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Posts Tagged ‘Beethoven’

Day 157. Toscanini.

Tuesday, November 9th, 2010

I think I am finally going to have to accept the fact that daily blog posts are a thing of the past for me. On one hand, work is keeping me so busy (and often into the night). On another, I have gotten little of my own composing done over the past few weeks. Part of me is bummed about this, but there is another aspect at play as well. As more and more of the CDs disappear from the front layer of shelves, more and more from the back are being pulled down for ripping. The quality of the discs here is still better then average for the most part, but there are lots of discs back here that, while I have listened and enjoyed them, they don’t necessarily bring up strong memories or personal history. I glanced over the blog as a whole a bit this past week and I have come across some strong memories that seem to be with me almost every day, and I also noticed that I have ‘found’ memories that I thought were lost (and now returned because of this project). I’m sure those aren’t done, but I am also sure at this point that they will be occurring with less frequency.

For me, starting this project almost a year ago was a needed distraction for what was a difficult time for Tamiko and me. Not between us, but due to situations in our lives that were, at the time, beyond our control in many ways. The blog provided some welcome distraction, and the enormity of the project itself gave me a positive outlet for some not always so positive energy. It also gave me focus on my life, family and one of the things that make me happiest in the world (music) at a time when lots of negative energy was flowing our way. I think this outlet for me helped me protect my girls from some of the negative that was hitting us and affecting me greatly at times.

Plus, there is just more music in the house now. Not that there wasn’t before, but the variety has grown considerably. Tamiko and I now have something different on every night as we wind down like we did when we first moved in together, Mira is discovering new ‘pretty music’ all the time and Celia and I start our evening reading with a new composer or musician just about every night. It’s pretty amazing how I have found something so great as a result of such a difficult situation (but, that is just how it goes sometimes).

Anyways, on to some music, and tonight I have been working on a stack of 11 2-Disc sets… the Toscanini / NBC Symphony Orchestra remastered and cleaned up sets the RCA put out in the late 90s. 6 discs of Beethoven, the pairs of discs covering quite a bit of the symphonic repertoire. All in mono. And while these are old recordings, it is remarkable how dynamic they are. I love watching videos of Toscanini conducting, and an image of him ‘shhhshing’ his orchestra almost always comes to mind (my friend Colin was able to do a wonderful imitation of this). It strikes me that Toscanini new that there was really a maximum of loud that you could get out of an orchestra, but with enough coaxing you could always get people to play a little quieter. This makes the louder parts seem more so by contrast, and this led to a large number of very dynamic recordings at a time when the technology in use was still quite limited.

Toscanini’s interpretations are seen by many people, especially today, as a bit off. I tend to find them a bit operatic, and sometimes overly dramatic. I don’t really have a problem with this, and like Glenn Gould I think that what you are getting is Toscanini performing a piece rather then just the piece itself. I wouldn’t suggest any of his recordings as the way to get to know a work (same with Gould – do NOT listen to the Gould ‘Goldberg Variations’ as the first version you listen to). Both are performers that you should go to once you know a piece pretty well. THEN – they are excellent examples of what great musicians can do with the art of interpretation. As I listen right now to Beethoven’s Seventh, I feel like I have a good idea about what is Toscanini and what is Beethoven. And the two are having a great conversation. It is my like I am having a seance as I listen to the ghosts of these two musicians play with each other… truly a treat.

Day 120. Beethoven and Marais.

Wednesday, June 30th, 2010

I’ve had little time to properly rip some discs the past couple of days. Busy working on finishing up a recording project, and today was also Celia’s 5th birthday. We started the morning out with ‘Birthday’ by The Beatles (don’t think she would like the Sugarcubes as much yet, though I might be surprised). I’ve also been making sure to keep up on some exercise, and I will be releasing a small piece of software soon that accesses your iTunes library, and let’s you make mixes that are keyed to your running pattern. I’ve been running / walking to Led Zeppelin the past couple weeks, and for the most part it works nicely. Though some tunes a poor choices in hindsight. ‘Achille’s Last Stand’ is fine for running AFTER the first 40 seconds of fade in droning guitar. ‘When The Levee Breaks’ = worst running song ever??? But the best cool down song is five minutes of walking home to ‘The Lemon Song’ and playing air bass.

So I went ahead and added some purchases from the past couple of months tonight. These included a couple discs of music for viols by Marin Marais and Pollini and Abbado’s set of Beethoven piano concertos. The Marais is wonderful music, and can sound quite different to ears that haven’t heard much viol music. The viol (viola da gamba and friends) has a more nasally sound, not quite as resonant as the cello. It also is a little slower to speak. Much of the music also tends to have longer, more sweeping lines (this is a generality I probably shouldn’t make, but I think most people who have heard music for viols would probably agree with me that this is the music it played best), and can be very lyrical and emotional. One of this discs though is a set of suites, and some of it really moves. Some of the articulations (which even survived in French music to the present day) are quite snappy, even surprising after hearing such long drawn out attacks in slower movements.

The Pollini set was a big surprise to me. I don’t dislike his solo Beethoven sonata recordings, but don’t really like them much either. Mostly, I was indifferent about them. But the concerto recordings were done close to 20 years after the other recordings, and as a pianist Pollini has grown amazingly. He may be one of the best living pianists today. And Abbado, as he was nearing the end of his time with Berlin, had also grown and learned probably as much from working with such an amazing orchestra as they learned from him. These recordings are wonderful pretty much all around. I’m going to throw on the fourth concerto right now I think before I go to bed… or maybe the middle movement of the ‘Emperor’. Either way, I know it will be a good way to end the night.

Day 117. Buxtehude (and finally getting around to Beethoven and Bach)

Friday, June 25th, 2010

Not much time for ripping CDs tonight (still catching up from the other night actually), so I am throwing onto the computer a couple of collections I have purchased over the past year. They are two (that’s right, two) COMPLETE sets of the organ work of Buxtehude. Why two? A couple reasons… first, they are both played quite well (Rene Saorgin and Ulrik Spang-Hanssen are the two players) and one of the fun things about organ music is how different performances can be just based on tone color. Organists often prepare pieces with their own choices for stops, and one thing I like to do is hear the same piece played by two different players to see what they do with it. And if that isn’t geeky enough, I also like to hear what different organs sound like.  More then just about any other instrument, the organ can be likened to modern day astronomy. When you look at stars, you are seeing what they looked like in the past, and with organs, you get one of the few instruments that really holds their original quality. You can get a sense of how different areas used different tuning systems, and you also get an instrument that, more then any other, needs an entire building as its resonating body. So there can be big differences between performances and recordings.

Of course, some of the same things can be said about just about any recording of classical music. And if you start to throw in jazz standards, live rock recordings and covers, it really can be said about all music. Music can and should be performed by many people many times. It was always a little disheartening to me when people would come in and ask for ‘the best recording of blah blah blah’. There is no best recording, but here… take five recordings and see if you can figure out what it is about a piece that makes it what it is. It’s hard in some ways, but very fun as well. I completely understand the want for the best recording of something though, especially if you are just starting to explore a genre and want to get the best impression possible. Plus, the whole endeavor is expensive. I was very fortunate to be in a situation where I was given a large part of my collection, and the parts I did have to buy were discounted. But for the customer wanting just ‘the best’,  I’m not really sure if such things exist. What I do know is that whatever recording you hear first, for the most part that is how you will learn most of a piece, and you will judge all other recordings  and performances based on those impressions (so in some ways get any version, and for the time being you will think it is the best version of the piece around).

Now – getting a group of people together who do know a work and multiple versions of it is lots of fun… there is argument and agreement, and the quibbling over details small and large. And these kinds of conversations really made up usually about a quarter of any given shift working in the classical room at Tower in Berkeley (where there were usually a few customers who came in for an hour here and there throughout the week). They were a blast. And I learned a lot about music this way. I learned a lot about what people listen for, and in turn what I could or should listen for. It was some of the best ear training I had while earning my music degree, and it certainly shaped how I think as a composer.

If you have been reading my entries here and there, the idea of two complete Buxtehude sets probably isn’t really that far-fetched. Especially considering that I also ripped my third (of five I think?) set of Beethoven symphonies as well (the John Eliot Gardiner set) and Anner Bylsma’s second set of Bach cello suites (on Sony). I think I have six versions of the cello suites – and on top of that, I know at least two of those are by Anner Bylsma! It fun to hear the differences between the two Bylsma sets (surprising even!) but if you are familiar with Beethoven’s symphonies and haven’t heard Gardiner’s recordings, I really recommend you grab at least one of them to listen to. The fifth will sound like a new piece to you, but if I had to choose one, I’d say give the third a listen. The playing is extremely precise (a little cold even in parts), but the tempos (very strictly the ones Beethoven marked down later in life) and the use of period instruments make these sound quite different then the large, romantic orchestral performances that were the norm of the 40s and 50s. In other words, this isn’t your grandfather’s  Klemperer or Furtwangler. And while in some ways, these period instrument recordings would seem to owe quite a bit to the early 19th century, they are also the product of musicians who have probably seen more then their share of modern scores. Dynamic range seems a bit exaggerated at times, but it works very well with this music. In some ways, it took a group playing instruments that are two hundred years old to make Beethoven sound new again, and overall the results are great fun. I just wouldn’t recommend them to someone as the first set of symphonies to hear.

Day 116. Arvo Pärt, Beethoven and Bach.

Wednesday, June 23rd, 2010

Tonight I grabbed a stack of Arvo Pärt, along with another set of Beethoven symphonies (the Gardiner box or rad) and Anner Bylsma’s second set of Bach cello suites. Still ripping the Beethoven and the Bach, but they will be fun to have on.

Arvo Pärt is one of my guilty pleasures. I’ve mentioned before that the girls both had some of his music for bedtime music as they were babies learning to fall asleep. And I can say that for the most part, I like and have learned quite a bit from him. As I heard in a composition lesson once, ‘his music is the REAL minimalism… Reich and Glass are just repetitive. And while listening to his music, I can really hear how this is true. When I first heard Pärt, while working at Tower, his music was often connected to New Age music, and found a bit of an audience there. As such, I wrote him off. There was certainly no need for music in my life that attracted Yanni fans. But after hearing ‘Tabula Rasa’ (the concerto for two violins, strings, prepared piano and percussion) I gave pretty much his whole body of work another listen, and the more and more I heard the more I found it worth hearing. Looking back now at how I tend to think about harmony, dissonance and melody, the more I see relationships in my music to what I have heard in Pärt’s. Not that my music sound like bells, or really anything like his, but there are many things I do in my music that I wouldn’t do if I hadn’t contemplated some of his approaches.

The big one for me is the use of quiet, and space to let moments resonate and decay. There is so much beauty in how sound disappears, and really so much activity. I also learned how important it is to consider the space a performance (or a recording) occurs in, as they will shape the quality of the sound so much. When I listen to recordings of Pärt’s music, I become intensely aware of the feeling of its location and spatial quality. The last piece I had performed (Risonanza) takes particular notice of these qualities. And more and more, I am looking for ways to make live electronics simulate and place instruments and their sounds into different acoustic environments (even within the physical structures of the instruments themselves!). So when I hear Pärt talk about the major changes in his compositional style, and the intense contemplations he made into the sounds of bells and how they sound, I still think about how magical that kind of contemplation on sound can be. I would love to see more composers do the same, and think that this will be one of the most important aspects of music to me throughout the rest of my career. It seems so obvious! But as anyone who has been to a new music festival can probably tell you, it is a rare thing.

Day 101. It’s A Beautiful Day, Beethoven.

Tuesday, June 1st, 2010

I spent most of last night working on a recording while ripping the Alexander String Quartet recordings of the complete Beethoven Quartets. So, blog writing took a back seat. Still have a couple of discs to do tonight, and I also added in two albums by It’s A Beautiful Day, both the self-titled first album and ‘Marrying Maiden’.

Around the time I was starting to work at Tower (almost 20 years ago!) my dad had placed a special order at the Tower on Watt Ave. for the first It’s A Beautiful Day album with ‘White Bird’ and ‘Hot Summer Day’ on . He had the vinyl of the album, but he had also heard that a CD of it had been made on the label ‘SF Sound’ which, ironically, was only available as an import. Randy Mendonza (who was the Tower regional manager, akin who I would later learn quite a bit from) found a way to get it for him. To say that he was excited would really be an understatement. The label had all sorts of other stuff as well from late ’60s SF, including Moby Grape’s albums and Quicksilver Messenger Service. I saw ‘Marrying Maiden’ come into the store as an import shortly after I started to work at Tower, and he was just thrilled to get it. It was a strange period… here was my dad, tracking down music that he already had, but was searching for it to get it again on the still somewhat new medium. As CDs now look to be on life support, it blows my mind that these albums are available now to get within minutes of searching. eMusic, iTunes… probably even as MP3 downloads from Amazon. Pretty stunning to see how CDs – the medium that would store music in pristine digital form FOREVER! has, already in 20 years, pretty much been replaced by the online database. And while things still do ‘go out of print’, I also wonder when such a notion will finally be a thing of the past.

The reason I threw these onto the computer last night though was because another friend of mine got his subsonic server also up and running, and I noticed Quicksilver Messenger Service on his library. He had gotten it from his dad, and I asked if he had heard It’s a Beautiful Day. He hadn’t, and within 10 minutes it was loaded onto my server, ready to stream. Pretty mind blowing to me that musical conversations, now with online examples, can happen so quickly (through Facebook chat no less).

The Beethoven quartet recordings with the Alexander Quartet is my favorite overall set. The group made this repertoire their sole musical activity for a number of years, and would tour with the Beethoven quartets to be played only by memory, at the request of the audience. They would start the concert by taking a poll of which early, middle and late quartet to play, then play them. This is so ideal on many levels. One the one hand, they obviously know this music at the level where they don’t need to look at the page anymore, and there is something pretty amazing about a chamber group that can truly pay attention to each other, creating a true musical conversation. Second, they were mostly supported in this by San Francisco State University where they were the quartet in residence and held chamber music workshops (workshops that I imagine produced some very fine chamber music musicians). Third, they were able to make a living by playing repertoire that is rather well-known and well-played, and the difference in their playing really stands out (the recordings have some astounding musicianship in them). Finally, to be a performer of this music and to show up at the gig and ask the audience what it wants to hear – AND have the audience be able to tell them. Wow.

The group has expanded its repertoire in the past decade or so, performing more of the classical repertoire as well as works even well into the 20th century. The other recordings of theirs that I have heard give the sense of a group that really relies on all the players to guide the performance. Their Mozart ‘Haydn’ quartets are beautifully done. But it is their late Beethoven that is really some of the best recordings of any music that I think I have heard. The A minor quart (op.132) is otherworldly. If you ever happen to see them coming to your area for a performance, make sure to get a ticket, and ask for it.

Day 88. Beethoven.

Thursday, May 13th, 2010

Wilhelm Kempff fest tonight! I have the complete piano sonatas, cello sonatas with Pierre Fournier and violin sonatas with Yehudi Menuhin. Not sure if I will get through all of them tonight (15 CDs). These are some of my favorite recordings… ever.

The piano sonatas recording are wonderful. There are mistakes here and there (and this is the case on all these recordings) but all the performances feel very much like real performances (rather then recordings). The overall shaping of movements and whole pieces is wonderful, and you can tell that these are pieces that all of these performers know in their bones. It is performed as though these are great actors who have played a character to the point where they know the past, present, future, thoughts and motivations.

The sonatas box is probably the box set I sold the most of while working at Tower in the classical room. I also had a copy of it (a ‘defective’ copy) stashed away under the counter to play during my shifts. And not only are these some of the best recordings of the standards that most people look for (the ‘Moonlight’ and ‘Pathetique’ for instance), but the late sonatas are nothing short of stunning. The set I have (on DG) was the third recording of the complete Beethoven sonatas for Kempff. And the late sonatas especially benefit from this. They are introspective and have an extreme of touch to them – very light and floaty trills, and heavy dramatic octaves in the beginning of the Op. 111. The lyrical moments between the fugues in Op. 110 literally sound like someone singing a recitative, the piano practically breathing between utterances.

And as much as I LOVE the piano sonata recordings, the cello sonatas are even more special. The recordings are live, and show how well the two performers on stage know each other, and how well they both know Beethoven. The last movement of the op. 69 is a great example of this. The whole trajectory that leads up to the big climax near the end of the movement is paced temporally and dynamically in a perfect way. The whole movement swells and swells like a tide coming in… the waves slowly get larger and larger, and if you are a musician what would probably amaze you the most is how many levels of dynamics these players have. There seem to be four or five gradations between mezzo-forte and forte, and when they finally reach the climactic moment (together in octaves) it is an amazing moment. And the two Op. 102 sonatas feel like old familiar friends coming together again to share a lifetime of experience and understanding.

The violin sonatas lack the brilliance of the live cello sonatas, but keeps the feeling of old friends coming together. The pacing of most of the recordings are a little slower then normal, but the relaxed pacing works well for the two players. Nothing feels strained. The first movement of the ‘Kreutzer’, for instance, feels like two people sharing the drama of a story, but as a retelling of the drama. Most recordings of this piece have a sense of urgency, but here the urgency is replaced by the comfort that no matter how intense the music, everything will come out alright.

Day 73. Beethoven and Bach.

Tuesday, April 13th, 2010

Though I just finished with the complete Bach box set, something that isn’t represented in that collection at all is the lute-harpsichord. Like it sounds, the instrument (pictured above) is basically a cross between the two instruments – a keyboard instrument with gut strings and the body of a HUGE lute. There is a good amount of research that suggests that Bach actually composed quite a bit on and for this instrument that basically disappeared by the late 1700s, and that his ‘Lute Suites’ were actually for this instrument (and not the more commonly found baroque lute). About a year ago I discovered a recording on eMusic of the lute suites performed on a replica lute-harpsichord and downloaded it, and was immediately struck by how different the instrument was from the harpsichord. It is a beautiful sound, more resonant then a lute (and able to sustain notes that would otherwise be deadened on a lute when a change of fret was needed) and less harsh then a harpsichord. The lute pieces on this recording (in Naxos with Elizabeth Farr) are beautiful. There are a handful of other recordings out there with the instrument (including a recording of the Goldberg Variations) that I hope to find someday soon.

This was also a recording I played quite a bit to help Mira sleep when she was still a newborn. She also liked Dowland quite a bit, as well as late Beethoven quartets. So as the little girl needed a little cuddle tonight (she’s is getting over a nasty croup cough) I put the late Beethoven quartets on (the A minor, op. 132) that I have on my computer (The Lindsays recording) and just held her for a bit. She’s so much bigger now… both her and Celia amaze me daily. And I’m glad that when they aren’t feeling well, that their daddy can still hold them for a bit with some Beethoven or Bach on in the background, and some imbedded memory helps remind them that everything is ok.

Last night Tamiko had a bit of hamster in her head as well… a video that Mira really like with Elmo and Ricky Gervais was running through her head, and the annoying parts of the song had Tamiko’s head spinning. I told her about how the late Beethoven quartets used to put Mira to sleep sometimes, ran downstairs to get my iPod and put them on… sure enough, Tamiko was out in about 5 minutes and I listened to the rest of the C-sharp minor quartet while holding her.

I’m so lucky.

Day 58. Violent Femmes, Beethoven.

Tuesday, March 23rd, 2010

“Add It Up’ has got to be one of the best angry young man songs ever written. It is one of the few songs on the first Violent Femmes albums that has Gordon Gano playing some electric guitar, but it is still amazing how loud parts of this song are with just guitar, acoustic bass guitar and a single snare drum. I’m ripping four Violent Femmes CDs tonight, the first album, ‘Hallowed Ground’ (with some of the darkest music I think the Femmes ever made, plus some of the most out there – with some heavy thanks to John Zorn and his Horns of Dilemma), ‘Why Do Birds Sing’ and the ‘Add It Up’ compilation from ’93. I have a couple others in the back shelves of the book cases, but I’ll have to dig for those. The first album is – I really don’t know how to put it – every whiny teenage loser kids album of anthems? It certainly was there for me during my low points. What amazes me is how fun it is to listen to now since it makes me think ‘phew! I’m not there anymore’. And I get the sense that this is probably the case for the band as well. ‘Hallowed Ground’ is a solid album as well, but the Violent Femmes really were one of those bands who did their best and brightest on the first record. (Pink Martini, from last night, I think is also in that camp). And while ‘Blister In The Sun’ gets it’s fair share of radio play on ‘alternative’ stations still, ‘American Music’ from ten years later is really their big hit (though really no where near their best song… just more accessible I guess).

I got to see the Violent Femmes once at the Fillmore in San Francisco, and what a show that was. The group came to the stage THROUGH the middle of the audience playing snare drum, a trombone and a cymbals… hopped on stage and rocked out a great show. I’m still amazed how much these three guys were able to do together as a band (though at this point Victor DeLorenzo had been replaced on drum(s)… what a strange audition that must have been – ‘So, can you play a snare drum?’ ‘Sure’ ‘OK! You’re hired!’). Brian Ritchie played some pretty mean marimbas on ‘Gone Daddy Gone’ and it seemed like all three of them were picking up instruments here and there as needed. They looked like they were having lots of fun (to say the least). And opening that show was Carmaig DeForrest and his ‘Death Groove Love Party’… Carmaig only put out a handful of discs that were probably only available around shows in SF, but they sure were fun. Hmm… may need to rip that one in the next day or two.

There is something poetic though about how I wound up ripping the Violent Femmes tonight. Before bed, Celia came downstairs to pick out tonight’s rips and pulled out a couple of blank CD cases (because they were a pretty red), then she saw the first Violent Femmes record and said ‘Daddy! There’s a little girl on that one!’. So – Violent Femmes it was, because my daughter saw the little girl on the cover. The Violent Femmes – part of the soundtrack to my breakup with Tamiko (which, if it had stuck, would have meant no Celia in this world… WAAAHHHH!!!!). And it’s not like I can put it on for her tomorrow and say ‘Celia – here is the music with the girl on the cover!’… how do I explain ‘Kiss Off’? She’ll recognize that the man singing is counting, but why does he forget what 8 is for? Or ‘Gone Daddy Gone’ when one of her biggest fears is that I might leave in the middle of the night? (This as a result of a poorly planned trip on my part where I had to leave for the airport one time at 3am). No – I think Celia will just have to live in mystery of this disc for a bit of time.

I am beginning to suspect that part of my romanticization / longing for Berkeley must partly be a result of the strong, vivid memories that were formed there. Memories so strong and clear that I am actually surprised by them… am I still capable of these strong memories of what seem to be simple, small everyday details? I mean – I can still form them when the moment calls for it. I can still remember how both of our girls felt the first time they were in my arms for instance. But the memories that I am talking about are more about these moments that are NOT earth shattering life changing moments, but I can still recall the temperature in the air and the quality of the sound in a specific space. I described some of this a few days ago regarding Charlie Parker, and tonight is another one… this time around it is the first time I heard Beethoven’s String Trio, Op. 9 movement IV. Of course I didn’t know what it was (I was still acquiring mostly basic knowledge of classical repertoire) but I was walking (quickly) between the Tower in Berkeley to get to orchestra rehearsal. And as I walked past Henry’s on Durant, the little cafe at the street level (in the picture above, at the left edge of the frame) had the radio on over a couple of crappy in-ceiling speakers. And that is where I heard it… the last movement is fast and virtuosic and I stopped in my tracks and snuck a seat on the sidewalk. It was an early fall day, still warm with a little bite of cold in the air as the fog was getting ready to roll up to the Berkeley hills, the sun was about to set and there was a great golden color coming up the street, and I just sat there for about four minutes listening to the music hoping it was the radio and I could find out what it was. I was half expecting that if it WAS the radio someone would come up and ask if I was going to buy anything while the piece was named and I would miss it… but no. It ended and it was the Rostropovich / Anne Sophie Mutter recording of the Beethoven trio. It was Beethoven! So ‘classical’! I was so surprised (I really was expecting Haydn or Mozart or someone I hadn’t heard of before) since most of the Beethoven I knew up to this point were the moodier ‘hits’. Then I got up and headed off to orchestra rehearsal (Berlioz – ‘Symphonie Fantastique’) and found a recording the next day (as well as the score in the library).

Isn’t that a great story? I was able to walk down the street, hear classical music, sit down for a few minutes, listen and find out what it was in amazing surroundings! And like I said – I can still feel what that whole moment was like…

Day 42. Leon Parker, Beethoven, Bach and more Beethoven (maybe).

Wednesday, March 3rd, 2010

I couldn’t get the girls downstairs tonight for any picks, so I grabbed Leon Parker’s ‘Belief’, then my set of Wilhelm Kempff’s recordings of the Beethoven Piano Concertos (with Berlin and Ferdinand Leitner… one of TWO complete recordings I have with Kempff)… then I grabbed the Harmonia Mundi box set of Kenneth Gilbert’s Bach keyboard works… then Beethoven’s Diabelli Variations by Alfred Brendel (on Vox Box)… then I decided ‘well, maybe I’ll get through all the Brendel Beethoven solo piano works’. As everything sits right now I am done with Leon Parker and the Kempff recordings, and am about halfway through the Kenneth Gilbert. We’ll see how far I get tonight (the Brendel stack is 15 CDs… I’ll be surprised if I finish them).

Leon Parker’s disc is one of my favorite non-avant-garde contemporary jazz discs. That’s a lot of qualifiers, but I think most serious jazz listeners can understand (if not agree) with the need for them. ‘Belief’ is a very accessible disc but at the same time doesn’t fit into the ‘rock with words’ world of most mainstream jazz. There are elements of 20th century minimalism, some sharp, punctuated horn playing, and lots of good percussion (which is what Leon Parker plays). The album closes off with a great, sparse version of ‘In a Sentimental Mood’, but the stand out on the album is ‘Calling Out’. After buildup and crash of cymbals, a percussive ostinato starts up, followed by additional layers of vocal patterns that keep getting added to create a dense vocal / percussive heterophony that certainly owes quite a bit to West African music.

But right now I have the Beethoven concertos on. I love Wilhem Kempff’s playing. And these performances (and recordings) are beautiful. One of my fondest orchestra memories was playing the 5th concerto one summer. Steve (another bass player who also actively performed in a Black Sabbath cover band) taps my shoulder with his bow during one of the piano solo parts in the first movement during a rehearsal. I turn around, and he is pretending to tap his bass strings a la an Eddie Van Halen solo, in perfect rhythm to the soloist. Of course – Steve completely called it. This IS the Eddie Van Halen solo music of the 18th century (and I mean that in the best, most bad ass way it can be taken – early Van Halen shredding at its best). 3 seconds of pantomime summed up Beethoven’s 5th piano concerto for me better then any history book or paper on the piece I ever read.

The Brendel recordings (that I just might get to tonight) are his first recordings of the Beethoven solo repertoire. He would go on to record the sonatas two more times on Phillips (and may have even done one more set as he was preparing to retire… i heard something about that??? did he???). While he later set (from the 90s) is certainly very interesting to listen to, the set on Vox Box is probably my second favorite set (after Kempff’s set). I remember when I bought them… the classical manager at the time scoffed at me for ‘being willing to touch those dirty things’… Vox Box… the dusty budget set in its own rack that he felt didn’t deserve even to be shelved much less purchased. But, the joke is on him. There were some great older recordings that Vox Box put out, and I’m certainly glad I didn’t let his classical snobbery deter me. After he left and I was given more control over classical purchases at the store, the memory of his pricing snobbery bothered me so much that one of the first things I did was order one of every Naxos title. I though then (and still firmly believe) that it shouldn’t cost a fortune to explore classical music. Or any music for that matter… but at least with classical music, you could get to know repertoire for a reasonable price as long as the guy at the counter was willing to suggest those discs to a new customer.  Sure, they aren’t always ‘the best’, but they are often quite good and you will get to hear more when you are just starting out that way.

Day 39. Beethoven and the Powerpuff Girls.

Sunday, February 28th, 2010

Celia grabbed ‘Heros and Villians: Music Inspired By The Powerpuff Girls’ and the 1963 Herbert Von Karajan Beethoven symphony recordings tonight. I am quite tickled by the combination.
Over the next few hours, I will hear what I consider to be some of the greatest recordings of the greatest music of all time. But first – Devo, Shohen Knife, bis and Frank Black. Tamiko and I spent quite a bit of time watching the Powerpuff Girls early on in grad school. 10 minutes of sillyness with some pretty decent writing. ‘Meet the Beatalls’ is an episode I just referred someone to the other day (written almost completely in Beatles lyrics – pure genius). As for the music on the disc, it is rather hit or miss. But the bands above provide some pretty good tracks, especially Shohen Knife’s ode to Buttercup. I don’t think Celia or Mira are old enough for the Powerpuff Girls yet… but I am looking forward to the day when we can watch them together.
I think the Karajan discs are probably the recordings I sold more of then anything else during my record store days. Or it may be better to say, these are the discs I recommended to more people then anyone else (because I am pretty sure that even if I suggested and sold 50 of these sets, it would still pale in number to the thousands of copies of pop hits I would have actually taken cash for). These older analog recordings sound great, and the performances are stunningly beautiful. Quite possibly the height of Deutche Grammophone’s recording days matched by the height of Karajan’s conducting. I believe Karajan had recorded complete sets of the Beethoven symphonies two or three times before these DG recordings with his orchestra (Berlin). And he would go on to record the complete cylce two more times (once in the 70s and again in the 80s so they could be captured digitally), but it is the 1963 recordings that stand above and beyond the other recordings.
I tend to like my Beethoven played with smaller orchestras though. In fact I prpbably like other recordings here and there better then individual performances on these discs. But these performances really are the standard of standards for these pieces, and the quality and musicianship across the whole set really hasn’t been matched before or since. While tempos may be slower then what Beethoven may have wanted or the orchestra bigger, what these recordings seem to capture for me is a sense of what Karajan was doing as an interpreter in his time. This was HIS orchestra (he had been appointed director for life in 1955) and he had been shaping its sound for quite some time. And the Beethoven symphinies were the backbone of his repertoire. As recording technology improved he was always at the forefront, eager to explore new possibilites. I think in the 70s and 80s, this actually hurt his recorded documents however. These recordings were mostly recorded (I believe) in a church in Berlin, and the recording engineers were in a building across the street because of the lack of space. After a take was done, Karajan would run across the street to hear the recording and judge whether or not to do another take. But recording technology in these days wasn’t as advanced as they would be in the 70s… and while I am sure there is some editing in these discs, they feel more dynamic and musical to me then the performances from the 70s that seems unrealistically smooth and even (and the poor early digital technology couple with his old age make the recordings from the 80s particularly difficult to listen to). These are quite fiery at times, as well as amazingly dramatic.
The recording of the 7th on these discs is especially beautiful. It is the stand out of this set. The first movement has excitement (the transition from the opening Adagio to the Allegro almost sounds avant-garde in it’s clarity). The second movement is by far the most deeply moving version of this piece I have ever heard, and it provides stunning contrast to the third and fourth movements. Karajan is often given credit (in his live performances) for shaping a beautiful dramatic arch through an entire piece, and while his reocrdings sometimes lose this it is far from the case in this recording of the 7th.
Time to put it on actually…