Orchestra Seating.

For many years, my favorite Beethoven 9 set was the Karajan set from the early 1960s.  While it has some moments of Karajan slickness, and I don't like the 6th at all, the playing in general is so magnificent that I have gotten a great deal of pleasure from it over the years.

That set has been displaced by Haitink's recent LSO 9.  I like Haitink's interpretations better, and the playing is, to me, as good as the BPO's in the 60s.  But as I was listening to the set, a question occurred to me.

One thing that is quite noticible is the placement of the violins: the first violins are on the left, and the second on the right.  Violas are left center and cellos are right center.   Apparently, this was also the seating arrangement Toscanini used more than 60 years ago.  In between, orchestras were usually seated from high strings to low as one moved from left to right.  As it happens, I like the spatial arrangement used by Haitink now, and it leads me to be curious about what leads to changes in tradations about seating arrangements.

I saw Roger Waters do The Wall Last Night.

It reminded me of two lines from Love and Death.

Sonja: Oh don't, Boris, please. Sex without love is an empty experience.
Boris: Yes, but as empty experiences go, it's one of the best.

Ten Songs about America's Ten Largest Cities

(1) Sidewalks of New York
(2) I Love LA
(3) Mrs. O'Leary's Cow
(4) Space Oddity
(5) By the time I get to Phoenix
(6) Streets of Philadelphia
(7) The Ballad of Davy Crockett
(8) San Diego Serenade
(9) The Devil lives in Dallas
(10) Do you know the way to San Jose?

Great Program from Midori Last Night.

She put together a wonderful group of pieces: Mozart, Bartok, Bach, Crumb and Szymanowski.  It was all very  good, but the Bach was really special: her ability to keep multiple lines going makes it sound like multiple fiddlers are playing. 

Then again, sometimes I think Bach should never be programmed against other composers (even young Mozart), because he was just so much better than anyone else.

Orchestra Rankings are Silly

As part of our general obsession with rankings, one from time-to-time sees rankings of orchestras.  Gramophone produced one a few years back, and it produced considerable discussion and consternation.  When I talk with fellow lovers of symphonic music, they often will wonder aloud about whether the "Big 5" is still the Big 5.

When I visit cities away from home, if the local orchestra is playing, I try to take in a concert.  What is striking to me is how really, really good so many orchestras are: within the last year I have heard tremendous concerts here in LA and in Amsterdam, but also in Atlanta and Minneapolis (The Minnesotans played the best  Nachtmusik I from Mahler's 7th that I have ever heard).

Even smaller cities have good orchestras, if not quite at the level as larger cities.  This is not surprising: there is a lot of great musical talent out there (a friend from a city of about 200,000 reports that his orchestra's principal horn player was runner-up for the job in Chicago).  John DeMain did a marvelous job building a fine orchestra in Madison. The Pasadena Symphony is good.

So instead of worrying which orchestras are better than others, perhaps we should just enjoy the ones we have.  But by all means, rag on conductors: the bad ones can make even great orchestras sound dull.

A nice performance of my favorite piece of schmaltz

Listen to Callithumpian Consort if you can

It is a Boston based musical troupe led by Steve Drury, from whom I took music lessons in college.  Tonight they had a concert at Paine Hall featuring six young compoers: Trevor Baca, Josiah Oberholtzer, Ian Power, Sivan Cohen-Elias, Sabrina Schroeder and Anne Cleare.

The players themselves, Jessi Rosinski, Rane Moore, Jeff Means, Gabriela Diaz, and Ben Schwartz, were lively, giving the audience an excellent sense of pulse in thorny pieces.  The playing was very tight, which is particularly impressive given how difficult much of the music was to play.  Jessi and Rane got sounds out of their instruments that I had never heard before, particularly in the Cleare piece.

I particularly like the Cohen-Elias piece, called Air Pressure.  It reminded me a bit of Berio (from me this is a compliment).

Evenings like this also explain that while I have been trying to turn my back on Harvard because of its various misdeeds, I don't think I will ever be able to do so.