All for one, Part I
An interesting week, marred a bit by jet-lag (Honolulu - Minneapolis - Philadelphia in the span of 3 days, a bit rough, but scheduling a vacation in the middle of a busy summer season is my own choice!).
First up, on Wednesday, was "Broadway Rocks", with a quartet of Broadway singers and the Minnesota Chorale. It's always fun to work with people who know exactly what they're doing, and all four singers in this show certainly fit the bill. Truth be told, I love Broadway stuff, no matter how schlocky it can get, and although "Music of the Night" can get a little tiresome (this was the 20th time I've done it, in its many guises), it's still a hoot to perform it with a singer who has the timing down cold (in this case, Doug Labrecque). It's also fun for the members of the Orchestra who are called upon to play outside of their usual box, as bassist Dave Williamson, playing electric bass for the show, did.
Pops shows like this are, without doubt, much trickier to produce than a usual subscription week. When I've tried to explain this to non-industry people, I'm always met with surprise, because audiences consider it to be "lighter" fare - isn't it then easier to put together? But here's the lowdown; the music played in Pops shows is usually arranged, written in a manner different from the standard classical repertoire (I'm often reading off of a piano/vocal score with chord changes and basic instrumental cues written in), often involves adjusting to a different style of music and to soloists who, quite literally, use a different vocabulary to discuss what we're doing (it's "the bridge after verse two" for the singers, 17 bars after rehearsal letter "F" for the orchestra). We're usually on an incredibly tight rehearsal schedule (we had a 2 1/2 hour rehearsal - with 20-minute break, of course - to get through 90 minutes of music). And often, it's a one-shot deal as there's only one performance (the second performance of anything is so much more relaxed and enjoyable!!!).
All that being said, I thrive on the thrill of tight scheduling, barely-controlled chaos during the show and having the chance to think outside of the classical box. And as the packed Hall and screaming standing ovation evinced, there are a lot of people out there who enjoyed it as well.
The Orchestra generally is good-humored about their forays outside the realm of Beethoven and Brahms, although there are certainly those who grumble (sometimes a bit vociferously). Orchestra musicians on the whole have very mixed feelings about these kinds of performances, mostly because, when faced with a chart from, say, Andrew Lloyd Webber or Elvis Costello or Tiempo Libre, there is a certain discomfort in that it is not the type of music they were trained to play. Some look at pop or rock or Broadway or salsa as somehow below their training and talent, a sentiment I can appreciate, being a product of conservatory inculcation myself; for better or for worse, in school I was constantly reminded of how rarefied my chosen studies were. In fact, sometime this past season, as I was about to take the stage for yet another Pops show, an Orchestra player sidled up to me and asked, quite sardonically, "So, this is what you went to Curtis for, right?"
To which I would reply, yes, it is. Because my rigorous conservatory education gave me the solid foundation of theory and orchestration and analysis and technique to approach any kind of music without trepidation. And because that solid foundation gives me the ability to bring a great deal of skill to all types of music, whether it was specifically included in my training or not. I recently met with a prominent New York public relations specialist who confirmed for me what I have believed for years; non-classical concerts (whether we call them "Pops" or "collaborations" or "special events" or whatever) are a sovereign entity unto themselves, a category of orchestral music-making that should be well-produced and of high quality. They are most often the biggest draws (and thus money-makers) in an organization's season, and they are the productions which then have the capacity to balance out the less populist (and perhaps more artistically interesting for the orchestra - I'm thinking Mahler 9) concerts. And we should all approach these presentations as a legitimate and significant part of an orchestra's output.
Classical musicians tend to be elitist; it's a part of our training. But I think this attitude does not in any way stand us good stead, particularly as we see the symphonic world slowly trending away from the straight "classical" concert as the only model of performance. If I call myself a musician, I should have the ability to understand and appreciate music as a whole, not just my (very small) corner of it. We all have our preferences (I'm not a huge country fan, granted, but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate the skillful way a song is put together or the ingenious tunefulness of a melody), but this cannot prevent us from acknowledging the legitimacy of other forms of music. Because, as musicians, we should all be in this together.
First up, on Wednesday, was "Broadway Rocks", with a quartet of Broadway singers and the Minnesota Chorale. It's always fun to work with people who know exactly what they're doing, and all four singers in this show certainly fit the bill. Truth be told, I love Broadway stuff, no matter how schlocky it can get, and although "Music of the Night" can get a little tiresome (this was the 20th time I've done it, in its many guises), it's still a hoot to perform it with a singer who has the timing down cold (in this case, Doug Labrecque). It's also fun for the members of the Orchestra who are called upon to play outside of their usual box, as bassist Dave Williamson, playing electric bass for the show, did.
Pops shows like this are, without doubt, much trickier to produce than a usual subscription week. When I've tried to explain this to non-industry people, I'm always met with surprise, because audiences consider it to be "lighter" fare - isn't it then easier to put together? But here's the lowdown; the music played in Pops shows is usually arranged, written in a manner different from the standard classical repertoire (I'm often reading off of a piano/vocal score with chord changes and basic instrumental cues written in), often involves adjusting to a different style of music and to soloists who, quite literally, use a different vocabulary to discuss what we're doing (it's "the bridge after verse two" for the singers, 17 bars after rehearsal letter "F" for the orchestra). We're usually on an incredibly tight rehearsal schedule (we had a 2 1/2 hour rehearsal - with 20-minute break, of course - to get through 90 minutes of music). And often, it's a one-shot deal as there's only one performance (the second performance of anything is so much more relaxed and enjoyable!!!).
All that being said, I thrive on the thrill of tight scheduling, barely-controlled chaos during the show and having the chance to think outside of the classical box. And as the packed Hall and screaming standing ovation evinced, there are a lot of people out there who enjoyed it as well.
The Orchestra generally is good-humored about their forays outside the realm of Beethoven and Brahms, although there are certainly those who grumble (sometimes a bit vociferously). Orchestra musicians on the whole have very mixed feelings about these kinds of performances, mostly because, when faced with a chart from, say, Andrew Lloyd Webber or Elvis Costello or Tiempo Libre, there is a certain discomfort in that it is not the type of music they were trained to play. Some look at pop or rock or Broadway or salsa as somehow below their training and talent, a sentiment I can appreciate, being a product of conservatory inculcation myself; for better or for worse, in school I was constantly reminded of how rarefied my chosen studies were. In fact, sometime this past season, as I was about to take the stage for yet another Pops show, an Orchestra player sidled up to me and asked, quite sardonically, "So, this is what you went to Curtis for, right?"
To which I would reply, yes, it is. Because my rigorous conservatory education gave me the solid foundation of theory and orchestration and analysis and technique to approach any kind of music without trepidation. And because that solid foundation gives me the ability to bring a great deal of skill to all types of music, whether it was specifically included in my training or not. I recently met with a prominent New York public relations specialist who confirmed for me what I have believed for years; non-classical concerts (whether we call them "Pops" or "collaborations" or "special events" or whatever) are a sovereign entity unto themselves, a category of orchestral music-making that should be well-produced and of high quality. They are most often the biggest draws (and thus money-makers) in an organization's season, and they are the productions which then have the capacity to balance out the less populist (and perhaps more artistically interesting for the orchestra - I'm thinking Mahler 9) concerts. And we should all approach these presentations as a legitimate and significant part of an orchestra's output.
Classical musicians tend to be elitist; it's a part of our training. But I think this attitude does not in any way stand us good stead, particularly as we see the symphonic world slowly trending away from the straight "classical" concert as the only model of performance. If I call myself a musician, I should have the ability to understand and appreciate music as a whole, not just my (very small) corner of it. We all have our preferences (I'm not a huge country fan, granted, but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate the skillful way a song is put together or the ingenious tunefulness of a melody), but this cannot prevent us from acknowledging the legitimacy of other forms of music. Because, as musicians, we should all be in this together.
Labels: music education, orchestra culture, state of the art
posted by Sarah at
3:11 PM
8 Comments:
Classical musicians tend to be elitist; it's a part of our training.
And this is a bad thing, is it?
Think again, please.
ACD
If the players are less understanding and skilled when it comes to music outside the traditional repertoire, perhaps they should be paid less for those performances.
First off, I’m going to assume that the question above is serious, so I’ll give it a serious response.
Yes, A.C., I do think musical elitism is “a bad thing”. In it’s simplest sense, musical elitism implies an overarching superiority encompassing the entire art form, which would be acceptable only if it were even remotely true.
I remember one night a few years back at a festival which shall remain unnamed in which I made a wager with a composer who many would recognize (who shall also remain unnamed). At the time Eminem was huge, and he was an unusual character not just because he was the rare white rapper who could actually rap, but because he had unique rhythmic habits in his rhyme flow. I challenged the composer to notate both the rhythm and the stresses/rhymes of a track off the album. To make a long story short, the composer laughed and scoffed at the ease of the task, then proceeded to take the last three weeks of the festival trying to notate the pattern correctly. In the end, I won the bet.
I also think of the fact that most classical musicians, when asked to improvise, would be put to utter shame by a fledgling jazz student. Improvisation was certainly a prominent aspect of our training in centuries past, but in the present, this significant skill is sadly lacking. Furthermore, most classical musicians would have merely a vague idea of what a jazz scale is, while any jazzer worth their salt I’ve met has fully mastered (and pretty early on in their training, I might add) every possible scale that I’ve learned in my classical upbringing.
So, “elite” classical training does not necessarily allow us to completely understand (much less master) all other forms of music. So much for elitism.
If the implication of this comment is that elitism should be a part of a classical musician’s training because classical music itself is empirically elite, this is the sort of attitude of Euro-centric cultural superiority that makes me a bit wary. It’s fine to think that classical music is one’s preferred type of music (to play or to listen to), and that, for an individual, it’s a favorite. I don’t think that it makes it any “better”, or culturally or socially superior.
Does it require more formalized training than other types of music? Maybe; certainly there are vapid pop stars out there who couldn’t explain a chord change if you whispered it in their ear. But then again, there’s Pavarotti, who couldn’t sight-sing.
Is it the most stringent and disciplined kind of training? Maybe; certainly the level of knowledge the average professional classical musician has amassed between lessons and practicing and coaching is tremendous. But then again, I think of what a young shamisen player needs to do to become a member of the Bunraku Theater in Osaka, which includes apprenticing with a shamisen master (often living with them) and following their every move for a decade.
Are classical musicians the most technically accomplished? Maybe; certainly any member of a professional orchestra has achieved a very high technical level. But then again, I’ve often seen jazz artists come in where most members of the orchestra are craning their neck to see just how they’re doing the impossible-sounding lick at the front of the stage.
I don’t mean to be long-winded, but this is a topic I feel quite strongly about. I’m unapologetic about my disciplined, traditional and accomplished musical training, both as a composer at Harvard and a conductor at Curtis. I’m proud of my schooling. I love classical music. But would I claim elitism? Do I think I’m musically superior? Is classical music better than all other kinds of music (and to me, elitism is dangerous in that it skirts the edge of other feelings of “superiority” – religious, cultural)? In my book, for myself, no.
Just to be clear, the first "sarah" comment is not by one of the authors of this blog.
This comment has been removed by the author.
This comment has been removed by the author.
First off, I’m going to assume that the question above is serious, so I’ll give it a serious response.
Yes indeed. Dead serious. Your position betrays more than a modicum of the post-'60s/populist/postmodern mindset that holds cultural (as opposed to social) elitism to be second only to pedophilia in opprobriousness. When folks with your educational background and training — and within that class of folk they're legion today — buy into that imbecile notion, it's no wonder that the vulgar shallowness of pop culture and of pop-cultural thinking has today managed to infiltrate and infest the entire domain of so-called high culture (so-called to distinguish it from the pop sort), even to the point of being considered on equal aesthetic footing with and even indistinguishable from it in depth and importance. It's positively grotesque.
As to your,
If the implication of this comment is that elitism should be a part of a classical musician’s training because classical music itself is empirically elite, this is the sort of attitude of Euro-centric cultural superiority that makes me a bit wary.
A bit wary? Wary of what, exactly? Classical music is now, has always been, and will always be a most decidedly elite enterprise by it very nature, and no manifestly tendentious postmodern revisionist thinking to the contrary can alter that. To quote myself at some length on the matter (this from a 2004 article on Sounds & Fury titled, "An Audience For Classical Music"),
During the past decade or so, one has read often of attempts made by various classical (or "serious", or "art") music entities — symphony orchestras, chamber groups, recital organizers, even opera companies — to gain a larger audience for their "product", and it's nothing short of depressing to observe that, virtually without exception, they've all, to greater or lesser degree, pursued a model that's not merely wrongheaded, but positively suicidal. That model, in keeping with the rabidly populist and promiscuously equalitarian Zeitgeist of our era, and using promotional techniques employed in the world of mass entertainment, has at its core the concept of reaching out to The People; or using less euphemistic and less generous terminology, prole pandering. While such a concept is perfectly appropriate and spot-on in the world of mass entertainment, it's an ultimate kiss of death in the world of classical music for the simple and should-be (but astonishingly, largely isn't) obvious reason that, much as one wishes it were not the case, classical music is not, nor has it ever been, nor will it ever even marginally be, an object of mass or even widespread appeal no matter how vigorously and assiduously it may be promoted. Classical music is, by its very nature, a fundamentally elite enterprise, and should never be viewed or promoted as anything other.
One of the pernicious aims of the current leveling Zeitgeist is the dissolution of all hierarchies, both natural and culturally determined without distinction. While that aim is doomed ultimately to failure, the casualties it will produce — has already produced — along its doomed way will take whole generations to restore to good health, provided, that is, the casualties have not been utterly destroyed by the murderous onslaught.
And why is the aim of the current leveling Zeitgeist doomed ultimately to failure? Because hierarchies are essential to the well-being of Homo sapiens. There's just no getting around it. It's in our DNA as it's in the DNA of all living things. And in the hierarchy of music, classical music, by every meaningful aesthetic measure, occupies the very highest level; one distinct from all other levels, platitudinous and pernicious equalitarian pap such as the following from a professional classical music critic, who more than most ought to know better, notwithstanding. Wrote this classical music critic (who, as an act of charity, I leave nameless):
"Music is a very broad river, into which many streams flow. Classical is only one of those streams. It has particular virtues other kinds of music don't have, but then they have virtues of their own."
Bypassing the lame imagery of the metaphor that has music as a river rather than the vast, life-nourishing sea it is, classical music is not merely "one of [music's] streams," but music's very apotheosis; the one instantiation of music that alone is capable of subsuming and transfiguring all of music's other instantiations.
Does any of this mean I think pop culture and pop music have no aesthetic cultural place in this world? Hardly. But rather than take up any more of your bandwidth than I already have, I instead refer you to another article on Sounds & Fury titled, "A Call For A Return To Hierarchal Sobriety", which addresses all of this matter at some length. It can be read here.
ACD
I don't know, AC. I'm all for distinguishing - loudly - between good music and mindless garbage, but I don't think it follows that reflexively claiming classical music to be superior is a reasonable position to take. Yes, most of the pop music you can hear on the radio or see on MTV is awful. But most of the classical music that gets played on the radio is lightweight stuff, too. One of the points Sarah and I have made repeatedly on this blog is that the live music experience is irreplaceable, and that expecting the mass media to do our salesmanship for us is naive.
I think you and Sarah are actually closer in opinion than you seem to think. Her post in no way promotes the sort of mealy-mouthed all-music-is-equal dogma that you've accused her of peddling. She's merely saying that orchestras can play other types of good music besides symphonies, and that we shouldn't feel that playing such concerts, if they're good concerts, is a threat to our core offerings.
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