Two Györgys
November 18th, 2009Eddie Silva is Publications Manager at Saint Louis Symphony Orchestra and blogger extraordinaire for the SLSO Blog.
Saint Louis Symphony Orchestra quintet rehearses Tuesday afternoon.
On Monday, David Robertson was in town for the SLSO’s annual board meeting and to tape an interview for his selection as the St. Louis Arts Awards honoree for “Excellence in the Arts” from the Arts & Education Council. Shortly after the interview was over, David and Eric Gaston (of the artistic dept., who, among other things, produces the Pulitzer Series) and I were chatting backstage, when David heard the sounds of Ligeti’s Ten Pieces for Wind Quintet being rehearsed in the Green Room. His eyes grew wide with excitement, and he said something about the overtones in the piece in a kind of hushed, gleeful whisper.
So with that as background, I ventured over to the Pulitzer Tuesday in the early afternoon to witness the rehearsal for György Ligeti’s Ten Pieces as well as György Kurtág’s Wind Quintet, as guest blogger for the Pulitzer Foundation for the Arts. Thanks for the invite, Amy!
In the constant drizzle I made my way to the back door of the exquisite Pulitzer building. The quintet—Jen Nitchman, flute/alto flute/piccolo; Phil Ross, oboe/oboe d’amore/English horn; Nicolas Del Grazia, clarinet (and Jen’s husband); Roger Kaza, horn; Andy Gott, bassoon—were almost all in place at the base of the grand staircase under the Ellsworth Kelly. All but Andy, who had forgotten his music. Which made Jen think of a new Beckett play: Waiting for Gott. “Nothing to be done.”
But Andy was back in place in a jiffy and the ensemble entered into the marvelous atmospherics of the Kurtág, perfect music for this day of mist and rain.
At the opening of one section, Roger plays a machine-gun burst of notes to which the rest of the ensemble enters in at various places. As you’ll hear at the concert tonight, this music is very difficult to play, to count, and to avoid, as Phil said later in the rehearsal, “stepping onto a hole.” So the quintet played the section again, and again, and again. Finally, Roger paused and informed the group, “I need to stop and take a breath.”
I hung back with the camera since I didn’t want to break the musicians’ concentration. The marvels of the music aren’t in the difficulty, but the unique musicality, especially in the acoustic of the Pulitzer space. Andy plays a part that sounds as if Kurtág is referencing The Rite of Spring, but then moves on to sounds Stravinsky would not have imagined.
As they moved deeper into the rehearsal, their vocal interaction began to open up. “That’s an awesome little doodle,” Phil said of one phrase. A lot of discussion ensued over who would cue a particular entrance. Jen was burdened with a rush of triplets and passed the duty over to Andy, who voiced the phonetic equivalent of a Kurtágian phrase: “Ah-hee-haw.”
In Ligeti’s Ten Pieces for Wind Quintet I became drawn to a low, very deep clarinet trill that Nic played on and on. This is a piece that makes the oboe/oboe d’amore/English horn player permanently red-faced throughout. At a moment that would make David Robertson wide-eyed with glee, everybody hits a high, high note. I was reminded of a joke about Joni Mitchell singing notes only your dog can hear, but Eric placed this in Ligetian terms: “These overtones are crazy!”
Phil worked over an especially tricky solo passage on the English horn. “It’s a high F,” he observed, “that’s not really a note on the horn.” He played the passage as fast as his fingers could fly, then Eric suggested he take it slower. Sounded great, following the Steely Dan rule, “Play a little slower, now.”
Eve Kozma arrived for her solo turn in Bartók’s Sonata for solo violin, but I needed to return to Powell through the drizzle as some of the musicians headed for the Central West End for the best fish taco in town.–Eddie Silva
So, I attended the SLSO Chamber Music concert Wednesday evening. It was sublime, marred by only one thing, which bothers me every time I visit the Pulitzer. Does anyone else notice the docent standing behind the musicians in the photo? Well, you can’t miss her. And he (a guy stood there Wednesday evening) is an utter distraction. Who insists that a docent stand there the entire performance? And by the way, in such a glorious space, why have the concert arranged like every other concert? Since the music is supposed to be correlated to the art, why not allow everyone to just wander around, experience the art and the music within the spaces, so to speak? After all, space is what the design of this museum is all about. Which brings me to…
Every time I go to the Pulitzer, there are more docents standing around than visitors. And they stare at you, And they follow you around. And they are sometimes on top of you to where you can’t even hold a quiet conversation with the people you came with without feeling like your privacy is being violated. It is the height of irony that such a glorious and open space (I do love it, don’t get me wrong) feels so confining. Even just approaching the entrance doors, you see some burley guy standing right there with his arms crossed, like your public enemy number one just for wanting to patronize and support the museum.
I fully understand the need to protect the art. But can’t you find a less intrusive way of doing this? I go to museums all around the world and this is the only one that feels like it’s run by Homeland Security.
The only positive from all this is the first time this happened, I came home and write a one-act play about the experience
Jason,
Thanks for taking time to give us your feedback. We are always trying to maintain a balance between providing the visitor the best aesthetic experience and securing the safety of the artwork. During concerts it can be particularly difficult to strike the balance because it is more crowded and the facility is being used as a performance space. Placements are decided based on concerns for proximity of artworks, number of musicians, equipment required, etc. The placements of gallery staff are continually being assessed for each concert so we will take your comments into consideration, in addition to the central need of building and artwork security.
Another unique aspect of the Pulitzer is that we strive not to have stanchions, platforms, taped boundaries, etc. interfere with the visual field of the artworks. This provides visitors with pure, uninterrupted views of the artworks, but it does require us to have more gallery assistants than other museums and galleries. These staff members have two important roles; they are here to maintain security and to answer any questions that a guest might have about a work of art or the building. Turns out they are more apt to answer visitor inquiries than your average stanchion!
Thanks for attending the concert and offering your comments. Please engage our gallery staff on your next visit because I think you will find they are helpful, friendly and informative. They are here to make your experience a more positive one.
Courtney Henson
Visitor Services Manager
The Pulitzer Foundation for the Arts
I really appreciate your reasoned response, Courtney. And I make these comments truly in the spirit of enhancing the experience because the Pulitzer Museum (and Contemporary) so enriches the neighborhood and the city (I live just a mile or two away in the Shaw neighborhood).
I do get it, especially the provision of “pure, uninterrupted views of the artwork.” This does make sense to me regarding the additional staff members. However, where they stand and how they follow you sometimes causes them to intrude on the viewing of the art or the viewer rather than appear as if they are there to answer questions. And, yes, they have been more than friendly.
In any case, perhaps it is a matter of their positioning rather than their presence?
Thanks again, and I would also urge your staff and the SLSO to think about alternative listening arrangements. Unleash the music AND the people and that space will truly live up to its holistic potential!