Rule no. 2 - When the composer is wrong, look at rule no. 1...
Wait! Stop! It is slightly more complicated than that.
These past few months I have been juggling between two different piano concerti. Both are new to me, and although at an opposite realm, interestingly they raised similar questions. I am referring to Chopin's concerto no. 2, and Avner Dorman's new piano concerto "Lost Souls". The first of these has already proven itself through the test of time, while the other is barely four months old.
When learning these two wonderful works, a number of times I came across places that made me wonder whether the composer perhaps made a mistake. Maybe a wrong note... should I change it? a wrong choice of register... should I take it up an octave? possibly too many notes... can I drop a few?
The Dorman concerto, in a way, is still a "piece in process and progress"... It is not "finished", and I have the composer "at hand" to ask. A great and unique partnership is created when composer and performer collaborate and nourish each other. With Chopin, though, it is somewhat different. Can I have any doubts about what is in front of me?
What was fascinating was that through working on the Dorman concerto (with the composer), and experiencing the evolution of the piece, I began to challenge the Chopin concerto with questions. These questions Chopin did not need to answer. This was my "job". The questions ranged from choice of dynamics, articulation markings, texture, and even form. A real conversation emerged which at times became a loud argument between me and the piece.
I belong to a "school" that proclaims that the performer is at the service of the music. He needs to convey the message behind the notes. The music is at the center – it is "the star", while the performer, although absolutely indispensable, is the tool that translate those black dots on the page, and inject life into them.
I said "at the service of the music". Does this also mean at the service of the composer? Can the composer be separated from his music?
The late composer Ben Zion Orgad told me once that "if a piece is good, then at a certain point it spreads its wings and fly away from the composer. It becomes independent of its creator." This is a profound statement! It can be liberating for the performer but also dangerous. The composer is the creator. He knows what he wants! The performer, however, is the one that will make the work… work. What happens then when the performer has a different view of the piece than the composer? This is a VERY delicate issue.
I remember years ago when Ben Zion Orgad gave me his newest piano work.It had no dynamics or articulation markings! He asked me to add them. In the process of learning the piece I added my interpretative markings (including articulations and dynamics). He then showed me the same piece, this time though, with all his desired markings and we compared. To a large extent we were identical, and at the places that we differed, it was very difficult for me to accept his requests. By making me part of the creative process, I also became the creator. Taking this a step further, however we look at this, we - performers are also creators! Fortunately, I played Orgad's new work numerous times, and gave it different interpretations - with his markings, and mine – both sounded convincing.
Several times throughout my life I was asked about the opportunities to work with living composers. And my response always came as somewhat of a surprise. To work with composers such as Orgad, or Dorman is a revelation, regardless of whether it is on their pieces or someone else. I learned a lot from them because they are very creative, imaginative and I trust their ears. That applies to whatever piece I play for them. It might actually be theirs...
I believe that everything there is to know about the music is on the page, and the answers are between those little black dots. What is between those "dots" tells the performer the message, the story of the piece. The beauty is that it can and should tell different stories to different performers, which may be indeed different than the composer's story. I guess this is part of what we call interpretation.
At a Gala presentation event in Kansas City before the world premiere of his concerto, Avner Dorman shared with the audience the narrative behind his new piece. This narrative I did not hear until that point. By that time, I already developed my own concept and story of the piece, and it was quite different. Who is right then? No doubt, Avner!! After all he wrote the piece. However, if we want the piece to have a life of its own then new narratives, new stories, new questions about interpretation, articulation etc, are all relevant and are all an integral part of the internal dialogue that is created between the music, the performer, the audience and.... oh, yes, the composer as well.
Alon Goldstein
Showing posts with label Avner Dorman. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Avner Dorman. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Friday, December 4, 2009
"Lost Souls" A (new) Piano Concerto
The world premiere of "Lost Souls" - A piano concerto, by Avner Dorman with Michael Stern conducting the Kansas City Symphony Orchestra and Alon Goldstein soloist, November 2009.
Two and a half years ago my manager Frank Salomon initiated the idea of commissioning a new piano concerto for me, and last week the premiere took place in Kansas City. Has it really been that long for the whole project, from its inception to the premiere? Well... Yes!
From the choice of Avner Dorman as the composer, to "seducing" the right conductor (Michael Stern) and his orchestra (KC Symphony), to raising the sufficient funds, etc etc - all went quite smoothly, and yet it took two and a half years! And what an experience it was - a week of discovery, and revelation, of witnessing the birth of a wonderful new piano concerto.
When I perform with an orchestra, whether Mozart or Beethoven, Schumann or Rachmaninov, the days of rehearsals are devoted to building the interpretation, the performance. We don't have to "worry" about the piece. It has already proven itself. It transcended time and place. It is settled. Our time is spent on making our understanding of the piece work.
When premiering a new piece, the center of our attention falls on helping the piece settle as a new entity. Similar to helping a new baby stand on his two feet, we help the piece stands on its 337,486... notes. Of course a good performance helps.
What was so revealing, so rewarding, intriguing, and interesting was to witness how through the course of the week a miracle - a new piece - is taking shape in front of our eyes (and ears). The "new" notes start to gravitate towards each other like magnets - one note equals one letter, together with another note... they become a syllable. Three notes - perhaps already a word. Four notes, then five, adding rhythm... we are on our way to making a sentence, a phrase. A few of these and we have a paragraph, then a page, a chapter, and before we know it, we have a whole story!
Lost Souls is very much "of our time" - Multiculturalism. It brings a spirit from the past into the present and examines what happens when it clashes with our age. As Michael Stern told the orchestra at one point: "think that you are sitting in the "Oak Room" in New York around a few Jazz players having a Martini with Rachmaninov..." Or as Michael McCurdy from Schirmer publications wrote that in this "globalized culture Art Tatum and Johann Sebastian Bach converse on the Ouija board of the 21st century."
Avner and I were contemplating about the reasons why in the last sixty years there has not been a piano concerto that entered the repertoire in a way that Bartok and Prokofiev have been. Is the genre obsolete? Is the content the problem? The composers? Do we need another piano concerto?
The answer is a resounding... No!
...and Yes!!
No, because the orchestra does all that it can to drive the spirit away at the end. But Yes, because indeed we have a new piano concerto which in time, I hope, will enter the repertoire.
I am not the Father of this new concerto. That would be Avner.
I am also not the Son... would that be Michael?
How about the Holy Ghost....? I think that actually works perfectly with the content!
To understand that, though, as well as to read more from the composer and the press I suggest clicking on Lost Souls.
The Lost Souls will conjure again, this time with the Fairfax symphony on March 13, 2010.
Alon Goldstein
Two and a half years ago my manager Frank Salomon initiated the idea of commissioning a new piano concerto for me, and last week the premiere took place in Kansas City. Has it really been that long for the whole project, from its inception to the premiere? Well... Yes!
From the choice of Avner Dorman as the composer, to "seducing" the right conductor (Michael Stern) and his orchestra (KC Symphony), to raising the sufficient funds, etc etc - all went quite smoothly, and yet it took two and a half years! And what an experience it was - a week of discovery, and revelation, of witnessing the birth of a wonderful new piano concerto.
When I perform with an orchestra, whether Mozart or Beethoven, Schumann or Rachmaninov, the days of rehearsals are devoted to building the interpretation, the performance. We don't have to "worry" about the piece. It has already proven itself. It transcended time and place. It is settled. Our time is spent on making our understanding of the piece work.
When premiering a new piece, the center of our attention falls on helping the piece settle as a new entity. Similar to helping a new baby stand on his two feet, we help the piece stands on its 337,486... notes. Of course a good performance helps.
What was so revealing, so rewarding, intriguing, and interesting was to witness how through the course of the week a miracle - a new piece - is taking shape in front of our eyes (and ears). The "new" notes start to gravitate towards each other like magnets - one note equals one letter, together with another note... they become a syllable. Three notes - perhaps already a word. Four notes, then five, adding rhythm... we are on our way to making a sentence, a phrase. A few of these and we have a paragraph, then a page, a chapter, and before we know it, we have a whole story!
Lost Souls is very much "of our time" - Multiculturalism. It brings a spirit from the past into the present and examines what happens when it clashes with our age. As Michael Stern told the orchestra at one point: "think that you are sitting in the "Oak Room" in New York around a few Jazz players having a Martini with Rachmaninov..." Or as Michael McCurdy from Schirmer publications wrote that in this "globalized culture Art Tatum and Johann Sebastian Bach converse on the Ouija board of the 21st century."
Avner and I were contemplating about the reasons why in the last sixty years there has not been a piano concerto that entered the repertoire in a way that Bartok and Prokofiev have been. Is the genre obsolete? Is the content the problem? The composers? Do we need another piano concerto?
The answer is a resounding... No!
...and Yes!!
No, because the orchestra does all that it can to drive the spirit away at the end. But Yes, because indeed we have a new piano concerto which in time, I hope, will enter the repertoire.
I am not the Father of this new concerto. That would be Avner.
I am also not the Son... would that be Michael?
How about the Holy Ghost....? I think that actually works perfectly with the content!
To understand that, though, as well as to read more from the composer and the press I suggest clicking on Lost Souls.
The Lost Souls will conjure again, this time with the Fairfax symphony on March 13, 2010.
Alon Goldstein
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
The Road Not Existed...
There are big cities, there are small cities, there are tiny little cities, and then there is Tiffin Ohio. This American city brought about yet another big smiling question mark on the face of Laurence, my relative from New York. Other than telling me with his witty touch of cynicism "it is my favorite city", or "been there many times...", he seemed to be at a loss in terms of its geographical whereabouts. He would not even admit that it is within the continental United States.
So there was no surprise when after asking the journalist that interviewed me from the local newspaper about Tiffin's tourist destinations or places to eat... all I heard was laughter. To be more accurate: regarding places to eat, I was advised to drive out of town, and in terms of places to see... well, it seemed that the biggest attraction within a 50 miles radius was the interstate that takes you North or South of here! But I like traveling, especially when no expectations are involved. This trip to Ohio included three solo recitals - Tiffin, Dayton and Cincinnati.
After landing in Cincinnati airport and getting my rental car, I looked at the map and saw that to get to Tiffin, one only needed to go North on the interstate and turn East at one point. That's all. My hard working manager - Jennifer - equipped me with directions from Yahoo map, to be on the "safe" side. These directions, however, showed a much more "contrapuntal" way to reach Tiffin - one that when placed
next to the most complex of Bach's fugues, would probably prove superior in its intricacy, and its use of deceptive cadences. In other words there were quite a few dead-ends! I saved it for posterity.
For the love of traveling I went for excitement and took the road less traveled. What followed, though, reminded me of Frost's famous poem "The road not taken". But I will have to rename it to "The road not existed!" Battling with countless of country roads, byways, bicycle trails, foot paths, sidewalks as well as all sorts of non-grooved ways, I finally reached my destination... three hours or so late. I used "the Schwartz".
After settling in my hotel, I went to look for the hall. At this point I have lost my sense of adventure... and asked in the lobby for the directions!
Initially, when learning about this engagement. I was expecting to play in a small shabby looking barn or something like that. I understood that this presenter wanted to introduce classical music to his community and so forth. I was happy to come.
How surprised I was to find out that this was not a small barn, but rather a stunning-looking theatre from the 1920s that hosts a series of serious productions each year. Between the Broadway productions, and other big events, there was me and my solo piano recital going on tomorrow night...
Every now and then when I travel in the US, I come across a theatre from the earlier part of the twentieth century, which ends up being truly a jewel - a real beauty that has been preserved, renovated and cherished by special people in the community, that would not let it turn into a parking lot, or just deteriorate. A few of such theatres which I had the opportunity to perform at include the Coronado theatre in Rockford Illinois; the Ohio theatre in Columbus Ohio; the Old opera house in Franklin New Hampshire; Powers auditorium in Youngstown Ohio and the "Ritz Theatre" here in Tiffin Ohio.
Most of these halls, as is the case with this one, started as movie theatres. For me, just to be in such places, looking at the intricate plaster work, absorbing the inspirations for the interior design - Italian Renaissance or Greek - observing the atmospheric lighting, embracing the warmth, all this is very memorable. It is tangible!
My recital included works by Bach, Janacek, Debussy, Schubert, and my friend Avner Dorman. Each piece in this recital program seemed to have drawn its inspiration from a different source - whether religious as in the arrangements from the Bach Cantatas; current events, which inspired the Janacek sonata; a picture from the French Rococo period influencing Debussy; nature scenes and German poetry coming to life in Schubert's Impromptus and an individual (the legendary Jazz pianist Art Tatum) which inspired Avner Dorman's 2nd sonata.
I started with the Bach, in order to get the audience (and myself) "into the zone", into the state of concentration from which all else can then unfold.
The Janacek is a favourite piece of mine. One of the reasons is that I don't think it is "music for the piano". I will explain: unlike composers such as Mozart, Beethoven, Liszt or Chopin, who understood the piano intimately, Janacek's expressive (at times explosive) piano sonata seems to have written without the instrument in mind. This tragic score rather than written FOR the piano, it is music first and foremost! played AT the piano.
One of the advantages of playing a piece like the 2nd sonata by Israeli composer Avner Dorman is that after it ends, you feel that the audience is in a "shock". They did not expect something like that - that a contemporary work by a composer they haven't yet heard of, will bring them to such enthusiastic response. The sonata's colorful, poetic / somewhat melancholic opening movement is coupled with an outburst of immense energy and rhythmic power in the closing second movement. This is a tremendous showcase of creativity and imagination.
Following intermission I played Debussy's "Island of joy". Dated September 1904, Debussy wrote gaily about it “Heavens! How difficult it is to play… This piece seems to embrace every possible manner of treating the piano, combining as it does strength and grace…if I may presume to say so.” Indeed this is a world that unites joy and pathos, humor and love. In Debussy’s score, rhythmic control and suppleness exist side by side, and intoxicating dance rhythms mix with surging melody.
Schubert's sublime first set of Impromptus culminated the program. These pieces have a depth of feeling and Romantic intensity from true happiness to the most profound longing. Childlike innocence mixes with spiritual darkness. Optimism and hope confronts a reality of solitude and poverty. The composer of more than 600 songs is writing here four extremely poetic masterpieces. The range of emotions expressed in these exquisitely beautiful pieces is overwhelming. Schubert, who died at age 31, was able to reconcile the so called Classical style with the Romantic spirit of freedom and emotional extremity. The song-like quality of these jewels comes across also in the more agitated second and forth impromptus which are fast but lyrical without any intention of sheer virtuosic display. The picturesque characteristics found in Schubert’s songs are an essential part of this music – nature, the rippling brook, the un-attained love, the loneliness of the wanderer, the feeling of being a stranger in any land, breathlessness of hope as well as resignation and despair, and many more.
At the end of the recital I felt grateful at the opportunity to play in this hall, and for this audience who most likely experienced this music just now for the first time.
The next morning, as I was heading to Dayton I decided (if you don't mind) to take "The road existed"...
Alon Goldstein
So there was no surprise when after asking the journalist that interviewed me from the local newspaper about Tiffin's tourist destinations or places to eat... all I heard was laughter. To be more accurate: regarding places to eat, I was advised to drive out of town, and in terms of places to see... well, it seemed that the biggest attraction within a 50 miles radius was the interstate that takes you North or South of here! But I like traveling, especially when no expectations are involved. This trip to Ohio included three solo recitals - Tiffin, Dayton and Cincinnati.
After landing in Cincinnati airport and getting my rental car, I looked at the map and saw that to get to Tiffin, one only needed to go North on the interstate and turn East at one point. That's all. My hard working manager - Jennifer - equipped me with directions from Yahoo map, to be on the "safe" side. These directions, however, showed a much more "contrapuntal" way to reach Tiffin - one that when placed
next to the most complex of Bach's fugues, would probably prove superior in its intricacy, and its use of deceptive cadences. In other words there were quite a few dead-ends! I saved it for posterity.For the love of traveling I went for excitement and took the road less traveled. What followed, though, reminded me of Frost's famous poem "The road not taken". But I will have to rename it to "The road not existed!" Battling with countless of country roads, byways, bicycle trails, foot paths, sidewalks as well as all sorts of non-grooved ways, I finally reached my destination... three hours or so late. I used "the Schwartz".
After settling in my hotel, I went to look for the hall. At this point I have lost my sense of adventure... and asked in the lobby for the directions!
Initially, when learning about this engagement. I was expecting to play in a small shabby looking barn or something like that. I understood that this presenter wanted to introduce classical music to his community and so forth. I was happy to come.
How surprised I was to find out that this was not a small barn, but rather a stunning-looking theatre from the 1920s that hosts a series of serious productions each year. Between the Broadway productions, and other big events, there was me and my solo piano recital going on tomorrow night...
Every now and then when I travel in the US, I come across a theatre from the earlier part of the twentieth century, which ends up being truly a jewel - a real beauty that has been preserved, renovated and cherished by special people in the community, that would not let it turn into a parking lot, or just deteriorate. A few of such theatres which I had the opportunity to perform at include the Coronado theatre in Rockford Illinois; the Ohio theatre in Columbus Ohio; the Old opera house in Franklin New Hampshire; Powers auditorium in Youngstown Ohio and the "Ritz Theatre" here in Tiffin Ohio.
Most of these halls, as is the case with this one, started as movie theatres. For me, just to be in such places, looking at the intricate plaster work, absorbing the inspirations for the interior design - Italian Renaissance or Greek - observing the atmospheric lighting, embracing the warmth, all this is very memorable. It is tangible!
My recital included works by Bach, Janacek, Debussy, Schubert, and my friend Avner Dorman. Each piece in this recital program seemed to have drawn its inspiration from a different source - whether religious as in the arrangements from the Bach Cantatas; current events, which inspired the Janacek sonata; a picture from the French Rococo period influencing Debussy; nature scenes and German poetry coming to life in Schubert's Impromptus and an individual (the legendary Jazz pianist Art Tatum) which inspired Avner Dorman's 2nd sonata.
I started with the Bach, in order to get the audience (and myself) "into the zone", into the state of concentration from which all else can then unfold.
The Janacek is a favourite piece of mine. One of the reasons is that I don't think it is "music for the piano". I will explain: unlike composers such as Mozart, Beethoven, Liszt or Chopin, who understood the piano intimately, Janacek's expressive (at times explosive) piano sonata seems to have written without the instrument in mind. This tragic score rather than written FOR the piano, it is music first and foremost! played AT the piano.
One of the advantages of playing a piece like the 2nd sonata by Israeli composer Avner Dorman is that after it ends, you feel that the audience is in a "shock". They did not expect something like that - that a contemporary work by a composer they haven't yet heard of, will bring them to such enthusiastic response. The sonata's colorful, poetic / somewhat melancholic opening movement is coupled with an outburst of immense energy and rhythmic power in the closing second movement. This is a tremendous showcase of creativity and imagination.
Following intermission I played Debussy's "Island of joy". Dated September 1904, Debussy wrote gaily about it “Heavens! How difficult it is to play… This piece seems to embrace every possible manner of treating the piano, combining as it does strength and grace…if I may presume to say so.” Indeed this is a world that unites joy and pathos, humor and love. In Debussy’s score, rhythmic control and suppleness exist side by side, and intoxicating dance rhythms mix with surging melody.
Schubert's sublime first set of Impromptus culminated the program. These pieces have a depth of feeling and Romantic intensity from true happiness to the most profound longing. Childlike innocence mixes with spiritual darkness. Optimism and hope confronts a reality of solitude and poverty. The composer of more than 600 songs is writing here four extremely poetic masterpieces. The range of emotions expressed in these exquisitely beautiful pieces is overwhelming. Schubert, who died at age 31, was able to reconcile the so called Classical style with the Romantic spirit of freedom and emotional extremity. The song-like quality of these jewels comes across also in the more agitated second and forth impromptus which are fast but lyrical without any intention of sheer virtuosic display. The picturesque characteristics found in Schubert’s songs are an essential part of this music – nature, the rippling brook, the un-attained love, the loneliness of the wanderer, the feeling of being a stranger in any land, breathlessness of hope as well as resignation and despair, and many more.
At the end of the recital I felt grateful at the opportunity to play in this hall, and for this audience who most likely experienced this music just now for the first time.
The next morning, as I was heading to Dayton I decided (if you don't mind) to take "The road existed"...
Alon Goldstein
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)