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.