 |
Brian Groner has been music director of the Fox Valley Symphony since 1995. From time to time he will share his thoughts with you right here in his blog.
Try it, you'll like it!
Apr. 10, 2008
I stared into the refrigerator and looked for possibilities (a common pose for me at my home). This is one of the reasons I enjoy cooking, taking whatever is there and making something from it. Today there would be duck. It was just now thawed enough and it was a nice day, which made the cooking method obvious, grilling. Then I decided to experiment. I had made a coffee concoction earlier in the day and it seemed like I could tie the two ideas together to make a dry rub for the duckling. The rub/coffee mix was two heaping tablespoons Turkish coffee, a slightly smaller amount of very good Dutch cocoa powder and about a quarter teaspoon of cayenne pepper. After removing the giblets, which were placed in a sauce pan to make stock, I sharpened a cleaver and neatly separated the birds left from its right. I then dried its skin and applied the rub. It took on the look of a dark chocolate Easter Bunny (don’t you hate it when they turn out to be hollow). During the grilling (skin side up at first to help preserve the rub) I worked on other items for the meal and also made some more of the coffee mix in the larger of my two ibriks. I started thinking about people and locations, as I was enjoying coffee from Turkey, chocolate from Holland, along with a spice named for a city in French Guiana all in an Iranian coffee pot. That of course led my thoughts to the recent ground breaking tour of the New York Philharmonic to North Korea. They performed the national anthems of both our country and that of their host. Music has always been vital in bringing people together. It allows us to explore other cultures, other ways of thinking, to experience parts of people’s lives that may have lived 200 years ago or are still living today. So, whether it is through a new food or a piece of music new to you, I think that it is good to sample. Maybe if people all over the world sampled new food and new music we could be brought together in some way. Perhaps it would help. Something has to, you know?
PS- the duck was fine! |
 |
Thanks
Mar. 13, 2008
It is a busy time of year at the FVS. The process of planning next year’s season is wrapping up. The concerts have been programmed (the repertoire will of course remain a secret for the time being), the budget for those concerts is being prepared, the number of musicians required for each concert is being considered, the music is being located, rehearsals are being planned, rehearsal locations are being reserved, auditions for the few spots available in the orchestra are scheduled, the committee of musicians to listen to those auditioning have been contacted, next season’s fundraisers are in the early stage of development etc. These and a hundred other details are being considered and budgeted for.
The number of details that go into planning a successful concert are myriad and the planning for future concerts must of course take place while the orchestra is in the middle of producing concerts for the current season. When one arrives at a concert and takes his or her seat it all, in some way, looks like the musicians just show up and make the music happen. That is the way it should look, seamless and carefree. When it appears to be that way then the staff of the orchestra has done their jobs well.
I would like to thank a couple of people that never really get the recognition they deserve. Our librarian and concertmaster Janet Bond-Sutter spends countless hours researching music for our concerts, arranges for the rental or purchase of the music, marking bowings for the strings, sending out music to the musicians and a hundred other jobs. Our stage manager and double bass player Scott Breyer, makes sure that the orchestra is set up properly with adequate space for each player, he transports percussion equipment and arranges for smooth stage changes on concert night etc. Our personnel manager and timpanist Paul Ristau makes sure that the right players are there for each rehearsal (knowing that each piece on a concert will have a slightly different complement of players). He is the one that calls a musician to fill in should one of the players have a sudden emergency as each part is critical so that you can hear the music as it should sound.
There are many more people to thank. I hope to get around to them soon but for right now I will thank these three, people that bring the players to the stage, bring the music to the players and make it all look seamless and easy on concert night. Thank you to them.
BtG |
|
A matter of taste
Jan. 16, 2008
When this blog was first started I mentioned that I might talk about food or wine. This will be my first post with wine as the topic.
I enjoyed Pinot Noir even before the movie “Sideways” came out. You have my apologies if you have not seen the movie to understand the reference. I purchased a bottle of the Terra Andina reserve (2006), pinot from Chile, at the Live Oak Market in Appleton. It was recommended highly. After bringing it home and tasting it I know why. Great color, bright nose and a well balanced wine at a more than reasonable price. I usually don’t think about balance when drinking a pinot, as I enjoy each of its diverse characteristics, but this one reminded me of an older Cabernet or Syrah in smoothness and finesse.
On the subject of Pinot Noirs, I have to say that the latest release from Stone’s Throw Winery in Door County, the 2003 Pinot (Carneros) is very fine. It might end up being as good as the ’99. Those who had his (winemaker Russell Turco) 1999 P.N. were truly blessed. It was big and velvety smooth, one of those wines where your jaw dropped after tasting it. I still regret the day that the corked was popped on the last bottle of ‘99 that I had.
Cheers,
Brian |
|
A couple of questions answered
Dec. 26, 2007
A number of people have asked questions which specifically relate to the musicians in the orchestra. Some of these are questions which can be answered with a simple yes or no, and some of the questions may take a little bit more time to answer.
Are the musicians of the FVS paid? Yes they are.
Are there “challenges” to determine seating? This question refers to the practice of having players compete head to head to move up or fall back in the seating order. No there are not. The string sections use a system of rotational seating, i.e. they occupy different chairs within the section at each concert. The only exception is the principal player(s) for each section, who are hired specifically for that position and they stay in that chair.
How do players get to play with the orchestra? All players in the orchestra are auditioned with the exception of a few players who are hired as substitutes, or hired if additional players are needed to expand the orchestra.
Are the orchestra members part of the musicians union? Some of the players are members of the American Federation of Musicians and some are not.
Where do the musicians come from? I don’t think that this person was asking for a discussion about “the birds and the bees” but rather their geographic demographic. Many of the players of the FVS hail from the Fox Cities. There are some musicians who perform regularly with the orchestra who are from Stevens Point, the Milwaukee area and even from Chicago.
One thing that is universal about the players of the orchestra is that although they have a wide variety of backgrounds. All are very interesting and very competent people. If you don’t know one or more of them well, you should take it upon yourself to get to know one or more of them. You will be glad that you did. |
|
A Short True Story
Nov. 12, 2007
“Hey, Mr. Music Man”, she called to me.
I turned around and looked at her. We stood outside of that impressive sanctuary to music, Chicago’s Symphony Center, in the down side of the stair case that led to the underground parking lot. Moments before, I had walked out of the concert hall, dreading that there was yet another social function to go to, feeling tired from the concert and the responsibility of keeping the 200 musicians on stage together, and focused on the meaning of the music. As I entered the stairwell I was listening to the sound that my leather soled shoes created on the ever present city grit on the sidewalk.
“I heard the concert”, she said. I turned around to look at the source of the words. For a moment I wondered if she really had been there. She was obviously homeless; her possessions filled three plastic grocery bags which stood behind her. Each one was filled exactly to the edge with neatly folded clothing and the other essential items which she had to carry with her.
When I saw her stack of Street Wise papers, I walked back toward her. “You don’t have to buy a paper” she said with a strong emphasis on the word you. I tried to purchase at least one Street Wise whenever I was in the city and this day was no exception. Sometimes I would take great evangelistic pride when I would unfold the paper on the train and read each article as I headed toward my home in suburbia. On more than one occasion someone sitting next to me had looked over my shoulder and said something like. “I never realized how much was in one of those” or “that paper is good, maybe I’ll have to start buying it”.
She started to tell me about her evening. “I saved up for this concert for two weeks, selling my papers” she said. What a priority it must have been for her. What had she given up during those two weeks to be able to sit in a velvet seat in that building for two hours? I asked her if she liked the concert and she said that she had and “I wore my green skirt and a white shirt….” I thought about how it would be very difficult to make fashion decisions when your clothing was in a few bags in front of you. It would take a lot of planning. How would you get yourself and your clothes clean at the same time? In my life I have never had to worry like things like that.
She continued talking about the event, the concert. “I liked it, the music was so beautiful”. Is music a necessity or is it a luxury? The question consumed me for days after this brief conversation. To this nice woman who saved for weeks to buy a ticket for a concert to hear music which I had helped make, it seemed that beauty was a necessity in her life. One could think of many other “items” that made more sense for her to buy with the money that it had taken for her to enter that amazing, red carpeted, tall ceilinged temple of great music behind us.
“In the 50’s I danced on that stage.” She seemed to sway back and forth gracefully as we talked as if still hearing the music that made her move. She had danced; she had heard beauty and danced along with it. That time, that memory, still shone in her eyes. She had a fire and a freedom in her look that could not be extinguished even by the difficulties of being homeless. The music she heard and the dance she did with it were still there for her.
“My name is Katie “she said. I told her my name, feeling a little silly because of course she had seen it in the concert program. We talked for a bit and I thanked her for coming to the concert. Our conversation lasted all of three minutes but I have thought about it a great deal since then. Just like the music that gets made, it may last only a few minutes, an hour or perhaps two, but its effect lives on inside of us for much, much longer. It changed me and how I see myself.
Thank you for the paper Katie. Thank you for telling me a little bit about you and helping me think. Thank you for helping me see the value in what I do. By those few words you have helped me. In a very small way I hope that what I do has helped you as well, not just by buying the paper but by letting me bring a little extra beauty into your life. That beauty must be really important to you. It is to me too. Thank you for reminding me. Talk to me again and help me to think about the important questions. I hope to hear “Hey mister music man.” again soon. |
|
A View From The Back
Oct. 22, 2007
On Friday evening I attended a Chicago Symphony concert. Our seats were in the Terrace behind the orchestra. It is my favorite place to sit. One of the reasons that I enjoy sitting there so much is that it is so interesting to hear the orchestra from that direction. An orchestra sounds very different at the back than it does from the front. As their bells point right at you, one can hear the articulation of the horns so clearly that you can almost hear the mechanics of their embouchures. You can hear the exact moment that the timpani mallets strike the head as the sound is produced, and hear every nuance of the snare drum (by the way, the new CSO principal percussionist is an amazing talent).
When I sit there I am reminded of the sheer courage needed to sit in the back of the orchestra and perform. When the members of the brass section play anything that is close to full volume, they rarely hear the front of orchestra. They must rely upon each other and what they see on the podium to keep the front and back of the orchestra together. It is not for the faint of heart.
The sound at any one place on a stage, even on a stage as fine as the Fox Cities Performing Arts Center, is very different than the sound that one hears in the hall itself. There is something magical about the way a good hall takes the direct and the reflected sounds of the players and allows the audience to hear them at the same time.
As I sit in the Terrace, it reinforces my opinion that there is something magical about being on a stage. All of the musicians are working together, producing sounds in a different ways, listening to each, watching each other and watching the person on the podium. They are working to produce something which is taken by the hall and then is carried out to each one that listens. It’s magic. |
|
Several Programming Thoughts
Oct. 10, 2007
Programming a concert, choosing what pieces should be performed and when, is much like fitting together an elaborate but purposeful puzzle. I am often frustrated by the fact that there is so much great music to share with friends and audience and so little time to do so.
Programming a concert season is much like choosing good food or beverage. The Starbucks strategy typifies this. A dozen years ago most of America’s coffee drinkers were faced with precious few decisions: basically, regular or decaf. Now we have a dizzying array of choices. The words “tall skim half decaffeinated dry cappuccino” now actually have meaning to many people. In much the same way programmers must share a wide variety of music with our audience, a variety which promotes choice and supports a diversity of tastes. Give the listener a wide variety, knowing that everything performed is presented with integrity, and they too will learn to distinguish and value those styles that they prefer. Orchestral music is not one style and one character, not just slightly different shades of beige, just like the humans that create the music we hear and enjoy.
The goal of good programming is to both to please and to challenge the audience. There will always be people for whom anything written after 1900 is too strong (new) a flavor, and people for whom anything written before 1800 seems like “baroque by the yard”, to borrow a phrase from a good friend. It is good to keep in mind that most people tend to like what they know. However, feeding your audience a steady diet of only those pieces which they believe they know, and therefore like, has the long term effect of artistic starvation.
Pieces must be chosen that both please and challenge the performers. Orchestral musicians appreciate having a voice in the matter of repertoire. They have strong opinions about what they like to play. At the same time it is a high priority to challenge an ensemble technically and musically in order to contribute to the ensemble’s long term development.
Appropriately, part of the mission of the modern orchestra is to act as a type of aural museum. Through our listening we can come to a greater understanding of ourselves and our cultural past. At the same time it is imperative that today’s ensembles support the continuance and vitality of the art form by supporting the creators of music that still have a pulse.
After individual pieces are chosen with certain goals in mind they still have to be fitted together in some coherent fashion. They can complement each other, in the way a Mozart overture with its clarity and noble style complements a concerto or a symphony by Prokofiev, with great its clarity of form and a certain circumspect viewpoint. They can contrast, as might a modern American overture when paired with a late Romantic symphony.
Once one makes sure that the duration is acceptable (an average length of 76-84 minutes seems to suit today’s audiences), one does a final check of whether or not the ensemble at hand can present a strong performance of the programmed literature in the number of rehearsals available. If not, the answer is usually simple: start over at the beginning and work through the puzzle again. Often when one piece of the puzzle is altered it may be necessary to reprogram an entire season of music to accommodate the new puzzle piece which takes its place.
Just as a steady diet of a smoky dark roast coffee could lead to a constant case of the jitters, a steady diet of late Romantics deprives the aural palate. There is virtue in variety and pleasure in musical balance. It is a great responsibility and honor to spend time fitting together the parts of the programming puzzle in order to create a concert season that pleases, nurtures and explores. |
|
|
|
