Author: Zach Carstensen

The last leg of the Spectrum Dance Theater’s four-state US tour took us to Ogden, Utah. Located about 45 minutes north of Salt Lake City and surrounded by mountains, Ogden is only 25 minutes away from a ski resort. I was wishing that I had the time and gear to hit the slopes.

We performed for a full house at Weber State University. This was an excellent way to conclude the tour and the audience was enthusiastic, especially during the question/answer forum afterward. Some audience members were interested in the performance’s interpretation of Irwin Schulhoff’s music with regard to the Holocaust, since the pieces we performed were mainly written in the 1920s. Others struggled with how to walk away from the performance with hope in light of such dark subject matter.  One woman remarked that she “felt like a ragdoll” afterward. Audience members often ask Donald Byrd, the artistic director and choreographer of Spectrum, what a particular element of the piece means or symbolizes. He never answers, but instead responds, “What do you think it means?”

I performed during the first half of the show and had the opportunity to watch the second half from the back of the hall. Once again, I was struck by Donald Byrd’s expressive choreography and the dancers’ athleticism. Judith Cohen (piano) played throughout this difficult program with stamina and virtuosity. Rajan Krishnaswami (cello) was a fantastic collaborator in Schulhoff’s Duo and played a haunting rendition of the slow movement of Schulhoff’s Cello Sonata to end the program.

Both the musicians and dancers seemed pleased with their final performance. Although Ogden was a beautiful town, we were all relieved to return to Seattle and find snow on the ground. It was a pleasure to be a part of this important work, and to bring the music of Schulhoff to a wider audience.

Chalk it up to today’s youth being avid readers of the fantasy/reality mix: Harry Potter, the Twilight series, Artemis Fowl. (A generation ago the rage was Judy Blume, at least for the girls, and the trials of being a teen in today’s world.)

So the way-out phantasmagorical work that is Berlioz’ “Symphonie Fantastique” is music today’s kids have no trouble getting inside. Whether it was their understanding, the skill of the orchestra’s music director Stephen Rogers Radcliffe, or their astonishing technical ability, the SeattleYouth Symphony musicians gave a performance at Benaroya Hall Sunday which sent chills and thrills down the backs of at least one listener.

This is not easy music to play. From the long lines of the beginning theme, which sang light and beautiful with pauses which felt like breath and helped shape it, to the skittering sound of the witches in the last movement combined with the exuberant headlong rush of their dance, the performance absorbed the hearer. Clear, well phrased solos particularly from clarinet and english horn, excellent synchronization-it’s always a treat to hear an entire section playing as one instrument-and the sheer aliveness of their playing made this performance a memorable treat.

Difficult as is the Berlioz, what had come before was equally so. Radcliffe has the confidence to stretch his young musicians with works any orchestra would find a challenge and expect them to come up with the goods, which they did. Gershwin’s “Cuban Overture” swung with foot-tapping forward motion, and no player seemed fazed by the intricate cross rhythms which abound. I checked in frequently to hear the claves (wooden sticks) or wood box player, who had to be counting with fierce concentration the off-rhythms he was playing spot on, but kudos must go as well to the entire percussion section. At the end, there was a long pause of total silence in the audience, which included many young children.

In between the Gershwin and Berlioz came Britten’s “Sinfonia da Requiem,” which began with a startling bash on the bass drum. As befits a requiem the emotions were quite different, but the high quality remained, again with the percussion section doing excellent work. That’s not to short change the rest of the 122 players for whom there was barely room on stage, and it was notable that there were some very young musicians in responsible positions. String tone shone, energy and a fine sense of togetherness marked the playing. I’ve never heard theYouth Symphony sound better, and I look forward to their next concert.

“Pierced to the Heart” was the title of Choral Arts’ concert Friday night. It was described as celebrating the relationships of parents to their children, but it was hardly a happy reflection.

Of the works performed at St. Stephen’s Church in Laurelhurst, from the 15^th century to today, three dealt with a parent devastated by the death or impending death of a child, one with the death of a parent, one with a child’s feeling of abandonment, and one with a living relationship between parent and child which, from the music, I felt could be construed as a happy game, but the notes consider could be viewed as abusive.

Robert Bode, the group‘s artistic director says in the notes that it’s dire relationships which have produced compelling music, and perhaps that’s true. Just as stories in the press always lean to the worst, happy familial relationships just aren’t news- or music-worthy.

It would have been a pleasant antidote, though, to have in this program something like Brahms’ Lullaby.

Bode certainly chose some great music. There was a wonderful arrangement of the spiritual “Motherless Child” by Craig Hella Johnson, with a well-sung solo by Emily Herivel.

Dozens of composers have set the 13th century words of the “Stabat mater dolorosa,” with Josquin des Prez’s version picked for this program. It’s music which Choral Arts sings superbly well. The group’s pitch sense is masterly, making for true harmonies into which the listener can sink with pleasure, diction was clear and words heard easily. Although the words are anguished, they are those of a spectator, and the tone of the music is one of serene mourning which the choir captured.

If I had lost a child, I don’t think I would have found Eric Whitacre’s “When David Heard” (an outpouring of grief for the death of his son Absalom) any comfort, though the composer says it was intended for a bereaved father, a friend of his, hoping to give him a measure of peace and meaning.

The music was often crashingly dissonant, the sense discordant, the feeling uneasy. Anguish was here, but no resolution, despite some soft unison repetitions of the words ‘my son.” Musically it went on too long becoming increasingly rambling and disjointed. Yes, a bereaved person may feel just like this portrayal, and grief like this can feel as though it will never go away, but it doesn’t make for a continually interesting piece of music. The work could have done with some strong editing, as there is much good material in it.

The third work dealing with death of a child also had its problems, not in the music but in its execution. Carissimi’s “Jepthe” is an oratorio. When it was written in 17^th century Italy, opera was new, and while much loved already for its tale telling and theatrical staging, the Church wasn’t about to have it performed during Lent. Enter the oratorio, which, essentially is opera without the staging. All the drama and emotion must come through the voices or the instruments (for this, Choral Arts used harpsichod, organ and cello).

“Jepthe,” the Biblical story of the victorious general who has promised to sacrifice to God the first living thing greeting him on his return home, only to be met by his only daughter, is a moral tale of obedience, his to God, hers to him, but it has plenty of drama in his horror, her distress.

It’s all there in the music, but Choral Arts did not do it justice. Only the Jepthe, tenor Stephen Rumph, had the requisite dramatic ability and nuance in his voice. The daughter, soprano Sarah Markovits, had the very high notes but inadequate drama, and nor did the chorus provide much. The whole was thus uneven without enough forward motion.

Two works very different form each other, Vaughan Williams’ setting of “Full Fathom Five” from Shakespeare’s “The Tempest,” and John David Earnest’s setting of Theodore Roethke’s “My Papa’s Waltz,” completed the program and both were sung superbly well, with the sense of underwater undulations of current in the first, and the portrayals of rollicking fun combined with dizzy swoops in the other. Earnest was present for this work the choir commissoned from him (with Whitmas College), and appeared well pleased with the performance.

Choral Arts is always worth hearing. The Seattle area has a few choirs as good as any in the country, and Choral Arts is one of them.

This weekend is full of concerts.  Tomorrow, Seattle Pro Musica sings a concert at St. James Cathedral featuring pieces for double choir.  Herbert Howell’s Requiem,  Holst’s Ave Maria, and Stanford’s Magnificat are all on the program.  Throw in an excellent venue in St. James, and this is a must hear concert. 

Tasmin Little plays a solo recital based on her recording and online project – The Naked Violin – on Sunday.  While Tasmin Little is upstairs in the Nordstrom Recital Hall, downstairs, the Seattle Youth Symphony will be playing Berlioz’s Symphonie Fantastique and Benjamin Britten’s Sinfonia da Requiem.  An impressive program for the teenage musicians.  The Seattle Philharmonic also play on Sunday.  Music from Peaslee, Levant, and Copland’s Billy the Kid are on the program.  Dusting off forgotten pieces of music is one of Adam Stern’s calling cards.  This concert is proof of that.

Next Friday, Joshua Roman comes back to town for what I think is the Seattle premiere of John Tavener’s Protecting Veil.  Tavener’s piece is paired with Shostakovich’s Op,110 String Symphony.  The concert is the next installment in the Northwest Sinfonietta’s survey of the 20th Century.  Orchestra Seattle is also back at it next Sunday with Beethoven’s 6th Symphony and Vaughn Williams’s Serenade.  Down south, in Portland, folks writing about classical music didn’t care for Carlos Kalmar’s decision to program the Serenade with Beethoven’s 9th Symphony.  Different city.  Different Beethoven symphony.  Same outrage?  Not from me.  I rather like the Serenade and actually think it pairs better with the 6th Symphony.

Kent Devereaux has been in Seattle only a few months, but it’s clear after a few minutes of talking with him he is consumed with growing Cornish College’s music department, a goal fueled by a desire to have Seattle approach music differently.  Devereaux took the job as the chair of the Music Department after having spent the last twenty years in Chicago and before that Cal Arts.  Devereaux is a Cornish alum himself, a fact that made the move to Seattle even more enticing.

Devereaux’s mission isn’t simply to improve the numbers of students enrolling in the college.  The number of music students has stayed flat while other disciplines have seen their numbers swell.  But, he also wants to diversify the student body.  Cornish’s past affiliations with chance and electronic music pioneer John Cage and Lou Harrison, has drawn composition plenty of composition students, but not enough instrumentalists.

He also plans on spending more time doing the mundane one-on-one recruitment work needed to recruit the best students.  These goals are simple compared to his larger vision for Cornish’s music program and really, his vision for Seattle’s music scene.

Devereaux believes Cornish must become part of Seattle’s cultural fabric.  The college should be more accessible to the public.  Listening to Devereaux speak, his goal is to reengage the musical tapestry of Seattle, relying on the city’s long, trend setting history across genres to challenge the paradigms of what a traditional music school in Seattle can look like and even how we listen to music, seems too big for one man or even one regional arts college.

Too many times this writer has heard that the key to sparking interest in classical music is to repackage Mozart, Beethoven, and Brahms by dropping it into a bar or having the musicians dress down.  While this approach certainly does work for some, the exercise reminds me of the scene in Tommy Boy where Chris Farley explains why a rival auto parts manufacturer puts a guarantee on the box –“Guy puts a fancy guarantee on a box ’cause he wants you to fell all warm and toasty inside.”

Devereaux thinks something different is needed.  Growing up in the Bay Area, he was fortunate to live a few doors away from Lou Harrison.  For a seventeen year old who wanted to be a composer this proximity was almost too good to be true.  Devereaux would hang out with Harrison, visit with Virgil Thomson when he was in town, and commiserate with Aaron Copland.  Later, he partied with John Adams and the minimalists who came of age in the area during the late 70’s.

Growing up around these modern masters, Devereaux hears the influence of Stravinsky, Adams, and John Cage in the music coming from the most promising bands making music these days.  Isn’t this always how it’s been?  Previous ideas influencing the next?  Of course.  But Devereaux has noticed students and the public don’t entirely understand how the past connects with the present.

Devereaux’s remedy is simple: use the best music from today and deconstruct it, reverse engineer the sounds, and in the process make the case for classical music.  Devereaux’s tastes are broad, and I certainly got the impression he is better equipped than most to make this work.  TV on the Radio’s Dear Science has equal billing with Anthony Davis’s Amistad.

Devereaux knows he has his work cut out for him.  This ambitious vision depends on a number of factors, not least of which is willingness of students to wade into music when post-classical composers and bands are shredding serious music stereotypes and genres.  Maybe Devereaux’s plan for Seattle is too big.  As we sat drinking coffee at Victrola, he told me a story about his son.  Devereaux couldn’t seem to get him interested in classical music.  Until Devereaux found an in – his son liked John Cage.  Before too long, Devereaux had talked his son from John Cage to Igor Stravinsky, and convinced him to come with Devereaux to a live performance of the Rite of Spring.  If Devereaux can succeed with his son, winning over Seattle’s music lovers should be easy.

William Kentridge: artist, sculptor, animated film maker, stage director, visionary artist marrying one form to another, eschewing boundaries. Stephen Stubbs: lutenist, teacher, performer, concert and opera director particularly of the Baroque, founder and director of Pacific Operaworks. Handspring Puppet Company of South Africa: sculptors of puppets, inventors, stagers and performers of shows for children and adults. And Monteverdi: towering 17^th century Italian composer, creator of opera as we know it.

Put the first three together with all their multiple creative skills and you have next week’s revival of Monteverdi’s 1641 opera “The Return of Ulysses” in Kentridge’s original staging from 1998, presented by Pacific Operaworks.

In it, Kentridge has taken the opera’s prologue, an argument over Ulysses’ future between Human Frailty, Time, Fortune and Love, to highlight the underlying theme of the opera: the human vulnerability and heroism which pervade Ulysses’ vacillating hopes about whether he’ll ever get home to his wife, Penelope, and what he will find when he gets there after 20 years away.

Close your eyes, and you will hear a straightforward, period-perfect, well-sung performance of Monteverdi’s opera. Open them, and all sorts of nuance and ideas flit before your eyes, literally, as Kentridge’s animated charcoal drawings, Xrays conjuring up the internal human, photos from space, and more come up on a video screen behind the stage.

At front of stage is a hospital gurney with a huddled figure on it. While the figure, breathes and occasionally moves, it doesn’t speak, it’s just there throughout the opera,. The figure is Ulysses in extreme old age, dying in modern Johannesburg, and the opera is the memories of his long journey home.

The figure is a puppet.

Sculptor Adrian Kohler of Handspring carved these lifesize puppets from wood, hollowed out to be very thin so that the puppeteers can hold the weight up for the length of the opera (which has been slightly shortened to enable this). Asked how he chooses what sort of face, Kohler says he always has his eye out for photos of interesting faces which he can use. In “Ulysses,” he says, the head of the shepherd is modeled on the composer Stravinsky, sticking-out ears and all. The models for Penelope and Ulysses come, appropriately, from ancient Greece and the dying Ulysses is an aged version.

However, Penelope’s three suitors are 17^th century gallants, as Kentridge has set the opera in three eras and places: today’s Johannesburg, Monteverdi’s 17^th century Italy, and Homer’s Greece.

Puppeteer Brian Jones, together with Kohler a founder in 1981 of Handspring Puppet Company, describes how tiny details make puppets come alive.

“With puppets, you have macro movement, ‘he says,” that’s the stage direction. Micro movement is, for instance, the way we pick up a glass, or bend forward to get up off a chair.” The puppets mimic those movements exactly.”It’s based on breath, and the result becomes a transcendant experience rather than everyday. The puppets strive for life, in small movements.” Five puppeteers of the company have come for this production.

Watching a “Ulysses” rehearsal, where each puppet is manipulated by two people, the puppeteer and the singer, the three merge into one as we watch it. The singer has to remember not to upstage the puppet while singing and manipulates one of the puppet’s arms; the puppeteer holds the puppet up taller than he or she is, and manipulates the other arm, the head and anything else.

For this production, the eight singers are people with whom Stubbs has worked. Many will remember tenor Ross Hauck who sings Ulysses and Human Frailty, and took over the role of Nero in the Early Music Guild’s terrific production of “The Coronation of Poppea” a couple of years ago. Baritone Jason McStoots as Giove and a suitor, and mezzo-soprano Sarah Mattox as Melanto and Fortuna also performed in”Poppea.” Soprano Cyndia Sieden graces both early and modern opera these days, and here sings Amore and Minerva. Laura Pudwell’s rich mezzo-soprano makes a strong Penelope in the short exerpt heard in this rehearsal.

Stubbs himself on chitarrone (great bass lute) heads the group of eight instrumentalists, again many known to Seattle’s early music devotees, such as Ingrid Matthews and Tekla Cunningham, violins, Margriet Tindemans, viola da gamba, and Maxine Eilander, harp.

The five performances take place at the Moore Theater at 7.30 p.m., beginning March 11. Tickets are $40-85 at 206-292-ARTS or www.ticketmaster.com