Music for March: Opera, Kids & More

Even though we’ve had hiatus from “Classics in the Cohan,” March was a busy month for many musicians in the SLO Symphony. Some of us were doing the PCPA recording of Les Miserables; some played for the Pacific Repertory Opera’s production of Madama Butterfly, and almost everyone did the Children’s Concerts. I did two out of three and can’t fathom how those who did all three kept their sanity. I would have been lost without my Two Fat Ladies DVDs from Netflix. Why is watching full-figured British matrons cook pigeons wrapped in streaky bacon so comforting after a long day? Mysteries.

Anyway, I’ve been neglecting the blog, so here’s an update.

I’d been looking forward to playing Madama Butterfly for some time, and it didn’t disappoint. PRO’s new Artistic Director, Robert Ashens, is… wait for it… a real pro (ba-dum-bum). He knew the score like he’d written it himself; he was clear about cues and musicality, and he displayed great skill and encouragement in leading us through an intricate score. I thought Grace Seng’s sensitively played violin solos perfectly captured the pathos of the story. Plus, it was nice to see the performances so well attended. I hear the Youth Symphony was given a discount, and judging by the glowing faces of my viola student and his mother at intermission, that was a good idea.

Whenever I do the opera, I think about how professional opera orchestra musicians are some of the highest paid. There’s a reason for that: it’s hard work! Opera pushes one’s limits of concentration and endurance, and Madama Butterfly is no exception. It’s almost three hours of almost constant playing (no recitatives for breaks). Tempos and style change abruptly, and the tempos are, well, flexible is too mild a term. Put a fermata on every other note, and watch the conductor like he’s your last chance to escape the fires of hell. Certain parts, like when Cio-Cio-San is being disowned, or when Pinkerton returns – the orchestra parts are like warfare – fast tempos, odd phrasings, tricky counting, abrupt dynamic shifts. Act I is almost an hour. Then after a break, you play Act II (just 48 minutes). Then a break, and Act III (a concise 30 minutes). Then it’s almost the witching hour, and you drive home, dodging the odd vampire.

The experience reminded of this video of by my favorite singer/songwriter, Rufus Wainwright. The song is called “April Fools,” and it features him cavorting around LA with famous opera heroines who all meet bad ends. See how many you can identify. (Sorry, we can't "embed" this one in the blog, but click the link and you're there!)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y5InMvddwyk

OK, I have to get this off my chest: if I ever meet the copyist for the viola part, I’ll give that sadist a piece of my mind. Our part had the worst page turns in the history of page turns. Something really important at the bottom of the page, one measure rest, then… something else really important right after that! Often, a soli part! We actually had to plan and practice page turns. I even tried memorizing some (with limited success). We worked it out, though. We did our thing. We made it our own. There was some pitchiness, but, Dawg! It was the bomb! We’re going to the finals! (I’ve been watching too much American Idol.)

Despite some challenges, playing for PRO is always such a great experience. It’s almost like chamber music (if chamber music had sopranos belting high E flats before dying in a pool of pathos), but more than that, it’s inspiring that (especially in these times) our relatively small community can put on (mostly) home-grown opera performances. For me, the best part comes when it’s all done: watching the singers take their bows, being brought flowers, in their wild costumes and crazy stage makeup, and contemplating this amazing feat we’ve all just accomplished. What a remarkable thing to do in the world.

I did a bit of research on Puccini and was surprised to learn that after writing Madama Butterfly, he wrote a sort of prequel to it, about Cio-Cio-San’s childhood and early life before Pinkerton came along. It was called Madama Caterpillar.

Here’s a little (good) opera-related humor. First you’ll need to watch this video of Australian pop diva Kylie Minogue singing her 90s hit “Lucky.” Not mandatory to watch the whole thing. In fact, don’t -- unless you like bubblegum-pop -- but it’s set up for the video that follows.



Here’s the main course: the British comedy duo of Dawn French and Jennifer Saunders (plus opera star Sarah Walker and conductor Carl Davis) with their send-up of opera and opera divas.

Here’s the short version:



And here’s the full version:



Next were the Children’s Concerts, March 30th. It was great to play concerts for kids programmed with “real” music. In my opinion, classical music can be presented to young people in an accessible, meaningful, not-dumbed-down way, and these shows did that beautifully. As in, Copland wrote dance music, so why not have dancers? Disney did a smart visualization of Beethoven, so show it. Vivaldi wrote program music, so read the poems he based his concerti on. And please (as Mike did) explain why the viola player sounds like a dog.

Who would have thought when I joined the orchestra that one day I’d be impersonating a dog? Still, fun -- sort of like going to a costume party: slightly embarrassing, but fun because also embarrassing. And it was worth it to play the faithful companion of Brynn Albanese. I adored her passionate interpretation of “Spring.” The kids did too. As Mike said at rehearsal, Brynn plays this stuff for breakfast. Before she burns some rubber, that is:



For me, another highlight of the program was Britten’s Young Person’s Guide to the Orchestra. My favorite variation is the bass one – it reminds me of the frolicking hippos from Fantasia. Much better than the viola variation. Regardless of how well one plays ours, to me it brings to mind someone with intestinal distress hoping the Pepto-Bismol will kick in.

I enjoyed Sue Blue’s narration – I’m sure it helped introduce the kids to the sounds they were about to hear, and she’s a wizard with voices.

On to Beethoven and Barber! (Click here for details - May 2nd at the PAC - don't miss it!)

Best, DH

PS: An opera-related viola joke:
A violist and a soprano jump out of a burning building at the same time. Who hits the ground first?

The violist. The soprano stops midway to take a bow.