Chicago Cultural Center

Narek Hakhnazaryan (cello) and Noreen Cassidy-Polera (piano) – Chicago Cultural Center – February 21, 2018

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Narek and Noreen beautifully played several selections, including one by Robert Schumann, who, according to the program, lived to be 146 years old (1810-1956). Although I know that listening to music is said to provide numerous health benefits, I was pretty sure that his date of death was a typo (it should have been 1856).

Of the Dame Myra Hess concerts I have attended, this was the first time a pianist had a page-turner. (I guess the previous musicians had better memories.) I noted that the page-turner sat on the pianist’s left (upstage, not blocking the audience’s view) and used his left hand, crossing over his body, to accomplish his task. For those looking for a “nerve-wracking” way to see concerts for free, I recommend reading a blog about the fine art of page-turning, which says that the left hand should be used (why?), but shows a picture of someone using her right hand (if I know my left from my right).

Narrow and Noreen (but not the unknown, uncredited, unappreciated(?) page-turner) briefly left the stage after each of the first two pieces. Is this to milk more applause? Or stretch legs? Or clear heads? Or make sure flies aren’t open? (see my blog on Franklinland)

As the music proceeded, I gazed around the room and made note of the famous names carved into the ceiling arches, which included Shakspere (sic – spell check fought me on this one). According to Wikipedia, “(I)n the Romantic and Victorian eras the spelling “Shakspere”, as used in the poet’s own signature, became more widely adopted in the belief that this was the most authentic version.” So why did it get changed after that? Four hundred years from now will historians change the spelling of my name? (This assumes that someday I will be known as the Bard of Blog.)

Jasmin Arakawa – Chicago Cultural Center – February 14, 2018

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In case you haven’t noticed, each time I go to one of the Dame Myra Hess Memorial Concerts I try to focus on something different, in addition to the music. This week, I’d like to report that Preston Bradley Hall was adorned with Mardi Gras decorations, but, alas, it was not.

I was sitting stage left. The piano is always set up so that the pianist is facing that direction, something I hadn’t thought about before (I must have been preoccupied with world peace or quantum theory), but which makes obvious sense (doh) given the construction of a grand piano (not really an issue with my digital keyboard).

With that weight lifted from my mind, I reflected on the advantages of sitting stage left. Sure, I couldn’t see Ms. Arakawa’s hands move rapidly and flawlessly across the keys, but, because so many others wanted that experience, I had a greater choice of seats on my side, was able to sit on an aisle, with no one next to me, and, in the middle of this horrible flu season, had fewer people around me coughing (I didn’t bring a flu mask, though I spotted someone else wearing one).

When Ms. Arakawa walked out at the beginning of the concert, she just sat down and started playing. Pianists, unlike musicians playing other instruments, don’t fiddle on stage with strings (that would be amusing – I wonder if Victor Borge ever did it) or wait for someone with an oboe in the audience to give them an A (I looked, but didn’t spot one).

She played some Liszt, Haydn and a couple other dead guys I never heard of before (Mompou and Francaix). Francaix was quoted in the program as having quoted French writer Nicolas Chamfort in saying: “When on the stage, if you are a little of a charlatan, the crowd will lapidate you.” I’m happy to report that Ms. Arakawa was not lapidated at any time during her performance.

Akropolis Reed Quintet – Chicago Cultural Center – Feb. 7, 2018

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I’m of the generation of men whose parents told them to tuck their shirts into their pants. A bass clarinet makes me think of someone who doesn’t. It seems to hang too long and not neatly tucked in like a soprano clarinet. In any event, both types of clarinets, an oboe, a bassoon, and a saxophone comprise the five instruments played by the members of the Akropolis Reed Quintet at this week’s Dame Myra Hess Memorial Concert at the Chicago Cultural Center.

After the first selection, I watched as the musicians dried the insides of their instruments by pulling swabs through the bores. It reminded me of a magician apparently pulling streams of cloth out of his mouth, only these swabs were black and one-piece, not multicolored and knotted together. Also, the musicians didn’t say “tada” when they were done, though they may have been thinking it as they finished with a flourish. Fortunately for the audience, the musicians were deft not only at drying their instruments, but also at playing them. I played the trumpet briefly and badly as a preteen. I now wonder if the problem was that I just wasn’t good enough at emptying out the spit valve. Yes, that must have been it.

The musical highlight of the concert was the group’s rendition of An American in Paris. Although I loved the music, it reminded me of how much I didn’t like the play when I saw it last year. Also, I wondered whether a French composer had ever written about being in America? Well, it turns out that the French composer Darius Milhaud was commissioned by Arthur Fiedler and the Boston Pops Orchestra in the 1960s to write a companion piece for An American in Paris, and thus composed A Frenchman in New York. See, it wasn’t such a stupid question.

 

Vijay Venkatesh – Dame Myra Hess Concert – Chicago Cultural Center – January 17, 2018

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I started taking piano lessons a year ago. I have no illusions about my current or potential talent levels, but I enjoy the process and the sounds that I urge out of the keys that occasionally resemble music.  I also really enjoy listening to someone good.

The Chicago Cultural Center hosts Dame Myra Hess Concerts every Wednesday from 12:15-1:00. This week Vijay Venkatesh played Liszt and Beethoven on the piano, and brought forth tones that doesn’t exist on my digital keyboard. And, though his hands were occasionally moving at lightning speed, I’m pretty sure that he played all 88 keys at least once during Liszt’s Hungarian Rhapsody No. 12. So the hundreds of us in attendance would have gotten our money’s worth even if we had paid something to get in.

There was a woman in the front row who, at first glance, seemed to be taking notes, perhaps for a review, I mean a real one, not like what you read on my blog. But as I shifted in my seat, I realized I was wrong, she wasn’t writing, but rather sketching the pianist at work. I don’t take notes for my blog. I feel that it would distract from my enjoyment of the event and hinder my ability to observe all that is going on around me. And I can’t read my handwriting.

Vijay deservedly (I think) received a standing ovation at the conclusion of his work, but these days it seems that everyone gets one, and thus it has lost its significance. I wonder if performers know that sometimes we stand just because the people in front of us (who might be friends and family of the performers) stood up and we can’t see if we stay seated, or we just want to stretch our legs, or we just want to beat the crowd out the door.

Please fight the urge to give this blog a standing ovation, as I’ve already left the room.