Ginastera: Variaciones concertantes Op. 23
Franck: Symphonic Variations for Piano and Orchestra M. 46
Liszt: Piano Concerto No. 2 in A major S.125
Hindemith: Symphonic Metamorphosis on Themes by Carl Maria von Weber
Anton Nel: piano
Austin Symphony Orchestra (ASO): Peter Bay, conductor

Michael and Susan Dell Hall
Long Center for the Performing Arts
Austin. Texas
Saturday, November 19, 2011

It is an indication of how far the Austin Symphony has come with Peter Bay in his fourteen seasons as music director and conductor, that the ASO could carry off a programme as demanding as this one; both the Ginastera and Hindemith works are veritable concertos for orchestra in the sense that they feature so many players in solo roles. Add another extraordinary artist in the person of pianist Anton Nel (photo: right) to play showy pieces by Franck and Liszt and you have an entire evening of virtuosity.

The Ginastera “Variaciones concertantes” is a chamber orchestra piece that manages to get some real excitement going in the final dance movement. Elsewhere, the composer shows a preference for soulful and melancholic variations, but that doesn’t mean they are easy to play – far from it. From the opening cello solo, played superbly by Douglas Harvey, there was never any question about the quality of this performance. Each of the featured soloists handled his or her challenge with authority. Special recognition must be given David Neubert who played the difficult double bass solo with remarkable accuracy and beauty of tone.

Hindemith’s set of variations on obscure pieces by Weber has been a crowd-pleaser since its premiere in 1944. The composer has a reputation for being turgid and academic at times in his music, but the “Symphonic Metamorphosis” is rich in orchestral colour and abounds with good humour. The fugue manages to be both an astonishing feat of contrapuntal mastery and great fun.

Speaking of mastery, Peter Bay was in complete control of this piece. Judging by the performance, all the difficult sections were thoroughly rehearsed. Balances and tempi were close to ideal. An excellent performance.

Anton Nel heads the Division of Keyboard Studies at the Butler School of Music at the University of Texas. He is also a busy performer with a vast repertoire, ostensibly able to play anything written for his instrument. On this occasion, he concentrated on two warhorses from the Nineteenth Century romantic repertoire and played them as if they posed no technical challenges whatever.

We all, however, have likes and dislikes and I must confess that the Franck and the Liszt are not among my favourite pieces. I find their themes trite and their variations uninteresting. Although I have heard them played with more intensity and individuality by others, I can hardly fault Anton Nel for his approach. He played beautifully and the audience loved his performance. He rewarded them with an encore – a noble reading of the Liszt transcription of Schumann’s song, “Widmung.”

For Something More…

Anton Nel is in charge of the Division of Keyboard Studies at the University of Texas; he is not, however, the only stellar performer on staff. Two nights earlier I heard Colette Valentine, one of Nel’s UT colleagues, play brilliantly with the Miró Quartet in music by Schubert (Trout Quintet) and Dvorák.

Paul E. Robinson is the author of “Herbert von Karajan: the Maestro as Superstar,” and ”Sir Georg Solti: His Life and Music.” For friends: The Art of the Conductor podcast, “Classical Airs.”

Photos: Peter Bay by Marita; Anton Nel by Patrick Wu.

Mozart: The Magic Flute
Austin Lyric Opera (ALO)
Director: James Marvel
Conductor: Richard Buckley
The Long Center
Austin, Texas
Saturday November 5, 2011

Congratulations are in order for the Austin Lyric Opera on the occasion of its 25th Anniversary. The organization also deserves enormous credit for dealing quickly and apparently effectively with a serious financial crisis that came to a boil last spring. Changes since then have included the resignation of General Director Kevin Patterson, the listing of ALO’s office building for sale, and major program cuts to the 2011-2012 season. Kevin Smith was appointed interim General Director and principal conductor Richard Buckley was given the additional title of Artistic Director.

Mozart’s “The Magic Flute“ was the first opera the ALO produced in its inaugural season in 1987. In a program note Kevin Smith declares that the theme of the 25th anniversary is “Let the Magic continue…;” unfortunately, there was little, if any magic in James Marvel’s production of “The Magic Flute.”

Let it be said at the outset that “The Magic Flute” is full of wonderful music, but the libretto is an unruly mishmash of comedy and spirituality. It is a huge challenge for any director to make sense of it all and put it together in a way that is both faithful to Mozart and intelligible for the audience. Come to think of it, there are any number of Shakespeare plays that pose a similar challenge.

I don’t know this for a fact, but I would guess that director James Marvel had another challenge too; that is, how to mount a production of one of Mozart’s greatest operas with a severely trimmed budget resulting from the ALO’s financial troubles. Marvel and artistic director Buckley probably had to engage cheaper and less experienced singers than they originally intended and had to make do with less elaborate sets and costumes. Be that as it may, I can really only go by what I saw and heard at the Long Center, and frankly, I was disappointed.

Mr. Marvel talks a good game. In his program notes, he goes on about the Masonic elements in the opera, and about how the main theme of the work is the “many faces” of love. But what he put on stage was a musical comedy version of the opera. He stressed the jokes and the sight gags and treated the serious elements as satire. Does he not listen to the music? In the choruses and elsewhere, one hears kinship with some of Mozart’s most profound works such as the “Masonic Funeral Music” and the “Requiem.” There is plenty of comedy in “The Magic Flute,” but it is only there to leaven the generally serious, indeed life and death matters which are the heart and soul of the opera. The opera is about love but it is also about the power of love, wisdom and music to overcome adversity and superstition. This is Enlightenment thinking in the form of art and it permeates nearly every scene in the opera.

Metaphors abound in “The Magic Flute.” The Queen of the Night represents the forces of darkness and she and her followers are in a life and death struggle with the forces of light represented by Sarastro and his priests, but Marvel and Lighting Designer David Nancarrow have chosen to bathe everyone in the brightest possible light from beginning to end. The costumes are invariably bright and perky and the sets are little more than a series of risers with sliding panels. Some projections are used to supply what is lacking on stage, but these are barely more than rudimentary. By using so many bright lights and costumes, Marvel eliminates the basic contrasts in the story of the opera – worse than that, he removes all mystery from the spiritual elements.

Speaking of removing things, why didn’t we have a serpent in the opening scene; a fuzzy projection doesn’t count! And what happened to the Two Men in Armor in Act Two? Their music was sung by two priests. No money available for the right costumes? And what are we to make of the way chorus members were allowed to file onstage in rows as if preparing for a concert, and leave the same way? Marvel seemed to have no idea how to move large groups, let alone give the individual singers any sense of character; they invariably lined up like zombies. Is Sarastro running a cult or what?

One of the most impressive productions of “The Magic Flute” I have seen was presented at the Savonlinna Festival in Finland (1986). August Everding was the director and Toni Businger did the costumes. In the castle courtyard where the performances are given, conventional sets are impossible, and yet the use of imaginative props and costumes – yes, including a wonderful serpent – and a great cast made this production a profoundly moving experience. It was the magnificent choir in this production that brought me to the realization that the spirit of Mozart’s “Requiem” lives in this music and that Beethoven was undoubtedly influenced by these choruses in “The Magic Flute” when he came to compose the Prisoners’ Chorus in “Fidelio.”

My point is that a successful production is not necessarily about lavish sets and huge budgets; it has more to do with simply understanding the opera and finding a way to capture its essence.

On the musical side, Richard Buckley must take some of the blame. None of the principal vocalists came close to producing the sound and phrasing required by Mozart, with the possible exception of Jamie-Rose Guarrine (photo above: right) in the smaller role of Papagena. Some of the singing, in my opinion, was simply unpleasant.

It is fashionable to take fast tempi in Mozart these days, but that doesn’t make them right. Consider Buckley’s tempo for the Allegro section of the Overture. This section is not marked ‘Allegro molto’ or ‘Presto’ and yet Buckley took off at top speed. His tempo choice not only ignores what Mozart wrote, but is at odds with the spirit of the opera. Buckley’s tempi were invariably faster than usual – compare Bruno Walter or Colin Davis – and were of a piece with Marvel’s musical comedy approach.

The Austin Lyric Opera has shown a flair for presenting familiar operas in new ways, as well as unfamiliar works which are both substantial and entertaining. But “The Magic Flute” was not a wise program choice, given a director with so little appreciation of the work and too few singers up to the musical challenges.

Tchaikovsky (orch. Glazunov): Méditation in D minor Op. 42 No. 1
Glazunov: Violin Concerto in A minor Op. 82
Messiaen: Turangalîla-Symphonie
Joshua Bell: violin
Angela Hewitt: piano
Jean Laurendeau: ondes martenot
Orchestre symphonique de Montréal (OSM): Kent Nagano, conductor

La Maison symphonique
Place des Arts
Montréal, Quebec
September 13, 2011

Ever since its premiere in 1949, audiences have been moved and thrilled by Olivier Messiaen’s massive “Turangalîla” Symphony. More than 60 years later, it remains an extraordinarily original and peculiar piece. Montreal has heard it before – Charles Dutoit championed the piece in 2000 at Place des Arts. Kent Nagano has a special relationship with the composer and his music, and conducted this latest performance with both love and authority. The OSM responded with spectacular playing.

La Maison symphonique, the new home for OSM and others, including OSM’s rival, the Orchestre Métropolitain (still led by Philadelphia-bound Yannick Nezet-Seguin) opened last week with OSM performances of the Beethoven Ninth. The following week the OSM gave us the Turangalîla Symphony, an apt choice to really test the hall’s ability to handle both great masses of sound and a vast range of instrumental colours.

With “Turangalîla,” La Maison symphonique emerged a winner as it easily handled the enormous volume throughout the work without distortion, and most instruments could be clearly heard in both soft and loud passages; however, from my seat in the back of the Balcony – the highest tier in the hall – the overall orchestral sound was overly bright. I was reminded of the hard-edged early digital recordings from the 1980s: plenty of clarity, but not much warmth. In spite of the wood on the walls and floors all around me and on the stage below, the sound reaching the top tier was more steely than woody. As with most halls, the sound likely varies – sometimes considerably – depending on seat location. We’ll see.

“Turangalîla,” with an approximate playing time of  80 minutes, is often the sole piece on a programme. Not so on this occasion. In the first half of the concert, we had violinist Joshua Bell playing music by Tchaikovsky and Glazunov. This meant not only that the evening’s programme was very long, but also that it was expensive; Bell, one of the few classical artists likely to sell out a concert these days, doesn’t come cheap, and “Turangalîla,” with an exceptionally large orchestra including 11 percussionists, not to mention two featured keyboard soloists, is costly to mount.

“Turangalîla” is an event in itself. With nearly all OSM concerts conducted by Nagano selling very well, and with listeners eager to hear the new hall, why did the OSM management combine Bell and “Turangalîla” in one concert? Either one on its own is very costly and the two together would be tough on any orchestra’s budget. At a time when orchestras everywhere are struggling to avoid deficits, this programming looks like utter foolishness. The irony is that the OSM almost certainly would have sold out Joshua Bell and “Turangalîla” in separate concerts; to combine them in one concert probably jacked up their costs inordinately, while raising hardly a dollar more in revenue.

“Turangalîla” is a made-up word from Sanscrit meaning “love song.” There are love songs in the symphony, but no explicit programme or story. What makes this piece symphonic is the recurrence and development of themes. Messiaen, in many of his works, was inspired by both bird song and Indian music. The themes in his pieces are often easily recognizable, occasionally approaching what some would call “smaltzy.”

“Turangalîla” is odd in its harmonies and rhythms and in its unusual sounds. It is also very difficult to play, even for a virtuoso orchestra. The OSM musicians were equal to everything the composer threw at them and played superbly. The piano part is very demanding but ultimately unrewarding for the soloist with everything else that is going on in the piece. Angela Hewitt was a surprising soloist given her reputation for Bach and Mozart, but she made a very strong impression. Québec ondes martenot specialist Jean  Laurendeau, positioned at the front of the orchestra, seemed in total command of this unusual instrument.

Joshua Bell, in great form, gave Tchaikovsky and Glazunov accurate and heartfelt performances. The OSM accompanied with sensitivity and panache. Associate principal horn Denys Derome contributed some beautiful solo playing.

It will likely take time for musicians and listeners alike to accustom themselves to La Maison symphonique. As I have said already, one concert experienced from one location in the hall does not provide enough information for firm conclusions about acoustical strengths and weaknesses. My impressions of the non-acoustical features of the hall, however, are another matter.

To begin with, anyone thinking of attending a concert La Maison symphonique should know that (as of September 13^th) the building and its environs are by no means finished. The outdoor surroundings are still walled off by wooden hoardings, and the lobby space is still under construction, especially at the top level. On the night I attended, the few existing escalators were not in service. Unfortunately, even putting the unfinished state of the building aside, the overall concept and layout of La Maison symphonique are, in my opinion, disappointing.

The new hall is part of Place des Arts and many patrons will enter through the dark, claustrophobic passages with low ceilings linking all the theatres. The main lobby of La Maison symphonique is so small and unimaginative that I was reminded of the worst of the Soviet era public buildings. To say the hall is uninviting would be an understatement. The audience enters through purely functional glass doors and almost immediately bumps up against a purely functional staircase. The message is ‘Get in or get out but don’t hang around here. Nothing to see here. Just keep moving.’ Emergency rooms in hospitals are designed with more aesthetic flair than this new arts facility.

There are only a single staircase and a few elevators leading to all floors. Getting 2,000 people in or out in a hurry is a problem. The beechwood lobby floors look nice, but after a few Montreal winters and a thousand cups of coffee spilled on them, will they still be attractive? The lobby space on each of the upper floors is tight and Spartan.

My general impression? Most of the money may or may not have been spent getting the acoustics right. We’ll see about that. Almost no money has been spent making the lobbies friendly and interesting, nor on moving people around the building quickly and safely. I see that the architectural design is credited to Jack Diamond. Was this really the best he could do?

Paul E. Robinson is the author of “Herbert von Karajan: the Maestro as Superstar,” and ”Sir Georg Solti: His Life and Music.” NEW for friends: The Art of the Conductor podcast, “Classical Airs.”

When the Knowlton Festival folded two years ago, the Orchestre symphonique de Montreal (OSM) and its chief conductor, Kent Nagano, needed to find an alternative venue for some of their summer music-making. An inspired choice was the Orford Festival. While last season’s appearances were uneven, this summer everything came together and the results were impressive.

Last summer at Orford, the OSM gave two full concerts under Nagano, who also worked with the Orford Academy Orchestra (OAO) on a third concert. The venue for all three performances was the Saint-Patrice Church in Magog. This year, the OSM gave only one full orchestra concert, which was presented at the University of Sherbrooke. Some OSM members were also involved in chamber music performances. The OAO concert under Nagano was presented at the Saint-Jean-Bosco Church in Magog. The three concerts I attended were packed, even with a top price of $85 in Sherbrooke.

Tan Dun Gives Schafer’s “Soundscape” New Dimension

The highlight for me was the Sherbrooke concert. The OSM has not appeared in this city for many years and it was gratifying to see such an enthusiastic response. Nagano’s theme for the evening’s programme was a “Journey to the Heart of Nature;” hence the selection of (photo: right) Tan Dun’s “Water Music,” Debussy’s “La Mer” and Beethoven’s Symphony No. 6 “Pastoral.” Tan Dun’s “Water Concerto” is a complex and strange piece for any audience, but the folks in Sherbrooke clearly found it entertaining, as did I. Although the Salle Maurice-O’Bready at the University of Sherbrooke has extremely dry acoustics, and lacks the warmth, blend and presence one expects from a first-class concert hall, it did provide a clarity of sound that served the Tan Dun piece quite well.

I was reminded of Canadian composer R. Murray Schafer’s term “Soundscape” while listening to Tan Dun’s “Water Concerto.” Schafer was a pioneer in encouraging audiences to appreciate all the fascinating sounds in our world. In his piece, Tan Dun explores virtually all the ways one can use water to make music. There are three solo percussionists in the piece and each one works with what looks like a very large and transparent plastic salad bowl full of water. With their hands, they tap out all sorts of rhythms. They also use water glasses instead of hands to beat out sounds in the water. Finally, the lead percussionist – the astonishing Wang Beibei (photo: below right)– placed some wooden salad bowls of various sizes upside down in the large plastic bowl and using drumsticks, created still more fascinating sounds.

One might well ask how delicate water sounds could possibly compete with the accompaniment of a symphony orchestra. The answer is that each of the bowls of water has a microphone attached, and that Tan Dun’s orchestral scoring is complementary rather than combative.

One of the most effective episodes in the piece has the percussionists beating out galloping horse sounds in their water bowls while wind players in the orchestra contribute the sounds of neighing horses. Corny? Maybe in the telling, but certainly not in the playing. To my ears it was artful and good-humoured.

It should be emphasized that in too many contemporary concertos, the orchestra is given little to do, much of it elementary if not inconsequential. Not so here. Many of the techniques and rhythms could only be executed by a first-rate body of players. Nagano and the OSM played brilliantly.

Sea a Little Dry, but Sounds in Countryside Lush and Fresh

Debussy’s “La Mer” was also well played but suffered from the dryness of the hall. The timpani riff at the end of the piece, although pounded out with authority, sounded like someone beating on a table top with a pair of hammers.

The OSM under Nagano recently made a recording of Beethoven’s “Pastoral” Symphony, scheduled for release this fall, and the orchestra’s performance on this night certainly reflected the most detailed preparation, giving a sense that Nagano had personally inscribed dynamic markings in every bar of each player’s part. There were sounds I felt I was hearing for the first time simply because Nagano and his players had taken such care over balances. This performance was not only well-rehearsed; it was beautiful and joyful.

As will everything that the OSM played this season at Orford, the “Pastoral” will be repeated August 16-18 at the Edinburgh Festival. With that international exposure in mind, I must mention that the horn playing in the Beethoven and in several other works was unacceptably shaky. While Beethoven calls for just a pair of horns in the “Pastoral,” in many performances a third, even a fourth player is often added to spell off the others. Nagano might consider that option for Edinburgh.

Theme of Social Landscapes, Real and Imagined

The Orford Academy Orchestra (OAO) concert began with Karl Amadeus Hartmann’s lugubrious Symphony No. 4. I can’t imagine what led Nagano to choose such a dreadful piece for a summer concert in Magog. It was written in 1946 in response to the terrible war years in Germany. Clearly, noble sentiments do not always translate into great music. This 33-minute piece for string orchestra certainly challenged the young players – perhaps that was the point of the exercise – but the Symphony No. 4 seems to me academic and tedious.

The OAO is much improved this season, and the Saint-Jean Bosco Church is a much better venue for a symphony concert than last year’s Saint-Patrice. Under Nagano’s direction, the OAO gave an accurate and exciting rendition of Stravinsky’s “Petrouchka.”

Guest artist on the OAO programme was the superb pianist Benedetto Lupo, whom I had heard several times in Austin, Texas. On this occasion he played Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 27 with verve and just the right amount of flexibility in dynamics and tempo. Nagano’s accompaniment, however, was lighter and more period-oriented than the Mozart style offered by his soloist.

Schubert Octet a Priceless “Prelude”

On the same evening and in the same venue – August 4, Saint-Jean Bosco Church (photo: right) – members of the OSM played Schubert’s Octet. The Schubert was played at 6 pm and the OAO concert at 8 pm. I assumed – wrongly, as it turned out – that the Schubert was a prelude to the orchestra concert. But, in fact, even though it was only an hour long and devoted to only one piece, it was sold as a separate concert with tickets costing $22. This bit of programming comes perilously close to price-gouging.

On the other hand, the Schubert Octet was played so well it could very accurately be described as priceless. With Andrew Wan in the leader’s chair, phrasing was consistently shapely and the players responded to each other with the utmost concern for timbre and balance. Equally impressive was the choice of tempi. With illustrious performances by the Vienna Octet and the Berlin Octet still ringing in my musical memory, I have long been convinced that this music needs time to breathe and that moderate tempi pay enormous dividends. The OSM players obviously feel the same way and gave us sublime Schubert.

So this was a great week for Nagano, the OSM and Orford, not to mention the music-lovers of Magog and Sherbrooke. The venues have been sorted out, the qualitative bar has been raised and just a little more tinkering needs to be done in programming and marketing. I am looking forward to 2012!

Paul E. Robinson is the author of “Herbert von Karajan: the Maestro as Superstar,” and ”Sir Georg Solti: His Life and Music.” NEW for friends: The Art of the Conductor podcast, “Classical Airs.”

Every summer Marita and I drive from Austin, Texas back to our native Canada, varying our route each year according to events of particular interest on the road and the availability of friends we enjoy visiting.

This year we decided to make a stop in Charlottesville, Virginia, a favourite place we hadn’t visited in too many years. This charming, lively, petite (pop: 40,000) mountain town is home to the University of Virginia where we fondly recalled once having inspected the tiny room inhabited by Edgar Allen Poe during his short tenure as a student here. The literary stature of Poe notwithstanding, Charlottesville is most famous for Monticello, the home of Thomas Jefferson, one of the founding fathers and the third president of the United States.

Castleton Farms Home to Castleton Festival

As we plotted our route from Charlottesville to the Eastern Townships of Quebec, we decided it would be unconscionable to pass within a few miles of Lorin Maazel’s new Castleton Festival without seeing what all the excitement was about; with Maazel in mind, we set out along the back roads of western Virginia.

The town of Castleton turned out to be little more than a general store. Mostly, we were greeted by lush green rolling hills and farmland, with just enough signage to remind locals where they are and to give visitors the feeling that one wrong turn could get them hopelessly lost.

There were few signs directing one to the Castleton Festival. Upon arrival at what we took to be the festival headquarters, our first impression was that everyone had either gone for a walk in the woods or was attending to farm chores. We walked through the small lobby into a tiny jewel of a theatre. We could hardly believe that “La Bohème” had been performed here the day before. The pit could scarcely hold more than a dozen players and the house appeared to have no more than 100 seats.

Back outside, looking off the deck, we could see well-tended gardens and a pond in the distance. Further along the deck we could see a fair number of people in the cafeteria attached to the theatre. It was lunchtime and dozens of young people were either enjoying a meal or working away on laptops – some doing both at once. All in all, it was a beautiful estate, a glorious place for work and leisure.

We continued our explorations, looking now for someone in administration. Across the road from the theatre building was a small barn. Lots of out-of-state license plates in the driveway indicated visitors, but this was clearly a working farm. There were pigs in pens, some cattle, and a zebra – or was it a “zonkey?” Someone with a sense of humour had put up a sign describing an even more unusual animal on the premises – a zonkey – an exotic blend of donkey and zebra. There was even a picture to aid in recognition.

Next door, as we stepped out of the car, one of two young women walking towards us stopped to introduce herself as “one of the Maazel children” and kindly offered to find someone to help us. She disappeared through a hedge and emerged a few minutes later with a strikingly attractive woman, who introduced herself as Dietlinde Maazel. I knew that Dietlinde was the maestro’s wife of 23 years and that she was one of the masterminds of the festival. Lorin Maazel is the president and artistic director and she is vice-president and associate artistic director.

Ms. Maazel (photo: right) exuded tremendous pride in and enthusiasm for the Castleton Festival, and in spite of being interrupted in the middle of what must have been another hectic day, she offered to give us a tour of the facilities. The first thing she set us straight about was the role of the little theatre we had just seen. It was indeed the starting point for all the musical activities at Castleton Farms and many concerts had been held there over the years, and some of the festival’s chamber operas were still presented there.

The main festival performance space, which from the exterior looks like a massive modern barn, was just a half mile up the road. A barn as an opera venue? What an ingenious concept! We entered through the reception area, which had been set up for a gala dinner preceding the opening of “La Bohème” the night before, and then stepped into the auditorium, where a rehearsal for Ravel’s “L’enfant et les Sortilèges” was in progress.

This facility, we learned, had been completed just in time for this year’s Castleton Festival. The centre of attention was the very large performance space with ample backstage area for storing and moving sets, and a pit that seated about 100 musicians. While, for the time being, the 400 seats in the venue are little more than benches and the walls are bare, some upgrading will doubtless take place in years to come.

There was only piano accompaniment at this rehearsal, with the resident festival director, William Kerley, blocking moves for some of the soloists and chorus. Soprano Cecelia Hall, who sings the lead role of the child, sounded wonderful. All the voices projected easily from the stage.

Ms. Hall is typical of participants at the Castleton Festival. She, like most of the other 100 or so singers and the 89 members of the festival orchestra, is a young artist well into a professional career. In most cases, participants have completed their college or conservatory studies and have some professional experience. What they need to really advance their careers is more training from the best in the business, and this is the exceptional opportunity that the Castleton Festival provides: two months working almost daily with Maestro Lorin Maazel and his associates.

The Castleton Festival is a summer music school primarily for opera singers and orchestral players but also for stage directors and administrators. The intensive workload is undertaken in a very nurturing environment designed to enrich young lives. Married participants are encouraged to bring spouses and children, and all performers are housed either in buildings on the 600 acre Maazel farm property or at neighbouring farms. Ms. Maazel acknowledged that the responsibility of keeping track of the 200 plus young artists at Castleton Farms over the summer, particularly given the propensity of some for fast driving on winding country roads, was quite a challenge.

Castleton Festival participants, including singers and orchestra members, are often recruited personally by Maazel as he travels the world guest conducting. The current orchestra, for example, includes players from Qatar, Turkey, China and London.

As we watched the Ravel rehearsal with her, Ms. Maazel seemed to have all the time in the world to answer our questions and to point out the features of her festival, casually remarking at some point in our conversation that the Castleton Festival Orchestra and some of the singers had to be in Toronto, Canada the following evening for a major performance at the BlackCreek Festival, and that the ensemble of about 110 would be leaving that very night. Enviable calm under pressure!

We know that Lorin Maazel is a force of nature among conductors. At the age of 81 he is conducting as much as he ever did, and even finding time to compose and to create a new festival. In his wife Dietlinde, he has obviously found the ideal partner; a magic-making multi-tasker who also thrives on a busy schedule.

After Ms. Maazel’s gracious introduction, we came away anxious to hear a performance by the Castleton Festival participants. We didn’t have long to wait; we had only to drive to Toronto by the following night. A second incentive was the BlackCreek Festival itself, which had opened the week before with a highly-praised event featuring Placido Domingo. Garth Drabinsky’s enterprising new summer offering, the coming together of two major but very young festivals with very different visions – the Castleton, with a focus on mentoring young classical music talent and the BlackCreek, with a focus on big-name extravaganzas and music of many genres – is a new and exciting concept for Toronto.

Sky Traffic, Sound Technology and Top Dollar

I must admit that when I heard about plans for the BlackCreek Festival, I was skeptical. Who would want to pay high prices – $52-$135 for most concerts and a top price of $280 for Domingo – to sit outside on a tennis court listening to amplified classical music?

The Rexall Centre at York University was built to accommodate professional tennis tournaments and physically, it serves that purpose well; situated right under the flight path for landings at Pearson International Airport, however, the location surely cannot be considered ideal for tennis. If less than ideal for tennis, it should be disastrous for classical music performances. At the concert we attended, a plane whirred overhead every 3-4 minutes during one 20-minute period; fortunately, there were more quiet times than noisy during this concert. Clearly, the management of the BlackCreek Festival operates at the mercy of God and the air traffic controllers.

To be fair, however, summer concerts in the great outdoors cannot really be judged by indoor standards. The Ravinia Festival in Chicago has been thriving for decades in spite of the trains that pass by with annoying frequency. As a matter of fact, festival directors there recently made a virtue out of imperfect conditions by commissioning a series of new train-related compositions for the festival.

So…while one might wish the planes to be seen and not heard, does the Rexall Centre have some offsetting advantages?

Opening night at BlackCreek was apparently utter chaos due to the traffic congestion, whereas at the concert I attended, there was no trouble at all; that is, if you don’t mind paying $20 to park, then boarding a school bus to the venue itself. And did I mention that if it rains, ticket-buyers are just out of luck – no rain checks are given and no umbrellas are allowed in the facility.

What about that bane of music-lovers’ existence these days – miked singers and musicians? Amplifier technology has taken over Broadway to the point where genuine singing ability is almost irrelevant and ear-splitting volume is the norm. With 11,000 seats in the Rexall Centre, no shell to assist in the production of high-quality natural sound, and the aforementioned sky traffic, Drabinsky and Co. really had no choice; it was truly amplified sound or nothing.

I am happy to report that the BlackCreek Festival has achieved the impossible: amplified orchestral sound that gives us a reasonable facsimile of the real thing. To be sure, the harp and celesta in excerpts from Prokofiev’s “Romeo and Juliet” were too loud, but otherwise there was warmth, nuance and depth in the string sound and timbral accuracy in the winds and brass. The volume was robust but never excessive.

Even more impressive, perfect for a concert in a venue such as this, was the imaginative use of video. On the big screen overhanging the stage we saw useful facial and profile shots of Maazel and of the vocal soloists positioned with the chorus behind the orchestra and all but invisible to the audience. Most importantly, we had close-ups of Dame Helen Mirren and Jeremy Irons (photo: right) as they played a dozen different characters from Shakespeare’s “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.” Without the video, the audience would have missed completely Irons’ vast range of facial expressions and the subtle interplay with Mirren.

Nor was this “basic video” to spice up the proceedings. Clearly, the video team had taken a great deal of time and trouble to match their shots to the words and the music. This was excellent work that would greatly enhance concert hall performances of similar repertoire.

Orchestra of Maazel’s Making

The Castleton Festival Orchestra had been virtually hand-picked by Maestro Maazel and had been working with him for several weeks. If it did not rise to the level of the New York Philharmonic, his most recent orchestra, it was nonetheless a fine body of players.

Maazel has long been known as a superior technician. His stick technique is clear and decisive and his knowledge of a vast repertoire is legendary. As Maazel ages, he seems less concerned with dazzling effects and more with beauty and expression. Watching him on the podium I am reminded of Fritz Reiner – not that I am old enough to have ever seen Reiner “live” – whose technique and demeanor, on DVDs and by reputation, was similar. Reiner never “acted out” the music and his face was virtually immobile. His expression was severe, to say the least, as Maazel’s, for the most part, is today. Such demeanor often elicits greater discipline and closer attention – even fear – on the part of the musicians, especially the young and impressionable.

Maazel like Reiner and all the best conductors, works out the thousands of details of phrasing, articulation and colour in rehearsal. When it comes to the performance what is needed most on the podium is accuracy, reliability and inspiration. Professional players can be depended upon to remember the details and execute them as agreed in rehearsal.

Under less than ideal concert conditions at the Rexall Centre, Maazel and the Castleton Festival Orchestra made music on a gratifyingly high level. The Prokofiev excerpts were powerful and exciting. Tchaikovsky’s “Romeo and Juliet” Fantasy Overture was even better. Maazel had added some dynamics of his own to Tchaikovsky’s score, but they always made musical sense. Rhythms were crisp and the love music was as passionate as one could hope for. Maazel’s articulation of the final chords was unusual but compelling. The timpani crescendo at the end was brilliant.

There are no cheap effects in Mendelssohn’s “Incidental Music for A Midsummer Night’s Dream” and any conductor who attempts to add them is looking for trouble. Maazel obviously loves this music and played it as Mendelssohn surely intended it to be played. His tempi for the Overture and the Scherzo were far slower than those chosen by many conductors who should know better, and to my ears, perfect. With slower tempi, there is time for accurate execution of the rhythms and accents, as well as time for expressive phrasing. Maazel brought out the beauty of the music without wallowing in romanticism.

Special mention should be made of Ottawa-born Joyce El-Khoury, (photo: right) one of Maazel’s favourite sopranos, who recently scored a major success as Mimi in his new production of “La Bohème” at Castleton. El-Khoury’s brief solos in the Mendelssohn had a youthful tone that was a joy to hear.

Mirren and Irons recounted the “Midsummer Night’s Dream” plot line for us and spoke some of its most memorable lines as they played the various characters. This play is magical in its exploration of young love and the interplay of human and supernatural forces. Irons amazed the audience with his command of accents and voices, and Mirren lived up to her reputation as one of the most skilled and versatile actresses of our time.

It was a glorious concert, with the music, poetry, actors and musicians all combining magnificently to overcome the risks of performing in an open air venue.

But did the people come? I would guess that there were fewer than 2,000 people in attendance on this night in a facility that holds 11,000, a much smaller audience than had shown up for Domingo on opening night.

I suspect that while we had the crème de la crème in Maazel, Mirren, Irons et. al., only the pop stars and classical superstars like Domingo will be able to fill a place as big as the Rexall, and at such inflated prices.

Something has got to give; either Drabinsky gives up trying to present classical music in such a venue or he drastically reduces the prices for such events.

Maazel in for More than a Midsummer’s Night at BlackCreek

As suggested earlier in this piece, the two festivals covered here are a study in contrasts but they also intersect in interesting ways.

Castleton is one artist’s vision of how to develop young talent. Maazel economizes by using his own property and a lot of his own money but the scope of the vision requires more resources in the long run. Maazel is thinking long-term. I note that on the Staff List for the BlackCreek Festival, Maazel is listed as “Artistic Advisor, Classical Programming.”

This is where Castleton and BlackCreek come together. Maazel wants the exposure that BlackCreek can give his young performers but he also needs the income. Fees from appearances such as this, beyond Castleton, surely help to subsidize the basic programme back home. On the basis of his reputation and contacts, Maazel has been able to set up similar arrangements in California (Berkeley), Maryland (Bethesda), Virginia (Manassas), and China (Beijing).

After all, it makes no economic sense to be mounting full-scale opera productions and concerts in Castleton with a large orchestra in a facility seating 400; only by repeating them elsewhere can the costs be recouped.

Castleton and BlackCreek are both exciting, new ventures, albeit it with very different goals. Time will tell whether their visionary founders have understood their markets and accurately crunched their numbers.

Paul E. Robinson is the author of “Herbert von Karajan: the Maestro as Superstar,” and ”Sir Georg Solti: His Life and Music.” NEW for friends: The Art of the Conductor podcast, “Classical Airs.”

Roberto Sierra (photo: above) was born in Puerto Rico and studied with György Ligeti in Germany. Since 1992 he has been a member of the faculty of music at Cornell University, and is widely recognized as one of the leading composers of his generation.

Sierra’s “Missa Latina ‘Pro Pace’ (For Peace)” was commissioned by Washington’s National Symphony and the Choral Arts Society, and Leonard Slatkin conducted the premiere with those combined ensembles in 2006. Since that time the work has been performed in major cities around the United States, each time with great success.

Craig Hella Johnson (photo: right) and Conspirare brought the “Missa Latina” to Texas last month with performances in Victoria and in Austin, where I heard it.

Some years ago composer Osvaldo Golijov had a major triumph with his “Pasión según San Marco” (2000), which combined elements of the Christian liturgy with folkloric elements from the music of Latin America. Sierra attempts a similar cross-fertilization but in a more conservative, less theatrical way. Both works are valuable additions to the modern repertoire of Christian liturgical music.

Sierra clearly sets himself in the great tradition of symphonic masses; that is to say, compositions by the great composers which reach beyond the confines of church services. J.S. Bach was one of the originators of this tradition with his “B minor Mass” and then came Haydn, Beethoven, and Bruckner.

In the twentieth century Leonard Bernstein took a radical, popularizing approach to the challenge of writing a mass and produced a work that is still controversial. Although Sierra didn’t use Bernstein as a model he introduced “pop” elements from his own Caribbean culture. He also emulated Bernstein in wanting to convey a social message through his music. Sierra, who has often said that he is troubled by the “constant state of war” in our modern world, added a plea for peace to his Latin mass.

The “Missa Latina” begins with an ‘Introitus,’ the opening words of which are “Da pacem, Domine” (Give peace, O Lord). This ‘Introitus,’ which is slow-moving, quiet and dominated by the soprano soloist, also has a languid peacefulness that reminded me of several of Canteloube’s “Songs of the Auvergne,” but then the ‘Kyrie’ bursts forth and we are in the midst of an angry world very much in need of peace. The ‘Gloria’ follows, providing relief with dance rhythms and major key brightness abounding. The ‘Credo’ is again dark and disturbing. It is here that we are reminded of the coming of Jesus and his crucifixion.

The ‘Sanctus’ contains the most joyous music in the “Missa Latina” and listeners may well have trouble resisting the urge to get up and dance. The work ends with an ‘Agnus Dei’ and another plea for peace. The soprano solo is dominant in this movement with soaring, quasi-improvisatory melodic patterns. Sierra ends the work on a positive note, repeating the rhythmically infectious Alleluia from the ‘Offertorium.’

In spite of its use of popular Latin dance rhythms, the “Missa Latina” is a deeply serious and complex work. The harmonies are often abrasively chromatic and the contrapuntal choral writing occasionally academic.

One of the weaknesses of the piece may be that it is so relentlessly thick in texture. The “Missa Latina” might have benefitted greatly from the addition of several purely orchestral episodes, and a more frequent use of solos in the orchestra; for the most part, the upper strings in the orchestra couldn’t be heard at all through the obscuring weight of the wind and brass – even in quiet passages. This imbalance is not the fault of the conductor; it is simply poor orchestration. As with so many things in art and life, less is often more.

The same principle applies to the vocal solos. Soprano Heidi Grant Murphy (photo: right), who was featured in the premiere performance and in many subsequent ones, sang magnificently on this occasion, with a lovely range of colors and total command of phrasing. Sierra, however, went too far in his demands on the soprano voice. Murphy began to show signs of strain near the end of her performance, by which time some audience members were clearly beginning to tire of the seemingly endless soprano solos in this piece.

Happily, Ms. Murphy had no trouble projecting over the choral and orchestral forces. Baritone Daniel Teadt, on the other hand, was too often simply overwhelmed.

The Conspirare Symphonic Choir and the Conspirare Company of Voices were joined by the Texas State University Chorale and the Victoria Bach Festival Orchestra and Chorus, under the direction of conductor Craig Hella Johnson. As is the case with most productions organized by Johnson and Conspirare, the musical standard was extraordinarily high.

Judging by the enthusiastic response at the Austin performance, the audience loved the “Missa Latina.” True, they were applauding the performers, most of whom are known and respected locally, but surely they were also expressing their appreciation for a work which challenged them and enriched their lives. As does Beethoven’s “Missa Solemnis,” a work many listeners still find “difficult” to understand, Sierra’s “Missa Latina” packs an emotional and dramatic punch that is almost irresistible.

For Those Wanting More…

The “Missa Latina” was recorded in 2008 by the Milwaukee Symphony Orchestra and Chorus conducted by Andreas Delfs with Heidi Grant Murphy, soprano, and Nathaniel Webster, baritone (Naxos 8.559624). Much of Roberto Sierra’s vast compositional output has been recorded. For a complete list and more information about the composer visit his website at www.robertosierra.com.

For the record, this was not the Texas premiere of Sierra’s “Missa Latina; that honour goes to the Houston Symphony and Chorus, led by Leonard Slatkin (May, 2009) with – yes, Heidi Grant Murphy as the soprano soloist!

Paul E. Robinson is the author of “Herbert von Karajan: the Maestro as Superstar,” and ”Sir Georg Solti: His Life and Music.” NEW for friends: The Art of the Conductor podcast, “Classical Airs.”

The Beethoven Ninth Symphony is one of the most overplayed pieces in orchestral literature, but it sells tickets by the bushel and managers seldom go wrong, even when programming it season after season. To call it “overplayed” is not to say that it isn’t a great work or that it doesn’t bring out the best in conductors and orchestras; indeed it is and indeed it does. These facts took me back to Dallas recently to hear Jaap van Zweden and the Dallas Symphony (DSO) engage with the Ninth in the Meyerson Symphony Center.

Van Zweden recorded all the Beethoven symphonies in his native Holland, and recently he recorded the Fifth and the Seventh with the Dallas Symphony. To a certain extent, then, I knew what to expect: intensity, excitement, speed. The quick tempi are by no means arbitrary; Beethoven’s metronome markings require them. That said, conductors of the stature of Otto Klemperer were highly regarded in their time for tempi that were extremely slow – they simply ignored the metronome markings and no-one seemed to care.

That was yesterday. Today we live in a more enlightened time, a time in which period instrument specialists have come to the fore and respect for the written score is more the fashion.

Former Violinist van Zweden a Master of Nuance

From the perspective of the early 21^st Century, it might seem obvious that the composer’s metronome markings should be followed. There was a reason, however, why some of the great conductors of the past – not to mention piano soloists and string quartets – looked askance at some of these markings; some of them were surely mistakes. Perhaps Beethoven didn’t understand how to use the newly-invented metronome, or perhaps he was simply too deaf to judge how fast his music could be played. In any case, there is still plenty of room for disagreement over correct tempi for the Beethoven symphonies. Ultimately, the success or failure of a performance depends not so much on choice of tempi but on what the conductors and players can do within those tempi.

In van Zweden’s case what is most remarkable is that he somehow finds time for the most nuanced phrasing even at the fastest tempo. This was particularly evident on this occasion in the slow movement variations. The slower tempi taken by many conductors here to underscore the gravity of the music, often render the movement interminable and shapeless. Van Zweden adopts the composer’s metronome markings and this makes the complex figurations the strings must play very difficult. How is it possible to give meaning to this multitude of notes at such tempi? The answer is meticulous rehearsal, with infinite care taken over dynamics and choice of bow stroke. As an ex-string virtuoso, van Zweden has a special talent for achieving the results he’s after.

Two Superb Concertmasters for the Price of One!

In this performance, Maestro van Zweden was supported by not one but two master concertmasters at the first desk. Newly-appointed DSO concertmaster Alexander Kerr (photo: right) was on hand and sitting beside him was David Taylor, a longtime assistant concertmaster of the Chicago Symphony. Taylor had been engaged many months ago as a guest concertmaster at the beginning of the search for a successor to Emanuel Borok. Partway through the process, a decision was made to appoint Kerr. That meant that Taylor never got a chance to show what he could do; nevertheless, he honoured his original agreement and came along anyway. It should come as no surprise that the DSO string sound on this night was special.

Incidentally, Alexander Kerr succeeded van Zweden as concertmaster of the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra. You can see him in action with the RCO playing the solos in Strauss’ “Ein Heldenleben” with Mariss Jansons conducting, on a DVD issued in 2004 (RCO 04103)

The entire Dallas Symphony played the Beethoven Ninth with commitment and precision. A special mention is due new timpanist, ex-Detroit Symphony principal Brian Jones. He raised the roof in the big moments – his solos in the scherzo, and the dynamic rolls and sharp accents at the recapitulation in the first movement – and blended his sound beautifully with the ensemble when required.

Choral Dynamics and Phrasing Exceptional

The Dallas Symphony Chorus reached an international standard under the late David R. Davidson, and on this occasion was more than adequate under its assistant conductor Melody Gamblin-Bullock. Her name was not included in the original printed programme but by the second night performance – the one I attended – she had made it into the insert. This was an inexcusable oversight. In any case, as of this summer Joshua Habermann, a University of Texas graduate with a great breadth of choral conducting experience, will be in charge of the chorus.

What struck me about the choral contribution in this performance were the vast number of major and minor alterations in dynamics and phrasing. These are not found in the printed score but most of them made perfect sense. These were obviously Jaap van Zweden’s ideas and many of them were clearly based on similar passages in the orchestra. It is often said that Beethoven treated voices like instruments. Van Zweden took this characterization literally and made the vocal parts much more expressive and interesting than usual.

Among the soloists there was a last-minute substitution. Soprano Sabina Cvilak fell ill and was replaced by Texas resident Jeanine Thames. Unfortunately, her contribution was simply not up to the overall standard of the performance. On the other hand, bass Luca Pisaroni was excellent, with a strong presence and fine evenness of tone and intonation throughout his wide-ranging solos.

Multi-talented Tao Shines in Shostakovich

The concert began with the Concerto No. 1 for Piano, Solo Trumpet and Strings Op. 35 by Shostakovich. The soloist was 15-year-old Chinese-American pianist Conrad Tao (photo: right) , an uncommonly gifted young man who plays both piano and violin and is also a composer. He lives in New York and studies at Juilliard. He charmed the audience with his technique and his ability to tease the playfulness out of the music. Van Zweden “discovered” this young artist at a concert they did together in Singapore and no doubt Tao will become a regular guest with the DSO.

The solo trumpet part in the Shostakovich was played with equal virtuosity by principal trumpet of the Dallas Symphony, Ryan Anthony. Anthony tossed off the many fanfares in the piece without appearing to break a sweat and brought a lovely singing quality to the bluesy solo in the slow movement.

For Those Wanting More…

Laurie Shulman writes the uncommonly thorough programme notes for the Dallas Symphony. She also gives many of the DSO’s pre-concert talks. In addition, she is the author of a massive and comprehensive book on the building of the Meyerson Symphony Center. This book is not only an historic document on the construction of one of the world’s great concert halls, but also a first-rate primer on acoustical design. Wearing her acoustical design hat. Laurie was recently invited to the opening of a radically-rebuilt concert hall in Omsk, Siberia. The man responsible for getting the acoustics right in Omsk was Nicholas Edwards, the man largely responsible for ensuring that the Myerson turned out so well. Edwards was also the acoustician for Symphony Hall in Birmingham, England. During her visit to Omsk, Laurie blogged every day for the DSO.

On the subject of concertmasters and former Detroit Symphony musicians, it has just been announced that Detroit Symphony concertmaster Emmanuelle Boisvert will be moving to the Dallas Symphony next season to take up the position of Associate Concertmaster. These latest defections from Detroit underscore how difficult it has been to keep that orchestra going in a tough economy. But Boisvert is a wonderful player and the Dallas Symphony is lucky to have her. This appointment also speaks volumes about the ability of Maestro van Zweden to attract top players to Dallas.

Paul E. Robinson is the author of “Herbert von Karajan: the Maestro as Superstar,” and ”Sir Georg Solti: His Life and Music.” NEW for friends: The Art of the Conductor podcast, “Classical Airs.”

It’s not possible to be in two places at once, or is it? Thanks to “The Met Live in HD,” I virtually spent the afternoon in New York enjoying “Le Comte Ory,” and the evening at the Long Center in Austin, Texas, totally engrossed in Jonathan Dove’s “Flight” as presented by the Austin Lyric Opera.

“Le Comte Ory” and “Flight” are far from standard opera fare, yet both were first-class entertainment, and, in the case of “Flight,” philosophically interesting too. These two productions had something else in common; each of them involved the birth of a child – one off stage and the other on, but more about that later.

Rossini’s “Le Comte Ory” may not be as noteworthy as his “Il Barbiere di Siviglia” or “La Cenerentola,” but in a production as good as this one by The Met, with a cast almost too good to be true, it doesn’t really matter.

Director Bartlett Sher has a real flair for this kind of piece. “Le Comte Ory” is essentially a small scale chamber piece best seen in an opera house seating 500-1,000 people. It is really absurd to be producing it at The Met with its 3,800 seats.

Size and space notwithstanding, Sher worked magic. Rather than destroy the work by opening it out to the parameters of the mammoth Met stage, he preserved the essence of the opera by scaling down. To accomplish this, he came up with the ‘conceit’ of doing the opera as a play within a play. He devised a stage or raised playing area using only a small part of the vast Met stage.

What the audience saw was activity on and offstage, as it were, with a stage manager “managing” and his crew moving sets, props, and the curtain as required. How this all looked to The Met audience at the back of the third tier I have no idea, but for the audience in the movie theatre it was an ideal way to present the opera. Of course, the movie audience also had the advantage of being able to see facial expressions and the small bits of business that propelled the production.

Heading the cast were singers ideal for their roles: tenor Juan Diego Florez as the hopelessly randy Count Ory; mezzo-soprano Joyce Di Donato as his page; and soprano Diana Damrau as the Countess Adèle.

Florez was sensational tossing off his high Cs and Ds and Damrau inhabited the coloratura stratosphere as if she owned it. Di Donato, who didn’t get to demonstrate any high-pitched fireworks, did what she always does – made a gorgeous sound and executed the technical turf with the greatest of ease and accuracy.

The ensembles were impressive. With a brilliant conductor at the helm, in the person of Maurizio Benini, these complicated set pieces came off splendidly. The Act I finale had speed, accuracy and most remarkably, beauty of sound.

The most memorable scene in the opera was indubitably the ‘three-in-a-bed romp’ with Florez, Damrau and Di Donato, all of whom must have worked for days with director Sher to get the movements of hands, legs, lips, etc. to coordinate so perfectly with the music. There is definitely potential in this scene for a slapstick and tasteless rendering, but Sher didn’t go there; instead, he gave us a sophisticated and intricate staging, clearly based on Molière and the high art of Seventeenth and Eighteenth Century French comedy.

After a break for dinner – and an update on the Masters from Augusta – Marita and I dashed downtown to see a very different kind of opera.

Jonathan Dove’s “Flight” was premiered at Glyndebourne in 1998, and for a contemporary work, it has garnered an extraordinary number of productions around the world. It’s a “comic opera,” for the most part, but in no way does it relate to “musical comedy” or the lighter category of musical stage works. The music in “Flight” is highly complex – particularly in its rhythms – and there are no arias in the usual sense of the word.

As I have suggested, “Flight” also has a philosophical dimension. It is based on the real life tragedy of an Iranian refugee named Mehran Nasseri, who lived in Charles de Gaulle airport in Paris for nearly eighteen years. Without proper papers, no country would take him. The story is best known in a 2004 film version by Steven Spielberg (“Terminal”), but a more reliable source is Nasseri’s own autobiography “The Terminal Man.”

Dove and his librettist (April de Angelis) have depicted Nasseri’s story not only in its essence, but also as a kind of parable for our times. That said, they focus on the comic potential and downplay some of the most disturbing elements. In real life, Nasseri was trapped by the rigidity of immigration departments in Belgium, France and the U.K. He may also have been mentally ill. He was finally released from his terminal “prison” for health reasons and is now apparently living in a homeless shelter.

In “Flight,” Nasseri is simply called ‘The Refugee’ and, somewhat oddly, his plight is treated as a secondary issue. More time is spent on the affair between the Stewardess and the Steward, marital problems between Bill and Tina about to leave on a vacation in the tropics, and a couple going to Minsk. There is also an Older Woman, alone in the terminal but dreaming about relationships past, present and future.

All these people, like ‘The Refugee,’ are trapped in a ‘terminal;’ that is to say, their lives as they have lived them so far. Generally, they are unhappy with who they are and with the people to whom they are married or with whom they have a relationship.

Most travelers – but not ‘The Refugee’ – can eventually leave the “terminal.” In “Flight,” as the characters depart the ‘physical’ terminal at the end of the opera, they also set out with a new sense of themselves and of each other.

One of the most imaginative touches on Jonathan Dove’s part was to score the airport Controller’s part for a coloratura, and correspondingly, on the director’s part, to position her on a very high platform (the control tower) onstage. She is the link between planes and people, sky and earth, and perhaps God and man. Nili Riemer was wonderful in this role, producing soaring lines of melody perfectly in tune with her character.

Equally inspired was the composer’s choice of a counter-tenor voice – an ideal range for a ‘misfit,’ an ‘alien’ – for the role of ‘The Refugee.’ Nicholas Zammit, fresh out of UCLA and a last minute substitute in this production, sang and played this part with beauty, accuracy and a real touch of innocence in his demeanor. Talk about auspicious debuts!

In giving ‘otherworldly’ voices to the Controller and ‘The Refugee,’ both of whom “live” in the terminal but have ‘personas’ that reach out to worlds scarcely imagined or understood, Dove and de Angelis clearly intended to suggest a relationship between these two characters.

This was an excellent cast assembled in Austin by General Director Kevin Patterson, conductor Richard Buckley and stage director Kristine McIntyre.

As usual, Buckley ran a tight ship from the ‘pit’ and deserves a lot of credit for achieving such amazing precision in a very difficult work on opening night.

And the babies I mentioned? The Minsk Woman gave birth on stage in “Flight,” and earlier in the day, just a half hour before her husband was due on stage at The Met, Mrs. Juan Diego Florez gave birth to a son, Leandro, at home in the Upper West Side of New York. May both newcomers live long and happy lives!

It was a compliment to the stature of this production that composer Jonathan Dove was in attendance. He appeared on stage with the cast to share in the well-deserved applause at the end. I suspect that he was pleased with what he saw and heard.

Incidentally, whoever harbors the notion that Austin doesn’t appreciate classical music should know that on the occasion of the opening night performance of “Flight” at the Long Center, the Mayor of Austin declared the date “Jonathan Dove Day” in the city!

For Those Wanting More…

While the Met production of “Le Comte Ory” generally pleased the critics, noted Rossini scholar Philip Gossett was not happy.

Gossett believes that the standard 1828 edition of the score used by the Met is unreliable and misrepresents what the composer intended. In his opinion, The Met should have used the new scholarly version based on recently discovered original performance materials; this version is being published by Bärenreiter and has already been used for a production by the Zurich Opera.

It should be noted that Mr. Gossett is the General Editor of this new edition.

In commenting on this dispute in a recent article in the New York Times (April 8, 2011), Anthony Tommasini points out that the newly discovered ‘original’ scoring is fuller and more complete than the 1828 edition: “The Act I finale, which Rossini lovers know as a madcap ensemble for seven solo singers and chorus, was originally scored for and performed by 13 solo singers and two combative choruses. And for the spirited final choral ensemble of the opera, which comes after a hauntingly romantic trio and has always seemed strangely abrupt, Mr. Gossett and his team have discovered 100 additional measures.”

So kudos to The Met for reviving this neglected Rossini confection and going all out on the casting, but thumbs down for its failure to take advantage of the latest scholarship.

Paul E. Robinson is the author of “Herbert von Karajan: the Maestro as Superstar,” and ”Sir Georg Solti: His Life and Music.” NEW for friends: The Art of the Conductor podcast, “Classical Airs.”

Photo (above): Maestro Richard Buckley with “Flight” cast members by Marita

by Paul E. Robinson

A lingering recession is the worst of times for the arts generally and for music education specifically. Hardly a day goes by without more news of cuts to funding of orchestras, theatres, art galleries, museums and schools. The bad news, however, is often offset by good news; for example, the Royal Conservatory of Music (Toronto, Canada) just announced a partnership with Carnegie Hall to introduce a national system of study and assessment in the U.S. modeled after the RCM’s comprehensive and highly respected programme, and the Venezuelan movement called El Sistema has taken root in the United States as well, with encouraging results.

More modest classical music education programmes are flourishing all over the United States and some seem almost impervious to economic or political ups and downs.

One such venture was initiated in Austin in 1991 by violinist Robert Rudié under the name Chamber Music in the Public Schools (CHAMPS). Today CHAMPS works every year with at least 60 students in a total of eleven schools.

To judge by the benefit concert given last week at the Ballet Austin Headquarters, CHAMPS has more support than ever. Several years ago, I was one of a total of approximately 50 people who attended a similar CHAMPS event. This time out there were more than 250 in attendance.

The State of Texas, like most U.S. states, has a huge budget deficit, and hundreds of teachers are being laid off, but proven programmes like CHAMPS continue to grow. Why? I would guess that driving this growth are parents who care enough about their children’s classical music education to make the effort to find the money to fund the programmes that provide it.

The big attraction at this year’s CHAMPS benefit concert was Elizabeth Pitcairn performing on the “Red Violin.”

In 1998, Canadian director Francois Girard made a film (poster: right) called “The Red Violin” about a Stradivarius violin (the “Red Mendelssohn”) and its mysterious history. This particular Strad was called the “Red Violin” because of the distinctive colour of its varnish. Unlike most Strads, the whereabouts of which have been well chronicled over history, the “Red Violin” vanished from sight for more than 200 years; the film speculates about the people who might have owned it and/or played it throughout those years.

Current owner of the “Red Violin”, Elizabeth Pitcairn, comes from a distinguished musical family in Bucks County, Pennsylvania. Her great-grandfather founded the Pittsburg Plate Glass Company (PPG) and her father trained to be an opera singer. Her mother, Mary Eleanor Brace Pitcairn, has an Austin connection, having studied cello at the University of Texas. Elizabeth herself studied with Robert Lipsett at USC in Los Angeles. She concertizes internationally and, until recently, served as co-concertmaster for the New West Symphony under Boris Brott.

Pitcairn became a part of the history of the “Red Violin” when her family bought this priceless instrument  for her at auction almost twenty years ago. The auction price is said to have been $1.6 million.

Accompanist for Ms. Pitcairn at the Austin concert was Toby Blumenthal (photo: right), newly appointed director of CHAMPS. Pitcairn and Blumenthal are both directors of a summer music school, The Luzerne Music Center New York State), founded by Toby and her late husband Bert Phillips, a longtime cellist in the Philadelphia Orchestra.

This CHAMPS fundraiser concert was thoroughly enjoyable and no doubt an inspiration for all the young people in attendance. Between pieces, Ms. Pitcairn charmed the audience with some personal anecdotes and a brief history of her famous violin – which she has named “Felix.” Judging by her love of music, her ability to charm an audience, and her virtuosic playing, Elisabeth Pitcairn seems an ideal role model for young people just beginning to explore the wonders of classical music.

Playing with authority and panache, she began her short programme with Beethoven’s “Spring” Sonata then went on to pieces by Gershwin, Dinicu, Paganini and Monti. The sound of the “Red Violin” was pure gold in Paganini’s “Cantabile.” and distinctively exciting in the fireworks of Monti’s “Csardas.”

The CHAMPS programme made a wise choice in inviting Elizabeth and “Felix” to perform their magic in Austin. I am certain that many children and their parents left this concert vowing to redouble their efforts to make good music an important part of all their lives.

Paul E. Robinson is the author of “Herbert von Karajan: the Maestro as Superstar,” and ”Sir Georg Solti: His Life and Music.” NEW for friends: The Art of the Conductor podcast, “Classical Airs.”

Photo slideshow by Marita