Luciano Berio . . . and Beethoven . . . and old people, I guess

This past Sunday Tamara and I went to St. Louis to see the city's Symphony Orchestra perform. This is the second time I've taken in a show; the first time seeing Reich and Haydn performed.

The program began with Beethoven's Grosse Fugue and ended with his 5th Symphony. I had never heard this fugue until that day, purposely saving my first interaction with it for a live performance. The performance, however, was by a string orchestra, as opposed to a string quartet, which the piece is originally composed for. The program notes made sure to note that the piece, once the last movement of a String Quartet, was not widely accepted at first. Many critics wanted the movement to be revised, often calling it incomprehensible. At times, there did seem to be a lot going on, but it was never really harsh or cluttered.

It's really an amazing experience seeing these things performed live. You get the opportunity to discern so much in the music as opposed to hearing the sounds as one coming from a CD. We were in the second row on the right, directly in front of the cellos and double basses. During Beethoven's 5th, we could distinctly hear what would otherwise be subtle, namely, the 4-note motif being played softly and briskly by the double basses underlying themes being carried out more pronounced in the violins and violas. Also, in the fugue, as the theme is being played in one section, then carried on to the next, you not only can distinctly pick out the sounds of the various string instruments, you receive the sounds from their respective locations, thus experiencing a surround sound type of feeling.

Both of the Beethoven pieces were performed to a tee. Seeing a renowned orchestra perform classics is always worth the money. The time, dedication, and talent of the performers comes through in each measure of music.

But Sunday will always stick out in my mind as the day I first heard a piece by Luciano Berio. His piece Sinfonia is performed by an orchestra and 8 soloists. However, the soloist do not take on a conventional role, i.e., they do not stand in front of the orchestra, singing as the orchestra accompanies them. Instead, Berio has placed them within the orchestra, sitting in the viola section. They use microphones as well, so their voices are amplified. And, they do not sing anything, but rather, "recite" texts from an anthropological work by Levis-Strauss and some fiction by Samuel Beckett. Other times, the vocalists are inaudible, speak in French, or chant syllables or other incomprehensible sounds. The third movement was written in memory of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. The vocalists come in and out with the phrase "O' King." For example, they would drag out the "O," starting softly and increasing in intensity and dynamics, like "oooooooooOOOOOOO," then abruptly and sharply scream, "KING!"

The conductor had a few words to say about the piece, having conducting it while the composer was still alive. He warned us that the piece was very hard to listen to at times. It was chaotic and obnoxious, but reflected a certain amount of passion and strife. He said that Berio brought a lot of ideas found in the horrid parts of life, as those we see in the news, to a musical form, and just as we want to look away from all the horrors of the world, the music sometimes makes us want to stop listening. The piece was extremely loud at times, and full of "BOOMS" of all sorts. I find a striking similarity between this piece and Stravinsky's Rite of Spring. One, as the other, could easily be dismissed as a load of garbage and display of tasteless noises. However, as I'm starting to see with the Rite of Spring, Berio's Sinfonia was by far one of the most BRILLIANT pieces of any art I ever experienced. Not for everyone, but a monumental work nonetheless.

And, yes, there's always the old people. At any given time, all I had to do was look to the side (not even completely behind me) and I could identify about 4 dying bodies passed out asleep. I mean, come on, we're talking 5 minutes into the program. What's the point? Just to meet your wrinkled buddies there?

And then, in the lobby, you have to endure all the gay superfluous talk of "committees" and "memberships."

"I want you to meet my husband; he, like myself, is also a member of the such and such sleeping committee. Honey, I want you to meet these two wonderful people. This is Rotting Away Kay, she's the Chair of the Vicks Vapor Rub Party."

Then she said this, "And this is, I'm sorry, what was your name again, I didn't mean to leave you out, you're significant too."

Because, as we all know, that fine group was just full of significant people only.

And what's with these people who get dragged to these events. Before the show starts, they're sitting there with a blank face, and as soon as the music starts, they open up their program to read. Then when the music is over, they don't even have the courtesy to clap. Why go? Why not honestly tell the person who dragged you that you're simply not going to enjoy yourself.

The atmosphere at these events is such a joke. There's always some bozo reading his program, some other nice man coughing every ten seconds, some dying woman snoring, or something else that distracts from the music. I won't deprive myself, however, from the experience because of these few souls who inevitably catch your attention. I will just bide my time and get my revenge when I become one of them later on in life.