Bach & Goldberg’s Klezmer Band

Listening: Goldberg Variations, Chopin Eb Nocturne Opus 9 No. 2, Italian Klezmer, Radiohead “Hail to the Thief.”

Now that I’m back from Italy, recovered from jet lag, and having finished with the first week of classes, I’m starting to practice again–and with no time to spare. I’ll be playing the Goldberg Variations several times this semester. One concert will be traditional (although with student presentations) and the other times will, hopefully, feature poetry, dance, and electroacoustic composition. I’ve been telling people I want to get Bach out of the museum. Since moving in more of a postmodern direction (away from the absolutes of modernism and the idea of music existing outside of culture), I’ve found that classical music comes back even richer and more wonderful. And that is certainly the case with these variations.I’m also enjoying Klezmer in all its various permutations these days. I brought back a CD of an Italian Klezmer band and it is a blast. I wonder sometimes what draws us to certain musics. For me, I seem to gravitate towards music with passion, like Klezmer or Bach. Not surprisingly, I’m finding the same experience with art. At the Uffizzi gallery in Florence, I certainly enjoyed the Roman sculptures and painting from the Middle Ages and enjoyed making the connection to what was happening in music at the same time. But it wasn’t until I got to the last room that I was swept away. The painter was Caravaggio (along with works by his students). I was taken by the emotion in each painting, gutsy, earthy, emotional, messy. He was the Monteverdi of image.Anyway, I’ve decided to blog regularly. Last week I congratulated my colleague Scott Erb on his consistency with his blog and asked him how he did it. Scott explained that it was not only a way to reflect on the various periods in his life, but also something he can leave to his children as insight into their father’s thoughts and ideas through a period of time. Anyway, I was moved and motivated by his reasoning and decided to follow his example for Alex and Luke. Let’s see now if I blog before April!

Further Thoughts on Ives, Scriabin, and Janacek

Playlist:

Scriabin 5th Sonata, Ives Three Page; Janacek From the Streets; Jamie Lidell Multiplicity; Ken M’s compositions; Electro-Acoustic class student compositions; Monteverdi Vespers; Beethoven First Symphony (mov’t 3); Beethoven Opus 111; Amina Blaskjar; Aphex Twin Digeridoo.Would Scriabin’s musical-mystical universe have remained untouched by the devastation of WWI? Goodnightlight raises this issue in his 2.12 Blog posting. “Perhaps it [Scriabin's mysticism] could not exist so strongly after WWI. WWI seems to express a loss of innocence to a certain extent.” Had Scriabin avoided the freak blood poisoning that took him in 1915, how would his music and mystic beliefs evolved? Would the war have darkened his brilliant universe? Musically, Scriabin ultimately might have reached some type of atonal language; although it’s difficult to see him embracing the mathematics of Serialism. France would have likely held a stronger kinship given priority of color and sensuality. Who knows, Scriabin’s universe might have paralleled Messiaen–another mystical composer (although more rooted in Catholicism). This line of thought has revived my interest in playing one of the later sonatas. The 6th, I believe, freaked Scriabin out to the point where he wouldn’t play the thing. There’s an excellent article by Koji Attwood on the Piano Society site which covers Scriabin’s works. Here’s an excerpt on the 6th Sonata:

[Scriabin described the work in terms such as] “nightmarish…fuliginous…murky…dark and hidden…unclean…mischievous.” Indications in the score take on lavish and bizarre proportions; phrases such as “mysteriously whispering”, “the dream takes shape”, and “the surging terror mixes with the delirious dance” charge the score with strong programmatic overtones. “When he [Scriabin] played excerpts for friends, he would stare off in the distance away from the piano, as if watching effluvium rise from the floor and walls around him. He seemed frightened and sometimes shuddered. Its mood directly inherits the inchoate, incomprehensible, unformed chaos of the dark beginning—the Void.

Hmmm. I’m getting interested in the work. I have new music to upload to my iPod.Nightlight writes on the Three Page Sonata, “when Ives refers to his work as a joke, I wonder if his “joke” is in the mockery of the styles of his contemporaries.” I agree. Interestingly, his mocking creates sounds which are, at times, quite serious and moving. I find Ives’ humor, well, compelling. (Compelling humor?) As I stated in an earlier post, I really like this work because of its surprising depth. As NL writes, Ives “removes the pretension for the music’. Unlike the Stravinsky Ragtime music I played a few years back–which takes its humor quite seriously–Ives is more honest, earthy, and human.JPizzi gets to a similar place, ” it stumps me as to why i like it [Ives] so much, it seems so raw to the ears that it is hard to dislike its honesty [italics mine]… when i listend to it i thought of it as a progression of exposing, developing, or unfolding an idea that has challenged the artist… if this makes any sense at all… im still working on it.. but really ives really caught me off guard…” I was really surprised that Scott, the political scientist (Scott’s Blog) liked the Ives over the Janacek. I guess it says a great deal about the power of aesthetic–in spite of understanding the program of the Janacek with an insight deeper than most of us, he likes the ’sound’ of the Ives and that’s what really matters in music.Ken (Iswicketfatalreadytaken–and I like the name Ken, you should keep it) addresses the commonality of the minor third between the Ives, Janacek and Scriabin. I think there is more here than coincidence. No, a direct influence would have been impossible; however, all three composers were employing a chromatic language. Whether it be for expression (Janacek), or the searching the borders of tonality (Ives and Scriabin), each composer found the minor third a useful device. Ives picks it up thanks to the B.A.C.H, Janacek for it’s tragic quality and Scriabin for its mystical qualities (Okay, I’m getting far out here, but it’s late at night!)Ken also raises the ties between the three works and the anarchist movement of the same time. (We touched on this in class today as well.) He writes:

I can see how all of these hold some sort of aspect of anarchy in them. Ives’ because of it’s form (the anti-sonata). Janacek’s because of it’s intent of bringing to light horrible events that could have been avoided had there perhaps been better understanding of the need for education. And Scriabin’s because of not only the form, but also the seemingly un-orthadox religion that inspired it. 

In the broader sense of anarchy as anti-establishment (and staying within the composers’ musical–not political–expression) I think Ives comes closest with, as Ken points out, his ‘anti sonata’. Scriabin is about getting humanity to a greater connection with the universe and seems too hopeful for anarchy.The other work we studied so far this semester is Strauss’s “Death and Transfiguration”. Adam (Interdisciplinary 277) provides an insightful reaction (or interaction) with his listening of the work. One thing that gave me pause though, he writes that he didn’t ‘catch’ certain moments in the music–such as the death of the artist. This makes me wonder whether the presence of a program, while providing the listener with a direct connection to interpretation, also weakens music’s abstract powers. When I listen to Death and Transfiguration, I tune into only the most general aspects of the story. I hear the suffering, the nostalgia of happy memories, and the transfiguration. (I miss the moment of death too, Adam). Maybe this is about pedagogy: As we discussed in class when comparing music, art, and literature, music ‘goes where words cannot’ (Wagner). I’m not becoming an absolutist, but maybe–just maybe–overstressing the neato quality of a ‘program’ can diminish the emotional connection of abstract sound.Meg and I will be video taping our program next week. After taking a few days off, I started practicing again and have been enjoying these works as wine that has been allowed to breathe. Boy, I’d love to play the program someplace now! Next time I’m going to get the repertoire ready earlier–much earlier–and have several venues.

The Day After

There’s nothing like the feeling of having just performed. Last night’s concert went really well. It was a program of three sonatas written 100 years ago: Janacek “From the Streets,” Ives “Three Page Sonata,” and Scriabin’s Fifth Sonata. Interspersed between each sonata was a presentation by one of our excellent music students. She did an outstanding job and gave further proof that undergraduate research/public presentation is an invaluable part of learning. The next set of students presenting will be the Advanced Music Seminar class at a pre-concert lecture before the choir’s performance of the Monteverdi 1610 Vespers. Next year I’d like to see if I can extend this type of public presentation to more general students.

So how do I feel about the works I just played? The surprise is Ives. I was a bit leery at first. Ives is always difficult and usually halfway through I wonder whether it’s worth the effort–I could, after all, use the time to learn three Mozart sonatas or one big Beethoven! But something interesting happened. The piece began to grow on me. Outside of concern over memory (understandable given the newness of the work), I enjoyed learning and performing the piece. Part of it was Ives’ own re-working of his music. There are always many versions of Ives’ works and, in a sense, the performer has a greater choice of what to play. I like this–particularly today when we’re rediscovering the importance of the performer. This, plus the Ives’ deliberate attempt to NOT develop any ideas (they merely circle around now and again) give it a post-modern feel–something my colleague in art history, Sarah, observed when I played and discussed the work in class. So, will I tackle the great Concord Sonata? No, I’m not that nuts.

The Janacek continues to be a work I play very well. Somehow this work has always been close to my heart. And while I’m always moved by its program (the sonata is a memorial for a worker killed during a demonstration for a Czech university), there’s something deeper that gets me. I realize I am the type of player that does well with passionate pieces that lean on structure and emotion for dramatic tension and not, say, Lisztian virtuosity.

And then there’s Scriabin. I struggled with the work–even more (maybe) than I did when I played it for a faculty forum last year. Part of it was that I was tired and the format of the concert didn’t help my focus. Unlike Vers la Flamme, which I played a few years back, the 5th Sonata is needs fleetness and the ability to, well, scamper. It’s not Prokofiev–a composer I feel more at home with. And while I was able to get the right sound, I’m not yet comfortable with the style. Might need to come back to the piece yet again.

And so, that’s my concert review. Next up is Beethoven’s Opus 111. Yikes. I want to learn it now so I can take it into my later years . It’ll also be fun to incorporate it into the Beethoven course I’m teaching this semester. I might also resurrect some old friends like Waldstein, Appassionata, or Opus 81a although Lily has pleaded with me NOT to subject her to hearing these old war horses.

Longer range, the Goldberg Variations (with music thank you) is an ambitious project for when I teach a Bach course in Spring 2007.

Getting Ready for the Recital This Week’s Playlis…

Getting Ready for the Recital

Playlist:
Ives 3 Page Sonata, Scriabin 5th Sonata, Janacek Sonata “From the Streets” Cage “Williams Mix,” Mozart Piano Concerto K.488.

I promised my classes (who are blogging) and myself that I’d return to blogging this week. Most of my musical work has been preparing a solo recital for February 10th (2 weeks from this post). I’ve been getting some serious hours in which always feels good–no guilt. It’s an interesting program: three piano sonatas written more-or-less a century ago. From the playlist above it includes the Janacek, Scriabin, and Ives.

I really love all three pieces and it’s good to be in shape again. I am struck at how motivation for practice really only seems to happen when there’s the pressure of a performance. Back to the music: one thing that’s a bit odd about this concert is that there is nothing by Debussy and Ravel, both very active during this period. I am actually enjoying their absence–not because I don’t treasure their music, but because I’m playing equally great music which is, simply, less heard.

I played the works for my wife tonight and the Ives and Janacek went well. I’m going to use music for the Ives. I probably could memorize it, but it’s getting too close. The Scriabin was messy. The memory hasn’t set yet and so I was all over the place. I was also tired. Tomorrow is dedicated to practice, I’m going to start with the Scriabin and see if I can get it faster and lighter. Compared to Prokofiev, who opts for a more percussive sound, I find playing Scriabin requires a fleetness. The last stage of preparation always seems to be lightening up.

That’s all for now.

Oh, one more thing: Happy 250th Wolfgang.

Mozart K330 2nd Movement

The following is a description of the 2nd movement of Mozart’s K330 (First 16 measures) by MUS 106, section 3.

Class Description:

The tempo of the selection is slow and flowing. While generally happy in mood, there is some darkness on some chords. While consonant, there are lingering moments of dissonance creating a tension in the middle of the piece that gets resolved by the end. Has a regal feel, although quiet, evoking the 18th century. The piece is tonal, based on a harmonic hierarchy which gives a predictable resolution at the end of the section.

Steve’s Playlist

Here’s where I keep track of my listening, both weekly and for each Blog entry.
Playlist: September 22:

1. Pelican: Last Day of Winter (Borrowed, not copied)
2. Monteverdi: Vespers of 1610 (Conducting in Rehearsal)
3. Ives: Three Page Sonata (Currently learning on piano)
4. Busoni: Elegy (Currently learning on piano)

Reasons for this Blog

Writing about music is terrifically important. I think this is just as true for the professional musician as it is for the beginner. Although people have always written about music, much was left to professionals until recently. Post modernism (another Blog entry!) and the advent of the Internet with its Blogs, websites, and Wikis, has helped us rediscover our authority to write about music. And it’s about time.

But back to my Blog. I have started it for several reasons. First, if I believe writing about music is important, I ought to do so myself. Secondly, I have asked my college students to write their own music Blogs and this seems like a great opportunity to work alongside them. (Note to students: while you may get ideas here, this Blog ain’t definitive, it’s simply my expression–seek your own voice.) Lastly, I have a charmed, musical life at UMF. I am not only able to teach what I love, music history, but I am also able to integrate history with my work as a pianist and conductor. Even more, the college setting is ideal to work with students and colleagues making connections between music and other disciplines. But it all goes by so fast. For example, over the past three days I have taught a class on John Cage (Monday afternoon), conducted a Monteverdi Vespers movement (Monday evening), taught Rossin’s Barber of Seville on (Tuesday), participated as a student in a colleague’s class on James Joyce (Wednesday morning), talked with students about their projects, from Mozart to Minimalism (Wednesday afternoon), and left the office clutching a CD of the Metal group Pelican, given to me by one of my students. And tomorrow morning I start practicing Ives’s Three Page Sonata.

Like my students, I too need time to reflect on music and let the sounds and ideas hang around long enough so they have a chance to sink in. I guess I’m writing this Blog as much for myself as my students.

And so it begins.