CIM Orchestra @ Severance Hall: Kabalevsky/Prokofiev/Tchaikovsky

Kabalevsky: Overture to Colas Breugnon, The master of Clamecy, Op. 24
Prokofiev: Sinfonia Concertante for Cello and Orchestra in E Minor, Op. 129 (Matthew Allen, cello)
Tchaikovsky: Symphony No. 4 in F Minor, Op. 36
Carl Topilow, conductor.

A friend joined me for her second visit to Severance Hall and her second time with the CIM Orchestra (no, the two did not share, the same first time) with this evening's Cleveland Institute of Music concert in Severance Hall. Making our way up to the Dress Circle and settling in shortly before the concert's 8pm start time, I wasn't sure what to expect from an evening of Russian music. My high expectations for CIM students were not let down and -- despite a rather noticeable cold air draft -- my friend enjoyed herself.

Opening the program with a composer that neither of us had heard of, Mr. Topilow wasted no time between taking the podium and launching into Dimitri Kabalevsky's speedy overture. It struck me as romantic, richly textured and climatic...oh and did I say fast paced? Though I didn't conjure any images along the ride, I can think of few reasons not to call this my favorite of the evening--by a bow hair. Overtures rarely do my short-by-nature attention span wrong, and this was no exception.

The middle piece, Prokofiev's Sinfonia Concertante was quite a departure from the overture that preceded it being quite a bit slower and less to-the-point, perhaps demonstrating CIM students' turn-on-a-dime versatility. Though I can't point to a specific measure, the first movement (andante) seemed a painting where the Matthew Allen's cello was the
crystal clear sharply-focused foreground and the orchestra was a diffused background.
In the second movement (allegro giusto), on the other hand, the cello stuck me as an artist struggling against the majority represented by the orchestra, overcoming, and eventually joining. The third movement, by contrast, didn't seem to create a story in my mind.

Closing out the program was Tchaikovsky's Symphony No. 4. In listening to this piece in its entirety it seems unmistakably from the hand of Tchaikovsky. Perhaps because I had ballet on the mind (my friend and I were discussing the Celesta used in the Prokofiev piece, and also used by Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker) or perhaps from the sheer lyrical nature of the music it was very easy to -- and very difficult not to -- imagine dance choreographed to this music*. While I couldn't imagine a storyline or protagonist/antagonist relationship as I tend to do, the movement of imaginary dancers was crystal clear.

The third movement scherzo featured extensive use of pizzicato, a technique I rather enjoy when done properly -- and it was done properly. On the other hand, my friend commented, and I have to agree that the brass during the quite climatic ending of the fourth movement seemed a little too loud compare to the rest of the orchestra. But it was still a wonderful piece.

Lincoln
*- A resident professional ballet company is, to the best of my knowledge, one of the few performing arts forms lacking in Cleveland.

Cleveland Museum of Art: Save The Date/Atrium Preview

Most people who know me know that I love pulling back the curtain -- looking behind the scenes, touring buildings while construction is in progress, attending rehearsals -- anything to see how something comes into being, and in a way how something evolves.

That's why I was delighted when a very good friend invited me to the Cleveland Museum of Art's "Save the Date" event last night, in the Museum's grand new atrium. I wasn't sure what to expect from the space or event, but entering the atrium I've been eagerly peering into through a 12" portal for the past couple years I was a bit awe-struck. The west wing is only a skeleton of steel; the north wing galleries and office space are open studs with the beginning of drywall. Scaffolding is covering a portion of the 1916 building...construction equipment is scattered, the floor is unadorned concrete...The atrium's glass ceiling is finished.

In addition to my attraction to construction in progress I've always found some attraction to the trendy-party-in-a-gritty-abandoned-warehouse concept that seems to appear in movies yet I've never found in real life -- but this struck me as a very close substitute in terms of the physical texture. (Attendees were required to sign a construction liability waiver, but hard hats were not required)

From the precarious perch of a scissor lift, museum Director David Franklin announced to the assembled crowd that he was proud to announce the $350 million acquisition of a piece of art entitled "Construction Site". While clearly a joke (with a few laughs from the crowd), even in this state the scale of the atrium an the project it is a part of is clear; it will be an amazing space both for the museum and the City of Cleveland, and if the level of finish seen in the phases completed thus far is maintained, the finished product will be a work of art.

That "finishing" -- the grand reopening of the Cleveland Museum of Art -- is now set for December 31st, 2013. Planning ahead, let alone two and three-quarters years ahead is something rather notoriously not done by the male side of my family...but if they'd let me I'd be thrilled to RSVP now.

After the introduction the party adjourned to the museum's North Lobby and Gallery 101 -- the typical location for events like the member's reception -- with a great assortment of food and drink. The rooms were simply buzzing with excitement, and after working the room for a while my friend and I found a bench and chatted until the crowd thinned.

Lincoln

Lincoln in Kansas (City) Day, Um.... [Museums and Such]

So you may have noticed that I didn't post anything for the past two days despite being in Kansas. Simply, nothing remotely bloggable happened -- I met with my clients for 8 or more hours, then retreated to the hotel room to catch up on email &c. I did find a local BBQ Place that's pretty good, and some more localized chains -- all within walking distance of the hotel; for some reason I really like walking. Aside from that it's been pretty quiet.

This morning with some loose ends tied up I found myself with a day more-or-less free to explore. Everything that I had thrown into Google (Kansas City Art Museum, &c.) pointed to the other Kansas City -- i.e. Missouri, or KCMO -- as being the place to be.

So I ventured over there. #1 on my list (of one item) was the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art. While I was researching the Nelson-Atkins, I discovered that they're mounting an exhibition of Monet's Triptych Water Lilies, reuniting the three panels for the first time in decades. One of those three panels is owned by the Cleveland Museum of Art. The exhibition doesn't open to the public until this weekend and I figured that I would miss it. But after I arrived at the museum, I discovered that this was the exhibition's Member's Preview Days.

I approached the information desk, showed my CMA membership card ("Fellow" level; I never leave home without it)... and I asked if I could sneak in. Moments later I had a ticket in hand, and they were even kind enough to validate my parking (since Nelson-Atkins members always park for free, a nice perk if I do say so myself). I wasn't sure what to expect for a single-artwork exhibition: It opens with some background information on Monet and his works. Rounding the corner to see the three panels for the first time it was spine tingling. I'm rather familiar with the Cleveland Museum of Art's portion of the triptych -- the left most panel, it turns out -- but completely unfamiliar with the entire work.

While each panel is substantial on its own, the three together create an amazing panorama. The exhibition includes quite a bit of information about the structure of the works including paint layering, a photo of the work in progress and more. Another highlight on display at the Nelson-Atkins is James Naismith's original, type-written 1891 rules for the game of "Basket Ball" -- yes, the original 13 type-written rules that still, to a large extent define the sport evolved to be Basketball. I'm not much (ok, any) of a sports fan, but seeing a document that has survived for 120 years and is still relevent was amazing.

The museum's collection is comprehensive and of high quality. I was particularly drawn to their photographic holdings, which include the entirety of the former Hallmark Photography Collection and spans the entire history of photography from the early 1800s to the present.

In their contemporary galleries I was amused by the presence of Donald Judd's "Large Stack", continuing the tradition of every museum I've attended with a contemporary collection having one of Mr. Judd's collection of boxes -- I don't think any two are identical, but they are instantly recognizable as Mr. Judd's work. On an opposite wall was Mr. Judd's Untitled (Progression), which I think is the first work by that artist that didn't involve a stack of identical boxes, and I found it much more visually intriguing.

After wandering through the majority of the galleries, I took a break for fresh air and stepped outside the Kansas City Sculpture Park. If the general Beaux Arts design of the museum's 1933 Building, the terraced (in this case with grass rather than marble) step down to a large open space (in this case a large lawn with jumbo badminton shuttlecocks rather than a fountain and Wade Lagoon) wasn't enough to conjure a connection to the Cleveland Museum of Art the presence of one of a casting of Rodin's Thinker on the terrace has to cement it.

While waiting for my lunch (yeah, I know I'm breaking chronological order), I figured I'd read the Wikipedia article for Nelson-Atkins... and clarity instantly came with "The building's classical beaux-arts architecture style was modeled on the Cleveland Museum of Art..." (I really encourage you read the History section of the Wikipedia article). Another wonderful similarity between CMA and the Nelson-Atkins Museum are both offer free admission every day that they're open.

Getting back to chronological order, after wandering through the sculpture garden and decrying the on-site restaurant's menu as too frou-frou (I've never found an art museum with a cafe serving food I'm actually interested in eating) I figured I'd explore Kansas City a bit on food. No maps. No plans. No destination. I wound up in Kansas City's Country Club Plaza which strikes me a as a fairly organic up-scale shopping district limning both sides of Emanuel Cleaver II Boulevard. The only food options I initially noticed were all universally high end chain restaurants.

On the way back, by chance I zigged onto a side street and found "Blanc Burgers+Bottles". I talked myself out of an alcoholic beverage but had a pretty good stuffed blue cheese burger and fries (served in a miniature shopping cart). I loved the decor -- clean lines, white, orange, and mirrors ruled the day -- and it ranks among the most contemporary places I've eaten. I wish there were more places like this (that I knew of) in Cleveland, where dark seems to rule the day. Following lunch I waked back through the sculpture garden but detoured to the Kemper Museum of Contemporary Art -- also free to the public -- with an impromptu tour of the perimeter of the Kansas City Art Institute campus along the way.

The Kemper is pretty small with relatively few (mostly large-scale) works on display, but the quality and visual intrigue is high. I stopped by the gift shop on the way out, and a very cute robot made out of re-purposed household items (including a band-aid box for the torso and forks for the limbs) reminded me of the paper crafts of a friend. I really...really... wanted to take it home with me. It's just that cute. But at $242 I need to think about it a bit. The good news is I'll be back in Kansas in another week so if I can talk myself into it between now and then at least I have that option.

It had started to rain heavily while I was in the Kemper so I made the straight line (fortunately...remember no maps... I was navigating solely by gut) back to Nelson-Atkins, finished my way through the galleries... took a few minutes to meditate on a bench... and left. I tried visiting Union Terminal -- home to a model railroad exhibit and the Kansas City Rail Experience, but as apparently all of the attractions in the building close at 4:00 and I arrived at 4:15...no trains for me (on this trip). The building, though, is a magnificent edifice to what the glory of transportation used to be -- soaring and decorated ceilings, wide open spaces. I fly home tomorrow. Though this trip has actually gone much better than I expected, I am once again looking forward to returning to my own bed.

Lincoln

27 States in (almost) 27 Years: Lincoln in Kansas Day 1

Monday, April 4th. State #27(*) in my list of states I've visited is officially checked off my list of states -- just over a month out from my 27th birthday. (Note the lower map includes only flights, not any of my road trips)

So far my time in Kansas has been uneventful... beautiful blue skies with white clouds. I'm in Olathe, south of Kansas City, Kansas. Sadly, Olathe -- at least the corner that my hotel and project are located in, pretty much looks like any other modern suburban city: Shopping centers laid out predictably and chock full of national brands. When I'm on the road I usually like to try local establishments -- or at least regional chains.

I joke (perhaps unfairly, I realize as I grow older) that the 'local stores' in Temecula while I was growing up were Target and McDonald's. -- and it seems to be the case here as well. While looking at non-descript shopping plaza after non-descript shopping plaza, I why I'm drawn to the "big city" -- aside from the energy that radiates from somewhere like Manhattan or San Francisco -- each has an undeniably unique character that has evolved through the people, food, and architectural expression... even cities that don't radiate energy, like Detroit, have their unique pulses. I'm not getting that unique pulse so far.

Kansas City (Missouri or Kansas) has a few things that pique my interest, most notably the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art [curiously, the Nelson-Atkins logo looks virtually identical to the logo used by the Cleveland Museum of Art on their ticket envelopes], unfortunately the museum's hours are such that that will have to wait until Thursday. Interestingly, one of the Cleveland Museum of Art's better-known (and larger!) pieces, Claude Monet's Water Lilies will be joining its companion pieces on exhibit at Nelson-Atkins beginning April 9th -- I won't be seeing it this visit, but I might try to make a stop by the next time I'm in Kansas City in about two weeks.

I have a rant about Continental Airlines' incompetence with changing a full-fare (aka most expensive possible ticket) reservation... and I typed it out. Then I realized no one's really interested in the nitty-gritty so I'll just mail that to Customer Service instead. Sigh. I used to really like Continental.

Lincoln
*- My official criteria for counting a state as visited is either eating a meal or sleeping at least one night in the state. Most of my states have no trouble meeting both of these criteria, but I feel a bit like I cheated with Wisconsin -- spending a couple hours driving through the scenic middle of nowhere on the Western edge of the state (while driving from an origin in Minnesota to a destination in Minnesota)... finding nothing in the way of "real food" with my flight's departure time approaching, I cheated with a hot dog, bag of chips, and soda eaten in a gas station parking lot. Kentucky, on the other hand arguably qualifies since CVG (the "Cincinnati Airport") is actually in Covington, Kentucky and I most certainly ate a meal there... but since I never left the airport...

Heights Arts: Haydn, Janacek, and Brahms (House Concert Series)

Haydn: String Quartet in F Minor, Op. 20, No. 5
Janacek: String Quartet No. 1 ("Kreutzer Sonata")
Brahms: String Sextet No. 1 in B-flat Major, Op. 18*
The Omni String Quartet (Amy Lee, Alicia Kolez, violins; Joanna Patterson, viola; Tanya Ell, cello)
* - With Roxanna Patterson, viola; Mark Kosower, cello
Tanya Ell, guest artistic director.
At the Dunham Tavern Museum Barn, Cleveland.

During tonight's concert -- featuring five members of the The Cleveland Orchestra and one orchestra member's parent by special appearance -- once again I was struck by how fortunate Clevelanders are. The barn, yes, the barn -- a slightly rustic space tucked in an often overlooked corner on Euclid Avenue, next to the hulking skeleton of a long-abandoned factory building, and behind the oldest building in Cleveland still on its original foundation -- hosted those musicians and an enthusiastic audience with countless Orchestra members mixed among newcomers and regulars alike. Amongst those orchestra members in the audience was the orchestra's newest violinist, Ms. Katherine Bormann. It's thrilling to see musicians dedicated to their craft and who clearly don't view their orchestra playing as just a job -- and it shows what good hands the musical reputation of the orchestra is in.

In the front row at tonight's concert I found myself mere inches away from these performers, mesmerized at fingers navigating their fingerboards with the grace and speed of a hummingbird. The final piece on the evening's program with two musicians added to the front of the room, Brahms' Sextet, brought violinist Ms. Lee even closer -- "I'm afraid I'm going to hit you" she quietly cautioned the patron next to me. With the enthusiasm with which that piece was played there were moments where I was afraid to exhale, both for fear of breaking the amazing emotion of the music and for fear of disrupting the arc of Ms. Lee's bow. (The de regur theme park admonishment to "please keep all arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times..." ran through my head each time I contemplated shifting in my seat).

That level of intimacy exposes details that simply can't be captured in the traditional concert setting and makes for an absolutely spellbinding evening. Mr. Kosower, still a relative newcomer as the Cleveland Orchestra's principal cello and Ms. Roxana Patterson, mother of Joanna and in Cleveland on a trip from her Seattle home for this concert, were both delightful additions to the program and left no doubt as to musical talent.

For the second piece on the program Ms. Ell introduced Janacek's Kreutzer Sonata (String Quartet No. 1) based on a censored novel by Russian author Leo Tolstoy, proving some exceedingly helpful background information as well as a few measures each of several themes that can be heard in the piece and her interpretation of their relation to events in the novel.

The Sonata, much like Cleveland Weather, changed moods frequently -- from the use of moving notes that impressioned a train ride, to the romance and illicit affair between married student and teacher, the angst and jealousy of the husband upon discovering the affair, the explosion of murder, and the smooth return to sanity. While it was thrilling to hear all of the musicians play, the sound of angst rising from Ms. Patterson's viola and Ms. Kolez's violin was unmistakable, and unlike anything I've heard from those instruments before.

Ms. Ell, my favorite cellist and one of my favorite musicians. She plays with enviable musical expression that's unmistakable to anyone within earshot, but she also plays with physical expression such that this author can be caught with a slack-jawed stare. The Janacek piece was particularly expressive. I suppose it has to be seen to be understood but in watching her facial expressions there is no lack of confidence nor can the observer have any doubt as to her understanding of the mood of the music.

Preceding these two amazing works, I didn't feel as strong a connection to Haydn's String Quartet as I did the other pieces. In considering it, I have to say that I felt almost exactly the same about his Symphony No. 96 on last night's Orchestra program.

But where else can you find 6 world-class musicians playing in a barn?

Lincoln

Cleveland Orchestra: Gutierrez Plays Rachmaninoff

Beethoven: Allegretto from Symphony No. 7

Haydn: Symphony No. 96 ("Miracle") in D major

Rachmaninoff: Piano Concerto No. 2 in C minor, Op. 18 (Horacio Guitierrez, piano)

Dvorak: Symphony No. 7 in D minor, Op. 70

Jiri Belohlavek, conductor

Something felt off -- not just off, but very off -- about tonight's concert. I can't put my finger on it but the je ne sais qois was missing.

The concert started with the Allegretto (second) movement from Beethoven's Symphony No. 7 in tribute to the survivors and those who lost their lives in the Japanese tsunami and earthquake; the program requested a moment of silence at the conclusion of the movement. The music was stirringly soulful, and time seemed to stand still as a respectful silence enveloped the hall. Time resumed when Mr. Belohlavek stepped off the podium and the silence was broken by the first tentative applause.

Sandwiched between the Beethoven and Rachmaninoff, Haydn's Symphony 96 ("Miracle") felt insubstantial and superficial -- and like an odd programming choice.

Rachmaninoff's second piano concerto returned to the soulful feeling of the Beethoven and it was delightful to watch Mr. Gutierrez's fingers on the keyboard. The program note -- written by a name that I don't recognize -- reference to Rachmaninoff's "composers block" and how, on turning to professional help, "heard the same hypnotic formula repeated day after day..." and this piece had its hypnotic tendencies.

Closing out the program was Dvorak's Symphony No. 7. I have to day that I was a bit let down. I consider Dvorak one of my favorite composers -- and perhaps my favorite in the "true classical" sense -- with Symphony No. 9 ("From the New World") being one of my favorite symphonic works -- but this didn't sound like other Dvorak pieces I've heard. While there were some swells in the second and fourth movements where the strings sung, I generally wasn't captivated.

Lincoln

Welcome, South Dakota -- the 52 Google States of America

This blog doesn't generate much in the way of comments, and while I know several people read frequently (Thank You!) but don't follow (Thank You!) so I've turned to -- or perhaps better put become somewhat addicted by -- the Google Analytics reports which give me a snapshot of where readers are coming from (and proof that there are indeed readers and I'm not just insanely talking to myself--which I have been known to do, ask any of my coworkers).

On one hand I was impressed that I had readers from 51 of Google's 52 United States of America (the two extra states, if you're curious, being "Washington DC" and "Undefined") pretty early on in this great experiment. Likewise, I had visitors from 6 continents and several dozen countries pretty early on.

But until this week I've been missing South Dakota.

I've tried to fathom an explanation for why my musings would attract interest from the 49 other states (even the non-continental ones for goodness sakes!), federal territory, and undefined corners of our nation but not a single peep from South Dakota. I've been thinking about asking the question publicly, but I thought the mere act of mentioning the state's name might unnaturally attract attention and skew an already highly unscientific survey.

Well that has changed--at some point over the past week, I can't say precisely when--my first visitor from South Dakota has arrived. Welcome to my humble blog, South Dakota.

Curiously, while I've had 15 unique visitors from Moscow (yes, that Moscow) I've still only had one from South Dakota. But that one is welcome. I no longer have a hole in my map.

Google Analytics is not without faults -- it classifies Puerto Rico as a country -- but still I'm amazed by the number of readers (just under 8,000 unique visitors since the beginning of 2010) from the number of places (69 "countries" -- see the note about Puerto Rico above -- with the most popular being the US (7,100), Canada (200), United Kingdom (115), with Japan and Germany rounding out the top five)

As usual, it's probably time I stop rambling, but thanks for reading my blog, especially if you're one of the regulars. Feel free to tell friends --- or to call me an idiot. I actually like it when people disagree with me, as long as there is a logical basis to that disagreement.

Lincoln