The D is Silent

In his latest film, Django Unchained, Quentin Tarantino embarks on his own take of the spaghetti Western. Or is this a spaghetti Southern, or Southwestern, since it is set initially in Texas, then travels through the South from Mississippi to Tennessee, to South Carolina, only two years out from the start of the Civil War. No doubt the spaghetti Western as a genre influenced Tarantino's vision, but the interesting twist is that this Western takes place prior to the Civil War and focuses on Dr. King Schultz, a court-appointed bounty hunter (played remarkably by Christoph Waltz) who buys Django (played by Jamie Foxx), a slave who can recognize a trio of brothers Schultz seeks to hunt down. As with most of Tarantino's films, there is a glorification of violence in Django Unchained, yet the film also possess strong leading characters that find you drawn to the protagonists, and drawn, and reviled, by the antagonists. Additionally, the music used in the film brings up several topics.

The film opens with an original title song "Django" with lyrics by Franco Migliacci and Luis Bacalov, and music composed by Migliacci. This is a tradition in Western films dating back to High Noon (1952). Much of the music used Django Unchained is anachronistic for when it is set. The closest to being chronologically correct is "In the Sweet By and By" (1868) sung by Stephen (Samuel L. Jackson) near the end of the film. The remainder of the popular music was a mix of genres spanning decades from the 1970s on. As in other Tarantino films, he resorts to pre-existing music rather than an original score, much like Kubrick did.

Classical music has its place in this film as well. In what precedes what will go down as probably the most hilarious KKK scene in film history, we see the KKK ride on horseback through the night as they raid the wagon of Dr. Schultz and Django in an isolated valley. During their gallop it would make sense, and be expected, to hear Richard Wagner's "The Ride of the Valkyries" from his opera,
Die Walküre (1857/76), because of its association with the KKK riding in at the end of The Birth of a Nation to reclaim the South from black control. But Tarantino takes us in a different direction by accompanying the KKK raid with the "Dies irae" from Giuseppe Verdi's Requiem (1874). This excerpt is known for its strong hammerstrokes and thunderous hits on a bass drum specially built to be wider and deeper than standard bass drums. The Dies irae text describes the Day of Wrath where souls are judged before God for eternal salvation or damnation. The music appropriately reflects the menacing KKK, but the textual connection can play double duty. Does the text refer to the KKK passing judgement on Dr. Schultz and Django for their trickery, or does it reflect the KKK riding into their own judgement made by Dr. Schultz through his trickery to ambush them in the valley? The Verdi initially had me associating the former until it was discovered that Schultz lured the KKK into the valley to attack them, and namely take out Big Daddy. In the newly-formed context, it is Schultz who has made the ultimate judgement upon the KKK.

The other two examples of classical music come as rare diegetic examples in a Tarantino film. Diegetic meaning the music is part of the world of the film, there is a source for the music, and the characters are aware of the music, and often interact with it. The first one comes when Dr. Schultz and Django arrive at Candie Land. As they enter the Big House of the plantation, a young girl is shown playing Giovanni Battista Martini's (1706-84) celebrated Gavotte on the violin. This coquettish display of musicianship by a young girl demonstrates a transplantation of European culture to the New World. Calvin Candie (Leonardo DiCaprio) is a Francophile, but he does not speak they language, he only engages in its customs and culture. As Dr. Schultz is being led up the stairs to meet with Candie, he is informed of his Francophile ways, and his preference to be addressed as Monsieur Candie, and Schultz begins speaking French. He is then told that Candie does not speak the language, and if Schultz were to speak French to him, Candie will be embarrassed. Even though some manners of custom and culture are transplanted, they are not taken whole stock.

The other diegetic example of classical music comes after it has been arranged to purchase Django's wife (more about her shortly) from Candie. As Dr. Schultz and Django wait in the library, a lady performs an arrangement of Beethoven's Bagatelle no. 25 in A minor (WoO 59), better known as
Für Elise. As she plays this on the harp, we enter Schultz's mind as he has flashbacks to witnessing a slave being ripped apart by a pack of dogs. The music spurs these flashbacks to such a level that Schultz becomes aggravated and tells the harpist to stop playing. When she continues to play into the Strum und Drang section with several stressed diminished chords, Schultz physically stops her from playing Beethoven, calling out the composer by name. Here Tarantino engages in a film tradition by associating the music of Beethoven with violence. Some notable pairings of Beethoven and violence can be found in Psycho (1960), A Clockwork Orange (1971), Die Hard (1988), Immortal Beloved (1994), and Elephant (2003). Given his extensive knowledge of film, I believe Tarantino, and his music supervisor, were aware of this strong connection and consciously chose Beethoven for this particular moment. 

As for Django's wife, whom he travels far to rescue and reunite with her, there is a special musical connection with her. Her name Broomhilda is a bastardization of the Valkyrie, Brünnhilde, the heroine to the German national epic, and Wagner's Ring Cycle, Der Ring des Nibelungen. While on their travels, Dr. Schultz gets to know Django and about his wife. He learns that Broomhilda speaks German, and upon learning her name, he tells Django about the power and history behind her name. What takes Wagner 16-17 hours to do across four operas to tell, Schultz explains the tale of Der Ring des Nibelungen to Django in a concise nutshell. Schultz says that every German knows about Brünnhilde and the story of Der Ring des Nibelungen. He mentions Brünnhilde being the daughter of Wotan, the God of the gods. She disobeys him and he places her on a mountain surrounded by a circle of fire. Only a brave, fearless hero can penetrate the fire and win her love. This of course serves as a vehicle and metaphor of Django's plight to reunite with his wife.

Django Unchained provides much discussion about the music alone. Overall, I was very impressed with what Tarantino accomplished. There was a mix of new and old camera and cinematography methods, the cast was varied between established faces and older faces (Don Johnson and [even though it took me a while to recognize him] Tom Wopat). Some of the slavery scenes were difficult to sit through, and the N word was peppered throughout the film. Yet Tarantino manages to pull this off in great comedic ways at times where you  do not feel so guilty or uncomfortable laughing at it. Though there is quite a bit of stylized blood and violence (it is a Tarantino film after all), this ultimately is a happy, Western, (fairy tale).

Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau (1925-2012)

The music world lost a towering figure today. At the age of 86, baritone Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau passed away. Known for his rich voice and clean,crisp vocal technique, his career spanned decades and influenced generations of singers and listeners. Fischer-Dieskau was born in Berlin, and began studying music at the Berlin Conservatory when he was 16. During this time he was drafted into the Wehrmacht by the Nazis, and later became a prisoner of war for two years during World War II. Soon after this he made his oratorio debut in Johannes Brahms's Ein Deutches Requiem, and his stage debut in Giuseppe Verdi's Don Carlos. He transferred his stage experience into his performances of lieder, allowing a dramatic musical interpretation of the poetry to shine forth. His collaboration with English pianist Gerald Moore produced masterful recordings of every song by Schubert, Schumann, and Wolf. Their recordings on the EMI label from the 1950s and 1960s demonstrate the pinnacle of musical and dramatic interpretations of this literature. Fischer-Dieskau also recorded lieder by Beethoven, Weber, Haydn, Nietzsche, Brahms, Strauss, and others.

In addition to being a masterful performer of music, Fischer-Dieskau also published a number of books centered around the composers he sang the most. His notable books include:

• The Fischer-Dieskau Book of Lieder: The Original Texts to Over Seven Hundred and Fifty Songs (1977) [An important reference source for any vocalist]
• Schubert: A Biographical Study of His Songs (1976)
• Robert Schumann, Words and Music: The Vocal Compositions (1988)
• Reverberation: The Memoirs of Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau (1990)

 Fischer-Dieskau appears on no fewer than 490 recordings, and he is a two-time Grammy winner. His first Grammy came in 1971 for his recording of Schubert lieder, and his second in 1973 for Brahms's "Die Schöne Magelone." In addition to being a performer and a writer, Fischer-Dieskau was highly sought out for his teaching and coaching.

Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau recorded a vast amount of Lieder, opera, sacred music, and orchestral Lied, yet the standards of performance and interpretation never faulted. It is truly a happy marriage of quantity and quality. He retired from the opera stage in 1978, and on New Years Day 1993, he retired from the stage altogether. Anyone who took advantage to see him perform in person was fortunate. His recordings will live on as the benchmark and goal of perfection. The musical community was blessed and honored that he shared himself, his talent, and his gift with us.

The Beastie Knights

With the passing of Adam Yauch from The Beastie Boys, I have been revisiting the groups ouvre; yes, I went there. "Sabotage" is perhaps my favorite. But as I listened to it, something caught my attention. As I heard the opening guitar riff, which permeates throughout the song, and the "hammerstrokes" laid down by the drums, this sounded familiar with something else I have heard. The opening track to The Dark Knight soundtrack has a similar style to "Sabotage." I am not sure if "Sabotage" served as any kind of influence for Hans Zimmer and James Newton Howard, but the similarity is a bit striking. It is known that Christopher Nolan, the director of The Dark Knight, said that Heat served as an influence on the direction he took with The Dark Knight, and even had the entire cast and crew watch Heat in order to understand where he wanted to go with the project. It is interesting that the "Sabotage" music video features The Beastie Boys running around in an urban environment as law enforcement agents chasing down bad guys, essentially what happens in Heat and The Dark Knight. Here is a sample from "Sabotage" followed by the opening track to The Drak Knight score, "Why So Serious?"

CSO Gives Philip Glass World Premiere

The Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra is no stranger to world premieres. Sure, they do not happen every year, but it is certainly exciting when one takes place. Perhaps the most historic was the invitation by Eugene Goossens for composers to submit fanfares during the 1942-43 season, which gave us one of Aaron Copland's most recognizable works, Fanfare for the Common Man. Last night (30 March) the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra gave the world premiere of Philip Glass's Second Cello Concerto "Naqoyqatsi," a work based on the music Glass composed for the film Naqoyqatsi. Leading the orchestra was Dennis Russell Davies, a long-time interpreter of Glass who has recorded all of Glass's symphonies and other works; an apt choice. Matt Haimovitz performed as soloist, and his introduction to me, like many others, was through his initial 1991 release with Deutsche Grammphon performing the Lalo and Saint-Saëns cello concertos. Since his three Deutsche Grammophon albums Haimovitz took an unusual turn in his career, notably sharing the music of Bach in restaurants, pubs, and bars. The concerto billed the first half of the program, and the second half featured the Sixth Symphony of Bruckner. Mr. Davies is also a renowned interpreter of Bruckner, and leads the Bruckner Orchester Linz in recordings of the symphonies. During the Classical Conversation lecture before the performance, it was noted that Mr. Davies pairs the music of Glass and Bruckner in Europe, so tonight's billing was within his wheelhouse.

I attended the pre-concert lecture, Classical Conversations, and heard Mr. Glass speak about his work, Dennis Russell Davies, and Bruckner. Glass mentioned that he originally conceived the music for Naqoyqatsi as a cello concerto, which may explain the extensive sections for solo cello performed by Yo-Yo Ma. The concerto form of the film score certainly reduces and extracts from the latter, and one section of the film is placed out of order in the concerto. For those who are familiar with the film, the communication of the music associated with the images remains clear.

Glass has long been associated with the minimalist movement, but during the pre-concert lecture he talked about his disdain toward this term to describe his music as a whole. He acknowledged it applies to the music he composed circa 1966-76, but the music composed since then does not fit the mold. The term minimalism, and the style associated with it, has followed the three major founding members of this style: Terry Riley, Steve Reich, and Philip Glass. The creation and flourish of this movement is chronicled in Robert Fink's 2005 book, Repeating Ourselves: American Minimal Music as Cultural Practice. In lieu of Minimalism, Glass said he prefers to describe his music as, "Music with repeating structures," which opens a can of worms. The pinnacle style marker of Minimalism is repetition. Exactly what he meant by "repeating structures" was not clear. Was is repeating like in sonata form when the exposition repeats as part of the recapitulation? Hardly not since Glass does not always adhere to sonata form, especially in his film scores. Is it repeating rhythms and material, like an ostinato? Perhaps, but then this begins to venture into the classification of minimalism. There are those who argue that the concept of minimalism was generated in the 18th century, with J. S. Bach being one example of this style. It appears Glass cannot shake the early classification of his music or escape the muddy waters of describing his music.

The concerto is in five movements with two interludes, one connecting the second and third movements and the other connecting the third and fourth movements. Much of the energy of the piece is contained in the orchestra. This is more of a lyrical concerto rather than a flashy one. There are a couple of moments of virtuosity for the solo cello, but one of these was unfortunately covered up by thick orchestration. Both interludes are performed by the solo cello with light accompaniment. The first interlude is accompanied by cymbal rolls and tam-tam. The second, as described by Peter Laki in the program notes, "with minimal accompaniment," by harp (emphasis mine; there is that pesky minimal term again). Interludes existed in the film score, and Glass mentioned in the pre-concert lecture that Reggio, the director of the Qatsi trilogy, referred to these as "tissues," as in connective tissues. Glass spent a brief moment on written cadenzas in the pre-concert lecture and their role. Hearing him speak of them, and later listen to them, I was reminded of the cadenzas in Beethoven's Fifth Piano Concerto and Shostakovich's First Violin and First Cello Concerto, all of which connect and lead into the last movement. If you are familiar with the film score you will definitely enjoy the concerto. And if you are new to the music of Philip Glass you will probably ponder the direction of the music, but like it nonetheless. It was a thrill to have Dennis Russell Davies lead the world premiere of this work with the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra. He brought a level of intensity and energy to the performance, and when he assumed his triadic power pose on the podium, you knew something great was to come from the orchestra. The premiere was recorded and will appear on the Orange Mountain Music label, a label devoted to the music of Philip Glass.

Here is a brief clip leading up to the world premiere:


To close, Glass mentioned in the pre-concert lecture that he will premiere a work with the Cincinnati Ballet in 2014. It is unclear whether this will be the Spring of the 2013-2014 season or the Fall of the 2014-2015 season. But something to look forward to nonetheless.

Midori, Beethoven, and Berlioz

Music Hall was sold out Saturday night (24 March) with the anticipation of hearing Midori perform Beethoven's Violin Concerto. She stunned audiences as a child prodigy, and decades later Midori continues to amaze audiences. She was billed on the first half of the program, and Berlioz's Symphonie fantastique balanced the remainder of the program. Midori's technique was near flawless. I did notice a couple of errant double stops, but other than that her performance was brilliant. Her approach to the Beethoven contained moments of sensitivity coupled with masterful technique. However, sometimes I struggled to hear some of her more sensitive passages because of the volume of the orchestra. This issue in balance, unfortunately, falls under the direction of the conductor. I say this is unfortunate because I very much liked the interpretation of the Beethoven and the Berlioz led by guest conductor, Pinchas Steinberg. Known mostly as an opera conductor, I thought Steinberg would have picked up on this and been a bit more mindful of the soloist. But these were just a couple of passages. Her handling of the cadenzas highlighted her mastery of the violin, and she received multiple returns to the stage from the audience. This, of course, prompted an encore. She chose the second movement, the fugue, from J. S. Bach's Sonata No. 1 in G Minor for Solo Violin, BWV 1001.

A few years ago I heard the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra perform Berlioz's Symphonie fantastique under the direction of Paavo Järvi. It was an excellent interpretation, and the best I have heard the orchestra perform. Each section of the orchestra rose to the occasion in tackling the technically and sonically difficult music set before them. The performance tonight led by maestro Steinberg rivaled Järvi's. There must be something about performing Symphonie fantastique that makes the CSO sound so good. The audience was very pleased with the performance that the applause brought maestro Steinberg back on stage three times. On his last visit to the stage, he quieted the audience and expressed his gratitude for the the wonderful musicians he worked with and his gratitude for such an appreciative audience. He concluded the night by saying, "If you want to hear them again, then come again!"

From Button Mashing to the Concert Stage

[For this post, it will help if you read it with Will Ferrell playing James Lipton from Inside the Actors Studio]

Once in a while, a recording comes along that is so triumphant, mesmerizing, and destined to become lauded and legendary. Toscanini's recording of the Beethoven symphonies and Sir Georg Solti's recording of Wagner's Ring Cycle come to mind.

Well, the next greatest recording, destined to become legendary, is here. From the London Philharmonic Orchestra we are treated to The Greatest Video Game Music. If you have not heard this album, go and listen to it. It will change not only your perspective on music, but it will change your life. Below is a sample (with a smack of analysis):
The titles might be too dark, so here is the rundown. I start off with Grand Theft Auto IV, then Super Mario Bros. (which I compare with Leroy Anderson's Jazz Pizzicato), then the Tetris theme, whose slow generation of energy I compare to Vivaldi's L'estro armonico, Op. 3, No. 2, then I return to the Tetris theme during a klezmer-like style, and conclude with a portion of the theme from Angry Birds that also sounds a bit klezmer-like.