Mozart's G minor Symphony is about shocks and surprises, but there was a night in October 1973 when the unexpected caused Mozart to be temporarily silenced.
On the evening of the first lecture created by Bernstein for the Charles Eliot Norton series in 1973, a complete performance of the G minor symphony was to be filmed in performance at the Harvard Square Theater to cap the event.
Midway through the first movement the performance was stopped and the hall needed to be evacuated. Bernstein explains what happened in the WGBH studio the next morning where the lecture was recreated for videotape:
"During that wait," said Bernstein [0:42], "I must say I was sick at heart, and overcome by despair." But when the audience returned and the work resumed "my faith was restored...and doubled," said Bernstein [1:31].
Time Magazine reported on the incident on October 23, 1973:
"There was also an unscheduled theatrical moment in the middle of a filmed performance of Bernstein conducting Mozart's G-Minor Symphony: a bomb threat emptied the auditorium. 'I wouldn't have minded if the bomb-threat caller had only interrupted me,' said Bernstein after the audience had filed back. 'But to have interrupted Mozart was a sacrilege.' The mostly under-25 audience screamed, shrieked, applauded hysterically, and at concert's end, showered the stage with rose petals."
Showing posts with label Leonard Bernstein. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Leonard Bernstein. Show all posts
Friday, November 19, 2010
Thursday, August 26, 2010
“Trouble in Tahiti, indeed! -----Trouble in Tahiti, imagine!"
"Trouble in Tahiti!," sings Nancy Williams in this great clip from the 1973 production by Amberson Video, "Indeed!"
Williams plays the character Dinah in this one-act opera by Leonard Bernstein written shortly after his marriage to Felicia Monealegre. He must have found its construction to be endlessly entertaining at that time, and he wrote both the words and the music.
The plot is about emotional isolation in the suburbs. This is a couple that has everything they could ever need; but they have lost themselves, lost one another.
In scene VI, Dinah has just come from a matinee and is in the process of getting a makeover. The beauty shop in this production is symbolic of transformation, but the text speaks in excited stream-of-consciousness. The music veers away from A-flat major, always to return until the Hollywood grand ending. The energy is playful, and if politically incorrect, at least its over-the-top:
[0:00-0:26] Opening Recitative
[0:27-0:59] An exotic world: gongs, flutter-tongue flutes and other strange colors:
Bernstein asks that it be sung in "South Pacific Accent:"
[1:21-1:32] Back on track in A-flat Major:
[1:43-1:49] A parenthetical musical detour through bVI (F-flat major):
[2:15-2:23] A parenthetical musical detour through bVI (F-flat major):
[2:36-2:45] Gamelan-like riff returns:
[3:35-3:44] Island Magic in B-flat minor
[3:44-3:44] Island Magic in G-flat major
[3:44-3:44] Island Magic Cadence that prolongs an E-flat dominant 7th chord
[3:44-4:22] On its way somewhere else
Williams plays the character Dinah in this one-act opera by Leonard Bernstein written shortly after his marriage to Felicia Monealegre. He must have found its construction to be endlessly entertaining at that time, and he wrote both the words and the music.
The plot is about emotional isolation in the suburbs. This is a couple that has everything they could ever need; but they have lost themselves, lost one another.
In scene VI, Dinah has just come from a matinee and is in the process of getting a makeover. The beauty shop in this production is symbolic of transformation, but the text speaks in excited stream-of-consciousness. The music veers away from A-flat major, always to return until the Hollywood grand ending. The energy is playful, and if politically incorrect, at least its over-the-top:
[0:00-0:26] Opening Recitative
What a movie!
What a terrible, awful movie!
It’s a crime what they put
on the screen!
I can hardly believe what I’ve seen!
Do they think we’re a lot of children?
It would bore any four year old!
What drivel! What nonsense!
What escapist Technicolor twaddle!
[0:27-0:59] An exotic world: gongs, flutter-tongue flutes and other strange colors:
“Trouble in Tahiti,” indeed![1:00-1:13] In A-flat major: Hot-cha, Hot-cha rhythms and syncopated thinking:
“Trouble in Tahiti,” imagine!
There she is in her inch or two of sarong
Floating, floating, floating, all among the
floating flowers.
Then she sees him, the handsome American.[1:13-1:20] A parenthetical musical detour through bVI (F-flat major):
(I must say he’s really a man,
Six feet tall, and each foot just incredible!)
Well, they’re madly in love,
But there’s trouble ahead;
Bernstein asks that it be sung in "South Pacific Accent:"
There’s a legend:
“If a princess marry white man, and rain fall that day,
Then the white man shall be sacrifice without delay.”
[1:21-1:32] Back on track in A-flat Major:
Sure enough, on the night of their wedding day,[1:32-1:42] Nasal singing of a riff that sounds vaguely Gamelan [Eb,G,Ab,Bb,Db]:
There’s a storm like nothing on earth;
Tidal waves and siroccos and hurricanes;
And to top it all off,
The volcano erupts
As the natives sing: Ah! Ah! Ah! Olé!
[1:43-1:49] A parenthetical musical detour through bVI (F-flat major):
They go crazy with the drumming and the chanting and ritual dance,[1:50-2:02] Back on track in A-flat Major:
While the lovers sing a ballad of South Seas romance.
It’s so lovely, I wish I could think of it;[2:03-2:16] Island magic: also in bVI (F-flat major]
Da da dee da da…
It was called “Island Magic,”
I think it was.
Oh, a beautiful song!
I remember it now:
“Island Magic, where the midnight breezes caress us,
And the stars above
seem to bless us,
That’s Island Magic, Island Magic.”
[2:15-2:23] A parenthetical musical detour through bVI (F-flat major):
Well, in any case, the hero is tied to a tree.[2:23-2:36] Back on track in A-flat Major:
(Did I tell you he’s a flyer
who got lost at sea?)
Anyway, all the natives are crazy now,
Running wild with lances and knives;
Then they pile up the wood for the sacrifice,
And the witch doctor comes,
And he sets it on fire.
[2:36-2:45] Gamelan-like riff returns:
As the natives sing: Ah! Ah! Ah! Olé![2:45-2:54] Detour through bVI (F-flat major) with fifes and military drums:
But at this point, comes the good old U.S. Navy,[2:55-3:18] Finale: Sudden shift to A major...bright as sunlight and faster!
A-singin’ a song.
They come swarming down in parachutes a thousand strong!
Everything now is cleared up and wonderful:[3:19-3:35] Island magic:(F major]“with background singers
Everyone is happy as pie;
And they all do a great rumba version of “Island Magic” of course!
It’s a dazzling sight;
With the sleek brown native women dancing with the U.S. Navy boys,
And a hundred-piece symphony orchestra:
Island Magic! Where the palm trees whisper together,
And it’s always warm summer weather,
That’s Island Magic,
[3:35-3:44] Island Magic in B-flat minor
Island Magic! With the one I love very near;
[3:44-3:44] Island Magic in G-flat major
Island Magic, Whispering native words in my ear.
[3:44-3:44] Island Magic Cadence that prolongs an E-flat dominant 7th chord
Island Magic,[3:44-3:44] Island Magic: deceptive resolution to F major
Only you, my darling, could weave it,
And I never ever will leave it,
And I simply cannot believe
It really is mine!
[3:44-4:22] On its way somewhere else
Island Magic![4:23-End] Dinah suddenly regains focus and jumps back to the opening recitative:
Island Ma…”
What a terrible, awful movie!!!
How long have I been standing here chattering?
If I don’t get going this minute, there won’t be any dinner
When Sam comes home!
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Intensities and meltdowns; Behind the scenes of the West Side Story Recording
The recording industry for orchestral music is a breeding ground for meltdowns, but was particularly so when recordings were done in live sessions without click-tracks. Orchestras are expensive and run by union regulations. Time is of the essence. Fifty people or more are listening, playing, observing--even when a film crew is not present.
This infamous film of the recording process for "West Side Story" from 1985 documents a fascinating series of obstacles.
It was intended to be Bernstein's signature recording of this work as a conductor. Under his supervision it would be authoritative. What happens when unfixable problems begin to surface? What happens as these problems seem to multiply and threaten to overwhelm the process? Bernstein drops the F bomb.
José Carreras was chosen to sing the part of Tony. Carreras is a gifted singer who has had a major career. But he was not used to the rhythmic language of this music. The English language is also extremely difficult to sing--even for a native speaker. Most people agree that the end product, while not perfect, has gorgeous moments.
Reactions to this video, as documented by informal responses on Youtube, run the entire gamut: pro-Bernstein, anti-Bernstein, pro-Carreras, anti-Carreras, and several combinations of two or more categories...
This clip is not a battle with a winner and a loser. It is a lesson in the dynamic of intensity, and how, even though it was not always delicate, things got done back then:
[0:00-1:41] A quiet and ordinary rehearsal with Carreras, a pianist, and Bernstein.
It is an ordinary day; details are being worked out. Bernstein is very complimentary to Carreras in the voiceover, recognizing that "Carreras is a fresh element; that I can tell you."
[1:42-2:25] The rehearsal is already running late and Bernstein is becoming increasingly impatient. He asks Carreras to take a breath at a very specific location in order to have wind to carry the rest of the phrase.
[2:26-3:28] "What happens!?"
Bernstein discovers that his markings were not transferred to the parts and vents anger toward his assistant.
[3:29-3:52] "Carreras, I'll never stop saying Carreras"
A pun that does not relieve tension for anyone else given the intensity of concentration.
[3:53-6:34] A run-through that derails. Carreras asks to work on three bars alone so that he can get his bearings. The rehearsal, already running late is stopped. Carreras reacts. Bernstein reacts. Bernstein lights a cigarette...imagine. "Such problems."
[6:35-6:52] "At that moment I was...not too happy" says Carreras.
[6:53-10:04] "One More Time"....."Great Take."
This infamous film of the recording process for "West Side Story" from 1985 documents a fascinating series of obstacles.
It was intended to be Bernstein's signature recording of this work as a conductor. Under his supervision it would be authoritative. What happens when unfixable problems begin to surface? What happens as these problems seem to multiply and threaten to overwhelm the process? Bernstein drops the F bomb.
José Carreras was chosen to sing the part of Tony. Carreras is a gifted singer who has had a major career. But he was not used to the rhythmic language of this music. The English language is also extremely difficult to sing--even for a native speaker. Most people agree that the end product, while not perfect, has gorgeous moments.
Reactions to this video, as documented by informal responses on Youtube, run the entire gamut: pro-Bernstein, anti-Bernstein, pro-Carreras, anti-Carreras, and several combinations of two or more categories...
This clip is not a battle with a winner and a loser. It is a lesson in the dynamic of intensity, and how, even though it was not always delicate, things got done back then:
[0:00-1:41] A quiet and ordinary rehearsal with Carreras, a pianist, and Bernstein.
It is an ordinary day; details are being worked out. Bernstein is very complimentary to Carreras in the voiceover, recognizing that "Carreras is a fresh element; that I can tell you."
[1:42-2:25] The rehearsal is already running late and Bernstein is becoming increasingly impatient. He asks Carreras to take a breath at a very specific location in order to have wind to carry the rest of the phrase.
[2:26-3:28] "What happens!?"
Bernstein discovers that his markings were not transferred to the parts and vents anger toward his assistant.
[3:29-3:52] "Carreras, I'll never stop saying Carreras"
A pun that does not relieve tension for anyone else given the intensity of concentration.
[3:53-6:34] A run-through that derails. Carreras asks to work on three bars alone so that he can get his bearings. The rehearsal, already running late is stopped. Carreras reacts. Bernstein reacts. Bernstein lights a cigarette...imagine. "Such problems."
[6:35-6:52] "At that moment I was...not too happy" says Carreras.
[6:53-10:04] "One More Time"....."Great Take."
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Don't be frightened, Mr.Gould is here: Bernstein vs. Gould: 1962
The New York Philharmonic performance on Friday, April 6, 1962 became legendary. It has rolled downhill to create 48 years of water-cooler conversation.
Glenn Gould had ideas about tempo relationships between sections in the Brahms first piano concerto that differed so fundamentally from the current performance practice that there was no way to find common ground with conductor Leonard Bernstein.
Bernstein respected Gould as an innovator and as a "thinking performer," so he did not cancel his own performance. He came upon the idea of distancing himself from the interpretation by making prefatory remarks.
The ethical implications of these remarks are still being discussed. But they show Bernstein at his most charismatic and charming, with his best line being delivered at [2:10]. Still, he was always able to frame complicated ideas with clarity and great diplomacy.
Bernstein's first remark was to confirm that Gould would be performing and had not cancelled at the last minute:
[Radio Broadcaster:]
"The Canadian pianist Glenn Gould is to be soloist now...Leonard Bernstein conducting the New York Philharmonic...in a performance of the piano concerto No. 1 in D minor by Brahms. [applause] I think Mr. Bernstein will have something to say to the audience...so, down to the stage:"
[Leonard Bernstein:]
[0:26] "Don't be frightened...Mr. Gould is here. (audience laughter) [He] will appear in a moment.
[0:32] I am not — as you know — in the habit of speaking on any concert except the Thursday night previews, but a curious situation has arisen, which merits, I think, a word or two.
[0:46] You are about to hear a rather, shall we say, unorthodox performance of the Brahms D Minor Concerto, a performance distinctly different from any I've ever heard, or even dreamt of for that matter, in its remarkably broad tempi and its frequent departures from Brahms' dynamic indications.
[1:09] I cannot say I am in total agreement with Mr. Gould's conception. And this raises the interesting question: "What am I doing conducting it?" (chuckles) I'm conducting it because Mr. Gould is so valid and serious an artist, that I must take seriously anything he conceives in good faith, and his conception is interesting enough so that I feel you should hear it, too.
[1:40] But the age-old question still remains: "In a concerto, who is the boss — the soloist (chuckles) or the conductor?" (laughs) The answer is, of course, sometimes one and sometimes the other depending on the people involved. But almost always, the two manage to get together, by persuasion or charm or even threats (brief laugh) to achieve a unified performance.
[2:10] I have only once before in my life had to submit to a soloist's wholly new and incompatible concept, and that was the last time I accompanied Mr. Gould. (extended laughter).
[2:27] But this time, the discrepancies between our views are so great that I feel I must make this small disclaimer.
[2:41] So why, to repeat the question, am I conducting it? Why do I not make a minor scandal — get a substitute soloist, or let an assistant conduct it?
[2:53] Because I am fascinated, glad to have the chance for a new look at this much played work; because, what's more, there are moments in Mr. Gould's performance that emerge with astonishing freshness and conviction. Thirdly, because we can all learn something from this extraordinary artist who is a thinking performer; and finally because there is in music what Dimitri Mitropoulos used to call "the sportive element" (chuckles) — that factor of curiosity, adventure, experiment, and I can assure you that it has been an adventure this week (chuckles) collaborating with Mr. Gould on this Brahms concerto; and it's in this spirit of adventure that we now present it to you."
Glenn Gould had ideas about tempo relationships between sections in the Brahms first piano concerto that differed so fundamentally from the current performance practice that there was no way to find common ground with conductor Leonard Bernstein.
Bernstein respected Gould as an innovator and as a "thinking performer," so he did not cancel his own performance. He came upon the idea of distancing himself from the interpretation by making prefatory remarks.
The ethical implications of these remarks are still being discussed. But they show Bernstein at his most charismatic and charming, with his best line being delivered at [2:10]. Still, he was always able to frame complicated ideas with clarity and great diplomacy.
Bernstein's first remark was to confirm that Gould would be performing and had not cancelled at the last minute:
[Radio Broadcaster:]
"The Canadian pianist Glenn Gould is to be soloist now...Leonard Bernstein conducting the New York Philharmonic...in a performance of the piano concerto No. 1 in D minor by Brahms. [applause] I think Mr. Bernstein will have something to say to the audience...so, down to the stage:"
[Leonard Bernstein:]
[0:26] "Don't be frightened...Mr. Gould is here. (audience laughter) [He] will appear in a moment.
[0:32] I am not — as you know — in the habit of speaking on any concert except the Thursday night previews, but a curious situation has arisen, which merits, I think, a word or two.
[0:46] You are about to hear a rather, shall we say, unorthodox performance of the Brahms D Minor Concerto, a performance distinctly different from any I've ever heard, or even dreamt of for that matter, in its remarkably broad tempi and its frequent departures from Brahms' dynamic indications.
[1:09] I cannot say I am in total agreement with Mr. Gould's conception. And this raises the interesting question: "What am I doing conducting it?" (chuckles) I'm conducting it because Mr. Gould is so valid and serious an artist, that I must take seriously anything he conceives in good faith, and his conception is interesting enough so that I feel you should hear it, too.
[1:40] But the age-old question still remains: "In a concerto, who is the boss — the soloist (chuckles) or the conductor?" (laughs) The answer is, of course, sometimes one and sometimes the other depending on the people involved. But almost always, the two manage to get together, by persuasion or charm or even threats (brief laugh) to achieve a unified performance.
[2:10] I have only once before in my life had to submit to a soloist's wholly new and incompatible concept, and that was the last time I accompanied Mr. Gould. (extended laughter).
[2:27] But this time, the discrepancies between our views are so great that I feel I must make this small disclaimer.
[2:41] So why, to repeat the question, am I conducting it? Why do I not make a minor scandal — get a substitute soloist, or let an assistant conduct it?
[2:53] Because I am fascinated, glad to have the chance for a new look at this much played work; because, what's more, there are moments in Mr. Gould's performance that emerge with astonishing freshness and conviction. Thirdly, because we can all learn something from this extraordinary artist who is a thinking performer; and finally because there is in music what Dimitri Mitropoulos used to call "the sportive element" (chuckles) — that factor of curiosity, adventure, experiment, and I can assure you that it has been an adventure this week (chuckles) collaborating with Mr. Gould on this Brahms concerto; and it's in this spirit of adventure that we now present it to you."
Friday, July 2, 2010
König Stephan Overture; Beethoven, Bernstein and the art of Orchestral Joy
Beethoven's music comes to mind in moments of grandness. He was master of the heroic, of the epic, of the transcendent--but he also knew how to enjoy a good snicker.
The König Stephan Overture Op 117 was written during the summer of 1811. It was commissioned to celebrate the opening of a new theater in Pest. The work seldom acquires advocates: "Neither the text [of the stage-work in which it was included] nor the music was of the highest standard," wrote Anne-Louise Coldicott in "The Beethoven Compendium."
The work found its first sympathetic interpreter in Leonard Bernstein. Bernstein could articulate collisions of formality, lightness and laughter. In less than two minutes of introductory discourse he clarified the energy of this work in 1978 with classic Bernstein wit. "It is a charmer and a curiosity," said Bernstein, "a cross between Béla Bartók and Shortnin' Bread."
The relationship to Bartók is not literal, but the metaphor serves well to indicate that the combination of fourths in the openings fanfare is more common to the twentieth century than the nineteenth.
The first four pitches in the fanfare: Eb-Bb-F-C are deflected into a light march in A-flat major. The next fanfare interrupts the march, F-C-G-D, and interprets the final D as part of a dominant seventh of E-flat in order to allow the music to land, without skipping off the atmosphere into deep space.
Bernstein brings some "West Side" later in this "Story" giving everything to the backbeats during the closing theme.
Putting the pure joy of orchestral musicianship on display was part of the Bernstein legacy. "I'm only trying," said Bernstein "to Rev You Up!" Thirty-two years later it still works.
The König Stephan Overture Op 117 was written during the summer of 1811. It was commissioned to celebrate the opening of a new theater in Pest. The work seldom acquires advocates: "Neither the text [of the stage-work in which it was included] nor the music was of the highest standard," wrote Anne-Louise Coldicott in "The Beethoven Compendium."
The work found its first sympathetic interpreter in Leonard Bernstein. Bernstein could articulate collisions of formality, lightness and laughter. In less than two minutes of introductory discourse he clarified the energy of this work in 1978 with classic Bernstein wit. "It is a charmer and a curiosity," said Bernstein, "a cross between Béla Bartók and Shortnin' Bread."
The relationship to Bartók is not literal, but the metaphor serves well to indicate that the combination of fourths in the openings fanfare is more common to the twentieth century than the nineteenth.
The first four pitches in the fanfare: Eb-Bb-F-C are deflected into a light march in A-flat major. The next fanfare interrupts the march, F-C-G-D, and interprets the final D as part of a dominant seventh of E-flat in order to allow the music to land, without skipping off the atmosphere into deep space.
Bernstein brings some "West Side" later in this "Story" giving everything to the backbeats during the closing theme.
Putting the pure joy of orchestral musicianship on display was part of the Bernstein legacy. "I'm only trying," said Bernstein "to Rev You Up!" Thirty-two years later it still works.
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