Mr Nicholas and I attended the next in our Mahler series last night (for the uninitiated: we made a pact a few years ago to see all the Mahler symphonies performed live, in chronological order). The programme was:
Samuel Barber - First Essay for Orchestra
Ludwig van Beethoven - Piano Concerto No. 3 (soloist: Llyr Williams)
Gustav Mahler - Symphony No. 5 (By this, you'll be able to tell that we're nearly half-way through our odyssey)
The orchestra was the Minnesota Orchestra conducted by Osmo Vanska.
The whole evening was superb, starting as we did with crepes and French cider at the South Kensington creperie (I had a bizarre cheesy-fishy concoction which was most pleasant. Nicholas had a sweet banana and chocolate one which looked gorgeous). Every item on the concert programme was exceptionally played, though never to the point where all the "danger" went out of the performance.
To digress, I think the "danger" is a key element of all live performance now, but particularly in the Classical sphere: a good concert should, as well as providing all the usual musical tension and release, should heighten this feeling through the knowledge that it could fall apart at any moment. All it would take is for the first trumpet or the timpanist to have spent too long in the pub and it could all go wrong. Obviously, common sense tells you these are professionals and even if there was the odd slip, it wouldn't be fatal. But on the rare occasions I have seen an orchestra playing something they have had in their repertoire for the past few months, and are obviously supremely competent at playing, the pervading feeling is one of blandness, and you can almost feel the (relative) disinterestedness from the orchestra.
Anyway, back on topic. Two things struck me most of all last night. The first was during the Beethoven. Llyr WIlliams gave an exceptional performance, especially given that he was a last-minute replacement for Dawn Upshaw singing the UK Premiere of new songs by Golijov, (It was nice to see the pleasantly rowdy group of "prommers" welcome him to the Albert Hall in Welsh). However, Williams did do quite a lot of "emoting" over the piano. I remember the last concert I was at, we saw Lang Lang play Mozart's Piano Concerto no.21 (I think...), and he too did an awful lot of "emoting". What I mean by this is a lot of swoops, swaying, leering and gurning over the piano while throwing yourself passionately into the music. I guess it would be called showmanship.
I don't have a problem with this, except that at times it can prove rather distracting and, particularly in Lang Lang's case, seems rather inappropriate for the relative restraint of the Mozart. On the subject of Wolfgang, I believe he was said to have strongly disapproved of performers who "emoted" during a performance, on one occasion commenting that it lookked like the performer was in the throes of a fit. I think in modern times, no-one could really expect a performer to sit rigidly upright at the piano, but I think in terms of "showmanship", less is definitely better.
I have waffled quite a bit, but I just wanted to touch on the orchestra. One thing you do tend to notice is that American orcehstras play with a very lush tone. I appreciate that virtually everything on the programme last night demanded this, but there was a real feeling of broadness, of richness in the orchestra. Of course, it was the Americans who pioneered the larger bore brass instruments we have now and which are standard in most (non-period) orchestras (sometimes to the detriment of the performance - there was very little difference in timbre between the French Horns and the Trombones last night, which was a little confusing at times). But I don't mean to gripe (I wouldn't give up my large-bore Conn 88H for anything). The thing that struck me was the supreme confidence that excuded from all the players.
A case in point: Mahler is quite clear in his instructions about when he wants the bells of brass and woodwind instruments to be raised, and the orchestra followed it to the letter, with the Clarinets at one point looking like they were trying to launch things into the audience. In one of the solo trombone passages, I thought the trombonist was actually going to play vertically upwards. But actually, he played at the perfect angle to project into the hall, as did the Clarinets, the Horns, and the other instruments following this particular instruction.
The sheer confidence, the swagger of these players was fantastic to see - you got the feeling this was a happy orchestra, supremely capable and enjoying themselves while playing (which is actually a surprisingly rare sight). Possibly this comes from the greater investment in and affluence of American orchestras in comparison to their European couterparts. Whatever the contributing factors however, it works.
It's interesting isn't it? I crticised the soloist for his excessive showmanship, yet am praising the orchestra for theirs. It's not quite inconsistent however - the orchestral showmanship does originate from instructions on the page, whereas the soloist was bringing his own personality to bear on the performance.
But anyway, these are just a few small things that occured to me during a rather excellent concert, and evening as a whole.
12 comments:
What instrument does a timpanist play? My knowledge of classical instrumentation doesn’t extend far beyond playing '3 old ladies are stuck in a lavatory' on the violin at age 10.
A timpanist plays timpani / kettle drums. Think Animal from the Muppets...
Ah, I did hear the very end of this on Radio 3 last night. And I suspected that you and Nick would be contributing to the appreciative clapping and cheering at the end!
Looks like you're not going to take so long to complete the oddyssey after all....
I dunno, three years down the line and we're getting to the tricky stuff - finding performances of "Das Lied von der Erde" and numbers 8-10 will be like tyring to find gold dust...
And...err...not much of the clapping as we had to leg it straight off...
I would like to add the following:
1) I can confirm that I was treated to a near-huge outpouring on the exact working of the second valve mechanism on a bass trombone, and that Dave was on this occasion foxed by one of the trombonists' instruments ("I'll ave to look that one up").
2) You can't hear the gurning.
3) Who are the people who shout things out? Are they a group of friends or are they in some sort of society for having a good hearty laugh at cultural events?
Example: the piano is being prepared for the next piece, and as the two gentlemen lift the piano's lid a group at the front of the arena shout "Heave!" and then a group at the back shout "Ho!". All good fun but where do these people come from, and how are they organised? It's a mystery. I they were probably members of the Oxford Revue in 1971. It's a kind of old-fashioned humour, lacking the modern requisite qualities of irony/sarcasm, that I thought only existed on some of the more embarassing Radio 4 comedy shows. I suppose that's what life's like for the Proms regulars who probably live in those nice Kensington houses just down the road. ("Oh good, it's 'Quote Unquote'," you can hear them saying at 6.30 on a Tuesday.)
4) It was a delicious crêpe.
Point 3 in particular is exquisitely made, except for one small fault...not even the most committed (or certifiable) radio 4 listener would say "Oh good, it's 'Quote Unquote'" pass their lips. That's just the realm of fantasy...
Oh, and in regard to point 1), thanks to some expert advice from Richiboy, expect something coming blogwards soon...
Dave I liked how you detected your own potential for inconsistency. Although of course the ensuing explanation revealed that in fact there was consistency in your desire to see performers performing according to the dictates of the composer. What I found interesting, perhaps actually just a reflection of the innate perversity in my nature, was this traditionalist streak coming through, because surely part of the potential for old things to continue being regarded as interesting relies on a certain new-ness of interpretation. Now I can perfectly understand how "showmanship" could be perceived as irritating, in the sense that it may come across more as personally indulgent than an intersting new "emotional" interpretation of the old Wolfgang. But slightly diverging from instructions surely creates:
a) the potential for danger - oooooh (tense nail-biting) he may just go too far.....fall off his seat for example;
b) the potential for an interesting interpretation that casts a whole new light on a piece we thought we knew inside out, or indeed provokes a whole array of new emotions to arise in the breast of the audience, or perhaps a 'ah, well yes, that's intriguing, the effect created by that minor interpretive alteration' in the mind of an Open University Theory of Music studying member of the audience ;-)
I must say Nicholas I do like your penchant for lists! And also - again playing the role of devil's advocate that springs from my innate perversity - why do the shouty out people need to have organised themselves? Couldn't it be a spontaneous? And it seems to me so British to feel mildly embarrassed that humour should come parcelled irony-free, I mean, isn't it ace to see people having fun in a silly I'm-not-trying-to-be-cool-and-superior-with-my-irony-implying-that-I-probably-know-better-than-whoever-it-is-doing-whatever-it-is kind of a way?
Oh, that was meant to be 'a spontaneous outpouring of ....something' but i didn't get so far as to illicit exactly what was supposed to be poured out as my mind was racing on to the next point.
I think, in this case, they had to be organised, that coudn't happen spontaneously .. not one but two different groups acting in perfect unison, calling out the same word at at the appropriate time? But I agree with your hypenated sentence. It reminds me of a quote from Bridget Jones where she's talking about why young people don't seem to go in for V.E. day celebraions and the like: It would all seem embarassingly enthusiastic, and all wrong, somehow, suggesting a positive approach to life.
Nick!! You just quoted Bridget Jones! You never fail to surprise me!!!
I'm glad you picked out the underlying consistency in my inconsistency too Lise...you are right, I have a strong traditionalist streak in some cases.
I'm intrigued by your case for the defence of showmanship:
point a) I can't really counter this point...if s/he fell off his stool it would be simultaneously hilarious and devastating as it would ruion the entire concert, and is therefore consistent with my desire for the frisson of excitement in performance.
point b) however, shall be addressed in my next post.
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