From the clamorous applause before the downbeat on Thursday evening’s Turtle Island Quartet performance at Sheslow Auditorium in Des Moines, it is clear that Civic Music Association‘s programming has been missed over the summer intermission. The audience was evidently overjoyed to welcome Turtle Island Quartet, back for their fourth performance for the organization, and their collaborator Cyrus Chestnut to the stage. Their “Jelly, Rags, & Monk” project lead the audience on a historical odyssey from the early roots of jazz to such true American originality as found in Thelonious Monk.
When Cyrus Chestnut took to the stage, his fingers soft-shoed across the keys in such a manner that he may have fooled the audience into thinking he was simply trying out a collection of notes rather than reeling them in slowly to his bewitching artistry with his performance of “It Could Happen to You.” Part of the beguiling nature of Chestnut’s playing was the lack of aggression throughout. It wasn’t that he eschewed dissonance, percussive sounds, or angular solos like those inherent in the Monk tunes, but that he made the dissonances graceful and welcome. Chestnut’s skills at the keyboard avoided the temptation of affectation; and yet, he gave each piece the most verve – each expressive turn elicited a smile when his sound emerged from the overall texture.
That graceful sound was mirrored expertly in the playing of each member of the Turtle Island Quartet. By the end of the concert, the quartet’s tempos and stylistic choices were the most vigorous and rousing of the evening. During the take on Jelly Roll Morton’s “Turtle Twist”, David Balakrishnan, who also doubles as the group’s fine “resident composer”, captured that early 1900s sound by transforming his violin into a swinging clarinet sound. Mark Summer‘s percussive techniques on the cello were more resonant and driving while Mateusz Smoczynski (violin) and Benjamin von Gutzeit (viola) explored more provocative sounds in their improvisations. This enhanced expressivity was pleasing, to this taste, because earlier parts of the program had an oddly uniform sense of tempo and coloring despite the diversity of compositions.
Scanning around Thursday’s audience there were heads bobbing and toes tapping in time and appreciation of Cyrus Chestnut and Turtle Island Quartet. Their slick tone quality and earnest ensemble interaction fashioned them into gentle and caring guides through this clever program. It leaves no wonder why they are welcomed back to Des Moines with such ready applause.
“But if musical identity is, then, always fantastic, idealizing not just oneself but also the social world one inhabits, it is, secondly, always also real, enacted in musical activities. Music making and music listening, that is to say, are bodily matters; involve what one might call social movements. In this respect, musical pleasure is not derived from fantasy – it is not mediated by dreams – but is experienced directly: music gives us a real experience of what the ideal could be.” – Simon Frith
This week’s #musochat topic: Identity in New Music
We use music, specifically new music, to shape our individual identities and help us belong to a communal identity. For my turn as #musochat host on Sunday, August 23rd at 9PM EST/8PM Central, the questions will revolve around that topic in concept, practice, and development. (Click to tweet) “Music is neither ‘simply a social and political category’ nor ‘a vague and utterly contingent construction’ but ‘remains the outcome of practical activity: language, gesture, bodily significations, desires.’”¹ I cannot wait to read your thoughts. I hope you will join me.
Some ground rules:
(In July, J.M. Gerraughty posted guidelines for the #musochat. I have also provided them here.)
- If you’re responding to a specific question (i.e. — Q1), indicate it in your answer (i.e. — A1). It’s even more helpful to keep your hashtag and answer indication close together (i.e. – A1 #musochat or #musochat A1.)
- I’ve pre-scheduled all the whole number questions (Q1, Q2, etc.), but if I find an interesting subject to follow-up on, I’ll insert decimal questions as necessary (Q1.1, Q1.2, etc.)
- As host, I won’t be answering questions unless asked directly — I’ll be concentrating on hosting and keeping conversation flowing.
- You are not obliged to answer any questions. Hell, you can just lurk the entire time and not say anything!
- If you do want to participate, make sure that you put #musochat into your tweet, so we can all see it.
- Keep your language civil. Disagreement is okay, flaming is not!
- Q n’ A will last for about an hour, but conversation can go as long as people are willing to talk.
“Becoming what one is is a creative act comparable with creating a work of art.” – Anthony Storr
Let me know if you have any questions. In fact, let me know if you’re going to be there by tweeting right now – all you have to do is click!
Last week, Megan Ihnen, Shaya Lyon, Hillary LaBonte, Gahlord Dewald, Garrett Schumann and I (J.M. Gerraughty) started up what we’re hoping will become a weekly (or maybe bi-weekly) #musochat on Twitter.
Join us for the next one, this Sunday (July 26) at 9pm, EST.
This week’s topic: Entrepreneurialism in Music
Description: We’ve all read blogs, seen interviews, and otherwise had it pounded into our heads that the key to success in the current classical music landscape is “entrepreneurialism.” Unfortunately, this word tends to mean a lot of different things to a lot of people. This week, we discuss what entrepreneurialism means for us, and find ways in which we can integrate entrepreneurial strategies into our current career paths.
To join in, just go to Twitter and search for#musochat (or just click that link), and join in. I’ll be asking questions to the group periodically, but these are meant to stoke open conversation.
Hope to see you there!
Got any questions or topics that you’d like us to cover in the future? Want to be a moderator for #musochat? Comment below or tweet us on Sunday!
Vladimir Feltsman plays the piano with a sure sense of will. He approaches the instrument without a moment’s hesitation and his fingers greet the keys as the contours of a known love. He reassures the audience with each passage that he is the arbiter of the night’s sounds. His interpretation is clear and clearly his own — born from thoughtful consideration and practice.
Konrad Fiedler for The New York Times
Feltsman performed an exquisite evening of piano favorites for a welcoming Civic Music Association audience in Des Moines on Friday night at Sheslow Auditorium on the Drake University campus. The program featuring Schumann’s Kinderszenen, Op. 15 and Faschingsswank aus Wien, Op. 26 before intermission and followed by Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition, was a perfect vehicle to demonstrate Feltsman’s interpretive command.
The candor of Feltsman’s playing was captivating; particularly when he used it as a pretext to subvert the ear before the following phrase.The return of the Promenade theme in Pictures at an Exhibition was a glimpse through a kaleidoscope of interpretive nuance from the initial clarion declamation to the wistful Tranquillo. The straightforwardness was often a necessary easing from the onslaught of sound that he commanded from the keys. This program was rife with moments wherein he absolutely turned the piano out with sound. For example, The Great Gate of Kiev, the final moments of the Mussorgsky, was a glorious array of sound that gave the impression he had an entire festival orchestra under his fingertips. In fact, triumphant might be too soft of a descriptor in this case.
It is important to note that part of the brilliance in Feltsman’s playing is the realization that he eschews exact purity and over-refinement. This is not a question of his technique but rather lauding his ability to still capture that element of humanness in his playing. His phrasing never strays into the sterile, or conversely, into overt sentimentality. Feltsman brought this ability to fore in the two Schumann works and with his stirring encore, the Liszt Liebesträume No.3. Nothing in this program had the feeling of being slow. So, when he seemed to relax into the sound of a single chord it became even more satisfying to the ear of the audience. This was felt most in his poignant renderings of the Op. 15 Träumerei and Der Dichter spricht.
Vladimir Feltsman is commanding as a performer even when he elicits his most tranquil sounds from the piano. While I wouldn’t recount his playing as being gentle, his assured sense of sound and resonance of the instrument are nevertheless alluring. Which brings to mind: not every recital is the same. Not every musician playing the piano repertoire we, as audiences, love is the same. That isn’t always as clear as perhaps it should be; however, it is sublime when it is.
“Coming late is better than leaving in the middle” the girl behind me trills to her friend as she hurries to the restroom before the show. Another of the cohort slyly asks, “is that one of the tips?…” The girls cackle and I think to myself, “I hope this is an indication of a lively and fun Sunday audience.” Neither the audience nor the actors let me down. Although a rainstorm drenched most of the patrons before the opening lines of the Matt Murphy and Shawn Nightingale play “Sex Tips for Straight Women from a Gay Man” at the Temple Theater in Des Moines, IA, one cannot be sure if the audience was more moist at the beginning or the end of the show. Nevertheless, they definitely left the theater a happier lot.
Watching this production in Iowa, where attitudes about discussing sex often run the gamut from tame to prude, may actually be more entertaining than attending in a bigger market. Having a group of people who are practically giddy at the mention of a few rebelliously risqué topics is an improv actor’s dream in a show that relies so heavily on audience participation. Throw in a few regional-specific jokes or gags, as director Tim Drucker and the cast do, and you’ve got this audience rolling in the aisles.
What makes this production so effective is the pacing. Sam Tebaldi as Robyn, the mousy, nervous academic called in to lead the book discussion at the last-minute, purposefully adds a catalogue of little physical tics to underscore her character. Furthermore, these hesitations help balance the rapid pace at which Grant MacDermott as Dan beguiles and provokes the audience. MacDermott, as the Gay BFF author and pied piper of the undersexed, is responsible for the lion’s share of the improv and does it with aplomb (even keeping the thread when an ambitious audience member responded to a cat joke with, “I’d like to hear more about your…” well, nevermind, better left for the stage.) Rounding out the speed-settings of this show is the hunk-of-all-trades Mat Leonard who incrementally ratchets up the tension between his character Stefan and Robyn. In addition to the romantic gestures, Leonard’s physical comedy gives both Tebaldi and MacDermott moments to catch their breath before the tempo of the asides spin out of control.
While “Sex Tips for Straight Women from a Gay Man” flies by with a laugh per minute, it also tucks a nice moral into the mix. Amid the phallic and playfully erotic, there is a suggestion that may eventually make it into those ‘Iowa Nice’ conversations that “having better sex isn’t just about having better sex.”
While each composer on Saturday night’s Des Moines Symphony program, John Adams, Antonín Dvořák, and Jean Sibelius, composed works shaped by political, national, and philosophical ideas, there was an unmistakable but far more intangible feeling attached to each piece. Under the guidance of Maestro Joseph Giunta and with the help of guest soloist Joshua Roman, the Des Moines Symphony endeavored toward the ideals of charisma and enchantment. Lush string playing and a captivating sense of sonic balance ruled the evening at the Civic Center of Greater Des Moines in this penultimate concert of the season.
Cellist Joshua Roman | Photo by Jeremy Sawatzky
Cellist Joshua Roman returned for his second performance with the Des Moines Symphony, his first was in 2012, to play “Iowa’s favorite musical guest” Antonín Dvořák’s glorious Cello Concerto in B Minor, Op. 104. A new music triple threat: cellist, composer, and Seattle’s Town Music Artistic Director, Roman is a delight to both watch and hear. In a blue-green velvet jacket (what singer worth her salt wouldn’t notice?), Roman commanded the stage and produced a self-assured sound from his very entrance in the Allegro. Beginning with the entrance of the second subject, Roman exploited the many instances to demonstrate his genteel legato. This overall character of Roman’s playing did not abate in the second movement Adagio ma non troppo which includes a recalling of the “Leave me alone” from the Vier Lieder, Op. 82. It was in this moment within the second movement that Roman displayed his most captivating soloistic playing.
The musicians of the Des Moines Symphony met Roman in this task. The stirring horn solo in the first movement played by principal Bret Seebeck did not go unnoticed which Gregory Oakes, clarinet, gracefully transported like a baton in a foot race. One of the most exciting aural elements of the evening was the exercising of balance between sections and soloists. What could have been a question of balance became clearer as a specific motivation to bring the sound of the cello solo from subtly noticeable to the forefront of the musical texture. This was particularly noticeable in the pas de deux incidences between Roman and flutist Kayla Burggraf; and furthermore, as the string sections really opened up to their most expressive playing which was confidently lead by concertmaster Jonathan Sturm.
It was primarily this type of blossoming sound in the strings that characterized all three pieces on the program. Each provided opportunities for the string sections to soar although they employ incredibly distinct sound worlds. While the Dvořák acts as the golden mean, Adams’ The Chairman Dances (Foxtrot for Orchestra) presents an immediacy of musical ideas contrasted with a vast weaving of inspirations in Jean Sibelius’ Symphony No. 2 in D Major, Op. 43. The Symphony percussionists seemed to take particular delight in playing the subversive rhythmic elements of the Adams but that delight did not seem to transfer to all of the sections of the orchestra. The enchantment unfurled in the sweeping violin lines which was also the case in the Sibelius. Even past the two-hour mark of the concert, the instrumentalists still filled the hall with the galvanizing and triumphant lines of the Finale.
If these pieces are showing the audience how politics and music combine, they are outlining the motivations from psychological connections rather than the actual social concerns themselves. The soaring and lush playing in the strings was the silk cord to the romance of devotion rather than an overzealous waving of any particular flag.