Showing posts with label cmm4. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cmm4. Show all posts
Thursday, March 1, 2012
hiatus
Oh, hello. It is with great regret that I announce that CMM5 will take place in 2013. We're on hiatus. But why?! Last year was the stuff of legend, truly. Never in my life have I had such a time. The thrill of a premiere, of an orchestra with more percussion than you might believe, of an brilliant composer and kind soul, honestly it just about did me in. So we're on hiatus. We're taking a year, to revise, rework, renew and rejuvenate. I'll continue to write and plan. CMM5 is tentatively planned for June of 2013; look out for a call for papers, proposals, and lecture recitals.
Monday, June 20, 2011
cmm4: it is about relationships, people!
Once upon a time, I suggested that we program Yoko Ono's Promise Piece. Essentially, the performer breaks a piece of pottery, distributes the broken shards among the audience and enacts a quasi-ritualistic pact to reconvene ten years later to make whole this decade-old ceramic diaspora.
Sadly, Promise Piece never made its way to a Chamber Music Midwest program, however the spirit of Ono's performance remained integral to that life-changing fortnight known as Oh No, Fluxus! When I founded the festival four years ago, I had an instinct, an impulse arguably premature without a recognizable rationale or reason to support it. Today, I can see that this instinct was one connected to the need for community, to forge relationships deep, meaningful, and indeed musical. All too often our time in music school is spent not perfecting our craft, but rather developing a callused, impenetrable exoskeleton. Although arguably useful in protecting our fragile, nascent egos from barbs and shivs, such a structure proves detrimental to both the formation and formulation of artistic agency.
More than any other year, CMM4 exemplified the creation and strengthening of relationships--musical and otherwise. Our successful Kickstarter campaign (thanks everyone!) allowed for dear friends and fine musicians to travel to Wisconsin; the unique community formed through this proverbial "social cocktail" was exhilarating. The inclusion of family friends and community members as host families and so-called "bringers of jollity" facilitated a cross-generational, cross-disciplinary, cross-cultural exchange of ideas. Yes. Exhilarating. I would also argue that the music making was better for this very reason. Dining together, living together, dancing together, our community supported a joyful musical practice.
Sadly, Promise Piece never made its way to a Chamber Music Midwest program, however the spirit of Ono's performance remained integral to that life-changing fortnight known as Oh No, Fluxus! When I founded the festival four years ago, I had an instinct, an impulse arguably premature without a recognizable rationale or reason to support it. Today, I can see that this instinct was one connected to the need for community, to forge relationships deep, meaningful, and indeed musical. All too often our time in music school is spent not perfecting our craft, but rather developing a callused, impenetrable exoskeleton. Although arguably useful in protecting our fragile, nascent egos from barbs and shivs, such a structure proves detrimental to both the formation and formulation of artistic agency.
Why is this so damaging? Because music is about relationships, people!
More than any other year, CMM4 exemplified the creation and strengthening of relationships--musical and otherwise. Our successful Kickstarter campaign (thanks everyone!) allowed for dear friends and fine musicians to travel to Wisconsin; the unique community formed through this proverbial "social cocktail" was exhilarating. The inclusion of family friends and community members as host families and so-called "bringers of jollity" facilitated a cross-generational, cross-disciplinary, cross-cultural exchange of ideas. Yes. Exhilarating. I would also argue that the music making was better for this very reason. Dining together, living together, dancing together, our community supported a joyful musical practice.
Monday, June 6, 2011
quick thoughts on jabes/yael/corbett
Remember this? Once upon a time, we decided to put together an orchestra to perform Sidney Corbett's violin concerto, Yael. Yesterday was the big day, and indeed, a day I will treasure for the rest of my life.
After speaking with the composer, spending time with Derrida, Jabes, and sitting in on rehearsals, I am completely inspired to write volumes on the concerto. But for now (in the wake of what will be remembered as an incredible eighteen hours), I will offer a few observations on Yael inspired by an essay by Derrida. Eccolo.
Derrida writes that the following is the "most persistant affirmation of the Livre des questions."
At the heart of such a statement, exists--I believe--a dialectic: text and context, word and wordsmith engaging in a dynamic exchange of material and conception via performative practices. Sitting in Yael rehearsal yesterday, I couldn't help but reflect on Derrida's assertion and Jabes words.
How might we utilize Derrida's literary criticism and Jabes' text to understand Corbett's musical language? On the broadest level, the connection, confusion, and conflation of author and subject implies a dialectic. However, in applying Jabes to Corbett, we might look to the very essence of musical performance itself. If one accepts the performing musician as he who writes, one can also accept his or her performance (and the hours of practice that precede it) as a force that writes the body in the process through which it is created.
What exactly do I mean by this?
Numerous and diverse cultural theorists & philosophers (Foucault, and more recently Butler and Leppert) have noted the dualistic, dialogic relationship between the physical body and its cultural conditioning. Music, Leppert tells us, functions as a technology for making docile the body. Through the performance of music and dance the body is written while it writes that which is performed.
Corbett seems to work with this concept of cycles and dialog on numerous levels. On a very basic, musical level, the concerto--belying Corbett's studies with Ligeti--is constructed in layered dialectics: each individual part forms textural layers, providing a unique voice that operates both independently and as a larger mechanism of conformity (the orchestra itself). In this sense, Corbett expresses a musical cycle of creation and recreation, but also a broader perspective on authorship and agency.
Indeed, to write and to be written hang on a conceptual scaffold bound to concepts of artistic authority (the author/subject duality). Expanding on this duality, Corbett utilizes a classical orchestra in a ostensibly post-modern way. Composed of individual parts, the orchestra is, metaphorically speaking, a chorus of soloists--individuated yet bound by tradition and musical structure. He creates a dialog between epistemologies: the modern and the post-modern converse, offering a relevant expression of the present human condition.
After speaking with the composer, spending time with Derrida, Jabes, and sitting in on rehearsals, I am completely inspired to write volumes on the concerto. But for now (in the wake of what will be remembered as an incredible eighteen hours), I will offer a few observations on Yael inspired by an essay by Derrida. Eccolo.
Derrida writes that the following is the "most persistant affirmation of the Livre des questions."
You are he who writes and is written.
At the heart of such a statement, exists--I believe--a dialectic: text and context, word and wordsmith engaging in a dynamic exchange of material and conception via performative practices. Sitting in Yael rehearsal yesterday, I couldn't help but reflect on Derrida's assertion and Jabes words.
You are he who writes and is written.
How might we utilize Derrida's literary criticism and Jabes' text to understand Corbett's musical language? On the broadest level, the connection, confusion, and conflation of author and subject implies a dialectic. However, in applying Jabes to Corbett, we might look to the very essence of musical performance itself. If one accepts the performing musician as he who writes, one can also accept his or her performance (and the hours of practice that precede it) as a force that writes the body in the process through which it is created.
What exactly do I mean by this?
Numerous and diverse cultural theorists & philosophers (Foucault, and more recently Butler and Leppert) have noted the dualistic, dialogic relationship between the physical body and its cultural conditioning. Music, Leppert tells us, functions as a technology for making docile the body. Through the performance of music and dance the body is written while it writes that which is performed.
Corbett seems to work with this concept of cycles and dialog on numerous levels. On a very basic, musical level, the concerto--belying Corbett's studies with Ligeti--is constructed in layered dialectics: each individual part forms textural layers, providing a unique voice that operates both independently and as a larger mechanism of conformity (the orchestra itself). In this sense, Corbett expresses a musical cycle of creation and recreation, but also a broader perspective on authorship and agency.
Indeed, to write and to be written hang on a conceptual scaffold bound to concepts of artistic authority (the author/subject duality). Expanding on this duality, Corbett utilizes a classical orchestra in a ostensibly post-modern way. Composed of individual parts, the orchestra is, metaphorically speaking, a chorus of soloists--individuated yet bound by tradition and musical structure. He creates a dialog between epistemologies: the modern and the post-modern converse, offering a relevant expression of the present human condition.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
in sequenza: the music of luciano berio
Surprisingly enough, I cannot remember the first time I heard the music of Luciano Berio. It might have been the Sinfonia, or a Sequenza; honestly, I have no idea. My adoration of Berio seems as natural as my love of Beethoven and Brahms and Bartok: something inherited through culture and circumstance rather than acquired through study and individual edification. With this in mind, it gives me great pleasure to program an entire concert of Berio's music. Eccolo:
In Sequenza: The Music of Luciano Berio
June 9th, 2011 @ 7:30pm
River Falls United Methodist Church (Map)
with performers: Isoa Chapman, Geoffrey Deibel, & Jennifer Tinberg
Free Admission
_____________
Program:
Sequenza IX for Clarinet
Sequenza VIIb for Soprano Saxophone
Selections from Duetti (arr. Deibel & Chapman)
Sequenza VIII for Violin
In Sequenza: The Music of Luciano Berio
June 9th, 2011 @ 7:30pm
River Falls United Methodist Church (Map)
with performers: Isoa Chapman, Geoffrey Deibel, & Jennifer Tinberg
Free Admission
_____________
Program:
Sequenza IX for Clarinet
Sequenza VIIb for Soprano Saxophone
Selections from Duetti (arr. Deibel & Chapman)
Sequenza VIII for Violin
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
for immediate release
In case you had any questions about Yael, here is your answer (and so much more)
____________________________
to PROMOTE A REVOLUTIONARY FLOOD
AND TIDE IN ART,
Promote living art, anti-art, promote
NON ART REALITY to be
fully grasped by all peoples, not only
critics, dilettantes and professionals.
[…]
FUSE the cadres of cultural,
social & political revolutionaries
into united front & action.
—Fluxus Manifesto. George Maciunas (1963)
CHAMBER MUSIC MIDWEST announces its fourth season, Oh No, Fluxus! June 2-12, 2011. In keeping with CMM tradition, the tongue-partially-in-cheek title references a twentieth-century aesthetic movement associated with Georg Maciunas and his circle (of which Yoko Ono was a part). Inspired by conceits of access, revolution and indeed, flux, the Fluxus group--as noted in the Manifesto--sought to not only to "promote a revolutionary flood and tide in art," but also to "promote living art, anti-art, promote non art reality to be fully grasped by all peoples, not only critics, dilettantes and professionals." Thus, inspired by Maciunas's rhetoric, Oh No, Fluxus! will incorporate a diverse spectrum of music and performance while participating in a "revolutionary flood tide in art," one that seeks to dissolve the metaphorical and physical barriers that prevent universal access to music, art and ideas. All concerts are presented free of charge in partnership with local arts organizations and venues. For a detailed concert calendar, please visit: http://chambermusicmidwest.blogspot.com/p/concert-calendar.html
Oh No, Fluxus! will feature performers and composers of the highest order including internationally acclaimed composer, Sidney Corbett (professor of composition at Hochschule für Musik und darstellende Kunst at Mannheim), Sarah Plum (professor of violin and viola at Drake University and first prize winner of the 1984 International Stulberg Competition), Akira Mori (winner of the Hideo Saito Award from Tokyo International Music Competition Conducting Contest), Geoffrey Deibel (Adjunct Professor of Saxophone, Grand Valley State University; member of h2 quartet, 2007 first prize winner of the Fischoff Competition), and Joseph Peters (New World Symphony), among numerous others.
We are pleased to present the American premiere of Sidney Corbett’s Yaёl for solo violin and orchestra. This free concert is presented in partnership and with the generous support of the St. Croix Artbarn on June 5th, 2011 at 4pm with a preconcert lecture at 3:15pm.
ABOUT THE FESTIVAL
Our Mission: Chamber Music Midwest aims to present diverse programs of western art music in a free concert series designed to connect rural Wisconsin communities with classical music in a welcoming and informal setting. The concepts of access, education, and communication comprise the foundation upon which the festival is built. We seek to dismantle the physical and metaphorical barriers that prevent universal access to music and ideas. We seek to educate through means conventional (program notes and concert-demonstrations), and dynamic (a blog, a Facebook page, and unorthodox programming). We seek to communicate with our audiences as equals, acknowledging the symbiotic relationship between performers and listeners.
Our Genesis, a statement from artistic director, Clare Louise Harmon: Chamber Music Midwest was founded in the summer of 2008. I had been in music school at the University of Minnesota and wanted to perform with my friends and colleagues, unfettered by the demands of the institution. Furthermore, reflecting upon my childhood and adolescent years in New Richmond, I recognized a need for a concert series that might introduce (or re-introduce) classical music to the community. Out of these conclusions Chamber Music Midwest was born and has been growing ever since, featuring a diverse spectrum of performers. The first season was small but successful; the second included a composer in residence, a wind ensemble, and an eclectic selection of repertoire (Mozart, Varese, Reich, Penderecki, Brahms, and our composer in residence, Scott Sandersfeld). The third season was the most ambitious yet, featuring a resident conductor, a chamber orchestra, and a team young musicians and soloists on the precipice of performing careers. However despite this high quality of performance, Chamber Music Midwest is not about soloists or concert careers or fame. Rather, it is about musicians volunteering their time to perform in the company of friends.
For more information, including complete performer biographies, please visit:
http://www.chambermusicmidwest.blogspot.com
____________________________
to PROMOTE A REVOLUTIONARY FLOOD
AND TIDE IN ART,
Promote living art, anti-art, promote
NON ART REALITY to be
critics, dilettantes and professionals.
[…]
FUSE the cadres of cultural,
social & political revolutionaries
into united front & action.
—Fluxus Manifesto. George Maciunas (1963)
CHAMBER MUSIC MIDWEST announces its fourth season, Oh No, Fluxus! June 2-12, 2011. In keeping with CMM tradition, the tongue-partially-in-cheek title references a twentieth-century aesthetic movement associated with Georg Maciunas and his circle (of which Yoko Ono was a part). Inspired by conceits of access, revolution and indeed, flux, the Fluxus group--as noted in the Manifesto--sought to not only to "promote a revolutionary flood and tide in art," but also to "promote living art, anti-art, promote non art reality to be fully grasped by all peoples, not only critics, dilettantes and professionals." Thus, inspired by Maciunas's rhetoric, Oh No, Fluxus! will incorporate a diverse spectrum of music and performance while participating in a "revolutionary flood tide in art," one that seeks to dissolve the metaphorical and physical barriers that prevent universal access to music, art and ideas. All concerts are presented free of charge in partnership with local arts organizations and venues. For a detailed concert calendar, please visit: http://chambermusicmidwest.blogspot.com/p/concert-calendar.html
Oh No, Fluxus! will feature performers and composers of the highest order including internationally acclaimed composer, Sidney Corbett (professor of composition at Hochschule für Musik und darstellende Kunst at Mannheim), Sarah Plum (professor of violin and viola at Drake University and first prize winner of the 1984 International Stulberg Competition), Akira Mori (winner of the Hideo Saito Award from Tokyo International Music Competition Conducting Contest), Geoffrey Deibel (Adjunct Professor of Saxophone, Grand Valley State University; member of h2 quartet, 2007 first prize winner of the Fischoff Competition), and Joseph Peters (New World Symphony), among numerous others.
We are pleased to present the American premiere of Sidney Corbett’s Yaёl for solo violin and orchestra. This free concert is presented in partnership and with the generous support of the St. Croix Artbarn on June 5th, 2011 at 4pm with a preconcert lecture at 3:15pm.
ABOUT THE FESTIVAL
Our Mission: Chamber Music Midwest aims to present diverse programs of western art music in a free concert series designed to connect rural Wisconsin communities with classical music in a welcoming and informal setting. The concepts of access, education, and communication comprise the foundation upon which the festival is built. We seek to dismantle the physical and metaphorical barriers that prevent universal access to music and ideas. We seek to educate through means conventional (program notes and concert-demonstrations), and dynamic (a blog, a Facebook page, and unorthodox programming). We seek to communicate with our audiences as equals, acknowledging the symbiotic relationship between performers and listeners.
Our Genesis, a statement from artistic director, Clare Louise Harmon: Chamber Music Midwest was founded in the summer of 2008. I had been in music school at the University of Minnesota and wanted to perform with my friends and colleagues, unfettered by the demands of the institution. Furthermore, reflecting upon my childhood and adolescent years in New Richmond, I recognized a need for a concert series that might introduce (or re-introduce) classical music to the community. Out of these conclusions Chamber Music Midwest was born and has been growing ever since, featuring a diverse spectrum of performers. The first season was small but successful; the second included a composer in residence, a wind ensemble, and an eclectic selection of repertoire (Mozart, Varese, Reich, Penderecki, Brahms, and our composer in residence, Scott Sandersfeld). The third season was the most ambitious yet, featuring a resident conductor, a chamber orchestra, and a team young musicians and soloists on the precipice of performing careers. However despite this high quality of performance, Chamber Music Midwest is not about soloists or concert careers or fame. Rather, it is about musicians volunteering their time to perform in the company of friends.
For more information, including complete performer biographies, please visit:
http://www.chambermusicmidwest.blogspot.com
Friday, May 6, 2011
the project has launched
Check out Chamber Music Midwest on Kickstarter; I hope you'll consider donating!
CMM 2010; Pre-concert dinner party
Thursday, May 5, 2011
chamber music midwest is also a music festival
I've been hitting hard the "access to ideas" portion of our mission statement in recent weeks. But. It is important to note that Chamber Music Midwest is also a music festival. Our fourth season quickly approaching, I am about to launch into publicity mode. While I worked on writing some copy (arguably my VERY FAVORITE TASK EVER) yesterday evening, I took a break with some print publicity:
Saturday, March 19, 2011
the love songs of j. alfred prufrock by larkin sanders
Last night, I had the pleasure (and indeed, the honor) to perform a new work by a dear, dear friend. The music itself is quite good--in the Love Songs of J. Alfred Prufrock, Larkin has shown her keen instincts for organicism, appropriation, and tunefulness divorced from the saccharine and the tired. More than the music itself, the experience of premiering a new work is always a thrill, especially when it is the work of a close friend performed in the company of close friends. I look forward to sharing the Love Songs with CMM audiences in June of 2011.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
post-human, post-apocalyptic proliferation
This article came across my Google Reader recently via Arts and Letters. Chernobyl has fascinated me since first I heard about its burgeoning ecological renascence; Shukman describes the "irradiated eden" with vivid imagery. Paradoxically vivified by post-nuclear, post-human, and indeed post-apocalypic circumstance, Chernobyl's primeval ecology has asserted itself. Shukman's account of a utopic forest, drenched in radiation and host to a potential plethora of genetic mutations and micro-evolutions, provides a "real" example of Baudrillard's Telecomputer Man. The technological, the biological, and the toxic have fused in a post-nuclear horror.
As I read, I couldn't help but think of a visual analogue to the micro-evolutionary processes occurring in the Exclusion Zone. There is something about Tetsumi Kudo's so-called post-humanism that screams idyllic mutation and mutilation; an eerie and ultimately unsettling coalescence of the human, the natural and the mechanized.
Tetsumi Kudo: Love (L’Amour) (1964). Chairs, cotton, plastic, polyester, electrical diagrams, vinyl tubing, hair, painted wood box, and audiotape, 39 3/8 x 47 x 23 5/8 in.
Tetsumi Kudo: Pollution—Cultivation—New Ecology (Pollution—cultivation—nouvelle écologie) (1971-1972). wood, artificial flowers, artificial soil, cotton, plastic, polyester, adhesive, wire, transistors, snail shell, hair, mirror, paint 18-3/4 x 23-3/4 x 14-1/8 inches
As I read, I couldn't help but think of a visual analogue to the micro-evolutionary processes occurring in the Exclusion Zone. There is something about Tetsumi Kudo's so-called post-humanism that screams idyllic mutation and mutilation; an eerie and ultimately unsettling coalescence of the human, the natural and the mechanized.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
we're back!
....and with something exciting: CMM4's first concert announcement. Eccolo!
As an addendum, I must say that we are so very pleased to be working with the ArtBarn: great space under the direction of great people. This is going to be FUN!
yaël
June 5th, 2011 4pm
Akira Mori | Sarah Plum | CMM4 Chamber Orchestra
Presenting the American Premiere of
Sidney Corbett's yaël for solo violin and chamber orchestra
St. Croix ArtBarn, Osceola WI
June 5th, 2011 4pm
Akira Mori | Sarah Plum | CMM4 Chamber Orchestra
Presenting the American Premiere of
Sidney Corbett's yaël for solo violin and chamber orchestra
St. Croix ArtBarn, Osceola WI
As an addendum, I must say that we are so very pleased to be working with the ArtBarn: great space under the direction of great people. This is going to be FUN!
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
oh no! fluxus!
Dear Friends: I am happy to announce officially our fourth season Oh No, Fluxus! All hilarious puns aside ("Oh No" = Ono comma Yoko), we are planning on incorporating Ono's work alongside selections from her Fluxus coterie. In keeping with CMM tradition, these unconventional works will be programmed with a diversity of musics - Schoenberg, Corbett, Mozart, Schumann, just to name a few. Truly, I believe it will be a great season.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
wednesday miscellany
At long last, I have returned! As always there are numerous pieces of blog worthy flotsam floating about my brain, but for now I'll leave you with the following bits and bobs:
This interview with performance artist Marina Abramovic certainly helped me to better understand her oeuvre, but also a more recent work The Artist is Present. I also appreciate her philosophy on performance art, that is to say that it is not merely a singular event.
CMM All Stars Sarah Foster, Luke Foster and Solvay Peterson will present a free concert on Sunday, October 17 at 2:00 at First Lutheran Church of New Richmond. Music by Schubert and Prokofiev.
Recently, CMM Resident Conductor and Artistic Adviser, Joe Peters, sent me the video below. Don't be surprised if you see it on a CMM4 program...
Iannis Xenakis: Plekto (1993)
Finally, our little blog is moving. I have begun sketches for a CMM website within which a new blog, Thirty Second Notes (wink wink nudge nudge), will feature the content you've come to expect from this site.
This interview with performance artist Marina Abramovic certainly helped me to better understand her oeuvre, but also a more recent work The Artist is Present. I also appreciate her philosophy on performance art, that is to say that it is not merely a singular event.
CMM All Stars Sarah Foster, Luke Foster and Solvay Peterson will present a free concert on Sunday, October 17 at 2:00 at First Lutheran Church of New Richmond. Music by Schubert and Prokofiev.
Recently, CMM Resident Conductor and Artistic Adviser, Joe Peters, sent me the video below. Don't be surprised if you see it on a CMM4 program...
Iannis Xenakis: Plekto (1993)
Finally, our little blog is moving. I have begun sketches for a CMM website within which a new blog, Thirty Second Notes (wink wink nudge nudge), will feature the content you've come to expect from this site.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
eccomi! sono una brava studentessa, ma sempre occupata.
Che triste!
How time flies when you're in graduate school.
That which I spoke of earlier is well underway. Eccolo, a rough draft of our new mission statement:
The concepts of access, education and communication comprise the foundation upon which Chamber Music Midwest is built. The festival seeks to present high quality concerts at venues decidedly divorced from contemporary concert culture: correctional facilities, mental health clinics, elder care centers, churches. There are no stages and a dialogue between performers and audiences is not only encouraged, but is considered a facet of a successful concert. We seek to dismantle the physical and metaphorical barriers that prevent universal access to music and ideas. We seek to educate through means both conventional (program notes) and dynamic (a blog, Facebook, unorthodox programming). We seek to communicate with our audiences as equals, not--as the musical institution has advocated--within the mentality of binaries: artist versus dilettante, intellectual elite versus uneducated pleasure-seeker.
Recently, my research has taken a decidedly Marxist direction: I've got critical theory coming out of my ears. The basic question of course is how do we go about freeing the intellectually oppressed. For me the answer was access and thus, CMM's new mission statement was born. I'd love to hear what anyone out there has to say about this draft. As you can see, I want more than anything to address the problem of class as it relates to the experience of classical music...
Update: "uneducated pleasure-seeker" seems harsh, right? I want to make obvious the subtle power plays of the institution. I certainly don't feel this way, but I want to make it clear that this sort of attitude is prevalent (maybe "rampant" is an even better word) in the musical, intellectual and certainly academic communities. I'm talking about not only performers, but also arts administration. What is worse is that often, arts organizations trick themselves into believing that they participate in outreach, that they are making themselves accessible to the "masses" when in fact, they only perpetuate the us and them mentality. Free concerts are often held outside the concert hall, thus codifying the aforesaid ideas of class separatism. Furthermore, the repertoire chosen for these concerts often represents only the canonical standards (ie, that which is known to sell tickets): by limiting the public's exposure to new works, the musical establishment only promotes its intellectual supremacy.
When I began writing this update, I did not expect that by the end of the first paragraph I would be so securely perched upon my soap-box. Obviously, this is merely an introduction, but you get the point. I'll conclude by saying that CMM is different from the situation above because we do not (and I hope never will) perform in a traditional concert hall. Additionally, I try always to include a work on each program that would be challenging to the musician and the non-musician alike. The result has been illuminating, in fact. Often, it is the untrained ear that enjoys Berg more than Mozart.
Rant. over.
How time flies when you're in graduate school.
That which I spoke of earlier is well underway. Eccolo, a rough draft of our new mission statement:
The concepts of access, education and communication comprise the foundation upon which Chamber Music Midwest is built. The festival seeks to present high quality concerts at venues decidedly divorced from contemporary concert culture: correctional facilities, mental health clinics, elder care centers, churches. There are no stages and a dialogue between performers and audiences is not only encouraged, but is considered a facet of a successful concert. We seek to dismantle the physical and metaphorical barriers that prevent universal access to music and ideas. We seek to educate through means both conventional (program notes) and dynamic (a blog, Facebook, unorthodox programming). We seek to communicate with our audiences as equals, not--as the musical institution has advocated--within the mentality of binaries: artist versus dilettante, intellectual elite versus uneducated pleasure-seeker.
Recently, my research has taken a decidedly Marxist direction: I've got critical theory coming out of my ears. The basic question of course is how do we go about freeing the intellectually oppressed. For me the answer was access and thus, CMM's new mission statement was born. I'd love to hear what anyone out there has to say about this draft. As you can see, I want more than anything to address the problem of class as it relates to the experience of classical music...
Update: "uneducated pleasure-seeker" seems harsh, right? I want to make obvious the subtle power plays of the institution. I certainly don't feel this way, but I want to make it clear that this sort of attitude is prevalent (maybe "rampant" is an even better word) in the musical, intellectual and certainly academic communities. I'm talking about not only performers, but also arts administration. What is worse is that often, arts organizations trick themselves into believing that they participate in outreach, that they are making themselves accessible to the "masses" when in fact, they only perpetuate the us and them mentality. Free concerts are often held outside the concert hall, thus codifying the aforesaid ideas of class separatism. Furthermore, the repertoire chosen for these concerts often represents only the canonical standards (ie, that which is known to sell tickets): by limiting the public's exposure to new works, the musical establishment only promotes its intellectual supremacy.
When I began writing this update, I did not expect that by the end of the first paragraph I would be so securely perched upon my soap-box. Obviously, this is merely an introduction, but you get the point. I'll conclude by saying that CMM is different from the situation above because we do not (and I hope never will) perform in a traditional concert hall. Additionally, I try always to include a work on each program that would be challenging to the musician and the non-musician alike. The result has been illuminating, in fact. Often, it is the untrained ear that enjoys Berg more than Mozart.
Rant. over.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
nel futuro, saremo...
...non-profit! Clearly, I am bouncing off the walls with excitement regarding such a development. We have hashed and rehashed this possibility in the past, but it never seemed feasible; I can't really say why. Honestly, with the help of my dear father, close family friends adept in navigating the murky waters of charitable organizations, and a manageable measure of clerical elbow grease, I don't think it will be that bad. Famous last words.
My future as a grant-writing violist begins now. As I've said to many over the past couple of days, "I am going to spend my whole life asking institutions for money, I might as well start immediately." So true. However, I am looking forward to giving CMM a little more legitimacy. As a non-profit, we could receive any number of grants--translating in funds to not only cover the cost of hosting the concerts but also to bring in my new colleagues from MI, or old colleagues now relocated. Many options.
Furthermore, In writing the new mission statement (soon to be seen here!) I have had to look closely at that which I want CMM to truly address. We all know that it is not just an ordinary music festival, but specifically, how and why does it differ? For one thing, there is no admission and no one gets paid. Anything. I hope that by exchanging no funds in payment of services rendered, the festival participants feel more like friends and family than the employed. Additionally, the concerts themselves, logistically speaking, are extremely informal. We perform here, there is no stage, and the performers sit in the pews with the audience until their "time." We are all hanging out in the space before the concert and after, and I like to think that the audience members feel comfortable talking to us. Certainly, I don't believe I am going to deconstruct decades upon decades of concert culture and audience/performer power structures, but. Just the idea that the space itself does not support power relationships (that is to say, there is no stage), is an important step.
I think often of new places, new venues to help promote such a deconstruction. Next season is the first step!
My future as a grant-writing violist begins now. As I've said to many over the past couple of days, "I am going to spend my whole life asking institutions for money, I might as well start immediately." So true. However, I am looking forward to giving CMM a little more legitimacy. As a non-profit, we could receive any number of grants--translating in funds to not only cover the cost of hosting the concerts but also to bring in my new colleagues from MI, or old colleagues now relocated. Many options.
Furthermore, In writing the new mission statement (soon to be seen here!) I have had to look closely at that which I want CMM to truly address. We all know that it is not just an ordinary music festival, but specifically, how and why does it differ? For one thing, there is no admission and no one gets paid. Anything. I hope that by exchanging no funds in payment of services rendered, the festival participants feel more like friends and family than the employed. Additionally, the concerts themselves, logistically speaking, are extremely informal. We perform here, there is no stage, and the performers sit in the pews with the audience until their "time." We are all hanging out in the space before the concert and after, and I like to think that the audience members feel comfortable talking to us. Certainly, I don't believe I am going to deconstruct decades upon decades of concert culture and audience/performer power structures, but. Just the idea that the space itself does not support power relationships (that is to say, there is no stage), is an important step.
I think often of new places, new venues to help promote such a deconstruction. Next season is the first step!
Friday, July 16, 2010
the annihilation of passive voices
Confused by the title? Indeed. Recently, I became painfully aware of my overuse of the passive voice. Generally, I consider myself an adept writer, however late-nights, metaphorically full-plates, and slap-dash efforts to finish lingering academic commitments have facilitated my grammatical back-slide. I read something recently that proclaimed something to the effect of "your verbs should attack your nouns." I take it as a declaration of action, of rhetorical combat: fight the good fight against filler words; meaningless (poorly constructed) text. I cannot wait, a new project!
Not totally unrelated, I am presently resurrecting my Italian. As my studies progress, I find that my knowledge of English grammar (re)gains lucidity: the components of language vivify and solidify. Even as I write this little flurry, my mind fills with thoughts of tenses, subjects, verbs, direct objects...exhilarating! Don't be surprised if, nel futuro, you see alcune parole in italiano.
So how does all this relate to Chamber Music Midwest? On the most basic level: program notes. Better. Program. Notes. Excited? On a less literal level, I'd suggest that "annihilating passive voices" is central to Chamber Music Midwest's mission. I strive to make the festival about active participation (dare I say "voices") for both audience and performer--a goal I intend to further realize next season with performances from Grapefruit and pre- and post-concert activities. Sarà meravigloso!
Not totally unrelated, I am presently resurrecting my Italian. As my studies progress, I find that my knowledge of English grammar (re)gains lucidity: the components of language vivify and solidify. Even as I write this little flurry, my mind fills with thoughts of tenses, subjects, verbs, direct objects...exhilarating! Don't be surprised if, nel futuro, you see alcune parole in italiano.
So how does all this relate to Chamber Music Midwest? On the most basic level: program notes. Better. Program. Notes. Excited? On a less literal level, I'd suggest that "annihilating passive voices" is central to Chamber Music Midwest's mission. I strive to make the festival about active participation (dare I say "voices") for both audience and performer--a goal I intend to further realize next season with performances from Grapefruit and pre- and post-concert activities. Sarà meravigloso!
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
my friend + yours, erwin schrodinger
I'd like to take this opportunity to discuss something near and dear to my heart. I was recently reminded of Erwin Schrodinger's [1] text on philosophy and metaphysics, My View of the World; I thought I might share some of his work and my interpretations with you.
I began grad school this winter, and by mere chance, I picked up the aforementioned text and started to read. Finding Schrodinger’s interpretation of historical conditioning and ancestral memory profoundly influential I began to apply his ideas to other facets of my still-superficial inquiries. Obviously, I have a great deal more to read and learn, but the instinct is that Schrodinger's conditioning in congress with Riegl's kunstwollen* could be very powerful tools in discussing some of the more...challenging...pieces we're looking at programming next year (I'm talkin' Fluxus). But I digress, and that is another post for another evening.
Primarily addressing issues of metaphysics and consciousness, one of Schrodinger's more resonant ideas seeks to illuminate for the reader the notion of ancestral memory, specifically the idea that a single person carries with them the attitudes and experiences of their ancestors. In typically poetic fashion, Schrodinger writes: “…each of these bodies was at the same time blueprint, builder and material for the next one, so that a part of it grew into a copy of itself.” Indeed, “no self stands alone.”[2] There is so much more. It is pretty great.
I recently wrote a "thoughts and feelings" piece on some of this stuff, but it was essentially puff. At some point, I'd really like to put some of these things into motion, specifically this type of historical conditioning and its relationship to aesthetics. Someday. For now, I'd say go read Schrodinger. It is a quick little read, but one of the most inspirational texts I've come across in quite some time. I wouldn't be surprised if his name comes up again between now and then.
[1] A quantum physicist of the early twentieth century, Schrodinger’s famous experiment, the so called cat-in-the-box is articulated here, by the ever-reliable source of scholarly import, Wikipedia. It'll do.
* Excerpt via a bastion of veracity and knowledge (Wikipedia):
"All human will is directed toward a satisfactory shaping of man's relationship to the world, within and beyond the individual. The plastic Kunstwollen regulates man's relationship to the sensibly perceptible appearance of things. Art expresses the way man wants to see things shaped or colored, just as the poetic Kunstwollen expreses the way man wants to imagine them. Man is not only a passive, sensory recipient, but also a desiring, active being who wishes to interpret the world in such a way (varying from one people, region, or epoch to another) that it most clearly and obligingly meets his desires. The character of this will is contained in what we call the worldview (again in the broadest sense): in religion, philosophy, science, even statecraft and law." (1) Essentially, Riegl's kunstwollen offers a new model to understand and "value" art. Rejecting the notion that the "best" art is naturalistic, Riegl suggests that the success of an artistic representation lies in its ability to express the so-called spirit of the times. What is particularly great about Riegl is that he is really making space for non-western art forms by allowing for the "worldview" to inform the way in which the art-object is conceived and subsequently read. Riegl is another one of those people about which I could write virtual page after virtual page. For now, the aforesaid distillation will have to do. As I intimated in the above text, I believe his theories to be extremely useful in looking at various art forms of the 20th century.
(1) Tr. C.S. Wood, The Vienna School reader: politics and art historical method in the 1930s (New York, 2000), 94-95
I began grad school this winter, and by mere chance, I picked up the aforementioned text and started to read. Finding Schrodinger’s interpretation of historical conditioning and ancestral memory profoundly influential I began to apply his ideas to other facets of my still-superficial inquiries. Obviously, I have a great deal more to read and learn, but the instinct is that Schrodinger's conditioning in congress with Riegl's kunstwollen* could be very powerful tools in discussing some of the more...challenging...pieces we're looking at programming next year (I'm talkin' Fluxus). But I digress, and that is another post for another evening.
Primarily addressing issues of metaphysics and consciousness, one of Schrodinger's more resonant ideas seeks to illuminate for the reader the notion of ancestral memory, specifically the idea that a single person carries with them the attitudes and experiences of their ancestors. In typically poetic fashion, Schrodinger writes: “…each of these bodies was at the same time blueprint, builder and material for the next one, so that a part of it grew into a copy of itself.” Indeed, “no self stands alone.”[2] There is so much more. It is pretty great.
I recently wrote a "thoughts and feelings" piece on some of this stuff, but it was essentially puff. At some point, I'd really like to put some of these things into motion, specifically this type of historical conditioning and its relationship to aesthetics. Someday. For now, I'd say go read Schrodinger. It is a quick little read, but one of the most inspirational texts I've come across in quite some time. I wouldn't be surprised if his name comes up again between now and then.
[1] A quantum physicist of the early twentieth century, Schrodinger’s famous experiment, the so called cat-in-the-box is articulated here, by the ever-reliable source of scholarly import, Wikipedia. It'll do.
* Excerpt via a bastion of veracity and knowledge (Wikipedia):
"All human will is directed toward a satisfactory shaping of man's relationship to the world, within and beyond the individual. The plastic Kunstwollen regulates man's relationship to the sensibly perceptible appearance of things. Art expresses the way man wants to see things shaped or colored, just as the poetic Kunstwollen expreses the way man wants to imagine them. Man is not only a passive, sensory recipient, but also a desiring, active being who wishes to interpret the world in such a way (varying from one people, region, or epoch to another) that it most clearly and obligingly meets his desires. The character of this will is contained in what we call the worldview (again in the broadest sense): in religion, philosophy, science, even statecraft and law." (1) Essentially, Riegl's kunstwollen offers a new model to understand and "value" art. Rejecting the notion that the "best" art is naturalistic, Riegl suggests that the success of an artistic representation lies in its ability to express the so-called spirit of the times. What is particularly great about Riegl is that he is really making space for non-western art forms by allowing for the "worldview" to inform the way in which the art-object is conceived and subsequently read. Riegl is another one of those people about which I could write virtual page after virtual page. For now, the aforesaid distillation will have to do. As I intimated in the above text, I believe his theories to be extremely useful in looking at various art forms of the 20th century.
(1) Tr. C.S. Wood, The Vienna School reader: politics and art historical method in the 1930s (New York, 2000), 94-95
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
yoko, oh no!
The great thing about having your own music festival is that you can entertain ideas like programming Ono's Cut Piece. For our immediate future, this is completely not feasible. Let us all take a moment to imagine what it would be like if I performed Cut Piece--wherein the audience cuts off the performer's clothing until she/he is naked (or nearly so)--at First Lutheran Church of New Richmond. Right. It basically goes without saying that this would not be an option. However, I like the idea of programming some of Ono's works (how very conceptual of me!). Until recently, I'd been largely (though admittedly unjustifiably) an Ono naysayer, but taking an open and unbiased look at Cut Piece and the rest of her Fluxus-era oeuvre has completely turned me around. There are a few common themes running through much of her work that fit neatly with our mission statement, the most pertinent being the concept of the gift and the idea of audience participation. There is quite a bit more to say about Cut Piece and the rest of Ono's continually expanding oeuvre, for now I'll just include a video of the 1965 Carnegie Hall performance...
Notice the disturbing pace at which the piece progresses; the carelessness of the audience. There is something deeply unsettling about the performer/participant dynamic: something violent, disrespectful, and crass. Indeed, much more to say...
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
a successful conclusion + an exciting future
I've said before that this season was "the best ever" and in its already fading wake, I can say that indeed it was. The performances were polished and captivating, and our audience base has grown considerably. Seeing children and young families at our last concert, I realized that slowly but surely, we are beginning to achieve the goals set out in our mission statement. And, we received a standing ovation on Saturday! How cool is that?!
So. On to season four: Poetics(!). The subtitle has several layers of meaning, one of which is a reference to Aristotle's Poetics. I've been looking quite a bit at the text recently and the way diverse artistic movements interact with it over time. Of course it is referenced in the Enlightenment, but I was reading Greenberg's mid 20th century essay, Art and Kitsch, today and there was a reference to imitation "in the Aristotelian sense." Aristotle, in response to Plato, is primarily concerned with the problem of mimesis in art. Is imitation good? Is it bad? How does it operate within an artwork, and what does that mean for the artist? In addition to these basic questions, there are innumerable issues that arise from the discussion. I find myself drawn to the problematic relationship of Poetics with a contemporary society that no longer reads the classics: on the whole, the citizens of the world are unaware of the text, yet its prevalence in Western culture until this moment subtly shapes our own concept of what is "good" and "bad" in the arts. Mimesis is easy; abstraction is not. My current contention is that this attitude has been a part of our historical conditioning and thus results in a phenomenon I like to think of as "pre-conditioned taste." I have a lot more books to read and ideas to explore over the next year (obviously), but I'd like this discussion to be a part of CMM4. From the start, CMM has championed music that is perhaps more challenging to the ear than Mozart, Bach, et al. and I think the above discussion is REALLY helpful for looking at this stuff: if we are cognizant of our historical conditioning (ie preconditioned taste), we can understand it and eventually move beyond it. That is to say, things like Mark Rothko won't seem so "meaningless" (the old, "my kid could do that!" argument); Schoenberg's imitation will gain clarity.
The above is just one facet of next season, the more obvious one is music and text. We're talkin' song cycles people. I'm completely nuts for the art song, and if we're going to discuss mimesis, there is not a better place to start than so-called "word painting." We're looking at Schoenberg's Book of the Hanging Gardens (!!!!!), any number of cycles/songs by Schubert, Schumann, Debussy, Ravel...the list goes on. It would fulfill a dream of mine to program and perform Pierrot Lunaire, but we'll see.
Lastly, I'll mention that we're hoping to program some Helmut Lachenmann. From what I've listened to, his music is not at all mimetic, in that it is like nothing I have ever heard before. The Kinderspiel, for example, explore sonic possibilities of the piano in the same way that Pollock explores the possibilities of raw materials (house paint, for example). I could certainly see where Lachenmann's music would be threatening to the American musical avant-garde (such as it is); I'm recalling something James Dillon (an advocate of Lachenmann, and another excellent composer) once said to me about Lachenmann's reception in the US. If I am remembering correctly, Dillon implied that Lachenmann was perceived by the US as a "de-composer" in that by redefining the means by which classical instruments were to be used, he was writing "anti-music." The pejorative connotation of these statements ought not to be ignored; it is a real shame, actually, as I think the music is quite good. Below is a video of Kinderspiel as played by pianist Seda Roeder. When you listen, try to notice all the sounds--in these pieces the residual is just as important (if not more so) as the initial sound. Though I must say, as wonderful as YouTube is for this sort of thing, to fully appreciate these pieces, you really have to hear them live (enter CMM4....).
So. On to season four: Poetics(!). The subtitle has several layers of meaning, one of which is a reference to Aristotle's Poetics. I've been looking quite a bit at the text recently and the way diverse artistic movements interact with it over time. Of course it is referenced in the Enlightenment, but I was reading Greenberg's mid 20th century essay, Art and Kitsch, today and there was a reference to imitation "in the Aristotelian sense." Aristotle, in response to Plato, is primarily concerned with the problem of mimesis in art. Is imitation good? Is it bad? How does it operate within an artwork, and what does that mean for the artist? In addition to these basic questions, there are innumerable issues that arise from the discussion. I find myself drawn to the problematic relationship of Poetics with a contemporary society that no longer reads the classics: on the whole, the citizens of the world are unaware of the text, yet its prevalence in Western culture until this moment subtly shapes our own concept of what is "good" and "bad" in the arts. Mimesis is easy; abstraction is not. My current contention is that this attitude has been a part of our historical conditioning and thus results in a phenomenon I like to think of as "pre-conditioned taste." I have a lot more books to read and ideas to explore over the next year (obviously), but I'd like this discussion to be a part of CMM4. From the start, CMM has championed music that is perhaps more challenging to the ear than Mozart, Bach, et al. and I think the above discussion is REALLY helpful for looking at this stuff: if we are cognizant of our historical conditioning (ie preconditioned taste), we can understand it and eventually move beyond it. That is to say, things like Mark Rothko won't seem so "meaningless" (the old, "my kid could do that!" argument); Schoenberg's imitation will gain clarity.
The above is just one facet of next season, the more obvious one is music and text. We're talkin' song cycles people. I'm completely nuts for the art song, and if we're going to discuss mimesis, there is not a better place to start than so-called "word painting." We're looking at Schoenberg's Book of the Hanging Gardens (!!!!!), any number of cycles/songs by Schubert, Schumann, Debussy, Ravel...the list goes on. It would fulfill a dream of mine to program and perform Pierrot Lunaire, but we'll see.
Lastly, I'll mention that we're hoping to program some Helmut Lachenmann. From what I've listened to, his music is not at all mimetic, in that it is like nothing I have ever heard before. The Kinderspiel, for example, explore sonic possibilities of the piano in the same way that Pollock explores the possibilities of raw materials (house paint, for example). I could certainly see where Lachenmann's music would be threatening to the American musical avant-garde (such as it is); I'm recalling something James Dillon (an advocate of Lachenmann, and another excellent composer) once said to me about Lachenmann's reception in the US. If I am remembering correctly, Dillon implied that Lachenmann was perceived by the US as a "de-composer" in that by redefining the means by which classical instruments were to be used, he was writing "anti-music." The pejorative connotation of these statements ought not to be ignored; it is a real shame, actually, as I think the music is quite good. Below is a video of Kinderspiel as played by pianist Seda Roeder. When you listen, try to notice all the sounds--in these pieces the residual is just as important (if not more so) as the initial sound. Though I must say, as wonderful as YouTube is for this sort of thing, to fully appreciate these pieces, you really have to hear them live (enter CMM4....).
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