concert review: Garden of Memory

Owing to scheduling glitches, I missed last year's edition of the annual walk-through avant-garde concert held at Chapel of the Chimes, Oakland's ornate columbarium and mausoleum. But I got there this year, nabbing a nearby parking space by arriving 2.5 hours early, with my lunch packed in my car.

Unfortunately many of my favorite performers didn't get there this year. So instead of focusing on them, I decided to emphasize the walk-through aspect and prowl around until I found things worth sitting and listening to for a while.

Garden of Memory always begins at 5 pm rather unpopulated, but although the organizers limit attendance, it tends to get more and more crowded over its four-hour length until it becomes deucedly uncomfortable. So I figured I'd start at the part of the building that gets the most crowded later on, the east end of the old wing, and I headed straight for the room designated the Garden of St. Matthew. Instead of being a niche like many of the "garden" rooms, it's along a major pathway. When I've been there before, interesting music was always going on, but I could never stop and listen to it but had to proceed directly towards the exit on the other side of the room, and the reason was that the room was so crowded that, if you stopped, you were blocking the only (and invariably busy) pathway.

So this time I got there early to get a spot where I could stop and listen, and found singer-songwriter Majel Connery on double-tracked vocals and electronic keyboard, accompanied by Felix Fan on electronic cello. I'd actually heard Connery here before, and was impressed with what I heard, but I'd never sealed her down as one of my favorites. I have now. I found this stuff enrapturing; unfortunately nothing of hers online really sounds like what I heard, so I guess you'll have to take my word for it.

Proceeding onward, I wound up in Laura Inserra's old stomping grounds (she's not there this year), the Garden of Eternal Wisdom, where I found violinist Shira Kammen, hammer dulcimer player Robin Petrie, and Celtic harpist Shelley Phillips playing what sounded like Celtic folk music with a Middle Eastern edge to it. I was able to grab the only chair in the room and sat in comfort for quite a while to listen to this charming stuff. Getting lost in the building is part of the experience, the publicity says, and as always in this room I noticed someone starting at the event map trying to figure out which room they were in. (I whispered it to them.) When I left, I found the twisty passage leading to the room was packed with people waiting for an opportunity to enter and listen, so again I had been wise to get there fairly early.

At this point, I found it was time for a set I wanted to hear in the largest venue, the Chimes Chapel, customarily shared by 3 or 4 performers. This was a contemporary classical art song recital, mezzo Silvie Jensen accompanied by pianist Sarah Cahill (founder of this concert series and a regular performer here) in songs by Philip Glass, Meredith Monk, and some other younger composers whose names I didn't know and didn't catch. The Glass and Monk sounded very typical of their composers although I hadn't heard these particular pieces before.

I then hung around for the next set, which was the women's chorus Kitka - which I first encountered here, many years ago - applying their standard nasal vocals to their usual repertoire of obscure Eastern European and Central Asian folk music. As always, a half hour set by Kitka is easier to take than a whole concert. Talking with the people next to me beforehand, I found they'd never heard Kitka before. This is going to be unusual, I warned them.

By this time it was 7:30 and I moved onward to the new wing, which I'd avoided earlier in the day, as it's more spacious and is consequently better saved for later when things are more crowded. Here I passed by a lot of performers of ambient noodling, none of which attracted me enough to make me want to sit down and listen for a while. So eventually I meandered back down to the entrance and left just before the closing time of 9 pm.

MTT memorial, pt 2

The second MTT memorial was the annual Pride Concert of the Bay Area Rainbow Symphony, a group of LGBTQIA+ and allies, held at the SF Conservatory's concert hall. It was pretty well packed.

The highlight of the concert was the local premiere of a song cycle by Jake Heggie, titled "Good Morning, Beauty," to poems by the performance artist Taylor Mac, who refers to the poems as "a present to queers in long-term relationships," and they're about the long-termness of it. It says: "Good morning, beauty / How are you here? / How has it happened? / Year after year?" The art song settings with elaborate orchestration was conducted by music director Robert Mollicone and sung by mezzo Nikola Printz, who went ambigender in an outfit that was a man's black suit on the right and a woman's white dress on the left. And the dedication in the program book read "to the memory of Michael Tilson Thomas and Joshua Robison, whose fifty years together embodied everything the piece celebrates."

Also on the program, a suite reconstruction of the orchestral music for the 1939 Wizard of Oz, a movie with iconic status in this community, composed by Herbert Stothart (who won an Oscar for doing so), based partly on the song melodies by Harold Arlen (who also won an Oscar for that).

And Brahms's Third Symphony. Why Brahms, who as far as we know was straight? Let Mellicone explain: "This felt like a great tie-in for Pride not only due to the broad spectrum of emotions involved, but also because of the musical code embedded in the opening (and recurrent) statement of the work: Frei aber Froh, or 'Free yet Joyful.'" It was a somewhat hairy performance, with things oddly sticking out of Brahms's mellow texture, but nicely and passionately performed.

MTT memorial, pt 1

(pt 1? Yes, pt 2 is coming along in a couple of days)

Regular San Francisco Symphony guest conductor James Gaffigan was scheduled to lead Beethoven's Ninth this week. After former music director Michael Tilson Thomas died two months ago, management decided to repurpose this concert as a memorial to him.

This was appropriate, as the Ninth was a signature work for MTT. He performed it in his inaugural concert as music director in 1995, and I heard him conduct it at least twice - when he recorded it in 2013, and in the last concert by him I ever heard, in 2023.

To the Ninth - which was originally scheduled as the whole concert - management added new material as a first half. It began with brief appreciation/reminiscences by representatives of the orchestra, the chorus, and the symphony board - all women, by the way. I particularly enjoyed the chorus member talking about the time that MTT, with a combination of curiosity and whimsical joy, scheduled a fiendishly difficult choral work by the Italian ultra-modernist Giacinto Scelsi. Thanks to MTT's attitude, both performers and audience had a great time.

Then, three brief works - a lullaby movement from Brahms's German Requiem, done just as a memorial, I guess; Ives' The Unanswered Question, because it was a favorite of MTT's; and a raucously Bernsteinian squib by MTT himself, titled Agnegram.

Gaffigan took the three instrumental movements of the Ninth with broad imperturbability, satisfying without trying to dazzle. The Ode to Joy was bolder and busier in its instrumental presentation. The chorus burned through the score with unspeakable power, towering over everything Beethoven forced them to do. Principal soloist bass Peixin Chen gave an impressively deep sound, with a hollow tone that sounded as if he were singing from within a very large cave. Tenor Thomas Cooley was lighter and fleetier, with a pleasing strong tone quality. The two women don't get enough solo material to judge, but soprano Jessica Faselt and mezzo Kelley O'Connor were both strong and clear in voice, topping each other in turn as they sang together.

that was strange

I was up in the middle of the night, and occupying my time watching a YouTube clip of a John Oliver segment, when all of a sudden the picture froze, though the sound kept sailing on. As this went on for a while, I force-closed the browser, re-started it - the tab was cued to just before the picture stopped - but it only played for a couple of minutes before this happened again. Repeat, rinse, and again.

I got through the entire video eventually, but then the browser - I use Firefox - started freezing whenever I tried doing something else. Rebooting the computer didn't help. I'd start Firefox, it'd work fine for a couple minutes, then it'd freeze - and it wouldn't unfreeze; at one point I left it alone for an hour to see what would happen.

Then it got to the point where it was freezing as soon as I'd start it. Before it got that far, I'd searched for help, and the only clear advice was to uncheck something called hardware acceleration, which I'd already done to solve some other problem. Beyond that was things I couldn't do, and I was thinking about taking the computer in to the software wizards when they opened in the morning, when all of a sudden the problem stopped, and the browser works fine again.

Well, this computer is nearing the end of its lifespan anyway, so sooner or later I'll have to do something, but in the meantime I'm just going to hope this doesn't recur. If I'd been asleep when I should have been, I'd never have noticed anything.

another day

Last week's searing temperatures have calmed down, and we're back to the merely uncomfortably warm. B. runs the fans in the bedroom all night, and this enables us to sleep - in fact, I need to keep a heavy robe on because of the moving air.

All we have to worry about locally right now is the World Cup. My interest in this is best measured with a zero, but I do have to worry that when a game is scheduled at the big local stadium, the traffic closures can extend as far as the passing highways, which I sometimes use. So I've put little "avoid 237" stickers on my pocket calendar for days that games are scheduled, one of which is today. But I don't think I'll have to go that way any time soon.

listen to Elim Chan conduct

In search of online interviews and other such publicity material about Elim Chan, the San Francisco Symphony's new music director, I found a number of full-length concert videos of her conducting various European orchestras in standard classics of the repertoire. They were all good performances - I listened to the bunch of them with full appreciation - but two struck me as particularly outstanding. They captured the fervor and intensity that these pieces had when new and bold, they were led and played with full commitment to the music, and they had me captivated on the edge of my seat throughout - an experience I find rare enough in concert and even rarer in recordings. But this is the amazing conducting that I heard in person when she led Holst's The Planets in a guest appearance at SFS a few years ago.

One of these particularly outstanding renditions was of Brahms's Fourth Symphony, his last and most experimental essay in the form, and my long-time favorite of his. Compelling and urgent.



The other was the monster itself, Beethoven's Fifth, the work that originally sold me on the heavy classics. If bad performances have led you to find this work dull and routine, just listen to this fiery attack.



The other full-length recordings I listened to of Elim Chan conducting included:

Tchaikovsky's Fifth

Rimsky-Korsakov's Scheherazade

Shostakovich's Fifth

Shostakovich's Tenth

Beethoven's First

critical mutterings

Dave Hurwitz, executive editor of ClassicsToday.com, has over the last several years been publishing literally hundreds of videos on YouTube featuring him talking about various aspects of classical music: reviews, lists of the greatest (or worst) this and that, opinion pieces, and on. He mostly eschews music clips for copyright reasons, and I wish he had transcripts, because it's tiring to listen to him yammer for half an hour where you could read it in five minutes.

Anyway, one of his latest opinion pieces was billed as a praise of the San Francisco Symphony for hiring Elim Chan as its new music director. I say "billed as" because much of it was actually a complaint, and as often when listening to Dave (I call him by his first name because he's so personalized and intimate in his presentations) I begin to think he's yammering more than he can coherently and judiciously talk about.

Let's start with what Dave gets right. First, he's absolutely correct that picking a fairly young and well-regarded conductor like Chan was a wise choice. After Michael Tilson Thomas retired, another senior conductor like Esa-Pekka Salonen was a good idea, because Salonen had the authority and seasoning not to be overshadowed by the long and fabulous reign of his predecessor. But after a fairly short Salonen regime - and we weren't expecting a long one, just perhaps not as short as we actually got - now's the time to raise someone younger, experienced but not encrusted, up from the next tier and see what she can do.

Second, Dave is concerned that ten weeks a year will not be enough time for Chan to really put her stamp on the orchestra. A great music director has to really commit to their post; they can zoom off and guest conduct elsewhere, sure, but they can't be a jet-setter just dropping in for a couple weeks once in a while.

But what Dave didn't note is that Chan's contract says ten weeks only for the first year. Maybe she already has a lot of other commitments for that year. Starting with her second year she'll be here longer; maybe not long enough to meet Dave's standards for commitment, but it's a step in the right direction. Also, even the ten weeks is a contractual minimum; it's possible she could manage more.

My other complaint is his characterization of Esa-Pekka Salonen flouncing off in a huff because he didn't like the orchestra's policies. That's unfair. You have to remember that Salonen didn't need another music director job when he came to SFS; he didn't even want another one; but SFS sold him on it by offering him an irresistible opportunity to do things he really wanted to do. And then, because of budget concerns which really didn't make any sense, they took those things away. And I'm not talking, as Dave is, about the superfluous European tour that got cancelled; I'm talking about special programs like the SoundBox and the Collaborative Partners initiative.

And Salonen didn't flounce off; he didn't renege on his contract. He simply said that this was not what he signed up for and declined to renew his contract when it expired. I think he had every right to do that, no call to be criticized for it, and it was the right thing for him to do considering the circumstances. It was the circumstances - the orchestra's unnecessary retrenchment - which was at fault.

That's where I think Dave Hurwitz is off-base, and Joshua Kosman - former critic for the San Francisco Chronicle, whose judgments heavily informed mine - has a better take on it.

a miscellaneous Jane Yolen memory

Jane Yolen has passed on. She certainly accomplished a lot while she was among us: author of literally hundreds of books. Many of them very short children's books, but some were longer. I have about 35 of them. I probably cherish most some of the short story collections, but my strongest memories are of some of the full-length novels: Briar Rose, Cards of Grief, The Devil's Arithmetic. I am also particularly glad to have an essay collection on fantasy, titled Touch Magic.

What really sticks with me about Jane Yolen, though, is that for some years we were pretty good friends. As in, if we'd see each other at a convention we'd sit down for a long chat. I think this began as a result of her first (of two) appearances as Mythcon Guest of Honor, in 1984. I was editing Mythprint in those days, and I wanted some celebratory material on the GoH, and I recall writing her with some bibliographical questions - she was prolific even then. We had some mutual friends in the apa Apanage to which she belonged, so that was a seed for acquaintance. That must be how it started.

During that period - it must have been about 15 or more years before we fell out of touch - I visited her at her home in western Massachusetts twice I think. But what I remember most is a visit somewhere else. In the summer of 1992, I spent a week in Edinburgh in Scotland. At that time, Jane and her husband David were renting a house in St. Andrews, not far to the north, so I drove up one day to see them. The rented house was an impressive semi-Gothic structure, but my particular memory comes from Jane driving me over to a modern suburban neighborhood, to the home of friends of theirs. These friends had decided to hold an American-style backyard barbecue, complete with hamburgers fired on a grill; and I was Jane's guest. Soon after I arrived, it started to rain pretty heavily, so we all grabbed the fixings and retreated inside. But this was Scotland, where a rainy day at any time of year is normal, and despite my limited experience there I knew that. What puzzled me was that any of the natives should have been surprised at the rain.

busy day

Wow, did I have a busy day on Monday. First I had a doctor's appointment at noon to discuss the results of my test from last week. I had to take a roundabout route to get there, because there was some event going on at the Apple spaceship, which is along the regular route.

That gave me half an hour to get home before the regular starting time of my Zoom play-reading session. I made it, ten minutes to spare. This week we were finishing up Dion Boucicault's London Assurance, our latest successful venture into obscure 19th century comedy. This one features a man who convinces his father that he is not himself but a random lookalike. Then he keeps forgetting that there are things he therefore shouldn't know.

When we finished that, I had enough time to grab a hasty lunch before heading over to the other side of the urban area for another visit to the specialized dentist who is taking care of the hole where my extracted tooth used to be. Done there - uncomfortable but not painful, as my previous visits have been - I stopped by the nearby excellent tamale makers for dinner makings before heading home.

After dinner, another Zoom session. The Lamplighters, the local Gilbert & Sullivan society, were presenting an hour's introduction to Iolanthe, their next production, focused on Sullivan's music. I know Iolanthe pretty well, but I thought I might learn something, and I did pick up a little. (The oboe solo at Iolanthe's introduction is the only extended instrumental solo in the entire G&S canon.)

After that I fell asleep early, and no wonder.

venue review

Review of a new pop-music concert venue in my area, the Siesta Valley Bowl. Only it's not new, it's the amphitheater that used to host the now-defunct California Shakespeare Festival.

You know, I stopped going there long before Cal Shakes died, and the reason was the acoustics. The bowl was not focused, and the unamplified actors had to shout to be heard. That's assuming that a plane landing at or taking off from the nearby Oakland Airport wasn't passing overhead, which they did frequently, because that would rip a few pages out of the script entirely, making the actors inaudible no matter what they did.

So, all in all, this is a better venue for amplified pop music than it was for unamplified theater, assuming it doesn't bother the neighbors. Though I will say that I was curious enough to go and listen to what the review said was probably "the finest song in [the performer's] entire catalog," and all I can say is that if that is his finest song, I'm really glad I don't have to hear any of the others.