Thursday 28 May 2020

Live Performances During Covid-19 -- Part 2

As we know, all over the world, the live performing arts have been shut down by the global battle against the Covid-19 virus.  But the world's determined musical artists can't be kept down for long, and the internet is full of intriguing solutions to the problems of live ensemble performance during the age of social distancing.  
Although the technical ingenuity involved is considerable, and sometimes rises to the level of outright genius, it's the artistic quality that's so stunning in these performances, given under far less than ideal acoustic conditions and with ensembles having to blend together in spite of the fact that they are not physically gathered in a single space.
No less fine are solo performances of all kinds, where the unfavourable acoustics of the average living room do not in any way hamper the quality of the music making.
My first post in this series involved some complex and sophisticated music.  Today, by chance or design, I have a collection of much simpler, but no less delightful, online performances to share with you.  At the end, I branch out from the musical world into the sphere of dance with a truly unusual example of the live arts not just in performance, but in development, under these difficult conditions.


Simplicity is a Gift

Somehow, I missed this beautiful online hybrid performance when I was compiling my first post of live arts during the pandemic.  But here we go, better late than never.

This recording was prepared almost 2 months ago, in the early phases of the lockdown, by a group of musicians from the Toronto Symphony Orchestra.  The music they're playing is the lovely "Simple Gifts" segment from Aaron Copland's ballet, Appalachian Spring, one of the most lyrical and invigorating scores in American music of the 20th century.  In the manner that has been adopted by many performers, the different instrumentalists each appear in their own separate window on the screen, playing of course from their various homes.

There's not a lot more that needs to be said.  Listen, and delight in this fine performance of Copland's simply beautiful and inspired treatment of the traditional Shaker melody.



Swan Song

What do you get when you cross a swan with 24 cellists?  As you might well guess, you get The Swan from Camille Saint-Saens' Carnival of the Animals.  But no, this is not a travesty or mockery of the beautiful, simple, lyrical spirit of the original.  As the piano accompaniment plays, the melody passes from cellist to cellist at each phrase.  The cellists are physically located, in isolation, all over the planet.  As each one in turn appears on the screen, the video clip is accompanied by a title showing their places of residence.

On the final sustained cello note, all 24 players appear at once, followed by a parallel screen showing all 24 of their names.  It's a pity that the pianist was not also shown, although credited by name.  A lovely inspiration, deviating from the composer's text only in incorporating a repeat of the entire melody from start to finish to accommodate all the musicians.  As the final title on screen says, "Music transcends all borders."



Reverent Simplicity 

The King's Singers are a group of men who are all former members of the renowned Choir of King's College, Cambridge, in England.   The six voices in the group have changed over the years and none of the original founders from the 1960s remain, but the composition of the ensemble has remained constant -- 2 counter-tenors, a tenor, a bass, and 2 baritones.  They sing a cappella and in an astonishing diversity of musical styles.

For this ensemble number, the Singers have gone back to Thomas Tallis.  But instead of the soaring, intertwining complexity of lines which we heard with Spem in alium (in the previous blog post), this time we have the austere, chordal simplicity of one of the master's English anthems, If Ye Love Me.  

This dramatic switch in styles is readily understood when we know that Tallis worked under, and composed for, no less than four successive English monarchs:  Henry VIII, who veered from Roman Catholicism to Protestantism, Edward VI (more Protestant than his father), Mary (staunchly Catholic), and Elizabeth (back to Protestantism).  Throughout all this political-religious turmoil, Tallis remained himself staunchly Catholic.  But he also displayed the undoubted gift of being able to tailor his music to the needs of the monarch of the moment, a shrewd survival strategy.

If Ye Love Me is a classic example of his "Protestant" style: the text is drawn from the English Bible, the music is straightforward and predominantly chordal in style, and the harmonies are clear and unmistakable at all times.  The more ornate Spem in alium would only be suitable for a Roman Catholic service, with its intricately interwoven parts and Latin text.

The six voices of the King's Singer's give a pure-toned, well-blended account of this piece, bringing to its apparent simplicity a sense of purpose and a feeling for the words that make it very much more than just a run-through.  The visual of the six singers lies across the bottom of the screen, with the score of the anthem displayed page by page above them.  I appreciated that touch, and definitely enjoyed singing along!



Thankful Ode to Joy 

All right, I admit that the "simplicity" theme breaks down a bit here.  But who wouldn't love a socially-distance performance of an excerpt from Beethoven's heaven-storming Ninth "Choral" Symphony?  In this brief video, we hear a quick verbal introduction naming the performance as a tribute to the McGill Symphony Orchestra's long-serving maestro, Alexis Hauser.  The introductory remarks by conductor Yaniv Attar are followed by a series of brief video clips in which a number of the musicians simply and sincerely say "thank you" to the maestro.

The performance involves over 40 musicians in all, alumni of this illustrious university orchestra, including 38 instrumentalists, with 4 vocal soloists.  What we hear is the first few orchestral variations on the "Joy" theme, beginning with the cellos and double basses, and then we leap ahead to the climactic choral variation which occurs before the slower "Seid umschlungen" section.  There's a noticeable tempo shift at that leap ahead, only momentarily disconcerting.  The musical excerpt ends with the suspended chord which concludes that portion of the choral finale.

Considering the improvised conditions of this kind of performance, the results are such that I think the master himself would have approved.

The visual portion groups the individual images of the players together into sections, highlighting one section of the orchestra at a time until the vocal entry, at which point the entire ensemble appears on the screen, with the conductor at the bottom centre, and the players grouped around him in the familiar orchestral layout: violins to left and right, violas, cellos and basses behind them, woodwinds and brasses further up, and the singers in the top row -- very ingenious!


Behind the Creative Doors

And now for something completely different.  Gauthier Dance Theaterhaus Stuttgart, in Germany, has presented a video of a new dance work, entitled re:connection, in the process of being created during this pandemic.  The piece was originally to have premiered at the end of March.  The rules in Germany have been adjusted enough that the two dancers, choreographer, and videographer are able to convene together in the studio with appropriate distancing.  In this clip, you get a rare look behind the scenes at the art of dancemaking, with choreographer and dancers talking about their work.  It's a kind of sharing of the creative process that many people in the dance world in particular are reluctant to open to outsiders.

Conflict of Interest Alert:  The choreographer is my nephew, Robert Stephen, 
and the videographer is my nephew-in-law, Michael Murphy.



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