Rachmaninov

I have decided that of all the overblown and bombastic Romantic music out there, Rachmaninov has to be at the very bottom of the pit. What really threw me over the line on him was listening to some piece he did on a piece by Paganini (or a theme of Paganini's, either way, it was an awful experience that did not compel me to go look up the piece).

Rachmaninov is the perfect embodiment of all that is wrong with classical music today. His music is written for the mechanic: the pimply, black-clad long-hair who is overly smitten with his own pianistic prowess. Like early Franz Liszt, there is something there, but the effort to get to it is not worth it (the late Franz Liszt, on the other hand, is something else). When I hear Rachmaninov, all signs point to the empty bombast of the Van Cliburn generation. Technically perfect recordings that simply do not breathe, and if they did, would be breathing nothing but hot air anyway.

Speaking of crap that does not seem to need to exist: the Real Gilligan's Island?!? A reality show based on a sitcom that completely exhausted its own creative potential? Anyway, I will not allow this blog to devolve into television commentary, lest I start frothing at the mouth about how bad (and I mean that in a moral as well as dramatic sense) Friends was.

Anyway, with recordings of Rachmaninov being touted as important music, is it any wonder that classical music is in a slump? When Rostropovich's silly renditions of the Bach Cello Suites are played over and over on classical radio?

Sorry, but Bolero is more worthy than this stuff. At least Ravel created a fine essay on orchestration (of course you only need to listen to it a couple of times to get everything out of it that you can) with it.

On a happier note, I pulled out a Gustav Leonhardt recording of French baroque music and found just what the doctor ordered. I have a soft spot for the French baroque, since they got it so right (Couperin Uber Alles!), and Leonhardt understands this repertoire (he's not so shabby with Bach, either).

Tonight, after I post this, I will be delving back into the world of Christmas music (reading scores, not listening to recordings), which has been interesting. I normally limit my Christmas music exposure by avoiding it almost entirely during Advent, but my lecture on Tuesday leaves me no choice but to wade chest deep in the stuff.

So, with that, let me recommend the Anonymous 4's On Yoolis Night (Harmonia Mundi). Their sound is almost too much to take at times, but it is powerful stuff. To balance out your ears, you might need a dose of Russian men's choir music, just to restore the bass recognition center in your brain, but other than that, the Anonymous 4 really have something good going on.

Chirstmas Music (FREE! Lecture)

I don't remember exactly how it goes. Something about getting out of the oven and into the fireplace?

So, not complaining, but it seems that I get one major project done and have to jump to another one pronto.

Anyway, if you are in the Bay Area and would like to see and hear what has kept me away from blogging on a regular basis:

Tuesday, Dec. 7, 7pm at The National Shrine of St. Francis of Assisi in North Beach, San Francisco, Alta California, I will be giving a FREE! lecture on the Sounds of Christmas. Liturgical music will be outside of the bounds of my talk (keeping to folk material and perhaps a little bit of baroque, if I can't resist mixing Latin and German), but otherwise it will be excruciatingly traditional. No "Rudolph the Tippling Reindeer" here!

You know how you go into a play and there are a million warnings:

"During this production members of the cast will smoke cigarettes.

There will be a loud bang in Act III that might startle you..."

All of the things to make drama safe for those who should not venture outside their bubbles.

Anyway, the warning on my lecture will have to be:

"During this lecture, musical examples from Southern Italy will be played that might make you yearn for the soothing lyricism of Anton Webern."

Of course, these examples will feature an instrument that is traditionally associated with Christmas. It is one of my favorite instruments (hint: no, it's not the harpsichord, although that is also one of my favorite instruments). Can you guess which instrument this is?

One way or another, you ought to show up to learn a little more about the music of Christmas!

Oh yeah, did I mention that it is FREE!?

Portuguese Creole Yodling from Malacca

A few years back I was assigned a review of a gigantic box of CDs from Portugal's Tradisom label. The twelve discs, with fairly major booklets for each, each featured a different region from Portugal's once vast empire. The premise was to look for Portuguese influence in these various music cultures. Most of the discs were outstanding, some failed to do what they were supposed to do, but even then were interesting documents of little known music cultures.

You can read the full review here on the Rootsworld site.

Anyway, one of my favorite discs was number five: Kantiga Di Padri Sa Chang: Malaca, featuring some beautiful singing from Malacca. If you are like me, you had to look at a map of Southeast Asia to remember where exactly Malaca is. I found out that it was of vital importance in the days of seafaring. In fact, according to Tomé Pires back in 1512, "whoever is lord of Malacca has his hand on the throat of Venice." That was power indeed.

Anyway, for a period the Portuguese had control of this region, and their music left a lasting impression.

The song that really got me was the last track, called simply enough "O Amor." It starts as a wonderful tune that has a vaguely familiar style to it, although the language certainly throws off attempts at easy identification. But when the singer breaks into a full cowboy yodel, the whole thing suddenly comes into place. You see, the external influence on the music of the region did not stop with the Portuguese. Something in the American Country and Western tradition resonated with the people there, and they took the forms and styles and made them their own.

I know that Down Home Music in El Cerrito sells some of the individual discs from a viagem dos sons on the Tradisom label, and this disc is certainly worth it, for the good singing in general, but particularly for this great little cowboy yodel.

Something I might feel like writing on later is the connection between Portuguese music and Country music. Certainly the Portuguese had a lot to do with the sound of modern Hawaiian music, and we all know how that has influenced Country and Western (think of those weepy pedal steels). I also know that C and W is very popular among the Portuguese in California's Central Valley, and I think it has something to do with the fatalism, the brooding lyricism and the emphasis on string instruments.

Anyway, go check out this fantastic disc for one of the most unusual settings of cowboy yodeling. Next time I will talk about some Alpine Cowboy Yodling, sung in phonetic Englisch.

Avant Garde Jazz Yodling

So, from Tarzan to Hawaii we find yodling. There are various African styles of singing that involve alternation between chest and head voice, but I do not have any in my library (my collection is at its thinnest in Africa), so I can't give you any great examples right now.

However, there was an interesting jazz singer named Leon Thomas whose greatest claim to fame was being Pharoah Sanders' vocalist during Pharoah's mystical post-Coltrane period. Now, this was the 1960's, and these guys were in Oakland, so they probably made a lot of claims to this or that element of their music being directly from the heart of Africa. Those claims may fall anywhere from true to somewhat true, to completely pulled out of a hat while high on marijuana.

One way or another, African origin, or simply carrying out the Western (gasp!) tradition of extending musical technique and exploration of ideas, Leon Thomas turns in some fantastic yodling with Sanders. My favorite recording of theirs is Karma, which is full of all of the mystical baloney of the day, from the cover photo to the lyrics and liner notes:

"There was a time, when peace was on the earth,
and joy and happiness did reign. Each man
knew his worth. In my heart how I yearn for
that spirit's return and I cry, as the time flies,
Oooomm. Oooomm."

Also, this music is not for everyone. It is beautiful, unaplogetic post-Coltrane free jazz.

However, if you are willing to take a chance on this sort of thing, Karma is a fantastic record (even Melanie, who is not nearly as big a fan of free jazz as she ought to be, I mean, as I am, loves this record). It has two tracks, the first, "The Creator Has a Master Plan", clocks in at a whopping 32:45 and features some of the best structured music of that period.

Anyway, the reason I bring it up here is that Leon Thomas does some fantastic yodling on it, and it is something that must be heard to be understood.

Speaking of Pharoah Sanders, for those of you with more bop-oriented tastes, should definitely check out his Welcome to Love, which is all traditional ballads. Gorgeous stuff. But still, sometime in your life, arrange to have a good sit down listen with Karma. Great stuff.

Yodeling

We are going to spend some time on Erik's Rants and Recipes talking about yodeling. Then, if I am in the mood, we will talk about bagpipes.

The main reason I want to spill pixels over these topics is that there are too many people who think that yodeling is divided into 2 categories: Alpine and Cowboy. Similarly there are people who think that the bagpipes are a uniquely British Isles sort of thing.

We are going to look at the world of yodeling, beyond the Alps and the American range.

However, we will not neglect these great traditions of yodeling.

Are you curious? Are you so curious that you must learn how to yodel?

Good. Go here for the online yodel course. If you finish (honor system), you can email him and get a certificate. It is a fun course and will get you up to some proficiency in the art.

Now. The reason that I wanted to post on this is that I have been listening to the immensely talented Raiatea Mokihana Maile Helm. We first heard her at a Hawaiian music festival last year, and were completely entranced by her voice. Honestly, if you want to know what the angels in Heaven sing in between motets by Orlando di Lasso, this is it. My parents were in Hawaii a few weeks ago and I asked them to look for a CD of hers if they happened to be around places that sold Hawaiian music. To my good fortune, they found a CD of hers, and if it were a vinyl record I would have probably worn it out by now.

Raiatea Helm is probably the best yodeler I have heard in a long time. She moves between head and chest voice with a lyricism that can't be beat. Polynesian languages are ideal for yodeling, as they are rather vowel heavy, and require that each letter be pronounced (I remember reading that I was going to be landing at the Faaa airport in Tahiti. I assumed that it stood for something: Federacion Aerospatiale, etc. No. They build the airport in Fa-a-a. Cool).

So, for tonight's yodeling recommendation, let me steer you to this young and talented Hawaiian singer.

Meanwhile, let me ask you a trivia question: Who is the most famous yodeler in the world? Think about it and then look in the Extended Entry section for the answer.

A hint: he was also a champion Olympic swimmer, but he is better known for his yodel than for his swimming.

Another hint: he was basically an Alpenjodler, although he did it in his own style.

If you thought of the yodel heard round the world and it was this one, pat yourself on the back. Yes, the famous Tarzan cry is a glorious, full-blown Alpenjodl (or Alpenjodel, but I believe that the Alpine folks spell it without the "e"). Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah!

Another one of those "are we talking about the same person" moments

Several years ago I saw Jonatha Brooke perform at a record convention. She was an up and coming young singer and her distributor had paid dearly to showcase its artists at the big awards banquet. I remember slipping off to drink gin with one of the Billboard critics (well, in case he reads this and protests, let the record state that said critic did not join me for gin, but only to talk about music). Neither of us were that impressed. She was good, but not great, and certainly had a long way to go.

So, imagine my surprise when I read this from Terry Teachout. My first thought was "Jonatha Brooke?!? Really?" Then my second thought was "hmmm. Perhaps it was one of the other singers that night that I am thinking about," followed by, "no, it was definitely Jonatha Brooke."

She did seem to have that diamond in the rough (very rough - so rough that were I the executive producer, I probably would have passed on her, figuring that the diamond would turn out to just be some shiny coal) character. Since I find that while I disagree with Teachout on many points of classical music, I tend to see eye to eye with him on jazz and popular music, I need to check out this record. It would be great to hear that she has evolved into a singer who made such an impression on Terry Teachout.

UPDATE: I followed the link on the link I gave and found this line:

"Don't bother if you don't care for female singer-songwriters of the Joni Mitchell/Aimee Mann/Allison Moorer/Ani DiFranco variety, but if you do, check her out."

Ah-hah! I think I see where we might part in our tastes. I run hot and cold with female singer-songwriters. I like Joni Mitchell, but the rest tend to bore me, with Ani DiFranco driving me up the walls, and not just for her college-counterkulchur-chic-cat-poo-in-knots hair, nor for her political tendencies, but for her songs and her voice. I do admire her business acumen, however. She is one sharp girl when it comes to taking charge of her own career (and I also admire her leveraging her considerable market clout in solidarity with other labels who share her distributor, but that is another story, and not one I want to get into here). But the Brooke thing might just be a lukewarmness on my part to wanting to hear women strum guitars while singing about their feelings (although I am even more annoyed by men who strum guitars while singing about their feelings - one street singer who has been driving me crazy in North Beach comes to mind (and he also has that college-counterkulchur-chic-cat-poo-in-knots hair)).

Bach and Musical Heresy

I am going to admit something that will undoubtedly unleash the wrath of my classical music fan readers.

I can't stand Mstislav Rostropovich's recordings of the Bach Cello Suites.

The first time I heard them I thought they were fine.

The second time I heard them, I found them irritating, full of 19th century bluff and bluster, demonstrating that Rostropovich had only a superficial understanding of Bach. I chalked it up to a partiuclarly foul mood and figured I should give him another chance.

Last week in Sacramento, KXPR played them. I listened carefully and realized that I was right. Rostropovich's approach is too bombastic, poorly ornamented, and is basically the cello equivalent to playing Bach on the piano with a minimum of ornament and an excess of post-Brahmsian angst. As a late 20th century interpretation of a 19th century conception of the baroque, fine, but I really can't see a need for that.

These pieces deserve a much lighter touch. The melodies should dance, with ample ornament to give sparkle and lustre to the whole thing. Has Rostropovich never been in a baroque church? The whole thing sounded like a Russian funeral dirge. Even his tempi seemed daft. I am beginning to think that Rostropovich has no ear for music, that he is simply a good technician who only has chops for bombast.

Bach deserves better than this. How these recordings became the new standard for these pieces is a sign of trouble in classical music audiences.