My name is Amanda Ameer, and I don’t really like jazz.
I’m OK
admitting this for two reasons: 1.The three people whose opinions on
music matter to me most feel the same way, and 2. It gives me
perspective on why, despite all the good marketing and publicity in the
world, some folks may just never like classical music. Wait, three
reasons: we learned on Thursday night that Stephen Colbert doesn’t like it either (at ~12 minutes). “GOD that’s unbearable!” he explodes, “Ergo, it must be good!”
This,
of course, does not mean there’s not lots to learn from our friends across the genre
pond. Along with fellow ArtsJournal blogger Richard Kessler and Kevin Stalheim from Present Music in Milwaukee, I’ve been involved with Chamber Music America’s New Music Institutes:
shockingly rare opportunities to hash out the challenges of
performing/presenting/publicizing new chamber music in America in person. Last week, we road-tripped it up to SUNY Potsdam (leaf-peeping!!),
and this weekend, we’re at the University of Buffalo.
At Potsdam, the Cassatt Quartet performed alongside Stefon Harris and Blackout, who Richard writes about here. “Alongside” meaning “just before and in the same space“, not together or at the same time.
At one point, Stefon – self-described “emotion-engineer” – talked about going to clubs before his sets to get a sense of the audience. He went
on to say that his band laughs at him whenever he writes out a set
list; it’s never going to happen, because Stefon programs (” “) his
concerts based on the energy of his audience.
Do classical musicians have to opportunity to change concerts based on 1. their mood 2. the mood of the audience 3. the mood of the orchestra 4. the mood of the venue? Not…really? Cadenzas and encores are the only opportunities I can think of. There was a great Cincinnati Post story about Hahn Solo from October 10, 2006 – it’s not online anymore (??), but lucky for you, I have her press kit on hand:
The Grammy-winning violinist, 26, who performs Benjamin Britten’s Violin Concerto Friday and Saturday with the CSO under guest conductor Andrey Boreyko, was getting ready for a performance of Beethoven’s Violin Concerto with the DK in Yokohama.
“I was warming up backstage with this tune called ‘Down in the Swamp.’ It’s by Bela Fleck. He heard me, and he’s like, ‘You should do that onstage while you’re tuning.’
“I said, ‘I’m not going to go onstage and play that’ and he said, ‘You’re chicken.'”
Hahn, who doesn’t shrink from challenges, even when couched as a casual remark, decided to accept Jarvi’s dare. “I thought, ‘How can I work this in?'”
Like many soloists who do it to insert their own compositional touches, she put it in the cadenza, the portion of a concerto where the orchestra stops and the soloist continues in improvisatory-style.
“I didn’t tell anyone I was doing it. When I got into it, I could tell that he recognized it. The audience thought it was a traditional Japanese tune. The orchestra couldn’t figure out where I came up with it. He (Järvi) loved it. The next night I came up with another one. It was fun because it was like a thematic improvisational exercise.”
Classical music concerts are so rigid that not only is there a predetermined set list, but that set list has been printed in season brochures and posted online for the preceding nine months in addition to being right in front of the audience throughout the performance! Classical audiences – myself included, embarrassingly enough – get annoyed when the order of a concert changes, not to mention the pieces themselves. We all want to know what we’re about to see, but then, if you think about it, does it even matter that we’re there? [I could write something hilarious here about how “sometimes, there isn’t actually anyone there!”, but I won’t.]
Would you go see The King’s Singers if you didn’t know what they were going to perform? What about The Emerson String Quartet, or Hilary in recital? Would you click “Buy Tickets” if a concert was billed as, “An Evening with The King’s Singers”, x date, no program? Presumably, they would have their first piece picked out – or would hang out in the lobby before a concert and decide after that – and then the concert would just unfold naturally from there. The King’s Singers – along with every chamber music group and soloist you can think of – have enough repertoire in their stable to pull this off without too much extra preparation, and wouldn’t it be exciting? The audience would have a sense that they were involved in the concert beyond buying a ticket and sitting quietly; their vibe would determine the program.
Stefon’s drummer Alvester Garnett said something in passing at the session today that he may not have meant to: “When we’re playing with an audience…”
Playing with an audience, not playing for an audience. Intentional or Freudian, what a lovely way to think about performing.
Orchestras working with jazz musicians as guests often find it a real challenge to pin down programs (which they need to do in order to hire/arrange music, book musicians and plan rehearsals), precisely because there’s a completely different culture of programming and planning in these two realms. It’s not hard to understand why when you look at all the logistical realities of pulling together an orchestral concert – but understanding doesn’t make it any easier!
Although there once was a time when audiences would buy orchestral subscriptions knowing only dates and artists, I can’t imagine it happening today, but then has anyone been game enough to try recently?
The closest you get are those pops concerts where what’s promoted is a theme or a couple of “hook” pieces. (Even then, it’s all been decided by the time you pick up your program book at the concert.)
Same goes for a lot of period-instrument groups. In some cases they’re not promoting an actual program because the artistic decision-making hasn’t been finalised at the time of promotion (ahem!); sometimes it’s because the full program is too long and unfamiliar and generally off-putting to be a marketing asset (some Harp Consort or Hespèrion XXI programs would fall in that category). But still, as evidenced by printed programs, the “set” on the night is predetermined and usually nothing other than encores/ornamentation/cadenzas is left to chance.
You’re right in saying that a small ensemble has genuine scope for varying the program on the night. With a large ensemble like an orchestra the practical constraints are greater. Not to mention that we’ve trained audiences to come expecting to hear a crafted program.
Does it even matter that we’re there if it’s all planned? Absolutely it does. Our physical presence and response may not influence the choice of program that evening, but that doesn’t mean that the artists don’t respond to the audience vibe or that listeners don’t contribute in subtle ways.
Thanks for this piece! I’ve always been interested in how audience members, including myself, engage with the artists during a performance and I’ve always found that the intimacy and the informal nature of jazz clubs are very conducive to a high level of interaction and the creativity of the artists is easily apparent. In the best performances, I do feel like I’m part of the creative process of the experience, that there is a real dialogue between artist and audience, and that’s a major reason why I go see live jazz.
But I find myself in a different state of mind when I attend classical concerts. It’s an entirely different set of expectations. Like Yvonne alluded to earlier, we’ve been trained to expect a crafted program–and artists and programmers have also been trained to craft programs. As much as we like to think that we make connections across the lip of the stage, this seldom really happens at classical concerts. It is, more often than not, more of a presentation than an interaction. While some people love the current system, I’d prefer more interaction. I’m the type of person who goes to pre-concert lectures to try to understand programming choices and I get excited when a conductor steps off the podium with a microphone to say a few words. While it isn’t a change of repertoire per se, recontextualizing the repertoire can easily change the mood of the artist, audience, venue, etc.–those sorts of interventions can easily change the experience for everyone involved and engaged on another level.
While I think there is a part of the classical music audience that attends because of specific repertoire, I also think a large part of the audience that we do capture and the audience that we want to capture does not have that sort of in-depth knowledge? (And would they even want it?!) It’s easy to list names and pieces on ads and that means something to some people, but very difficult to concisely describe why you, the potential audience member, should attend. It’s definitely easier said than done, but I think that if we want to draw more people to classical concerts, we need to find ways of communicating not just what is being presented (and assuming that people know what “Beethoven Symphony No. 3” menas), but why it is being presented. Why is it worth your time and money?
With a group like King Singers, Emerson String Quartet, or Chanticleer (I just mention because I have seen them adjust their repertoire mid-concert) they have their reputations of quality music-making to rely upon and the fact that they are primarily touring so their audiences change from city to city so I think it’s easier to be flexible with repertoire if they so choose because people will sepnd time and money for them. But with a lesser known group who may be known for some particular area of expertise, or with a large orchestra who has to sell and differentiate 20+ weekends of concerts to basically the same stagnant audience, that’s a tough job which calls for a high degree of alignment between the programmers, artists, educators, PR managers and marketers–yet another thing easier said than done!!
[Also, just to toss an example out there involving communication through new and accessible technology, in their summer parks concerts, the NY Philharmonic had people text message their choice for an encore before and during the concert. You can say what you like about the American Idolness of it, but I know I would’ve been more excited about the encore when it was performed!]