement of following your favorite performers in a reality-show setting sort of way with the excitement of a competition and the emotion-grabbing storyline of watching your favorites succeed or fail at every elimination. Perhaps a combination of American Idol and the Bachelor, if you will. In addition, it really gives a sense of how much work goes into putting a piece together and increases appreciation for the art form itself in addition to demystifying it. Isn’t this the goal of classical music these days in the MTV generation? And I’m amazed with the Takacs Quartet and James Conlon – they have the impossible task of putting together rehearsals and flawless performances with 6-12 different pianists in a unique competition setting.

This live stream is also for the newbie as well. They have an extensive “commentary” option where, as you’re watching, you can turn on comments that describe the piece you’re listening to. They point out the theme, the second theme, counterpoint, and the return back to the first theme with a different mood, or expansion on a theme. The points are concise and easy to understand and really relevant. I found it helpful for unfamiliar pieces. The level of options available in the live stream and archives are astounding.

It’s this sort of widely available accessibility that will draw fans in and get people excited about the art form and get classical music to shed its elitist shroud of better-than-thou obscurity. Like sports that I see everywhere, the Van Cliburn competition not only has it available to view online including archives of each performance (rehearsal footage was taken down, boo!) but quite a number of heated discussions on blogs that post everything from smart and funny reviews (another one here) to who danced on the dance floor, who performed with a broken toe, and what a competitor ate for dinner. It reminds me of the paparazzi that stalk celebrities, sports or not, like no other, and generates buzz for these performers as people. The classical music world could use a little bit of this.

Extending the sports metaphor further, my coworker suggested that I hold a “fantasy Cliburn” like they do for March Madness.

Granted, accessibility isn’t everything – point proven by the fact that I’m still not a baseball or football fan (although I have been known to attend an occasional Giants game). It also opens the door for criticism in the face of such transparency. On one hand, it’s exciting to see people so passionate about the art form. Yet commentors were brutal in discussing a tense moment between conductor James Conlon and Haochen Zhang, the youngest competitor in the Van Cliburn finals. Zhang was trying to convey to the conductor that someone thought the orchestra was too loud sometimes, and Conlon replied that the orchestra is an important factor too, and sometimes more important than the piano. (I do hope this isn’t the reason why the rehearsals aren’t currently being archived, because commentors talked endlessly about it). Conlon was a target of public criticism for his words because people thought he was being condescending to a musician so young. I disagree – I hardly doubt that Zhang is the only young soloist who works with an experienced conductor who hasn’t been guided in the same way and neither parties acted any less than with honorable professionalism. It was an honest moment and the tension between conductor and soloist SHOULD be there, as an equal meeting of two minds who come together to form a cohesive piece of music that requires both parts. Naturally, Zhang is worried about his status as a valid competitor and being heard, and Conlon is concerned about the work as a beautiful piece of music. Compromise and give-and-take and careful thought should be a natural part of the rehearsal process, and for me, it was a wonderful example of watching two very good musicians collaborating together.

And what better moments to watch the rehearsals than to watch an orchestra interact with a blind soloist who can’t see cues and downbeats? As Tsujii worked against both a sight and a language barrier, it was simply astounding to watch him pick up subtle cues such as breathing (!!!) and to pick up as the orchestra started to play without being told where he was.

This transparency will only serve the public and the music community in the long run. Controversy and discussion is a good thing for classical music. It gets people engaged and turned on, and it makes people listen more closely. For me, I was definitely watching for the balance between orchestra and piano in Zhang’s piece, and it was absolutely sublime.

As for my favorites – I haven’t listened to everything, but I’ve come to realize that this is not a competition about who’s the best piano player, but it’s a competition of the musician with a unique point of view, or as the judges kept on saying, a pianist who has “something to say”. My favorites are Tsujii’s preliminary round (esp the Chopin etudes) and his Chopin concerto (his Rachmaninoff concerto tomorrow is going to be very exciting), Zhang’s semifinal recital (especially the Chopin preludes) and Mariangela Vacatello’s Beethoven concerto. Di Wu’s Rach 3 tomorrow will be something to look forward to as well, in addition to Tsujii’s final round recital.

If you haven’t caught the competition so far, plug your computer into your largest speakers (as I am now) and listen. You’re listening to the future of music, and it’s an amazing and rare glimpse into the world of classical music. The competition goes until tomorrow, and the winners will be announced tomorrow.

Click here to watch and be amazed and form an opinion and share your opinion with others. Who are your favorites??

Just for the fun of it… here’s a clip of Tsujii’s semifinal recital of Beethoven’s monumental “Hammerklavier”. I’m a bit torn about this performance (I’m referring to the full piece, not this clip). He’s not the most refined player almost the point of distraction, but there an intangible quality that’s extremely moving and unforgettable. I hope this video clip captures some of that. Opinions?

UPDATE: I am so thrilled with the conclusion! No one captured my heart as much as Tsujii and Zhang, as much as I admired Vacatello’s spunky bright sound and Yeol Eum Son’s sparkly brilliance that never quite reached crystal clarity for me. I really hope this means that we’ll see way more of Tsujii and Zhang in the future. Tsujii also won the Best Performance of a New Work, which I’m assuming is referring to his Musto piece (he was the only performer to perform it in its dreamy haziness), and I’m definitely going to go back and listen to Yeol Eum Son’s chamber music piece. I also agree with Bozhanov’s marvelous Franck chamber music piece that he did with the Takacs Quartet, both for his bold choice in picking this difficult piece as well as its masterful delivery.

For those of you looking to donate to the Van Cliburn foundation, it’s too bad that you can only donate $75 or more. It’s a shame that the foundation is missing out on smaller donations. You can support the foundation however by buying recital CD’s and DVD’s that are available for purchase (recitals only, no concertos or chamber music available). Click here for the Cliburn store. Hopefully this will be enough to keep this webcast free in future competitions! What a fun journey it’s been.

Check out this video.

What do you think?

Now, what if I told you that he’s blind, since birth? He’s never read a note in his life (in the traditional sense, at least), and he has never seen the piano. Does that change your opinion of his playing?

Funny how the mind works. Bias is an invisible, elusive thing. I was flipping through some of the videos of the world famous Van Cliburn International Piano Competition which is amazingly live streamed across the internet. It’s incredibly addicting because the level of playing is so high and the intensity is palpable even through the internet. At a brief initial glance however, a lot of the competitors sounded the same to me. A huge part of this is no doubt due to the fact that I’m not listening live, but with the existing conditions, they all sounded really well studied, guarded, careful and precise. However, my ears perked up when I heard Nobuyuki Tsujii, the performer in the video above. He had the advantage of a fantastic beginning to the Chopin etudes, but his unique artistry stood out immediately. There was a warm flash to his playing layered with a well of sensitivity, a refreshing raw unfinished edge but real heart. A quick search on the Van Cliburn website led to his biography and information that he has been blind since birth. After acquiring that knowledge, I began to find his playing absolutely heartbreaking, even down to his practiced and awkwardly endearing bows. From my point of view, he isn’t technically the best player in the competition, yet I can’t help but to root for him.

Why is it that as audience members, we pore over artists’ biographies in the program? Their personal lives shouldn’t matter in the audience’s opinion of the artist and his or her art. Or does it, or more importantly, should it?

A friend of mine thinks it’s irrelevant that he’s blind, and pointed out that it would be more impressive if he played that way and he was deaf. True. He’s advanced to the semi finals, by the way. His semifinal chamber performance with the Takacs Quartet will be tomorrow afternoon if you want to tune in. I’m sending him the best of luck all the way over here from California.

I also listened to Stephen Beus who unfortunately didn’t advance to semi finals, but I liked the elegance in his playing.

Be sure to check out the live stream of the competition online, here. So worth it.

Who are your favorites, and who else should I check out? There are simply too many to listen to.

Update: my thoughts on the Van Cliburn finals.

Picking a program to attend can be a tricky thing. It’s usually a balance of who’s performing as well as what’s being performed (what other factors are there in a concert?). The San Francisco Symphony’s program on Friday night wasn’t particularly screaming my name, yet it proved to be a night of new revelations.

The evening was under the tight direction of Yan Pascal Tortelier, and his collaboration with the symphony proved to be a luminous one. In the opening selection of George Bizet’s Music from L’Arlesienne, the symphony almost sounded like a completely different orchestra. Tortelier took a rather cliched piece and brought out a range of ravishing colors. From its confident start to a transparent sound brimming with crisp, articulated details, the orchestra came alive under his direction. The result was captivating, with Tortelier visibly encouraging the orchestra and seemed to have music spilling out of his very being that he had memorized, directing without a score. 

Organ soloist Paul Jacobs

The Poulenc Organ Concerto in g minor followed, a piece unabashed in its innovation and dense ideas. The Poulenc showcases different facets of the instrument, including sounds that I’ve never thought the organ could do in my limited experience with this instrument. Poulenc seemed to play into the organ’s stereotypical sound of blaring dissonance sounding like the awesome angry voice of God, as well as openly flaunting its reputation by sounding like the flute or a stringed instrument in witty conversation with the orchestra. Soloist Paul Jacobs played with admirable authority, expertly commanding the complicated instrument. It was intriguing watching him at work, pulling out stops and watching his feet at work. I felt like I was discovering a completely new instrument, and a unique and even a little offbeat one at that. 

The second half of the concert featured works by British composer, Ralph Vaughan Williams, a composer not often featured other than his ubiquitous rendition of “Greensleeves”. The Lark Ascending is a beautiful yet simple symphonic poem, reminiscent of a leaf blowing with the wind over stark moors in its plaintive melodies. Violin soloist Nadya Tichman’s gently musical style was a lovely and perfect fit for this piece. Vaughan Williams’ Symphony No. 4 in f minor was an elegant mess of a piece. Even in its most chaotic moments that maneuvered deftly over different keys and offbeats, there was a sense of dignity. Maybe this is a stereotypical British quality, but it was a complicated, intriguing mess that begs for a second experience.

This concert reminded me that the San Francisco Symphony is one of the city’s most precious treasures. It brings in interesting soloists and interesting works and creates masterpieces out of them, even in the most overplayed pieces. And, most of all, I forgot at how fun a concert can be. This was definitely one of the most fun I’d had at the symphony in a while.

San Francisco Symphony’s website

Other links:

• sfmike’s amusing take
• SF Chronicle review
• Paul Jacobs trumpets passion for organ music

Regarding the relationship between his music and dance, at around 42:30. (Thankfully, they cut me out of the video but Page repeats my question.) His answer became a multi-minute freeform association about dance, but it was fascinating to hear his stories about dancers and his admiration for the art and artists. He talks about his first forays into writing music for dance, and I can’t get the image of a 42 year old Philip Glass struggling with dance combinations out of my head. The entire conversation with music critic Tim Page was very good. He talks about minimalism in music, his recent performance in San Francisco with his Music in 12 Parts, his past and future projects, and more. My favorite part is that he’s a little bit of a geek. His candor was endearing and his thoughts, admirable. What’s not to love??

My initial writeup of this conversation, and a photo I snuck in, here.

Friday night, I attended the San Francisco Symphony’s program in a performance I labeled as one of the most anticipated for 2009. In a completely sold out house, it was a rather hodgepodge program with pieces that were wildly different from each other. The draw for most of the audience was to see Martha Argerich perform in all her glory, including a friend of mine who had flown in from southern California just to see her perform. And perform gloriously she did.

To say that Argerich is a master of her craft is a gross understatement. I’ve heard Martha Argerich in her most startling and piercing (her Bach, for example). But this was more of a performance of quiet understated beauty, yet not without its dynamic contrasts. In a brilliantly whimsical Ravel’s Piano Concerto in G major, Argerich takes the audience on a gratifying journey that she knows very well. She showers us with flashes of sparkling wit and fire in the fast first and third movements, and lush watery colors and exquisite beauty in the second movement. In one section in the second movement, the piano weaves a hypnotic counterpoint to songs sung by woodwind solos, with a particularly lovely one by Russ deLuna on English horn. The piece was sensitively accompanied by the highly attuned San Francisco Symphony under the baton of Michael Tilson Thomas. Despite multiple curtain calls, Argerich looked genuinely apologetic by taking her leave without an encore. In all, it was a refreshing take of an artist at her peak, truly honoring the music rather than putting the spotlight on herself. Her performance is so satisfying with a soaring and complete narrative. She makes performing look so easy, I can’t help but to wonder why everyone can’t play like she does. I’m reminded at how rare a performance like hers is; she truly is a true master of her craft, unlike any other. This is why she is my favorite piano player.

The other most talked about piece on this program was Ligeti’s Requiem, featuring the San Francisco Symphony Chorus and conducted by director Ragnar Bohlin. Written in 1965, it is the type of modern music that usually makes me want to claw my eyes out – cacophanous, challenging, irritating, tedious. My friend who’s equally not used to modern music, claimed that the experience was like trying to eat razorblades through his ears. And yet. I found something extremely profound despite my certainty to not like it. There is an undeniable truth to a piece that encompasses the emotions of a true funeral song, with visions of mourning, pleading, and unspeakable grief, rather than the traditional requiems where the chorus sings valliantly of honorable prayers of faith. It starts out in a low rumble that’s more a vibration than a sound. Scary outbursts intersperse the song at merciless volumes, in a cacophany of screaming sopranos and general dissonance. The second “Kyrie” is an ascent of horror, with the third “De die judicii sequentia” dissolving into utter chaos, with extremes in both registers and volume. The first “Introitus” embodies a disturbing emotion of a cry of someone that’s been crying for days – still deep in grief, yet too exhausted for a cry. The effect is deeply haunting. 

The soloists for Ligeti’s Requiem, soprano Hannah Holgersson and mezzo-soprano Annika Hudak, sang with admirable commitment in parts that otherwise may veer into the arena of “very silly”. Perhaps not the best showcases for their voices, yet a praiseworthy performance nonetheless in difficult music.

The concert opened with an 16th century choral piece, Gabrieli’s In ecclesiis. A majority of the chorus filed in two single files down the side aisles, reminiscent of a scene in The Sound of Music where the Nazis infiltrate the theater to take away the Von Trapp family. The song was appropriately church-y, with the added excitement of being surrounded by the tossing of melodies from one side of the hall to the other. Standouts included the two tenor soloists, Joel Jay Baluyot and Thomas Busse, who sang with bell-like clarity. The concert ended with Liszt’s Tasso: Lamento e Trionfo. A standard of romanticism yet fairly nondescript from its romantic counterparts, this piece was at the very least, an excellent showcase for the symphony’s acoustic range and richness of sound and heart. 

San Francisco Symphony’s website

• Kosman’s review in the SF Chronicle
• San Francisco Classical Voice
• sfmike’s amusing take
• A series of haikus, inspired by Ligeti’s Requiem. Reverberate Hills
• Oboeinsight’s non-review
• Buy Martha Argerich’s CD of Ravel, along with Prokofiev’s Piano Concerto, here
• Ligeti’s Requiem, here

A video of Martha Argerich playing the third movement of the Ravel Piano Concerto.

What a treat! I went to an informal conversation with Philip Glass (led by Tim Page) and got to ask him a question. I told him that my first experience with his music was with Twyla Tharp’s “In the Upper Room”, and was wondering what he thought of seeing his music in dance form. He then started talking about his experience with dance in his lifetime for a while, starting with his days in Juilliard. His thinking was rather economical, as he thought, who will always need my music?  And his answer was, dancers and theaters will always need music. And so he wrote for dancers. He mentioned Jose Limon and Martha Graham at Juilliard, but he said he didn’t write for them, but for their students. He also mentioned that he would have liked to have been a dancer himself; he was in awe of using your body as the ultimate physical art form. The closest he got was he was touring with Lucinda Childs’ dance company and they allowed him to take ballet class with the dancers, at age 42. He jumped at the chance, much to the entertainment of the dancers. He said he was fine except for the combinations because his specialty was music memory, not muscle memory. This made everyone laugh.

It’s funny how sometimes we think artists do things to serve their art, but often the reasons are economical. He said he controls who accesses his scores because he makes his living performing his own music and doesn’t want others to rob him of his livelihood. 

There were other questions on his movie music, and lots of other talk on minimalism, classical music, and “ideology” in music but I need to get ready for the concert tonight.

Smuin Ballet dancers Erin Yarbrough-Stewart and Aaron Thayer performing the Romeo and Juliet pas de deux

On Sunday night, the Marin Symphony presented a performance that highlighted its season’s theme of symphonic music of dance by presenting a program of three ballets. Although very different, the unifying theme in the three presented pieces was the dramatically picturesque music that translates as appropriate music of a full-length ballet, with Tchaikovsky’s “Rococo Variations” being a bit of an exception (choreographed by Christopher Wheeldon last year as an abstract ballet for the New York City Ballet). But even with the Tchaikovsky, all three pieces painted colors in bright, lucid colors that made for a dramatic yet vibrant evening.

Cellist David Requiro Photo by Brian Hatton

Despite distracting hokey details from the title “Cello and Courtship” to the literal translation of the first piece, The Miraculous Mandarin Suite, with the donning of a Mandarin suit by conductor Alasdair Neale, it’s a relief that the priorities of this orchestra lies in its commanding presence and innovative soloists. I’ve been most impressed by the choice of soloists this symphony continues to pick for its programs. With pianist Orion Weiss at the first concert I saw (who made my Best of 2008 list) and Naumburg International Cello Award winner cellist David Requiro, the Marin Symphony has picked young yet wildly exciting musicians practically bursting with potential and surprise (in a good way). These two soloists have rightly intrigued and brought audiences to their feet with intelligence and most importantly, stellar musicianship. As the soloist for Tchaikovsky’s “Rococo Variations”, 23 year old cellist David Requiro played the graceful theme and variations with an airy ease and touches of whimsy. Displaying impressive command and imaginative thought, Requiro played with a refreshing directness, lack of waffling pretension, and beautifully long, never-ending phrasing. The soloist and the orchestra collaborated warmly, tossing the melody effortlessly from one to the other, emphasizing the intimate, chamber music-like heart of this piece with a quiet refinement. Requiro showed us that subtlety can speak the loudest of all, and his engaging performance was full of delight and a gentle humility appropriate to the playful loveliness of this piece.

More striking than their earlier performance, the Marin Symphony performed with a commanding presence, most likely contributed by the much loved conductor, Alasdair Neale, who coaxed the orchestra into a full, resonating sound and led with charm. The interpretations of these three pieces weren’t keenly original or unique, yet satisfying and appropriate to the demands of the music. The program opened with Bartok’s Suite from The Miraculous Mandarin, filled with unapologetic cacophany. Its lusty story was described by Neale before the piece began; although the story was hard to follow once the music started, the twists and turns of the music made for a speedy (albeit murky) ride. The “alluring” clarinet as Neale described wasn’t merely alluring without a taunting note of sarcasm, with danger in the short, staccato deep dissonant notes in the cellos. The piano is bright with a biting edge. The trombones make a strong showing with a technically difficult performance played with panache. The program ended with selections from the passionate yet unabashedly beautiful Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliet. The exultant Folk Dance comes to life with warm camaraderie. The visual highlight was the appearance of dancers from the Smuin Ballet, Aaron Thayer and Erin Yarbrough-Stewart, as Romeo and Juliet. Yarbrough-Stewart was a quintessential Juliet, a beautiful performer in portraying the young innocence of the character with a lovely completeness in her dancing that was mesmerizing. Thayer was an eager and ardent Romeo, with a slightly awkward gangliness that added to his boyish charm. With his height and long extensions, Thayer was most affected by the limited physical stage space; aside from a few slips, they danced admirably despite limited constraints. Although I’m still uncomfortable with the message that the music alone is not enough for a symphony concert, even I have to admit that the ballet dancers was a welcome addition that personified the swelling strains of Prokofiev’s music through dance. The concert ended with the Death of Tybalt, an appropriate death music for an arrogant antihero – an intro full of bravado ensued by a galloping chase, sudden interruptions, and a slow deliberate march that grows to alarming proportions, and ends in a bang. It was an impressive and appropriately dramatic end to this symphonic program.

There’s one more performance on Tuesday January 20, at 7:30 PM. Click here for more information. 

Other links:

• Kosman’s review on David Requiro’s recital
• Contra Costa Times’ interview with Requiro, Neale
• Pre-order his debut CD, here. 

And… I’m back! Apologies for the long absence, but I hope everyone had a great holiday like I did. I did a bit of shuttling back and forth from home (HOME home) and work, but it was all worth it and I managed to keep things up at work at the same time. Can everyone believe it’s already 2009?? It’s hard not to look ahead to the next year without being optimistic. But last year was a good one. On a personal and professional (i.e. non-blogging) level, 2008 was filled with a lot of frustration and struggle, but I ended up a much happier and stronger person. Last year was truly a year I can say that I really grew. That much strife is never fun, but if this year brings the same, I hope I’m ready for it! And what a great year this was for theater! Below are things that impressed me deeply. Let’s get on with it.

Biggest event of the year: San Francisco Ballet’s New Works Festival. Hands down, this event was probably the most widely written about event of the year. I attended opening night which was a blast being surrounded by critics I’ve read so much about. As advertised, it was an over-the-top, stupendous event that sent reverberations throughout the dance world, all of the world, with its 10 world premieres in three days by the greatest choreographers alive today. In another sense however, it was difficult to ignore a disappointment that no matter what, this festival could not live up to its hype. Crammed into three days, the pieces looked much more alive and urgently present when I saw the company later in the year, on tour. Despite the harriedness and the hype, the festival was simply awesome.

Best performance of the year: Yuan Yuan Tan and Tiit Helimet’s Giselle, especially the second act. Heartbreaking, heavenly, transporting, it was a performance that transcended this world. Tan and Helimets seemed to melt into each other, and it’s a performance I’ll never forget.

Yuan Yuan Tan and Tiit Helimets in Tomasson’s Giselle. © Erik Tomasson

Honorable mentions:

• Jared Angle and Yvonne Borree in Balanchine’s Duo Concertant
• the snap and crackle of San Francisco Symphony performing Bernstein’s West Side Story Suite 
• the generous spirit of Alvin Ailey’s Revelations
• Possohkov’s Sagalobeli as the dancers of the State Ballet of Georgia danced with deep heart and loyalty
• Peter Wyrick’s solo in Lindberg’s Seht die Sonne in a slightly technically unwieldy yet resonating outpour of song
• the intellectual yet hilarious and musically thoughtful Julia Adam’s A rose by any other name. 

Breakout stars of the year: two performers that unexpectedly floored me this year (which, as I see more and more great performers, is getting harder to do but these performers are phenomenal) – a tie between pianist Orion Weiss‘ vibrant rendition of Beethoven’s Fourth Concerto with the Marin Symphony, and Isaac Hernandez‘s explosive yet brief solo as the Russian in San Francisco Ballet’s Nutcracker who will be one to watch for the upcoming year.

A common theme for this year: the merging of science and art. From opera (John Adams’ Dr. Atomic), to ballet (Wayne McGregor’s Eden/Eden about cloning), and classical music (Turnage’s Three Asteroids) and even a choreographed piece of my own. None of these pieces were even created this year, but I’m slowly starting to see science’s influence emerge repeatedly in the arts.

Best non-ballet, non-classical musical event: Berkeley Rep’s Figaro. Yes, I realize my biases and preferences for ballet and classical music are clear, but there were other events that I thoroughly enjoyed as well, such as the genre-defying play at Berkeley Repertory Theatre, a company that continues to take risks and always presents something surprising, innovative, and relevant.

A special shoutout to: A great year for TV, especially PBS’ Great Performances. From the startingly poignant performance of Raul Esparza in the revival of Sondheim’s Company, to the magical broadcast of SF Ballet’s Nutcracker, to SF Symphony’s opening performance of Carnegie Hall’s season, I’m duly impressed with the arts that are made accessible to audiences all over the US.

Most popular blog entry: Sascha Radetsky’s Last Performance with ABT by FAR - either he’s the most googled ballet dancer or he’s googling himself a million times, with my review of San Francisco Ballet’s Nutcracker the next popular blog entry with so many people googling it during Nutcracker season that it broke the record on my blog for the most number of hits in one day.

Most anticipated events for 2009:

• Martha Argerich performs Ravel’s piano concerto with MTT and the San Francisco Symphony
• the entire 2009 season for San Francisco Ballet which is, believe it or not, better than last year’s (especially the full length Balanchine’s Jewels, Swan Lake, and an evening of Mark Morris) and let’s not forget to savor the final year for Tina LeBlanc with the SF Ballet
• Julia Adam’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream with Diablo Ballet.

Martha Argerich

My advice for 2009:

• Support theater!! Buy tickets, drag friends with you, comment and discuss what you see either on this blog or other blogs, and don’t forget about smaller, local companies that are struggling in this dismal, arts-unfriendly economy
• Do not buy pre-sale tickets for Wicked but wait it out until the hype dies down (and it will!).

What were your favorite performances for 2008? Anyone think I left something out?

Here’s to a year of innovative theater, unspeakly beautiful dance, and soul-touching music!

Riding high on a wave of international acclaim after the Beijing Olympics Opening Ceremony and being chosen as one of People Magazine‘s 2008 Sexiest Men Alive, pianist Lang Lang breezed into San Francisco last week in a versatile series of performances. Ranging from a solo piano recital, to Chopin’s Piano Concerto No. 1, Lang Lang ended the week with a chamber music concert with violinist Nadya Tichman and cellist Peter Wyrick. I caught his chamber music concert with San Francisco Symphony musicians on Sunday night at the Davies Symphony Hall.

Anyone who is even a little familiar with the classical music world knows fair well that despite sold out houses and household name status, Lang Lang is an easy target ridiculed by both the press and the public. With an over-the-top animated style where his hands fly a good two feet off of the piano and flourishes are common, he is admittedly really fun to watch but can catch the audience off guard as familiar piano pieces can sound unrecognizable peppered with aggressive personal stylings.  A critic from London’s Telegraph declares, “he needs a mentor to tell him to grow up and not be so silly” in an article titled, “Lang Lang: A bravura display of preening”. In a NY Times article, he is the poster child for an article titled, “When Histrionics Undermine the Music and the Pianist”. Out of the three concerts he put on (solo piano recital, concerto, or chamber music), the concerto is best suited to showcase Lang Lang’s brazen showmanship; the recital and chamber music require subtle transparency that Lang Lang isn’t well known for. But because I could only make the Sunday night concert, I was unexpectedly but pleasantly surprised when I found the chamber music setting to offset Lang Lang’s melodramatic style in an advantageous way.

Granted, Lang Lang is still most comfortable when left to his own devices and free will, but if forced to be a team player, Lang Lang can do it to an admirable degree. Tempo and volume were more controlled as he had to match the two other players, and his virtuosic technical abilities were able to shine through. Despite muddy pedaling at the beginning of the concert, at times Lang Lang seemed to fly when playing a shower of notes with clarity and lightness. As a group, Tichman, Wyrick, and Lang Lang made a unified trio because stylistically, all three are musicians that perform with stirring lyricism rather than being exact technicians. As a result, moments of true poetry emerged. However, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this concert was a tad under rehearsed with one too many technical fumbles and pitchy moments. Things never strayed into the precarious however and stayed solid all the way through. The concert opened with the sunny Schubert Trio No. 1 in B flat major, a world in which the music evolved seamlessly over time. The third movement Scherzo flit in and out of major and minor keys. The smokier Tchaikovsky Trio in A minor fit the character of this trio better as the players were able to let go a little and dig deeper into the drama and suspense of the music. But this freedom made Lang Lang sound like a different musician from the Schubert trio – more confident, more soloistic, and less careful. This confidence also affected the tempo of the piece, as moments in the first movement got faster and faster with the strings trying to keep up. The second movement was a theme and variations, a smorgasbord of segments strung together with breaks that gave it a disjointed yet monotonously repetitive feel without enough logic to fully engage. It still possessed the melodies that Tchaikovsky is famous for, including a moment where the piano sets the tempo with a funeral march-like strictness with the strings pulling the melody forward with heartrending emotion. The third movement ended on a typical Lang Lang way on a self indulgent note, where he drew out the quiet ending to an extreme to the point where the audience didn’t quite know when the piece was over as he dramatically held his hands over the piano for what seemed like minutes. Sounds of eyerolls echoed around the symphony hall – or maybe it was just in my own head.

The audience went crazy the entire concert, applauding after every single movement and even in between variations in the second movement of the Tchaikovsky trio. Whatever reservations I had seemed to be completely lost on the almost completely sold out house. Overall, the concert on Sunday night demonstrated the quality of professionalism of all three musicians, in spite of sufficient rehearsal time or not at the end of a busy week for Lang Lang in which he presented three different concerts in a very short period of time. Anyone who’s played in a chamber music group knows how difficult it is to be in such a transparent and collaborative environment. I still can’t help but to wonder if playing with Lang Lang is like playing with a bomb that might unpredictably go off at any minute, but the musicians kept it together and even managed to squeeze in moments of really great music. Violinist Nadya Tichman played with a lovely quiet solidarity and sensitivity. Cellist Peter Wyrick is a gem, performing with genuine heart and musicality pouring from every pore, showcasing the rich sounds of the cello to the highest degree. It was a unique setting that showcased individual talents more than I would ever see in a San Francisco Symphony concert and a great opportunity to see Lang Lang in a more collaborative and unique chamber music setting.

San Francisco Symphony

Other links:

• Kosman’s reviews in the SF Chronicle, of LL’s solo recital (“Lang Lang batters the piano“) and his concert with the SF Symphony (“Wigglesworth, Lang Lang a Hit at Symphony“). You can sense the polarizing effect LL has by reading the comments.
• You can pedal like Lang Lang with Lang Lang Adidas sneakers for a mere $125! He really is a marketing machine.
• Lang Lang: His Life So Far – NY Times by Tommasini

The YouTube Symphony Orchestra is holding open auditions! Backed by international classical music superstars, this ambitious competition is well underway. Thoughtfully set up with a novel online audition process (including PDF files to download Tan Dun’s score depending on your instrument), you upload a video of yourself playing the Tan Dun score (written specifically for this competition, preferably backed by the video of the full symphony accompaniment) and another video with the more standard audition fare. Open to amateurs and professionals, the best part is that if you win a spot, you get to play in Carnegie Hall under the baton of San Francisco Symphony’s Michael Tilson Thomas. You can also listen in on master classes given by members of the London Symphony Orchestra on how to play the Tan Dun score, and videos of Tan Dun describing his inspiration for the piece. And lots of celebrity interviews and their opinions about this novel idea – including Valery Gergiev and Lang Lang.

A coworker suggested playing each video (one of each instrument) on different computers all at the same time, to create a computer symphony made up of audition videos. That should really be the final performance. Carnegie Hall is much cooler though, of course.

What other creative events will the internet world bring? It’s fascinating how the arts are learning to incorporate the internet, and it’s the projects that embrace the open inclusive environment of the internet that seem to work the best. Although it’s still going to be difficult for amateurs, especially competing against all the professionals. For the flute part at least, the Dun score doesn’t look so bad but the second audition pieces are, especially for a flute player like me who hasn’t performed in almost ten years. It’s so tempting to audition but I will resist. Even if you don’t try out, you can crank up the symphony and play along to experience what it must be like to play with the London Symphony Orchestra. (Sort of.)

What’s next? The world’s first online dance company? That sounds like a project for the forward-thinking choreographer Merce Cunningham. Personally I would love to see Mark Morris choreograph for non dancers. His Snow in The Hard Nut looks like so much fun to dance.

Check out the YouTube Symphony Orchestra, here.