RPO Rehearsal of An Evening in Paris

One of the benefits of donating to the RPO at a nominal level is the invitation to attend select Open Rehearsals.  In the past, I’ve tried to attend rehearsals for concerts I did not have tickets to, but this season the timing didn’t work, so the two I chose were for An Evening in Paris, to which I took my friend Linda, and one coming up in May, for Holst’s The Planets.  (Although I won’t actually be able to sit in the audience for that concert, because my choral group, Concentus, is singing the “Neptune” movement!  Unfortunately, we will be like good children at the dinner table – seen but not heard – because of Holst’s very specific instructions:  the chorus is "to be placed in an adjoining room, the door of which is to be left open until the last bar of the piece, when it is to be slowly and silently closed.”)

This rehearsal, with guest conductor Fabien Gabel, was practically a private performance – we heard all of the pieces on the upcoming program.  There were no more than a handful of us in attendance, so we had our choice of seats, with no one blocking our view or fighting over the armrests.  A friend’s husband admitted that regular performances are wasted on him; the late hour, the dimmed lights and the lack of visual stimulation make them expensive naps.  At a rehearsal, however, with the lights up and no admonishment regarding smart phones (although they still ought to be in 'silent' mode and one should refrain from recording audio or video!), you can google the guest artist, for example, and learn that he plays “the 1708 ‘Ruby’ Antonio Stradivari violin, which is on loan to him through the Stradivari Society” (wikipedia).

Fabien Gabel is a very athletic and expressive conductor, and his rolled up sleeves gave us a view of his muscular arms.  He used his whole body to conduct, moving around the podium, sometimes almost kneeling to signal the orchestra to decrescendo, other times bending down and leaning forward as if he were lifting up the sound.  He only had to shush the musicians a couple of times during breaks, but it was reassuring to realize that chatting at rehearsals isn’t limited to amateur groups. Gabel let the orchestra play each movement in its entirety before selecting passages to review.  And mostly what he repeated and corrected was too subtle for me to comprehend (and because he had his back to the hall as he addressed the musicians, you could only catch a hint of his intent, in his lovely French accent).  I suspect most of the upcoming performance audience wouldn’t know the difference, either, but obviously both the conductor and orchestra are striving for their vision of perfection.

Chagall curtain for New York City Ballet's Firebird

Two pieces struck me in particular.  First, Stravinsky’s Firebird Suite.  I am familiar with this piece mostly from seeing the New York City Ballet production so many times.  But divorced from the dancing and Chagall's scenery and costumes, I was hearing it afresh, and focusing on the music, without visual distraction. I also suspect that the conductor is able to pay more attention to nuances in the score than the Ballet Orchestra, and has more latitude with tempos, since he isn’t conducting to choreography.  The second was Ravel’s Tzigane, which I wasn’t familiar with, but even without a program, it was clear that this was ‘gypsy’ music.  The guest violinist, Phillippe Quint, made this piece come alive, and I am glad to be able to hear him again this weekend (and to watch him; in addition to being extremely talented, he’s very easy on the eyes…).  I wish that he had a recording of this piece, since I can see it becoming a favorite of mine (I’ll have to content myself with my CD of Itzhak Perlman and the New York Philharmonic, which I just discovered I own).

I’m looking forward to sharing the actual performance with my husband and a darkened hall filled with people, and am excited to watch Gabel and Quint when they have the benefit of an audience to play to.  It’s chilling to sit in a concert hall, listening to live music as the sound diminishes and you have to strain to hear it.  There’s no way to duplicate this experience in the normal living room from a recording.  

Isn’t it warm? Isn’t it rosy? Side-by-Side with the RPO

The first thing I did when I read about the Side-by-Side concert at the RPO was forward the information to fellow Concentus-singer, and oboist, Johanna, who was probably too busy with her day-to-day life to apply. The second thing I did was call to get tickets (which were free, with a suggested donation).  This is exactly the sort of creative community outreach that is needed to increase awareness of the orchestra, and to encourage amateur musicians, young and old, to participate in music as a passion, if not a profession. 

Charlie Owens, the President & CEO of the RPO, introduced the performance, as the first of what he hoped would be many Side-by-Side concerts.  Of the roughly 200 applicants, 115 musicians were selected (mostly from the Rochester/Buffalo/Syracuse area).  Deputy Mayor Leonard Redon, who represented the city of Rochester (which must have underwritten part of the performance, to allow the tickets to be free), reiterated Charlie’s hope of making this an annual event.  He reminded us that there is a lot of musical talent in our area, and this provides a great opportunity for those selected to perform with our cultural treasure.

The balcony was cordoned off, and the mezzanine was pretty full, so my friend Gwen and I found seats in the orchestra near a group of family/friends of one of the community bassists.  They were very excited to hear their dad/uncle/friend play, and listened attentively. Interestingly, the concert began with three largely unfamiliar pieces performed solely by the RPO (it probably would have been too daunting for the non-professionals to learn a full concert’s worth of music in the limited rehearsal time).  There was a refreshing air of informality, and it was delightful to see some of the more expressive violinists smiling and clearly enjoying the Waltz movement of Khachaturian’s Masquerade.  Paul Shewan, the conductor, even tolerated and acknowledged the applause after each movement.

After the intermission, Gwen lured me to the forbidden balcony, so we would have a better view of the stage.  The first group of community members joined the orchestra for two pieces, and none of them looked nervous.  The 100+ musicians created a wonderful full sound that resonated in the hall.  They didn’t get the kind of standing ovation that the second group did, for no reason other than the logistics of trading places. (Perhaps next time, they might have just the community members stand for acknowledgement.)  I only recognized one name on the program – Mona Seghatoleslami (violist, and WXXI classical radio host), but of course Gwen recognized several, and even had a chance to chat with one after the performance (the first group had joined us in the balcony).

I always wished I could play an instrument, but mostly in that way you wish to excel at something you’re not actually willing to work at…  I took enough piano and organ lessons as a child to understand that I didn’t have any of the characteristics required even to make an instrument a hobby.  So I’ve always admired the talent, commitment, and versatility of professional musicians (because many of them are proficient in more than one instrument).  I’m equally in awe of those who have chosen more ‘practical’ professions, but who harbor hidden talents.  What a thrill it must be for them to have this chance to share the stage with the RPO, and to bask in an audience’s applause. I predict that next year, there will be even more applicants, and the audience size wouldn’t be diminished if there were a nominal ticket charge!

Memorial Art Gallery

Too Fast…

The first time I visited this museum two years ago, to check it out with my husband, we breezed through in about 30 minutes. We were impressed with the breadth of art; there’s a little bit of everything on the two small floors. Our conclusion was that it was a charming community museum – good for taking visitors to for an hour, at best.  We didn’t linger in any of the rooms, or focus on many of the particular works – it was more of a ‘drive by.’ 

Too Slow?

So when my friend Nanette later visited from Florida, I figured it would be a good place to drag her on a rainy Sunday afternoon.  There was one particular installation I wanted her to see – Devorah Sperber’s work consisting of 4596 spools of thread, which, when viewed through an acrylic ball, inverts and focuses to become Grant Wood’s American Gothic (it reminded me of a similar trick we used to view a painting at the Dali Museum in St. Petersburg).

Three hours and an organ recital later (including the opportunity to work the bellows – the original Stairmaster?), I changed my assessment, having fallen in love with several of the works, particularly Alison Saar’s Maquette for “Swing Low” – a statue of Harriet Tubman, represented as the train of the Underground Railroad, complete with a cowcatcher petticoat and a skirt decorated with faces and belongings of runaway slaves.  The statue especially resonated as Nanette and I had just visited Harriet Tubman’s house in Auburn earlier that week. 

And Fritz Trautmann’s Galaxy, a hypnotic painting of spheres that uses no black paint.  (I was so captivated by this painting that I remarked about it to another friend, Luci, who bought me the jigsaw puzzle.  When I began, I cavalierly thought it would be easy, based on the distribution of colors. Not!  Doing the puzzle gave me a renewed appreciation for the painting, because sorting through the pieces, looking for a specific color, made me wonder: when does yellow become so light that it appears white? or so dark that it wanders into orange, or brown? I knew when I finished it, I’d have to glue and hang it…)

And the works by the talented Wendell Castle, a local artist, including the whimsical outdoor Unicorn Family.

And the double-sided painting by Georgia O’Keefe (it’s fascinating to ponder her unfinished abstract, and wonder why she abandoned it.  I much prefer it to the more boring finished side!).

Just Right!

On a recent Sunday, I returned alone, to visit at my own pace. Since everyone appreciates art differently, and appreciates different art, I sometimes feel pressured either to speed up (when I’m more interested in a particular painting or genre than a companion) or slow down (when I’m in a room of religious paintings or artifacts with someone who actually likes them).  I visited my favorites (they're like friends to me, now), and added a few more to the list, including Seer Bonnet XVI, by Angela Ellsworth, who used corsage pins to create a symbol of her rejection of Mormonism.  

I timed my visit so I could enjoyed the organ recital (to have a listen, click here).  The music resonated throughout the second floor, and was a lovely accompaniment to my contemplation of the Impressionists.  And I spent a few minutes outside, admiring George Rickey’s stainless steel sculpture (we had a similar sculpture at Middlebury College, outside the music building, so I always associated it with a tuning fork), and am even warming to the Creation Myth sculptures (I love that it’s the woman creating the man!) by Tom Otterness, who overcame his own “curious incident of the dog…”

I look forward to the next time I have company and being able to share my 'new friends' with my old ones!

RPO - Cirque de la Symphonie

As part of the ‘pops series’ of the RPO, this past weekend’s performances featured “the gravity-defying artists of Cirque de la Symphonie,… (with) amazing aerialists, acrobats, contortionists, jugglers, strongmen, and more!”  While the RPO, like many orchestras around the country, is struggling with anemic attendance and an aging audience base, it is also open to innovation, especially on the pops programs.  This concert made me wonder whether the Cirque de la Symphonie was accompanying the RPO or the other way around, and whether it even mattered, as long as the house was full.  If adding visual effects (whether acrobats, dancers, or movies) sells more tickets, and gets more people exposed to live classical music (even if their focus isn’t on the music and the musicians), isn’t that a good thing? 

We attended the sold-out performance with our friends Lisa & Paul, who are pops subscribers (whereas Charlie and I pick and choose from both the pops and classical series).  I had always thought of pops concerts as ‘classical lite’:  melodic, less complex music (much of it from musical theatre or film scores) by 20^th century composers (John Williams immediately comes to mind).  This performance had a mix of pieces, though, including some by composers who more regularly appear on a traditional classical orchestra program.  Yes, there were two pieces by Williams; the first was a rarely performed piece from The Witches of Eastwick that had hints of Harry Potter themes to come.  And there was the gorgeous and lush overture to Candide, by Leonard Bernstein.  But there were also pieces by Brahms, de Falla, Rimsky-Korsakov, Smetana, Strauss and Tchaikovsky!  I suspect that the audience didn’t even notice, and in fact enjoyed the music (and it was a treat to watch Juliana Athayde, violinist and concertmaster, bouncing in her chair to punctuate her passages in the Smetana piece).

I thought I recognized at least one of the cirque performers from the Cirque du Fringe in September, and they were more incredible to watch on this large stage (and less bawdy – different crowd…).  The musicians also enjoyed watching them when they could take their eyes off of their scores, and they didn’t seem distracted at all by the frequent applause for the cirque acts, at points that bore no relation to the music.  As always, Jeff Tyzik, the conductor, addressed the audience periodically, and reminded us how lucky we are to have such a professional orchestra in our community.

Classical music is no different than business, technology, or animal species, which, when faced with changes in their environment, must adapt or die.  We have a tendency to think that the way things are now is the way they always were and always will be.  But today’s classical concert etiquette, for example - audience silence and refraining from applause until directed by the conductor - was not always the norm.  In the eighteenth century it wouldn’t have been uncommon for concertgoers to talk during performances, or applaud immediately at particularly pleasing passages.  Today’s orchestras must continue to evolve, to appeal to a generation for whom single-tasking (just sitting and listening to music?) is anathema.  Change is hard, so kudos to Jeff Tyzik and the RPO for realizing and reacting to this need.