Horror in Music City:
Frankenstein Comes to OZ
Looking for something a little spooky to get in the spirit of the Season? OZ is bringing Manual Cinema’s reboot of Frankenstein to town October 24th-26th.
“If I cannot inspire love, I will cause fear!”
― Frankenstein.
Chicago’s renowned multimedia company Manual Cinema stitches together the classic story of Frankenstein with brilliant author Mary Shelley’s own biography to create a visually stunning theatrical epic about the beauty and horror of creation. Featuring a spellbinding chamber orchestra, Manual Cinema’s Frankenstein combines handmade shadow puppetry, cinematic techniques, and innovative sound and music to create immersive visual stories for stage and screen.
Celebrate Halloween at OZ Arts with a deal to die for! See Manual Cinema’s Frankenstein on Oct. 24 or 25 for only $20 when you bundle tickets with Fable Cry’s Festival of Ghouls (Nov. 2). Halloween Packages are $40.
More Info here
Nashville Opera’s Madama Butterfly
On October 10, Nashville Opera opened its 2019 season with a delightful production of Giacomo Puccini’s Madama Butterfly at the Andrew Jackson Hall in the Tennessee Performing Arts Center. The production, starring the Cuban American lyric soprano Elizabeth Caballero, was remarkable for the exquisite vocal performances as well as its heart-rending telling of Puccini’s tragic tale.
Completed in 1904, Madama Butterfly, like most of Puccini’s works, rests uncomfortably somewhere between the long evolution of Italian opera and an expression of the verismo movement of the time. First a movement in literature and then in opera, a verismo narrative is characterized by a naturalistic setting in which a poor or common character is driven to a catastrophic end by, as W.H. Auden once put it, “…an impersonal natural need outside his control.” These impersonal, natural needs are typically social constructs of religious and/or societal norms.
In Madama Butterfly, the expectations of marriage and family are the societal norms that drive Puccini’s exotic heroine, Cio-Cio San (aka Butterfly) to marry Lieutenant Pinkerton, and to wait for him when all others have given up hope for his return. It is Pinkerton’s undermining of these expectations that ultimately lead to her suicide. However, Cio-Cio San is not a common woman. Born wealthy, she is not forced to make immoral decisions due to these impersonal needs; rather, she is able to make markedly moral decisions despite those needs. A woman with an undying faith is a stereotype in Romantic opera, one thinks of Agathe (Der Freishcütz), Senta (Der Fliegende Holländer) or Desdemonda (Otello) and in this way she is almost a typical opera heroine set within a tragic verismo context.
Caballero, with her grace, charismatic presence, stamina and wondrous instrument, is cast perfectly as Butterfly. Indeed, she thrives in Puccini’s relentless setting. From her entrance aria early in the first act, where she is brought to the very top of the soprano range, until the very end, Caballero’s intensity and presence was remarkable. Her central aria, “Un bel dì vedremo,” was simply astonishing, her delicate voice’s gentle timbre clearly articulating Butterfly’s hopeless optimism.
Maestro Dean Williamson and the Nashville Opera Orchestra deserve mention here for their subtle handling of Puccini’s motivically organized opera. Apart from the “Un bel dì” motive, which is overtly reprised at Pinkerton’s return, Puccini’s motivic designs are less directly referential than his earlier works, with some creating more of a musical atmosphere and ambiance. Williamson handled this subtle design with great care, all the while maintaining the incredibly important balance in Puccini’s Orchestra—the heavy orchestral brass accompanying the “heroic” Pinkerton versus the lighter and more delicate presence of Butterfly.
For his part, Adam Diegel played a dashing Pinkerton, with a bright and polished tenor that made his naïve seduction of Butterfly quite believable. His and Cabllero’s voices blended with a surprisingly poignant intimacy at the end of the first act in their duet “Viene la sera.” Pam Lisenby’s costuming was simple but elegant–Pinkerton appears in the first act in a heroic white uniform but returns in a dreaded black uniform. The straight and square lines of his uniform contrasted powerfully with the flowing curves and colorful prints of Butterfly’s kimonos.
Sharpless, the American Consul, is one of the most innovative of Puccini’s narrative characters. This baritone part, a voice type traditionally reserved for the antagonist, here plays the role of a Greek chorus, warning Pinkerton (and the audience) of the approaching catastrophe and commenting on it afterwards. As Sharpless, on Thursday Lester Lynch seemed to have some difficulties in terms of power in the first act, but by the second his voice bloomed into a well-rounded sound that carried throughout TPAC’s very difficult hall. His acting was delightful, at times humorous and at others reprimanding.
If Sharpton communicated the wrongs in Pinkerton’s seduction, Suziki, played by the wonderful Cassandra Zoe Velasco, expressed the pain that it inflicted on Butterfly. At the end of the second act, her flower duet with Butterfly was delightful when their voices gently blended in a magical moment as cherry blossoms floated down from above.
Joel Sorensen, as the marriage broker Goro, was pretty darn funny, as was Brent Hetherington as Prince Yamadori (Hetherington doubled well as “The Bonze”). The blocking of the production was genius with Kate Pinkerton (Sara Krigger) innocently invading Butterfly’s space and privacy; an encroachment on Butterfly’s world that served as an immediate and symbolic expression of Western imperialism’s influence on the East.
In all Director John Hoomes has pulled off another success and it bodes quite well for a fun season of Nashville Opera, which will return in December with a production of Gian Carlo Menotti’s holiday opera Amahl and the Night Visitors.
Music City News:
The River as Song: Prolific American and Chinese Songwriters Take the Stage at Analog at Hutton
A concert that features multi-Grammy Award winning singer-songwriter Jim Lauderdale and multiple national music award-winner Su Yang, from China is going to take place at the Analog at Hutton Hotel at 8pm, October 24th. This is a collaboration between MTSU Center for Chinese Music (CCMC) and Culture and Center for Popular Music (CPM).
I interviewed Dr. Mei Han, director of the CCMC about the idea behind this unique concert. She said that the concert series is meant to connect individuals across cultures and create a space for creative exploration. This performance will be the first of its kind in the series, with a focus on writing music and lyrics in addition to playing music, featuring multi-Grammy Award winning singer-songwriter Jim Lauderdale and multiple national music award-winner Su Yang, from China.
The Dialogue series has brought Chinese and American instrumentalists together, matching instrumental cognates. Grammy award-winning harmonica virtuoso Howard Levy and American national hammer dulcimer champing David Mahler among other, were paired with top Chinese artists to perform a variety of concerts in Middle Tennessee. Beyond this, well-known names, such as Abigail Washburn, Grammy award-winning songwriter and acclaimed banjoist, lectured on bridging cultures through music as part of this series. It’s not just about connecting the cultures, but also connecting as individuals to one another using music as a vehicle.
If you missed any of these exceptional concerts, you’re in luck; the upcoming Dialogue performance will be taking place in at the Analog at Hutton Hotel at 8pm, October 24th. Titled “The River as Song,” this concert lends a special focus to the importance of both the Yellow and Mississippi Rivers and their influences on Chinese and American music, respectively. Indeed, the symbolic and literal importance of rivers runs deep in this performance.
For Su Yang, the folk music he encountered in his hometown in Northwestern China in the Upper Basin of the Yellow River provides inspiration for his songwriting. Where most Chinese musicians are trained in conservatories, Su Yang developed his musical talent and collected folk music near his hometown independently, so his writing is uniquely informed by sounds and music that have developed over generations in the area, which also happens to be the cradle of Chinese civilization. His song, “Like a Grass”, showcases how he blends folk music with rock and roll.
To Jim, the Mississippi River and especially Memphis have played an integral role in shaping his musical
influences. Jim cited influences like the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, George Jones, Robert Hunter and Jerry Garcia, and certainly without Memphis, there is no rock and roll. Jim referred to Memphis as the cradle of a lot of great American and world music. Check out his work on “The Road is a River” to see how the symbolism of rivers figures into his writing.
Jim said, “There must be something in the water.”
So there you have it—music from the cradle of Chinese civilization, and music from the cradle of great American music, coming together for a performance in Nashville.
Both artists are looking forward to collaborating on this project, and hope for the performance to be exactly what the series aims to be – a dialogue. As for Jim, he enjoys listening in addition to performing, and anticipates the collaboration itself as being his favorite part of the program. Su Yang also expressed that he wants to expand his artistic space through listening and observation, travel, and collaborating with different artists.
The event is free, but reservations are advised.*
*The event is 21+, and doors open at 7pm.
Gateway Chamber Orchestra Presents
Ultra-Romanticism at the Franklin Theater
Deceptively spacious and nestled between two storefronts on the aesthetic and quaint Main Street of historic Franklin Tennessee, the Franklin Theater welcomes a vast array of events from musical theater performances to the traditional film screening. Warm, regal golds and reds decorate the interior, accentuating the intimacy of the venue to accommodate the crowd that anxiously awaits the Gateway Chamber Orchestra. People chatter excitedly in anticipation, and this specific audience is full of groups of people who are already familiar with one another, making the room feel even more responsive and pleasant.
The program for the evening of September 30th boasts an ultra-romantic offering of Gabriel Fauré, Carl Reinecke, and Franz Schubert, with the headline of “Artistry of Lorna McGhee,” highlighting the featured soloist (a series given by the organization that draws from masterful musicians across the country). With musicians hailing from the Austin Peay State University faculty to the Nashville Symphony, the orchestra itself carries so much influence and notoriety that even discounting McGhee, the audience is promised a high-caliber musical experience. President and conductor Gregory Wolynec takes the podium in preparation for the performance, but before the orchestra begins, he seizes the opportunity to introduce the pieces on the first half of the concert so that the audience has a framework for which to follow the program.
Gabriel Fauré’s Pelléas et Mélisande, a suite of incidental music based on the play by Maurice Maeterlinck of the same name, follows the titular characters through their turbulent love to their untimely demise. The central theme of the play revolves around the cyclic nature of creation and destruction for the sake of love- the beautiful Mélisande marries the galant Goloud in response to his acts of chivalry but soon after falls in love with his younger brother, Pelléas, which ultimately leads the pair to their deaths. Though Fauré hesitated to sacrifice his musical content and integrity for the sake of conforming to an external narrative (he was an absolutist in the argument that pervaded the 19th century about the purpose of music), his score sets the atmosphere for the play, even slightly utilizing the leitmotif technique, without depicting every change of character and mood.
Opening with a lilting melody beautifully executed by the violins, the first movement occurs at a spring where Mélisande has lost her crown in the water. She despairs, having left a life of turmoil and wanting no remnant of her former existence. This peaceful setting grows through an ever-ascending melody, warm sounds emitting from the strings and woodwinds, before two disruptive hunting calls in the horn, marking the arrival of Goloud. Resonant and strident, the horn calls between the rich chorales in the strings is a lovely dichotomy. La Fileuse, the title of the second movement literally translating to The Spinner, functions as an orchestral rendering of a spinning song. While the first violins spin away their expertly even sixteenth-note triplets, an interplay of double reed declarations forms the initial melody. Principal oboe Roger Wiesmeyer adeptly establishes a precedent of flowing lyricism and lush tone for all who follow to emulate. Undoubtedly the most renowned movement from this suite, though the last movement to be added, the Sicilienne not only uses prior unpublished material of Fauré’s, but has also since been adapted into works for solo cello and piano (variations include solo transcriptions for other instruments as well). Lisa Wolynec shines on flute, her sound delicate and lovely. An omission from this performance is La Chanson de Mélisande, which provides some motivic material utilized in the fourth movement, the depiction of Mélisande’s and Pelléas’ deaths. Juxtaposed over expansive phrases in the strings are marked dotted rhythms in the woodwinds that enforce the idea of a dirge. Having played much more of a background role to this point, the trumpets have a stark moment of color, Rob Waugh and Alec Blazek striking the perfect balance within the ensemble. The ending of the piece is muted and quick, portraying the fall of the hero and heroine with little fanfare and much lament.
When Lorna McGhee takes the stage, the audience falls into a trance. The sound that emanates from such a small vessel is breathtaking. McGhee fills the entire theater, commanding both the audience and the orchestra. She is literally moved by the music, and all her movement is tied directly to the musical content as she interacts with the orchestra. Her technique serves as an extension of her voice and body, working hand in hand with her musicality, and she allows every level of her dynamic playing a
character and color to which she naturally associates. A staple in the flautist repertoire, Carl Reinecke’s three movement concerto exhibits much gorgeous melodic material over diverse styles and opulent harmonies. The primary theme of the first movement is a soaring gesture that winds its way through the full ensemble as the soloist remarks on these statements with conversational virtuosity. McGhee interacts flawlessly within these pairings. One of note is a duet where the violin outlines the melodic structure while solo flute fills out that skeleton with arpeggiation- Concertmaster Emily Hanna Crane and McGhee perform this so tastefully. In contrast to the sweeping Romantic ideas in the first movement, the initial theme of the second is more akin to a funeral march. This movement alternates between this metric lamentation and a more hopeful and rubato response until a final return to the first statement and a final note so clear and shimmering that one could feel the audience hold their breath. Fluid cascades of notes and virtuosic passages fill the third movement, which McGhee breezes through with ease to the concluding triumphant cadence.
Schubert’s fourth symphony closes the program. The subtitle “Tragic” was attached to the piece by Schubert himself sometime after his completion of the work (he finished this composition at the ripe age of 19 years old). Though the opening statement occurs in a minor key, the majority of the following themes and developmental sections center in major. Why he would choose the word tragic to define this work that is seemingly the opposite is unknown to this day, though some scholars speculate that he may have been trying to garner publicity for the premiere. Schubert takes influence from Beethoven for the construction of this symphony, utilizing specific thematic material in the first movement (as well as the development of this material between the first two movements) and certain compositional devices that can be found in Beethoven’s string quartets. Heavily featured in this symphony is the woodwind section with beautiful exposed contributions from bassoonist Dawn Hartley and oboist Wiesmeyer. The third movement is a boisterous romp with shifting metrical impulses and huge dynamic changes that prepares the momentum into the yearning first theme of the fourth movement. A true finale, the Allegro boasts an impressive number of notes that are carried skillfully by the entirety of the orchestra, providing an apt denouement for a concert that relies so massively on individual artistry and musicianship. Full of rich sonority and lyrical phrasing, this performance of the Gateway Chamber Orchestra uses Romance and distinct virtuosity to bestow a beautiful production upon its audience that fully showcases the brilliant Lorna McGhee.
In Contemporary Reviews:
An Evening of Renewal with Intersection
Sustainability and environmental awareness were central themes when Intersection partnered with the Portara Ensemble this past Saturday evening at Lipscomb’s new Shinn Event Center for a concert billed as “Renewal”. It is only fitting that a concert addressing awareness of 21st century problems do so through the vehicle of 21st century music – and the program reflected this with a slate of works all written within roughly the last decade.
For those familiar with Intersection’s mission and programming, a concert exclusively featuring the works of living composers is no surprise. Likewise, the promotion of new work is a core component of the Portara Ensemble’s artistic goals. Still, as a prodigal son of the Nashville community (I returned in 2014 after 15 years away), I am continually excited by this embrace of new music by some of our city’s finest musicians. Promotion of contemporary composers in chamber contexts is just as important as the Symphony’s commitment to new music, and it affords musicians and audiences a chance to discover new and challenging art in an intimate and welcoming environment. It is a great time to be a new music fan in Nashville.
It is a great time to be a new music fan in Nashville.
Saturday’s program was bookended by the Portara ensemble performing two a cappella selections, Greg Jasperse’s Oh How Beautiful, This Finley Woven Earth, and Earth
Song by Frank Ticheli. Both works were squarely in the ensemble’s collective wheelhouse and served respectively as an invitation and fitting conclusion to the evening. Jasperse’s setting is colored with tight jazz inspired voicings, and the intonation required to bring out these contrasts was spot on. For both selections the text was displayed for the audience, but given the ensemble’s attention to diction and sensitive phrasing, I understood nearly every word without the projections.
The Portara Ensemble was joined by the musicians of Intersection for the evening’s second work – Mass for the Endangered by Sarah Kirkland Snider. The composer describes the work as a “. . . hymn for the voiceless and the discounted, a requiem for the not-yet-gone.” The mass
makes use of original text by Nathaniel Bellows alongside the traditional Latin liturgical text of the ordinary and according to the composer “embodies a prayer for endangered animals and the environments in which they live.” Conductor Kelly Corcoran was careful to balance the timbral distinction of the orchestration with the vocal lines, allowing the subtle colors and textures to emerge without overshadowing the singers. The dynamic strength of the entire ensemble was reserved for the work’s true tutti statements, allowing these sections to function as musical arrivals giving the work a sense of pace. Snider’s work often features timbral exchanges between the choral and instrumental voices, requiring meticulous intonation throughout a wide dynamic range. These were handled nearly seamlessly, which even under ideal circumstances is difficult, but in a fairly dry acoustical environment this was doubly impressive. I was particularly enamored with the conclusion of the Kyrie, which featured a long sustain in the female voices that slowly faded to niente accompanied by a reverent, sparsely pulsing statement in the strings. This aesthetic gesture was revisited in a slightly different fashion to end the Agnus Dei, giving the work a sense of closure. These kinds of tapered and delicate endings can be deceptively difficult, but in both instances the ensemble was committed and convincing.
Snider’s mass was followed by Re(new)al a concerto for Percussion Quartet by Viet Cuong featuring Jonny Allen, Ji Hye Jung, Terry Sweeney, and Lee Vinson. The composer spoke briefly before the performance to place the work in context and explain some of his musical motivations. In keeping with the theme of the evening, Re(new)al draws its inspiration from renewable energy sources. The work is presented in three movements, each representing a different renewable energy source – Hydro, Wind, and Solar. The composer explained that the instrumentation for each movement was inspired by these three types of energy sources, and that the solo percussion parts are meant to function as a whole, with one musical idea often broken into its constituent elements and distributed among the players – a kind of contemporary take on the medieval hocket.
Cuong’s conception of water-inspired instrumentation was represented quite literally, as the percussionists began the first movement by “toasting” water filled goblets to create a sort of cooperative crystalline chime. These kinds of non-conventional instruments can often be difficult to play accurately, but the performers were equal to the task. When the ensemble began to add its voices to the soloists, the rich decay of the goblets was augmented initially by the strings and piano with a specific awareness on articulation and decay, matching the characteristics of the percussion section.
The second movement began attacca as the percussionists surrounded a single snare drum to collectively create a driving rhythmic theme incorporating kick drums and high hats for each soloist. The ensemble responded with a solid groove heavily featuring the bari sax in a kind Tower-of-Power-esque lick. The percussion soloists eventually transitioned from the meta drum kit to compressed air canisters (wind), which were sonically rewarding especially when paired with a bombastic initial statement. But, the irony of one-time-use canisters as instruments in a piece focusing on renewable energy and ecological awareness presented a bit of a disparity.
Cuong’s third movement displaying the concept of solar power through metallic percussion required the most visual representation of cooperation from the soloists as they shared a vibraphone and glockenspiel. The tone colors were imaginative, including a submerged crotale that established a glissando theme adopted by the strings and revisited by the trombone during the climax of the work. The simple choreography created by the sharing of instruments and the intricate, cooperative motions required by the soloists to realize their parts was hypnotic. This delicate teamwork, coupled with the Messiaen meets Radiohead post-minimalist aesthetic provided by the shimmering pitched percussion and slowly moving string accompaniment, held the audience spellbound. As a bit of an orchestration junkie, this was my favorite musical moment of the evening.
The Portara Ensemble concluded the concert with Ticheli’s Earth Song. As with the Jasperse selection that began the night, the ensemble performed with a warm blend and delicate phrasing. Given Snider’s mass setting performed earlier in the program, the Ticheli acted almost as a benediction, with the choir softly repeating “peace” to end the evening.
Intersection will return in January with a concert entitled ‘Journey’ when they “…will explore the connections between the 19th Amendment and the Civil Rights Movement through the music and story of Florence Price and excerpts from Nkeiru Okoye’s Opera Harriet Tubman: When I Crossed That Line to Freedom.”
Nashville Opera Presents:
Madame Butterfly
Giacomo Puccini is often considered one of the greatest Italian opera composers of all time. Madame Butterfly, in addition to La bohème and Tosca, has become one of Puccini’s most performed works and is beloved by opera first-timers and connoisseurs alike. Composed in 1904, Butterfly underwent five variations of the original composition to arrive at the standard version that is performed today. Nashville Opera’s production of Madame Butterfly is a moving and talent-filled performance. Of course, it wouldn’t be an opera without drama, deceit, and heartbreak.
The opera takes place in Nagasaki, Japan and opens on the day of fifteen-year-old Butterfly (Cio-Cio-san)’s wedding to American Lieutenant B. F. Pinkerton. Unbeknownst to Butterfly, Pinkerton’s intentions of their marriage are not of love, but status. Sharpless, the American consul, advises him to consider the consequences of breaking Cio-Cio San’s heart. Instead, Pinkerton boasts that he can cancel his marriage at any time and he looks forward to the day when he can marry a “real” American bride. The geishas arrive with Cio-Cio-San and the wedding proceeds with her family, friends, and servant Suzuki in attendance. The celebration is cut short when Butterfly’s uncle arrives and announces to everyone that Butterfly has secretly converted to Christianity for her new husband. The wedding party is horrified at this accusation, and denounces Butterfly, leaving her crying with Pinkerton alone to console her.
Act II and III take place three years after the wedding day, when Cio-Cio-San is waiting for her husband to return from America.
She dismisses Suzuki’s prayers for her and even turns down the wealthy Prince Yamadori as a suitor, convinced that Pinkerton will come back for her. When Sharpless tries to read Butterfly a letter from Pinkerton, she introduces Sharpless to the son that she had by Pinkerton three years ago. After Sharpless leaves, a ship is heard in the harbor: Pinkerton is coming back, but with no intention of seeing Butterly. She and Suzuki decorate the house with flowers. Together with the child, they gaze over the harbor and the famous “Humming Chorus” is heard as the sun sets.
As dawn breaks and Act III begins, Butterfly is unaware that these will be the last hopeful moments of the opera. Ultimately, Cio-Cio-san is faced with the symbolic decision between living in her grief or dying with honor. In addition to Puccini’s striking score, the elaborate set, lighting, and traditional costuming together in Nashville Opera’s production to transport the audience into the tragic world of Cio-Cio-san and her unrequited love. This cast of characters beautifully executes John Hoomes’s stellar artistic direction.
Elizabeth Caballero plays the demanding role of Cio-Cio-san. Her soaring soprano voice is captivating and strong, leaving the listeners drawn to Butterfly’s deep devotion and heartfelt melodic lines. Her brilliant presentation of this character is the heart of the show, and will leave the audience moved and invested in Cio-Cio-San’s world until the curtain closes. Adam Diegal plays B.F. Pinkerton. His commanding stage presence and powerful voice creates the undeniable chemistry that makes Madame Butterfly such a compelling opera. His convincing Pinkerton leaves the audience heartbroken for the young Cio-Cio-san.
The production itself does not take away from the most iconic aspect of this show, Puccini’s music that will be conducted by Dean Williamson. Madame Butterfly is a well-rounded and timeless production that will satisfy more experienced attendees and be a perfect introduction to first-time opera-goers.
Nashville Opera’s production of Madame Butterfly will play at the Tennessee Performing Arts Center’s Andrew Jackson Hall, October 10th and 12th. English subtitles will be projected during the show.
At the Schermerhorn...
Shostakovich at the Nashville Symphony: This is Why Art Matters.
As I write this, and most likely as you read it, we are both secure in the tacit knowledge that despite the imperfection, inequality, and division present in our current political climate, we aren’t in any real danger of being executed by our country’s leaders for our opinions on social issues, government, or art. For us, the Orwellian concept of “thoughtcrime” remains a cautionary tale from a literary work rather than a tangible threat to individual freedoms.
This seems like a fairly simple concept – especially in the ridiculously connected 21st century when even the most mundane facets of life (like the pronunciation of GIF) devolve into vigorous online debate. As we approach the third decade of the new millennium, perhaps we’ve become a little complacent in our capacity for dissent and our right to communicate it. But, as the Nashville Symphony’s programming this past weekend illustrates, freedom of expression isn’t a universal guarantee, and it isn’t always free. Sometimes the costs can be severe.
The Nashville Symphony’s presentation of Shostakovich’s Fourth Symphony this past Saturday began by inviting the audience to first understand the context (both historical and personal) surrounding the creation of the work via Beyond the Score® – a series originally developed by the Chicago Symphony Orchestra to provide audiences a deeper understanding and connection to composers and their works through a multimedia presentation featuring, video, musical excerpts, a narrator, and an actor.
The narration detailing the political climate surrounding the Russian Revolution and Stalin’s eventual rise was regularly underscored by musical examples, video footage, and portrayals of Stalin, Shostakovich, and his colleagues. The audience was invited to consider not only the political circumstances of the early twentieth century, but also the impact these conditions had on those whose work and art were used in defense and promotion of the ideals favored by the powerful.
Tying the narration, video, and commentary back to the piece itself was very effective. It was particularly helpful to hear musical excerpts that could be interpreted as either bolstering party ideals, or defying them. These kinds of references to external influences are not really a stretch. After all, Shostakovich used a factory whistle in his second symphony – a fact referenced in the presentation. But, in addition to the modern musical technique found in the fourth, these references begin to become much less overt and depending upon interpretation, these kinds of allusions may be dangerous. Much of Shostakovich’s output exists in this land of double meaning. For example, his String Quartet No. 8 of 1960 is publicly dedicated to the victims of the Dresden firebombing, but the grief expressed in the work is often attributed to Shostakovich’s own feelings at having been forced to join the Communist Party. With few exceptions, his orchestral works are also subject to multiple interpretations. Scholars sometimes debate his true intentions, but his musical prowess is rarely questioned.
Shostakovich’s Fourth Symphony was written during 1935-36, but did not receive its premiere performance until 1961. Before he was denounced in an unsigned Pravda article in January of 1936, he had been held up as a kind of wunderkind and a Russian musical hero. Shostakovich had garnered international fame for his early symphonic output, but despite its success in Russia and abroad his opera Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk District displeased Stalin. The attack in Pravda accused Shostakovich of failing to represent the aims and truth of socialism and instead appealing only to the backward ideas of the bourgeois. During this time of social upheaval men had been jailed and even killed for much less.
After its completion, Symphony No. 4 was scheduled for performance in December of 1936. Its contemporary technique and musical language was sure to draw the same kind of condemnation leveled at Lady Macbeth, but the composer was determined to advance the work. Though the circumstances surrounding the decision are not completely clear, the piece was pulled from the concert with a press release stating that this had been done at the composer’s request. Shostakovich would have to wait 25 years to finally hear the work.
The opening of the fourth is nothing short of a wake up call. Piercing woodwinds and percussion supported by violent string tremolos immediately transition into an insistent pulse featuring brass fanfare gestures. From the outset the ensemble’s energy and attention to detail were evident. Though the fourth calls for the largest orchestra of any of Shostakovich’s symphonies, the meticulous and challenging writing is transparent in even the largest tutti sections – and the technique of the symphony was on full display. The dazzling and devilish quasi fugato string passage that occurs near the end of the development was a highlight of the movement. Maestro Guerrero’s bright tempo allowed the string section a chance to show off, and the clarity of the gesture as it descended through the section was impressive. Despite the fireworks and extreme dynamic shifts displayed in the opening and revisited at the recapitulation, Shostakovich ends the movement with what might be described as an anti-climax shepherded by a slowly expanding rhythmic statement in the English horn as the emotional intensity of the long first movement dissipates, but is not forgotten.
The second movement begins with an initial thematic gesture that, along with a repetitive rhythmic statement, serves as the genesis for the majority of the thematic material. The theme begins in the strings and is eventually developed into an intervallic canon spaced across four registers of woodwinds before it explodes into a full woodwind tutti counterbalanced by soaring horns playing the secondary theme. While they aren’t directly connected thematically, the descending canonic treatment of this theme leading to the climactic statement of the horns recalls (at least for me) the blinding string fugato in the first movement.
The pace of the movement was well crafted by the ensemble, and the expansion of the woodwind canon (piccolo, flute, clarinet, bass clarinet) into what can only be described as a relentlessly driving woodwind reed organ, was masterful. The orchestration in this section is simply ingenious – creating a sense of cathartic arrival for the horn section’s emphatic theme. The climax quickly fades into another subdued ending featuring a “ticking” statement in the percussion and a soft but agitated reprisal of the original theme in the strings punctuated by a flutter tongue in the flute and piccolo and a single xylophone note.
Shostakovich’s final movement begins as a funeral march, but quickly defies any and all convention by featuring light-hearted waltzes, dance inspired passages, and even heroic statements – all in abrupt transitions of almost slapstick quality at times. Shostakovich’s bleak humor is on display in the movement, and the orchestra was agile enough to navigate these changes without sacrificing the individual character of any of these sections. According to the noted musicologist Robert Greenberg, satire and irony were “at the heart of Shostakovich’s secret expressive language” and this sense of irony is how “generations of Soviets maintained their sanity”. This ironic and sometimes satirical treatment is essential to Shostakovich’s music, and when required the orchestra presented the appropriate moments with the satirical whimsy or gravitas needed.
The conclusion of Symphony No. 4, like the ending of the first two movements, is somewhat subdued when compared to the bombast present in each of the individual movements. The impossibly soft sustain in the string section, and the repetitive arpeggiated gesture in the celeste, culminating in the final intervallic expansion of the celeste statement was nothing short of magical. Given the technical demands of the work and the soloistic nature of the writing, offering adequate praise to the efforts of individual musicians within the orchestra would require a much longer review than this one. But for me, the best moment of the evening was the slow musical exhale that constituted the end of the work. The audience was spellbound and sat in perfect silence for a full twenty seconds before acknowledging the ensemble.
To some, such a subdued ending may not square with the fear and rage that Shostakovich must have felt working under a repressive regime that threatened his life as well as his art. But in reference to the similar ending (also featuring celeste) of Shostakovich’s Symphony No. 13, Yevgeny Yevtushenko (the poet whose work “Babi Yar” inspired the 13th Symphony) commented, “…there is power in softness, there is strength in fragility.”
This is significant as Shostakovich’s dissent was perhaps most transparent in his Symphony No. 13, written during the “thaw”, but his true expression has been apparent to careful listeners since some of his earliest works. Without the repression, censorship, and fear he experienced surrounding Symphony No. 4, the triumph of his later works, specifically the clear defiance of his Symphony No. 13, might not have been as poignant. To borrow from Yevtushenko’s comments – the power present in vulnerability comes from our ability for empathy and is enhanced by the communicative nature of music. Symphony No. 4 is a true masterwork, and the Nashville Symphony’s commitment to music that is emotionally and artistically adventurous is inspiring.
It gives voice to the voiceless and can stand defiant in the face of seemingly unconquerable authority.
This is why art matters. It gives voice to the voiceless and can stand defiant in the face of seemingly unconquerable authority. The art that we produce and consume is a commentary on our humanity and all of its triumphs and sorrows. This was as true for Shostakovich as it is today for artists all over the world whose work is censored, banned, or punished. The fear and artistic constraints that haunted Shostakovich should not be dismissed as a relic of the Cold War era. This species of censorship and intimidation in the arts is still alive – and it must be confronted. Organizations like the Nashville Symphony are aiding in this effort by continuing to raise awareness through the programming of works that tackle important issues directly, and just as importantly by providing education and outreach allowing audiences to fully appreciate this art in context.
And for this, I say BRAVO to the Nashville Symphony – not only for a wonderful performance of an excellent and often neglected piece of music, but also for shining a light on the importance of art and its vital contribution to a well informed and free thinking public.
Nashville Ballet Presents
Romeo and Juliet
Two households, both alike in dignity,
In fair Verona, where we lay our scene…
So begins the most renowned tragedy by William Shakespeare. Two brought so close by love yet ripped from the world they dreamed together by the reality of their family’s damning feud. The opening scrim of the Nashville Ballet’s Romeo and Juliet, an image that will remain as the link throughout the entire production, shows two angels- one in white with red accents, one in blue- intertwined by golden cloth. In typical Renaissance artistic style, the rendering depicts movement with their eyes looking down upon the earth as the flowing of their robes suggest their ascent toward the heavens. Already evocative of the play’s opening lines, this image sets the stage for what is to come.
When the orchestra begins the introduction to Sergei Prokofiev’s suggestive score, the lush sound of the Nashville Symphony’s string section fills the hall. The lights dim, and the heroic figure of our Romeo (Nicholas Scheuer) is illuminated. Thus, the opening ensemble number is initiated, a rambunctious exposition to each character. Romeo courts the elusive Rosalind (Mollie Sansone), Mercutio (Gerald Watson) the fierce Amante (Katie Vasilopolous). Many things happen concurrently, but the stage is arranged beautifully to accommodate the hustle. With two platforms upstage and a staircase linking them, the audience can view multiple moving parts without confusion on the scene’s focus. As more townspeople enter the street, tensions rise between the inhabitants of Verona. Romeo remains unaware of anything but Rosalind, even when Mercutio and Benvolio (Luca Sportelli) begin to engage with Tybalt (Owen Thorne) and his Capulet counterparts. An elegant fight scene commences, and Romeo finally joins the fray.
Red-clad Capulets and blue-robed Montagues duel in group features before breaking into individual brawls. Clamor and chaos ensue, and within the thick of it, a child is killed. When the Prince arrives, the two families are forced to make peace, and the scene closes on the two patriarchs (Jon Upleger, Capulet; Shabaz Ujima, Montague) shaking their fists at one another from afar. From there, the story plays as expected. An exquisite Juliet (Kayla Rowser), donned in white, is introduced with choreography that exhibits her joyous naïvete as the Nurse (Emily Ireland-Buczek) prepares her for the party. The Capulet party allows a few wonderful spotlights. Not only is the ensemble opening to the “The Dance of the Knights” both raucous and stately, but the sultry dance between Tybalt and the Lady Capulet (Julia Eisen) highlight an unusual relationship that doesn’t appear in all Romeo and Juliet interpretations (the play on the Medieval idea of courtly love here is intriguing). When the Montague boys take the stage in taunting trio, Benvolio steals the show with impeccable grace and a round of pirouettes. This particular combination of dancers is an absolute delight to watch, sold by Scheuer’s dynamic charm, Watson’s sharp wit, and Sportelli’s stunning movement.
At this point of the production, it becomes abundantly clear that the color scheme is an entire character unto its own. The use of the detailed costuming is brilliant- in their meeting, Romeo is in the lightest possible hue of the Montague blue, and Juliet remains in a pure white with gold accents. Gold appears to be the most neutral of colors, with both Paris and the Prince enrobed in it. Tybalt sports the strongest red of the Capulets, furthering the point that his fire for the family feud burns brightest. However, the color is not just utilized in the costuming; the lighting and set design will change to reflect the side to which we should be paying attention. The starkest instance of this occurs at the beginning of the third act, when the scrim is illuminated with a fractured blend of red and blue. Romeo has just killed Tybalt and been sent to exile by the Prince. It is notated in our program that the next scene will take place in Juliet’s bedroom after they have just consummated their marriage, and as the orchestra begins to play, the shards of blue dim while the red remain vibrant.
The multiple pas de deux that occur between Romeo and Juliet are entrancing conversations that highlight Juliet’s excitement and Romeo’s exuberance. They are an endearing match with Rowser’s lithe playfulness and Scheuer’s eager passion. Scheuer plays a different Romeo to the smoldering tortured soul of DiCaprio- he feels each emotion so fully and so genuinely that watching him come to the realization of what he’d done to Tybalt in the second act, this strong and elegant figure breaking as he fell under the weight of it all, was truly heartbreaking. Rowser’s own fluidity between the confidence of an en pointe stance to a lowered and meek posture when in the presence of her parents only adds to her incredible technical performance. Another standout was the death of Mercutio. His preceding pas de deux with Amante (which becomes a humorous trio with Benvolio) is delightfully twisted through Vasilopolous’ strength in movement and Watson’s charisma. Watson then commands the stage through his joking about his wounds (I could almost hear the infamous “Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch”) to his powerful fall in the sign of the crucifix (the symbolism of the cross was rampant throughout the performance) as Tybalt watched on in jest. Thorne carried the role of villain well, smugly brushing off the errant booing from an audience member during the curtain call.
Prokofiev’s score plays like a narrator, giving the audience auditory cues to follow. He seemed to write in the dramatic irony that was rife throughout the third act. Unprecedented interjections and dissonances at cadential points of phrases during the love duet of Romeo and Juliet and the violin glissandi in the flute melody during Juliet’s brief pas de deux with Paris were especially sardonic. Also of note is the Russian composer’s experimentation with instrumentation- it’s not common to hear tenor saxophone or mandolin in an orchestral pit. The musicians of the Nashville Symphony achieved much in the almost continuous two hours of music: the musicality of the woodwind section in the introduction, the bassoon soli as the street livens, the principal flute’s delicacy when representing the innocent Juliet, the demanding horn fanfares during both the wedding and the funeral scenes, the Concertmaster’s beautiful solos throughout the ballet, and so many more.
In the introduction video to the production, artistic director Paul Vasterling speaks to the difficulty of adapting a show based on words into a nonverbal representation. “What we strive for in a ballet like Romeo and Juliet is to be able to tell this story through movement. There are no words. I want the audience to forget about that- to forget that there are no words.” From realistically stylized fight choreography to gorgeous, period-driven costuming, Romeo and Juliet succeeds in its mission. The marriage of the dancers’ emotive technique to a score dense with meaning, wrapped in beautifully crafted lighting plan and set design leaves the Nashville Ballet’s Romeo and Juliet a voice to speak for itself.
The Nashville Ballet returns on October 10th through the 14th with a production of Prokofiev’s Peter and the Wolf.
At OZ Arts Presents
Instant Standing Ovation: “Electric…Profound…Beautiful”
Experiencing contemporary art can sometimes feel like stepping foot into the unknown: one must be patient
and open your mind to the possibilities of what humans can create. Avant-garde Japanese artist Hiroaki Umeda brought to OZ Arts an unabashed contemporary presentation that feels like a fluid, sensorial experience mixed with fierce commotion that breaks the boundaries between body, light, and sound. Patience and open-mindedness are a virtue here. This is artistic director Mark Murphy’s first international guest to visit OZ Arts, and Umeda is truly an artist that encapsulates today’s contemporary art field.
Umeda began the evening with ‘split flow’. He is small, compact, and very still. A slow build, the dance begins with movements of various speeds. These eventually grow to something greater, while he is also expressing his velocity with light. How Umeda can fill the space and create an experience that pulls the viewer away from reality is striking. And the piece, ultimately, is exploring two distinct physical conditions – one that is dynamic and one that is static. With the intervention of body into static space, a different reality can be created with every stroke that the artist makes, every variation of light that paints the artist, and every sound that infiltrates the space.
Eventually, the listener can discern that the sounds are of different mass – whether it be water, oil, or air. And
that is just how sound can influence the space it enters, the body can also influence the space around it. The bursting yet tranquil light will make itself known and stop a scene in its tracks. Meanwhile, the glaring sounds will fight back and alter reality once more. And the dance of it all is just that: several mediums encountering, coexisting and influencing each other into totality. It’s satisfying knowing there’s no plan or motive to be had – but instead, various realities that pull the viewer in because of this entrancing dance.
These same workings are explored in the harmonious second piece, ‘Holistic Strata’, where “the common denominator of all movement is expressed in the distortion of hundreds of pixels.” The work is daring even by
contemporary standards. It’s as if Umeda has this entire dance coursing through his veins, and the utter cool factor of it all is what Nashville’s contemporary scene truly craves. Engulfed in swarms of pixels, the dancer’s
physicality is ultimately influenced by the varied world that the pixels create throughout the space. But the viewer perceives that the dancer’s body can just as easily manipulate the universe around him even as it is influencing the dancer.
This back-and-forth between chaos and synchrony can be interpreted in numerous ways. Ultimately, Umeda is creating a living organism that challenges the senses, and the result is chilling. Yes, the viewer can easily sit idly by and not give the pandemonium much thought, but what’s the fun in that? Just as Umeda creates and alters this mysterious world he created, he also challenges us: to experience sensations preceding the materialization of emotions. This is the oddness of it all, as well as the beauty.
Nashville Symphony News
Nashville Symphony Presents Beyond the Score®: Shostakovich’s Fourth – Is Music Dangerous?
The Nashville Symphony’s 2019/20 Classical Series resumes on September 27-28 at Schermerhorn Symphony Center with Beyond the Score®: Shostakovich’s Fourth – Is Music Dangerous?, a program centered around Dmitri Shostakovich’s Fourth Symphony that uniquely blends history and music for newcomers and aficionados alike.
Developed and licensed by the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, Beyond the Score® offers audiences a look into some of the classical repertoire’s most important composers and works through a multimedia experience that weaves together theater, music and video to tell the compelling stories that helped shape the music’s creation.
The Nashville Symphony’s performances open with a presentation exploring how the social and political climate in the Soviet Union influenced Shostakovich as he was composing the Fourth, complete with a live actor portraying the composer, a narrator, on-screen photos and videos, and musical excerpts performed by the orchestra. Following intermission, Music Director Giancarlo Guerrero leads the Nashville Symphony’s first-ever full performance of the entire Fourth Symphony.
About the Program
The Fourth is considered Shostakovich’s most experimental and profound symphony, and it still shocks to this day with its ferocious power and bleak honesty. Strongly influenced by Gustav Mahler, the work features the largest orchestration Shostakovich used in any of his 15 symphonies. But the music is only part of the story of this masterpiece, which came about during a dangerous time in Soviet Russia, when artists and intellectuals faced the threat of Joseph Stalin’s purges.
Shostakovich was already an international sensation before the Fourth. He composed his First Symphony as his graduation piece from the Petrograd Conservatory when he was only 19, and his opera Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk District became a smash hit in Moscow and Leningrad in the mid-1930s. Despite its public success, the opera drew the ire of Stalin, who reportedly walked out of a performance two years after it premiered.
A January 1936 article about the opera, titled “Muddle instead of Music,” appeared in the official Communist Party newspaper Pravda further exacerbated Shostakovich’s plight, labeling the composer an example of a “dangerous trend” in Soviet music that was “distorting” the ideals of true Socialism.
From Victor Seroff’s translation:
“The composer apparently never considered the problem of what the Soviet audience looks for and expects in music. As though deliberately, he scribbles down his music, confusing all the sounds in such a way that his music would reach only the effete “formalists” who had lost all their wholesome taste. He ignored the demand of Soviet culture that all coarseness and savagery be abolished from every corner of Soviet life. Some critics call the glorification of the merchants’ lust a satire. But there is no question of satire here. The composer has tried, with all the musical and dramatic means at his command, to arouse the sympathy of the spectators for the coarse and vulgar inclinations and behavior of the merchant woman Katerina Izmailova.”
The article – published when composer had completed the bulk of the Fourth Symphony – put Shostakovich in a perilous position. People crossed the street to avoid him, and he allegedly kept a suitcase packed with warm clothing and sturdy shoes in anticipation of being shipped off to a gulag in Siberia.
Despite the Pravda attack, he pushed on and completed the Fourth in the spring of 1936. The premiere was scheduled for that December with the Leningrad Philharmonic, but Shostakovich pulled the piece during rehearsals. There is rampant speculation surrounding the withdrawal, the prevailing theory being that the state exerted pressure on the Leningrad Philharmonic and forced the orchestra’s manager to cancel the premiere.
Underlying this belief, biographer Laurel Fay noted that “given the political and aesthetic climate of the time, there seems very little doubt that even in a flawless performance the massive…work would have been construed as…an act in arrogant defiance of the Party’s benevolent guidance.”
Shostakovich did earn a temporary reprieve from the overbearing political pressure with his triumphant Fifth Symphony in late 1937, but the threat of making a false step remained throughout his career, and the state’s “disappearing” of the Fourth deeply affected him: “I was afraid,” he recalled years later. “Fear was a common feeling for everyone then, and I didn’t miss my share. The danger horrified me, and I saw no way out…. It was a low that wiped out my past. And my future. The terrible pre-war years. That is what my symphonies, beginning with the Fourth, are about.”
It was not until December 30, 1961, well after Stalin’s death, that the Fourth finally premiered.
Tickets for Beyond the Score may be purchased:
- Online at NashvilleSymphony.org/BeyondTheScore
- Via phone at 615.687.6400
- At the Schermerhorn Symphony Center Box Office, One Symphony Place in downtown Nashville
Full program notes, a Spotify playlist and video of Giancarlo Guerrero discussing the program, can be found at: https://www.nashvillesymphony.org/beyondthescore.
