Building For The Future

This is going to be a delicately written post, for a lot of reasons. Anytime politics and the arts start to get mixed up with each other, there seems to be a better than even chance that someone is going to start shouting at someone else, and the last thing we want is for that to happen here. But I wanted to draw your attention to a major project that the Minnesota Orchestra is preparing to undertake, and offer up some ways you could help us out if you felt like it.

If you follow the Twin Cities' arts scene closely, you've probably read something about a proposed renovation of Orchestra Hall that's been in the works for years now. You may even remember when the (decidedly preliminary) plan was for this to be a truly gargantuan, $100-million undertaking, and people were excitedly throwing out ambitious ideas from a full-scale restaurant in the lobby to a condo tower on top of the hall.

That, of course, was in the days when the American economy looked unstoppable, and huge cultural construction projects were popping up all over the Twin Cities, and for that matter, across the country. Today, as everyone knows all too well, things are very, very different, and the folks in charge of our organization have known for some time that we would need to significantly scale back our plans for the venue that houses our orchestra, our patrons, and our staff if we wanted the dream of a better Orchestra Hall to come to fruition.

Everyone involved knew immediately that, when we began to talk about what absolutely has to change to make Orchestra Hall a truly functional and welcoming 21st-century venue, we would have to focus primarily on the spaces that we musicians are almost never in. To put a finer point on it: our concert hall seats 2,450 people. Our lobby, on the other hand, can comfortably hold about 800. That's not a good situation for anyone trying to find a bathroom, buy a drink at intermission, or even just have a nice conversation before or after the show.

Secondly, as much as we all love the interior of our acoustically superior hall, it was built in the early 1970s, and technology has come a long way since then, to put it mildly. We have one of the very best stage crews in the business, but they are frustrated every day by how difficult it is to stage the simplest of events (especially Young People's Concerts, which tend to involve elaborate staging and amplification) with the sound, light, and audio/video equipment we have available. And speaking of education, the concerts we play for kids have become a hugely important part of our mission as an orchestra, and the renovation plans include the addition of more flexible and welcoming spaces for children to experience live music. As someone who spends a lot of hours playing the award-winning WAMSO Kinder Konzerts for the pre-K set, I can't wait for the day when we can give those kids a truly first-class place to visit.

Now, over the next few weeks, you're likely going to be seeing news about our plans start popping up again in the local press, because the legislature is about to open its session, and begin considering what capital projects to include in this year's bonding bill. For cultural organizations, a bonding request is not something you approach lightly. No one wants to be seen asking the public to foot the cost of a project that doesn't already have significant measurable public support. And no one needs to be told that money is tight everywhere right now.

Still, with construction costs going nowhere but up, and nearly 2/3 of the cost of our scaled-back renovation already pledged from private individuals and corporate supporters, we're taking our case to the legislature and Governor Pawlenty this session, in an effort not only to better serve the hundreds of thousands who come through our doors every season, but also to create hundreds of construction jobs at a time when our state desperately needs them. The amount we're asking for isn't small, but it is, I believe, responsible, and promises a huge return on investment.

Here's where you come in. If this is something that interests you, and you'd like to help us out by showing your support for the Orchestra Hall renovation project, we've created a special corner of our web site which contains a lot more information, answers to a lot of questions about what we're planning and why we're planning it now, and even an e-mail list you can join to get updates on the bonding process. Essentially, this is a way for you to let those who will hold the fate of this project in their hands know that you care about the Minnesota Orchestra and its continued vitality.

Make no mistake: the folks at the legislature and in the governor's office are going to have to make a lot of very tough decisions in the 2010 session. And when you ask people in government how they make calls like these, they tell you that, first and foremost, they try to find out how their constituents feel, and where their priorities lie.

We know for a fact (in fact, those of us in the orchestra brag about it regularly to our friends who work in other US cities) that the people of Minneapolis-St. Paul are second to none in their passionate support for the arts and for live music in particular. Our audiences are among the most enthusiastic and diverse that you'll find anywhere, and I love the fact that, on any given night, I can look out into the crowd at Orchestra Hall and see a middle-aged guy in a suit seated next to a college student who looks like he's going duck hunting. It's that kind of engagement from all corners of the community that makes Minnesota such an incredible place to live and work. I wouldn't trade it for anything, and I'm guessing that most of you wouldn't, either.

So if you'd like to help support our Building For The Future project, please take a moment to click over to the site and sign up to be an advocate for Orchestra Hall. We need all the help we can get, and hopefully, we'll be able to return the favor several times over in the next few years...

Context Is Everything. Unless It Isn't.

My former colleague over at ArtsJournal.com, Laura Collins-Hughes, has detected a noticable uptick in the number of people who seem to be reading and talking about Dickens lately, and she speculates that it may be that the gloomy, moralizing Dickens is the ideal author for Hard Times. Which is interesting, because I have to confess that Hard Times make me want to read David Sedaris and watch old Eddie Izzard routines until I forget that we're in Hard Times.

I wonder, too, about the music people choose to listen to when the real world is getting to be a bit much to bear. Does it make you more likely to look for something deep, dark, and meaningful on a concert program, or something escapist and light? What's the better cure for an economic malaise and global unrest, something that socks you in the stomach but makes you think, or something that lets you just drift away from reality for a while? Mahler 6 or The Marriage of Figaro? Britten's War Requiem or Bernstein's West Side Story? Sinead O'Connor or Sonny & Cher?

More importantly, does anyone's choice really change that much when times aren't tough? If you answered Mozart, Bernstein, and the Bonos above, would you really be likely to drop $50 on an evening of Mahler if your 401(k) was looking a little better and there was peace in the Middle East? Or are we just who we are in our cultural preferences, regardless of global circumstances?

"Get your hands off of my country"...

...says Polish pianist Krystian Zimerman, causing great commotion in Disney Hall.

Art and politics are uneasy, if constant, bedfellows. I for one don't begrudge the opportunity (quite literally, a stage!) to air one's views (as do others); I only wonder why Zimerman chose this point in time and not, say, sometime in the past 8 years.

Putting aside whether you agree or not with his politics, what do you make of the fact that the statement was made in a concert venue (keeping in mind that he said his piece right before launching into the final work of the program, fellow countryman Karol Szymanowski’s “Variations on a Polish Folk Theme")?

Busted.

So, as it turns out, that wonderful live performance at the inauguration by Yo-Yo Ma, Itzhak Perlman, et al? Wasn't so live.

Now, on the one hand, it seems silly to criticize either the performers or the organizers for having pre-recorded the piece that they then pretended to play live, since playing instruments with any degree of dexterity when temps are in the teens is essentially impossible. (I should also point out that, had it been the Minnesota Orchestra scheduled to play at the inauguration, the performance would simply not have happened, since we have strict minimum temperature standards to protect our instruments, and that minimum is a helluva lot higher than an average January temp in D.C.)

On the other hand, controversies over lip-synching seem to crop up constantly when pop music is involved (Ashlee Simpson, anyone?), and it doesn't seem fair that classical musicians should get a complete pass. So what do you think? Should the pre-taping have been explicitly disclosed at the time of the "performance"? Should, perhaps, the pre-taping have included video, which would have allowed everyone present to watch the actual performance, rather than a mock-up? Or is this all just much ado about nothing?

Music fit for a president

By coincidence of schedule, yesterday was a day off for me, which meant many hours glued to Inauguration coverage on an endless assortment of news channels (although, I must say, for no-frills production and the ever-amusing/enlightening/frightening call-ins, no-one beats C-Span!).

An absolutely extraordinary and historic day in so many ways (when was the last time you heard a president discuss the importance of personal and collective responsibility in an Inaugural Address??), more so for the musical highlights. Aside from the usual lineup of military bands and singing sailors (the national anthem was sung by the aptly named "U.S. Navy Band Sea Chanters"), things got off to a soulful start thanks to a great "My Country Tis of Thee" from the incomparable Aretha Franklin.

What I'd been looking forward to, however, was the performance that immediately preceded the presidential swearing-in, a John Williams work/arrangement performed by Itzhak Perlman, Anthony McGill, Yo Yo Ma and Gabriela Montero, the first time in memory a quartet of classical musicians has been presented as part of the ceremony:



I was surprised to see Ma playing a conventional cello (I'm wondering, was he playing his Montagnana??) rather than the much-touted carbon fiber instrument. Kudos to the quartet for performing under unideal conditions - outdoors, exposed, in sub-freezing temperatures. And a special congratulations to Anthony McGill, a Curtis classmate of mine, who I saw last about a month ago at an after-hours party in Philly (at the Russian United Beneficial Association hall - a story for another time...).

Another bit of alma mater pride came during the post-Inaugural parade:



The Punahou School JROTC and marching band proudly participated in the event (during which President Obama gleefully waved a shaka sign or two). Punahou is, now famously, Obama's alma mater, and mine as well (and the President and I also share that whole growing-up-in-Hawaii thing). Having come from a place where the average January temperature is 81 degrees Fahrenheit, I can only imagine how the kids in the band felt, but they did themselves proud, playing an upbeat version of "Aloha 'Oe" by Queen Lili'uokalani, the last monarch of Hawai'i.

A historic day.

Happy Year of the Cow!

Well, it's actually the Year of the Ox (if you're into the whole Chinese/Japanese astrology/zodiac thing), but Cow is so much funnier...

Of course, no mention of the New Year would be complete without a Neujahrs-Konzert with the Vienna Philharmonic, a tradition since 1939, this year led by the inimitable Daniel Barenboim.

I've written about Mr. Barenboim and his West-Eastern Divan Orchestra - although ostensibly non-political, the ensemble has given him a platform to promote deeper understanding between two opposing factions, and given the current violence in the region, I was wondering if Barenboim would take advantage of the Vienna podium to share his thoughts.

Which he certainly did - while his remarks at the actual concert were limited to a simple wish that 2009 be a "year of peace in the world and of human justice in the Middle East", he did release a statement that was tantamount to a criticism of Israeli air strikes against Palestinians on the Gaza Strip.

While one may not agree with his politics, it's hard not to admire a man who takes a stand on his strongly-held convictions, particularly when those convictions are borne of an understanding of both perspectives (the Israeli-Argentinian conductor is also an honorary Palestinian citizen).

But, as always, the music transcends all. I particularly love "Spharenklange" by the Waltz King's brother, Josef Strauss:



I'm not a huge fan of the sweeping shots of the Alps (and the odd close-ups of alpine lichen), but, hey, it's TV, people! The notion of "Harmony of the Spheres" is a nice one, particularly given the tenor of violence in the world discussed earlier.

And of course, you can't have a New Year's Concert without the obligatory encores - in this case, ALWAYS "Blue Danube" and my favorite, Radetzky March, the perennial opportunity for conductors to ham it up and mug for the audience/camera (not that there's anything wrong with that!!):




Wishing a healthy, happy and unturbulent New Year to all!!

Brazen Tactics

2009 is shaping up to be one of those years at the Minnesota Legislature, and at legislatures across the country, as well. Most states are predicting massive deficits (I said most,) and since, unlike the federal government, states aren't allowed to run deficits, taxes have either got to be raised, or important programs have to be cut. And guess which option tends to be more politically palatable to your elected representatives?

Yeah, you got that right. Raising taxes in the midst of a deep recession might be an economically sound move, but no way is the Distinguished Gentleman From Lyon County (or wherever) gonna have that particular vote on his record when the 2010 elections roll around. (And truth be told, since the stock market tanked, I haven't seen many of those Happy To Pay For A Better Minnesota yard signs that were so popular with Twin Cities liberals a few years back.) So stuff is gonna get cut. Lots of stuff. To the bone. And that means that, over the next several months, we can more or less expect interest group after interest group to truck out to the Capitol, hats in hand, begging for the cuts to be less severe than they're expecting.

The arts are always one of the first things to get slashed in this sort of environment, mainly because it's all too easy for grandstanding politicians to imply (implicitly or explicitly) that only rich robber barons care about the symphony or the thea-tah, and that cutting them is actually a boon to ordinary, hard-working Americans who like monster truck rallies and apple pie. (Never mind that it's the musicians and actors working in the symphonies and theaters of America who have largely rallied to provide low-cost or no-cost educational options to kids whose schools have had all their funding for such things yanked by the very same politicians who now want to step on the throat of the arts.)

Making things worse this year is the fact that Minnesotans just voted fairly overwhelmingly to pass the Clean Water, Land and Legacy Amendment, which, while controversial, demonstrated pretty dramatically that the residents of this state continue to place a very high value on the things that separate us from, say, Delaware - wide open spaces, beautiful lakes and rivers, and cultural offerings far out of proportion to our size as a populace. Trouble is, this statement by voters isn't being seen by those at the Lege as a sign of where their constituents' priorities lie. No, it's being taken as a slap in the face, a repudiation of the legislative branch as the holder of the governmental pursestrings, and most ominously, a clear guide to what programs they ought to cut first.

Yup, that's the logic at work over in certain corners of the Capitol. Because the residents of the state just voted in huge numbers to fund the arts, the outdoors, and the environment whether the Lege has the guts to agree or not, a number of legislators are now openly proclaiming that every existing program focusing on one of those three areas that they still have control over ought to be axed, or at least severely cut back. Never mind that the new funding wasn't meant to replace existing funds, but to supplement them - it's all about political expediency, and the noise machine that is talk radio and the blogosphere should provide just enough political cover to prevent there from being any real consequences for defying the fairly obvious will of the electorate.

Interestingly, one legislator says that there might be a way to prevent the seemingly inevitable slashing and burning of the nonprofit sector that's likely to be on the way in the 2009 session: just demand more than you got last year, and do it with a straight face...

"Did the Wall Street lobbyists stop lobbying for the $700 billion bailout? Did the auto industry people stop lobbying and say, 'Oh please, don't cut us!'... You have to have the confidence to do what the big players do—which is ask for more."

It's a brilliant strategy when you think about it, and it'll be interesting to see whether any of Minnesota's non-profit leaders have the gall to actually try it. I suspect that, for it to work, it would take a coalition of many groups all working in concert, and even then, the Lege might simply shrug and cut away. But it's a better idea than any other I've heard lately, and in this year, in this state, it strikes me that our actions, or lack thereof, could go a long way towards determining whether Minnesota continues to sport one of the highest qualities of life in America, or decides that good enough is just gonna have to be good enough, which I believe is the state motto of Nebraska. What was that about a cold Omaha...?

(Disclaimers and disclosures: the Minnesota Orchestral Association contributed $15,000 towards statewide lobbying efforts to pass the Clean Water, Land and Legacy Amendment, although no one in the MOA ever asked me what I thought about it. Secondly, contrary to popular perception, the Minnesota Orchestra is not funded by the government, but by individual and corporate donors as well as by funds drawn from our various endowments, all of which were built with private money. It is my understanding that the orchestra could wind up receiving funds from the proceeds raised by the new amendment, but where that money will go, and in what amounts, has not yet been officially determined. Finally, as stated in our Blog Policies, the views expressed in this and all other posts are not necessarily those of the MOA, its staff, or 97 of the 98 musicians of the orchestra.)

Yin and Yang

A little counterbalance to Sam's post on the Rozhdestvensky meltdown over at the Boston Symphony (to which I have mixed feelings. The first reaction is, "Oh, come on!" - it's about the music in the end, not the egos, what's with the unbecoming hissy fit? The second reaction; well, he does come from an era where artists of his caliber were treated with a certain respect and gravitas that has largely been abandoned in the current marketing-driven era, and I can understand his consternation at feeling deeply insulted. Perspective is a funny thing, isn't it?)

In any case, as much as conductors can be the source of kerfulffle, they can act as a peacemaker of sorts; I'm thinking of a recent New York times article profiling Daniel Barenboim. Barenboim, amongst his myriad other activities, which run the gamut from guest conducting at the Met to premiering, as pianist, Elliott Carter's "Interventions" with the Boston Symphony, is the conductor of the West-Eastern Divan, an orchestras of young Arabs and Israelis that he founded in 1999 with Edward Said.

Barenboim on his ensemble: “The Divan is deeply nonpolitical in the end. In other words, it’s not in any way linked to the situation in Israel and the occupied territories. If we all end up killing each other in the Middle East, then we at the Divan would have had 10 years of a beautiful experience. Or else this is 10 years of preparing for a beautiful situation. Either way, it’s worthwhile.”

It's an endeavor that promises harmony on the common ground of music for people who have little common ground, and one that deserves the lauds it receives.

But what caught my eye in this article was an excerpt from Barenboim's recently published book, “Music Quickens Time” (Verso Books). I've often spoken of the deep comfort I feel on the podium; I've never been able to adequately explain what that is - and Barenboim comes much closer to the sentiment than I've been able to express:

“When playing music, it is possible to achieve a unique state of peace, partly due to the fact that one can control, through sound, the relationship between life and death...Since every note produced by a human being has a human quality, there is a feeling of death with the end of each one, and through that experience there is a transcendence of all the emotions that these notes can have in their short lives; in a way, one is in direct contact with timelessness.”

Good stuff, however you look at it.

One more day

I can't wait until the election is over - it's been an exhausting media blitz in the last few days, and I'm itching to get back into a more regular news cycle - I mean, does anyone know what's been going on in the rest of the world in the last week or so? (A random recap: it's been flooding in Yemen, Panasonic is making Sanyo a subsidiary, and Norway is lending cash-strapped Iceland 500M Euros).

But here's a work of utter musical cleverness, good for a smile, regardless of your political predisposition (the mimicry of vocal cadences is pretty amazing!):




Hoping that everyone is fulfilling their civic duty and casting their ballot today!

Making The Political Personal

Unlike, say, actors and rock stars, classical musicians aren't known for taking public stands on political issues. In fact, most of us try to avoid partisan subjects entirely when we're in public view. Part of the reason for this is that we're so dependent on the continued good will and fiscal support of the public, and while it's fair to say that a majority of musicians (like most people in the arts) lean to the left, our audiences tend to be all over the map, politically. Also, there's the obvious fact that classical musicians aren't really all that famous, so there's little reason to suspect that our speaking out on issues of the day would have any impact at all.

But this year, I've noticed a few instances of musicians making political noise. This week, the blogosphere is falling all over itself to report that among the dozens (hundreds?) of celebrities who have now produced videos and TV ads opposing a California ballot measure that would amend the state constitution to specifically prohibit same-sex marriage is none other than violin über-star Itzhak Perlman.



Normally, I don't know how I'd feel about this. Celebrity speeches rarely hold much interest for me, and I don't really understand why anyone thinks that Margaret Cho's opposition to a ballot issue is going to affect anyone's vote but Margaret Cho's. (Especially since the "No on Prop 8" campaign is already running some pretty clever ads that actually might swing a few votes.)

But what makes Perlman's ad powerful is that he isn't speaking as a celebrity - he's speaking as a father of five children, one of whom is openly gay and married to a same-sex partner. As a result, the ad comes off (to me, at least) as more personal and less preachy. What Perlman is saying sounds a lot like the things my parents say whenever issues like this come up in the national debate. (I've been out to my family since I was a teenager, and I'm constantly amused by the fact that my always supportive parents are often far more outraged by antigay rhetoric than I am.)

So what about it? Does it bother you when someone like Itzhak Perlman steps into the political arena for a cause he clearly has a personal stake in? Does it bother you that there is currently a banner adorning Orchestra Hall touting Minnesota's own proposed constitutional amendment which would dedicate new funding to the arts and the environment? If you've spotted any Minnesota Orchestra musicians sporting McCain or Obama stickers on our instrument cases after a concert recently (and there are some prominent examples of each,) were you surprised? Pleased? Offended? Let us know in the comments...

Musical Isolationism

David Patrick Stearns had an interesting piece in this past Sunday's Philadelphia Inquirer (one of the few American dailies that still employs not one, but two full-time reporters covering the classical beat,) in which he points out a puzzling new development in our industry. Stearns writes: "With a weak dollar, strong euro, U.S. visas requiring much paperwork, and risk-wary American presenters, the once-global community of classical musicians has become fragmented in ways that beloved, familiar talents on one side of the ocean are unknown on the other."

Now, to some degree, America and Europe have always had differing views of various composers and performers, and what's trendy and popular in New York or Boston might be seen as unimportant or unmusical in Berlin and Vienna. But the point Stearns is making is that the musical universes of Europe and America increasingly seem to be operating on parallel tracks separated by a brick wall. We in the States simply don't get to hear a lot of the top European talent that's out there these days, because getting permission for them to enter our country has become such a hassle.

Case in point: the Finnish a cappella group, Rajaton, with whom we performed last weekend's pops shows, almost didn't make it to Minneapolis, despite months of careful preparations by both their people and ours. They had a valid American work visa that was supposed to cover them for several US performances over the course of a calendar year, as did conductor Jaakko Kuusisto, and since none of them were carrying instruments, they wouldn't even need to worry about all the hassles most musicians have to go through every time we try to get on an airplane.

But the day before we were scheduled to have two rehearsals for the Rajaton show, word filtered through Orchestra Hall that conductor and band were stuck in Edmonton, Alberta, where they'd just done the same show we were about to do, and were being denied entry to the US pending a closer examination of their paperwork. Our people, who have been through this garbage more times than they probably care to remember, got on the line to whatever government entities you call in these situations, and figured out that the hang-up seemed to be that our guests were European citizens trying to enter the US through Canada. Apparently, this sends up all sorts of red flags over at Homeland Security, I suppose on the general assumption that a terrorist wanting to sneak into the US might figure he had a better shot if he could come across the border from a country friendly to America. (If, in fact, there are any of those left.)

The upshot of the delay was that we had to cancel one of our two rehearsals when it became clear that there would be no one present to lead us or sing with us. And by the time the second rehearsal rolled around, only conductor Kuusisto had managed to make it past the border patrol. So we rehearsed the whole show without our soloists (some of us did, ahem, try to be helpful by singing key passages of our favorite Queen songs as we played,) and crossed our fingers. And eventually, late Thursday evening, Rajaton managed to get on a plane bound for MSP, courtesy of an artful, complicated, and completely ridiculous bit of paper-shuffling that involved our management, their visa, and for reasons that will never really be clear to me, the Charlotte Symphony.

The show went off without a hitch, thanks mainly to Kuusisto's perfectly prepared and meticulously annotated orchestra parts. But I can't helping thinking that, were I a European performer going through what our guests had just gone through, I'd think seriously about whether I wanted to accept any future offers to perform in America. And that's bad news for all of us.

Who Knew Nixon Was Such A Softie?

In honor of closing night at the Republican Convention across the river, here's a clip of another (in)famous Republican politician tickling the ivories. (And yes, that's Jack Paar introducing him.) For some reason, the sound cuts out about 40 seconds before the end of the clip, but you'll have the general idea by then...



Judging by the reference to "last November" and the joviality of the question about "future political plans," I'm guessing this was in 1961, after Nixon had lost the presidential race to Jack Kennedy, and not post-Watergate. (Come to think of it, a post-Watergate clip would probably have been in color, too.) Thanks to MN Orch online marketing guru Brian Mangin for pointing me to the clip...

Saying Something Nice

As everyone knows, the Cities are swarming with Republicans this week, and the whole metro has taken on a strange feel. Cities don't come much more liberal than ours, so playing host to the biggest GOP gathering of the year feels slightly off-kilter. I wasn't going to blog about it at all, partly because it has nothing to do with music, but mostly because my mother taught me that if I didn't have anything nice to say, etc. etc.

Two things changed my mind. First off, I got stopped on the street in downtown Minneapolis today by a bearded guy who was very enthusiastic about my work. At first, I assumed he was a fan of the orchestra (I'm continually amazed by how many people in Minnesota can pick individual members of the orchestra out of a crowd,) but when he started asking me questions about Keith Olbermann, I stopped him, and gently asked, "Sorry, but who do you think I am?"


As it turns out, I apparently look a lot like NBC News Political Director Chuck Todd, who has been getting a fair amount of national airtime in recent weeks. If only Sarah looked like Chris Matthews, we might be able to arrange to get Inside the Classics some exposure on MSNBC... (Insert your own joke about fewer people watching MSNBC than attending our concerts.)

Secondly, it occurred to me that I actually do have something nice to say. Regardless of what you may think of the current administration and its approach to governance, I've always been quite taken with the fact that we have a Secretary of State who can play piano at something approaching a professional level.


Dvorak Piano Quintet, split in two for some reason

Condoleezza Rice is actually something of an amazing woman on a lot of levels (if you're interested in a fascinating, completely nonpartisan look at her and the rest of the Bush brain trust, check out James Mann's excellent book, Rise of the Vulcans,) but it's the piano playing that really gives me pause. Not that she plays, you understand - I know a lot of adults who still play music for fun - but that she plays awfully well. She plays like a woman who still puts in a couple of hours practice on a daily basis, and I can't imagine where she ever finds the time.


...part two.

So there: an RNC blog post that didn't mention Sarah Palin's daughter, John McCain's age, or the protesters who decided that the proper way to show their displeasure with the GOP was to smash the front window of Macy's. Do I win a prize?

The surest form of flattery

All right, folks, I'm back, somewhat refreshed from vacation. (Although I always end up a bit stressed when I'm ostensibly relaxing, because I'm acutely aware of the work that's accumulating while I'm away - which was magnified a bit by extra concerts and guest conducting weeks that were added to my fall schedule very late in the summer...)

So, an interesting bit of news, as the Olympics were winding down in Beijing. I remember Breiner's arrangements from the Athens Games as well as the controversy surrounding his setting of the national anthem of the USA. I didn't mind the lack of bombast so much, although I confess I was a little confused by the serenity of the "rocket's red glare/bombs bursting in air" bit - I don't know if I exactly buy the notion of introspection at this point, although the harmonic progressions are a nice diversion. Here's a link to the "Breiner original" (press "play" to download the audio file - sorry for the awkward presentation...)

And for comparison, here's a link to the women's 4x400 medal ceremony from Beijing (it begins around 5:17 in the video - again, sorry for the inelegant linking, I could only find this on the NBC website). The crux of the controversy are the remarkable similarities in the Breiner (Athens) version and the arrangements played in Beijing, purportedly arranged by a Chinese composer specifically for the Beijing Games.

Breiner's version is not a conventional setting. In fact, I would say it's striking. I cannot fathom how a version so similar, both in unusual orchestration and altered harmonies, could have been written without prior knowledge of the original Breiner arrangements. The only question in my mind is, was this unconscious imitation or something a bit more nefarious?

And a final bit of music new from China.

"Sing song diplomacy"

Driving in from the airport this afternoon I heard an NPR segment about Hillary Clinton’s latest slam on Barack Obama’s foreign policy position. Discussing Obama’s professed desire to “pencil in” meetings with leaders of Iran and North Korea without first establishing substantial diplomatic contact, she stated: "We simply cannot legitimize rogue regimes or weaken American prestige by impulsively agreeing to presidential talks that have no preconditions. It may sound good, but it doesn't meet the real world test of foreign policy."

This of course immediately reminded me of another bit of newsworthy détente, namely the New York Philharmonic and their current landmark journey to North Korea (the Philharmonic arrived in Pyongyang yesterday).

The title of my post is a moniker that has recently been attached to the Philharmonic’s North Korean effort – it references another bit of historical international relations, when US ping-pong players were the first officially invited Americans to set foot in Communist China for two decades when they toured the country in 1971 – “ping pong diplomacy”.

But here I find the comparison distorted; when the American athletes entered China they were doing so as participants in a common interest, a sport played in both countries. North Korea has little history of Western art music and no serious classical music culture – and certainly what little classical music there is would be unattainable to ordinary citizens. Its official symphony, the North Korea State Symphony Orchestra, is know mostly to perform music of the patriotic ilk - like Bumper Harvest Comes to Cheongsam Plain, as well as works by (officially, at least) the Dear Leader, Kim Jong-il. Music in North Korea, it seems, is not so much art as State propaganda. How does this color the view of the average North Korean citizen towards the Philharmonic’s musical presentation?

Experts on North Korea worry that Pyongyang will seize on the concert as a double public relations victory; on one hand presenting to the world at large that it is a hugely misunderstood country hoping to connect with the rest of the world, and on the other hand leading the domestic audience to believe that the US is allowing such a concert because it supports the Kim regime.

And speaking of the average North Korean citizen, how will they at all benefit from this musical outreach? Certainly none of them will be in attendance at the concert – only the political and military elite will most likely be at the performance. And as for the broadcast on North Korean TV, one must note that there are very few households with a television. Those few who do see the telecast might well think that the Philharmonic (and therefore the US) was expressing approval of the tyrannical regime that rules them. And, anyway, radios and TV sets in North Korea are pre-tuned to government stations that pump out a steady stream of propaganda, leading the country to be labeled the world's worst violator of press freedom by the media rights body Reporters Without Frontiers.

Now, I know there is the “music as borderless ambassador” and “life-changing power of art” gambit; I’m not so cynical as to discount those ideals. Stanley Drucker, the Philharmonic’s principal clarinetist, told reporters yesterday that “…it's important to reach people through something other than politics. What we do is universal. Music is pure in itself; it's what you make out of what you hear." And really, in my heart of hearts, I do believe the truth in the statement. But just as an individual can make of music what they hear, a totalitarian State can frame the same music in a way to serve their own propagandistic purposes. And there is no purity in that. By agreeing to perform under the terms provided by the Kim regime, the Philharmonic seems simply to be playing into the hands of their North Korean hosts.

Today’s coverage from the 80-some-odd reporters following the musicians paints a rather bleak portrait of life in Pyongyang; grey skies, battered housing, few cars, bare walls where anti-American propaganda has been recently torn down. Various international watchdog groups put the percentage of (literally) starving North Koreans at around 7%, and the chronically malnourished at around 37% - and yet, the Philharmonic and its entourage were treated to a multiple-course feast which included a full meal of traditional Korean food followed by another meal of Western delicacies, including sliced pheasant and pepper-crusted salmon. Am I the only one who feels queasy at this, that finds that it reeks of the kind of elitism that undermines the diplomatic underpinnings of artistic ideals?

Philharmonic Music Director Lorin Maazel tells reporters, "I am a musician and not a politician. Music has always traditionally been an arena, an area where people make contact. It's neutral, it's entertainment, it's person-to-person.” Music…neutral? Art…apolitical? Rostropovich is turning in his grave. I’m reminded of Leonard Bernstein’s historic 1959 concert at the Tchaikovksy Conservatory in Moscow with – you guessed it – the New York Philharmonic, and the inclusion in that performance of Shostakovich’s 5th Symphony. And Shostakovich himself, whose career suffered greatly under Stalin’s regime, was in the audience...

And finally, the Philharmonic’s North Korean stint got under way after Maazel offered this doozy: "People who live in glass houses shouldn't throw bricks, should they? Is [America's] standing as a country . . . is our reputation all that clean when it comes to the way [prisoners] are treated? Have we set an example that should be emulated all over the world? If we can answer that question honestly, I think we can then stop being judgmental about the errors made by others." Let's think about this; granted, no country is utterly innocent – I’m not trying to downplay the terrible "errors" of Gitmo or Abu Graib or waterboarding. But in comparison to below…?

“There is no organized political opposition in North Korea. The norm for actual or perceived “political crimes” is collective punishment of entire families, including young children. Offenses related to the personality cults of Kim Jung Il and his late father and predecessor Kim Il Sung are subject to particularly cruel punishment. There are no independent nongovernmental organizations of any kind…All media are either run or controlled by the state, and all publications are subject to official censorship…During the food crisis in the 1990s, North Korea began executing people accused of crimes related to economic difficulties, such as stealing grain from agricultural cooperatives. Numerous eyewitness accounts by North Korean escapees have detailed how executions are carried out publicly, often at crowded marketplaces, and in the presence of children.”

From the Human Rights Watch website.

And this does not even begin to touch on the issue of continued refusal to meet deadlines for the disclosure of nuclear programs…

As a musician I truly believe in the universality of music, in its power to touch others, its ability to foster connection and communication and greater understanding, and all the idealism that is an integral part of being an artist. But one cannot discount the possibility of artists becoming unwitting pawns in a larger political game because of those very same ideals. Good intentions are just that; responsibility is intrinsic to art. Without taking a stand on artistic (and thus personal) freedom, the New York Philharmonic's concert becomes nothing but melodious propaganda trotted out by a totalitarian regime.


ADDENDUM

By all accounts the concert was a success, starting with the national anthems of both countries and ending with a rendition of "Arirang", a traditional Korean song, that left much of the audience and some of the orchestra in tears. It would be nice to think that this wonderful moment of connection between individuals will bring about a larger change, and I certainly would not discount the possibility. And I have to say, there's something wonderful about seeing news about an orchestra plastered across the front page of national media. But again, who's to say that the North Korean government isn't using international focus on this human interest story to distract from their continued nuclear non-compliance, for instance? I would be very happy to have my suspicious be proved wrong, but in the meantime I maintain my cynicism.

Fund-amental II

A brief addendum to my post of two days ago - with politics in the air, government funding of the arts seems to be the topic du jour everywhere, including this recent NewMusicBox post.

Fund-amental

Super Tuesday was pretty exciting, as caucusing and primaries go - I listened to results rolling in all night as I drove from Fargo to Minneapolis - and it seems to have put us all in a heightened political state (level orange, perhaps?). An interesting post from February 5 by Soho the Dog (one of my bookmarks), of which I've excerpted a paragraph here:

"When the government funds arts that wouldn't gain sufficient traction in the free market for survival, those making this argument see it as somehow cheating, bending the rules, gaming the system. What they can never let themselves admit is that the rules of free-market capitalism are bent all the time—if they weren't, capitalism and any society based on it would collapse. When the Federal Reserve tinkers with interest rates and the money supply to ensure that the markets don't slip into runaway monopolistic inflation or an insurmountable depression, it's gaming the system. When Congress engineers tax credits and deductions to encourage corporate behavior that the market would otherwise unduly punish, it's gaming the system. Medicare? Unemployment benefits? Face it—it's government spending that keeps the economically disaffected from turning into revolutionaries. Any free-market capitalist system requires perpetual benevolent interference to protect it against its own potential for economic and political damage.

In receiving and expecting state support, the arts aren't playing outside the rules, they're playing by the exact same rules everybody else does."

And, in the spirit of impartiality, the opposite argument here.

In Soho the Dog's corner, we have, quite unsurprisingly, Dana Gioia, Chairman of the National Endowment for the Arts, who has "propelled the National Endowment for the Arts to its biggest budget boost in nearly three decades, a $20.3 million increase to $144.7 million for fiscal 2008, which ends Sept. 30" according to this recent Wall Street Journal article.

In the opposite corner, we have, quite unsurprisingly, the Bush administration, who has "called for cuts at the National Endowment for the Arts... the administration proposed a cut of $16.3 million — to $128.4 million from $144.7 million", according to today's New York Times.

Those of us in the business, meanwhile, keep on fighting the good fight, doing what we do best - presenting great works of art to the broadest audiences possible.

A Super Tuesday Playlist

If you're the type who likes to coordinate music to your daily activities, here are a few ideas for music to vote by, from composers looking to effect change (local, national, or global) while under political fire of one kind or another. These are just off the top of my head - if you've got others to add, fire away in the comments...

1. Shostakovich, Symphony No. 7, Leningrad. Celebrating the glorious Communist victory over Nazi aggression! (Or was he?)

2. Sibelius, Finlandia. Freeing a nation from Russian oppression, and singing lustily about it.

3. Haydn, Symphony No. 45, Farewell. Fighting subtly for more vacation days.

4. Beethoven, Symphony No. 3, Eroica. Celebrating a great leader who turned out not to be so great after all...

5. Britten, War Requiem. A conscientious objector taking a hard stand against all military aggression, even the kind meant to protect him.

"Hope for America"

That's the title of the song written specifically about Republican presidential candidate Ron Paul by a supporter and musician named Steve Dorr. Yes, dear friends, it's primary season, and I've been glued to CNN on many a night, awaiting caucus results with absolute fascination. No, I have to confess, my interest is not purely political (although there is a LOT of interest going on there...) - rather, I wait with baited breath to hear what music the candidates play at their rallies and concession speeches.

A quick glance at Hillary Clinton's list shows quite a variety, running the gamut from the Police's "Every little thing she does is magic" to Dolly Parton's "Working 9 to 5" (I particularly like the line of pouring yourself a "cup of ambition"). Both Mitt Romney and Barack Obama have used Stevie Wonder's "Signed, sealed delivered", and several candidates play Bachman-Turner Overdrive's "Takin' care of business". Anyone in PR or marketing can tell you, music is crucial to the "sell", a subtle and subconscious way to get a message across, set a mood, project an image. In fact, quite a bit has been written about the effect of the candidates' musical choice - I particularly like University of California musicology professor Robert Fink's take on U2's "Beautiful day":

"The effect [of the U2 song] is uniformly reported to be exhilarating, and you can see how a song that relies for its feeling on the simultaneous sensation of fast-forward motion and slowly changing harmonic scenery -- old and new at the same time, moving very fast, yet feeling safe and secure -- would appeal to candidates trying to appear both energetic forces for change and reassuring figures of stability."

(For a pretty comprehensive list of tunes, check out the tail end of this article).

For me the most memorable campaign tune is Fleetwood Mac's "Don't stop (thinking about tomorrow)", which became the anthem for Clinton/Gore in 1992 - a song so identified with the campaign that President Clinton persuaded the then-disbanded group to reform to perform it for his inaugural ball in 1993. (I confess a lot of the memorable-ness has to do with the fact that it was the first election I ever participated in...)

Which all makes me think, if we could have a song (or any piece of music, really) start playing the minute we walked into a room, what would it be?

Mine? Cheryl Lynn's "Got to be real".

We Gotcher Mass Appeal Right Here...

The suddenly ubiquitous Alex Ross calls our attention to a surprising new poll of the political leanings and entertainment preferences of American adults showing that 62% like and listen to classical music. In fact, classical edged out rock as the most popular genre! Interestingly, fans of classical music seem to cross all political boundaries, which fans of many other genres do not.

I won't pretend to know what this means, or even whether the study is broad enough to be considered a reliable gauge of American musical taste. Ross points out, quite correctly, that telling a pollster that you like a genre is quite different from actually going out and buying a concert ticket or downloading the latest eighth blackbird album. Still, a study like this does serve as one more nail in the coffin of the increasingly laughable idea that classical music is a dying art.