Musicians from Marlboro I — by Jens Laurson

Ionarts is happy to welcome new contributor Jens F. Laurson—formerly of Munich, Germany, and now of Washington, D.C.—who brings an interesting perspective on the state of music performance in our nation's capital. His first two reviews we are publishing are of concerts given in late November.

Marking the beginning of the "Musicians from Marlboro" series at the Freer Gallery, this program of Mozart, Ravel and Schumann chamber music, presented on November 18, was a good start.

Three young musicians came on stage to give a quaint and lovely rendition of Mozart’s Piano Trio K. 502 in B-flat major. Tai Murry on violin was convincing and left one in want of more—especially for music that might be more energetic—as the repertoire seemed to hold her back unduly, if ever so slightly. Cellist Peter Stumpf, by far the most mature player in the bunch, was superb and flawless, while pianist Anna Polonsky was exuberant in her expressions, although more physically than musically. While it may not have been a performance of a light piece that was especially memorable, it was well done and rightly well received.

The program picked up a notch or two when the Sonata for Violin and Cello by Maurice Ravel was presented. Peter Stumpf again on cello, almost fatherly in his support and energy, and Timothy Fain on violin. The latter, a young man of Joshua-Bellish good looks, played admirably, but seemed strangely stiff in a way that reminded me more (and unkindly) of Andre Rieu. The Sonata was new to my ears and betrayed influences of Bartok and, as pointed out by the informative program notes, Debussy. The lively finale had Mozartian elements in a technical exterior that evoked Bartok’s String Quartet #5. Faced with something visibly and audibly difficult to play, Mssrs. Fain and Stumpf had the audience captured with music that does not often command the full attention of the conservative Washington audience. Only in the pianissimo passages did the violin seem to have occasional weaknesses.

The Schumann Piano Quintet op.44 (E-flat major) was the concluding piece of the evening. And so the four incredibly talented musicians (I would guess them to be in their early 20s, the cellist being the exception) who had played so far were joined by equally talented Carrie Dennis on viola in this stalwart of the Romantic chamber music repertoire. Again, Peter Stumpf seemed the center of gravity, in what was "Hausmusik" of the highest order. Refreshingly brisk, not as cohesive as when a veteran string quartet form the body of the piece, but immensely gratifying thanks to the sheer musicality of the performers. The movement "Modo di una marcia" was perhaps the greatest challenge, and Mr. Fain’s breathing was oddly audible. But when the rapture of the music took over again, everything was back on track.

Perhaps this was a figment of my imagination, but some of the instruments did not seem as sonorous and well rounded as I would like. Noticeable, especially, in the lower registers. That a "circa mid-1700 Cigli Viola" should sound unsatisfying (even "boxy") to my amateur ears is difficult to believe. It might be interesting to speculate that I have been spoiled by the exposure to the instruments of the Juilliard String Quartet and their like at the well-equipped Library of Congress.

With a few days between the performance and my recollection, I’d sum up that while the Mozart was ever so nice and the Schumann spoke for itself, it was the Ravel that was most intriguing. Even when perfection of execution had perhaps been missed by some margin, the music had been well communicated and leaves me, for one, in search of a delectable performance on record—by tomorrow at the latest.

James Turrell

I admire the ideas behind Earth Art (or Land Art or Site Art or whatever you want to call it): Michael Heizer, Robert Smithson, Joseph Beuys, Walter De Maria (creator of the Lightning Field), Christo and Jean-Claude, Denis Oppenheim, Richard Long. However, I think the most effective of these artists is James Turrell, whose main interest is in the effect of light and space, natural and manmade. When I took my Humanities class of two years ago to the National Gallery, their favorite work in the East building was a temporary installation by Turrell. Many of those students still talk about the experience of seeing that installation: a room dimly lit in blue with a framed void lit in red in the far wall. I have been avidly following Turrell's progress on what will hopefully be his magnum opus, the museum of light he has been creating at Roden Crater in northern Arizona (at the time of this writing, the Web site was closed; here are some other photos of the site).

So, it was interesting to read an article (James Turrell, une foi en la lumière [James Turrell, faith in light], December 11) by Francis Rambert in Le Figaro about Turrell's latest work being shown in Paris:

His patriarch's beard makes him seem somewhat older. James Turrell, 60 years old, AKA the Pope of Light, is aware of his calling: "In the world we live in, when you see how nations and religions conduct themselves, I feel that it is a privilege to be an artist or a writer." An American artist riding at the head of Land Art and "Light and Space," he has just created an exceptional work on the 140-meter (459-foot) glass façade of the Caisse des Dépôts building in Paris, designed by the architect Christian Hauvette on the banks of the Seine near the Austerlitz train station. This type of work on contemporary architecture is a first in France.

The Mairie (town hall) of the 13th arrondissement of Paris adds the following information on its Web site:

Architect of light, James Turrell has been seeking to capture the ethereal for some 30 years. For the Caisse des Dépôts et Consignations building situated on the banks of the Seine, he has created the lighting of the glass façade, which changes in a slow and regular manner in a 20-minute cycle from dusk through the night. This work is part of Turrell's attempts to associate specific works of architecture with a luminous "clothing." This is the first work commissioned from James Turrell in Paris.

The work was first illuminated during the Nuit Blanche festivities, the night of October 4, and can be seen on the building (at 1, quai d'Austerlitz, in the 13th) nightly from 8 pm to 8 am.

There is a picture of the installation here. You can also read Dominique Widemann's interview with James Turrell ("Nous sommes faits pour le crépuscule" [We were made for dusk], October 4) in L'Humanité.

The VGAs . . . Game Over

It's that time of the year, folks. Time to give thanks, appreciation, and bestow gifts . . . upon ourselves. Yes, it's awards season. Time for Hollywood to line up and compact every movie worth seeing (and many that aren't) into a two-month period and elongate everyone's future Netflix, Tivo, and video lists for years to come. For those who pride themselves as moviegoers, it's a very challenging time, if you don't have hundreds of free hours and dollars to spare while Miramax tries to convince you that you're missing the next "English Patient," "Shakespeare in Love," or "Teaching Mrs. Tingle" (hey, it had Helen Mirren . . .).

The starting gun has been fired as we wait with bated breath to see our favorite stars open their gifts. The accolades are plenty as critical lauds elbow for attention between the Blockbusters, AFI, Screen Actors Guild, New York Film Critics Circle, National Board of Review, the Golden Globes, MTV, People's Choice, and, of course, The Raspberries. So much so, that the Oscars has decided to move its telecast to February in an effort to declare checkmate. So with all the shuffling about, many of you may have had the blessed opportunity to miss the VGAs (Video Game Awards) this past Thursday night. For those of you graced with a life on Thursday nights, let me illuminate you on this "must see" event that was full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

One might wonder why anyone with a mind or heartbeat would bother watching something titled "The VGAs" (which bears closer resemblance to the Porn Awards), let alone write a review. Certainly, this was the producer's "thinking" from the outset when they designed this abomination. I'm sure the network pitch sounded similar to, "We don't want this to look like an awards show . . . we want you to forget you're watching an awards show, we want you to forget you're watching television, to forget you're watching something about video games, to forget . . . um, that . . . well, just to forget." If only I could.

The answer is simple but not obvious. A little known fact is that video games (or "interactive media," if you're over thirty) grossed more than all movies and video titles last year. That's right. So while Harvey and Bob are gesturing over here with their screener controversy and release dates, in their other sleeve is a billion dollar industry that has been known up to now as toys for tots. It's no coincidence that in the last few years we have seen an unprecedented number of celebrity crossovers for game (er, um, media) platforms with their Hollywood namesakes. Sir Ian McKellan, the Oscar-nominated British thesp, and the rest of his Fellowship have all loaned their voices for both "The Two Towers" and "The Return of the King" games. David Duchovny is voicing the protagonist in "XIII" while the "Grand Theft Auto" series boasts the talents of Joe Pantoliano, Michael Madsen, Michael Rappaport, and Ray Liotta, to name just a few. That's not to mention the multiple sports icons, who would normally spend their off-season playing golf, who are now suiting up in motion capture suits on sound stages to create virtual interpretations of their moves, gestures, and occasional on-field tantrums for such games as EA's "NHL" series or Microsoft's "Topspin" (my two personal favorites).

Yet, if one was to watch this telecast on Spike TV you would have to make the assumption that this cash-cow industry is completely financed by thirteen-year-old boys. While I assume that demographic plays a large part in its sales (one wonders what they are paying for mall jobs these days?), it can't account for its single-handed dominance of an industry. It felt as if Spike TV was too cool to air an awards show . . . as if from the start it was apologizing for its very existence. From its pre-show warm-up (yes, a countdown of thirty minutes) of Steve-O falling off ladders and attempting to hurt himself to various shots of porn stars and models saying quips, including such key words as "joystick" and, um, "games." Even the selling out, er, um, hiring of David Spade who made it clear on his entrance that he had better places to be. Yes, apparently even David Spade has standards and was too cool to be there that night.

There is an expression from The Red Hot Chili Peppers in the late eighties made popular by MTV that goes, "If it's too loud, you're too old." Well, according to the VGAs, once you have a driver's liscense you are too old to appreciate video games. The contention isn't with the broadcast's approach necessarily (who doesn't like hot chicks and bad music?), but with its condescension towards its demographic. What these producers and marketing slobs fail to realize is that an entire generation raised with Nintendo, Atari, and the reliable Vic 20 have grown into a high-income revenue possibility. That the very generation that made sci-fi and fantasy popular are now in their thirties and forties and no longer see gaming as strictly for children.

While I am sure the parading of various porn stars (i.e., Jenna Jameson, Pamela Anderson, etc.) and the DJ blathering on before cutting to constant commercials were enough to hook certain adolescent attentions for most of the broadcast, I'm still skeptical that this crass approach actually worked. For one brief moment during the noise-assaulted hour (or more?), as the camera careened about wildly from table to table and cheerleaders swarmed the tables of designers with champagne and confetti in an attempt to make things look "fun" (the effect was quite the opposite), there was a brief glimpse of honesty. Upon being acknowledged for their game design, the lens caught two skinny, white, bespectacled young designers at the table ACTUALLY PLAYING their own video game. Insane.

Why would two young men amid loud music, screaming disaffected models, and a cynical host not partake of all the glory?

It's simple . . . they like playing video games. Which is a point this show had lost in its entirety. It was the only point in the evening where one actually saw any reverence for a game's design, the games being played, or of a real gamer's interest in them. In no short order, Mr. Spade let them know what losers they were and that they would never get "laid" and let me tell you . . . these guys didn't bat an eye. They were lost in the game. A place these producers have probably never been.

In the past year there have been various articles published about what games celebrities like to play. Julia Roberts is a self-professed "Halo" addict. Tiger Woods plays his own game. Robin Williams named one of his daughters after a character in the "Zelda" series. A friend told me he attended a "Medal of Honor" party where Drew Carrey linked 12 computers together with fellow actors and producers on a Friday night. I even had a friend at CAA (Creative Artists Agency, one of, if not THE most prestigious talent agency) try to meet me on a Friday night when he was roped into an enormous "Halo" tournament in THE LOBBY with fellow agents. If all these entertainment power-hitters are playing video games, why does the VGAs insist on chasing gaming back to the eighties? If this show had its way it would shame gamers into hiding their versions of "Mario Cart" down in their porn vaults . . . where I guarantee these people spend most of their time.

Volcanic Atmosphere, not Existential Angst?

This will probably get major coverage in the blog world today, but there is a new theory about the inspiration for Edvard Munch's famous self-portrait The Scream, as explained by Leon Jaroff in an article (More Than a 'Scream': A Blast Felt Round the World, December 9) in the New York Times. If you don't have access to the Times Web site, you can also read this version of the article (Earthshaking inspiration?, December 9) for free from the International Herald Tribune. Dr. Donald Olson, an astronomer at Texas State University, and his colleagues believe that the colorful sky in Munch's expressionistic recollection of walking on a road near Christiania (now Oslo) at sunset in late 1883 (the work was not created until 1893) was the result of a natural disaster on the other side of the world. In an article to be published in the February 2004 issue of Sky & Telescope, Dr. Olson's group will be "the first to have made the connection between one of the world's most famous paintings and one of the world's greatest disasters," a cataclysmic volcanic explosion on the Indonesian island of Krakatoa in August 1883, which was so strong that the resulting tsunamis reportedly killed 36,000 people.

It lofted huge amounts of dust and gases high into the atmosphere, where they remained airborne and in the next several months spread over vast parts of the globe.

Dr. Olson's group scoured the literature and found a report on Krakatoa's effects issued by the Royal Society of London. One section was "Descriptions of the Unusual Twilight Glows in Various Parts of the World, in 1883-4."

Those "twilight glows" hardly went unnoticed in New York. On Nov. 28, 1883, The New York Times reported: "Soon after 5 o'clock the western horizon suddenly flamed into a brilliant scarlet, which crimsoned sky and clouds."

"Many thought that a great fire was in progress," it continued.

About the same time, similar phenomena began appearing in Norwegian twilight skies. Olson believes that Munch, too, must have been startled, even frightened, the first time he witnessed the fiery spectacle, probably in late 1883, nearly a decade before he produced "The Scream." No Munch journal entries have been found for that time.

You can read the press release (Astronomical Sleuths Link Krakatoa to Edvard Munch's Painting The Scream, December 9) about Olson's findings from Sky & Telescope. You can also read an advance copy of Olson's article (When the Sky Ran Red: The Story Behind The Scream, but you have to pay a fee. Prof. Olson, I'm proud to say, is an alumnus of Ionarts' beloved alma mater, Michigan State University.

Childhood in Greek Art

After many years of admiring ancient Greek art and literature, I have finally been learning Greek for the past year and a half and loving every minute of it. So, even though I am a bit late, I want to draw attention to a recent exhibit of Greek art, which sadly we don't have many opportunities to see in Washington. An old article (How do you say 'family' in Greek?, November 14) by Gregory M. Lamb in the Christian Science Monitor led me to find the Web site for the exhibit Coming of Age in Ancient Greece: Images of Childhood from the Classical Past, which will be at the Hood Museum of Art at Dartmouth College until December 14. (From there it will travel to the Onassis Cultural Center in New York, from January 19 to April 15; the Cincinnati Art Museum, from May 21 to August 1; and the J. Paul Getty Museum in Los Angeles from September 14 to December 5.)

Of the roughly 120 objects on display, dating from 1,500 B.C. to 100 A.D., you can see a brief selection on the Web site (a list is here). Mr. Lamb's article begins with the observation that one of the Greek words for "child" (paiV) can also mean "slave," but it is also the root for "education" (paideia), which can also mean "childhood," and the word for "tutor" (literally, "child-leader") (paidagwgoV), the basis for "pedagogue" in English. (A boy is shown learning various things from his tutor in the paintings on the bowl shown at left, in the exhibit.) This means that the Greek view of childhood is, typically, probably going to be complex. The exhibit's Web site also makes available several pages of quotations from Greek literature relating to children and childhood, put together by two Dartmouth students, Alison Schmauch and Amanda Herring. This has added immensely to the experience of looking at the images of art and makes me want to see the show in New York or Cincinnati even more. Dartmouth is one of the colleges in the United States with a great Classics Department, which is something that we need to put back into American education. When I was in high school, my senior-year English teacher happened to have us read a translation of The Oresteia, and I realized that there was a huge gap in my knowledge. I had been taking classes in the honors curriculum at one of the best high schools in Michigan, and I knew nothing about Latin or Greek and next to nothing about ancient history and literature. That is pathetic.

Lille, European Capital of Culture

On the news from France 2 last night, there was an article about the city of Lille, which for one year has received the title of capitale européenne de la culture. As you can learn in an article (Lille inaugure son titre de capitale européenne de la culture, December 6) in Le Monde, the city will spend a budget of 74 million euros, shared among the city, state, national, and European governments, as well as corporate sponsors. Expenditures include this weekend of partying, the restoration of several historic sites, and the "metamorphosis" of several public places into cultural "madhouses." For example, Lille's main train station (Lille-Flandres) is lit entirely in pink light, there is an inverted forest on display somewhere (still trying to locate a photo), and the Rue Faidherbe, which links the downtown area to the train station, is lined with matching pairs of futuristic arches (see image at right), 8 meters (26 feet) tall, created by comic book artist Jean-Claude Mezières. You can learn more at the official Web site of Lille 2004: Capitale Européenne de la Culture.

Last night, to begin the celebration in front of the train station, the Orchestre National de Lille was joined by a thousand other professional and amateur musicians in a concert featuring a performance of Le Chant des Chemins de Fer (The Song of the Railways) by Hector Berlioz. This piece was commissioned in 1846 to commemmorate the linking of Paris and Lille by rail. (You can listen to an unrelated performance of it here and look at the score here.) From the few seconds I heard of the rehearsal on the news, there is not much more I can say about it.

To put this in perspective, the budget of 74 million euros (about $90 million) to make Lille into a fabulous cultural madhouse is about the same amount as the increase alone over last year (up to $320 million from about $230 million last year) on what the United States government will spend next year on manufacturing new plutonium cores, or "pits," for our burgeoning arsenal of nuclear weapons (see James Sterngold, A new era of nuclear weapons: Bush's buildup begins with little debate in Congress in the San Francisco Chronicle, December 7). As Rep. David Hobson (R-Ohio) put it, "We have more nuclear weapons now than we know what to do with.'' When even Republican representatives are saying that, it's clearly time to carve up some of that DoD budget to transform a few cities in North America into fabulous cultural madhouses.

Flooding in Arles

This has been a strange year of harsh weather in France. There has been bad flooding across southern France over the past week or so, including in the historical town of Arles (see my posts on the excavation of a 4th-century basilica there on November 17 and November 20). The dike that protected Arles from the rising waters of the Rhône River gave way on Thursday, and a report (Thousands of firemen pump water out of Arles, December 6) from Reuters describes the city as "submerged." Several thousand firemen, policemen, and soldiers are working in the area to rescue and help the 10,000 affected people. In another article (Flooding displaces prisoners, December 6), Thierry Boinet of the Associated Press reports that "masked elite police officers ferried nearly 200 high-risk inmates, including convicted terrorists, to safety Friday from a flooded prison" in Arles. He also states that "much of the town of Arles was under 3 feet of water." Prisoners had already been moved to the second floor and then were carried across a half-mile of water in rubber boats by police.

The estimated 16 million cubic meters of flood water in Arles will take as long as 10 days of pumping to remove, and it has probably caused between 150 million and 200 million euros ($180 million to $240 million) in damage. Flooding is said to be the worst in the northern parts of Arles, but the historical center of the town—where the Roman arena and theater, the recently cleaned and restored Church of St. Trophime, and the site of the basilica excavation are located—is very close to the banks of the Rhône. Obviously, the loss of lives and homes are the first priority right now, but the possible cultural losses add to the devastation. Photographs taken not far from the train station, just to the north of the Roman arena, showed people getting around on boats.

French authorities are also worried that the Loire River may crest this weekend between Orléans and Angers.

New Painting by Van Gogh?

Emmanuel de Roux writes in an article (Querelles d'experts autour d'un Van Gogh vendu aux enchères en Gironde, December 6) in Le Monde about a painting (The Laborers, shown at right) attributed to Vincent Van Gogh that will be sold at auction at the Hôtel des ventes des Graves de Portets, near Bordeaux, on December 13. The small canvas (30 x 45 cm, or 12 x 18 in) first reappeared in 1991, when it was purchased at the Montreuil flea market in Paris for less than 10,000 francs (1,500 euros) by an amateur collector who was working as a guard at the Petit Palais. Technical analysis at R & C Scientifica SRL, in Altavilla Vincentina, Italy, proved that the painting was created in the 19th century with paint and varnish identical to those used by Van Gogh, but experts who have examined the painting are divided as to its authenticity. The painting is expected to sell for between 3 and 5 million euros.

According to another article (Un Van Gogh déniché aux puces, November 29) from Radio Télévision Belge Francophone (RTBF), the man who bought the painting at the flea market wants to sell it now for a good reason:

Convinced of his discovery's value, the owner, who now lives in Bordeaux, hopes to gain more than three million euros. This man in his 40s, who wants to remain completely anonymous, hopes to be able to stop working, thanks to this sale, and realize an old dream: devoting himself to painting.

Specialists at Sotheby's deferred judgment to two Van Gogh scholars at the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam, who both concluded that the work was a forgery. However, an independent specialist named Benoît Landais claims to have identified the work in the catalogue of Van Gogh's paintings made by his brother, Theo, and in the painter's letters. M. Landais has been making waves in the art world for several years now, by claiming that some paintings accepted as Van Gogh's are not authentic. By carefully studying the painter's life, he claims to have traced a large number of Van Gogh's youthful works that were kept in storage in Breda until 1903, which he rediscovered in 1999. M. Landais believes that this painting is from the same period, 1883, painted in the area around Drenthe, in northern Holland, and then lost somewhere in transport to Breda. Some 150 of these paintings, attributed to Van Gogh, are on exhibit at the Breda Museum until February 1, 2004. (See Martin Bailey's article Lost Van Goghs Found? in The Art Newspaper, November 25). The vast majority of Van Gogh paintings that are "discovered" turn out to be fakes.