The encore Saturday night was a transcription of Mozart’s Adagio for Glass Harmonica, K. 617a. The instrument, or at least one version of it, was invented by Benjamin Franklin.

Schubert called it Allegretto.

I was also at the William Tell performance, and both Mariinsky performances. I heard the same acoustic artifacts described above, but I can assure you they’re not vocalizations from anyone (especially not the conductor!) The acoustics in Hill Auditorium are so great that you can hear every little thing. It could have been any one of the instruments, or even a panel on the wall that resonates with certain frequencies. I was also trying to figure out what it was, and I’m an audio engineer.

Nobody goes to a symphony to hear the conductor hum along with the piece, and these are very distinguished artists we’re dealing with, so they know better than to detract from their own show by humming (and if it was humming, that person sure can’t follow a tune!) It must be embarrassing for them that anyone even thinks that’s what it was. I really hope it’s not a problem with the Hill auditorium, but in fact I’ve heard it in several performances now (on Sunday it was the worst I’ve ever heard), so I’m starting to think it is.

I was also at the William Tell performance, and both Mariinsky performances. I heard the same acoustic artifacts described above, but I can assure you they’re not vocalizations from anyone (especially not the conductor!) The acoustics in Hill Auditorium are so great that you can hear every little thing. It could have been any one of the instruments, or even a panel on the wall that resonates with certain frequencies. I was also trying to figure out what it was, and I’m an audio engineer.

Nobody goes to a symphony to hear the conductor hum along with the piece, and these are very distinguished artists we’re dealing with, so they know better than to detract from their own show by humming (and if it was humming, that person sure can’t follow a tune!) It must be embarrassing for them that anyone even thinks that’s what it was. I really hope it’s not a problem with the Hill auditorium, but in fact I’ve heard it in several performances now (on Sunday it was the worst I’ve ever heard), so I’m starting to think it is.

Ken and Michael,

Just a short note of thanks to you both for this wonderful weekend of Russian classical music. It had special meaning for me, especially during yesterday afternoon’s program. I have heard “Pictures” many times, but yesterday it triggered one of those flash backs that I suppose is associated with being 72 years old and beginning to savor reflections about what has been so valuable in my life so far. So the flash back was to the very first classical music I heard, as a 7 or 8-year-old kid. It was an early 1950s Radio Moscow broadcast, over short wave radio band, on a war surplus radio my father purchased–something like he’d monitored as communications officer on a Merchant Marine ship plying the Atlantic for most of my first 7 years. We’d set the radio up (to receive only) in my bedroom where we’d taped a National Geographic map of the world on the wall. I pasted gold stars on places where I picked up transmissions (other than in the US), and the first gold star was atop Moscow. Wearing my father’s naval earphones, each night after homework I listened to Russian classical music, probably beamed toward North America as part of the Cold War just as Radio Free Europe did in return, with fascination. It was not to my father’s taste so we had no classical recordings and my grade school had no musical education in the first grades. And so yesterday I remembered that late each night, before the triumphant sounds of Tchaikovsky or the forceful romanticism of Moussorgsky went sent silent, I listened in awe to the muscular voices of the Chorus of the Soviet Red Army and finally to their rendering of the Russian national anthem. Turns out that Radio Canada (stars on Ottawa, Toronto and Montreal) also broadcast classical music–French, German, English and US composers–probably not by chance on a band close to Radio Moscow’s I think. So I learned the words to O Canada; never did master the Russian, but it was the language of Russian music that first stirred what was to become a lifelong musical passion.

Thanks again. David

Hi everyone! Here is the full music list:

Rinaldo, Lascia ch’io pianga – Händel
Gelido In Ogni Vena – Vivaldi
Cançao – Carlos Paredes
Valse sentimentale – Tchaikovsky
Les feuilles mortes – Cosma et Prévert
Nothing compares to you – Jimmy Scott
Wait the Lover – Wu Yingyin
Fratres – Arvo Part
No more words – Anna Calvi
Works for prepared piano – John cage

This took me completely by surprise. I knew about the “nano-dancing” thing beforehand, but that particular aspect was merely the tip of the iceberg. Charleroi Danses somehow managed to combine dance, music, stagecraft, poetry, art, and even a little puppetry into something new and beautiful–a total work of art.
As a side note–does anybody have a playlist of the songs they used for the performance? I’d love to know the name of the aria that was heard throughout the show, and especially the name of the singer who sang that terrific cover of “Nothing Compares 2 U.”

This took me completely by surprise. I knew about the “nano-dancing” thing beforehand, but that particular aspect was merely the tip of the iceberg. Charleroi Danses somehow managed to combine dance, music, stagecraft, poetry, art, and even a little puppetry into something new and beautiful–a total work of art.
As a side note–does anybody have a playlist of the songs they used for the performance? I’d love to know the name of the aria that was heard throughout the show, and especially the name of the singer who sang that terrific cover of “Nothing Compares 2 U.”

Agreed. The Beethoven was my least favorite, although I grant that that’s not my favorite Beethoven quartet. I really liked the encore and wished they had played a Haydn quartet instead of the Beethoven.

Absolutely fantastic, there are no other words for performance. Not only is she a beautiful young woman but the voice was astonishing. But she was only one of many outstanding artists you’ve had this year. I loved “The Suit” especially having seen the film at the Michigan Theater that starred Peter Brooks. The evening we went it was crowded, but a friend of mine went on Thursday and said it was very empty and she suspected you were giving away tickets. I don’t believe that and enjoyed every bit of it.

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Thanks Michael, for your comment and sharing the program link !
I am glad that you had this rare opportunity to attend a live concert. I wasn’t in the audience in 1989, but I attended some of his concerts in Europe. There are just a few DVDs with Celibidache’s rehearsals, but viewing these is so inspiring….

Did you hear Celabidache and Munich then live in Hill in April 1988 performing Bruckner? One of my favorite concerts of all time.

When it comes about Bruckner, Sergiu Celibidache and Munchen Philharmonic Orchestra interpretation remain legendary, and second to none. Bruckner complex symphonies, have a philosophical key, that need a deep understanding of musical phenomenology, in order to convey emotion to audience. It was not the case in tonight’s performance.

When it comes about Bruckner, Sergiu Celibidache and Munchen Philharmonic Orchestra interpretation remain legendary, and second to none. Bruckner complex symphonies, have a philosophical key, that need a deep understanding of musical phenomenology, in order to convey emotion to audience. It was not the case in tonight’s performance.

An aspect of The Suit that stuck out to me was the stage and how it was decorated. There were very few props on the stage, but each prop was striking and valuable. The chairs were all prime colors. Originally I thought the colors of the chairs in certain formations were random, but after reading Fuch’s article, I wonder if the colors were deliberate. Throughout the play the props took on many new forms and served many different uses, although the basic layout of the stage stayed intact. This also perplexed me. It seemed the entire back side of the stage was hardly utilized during the play, despite the presence of a few props. Only once did I notice a performer occupy the back side of the stage. I think this had the effect of making the performers seem less prominent and smaller, but also more alive and exciting. It gave the audience a greater perspective on the performers’ world.

Do not allow late guests to disrupt performances. Absolutely absurd that guests were seated on the main floor during Tristan and Isolde. Yes, I said DURING. I am unlikely to attend another performance until this policy is changed. Unbelievable!

I appreciated Colin’s technical prowess and creativity; however, I think the nature of his use of the instruments should be more directly indicated in any descriptions of his performance if he returns to UMS.

C Ramsay

This was my first symphony concert, and it was absolutely magnificent. I’m so grateful that UMS has the ability to bring these kinds of performances to town on a weekly basis! I wrote a very long review of the whole show on the Arts at Michigan blog–in case anyone is interested in reading it, here’s a link: http://arts.umich.edu/seen/2013/11/18/review-mahlers-ninth-symphony/

I love that last thought…”Whenever 2 or 3 people gather together….making the world a better place”. Who is the original author of that thought?

Thank you so much Jeanette, for sharing your spoken words! I will be sure to give you credit for them if I use them in a future concert. Someday (not soon!) I plan to attempt to give a Brandenburg concert like you did last Sunday. We will not even approach your virtuosity, but we’ll have a great time preparing for it! Thanks for all the inspiration!

French speakers: the mad man clutching his loins while galloping around the “office” environment. What was he saying? Inquiring minds need to know!

There was charm in this concert: a group of young musicians, making their way in a difficult field, played the five concerti in a refreshing, brisk manner — not always with much character. But then the role of character is a matter of debate in performance circles: how should Bach really be played? Minds are divided on this. The Apollos played the slow movements lyrically and the wing movements fashionably over-fast. Which means that you will hear some runs slurred and uneven. The short sweet talks by the leader were also charming – a model for other conductors. Audiences seem to like this sort of connection with the stage.

But, yes, I admit it: my attention began to flag about 10 minutes into the second half of the program. And I can’t believe that many others managed to stay the course, mind and ears sharp all the way.

Why schedule works exclusively in one format, written by one composer in one style as the only fare for a whole afternoon’s concert by such talented players? As programs go, this is a bit of a stunt. I can see why a group of musicians might want to tour with such a program and sell its CD at the same time. But will such homogenized programs – such stunts — keep old audiences loyal and new ones interested? Honk if you prefer diversity.

I need a stiff drink to overcome the trauma this performance was. Either do ballet or go get into athletics. Abstract need not be so boring, waste of a Friday night.

I have to say I was a bit disappointed. The visual was compelling, but the music was lacking for me. The voices sounded all the same. It was a bit redundant. There was not enough variety, and it could have really used some women’s voices.

.Would you kindly confirm or not that the reason Mr. Schiff threw up his arms at the continuing applause of the audience well after both his hands were still: on the last overtones of the last notes indicatng a) the end of ALL the Goldberg Variations, and b) NOT a sign of resignation (or a mild or good humored gesture of exasperation ) indicating that c) the audience was over-anticipating the end of his piano playing ( d] hoping, i.e., to hear no more of that unfinished cycle Mr. Schiff may therefore have been preparing to climax — by his sustained hold on the keys of JSB’s [or even AS’s own] penultimate variation/improvisation)?

In short: was, or was not, the unexcelled Andras Schiff, with express understanding, letting the UMS audience, and not his own mastery (of the program before Intermission) determine the end of the first half of their (AS’s and the UMS’ uncertain audience’s) prematurely clapped at concert?

I had promised myself not to write any reviews this year. But that was before last night’s concert.
Andras Schiff is a breathtaking virtuoso, a man of prodigious energy – who else would follow last evening’s scheduled works with opus 111?! — and of capacious memory. I hear he is touring with the English suites along with what we heard last night. You get the sense that, if you woke him up at 2:30 in the morning, he could launch himself into any Beethoven sonata or Bach keyboard work without hesitation or dropping a note. He is also a seeker!
A great artist will occasionally offer a new insight into a well-known work. This can make the concert memorable. The performer has remained true to the tradition of its past realizations, has not left the context of its place in the history of music and yet opened — or rather proposed — a new perspective on it that may stand the test of repetition. One is grateful for such events; there are not many in a lifetime.
But when every page is played in “innovative” ways, no matter how brilliantly and with what astonishing fireworks, when tempi are changed arbitrarily, rhythms pulled this way and that, articulations altered, notes and chords willfully accented, then one finds oneself not listening to a known work creatively reinterpreted, but rather wondering what the limits to such renewals might be. That, I’m sorry to say, was the case in both works last evening, especially in the Bach?
As someone said to me afterwards, the lighter variations shone with Mr. Schiff’s virtuosity, but one wanted “a bit more substance” in the slower and more contemplative variations. I agree; much of this steep, challenging work sounded more like Scarlatti sonatas dashed off by a brilliant, light-fingered magician.
The Diabelli theme waltz was played so fast that for a full realization one had to rely on one’s memory more than on one’s ear. Not to go on too long with this dirge of a review – maybe it’s too late for that already! — one of the variations sounded so strange and unfamiliar that speculation arose in my neighborhood of the hall as to whether this was Mr. Schiff’s own interpolation: “I’ve never heard THAT one before,” she said.

Thanks Michael! Although I must say UMS has spoiled me with majority of its way above the bar performances. They always brighten my typical graduate student weeks..

Certainly not one of the nicer performances I have attended with UMS. Having an idea of what Chagall’s Windows is, I didn’t think the theme was well represented. Use of water is ok, didn’t quite mean much; neither did the stunt of suspending by rope convey much. What was that teenager-y view of eternal love again? I thought the music & choreography was terribly repetitive, stagnating my brain’s receptiveness. The woman sitting next to me said she fell asleep for the same reason. I could have watched free youtube videos of figure skating instead of paying for this performance. Sorry UMS, I avoid writing negative reviews, thinking its okay if a performance did not appeal to my individual esthetic/intellectual taste but this one tested my patience. In all, the essence of the so called theme was not brought out even 10%. Will not recommend this one. Thank you.

We attended the Friday evening performance. My less than acute vision precluded reading the supratitles, but gave me an unexpected advantage. Following the curtain call, I asked my daughter “Where was the little girl who played the young Shun-kin? She was just terrific with the temper tantrums and manipulation.” My daughters answer (with disbelief) floored me! :MOTHER! She was a puppet!”

Let’s not try that one out. Don’t misunderstand, loved her!

Hi Micahel,

First of all, please don’t think that I absolutely hate UMS — but I don’t think you got that vibe for me in the first place. I was just a little annoyed that the last production I saw through UMS was such a dud, especially since you guys put on such quality performances. The classical music ensembles you choose are especially high quality and comparable to the kind of groups that play at Carnegie Hall (in fact, your seasons usually overlap quite a bit.) While I don’t have a “favorite” memory, I can say that I’ve been satisfied with 95% of the concerts I’ve seen — especially the orchestral concerts.

And I do indeed have a response to JW. Speaking of ad hominem attacks, his/her comment has a blaring one — namely that I and some of the other commenters are unfamiliar with Greek tragedy. While I’m not a School of Theatre student here at U-M (which seems to be a prerequisite for JW in terms of fully comprehending Greek tragedy) I am a big fan of the plays of Euripides and Sophocles. But what I think JW fails to realize is that this wasn’t a pure example of Greek drama — it was obviously labeled an adaptation. If this were Greek theater, there would have been two choruses, as in the original Euripides play. There would have been more time allotted to choral odes, strophes, and antistrophes, which were mostly cut from this production. This production was trying to inject modern conceptions of theater into Greek drama, making it more “accessible” or “up-to-date.” But by doing so, the magic, mystery, and ritual of Greek theatre were lost. It was not, as JW suggests, trying to be faithful to Greek theater. If it had, I probably would have enjoyed it much more.

But I think JW misunderstands what I was initially criticizing. It was not the genre of the production I was criticizing, but rather the awful performances. While he claims that the actors were “declaiming,” I would argue that they were doing nothing of the sort. Most of them — especially the male performers— were merely reading off lines with some expression. This wasn’t a matter of me “demonstrating my ignorance,” as JW said. I have no problem with out-of-the-ordinary or stylized productions; in fact, Robert Wilson is one of my favorite directors. The root of the problem was the bad performance, i.e. the poor execution of an already shaky concept. Regardless of “provincialism” or “ignorance,” anyone would have seen that many of the performers were sub-par and badly cast.

-Joe

This was a very interesting adaptation. I loved the movement, lighting, and set. the problem for me came with some of the performances.
The actresses who played Hecuba and Andromache were excellent. The actors were good as well. The actresses who played Kassandra and Helen…oh well, those two needed more work.

I love this exchange on the Lobby today, love the fact that theater—live theater—can provoke such thought and passion, both pro and con. Isn’t that why we go? We could have all stayed home and enjoyed the balmy evening and kicked back in front of our TVs and saved the ticket money, but for whatever reasons we didn’t. Do I always like what UMS offers? Do I always feel I’ve gotten my money’s worth? (How do you even calculate that?) Of course not. But thank god they’re not serving up predictable fare. That’s when I’d stay home.
Was Trojan Women uneven? Sure. Did Jocelyn Clarke take questionable liberties with Euripides’ text? You bet. (Though it was interesting to hear Anne Bogart say today that one reason the company dispensed with a chorus was “we couldn’t afford it.” Ditto Athena, who in the original script engages in a long dialogue with Poseidon, but in this production doesn’t even show up. “We couldn’t afford two gods,” Bogart quipped.)
Did this production make me think twice about the play, make me reflect on its meaning and on my own preconceptions? Absolutely. I didn’t love all of it. I didn’t always get why the actors were hanging around instead of vanishing the way they do in Euripides’ text. (Bogart explained today she wanted an ensemble piece, Chekovian in nature, rather than a sequence of two-part dialogues. She wanted the women to serve as their own chorus.) I came home from the production and thumbed through my copy of The Trojan Woman looking for some reference to a hermaphrodite. Didn’t find it. Didn’t quite get what was up.
But were there moments onstage last night that ripped through me? Yes, yes, and yes. Andromache’s gorgeous, patiently rendered evocation of her love for her husband. The exquisite narrative in which the (single male) Chorus came downstage and with dancelike motions described the invasion of Troy by the horse-hidden Greeks. Hecuba’s howls. Hecuba’s one-liners. The riveting moment when Helen at last walks offstage and shadows first slice off her head and then cast her utterly in darkness while Cassandra plays in the light just beyond her. The way the viola came and went, shaping the action, hauling voices with it.
Theater exists in the moment. Euripides’ text will outlast this production. Another director will have her way with it. There’ll be more Helens—let’s hope another 2,500 years of them.
This afternoon, Bogart talked about the relationship between performers and audiences. She said a cast doesn’t “speak to just one kind of person. You speak to different parts of each person.” So this Trojan Women may not have clicked with some theatergoers. But it’s got us talking to one another. It’s got us going back to our copies of the play and thinking again about the issues Euripides addresses. It’s got me, at least, thinking not about the price of tickets but about the price of war, and about human nature, and about men and women, and about our drive to tell one another stories by acting them out in front of each other. May that process continue.

Well, I’m afraid that Joe and Iris are right on all counts. It gives pause that two other viewers were so moved, and I did see others in the audience experiencing the same inspiration, which is heartening. It is an absolutely dreadful translation and adaptation all around, and the performance was full of broad, melodramatic hyperpathos that came off nearly as caricature almost all the time. Ironically, the most genuine performance was that of the completely over-the-top Cassandra.

What an awful production. I almost left 20 minutes into the show, but I stayed 20 minutes longer just to see if it got better. It didn’t.

I just couldn’t stand to bear another minute of those amateurish performances. The eunuch priest made me grimace every time he tried to “act.” (In addition, this ridiculous character isn’t even in the original Euripides tragedy. It’s called “Trojan Women” for a reason — the characters who suffer are female, not eunuchs.) Even worse than this actor was the one who portrayed the envoy. It was like they plucked him from some community theater troupe.

The moment I left, however, was when the actress playing Andromache launched into a monologue about how much she missed Hector. The translation of Euripides coupled with her bad acting made the scene come across like something from a soap opera.

NEVER include this troupe in your seasons again, UMS. I’m a senior at Michigan, and this was my last UMS performance before I leave for grad school in another state. It’s an unfortunate way to end my experiences with your company.

Excellent! The best collaboration of live stage acting and scenic projection I have ever seen. I hope they and others continue to innovate in this mixed medium. I would love to see their Magic Flute in Berlin.

A most satisfying evening – maybe the climax of the chamber series. But since this was a year of other wonderful concerts and since chamber music is not a sport and this web site is not Consumer Reports, we don’t have to rate them all.

Haydn finds himself in a serious mood – at least in the first half of the work: beautiful and beautifully played soulful, meditative movements. And then he recovers his accustomed joie de vivre in the last two movements. A well-chosen start to a serious evening.

I can’t think of anything that is more likely to hold and develop audiences for concert music than talks from the stage by the musicians – these and not programming compromises (aka crossover bribes). Let’s stop pretending that everyone in the hall is an experienced listener. For quite a few, what they hear is a mass of more or less pleasant sound, a flattery or assault to the senses. If music directors around the world want these listeners to find the experience rewarding, they must give them a little help – a bit of structure to hang their attention on. Mr. Dusinberre did just that and I’m sure has the gratitude of many. He told us enough background and provided us with a plausible narrative. Not that this is program music. And when you listen to the work, it becomes clear that even this narrative is useful only as a metaphor for a certain experience – perhaps that of a man near death who attends — not to the tumult of Venice, but rather of life itself as he – and we all of a certain age — march with uncertain courage toward its end. A most moving composition.

I don’t know that an impresario can write such talks from the stage into the contracts. But if more musicians realized their fruitfulness, as for example Tilson-Thomas of the SF Symphony does – maybe they would gradually become more nearly de rigueur.

Op. 131 was Beethoven’s favorite. I know some musicians who feel the same way about it. It’s endlessly complicated, of course. I imagine it’s just the thing that cruel 19th century professors of music theory put on the final exam (“Parse THAT, you fools!!!”) The reason Beethoven wants the movements to be played end on end is that it has so many false starts and false endings, so many repeats and quasi-repeats, such structural complexity that separating the movements would give listeners a misleading impression of conventionality. Beethoven was too ornery a fellow to permit THAT!

What a wonderful group the Takacs is! They dedicated their playing to the works and the composers, not to themselves. They dwelled in the works.

Till next time — thanks!

Though it was announced from the stage, I wanted to confirm that the quartet’s encore was the “Presto Magico” movement (iii) from Alberto Ginestera’s String Quartet No. 2, Op. 26.

Just one small request: could UMS please avoid scheduling two major events for the week in which the Ann Arbor Public Schools take their midwinter break, which takes some subscribers out of town? I am surely not the only one disappointed to have had to miss both concerts.

I really enjoyed the NY Phil performance on Saturday evening. I especially enjoyed the opening piece because the Marriage of Figaro Overture was something I played on the stage of Hill Auditorium 35 years ago as a clarinet player in my junior high school symphonic band for the Midwestern Conference. The piece was just as I remembered it — or almost just as I remembered it!

Our conductor had an album made of our performances that year and the album jacket has a picture of us performing on stage at Hill Auditorium with notes that read “it was a great honor to perform in this beautiful auditorium” and “we will remember this experience for a lifetime.” I think that was my very first visit to UM and I still remember the experience vividly — from entering Hill Auditorium on a cold Saturday early morning in January 1978 through the back door into the cramped backstage area and then walking through the stage door onto the big stage, where everyone immediately looked up and around at the organ pipes and the high ceiling and then out toward the seats and the two balconies. Our conductor had to loudly tap his baton on his stand and remind us to sit and focus.

I feel fortunate to be able to add special new Hill Auditorium experiences every year — thanks in large part to UMS.

Thank goodness I left before the Phil played “The Victors!” There are few things I find more embarrassing than having to hear this from world class performers who I know are pandering to the provincial pride of Ann Arborites. Not to mention having to take this trivial “song” away from a concert that played Brahms’ First so movingly and spectacularly (as many attested). Surely I’m not the only person living here who finds this practise distasteful and embarrassing. Speak up if you’re with me! I’m sure many won’t be. I’m amazed that the NY Phil felt it had to do this.

Not being versed in the language of music, I find it hard to express my view of Sunday’s performance in the right words: in plain words, I found it a bit boring. While technically brilliant, I thought the performance lacked enthusiasm and heartfelt emotion. The lackluster final applause from folks around me (in the the upper balcony) told me that I was not alone in feeling underwhelmed. The other day, I attended the AAPS middle and high school concert event at Hill. Pioneer High School, under tutelage from an enthusiastic New York guest conductor, vowed us with a riveting performance of parts of Beethoven’s 5th. Not quite flawless, of course, but intense and exciting. In comparison, the NY Philharmonics sounded like smoothly-programmed robots.

I loved the whole concert, but the Brahms especially. The orchestra (and indeed the whole organization, speaking from the several talks I attended over the weekend by archivist Barbara Haws and Exec. Dir. Matthew VanBesien) seems to be firing on all cylinders. The repertoire was canonic, but the performance was anything but ordinary. Philip Myers (principal horn) soared, and the wind section as a whole was in sync with oboe and flute standing out in particular. Gilbert and the orchestra as a whole, seemed to me, to offer an exceptional balance of conveying both the musical structure and design of Brahms’s score, while bringing their individuality of shape, gesture, and rubato to bring the text alive.

Sorry for the lateness in getting this posted…
The encore was the third movement from a Suite for Wind Quintet and Piano entitled “L’heure du berger”. This third movement is called Les Petits Nerveux.

Three days out and the performance of the NCCO still resonates in my mind. I was most impressed with the Bolcom composition.
Playful and interesting and somewhat challenging, I found myself
intrigued and delighted while listening to it. I’d like to hear it again! The performance of this piece was excellent! I enjoyed, too, the way the work used dynamics and NCCO proved adept at pulling this off.

I agree with the comment above that the Villa-Lobos was handled better here than with the original soprano. I wonder what Villa-Lobos himself would say? I especially like the cello solo toward the end of the piece.

I have to say, the Strauss didn’t do much for me. I felt the performance upstaged the composition if that can be. Indeed, I tended to focus my attention on the performance during that work and I admired the verve of the musicians who seemed like they we struggling to squeeze passion from what I feel is a brooding composition. Key changes and scant resolution are interesting but that seems merely academic to me. Not my cup of tea, I guess.

In sum, I was impressed by the fine precision of the group balanced off by great passion. Certainly memorable!

Interesting. I loved the Brahms. In my view, there is nothing pejorative about calling an interpretation “hammy” or “cheesy”…the must lends itself to that kind of interpretation. The Brahms was played beautifully…with a lot of theatricality which included a bit of hamminess — which I think is a compliment.. If anyone has seen a Hungarian dance a czardas…they will know that it is all about the theatricality. I thought the SF concerts last year were a real high water mark for orchestral concert going in Ann Arbor….i’m glad you agree. BTW — I know lots of extraordinarily adventurous 80-year-olds….and lots of 25-year-olds who are real sticks-in-the-mud.

I didn’t like the comment about the Brahms, since they played it exactly the way it’s meant to be played (at least by an orchestra) and heard. And I was put out by the comments last season about the incredible programs – which received much attention nationally – that the S.F. Symphony put on over four days. Ann Arbor is a world class town for music, musicians and music lovers (after all, we have Bolcom and Daugherty!) but as an ex-East Coaster I’m still dismayed at the conservative reactions of many of its listeners – though some of that can be attributed to advancing age.

Always astonishing to me how, in their comments, many Ann Arbor “classical” music lovers seem to prefer their music as if it were heard rom inside a loosely nailed coffin…..

Excellent ensemble playing! Metamorphosen is a marvelous ensemble piece of music. It has so many emotions and qualities packed into it – melancholy, sweetness, agony, and sensuousness. The NCCO played it well, i.e., brought out its thick textures and shiftless harmonies (what key does Strauss not visit?).

Bolcom never disappoints us – from that angular first movement down to the country-dance in the third. I wart to hear this again soon. Arguably the Villa-Lobos sounds better in this transcription than in the original with soprano. No one in the audience begrudged the players the hammed-up Brahms.

The Toccata and Fugue was Leopold Stokowski’s arrangement for orchestra of a Bach organ work. I suspect it was chosen as a cheeky contrast to the rest of the program. And I’d guess that the chorus stayed through that piece because they could leave less disruptively before the Barber, when the orchestra was doing some rearranging as well.

Glad you enjoyed it! So did I.

Two points: (1) After the sold-out Rackham Auditorium crowd thundered its applause for the second of the evening’s quartets, the group’s violist announced that they would now play their favorite slow movement from op. 135. (2) The entire concert was nearly totally cough-less.

There’s a connection: musicians do not usually caption their encore announcement (if they even make one; lots just dive right in) by drawing attention to their own preferences. I was not surprised to hear that these players have feelings about the works they play: it seemed to me that one only plays the way this group plays if one loves the music. How else can you draw an audience in as they did?! And when an audience has been so drawn in, it does not cough. Coughing has little to do with seasonal changes and viruses. Audiences cough when they are restless, inattentive, bored, or in over their heads and hearts, i.e., unprepared.

Corina Belcea is one hell of a violinist, and so are the other members on their instruments. The playing of these mostly episodic works – such a long way from Haydn’s models – call for contrasts in mood and quick shifts in dynamics. And this quartet was up to it, producing sounds on a scale from the soulful-ethereal to the muscular-incisive.

We’ll never hear the likes of that slow movement of op 127 again. And two people I spoke with admitted to the rise of tears to their eyes during the concert. It’s true that when you play soulful-ethereal passages, you take the risk of having some ends of phrases disappear into the mists of the ether. At that point those audience members who are familiar with the work are helped by their memories, which complement sheer sensation. But that’s not even a quibble after a concert like this one, yielding such rich satisfaction.

That’s easy, Michael. As the soloist or conductor takes the stand and bows, s/he turns to the audience and announces: “For every cough I hear, I/we will play five wrong loud notes, and, if you were the cougher, everybody will blame you for them .”

Hello Michael,
One small correction from one of the local players who were privileged to have been asked to join the Mariinsky onstage as an extra musician, in this case as bassoon and contrabassoon: the members of the orchestra who were already in town rehearsed the Strauss at 6 pm, not the Rite, and when Gergiev arrived, he also asked the orchestra to begin the Strauss. When one of the players told him they had already run through the work prior to his arrival, he replied, “Okay then, we won’t run the whole thing. We’ll begin in the second bar…”
So the rumor about NOT rehearsing the Rite of Spring is in fact correct, but only for the local players. The orchestra has obviously had a long and famous history with the work, so we extras simply had to jump on and enjoy the ride.
Thanks for bringing the Mariinsky!
Jeff Lyman

This is what a world class orchestra is all about. With nearly a third of the orchestra’s musicians delayed for several hours in Toronto (reportedly due to a mechanical issue with the aircraft), they landed in Detroit and were bussed directly to Hill Auditorium in Ann Arbor arriving an hour or so before their concert had been scheduled to begin. There was an absolute minimal amount of pre-concert rehearsal time.

Rumor has it some of the Mariinsky musicians who arrived on another flight earlier Saturday were able to partially rehearse under the direction of one of the orchestra’s student conductors.

Incredibly, rumor has it Stravinsky’s “Rite of Spring” was not rehearsed at all (due to lack of time) after the entire orchestra had arrived at Hill Auditorium. Remarkably then, what those of us in the audience were experiencing with the Stravinsky piece, may literally have been an unannounced, completely spontaneous interpretation and performance.

This is a situation where the experienced charismatic leadership of Maestro Valery Gergiev successfully combined with highly professional world class musicians. What potentially could have been a catastrophic performance situation instead became standing ovations for each composition performed.

I believe after their Ann Arbor concert the Mariinsky Orchestra was traveling to New York and New Jersey for several more events, having to contend with the possibility severe weather situation on the east coast could alter their schedule. At least for those of us in Ann Arbor it was mostly a good pre-Halloween musical treat at the University of Michigan.

I was pretty disappointed in the concert overall and found the Stravinsky to be sloppy and even boring — which is incredible to say as I would have thought this to be all but impossible. Maybe my expectations were too high, but from my seat at least the tempo seemed to drag and much of the playing was mediocre, although often powerful. I can’t believe I’m saying Gergiev was lethargic! Gergiev is more likely to take things impossibly fast — for example, the Scheherazade he performed at Pease Auditorium under UMS auspices a few years back which I found thrilling. It seemed like the musicians last night were blown out from the Strauss. Volume substituted for expression in the Rite and the overall shape made little sense to me. Was Ann Arbor the only place Mariinsky played The Rite on this tour? The use of extra local musicians seemed unusual, even if they were fine players, and makes me wonder if Gergiev tried to pull this performance out of his hat and the plane delay prevented a rehearsal. It sounded undercooked.

On the other hand, I agree with many here that the Shostakovich was a revelation and really special. It seemed to be played by a different set of musicians — precise, clean, nuanced as well as powerful. The trumpet playing was sheer brilliance and Matsuev brought a sublime poetry to the artistic chemistry of the ensemble all-but absent from the rest of the concert. This alone was worth the price of admission. Hope to hear Matsuev at Hill again soon… so great that he’s become a regular.

Agreed! I’m less worried these days about a cell phone going off – although that would be a nuisance — than about the uninhibited trumpet coughs from all sides. How’s about an announcement at the start, UMS, about manners in a concert hall?

The Chicago Symphony brought us a very attractive piece, written only last year by Mason Bates, its composer-in-residence. It was the high point of the evening. Its principal feature is the handling of rhythm. In large sections, it pulses along steadily (reminiscent of some of Boulez’ works) – mimicking a ticking machine or computer more than anything nature usually produces. The composer writes about junkyards, nuclear accelerators, and the devastation of Icelandic rain forests. I don’t really need this story although I share his anxiety; to my ears this is really abstract music and stands well by itself.

An orchestra shows its skill by keeping up the ping-pong of sounds this composition calls for: a player must come in on a certain sixteenth note at exactly the right instant and immediately pass on the musical baton to another instrument on the other side of the stage. The Chicago players can do that admirably. That the piece makes use of electronic means is a side issue. If you want to produce these sounds – mighty winds, mechanical sounds, and what I took to be some pretty uncouth and, therefore, all the more amusing digestive noises – electronics is what you need. I was ready to hear it all again as soon as it was over. I hope Aunt Agatha did not dislike it.

The Franck symphony is an old friend. I recall that a few decades ago hardly a week went by when you did not hear this piece on your classical music radio station. Now, it’s a rarity, and I know people who are music buffs but have never heard it. Franck, the famous organist, knew a thing or two about producing great sonorities, and he showed it when he moved that lovely English horn theme from the second movement into the third and escalated it to triumph. The band played the with subtlety.

As regards the Wagner overture, I would recommend to Mr. Muti that he stay away from German music. Last year I wrote that he made the second symphony of Brahms, a serene and bucolic work, sound like Haydn’s Military Symphony. This year he played the overture to The Flying Dutchman – a dark, grim drama, about a man condemned to sail the seven seas in eternity – sound like the excitement before going to a New Year’s Party. The passages that era supposed to sound ominous and glum sounded brash, bright, and brassy.

Brassy is the word. Ever since the Solti days the brass section plays uniformly fortississimo whenever it has anything to play. Not only is this hard on the ears, but it also leaves you no place to go: you can’t have a crescendo because you’ve already given it everything you got. A friend reminded me during the intermission that the CSO is famous for its fine brass section. True, but in my book they are also famous for being too loud – reliably so. But, of course, many listeners respond well to that. (I recall hearing that in the early days of jazz, people would applaud a well-played riff by shouting: “Yea, that was real loud!” when they meant “real good”.)

I don’t know, maybe this is appropriate to Chicago, which, in Carl Sandburg’s words is the “city of the big shoulders.”
But I would have preferred the overture to La Forza del Destine.

Amazing. Review here. http://wp.me/p4d9B-tv

I loved the dwarves, black queen, Chaplin-esque mirror schtick, and pas-de-deux. I thought the early full company work with female dancers was a bit weak, but I think he choreographs better for male dancers, very athletic… when he has the full company dancing, or just females, I would have preferred pointe, and I’m not a big fan of classical ballet. My wife, who used to go see the Bolshoi all the time when she lived in Moscow thought the female/company choreography was a bit forced and strange, but she was very happy from the point the black queen came out onwards.

Did anyone who saw the show Friday or Sunday hear a glitch in the audio during the full company dance while the kind and Snow were up on their thrones? I saw it Saturday and it bothered me, UMS is claiming that was intentional, but it only highlighted the fact that there wasn’t a live orchestra… I can maintain suspension of disbelief, forget that the venue doesn’t have a proper orchestra pit if the sound system is good enough, but when it is brought glaringly to my attention, it becomes harder for me to immerse myself in the performance. I could believe that the complete silence for a minute or two at the beginning of the pas-de-deux was intentional, if they did it every night… although the fact that they then repeated the performance when the sound came on made me suspicious that it was UMS failing to maintain their audio equipment or amateur student sound techs backstage.

The rag-doll bit was fun, reminds me of that dancer’s contact improv with his toddler. The tribute to Red Shoes at the end was cool, too.

I loved the dwarves, black queen, Chaplin-esque mirror schtick, and pas-de-deux. I thought the early full company work with female dancers was a bit weak, but I think he choreographs better for male dancers, very athletic… when he has the full company dancing, or just females, I would have preferred pointe, and I’m not a big fan of classical ballet. My wife, who used to go see the Bolshoi all the time when she lived in Moscow thought the female/company choreography was a bit forced and strange, but she was very happy from the point the black queen came out onwards.

Did anyone who saw the show Friday or Sunday hear a glitch in the audio during the full company dance while the kind and Snow were up on their thrones? I saw it Saturday and it bothered me, UMS is claiming that was intentional, but it only highlighted the fact that there wasn’t a live orchestra… I can maintain suspension of disbelief, forget that the venue doesn’t have a proper orchestra pit if the sound system is good enough, but when it is brought glaringly to my attention, it becomes harder for me to immerse myself in the performance. I could believe that the complete silence for a minute or two at the beginning of the pas-de-deux was intentional, if they did it every night… although the fact that they then repeated the performance when the sound came on made me suspicious that it was UMS failing to maintain their audio equipment or amateur student sound techs backstage.

The rag-doll bit was fun, reminds me of that dancer’s contact improv with his toddler. The tribute to Red Shoes at the end was cool, too.

Yes, there would be some very quiet sound still coming from electronic media. And Bates wanted the final cord of the chorus to be soft and linger. I was not there at this concert, but I did sing in the chorus during its world premier in San Francisco 03/15-17. So, you just attended the 4th performance of this new piece. 🙂

The longest silence I have ever experienced was under maestro James Conlon. It was Verdi Requiem that we performed in October 2011. I believe the silence with longer than 30 second.

Dear Glenn,

As you point out so gently, both halves of Friday night’s concert feel like they belong in special, yet very different, places in the annals of UMS history. I will never forget either. The Varese is still ringing in my ears…what a performance. I am less concerned by the “waste” of star power on the first half of the program. I am just not convinced that the staginess was at all necessary or even appropriate. It all felt so controlled to me and, therefore, false. I don’t question MTT’s need to represent JC’s voice within this frame of American Mavericks, it is obvious. BUT, so extravagantly? He could have offered the iconic 4’33’’ as “an encore” one evening and made his point.

Reflecting on the context of “a time or cultural moment” or the placement of a work in its time and asking the question of what happens when one pulls it out of that moment is for me, the central dilemma. I actually think it may be one of the real dilemmas of the 20th century and certainly a problem when dealing with what has come to be called “time-based art” and “performance art” where TIME and the context of the moment is viewed as a consciously contributing medium. There was much brouhaha around the “retrospective” of the performance art works of Marina Abramovic at MOMA last season. Many felt that it was, again, a false or even disrespectful and naïve move on the part of MOMA. I have so much respect for Merce for intuiting all this and disbanding his company when he died. Your opinion seems to support a similar position.

The generally accepted metric we use to establish the real importance of art is usually framed in the form of a question: will is stand the test of time?

Hmmm….

Some interesting food for thought when it comes to these works.

Michael

P.S. Do you mind if I publish this correspondence on UMS Lobby…so that others can weigh in?

[N.B. This entry is submitted with Glenn Watkins’permission and is taken from an e-mail exchange between him and UMS Director of Programming, Michael Kondziolka.]

Dear Michael,

The concert on Friday night was a special one in the history of UMS, I think. I’ll leave it to you to identify the memorable or the forgettable, as the case may be.

What prompts this note to you is my memory of an epigraph that sits at the top the last chapter of Soundings. It’s from a David Cope interview with John Cage in 1980.

“I can’t recognized [my] Cartridge Music from one performance to the next. Somewhere I tell the story of going into a house . . . and the hostess to be nice had put Cartridge Music on in another room. . . . I turned to her and asked, “What is that music?” And she said, “You can’t be serious.” I said, ‘It’s very interesting, what is it?” And then she told me. I was pleased that I couldn’t recognize it . . . I don’t hear it, you see. I performed it . . . with David Tudor, and we made a recording when Earle Brown was in charge of Time Records. Earle asked David and me if . . . we wanted to hear the end result. Neither one of us wanted to hear it.”

The responsibility for programming Cage’s Song Book, surely one of the most extraordinary wastes of star-power (combined with unnecessary staginess, I might add) in the history of UMS, rests solely with MTT. But that can be put aside in light of the other wonderful and challenging pieces of the evening. It was a grand experience which suggests that innovation (renegades) cannot only open fascinating new vistas for all of us but that they can sometimes misfire—big time, in that they belong specifically to an age and do not respond well to revival. The reprise of SB, the remnant of an age now recognized as the third reincarnation of Dada, was a momentary embarrassment, but quickly put aside (thought not forgotten).

Onward! to the next project. Can’t wait.

Glenn

The concert was incredible and all of the performers were outstanding. It seemed at the end of Mass Transmission when the choir sang its last note and Jerry Blackstone still had his arms raised in a directors pose, the audience began clapping too soon. As people applauded, the expressions on Bates’ and the choir members’ faces seemed to suggest that the piece was not over, and it was supposed to continue. If anyone who is familiar with the piece and heard it on Thursday evening, did the audience cut short the work’s performance. Mass Transmission was captivatingly sublime.

Correction and addendum:

1) The program was partly modern and partly contemporary.

2) More than one person I’ve spoken with since then volunteered that s/he liked the concert more than s/he expected. Which confirms my point.

It was actually cited as being from London Royal Festival Hall in the Southbank Centre: “During a recent test in the hall, a note played mezzo forte on the horn measured apporximately 65 decibels of sound. A single ‘uncovered’ cough gave the same reading. A handkerchief placed over the mouth when coughing assists in obtaining a pianissimo.” The UM Men’s Glee Club goes on to request, “Please refrain from coughing until each piece is finished and be sure personal electronics are in silent mode or switched off during the concert.” Personally, I think that a short “audience rehearsal” would be in order prior to every concert. We are, after all, an indispensable part of the experience of presenting fine music.

Every time I travel to Ann Arbor to attend a concert at Hill Auditorium, I am puzzled by the absolute disconnect among the audience. Coughing, sniffling, candy wrappers that take 15 minutes to open, is only surpassed by the arrogance of acedamia thinking they are somehow superior to the rest of mankind, and rules of civility do not apply to them. Last evenings performance by the Chicago Symphony was, as usual, refined and delivered with artistry. Maestro Muti is respected by his orchestra and visa-versa. Unfortunately, not a single phrase of their delightful performance could escape the rude and obnoxious sounds of the audience. For those who do appreciate the thousands of hours that these artists invest in each performance, I applaud you. Unfortunately, at UMS performances, we are vastly outnumbered.
So long UMS. I will travel to future concerts at venues that truly appreciate and understand the value of the fine arts.

The wonderful encore was identified above as Haydn Quartet Op. 33, No. 2, mvt. iii “Largo”.

As for the “maverick” label, I don’t really care one way or the other. I choose which concerts to attend by the program and the performers, not the name of the series (though “maverick” sounds silly to me). The interview below shows that quartet members do not agree with the word “renegade” either.

http://www.annarbor.com/entertainment/hagen-quartet-preview/

But, I hasten to add, I think it was one of the highlights of the season thus far, regardless of how it fit into UMS’s marketing strategy.

I agree. A mix is better.

The classification of Beethoven as maverick is indeed puzzling. If LvB is the stray, who’s in the mainstream?

But, hey, there is an upside to this: if our Ludwig is a maverick, then maybe the modern composers will no longer be segregated into a special “risky” category to be dosed out spoon by spoon. Pretty soon, all concert music will be maverick, all in the same class. Come to think of it, isn’t that sort of where things stand in our age?

I liked everything about this concert. Unlike some other quartets, this group plays discreetly, almost reticently at times. Nice blend of tone. Subtle execution. Some stunning pianissimos. The tempi a bit brisk at times but plausible. Really most enjoyable.

Not to mention, Michael, that there is an annoying electrical hum coming from somewhere in the ceiling or behind the western wall of the apse that definitely competes with the sound coming from the singers. I think it may be the lights or the ceiling fans, not sure just what. Perhaps it can be looked into.

The concert with the Talis Scholars was a unique concert in the Maverick and Renegade Series at UMS. It was that because the music we heard was by far the oldest music in this concert row. The place in which the event took place was the catholic church. This place is the best place this music can actually performed as all the music stems from catholic composers. One thing I am thinking could have been deliberated: to turn of lights so that the audience sits in the dark so that oneself is alone with the music. This would have given me a more intense experience I think. The performernce was very clear and I could hear the phrasing very clearly. It was a very satiesfying evening as a whole.

What both of these “push-backs” miss is that people bought tickets to hear Messiaen’s composition.

So Mary, you ask: “But to hold against it the fact that it doesn’t uphold the beauty so many of us see in Messiaen’s work (and that Messiaen himself wanted us to see), is that fair?”

Yes, it is completely fair. The fact is, most people go to a concert because they want to listen to the music. If you pair a complex score with a movie that that makes it impossible to focus [ie. HEAR] the music, then you’ve defeated the whole point in going. The fact that the film with juvenille and artless is besides the point. It’s main offense was that it made it impossible to hear the music unless you closed your eyes.

You say Landau clearly didn’t want to make a film about natural beauty. I would like to point out this was not a submission to a lame hipster film festival, but a commissioned video for this music. There is a difference.

And Beth, a film that uses classical music in it is not analogous. You go to a film festival to see films, and that’s what you saw. I go to Messiaen concerts to hear Messiaen, which I was able to do as that joke of a film made it impossible to focus. Since you were not there, suffice to say it was so bad people were audibly laughing at it.

To begin: Messiaen’s “From the Canyons to the Stars” is an amazing piece of music, and it was very well performed by the Hamburg Symphony and soloists. I was thrilled to finally hear it live — and in Hill! — and to get for the first time the spatiality of the music. I would say, UMS, please: more Messiaen!

I agree with those who are lamenting the inclusion of the film. The film had some redeeming qualities, and I could see it in a much, much shorter version as a standalone piece — not great, but a bit interesting. But to attach it to Messiaen’s piece was to my mind a complete misfire, and a real “lack of artistic empathy,” as José Tapia so aptly says above. Messiaen’s score is epic and rigorous; the film was clichéd and meandering. Pause and silence are so important in “Des Canyons”; I suppose I can see a point of challenging that silence with forced images — but really, no thanks.

So, this was the last performance on the Hamburg’s US tour — but if there are future audiences elsewhere, my advice is: keep your eyes closed as much as possible and listen.

Friend of UMS Alex Ross was here too, apparently:

http://www.therestisnoise.com/2012/01/these-are-the-days-my-friends.html

I love the picture he has on this post. UMS should see about acquiring it for the archives.

Couldn’t face an entire evening of Handel concerti grossi and Vivaldi arias, turned in tickets, watched part I of Lady Chatterley, excellent BBC production.

He was really kind enough to give us three encores. I don’t go to concerts a lot but is that usual for a music performance? I like him and the ensemble. He has such a pure and rare tone quality. And each phrase of melisma just left me breathless. And he didn’t seem to lose any of his voice when doing the encores. That was really good technique, endurance, musicianship combined. He just made me feel humble and grateful.

Last night’s concert by Apollo’s Fire and Philippe Jaroussky was one of the most sublime UMS events I have ever attended. Please, please bring both them and him back for future performances!!!!! More baroque opera please!!!!

Cloud Gate demanded of me a different mode of appreciation and understanding. How does one “understand” a cloud, its movements, its tempo, its changing colors? i felt the same challenge to my cognitive self — and soon realized that that self was the wrong way to appreciate this presentation. What was needed was the approach to appreciating a sunset, a rising thunderstorm, a view of waves coming across a lake. I gained a new perspective on dance through this remarkable performance.

And how eloquent is its creator!!!

Rob Northrup

After starting 15 minutes late as usual for UMS events — the cacophony became quickly unbearable. Shame on the Hill Auditorium organizers — you have a fine concert hall with wonderful accoustics and the music was so incredibly OVERAMPLIFIED that the decible level was unhealthy and unbearable (the amplification would have been too loud for an outdoor concert let alone an indoor concert in Hill). I liked some of the music but the amplification level made it unbearable and I had to flee after 1 hour. I get around 50 UMS tickets each season, but I will avoid getting any non-classical tickets to any Hill Auditorium events in the future.

Thank you UMS! Thank you Michael! Thank you Liz! The concert was out of this world. It meant so much to so many people that I saw yesterday. Bella Ciao was brilliant.

Frankly….I was completely confused by this selection. I knew the music as one thing…but the text they were singing was clearly the Spanish text indicated in the libretto as the de Falla. I will look into it and see what I can discover. I am glad you brought this up again as it was one of the more mysterious moments for me during the otherwise enjoyable concert.

um, I think the Chopin was in fact the de Falla. He must have been inspired by it. It was the Ballad of Majorca that sounded like the Chopin, no?

Just to let you know, the Gluck was actually arranged by Sgambati, although she made a few changes in the harmonies here and there.

A new professor in music theory at U-M. I was also lucky enough to hear Bernstein conduct the Vienna Philharmonic (in 1984, in Vienna) when he conducted Mahler’s 4th. There are some advantages to being “a certain age.”

I think he played the Mephisto Waltz as an encore.
There were several rows of SRO listeners in the back and a number of people were seated on the stage!
So sad what is happening with dwindling audiences for classical music in the US. Hopefully the influx of new young artists like Ms Wang can help reverse this trend.

One of the most remarkable piano recitals I’ve heard in over 50 years. I haven’t been so moved since my last Horowitz recital in 1980, which says a lot. And her quirky transcription of The Sorcerer’s Apprentice reminded me of Horowitz as well (and her infinite range of tone color). At the same time, her technique is the most natural I have seen of ANY pianist. This was my first concert in Michigan, and I couldn’t believe the number of cell phones. We clap between movements in California, but at least we manage to turn our cell phones off.

Encores:

Prokofiev, Toccata, op. 11

Dukas, The Sorcerer’s Apprentice, transcribed by ??, possibly Gyorgy Sandor (former U-M teacher) or Michael Gurt (local talent), both of whom I believe have made transcriptions

Schubert-Liszt (I think), transcription of Gretchen am Spinnrade

Gluck, excerpt from Dance of the Blessed Spirits from his opera Orfeo ed Euridice, transcribed by ?

I liked the way Wang got to the encores immediately without making us beg for them.

Yuja told me after the recital that she made the arrangement herself from the orchestral score…AND that it was only the second time she had performed it in public. She decided to throw it in at the spur of the moment. Lucky us!

Yuja herself arranged the Sorceror’s Apprentice. All other encores have been posted as a comment to this post — a diverse mix of Prokofiev, Dukas, Schubert, and Gluck.

I am a long time devotee of MM. Love his musicality and dance vocabulary. My comments come from an exchange with another audience member specifically about Socrates.
I do believe that it is very difficult to finish an evening with a work like Socrates, folks like to go out with a bang. On the other hand it is also somehow wrong to follow it with something lighter and energetic because those who have entered into the world of spirit and contemplation that it evokes want and need to stay there to allow it to resolve.
The dance vocabulary for the piece was more subtle than the earlier pieces and that gave my guests the feeling that it somehow was a lesser work. This came especially from the balletomane who really still has trouble “reading” modern dance in my opinion. Another problem was the layers of vocal, titles, dance and music. It was more sophisticated and demanding than an Opera in that the number of bodies in motion needed more focused attention than a mostly static Opera requires.
Anyway, I actually felt I would enjoy it more the second time I see it. Also, next time we are in NYC (Dec) we need to take a good look at some of the reinstalled Greek urns and friezes!

Between Emerson and Ahmad Jamal, it was a busy musical week-end for UMS and its fans – I speak in more detail at http://sophiedelphis.blogspot.com/2011/09/musical-week-end.html .

The man proved he could still swing at a ripe 81 years young.

However, as deep as my love for Hill Auditorium remains, I have a difficult time listening to a jazz quartet in that space. I think the intimacy and intensity of a performance like last night’s has a tough time translating to such an expansive (and majestic!) room. I would love to see UMS present jazz in smaller spaces.

In any case, great music, good show! Thanks, Mark+Co.!

My wife, a pair of friends, and I (all experienced professional choral musicians) drove up from Columbus OH for the concert. It was wonderful. The baroque instruments demonstrated the difference from modern, especially brass, in accompanying voices, blending with, rather than overpowering them. We agreed that the solo and choral work was very fine, although the female soloists seemed to lose projection in melismas at times. Suzuki’s interpretation avoided the heavy Romantic interpretation often heard, especially in the slower sections, and his conducting was precise and effective. Thanks for bringing the group to the upper mid-west.

Yes, the precision was impressive, although I am not personally fond of these Asian performance styles that involve turning humans into robots. A more general comment, however – I happened to be sitting in the sixth row and the sound level was very high. I thought of Dr. Raphael’s Saturday Morning Physics lecture about saving the fragile hair cells in your ear, by avoiding loud noises. I am not suggesting that the performers should be less loud – I realize they have to fill a big space in Hill (although I have heard classical singers fill it with just their unamplified voice). What I suggest is that UMS might warn those sitting near the stage that ear plugs might be a wise option, if the performers are going to be loud, or really heavily amplified (like the Blues concert a few weeks ago).

Hi Matthew!

I’m sorry to say it, but your partner is correct. The house lights were accidently programmed into that particular lighting cue by the company. Yikes! It got fixed before Saturday night’s show.

Mary, UMS