Critic’s Notebook: The Quinteto Astor Piazzolla in Vienna

A. Piazzolla, "The Late Masterpieces", Quinteto Tango Nuevo (American Clavé, 3CDs, 1993) US | UK | DE

A. Piazzolla, "Mi Buenos Aires Querido", Barenboim, Mederors, Console (Warner, 1996) US | UK | DE

Piazzolla by the Book

Music to fall in love with – but also a distinct lack of flair – characterized the Quinteto Astor Piazzolla's appearance

The first time you hear Astor Piazzolla's music – perhaps from recordings with his New Tango Quintet like "Tango: Zero Hour" or "Live in Wien" – you don't forget that moment easily. The music imprints itself, opens worlds, becomes shorthand for "Argentina" and everything one associates with it. No wonder, then, that the Konzerthaus was packed for the Quinteto Astor Piazzolla on Sunday evening. After all, the ensemble, founded six years after Piazzolla's death, claims to "reproduce the old master's music as he would sound today." And what exactly does that sound like?

Without much ado, the five marched onto the stage of the Großer Saal, punctual, all in their tango-civil-servant uniform: Prussian blue suits, light blue shirts, steel blue ties. Without beating around the bush, lickety-split, one terrific Piazzolla piece after another was reeled off with surprising mechanical precision – working from Unknown to Known ("Oblivion", "Libertango"). Was this Argentine understatement? No trace of communication at first; only after "Contrabajísimo" (with a wobbly double bass solo) were the members' names mumbled through, then it was briskly onward.

The electric guitar got somewhat lost in the quintet. The piano was the driving force and occasionally a bit muddy. The violin mostly drew attention only through its characteristic rasp. The bandoneon dominated. All told, everything remained somewhat pallid. Was it supposed to sound like this? Not that there wasn't some steam generated here and there – but it dissipated immediately. Was it the too-large room? The audience even, which though enthusiastic, listened very well-behaved and politely? Still: one cannot not let oneself be thrilled by this music.

Critic’s Notebook: Evgeny Titov’s New Wozzeck in Graz

A. Berg, Wozzeck, Dohnanyi, WPh Silja, Waechter et al. (Decca, 1981) US | UK | DE

H. Berlioz, Les Troyens, Böhm, Deutsche Oper Berlin Lear, Fischer-Dieskau et al. (DG, 1965) US | UK | DE

The Naked Truth About Graz’s Wozzeck

Every aspect of the new Wozzeck in Graz is better than average. Even if (with one exception) nothing is quite superlative, the result is an enormously successful evening.

Is it actually possible to ruin Alban Berg’s Wozzeck? Musically, it may be “difficult” fare for the more occasional opera-goer, but the drama is so goshdarn concentrated and Berg’s setting so atmospheric that one often feels closer to witnessing spoken theater with music than an opera proper. That was certainly the case in Graz, where Evgeny Titov’s new production – the same director responsible for the dark-romantic Vienna Iolanta – opened to deserved applause on Friday evening.

Anyone who saw said Iolanta, with its sugar-coated mountain of flowers, can imagine Titov’s Wozzeck as its inversion. The “Upside Down” (cf. Stranger Things), so to speak. Low dunes of sand where yonder a green knoll rises high. Arid, wispy brown brambles instead of flowers blooming in technicolor, gloom instead of brightness. This natural landscape rotates – sometimes faster, sometimes slower – on the revolving stage. Behind it, occasionally kitschy, occasionally strikingly effective, projections: a blood moon, a forest (turning in perspective with the stage), ominous clouds. Titov plays – consciously or not – with dark kitsch and realism, kept in productive tension.

The costumes (Sebastian Alphons) move in a similar direction. The protagonist, thrown butt naked into the first act (dramaturgically unnecessary, though undeniably efficient in underscoring Wozzeck’s humiliation at the hands of his superiors), wanders about in a shabby blazer and socks, while the figures around him appear in black latex costumes, grotesque and abstract, ghoulishly made up so that they faintly resemble figures from a George Grosz drawing. The latter appears to be a popular device for visualizing Büchner; the wildly outstanding productions by Kriegenburg (Munich) and Andreas Homoki (Zurich) went in a roughly similar direction. Does one need a mute black angel silently overseeing the action? Probably not. It’s directorial bric-a-brac – tasteful enough, and not much of a distraction –but bric-a-brac nonetheless.

For all its dramatic and visual appeal, a Wozzeck still wants be sung and played – and here, too, Graz delivered handsomely. First and foremost, with the Wozzeck himself. Unexpectedly, perhaps: Daniel Schmutzhard. A perennial Papageno elsewhere, here unmistakably tragic on a smaller, more human scale – and all the more touching for it. That he does not possess the most powerful voice proves dramaturgically apt; one might even bemoan the fact (not seriously, though) that his voice proved almost too beautiful! Annette Dasch, by contrast, could not be accused of too much beauty at this stage in her career: her Marie occasionally sounded strained, slightly worn – but again entirely in keeping with the character (a spent, run-down prostitute), and dramatically persuasive throughout.

The vocal high point (in more ways than one), and perhaps the evening’s most gratifying surprise, was Thomas Ebenstein’s Captain: penetrating, incisive, clear, and more secure in the upper register than is often the case in this role. A pleasure to hear… if only he weren’t such a scoundrel. (The Captain, not Ebenstein.)

The orchestra did itself proud, too. Properly brutal when needed, and mostly precise; a few off-moments in the interludes were the exception rather than the rule. This came as little surprise, given how impressively Les Troyens had fared in Graz under Vassilis Christopoulos. Could it have sounded even rounder from the pit? More lush? Sure thing. But Wozzeck does not necessarily benefit from polish for polish’s sake. An impressive overall package then, this Graz Wozzeck.

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[Pictures to follow]

How To Build A Top Quality Classical Music Library For $100 (Part 1)

Introduction

The Why, How, and What

This is a reposting (edited and expanded) of an article that George A. Pieler and I wrote for Forbes.com, back in March of 2013 and picks off from these musings: How To Build A Top Quality Classical Music Library For $100 (Prelude), where you can read all about the idea behind the idea. I am re-posting and editing the articles to makes sure they don’t disappear, to give them the formatting they were meant to have, and as a tribute to George. Also, the articles are behind a paywall in the US, I just found out – so now they are out in the open again, where they belong.

Almost 13 years ago, George A. Pieler and I wrote a column (Two Cents About Classical Music For $100) for Forbes.com on some of the market- and technology-changes that affect this still growing, more-important-than-you-think niche in 21st century entertainment: classical music. The idea of building a classical music starter kit for $100 means we have to define price in an age where the very media of music consumption are in a permanent state of change. It also raises the question of what ownership of digital files actually means. We tackle some of these questions in upcoming columns [Ed. we didn’t], but first we present “the list”. (Incidentally, the Forbes article is itself based on the ionarts-response to Tyler Cowen’s article in 2011, which was promptly criticized for being too cello-heavy.)

[The entire list on Amazon can be found here.]

First, let’s talk about what “Classical Music for $100” is not: It is not a historical survey. It is certainly not meant to be representative of (Western) classical music – the very attempt would be absurd for a genre that spans at least 600 years (and counting). It is not a list of what is or should be considered “great” in classical music, nor just a list of classic recordings. We may overlap with all of these criteria in some parts, but our goal was simply (not so simple, as it turns out) this: “Bait!”. To create a list – within the confines of $100 (measured, old fashioned style, by CD*) – that is most likely to convert the uninitiated, intrigue the newcomer, and still delight the veteran. If you spend your first hundred bucks on classical music this way (or consume this list on Spotify), our rationale goes, you’ll find something—plenty—that will hook you and keep you coming back for more. In which case we’ll happily supply more lists to aid the discovery.

(*Cost was measured as-per-Amazon-pricing-averages at the times and iTunes cost. As recordings (or these iterations thereof) wander in and out of print, these can fluctuate wildly. I have updated the Amazon links below – but not necessarily the cover images – to reflect the most readily available iterations of these recordings.)

If one album alone could do the trick, we would have chosen just one. That’s not likely, though, since every newcomer responds to different stimuli. A one-size-fits-all list is a bit like handing out the “ten best medications” to prospective patients, sight unseen. But between classical disc-jockeying, slaving at Tower Records (The Tower That Fell), writing for classical radio stations, and emulating a classical music critic, we have channeled our experience to come up with a generic model-listener who has appreciation written all over him or her (enough to have read on thus far, certainly), but relatively little previous exposure. (And if you’re a veteran but this sounds like someone you know, why not share this list with them!?)

With that in mind we set ourselves a few rules. The first is adopted from Tyler Cowen who gave us the idea: “Never buy an inferior recording simply because it is cheaper. In the long run it is more expensive.”

True, it’s hard to tell what inferior (or “best”) really means in a market saturated with the greatest artists from seven decades competing with each other, often with multiple entries each, in the crowded field of recording classical evergreens. We interpret it thus: include it only if it really knocks your socks off. This uncompromising approach does conflict with the budget limit and the urge to cover a good deal of territory. But wherever compromise attempted to sneak in at the expense of absolute quality, we tried to resist it.

Another rule was not to include box sets. It’s tempting when you can get the complete works of Bach, Mozart, or Beethoven for $99.99… and all the Wagner operas for $32.66. But that’s unstructured overkill and, in our experience, detrimental to listening habits. Each recording included in this list, and each composer, deserves at least the focus and concentration (and, yes, the expense!) that goes with listening specifically to one album. The kind of focus that used to happen necessarily when people put a vinyl album on their record player. (It makes all the difference: many of them still think vinyl sounds better for this reason.) Experiencing this music for the first time should be a piece-by-piece event, even in an age where the media—hard drives, clouds—have practically no physical confines.

Finally, we tried—and failed—to make the list compatible for iTunes downloading, hard-copy-purchasing, andSpotify streaming. We’ve come close, and picked only albums [then] in print (which might, granted, [and did] change tomorrow). At the time, Spotify (which shares exceedingly little revenue with the artists and record companies, it might be pointed out) didn’t carry three essential labels: Hyperion, ECM, and Harmonia Mundi – so the initial playlist had to substitute the relevant recordings. They do now and the list has since updated accordingly. If you have access to the Naxos Music Library, that should enable you to hear every one of these albums, too.)

The relative prominence of time-tested, ‘classic recordings’ on this list (four out of nine—out of ten, if you count the ‘iTunes bonus’) is not primarily one of nostalgia but economics. These are recordings that are exceptional – and widely acknowledged as such, but they have also earned their money many times over and can be re-released in various guises at ever decreasing price points. But there is also a reason why new recordings are still made and listened to: every generation needs its Beethoven, its Bach, its John Adams. A few classic interpretations are truly exceptional and a few favorite artists really were unique, but often the focus on older recordings by collectors is a sentimental one; a disease called “Golden Ageism”, caused by the emotional footprint that the first exposure to a particular interpretation leaves. Not that there’s anything wrong with that… with any luck, you will acquire it with some of these choices!

The List

Hooked in under $100

And here now are, in order of recommended listening, the recordings we would recommend to hook you.

Read more »

Critic’s Notebook: Pannon Philharmonic from Pécs at Vienna’s Musikverein

Also reviewed for Die Presse: Von wegen Touristenfallenkonzert! Eine überraschende Stichprobe im Wiener Musikverein

C. Debussy Images, Prélude à l'après-midi d'un faune, Printemps P.Boulez, Cleveland (DG, 1992) US | UK | DE

W.A. Mozart Concerto for Flute & Harp F.P, Orch.18thCt, Hünteler, Storck (Philips, 1996) US | UK | DE

Tourist Concert – but First-Class!

A musical calling card from Pécs worth hearing, at the Musikverein

There’s that old joke where a tourist in New York asks a taxi driver, “How do you get to Carnegie Hall?” The answer of course being: “Practice, practice, practice!” These days, it is perhaps a bit easier. Certainly anyone wanting to get on stage of the Musikverein needs, first and foremost, a plush enouhg checking account. Though, of course, it does help if one has practiced as well. Seasoned Viennese concertgoers won’t likely stray into performances by (to take examples from the upcoming schedule) the doctors’ orchestra (better to see the dentist directly), the SchlossCapelle (Vivaldi’s Four Seasons on permanent loop), or the occasional youth orchestra itching to say it once played the famed Golden Hall. Tourists, however, will end up filling the seats. And perhaps a few local concert-novices, too. Either way, those, too (or especially?!) ought to be given a good first impression.

So how about a little spot check?! And why not pick a concert by the “Pannon Philharmonic”? Sounds Hungarian (it is!) - and the experiences with Hungarian orchestras has been pretty great, lately. The “Pannon Filharmonikusok” hail from Pécs, the university town and episcopal seat in southwest Hungary that musically serves the part of the conuntry below Laka Balaton to the Croation border, about five hours by car from Vienna. The orchestra, founded by the Viennese Johann Georg Lickl, has 115 years under its belt and boasts of playing at home in Hungary’s best acoustic: the Kodály Center, opened in 2010. That’s an attraction – as is the fact that Pécs lies just 30 kilometers north of Villány, Hungary’s finest red-wine region.

As part of the “Music of the Masters” concert series organized by the “Volksbildungskreis” (a charmingly old-fashioned, still-plucky relic of bourgeois self-improvement), the orchestra has been appearing at the Musikverein regularly for a couple years now. Saturday night brought a program understandably geared toward popularity for such a series – a set of classical “greatest hits”: Debussy’s Prélude à l’après-midi d’un faune, Berlioz’ Symphonie fantastique, and in between the lovely Mozart concerto for flute and harp.

Ionarts recommended recording of Berlioz’ Symphonie fantastique

“If we fall asleep during the Debussy,” joked one cellist, “it’ll be because of the Wiener Schnitzel we were served right after arriving.” No one in the orchestra fell asleep, at least. Nor, presumably, anyone in the audience – because this was no tourist-trap concert at all. What was delivered here was genuinely good: far beyond merely exceeding low expectations. Led in the Debussy by a first-rate flute, cushioned by a homogeneous, flexible string sound, the orchestra under chief conductor Gergely Kessekyák presented itself as romantic, clean, charming – indeed, unreasonably good. Nor did the orchestra put a foot wrong in the Berlioz (one wobble of the entire evening), playing with joy rather than routine. Mozart, wedged between the French Romantics, was somewhat overpowered and lost in the middle but not poorly played for all that. Viennese audiences may still stay away – but for the Volksbildungskreis and stray tourists, this orchestra is a real boon.

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