Film with Live Soundtrack

At the Edward J. Pryzbyla Center on the campus of Catholic University, the Benjamin T. Rome School of Music has been hosting a regular film series this year. (Yours truly introduced the January 19 installment, Immortal Beloved.) The final presentation took place on Wednesday, April 20, with two short silent films, accompanied by new music, a double opportunity to discover not only two classic films, one of them almost completely unknown, but also music by two local composers performed live. The composers were doing double duty for this event, as they were also performing their scores while we watched the movies.

The first film was There It Is (1928) by Charley Bowers (1889–1946), a director whose work is almost completely forgotten in the United States (although he does have an entry in the Internet Movie Database). He stars in this film alongside one of the animated puppet characters for which he was renowned, made with a technique of animation he called the Bowers Process. It has to be seen to be believed. (This movie is on a DVD, More Treasures from American Film Archives: 50 Films, 1894-1931, from the National Film Preservation Foundation, made with funding from the National Endowment of Humanities, which is the right way to spend tax dollars.) Washington composer Maurice Saylor's new score called for piano and accordion (played by composer Andrew Simpson, who also contributed some of the music), various wind instruments (oboe, recorder, clarinet, bass clarinet, all played by Saylor), and percussion (Phil Carluzzo). The music had several themes, of which the sweetest was the tinkling melody (usually in the high octaves of the piano) for MacGregor, the little creature that Bowers's character, a Scotland Yard detective, carries around in a matchbox (shown here packing its toothbrush for the trip across the Atlantic).

The evening's second film was a known classic, Laurel and Hardy's Liberty (1929), with a score by Andrew Simpson, for piano and wind instruments. In their introductions, Prof. Simpson (who teaches composition at Catholic University) and Mr. Saylor described both pieces as "works in progress," and Simpson said that he would have liked to include percussion but could not prepare the part in time. Hopefully, the two composers will have the time and opportunity in the future to revise their scores and present them in another venue beyond this workshop. Musically, both scores are certainly worth that effort. Simpson's music featured beautiful quotations of patriotic melodies during the silly review of American history, the story of liberty that is then so memorably contrasted with Laurel and Hardy, in prison stripes, booking down a street as they break out of jail. Where Saylor's score was otherworldly (in addition to a number of delightful clownish effects), Simpson's music borrowed jazzy sounds that fit perfectly with the 1920s setting. What the two composers had described as the breakneck nature of this score (marked "Frantic" and even "Dangerously" during the concluding passage with the two buffoons at the top of a skyscraper under construction, as in the image shown here) came across quite effectively, in spite of their professed performance anxiety.

Available from Amazon: More Treasures from American Film Archives: 50 Films, 1894-1931

Available from Amazon: Charley Bowers: The Rediscovery of an American Comic Genius

Available from Amazon: Lost Films of Laurel and Hardy, Vol. 3

Slatkin and the NSO Speak Austrian

Mahler's Ninth Symphony—since Bernstein's analysis seen as a gateway to modernism—was the National Symphony Orchestra's Thursday's worth of work. Leondard Slatkin took his time to introduce the work with orchestral examples, thus making a work that is still forbidding to many (or new, to the many young people in the audience) more accessible. From Mahler's "irregular heartbeat" (from which he suffered and which contributed to his death, three years later) in the first movement to references to Das Lied von der Erde, from the second movement's three waltz types to links with the second symphony, Slatkin illustrated with the NSO at hand. There was some conjecture and some of the examples may have gone over the heads of some in the audience, but making people stretch mentally is better than trying to reach a lowest common denominator, and when it came to pointing out the last movement's similarities with Bruckner's third movement from his ninth symphony I thought he had revealed a very interesting and moving connection between these otherwise so disparate composers.

I have listened to more Mahler 9ths than can be healthy over the last few weeks, all in the name of my upcoming review of Michael Tilson Thomas's latest recording. Still, I would not miss a chance to hear this bear of a work live. (There are plenty of chances to do so these days. Apart from repeat performances of the NSO today at 8.00 PM and on Sunday at 7.00 PM, Daniel Barenboim will conduct the Chicago Symphony Orchestra in Mahler 9th on May 10th at 8.00 PM in the Kennedy Center. Add to that the Peabody Symphony Orchestra at the Clarice Smith Performing Arts Center performing Mahler's Sixth Symphony on Wednesday April 27th at 8.00 pm for the total Spring-Mahler-bonanza.) Even with this flurry of performances, there still are not so many of them that we can be too picky, and the very experience of live Mahler is so overwhelming that concerns about the finer points of performance and interpretation become mute. Even the finest recorded performance cannot recreate the impact and involvement of being evolved by the Austrian's monumental sound world.

That said, I can hail the programming and the performance present, all awhile noting that, yes, there were some problems with the NSO's playing, both on an individual level and as a whole. And even Slatkin's obviously loving and caring leadership did not prevent some of the slower, sparse moments of the first movement from losing their cohesion. I have yet to be convinced that most members of the NSO (especially the string section) actually care about the music they play, much less love it, but despite that, the first movement was more than serviceable.

The second movement seemed to jibe better with everyone and was crisp, swift: downright excellent. Had someone decided to applaud it—out of ignorance or conscious dissent from our days' norm—I may have joined in, rather than sighing with ostentatious annoyance. The same goes for the third movement. Well paced, well played, and with some beautiful playing from first violist Daniel Foster. Its finale was fast and furious with the orchestra almost getting ahead of itself, as though running down hill, losing control of one's legs. No one got hurt, though, and all tumbled into a last movement that was more astounding still, for its beauty of execution. Only the very end did not quite manage to carry the preceding sway to the last notes. Tension, richness and sweeping lyricism were all there in that heart-wrenching movement, the only one in Mahler that contains something resembling relief, closure, or solution. (Hence the link to Bruckner?) In those last three movements I undoubtedly heard the best Mahler-playing from the NSO to date.

I would have recommended even a so-so performance for the chance to hear Mahler live, alone. But at this level, so much better than I could reasonably have expected, and at reduced ticket prices, it's almost a must-go.

P.S. Even if one of my equally Mahler-obsessed acquaintances disagreed ("mediocre" was his all-too-harsh verdict), I insist that this was not just good given my low expectations... it was simply good.

Mariss Jansons's DSCH-4

D.Shostakovich, Sy. No. 4, Mariss Jansons / BRSO EMI D.Shostakovich, Sy. No. 4, Rudolf Barshai / WDR SO alto

Did I not just review a Shostakovich 4th Symphony? Valery Gergiev's most recent DSCH recording (Philips) got a generally enthusiastic thumbs up, albeit with some reservations. Those reservations had to do with clarity of sound, especially where I did not find it chilly enough in what should be the harsh clang-clang of the xylophones in the first movement. I also thought it lacking in "furiosity" in the first two movements. On those accounts, I preferred Rudolf Barshai and his West German Radio Symphony Orchestra (part of their super-budget complete set on Brilliant [Ed.: now also available on a single disc]). The Largo-Allegro with its massive buildup was Gergiev's most impressive strength.

Sometimes, two different approaches can be genial but incompatible, but here I thought a combination of the two possible. Little did I know that it had already been issued, at about the same time. Can you say, "Hello, Mariss Jansons!"?

Newly anointed to helm the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra (taking over from Lorin Maazel) and the Royal Concertgebouw Amsterdam (taking over from Riccardo Chailly), he recorded the Shostakovich 4th with the former band in 2004. The result is smashing, quite literally. The first movement has almost the harsh, clear, and clean acoustic of the Brilliant recording, while at the same time keeping a richer sound for the strings. The xylophones sound like a horde of drunken skeletons playing ghastly tunes on their exposed ribcages.

Torment, accusation, and wild-eyed plowing forward are visceral at every turn of the corner in this interpretation. Come the galloping undercurrent of the Presto of the first movement at about 17 minutes, and you can positively see a demented orchestra with foam at their mouth plunging fatalistically forward. Little wonder DSCH kept the symphony in the drawer after his opera Lady Macbeth of the Mtkensk District (new productions and DVD mentioned here at Ionarts) had been criticized and he felt (rightly, we presume) only steps removed (there's a bad pun, if you think about it) from the Gulag.

When performed with all that anger, the biting, painful sarcasm, and the futile energy that the Bavarians and Jansons put into the work, the symphony becomes an indictment of whichever regime you currently hate the most. Dmitry Shostakovich could have been interned in any country after such a delivery. But it isn't just on the ferocious side that Jansons scores. In particular the softer, more "lyrical" elements of the symphony come out more than with Barshai, who (as indeed with most, if not all, Russian interpreters save Gergiev) plays out the violence throughout the entire work. With the mellow elements receiving extra care, Jansons further heightens the contrasts in this work.

The recording, not available as an SACD (this, perhaps, is Gergiev's trump [Ed. No longer, since the SACD version is oop]), has a wide range of dynamics and as such is not ideal if you have noise-sensitive neighbors. It was made to be listened to at high volume and cranking it up endows it with a fist-pumping quality that will put any death-metal aficionado to shame. If you have acquired the taste for Shostakovich's musical language (say, via his Preludes and Fugues), then you will find this symphony in this version in all its glorious rawness to be simply awesome.

As clearly as this is now my favorite version of the work, the Barshai recording surprised me once again (it should not have, since his cycle is uniformly excellent) in how well it held up against even the most formidable competition. Its sound may not have the depth of Jansons or Gergiev and the performance isn't as "visual" as the Bavarian RSO's but it's nonetheless excellent. If Gustav Mahler's symphonies are not enough of a sarcastic onslaught for you, this is your next stop in symphonic delight. After all, Mozart for Morning Meditation and Bach for Bedtime (shiver) need to be supplemented every so often with Shostakovich for Mid-Afternoon Despair!

Philips Commercial on the Acropolis

An article by Didier Kunz (L'utilisation des sites antiques à des fins commerciales divise la Grèce, April 19) for Le Monde describes the Greek government's new deal with the devil. The Greek Central Council of Archeology (KAS) has approved the sale of rights to film a worldwide commercial on the Acropolis, normally a zealously protected space these days (after centuries of terrible abuse), to the Philips Corporation. (Philips would not be getting something for nothing, since they donated materials for the new illumination of the site.) That is only the latest profit-minded decision (my translation):

Since the beginning of the year, this political shift has sparked a debate on the exploitation of ancient sites and their images for commercial ends. In January, the KAS agreed by a majority vote to grant the German car company BMV a permit to show its new cars on the parking lot that borders the Temple of Poseidon (5th c. BC) on the Sounion hill, famous for its sunsets. A representative of the leftist party (SYN), Athanasius Leventis, called out the Secretary of Culture, Petros Tatoulis, in Parliament, crying sacrilege. "We are extremely vigilant in our actions to protect our cultural heritage. However, that heritage constitutes, in our view, a development tool for our country," replied Mr. Tatoulis.

The other abuses listed in the article include a Belgian cell phone company that used an image of the Erechtheion, on the Acropolis, in which one of the Caryatides was replaced by popular model Pis. That ad was called unacceptable, as was a request to use the Stoa of Attalos, at the foot of the Acropolis, for a luxury dinner hosted by Vodafone, although it was originally approved. This is apparently not enough for the government, since the Minister of Tourism, Dimitris Avramopoulos, has just come back from a trip to Hollywood, with the plan to form a government organization to offer "all encouragement possible" to foreign producers who want to film blockbusters in Greece. The most recent decision, in fact, was to agree to such a production, Elie Chouraqui's Ô Jérusalem, based on the bestseller by Dominique Lapierre and Larry Collins, to be filmed in the medieval city of Rhodes. The article's author speculates that this may be related to the Mayor of Rhodes's plan to reconstruct the Colossus of Rhodes, one of the lost seven wonders of the world.

New Music for New Instruments in Paris

An article (Marathon de musique contemporaine à Paris, April 19) by Pierre Gervasoni for Le Monde reviews a concert of new music called L'Itinéraire de nuit, which took place at the Cité internationale universitaire de Paris on April 16. The 12-hour marathon of new music began with Canadian composer Jean-François Laporte's Vortex, written for six "flying cans," an instrument that Laporte himself invented. (Laporte is becoming known for his assortment of bizarre instruments, usually crafted out of found objects.) Here is how Gervasoni described the flying can players: "In effect spread throughout the ground and upper floors, they whirled around their heads a curious plastic can with space shuttle feet and a boomerang wing, whose rotations at the end of a string gave birth to one of the most unusual polyphonies, somewhere between a naturalistic bumblebee and a futuristic carillon." The picture shown here is, I think, an example of Laporte's flying can in action.

The concert was a project initiated (and named for) the Ensemble L'Itinéraire, which performed as one of the groups. Gervasoni also described the other pieces presented. Read the whole thing, if you read French.

Chez André Breton

An article in Libération (Visite à André Breton, April 14), which appears to have disappeared into the virtual ether, got me interested in some new resources on the self-proclaimed Pope of Surrealism. (Since Breton's death, has anyone elected himself his successor?) No matter, since there is a set of nice images there, and some other links, including to the Atelier André Breton at 42, rue Fontaine, in Paris. You will not believe what you can find there, although you will need to register with them (it's free) to look at anything other than thumbnail images. There is actually no collection anymore, if I understand the Web site correctly, as most of the materials were sold off at auction in 2003. However, the association that has made the Web site is still making images of everything available for research. There is so much, however, that it takes a while to sift through it all with the search mechanism. I am still looking for an image, which I am not sure I can even find, of the African walking stick that Breton used to own, as described by Louis Aragon in Le paysan de Paris, on their walk to the Parc des Buttes Chaumont.

The Peabody Trio's Beethoven Extravaganza

L.v.Beethoven, Piano Trios, op.70, Peabody Trio Artek

Last Friday saw the Peabody Trio's first installment of an abbreviated cycle of Ludwig van Beethoven's piano trios open with the "Kakakadu" Variations (G major, op.121a) and the trios opp. 1 (no. 1), 11, and 70 (no. 2) at the Corcoran Gallery of Art. If the excellent Frances and Armand Hammer Auditorium impresses with its intimacy and acoustics every time I hear a concert there, it would have been in vain had not the Peabody Trio done its part with a fine performance.

Natasha Brofsky (only mean-humored spirits would quip that she is to the Takács Quartet what Yoko Ono was to the Beatles, by taking away her husband Roger Tapping, as they both join the faculty at New England Conservatory) on the cello and the almost perfectly named Violaine Melançon came across with a rich and vibrant sound. Behind them, Seth Knopp worked hard on a piano, of which—at best—it can be said that its mediocrity contributed to the "authentic" chamber music feel.

The "Kakakadu" Variations are striking in that they do not only pack very easily accessible beauty (not a given with the sometimes austere late Beethoven) but also seem to contain all the true Adagio moments that that are "missing" from the other trios. (Susan Joseph's program notes explain that the core of these variations stems from as early as 1794, which may go some way in explaining at least the former of those aspects.)

The Piano Trio, op.1/1, is as splendid an official first work as any composer could hope for. Leaving the trio vernacular of his short-time teacher Haydn behind, he does so sometimes at his peril but more often than not with great success. The source of incessant off-key humming may remain unknown, but I have reason to suspect Mr. Knopp to be the culprit. If it was indeed him, he made up for it with the enthusiasm with which he salvaged Beethoven from the uncooperative Steinway baby grand. Important though was that the vigor and dedication on offer made for a very enjoyable performance of op.1, as well as the following op.11 in B-flat major.

Trio, op.70/2, in E-flat major opens broadly and with sweeping gestures in its Poco sustenuto first movement. Even after almost 90 minutes of Beethoven, the Peabody Trio still brought fresh energy to the work, and in many ways it was performed with yet greater skill and commitment than the preceding trios. The finale (Allegro) particularly, with its many teases, run-ups, and withdrawals—coy here, raw there—was ravishing. To witness such a substantial sample of Beethoven's trios (all but four are presented over the course of three concerts at the Corcoran) surely has edifying elements, but the entertainment and beauty alone would bring me back to the remaining performances. Tickets seem still to be available, and anyone with a love for Beethoven's chamber music might like to sample one of the remaining concerts. The performances will be on April 29th (Trios opp. 1, no. 3, and 70, no. 2, and Cello Sonata, op.69) and May 13th (Trios opp. 1, no. 2, and 97, the "Archduke," and Violin Sonata, op.96).

More ionarts reviews from the Corcoran

New Recording of Vivaldi's Bajazet

Available from Amazon: Antonio Vivaldi, Bajazet (1735), Europa Galante (U.S. release on May 10)

Marie-Aude Roux has a review ("Bajazet" de Vivaldi, belle première, April 18) in Le Monde of a new CD with bonus DVD. Fabio Biondi's group, Europa Galante (which released a much-praised recording of the 12 concerti in Antonio Vivaldi's Il cimento dell'armonia e dell'inventione in 2001 and several others before and since then), has recorded a little-known opera by Antonio Vivaldi, Bajazet (some excerpts available there), on the Virgin Classics/EMI label, with Ildebrando d'Arcangelo, Patrizia Ciofi, David Daniels, Elina Garanca, Vivica Genaux, and Marijana Mijanovic:

This Bajazet is a premiere twice over. If it is the first ever recording of the work, it is also the first opera recorded by Biondi with his ensemble Europa Galante and a constellation of first-rate soloists. When Bajazet was created in Verona in 1735, Neapolitan opera had dethroned the almighty Venetian opera. No one wanted to hear suave melodies and virtuoso castrati (Farinelli, Caffarelli, Carestini) anymore; composers in fashion were named Hasse, Leo, and Vinci; Vivaldi adapted to the situation by writing a pasticcio opera, which included, according to fashion, some popular arias (actually composed by Hasse, Giacomelli, and Carlo Broschi, Farinelli' brother) with all of the recitatives and the main body of the arias by the "Red Priest," who did not hesitate to recycle his own works (Giustinio, Farnace, Semiramide, Montezuma).

She found the opera itself to be of a high quality, matched by excellent singing. The cast is all mentioned as first-rate, especially Ildebrando d'Arcangelo who was "simply put, at the peak of his skills" in the title role. The DVD, she says, shows the singers in the act of recording, which is exciting. The Turkish story of Bajazet was also the subject of a tragedy by Jean Racine (Bajazet, 1672), although I don't know of any connection of that work to Vivaldi's opera. Vivaldi apparently used the same libretto, by Agostino Piovene, that Handel had used for his Tamerlano in the 1720s in London. I think that a comparison of those two operas (Tamerlano has been recorded recently by Trevor Pinnock's The English Concert) will be an interesting project. I'll report back in a few weeks.