Has American culture really moved past philistinism in the arts?

 That's the subthesis of "Picasso's War," reviewed below.

Picasso's War: How Modern Art Came to America by Hugh Eakin
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Simply fascinating book. The title is a pun, covering both the "war" to get Picasso accepted by philistine Americans, even in NYC, and even on the board of MOMA to put up a Picasso-focused exhibition and buy his paintings, and the Spanish Civil War, which led Picasso to Guernica, which broke the ice.

The first half of the book is also a mini-bio of John Quinn, a man of whom I'd never heard before, and arguably the United States' top pre-1920 acquirer of Picasso, along with many other A-rank modern artists such as Matisse. But, I had heard of the Armory show, of which he was an organizer

There was no MOMA at this time. Quinn pushed for one, using the analogy in Paris of the Luxembourg to the Louvre as a push. Unfortunately, he died of colon cancer in his 50s, in the early 1920s. From there, the book picks up with the eventual creation of MOMA.

Among the ironies is that, 20 years before it was built, Americans were calling Picasso et al, but especially him, "degenerate art," as in exactly the phrase the Nazis used. (Stalin didn't use such a phrase in calling for "Soviet realism," but the idea was there, too. Pre-authoritarianism, Kaiserine and Weimar Germany, and Tsarist Russia, were actually the top two countries in the world, overall, to appreciate modern art pre-WWI, even more than France.)

That's plenty to whet the appetites of any general modern culture lover let alone art history person.

And, illustrated with many plates.

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In reality, color me skeptical, and I'll speak of classical music as well as the main plastic arts. 

I've lived within 125 miles or so of the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex 3/4 of the past 25 years and within 90 miles or so 2/3 of that time. 

I'm a regular visitor to the Kimbell, Amon Carter and Dallas Museum of Art. I went once or twice to the McKinney Avenue Modern in Dallas. I've peeked through the glass windows at the Fort Worth Modern and the Nasher Sculpture Center.

On music, I am a former Dallas Symphony Orchestra season-ticket holder. I have been to various chamber performances on both sides of the Metromess.

In the art world, there may be truly exciting things deeper inside the glass windows at the Nasher and Fort Worth Modern. The DMA has interesting mobiles-like art at times, as well as multimedia stuff.

But, while the Kimbell has shown stuff like Rauschenbergs out of its collection, and had the great late-life Monet a few years ago, I've never seen something like a touring Cubism exhibit. The DMA did have a small exhibit of Dali's illustrations of a large-scale "Alice in Wonderland" beyond its house collection in Surrealism several years ago, but that was it. Among living or recently-deceased artists? I've never seen anything close to Serrano's "Piss Christ."

The DSO? Don't get me started. It's NEVER played a serialist work, whether by the New Vienna Trio, a later semi-serialist like Ernst Krenek, or late-life serialist Stravinsky. It's never played any of the more avant-garde modernist composers, not even biggies like Penderecki or Schnittke.

I got classical radio station WRR to play one of Alf's shorter pieces on its then-programmed Sunday listener requests time 15-plus years ago. And, have heard him played "voluntarily" once since then. Never heard, say, Penderecki's "Threnody for the Victims of Hiroshima" played on Aug. 6.

So, no, contra Eakin's implication, it's still wall-to-wall Philistines in at least this portion of the heartland.

Fabio Luisi at the DSO? I think I'll pass

Dallas Morning News classical music critic Scott Cantrell recently offered praise for the Dallas Symphony Orchestra's new music director, Fabio Luisi, who will officially start this fall after a two-year hiatus to replace Jaap van Zweden.

Among the praise was, even with him not having a full hand in the 2020-21 season, booking more 20th century music than van Zweden or Andrew Litton before him.

But, of the pieces Cantrell listed, none are from the warhorses of 20th century atonality.

No serialist Schoenberg, or disciples Berg or Webern.

No late-life serialist Stravinsky.

No second-gen serialism pioneer Ernst Krenek, either from his serialism or his non-serial atonality.

No atonal (or tonal) Penderecki. No Ligeti. No Schnittke.

Lemme know when something from THAT, or similar, is on the playlist.

That said, speaking of warhorses?

I found part of Luisi's premier concert with the DSO on YouTube, which sadly had commenting turned off.

It's Beethoven's Seventh. To me, one of the acid tests is if you play the Allegretto second movement as marked, with the metronome at 76 or thereabouts, you have failed. You're not "HIP," if you're not conducting a period instruments orchestra.

And, while Luisi does get some nice texture out of the movement, it's too slow. Clocking at almost 45 minutes, the whole symphony is too slow. But the second movement, at more than 10 minutes, is WAY too slow. Listen, starting at 13:22 for the second movement.



No, DSO concertgoers, that did not deserve applause at the end of the second movement. Third movement is by the modern book, so good there. In fact, if anything ... it's almost rushed, and has a feeling of that after the slow second movement. Fourth movement, again, crisp, and again, even to the fast end. But ... that second movement ... no. And again, it's not just that it's slow; it stands out like a sore thumb against the third and fourth movements.

Listening to that again, in 2024, there's one other problem. The "attacca" between first and second movements, with no pause. You'll note there is a normal pause after the second movement, even before the unwarranted inter-movement applause. Listen further. The third movement in general is too slow. But, within that, the last major tempo change in the recapitulation area is too fast, and with the earlier portion of the movement too slow, it sounds rushed.

Speaking of, especially with all that behind him, the fourth movement's opening sounds rushed. In fact it IS rushed even if we ignored the slowness of the previous. It's barely 8 minutes. And that only emphasizes how the second and third sound too slow. And are too slow.

Compare all of that to the master in the period instruments (when appropriate) groups, John Eliot Gardiner and the Orchestre Revolutionnaire et Romantique.



Hear the difference? Compare and contrast the finales, too. Gardiner actually starts slower, but that gives him more room to play.

Or David Zinman with the Tonhalle, whose Beethoven cycle I bought immediately after hearing him with the new urtext on Eroica. YouTube has his 7th separate by movement.



Again, hear the difference?

Or, one more. Kleiber, among the old masters. 12:15 8:04 for the second movement. (The scratched-out was the first movement clocking.) And he takes the whole schmeer even faster than Gardiner or Zinman.



Much above 80 can be rushed.

But anything below 68 can seem slow, and anything below about 64, especially with poor nuancing, can seem draggy. An even 8 minutes, as the three gents above indicate, is about right. Not a full 10 minutes. (Cantrell DID ding him for this.)

And, contra unnamed critics cited by D Magazine, Luisi's predecessor van Zweden didn't lash this piece, at least, too fast. YouTube shows him also at 38 and change. It also shows him with a 14-minute first movement and a second movement that's not exactly fast.

OK, more questionable Beethoven.

A nearly-55 minute Eroica?



Too slow all around. The biggest offender seems to be a 15-minute finale; second biggest is Funeral March nearly 16 minutes long.

Zinman comes in at an even 46 overall. The opening is about 2 minutes quicker. The funeral march about 2:40 quicker. The finale is almost 4 minutes shorter. Listen:



Zinman isn't alone. Erich Kleiber has the finale at 11 minutes in a 45 minute recording. Ditto Gardiner. Again, listen:



If Luisi either can't "get" Beethoven, or, on a piece like Eroica, thinks that sounding like Daniel Barenboim is good (it ain't), then no, this is not a fantastic hire.

Next, a warhorse from just about exactly a century later.

I found Luisi doing the finale of the Mahler Sixth with the Suisse Romande. Before even clicking, I noted a above-35 play time. Antennae up. Listen:



Not totally draggy, and he does get some nice nuances out of texture. But, when not totally draggy, even for Mahler, there seems to be too much rubato in tempo changes. Portions seemed rushed. And, per the Beethoven Seventh above, he likes to play with tempos a lot, as far as pushing composers' plans to the extreme both fast and slow.

A decade-plus older Italian contemporary of Luisi then came to mind — Guiseppe Sinopoli. I bought his M6 in the early 1990s, shortly after he'd started moving beyond opera, and started getting raves for his psychological interpretations. The opener of the M6 (where I'm a tough critic, and was halfway so even then) wasn't bad. Each subsequent movement got worse, and he pushed 35 with the finale. But even he didn't have that much rubato, IIRC.

Listen to somebody hugely uptempo with the M6, Kondrashin:



Big difference.

Or, someone somewhat more conventional, and with a lighter touch, but not delayed, Ivan Fischer, who comes in at just over 28 minutes:



Again, a difference that you would notice, even without Kondrashin as a peg.

Cantrell may have gotten it right before Luisi was named. "YouTube performances suggest consummate professionalism, but something less than a compelling musical personality."

And, speaking of M6? Cantrell (with whom I exchanged emails in the 2000-aughts when I was a DSO season ticket holder at Thursday night concerts, the nights he'd be attending for his preview write-ups) praises this by Jaap.



I'll pass on this, too. The second movement (not here, as this is first movement only, after the original YouTube video is gone due to being from a now-canned account) is lyrical and nuanced, but the first movement is by the book, and almost all conductors' books are wrong on this. This is part of why I so like Kondrashin; the opening BRISTLES with him.

Having never talking post-Litton Mahler with Scott, maybe we'd disagree on interpreting him in general? And, (April 5, 2024) going beyond earlier thoughts on this, while Cantrell was right that van Zweden brought the technique of DSO players, as individuals, as sections, and as a whole, to new levels, I don't think he brought as much new as an interpreter as Scott may have thought of him in van Zweden's first years in Dallas.

I do know that we agreed that the DSO, especially under Litton but also in my brief time there at the start of van Zweden's tenure, needed to broaden its rep in the 20th century. Per my suggested playlist, vs Cantrell's, I'm trying to figure out . He does like him some Walter Piston, who did at least some toe-dipping into serialism, and Elliott Carter, though.

Frankly, though he's older than Luisi, I wish they'd made a run at Salonen. But I forgot myself and forgot that this is Dallas.

And, 18 months later, having heard (via online clips) Luisi actually play with Dallas, my impression went further downhill.

Update, April 4, 2024: Yet more reason to take a pass on Luisi? Per this great New Yorker piece about a sad recent trend in the classical world, he's spread too thin:

Fabio Luisi is spread across three continents, maintaining roles at the Dallas Symphony, the Danish National Symphony, and the NHK Symphony, in Japan.

Per the piece, it's not quite as bad as its focal point, Klaus Mäkelä, who not only currently runs the Concertgebouw but is tapped to help Chicago in 2027 — while (at least until he says he's leaving) staying in Amsterdam as well. And, while neither Dallas nor the NHK (dunno about the Danish National) are top-tier, they're both solidly enough in the second tier that they shouldn't be sharing a music director. A Luisi could do one or the other of the two, plus the Danish. And, even be principal guest conductor at a third, smaller orchestra if the ego or tightening corporate symphonic sponsorships demanded. But, that's it.

That said, there's more.

That is snarkily topped by this:

American orchestra subscribers have become resigned to a phony civic ritual: a foreign-accented maestro flies in a few times a season for two or three weeks, stays in a hotel or a furnished apartment, attends a flurry of donor dinners, and dons the appropriate cap when the local baseball team makes the playoffs.

Oof. When Jaap van Zweden was in Dallas, he seemed reasonably involved. But, it was the only orchestra where he was the music director. Speaking of, the piece notes that he and the NY Phil have parted ways. For the Seoul Philharmonic and the French Radio Philharmonic, to style it in English? Wow, what a tumble.

Wiki's page on Luisi adds this, which fits perfectly with the New Yorker snark:

Outside of music, his hobbies include the production of his line of perfumes.

Oy.

Bottom line? It's like the reading of books. Ars longa, vita brevior. I have only so much time to read, or to listen.

Thoughts on the Rite of Spring centennial

Yes, this is the centennial of the piece that arguably, more than any other of the past 150 years, changed modern Western art music.

With this year being the 100th anniversary of the Rite of Spring, here's a great article, one scandalous when it appeared, by Stravinsky's eminence grise, Robert Craft, about what all went into its formation, including Stravinsky's connections with Diaghilev, Ravel, and others.

And go here for a YouTube search of works by the Lithuanian composer Mikalojus Ciurlionis, mentioned in the piece.

Craft also gives a good analysis of the creation of this masterwork itself.

Stravinsky vs. Prokofiev on neoclassicism

Igor Stravinsky/Wikipedia

Igor Stravinsky more than once said he did not want the label of “Neoclassical” applied to his music.

In part, I suspect it was some professional jealousy and rivalry with Sergei Prokofiev, who first got the label from his 1916 “Classical Symphony.” In a post about Albert Camus and how he disliked the label “existentialist” for his works, I similarly said it was probably in part due to professional rivalry with Jean-Paul Sartre.

But I also said it was because he wasn’t so much an existentialist.

Ditto with Stravinsky.

His early works, like “Firebird” and “Rite of Spring,” we’d call Late Romantic, or Expressionist, or similar, right?

But, what about, say “A Soldier’s Story”? Couldn’t we call it Neoclassical?

We could, but even if the label fully fit, Stravinsky was moving further back in time, at times.

“Symphony in C” and “Symphony in Three Movements” both seem to combine Expressionistic elements with Neoclassical ones. But if you look at something like “Symphony of Psalms,” you realize we’re in different territory.

With a nod of the head to Paul Hindemith, I’ve called that territory Neobaroque. Given that Stravinsky would go on to do things like setting Shakespearean sonnets to music, one could even argue for the descriptor of Neorenaissance.

Of course, Stravinksy, over a long and productive career, changed his stripes more than once, and so is harder to label artistically than is Camus.

But, if we are to put a label on him, either Neobaroque or Neorenaissance is much more accurate for the Stravinsky of post-World War I days than is Neoclassical.

I actually favor the Neorenaissance labeling, myself. It’s not such much based on his later musical structures as it is on his instrumentation. On one listening to “Symphony of Psalms,” the fact that he uses no violins sunk in, and I thought back to the viol-family dominance before the later Baroque. His strong use of woodwinds, including modern ones like sarussophone in “Threni,” underscore this. (In case you’re wondering, a sarussophone is somewhat like if a saxophone and a bassoon had sex and produced a child.)

Interestingly, I did not know that Ernst Krenek also did a setting of Lamentations.

Irony alert – New York Philharmonic

The NYPhil is tonight, on its national concert broadcast series, playing Bach’s “St. Matthew Passion,” as conducted a few years ago by Kurt Mazur.

But… Easter was last week. And… Passover hasn’t yet happened.

Will we get Stravinsky’s “Abraham and Isaac” next week? The NYPhil may not even have played that in the past 20 years for all I know.