Seattle Symphony, Berlioz "Symphonie Fantastique", Feb. 13, 2014

Okay, for what I am about to do, I sincerely apologize in advance:

Morlot puts the "Fantastic" in Berlioz's Symphony!

Tonight was my very first hearing of the "Symphonie Fantastique".  I'd heard snippets in music history class, when the brilliance of the idée fixe was extolled, and the professor laughed her head off about the scaffold scene while the rest of us looked on in confusion.  So, yes, I've been quite aware of its existence for some time, and perhaps the reason why I've never heard it until now is the same reason that I've been avoiding Beethoven's Fur Elise, Moonlight Sonata and 9th Symphony...I've heard about it a little too much, thank you.

Apparently my stubbornness was a good thing in this case, because listening to this symphony live was the right thing to do.  The richness and depth of sound, to say nothing of the unique effects, could frankly never hold up in a recording.  

The symphony was written by a 30-year old Berlioz, right after the deaths of Beethoven and Schubert, and his youth (read: immaturity) and vivacity show clearly.  The entire thing is experimental, very programmatic, Wagner before Wagner, though the influence of Beethoven is clear at points.  It scoffs at the very mention of restraint.  Structure is meaningless, for the most part.  And the melodicity runs in one straight, storytale line from beginning to end.  It was written purely for the effect of sound.

Ludovic Morlot gave into that intensity and dramaticism from the start.  The crescendos were sudden and forceful; time was given for each individual effect to reach its full potential.  Sound was king--and I was sitting in a great place to experience it.  From one who has probably listened to concerts from just about everywhere in Benaroya Hall, including on the stage itself, I have to say my favorite place is in the corners of the 3rd tier.  The music collects and reflects in those corners, in particular the basses.  Tonight was a good night for basses.

The first movement, "Reveries and Passions: Largo-Allegro agitato", started out very differently from what I had envisioned -- or enlistened -- in my head.  Very quiet, whispers from the strings.  Murmurs of madness.  As I thought about it, it made perfect sense; dreams come on the shores of semi-consciousness.  The blatancy of the basses used in this movement, suddenly opening a chasm in the orchestration, was amplified in my corner.  I knew we were in for a wild ride; my first thought was "Innovative--and out of its time".  Traditional harmonic progression?  Bah!

There were some particularly beautiful moments in the 2nd movement, "A Ball: Waltz-Allegro non troppo", whereas the rest of the symphony was more impressive than lovely.  Even though it carries over the "fantastic" element, along with a distinct eeriness, the waltz structure itself tamed things down enough to let lyricism carry through.  His use of harps here had a stunning effect, and I was honestly surprised at how much their sound quality carried over the rest of the orchestra.

It took me awhile to realize that the instrument in the spotlight at the beginning of the 3rd movement, "In the Country: Adagio" was a cor anglais.  I'm not sure why it took so long; but the effect was striking.  At this point, the entire audience was more entranced than they would have been in a movie theater; we had been completely drawn in to the dream.

Movement 4, "March to the Scaffold: Allegretto non troppo", contains the very famous "bouncing head" idea.  Morlot made excellent use of the off-stage timpani in this movement, allowing space in the orchestra and holding the mood through every repetition of it.  Oh, and to whomever owns the cell phone that went off during the execution scene at the end, I was sitting directly behind the 1st chair of the 2nd violins (she was watching from the audience tonight), and she had a look on her face that spells Murder if she ever meets you on the street.

The 5th movement, "A Witches' Sabbath: Larghetto-Allegro", took home the cake.  The number of innovative techniques and effects used here was incredible.  It continued to be a good night for the basses in a particularly sinister swirl of notes sans the rest of the orchestra; and for the brass as well.  Everything was used--horns, trumpets, trombones and tubas--and not just for passing effects.  There was another particularly beautiful moment when the three trombones played a melody by themselves in contrapunctual chords.  The violins, at one point, were striking the strings with the bow col legno, for a bones-upon-bones effect.  Finally, the percussion had more fun than the percussion section has had since--well, any time.  Chimes rang from off stage; two bass drums played against each other, as did two sets of timpani; and a cymbal got to do what a cymbal does best.  With a none-too-subtle flourish, the symphony finished--and the cheering began. 

The audience was very appreciative, to say the least.

And the final thought in my mind tonight is:

"Wow, that was fun!"

Cheers
-G

On the Boards: 12 Minutes Max, February 3, 2014

I confess:  it has always been hard for me to "get" modern music, dance, etc.  The abstraction has always driven me to...distraction.  It can be hard to see beauty when you don't know where to look for it.  But then again, the last time I tried, I was in college and completely obsessed with the three Bs.

Okay, I'm still obsessed with the three Bs.  But at least I'm no longer convinced that nothing else is worth listening to.

Tonight, my friend Estrella invited me out to an "On the Boards" event called "12 Minutes Max", which is an eclectic collection of performances by local artists in dance, music, acting, etc.  The venue was an old building in downtown Seattle called Washington Hall.  It is a historic building, and originally the 12 Min Max productions were held there regularly, since 1978.  Tonight was a coming-back to it, though I don't know the details of the absence.  It's a large, block brick building with wooden interior; the event was held in a standard auditorium with the performances in front of the stage.  The acoustics blew me away from the first song.  The sound quality is crystal-clear, warm and round, enveloping; amplifiers unneeded.  This later became a problem, actually, but for now let's focus on the positive.

The first group was a Brazilian band (though the members are not Brazilian) called "Choroloco", consisting of clarinet, guitar, cavaquinho, and percussion. The balance was very good; the two strummed string instruments filling in the range harmonically while the sparkling clarinet (played by Rosalynn De Roos) vividly created and embellished melodies.

The second artist, Maya Horowitz, did a dance called "Self-Portrait" with a voice narrative and piano background.  While her dancing was very enjoyable to watch, and she definitely sold the empathetic side of her story of her battle with dyslexia through her dance, I felt that the narration didn't really speak to me.

The third act was a comedy act by Forrest Baum called "Smarter Than I" in which the artist described his experiences as a father.  Clearly, the audience was well acquainted with him, as his act was received quite favorably, but I felt that whatever inside jokes he was making were not clear enough to those who didn't know him.

The fourth act was unique and poignant.  It consisted of eight ballet/modern dancers who each carried a framed photograph of a man and a tall purple iris; in the beginning, the pictures were set up and the flowers laid to the sides as if at the site of a grave.  They did various things with the pictures; threw them on the ground, picked them up and cradled them, laid them to the side and curled up on the ground next to them; at the end, they each announced the name of the man, who were their fathers, and the interior struggles they had with their relationships, and that they were "laying them aside".  Artistically, I would have liked to have seen more finesse in the production itself, but the idea stuck with me on an emotional level.

The fifth act, the one which my friend had come for specifically, was a duo of singer Cristina Orbe and pixie dancer Huameng Yu. This act appealed to me on several levels; the music was that special blend of quirky and melancholic that I enjoy in particular, particularly the 3rd song, in a very carnival-esque timbre.  Cristina has a very unique voice with moments of powerful clarity; Huameng struck me instantly as "professional"--all of her moves were flawless yet spirited, as if she was giving everything all at once.  The originality of their act as a whole earns a double "Brava!" from me.

"Was Here", a pas de deux consisting of Victoria Jacobs and Laura Aschoff, with live music mixer Nico Tower, at first struck me as very odd, and, though I use this word not in a derogatory sense...queer.  They were both dressed in shabby white outfits and their movements could only be described as gritty.  As the dance progressed, I found myself pulled into it; they used their bodies in a sort of set of developing architectural structures.  There was symbolism mainly of interaction; the images that came to me were of a hospital ward, of death (obviously), of marital strife, and the relationships between electrons in an atom.

The final act of the night, "Narrative Landscapes" by Town Forest, was unfortunately unbearably painful for me--not on account of artistry, but because it was so loud, and the reverberations collaborating with the acoustic qualities of the room vibrated in my entire body to the point that it made me physically ill.  I was unable even to get up and leave; the torment was incredibly intense.  Yes, I get the point.  I just wish I didn't have to experience it.

With the exception of that last act, I'm very glad I attended this event, and I will be sure to come back sometime in the future...hopefully back at Washington Hall.

-G