Rage over a lost concert

As if it is not bad enough that this nasty bug has kept me quarantined for four days now, I had to miss Menahem Pressler with the Muir Quartet, playing at Kleinhans Music Hall's Mary Seaton Room. Our reviewer Garaud MacTaggart got to go instead of me. And he is on Facebook right now gloating about how great it was.

Curse you, Garaud, and the horse you rode in on!

The Muir Quartet is great. I interviewed their leader, Peter Zazofsky, once. The hardest part of it was training myself to say his name. It is a tongue twister! I was walking around for three days going "Mr. Zazofsky" so I would not stumble over it.

But what I am really feeling bad about tonight is Menahem Pressler. I had been looking forward to him forever. I heard him a few years ago and he was wonderful and I did not get to write about him then and I was hoping to write about him this time around.

What is the saying: Man tracht. Gott lacht.

Translation: Menahem Pressler fan plans, God laughs.

Plus he was playing Brahms!


Sniffle sniffle.

Cursed cold.

Here is my consolation prize ... Pressler playing Schubert. It comes in in the middle but it is worth it for the terrified-looking page turner. You have to love those terrified-looking page turners. We should start a Page Turner Hall of Fame, on this blog.

And a Lost Concerts Hall of Fame.

This one would certainly qualify.

Fathers and sons, Part 3

Usually I do not blog twice in one day but today I cannot help it. I just saw the kickiest story in the Wall Street Journal that plays right into our Fathers and Sons theme.

There is this grandson of Serge Prokofiev whose name is Gabriel Prokofiev. He is a DJ in a club. Above is a picture of Gabriel Prokofiev.

I do not know if I would quite call Gabriel Proky a chip off the old block but there might be a bit of family resemblance. Here is his grandfather.


Just in case after reading my earlier post you think I am a crab, I have to say I like what Gabriel Prokofiev is doing, which is presenting what we would generally call classical music side by side with other more pop stuff, like electronic music and indie rock.

The writer, Greg Sandow, is saying this is one way to get new audiences to discover classical music, by presenting it in informal settings, alongside the "pop" music these young listeners already like. You can talk or, as someone in the story suggests, "get rowdy."

That is great, I say!

And it works both ways. Who knows, listeners who love classical music might get to like some of this other stuff if we did not have to sit there silently for two hours and listen to it. I would probably be able to make peace with a lot of new music if I did not have to sit there silently listening to it and growing bewildered and bored.

In any case, interesting ideas, thanks in part to Gabriel Prokofiev. In his honor we listen to his granddaddy's "Visions Fugitives."

Check out the story here.

Fathers and sons, Part 2

This morning I was honored to read a comment from the director of the Galerie St. George on Staten Island regarding my opinions on George Pissarro.

George Pissarro is a funny person to have emerged as a preoccupation of this blog! It is like how my Leonard Pennario blog became mysteriously haunted by the ghost of Peter Piccolo.

The director of the Galerie St. George is named Gary Brant. He said -- nicely, for which I am grateful -- that all I knew was a tiny fraction of George Pissarro's work so I should reserve my judgment.

That is nice of Mr. Brant, to say I knew a tiny fraction of George Pissarro's work. The fact is, I know zero about his work! I wrote what I wrote because I love Camille Pissarro and I did not know how any abstract sculptor could live up to what he had done. That is a painting of Camille Pissarro's pictured above. I never pass up a chance to display one on this blog, that is for sure.

What the heck, let's look at another Pissarro. Camille, that is.


I have to admit, I have this reaction now against contemporary abstract art. And music. It is not my fault. It is an attitude I have learned.

Real quick: I do not think an audience should have to work through what amounts to a doctoral thesis in order to grasp a piece's quality. And over and over I find that is what is happening. It is boring and I am beginning to resent it. Here in Buffalo our Albright-Knox Art Gallery did not help things when it sold off pieces people here loved so they could buy things that, I am sorry, they just do not touch us the same way. It is as if they slapped us in the face and said, "What could you possibly know, you stupid plebs? We are the experts. We will tell you what is best."

Here is a recent acquisition of the Albright-Knox.


Ha, ha! It has an otherness about it! That is what someone said in Woody Allen's "Manhattan."

But I know, I'm the idiot. Once upon a time people said the same thing about Mozart and Rembrandt. If I understood geometry, trigonometry and physics better, I would grasp the importance of this piece. I cannot live in the past. Blah, blah, blah. I have heard all the arguments.

So yes, I am afraid that poor George Pissarro unjustly became my scapegoat. Every artist deserves consideration as an individual, and cannot be made to pay for the sins of his generation (or generations, this goofiness has been going on for a long time).

There are artists in every era whose work deserves appreciation. The trouble is, it is getting harder to find them. New art and new music are a lot like dating. You have to sink a lot of time into it, and kiss an awful lot of toads.

How is that for a screed? That is a word I like, screed. I just looked it up. The meaning that comes closest in this situation is, "A ranting piece of writing."

Here is me living in the past and writing my screed.


That is Vermeer's "A Lady Writing." It is not found at the Albright-Knox.

Well. As Woody Allen says in "Manhattan": "Too angry. I don't want to be angry." I am cheering up watching the link to "Manhattan" above. That is the playing of the Buffalo Philharmonic Orchestra! I found that record on vinyl a while ago at Goodwill. I now own a bit of Buffalo history.

Here is the beginning of "Manhattan." In which you hear "Rhapsody in Blue." And the "too angry" line.

As I fritter away my Saturday ...

La la la la la la la.

The book of Liszts

It is hard to get the hang of Twitter but I figure that because I am writing that book about Leonard Pennario I should be twittering, as they say. So every now and then I check in and I twitter something. I have maybe 6 followers and they are all buddies of mine here in Buffalo so it does not matter what I am twittering.

Today I threw it on up there that I am listening to Liszt. Because that was what I was doing. My tweet, if you can stand this cutesy lingo, read:

"Mary Kunz Goldman is listening to Liszt which is a heck of a thing to listen to before you are through with your first cup of coffee."

Deep!

Then I decided to search around and see what else people were writing about Liszt. I hit "Search" and typed in "Liszt."

Interesting what people have been writing about Liszt in the last 24 hours.

"You should balance out that Brahms with some Franz Liszt."

"Stupid 80's cartoons. Whenever I listen to Liszt's 1st piano concerto the first thing I think about is Gargamel."

"Schubert - Soiree De Vienne No 6 [arranged by Liszt] Pianist Leonard Pennario." (Hmmm, nice. That came from PlayClassicalUK which I imagine must be a radio station.)

"To help my mood I'm listening to one of the most beautiful pieces of music; Liszt's Piano Concerto No 2."

"To help my mood I'm listening to one of the most beautiful pieces of music; Liszt's Piano Concerto No 2. It beats his first *hands down*..." (From the same person)

"life is never too short for some Liszt :-)"

That is for sure.

For a moment I could see the charm of this Twitter business. You can see the glittering thread that is Liszt going all over the world, binding us together, in this one brief segment of time.

Then that moment passed.

Here is the oddball piece I was listening to that got me on to all this. When it is finally the weekend and I can breathe instead of writing these scattered, rushed communiques, it would be interesting to discuss it.

I can't wait till I have time to do more than twitter.

A pianist named Kunz

I have an affection for musicians named Kunz because that is my name. Before on this blog we have talked about the wonderful Viennese baritone Erich Kunz.

Wow, listen to that wonderful aria from "The Countess Mariza."

Where was I?

Oh, right. There is this new pianist, Eduard Kunz. He is a contestant in this year's Van Cliburn International Piano Competition, to be held in Fort Worth, Texas, later this spring. He will be walking out on the same stage I walked out on when I played Schubert in the first, ahem, Van Cliburn International Piano Competition for Outstanding Amateurs. That is Eduard Kunz's picture at the top of this post. He has a kind of Evgeny Kissin thing going on. Only he is better looking than Kissin.

Here is a picture of Evgeny Kissin so we can compare and contrast.


And here is another shot of Kunz. I have decided he is my cousin.


Wow, look! Critics are turning against Evgeny Kissin. Here is the London Evening Standard two years ago:

Evgeny Kissin dazzled at the age of 12 but too often spoils the poetry these days with clangorous tone.

The young Russian Eduard Kunz is a recent addition to the BBC Radio 3 New Generation roster and as he demonstrated in yesterday's lunchtime recital, broadcast live (available for rehearing on the Radio 3 website), he, too, runs the entire gamut from sensitive introspection to fullblooded, muscular pianism.

And it goes from there, praising Kunz to the skies. That was two years ago! Imagine what they are saying about Evgeny Kissin now. Face it, Evgeny. You are out and Eduard Kunz is in. Have a shot of vodka if that makes the truth any easier to swallow.

My family came from Bavaria but Eduard Kunz's family is from Siberia. Sometimes in all honesty Buffalo feels like Siberia, I will say that. Eduard Kunz lives in London now. He is 28.

Here is a clip of Kunz on YouTube. The technical quality is substandard because that is the point where Kunz's career is at, as we like to put it here in Buffalo.

Still he is off to a good start! One commenter on one of Eduard Kunz's YouTube videos writes: "I think he is a genius."

Here is someone blogging about Eduard Kunz. "I have not heard music of such luminous spiritual purity since the days of Dinu Lipatti."

Dinu Lipatti! He will never die!!

All the same I will be cheering on Eduard Kunz as he competes in the 13th Van Cliburn Competition, from May 22 to June 7 this year. It is him, Erich Kunz, Kunz Vogelgesang and me. We are the four Kunzes of music. You would think with Kunz being such a popular name in Germany and a gem being named Kunzite that there would be millions of great musicians named Kunz. But there are not.

Break a leg, Eduard!

Do the family proud!

Ol' Blue Eyes

I always think it is funny how the great pianist Ferruccio Busoni has the most Italian name in the world. Then you look at him and he is this big German.

There is Ferruccio Busoni pictured above. Here he is again. He is pleasant to look at, I will say that. You cannot really see in these pictures that his eyes were blue but I believe that they were. I am sure I have seen that in other photos.



His looks made sense only when I read that Busoni's dad was Italian but his mother was German. It is funny how she allowed his father to name him "Ferruccio." His name was 100 percent Italian even though his looks were not.

My mother and I were once talking about Busoni and my mother said, "His mother must have loved his father very much."

I think that must be true!

I like how Busoni expanded on Bach and other composers, making already difficult pieces that much more difficult. There was a kind of glory in that, a celebration of musical skills. There was a time when people did not respect that kind of artistry. I am happy that now it is being respected again.

Here is Horowitz giving us Busoni's take on Bach.

Always great fun to listen to.

Bach

This morning at Mass they sang the great Bach chorale "O Sacred Head Now Wounded." That is a chorale that breaks my heart. Here is a version on YouTube with beautiful religious images.

Here is a version where all they show is this shooting star and I like that too. The genius of Johann Sebastian Bach! There is a great statue of Bach pictured above. It is in Leipzig.

I love the "St. Matthew Passion."

But you know what I really love? The "St. John Passion."

I had a Seraphim box set when I was a kid and over the years I have just kept listening to this marvelous music. That is so often how things work. Something's cheap, you can afford it, you pick it up, you get to love it.

There is this aria "Ich folge dir gleichsam." I could lip-synch the whole thing. It has this beautiful flute part.

And the ending really gets me. "Ach, Herr, lass dein lieb' Engelein." "O, Lord, send your angels." This is the chorale that ends the whole St. John Passion. By that time you are just beat, and then this piece washes over you and soothes you and makes you cry. Catholics, like me, will be reminded of the beautiful last prayer of funerals, when the priest asks that the angels lead the deceased into paradise, that the martyrs come out to greet him and bear him to Abraham's side.

Here is that chorale that I love in the Cologne Cathedral.

There is often humor in the saddest situations and on this video, the guy who posts it is apologizing for misspelling "bosom," as in "bosom of Abraham." He spells it "bossom."

We should kick around Bach cantatas a little more than we have been doing. I have a whole host of them that I love and like all Bach fans, I am always mentally going over my list and adding to it.

True story: During Holy Week, radio stations love to play the Bach Passions. And once I walked into a bar -- it was the Italian Fisherman -- and they were playing the "St. John Passion." The TVs were muted but the place was noisy and over it all I heard "Ich folge dir gleichsam." With everyone drinking beer.

That was strange!