29 December 2012

Performance Practice

The longer I study music in a school setting, the more curious I become with the schools of thought surrounding interpretation of music. I personally think that music should be performed any kind of way that the performer feels best expresses themselves and their ideas. That is not to say that education should do away with teaching performance traditions. Rather, the idea of free, sensible expression should be encouraged more in secondary education.

In my limited observations and experiences, self-expression is a limited privilege to aspiring classical musicians. Unless you fall in the prodigious category or just have no respect for the thoughts of your teacher, you must resign to the conventional, to the common practice, to the historically accurate. It doesn't matter if you are in school to sing, conduct, or play. There is an air of "you're too young to know how you feel. So don't let your feelings interrupt

I think of instrumental music like an argumentative essay. No matter how outlandish or commonplace your argument is, your it must be supported by evidence and take a progression that is logically followed with relative ease. To that point, why is it looked down upon to approach music the same way with something like Bach Cello Suites, Telemann, Mahler or Tchaikovsky symphonies? In these instances, I often hear people say "their interpretation went too far," or "it was too fast," or "the cello suite was too romantic." I always ask, "Well, did it sound good?" Ultimately that's what matters right? I mean, if we were meant to scrupulously follow the "intent of the composer," how would anything we listen to ever sound different?

While Bach, Tchaikovsky, et al possessed a level of genius that I'll never reach, they were also human. Musicians seem to forget that. The pedestal that musicians put these titans on is more like hagiolatry than it is admiration. There is trepidation and needless apprehension, in my opinion, when approaching their music. Music is innately connected to the human experience. So is it really music if the performance of a piece ignores (even if a little bit) the experience of the one resurrecting it? I would say no. It's almost music. It's something watered down. It is academic and contrived.

Two of my favorite people in all of music epitomize the kind of interpretive ideas I'm suggesting. The first is Pablo Casals. He was a brilliant educator, cellist, and conductor. I recordings of him performing all of Bach's Cello Suites. Plainly stated, it's expressive and it's beautiful. He did not concern himself with the "musical right wing," if you will. Rather, he would study the music intimately; its repeated motives, harmonic structure, direction of line, all to render an accurate, human performance. His thoughts are crystal clear and rather moving in David Blum's book, Casals and the Art of Interpretation. It's a long, methodical read but it is full of expression and lots of stories from and of Casal's himself.

The second person whom I really love when it comes to expression is Leonard Bernstein. He possessed a rare fearlessness when on the podium. The first, most powerful thing that comes to mind is a recording of Mahler's Symphony No. 2 he did with The London Symphony Orchestra. The composition is itself very flamboyant but Bernstein takes it to a pleasant extreme. It is a vulnerable openness that I admire and that I strive to bring to everything I perform. Listen to it. It's seriously awesome.

History and the present together make for the most compelling performances and the most authentic ones. Again, just my opinion. But it's something I feel very strongly about.

Random aside:
There is something about moderation these days that evades American culture. Take politics for example, religious right or sassy socialist. Purist or wholistic person?  Choose one. There is no middle ground. Weird. 

28 December 2012

Winning

Charlie Sheen, albeit aggressively insane, taught me a valuable lesson: Make the most of your circumstances.

It's a lesson that I'm taught constantly, but never truly learn. That is to say, my life has been full of undesirable circumstances, even tragic ones, at which points I ended up succeeding when it was all over. Yet I found myself in a new environment (University of Arkansas) with a lot of time on my hands and a lot of dissatisfaction, with the exception of my tuba professor. I didn't have any self pity but I wasn't doing much to be happy either.

This is where Mr. Sheen comes in:

He had a widely publicized drug problem, drinking problem, woman problem. He lost his job on Two and a Half Men*. He had a lot of problems. In spite of a ton of morally objectionable behavior and a rapidly declining career, he got it all back. He got a new tv show, signed commercial contracts with car makers that highlighted his bad-boy-party-hard persona. He took all of his infamy and turned it into something that worked for him. Now, he's laughing all the way to bank.

Of course, my situation was not nearly as dire as his. However, I felt like I was in hell. The way I got out was to find exciting musical things happening outside of school life (getting back home to Michigan helped too). I found two tuba competitions to compete in, I started a website, and I started arranging music. I have no idea how any of these things will play out. How they turn out is not even the point, though a couple grand in competition money would be nice. The point is that in a short amount of time I went from not much going on in my life to a good amount of things going on in it; things I am actually excited about. If I'm not excited about what I'm doing, no one else will be. No one likes a self-deprecating artist fishing for compliments and confidence in other people who don't even care about them that much. It's an ugly and easy trap to succumb to. But it's reality, especially in music. I don't want to be one of those people.

When it all comes down to it, I'm winning.

I'll put myself out into the music world and probably get rejected a ton. The bright side is my chances are greater than when I was doing nothing (i.e. practicing, going home, doing "homework," and sleeping, repeat). No job or competition will win itself on my couch, in my dreams, or writing research papers.  Winning is somewhere between a practice room and the opportunities waiting for me. I have to control all things I can within reason. Charlie Sheen achieved this idea and was 100% more insane and less sober than I am. I have been my biggest critic forever. The time has come, however, when I also need to be my biggest fan.






*Not really a loss in my opinion. That show isn't the slightest bit funny. And have you seen all this business with the Angus T. Jones? All I'm saying, is if the show was cancelled, I wouldn't lose any sleep.

26 December 2012

In Love

Currently in love with organ and brass music. This time of year, playing and sining at masses always puts me in the mood. This past Christmas, I got to sing at The Cathedral of the Most Blessed Sacrament in Detroit, Mi (my hometown). The church is a beautiful, neo-gothic landmark in the city.






Joe, the music director asked me and some of his other college mates to come help out. What a treat! The organ there is massive. Actually there are two sets of pipes that can be played from one organ position. The majority of the service was played from the loft's pipes, which at times felt like the sound was shaking my entire body while I was singing. Among my favorite Christmas hymns to hear is Break Forth, O Beauteous Heavenly Light. I attached a link at the end of this post. Hearing this piece while playing in a brass quintet is killer. Didn't get to do it this year because Dave Saltzman is The Cathedral's "go to" tubist. I definitely can't be mad at that; he sounded awesome.  The bass voice is so active and powerful in this piece of music.

Recently, I bought a tuba and organ piece called Arioso (arr. Baadvik) that I'm not sure if I like yet. Still, I would like to play some combination of brass and organ in the near future. There isn't much in Arkansas in terms of available (and good) organ players. The two I know of are constantly busy. One day it will happen.

Break Forth, O Beauteous Heavenly Light

Long Island Iced Teas

So a guy walks into a bar. Perch, actually. He asks the bartender, *cough* mixologist for a long island iced tea. The mixologist replies, "We don't do long islands." True story. I was there. I won't tell you what I was thinking or what I wanted to say. But I assure you, none of it was good.

But seriously? Your perch is so high that you're above a bar staple?

As a boy from the Midwest, I really appreciate simple things such as meat and potatoes vs. filet mignon and whipped potatoes, bartenders vs. mixologists, and elegant vs. elitist. While these "mixologists" approached simplicity with a decidedly snobbish air, Perch was a great dining experience. The menu varied nicely in price and presentation, decent service for a Saturday night during the dinner rush, and there was even live entertainment.