Lessons from the Opry

I'm fresh back from vacation and ready to start thinking about music again. Charleston was a welcome break, but my first musical inspiration came in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee. Those most familiar with my musical preferences know that I can handle almost any type of music for a time. ALMOST any type of music...just not twangy country, bluegrass, and gospel. There is such irony in this fact since I was raised in the deep South, lived in a home that ADORED these sounds, and serve in a church with a rich Southern gospel tradition.

At the end of my vacation with my parents, I found myself back in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee with tickets to see Smokey Mountain Opry. I was convinced this was going to be the longest 2 1/2 hours of my life. Before the show, I turned to my Mom and asked if she would give me CPR if I began to convulse uncontrollably because of the bad music. The newest show on the Parkway, I was pleasantly surprised to find that SMO was a wonderfully entertaining show with strong vocals, an outstanding band, and a wide variety of musical genres.

As I left the theater, my mind began to race with the lessons that could be learned from this experience. Here's what I came up with based upon this single performance and my personal mindset at the moment. (In other words, these are my opinions; if you disagree, that's fine!)

#1 - Exceed their expectations! In any audience, there will always be members expecting a less than stellar performance. Regardless of why, it is our responsibility as engaging performers to rise above their anticipations. This process begins with the programming. Does the performance offer variety of styles, tempi, and moods? Are there rises and falls in the dramatic progression of pieces? As we near the performance date, have we eliminated predictable routines and included elements of surprise -- both aurally and visually?

#2 - Be willing to make difficult cuts for the benefit of the total experience! I have always thought it would be fun to serve as a consultant for a production company doing this type of show. While the whole was exceptional, there were 2 or 3 performers who would be terminated (assuming that last night's performance was the standard) and a few others would be given serious warnings. Additionally, a few songs were beyond poorly performed; rather, they were painful to watch and should be cut from the show. Specifically, the song "You Don't Bring Me Flowers" in the movie set was awkwardly staged, poorly sung, and uncomfortable for the audience. As I look back on the show, it seems clear that "Flowers" was used as a filler in order to allow the technical crew to prepare for the demanding scenes saluting Top Gun that followed -- including the appearance of a fighter jet on stage. While allowing time for the set up, "Flowers" also robbed the audience of excitement and sapped the energy that should have been rising to a climax as we neared the opening rock anthem. Perhaps the song was more effective in the run, but now it has lost its effectiveness. It would be in the best interest of the show to remove it and rearrange the set in order to keep a better pacing.

Similar consideration must be taken in regards to our own solo and ensemble repertoire. Despite the number of hours we have invested in a piece and our emotional connection to it, it is crucial that we examine it truthfully. Is the piece ready for a public hearing? Does its inclusion create an unforeseen problem in the flow of the recital as a whole? If a negative answer arises to either question, we must consider dropping the piece from the concert -- even if the programs have already been printed (I've grown weary of that lame excuse!) -- and do what is the most musically honest choice. Our audience has placed their trust in us as artists to make the tough decisions to insure their total enjoyment of our performance.

#3 - Accentuate your strengths! Three singers rose to the foreground and were amazing: the host (JT, I think), his wife, who was outstanding in the gospel set, and the lone African-American member of the cast. The African-American tenor was featured on only 2 songs that I recall -- "Thriller" and a Frank Sinatra standard which escapes me at the moment -- while other cast members were repeatedly in the spotlight and consistently flat and straining. Where has the musical director been? Even though it's tough in a long run like this, roles need to be reassigned and whatever staging changes necessary need to be made in order to accommodate them. This show is too good to suffer in order to protect performer egos.

The female singer mentioned above was a stand out in her rendition of "How Great Thou Art" in the middle of a struggling 2nd half. Everything in me wanted to see this section extended -- only 2 selections were presented and the spiritual medley was average at best -- and continue to feature her. This would have given ample rest to tired male cast members and recognized that a majority of the Pigeon Forge crowd has a strong affinity for gospel music. Honestly, the big band set at the beginning of the 2nd act was a train wreck. I would shorten it and allow more time for the strong gospel singing.

Early in the show, we were treated to a large ensemble singing a cappella with beautifully complex harmonies and clear attention to detail. The standard was set high and I was excited to hear more. Sadly, that was one of the few times where a large ensemble sang with this degree of accuracy. Even while enjoying the show, I found myself thinking back to the sounds of the opening songs and hoping to hear them again.

Recitalists and conductors often feel pressure to be everything to everyone. While in school, we were required to present a representive piece from each major historical era. Not everyone plays all genres and schools with equal excellence. Personally, I don't play Baroque music well. It's not a matter of technical deficencies or ignorance of the style; the music simply doesn't click with me. On the other hand, I play French and American 20th century music quite well and have spent many years grasping the style of the early Romantics. When I prepare a program, I make sure that I focus on my strengths. It makes me more secure as a player and results in a more satisfying experience for my audience. Do I ever play Baroque music? Of course! When the program cries out for Bach or Scarlatti, I'll add it and do the necessary work to prepare it. I simply don't fall into the trap of believing that a program is incomplete without it.

As you can tell from the lengthy post, Smokey Mountain Opry struck a chord with me. I'll be interested in attending the show again in the future to see if it maintains its high level of performance or if it's just the result of a strong beginning that is not maintained.

 

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A Hometown Recital

Last night, I joined Marty Bishop, a trumpet DMA candidate at the University of North Texas, for a recital at the Valley View High School Fine Arts Center in Jonesboro, Arkansas.  The program featured works by Henry Purcell, Joseph Haydn, Georges Enesco, Stanley Friedman, Gabriel Faure, and Jean-Baptiste Arban.  The recital was a celebration of accomplishment and an opportunity to play for supportive friends and family who have not heard us play in several years.  All in all, last night's performance was one of the most rewarding and enjoyable that I have recently played.

It was refreshing to work with a gifted musician who is confident in his abilities and does not need to come across as an ego maniac.  Other performance experiences this year have not been as pleasant because of overly exalted pride on the part of other participants.  It was refreshing to work with Marty, a musician who not only knows his strengths and weaknesses, but also recognizes that the ensemble playing is much better when kindness and laughter dominate the rehearsal and performance process.

Since this was not a recital that was high pressure, the approach to the program was much more relaxed.  Obviously both Marty and I wanted to play our best;  however, we were both realistic in our expectations as well.  Because we were fitting the rehearsal and performance into our busy holiday plans, we rehearsed on Monday afternoon and presented the recital on the following evening.  That meant that there were unresolved ensemble issues and some moments of uncertainty, but we both were confident enough as individuals that we pulled the performance off with aplomb.

As an ensemble, the highlight of the evening was the Haydn Concerto in Eb Major.  I have always enjoyed this piece and look forward to the opportunity to play the work with a gifted musician.  It was fun and effortless -- a high compliment when speaking of this early classical work. 

Personally, the recital also marked a turning point for me personally.  As a collaborative pianist, I rarely perform solo works.  In addition to generally not enjoying solo playing as much as chamber work, I often shy away from programming a solo work on a chamber program as I feel it is difficult to change mindsets mid-stream.  Last night, however, I played Faure's first nocturne in Eb minor as a solo.  Not only was the playing good, it was quite enjoyable.  Since I was already using scores in the collaborative works, I gave myself permission to present a solo composition with the printed music.  I felt comfortable and was able to think about the music itself rather than fretting over when the inevitable memory slip would occur and if I would be able to recover.  That is such a freeing experience!  I won't say that every program will now contain a piano solo, but I won't be diametrically opposed to it now.

The Beginning of a New Era

On Saturday evening, I attended the opening concert of the 2010-2011 season of the Memphis Symphony Orchestra.  This evening was made additionally more exciting given that it also marked the beginning of Maestro Mei-Ann Chen's tenure as music director.  Given my personal feelings about the city of Memphis in general, I was pleasantly surprised to leave the concert with an optimistic view of the future of classical music in Memphis.

The program featured staples of the Russian repertoire:  Shostakovich's Festive Overture, Op. 96; the well-known First Piano Concerto of Tchaikovsky; and the Scheherazade Symphonic Suite, Op. 35, by Rimsky-Korsakov.  The music programmed was a fitting opening for what appears to be an exciting and well-rounded season of literature for the Symphony.  Dr. Chen appears to be confident in the ability of our players, made evident by the demanding repertoire scheduled.  In her introductory remarks, Chen stated that it was her goal to see MSO become the finest orchestra in the region during her tenure;  based upon the musical sensitivity and excellent sounds she elicited from her players on Saturday, I believe she is just the woman for the job.

The entire program was glorious, but the Rimsky-Korsakov simply took my breath away.  I especially enjoyed the exquisite solo passages played by Concertmaster Susanna Perry Gilmore as well as those from Jennifer Rhodes, principal bassoon, and Scott Moore, principal trumpet.  The commitment to musical excellence demonstrated by these three players in these incredibly demanding passages renewed my hope and faith in our Memphis Symphony.

Rarely will one attend a performance where they enjoy everything.  Saturday evening's concert was no exception.  While I applaud MSO's commitment to developing young musicians, I hope that my ears are never again assaulted by the overpowering sounds of a high school marching band playing in the aisles of the Cannon Center.  Don't misunderstand -- the sound was quite good and I would have appreciated it in a setting designed for such loud decibels.  In the current setting, however, the playing was physically painful.  Based upon the body language of others in the hall, I am not alone in this opinion.  Many audience members -- both in the balconies and on the main floor -- and members of the orchestra could be seen with their hands covering their ears in a vain attempt to muffle the sound.  There must be a compromise;  as a patron, I want to be supportive of the arts in our area schools, but not at the detriment of my hearing.

As far as the Orchestra itself, my only complaint was with the woodwind section.  Throughout the evening, I felt as though some members of the section were struggling to play at the new level that Ms. Chen is introducing.  I realize that we all have performances when we are simply not at our best.  In keeping with that maxim, I will reserve my judgment until I listen further to their performances in the future.  I am certain of this one thing -- Mei-Ann Chen is a gifted woman with a clear goal in mind for the Memphis Symphony Orchestra.  She will bring the best out of all of her musicians, but I have a feeling she will not hesitate to make personnel changes as she deems necessary.

I am looking forward to hearing about the next concert on October 16-17, 2010.  I am thrilled that my dear friend and fellow Pepperdine alumnus, Jessica Rivera, will be the featured soloist on the Barber Knoxville: Summer of 1915.  On the other hand, I am upset that I will miss the performance due to another engagement that weekend on the left coast.

Stanley Drucker with the Eroica Ensemble

On Saturday evening, I had the distinct pleasure of hearing clarinetist Stanley Drucker perform with the Eroica Ensemble under the baton of Michael Gilbert.  Drucker's reputation as an exquisite musician with wonderful technique was obviously well-founded.  While the music presented was a bit banal in my opinion, the performance as a whole was excellent.  To improve future performances, some attention should be given to the running of the front of house.

The program opened with Mozart's overture to The Marriage of Figaro, K. 492.  This delightful piece served as a fitting precursor to the centerpiece of the evening, Drucker's performance of the Clarinet Concerto in A Major, K. 622, also by Mozart.  Drucker's athletic arpeggios and scales were dazzling, but most enjoyable was his attention to the long lyrical lines of the piece.  This was especially evident in the slow middle movement.

Following intermission, Drucker returned to the stage with Weber's Concertino in E-flat Major, Op. 26.  This through-composed work again displayed many of the same characteristics appreciated in the Mozart, only this time on a smaller scale.  To close the evening's concert, the Eroica Ensemble played Haydn's "London" Symphony, No. 104 in D Major.

A few questions remain in my mind.  One is a question of technique;  the other addresses the issue of programming.  Throughout the performances of both the Weber and Mozart Concerto, Mr. Drucker would flail his left hand into the air at the end of extended passages.  When I first noticed it, I assumed it was a communicative device.  As I continued to listen and observe, it became evident that the orchestra continued at each occurrence of the flailing hand without ritardando or accelerando, so it did not appear to be necessary.  As I pondered the technical demands of the clarinet -- given my admittedly limited knowledge of the topic -- I could find no plausible technical reason for the movement.  In fact, I tend to believe that the extraneous movement may have generated issues that would have been eliminated by maintaining a more stable posture.  The only possible explanation I can arrive at is that the flourishes were included to provide visual stimulation for the audience.  I found the dramatic inclusions to detract from the music rather than heightening its intensity.

The question of programming is more philosophical.  Understand that I genuinely like each piece on the program individually.  On Saturday, however, I found myself quite bored by the time the Haydn came around, given the evening's total devotion to music of the Classical era.  I admit that this was my first experience with the Eroica, so I may be missing something about their programming practices and philosophies.  Personally, I found it incredibly difficult to focus on the concert as a whole -- and Mr. Drucker's playing in particular -- given that everything on program was similar in form and harmonic structure.  I don't discount that there are valid reasons for arranging a program in this manner, it is just not my personal preference.

Now to the issue of the house staff.  I realize that the evening's ushers were probably volunteers given Eroica's status as a 501(c)(3) non-profit corporation.  With this in mind, I commend the staff for their warmth and overall welcoming demeanor.  Because of the excellent music coming from the orchestra, I do think there can be some improvements made that will result in a more pleasing experience for everyone.  What I noticed is that two ladies in clicking high heels proceeded to cross behind patrons six times by my count during the middle movement of the Mozart Concerto.  At no time were they approached by a member of the house staff.  I understand that it is not the responsibility of the ushers to instruct obviously oblivious audience members in the finer points of concert etiquette, but I would think it acceptable to request late-comers wait until an acceptable time to locate a seat, especially given the extremely live acoustics of First Congregational Church.

I truly hope that this posting does not convey that I did not enjoy the Eroica concert.  On the contrary, I thought the evening was magnificent and commend Eroica for their contribution to the Memphis music scene.  As a performer, I take notice of many things when attending a concert.  Raising questions does not imply that other wonderful aspects of the evening went unnoticed.  The comments strictly are a representation of the issues on my mind as I left the recital hall on Saturday evening. 

American Art Song Recital

Last evening, I had the good pleasure of attending a recital presented by Diane Reich, soprano, and Scott Holden, piano, at Rhodes College in Memphis, Tennessee. The evening of American Art songs featured works by Amy Beach, Samuel Barber, Henry Mollicone, John Pickett, and Lori Laitman. It was nice to revisit some old friends while being introduced to some wonderful pieces with which I was not familiar.
Art song has always held a special place in my heart because it was where I first began my work as a collaborative artist and remained my specialty throughout my studies. In the past few years, my focus has shifted to instrumental chamber works and I am growing to enjoy that work more and more. Last night's recital was a refreshing bath of sound as Reich's luxurious sounds and impeccable diction washed over my ears and soul. It became evident to me while sitting in last night's audience that it has been far too long since I have collaborated with a singer in recital. That is something that must be rectified soon. I am planning a program with a dear friend for Spring, 2011 in New Mexico, but I truly hope I can find an interested singer in the Memphis area to perform with prior to that engagement.
For this musician, the highlight of the recital was the set of sacred songs composed by Samuel Barber. In addition to his familiar works "Crucifixion" and "A Slumber Song for the Madonna," I was introduced to two other Barber songs that I plan to add to my repertoire soon. "The Praises of God" was quite charming despite its unusual style. "The Monk and His Cat" stole my heart! The American jazz idiom heard in the piano is superbly scored while allowing the cat's wanderings up and down the keyboard to provide interjections of humor without disrupting the music's flow. I suppose it's just another example of Barber's mastery of the vocal form.
The last half of the program featured compositions by living American composers. While all three sets had notable qualities, the works of Henry Mollicone were most interesting to me. I am currently unfamiliar with the composer's work, but anticipate investigating his oeuvre in more detail in the near future. The excellence of the performance of these works can probably be attributed to the fact that Dr. Reich has completed extensive research on the composer's vocal music, making her a leading authority in the field. The first works of Henry Mollicone that I encountered were "The Frost Pane"; "If You Were Coming in Fall"; "I Never Saw a Moor"; and "May's Love." Not only were the vocal lines creative and interesting, but the piano was given exquisite melodies that were an outstanding compliment to the works as a whole.
Now I find myself realizing just how much I miss working with singers on a regular basis in their weekly lessons. The passion for the work went far beyond the people with whom I collaborated or the income earned; the aspect that brought me the most joy was regular interaction with the wonderful literature written for voice and piano. Regardless of what else I may play, my heart will always long to return to my first love of the collaborative piano literature.

Thoughts from the Shanghai Circus

Hello, my friends!  I have missed sharing my thoughts with all of you recently, but felt I needed some time away from life in general, so I took a much needed mini-vacation at the end of last week.  Now that I'm home again, I find myself trying to get back into the routine of writing. 

I traveled to Branson, Missouri, a quaint little town in the Ozark Mountains that is known for its family-friendly stage shows.  Since I was essentially taking a vacation from the life of a performing musician, I decided that I wanted to see a show that didn't have a strong musical theme.  I chose to see the Chinese Acrobats of the New Shanghai Circus.  I shouldn't have been surprised, but as soon as I set out to enjoy an evening without thinking about music, my mind was filled with the things I could take from the program and apply to my music.

On Friday evening, I was drawn into the performance by the beautiful colors, the variety of dances displayed, and the artistry of the overall performance.  This program moved from the grace of the butterfly lovers soaring over the stage on their satin ribbon to masterful displays of technique using a child's toy before ending with the heart-pounding excitement of the acrobats with their see-saw.  The connection to music is fairly clear.  By programming recitals that include moments of sheer beauty in addition to moments of exhilarating spectacle, the audience is thoroughly engaged because of the diversity and variety of music presented.

As I left the auditorium, I continued to reflect on the Circus as a whole.  I felt as though some of the routines were severely inferior to the others.  This was made painfully clear because of the act's placement in the show.  Following one of the most beautiful displays of dance I had ever seen came a second-rate attempt at illusion.  The props did not support the intended illusion; the "magician" had little stage presence.  Sadly, this act occurred half-way through the second act.  Just as the ensemble should have been preparing the audience for a climatic finale, the show hit a major snag from which it never recovered. 

It is essential as performers of any kind that we carefully plan our programs with the audience's emotional journey in mind.  While there may be a piece that I would like to play early in the recital in order to navigate a difficult passage without fatigue beginning to set in, I must remember that the program's order is not exclusively about my comfort.  Certainly I must consider what sequence will allow me to give my best performance.  I must also make sure that my preferred order leads the listener from one piece to the next in order to insure that they have a satisfying musical experience.

Lastly, I noticed the audience's response.  By nature, an acrobat's performance will contain amazing feats performed in rapid succession.  While I do not claim to be either a dancer or acrobat, as a performer, I do understand that the most difficult routines also contain moments of simplicity to allow the audience and artist to prepare themselves for the climax to come.  Friday evening's audience was what I consider to be a typical cross-section of the average American audience.  It was amusing -- and actually frustrating -- to sit in the audience and listen to the "oohs" and "aahs" at the beginning of each new act that were accompanied by thunderous applause.  As the routines proceeded, the spectacle became more exciting and impressive, but the audience had already lavished its highest praise and was ready for the next act to take the stage.

Most disheartening, however, was the realization that audiences enjoy thrilling moments because there is always the possibility of failure.  During a wonderfully beautiful segment featuring a cast of young ladies who were balancing spinning plates high in the air while performing elegant gymnastic tricks, one member of the cast appeared to have lost focus momentarily, causing plates to noisily crash to the floor.  These professionals continued to maintain their part in the scene while making every effort to discreetly clean up their mess in order to insure their colleagues continued success in the performance.  While I was thrilled with their commitment to recovery, I was appalled by the audience's response. 

A mature couple sat directly behind me and loudly commented on the accident.  Not only did they point out the misstep and laugh, they made wagers with each other for the rest of the night regarding which performers would be the next to stumble.  (Thankfully, this was the only catastrophe that we would observe on this night.)  What I came to realize is that audiences are often thrilled by technical display not only because of the excitement they provide, but also because of the possibility that they may catch us in an obvious error.  Am I being too pessimistic to think that a performer's mistake gives the audience an opportunity to lessen the talent of the individual and feel better about themselves?  I hope I am only seeing the worst in people, but I fear that it may be all too true. 

I do not intend to end this post with a negative impression.  Facts are facts:  planning is essential, artistry must be the centerpiece of our programs, and audiences can be mean.  The good news is that I am only responsible for two of those aspects.  If I plan effectively and relentlessly pursue artistic excellence in my concerts, I have done everything I can.  While I want the audience to have a pleasing experience, I know that their responses -- whether positive or negative -- do not define my talent, my happiness, nor my success.  That's the biggest lesson I walked away with after visiting the Shanghai Circus while on vacation.

Balance Issues

Last night, the 3-D Trio presented our Patriotic program at Buntyn Presbyterian Church. The recital went well for the most part and everyone seemed to have enjoyed the music. The only frustration on the part of the performers were all related to issues of balance.

Buntyn is a beautiful facility with high ceilings and lots of exposed wood. The acoustics are wonderful. There is one major problem for me though: the piano (a 5'4" baby grand) is not located on the stage, but sits on the floor at the front of the congregation. My colleagues opt to stand on the stage above me while I'm on the floor. I understand the desire to utilize the stage as is, but also know that the arrangement is making balance issues extremely difficult.

In order to allow the flute to take full advantage of the piano's resonance, we always play with the lid on short stick (at least). In an effort to lessen the overpowering tendencies of the piano in this arrangement, we have turned the piano around so the sound is shooting upstage; the result is that there is a nice balance in the performing area, but that the sound is bouncing off the back wall and giving the audience a double dose of piano! Our dilemma was further compounded last night by the selection of repertoire that was not in an optimum range for our soprano, requiring that she use a microphone for the entire recital. Throw in a lot of piccolo (an instrument that I HATE trying to accompany because of the inherent balance issues) and you are beginning to understand my frustrations.

The obvious solution to my mind is to use a traditional standing arrangement. However, if my colleagues are not willing to make this concession, what options do you see other than playing the entire program una corda? This space is baffling to me at the moment. I'll try to post a video in the near future from this space so you can see and hear the issues.

What have been your worst arrangement issues that caused you balance issues? How did you combat it? Once I come up with a solution for this performance space that we will continue to use (since it is free and readily available to our ensemble upon request), I'll let you know what we're doing and how it's working for us.

Now I'm going to try to catch up on some rest and reading.....my arms and shoulders are killing me at the moment!

Kennith

A Great Documentary

This morning I watched a wonderful documentary that I wanted to share with all of you. Note by Note: The Making of Steinway L1037 follows this single concert grand from the earliest stages of shaping the frame to the final tuning. Along the way, master pianists from all genres discuss how each instrument has a personality of its own. I thought the film beautifully explained the distinction between instruments in a manner that a non-musician could understand and respect. By the end of the documentary, you will be reminded of the craftsmanship that is so highly prized in the Steinway and appreciate anew the personal attention that is given each instrument making each one unique and one of the finest instruments available.