SB had a video of Andy Williams and the Osmond Brothers on her latest blog post, which gave me goose pimples and made me cry a little.
I have always loved Andy Williams. One of the last great crooner in the style of Sinatra. People wonder why I am so behind the times in my tastes in music. But when you listen to the singing of the 60's, somehow you don't want to move on. Someone commented on YouTube that they don't make songs, and singers, like this anymore. And I have to agree.
Since SB put one on which made me cry, I am in turn embedding one which made me laugh. This one features the young Osmond brothers with Julie Andrews, another great favourite of mine. She both looks and sounds gorgeous. The world lost a great performer when she had to stop singing. And may I say that she looks just as beautiful and classy today as she did then. I only wish I could age as gracefully as she did when it gets to be my turn. She is the only person who inspires me to look forward to old age...
Can we say....sexy? SB and I always thought there is nothing more sexy than a man who can sing. Multiply that a few times here. The Osmond brothers, with Andy Williams (mmm...) and his brothers. The families that sing together stay together.
I think I can go to bed tonight happy.
Showing posts with label Arts And Entertainment. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Arts And Entertainment. Show all posts
Saturday, 10 April 2010
Sunday, 7 March 2010
CHARMING ASIA – WEST WINDS
I had very much enjoyed the last West Winds performance I went to – Impressions of Japan, a superb performance. Therefore, I had no compunction whatsoever to attend their latest concert – Charming Asia. The theme of the concert needs no further introduction.
I found the first half of the concert somewhat wanting, in both programming and performance. West Winds did not exactly disappoint, but it was far from the performance I was expecting. The concert started with Charming Asia by Yau Yuen-Hing, Simon, which was somewhat akin to Japanese Graffiti meets Asia, and entertaining (in a rather corny way) only for the familiarity of the tunes. Arabesque by Samuel R. Hazo passed in a forgettable lump of sounds after a promising Scheherazade-like opening, but that was more attributable to the writing rather than any deficiencies in West Winds’ playing.
It got better after that with Philip Sparke’s Postcard from Singapore¸ featuring several local favourites such as Di-Taanjung Katong and Munnaeru Vaalibaa, which allowed me to indulge in a little nostalgia. I have always liked Philip Sparke and found his arrangement quite well done, if a little too academic and bland to be truly top notched. The first half ended with an old favourite, Alfred Reed’s Armenian Dances (Part 1). And like an old, familiar friend, whatever it lacked in awe-inspiring musical breakthroughs, it at least made up for it in nostalgic comfort.
The second half of the concert was conducted by the well-known Japanese composer Ito Yasuhide, and featured mostly his own works. Mr Ito is a more than competent composer and conductor, and the second half of the concert was a lot more interesting and entertaining simply by virtue of that. His self narration was both entertaining and enlightening, making up admirably for the lack of program notes. This is a gripe that EP often has. What is the point of having a program booklet without program notes, especially if there are feature composers, debut works, and special themes?
The band started of the second half of the concert with Ito Yasuhide’s The Earth. By his own explanation, the piece is both a reflection of his wish for world peace, and a dedication to the same. As an aside, the Japanese and their quest for world peace never cease to amuse me. 80% of Japanese students from elementary to graduate levels would tell you that their ambition is to join the UN and promote world peace. But if you ask them how they intend to go about implementing that, they have totally no idea. I applaud their nobility but have to shake my head at their naivety.
The next piece was Koh Chang Su’s Korean Dances, which was a challenging piece for both the band and the audience, and both got through reasonably well, for all there were a few precarious moments. The next two pieces were both arrangements by Ito Yasuhide, Taiwanese Posy and the newly commissioned Bengawan Solo, my favourite pieces by far for the whole concert. Taiwanese Posy featured a collection of twelve Taiwan aboriginal melodies in five movements. The piece was highly representative of all sides the Taiwanese aboriginal music, from what I could tell, and his signature arrangement of interweaving melodies and musical relays from instrumental section to section worked very well for this piece. For Bengawan Solo, I was relieved to find that he had stuck to a very simple arrangement style, featuring mainly jazz and march movements, which suited the whole spirit of the original music very well.
Compared to the last concert I attended, West Winds sounded a lot less polished and prepared this time round. Tuning issues, messed up entries etc kept cropping up. Instrumental soloists were less than stellar. The lower brasses, especially the trombone section, sounded weak and muddied, and were especially ineffective when it came to Ito Yasuhide’s arrangements where there were plenty of musical relays – the lower brasses kind of dropped the baton. In my opinion, The Earth would have benefited a lot from a better lower brass section, and it was somewhat torturous listening to the Tuba/Double Bass solo in Korean Dances (or was it Taiwanese Posy?). For want of a better analogy, it sounded like a dying hog groveling in the mud. Not a very pretty picture.
At the other end of the spectrum, we were very much impressed with the French Horn section. With the exception of a few intonation problems during the first half of the concert, they did marvelously. Great tuning, great tone, relatively clean execution, and fearless playing. There are few French horn sections in the local amateur wind band scene able to match. I personally thought the Saxaphone section did quite well also.
A word about the Master of Ceremony. I have no idea who wrote his script, but it would have benefitted from some vetting and editing with regards to the English used.
In general, I thought the handling of the pieces felt rather heavy handed. I could not feel the delicacy and exotic flavour that should come across in such a theme. Part of it might have been due to the way the pieces were written, but I felt that a smaller ensemble and a lighter touch could have done a better job. Nevertheless, I consider the performance another job reasonably well done by West Winds. If it did not hit the heights, there were no major lows either. It was an entertaining night when all’s said and done, and I look forward to another concert soon.
I found the first half of the concert somewhat wanting, in both programming and performance. West Winds did not exactly disappoint, but it was far from the performance I was expecting. The concert started with Charming Asia by Yau Yuen-Hing, Simon, which was somewhat akin to Japanese Graffiti meets Asia, and entertaining (in a rather corny way) only for the familiarity of the tunes. Arabesque by Samuel R. Hazo passed in a forgettable lump of sounds after a promising Scheherazade-like opening, but that was more attributable to the writing rather than any deficiencies in West Winds’ playing.
It got better after that with Philip Sparke’s Postcard from Singapore¸ featuring several local favourites such as Di-Taanjung Katong and Munnaeru Vaalibaa, which allowed me to indulge in a little nostalgia. I have always liked Philip Sparke and found his arrangement quite well done, if a little too academic and bland to be truly top notched. The first half ended with an old favourite, Alfred Reed’s Armenian Dances (Part 1). And like an old, familiar friend, whatever it lacked in awe-inspiring musical breakthroughs, it at least made up for it in nostalgic comfort.
The second half of the concert was conducted by the well-known Japanese composer Ito Yasuhide, and featured mostly his own works. Mr Ito is a more than competent composer and conductor, and the second half of the concert was a lot more interesting and entertaining simply by virtue of that. His self narration was both entertaining and enlightening, making up admirably for the lack of program notes. This is a gripe that EP often has. What is the point of having a program booklet without program notes, especially if there are feature composers, debut works, and special themes?
The band started of the second half of the concert with Ito Yasuhide’s The Earth. By his own explanation, the piece is both a reflection of his wish for world peace, and a dedication to the same. As an aside, the Japanese and their quest for world peace never cease to amuse me. 80% of Japanese students from elementary to graduate levels would tell you that their ambition is to join the UN and promote world peace. But if you ask them how they intend to go about implementing that, they have totally no idea. I applaud their nobility but have to shake my head at their naivety.
The next piece was Koh Chang Su’s Korean Dances, which was a challenging piece for both the band and the audience, and both got through reasonably well, for all there were a few precarious moments. The next two pieces were both arrangements by Ito Yasuhide, Taiwanese Posy and the newly commissioned Bengawan Solo, my favourite pieces by far for the whole concert. Taiwanese Posy featured a collection of twelve Taiwan aboriginal melodies in five movements. The piece was highly representative of all sides the Taiwanese aboriginal music, from what I could tell, and his signature arrangement of interweaving melodies and musical relays from instrumental section to section worked very well for this piece. For Bengawan Solo, I was relieved to find that he had stuck to a very simple arrangement style, featuring mainly jazz and march movements, which suited the whole spirit of the original music very well.
Compared to the last concert I attended, West Winds sounded a lot less polished and prepared this time round. Tuning issues, messed up entries etc kept cropping up. Instrumental soloists were less than stellar. The lower brasses, especially the trombone section, sounded weak and muddied, and were especially ineffective when it came to Ito Yasuhide’s arrangements where there were plenty of musical relays – the lower brasses kind of dropped the baton. In my opinion, The Earth would have benefited a lot from a better lower brass section, and it was somewhat torturous listening to the Tuba/Double Bass solo in Korean Dances (or was it Taiwanese Posy?). For want of a better analogy, it sounded like a dying hog groveling in the mud. Not a very pretty picture.
At the other end of the spectrum, we were very much impressed with the French Horn section. With the exception of a few intonation problems during the first half of the concert, they did marvelously. Great tuning, great tone, relatively clean execution, and fearless playing. There are few French horn sections in the local amateur wind band scene able to match. I personally thought the Saxaphone section did quite well also.
A word about the Master of Ceremony. I have no idea who wrote his script, but it would have benefitted from some vetting and editing with regards to the English used.
In general, I thought the handling of the pieces felt rather heavy handed. I could not feel the delicacy and exotic flavour that should come across in such a theme. Part of it might have been due to the way the pieces were written, but I felt that a smaller ensemble and a lighter touch could have done a better job. Nevertheless, I consider the performance another job reasonably well done by West Winds. If it did not hit the heights, there were no major lows either. It was an entertaining night when all’s said and done, and I look forward to another concert soon.
Tuesday, 12 January 2010
BIKINIS AND BITCHING - THE S-FACTOR
Some nights ago, I watched all eight episodes of MediaCorp's "The S-Factor" on Youtube in one go.
I know, I know, I am slow. It is probably the contrary streak in me, but I hate to do something when everyone else is doing it as well. I watched Susan Boyle's video only about a year after it first made waves on Youtube. So watching "The S-Factor" months only after everyone else has watched it and bitched about it to death, is nothing new in my books. Happens like that all the time.
Ah, yes, bitch. This is the critical word. But I am getting ahead of myself.
When the show first aired, the reviews were everywhere and they were so bad that I decided not to waste my time. Then people started to post clips of the pre-audition videos on Facebook, and I started to get curious. Just how bad was it anyway?
Sometimes, watching something after tons of lousy reviews is not a bad idea. I went into it with the lowest of expectations; I was anticipating something like Ris Low times ten, and was presently surprised. To say that these S-Factor girls are the creme de la creme of Singapore girls would be too much, but they are really not as bad as people made them out to be.
I have heard a lot about them, their (low) level of intelligence, looks, characters, even their command of English. Especially the last, which is pretty ironical, given the (not so impressive) language standards of the typical Singaporean. As a group, I thought the girls were reasonably smart, most were quite pretty, some were quite gorgeous, and in general pretty articulate and well-spoken. Sure, there is the odd fluff-head, some not-so-gorgeous babes, and a lot of bitchiness, but it is a reality show after all. The idea is to provoke and entertain. Wherein lies the entertainment if there is no bitching and no fodder for the bitchiness?
And so we are back to the central theme. Most people had a lot to say about the bitching and malicious back-stabbing etc going. And I have to say that I don't see what the fuss is all about. In fact, I have to confess that in my salad days (and even now), my friends and I gossiping together would have looked and sounded exactly like these girls in their bitching sessions, minus all that gorgeousness of course. I do not think things have changed so much that young girls these days are discussing world politics when they get together. Nor do I think that the gathering of housewives at my void deck are putting together a proposal for ending the famine on Somalia. The only difference is that the rest of us are doing it off national TV. So why so much objection to what is only reality? That only makes us out to be hypocrites. It is after all, reality TV.
Then of course, there is the group who worries about such content being shown on TV. Bad influence for kids, and worries that foreigners might think the girls representative of Singaporean girls, blah blah. The former, well, I have always been of the opinion that TV media (and school teachers) has taken the brunt of the blame for poor parenting, so I shall not comment further on this. The latter, lets just say that I think of these foreigners the same way I think of those who ask me whether Singapore is a province of China; basically I don't quite worry what these uninformed peons think. Then again, if only some of these girls are representative of Singapore girls! It wouldn't exactly make me unhappy to be classed on the same level as the smart, articulate and totally gorgeous Holly Jean.
If I had to object to anything, it would be the sheer inanity of the challenges that were put forward by the producers. If I had to doubt anyone's intelligence, it would be the ones who came up with the challenges. I have seen school orientation programmes with more flair and creativity.
Well, "The S-Factor" is no Emmy contender. I do think there are better things to spend my time on (like "The Biggest Loser", haha). However, it is by no means the piece of excretable material that some people have likened it to. And the girls who participated, are no more and no less than other girls of the same age, except that they can wear bikinis and the rest of us will look like muffins if we attempt the same.
That said, if I ever catch hold of that girl who made that comment about big butts in bikinis at Zouk-out......
I know, I know, I am slow. It is probably the contrary streak in me, but I hate to do something when everyone else is doing it as well. I watched Susan Boyle's video only about a year after it first made waves on Youtube. So watching "The S-Factor" months only after everyone else has watched it and bitched about it to death, is nothing new in my books. Happens like that all the time.
Ah, yes, bitch. This is the critical word. But I am getting ahead of myself.
When the show first aired, the reviews were everywhere and they were so bad that I decided not to waste my time. Then people started to post clips of the pre-audition videos on Facebook, and I started to get curious. Just how bad was it anyway?
Sometimes, watching something after tons of lousy reviews is not a bad idea. I went into it with the lowest of expectations; I was anticipating something like Ris Low times ten, and was presently surprised. To say that these S-Factor girls are the creme de la creme of Singapore girls would be too much, but they are really not as bad as people made them out to be.
I have heard a lot about them, their (low) level of intelligence, looks, characters, even their command of English. Especially the last, which is pretty ironical, given the (not so impressive) language standards of the typical Singaporean. As a group, I thought the girls were reasonably smart, most were quite pretty, some were quite gorgeous, and in general pretty articulate and well-spoken. Sure, there is the odd fluff-head, some not-so-gorgeous babes, and a lot of bitchiness, but it is a reality show after all. The idea is to provoke and entertain. Wherein lies the entertainment if there is no bitching and no fodder for the bitchiness?
And so we are back to the central theme. Most people had a lot to say about the bitching and malicious back-stabbing etc going. And I have to say that I don't see what the fuss is all about. In fact, I have to confess that in my salad days (and even now), my friends and I gossiping together would have looked and sounded exactly like these girls in their bitching sessions, minus all that gorgeousness of course. I do not think things have changed so much that young girls these days are discussing world politics when they get together. Nor do I think that the gathering of housewives at my void deck are putting together a proposal for ending the famine on Somalia. The only difference is that the rest of us are doing it off national TV. So why so much objection to what is only reality? That only makes us out to be hypocrites. It is after all, reality TV.
Then of course, there is the group who worries about such content being shown on TV. Bad influence for kids, and worries that foreigners might think the girls representative of Singaporean girls, blah blah. The former, well, I have always been of the opinion that TV media (and school teachers) has taken the brunt of the blame for poor parenting, so I shall not comment further on this. The latter, lets just say that I think of these foreigners the same way I think of those who ask me whether Singapore is a province of China; basically I don't quite worry what these uninformed peons think. Then again, if only some of these girls are representative of Singapore girls! It wouldn't exactly make me unhappy to be classed on the same level as the smart, articulate and totally gorgeous Holly Jean.
If I had to object to anything, it would be the sheer inanity of the challenges that were put forward by the producers. If I had to doubt anyone's intelligence, it would be the ones who came up with the challenges. I have seen school orientation programmes with more flair and creativity.
Well, "The S-Factor" is no Emmy contender. I do think there are better things to spend my time on (like "The Biggest Loser", haha). However, it is by no means the piece of excretable material that some people have likened it to. And the girls who participated, are no more and no less than other girls of the same age, except that they can wear bikinis and the rest of us will look like muffins if we attempt the same.
That said, if I ever catch hold of that girl who made that comment about big butts in bikinis at Zouk-out......
Sunday, 3 January 2010
WAS IT WORTH IT?
Why are some of the most beautiful pieces of music in the world also the saddest?
Will the world remember you
When you fall?
Could it be your death
Means nothing at all?
Is your life just one more lie?
(Les Miserables - Drink with Me)
Was it worth it then? Is it today? Will it be tomorrow?
Will the world remember you
When you fall?
Could it be your death
Means nothing at all?
Is your life just one more lie?
(Les Miserables - Drink with Me)
Was it worth it then? Is it today? Will it be tomorrow?
Saturday, 26 December 2009
HEY MR PRODUCER
There are always things that I seem to take an urge to do every so often, re-read certain books, re-watch certain movies (Lord of the Rings, oh yes) etc etc. Yesterday night, I was suddenly suffused with the longing to go through the three hour production of "Hey, Mr Producer" again, and so I did. Individual musicals themselves are very well, but there is nothing like a mega production like this to excite the senses. Such productions are possibly the only times when we actually see most, if not all, the big names in the industry on stage together. My only regret is that such productions are probably too expensive to bring to Singapore, and I will never have the chance to see them live. But, I can live with what I have.
Thanks to Youtube, I can share a few favourite parts with everyone else, without going into the agonies of description with my inept writing.
One of my favourite pieces of singing. I love the song and the sentiments that it presents. And Bernadette Peters is one of my favourite Broadway star. There is just something very special about her voice and this song is tailor made for her.
This is where I fell in lust with Hugh Jackman, Wolverine notwithstanding. This man can sing. To be multi-talented and good-looking into the bargain; the gods must have been incredibly unfair. Oh, what a beautiful morning? I would have thought "Oh, what a beautiful man" more apt.
Not quite a fan of Ellen Green and the Little Shop of Horrors, but the song "Somewhere That's Green" touched me, and especially since Ellen Green was already crying when she started to sing. One thing though, I spent the entire stretch in anticipation of certain parts of her popping out of her dress.
Some funny nonsense from "Tom Foolery". Gives me stitches everytime I listen to it.
And lastly, this funny tribute from Andrew Lloyd Webber and Stephen Sondheim to Cameron Mackintosh.
Oh, I do love musical theatre.
Thanks to Youtube, I can share a few favourite parts with everyone else, without going into the agonies of description with my inept writing.
One of my favourite pieces of singing. I love the song and the sentiments that it presents. And Bernadette Peters is one of my favourite Broadway star. There is just something very special about her voice and this song is tailor made for her.
This is where I fell in lust with Hugh Jackman, Wolverine notwithstanding. This man can sing. To be multi-talented and good-looking into the bargain; the gods must have been incredibly unfair. Oh, what a beautiful morning? I would have thought "Oh, what a beautiful man" more apt.
Not quite a fan of Ellen Green and the Little Shop of Horrors, but the song "Somewhere That's Green" touched me, and especially since Ellen Green was already crying when she started to sing. One thing though, I spent the entire stretch in anticipation of certain parts of her popping out of her dress.
Some funny nonsense from "Tom Foolery". Gives me stitches everytime I listen to it.
And lastly, this funny tribute from Andrew Lloyd Webber and Stephen Sondheim to Cameron Mackintosh.
Oh, I do love musical theatre.
Sunday, 20 September 2009
CONDOR HEROES
I occasionally like to browse in my local CD/DVD shop to see if they have good deals. This week, I was told by the sales person that TVB would no longer continue to issue new VCD/DVDs of the older serials made in the ‘80s. I had notice many of the older series were no longer on the shelves, so, despite not knowing if this was just a sales gimmick, I blew a hundred bucks and swept that last copy of “Return of the Condor Heroes” （神雕侠侣）off the shelf.
I cannot claim to be a true-blue fan Louis Cha (金庸) since I never did complete all of his martial arts novels. But those I had read, I absolutely loved. He is a true master of his art, as many better than me have testified. His imagination and creativity is astounding and the sheer attention to detail in his novels is nothing short of a miracle.
Many of his works have been made into television drama serials, the most faithful being Hong Kong’s TVB. Amongst them, the most popular works, which also happen to be my favourites, would have to be “Legend of the Condor Heroes” (射雕英雄传), its sequel “Return of the Condor Heroes” （神雕侠侣）and lastly “The Demi Gods and Semi Devils” （天龙八部）. Some consider the last a loose prequel of the first. I am not an expert enough to argue either way, so I’ll just leave it at that.
Many people have their own opinion of the definitive version of the various serials. I am no exception. Not raindrops on roses, or whiskers on kittens, but these are some of my favourite things:
Legend of the Condor Heroes (射雕英雄传) starring Felix Wong and Barbara Yung
Return of the Condor Heroes（神雕侠侣) starring Andy Lau and Idy Chan
The Demi Gods and Semi Devils （天龙八部）starring Felix Wong, Benny Chan and Fan Shao Huang
Anyway, I spent a good part of this weekend on my newly purchased series. The other two I already have in my collection, and have already watched them enough to memorise the dialogue. For some reason, I have resisted buying “Return” until now, so it was a great, great pleasure to reacquaint myself. Many people would assume that I love the series for eye candy Andy Lau, and while that was one factor among many, many others, I spent most of my time mooning not over Andy, but this guy:
Actor Bryan Leung Kah Yan (梁家仁) in the role of Guo Jing (郭靖), hero extraordinaire…and all MAN. I watched the DVDs twice through. The second time, I basically fast forwarded through all the various parts until I came to those scenes which included him. Frankly, I’ll marry him in a heartbeat if he were still available. Offer me Orlando Bloom, and I’ll still choose him. Chinese martial arts pwn elvish powers….hehe…..
PS: I really want to kill someone regarding the screwed up formatting.
Saturday, 1 August 2009
SSO – POSTCARDS FROM SPAIN
I almost gave up on the SSO performance because of the flu. Waited until late afternoon, then decided I felt well enough to attend, and didn’t regret going. Even though there is a little relapse this morning.
I was kind of amused to note that “Postcards from Spain” featured works by three French composers – Debussy, Chabrier and Ravel. Irony aside, the program selection was rather well put together and entertaining. SSO was in quite a good form and gave a credible, if not perfect performance. It had been some time since I had attended such an enjoyable orchestra performance.
It was the also first time that I had a seat so near the stage. We were literally at the musicians’ feet, since the front row stall seats are much closer to the stage at the Esplanade concert hall compared to other venues such as the Victoria concert hall. We were all used to sitting further away in the Second Circle, so it was something new for us to get used to. I was somewhat concerned regarding the acoustics since we were sitting so near the stage. I didn’t want to spend the rest of the night listening to an unbalanced orchestra, but it was surprisingly unproblematic. In fact, sitting so near, the orchestra sounded more transparent to us, and we were able to catch many small details that might not have been audible if we were sitting at a distance. I was only disappointed at not having a full view of the orchestra. Half the fun in attending a live performance is watching the musicians, and being a wind player myself, I have special interest invested in the wind musicians, who typically sits right at the back of the orchestra.
The program for the night:
Maurice Ravel - Pavane pour une infante defunte
Emmanuel Chabrier – Espana
Claude Debussy – Fantaisie for piano and orchestra (Piano: Noriko Ogawa)
Claude Debussy – Iberia
Maurice Ravel – Bolero
The Pavane is a familiar tune. Nothing new or fancy there, but very nicely played, and was an enjoyable little ditty to start the performance with. I especially loved the French horn solo, though it didn’t give me any goose pimples. One thing though, I always thought this piece sounded more like Debussy’s work, but I guess these Frenchmen do influence each other here and there.
Chabrier’s Espana is written in the style that I love - flamboyant and colourful, bright and melodious. Again, well played and entertaining. No complaints here.
I found Debussy’s Fantaisie rather boring, which was not really surprising, since I have never cared much for Impressionist writing, with a few exceptions. Debussy’s works have never made it to my music list (not that he would have cared anyway). They are generally too airy fairy and lacking in body for me to take much interest. Give me the fire and verve of the Russian composers any day. So, despite having Noriko Ogawa on the piano, I spent most of the Fantaisie contemplating conductor Lan Shui’s legs (which was all I could see from my seat, his body being blocked by the piano), and mind orbiting in some unknown sphere.
The Iberia was more interesting for me, although not as well played. It sounded somewhat messy here and there, but I have to admit that the piece was technically quite challenging. Sitting where we were, we were more able to catch the various little details and nuances, which may made the piece more interesting to us.
The piece de resistance of the night for me was Ravel’s Bolero. This is one of Ravel’s most popular work and one of my most favourite pieces of music ever. A single theme repeated for fifteen minutes may sound tedious to some, but the ingenious orchestration makes every single second of the work riveting. Further, it is one of few orchestra pieces which show cases the wind instruments, and even scores in the saxophone, which is not a normally found in most orchestral writings. As a wind instrument player myself, this adds to my interest in the piece.
I would rate this SSO’s performance reasonably credible, but far from masterful. The piece started off somewhat shakily with respect to tempo, but which thankfully soon rallied. The most challenging parts of the piece lie in the first few repetitions of the theme, which were mainly solos by the wind instruments. The orchestral accompaniment also had to play softly and subtly at the beginning, which also added to the difficulty, especially when the brasses started to add on the articulated rhythm.
With the exception of the saxophone solos, I find the other solos somewhat bland. The playing was credible enough, and there no major boo-boos except for the piccolo which went off pitch at points. However, there was also no show of virtuosity from the soloists, which I thought was a pity. The most disappointing was perhaps the trombone solo, which the player could have made more of. I could hardly hear any of the glissando. The saxophone solos however, were just nicely done - good tone and with just the right amount of showiness without going over the top.
I was rather amused that the tension that pervaded the orchestra and the audience at the start of the piece. It was as if everyone was holding their breaths waiting for a major screw-up to happen. I could feel the general relaxation once solos were over and done with and the piece progressed into the tutti parts.
In general, it still was a good performance, which I very much enjoyed. We shall see what the next SSO season brings.
I was kind of amused to note that “Postcards from Spain” featured works by three French composers – Debussy, Chabrier and Ravel. Irony aside, the program selection was rather well put together and entertaining. SSO was in quite a good form and gave a credible, if not perfect performance. It had been some time since I had attended such an enjoyable orchestra performance.
It was the also first time that I had a seat so near the stage. We were literally at the musicians’ feet, since the front row stall seats are much closer to the stage at the Esplanade concert hall compared to other venues such as the Victoria concert hall. We were all used to sitting further away in the Second Circle, so it was something new for us to get used to. I was somewhat concerned regarding the acoustics since we were sitting so near the stage. I didn’t want to spend the rest of the night listening to an unbalanced orchestra, but it was surprisingly unproblematic. In fact, sitting so near, the orchestra sounded more transparent to us, and we were able to catch many small details that might not have been audible if we were sitting at a distance. I was only disappointed at not having a full view of the orchestra. Half the fun in attending a live performance is watching the musicians, and being a wind player myself, I have special interest invested in the wind musicians, who typically sits right at the back of the orchestra.
The program for the night:
Maurice Ravel - Pavane pour une infante defunte
Emmanuel Chabrier – Espana
Claude Debussy – Fantaisie for piano and orchestra (Piano: Noriko Ogawa)
Claude Debussy – Iberia
Maurice Ravel – Bolero
The Pavane is a familiar tune. Nothing new or fancy there, but very nicely played, and was an enjoyable little ditty to start the performance with. I especially loved the French horn solo, though it didn’t give me any goose pimples. One thing though, I always thought this piece sounded more like Debussy’s work, but I guess these Frenchmen do influence each other here and there.
Chabrier’s Espana is written in the style that I love - flamboyant and colourful, bright and melodious. Again, well played and entertaining. No complaints here.
I found Debussy’s Fantaisie rather boring, which was not really surprising, since I have never cared much for Impressionist writing, with a few exceptions. Debussy’s works have never made it to my music list (not that he would have cared anyway). They are generally too airy fairy and lacking in body for me to take much interest. Give me the fire and verve of the Russian composers any day. So, despite having Noriko Ogawa on the piano, I spent most of the Fantaisie contemplating conductor Lan Shui’s legs (which was all I could see from my seat, his body being blocked by the piano), and mind orbiting in some unknown sphere.
The Iberia was more interesting for me, although not as well played. It sounded somewhat messy here and there, but I have to admit that the piece was technically quite challenging. Sitting where we were, we were more able to catch the various little details and nuances, which may made the piece more interesting to us.
The piece de resistance of the night for me was Ravel’s Bolero. This is one of Ravel’s most popular work and one of my most favourite pieces of music ever. A single theme repeated for fifteen minutes may sound tedious to some, but the ingenious orchestration makes every single second of the work riveting. Further, it is one of few orchestra pieces which show cases the wind instruments, and even scores in the saxophone, which is not a normally found in most orchestral writings. As a wind instrument player myself, this adds to my interest in the piece.
I would rate this SSO’s performance reasonably credible, but far from masterful. The piece started off somewhat shakily with respect to tempo, but which thankfully soon rallied. The most challenging parts of the piece lie in the first few repetitions of the theme, which were mainly solos by the wind instruments. The orchestral accompaniment also had to play softly and subtly at the beginning, which also added to the difficulty, especially when the brasses started to add on the articulated rhythm.
With the exception of the saxophone solos, I find the other solos somewhat bland. The playing was credible enough, and there no major boo-boos except for the piccolo which went off pitch at points. However, there was also no show of virtuosity from the soloists, which I thought was a pity. The most disappointing was perhaps the trombone solo, which the player could have made more of. I could hardly hear any of the glissando. The saxophone solos however, were just nicely done - good tone and with just the right amount of showiness without going over the top.
I was rather amused that the tension that pervaded the orchestra and the audience at the start of the piece. It was as if everyone was holding their breaths waiting for a major screw-up to happen. I could feel the general relaxation once solos were over and done with and the piece progressed into the tutti parts.
In general, it still was a good performance, which I very much enjoyed. We shall see what the next SSO season brings.
Sunday, 26 July 2009
ALL THINGS SINGAPOREAN
I managed to leave the house under my own steam yesterday for an evening’s entertainment, thanks to the new meds for the gastric pain.
Ignoring the occasional twinges in my stomach area, I met EP for a good dinner of wagyu beef and black pig katsu at Tomton before the evening show. I knew I would probably have to pay for it later with an expanded waistline and maybe recurring gastric pain (I am supposed to be on light fare), but like a typical Singaporean, the foodie in me said “Heck! Eat first, worry later.”
Most people have an angel and a devil sitting on their shoulders; not me – I have a foodie on one, and a dieter on the other. Foodie won this round. The black pig katsu is an old favourite and has never failed me yet. And we all know how much I love pork. The thin, crispy and light batter which melts in the mouth coupled with the tender, fatty pork – pure ambrosia. The restaurant had a wagyu beef version promotion going on, so we tried that as well. It wasn’t too bad, but the beef was too rare for my liking, and the batter combination didn’t turn out so great with beef. I would personally stick to the pork after this, and leave wagyu for when I feel generous enough for a steak at Morton’s of Chicago. Ohhh….the thought…..
We encountered crowds of people at the Marina area and belatedly remembered the National Day Parade rehearsals that were going on in the area. We were therefore lucky enough to be able to catch the helicopters flying past overhead with the Singapore flag , the fighter planes choreograph and the cannon salute out at the bay area. It sometimes surprises me the number of Singaporeans who would actually turn up for affairs like this. I suppose not everyone is a lazy, unpatriotic and apathetic homebody as I.
The evening show was SingDollar!, a local musical comedy by Dream Academy starring the best known names in the local comedy scene. I was happy to find amongst the cast Kumar, the undisputed drag queen of Singapore, whose other shows I have not been able to catch due to his popularity and my laziness in ticket purchase. The plot was about money woes that had befallen a motley crew of Singaporeans and foreign workers, centered in a coffee shop in our beloved red light district of Geylang. There were the usual politically incorrect satirical pokes at the local political and social situation and news and roof raising spoofs and the usual adult references. The format has always been the same; the difference is only in the content. No matter, we were still hugely entertained and holding our sides throughout the show, and still emitting chuckles even as we walked out of the theatre to supper.
One of the reasons I enjoy attending local comedy productions, including some of the stand-up comedies by local comedians such as Hossan Leong, is the freedom to indulge in a little local politically incorrect, sometimes outright libelous heckling without the fear of being sued for defamation. To hear the comedians speak the minds of those on the ground, to hear them voice our petty thoughts for us and secretly nod our heads vehemently in the dark of the theatre and yelling “Yeah, that’s it!” in our hearts of hearts, while at the same time allowing us to maintain our politically correct, tolerant and open minded front in the light of the day. Hypocrisy, yes….but I am all for hypocrisy that allows a nation to maintain a peaceful existence but which also allows us individuals to vent our petty, ungenerous frustrations in a civilized manner.
While I enjoyed productions such as Avenue Q, the connection was not so immediate, because the show was after all, based on life in America. Some of the jokes pass over our heads, and even if we did manage to catch the punch lines, we are unable to identify as intimately. Local productions are based on issues that happened in our own backyard, on stuff close to our hearts. Is it any wonder then that I have continued to support a number of such local comedic productions since being introduced to them a number of years ago?
By the way, I found out only today that the Liverpool team did a bumboat tour on the Singapore River. It seems like I missed the affair by a few hours, since the crowd had apparently already dispersed when I reached The Central for dinner. No loss there, since I am no football fan, though some of those boys ARE really cute. After reading the papers today though, I would have gotten myself a ticket to the match between the Lions and the Liverpool team if I could have laid hands on one, just to cheer the Lions on. It seems only right that our very home team should have at least the same kind of support shown to them as a foreign one. That is my one patriotic moment amongst many uncaring ones, so treasure it. I do hope that the Singaporean Liverpool fans will also cheer the Lions if they do score.
We have another date next weekend with SSO for a night of Spanish themed music. I can hardly wait for that, because they are playing Ravel’s Bolero, which is one of my favourite pieces of music (SB calls it fifteen minutes of driving her crazy). More on that next time.
Ignoring the occasional twinges in my stomach area, I met EP for a good dinner of wagyu beef and black pig katsu at Tomton before the evening show. I knew I would probably have to pay for it later with an expanded waistline and maybe recurring gastric pain (I am supposed to be on light fare), but like a typical Singaporean, the foodie in me said “Heck! Eat first, worry later.”
Most people have an angel and a devil sitting on their shoulders; not me – I have a foodie on one, and a dieter on the other. Foodie won this round. The black pig katsu is an old favourite and has never failed me yet. And we all know how much I love pork. The thin, crispy and light batter which melts in the mouth coupled with the tender, fatty pork – pure ambrosia. The restaurant had a wagyu beef version promotion going on, so we tried that as well. It wasn’t too bad, but the beef was too rare for my liking, and the batter combination didn’t turn out so great with beef. I would personally stick to the pork after this, and leave wagyu for when I feel generous enough for a steak at Morton’s of Chicago. Ohhh….the thought…..
We encountered crowds of people at the Marina area and belatedly remembered the National Day Parade rehearsals that were going on in the area. We were therefore lucky enough to be able to catch the helicopters flying past overhead with the Singapore flag , the fighter planes choreograph and the cannon salute out at the bay area. It sometimes surprises me the number of Singaporeans who would actually turn up for affairs like this. I suppose not everyone is a lazy, unpatriotic and apathetic homebody as I.
The evening show was SingDollar!, a local musical comedy by Dream Academy starring the best known names in the local comedy scene. I was happy to find amongst the cast Kumar, the undisputed drag queen of Singapore, whose other shows I have not been able to catch due to his popularity and my laziness in ticket purchase. The plot was about money woes that had befallen a motley crew of Singaporeans and foreign workers, centered in a coffee shop in our beloved red light district of Geylang. There were the usual politically incorrect satirical pokes at the local political and social situation and news and roof raising spoofs and the usual adult references. The format has always been the same; the difference is only in the content. No matter, we were still hugely entertained and holding our sides throughout the show, and still emitting chuckles even as we walked out of the theatre to supper.
One of the reasons I enjoy attending local comedy productions, including some of the stand-up comedies by local comedians such as Hossan Leong, is the freedom to indulge in a little local politically incorrect, sometimes outright libelous heckling without the fear of being sued for defamation. To hear the comedians speak the minds of those on the ground, to hear them voice our petty thoughts for us and secretly nod our heads vehemently in the dark of the theatre and yelling “Yeah, that’s it!” in our hearts of hearts, while at the same time allowing us to maintain our politically correct, tolerant and open minded front in the light of the day. Hypocrisy, yes….but I am all for hypocrisy that allows a nation to maintain a peaceful existence but which also allows us individuals to vent our petty, ungenerous frustrations in a civilized manner.
While I enjoyed productions such as Avenue Q, the connection was not so immediate, because the show was after all, based on life in America. Some of the jokes pass over our heads, and even if we did manage to catch the punch lines, we are unable to identify as intimately. Local productions are based on issues that happened in our own backyard, on stuff close to our hearts. Is it any wonder then that I have continued to support a number of such local comedic productions since being introduced to them a number of years ago?
By the way, I found out only today that the Liverpool team did a bumboat tour on the Singapore River. It seems like I missed the affair by a few hours, since the crowd had apparently already dispersed when I reached The Central for dinner. No loss there, since I am no football fan, though some of those boys ARE really cute. After reading the papers today though, I would have gotten myself a ticket to the match between the Lions and the Liverpool team if I could have laid hands on one, just to cheer the Lions on. It seems only right that our very home team should have at least the same kind of support shown to them as a foreign one. That is my one patriotic moment amongst many uncaring ones, so treasure it. I do hope that the Singaporean Liverpool fans will also cheer the Lions if they do score.
We have another date next weekend with SSO for a night of Spanish themed music. I can hardly wait for that, because they are playing Ravel’s Bolero, which is one of my favourite pieces of music (SB calls it fifteen minutes of driving her crazy). More on that next time.
Sunday, 14 June 2009
SINGAPORE TOWN, MOSCOW STATE SOLOISTS AND MEN IN WHITE
Every time I go to the Esplanade for a concert, “Singapore Town” invariably plays in my mind.
Excerpt from “Singapore Town”
You could take a little trip around Singapore town
In Singapore city busTo see Collyer Quay and Raffles Place
The Esplanade and all of us
Because in Singapore, Singapore
Their hearts are big and wide you'll find
Because in Singapore, Singapore
You'll find happiness (cha, cha, cha)
For everyone
It is such a simple, happy little tune that my mood is almost always invariably lifted whenever it plays in my head. And makes me feel exceptionally nationalistic. It is easy to feel nationalistic and proud when I am at the Esplanade for some reason.
This weekend, I was at the Esplanade for a performance by the Moscow Soloists with the Moscow State Chamber Choir, with director and viola soloist Yuri Bashmet.
The moment I sat down in the concert hall and cracked open the program, I knew I had made a major mistake.
Three performances had been programmed for the Moscow State Chamber Choir and the Moscow Soloists. The first evening was a full choral performance by the Moscow State Chamber Choir, the second, a joint concert by both the choir and soloist and the last, a full instrumental performance by the Moscow Soloist. I had opted for the one-show-see-all, best-of-both-worlds, sampling plate approach and chosen to attend the second evening’s program. It so happened that the programming for the second evening was, in my opinion, the worst of the three days, and instead of the best of both worlds, I kind of ended with a poor compromise. On hindsight, I should have chosen to go for the first and third program instead of the joint one, if I had wanted to hear the two groups perform in all their glory. But we all know what they say about hindsight.
To be fair, it was hardly a badly executed performance at all. It was just that the programming did not suit my taste and objectives at all.
The Moscow Soloists had the show to themselves for the entire first half. My heart sank to my feet when I spied the first piece, “Concerto in D for Strings” by Igor Stravinsky. Friends who know me well know that I literally run at the mere mention of Stravinsky, after a disastrous run-in with “The Rite of Spring” years ago. I do not wonder that the initial audience was horrified at the work, because that was precisely my reaction even hundreds of years later. I only found it amazing that Stravinsky managed to achieve or maintain any kind of fame at all after that piece debuted, and William Hung’s record feat kind of made sense after that.
Thankfully though, the “Concerto in D for Strings” is a comparatively milder piece and brings to mind initially of a lazy summer afternoon by the lake initially. I found it rather enjoyable, but nothing spectacular. However, I was frankly just grateful enough to avoid shades of “The Rite of Spring” .
The “Adagio in B Minor for Viola and Strings” from Op. 115 by Brahms was next, with Yuri Bashmet himself performing the viola solo. The music is passionate and lyrical and the viola solo was nicely done, but it did not raise any goose-pimples moments for me.
The last piece before the intermission was a set of three film scores arranged for strings, by composer Toru Takemitsu, comprising “Music of Training and Rest”, from the film Jose Torres, “Funeral Music” from Black Rain, and “Waltz” from Face of Arthur. It was a rather short piece, and rather interesting and well executed. But I always find film music, when performed by itself away from the context of the film, lack a certain depth and relevance and makes it rather forgettable. I confess now that while I enjoyed the music at the time of playing, I have totally forgotten what it sounds like now.
I have never been a huge fan of strings, especially in chamber settings. I had fully expected the entire concert to be joint performances by the Moscow State Choir and the Soloists. Listening to only the string ensemble, combined with the low key programming, the first half of the show passed in a rather yawn inducing manner for me.
There was finally some singing after the intermission. The first piece was a Mozart (Exsultate, Jubilate, K. 165) soprano aria. As a general rule, I do not really like soprano voices, as I find them grating on the ears. But the soprano soloist who performed that night had a very mellow voice, and her control was superb and effortless. I did feel that the orchestra overpowered her at points but in general, it was very well done.
Incidentally, I did not realize that a wind quartet had been included in the instrumentation until the end of the piece, which caused me moments of bewilderedness as I tried desperately to identify the obviously non-string sounds.
The last piece of the concert was what I had been waiting for, Schubert’s “Mass No. 2 in G Major for Mixed Chorus and Strings, D.167”. The Mass No. 2 is one of Schubert’s most congenial choral works and it certainly sounded that way. The choir performed the work most exuberantly and warmly and I was all but drowning in the sea of beautiful voices. There is a lovely trio in the fifth movement of the work, and the soloists were fantastic. The soprano was somewhat brighter sounding than the one who sang the Mozart, and balanced very nicely with the bass, who had superb projection. It was a pity that the tenor voice was quite drowned out by the other two, though he had a lovely voice and wonderful control, when I could hear him, that is. But over all, this was the best work of the night by far, and I believe that I was not the only one in the audience to think so.
I was actually kind of disgusted that the both encore pieces featured only the Moscow Soloists and Yuri Bashmet, and not the choir. It was after all supposed to be a joint concert, and I had wanted one more chance to hear the singing. I didn’t even manage to purchase any CD recordings of the choir, though I understood that they were being sold on the first night. Argh!
Incidentally, EP attended the first evening’s performance and JW, being more instrumentally inclined, attended the last. EP was mostly raves about the first performance, although he did mention that the overly passionate interpretation of some of the classical works were perhaps not too suitable. However, the choir excelled at their native Russian folk-inspired music, which is not surprising really. I just wished I had made a better choice now.
My gripe of the day? That the organizers should really publish the program before ticket sales, so that we, the audience, are able to make better selections more suited to our personal preferences.
On a side note, PM Lee and his wife was sitting a few rows in front of me during the concert. That was probably the closest encounter I would ever have to such august personage. The reactions of the people sitting close to them were quite amusing to watch.
I overheard the lady sitting beside me commenting “Look, his bodyguard is there.” I quickly looked around, hoping for glimpses of suave men in black with dark glasses and ear pieces, one hand on their weapons in their suit jackets…..and I looked and looked, but didn’t see any. What bodyguards? Then I spotted the PM’s security detail. One of them was sitting right behind him, while another two were standing by the entry ways….and I guess I could be forgiven for overlooking their presence. They were dressed in plain white short sleeve, island style cut shirt, tucked out with black pants, no sun glasses. They remind me of those bus driver uncles before the bus company spiffied up the drivers’ uniforms. They look more like the house ushers than the ushers themselves. One would have thought that with all the risk these guys are taking, the government would at least spring for a good Brook Brothers suit and Raybans for them. At least give some class to the PM entourage….
Oh, and they were giving out free bottles of Coke Lite. At least it was diet soda….
Between the celebrity sighting and the Coke Lite, the evening was not a total loss after all. But I just wished that my $36.75 had been better spent….
Excerpt from “Singapore Town”
You could take a little trip around Singapore town
In Singapore city busTo see Collyer Quay and Raffles Place
The Esplanade and all of us
Because in Singapore, Singapore
Their hearts are big and wide you'll find
Because in Singapore, Singapore
You'll find happiness (cha, cha, cha)
For everyone
It is such a simple, happy little tune that my mood is almost always invariably lifted whenever it plays in my head. And makes me feel exceptionally nationalistic. It is easy to feel nationalistic and proud when I am at the Esplanade for some reason.
This weekend, I was at the Esplanade for a performance by the Moscow Soloists with the Moscow State Chamber Choir, with director and viola soloist Yuri Bashmet.
The moment I sat down in the concert hall and cracked open the program, I knew I had made a major mistake.
Three performances had been programmed for the Moscow State Chamber Choir and the Moscow Soloists. The first evening was a full choral performance by the Moscow State Chamber Choir, the second, a joint concert by both the choir and soloist and the last, a full instrumental performance by the Moscow Soloist. I had opted for the one-show-see-all, best-of-both-worlds, sampling plate approach and chosen to attend the second evening’s program. It so happened that the programming for the second evening was, in my opinion, the worst of the three days, and instead of the best of both worlds, I kind of ended with a poor compromise. On hindsight, I should have chosen to go for the first and third program instead of the joint one, if I had wanted to hear the two groups perform in all their glory. But we all know what they say about hindsight.
To be fair, it was hardly a badly executed performance at all. It was just that the programming did not suit my taste and objectives at all.
The Moscow Soloists had the show to themselves for the entire first half. My heart sank to my feet when I spied the first piece, “Concerto in D for Strings” by Igor Stravinsky. Friends who know me well know that I literally run at the mere mention of Stravinsky, after a disastrous run-in with “The Rite of Spring” years ago. I do not wonder that the initial audience was horrified at the work, because that was precisely my reaction even hundreds of years later. I only found it amazing that Stravinsky managed to achieve or maintain any kind of fame at all after that piece debuted, and William Hung’s record feat kind of made sense after that.
Thankfully though, the “Concerto in D for Strings” is a comparatively milder piece and brings to mind initially of a lazy summer afternoon by the lake initially. I found it rather enjoyable, but nothing spectacular. However, I was frankly just grateful enough to avoid shades of “The Rite of Spring” .
The “Adagio in B Minor for Viola and Strings” from Op. 115 by Brahms was next, with Yuri Bashmet himself performing the viola solo. The music is passionate and lyrical and the viola solo was nicely done, but it did not raise any goose-pimples moments for me.
The last piece before the intermission was a set of three film scores arranged for strings, by composer Toru Takemitsu, comprising “Music of Training and Rest”, from the film Jose Torres, “Funeral Music” from Black Rain, and “Waltz” from Face of Arthur. It was a rather short piece, and rather interesting and well executed. But I always find film music, when performed by itself away from the context of the film, lack a certain depth and relevance and makes it rather forgettable. I confess now that while I enjoyed the music at the time of playing, I have totally forgotten what it sounds like now.
I have never been a huge fan of strings, especially in chamber settings. I had fully expected the entire concert to be joint performances by the Moscow State Choir and the Soloists. Listening to only the string ensemble, combined with the low key programming, the first half of the show passed in a rather yawn inducing manner for me.
There was finally some singing after the intermission. The first piece was a Mozart (Exsultate, Jubilate, K. 165) soprano aria. As a general rule, I do not really like soprano voices, as I find them grating on the ears. But the soprano soloist who performed that night had a very mellow voice, and her control was superb and effortless. I did feel that the orchestra overpowered her at points but in general, it was very well done.
Incidentally, I did not realize that a wind quartet had been included in the instrumentation until the end of the piece, which caused me moments of bewilderedness as I tried desperately to identify the obviously non-string sounds.
The last piece of the concert was what I had been waiting for, Schubert’s “Mass No. 2 in G Major for Mixed Chorus and Strings, D.167”. The Mass No. 2 is one of Schubert’s most congenial choral works and it certainly sounded that way. The choir performed the work most exuberantly and warmly and I was all but drowning in the sea of beautiful voices. There is a lovely trio in the fifth movement of the work, and the soloists were fantastic. The soprano was somewhat brighter sounding than the one who sang the Mozart, and balanced very nicely with the bass, who had superb projection. It was a pity that the tenor voice was quite drowned out by the other two, though he had a lovely voice and wonderful control, when I could hear him, that is. But over all, this was the best work of the night by far, and I believe that I was not the only one in the audience to think so.
I was actually kind of disgusted that the both encore pieces featured only the Moscow Soloists and Yuri Bashmet, and not the choir. It was after all supposed to be a joint concert, and I had wanted one more chance to hear the singing. I didn’t even manage to purchase any CD recordings of the choir, though I understood that they were being sold on the first night. Argh!
Incidentally, EP attended the first evening’s performance and JW, being more instrumentally inclined, attended the last. EP was mostly raves about the first performance, although he did mention that the overly passionate interpretation of some of the classical works were perhaps not too suitable. However, the choir excelled at their native Russian folk-inspired music, which is not surprising really. I just wished I had made a better choice now.
My gripe of the day? That the organizers should really publish the program before ticket sales, so that we, the audience, are able to make better selections more suited to our personal preferences.
On a side note, PM Lee and his wife was sitting a few rows in front of me during the concert. That was probably the closest encounter I would ever have to such august personage. The reactions of the people sitting close to them were quite amusing to watch.
I overheard the lady sitting beside me commenting “Look, his bodyguard is there.” I quickly looked around, hoping for glimpses of suave men in black with dark glasses and ear pieces, one hand on their weapons in their suit jackets…..and I looked and looked, but didn’t see any. What bodyguards? Then I spotted the PM’s security detail. One of them was sitting right behind him, while another two were standing by the entry ways….and I guess I could be forgiven for overlooking their presence. They were dressed in plain white short sleeve, island style cut shirt, tucked out with black pants, no sun glasses. They remind me of those bus driver uncles before the bus company spiffied up the drivers’ uniforms. They look more like the house ushers than the ushers themselves. One would have thought that with all the risk these guys are taking, the government would at least spring for a good Brook Brothers suit and Raybans for them. At least give some class to the PM entourage….
Oh, and they were giving out free bottles of Coke Lite. At least it was diet soda….
Between the celebrity sighting and the Coke Lite, the evening was not a total loss after all. But I just wished that my $36.75 had been better spent….
Sunday, 7 June 2009
FROM THE QING DYNASTY TO THE FRENCH REGENCY
I am not a particular fan of theatre.
That said, I do not mind attending the odd theatre production now and then, when they happen to suit my personal preferences.
It so happens that there is nothing very much happening on the music front for this year’s Arts Festival, so I decided to give some of the plays a chance.
The Crab Flower Club, by Toy Factory Productions Ltd, is a story set in the Qing Dynasty. Five women came forth to celebrate the 60th birthday of their family patriarch, armed with twin missions – to prepare a lavish banquet with the famous Yang Cheng Lake hairy crab as the centerpiece, and to set up a private all-woman poetry club.
There was, as expected with such a storyline, an underlying theme of modern feminism versus the traditional constraints of the female sphere, a story that has been told in many ways and portrayed in many forms.
The premise of this particular production was the use of literacy and literature as the inspiration. To quote the program notes: Words are seasoned with wit and sautéed with hidden emotions….beautifully revealed in each dialogue are rich interpretative possibilities as well as meaningful contrasts.
Indeed. I can find no better description.
The story revolves around the setting up of a poetry club, so poems are inevitable. The English translations of the poems were beautifully done, and managed to capture the essence of the originals for most part. However, as an effectively bilingual person, I did wish that the poems at least could have been rendered in their original language. The poems have an entire dimension in Chinese, for want of a better word, that seems to be missing when translated. Every word is so carefully chosen and comes together so seamlessly as part of a bigger tapestry. There is a musicality in the words themselves, even if the meaning is not immediately accessible. And I have always admired the succinctness of the Chinese language – so little words say so much.
That is but nitpicking though. There is not much to criticize about the production, as least from the view point of a rank amateur in theatre arts. The actresses had been well casted, and their deliveries were powerful and moving. Movements were obviously carefully and delicately choreographed, and greatly enhanced the visual impact of the whole show. Costumes were beautifully done up, and I understand that even the shoes were specially designed so that the actresses could more accurately and consistently portray the mincing steps of feet-bound Qing women. Ingenious.
The Crab Flower Club - a worthwhile way to spend my time and money.
Les Précieuses Ridicules, a one-act satire by playwright Moliere in prose, presented by Theatre Du Kronope, is a totally different act.
Plot – The story is about two young women, Magdelon and Cathos, from the provinces, who have come to Paris in search of love, or more accurately, the idea of love, which appeared to have been garnered from silly novels. They rejected a pair of eminently eligible young men whom Gorgibus, the father of Magelon and uncle of Cathos decide they should marry, but whom they considered ungallant and unrefined.
Their rejection so stung the men that they vowed to take revenge on the girls. They achieve this having their valets pose as sophisticated nobles embodying all the fine points that the two girls deem an acceptable suitor should have, and for them to court the girls with devices that the girls, in their shallowness and naïveté, will deem romantic.
The show ends with the valets being exposed (literally) for who they are, and the young ladies being mocked for their puffed-up provincial naïveté and self esteem.
A very simple and straightforward plot and a kind of bizarre performance.
The first of the bizarreness that struck me was the music. It was an alternating mix of twentieth century tonal orchestral composition and loud modern disco pop, both of which were wholly unexpected, especially the latter. The costumes were next, a colourful and exaggerated mish-mash of styles. Then, there were the face masks and make up, which were again, exaggerated and were somewhat morbidly attractive in their own way. Lastly, the delivery and choreograph was, for most part, done slap-stick style, and yet again, had their own attractiveness, in a cheapish, satirist way. The whole production brings to mind those satirical caricatures of celebrities that one often finds in newspapers.
Since the play was in French, English subtitles were provided on a screen located above the stage. As we were sitting on one side of the stage, it got a bit tedious to switch between the screen and the action down below, which did not exactly enhance the experience. In addition, since the play was set during the Regency period, the translated dialogue also read like a Regency novel, with long, slightly convoluted sentences. Having to digest all that prose within seconds while keeping one eye on the action gave me a bit of a headache.
Overall, the play was entertaining, and a little overwhelming at parts. I can’t say I like it, but I don’t think I hate it. One thing is for sure – I won’t forget it in a hurry.
That said, I do not mind attending the odd theatre production now and then, when they happen to suit my personal preferences.
It so happens that there is nothing very much happening on the music front for this year’s Arts Festival, so I decided to give some of the plays a chance.
The Crab Flower Club, by Toy Factory Productions Ltd, is a story set in the Qing Dynasty. Five women came forth to celebrate the 60th birthday of their family patriarch, armed with twin missions – to prepare a lavish banquet with the famous Yang Cheng Lake hairy crab as the centerpiece, and to set up a private all-woman poetry club.
There was, as expected with such a storyline, an underlying theme of modern feminism versus the traditional constraints of the female sphere, a story that has been told in many ways and portrayed in many forms.
The premise of this particular production was the use of literacy and literature as the inspiration. To quote the program notes: Words are seasoned with wit and sautéed with hidden emotions….beautifully revealed in each dialogue are rich interpretative possibilities as well as meaningful contrasts.
Indeed. I can find no better description.
The story revolves around the setting up of a poetry club, so poems are inevitable. The English translations of the poems were beautifully done, and managed to capture the essence of the originals for most part. However, as an effectively bilingual person, I did wish that the poems at least could have been rendered in their original language. The poems have an entire dimension in Chinese, for want of a better word, that seems to be missing when translated. Every word is so carefully chosen and comes together so seamlessly as part of a bigger tapestry. There is a musicality in the words themselves, even if the meaning is not immediately accessible. And I have always admired the succinctness of the Chinese language – so little words say so much.
That is but nitpicking though. There is not much to criticize about the production, as least from the view point of a rank amateur in theatre arts. The actresses had been well casted, and their deliveries were powerful and moving. Movements were obviously carefully and delicately choreographed, and greatly enhanced the visual impact of the whole show. Costumes were beautifully done up, and I understand that even the shoes were specially designed so that the actresses could more accurately and consistently portray the mincing steps of feet-bound Qing women. Ingenious.
The Crab Flower Club - a worthwhile way to spend my time and money.
Les Précieuses Ridicules, a one-act satire by playwright Moliere in prose, presented by Theatre Du Kronope, is a totally different act.
Plot – The story is about two young women, Magdelon and Cathos, from the provinces, who have come to Paris in search of love, or more accurately, the idea of love, which appeared to have been garnered from silly novels. They rejected a pair of eminently eligible young men whom Gorgibus, the father of Magelon and uncle of Cathos decide they should marry, but whom they considered ungallant and unrefined.
Their rejection so stung the men that they vowed to take revenge on the girls. They achieve this having their valets pose as sophisticated nobles embodying all the fine points that the two girls deem an acceptable suitor should have, and for them to court the girls with devices that the girls, in their shallowness and naïveté, will deem romantic.
The show ends with the valets being exposed (literally) for who they are, and the young ladies being mocked for their puffed-up provincial naïveté and self esteem.
A very simple and straightforward plot and a kind of bizarre performance.
The first of the bizarreness that struck me was the music. It was an alternating mix of twentieth century tonal orchestral composition and loud modern disco pop, both of which were wholly unexpected, especially the latter. The costumes were next, a colourful and exaggerated mish-mash of styles. Then, there were the face masks and make up, which were again, exaggerated and were somewhat morbidly attractive in their own way. Lastly, the delivery and choreograph was, for most part, done slap-stick style, and yet again, had their own attractiveness, in a cheapish, satirist way. The whole production brings to mind those satirical caricatures of celebrities that one often finds in newspapers.
Since the play was in French, English subtitles were provided on a screen located above the stage. As we were sitting on one side of the stage, it got a bit tedious to switch between the screen and the action down below, which did not exactly enhance the experience. In addition, since the play was set during the Regency period, the translated dialogue also read like a Regency novel, with long, slightly convoluted sentences. Having to digest all that prose within seconds while keeping one eye on the action gave me a bit of a headache.
Overall, the play was entertaining, and a little overwhelming at parts. I can’t say I like it, but I don’t think I hate it. One thing is for sure – I won’t forget it in a hurry.
Saturday, 18 April 2009
SINGAPORE CHINESE ORCHESTRA - TREASURES OF JAPAN
After weeks of work-gym-home routine, I finally managed a little foray into some culture, and in the process felt a little more in touch with civilisation and less like a muscle-bound (NOT!) jock.
Attended a performance by the Singapore Chinese Orchestra (SCO) on Friday evening - Treasures of Japan. The SCO performed four Japanese-inspired/composed pieces, namely:-
Spring of Japan (扶桑之春) by composer Lo Leung Fai
Dance of the Firmament (天空之舞) by composer Isao Matsushita
Monk Jianzhen Sailing Eastward (东渡.鉴真大和尚) by composer Zhao Ji Ping
Hi-Ten-Yu (飞天游) by composer Isao Matsushita
It was a generally passably executed performance by the SCO, with weird boo-boos here and there (instrumental sections not in rhythm etc).
Spring of Japan, a dizu (Chinese flute) concerto, was your typical minor key Japanese tune, nicely turned out, but kind of bland and unexciting after the first 30 seconds. There was no real mood change or climax in the piece, just the dizu solo swinging happily along. After a while, I kind of tuned out and daydreamed about other things, and when my mind and senses returned to the music, I realised the music was more or less at the same place where I left it, and I didn't miss much, if anything at all. I also did think that the the sound of the dizu was a little too bright for the piece, and would have preferred something a little more wild, like the shakuhachi. But then this is only my preference. EP and JW, who attended the concert together with me, liked it the way it was.
Dance of the Firmament featured shakuhachi (a recorder-like instrument with a very airy....or eerie tone) soloists (father and son team Yamamoto Hozan and Yamamoto Shinzan) in a concerto-like setting. It was not exactly my type of music, being one of those pieces without a discernable melody and being rather tonal and atmospheric in nature, albeit with a Japanese setting. The shakuhachi was interesting to listen to for a while, for afterall, it was something new in my radar. Most of the solo sounded exactly like sound effects from one of those B-grade Hong Kong vampire movies, you know, when the vampire catchers are in the forest in the dark of the night looking for those bunny hopping vampires. But one can only take so much of vampire movie sound effects before one.....dozes off.
Monk Jianzhen Sailing Eastward was also a shakuhachi solo piece (Yamamoto Shinzan), but easier on the ears compared with Dance. I liked the use of percussion in this piece, which gave a marked contrast to the generally "rhythmless" runaway style of playing of the shakuhachi and provided a much needed point of focus (I thought). There was this interesting part in the piece that sounded like the chanting of the monks, but was actually an effect produced by some of the plucked strings. It was so realistic that I was actually trying to figure out who the chanters were, before JW corrected my misconception. The middle portion was this Chinese sounding melody, probably depicting Monk Jianzhen (being a Chinese monk or something), but which again reminded us all of some cheesy Chinese movie music - either very stereotypical writing, or some obscure witty tongue-in-cheek reference, not sure.
The piece de resistance of the concert was the last piece, Hi-Ten-Yu, which featured Wadaiko soloist Eitetsu Hayashi. Apparently, he is one of the pioneer soloist of this new style of Wadaiko playing. I have no idea of the difference between this new style and the traditional style in terms of musicality though. All the program booklet yielded was that the new style "stresses technical excellence and physical stamina", and I am too lazy at the moment to do any additional research. Maybe later.
There is just something about drums in general that elicit very fundamental responses from the general population. It is no coincidence that almost all major civilisations have some form of percussion in their musical culture. Drumbeats have always been the heralds of war, the means of raising the blood in armies. Passionate dances. Rites and rituals. Drums have a place in them all.
It thus comes as no surprise that the audience reacted so enthusiastically to the Wadaiko performance. While I have no doubt that Eitetsu Hayashi is a master at his art, I am quite sure that any reasonably skilled Taiko drummer would have gotten similar reactions as well. That said, the perfomance was definitely a riveting show of virtuosity by Eitetsu Hayashi. It was a feast both for the ears as well as the eyes, for in addition to the myriad sound effects that he managed on the drums, resulting in a complete tapestry all on its own, the physical movements of the drumming were so graceful and beautifully orchestrated that it was a dance in itself. The orchestra accompaniment was kind of incidental as a result, because everyone was so caught up in the Wadaiko performance that no one really cared what the orchestra was playing, or even if it was playing or not.
Oh, and I can personally vouch for the "physical stamina" requirements in Wadaiko drumming. We are definitely talking about explosive, whole body movements here for high reps (sorry, the jock in me is surfacing). Talk about endurance events. Oh, and med ball slams step aside, Wadaiko is the way to go. I gather this is also why Eitetsu Hayashi looks 20 years younger than his actual age of 57, and has some reasonably sized arms to boot, and looks buff and sexy in his arm baring traditional dress. =)
Anyway, the response from the audience was so enthusiastic that he came back on stage for two encores, the first one with the shakuhachi soloists and the orchestra, and the second one a duet with his disciple (who had been sitting quietly at the back of the orchestra throughout the whole performance). And we were pretty amused by his disciple, a young Japanese man, probably in his early to mid twenties (?), very traditional in his actions and mien. He would walk only behind Eitetsu Hayashi, take bows only when Hayashi instructs him to, basically your very traditional respectful Japanese student. It was refreshing to see this, considering our present Singaporean society, where students treat their teachers more like peers.
It was a reasonably enjoyable performance on the whole, but it was also quite clear that it was the Wadaiko performance that made it so. No negative reflection on the performance of SCO or the shakuhachi soloists; the program was just not the type that would be immediately appreciated by the general public.
I have two more performances in June to attend (part of the Singapore Arts Festival). More cultural stuff then. Back to jock mode for now. Ciao.
Attended a performance by the Singapore Chinese Orchestra (SCO) on Friday evening - Treasures of Japan. The SCO performed four Japanese-inspired/composed pieces, namely:-
Spring of Japan (扶桑之春) by composer Lo Leung Fai
Dance of the Firmament (天空之舞) by composer Isao Matsushita
Monk Jianzhen Sailing Eastward (东渡.鉴真大和尚) by composer Zhao Ji Ping
Hi-Ten-Yu (飞天游) by composer Isao Matsushita
It was a generally passably executed performance by the SCO, with weird boo-boos here and there (instrumental sections not in rhythm etc).
Spring of Japan, a dizu (Chinese flute) concerto, was your typical minor key Japanese tune, nicely turned out, but kind of bland and unexciting after the first 30 seconds. There was no real mood change or climax in the piece, just the dizu solo swinging happily along. After a while, I kind of tuned out and daydreamed about other things, and when my mind and senses returned to the music, I realised the music was more or less at the same place where I left it, and I didn't miss much, if anything at all. I also did think that the the sound of the dizu was a little too bright for the piece, and would have preferred something a little more wild, like the shakuhachi. But then this is only my preference. EP and JW, who attended the concert together with me, liked it the way it was.
Dance of the Firmament featured shakuhachi (a recorder-like instrument with a very airy....or eerie tone) soloists (father and son team Yamamoto Hozan and Yamamoto Shinzan) in a concerto-like setting. It was not exactly my type of music, being one of those pieces without a discernable melody and being rather tonal and atmospheric in nature, albeit with a Japanese setting. The shakuhachi was interesting to listen to for a while, for afterall, it was something new in my radar. Most of the solo sounded exactly like sound effects from one of those B-grade Hong Kong vampire movies, you know, when the vampire catchers are in the forest in the dark of the night looking for those bunny hopping vampires. But one can only take so much of vampire movie sound effects before one.....dozes off.
Monk Jianzhen Sailing Eastward was also a shakuhachi solo piece (Yamamoto Shinzan), but easier on the ears compared with Dance. I liked the use of percussion in this piece, which gave a marked contrast to the generally "rhythmless" runaway style of playing of the shakuhachi and provided a much needed point of focus (I thought). There was this interesting part in the piece that sounded like the chanting of the monks, but was actually an effect produced by some of the plucked strings. It was so realistic that I was actually trying to figure out who the chanters were, before JW corrected my misconception. The middle portion was this Chinese sounding melody, probably depicting Monk Jianzhen (being a Chinese monk or something), but which again reminded us all of some cheesy Chinese movie music - either very stereotypical writing, or some obscure witty tongue-in-cheek reference, not sure.
The piece de resistance of the concert was the last piece, Hi-Ten-Yu, which featured Wadaiko soloist Eitetsu Hayashi. Apparently, he is one of the pioneer soloist of this new style of Wadaiko playing. I have no idea of the difference between this new style and the traditional style in terms of musicality though. All the program booklet yielded was that the new style "stresses technical excellence and physical stamina", and I am too lazy at the moment to do any additional research. Maybe later.
There is just something about drums in general that elicit very fundamental responses from the general population. It is no coincidence that almost all major civilisations have some form of percussion in their musical culture. Drumbeats have always been the heralds of war, the means of raising the blood in armies. Passionate dances. Rites and rituals. Drums have a place in them all.
It thus comes as no surprise that the audience reacted so enthusiastically to the Wadaiko performance. While I have no doubt that Eitetsu Hayashi is a master at his art, I am quite sure that any reasonably skilled Taiko drummer would have gotten similar reactions as well. That said, the perfomance was definitely a riveting show of virtuosity by Eitetsu Hayashi. It was a feast both for the ears as well as the eyes, for in addition to the myriad sound effects that he managed on the drums, resulting in a complete tapestry all on its own, the physical movements of the drumming were so graceful and beautifully orchestrated that it was a dance in itself. The orchestra accompaniment was kind of incidental as a result, because everyone was so caught up in the Wadaiko performance that no one really cared what the orchestra was playing, or even if it was playing or not.
Oh, and I can personally vouch for the "physical stamina" requirements in Wadaiko drumming. We are definitely talking about explosive, whole body movements here for high reps (sorry, the jock in me is surfacing). Talk about endurance events. Oh, and med ball slams step aside, Wadaiko is the way to go. I gather this is also why Eitetsu Hayashi looks 20 years younger than his actual age of 57, and has some reasonably sized arms to boot, and looks buff and sexy in his arm baring traditional dress. =)
Anyway, the response from the audience was so enthusiastic that he came back on stage for two encores, the first one with the shakuhachi soloists and the orchestra, and the second one a duet with his disciple (who had been sitting quietly at the back of the orchestra throughout the whole performance). And we were pretty amused by his disciple, a young Japanese man, probably in his early to mid twenties (?), very traditional in his actions and mien. He would walk only behind Eitetsu Hayashi, take bows only when Hayashi instructs him to, basically your very traditional respectful Japanese student. It was refreshing to see this, considering our present Singaporean society, where students treat their teachers more like peers.
It was a reasonably enjoyable performance on the whole, but it was also quite clear that it was the Wadaiko performance that made it so. No negative reflection on the performance of SCO or the shakuhachi soloists; the program was just not the type that would be immediately appreciated by the general public.
I have two more performances in June to attend (part of the Singapore Arts Festival). More cultural stuff then. Back to jock mode for now. Ciao.
Sunday, 22 June 2008
LORD OF THE RINGS - AGAIN
I finally finished re-watching the Lord of the Rings trilogy on VCD tonight.
The urge to re-watch the movies was kindled some weeks ago after attending the Singapore premier of the Lord of the Rings Symphony by the Singapore Festival Orchestra (SFO).
The symphony itself was nothing to write home about, though the performance itself was reasonably competent. The re-arrangement by Howard Shore comprises of six movements, which tries to chart the progress of the story chronologically through the music. The elements which made up the symphony were basically extracts from the original sound-track which were woven together to form the symphony.
Each movement ended very abruptly, with no proper finish or lead into the next movement. The audience was left looking at each other with blank faces with the same thought “Huh? That’s it?”. The same few themes repeated themselves at various points throughout the symphony, and with no movie sequences to provide any context, it becomes tedious by the nth time the tunes were repeated. The whole symphony lasted almost two whole hours, and Howard Shore even included that last poppish sounding track played during the credits roll. By then, I was squirming in my seat and praying for deliverance. One needs a lot of stamina to sit through the entire symphony. I personally think there was zero value-add in the symphony version of the sound track; and that Howard Shore should have left well alone.
Despite all the shortfalls of the writing, the symphony did bring back memories of the movie, which I last re-watched about two years back. The urge to watch it again did not diminish even days after the concert, so I finally sat down two Saturdays ago and started on “The Fellowship of the Ring” and finished the entire trilogy about two hours ago.
Re-watching the movie brings back to mind how differently the book and the movie affected me. The book was mired in details, the storyline weaving back and forth, not only in the present third age, but also of ages past. Even as I struggled to the keep all those details straight, I could not help but admire Tolkien’s thoroughness in the laying out and explaining his imaginary world from its creation to present day. The book focused a lot on each individual’s thought processes and feelings, and the history behind each and every event. One got the chance to understand why each character acted the way they did and why certain events turned out a certain way. There was basically a lot of scope for scholarly post-mortems.
However, the details overwhelmed me sometimes, and reading all those details about Frodo’s trials and tribulations and his physical and mental struggles, which was the main focus in “The Two Towers”, got so depressing and tedious, I made it through only with a lot of page skipping. While the “adventure story” portions and battle scenes were well told and well described, I didn’t get the same excitement and sense of urgency that I got from watching the movie, especially those epic battles. The impact of visual images cannot be denied.
Although very much clichéd, the elements of good over evil, hope and love, friendship and loyalty, grit and integrity etc etc didn’t come across with such impact in the book as compared to the movie, though it actually forms the entire basis of the story. I suspect all the history lessons and character psychoanalyses in the book distracted me from thinking too much about these things, or perhaps they were just too subtly done in the book, I don’t know. Whatever, the reason, the movie was clearly focused on these so-called cliché elements, to great effectiveness, since there was nothing much else to detract from it. However, it does seem to make the movie rather shallow and surface, especially to those who have read the books.
In my opinion, having read the book a long time ago (time enough for parts of it to fade), then watching the movie, is the best way to enjoy the best of both. One gets to enjoy the visual feast that is the movie with full understanding of the motives with all the “historical” references from the book, and without those small details from the book to render one critical of every small omission or inaccuracy, and detracting from the enjoyment of the movie.
My greatest pleasure in watching the movie is seeing middle earth brought to life and thinking “That’s exactly how I imagined it to be!” throughout the whole show. It makes the story so real to me. For every of those nine to ten hours spent watching the movie, my surroundings cease to exist. I am living in middle earth. I am living each and every one of those battles. Every time each installment ends, I return to my surroundings with a jolt, rather like an out-of-body experience. Very intense stuff.
Incidentally, the sense of reality that the movie gives me is the reason why I have never had the slightest wish to try the computer game version of Lord of the Rings, despite the great reviews and my love for real time strategy games. In the game, the player is responsible to build up the various armies with limited resources and defeat the Dark Lord Sauron, rather like living Aragon’s situation in the movie, I believe.
What if I failed?
I can’t even bear thinking about it.
So let those who are able do the fighting and the winning. I will just sit back and immerse myself in the Middle Earth of my imagination.
The urge to re-watch the movies was kindled some weeks ago after attending the Singapore premier of the Lord of the Rings Symphony by the Singapore Festival Orchestra (SFO).
The symphony itself was nothing to write home about, though the performance itself was reasonably competent. The re-arrangement by Howard Shore comprises of six movements, which tries to chart the progress of the story chronologically through the music. The elements which made up the symphony were basically extracts from the original sound-track which were woven together to form the symphony.
Each movement ended very abruptly, with no proper finish or lead into the next movement. The audience was left looking at each other with blank faces with the same thought “Huh? That’s it?”. The same few themes repeated themselves at various points throughout the symphony, and with no movie sequences to provide any context, it becomes tedious by the nth time the tunes were repeated. The whole symphony lasted almost two whole hours, and Howard Shore even included that last poppish sounding track played during the credits roll. By then, I was squirming in my seat and praying for deliverance. One needs a lot of stamina to sit through the entire symphony. I personally think there was zero value-add in the symphony version of the sound track; and that Howard Shore should have left well alone.
Despite all the shortfalls of the writing, the symphony did bring back memories of the movie, which I last re-watched about two years back. The urge to watch it again did not diminish even days after the concert, so I finally sat down two Saturdays ago and started on “The Fellowship of the Ring” and finished the entire trilogy about two hours ago.
Re-watching the movie brings back to mind how differently the book and the movie affected me. The book was mired in details, the storyline weaving back and forth, not only in the present third age, but also of ages past. Even as I struggled to the keep all those details straight, I could not help but admire Tolkien’s thoroughness in the laying out and explaining his imaginary world from its creation to present day. The book focused a lot on each individual’s thought processes and feelings, and the history behind each and every event. One got the chance to understand why each character acted the way they did and why certain events turned out a certain way. There was basically a lot of scope for scholarly post-mortems.
However, the details overwhelmed me sometimes, and reading all those details about Frodo’s trials and tribulations and his physical and mental struggles, which was the main focus in “The Two Towers”, got so depressing and tedious, I made it through only with a lot of page skipping. While the “adventure story” portions and battle scenes were well told and well described, I didn’t get the same excitement and sense of urgency that I got from watching the movie, especially those epic battles. The impact of visual images cannot be denied.
Although very much clichéd, the elements of good over evil, hope and love, friendship and loyalty, grit and integrity etc etc didn’t come across with such impact in the book as compared to the movie, though it actually forms the entire basis of the story. I suspect all the history lessons and character psychoanalyses in the book distracted me from thinking too much about these things, or perhaps they were just too subtly done in the book, I don’t know. Whatever, the reason, the movie was clearly focused on these so-called cliché elements, to great effectiveness, since there was nothing much else to detract from it. However, it does seem to make the movie rather shallow and surface, especially to those who have read the books.
In my opinion, having read the book a long time ago (time enough for parts of it to fade), then watching the movie, is the best way to enjoy the best of both. One gets to enjoy the visual feast that is the movie with full understanding of the motives with all the “historical” references from the book, and without those small details from the book to render one critical of every small omission or inaccuracy, and detracting from the enjoyment of the movie.
My greatest pleasure in watching the movie is seeing middle earth brought to life and thinking “That’s exactly how I imagined it to be!” throughout the whole show. It makes the story so real to me. For every of those nine to ten hours spent watching the movie, my surroundings cease to exist. I am living in middle earth. I am living each and every one of those battles. Every time each installment ends, I return to my surroundings with a jolt, rather like an out-of-body experience. Very intense stuff.
Incidentally, the sense of reality that the movie gives me is the reason why I have never had the slightest wish to try the computer game version of Lord of the Rings, despite the great reviews and my love for real time strategy games. In the game, the player is responsible to build up the various armies with limited resources and defeat the Dark Lord Sauron, rather like living Aragon’s situation in the movie, I believe.
What if I failed?
I can’t even bear thinking about it.
So let those who are able do the fighting and the winning. I will just sit back and immerse myself in the Middle Earth of my imagination.
Thursday, 20 December 2007
ARTS GROUP TICKET SELLING PRACTICES - A RANT & AN APOLOGY
Just had an unintentional argument with a member of a well-established local choral group and needed to get some rants off my chest.
The disagreement was over the issue of the choir mass selling tickets to school and personal friends and relatives. My understanding of the ticket selling practice of this group was that the selling was two fold. Members were expected to meet certain quotas in ticket sales, while the remaining would be made up by the public sales through the ticketing service, SISTIC. My guess is that there would be certain “performance pressure” on the members to meet and exceed the quota.
This choral group has among its members, a number of choir instructors who teach at various local school choirs. From past experience during their concerts, it appears that the students from these school choirs make up the main body of the choir’s audience. I would hazard a guess at 70-80% of the concert hall available seating. It does not seem unreasonable to extrapolate the relation between the required quota and the sales to the students of these members.
This is not exactly a bad state of affairs. For one, it is definitely a good thing that the choir students are exposed to a higher level of choral expertise and I believe that the schools or the student’s education fund may be paying for this, so it doesn’t financially affect the students. But I do wonder if this well-establish choral group is taking advantage of this “easy” sales from the school choirs and not doing more to publicize and reach out to the general public who has no direct links to the group.
I used to be actively involved in the amateur performing arts scene as well and hold the opinion (along with a few other friends) that in order for performing arts to flourish locally, performing groups need to move away from the “force-feeding” method of selling tickets and move towards letting “market forces” determine the “demand” for the tickets. Performing group members need to ensure that the quality of the performances is as high as they are able to achieve, not busy trying to sell tickets to their nearest and dearest and getting stressed about it into the bargain. Arts managers (or committees of amateur groups) need to focus on influencing the “market forces” rather than the “demand” directly, whether through public education, better publicity or other means.
The practice of selling concert tickets to their own school choir students seem to be a means of “force feeding” in my opinion, and coming from the instructors of the choir themselves, may seem a little biased and also rather too commercially oriented. I do wonder if these choir instructors do as much to promote concerts of other performing groups where they have no affiliation. Ditto for those other members who sell their tickets to their own friends and relatives.
Also, the fact that the tickets get sold to the same group of people every concert simply means that less of the general public would be aware of the presence of the group itself or even the presence of a choral music scene locally. It would always be a closed “insider” circle, and contributes nothing to the growth of the local performing arts scene. Commercially, spending some opportunity cost (in lost ticket sales to “insider” circles) to try and reach out to the bigger public may be a more commercially sound move in the long run.
If it had been any other amateur group, I would definitely have been less critical of this practice, since I fully understand the difficulty of ticket selling and covering costs in a country where performing arts is still relatively unsupported at the even at the professional level, not to mention semi-professional or amateur groups. Many amateur groups are simply not well known enough to attract enough audience by their reputation alone, and also do not have the funds to engage in major publicity exercises. My own group died a natural death after two not very well attended concerts where we tried not to rely on “enforced members selling”. Well, I can, at least, say we tried.
However, for the group in question, other than being relatively well established and having a loyal following, I understand that they are also reasonably active in their various other activities like recordings and private bookings, and various other types of sponsorship, to ensure a reasonably healthy funding. In my humble opinion, they are in a better position to lead the way in the abolishing of this system of “enforced members selling” for a concert or two and experiment with the selling of tickets solely through public means and more involved publicity, without suffering major loss in ticket sales. Practicing “enforced members selling” at this stage of their development only appear to bring this group to the same level as any other secondary school choir (whose members have to canvass their friends for “support”), and is perhaps not the expectations of a leading group in the local choral music scene.
Of course, to be fair, this is the state of affairs not only for this particular choral group, but also many other local established performing groups in various genres. It is further exacerbated by the fact that the various public ticketing services will only do so much and no more to promote and publicize non-big ticket concerts, even though publicity is one of their services when they have been contracted. I certainly understand the constraints, and can even emphathise, but like I mentioned, certain groups are in a position to do more and change the status quo.
Well, I do apologise to said member if my comments had offended, and I firmly believe that we can take an “agree to disagree” approach to this.
The disagreement was over the issue of the choir mass selling tickets to school and personal friends and relatives. My understanding of the ticket selling practice of this group was that the selling was two fold. Members were expected to meet certain quotas in ticket sales, while the remaining would be made up by the public sales through the ticketing service, SISTIC. My guess is that there would be certain “performance pressure” on the members to meet and exceed the quota.
This choral group has among its members, a number of choir instructors who teach at various local school choirs. From past experience during their concerts, it appears that the students from these school choirs make up the main body of the choir’s audience. I would hazard a guess at 70-80% of the concert hall available seating. It does not seem unreasonable to extrapolate the relation between the required quota and the sales to the students of these members.
This is not exactly a bad state of affairs. For one, it is definitely a good thing that the choir students are exposed to a higher level of choral expertise and I believe that the schools or the student’s education fund may be paying for this, so it doesn’t financially affect the students. But I do wonder if this well-establish choral group is taking advantage of this “easy” sales from the school choirs and not doing more to publicize and reach out to the general public who has no direct links to the group.
I used to be actively involved in the amateur performing arts scene as well and hold the opinion (along with a few other friends) that in order for performing arts to flourish locally, performing groups need to move away from the “force-feeding” method of selling tickets and move towards letting “market forces” determine the “demand” for the tickets. Performing group members need to ensure that the quality of the performances is as high as they are able to achieve, not busy trying to sell tickets to their nearest and dearest and getting stressed about it into the bargain. Arts managers (or committees of amateur groups) need to focus on influencing the “market forces” rather than the “demand” directly, whether through public education, better publicity or other means.
The practice of selling concert tickets to their own school choir students seem to be a means of “force feeding” in my opinion, and coming from the instructors of the choir themselves, may seem a little biased and also rather too commercially oriented. I do wonder if these choir instructors do as much to promote concerts of other performing groups where they have no affiliation. Ditto for those other members who sell their tickets to their own friends and relatives.
Also, the fact that the tickets get sold to the same group of people every concert simply means that less of the general public would be aware of the presence of the group itself or even the presence of a choral music scene locally. It would always be a closed “insider” circle, and contributes nothing to the growth of the local performing arts scene. Commercially, spending some opportunity cost (in lost ticket sales to “insider” circles) to try and reach out to the bigger public may be a more commercially sound move in the long run.
If it had been any other amateur group, I would definitely have been less critical of this practice, since I fully understand the difficulty of ticket selling and covering costs in a country where performing arts is still relatively unsupported at the even at the professional level, not to mention semi-professional or amateur groups. Many amateur groups are simply not well known enough to attract enough audience by their reputation alone, and also do not have the funds to engage in major publicity exercises. My own group died a natural death after two not very well attended concerts where we tried not to rely on “enforced members selling”. Well, I can, at least, say we tried.
However, for the group in question, other than being relatively well established and having a loyal following, I understand that they are also reasonably active in their various other activities like recordings and private bookings, and various other types of sponsorship, to ensure a reasonably healthy funding. In my humble opinion, they are in a better position to lead the way in the abolishing of this system of “enforced members selling” for a concert or two and experiment with the selling of tickets solely through public means and more involved publicity, without suffering major loss in ticket sales. Practicing “enforced members selling” at this stage of their development only appear to bring this group to the same level as any other secondary school choir (whose members have to canvass their friends for “support”), and is perhaps not the expectations of a leading group in the local choral music scene.
Of course, to be fair, this is the state of affairs not only for this particular choral group, but also many other local established performing groups in various genres. It is further exacerbated by the fact that the various public ticketing services will only do so much and no more to promote and publicize non-big ticket concerts, even though publicity is one of their services when they have been contracted. I certainly understand the constraints, and can even emphathise, but like I mentioned, certain groups are in a position to do more and change the status quo.
Well, I do apologise to said member if my comments had offended, and I firmly believe that we can take an “agree to disagree” approach to this.
Saturday, 20 October 2007
PEAU D'ANE (OR DONKEY SKIN)
After the mahjong session on last Saturday, we made our way to The Cathay to catch an evening screening of the classic French film – Peau D'Ane (or Donkey Skin), which was one of the featured films for the 23rd Singapore French Film Festival.
Synopsis (Spoiler??!!):
There was (once upon a time, what else?) a king of a strange and distant land who had everything he ever wanted – a beauteous and charming queen, and beautiful young daughter, a powerful and peaceful kingdom, and last but not least, his banker – a donkey which excretes jewels and gold coins. However, the queen was struck suddenly with a cruel malady and on her deathbed, demanded a promise from the king to never marry a woman who was less beautiful than she.
The king grieves for a while, but reality intrudes in the form of his cabinet, who reminds him that he had no male heir and demands that he marry again to beget the necessary male issues. The king reluctantly agrees, provided that a princess more beautiful than his late wife could be found.
The king’s cabinet, unsuccessful in their search in neighbouring lands, suggests that the king look to his own daughter, who is the only princess who equals, if not exceeds, the late queen in beauty, intelligence and charm. Convinced and perhaps helped into love by circumstances and the princess’s attributes, the king requests his daughter to marry him.
Shocked, the princess seeks help from the Lilac Fairy, her fairy godmother (who has a secret yen for the king, it seems). The Lilac Fairy advises the princess to discourage the king by setting impossible tasks to complete, such as requesting dresses the colour of the weather, the moon and the sun, and finally the skin of the king’s jewel excreting donkey. The king duly completes all, even reluctantly sacrificing his banker, to win her heart.
Convinced of his love for her and half tempted to give in, the princess nevertheless flees the kingdom at the urging of the Lilac Fairy (who probably had ulterior motives for doing so), wearing the donkey skin. She flees to an isolated farm where she accepted work as a lowly scullion in charge of the pig sties and is jeered at by others for being dirty and smelly.
With the help of her godmother, she schemes to meet and seduce the young prince of the land into falling in love with her. The subsequent story is somewhat reminiscent of Cinderella. The prince returns home lovesick, and asks for a cake baked by Peau D’Ane (Donkey Skin - the disguised princess). The princess does so and hides her ring in the cake, which the prince finds. The prince then announces to all in the land that the maiden whom the ring could fit perfectly would become his wife. The disguised princess puts on the ring and throws off the donkey skin to resume her original looks.
The couple marries and the king attends the ceremony with his new wife, the Lilac Fairy (see, I told you she had ulterior motives), in a helicopter (??!!) no less. And they lived happily ever after, or so it seems.
The French seems to get a kick out of fairy tales with a twist. The last one I happened to catch was a black and white version of Beauty and the Beast (La Belle et la Bete), with a slightly weird Beauty and a strange storyline. In some ways, the unconventional storyline of Peau D’Ane reminds me a little of the 1946 film.
The slightly incestuous theme at the beginning of the movie was handled rather well and subtly, and did not really strike any disgust or discomfort in me. I did think it was rather “interesting” when the princess confessed that she did not mind marrying the king when he appeared to love her so, and she also returned the affection, since this was not the sort of sentiment one expected in a pure and innocent fairy tale princess. I thought it also spoke volumes on a typical woman’s attitude to love – Love me, and I won’t care who you are or what you do.
The princess seemed to bounce between a few extreme natures during her sojourn at the farm. One moment, she appeared this meek, long suffering and pitiful waif and I really pitied her and wished her situation would get better. In the blink of an eye, she would transform into this vain, pampered and manipulative vixen with a mysterious smile and a plotting glimmer in her eyes. The next moment she would be back to the innocent and sweet princess. It was quite hard to pin her down and I couldn’t decide if I liked her character, or not. But she certainly was interesting.
The love story between the prince and the princess was really not much of a love story at all, and I doubt it was meant to be. I got the message that the prince was into this “relationship”, for want of a better word, because he was bored, and the princess was more interesting than anything else happening to him then. The princess, to my way of thinking, was obviously manipulating him into marriage because that was the best way out of her current situation. It was hard to feel romantic about the story under these circumstances.
The entire movie was peppered with interesting and amusing little touches. Like the dress the colour of good weather – that was a blue dress with running shadows projected onto it to represent clouds. I thought it looked like stormy weather, personally. The “witch” running the farm who spits frogs. The red horses and knights of the prince and the blue-faced servants of the king – is there a hidden message in the colours? The Ball of the Cats and Birds, with the chamber orchestra dressed as pigs. The whole scene where the maidens in the land were trying on the ring was a laugh a minute. The Lilac Fairy’s obscure references to the modern era. The helicopter that the king and the Lilac Fairy arrived in to attend the princess’s wedding (the references were not so obscure now). The parade of gifts from kings of other lands – Cats from Siam, Camels from Arabia and so on. And the princess’s look of disappointment when her father informed her that he had married her fairy godmother was very, very interesting indeed.
For a 70’s production, I thought it was a pretty sophisticated effort. The movie did not seem very badly dated even when viewed nearly thirty years later (Fairytale kingdoms obviously never get outdated). The costumes and sets were all rather colourful and dramatic and added to the feel of a fairy tale kingdom. I was pretty relieved upon seeing the costumes of the males especially, as for some reason, I half expected to see sheer hose, unsightly “bulges” and horrors of horrors – Codpieces! I never forgot Drew Barrymore’s Ever After (the cinderella story) where these things were prominently featured.
All-in-all, it was an interesting and amusing production and I am glad I did catch it in the end. We also had no idea so many people would be interested in classic French movies, since the cinema theatre was rather full, even if it was a small theatre.
Wonder what other entertainment the girls will dig up next.
Synopsis (Spoiler??!!):
There was (once upon a time, what else?) a king of a strange and distant land who had everything he ever wanted – a beauteous and charming queen, and beautiful young daughter, a powerful and peaceful kingdom, and last but not least, his banker – a donkey which excretes jewels and gold coins. However, the queen was struck suddenly with a cruel malady and on her deathbed, demanded a promise from the king to never marry a woman who was less beautiful than she.
The king grieves for a while, but reality intrudes in the form of his cabinet, who reminds him that he had no male heir and demands that he marry again to beget the necessary male issues. The king reluctantly agrees, provided that a princess more beautiful than his late wife could be found.
The king’s cabinet, unsuccessful in their search in neighbouring lands, suggests that the king look to his own daughter, who is the only princess who equals, if not exceeds, the late queen in beauty, intelligence and charm. Convinced and perhaps helped into love by circumstances and the princess’s attributes, the king requests his daughter to marry him.
Shocked, the princess seeks help from the Lilac Fairy, her fairy godmother (who has a secret yen for the king, it seems). The Lilac Fairy advises the princess to discourage the king by setting impossible tasks to complete, such as requesting dresses the colour of the weather, the moon and the sun, and finally the skin of the king’s jewel excreting donkey. The king duly completes all, even reluctantly sacrificing his banker, to win her heart.
Convinced of his love for her and half tempted to give in, the princess nevertheless flees the kingdom at the urging of the Lilac Fairy (who probably had ulterior motives for doing so), wearing the donkey skin. She flees to an isolated farm where she accepted work as a lowly scullion in charge of the pig sties and is jeered at by others for being dirty and smelly.
With the help of her godmother, she schemes to meet and seduce the young prince of the land into falling in love with her. The subsequent story is somewhat reminiscent of Cinderella. The prince returns home lovesick, and asks for a cake baked by Peau D’Ane (Donkey Skin - the disguised princess). The princess does so and hides her ring in the cake, which the prince finds. The prince then announces to all in the land that the maiden whom the ring could fit perfectly would become his wife. The disguised princess puts on the ring and throws off the donkey skin to resume her original looks.
The couple marries and the king attends the ceremony with his new wife, the Lilac Fairy (see, I told you she had ulterior motives), in a helicopter (??!!) no less. And they lived happily ever after, or so it seems.
The French seems to get a kick out of fairy tales with a twist. The last one I happened to catch was a black and white version of Beauty and the Beast (La Belle et la Bete), with a slightly weird Beauty and a strange storyline. In some ways, the unconventional storyline of Peau D’Ane reminds me a little of the 1946 film.
The slightly incestuous theme at the beginning of the movie was handled rather well and subtly, and did not really strike any disgust or discomfort in me. I did think it was rather “interesting” when the princess confessed that she did not mind marrying the king when he appeared to love her so, and she also returned the affection, since this was not the sort of sentiment one expected in a pure and innocent fairy tale princess. I thought it also spoke volumes on a typical woman’s attitude to love – Love me, and I won’t care who you are or what you do.
The princess seemed to bounce between a few extreme natures during her sojourn at the farm. One moment, she appeared this meek, long suffering and pitiful waif and I really pitied her and wished her situation would get better. In the blink of an eye, she would transform into this vain, pampered and manipulative vixen with a mysterious smile and a plotting glimmer in her eyes. The next moment she would be back to the innocent and sweet princess. It was quite hard to pin her down and I couldn’t decide if I liked her character, or not. But she certainly was interesting.
The love story between the prince and the princess was really not much of a love story at all, and I doubt it was meant to be. I got the message that the prince was into this “relationship”, for want of a better word, because he was bored, and the princess was more interesting than anything else happening to him then. The princess, to my way of thinking, was obviously manipulating him into marriage because that was the best way out of her current situation. It was hard to feel romantic about the story under these circumstances.
The entire movie was peppered with interesting and amusing little touches. Like the dress the colour of good weather – that was a blue dress with running shadows projected onto it to represent clouds. I thought it looked like stormy weather, personally. The “witch” running the farm who spits frogs. The red horses and knights of the prince and the blue-faced servants of the king – is there a hidden message in the colours? The Ball of the Cats and Birds, with the chamber orchestra dressed as pigs. The whole scene where the maidens in the land were trying on the ring was a laugh a minute. The Lilac Fairy’s obscure references to the modern era. The helicopter that the king and the Lilac Fairy arrived in to attend the princess’s wedding (the references were not so obscure now). The parade of gifts from kings of other lands – Cats from Siam, Camels from Arabia and so on. And the princess’s look of disappointment when her father informed her that he had married her fairy godmother was very, very interesting indeed.
For a 70’s production, I thought it was a pretty sophisticated effort. The movie did not seem very badly dated even when viewed nearly thirty years later (Fairytale kingdoms obviously never get outdated). The costumes and sets were all rather colourful and dramatic and added to the feel of a fairy tale kingdom. I was pretty relieved upon seeing the costumes of the males especially, as for some reason, I half expected to see sheer hose, unsightly “bulges” and horrors of horrors – Codpieces! I never forgot Drew Barrymore’s Ever After (the cinderella story) where these things were prominently featured.
All-in-all, it was an interesting and amusing production and I am glad I did catch it in the end. We also had no idea so many people would be interested in classic French movies, since the cinema theatre was rather full, even if it was a small theatre.
Wonder what other entertainment the girls will dig up next.
Sunday, 14 October 2007
SSO - SINGLE HANDED BRILLIANCE
October is a busy month for us with regards to the arts performances. I think the last period when we attended this many concerts and performances was this year’s Singapore Arts Festival in June/July.
Had date with the Singapore Symphony Orchestra (SSO) Friday evening – Single-Handed Brilliance, conducted by Lan Shui with soloist Alexandre Tharaud on the piano. Also present were the usual guys, EP, WJ and SJ.
Due to a delay at work and a massive traffic jam on the highways (and the byways…grrr…), I missed the first piece of the concert, Overture from The School for Scandal, by Samuel Barber. It was a pity, but I wasn’t too upset, since I was still in time for the two main works to be performed.
The second piece was Maurice Ravel’s Piano Concerto for Left Hand in D Major. The piece was commissioned for Austrian pianist Paul Wittgenstein, who lost his right arm during his service in the army in the First World War. He had developed an extraordinary one-handed technique in order not to sacrifice his musical career. Tonight the piece was performed by Alexandre Tharaud.
I am no particular fan of Ravel’s music, and make no pretence of understanding or particularly enjoying his music. For tonight’s piano concerto, what interested me and kept me riveted during the whole piece was the sheer novelty of watching a piano concerto being performed only with the left hand. I enjoyed the way the soloist’s left hand leapfrogged across the entire range of the keyboard, watching one single hand pick out melodies and counter melodies that would have normally required both hands. Quite brilliant indeed.
There were some amusing parts in the performance. Due to his only using one hand, the soloist had to move his body along the piano stool in order to be able to reach the extreme keys. He was also playing with quite a bit of energy, so he ended up being rather unstable and almost falling off the piano stool at times.
The third and last piece was Rachmaninov’s Symphony No. 2 in E Minor, Op. 27. Rachmaninov is one of the few (or maybe only) 20th century composer whose music I actually enjoy. To quote the program notes, in his music, one finds an “all-pervading melancholy, a strong sense of yearning for things pasts, outbursts of fervent passion and a penchant for long, heart-wrenching melodies”, the latter which appeals strongly to the romantic in me. The melancholy and darkness that is present in almost all his writings keeps the music from being too sickly sweet and sappy, while the melodic and passionate writing prevents the music from being overly depressing. There is a good balance between the light and the dark.
SSO did a fairly good job with the symphony, which begins darkly in the first movement with the cellos and basses, and slowly evolves to an abrupt climax. The second movement is a faster, more energetic dance of sorts. I found the second movement a little boring and nodded off at times during this movement, and noticed EP doing the same.
The third movement is built around a soaring melody that makes my heart want to fly out of my body, and was my favourite part of the whole concert. However, the crucial clarinet solo in this movement could have been better done. The soloist’s tone was flat and empty and the solo was bland, which kind of spoilt the movement for me. There was no life to his playing. It was a pity since the rest of the orchestra did pretty well overall. Finally, like most Rachmaninov’s works, the symphony ended on a dramatic and loud finale, with lots of loud brasses, especially the trumpets.
Overall, it was an interesting and relatively enjoyable performance, though it was certainly not SSO at their best. At the very least, I had a chance to listen to Rachmaninov live, though I wished they had played one of the piano concertos instead, since a soloist is in town.
We have two choral performances (by foreign choirs no less!) scheduled in the next two weeks. Can’t wait!
Had date with the Singapore Symphony Orchestra (SSO) Friday evening – Single-Handed Brilliance, conducted by Lan Shui with soloist Alexandre Tharaud on the piano. Also present were the usual guys, EP, WJ and SJ.
Due to a delay at work and a massive traffic jam on the highways (and the byways…grrr…), I missed the first piece of the concert, Overture from The School for Scandal, by Samuel Barber. It was a pity, but I wasn’t too upset, since I was still in time for the two main works to be performed.
The second piece was Maurice Ravel’s Piano Concerto for Left Hand in D Major. The piece was commissioned for Austrian pianist Paul Wittgenstein, who lost his right arm during his service in the army in the First World War. He had developed an extraordinary one-handed technique in order not to sacrifice his musical career. Tonight the piece was performed by Alexandre Tharaud.
I am no particular fan of Ravel’s music, and make no pretence of understanding or particularly enjoying his music. For tonight’s piano concerto, what interested me and kept me riveted during the whole piece was the sheer novelty of watching a piano concerto being performed only with the left hand. I enjoyed the way the soloist’s left hand leapfrogged across the entire range of the keyboard, watching one single hand pick out melodies and counter melodies that would have normally required both hands. Quite brilliant indeed.
There were some amusing parts in the performance. Due to his only using one hand, the soloist had to move his body along the piano stool in order to be able to reach the extreme keys. He was also playing with quite a bit of energy, so he ended up being rather unstable and almost falling off the piano stool at times.
The third and last piece was Rachmaninov’s Symphony No. 2 in E Minor, Op. 27. Rachmaninov is one of the few (or maybe only) 20th century composer whose music I actually enjoy. To quote the program notes, in his music, one finds an “all-pervading melancholy, a strong sense of yearning for things pasts, outbursts of fervent passion and a penchant for long, heart-wrenching melodies”, the latter which appeals strongly to the romantic in me. The melancholy and darkness that is present in almost all his writings keeps the music from being too sickly sweet and sappy, while the melodic and passionate writing prevents the music from being overly depressing. There is a good balance between the light and the dark.
SSO did a fairly good job with the symphony, which begins darkly in the first movement with the cellos and basses, and slowly evolves to an abrupt climax. The second movement is a faster, more energetic dance of sorts. I found the second movement a little boring and nodded off at times during this movement, and noticed EP doing the same.
The third movement is built around a soaring melody that makes my heart want to fly out of my body, and was my favourite part of the whole concert. However, the crucial clarinet solo in this movement could have been better done. The soloist’s tone was flat and empty and the solo was bland, which kind of spoilt the movement for me. There was no life to his playing. It was a pity since the rest of the orchestra did pretty well overall. Finally, like most Rachmaninov’s works, the symphony ended on a dramatic and loud finale, with lots of loud brasses, especially the trumpets.
Overall, it was an interesting and relatively enjoyable performance, though it was certainly not SSO at their best. At the very least, I had a chance to listen to Rachmaninov live, though I wished they had played one of the piano concertos instead, since a soloist is in town.
We have two choral performances (by foreign choirs no less!) scheduled in the next two weeks. Can’t wait!
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