Archive for the 'Performances' Category

Alive with Music

Published
by
dtclarinet
on July 27, 2008
in Musician's Life, Orchestral Playing, Performances and The Music
. 0 Comments

OK, so I go for the corny, million dollar phrases, but the title Alive with Music captures so much of what we strive for as musicians. Over the past half century, recordings have both stimulated and undermined the popularity of live classical music. On the one hand, recorded music allows ready access and exposure to music by those who might not have had the opportunity to hear much. I could ask myself, “Would I have become a clarinetist if I hadn’t fatefully heard that recording of Robert Marcellus playing the Mozart Clarinet Concerto?”

However, recordings also create a false standard for live music performances. Current technology allows for recordings to be edited down to the level of single notes, so it is possible for all flaws to be removed from almost any recording before it is released. Granted, the music is still performed by live orchestras, but the drama of the moment, with close calls, near misses, and belly flops, has been removed to be replaced by the security of artificial perfection by correction. (I wrote an article about this subject saeveral years ago, called Music Recordings Byte Reality.)

What I am trying to say is this. Though the music may be the same, the difference between a live performance and a recording is as apples are to oranges.

Tonight, the musicians of the Columbus Symphony had a triumphant performance in Vets Memorial Auditorium. The crowd of at least 2000 swarmed in late, with many people caught in the snarled traffic jam involving the Jazz and Rib Fest., which shared parking lots with our event. Even our conductor’s arrival at the hall was delayed by the traffic. One supporter friend emailed me after the performance telling me they were turned away for parking and missed the concert.

The conductor for tonight’s concert was Alessandro Siciliani, who was Music Director of the Columbus Symphony for 12 years. He certainly has an avid following, and the electricity of a live performance is most definitely enhanced by the audience in attendance. Tonight, the repeated standing ovations signaled their adoration for him, and for us through him. Maestro Alessandro had no trouble living up to his reputation in his performance, both with the orchestra and his adoring fans.

His tempos were characteristically exciting and very, very flexible; something akin to riding fast on a rubber roller coaster, most assuredly an exhilarating ride. Yet, despite the musician’s occasional discomfort, something exudes from a performance with “Big Al” which could never happen again, ever. Each moment is unique, and something to be cherished as it passes forever into oblivion. And the audiences of Columbus tune into that energy, as if it’s something they have needed to feel for a long time, to be reminded of the preciousness (and excitement) of the moment.

The musicians of the Symphony were proud to have members of the Cleveland, Pittsburgh and Cincinnati orchestra in our midst tonight, creating a new level of attention and freshness to our playing. Those orchestras in turn are showing their respect for us as a world class musical group by their willingness to play music with us. Again, the unique spirit of this performance will never be recreated.

As an encore, Alessandro wanted to play the entire last movement of the Dvorak 8th symphony we had just played. We tried to start a murmuring revolt, repeating a rehearsal number near the end, which would allow us all to play just the last page. After all, we were tired! But Al persisted, and we played the whole last movement again. And, much as I hate to admit it, I ENJOYED doing it a second time. It gave me a chance to squeeze a little more emotion out of every note. The orchestra sounded fantastic both times, but even more free and spirited the second. That’s something a recording can’t do.

One inside story needs to be shared. During Rossini’s Overture to the Italian Girl in Algiers, someone’s metronome (a clicking device to assist with rhythm practice) somehow clicked on in their case, during the middle of the performance. We were all very busy with lots of notes, and no one had time to search nearby bags and cases to locate the rogue metronome. The thing is, the beat of the clicking device was much, much slower than the piece we were playing. There was something comical about this lazy, summer-night-rhythm ticking away blandly in contrast with the flurry of hurried activity going on the woodwinds (where the metronome was centered). The little thing just happily clicked it’s laid back tempo until the end of the piece. I offer commendations to those woodwind players who had to play difficult, rhythmic solos to play while this lazy beat persisted in the background.

Ah, there’s nothing quite like a live performance of music, or I should say a performance “alive with music”.

Mozart’s Café Chamber festival a Success

Published
by
dtclarinet
on July 23, 2008
in Behind the Scenes, Clarinet, Our Supporters, Performances and The Music
. 0 Comments

I just arrived home after a stimulating and busy day. I have to thank Mozart’s Café and Bakery for hosting a delightful evening (5-9 PM) of music and food. Everyone had a great time. Luckily the hot weather let up a bit so people could spill out onto the patio and listen to the music from afar. But no one minded. They mingled in and out if they wanted to hear one piece close up.

All the musicians involved, David Niwa, Ariane Sletner, Ken Matsuda, Luis Biava, David Thomas, Betsy Sturdevant, Robert “Woody” Jones, and Mariko Kaneda seemed to have fun playing a great variety of chamber music, from duos to trios to solos with piano.

I enjoyed playing an early Divertimento, K 229, of Mozart, written originally for two clarinets and basset horn, but arranged for two clarinet and bassoon, with my colleagues, Betsy and Woody. There was a blend between the three of us which, on occasion, went beyond three instruments and became one instrument, like an organ. I have to admit, sheepishly, that we didn’t rehearse. But we have played those same pieces together in the past, thought it was 15 years ago. I guess we have good memories.

I also felt at ease playing the Paul Jeanjean Carnival of Venice variations with the steady and focused accompaniment of Mariko Kaneda.

The food and pastries donated by Anand Saha, owner of Mozart’s, were spectacular and complimented the European music beautifully.

I do not think I am presumptuous in saying that all those involved would love to do something like this again.

I know Columbus loves us.

Somehow the news that the CSO management has canceled more of next season’s scheduled concerts seems like a mouse roaring in a cave. It appears to me like a vindictive and desperate move. Perhaps Columbus would agree. And only God and those in power in Columbus, I mean those REALLY in power, know why they seem to be trying to kill music in our City. Yet, perhaps God knows a bit better, and perhaps he is watching very closely.

Carnival of Venice

Published
by
dtclarinet
on July 23, 2008
in Musician's Life, Performances and The Music
. 0 Comments

This evening at Mozart’s Café I will be performing a set of variations on the popular folk theme, Carnival of Venice, arranged by Paul Jeanjean, an early 20 century French clarinetist known for his difficult but beautiful études for clarinet and also for flute. Several other members of the Symphony will join me in a wonderful variety of great chamber music.

I am happy to say, the event is officially sold out. It is one of many fundraisers organized by grassroots supporters and the musicians themselves to support the beleaguered members of the Columbus Symphony, who were unfairly locked out of work June 1st, work legally contracted to them by CSO management, lead by Tony Beadle and Buzz Trafford. It continues to strike me as odd that the very people who should be leading the struggle to save the symphony are, to all public and private appearances, doing the opposite, destroying the soul of a great orchestra in Columbus.

The Venice song is probably familiar to most people, and has been made particularly famous more by the variations written on it than any original sources. I searched for some history of the melody and found only references to the numerous variations for any number of instruments, from flute to tuba. Wikipedia wasn’t much help, except to note that the song is associated with the words, “My hat, it has three corners”, not very Italian sounding. If anyone has further knowledge of the history of this tune, let me know. (someone forwarded more Wiki info on the piece-More than 150 years ago, French cornetist and teacher Jean Baptiste Arban created the method book, which became the standard manual for brass players all over the world. His playing of and compositions for the cornet helped to establish it as a serious classical instrument. He wrote this set of variations in the early 1860s, undoubtedly inspired by Niccolo Paganini’s 20 variations for violin on the same air, which has been attributed both to Paganini and to German opera composer Reinhard Keiser.)

Here is a fine recording of the Jeanjean variations I will play, performed by Duncan Prescott.

Carnival of Venice - Duncan Prescott (Clarinet)

Enjoy!

Greg Kufchak, contributing balanced perspective

Published
by
dtclarinet
on July 21, 2008
in Behind the Scenes and Performances
. 0 Comments

Greg Kufchak, who has written another excellent article on the new blog, Columbus Symphony Musicians Blog, needs some mention of his background to give you perspective on the validity of his thinking.

With over 30 years experience as a technical and business support professional in the field of Information Technology, Greg was a past vice-president of the Columbus Symphony Youth Orchestra Association. He also a graphic artist and designer; an audio/video producer; a luthier, owning and operating his own shop; and a composer and arranger. His family’s 6 children are all accomplished string players, 2 of whom have performed in Carnegie Hall.

Saturday’s Spectacular Concert

Published
by
dtclarinet
on July 14, 2008
in Behind the Scenes, Musician's Life, Orchestral Playing, Our Supporters and Performances
. 1 Comment


It’s amazing what a group of people can do in a short time when they put their collective mind to it. In the past two weeks the musicians, shut out by their own board and management, went into action and self-produced two concerts, a family concert Friday and a tour de force Saturday in Vets Memorial Auditorium.

Ten days ago we didn’t even know who the conductors would be. Nor did we know where we would get stands and chairs, or who would be generous enough to let us borrow the music we needed. We didn’t have a way to sell tickets, or a box office of any sort. We had no stage crew, and no insurance for the concerts in case someone got injured. Boy, did we learn fast!

With the untiring focus of our “concerts committee”, formed of a dozen or so musicians from the orchestra, the concerts seemed to take shape out of thin air. As I read the email reports, I offered to help, and became involved with centralizing the coordination of volunteers. When Donna Gerhold of the Women’s Association of the CSO, emailed me offering to help, I seized on the opportunity. A few days later, I phoned my friend Jayne Gocken to ask if she would volunteer. Jayne used to run the Granville Symphony, and so has a lot experience working the front of the auditorium as the audience arrives. She jumped on it and shot off a list of questions to me which lead to some very useful outcomes, such as passing clipboards around to gather contact information from supporters so we can notify them of future events.

After one orchestra meeting, David Edge, a violinist in the orchestra, offered to go to Staples to buy the clipboards and lined paper for the signup lists. That was the day before the first concert. Things seemed to fall into place.

The concert itself went very smoothly, with E.J. Thomas as MC introducing each piece from the podium, with Jaime Morales-Matos leading the orchestra through vigorous and exciting tempos, with the heart-felt ceremonial presentation of a plaque from the Musicians of the Columbus Symphony to Marines from the Lima Company for proud service to their country, down to the excited applause between each piece and at the end.

Several musicians commented that the acoustics were not as bad as we remembered it, having rehearsed there for some Picnic with the Pops events. If we could move forward on the stage, toward the audience, the hall would fill with our music even better. The reverb (sound feedback from the hall) was not bad, a bit harsh, but better than the Ohio Theater. The stage of Vets Memorial is also suitably wide to allow the orchestra to spread out, which is the normal configuration for orchestras allowing more of the sound to get off the stage. (Unlike the box shape of the Ohio Theater stage, which bounces much of the sound back into the orchestra, rather than out to the audience. In other words, the Ohio Theater doesn’t give the patron their money’s worth.)

Considering the cavernous size of the auditorium (3600 seats) and a week’s notice for publicity, we had a good crowd, over 1500. Just think what will happen when we REALLY plan it ahead and have learned from this experience. I hope you are able to join us for our next thrilling concert!

Our First Self-Managed Concert!

Published
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dtclarinet
on July 12, 2008
in Columbus Cultural Politics, Our Supporters and Performances
. 0 Comments

It’s like having a baby. Lots of work, but worth it, because it’s YOURS. Last night we had our first.

We had a blast, and so did the audience. After a 5 minute standing ovation when Jim Akins announced, “We are the Musicians of the Columbus Symphony”, we knew we were in the right place and all on the same page!

Here are some photos, taken by David Tanner, violinist in the orchestra. There are more at Symphony Musicians Photos.
Kids loved it too
The crowd overflowed
What a great view of it all from the inside

Musicians Concerts this Weekend

Published
by
dtclarinet
on July 8, 2008
in Behind the Scenes, Musician's Life, Off the Record, Our Supporters, Performances and Personal
. 0 Comments

Several folks have inquired regarding details of this weekend’s concerts by musicians of the Columbus Symphony. If you don’t have time to read my passionate philosophical explorations :-) on the implications of the phrase “musicians concerts”, all the information you need for the concerts is HERE. Also, we need volunteers to sell tickets and usher for the Saturday evening concert. Please contact Donna Gerhold at gerhold@insight.rr.com to find out what you can do. Breaking news: Now you can buy tickets at MCSO Concerts, the musician concerts website.

Now for my philosophical entreaty on the value of live classical music:

I can’t help but notice the playful redundancy of the phrase “musicians concert”; yet there it is, in all it’s ironic nakedness. It sounds so honest and real, as opposed to the “such and such symphony orchestra”, which already sounds corporate. (although the word corporate, beyond its business use, also means “united or combined into one”, an ideal for a group of musicians from a musical point of view)

When did the “musicians’ get replaced by an “institution” or an “organization”? As if they didn’t exist in the flesh, but only in terms of something else!

Has the time come when all sides will band together, no pun intended, to make the music happen?

Judging from the recent event here in Columbus and also the longterm history of professional music making, the question arises; How do we traverse this sludge of tradition and habit to attain the pure goal embodied in the phrase musicians concert? We don’t want to throw the good out with the bad. Yet, isn’t that part of the American spirit, to look unflinchingly with fresh eyes and see, or attempt to see, what is of real value and what is dead weight?

Another question; Are these upcoming concerts just a “job” for us, the musicians? After all, we have to make a living at what we do to continue to do it. Then there’s the aching question, what constitutes “making a living”? But we won’t go there just now. Let us assume the concept of “free market” thinking will fumble it’s way to some real truth, if we continue to ask the right questions. Such as, what is the value of the music we play? Can a dollar sign really be placed on the complex emotions aroused by great classical music?

The quality of the music is certainly an important factor. Any “product” (I hate to use the word here) has a “value”. But what system, or organization, determines that value? Are fads valuable because they sell well for awhile?

Continuing with the idea of fads, why is it that many, many people gravitate toward classical music as they age? Shouldn’t their wisdom and experience count as a meaningful indication of the “value” of the music they wish to hear?

Bear with me, I need to work this through.

A few weeks ago, I drove the seven hours trip to Bethesda, MD, where I grew up, to visit with my mother and sister for a few days. I always listen to music on the trip. Since classical music has trouble cutting through the substantial hum of the highway, I picked a half dozen pop/world pop CDs from the library to play during the driving time.

I didn’t listen to more than 5 minutes of any of those CDs. These CD’s were so insipid, all of them, Shafqat Ali Khan, pseudo Indian music (I grew up in India, and heard numerous “classical” Indian concerts), Jolie Holland (get a composer), Astor Piazzolla (a real classical composer) remixed (huh???!), even Steely Dan, whom I used to listen to, seemed washed out, stale. Am I getting old? At least “rock” music didn’t try to impress anyone, and won over hearts and minds with that idea!

Back to the subject: musicians concerts! I could go on with the yadayadayada of how dedicated we are, how much time we spend practicing, how much money we spend on our equipment. Even though it’s all true, we made those choices, after all. So what is all our effort worth? Is it up to the public to decide? You’re darn right? People with whom we share all our passion and dedication, the process and the outcome, the suffering and the joy, the growing pains and the growth spurts, will be like family to us, and us to them. They will love us for what we do, not the product we make.

That’s the real value of music, and especially classical music, which is by FAR the most difficult AND rewarding type of music there is, both for members of the audience and the musicians. (except for really great jazz)

OK, I’ve had my say. Now for some details about this weekend’s concerts. Friday’s concert is for kids of all ages. David Tanner, whose untiring efforts to produce the most complete web site about and for musicians and their supporters, has put all the information you could possibly need, including a big satellite photo with big red arrows pointing to parking, and red warnings of problems you might have getting there, plus really nice, big photos of the venue, HERE. (Hint: You will need to bring your own chairs/blankets)

Saturday’s 7:30 PM concert is at Vets Memorial, 300 West Broad St. Columbus, OH 43215. We need VOLUNTEERS for Saturday’s concert, at least 20, to help out with ticket sales and seating and other very important details to make this concert work for all of us! Please contact Donna Gerhold (gerhold@insight.rr.com) for how you can help.

Please forgive us all (the musicians as a group) for any glitches in this process. We are on a steep, steep learning curve. But don’t worry, we learn fast, but we can’t do it without you. We may be experts at the unbelievably complex details of phrasing Brahms, but need all of you to stay the course with us as we begin to make Brahms’ music, and all classical music, YOURS!

Announcing Musician’s New Website

Published
by
dtclarinet
on July 2, 2008
in Behind the Scenes, Our Supporters and Performances
. 0 Comments

Thanks to the hard work and dedication of one symphony musician, Julia Rose, Associate Principal/Third Horn, we now have a terrific website where supporters of The Musicians of the Columbus Symphony can find their way to us directly.

The site is brand, spanking new. Features will be added soon, so keep checking back. While you’re at it, “favorite” it, so you can come back often.

The Last Stand

Published
by
dtclarinet
on June 1, 2008
in Behind the Scenes, Our Supporters, Performances, Personal and columbus symphony orchestra
. 3 Comments

Clarinet StandTonight, for the first time in 18 years, I brought my clarinet stand home from the Ohio Theater. After 18 years of being thrown around and used, it’s still solid and sturdy.

My grandfather made this double clarinet stand for me in the early 1980’s. He passed away in 1986. He loved making things in his retirement, having been an engineer and fine tool designer for much of his career.

He made things to last a lifetime. I also have several lamps around my house which were made by him. It seems that the knack for making things with that kind of quality has gotten lost, somehow, in the shuffle to make things cheap, and by extension, disposable.

Welsh Hymns and MelodesMy grandfather, William, also loved music. He was Welsh and sang in choirs all his life, though he didn’t read a musical note. He sang and harmonized by ear.

Up to the end of his life, he attended yearly gatherings of Welsh Gymanf Ganu, grand choirs of thousands who came together for a few days annually simply to sing hymns. Can you imagine being in a choir of thousands?

After bringing home the clarinet stand he made, I wondered what William would have to say about the attitude from “on high” in this city about the Columbus Symphony, about the surreal silence Columbus is experiencing from those who should know better about the importance of the Arts?

Tonight we played what may be that last concert as the Columbus Symphony. We couldn’t have had a better person to experience such a poignant and wistful event: Marvin Hamlisch.

Marvin not only put forth his usual wit, humor and beloved music making, but he took the time, he took lots of time, to put forth the argument for sustaining the arts in any city, and especially Columbus, a large and vigorous city which hardly knows it’s own potential.

Before the final number, he stalled and stalled, not wanting to end. He said, (and I paraphrase) “I wish we could stop the clock now, so we wouldn’t have to end; but I promise, I hope, this will not be the end, but only a hiatus.” He said, in the voice of Arnold Schwarzenegger, “We’ll be back!” He said, “Sometimes, you have to lose, or almost lose, what you have to appreciate it.”

He also said, “If and when this crisis is over, I will come back and play a concert here as a fund raiser, and I’ll donate my services. There’s one condition, however; that I will get for my services a pint of Graeter’s black raspberry chip ice cream, with one spoon, not two, because that ice cream is a taste of heaven.”

Appropriately, the encore featured two esteemed senior members in the orchestra, Steve Secan and Randy Hester, who have been playing music with the CSO since the mid 1970’s. Also fitting was the song we played, “Somewhere Over the Rainbow”.

Our audience gave us a standing ovation several times, showing their appreciation for us as people and for the Columbus Symphony as a valuable asset to the city.

After the concert, there were teary goodbyes between colleagues who have worked and grown together as human beings.

I didn’t participate much in that ritual. I don’t like goodbyes. Call me superstitious. I believe the people I meet and part from will always be in my life.

I also believe “We’ll Be Back!” Like my grandfather’s clarinet stand, the Columbus Symphony was made to last.

Surfboards ready?

Published
by
dtclarinet
on May 16, 2008
in Off the Record, Our Supporters, Performances and The Music
. 7 Comments

(Addendum: the music critic who reviewed last night’s concert, Barbara Zuck, didn’t stay to hear our incredible performance of Bolero, in what may end up being the Columbus Symphony’s LAST classical concert. Players, whom she’s heard for 30 years give their lives to the music, may now be forced to fall silent. She barely mentioned the orchestra in what she did write. Deadline or not, I find the gesture irresponsible and uncaring. Yet, if Zuck is behaving against her best interests in supporting fellow artists in the orchestra, it begs the question, who is pulling her strings?)

You know how a Tsunami starts with a huge VOID? The water drops away from the shore before the wave rises. Well, the water has been pulling away from the shore of the Symphony for awhile, but now it’s rising into a huge wave of support for the orchestra.

Tonight’s concert, with the amazing Yo Yo Ma leading us to ever higher levels of music making, and our beloved Junichi picking up where Ma left off, was a surge even higher than last week, which was already substantial music making (and appreciation of it) from us all.

The crowd tonight filled the house to the brim, and even Buzz Trafford, board president, felt he deserved to bask in it a bit, announcing that if we were playing in Severance Hall (Cleveland’s concert hall, smaller than the Ohio Theater), 500 people would be without seats. Keep basking Buzz, but don’t forget to zip up your wet suit. The water may be a bit colder than you like it.

The delightful Rosamunde Overture by Schubert allowed us all to settle in and enjoy the anticipation of excitement ahead. Schubert’s airy melodies floated from the orchestra like feathers in a tropical breeze. The world of music knows no budget limits or recession. And the orchestra played like a million bucks. If only we knew how to translate that wealth into greenbacks.

I didn’t have a part to play in the Haydn cello concerto, so I heard it from back stage. Ma may earn a chunk of change for one performance, but he puts out the goods. I doubt Haydn could have ever imagined his perfect concerto played MORE than perfectly. Not only was the performance flawless, at least from back stage, but it had drama, delight, intimacy, excitement and joy among its colorful moods. I watched some of the rehearsal with Ma and found myself rapt not only with his playing, but the effortlessness of his body language as he played.

Needless to say, the crowd went wild. For Haydn? As I think about this a drone plays in my ear, like some kind of repetitive torture, telling me classical music is outdated, a dying art, insupportable by the market. The market seems to be changing its tune, and those who really should be listening are tone deaf.

After intermission, Ma played the Saint-Saëns cello concerto, one of my favorite pieces by a favorite composer. Perhaps it’s because I had a crush on someone who played it for me in High School. The main melody of the first movement exudes the wavy passion of a slightly tipsy man deeply in love. He loves everyone! Ma laid it out, easy to follow, especially for a tipsy theme. Junichi was right there with him. We all enjoyed the ride. The second and third movements alternate between moods of domestic childhood bliss and a wistful theme which conjures the sweet pathos of life in a way only Saint-Saëns can.

As we rollicked to the very end, we let lose (according to plan) in a way Junichi rarely lets us do. We are just beginning to understand the control with which we are capable of “letting lose”. After nearly two years of working with him, we are just beginning to tap into our potential for controlled passion and power, the energy tapped by the greatest orchestras, from Cleveland to Berlin.

For an encore, Ma joined members of Carpé Diem string quartet, sans orchestra, to play the slow and dramatically rich second movement of Schubert’s Cello Quintet. The quartet was buoyed by Ma’s powerful presence and outdid themselves. Though the piece was a bit long for an encore, the hall was stark silent with focus during the quietest moments of the music.

It was time for the final work of the night, Ravel’s Bolero. Ma pulled up a chair and sat in the back of the cellos. He wanted to join us, and we were honored. He had briefly lauded, in no uncertain terms, our quality as an orchestra and the greatness of our city of Columbus. Junichi also offered some words to our audience. His charm and appeal grow each time he speaks. Without a microphone it was hard to hear him, but the gist was clear; he loves us, he loves the city, and believes deeply in both.

I, along with my woodwind colleagues, was a bit nervous, having to play the ultra soft beginnings of Bolero “cold” after sitting there silent for more than ten minutes. Phil Shipley, who was placed right in front of Junichi, began playing the famous bolero rhythm: tum-tupata tum-tupata tup-tup, tum-tupata tum-tupata tupata-tupata tum.

Randy Hester, principal flute, began the famous theme, which Junichi had coached us to play sensuously, without inhibition. The tempo Junichi chose seemed slow to us at first, perhaps because it’s more difficult to perform the solos effectively and control them at that tempo. Randy held perfect rhythm and added just enough enticement to invite the next soloist, myself.

I had worked on this for a few hours last night, playing it with the metronome over and over to get the control and stability I wanted, from which I could then evoke just a touch of playful flirting. Not too much, however, because I knew there was a long way to go. I was happy with how it went, passing the theme on to my friend Betsy Sturdevant, bassoon.

The bassoon states the second of the two themes the whole piece is built on. It is far more provocative and alluring. Betsy added just the right amount of heat to boost it up a notch and pass it on to Robert (Woody) Jones, my section colleague, playing the highly temperamental Eb clarinet. He repeated the theme presented by Betsy, and notched it up a bit, adding his own style and just the right amount of freedom to the undulating line.

Next up was the Oboe D’amoré, another unusual instrument between an oboe and an English Horn, played by Steve Secan. His melody went back to the first one which Randy and I had played. He laid it down superbly, rhythmic and clean, with just a hint of sensuality, just like his teacher and mentor John Mack would have done.

Junichi knew exactly how to help each person play their best. He coaxed those who needed it, and left others alone, sensing which would work best. The melody, though repeated endlessly, built in volume and color with each statement.

Ravel’s purpose in writing the piece was to experiment with unique tonal color combinations, like Monet did in his paintings, where three painting of the same scene were rendered in completely different colors and moods.

As the piece built, the tempo remained a powerful reality, the clock ticking as we all played our souls out to lure the audience into joining us in our passion. Phil Shipley and Bill Lutz held the hypnotic rhythm in perfect balance between stability and tension, wanting to move but restricted by time. Here lies the key to this piece; picking the right tempo. Junichi had set it perfectly from the first note.

The various solos, all played gloriously, built on each other as bodies heat up each other and feed off that heat to heat up more. The passion rose and rose.

The tempo never budged. The drums were pounding now, with the timpani joining in on three, one…. three, one…. three, one…. three, one. The orchestra played as one large organism. I lost myself completely and just basked in the rich aura of sound.

At the orgasmic end, our audience JUMPED to their feet.

It doesn’t get any better than that!

Are you ready to ride the wave with us?