Archive for May, 2010

City of Art: The 17th Biennale of Sydney

The 17th Biennale of Sydney succeeds spectacularly as an act of urbanism. At a time when the practice of creative urbanism in this city finds itself uncomfortably confined between the immobile sandstone cliffs of stodgy bureaucracy and the wiles of crony developers, the real deal is most welcome, even if it is only temporary. Aside from the quality of the art, which is surprisingly high, it is clear that the Biennale organizers and curator David Elliott have succeeded in a genuine act of Urban Doing, that jolly competitor to the familiar discipline of urban planning.

Alias Man Ray: The Art of Reinvention, at the Jewish Museum, New York, November 15, 2009 – March 14, 2010

In preparing his probing, focused, and entirely convincing examination of Man Ray, Mason Klein can hardly have been under the illusion that the artist—or his Manes—would thank him for resurrecting his persona along with his art. Indeed, the exhibition presents an irresistible case for the originality and, above all, the enduring power of Man Ray’s art to fascinate. However, in order to find his individuality, the curator found it necessary to dissect Man Ray’s life and character, which was as much a construct as any of his collages or Dada objets. In order to create, Man Ray had to create himself, and at times in his life this self-creation was and end in itself, even his primary expression. His invented self not only gave him a more comfortable face to present to the world, it gave him the freedom to work as an artist, just as he needed Paris as the the stage for his performance as Man Ray. Klein’s examination is anything but non-destructive. Once he has finished lifting the layers off Man Ray’s self-construction, there is nothing left. While I believe there is credit in respecting an artist’s vision of him or herself—good manners are not at all out of place in art history—I believe Man Ray’s unmasking was absolutely necessary in this case, in order for us to understand his art and to appreciate it with new respect, but without mythologies or adulation.

Berg’s Lulu Revived at the Met after an Eight-Year Absence

Lulu is an enigma. It is one of the greatest operas of the 20th century. Those two observations are not as unrelated as they might appear. The truth of opera is in its musically expressed emotions; the literal stories are inherently ambiguous, open scripts available to the personalities of singers and directors for interpretation. In opera, emotional conditions are their own reasons for being; causes and explanations take second place. As a result, the ‘meanings’ of operatic plots and characters can be endlessly redefined. Lulu is a particularly active site of contention, pulling into its powerful orbit many of the aesthetic, political, and social controversies that have characterized its time and our own. The emotions embodied in Berg’s extraordinary score rock us back on our heels and at the same time ask us to examine critically ourselves and our responses, ultimately our own identities. In a way that seems almost unfathomable, Berg brings together the antinomial theatrical aesthetics of Wagner and Brecht, and leaves them to fight it out once the final curtain goes down.

No Dudamania in San Francisco: Dudamel leads the LA Philharmonic in Bernstein and Tchaikovsky

There is a sound you sometimes hear after midnight, high up in Manhattan. It comes from maybe thirty blocks away. Very faint. In the stillness of your mind, you know it is a lonely taxi horn dancing with the doppler effect. But in the small hours of the city, you wonder who might be riding home amongst sleeping millions, and how boozily, and what love affairs or personal dramas are about to begin or end. New York is like that. In its darkness, taxis are crickets, and you listen.

Da Corot a Monet: La Sinfonia della Natura, Complesso del Vittoriano (Rome) until June 29th.

Impressionism is often described as an obsession with light. Indeed it was. Monet was on a frantic quest to record each and every glimmer of light that happened to strike his eye. Yet light was not the only inspiration for him and his friends. As this exhibition shows, the inspiration of nature was ever-present in their work even though its meaning for their artistry is ever-elusive. One thing everyone agrees upon is that nature was more than a ready excuse to paint en plein air. Consensus continues to grow about the parallels between the innovative artistic language of the Impressionists and their distinctive view of nature as a dynamic equilibrium composed of countless elements held together in a tenuous harmony.

Eschenbach conducts Schumann and Zemlinsky with the San Francisco Symphony—and an Appreciation of Zemlinsky

The San Francisco Symphony gave two performances last Saturday night–one it may have been unhappy with–and one it may have been unhappy about.

This somewhat unusual state of affairs began with an annoucement from the stage that the concert was being delayed. I had wondered at the half empty hall, something you don’t normally see in San Francisco. Dysfunction on the Golden Gate Bridge, as it turned out. A number of players were stuck and much of the audience was still in transit.

In Spite of Fabio Luisi’s Absence, a Glorious Ring at the Semperoper in Dresden

This full realization of the Ring as drama became the unifying principle of the production, as it was perhaps meant to be, but unified musical direction was lacking—the greatest challenge the participants faced—since the Music Director of the Staatskapelle, Fabio Luisi, who is now basking in adulation in New York—justifiably, as it would seem from his sensitive reading of Berg’s Lulu—summarily cancelled his engagements with the orchestra, following a set-to with the Intendant, Gerd Uecker. (We are interested in music drama here, and this is not the place to tell this unpleasant story.) In the end, Luisi was not greatly missed, although the most significant shortcomings of the Ring as a whole stemmed from the weaknesses of one of the three conductors who took over the Maestro’s responsibilities. On the contrary, the audience had ample reason to rejoice in Asher Fisch’s energetic and visceral Siegfried, and, even better, in the discovery of an extraordinary new talent, Jonas Alber, who, at 41, is little known outside Germany

Creditors, The Donmar Warehouse, BAM, NYC

Strindberg’s Creditors is a turbulent study of marriage as hell. Relationships turn vile, and contemptuous lovers hurl sarcastic barbs and accusations at one another like poisoned arrows. The fragile foundations of love crack under pressure and allegiances turn and return and turn again. The new production of this ferocious three-hander, directed by Alan Rickman, is a smart, if heavy-handed, barrage of recriminations and abuse. Insight and authentic emotion are buried beneath the avalanche of cynicism, but Creditors invigorates with its hard-boiled sexual politics and crisp articulations of hate.

As the final concert of the Cantata Singers’ Schütz Season approaches, David Hoose talks about music in Boston, Choral music, and Bach

On May 14 the Cantata Singers will close their season, devoted to the music of Heinrich Schütz and related composers with an all-Schütz program of late works. On this occasion Music Director David Hoose chats with Michaerl Miller about music in Boston, choral music, and the Cantata Singers.