Category: Daily Dispatch

  • Yo-Yo Ma at 70 a Musical Legend

    Yo-Yo Ma at 70 a Musical Legend

    The years, they do fly by. How can Yo-Yo Ma be 70? It seems only yesterday we were celebrating his 60th birthday.

    Arguably the most visible and charismatic cellist of his generation, Ma was born on October 7, 1955. He’s recorded more than 90 albums and been recognized with 19 Grammy Awards. In addition, among innumerable other honors, he has been the recipient of the National Medal of the Arts and the Presidential Medal of Freedom. As recently as 2020, he was included in Time Magazine’s “100 Most Influential People.”

    Ma began playing cello at the age of 4. That’s when he “put away childish things” – that is to say, a juvenile pursuit of the violin, viola, and piano! At 5, he began performing in public, and at 7, played for Presidents Dwight D. Eisenhower and John F. Kennedy. At 8, he was introduced to American television audiences courtesy of Leonard Bernstein. The next year, Isaac Stern brought him along to “The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson.”

    This was all before Ma attended Juilliard, where he studied with Leonard Rose. He dropped out of Columbia – only to attend Harvard. He spent four summers at the Marlboro Music Festival, where he played under the direction of legendary cellist and conductor Pablo Casals. He’s been friends with Emanuel Ax, a regular chamber music partner, since their student days.

    Ma has long been acclaimed for his interpretations of the Bach Cello Suites, chamber music by Beethoven and Brahms, and most of the major concertos for cello and orchestra. However, his first commercial recording, believe it or not, was of the Cello Concerto by English composer Gerald Finzi. Ma recorded the piece while in his early 20s, with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by Vernon Handley.

    Later, having conquered the classical concert hall and established his mastery of the standard repertoire, Ma proved increasingly restless and exploratory, with forays into Baroque music on period instruments, American bluegrass, Argentinean tango, improvisatory duets with Bobby McFerrin, and several musical journeys along the Silk Road.

    He’s also been active in film, contributing to the soundtracks of “Seven Years in Tibet” and “Memoirs of a Geisha” for John Williams and “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon” (the recipient of an Academy Award for Best Original Score) for Tan Dun. And of course his album of arrangements of Ennio Morricone themes sold faster than a tray full of cannoli.

    Ma’s friendship with Williams also yielded a cello concerto, which they first recorded together in 1994. My most recent Ma acquisition is his recording of the concerto in its revised version, released on Sony Classical in 2022, and of course it’s wonderful. However, the earlier release has an alluring bonus in Williams’ “Elegy,” reworked from material originally conceived for “Seven Years in Tibet” – six transporting minutes of unalloyed loveliness.

    Ma is one of classical music’s last media celebrities, whether introducing kids to the cello on PBS’ “Arthur,” “Sesame Street,” or “Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood,” or playing Bach in support of dancer Misty Copeland and sitting in with the band on “The Late Show with Stephen Colbert.”

    I’ve been privileged to see him in concert several times. Last season, he was in Princeton at McCarter Theatre for a conversation with PBS NewsHour correspondent Jeffrey Brown. His love for music is such that it is not unusual for him to return after intermission, following a star turn in a big concerto, to modestly sit in with the rest of the cello section and play as a rank-and-file musician on the concert’s second half.

    All in all, I suspect he’s a really good guy. In fact, I’m sure he is. Happy birthday, and thanks for everything, Yo-Yo Ma!


    John Williams’ “Elegy”

    On Colbert with Misty Copeland

    At the age of 7, presented by Leonard Bernstein

    “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon”

    Ma with saxophonist Joshua Redman, playing “Crazy Bus” on “Arthur”

    On “Sesame Street”

    Gerald Finzi’s Cello Concerto

    Bach, Suite No. 1 for Unaccompanied Cello

  • Jane Goodall Good for All

    Jane Goodall Good for All

    If you have Netflix and you haven’t watched this yet, you should. It’s 55 minutes very well spent. The interview was recorded with the specific intention to offer it for streaming after Jane Goodall’s death.

    There are few surprises – she was a genuinely good person, and a wise one – but she’s magnetic in her serenity and honesty and insight. In particular, her true last words, after the interviewer gets up and leaves the room at the end and she’s left alone with the remotely-operated cameras, are important for everyone to hear. I don’t care what political axe you may have to grind, if any. If you aren’t touched by her humanity, I am sorry for you.

    I’ve refrained from saying anything about her death, because it’s outside the arts and not really in my wheelhouse – but it is, really, since her mission was always a holistic one and what happens to any of us affects all of us, human or animal.

    Don’t react to anything you may have read in the press or on social media about what she says in the interview. There’s too much tendency in the modern world to have kneejerk reactions to soundbites. Real life isn’t tabloid news, and Jane encourages us to really listen to one another. I hope you will watch and listen and really take it all in.

    There’s no questioning that hers was a life well-lived. I hope her vision of what the Hereafter may hold for her spirit has come to pass. If anyone has earned it, she has.


    Just a clip from “Famous Last Words: Dr. Jane Goodall”:

    On Netflix here:

    https://www.netflix.com/title/82053197

  • Kavalier & Clay Opera: Chabon’s Szymanowski Secret

    Kavalier & Clay Opera: Chabon’s Szymanowski Secret

    I’ve been rereading “The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Klay” to refresh my memory, in advance of checking out Mason Bates’ new opera at the Met this week. A little while ago, I watched an unrelated interview with the book’s author, Pulitzer Prize winner Michael Chabon, who straddles the worlds of “serious” and pop cultural fiction (i.e. comic books, the pulps, genre pastiche) with the authority of a literary colossus. The interview was geared toward young readers, and one of the things he recommended was making an effort to read outside one’s comfort zone. By that, he means not only reading about subjects to which one wouldn’t ordinarily gravitate, but also getting to know different characters by writers who come from diverse backgrounds, as it can really expand one’s understanding and empathy for other perspectives. It’s clear that Chabon practices what he preaches, as it’s the only explanation for the richness of the world he creates and recalls in “Kavalier & Clay” (much of the book is set during the Great Depression and World War II) and the realistic characters who occupy it.

    For instance, I don’t know what kind of music Chabon enjoys, but clearly he’s an intellectual omnivore. His curiosity about the classics may not extend very deeply into opera (the premiere of “Kavalier & Klay” was the first time he ever set foot in the Met), but it drove him far enough beyond Bach and Beethoven to turn up no less than Karol Szymanowski. Szymanowski, one of Poland’s foremost composers, was born on this date (according to some sources) in 1882. Szymanowski is referenced multiple times throughout “Kavalier & Clay,” and I’m not entirely sure why. It could just be that the author enjoys his music, or perhaps he simply likes the sound of his name (Shim-an-OFF-ski). Or it could be that he is trying to demonstrate, as he lets drop several times throughout the narrative, that many of these characters who are caught up in the pulp, comic, and novelty business are actually very talented people, immigrants who perhaps abandoned their higher aspirations when they settled in the United States and determined to improve their lot. Which would explain why long-suffering publisher Sheldon Anapol is a member of the Szymanowski Society.

    Later in the book, Szymanowski is not mentioned by name when we are told that a portrait of the composer of “Songs of an Infatuated Muezzin” hangs on the wall behind his desk. Holy moly, Chabon! “Songs of an Infatuated Muezzin” isn’t even one of Szymanowski’s better-known works! I wonder if, thematically, the author might also have found the subject matter – a Muslim holy man who, in the execution of his sacred duty to call the faithful to prayer five times a day, finds himself increasingly distracted by erotic thoughts of his beloved – apposite to the situation of one of Chabon’s protagonists, Joe Kavalier, who succumbs to his guilt over the distraction from his primary mission, to get his family out of Nazi-occupied Czechoslovakia. In the meantime, he’s been engaged in a serious affair. Two affairs, actually – one with a free-spirited Greenwich Village bohemian and another, his artistic devotion to comic books – and the reader wonders which passion outstrips the other. In his way, he too is distracted from his sacred duty by a beguiling mistress.

    I don’t know that Chabon had this in mind, but the parallel is there. Or, as I say, it could be that he just likes the music.

    Looking forward to “Kavalier & Clay.” Also, happy birthday, Karol Szymanowski!


    “Songs of an Infatuated Muezzin”

    “The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay” at the Met

    https://www.metopera.org/season/2025-26-season/the-amazing-adventures-of-kavalier–clay/

    Szymanowski’s Violin Concerto No. 2, recorded by Henryk Szeryng

    Michael Chabon interview geared to young readers


    CLOCKWISE FROM LEFT: The novel, a still from the opera, and Karol Szymanowski

  • Einstein’s Unexpected Music Taste at Princeton

    Einstein’s Unexpected Music Taste at Princeton

    Yesterday, I had folks in from out of town and took them over to see Einstein’s furniture at Updike Farm on Quaker Road. Since 2004, the property has been owned by the Historical Society of Princeton.

    I’d been there before, but yesterday was the first time I thought to lean in and take note of what was on Einstein’s turntable. By squinting, I could just about make out Eugene Ormandy and the Philadelphia Orchestra, but it was only by taking a photo, flipping it, and enlarging that I could make out the music: William Schuman’s Symphony No. 3! A most bizarre selection as, despite his friendship with Bohuslav Martinů and association with Arnold Schoenberg, from everything I’ve heard, Einstein was not really a contemporary music guy. He was all about the meat-and-potato classics. (He loved Haydn and Mozart.)

    If this record was indeed from Einstein’s personal collection, it was a very interesting choice, making more of an impression on me than E = mc². But I am the first to admit, as a classical music lover at the science fair, I tend to look at things a little differently.

    More than likely, someone who didn’t know William Schuman from Robert Schumann had selected it – if he or she even knew who Schumann was. I like to think the record was actually from Einstein’s collection and not just something from the period that somebody picked up at a yard sale. The docent, while friendly and attentive, didn’t seem to know anything about it. But I’m used to that.

    In the same room, as part of an Innovators Gallery, there’s also some material on Freeman Dyson, one of Einstein’s colleagues at Princeton’s Institute for Advanced Study, who also happened to be the son of eminent English composer Sir George Dyson. Again, I appeared to be the only one with much interest in the connection (neither was it noted, that I could see, in the literature).

    In his day, William Schumann was recognized as one of our great American symphonists. In particular, his Symphony No. 3 of 1941 was held up, alongside the corresponding symphonies of Roy Harris and Aaron Copland, as among the best this country had to offer. Schuman won the Pulitzer Prize for Music in 1943, became president of the Juilliard School in 1945, and president of Lincoln Center in 1961.

    By coincidence, he was a student of Roy Harris, whose Symphony No. 3 is being performed this afternoon by the Princeton University Orchestra. The concert, a repeat of last night’s program, will be held at Princeton University’s Richardson Auditorium at 3:00. Also on the program will be Hector Berlioz’s “Symphonie fantastique.” Be there, or be square.

    For tickets, visit

    https://tickets.princeton.edu/

    Discover Albert Einstein at Updike Farmstead

    Discover Albert Einstein

    Ormandy conducts William Schuman’s Symphony No. 3

    Article I wrote about Einstein’s musical activities and enthusiasms

    https://www.communitynews.org/princetoninfo/artsandentertainment/relatively-musical-albert-einstein-and-bohuslav-martin/article_68a1ba00-fe7d-11ef-a05a-2f8ce43f2de6.html

  • Swiss Missed Forgotten Music from Switzerland

    Swiss Missed Forgotten Music from Switzerland

    Enough with the jokes about alphorns and cuckoo clocks! This week on “The Lost Chord,” it’s forgotten music from Switzerland.

    Ernest Bloch, best known for his music on Jewish themes (such as his Hebraic rhapsody “Schelomo”), actually spent most of his life in the United States. He died in Portland, OR, in 1959, at the age of 78.

    50 years earlier, while still in Switzerland, he composed his song cycle “Poèmes d’automne.” At the time, he was at work on his opera, “Macbeth,” but he was sidelined when he made the acquaintance of a young poet by the name of Beatrix Rodès. He fell instantly in love with her, and set four of her poems within two months. Rodès would eventually become his mistress, though in the end Bloch chose to remain with his wife. It’s said that the texts, even in the original French, are of dubious literary quality.

    The composer arranged them to form a kind of progression, in which a woman passes from sadness and desolation, to peace and love, to lamentation for the passing of her beauty, to an air of serenity as she becomes a priestess.

    Okay, so it’s not his strongest work, but it is seasonal and interesting to listen to.

    Hans Huber, who lived from 1852 to 1921, was the composer of nine symphonies (of which he acknowledged eight), five operas, and a number of concertos for various instruments. His four concertos for piano are somewhat unusual in that, like Brahms’ experiments in the form, they are made up of four movements, with the addition of a scherzo, as opposed to the customary three.

    The Piano Concerto No. 3 first appeared on a concert in Basel, in February of 1899, which also included Beethoven’s “Leonore Overture No. 3” and Berlioz’s “Harold in Italy.”

    The concerto is also unusual, for, among other things, anticipating in the first movement the theme from the work’s finale as the underpinnings of a passacaglia.

    I hope you’ll join me for an hour of forgotten music from Switzerland – “Swiss Missed” – on The Lost Chord, now in syndication on KWAX, the radio station of the University of Oregon!


    Clip and save the start times for all three of my recorded shows:

    PICTURE PERFECT, the movie music show – Friday at 8:00 PM EDT/5:00 PM PDT

    SWEETNESS AND LIGHT, the light music program – Saturday at 11:00 AM EDT/8:00 AM PDT

    THE LOST CHORD, unusual and neglected rep – Saturday at 7:00 PM EDT/4:00 PM PDT

    Stream them, wherever you are, at the link!

    https://kwax.uoregon.edu/

Tag Cloud

Aaron Copland (92) Beethoven (95) Composer (114) Film Music (124) Film Score (143) Film Scores (255) Halloween (94) John Williams (188) KWAX (229) Leonard Bernstein (101) Marlboro Music Festival (125) Movie Music (139) Opera (202) Philadelphia Orchestra (89) Picture Perfect (174) Princeton Symphony Orchestra (106) Radio (87) Ralph Vaughan Williams (85) Ross Amico (244) Roy's Tie-Dye Sci-Fi Corner (290) The Classical Network (101) The Lost Chord (268) Vaughan Williams (103) WPRB (396) WWFM (881)

DON’T MISS A BEAT

Receive a weekly digest every Sunday at noon by signing up here


RECENT POSTS