There must be recorders in hell.....

Went out to a concert tonight, chamber music at Bourgie. The theme was Romantic Baroque, so Vivaldi, Handel, Telemann, but they invited a pair of recorder players. I know that recorders are pretty integral to a lot of Baroque music, but I loathe them (and harpsichords for that matter). Apologies to all who love them, but they attack every nerve in my body and turn me into a rabid dog, the sound agitates and irritates me until I want to scream or pass out to end the agony.

The bits when they weren't playing were good, a few of the Vivaldi concertos for two violins were quite nice and the Telemann Don Quixote also very lively and warm. But then the recorders kept coming back for more, the tall guy pulling out all the stops and playing a solo that was the Baroque equivalent of Hendrix wowing the audience. It was very impressive in its difficulty and execution I know, but it was all I could do not to rush the stage with my program and papercut his lip. Later on the whole thing became quite amusing when they were both playing flesh-coloured thicker alto recorders with bulbous, creamy tips. I'd never noticed what they looked like before and the enthusiastic bouncing and swaying almost brought on a giggle fit that would have had me kicked out of the hall. If my ears had not been bleeding, I'm sure I would not have made it through.

I am tired of living on canape classical - other than the opening children's concert I haven't been to the OSM or seen my boyfriend and the OM all season. I miss the power of a full orchestra and the kind of sound that pins you to the seat and sticks its tongue right down your throat. I'm tired of being tickled by the occasional arpeggio or fondled by a concerto grosso. I want a symphony,  to be slowly seduced and teased and delighted through the opening and allegretto, heightened to a flush in the scherzo, and brought to a frenzy in the finale, breathless and gasping and spent.
I need a good symphonic you-know-what....

New concert hall - OSM

September 11 was the inaugural children's concert for Montreal's newest concert hall. Five years after the project was approved, and 266 million dollars later, La Maison Symphonique is open for business! I bought our tickets in June, some of the last available in the balcony, and waited all summer in anticipation of the opening. I read the less-than-stellar reviews of the grand opening first show and Beethoven's ninth, but was not discouraged, and on the Sunday I got everyone dressed up and we headed downtown. By the time we got there, the kids and I were pretty excited. There was a lot of activity around the area with the Marathon des Arts festival happening at Quartier des Spectacles, with free tours of the hall being held to draw people in.

Approaching the hall, it is obvious that the building is not finished. Bare plywood and make-shift ramps are everywhere and the windows at the back reveal insulation, ducts, pipes, and general construction. Inside, the reception areas are sparsely furnished and airy. The spaces do not appear as large as Salle Willfrid Pelletier though, which makes me wonder how the traffic around the bars during intermissions will fair. Narrower stairs and escalators reside where I think that a wide staircase should have been. Elevators are also present, and the design seems beautifully thought out for wheelchair accessibility. I also spied some back stairs which will be no doubt ugly but will afford an easier escape. Both kids were delighted with the open space, running around an empty top reception level before heading into the concert hall. The glass walls made the space during a matinee bright and the hanging wooden sculptures are charming and set the tone for inside. The inside of the concert hall is finished, and is beautiful despite the outgassing of wood and upholstery. The light beech wood contrasted with the metal is clean and modern and a dramatic change from the weight and dark of Place des Arts, although I question the creamy white seat fabric which may be overly hopeful and ill-though-out by the designers.

We found our seats and settled near the middle at the top of the hall. Even on the balcony, the stage does not seem as distant as the older hall. And the view is impressive indeed: 1900 seats and room for 120 musicians and 200 singers. The choir area can also be used for spectators, and being able to surround the performers allows for more seating and makes the music more of a community event. Everything about the new design seems more relaxed and casual and inviting. The concert began without a lot of ceremony and Nagano appeared with two young female pianists, one his daughter, for the Saint-Saen's Carnival of the Animals. Naomi's attention was very short-lived, and I had to start hissing at her almost immediately, but Ben and I were entranced and I tried as much as possible to point out which animals were being imitated so they could follow along. Peter and the Wolf was next and Naomi was constantly asking what was happening, sometimes quite loudly as I tried to quietly translate the narration for her. The last was a ballet by Debussy which was performed by École supérieure de ballet du Québec students and which was simply too long to hold the attention of children, or adults for that matter. In addition to the restless youngsters, I saw more than one parent checking their smartphones. I think opting for a shorter excerpt from a ballet and finishing with a more dramatic musical selection would have been more appropriate for the audience. I still remember the thrill my children got from the Queen of the Night's aria last year and going back many years to another children's concert, the Star Wars theme which left small boys humming down the stairs enthusiastically and perhaps considering a career in music.

Now, the sound. Yes, it is not life changing. In my opinion, it will take about a year to tune the room completely. I don't think that this is a failure, it is a process. There is simply no way to perfect a sound for every size orchestra and every type of music and different audience sizes without playing in the hall and tweeking. The sound baffles (nine motorized canopies that move individually) are designed to be adjusted and the hall was acoustically well planned, so even though there will have to be some changes made, eventually the sound will evolve to meet the expectations of the conductors and the audience members. I didn't find the sound muddy, but from the balcony it was dulled, and didn't seem to hit the audience with enough resonance. I want to sit in different areas and see what else is happening on lower levels of the room. Luckily, I think that the initial reviews may mean that tickets will be readily available this season, hopefully at discounts.

A night at the opera: La Boheme - we laughed, and laughed some more.....

Last week I went to my first live, full-length opera.
Up until a few years ago, I was not an opera fan, although my exposure had only been the Bugs Bunny versions from Saturday mornings. I liked the music, but it just wasn't something that I was interested in going to watch-a bunch of people singing in languages I didn't know being overly dramatic all over the stage, visions of fat ladies in viking helmets, it just didn't appeal.
Then Ben took an interest in opera and things changed. He was three or four when I picked him up from daycare and he was humming an aria from Carmen. We encourage every interest, so I dived into the internet and started reading all the opera stories (frick most of them are sad) and we got opera cds and listened to them. I talked to my friends who were opera fans and got them to tell me about performers and the background of the operas and the history. I went to a couple of Live at the Met performances at the movie theatre, and took Ben to see the Carmen Met show a couple of years ago which we both enjoyed, although Ben might still have fonder memories of the licorice and the announcer for the evening, Rene Flemming.
So I've been meaning to go to the opera for a while, but haven't gotten around to it, when suddenly it all came together- Guislaine and Adriana were both available and the opera was a classic - La Boheme. Can't go wrong with that, really. We got our tickets in the nosebleeds (or as Adriana pointed out, the hip and young section) and on Wednesday night we met outside the entrance. We dressed for the occasion, really, what's the fun in not making it an occasion considering the price of the tickets, and went in and climbed stairs, and stairs, and more stairs. We actually had good seats near the middle and an excellent view of the stage. Guislaine and Adriana told stories of previous opera shows (the one about opera at the Big O was hilarious) and finally the lights dimmed. Show time!
La Boheme is supposed to be pretty sad, but it starts relatively happy - starving artists joking around, deciding to go out, a romance between Rodolfo and Mimi (they call me Mimi, I don't know why) that is engineered by the guy pretending he can't find her key and blowing out his candle to make it darker - sly devil, and then a big scene at the Cafe Momus with the introduction of Musetta and the strange appearance of a toy maker, Parpignol, for really no reason. They make a big deal about it though. When the scene ended, the lights came up and we talked about it. First, the translations, in French and English which sometimes didn't match and Adriana said didn't always convey the Italian. Sometimes they were downright funny. Then we joked about the romantic scene and how fast that moved along and then the mysterious toy maker. What was the deal with him? Guislaine suggested we should write a sequel just about him, perhaps with his toys coming to life and going on a rampage through the rest of the opera, and thus © La Boheme 2 - Parpignol's Revenge was born. Just when you thought it was safe to go back to the opera...... Honestly, he doesn't appear in the rest of the opera, what is the big deal with him?
Great fun, then the next act starts at the gates and Marcello talking to Mimi and Mimi telling him how jealous and awful Rodolfo is being. Then she hides and listens when Rodolfo and Marcello are talking and finds out he feels bad about making her stay at his cold flat and that she's dying, which surprisingly she doesn't realise, which was kind of funny. Then she's discovered because of all that coughing (amazing that she can sing), she tells him she's going back to her place (the translation here is "goodbye, no hard feelings" which has now become a catch phrase for the three of us) and they confusingly agree to stay together until the Spring. I've heard all of the music in the past, but this was the first time I was reading a translation as it was going along. Mimi's "Donde lieta uscì" is beautiful to hear, but I was amused to find out that she is basically singing about her hat.
More discussion during the set change: what the hell was the whole staying together until Spring about? And seriously, how is she surprised when Rodolfo says that she's dying?
Final act- The guys are both missing their ladies and singing about it, then they all start horsing around which was really well done and nice and light. Then Musetta rushes in with Mimi who is on her last legs and the whole thing gets pretty sad from there. Colline's song about his coat is a bit odd, but I guess he needed something to sing about. Her death is sort of subtle, she doesn't die while singing, she just quietly passes while the other characters are mourning her imminent demise and praying. While it was sad, it didn't really bring out a lot of emotion in me. This could be the young age of the cast or the direction, but for someone who cries at dog food commercials, I was shockingly tearless at the end. Still, it was a wonderful night, with beautiful music, good friends, lots of laughing, and ended with burgers and fries in our fancy clothes at midnight.
I'm doing that again!

Another wonderful concert on Tuesday. A week before, I went to see Nagano conducting Liszt and Shostakovich which was pretty fantastic and made more so by a cheap last-minute seat in O right down the middle. This Tuesday I went to a show entitled The Evolution of the Symphony. Gabrieli, Bach, Webern, Stravinski, and finished with Beethoven's Fifth. The Fifth is near the top of my list. I am always amazed at the vibration that runs through me every time I hear it performed. Not a single note is wasted and the recurring themes running through become familiar but never expected. The energy in the hall was sensational and made my heart race. To make it even better, I was there with a person who is like a perfect symphony to me.
This is the last month of concerts in this hall after 47 years. Nagano gave a short speech without a mic, making the moment seem intimate. He spoke with emotion about the attachment to the hall, while looking ahead to the new space. Then, he announced an encore of Gabriel Faure, turned and began conducting Siciliene! So light and lovely and clean. After that was Berlioz's Le Corsaire, which I didn't know and only discovered later when reading the newspaper review. The reviewer also said that these two pieces were a classy gesture to Charles Dutoit, which after it was pointed out to me made sense, but went totally over my head at the concert. He complained about the incessant coughing of the audience. This past year they have strategically placed large bowls of Ricolas outside the entrances, but let's face it - the average age of the season ticket holders is still 200 or something. There are many younger people showing up, but we do stare out from our cheaper seats into a sea of white heads, that's reality. MSO, how about making tickets cheaper for people under 50 instead of under 30? I'm just saying.....many of us do not require oxygen tanks and would love a break on the prices so we could come more and probably start bringing our kids.

I want to write something longer about this, but can't right now.
Today was stressful, and all I could think about doing at the end of the day was coming home and playing piano.
And I did and everything felt better, or at least more right, and I don't know why it makes me so happy, but it does.

I am so in love with music right now....

Just finished listening to all six of Bach's Cello Suites performed by Jean-Guihen Queyras. His playing was marvelous - lively and crisp, playing that tore at my soul and then lifted it into the sky. I sat there in awe that anyone could store this much beauty in his head and bring it out from his fingertips. At the first break, Adriana turned to me and asked how anyone who is able to play something like that can get on with their day like a normal person. How many hundreds of hours of practise did it take to create so much wonderfulness that sang in my ears and thrilled me? I got out floating, wanting to hug the world and take it all into my heart.
It has been quite a week.

Ok.....

Admittedly, the snow is far less fun when I have to shovel out my car.
We just had our first storm yesterday - 15cm and gusting winds that created snow drifts over my knees in my front walk.

After work I headed down to Place des Arts and got a great last minute for the MSO. Bach, Brahms, and Bruckner. I almost didn't go, preferring to hibernate at home, but I parked underground to avoid any more car cleaning for the evening. The first half was lovely- but depressing if you knew what the contralto was singing, "O Tod, wie bitter bist du". Cheery. It ended with one of those Bach pieces that I hum a lot, Sleepers Awake. I rarely remember what it is, but it's catchy. The lady two seats over had on way too much perfume. The second half was Bruckner's ninth, unfinished. The second movement is very intense, emotional outbursts that then pivot into passages of calm. Nagano is so different from YNS, more controlling (but nothing like Dutoit was) and sometimes leaves the audience unsure of when it's ended.
Last Saturday I went to hear Bach's violin concertos and the Thursday before was a night of Bach and Ravel (with my lovely Yannick Nezet-Seguin). Tomorrow night is cello suites, I feel spoiled to have access to so much wonderful sound - it fills my ears and heart and gives me those moments of stillness and peace and awe that we all need to clear our psyches.



As usual, there are a few things on my mind. A few people in my life that I hold very close to my heart have given me some things to think about. I thought that I knew what makes me happy, but as events unfold, it seems that I do not know myself very well at all. I am surprised by where I find happiness and what that means about me and what I need. Perhaps what I am searching for is more of a state of grace within myself than a manifestation of it in another, and the patience, forgiveness, and understanding that I am slowly adopting (Rome wasn't built in a day people) is making it easier to love it all.

A little more music

On Saturday the kids and I went to an informal concert at the St Henri town hall. It was the Serenade Chamber Orchestra, a small group of young performers and part-time musicians formed in 1989. I missed a concert they gave at Notre-Dame de Bonsecours in March, so I was happy to find out that they were doing this one, and it was a perfect place to bring the kids. Other families showed up with young children, so it felt nicely informal. And there were doughnuts, so really it couldn't get any better.



On the menu: Vivaldi, Brahms, Bartok, and Beethoven. They were also supposed to play some Bruckner, but the conductor explained that they didn't have enough time to practise it, so we all voted to hear a bit of the Bartok again.



Naomi got a bit antsy and started wandering and dancing which was fine as long as I made sure she didn't spin into one of the cellists we were sitting behind. Ben listened and then occupied himself with a superhero figure of some sort (when he didn't have his finger in his nose, sigh).



It was just long enough and then we went home and had lunch and enjoyed some quiet time and then some play time. Hopefully we will find more activities like this over the summer, they are getting to the age where I can bring them to things like this and we can all enjoy it and talk about it.

A little music

After work I headed down to PdA and grabbed a last minute seat for the MSO. I was expecting a balcony ticket, but got one on the corbeille for $25 tax in. The lady on my left smelled vaguely of pancakes, the overly-tall fellow on my right (with binoculars) smelled a bit like Richard....still miss the way he smells... yes, pathetic, moving on.
Kent Nagano was in da house (ok, I'll stop that), which was entertaining for the flying hair alone. The program started with the premiere of a new piece by Gilles Tremblay. Tremblay was in da house (ok, I'll really stop this time, I promise!), and Nagano addressed him and told him what a personal influence he'd been growing up. It was touching, and I understood every word thanks to Nagano's anglo accent speaking French. The piece was commissioned by Radio France, L'Origine, for mezzo-soprano and orchestra.
Well, I didn't get it, or maybe I should say it wasn't my style. It had energy, but it was cacophonous, meant to be a commentary on society I suppose. According to the words the soprano was singing (she was lovely by the way, but hard to hear), the message was supposed to be positive, but I, and I have to say my seatmates, were not impressed. There was one woman in the front who loved it, but I'm pretty sure she would have given a standing ovation to paint on a wall. When you have all these instruments that can make such beautiful sounds, why waste your time producing something that sounds like a city street? You could go outside for that.

Now Beethoven, he knew what to do with an orchestra. Till Fellner was the guest pianist and impressed the pants off us with Piano Concerto no 1 in C major. It was a truly memorable main event. He'll be back playing the Orford festival according to the program.

The evening ended with some Brahms, lulling in the middle to the point of making me drowsy, but then a nice smashy, conductor crazy flying hair, all the string musicians pulling out the last ounce of energy from their arm muscles, ending.
And another highlight of my evening - I parked in a spot that wouldn't let me pay - the machine said that I couldn't park there, but it wasn't marked, and I didn't get a ticket, so free parking!

Sing, sing, sing

Like a sky without stars, like a meadow without flowers, such is a soul without love.

I went to my first full opera Saturday - Simon Boccanegra at the Met. Ok, so I wasn't really at the Met, but something equally interesting.
The Met broadcasts live performances of some of its shows to movie theatres across North America in HD. For $26, you can reserve a seat and show up at your local cineplex and see someone like Placido Domingo singing his heart out. In addition, you also get backstage interviews with the performers, plot synopses, and you get to watch them changing the sets behind the curtains - how cool is that? I've listened to parts of a few shows like this on CBC Radio 2, but I'd never seen one. Liz, my opera expert friend, got the tickets and gave me lots of background guidance on the singers and Italian history which helped a lot. I read the plot on the Internet and felt reasonably certain I wouldn't get lost. I didn't know if I would get bored or annoyed with an entire opera, but I'm happy to say that I found it entirely entertaining. The music was lovely, I've heard some bits of Aida, but I'd never heard of this opera before Liz suggested it. The soprano was a bit much, but the baritone and the bass were so smooth and soothing and rich sounding. It's the kind of sound you want to keep in your pocket and bring out when your ears need a hug. Yeah, I know that sounds weird.
It's not the same as going to a live performance (I hope to rectify that soon), but it's a fantastic way to enjoy the music and performance in a way that I think has more mass appeal. It's an inventive idea, I'd love to know who came up with the idea to try it. The only danger might be a drop in ticket sales for local, live opera. My friend told me that next year she's buying tickets for the Met series instead of O de M season seats.
I've never been an opera fan, other than Bugs Bunny. When my son took an interest a couple of years ago I decided that I would make an effort to learn more and listen and find out what entranced him about the music. Since then I've come to appreciate it way more than I used to (although so many of the stories are so freakin' sad!) and when Ben hums something from Carmen in the backseat, I can hum along with him.
I can't wait until he's a bit older and can handle the length of a performance so I can take him. And we can have popcorn!

Heart, mind, deed, life

Help, I have a cantata stuck in my head.....

First concert of 2010

Concert last night, hooray for a half-price special!
Haydn, Strauss, a Canadian composer name Staniland. Staniland kept the percussionists busy with little chimes and dings, not sure if it was supposed to be representative of ice, but bits were quite pretty. The Haydn was so nice I almost drifted off to sleep. The concert featured the OSM Standard Life grand prize winner, Jan Lisiecki on piano performing Chopin. He was remarkable, and he's 14! He walked out on to the stage, gangly and smiling, and blew the audience away. He's already won several competitions and it was incredible to watch his fingers flying over the keys and imagining what his life has in store for him. We are all full of potential, but it always amazes me when I see people who have accomplished so much at so young an age. It makes me wonder that if we were able to find the thing that makes our hearts sing at age 5, would we all be these incredible creatures?
There were two old ladies sitting next to me last night and their commentary and conversation between the music was annoying and amusing. They seem to go to just about every "cultural" event in town, and were both trying to sound so bored about it. They were debating quietly about whether the Strauss was any good, but the orchestra was playing Haydn and hadn't gotten to the Strauss yet. Why would you even go to a concert if you feel like that? You could just stay home and watch American Idol.
I don't know a lot about classical music, but I love watching the orchestra. I love seeing how they sit while they play their instruments, how they carefully put them down and pick them up, how some of them are so animated and others barely move, watching the horns clear their spit valves, and the percussionists! They stand quietly at the back and then explode, and then wait and wait, I don't know how they have the patience. How can you stand there with a cymbal in each hand and not bang them together compulsively like one of those wind-up monkeys?
I think there may be a reason why I was never in band......

A church and some Bach

Went to a great concert at a church last night. I almost never go into churches for obvious reasons (flame retardant clothing is expensive and generally not stylish), but when I do go in I always regret not having had a peek before. This city has so many churches, and I should really get around to seeing a few more of them before they get converted into condos, libraries, stores, and community centres. A couple of years ago I was downtown with my son and the doors were open to the Anglican Christ Church Cathedral and he wanted to go in. After explaining "church rules", we quietly walked inside and up to the front, and then Ben decided he wanted to sit down for a while. We chose an out-of-the-way corner and sat and took in the church and watched the people coming in and leaving. Ben loved it, a quiet, peaceful place amidst a busy city; I loved it because for the first time I understood the calm being in a place of worship can have on a person.
So, I heard all of the Brandenburg Concertos performed in one evening. The only down side to this was that I was sitting on a hard wooden pew, the upside was that it's a catholic church so at least there are "foot rests".
Classical music sounds so amazing in an old church, the acoustics are generally good and as I sat there enjoying the music, I was able to look up at the paintings, the architecture, the ornament, and appreciate it and wonder how many people have done the same in the nearly 100 years that the church has been sitting there. I let the music take me away a few times, and closed my eyes and listened to the harmony, the layers of sound, and I felt another sort of peace settle down on me. This music will probably exist forever, there is so much time in this world.

Monday

Sometimes you just need to get out and listen to something beautiful. The Orchestre Metropolitain played at PdA last night, a Russian program with a guest conductor, Leo Hussain, and I heard about it and went down after work and grabbed a cheap seat. I was not disappointed. I don't pretend to know a lot about classical music, but I almost always enjoy a live concert. It was wonderful and I will be looking for more events like this. The MSO is almost always too expensive for me, but OM doesn't break the bank and I came out floating.

Magic

Banjo man, you've stolen my heart. I saw you in Montreal last night, and now all I want is to lay down in the grass and stare up at the starry night sky and hear you serenade me.
thank you :-)

amazing lyrics

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-r3Bs_KkP94

"But image on image like beads on a rosary
Pulled through my head as the music takes hold
And the sickener hits, I can work till I break
But I love the bones of you that I will never escape"

Have you ever loved like that? Have you ever been loved like that?

Signed, Sealed, Delivered I'm Yours

Made it to the concert, crowds weren't so bad, everyone was pumped, dancing in the streets! I love this city!

very superstitious

Work is a blur - a lot going on and now that vacations are starting, things are getting more complicated. I had a great meeting with the project we just completed and they are very happy with our work.
But enough of that! I am eating a green salad with leftover grilled chicken, tomatoes, and avocado with my own special vinaigrette (meaning, I use very little oil and enough different types of vinegar to choke a horse - I really love vinegar), and getting ready to head downtown where I am meeting up with some girlfriends to either:
a) Go and check out the free Stevie Wonder concert (hooray Jazz Fest!)
b) If it starts to downpour (thunderstorms predicted), go and see Food Inc.
I'm personally hoping for Stevie Wonder. I'm not a big fan, and the crowds are insane and make me crazy, but it's fun to do it sometimes and the energy at the Jazz Fest is outta this world.

On music

We went to see the MSO today, part of a children's concert series. Both of the children enjoy classical music so we thought that this would be a nice way to expose them.
It's cliché to go on about the magic of music. I understand the physics involved: a wave disturbing the air, the vibrations picked up by our ear drums which convert them into the sensation of sound. But that doesn't begin to describe it. I am not a musician, and therefore can only describe it from a listener's perspective.
The visceral tug on your soul as the notes align and and the frequencies and waves move out from the instruments and musicians and penetrate and flow through your body and the bodies of the rest of the audience. Everyone experiencing the sensual joy of the sound passing through them, no two people absorbing the music in the same way and yet all enraptured by its being, by its creation from silence. It's ability to invoke so much joy and sorrow and life, falling into the harmony and dissolving into the vibrations which run through your body in waves of sensual experience.
It allows me to feel awe, to rejoice and wonder at how amazing we are and how incredibly marvelous it all is, and it often makes me cry. I catch my breath and let my body flow along the notes, the chords, the fingers and breath that give the music life. The intimacy that is shared so joyfully, fully, completely between strangers.