Today is the birthday of Mexico’s multitalented Carlos Chávez. I just wrote about Chávez last month, in relation to a set of his complete recordings made for Columbia Records, now reissued on Sony Classical. Gringo that I am, I posted about it on Cinco de Mayo, a holiday that I understand is a much bigger deal here than it is in Mexico. Anyway, here again are my thoughts, if you’re interested. (More below.)
In posting about the set, I remark upon Chávez’s late, atonal, wholly wackadoodle, but undeniably fascinating ballet “Pirámide” (1968). But in doing so, I neglect to mention his earlier, indigenous ballet, “Los Cuatro Soles” (“The Four Suns”), from 1925. The latter treats another “primitivist” subject (all the rage after Stravinsky’s “The Rite of Spring”), with four catastrophes ending a different epoch (symbolized by each of the four suns) in the history of the Nahua people. Listen to that drum at 10:23!
Poised somewhere between the artifice of Stravinsky and the spirit of Villa-Lobos, the work is unmistakably Chávez. It’s not going to make anybody’s hit parade, but you can tell it’s the same guy who went on to write “Sinfonía India” (1935-36).
And as I noted before, the latter work pointed the way for Aaron Copland’s western ballets. Copland was at work on “El Salón México” at the same time. Chávez would conduct the world premiere of Copland’s watershed piece in Mexico City. He also gave the first performance of Copland’s “Short Symphony,” after it was declared unplayable (because of its complexity) by Leopold Stokowski, Serge Koussevitzky, and others.
Chávez was an important musician in so many ways. Without him, art music in the United States might have developed very differently.
You’ll find links to “Sinfonía India” and ““Pirámide” at the bottom of my original post.
If you can look past the ethnic stereotypes and the white actors playing Indians, Chinese, Latinos, and just about everyone else (with the exceptions of Sammy Davis Jr. and Richard Pryor), there’s still much to enjoy in “The Wild Wild West.” Not the execrable movie from 1999, starring Will Smith, Kevin Kline, and Kenneth Branagh, but the classic television series with Robert Conrad and Ross Martin that ran for four seasons on CBS, from 1965 to 1969 – before finally being tossed under the stagecoach by the network for being “too violent.” My, how times have changed.
A canny marriage of the western, a genre which, by the mid-‘60s, was honestly approaching oversaturation, and the spy-fi craze, sparked by the success of James Bond, “The Wild Wild West” depicts the exploits and derring-do of secret service agents during the Grant administration.
Each week, James T. West (Conrad) faces off against an outlandish, Bondian villain of megalomaniacal ambition – he or she often keen to control large swathes of the United States and its territories, if not the world – and, aided by borderline implausible gadgetry fabricated by his sidekick, master-of-disguise Artemus Gordon (Martin, on their tricked-out train), brings said villain to justice, or death, as the case may be.
Roy and I will be tipping the brims of our Stetsons to the series on June 21 with a conversation as rambling as the great American West, on the next Roy’s Tie-Dye Sci-Fi Corner.
Despite its television budget, with its obviously redressed sets and frugal, but cleverly deployed, studio orchestra on the soundtrack, “The Wild Wild West” is unabashed entertainment in the old style – formulaic, with recognizable guest stars (too many to list, but I’ll single out Michael Dunn, magnetic in every scene he’s in as West’s recurring, diminutive nemesis, Miguelito Loveless – in early installments accompanied by future Bond villain Richard Kiel), and clear dramatic beats always cresting just before a commercial break. I remember watching this in reruns with my grandparents on a Sunday afternoon.
The series only got better the bolder it went, with serial thrills of a type we now associate with Indiana Jones and crazy sci-fi conceits, such as invisibility, miniaturization, and the psychic force of disembodied human brains.
I’ll be rather disembodied myself, I’m sure, when we talk about “The Wild Wild West,” on “Roy’s Tie-Dye Sci-Fi Corner.” Bring your harmonicas and bass guitars to the comments section. We’ll be performing all our own stunts – shirtless too – just like Robert Conrad, when we livestream on Facebook, YouTube, etc., next Friday evening, June 21, at 7:00 EDT!
[** PLEASE NOTE: This conversation was originally scheduled to take place tomorrow night, but I just learned there is a major technical snafu that needs to be addressed, so regrettably it will have to be postponed until next Friday. I’ve edited this post to reflect this eleventh-hour, revolting development. Thank you for your patience. On the bright side, this will give you more time to watch “The Wild Wild West!” **]
A wager on the inconstancy of young love leads to farcical complications in Mozart’s “Così fan tutte.” The title has always been as uncomfortable to translate as the comic anguish endured by its leads. Variously known in English (if at all) as “So Do They All” and “Women Are Like That,” it’s probably best to stick with the Italian. Whatever you call it, it is generally bracketed in the composer’s top-four operas. Unsurprisingly the libretti for three of them were quilled by the flamboyant Lorenzo da Ponte, poet, priest, and profligate, friend of Casanova, and eventually professor of Italian literature at Columbia University.
The opera forms the centerpiece of this year’s The Princeton Festival. You’ll have three chances to see it, on Friday at 7 p.m., Sunday at 4 p.m., and Tuesday at 7 p.m. Performances will be held outdoors in the open-flapped, state-of-the-art performance pavilion on the grounds of historic Morven Museum & Garden, at 55 Stockton St. (Route 206).
The stage direction is by James Marvel, who, with a game cast and scenic design by Blair Mielnik, ensured last year’s production of Rossini’s “The Barber of Seville” was such an imaginative romp. This year, the team promises a fresh, contemporary take on “Così,” setting it in a pastel-colored dreamhouse villa, high above the glamorous Amalfi Coast. Attired by costume designer Maria Miller, the high-styled, jet-setting characters’ loyalty to one another is tested as the plot – and hilarity – unfolds.
The opera will be sung in Italian with English subtitles. The Princeton Symphony Orchestra will be conducted by its music director, Rossen Milanov.
Two pre-performance talks, “Not So Cozy Così,” with Julian Grant (on Friday), and “Exploring Così fan tutte,” with Timothy Urban (on Tuesday), will be offered at Morven’s Stockton Education Center at 5:30 p.m.
Also coming up: the Abeo Quartet will perform chamber music by Reena Esmail, Shostakovich, and Schubert, tomorrow, Thursday, at 7 p.m., across the road at Trinity Church Princeton (33 Mercer St.).
American Repertory Ballet will bring dance to the pavilion, with choreography by Arthur Mitchell and Meredith Rainey, and Milanov conducting members of the PSO in music by Philip Glass (“Quartetsatz”), Miranda Scripp (“Intrare Forma”), Jean Sibelius (“Impromptu for Strings”), and Edvard Grieg (the “Holberg Suite”), on Saturday at 7 p.m.
Wednesday, June 19, will be a big day, with a program of Black choral music, featuring the Capital Singers of Trenton and friends, under the direction of Westminster Choir College’s Vinroy D. Brown, providing the capstone to a Juneteenth celebration. The program will include Robert Ray’s “Gospel Mass.” The concert will be held at the performance pavilion at 7 p.m.
A Juneteenth flag raising ceremony will take place next door, at the Municipality of Princeton, at 1 p.m. The festival will continue at Morven at 4 p.m., with plenty of food, reflection, and fun, leading up to the choral concert.
On Thursday, June 20, The Sebastians will return to Trinity Church Princeton for a program of Baroque favorites, with a selection of Bach’s Brandenburg Concertos offered, cheek-by-jowl, with works by Telemann and Vivaldi.
The Juilliard-trained, genre-defying trio Empire Wild will electrify the pavilion with its signature mix of original music, inventive covers, and twists on the classical canon, on Friday, June 21, at 7 p.m.
Finally, on Saturday, June 22, at 7 p.m., Tony Award winning Santino Fontana, star of stage (“Tootsie,” “Cinderella”), film (Disney’s “Frozen”), and television (“Crazy Ex-Girlfriend,” “The Marvelous Ms. Maisel”), will bring the festival to a lively conclusion with an evening of pops, cabaret, and Broadway, accompanied by the Princeton Symphony Orchestra, again under the performance pavilion at Morven.
For additional events, like Yoga in the Garden and the Juneteenth oral history project, as well as information on tickets, parking, and concessions, visit the Princeton Festival website, at princetonsymphony.org/festival.
CLOCKWISE FROM LEFT: “Così fan tutte,” American Repertory Ballet, Empire Wild, and Santino Fontana
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: often on significant musical anniversaries, I’ll do a search of my Facebook posts from past years, and I’ll find that I am actually intimidated by my own work. I realize it may come across as a rather conceited observation, but I offer it in all modesty. Against those times when the muse was so clearly with me, how can I possibly compete?
Such is the case on the anniversary of the birth of Richard Strauss. Just look at what I wrote in 2021.
And it’s not the only fine post I’ve written about this composer.
What’s an aging classical music fanatic to do? As the tiny demon inside me compels me to write, I offer this, as a sequel of sorts.
In his late 70s and in variable health, Strauss retreated to his vacation villa in Garmisch, in the Bavarian Alps, to wait out the remainder of the war. Garmisch, recognized for the excellence of its skiing conditions, had been the site of the 1936 Winter Olympics, which preceded by five months the notorious Summer Games mentioned in my post at the link above.
On May 1, 1945, the day after American troops occupied the town, and only a week before VE Day, jeeps rolled into Strauss’ driveway. As the largest house in town, his residence had been singled out as the optimal location for a makeshift command center. When an officer entered the house to deliver the news, the 81 year-old occupant is said to have come down the stairs and introduced himself, “I am Richard Strauss, the composer of ‘Rosenkavalier’ and ‘Salome.’”
The officer, Lt. Milton Weiss, happened to be a musician and decided to find another house.
A few hours later, a second contingent arrived. This time the squad was led by Maj. John Kramers of the 103rd Infantry Division’s military-government branch. He told the Strausses they had 15 minutes to pack up their things. A short while later, Strauss walked down the drive to Kramers’ jeep carrying two documents. One was a paper that certified Strauss as an honorary citizen of Morgantown, West Virginia. The other was the manuscript of “Der Rosenkavalier.” Strauss said, “I am Richard Strauss, the composer.”
Kramers, a Strauss fan, was stunned. After shaking the composer’s hand, he had a sign installed on the front lawn stating that the house was off limits. The Strauss house was spared, and the composer enjoyed a special status with the occupying troops.
One of these was a 24 year-old intelligence office named John de Lancie, who heard about what had transpired at the Strauss villa and determined to become a regular visitor of the composer. Before the war, de Lancie had been principal oboist with the Pittsburgh Symphony under Fritz Reiner. After the war, he would join the Philadelphia Orchestra (in 1946). Later, he became director of the Curtis Institute of Music (1977-1985). It was on one of his visits that de Lancie asked Strauss if he had ever considered writing an oboe concerto. Out of hand, the composer said no.
Six months later, after the war, de Lancie was surprised to learn Strauss had published an oboe concerto. The autograph score bore the inscription: “Oboe Concerto/1945/suggested by an American soldier.”
That Strauss had seen to it to assign him the rights of the first U.S. performance had to have been bittersweet for the oboist. Although de Lancie would one day assume the position of principal in Philadelphia, at the time, he was just a rank and file section oboist. Under orchestra protocol, he would be unable to perform as soloist, as Marcel Tabuteau (who happened to be de Lancie’s teacher) had seniority as the current principal. De Lancie therefore passed the rights on to a young oboist friend at the CBS Symphony, Mitch Miller – later of “Sing Along with Mitch” fame – who gave the concerto its American debut.
De Lancie would be promoted to principal oboist in Philadelphia in 1954 and held the position until 1977. His only public performance of the piece was when the orchestra played it for the first time, on August 30, 1964, at Michigan’s Interlochen Center for the Arts. De Lancie didn’t get around to recording it until 1987, with Max Wilcox the conductor. By then, the oboist was 65 years-old. It had been over four decades since he had planted the seed for one of Strauss’ late masterpieces.
Listen to de Lancie perform Strauss’ Oboe Concerto here:
Strauss died in Garmisch at the age of 85. And yes, de Lancie’s son, who also bore his name, appeared in many incarnations of “Star Trek.”
At 83, Strauss quipped, with humorous self-deprecation, “I may not be a first-rate composer, but I am a first-class second-rate composer.”
Along those lines, I offer, “I may not be a first-rate writer, but I am a first-class Facebook poster.”
Happy birthday, Richard Strauss.
At the link, see footage of Strauss conducting “Der Rosenkavalier” at 85, with commentary by Sir Georg Solti and narration by Sir John Gielgud. Solti conducted the work’s valedictory trio at the composer’s funeral. He recalls, “Marianne Schech sang the part of the Marschallin, Maud Cunitz was Octavian, and Gerda Sommerschuh was Sophie. One after the other, each singer broke down in tears and dropped out of the ensemble, but they recovered themselves and we all ended together.”
When most congregants attend Sunday services, they’re probably not expending a lot of thought on all the work that goes into the preparation of the music, or the broader creative lives of those who compose and arrange it.
Tim Keyes has been the pastoral assistant of music and liturgy at The Catholic Community of St. Charles Borromeo Service and Justice in Skillman, NJ, for 23 years. His latest symphony is in rehearsals – with his own ensemble, the Tim Keyes Consort – in preparation for the work’s world premiere at Princeton University’s Richardson Auditorium, on Saturday at 8 p.m.
The “Symphony in Bb: Elegy” is Keyes’ 4th symphony and the first to be scored exclusively for orchestra. The 30-minute, three-movement work is dedicated to the memory of his father and, according to the composer, “explores the grief associated with the loss of a loved one and an enduring belief in eternal life.” The timing couldn’t be better, as Sunday is Father’s Day.
The second half of the program will be devoted to the world premiere of an hour-long, 12-movement oratorio, “The Stone.” Keyes says the work is the second of a triptych, which began with his oratorio “The Well,” given its debut at Richardson in 2016. The trilogy explores scriptural stories in John’s gospel.
According to Keyes, “‘The Stone’ examines the story of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead and embraces the emotional drama between Martha, Mary and Jesus.”
The oratorio is scored for orchestra, choir and three soloists. On Saturday, it will be sung by tenor Justin Connors (Jesus), mezzo-soprano Victoria Lotkowictz (Mary), and soprano Danyelle Dellolio (Martha).
For tickets, call 609-258-5000, or visit princeton.edu/utickets.
For more information about the Tim Keyes Consort, now celebrating its 29th year, visit timkeyesconsort.org.
News about the event came in while I was down with COVID, so I couldn’t write it up for the paper, but here’s a link to an article I wrote about Keyes and the consort in 2019.
