Yes, it was free but no, you probably can’t replicate it. Through the largesse of the doorman at the stage door of the Broadway Theater (a former cast mate of mine), I attended opening night of the revival of Miss Saigon. I have never been to an opening night performance of a Broadway show (excepting the 1989 Circle in the Square production of Sweeney Todd that I was in). While I didn’t dote on the red carpet aspect of the evening, it was fun to watch some of the arrivals from my perch in the mezzanine lobby. And while I didn’t dress to the nines, I did at least add a Christian Dior pre-tied black bow tie to my impeccably pressed Lands’ End broadcloth shirt. I also got a commemorative ticket and ticket holder, and a copy of the souvenir program (one provided on every seat as you entered; it’s the little touches that make a big impression). But enough about me—on with the show!
Great set, great orchestra, great performers. And a house that was definitely out to have a good time. Having never seen the play before, I had a bit of a miscue in the shifts from 1975 to 1978 and back and forth again. But I got the gist of the plot (hello! Madama Butterfly).
My minor quibbles were with the introduction of the GI’s American wife (slightly awkwardly done), and her big scene in Act II which sort of came out of nowhere. My major quibble (and I know I’m fighting a losing battle here) is with the ‘sound design’ of the show. While it’s quite helpful to hear the soft, quiet, intimate moments between characters, it’s disconcerting to hear their belted out passion at the same volume. If you’re going to manipulate the sound, do a better job of it.
All of the performers put on a wonderful show, and it was a truly fun experience to feel the energy of opening night, especially when so many of the cast were making their Broadway debuts. That’s, and to quote from the show, The American Dream. Nothing beats that feeling. Thank you, Mr. Bill!
ConcertMeister
Thursday, March 30, 2017
Sunday, March 26, 2017
Silent Movies (3/11/17)
As you can see from the date above, I’m woefully behind in posting. Saturday,
the 11th, was another in the Silent Clowns series—Saturday Afternoon (1926) and Hands Up! (1926). This was the second of a three-part series featuring
Raymond Griffith, and these two films were selected by Ben Model, accompanist and President of the presenting organization.
Saturday Afternoon has Harry Langdon, as Harry Higgins, a henpecked husband, attempting to slink away from his wife for a Saturday afternoon double date. The film starts out with Harry wielding a sledgehammer in a blacksmith’s stable but keeping an eye on the clock (noon is soon). The ’smithy is ready with hot steel, but during Harry’s backswing his hammer goes flying. After retrieving it and preparing his backswing again, the whistle blows, Harry bolts, and the ’smithy is left holding the red-hot steel. And we’re off!
At home, while Harry is trying to retrieve his personal hoard of coins (wifey holds the purse strings in that family), he is thwarted by his wife. After she finally gives him a dime (contrived circumstance—hey, it’s silent film comedy), he collects coins from his second private hoard and meets the mastermind of the double date. Well, of course the dates don’t work out, and there are humorous episodes involving the first dates, the proposed second dates, and the thugs who were the real dates of the second dates. Confused yet? All ends well, with the wife finding him in trouble and then blaming herself for giving him the dime!
This is interesting. The title card slides add a lot of humor to these silent films. As much as the visuals delight us, the written word setups are important too. Here are two from Saturday Afternoon: “In 1864 when Lincoln declared all men free and equal, did he, or did he not, include husbands?” and “Harry Higgins, just a crumb from the sponge cake of Life.”
As I was watching Hands Up! with Mr. Griffith, I found myself thinking that I had seen it before, and indeed I had. Here’s a snippet that I wrote in July of 2012 (same organization, same film). “The feature was Hands Up!—a film starring Raymond Griffith. The plot was all over the place with Civil War agents and spies and a gold mine owner and his daughters and Lincoln and Brigham Young and—well, you get the idea. Once again, laugh out loud situations (including a painting of a supposed firing squad victim—I’m not making this up, you know!).”
So, almost five years later, seeing it a second time was interesting because even though I had already seen it, I was aware of different things this time around. Worth seeing again five years from now? Maybe so. And I laughed out loud again, as did this audience, this time around.
NYC peeps, if you want to see the third installment, it happens on Saturday, April 29. (Alas, no popcorn allowed in the Bruno Walter auditorium.)
ConcertMeister
the 11th, was another in the Silent Clowns series—Saturday Afternoon (1926) and Hands Up! (1926). This was the second of a three-part series featuring
Raymond Griffith, and these two films were selected by Ben Model, accompanist and President of the presenting organization.
Saturday Afternoon has Harry Langdon, as Harry Higgins, a henpecked husband, attempting to slink away from his wife for a Saturday afternoon double date. The film starts out with Harry wielding a sledgehammer in a blacksmith’s stable but keeping an eye on the clock (noon is soon). The ’smithy is ready with hot steel, but during Harry’s backswing his hammer goes flying. After retrieving it and preparing his backswing again, the whistle blows, Harry bolts, and the ’smithy is left holding the red-hot steel. And we’re off!
At home, while Harry is trying to retrieve his personal hoard of coins (wifey holds the purse strings in that family), he is thwarted by his wife. After she finally gives him a dime (contrived circumstance—hey, it’s silent film comedy), he collects coins from his second private hoard and meets the mastermind of the double date. Well, of course the dates don’t work out, and there are humorous episodes involving the first dates, the proposed second dates, and the thugs who were the real dates of the second dates. Confused yet? All ends well, with the wife finding him in trouble and then blaming herself for giving him the dime!
This is interesting. The title card slides add a lot of humor to these silent films. As much as the visuals delight us, the written word setups are important too. Here are two from Saturday Afternoon: “In 1864 when Lincoln declared all men free and equal, did he, or did he not, include husbands?” and “Harry Higgins, just a crumb from the sponge cake of Life.”
As I was watching Hands Up! with Mr. Griffith, I found myself thinking that I had seen it before, and indeed I had. Here’s a snippet that I wrote in July of 2012 (same organization, same film). “The feature was Hands Up!—a film starring Raymond Griffith. The plot was all over the place with Civil War agents and spies and a gold mine owner and his daughters and Lincoln and Brigham Young and—well, you get the idea. Once again, laugh out loud situations (including a painting of a supposed firing squad victim—I’m not making this up, you know!).”
So, almost five years later, seeing it a second time was interesting because even though I had already seen it, I was aware of different things this time around. Worth seeing again five years from now? Maybe so. And I laughed out loud again, as did this audience, this time around.
NYC peeps, if you want to see the third installment, it happens on Saturday, April 29. (Alas, no popcorn allowed in the Bruno Walter auditorium.)
ConcertMeister
Friday, March 10, 2017
Rule, Brittania (3/4/17)
Broadwood Junction – Francis Liu (violin), Patrick T. Jones (keyboard), Sarah Stone (Baroque cello), Evan Saddler (percussion)
The name Broadwood Junction is taken from an 1809 Broadwood square piano found and purchased at an estate sale. (Square piano is a bit of a misnomer; it is really rectangular.) Similar in nature to a modern piano, it is smaller, with a smaller keyboard range and a much smaller sounding board (and no steel frame to amplify the sound). Hence, it sounds more like a harpsichord but the strings are not plucked. It has a softer sound but can be amplified, Vivaldi-style, by playing many notes over and over again, very rapidly.
Announced from the stage:
Assorted pieces from A Selection of Scotch, English, Irish and Foreign Airs Adapted for the Fife, Violin, or German Flute: Humbly Dedicated to the Volunteer and Defensive Bands of Great Britain and Ireland (Published in Glasgow, 1782–1801)
Sonata in G Major, Op. 25, no. 3, C. 128 (1795) – III. Rule Brittania. Rondo Vivace – J.L. Dussek (1760–1812)
Variations on “God Save the King,” W0O 78 – L.V. Beethoven (1770–1827)
Concerto for the Harp or Piano-Forte, Op. 15 (1789) – III. Rondo: Molto Allegro – Dussek
The Naval Battle and Total Defeat of the Dutch Fleet by Admiral Duncan (1797) – Dussek
Note those dates, especially the Dussek. Just after 1776 and its aftermath (major war). Britain was trying to establish itself as a major superpower. And they liked their really, really long titles. But enough of history and politics; on to the music. The mix of Airs was introduced by drum, violin (folk tune–style, i.e., almost fiddle), then with added piano and cello. It was very chamber music–esque, taking the airs/tunes and matching/smashing them together.
Even though we didn’t hear the lyrics for the first Dussek movement, they were read to us: “Rule, Brittania, Brittania rule the waves.” Not ‘rules’ because, as noted above, Britain was not yet the superpower it wanted to be.
The Beethoven was for solo piano. Strangely, Mr. Jones was playing the 1809 piano from an iPad score. Totally weird. The variations were fairly straightforward for the first two or three, and then ventured into a perpetual motion variation, followed by a rhythmically diverse one, followed by one with a much wider range from the piano keyboard. A minor mode, more subdued variation followed, ending with block chords with filips at the end of each main phrase. Hmm, Beethoven seems to have known what he was doing.
Another set of airs from the first piece on the program followed, with violin and cello (strummed and plucked); violin and drum; drum and violin (yes, there is a difference) with a sort of a reel; and drum, violin, and cello, with the sense of a round, though it really wasn’t. Next, announced from the stage, was The Ploughboy, which had a jolly feel though it seemed a little contrived; it was not really my favorite.
What followed was A Ploughman Sailor and then attacca right into the Naval Battle, which included a slide show of notes from the score, referring to specific portions of the score. The piece was very dramatic, especially because it incorporated all four performers, and the tambourine, added to the percussion mix, added a lot to the drama. The text ‘narration’ was bit kitschy but actually worked.
This was a pleasant, somewhat intriguing look into an earlier era—one which I thoroughly enjoyed. Rule, Brittania, indeed! Just not here.
ConcertMeister
The name Broadwood Junction is taken from an 1809 Broadwood square piano found and purchased at an estate sale. (Square piano is a bit of a misnomer; it is really rectangular.) Similar in nature to a modern piano, it is smaller, with a smaller keyboard range and a much smaller sounding board (and no steel frame to amplify the sound). Hence, it sounds more like a harpsichord but the strings are not plucked. It has a softer sound but can be amplified, Vivaldi-style, by playing many notes over and over again, very rapidly.
Announced from the stage:
Assorted pieces from A Selection of Scotch, English, Irish and Foreign Airs Adapted for the Fife, Violin, or German Flute: Humbly Dedicated to the Volunteer and Defensive Bands of Great Britain and Ireland (Published in Glasgow, 1782–1801)
Sonata in G Major, Op. 25, no. 3, C. 128 (1795) – III. Rule Brittania. Rondo Vivace – J.L. Dussek (1760–1812)
Variations on “God Save the King,” W0O 78 – L.V. Beethoven (1770–1827)
Concerto for the Harp or Piano-Forte, Op. 15 (1789) – III. Rondo: Molto Allegro – Dussek
The Naval Battle and Total Defeat of the Dutch Fleet by Admiral Duncan (1797) – Dussek
Note those dates, especially the Dussek. Just after 1776 and its aftermath (major war). Britain was trying to establish itself as a major superpower. And they liked their really, really long titles. But enough of history and politics; on to the music. The mix of Airs was introduced by drum, violin (folk tune–style, i.e., almost fiddle), then with added piano and cello. It was very chamber music–esque, taking the airs/tunes and matching/smashing them together.
Even though we didn’t hear the lyrics for the first Dussek movement, they were read to us: “Rule, Brittania, Brittania rule the waves.” Not ‘rules’ because, as noted above, Britain was not yet the superpower it wanted to be.
The Beethoven was for solo piano. Strangely, Mr. Jones was playing the 1809 piano from an iPad score. Totally weird. The variations were fairly straightforward for the first two or three, and then ventured into a perpetual motion variation, followed by a rhythmically diverse one, followed by one with a much wider range from the piano keyboard. A minor mode, more subdued variation followed, ending with block chords with filips at the end of each main phrase. Hmm, Beethoven seems to have known what he was doing.
Another set of airs from the first piece on the program followed, with violin and cello (strummed and plucked); violin and drum; drum and violin (yes, there is a difference) with a sort of a reel; and drum, violin, and cello, with the sense of a round, though it really wasn’t. Next, announced from the stage, was The Ploughboy, which had a jolly feel though it seemed a little contrived; it was not really my favorite.
What followed was A Ploughman Sailor and then attacca right into the Naval Battle, which included a slide show of notes from the score, referring to specific portions of the score. The piece was very dramatic, especially because it incorporated all four performers, and the tambourine, added to the percussion mix, added a lot to the drama. The text ‘narration’ was bit kitschy but actually worked.
This was a pleasant, somewhat intriguing look into an earlier era—one which I thoroughly enjoyed. Rule, Brittania, indeed! Just not here.
ConcertMeister
Monday, March 6, 2017
Midday Masterpieces (3/1/17)
Schubert: Arpeggione Sonata, D 821
Brahms: Sonata No. 2 in F major, Op. 99
James Jeonghwan Kim (cello) and Jinhee Park (piano)
Unfortunately, WQXR does not give a program or a breakdown of movements for Midday Masterpieces. As a result, there was awkward applause after the first movement of the Schubert. WQXR should know better and do better.
In an odd weather situation, the sun broke through the clouds as Mr. Kim began playing. After a subdued opening, there was a very playful section. Cello strumming led to a repeat of the opening. There was a nice pizzicato (plucked strings) section, followed by a strong finish, after a few false endings. After a subdued section to begin the second movement, it was mostly long lines in the cello and light rhythm for the piano. In what might have been the third movement, there was a song-like section (hello, Schubert!) leading into a folk dance section. Note that I said, “What might have been.” This is one of my problems with Midday—the lack of a printed program. I don’t need glossy; I don’t need extensive player bios; however, a list of works, with a breakdown of movements would be a big plus in my book. There. Down off of my Hyde Park pedestal.
The first movement of the Brahms featured very full sound with lots of rippling accompaniment, including expressive lower range playing from the cello. There were many energetic sections and phrases, with both the piano and cello definitely equal partners. The pizzicato playing that began the second movement soon moved to bowed playing (a smoother line). A slower movement, in general, it had an interesting section where the musical themes were displaced octave by octave and then again, octave by octave, but pizzicato. The third movement was brisk, with contrasting rhythms and tempos back and forth, while the final movement was quick and, once again, song-like.
One stage comportment note here; the Greene Space is not the most accommodating, sort of a thrust stage with no real wing space. That said (and I know that these are student performers from the Juilliard school), a bow should be both an acknowledgment of the audience and a true expression of the performer’s success. Mr. Kim managed this pretty well, but Ms. Park seemed almost apologetic. No. Own your success. Bow, acknowledge the audience, and then leave the stage. If applause warrants, return for a shorter bow, and then leave the stage. I don’t need to see the ‘hand over heart’ gesture (yes, we know that you love that we love you, but it’s becoming a cliché). Acknowledge us, acknowledge your pleasure, and leave us all happy.
I’ll most likely be back for the first Wednesday of April.
ConcertMeister
Brahms: Sonata No. 2 in F major, Op. 99
James Jeonghwan Kim (cello) and Jinhee Park (piano)
Unfortunately, WQXR does not give a program or a breakdown of movements for Midday Masterpieces. As a result, there was awkward applause after the first movement of the Schubert. WQXR should know better and do better.
In an odd weather situation, the sun broke through the clouds as Mr. Kim began playing. After a subdued opening, there was a very playful section. Cello strumming led to a repeat of the opening. There was a nice pizzicato (plucked strings) section, followed by a strong finish, after a few false endings. After a subdued section to begin the second movement, it was mostly long lines in the cello and light rhythm for the piano. In what might have been the third movement, there was a song-like section (hello, Schubert!) leading into a folk dance section. Note that I said, “What might have been.” This is one of my problems with Midday—the lack of a printed program. I don’t need glossy; I don’t need extensive player bios; however, a list of works, with a breakdown of movements would be a big plus in my book. There. Down off of my Hyde Park pedestal.
The first movement of the Brahms featured very full sound with lots of rippling accompaniment, including expressive lower range playing from the cello. There were many energetic sections and phrases, with both the piano and cello definitely equal partners. The pizzicato playing that began the second movement soon moved to bowed playing (a smoother line). A slower movement, in general, it had an interesting section where the musical themes were displaced octave by octave and then again, octave by octave, but pizzicato. The third movement was brisk, with contrasting rhythms and tempos back and forth, while the final movement was quick and, once again, song-like.
One stage comportment note here; the Greene Space is not the most accommodating, sort of a thrust stage with no real wing space. That said (and I know that these are student performers from the Juilliard school), a bow should be both an acknowledgment of the audience and a true expression of the performer’s success. Mr. Kim managed this pretty well, but Ms. Park seemed almost apologetic. No. Own your success. Bow, acknowledge the audience, and then leave the stage. If applause warrants, return for a shorter bow, and then leave the stage. I don’t need to see the ‘hand over heart’ gesture (yes, we know that you love that we love you, but it’s becoming a cliché). Acknowledge us, acknowledge your pleasure, and leave us all happy.
I’ll most likely be back for the first Wednesday of April.
ConcertMeister
Thursday, March 2, 2017
Arts and Artists of Tomorrow (2/27/17)
Oh, who the heck are we kidding? It's Songbook, up-and-coming composers and lyricists. This month was a twist, because an artist fell through the cracks. Our intrepid host, John Znidarsic, sent out an SOS and got folks to raid their trunks and to write new songs for A Call for Hope – New Songs of Inspiration.
We had songs from approximately 15 or so composers and lyricists, and easily that many or more vocalists, all volunteering their time and talents.
Love Who You Love, by Ashton Michael Corey (and sung by him) was a blues/country/Billy Joel kind of song with the obligatory clap-along section that sort of petered out because, um, you know, we don't know when it's ending. Two songs by Ross Baum followed, both with a touch of gospel feel. There were nice, basic vocal harmonies, but they worked. Be the Dust, from Adam and Eve had a slightly more modern compositional style, with really nice vocal harmonies that were almost hymn-like (with the good and bad implications of that). The dust was always present.
Though the message was a little scattered, Girls in the Boys Club, from The State of Hockey, the Musical (I'm not making this up, you know!) was a tale of girls on the outside but who really contribute. OK, the next one was—muddled. Be the Light, a stand-alone, world premiere song, had a theme that stated that you can do anything! (so long as it's the same-old, same-old)—but what if what I want is brand new? It was inspiring and relatively strong from a lyrics standpoint (lyrics by Manda Leigh Blunt).
The winner of the evening for me was All I Need, by Michael Uselmann and Alex Koceja. With a bossa nova beat, the singer presented a very clever one-note joke: I love me! that poked just the right amount of fun at herself.
Two songs from The Mollyhouse, a musical about gay life in London in the 1700s(?) were interesting but not fully fleshed out enough. I think there's a nugget of info there waiting to be explored.
The last two songs by Jake Chapman and Henry Nettleton were just too, gosh, trying to be upbeat and rah-rah, such that they took this idea of Hope and Inspiration just slightly over the line and into cliché. Don't get me wrong—there was strong talent on the stage, vocally, compositionally, and lyrically, but it was just slightly too saccharine. Did I mention that they all volunteered their time and talents? This is a very worthwhile program and one that I will continue to follow in the future.
ConcertMeister
We had songs from approximately 15 or so composers and lyricists, and easily that many or more vocalists, all volunteering their time and talents.
Love Who You Love, by Ashton Michael Corey (and sung by him) was a blues/country/Billy Joel kind of song with the obligatory clap-along section that sort of petered out because, um, you know, we don't know when it's ending. Two songs by Ross Baum followed, both with a touch of gospel feel. There were nice, basic vocal harmonies, but they worked. Be the Dust, from Adam and Eve had a slightly more modern compositional style, with really nice vocal harmonies that were almost hymn-like (with the good and bad implications of that). The dust was always present.
Though the message was a little scattered, Girls in the Boys Club, from The State of Hockey, the Musical (I'm not making this up, you know!) was a tale of girls on the outside but who really contribute. OK, the next one was—muddled. Be the Light, a stand-alone, world premiere song, had a theme that stated that you can do anything! (so long as it's the same-old, same-old)—but what if what I want is brand new? It was inspiring and relatively strong from a lyrics standpoint (lyrics by Manda Leigh Blunt).
The winner of the evening for me was All I Need, by Michael Uselmann and Alex Koceja. With a bossa nova beat, the singer presented a very clever one-note joke: I love me! that poked just the right amount of fun at herself.
Two songs from The Mollyhouse, a musical about gay life in London in the 1700s(?) were interesting but not fully fleshed out enough. I think there's a nugget of info there waiting to be explored.
The last two songs by Jake Chapman and Henry Nettleton were just too, gosh, trying to be upbeat and rah-rah, such that they took this idea of Hope and Inspiration just slightly over the line and into cliché. Don't get me wrong—there was strong talent on the stage, vocally, compositionally, and lyrically, but it was just slightly too saccharine. Did I mention that they all volunteered their time and talents? This is a very worthwhile program and one that I will continue to follow in the future.
ConcertMeister
Friday, February 17, 2017
Sanctum et Saeculare (2/11/17)
Subtitled “Secular love songs and sacred English song and chant to the Virgin Mary, from the 13th century to the 21st,” Jacqueline Horner-Kwiatek, voice, and Elizabeth Weinfield, vielle and viol, presented a very interesting program on a recent Saturday afternoon. Paired with early music including plainsong chant and medieval songs, the afternoon also included modern settings (1991 and 2016) of medieval texts.
Ms. Horner-Kwiatek sang with a somewhat hooting tone, and minimal vibrato, which is par for the course with early-music practitioners. Her diction was very clean in middle English, French, and German. The plainsong chant was clear, and the gradual use of chant morphng into sacred and secular song was very nicely illustrated. Ms. Weinfield’s playing was also first rate. The vielle is a stringed instrument similar in tone to a violin, but played almost like a cello, held between her knees (nothing on the bottom, to set on the ground like a cello, though). The viol is similar, though it has frets on the finger board and was described as a forerunner to the guitar.
The centerpiece of the afternoon was the setting of three 14th-century secular
love poems (compiled in the 15th century, as the Findern Manuscript).
Andrew Lovett, who spoke at the concert, set Fortune’s Will (2016) – I. Ah, Mercy, Fortune; II. Continuance (solo voice). The first had humming to start, and then moved into a setting of the text. Throughout, the humming and the texts alternated back and forth. Each of the three verses ended with a repeated refrain. The second song had the text somewhat dissected, with vocal tics thrown in.
Later in the program we heard Continuance in a composition for voice and viol, by Joel Phillip Friedman (also 2016, and he also spoke about his setting). This one was moodier than Mr. Lovett’s version, mostly tuneful and less spiky, but with some pitch bending at times. It then had a dramatic section before ending calmly, for both voice and viol.
There were additional pieces before concluding with Findern Songs (2016) –
I. Continuance; II. Where Y have chosen; III. Ah, Mercy, Fortune – Daniel Thomas Davis. Mr. Davis did not speak, though Ms. Horner-Kwiatek read a message he had sent to her cell phone. Continuance was a much more modern setting with slight dissonances from the very beginning and a stronger viol presence. Where Y have chosen had a Celtic, folk song, sing-song-y setting of the individual syllables of the words. At times, the viol had some long sustained lines and at other times it matched the syllabic, rhythmic vocal setting. Ah, Mercy, Fortune was an energetic setting of the three verses. The first verse ended with a pretty rendition of the refrain. The second verse was very similar, and the refrain was like revisiting a new friend. While the third verse was fairly much more of the same, the refrain veered off and was treated in a new way, to end the piece.
The blend of old and new made for a varied program, although it wasn’t to everyone’s liking, as there were a few leave takers between some of the sets. Still, I enjoyed it, as a once in a while type of concert. I’m used to hearing this type of music, especially the early music portions, in a church setting, so the chants and the earliest settings were a little on the dry side—no built-in reverb the way you’d hear it in an old stone church. A very minor quibble.
Ms. Horner-Kwiatek sang with a somewhat hooting tone, and minimal vibrato, which is par for the course with early-music practitioners. Her diction was very clean in middle English, French, and German. The plainsong chant was clear, and the gradual use of chant morphng into sacred and secular song was very nicely illustrated. Ms. Weinfield’s playing was also first rate. The vielle is a stringed instrument similar in tone to a violin, but played almost like a cello, held between her knees (nothing on the bottom, to set on the ground like a cello, though). The viol is similar, though it has frets on the finger board and was described as a forerunner to the guitar.
The centerpiece of the afternoon was the setting of three 14th-century secular
love poems (compiled in the 15th century, as the Findern Manuscript).
Andrew Lovett, who spoke at the concert, set Fortune’s Will (2016) – I. Ah, Mercy, Fortune; II. Continuance (solo voice). The first had humming to start, and then moved into a setting of the text. Throughout, the humming and the texts alternated back and forth. Each of the three verses ended with a repeated refrain. The second song had the text somewhat dissected, with vocal tics thrown in.
Later in the program we heard Continuance in a composition for voice and viol, by Joel Phillip Friedman (also 2016, and he also spoke about his setting). This one was moodier than Mr. Lovett’s version, mostly tuneful and less spiky, but with some pitch bending at times. It then had a dramatic section before ending calmly, for both voice and viol.
There were additional pieces before concluding with Findern Songs (2016) –
I. Continuance; II. Where Y have chosen; III. Ah, Mercy, Fortune – Daniel Thomas Davis. Mr. Davis did not speak, though Ms. Horner-Kwiatek read a message he had sent to her cell phone. Continuance was a much more modern setting with slight dissonances from the very beginning and a stronger viol presence. Where Y have chosen had a Celtic, folk song, sing-song-y setting of the individual syllables of the words. At times, the viol had some long sustained lines and at other times it matched the syllabic, rhythmic vocal setting. Ah, Mercy, Fortune was an energetic setting of the three verses. The first verse ended with a pretty rendition of the refrain. The second verse was very similar, and the refrain was like revisiting a new friend. While the third verse was fairly much more of the same, the refrain veered off and was treated in a new way, to end the piece.
The blend of old and new made for a varied program, although it wasn’t to everyone’s liking, as there were a few leave takers between some of the sets. Still, I enjoyed it, as a once in a while type of concert. I’m used to hearing this type of music, especially the early music portions, in a church setting, so the chants and the earliest settings were a little on the dry side—no built-in reverb the way you’d hear it in an old stone church. A very minor quibble.
Thursday, February 16, 2017
The Silent Clowns Film Series (2/4/17)
For this season (the 20th!), the staff is choosing the films, and the ones to choose from all feature Raymond Griffith, a major silent film star who is pretty much unknown to me. After working in films in the ’teens as a comedy juvenile, he went behind the camera until he eventually developed his comedy character as an elegant, top-hatted, mustachioed gent, and became a star in his own right. Who knew? I didn’t, but now we all do. The feature, Paths to Paradise (1925) was preceded by a Laurel and Hardy short, Do Detectives Think? (1927).
In addition to being notable for having Laurel and Hardy appear in their ‘standard’ costumes of suits and bowler hats for the first time, this was also a very funny film. And one bit where Laurel gives his own hat to Hardy while keeping Hardy’s on his head is quite amusing. Even when you know it’s going to happen again and again, it’s still funny. Okay, here’s the plot.
The boys are sent by their agency to protect a judge who is being threatened by the Tipton Slasher. Unfortunately, the boys are the least skilled detectives in their agency. Through many bumbling interludes, the boys finally (by dumb luck) catch their man. One of my favorite scenes featured Laurel in a graveyard trying to retrieve both of the windblown, aforementioned bowlers and then being frightened over and over again by his own shadow. The lighting created the gags in a very interesting way. And the gag was brought full circle when the shadow of a billy goat ends up looking like a devil and frightening Hardy.
Paths to Paradise stars Raymond Griffith (the Dude from Duluth) and Betty Compson (Molly) as a pair of con men, if you will, trying to con each other and the San Francisco police. Once they team up against the police, it’s no contest, although one of the police detectives keeps trying to get Compson to see the error of her ways and go straight. She does, but unfortunately we don’t get to see that. You’ll understand why later.
As a team, they attempt to steal a diamond necklace from a rich man who is having a party for his daughter’s upcoming wedding, and wants to present her with the necklace. Compson is undercover as a maid, and Griffith is undercover as a detective, even though there are already two detectives supposedly guarding the safe and the necklace.
Once Griffith actually has the safe and is plotting his and Compson’s escape, we were treated to a very funny ‘lighting’ scene in this film, too. One of the detectives is using a flashlight to sweep the room, and as it catches Griffith in its beam, Buddy the dog distracts the detective so that the detective doesn’t see Griffith. Buddy eventually grabs the flashlight in his teeth, and every time Griffith tries to avoid the flashlight beam, it catches him, but the detective never sees him. Finally, Griffith gets out of the beam of light and out of the room and hooks up with Compson to open the safe. Once the two of them have the necklace, they hightail it out of the mansion, though finally seen by the detectives, and ‘the chase’ begins.
This is a very funny chase. The thieving duo jumps into a car and they’re off. They are soon followed by a police car as well as a brigade of police motorcyclists. As the chase wends its way south toward Mexico, additional cyclists pile on—from San Luis Obispo, from LA, from San Diego—with what looks like close to a hundred cyclists. At one point it seems as though the duo’s car is going to run out of gas but, fortuitously, they’re hurtling down the road next to a tanker truck. So Griffith turns the wheel over to Compson (mind you, the speedometer reads between 80mph and 100mph) and he siphons gas out of the tanker into their gas tank! Then when the duo’s car crosses the border, the cops just stop, and refuse to cross. Something to do with respecting international borders. And that’s where the film ends. Sort of.
Apparently, from original reviews, we learn that Compson does have a change of heart and the dapper Dude from Duluth is gallant enough to return with her and the necklace back to the USofA and to the bride-to-be’s father. Unfortunately, that seventh reel of the film is lost (so far). So the end of reel six is satisfying as an ending, but ‘what-ifs’ abound.
Ben Model once again supplied wonderful piano scores for both films. I especially liked the way he sync’ed rhythmically with Laurel and Hardy’s rhythmic sight gags and head nods. And the audience supplied a real-live laugh track better than any ’60s or ’70s sitcom. There are two more to come in this Griffith series, with two more staff members choosing the films, and I plan on being at both of them. I look forward to getting better acquainted with Griffith.
In addition to being notable for having Laurel and Hardy appear in their ‘standard’ costumes of suits and bowler hats for the first time, this was also a very funny film. And one bit where Laurel gives his own hat to Hardy while keeping Hardy’s on his head is quite amusing. Even when you know it’s going to happen again and again, it’s still funny. Okay, here’s the plot.
The boys are sent by their agency to protect a judge who is being threatened by the Tipton Slasher. Unfortunately, the boys are the least skilled detectives in their agency. Through many bumbling interludes, the boys finally (by dumb luck) catch their man. One of my favorite scenes featured Laurel in a graveyard trying to retrieve both of the windblown, aforementioned bowlers and then being frightened over and over again by his own shadow. The lighting created the gags in a very interesting way. And the gag was brought full circle when the shadow of a billy goat ends up looking like a devil and frightening Hardy.
Paths to Paradise stars Raymond Griffith (the Dude from Duluth) and Betty Compson (Molly) as a pair of con men, if you will, trying to con each other and the San Francisco police. Once they team up against the police, it’s no contest, although one of the police detectives keeps trying to get Compson to see the error of her ways and go straight. She does, but unfortunately we don’t get to see that. You’ll understand why later.
As a team, they attempt to steal a diamond necklace from a rich man who is having a party for his daughter’s upcoming wedding, and wants to present her with the necklace. Compson is undercover as a maid, and Griffith is undercover as a detective, even though there are already two detectives supposedly guarding the safe and the necklace.
Once Griffith actually has the safe and is plotting his and Compson’s escape, we were treated to a very funny ‘lighting’ scene in this film, too. One of the detectives is using a flashlight to sweep the room, and as it catches Griffith in its beam, Buddy the dog distracts the detective so that the detective doesn’t see Griffith. Buddy eventually grabs the flashlight in his teeth, and every time Griffith tries to avoid the flashlight beam, it catches him, but the detective never sees him. Finally, Griffith gets out of the beam of light and out of the room and hooks up with Compson to open the safe. Once the two of them have the necklace, they hightail it out of the mansion, though finally seen by the detectives, and ‘the chase’ begins.
This is a very funny chase. The thieving duo jumps into a car and they’re off. They are soon followed by a police car as well as a brigade of police motorcyclists. As the chase wends its way south toward Mexico, additional cyclists pile on—from San Luis Obispo, from LA, from San Diego—with what looks like close to a hundred cyclists. At one point it seems as though the duo’s car is going to run out of gas but, fortuitously, they’re hurtling down the road next to a tanker truck. So Griffith turns the wheel over to Compson (mind you, the speedometer reads between 80mph and 100mph) and he siphons gas out of the tanker into their gas tank! Then when the duo’s car crosses the border, the cops just stop, and refuse to cross. Something to do with respecting international borders. And that’s where the film ends. Sort of.
Apparently, from original reviews, we learn that Compson does have a change of heart and the dapper Dude from Duluth is gallant enough to return with her and the necklace back to the USofA and to the bride-to-be’s father. Unfortunately, that seventh reel of the film is lost (so far). So the end of reel six is satisfying as an ending, but ‘what-ifs’ abound.
Ben Model once again supplied wonderful piano scores for both films. I especially liked the way he sync’ed rhythmically with Laurel and Hardy’s rhythmic sight gags and head nods. And the audience supplied a real-live laugh track better than any ’60s or ’70s sitcom. There are two more to come in this Griffith series, with two more staff members choosing the films, and I plan on being at both of them. I look forward to getting better acquainted with Griffith.
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