I have no idea how to judge the sound of an amplified classical orchestra

I found myself sailing in vaguely familiar waters without a nautical chart or a weather forecast at last night's BlackCreek Festival concert, which centred around orchestral music.

The Rexall Centre is big enough (and close enough to Pearson airport) so that the sound of even a full symphony orchestra needs to be amplified. The sound system festival organizers are using picks up the sound from numerous floor-stand microphones arranged around the stage, meaning that output can be mixed with quite a lot of detail. The sound is very good -- clear and balanced from bass to treble, but with the seemingly unavoidable artificial quality that makes the higher strings sound thin and metallic.

The opening concert, featuring Placido Domingo and Sondra Radvanovsky, put the spolight on the voices, so it was easy to ignore the orchestra.

Last night's programme of Prokofiev and Tchaikovsky Romeo and Juliet Suites and Mendelssohn's incidental music for A Midsummer Night's Dream was all about the orchestra (you can read my review in the Star here).

It only took a few bars of the Prokofiev to realise that I had no idea how to judge what conductor Lorin Maazel and the Castleton Festival Orchestra were doing, because a third party had taken over the role usually played by the concert venue in deciding what my ears were going to hear (it was a little bit like watching filmed opera, where the camera director has decided what we're going to see -- and when we're going to see it).

Solos were amped up. The first and second violins were often turned down. The violas (!) came through loud and clear a number of times when they really didn't need to. And, as a nearby friend commented at intermission, "that was the loudest harp I've ever heard."

Normally, this sort of texturing of the score would be the conductor's responsbility. Was Maazel aware of what his efforts sounded like a few metres away from the stage? Would he approve that someone else was second-guessing his dynamic choices?

All three pieces of music are so familiar. The music is easily accessible and filled with evocation and emotion. I can't see what benefit the composer's ideas get from the sonic boost.

Yes, the young players' attacks were, for the more part, clean. They played very, very well. But, even for a critic, listening to orchestral music is much more than a technical exercise.

But technical accuracy was the only criterion I had left to judge the performances. I really did feel adrift.

Unfortunately, I don't know if there's a better way to amplify orchestral music, so I can't offer constructive advice. All I do  know is that, at the Montreal-area Lanaudière festival, to use a single example, I can hear an orchestra play outdoors as nature intended -- without amplification.

Today's free lunchtime concert a great opportunity to catch jazz piano art of Toronto's Chris Donnelly

Today's free noonhour recital at the Toronto Jazz Festival's open stage in David Pecaut Square is excellent young Torontonian Chris Donnelly. His recent solo album, Metamorphosis, a single, 50-minute work of his own creation, was a huge treat. And its well worth brining a take-out lunch to the square to get a sample of his craft.

In case you're not familiar with Donnelly, here's a guick introduction, thanks to last year's edition of the biennial Nottingham International Jazz Competition (Donnelly was one of the four finalists, as he had been on his previous try, in 2008).

If you only have time for one clip, start with Part 2:

 

Time for a non-musical moment: What finer gesture than bringing some Pride to Rob Ford's cottage

I'm more musical than political, but I can't help but applaud a group of people who are, I gather, planning to parade their way up to Rob Ford's cottage this weekend, where he is honouring "tradition" and "family" instead of acting as mayor of all Torontonians.

Part of taking on this kind of a job means sacrificing a lot (if not most) of one's personal life. It's one of the many reasons why otherwise capable and qulified people don't take on public service.

Anyway, brining a bit of colour to cottage country is not a bad idea, is it? For more information on how to join this fabulous flash mob, email info@proudoftoronto.com and check out the group's website or Facebook page.

Let's turn for inspiration to Little Britain's Matt Lucas (as regular character Dafydd), in a number from the live stage show:

I've been blown away by the piano artistry of Jacky Terrasson at today's Toronto Jazz Festival performance

Jackie Terrasson performs inside the concert Steinway at the Glenn Gould Studio on June 27, 2011. Photo: John Terauds

I'm just back from concert no. 2 in the TD Toronto Jazz Festival's four-date presentation of top solo-piano masters at the Glenn Gould Studio.

I was totally blown away by the art of Jacky Terrasson. The 44-year-old puts absolutely everything into his unorthodox interplay of keys, harmonies and rhythms. often, it sounds as if his right hand knoweth not what his left hand is up to -- but it's all part of his incredible art.

This was not on tonight's programme, but is a beautiful example of what Terrasson does. Here is Dame Felicity Lott presenting Francis Poulenc's "Les Chemins de l'amour," (with accompanist Maciej Pikulski at a 2008 recital recorded at the Château de Compiègne), followed by Terrasson's reimagining which, somehow, manages to retain the full meaning and feeling of the text, without ever giving us a single word.

First, Jean Anouilh's text about the elusive traces of love:

Les chemins qui vont à la mer
Ont gardé de notre passage
Des fleurs, des feuilles et l'écho sous leurs arbres
De nos deux rires clairs.

Hélas, des jours de bonheur,
Radieuses joies envolées,
Je vais sans retrouver traces dans mon coeur.

Chemins de mon amour,
Je vous cherche toujours.
Chemins perdus vous n'êtes plus
Et vos échos sont sourds.
Chemins du désespoir,
Chemins du souvenir,
Chemins du premier jour,
Divins chemins d'amour.

Si je dois l'oublier un jour,
La vie effaçant toute chose,
Je veux dans mon coeur qu'un souvenir
Repose plus fort que l'autre amour.

Le souvenir du chemin,
Où tremblante et toute éperdue,
Un jour j'ai senti sur moi brûler tes mains

Just a few simple pieces of fabric enough backdrop for excellent Return of Ulysses opera from Paris

An all-Italian cast and orchestra (period-performace La Venexiana, which started out as a madrigal group) led by Claudio Cavina, presented a fantastic interpretation of Claudio Monteverdi's 1640 "musical drama" Il ritorno d'Ulisse in patria (Ulysses is Back and There's Going to Be Laundry) at the Cité de la musique in Paris last Wednesday, closing the centre's 5th Biennale of Vocal Arts. It is streaming on the web for free at medici.tv, and is well worth a peek and listen.

(La Venexiana presents this touring show again at the Concertgebouw in Amsterdam on Sunday, and at the Stuttgart Baroque Festival on Sept. 14.)

It's a semi-staged effort, with a split orchestra sharing the stage with the singers as a few sheets of fabric. Yet it has all the emotional and musical power of a fully staged performance.

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Here is a strangely compelling blend of old and new by La Venexiana, recorded in 2009: Monteverdi's "Il lamento della ninfa:"

Toronto Consort closes 2011 Music at Sharon series this afternoon with a feast of Shakespeare

Photo: John Terauds

This is the fifth year in a row of June Sunday concerts at the Sharon Temple, a stone's throw beyond the northern limit of Hwy 404 at Green Line.

Initially, the artistic director was Stephen Cera. Now, the Music at Sharon series is co-led by Larry Beckwith and Rick Phillips, who have brought musicians entirely suited to this intimate, acoustically amazing wooden structure that feels like stepping into a time machine.

Over all this time, and despite my love of the Shaker-rustic meeting house, I've been to a single concert. And I suspect that the Sunday mid-afternoon time and the need for a drive all the way up to Newmarket (sometimes on weekends when the Don Valley Pkwy is closed), means that fewer downtowners have made treck than good intentions might suggest.

The fifth and final concert for 2011 happens at 2 p.m., today, as David Fallis's Toronto Consort presents a programme inspired by the plays of Shakespeare. The group's fame has spread considerably over the past few years, as it's supplied music for the TV ministeries on the Tudors and the Medicis. The Consort has performed together for a long time, and they bring polish as well as boundless enthusiasm to what they do.

For all the details, including directions, click here.

Here's the Toronto Consort singing something French, that translates, literally, as "The Dew of the Lovely Month of May," from the mid-16th century:

Anna Russell showed audiences around the world how nothing is funnier than the truth

In preparing the short article on Anna Russell in today's Star, to go with this weekend's performances of Toad: The Anna Russell Story, I realised that what made Russell so funny -- and so popular -- was that she truly never had to make anything up.

Better still, some things don't change. Here's a section from her 1984 Farewell Concert tour where she describes the situation faced by anyone who wants to be an opera singer.

To illustrate her point with current real-world examples, following it is a clip of someone singing "Un bel di" and another avid vocalist rendering "Che gelida manina," for our listening pleasure. Both singers wisely decided to remain anonymous.

I leave Russell with the final note.

Adventurous pianist John Kameel Farah back in Toronto to present new creations tonight in Mirvish Village

One of our city's most intriguing experimenters, John Kameel Farah, has finished recording Between Carthage and Rome, a new album of new works in Berlin, and is ready to give us a preview in a live set tonight at 8, at Beit Zatoun in Mirvish Village (612 Markham St.).

Expect a blend of ancient, Renaissance and electronic -- something you're not likely to hear anywhere else. It's powered by an amazingly keen mind, unbounded curiosity  -- and impressive technique.

If you're in an Elizabethan frame of mind, check out a very nice recent recording of Farah's of William Byrd's Lady Nevell's Grounde -- done totally straight on harpsichord -- on Farah's website.

For something more au courant, here is Farah improvising in Berlin's Church of the Holy Cross last summer:

Organist Cameron Carpenter boldly flying uncharted galaxies as a champion of a virtual one-man symphony

 

Cameron Carpenter in rehearsal at Koerner Hall on June 15, 2011. Photos: John Terauds

Boldly unorthodox American organist Cameron Carpenter, who turns 30 this year, has never been more focused about changing the culture surrounding pipe-organ concerts.

Moses Znaimer invited him to this year's IdeaCity conference, which was held at the Royal Conservatory's Telus Centre last week. Carpenter had thought he would give a concert, but Znaimer also wanted attendees to hear about the organist's quest to build the perfect electronic substitute for the notoriously cranky and maintenance-intensive traditional pipe organ.

I sat down with Carpenter a few days later to catch up over a long breakfast.

It's been a year of changes for him: He's now with mega artist-managers CAMI and has moved to Berlin, which has turned into quite the Mecca for adventurous younger creative souls in search of open-minded audiences and cheap rents.

In Berlin, Carpenter has found the perfect large hall to house his dream instrument: a five-manual virtual concert organ designed to make any sound he desires, require (virtually !) no maintenance and be easy to pack up and ship to any location with an electrical wall outlet.

The organist is trying to raise $1.5 million (U.S.) to make this all happen. Although this sounds like a ridiculous amount of money for a pipeless pipe organ, my guess it's less than half of what it would cost to build the real thing -- and the real thing would not be going anywhere in a hurry.

The electronic engineering expertise for all this comes from Marshall & Ogletree, a small outfit in suburban Boston that has developed a particularly effective way to generate the complex waveforms needed to make a digital pipe organ sound like the real thing.

Carpenter himself is the specification brains -- figuring out just what kinds of sound should be assigned to each stop, how to arrange groups of stops for each manual, and how they can each (and all) be combined and recombined on the fly.

As we spoke, Carpenter revealed how he has even dabbled in the oh-so-fine art of modifying the sound waves of one tone to sound like another.

It's all a bit mind-boggling, but the short version of all this is that Carpenter is one of the rare artists who has the brain power and outside-the-box creativity to completely reshape their artform.

Exhibit A: Him rehearsing his paraphrase of Franz Schubert's Erlkönig on a Mighty Wurlitzer theatre organ for his latest album, Cameron Live!:

If you take Carpenter out of his creative context, it's easy to mistake him as arrogant and, at the extreme, a lunatic. Many professional organists look askance, because he repeats and over and over again how organists need to get out of the way of their own instrument.

Given how small and rarefied the world of concert organists is -- and how small and rarefied are its audiences -- I think people like Carpenter should be given as much encouragement as possible. 

There is no other instrument in the history of humankind that is capable of the breadth of expression as the organ. As the great English and French organ builders of the late 19th century intended, it is literally an orchestra in a box -- so why not approach it like Gustavo Dudamel and blow an audience's hair sideways in the process.

As for the electronic organ, there are so many bad ones out there, that it's difficult to keep an open mind.

I haven't been happy with the sound of the virtual organ Cameron has now used twice in Ontario concerts (a digital replica of a beast made in 1928 by E.M. Skinner for Our Lady of Mount Carmel in Chicago). But Carpenter insists that his great Dream Opus (my name, not his) by Marshall & Ogletree will be wart-free.

It will even have special features, such as the ability to change each stop's temperament (the tuning setup) on the fly. ("Equal temperament can be so boring, after a while," said Carpenter.) The organist told me how, in one piece by Bach he has recorded, he goosed the tuning towards a towering climax, just to heighten the experience.

Purists are, justifyably, turned off by this sort of interpretive license. But there are many orchestras in the world -- the New York Philharmonic comes to mind -- that tune their strings sharp for the very same reason. They just can't do it in the middle of a piece.

The debate will continue over the pros and cons of showmanship vs toiling in relative obscurity. I'm happy to be around to watch and listen.

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Since my main skepticism with digital organs is over the quality of their sound, I played several videos Marshall & Ogletree have made of their Opus 5, installed in 2008 at Florida's newly minted Ave Maria University chapel -- with specifications by Cameron Carpenter. It's sounds very impressive on my Bose speakers.

This organ has many of the features Carpenter would have on his own instrument. The first video, of a Tuba Tune by C.S. Lang, provides a visual tour of the console and speaker array and Doug Marshall makes the merry noise.

The second video is of Brian Gilkes playing Olivier Messiaen's Dieu parmi nous (if this isn't totally convincing as an affirmation of faith, I don't know what is) on Marshall & Ogletree's more traditionally executed digital Op. 6, at Gordon College (in the Boston area).

The third clip is of the Tuba Tune by Norman Cocker played by the great traditional English organist Colin Walsh at one of my favourite traditional English organs, the great 1898 Father Willis at Lincoln Cathedral.

It's too bad we're still debating value of pop vs classical rather than appreciating music on its own merits

Last night, I dropped in on a private preview of some music that is coming to town next season. It was a fascinating experience for me, on several levels. But one thing stood out: The composer's embarassment over musical style.

The composer should have been able to stand up in front of a roomful of Toronto arts patrons and say, Ladies and gentlemen, you are about to hear excerpts from one of the most emotionally challenging rock operas ever written.

As a listener, I should have been able to listen and come to my personal choice of liking or disliking based on that.

Instead, the work is being called an oratorio, and the composer apologised several times for the music's accessible style, because he wanted it to be considered as something serious.

I felt sorry that we live in a culture where something "popular" can't be considered by many critics as an aesthetic equal to something "serious." This is very well crafted music, just not art music. Does this make it less worthy of praise or consideration or enjoyment? No. But the point of contention lingers, especially in the world of opera -- and it's not about to go away anytime soon.

(I'll have plenty more to wite about last night's work next season.)

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On a related but very different note, here is experimental Vancouver violinist Suzka having some fun with Vivaldi (sorry -- the piece cuts off abruptly at the end):