Last night, I had the (rare) opportunity to hear an ensemble I’ve known about for some time, Les Arts Florissants, directed by William Christie, a Buffalo, NY-born conductor and musicologist. The all-French ensemble presented some major Christmas works by Marc-Antoine Charpentier. I’ve actually never heard this composer in all my Baroque knowings, but it was all good. The ensemble had a really good intonation, and the presentation was crisp and first-rate. Both instrumentalists and singers were on top-form, and I especially liked the no-vibrato technique by the first-violinist. The concert was held at the University of Richmond. It is always distressing, however, to find the audience at such concerts so old. There was a walker (with training wheels) in the entrance area. Why don’t more people my age like this ancient music?

I found this blog post from December 29, 2001, I thought I’d share.

One evening, my dad took us to Jack Baker’s Lobster Shanty, a little family-style seafood restaurant in Rio, Florida. You can read the entire history of the place on their website, if you like. I’ll save myself the trouble. But my dad orders chicken. Seems odd, wouldn’t you think, for a seafood place? Then he only eats half, and claims he’s sick. My mom blames it on the corn fritters which she adored. They had been fried, you see, and my dad doesn’t react well to fried foods. I had a crab cake and shrimp, and my mom ordered the entire fried shrimp dinner. At Jack’s, you get a choice of salad bar or chowder with your meal, and a seemingly complimentary little scoop of cole slaw. Odd, we thought. But my mom started on those hush puppies, pretty much ignored the slaw, and joined us at the salad bar. But come time for the entrees, she was unsure she could finish the large platter. I admit, I was pretty full upon finishing mine. It was decent food, not gourmet, but a worthy dinner. My mom–and this is the interesting part–claimed she was “done” when the waitress came to clear plates. She said, “Oh– you’re done?!” in a half-believed kind of way. The thing was, my mom’s plate was at first glance still very full. But upon close inspection, you could see that she had cleanly bitten-off only the tips of the shrimp. When questioned, “I don’t want to eat the tail.” Hmm. Seems to me you could divide a fried shrimp into thirds: tip, middle, and tail. But out of a petrid fear of getting to close to that handle of a tail (and I’ve known some Filipinos who eat the tail), she only ate the tips. It could have been said, “Oh, there’s a lemon-scented meal o’ SHRIMP TIPS over at table 4…” So yes, my mom only ate a third of her shrimp, the tips.

So, the next time you invite my mom over for a catered affair, be ready to sink an awful lot of money into shrimp tips, because she’ll leave the rest.

My keyboard skills suffer poorly now compared to what I could do, say, 10-20 years ago. I began playing the piano at age 5, the organ at age 4; and I was most active composing music for keyboard throughout my teenage years. Today, I rarely turn on the synthesizer, but for a number of reasons, including time commitments, and the “feel/sound/authenticity” of the synthesizer compared to the old-fashioned piano.

Pianoteq promises the most realistic synthesized sound. Instead of samples, it uses algorithms that virtually “shape” piano sound. I still have more testing to do, but it did sound good. Getting pedal sounds out of it was especially cool.

I may also admit that perhaps my synthesizer keyboard isn’t the best match, and perhaps, something like Pianoteq and a new master keyboard would be in order.

Since 1992, when I graduated from high school, I’ve been playing a Yamaha SY99, 76-key synthesizer. At the time, it was high-end, costing around $4K. It’s giant and heavy. But it lacks the full 88 keys, and the keys are not “weighted” piano-style keys. Instead, they are aftertouch, velocity-sensitive, plastic synth keys.

These aren’t necessarily bad; I play much more quickly with this style of keyboard. But I think to get the most authentic piano sound, you need authentic piano touch.

This tradeoff: electronic vs. physical, reminds me of ideas I had posted on my other blog about books versus reading online. To me,

• the piano, and its physical, mechanical action, has a personality
• the piano doesn’t require electricity
• the piano has that… sound

And yet,

• the electronic keyboard has memory (sequencer)
• the electronic keyboard can change sounds (and mimic different acoustic spaces)
• the computer can play the electronic keyboard

So, there are advantages to adding electricity, in that you can playback what you recorded, notate it, and mix it up a in the digital domain. The tradeoff as been the sound quality and the feel.

I think with a new tool like Pianoteq, when coupled with a more physical-action minded keyboard, the answer may be all the more compelling.

I recently experienced something that would have some folks reaching for the wine bottle, the anti-depressants, or… pulling their hair out. I’ve never believed in treating stress or sorrow with chemicals.

Instead, I pull up my Bach. Specifically, this evening, his most profound work (my opinion, sure), the Kunst der Fuge. Last movement. Deeper than a gallon tub of ice cream, more rich than caramel sauce, and quite profound.

I have so many copies of this recording; tonight I found the Concerto Italiano version “sloppy.” This is music that breathes. I had the opportunity years ago to perform parts of KdF and it was a very emotional experience. Listening to music is one thing; putting breath, tears, and effort into what it heard is something all the more powerful.

That’s why I likely poured all my frustrations growing up as a teenager into the piano. It was therapy.

Please view my 23 photos on Flickr and let me know what you think!

This was the first GUI computer I laid eyes on; it was very early 1984 before Macintosh was released in our computer store, Mace Electronics.

It’s glowing light; the separate hard disk drive. And the mouse. Ah…

We acquired it yesterday; it was a gift.

Only a portion of Walther’s collection appears on this disc. Plantier and associates sound all the same in verve, quality of recording, and able bodyness as they did with their Westhoff release. Plantier’s violin has a beautiful tone. Since I purchased this recording digitally, I am not sure what instrument he plays. It sounds in character close to Manfredo Kraemer’s Techler violin from 1704.

Walther’s music is searching, it seems, for voice, and alongside others in the “mid Baroque.” It’s that he doesn’t sound like other composers that you may know, that his ideas are refreshing. Both Walther and Westhoff were influenced by the Italian innovators, but they write music belongs to the so-called German violin school. Westhoff seems to have been the more gifted composer; but Walther’s music still has its moments.

With only one listen under my belt, I cannot say anything profound about this release. The playing is well-done, at times sensitive, other times, virtuosic. Walther’s music is full of ideas, some more satisfying than others. The music above all is lighter than that of Bach; less exotic than that of the Italians, and earthy, to a point of pleasure.

I had always hoped Reinhard Goebel would have produced a CD of Westhoff violin sonatas. His colleauge Manfredo Kraemer did some years later release a single sonata (for solo violin) on a poorly recorded CD with Capriccio Stravagante. Another MAK colleague, the talented David Plantier, has now released some Westhoff on the ZigZag Territories label with Les plaisirs du Parnasse.

This is my first chance at hearing Mr. Plantier as a soloist; his dynamic range and tonal sound is really quite nice. Think one part Goebel, one part Onofri, one part Kraemer, perhaps… of course, that’s an unfair comparison. He’s his own player, but rarely do we find a player with such a penetrating tone, playfulness, and directed intensity.

Westhoff published these works, evidently, in 1694, quite remarkable for their quality and complexity. Both with the technique and the harmonic language, Westhoff was a modernist. The recording here is live-sounding, well done, great depth captured between an up-front violin, and deep, plucked bass from among the continuo group.

The six works included in the collection are played out of order and vary somewhat in quality. The opening #4 is rich and virtuosic. #3 is nervous, changing speeds and moods on a dime. Carry a pocket full of change. What we’re left with is a multitude of sound worlds, presented lovingly one after another. Westhoff seemingly likes strong themes, and milks them, but where others might go and follow the full depths of one’s first theme, Westhoff changes course and presents a new idea. Perhaps these are the traits of the world’s finest composers, but it makes Westoff easy listening.

The intense sonata #2 is full of multiple-stopping, Plantier is quite able to shift between the break-neck speeds chosen for the Allegros, and the more contemplative (if not private) slower movements. Let’s be honest, these sonatas contain lots of opportunities for speed and double stopping. They can’t be easy to play. Both Plantier and his colleagues on basso continuo own these works.

This recording is rich with invention. Rich with tonal color, rich with virtuosic challenges met, and rich with passion. It’s the type of CD you don’t listen to from start to finish. Mix a sonata or two with other Westhoff contemporaries. Like fine chocolates, you may feel too guilty eating them at once.

Very highly recommended. Read what Johan van Veen said about this release.