Author: rvalencia

On Thursday November 19^th, 2009 I was in the presence of the world-known Italian conductor Riccardo Muti. The atmosphere was one of angst to see the conductor and hear the famous orchestra. The repertoire included Franz Liszt’s Les Preludes, Symphonic Poem No.3, Edward Elgar’s In the South Overture, and the highlight of the three, Selections from Romeo and Juliet by Sergei Profokiev. The three pieces, although their composition ranged over a century, were each epitomical works of program music.

Many in the audience would have left Lincoln Center fixated with pieces from Romeo and Juliet. It without a doubt was the main feature, however Franz Liszt’s Les Preludes, Symphonic Poem No. 3 served as an incredible headway into the program music. Despite the fact that it was only a fragment of a set, the use of the orchestra to create or depict the emotions, development, and scene he wanted was amazing. The 6- minute piece was broken down into four parts -according to Liszt- which were love, war, beauty of the countryside, and destiny. Muti actually extended the piece an extra minute or so, because the original would have been five minutes. Nevertheless the music was complemented greatly by Muti’s control of the huge orchestra that made use of tone color as exactly Romantic composers did.

The piece began with merely the string the entering. The lower ones began followed by ultimately the violins. This string intro immediately incorporated the brass section with a pushing and ‘all-over’ the place melody which reached its peak with a build up in fortissimo dynamics that lead to a hard drop to a soft tutti phrase. The flutes accentuated the ‘love’ part of the poem with held graceful legato lines.  The ritornello phrase that was focused on throughout made its way back into the piece by individual instruments at a time, and even sections at a time. Dynamics built up intensely in the ‘war’ and ‘destiny’ portion as did the tone color especially with the brass. Muti’s control of the brass section in this piece was unparalleled. He was able to successfully get the most out of them without hurting them too much. The same ritornello fragment that was originally used in ‘love’ was used in the ‘war’, just much at much faster tempos and volumes. In each part of the poem one could tell how Muti followed Liszt’s notation of alternating instrumentations to create the emotions in his sequence. Experiencing the ‘beauty of the countryside’ was the most rewarding. Muti focused on this one more than the other parts and used the delicate woodwinds, and violins to elongate sound. There weren’t many climbs and the brass was hardly used. However, even the powerful brass took turn to beautifully create the ‘natural’ countryside at the conductor’s whim. It was very waltz-like. Muti’s transitions were the most extravagant. In them he explored dynamics and tone color the most. In the last part ‘destiny’ he dictated a fuller sound with the entire orchestra showing off their versatility along with strong percussive accents. Drum rolls, the tympani, and cymbals make the last part the strongest. From his legato ‘love’ piece, to his march-like climb to ‘war’, to the ‘Bambi’-like countryside, and ultimately the extravagant ‘destiny’ he was able to experiment with what Romantics did most, expressiveness and color.

The theme throughout the entire poem was never lost. Muti truly dictated the tempos beautifully as they changed from love, to war, nature, and destiny. The moods of the piece were conveyed even more successfully with the power of the brass even when it was used in lyrical rhythms. That was the most impressive technique, the fact that in one moment instruments that sounded graceful, like the strings, were played vivace to create an eerie sound and vice versa.

Overall, Muti’s casual, yet concentrated demeanor proved that he was worth the money to see. His brilliance as well that of the orchestra was superb. Both he and that ‘animal’ he controlled were in the lime-light that morning, and nothing could stop them. Not even a pink sweater.

On November 5, 2009 I was exposed to an form of art that I am not typically fond of, have barely any experience in, and had no intention to follow/pursue. I attended Macaulay’s Meet the Artist #6: poetry readings. Beforehand, I want to establish that I do not intend to create a fixed idea of the poets, their fans, and those who attend, and that this is my opinion. With that said I can finally say that I found borderline distasteful. No, no, I found myself with angst to get out of there and drink my coffee and delicacies that were promised at the end of the session. I attended it with my girlfriend, and several mutual friends, and I can easily say that even she got nothing out of it. And she’s the English lover!

I love science, and history. I have always tended to shy away from English and the “exploration” of the language exactly because I hate when people ‘explore it’ exactly how I saw it ‘performed’ that evening. Don’t get me wrong, I have attended Poetry Slams and do enjoy the occasional Whitman and Tennyson; I am very open to such things because I do want to give it the chance, but the themes and language use that night befuddled me. I do not doubt the talent of these writers of fiction and poetry, but they were way too overrated Macaulay! The guests were Hermine Pinson, Natalie Diaz, Jamaal ‘Versiz’ May, and Khadijah Queen. Ms. Queens was a speaker and master of ceremonies for the occasion, and her poetry was among the many that truly stood out to me as awkward and not inspiring. Among all four of the speakers I found Mrs. Hermine Pinson’s work to be the most moving, natural, and effective. The others strived too hard to make their work be accepted by the audience. Mrs. Pinson was able to move many in the audience with her memorable poem dedicated to her mother who died in a fire when she was young, named ‘Song’. Her fluid voice and the incorporation of actually singing in the poem left me leaving there a bit happier knowing I listened to truly an admirable woman. Not surprisingly, she was the oldest of the four and did not need to ‘enforce’ her words. She was soft and fluid and the words themselves were able to affect the listeners.

The other three poets chose too sick and profound of topics to concentrate on in order to affect the listeners. They were more vocally trained to read their own poetry than have it read. I personally find this sad. I want to be able to know how to feel the intended emotions as I read it and not need for it to be read to me by the poet to understand. There technique was exactly that. They focused on topics that would inevitable ‘hit’ us in the face like in-depth details of war, rape, abuse, and/or a personal way to speak the poem, to make their effect on the audience. I do not attack any of their credentials and/or experience, but I did not enjoy it. It did take on a more modern aspect of poetry which fixes itself around ‘slams’ and rhythm in one’s voice, but even as a partial fan of that, I did not like it. It was the material that disheartened me. Mrs. Prine was definitely the savior at that meeting. If it were up to me, invite her back to the next one, not the others, or entirely change the event to something where REAL artists can come.

Although we did negatively critique the efforts of the museum and its curators in the putting together of this exhibit, I see it from a different perspective. This was my first time to the MOMA. It was my first official exposure to any form of modern art. I have- until last week- managed to stay away from anything to do with that word, ‘Modern art’. It’s not that I hate or despise it, it’s just that I never wanted to be in a situation where I had to judge it. Its always been very subjective and comes down to taste. You either love it, or you hate it. Yet it is almost satirical that I am in a situation where I am writing a review on an ironic exhibition at the MOMA, the haven for Modern art enthusiasts..

In regards to the exhibition I was able to enjoy myself. It did provide contrast to the other floors and rooms I had to pass to get there. Despite the fact that many loathed the way the generation of Punk Rock-with its discord, and anti-establishment subculture- was presented, I did not. I actually had very little criticism towards the methods the curators took to present it. I understand that many believed that the order of the exhibition was totally opposite of what Punk Rock stood for, and that the presentation techniques were way off. The class discussed the polite and ‘dainty’ manner the curators took to organize the wall of magazine clippings, newspapers, and posters, as well as the short ‘cute’ recordings on Sony headphones and television. Many mentioned that the exhibition could not even be mildly compared to the loudness of the generation. The exhibition was looked at and seen as a shortcoming of the curators to present the dirty, nonconforming, noisy, and protesting scene of the 70s, but I hardly do. To me there was no lacking aspect of rebellion, or more space to fill, or a display that needed more of a ‘garage’ look.

The exhibition was small, but it did include artifacts from the period. It included many visuals and audio recordings that gave samples of what the era was like. There was a glass case of old newspapers, announcements, ticket stubs, and photographs that were authentic and not copies of them. There was authenticity to the publicity given to the New York City scene of Punk Rock. Overall, I like to think the exhibition could be summed up by the title of one famous Punk Rock Song, ” Live Fast Die Young”. The Exhibition was fast. It displayed everything in about two rooms, but it was a lot of information. What we first see is a wall covered in clippings from the era. This was the highlight of the exhibition for me. Although they were just pieces of what occurred, there was variety and history in the pictures. There was not a space of white wall on this wall, and this did create the loudness of the subculture for me. If one actually took the time and put yourself into the pictures, you could probably gain more from them.What the wall did was create a sense of busyness for the spectator. I did see people a lot of time looking at the wall, but no one saw the entire wall! There was too much going on. There were bands playing on the same nights at different locales, bands getting famous nationally, while others were rising in the streets of New York. Everything was happening at once on the wall. This was how the Punk Rocker lived. Life was fast and expected to be short.

Although some complain about how this exhibition didn’t capture the ideology of Punk Rock, we have to remember we are in a museum. There are some things that are impossible to recreate. Jazz is a another genre of music that exhibitions take on. Do we really think the lifestyle of the people living during  the time  of ragtime, swing, or bebop is captured in a museum exhibition? Jazz Clubs even try to recapture how the scene was, but can always come short of what it really was like. When we see an exhibition on the evolution of man, it’s extremely hard to portray exactly what the caveman ‘culture’ was like or stood for. The main goal was survival, do we leave such an exhibition nodding and saying to ourselves, “That exhibition made me understand that survival was the main focus of that era”? How do you display what these eras represented? With artifacts, possibly photographs, recreations, etc. This exhibition had all of that. If you really want to experience Punk Rock, don’t go to a museum and complain that it didn’t leave you feeling the Punk Rock atmosphere or weren’t ‘taken back’. If you want that ‘garage’ feel, find a garage band and go to their garage .

Upon entering the Metropolitan Opera the group I was with immediately got a ‘whiff’ of that air that the elite only get to breathe. We were awed by the posh landscape and wealthy ticket holders that were not us. Before entering the plaza with a fountain that preceded the Met’s entrance, we were in Manhattan. Once here however, a different setting engulfed us; we were amidst the ‘white collar’. Even our attendance to Broadway-when we went to see West Side Story- could not be compared to how out of place we felt at the premier of Le Nozza di Figaro. Enough about us, and more about me. I don’t know about the group I was with, but I truly felt socially ‘shorter’ there. Even past the opera doors where all the audience members independent of color, race, social class, etc. are belittled to merely spectators of this great art, I felt inferior. No one could tell, but within me I was in great awe. I was truly amazed at the performance. Everyone else around me-those who typically attend the opening night of Metropolitan Opera- seemed almost indifferent. I even heard booing once the entire cast came out for their curtain call.

In high school I acted, sang, and danced in all four annual performances within the four years of my being there. I was convinced that the art of theatre was a lost one, and that its value over time had been depreciated. I was right. I could not say that I was truly bothered by any of it. My own memories of being on stage and the amount of work it took made me appreciate and become inspired by the incredible talent before me. Whatever I was once did, was nearly 1/100^th of what these performers do every night. Whenever there was an intermission in the four acts of the opera, I overheard people talking. I give my respect to those who commended, but to those who complained about it because of time I endow my pity. After the midpoint intermission I was flabbergasted at how many people left, and even at one person who fell asleep. Perhaps its just me who would not want this audience if I were in the limelight or my sensitivity to performers, but this show was one that I would not forget. Although I preferred Figaro’s performance to Susanna’s I could not call any of it bland. Even Cherubino was able to tickle the funny bone of all of us at least once throughout the Opera! Even if this is the only reason you enjoyed it-because of Cherubino- it gives you at least one reason to not boo. What stood out the most to me was the conductor and his orchestra, which he lead beautifully. Dynamics and rhythm variations made enhanced the comedy, seriousness, and playfulness of the scenes. Overall, the music and actors made the show. I left only feeling inspired and wishing those around me could value what I just saw.