The pianist, 77, has let it be known that she is not available to play in the United States, following #MeToo accusations against her ex-husband Charles Dutoit.
Instead, Martha is expanding her performances south of the equator. Last night she played in Cordoba, Argentina, for the first time in 14 years, accompanied by her daughter Annie Dutoit as narrator.
Report here.
At 6:28 in the finale of Sibelius’s second symphony, the conductor got so carried away that his stick took flight and he was left waving both hands.
Not for long, however.
Watch.
A fascinating piece of London programming by the rising Juro:
Weds November 8
Czech music with the Borodin Quartet
Klein Partita for Strings
Schulhoff Concerto for String Quartet and Wind Orchestra*
Martinů Concerto for String Quartet and Orchestra*
Janáček Sinfonietta
Vladimir Jurowski conductor
Borodin Quartet*
London Philharmonic Orchestra
Joe Horowitz has filleted some wonderful quotes in his Wall Street Journal review of Conrad L Osborne’s magisterial new survey of the present state of opera in America.
We like this one, in particular:
The penultimate chapter of Opera as Opera is a 25-page set piece reviewing one of the Met’s most admired productions of recent seasons: Borodin’s Prince Igor as reconstituted in 2014 by the director Dmitri Tcherniakov. Mr. Osborne: “[It] sold out the house and generated an astoundingly acquiescent critical . . . response of a sort you’d expect from collaborationists greeting an occupying force. . . . That this takedown of a production and sadsack performance should stir not a whiff of dissent, not a scrap of controversy, is a mark of a dead artform.”
It would be a shame if this killed Osborne’s chances of a review in the New York Times.
Read on here.
It’s all musical chairs at the Pacifica Quartet, which has the coveted residency at Bloomington Indiana.
A year ago the Pacifica changed two players, a violinist and violist.
Happens.
Now we hear that Mark Holloway is coming down from New York to replace the violist who replaced the violist.
Got that? (Don’t go looking at the quartet’s website or social media because they haven’t been updated in months.)
Violist Masumi Rostad quit a year ago and his replacement, Guy Ben-Ziony, has now followed him through the swing doors. Guy does not even mention the Pacifica on his website. Like it never happened.
I guess we’ll be hearing from their PR.
From our book club moderator, Anthea Kreston:
Welcome to the Fortnightly Music Book Club. This week, in addition to the second portion of our video interview of Roberto Dìaz, President and CEO of Curtis Institute of Music, we are privy to inside glimpses into the fascinating world of the Serkin/Busch family. Reader questions are being answered by David Ludwig, composer and faculty at Curtis, and grandson to Rudi Serkin and Irene Busch.
The three books, all related to Curtis and its Directors, are:
Powerhouse
A Life (Rudolf Serkin)
I Really Should be Practicing (Gary Graffman)
Anthea Kreston:
In these three books, the reader gets a clear sense that the Directorship of Curtis has both managed to remain true to its original ideas from 1924, founded on the great European and Russian traditions, while at the same time moving forward and leading the way to the future boldly. I even sense this in the three generations of Serkin family which has been an integral, and unbroken part of Curtis. Can you tell us about your specific relation to Rudi and Peter Serkin, The Busches, and how do you feel that you are similar or different from these generations (and them from one another).
David Ludwig:
Rudolf Serkin is my grandfather, which for some reason is confusing for people (mostly because I have my father’s last name, I think…) He was my mother’s (Elizabeth Serkin) father (and so Peter is my uncle—her younger brother). He died when I was a teenager-just starting college—and I spent time with him all my life until then—went to concerts when he played in Philly or New York, and would usually visit for holidays in Vermont. He was the most amazing grandparent you could imagine and I think about him all the time. I got up the courage to talk to him about music as I was really beginning to be comfortable in my desire to be a composer, and he shared with me all sorts of things about his time studying with Schoenberg et al when he was young, and many of his colleagues (I was a guitar player, and he told me lots of stories about his friendship with Segovia, for instance…)
My grandmother was Irene Busch-Serkin. Her father was Adolf Busch, the violinist, and so Busch is my great grandfather.
Peter has been an amazing presence in my life, and actually Curtis brought us closer together this year when the school did its European tour. That was the most time I’d spent consistently with him. To see his reverence for the music he performed with the orchestra (Brahms 1) and the reverence, in turn, shared by the students was very inspiring. It was reminder of why we make music––at Peter’s last performance on the tour the students lined up in scores to take a picture with him. I think he’s a consummate artist (as biased as I might be!) and adore his programming choices, which shows the widest perspective of our musical tradition that I know.
When I was coming up I never volunteered my family background because I wanted to do my own thing without the onus of that history or the assumption of validity that comes with it. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to embrace this history and be openly proud of where I come from. I don’t see these family members from my past as casting shadows, but as lights along the way.
At Curtis, I feel my grandfather’s presence strongly in the school’s emphasis on chamber music, practice, and technique as a vehicle to artistry. I know he broadened the school’s purview, and felt the importance of opera and other programs, as well—in many ways he prepared Curtis artistically to continue artistically long after he left. How the school has evolved in the past decade I feel is really positive, too; there are a wide array of options for students to pursue in their studies, a vitality and importance in contemporary music, and the means to explore the world as a young artist—all keeping a focus on the fact that being a great musician first is the key that unlocks the door to everything else.
The short and longer answer to your question is that I feel my grandfather’s presence alive and well at Curtis—not just in myself, but in all of the people still there who knew him as a mentor or who had mentors who worked with him. This is a kind of inheritance passed down, of which I am very aware, and I am very grateful to be a part of it both in my life as an artist and teacher—and as a six year old kid who used to run around outside causing mayhem with his grandfather in Vermont!
The great Russian baritone, who died of brain cancer in November, left instructions that his ashes should be divided between Moscow and his home town, Krasnoyarsk.
The second capsule was laid to rest yesterday at the Krasnoyarsk State Institute of Arts. May his good soul rest in peace.
From the neuropsychologist Esther Klag:
I was a graduate student in Israel, idealistic and naive, working with a boy who had cerebral palsy and some motor difficulties. He was passionate – and serious – about classical music, dreamed of playing an instrument or being involved in music in some way, but in those days this was considered pure fantasy. He was left out of music classes at school. His loving family were puzzled why anyone would want to play or even listen to music if he couldn’t dance the hora to it.
I tried to research options for him – phoned, wrote, enquired. Then I thought of Noam Sheriff. I had been at a concert of his, impressed and moved by him. I looked him up in the phone book and called, just to ask for a possible contact.
Not only did Noam speak with me at length, he invited this boy to his home so that he could get an idea of how he could help! The boy left my room a changed lad and I remain blown away by the sheer kindness and unstinting respect of the famous man for an unknown child and for music.
The fabulous Inge Borkh has joined the immortals, the NZZas reports.
Unsurpassed as Elektra and Salome, and unfailingly musical, she was the great dramatic soprano of the mid-20th century, commanding every major stage.
Born in Germany as Ingeborg Simon (the date seems to be flexible) but forced to leave because her father was Jewish, she rose to stardom in Switzerland and stormed the world from 1950. She recorded on several labels, sometimes suffering from too close miking.
Her husband, the bass Alexander Welitsch, died in 1991.
Shocked and saddened by the sudden death of a dear friend, I must mention a quality of Noam’s that I have seldom encountered in any other musician.
Tributes in the past 24 hours speak of Noam’s dedication to music and musicians, the respect he showed to everyone – from a first-year student to Leonard Bernstein – his insatiable curiosity and his sharp wit in three languages, often blended in one sentence. Not to mention that bubbling sense of fun.
The thing about Noam is that he always had time for everyone. No matter how pressing a deadline, how demanding a rehearsal, how late he was for lunch, Noam would give attention to every person that crossed his path. A walk to the shops with Noam was a theatre of human relations. He knew every passerby by name, and all of their life stories. He would stop and chat as I looked at my watch. He had time for everyone and he gave it with unthinking generosity.
In return, everyone had time for Noam. I once had to get from his house in the middle of the country to an appointment in Safed, in the Galilee, a 100-mile journey impossible by public transport. Noam said ‘Yossi will take you.’ Yossi was a neighbour who knew nothing about symphonic music but he knew there was a great man who lived on his street, a man who would do anything for others and expected nothing in return.
That was Noam. That’s who we have lost.
We’ve received dozens of messages, many of them private, expressing serious disquiet at Garsington Opera’s summary decision to replace its freelance orchestra with two brand-name bands, the Philharmonia and the English Concert.
Garsington’s orchestra, comprised of outstanding London players, has been praised to the skies for its fabulously engaged performances in the heart of an English meadow under the direction of Douglas Boyd.
But Boyd has been gifted a deal by the Philharmonia, which has little work in summer. His letter to the Garsington players falls some way short of sympathetic:
Your loyalty and the excellence of your playing have contributed hugely to the artistic development of Garsington Opera and have been deeply appreciated by everybody. I realise that this will be enormously disappointing to many of you, but my role is to plan what I feel is best for the future of Garsington Opera as a whole. I hope this letter at least offers an explanation. I also hope that by informing you at this stage, it gives you time to plan your summer schedules from 2020 onwards….
I would have preferred to have explained this to you in person rather than send a letter, but the practicality of getting everyone together outside of the season presents many difficulties. Nevertheless, we hope some of you are able to join us on 13 September as we would like to offer you the opportunity to talk this through with us.
The bulk of Garsington’s orchestra have played together, dined together, laughed together, lived together for 30 years, only to be chucked out like chaff. Garsington has been one of England’s greatest musical successes of the past generation. This is a bloodstain on its manicured lawns. A case for Hercule Poirot at the Arts Council, which funds the Philharmonia to take other musicians’ jobs.
George Walker has died.
The first Afro-American graduate of Curtis, he won a Pulitzer prize in 1996 for Lilacs for voice and orchestra and received his first performance at the BBC Proms only last summer.
