River City Writer

On Thursday, April 16, I was invited—along with several other local bloggers and twitterers—to attend a performance by the Edmonton Symphony Orchestra. In addition to live tweeting the event (check the #eso hashtag for those tweets) and being interviewed about the role that social media plays in promoting the arts (those videos should be up on the ESO blog in the near future), we were asked if we would blog about the concert.

I’m not a music critic, so I’m not going to give you a review of the concert, other than to say that it was excellent (I don’t think I’ve ever seen an ESO concert that I didn’t enjoy) and that you need to hear the giant pipe organ at the Winspear if you ever get the chance. That thing is amazingly powerful and the sound is great—it almost drowns out the rest of the orchestra!

Instead, I’m going to take a suggestion offered by ESO new media guy, Philip Paschke, and write about the importance of sharing cultural events—and the symphony in particular—with a friend.

Why take a friend to the ESO? Well, aside from the fact that I got a pair of free tickets, cultural events are always better if you have someone to share the experience with. Movies aren’t even half as good if you’ve got no one to talk discuss them with afterward. The same goes for the symphony.

Unlike a lot of popular music, orchestral music tends to fall into the realm of “high art.” Now, I don’t like to draw a distinction between the highbrow and the lowbrow—especially since so much of art manages to successfully combine the two—but let’s be honest here. As much as I love a good rap song, if you strip away the lyrics the music is pretty boring most of the time. Rarely is the music particularly thought provoking sans lyrics.

With classical and orchestral music, however, the music stands alone. Rarely is there a vocal component to voice the story that the composer is trying to tell. The music must do this on it’s own. Because of this, it can sometimes be hard to decide what sort of story is being told. Is this song about love and heartbreak, or is it about the horrors of war? Is this song a tribute to the composer’s god, or is it meant to conjure up images of the glory of nature?

With the variety of possiblities out there, having someone to discuss the concert with is all the more important. Not only can you talk about how good the music sounded, or how entertaining the conductor’s jokes were (I’m looking at you, Mr. Eddins). You can also discuss what the music was trying to say. Interpreting music—or any art, for that matter—is much more interesting when you have a companion to bounce ideas off of (or to debate ideas with, depending on what your idea of fun is).

The same is true of any sort of art. Whether you’re going to a horror movie or a performance by the Edmonton Symphony Orchestra (which I highly recommend), bring a friend. You’ll get much more out of the show because of it.

The 2nd portion of the concert starts off with an arrangement of several swing classics, arranged by Jeff Tyzik. Big Band music seems perfectly placed in the park today, for some reason. I sometimes feel that swing shouldn’t be played in a concert hall, as it’s dance music, and if people can’t dance it’s out of place. But, here in the park, it seems like the perfect kind of music for a semi-casual concert.

Oh, did I say people can’t dance? I take it back, children were dancing throughout the audience. Oh, to be young and uninhibited again…

Next up: a piece composed by Roydon Tse, who is taking part in the Young Composers Project. This is the debut performance of the piece, “Remembrances.” While it was a bit too nostalgic for my personal tastes it was, nonetheless, a very well put together composition, and had I not been told that Tse was to start 12th Grade tomorrow, I would never have realized that it was composed by someone so young.

Following Tse’s piece, PJ Perry returns to the stage, sans jacket and cap, for a meldy of Charlie Parker tunes. And, once again, I’ve got to take a few minutes and just listen.

Shall we start with PJ Perry’s brown suit again? His wife hates it, he loves it, the audience has…mixed feelings. Personally, I loved it…on him. But I would never wear it myself.

Now, though, it’s time for the “Hockey Night in Canada Theme.” Hearing HNIC with a full orchestra is pretty awesome. Obviously, it’s recognizable—it’s probably the most recognizable song in Canada—but it still sounds different and more powerful when arranged for a full orchestra. Regardless, all I need now is for a puck to drop and a game to start.

And now conducting his entry into the CBC HNIC “new theme” contest, we have Jon (John?) Estazio (I couldn’t quite hear his name, and I’ve almost certainly spelt it incorrectly, so I apologize in advance) wearing an Oilers jersey to conduct his entry: “The Power Play Fanfare.” It was a great piece, which drew a standing ovation from most of the audience (ah…the power of hockey in Canada). I liked it. i actually really liked it. Even though I haven’t heard many of the other entries, I could really see this as the new HNIC theme song.

It’s got everything you need to make a great sports theme song: a build-up of energy, something that can pump up the crowd, and a big finish that demands the audience begin to cheer (either for the song, or for their hockey team).

And, with that, we come to the end of the first half of this afternoon’s performance.

It’s a cool day, but sunny, for the final day of the ESO’s Symphony Under the Sky at the Heritage Ampitheatre in William Harwelak Park. In a few moments, things will be getting under way with the national anthem and “God Save the Queen.”

The program has, for various reasons, been thrown out the window for this afternoon’s performance, which means we’re in for a random but entertaining show.

Things started off Checkovsky March (???)…a number which, apparently, requires audience participation. Clap along!

The next piece is “Belle of the Ball,” a piece by Leroy Anderson. Thouhg I didn’t recognize the name of the piece, I do recognize the music, which is often the case with symphony music and I. I enjoy the music, and Ienjoy learning more about it, but if you were to ask me to name a tune, I’d be at a loss for anything other than the most commonly recognized songs: Beethovin’s 9th, the “1812 Overture,” etc.

“Phantom Regiment” is the next piece, also by Leroy Anderson. This is apparently a relatively obscure piece, which makes me less embarassed to not recognize it. It was a quite charming piece, which the audience seemed to enjoy. Of course, I am continuely impressed by our ESO, and never fail to be both entertained and enlightened by them…as difficult as it made be with ignorant people talking throught the enitre show behind me.

A little medly being called “Saint Bailey’s Rag” goes by, and we’re into the first song with tonight’s guest artist PJ Perry on the sax. I believe that this will be a medly of ’20s jazz numbers…

Watching Perry rock out in his brown suit and baseball cap is an enjoyable experience. Seeing him lean into the music and give it all that he has to give it is beyond enjoyable, it’s…well, frankly, it makes me want to put down the computer for a few minutes to just sit and take it all in. And so I shall.

Friends, Edmontonians, Countrymen…

I have been neglegent and left this blog to rot far longer than I should have. Likely, I have lost many readers and/or subscribers. Luckily, I never got around to setting up Google Analytics for this blog, so I am unaware of the stats.

Regardless, I am back, and I’m telling you about the Edmonton International Jazz Festival. Last night, June 20, was the first night of this year’s festival and I, the River City Writer, was present at one of the shows.

I checked out the Four Corners Quartet, who were part of the Club Series, at hulbert’s. They played a mix of originals and standards, with an emphasis on the standards. Though not a huge jazz cat, I recognized a good number of the standards.

There was a lot of Charlie Parker, and some Miles Davis, which is to be expected when the leader of the band is a sax player. Oddly, I think there were a few Thelonious Monk songs in the mix, which is odd, given that there was not a piano in sight. Of course, like I said, I’m not a jazz expert, so I could be wrong about the Monk bits.

I didn’t get a chance to speak to them, but I believe the Four Corners Quartet is from Edmonton, so if you see them around town, I recommend that you check them out. In the meantime, be sure to check out the rest of the Festival.

The Edmonton International Jazz Festival runs until June 29, 2008. For a full schedule of events check out the 2008 Jazz Festival Calendar.

After being on hiatus since December, the Raving Poets are back with their 2008 Spring Season, titled Heart Beat.

For those who may not know about the Raving Poets, here’s a run down of what goes on at these things:

• People drink a lot of alcohol.
• People read poems—some are good, some are not-so-good, almost all are interesting in one way or another.
• The band rocks out (jazzes out?).

There is, of course, a bit more order and structure than I’m letting on, but the point is that the Raving Poets Experience is unlike anything else. It’s part spoken word, part live improvisational music, and part bacchanalian release.

If you’ve never experienced the Raving Poets, I highly recommend you come and check it out. It runs every Wednesday at 8:00pm for the next 13 weeks down at Kasbar Lounge (10444 Whyte Avenue, downstairs from Yianni’s). If you want to get on the reader list, you’ll have to arrive early: sign-up is at 7:30pm and closes promptly at 8pm.

For more information about Heart Beat, check out the Raving Poets website.

And now, for the final piece(s) of the night, Duke Ellington’s arrangement of a suite from Tchaikovsky’s The Nutcracker.

Jazz…and The Nutcracker. I’ve never heard this arrangement before, but I’ve got to say I’m loving it. It’s a great twist on pieces that, while great in their own right, can sometimes feel tiresome after hearing them every year when the holidays roll ’round.

It’s funny, like most people, I have some familiarity with The Nutcracker (though, I admit, I’m not a huge fan, so I’m hardly an expert), but I’m having some trouble recognizing the different songs. I mean, I know they’re from The Nutcracker, and I know that I recognize them, but…well…I don’t recognize them.

I realize, of course, just how little sense that phrase makes, but hopefully you’re able to decode my cryptic ramblings and get some sense of what I’m trying to say.

Obviously, I’m not allowed to record this evening’s performance, but I’m sure you can find a version of the Ellington arrangement of The Nutcracker online somewhere. I highly recommend it.

Ah…here’s one I recognize. “Dance of the Sugarplum Fairies,” or, as Ellington’s version is called, “Dance of the Sugar Rum Cherry.” If you’d have told me before tonight that I would ever be using the word “sexy” to describe “Dance of the Sugarplum Fairies,” I’d have called you a liar, but there is some definite sexiness coming from the horn section right now.

And now: “March” (known tonight as “Peanut Brittle Brigade”. Another instantly recognizable yet totally unexpected version of a song that almost everyone in the Western world knows. I can’t say that I disapprove of this version.

Really, this entire Ellington suite has been very cool. It’s very different from the traditional versions, of course, but that’s the beauty of it. I really do recommend looking for a version of it online, or picking up a record if you can find one. You’ll thank me later.

And, that, ladies and gentlemen, is #5.

Note: I’ll probably go through and edit these posts sometime tomorrow, and toss up some afterthoughts, so make sure to check out River City Writer again tomorrow.

And, we’re back… with “Dreaming of the Masters II- Rhapsody GEB,” which was written by Allan Gilliland especially for Eddins, who is conducting and playing the piano. Impressive. And on top of that, he appears to be playing without reading any music. Extra impressive.

Unfortunately, we’re having a moment of technical difficulties—the sound system in the room isn’t working—so I can’t tell just how impressive it truly is. This room is quiet soundproof. We’re able to hear some of the louder parts…and, there we go. We’ve got sound again.

Seriously…conducting and playing the piano? I’ve never seen that before. I don’t want to call it gimmicky, because it’s really not, and he’s doing a good job of it, but it’s so usual that I really don’t know what else to say about this piece.

Let’s start with this: it’s beautiful. I love jazz piano, and this is jazz with an orchestra. It’s got all the playfulness of jazz, with the power of the symphony. Very cool. I’m not even sure what to call this. It’s not jazz, but it’s definitely got elements of jazz to it.

Whatever it is, it’s an enchanting piece of music. It reminds me of the ocean…East Coast ocean, with large waves crashing against cliffs on a grey day. Except, it’s happening in slow motion. And in silence. And in black and white. The music is the soundtrack to a silent movie whose core emotion I can’t quite pin down.

In the midst of this, there is a moment of high energy. We’re in a dance hall or a ballroom somewhere. We’re in the same film, but now there is colour. Are we in the same location? Is this dance hall in a town on Canada’s east coast, or somewhere in New England?

We’re taken back outside for a brief moment before something dark and sinister creeps in. Violence? No. There’s a playful note underneath this seemingly dark section. It’s audible in the music, and visible in the way that Eddins is moving and interacting with the musicians he’s leading.

Still, something here is not quite kosher. There is a tension. Is it a fight? Is it tension between lovers? Whatever it is, we’ve hit the big jazz number. This could be a playful dance between two strong characters, or it could be the lead-up to a fight between two rivals.

And…wow…let’s call that #4 with a bang! If I wasn’t in this room, I might even been standing with the few people who are giving a standing ovation.

I’m fascinated by the percussion section in orchestras, particularly the guys who seem to only perform a few notes all night. There is strange sort of nobility about getting dressed-up in a tux, only to sit still at the back of orchestra for most of the night, waiting for your 30 seconds of drum-pounding glory.

This especially true when one considers that, if they’re doing their job right, you likely won’t even notice those 30 seconds. Or, rather, they won’t stand out as anything other than a seamless part of the whole performance. And, yet, without them, something would be noticeably amiss.

Ladies and gentlemen, Bill Eddins has left the stage. And he has returned with a microphone. With rock star panache, he does the whole, “How are you doing out there?” Weak applause are followed by what is essentially an, “I can’t hear you!” Louder applause…

Eddin’s between-song banter proves again the man’s sense of humour, and ability to make classical music accessible to everyone. (Note to the purists: Yes, I’m using “classical” as a broad-sweeping term to cover a wide array of “art music,” which is not necessarily classical music in the technical sense of the term. Deal with it.)

And now…a piece from what may be the quintessential American opera—Porgy and Bess.

I admit, I have absolutely no knowledge of this song. Hell, I has essentially no knowledge of opera. I respect it as an art form, but I often find that those who perform it almost have too much respect for the music. Rarely do they take risks with it. Rarely do they approach old operas from new angles.

There’s something to be said for purity in art, and I would never suggest that we abandon the traditional versions of our great works of art—opera, theatre, film, whatever—but as society changes and moves forward through history, it would be nice to see how our current sensibilities affect our approach to older forms of “high art” such as the opera.

Of course, having about as much knowledge of opera as the chair I’m sitting on, I has no way of knowing whether Eddins and the ESO are taking any risks with this performance. (I realize that this makes my whole tangent about taking risks with opera a bit ignorant, but I stand by it nonetheless.)

Suddenly, we hit a sequence that rings familiar in my ears. I have heard this song before…or at least something inspired by it (or which inspired it?). I can’t place it, but I’ve got Google and Wikipedia for after the show. I’ll inform myself as best I can and, if I figure it out, I’ll report back.

And with the end of that piece, we’ll call this “Dispatch #2.”

Afterthought: I’m hearing the word “musical” tossed about in blogger’s room. Is it a musical or an opera? Proof of my ignorance, I suppose.