Dick and I discuss Higdon’s “Skyline”, Beethoven’s Violin Concerto and Rachmaninoff’s Symphonic Dances.


Podcast

A discussion with Dick Strawser about the first Masterworks concert: Semiramide Overture, Piazzolla’s Four Seasons in Buenos Aires, and Dvorak’s New World Symphony.


Podcast

A discussion with Dick about the exciting 2009-2010 Masterworks season.


Podcast

Something new! An informal discussion of the upcoming performances of Puccini’s masterpiece with none other than my friend and fellow blogger Dick Strawser.


Podcast

I just finished a three-day Artist-in-Residence stint at Highland Elementary School. My activities ranged from an assembly performance/presentation for the whole school to small workshop classes with each grade level to sessions each day with the chorus, orchestra and band. The culmination of the residency was a performance by each of the groups for the entire student body.

I think it was a big success. I had a great time. The kids were really fun to work with, and we had very good sessions. The final concert went well, and there was certainly great improvement day to day in the ensembles.

A few reflections on the week:

1) Teaching elementary school aged children is exhausting work. One simply cannot let up on energy for a moment, or you lose the kids. Keeping children interested is not just about teaching but also about engaging. I got home at the end of each school day absolutely pooped. This is not because the children were in any way badly behaved. Actually, they were remarkably well-behaved . It’s just hard work.

2) Teaching elementary school aged children is equally thrilling and rewarding. The kids were so willing to listen and try new things. They worked hard with me, and showered me with affection, both spoken and unspoken. At the end of the concert, many came up and hugged me, presented me with gifts, and thanked me for being there. Talk about feeling warm and fuzzy...

3) Teachers are the unsung heroes of our society. The dedication, skill, and plain hard work of the teachers I was exposed to was awe-inspiring. The music teachers, in particular, need such a high degree of patience, caring, and ability to teach this many children music on an elementary level. I am ready to collapse after just three days. These teachers do it every day, year in and year out. As a parent of young children, it is a perspective changing experience. I spent a good deal of the time there reflecting on my wonderful teachers growing up and how much I owe them. I point you to an earlier blog.

4) Music needs to be in our schools, and more of it. The teachers related many stories of troubled students who found self-esteem and discipline through music. Music programs enhance the rest of school work. I will not dwell on this, as there are many studies that show the power of arts programs to improve scholastic performance, but I wish more people understood what seems such a no-brainer to me.

I went in to this not knowing what to expect, and somewhat anxious about it. I’m very glad I did it. I could not do this all the time, but I enjoyed the week.

And I will miss the kids.

I’m up in the middle of the night again. What better time to blog?

One of my dear college friends recently sent me an email, with the suggestion that I insert the phrase, “If I may say so myself” throughout my website. For example, “Maestro Stuart Malina is one of America’s most versatile and accomplished conductors.... if I may say so myself”, or “I thought the concerts were paced well, my banter was generally funny and interesting, the music was by and large well-selected, and the audiences seemed to have a rollicking time... if I may say so myself.” I think you get the idea.

His point is well taken, and I will gladly admit that this website is, in some not insubstantial part, self-promotion. Having said that, I do genuinely feel we are doing great things here at the Harrisburg Symphony Orchestra, and although much of the credit goes to the players, staff and volunteers, it would be false modesty to suggest that I had little to do with it.

Which brings me to this update. It’s been four months since my last blog entry. (I feel like I’ve entered a confessional!) In that period, the HSO has performed three Masterworks weekends and one pops weekend. Each has presented substantial challenges, and in each case the orchestra has performed spectacularly well. In fact, I would say that the already high level of the orchestra has ratcheted up a notch to something quite remarkable. And yes, I think I’ve done a great job too. (If I may say so myself.)

November’s masterworks concert featured our principal oboist, Alicia Chapman, playing Martinu’s charming oboe concerto. I’ve very much enjoyed presenting our players as soloists, as it shows our audience the incredible level of musicianship we have in the orchestra. Alicia sounded great. The concerto is an endurance test for the oboe, and like an athlete who has trained for the big event, Alicia came to town in great shape. Fun.

The second piece was the tricky one - Schoenberg’s Verklärte Nacht. This pre-twelve-tone, ultra-Romantic tone poem for strings, is, simply put, a bear to play. It’s just plain hard. I had never learned the piece before, and it certainly presents some conducting challenges. But those challenges would be meaningless unless the orchestra was up to playing the piece. I always come in to the first rehearsal for pieces like this worried that the players will not have done their preparatory work. This is terribly unfair of me, as the HSO always exceeds my highest expectations. In this case, the strings played lushly and passionately, producing a performance that many a higher-paid orchestra would be thrilled with.

The second half of the program was Beethoven’s 7th Symphony. This is my favorite of Beethoven’s symphonies, and that is saying a lot, as they are all amazing pieces. But there is an underlying vitality and spirit to the seventh that makes one glad to be alive and human. The piece requires of the orchestra great stamina and great ensemble. Coming off the less-familiar Schoenberg, the Beethoven felt very comfortable, and the orchestra allowed me to work it hard, particularly in the final movement, which had an intense drive to the finish. We all left the concert in high spirits.

The next concert was an even greater mountain to climb - Mahler’s Ninth Symphony. I have no difficulty proclaiming that this was the hardest piece I’ve ever studied, and as good as I thought my performance was (if I may say so myself), I also felt sure that there were layers of this piece that I hadn’t begun to discover. Every page presented challenges to both learning the music and conducting the music - pages upon pages of dense writing, and music with such intense profundity. It is a remarkable masterpiece. Mahler’s farewell to the world.

For the HSO, this was a watershed event. I think that this concert changed how the orchestra regards itself. Don’t get me wrong. Everyone who plays here knows that the group is very good, and that the experience of playing here is a most enjoyable one, but after this concert there seemed to be the sense that nothing was beyond our reach - indeed, there is nothing that we can’t play really well.

Everyone played at the highest level, and the performances were wonderful. My friend Dick Strawser sat in on all of the rehearsals, and noted that the orchestra in its first run-throughs sounded better in some cases than several of his recordings of the piece (high praise from a man whose opinion I very much respect. You can see his blogs about Mahler’s Ninth here). Audience members still thank me for this concert. And I am still feeling justifiably proud of myself.

A few weeks later we had a different sort of challenge. For our pops series, we did a concert version of Gilbert and Sullivan’s Iolanthe. The challenge here was putting together a rather complicated evening, with many different components, in a remarkable short amount of time. I’ve done several G&S shows over the years (I’ve been a fan my whole life - my parents were in a troupe when I was younger, and I was on the board of the Harvard G&S Society in college), and I have my group of regular performers, who are terrific (including my brother, Joel and my TV star cousin, Josh). This time there were several singers with whom I had never done G&S. The chorus was the ever-wonderful Susquehanna Chorale. To make a long story short, everyone was terrific. My approach to these concerts, and to the pops series in general, is that if we are having a genuinely good time on stage, then the audience cannot help but have a good time as well. The cast, the chorus, the orchestra, and the conductor had a blast.

There was some discussion afterwards about sound. We mike these performances in order that all the words are heard (the lyrics are at least equally as important as the music in G&S). Some audience members related how delighted they were with the sound, and how every word was crystal clear. Others complained that it was way too loud. I wonder if this is a function of the acoustic in the hall (it varies widely area to area, and sometimes seat to seat), or personal taste. Either way, it is of great concern to me, and worth constant revisiting.

The last concert I’ll write about today was last weekend’s masterworks performance. It included two centerpiece of the romantic orchestral repertoire - Smetana’ The Moldau and Rachmaninoff’s 3rd Piano Concerto (beautifully performed by Andrew von Oeyen) - and a piece I imagine noone in the audience had heard or heard of before - Erwin Schulhoff’s 5th Symphony.

Schulhoff was a Czech-Jewish composer during a time it was dangerous to be either Czech or Jewish. The Fifth Symphony was written in 1938, when the Nazis were about to invade Czechoslovakia. It is a work of unrelenting violence and intensity, ranging from the battle music of the first movement, through cries of anguish in the second movement, turbulence and drive in the third, and finally a struggle for humanity and goodness in the final movement. For the audience, it is entry into a profoundly disturbing world. For the orchestra, it is unceasing, relentless intensity.

I was a bit worried having programmed this work. How would the audience respond? Would the orchestra get on board with this exhausting and difficult piece of music?

The answer to the second question is easier. The orchestra, as always, played with remarkable commitment and skill, producing a worthy reading of this symphony.

As to the audience reaction, well, it varied. In my remarks from the stage at the concert’s start, I tried to put the piece into its historical context. I felt that it was necessary to know the circumstances in which it was written to fully appreciate the piece. (One patron wrote on my comments page that he thought great works of art should be able to be appreciated on their own merits without context. I’m not sure whether this is true or not, but I certainly believe that in some cases - particularly where a work of art is directly related to events happening around the creator - context is an enormous enhancement.) Some audience members hated the piece (or as one patron wrote “hated, hated, hated” it). Others loved it. Most, I think, were appreciative of the experience, and were not anxious to undergo it again soon.

Everyone enjoyed the Rachmaninoff.

I was pleased to be able to do pieces like these, with an orchestra like this, for an audience that is willing to listen. The most frequent comment I receive about programming is “Thanks for bringing these pieces to Harrisburg”. War horses are great - no one loves them more than me - but one must also challenge the ear. Not only does it hopefully develop new tastes, but equally important, it keeps the more familiar repertoire sounding fresh.

All in all, during these very uncertain times, it’s been a good winter for the HSO.

If I may say so myself.

I’m sitting in O’Hare International Airport, on a layover, waiting for my flight to St. Louis. I’m heading out for a couple of days of upkeep rehearsals for the Movin’ Out tour. We have some new band members, and a new piano man (a young, talented guy from Boston, named Jon Abrams). Should be very busy, but a nice change of pace.

This past weekend, the HSO had its opening Pops weekend, An Evening of Epic Film Music. The weekend went extremely well. The audience was a bit smaller than usual on Saturday - probably attributable to the PSU-OSU football game combined with the third game of the World Series. This is the reality of the arts.... To be fair, if the Mets were playing in Game 3, and I had symphony tickets, I’d probably stay home too. The audience on Sunday was huge - almost sold out (many Saturday patrons exchanged tickets). Overall, it was a very good showing.

These pops concerts are particularly exhausting for me. Not only do I have to conduct what tends to be very dramatic, intense music, but also, I serve as host, stand-up comic, and in this weekend’s case, piano soloist. We did a fantasy for piano and orchestra on themes from Exodus, as well as less demanding piano and orchestra music from Forrest Gump and Chariots of Fire. There is also an added stress level, because of the limited rehearsal time combined with the length and variety of the program. I am indeed fortunate that the orchestra is so good. They never let me down. They also have great attitudes, laughing at my jokes, smiling, and allowing themselves to enjoy the performances. Don’t fool yourselves - this is not the case with many orchestras.

Having said all that, I myself had a great weekend. I thought the concerts were paced well, my banter was generally funny and interesting, the music was by and large well-selected, and the audiences seemed to have a rollicking time. The Harrisburg pops series is one of my biggest successes. When I arrived, audiences were dwindling and the board was ready to cancel the series entirely. Now, not only are sales great, but we have extended the series. Much thanks goes to our series sponsor, Capital Blue Cross, for their vote of confidence and continued underwriting. But the bottom line is, we are doing a good job of it, and for that I am justifiably proud.

The other fun part of this weekend’s concerts was the poster, which featured me as Moses, on Mt. Sinai, with the 10 Commandments in tow. I will get a copy, and post it on this blog - it’s one for the ages. (You can see some of the other pops posters, if you missed them, at my blog posts from 10/30/07 and 11/5/07).

It was another excellent opening for the Harrisburg Symphony. Nice houses, warm reception, and really fine playing by the orchestra.
I lost my voice almost completely during the rehearsal period. I was fighting a cold earlier in the week, and the combination of a throat becoming sore with four rehearsals of speaking to the orchestra in a very dry room knocked my vocal chords out of commission. I imagine it was a bit strange for the audience when I addressed them from the stage at the concert’s start. (Of course, this weekend would be the one that the sound system at the Forum went on the fritz...) But even the discomfort in my throat couldn’t dampen my enjoyment of the concerts.
Particularly nice for me was getting to perform Brahms’ Double Concerto with two friends - Daniel Gaisford and Kurt Nikkanen. It is a tricky piece to pull off, and I felt they were terrific.
But, as usual, it was the orchestra that made the weekend. This was an emotional weekend for the orchestra, which was mourning the loss of our orchestra manager, Bill Schmieding. The spirit of mutual support combined with the usual excellence of playing and passion for music-making reinforced my conviction that I’ve found myself a very happy place here in Harrisburg.

Yesterday was a very sad day for me and for the HSO. Our Orchestra Manager, Bill Schmieding died in his sleep on Wednesday night. He was only 55 years old.

Bill had managed the orchestra since before I came to Harrisburg. He had been a violinist in the Tulsa Philharmonic, before turning to management. He had profound knowledge of orchestral repertoire, and brought a lot of great music to my attention.

No one knew the ins and outs of the Harrisburg Symphony like Bill. His job encompassed a wide range of duties, ranging from personnel management to stage management and artistic and technical administration. He made sure that there was a high-quality orchestra on stage every rehearsal and performance, as well as ensuring for everything else that went into a performance. Nobody outside of the orchestra world can understand how important a good manager is to the success of what’s on stage. We in the HSO were very fortunate to have Bill. I don’t really know how we will smoothly operate without him.

On a personal level, Bill was my friend. He was not always the easiest guy to be with. He was an unabashed curmudgeon and cynic, but had a good sense of humor about himself, and about others. He, like all of us, had his demons, but he kept them in check. More than anything (except his wife and daughter), he loved the orchestra. He took great pride in his work, and when the orchestra played well, he never crowed or waxed poetic, but you could see in his quiet contentment, enormous pride in a job well done.

Sadly, his health was his Achilles heel. We all had a sense that it would eventually get the better of him, but nonetheless, his death came as a terrible shock.

My condolences go out to his family. I will miss him very much.

Well.... certainly not blogging.

It was a remarkably fast-moving summer. I always approach the summer with grandiose plans to accomplish great things while the Harrisburg Symphony is off-season, only to find myself at summer’s end having accomplished little. This summer I took the opposite approach, and planned on accomplishing very little. Much to my delight, I was thoroughly successful.

This is not to say that nothing got done. I was actually busily occupied most of the time. Musically, I got through the HSO holiday pops concerts very well. In fact, I thought they were some of our best. I also played three concerts for Market Square Concerts Summermusic, with my good friends in the Fry Street Quartet. I always enjoy this week, but in the past I only played on one concert. The extra load was certainly exhausting, but a great pleasure.

The Market Square week was somewhat bittersweet this year. For many years now, the guest artists and the rehearsals have been hosted by Linda and Jason Litton. They have become very dear friends. Sadly, this past summer was to be our last with Jason. He had been diagnosed several months earlier with a brain tumor, and we knew that he was in his last months. He died this week, and I am very sad to have lost a friend whose company I always enjoyed. He was a gentle man (and a gentleman), smart, curious, and a true music lover - even though he really knew very little about music. He was a great wine lover as well - and he knew a lot about wine, and served me some of the best wine I’ve ever tasted. I feel so fortunate to have had a few opportunities to spend some quality time with him this past summer. He will be sorely missed.



The other musical activity that occupied my time this summer was arranging and orchestrating some tunes for the holiday concerts I will be conducting in Naples, Florida in December. I did some very good work on those.

But most of my summer was spent being a dad. I’m very fortunate to have two great kids, and further fortunate to have had the time to really enjoy their company this summer. They were involved in several different camps, and because my wife, Marty, has been working full time, I did a bunch of shuttling them around, as well as doing lots of dad-like activities.



Back in June, my parents celebrated their 50th Anniversary. To celebrate, we got our whole family together in the Poconos for a wonderful vacation at Skytop resort. We all had a blast. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen my parents happier.



We also got to spend two lovely weeks on Cape Cod with my parents. Their house sits overlooking a wildlife sanctuary marsh, as well as Cape Cod Bay. The view is incredible, and changes, like a series of Monet paintings, as the light of day shifts. We swam a lot, ate great fresh fish, and enjoyed nice family time.



Now, the new season has crashed down upon us. The kids are back at school, Marty’s begun teaching, and I have taken on a new project for the next four months. I am conducting and teaching conducting at Penn State for the first semester. The regular conducting professor, Gerardo Edelstein, is on sabbatical, so I have agreed to fill in for him. I go up Tuesdays and Thursdays, conduct the orchestra, and teach three graduate students. So far, it’s been very tiring, but very enjoyable.

So there you have it - my essay, as it were, on “How I spent my summer vacation.”