Monday, September 5, 2022

Kip Cranna PART 2: Opera as a living art form

Kip Cranna
Photo: Scott Wall


San Francisco War Memorial Opera House

KC: Next came David Gockley, who had been running Houston Grand Opera for many years and established a reputation of commissioning lots of operas. He carried that forward when he came here. I knew him somewhat. I’d been involved back in the mid 90s when he commissioned an opera on Harvey Milk. He wanted to make sure San Francisco Opera became part of that. It did, along with New York City Opera. In traveling to Houston discussing this opera’s development I met David. It was fascinating working with him. In his mind, his gift to the company during his tenure was survival. He knew the economic future of opera in our American financial system had many challenges and felt it was important to put the company on a firm financial basis. He succeeded with that, despite the subprime mortgage debacle in 2008, which again threw everything into a financial tizzy but we subsequently recovered. A few operas during his tenure were Appomattox by Philip Glass; Bonesetter’s Daughter from Stewart Wallace; Heart of a Soldier from Chris Theofanidis; Secret Garden from Nolan Gasser; Mary Magdalene from Mark Adamo; Dolores Claiborne, Tobias Picker; Two Women, Marco Tutino; and Dream of the Red Chamber by Bright Sheng.

David Gockley
Photo: Courtesy San Francisco Opera

EM: Yes, this current season.

KC: David’s other great accomplishment was establishing the Wilsey Center next door to the opera house, in the War Memorial Veterans Building, consolidating a lot of different areas of the company in one space with a wonderful performing and rehearsal space that used to be the Sculpture Court of the Museum of Modern Art, now the Atrium Theatre. We owe it to David’s perseverance in pushing through that project, raising money for it.

EM: I’ve seen it. It’s spectacular.

KC: He also pioneered High-Definition television, raising money to establish a permanent HD facility, hidden cameras to capture things robotically without cameramen getting in the way. As a result, we were able to produce some DVDs and “Plaza Casts.” In Houston in the evening, you can sit outside the opera house and watch a simulcast. When he first suggested that here, he said, “I want to do a simulcast of Madame Butterfly at Civic Center Plaza outside City Hall, a block away from the opera house.” I said, “David, it’s cold at night in San Francisco. The fog rolls in.” [Laughs.] He said, “I don’t care, we’ll do it.” It was quite successful. We had several thousand people out there in parkas and sleeping bags [Laughs]. Later years we moved this to the ballpark where San Francisco Giants play.

EM: I’ve heard those are great events.

KC: David brought with him from Houston this young Englishman Matthew Shilvock, who I’d got to know quite well when he was briefly in San Francisco years earlier as an intern with Opera America, who sends them for brief residencies to various companies. He had gone to Houston, stayed there and joined the staff. A brilliant guy.

EM: He is indeed.

Matthew Shilvock
Photo: Sasha Arutyunova

KC: Very good with things like union negotiations, orchestra personnel matters et al. He really knows the ins and outs of the opera business, very detail oriented. I was quite thrilled when the board chose him to succeed David. He went into the job with his eyes open, knowing all the difficulties it entails and the looming financial challenges. Every year it gets a little harder to balance the budget. San Francisco’s a big union town. They make their best efforts for the best conditions for their members. Costs go up on all sides. We can’t raise ticket prices commensurate with that. Fundraisers fill the gap, particularly finding money from the Endowment to fill in that missing chunk. Matthew has his work cut out for him there. He’s done a lot of fascinating programming. This coming Centennial season, 2022-23, reflects that imagination and his respect for the history of the company as well as his forward-looking outlook.

EM: You’re doing another John Adams world premiere this season. 

Antony and Cleopatra Rehearsal:
John  Adams, Eu Sun Kim (conductor)
Kristen Loken
KC: Antony and Cleopatra will open the season, kick things off for the Centennial. And we’re bringing things back that had an important role in the company’s history. Dialogues of the Carmelites had its 1957 American premiere here shortly after its European premiere. Strauss’s Die Frau ohne Schatten had its 1959 American debut here, another company hallmark. We’ve had a good reputation for featuring American artists in their debuts in repertoire that hadn’t been done in this country before. That was a very long answer to your question! [Laughs.]

EM: It was, but so much incredible information. Let’s talk in more detail about commissions.

KC: What was a fascinating challenge for me to watch was that in every situation the relationship and dynamic between composer and librettist tended to be different. How the composer treated the text, what sort of dramatic effect they were looking for, was always based on the individual artistic creativity of the composer. Only one composer, Mark Adamo, wrote his own libretto for Mary Magdalene. In other cases, I did some refereeing, as in Streetcar between André and Philip, but mostly facilitating, making sure the communication went back and forth, contracts signed, checks were cut when deadlines were met. In some cases, it was dealing with a literary source, like the Tennessee Williams estate or dealing with publishers and trying to persuade them it was a good idea to license their work for development as an opera. To some extent input from the general director was also a factor. David was very hands-on with composers and librettists, telling them straight out what he thought worked and what didn’t. Sometimes it was up to me to encourage a compromise, a meeting of the minds to move the project forward. Fascinating experience in every case.

EM: What part did you play in supertitles, when was it, and how did patrons and press initially react to this phenomenon?

KC: I take no credit at all for the idea. That came from Francesca Zambello, an assistant director with the company, in 1983; and Jerry Sherk, our production stage manager at the time, who unfortunately died of cancer a few years ago. We were developing the Lehnhoff Ring—in 1983 Rheingold and Walküre, in 1984 Siegfried and finally the whole Ring in 1985. In 1983 Francesca was doing a student matinee of La Traviata. In those days when we had a standard rep piece during the main season it was common to use our young singers in the Adler Fellowship Program to do a low-priced family version of a show, sometimes in English. Francesca persuaded Terry McEwen we should do supertitles, which had been tried already in Europe, at New York City Opera and Canadian Opera in Toronto. It was quite a phenomenon in Traviata with the students and families.
Francesca  Zambello

The technology by today’s standards was primitive. You printed out a script and literally took a picture of the supertitle. It was developed onto a slide which you slid onto a carousel. I was involved writing scripts when we started doing supertitles for other shows. We learned by doing, that you could make terrible mistakes by getting your phrasing wrong. But it was a revolutionary approach and the audiences embraced it quite soon. 

When we did the Ring in 1985, some cycles had supertitles and some not. The ones with supertitles sold more quickly. We realized people were voting with their pocketbooks and wanted the shows with titles, a great audience pleaser. Lots of challenges, of course. In those days a carousel could only hold 70 slides. When you were writing your script and got into the 60s you had to find a spot that didn’t need titles, typically a long orchestral interlude or repeated passage in a chorus, to put in a new carousel. The carousels had to be kept warm, otherwise the slides would have moisture on them and were cloudy when being showed. You wrapped them in an electric blanket before showing. Now of course it’s done digitally with things like PowerPoint. Then, if you wanted to change a slide, it was a big deal. In rehearsal if the slide said, “Take this dagger and stab me in the heart!” but the person is holding a sword or gun, you had to change that title. But that meant printing it out, taking a picture of it, going to Walgreens, and getting it developed onto a slide [Laughs], numbering the slide, making sure it’s in the right order, not upside down or backwards, and getting it onto the carousel. Now it’s done instantly.

EM: Sounds like quite an ordeal.

KC: I was very pleased to be present at the creation of supertitles, but I give credit to Francesca and Jerry for pushing the idea forward. I think it revolutionized the approach to opera. Many people had been going to opera and viewing in a kind of ceremonial manner not really knowing what was going on. Kind of like attending a Mass in Latin [Laughs], not quite sure what’s happening but enjoying it anyway. It brought a much greater degree of audience involvement into the plotlines. I wrote a lot of supertitle scripts and became editor-in-chief of supertitles. I started noticing how important it was to make sure the titles matched the action. I still sometimes attend performances in theatres where not a lot of attention is paid to that. A good example is if a character says, “This letter will prove she’s innocent,” but at that time the letter has already been handed over to the other person, then the title needs to be “That letter proves she’s innocent.” Subtleties like that make the supertitle really improve the opera experience rather than go against it. It’s a certain cognitive distance when the reading doesn’t make sense compared to what you’ve witnessed onstage.

EM: That’s even more complicated than I imagined. Can you talk more about the season, including the Bay Area premiere of Gabriela Lena Frank’s opera along with old favorites?

Gabriela Lena Frank
Photo: Mariah Tauger
KC: John Adams is a Bay Area resident, and we have done all his major operas in the theatre. Antony and Cleopatra is the 3rd world premiere of his we’re doing. We’re part of the original commissioners of Klinghoffer. We’ve done Nixon, Doctor Atomic. Girls of the Golden West, now Antony and Cleopatra, those last three all world premieres of his works. The newest comes from Shakespeare but John is adapting the text himself with dramaturg Lucia Scheckner. That’s a really exciting addition to the repertoire, a good way to kick off a season. 

Eun Sun Kim
Photo: Sasha Arutyunova

I’ve already mentioned our long history with Russian operas. Russian opera has always had a big following here, lots of fans, and we’ve had good success. We first did Onegin in 1971, I believe in English. This is an exciting back entry representation of Russian opera in our season. Onegin is one of my 10 favorite operas.

EM: One of my top 5. What others are coming up?

KC: Carmelites. We’ve done the American premiere. On our website are audio clips I selected if you want to know what these operas sound like. The recordings are from a 1982 performance in English with a very young Carol Vaness as Blanche, Leontyne Price as the Prioress. It’s fascinating to go back that far, 40 years ago, hearing these historical broadcasts, realizing we’re honoring the past but going forward with a new production coming from the Champs Elysées in Paris. 
Traviata, our standard rep, these basic pieces that have to come around every 3 or 4 years. It’s important to revitalize the repertoire there. This is a new production by Shawna Lucey, who’s had a good role working with us in the past. She’s now general director of San José Opera here in the Bay Area. We’re glad to have her involved in this new production. Traviata was part of the 2nd season here, 1924, with Claudia Muzio. She opened the theatre when the company began in its new home at the War Memorial Opera House in 1932, singing Tosca. A big presence for the company. 

 La Traviata Act 1 

Model by Robert Innes Hopkins, prod. Shawna Lucey

We only did Gluck's Orpheus onstage once before, in 1959 with Blanche Thebom singing Orpheus as a trouser role. We did a concert version of Gluck’s French adaptation, Orphée, some years ago. There’s an audio recording of that but we didn’t stage it. This is the first time since the 50s we’ve staged this great historically important opera. 
Madame Butterfly, another new production, co-produced with Copenhagen and Dresden. This is also something that has to be in the rep every few years. Butterfly becomes more and more controversial because of its depiction of Asian artists onstage, but it’s just a great piece and deserves a hearing every so often. The company’s founder, Gaetano Merola, died conducting Un bel dì from that opera in a concert at Stern Grove, an outdoor amphitheater here. What a way to go.

Madame Butterfly
Tokyo Nikikiai Opera Foundation Chikashi Saegusa 
EM: And when the soprano was singing, “Morire.”

KC: Butterfly sings about how she’s going to greet Pinkerton when he comes up the hill to greet her, which of course he doesn’t do, but she’s waiting all night for him, thinking she’ll remain silent because she doesn’t want to die in her first encounter with him of the passion of the moment. Very operatic way for Maestro Merola to go.

Gaetano Merola, 1933

EM: You can’t make this stuff up.

KC: Really. It’s going to be exciting to see Frau ohne Schatten come back, a production from Los Angeles Opera that we are bringing here. Donald Runnicles, who was a longtime music director of the company, a famed Wagnerian who’s conducted all our recent Rings, will conduct this. Something to look forward to, Donald’s return.

Die Frau ohne Schatten
Photo: Robert Millard

Then we’re part of a consortium of commissioners with a new opera by Gabriela Lena Frank, a Bay Area artist of Peruvian ancestry. An imagining of the last days of the artist Diego Rivera, who sees a vision of his wife Frida Kahlo. It’s called The Last Dream of Frida and Diego, El Último sueño de Frida y Diego. This will be the first time ever that we’ve produced an opera in Spanish. I would say it’s about time. So, we start and end the season with new premieres, a fascinating way to bookend the season, the new embracing the old.

EM: What would you personally like to take away from this historical Centennial celebration?

KC: What I would urge everyone to take away from it is to embrace the ongoing vitality of opera, particularly in America, the creativity that American opera represents, along with honoring the fine tradition of producing the standard repertoire at the highest possible level. Opera is a living art form, not a museum, with creativity on all levels: fascinating new singers, new productions, exciting conductors, and invigorated repertoire. All these important elements that put together a season worth remembering.

EM: No question that this season will be memorable, Kip. I applaud you and everyone in the company for this immense effort. You have taken on enormously ambitious projects. The whole scope of the season is astonishing. I wish you all the most marvelous season ever.

KC: Thank you, Erica. We have a lot of work ahead, but it will be exciting to see it all come to fruition. 

War Memorial Opera House
Photo: Cesar Rubio


Erica can be reached at: [email protected]

San Francisco Opera’s Kip Cranna: Embracing Opera’s Vitality


Kip Cranna
Photo: Carlin Ma


San Francisco War Memorial Opera House

If the term “Mister Opera” were applied to San Francisco Opera Dramaturg Emeritus Kip Cranna, no one would object. Cranna’s unique history with the company extends over a 40-year period, 30 of them as Director of Music Administration. The numerous honors that have been showered upon him include the San Francisco Opera Guild’s Star of Excellence Award (2014); and the prestigious San Francisco Opera Medal (2008), the company’s highest accolade, which he received in a ceremony during a simulcast of Lucia di Lammermoor at ATT Park, home of the San Francisco Giants.

Cranna’s CV is so extensive, it’s both impressive and daunting. Highlights include managing the company’s commissions of 20+ new operas; serving as vocal adjudicator for, among others, the Metropolitan Opera National Council auditions; and conducting Bay Area choral groups. He is also a board member of Humanities West, a guest lecturer and teacher throughout Northern California, a writer of numerous articles on opera, and a walking encyclopedia of the company’s history.

Who better, then, to discuss and share details of a 2022-2023 Centennial season that celebrates the history and accomplishments of this country’s second largest opera organization?

Erica Miner: When did you first begin working with San Francisco Opera? How many years were you there, and what positions have you held?

Photo: David Wakely

Kip Cranna: I started in 1979 when I was still a graduate student at Stanford, working on my Ph.D. in Musicology. I heard from a friend who was on the board of the opera that there was an administrative position open, so I applied and got it. It was not on the musical side of things—Assistant Business Manager—but it was a foot in the door. I was doing things like contracts for radio and television, organizing tours, arranging office furniture. Simultaneously with finishing my Ph.D. in 1981, I moved to the musical side and became Assistant Musical Administrator and the following year Music Administrator, later given the loftier title Director of Music Administration. I did that for 30 years. It was a very hands-on administrative position in the musical side, doing master schedules for rehearsals and performances, managing overall for the orchestra, chorus, dancers, music staff. Super titles came into it soon after that. Pianos, libraries, royalties, commissions. The commissioning became a much more important aspect of my job as time went on. After 35 years of that I told David Gockley, who was my boss at the time, that maybe it was a good point to hang it up. He said, “Are you talking about retirement or a new job description?” So, he suggested I hang on to the musicology and dramaturgy aspects of my job and stay for a while longer in a position called Dramaturg. After 5 years that position was eliminated as an official staff position, but I’m still in it as Dramaturg Emeritus working with the company on a variety of projects doing with the musicological-dramaturgical side of things.

EM: So, a total of how many years?

KC: It was 40 years in 2019 that I worked on staff, 3 years beyond that as Dramaturg Emeritus. I’m called on quite often on a random basis to help with a variety of things: grant applications, website content. I have a regular Sunday afternoon participative Zoom “Aficionado,” an event to keep our tried-and-true opera lovers happy with more information about opera.

EM: Your “Operas and Novels” sounds fascinating.

KC: That’s an area that’s always interested me, what I call “Page and Stage.” I’m teaching a 6-week course currently for Dominican University in Marin County. I’m doing a concentrated version of that with opera librarian Michael Bragg. Various iconic novels that have been turned into operas. Manon Lescaut, Moby Dick, Little Prince.

EM: You’ve worked with every general director in the company’s history except for founder Gaetano Merola. What was it like to work with them? What were some of the most memorable highlights of their tenures?

KC: That is a big topic. Each very different, of course, in their approach in terms of running the company, what interested them as far as repertoire, singers, directors and conductors. I was fortunate in that I enjoyed working with every single one of them.

EM: Kurt Herbert Adler was running the company when you joined? 

Regina Resnik, Kurt Herbert Adler
Photo: Caroline Crawford

KC: It was in the last 3 years of his tenure. He announced his retirement for 2 years hence just after I joined and ruled with an iron fist. You never argued with him. If you did, you may regret it. You couldn’t do that kind of thing now. Human Resources would be after you in a moment if you created the hostile work environment that the opera was under Kurt Herbert Adler [Laughs]. But to his credit he made the company what it is, of international stature. He had good luck. He took chances that often worked out well. He had good relationships with famous artists like Beverly Sills and Luciano Pavarotti, Leontyne Price in particular. They liked coming to the company. He was very detail oriented, noticed anything and everything. Hands-on, not a delegator, wanted to make every decision, including the daily schedule for rehearsals. He had his hand on every aspect of the company. Fascinating man to work for. After he retired, he continued to guest conduct with the company, which was a big, odd sort of reversal of roles for me. Previously as his staff member I did whatever he told me to. As guest conductor I sometimes had to tell him no, whether he wanted an extra harp in the orchestra or an extra hour of orchestra rehearsal [Laughs]. 

EM: And his successor?

Terence McEwen
Photo: Courtesy of San Francisco Opera
KC: He hand-picked Terry McEwen, a Canadian executive from the record industry who had fostered the careers of many great artists including Pavarotti and Joan Sutherland. He brought those connections with him to San Francisco Opera. We had a lot of fun in the McEwen era. He was a bon vivant, wonderful raconteur, a fun person to work with. His biggest claim to fame was rescuing opening night in his 2nd season, 1983. Carlo Cossutta, the tenor singing Otello that night, the biggest social event of the year, fell ill. Plácido Domingo was persuaded to hop on a private jet—he was at the Met rehearsing—and got here for a very late curtain, almost 10:00, which ended around 2 a.m. An amazing, exciting evening. Overall, the biggest artistic triumph of Terry’s tenure was the incredible Ring he produced in 1985, conducted by Edo De Waart and directed by Nikolaus Lehnhoff. A much-heralded production which unfortunately was not captured for commercial video but would have been great to have. There were so many tickets in demand that we did a simulcast to Davies Symphony Hall, which was rather new.

EM: Tell us about other Ring productions you’ve been involved with.

San Francisco Opera, Die Walküre
Photo: Cory Weaver

KC: I’ve been involved with 5 Rings with various directors. Only 2 basic physical productions. The original Lehnhoff designed by John Conklin, and the Francesca Zambello Ring designed by Michael Yeargan. They both were very well done. I was glad to be associated with them. Putting on a Ring is an enormously taxing experience for everyone involved, from violinist to usher to box office to lowly administrator, all under a lot of pressure. Terry then retired rather early, his late 60s, because of his health. He had diabetes and was told by his doctor get stress out of his life. He did what he always said he would do, move to Honolulu, and lived his retirement years there. I visited him there.

EM: Who succeeded him? 

Lotfi Mansouri
Photo: Courtesy San Francisco Opera
KC: Lotfi Mansouri, who had a long association with the company as a stage director. Immediately before he was general director of Canadian Opera, Toronto. I knew Lotfi well, having worked with him as a stage director. He had real ambitions about commissioning. When he took over the company, he pulled me aside and said, “I want to do three things, Kip. To commission an opera based on Dangerous Liaisons, an opera based on A Streetcar Named Desire, and an opera with a libretto by Terrence McNally.” He did all three and set me to it. Dangerous Liaisons was set by the late Conrad Susa, a composer here at the Conservatory. Libretto by Philip Littell. Quite a successful opera, televised on Great Performances. For Streetcar we thrashed around trying to find the right composer. In those days, the early 90s, you listened to audio cassettes the composers’ agents sent you. We weren’t finding anything that really sparked Lotfi’s interest. Then while driving the car I heard a piece by André Previn on the radio. I suggested Previn to Lotfi, he called him and that’s how it came about, again with libretto by Philip Littell. It was quite an experience working with the Tennessee Williams estate on that production. It featured Renée Fleming as Blanche, which would have helped her to stardom if she wasn’t already there.

EM: What year was that?

KC: 1998.

EM: Fleming was still at her peak.

KC: She had done several things with us, the Countess in Figaro et al. I would say the beginning of her international stardom, reaching her career high point, more or less coincided with the telecast of Streetcar. At that time on our staff was a young guy named Jake Heggie who had been getting attention from artists with songs he was writing. Lotfi asked him if he would like to write an opera and offered to connect him with Terrence McNally. The two hit it off. Lotfi’s idea for the year 2000 was an opera based on the French saying, “Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose.” The more things change, the more they stay the same. The idea that in every historical period people are nostalgic for the previous period. Terrence hated that idea. He did not want to delve back into previous periods, he wanted something more contemporary and suggested Dead Man Walking, which became one of the most successful operas of our time.

EM: And it all happened at San Francisco Opera.

KC: The big initiative of the Mansouri era was exploring the Russian repertoire. We did a very large number of Russian operas during Lotfi years. We had the American premiere of conductor Valery Gergiev, whose reputation is somewhat clouded right now because of his association with the Russian president. But in the 90s Gergiev came here often and brought artists from the Mariinsky Theatre in St. Petersburg. One of the highlights was 1991’s Prokofiev War and Peace. We had a huge number of Russian artists here. The Soviet Union was falling apart, so none of these people wanted to come to rehearsal, they wanted to stay in their apartments and watch television [Laughs]. It was really an amazing time, we had Olga Borodina, a young singer named Anna Netrebko among others.

Eugene Onegin
Photo: Michael Cooper
EM: And Lotfi was succeeded by?

KC: The first native born American to run the company, Pamela Rosenberg, who had gone to UC Berkeley but had spent her career in Germany. Immediately before coming here, she made quite a name for herself running Stuttgart Opera, putting on a lot of avant garde, cutting edge productions. Coming here her “brief” was to yank the company into the 21st century. 2001 was her first official season. She ran into tremendous roadblocks financially. In 2000 just before she took over the company, we had the bust in the Bay Area. The bottom really fell out of the company. Then we had 9/11 the first year of Pamela’s tenure. Those fall months, September, October, November, nobody was coming to the opera, nobody wanted to go anywhere. Shell shocked. Nonetheless she persevered and did a lot of fascinating productions here. She had announced a series of initiatives that she wanted to follow through on. Berlioz project, Janáček project, various operas on Faust

Pamela Rosenberg
Courtesy San Francisco Opera 

In that connection we commissioned John Adams to write his Doctor Atomic about Robert Oppenheimer and the creation of the atomic bomb. Pamela didn’t know John, but I did. We worked previously on his opera Death of Klinghoffer. Pamela saw Oppenheimer as kind of a Faustian figure. John liked the idea of Oppenheimer but was not attracted to the Faustian connection. He didn’t see that. Nonetheless we went forward with Doctor Atomic which was quite successful in 2005. We did not have a subtitle as Pamela originally had suggested of “An American Faust.” 

EM: There was a certain “deal with the Devil” involvement there.

KC: Yes, and Oppenheimer himself expressed feelings like that. Not in a direct Faustian connection, but he quoted the Bhagavad Gita. He was fluent in many languages, including Sanskrit. There is a phrase in there, “I have become death, the destroyer of worlds.” That ends up in the opera as the "Vishnu Chorus" expressing these thoughts, “Oh my God, what are we doing. What have we done?” Pamela left after 5 years, finding the financial difficulties of working in America more than she wanted to carry on with. The funding situation here is very different from Europe, like in Germany where you get a substantial portion of your budget from the federal government. Here our government sources tend to be around 1%, most of that coming from the City of San Francisco. She did not relish fundraising, which is something you must do all the time. You have to take people to lunch and persuade them about the exciting prospects you have in mind. She went to the Berlin Philharmonic. I’m still in touch with her. She’s retired from that job, worked at the American Academy in Berlin, and now is working with childhood music education, particularly children of immigrants. 

 END PART 1—NEXT, PART 2: Opera as a living art form


Erica can be reached at: [email protected]

Monday, August 8, 2022

Raiford Rogers Modern Ballet Presents...

This Saturday, August 13, the Luckman Fine Arts Complex presents the world premiere of Seeds of Rain by choreographer Raiford Rogers, with music by Philip Glass and Zbynek Mateju. The performers include Los Angeles organist Mark Alan Hilt, pianist Helena Zakharova Weiser, with art projections by Mike Nava. The featured guest artist is Ukrainian dancer Tetyana Matyanova.

The title for the ballet-diptych, Seeds of Rain, is a line from D.H. Lawrence’s Autumn Rain, a poem about hope and renewal. Each of its two parts has a separate title: The music for Part 1 of Seeds of Rain, performed by Hilt, is a special arrangement of Philip Glass’ masterwork Mad Rush recorded at the First Presbyterian Church in Santa Monica, while the music for Part 2, recorded specifically for this ballet, is set to Czech composer Zbynek Mateju’s Three Stones Concerto—and features Weiser with the Hradec Kralove Philharmonic Orchestra.

The stage artwork is by painter Mike Nava and features projected animations: a chronological evolution of a series of paintings, photographed layer by layer. Hundreds of stages of the paintings' development slowly fade from one to the next without a static moment, providing a living environment for the dancers and a visual embodiment of the music.

After an intermission another work, Naivete of Flowers, will be performed. 


WHEN AND WHERE: Saturday, May 13, 8:00 pm, at the Luckman Fine Arts Complex, at California State University, Los Angeles. 
Tickets: call the Luckman box office at 323-343-6600. Or go to Ticketmaster.

Friday, July 29, 2022

A New Violin Concerto, or Born of Fire in Budapest

Todd Mason (composer), Tosca Opdam (soloist), and Peter Illényi (conductor) at the recording of Mason's Violin Concerto in Budapest on July 18, 2022.


The Los Angeles-born, Juilliard-trained composer Todd Mason has written a substantial body of music including numerous chamber works for various ensembles (among them three string quartets), vocal compositions, and pieces for string orchestra. Since 2014 he has hosted an annual series of chamber concerts, some including his own works, in his Mar Vista home (reviewed here, here, herehere, and here). 

During the long Covid shutdown, Todd Mason embarked for the first time on a large-scale, purely orchestral work, and this article traces the journey of his new Violin Concerto from its inception in locked-down LA to a recording venue in Budapest, Hungary during Europe's summer 2022 heatwave. 


During the pandemic, I finally set myself to writing a violin concerto, something I’d been wanting to do for years but never seemed to have enough time to focus on such an ambitious project. Plus, I felt that I was still learning about the myriad complexities of a large-scale work for orchestra and soloist, not to mention the intimidating fact of so many epic concertos already in the literature. I knew this new piece had to be something very special!

I asked myself the most fundamental question: “What is a violin concerto?” It obviously has to be a piece that features the instrument, and presumably with full orchestra to enhance and color it. But it has to be more than merely pretty, for example, or just fast; it should take the listener on an exciting and engaging journey to interesting and unique places, and of course give the soloist opportunities to showcase what the violin is capable of. So I studied many of the famous scores, and some not so famous, and ultimately came up with something that I felt had my own compositional voice and a compelling musical story.


I've always been as much drawn to single-movement as to multi-movement structures, and what emerged was a continuous 22-minute work with sharp contrasts in emotion and harmonic language, but also with a steady and driving element that involves a recurring motif, of four rising notes, which becomes a kind of glue, in many forms, for the whole piece. 

The rapid but pianissimo opening, complete with a quiet gong, is largely atonal with thick washes of 16th notes in the strings and clarion brass accents creating a high intensity of energy. When this simmers down, the soloist enters and the mood gives way to a slower, richer, melodic polyphonic texture above which the violin sings. A pensive, soul-searching meditation, with ever-building tension, gives way to a mini-cadenza that leads suddenly into a faster, playful, and rhythmically contrasting section with short off-kilter chords—the orchestra battling against the soloist.

Then another big change comes: a very emotional and slower, almost hymn-like section reveals an entirely new sonic world, embracing more traditional tonalities and in which the soloist engages in a very agreeable dialog with the orchestra. But the violinist also decides when that’s over too, and a new, somewhat eerie, section leads to a grand, designedly virtuosic cadenza and an even grander finish. My view of a "good concerto" is that it's largely about the interesting struggle for dominance between soloist and orchestra—and that in the good concertos the soloist always has the last word!

This project certainly kept me busy during much of the pandemic, even if I had no idea how I would ever get it performed. I worked on it for four months without interruption in the spring of 2021 and completed it at around the time I was able to get my first Covid vaccine jab.


All good. I was very happy with the concerto. But how to bring it to the concert hall? I tried not to keep in mind that, after a very unsuccessful premiere it took almost 40 years before Beethoven’s Violin Concerto finally had a good performance with the 12-year old prodigy, Joseph Joachim. Unfortunately for Beethoven, he never heard (or saw) that celebrated performance. Needless to say, for the composer, getting a trio or string quartet performed is quite a bit of an easier proposition than a new full-length concerto with full orchestra.

The next step involved some luck and serendipity. I needed a top violinist. As it turned out, two dear music friends, both fellow Juilliard alums, in different countries, were the first people I asked for recommendations, and although they didn’t know each other personally, both suggested the same violinist, a young Dutch soloist by the name of Tosca Opdam (left), another Juilliard alum! And, equally fortunately, after I sent her the score and a rough computer realization (which never sound particularly great), she said she was interested in the project.

However it’s one thing—and perhaps the comparatively easy thing—for a composer to write a technically demanding piece such as a concerto, but it’s quite another for a soloist to actually find it compelling—a good concerto—and be interested enough to help find ways to make it technically playable and then want to perform it.

A whole year went by and, partly because of the pandemic continuing, it was still difficult to move forward with this project. Few orchestras were performing publicly, and from its outset early this year the Russia/Ukraine war was causing considerable worry across Europe, where any recording would be made. But then things began to look more promising. 


Using Zoom calls and numerous emails, Tosca and I slowly went through the entire piece to make the violin part as idiomatic as possible. The wonderful thing about a top soloist is that they have suggestions that the most experienced composers simply would not know about. Is this double stop actually playable after this double stop? Can you play these non-intuitive semi-chromatic arpeggios at this tempo? Will these high notes work as harmonics? 

Tchaikovsky‘s Violin Concerto, for example, was turned down by two violinists who thought it unplayable, which certainly didn’t help the composer‘s mood. He struggled to rewrite certain passages, but when it was finally premiered, the review was savage: “The Russian composer Tchaikovsky is an inflated talent, without discrimination or taste. Such is also his long and pretentious Violin Concerto … vulgarity gains the upper hand. The violin is no longer played; it is pulled, torn, shredded.”—Vienna Free Press.

I had a bit of a similar worry about the playability and listenability of my concerto because the very fast tempo made certain passages extremely difficult; the soloist, rightly so, suggested reducing the pace slightly in places so all the notes could be heard. But then, if it had to go more slowly, I feared it would lose some of its personality and energy.


Nonetheless, a year after finishing the work, a window of availability opened up to make a recording this July. Such a real performance is extremely useful to promote a new piece for live concerts, and it also helps the composer iron out numerous crucial details before going public. So I went ahead and lined up the Hungarian orchestra that had done such a marvelous job on my Chamber Suite for String Orchestraand we went ahead and set out for Budapest.

Then, very quickly came the news of massive flight cancellations, which caused additional worry! But we somehow got our flights without losing our suitcases, scores, or violins—and then suddenly realized we were flying into one of the worst heatwaves ever to hit Europe. I guess we lucked out a bit because on the day of the recording it was only 100°F in Budapest...

This orchestra, The Budapest Scoring Orchestra, specializes in high-quality new classical music recordings and film scores, similar to the top studio orchestras in Los Angeles. The players—drawn from the prestigious Budapest Philharmonic, the Budapest Opera Orchestra, the Hungarian State Philharmonic, and a contemporary music ensemble called Concerto Budapest—are all remarkable sight-readers.

The classical music tradition in Hungary is strong and at a very high level, and as a result it has an illustrious record of producing some of history's greatest classical musicians, conductors, and composers: names like Franz Liszt, Béla Bartók, and Eugene Ormandy, to mention just a few, and also Zoltán Kodály, who in fact designed the very studio (exterior, left) where our recording was made. 

Despite the heat—the studio A/C was only partly able to keep up—over five hours Tosca Opdam and the orchestra under its superb Hungarian conductor, Peter Illényi, made this new and challenging concerto come alive in marvelous ways I didn’t even think possible. It was like drinking out of a fire hose: extremely intense but enormously exciting to hear the work for the very first time.

And then even better news… Tosca somehow did the impossible and navigated all the difficult passages at full tempo on her rare Matteo Goffriller violin (right). The result was utterly thrilling. While Illényi was fluent in English, the musicians mostly spoke Hungarian only, so there were rapid-fire discussions back and forth in both languages (which sound worlds apart!) but all negotiated deftly by Illényi.  

Where we all communicated in the same language was through the music, perhaps partly because I’ve always had an echo of Bartók in my music and they understood that perfectly. Fast, semi-chromatic runs and tricky rhythms, no problem. Stacked polyphonic divisi sliding chords, fine! But, more importantly, the very spirit of the music was intuitively embraced by these skilled musicians.

After the session, Peter Illényi said “I hear a kind of Bartók in your music,” to which I replied “Well, that’s not surprising because he is one of my heroes.” I think he was very happy to hear that. In the lobby of the recording studio is a giant portrait of Bartók.

Hearing my new Violin Concerto come to life, we all felt that it has a very good chance of being received well by audiences in the US and Europe alike. Tosca Opdam wants to perform it several times on a special tour and of course I very much hope that happens! Next up is the lengthy process of taking all the best takes and editing them into a final result, which will be posted on YouTube. But after being born of fire in Budapest, I feel this is a challenge I can handle. 

 Fingers crossed, next stop, the concert hall! Stay tuned…


Photos: Todd Mason.

Friday, June 17, 2022

Beethoven, Mendelssohn Close Second Sundays’ Season

Click on the image to hear Trio Céleste play Beethoven and Mendelssohn at
Rolling Hills United Methodist Church.


Trio Céleste, Second Sundays at Two, Rolling Hills United Methodist Church

This was the finale of Classical Crossroads’ “Second Sundays at Two” 2021-22 season of chamber music recitals, impacted of course by Covid (so still not open to unlimited audience attendance), but otherwise going out on a strong note with two compact masterpieces, one late Classical and the other early Romantic.

Rather as Beethoven’s Fourth Symphony has been overshadowed by its numerical neighbors—not to mention the mighty Ninth—so his Piano Trio No. 4, Op. 11 “Gassenhauer” (in the same key, B-flat major, as the Fourth Symphony) feels something of a lightweight within that genre of his chamber music, following as it does the imposing set of three that he proudly labeled his “Opus 1,” and succeeded by, amongst others, the famous “Ghost” Trio (No. 5 in D major, Op. 70, No. 2)—named for its (literally) haunting slow movement—and the unprecedentedly expansive “Archduke” (No. 7 in B-flat major, Op. 97).

But not to Trio Céleste (Kevin Kwan Loucks, piano, Iryna Krechkovsky, violin, and Ross Gasworth, cello), who have it firmly in their repertoire (one previous performance reviewed here) and perform it with a concentrated energy, crispness of ensemble, and close observation of sudden dynamic contrasts that are far removed from the easy-going Gemütlichkeit of some other performances.

Beethoven in 1801, seven
years after he composed his
Fourth Piano Trio.
As you can hear from the recording linked here and above—captured live before an invited audience at RHUMC on the second Sunday in June—Trio Céleste took the Allegro con brio marking to the first movement very much at face value, and with the exposition repeat absent it had a terse homogeneity that more recalled Beethoven’s Fifth than his Fourth.

Following this, the Adagio was dignified but not lingering, and given as con espressione as the composer could require, while the finale—nine variations on the popular (in 1797) melody "Pria ch'io l'impegno" ("Before I go to work")—had all the whiplash changes of mood, pace, and dynamic that it needs, with a particular bounce added to the coda where Beethoven shifts from 4/4 to 6/8. What a wealth of wit and variety he packs into its six minutes!

The other work was Felix Mendelssohn's Piano Trio No. 1 in D minor, Op. 49, which as much as any other amongst his chamber music output counters any thoughts of him as a comfortably Biedermeier composer. Trio Céleste’s account of the first movement, if like the other three not quite up to Mendelssohn’s extremely fast metronome marks, was as wholeheartedly Molto allegro ed agitato as the succeeding slow movement—in the greatest imaginable contrast—fulfilled its Andante con moto tranquillo marking.

Mendelssohn in 1834, five years
 before the First Piano Trio.
Is it possible actually to play the Scherzo at Mendelssohn's metronome mark of dotted quarter note = 120? Maybe, and if any group could manage it Trio Céleste might, but even at something less than that the movement had the requisite whirlwind, elfin quality, while the finale returned to and accentuated the first movement’s intensity.

Next season, Classical Crossroads plans to return to free public live-audience concerts for both its “First Fridays at First!~fff” and “Second Sundays at Two” series, but with the innovation of simultaneous true livestreaming for those who cannot attend in person and with the resulting recording made available on Vimeo, potentially for a worldwide audience. All credit to them for having triumphed over Covid adversity while maintaining the highest artistic standards, and with the promise to come back stronger than ever—donations here


Second Sundays at Two, Rolling Hills United Methodist Church, Rolling Hills Estates, Sunday, June 12, 2022, 2.00 p.m.
Images: The performance: Courtesy Classical Crossroads; Beethoven and Mendelssohn: Wikimedia Commons.

If you found this review to be useful, interesting, or informative, please feel free to Buy Me A Coffee!

Thursday, June 16, 2022

Celebration and Inspiration at the Mason House Finale

Click on the image above for Todd Mason’s arrangement of Bach’s “Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring,”
played as the encore to the season finale of the Mason Home Concerts 2021-22.


Brandenburg No. 4 & more..., Mason Home Concerts, Mar Vista

Though—praise be!—live concerts with audiences are (mostly) back after the long silence, schedules are still vulnerable to Covid mayhem and, for the second week running, a local event originally planned for an early/mid-season slot had to be repurposed as its season finale. But the good news was that, as for the Long Beach Symphony on the first Saturday of June (reviewed here), the present recital, played by seven of LA's brightest talents, proved a fortuitously fitting climax to the 2021-22 season of chamber concerts hosted by composer Todd Mason in his Mar Vista home.

This miscellany of no less than seven programmed items, originally planned for February but postponed due to an infection spike, therefore had an end-of-season sense of festivity, if anything accentuated by Mason’s Covid-cautious decision to move the performance from his acoustically-crafted concert room to the backyard patio—just large enough to accommodate chairs for around 50 but inevitably putting a bit of squeeze on serving space for the ample and delicious supper to which patrons of the series are regularly treated.

Sensibly, the Mason Concerts’ regular speaker, Dr. Kristi Brown-Montesano of Colburn Conservatory (left), decided not to try and encapsulate this musical smorgasbord in one introductory talk, but chose instead to briefly comment on each piece before it was played. Indeed, she said, she had tried but failed to come up with an overall link between all the items—which was nearly, but not quite, a steady accretion from a single player at the start to the full muster of seven by the end.

The closest she could get was to regard the opening two works, for strings only, as an appetizer to the main, and mainly flute-oriented, platter, and as such she began by introducing cellist Bennie Fried to play two movements from J. S. Bach’s Suite No. 6 in D major for solo cello, BWV 1012—probably written, like the other five suites, some time before 1720.

To a non-performer it always feels particularly challenging for whoever plays first in a concert to seize the cold-open moment and really launch the event, and in this case for a single player to do so under the technical and interpretative demands of Bach’s solo cello writing seemed especially daunting. Mr. Fried, however, rapidly won over the audience with a spacious and rhythmically free account of the Prelude, followed by the third-movement Courant shorn of both its repeats, so that it felt like a lightweight encore to the Prelude’s breadth and seriousness.

The young Jean Sibelius.
The second strings-only hors d'oeuvre was a lingeringly affectionate account by violinist Misha Vayman and violist Virginie d’Avezac of the Duo in C major for Violin and Viola, JS 66, composed around 1891-92 by Sibelius: sweetly melodic but not to these ears very “Sibelian” in any recognizably harmonic or rhythmic sense. It was a reminder—Dr. Brown-Montesano aptly referred to it as a “song without words”—of the legion of chamber and instrumental works that Sibelius wrote in the years before his celebrated orchestral tone-poems and symphonies, and which still remain virtually unexplored, apart from in BIS’s prodigious Sibelius Edition.

Does this mean it gets louder and then quieter again?” whispered one wag on seeing that the next item was by Franz Doppler. Ms. Brown-Montesano may or may not have caught this scientific over-simplification, but she was quick to point out that Franz Doppler (1821-1883), flute virtuoso and composer, was not the same as Christian Doppler (1803-1853), the mathematician and physicist who first defined the principle that became known as the “Doppler effect.”

Franz Doppler.
Franz Doppler’s Rondo for two flutes and piano introduced the virtuoso flute skills of Sara Andon and Rachel Mellis—the presence of the former a constant for the remainder of the evening—as well as the conductor and pianist Tae Yeon Lim, playing an electronic keyboard that as the evening progressed was to prove remarkably versatile.

Their nimbly interlocking account of the piece, with its earworm-inducing main theme and secondary melody that bore a slight resemblance to “Cherry Ripe,” made one regret that time constraints didn’t allow for the Andante of Doppler’s complete two-movement Op. 25 to be included before the Rondo.

The same three performers concluded part one of the recital with Ramesh Kumar Kannan’s brief and touching A Father’s Letter, composed in 2021. For this Mss. Andon and Mellis moved to their alto flutes, and Mr. Kannan himself was present to receive warm applause.

Sara Andon, Adrianne Pope, Virginie d'Avezac and Bennie Fried play film score arrangements.

Though we’re well beyond the snobbery that film music is just generically inappropriate for concert listening, I do think it remains a challenge to present a memorable movie theme—originally designed to represent a character or enhance a piece of action—in a way that is also a satisfactorily self-contained piece when divorced from that original source.

For me this was true for the arrangements which opened the second half—after a break for more refreshments and socializing—of both Ennio Morricone’s Cinema Paradiso and John Williams’ "Princess Leia Theme" from the original Star Wars, with each having just a little too much “wrapping around” when you’re really just waiting for The Tune to come back.

That said, the performances, by Ms. Andon (now adding piccolo to her flute family resources) and Adrianne Pope (violin), together with Ms. D’Avezac’s viola and Mr. Fried’s cello, were as skilled and committed as anyone could desire, and enhanced by eloquent encomia from Ms. Andon and Dr. Brown-Montesano on the composers: Morricone, who though he created an entirely new Western “sound” for the “Dollars” movies back in the ‘60s had to wait a half-century before winning the Best Original Score Oscar (right) for The Hateful Eight; and John Williams, still going strong at 90, who may or may not be "the greatest movie composer of all time" but is certainly the most well-known, beloved, and honored.

And finally, back to Johann Sebastian Bach. All seven performers now mustered on the patio for a performance—after Ms. Brown-Montesano etched in what is known and surmised about its history—of the Brandenburg Concerto No. 4 in G major, BWV 1049. It may seem hyperbolic to say it, but with the players thoroughly warmed up and buoyed by a hugely appreciative audience, this was simply one of the most vivid and rewarding performances of a Brandenburg that I can recall in nearly 60 years of concert-going.

The first page of Bach's manuscript of his Brandenburg Concerto No. 4.
Led by Ms. Pope’s virtuoso account of the highly ornate Violino Principale part, and underpinned by Ms. Lim’s electronic keyboard now convincingly disguised as a harpsichord, every strand of Bach’s divine polyphony was “present” and characterful in what felt like a reaffirmation of the eternal verities of great music at a time when so little in the world seems certain.

And even this wasn’t the end. After an ovation that must have rattled the windows of Mr. Mason’s neighbors, the players stayed for an encore: his own arrangement for flutes, strings, and continuo (Ms. Lim’s keyboard now metamorphosed again into an organ) of "Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring" from Bach’s Cantata No. 147 “Herz und Mund und Tat und Leben,” BWV 147. Further comment is superfluous, as you can hear this for yourself if you click on the image at the top of this review, except to say that it fittingly ended a very special evening.

l-r: Adrianne Pope, Misha Vayman, Tae Yeon Lim, Virginie d’Avezac, Ramesh Kumar Kannan,
Todd Mason, Sara Andon, Rachel Mellis, Bennie Fried.


Mason Home Concert, 3484 Redwood Ave., Mar Vista, CA 90066, 6:00 p.m., Saturday, June 11, 2022.
Images: The performance: Courtesy Todd Mason; Sibelius: composer website; Doppler: Wikimedia Commons; Morricone: National Public Radio; Bach manuscript: IMSLP.

If you found this review to be useful, interesting, or informative, please feel free to Buy Me A Coffee!