My Month of Mozart

Mozart was marketed heavily in the 250th anniversary of his birth. The Mozart Project was launched - a huge meta-website with so much traffic in its first few days that it crashed their servers. Opera and symphony seasons were planned around Mozart. Radio stations ran "your favourite Mozart piece" contests. In my group of friends we chose his Requiem as our favourite. (Actually, I collect requia, because I love sad music. Mozart's is one my favourites among these, too.)

Now, Mozart's birthday was January 27th, 1756.  He just passed 255. There seems to be an upwelling around him again. The Toronto Symphony Orchestra spent a week or so honouring Mozart. One of their guests was the brilliant and adorable violinist James Ehnes. (I have added a link to his home page.)

I heard from Julie Nesrallah, who does the morning classical show on CBC Radio 2, (I have added a link to her Twitter feed), that Ehnes and Mozart HAVE THE SAME BIRTHDAY! Meaningful? I kind of hope so.  I got to see the concert because my friend K, the violinist, got us tickets. It was an amazing performance.


A door has opened for me with this friend. I have been doing pretty well on opera. I have always been a piano aficionado. The violin - I know nothing. In listening to the two Mozart concerti played together by same violinist, we recognized what I looked up to be the "cadenza" a part in a concerto where the soloist may improvise. The way Ehnes played the two cadenzas sounded similar and quite modern, with discord and superfast fingering. (Ehnes also famously plays Paganini - one of the first guys reputed to have sold his soul to the devil in exchange for musical ability.) On the other hand, when I started to look into it a bit, it seems that Mozart, who wrote all his violin concerti in the early part of his career, when he emphasized the violin rather than the keyboard as his own performance instrument, is one of the first composers to have written out the cadenza parts, rather than leaving them to the violinist. Hmmm, A mystery that needs more work. Maybe I should send an email and ask Ehnes himself? And maybe I should check with the also-adorable Tom Allen, the host of the afternoon classical program on CBC Radio 2. He knows everything. I'll do that later. (I have also added a link to his Twitter feed.) Oh! And I'll ask some music teachers.

There is another mystery here, too. I love the sound of a baroque orchestra. I have always mentally located the different sound of the instruments in the strings, and some of it is the gut stringing.

But, as Wikipedia says: A baroque violin is, in common usage, any violin whose neck, fingerboard, bridge, and tailpiece are of the type used during the baroque period. Such an instrument may be an original built during the baroque and never changed to modern form; or a modern replica built as a baroque violin; or an older instrument which has been converted (or re-converted) to baroque form [my emphasis - modernized and then unmodernized]. And there is also this, from the History of the Violin on Wikipedia: the fingerboard was made a little longer to be able to play even the highest notes; the fingerboard was tilted a little more, to produce even more volume as larger and larger orchestras became popular: nearly all old instruments were modified, including lengthening of the neck by one centimeter, in response to the raising of pitch that occurred in the 19th century. (In the photo the modern is on the right - you can see it is longer, with a longer throat.)



However, my friend also instructed me that the playing technique favoured now also varies from the technique favoured during the baroque. For one thing, more bow pressure also produces louder sounds - and the corollary is that part of the popularity of baroque music is that it still falls within humanist dimensions - smaller number of instruments, less dynamic range, less pitch or tonal range. There is a great chart that shows the human voice as the standard range against which all other instruments are compared that shows this beautifully. You can see the baroque instruments lined up under the top line in the middle, which is the human voice.

Modern technology pushes all of these out past the limit of the human body to produce or even appreciate. There have also been changes in bowing technique - in particular the addition of vibrato. I learned this between the two concerti, and I realized in watching the second one that in every longer note, all the violins and violas (and possibly the other strings too, but I couldn't see them as clearly) used vibrato. Here Wikipedia says: Vibrato is a technique of the left hand and arm in which the pitch of a note varies in a pulsating rhythm. While various parts of the hand or arm may be involved in the motion, the end result is a movement of the fingertip bringing about a slight change in vibrating string length. Some violinists oscillate backwards, or lower in pitch from the actual note when using vibrato, since it is believed that perception favors the highest pitch in a varying sound.  I have not yet figured out the when where why and who of vibrato. I'm going to have to dig deeper to understand it.

What I really don't get is that here is Ehnes, who uses a Stradivarius violin from 1715, playing baroque music written between 1770 and 1780, in the modern way - ie with a baroque instrument converted to the modern style and favouring (I imagine, among other modern techniques) vibrato. (Just to be sure it's clear: Mozart is considered to be a composer who came out of the baroque and pushed music into the "classical" period. By comparison, Beethoven came out of the "classical" period and pushed music into the romantic. Beethoven actually studied for a while with Mozart. )

How did it get to be that the received way to play this music on this instrument is with modern updates in technology and technique? How did these qualities acquire their value to the extent that they pushed out the original intentions of the creator? This will come up again in a couple of paragraphs, if you can stand it.

 Now, on with Mozart. I always go on and on about kids and opera, and I was really interested when I saw that the Canadian Opera Company was offering a family performance of Mozart's The Magic Flute this month. It is performed by the ensemble instead of the company, the seats are super-cheap, and the entire audience will be filled with rustling and wriggling kids. What a great way to let them start to see opera! I have often thought of trying this opera with my kids, but as a regular performance it seemed a bit challenging.

Once again, I give props (insert hand gesture here) to the Classical Kids CD series (of Beethoven Lives Upstairs fame). They give Mozart two different stories on CD, and one is Mozart's Magic Fantasy, focusing on the music and story of the magic flute. It is completely delightful, and a perfect intro. In fact thanks to Mozart's Magic Fantasy, the first time I ever checked out YouTube was on a rainy Sunday, stuck at home. I sat with my kids and we looked up different performances of the Queen of the Night, from The Magic Flute, and compared them. From there we went on to the Commendatore scene from Mozart's Don Giovanni. Fantastic or what?

Staying with the idea of Mozart, the first baroque opera I ever saw was a performance of Don Giovanni by Opera Atelier - Toronto's specialist baroque opera company. They took pains to inform the audience that they would perform it baroque style, not romantic. Cool! Faster and lighter in every way. I fell in love with Opera Atelier then and there. It is a theory of mine that we are still using the "romantic" paradigm for the arts, and I guess that I am saying that very thing about the Ehnes performance - the orchestration was romantic, because that sounds "right" to modern listeners, even thought the music was created for something different.

AND...to finalize this month of Mozart, I was able to get tickets for Opera Atelier's upcoming performance of Mozart's La Clemenza di Tito. No kids for this one. I know nothing about it. Must look up story.  Must look up music.

I have seen Measha Brueggergosman and Michael Maniaci together in OA's Idomeneo a couple of years ago. He is about the world's only male soprano (a true voice) and I can't wait to see them again. (You can find a post about it under my tag "opera".)

PS What better way to spend a snow day than listening to, thinking about and writing to my friends about music!

Now the marigold is wondering nervously: Have I written too much? Should I have also included what I learned about Rondo form? Should I have included the link to Vladimir Ahskenazy playing Mozart's darkish Rondo in A Minor? What about Rondo alla Turca? What about the general Turkish/Masonic connections of Mozart that show in all kinds of Mozart music, including The Magic Flute? Should I do a separate post on that? What do you think?

My Top Reads of 2010

OK OK people! I hear you clamouring for this list, wondering where it is, why I didn't get it out yet. The abrupt re-entry on January 3rd took away my usual holiday writing time, and I read right up to midnight on the 31st of December before deciding, but here it is!

Once again, I chose only the best and then counted them (rather than filling a pre-determined number of slots) and this year I came up with 12 books. At first, it felt like kind of a light-weight reading year. Lots of young adult books, couple or three graphic novels. I guess my attention span is moving with the times. On the other hand, when I look at the titles I actually chose as the best, I see that I did not waste time with too much that was not seriously interesting to me, so that kind of balances it out.

It should be noted, again, as usual, that this list comes from what I read, not from what was published during 2010. I divided them into fiction and non-fiction and then put the books in alphabetical order by author.

Without further ado, here is the list with a reason for each choice, and absolutely no hints about content.

Fiction:

The Danger Box - by Blue Balliet (2010)
This is a YA (young adult) book, but smart and delightful like all Balliet's books. The premise - that any book can be a "danger box" full of ideas - reflected in a story about a controversial book in a box that is dangerous to own - is hugely poetic.


World War Z - by Max Brooks (2007)
Not quite the first zombie book I read, but I got this one at the early part of the explosion, before the category sagged under its own weight. (It's a tipping point thing.) What made this one special is that it also felt like a well-researched future history book. Cold and gripping and not played for laughs, unlike every other single zombie book I read. And I read a few. 


You or Someone Like You - by Chandler Burr (2010)
Who is this guy? How did he get out a book blurbed as "the most controversial book of 2010" or some such, without me ever hearing about it? It's about a specialized reading group, and it offers a very high-brow reading list, but organized in a "novel" way (get it?), but it is also a risk-taking polemic about the need to move beyond religious identity.


The Hunger Games trilogy - by Suzanne Collins (2008, 2009, 2010) How long has it been since you have put down a finished book in the evening thinking "Tomorrow morning I will get the sequel and start it"? Have you ever thought that? This series was unbelievably compelling, even for a reasonably seasoned reader such as myself. Can't say enough good things about it. Recommend it to everyone I discuss books with, despite it being a YA (young adult) book.


Beowulf - translated/updated by Kevin Crossley-Holland, illustrated by Charles Keeping (1987) This is maybe a bit of a cheat, but it feels right to have this on the list. I ran into this because of the beautiful illustrations, starting with the cover. It was short and sweet (so to speak), and I decided to share it with my kids, who listened to me read aloud, while they coloured and asked questions. There were wonderful bits that reflect its Old English poetic roots (like alliteration instead of rhyme) and it lead us to listen to couple of dozen lines read aloud in Old English, just for the sensation of hearing it. Then I found out that the translator and illustrator are well-known in the field, and I see why. I have been recommending this around to parents I know, too.  


Vanishing Point - by David Markson (2004)
By far the cleverest book on the list. As a writer he comes recommended by arguably the most highly qualified reader I know, and I had this on my to-read pile for a long time, without connecting it to her advice. So different I won't say anything and spoil it for you. Meanwhile the book of his the expert really recommends is Wittgenstein's Mistress, and I will try to get that going this year.


Android Karenina - by Leo Tolstoy and Ben Winters (2010) I think mash-up is an absolutely current art-form, and I love it. I have been through a couple of literary ones. This one was cool for me because the original is a novel I know well, and even more cool because the mash-up did not take it off-track, but rather emphasized a different part of the original theme.


Although now that I think about it, look how dark and grim these books are. I always say I would rather be offended (or scared or disturbed or puzzled) than bored, so that's the kind of list you get.

There is also one outsider book and author, came to me in an unusual way, and I had no expectations, which it exceeded. (That was fun to write.)
Straight Man - by Richard Russo (1997)
"This particular group of students, like so many these days, seems divided, unequally, between the vocal clueless and the quietly pensive. Somehow...[the quiet ones]...have concluded that what's most important in all educational settings is to avoid the ridicule of the less gifted." Then there's more! This is actually a book that is as funny as it is acute. All I'm saying is: worth the bother if it comes to you.

By some (interesting) categories my 74 works of fiction read in 2010 broke down this way:
4 zombies
1 vampire
1 android
1 manga
4 graphic
3 classics (if you include Agatha Christie and Android Karenina, which I do)
3 Swedish books by 2 writers
10 Canadian books by 7 writers
NB some books hit 2 or more categories


Non-Fiction: Only 5 books read this year, 4 of them are favourites! Way to choose books!


Vendetta: High Art and Low Cunning at the Birth of the Renaissance  - by Hugh Bichino (2009)  This is a quirky book about a confusing time, but highly localized to where I spend my summers in Italy. I love this one so much, I left it there, but need to buy a second copy to have here as a reference, too.


Natasha's Dance -  by Orlando Figes (2003)
Again/still. Will I always be reading this? I had it out of the library so long I decided I better buy it. There is always something going on in culture that takes me back to it, like the current Tolstoy controversy in Russia. Once I stick my nose in it, I can't get it out again.


 Man's Search for Meaning - by Victor Frankl (1949, 1956 in English)
Yes! The search for meaning is what makes a good life, not for pleasure (Freud's idea) nor power (Adler's idea). I like this Frankl guy.


Your Brain on Music - by Daniel Leviton (2006)
subtitled: The Science of a Human Obsession. Hello! Thinking about music has been taking up my some of my reading time this year and the obsession is only growing.



 The marigold wonders nervously: Should I list some also rans? No, the list would be too long, because I really enjoyed almost all the books I read this year. This is just the top of the top. Full list available if you look me up as Souci on LibraryThing, and check my tag "2010". Should I list my big disappointments? Nah! Why give them any more time and attention? Should I mention my favourite songs of the year? Favourite games? Movies? Hmmm...maybe separately.

PS Something funny - as I write this I am eating a sandwich of liverwurst and pickles, I craving and habit I picked up from the Steig Larsson books, the first of which was on my list last year, and two of which I read with great pleasure this year.

Embedding Video: Your Ghost by Kristen Hersh

So...my 8-year old suggested we figure out how to embed YouTube videos in a blog, rather than just using a link, as I have always done. It is so easy! And then right away I find I have to use it, and I have something to show you. Back story:

I was (finally) reading the October LibraryThing: State of the Thing newsletter, and there was an author interview with Kristen Hersh, who is a musician, and who has also recently released a book called Rat Girl based on her diary from when she was 18. That alone wasn't really enough to move me to check the music, but when I saw her thoughts on her music being based on ambient noise, I had to go there. This is what I read: You mentioned recently that the songs seem to be based on ambient noise. Has knowing that changed the magic of the songs, that they are based on real sounds and not the whispered words angels and demons? Like, "Oh, that's just the heat register kicking in."  (You can read the rest of the interview there, too.)

Now, I am having a music moment these days. I want to figure out music, especially sad music. I am trying to prepare for a music theory exam (my first ever). I have started a correspondence with my uncle, a professional bluegrass musician. I am analyzing pop songs with my piano teacher (like Mad World, Love the Way You Lie, U Smile - there are some musical things out there). And so on. Also germane is that one of my all-time favourite cds is Sheila Chandra's Moonsung: A Real World Retrospective from 1999. I keep it near Brian Eno in my collection, and I listen to it whenever I am recovering from anesthetic (happens more often than you might think). It is drone-ish music, based on ambient noise. I think of it when I am in a strange bedroom hearing a different pattern of night sounds (like heat registers and traffic) and try to make music out of my irritation. I also love Arvo Pärt, and have written about him before, because of the sadness, and the drone-ishness, and the modal aspect of his music (link is to Wikipedia if you are interested - it's not perfect, but it's a start). It all kind of goes together.

So...I had to check out Kristen Hersh on YouTube. I love the 'Shock of the New' (I love Robert Hughes, too). I LIVE FOR the shock of the new. And I LOVE the sound of this woman's music. It is odd. It is sad. It is beautiful. It defies easy analysis. Her other songs are cool too. Sundrops is even odder - and to watch her play it live makes me think she composed it physically rather than sonically. Is that possible?

Tell me what you think, please.

The marigold wonders nervously about all the brackets. The marigold LOVES brackets. And all-caps. And irony. Does it give the effect of animated conversation, or is it all a bit too much? And should I even care?

Library Thing Early Review

 
The Rehearsal
by Eleanor Catton

I saved this for summer beach reading. I heard it was really fun. A reading buddy of mine offered to share her (signed) copy, but I already had this one to take away. It almost seemed a shame to wait, but it turned out to be perfect for summer.

It is engaging and eyebrow-raising, without being challenging. The narrative is original, with a number of convincing voices. It's quite interesting to see the taboo treated as something ordinary that just happens, that it changes everything but not the essential character of life.

The story concerns the aftermath of an affair revealed between a senior student and a male teacher in a private girls' school. I have an unusually good view into life in girls' schools, and I just loved the not-politically-correct tone of the book. It struck me as nuanced and accurate rather than stereotypical and formulized for instruction (which feels rare, especially for this kind of loaded topic, set in a girls' school environment, let me tell you).

Catton also managed to write in a post-modern, that is to say non-linear, fashion that felt fresh. It did add a level of challenge to the book that I also found extremely compelling. It's just not that often that you need to scroll around in a book to re-orient yourself because the points of view are dizzying.

In a world where there are a lot a lot a lot of fabulous first books (not to mention first singles, first films etc), you have to wonder if the writer will be able to stay interesting. Here's hoping.

LibraryThing Early Review

You Comma Idiot
by Doug Harris

Received. Looks funny.

Is funny. One funny cool thing is that the publicity person responsible for sending out review copies is already a person whose judgment I trust in choosing the funny: Corey Redekopp, author of Shelf Monkey, one of my all-time favourite book-books (and one of this year's Canada Reads Top 40! Yeah!)

This book manages to be funny and Canadian-local, without being parochial and I'm-Canadian-look-at-me. It reminds me of the experience of reading Michael Chabon - I feel an absolute homegrown sense of the accurate ear of the writer. I am not a Montreal small-time drug-dealer/loser (shocker, I know, right?) but as a Canadian adult I find the characters and dialogue totally believable.

I also really love the take on the narrative voice. I seem to mention that a lot in my reviews. It must be hard for a writer to come up with (and therefore hard for a reader to run into) a fresh style of narrative voice. There are already a lot of good books in the world, after all. Although the device chosen by Harris has been used before (rarely), this is one great new version. It is...well...I guess it has to be called an interior monologue. Harold Bloom (one of my reading heroes) cites Hamlet as the first character given an interior monologue, and it is the paradigm. Hamlet wonders aloud, abstractly.."Is it...?" Harris has his character Lee address himself as "you" as in "You are running down the street..." The reader is not watching the character talk to himself - the reader is inside the conversation, he is an interlocutor with himself, the character. Cool.

I have no way of judging if little Canadian books become successful and I don't have much time to devote to checking whether they receive good critical notices. However, I can rave as Souci on LibraryThing, and The Nervous Marigold. I can tell my reading buddies, and I can lend my copy around to the worthy.

This is a super book, and it is satisfying to know that there are new Canadian writers that are outside the canon (for now), outside the political-book complex, just writing good books that READERS ENJOY!

The marigold wonders nervously if it would be overstating it to mention the indecisive loser-ishness of Hamlet being a germane reference in You Comma Idiot, or if that is perhaps reaching a bit too far.