30 November 2014

in which I am a sacred choral music stud


Several Sundays ago I attended two concerts in a row of sacred choral music (some of it officially sacred, all of it sanctified): Magnificat with Schütz's Opus Ultimum at St Mark's Lutheran at 4:00 PM and then, skipping the Magnificat après-concert reception and rushing across the street to the Cathedral, Cappella SF at 6:00 PM with a program called Autumn Light, progressing, as my favorite season does, from the last bright glow of summer to the somber inward reflectiveness of on-coming winter. Altogether that was about three hours of (like an old-school Puritan) sitting on hard pews and paying attention to the divine words. But to hear unified human voices, on what started out as a hot and miserable day, conducting us (as Virgil did Dante) into a sacred realm. . . It was well worth the sore behind and the rushing and the worrying about time and the cost of the tickets. When I left the second concert, there was a cool and blessed wind blowing, and the day's heat and aggravations had, if not vanished, moved somewhere else.


Schütz's Opus Ultimum is also known as Der Schwanengesang: that is, his swan song, his last work before death took him. It is a setting for double chorus of the epic Psalm 119, the longest of the Psalms, an elaborate acrostic in the original Hebrew. The composer asked one of his Dresden colleagues, Constantin Christian Dedekind, to add the instrumentation, but instead Dedekind wrote his own setting. So Magnificat's artistic director, Warren Stewart, stepped in over the centuries to aid Schütz.


In his talk beforehand, Stewart discussed feeling somewhat stymied at the task, until a German colleague of his said, "Well, this is how you'll do it this time!" – with the implication that there will be another time, another opportunity. This sense of the provisional can be oddly freeing. Stewart did a beautiful job, and his introductory talk gave some helpful guides for listening, and as a result the concluding doxology of each section (Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost, As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end, Amen) sounded like the guide and blessing it was meant to be.


Magnificat used one voice per part, and the words came through in a clear and meaningful way, with passionate, committed declamation. The sun burned through the windows as we started, and was declining by the end. It was hot in the church, and paying sustained attention can be exhausting, but there was a sustained and enthusiastic burst of applause at the end. There was a reception afterwards in the lower level of the church, but instead I rushed across the street to the cathedral to buy a ticket for another concert (I had actually not bought tickets for either concert in advance, not sure if I would be able to get to either one).


It turned out I was there in a good amount of time, so I sat in the cathedral, which I haven't been to in a while, just gathering my thoughts. We, the audience for Cappella SF, were in only one section of the arrayed pews, and I vaguely thought about going over to one of the far corners of the church where I could let the sound wash over me in delightful and splendid isolation. But I stayed where I was, figuring that the baffles behind the chorus indicated that the sound would be best if I stayed put, on the aisle in my pew. For Magnificat I had sat up close. That may account for the dramatic vividness of the one sound and the more blended sound of the other. There was interesting variety in the different sounds, each enticing in its own way.


Ragnar Bohlin, the conductor of the redoubtable San Francisco Symphony Chorus, is the artistic director of Cappella SF. His interesting and well-chosen selections were mostly from northern parts; we started with Bach's Singet Dem Herren, followed by Josef Rheinberger's Mass in E-Flat Major, Op 109, Ingavr Lidholm's De Profundis (an interesting mixture of the old prayer with texts by Strindberg), Arvo Pärt's Sieben Magnificat Antiphonen, and concluding with the solemn thoughts of Schnittke's Psalms of Repentance, No. XI and XII.


There was a reception after this concert, too, and since I had no where in particular to go (and was by then both hungry and thirsty, though only physically) I went to this one. I had no idea that below the cathedral was a honeycomb of meeting rooms, though they're in a disappointingly mundane style: down there it seemed not like a catacomb but like a Holiday Inn badly in need of updating. I found the room where the reception was held, and gratefully grabbed some cookies and cheese straws and a glass of wine before I realized that there would be a series of speeches, at which point, having waved to the singers I knew in the chorus, I slipped out into the blessedly cooling dusk. When I was younger I did not hesitate to attend two concerts in a day, but I have less stamina now, and less patience. But this seemed like a special opportunity, and I was glad I took it.


Magnificat's next concert is 19 - 21 December, and they will be performing Cavalli's Christmas Mass in various venues; check here for details. Cappella SF's next concert will be 6 February 2015 at the San Francisco Conservatory of Music and will feature music by Conrad Susa and David Conte; check their website here for more information.


Profane and Sacred with Philharmonia Baroque


Philharmonia Baroque started its season with two enjoyable concerts, both of which I attended in Berkeley, at First Congregational. Each concert offered an opportunity to hear a renowned soloist as well as the excellent local talent.

First up was cellist Steven Isserlis, who joined the band for Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach's Concerto for Violoncello in A major, Wq 172 and then, after the intermission, Boccherini's Concerto for Violoncello No. 7 in G major, G. 480. Those were flanked by two Haydn symphonies: No. 57 in D major to open, and No. 67 in F major to close. The symphonies were crisp and vivid under Nicholas McGegan's direction, but the centerpiece was the two cello concertos. They were recording the Haydn, and asked us to be particularly quiet because of the recording, so of course someone unleashed her hacking cough through both. I wonder if they got anything usable.

Isserlis is a very dramatic player. I enjoyed watching him. He has long, curly grey hair, which he tosses back regularly. During the break my concert companion overheard two old ladies having the following discussion about the concert: "Well, he's had a haircut." "Yes, but he needs another one." Sometimes I wonder if people say things like that because the emotions summoned by music are too intimate to be shared and possibly spoiled by opening them to the air. Other times I think that's just all there is, right there on the surface – they're there for the hair – and it gives me a chuckle.

For whatever reason the playbill listed the concertos in one order and they were performed in reverse; I had heard about this from some of the earlier concerts and by the time I was actually listening I could not remember which we were going to hear first. They were clearly very different pieces of music, though – it was only the names that I couldn't remember. Isserlis spoke a bit before the Boccherini, describing it as "the spirit of the rococo" and very different from the more complex and adventurous CPE Bach piece. Indeed it was lighter, more curly in sound if you see what I mean, and the orchestra was all or almost entirely strings. The violoncello was Boccherini's own instrument, and he wrote himself a delightful showpiece.


The second concert featured countertenor Andreas Scholl and was conducted by Julian Wachner, who also led SF Opera's Partenope. At first glance (at least my first glance) the program seemed sort of an odd though enjoyable jumble: it opened with the Sinfonia from JS Bach's Cantata No. 42, BWV 42, followed by Scholl singing three Handel arias (Va tacito from Giulio Cesare, Dove sei from Rodelinda, and Aure, deh, per pietà from Giulio Cesare), followed by Telemann's Concerto in F major for Violin, Oboe, and Two Horns, TWV 54:F1. After the intermission, Scholl returned for Bach's Cantata No. 170, Vergnügte Ruh, beliebte Seelenlust, BWV 170, and then the Brandenburg Concerto No 1 to close. But it turns out there were several interesting organizational ideas guiding the selections: one was to join three giants of baroque music for compare and contrast purposes and another was to draw attention to some spiritual principles guiding Bach's music. For example, the argument is that though familiarity with the Brandenburg Concertos and unfamiliarity with baroque standards may blunt the point for most of us, the instrumentation in the Brandenburgs is unexpected and a reversal of the usual, illustrating the gospel precepts that the first shall be last and the last first. We were to contrast the Brandenburg that closed the second half with the Telemann that closed the first half, a gorgeous but more strictly correct composition. We were also to hear the connections between the Brandenburg and the cantatas, and contrast the spiritual yearning of the latter with the more world-directed loss and pain in the Handel arias.

Scholl was, not surprisingly, wonderful, with a clear, sweet, full sound. The exemplary players of the natural horn also got quite a workout in this concert; the lead horn, RJ Kelley, spoke at one point and explained why the inside of the horn's bell was painted a dark color: it was because the instruments originated as hunting horns, and because of the way the horn was held (or, more accurately, worn), the inside had to be painted a dark color so that the sun's glare off the metal didn't startle the horse behind, causing him to rear and throw his rider. Fun facts about baroque life! As for the Brandenburg No 1, it reminded me once again how wonderful it can be to hear a work we think we know, after it's been long absent from our ears and even memories. It was an exhilarating jaunt, and they could have retitled it borrowing from one of our contemporary composers: a short ride in a fast machine.

Philharmonia Baroque's next concerts are this week; they're celebrating Christmas with Vivaldi and Zelenka. Check here for details; these sound like fun and unusual concerts.


Haiku 2014/334

Planes pass overhead.
A train whistles, passing through.
I plant fava beans.

29 November 2014

Haiku 2014/333

Dull clouds hang pendant
over the expectant earth.
Christmas music plays.

SF SoundBox

Lisa Hirsch left a comment on my December preview mentioning SF SoundBox, whose opening I had omitted. I started to reply to her comment and realized I needed more space, so here are my thoughts:

SF SoundBox. . . . I went back and forth on including that. My criteria for the things I list is: (1) something I'm going to or (2) something I'd like to go to, given world enough and time. In other words, this list is what they now call "curated." I have a number of swirling thoughts on Sound Box, some of which I will unload here, since you bring it up.

For those who don't know, SF SoundBox is a new initiative by the SF Symphony to create a small informal space for performances. It's in a former (maybe still current?) rehearsal room in Davies Hall. It will rely heavily on a Meyer Sound System. Programs start late in the evening and there will be drinks and snacks (excuse me, "small plates"). I think they also plan to incorporate audio-visuals into the shows. Basically, it's a night club.

I wish them well with it, but it's really not my thing, and not just because the late start times make it a non-starter for someone like me who thinks 8:00 PM is too late to start a show (ironically, I will be in SF that night, but it's much easier to get to Davies from my home in San Leandro than from where I'll be in SF).

I'm put off by the reliance on an electronic sound system. I know it's standard for certain styles of music, and it's creeping more and more into "classical" performances, but I think hearing music in the moment and without enhancement is worth the trouble and enhanced music maybe not so much (as with everything I'm saying, I realize that opinions and tastes will differ on this).

I'm really put off by the self-consciously cool vibe. I assume they're trying for an SF equivalent of NY's Poisson Rouge, which I'm sure is a fun place for many but I always imagine people sitting there self-consciously eating nachos (or other foods that crunch) and deliberately talking during the music to show they "get it." If you really want to listen to music, as opposed to basking in your own coolness, you are OK with sitting there silently. You are also OK with not imposing yourself on those around you. That's something that has evolved in concert halls. Night clubs are different. And that's great, but that's why I don't go to night clubs (or whatever the kids call them these days).

I wonder what kind of research they did on the potential of a place like this, or whether they're just dreaming of a cool involved late-night audience that would of course eat this up with a spoon. As ad agencies and politicians know, you can get awfully far by appealing to how people want to see themselves, as opposed to how they actually have to live, but how many people are going to show up often enough for late-night innovative concerts for this to be worth the expenditure?

Also: though I find it admirable of the SF Symphony to experiment with new types of concerts and concert presentations, I have to say I'm puzzled that most of these ventures, however interesting and worthwhile and fun on their own, do not involve major musical works for orchestra, which is the basic purpose of a symphony orchestra. It seems like an admission of defeat, in a way, as if they feel large orchestras just really aren't what people want these days. But what else are they for? There are already lots of groups that perform chamber music or have interactive concerts etc. (Contrast this with the Berkeley Symphony, which has a major commitment to big new works for orchestra, as opposed to the little tidbits the SF Symphony drops into its schedule).

So: I wish them well, I hope it's a big success, I'm sure I'm missing out, but: this is not for me.

28 November 2014

fun stuff I may or may not get to: December 2014

So we come to the close of another year. This always seems as if it should be a peaceful time for contemplation, but instead I always find myself trying even more desperately than usual to stay afloat. It's an odd month for performances; like most of American society since around Halloween, most of what we get here has some link, outright or indirect, to Christmas – or at least to feelings of good fellowship and a cherishing of light amid the darkness; this will appeal strongly to you, or not. In any case I wish you all a happy merry joyous [whatever you celebrate, even if it's nothing], and as you think about gifts to give, to yourself or others, or donations to make before year's end, please remember to support the artists and organizations that persist in trying to light a candle to show a way through the night.

Messiah (Great was the company of the preachers!)
The splendid American Bach Soloists kick off their season with their popular presentation of Messiah in Grace Cathedral on 16, 18, and 19 December (there are also performances in other, far-flung locations on 14 and 21 December). Check here for more information.

Jane Glover leads the San Francisco Symphony in Messiah on 18 - 20 December, with soloists Yulia van Doren, Leah Wool, Nicholas Phan, and Troy Cook (and of course the Symphony Chorus); more information here.

Christmas
Philharmonia Baroque offers some Christmastime rarities: a recently discovered Dixit Dominus by Vivaldi, the Missa Nativitatis Domini (Mass for Christmas Eve) by Zelenka, the Sonata natalis by Vejvanovsky, and Ave Regina Coelorum by Haydn. Nicholas McGegan leads the band along with excellent soloists Dominique Labelle, Christopher Ainslie, Dashon Burton, and Thomas Cooley on 3 and 5 - 7 December in their usual various locations (though the San Francisco venue this time is Calvary Presbyterian, easily reached on the #3 Jackson bus). More information here.

Cal Performances marks both Christmas and the World War I centennial with All Is Calm: The Christmas Truce of 1914 performed by nine-man vocal ensemble Cantus and actors from Minnesota's Theatre Latté Da. As you can probably tell from the title, the program commemorates the impromptu Christmas Eve cease-fire, which has become well-known through the film Joyeux Noel and Kevin Puts's Pulitzer-Prize winning operatic version, Silent Night, which somebody local needs to do soon *hint, hint*. That's 4 December at First Congregational Church in Berkeley, more information here.

The Oakland East Bay Symphony, led by Music Director Michael Morgan and joined by the Oakland Symphony Chorus, the Oakland Interfaith Gospel Choir, the Mt Eden High School Concert Choir, the Piedmont East Bay Children's Choir, and Linda Tillery & the Cultural Heritage Choir, presents Let Us Break Bread Together, a celebratory holiday extravaganza that this year pays special tribute to the late folk singer and social activist Pete Seeger. That's 14 December at 4:00 at the Paramount in Oakland; details here.

In a co-production with the San Francisco Early Music Society, Magnificat joins with members of The Whole Noyse to present a Christmas mass by Francesco Cavalli; that's 19 - 21 December, in a different location each performance, so check here for details.

SFJazz presents the Blind Boys of Alabama in a Christmas program on 20 December, details here.

The San Francisco Girls Chorus gives a winter program called Northern Lights, featuring Nordic and Nordic-inspired music as well as some traditional Christmas carols (I guess you're supposed to sing along with some of those? My gift to the world is to spare it my singing voice); that's 8 December at Davies Hall; details here.

The San Francisco Symphony, in addition to the Messiah performances mentioned above, has a wide selection of holiday and family concerts, with something for (almost) every taste, ranging from Peter & the Wolf with Rita Moreno to a Disney concert to mariachi to what you might call sophisticated pop; you can check out their offerings for December here.

Hanukkah
SFJazz presents the Klezmatics, performing music from their album Happy Joyous Hanukkah; that's 21 December; details here.

Theatrical
Shotgun Players present Thornton Wilder's Our Town, directed by Susannah Martin, 4 December to 11 January at the Ashby Stage; more information here.

Cutting Ball Theater's Hidden Classics Reading Series presents Calderón's Life is a Dream in a new translation by Andrew Saito, directed by Paige Rogers. That's 7 December at 1:00; more information here.

Piano
San Francisco Performances presents Yuja Wang playing Schubert (as arranged by Liszt and just plain Schubert), Scriabin, and Balakirev at Davies Hall on 1 December; details here. They are also presenting Garrick Ohlson in an all-Scriabin program at the SF Jazz Center on 7 December; details here.

Operatic
This year's fine crop of Adler Fellows give their final 2014 concert on 4 December, at the Scottish Rite Masonic Center, a venue which unfortunately does not seem particularly convenient for non-drivers. Nonetheless it might be worth it to hear more from Hadleigh Adams, Julie Adams, AJ Clueckert, Erin Johnson, Noah Lindquist, Jacqueline Piccolino, Efraín Solís, Zanda Svede, Maria Valdes, Philippe Sly, and Sun Ha Yoon. Details here.

New/Modern Music
Cal Performances presents the Paul Dresher Electro-Acoustic Band and Amy X Neuberg in They Will Have Been So Beautiful: Song & Images of Now, a series of new compositions inspired by Diane Arbus. The composers are Lisa Bielawa, Jay Cloidt, Conrad Cummings, Paul Dresher, Fred Frith, Guillermo Galindo, Carla Kihlstedt, Amy X Neuberg, Ken Ueno, and Pamela Z. Sounds like fun! That's 5 - 6 December at Zellerbach Playhouse; more information here.

The Center for New Music in San Francisco has a constant stream of new and exciting music. Check out the whole schedule here; some things in December that caught my eye are Michael Mizrahi playing new piano music on 7 December; Splinter Reeds & Wiener Kids on 12 December (no idea what they play, but the names are entertaining); Pamela Z and Shinichi Iova-Koga on 15 December; and the Double Negative Ensemble (again, just love the name) on 17 December.

Chamber Music
Cal Performances presents the Takács Quartet in Beethoven's String Quartet, Op. 130. They are joined by violist Erika Eckert for Mozart's String Quintet in G minor. That's 7 December; details here.

Choral Music
The International Orange Chorale of San Francisco celebrates its tenth anniversary with a concert of music written for the ensemble by Robin Estrada, Jeremy Faust, Zane Fiala, Elizabeth Kimble, Noah Luna, Shaffer McGee, Caroline Shaw, and Nicholas Weininger, along with premieres by Nico Muhly and Caroline Shaw. That's 13 December at 7:30 at All Souls Episcopal in Berkeley and 14 December at 6:00 at St Mark's Lutheran in San Francisco. More information here.

Haiku 2014/332

half-empty diner
a tourist eats by himself
enjoying his book

Friday photo 2014/48


Christmas in July: Jackson Street, San Francisco, July 2014

27 November 2014

Haiku 2014/331

before guests arrive
a swell of nervous stillness
and that is your life

26 November 2014

Haiku 2014/330

I should be working
but I'm reading poetry.
There is no third line.