Kultur Quiz Konzert

By

James Macon Walton

As noted in the following article, “Cake or Pie? Apple or Cherry?” one of my current goals is to produce pre-recorded broadcast programming featuring classical music. One may well ask why I should presume to think that I have anything to offer in such an undertaking–I who have no academic degree in any field of music; I who do not even sing or play a musical instrument.

One thing I do have is 63 years of attending performances and listening to music. For example, I have attended some 300 performances of opera in 22 different cities in twelve different countries. The other thing I have is what I consider to be a unique, interesting, imaginative, and innovative concept of programming for broadcasts of classical music.

There are, of course, a multitude of means to hear/see music, ranging from one’s individual performances, to public concerts and performances, to radio and televison broadcasts, recordings of various types, and nowadays to downloading of musical selections. Each such experience has its own special elements to engage the participant or member of the audience. Each provides its own criterion for the selection of the music to be heard/seen. Thus each presents its own separate challenges for the determination of the programming involved.

Perhaps the most restrictive format for programming of classical music is that required for broadcast over radio and television. For a one-hour broadcast to conform to the 58 minutes permitted there can be some flexibility for the spoken commentary, but the choice of music to be presented must fit within strict time limitations. Live performances have less stringent restrictions, but the selection of music to be performed must still meet a relatively prescribed framework. The only parameters for the individual’s own performance of music or listening to one’s own recordings is the availability of the music and the extent of one’s own free time.

Each forum for exposure to music presents its own advantages and its own drawbacks:

1. I almost never watch performances of music on television. One exception has been to watch the annual broadcasts of the New Year’s Day concerts from the Musikverein in Wien (of special interest since I lived in Wien for a year and was able to attend one such concert in later years). I have recorded several other programs I wished to archive on tape such as a complete Ring Cycle and the Monster Concert (10 pianos, 20 performers) produced by my friend, Dr. J. Cary Lewis, for Nebraska Public Television in 1975. My major objection to televised performances of music is two-fold: the sound quality is poor and the cameras dictate and restrict what I am able to see. However the programs are there if I do want to view them. I can record such programs to watch when I wish. I can watch what I like, and turn off that which I do not. There is the potential to experience performances of works I cannot otherwise see, compositions seldom performed elsewhere, not available to me where I live. The content for television must conform to time restrictions set for the length of the broadcast. As with other programming, this often leads to choices which leave me pleased to hear some of the music presented but having no real desire to hear other works selected (at least not on that occasion).
2. The only time I listen to the radio is when I am driving. The only content to which I listen on radio is classical music. In the area in which I live I have access to such music on my local station, WILL (Urbana, Illinois), or, when I am near Chicago, from WFMT. Both stations have excellent presentations of classical music. However, the sound quality of music over the radio in my car is poor; the musical selections are frequently interrupted by ads, news, and weather; and I seldom can listen to an entire broadcast–often tuning in after the program has started or having to turn off the radio before the program is finished. Perhaps one out of twenty pieces played is one I know and especially enjoy hearing. A good many are works I do not really want to hear, at least not at that particular time (may I never have to listen to Eine kliene Nachtmusik again in my life, but at least I can turn off the radio!). Such radio broadcasts, however, offer the listener perhaps the broadest opportunity for exposure to new and previously unknown compositions. One does not have to buy a ticket and go to a concert hall (even if such were readily available in one’s area). If I am within range of a classical music station, the radio is there, and free, and available when I have time to listen. The more I can listen, the greater the chance that I shall hear something new and enjoyable. The announcer’s commentary often includes interesting information about the piece and its composer. Nevertheless, I find that the typical radio broadcast, with its absolute time restrictions, leads to choices of unrelated content which usually are unimaginative and uninteresting, making it only by mere chance that the works include my favorites or that I learn something new I find to be of special interest.
3. For live performances, there is much greater flexibility for the selection of music to be performed. While programs might fit within broad parameters of time, there are no absolutes. Audience reaction in and of itself can be subject to only limited constraints. Nevertheless, the choice of works is determined to fit within what the venue will allow. There is no practical way to schedule two Shostakovich symphonies on a single program–a circumstance which on more that one occasion has resulted in the paring, for example, of a Shostakovich symphony with a Mozart Divertimento. Surely when I chose to attend the performance my desire was to hear the symphony. Even if I happen to like the Mozart, the combination of two such divergent works on the same program is, to me, illogical and gives me no pleasure.
4. If one can perform music, such individual activities could expand one’s enjoyment of familiar music and one’s engagement with new music (subject to one’s interest and abilities). This aspect however does not apply to me since all I can “play” is my stereo.
5. By far the form of “programming” which affords the greatest degree of personal control is that of listening to one’s own recordings of music (gleaned from whatever source is available). The choice is mine and mine alone. I can listen to my own records and CDs, in my own home, even my CDs in my car, as and when I wish. I can play whatever I wish–provided only that I have the means to acquire the recordings. (I am not into downloads, but I understand this source would greatly expand the availability of music to any given listener, although I doubt the quality of sound equals that of my Klipsch corner horns.) While I thus have control of the music to which I listen (subject only to financial or technical limits), unless I actively pursue a course of purchasing recordings of music with which I am unfamiliar I would be unlikely to expand my knowledge of otherwise unknown compositions.

I said at the outset of this piece that I feel I have a concept for programming of broadcasts of classical music which is unique, interesting, imaginative, and innovative. The basis of this concept is what I see as “connectivity.” The OCD aspect of my nature directs my mind to identify certain items and imagine what is for me logical and valid combinations of these things to form a cohesive but unconventional nexus. With regard to the programming of music for broadcast (or even for performance) I begin with an intentional and fundamental determination of diversity. Most of my suggested programs are founded upon having a spectrum of selections to include works by composers from differing national origins, covering a broad span of time, with works of varying but complementary styles and forms, featuring different but related subject matter. The use of recordings allows for the combination of varied media as part of a single program (for example, including opera on the same program with chamber music, etc.). My starting point in this process is to pick a “topic” or subject into which I place several compositions with which I am familiar, which are related to each other by being “connected” to this topic. I then expand this small group of musical pieces to seek out other works, less well known to me and/or my likely audience, but with a goal of creating a broader, more complete, grouping of works centering upon or connected to my original “topic.” I then check to see that in my selections I have a sufficient variety to present a valid, interesting and enjoyable combination of works for my intended audience. For the most part, I shall use music which is familiar, but, of necessity, to make choices for an inclusive program I must, on occasion, include selections of less well-known compositions. This is intentional. While I do not wish to antagonize listeners by seeming elitist or obtuse, neither do I intend to refrain from the presentation of music which may happen to be unknown or less well-known to any given member of my audience. Part of that which I select for my proposed programming is deliberately included in order to appeal to those members of my audience who are familiar with the very aspects of music which are unknown to or less well-known by my other listeners.

When one attends a performance of opera that event typically is of a single work, even if it runs four-and-a-half hours. One can but love the various traditions certain opera venues have devised to help the audience cope with these lengthy productions, such as picnics on the lawn between acts at Bournemouth or meals served, after the first act, in the boxes of Covent Garden or the Staatsoper in Wien (with all other members of the audience chowing down for meals brought from home!). The most notable exception to the one-opera-per-performance is the frequent paring of two or all three of the popular one-act works: Cavalaria Rusticana, Pagliacci, and Gianni Schicchi.

There are, or course, some programs which set forth a complete series of compositions. Hopefully one is able to experience entire song cycles, not just several songs taken from the whole. Some may find it interesting should a single program attempt both Opus 46 AND Opus 72 (all 16 pieces) of the Dvořák Slavonic Dances, but the more acceptable choice undoubtedly would be to limit these works to one or the other Opus, not both, for one evening’s concert. There are those who would relish a series of recitals, over a period of time, presenting all 32 Beethoven piano Sonatas. Such inclusive programs do exist, and I, for one, yearn for them.

However, consider the choice of works set for almost any other program for live performance or radio broadcast. Obviously the works presented are chosen from those with which the performer(s) is/are familiar–those they have in their repertoire and have recently rehearsed, or, for radio, ones which are available on the recordings in the possession of the station. Otherwise, what philosophy of musical relevance is there to a concert which, for example, presents the audience with compositions of Smetana, Ives, Pachabel, and Ginastera on the same program? As I have noted elsewhere, this combining of otherwise unrelated compositions (1) perhaps allows the listener to hear one or more favorite work(s), (2) forces the listener to tune out or turn off the playing of unwanted works, but, via the same means, (3) might well expose the listener to new and enjoyable compositions.

My concepts for programming are, to a degree, influenced by several circumstances which I have encountered over the years of my learning experiences related to music.

In one such incident, when I lived in Wien for a year as a “male war bride,” married to a Fulbright-scholar aspiring singer, I was eligible to participate in the vastly discounted ticket availability of the Viennese young peoples’ concert programs (Jeunesse Musicales International). This was my first exposure to programming which was topically-based. I cannot remember all of the differing series of concerts, but I do recall that one could elect to buy tickets for a series of concerts all of which centered on a specific type of programming: Large Orchestra, Chamber Music, Ancient Music, New Music, Lieder, Piano, Czechoslovakian Music, and undoubtedly others I do not now recall. While the individual programs presented great variety, within any given series there was a single and unified overriding subject matter. The Large Orchestra series, for example, featured the works of such composers as Mahler, Bruckner, Pfitzner, Beethoven, Brahms, perhaps Shostakovich and Tchaikovsky and even Dvořák, but was guaranteed NOT to include Mozart and Haydn. The opportunity to attend dozens of such concerts, at minimal cost, and especially to select the specific types of music I desired to hear, allowed both great pleasure and a magnificent educational opportunity.

Also while living in Wien, in 1969-70, I experienced the Viennese formula for the content of a program of Lieder. I do not now recall all of the specifics, but I do remember that there was an almost mandatory format which dictated, with rarely-permitted exceptions, the number of composers whose songs could be performed, specified the mix of the composers (who could be on the same program with other composers), the order of the composers on the program, and generally the number of songs of each composer which could be sung. While, despite these restrictions, there could be a fairly diverse scheduling of music on any given program, this was Wien–German was the language of choice, again with rare exceptions. Such programs were unlikely to feature songs of Barber, Britten, Rachmanikov, or Debussy. Still, for the year these recitals provided an unparallel introduction to German Lieder.

After my residence in Wien I lived in London for three and-a-half years, from 1970 to 1974. In addition to the other, more typical types of musical performances, in all media, which I was privileged to attend, I recall one two-night event advertised for presentation in the Chapel of King’s College, Cambridge. The two concerts, on consecutive nights, were scheduled to present performances of all and only the four Brahms’ Symphonies–the first two on the first night, and the last two on the second night. I ordered tickets and made plans to attend. I was deeply disappointed when the concerts were cancelled. Perhaps others were not as enamored of this single-subject series as was I! Just as thousands try to get tickets for the traditional complete Ring Cycles at the start of the seasons of the Staatsoper in Wien and the Royal Opera, Covent Garden in London (and perhaps elsewhere) each year, I myself would still very much enjoy a back-to-back series of the four Brahms Symphonies.

In another instance, I am reminded of a radio program during which the following story was told. I must paraphrase since I do not remember the person who told the story, nor do I remember all of the composers he referenced. What I do remember was to this effect. This man was preparing material for a prerecorded and later broadcast. He had an idea for a unique program. After considering the music of a number of composers, including but not limited to Aav, Abe, Amy, Bon, Dan, Erb, Fry, Goh, Hol, Hüe, Law, Leo, Maw, Paz, Tal, Sás, Uhl, Ujj, Wyk, and Yun, he settled on a choice of works by Egk, Cui, Bax, and Suk. He checked his timings. He then recorded his commentary for the pieces he had selected. Having prepared this material, he passed the project to his assistant to pull the recordings involved and edit the music and his remarks for the scheduled program. When he later listened to the broadcast of this material he was flabbergasted! As it turned out, the assistant had found a problem with the recording of one of the selections the announcer had made. The assistant, making his own decision, for this missing composition had substituted a piece by Max Vandermaesbrugge! Do you find humor in this? I did. My reaction was a broad smile, a giggle, and a virtual High Five. Still, I think it was an intriguing and refreshing approach to programming.

For my approach to programming, I start with an image, a topic, a subject, a nexus. (Unfortunately I have to avoid the use of “theme” since I speak not of a musical theme, but of an idea.) Around such a topic I draw in and mold works which, to my mind, share a relationship, in varying degrees, to the topic and thus to each other. My proposed programming for the syndication project (“Cake or Pie? Apple or Cherry?”) uses the topic of single compositions transformed, adapted, and arranged as variations of the music into different forms of compositions. By presenting the differing adaptations of the original works, the listener is introduced to this “same but different” dichotomy and encouraged either to choose one which is preferred or to accept that both, in their own but separate forms, are valid and enjoyable.

As illustrations of other topics I have in mind for programming, I present the following selections. These lists are for illustration only–I have not yet finished my research to determine a complete catalogue of works to be included with each topic. There are many more works I must find to include for these programs.

1. Let’s go for a Spin.

Wagner. The Flying Dutchman. Spinning Chorus
Dvořák. “The Golden Spinning Wheel”
Saint-Saens. “Omphale’s Spinning Wheel”
Schubert. Gretchen am Spinnrade
Tchaikovsky. Sleeping Beauty (segment when Princess Aurora pricks her finger on the spindle)
Irish Song. “The Spinning Wheel”

2. You’re a Card.

Stravinsky. Card Game
Barber. A Hand of Bridge
von Suppe. The Queen of Spades (Overture)
Scenes from the following featuring card games:

Tchaikovsky. Queen of Spades
Bizet. Carmen
Puccini. Manon Lescaut
Puccini. Girl of the Golden West
Verdi. La Traviata

3. The Swan.

Tchaikovsky. Swan Lake (excerpts)
Sibelius. The Swan of Tuonela
Saint-Seans. “The Swan” (from Carnival of the Animals)
Grieg. “A Swan” (Song)
Schubert. Schwanengesang, D. 744. (Schwangesang, D. 318, is not about a swan.)
Orlando Gibbons. The Silver Swan (Set of five-part Madrigals and Motets, 1612)
Orff. Carmina Burana. Olim lácus colueram. (Second Part. “In the Tavern”)
Wagner. Parsifal. Act I. (Entrance of Parsifal as he kills the wild swan, is berated for his act, and as he explains his
ignorance and thus the innocence of his actions)
Wagner. Lohengrin. Act I. (Scene with the arrival of Lohengrin standing in his swan-drawn skiff)
Wagner. Lohengrin. Act III. (Scene of the interaction of Lohengrin and the swan)
Sir Hubert Parry. “The poet’s song” (Song)

4. Climb every Mountain.

Grieg. Hall of the Mountain King
Mussorgsky. Night on Bald Mountain
Hovhaness. Mysterious Mountain
R. Strauss. Alpine Symphony
Schubert. “Die Berge,” D. 634

5. Trees.

Handel. Xerxes. Ombra mai fu
Joplin. Treemonisha. (Scene which explains how Treemonisha got her name)
Richard Wagner. Die Walküre. Act One. (Segment centering upon Nothung imbedded in the tree of Siegmund’s hut)
Siegfried Wagner. Die heilige Linde. (Prelude)
Verdi. Macbeth. (Segment referencing Macduff bringing Great Birnam Woods to attack Macbeth)

6. Down by the Riverside.

7. Birds.

8. The Moon.

Have some fun: see how many compositions you can identify to include on my programs, and, via my email contact shown on the Home Page, let me know which ones you choose. Honorable mention on my posting for the person with the best selection of additional works to be added to my list.

The greatest, and perhaps insurmountable, hurdle I face with respect to my concept for programming for broadcasts is the ever-present and all-powerful element–time. I have castigated the requirement of selecting compositions to be featured to unrelated works simply because the pieces happen to fit within a given and unyielding set number of minutes. My selection of music, which would then be combined with spoken commentary, centers on content, not time, yet programs for broadcast MUST conform to time parameters. I shall have some flexibility. For example, in my proposals for my “Cake or Pie? Apple or Cherry?,” if the total time needed is for a two-hour program, or two one-hour programs, I can rearrange the order of the works listed to try and fit the parts into a restricted but acceptable time frame. For selections involving longer sessions, perhaps requiring three hours or more, again I could rearrange the order of the pieces to be played for any given hour to fit within the bounds of a series of several separate programs. Whatever merit my concepts have, reality will reign. First, I shall seek to record the music and my commentary, then I must find the means to package and market the resulting product. I said my proposal is different; I did not say realizing it would be easy. Wish me luck?