Completing a Mozart Horn Concerto

Next Saturday, February 4th, will be our first Classics concert of the new year at the Cohan Center.  ”Suite Serenades“ will feature the incomparable French horn virtuoso Richard Todd and acclaimed tenor Christopher M. Cock. This dynamic duo will perform together with the orchestra in Britten’s musical setting of six British poems called Serenade for Tenor, Horn and Strings. Also on the program will be Mozart’s Symphony No. 4 and Stravinsky’s delightful Pulcinella Suite.

One of the highlights of the evening however, may be something you’ve never heard before. Maybe you’ve never even thought of it before. Can you imagine completing an unfinished Horn Concerto by the master himself, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart? Well, that’s exactly what Craig H. Russell has done in Allegro for Horn & Orchestra, which will receive its world premiere next Saturday night.

In case you’re wondering how on earth one goes about completing a Mozart Horn Concerto, we thought we’d share with you Dr. Craig Russell’s notes on the piece, just in time for Mozart’s 256th birthday. Enjoy! And we hope to see you next Saturday at the concert.

Allegro for Horn & Orchestra, KV494a (1786/2006, rev.2011)
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756–1791); Completed by Craig H. Russell (b.1951)

At Mozart’s death, he left behind manuscripts with snippets of themes, abandoned sketches, and unfinished works. Among these incomplete torsos is a Horn Concerto in E-Major (KV 494a). It begins magnificently but then ends in midstream. How frustrating. “Wouldn’t it be grand,” I thought to myself, “if we could hear the whole piece!” So, in 2006, I decided to try to finish what Mozart had started. It felt to me as if Mozart had left the ball on the 30-yard-line, and it was my task to see if I could push the whole piece forward and nudge it over the goal line. As much as possible, I wanted this piece to remain “Mozart’s” and not bear the trace of my own compositional traits or idiosyncrasies. To be successful, I hoped to make the “Russell” invisible and the “Mozart” highlighted. I’ll leave it to the audience to see how close I got to that goal.

Mozart’s manuscript pages for this horn concerto are presently housed at the Deutschen Staatsbibliothek Berlin under the call number “Mus. ms. autogr. W. A. Mozart Anh. 98a.” On the first page, Mozart scribbled out in red ink his title, Concerto a Corno principale (Concerto for a Featured French Horn). The beginning measures are complete and polished in every detail: Mozart has all of the lines written out, and he adds detailed dynamics, bowings, and articulations. But little by little, and rather early on, the information begins to diminish, until—when the solo horn enters—the accompaniment begins to evaporate altogether. Soon the horn abruptly stops in mid-phrase. At that point, I “pick up the ball” and move forward.

The scholarly research of Alan Tyson has shown that Mozart obtained the paper for this work in the spring or summer of 1785, shortly before he began composing The Marriage of Figaro. For whom did Mozart write this piece? No one really knows, but there are some believable theories. The scholar Franz Giegling suggests that this movement may have been destined for Jacob Eisen—the principal hornist for the National Theater in Vienna. Giegling cites as supporting evidence a letter from Constanze Mozart to Johann Anton André in which she states, “the widow of Jacob Eisen has in her possession a single [Mozart] score for solo horn.” In the 1960s, Richard Dunn proposed that Mozart might have begun this E-major concerto for Giovanni Punto, the horn soloist who premiered Mozart’s Sinfonia concertante, KV 297b. A third possible candidate for the potential dedicatee of this concerto would be Joseph Leutgeb for whom Mozart wrote most of those gorgeous horn concertos that we know and love. Giegling thinks Leutgeb is not a viable candidate and builds a plausible case for his view. Alfred Einstein thought this E-major concerto movement was probably a middle-movement sketch intended for Mozart’s Concerto in D-major (KV 412), a theory that seems nonsensical to me, since that would produce a pattern with two fast movements plus a rondo—and no slow movement at all. That structure simply does not match up with any other known Mozart work. Also, a typical classical concerto in D would never have a contrasting middle movement in the key of E-major.

So, we have several candidates for Mozart’s choice of horn soloist: Eisen? Punto? Leutgeb? In the end, no one really knows with certainty either the occasion or the person that Mozart had in mind. But I have my own flawed but enchanting theory—maybe Mozart was simply waiting for Rick Todd to come along and play this concerto! Certainly, nobody has ever played the horn any better.

Excerpted from program notes for the concert by Craig H. Russell

**Don’t miss Suite Serenades on February 4th at the Cohan Center. At 7 pm, Dr. Russell will  present an entertaining pre-concert lecture on the musical program (including his own world premiere) called “Symphonic Forays.” The concert begins at 8 pm.

Holidays, Hallelujahs, and Flash Mobs

By David Hennessee

The holiday season is upon us, and with that comes holiday music: from sacred music like Handel’s Messiah, to carols, both secular and sacred, to novelty songs (“Grandma got run over by a reindeer,” for example). A personal musical tradition of mine is tuning in to David Letterman every December 23rd to watch Darlene Love perform “Christmas (Baby Please Come Home).”

For many of us in the classical music community, performers as well as patrons, the holiday season means a concert by the Cuesta Master Chorale, often featuring something Christmas-y or sacred – a mass, requiem, magnificat, or what have you. This year’s concert is a little different: all well-known overtures, choruses and arias from best-loved operas. “Habanera” from Carmen, for example. Here’s a version with the legendary Maria Callas. Love the facial expressions! And the beehive!

Also we’re performing Dido’s Lament from Purcell’s opera “Dido and Aeneas.” I came across this version featuring the amazing Jessye Norman, and in addition to her passionate singing, she looks like a character from science fiction fantasy.

We’re also playing “Brindisi” from Verdi’s “La Traviata.” This is one you might not know by name, but once you hear it, you go, “oh yeah!” I found this great video of a Brindisi flash mob. In case you don’t know the term “flash mob,” it describes a recent phenomenon (dating from 2003) of groups of people assembling suddenly and unexpectedly in a public place, doing something unusual. For example, in 2006 at different stations in London’s Underground, about 4000 people wearing portable music devices danced in a flash mob “Silent Disco.” Flash mobs have become quite a trend in recent years; a quick YouTube search reveals all sorts of crazy, entertaining examples.

I think the flash mob is a fascinating phenomenon, perhaps showing our desire in modern society to break through the hum-drum, processed, commodified veneer of mass culture into random, unexpected, joyful moments of beauty and presence. Kind of a communal “random act of kindness” that erases distinctions between high culture and mass culture, the concert hall and the town square. My Marxist friends in the university often point out that in a capitalist society, art can become just another thing to buy sell, losing its edge and power of social criticism. Flash mobs, by contrast, exist in the realm of “art for art’s sake,” beautiful and effective for their very uselessness. Like Winnie the Pooh, they simply are.

The holiday season often sees performances of Handel’s Messiah. Of course, the Messiah is great and all, but I do have to say I’m rather pleased not to be playing it this year. The reason is summed up by this joke: “Did you hear about the viola player who dreamt he was playing Handel’s Messiah, woke up, and realized he was?” Still, it’s hard not to be moved by Handel’s music, especially the “Hallelujah Chorus.” What would it be like to be shopping at the mall, grabbing a bite at the food court, and all of a sudden hear this:

Did you know, you don’t even have to be able to sing or play an instrument to perform the Hallelujah chorus? Check it out.

Happy Holidays!

Nationalism

In our last installment of “Playing in the Orchestra from A to Z,” we delved into the mysteries of the mute. And what amazing (if understated) discoveries me made there! After writing that blog, next on my agenda was N for Nerves. Fittingly, this topic gave me cold feet. What if my blog was unable to fully explain and solve the age-old problem of performance anxiety? Well, never fear; in the near future I plan to stare down my perfectionism and write a blog on stage fright that will free us all of it paralyzing grasp forever!

Luckily, another N topic has presented itself as timely: Nationalism in classical music. This weekend we are playing Sibelius Symphony #5, an unusual piece in its structure and sound world. Sibelius’s best known piece is probably his symphonic poem “Finlandia,” which evokes the oppression of czarist Russia and a prayer for freedom. Sibelius’s symphonies by contrast are “absolute music” in the sense that they don’t tell a story or evoke specific images. Nevertheless, it’s not difficult when listening to parts of Symphony #5 to imagine the icy landscape of the composer’s Finland, insects buzzing over the tundra, or majestic mountains and coastlines.  (BTW the insect effect is achieved by repeated tremolo-like string parts. At times one could wish they’d had Orkin in early 20th-century Finland.)

Music that reflected nationalism really took off in the 19th century, for a few reasons. First, Romanticism as a general movement in art concerned itself with folk traditions of the “common people,” seeing them as natural, spontaneous, innocent, and even closer to the divine. Secondly, the French Revolution spread the values of freedom and national self-determination around a Europe that had been oppressed by absolute monarchs for centuries. The 1815 Congress of Vienna attempted to turn back the clock on this nationalistic spirit, but the genie was out of the bottle. Since that time, many composers have used their music to express the idioms of their homeland and pride in its values and culture.

A famous example is Bedrich’s Smetana’s “The Moldau.” This video features beautiful images of Prague.

There was a sort of rage for things Hungarian in the 19th century, and the German Brahms jumped on board with his Hungarian Dances.

In the 20th century Bela Bartok studied the folk music of his native Hungary and incorporated it into his compositions. The last movement of the Viola Concerto, for example, resembles a raucous peasant dance. When I was learning it, my teacher would hop around the room singing “Dance, gyspy!” BTW, the violist in this clip is amazing! If you watch any of these videos, watch this one… Viola Power!

As we know, the Czech composer Dvorak lived in the United States for three years, where he took inspiration from African-American and Native-American music. He wrote some of his best-known music there, including the Cello Concerto and the New World Symphony with it’s famous “Goin’ Home” slow movement. He also lived in a Czech-speaking community in Iowa for a while, where he wrote the American String quartet. In its last movement you can almost visualize cowboys riding across the prairie. One teacher I had directed my quartet to play the staccato chords like “Indian hatchet chops” (this was before political correctness).

America’s homegrown musical style is jazz, of course, and Gershwin is the one who introduced it to the concert hall with “Rhapsody in Blue.” His “Lullaby” also makes use of the syncopated rhythms of jazz and popular dance.

Zzzzzzzzzz…… well after that I think I may be relaxed enough to face writing about nerves. Till then, dear readers.

Spooky Symphonies

By David Hennessee

Halloween is fast approaching, with all its attendant ghouls, goblins, witches, demons, and other creatures of the night-bump. We all know about holiday music around Christmas-time (cheerful and somber carols, silly pop songs, ubiquitous Messiahs…), but what about Halloween holiday music?

I got to thinking about classical music that evokes the spirit of this gruesome season, and actually there is quite a bit going back a few hundred years. These days, I’d venture to say that most people regularly hear symphonic music in film scores. Just the other day, for a friend I was playing a recording of the finale from Sibelius Symphony #5 (which we’re playing in November), and he said “You know how I can tell this is 20th century? It sounds like movie music!” That’s probably a compliment to Sibelius, as it means his idiom still speaks to listeners deeply enough to inspire film composers to imitate it.

For horror movies, music is absolutely necessary for setting the mood and giving the audience all the chills they crave. Consider how in the following example, the wrong music transforms Hithcock’s chilling “The Birds” into farce.

Of course, most Hitchcock movies are scored to the eerie and intense music of Bernard Herrmann. Without the music, “Psycho” would just be a story of a boy and his mother.

Vertigo, while not exactly horror, is certainly moody, creepy, and suspenseful, due in no small part to the score.

Music that conveys fear really got going in the Romantic period, though you see earlier examples in opera; for example the finale of Don Giovanni, when the statue of the Commedatore comes to life to accuse Don Giovanni and cast him into hell. To me, the fact that in this production, the Commendatore looks a like a life-size Monopoly piece only makes the scene creepier. Go directly to hell! Do not pass GO or collect $200!

Romantic-era composers pioneered music that evoked specific scenes, such as Beethoven’s Pastoral Symphony, as well as music that tells stories, which we call program music. One of the best examples of program music is Berlioz’s “Symphonie Fanatastique.” Here is a visualization of its “Witches’ Sabbath” movement.

The Russian nationalist composers were masters of vivid and colorful program music, as we see in Mussorgsky’s “Night on Bald Mountain.”

Sacred music also uses some of these spooky techqniues. The Requiem Mass, for example, contains a Dies Irae (“Day of Wrath”) movement. Verdi’s Dies Irae is probably the scariest; you can almost hear the lost souls crying out in terror at God’s wrath. Playing it is a little scary too… it’s fast!

Whenever I think of Halloween, this little bon-bon comes to mind: Charles Ives’ piece for strings and piano entitled “Halloween.” In college, my string quartet was asked to perform for a Halloween program, and someone suggested this piece. We performed in costume… the first violinist was a police officer, the second was a cowboy, the cellist was a cat, and I was a ghost. It’s not easy to play the viola covered in a sheet with eyeholes cut out. I’m not sure I played all the correct notes, but as you will hear, it probably didn’t matter.

Happy Halloween!

Transformations

By David Hennessee

Hello all, I hope you had a great summer! The symphony is getting ready for Opening Night, when we will be performing Berlioz’s Overture to Beatrice and Benedict, Stravinsky’s Firebird Suite, and Rachmaninoff’s Second Piano Concerto with Robert Thies as soloist. It’s been a while since I last blogged; I had some ideas about the “brotherhood of man” and “Freude” around the time we played Beethoven 9 in May but was so busy learning all those notes, I didn’t find the time to get them down on (virtual) paper. By the way, check out the first minute or so of this video to hear us playing Beethoven (and get a close-up of violists Kim Wilkins and Karen Loewi-Jones rockin’ out!)

Some more recent concerts that many of us in the Symphony played kind of got me thinking. First there was the “Summer of Love” Pops concert with all those groovy feel-good popular songs from 1967-1970. The next week, some of us performed for the Symphony of the Vines September 11th memorial concerts. On the program were the Barber Adagio and Mozart Requiem. Quite a change from “Windy” and “Happy Together,” right?  Well, maybe… but from another perspective, I think it’s interesting that at the height of the Vietnam War, with all that violence and social unrest, some of the music our culture was so lighthearted. I guess that’s the great paradox of the 1960s… a time of joy, understanding, love and peace, but also struggle and unrest. And that’s a bit similar to the paradox of music like the Barber Adagio and Mozart Requiem… melancholy, evoking intense emotions of loss and pain, yet ultimately cathartic and healing.

The father of the Franciscan Order at Mission San Miguel gave a mini-sermon before the 9/11 memorial concert on the Franciscan idea that “if you don’t transform your pain, you will transmit it.” In essence that’s what a Requiem does; it takes the subject of death and makes something beautiful and healing out of it.

That phrase – “if you don’t transform your pain, you will transmit it” – really struck a chord with me, making me think about how great art has the power to do just that. Moreover, in their personal lives artists often face struggles that they work through and heal in the artistic process. Then as performers, viewers, or readers, we are privileged to experience that transformation of pain, witnessing its power, and possibly letting it heal some of our own.

This theme of transforming pain actually ties together all the works we are performing on Opening Night. Before writing the opera Beatrice and Benedict, Berlioz, for example, developed an intestinal illness that troubled him for the rest of his life, and he began writing an opera that he was unable to finish because of that illness. Despite these difficulties, he finished his next opera, Beatrice and Benedict. Interestingly, he recounted that at the premiere, his conducting was strengthened because the physical pain let him be “emotionally detached” and “less excitable.” The story of Beatrice and Benedict fits the theme of transformation as well. Based on Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing, this comedy describes how the main characters despise one another when they first meet, but in the end realize their mutual love and respect.

The story of Rachmaninoff’s Second Piano Concerto is well known and also involves transformation. Rachmaninoff’s first symphony was not well-received by contemporary critics, and on top of that, the composer faced a number of personal problems that sent him into a depression that lasted for several years. Unable to compose, Rachmaninoff began therapy in which he repeated to himself “You will begin to write your concerto…You will work with great facility…The concerto will be of an excellent quality…” The therapy worked, and the Concerto has been one of the most popular works in the repertoire ever since. In the lush, melancholy melodies that run through this concerto, I think you can hear some of Rachmaninoff’s sadness and its transformation into beauty.

Also on the program is a suite from Stravinsky’s Firebird ballet, a work that describes a world of trickery, fantasy, and magic. In the animated film Fantasia 2000, Disney used the music to evoke a volcanic eruption, its aftermath, and rebirth.

See you on Opening Night!

Live Web Broadcast: Anne Akiko Meyers Japan Benefit Concert on April 29th

SPECIAL Live WEB BROADCASTAnne Akiko Meyers Japan Benefit Concert At 7:55PM US Pasific Time, Friday, April 29
Play for Japan USA presents a benefit concert featuring virtuoso Anne Akiko Meyers, one of the world’s premiere concert violinists. For those who cannot attend the event in Woodside, CA, a special Live Web Broadcast of the performance is available for a $7 donation. All proceeds will go to Japan disaster relief efforts. Let’s support Japan through the power of music! From the comfort of your living room, you can have a front row seat to watch Ms. Meyers perform Japanese and Western classical pieces with pianist Wendy Chen.Live Broadcast will be available for viewing up to 48 hours after the conclusion of the concert. This concert is fiscally sponsored by the Kurosawa Piano Music Foundation, a 501(c)(3) tax-exempt organization.
broadcasting will start at 7:55pm pst Concert will be held @ Woodside HS Performing Arts Center [map it] April 29(FRI)	Get More Info Here BUY LIVE BROADCAST TICKETS NOW! ($7 donation)
CORPORATE SPONSORS: Anova Solutions, Artspromo, enConcert, eOne Music,eTix, eTix Japan, Frecklebox,  Progressive Solutions, Sony Computer Entertaiment America LLC, SRI International, Yamaha Peninsula Music Center PARTNERS: American Red Cross, Asian American Cancer Support Network, Asian American for Community Involvement, atelier b, Bloomingdale’s Stanford, Capriccio Music, Friends of “Play for Japan USA”, Japanese Art & Cultural Center, Japan Center for International Exchange, Japan Society of Northern California, Japanese Working Mothers Association SF, KEIZAI Society, San Francisco Symphony, Vintage Wine Marchant, Wells Fargo

OFFICIAL ENDORSEMENT BY: The Consulate-General of Japan in San Francisco

Into the 70′s: The Turning Point

As our 50th Anniversary Season draws closer to the grand finale day by day (Beethoven’s 9th – May 7 & 8!) we suddenly realized that we left you, our loyal blog fans, hanging out in the late 60′s. Not a bad place to hang out in many ways, but still, we figured you might like to know the rest of the story. So without any further ado, we present to you the next installment of this history of the San Luis Obispo Symphony by Edward Lowman.

The Symphony prospered during the sixties. Incorporation had worked out well and the newly -forged relationship with Cuesta College was turning out even better. The orchestra had grown in both size and quality and the Symphony Guild had been established. As the decade came to a close, however, the Symphony hit a bump. A big bump. Maestro Earle Blakeslee announced that he would be leaving for Europe after the 1969-70 season.

To help fill the gap, Hendrik de Boer was asked to step in as President one last time. Daniel Kepl, meanwhile, a young conductor from Santa Barbara, was engaged to lead the orchestra. It was understood that de Boer’s assignment was to be crisis intervention rather than long-term leadership, but Kepl’s role was hoped to grow into something more. In any event, they both were on board for barely a year.

It was at this point that another player came onstage who would have some impact. In the Autumn of 1970 Alice Nelson persuaded Edward Lowman to become the organization’s first permanent, salaried Business Manager (at a whopping $1.00/hour!). He immediately set about putting things in order in the areas of player personnel, orchestra morale, union relations, concert production, house management, publicity and public relations, program design and printing, internal communications, the music library and coordination with the Monday Club Competition. He even had to have the conductor’s podium rebuilt.

These things were all remedial fixes of operational matters, however; the big issues still lay ahead. By the Spring of 1971, Alice Nelson and one or two other experienced hands like June Eisenbise recognized that Lowman could also be their lightning rod for really significant changes. Very private meetings were held, including several in cars and a now legendary one late in the evening on the steps of Great Western Bank under umbrellas in a pouring rain. Plans were made, roles were defined, names were named. Lowman thought to himself that it seemed just too much like a grade B spy movie.

And then, just like in the movies, it all came together. A fresh new leadership team swept in consisting of: banker Arthur Allen, radio station owner Homer Odom, and title insurance executive Murray Taylor. Fresh new attitudes brought fresh new procedures, from business practices to fiscal controls to the fact that the Board would no longer take the summer off.

Clifton Swanson

At the meeting of July 1971, President Allen announced that he would like the Board to meet their new Conductor/Music Director. He then opened the door and in walked Clifton Swanson, Conductor of the Cal Poly Chamber Orchestra and Music Director of the newly founded Mozart Festival. Allen also unveiled the new budget: $12,500. It seems like nothing today, but thirty years ago it was an unheard-of sum for an arts organization on the Central Coast. It wasn’t just theoretical, either: There was a detailed plan for raising it, with Vice-President Odom in charge and with a written assignment for every member of the Board.

By the August meeting it was already clear that the coup was a complete success. Instead of responding to events the Symphony was now shaping them. All its components were up and running and the new maestro had even announced the 1971-72 Season’s concert dates and the name of the first guest artist, pianist Steven Gordon. This was the beginning of the modern era of the San Luis Obispo Symphony, and all through that pivotal July meeting the umbrella people never looked at each other even once. They didn’t dare.

Now began a period of sustained and mostly steady development. In September of 1971, new President Arthur Allen attended the first rehearsal under new Conductor/Music Director Clifton Swanson. They were doing Handel’s Water Music. Afterwards, Allen intoned in his deep stentorian voice, “When I heard those horns I knew that all would be well.”

It wasn’t just the horn section, either (led, of course, by new Principal Jane Swanson and composed of her students plus the one lonely player from the previous year). Stability, satisfaction and growth throughout the ranks of the orchestra would be a hallmark of Swanson’s tenure. The orchestra’s thinner ranks in those days enabled Swanson to do something else of which he remains very proud: encouraging top students from local high schools, Cuesta College, and Cal Poly to join the Symphony. A remarkable number of these students passed through on their way to musical careers, and several are still associated with the Symphony today.

The Symphony Guild also prospered. Many people contributed but three stood out: Dorothy Burkhardt, Virginia Polin, and of course, Peggy Peterson. Then, in 1981, Patty Patten and Ruth Kraker co-founded the North County Symphony Guild. The Guilds not only raised money for the Symphony but also raised Symphony awareness in the community.

One of Maestro Swanson’s greatest contributions was his impressive network of soloists. He believed that top soloists not only pleased the audience but also inspired the orchestra. The first of these was pianist Steven Gordon, who later coached the 88 pianists in the Olympics Opening Ceremonies at Los Angeles. Others included pianist James Bonn, violinists David Abel and Kathleen Lenski, and soprano Lucy Shelton.

Before that, however, in mid-1979 the most fruitful connection of them all had begun when the Symphony offered an aspiring young pianist his very first professional engagement. He was Jeffrey Kahane, and on January 18, 1980, he soloed in Beethoven’s Fourth Piano Concerto.

Edward Lowman and Jeffrey Kahane

For Kahane and the Central Coast it was love, and in 1983 they shared one of the most special moments of their lives. Swanson had booked Kahane to play Rachmaninoff’s Third Concerto in May. Early in the year, however, Kahane called up and said he was thinking of entering the prestigious Rubinstein Competition. He wasnt sure, though: He’d have to cancel with us because the competition was just a week before the concert here and the Third Concerto wasn’t on the competition list, the Paganini Rhapsody was. Swanson told Kahane to go ahead and enter. “We won’t practice the Third, we’ll practice the Rhapsody. Then when you get here we’ll tell everyone that we’ve just now decided to change the program because of your appearance at the Rubinstein.” Then Clifton added the kicker. “Of course, this means you have to win the Rubinstein!”

Now pinch yourselves, folks, because that’s just how it worked out. The whole orchestra kept their little secret perfectly (the printed program even carried notes for the Third Concerto), Kahane did win the Rubinstein, and on May 7, 1983, the Symphony community enjoyed an evening they will never, ever forget.

Copyright © 2001 by Edward Lowman

La Guitarra

By David Hennessee

Hello again dear blog readers. LTNB (Long Time No Blog). Patty was quite correct in writing that I’ve been very busy – this quarter I’ve been teaching two classes I haven’t done in a few years (British literature 1832-1914 and Great Books) so I’ve had to refresh my memory on texts and curriculum. An upside was that I got to revisit one of my favorite novels: Wilkie Collins’ “The Woman in White.” Published in 1860, it was the first “sensation novel” – a blend of the domestic novel (about love, marriage, and family life), the Gothic novel, and the detective novel. Think “Pride and Prejudice” meets “Twilight” meets “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.” I highly recommend it. It is, however, 635 pages long, so it takes commitment, and I didn’t think I could get away with blogging about what’s been on my mind: things like how Collins’ innovative narrative structure relates to changing 19th-century notions of gentlemanly behavior…

January was also a very busy month for me and many other symphony musicians. There was a Cal Poly student/faculty/local music scene folks all-Bach concert, then the Brandenburgs in the Mission, and then the February Classics concert with Shunske Sato. I had to miss the Damon Castillo concert but I heard it was a lot of fun. So much music!

Right now we’re getting ready for the next concert featuring guitarist Jose Maria Gallardo del Rey and violinist Anabel Garcia del Castillo. Jose Maria is well known to local audiences, but this is Anabel’s first time here. I did a little Googling and found this blurb about her:

“Una excelentisima violinista: una tecnica nitida y matematica, junto a una sonoridad de gran belleza y plenitud, asi como una diccion de incuestionable vigor comunicativo.” (Cataluna y Musica)

I had three years of Spanish way back when, so I kind of got the gist: she’s really good. With the help of a translator program, here’s what I think it’s saying:

“A most excellent violinist: a technique spotless and mathematical, along with a sound of great beauty and fullness, as well as a clarity of unquestionably unreserved power.”

This will be an exciting concert in part because we’re playing a world premiere, a piece called “Glosas,” written by Jose Maria for guitar, violin, and orchestra, and I hear they’re bringing a percussionist with them from Spain. That should help us a lot, as the piece is very flamenco-esque, and those rhythms can be difficult.

New music is fun to play; it’s like traveling to a foreign country: exciting, a little bit scary, and with a sense of adventure. It’s also challenging because there’s no “tradition” to fall back on. For example, bowings (I wonder if I can write a blog and NOT mention bowings…). In the standard repertoire, there are usually certain ways bowings are done, or at least there are a couple of familiar options. Not so with new music. You have to figure out the best way to do it, what’s in character with the music, and what will work technically. Fortunately for us, Anabel did most of the bowings for “Glosas,” though with bowings it seems like you’re never finished. Just this morning, as I was lecturing on imagery of light and dark in Joseph Conrad’s novella “Heart of Darkness,” I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket. It wasn’t Conrad calling to say “you’re getting it all wrong!” It was Mike Nowak calling to tell me about a bowing change.

I was reflecting a bit on what a versatile instrument the guitar is. It’s played everywhere from concert halls, to beer-soaked dive bars, kindergarten classrooms, around campfires or beach bonfires; it’s featured in life-affirming lesbian folk rock:

Back in the days when I went to beer-soaked dive bars to listen to life-affirming lesbian folk rock, people used to say “why don’t you bring your viola next time?” I just didn’t think Brandenburg #6 would work have worked in that context.

I attended a music school once that had a separate “guitar wing” of the practice rooms. This was done because the acoustic guitar is a quiet instrument, and the guitarists’ delicate plucking would have been drowned out if next door to a trumpet player blasting away, a pianist diligently practicing scales, or a violist talking about last night’s episode of “Melrose Place.” I used to hang out in the “guitar wing” when things got stressful; it was very relaxing and centering and a bit melancholy.

Which is the feeling one gets from the best-known work we’re playing, Rodrigo’s “Concierto de Aranjuez” with its famous Adagio.

Rodrigo was inspired to write this piece by the gardens at Palacio Real de Aranjuez, which makes sense as it definitely evokes nostalgia. It’s also one of those pieces that is very sad and very beautiful at the same time. I was interested to learn that Rodrigo’s wife Victoria wrote in her autobiography that the slow movement evokes the happiness of their honeymoon but also the sadness of the miscarriage of their first pregnancy.

Legendary jazz musician Miles Davis did a famous reading of this piece on his album “Sketches of Spain.”

Davis wrote in his autobiography (Miles, the Autobiography) that Rodrigo

“didn’t like the record, and he – his composition – was the reason I did ‘Sketches of Spain’ in the first place. Since he was getting a royalty for the use of the song on the record, I told his person who had played it for him, ‘let’s see if he likes it after he starts getting those big royalty checks.’ I never heard anything about or from him after that.”

See you soon! David

History of the San Luis Obispo Symphony – Part II

 

Alice Parks Nelson

THE SIXTIES: TRIUMPH AND TRAGEDY

Mrs. Nelson had a dream. She dreamed that there should be a music scholarship competition for the talented young people of San Luis Obispo County. To make her dream come true, Alice Parks Nelson needed several things: the cooperation of area music teachers, a sponsoring institution, and an orchestra of substance with which the winning competitors could perform and be recognized. All of these things, seemingly so formidable, were actually nearer at hand than she could have known.

Over at the Community Orchestra, meanwhile, there were other people with some formidable problems, namely, finding a Conductor, a Concertmaster, and a Manager. (Lucian Morrison had left for a sabbatical in Europe following the 1959-60 season, while Concertmaster Lois Morgan moved away and Manager and former Concertmaster Norman Babcock decided to hang it up.) After much discussion, it was decided to approach the Santa Maria Community Orchestra and its Conductor, Loren Powell.

Loren Powell

Powell was a fine musician, having been a violinist with the Los Angeles Philharmonic and with MGM, and a conducting pupil of Sir Eugene Goosens. A novel agreement was worked out whereby Powell would conduct both orchestras, using the same music, and they would present their concerts together, first in one city and then in the other. Harry Tarr would be Concertmaster for the San Luis Obispo concerts and Wesley Foxen of Santa Maria for the concerts there, with each orchestra contributing a “half” Manager.
This arrangement was admittedly clumsy and it was mainly Powell’s vibrant personality which held it together. The instrumentation of both orchestras was greatly improved, nonetheless, and printed programs–not mimeographed–became standard. Business sponsors were also listed for the first time. Most importantly, perhaps, the Spring concert of 1961 featured a student soloist, Karen Banham of Atascadero, a high school senior and a pupil of prominent North County musician and teacher Dorothy Renton. She played the Warsaw Concerto.

The efforts of others had brought Mrs. Nelson’s dream much closer to reality. Now Alice took the initiative. First she enlisted the Monday Club to sponsor her music competition. Then she got her husband, businessman Stanley Nelson, to head a committee to incorporate the Community Orchestra. As shrewd as she was civic-minded, Mrs. Nelson not only included civic leaders on the committee but also a fine young lawyer, (later Judge) William Fredman, and the two most respected long-timers from the orchestra, Howard Barlow and Captain Arthur Druet. On September 7, 1961, the San Luis Obispo County Symphony Association officially came into being over dinner at the San Luis Obispo Country Club. Senator Vernon Sturgeon spoke, and the Association’s first President was Dr. John H. Woodbridge. Then, on June 7, 1962, John Visser of Arroyo Grande soloed in the opening movement of Mendelssohn’s G minor Piano Concerto as the first winner of the Monday Club Music Scholarship Award.

Despite some initial misgivings, the orchestra prospered under the new system. That same June 7 concert also included Schubert’s Fifth Symphony, complete, to be followed in the Autumn by Haydn’s “London” Symphony and Beethoven’s First Piano Concerto with John Visser. Dr. Allen Miller and Emanuel Heifetz (distantly related to Jascha Heifetz) each took a turn as Concertmaster. Fred Artindale switched from viola to cello, however, so Principal Viola duties were shared by Hancock College’s Christopher Kuzell and Luke Morrison, returned now from Europe. Most significantly, four concerts per season became the norm.

It all seemed almost too good to be true, and sadly, it was. On Saturday, May 15, 1965, while conducting the dress rehearsal for the season’s last concert, Loren Powell collapsed on the podium and died the same evening. The following afternoon a stunned and sorrowful band gathered to play their concert In Memoriam, with violinist and Association President Dr. Robert Butler pressed into duty on the podium all knew should remain empty.

Dr. Earle Blakeslee

Mercifully, summer was at hand and there was time to think. The fledgling Cuesta College now became the Symphony’s sponsor, its President, Dr. Merlin Eisenbise, and his lovely wife, June, the Symphony’s enthusiastic supporters, and the College’s one-man music department, Dr. Earle Blakeslee, the Symphony’s new Conductor.

Dr. Blakeslee was educated at the Eastman School and USC, and he had some decided ideas. Singers would now perform regularly with the Symphony, including soprano Mary Hanson and tenor Hendrik de Boer, a professional singer who had “retired” to his Atascadero dairy ranch and who also served as Association President. Youth, too, would be served with the founding of the County Youth Symphony in 1966 and the big orchestra’s Symphonies for Youth series in 1967. Then, in 1968, the orchestra moved into the newly opened Cuesta Auditorium.

Dr. Blakeslee’s wife, Diane, also had some decided ideas, only hers were about money. She became very active in fundraising, helping to launch the first telethon in 1966 and almost single-handedly obtaining the Symphony’s first grant from the County in 1969. Alice Nelson and June Eisenbise had some ideas, too, and on May 1, 1969, they co-chaired the founding of the Symphony Guild.

The deal with the Santa Maria Symphony had evaporated, of course, with the death of Loren Powell. Dr. Blakeslee’s leadership was a little sterner than Powell’s, but the orchestra responded and prospered anew, quickly outgrowing any need for the other group. Donna Weiss took a turn as Concertmaster, and there were soon enough violas, including Cal Poly dean David Cook, that Luke Morrison could switch back to violin. Lucy Noble had already taken up the cello so she could join Evard in the orchestra; now Cuesta’s Joe Brundage also joined the cellos, and trombonist Dr. George McGinnis served a term as Association President. About the only sad news was that the redoubtable duo of Barlow and Druet were gone, one transferred and the other retired.

As all things do, nonetheless, this period too came to an end. Following the 1969-70 season, Dr. Blakeslee, like Luke Morrison ten years before, left for an extended stay in Europe. As with each previous transition, there were troubles. Soon, however, there would also be new opportunities.

Copyright (c) 2000 by Edward Lowman

A look back…

Greetings SLO Symphony Blog fans! Patty Thayer here – Communications Director here at the Symphony. Our violist/English professor/blog expert David Hennessee has been very, very busy and we’ve been missing him terribly here on the SLO Symphony blog.  While we’re waiting for him to bring us more of his insights from a musician’s perspective,  I’ve decided to step in and post a little something.

Here we are, right smack dab in the middle of our 50th Anniversary Season. So…how’s it going?

In the words of Maestro Michael Nowak, our goal is “a yearlong celebration of great music, outstanding performers, and unique and exciting programs.” Judging by the record crowd at Pops by the Sea, sold-out concerts for Zuill Bailey and Maria Jette and the excitement of our audience at our first-ever New Year’s Eve POPS Concert… I’d say the celebration is definitely on!

This milestone anniversary year also affords us the opportunity to recognize those who have shared in the successes and challenges of building a wonderful community orchestra all along the way. And what better way to recognize those who have helped to make this Symphony what it is today, than by taking a look back at our fifty year history? For the next few blog posts here at slosymphony.wordpress.com, I’ll be posting selections from Edward Lowman’s history of the San Luis Obispo Symphony.  Ed was the general manager of the Symphony back in the sixties, then served a few terms on the board, including two terms as president. Finally, he settled in as our program note annotator. In 2000, Ed was commissioned to tell the story of our community orchestra and no one could have done it better. Ed passed away in 2004, but his words live on as we celebrate this 50th Anniversary year. When we hit 2001, I’ll chime in with what’s happened during the last ten years but for now, please join me for a look back at the history of our hometown orchestra through Ed Lowman’s eyes. We begin at the very beginning…

Seven, They Were Seven

It was such a tiny band, just seven strong, that began making music together in1953. There was ironworker Hal Harrington on “bull fiddle,” his trombone-playing friend Melvin Fewkes, trumpeter Ray Cunningham, a retired oilfield hand, and violinist Eleanor Randall and her daughter Amy, a highschooler who played piano and clarinet. The oldest of the group was cellist Bill Trusdall, a courtly widower, while the youngest – and the only one not from Morro Bay – was Jim Wagner, a nine-year-old violin pupil from Los Osos.

They had begun meeting at the instigation of a local music teacher named Harry Fetz, but Fetz soon moved away and left the group adrift. In the summer on 1954, therefore, Hal Harrington approached the conservatory-trained organist of the Morro Bay Presbyterian Church, Esther Hoisington, about helping them out. She agreed, and in Mrs. Hoisington’s living room the Symphony was born. (Please note: anniversary years date from incorporation in 1961.)

Johnson, who became the first Concertmaster, and Howard Barlow, the County’s Veterans Administration Officer, who became the first de facto Manager. They named themselves the Morro Bay Community Orchestra, and on August 5, 1954, they gave their first little performance, for the Morro Bay chapter of the Eastern Star.

As word of the orchestra spread, musicians began coming from all over the County, including hornist and new Assistant Conductor Richard Watts. Melvin Fewkes was elected the first orchestra President, rehearsals were moved to the social hall of the Presbyterian Church, and on April 17, 1955, twenty-one strong, they gave their first full length concert at the Morro Bay Veterans Building. Classical excerpts and popular medleys were necessarily the fare, highlighted by Watts playing the first movement of Mozart’s E-flat Horn Concerto, K.495.

With the orchestra so well launched, Mrs. Hoisington decided to step aside. For the 1955-56 season the baton would go to Watts and accompaniment duties at the piano to Linnea Waltz, a well-known journalist who had once been a piano teacher. The pattern of two concerts per season was confirmed, with the Spring concert of 1956 being typical: a suite by Lully, Andalucia by Lecuona, the slow movement from Brahms’s Second Symphony, and popular selections.

The 1956-57 season was much the same, but the next year, 1957-58, brought major changes. Dick Watts moved away and the Conductorship went to Lucian Morrison, a long time music teacher in the San Luis Obispo schools. Harry Tallman became Concertmaster, and there were now so many violins – fourteen – that Eleanor Randall, the only one left from the original band of seven, switched to cello. The first “official” Manager was named, Capt. Arthur L. Druet, U.S. Army, Retired, while the redoubtable Howard Barlow became President. Years later, Morrison would remember Barlow’s contributions warmly. “Howard really was my right hand man. The two of us were conductor, business manager, janitor, printer, everything else. We were ‘the works’ – kept it going.

Just as importantly, sponsorship of the orchestra was now taken over by the San Luis Obispo Adult College – the night school – whose administrator was the extremely popular, irrepressibly enthusiastic, party piano-playing William J. “Billy” Watson. The Spring concert of 1958 also featured the first appearance of concert pianist Wachtang “Botso” Korisheli, a musician and sculptor of Georgian (formerly USSR) descent who would become an important figure in the area’s cultural life.

The orchestra’s greater size and increasing experience also allowed the new conductor a richer choice of programming, a trend which continued during the 1958-59 season. On December 21 the orchestra gave its most ambitious Christmas concert yet, while the Spring program featured Weber’s Concertino for Clarinet and Orchestra performed by another local music teacher, Robert Grindle. The music still inclined to the light and easy – Rosamunde and dances from The Bartered Bride – but it was all genuinely orchestral.

Joey Fasano was Concertmaster for 1958-59 and Kenneth Mitchell, a trumpeter, was President. Howard Barlow served as Secretary-Treasurer, while Capt. Druet continued as Vice President and Manager. Although the concerts were still given in Morro Bay, the group now styled itself simply “Community Orchestra” because its nearly forty players came from all over the County.

Things would change even more in 1959-60, for the 1959 Christmas program would be the last one given in Morro Bay. It was also the first in which the orchestra was joined by a choir, the Morro Bay Community Chorus, Directed by Hildur Lindgran Helgason. Then the big but inevitable change took place: The Community Orchestra moved to San Luis Obispo, for both rehearsals and concerts. The Spring concert of 1960 was given on May 1 at San Luis Obispo High School, and it featured a complete symphony, the orchestra’s first, by Haydn.

Capt. Druet was President for 1959-60, while Norm Babcock took over as Manager. The Concertmaster was the very accomplished Lois Morgan, and there were several new players who were to become fixtures. Dr. Evard Noble, a kindly optometrist from Paso Robles, was Principal Second; Fred Artindale, a piano tuner and an internationally recognized maker of stringed instruments, was Principal Viola; and Elinor Kogan, who would found the Alta Vista School, joined as Principal Cello. Ev Noble, indeed, would be with the orchestra for forty years.

By the Spring concert of 1960 it was clear that an astonishing amount had been accomplished in just a few years. That same concert, however, would also mark the end of the Symphony’s first period of growth. Luke Morrison had earned a year’s sabbatical which he decided to spend in Europe. Lois Morgan moved away. Old hands Art Druet and Howard Barlow hung on, but Norm Babcock and Eleanor Randall left. Change was in the air; what no one could foresee was that events of the following season would lead to an entirely new chapter in the Symphony’s history.

Next week…”The Sixties…Triumph and Tragedy”

P.S. Brandenburgs at the Mission is this Sunday, January 30th at Mission San Luis Obispo. Tickets are still available online, but they’re going fast. Click here for all the details and we hope to see you then!