Wednesday, May 04, 2005
Radiohead in 88 keys?
Yes. I saw it last Thursday when I ventured out to Joe's Pub in the East Village to catch the pianist Christopher O'Riley playing Radiohead. I have to confess with slight embarrassment that I am completely unfamiliar with Radiohead's music, but know they're popular among many classical musicians. At any rate, I was a bit skeptical about the concert from the beginning. Rock music transcribed for piano? (Well, Matt Haimovitz made a version of Jimi Hendrix's rendering of the "Star Spangled Banner," so maybe it'll work.) As I sat and waited for the show to start, I began wondering why people were here. Were they Radiohead fans? Christopher O'Riley fans? Or classical music fans interested in how a fellow artist is reaching out to new audiences? I belonged to the latter category, while the rest of the crowd seemed to be in the first.
When O'Riley began his set--the second of two for the night--I retained my initial skepticism. After the third tune he began to talk to the audience about the music, about transcribing it for the piano, about esoteric Radiohead knowledge (he asked for hands in the crowd for who was the biggest Radiohead nerd, which O'Riley himself ended up being proudly), and his love for the music. O'Riley simply loves Radiohead. So much so that he transcribes all their music for piano. And his love for the music comes out in his playing of it. The next few tunes, actually, the rest of the set, sounded a lot different to me than the first few tunes. Maybe he wasn't warmed up. Or maybe I began to understand what he was doing. My friend Evan told me that timbre is a big part of Radiohead's music and that he was curious about how this would translate to the piano. There's color in O'Riley's playing. I didn't once miss the drums on any tune (well, since I didn't know them, how could I miss them?). There were moments when I was completely transfixed by the music and by O'Riley's delivery of it.
I think I was a bit cold to O'Riley's idea at first because I had already made some assumptions before the show. O'Riley is a concert pianist so he'd probably make the arrangements piano-y, like with lots of arpeggiations, virtuosic flourishes, and so on, right? Wrong. There's no fancy piano stuff in these arrangements--just the music. And honestly, I was relieved when I realized that this wasn't going to be a show-off-my-piano-chops kind of event. The truth is that this kind of playing requires its own kind of virtuosity and intamacy with the music that not every artist could pull off. (Kind of like a classical musician who thinks jazz is easy trying to swing.) But Christopher O'Riley pullls it off convincingly.
While you won't catch me playing the complete The Clash at CBGB anytime soon, I think O'Riley is on to something in terms of bringing his art to a larger audience in a pretty cool venue. Gone were the traditional concert conventions and I think people might have been a little happier because of it. In this setting, people were free to chat if they felt like it, sneeze and not be glared at, eat tiramisu out of a martini glass, and go to the bathroom in the middle of a piece. That's cool and this kind of looseness in no way implies that the artist on stage is compromising his artistic integrity. I don't know if a crowd like this would be hip to a Milton Babbitt, Charles Wuorinen, or Iannis Xenakis joint, but I wouldn't put it past them. It could work. I can think of one or two ways. (Coming soon . . . Hybrid Groove Project.)
P.S. Listen to O'Riley on NPR's Performance Today.
posted by Brian Sacawa
12:06 AM
Monday, May 02, 2005
Temirkanov: Pros and Cons
In her review of the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra at Carnegie Hall, Anne Midgette asks a question and then answers it. Question: In today's world, what is the function of midsize American Orchestras like the Baltimore? Answer (or, part of the answer): "An orchestra like the Baltimore must . . . serve a museum function, presenting the famous classical pieces its audience wants to hear." As a former Baltimore resident, I think the orchestra is beginning to serve mostly a museum function (their abundant pops programming notwithstanding).
Even though the Baltimore Symphony still received praise for its playing of a more recent work (Giya Kancheli's Lonesome), since Temirkanov replaced David Zinman at the helm, the group's programming has certainly moved toward the conservative side. I lived in Baltimore when the shift happened. I loved Zinman's programs--his focus on new American works, his energy, and his ease with the audience as he frequently talked informally with the crowd about the piece that was to be played. When Temirkanov took over, everything changed. The programming turned from adventuresome new works to tried and true warhorses. In stark contrast to Zinman's warm, outgoing personality and stage prsence, Temirkanov was cold and dry. Maybe that's what Baltimore wanted. Maybe that's what they needed to sell more tickets. Despite what the political polls tell you, the Baltimore-D.C. area is rather conservative--musically, at least.
The New York Times is usually quite critical of Mr. Temirkanov and Ms. Midgette continues that tradition, noting "he has not achieved a particularly meaningful connection with [the Baltimore] players." I'm not so sure that's entirely his fault. It might not be his fault at all and I would probably place more blame on the players for this fact than on the Maestro. I had the great fortune to perform under Mr. Temirkanov's baton recently, only not with the Baltimore Symphony, but the St. Petersburg Philharmonic (Russia, not Florida). (I played Rachmaninoff's Symphonic Dances, which contains one of the most beautiful saxophone melodies in the entire repertoire.) I'm apt to blame the Baltimore players and not Temirkanov because of what occurred on stage with the St. Petersburg Phil. Temirkanov absolutely owned this orchestra. There was simply no question that this was his group. I had never heard such a large ensemble play so together. And anyone that knows Temirkanov's conducting, knows that he often eschews a little clarity to turn a phrase just the right way. The St. Petersburg players read his every twitch, sometimes even seeming to read his mind. I was blown away by the artistry and focus he exuded during the performance. Temirkanov gets a bad rap sometimes, but maybe with the Baltimore Symphony, it's not entirely under his control.
posted by Brian Sacawa
1:36 PM
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Praised by The New York Times as "an inventive musician . . . fresh and surprising," saxophonist Brian Sacawa has firmly established himself as an important contemporary voice for his instrument. He is active as a soloist, recitalist, and chamber musician throughout the United States and is the co-founder of the new music duo Non-Zero with percussionist Timothy Feeney.
He has given premieres of over thirty works by both established and emerging composers, including Michael Gordon, Bright Sheng, Andrew Mead, Oliver Schneller, Ken Ueno, Beata Moon, Hillary Zipper, and Scott McAllister, among many others. Named the Baltimore CITYPAPER’s Critic’s Choice for Classical Music in 2002, he is the recipient of awards for solo performance from both national and international competitions.
Sacawa's versatile career has led to appearances with the St. Petersburg Philharmonic, the Detroit Symphony Orchestra, the New World Symphony, Harvard Group for New Music, New Music Brandeis, Bargemusic, and at meetings of the ISU Contemporary Music Festival, World Saxophone Congress, North American Saxophone Alliance, and New England Saxophone Symposium.
Brian holds degrees from the University of Michigan, the Peabody Conservatory, and the University of Massachusetts – Amherst, where he studied with Donald Sinta, Gary Louie, and Lynn Klock. He has recorded for the Equililbrium, Naxos, and BiBimBop recording labels.
See Brian's other blog
Sounds Like Now
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