As the 2008 – 2009 season gathers steam and prepares to launch itself down the track, I'm discussing upcoming offerings from our major Bay Area ensembles. In the case of the New Century Chamber Orchestra, I'm moved to meditate on tradition, innovation, concert programming, and really the structure of concert life altogether. I intend, somehow, to lead from such a broad base into an article covering a wonderfully creative ensemble's strategies for making music with vitality and panache.
Never let it be said that S.F. Classical Music Examiner goes in for puff pieces.
The movie Amadeus depicts an iconoclastic Wolfgang Mozart struggling against stifling conservatism, as he attempts to introduce ambitious repertory into a Viennese culture resolutely stuck in the old opera seria rut of mythological plots and da capo arias. "Which one of you wouldn't rather listen to your hairdresser than Hercules?" he blurts out in exasperation.
It's great drama, but lousy history. Mozart was no applecart-upsetter, nor were his contemporaries hidebound fuddy-duddies in any sense we would recognize today. In Mozart's era (i.e., the late 18th century), the music presented to audiences was almost entirely contemporary, written for immediate profit and pleasure, generally free from notions about Great Art or the judgment of posterity. That stuff came later.
The "canon" of Western classical music arose in the mid-19th century largely in response to the dual phenomena of touring virtuosos and the establishment of full-time civic orchestras such as the Berlin and Vienna Philharmonics. Everyday folks acquired the habit of attending concerts on a regular basis, and the music world changed dramatically in response.
Take a moment to imagine yourself as a music lover in a culturally-aware city, in 1860 or thereabouts. Thanks to your new civic orchestra, you've been exposed to symphonies by Mozart, Beethoven, Schumann, and Mendelssohn. You're also aware that some works of these posthumous composers are being heralded as "standard repertory" — i.e., works considered relatively resistant to the whims of everyday fashion. A reasonable familiarity with this repertory is being touted as a vital component of any well-educated person's intellectual baggage, so you're eager to hear as much of it as you can.
But how well, really, do you know any of those pieces? The answer: not very. After all, your listening is constrained by the local orchestra's schedule; if Beethoven's Eroica, say, isn't part of the season, you aren't going to hear it. (Otherwise your options are to play it yourself on the piano from score — not an easy task then or now — or perhaps in an arrangement.) And even if the Eroica is to be performed, you're likely to have only a single crack at it unless you're just made out of money and can affort to hang out nightly at the Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde.
Can anybody in today's media-soaked world really understand what such limitation meant? After all, we can hear the Eroica at the flick of a switch or the click of a mouse. But not even the most dedicated 19th century concertgoer could acquire the familiarity with the established repertory that we now take for granted; he or she might hear the Eroica a half-dozen times in a lifetime. Our audience forebears wanted to hear Beethoven, and not the latest fad — thus orchestras programmed Beethoven with dependable regularity. It makes perfect sense under such circumstances.
The 20th century saw the rise of the recording industry, which simultaneously strengthened and weakened audience conservatism. The strengthening came from the undeniable profits to be made by well-known artists recording well-known works — thus the 245 renditions of Beethoven's Fifth currently available on ArkivMusic. The weakening came about from the opportunity to record lesser-known works, thereby broadening repertory consciousness — thus the 18 recordings of Bach's Coffee Cantata also available on ArkivMusic. "Music Appreciation" as a populist pastime really came into its own with the advent of records. People started getting curious about all kinds of music.
Modern critics typically speak of traditional programming as focusing on those "basic 50 pieces", to paraphrase Virgil Thomson. Nobody denies that those works continue to deserve an honored place on concert programs; they're classics for a reason. But what, exactly, constitutes "innovation"? More often than not, "innovative" is little more than a code word for "programming contemporary music." As such, ensembles boasting of their "innovative" programs have little to brag about, really; they're doing nothing more than swimming in the general current of music history, when all music was new and nobody griped about those basic 50 pieces.
So what can we identify as real innovation in the early 21st century? I propose San Francisco's New Century Chamber Orchestra as an exemplar of the modern ensemble that avoids both dry rot and cliché, while at the same time recognizes that innovation cannot thrive without a solid foundation.
I spoke with incoming music director Nadja Salerno-Sonnenberg (pictured to the right) about this issue. "Balance," she says, "has every single time proven to work. If you're talking about what you eat or how much you exercise, it's all about balance...If you have such a strong foundation (which is clearly there in the NCCO — they've been around for a while and know the ropes)...Then you have a lot to work with."
Salerno-Sonnenberg emphasizes that the NCCO's repertory must encompass more than basic literature for string orchestra or standard chamber music. Of course that repertory is important — foundational — but there's a lot of music out there that doesn't fit into the typical "classical music" box. As she points out: "You’re talking about the same seven notes, rearranged...the Assads or Mandy Patinkin or non-classical musicians; it’s still vibrant music making. It can only add to you as a player, and even when you go back to the meat and potatoes...it’s a welcome addition."
Therefore the New Century enjoys a perspective that recognizes the worth of the traditional canon, yet enriches that repertory by reaching out and over those arbitrary boundaries between contemporary, traditional, classical, world, and popular music. So, for example, Mozart's Eine Kleine Nachtmusik (standard rep if ever there were) will be paired with Bernard Herrmann's famed score for Psycho for the May 2009 program of night music, called "Shadows and Light", while a December program partners Bach with holiday music from around the globe.
I spoke at length with executive director Parker Monroe, who pointed out that a sense of exploration has been encoded in the orchestra's DNA from its inception: "It was sort of the original impulse of the group, [which was] formed by musicians who had had enough of batons, formed mostly by busy freelance musicians and musicians from the opera orchestra, who wanted some freedom and wanted it to be musician-driven...It means getting away from the quotidian and the established way of doing things."
Certainly the NCCO's discography bears that out; you will look in vain for the usual fare of divertimenti and Viennese Classical symphonies. There's a disc of Frank Martin's chamber orchestra works, for example; Martin reminds me a bit of Delius, in that both were writers of gentle music for rarefied sensibilities, and as such are frequently overlooked. Another disc pairs two Albertos (Ginastera and Williams), while Shostakovich's string symphonies (Op. 118a and 110a, the orchestrated version of the Eighth Quartet) make up another well-received album. Recently Kurt Rohde's Oculus has been given a royal treatment on CD by the NCCO.
Yet at the same time, Monroe identifies continuity and a secure foundation as cherished values: "Going into our 17th season, we’ve got a lot of the original members of the orchestra here. They are in because it is something different and [because] the members feel enfranchised."
Committed audiences are obviously a critical component to the NCCO's success. As Monroe puts it: "they are coming to be challenged, and they are also coming to be pleased." These are by means contradictory requirements, as the NCCO has proven again and again during the past sixteen years.
Thinking globally, the orchestra has chosen a September menu of works from Brazil and Argentina — Ginastera, Piazzolla and Villa-Lobos, especially including the world premiere performance of Clarice Assad's Impressions, a suite for chamber orchestra. (Assad — pictured to the right — has arranged the Villa-Lobos, Bachianas Brasileiras No.5, originally set for eight cellos and soprano.)
The Piazzolla work, Four Seasons of Buenos Aires (arranged by Leonid Desyatnikov), clearly honors the past with its titular reference to Vivaldi's ultra-hit string concerto; the NCCO plans to record the work on NSS Music (Salerno-Sonnenberg's label) around the same time as the September concerts. (If you'd like to listen up a bit in advance, here's the Kremarata Baltica recording.)
Future programs include a December holiday celebration which fuses Bach with traditional holiday music, a Russian program in March, and that exploration of "Shadows and Light" for the season's end in May.
All of this marvelous creative thinking doesn't guarantee the NCCO a slam-dunk, alas. For one thing, our economy is running a bit shakily at present. For another, the New Century isn't the only imaginative ensemble in this Bay Area of ours, a place with a long-standing tradition of subverting tradition. (Just glance over Bay Area orchestra offerings for this year, and you'll see what I mean.) Having a brilliant solo violinist at the helm is unusual for a chamber orchestra, although not unheard of — Kremerata Baltica, led by über-fiddler Gideon Kremer, being the obvious example.
But I, for one, will be astonished if this forthcoming season turns out to be anything less than a grand success.
Parker Monroe echoes Nadja Salerno-Sonnenberg's excitement and enthusiasm: "There is a hope and expectation that we’re going to go someplace exciting. I think that we will."
The New Century Chamber Orchestra kicks off the fall season with concerts on September 11, 13, 14, and 16 in various venues throughout the Bay Area, with the September 13th here in San Francisco at the Herbst Theater. Tickets and such can be found here.
For your viewing pleasure, here's Nadja Salerno-Sonnenberg on both the new season in general and the September programs in particular.
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