I enjoyed Concert #3-the programming definitely had a lot of contrast! The Concord Symphony was such an epic way to end the evening. My favorite movements from the piece were probably the Hawthorne and Alcotts…I hadn’t realized how short the Alcotts was and found myself wishing it was a longer movement when it ended somewhat suddenly. The Morton Feldmen was interesting to listen to, and although I am glad I got to hear it I am not sure how much I actually enjoyed it.

This concert was so much fun-the John Cage Songbooks were hilarious and serious, broad and pointed at the same time. I’ll never get to see anything like this again, in all likelihood, so I’m really thankful I got to see it tonight! I was impressed with the range of vocal techniques used by the singers, and by the overall setup/concept for the performance. Absolute Jest was probably my other favorite piece of the night-it had so much energy and I was frankly dazzled by the St. Lawrence String Quartet and the San Francisco Symphony’s performance.

It’s so exciting to go to a performance featuring purely “maverick” composers and find yourself truly enjoying each piece for what it is-music! I was expecting to find each piece interesting, but I surprised myself by the beauty that was in all of them. Who can say tone clusters can’t be beautiful after listening to the Piano Concerto by Henry Cowell?! My favorite, however, was Mason Bates’ piece Mass Transmission, which was stunning. The electronica didn’t feel forced or out of place, but instead, relevant. The middle “Java” segment was so cool how it played out, and the emotional swells in the music were powerful.

The Anderson Project was really quite brilliant in how it manages to pull off a decidedly multi-character story with only one actor on stage. Yves Jacques was amazing and the way that he works with the video, lighting, sets, and reactions of the audience is fascinating and gives the story life. In particular, I was drawn to the telling of “The Shadow;” I think I would have gone to see that one scene alone, it was so powerful. Really a stunning performance.

I just got back from the performance-I definitely enjoyed it, it was so interesting to watch!

The lighting, music, and movement worked together to create a fairly surreal effect. The music seemed to have a machine or engine like steady quality for much of the piece, but also with a heartbeat like bass. The movement was sometimes creepily unnatural looking, as it pushed the boundaries of what the body is capable of and what we typically do with it. I noticed especially a lot of “limb” in the dance.

What interested me was the contrasts between motion and sudden stillness, bodies in silhouette and in light, in full extension and contraction, and between a single dancer and many dancers. I haven’t seen a lot of dance, and I was intrigued by how these details could be used on stage to create different effects.

I don’t typically listen to a lot of renaissance or choral music, so I was happy to be able to attend this performance and listen to the Tallis Scholars. They sang with such a beautiful tone and blend, and I really enjoyed it.

I followed along with the text as I was listening, and it seemed to me that contrary to the program notes for Gesualdo, there was quite a bit of word painting and imagery in his music. For instance, shifting from polyphony to resonant homophony on “Savior,” general descensions in pitch and tessitura for “let your tears fall like a flood,” and of course the burst of activity on “liber.”

In regards to the lights, I actually appreciated having the lights on. I felt it was more natural to the setting, and in my case, allowed me to follow along with the text and read through the program notes. I do agree that with the lights darkened the experience could have been more intense with “you alone with the music,” but I liked feeling more connected with the rest of the audience, listening to sacred music in a church.

Overall-a great experience.

Hmm…yes, that does make sense. I think that for me, with something like Einstein, where the “meaning” is so open for interpretation, trying to lasso the experience into words or concrete thoughts lessens the effect it has…although I do believe one might tag down portions of it, instead of being unsatisfied attempting to construct logical, solid meaning from it all, it should be ok to find a meaning of sorts from any aesthetic reactions, as you put it. I think this sort of meaning, that comes from a resonance with your heart, soul, and even unconscious, is longer lasting and more powerful. I definitely agree that there is a reluctance to allow something to simply “be,” without a definite, understandable purpose. Very interesting.

I absolutely, without question, loved Einstein on the Beach. In fact I sat straight through all 4 and 1/2 hours of it because I didn’t want to miss any detail of the opera. What impressed me the most, besides the obvious strength of mind and body that it must take to perform and help stage it, is how deliberate everything about it is. The way each scene sets a different living portrait…the way the characters could recite the same words over and over again but never in quite the same way…A true work of art. I wish I could see it again!
I had read that the opera, rather than plot driven, was intended to be a sort of character portrait for Einstein. This is exactly what I loved about it, that each scene was like looking at a painting on the wall, alive and accompanied by music. And the length and slow changing nature of each scene gave me the feeling of being at an art museum and not just breezing but taking the time to thoroughly understand and digest each painting. Each scene drew me in until I bought it completely, (perhaps the music becomes almost hypnotizing at some point, that seems possible…) and although in the back of my mind I might think about how long the scene had been going on, when it ended I was reluctant to let the image go.
One of my favorite images Wilson captured in the opera was from Train 1, when the lights went to dark on the set and the light the boy was holding made it look like a lighthouse in the middle of the night. Similarly I loved the Night Train…something about the light holding true surrounded by dark was really beautiful. Knee 3 I also especially loved.
As for the meaning, I can’t say that I have developed a theory or even have thought deeply about how my experiences connect with it to create meaning. Instead I have accepted the whole image/experience of the opera as simply, something really beautiful. I didn’t assign any great insight or meaning to it, but instead somewhere the music and imagery resonated with me and I found myself tearing up a little (the truth!) at the finish, whether because it ended or what, I’m not entirely sure. I think it’s just because I found it beautiful.