Tuesday, 31 August 2010

Francis Alys: A Story of Deception

On Friday night Andrew and I wandered down to the Tate Modern to enjoy an art exhibition that has been curated by a friend of ours. Neither of us new what to expect, but knowing it was the Tate we were preparing for anything and very excited about it! Over two hours later we left the exhibition fully aware that we had just experienced something rather breath-taking.

I don't want to go into a large description of the art because I do not think I will do it justice. When it comes to visual art, I feel I'm a little bit like someone who goes to listen to a Miles Davis concert but has only ever heard Louis Armstrong's version of jazz trumpet playing! I understand that I'm experiencing something very special and that I'm observing someone of remarkable talent, but I don't quite know why.

Francis Alys creates art that isn't always on the page (literally). He has his paintings, which are intricate and very very beautiful, and then he has what I will call experiences: projects which have involved him doing something a little out of the ordinary which might make us think a little bit more about the world around us (which is what Art is about, some would say.....). For example, pushing a large block of ice around Mexico City until it has melted aptly subtitled 'Sometimes Doing Something Leads to Nothing. These projects are presented as visual recordings.

The experience that I most related to was a visual interpretation of a music rehearsal. A red VW beetle makes its way up a pretty steep hill, but it's progress up this hill is stilted by a recording of a rehearsal that he is listening to. Every time the band paused during the rehearsal, the driver stepped off the acceleration pedal so that the car would roll back down the hill. I felt I was watching a visual interpretation of my emotions as I sit at rehearsal, feeling like I'm almost reaching the end of the piece only to have to start and stop again because it wasn't quite right yet. It was truly amazing to see something I have felt be interpreted by another person in such a visual way. I have often felt this way when it comes to a musical experience, but never before has it quite hit me when observing art.

I will not go into any more detail about the exhibition simply because even as I write these few descriptions I'm aware that I'm not getting across what I saw and felt in quite the right way.
Sometimes we are exposed to something so far out of our realm of understanding that it suddenly opens up a whole new world to us. This is how I feel about this exhibition. It was marvellously special for me.

Wednesday, 18 August 2010

St John Passion, Arvo Part

Another evening at the Proms for me! But this time it was a late night prom and also included a delicious steak meal with my husband beforehand. For me, it was the perfect date, but for many others I'm sure they would have been left wanting a bit more.

Why? Well, Arvo Part is a minimalist composer, which means he composes a style of music that many people can find very repetitive (and sometimes boring!!) to listen to. The general idea behind a minimalist composition is to repeat an idea for a long period of time with only occassional and often very subtle changes in the arrangement of the music. The beauty of this is that you can become mesmerized by a sea of continuous sound until something new happens that is so unexpected it jumps to your attention with intense clarity and focus. This piece of music uses a style developed by Part called tintinnabuli (Latin: bells) where each part in the music moves at the same rhythmic pace and the harmony is developed using a triad (three notes played at the same time). Like Modern Jazz, I think it is a style of music that one needs to understand quite well before it can be properly appreciated.


The St John Passion was written in 1982 and is a setting of John 18 and 19 which tells of Jesus' trial and crucifiction. It is a setting that has been arranged by numerous composers over the years and that is retold in most orthodox churches every Good Friday. It is a sombre reminder of what Jesus endured for the salvation of mankind and a fundamental basis of Christian faith. The text of Part's passion is in Latin and the programme contained an English translation for listeners to follow. This was invaluable for me because I don't know Part's Passion at all and the text helped me to follow the musical arrangement and anticipate some of the compositional techniques in the piece.


The singing was extraodinary. Having sung Part, I know the intense concentration required of his music. You can easily be intoning one note for an extreme length of time and then need to jump to a new note pitched an awkward interval away. These singers managed to maintain their concentration for seventy minutes with no interval!! (Both them and the people who stood in the promenade for the entirety of the piece deserve an award!) Most beautiful for me was the blend of the quartet who sang the narrator's part. The sound was pure and sparse most certainly imitating the sound of bells that I imagine Part was aiming to achieve. As well as the narrators, there was Pilate (Andrew Kennedy), Jesus (Brindley Sherratt) and the chorus (performed by the BBC singers). The singing was accompanied by a quartet: violin, cello, flute and bassoon.


I'm always amazed by an entire room full of people (And the Albert Hall is a big room, although not too full for this concert) all paying attention to one product. It can create such a beautiful atmosphere of solidarity. After seventy minutes of listening to music that moves slowly, never rushing the words of the Gospel, and using harmony in the way a cook would use vanilla essence when baking a cake, it was no surprise that when the conductor finally lowered his baton there was a full minute or two of silence reverberating around the majestic hall before the audience broke into applause.


It was a brilliant concert.


Sunday, 15 August 2010

Edges, Camden Fringe


My husband (Andrew) was invited along to watch an amateur production of this show because one of his friends was performing in it. I went along because I was curious about the standard of amateur theatre production in London.

Edges is a song cycle. Now, this is not really a term used in musical theatre and is usually associated with classical singing. It's technical term is a collection of songs written by one composer and usually one poet that are linked together by a familiar theme. Schubert wrote one called "Die Schone Mullerin" which is all about a man who falls in love with the miller's daughter. The relationship between the piano and melody is usually one of extreme importance as the accompaniment is there to set the scene or the mood of the song. Most song cycles are performed by one singer who does include choreographed moves or staging in his or her performance.

Edges is not typical of the song cycle genre for a few reasons. There are four singers, and the songs consist of quartets, duets and solos. This director also included acting and dancing. (I'm not sure if all shows do that, I'm sure it's purely up to the director's discretion). There is also not much interplay between the piano accompaniment and the singing. I was a bit disappointed by this simply because I felt most of the piano accompaniment was the same with each song and it got a little bit boring hearing the same four beat riff for a large proportion of the show.

The song cycle was written by Benj Pasek and Justin Paul when they were still studying at university and were unhappy with the roles they were given in their musical theatre course. Bearing in mind that this is an early work of theirs, it is really very good. The songs all centre around the issues that people in their early twenties (and later) deal with, such as friendship, falling in and out of love, hopes and dreams and commitment. My favourite song was "Boy with dreams" which happened to be sung by Andrew's collegue. It was sung with utter sincerity and was simply about a guy who delivers pizza for living and wishes and hopes to be doing much more with his life. Probably the most popular song in the show is called "Be my friend" which is all about the intricacies of Facebook Friends (It's on You Tube and is quite funny if you are interested in hearing it).

The venue was upstairs in a pub. It was one large room painted black, which meant that the audience and the singers were exceptionally close to each other and there was very little space for any ambitious staging. The director handled this well with only chairs as props and not too much moving around. When chatting about it after the show we found out that they had only had an hour and a half of rehearsal in their venue, which included placing the pianist and drummer as well as setting up the lighting! I imagine even professional actors would struggle to cope with that!

The nice thing about Fringe Theatre is being introduced to less familiar musical items. If I was working with an older age group I would definitely consider using this musical. It's full of fun, easy to relate to, and not too demanding in terms of its staging or orchestration. Amateur theatre is clearly alive and well in London and I'm curious to see and possibly participate in more!


Friday, 13 August 2010

BBC Proms, Berlioz, Chopin, Roussel, Ravel

From Tap Dogs to the BBC proms!!

The only thing that these two events have in common is that I was unable to see the entire stage at both shows! The difference being that the Royal Albert Hall had warned me beforehand and these were the only seats available to me when I had booked them a week ago. Clearly I need to think a little bit more ahead when it comes to booking seats for concerts.

"Why not Prom?" I hear some of you wonder, and my answer is simply because I didn't think I would be able to stand through a Chopin Piano Concerto and fully appreciate it. I felt I would enjoy it more seated.

The evening consisted of:

  • Berlioz: Overture 'Le Corsaire'
  • Chopin: Piano Concerto No. 2, piano played by Nelson Freire
  • Roussel: Symphony No. 3
  • Ravel: Daphnis and Chloe - Suite No. 2

The BBC orchestra were conducted by Lionel Bringuier.

I chose this concert because I was going with a friend who loves classical music to the point where she doesn't want to hear the usual run of the mill classic FM broadcast list, but she's not quite ready for the weird and wonderful world of Twentieth Century classical music either. In those terms the concert did not dissapoint. Most Late Romantic French music is easy on the ears and it's not everyday that we find ourselves listening to Roussel (I hadn't heard of him before the concert). Personally, I was looking forward to hearing the piano concerto and seeing an excellent pianist in action.

The concert was beautifully structured. Berlioz welcomed us with brilliance and charm in only the way the Berlioz's full orchestration can do. For some reason I always have the caricature of a large orchestra squeezed onto a tiny stage when I think of Berlioz and I don't know why! (Possibly an image from a history of music textbook?) He never dissappoints when it comes to lots of brass and woodwind sounds and this rich and sonorous sound was the perfect prelude to Chopin's more sensitive touch.

The Chopin was elegant and whimsical and played with amazing virtuousity by Nelson Freire. It seems strange to call the music elegant and whimsical when there were sections when Mr Freire was running his fingers up and down the piano with such speed and dexterity. I think Chopin just knows how to make a lot of notes sound classy and tasteful rather than just an exercise in technical virtuosity. The soloist played an exquisite encore, which I'm assuming was a Chopin Nocturne. As I've played a few nocturnes myself I understood how difficult it is to create an even accompaniment that frequently spans both the left and bottom fingers of the right hand whilst still maintaining a melody with the top three fingers of the right hand too! It was amazing to listen to and to watch him manage that with such ease. What an inspiration!

The Piano concerto consisted of the standard three movements with no break between the second and third. Although I couldn't see most of the orchestra I could observe the conductor and the pianist and I really enjoyed watching their interaction with each other. In my mind Chopin's 2nd piano concerto gave me exactly what I was expecting, a bold first movement balanced by a slower, melodious second movement, and then ending with a light and fast third movement.

I needed to google Roussel to find out a bit more about him. He's French (I didn't need to google that part) and was active between the world wars. His inspiration was the impressionist composers and then he moved on to write in the neo-classical style. I thoroughly enjoyed the symphony. In fact I think I may have enjoyed it more than the Chopin. To my mind it was rather Romantic and if I hadn't had googled him I would have placed him in the same era as Berlioz. The melodies are not avant garde, the orchestration is exciting and adventurous and the form doesn't introduce any suprises. Perhaps this is why I never studied him in my music history classes, but was able to enjoy a first hearing of his symphony with such ease.

Finally came the beautiful sunrise of Daphne and Chloe. I am very familiar with the opening of this work as it is a brilliant example of Programme Music. When encouraging students to create music that evokes an image, what better example than the amazing minute or two at the beginning of this piece? Well, what a pleasure to sit and listen to the entire suite and not have to turn it off once the sun has risen!

The best part of this piece for me was the orchestration. There is a beautiful flute solo at one point that was played with such delicacy and gentleness. Then there is another section where the percussion suddenly introduces itself. It was at this point that I wished I could have seen what they were doing because I just couldn't figure out what the instrumental combination was. It was such a contrast to the slow and melodic solo flute section.

I'm always glad to go to the BBC Proms. It is two months of excessive music to appreciate in an awesome venue and it seems to appeal to all sorts of taste. When I think of the quality of performers and then look at the affordability of the tickets I just feel so grateful to have access to the event. This concert did not disappoint me in the least and I look forward to my next evening at the Royal Albert Hall.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/proms/2010/

Tap Dogs, London

Tesday was girls night out and what could be more appropriate than going to see six men try to make tap dancing into a macho activity!
We had bought very cheap tickets, so we had limited visibility and were unable to enjoy the opening scene and a scene where one of the dancers dances on the ceiling. We couldn't see the band, either. I do feel directors don't always take that into consideration when planning out shows, but it didn't detract too much from the entertainment, and we knew not to expect much from seats that only cost ten pounds!
The dancing was lovely. The overall vibe they were going for was to ooze sex appeal and I think that all the girls who were there would agree that they achieved that. Sometimes, I felt that they were trying too hard to create a macho atmosphere. In fact I could just imagine the producers and directors sitting around a table brainstorming "macho" and then incorporating all their ideas into the show and re-iterating the fact just before each show starts.
Musically, the intriguing thing for me was the creation of rhythm using tap shoes. My favourite example of this was a copy cat effect created in a duet. One dancer (Adam Garcia) created a rhythm using his feet and the other imitated it. The rhythms became progressively more intricate and then turned into canon with the "copycat" being a few beats behind the leader. It was wonderful and has inspired me to try and re-create that idea in some of the rhythm lessons that I teach. Part of me wondered how much of the tapping sound we were hearing was in fact "live" and how much wasn't and this was highlighted to me in a scene that involved "synthsized tapping". Each dancer was allocated a sound that one would hear in a drum sequence (For example, bass drum, snare, cow bell) . When the dancer's foot hit a square block, we would hear their allocated sound. The overall effect was brilliant, full of humour, and an excellent example of ensemble work, but clearly achieved with a lot of help from their band.
I have a bit of an issue with shows that try to popularize art forms. I feel that these types of shows can make light of the extreme hard work and discipline that goes into the arts, especially the more classical art forms. I understand that they are reaching out to a wider audience, and in this case making dance look a little less feminine (although the audience was predominantly female and I certainly wouldn't have invited my husband along, so I'm quite certain their target audience was a female one). I think that the show would have been amazing without the gimmicks (such as gum boot dancing in a puddle of water or dancing whilst the blade of an electric saw is creating fiery visual effects). Yes, they were entertaining, but they were far from the highlight of the show for me.
This show was a great example of light entertainment and a good giggle with the girls. As long as we don't start taking the discpline involved in being a top class dancer for granted, then these types of shows are well worth having around.

http://www.tapdogs.co.uk/