Music....it's all about listening....

Arrived in Boston this week and have already been blest by great weather (expectations aside) and an exciting concert experience: 17 year old pianist George Li (who is rapidly assuming superstar status nationwide and abroad) performed the Schumann Piano Concerto with the Boston Philharmonic Youth Orchestra under its renowned  conductor, educator, author and motivational speaker, Benjamin Zander.

It was gratifying that a young pianist with such "technique to burn" would choose to perform a less "flashy" and more poetic work like the Schumann. Mr Li, a recent winner of the Young Concerts Artists prize definitely does possess a maturity of approach and performance well beyond his years. His interpretation of the Schumann was placed strongly on the more straightforward,  masculine end of the spectrum for this popular work. There were times I wished for more variety in his use of tone colors or phrase shapes/destinations, and I hope that in time he will become more sensitive to the nuances of harmonic colors or key changes, and their role in defining what makes any individual piece of music unique. But having said all of that, Mr. Li's performance of the first movement cadenza was possibly the best I have ever heard.

His humility (during numerous bows before a hometown crowd in a standing ovation) was gratifying to observe, and his performance of a slow, poetic Chopin encore was absolutely spellbinding and masterful. It had all of the tone colors and nuances that I had wished to hear a bit more of in the Schumann, so perhaps this confirms that his (or his teacher's) view of the Schumann is more "classical" than "romantic" and he perhaps chose deliberately a rather Bach-like robustness. This school of thought definitely exists, but having performed the work myself around the world and coached it in masterclasses of maybe 14 or so music conservatories, my own personal belief is that without a more sensitive alternation of gentleness, light and phrase destinations, the Schumann concerto can get very repetitive in some passages despite its greatness.

For the second half of the ambitious (and long!!!) three hour program, the BPYO was joined by assembled choirs and two internationally known vocal soloists, to perform Mahler's Symphony No2, "The Resurrection".
I was surprised by several things. First of all, the choice of soloists. To quote the BYPO's own program notes by David St George: "Mahler specifically stipulated that the singer of this song ["Urlicht"] use "the tone and vocal expression of a child who thinks he is in heaven". There was nothing inherently wrong with the vocal soloist(s) but those booked for this performance had very heavy vibratos and very "angst" ridden emotional portrayals that most definitely did not sound either childlike or heavenlike. So it simply seemed an odd choice of soloists if one wanted to follow Mahler's wishes.
The second surprise was the program itself - combining a very long Mahler symphony (which can often suffice as a complete concert program all in its own right) with a relatively long piano concerto.
Youth orchestras don't often play complete Mahler Symphonies, but especially not immediately following a performance of the orchestral parts of the Schumann Piano Concerto - which the BYPO players did to a very high standard indeed. So it was astounding that they had the physical stamina, let alone the mental or musical concentration, to continue with this lengthy and powerful Mahler symphony. The results were (rather understandably) uneven, but there many great moments, as well -  and I kept thinking how fortunate these young talented players were, to have this perhaps life-changing experience of learning and performing the Mahler 2nd, live, at such a young age.

And for the audience members as well - judging from mistimed applause that interrupted or rattled the young performers at times, it seemed that for a fair proportion of the audience of relatives and friends, this was perhaps also their first time experiencing this monumental work. So it was exciting to be there in the midst of it all, like witnessing a child's first taste of ice cream or an adult's first sight of the ocean. A young woman (maybe 19 or 20?) next to me was fidgeting constantly, flipping the pages of her program instead of reading it, while her boyfriend (?) next to her was totally rapt and obviously knew players on the stage - one could see him sort of vacillating between feeling sorry for his bored companion, or feeling regret for bringing her if she couldn't share his enthusiasm, or wishing he could find a way to help this powerful work to enter and engage her spirit. The Mahler 2nd has an undeniable power that sweeps all audiences to their feet, and this performance, especially by such young and exhausted players, was (almost) no exception.....with the one hold-out being that same young female next to me. She had the honesty to remain seated as a testimony to her bewilderment or boredom or dislike or all of the above. And I am sure Mahler would have approved of that honesty too.

An internationally known musician sat to my left, and her first comment afterwards was how much she would dearly love to create some serious cuts/edits in the Mahler 2nd, saying that orchestral musicians often discuss how amenable this particular work is for finding some relatively easy cuts without damaging the power or the overall message, due to its harmonic structure and repeated thematic segments. (Takers, anyone? ) Shortening the work would obviously make it less taxing to perform, whether by youth or experienced professionals. But the BYPO musicians did a very creditable job technically, with special kudos going to the cellos, the concert mistress, and the confident brass, horns, and woodwinds.

The main surprise we (the musician to my left and I) had both noticed was that none of the players seemed to be trained to focus on listening to each other as an absolute first priority of being an orchestral musician. Each section played its solo or part in its own rhythm and mood without any apparent understanding of how it fit into the whole or how it then dovetailed or answered a previous phrase played by another section. It could be that this was simply a symptom of the number of rehearsals a massive work like the Mahler would have required, and they needed to focus on technical and ensemble issues in the weeks that they had till performance day. One could tell that they all loved and trusted their conductor Maestro Zander to be the chef, take their individually prepared ingredients, and then produce the completed cake. But the BYPO is a tremendous youth orchestra and it can only get better, so one shares this suggestion in a positive way - listening to each other is a habit built in the first moments of the first rehearsal of any new work, whether easy or difficult, and it has to be insisted on and demanded by all beloved conductors. Training orchestras that succeed most in this one specific aspect - like the Shepherd School of Music orchestra at Rice under Larry Rachleff - are renowned for producing the top orchestral players of the next generation and the most riveting, "together" performances of any piece, by any age of players.

But back to the concert at hand - the gorgeous, elegant ambiance of Boston's Symphony Hall added to the "special-ness" of the occasion, and it is difficult to say whether the principal star was the pianist George Li or the courageous and generous players of this technically excellent orchestra in such a challenging program. The packed hall was full of truly ecstatic and inspired music listeners, and I heard several different audience members commenting as they departed that it was the best concert of the BYPO - and indeed of any they had attended anywhere -  in a very long time. In retrospect, it is really all about listening....the players listening to each other, audience members listening to something for the first time, a young but mature piano soloist inviting us to listen to every note as if it was a word.....music is special that way...and it's all about listening for the life and the message that lies within.

between heaven and earth: Mahler's Resurrection Symphony in San Francisco this evening

This blog is called "Pomoja" precisely because it was intended to discuss some of the ways that music can "unify" people, causes, cultures, or disparate groups in a shared goal or experience. For those of you who have never had the exhilarating and unifying experience of being present amongst a huge audience during a live performance of the Mahler Second ("Resurrection") Symphony, my enthusiastic recommendation would be "just GO!"

And if you ever have the opportunity of hearing Maestro Michael Tilson Thomas conduct this special Mahler work with the San Francisco Symphony (joined by the San Francisco Symphony Chorus and guest soloists) then my enthusiasm would turn to urgent pleading: "you HAVE to go!".
Which is exactly what I was fortunate enough to do, just this evening.

The only unfortunate part, in my personal opinion (but also that of the audience members around me whom I talked to), was that the performance took place in Davies Symphony Hall, the home of the San Francisco Symphony for many years now, which has acoustic and ambiance issues that diminished the experience a bit for those of us who happened to be seated in sections that are beneath balcony "overhangs".
When one has been fortunate to hear a beloved work (such as this Mahler Symphony is for me)in many different halls worldwide, it is impossible not to "compare" the overall affect of the experience and ambiance in each location. This evening I tried very hard not to compare some very memorable experiences in much larger halls - with stages that could accommodate choruses 2-3 times the size of tonight's excellent (but less powerful) ensemble, where the sound of the timpani and brass threatened to blow the roof off the building, and the close of the work found the entire chorus, orchestra and audience in visible tears because the ambiance and structure of the hall assisted in creating that unified moving experience.

Because I feel strongly that the San Francisco Symphony's conductor Michael Tilson Thomas (known affectionately as MTT in these parts) is the greatest living conductor/interpreter of Mahler, I went to Davies Hall tonight hopefully expecting an equally memorable and spiritually uplifting experience. The fact that this did not quite happen in spite of MTT's (and the orchestra's) brilliance of execution and affinity for the composer, was most probably due, I suspect, to a couple of things: 1) this Friday evening concert began at 6:30 so that city workers could attend before going home - great idea but I wonder if the orchestra was still a bit emotionally exhausted from the regular 8pm performance of the work the night before, and not quite "warmed up" to this slightly unusual start time? 2) as mentioned earlier, our being seated under the overhang of a balcony, which dampened a lot of the power and "immediacy" of the orchestra's live sound, making their presence on the stage feel more emotively distant and less personally involved (as my seat neighbors also remarked)...and 3)again in comparing experiences (even subconsciously), I could not help but be amazed at the amount of noise and distracting movement going on throughout the audience in general - constant coughing (but some folks seemed to save it up for the most important silences in particular), rustling of programs or throat candy wrappers, shifting in squeaky seats, etc...in contrast, as I mentioned, I have heard this piece performed live in halls 2-3 times the size, where one could have literally "heard a pin drop" throughout the entire symphony. Obviously I am not sure if this was due to the hall acoustics actually being excellent in the wrong direction, or to the current cough bugs inhabiting San Francisco, or if Friday evening audiences are restless in particular, or all of the above....
So- having digressed a bit to describe my own slight personal disappointments vs expectations, am I still urging and begging you to go? Absolutely! And if you happen to be in San Francisco area this weekend, March 13 or 14, DO go to Davies Symphony Hall and try anything you can to beg, buy or steal a ticket for the two remaining performances of this symphony (just don't get seats beneath the overhangs!)

Why? Partly the piece.....and partly the conductor.
In my opinion and that of many of my musician colleagues, MTT is rightfully referred to as "Gustav Mahler incarnate". When MTT walks out on stage to conduct Mahler, one almost feels that discussions of his "interpretations" seem perhaps an irrelevant or even inaccurate assumption, because the phrasing, orchestral shading, rhythmic nuance, dynamic contrasts - and above all, the emotion in the perfectly-timed "silent pauses" - all seem to flow naturally from within, as if Mahler were there, composing and conducting it, all at the same time.
And that was certainly true this evening as well. As previously mentioned, I have been fortunate to hear this work in live performances with many recognized Mahler conductors, and of course in countless recorded versions. But I have never, before tonight, been made so effortlessly aware of tiny distinct details that revealed emotive changes and personality characteristics within each phrase, each color, each instrumental section and each thematic change of direction.

The performance of the first movement in particular gave entirely new meaning to the concept of "story telling" in music. The opening phrase was perfectly crafted both technically and emotionally, raising a question and suspense before an entire cast and characters seemed to appear in bold colors or sinister shadows. The care and tenderness that MTT lavished on the lyrical phrases was so heartbreakingly beautiful as to be almost painful, and this seemed to be partly due to the uncanny amount of spaciousness with which he allows the lyrical lines to unfold, while giving much meaning and energy to each pause. Tension built in the contrast between dry cellos and basses in their descending lines and a sweeter, almost "heavenly' instrumentation given to ascending lines - meanwhile this gentle pulse, like a heartbeat, beneath it all. "Beauty" battled with "ugliness" at moments when Mahler intentionally uses piercing woodwind or brass instruments to cut into the proceedings, and even more impressive than the final three notes of the movement were the perfectly judged spaces between them. It brought to mind something a friend of mine often says - if you go to an old cemetery and look at the tombstones, they usually have two dates carved on them - the date of the persons' birth and their passing - and those dates are usually separated by a dash (-)....so my friend points out that what matters in life is what we do in the "dash". It is so often the same with music - it is most profound, moving and unifying by what we do in the silence between the notes. Both Mahler and Michael Tilson Thomas would seem to be unparalleled in that aspect.

Mahler actually stipulated for an extended period of that silence (or break) to occur after the first movement, so that listeners could "clear their minds" before continuing with the next four movements that complete this massive work. The following movements offer a marvelous juxtaposition of many different musical genres, as if glimpses into different periods of a character's life....the Viennese elegance of waltz and minuet, superbly played by the orchestra this evening, and then immediately a Kletzmer-like episode that was brilliantly shaped by MTT and played with just the right amount amount of "attitude" even at tempi that were a bit faster than this writer has normally heard in that section.

Mahler Second Symphony is often called the "Resurrection" Symphony due primarily to the words that Gustav Mahler chose as the sung text for the choir and vocal soloists that join the orchestral forces in the final movements, and I have been told that this piece also has the interesting distinction of being mentioned the most times (of any classical music work), by people describing a permanent or life-changing "spiritual experience" that occurred unexpectedly when attending a live concert. If these "conversions" are true, I would suspect they most often happen in the shining moments of the final movement or the magical entrance of the Mezzo soprano solo in "Urlicht".
Soloist Katarina Karneus performed that role with great dramatic passion, conviction and warmth of tone, though from our seat location I wished for a more legato line and effortless sense of soaring, particularly in the highest notes of the mezzo part. Soprano Laura Claycomb seemed on this evening (again perhaps due to acoustics in my region of the hall) a bit weak, lacking in radiance or color and at times drowned out by the musical goings on. The Symphony Chorus, as mentioned earlier, was generally excellent despite a couple of slightly ragged entrances and being restricted in numbers (one assumes) by the space availability above the stage. The orchestra, even if they might not have been quite as zealously energetic as in other Mahler symphony performances under MTT that I have attended in Davies Hall, were still phenomenally good, particularly the piccolo and percussionists, but it seems unfair not to then mention the strings and the french horns and the woodwinds and the brass in general....and on and on. (If you want to see each member of the orchestral family in full action, and hear its unique colors and capabilities, go watch a live Mahler symphony performance!)

The real star of the evening was Gustav Mahler, an incredible composer who was, first and foremost, a human being who endeavored to portray every possible human emotion in his music so that generations to come would have the opportunity, in live performances, to experience through his music a unity amongst their humanity. But with Mahler's music as perhaps with no other composer, the humanity, insight and genius of the conductor leading the performance becomes the all-important ingredient that determines the quality of that live experience for the orchestral players and for the participating audience members. Any orchestra and every audience is fortunate indeed if their Mahler has MTT at the helm.

So if you can't make it to Davies Hall in San Francisco for the remaining two performances of Mahler 2nd Symphony this weekend, try to catch another concert date, especially for any of the Mahler symphonies with MTT conducting.
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{A little tip: in symphonic programs where no choir is involved, the hall sells the seats behind the orchestra, up at the back of the stage. Personally, as a musician and performer when attending a concert, that is my absolute favorite place to be, where one can watch the orchestra members each contributing their part of the whole, watch the conductor living the piece in union (hopefully!) with the orchestra, and watch the audience beyond them respond to the thoughts, feelings, values and experiences being so timelessly expressed. The sound of the instruments is also the most "immediate" and "live" from this unique vantage point although of course the blend of instruments may not sound the same as from out in the balconies and rows}.