There’s lots more to Munich than giant helpings of pig and beer, but neither are the experiences in any way misleading. Just to be sure, Tuesday’s lunch on the outskirts of the Viktualienmarkt was another Schweinshax’n. I atoned with lots of walking: from Viktualienmarkt to the Deutsches Museum, through a fairly high percentage of the interior, then by feel (a fairly inefficient route, as it turned out) to the Neue Pinakothek, discovering that it had just closed for the evening, crossing the street to the Alte Pinakothek, wending my way through most of it, and then by feel (again inefficiently) through the streets between the universities until I found a take-out döner for dinner. By day’s end, my feet and knees sorely wanted me to know that I’d bitten off a bit more than I ought to have chewed. As though I weren’t fully aware!
Greetings from sunny Prague, where summer is officially underway. The same is true for me, having visited friends in Baltimore and Cleveland (the latter a quick little road trip with Judith) and now doing more of the same this side of the pond. It’s turning into a travel-filled summer. A few days after this trip ends, Judith and I are off for another long weekend drive, this time to Massachusetts; the whole middle of July puts me back in Ohio; I got into KlezKanada, so there goes a week in late August; a summer camp reunion and a visit to the parental homestead may open-face sandwich that week. And somewhere amid all this, I have work to be doing, which is why I’m here: I’ll be presenting my Google Summer of Code project — currently no more than a series of twinkles in my eye — at pkgsrcCon in Berlin next weekend. But first, some travel notes from the train to Prague.
South of Dresden the rails trace the path of the Elbe, squeezed in against the increasingly vertical left valley wall. Across the river there’s enough perspective to see rolling hills of dense green, trees filling every possible tree-spot. Occasionally sheer rock faces poke out, or the odd crag. The river towns appear alternately charming and kitschy (Schöna in particular the latter) but there’s no arguing with the fundament on which they sit. The signage at Bad Schandau station includes “východ” along with “Ausgang”; at Děčín, the first stop into Czechia, a field trip boards and the test begins: how well do I hear this language after 2.5 somewhat lackluster years of study and the last semester off? So far, a tiny bit well, which is more than expected. Maybe subjecting myself to a few minutes’ strafing of first-year audio exercises before Dresden helped. When one of the youngsters asked the others “Máte tužku?” I wanted to reach into my bag and produce a pencil, just to prove the point. The land flattens out a ways into the Czech Republic, and thankfully so do my travels for the night. Off to Bratislava tomorrow.
Schmonzcast #12: In last semester’s composition class, I wrote for solo piano, as much for expedience as for love, and it almost didn’t matter what shape it took or whether it was any good; the mere fact of a completed piece was, of itself, a milestone reached. In this, my second go-round, it was less trivial to expand my horizons. My Student-Piece #2 (for clarinet, violin, viola, and cello) maintains the previous composition’s preoccupation with counterpoint and imitation while somewhat loosening the harmonic reins. In fact, I chose the primary thematic material over a related, more consonant version for the same reason I chose four unfamiliar instruments: the challenge. I’m not in love with the result as I was last time, but it grows on me. As for growing, I’m glad of the experiment and would be glad to hear your reactions. As for reactions, my favorite so far was that of the ensemble’s pianist, who complained that I hadn’t written a part for him this time. Not to worry, there’s plenty of piano writing in my future!
2008/04/27
New York Society for Ethical Culture
André-Michel Schub, piano
Cho-Liang Lin, violin
Paul Neubauer, viola
Gary Hoffman, cello
I arrived at the New York Society for Ethical Culture an hour before the concert, eager to hear a scheduled chat between Joan Tower and Bruce Adolphe. The latter is a musical educator and polymath whose Piano Puzzlers (formerly hosted by NPR, now on American Public Media) challenge listeners to identify popular tunes embedded in the keyboard styles of famous composers; the former is the composer of three works appearing on the program that evening, two of which were receiving premieres. Lacking familiarity with Tower and her works, I was hoping to gain some insight by hearing her discuss her music in her own words. It was not to be. By way of explanation, presenter Wu Han volunteered that the composer was unable to attend the concert, as she had fallen earlier in the day and “broke her both knees.”
At the time, the audience gasped. At a few days’ remove, it has since struck this listener as darkly humorous that the titles of the first two Tower works — “Simply Purple” and “Wild Purple” — could describe bruises in various states of repair. And purple was the first thing I noticed about the performance space: under the arch behind center stage the wall was painted purple, and at the back of the mezzanine were purple curtains to block light from the street. The Society for Ethical Culture is not a typical venue for events under the imprimatur of Lincoln Center, which is short on performance space as it undergoes various construction projects, but even in the absence of color coordination it would have worked. Compared with Alice Tully Hall the space is more intimately arranged, a study in half-circles rather than straight lines, and the low stage puts the music at eye and ear level. For solo and chamber works, it fits.
The Beethoven Variations in E flat major, Op. 44 (for piano, violin, and cello) were — at least on the Beethoven-o-meter — something of a trifle. On a small scale and in a fairly classical style, the piece sounded like a warm-up for the composer as much as for the instrumentalists. Named for Tower’s association of the color with the sound of the instrument, the two Purples for viola followed. Played first, written this year, “Simply Purple” opened with a halting, plaintive rising scale, mostly by half steps. Melodic intervals of minor thirds and major thirds alternated, all arco and impassioned. After a pause for trilled harmonics, violist Paul Neubauer returned to full bowings, climbing piecemeal as in the opening, fading wispily to a close in a high register. “Wild Purple,” a 1998 work also written expressly for Neubauer, started in a similar blue vein of half-steps but quickly turned far more virtuosic, filled with arrays of discontiguous double-stops of thirds, tritones, minor seconds, bowing madly and dashing down and up the fingerboard for some excitable moments. Neubauer attained a very breathy, woody sound at times. Purple, perhaps? I might concede the point.
Despite the copious double stops of the earlier work, Tower’s solo viola pieces mostly suggested harmonies rather than explicitly outlining them. So it was instructive to one in search of her musical language to hear her “Trio Cavany” for piano, violin, and cello. With harmonies trading in tritones, sevenths, and ninths, its rhetorical fire and imitative motion belied a lack of dynamism. Rhythmically there was rarely anything to get attached to, and like the shapes of the performance space, the music doubled back on itself, never moving far from its starting point.
At a climactic silence, a program fluttered from a gentleman’s lap into the aisle two rows ahead. I couldn’t see his face, but I could guess its color.
If I can just make it to Tuesday, then I can make it to the following Wednesday, and then life will be fantastic. Summer plans include:
But first I have to finish this semester’s work. Already done or under control:
Not yet under control:
The next several days will be rather tight, and the following week too. But well worth it.