Playing "new" music

As I alluded to in my previous post, I recently performed Walter Piston's Serenata, a nice little work--very Piston--with changing time signatures, rhythmic vitality, and tonal-ish feel to it. Also on that concert: Prokofiev's "Classical" symphony, Bach's Brandenburg concerto no. 3, and Wieniawski's second violin concerto.

The orchestra is located in a community that sits halfway between Seattle and Tacoma. The audience is small but loyal, and I suspect would much prefer Bach (and Mozart and Beethoven) to Piston and Prokofiev. (We're doing Stravinsky's Dumbarton Oaks on a forthcoming concert--I'll let you know how that goes). The conductor likes to talk before each piece. A lot. We started with the Bach and followed it with the Piston. Before the Piston, the gist of his comments were "You're not going to like this piece, but here's why you should like it." This bothers me for two reasons. First, he assumes that everyone in the audience is opposed to "new" (that is, 60-year-old) music.Even if they're not, he basically predisposes them not to like it before they ever hear it. Second, he implied that if, after hearing it, you still don't like it, then there must be something wrong with you.

I'm not a huge fan of conductors talking before pieces, except on rare occasions. Both times I saw Messiaen's Turangalila live, the conductor gave a brief talk, asking the pianist, orchestra, and ondes martenot player to demonstrate a few things, talking about Messiaen's unique aesthetic, and so on. I think that's the kind of piece that benefits from a little explanation and (perhaps more importantly) demonstration. The second performance, which I saw last year in Seattle, was outstanding, and received an ovation like I haven't seen in a while. (I saw it in Philadelphia probably 15 years ago and don't remember too much about that performance).

Now it could be that everyone in a packed Benaroya Hall was there because they knew and loved Messiaen and/or Turangalilia. I suspect that the demonstration and explanation helped those less familiar with the piece. But the real key was that the orchestra sold the piece. I think the ovation would have been equally as enthusiastic if there had been no explanation beforehand.

Here's the thing:: I think we sold the Piston--the slow movement in particular was gorgeous. Had the conductor not said a word beforehand, I think the audience would have embraced the piece. (Perhaps he was using reverse psychology?)

I played another concert (on the same day as the Piston concert) with another orchestra: Tchaik violin concerto, Wagner prelude to act 3 of Lohengrin, and Waldteufel's Skater's Waltz--all warhorses, the kinds of pieces audiences love to see/hear. Also on the program: Hindemith's Symphonic Metamorphosis, another "modern" piece. The conductor of this ensemble told us in rehearsal that they had received calls asking that the orchestra not play "modern" music like Hindemith. His charge to us: sell the piece--if we look like we're in to it and enjoying it, the audience will too.

I love contemporary music: I'd sooner listen to Webern (I know--not really contemporary anymore, but I would argue, more challenging to listen to than a lot of actual contemporary composers) than Vivaldi.* I don't care what you like or don't like. If you leave the concert and don't like Piston, or Tchaikovsky, or Hindemith, or Waldteufel, I don't care. Come with an open mind, give it a chance--give the orchestra a chance to sell it--and make your decision afterward.

(A brief aside: when I was young, I used to like to go to clubs where they played "industrial" music. I had a great time dancing, hanging out, being with my friends, etc. I bought some CDs of that music, and it was terrible to listen to. There was something about the experience that made me enjoy the music more. I think a live performance of a piece by Piston might end up being more enjoyable to some music fans than listening to a recording at home.)

*I do enjoy Giuliano Carmignola's performances of Vivaldi because I think he really sells them.

Practicing away from your instrument