Author Archives: emily black

After a series of performances by professional musicians, it seemed fitting to end my semester in Music 326 by watching a concert filled with young music students, just like myself. This is why I attended the Chamber Music Gamut put on by the UBC School of Music on March 29th. While I am pursuing a different degree, I saw in them my love for music, dedication to my craft, and even their room for improvement sometimes. It was an interesting glimpse into another career path: what if I had auditioned for music school? While undoubtedly more stressful than my current degree, the students all seemed so joyful on stage. I suppose that version of my life is one I will never experience, but always wonder about wistfully.

Interestingly, many of the composers featured in this concert were from the late classical period and beyond. I know that Mozart and many other composers before this time composed duets and chamber music, however I wonder if the technicality and refinement required for these pieces didn’t give the performers enough time to learn them before the concert. Never the less, many of the pieces still possessed refinement and musicality despite being written in periods of experimentation and exploration. One particular piece that stood out to me was “The Year’s at the Spring”, by 20^th century composer Amy Beach. The pianist, Gabriel Landstedt, intentionally made the piano loud and boisterous to support the slight soprano, Tessa Waddell, as she excitedly announced the arrival of spring to the forest. The effect was one of the beauty and delicacy of spring, but also its loud, colourful arrival! I also appreciate Waddell’s commitment to her craft: her long, flower embroidered dress really lent itself to the song!

I also thoroughly enjoyed Rachel Kwok and Michael Dobko’s Sonata in A major, mvt. 2, by Cesar Frank. What I didn’t notice until after the concert was that the first movement had already been played at the very beginning of the concert by Emily Richardson on the flute! Kwok’s tone on her violin was beautiful, and perfectly contrasted the frenzied allegro Frank composed for his second movement. She kept the spirit of the romanticism, but used a fiery approach that stood out from the broodings of the piano behind her. Speaking of which, Michael Dobko worked very hard to ensure every nuance and rubato was perfectly in sync: you could see him watching Kwok like a hawk to make sure that every note was on point! Both of them worked really hard to give a professional-sounding performance and very clearly understood the origins of the piece.

What was so interesting about this concert is unlike the others, the performers were not perfect (or near perfect). As a musician myself I completely understand: sometimes you don’t have enough time to perfect that difficult passage, or master your tone in the section with all the high notes. That’s what made this concert interesting: you were on the edge of your seat, excited to hear what the next performers had to offer and experience their learning process with them. But, that’s not to say the concert wasn’t a success. Each of the performers were wonderful and professional, and obviously they all have very bright futures ahead of them judging by their talent and musicality. Congrats to my peers, and I look forward to watching you go forth into the world of music.

As a final conclusion to my rather humorous set of concert journals, I thought I would do an informative paragraph on one of the best musical jokes of all time, the “Faerie’s Aire and Death Waltz” by John Stump. To the untrained eye, it looks as if it is a highly complex piano score, but look a little closer.

I’ll leave it to you to find the tidbits hidden in the score.

If you’re curious what this sounds like, you can listen to this computer simulated version, at your own peril.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n-Ai8BSCzpo

Cheers!

Emily

Mozart’s music is always superbly entertaining and elegant, and it was executed brilliantly by the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra playing three of his symphonies, directed by Otto Tausk on Friday, March 22nd. As these were Mozart’s last three symphonies, they were arguably composed at the height of his prowess, supported by the fact that two of them, No. 40 and No. 41 are some of his most well-known and renowned.

I hadn’t heard Symphony No. 39 before, so I was excited to begin the concert with something new. The program notes told us that the oboes had been omitted from the orchestra for this symphony which lent the music a mellow sound. This gave the symphony greater contrast to the other two than I would have thought; it sounded more demure without the brightness of the oboe. The first movement was fast, but elegant and refined, with moments of excitement but dominated by flowing major melodies in the violins and woodwinds.  The second movement was slow and shifted from major to minor variations on a theme. This contrast in music, important in the “pleasing variety” principle of the classical period, is prominent in the third movement of this symphony. The minuet has an elegant dance-like quality, while the trio uses the clarinet to give it a rustic sound. The final movement is quick and relentless, but finds moments to introduce quips by instruments and drama to give it the same impact as the overture to the Magic Flute (it certainly helps that the two are in the same key!).

It was so interesting to hear Symphony No. 40 performed live, especially after we had studied it in the classroom. It gave a completely different effect than the other two by setting Mozart’s characteristic style in an unsettled and breathless way. You could almost hear the audience “gasping” along to theme A! Mozart offsets this effect with the lyrical theme B, which is a relief from the “strum und drang” of the theme A, but doesn’t last for long until a drifting development fragments theme A into a variety of keys, never settling until the recapitulation. The second movement is slow and placid, in a major key but not embracing the joyful feeling Mozart usually evokes. He continues the “sturm und drang”effect in the minuet and trio, completely removed from the style of the other two symphonies in a driving triple meter and complex minor melody in the violins. The trio relaxes slightly, modulating into a major mode with lovely duets in the French Horns, giving an aura of regalness. The final movement has a whirlwind theme in the strings and brass, like the angry splutters of an old man. This disgruntled insistence persists to the end, bringing back the whirlwind theme, which is now rather fragmented, into a frantic cadence solidifying the minor mode, and general gloom of the piece.

Symphony No. 41 in C major, nicknamed “Jupiter”, is just as powerful and magical as the god who gives it his namesake. It begins with three strong notes, first on the tonic and then the dominant, separated by lyrical violin motifs. We are immediately are taken into the excitement of the exposition, in which the timpani heightens the drama of the music. This is equally contrasted by a timid, uncertain B theme. Throughout the first movement, there is an undeniable forcefulness that is either bursting through the orchestra, or lurking behind the scenes. The second movement doesn’t include the timpani and trumpet featured so prominently in the first movement, and is demure and melodic. A lively trio sets the scene before the fourth and final movement, which is rapid, exciting, and has a sense of urgency and tension despite its major mode. This is aided in the effect of rapid motives in the strings, and clever use of counterpoint to create a final, grand resolution, featuring timpani and brass heavily and showing off the grandeur of the orchestra.

Overall, I had a great time at the VSO hearing these pieces. Mozart’s style was evident throughout, but there was so much contrast in the works that it showcased his genius and breadth. As a side note, the VSO double booked our seats- sorry to the poor ladies who were forced to sit in the back row. I promise, no black-market tickets here! (They were, in fact, double checked for authenticity…)

Since it’s finals season….

When I first heard about Jose Franch-Ballester and Jane Coop’s clarinet/piano concert, I was sure that they would be performing concertos and ensemble pieces. No way there could be enough clarinet/piano duets by recognized composers to comprise a whole program! But, soon I realized, just like many of the composers featured in this concert, that the piano and clarinet make an excellent pair, with the ability to showcase personality and virtuosity together in harmony. I was surprised by the breadth of the works featured. Weber and Brahms used typical sonata style with impassioned, bold melodies spanning classical and romantic works, while Stanford and Berg offered some intriguing modern takes on the classical-esque timbre of the duo. To close, they finished with an encore of a wild modern piece whose composer escapes me, but left the audience invigorated and amused by the concert as a whole.

Jose Franch-Ballester and Jane Coop couldn’t have been more different in their stage presences. Franch-Ballester appeared to be constantly smiling, even with his clarinet pressed to his lips! He swayed and paced, shook his head with the music, and even caused some chuckles in the audience when he reached a particularly joyful passage of music and practically jumped up and down! His enthusiasm for the music was infectious and showed his clear dedication to conveying its meaning. Jane Coop, on the other hand, took on the role of the bemused accompanist; her demure and solemn stage presence allowed Franch-Ballester to shine, but she wasn’t afraid to showcase her obvious skill when the music called for it. This stage dynamic reflected the character of the music itself: often, the music portrayed the clarinet as the emotional, excitable voice of the piece, with the piano as a grounding accompaniment in the background, dutifully following the clarinet but not afraid to allow some of its character to shine through.

Each piece was remarkably different, and evoked a completely different emotion and style. Stanford’s Three Intermezzi recalled the joking character of these operatic interludes, clearly shown in the allegro agitato using shrill tones in the clarinet and accented two-note slurs. Stanford also coupled this effect with a lyrical and reflective style (especially evident in the andante espressivo).

The Grand Duo Concertant by Carl Von Weber clearly evokes the structure and elegance of the classical period with a 3-movement sonata-style piece. Its melodies are clear, with a lighthearted character and moments of serenity, and the sonata form in the first moment could be clearly discerned.

A complete contrast, Berg’s Four Pieces for clarinet and piano experimented with atonality and clarinet tone to give a radical new take on these two highly classical-sounding instruments. And yet, despite all this experimentation, the piece was not harsh or brash, but rather showcased the clarinet’s smooth and mellow tone by pairing it with an unexpected melody. Rather unsettling in the composition is that the pieces never seemed to come to a clear end- one was almost a continuation of the other after a small pause. Unsurprisingly, these pieces were an attempt of Berg’s to evoke Schoenberg- although the latter harshly criticized the piece, much to Berg’s dismay!

I thought ending with the Brahms Sonata No. 1 was an excellent choice: it was an evocative and emotional performance, and combined so many of the best traits of the Romantic Period: drama, lyrical melody, and rich harmonies that entrance the listener. These rich harmonies allowed the piano to shine, as the clarinet could soar with the melody while the piano coloured the background with an equally beautiful accompaniment. The final movement, vivace, was a lively closing, which ended dramatically with clarinet arpeggios and a strong cadence- which led to Franch-Ballester practically throwing his clarinet in the air as he enthusiastically concluded the concert!

I was pleasantly surprised by the breadth of the music showcased at this concert, as well as how well the clarinet and piano worked together to create rich and lyrical music. It was entertaining and eye-opening, and made me more curious to look into interesting instrumental arrangements from my favorite composers. As always, a final concluding thought- not technically a joke from this concert, but too good to resist….

Titled: If Wagner owned a laundromat

The movie “The Favourite”, directed by Yorgos Lanthimos, is a period drama/comedy set in 18^th century England. The monarch at the time, Queen Anne, has a close relationship with her friend and lover Sarah Churchill, until the arrival of Sarah’s cousin Abigail causes the two women to vie for the position of the Queen’s right hand. Blackmail, schemes, and secrets pit the two against each other, but the temper and elitism of the Queen begs the question: if you earn the Queen’s favour, have you really won the battle? While there is a comedic touch to the plot, it has many dark and unsettling moments, which are enhanced by the classically inspired, but haunting soundtrack compiled by Johnnie Burn. A mix of 20^th century compositions and well-known Baroque and Classical works, this movie walks the line between a historically accurate piece and modern entertainment.

Selections from the time period of Queen Anne’s reign, 1702-1707, include works by J.S. Bach, W.F. Bach, Handel, Vivaldi, and Purcell. Much of this music is heard as background music to the plot: most notably, Handel’s Concerto Grosso in B-flat major, HWV 325. This piece was also used in the trailer to give a hurried and anxious, yet noble and stately atmosphere. This is akin to the rest of the period music used in the movie: it gives the aura of the nobility, and yet is always somewhat unsettling because of its deliberate form in comparison to the strange, messy, and sometimes horrific scenes occurring on screen. There are two notable times we encounter music being played as a part of the plot. First, Anne observes a small group of instruments playing music in the courtyard, the piece I couldn’t identify as my rental for the movie expired by the time I am writing this. However, it was a piece for a small group of strings, had the characteristics of Baroque instrumental music at the time, and was organized by what appeared to be a composer sharing a remarkable resemblance to Handel (even though he was not technically employed by Queen Anne at the time the movie is set). In another scene, Sarah storms into a chamber where the members of the royal court are watching an opera singer perform, accompanied by a harpsichord. An opera singer is performing “Music for a While”, an English language aria from Purcell’s incidental music for the English adaptation of Oedipus. If the audience listens carefully, its meaning in regards to the movie becomes clear: all is well, while the music plays, but a vengeful and angry reckoning is on its way (in this case, a furious Sarah mauled by an ordeal in the forest, come to seek revenge on Abigail for stealing her position).

While the period music is slightly unsettling in its usage, the 20^th century music is downright shudder-inducing. While watching this movie with my parents, they both commented that at some points the avant-garde music was almost unbearable, not because of its atonality but simply because of how unnerving it is! This is most clearly evident in Luc Ferrari’s “Didascalies”, which is a myriad of tones played on piano, violin, and electronic synthesizer which is unlike any other music being performed today. The singular repeated G on the viola, used often in the movie, gets louder and louder until one couldn’t even focus on the dialogue, you were so unnerved by this music. It added significantly to the off-kilter, unsettling atmosphere that the movie wanted to create by literally driving the audience up the wall with the soundtrack!

Overall, while The Favourite was a little eclectic for my typical movie taste, I appreciated the choices Johnnie Burns made for the soundtrack. He balanced memorable and period-appropriate Baroque and Classical music with the atmospheric effect of 20^th century music, which made the intention of the film clear. While I wouldn’t likely watch it again, mostly because of the ending (hint: a one-minute overlay of rabbits over the sad faces of Emma Stone and Olivia Coleman), I very much appreciated its artistic intent.

As a final note,

On Friday, February 1^st, I was treated to the wonderful performance of “Die Zaberflaute”, or “The Magic Flute” by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart performed by the UBC Opera. Having seen this opera put on by a professional company in Calgary, I was slightly apprehensive that I would be seeing an “amateur” version, not at the same level of the company I had seen before. However, I was floored by the dedication and talent of the singers, and was constantly surprised by the caliber to which every aspect of the show was held to. The acting was believable and dynamic, while the singing was practically flawless! Having brought my friend who had never seen an opera before, I was glad her first experience was so well executed and look forward to future performances put on by UBC opera.

Having seen this opera before and studied it through the Royal Conservatory, it was a different experience seeing it as a teacher for my friend rather than a student. My friend, who had never seen an opera, had so many questions (“why is it in German?” “what’s up with the subtitles?” “is there even a story?”). But, in my perusing of texts to give her an accurate history of the opera, I discovered some interesting new facts which enriched her, and my own experience. For instance, Mozart composed the vocal music for the characters based on the singing abilities of the original actors; for example, Papageno’s solos are always doubled by an instrument since the actor who played him wasn’t trained much as a singer. As well, Mozart was an active member of the freemasons: much of the symbolism of Sarastro’s kingdom and the ideas he preached were taken from freemason doctrine.

What consistently astounds me about this opera, and Mozart’s work in general, is its ability to be musically complex and thoughtfully composed while still being accessible for the audience. Mozart’s use of homophony, clear and poignant melody, and the understated style of the classical period in a magical fantasy world parallels the situation of the characters themselves: battling beasts and witches, and yet facing situations that are easy for us to relate to such as pursuing love, a lack of self-confidence, and trying to please the in-laws! This is not to say, however, that the compositions are at all mundane: the virtuosity demonstrated by Sarastro and The Queen of the Night is dizzying, while the staccato motif in Papageno and Papagena’s love duet is almost as humorous as the characters themselves! As my former music teacher used to comment, “Mozart is the only person who could write about (the Queen of the Night’s) seething, all-consuming rage in a major key.”

One particular part of the opera which had previously evaded my interest was the overture. Upon listening to it the second time, I noticed that it contained very little of the thematic material from the opera itself, but rather evokes both the solemn, contemplative nature of Sarastro’s kingdom in the chords of the first measures, and the humorous, jolly character typical of an opera buffa in the fast-paced inner section. The overture evokes a sonata-allegro form, a common style for orchestral music in the classical period, with an exposition using repetition of an exciting violin theme, and a development with minor variations and new settings of the theme on different instruments. But again, at the heart of Mozart’s meticulous attention to detail, the overture captures the whimsy, bravado, and lightheartedness of the opera to come.

Overall, my experience at UBC’s production of the Magic Flute was exceptional, and reminded me how much I love to see music that inspires joy, sadness, and even laughter! Kudos to all singers and instrumentalists involved, it was truly an exceptional night.

P.S. on a less serious note…