I bet that not a single gay marriage opponent would have cried if equal marriage had triumphed in the New York Senate last week.

They would have been angry, sure. They would have moaned about the "demise" of the traditional family.

Perhaps they would have even been afraid.

But sad to the point of tears? No.

That's because marriage equality is not personal for them. Not in the way it's personal for us. (Source)

Our back yard this morning...

The Hartford Symphony Orchestra is not the New York Philharmonic Orchestra. But at the concert last night, more times than not, I could close my eyes, and not hear a difference. It was simply outstanding.

I'm not saying the concert did not have flaws. There were some, particularly in the Tchaikovsky Fifth Symphony. The program...

• Bedřich Smetana - "Vltrave" ("The Moldau") from Má vlast ("My Fatherland")
• Jean Sibelius - Violin Concerto in D minor, Op. 47
• Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky - Symphony No. 5 in E minor, Op. 64

Bedřich Smetana - "Vltrave" ("The Moldau") from Má vlast ("My Fatherland")
This work has always been one of my favorites. The technical problem with this work is that it is more often than not, taken for granted. And, it's performed as such. People think it is a beautiful peace, but there is much darkness and turbulence in this work. And most orchestras gloss over this like it means nothing. Last night, I could hear all of this darkness in stunning clarity with these dark passages rippling through the orchestra without hiding their face to us. This is thanks in no small part to the conductor (I'll get to him in a minute) who paid particular attention to these important elements. And when the light of the sun triumphed over this darkness, it was simply breathtaking. Everything is a comparison to the other and when the sun came out, the excitement that this orchestra gave with this conductor at the helm sent shivers up my spine. The work has a lot of nationalism in it, or pride of country. And I found myself feeling that.

Jean Sibelius - Violin Concerto in D minor, Op. 47
This was an odd experience for me. Right after the Smetana, room was made for Leonid Sigal, the orchestras concertmaster, to perform the Sibelius Violin Concerto. But then they brought out a stool where he would play. They then secured the stool with weights on the feet of the stool. I was thinking, "How strange. He isn't seriously going to sit down and play this work." We all got quiet, and when he came out, he was holding his violin and bow in one hand, and limping out with a cane in the other hand. The stool it seems was to give him something to lean on. There was an injury to his leg and after he secured the cane to the back of the stool, he took his bow. You could see on his face that he was clearly in pain. I thought to myself, "This isn't a good sign. He shouldn't be up there."

Let me make one analogy of the Sibelius Violin Concerto, and something that Beverly Sills said once about "mad scenes" in opera. She was asked about mad scenes. She mentioned scenes in early opera that had some mad scenes, mad scenes in verismo opera where the lead character will go mad, and then she said, "... and then, there's Lucia", referring Lucia di Lammermoor, by Gaetano Donizetti. She put Lucia in it's own category because as she put it, Lucia didn't go mad, she was mad, and had this profound condition from start to end.

I mention this because this is exactly how I feel about the Sibelius Violin Concerto. In the violin literature, there are many violin concertos from the Classical era (1750 to 1820)* that offer their fair share of difficult passages. And then there are the concertos from the Romantic era (1820 to 1920)* that concentrate more on the virtuosity of the violinist. And then, there's the Sibelius, this concerto that towers over the others. It's not the virtuosity of the piece, it's simply to be avoided. In opera, you make a choice. The singer can be extremely virtuostic in terms of sheer notes in a given passage (for example coloratura, which emphasizes lightness, dexterity, and the higher range), or, darker heavier roles, such as Puccini, Verdi, or Strauss. In these works, the sacrifice of the fast moving passages for the singer, are gone. The reason, weight. The weight of the work, both emotionally and on the voice itself, sacrifices dexterity. So too is it with the Sibelius... kind of. The problem is, Sibelius doesn't sacrafice either. It's all there, passages that are just beyond human endurance, and emotional weight in the form of anguished dark moods. You will find hints of sunshine in this work, but it never wins.

In other words, it takes a toll on the violinist both technically and emotionally. Jascha Heifetz approached this work with the technical skill of a surgeon. Technically placed perfectly, yet leaving me unmoved. So last night, I was wondering how Hartford's Leonid Sigal was going to perform this work with his injury. It wasn't long into the work that I realized that he was using the pain to his advantage. The virtuosity was there, and the suffering on his face, from either the music or the pain, was genuine, and they worked with each other. It was an amazing experience to see. He didn't muddle his way through the work, he conquered it. And it was followed by a thunderous standing ovation. This was "our Lenny" after all, and I'm proud that he is with us in Hartford.

Pyotr Ilyish Tchaikovsky - Symphony No. 5 in E minor, Op. 64
This work is close to my heart. When I was a young lad way back in 1973, I had the wonderful opportunity to tour Europe after I was accepted into America's Youth In Concert. This symphony was one of the works we performed. It was the last work we performed in New York City together, before I said goodbye to so many wonderful friends that I made on the tour. So for years, I went without listening to this work. But now, I'm ok with it. It was performed well, with a few exceptions. I noticed this in the third movement mostly with the very fast spiccato in the strings. They weren't quite together. They had the work under their fingers, so I believe this was a fault of the conductor through these passages. And it was only a couple of passages that I noticed this.

The second movement with the towering horn solo was magnificent. In fact, through this symphony, I must say that what really came through was the the great wind and brass sections of this orchestra. Honestly, they sounded like the renowned brass section from the Chicago Symphony. I put this squarely on the shoulders of the guest conductor last night. Far too often do conductors with string backgrounds (the guest conductor is a violinist) diminish the brass players as though they are second class to strings. You do this at your peril in music. It's a strict partnership and yet, you'd be surprised at how many conductors out there just don't get that. Concerning the second movement, the only criticism I have is that it was a bit too dry, or metronomic, for me. There are times in this movement that you break tempo and let the moment play out. I felt that a few opportunities were missed by "moving on" too quickly, when we should have stayed and savored the moment a bit more.

All in all, I was satisfied with this performance. It wasn't perfect. There were some flaws, but I felt the conductor added much welcomed interest in exposing inner passages here and there that are often just glossed over in recordings. He's on the right path. Those aren't just notes. They are COLOR!

About the conductor, Andrew Grams
The Hartford Symphony is searching for a new conductor. As such, different concerts feature different conductors. So far, Mr. Grams is my first choice. He brings to the podium a youthful energy, respect and appreciation for all sections of the orchestra as equals in a partnership, and his technique is precise and well executed.

I was able to attend his pre-concert talk at 7:00. Most conductors want to talk about the music that will be performed, and how it effects them. Not Mr. Grams. He was more interested about us, the audience, the community, and where we would like to see the Hartford Symphony go in this time of it's life. He made it clear that if he was selected, he would be much more interested on our feedback and what we wanted from the symphony. With that, he said, without that you will never be truly part of the life of this symphony. Brutally honest, and, he's right!

As for the music, he talked very briefly about it but then said (and I'm paraphrasing), "These are well known works. I have my feelings about them, but that's not important, and I'm sure most of you have lived with them through your lives. Each of us must listen to them and hear them in our own ways. And hopefully, I can bring something new to this experience for you." He then opened it up for questions from us. This never happened before. One question that caught my attention was this, "By doing works that are so well known to all of us, aren't you playing it safe by choosing those?" He answered that he didn't get to pick the program with the exception of the Smetana. The program was planned by the Board of Directors with the Sibelius and the Tchaikovsky. He pointed out that guest conductors rarely get to pick the compositions performed for any given orchestra. But they asked him to pick a piece that "wasn't too long." Perhaps this was a test from them to see what he would marry these two works with. He finally also mentioned regarding the question of "playing it safe", that by performing well known works, he confronts people who know these works, and that can be a double edged sword. Very true.

I'm glad I made this effort to drive to Hartford through a snow storm. I got there a bit cold and weary as it was snowing out, bought a glass of wine, took it to my seat with me (yes, they let us do that), and listened to Smetana's The Moldau in a live performance, as I sipped a nice Merlot.

* Note that these date ranges are approximate. You will find that among different sources, they will vary somewhat.

I've come to the conclusion that life has changed for me.

I don't want to say that it's changed in a bad way, because that's making a judgment that I'm not sure is accurate. Kent went on another trip to Washington, D.C. on Wednesday. Thursday morning I woke up feeling like I'd been hit by a truck. I just hurt all over. So I stayed home and worked from home. I had a productive day, but it was quite easy to convince myself to stay home to work, when the fact is, I just didn't feel up to the full day. This is how I've changed, and I have to make peace with that.

I wanted to be in a place where I could work hard, but when I needed to, I could take that fifteen minutes to lie down on the bed to rest. I worked more, and took my walk in the afternoon as my exercise.

Other changes... I'm giving up more at work. I'm talking about sheer power and authority. In management, when you start delegating that, you are delegating the foundation of yourself - your place in the organization - your reason for being there. It hasn't been an easy decision for me to make and I'm not one to trust others easily, but the company I work for has been good to me. I want to return that to them. If I'm in jeopardy in any way, I can't leave them in the lurch because of me. That's just cold reality. I don't have the luxury of not dealing with that, given where I'm at.

Things are simpler now. I work just by myself at work, and every other thing is outsourced. I never discuss work stuff on this blog. There's a level of confidentiality that I will never break. I just mention it to say that work is really strange for me right now. I'm in this big room working by myself that used to be filled with people that I would share ideas with. Now, it's quiet. It's just me, and the occasional visitor.

Another issue that's happened is my graduation from the cardiac rehab. program at the hospital. Wednesday was my last day with them and they had a full graduation for me - cap and gown and all. I guess that sounds corny, but these people were my friends. It was sad because I know I will never see them again. Life will go on.

All of these changes lead me to believe that I'm not me anymore. I've changed. I'm just different now. I've noticed my interests have changed as well. It's harder to write on this blog. It's more difficult to stay in touch with people, except for the very trite exchanges I have with people on Facebook and the like. I hate simplicity. I'm more one to listen to a fugue of Bach and be in awe of the sheer simplicity of it all, and yet, no other being thought to write that fugue in such a perfect form. Or to listen to Mahler and be in wonderment that he could actually place these extremely complex emotions to a composition of music. It just boggles my mind.

In this stage of my life, I'm far less interested in outwardly written material such as this blog, and am more interested in inward desires; my family, my home, analysis of music which has always been a first love of mine. I do care about other things, but I can't control what people think on political issues such as civil rights for us. I'm spent. I have no more to give on this.

I never in my life thought I would say this, but this is the part of my life that I have to think of me. Just me.

The rest will just have to work itself out.