Classical Music Consulting
Classical Music Consulting
Date posted: 2 Dec 2011
Wednesday night in Montreal, in the beautiful new Maison Symphonique, Sir Roger Norrington, The Orchestre symphonique de Montréal and pianist Leif Ove Andsnes delivered an early Christmas gift. It was in the form of a concert that included the Beethoven Piano Concerto No. 1 and The Symphony No. 2, the London Symphony by Ralph Vaughan Williams.
There is a famous sign as you approach the Marlboro Music Festival in Vermont that could easily have been the subtitle for this concert. It says: ‘Caution, Musicians At Play.’ I cannot remember when I have been buttonholed by so many members of an orchestra, spontaneously declaring how happy they were this week, making music with the seventy-seven year old English maestro, this season celebrating his fiftieth year as a professional musician. The comments ranged from: “He simply breathes music” to: “why can’t all guest conductors have such a rich vein of fantasy to share with us” to: “can he come back every season, please?”
What’s the secret? I’ve known and admired Sir Roger’s work for twenty years, first during my time as Artistic Administrator of the Boston Symphony, where he was a frequent guest in the 1990s, then during my tenure as V.P. for Artists and Repertoire at Decca where he made memorable recordings of Vaughan Williams symphonies, Proms concert bon-bons and a sublime disc with counter tenor Andreas Scholl. We continue to work together as I coordinate his programming for concerts in North America. With each passing year, Sir Roger seems to become more a vessel for the music and less of an ‘interpreter.’
Just this morning, over a hot chocolate (a small vice of his on the road)
he quoted a memoir from about 1913 by Georg Henschel (friend of Brahms and the first conductor of The Boston Symphony). In it Henschel abjures the word ‘interpretation’ as a modern affliction of egocentric conductors and prefers to simply seek out what the music has to say. Sir Roger believes in this self-effacing attitude fervently. He was a pioneer in the historic performance movement in the 1970s, a member of that first generation of ‘vegetarian’ conductors (he hates it when I use that sobriquet) who founded their own orchestras, used modern re-creations of 18th and 19th century instruments and sought ways to re-imagine Bach, Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven and more the way the composers themselves might have heard it.
Sir Roger has mostly moved on from gut stringed violins, fewer-keyed winds and wider bore brass to modern orchestras, where for the last ten years he has preached the gospel according to Norrington to today’s players with their up to date winds and brass and with violins and their brethren using metal core strings. He’s made scores of compact discs with the Stuttgart Radio Symphony (he was Chief Conductor for many years) all of which use, as he calls it “pure tone,” articulation, phrasing and color based on a life of research into what the composers wanted in the fist place.
It is sometimes viewed as an eccentric or even controversial approach (the local critic of the Montreal Gazette simply cannot abide Norrington). But those who ‘get it’ including the orchestras of Philadelphia, St. Luke’s in New York City, Cincinnati, Detroit in the USA and the Montréalers in Canada cherish his all too infrequent visits and play like a house on fire for him. In Europe and Japan he works with upwards of fifteen orchestras a season and every single one of them plays without vibrato, adopts the seating plans of earlier times and give Sir Roger their all.
Sorry for the long digression, because the matter at hand is why the concert Wednesday night was so special and why the Beethoven Piano Concerto No. 1 received an ovation normally reserved for fire-breathing performances of Rachmaninoff and Tchaikovsky warhorses. For starters, Sir Roger asked Mr. Andsnes if he’d entertain placing the piano lengthwise with his back to the audience in the middle of the stage, the spot where the conductor’s podium would normally be. Lid off, the piano and pianist are now in the middle of the strings, and able to look the winds in the eye and most important of all, hear every nuance of the orchestral score. In return, the orchestra players can also hear every nuance of the piano part! What results is chamber music on a grand scale. You can achieve an increased range of subtle dynamics, and the ability to trade off intricate subtleties of phrasing simply not possible in the traditional set up with the piano down in front of the conductor and orchestra with the enormous black lid of the piano acting like a closed door between the soloist and some of the most important players in any concerto.
In one sense, this is not news. Play/conduct concerts with pianists feature this set up all the time. It is a virtue born of the necessity of having the soloist also lead the performance. But, add Roger Norrington’s belief in pure tone, sharp articulation and the amazing ability of the new Montréal hall to project even the softest pianissimo to the back of the auditorium. Mix in Sir Roger’s presence as conductor for the tuttis (seated in the orchestra himself). And then, top it all off with the incredibly sensitive and nuanced playing of Leif Ove Andsnes. The result was thirty-five minutes of heaven on earth.
After intermission, another passion of Norrington’s was on offer with the moody and evocative Symphony No. 2 by Ralph Vaughan Williams. This Edwardian vision of London was written just before the cataclysm of World War I and it has a deeply personal meaning for Norrington. He cherishes letters from his father to his parents during that war, recounting on a weekly basis the sad roll call of older school chums lost in successive battles. Equally important Norrington recalls several encounters with the composer in the 1950s who recounted to him harrowing tales of The Great War wherein Vaughan Williams, even then too old to fight instead drove an ambulance throughout the conflict in the thick of the worst battles.
In other words, Sir Roger is distilling his life experience as an Englishman and a musician in his approach to this symphony. And while the London Symphony is full of what travel writers would call ‘local color’ it is also a symphony with a universal message of the fleeting nature of any particular time or place. For me, the most amazing thing of all is that this was the first-ever subscription performance by the OSM of this symphony and nearly every player who spoke to me said they had never played it anywhere. You’d never know it from the authoritative, subtle, grand and colorful performance Wednesday night. The playfulness, the grandeur and the deep sadness of this music went from heart to heart, earning the orchestra and Norrington a standing ovation.
This seems to be a season wherein I keep coming across senior conductors who are reminding me anew of how important it is to ‘get out of the way’ and let the music speak. Frühbeck de Burgos in September in Cincinnati with a naturally flowing Mahler Symphony No. 1, Michel Plasson in Montréal in October with a slight Gounod Symphony that seduced with utter charm and now Sir Roger with his own passion for heeding Georg Henschel’s dictum of rigorously seeking what the composer intended. I guess it’s actually been one early Christmas gift after another. Who needs Santa Claus when you’ve got mature maestros and great orchestras that respond to their magic!
Date posted: 2 Nov 2011
There’s a short aria coloratura sopranos often choose from Britten’s 'A Midsummer Night’s Dream' as their audition piece. It’s the admonition Titania gives to her retinue while she is entranced by the character of Bottom, though he is transformed by Puck's magic into an ass! She sings: “Be kind and courteous.” I would like that phrase to be placed on top of every pile of resumes at the beginning of all auditions.
We’ve just finished the first round of annual auditions for Cincinnati Opera Young Artists and choristers. I am certain much blogosphere ink has been spilled over the trials and tribulations of classical singing auditions. I don’t profess to offer any revelations, just my own observations after nearly twenty-five years of listening to aspiring singers.
I am often invited to sit on audition panels for Metropolitan Opera auditions, competitions and singing awards foundations. In general, these panels of judges are kind, supportive and aware of just how terrifying the audition atmosphere is. Many of my fellow judges are still active artists or teachers of singing. But from time to time I have encountered a kind of sadism that I find baffling. I’ve been behind that dreaded table at the opposite end of the room from the piano seated with a judge who never looks at the artist, cuts him or her off in mid-phrase barely into an aria or song, or delivers his or her “thank you” with a vocal sneer worthy of Mime at his most insincere.
Don’t they realize that these young men and women are laying themselves bare knowing that they have only two or three minutes to convince you that they have the potential to be the next Renée Fleming or Placido Domingo? Does that judge not appreciate the countless hours, dollars, sweat, tears and sheer grit it takes to try and become an opera singer? Have they forgotten how artificial the audition situation is-poorly lit rooms, dreadful acoustics, no time for rehearsal with the resident accompanist?
My own attitude may strike my colleagues as insincere as well, but I have a smile and a sympathetic gaze for every singer. I look them in the eye and oblige them to sing to me, not to some safely discovered focus point over my head. And when they are not good (which mercifully is rare) I perform for them, giving them an encouraging countenance to relate to as they are simply trying to do their best.
Time and again, I get feedback from artists themselves or managers that singing for Cincinnati Opera was the most pleasurable audition in memory. Nerves were calmed, announced colds or indispositions seemed to diminish and all it took was a smile and a sense conveyed to the singer that we were glad he or she came before us to sing. We’re called ‘judges’ or ‘jury’ in competitions so permit me to close with advice given to me by a real judge during my first stint of jury duty. He reminded the jurors to be: “fair, open-minded, attentive to the circumstances surrounding all aspects of testimony, and to park our prejudices at the door.” Much the same should be said to all of us who sit and judge as we enter this busy audition season. Yes, there will be the occasional ‘no hoper’ who will tax your patience or forbearance, but remember even they are there because singing is so important to them that they risk embarrassment and rejection in the hope that they can move you.
Date posted: 18 Oct 2011
After spending a week visiting London I must say that with all due respect to New York City, London is the capital of classical music. I’ve spent my fair share of time in each metropolis. Every visit to New York leaves me with a sense of its self-regard and grandeur in the arts and that’s terrific. But a trip to London, even for a few days, leaves me with a profound renewed faith in the value of classical music in people’s lives.
A casual count of major orchestras (meaning institutions that have high profile conductors and soloists, that tour and make recordings) gives you at least five-London Philharmonic, London Symphony, Philharmonia, BBC Symphony, Royal Philharmonic, not to mention the well-known smaller ones-Academy of St. Martin-in-the-Fields, English Chamber Orchestra. Add to that the fact that this is still the center of early music with five more internationally lauded ‘bands’ and just to top it off, two major opera houses, both of which are thriving.
You get the picture and I haven’t scratched the surface of the vibrant recital life, contemporary music and the three major conservatories. But what impresses me most of all is the sheer numbers at concerts. Even though we are still in the throes of a stagnant economy Londoners turn out in droves for music. And I mean Londoners. This is not high tourist season and those numbers are down overall anyway. The Japanese musical tourists who used to flood the capitol are gone. They have not been replaced, according to my sources, by the newly enriched Chinese as visitors. It’s natives, in all their wonderful ethnic and cultural diversity who fill The Royal Festival Hall, the Barbican, The Cagodan Hall, The Wigmore Hall, the two opera houses, and so on.
For an impresario, it’s a little bit of heaven on earth. I auditioned superb young singers in the Jette Parker Young Artists Program at the Royal Opera. It was easy to catch the work of several major, established artists in one week and most of all at relatively reasonable prices. Yes, an opening night at The Royal Opera can still destroy your bank account, but a performance late in a run, yields a good ticket at a fair price.
But most of all, it’s those diverse audiences that impress me. Younger and older, a dizzying Babel of languages and cultures can be found at nearly every event. And, they are attentive. Coughers, actually wait until a movement has ended. Silence in general in a concert is a rule, not an exception. It’s a vibe that transmits itself to every corner of a hall that says: music matters, let it work its magic on you, especially in tough times. While a week in London always wrings me out because I book myself solid with meetings, auditions and performances, I fly home, as I am doing while writing this to you, renewed, refreshed and re-committed to my work.
Date posted: 13 Oct 2011
EVANS MIRAGEAS APPOINTED VICE PRESIDENT FOR ARTISTIC PLANNING
OF ATLANTA SYMPHONY ORCHESTRA
Today, the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra announced the appointment of Evans Mirageas as the Orchestra’s Vice President for Artistic Planning, effective January 1, 2012.
Mr. Mirageas joined the Atlanta Symphony in April 2006 as Artistic Advisor and has served as the Orchestra’s Director of Artistic Planning since January 2007. With this appointment, he will be based in Atlanta, but will also remain The Harry T. Wilks Artistic Director of Cincinnati Opera.
Mr. Mirageas’s varied career in classical music has embraced record retail, radio production with WFMT in Chicago, orchestra administration as Artistic Administrator to Seiji Ozawa at the Boston Symphony, and artistic leadership as Senior Vice President of the Decca Record Company. In 1999 Mr. Mirageas and his partner, Thomas Dreeze, launched a consulting business which provides strategic and artistic planning for arts organizations and individual artists. The services range from program planning, vocal casting, media strategy, conductor and executive searches, career counseling, and all other activities that affect the artistic profile of an organization or individual. Mr. Mirageas is also The Harry T. Wilks Artistic Director of Cincinnati Opera, a position he has held since 2005. His professional activities include regular engagements as a recording producer (Decca, Warner Classics, and AVIE), lecturer (Mostly Mozart Festival and the Brooklyn Academy of Music), adjudicator (Sullivan Foundation, Palm Beach Opera, League of American Orchestras, and Metropolitan Opera National Council Regional auditions), and search committee advisor for both executive and music director searches (the Brooklyn Philharmonic, Chicago Sinfonietta and the Cincinnati Symphony).
“I am honored to be entering a new phase of working with the Atlanta Symphony as Vice President of Artistic Planning,” said Mr. Mirageas. “Having known and worked with Robert Spano for over two decades, it is a joy to be able to now live in Atlanta and participate in the exciting future of this superb Orchestra that Robert has shepherded for 10 years already.”
“Since Evans joined the Atlanta Symphony in 2006, he has been a tremendous asset to this organization,” said Atlanta Symphony Orchestra President Stanley E. Romanstein, Ph. D. “I am confident he will continue to bring superior artistic leadership to our administration, and will be instrumental in continuing to advance the Orchestra’s artistry both within our community and around the world.”
Date posted: 2 Oct 2011
September seems to have been my month for veteran conductors. As part of my regular work as an artistic advisor to l’Orchestre symphonique de Montréal I was at the concert this past week conducted by their frequent guest maestro Michel Plasson. A vigorous and charming eighty, Mr. Plasson was the chief conductor of the Orchestre national du Capitole de Toulouse for three decades, made countless recordings with them and has taken on the mantle of senior French conductor worldwide.
Rightly so. In the long and distinguished tradition that includes Charles Munch, and Pierre Monteux, this conductor figured out long ago what it takes to unlock the essence of the best French music and to be an advocate for those lighter works or slighter works that are also part of France’s musical patrimony.
Both gifts were on display last night in the superb new concert hall of the OSM, La Maison Symphonique. Mr. Plasson’s program included Roussel’s 2nd Suite from Bacchus et Ariane, The Saint-Saens Cello Concerto no. 1 with Gautier Capuçon, Valses nobles et sentimentales by Ravel and the Symphony No. 1 in D by Gounod. The OSM gave Plasson that ‘heritage French sound’ for which they have become famous –transparent, subtle, seductive-and an ability to play softly that used to be only apparent on their Decca recordings. Now, in this beautiful new hall, they can all speak in a unison whisper that will send chills up and down your spine it is so delicious to the ear.
The entire program was a delight, but I want to focus on the Gounod Symphony for a particular reason; charm and conviction. Let’s be honest from the start, the Symphony No. 1 by Charles Gounod is no masterpiece. It’s said that Georges Bizet, while a student of Gounod, studied this piece and wrote his own symphony in C, which (even though it was discovered only long after Bizet’s death) is a minor masterpiece. Gounod’s symphony has its intrinsic charms, particularly a finale which is something of an homage to a Haydn symphony first movement-a slow, somewhat mysterious introduction which segues into a jolly major key allegro, but on the whole its musical merits are slight.
However, Michel Plasson treated this music with loving care, exhorting the OSM to present the slender materials with charm and conviction. The OSM’s Assistant Conductor Nathan Brock with whom I was sitting said afterward that following the first two movements he felt he wanted to conduct the piece himself he was so convinced by Plasson’s performance. What maestro Plasson did, to my eye and ear was make certain that the OSM played with considerable clarity. Inner voices were balanced just so, the tempos were shrewdly judged, each one a bit on the faster side of normal and he asked for phrasing and overall color (especially some wonderful solo wind playing) that highlighted the merits of the symphony and disguised its structural weak points.
Most of all, he conducted with an élan that only comes with age. Mr. Plasson has absolutely nothing to prove as an artist these days. He can devote himself to simply and eloquently advocating for the music. He is not particularly showy on the podium, although when the music demands it, particularly in the near orgiastic final pages of the Roussel, he can still let loose with a leap or two that galvanizes his players. Most of all, he seemed to be enjoying himself immensely, reaping the musical rewards of a long career devoted primarily to the music of his countrymen, great and modest. It was an object lesson in the beauty of small things.
