Advertisement
Stay in the Loop
BSR publishes on a weekly schedule, with an email newsletter every Wednesday and Thursday morning. There’s no paywall, and subscribing is always free.
Dan Coren
Can't handle those pieces? They can and they did
DAN COREN
Departing Curtis president Gary Graffman recently marveled that “the technical level of incoming students is obscenely high” compared to what it was several years ago (Inquirer, April 19, 2006). This phenomenon isn't limited to the conservatory level. As a veteran member of the Penn Choral Society, I’ve been struck by the increasing sight-reading proficiency of Penn undergraduates over the past several years. And I’m sure it’s no coincidence that two-thirds of the University of Pennsylvania Orchestra’s Violin I section have Asian names; as the Inquirer article put it, “One Curtis teacher calls the school the Chinese Curtis Institute of Music (though this year there are more Korean students than Chinese).” It seems clear that Asian immigration is enriching American musical life just as European immigration did early in the 20th Century.
On April 23rd, I attended the Penn Orchestra’s spring concert at Irvine Auditorium. The student musicians put on a wonderful program: Beethoven’s Egmont Overture, Copland’s suite from Rodeo, and the Brahms Second Symphony. Like most student concerts on the Penn campus, it was under-publicized and sparsely (but enthusiastically) attended.
If you’re the age of Philadelphia’s typical classical concert audience, you might well be thinking, “Oh, come on! The Penn Orchestra can’t handle those pieces.” I’ve got news for you: They can and they did.
If only I'd come earlier
Penn Orchestra conductor Brad Smith conceived the wonderful idea of having orchestra members play chamber music as a pre-concert bonus. Had I known, I would have arrived an hour early and heard the Mendelssohn D-minor Piano Trio. As it was, I arived in time to hear five young women in the process of knocking off a Hindemith quintet with complete self-assurance and obvious relish. (Pretty ironic, considering I’d just finished writing "I should pay for Hindemith?") They didn’t change my mind about the composer, but their playing was so good that I made doubly sure that these really were student members of the orchestra, not ringers.
Only once in the entire concert– the beginning of the recapitulation in the first movement of the Brahms– did I need to remind myself that this was, after all, a student orchestra. Otherwise, the playing was much more than good enough to let me enjoy the music simply as music, and to criticize it without being patronizing. The Beethoven was a bit raw; the brass badly out of balance. Rodeo was simply terrific. And except for that one moment I mentioned above, the Brahms— one of the glories of the literature— made me very glad I’d driven across town on a Sunday night, even when I could have been watching “The Sopranos.” It’s time for the Inquirer to give critics Dobrin and Stearns some assignments on the Penn campus.
A link in time
An oddity of this program caught my attention. Rodeo was composed between June and September of 1942. I was born that August. This fact made me notice that the Egmont Overture (1809), the Brahms Second (1877) and the Copland, written by composers who were at the height of their powers and well known by their contemporaries, are all separated by roughly the same 65 or so years that separate us from Copland (and me from my birth). Is there a similar composer writing a work today, perhaps at this very moment, that by 2070 will be just as much a part of the standard repertory? Or are we living in one of those dead spots that happen from time to time in music history, similar to the mid-1750s, 65 years before the Egmont overture?
To view a response, click here.
DAN COREN
Departing Curtis president Gary Graffman recently marveled that “the technical level of incoming students is obscenely high” compared to what it was several years ago (Inquirer, April 19, 2006). This phenomenon isn't limited to the conservatory level. As a veteran member of the Penn Choral Society, I’ve been struck by the increasing sight-reading proficiency of Penn undergraduates over the past several years. And I’m sure it’s no coincidence that two-thirds of the University of Pennsylvania Orchestra’s Violin I section have Asian names; as the Inquirer article put it, “One Curtis teacher calls the school the Chinese Curtis Institute of Music (though this year there are more Korean students than Chinese).” It seems clear that Asian immigration is enriching American musical life just as European immigration did early in the 20th Century.
On April 23rd, I attended the Penn Orchestra’s spring concert at Irvine Auditorium. The student musicians put on a wonderful program: Beethoven’s Egmont Overture, Copland’s suite from Rodeo, and the Brahms Second Symphony. Like most student concerts on the Penn campus, it was under-publicized and sparsely (but enthusiastically) attended.
If you’re the age of Philadelphia’s typical classical concert audience, you might well be thinking, “Oh, come on! The Penn Orchestra can’t handle those pieces.” I’ve got news for you: They can and they did.
If only I'd come earlier
Penn Orchestra conductor Brad Smith conceived the wonderful idea of having orchestra members play chamber music as a pre-concert bonus. Had I known, I would have arrived an hour early and heard the Mendelssohn D-minor Piano Trio. As it was, I arived in time to hear five young women in the process of knocking off a Hindemith quintet with complete self-assurance and obvious relish. (Pretty ironic, considering I’d just finished writing "I should pay for Hindemith?") They didn’t change my mind about the composer, but their playing was so good that I made doubly sure that these really were student members of the orchestra, not ringers.
Only once in the entire concert– the beginning of the recapitulation in the first movement of the Brahms– did I need to remind myself that this was, after all, a student orchestra. Otherwise, the playing was much more than good enough to let me enjoy the music simply as music, and to criticize it without being patronizing. The Beethoven was a bit raw; the brass badly out of balance. Rodeo was simply terrific. And except for that one moment I mentioned above, the Brahms— one of the glories of the literature— made me very glad I’d driven across town on a Sunday night, even when I could have been watching “The Sopranos.” It’s time for the Inquirer to give critics Dobrin and Stearns some assignments on the Penn campus.
A link in time
An oddity of this program caught my attention. Rodeo was composed between June and September of 1942. I was born that August. This fact made me notice that the Egmont Overture (1809), the Brahms Second (1877) and the Copland, written by composers who were at the height of their powers and well known by their contemporaries, are all separated by roughly the same 65 or so years that separate us from Copland (and me from my birth). Is there a similar composer writing a work today, perhaps at this very moment, that by 2070 will be just as much a part of the standard repertory? Or are we living in one of those dead spots that happen from time to time in music history, similar to the mid-1750s, 65 years before the Egmont overture?
To view a response, click here.
Sign up for our newsletter
All of the week's new articles, all in one place. Sign up for the free weekly BSR newsletters, and don't miss a conversation.
