I DEMAND TICKETS TO EVERYTHING.
If you’d like your concert included in next week’s roundup, leave a comment or drop me a line.
If you’d like your concert included in next week’s roundup, leave a comment or drop me a line.
Happy Halloween! You know what’s really scary? Not having your concert attendance for the week all planned out. Here ya go:
If you’d like your concert included in next week’s roundup, leave a comment or drop me a line.
Hey, remember a month or two ago how I picked out some Baltimore Symphony Orchestra concerts that tickled my particular fancy? Let’s do the same thing for Strathmore, which offers such a dizzying array of concerts over the course of the season that I’m sure attempting to process it all can be daunting. Never fear – I’ve picked out all the classical concerts that have so far been announced, so you’ll know what not to miss in advance. You’re quite welcome.
So there you have it – all the straight-up classical music programs in the Strathmore season. SO FAR. Don’t worry; I’ll keep you apprised of these and other concerts as the year goes by. Good heavens, is it almost autumn already?
Well, no. They haven’t. There’s plenty more abuse in their future, never fear. But as we slog our way through that early summer wasteland of concertlessness (turns out the cruelest month is June), allow me to inject a little levity into your life. I’ve been meaning to tell this joke forever, but the viola joke has always taken priority. Not today!
Chopin and Dvorak decided that what their music really needed was some inspiration from nature, so they packed their gear and went on a camping trip. When they still hadn’t returned two weeks later it was determined that a search party should be sent to make sure they were okay. Well, when the seekers located the composers’ camp, they found an absolute mess. Ink and paper were positively everywhere, and in the midst of it all, a pervasive, sticky expanse of honey.
As the search party stared at this in some confusion, they suddenly heard the crackling of forest footsteps behind them, followed by a great roar. Two enormous bears came lumbering out of the gloom, the fangs gleaming with slavering malice. The lead searcher, thinking quickly, lifted his gun and shot the bears in the head, one-two, in an impressive show of marksmanship.
Already knowing in their hearts how Chopin and Dvorak had met their ends, the search party glumly examined the bears, discovering them to be a male and female. They sliced open the she-bear and, sure enough, the Polish composer’s partially-digested body came sliding out. It was then they concluded that the Czech was in the male.
Please note: I do not condone the shooting of bears. If confronted with a bear, I recommend you hold very still and accept your fate as necessary. If it seems your death is inevitable, you may as well get a hug in there. I know I’ve always wanted to.
Oh, guys. It’s been such a fun journey. Thirty-two composers (edited to add: +2 play-ins) stepped into the ring, and over the year we have slowly whittled it down to two. Before we crown our winner, let’s take a look back over composers past, shall we?
* denotes the winner of the match
ROUND ONE
ROUND TWO
ROUND THREE
ROUND FOUR
ROUND FIVE (PLAY-IN ROUND)
ROUND SIX
And so we arrive here, at the end. I think we all know whose t-shirt I was wearing, but it wasn’t a question of my sartorial decisions; it all came down to the best man taking the Composer Cagematch! crown. Are you ready? And the winner is…
I took in a drama course my senior year of high school and wrote a brief play based on T. S. Eliot’s poem “Portrait of a Lady,” a poem in which Chopin figures prominently. The girl I cast as the titular lady said “Chop-in,” and was surprised when I corrected her. (This paragraph is meant to illustrate how I can be a pretentious twit sometimes. Discuss!)
Currently, the middle school girls at my ballet studio are dancing to a piece by Chopin, and they wrote character sketches to fuel the expression of their steps. The spellings have been creative — Chopan, Shopin, and my personal favorite:
Ouch.
AHA! Finally I get a win!
In the last match of the second round, you chose Gershwin over Chopin to advance. Handshakes all ’round, guys. Good show.
And that brings us to round three, everybody — we’re less than ten matches away from crowning a winner. But before we can get started, I’d like to tell you a story.
A few weeks ago I stayed for a bit after ballet class to practice a dance we’re learning set to Bartok’s Music for Strings, Percussion, and Celesta; absolutely amazing, amazing stuff.* After I had run through it a few times, a lady from class came up to me and said, “So does this music just drive you crazy?”
“Huh?”
“This music. It’s so… out there. Like Stravinsky just drives me nuts.”
I made some gentle protest in a nod-and-smile, nod-and-smile sort of way because anyone who doesn’t like Bartok OR Stravinsky should be happy to see those nice young men in their clean white coats, but whatevs. The point is… well, the point is that… the point is…
…that in this corner, he La Mer-dered Debussy! (All right, hot shot, YOU think of one.) It’s
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGOOOOOOOOOOOR STRAAAAAAAAAAVIIIIIIIIIIINSKYYYYYYYYY
And in this corner, he wrote Schoenberg a whole new set of compositional rules! It’s
BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELAAAAAAAAAAA BARRRRRRRRRRRRRTOOOOOOOOOOOK
So tell me… how would you like to be driven mad?
*In the interest of fairness I should note that Stravinsky also wrote amazing, amazing stuff. Petrouchka, for example.
In the immortal words of The Sandlot: You’re KILLING me, Smalls.
I threw Verdi into the ring with a wince, guilt-ridden over the fact that I had no one stronger to defend against the mighty Handel. And what does Giuseppe do? Grinds Georg into a pulp and bakes him into a pie like some kinda classical Titus Andronicus. A late pro-Handel rush narrowed the gap, so that takes away a bit of the sting, but still. Verdi wins. Drat. (Also, I would totally order Handel pie, if only for the pun.)
Let’s move on quickly, because there’s only one match left in round 2. They are an odd match, and I am determined to arrange the battle with no preconceived notions.
And so in this corner, who could ask for anything more? Well, Berstein could. It’s
GEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEORGE GEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERSHWIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN
And in this corner, he’s got a little Liszt! It’s
FREEEEEEEEEDEEEEERIIIIIIIIIC CHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOPIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN
I don’t know, guys. They’re the only two left. One of them is bound to show up on your iPod more often than the other, and get skipped less. Who is it?