December 27,
2006
The joyous sound of
gospel
An UpDate on Andre's
Speical Guests - The Harlem Gospel Choir
~~ VILNIUS - Few people in
the Baltics know a thing about gospel, yet
almost everyone knows the Harlem Gospel Choir.
Indeed, the group is known world-wide, having
toured the globe for 20 years with their
spirit-lifting music. Founded in 1986 by Allen
Bailey, the choir was inspired by a celebration
in honor of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. at the
renowned Cotton Club in Harlem.
Determined to create a black choir to travel the
country singing Christian messages of love,
peace and harmony, Bailey sought out some of
Harlem’s most talented gospel singers. Little
did he know that one day the choir’s music would
span the globe.
As part of its Christian ambition, the Harlem
Gospel Choir strives to make the world a more
loving and peaceful place. Indeed, the choir has
earned a reputation for donating a generous
percentage of ticket earnings to various
philanthropies. And the group’s dynamic music
has opened up an international sea of eyes to
African-American culture.
According to the choir’s Web site, the theme of
every performance is "bringing people and
nations together" and, of course, "giving
something back." And there are few better ways
to do this than through the universal language
of music.
Gospel originated in the early 1930s in America.
In many respects it is closely related to the
blues, inasmuch as both genres were a unique
means of expression for black people in a deeply
divided society. But where the blues revels in a
sense of hopelessness, gospel music is
extraordinarily uplifting and exhilarating.
Spontaneous, vibrant and almost hypnotic, it’s
hard not to like gospel. At its best the music
is infectiously joyful, at its worst something
to confusedly awe over.
This year, the Harlem Gospel Choir has already
had the honor of performing with the alternative
Grammy-winning band the Gorillaz. The choir has
also enjoyed four never-to-be-repeated concerts
at the Apollo Theater in Harlem; with Avril
Lavigne; with Yolanda Adams; with Cindy Lauper;
and with Andre Rieu and his Johann Strauss
Orchestra.
And to cap off 2006, the dynamic choir will be
singing its way through the Baltics on its "God
Bless the Children" world tour. There’s no
better way to celebrate the holidays than among
voices of joy.
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December 19,
2006
Hello Dear
Fans. We have all heard Andre say that if
the World made Music together, then there would
be no War. Playing For Peace: The
Barenboim Orchestra is made up of Israeli & Arab
Orchestra Members. They play beautiful
music and hope to teach others that they as
people can live together in peace.
Barenboim's
Orchestra Plays For Peace in Ramallah
In a concert hall atop
a dust-swept, sun-beaten hill yesterday
afternoon, Daniel Barenboim was putting an
orchestra through its paces, urging them, as he
brandished his way through the opening bars of
Beethoven's Fifth: "Wake up! If you are tired,
please stay at home! There's no point playing
the concert like this. Now: TEE-ya ta-ta TEE-ya
ta-ta!"
One could forgive the
players for being a little distracted: the
concert hall in which they were rehearsing was
the Cultural Palace in Ramallah, and the
ensemble the West-Eastern Divan Orchestra - the
youth orchestra founded in 1998 by Barenboim and
his close friend, the Palestinian intellectual
Edward Said, consisting of musicians from Israel
and Arab countries.
This was a historic
day. Few had dared hope that the orchestra -
which aims to foster dialogue and reconciliation
through music - would succeed in performing in
the West Bank. A similar attempt by the
orchestra to play in Ramallah last year was
abandoned because of security fears.
It is not every day
that one sees a rehearsal being guarded by
troops armed with semi-automatic weapons, but
the atmosphere among the musicians was relaxed
and excited.
To enter Ramallah, each
musician was issued with a diplomatic passport
by the Spanish government (the orchestra's
summer training camps are based in Seville).
"Believe me, the logistics of this concert are
worth writing a book about," said Barenboim.
But, standing beneath
the West Bank barrier on Saturday at Ramallah's
Qalandiya checkpoint, he praised the governments
involved. "We have had the utmost cooperation -
and I'm not exactly shy; believe me, I would
certainly take this opportunity to complain if I
needed to."
Nabeel Abboud Ashkar, a
20-year-old Israeli-Arab born in Nazareth, said
after the rehearsal: "It's incredibly exciting
to be here. All along the idea of the orchestra
was to play in Arab countries, and I hope now
that it will fill its whole potential; and I
hope we will play in Israel.
"It takes great courage
for the Israelis to come to Ramallah, and
finally get to see the reality of how the
Palestinians live. It's a very symbolic and
strong gesture."
Last night the concert
hall filled up half an hour before the concert
began, and then kept on filling.
In the end people were
sitting three-deep in the aisles and standing at
the sides and the back of the hall, even the
great and the good of Ramallah reduced to a
perch on the floor.
The first standing
ovation came as Barenboim walked on stage.
Mozart's Sinfonia Concertante for oboe, horn,
clarinet and bassoon was embarked upon to a
chorus of clicking shutters.
After the final
thunderous notes of a passionately committed
performance of Beethoven's Fifth the next
standing ovation lasted over five minutes,
before the Palestinian information minister,
Nabeel Shath, praised Barenboim as "a humanist
and a peacemaker".
Finally, an emotional
Barenboim stepped onto the platform. "It is our
belief that the destinies of these two peoples,
Israel and Palestine, are inextricably linked
... either we all kill each other or we share
what there is to share. It is this message that
we have come here to bring."
The final message of
peace was brought not with speeches but with
music, with, as an encore, Nimrod from Elgar's
Enigma Variations.
By: Charlotte Higgins
in Ramallah
Chat About This on our BLOG
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December 4,
2006
André Rieu
waltzes in
The PBS star brings his brand of classical music
to Fresno.
By Donald Munro / The Fresno Bee
SEATTLE — Hair he is,
waltz fans. The Dutch conductor André Rieu
doesn't want his orchestra wandering onto the
stage and warming up like every other
classical-music ensemble. His musicians march.
Lined up two-by-two like candidates for a
three-quarter-time Noah's Ark procession,
pumping their instruments aloft to the beat,
they strut down the main aisle of the KeyArena —
which a few nights ago hosted Bob Dylan — as the
crowd on a recent October evening roars.
And right there, in the
thick of things, just four rows back from the
stage on the aisle, Dan Lycan is ready.
The 75-year-old retired
Army engineer from Manassas, Va., knows the
routine. He should after attending nearly 300
Rieu concerts over the past nine years,
including one last December in Fresno. (He won't
be making a return visit when Rieu plays tonight
at the Save Mart Center, however.) Lycan leaps
to his feet and greets the conductor, whose
famed curly mane spills luxuriously past his
shoulders as he whisks by with his violin in
hand.
Then it's hello from
Lycan to the musicians — the men clad in
traditional black tuxes, the women decked out in
shimmering shades of rainbow-sherbet-colored
evening gowns — many of whom he knows by name.
There are smiles,
handshakes and good-natured banter between
players and the crowd. It's less like the
beginning of a classical music concert and more
like a TV-sitcom cast pumping up the studio
audience before taping begins.
The musicians settle
into their tiered seats behind curlicued music
stands — designed by Rieu himself — whose
Bavarian-inspired white metallic swirls bring to
mind quaint cottages in the Swiss Alps.
Flashing a big smile at
the audience, an exuberant viola player in the
front row kicks up her leg.
This isn't exactly the
New York Philharmonic taking the stage at Avery
Fisher Hall.
And the evening's
program isn't what serious classical musical
fans would rush to embrace: a greatest-hits
progression of waltzes, marches, opera arias,
show tunes, patriotic songs and famous melodies,
all lavishly scored with swelling strings,
pumped-up percussion, plenty of robust brass and
a small soprano choir floating above it all like
an extra drizzle of chocolate sauce on a
decadent dessert.
Then again, when Rieu
and his Johann Strauss Orchestra march into the
Save Mart Center, his fans won't be expecting a
snooty, staid performance. In fact, a Rieu
concert is pretty much an anti-elitist
experience. (While some critics applaud his
populist approach, he has received rotten
reviews from many others.) Pulsating colored
lights, heavily miked instruments, live video
screens, silly skits and an infectious demeanor
among the musicians that suggests the lock-step
cheeriness of Disneyland employees all add up to
a joyous, happy experience for many of his fans,
who often wind up dancing in the aisles.
"The thing about his
concerts is that everyone has a good time," says
Lycan, who has seen Rieu's orchestra perform
in Japan, South Korea, Germany, Belgium and all
over the United States. "He's more interested in
making people happy than critics."
Most important is the
high-voltage personality of the 57-year-old
Rieu, known as "the Waltz King of Europe," whose
rock-star presence and chipper banter — not to
mention a sly swagger that has made him
something of a sex symbol among the 50-plus set
— set the tone of the concert from beginning to
end.
"They told me the
audience of Seattle is the most musical audience
of the whole world," he says to the crowd in his
accented English. "Is that true?"
Wild cheers.
He can play an audience
like a violin.
In the past 10 years,
Rieu has grown in the United States from
little-known orchestra leader to an
arena-concert powerhouse. Marketed almost
exclusively in this country by PBS affiliates,
who use his taped specials as pledge-drive
fodder, he has used his personal orchestra to
create something of a musical empire.
His CD "The Flying
Dutchman" (which is another of his nicknames)
hit No. 1 on Billboard's classical charts. He
has sold more than 20 million albums, plays to
huge crowds in Germany and performs nearly 50
times a year in North America.
Yet he's something of
an outsider when it comes both to the world of
popular culture and the classical-music
establishment, in part because he isn't pushed
by a corporate marketing budget. In doing so he
has followed in the footsteps of such crossover
artists as Andrea Bocelli, Sarah Brightman,
Celtic Woman and Josh Groban, all of whom have
gotten a boost from PBS.
At the Fresno concert,
for example, thousands of prime tickets on the
floor and sides have been allocated to donors to
KVPT, which is sponsoring the event. The station
cleared about $150,000 after expenses from last
year's concert and expects to make about the
same from this event.
"André Rieu is
definitely a large attraction for our Valley,"
says Paula Castadio, KVPT's president and chief
executive officer. "We know that when we air his
programs, our audience is responsive. There's
something about his performance that is so
stunning visually that they stop, watch and
support. It attracts new audiences to public
television."
It also can attract new
converts to classical music — at least when it's
presented Rieu-style.
Bob Walker, who works
in the sales department at KMJ radio, first got
hooked on Rieu's public-television specials. He
was drawn to the "fun factor" — the enthusiasm
of the conductor and performers.
After a career in radio
focusing on rock and country music, Walker had
never paid much attention to classical music.
"He opened that door," he says of Rieu's
influence. "I'm not sure I'll go through that
door any further, however."
Rieu's father was a
conductor, and his son played under his baton.
But he chafed at the stuffiness of the
presentation.
"I think classical
music is much too strict," Rieu says in a phone
interview from his headquarters in Maastricht in
the Netherlands. "It's too serious. It's only a
little world where it happens. I'm a classical
music fan, and I wanted to bring it to new
listeners."
His goal was clear from
the beginning: He wanted his own orchestra, and
he wanted to tour the world — on his own terms.
He always has been intensely involved with not
only the sound but the look and feel of his
shows.
"I designed the music
stands and the lights," he says. "I designed the
dresses."
It's all part of
getting the audience involved in the experience.
"I think the most
important thing is that when they come to my
concerts they should open their hearts," Rieu
says. "We will open our hearts, and we will have
a fantastic evening together."
But what about the
music?
There's often a
disconnect on this question between critics and
fans.
When Rieu played in
Kansas City, Mo., in April, the classical music
critic for the Kansas City Star, Paul Horsley,
himself provoked a torrent of criticism from
readers when he bashed Rieu.
"So let me state
clearly that the concert was one of the most
painful events of my adult life," he wrote.
(In a follow-up story,
the newspaper's readers' representative wrote
that one caller demanded: "You just tell me who
this Horsley thinks he is. I wish he'd have a
concert. I'd like to hear him play and tell him
how bad it was.")
Though Rieu has
generated other vehemently negative reviews, not
all critics are harsh.
Mark Shulgold, the
music and dance writer for The Rocky Mountain
News, admired Rieu's "refined" musicianship.
"One could only leave the Pepsi Center admiring
the sincerity of the man," he wrote. "He clearly
loves the music he plays, and his fans clearly
love the man who plays the music. Simple as
that."
Castadio, at KVPT, says
she never has heard anything negative about the
conductor.
"I've never heard of
any controversy over his music from our
audience," she says. "To me, it was probably the
best concert I've ever been to."
Rieu's arrangements are
sweet and melodic. They can also be bombastic.
When the orchestra in Seattle plays an
arrangement of Andrew Lloyd Webber's "Don't Cry
For Me, Argentina," which in its original form
isn't exactly a subtle experience, the result is
a wall of sound hitting you like a truck. The
French horns, which famously thunder the theme
near the end of Lloyd Webber's version, in this
case seem twice as loud and three times as drawn
out, as if Rieu is trying to wring every last
drop of emotion until Eva Peron is left in a
wilted heap.
This is the kind of
thing that can drive critics crazy. But
audiences love it.
Vicki Kunkel, chief
executive officer of Chicago-based Leader Brand
Strategists, who has written a
soon-to-be-published book titled "The Velcro
Effect: How to Master Mass Appeal," says that
it's possible to explain why certain songs and
arrangements trigger positive reactions.
"I think critics are
very aware of technical elements that make a
piece great," she says. "What they might be
missing are the emotional connections and the
parts of the brain that are activated and
aroused by visual elements, performance elements
and the overall demeanor of a performer."
In Rieu's personal
presentation on stage, Kunkel says, he is a
cross between a rock star and comedian. By
joking with the audience, he gets them involved
in the event. Instead of passive listeners they
become participants. A performer's enthusiasm
sells.
Benjamin Boone, an
associate professor of music at California State
University, Fresno, who studies music and
psychology, says repetition in a song can be
highly pleasing to a listener.
"The brain is
constantly searching for patterns," he says.
"That's just how we're made."
There also is a strong
associative effect of music. Some songs trigger
pleasant memories.
The result: sweet,
hummable, well-known harmonies can make a crowd
feel all tingly. Yet those same harmonies can
seem over-the-top to some people, particularly
when they're lushly (some would say
bombastically) arranged. It's a sensitive issue:
Two important components of musical
sophistication, experts say, are exposure and
education, but to emphasize that point is to
come across as a snob. Who wants to denigrate
someone else's enthralling emotional experience?
But as a critic, shouldn't standards be upheld?
Boone, a classical
composer and jazz saxophonist, notes that a
strong undercurrent of snobbery runs through the
jazz world, for example.
"A lot of people knock
Kenny G or Maynard Ferguson because they're not
'real jazz musicians.' From a critical
perspective, I have to agree wholeheartedly. But
I came to jazz music through people like Kenny
G. It's OK for people to gravitate toward music
for associative reasons. The bottom line is that
they're listening to music and enjoying it."
Which is why many
people simply ignore the sniping. Walker, the
KMJ fan, couldn't care less what critics say.
"I'm glad I'm on
André's side," he says.
It's nearing the end of
the Seattle concert, and what a rambunctious
scene it's become in the arena. There has been
an astonishingly vigorous solo performance of "I
Could Have Danced All Night" from "My Fair Lady"
— complete with a pronounced rumbalike wiggle
from the singer every time she sang the word
"danced" — and a lengthy arrangement of Strauss'
"The Blue Danube Waltz," during which a
white-haired man with a bright-red bow tie
dancing just a few feet in front of the stage
spun around a gray-haired lady in royal blue
dress and matching bow in her hair.
Then there is a routine
in which two orchestra members bang on an anvil
to the "Feuerfest" polka. A burly string player
strips off his tuxedo jacket and shirt, flings
them at the pianist and reveals a Gold's Gym
muscle-T-shirt beneath. Not to be outdone, a far
skinnier French horn player races to the front
and strips down to his own tank top. By the end
of the skit, both have posed, body-builder
style, to appreciative guffaws.
The most amusing thing
is the obvious appeal to the target demographic:
Instead of young hunks, these are silver-haired
gents.
For Lycan, the
ultra-Rieu fan — the conductor calls him his
"American groupie" — the concerts are ways to
connect with friends. Now, when he goes to
Germany, Lycan and his wife, Alice, stay with
friends he met through Internet message boards.
He has a 20-page list of people he has met from
all over the world.
Lycan takes his fandom
seriously. He belongs to 25 PBS stations across
the country — memberships he bought so he could
get premium Rieu tickets.
And in the parlance of
the orchestra, he has become the "Banner Man."
At the end of each concert he attends, Lycan
unfurls a large, computer-generated banner with
a personalized message for Rieu. In Fresno last
December, his sign read: "Vote for Andre for
Governator."
"That one just broke
people up," he says. "Even the cameraman on
stage was laughing."
On stage, Rieu notes
that his orchestra members play with all their
hearts — all the time. Thanking the crowd, he
says, "It's all about being accepted by the
public. Only then can a musician give all his
energy."
By this time, Lycan has
walked to the front to unveil tonight's banner.
There's a big picture of Rieu on it next to a
much smaller one of George W. Bush. The message:
"Let's Put Andre in the White House."
Just imagine the new
arrangement of "Hail to the Chief."
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Part
of the color in celebration of the season is the blooming of Christmas
roses. While a variety of plants over time have come to be called “Christmas
Rose”, they all are steeped in a legend that dates back centuries.