Last Friday (September 30th) night was our first ESO concert of the year. As noted in the title, Andrew and I decided to request new seats this year. As much as I loved having the dead centre, first row spot, we were getting tired of having to crawl over other patrons' knees to get to them. Now we're sitting in the stage right loge. We have lots of room to stand and move around, and we can shuffle our chairs around to get a better view if we want. The only downside, is we'd have to snuggle right up to the railing to get a full view of the orchestra, which might annoy our section companions--although it's just the violas and some of the brass I can't see. Regardless, I think we both liked our new spots, as neither one of us had sat in a loge before.
Three pieces were on the program on Friday. Two classics, and one brand new piece by the ESO composer in residence, Robert Rival. His piece was titled Scherzo and both Andrew and I enjoyed it. I heard little hints of other pieces I like, which I think is why it resonated with me. It started out with a rhythmic staccato section, which reminded me of the music from the movie, Catch Me if you Can (John Williams). The middle section was a flowing waltz with the melody jumping around the woodwinds. Finally it ended with a lively string section that brought Aaron Copland (I think the Grand Canyon suite in particular) to mind. Rival says in the program notes that he wrote this piece of music to be fun, which I think he managed. It was also originally scored for 9 instruments, then expanded to the version we heard (a small wind section, with the full string complement).
The second selection of the evening was Mozart's 41st Symphony--known as the Jupiter Symphony. I'm not too sure what to say here, I mean it's Mozart, it's the ESO, it was very lovely. This was the last symphony that Mozart wrote, although it was still 3 years before his death, and apparently he'd initially titled it the Zeus Symphony. It was the publisher who changed it to Jupiter.
After intermission was Beethoven's Violin Concerto in D major with guest violinist Karen Gomyo. Karen studied at Julliard (when she was 11 years old), Indiana University, and the New England Conservatory of Music. Not to mention, she plays on a Stradivarius violin purchased for her by a private donor. So, was she any good, you might ask? Yeah. She was good. I actually got a little choked up after her opening stanza. When I read in the program that the concerto was 50 minutes long (who else but Beethoven would write a mammoth concerto like that?) I was a little worried it might get tedious, but it didn't. It was fantastic. I'd said to Andrew before the music began that I wasn't sure if this was a piece I knew (I recognize a lot of classical music, but I don't always know what it is), but when we got to the final movement recognition struck. This was actually one of my earliest classical music memories as I'm pretty sure it was one of the Hooked on Classics pop-remix tapes we kept in the car when I was a kid. This last movement is very lively, which made it a fun way to finish the program.
A great first night at the symphony.
Ciao,
Andrea
I am the author of three novels, The Cure, Cimwai's Bay, and The Circus of Love, under my pen name Peggy Fitz. I blog about a variety of topics which may include discussions around self-publishing and writing, but also training in aerial arts, crafting, and cooking.
Showing posts with label Beethoven. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Beethoven. Show all posts
Friday, October 7, 2011
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Dramatic works at the ESO
Friday night was our first ESO concert of the new year. We'd initially purchased tickets to the Bugs Bunny and Friends show that took place last Saturday, but when I was asked if I wanted to go to the Cochrane Conference we had to exchange our tickets. Luckily, the ESO has an excellent exchange policy and we were able to switch our tickets to the show with Tom Allen (long time radio show host on CBC2) in May instead. At any rate, it had been several months since our last concert and so we (or at least I) was looking forward to this show.
The first thing we noticed when we took our seats was that the stage was filled to the brim with instruments. I don't know what it is, but I always get excited when I see so many instruments set up for a concert. Maybe it's that I'm happy that so many musicians are going to be employed for the evening; that I'm looking forward to the huge sound that so many musicians can produce; or that I'm curious to see what kind of music requires two harps, three pianos, a celesta, a small army of percussion instruments....and why is there a lone bass resting over there by the percussion section? Yeah, that was definitely one of my first questions upon sitting down--that extra bass sitting all by itself, what was it doing there? The answer to what kind of music required all those instruments was quickly answered when I saw that Leonard Berstein was on the program. Although I wasn't familiar with the piece The Age of Anxiety I could well imagine that Berstien's piece was going to be a complex and interesting symphony.
Conductor-in-residence Lucus Waldin took the podium for the first two pieces of the evening and began with a wonderfully majestic selection by Steven Stucky--which was actually an arrangement of the Henry Purcell piece, Funeral Music for Queen Mary. This arrangement called for only brass, woodwinds, and if I remember correctly timpani. Funeral Music, as you might expect was a fairly somber piece, yet it was taken at just the right tempo so it didn't drag on or feel oppressively mournful. It felt more like the music had a steady, purposeful drive like say, Bolero, or the opening bars of Also sparch Zarathustra. All-in-all, both Andrew and I rather liked it, and I'd be interested to hear the Purcell arrangement sometime.
The second piece of the evening was the Berstein, which called in the entire orchestra, plus Music Director Bill Eddins who took a seat at the grand piano positioned front and centre. There was much talk about The Age of Anxiety during the after thoughts session. In fact, I think there was very little said about either of the other selections on the bill. Where to start with this piece? Well, I suppose it should be noted that The Age of Anxiety was inspired by a Pulitzer Prize-winning poem written by W.H. Auden and was published in 1947. The basic premise (as I understand it, having not read the poem) is that it is a discussion between four people trying to determine what it means to be human. Yeah. Heavy stuff, but as pointed out, this poem was written just post-WWII, so many writers and poets were thinking heavy thoughts at that time.
The Age of Anxiety delivered what I'd expected, and so I liked. That is to say, it was different, it was challenging and complex. Andrew (who wasn't so keen) used the word frenetic to describe it, and I'd say that's reasonably apt. It felt as though the theme changed every few bars, which is in fact what it did. The first half of the symphony was meant to illustrate (through music) the discussion going on between the four characters: first a dicussion of the seven stages of aging (seven variations), then a discussion of the seven stages of development (another seven variations). This lack of consistency can make for more challenging listening, but as I've noted in previous posts, I like being challenged occasionally. As I listened; however, I did wonder if the musicians enjoyed playing this kind of music. Lucas indicated during the after thoughts talk that the first run through was difficult, and that they just had to grit their teeth and plow through. Finally, late in the performance the purpose of the extra bass was made apparent. One of the bassists walked (quiety) off stage, to return a few minutes later on the other side, by the percussionists. The second to last section of the symphony was written in a jazz-style, which called for a bass to keep the beat.
I could write a couple more paragraphs at least about The Age of Anxiety, but then I would never get this blog post done. One last thing I would like to acknowledge is that Bill Eddins is one of three people in the world who has both conducted and played the piano for this Berstein piece (one of the other two being Berstein himself). He also said that he had to play this piece from memory as was simply too busy--that he wouldn't have the time to turn the pages otherwise.
After the intermission the ESO performed Beethoven's Third Symphony, the Eroica with Bill back on the conductors stand (conducting from memory, I might add). This symphony was initially dedicated to Napoleon; however, that dedication was revoked after Napoleon declared himself to be the Emperor of France. I enjoyed the Eroica for much the same reasons I enjoyed the Berstien. It was exactly as I expected it to be: dramatic and enchanting, it was over before I'd expected it to be--even though the play time is a whopping 48 minutes. It's funny to think after listening to The Age of Anxiety that when Beethoven's Third was first performed in 1805, it was deemed a 'danger to public morals,' and not performed again for another 40 years. I'd be willing to bet there are a number of rock songs that have also been termed 'dangerous' and haven't seen a similar ban.
As always the ESO delivered a delightful evening. Our next concert should be in March (better check my calander on that...) and our subscriber packages should be arriving in the mail soon as well. Can't wait.
Ciao,
Andrea
The first thing we noticed when we took our seats was that the stage was filled to the brim with instruments. I don't know what it is, but I always get excited when I see so many instruments set up for a concert. Maybe it's that I'm happy that so many musicians are going to be employed for the evening; that I'm looking forward to the huge sound that so many musicians can produce; or that I'm curious to see what kind of music requires two harps, three pianos, a celesta, a small army of percussion instruments....and why is there a lone bass resting over there by the percussion section? Yeah, that was definitely one of my first questions upon sitting down--that extra bass sitting all by itself, what was it doing there? The answer to what kind of music required all those instruments was quickly answered when I saw that Leonard Berstein was on the program. Although I wasn't familiar with the piece The Age of Anxiety I could well imagine that Berstien's piece was going to be a complex and interesting symphony.
Conductor-in-residence Lucus Waldin took the podium for the first two pieces of the evening and began with a wonderfully majestic selection by Steven Stucky--which was actually an arrangement of the Henry Purcell piece, Funeral Music for Queen Mary. This arrangement called for only brass, woodwinds, and if I remember correctly timpani. Funeral Music, as you might expect was a fairly somber piece, yet it was taken at just the right tempo so it didn't drag on or feel oppressively mournful. It felt more like the music had a steady, purposeful drive like say, Bolero, or the opening bars of Also sparch Zarathustra. All-in-all, both Andrew and I rather liked it, and I'd be interested to hear the Purcell arrangement sometime.
The second piece of the evening was the Berstein, which called in the entire orchestra, plus Music Director Bill Eddins who took a seat at the grand piano positioned front and centre. There was much talk about The Age of Anxiety during the after thoughts session. In fact, I think there was very little said about either of the other selections on the bill. Where to start with this piece? Well, I suppose it should be noted that The Age of Anxiety was inspired by a Pulitzer Prize-winning poem written by W.H. Auden and was published in 1947. The basic premise (as I understand it, having not read the poem) is that it is a discussion between four people trying to determine what it means to be human. Yeah. Heavy stuff, but as pointed out, this poem was written just post-WWII, so many writers and poets were thinking heavy thoughts at that time.
The Age of Anxiety delivered what I'd expected, and so I liked. That is to say, it was different, it was challenging and complex. Andrew (who wasn't so keen) used the word frenetic to describe it, and I'd say that's reasonably apt. It felt as though the theme changed every few bars, which is in fact what it did. The first half of the symphony was meant to illustrate (through music) the discussion going on between the four characters: first a dicussion of the seven stages of aging (seven variations), then a discussion of the seven stages of development (another seven variations). This lack of consistency can make for more challenging listening, but as I've noted in previous posts, I like being challenged occasionally. As I listened; however, I did wonder if the musicians enjoyed playing this kind of music. Lucas indicated during the after thoughts talk that the first run through was difficult, and that they just had to grit their teeth and plow through. Finally, late in the performance the purpose of the extra bass was made apparent. One of the bassists walked (quiety) off stage, to return a few minutes later on the other side, by the percussionists. The second to last section of the symphony was written in a jazz-style, which called for a bass to keep the beat.
I could write a couple more paragraphs at least about The Age of Anxiety, but then I would never get this blog post done. One last thing I would like to acknowledge is that Bill Eddins is one of three people in the world who has both conducted and played the piano for this Berstein piece (one of the other two being Berstein himself). He also said that he had to play this piece from memory as was simply too busy--that he wouldn't have the time to turn the pages otherwise.
After the intermission the ESO performed Beethoven's Third Symphony, the Eroica with Bill back on the conductors stand (conducting from memory, I might add). This symphony was initially dedicated to Napoleon; however, that dedication was revoked after Napoleon declared himself to be the Emperor of France. I enjoyed the Eroica for much the same reasons I enjoyed the Berstien. It was exactly as I expected it to be: dramatic and enchanting, it was over before I'd expected it to be--even though the play time is a whopping 48 minutes. It's funny to think after listening to The Age of Anxiety that when Beethoven's Third was first performed in 1805, it was deemed a 'danger to public morals,' and not performed again for another 40 years. I'd be willing to bet there are a number of rock songs that have also been termed 'dangerous' and haven't seen a similar ban.
As always the ESO delivered a delightful evening. Our next concert should be in March (better check my calander on that...) and our subscriber packages should be arriving in the mail soon as well. Can't wait.
Ciao,
Andrea
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Sing-a-long at the symphony
Okay, so it wasn't actually an audience sing-a-long at the ESO on Friday night, but the Richard Eaton Singers (a prestigious choir in Edmonton) appeared along side (or above, actually, in the choir loft) the symphony. The first half of the evening was a piece titled The Houses Stand Not Far Apart, and after the intermission was Beethoven's 9th Symphony.
The Houses Stand Not Far Apart was written by a Canadian composer, John Estacio and was first performed in the spring of 2008. The piece was commissioned jointly by four Canadian choirs (Vancouver Bach Choir, Richard Eaton Singers, Grand Philharmonic Choir of Kitchener, and Chorus Niagara). The program notes for the performance tell me that this piece was written during a particularly violent period in the summer of 2006 when Israel was bombing Lebanon, along with other ongoing global conflicts. The events of the time inspired the composer and John Murrell (a Canadian poet) to put together this cantata.
Four movements made up The Houses Stand Not Far Apart, each with their own distinct moods. The first started with a somewhat ethereal quality, while the lyrics set the stage: "Nothing is shared, Though both worlds are the same, The river holds them apart..." I particularly enjoyed the second movement, They Are Dancing, as it was light and joyous with a syncopated beat. Given the theme of the piece, the happy air was destroyed as the third movement began with heavy, war-like drums. Many of the harmonies in this section were slightly dissonant. Both Andrew and I grieved the introduction of two soloist in this section. That's not to say that the soloists weren't good, we just felt that members of the choir could have done just as good a job. The final movement opened with a serene duo of harp and flute and was the final plead for peace: "Forgive what is so much the same and so strange, Let fear, Suspicion, And weeping cease, And you may find yourselves, At last, At peace."
Beethoven's 9th Symphony took up the whole of the second half of the show (the run-time is approximately 65 minutes). I was a little surprised that the collection of gathered instruments was slightly smaller than for the cantata. The harp was removed, as was the tuba, and some of the percussion pieces were not used either. It was still a glorious sound overall. I think I liked the second movement best with the way the theme was bounced around the sections of the orchestra. Unfortunately, by the end of the third I was suffering from a serious case of "stiff-bum." This perhaps sounds trifling, but it really affected my experience during the final movement. Instead of reveling in the glory of a 150 person choir, and a rich orchestra, I just couldn't wait for it to be over. I spent much of the forth movement trying to find my place in the linear notes for the choir so I could try to gauge how much more I had to sit through. I love going to the orchestra, but I can't remember the last time I needed to stand so badly. Both Andrew and I stood to applaud pretty quickly after the final chord.
The moral of the story: always give your legs (and bum) a stretch at intermission, especially if Beethoven's 9th is on the concert bill.
We don't go to the ESO again until March. I don't recall what's playing then, but I hope Bill Eddin's will be back at the conductor's post. He hasn't been there for the last couple of performances, which I find a little disappointing. I like to watch him dance around the podium during the performances and he's always got a good story to tell during the after thoughts portion of the evening.
Ciao,
Andrea
The Houses Stand Not Far Apart was written by a Canadian composer, John Estacio and was first performed in the spring of 2008. The piece was commissioned jointly by four Canadian choirs (Vancouver Bach Choir, Richard Eaton Singers, Grand Philharmonic Choir of Kitchener, and Chorus Niagara). The program notes for the performance tell me that this piece was written during a particularly violent period in the summer of 2006 when Israel was bombing Lebanon, along with other ongoing global conflicts. The events of the time inspired the composer and John Murrell (a Canadian poet) to put together this cantata.
Four movements made up The Houses Stand Not Far Apart, each with their own distinct moods. The first started with a somewhat ethereal quality, while the lyrics set the stage: "Nothing is shared, Though both worlds are the same, The river holds them apart..." I particularly enjoyed the second movement, They Are Dancing, as it was light and joyous with a syncopated beat. Given the theme of the piece, the happy air was destroyed as the third movement began with heavy, war-like drums. Many of the harmonies in this section were slightly dissonant. Both Andrew and I grieved the introduction of two soloist in this section. That's not to say that the soloists weren't good, we just felt that members of the choir could have done just as good a job. The final movement opened with a serene duo of harp and flute and was the final plead for peace: "Forgive what is so much the same and so strange, Let fear, Suspicion, And weeping cease, And you may find yourselves, At last, At peace."
Beethoven's 9th Symphony took up the whole of the second half of the show (the run-time is approximately 65 minutes). I was a little surprised that the collection of gathered instruments was slightly smaller than for the cantata. The harp was removed, as was the tuba, and some of the percussion pieces were not used either. It was still a glorious sound overall. I think I liked the second movement best with the way the theme was bounced around the sections of the orchestra. Unfortunately, by the end of the third I was suffering from a serious case of "stiff-bum." This perhaps sounds trifling, but it really affected my experience during the final movement. Instead of reveling in the glory of a 150 person choir, and a rich orchestra, I just couldn't wait for it to be over. I spent much of the forth movement trying to find my place in the linear notes for the choir so I could try to gauge how much more I had to sit through. I love going to the orchestra, but I can't remember the last time I needed to stand so badly. Both Andrew and I stood to applaud pretty quickly after the final chord.
The moral of the story: always give your legs (and bum) a stretch at intermission, especially if Beethoven's 9th is on the concert bill.
We don't go to the ESO again until March. I don't recall what's playing then, but I hope Bill Eddin's will be back at the conductor's post. He hasn't been there for the last couple of performances, which I find a little disappointing. I like to watch him dance around the podium during the performances and he's always got a good story to tell during the after thoughts portion of the evening.
Ciao,
Andrea
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