MUSIC INTO WORDS - Feb' 2ND 2016

Last night’s event at the Senate House sparked great conversation and debate on writing about classical music.  Frances Wilson, pianist, classical music reviewer and blogger, chaired the event whilst making an invaluable contribution to the Q & A session at the end. (She also made sure the event ran smoothly.) I spoke as a panellist alongside Simon Brackenborough (founder and editor of Corymbus.co.uk), Jessica Duchen (music journalist at the Independent) and classical music blogger) and Imogen Tilden (commissioning music editor at the Guardian).

Simon, Jessica and I gave brief talks to set the tone of the event by sharing our own experience of writing about music, and it was interesting to discover that our inspirations began very early on.

Simon enthusiastically explained the ideas behind his blog with particular focus on making connections between classical music and its contextual links to politics, art and literature. He also made a comparison between classical music experts and passionate medievalists online. Apparently the medievalists’ social network is vast (or perhaps there is no comparison?), and the classical music world is lagging behind. Maybe there is a lesson to learn here; that social media can shape and drive more voices for writing about classical music.

He also brought up the point about bloggers not being paid for what they write about. This only stresses why we bloggers continue to do what we do - for the love of blogging and writing about what we are passionate about. 

Another point raised, which I also discussed in my talk, was that bloggers are not bogged down to anyone’s editorial policy and we have the freedom to write as we please, and set our own rules. He also highlighted the most obvious thing, which we sometimes forget, in that music is a powerful force in our lives  - it ‘grounds’ us and is, perhaps, another significant reason why we should talk, write and blog more about it.

In my presentation, I glanced over the newspaper and print landscape and how they spend more time writing about concerts and operas by ‘the big names’, leaving behind new and up-and-coming artists and small-scale productions. For whatever reason(s), these major tabloids may have for not covering them, I argued that this was where bloggers could fill the void. 

Glossing over my background in classical music (or lack of), it brought me onto my point about not using technical jargon or music terminology in my blog - deliberately. I simply don’t understand it, plus my blog is geared towards engaging new audiences to opera or classical music. Bombarding them with specialists language would put them off. 

I also spoke about why I wrote honest reviews in my blog (both positive and negative) even if I am offered a complimentary ticket to see a performance. There’s this misconception that bloggers have special relationship with PRs and performers and that they are promised free tickets to write a positive review of their show. For me, that’s entirely false. Then, I voiced how the characteristics of blogging are very similar to journalism in that they still need to have the knowledge, the ability to research and skills to build a consistent voice – in essence, blogging was a bit of a training ground for future journalists. 

Moving onto Jessica, she spoke about how her background as a journalist and the driving forces behind her writing which stemmed from her desire to ‘capture and preserve the miraculous effect’ of music. Speaking as a professional music journalist, she felt incredibly lucky to be where she was, doing what she does, like interviewing her favourite musicians.

Moving onto her blogging experience, she addressed the impact the internet has had on music writer’s reach and that sharing passion and knowledge on classical music was making a huge impact. She also listed some interesting features of blogging including how personal, informal, immediate and spontaneous it was, as part of our culture of ‘instant gratification’. She also made an insightful point about the pernicious idea that classical music was elitist and that it was down to bloggers to change the discourse. 

Attending the #MusicIntoWords discussion event about classical music pic.twitter.com/UrEXIcu63m

— Christian Hoskins (@aquilanebula) February 2, 2016

(Photo by Christian Hoskins)

Tilden briefly spoke about her position in the Guardian and illuminated the limitations and pressures of writing about music compared to the past, such as considering of the word count, the set number of articles and reviews they're allowed to publish - mostly online - and other various financial cuts.  

.@MaryGNguyen now talking about blogging on opera! #musicintowords pic.twitter.com/H8sfbVgtrx

— Music Into Words (@musintowords) February 2, 2016

There were some interesting questions asked by the audience in the Q & A session:

• What effect does academics have in writing and blogging about classical music? 
• Whether classical music bloggers should branch out and blog about other genres or stick in their bubble? 
• Who is the imaginary reader that bloggers write for? 
• Compared to San Francisco (where an audience member observed the lack of reviews after attending a classical music concert), why and how do other countries or cities blog and write about classical music concerts? 
• Do blogger wish they had a subeditor?

There were many more questions asked and I'm afraid that I can't remember all of them, but please feel free to note them down below.

My coverage of last night's @musintowords #musicintowords @CrossEyedPiano @sbrackenborough https://t.co/te8V9xtZbj pic.twitter.com/eqrN0tUpzW

— Mary Grace Nguyen (@MaryGNguyen) February 3, 2016

The Music into Words event was the first of its kind. It aims to bridge the gap by allowing curious and avid classical music lovers to come together and discuss important questions about the art form and its industry. More Music into Words events are soon to come - watch this space!

This lively Q & A session and its inquisitive audience helped drive an ongoing dialogue that will continue to fascinate people.

I'd like to thank Frances, Simon, Mark Berry (who was expected to speak but had to pull out last moment), Tilden, Jessica, Senate House and the audience for making the event completely worthwhile.  Keep on blogging, keep on writing and keep on loving classical music!

Oh, please join the Music into Words Facebook Page and follow us on Twitter.

Amazon Prime: Mozart in the Jungle - Season 1

Paul Weitz, director of teenage sex education film American Pie, has just witnessed the unveiling of his Amazon Prime series Mozart in the Jungle, but let’s get one thing straight. It has nothing to do with the great composer.

The inspiration behind the series comes from Blair Tindall’s 2005 memoir of life as a professional oboist.

In Weitz’s production, viewers watch girl next-door amateur musician Hailey (Lola Kirke) and her amusing journey playing for phantom orchestra, the New York Symphony after impressing new, young and eclectic maestro Roderigo (Gael García Bernal) with his bohemian hair and unconventional charm.

Rodrigo, the supposed rebel conductor is animated, passionate, and South American, which sounds like exotic heartthrob qualities, but, honesty, there is nothing fiery or magical about him besides his outlandishness. 

What may seem like an insight into classical music orchestras is, in actual fact, just a nicely filmed, pictorial drama set in sunny Manhattan.

The terminology isn’t designed to wow classical music experts or professionals either: those in the field would despise the show, any way, given the numerous musical inaccuracies from cast members holding their instruments incorrectly to gleaming over some misguiding generalisations about how orchestras are run.

The feedback for Mozart in the Jungle however is surprisingly positive. Many, including myself, agree that the show gives viewers something to entertain them.

All episodes are available in bite size chunks, as little as half an hour of your precious time, with uninteresting titles.

There are other attractive characters in addition to the maestro and oboist. There are such characters as the veteran and former conductor Thomas (Malcolm McDowell) and orchestra’s cellist Cynthia (Saffron Burrows) who spices up the sex and humour of the show with their clandestine affair. She also lets off steam by shagging other colleagues in the orchestra, which she admits to Hailey and gives a spiel about musicians having sex the same way they play their instruments. Funny!

There is also Hailey’s adorable love interest: a dancer (Peter Vack) and her neuroses with potty mouth flat mate Lizzie (Hannah Dunne).

The initial trailer of Mozart in the Jungle is misleading as well; one would think that the show would probe into the enlightened maestro tearing down classical music barriers with the orchestra yet little do newbies of classical music know that conductors gain their pedigree from other things but innovation and blind faith creativity: musicians have to dedicate years, from childhood, to perfect their trade and regretfully the programme leaves this unshakable point out.

The show fast forwards to Rodrigo as an already established conductor which limits the sophistication of the show, pushing out any opportunity to make it ingenious and simply succeeding in making it mediocre.

Rodrigo and Hailey’s characters are likable enough that viewers will ask ‘how did they get there?’ or ‘how did they get to their musical level?’ Very little is explored about Hailey’s educational background with the oboe as well.

It is undeniable that the book, and the series, attempts to provide positive inspiration, but this pertinent link is missing. 

The beautiful shots, picturesque settings, particularly in episode 7: 'You go to my Head', of a rose garden party and some scenes of orchestral rehearsals with conductors may give viewers teeny tiny glimpses of orchestras in real life; besides that there is nothing to glorify it but the show's passable TV value.

The lighthearted humour is intact; the programme may make you smile. And there are lukewarm dramatic moments where characters fall and crumble.

If there, really, is nothing else on television and, for some reason, you can’t watch anything else, then I guess you could watch this, but it is not life changing as Breaking Bad - they are worlds apart. Nor is it as intense and sentimental as the other Amazon Prime series, Transparent.

Another let down is a tacky scene with the ghost of Mozart turning up in the New York library to spook out our maestro. He has an American accent, wears a white 17^th century wig with all the frills of a traditional costume. What a load of rubbish!

BBC Prom 59: Richard Strauss' Elektra **** [FOUR STAR]

BBC Symphony Orchestra (BBCSO) and conductor, Semyon Bychkov

 BBC Prom 59 [Sunday 31^st August] was dominated by Elektra (1909); the second of the two so-called  psycho-pathological operas of Richard Strauss following a lusty and staggering performance of Salome the night before [see link below.] Christine Goerke took center stage making her prom debut as the menacing and evil daughter Elektra while 120 musicians of the BBC Symphony Orchestra (BBCSO) gave a steadfast and prominent performance conducted by the seamless and precise Semyon Bychkov who is well-versed in Strauss' work.

It was in 1903 (or 1904 according to some musicologists) that Strauss had attended a performance of the poet Hugo von Hofmannsthal’s play Elektra that spurred them to work collaboratively - for the first time - and transform it into an opera. Set in antiquity, it follows the terrifying path of a troubled daughter, Elektra who seeks revenge for her father’s bloody murder. 

Elektra is imbued with turn-of-the-century themes such as dreams, psychoanalysis, sacrilegious rites, and inklings of lesbian incest from the original works of Sophocles. However, there is no official source that suggests, either, Hofmannsthal or Strauss were familiar with Sigmund Freud’s work. 

The immediate entry into the opera involves - almost - all instruments diving in with dissonance and tension which presents the omnipresent and looming dead father similar to Mozart’s Commendatore in Don Giovanni.  The BBCSO had its largest orchestral size comprising of up to eight horns, eight clarinets including two rare basset horns and a full assembly of percussion instruments.

Although filled with glaring stress and intense musical chords underpinning the instability and uncertainty of the tale of Elektra, there are harmonies fully illustrating by the BBCSO, such as D minor for Orestes, Elektra’s lost brother sung by Johan Reuter, and E flat for Chrysothemis, their slightly subdued sister performed by Gun-Brit Barkmin. In this evening’s performance, compared to the last, all singers memorised their lines and brought primed distinction and verve to Justin Way’s semi-stage.

(Left to Right) Johan Reuter, Dame Felicity Palmer, Gun-Brit Barkmin and Christine Goerke

Goerke had already sung the same role at the Royal Opera House last year which made her the optimum choice for the BBC Proms. Her vocal agility was unflagging and constant; one could hear the killer instinct of a tormented Elektra throughout. While her voice echoed, from where I sat in the Royal Albert Hall (RAH), her music still towered over. 

Barkmin also moved the audience being Elektra’s docile, yet spirited sister as a strong soprano. She didn’t, however, match Goerke's prowess, particularly at the last scenes were their voices seemed to clash. Yet, irrespective of this, Barkmin still held on until the very end despite how vocally demanding her role was.

Dame Felicity Palmer as Elektra’s mother, Clytemnestra entered in like a Hollywood star in a diamanté queen’s black robe to resemble a superstitious and guilt-stricken mother. Palmer’s fashion was fitting as her previous experience as Chytemnestra shone through and peaked; it was a delight to hear her and see her on stage as Goerke’s antagonist.

Reuter also showed a full-proof Orestes in the musical climax scene with Elektra. Although Robert Künzli as Clytemnestra lover, Aegisthus and Jongmin Park as Orestes’ tutor had smaller roles, they still managed to prove their merits as operatic performers while the five maids (Katarina Bradić, Zoryana Kushpler, Hanna Hipp, Marie-Eve Munger, and Iris Kupke) sung with vim and vigor. 

The score of Elektra is earth-shattering and musically booming; this is ignited by the dissident blend of countless instruments which amalgamate dissonance with melodies. With Semyon Bychkov’s precision, the BBCSO successfully conveyed Strauss’ intriguing opera which was filled with quiet, subtle hushes and victorious brass instruments to build up wicked suspense. An example of this is when Orestes and his tutor kill Chytemnestra and she screams. It is the trilling strings and abrupt instruments that turn up the volume and violence which discernibly supplements Strauss’ fixation with female voices and the female psyche.

An shortened version of my review of Prom 59: Richard Strauss Elektra: 

http://www.ldncard.com/blog/prom-59-strauss-elektra/0038

 Review of Prom 58: Richard Strauss Salome

http://www.ldncard.com/blog/prom-58-strauss-salome/0036 

Information on the BBC Proms at the Royal Albert Hall, events and ticket bookings

http://www.bbc.co.uk/proms

BBC PROM 49: RUSSIAN FAIRY TALES

Proms 49 welcomed the Finnish husband-and-wife team, Chief conductor Sakari Oramo and Anu Komsi with the BBC Symphony Orchestra for a family event filled with fantasy, imagination and Russian Fairy Tales.

Tonight was the UK’s premier of Jukka Tiensuu’s (a well-known Finnish composer) Voice Verser (2012) which is a humorous piece composed for the power of voice. Two trios were located in the arena with prommers either side of the orchestra consisting of wood wind and brass instruments.

The first of the three movements was called Desparia and it depicted no other but an air of despair, eeriness and dreariness through highly chromatic scales and gibberish notes from Komsi.

Notes of sadness and tensions were created by the shrilling of violins, repetitive glissandos and unsettling sounds of what one could interpret as mischievous rats. In slight confusion, Desparia ending with Komsi emulated loud cries of moaning which left the audience possibly dumbfounded, yet amused at the same time by its riveting versatility.

Come was even stranger where Komsi began scat singing, laughing cheerfully and operatically which is where her coloratura abilities slowly seeped through – she sung a high F and a high ‘A, three octaves above middle C’ as she told the proms at an interview. She also blew kisses at the audience which made them giggle in silence, as part of the piece.

The last movement Riiti (ritual in Finnish) was a massive stamp on the ground and a camaraderie ‘Hei’ from the BBC Symphony Orchestra with pounding cellos, basses, input from a celesta and flutters from flutes and clarinets that took the piece to the unknown heavens through sheer excitement and tensions. 

It concluded with all musicians sighing loudly of relief. Komsi sung with finesse: despite being challenged with high notes, she handled them effortlessly.

The proms also premiered Karol Szymanowski’s (1882-1937) Songs of a Fairy Princess (1933) where Szymanowski was motivated by his travels to North Africa (Algeria) and Tunisia in 1914. Although he composed three songs for the original voice-and-piano set, our evening’s conductor, Oramo had completed the cycle with three refined pieces with Golden Slippers, Song of the Wave and The Feast.

Komsi's vocals swirl throughout the piece yet, the focus was the subtle floating Middle-Eastern music and fairy tale elements. Flickering woodwind, piano arabesques, highly pitched flutes and soothing violin solos were heightened by twinkling percussions to resemble the princess’ slippers. It is a truly mystical piece; one cannot decipher where Szymanowski and Oramo’s composed parts begin nor end.

However, Nikolay Rimsky-Korsakov’s moving Scheherazade Op.35 (1888) won the most applause for the night influenced by Glinka-sized orchestra: chirpy piccolos, brass instruments, a pair of woodwind, timpani, percussion, harp and trilling strings. It is the story of a heroine who saves her life by telling her husband, the Sultan magical stories, mostly The Arabian Nights.

Divided into four pieces including The Sea and Sinbad’s Ship, it conjures the most fascination: feat and victory for our storyteller. The development of bassoon solos, then by oboe soon overtaken by tender strings and violin solos enrich the grandiose and curiosity of this masterpiece.

Admittedly, the first piece to open the evening was by Maurice Ravel, The Mother Goose Suite (1911) which did not fit in with the programme. The child-like serenity, the use of Chinese ‘chopstick’ patterns, soft Javanese percussion instruments and pentatonic scales were enchanting, but less dramatic and at a glacial pace compared to the other movements.