I went to Perth today. Perth Scotland.

I was going to learn about Capital Gains Tax at the feet of Professor Alex McDougall – an excellent speaker who just gives it to you straight. There’s no other way to take tax – unlike whisky, it is not mollified by a drop of water. As I headed into the world of the tax collectors, I switched from Radio 4 to Radio 3, increasing audience numbers  by 50% I guess. I didn’t really want to listen to last night’s episode of The Archers (again, I hasten to add) and the afternoon play didn’t sound sufficiently intriguing to make that my material for the remainder of my journey.

Within minutes I was transported back to 1803, recognising almost instantly Beethoven’s 3rd Piano Concerto, which I had heard at the SCO not two weeks ago.

It seemed right for the landscape. Looking beyond the cone universe called the A80 – how many thousands are there? who makes them and how much are the shares? – I could see the gently rolling end of the Campsie Fells as the Mavis Valley came to an end and headed towards Falkirk. Beethoven was right for the moment.

And there they were tall, ungainly tax collectors standing like two eyed triffids, camouflaged in bright yellow so as to blend with the scenery, so that they might not be seen. A job they do better at night I must say when you just can’t see them at all.

They represent all that is good about Britain, stealth tax in action. They are watching you all the time so that you must watch your speedometer instead of focussing on the road: at the cone hazards, the constantly changing lane layouts like the staircases at Hogwarts; the huge trucks waiting to pounce from their works exits into the main carriageway at 2 miles an hour.

Having left the hive of activity that will keep many people employed for years to come, I headed into beautiful Perthshire. And it was today. The sun brightened the russet leaves and in between the clouds there was a wisp of a rainbow – typical, forgot my camera again –  as I passed places and road-ends with mystical sounding names like Findo Gask, Dunning and Bardrill.

The seminar was excellent and my Capital Gains Tax knowledge is now replenished and I am ready to take on the world.

Provided it is cone free…

JohnF

Alfred Brendel the pianist and Simon Rattle the conductor. That is one good friendship…. and you have to remember that in 2007 Brendel took a step forward and stood for his friend when criticism was getting too harsh.

Earlier this year, I had the pleasure to play seven concerts with Simon. I can only say that I have never heard any playing surpass that of the BPO in the three glorious performances of Mahler’s Fourth Symphony I was able to hear. In every section of the orchestra there was the same amazing quality, refinement and commitment. The same goes, in recent years, for performances by Simon of Schubert’s Great C-Major Symphony and Brahms’ Second, among others. Our partnership in Beethoven’s Fourth Concerto at the recent Salzburg Easter Festival was what most soloists can only dream of. The orchestra’s visit to New York this January, presenting four different programmes in a row, was a huge success, as well as a personal triumph for Simon. There, and at the Salzburg Easter Festival, I can testify for the rapture of the public and the complete dedication of the orchestra to its music director.

These two support each other and make a really good team. And the documentary about maestro Brendel proves it once again:

Here is a charming interview with Alfred Brendel about his recent retirement and poetry: http://entertainment.timesonline.co.uk/tol/arts_and_entertainment/music/classical/article6856909.ece

Brendel is a favorite of mine, although he was not in highschool. “Dry as toast” was one description I heard of his Beethoven sonatas and, when I was working on the “Tempest” sonata, No. 17 in D minor, I found him uninspiring. Now he’s one of the people I love listening to with the score on my lap. Brendel’s playing has an unusually high degree of articulacy, and this is an apt word because articulacy requires that one know exactly what it is that is being said. People who are sloppy readers can’t be articulate ones; and people who are slipshod in their interpretations are, whatever else they may be, inarticulate players (this is one reason Bach is so good for students; no muddiness!).

Hopefully I can get hold of some of Brendel’s poetry.

La Asocación de Arte de Japón anunció que el pianista Alfred Brendel fue elegido como uno de los 5 ganadores de la edición 2009 del Praemium Imperiale Awards, por su destacada contribución a las artes. Además del pianista recientemente retirado, fueron galardonados Sugimoto Hiroshi (pintura), Richard Long (escultura), Zaha Hadid (arquitectura) y Tom Stoppard (teatro).

Creado  en 1989, el reconocimiento se entrega cada año a destacados exponentes en 5 diferentes campos: pintura, escultura, arquitectura y teatro o cine. Bajo el patronazgo de la familia imperial de Japón, el premio otorga a cada ganador  15 millones de yenes, equivalentes a aproximadamente 158 mil dólares, lo que lo convierte en uno de los más codiciados en el mundo del arte.

En la categoría musical el premio ha sido entregado a importantes compositores, directores y ejecutantes como Zubin Metha, Luciano Berio, Györgi Ligeti, Steve Reich, Mstislav Rostropovich, Martha Argerich y Daniel Barenboim.

Redacción Clásica México

Para saber más de este reconocimiento visiten el sitio oficial del Premio Imperial

When I found that the packaging of the Rattle/Berlin Philharmonic CD set of Haydn’s Symphonies 88-92 included not one but three pictures of Rattle himself, it was one more reminder of the cult of the maestro.

Karajan was possibly the first conductor whose image dominated the covers of his records, although I believe the practice of printing the conductor’s name larger than that of the composer may have started with earlier stars of the podium.

What a shame the packaging of CDs so seldom features the orchestras that are performing, let alone the composers who created the work in the first place.

Hilary Hahn’s disc of Sibelius and Schoenberg concertos included seven photos of her. Sir Simon Rattle does not always appear on the covers of his new CDs, but there is an excessive practice of displaying photos of soloists and conductors.

Whilst I think the music is always more important than the conductor, and I would prefer abstract designs or landscapes to close-ups of artists, I have to accept that the companies have found that CDs sell more copies that way.

Sometimes it’s done in a way I can’t really object to, such as the pictures of Alfred and Adrian Brendel on their set of the Beethoven cello sonatas, where a large and rather endearing dog gradually appears.

Ich konnte Adrian Brendel neulich kennenlernen. Er hat mir von seinem Projekt mit Patti Smith erzählt. Ich gehe definitiv hin: 

Patti Smith & Adrian Brendel (cello)
words & music 1/2
15+16 dez 08 / 20 h
kontemplation, glaube und brüderlichkeit sind worte, die patti smith häufig verwendet und die ihr denken prägen. in „words & music” begibt sie sich – gemeinsam mit dem cellisten adrian brendel – auf eine spirituelle reise. bereits anfang der 1970er jahre begann patti smith, avantgardistische musikerin und lyrikerin im umfeld des punks, gedichte mit e-gitarrenmusik vorzutragen. heute verschmelzen in ihren performances sprach- und rockrhythmen, und ihre unerschöpfliche musikalische energie verbindet sich mit religiöser und politischer poetry. bei „words & music 2″ am 16 dez 08 lässt sich patti smith von der besonderen atmosphäre der allerheiligen-hofkirche inspirieren; mehrfach trat sie bereits mit songs und improvisationen in kirchen auf und begeisterte ihr publikum: „es gibt keine setlist, viel improvisation, zahlreiche gedichte, und vor allem: eine (…) künstlerin, deren präsenz einem den atem verschlägt.” (welt online)

15 dez 08 / mo 20 h
patti smith & adrian brendel (cello)
words & music 1
ort: hausderkunst west
20 euro

16 dez 08 / di 20 h
patti smith & adrian brendel (cello)
words & music 2
ort: allerheiligen-hofkirche, residenz
30 euro

kartenvorverkauf 
ab 17 nov 08
ort: kasse im haus der kunst

kartenreservierung
ab 17 nov 08
t +49 (0)89 21127-113
events@hausderkunst.de

Info via: Haus der Kunst

Det var länge sedan jag skrev här. Eller skrev överhuvudtaget faktiskt.

På den andra sidan har jag gått in ibland men inte haft någon konkret plan på vad jag skulle skriva. Men varje gång ser man i rollen till höger dessa ändlösa arga diskussioner som ger en knut i magen. Då har viljan att själv skriva något tynat bort.

I början av veckan stod ett tranpar på åkern här utanför och konverserade. De trumpetade med nästan konstant 10 sekunders mellanrum. Då trodde man att våren började komma igång ordentligt, men vintern hade ännu inte sagt det lilla den ville ha sagt detta år. Och så kom den på besök åter.

Fått nys om att en mycket duktig pianist vid namn Alfred Brendel ska sluta spela, han har spelat i ungefär 60 år och har gett en massa fina inspelningar till eftervärlden.

Det finns omkring 300 inspelade filer att lyssna till på den här sidan med Brendel. Jag gillar främst hans Schubertspelningar, men även Beethoven gör han bra.

≡

Hier soir j’ai relu quelques “Je me souviens….” de George Pérec.
Moi je me souviendrai … des doigts totalement recouverts de sparadrap d’Alfred Brendel… J’aurais passé les meilleurs moments de ma vie à écouter les deuxièmes mouvements des dernières sonates de Joseph Haydn (surtout les n°34, n°48, n°49, n°50 et n°52, n°20…) que j’avais mis bout à bout sur des CD pour pouvoir les écouter littéralement en boucle. Elles ont défilé dans ma tête pendant des années. Et encore aujourd’hui (où j’ai moi aussi des petits bouts de sparadrap partout dans le cerveau à cause d’alzheimer) je ne me lasse pas de les écouter (sur un iPod maintenant). Et parfois même, quand il y a du soleil le matin au Jardin du Luxembourg, je les confonds avec l’automne…

J’appartiens au monde d’avant la pomme

Alright, so I saw the Chicago Symphony Orchestra again on Saturday. I’m thinking it was the best show I’ve ever seen. And not just the best symphony I’ve ever been to, but the best show, shindig, event, period. And I’ve seen a lot of symphonies. I’m a pretty big fan of classical music although I don’t show it. I don’t just flip on my stereo and listen to Vivaldi or anything, like, ever, but I do play in an orchestra. So for about half my life I have been exposed at length to classical music, and not just from school, but from home as well. So even before I got to the Symphony Center I knew it was going to be a killer show. Usually they play some good stuff and some crap, but on this night it was different. No modern bullshit, all crowd-pleasers. Namely, Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven. So I was already expecting this to be great, because I really trust the CSO and these pieces were all fantastic. Going to the symphony can be a bit of a task sometimes but I really do love it. It’s the Opera that annoys me. I can’t deal with all the singing, but the symphony is more my niche and I can have fun just sitting and listening. I used to fall asleep a bit until I really got interested in classical music and started to realize that if a symphony can really actually put you to sleep, it’s doing pretty damn well. Like, if you are hypnotized enough by the music to be able to fall asleep in front of the CSO, that’s impressive. At any rate, tonight was going to be especially good because we had great seats, about the fifth row. We usually sit in the back balcony above the orchestra, but I hate that spot. Acoustically it’s probably better but I always feel like I’m going to fall off or something. I’m just that paranoid of a person I guess. So these seats were very good. I had to be respectful and lean back a little though, because I’m a tall guy and I was probably blocking someones view already.

We sat next to some nice people, essentially symphony groupies if that’s even possible. The kind of people who travel and see orchestras like the CSO, as a hobby. no big tall fat people in front of me, so I had no problems seeing. The first piece, Haydn’s 93rd, was really really good. Unfortunately it was overshadowed by those that followed it, but Haydn can hardly ever be considered an opening act. I was already having a fruitful musical weekend. I saw a friends band concert on Thursday and it kicked some serious ass, and I think I’ve now started to get interested in the whole band music culture, if one exists. The music was just so great. For my Orchestra class I need two outside class concert credits, and I was getting them both knocked off in one weekend; couldn’t be happier to know that I had no obligations after this concert. But Haydn is always great, and this particular piece was very delicate and enjoyable. There was a great little quartet part in the middle of it, and one of the funniest orchestral puns I’ve ever heard. You guys are going to read this and laugh at me because it’s not really that funny, but being an orchestra nerd, I chuckled. There is a part in the middle where only three or so violins are playing at all and they are all playing very quiet notes, in very slow intervals. And then there is a long pause, and a bassoon just blasts out the most obnoxious note ever from the back. It was awesome. And once again, our seats were awesome. We must have been, like, ten feet away from first violin Robert Chen, who is already quite a show to watch. He is one of the best violin players I’ve ever seen live, and he puts so much energy into his playing. It almost looks like he’s relaxed though, it’s hard to describe.

Anyway, the Haydn was pretty short for a symphony, about twenty minutes. But it ended and everyone clapped and it was very good. But that was only the beginning. At this point, the rest of the orchestra reconfigures for the guest player and all the basses leave and many of the band instruments, etc. I guess I didn’t mention who the guest was. Alfred Brendel. For those of you who are not familiar with the man, he is essentially the greatest pianist alive. Or at least he might as well be. He could play fucking Yankee Doodle and I’d be floored, honestly. So the orchestra was rearranged and a big beautiful piano was brought onstage, and then Alfred comes out. He’s in his late seventies, an old bird of an Austrian fellow, and he is kind of twitchy and his age shows. That’s not to say he doesn’t look like a very nice dude, but he’s kind of getting up in his days. When he plays sometimes he makes random little groans and twitches, but it doesn’t interfere with his playing and he is probably still in his prime. They played Mozart’s Piano Concerto 17, which is the one that Mozart famously taught the first five bars of to his pet bird. Mozart is one of those composers that everyone knows for a reason; he is reliable, and I don’t think I’ve ever heard a piece of his that I didn’t like. But Mozart is about the greatest you can possibly hear, and there are only two or three composers that compare in my book. I’ll get to that later.

I felt like this was the best piece I’ve ever had the pleasure of hearing the CSO do. Alfred sat there next to the piano while the rest of the orchestra started, waiting for his time, with this warm smile on his face, and to hear him start into his piano solos from complete silence when the rest of the orchestra has stopped, that’s to find God in music. There is no question. The piece was only a little over thirty minutes and by the halfway point I already knew it was one of the coolest things I have ever heard. I just have a hard time believing how anyone can play the piano…it impresses the shit out of me. The theory has to be buried into your brain, because on Piano there it’s really black and white, like fretted instruments. On a violin you can search for the right note, but on the piano, if you fuck up, you fuck up. And at that, both of your hands are operating, and Alfred Brendel does it on such a spectacular level. The emotion that he puts into even the simplest fills baffles me. And yet he puts the same emotion into huge intricate solos, and he does it flawlessly. Sometimes with his eyes closed, his elderly jowls going wild. It was a thirty minute piece that felt like ten, it was just TOO good. He got four ovations, three standing.

Somewhere in the middle of the piece, though, a woman on the back balcony caught my eye. She was either drunk, stoned, or not completely there in the head, but I still think she might have been one of the free-est souls I’ve ever seen. She was literally doing a sitting hippie dance during Alfred Brendels piece. That made me realize…this shit is pretty rockin.

During intermission, people usually walk around to exercise their legs, go to the bathroom, pick up a ridiculously expensive chocolate bar or glass of wine at the concessions, etc. But I was too floored to really stand up right then. It was obvious to me that this was one of the most impressive things to ever grace my ears. I can only think of one or two performances that have come close, and then actual recorded music which is quite different and more up for grabs. When it comes to recorded music, lots of songs strike me as just brilliant every time I hear them. Off the top of my head, Song To The Siren covered by Cocteau Twins, Fleeting Smile by Roger Eno, and Samba Pa ‘Ti by Santana. I also saw Yo Yo Ma and the Silk Road Ensemble a few years ago, and that was also just unbelievable. But this was totally a new breed of awesome. So you’d think I’d be disappointed in whatever the last piece had to offer. Because really, how can something measure up to this? It’s Alfred Brendel playing Mozart, that’s pretty hard to beat. Like I said, only a few composers compare to Mozart. Bach is one, Handel is another. I usually don’t think Beethoven when I think of favorite composers, but he is amazing enough in his composures that he should be making top composer lists for all fans of classical music.

To my disbelief, the Mozart was actually beaten out by something even more amazing, Beethoven’s 5th. Even if you don’t know shit about classical music, chances are you know that name. Beethoven’s 5th. Everyone has heard the opening bars. It’s just so a part of popular culture and music that it’s hard to escape. And it’s popular for a reason, most people consider it to be the greatest piece of music ever produced. It’s not just the opening part that is great… Every minute of the thirty minute long symphony is absolutely ingenious, and not one fumble is made in the whole course of the music. It’s the most amazing piece of classical music, bar none. It has load of energy and every time the piece explodes into beautiful sound within the last fifteen minutes, and it feels like about as many times, you just feel like this is the greatest thing you have ever listened to. And it’s being performed by the CSO no less, all operating as one huge wonderful unit. Everything here was absolutely perfect, the pizzicato stretch, the complex solos bouncing off of each of the sections… This shit is hardcore. If there is headbanging classical music, this is it. No question, this was even cooler than the Mozart. I’ve fucking seen the light.

Anyway, Saturday was easily the best night of music of my life, I’m still trying to get over it.