Cleveland Orchestra: Tchaikovsky's Piano Concerto

Liadov: Eight Russian Folk Songs, Op. 58
Tchaikovsky: Piano Concerto No. 1 in B-flat major, Op. 23 (Krill Gerstein, piano)
Prokofiev: Symphony No. 3 in C minor, Op. 44
Vassily Sinaisky, conductor.

A concert in three courses. Opening tonight, Liadov's Eight Russian Folk Songs was a delightful eight-movements-in-fifteen-minutes taste of everything, surprisingly not plagued by the Cleveland orchestra since 1984. Though was of the movements had names calling for imagery -- "Religious Chant" or "Tale of the gnat" for example, the beginning of was movement had me a little off expectations, but as the movement progressed the realization that the title was apt hit me on each case. Particularly notable in that sense was "Christmas Song ('Kolyada')" -- which was not so much a western Christmas but a eastern European nutcracker. Most enjoyable however, were the restrained but lively Round Dance, reminiscent of a small gathering, and the expansive Village Dance Song more seeming as a communal celebration.

Proceeding with the evening, I noticed the concert was generally trending in the direction of "loud" followed by "louder" -- while I like loud, by the end of the concert my ears were physically exhausted and it seemed like much of the dynamics had been lost. Of course, during one relatively quiet moment during towards the end of the first movement of the piano concerto I could no longer hold back a throaty cough after several stunted sputters...and I became "that guy".

For Prokofiev's Symphony, the strings were particularly strong but surprisingly not really captivating and I cannot put my finger on why.

Lincoln

Column and Stripe Tour of the Cleveland Museum of Art Conservation Lab (@clevelandart)

Mr. Knutas with Van Gogh's The Road Menders,
prepared for loan, in the Paintings Lab

This evening Rachel I had the pleasure of attending a tour and talk by Per Knutas, Chief Conservator of the Cleveland Museum of Art, as part of a program hosted by Column and Stripe, the Cleveland Museum of Art's affiliate group for young friends.

I've found conservation fascinating both for the ethical and technical challenges and questions posed -- and Rachel has conservation work experience (including, most impressively to me reconstructing the shell of an ostrich egg from over 100 individual pieces while living in Italy) so there was no doubt we would attend this evening's program. I was particularly interested because while Rachel has volunteered in the labs the only part of the tightly-secured conservation suite I've see is the classroom and I'm always up for a behind-closed-doors tour.

Illustrating the level of documentation
that may be associated with the
conservation of a single work.

Per, a relatively new addition to the Cleveland Museum of Art staff, started the evening in the Conservation classroom with an overview of both the profession in general and Conservation at the Cleveland Museum of art, including the ethical considerations such as that everything a conservator does must be documented and reversible. I found it interesting to hear that different considerations apply between "modern" works, where a greater level intervention and consultation with the artist is permitted, versus historical pieces where a very conservative approach is taken.

The Rembrandt amongst the conservator's tools
(Click for a larger version)

Delving further into the inner sanctum -- and uncharted territory for myself and most of the attendees -- lab doors were opened and the covers were literally lifted off of works in the process of being conserved by the museum's staff of science-driven artisans. Take, for example, a Rembrandt undergoing cleaning and conservation by paintings conservator Dean Yoder. A think layer of varnish was laid over the work to isolate the "original" paint from the conservation work, and further paints that fluoresce under ultraviolet light are used for the necessary in painting to make the work done immediately apparent to future scholars and conservators.

Demonstrating the UV Light,
highlighting in painting

The careful treatment of works does not stop there, but also careful consideration of cultural traditions. For example, Mr. Knutas related that in considering critical preservation work on a document with religious significance where the culture forbids disturbing living things. To respect that culture, no animal glues can be used -- no brushes with animal hair can be used. The suggestions that it would be proper not to wear leather belts or shoes while working on the piece and that the conservators involved not eat meat the day before are being considered. I knew conservation was a hyper-detail oriented craft, but I had never considered how cultural concerns could so dramatically affect the execution of conservation -- and the lengths the Cleveland Museum of Art is willing to go to respect those traditions.

 Further, in that regard, the Asian Paintings Lab, staffed by conservator Sara Ribbans, is one of only four in United States museums. Ms. Ribbans was trained in the Japanese tradition, and carries that on in Cleveland. The lab has a distinctly different feel than the other labs we visited, including low tables and Tatami mats -- the tools used, likewise, are the same those that have been used by Japanese artisans for centuries.

Rachel pondering frames

As the tour concluded and we made our way back to the classroom where the talk began, we once again passed through a long hallway lined, floor to ceiling, with empty frames. No, this isn't the secret frame shop in the museum, instead, it's storage for the frames that belong to pieces undergoing conservation. A sort of waiting room in the art hospital, if you will, where frames patiently wait to be reunited with their loved ones.

In any event it's quite an unexpectedly dramatic scene.

Oh, and another tidbit: There are more than 45,000 objects in the Cleveland Museum of Art's collection. Less than 2% are on view at any one time.

For more information about Column and Stripe, or to join, visit http://www.columnandstripe.org/

Lincoln

Cleveland Orchestra: Beethoven's Emperor Concerto

Beethoven: Piano Concerto No. 5 ("Emperor") in E-flat major, Op. 73 (Helene Grimaud, piano)
Mahler: Symphony No. 4 in G major (Maureen McKay, soprano)
Fabio Luisi, conductor.

Ok, so Summer is over and it's time to return to Severance Hall for another season -- in many ways it's like the first day of a new school year, greeting old friends and helping new fans to find their way around. It's also a time to notice changes -- rumors of veteran House Manager Judith Diehl's impending retirement, and the addition of some rather unsightly security cameras flanking the stage, like pimples on an otherwise flawless face.

I will admit, though, that I wasn't as excited as I could have been heading into the hall this evening; I've gotten slightly accustomed to having a Saturday evening free, and my bank account has certainly appreciated having a few weeks free from ticket purchases. From the first notes, though, the orchestra under maestro Luisi reminded me why I attend Cleveland Orchestra concerts.

The first movement of the Beethoven concerto hooked me with tantalizing finger work on Ms. Grimaud's piano backed by equally tantalizing playing by the orchestra with phenomenal crispness clarity and balance. Though not evocative of a particular visual scene it was memorizing and at times almost operatic. The second movement (which lead virtually seamlessly into the third movement) was heartwarmingly tender -- to the point that a gentleman in an adjacent box bay have been on the verge of tears.

Following intermission the program concluded with Mahler's fourth symphony in four movements. Those four movements seemed to be almost wholly unrelated, making each movement it's own interesting little bundle. Like the Beethoven, this piece didn't evoke strongly imagery, but each movement evoked clear feelings -- from the first movement and its warm winter feeling suggesting sleighs and carols, to the second movement's more cinematic, imaginary and fanciful air. The third movement was serene and tranquil, at a moment sounding as if the entire orchestra -- as an organism was breathing and gasping for air. The fourth movement was the only movement of the evening that left me less that captivated.

Lincoln

BlueWater Chamber Orchestra: From Cleveland For Cleveland

Rossini: Overture to La Scala Di Seta (Silken Ladder)*
Haydn: Symphony No. 104 in D, "London"^
Barber: Concerto for Violin and Orchestra, Op. 14* (Diana Cohen, violin)
*-Carlton R. Woods, conductor. ^-Neil Mueller, conductor
At the Breen Center for the Performing Arts, St. Ignatius High School.

This week has been particularly long and stressful--Rachel and my attempt at dog adoption was not the success that we had hoped for, and I was somewhat relishing the thought of a quiet weekend before driving back to Michigan tomorrow -- for the fourth time in two weeks.

Late in the week were invited to attend this evening's concert -- and as fans of Ms. Cohen and intrigued by both BlueWater and the Breen Center -- both new to us, we couldn't say no.

For the venue, the Breen Center is comfortable and intimate without being cramped -- the auditorium is not huge but there is plenty of room. Acoustically, it seems to be very nice.

As a Chamber Orchestra, BlueWater is likewise a bit more compact than a traditional orchestra but produced a robust beautifully cohesive sound that filled the room and preserved nuances.

Rossini's Overture set the tone for the evening as  restrained, crisp and balanced with an emphasis on strings but very well blended.

While named  "London", neither Rachel nor could say that any particular imagery or sense of place was evoked Haydn's Symphony No. 104. Thus, while the first three movements were enjoyable, without evoking particular imagery it's difficult to me to connect the music, and instead I found it a very relaxing background to my thoughts on the past week. The fourth movement (Finale: Spiritoso) featured a fun set of notes starting in the first violins and expanding to encompass the entire orchestra that just made the movement kind of catchy.

The third piece on the program, Barber's Concerto for Violin and Orchestra  was clearly the highlight of the program. The first two movements were a bit of lyrical beauty and Ms. Cohen and the orchestra were in total sync but I didn't really get the impression that either was particularly challenged until the third movement -- aptly titled presto in moto perpetuo -- a flurry of well-controlled notes at blazing speed.

Lincoln

Cleveland Orchestra: Beethoven and Schubert

Beethoven: Coriolan Overture, Op. 62
Beethoven: Piano Concerto No. 1 in C major, Op. 15 (Martin Helmchen, piano)
Schubert: Symphony in C major ("The Great"), D.944
David Afkham, conductor

Where has this summer gone? While next weekend officially marks the end of the Blossom season (with Pixar in Concert), this weekend was the last classical concert -- as well as my last concert -- of the season. (While I am actually very intrigued by the Pixar program Rachel and I are heading up to Michigan to walk the Mackinac Bridge and possibly adopt a dog for Labor Day).

On one hand I'm sad to see the season end as it means cooler weather is soon to be on its way, on the other hand I am eager to return to Severance and will not miss the hour-long drive to and from Blossom (usually behind someone attempting to merge onto Route 8 [speed limit: 65] at 16 miles per hour).

Tonight's concert was particularly social including a pre-concert discussion with an orchestra staffer that was most enlightening, and at Intermission I was visited by an Engineering Professor who I've chatted with a couple times at Severance. What's a bit more remarkable is that he and his wife are such fans of the Cleveland Orchestra that they make the three-hour drive from their home in Ann Arbor several times each season to hear the Orchestra live.

Technically all three pieces on the program were great, musically none of the three pieces really compelled me to listen, instead I found my thoughts wandering -- largely to questions of dog logistics.

The ten-minute Coriolan Overture seemed much tamer and more subdued than the average overture but had a beautiful cello ending. The three movements of Beethoven's Piano Concerto No. 1 started with a pastoral gentile walk through autumn before a gentile and very tender hymn-like second movement and ending with what was to be my favorite movement from the evening centered around an energetic and very fun main theme.

Schubert's Symphony ("The Great") contrasted the somewhat relaxed "walk" of the first-movement Beethoven with a more austere and contemplative then turning impassioned and determined first movement. The adante con moto second movement was more unsettled and stormy and wandering off course. The third movement with a waltz encapsulated within and would prove to be my favorite from the piece. And by the fourth movement I was simply tired and ready to make a speedy exit from the pavilion to beat the throngs of concert goers to my car.

Lincoln

Cleveland Orchestra: Joffery Ballet: The Rite of Spring

Gould: Interplay (choreographed by Jerome Robbins)
Adams: Son of Chamber Symphony (choreographed by Stanton Welch)
Khachaturian: Adagio (choreographed by Yuri Possikhov)
Stravinsky: The Rite of Spring (Choreography after Vaslav Nijinsky, reconstructed by Millicent Hudson)
Joella Jones, piano.
Tito Munoz, conductor.

Once again a beautiful late summer evening greater patrons arriving at Blossom Music Center -- and its hard to believe summer is almost over, and there is only one more "true" cancer weekend left at Blossom. (There is a labor day double header of music from Pixar films that sounds interesting, but at this point it seems Rachel and I will be in St. Ignace, Michigan to participate in the Mackinac Bridge walk). Anyway, returning to this evening, I had found my way toy seat early and was settled in -- head down in reading about the advantages of clipless bike pedals -- when about 10 minutes until 8 the dam bust open and a surge of patrons filled the pavilion.

Opening the evening was Interplay, a four movement piece that the program notes claim has no storyline, however, I got the feeling of innocence and playground fun (the movement titles seem to support this) the third movement was slow and sad almost a loss of innocence before turning a slow jazzy (with a thin hint of "making whoopee" wisping up from the orchestra if I'm not reading too much into it) before turning spritely and happy and fast for the fourth movement.

I can have mixed feelings with John Adams work, and Son of a Chamber Symphony would be no exception of the music were to stand alone. Likewise, the dance without music would have fallen into that same void, but the combination of the two (and possibly the number of classical tutus--have I mentioned I'm a sucker for the look of a classical tutu) was beautiful allowing me to switch from eye to ear at whim as my attention span with either was taxed.

The last piece before intermission was the beautiful nine-minute duet Adagio which was, true to its name, a slow piece filled with romance and dance where both seemed to flow effortlessly.

The sole piece after intermission was Stavinsky's The Rite of Spring -- a piece celebrating its centennial this year. The piece has intrigued me since I first heard it performed at the Cleveland Institute of Music (CIM) a few years ago and when I heard about it's turbulent history (causing a "near riot" in the audience upon its premiere for it's -- at the time -- avant garde music and choreography). I've heard the piece performed several times since, but I've never seen it danced. While musically it was a bit less sharply percussive than I've come to expect, it was a beautiful performance and I will say my heart seemed to beat a bit faster and I had to imagine being in the theatre a hundred years ago -- seeing something "new" and unlike the three pieces proceeding it on the program.

Lincoln

Cleveland Orchestra: Vivaldi's Four Seasons

Rossini: Overture to La gizzar larda [The Thieving Magpie]
Vivaldi: The Four Seasons violin concertos Op. 8 No. 1-4 (Ray Chen, violin)
Mendelssohn: Symphony No. 3 ("Scottish") in A minor, Op. 56
Jahja Ling, conductor.

It was a positively beautiful evening at Blossom. Before the cancer began it was possible to survey the lawn where picnicking families clearly dominated, and a sea of people managed to marks the majority of the green lawn. As the music started, the sea of pavilion latecomers Behring held back by the ushers was likewise impressively immense.
The appetizer for tonight's concert was Rossini's 10-minute overture to La gazza ladra which mixed a military march and a dance -- the piece was enjoyable and reminded me of something but I couldn't -- and can't -- put my finger on what that was.

The main course, if you will, was Vivaldi's Four Seasons...and it was, if you'll pardon the metaphor delectable. While the electric quartet interpretation by the group Bond is a staple on my iPod, I don't think I've ever heard the complete piece played live.

The program notes include a short poem or, perhaps better stated as a  visualization for each of the three movements for each season. Though translations were in English, the program indicates the original Italian was inserted into the score by Vivaldi himself. The execution by both The Cleveland Orchestra and soloist brought those words to life for example the first line in Spring -- my favorite season from the piece -- "...and joyously the birds now welcome her return..." was brought to fluttering, chirping life by Mr. Chen.

The final piece of the program, Mendelssohn's Symphony No. 3 was the closest I've ever come to turning around and flat out telling a patron to shut up and let the people around him enjoy the piece (glaring was ineffective). Indeed, those in the area of the 400 boxes may have thought they were tuned into a baseball style  play-by-play broadcast. While he was obviously very taken by the music -- I'd be tempted to make comparisons to certain, *ahem* adult activities if this weren't a family blog -- it did not help the enjoyment of those around him.

While the first and fourth movements were the most substantial, I found the greatest satisfaction in the second and third movements. The second movement had a distinctly 20th century flavor (despite the piece having been composed in 1829) and what I would describe as hints of a Western film score. The third movement, on the other hand had the sense of tiptoeing through a garden very delicately and with an elegant flair.

Lincoln