DSO bucks the trend

While most of the news has been bad of late in regard to the finances and future of many American symphony orchestras, as well as other arts organizations, the Dallas Symphony announced recently that it ended the 2011-12 season with a balanced budget, and with "significant" funding lined up for the coming season.

Here's the news release from their website:
https://dallassymphony.com/blog/2012/7/16/dso-ends-season.aspx

Then the DSO followed that up with the announcement last week that Jonathan Martin has been named president and CEO. Martin has a pretty good résumé, having worked in the front offices of symphonies in Atlanta, Spokane and Cleveland before taking on his most recent gig in Charlotte.


https://dallassymphony.com/blog/2012/7/23/jonathan-martin-named-dallas-symphony-orchestra-president-and-ceo.aspx

It would seem unlikely that these events are coincidental. But the combination gives us reason to hope that after the uncertainties of the last few years, the DSO may now have the administrative leadership to complement the musical heights that Jaap van Zweden and the DSO musicians are reaching.

Good news, indeed.

A temple and a hut

Even though the economy has shortened the upcoming seasons of the Dallas Symphony Orchestra and the Dallas Opera, classical music geeks like me are going to be treated to some gems. And among them are two pieces that in my opinion are among the most well-conceived and masterfully structured scenes in opera, in terms of drama and music, both vocal and orchestral.

The Dallas Opera is staging my all-time fave in October and November: Verdi's Aida. And as much as I love all 3-plus hours of this war-horse (or war-elephant, perhaps?), there's one scene that I've always been mesmerized by. And that's the Temple Scene at the end of the first act.

A friend of mine who's an opera fan and one of the biggest Bible-thumpers I know once remarked that the Temple Scene was the best "religious music" he'd ever heard -- he much preferred it to anything you'd sing in church.

The scene depicts the consecration of Radames' weapons before he leads the Egyptian army against the invading Ethiopians. Musically, it builds from the quiet chanting of the priestesses, accompanied by harps, through the exquisite sacred dance to the blazing ensemble "Nume, custode e vindice," ending the act with everyone on stage proclaiming "Immenso Fthà" as the full Wagner-size orchestra plays its fortissimo conclusion.

Despite its musical buildup, the scene really does not advance the plot of the opera, other than to demonstrate how conservative and spiritual the Egyptian rulers and their people are in this age of the Pharaohs.

It does introduce us to the spiritual music we hear numerous times throughout the rest of the opera, none more moving than the final line of the opera, where the priests again sing "Immenso Fthà," this time pianissimo, as the drama reaches its tragic end. Especially in this "religious" music, Verdi used intervals and chords that I'm sure seemed quite exotic to late 19th century audiences, and today at least retain the flavor of Middle Eastern music.

The rest of Aida doesn't fall far behind the Temple Scene in musical beauty, drama and eloquence. It has two of the best arias around, some incredible choral pieces, and of course the famous Grand March. And it's a good story, too. There's a reason it's part of the ABCs of opera: Aida, Bohème and Carmen.

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The second really boffo scene we get to experience this year comes in May, in the final concerts of the DSO's season: Maestro Jaap van Zweden conducting a concert version of Act I of Wagner's Die Walküre.


Some might quibble that the score divides this act into three scenes, but Wagner made sure the listener hears it as a continuous piece of music and action, with no set changes or other interruptions. So I'm taking the liberty of counting it as a single "scene."


This is a whole different animal from the Verdi. It runs a little over an hour, to the Temple scene's 11 minutes. Both employ a big orchestra, but the Wagner uses just three singers; Verdi uses two of the opera's major characters, a good-size chorus and a troupe of dancers. And the Walküre scene definitely advances the plot, especially in terms of the immense tetralogy it's a part of, Der Ring des Nibelungen.


Here's a quick rundown of the action in Act I. It's just your typical love story: Boy stumbles into hut in the middle of a forest while fleeing his enemies. Girl comes out and offers him a drink, and they begin to take a liking to each other. Girl's Husband comes home from battle and is immediately suspicious (he also notices that they have similar features). Over dinner, Boy talks about his upbringing in the wild and all his misfortunes, including his latest misadventure, in which he ends up with his weaons destroyed and an entire clan chasing him down. Husband notes that he's part of said clan and notes also the irony of dining under his own roof with his enemy. Husband offers Boy shelter overnight, but tells him he must defend himself in the morning. Girl drugs Husband. Girl tells Boy about her own forced marriage, and they fall head over heels. Girl points out magic sword buried to the hilt in tree that's growing in the middle of the hut (just go with it -- Harry Potter has weirder stuff than this). Boy and Girl begin to realize that they are long-lost twin brother and sister (again, just go with it). Boy pulls sword out of tree, grabs the Girl, and they run off together into the forest.

Obviously, I meant "quick rundown" in a Wagnerian sense!

Die Walküre was the first full-length music-drama that Wagner composed after deciding that opera needed a makeover, and he was the one to do it. He wanted to do away with such conventions as arias, duets and recitatives, and he wanted the music -- and the drama -- to flow continuously. He also wanted to use the orchestra as more than accompaniment to the singers: By using leitmotifs he allowed the orchestra to help tell the story, emphasizing what's really going on or even pointing out to the audience things that the characters aren't aware of.


Wagner had composed the one-act drama Das Rheingold, which is the opening part of the Ring, and used that to work out the kinks of his new ideas. When he turned to Walküre, he was in top form. Not an operatic "set piece" to be found anywhere. The music flows from a raging storm through the first glances of recognition between Siegmund and Sieglinde, into the menacing rhythm associated with her lout of a hubby, Hunding, on through all the psychological and emotional turmoil the three characters are experiencing, using the leitmotifs to clue us in, and building to the act's ecstatic climax, as the Volsung twins swear their love for each other and scamper out. But the dramatic tension builds slowly, throughout the act, so by the time the whole thing ends, you've forgotten everything else and you're really pulling for them!

And in all of that there is no aria-recitative-duet formula that Wagner's contemporary Verdi was still using (although Verdi in his own way was beginning to break down some of the old operatic barriers). Wagner reasoned that when two people express their love for each other, they don't talk at the same time, as in a duet; they have a conversation, and they may be excited and emotional, but they still take turns talking about it. Or in this case, singing about it. So he managed to create one of opera's greatest "love duets," even though it isn't a duet at all.

But, a concert version? No sets? Actually, Act I of Die Walküre is performed in concert fairly often. You don't really need to see the hut in the forest with the tree growing out of it to feel the drama as it unfolds. The only prop that's missing is the sword that Siegmund pulls out of the tree, but by that time the musical tension has built to the point that it doesn't really matter. Maestro van Zweden loves to conduct opera in concert (last season it was Beethoven's Fidelio) so audiences get a chance to pay closer attention to the music itself, and presumably so that habitual symphony-goers might find something they like in the world of opera. And along with the three top-notch singers, the DSO under van Zweden's baton in this piece should be an incredible treat!

* * * * *

There's plenty of other good stuff on tap in the coming season in North Texas from these two institutions and others. The websites of both the Dallas Opera and the Dallas Symphony are worth checking out. But you can bet I'll be there, and on the edge of my seat, for these two scenes.

Why Pearl Station?

I have been inundated with questions about what the name of my blog means! Well, OK, actually one person (a "significant" person, at that) asked me that question. But by extrapolation, if thousands of people were following my blog, I figure I would now be inundated.

No, I don't sell jewelry, although that might be a more profitable use of this space. And I'm not writing about the TV show Lost, although I was a fan: Pearl Station was one of the underground facilities built by the DHARMA Initiative. Google it, if you're curious.

Actually, I chose "Pearl Station" as the name of my classical music blog because that's the DART station where I disembark from the light rail train to take the pleasant, three-block walk to the Meyerson Symphony Center, the Winspear Opera House or any of the other venues and attractions in the Dallas Arts District. The station is on -- you guessed it -- Pearl Street in downtown Dallas.

I'm just not sure if I should be distraught, elated or indifferent to the fact that a mere two weeks after the debut of this blog, Dallas Area Rapid Transit is renaming Pearl Station to Pearl/Arts District Station. The latter seemed a tad too bulky for a blog name, so the old one is now enshrined in cyberspace.

Oh, no! Not another classical music blog!

I know just enough about classical music to be dangerous.

So instead of keeping it all bottled up inside, risking a potentially devastating explosion, I’ve decided to start this blog and let my musings on the subject wander freely through the electronic universe.

Not that I’m especially qualified to criticize or comment on classical music. Other than a couple of music history courses in college, I have no formal music education or training beyond high school, when my orchestra and band careers ended and my sporadic private lessons in piano, violin and oboe came to a halt. But I listen to the music, and I listen and read and absorb what others say about it. So rattling around in my brain are all sorts of mostly useless trivia, fragments of themes and leitmotifs, and long-ago snippets from program notes, liner notes and Opera Quiz answers. And now – a decade after blogs were the next best thing – I get to let it all out.

My taste in “classical” music runs toward orchestral works mostly from the Romantic period (Mozart and Beethoven to Brahms, Tchaikovsky and Sibelius) and opera mostly in the last half of the 19th century (Verdi, Bizet, Puccini and, of course, my man Wagner). Lots of mainstream stuff. Actually, this is a gross generalization, as those dates are quite fuzzy and there’s lots of chamber and choral music that I like. Move either way in time, earlier or into 20th century music, some of it I like and more of it I can do without.

And that’s just to let you know very generally where I’m coming from. I get the feeling from reading other blogs on this and other subjects that some of the authors are not so much providing commentary on their chosen topic as they are bashing you over the head with their supreme knowledge, and you or anyone else who might disagree with them is obviously a moron. I hope I don’t fall into that trap, and I promise to do my best not to.

I live in Dallas, so I suspect a lot of what I write here will focus on music in North Texas, a scene that is struggling (as elsewhere) but whose undercurrents are vibrant and exciting. But don’t be surprised by observations that stray to other places (or maybe even off-topic). Hopefully we’ll have some fun along the way!

Now that we’ve taken care of all that, let’s see what happens. That’s the “exposition,” now for the “development” …