Programming a Classical Season

by Joshua Roman

Joshua Roman by Hayley Young 7

My mandate from the beginning was clear and concise: Town Music’s programming should reflect my musical interests. A live iPod playlist, if you will. Well, my interests are broad and evolving! What can I say?

Nine seasons in, I’ve seen the development of an audience that comes for an experience. We’re lucky, in this sense, to be tied to an organization like Town Hall Seattle, which fosters community discussion and debate around issues important to Seattle. This spirit of engagement naturally flows over into the music series, and has prompted me to explore musical connections that might not be obvious based on traditional metrics. When an audience member leaves one of the Town Music concerts, I want them to have had an experience that generates curiosity and excitement. Hopefully, they will have been surprised at some point, whether by unknown sounds or their own reaction to something of which they previously had a different expectation.

But how to do this without having a total mishmash of unrelated projects? There are several things which remain consistent from season to season:

Every season includes music by J.S. Bach, whether it’s a concert of Bach or mixed in other programs. I love Bach, and find it an ideal anchor for explorations of many kinds of music. In past seasons, Bach has been played by Baroque specialists like Catharina Meints and paired with other music, like Karen Gomyo’s evening of Bach and Piazzolla. This season, Johnny Gandelsman plays all six Sonatas and Partitas. Yesss…

Every season ends with a commission. A musical series which seeks legitimacy must, in my mind, be a part of the continuing tradition of creativity and innovation which is classical music. This means commissioning and/or performing new works. End of story!

Every season has at least one concert where I perform. My relationship with Town Hall Seattle began with a solo performance, before I was asked to join the team as an Artistic Director. My identity is very much wrapped up in performance, and I learn so much from sharing the stage time and time again in front of an audience that I know, and that knows me.

So how to bring it all together? Several of my past seasons have had an arc, or a particular focus. The season of extra-musical influence comes to mind, where concerts had textual, dance, or other non-musical influence. Or the season where each concert had a different number of players. However, I find that these ideas work best when they develop naturally during the planning process. I like to start with one or two intriguing performers or programs, and then find the connections (obvious or not, at this point) to at least one other idea that’s been on my mind. From there, I might consciously begin to search for other performances that will enhance or contrast the developing theme.

My best example of this process is a season from several years ago, where each concert featured a composer/performer playing their own work and works that had inspired them. I had already decided on a couple of the performers when I realized the commonality: they were also composers. It wasn’t hard to find other people I’d already wanted on the series who also composed. In the end, we had Derek Bermel, So Percussion, the JACK Quartet, Gabriela Lena Frank, and to bring it all back home to Seattle, players from the Seattle Symphony who also compose.

Which leads me to the last piece of the puzzle: maintaining a connection and sensitivity to the community I serve with this series so I can properly inhabit my role as provocateur. Some of that comes from talking regularly with friends and colleagues in Seattle, during my many (many!) trips there or over the phone and email. I also like to find special occasions to highlight local musicians, whether in an all-cello ensemble or the composer/performer concert. One of the more gratifying endeavors was in June, where we managed to pull Seattle Youth Symphony players, alumni, and mentors from the Seattle Symphony and other orchestras together to share the stage in a program of inspiring string ensemble music.

And, my most frequent activity as an Artistic Director: listening. Hours are spent scouring the internet for music and musicians I haven’t heard. Following trails of interesting ideas to see where they originate. Going to concerts when I can (usually at home in NYC) and asking colleagues what’s new and what’s great as I travel around the country.

In the end, I’m on the hook for the programming decisions, and I take this job very seriously. This is a never-ending path of discovery that has taken me far beyond simply programming my own recitals, and it has had a profound impact on how I see my artistic voice developing. Sharing is such an important part of being human, and as an artist I see opportunities to improve that quality in myself, and they are certainly not limited to the concert stage. I love the the feeling of giving someone else a chance to share their voice with an audience and enjoy the dialogue this beautiful interaction spawns.

Take a look at this upcoming Town Music Season and past concerts.

Music I’m listening to:
Ieyoka: “Say Yes Evolved”
Bela Fleck: “Bela Fleck and Abigail Washburn”
Xenakis: Complete String Quartets (JACK Quartet)

STAFF & COMMUNITY PICKS: September 10, 2015

A weekly rundown of the music our staff and listeners are loving lately! Are you interested in contributing some thoughts on your favorite new music albums? Drop us a line!


Joshua Roman on Gyorgy Ligeti’s String Quartet No.1:

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This is one of my favorite pieces by Gyorgy Ligeti.  It’s an eight movement quartet, but since each movement is quite short, it’s similar in length to most string quartets.  With these eight movements, there are some absolute stand outs.  The first movement starts out rather creepily with slow-moving scales underneath a melody that has all sorts of twists, turns, and oddities.  I also really love the fourth movement, a presto. It is a kind of wild dance – little canonic episodes and lots of division between the quartet.  For instance, two players will play the same thing at the same time but a half step apart. These minor seconds create a very odd sound that’s quite energetic.  There are some beautiful shimmering colors in the fifth movement.  In the sixth movement, Ligeti plays around with the waltz, and of course, never lets it stay the same for very long.

 



Rachele Hales on Eric Chasalow’s Are You Radioactive, Pal?:

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Lots of pizzicato and vocal fragments give the album great energy, but this is one of those
collections that demands focused listening to be really appreciated.  Definitely not a good option for your next dinner party.  The juxtaposition of audio elements felt bizarre on my first pass, but when I listened again they formed interesting musical stories.  For adventurous listeners only.

 

 



David Wall on The Gnostic Trio’s In Lambeth: Visions from the Walled Garden of William Blake:

MI0003637663Ethereal, lush, and lyrical, In Lambeth: Visions from the Walled Garden of William Blake conveys a deep sense of mystery born out of the art and poetry of the 18th Century English Romantic , William Blake. As the title implies, one feels upon listening as though they are indeed peering through the hedges to catch a glimpse of a garden full of other-worldly characters; characters from Blake’s personal mythology, who are brought to life by The Gnostic Trio’s unusual but perfectly apropos combination of instrumentation (guitar, harp, and vibraphone) and John Zorn’s compositions. These pieces, as with Blake’s writing and artwork, are both rooted in tangible history, having distinct touches of jazz, minimalism, and even folk, yet at the same time transcend these genres to become a force unto itself.

The Birth of a Cello Concerto

by Joshua Roman

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Damn. This is hard! My respect for composers has gone through the roof since I first began scrawling on manuscript paper, and at no time has it been higher than the present. The focus and skill required to compose a work for soloist and orchestra are not easy to come by. Taking a few initial ideas – whether they come as a sound, a form, a gesture, a transitional mechanism – and turning them into a cohesive musical narrative is a process that can only be learned through experience.

There have got to be as many ways to do this as there are composers. I’ve gone through several myself, even on this one piece. To begin with, I had the idea to write from the piano. Supposedly, this would help me focus on the relationship between soloist and orchestra, rather than writing a solo line with incidental backup music behind it. Ironically, I realized several weeks into this method that all of the best moments were in the orchestra part, and the solo line was now secondary! Not to mention, it was taking forever due to my rudimentary keyboard skills.

A fun fix for this came from my growing experience playing the great concertos each season. I close my eyes, cello in hand, and imagine this scene: Walking out onto stage, bowing, shaking hands with the concertmaster (a friend), looking over at the conductor (another friend), and nodding that it’s time to begin. At that point, what happens? Who starts? What have I always wanted to do and hear that has not yet existed?

This method is very fun for me; involving more than one sense in the creative process. Picturing people I know helps, too. When I see them in my mind’s eye, I want to give them something meaningful to do musically. The natural outcome is that the orchestra becomes a partner, and the dynamic between solo line and ensemble is one that takes on a malleable quality. In the end, it even affects the form of this piece, and shapes the climactic moments, as a metaphor for individuality and life purpose emerge.

A little bit of a teaser: my concerto is in five sections, or movements (attacca). The rough outline follows that of a love affair, beginning and ending without the love interest. Of course, this is mostly a structure, the themes and motifs themselves interact on their own terms, and in the end, their momentum supersedes any story I might be using as inspiration. The orchestra is sometimes the broader setting, sometimes a reflection of the solo line, and sometimes used in smaller units as a partner or even antagonist.

It’s difficult to describe this process completely without musical examples. The work is not quite finished, but it’s getting there. Along the way, much has fallen to the cutting floor, and many moments and connections undergo intense scrutiny and revision. And yet, there is so much more that could be done. I understand both the desire to continue working on a piece forever – revising every few years as Stravinsky might – and the feeling of wanting to leave it behind and go on without looking back, taking along only the lessons learned.

Composing is a tough path, and I’m beginning to see that one must really earn their way to a good piece every time. It is a beautiful thing, something I hope we all learn to turn to from time to time as our artistic journeys deepen. And for those who are already in the thick of it, I offer my heartfelt gratitude as you bare your souls to give your music that touches something unique in each of us, and ignites our shared humanity.

Spotify Playlist
Taking a break from other music until I’ve finished the concerto, at which point the regularly scheduled playlist will resume… AKA, Silence, until I’ve finished the concerto!

Staff & Community Picks: August 13

A weekly rundown of the music our staff and listeners are loving lately! Are you interested in contributing some thoughts on your favorite new music albums? Drop us a line!


Joshua Roman on Golijov’s Ayre:

71kEKXXvAAL._SX522_This is an amazing piece that I first stumbled upon several years ago and basically put on repeat.  It’s a unique set-up where you have things like a hyper-accordion, which is an invention by the player himself, Michael Ward-Bergeman.  He basically takes two inputs and puts them on either side of the accordion and creates this stereo effect with a machine that mixes them together to create the “hyper effect.” It’s kind of like an accordion on steroids and produces a lot of intense sounds. Golijov uses this to great effect to take you through different modes of musical communication.  It’s not stuck in style; it really goes all over the place, but all fits together very well and flows very naturally.  There are moments that are very touching and movements where you’ll think, “What the hell is going on?” but in a really great way.  It’s extremely exciting! Dawn Upshaw gives an incredible performance and allows herself to go to places that are just primal in nature.



Jill Kimball on David Leisner’s Facts of Life

911XPzhwHeL._SL1417_Addiction. Heartbreak.  Disappointment. We’d like to brush all these things under a rug, but sometimes they’re the facts of life. Composer David del Tredici chose to place his negative life experiences at the forefront of his four-movement solo guitar work, “Facts of Life.” It’s just one of three pieces on an album featuring the virtuosic guitarist David Leisner. The piece transitions effortlessly from tango to fugue to some fantastically frenetic strumming. Another beautifully chaotic piece on the album is Osvaldo Golijov’s “Fish Tale,” a chamber piece about a sea creature who takes a trippy, Alice in Wonderland-like journey through the water. 



Geoffrey Larson on Ravi Shankar’s Symphony

854990001604This piece is something totally different: an orchestral work that is part symphony, part sitar concerto. Both a sitar master and long-time classical composer and collaborator, the late Ravi Shankar fashioned a four-movement work that brings Hindustani music to the Western orchestral ensemble. Pounding raga-like rhythms and dance figures can be found throughout, augmented by actual vocalizations by the LPO players in the final movement. The composer’s daughter, sitar virtuoso Anoushka Shankar shines in this live performance recording. Common practice period not spicy enough? These unique symphonic flavors might do the trick.

A Shared Lesson

by Joshua Roman

Roman_15There’s something about stretching the limits, pushing the boundaries, that turns me on. When it’s a shared experience, the reward is greatly magnified. I recently had the honor of working with young musicians in a setting that kept all of us on our toes. In partnership with my series at Town Hall Seattle, the Seattle Youth Symphony called on some of their lovely players and alumni to join me and a few colleagues acting as mentors for a concert of 20th and 21st century string ensemble music.

It’s important to demonstrate to young musicians that ours is a tradition of innovation and creativity. Classical music is a living, breathing thing, not stuck in the past. The same discipline used to bring a Beethoven Symphony to its peak form can be turned to the task of helping birth a new work, and share a new idea. One of the most fruitful ways of passing along a teaching is to lead by example, and I’m ever so grateful to my friends from the Seattle Symphony and other orchestras who played in our ensemble as mentors. Sitting alongside their future colleagues, working together to prepare a very challenging program and present it in a few short days was not an easy task. Through Town Hall Seattle’s partnership with Second Inversion and KING FM, we also gave these aspiring musicians a chance to participate in a video recording session, the results of which are now viewable online.

The program: the world premiere of Running Theme by Timo Andres, which was commissioned by Town Hall. Then, John AdamsShaker Loops; and lastly, Béla Bartók’s Divertimento. The schedule: 6 rehearsals including the recording session and the dress rehearsal, from a Wednesday to a Saturday. A chance for the young musicians to have a glimpse of the condensed and intensive experience professional musicians are often faced with.

The diversity of style within the program was integral to its success in creating a powerful experience for the students. The Divertimento is a fantastically fun work that retains much of Bartok’s folk influence, while delving into more chromatic and idiosyncratic ideas in the slow movement. It’s a difficult work, and there are many solos, another opportunity for our mentors to lead by example. Shaker Loops has long been one of my favorite works, and to me represents minimalism at its most exciting and transportive. To see musicians who had never played this kind of music learn to embrace and inhabit a new way of feeling musical structure and phrasing over a few short days was very cool.

Perhaps the best part was the way they rose to the challenge of putting together Running Theme, an entirely new piece of music for which they could not sit and study previous recordings or hear in concert before taking on the responsibility of presenting it to the world for the first time. Every piece in the canon had a birth, every composer in history has counted on musicians and audiences to give them a shot at leading into the unknown. The evolution of one’s feelings as moments begin to be recognized, form really takes shape, and the conviction borne of seeing both the big picture and feeling the importance of subtlety is a beautiful process, one that for me is so integral to how we then share our hearts with the audience.

What’s the value of this experience? Hopefully, for the protégés, a glimpse of what it takes to be a professional musician. To learn to be prepared at rehearsals, on the ball and focused regardless of the familiarity of the music. To be inspired by the level of the mentors, and of course hear the little tips that come along the way. And to be empowered by the notion that they can be a part of the amazing lineage of classical music and its creation, by working directly with an exciting – and in this case young – composer.

For the mentors, to see the growth and feel the energy of youth, and be challenged to lead by example. Also, to be reminded of the wonder they felt sitting in such a group for the first time when they were that age, and the confidence that develops as something unknown becomes a familiar tool in now capable hands.

For me, the incredible joy of seeing the chemistry between musicians, mentor and protégé. And the honor of leading the team as we work together to the best of our ability to convey something that will transport an audience to a place where the impossible becomes possible, and our inner selves are given a common voice.

MUSIC ON ROTATION:
Fiona Apple – Tidal (album)
Timo Andres – Shy and Mighty (album)
Olivier Messiaen – Fête des Belles Eaux – performed by Ensemble d’Ondes de Montreal (2008)