• Total No. of Pieces:  76
• No. of pieces written before the 20th century: 39
• No. of pieces written in the 20th or 21st centuries:  37
• No. of pieces written within the last 60 years:  9
• No. of pieces written within the last 10 years:  4

At first glance, the relationship of pre 20th c. to 20th/21st c. pieces would seem reasonable for an orchestra trying to not be completely stuck in the past. (Aside:  To be sure, there are orchestras that are intentionally “stuck in the past” – no disrespect to them intended.  But – IMO – a “modern” orchestra should be equally concerned with “oldies” and “newies”.)

Look more closely at the 20th c. pieces and the view changes quite a bit.  For example:

• Gershwin – 2 pieces (Concerto in F and American in Paris)
• Copland – 1  (Appalachian Spring)
• Rachmaninoff – 2 (Symphony #2, Piano Concerto #3)
• Ravel - 2  (La Valse, Piano Concerto in G)
• Orff – 1 (Carmina Burana)
• Janacek – 1 (Sinfonietta)
• Prokofiev – 2 (Alexander Nevsky, Symphony #5)
• Schoenberg – 1 (Verklarte Nacht)
• Shostakovich – 1 (Symphony #5)
• Stravinsky – 1 (Rite of Spring)

I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with these pieces – in fact, I love them all (well, except for the Rachmaninoff).   But this is pretty conservative stuff, some of them almost pops concert material.  However, I will give them points for the fact that Alexander Nevsky will be presented with the film (a great show – I’ve seen this twice), and the Stravinsky will also be danced in some way (exactly how isn’t clear).

The more recent items?  World premieres of pieces by Gabriela Lena Frank (unknown to me), Knussen, and a US premiere from Golijov.  And pieces by Rouse, Sierra, Lutoslawski (Funeral Music).  OK, not bad.  

As usual, the 20th century American Symphonists - Persichetti, Riegger, Schuman, Sessions, Diamond, Hanson, Thompson, Thomson, Barber, Porter, Harris (etc etc)  -  many of them with Philadelphia connections, are completely absent.  (More on this in a future post, perhaps.)

By far the most challenging concert will be the one conducted by Simon Rattle – Webern (Passacaglia), Berg (Three Fragments from Wozzeck), Ligeti (Mysteries of the Macabre), and Beethoven (Symphony #6).

Overall, a relatively conservative season.  I suppose that’s to be expected, since they’re trying to capitalize on YSN’s approachability.  I’m more interested in seeing what the 2013-14 season will be like.  That will give us a better sense of how innovative YSN can be.

And they don’t have the traditional formal pose of the orchestra – the shot taken about 40 feet away with everyone standing at attention, in full dress.  Here’s the only picture of the whole orchestra:

This was taken from the Conductor’s Circle (the seats behind the orchestra) at the end of a concert. (One of the things that Yannick has started this season is that at the end of the concert the musicians turn around and acknowledge the applause of the audience behind them.)

Notice that you can see a few audience members in the foreground.  And while the orchestra is in formal dress, note the expressions on their faces – most of them are smiling!  And you can even see the instrument cases for some of the wind players.

Good work, Marketing Dept.  You’re finally starting to “get it.”

Next time, a closer look at the actual music they’ve programmed for next season.

Pretty good visual pun.  It reminds me of the old Westminster Gold LPs of the 60s/70s, where they almost always had some kind of interesting (and sometimes a bit racy) visual comment on the album’s music.  You can see some of them here:  http://www.westminstergold.com/

That seems like a pretty straightforward statement, certainly considering typical consumer products that get obsoleted by newer technology or just lose their usefulness. But substitute “concert music” (or visual art, or dance, or any of the more intellectual arts) for “widget” and the statement suddenly gets controversial. How many times have we been given the truism about the “aging classical music audience”? Yes, I said truism. I’ve been hearing this statement for as long as I’ve been involved in music (around 35 years now) and I’m really not convinced. Some of us get hooked on concert music at an early age. But many people come to it later in life – exactly why, I’m not sure. One possible reason is that the pop music they liked when younger isn’t satisfying anymore, and the stuff that now comes out of their radios and iPods doesn’t appeal. So they go searching for something with more intellectual and emotional heft. (More on this subject in later posts, hopefully.)

One thing is certain – the economics of our current society is making it very hard for non-profits, especially arts organizations, to keep going. At one time filling 80% of the concert hall’s seats at a typical concert wasn’t such a concern, since there were enough deep-pocketed upper-class contributors (including corporations) to keep the show going. Not so much anymore.

So marketing has become the big thing. Here in Philadelphia, this has led to some interesting things going on with the orchestra. A few years ago they started talking about “breaking the invisible curtain” that distances the performers from the listeners (in marketing-speak, the “providers” and the “consumers”). So when the musicians stand to acknowledge the applause of the audience, they turn to actually face the audience, instead of just standing at their places facing the direction their chair faces (i.e., towards the conductor’s podium). Not a bad idea, but when the group is decked out in white tie and tails, as they are most evenings, it still looks like a formidable bunch of unfriendly folks. It’s time to get rid of the formal wear, people. Notice that fewer conductors are going with the tails? Black pants and black tunic seems to be the latest in conductor-wear, including for the increasingly visible female conductors. I’m not suggesting they go to jeans and sneakers, but a more relaxed dress would help reduce the intimidation that the concert audience newbie probably feels. Did you ever notice that hardly anyone in the audience is in suit and tie anymore?

Someone in the Philadelphia Orchestra’s marketing department seems to understand this, at least with their publicity for the incoming Music Director, Yannick Nezet-Seguin (“YNS”). A young, personable French-Canadian, they’re going out of their way to present him as a friendly, likable, approachable guy. Even the banners on the light poles near the Kimmel Center tell a different story from the last time a new Music Director came in. Ten years ago, the pictures of Christoph Eschenbach usually showed him staring directly at the viewer with an impenetrable, defiant look. Black tunic, bald head, unsmiling, baton held straight up, with his full name in bold sans-serif. What’s the message there? “You will come to the orchestra, and you will like it”? (A friend with no interest in concert music asked me “why are they putting up pictures of Colonel Klink on Broad Street?”)

The new banners have a close-up image of a smiling YNS conducting in an open shirt and jacket, no tie. And the only type is the orchestra’s current logo (a P that I guess is supposed to resemble music typography, but really just looks silly and amateurish) and “Yannick”.

Hopefully, the message “he’s having a good time at the orchestra, you will too” is coming across. I think it’s a step in the right direction.

You’ve no doubt heard the oft quoted line “writing about music is like dancing about architecture,” attributed to Laurie Anderson, Martin Mull (!), and many others. (See http://quoteinvestigator.com/2010/11/08/writing-about-music/ for an interesting discussion of the origins of this quote.)

The whole issue of writing about music is, admittedly, a little strange. The point of music is to communicate something that can’t be talked about. Composer Ellen Zwillich once said “if I could explain it in words, I wouldn’t have to write music.” I certainly agree with this. But if we want to understand how and why a particular piece of music came to be written, if we want to probe deeper into what music “means” (and, for that matter, what we mean by “what music ‘means’”) we have to resort to words.

In a way, it’s like talking about God. We’re not capable of really understanding what God is; Maimonides says we can only talk about what God isn’t. And at some point, words fail us.

But words are all we have. So, let’s use them, while always remembering the words of Peter Schickele – “it don’t mean a thing if it ain’t got that je ne sais pas.”