THE GADABOUT'S NIGHTMARE

posted by James Reel

Last night I had one of those performance-anxiety dreams. For students and ex-students, it’s the one in which you’ve gotten several weeks into the semester without bothering to attend a particular class, and now you’re hopelessly behind with an exam coming up, and you can’t even find the classroom. For radio announcers, it involves dead air. I have both dreams from time to time. Last night, though, was something that sneaks through my subconscious far less frequency: a dream about actual performance.

It seems I’d been engaged as a piano soloist with the Tucson Symphony. But I hadn’t bothered to prepare, and didn’t even know what piece I was supposed to play. Backstage, I looked at some music, and it turned out to be Janácek’s Capriccio for piano left-hand. Well, not using the right hand would make the job much easier, I thought. I looked at the printed music, and it didn’t seem too hard, but I found myself figuring out the first note on the treble staff by using the old mnenomic “Every Good Boy Deserves Favor,” and I realized that there’s no way I’d be able to pull this off by sight-reading. (I did take a few weeks of group piano lessons many years ago, and got pretty good at playing scales, but my later instrument was the cello, so I’m more comfortable on the bass clef.)

This is pretty mundane as such dreams go; if you’d like to read a much more sophisticated account along the same lines, try the novel The Unconsoled by Kazuo Ishiguro, or, for the linguist’s version of the dream, Metropole by Ferenc Karinthy. The reason I had my own version, I’m sure, is that my brain was telling me I have too many non-KUAT projects coming to fruition, and I’m not quite ready. Let’s take a look at my schedule over the next couple of weeks.

This afternoon, I have to drop off with a director a recording I made of about 60 seconds worth of lines from the play Frankie and Johnny in the Claire de Lune, which is being produced by the new group of which I’m the board president, the Winding Road Theater Ensemble. From there, I’m heading out to Academy Village for a meeting about a course I’ll be teaching in late April and May for the Arizona Senior Academy; the topic will be 19th-century French theater, and aside from having decided which playwrights to cover (Musset, Hugo, Rostand) I’ve put no thought into the project yet. That’s because I have other thigns to worry about before April.

Things like wading through about 350 reviews and features that I have to proofread for the May-June issue of Fanfare magazine (I recently, against my better judgement, agreed to be the magazine’s classical music editor). This coming Monday night I have a Winding Road board meeting, at which, among other things, we’ll be planning a fundraising event for late April. Wednesday night, I need to attend a concert presented by the Arizona Friends of Chamber Music, of which I’m the vice-president and dictator-in-waiting. Next Thursday, I have to help run the box office at the preview performance of Frankie and Johnny, duties I’ll repeat later in the run.

On Feb. 15 I have to give a presentation on the Tucson Winter Chamber Music Festival for a gated community way north of the city. The festival itself will take place March 7–14, during which I’ll be giving the five pre-concert talks and emceeing a special kiddie concert. In conjunction with the festival, I’m co-teaching a chamber-music course for Exploritas (formerly Elderhostel). I’ve done this before, but for this year I really need to revamp my main presentation. Which I haven’t done yet.

Meanwhile, I’ve got gigs scheduled with Chamber Music Plus—not the Chopin program originally announced, but a new version of something I did a few months ago for the Arizona Cultural Forum, in which I play Claude Debussy and Charles Baudelaire, Steve McKee portrays Edgar Alan Poe, and Rex Woods plays some Debussy preludes, in a music/theater piec by Harry Clark exploring the influence of Poe on Debussy and certain French poets. The first performance will be Feb. 19 in Scottsdale, then we’ll do it again two days later in Tucson, possibly with a fundraiser performance in between. At some point in the days leading up to that weekend, we’ll need to rehearse a little. Steve and I will be reading from the script, but there are some complicated segments in which we have to talk over the music.

Let’s see … anything else? Aside from my regular duties at KUAT, that pretty much covers it into the middle of March. Believe me, it’s more than enough.

HOW NOT TO READ A BOOK

posted by James Reel

If I were a good blogger, I would link to a couple of interesting little comments on the classical Grammys, but the Grammys are even less relevant to anything than the Golden Globes. So instead I will offer the second monthly installment of reruns from a column I wrote for a literary e-zine back in the late 1990s. So please bear in mind that a couple references to things that are “current” or “latest” are about a decade out of date.

HOW NOT TO READ A BOOK

There we were, six avid readers with advanced degrees, confessing to one another our shared secret: Each household held a copy—an unread copy—of James Joyce's Ulysses. A sense of relief and embarrassed delight fluttered through our little group; until that moment, I, for one, had assumed that my copy was the only one that sat uncracked upon the shelf. But now I knew I was not the only person in the world who had faked his way through Joyce allusions all his adult life.

It isn't as if we had been intellectually dishonest. We hadn't been buying book-spine facades, little literary Potemkin villages behind which we stashed such cultural humiliations as cheap booze and videos. No, we had purchased actual, tangible books (well, one of us had inherited his Ulysses from his father, who hadn't read the thing either). And I am certain that we each intended to read our books ... eventually.

Don't most of us gaze lovingly and longingly over our collections of great unread books? That sturdy Library of America volume featuring Moby Dick, that yellowed paperback copy of War and Peace that looks like it's seen more of the former than the latter? And don't we swear to ourselves that we will sit down someday and read those fine tomes, right after we finish those much-delayed household projects and look through the magazines that have been piling up?

After all, we haven't bought these books to impress other people. We've bought them because other people have impressed their importance upon us. Our high school teachers, college professors, and friends all mention them with as much reverence as can be mustered in our cynical society. These old texts are continually reissued in new editions, or at least with fresh cover illustrations. They also provide fodder for Hollywood, and not just as material that saves somebody the trouble of writing original screenplays. Go to the latest Star Trek movie, and you'll hear Capt. Picard quote Melville. How could we not get the idea that these are works that we must, someday, read?

We know exactly what they are, of course. The experts compile vast book lists for us to ponder. Every major retail book store displays several copies of Mortimer J. Adler and Charles Van Doren's How to Read a Book. This was first published in 1940, at the height of America's intellectual self-improvement craze, when much of the bourgeoisie launched itself out of mouth-breathing Babbittry into a new cultural category: the middle-brow. The ideal goal of the new bourgeois-gentilhomme was to develop broad taste and knowledge. The actual achievement, more often than not, was to purchase some ready-made library like Encyclopaedia Britannica's Great Books of the Western World and store it prominently near the baby grand piano, which functioned less as a musical instrument than as a flat surface that could accommodate several half-finished martinis.

How to Read a Book, once it's through the how-to part, offers a list of books to practice on. Not coincidentally, the list corresponds to the Great Books series, with a few important additions (but only one living author, Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn). This list is where the trouble begins. I don't mean the tiresome controversy over canonical texts versus diverse voices, but the very existence of reading lists themselves. Over the years the Adler/Van Doren list and others of its ilk have been amplified, trimmed, answered, and counter-argued, and in every case we've wound up with yet another list of books we haven't read, but should.

Twelve members of the English faculty at the university in my city have just issued a reading list for high school students preparing for college study. It's basically the Great Books lineup made a bit more relevant and inclusive—Nicomachus of Gerasa's Introduction to Arithmetic is out, Dereck Walcott's Dream on Monkey Mountain is in. But how many high school kids will slog through the nearly 200 titles here, brawny books ranging from John Dos Passos' USA (counts as one) to Shakespeare's major plays (counts as six), with the odd detour into the works of Zora Neale Hurston and Leslie Marmon Silko? How many adults will make it through each of these volumes? How many of the narrowly specialized members of the university English department have cried "Excelsior!" from atop this bookish butte? Can they really claim an intimate familiarity with both The Federalist Papers and the plays of Wole Soyinka?

But admit it—you're sitting there right now jotting down "Silko" and, if you are truly sick, even "Nicomachus" in preparation for your next trip to the bookstore. You are drawn to book lists exactly as a pubic hair is drawn to the shower drain. If you could just read all these books, you would pull away from a mass of conformity and be swept along, spun around and sucked down into a realm that is dank, twisted, frightening, and excitingly unlike anything in your cramped, sour little existence.

Knowledge is a gap in our vast ignorance, and that gap widens with each intellectually stimulating book we read. So we stockpile recommended books. True, we collect partly for the aesthetic pleasure of seeing the books on our shelves, partly for the smug satisfaction of possessing something that is quantitatively and qualitatively better than what the Joneses own, and partly so we'll have something to do with all that free time we anticipate at the end of the week, or at the end of our lives. But we stockpile mainly in good faith, with the real intention, however long deferred, of adding to ourselves as well as to our libraries.

My friends and I have resolved to read Ulysses by June 16, the date in 1904 on which the novel's action takes place. It looks like a sturdy book, one that can pry those walls of ignorance a bit farther apart.

BLU-RAY OPERA REVIEWS

posted by James Reel

My days as a critic for Fanfare are probably numbered, because I don't have time to do that and perform my new duties as the magazine's music editor (glorified proofreader), a position I inherited when the previous music editor dropped dead over New Year's weekend. So I'll start catching you up on some reviews I've written during the past few months.

HANDEL Admeto • Howard Arman, cond; Matthias Rexroth (Admeto); Romelia Lichtenstein (Alceste); Raimund Nolte (Ercole); Melanie Hirsch (Olindo); Tim Mead (Trasimede); Mechthild Bach (Antigona); Gerd Vogel (Meraspe); Handel Fest O Halle (period instruments) • ARTHAUS 101 258 (Blu-ray: 196:00) Live: Handel Festival Halle 2006

HANDEL Giulio Cesare • William Christie, cond; Sarah Connolly (Giulio Cesare); Patricia Bardon (Cornelia); Angelika Kirchschlager (Sesto); Danielle de Niese (Cleopatra); Rachid Ben Abdeslam (Nireno); Christophe Dumaux (Tolomeo); Christopher Maltman (Achilla); O of the Age of Enlightenment • OPUS ARTE OA BD7024 D (2 blu-ray DVDs: 306:00) Live: Glyndebourne 2005

& Documentary on production; Danielle de Niese and the Glyndebourne Experience; photo galleries; illustrated synopsis

HANDEL Orlando • William Christie, cond; Marijana Mijanović (Orlando); Martina Janková (Angelica); Christina Clark (Dorinda); Katharina Peetz (Medoro); Konstantin Wolff (Zoroastro); Zurich Op “La Scintilla” O (period instruments) • ARTHAUS 101 310 (blu-ray: 155:00) Live: Zurich Opera House 2007

HANDEL Tamerlano • Paul McCreesh, cond; Plácido Domingo (Bajazet); Monica Bacelli (Tamerlano); Ingela Bohlin (Asteria); Jennifer Holloway (Irene); Sara Mingardo (Andronico); Luigi de Donato (Leone); Teatro Real O (Madrid SO) • OPUS ARTE OA BD7022 D (2 blu-ray DVDs: 242:00) Live: Madrid Teatro Real 2008

& Illustrated synopsis; cast gallery; interview with Paul McCreesh

Suddenly we’re awash in Handel operas in the new, high-definition blu-ray video format. Standard DVD issues of two of these items have been reviewed in recent issues of Fanfare, and the other two are new to our pages (and Web site). The production design for three of the projects moves the action closer to our time than to Handel’s, while the fourth receives an abstract, “timeless” setting. If you’re a purist who demands that Handel operas be staged in a way that Handel would have recognized, you’re right that updated versions sometimes miss their mark, but please read on. Updated stagings can also be very successful, and we have one splendid example of that here.

The Glyndebourne production of Giulio Cesare is a resounding success in every department: vocal, orchestral, stage direction (David McVicar), costume and set design (Brigitte Reifenstuel and Robert Jones, respectively), and video direction (Robin Lough). The story, in which Caesar (the excellent Sarah Connolly, convincingly masculine while vocally lithe) ends his own power struggle with Roman general Pompei only to get caught up in an Egyptian power struggle between Cleopatra and her brother, here called Tolomeo, has been moved to the late 19th century. Caesar now represents England’s imperialist ambitions in the Middle East, a period of meddling that has had variations and repercussions to our own day, as we are painfully aware. Barry Brenesal reviewed the initial DVD release in Fanfare 30:1, and declared, “Two things to keep in mind when considering this production: it is both the most sophisticated version of Giulio Cesare on DVD, and the most theatrical. By this I mean that an imaginative, well-considered appraisal of character, plot, language, and music by director David McVicar has been realized on stage in a manner that never disclaims its own achievements.” I heartily agree, and would echo his praise of the vocal performances as well. The long opera moves swiftly, and whenever Handel’s da capo aria patterns threaten to pull the action into stasis (despite the cast’s fine way with ornamentation on the repeats), video director Lough, stage director McVicar, and choreographer Andrew George always come to the rescue with movement, gesture, imagery, and video editing well attuned to the musical patterns. The proceedings are always active, without becoming hectic. And despite some Bollywood-inspired choreography and kittenish Danielle De Niese’s appearance in a flapper outfit in one scene, everyone knows when to rein in the fun for dramatic intensity. The Angelika Kirchschlager-Patricia Bardon duet concluding Act 1 is particularly beautiful, as is De Niese’s Act 2 finale.

What blu-ray adds to all this is increased visual clarity and great richness of color (and of shades of black and gray), plus disc space for a pretty good discussion of the production by the principals, and a superficial but mildly fun account of De Niese’s Glyndebourne experience. Like all the discs under review, this one also contains a narrated synopsis illustrated with visuals from the show (for this is very much a “show”). The aspect ratio is a letterboxed 16:9, with audio formats limited to PCM stereo and PCM 5.0.

Vocal and instrumental performances aside, the production serves Handel much better than, say, Peter Sellars’ interesting but self-conscious staging of the work as a vague parable about contemporary Middle East terrorism (on a Decca DVD). When the director’s concept seems willfully imposed on the work, the result can be more distracting than entertaining. Such is the case with Axel Köhler’s treatment of Admeto, in which the title character’s wife, Alcestis, gives her life to save that of her husband; Admeto sends Hercules off to Hades to bring her back, but meanwhile there are lustful complications involving a mail-order Trojan bride named Antigona and various male figures in Admeto’s court. The libretto contains many direct mythological references, so it’s incongruous to see the action play out anywhere but in the ancient world. Nevertheless, Köhler has moved the story to a contemporary hosptital and garden, with the performers frolicking in contemporary garb, even while they have been coached in Baroque gestures. The vocal performances are unexceptionable but rarely stellar, with Mechthild Bach’s near-coloratura Antigona and Tim Mead’s antagonist raising the average; Howard Arman leads the period-instrument orchestra with liveliness, style, and character. Regarding the staging, it’s nice that Köhler plays up the humorous elements, although he sometimes goes overboard, yet the concept seems superfluous and unilluminating. This is apparently the only video of Admeto currently available, and it will serve Handel fans perfectly well until a more pertinent conception (sung at least as well) comes along. The picture format is 16:9 in superb 1080i resolution; audio is PCM stereo and DTS 7.1. The printed booklet with full track listings and good background material is nice, but there are no video extras aside from a narrated synopsis.

A more effective example of Regietheater is Jens-Daniel Herzog’s treatment of Orlando. Now, in Fanfare 32:4 Ron Salemi dismissed this production as “Eurotrash,” but his reaction (in this one example) suggests that he’s a literalist with little appreciation for anachronisms that work metaphorically. The warrior Orlando is mad with love, and must shake off this “effiminacy” so he can resume his manly battle duties. To me, it makes perfect sense to place the action in a faded but once-luxurious Magic Mountain sort of asylum right after World War I; after all, the distant source of the libretto was Ariosto’s sometimes comic romance Orlando furioso—insanity is what the story is all about. For me, the concept works perfectly well. Compared to the Glyndebourne Giulio Ceasar, though, the acting and movement here are less sophisticated, and Herzog and the cast are less inclined to capitalize on opportunities for humor. I mostly concur with Salemi’s evaluation of the musical performances: “Marijana Mijanović throws herself into the title role with great intensity, but with variable vocal results. … [She produces] a sound very much like a countertenor. Although she is technically accomplished and has no problems with her elaborate music, she frequently aspirates the coloratura, a problem she shares with the Zoroastro, Konstantin Wolff. The best singing comes from the two sopranos, Martina Janková as Angelica and Christina Clark as Dorinda. Katharina Peetz’s Medoro is also very good, and their trio at the end of act I is magical—the highlight of the performance.” Indeed. Technical specifications are identical to those of Admeto, above; aside from a subtitled synopsis narrated in German, there are no extras.

Sometimes, a Regietheater staging that strives a bit too hard for individuality can actually serve a work better than a more mainstream treatment guided by an unimaginative director. Graham Vick presides over a not quite uncut production of Tamerlano; one actually begins to wish for less material, because Vick’s treatment is excruciatingly dull, reminiscent of those New Bayreuth stagings that for the past six decades have given the impression that Wagner is about fat people glowering at each other while the orchestra does all the work. Too often, Vick gives his singers absolutely nothing to do, and the stage falls into such stasis that video director Ángel Luis Ramírez desperately cuts to shots of conductor Paul McCreesh in the pit during the orchestral ritornelli. In Giulio Cesare and, to a lesser extent, the other two works above, the directors’ interventions illuminate the characters’ relationships and motivations. Nothing of the sort happens in this ineffective, stand-and-deliver production, which turns a stage drama into little more than an oratorio with costumes. When Vick does make something happen, it’s usually a bad idea, particularly the way Tamerlano prances around like a hermaphroditic Jack Sparrow without the brain damage. At least Richard Hudson’s set and costume designs are striking; the action plays out against a white semicircular background with a circular opening, over which hangs a huge white globe pressed down by a giant foot (initially, this is all grinding the conquered king Bajazet into the stage). But ultimately all this does is reinforce the production’s milky blandness.

Nevertheless, this production has one remarkable thing going for it: none other than Plácido Domingo as Bajazet. Domingo will never, ever be mistaken for a Baroque specialist, but he makes a noble effort to adapt to the style without forsaking his nature. He’s not entirely comfortable in his early material, and his voice sometimes goes gravelly in the recitatives (which actually suits the downtrodden but resistant Bajazet), but he remains a great and versatile tenor—and a compelling stage presence. Domingo’s face has tremendous character, and through subtle but penetrating vocal and facial expression he conveys more with a single line than the rest of the cast does during the course of the entire opera. His beautifully sung and touchingly dignified death scene absolutely must be included in some future video of Domingo’s career highlights.

The rest of the cast can’t match Domingo’s standard; most of the singers seem, in comparison, little more than adept, nothing special. The better among them are the expressive and vocally versatile Sara Mingardo, and the similarly nuanced Jennifer Holloway, whose only drawback is a vibrato just heavy enough to compromise her ability to color and ornament some of her lines. In the pit, McCreesh elicits a surprisingly idiomatic performance from the modern-instrument Madrid Symphony Orchestra. The disc includes an informative interview with McCreesh. The English subtitles are clunky and old-fashioned, but serviceable. Audio formats are unspectacular but clear and effective PCM stereo and PCM 5.0, with the high-definition video (16:9) going a long way to differentiating the degrees of light and dark on stage. James Reel

MORENO TORROBA Luisa Fernanda • Jesús López-Cobos, cond; Nancy Herrera (Luisa Fernanda); Mariola Cantarero (Duchess Carolina); José Bros (Javier Moreno); Plácido Domingo (Vidal Hernando); Raquel Pierotti (Mariana); Teatro Real O & Ch • BBC/OPUS ARTE 969 D (blu-ray: 132:00) Live: Madrid 2006

Alan Swanson covered the earlier DVD release of this production in Fanfare 31:2; hie thee to our online archive for details. This is a highly engaging work from 1932 about a love triangle during an anti-royalist uprising in 19th-century Spain; the musical style is Spanish Puccini with even catchier tunes (by which I mean the melodies are built from short, memorable phrases rather than long operatic lines). You need only see and hear Nancy Herrera for a few seconds to think, “What a perfect Carmen she’d be.” Indeed, she has sung that role many times; here, she’s not a dangerous gypsy vamp but an ordinary middle-class woman torn between two lovers: a brash, womanizing, ambitious royalist and military man (sung ringingly by José Bros) and an earnest and stable country gentleman who falls in with the rebels (the superb Plácido Domingo, venturing into high baritone territory). In every respect—composition, singing, orchestral management by Jesús López-Cobos, stage direction and set design by Emilio Sagi, everything) the production is a delight. Look up Alan Swanson’s original review for details. The high-definition video format is perfect for keeping the deep blacks and bright whites in balance, never allowing the light colors to flare or bloom or the dark patches to turn the overall picture murky. As usual with Opus Arte, the audio options are limited to stereo and 5.0 PCM. Extras include a narrated synopsis, and good interviews with Domingo and the stage director and conductor. This is an endearing work, lovingly presented. James Reel

DA CAPO AL FINE

posted by James Reel

While cleaning out my music database, I've discovered that St. Paul Sunday has been running the same programs the same week of every year for something like four years. Have you noticed? Do you care?

TSO CUTS--IN CASE YOU MISSED THE MEMO

posted by James Reel

Here's the announcement of cutbacks at the Tucson Symphony Orchestra, although I don't think this press release mentions that the musicians reportedly took a 30-percent cut in pay...

TUCSON SYMPHONY ORCHESTRA ANNOUNCES

PROGRAMMING ADJUSTMENTS TO CLASSICS AND TSO POPS! SERIES IN 2010/11-82ND SEASON

LANG LANG, BERNADETTE PETERS PERFORMANCES

AMONG SEASON HIGHLIGHTS

(Tucson, AZ)—The Tucson Symphony Orchestra today announced the following changes to begin in the 2010/11—82nd season:

* The Classic Series will be reduced from nine to seven programs running October through April. Friday evenings will continue and Sunday matinee performances will be offered for all seven programs. Thursday evening performances will not be continued. Popular pre-concert talks by Music Director and Conductor George Hanson on Friday evenings at 7:00 pm will continue and pre-concert talks have been added to all Sunday matinee performances at 1:00 pm.

* The TSO Pops! Series will be reduced from five to four programs starting in December with the annual Holiday Spectacular and running through March. Saturday evening and Sunday matinee performances will continue, but there will be no Friday evening performances.

* The Moveable Musical Feasts and the Recital Series in Tucson and Green Valley will be suspended.

* The Green Valley shuttle to Thursday Classics and Sunday TSO Pops! will be discontinued.

In making the announcement, TSO Executive Director Susan Franano said, “These changes are consistent with meeting TSO’s mission and public service obligation, with stabilizing our financial condition in recessionary times, and with maintaining a high quality TSO season—all for the benefit of our patrons and our community.” Citing the economic downturn in the fourth quarter of 2008, Ms. Franano explained that it was too late then to make programming changes for the 2009/10—81st season, which will continue as planned through the final Classic Series performances on April 22nd and 23rd.

The strategic changes made by the TSO Board of Trustees are designed to make the most of the TSO’s reduced resources and still allow all patrons to continue to experience the joy of hearing great symphonic music. Many TSO subscribers will not be affected by these changes. Those subscribers who are affected have received phone calls from board members explaining the changes along with the TSO’s sincere commitment to make the transition as smooth as possible.

“Our priority always is to bring you the finest music at the highest level of performance possible and we are very confident you will find the 2010/11 – 82nd Season to be exciting, accessible and affordable,” said George Hanson. “These adjustments will result in a positive outcome for everyone who loves the TSO and is dedicated to ensuring that the orchestra remains true to its mission, “to transform lives through music.”

The TSO Classic Series Special will continue unaffected with guest artist, pianist and international superstar Lang Lang performing the beloved Rachmaninoff Second Piano Concerto on Monday, January 10, 2011 at the Tucson Music Hall. The TSO Pops! Specials will also not be affected: one of the biggest stars of Broadway and film, Bernadette Peters, will headline one TSO Pops! Special on March 19, 2011. Jeans ‘N Classics: “Take It to the Limit”—The Music of The Eagles will be the second TSO Pops! Special next season. There will be two performances of The MasterWorks Special, Handel’s Messiah at 2:00 pm and 8:00 pm on December 4, 2010.

Highlights on the Classic Series include Beethoven’s masterpiece Symphony No. 3 “Eroica,” Franck’s audience-favorite Symphony in D Minor, the magnificent Pines of Rome by Respighi and Mussorgsky/Ravel’s exciting Pictures at an Exhibition. Terrence Wilson returns to perform music of the great piano virtuoso Franz Liszt and violin virtuoso Dylana Jenson performs the sparkling Symphonie Espagnole of Lalo in a long-awaited return to the TSO stage.

TSO Pops! Series highlights include OZ with Orchestra—a showing of the re-mastered full-length Wizard of Oz film with the score played live by the TSO, the return of Steve Lippia with his signature smooth vocal styling of the hits of Frank Sinatra, Tony Bennett, Nat King Cole and other greats of that era, and A Night at the Oscars.

There will be no change to the MasterWorks Chamber Orchestra Series which will open with George Hanson hosting “Stars of the Symphony” featuring TSO String, Brass and Wind Ensembles on November 6 and 7, 2010. The MasterWorks Series, which receives generous support from Drs. John P. and Helen S. Schaefer, continues with performances of works by Mozart, Schumann, Beethoven and more with guest soloists including pianist Grace Fong, the 2009 Christel DeHaan Classical Fellow of the American Pianists Association, and TSO Concertmaster Aaron Boyd.

Renewals for the TSO’s 2010/11—82nd season will begin the week of January 25 when subscribers receive their season brochure and renewal packet.

In addition to changes in public performances, various TSO education programs have been adjusted. Just for Kids, KinderKonzerts, Music in the Schools (MIS) and the Young People’s Concerts will continue to be offered at a reduced level. The Young Composers Project is unaffected, as is the Young Artists Competition.

MAJOR/MINOR

posted by James Reel

Have you ever wondered exactly WHY we perceive much major-mode music to be happy and most minor-mode music to be sad? Well, here is a possible scientific explanation. (If the link takes you to a registration page, just click past it.)