I found something I shouldn’t have–a web-based cycling television station. I’m glad OLN is broadcasting more cycling than just the Tour de France this year, but the weekly hour and a half coverage with commercial interruptions every ten minutes gets annoying even with Phil Liggett and Paul Sherwin calling the shots. (By the way, someone needs to tell Bob Roll to use his hands less when he talks on camera.)
Ok, this happened a couple of months ago, but it’s still funny. On February 16 I gave my New York debut recital at Columbia Unversity’s Miller Theater. After the performance, a group of family and friends made their way back to the green room to congratulate me. Among my friends was Anthony Iaffaldano, who I’ve known since kindergarten. After some hugs and handshakes Anthony asked me, “Who’s Alex Ross?” “Alex Ross is the music critic for The New Yorker,” I replied. (And then instantly, the following shot through my head: Whoa, was Alex Ross at my recital?! With Allan Kozinn from The New York Times and David Salvage of Sequenza21 reviewing the concert I thought I’d already hit a home run. But now Alex Ross was here too?! Hmm, he did have me on his agenda for the week . . .) And then Anthony snapped me out of my inner monologue by letting me know that someone had mistaken him for Alex Ross. Oh. Just then, David Salvage came in to say hello before heading home to his computer to write the review. “That’s the guy who thought I was Alex Ross,” Anthony informed me. Apparently David mistook my parents and other friends who hadn’t seen Anthony in a while–they were gathered around him, shaking his hand, and talking–for Alex Ross groupies. I guess if you haven’t met Alex and only know him by the picture on his website, it might be easy to mistake him for Anthony. You can’t really blame David, they do resemble each other. Take a look for yourself!
Wow. I’m completely flattered. In a post yesterday–more of a call to arms, actually–that dealt with artists using new media effectively to interact with their audiences, Terry Teachout mentioned (ok, linked to) Sounds Like Now. (I never thought I’d be mentioned in the same breath as Hillary Hahn!) Mr. Teachout’s post, written in reaction to Rupert Murdoch’s speech to the American Society of Newspaper Editors, lays out a series of questions that should be required reading for all students in the arts. I knew there was a revolution brewing.
I’m at the SEAMUS National Conference in Muncie, IN today, playing works by Lou Bunk and Peter McCulloch, and learning that technology doesn’t always make life easier. It took two and a half hours to tech two works last night. And one was only a CD playback. Oy! Some electronic composers might be gear-junkies who have to have the latest software or gizmo, but last night Peter was pining for an analog board.
Thanks to The Fredösphere and Patty for the nice press.
As part of restructuring their classical music division, Sony BMG announced yesterday the creation of a new classical label, Sony BMG Masterworks. With Gilbert Hetherwick at the helm, the label intends to “put the focus on classical music,” which means putting a damper on the crossover projects that were once deemed the only way to sustain a classical line. Mr. Hetherwick reports directly to Sony BMG Music Entertainment’s chief operating officer, Michael Smeille, who although professing to knowing nothing about classical music, registered some pretty insightful comments about crossover projects:
I don’t buy the reports that the classical record market is collapsing. It’s just a question of recording the right repertory, marketing it convincingly and applying the right discipline. And in my view, getting rid of crossover allows people to be focused. Crossover distorts people’s values. You have a record that sells a million copies, and the universe shifts towards finding the next one. That’s not what we want to do.
Well, his comments about crossover are pretty insightful, but one wonders who he’s trying to kid with that first sentence. (And maybe what he means by “marketing it convincingly” is to use “babeness” as a strategy. What do you think, Jerry?) At any rate, although the label intends to support classical music and not crossover artists, classical music means the core classical repertory. So expect new releases of the same old stuff, only this time mined from the back catalog of the combined label, in the form of reissues. In fact, over 100 releases a year would most likely be reissues, compared to the 20 to 25 new recordings.
And where’s new music in this equation? Not completely absent, although it would be nice to see contemporary composers get a bigger slice of the major record label pie. Contemporary music will have to be happy being marginalized, for the most part, to the internet ghetto:
[The internet] would be ideal for some of the contemporary-music recordings that Sony has: avant-garde productions from the 1960s that are important but that we couldn’t afford to remaster, put into a plastic box and sell in stores.
Huh? If they’re important, why not remaster them, put them into a plastic box and sell them in stores? Or how about just putting them into a plastic box and selling them in stores? It’s important to note here that any sort of attention to new music that the label will pay, is attention to “old” new music, rather than “new” new music. Mr. Hetherwick says some things that make me jump for joy, but he also says some things that leave me scratching my head.
Sometimes when there’s nothing to say , maybe you shouldn’t say anything at all. Oops. (Found on About Last Night.)
I had an interesting experience tonight. A famous composer invited me over to his house to play through a baritone saxophone piece that he’d been commissioned to write. Of course, I agreed to help out because how often does a famous composer ask for my assistance? When I arrived the score was there for me to play through—no dynamics or articulations. As I sight-read through the piece, the famous composer marked in my articulations and asked for my advice on how to make certain lines more idiomatic for the instrument. I thought that this was wonderful. There have certainly been times that I’d wished a composer had consulted me before sending a score along (i.e. the saxophone can’t play a low Ab below the staff). It was a bit of a laborious process but completely worth the effort.
As we worked through the piece, I showed the famous composer some things that the saxophone could do that he wasn’t aware of, like playing higher than the orchestration books say it can. He liked this and made several lines go higher. I played a slap-tongue for him, which he also liked. He then hastily composed a new section of the piece on the spot that incorporated the slap-tongue. The new section was actually pretty happening—kind of a call-and-response between the low register of the saxophone and the upper register.
However, when we finally got to the end of the piece, I realized that there was no end of the piece. The famous composer hadn’t quite finished it yet. So I sat there and played through the famous composer’s ideas, reading his shorthand and transposing at sight. It was kind of fun at first, but after four hours I felt quite drained. I was basically serving as a playback that was more real-sounding than a MIDI patch. I’m not upset—he paid me for my time, after all—but I sure didn’t think that I’d be that involved in the composition process. And the piece isn’t even for me!
In other news: You’ve got to feel George Hincapie’s pain. He got beat in the final sprint today by Tom Boonen at Paris-Roubaix, the most famous one-day race on the professional cycling calendar. Phil Liggett is the best call in sports.
Actually, not much. Yelling, “On your left!” to pedestrians taking up too much of the bike path. Learning lots of new music for concerts. Waiting for Paris-Roubaix. Enjoying NPR uninterrupted now that the pledge drive is over (finally . . . ). Listening to Decasia and Drumming. Conspiring with Helen. Reminder: visit the Japan Society’s Little Boy exhibit when in NYC in a week and a half. Read: The Bay Buzz by Ching Chang, ACD’s sounds & fury, and uTopianTurtleTop.
And Frank Oteri is wondering if he’s the only one obsessing about this year’s Pulitzer Prize for music as he tries to launch a discussion. Any takers?
Ever wondered which dead celebrity you’d have a chance with? A tip from The Muse At Sunset led me to Biography’s Dead Celebrity Soulmate Search. Mata Hari is the perfect fit for me.
In what might be famous last words, I said “not all jazz saxophonists can play classical.” Well, some of them can. And I had the great fortune to be in the room with such an artist yesterday–the saxophonist Tim Ries. Tim’s done it all–jazz gigs, weddings, big band, studied classical saxophone with Donald Sinta (which is different than taking a couple of lessons with a famous classical saxophonist before recording an album of classical music), Broadway shows, played the soprano saxophone chair in the PRISM Saxophone Quartet for ten years, and toured around the world with the Rolling Stones for fifteen months, among other things. During his masterclass, he played two tunes, including a Bach flute piece with piano accompaniment. He played it on soprano saxophone, in a Baroque style (whatever that is), and improvised over the “changes” in a Baroque style (i.e. no swung eigth-notes). It was convincing, and true, and beautiful. The timbre was right. The intonation was near flawless. And as he played I thought, “I bet J. S. Bach would really be digging his stuff if he were here right now.” The fact that Tim’s primarily a jazz artist didn’t matter at all. He’s simply an extraordinary musician.
There's more where that came from. Music, videos, and albums by Brian all inside.
