Cleveland Orchestra: Charlie Chaplin's City Lights

Chrlie Chaplin's City Lights, a silent film with music by Charlie Chaplin (Flower Girl's Theme by Jose Padilla) orchestrated by Arthur Johnston and Alfred Newman, original scoring restored by Timothy Brock. William Eddins, conductor.

Leaving Severance Hall tonight a pair of women on the stairs was heard remarking to the other "How would you describe this to someone...you know someone who wasn't here?" and it's true -- it's difficult to describe.

Blossom Festival Orchestra: Disney Live In Concert: Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl

The Original Feature Film Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl with live underscoring by The Blossom Festival Orchestra with the Men of the Blossom Festival Chorus, prepared by Lisa Yozviak
Richard Kaufman, conductor.

It is true that I'm not a fan of the Pirates franchise -- perhaps it's tied to my fear of the Disney ride of the same name that (now inexplicably) permeated my early childhood -- I think it was a fire thing. Anyway, when I found out a friend was playing tonight's show at Blossom, I decided I'd give tonight's concert a spin. Visiting the Severance Hall Box Office yesterday afternoon to buy my ticket, the sounds of a rehearsal wafted out through the lobby I was hooked -- and looking forward to tonight's concert.

I'm a sucker for film music's drama and emotion; John Williams and Thomas Newman rank among my favorite composers.

Arriving at Blossom slightly over an hour before the 9PM concert, I was impressed to see cars out in the grass lots; once inside the gates the number of families spread across Blossom's expansive lawn easily rivaled the crowd that had assembled for the Fourth of July concert. Audience members and ushers alike got into the Arr of the moment with their pirate swag. Settling in to my pavilion seat just before the concert started an unmistakable whiff of the smell of buttered popcorn hit our section, with several--yours truly--left craving popcorn.

As the film and concert started the pre-recorded dialogue and sound effects seemed overly loud and quite boomy in the pavilion, however within a few minutes either this had been corrected or my ears had adjusted and the sound was reasonably balanced and intelligible, though I would have preferred if the orchestra was a bit louder in relationship, but that's more an exercises in hair splitting.

The music in films draws out emotion in romance, drama in action scenes and is just generally that extra seasoning that a lot of people may not consciously notice, but if absent it is conspicuously absent. Having the orchestra provide that seasoning live was a great touch and really highlighted the impact of the music. In the case of Pirates that music is generally soaring and dramatic.

Mr. Kaufman -- who was seen last year at Blossom conducting The Magical Music Of Disney and previously at Severance Hall for a Salute to John Williams in 2009 -- certainly drew that emotion out of the musicians, ranging from the lyrical romantic moments to the swashbuckling . The Men of the Blossom Festival Chorus, interestingly, were pretty much relegated to grunting, with no what-you-or-I-would-consider traditionally sung lyrics.

While the concert was musically satisfying, I was hugely disappointed by the technical quality: The lip sync between video and audio was horrendously off with audio leading video by about a half second*, which wound up giving me a headache. Compounding that frustration, at Intermission when I attempted to locate the House Manager to express my concerns not one of the half dozen ushers I asked had any idea if there even was a house manager, let alone who or where that person would be. As I worked my way back into the center of the pavilion I overheard countless patrons asking ushers "Is there a problem with..." and "Will they fix...", with the ushers generally brushing off the concerns, and as far as I could tell not relaying them to anyone.

(As an update, an acquaintance pointed out after the concert that if you were far enough up the hill the natrual delay of sound reaching your ear would minimize or eliminate the effect of the lip sync issue present in the pavillion and lower lawn)

Lincoln
*- By my very rough approximation. Also surprising, since based on my day job knowledge, this isn't a difficult problem to solve, especially compared to the opposite version of this problem. The technical issue is that each step of processing that happens to an audio or video signal adds delay. Assuming video and audio are in sync when they enter "the system", if one chain has more processing involved, and the other chain doesn't have enough artificial delay added, the two will no longer be in sync. And you'll give audience members headaches.

Paramount Pictures is in my Side Yard (And I Don't Think I Like It)

"Our eyes'll adjust, thank god for the Moon / maybe it's not the Moon at all, I hear that Spike Lee's shooting down the street / Bah humbug ... Bah Humbug" -- Light My Candle from the musical Rent (Mimi and Roger)

It's funny. Growing up in Southern California, home to Hollywood and all that jazz, some people assume that, well, Southern California = Hollywood, and therefore being from SoCal, I must be used to film making. That is not the case*.

No, instead, I'm subjected to the invasive hell of film making in my home in Cleveland Heights. For those who haven't heard, two movies are being shot in Cleveland this summer -- The Avengers (based on the comic book series, we "won" this production after the state of Michigan pulled tax incentives), and Fun Size (I'm still not entirely sure what this one is, but it's Halloween related, and something along the lines of sibling-looses-younger sibling).


I knew Fun Size was shooting in the Coventry Road Business District (aka Coventry Village) because my girlfriend works in one of the retail establishments and was visited by the filmmakers to give warning. What I didn't know was the Fun Size would be shooting at Boulevard Elementary School, my next door neighbor.

That "warning" came when I was woken at about 5:30 AM Thursday by the sound of a fleet of semis rolling into the parking lot next door, then sitting there idling for well over an hour. I am not a morning person. You do not get on my good side by waking me up before 7, much less before 6. (Here's my Twitter status update from when I had attained sufficient consciousness to successfully log on). After a day at the office -- wherein I was generally grumpy -- I came home and I thought it would be alright.

Then they fired up the generators, started trucks idling, and added a pinch of amazingly loud air conditioning running not long after I got home. Right next to my living room and master bedroom windows. (Literally if I opened my living room window and stuck a broom stick out, I could hit one of them). Ok. I can tolerate this for a few hours.

After my violin lesson, I met up with my GF and we hung out for a little while (but not as long as we otherwise might have because I was exhausted after having been woken up at five-freaking-thirty AM.) I go to drive her home and I find a mini-traffic jam, with a Cleveland Heights Police cruiser preventing traffic from entering my neighborhood. Fantastic. Before leaving, I roll down my window and ask the officer what the best way to get back is after I drop her off. "Just tell me when you get back". OK.

After dropping her off, I drive back. The officer gestures to try to get me to take the detour. I wait, roll down my window. "Excuse me, sir!" he comes over and I tell him where I live. He seems irritated, but tells me to wait while he clears out cars, then tells me to hurry. Not having ready access to the public streets around my own home is not doing anything to endear the filmmakers to me. But I make it home.

The generators, engines, and air conditioners are still going at full tilt. I'm tired, grumpy, and irritated. I'd probably be tired, grumpy, and irritated in any event, but the lack of notification from anyone that, hey, by the way we're going to be closing streets, making a ton of noise, and shining lights into your windows on these dates would have at least left me less p---ed off.

For those who don't know there's a common law right to quiet enjoyment: Essentially, as a property owner or tenant, I have the right to occupy my house free from the interference excessive noise, vibration, light, odor, etc. from surrounding properties... and Paramount's operations are most certainly interfering with my right to quiet enjoyment. Cleveland Heights also classifies disturbing noise as Disorderly Conduct**

After making it up to my 3rd floor master bedroom, I found that the noise was even more obnoxious than in my 2nd floor living room. I don't even get undressed. I go out side, corner the first person I see with a walkie talkie and ask for the location manager. He comes over, and we have a discussion. It is now 10:30 PM. I want to go to sleep.

I find out that shooting will be going on for another "5 or 6 hours" after which point they should shut the trailers down, until shooting resumes tomorrow night. Lovely. I have to say that the gentleman I've been speaking with is understanding, pleasant, apologetic, and generally nice -- which forestalled my initial instinct to just call CHPD (or walk over to one of the dozens of officers in the area) and ask that someone be cited for the noise violation. I had mentally prepared myself for an extensive argument, and that turned out not to be necessary.

I go up stairs and take a few Excedrin PM. It still takes me forever to fall asleep, and I don't sleep well. I wake up the next morning a bit groggy (Excedrin PM always does that to me) and make it into the office. After I get home from work, I meet with the contact to sign some paperwork so a check request can be generated. I'm not really thrilled by the offer, but I think all things considered it's a nice gesture from them (and less stress than trying to get an injunction, temporary restraining order or anything of of that sort).

Again last night they fired up the noise makers. I met my GF and a few of her friends for dinner, but made the decision to walk instead of drive to avoid that stress again. I make my way up to bed. The noise is at least as bad as last night. I take two more Excedrin PM. This morning I'm again a bit groggy, and wind up spending most of the day in bed enjoying the quiet. They aren't filming this weekend, they move to Coventry for Tuesday and Wednesday, and will be back at the school Friday. I just hope that they have a little more courtesy moving the trailers than doing it before 7AM

Lincoln

(Top picture is a view of the trailer village that popped up, from my one of my master bedroom windows; bottom picture is a shot of one of the trucks as seen from my side yard)
*- Although my now-deceased step-grandmother's home in Long Beach was used from time-to-time for location shooting (An episode of CBS's Criminal Minds was shot there) and just around the corner from the Ferris Bueller's Day Off house -- I was not involved in any of these.

**- Also included in the definition of Disorderly Conduct "The following acts, among others, are declared to be loud, disturbing and unreasonable noises in violation of this chapter, but such enumerations shall not be deemed to be exclusive, namely [...] (6) Heavy equipment. The use of heavy [...] equipment in close proximity to residential dwellings during the hours of 7:00 p.m. to 7:00 a.m." (Chapter 509.03(b), Codified Ordinances of the City of Cleveland Heights)

Gustavo Dudamel: Let The Children Play

"Perhaps it is music that will save the world" -- Pablo Casals

I first heard of El Sistema when I was introduced to City Music Cleveland's mission at a house concert with the Linden Quartet last year... the name resurfaced when I found out that Cleveland Orchestra Violinist and Heights Arts house concert organizer Isabel Trautwein was taking a sabbatical from the orchestra for an El Sistema-related fellowship...

Via the Cleveland Young Arts Professionals Network I learned the documentary "Dudamel: Let The Children Play" would be making a one-night-only appearance at a local movie theater -- and despite still not being fully over my cold I made my way to Severance Town Center (not to be confused with Severance Hall) for tonight's screening.

The event kicked off with an impactful piece from the League of American Orchestras promoting the diversity and impact of the American Orchestra -- including snapshots from orchestras around the country, with a young child leaning over the Box Level railing at Severance Hall making a cameo (I did resist the urge to shout "Oh! That's Severance!")

The actual prelude for the main event was a short piece titled "Crescendo" -- and I would be lying through my teeth if I said that I had any understanding at all of that piece's purpose, other than as a thinly veiled promo for CNN En Espanol.

Thankfully, the main act, Dudamel: Let The Children Play, was far more inspiring. For those who don't know the name, Gustavo Dudamel has been credited with renewed public interest in both the Los Angeles Philharmonic and classical music in general since he took over the post as the former's Music Director -- other than that I didn't know much about Mr. Dudamel. One of the first things we learned tonight is that Mr. Dudamel is a product of El Sistema, starting with a trumpet but short arms leading him to the violin, and many years later to the world stage as perhaps the most respected conductor of this generation.

Disturbingly, at times, Let The Children Play treats Mr. Dudamel as a Deity which was a bit disturbing... but on sum it was an amazingly moving documentary on how El Sistema has grown and impacted the lives of millions of children in dozens of countries since its founding three decades ago.

Perhaps most moving was the fact that across languages, much of the film was subtitled with Spanish being the predominant (but not only) language -- cultures, from Singapore and Scotland to Bolivia and Venezuela -- socioeconomic backgrounds and education -- music transcends to form a common language and inspiration for the children featured: A common thread is that be it Los Angeles or Caracas the children who are members of El Sistema-inspired orchestras profess that they are free-er and more inspired participating in their Orchestra -- and learning the importance of collaboration and teamwork -- than they are in school.

Lincoln

FiveOne Music: Sonic Cinema (Experimental Orchestra, at Cleveland Public Theater)

Thompson: Quintet: Summer 2010 (Video: Tolliver)
Nowakowski: Quuntet No. 1
Zare: Phobos (Video: Wibanks)
Allen: Resonance (Video: Jones)
Bratt: Chronicles of Laughing Yesterday (Video: Kasumi)
At the James Levin Theater, part of Cleveland Public Theatres' Big[BOX] Series
(See the end of this post for a complete lists of he artists involved in the musical side of this project)

I hadn't heard of FiveOne Music until recently when a friend suggested this program as something I might be interested in. FiveOne's interesting, but daunting mission and vision speaks of a lack of boundaries to a new perspective on musical works and to challenge concertgoers through a collaboration of some sixteen musicians and composers .

And challenged would be a good adjective for my initial impression with Quintet: Summer 2010. When approaching any work -- visual or auditory -- the overarching questions I try to answer are "How do I feel?" and "How did the artist want me to feel?". Summer 2010 was presented in two movements with two distinct pieces of video. The first movement, Hawaiian Blue, didn't really connect with me on a visual or an auditory level; Screaming with the Circuits, the second movement, really grabbed me rhythmically but I didn't sense the connection to the accompanying visuals. As the piece ended and I realized that I felt an almost primal connection to the music, and on that note -- rightly or wrongly -- the video mixing politicians and primates made sense. I loved the persistent sound that developed throughout the work.

Quintet No. 1 didn't really captivate me, however, I was struck by some interesting and rather unusual sounds from the piano in the piece. While the music was interesting to listen to, the program note for Roger Zare's Phobos with video by Ross Willbanks speaks of uncertainty, tension, and an adrenaline rush but I didn't sense any of these emotions stirring within me in response to the music or the video.

The counterpoint to that rather apathetic reaction, though could be found with Jeremy Allen's Resonance. Played on solo piano in a blacked out room with synchronization to a video, it was the only piece on the program where the video and music felt as if they were a perfect couple unlike the comparatively awkward first dates of the other pieces. The beautifully lit and wonderfully executed video presents a musician in a warehouse alone with piano; beginning gracefully and devolving into an almost painful to watch sledgehammer-driven destruction of that instrument. The piano and pianist creating the music to accompany the visuals were submerged in darkness, but the notes the emerged were just as clear as the video. During the experience of seeing and hearing this piece, it struck me as the struggle, frustration, and inspiration of the creative process...and in reading the program note after the piece, it seems that was precisely the artists goal. Well done.

The program concluded with Michael Bratt's Chronicles of Laughing Yesterday; though I didn't feel as strong a connection between music and video both were delightful to encounter, with some subtle humor in both.

Non musically, for the first two pieces, the lights on the conductor's music stand were positioned in a way to be nearly blinding and quite distracting from the video, but the light also highlighted Violinist Ms. Furuta's facial expressions and were an interesting study in a musician's exertion and immediate reaction to both the conductor and the music.

The Musicians of FiveOne Music are: Melisse Brunet, conductor; Madeline Lucas, flute; Anthony Slusser, clarinet; Conrad Jones, trumpet; Doug Jones, trombone; Doug Jones, tuba; Adam Whiting, piano; Joeseph Rebman, harp; Jonathan Thompson, electric guitar; Nathan Von Trotha, William Delelles, percussion; Elizabeth Fututa, Deborah Milburn, violin; Timothy Mauthe, viola; Anna Bowman, cello; Jeremy Allen, Michael Bratt, composer.

This program repeats Saturday February 19th at 7:30 PM and and Sunday at 3:00 PM.

Lincoln

Cleveland Play House: This Wonderful Life

(Through December 19th at the Cleveland Play House, 8500 Euclid Ave)

Complimenting the beautiful display of Christmas Trees in the lobbies, the Cleveland Play House is presenting a fresh take on a seasonal classic with This Wonderful Life (an adaptation of Frank Capra's It's A Wonderful Life).

I wasn't really sure what I had purchased a ticket for (a ticket acquired on pure impulse--"One for the next show, please" during the Light Up The Night festivities earlier this week) and had some fear when I learned it was a one-man show. The theatrical Christmas show is just about as hackneyed as a department store's Black Friday sale. The one-man show is a risky venture for both theatres and audience: Inexpensive to produce, if the audience hates that one-man they hate the entire cast.

This Wonderful Life, though, is a risk that pays dividends. The one man, James Leaming inhabits his characters. Arriving a bit early I caught the tail end of a talkback he was hosting; as talkback gave way to the audience invocation gave way to the action the transition was seamless; Mr. Leaming greeted arriving audience members, gave the cellphones-and-exits speech (though he didn't mention if seat cushions could be used for floatation) and then the real entertainment began. Though not roll-on-the-floor funny there are plenty of asides, tongue-in-cheek references, restrained sight gags, and double entendres sprinkled throughout to keep things amusing.

One challenge I often have with one-man/one-woman shows is filtering through the noise of over-the-top costume changes or accents and to keep track of who is whom. There are no costume changes, though the occasional accent is sparingly used to add depth.

Though the general plot is unlikely to surprise anyone even vaguely familiar with the film, looking at it in a wholly new context brings fresh clarity and relevance to the classic, and that ultimately selflessness reaps bountiful harvests and true friends are of immeasurable value.

This holiday season value your loved ones and friends...and seek always to make new friends.

Lincoln

Never Judge a Book By Its Movie

Quite a while ago I posted on the immesurable connection I felt between myself and Ryan Bingham, the fictional character at the center of both the novel and flim Up In The Air.

I enjoyed the film enough that it joined my DVD collection -- that is, the four other discs sitting next to my DVD player in the equipment rack downstairs; I also figured that the novel--ordered from my friendly neighborhood bookstore, Mac's Backs on Coventry--would be worth the read. When I say "novel" I do mean the dead tree, ink on paper version, which--despite my predisposure to technology--I find so much more tangibly satisfying than an eBook.

Years ago I heard the line "You should never judge a book by its movie", and that's certainly the case here: Beyond the first few chapters the two follow radically different storylines, with the chief antagonist in the film entirely missing in the novel.

The novel doesn't benefit from quite the variety of oneliners that make their way into the film but I think paints a much more accurate picture of the road warrior, take for example this quote from Page 91 of the trade paperback:

I pour a glass of water to drink in bed but but it tastes of chlorine, so I collect some change and step out into the hall to find a soda. Paper menus with early-morning breakfast order, and I read a few of them. Coffee, juice and muffins -- they're all the same. If the doors were to become transparent suddenly, the people behind them would all be the same, too: asleep with the
news on, their bags beside their beds, their next day's outfits hanging on the desk chairs."

I have done this. Usually, though I skip the questionably-clean glass of questionable-quality water and head straight for the soda machine (the reason, at any given moment there will undoubtedly be somewhere between $5.00 and 5 pounds of change in my laptop bag): Sprite if I'm in a Coke house; Mountain Dew if I'm in a Pepsi house. I leave a set of clothes at the ready for the next day -- or the midnight fire alarm [Usually immediately followed by the question of how anyone could possibly burn microwave popcorn in a hotel room microwave]. The hotel room television serves as white noise from the moment I take up residence to the moment I leave. Though I'm not one for breakfast, there is a voyeuristic thrill that comes from surveiling the breakfast orders, yet they are undoubtedly nearly identical from door to door.

The quote continues:

"The Coke machine isn't where it ought to be, in a nook by the
stairwell. I'm disappointed in Homestead--they've let things slide. The soul of their business is predictability, and if I were consulting for them I'd yank the name off of any unit caught screwing with the blueprint.
I walk down a floor and resume my search. [...]"

While I simultaneously admire and despise the homogeneity of the hotels that I have slaved myself to -- Hiltons, Embassies, DoubleTrees, Garden Inns, Homewood Suites, and Hamptons, oh my -- particularly with regard to the Homewood Suites and Hampton Inns there is a simple pleasure that comes from not having to search for a soda machine. When in one of those properties, however, and the soda machine is not in the carefully crafted nook (by the elevators for Hamptons, by the stairwell for Homewoods) it is an immensely frustrating experience and if sufficiently undercafinated or late at night can be enough to cause you to question the existence of your chosen deity. (If not on this floor, do they exist in this building? Should I go up or down? Is it hiding somewhere else? What if there's only one and it's out of order?!? Panic begins to set in.)

One the flip side, Hiltons and Doubletrees have far less of a standard floor plate so you wander from one end to the other looking for that fluorescent-lit beacon in the night and the telltale hum of the refrigerator motor. Sometimes you find one, sometimes you cover several floors before determining that the hotel is too upscale to pander to such groundling tastes*, instead expecting you to raid the minibar (if available), order room service, or traipse to the hotel gift shop--both of which have frequently closed mere moments before the hydration craving sets in. You admit defeat.

The end of the book left me a little unfulfilled, but perhaps due to my close personal connection to it it is one of my more enjoyable reads of late. Walter Kern does an amazing job of capturing the essence of modern travel.

"To know me is to fly with me"

Lincoln
* - For examples, Waldorf-Astoria, NYC: I found the 24 hour CVS two tenths of a mile down Lexington Avenue, and stocked up before retiring each night; DoubleTree Hotel Philadelphia: I lucked out and discovered the absence of vending machines while the gift shop was open and put something on ice; Hilton Times Square - Another nearby drug store saved the day; Hilton San Francisco Financial District: Had vending machines, but the Chinatown convenience store 1/4 of a mile past the hotel's front door had a much better selection. Colder too.

Up In The Air

So I don't normally post on the mainstream film I see; largely because I view mainstream film as a mindless escape -- somewhere where I can go sit in a dark room and turn my brain off for a few hours.

Up In The Air, however, is noteworthy. In several respects I am Ryan Bingham (George Clooney's character)... on some levels that disturbs me; on most levels it probably should distrurb me. The film's poster is that of a man staring out a window at a 747. That window is next to Gate A40 at Detroit Metro Airport's (DTW) McNamara Terminal. I have stared out that window more times -- and for more hours than I care to admit.

The Film's tag line is "The Story of a Man Ready To Make a Connection" -- I'm going to stop short of calling it this blog, but the connection welcomes itself.


While not exactly a road warrior by most definitions -- I've only spent about 50 nights in hotels since January 1st and only fly about 30,000 miles in the average year; but a quote early on in the film "All the things you probably hate about traveling are warm reminders that I am home" resonates. I should probably be ashamed to admit it, but I dig Elite status (Carrying Continental Silver Elite, Delta/Northwest Silver Medallion, and Hilton HHonors Diamond credentials). I speak near-fluent airport codes. I wouldn't mind the hotel bar scene where Ryan meets Alex (Vera Farmiga) playing itself out in real life -- however, the later turn in their relationship was disheartening. Careerwise I find little in common; the travel and relationships... Maybe there is hope for me.

Hmmm...

Lincoln

Here's the trailer:

CIA: American Casino And It's Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas

Just in case last night's Cleveland Orchestra concert wasn't enough to nudge me into the Christmas spirit, today -- the first meaningful snow on this side of town is certainly helping.

As a technology geek, ahem, professional, I'm ashamed to admit that I don't own a digital camera, the below stills came from my home:

Since I don't have to shovel anything yet I'm still in the "oh, isn't it cute" phase of winter. I decided I needed a movie today... something to get me out of the house without involving the outdoors or requiring putting any attention to the way I looked in public... I actually have been in the mood for a few weeks but nothing mainstream sufficiently moved me.

I noticed American Casino was on the schedule for CIA's Cinamatheque this evening and the topic intrigued me, so I made my way that direction for the 5:30 showing.

The film is, essentially, a documentary on the Wall Street/Housing
meltdown and it is informative but it doesn't really reveal any new information. Aside from a reference to Wall Street being a casino early on in the film the title is never really developed, and by taking a scatter shot approach to story telling -- some politicians, some displaced homeowners, some former employees of the various financial concerns, even several different cities -- you're left with a feeling more that you've gotten a very general survey than developing anything approaching an in-depth look; I also found it very hard to develop a connection with any of the individuals. Dobama's The Cleveland Plays, Part II: Dream/Home last season covered pretty much all of the same ground but really drew you into a more personal connection with the individuals.

Near the end of the film, though, it was a little depressing to see Riverside County, California featured, as I grew up in Southern Riverside County. During this segment it was interesting to learn the tertiary impact of foreclosed/vacant homes in the manner of pest control: Pools get turned off to save money, algae grows, mosquitoes multiply and spread disease; meanwhile vegetation grows uncontrolled creating a fine habitat for snakes... and of course the costs to abate both of those issues are borne by the taxpayer.

Lincoln

CIA Cinematheque - twofer

Last Sunday I did the Cleveland Institute of Art Cinematheque's The Limits of Control. I just didn't get it... though it did prompt me to buy a Violin on eBay. Long story.

Today I did "Examined Life" which was an interesting philosophical peice. It started strong but somewhere around the midpoint I felt like it lost its message or focus... But the "The Unexamined Life is Not Worth Living" (I've always thought that line belonged to Socrates but the film credits it to Plato)