Domestic Dispute about Strauss

The National Symphony Orchestra featured three concerts with cellist Han-Na Chang under Leonard Slatkin. Daniel Ginsberg reviewed the Beethoven-Prokofiev-Strauss concert more or less enthusiastically in the Washington Post, though he obviously couldn't stand Strauss's Sinfonia Domestica, which he didn't deem worth the effort or time of a performance.

Unfortunately, it defied imagination that the conductor would put the orchestra through so much time and energy to perform Strauss's "Symphonia Domestica," Op. 53. [...] To modern listeners [...] the score of more than 40 minutes paints a picture of musical sprawl. Though filled with some pleasingly lush instrumental writing, this is one of the composer's most disjointed works.

As the NSO invested its skills in this repetitive and saccharine score, one pleaded for something else. [...] With playing this fine, the Strauss by no means torpedoed the whole evening. Still, it seemed that the NSO's abilities would have been better spent on other music.

The Concert Hall was only three quarters or two thirds full, but those who were there got a good start with the Leonore Overture #3 (op. 72a), which was done with lavish feeling and in a highly evocative manner. Still, it felt too slow to be a cohesive whole in the first half of the work. Once Slatkin stepped a bit on the pedal, it worked out very nicely and the trumpet call from the wings was at least a cute idea. The gradations of tone, the changes of undercurrent, however, were excellent and betray the fact that the NSO continues to improve. That it also needs to improve is no secret, nor is the fact that Mr. Slatkin is probably one of the dozen of best conductors for specifically that job.

Maestro Slatkin's 60 years don't keep him from getting excited, either, as proven by little leaps on the podium that accompanied the final of Leonore 3.

S. Prokofiev, Sinfonia Concertante, Han-Na Chang, Pappano

The Sinfonia Concertante, op. 125, Prokofiev's first of two pseudo-cello concertos (the Concertino for Cello and Orchestra, op. 132, is the other one) was, for all its limitations, rather smashing. Han-Na Chang has a very clean, almost lithe tone that's laden with the tension and energy so often found in young female string players. She skates on the cello with passion: others (not necessarily to lesser effect) dig. Both styles can be impressive when done well, and Han-Na Chang did her work very well. (The horns could have been more in tune on a few rare occasions in this relatively plush Prokofiev work.)

The beautiful and fragile looking Han-Na Chang, whose only fault tonight may have been a tone that was ultimately not involving enough, attacked her cello in the more furious passages that belied nonsensical ideas such as attributing fragility to her. True to her style, even in those movements she was more a wild gazelle than a stampeding rhinoceros.

R. Strauss, Complete Orchestral Works, Rudolf Kempe

R. Strauss, Sinfonia Domestica, Parergon, David Zinman

The Sinfonia Domestica, played directly in front of oneself, is (pace Daniel Ginsberg) a most pleasing thing. First of all, it's Strauss. Not yet the Strauss of the light textures that make Capriccio one of the greatest works in music, but the harmonies are all there. Of course, the work always tempts us to deduce exactly what part of the music represents what element in Strauss's home life... alas this curiosity, this drive to "understand" the work is—at least according to Strauss himself—counterproductive to the enjoyment of the music. In a way he, like Mahler, concocted some of the most programmatic music ever written, only then to demand it be listened to as (quasi-) absolute music. If you can, the rewards are high indeed.

Gentler, more lighthearted, and with a healthy dose of irony and friendly self-deprecation, the Sinfonia Domestica lacks the bombast of Ein Heldenleben but makes up for it with charm. Rereading Mr. Ginsberg's excerpt makes me want to denounce his Strauss-bashing as rubbish. To convince yourself of the work's qualities, try it (on headphones!) in the just about definitive version (as are all of Strauss's orchestral works) with Rudolf Kempe on EMI. If the complete set seems a bit too much (though it's all worth it), you can find a good budget version in David Zinmann's Arte Nova recording. (He, too, has a dirt-cheap complete Strauss box set.) Or you might wait for Christian Thielemann to do it with the Munich or Vienna Philharmonic, which should not be to far off in the future (on DG). The evening was worth it, then, not despite but in part because of the Strauss. Had, however, Han-Na Chung stuck around and participated in Strauss's Don Quixote, I too, would have gladly seen the Sinfonia off the program.

Washington National Opera on the Radio

This is a reminder of what I announced here on September 19, for readers living in the Washington area. On Saturdays for the next seven weeks, operas from last year's season of the Washington National Opera will be broadcast on WETA (90.9 FM), leading up to the opening of the live broadcast season from the Met. Right now, I am listening to their production of Vincenzo Bellini's Norma, the first in the broadcast schedule.

Emmanuel Villaume conducted a cast including Irina Mishura (Adalgisa), Richard Margison (Pollione), Kyle Ketelsen (Oroveso), and most spectacularly Armenian soprano Hasmik Papian in the ultimately demanding title role, which requires some two hours of almost constant singing presence on the stage. Here are some reviews of the production, staged in DAR Constitution Hall in Fall 2003:

• Kate Wingfield, Powerful Priestess: Norma at the Washington Opera (Metro Weekly, October 16)
  
• Katherine Cartwright, Washington Opera's 'Norma' Opens (The Hoya, October 17)
  
• John C. Shulson, Washington's First Norma (ConcertoNet.com, October 18)

George Sand Exhibit

An article (Dans l'intimité de George Sand, October 21) in Le Figaro briefly reviewed an exhibit of photographs, manuscripts, and other material related to novelist George Sand, called George Sand, L'œuvre-vie, at La Bibliothèque historique de la Ville de Paris until November 14. This exhibit is part of the George Sand Year (see my posts on July 7 and February 6).

Little by little, visitors discover an intimate relationship with Sand. He is submerged in her life through four important periods. First, there is her childhood with her father's family: the jealous opposition of her grandmother to the marriage of George's parents and her early separation from her mother. Next, we see the literary beginnings of she who was not yet George Sand. The young Aurore Dupin, who made her debut in Le Figaro, makes efforts in the novel, the theater, and soon is bound by friendship with the greatest names in literature: Sainte-Beuve, Dumas, Hugo, Flaubert. Everyone fell under the young woman's charm. "No living person can dare be so insolent as to be parallel to you: you are destined to a success like that of Lamartine. [...] Balzac and Mérimée died under Indiana," the critic Henri de Latouche wrote to her. Then come the political activities, her shadowy collaboration with the socialist Ledru-Rollin, the preparation of future popular revolts and battles for women's rights. The exhibit concludes in the family home at Nohant. At the end of her life, Sand devoted herself to the theater and to marionnettes with her beloved son, at last found again.

One major part of the exhibit is the display of her manuscripts and corrected publication proofs, by which "the mystery of literary work is illuminated." Her personal life is connected to the stories in her works, likes La Petite Fadette and La Mare au diable. Unfortunately, there is no Web site for the exhibit. However, you can read most of her work online at Gallica, the excellent collection of electronic texts from the Bibliothèque nationale de France.

Opera by Film Directors

In an article (Lights, camera, Ariadne, October 17) for The Guardian, Allan Ulrich takes a look at how many film directors are getting into the opera act. Among recent examples, he mentions especially William Friedkin's production of Strauss's Ariadne auf Naxos for the Los Angeles Opera (under Domingo's leadership), Julie Taymor's Magic Flute for the Met, Robert Altman's production of the world premiere of William Bolcom's A Wedding for Lyric Opera of Chicago (Arnold Weinstein's libretto adapts Altman's own 1978 film). To put this into historical context, he mentions operatic productions by Rouben Mamoulian (Porgy and Bess, 1935), Francis Ford Coppola (von Einem, The Visit of the Old Lady for the San Francisco Opera), Visconti, Schlesinger. Then, he looks toward the future:

The LA Opera has now commissioned productions by Herbert Ross, Bruce Beresford and Maximilian Schell, who returns for a new Rosenkavalier in May. [...] For LA's next season's opening, Garry Marshall's penchant for comedies like Pretty Woman and TV's Laverne and Shirley will be applied to Offenbach's satiric La Grande Duchesse de Gérolstein. Friedkin is now insatiable. He has already signed on for a new Los Angeles Samson and Delilah and the premiere in 2006 of Unsuk Chin's Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. Domingo's one failure? Attempting to coax George Lucas and his Industrial Light and Magic team into producing a 21st-century version of Wagner's Ring.

I also think that a Merchant Ivory production of a 19th-century opera—say, Massenet's Manon Lescaut—could be interesting.

From Schade and Braun, A Rich Mix of Song

This review was originally published in the Washington Post (From Schade and Braun, A Rich Mix of Song, October 21).

In a varied and well-balanced Vocal Arts Society program of duets, arias, lieder, and mélodies for tenor and baritone, Michael Schade and Russell Braun, husband to accompanist Carolyn Maule, started with Monteverdi madrigals. Both singers delved headlong into Tornate, O Cari Baci with much gusto and energy and to great effect with the audience. Monteverdi, I am sad to say, did not survive that treatment. Carolyn Maule's clear and precise but rather timid playing was drowned out and the texture that makes Monteverdi so unique and ahead of his time was lost.

Next Schade got to display Mozart's earthy wit in songs that hinted at known melodies without actually quoting any. In these four seldom heard songs Schade seemed like a tenor version of the lesser aspects of Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau's art: mannered, slightly stilted, and impeccable—literally to a fault. His instrument is strong, very focused and clean, and almost piercing, and with it he conducts precision operations in music. What I missed was a bit more inviting, open quality.

The torch was then passed on to Russell Braun and Schubert. An assortment of four songs, the highlight of which was Doppelgänger, was done with just the right mix of eeriness and panache. Carolyn Maule, too, found some more energy that she injected into these as well as the following Schumann pieces.

The Schumann offered five duets—three songs from op. 43, the Intermezzo (op. 74, no. 2), and Blaue Augen hat das Mädchen (op. 138, no. 9)—all of which were true marvels. As the valuable Vocal Arts Society program supplement to the worthless (informationless) Playbill pointed out, these Schumann works are better described as trios for two voices and piano. The piano part was not only notably more challenging to Carolyn Maule but also plays an active part in the songs. Utterly enjoyable, sung with much verve, and all too rarely heard, they brought the first half of the program to an outstanding end.

Gabriel Fauré's last and short song cycle L'Horizon Chimérique was a welcome treat of little song paintings, movingly depicted by Braun. Schade was impressive in Ravel's Cinq mélodies popularies grecques. The songs themselves—short, faux-exotic, and lithe—are a delight, and suddenly Schade showed subtleties and pianos and his tone seemed perfectly suited to the French text. Splendid, indeed. A little gaffe when he started the long, unaccompanied section of "Quel galant m'est comparable" in the wrong key, only to catch himself within seconds, was disarming and amusing alike.

What followed were all duets: Saint Saëns's El desdichado (very well done) and Fauré's Puisqu'ici-bas, beautifully set to a Victor Hugo poem which is itself a bit ironic, given that Hugo hated music. Again, Schade and Braun excelled as the evening got progressively more enjoyable.

John Greer's setting of Québecois folk songs, introduced by Schade with slightly self-deprecating charm and wit (thanking the audience for being so Canada-friendly), were fine closing statements. Folk or popular songs sung by operatic voices can often be overkill and more embarrassment than entertainment, but "Les Raftsmen" & Co. were gaudy and fun without ever being cheesy or saccharine.

Another Canadian, Geoffry O'Hara's song (and Enrico Caruso favorite) "Your Eyes Have Told Me What I Did Not Know" was Russell Braun's encore—"sung in a different key" as he said, thereby coyly poking fun at his colleague's earlier mishap. A French piece was announced by Schade as the second encore—and promised to be "still pretty good," even without being Canadian. It was the most famous tenor-baritone duet there is, Bizet's "Au fond du temple saint" from Les Pêcheurs de perles. Gorgeous and with plenty of opportunities for the singers to let their voices boom, it brought the crowd in the Terrace Theater to their feet.

Palestrina Choir

This review was first published in the Washington Post (Palestrina Choir, October 20).

The Tuesday Concert Series at The Church of the Epiphany, the only original pre-Civil War downtown church building to have survived to this day, featured four soloists of The Palestrina Choir in a program of selected motets by Renaissance composer Orlande de Lassus, who worked in Munich for most of his 62 productive years. The eight pieces selected from the 1579 work Altera pars selectissimarum cantionum were well chosen and thankful vehicles for Joellen Brassfield (soprano), who really warmed up after a few motets, Marjorie Bunday, the wonderful alto, Michael Harrison (tenor and founder of the 18 year old choir), and bass Darrel Sampson.

The Palestrina Choir devotes itself to Renaissance music of composers like Tomas Luis de Victoria, Thomas Tallis, William Byrd, Clemens non Papa, and of course their namesake, Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina. If the four soloists allow for any judgment on the full choir's performance, their concert on Saturday, October 23rd at St. Peter's Catholic Church or the day thereafter at St. Luke in McLean will be an aural treat no one with even the faintest interest in pre-Baroque music should like to miss.

What counts in the "one to a part" pieces by Lassus is less vocal brilliance than cohesiveness, teamwork, and a deep understanding for the subject matter, all of which the four soloists possess in sheer abundance. The concert, starting just after twelve noon, was a perfect respite and provided an oasis of calm and elusive beauty amid the stress and hectic goings-on of work and city life. Well attended as it was, the free concert had plenty of room still for downtowners with better plans for lunch than a fast food sandwich.

Dip Your Ears, No. 13 (Maurizio Pollini's Late Beethoven Sonatas)

Ludwig van Beethoven, The Late Piano Sonatas, Maurizio Pollini DG

Granite and White Gold

This disc contains what is without a doubt some of the best Beethoven playing ever caught on record. Actually, it contains some of the best piano playing—period. Maurizio Pollini, sometimes brilliant to a fault, makes more out of these sonatas than his colleagues current and past, and he brings enough emotional charge to his already technically flawless articulation. The Hammerklavier Sonata, op. 106, is monumental, thundering, grandiose. Others, like Sviatoslav Richter, Willhelm Kempf, Rudolf Serkin, or Richard Goode, are more concerned with working out the melody, but at the cost of the mountainous quality. Granitic strenght and a 'vertial awesomeness' make this legendary recording rightly revered.

In the slow movement of op.111 Pollini is lyrical and gentle, after having just climbed its first movement with vigor. Thomas Mann spent a whole chapter in Dr. Faustus on op. 111: if you hear it on this recording, you might wonder why not an entire book. This is a performance of five masterpieces that you must have if you like the genre, and if you don't, you will after listening to this!

Maurizio Pollini will be playing in Washington on October 27th at the Kennedy Center.

Wal-Mart at Teotihuacan

A disturbing article (Mexique: le supermarché et les pyramides, October 18) from France 2 Cultural News informed me that a Wal-Mart superstore will open, on November 15, only 2.5 km (1.55 miles) from the site of the Pyramid of the Sun in Teotihuacan, not far from Mexico City. (I have since seen some coverage in the English-language press. Cronaca mentioned the story on September 10.) Teotihuacan, a name meaning "city of the gods," is the ruin of a vast city and sacred precinct, revered by all of the Mesoamerican cultures living in that part of the world from the time it was created, starting around the time of the birth of Christ. According to the article (my translation), the Wal-Mart superstore:

is located within the perimeter of the site classified as part of the World's Patrimony of Humanity, in the center of the village of San Juan Teotihuacan, where many houses and businesses have sprung up over the last few decades. Furthermore, an automobile dealership and a hotel will allegedly be opened next within a short time. The activism of those opposed to the project has thus been of no use. On October 14, 63 Mexican artists and intellectual leaders sent an open letter out of desperation to the Mexican President, Vicente Fox, asking for an immediate halt to the work and for a new location to be found.

Very depressing. Can Disneyhuacan be far behind?