This past Friday (January 27th) was our first ESO Masters series concert of 2012. It was quite the night to get back into the swing of things (not having had a concert since early November). The program's line up included Mahler, Shostakovich, and Rachmaninoff. This was just the sort of concert that suited me to a tee. I'm pretty sure I've mentioned this before but, I love Russian composers. So, with Shostakovich's first symphony in the first half and Rachmaninoff's third piano concerto taking up the whole of the second, I found the whole night musically magnificent.
Many people (especially Canadians) are familiar with the Adagietto from Mahler's Fifth Symphony, although possibly without knowing it. Excerpts from this movement were used for Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir's Olympic winning free dance. Their interpretation of the music was exquisite and I had the pleasure of seeing them reprise their performance at the 2010 Stars on Ice show in Edmonton, where they skating an abridged version of this program. Anywho, I'm writing about the ESO concert, not figure skating (alas I missed the ESO show just a few weeks ago which involved Toller Cranston [1976 Olympic men's bronze medalist] as MC). I've been familiar with the Mahler long before Virtue and Moir skated to it, and have always loved it for its wonderfully romantic theme. It lived up to my expectations in the skilled hands of the ESO musicians. A lovely way to start the show.
Changing gears completely, next came Shostakovich's Symphony No. 1 in F Minor, Opus 10. Although, according to the program notes, the Lento movement has more than once been compared to Mahler's Adagietto, so perhaps it wasn't a complete shift. I loved this selection right from the first, highly rhythmic notes--they made me think of Wile E. Coyote, scurrying in between hiding places on tip toe. Actually, the whole symphony reminded me of movie music because it was so changeable and dramatic. It seems this might not be such an unheard of comparison as Shostakovich made ends meet by playing piano in a movie house at the time he composed this music. Sometimes when the ESO performs the slightly more unusual, less known selections the audience isn't quite sure what to make of it. There seemed to be no problems on Friday as the nearly full house clapped enthusiastically as the guest conductor ran about the orchestra queuing featured musicians to stand and take a bow (there were a lot, it took a while).
Finally, after the intermission came the biggy, the masterpiece: Rachmaninoff's Piano Concerto No. 3 in D Minor, Opus 30. Wow. This is one seriously massive work, not only in terms of length (almost 40 minutes), but the skill required by the solo pianist. Known as one of the most remarkable pianist ever, Rachmaninoff wrote this work to showcase his skills for his 1909 tour of the United States. As a listener, if feels like a non-stop barrage of notes, not in an unpleasant way, of course. It's just so busy. The pianist almost never gets a break. Recordings of Rachmaninoff playing the piano still exist. I've heard them played on the CBC before. According to Wikipedia, Rachmaninoff recorded his third concerto with the Philadelphia Orchestra in 1939.
The guest pianist for Friday's performance was Alexander Korsantia. He's originally from Tbilisi Georgia, although he currently lives in Boston and teaches at the New England Conservatory. He was a rather unassuming soloist, coming out in a simple black button down shirt and black pants. Even when he finished the piece, he turned to congratulate the first and second violists, and the conductor before taking a bow. Korsantia was also simply magnificent. Sometimes I envy pianists, and wish I could play as well as them. Oddly, on Friday night I felt no envy, just awe. Rachmaninoff's third piano concerto if far beyond anything I could even hope to play (my fingers barely stretch an octave). Despite the length of the concerto, it flew by, then almost the second the final cord was struck, shouts of 'Bravo!' filled the Winspear. It didn't take long for us all to get to our feet.
Ciao (I'll try to write again soon),
Andrea
Showing posts with label ESO. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ESO. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Another romantic night at the ESP...I mean, ESO
Friday night was our second concert of the 2011-2012 Masters series. Again, we're really enjoying our new seats in the loges. We walked to the Winspear (as it was probably one of the last warm nights of the year) and then took our time getting up to our seats. Had we been sitting in our old, centre of the aisle seats, we would have had to crawl over many pairs of knees before getting to our spots. Now that we're in the loges we can arrive at almost anytime (as long as it's before the first piece begins, of course). This concert comprised of three pieces, two twenty-first century compositions (one by Malcom Forsyth, the second by Peter Meechan--who was visiting Edmonton and present at the concert that night) and Rachmaninoff for the second half.
I think Andrew and I both felt a bit so-so over the Forsyth--for which a part of me thinks I should feel bad about because this was his final composition before he died. It's not that it was bad, but it was just okay. A Ballad of Canada is a combined orchestra and choral work (the voices were provided by the Richard Eaton Singers) and was co-commissioned by the Edmonton Symphony Orchestra and the National Arts Centre Orchestra. This piece was broken down into five movements, which represented different geographical areas of Canada, or different historical time periods. It started off in the North with a tribute to the Northern Lights. There's a specific sort of sound that composers create when the depict the Lights, or stars, etc with lots of tremelo strings and it was the case for this piece as well. The second section, which I remember distinctly commemorated WWI with heavy drums and brass to simulate the feeling of being at war--it certainly was effective. After that much of the rest of the piece ran into each other, with many discordant bits from the orchestra, while the lyrics sung by the choir were based on a series of poems. As I said, the Ballad was all right, but it hasn't really stuck with me three or four days later.
The second piece, Apophenia, was inspired by the idea that you can listen to Pink Floyd's The Dark Side of the Moon, while watching the Wizard of Oz and the music will match the action. If you think from this preliminary description that the piece was probably a bit frenetic, you're right. It was frenetic in an interesting and exciting way. The piece was highly rhythmical, and featured Edmonton native Jens Lindemann on solo trumpet--rather on four solo trumpets. Yeah. It was pretty impressive, he had to switch trumpets between movements. As a string player I can only imagine the breath and embouchure control required to successfully play this piece. It was, as the program reads in several places 'fast and furious.' As I explained to one of my co-workers, I'm not sure I so much enjoyed this music, but more appreciated the skill required to play it. The range of tones produced by the trumpet, the complex rhythms and the speed were all pretty impressive. Before I move on, I must complement the drummer. He put on a phenomenal improvised drum solo during the third movement.
Finally, Rachmaninoff's Symphony No. 2 in E minor, Opus 27. According to the program notes, Rachmaninoff's first symphony was a flop, so when the second symphony premiered he decided to conducted it himself. Whether that was the charm needed or not, it seems to have worked. The second symphony is beautiful--although massive, running more than fifty minutes long. Apparently after the premier Rachmaninoff made cuts to the manuscript, which were retained for a long time. At some point (I don't know when) orchestras began playing the whole work, which is what we heard on Friday. After the lively first movement, someone from the audience shouted out 'Play it again,' which garnered a dirty look from Bill, who already seemed fatigued from the work of conducting. When we reached the third movement of the symphony, I thought to myself, this music is the sound romance, pure and simple. Not tragic romance, not Romeo and Juliet, or Healthcliff and Catherine, but successful, happy romance like Elizabeth and Darcy, Jane and Edward, or Weasley and Buttercup. It's warm and soothing, a bit dreamy, and well...romantic.
We won't have another Masters concert until the new year. In the mean time I'll have to bide my time with a couple of upcoming Canadian singer-song writer concerts.
Ciao,
Andrea
P.S. If you're reading this through Facebook, you will no longer be able to do so as of November 22nd. You will need to visit my actual blog site where you can then add it to any reader service you might use, or you can bookmark it and visit it every now and again.
I think Andrew and I both felt a bit so-so over the Forsyth--for which a part of me thinks I should feel bad about because this was his final composition before he died. It's not that it was bad, but it was just okay. A Ballad of Canada is a combined orchestra and choral work (the voices were provided by the Richard Eaton Singers) and was co-commissioned by the Edmonton Symphony Orchestra and the National Arts Centre Orchestra. This piece was broken down into five movements, which represented different geographical areas of Canada, or different historical time periods. It started off in the North with a tribute to the Northern Lights. There's a specific sort of sound that composers create when the depict the Lights, or stars, etc with lots of tremelo strings and it was the case for this piece as well. The second section, which I remember distinctly commemorated WWI with heavy drums and brass to simulate the feeling of being at war--it certainly was effective. After that much of the rest of the piece ran into each other, with many discordant bits from the orchestra, while the lyrics sung by the choir were based on a series of poems. As I said, the Ballad was all right, but it hasn't really stuck with me three or four days later.
The second piece, Apophenia, was inspired by the idea that you can listen to Pink Floyd's The Dark Side of the Moon, while watching the Wizard of Oz and the music will match the action. If you think from this preliminary description that the piece was probably a bit frenetic, you're right. It was frenetic in an interesting and exciting way. The piece was highly rhythmical, and featured Edmonton native Jens Lindemann on solo trumpet--rather on four solo trumpets. Yeah. It was pretty impressive, he had to switch trumpets between movements. As a string player I can only imagine the breath and embouchure control required to successfully play this piece. It was, as the program reads in several places 'fast and furious.' As I explained to one of my co-workers, I'm not sure I so much enjoyed this music, but more appreciated the skill required to play it. The range of tones produced by the trumpet, the complex rhythms and the speed were all pretty impressive. Before I move on, I must complement the drummer. He put on a phenomenal improvised drum solo during the third movement.
Finally, Rachmaninoff's Symphony No. 2 in E minor, Opus 27. According to the program notes, Rachmaninoff's first symphony was a flop, so when the second symphony premiered he decided to conducted it himself. Whether that was the charm needed or not, it seems to have worked. The second symphony is beautiful--although massive, running more than fifty minutes long. Apparently after the premier Rachmaninoff made cuts to the manuscript, which were retained for a long time. At some point (I don't know when) orchestras began playing the whole work, which is what we heard on Friday. After the lively first movement, someone from the audience shouted out 'Play it again,' which garnered a dirty look from Bill, who already seemed fatigued from the work of conducting. When we reached the third movement of the symphony, I thought to myself, this music is the sound romance, pure and simple. Not tragic romance, not Romeo and Juliet, or Healthcliff and Catherine, but successful, happy romance like Elizabeth and Darcy, Jane and Edward, or Weasley and Buttercup. It's warm and soothing, a bit dreamy, and well...romantic.
We won't have another Masters concert until the new year. In the mean time I'll have to bide my time with a couple of upcoming Canadian singer-song writer concerts.
Ciao,
Andrea
P.S. If you're reading this through Facebook, you will no longer be able to do so as of November 22nd. You will need to visit my actual blog site where you can then add it to any reader service you might use, or you can bookmark it and visit it every now and again.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
The mistake I made (and others I will likely make in the future)
In grade 4 we received stars for our spelling tests based on how close we were to perfect. Something like a gold star for no mistakes, silver for 1, bronze for 2, etc. I have always been challenged by spelling (I really hated it when I'd ask how to spell something and be told to sound it out. If I knew how to spell it based on it's sound, I wouldn't be asking for help...). I was a good student aside from spelling and eventually my teacher granted me a special star for having only 4 mistakes because I did try and I think I may have been upset that I had very few spelling stars.
I'm also challenged by grammar. I've read several books on the subject (including the popular Eats, Shoots, and Leaves) and I've taken a couple of copy editing courses. Still I tend to apply the rules of the English language in my own unique way. I partly blame the school system, which to my recollection spent very little time on teaching grammar outside of what nouns, verbs, and pronouns were (useful knowledge for playing Ad Libs). The other part is me, I suppose. The rules just won't sink in. I've always had to have someone proof reading my school assignments. My mother when I was younger, my husband after we were married. He says I've improved since when he first read my work, but the typos and other mistakes I make can leave something to be desired (I also fear he's getting too fluent in Andrea-ese to pick up on my errors).
Despite my best efforts to spell-check and proof read my blog posts, errors slip in. I try. I really do. Even in my The Cure manuscript (which has been read by four or five people other than myself) I found errors in my last read-through. Oi. So, when I discovered the typo in my most resent blog post I let out a huge groan. How could I make such a blatant error and not catch it? Admittedly, I sometime forget to check my titles, but still. What, pray-tell is the ESP? E-S-P? Double Oi.
ESO. Edmonton Symphony Orchestra. My apologies.
I know I could have just changed my blog post title. I get about 3 or 4 page hits per post, so it's not as if many people saw my mistake. Still--ugh.
Ciao,
Andrea
I'm also challenged by grammar. I've read several books on the subject (including the popular Eats, Shoots, and Leaves) and I've taken a couple of copy editing courses. Still I tend to apply the rules of the English language in my own unique way. I partly blame the school system, which to my recollection spent very little time on teaching grammar outside of what nouns, verbs, and pronouns were (useful knowledge for playing Ad Libs). The other part is me, I suppose. The rules just won't sink in. I've always had to have someone proof reading my school assignments. My mother when I was younger, my husband after we were married. He says I've improved since when he first read my work, but the typos and other mistakes I make can leave something to be desired (I also fear he's getting too fluent in Andrea-ese to pick up on my errors).
Despite my best efforts to spell-check and proof read my blog posts, errors slip in. I try. I really do. Even in my The Cure manuscript (which has been read by four or five people other than myself) I found errors in my last read-through. Oi. So, when I discovered the typo in my most resent blog post I let out a huge groan. How could I make such a blatant error and not catch it? Admittedly, I sometime forget to check my titles, but still. What, pray-tell is the ESP? E-S-P? Double Oi.
ESO. Edmonton Symphony Orchestra. My apologies.
I know I could have just changed my blog post title. I get about 3 or 4 page hits per post, so it's not as if many people saw my mistake. Still--ugh.
Ciao,
Andrea
Friday, October 7, 2011
New seats and a new season at the ESP
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
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
Sunday, July 3, 2011
A Latin-inspired season finale at the ESO
I'm falling behind. In previous years I've been pretty good about keeping up with the ESO concerts (and other theatrical events) I've attended. I completely missed blogging about one earlier in the season, and I'm a couple of weeks behind on this one. I didn't want to let the season finale of the Friday Night Master's concert series go without a mention--it was an excellent concert. Full orchestra, great selections, both Bill and Lucus took the conductors stand, it was pretty darn awesome. However, since my memory is getting a bit hazy around the details, I'm going to make this blog post short and sweet.
The first half of the concert had a Latin flavour to it, which was delightful. I would imagine that when many people think of a symphony orchestra, they think stodgy, boring music with grand overtones, not Latin rhythms. The first selection by Spanish composer Manuel de Falla was anything but boring. Bill played the piano for this, Noches en los Jardines de Espana (“Nights in the Gardens of Spain”) while Lucus conducted. As explained later at the after thoughts, Bill was going to conduct from the piano until he remember the last time a someone conducted and played this piece where things fell a part and the orchestra members were missing cues. The ESO performed it splendidly and I think I might like to get a recording, definitely a new favourite.
The remainder of the evening featured music by Ravel. To follow the Latin theme the first half featured Rapsodie Espanole then in the second half, the full score of Daphnis and Chloe. I have exerts of Daphnis and Chloe on CD (on the same one with Bolero--which I requested after discovering Torvil and Dean when I was about 12), but had never heard the whole thing. I understand the whole Daphnis and Chloe suite is rarely reformed (the exerts are far more common) and I can understand why. It required a full orchestra--I think I tried to count at one point and there were close to 100 performers, including 2 auxiliary percussionists (something like 6 or 7 in total). One got to operate a 'wind machine.'* And the melodic themes were constantly changing; however it's a beautiful piece and I think it's considered Ravel's masterpiece, even if he didn't enjoy writing it.
I think that's all I'm going to say. Sorry, no comments on the Rapsodie Espanole, as I started off by saying, this concert took place more than 2 weeks ago, and my memory is waning. It was a fantastic end to the season; however, and I'm looking forward to next year. Andrew and I will be moving from our dead-centre row seats to a loge. We decided we've had enough of crawling over knees, but I'm sure everything will sound just as good from the side.
Ciao,
Andrea
*We wondered for a good chunk of the evening what on earth the thing sitting at the side of the stage was, and I'm not sure I can adequately describe it now. There was a cloth draped over a wood frame and there was a crank on one end. It made what could be best described as 'wind sound effects' and was constructed by the head percussionist.
The first half of the concert had a Latin flavour to it, which was delightful. I would imagine that when many people think of a symphony orchestra, they think stodgy, boring music with grand overtones, not Latin rhythms. The first selection by Spanish composer Manuel de Falla was anything but boring. Bill played the piano for this, Noches en los Jardines de Espana (“Nights in the Gardens of Spain”) while Lucus conducted. As explained later at the after thoughts, Bill was going to conduct from the piano until he remember the last time a someone conducted and played this piece where things fell a part and the orchestra members were missing cues. The ESO performed it splendidly and I think I might like to get a recording, definitely a new favourite.
The remainder of the evening featured music by Ravel. To follow the Latin theme the first half featured Rapsodie Espanole then in the second half, the full score of Daphnis and Chloe. I have exerts of Daphnis and Chloe on CD (on the same one with Bolero--which I requested after discovering Torvil and Dean when I was about 12), but had never heard the whole thing. I understand the whole Daphnis and Chloe suite is rarely reformed (the exerts are far more common) and I can understand why. It required a full orchestra--I think I tried to count at one point and there were close to 100 performers, including 2 auxiliary percussionists (something like 6 or 7 in total). One got to operate a 'wind machine.'* And the melodic themes were constantly changing; however it's a beautiful piece and I think it's considered Ravel's masterpiece, even if he didn't enjoy writing it.
I think that's all I'm going to say. Sorry, no comments on the Rapsodie Espanole, as I started off by saying, this concert took place more than 2 weeks ago, and my memory is waning. It was a fantastic end to the season; however, and I'm looking forward to next year. Andrew and I will be moving from our dead-centre row seats to a loge. We decided we've had enough of crawling over knees, but I'm sure everything will sound just as good from the side.
Ciao,
Andrea
*We wondered for a good chunk of the evening what on earth the thing sitting at the side of the stage was, and I'm not sure I can adequately describe it now. There was a cloth draped over a wood frame and there was a crank on one end. It made what could be best described as 'wind sound effects' and was constructed by the head percussionist.
Monday, May 23, 2011
Music and Company at the ESO
Last Thursday evening Andrew and I attended an extra ESO concert that wasn't apart of our normal Friday Night Master's series. It was a Robbin's Lighter Classics concert (the last one of the season, too), and the reason we attended was it was hosted by CBC radio announcer Tom Allen. I love Tom Allen (as a radio broadcast personality of course, I've never met him in person). He seems to read lots of interesting articles and of a wide scope (which he shares with he listeners), he seems thoughtful and most importantly, to love music. I initially came to know of him as the host of Music and Company, the early morning classical show that ran on CBC2 before the formatting change that hit the Corporation a couple of years ago. Afterward he was one of the few (the only?) hosts who stayed with the CBC first on Radio 2 Morning, then on the afternoon slot for the program Shift. Needless to say, I was quiet excited to see Tom live with the ESO.
The ESO concert was billed as: Tom Allen's Classical Goodtime Variety show and we certainly had a good time. The evening started off favourably with the orchestra striking up the theme to Tom's old show Scherzo for Stephen by Saul Honigman, during which Tom strode out onto stage to thunderous applause. I imagine that many of us in the audience have fond memories of listening to Music and Company, and the evening proceeded as if we were listening to a broadcast of the show. Tom provided commentary throughout the show of what we were listening, ran some of the features he used to, such as the popular: Cage Match. We laughed, cheered, and even occasionally booed. As much as I enjoy going to the ESO, I can't remember the last time I had so much fun at a concert.
The first feature of the evening was 'This Day in History' (May 19th), which happened to mark the 475th anniversary of the beheading of Anne Boleyn--certainly a cheerful way to start the evening. It was a mournful little piece featuring strings, a couple of woodwinds, and apparently it was the song Anne sung to comfort herself the night before she died. Yes, definitely cheerful, but rather pretty. Andrew wished there had been more to it. Then the tone of the concert flipped. I suppose in the hearts of some Canadians the next tune has an equally sad history, it's introduction certainly incurred jeers (because it's no longer heard on the CBC), it was the Hockey Night in Canada theme. After being encouraged to applaud and cheer if we felt so moved, we were then asked to participate in announcing the Cage Match. The percussionists had the staring role here. One of the players ran some kind of chain over a symbol, I think (we were a bit far away to tell exactly what was being used), then a second player pounded on a huge gong, and finally the audience was called upon to shout: 'CAGE MATCH'. The composers pitted against each other: Hayden's Symphony No. 104 in D major versus. Mendelssohn's A Midsummer Night’s Dream: Overture (more about this later).
The last selection before intermission was a series exerts from Bizet's Carmen, supplemented with commentary by Tom. As a figure skating nut, I've been familiar with the music of Carmen for years (Calgary 1988, Debbi Tomas versus Katarina Witt. Poor Debbi never really stood a chance against Katarina's drama). Andrew and I went to see the Opera a few years ago when the Edmonton Opera performed it (I think we went on our anniversary, actually). I enjoyed it, although Andrew wasn't so keen; however, he remarked when we got home on Thursday that he now actually felt more inclined to see it again. He confessed he'd found it difficult to follow the story when we saw it at the Opera (they do project subtitles over the stage, but it's a bit tricky to read and watch at the same time). Of course, when Tom read the story, he added his own storytelling flare, making it seem funnier, more light-hearted than it really is.
Moving along...after intermission we listened to Handel (Water music), Mozart (Horn Concerto No 1.) and Beethoven (Symphony No. 5)--how can you go wrong with a line-up like that? The Mozart featured the guest conductor James Sommerville on horn, meanwhile 'a la Bob Dillian', Tom displayed cue cards on which disparaging comments were written. The messages weren't directed at Mr. Sommerville or his playing, but were translations of what Mozart wrote on the original score for his pal Joseph Leutgeb (Leutgeb was a talented horn player and this concerto was written for him). In the tradition of close friendships, the messages could have been seen as incredibly insulting (there was something about Leutgeb being a pain in Mozart's balls...) but were really just poking good fun. The audience giggled throughout much of the performance.
Josef Mysliveček was the inspiration for the next section (I'm pretty sure I've heard Tom talk about this composer before on his shows). He was a Czech composer who essentially lived fast and died reasonably young (43 years old). He was famous in his time, inspired Mozart, and is all but forgotten now. Mysliveček wrote a pile of music (Wikipedia article here) including 26 operas, received commissions all over Europe, but spent his money as fast as he made it. Sadly he died destitute in 1781 (with no nose, to boot--it was burnt off by a doctor). Nonetheless, his music was beautiful and you could easily confuse it for Mozart if you didn't know any better. Of course, as Tom pointed out, it's not that Mysliveček sounds like Mozart, it's that Mozart sounds like Mysliveček. It's too bad his music isn't heard more often, I don't think I've ever heard it played anywhere else. The ESO performed Mysliveček's Symphony in A major: I. Allegro con brio and Symphony in G major: III. Presto assai.
Next, and without warning came: CAGE MATCH (Tom told us he would give the signal without precursor so the audience had to be ready--I only managed to join in halfway). Just like on his show, Tom took votes for what the audience wanted to hear. During intermission voting boxes were made available in the lobby, and we were encouraged to write a reason for why we made our choice on our ballets. I'm guessing several Winspear employees had to quicky sift through all the entries (around 900, I think) once the show recommenced to pick the ones they liked the best. Three were read out loud on stage, one for Hayden and two for Mendelssohn, which was representative of how the vote went. Approximately 300 votes were casted for Hayden, 600 for Mendelssohn (I'd voted for the former, but I like both just fine).
And that was pretty much the show. Delightful really. I'm hoping Tom will be back at his post on Shift this afternoon, since I'll be home to listen (I usually listen at work too). The last piece we heard for the evening was selected for being a big finish: Brahms Symphony No. 2 in D major: IV. Allegro con spirito. It ended with lots of tympani, lots of brass and was an excellent way to cap off the show.
Only one more ESO concert to go for the year, the Master's series finale on June 17th,
Ciao,
Andrea
The ESO concert was billed as: Tom Allen's Classical Goodtime Variety show and we certainly had a good time. The evening started off favourably with the orchestra striking up the theme to Tom's old show Scherzo for Stephen by Saul Honigman, during which Tom strode out onto stage to thunderous applause. I imagine that many of us in the audience have fond memories of listening to Music and Company, and the evening proceeded as if we were listening to a broadcast of the show. Tom provided commentary throughout the show of what we were listening, ran some of the features he used to, such as the popular: Cage Match. We laughed, cheered, and even occasionally booed. As much as I enjoy going to the ESO, I can't remember the last time I had so much fun at a concert.
The first feature of the evening was 'This Day in History' (May 19th), which happened to mark the 475th anniversary of the beheading of Anne Boleyn--certainly a cheerful way to start the evening. It was a mournful little piece featuring strings, a couple of woodwinds, and apparently it was the song Anne sung to comfort herself the night before she died. Yes, definitely cheerful, but rather pretty. Andrew wished there had been more to it. Then the tone of the concert flipped. I suppose in the hearts of some Canadians the next tune has an equally sad history, it's introduction certainly incurred jeers (because it's no longer heard on the CBC), it was the Hockey Night in Canada theme. After being encouraged to applaud and cheer if we felt so moved, we were then asked to participate in announcing the Cage Match. The percussionists had the staring role here. One of the players ran some kind of chain over a symbol, I think (we were a bit far away to tell exactly what was being used), then a second player pounded on a huge gong, and finally the audience was called upon to shout: 'CAGE MATCH'. The composers pitted against each other: Hayden's Symphony No. 104 in D major versus. Mendelssohn's A Midsummer Night’s Dream: Overture (more about this later).
The last selection before intermission was a series exerts from Bizet's Carmen, supplemented with commentary by Tom. As a figure skating nut, I've been familiar with the music of Carmen for years (Calgary 1988, Debbi Tomas versus Katarina Witt. Poor Debbi never really stood a chance against Katarina's drama). Andrew and I went to see the Opera a few years ago when the Edmonton Opera performed it (I think we went on our anniversary, actually). I enjoyed it, although Andrew wasn't so keen; however, he remarked when we got home on Thursday that he now actually felt more inclined to see it again. He confessed he'd found it difficult to follow the story when we saw it at the Opera (they do project subtitles over the stage, but it's a bit tricky to read and watch at the same time). Of course, when Tom read the story, he added his own storytelling flare, making it seem funnier, more light-hearted than it really is.
Moving along...after intermission we listened to Handel (Water music), Mozart (Horn Concerto No 1.) and Beethoven (Symphony No. 5)--how can you go wrong with a line-up like that? The Mozart featured the guest conductor James Sommerville on horn, meanwhile 'a la Bob Dillian', Tom displayed cue cards on which disparaging comments were written. The messages weren't directed at Mr. Sommerville or his playing, but were translations of what Mozart wrote on the original score for his pal Joseph Leutgeb (Leutgeb was a talented horn player and this concerto was written for him). In the tradition of close friendships, the messages could have been seen as incredibly insulting (there was something about Leutgeb being a pain in Mozart's balls...) but were really just poking good fun. The audience giggled throughout much of the performance.
Josef Mysliveček was the inspiration for the next section (I'm pretty sure I've heard Tom talk about this composer before on his shows). He was a Czech composer who essentially lived fast and died reasonably young (43 years old). He was famous in his time, inspired Mozart, and is all but forgotten now. Mysliveček wrote a pile of music (Wikipedia article here) including 26 operas, received commissions all over Europe, but spent his money as fast as he made it. Sadly he died destitute in 1781 (with no nose, to boot--it was burnt off by a doctor). Nonetheless, his music was beautiful and you could easily confuse it for Mozart if you didn't know any better. Of course, as Tom pointed out, it's not that Mysliveček sounds like Mozart, it's that Mozart sounds like Mysliveček. It's too bad his music isn't heard more often, I don't think I've ever heard it played anywhere else. The ESO performed Mysliveček's Symphony in A major: I. Allegro con brio and Symphony in G major: III. Presto assai.
Next, and without warning came: CAGE MATCH (Tom told us he would give the signal without precursor so the audience had to be ready--I only managed to join in halfway). Just like on his show, Tom took votes for what the audience wanted to hear. During intermission voting boxes were made available in the lobby, and we were encouraged to write a reason for why we made our choice on our ballets. I'm guessing several Winspear employees had to quicky sift through all the entries (around 900, I think) once the show recommenced to pick the ones they liked the best. Three were read out loud on stage, one for Hayden and two for Mendelssohn, which was representative of how the vote went. Approximately 300 votes were casted for Hayden, 600 for Mendelssohn (I'd voted for the former, but I like both just fine).
And that was pretty much the show. Delightful really. I'm hoping Tom will be back at his post on Shift this afternoon, since I'll be home to listen (I usually listen at work too). The last piece we heard for the evening was selected for being a big finish: Brahms Symphony No. 2 in D major: IV. Allegro con spirito. It ended with lots of tympani, lots of brass and was an excellent way to cap off the show.
Only one more ESO concert to go for the year, the Master's series finale on June 17th,
Ciao,
Andrea
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Blind appreciation at the ESO
Friday night was our regular Masters Series concert at the ESO. We started out the evening with dinner at the Sugar Bowl, which we've been to before, but not for dinner. The Sugar Bowl appeals to Andrew and I because they have a huge selection of tasty beers (lots of imports and microbreweries) and their food is relatively inexpensive. We arrived around 5:30 (after finishing up at the gym) to find it relatively full, but managed to get a seat without a wait. Dinner started out with paprika popcorn (I love that they offer popcorn as an appetizer), which was super delicious, then moved onto main courses of curried chicken and vegetable stew for me, and poutine for Andrew. I love desert and rarely do we go to a restaurant without at least perusing the desert listings. We ended up ordering one a piece: banana cream pie, and chocolate cranberry oatmeal cookies (made fresh)--although as it turned out we would have been fine sharing either of them.
We had just enough time after dinner to make it over to Winspear and take a quick glance over their program before the performance began. Three pieces were planned for the evening. First, Tchal-Kouyrouk and the seventh side of the cube by a young Montreal composer, Rachmaninoff's Piano Concerto No. 2 in C minor, Opus 18, and finally Shostakovich's Symphony No. 5 in D minor, Op.47.
The composer of Tchal-Kouyrouk, Nicolas Gilbert, was in the audience on Friday and had a little chat with the ESO's conductor-in-residence, Lucas Waldin, on stage prior to the performance. To be honest, I don't remember much of their conversation (I wasn't completely with it on Friday night, as you'll soon see), but what I do remember was the composer explaining that the theme of 'seven' played heavily in the piece. I tired to watch the conductor during the performance to see what kind of beat he was keeping--it seemed to be a four beat, followed by a three (which, yes, equals seven). I don't think I liked it exactly the piece, no doubt meant to be avant garde. It seemed like sections of the orchestra would play, then stop, while other sections took up the music, but they never played all at once. Other than that, no real lasting impression for this piece has stuck with me.
The second piece was the famous Rachmaninoff's 2nd Piano Concerto. Even non-classical music fans have probably heard this piece. It's frequently used by figure skaters, and if you've seen Center Stage it's featured prominently at the end as the music for 'Jonathan's Ballet.' I have a recording of it myself, although I don't recall the recording pianist or orchestra. On Friday, the guest performer was Nobuyuki Tsujii, a blind pianist from Japan. Blind, you might ask? Yes. Was he any good, you might ask? He received an almost instantaneous standing ovation the second he stopped playing, so yes, he was very good. I can understand being able to play the piano while being blind (I recall being drilled in locating notes on the piano with a piece of cardboard covering my hands when I took lessons), what really boggles my mind is learning the music. Rachmaninoff's 2nd is no walk in the park (it's approximately 30 minutes in length). Did Mr. Tsujii learn it by ear? Is there some sort of computer program, or perhaps Braille music for blind pianist? I don't know. Regardless, he dazzled the audience and even came back out to play an encore.
Sadly, both Andrew and I were falling asleep during this performance. I don't remember ever having such a hard time staying awake at a concert before. Usually I sort out plot problems while I listen--something about the music seems to agree with my brain (I'm 99% sure studies have been conducted to determine the affects classical music has on the brain). On Friday, however, I felt so ridiculously tired that I couldn't keep my eyes open, and I definitely missed portions of the music. I couldn't even remain conscious for the Shostakovich symphony and it's a fairly lively selection (albeit 46 minutes in length).
For what of it I was awake, I enjoyed the Shostakovich. I generally prefer early 20th century Russian composers--I often feel they're music is more interesting and creative than many of the earlier classical composers (I've never been a big Mozart fan--is that sacrilegious to say so?). I particularly liked the forth movement (which I recognized once we got to it). It starts off big, with brass and drums--lots of fun. As explained in the programme notes, the 5th symphony was written after Shostakovich received heavy/damning criticism for his Macbeth opera from the official Soviet newspaper of the time, so it was meant to please his critics. It was reportedly successful in it's task, even bringing audience members to tears; however on Friday night I noticed some Edmonton audience members leaving during the first movement. Maybe they were tired like me, or maybe they didn't like it, I don't know. It was just a few people though, so hopefully it wasn't the material, just busy lives.
We have two more ESO concerts before the end of the season. The next (not a Master Series concert) features CBC radio host Tom Allen, which I'm very much looking forward to seeing/hearing.
Ciao,
Andrea
We had just enough time after dinner to make it over to Winspear and take a quick glance over their program before the performance began. Three pieces were planned for the evening. First, Tchal-Kouyrouk and the seventh side of the cube by a young Montreal composer, Rachmaninoff's Piano Concerto No. 2 in C minor, Opus 18, and finally Shostakovich's Symphony No. 5 in D minor, Op.47.
The composer of Tchal-Kouyrouk, Nicolas Gilbert, was in the audience on Friday and had a little chat with the ESO's conductor-in-residence, Lucas Waldin, on stage prior to the performance. To be honest, I don't remember much of their conversation (I wasn't completely with it on Friday night, as you'll soon see), but what I do remember was the composer explaining that the theme of 'seven' played heavily in the piece. I tired to watch the conductor during the performance to see what kind of beat he was keeping--it seemed to be a four beat, followed by a three (which, yes, equals seven). I don't think I liked it exactly the piece, no doubt meant to be avant garde. It seemed like sections of the orchestra would play, then stop, while other sections took up the music, but they never played all at once. Other than that, no real lasting impression for this piece has stuck with me.
The second piece was the famous Rachmaninoff's 2nd Piano Concerto. Even non-classical music fans have probably heard this piece. It's frequently used by figure skaters, and if you've seen Center Stage it's featured prominently at the end as the music for 'Jonathan's Ballet.' I have a recording of it myself, although I don't recall the recording pianist or orchestra. On Friday, the guest performer was Nobuyuki Tsujii, a blind pianist from Japan. Blind, you might ask? Yes. Was he any good, you might ask? He received an almost instantaneous standing ovation the second he stopped playing, so yes, he was very good. I can understand being able to play the piano while being blind (I recall being drilled in locating notes on the piano with a piece of cardboard covering my hands when I took lessons), what really boggles my mind is learning the music. Rachmaninoff's 2nd is no walk in the park (it's approximately 30 minutes in length). Did Mr. Tsujii learn it by ear? Is there some sort of computer program, or perhaps Braille music for blind pianist? I don't know. Regardless, he dazzled the audience and even came back out to play an encore.
Sadly, both Andrew and I were falling asleep during this performance. I don't remember ever having such a hard time staying awake at a concert before. Usually I sort out plot problems while I listen--something about the music seems to agree with my brain (I'm 99% sure studies have been conducted to determine the affects classical music has on the brain). On Friday, however, I felt so ridiculously tired that I couldn't keep my eyes open, and I definitely missed portions of the music. I couldn't even remain conscious for the Shostakovich symphony and it's a fairly lively selection (albeit 46 minutes in length).
For what of it I was awake, I enjoyed the Shostakovich. I generally prefer early 20th century Russian composers--I often feel they're music is more interesting and creative than many of the earlier classical composers (I've never been a big Mozart fan--is that sacrilegious to say so?). I particularly liked the forth movement (which I recognized once we got to it). It starts off big, with brass and drums--lots of fun. As explained in the programme notes, the 5th symphony was written after Shostakovich received heavy/damning criticism for his Macbeth opera from the official Soviet newspaper of the time, so it was meant to please his critics. It was reportedly successful in it's task, even bringing audience members to tears; however on Friday night I noticed some Edmonton audience members leaving during the first movement. Maybe they were tired like me, or maybe they didn't like it, I don't know. It was just a few people though, so hopefully it wasn't the material, just busy lives.
We have two more ESO concerts before the end of the season. The next (not a Master Series concert) features CBC radio host Tom Allen, which I'm very much looking forward to seeing/hearing.
Ciao,
Andrea
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
Monday, November 15, 2010
The violin delights at the ESO (and so does the oboe)
This past Friday night was our regular Master Series concert at the ESO. We'd experienced our first session with a personal trainer that afternoon, and so had to rush through dinner to get ourselves out the door in time to walk down to the Winspear. Thankfully the night was pleasant and clear, and we were able to walk rather than drive. We got there with ten or fifteen minutes to spare so we had plenty of time to settle in and peruse the ESO program book. While I'm sharing my thoughts, I'm going to throw out this: I'm not a big fan of the new format of the program book. I feel like there are too many colours, too many different fonts and too many graphics (or at least larger ones) in the write-ups of the features music--but that's just my opinion.
On to the music...
The first selection was Handel's Royal Fireworks music. What is there to say about the Fireworks? It's well...classic. Even the orchestra at W.C.I played it when I was in grade 11 (I think), not nearly as good as the ESO, of course. It's been sometime since I've heard the entire piece (although I'm sure I've heard it on the CBC) and found I was not as familiar with the short movements after the overture as I thought I was. The ESO sounded wonderful, rich and expressive as always. It was a pleasant start to the concert.
After the Fireworks came two contemporary selections written by living composers. The first was Requiem for the Victims of a War Torn World by Malcolm Forsyth. To be honest, I didn't care much for this selection, and not for the reasons I think other people might have not liked it. The write up in the program states: "The imagery is clearly on the opposites: foreboding, discord on the one hand--peace and hope on the other." I expected something really weird with clashing chords that were tough on the ears, and there was a little of that, but I found the repetitious quarter or eight notes (I'm not sure which) unimaginative. After performing Threnody by R. Murray Schafer, in high school, it just wasn't weird enough.
The second contemporary selection was Borealis by John Estacio. I felt that this piece lived up to my expectations more successfully than the previous one. I expected it to sound shimmery (as it was inspired by the Northern Lights) and it did. It also had four (maybe five?) xylophone-type instruments, which I thought rather interesting, and thus my attention was drawn toward the percussion section for pretty much the entire performance (there were also three gongs, tympani, and possibly some other drums, which I've forgotten about at this point). The composer used a technique called glissing, where the musician bends the note their holding up or down to the next one, rather than playing two distinct notes. When the orchestra did this en masse it sort of reminded me of the sound-check thing you get at the beginning of movies, but it was still an interesting effect.
The second half of the night featured two short pieces, one by Bach (Concerto for Oboe and Violin in C minor) and one by Mendelssohn (Violin Concerto in E minor). The former featured the principle oboist of the ESO, Lidia Khaner, and guest violinist, Elmer Oliviera. I love the oboe. I'm not sure why, I only learned the basics of the clarinet (being primarily a piano and string player), and I know some people equate the oboe's sound to a quacking duck, but I enjoy it all the same. The Bach piece was sort of a conversation between the oboe and the violin, with the rest of the orchestra just there to fill in the gaps. The program notes inform me that this piece was written as 'special occasion' music, meaning that it was commissioned by Prince Leopold of Anhalt-Cothen for a specific event, unlikely to be performed again. Additionally, it's likely that this Concerto was used as the basis for another for two harpsichords, likewise composed for a single event. Regardless of how often it might have been heard during Bach's life time, this was a delightful piece that effectively showed off its two main instruments.
Finally, the Mendelssohn Concerto. This is one of those pieces I absolutely love, because of some mental block, I can never remember who wrote it or what it's called. Therefore, after hearing the first couple of bars I got excited when I realized what I was listening to. My fond memories of this piece stem back to a cassette tape that used to get played in my family's car on trips, called: Hooked on Classics. The tape included what was essentially a mashup of classical works put to a beat (I know, an absolutely dreadful idea, but this was the 80s). There's something about this wickedly complex piece and its jolly theme that just strikes a chord with me, but even if I wasn't already predisposed to enjoy this performance, the violinist, Oliveria, was extraordinary. For starters, he's the only American violinist to ever win the gold medal at the Tchaikovsky Competition in Russia. If that doesn't suggest to you how good he was, I'm not sure I can describe it. As a second note, of the last three years Andrew and I have been subscribers to the ESO, he had the longest and loudest standing ovation I've ever seen for a guest musician. Yeah, that good.
As per usual for a Friday night, the performance concluded with an After Thoughts session with music director Bill Eddins, Estacio, Khaner, and Oliveria. Of particular interest was Oliveria's discussion of his violins. His primary instrument is a 1729/30 Guarneri del Gesu, but what he played for us on Friday was a three-year old Chinese made instrument. Apparently, Chinese workshops are becoming highly noted for their stringed instruments and Oliveria likes to play them along with other contemporary makers. I would never have guessed his violin was of Chinese descent. It sounded wonderfully rich, but then an outstanding violinist can make any instrument sound good.
As long as I've read my schedule correctly, this is our last ESO concert until the new year. Good thing as I don't know when we'd squeeze another one in anyway.
Ciao,
Andrea
On to the music...
The first selection was Handel's Royal Fireworks music. What is there to say about the Fireworks? It's well...classic. Even the orchestra at W.C.I played it when I was in grade 11 (I think), not nearly as good as the ESO, of course. It's been sometime since I've heard the entire piece (although I'm sure I've heard it on the CBC) and found I was not as familiar with the short movements after the overture as I thought I was. The ESO sounded wonderful, rich and expressive as always. It was a pleasant start to the concert.
After the Fireworks came two contemporary selections written by living composers. The first was Requiem for the Victims of a War Torn World by Malcolm Forsyth. To be honest, I didn't care much for this selection, and not for the reasons I think other people might have not liked it. The write up in the program states: "The imagery is clearly on the opposites: foreboding, discord on the one hand--peace and hope on the other." I expected something really weird with clashing chords that were tough on the ears, and there was a little of that, but I found the repetitious quarter or eight notes (I'm not sure which) unimaginative. After performing Threnody by R. Murray Schafer, in high school, it just wasn't weird enough.
The second contemporary selection was Borealis by John Estacio. I felt that this piece lived up to my expectations more successfully than the previous one. I expected it to sound shimmery (as it was inspired by the Northern Lights) and it did. It also had four (maybe five?) xylophone-type instruments, which I thought rather interesting, and thus my attention was drawn toward the percussion section for pretty much the entire performance (there were also three gongs, tympani, and possibly some other drums, which I've forgotten about at this point). The composer used a technique called glissing, where the musician bends the note their holding up or down to the next one, rather than playing two distinct notes. When the orchestra did this en masse it sort of reminded me of the sound-check thing you get at the beginning of movies, but it was still an interesting effect.
The second half of the night featured two short pieces, one by Bach (Concerto for Oboe and Violin in C minor) and one by Mendelssohn (Violin Concerto in E minor). The former featured the principle oboist of the ESO, Lidia Khaner, and guest violinist, Elmer Oliviera. I love the oboe. I'm not sure why, I only learned the basics of the clarinet (being primarily a piano and string player), and I know some people equate the oboe's sound to a quacking duck, but I enjoy it all the same. The Bach piece was sort of a conversation between the oboe and the violin, with the rest of the orchestra just there to fill in the gaps. The program notes inform me that this piece was written as 'special occasion' music, meaning that it was commissioned by Prince Leopold of Anhalt-Cothen for a specific event, unlikely to be performed again. Additionally, it's likely that this Concerto was used as the basis for another for two harpsichords, likewise composed for a single event. Regardless of how often it might have been heard during Bach's life time, this was a delightful piece that effectively showed off its two main instruments.
Finally, the Mendelssohn Concerto. This is one of those pieces I absolutely love, because of some mental block, I can never remember who wrote it or what it's called. Therefore, after hearing the first couple of bars I got excited when I realized what I was listening to. My fond memories of this piece stem back to a cassette tape that used to get played in my family's car on trips, called: Hooked on Classics. The tape included what was essentially a mashup of classical works put to a beat (I know, an absolutely dreadful idea, but this was the 80s). There's something about this wickedly complex piece and its jolly theme that just strikes a chord with me, but even if I wasn't already predisposed to enjoy this performance, the violinist, Oliveria, was extraordinary. For starters, he's the only American violinist to ever win the gold medal at the Tchaikovsky Competition in Russia. If that doesn't suggest to you how good he was, I'm not sure I can describe it. As a second note, of the last three years Andrew and I have been subscribers to the ESO, he had the longest and loudest standing ovation I've ever seen for a guest musician. Yeah, that good.
As per usual for a Friday night, the performance concluded with an After Thoughts session with music director Bill Eddins, Estacio, Khaner, and Oliveria. Of particular interest was Oliveria's discussion of his violins. His primary instrument is a 1729/30 Guarneri del Gesu, but what he played for us on Friday was a three-year old Chinese made instrument. Apparently, Chinese workshops are becoming highly noted for their stringed instruments and Oliveria likes to play them along with other contemporary makers. I would never have guessed his violin was of Chinese descent. It sounded wonderfully rich, but then an outstanding violinist can make any instrument sound good.
As long as I've read my schedule correctly, this is our last ESO concert until the new year. Good thing as I don't know when we'd squeeze another one in anyway.
Ciao,
Andrea
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Catching up by way of Jeopardy's favourite category: Potpourri
I haven't been a terribly active blogger these last few weeks. This because: a) my life is frankly not that interesting (but I blog about it anyway); and b) I've been busy writing/editing and I feel like any moment I'm at my home computer and not working on my manuscript is equivalent to goofing off. Therefore, it's time for a lightening round/potpourri blog post.
Toronto Marathon, October 17th, 2010
I believe I mentioned in passing that Andrew and I had planned to run the Toronto marathon when we were home in October. It started out rather lovely. The weather was good--sunny, but only around 13/14 degrees Celsius--we were enjoying running the streets of Toronto and recognizing places we'd been, and we were projecting a finish time of around 4 hours and 15 minutes at the halfway mark. Unfortunately, we didn't get there. My IT band burst into flames around the 30 km mark.
Okay, it didn't burst into flames, but it started to give me that old familiar feeling that if I didn't stop running, and soon, my knee would tear itself apart. I seem to have a 30 km cap on my IT band, as that is usually where it bothered me in our training runs. Sometimes I'd be able to keep going (as in our last 37 km training route), but there were a couple of times where we had to walk home. I was disappointed to stop (I think I actually started to hyperventilate and cry a bit), but I'm still able to run now, which might not have been the case if I'd tried to push through. We're taking it slow right now, having only run more than 5 km once since getting home. We're also transitioning into our Vibram Five-Fingers, which are awesome, but they take A LOT of getting used to.
Hotel MacDonald, October 23rd, 2010
Andrew and I celebrated our 6th anniversary (actually on the 22nd of October) as if we were rich by staying at the Hotel MacDonald in Edmonton. For those of you who aren't familiar with Edmonton's Hotel MacDonald, it's an old CP Rail Hotel built on the edge of the river valley and it's beautiful. We brought our camera with us intending to take pictures of the hotel and our room, but we never got around to it. We booked a suite as apart of a packaged deal where we got our room, dinner (excluding beverages), breakfast and valet parking all for one price. The food was marvelous. I had pork for my main, while Andrew went for the surf 'n turf (also the most expensive entree on the menu). We were absolutely stuffed at the end, but it was well worth it.
Chantel Kreviazuk and the ESO, November 1st, 2010
To be honest, neither Andrew or I are huge fans. We don't own any of Chantel's CDs, although we're familiar with her music--and she wrote my favourite Song Quest song, from the CBC challenge last year: "In Waskada Somewhere." However, when we saw the show advertised in the 2010-11 ESO program we thought it might be fun so we purchased tickets. We sat in our regular spots (dead centre, front row of the Upper Circle), and so had a good view of the stage.
I rather enjoyed the concert. I think Chantel has a strong singing voice, and is an excellent pianist. Attending the concert made me wish I had more time to practice (both the piano and singing), but I still lack the basic underlying skills to ever be better than the average individual who's completed their Grade 8 Royal Conservatory exam. She told the audience stories about the origins of her songs, which I think added a nice personal touch, and also made her seem quite human--like she might be fun to have a couple of beers with. I also thought the orchestra sounded splendid, as always. The orchestrations were lush and dramatic, and seemed as though each arrangement would be perfect for the final scene in an award-winning movie.
RED, November 5th, 2010
I'd noticed a couple of folks endorsed RED through their Facebook posts, but hadn't much notion of what the movie was about. A couple of weeks ago I even had a conversation about it with my skating coach. On a whim last Friday afternoon I thought I would check out the trailer and immediately thought: yes. Andrew and I hadn't been out to see a movie since How to Train Your Dragon at Easter, so this seemed like the perfect choice to break that streak. It was full of action (lots of guns), was completely silly, contained surprisingly few swear words, and a whole slew of big names (Bruce Willis, Helen Mirren, John Malkovich, and others). Andrew and I both enjoyed it immensely. And, it was partly filmed in Ontario--during a scene in the movie I leaned over to Andrew and said: I think that's the Toronto Reference Library! I couldn't find anything online to absolutely confirm this statement, but I'm pretty sure.
NaNoWriMo, all of November, 2010
Ah NaNoWriMo, how I love to hate you. I've previously blogged on my concerns regarding NaNoWriMo here, so I'm not going to re-hash my feelings now. What it does do is force me to write everyday, which I should be doing anyway. I've choosen to work on Nora's third and final story, which has been a lot of fun. I've realized that Nora's a lot like me in her neurotic, over worrying tendances, which is perhaps why she's so easy to write. Presently I'm at the halfway mark in my word count, and that's with a day on which I wrote absolutely nothing. I should get the 50,000 done with no problem, but I'm hoping to get more than that written, since I know 50,000 words is not enough for a completed novel.
Ciao,
Andrea
Toronto Marathon, October 17th, 2010
I believe I mentioned in passing that Andrew and I had planned to run the Toronto marathon when we were home in October. It started out rather lovely. The weather was good--sunny, but only around 13/14 degrees Celsius--we were enjoying running the streets of Toronto and recognizing places we'd been, and we were projecting a finish time of around 4 hours and 15 minutes at the halfway mark. Unfortunately, we didn't get there. My IT band burst into flames around the 30 km mark.
Okay, it didn't burst into flames, but it started to give me that old familiar feeling that if I didn't stop running, and soon, my knee would tear itself apart. I seem to have a 30 km cap on my IT band, as that is usually where it bothered me in our training runs. Sometimes I'd be able to keep going (as in our last 37 km training route), but there were a couple of times where we had to walk home. I was disappointed to stop (I think I actually started to hyperventilate and cry a bit), but I'm still able to run now, which might not have been the case if I'd tried to push through. We're taking it slow right now, having only run more than 5 km once since getting home. We're also transitioning into our Vibram Five-Fingers, which are awesome, but they take A LOT of getting used to.
Hotel MacDonald, October 23rd, 2010
Andrew and I celebrated our 6th anniversary (actually on the 22nd of October) as if we were rich by staying at the Hotel MacDonald in Edmonton. For those of you who aren't familiar with Edmonton's Hotel MacDonald, it's an old CP Rail Hotel built on the edge of the river valley and it's beautiful. We brought our camera with us intending to take pictures of the hotel and our room, but we never got around to it. We booked a suite as apart of a packaged deal where we got our room, dinner (excluding beverages), breakfast and valet parking all for one price. The food was marvelous. I had pork for my main, while Andrew went for the surf 'n turf (also the most expensive entree on the menu). We were absolutely stuffed at the end, but it was well worth it.
Chantel Kreviazuk and the ESO, November 1st, 2010
To be honest, neither Andrew or I are huge fans. We don't own any of Chantel's CDs, although we're familiar with her music--and she wrote my favourite Song Quest song, from the CBC challenge last year: "In Waskada Somewhere." However, when we saw the show advertised in the 2010-11 ESO program we thought it might be fun so we purchased tickets. We sat in our regular spots (dead centre, front row of the Upper Circle), and so had a good view of the stage.
I rather enjoyed the concert. I think Chantel has a strong singing voice, and is an excellent pianist. Attending the concert made me wish I had more time to practice (both the piano and singing), but I still lack the basic underlying skills to ever be better than the average individual who's completed their Grade 8 Royal Conservatory exam. She told the audience stories about the origins of her songs, which I think added a nice personal touch, and also made her seem quite human--like she might be fun to have a couple of beers with. I also thought the orchestra sounded splendid, as always. The orchestrations were lush and dramatic, and seemed as though each arrangement would be perfect for the final scene in an award-winning movie.
RED, November 5th, 2010
I'd noticed a couple of folks endorsed RED through their Facebook posts, but hadn't much notion of what the movie was about. A couple of weeks ago I even had a conversation about it with my skating coach. On a whim last Friday afternoon I thought I would check out the trailer and immediately thought: yes. Andrew and I hadn't been out to see a movie since How to Train Your Dragon at Easter, so this seemed like the perfect choice to break that streak. It was full of action (lots of guns), was completely silly, contained surprisingly few swear words, and a whole slew of big names (Bruce Willis, Helen Mirren, John Malkovich, and others). Andrew and I both enjoyed it immensely. And, it was partly filmed in Ontario--during a scene in the movie I leaned over to Andrew and said: I think that's the Toronto Reference Library! I couldn't find anything online to absolutely confirm this statement, but I'm pretty sure.
NaNoWriMo, all of November, 2010
Ah NaNoWriMo, how I love to hate you. I've previously blogged on my concerns regarding NaNoWriMo here, so I'm not going to re-hash my feelings now. What it does do is force me to write everyday, which I should be doing anyway. I've choosen to work on Nora's third and final story, which has been a lot of fun. I've realized that Nora's a lot like me in her neurotic, over worrying tendances, which is perhaps why she's so easy to write. Presently I'm at the halfway mark in my word count, and that's with a day on which I wrote absolutely nothing. I should get the 50,000 done with no problem, but I'm hoping to get more than that written, since I know 50,000 words is not enough for a completed novel.
Ciao,
Andrea
Friday, October 8, 2010
ESO Gala: Cirque de la Symphonie
This past Tuesday evening Andrew and I attended the ESO gala fundraiser event featuring Cirque de la Symphonie. We actually saw this show 2 years ago (blogged about here), but we enjoyed it so much that we thought we'd go again. Many of the performers were identical to the previous presentation, although there were a couple of new additions, plus if memory serves, the orchestra played different musical selections compared to last time. I'm not going to write a long, detailed post as: a) I probably wouldn't get it done since we're heading to Ontario shortly; and b) as I stated above, many of the performers were the same and you can check my previous post if you're interested.
Even though this was our second viewing of the show I think my favourite acts stayed pretty much the same. The Lady in White, was magnificent with her flexibility/balancing act, and the Strong Men were as mindboggling as ever. An interesting note: in 2009 the Strong Men performed to Ravel's Bolero; however, this year they used Bach's famous Toccata and Fugue in D minor--2 very different pieces. Strangely it worked. They kept their slow, methodical movements and sort of condensed the Toccata and Fugue down to 1/1 time, rather than the 4/4 time it is written in.
Although I say these were my favourites, the other acts were no slouches. The juggler/ring leader was wonderful, communicating a wide range of emotions with his expressive face--and he's also just a great juggler. Then there was the violinist who played while she hung from a trapeze...frequently upside down, no less. She was new, and Andrew and I were both busy during her performance figuring out how her violin was strapped to her, and what kept her bow in place while she was climbing and adjusting her positions (it was magnets). Also in the air was another female acrobat who performed 2 numbers. The first with a male acrobat on silks, then the second was just her on a rope--oh I wish I had that kind of upper body strength, never mind the flexibility! The last performance that really stuck out in my mind was the hulla-hoop artist. I think there was one last time too, but I don't think it was the same one (not having the earlier program anymore I can't check). Rather than spinning her hoop around her waist, she spent most of her routine twirling it around her foot as she did handstands, back arches, etc. Mindboggling, truly.
In the interest of keeping this post 'short,' and finishing it before I turn this blog into 'Andrea's world of baking' (just for a week) I'm not going to reflect upon the orchestra. Although we attended the gala to support the ESO, we choose to go to see the cirque performers. Plus we've got another 6, maybe 7 shows to attend this year, so I'll blather about their performances then.
Ciao,
Andrea
Even though this was our second viewing of the show I think my favourite acts stayed pretty much the same. The Lady in White, was magnificent with her flexibility/balancing act, and the Strong Men were as mindboggling as ever. An interesting note: in 2009 the Strong Men performed to Ravel's Bolero; however, this year they used Bach's famous Toccata and Fugue in D minor--2 very different pieces. Strangely it worked. They kept their slow, methodical movements and sort of condensed the Toccata and Fugue down to 1/1 time, rather than the 4/4 time it is written in.
Although I say these were my favourites, the other acts were no slouches. The juggler/ring leader was wonderful, communicating a wide range of emotions with his expressive face--and he's also just a great juggler. Then there was the violinist who played while she hung from a trapeze...frequently upside down, no less. She was new, and Andrew and I were both busy during her performance figuring out how her violin was strapped to her, and what kept her bow in place while she was climbing and adjusting her positions (it was magnets). Also in the air was another female acrobat who performed 2 numbers. The first with a male acrobat on silks, then the second was just her on a rope--oh I wish I had that kind of upper body strength, never mind the flexibility! The last performance that really stuck out in my mind was the hulla-hoop artist. I think there was one last time too, but I don't think it was the same one (not having the earlier program anymore I can't check). Rather than spinning her hoop around her waist, she spent most of her routine twirling it around her foot as she did handstands, back arches, etc. Mindboggling, truly.
In the interest of keeping this post 'short,' and finishing it before I turn this blog into 'Andrea's world of baking' (just for a week) I'm not going to reflect upon the orchestra. Although we attended the gala to support the ESO, we choose to go to see the cirque performers. Plus we've got another 6, maybe 7 shows to attend this year, so I'll blather about their performances then.
Ciao,
Andrea
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Season finale time, even for the orchestra
This past Friday night was our last Masters concert for the season, and the ESO definitely went out with a bang. The program was filled with five selections (including two in the second half, which is usually dedicated to presenting a single symphony). The orchestra was close to capacity for several of the pieces (i.e. lots of woodwinds, brass, harp(s) and percussion), and Marc-Andre Hamelin appeared as a featured solo pianist. To top it all off, the CBC was there recording the concert in order to air it on the radio later this year (the date was unknown as of Friday night).
So, what did the ESO play? They started off with a piece by their composer in residence, Allan Gilliand, titled Shadows and Light. This was quite a lovely selection with lots of colours and shades to the music, as the name suggests. It had several "shimmery" bits, where the strings played long, legato notes, while earnestly applying vibrato. If I remember correctly, I believe Mr. Gilliand stated that this was one of the first pieces he wrote after taking up his composer in residence post. This was followed by another Canadian piece, Fall Fair by Godfrey Ridout, which happened to have been broadcasted on the CBC that afternoon. Nonetheless, I was most happy to hear it again, as it's a very rousing sort of piece that puts me in mind of wide open spaces. Fall Fair was originally commissioned for performance at the 1961 United Nations Day in New York, NY. It is also one of the most well known and frequently played pieces in Canada.
After two, what I would definitely call "easy listening"*, selections came the Concerto for Piano, Trumpet and Strings in C minor, Op. 35 by Dmitri Shostakovich. This is not for the faint of heart, or at least the fair-weather classical music fan. You can't just sit back and let this Shostakovich piece roll over you like those that preceeded it. This music is more likely to put you on edge, get you sitting at the front of your seat and maybe even wishing it was over. I don't think there's been a particularly listener-challenging piece this season (at least not at the shows we attended), so I was rather glad to hear this. I can't say I necessarily liked this piece, as I felt through most of it that the piano and orchestra seemed to be playing entirely separate selections, but I like to hear different things, unlike those in my collection. I was also excessively impressed with Mr. Hamelin and the way his fingers flew across the keyboard. Even though I took piano for many years, I know I could never play something like this, and definitely not with the competence he did. At times it seemed like his fingers jumped many inches above the keys and miraculously hit the right notes (although I suppose I might not be able to tell otherwise). If I did that I would get a random assortment of different notes every time.
After the intermission the audience was treated to a second performance by Mr. Hamelin. This time it was Richard Strauss' (not to be confused by Johann Strauss, the Waltz King) Burleske in D minor. There was much to do for the tympanist in this piece, which I must imagine doesn't happen too often. He started the performance, and I believe he was one of the last to finish. To be perfectly honest, I don't remember much of this piece. I'm not sure why it hasn't stuck in my memory, it's not at though I didn't enjoy it at the time, but it hasn't. Perhaps I should look it up in the future to remind myself.
The final piece of the evening was La mer (The Sea) by Claude Debussy. I seem to have a thing for water-related music as one of my favourite orchestra works is the Moldau by Bedrich Smetana. Perhaps there's something about the rolling, wave-like quality of both of these pieces that inspires me--not that I spend much time on either lakes or rivers, but I've always enjoyed water and swimming. At any rate, Debussy wrote this piece in three sections, titled: 1) From dawn to midday on the sea, 2) Play of waves, and 3) Dialog of the wind and the sea. I felt that these descriptions aptly depicted what I heard (although Edward Blackeman, a flutist from Debussy's time disagrees). When the first movement began the strings started by playing tremolo high up in their range, suggesting to me the dawning of the sun, to the luxurious long-bowed notes later on that suggested rolling waves over the sea. Overall, I enjoyed this piece, a great deal and thought it a very satisfactory end to the 2009-2010 ESO season.
Now Andrew and I are without a Friday night ESO concert until the Gala performance scheduled in October. I guess I'll have to make due with CDs and the CBC for now, until then.
Ciao,
Andrea
*I don't mean to use "easy listening" as a derogatory term. I just mean to say that this type of music is more likely to be well liked by a wide range of people as it tends to be flowing and melodic.
So, what did the ESO play? They started off with a piece by their composer in residence, Allan Gilliand, titled Shadows and Light. This was quite a lovely selection with lots of colours and shades to the music, as the name suggests. It had several "shimmery" bits, where the strings played long, legato notes, while earnestly applying vibrato. If I remember correctly, I believe Mr. Gilliand stated that this was one of the first pieces he wrote after taking up his composer in residence post. This was followed by another Canadian piece, Fall Fair by Godfrey Ridout, which happened to have been broadcasted on the CBC that afternoon. Nonetheless, I was most happy to hear it again, as it's a very rousing sort of piece that puts me in mind of wide open spaces. Fall Fair was originally commissioned for performance at the 1961 United Nations Day in New York, NY. It is also one of the most well known and frequently played pieces in Canada.
After two, what I would definitely call "easy listening"*, selections came the Concerto for Piano, Trumpet and Strings in C minor, Op. 35 by Dmitri Shostakovich. This is not for the faint of heart, or at least the fair-weather classical music fan. You can't just sit back and let this Shostakovich piece roll over you like those that preceeded it. This music is more likely to put you on edge, get you sitting at the front of your seat and maybe even wishing it was over. I don't think there's been a particularly listener-challenging piece this season (at least not at the shows we attended), so I was rather glad to hear this. I can't say I necessarily liked this piece, as I felt through most of it that the piano and orchestra seemed to be playing entirely separate selections, but I like to hear different things, unlike those in my collection. I was also excessively impressed with Mr. Hamelin and the way his fingers flew across the keyboard. Even though I took piano for many years, I know I could never play something like this, and definitely not with the competence he did. At times it seemed like his fingers jumped many inches above the keys and miraculously hit the right notes (although I suppose I might not be able to tell otherwise). If I did that I would get a random assortment of different notes every time.
After the intermission the audience was treated to a second performance by Mr. Hamelin. This time it was Richard Strauss' (not to be confused by Johann Strauss, the Waltz King) Burleske in D minor. There was much to do for the tympanist in this piece, which I must imagine doesn't happen too often. He started the performance, and I believe he was one of the last to finish. To be perfectly honest, I don't remember much of this piece. I'm not sure why it hasn't stuck in my memory, it's not at though I didn't enjoy it at the time, but it hasn't. Perhaps I should look it up in the future to remind myself.
The final piece of the evening was La mer (The Sea) by Claude Debussy. I seem to have a thing for water-related music as one of my favourite orchestra works is the Moldau by Bedrich Smetana. Perhaps there's something about the rolling, wave-like quality of both of these pieces that inspires me--not that I spend much time on either lakes or rivers, but I've always enjoyed water and swimming. At any rate, Debussy wrote this piece in three sections, titled: 1) From dawn to midday on the sea, 2) Play of waves, and 3) Dialog of the wind and the sea. I felt that these descriptions aptly depicted what I heard (although Edward Blackeman, a flutist from Debussy's time disagrees). When the first movement began the strings started by playing tremolo high up in their range, suggesting to me the dawning of the sun, to the luxurious long-bowed notes later on that suggested rolling waves over the sea. Overall, I enjoyed this piece, a great deal and thought it a very satisfactory end to the 2009-2010 ESO season.
Now Andrew and I are without a Friday night ESO concert until the Gala performance scheduled in October. I guess I'll have to make due with CDs and the CBC for now, until then.
Ciao,
Andrea
*I don't mean to use "easy listening" as a derogatory term. I just mean to say that this type of music is more likely to be well liked by a wide range of people as it tends to be flowing and melodic.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
A Late Night with the ESO
*Now that I'm finally finished all of my blogging related to my trip I can return to the regular mundane happenings of my life...*
Friday night Andrew and I went to the ESO. Not our regular Master's series, but a show which was a part of their "Late Night" series, which indeed took place late at night (at least for old ladies like me). The show began at 9:30 p.m. The evening's performance was titled Late Night in Paris and featured the music of George Bizet and Francis Poulenc (both French composers, of course). As these tickets were less expensive than our regular series seats we opted to sit on the main floor of the Winspear, putting us only a few rows back from the stage. It appears that these late night concerts are a less formal affair than the regular performances as the men in the orchestra only wore black shirts and jackets (rather than their regularly required tails) and perhaps more importantly, we were entertained by the comedy routine of ESO Music Director Bill Eddins, and conductor-in-residence Lucas Waldin.
Okay, so they weren't actually putting on a comedy act...but they certainly had a good time playing off each other. Bill treated poor Lucas with "faux" disdain as the young, still learning conductor, and Lucas took it in with good humour and some witty banter of his own. This included Bill ordering Lucas to fetch him a glass of champagne (with a well timed response about requiring the appropriate number of Euros to pay for it--they were supposed to be in Paris after all). Then, when the requested glass of champagne was produced, it was not handed over, on the demand the Bill must play for it first. All-in-all, a highly entertaining evening.
A benefit of our near front-row seating was that it afforded us a good view of the musicians facial expressions as they performed. I noticed some players were very animated, rocking and swaying with the music, while others were practically motionless and entirely focused on their music. Bill, being an already highly animated character, was especially interesting to watch. He played the piano solo for the first Pulenc piece, Aubade, while Lucas conducted (often Bill conducts from the keyboard). His posture at the piano ranged from sitting very upright, and calm during more tranquil sections, to hunched over the keyboard (making him appear even smaller than he really is--and he's not a tall man) during more intense, quick sections. I also noticed that at times of rest he occasionally conducted along with Lucas, out of habit I suppose, but kept his motions small as to not interfere.
The music was, of course, delightful. As noted above, Bizet and Pulenc were on the program list. The selections by Bizet were from his Sympony in C major. The first movement opened the show, while the fourth movement closed it (they did not play the other two). I recall both of the movements as light and bouncy, and highly enjoyable. The first of the Pulenc pieces was the above mentioned Aubade, which as Bill explained, is a mixture of a ballet and concerto rolled into one. Apparently the woman who commissioned it requested it be written for only 18 instruments, and so an intriguing mixture of woodwinds, trombone (I think), stings (excluding violin), tympani and piano made up this ensemble. Bill introduced this piece, playing the various themes on the piano as he explained this story of Diana and her friends. I liked this piece the most, probably for it's interesting themes and for the exuberance with which the orchestra played. The second Pulenc, excerpts from his Suite Francise (a series of courtly dances) although playful did not captivate my interest quite as much.
Our next ESO concert is in a little less than 2 weeks, then comes the summer hiatus before things start up again in the fall.
Ciao,
Andrea
Friday night Andrew and I went to the ESO. Not our regular Master's series, but a show which was a part of their "Late Night" series, which indeed took place late at night (at least for old ladies like me). The show began at 9:30 p.m. The evening's performance was titled Late Night in Paris and featured the music of George Bizet and Francis Poulenc (both French composers, of course). As these tickets were less expensive than our regular series seats we opted to sit on the main floor of the Winspear, putting us only a few rows back from the stage. It appears that these late night concerts are a less formal affair than the regular performances as the men in the orchestra only wore black shirts and jackets (rather than their regularly required tails) and perhaps more importantly, we were entertained by the comedy routine of ESO Music Director Bill Eddins, and conductor-in-residence Lucas Waldin.
Okay, so they weren't actually putting on a comedy act...but they certainly had a good time playing off each other. Bill treated poor Lucas with "faux" disdain as the young, still learning conductor, and Lucas took it in with good humour and some witty banter of his own. This included Bill ordering Lucas to fetch him a glass of champagne (with a well timed response about requiring the appropriate number of Euros to pay for it--they were supposed to be in Paris after all). Then, when the requested glass of champagne was produced, it was not handed over, on the demand the Bill must play for it first. All-in-all, a highly entertaining evening.
A benefit of our near front-row seating was that it afforded us a good view of the musicians facial expressions as they performed. I noticed some players were very animated, rocking and swaying with the music, while others were practically motionless and entirely focused on their music. Bill, being an already highly animated character, was especially interesting to watch. He played the piano solo for the first Pulenc piece, Aubade, while Lucas conducted (often Bill conducts from the keyboard). His posture at the piano ranged from sitting very upright, and calm during more tranquil sections, to hunched over the keyboard (making him appear even smaller than he really is--and he's not a tall man) during more intense, quick sections. I also noticed that at times of rest he occasionally conducted along with Lucas, out of habit I suppose, but kept his motions small as to not interfere.
The music was, of course, delightful. As noted above, Bizet and Pulenc were on the program list. The selections by Bizet were from his Sympony in C major. The first movement opened the show, while the fourth movement closed it (they did not play the other two). I recall both of the movements as light and bouncy, and highly enjoyable. The first of the Pulenc pieces was the above mentioned Aubade, which as Bill explained, is a mixture of a ballet and concerto rolled into one. Apparently the woman who commissioned it requested it be written for only 18 instruments, and so an intriguing mixture of woodwinds, trombone (I think), stings (excluding violin), tympani and piano made up this ensemble. Bill introduced this piece, playing the various themes on the piano as he explained this story of Diana and her friends. I liked this piece the most, probably for it's interesting themes and for the exuberance with which the orchestra played. The second Pulenc, excerpts from his Suite Francise (a series of courtly dances) although playful did not captivate my interest quite as much.
Our next ESO concert is in a little less than 2 weeks, then comes the summer hiatus before things start up again in the fall.
Ciao,
Andrea
Monday, March 29, 2010
The most fun ballet title to say ever: Petroushka!
This past Friday brought with it another Master's Series concert with the ESO, and therefore another delightful night of music. Otherwise, it was a pretty ordinary night. We ate dinner at home and walked down the Winspear, with just enough time to hand in our subscription renewal for next year before taking our seats. Since I'll be returning to full time work in May, we ordered several other sets of tickets as well, which I mentioned in my last ESO concert post. When it comes time to leave Edmonton, I hope we will find ourselves in a city with another good symphony orchestra as I very much enjoy our regular attendance of live classical music. I think it good chance we'll be able to meet this condition where ever we go next, as KW, Toronto, Ottawa and Montreal are on the top of the list.
Friday's featured musician was a classical guitarist by the name of Manuel Barrueco, who according to the program is "recognized internationally as one of the must important guitarists of our time." Sadly, I can't say I'd heard of this fellow before, although there's a good chance I've probably heard him in a recording on the CBC. There's no denying that Mr. Barrueco is a gifted musician...but let me get to that in a moment.
The first selection of the evening was Ancient Airs and Dances, Suite No. 2 by Respighi. Almost the full orchestra participated the Ancient Airs and Dances, including 4 hands at the harpsichord, with the occasional spell off of one of the musicians to the celesta (featured prominently in the last performance). This was quite an interesting piece in that, although premiered in 1924, the first movement was written in a baroque-style with lots of short, pizzicato notes; however, by the time the fourth came around, the rhythms were syncopated and the playing more legato. Interestingly, Andrew preferred the first movement, while I enjoyed the fourth the best. Overall, it was a delightful selection and my knee was bouncing throughout to the light, dancing music.
Once the Respighi was complete, most of the orchestra left the stage, leaving a small selection of strings and the harpsichord. Vivaldi's Guitar Concerto in D Major, RV 93, originally began as a piece of chamber music, hence why the small ensemble. Mr. Barrueco, joined the ESO for this selection, and as I noted above, was simply wonderful. The second movement is perhaps the best known of this Concerto, and I certainly recognized it within a few bars. The Concerto was a lovely piece and over far too quickly (it's only 11 minutes in length). After much applause from the audience, a scene change was made to add more orchestra members for the final piece of the first half, Folias by Roberto Sierra, a present day composer. Actually, Folias, was written for Mr. Barrueco and was only premiered in 2002. To be honest, I liked the Latin flavour of the guitar part, but I didn't much care for the underlying orchestration. I felt at times like the composer wasn't too sure what kind of sound he was trying to create with the orchestra and I thought it detracted from the music. Regardless I still appreciated and enjoyed the playing of Mr. Barrueco.
The second half of concert was taken up by a performance of Petroushka by Stravinsky. Again, a huge orchestra was required for this work, including 2 tubas, several trombones, a bass bassoon (at least that it was I'm assuming it was), a piccolo and a small army of percussionists. I was rather excited to see Petroushka on the program as I have a copy of it on CD (I think it may have actually been one of my first classical music CDs). This ballet is full of sound bursting from the orchestra. It's bright and exciting, and Bill (as Andrew and I like to refer to conductor William Eddins--as if we knew him) was all over the conductor's stand coaxing the orchestra through the dance. At the end he leaned back against the rail of the stand as if exhausted. We learned later that this was his first time conducting Petroushka. I would love to see the ballet if the chance arose. I saw Firebirds several years ago performed by the National Ballet and recall the costuming was full of colour. I imagine that Petroushka would be much the same.
All in all, another wonderful night at the ESO. Our next outing isn't until May, after our trip.
Ciao,
Andrea
Friday's featured musician was a classical guitarist by the name of Manuel Barrueco, who according to the program is "recognized internationally as one of the must important guitarists of our time." Sadly, I can't say I'd heard of this fellow before, although there's a good chance I've probably heard him in a recording on the CBC. There's no denying that Mr. Barrueco is a gifted musician...but let me get to that in a moment.
The first selection of the evening was Ancient Airs and Dances, Suite No. 2 by Respighi. Almost the full orchestra participated the Ancient Airs and Dances, including 4 hands at the harpsichord, with the occasional spell off of one of the musicians to the celesta (featured prominently in the last performance). This was quite an interesting piece in that, although premiered in 1924, the first movement was written in a baroque-style with lots of short, pizzicato notes; however, by the time the fourth came around, the rhythms were syncopated and the playing more legato. Interestingly, Andrew preferred the first movement, while I enjoyed the fourth the best. Overall, it was a delightful selection and my knee was bouncing throughout to the light, dancing music.
Once the Respighi was complete, most of the orchestra left the stage, leaving a small selection of strings and the harpsichord. Vivaldi's Guitar Concerto in D Major, RV 93, originally began as a piece of chamber music, hence why the small ensemble. Mr. Barrueco, joined the ESO for this selection, and as I noted above, was simply wonderful. The second movement is perhaps the best known of this Concerto, and I certainly recognized it within a few bars. The Concerto was a lovely piece and over far too quickly (it's only 11 minutes in length). After much applause from the audience, a scene change was made to add more orchestra members for the final piece of the first half, Folias by Roberto Sierra, a present day composer. Actually, Folias, was written for Mr. Barrueco and was only premiered in 2002. To be honest, I liked the Latin flavour of the guitar part, but I didn't much care for the underlying orchestration. I felt at times like the composer wasn't too sure what kind of sound he was trying to create with the orchestra and I thought it detracted from the music. Regardless I still appreciated and enjoyed the playing of Mr. Barrueco.
The second half of concert was taken up by a performance of Petroushka by Stravinsky. Again, a huge orchestra was required for this work, including 2 tubas, several trombones, a bass bassoon (at least that it was I'm assuming it was), a piccolo and a small army of percussionists. I was rather excited to see Petroushka on the program as I have a copy of it on CD (I think it may have actually been one of my first classical music CDs). This ballet is full of sound bursting from the orchestra. It's bright and exciting, and Bill (as Andrew and I like to refer to conductor William Eddins--as if we knew him) was all over the conductor's stand coaxing the orchestra through the dance. At the end he leaned back against the rail of the stand as if exhausted. We learned later that this was his first time conducting Petroushka. I would love to see the ballet if the chance arose. I saw Firebirds several years ago performed by the National Ballet and recall the costuming was full of colour. I imagine that Petroushka would be much the same.
All in all, another wonderful night at the ESO. Our next outing isn't until May, after our trip.
Ciao,
Andrea
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Mozart and the celesta (i.e. ice cream truck music)
This blog post is a week late, but here it is anyway. I hope I haven't forgotten anything too important.
Last Friday (March 5th) Andrew and I attended our regular Masters series concert at the ESO. At first we weren't entirely sure if we were going to go or not. I had (another) bad fall that morning at skating and was suffering from a sore back, knee, and hip. I'd been taking muscle relaxants (which I've never done before) during the afternoon, and alternately heating and cooling my back. I was worried about: a) how well I would sit through the concert; and b) if I would be able to stay awake during the concert (the muscle relaxants I was taking caused drowsiness). We were unable to find anyone to take the tickets on short noticed, and not wanting to let them go to waste, we decided to go.
Since Edmonton has been experiencing moderate, spring-like temperatures as of late we decided to walk to the Winspear (about a 25 to 30 minute trip) and along the way we met one of the members of the ESO. Dressed in black and a instrument case strapped to her back we guessed we were probably heading in the same direction. Andrew, being much more friendly than I, decided to ask if she was indeed a part of the orchestra, and she confirmed she was a part of the viola section (second viola as we discovered later once we had taken our seats). We had a nice chat as the three of us walked downtown, until Andrew and I departed to take care of a couple of quick errands at the City Centre Mall.
The evening's programme was filled with Mozart. Two of his better known, with two of his lesser known pieces. To confess, I am more of a Beethoven, than a Mozart fan, but I enjoyed the concert all the same. The first piece performed, the Fantasy in F Major, had a most fascinating history. What we heard on Friday was in fact a orchestration of Mozart's original composition, which was written to be played on a mechanized organ (supposedly much like a player piano) owned by an eccentric German collector. Although Mozart reportedly felt the piece sounded tinny, it has since been recognized that the Fantasy contains once of his best fugues. The first half of the evening was rounded out with Symphony No. 40. At first I had mistaken this to be his Jupiter Symphony, but have since determined that that was actually Symphony 41. Regardless, No. 40 is still an easily recognizable piece for classical music lovers, and one of the last Mozart wrote.
Having learned our lesson at our last ESO concert, Andrew and I took the opportunity the intermission afforded us to stand, and stretch our legs and back. Thankfully, I wasn't in much pain and I didn't have any difficulty try to stay awake as I had initially feared I would. The second half began with Mozart's Adagio and Rondo, which featured the celesta. The celesta is an intriguing key-board instrument, which produces a ring/chime sort of sound. Mr. Eddins (ESO conductor) noted it unfortunately sounded a great deal like an ice cream truck and confessed later during the after thoughts that he hoped he would never conduct from the celesta again, as he had that night. Interestingly, the Adagio and Rondo was actually written for the glass harmonica, an instrument something akin to playing water glasses. The final piece of the evening was the Piano Concerto No. 20 in D minor. The piece is only the 2nd of 30 Mozart piano concertos written in a minor key.
Once again, we had a lovely evening at the symphony. As I've expressed before, I always find the ESO performances excellent, and the Winspear Centre a wonderful venue. We received our order form for next year's concerts earlier this week and I can't wait to renuew our tickets. There are a number of additional performances on the list that we hope to attend including the ESO's Gala: Cirque de la Symponie (yes we saw this show a year ago, but Andrew and I both love Cirque), a Bugs Bunny and the orchestra show, Chantel Kreviazuk and the ESO, and if possible a show featuring Tom Allen (a CBC radio host) as narrator. I really do love classical music, and since I will be back to full-time work, as of May, I'm looking forward to supporting my local symphony orchestra.
Ciao,
Andrea
Last Friday (March 5th) Andrew and I attended our regular Masters series concert at the ESO. At first we weren't entirely sure if we were going to go or not. I had (another) bad fall that morning at skating and was suffering from a sore back, knee, and hip. I'd been taking muscle relaxants (which I've never done before) during the afternoon, and alternately heating and cooling my back. I was worried about: a) how well I would sit through the concert; and b) if I would be able to stay awake during the concert (the muscle relaxants I was taking caused drowsiness). We were unable to find anyone to take the tickets on short noticed, and not wanting to let them go to waste, we decided to go.
Since Edmonton has been experiencing moderate, spring-like temperatures as of late we decided to walk to the Winspear (about a 25 to 30 minute trip) and along the way we met one of the members of the ESO. Dressed in black and a instrument case strapped to her back we guessed we were probably heading in the same direction. Andrew, being much more friendly than I, decided to ask if she was indeed a part of the orchestra, and she confirmed she was a part of the viola section (second viola as we discovered later once we had taken our seats). We had a nice chat as the three of us walked downtown, until Andrew and I departed to take care of a couple of quick errands at the City Centre Mall.
The evening's programme was filled with Mozart. Two of his better known, with two of his lesser known pieces. To confess, I am more of a Beethoven, than a Mozart fan, but I enjoyed the concert all the same. The first piece performed, the Fantasy in F Major, had a most fascinating history. What we heard on Friday was in fact a orchestration of Mozart's original composition, which was written to be played on a mechanized organ (supposedly much like a player piano) owned by an eccentric German collector. Although Mozart reportedly felt the piece sounded tinny, it has since been recognized that the Fantasy contains once of his best fugues. The first half of the evening was rounded out with Symphony No. 40. At first I had mistaken this to be his Jupiter Symphony, but have since determined that that was actually Symphony 41. Regardless, No. 40 is still an easily recognizable piece for classical music lovers, and one of the last Mozart wrote.
Having learned our lesson at our last ESO concert, Andrew and I took the opportunity the intermission afforded us to stand, and stretch our legs and back. Thankfully, I wasn't in much pain and I didn't have any difficulty try to stay awake as I had initially feared I would. The second half began with Mozart's Adagio and Rondo, which featured the celesta. The celesta is an intriguing key-board instrument, which produces a ring/chime sort of sound. Mr. Eddins (ESO conductor) noted it unfortunately sounded a great deal like an ice cream truck and confessed later during the after thoughts that he hoped he would never conduct from the celesta again, as he had that night. Interestingly, the Adagio and Rondo was actually written for the glass harmonica, an instrument something akin to playing water glasses. The final piece of the evening was the Piano Concerto No. 20 in D minor. The piece is only the 2nd of 30 Mozart piano concertos written in a minor key.
Once again, we had a lovely evening at the symphony. As I've expressed before, I always find the ESO performances excellent, and the Winspear Centre a wonderful venue. We received our order form for next year's concerts earlier this week and I can't wait to renuew our tickets. There are a number of additional performances on the list that we hope to attend including the ESO's Gala: Cirque de la Symponie (yes we saw this show a year ago, but Andrew and I both love Cirque), a Bugs Bunny and the orchestra show, Chantel Kreviazuk and the ESO, and if possible a show featuring Tom Allen (a CBC radio host) as narrator. I really do love classical music, and since I will be back to full-time work, as of May, I'm looking forward to supporting my local symphony orchestra.
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
Monday, November 30, 2009
Beethoven and Wagner in one evening
I'm playing catch up a bit here. I have no good reason to have not blogged earlier, except that I didn't get around to it. On Friday night, Andrew and I went to our regular Friday Night Master's concert at the Edmonton Symphony Orchestra. It's the first one in a while. For some reason there was no concert for the Master's series in October, so it felt like we hadn't been to the Winspear in eons. We made a nice evening of it, stopping at the Blue Plate Diner for dinner before heading to the show (it's conveniently located on route). I finally tried the veggie burger (good, but definitely not trying to pretend to be meat, which some veggie burgers do) and Andrew had the Indian platter (which was actually an appetizer, but offered ample food for a meal).
We arrived at the Winspear with plenty of time to spare and took our seats early, as we're dead centre and wanted to avoid having to crawl over too many people. We had lots of time to read over the program, which contained a number of intriguing facts about the guest conductor and preformer for the evening, as well as the pieces on the program. For example, the guest conductor, Mr. Eri Klas was once a junior lightweight boxing champion in his native Estonia. You don't find too many conductors who have that kind of experience on their resume. Musically, Mr. Klas also holds a number of awards, posts with orchestras and operas throughout Europe, and an honourary doctorate. It's not surprising that the orchestra sounded good Friday night. Katherine Chi was the guest pianist. It floors me the age that some professional musicians held their first recitals. Ms. Chi? She was nine. At nine I was maybe playing The Happy Farmer. At present she's working on her doctorate at the New England Conservatory of Music.
So, the music. During the first half of the concert the ESO presented Beethoven's Concerto No. 5 in E-flat Major, Op. 73, also known as the Emperor's Concerto. I think it's a fairly well known piece and if I could hum a few bars you might recognize it. It's the third movement that's best known, I think. I've definitely heard it on the CBC before. Mr. Chi was excellent, as to be expected. It also astounds me that soloists can lock such extensive pieces of work into their memory like that. Almost forty minutes of playing all by memory. I can't even manage a simple 3 to 4 minute song. The audience clapped for sometime after the piece concluded (although no standing ovation).
The second half of the show brought an orchestrated version of Wagner's Die Meistersigner von Nurnberg. Apparently this was Wagner's only opera that he did not base on myth or fairy tale. The orchestra grew significantly in size for this piece (Beethoven included only a small section of woodwinds, maybe a trumpet, I don't recall). For Wagner, it was close to full complement including 3 trumpets, several trombones, 2 tubas (although played by the same person), as well as a harp and a large percussion section. I liked the orchestration of Meistersinger von Nurnberg. I found it very flowing and relaxing at times, then exciting and lively at others. Again, the audience seemed appreciative of the orchestra and Mr. Klas. This was the first time the ESO preformed the arrangement.
Our next trip to the ESO won't be until January, but I expect it will be quite the show. Beethoven again, with his ninth symphony, Ode to Joy.
Ciao,
Andrea
We arrived at the Winspear with plenty of time to spare and took our seats early, as we're dead centre and wanted to avoid having to crawl over too many people. We had lots of time to read over the program, which contained a number of intriguing facts about the guest conductor and preformer for the evening, as well as the pieces on the program. For example, the guest conductor, Mr. Eri Klas was once a junior lightweight boxing champion in his native Estonia. You don't find too many conductors who have that kind of experience on their resume. Musically, Mr. Klas also holds a number of awards, posts with orchestras and operas throughout Europe, and an honourary doctorate. It's not surprising that the orchestra sounded good Friday night. Katherine Chi was the guest pianist. It floors me the age that some professional musicians held their first recitals. Ms. Chi? She was nine. At nine I was maybe playing The Happy Farmer. At present she's working on her doctorate at the New England Conservatory of Music.
So, the music. During the first half of the concert the ESO presented Beethoven's Concerto No. 5 in E-flat Major, Op. 73, also known as the Emperor's Concerto. I think it's a fairly well known piece and if I could hum a few bars you might recognize it. It's the third movement that's best known, I think. I've definitely heard it on the CBC before. Mr. Chi was excellent, as to be expected. It also astounds me that soloists can lock such extensive pieces of work into their memory like that. Almost forty minutes of playing all by memory. I can't even manage a simple 3 to 4 minute song. The audience clapped for sometime after the piece concluded (although no standing ovation).
The second half of the show brought an orchestrated version of Wagner's Die Meistersigner von Nurnberg. Apparently this was Wagner's only opera that he did not base on myth or fairy tale. The orchestra grew significantly in size for this piece (Beethoven included only a small section of woodwinds, maybe a trumpet, I don't recall). For Wagner, it was close to full complement including 3 trumpets, several trombones, 2 tubas (although played by the same person), as well as a harp and a large percussion section. I liked the orchestration of Meistersinger von Nurnberg. I found it very flowing and relaxing at times, then exciting and lively at others. Again, the audience seemed appreciative of the orchestra and Mr. Klas. This was the first time the ESO preformed the arrangement.
Our next trip to the ESO won't be until January, but I expect it will be quite the show. Beethoven again, with his ninth symphony, Ode to Joy.
Ciao,
Andrea
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Movie tunes at the ESO
Friday night was our first ESO concert of the season. This is our third year subscribing to the Masters Series. Thanks to my hyper time-awareness I was probably the first one to have their request in for tickets three years ago, so our seats are dead-centre of the first row on the Upper Circle. I like this spot because I enjoy watching the musicians at work (especially when the percussionists are busy) and the Upper Circle provides an excellent vantage point of the entire stage.
As always, I was pleased by the skill of the musicians in the ESO. On the program was music from Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon, The Red Violin, and Gershwin's Second Rhapsody, which was featured in a 1931 movie called Delicious (and is also apparently unavailable except for a few short clips on YouTube). The evening started with Oh Canada (as it was the first concert of the season) and a short organ and brass fanfare by Howard Shore. I phased out during this piece, absorbed with thoughts about The Cause and can't say much about it, except it ended in one massive wall of sound. There's something about the organ and the wafting, all encompassing sound it makes that can make a person feel like they're being pressed into their seat by the force of it.
The dynamics couldn't have changed more drastically than going from a huge pipe organ to a Chinese erhu, the featured instrument in the music from Crouching Tiger by Tan Dun. The erhu has such an interesting quality, ranging at times from the rich tones of a cello (which the music was original scored for) to unusual, bird-like chirping. The variety of musical sounds in Tan Dun's music is astonishing and I found myself watching over the orchestra as I searched for what instruments were involved in what I was hearing. Of the more unusual, some of the percussionists at one point ran rows along the edge of a suspended symbol creating a very ethereal sound. During another section, the string bass players heartily strummed their instruments then clapped their hand over the fingerboard in unison. During the second movement there was an impressive drum solo involving four percussionists, of which the audience seemed very appreciative. The erhu, played by George Gao was by far the star of the show and returned at the beginning of the second act to play a piece titled Galloping Horses. There was no mystery around how the piece got it's name. It was fast and furious and somewhat reminiscent of the William Tell Overture.
A few minutes before the end of the intermission two men took up the empty seats beside us. I have to admit that at first I was worried. They were not the typical symphony goers. They were both heavily tattooed (both wore dress shirts, but had the sleeves rolled up) and had, well, missed the entire first half. I was worried that they would talk during the performance, but aside from a few whispers they seemed to be genuinely appreciative of the music. I don't know if we will see them at future shows, but they would certainly be breaking a stereotype if they are new subscribers.
The second half of the concert was as equally enjoyable as the first, although I have far less to say about it. The music from The Red Violin is beautiful and haunting, although as pointed out during the after thoughts talk, it has been reworked and is relatively independent of the actual movie soundtrack. Martin Riseley, who normally takes the concert master position in the ESO, played the solo for this piece. He is taking the year off from the symphony to work on a project in New Zealand (where he is originally from) and so we are unlikely to see him for the rest of the season. I closed my eyes a couple of times during this piece, so I could just hear it. The theme is particularly enchanting and I felt I could enjoy it more fully by not watching the musicians.
The final piece was Gershwin's Second Rhapsody for Piano and Orchestra. Close to the full complement of players were out on the stage for this final number, plus a solo pianist, Sara Davis Beuchner. The Second Rhapsody, as we were told, is rarely played and this was the first performance for the ESO. I thought there were clear hints of both Rhapsody in Blue and American in Paris in this piece. I enjoyed it over all and Davis Beuchner's playing was excellent. We were told during the after thoughts that Gerswhin often tinkered with his pieces after they were published. At times, Bill Eddins (conductor and music director) would look over at the piano and wonder what Davis Beuchner was playing, as it wasn't in his score, but wasn't too concerned since he figured Gerswhin must have written it at some point.
Now we've got more than a month to wait for the next concert, which isn't until the end of November, with Beethoven on the program.
Ciao,
Andrea
As always, I was pleased by the skill of the musicians in the ESO. On the program was music from Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon, The Red Violin, and Gershwin's Second Rhapsody, which was featured in a 1931 movie called Delicious (and is also apparently unavailable except for a few short clips on YouTube). The evening started with Oh Canada (as it was the first concert of the season) and a short organ and brass fanfare by Howard Shore. I phased out during this piece, absorbed with thoughts about The Cause and can't say much about it, except it ended in one massive wall of sound. There's something about the organ and the wafting, all encompassing sound it makes that can make a person feel like they're being pressed into their seat by the force of it.
The dynamics couldn't have changed more drastically than going from a huge pipe organ to a Chinese erhu, the featured instrument in the music from Crouching Tiger by Tan Dun. The erhu has such an interesting quality, ranging at times from the rich tones of a cello (which the music was original scored for) to unusual, bird-like chirping. The variety of musical sounds in Tan Dun's music is astonishing and I found myself watching over the orchestra as I searched for what instruments were involved in what I was hearing. Of the more unusual, some of the percussionists at one point ran rows along the edge of a suspended symbol creating a very ethereal sound. During another section, the string bass players heartily strummed their instruments then clapped their hand over the fingerboard in unison. During the second movement there was an impressive drum solo involving four percussionists, of which the audience seemed very appreciative. The erhu, played by George Gao was by far the star of the show and returned at the beginning of the second act to play a piece titled Galloping Horses. There was no mystery around how the piece got it's name. It was fast and furious and somewhat reminiscent of the William Tell Overture.
A few minutes before the end of the intermission two men took up the empty seats beside us. I have to admit that at first I was worried. They were not the typical symphony goers. They were both heavily tattooed (both wore dress shirts, but had the sleeves rolled up) and had, well, missed the entire first half. I was worried that they would talk during the performance, but aside from a few whispers they seemed to be genuinely appreciative of the music. I don't know if we will see them at future shows, but they would certainly be breaking a stereotype if they are new subscribers.
The second half of the concert was as equally enjoyable as the first, although I have far less to say about it. The music from The Red Violin is beautiful and haunting, although as pointed out during the after thoughts talk, it has been reworked and is relatively independent of the actual movie soundtrack. Martin Riseley, who normally takes the concert master position in the ESO, played the solo for this piece. He is taking the year off from the symphony to work on a project in New Zealand (where he is originally from) and so we are unlikely to see him for the rest of the season. I closed my eyes a couple of times during this piece, so I could just hear it. The theme is particularly enchanting and I felt I could enjoy it more fully by not watching the musicians.
The final piece was Gershwin's Second Rhapsody for Piano and Orchestra. Close to the full complement of players were out on the stage for this final number, plus a solo pianist, Sara Davis Beuchner. The Second Rhapsody, as we were told, is rarely played and this was the first performance for the ESO. I thought there were clear hints of both Rhapsody in Blue and American in Paris in this piece. I enjoyed it over all and Davis Beuchner's playing was excellent. We were told during the after thoughts that Gerswhin often tinkered with his pieces after they were published. At times, Bill Eddins (conductor and music director) would look over at the piano and wonder what Davis Beuchner was playing, as it wasn't in his score, but wasn't too concerned since he figured Gerswhin must have written it at some point.
Now we've got more than a month to wait for the next concert, which isn't until the end of November, with Beethoven on the program.
Ciao,
Andrea
Monday, June 15, 2009
No good titles come to mind...
That's actually how I'm feeling about my poor Nora MS. I can't just call it Nora. True, that is my protagonist's name, and the story is told entirely from her perspective, but what am I suppose to call the second story? Nora 2, More Nora, The continuing life of Nora? I think not. I'll have to keep pondering this conundrum.
Let me recount my weekend, which although not terribly exciting, was the purpose of this post.
Friday:
I got up at the un-earthly time of 5:30 a.m. to take Mandy to the Edmonton International Airport. The only good thing about driving that early in the morning is the minimal traffic. When I returned home, around 7:15 a.m., I finished off the RA hours I chose to neglect on Thursday, which took an hour. I practiced my French, took a shower and attempted to grocery shop. I say, attempted to grocery shop because when I reached the till I discovered I'd forgotten my wallet. Ugh. I returned home sans-groceries and popped on good ole' Pride and Prejudice (BBC 1995) while I sat for a few minute to rest my legs then got to work on the kitchen. I wish I was a more proficient housekeeper, but I'm not. I try to clean the bathroom and vacuum the floors at least once a week. Sometimes that doesn't work out and things get a little gross for my taste. On Friday I washed down all the counters, the cupboard doors, the oven and the floor, plus rearranged some of our storage paces. This took approximately 2 hours. Then I tidied and cleaned the computer desk, and the over-filled and unorganized drawers from the desk in the bedroom. Whew.
Friday night, was more interesting. Andrew and I attended the ESO's final concert for the 2008-2009 season. As mentioned previously, the concert featured the solo violinist James Ehnes and his 1715 Stradivarius violin (well not actually his, it's borrowed from the Fulton Collection). His performance (perhaps not surprising since he has the honour of playing a Strad) was stellar. You might be wondering, could we tell the difference between the sound of the Strad and other violins? Well, no, not really. Probably if we heard a short piece played on the Strad, followed by the same piece played on a second, non-Strad violin the difference would be obvious, but not so much when compared to the entire orchestra. However, the crazy high notes (played well over the finger board) were crystal-clear and gorgeous sounding--not screechy or unpleasant. On the program was: Mendelssohn (A Midsummer Night’s Dream: Overture, Op.21), Chausson (Poème in E-flat Major for Violin, Op.25), Wieniawski (Fantasie on Themes from Gounod’s “Faust”) and one of my favourites, Prokofiev (selections from Romeo and Juliet).
Saturday:
Andrew and I dragged out butts out of bed shortly after 7:30 to go for our Saturday morning long run. We felt since we've run our half marathon and have no current plans to run another this summer we would cut down the distance from about 21 km to about 17 km (our run length is based on time and our run distance is based on the estimation of our km/hr). We returned home shortly before 10:00, scrubbed the grim off our skins (I sweat like the proverbial pig) then headed down to the City Centre mall. Normally we go to the farmers market after our run, but since we're not going to be around much this weekend we skipped it (except for lunch--smokies, on the way home). Andrew needed to purchase some conference appropriate clothing. We wound up at Le Chateau, which used to be my favourite store until I discovered the divine (and expensive) beauty of BCBG. He managed to pick up two nice button down shirts (one white, one green), a tie, a pull over sweater and a blazer.
In the evening Andrew and I finally caught the new Star Trek movie. I balled during the first 10 minutes. It was heart wrenching. Really, you'd have to have a heart of stone not to be moved at least a little. If you've seen the movie, you know what I mean. Otherwise, it was pretty fantastic. Many of the new cast members bare a passing resemblance to the classic actors and it was fun to see how each character popped up and joined the crew of the Enterprise. The plot was interesting too, delving into the motivations behind Spock and Kirk. And it involved time travel. Oh, and Leonard Nemoy reprised his role as Spock (old Spock that is, not young Spock).
Sunday:
Another day that started at 5:30 a.m. This time to take Andrew to the airport so he could head off to New York. Most of the rest of the day was pretty unremarkable (as one might guess from my previous post). I'm looking forward to joining Andrew in New York on Wednesday. It will be really nice to get away for a bit.
Hmmm...I think that's all.
Ciao,
Andrea
Let me recount my weekend, which although not terribly exciting, was the purpose of this post.
Friday:
I got up at the un-earthly time of 5:30 a.m. to take Mandy to the Edmonton International Airport. The only good thing about driving that early in the morning is the minimal traffic. When I returned home, around 7:15 a.m., I finished off the RA hours I chose to neglect on Thursday, which took an hour. I practiced my French, took a shower and attempted to grocery shop. I say, attempted to grocery shop because when I reached the till I discovered I'd forgotten my wallet. Ugh. I returned home sans-groceries and popped on good ole' Pride and Prejudice (BBC 1995) while I sat for a few minute to rest my legs then got to work on the kitchen. I wish I was a more proficient housekeeper, but I'm not. I try to clean the bathroom and vacuum the floors at least once a week. Sometimes that doesn't work out and things get a little gross for my taste. On Friday I washed down all the counters, the cupboard doors, the oven and the floor, plus rearranged some of our storage paces. This took approximately 2 hours. Then I tidied and cleaned the computer desk, and the over-filled and unorganized drawers from the desk in the bedroom. Whew.
Friday night, was more interesting. Andrew and I attended the ESO's final concert for the 2008-2009 season. As mentioned previously, the concert featured the solo violinist James Ehnes and his 1715 Stradivarius violin (well not actually his, it's borrowed from the Fulton Collection). His performance (perhaps not surprising since he has the honour of playing a Strad) was stellar. You might be wondering, could we tell the difference between the sound of the Strad and other violins? Well, no, not really. Probably if we heard a short piece played on the Strad, followed by the same piece played on a second, non-Strad violin the difference would be obvious, but not so much when compared to the entire orchestra. However, the crazy high notes (played well over the finger board) were crystal-clear and gorgeous sounding--not screechy or unpleasant. On the program was: Mendelssohn (A Midsummer Night’s Dream: Overture, Op.21), Chausson (Poème in E-flat Major for Violin, Op.25), Wieniawski (Fantasie on Themes from Gounod’s “Faust”) and one of my favourites, Prokofiev (selections from Romeo and Juliet).
Saturday:
Andrew and I dragged out butts out of bed shortly after 7:30 to go for our Saturday morning long run. We felt since we've run our half marathon and have no current plans to run another this summer we would cut down the distance from about 21 km to about 17 km (our run length is based on time and our run distance is based on the estimation of our km/hr). We returned home shortly before 10:00, scrubbed the grim off our skins (I sweat like the proverbial pig) then headed down to the City Centre mall. Normally we go to the farmers market after our run, but since we're not going to be around much this weekend we skipped it (except for lunch--smokies, on the way home). Andrew needed to purchase some conference appropriate clothing. We wound up at Le Chateau, which used to be my favourite store until I discovered the divine (and expensive) beauty of BCBG. He managed to pick up two nice button down shirts (one white, one green), a tie, a pull over sweater and a blazer.
In the evening Andrew and I finally caught the new Star Trek movie. I balled during the first 10 minutes. It was heart wrenching. Really, you'd have to have a heart of stone not to be moved at least a little. If you've seen the movie, you know what I mean. Otherwise, it was pretty fantastic. Many of the new cast members bare a passing resemblance to the classic actors and it was fun to see how each character popped up and joined the crew of the Enterprise. The plot was interesting too, delving into the motivations behind Spock and Kirk. And it involved time travel. Oh, and Leonard Nemoy reprised his role as Spock (old Spock that is, not young Spock).
Sunday:
Another day that started at 5:30 a.m. This time to take Andrew to the airport so he could head off to New York. Most of the rest of the day was pretty unremarkable (as one might guess from my previous post). I'm looking forward to joining Andrew in New York on Wednesday. It will be really nice to get away for a bit.
Hmmm...I think that's all.
Ciao,
Andrea
Monday, May 11, 2009
A showy weekend
Andrew and I attend two shows this weekend.
1) ESO Friday Night Masters Concert
The turn out for this concert was excellent. Usually the Winspear is only half to three quarter full for the Friday shows, but this weekend it was nearly full. This may be due to the second half of the concert, which was devoted to Gustaf Holst's The Planets, which is fairly well known. Most people are probably familiar with the Mars and Jupiter movements, even if they don't know who wrote them, etc.
One of the things I loved about this performance was the humongous orchestra. It included: 1 tuba, 1 tenor tuba, 3 trombones, 3 trumpets, 5 french horns (yes 5), 2 bassoons, I think there was a bass clarinet, a bunch of flutes, 5 percussionists, 2 harps, an organ and another console (I'm not sure what instrument) and the regular ESO compliment of string instruments. Huge, big sound, especially during Mars. And when the organ joined in--oh man. It could knock someone's socks off, literally. Or at the very least give someone heart palpitations. And I love the romantic bit in Jupiter, where the music swells. I feel like I should be running through a grassy field toward my long desired love.
The first half was less exciting, but it's hard to be compared to The Planets. The first piece was a Canadian composition, unfortunately I've forgotten the composer's name, but it was titled The Wings Beneath the Earth. It was based on a Chilean poem, I believe. It was all right. The music was nothing too unusual and reminded me a little of generic movie soundtrack-type music. Andrew thought it lacked a distinct theme. The other first half piece was Haydn's Mercury Symphony (Symphony 43). Again, very nice, lots of crisp playing from the strings.
One last note. This is just a pet peeve of mine, but, if you're going to go to the orchestra take off your ball cap and leave your blue jeans and sneakers at home. The musicians are in black tie, the least you can do is put on a pair of slacks.
2) Stars on Ice
If you couldn't guess from the previous post Andrew and I attended the Stars on Ice performance at Rexall Place in Edmonton on Saturday night. I may have mentioned, I love figure skating. So, it might not surprise you, dear reader, that we had ice level seats. I love it there. You can see the skaters' facial expressions, hear them talking to one another and sometimes you get to interact with them. You can also see how fast they're skating. The whole show is a great deal of fun, sort of a rock n' roll show on ice. Or maybe it's better described as a musical on ice, I'm not sure.
The cast was mostly Canadian, this year, just two skaters who were not. I was pleased to discover that Stephane Lambiel was a special guest, which wasn't advertised on the Stars on Ice website. He's my new figure skater crush. Not only is he incredibly cute, but he's a talented skater. His spins were amazingly fast with great positions and he has intricate footwork with deep edges. A number of ladies in the audience seemed appreciated his skating as well.
I've already covered my love for Kurt Browning, but I'll said it again briefly: he's awesome. I loved his skating as a kid and I still do now. Ack! Who else to talk about? I could go through each skater individually and describe their numbers, but that wouldn't be terrible interesting and I don't think I have the patience to go through them all. Let's just say everyone was pretty great. In particular I enjoyed numbers by Joannie Rochette, Jeffrey Buttle, and Marie-France Dubreuil and Patrice Lauzon (some of my favourite skaters). I probably spent most of the show grinning stupidly and bouncing to the music selections. We've already put in our request for ice level seats again next year. Thank heavens Andrew is willing to indulge me in this silly passion of mine.
I think I will end this post here. I could spend paragraphs discussing both events, but my purpose for blogging is not to write in-depth reviews, just to record the occasional events in my life.
Ciao,
Andrea
1) ESO Friday Night Masters Concert
The turn out for this concert was excellent. Usually the Winspear is only half to three quarter full for the Friday shows, but this weekend it was nearly full. This may be due to the second half of the concert, which was devoted to Gustaf Holst's The Planets, which is fairly well known. Most people are probably familiar with the Mars and Jupiter movements, even if they don't know who wrote them, etc.
One of the things I loved about this performance was the humongous orchestra. It included: 1 tuba, 1 tenor tuba, 3 trombones, 3 trumpets, 5 french horns (yes 5), 2 bassoons, I think there was a bass clarinet, a bunch of flutes, 5 percussionists, 2 harps, an organ and another console (I'm not sure what instrument) and the regular ESO compliment of string instruments. Huge, big sound, especially during Mars. And when the organ joined in--oh man. It could knock someone's socks off, literally. Or at the very least give someone heart palpitations. And I love the romantic bit in Jupiter, where the music swells. I feel like I should be running through a grassy field toward my long desired love.
The first half was less exciting, but it's hard to be compared to The Planets. The first piece was a Canadian composition, unfortunately I've forgotten the composer's name, but it was titled The Wings Beneath the Earth. It was based on a Chilean poem, I believe. It was all right. The music was nothing too unusual and reminded me a little of generic movie soundtrack-type music. Andrew thought it lacked a distinct theme. The other first half piece was Haydn's Mercury Symphony (Symphony 43). Again, very nice, lots of crisp playing from the strings.
One last note. This is just a pet peeve of mine, but, if you're going to go to the orchestra take off your ball cap and leave your blue jeans and sneakers at home. The musicians are in black tie, the least you can do is put on a pair of slacks.
2) Stars on Ice
If you couldn't guess from the previous post Andrew and I attended the Stars on Ice performance at Rexall Place in Edmonton on Saturday night. I may have mentioned, I love figure skating. So, it might not surprise you, dear reader, that we had ice level seats. I love it there. You can see the skaters' facial expressions, hear them talking to one another and sometimes you get to interact with them. You can also see how fast they're skating. The whole show is a great deal of fun, sort of a rock n' roll show on ice. Or maybe it's better described as a musical on ice, I'm not sure.
The cast was mostly Canadian, this year, just two skaters who were not. I was pleased to discover that Stephane Lambiel was a special guest, which wasn't advertised on the Stars on Ice website. He's my new figure skater crush. Not only is he incredibly cute, but he's a talented skater. His spins were amazingly fast with great positions and he has intricate footwork with deep edges. A number of ladies in the audience seemed appreciated his skating as well.
I've already covered my love for Kurt Browning, but I'll said it again briefly: he's awesome. I loved his skating as a kid and I still do now. Ack! Who else to talk about? I could go through each skater individually and describe their numbers, but that wouldn't be terrible interesting and I don't think I have the patience to go through them all. Let's just say everyone was pretty great. In particular I enjoyed numbers by Joannie Rochette, Jeffrey Buttle, and Marie-France Dubreuil and Patrice Lauzon (some of my favourite skaters). I probably spent most of the show grinning stupidly and bouncing to the music selections. We've already put in our request for ice level seats again next year. Thank heavens Andrew is willing to indulge me in this silly passion of mine.
I think I will end this post here. I could spend paragraphs discussing both events, but my purpose for blogging is not to write in-depth reviews, just to record the occasional events in my life.
Ciao,
Andrea
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