Vanya and Sonia and Masha(!) and Spike(!)

L to R: Anthony Fusco, Caroline Kaplan, Mark Junek and Lorri Holt. Photo courtesy of kevinberne.com

One of the best suggestions I ever took was to take an acting class in order to learn the mechanics of what actors really do. It turned out to be an education in more ways than one, especially on the day when eight pairs of students had to perform the same page of dialogue from Neil Simon's Barefoot in the Park. I had never seen the play, nor the movie, but my familiarity with the author gave me an idea of how the scene should probably go. Or so I thought. The instructor gave us no rules or guidelines beyond the directive "learn the lines." How we delivered them was up to us.

So it came as no small revelation on the day when the eight pairs of us wannabe actors performed eight scenes from eight completely different plays. We all delivered the exact same lines, but that was really the only thing each performance had in common. It was pretty amazing to see how such seemingly ordinary lines could have so many interpretations- and how many of those interpretations were wholly justifiable decisions. By turns the scene was funny, melodramatic, absurd, and sad. It all depended on the delivery.

In the years since, I've often watched plays and films and wondered what would be different if the lines a given actor, or some part of their performance, were delivered differently. I've also noticed that when I begin to ask myself these questions it means I'm not sold on the performance I'm watching. Something happening onstage or onscreen is pulling me from the immediate experience, making me desire an alternative version. Most recently I experienced this last week at the Roda Theatre during Berkeley Rep's opening night of the West Coast premiere of Christopher Durang's Tony Award-winning Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike. 

All of the actors assembled for this Chekovian farce are top-notch, as is the set by Kent Dorsey and the costumes by Debra Beaver Bauer.Sadly, it's the direction by Richard E.T. White that undermines Durang's witty script, which is laden with sharp dialogue, vivid characters, some keen insight and more than a few laughs. The script of Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike takes characters, situations, and themes from Chekov's plays and spins them into frothy social commentary featuring Vanya and Sonia, who have spent the last fifteen years caring for their now-deceased parents now rambling around a huge Pennsylvania home in their pajamas, supported by their sister Masha, a Hollywood actress now getting offered matronly roles after a career of being cast as a sexpot. One day Masha returns home unexpectedly with the intent of selling the family home, effectively kicking her siblings to the curb after they've sacrificed their entire lives sacrificing their entire lives for their parents.

The early scenes with Anthony Fusco (Vanya) and Sharon Lockwood (Sonia) serving up long-held frustrations and resentments to one another before Masha's return set the stage for a promising evening which goes off the rails shortly after Masha's (Lorri Holt) entrance with Spike (Mark Junek), her most recent male-of-the-month. For the next two hours White has Holt and Junek perform "at eleven" without once letting the actors breathe a bit of actual life into the roles by allowing them to dial it down a bit. Instead, the farce becomes forced, and Durang's succession of well-crafted exchanges becomes frustrating, then exhausting, as everyone keeps playing the same repeated note for volume rather than effect. And that's a shame because when the audience finally does get to see a glimpse behind the mask of these characters it's apparent that an opportunity at sharp, subtle comedy (see Chekov, Anton) comedy has been tossed away in favor of a shallow attempt to fish a constant stream of yuks from the audience.

Lockwood slyly steals the show, managing to give Sonia a real arc despite the clatter around her. Fusco has a brilliant moment during a haranguing monologue pitting the digital present against a Kodachrome past. Heather Alicia Simms manages to rise above almost uncomfortable stereotyping as Cassandra, the household maid who can sometimes accurately foretell the future, sometimes not so much, and Caroline Kaplan scores the highest ratio of hitting the target dead-on as Nina, a young neighbor who walked off the set of The Seagull to admire Masha and Spike but becomes a student of Uncle Vanya.

Holt and Junek don't fare as well, though one wishes they could. Both are obviously talented actors, and Junek's physical presence onstage is massive, but through the majority of the play neither is given much of an opportunity to present their characters as more than caricatures. White doesn't seem to understand that the script has already done that part for them- what would have been nice to see is the humanity that's hiding in just beneath the surface, and as I said, when he finally does it's too late. The ending also feels forced and false- it's way too sunshiny, and a little "Rain" would have been more appropriate. That one's on Durang.

 Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike plays through October 25th at Berkeley Rep's Roda Theatre.

Emanuel Ax plays Beethoven

Although it was almost 20 years ago I can still remember the precise moment I fell in love with Beethoven. I don't mean when I started to like Beethoven- I mean when his music became something of an obsession with me. At the time I was living in an apartment above the post office in La Honda (pop. 500), working at an Italian restaurant near the Stanford campus, and taking a survey course on Western music appreciation at a community college. The class had progressed through Bach, Vivaldi and Mozart and though I had taken to playing The Four Seasons in my car at a volume level usually reserved for Social Distortion, I hadn't yet experienced that moment where it all made intuitive sense to me. An upcoming assignment was Beethoven's Piano Concerto No. 3, so after checking my Penguin Guide for some recommendations I picked up a copy of Emanuel Ax performing the 3rd and 4th, with Andre Previn conducting the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra (RCA), at a local store.

It must have been after dinner when I put the CD in the player because I remember it was already dark outside. I was alone, so I turned the volume up pretty high and sat down on the couch. The disc came with no liner notes so I was just sitting there listening to what sounded pretty good Mozart on steroids for about three minutes when orchestra heaved three times and fell silent. What came next I could only relate to as a monster riff. It was like hearing "Smoke On the Water" or "Whole Lotta Love" for the first time. Though the orchestra had just played pretty much the same theme, hearing it coming from the piano was a revelation. The thought "now that's rock and roll" popped into my head, and my obsession began. By the way, I found the rest of the disc to as compelling, and once I heard the 4th Concerto I wondered why we were studying the 3rd, since the 4th was so obviously superior (I still think of it as being one of Beethoven's very finest compositions- certainly it's the best of the piano concertos).

So needless to say I've always had a soft spot for that particular recording, though until this week I had never seen Ax perform in concert. But now here he was, in town to perform the 3rd with the San Francisco Symphony. I had been quietly looking forward to this concert for weeks.

It began with Mahler's Blumine, which received a gorgeous performance less than a year and a half ago but I welcomed the opportunity to hear it again. It offers Principal Trumpet Mark Inoyue an outstanding showcase of which he took complete advantage to show off his formidable skills with a series of elegantly elongated notes that melted into one's ears. Concertmaster Alexander Barantschik was equally impressive.

While the piano was being raised to the stage I tried to eavesdrop on what the two ladies seated next to us were saying to composer Samuel Carl Adams, who sitting alone in front of them, but I couldn't make any of out as I was also paying attention to Margarita's narrative about an upcoming adventure she has planned. I found it intriguing to see Adams here, and wondered if there was one particular piece that drew him to this program.

Ax's performance was everything I had hoped for, and even taking my sentimental bias out the picture, he and the orchestra were marvelous. I noted in a post at the beginning of this year how foolish I had been to choose not to attend many of the concerts featuring the standard rep in recent years, and here was another reminder of how good this orchestra is with the basics. MTT and Ax were in perfect sync with each other, taking the 3rd at a robust tempo in the first movement, amplifying the early heroic tone of the work, noticeably bringing out textures which make it seem hard to fathom this is 200 years old because it sounds so thoroughly contemporary in many aspects. As Ax soloed through the first movement I thought that someone hearing this for the first time in 1804 must have felt the same way people did when they heard Eddie Van Halen's "Eruption" in 1978- "well, no one's done that before," since Beethoven was incorporating new design elements for the piano into a composition for the first time. And even if one isn't susceptible to the pyrotechnics, Ax was still remarkably on target with it, never showy, but very precise and noticeably engaged with his fellow musicians at every moment. They kept it up all the way through, and Ax received one of the most deserved standing ovations I've witnessed in some time. He returned for an encore- Schumann's "Des Abends," which only left me wishing there was more.

The second half of the concert looked quite odd on paper but turned out to be something I would like to see a lot more of in the future. MTT explained he modeled this half of the program based on his experiences at USC attending the salons of Jascha Heifetz, where short pieces would merit the same attention and level of dedicated performance as would normally be found for longer works. Copland's music for the film version of "Our Town" was first, and though the program stated it was about nine minutes long it felt like twenty for some reason, though that's not to say I didn't enjoy it the first half of it before I felt like we were driving around it in circles. Shorter gems from Debussy, Delius, Sibelius, Rachmaninoff and Delibes followed, and it worked quite well. More, please.

As we were leaving the concert I learned Ax was signing CDs in the lobby, so I did something I never do and stood in line to thank him personally. He was quite gracious about it, which only made me like him that much more.

Mefistofele

The Easter parade. Photo by Cory Weaver.

On Friday night at 6:45 PM I gave the woman behind the ticket counter $10 and in return she gave me standing room ticket #31, which meant San Francisco Opera's revival of Arrigo Boito's Mefistofele wasn't going to be very crowded. I went inside, placed my coat near the center of the orchestra level rail, then went outside to read the program and enjoy a cup of coffee. The main article in the program didn't make it sound like I was going to regret going on the cheap, as it included this quote about the opera from none other than the composer's friend and eventual publisher Giulio Ricordi:

“Boito has written an opera with many virtues and not a few defects. The question is: are these defects due to inexperience as regards the stage and matters theatrical? In that case, so much the better; we shall note a steady progress from one opera to the next, and in due course I shall hope to number Boito among the great composers. If, however, these faults are the result of a preconceived theory, of an unshakable artistic conviction, then I must say with all the frankness which informs my warm and deeply felt friendship for Boito: you may be a poet and a distinguished man of letters, but you will never be a composer for the musical stage.”

Next came this quote from George Bernard Shaw:

“Boito’s version of the Faust story seems almost as popular as Gounod’s, though Gounod’s is a true musical creation whereas Boito has only adapted the existing resources of orchestration and harmony very ably to his libretto. The whole work is a curious example of what can be done in opera by an accomplished literary man without original musical gifts, but with ten times the taste and culture of a musician of only ordinary extraordinariness.”

Reading this made me wonder why San Francisco Opera can be so prickly when someone slams one of their productions because apparently they're actually paying someone to write program notes stating what you're about to see and hear was once considered by experts to be shit.

Despite being almost twenty-five years old, Robert Carsen's production is one of the best things I've seen on the stage of the War Memorial in quite a long time. Michael Levine's sets and Gary Marder's lighting are gorgeous to look at and exquisitely detailed, from the flaming, blood-red curtain of their theater-within-a-theater concept to the priapic costuming of the male chorus during the Witches Sabbath scene, there is always something visual clamoring for one's attention. The conclusion of the Prologue, with the chorus occupying the entire stage and four tiers of opera boxes filled with trios of angels holding candles aloft as they belt out "Hail to thee," is one of those moments that could easily turn a first-time opera goer into an enthusiast. It gave me chills of pleasure, though the music caused me to make a mental note to check which came first, Mefistofele or Mascagni's Cavalleria Rusticana because there was some "borrowing" going on somewhere. Cav is the latter work, and in thinking about it I wonder if Mascagni's intent was to create a leitmotif based on the Faustian theme, which would be a nice touch, or did he just steal some ear candy from Boito? Probably the latter.

Act 1 starts off with an Easter Sunday carnival, which is an even greater delight than what came before. I haven't seen something on this stage with this much visual energy since the 1999 production of Un Ballo in Maschera, which was idiotically destroyed for some reason during the Rosenberg era. Ironically, that production also featured the SFO debut of tenor Ramon Vargas, who took over the role of Riccardo during the last two performances from an ailing Richard Margison. I was in the house for the first of them, and Vargas made his entrance by bursting onstage with an exuberance and energy that I've never seen nor heard from him since. Vargas is the Faust of this production, co-starring with Ildar Abdrazakov as Mefistofele. Vargas and Abdrazakov know these roles well because they've performed them together before- not only in Boito's operatic version of Goethe's story, but also in Berlioz's and Gounod's. It's kind of strange if you ask me, like they've become the operatic version of Robert DeNiro and Joe Pesci's appearances in gangster films.

Perhaps it's this over familiarity with each other and the roles that saps both men's performances of some much needed charisma. While Abdrazakov undoubtedly has the physical presence to play the Devil, and can ham it up with ease, his performance lacks wit and engagement. During Act 2's Walpurgis Night scene he's placed on a long buffet table surrounded by minions who are having a wickedly good time beneath him but all he does is sit leisurely on a throne. I was thinking while watching this how static it felt despite all the hubbub coming from the chorus and that the Devil should be dancing across that table, not idly sitting on it. The fault for this may lie with the revival's director Laurie Feldman, but I would think that Abdrazakov, with all his experience in the part, would have something more to contribute besides mugging his way through the scenes, no matter how adroitly. His voice too, has lost some of it menace since I last heard him as the Devil in the Berlioz version at the Met in 2009 (yes, Vargas was Faust in that one as well), his lower register becoming inaudible at times.

Vargas frustrates me. He's capable of great singing, can be an engaging actor, and possesses a distinct instrument. But the last few times I've seen him he seems to coast through most of the performance, saving his powers for his last big moment onstage where he decides to really let loose, but for the previous three hours he looked and sounded like he was simply going through the motions. Not that Boito has given him a Faust to work with of any depth or dimension, in fact of three versions in the standard rep his is the least interesting, but Vargas seemed to have nothing to offer beyond what's on the page.

Patricia Racette is too mature to be convincing as Margherita at this point, which makes sense since she also sang the role here in 1994. However, this is a distraction only during Act 2, where the richness of her tone and physical stature are incapable of letting her come across convincingly as an innocent youth. Her voice seemed stretched, shrill during the quartet in the garden scene, no doubt from the ridiculous burden she's currently placing on it by performing lead roles in two operas at once. In Act 3, which returns her to the garden, now an almost unrecognizable wasteland, her maturity becomes an asset as Margherita grieves over the death of her mother and child, the end result of her affair with Faust. Like Vargas was to do in the Epilogue, she summoned a stunning amount of power for her final aria, and with the exception of one alarmingly off note slipping through during her first aria, she sang the big moments with impressive strength and clarity.

Current Adler Fellows Chaunyue Wang as Wagner and Erin Johnson as Marta were both impressive in the smaller roles, especially Johnson's breasts which could merit their own mention in the cast as Jello On Springs, to quote Jack Lemmon. Marina Harris was good as Helen of Troy during Act 4, but at this point the opera really begins to drag, and both she and Renee Rapier as Pantalis have somewhat unfortunate assignments because I can't imagine anyone's attention isn't beginning to wander toward their watch during this part, which is largely devoid of any excitement onstage.

After Faust's death, a moment which despite Vargas' best vocal efforts contains little drama, the angels in the theater return, ending the show on another stunning high note. Nicola Luisotti led the orchestra in a thoroughly robust performance, but certainly didn't disprove Shaw's observations. See it for the production values and the work of the chorus, both of which are remarkable.

Mahler visits the Gibichung Inn of Catastrophes

Photo from Out West Arts

Last night I went to hear Mahler's 9th Symphony for the third time in roughly two years. Bookended by performances from the San Francisco Symphony under Michael Tilson Thomas was an extraordinary, had-to-be-heard-to-be-believed account led by Esa-Pekka Salonen with the London Philharmonia Orchestra last November. Salonen managed to make the entire ninety-odd minute beast compelling from the first movement through the third, and then broke my heart in half with a fourth which left me in tears afterward. MTT and the SFS aren't as nearly devastating with the same material, largely because in their hands the inner movements don't completely reconcile with the [more important] outer two. The second and third have their delights, to be sure, as if the weight of the world sitting upon Mahler's shoulders (and it was, as the piece followed a very dark part of the composer's life) were suddenly tossed off for a night out on the town, but what makes it worth attending a performance is the profundity of the first and the heartbreak of the last movements, both of which are drenched in Wagner's influence.

The first evoked loss and remorse, then angst and resignation before coming to rest at the Gibichung Inn of Catastrophes. It's not so much a journey from darkness to light as it is finally gaining a sense of tenuous security after having surrendered to something unknown and accepting what comes of the choice. The concluding solos by Principal Flute Tim Day and Concertmaster Alexander Barantschik were gorgeous. The climax of the third was a thundering success, and yes, there's a reason I have nothing really to say of interest about the second. The fourth was a master class on how to show off an orchestra, apparently done by performing the fourth movement of Mahler's 9th. It's almost as beautiful as Tristan, and there's no need to hire any singers.

The program repeats nightly through September 21. Get tickets here.

Di Castri's "Lineage" breaks with the past, and Bronfman kills it (again)

Zosha Di Castri

Lineage, by 28-year-old composer Zosha Di Castri, is the first commission to come out of a new partnership between the The San Francisco and New World Symphonies and the music publisher Boosey & Hawkes. In the program notes for its West Coast premiere Di Castri describes it as “a combination of change and consistency, a re-imagining of places and traditions I’ve known only second-hand, the sound of a fictitious culture one dreams up to keep the memories of another generation alive.” It's a disarmingly honest statement about the work, and an accurate one. Intentionally or not, it's also a revealing truth about the music from a new generation of composers now emerging in concert halls- a generation which views (and experiences) 20th Century composers as being of  a distinct era, now past, and notably not their own. These are composers whose living role models aren't Copeland, Stravinsky, Ives, Harrison, etc. Not Messiaen, or even Carter. Their living models are composers like Adams, Glass, Penderecki, Golijov and and Saariaho. I imply no judgement regarding these contemporary composers vs. their predecessors, but bring attention to this only to illustrate a distinctly new era is underway. It is taking place now.

More importantly, these younger composers are coming of age during an era when there is much more than just the Western Art music tradition to draw from, more than just music itself, actually. Technology may prove to be a greater influence on them than Beethoven or Berg ever will be. So is it a surprise that Di Castri's first piece written for a full orchestra has a structure more closely resembling the rapid-fire, montage style of an MTV video or current film than a tone poem or anything resembling sonata form? She wasn't even alive when Michael Jackson's Thriller was released. 

As Lineage unfolded the musicians kept issuing snippet after snippet of arresting, alluring music- little threads that I kept hoping would expand and develop into full themes, but none did- one would just be taken over by another in a constantly shifting kaleidoscope of texture and sounds- some soft and scratchy, some noticeably melodic, but none for maybe more than 20 seconds. A constant tease, especially since many of them sounded so promising. It was a technique resembling sampling- something that has been going on in pop music for the entirety of Di Castri's life, and a form as familiar to someone her age as a triad is to earlier generations. For some listeners that may have proved frustrating, possibly even uninteresting, but for me it was like hearing what the future is going to sound like- and it sounds pretty damn interesting, though it is quite different- at least for those of us raised on a set of musical assumptions that may have been declared obsolete or irrelevant while we weren't paying attention. But the "change and consistency" she mentioned, those "places and traditions I’ve known only second-hand" proved to be true. Nicely done.

Next, Yefim Bronfman strode onstage to perform Tchaikovsky's Piano Concerto No. 1 (speaking of which, what ever what happened to No. 2? Is it ever performed?). I've mentioned before that Bronfman is my personal favorite pianist to hear in concert and he proved why again with this astounding performance. His ability to play with such a substantial difference of force in each hand boggles my mind. During the first movement his left was a constant source of deliberation, almost relentless, while his right always seemed to float gently above the keys, still making each note distinctly heard within and above the orchestra, which was in rock-solid alignment with him. The first movement was so brilliantly played it drew a substantial ovation when it concluded from throughout the house. 

The second movement, the tone of which to me has always alternated between an acknowledgement of winter's melancholy and a paean to the potential found in every spring, and the dancing propulsion of the third, found Bronfman steadfastly refusing to linger over any of it, refusing to milk a single note, a common practice with lesser pianists which so often turns this masterpiece into romantic gloop. This was true of his approach to the first movement as well, but became more obvious here with their briefer lengths and less luxuriant orchestral parts, which MTT led with a surprisingly taut, muscular sound. Once again, Fima killed it. In fact, this may have been the best performance of his I've attended so far.

After the intermission the orchestra played Prokofiev's Third Symphony, a relative rarity, and I can understand why. It utilizes elements from the composer's opera The Fiery Angel, which I'm unfamiliar with but now am rather keen to at hear if not see, because musically this thing is an assault on the ears led by the most overpowering brass section I have ever heard in my life. It was initially frightening, as befits the opera's story, but in the end it felt wearisome, all but obliterating the afterglow of Bronfman's gorgeous performance. There was one superb moment where Mark Inouye and another trumpet player, breaking apart from the phalanx of brass, delivered a brief passage played so softly the sudden contrast was stunning. But the bombast of the whole largely eclipsed these few fine moments scattered throughout the piece, despite fine playing from the entire orchestra, especially the strings, which sound better than ever.

Not the dead poet-

If you haven't already noticed, Thomas May (not the dead poet), who is easily among the very best music writers of our era, recently began a blog called Memeteria. I find this delightful for two reasons: the first is because his writing has always been extremely informative, insightful, and straightforward; second, there's been a lot discussion and hand-wringing lately about the current state and uncertain future of classical music blogs and I find it refreshing (and reassuring) that one of the best in the business has decided to sit down at the table. All is not lost, Ms. Fine.

May has posted a link to his article for the world premiere of Tobias Picker's Dolores Claiborne, which opens at San Francisco Opera next week and after reading it my interest level in the new work, already high, rose substantially. He's also linked to a very interesting article by Philip Kennicott which recently appeared in The New Republic about the state of American orchestras that was, as May put it, "substantial and thought provoking," especially when one thinks about the San Francisco Symphony, which is in some ways following the ominous tide (as seen by Kennicott) and in others obstinately swimming against it (and I recommend you do read the comments). That's just for starters- May is always worth reading and he's a prolific poster. Check him out.

Placido Domingo in Berkeley

Angel Joy Blue, Placido Domingo, and Micaela Oeste. Photo from YouTube.

This much is true: Placido Domingo, now in his 70's, still has a gorgeous voice; he's an extremely generous and warm performer who respects his audience; and he remains a riveting presence onstage. During Saturday night's concert at UC Berkeley's Greek Theater, a show that ran for nearly three hours, he proved that over and over again with little, if any, apparent effort on his part. The man is worthy of superlatives.

What's less true is that all of his talent and attributes make for a compelling concert experience. A pleasant, pleasing one? Sure. One worthy of the man's abilities. Not quite. Would it appear churlish to say I expected more? I'll leave that up to you, though I suspect many of you would answer "yes." However, before you do, please re-read that first paragraph. The man is undeniably great, but the concert was a meandering hodgepodge that in the end amounted to the kind of show one might have seen on the Vegas Strip in days gone past- glitzy, professionally staged, and flawlessly executed, but offering little more than an evening's entertainment.

That wouldn't be a bad thing if Domingo didn't have so much more to offer.

Everyone did their part, including the sound engineers who expertly captured a surprising amount of nuance from the singers and the orchestra, in effect bolstering rather than amplifying them (I've never heard an orchestra or opera singers amplified to such pleasing effect). The Berkeley Symphony, under the baton of Eugene Kohn, were for the most part marvelous- crisp and fluid, never overpowering the voices and Kohn never let things sag. There wasn't much nuance, but given the outdoor setting it was probably best not to try. Also excellent were the two sopranos Domingo brought along to share the load- Micaela Oeste and Angel Joy Blue. Filler never sounded or looked this good. All that was missing was a reason to be there beyond the opportunity to hear the man sing. Some would say that's more than enough. I will say when you've got someone as gifted as Domingo in the house, who has done so much for the art of singing, and especially operatic singing, it's not.

Domingo wound his way through some opera (Verdi, Wagner & Giordano), some show tunes, some Zarzuela and some schmaltz ("Besame Mucho"). He shared the limelight generously- everyone was allowed to shine. But I couldn't help but wonder how enchanting the evening could have been had an artistic director been engaged to turn the concert from a polished showcase into a musical journey of revelations and discoveries- about why this singularly talented man has been singing opera for over 50 years;  what's special about the form and his unique contribution to it; to show how some stories are best told with the voice and an orchestra; to illustrate the connections between seemingly unrelated styles, and even to learn something more about the man himself. But ambitions of this nature were absent from the program, leaving the real potential of the massive talent onstage sadly unrealized. That was obviously fine for the majority of the audience, who enjoyed every moment of it under the warm summer sky. Their cheers brought Domingo back for numerous encores, and though each one seemed to yield diminishing returns, he looked like he was having the time of his life. I can't begrudge him that. He's certainly earned it.

The concert was presented by Another Planet in conjunction with Cal Performances.

Opening night at the Symphony, 2013

What's going on here? Marcher and Margarita. Photo by Stephen Lam (SF Chronicle)

I've lived in the Tenderloin for a little over eight years. Eleven years ago I lived on the top of Nob Hill, in a small one-bedroom apartment with a great eastern view of the Financial District and the Bay Bridge. Then I became engaged to a woman from Little Rock, Arkansas so I gave up that apartment and together we rented another, larger one on the opposite side of the hill which had Golden Gate views out of every window including the bathroom. I was told the apartment was once the home of a famous billionaire's ex-wife.

The girl from Little Rock and I parted instead of married, and since it was my decision to do so it was I who had to leave the rooms with the views. I ended up doing something I swore I would never do, which was to move south of California Street, and I took an incredibly fantastic apartment on Geary Street with an oval bedroom, huge windows facing west and south, a lovely and whimsical backyard, and a neighbor who had a baby grand in his apartment from which he filled the air with impeccably nuanced interpretations of Chopin and Rachmaninoff. It was the greatest apartment I had ever lived in, even though it was on the outer edge of the 'Loin.

Then I met the woman from New Orleans, and rolled even further south into an apartment on O'Farrell half the size of my previous place, but with a stunning, 180-degree view of the south side of the City, the tawdry grit of Ellis Street eleven floors beneath me, and the myriad happy sounds of the Tenderloin drifting up to the windows 24 hours a day. The moral of this story is if you like where you live, don't date Southern women, no matter how charming they are- it only leads to an inevitable downward roll into the Tenderloin, and if you're lucky, rehab.

Living in the 'Loin, I always feel extremely conspicuous when I step outside my building into the street wearing a tux. The only upside is that it makes it very easy for a cab to spot me from two blocks away and soon I was in one heading to Margarita's place- which is only slightly more than a mile away but at times feels like twenty. I arrived at 7:00 and she was almost ready. Fifteen minutes later another cab took us to Davies Symphony Hall and soon we were in the Green Room, nibbling at slices of lox and trying to figure out who was who among the packed, buzzing crowd. Many of the faces I recognized, but an equal amount were new to me. Along one wall sat two young people with large plastic badges stating "PRESS" strung over their necks busily typing into laptops without ever looking up. I wondered what they were writing and for whom, but not enough to ask them. I guess the badges were to let others know not to ask them for more champagne, because I didn't see any of the people I know who are actually "press" wearing badges of any kind, except for a small few who chose to display their status by opting not to dress properly for the occasion.

We exited the Green Room to watch the fashion parade taking place in the main lobby. Margarita has an astute eye, and as we discussed the clothes and their wearers, she filled me in on their designers, fabrics, and prices, and I offered what I knew regarding identities, backstories, and dirt. The crowd was noticeably younger this year, and among this group the women made a valiant effort to match the glamour of their elders, some succeeding with unconventional choices which yielded stunning results, others not so much.

I also noticed 3 of my neighbors among the throng, which means that - gasp! - other people from the TL had somehow managed to crash this party, which also means not everyone who attends the opening night gala for the SF Symphony (or the SF Ballet or SF Opera, for that matter) lives in Sea Cliff or Pacific Heights. How did this happen?

I note this only because I was reading the generally class-consciously resentful/nasty/ignorant comments on SFGate that make it seem like these events are only for the very rich and powerful. While it's certainly true that these evenings are designed for and cater to that audience, that's not a bad thing- an incredible amount of money is raised from these folks which in turn supports these organizations, and in this country, the financial support of the rich is a necessity. Without it, these institutions would cease to exist. So stop carping and next year get yourself a relatively inexpensive ticket (they are available), which would cost you much less than a good seat at a 49er's game, and go enjoy the party. And believe me, it is a great party- the drinks are free, the food is good, people are out to have a good time and the entertainment is top notch- before, during, and after the concert. You will have a good time and you can choose to just ignore the fact that the mayor, the Speaker of the House, and the Yahoo woman are there in the room with you- just like they're ignoring your presence. Everybody wins!

After the obligatory singing of our national anthem, the Symphony launched into George Antheil's Jazz Symphony. I've never heard the thing before, which has heavy doses of Stravinsky and American big band thrown together into a big, messy stew, but it came off as something of a hot mess. Whether or not this was by Antheil's design or the orchestra's execution I can't rightly say, but it did give Principal Trumpet Mark Inouye a glorious opportunity to get seriously down and greasy with a mute, and Robin Sutherland also had some fine solos on the piano. Gershwin's An American in Paris mines similar territory with greater effect and substantially more coherence, and the orchestra was more persuasive with it as the finale, but both choices seemed to be programmed more as vehicles to accompany a celebration than for making a case about the importance of the intersection of classical and jazz.

However, these paled compared to singer Audra McDonald's appearances during both halves. Conveying sex appeal and elegance in equal measure in a fantastic dress, McDonald, launching her own national tour with this performance, has a voice better-suited to Broadway than the opera house, and her first set of songs were all by Leonard Bernstein, including a gorgeous version of "Somewhere" from West Side Story and a completely delightful version of "A Hundred Easy Ways to Lose a Man" from Wonderful Town. As good as she was here, she was even better in the second half with "The Music That Makes Me Dance" from Funny Girl and had the entire house singing along with her on "I Could Have Danced All Night" which somehow she made fun rather than schmaltzy. Her banter with Michael Tilson Thomas was natural and easy- they seemed like two old friends having a good time together, especially when MTT tried to mislead her about the composer of one of the songs.

The after-party is always my favorite part of this event and this year was the best, most fun-filled version of it I've attended so far. In the tent next to the hall The Cheeseballs were tearing it up, with everyone dancing pretty much from get-go (they need to work on those vocals for Daft Punk's "Get Lucky), and a DJ performing in between sets. There were tables of delicious food (coldcuts, crab cocktails, and chocolates) scattered along the walls, short lines for drinks, and plenty of room to dance or just sit and watch women approach Willie Brown and have their photo taken with him. Both he and his date seemed to take it all in with good humor.

The DJ in the tent set up on Grove Street was none other than composer/electronica artist/DJ Mason Bates, who was accompanied by a guy (I didn't get his name) on an electric 5 string double bass. Bates' set was alluring, and drew Margarita's attention, and it was only after listening for awhile and then approaching the table we were surprised to discover it was the composer. We ended up talking with him a bit and he was extremely gracious. His music will be paired with Beethoven's in two separate programs this season. I was leaning toward attending the one featuring Alternative Energy, which he performed here with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra when they came to town during the Centennial Season, but after hearing that Liquid Interface, which hasn't been heard here before, is (I'm paraphrasing here) like a waterfall, I'm inclined to want to hear that perhaps as much if not slightly more than the return of the tremendously successful Alternative Energy.

We left around midnight. The party was still going, but we had jobs to be at in the morning. It was easily the best night out I've had in a long time.

The future...

... looks like this.

The best of the rest: a dozen and 1/2 for 2013-14

Khatia Buniatishvili

Here are another dozen and a half shows coming up during the next season from different Bay Area performing arts organizations which should be interesting, listed in chronological order.

The Artist Sessions. Sept. 17
Lara Downes created this series of concerts last year with the intention of present classical music in non-traditional venues and formats to knock down walls and change perceptions about the music and the people who play it. She's succeeding. Each session includes a performance as well as an onstage discussion, resulting in intimate revelations. The second season kicks off at Yoshi's San Francisco location with Gabriel Kahane and Eleni Mandell. Get tickets and more information here.

New Century Chamber Orchestra: Daugherty Perspectives. Sept. 26-29
The New Century Chamber Orchestra opens their season with a program dedicated to the works of composer Michael Daugherty ranging from a solo piece performed by New Century's Director Nadja Salerno Sonnenberg, pieces for various small ensembles, the full chamber orchestra, and one for quartet + tape titled Elvis Everywhere.

Ann Dyer: Vak: Song of Becoming. Sept. 20 & 21
If you are interested in using your own voice, or reclaiming it, this may be for you. Inspired by the ancient Indian goddess Vak, who creates the world through sound vibration, Vak: Song of Becoming calls on ancient yoga philosophies to create an immersive sonic experience. The new work, commissioned by YBCA, comes out of a period in which Dyer withdrew from a successful recording and performing career as a jazz vocalist to explore her personal relationship to voice and self through the study of Indian sound practices. In the piece, Dyer experiments with these ancient principles in a new, contemporary context, creating a monumental work at a new intersection of art and mindfulness. More information can be found here. There are auxiliary events as well.

Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike. Sept 20 through Oct. 20
The 2013 Tony winner for for Best Play opens Berkeley Rep's new season with Christopher Durang's farcical homage to Chekov. Click the link for more information.

West Edge Opera: Vanessa  Sept. 21, 22
West Edge Opera performs Samuel Barber's 1958 Pulitzer-winning opera for only two performances at Berkeley Rep's Thrust Stage. Starring company stalwart Marie Plette, Jonathan Khuner conducts a 30-piece orchestra along with members of Berkeley's Chora Nova. Chances to see this are rare. The theater is an easy walk from the Downtown Berkeley BART station.

David Daniels with the Philharmonia Baroque Orchestra.  Oct 2-6
Perhaps the world's leading countertenor, Daniels joins the orchestra along with soprano Carolyn Samspon, for performances of  rarely heard Handel, Durante and Perlegosi. The concerts take place in three San Francisco, Atherton and Berkeley. I've heard Daniels sing a handful of times and his voice is a truly special instrument. Complete information is here.

ZOFO Duet performs The Rite of Spring and Rachmaninoff's Sonata No. 2 in B-flat minor. Oct 4
Eva-Maria Zimmerman and Keisuke Nakagoshi have their hands in an inordinate amount of the Bay Area's most interesting musical experiences. The twice Grammy-nominated duo has performed around the world and return as part of the alumni concert series to the San Francisco Conservatory of Music. In a perfect world these two would be superstars. Tickets are $20 for the general public.

Blueprint. Oct 5
The San Francisco Conservatory of Music's New Music Ensemble, led by Opera Parallele Music Director Nicole Paiement, starts off their season of adventurous and engaging programming with “Short Stories,” a series of new works inspired by novels, plays and documentaries. Paiement welcomes special guest Tobias Picker, whose Dolores Claiborne premieres at San Francisco Opera this fall. The ensemble also takes on works by David Del Tredici (Dracula), Terry Riley (Y Bolanzero), John Adams (Son of Chamber Symphony) and Ryan Brown (’05), winner of the Conservatory’s Hoefer Prize, given each year to a distinguished alumnus composer. Listeners can meet featured composers (Picker on this evening) at informal pre-concert “tête à tête” events or learn about their work in greater depth at free Friday seminars called “Composers Talk Shop.” Tickets are $20 for the general public.

Cypress Quartet Salons Oct 18-20.
The intrepid and talented Cypress Quartet take the salon concept to three different locations for three different programs, offering exceptional musicianship and challenging rep in intimate settings. The salons take place at the David Brower Center in Berkeley, the Joe Henderson Jazz Lab in the SFJazz Building, and the Women's Club of Palo Alto. The first program features two Beethoven quartets: Op. 74 in E-flat ("Harp") and Op. 59, No. 2 in E-minor, along with Bartok's String Quartet No. 2. Tickets and additional information including information about the rest of the salon series is here.

The Airfield Broadcasts. Oct. 26 & 27
This is why I live in San Francisco. The first of two highly original and mammoth events hitting the Bay Area this fall. Lisa Bielawa (a member of the Phillip Glass Ensemble among other musical endeavors) has created something which probably can't be fully described and if it goes right will be even harder to explain to those who missed it- so don't. Taking place at San Francisco's Crissy Field,it involves more than 800 musicians of every level from professional to amateur including orchestras, bands and experimental music groups spread out among the space. There will be three 60 minute performances, at 10:00 AM and 4:00 PM Saturday, October 26 and 12:00 PM Sunday October 27. Free, and probably once-in-a-lifetime. More information can be found here.

Myra Melford: Language of Dreams. Nov. 8, 9
YBCA presents Myra Melford in the world premiere of the powerful, multi-sensory experience, Language of Dreams. Incorporating music, movement and video imagery, Melford invokes reflection and provokes dialogue about our collective histories and our path forward as “Americans” in the broadest sense, recognizing our diverse cultures and landscapes as well as the tensions and harmonies that define us. This newest work draws its inspiration from the composer’s deep fascination with Genesis, a 1982 novel by Uruguayan author Eduardo Galeano. The novel, a part of the author’s Memory of Fire trilogy, strings together seemingly disjointed bits of text to form a deeply textured picture of life in the Americas in the era before and during European colonization. Tickets are $30. More info here.

Rhys Chatham's A Secret Rose. Nov. 17
Last June I attended a preview for this event at The Lab in San Francisco that blew my skull open in the best possible way, making this the number one performance I am looking forward during the entire season.
Other Minds will present the West Coast Premiere of Rhys Chatham's awe-inspiring work for 100 electric guitars at Richmond's Craneway Pavilion. Led by composer/guitarist Chatham, who's credited with creating a new type of urban music by fusing early 1960s minimalism with the relentless, elemental fury of punk rock, this large-scale performance features an international team of section leaders working in concert with amateur and professional guitarists from all over the Bay Area and beyond. The performance will cover a wide range between minimal rock and roll grooves and hushed, lush ambiance - the sound of 100 guitars playing as quietly as possible. The guitar orchestra will be joined by a local rhythm section featuring Jordan Glenn (drums) and Lisa Mezzacappa (bass). Doors will opens early to allow concertgoers to eat, drink and enjoy the view, with a bar and food trucks on site. I recently found a link with a recording from the June event- check that out here, read the entire press release from Other Minds about the event here, and get tickets here. Do not miss this.

Be Bop Baby. Nov 19-23Narrated through musical vignettes and monologues, Be Bop Baby follows award-winning actor, director and playwright Margo Hall's eccentric and wild times growing up in a house frequented by Detroit musicians, extended family and friends, and colorful neighborhood characters. Be Bob Baby explores strong bond between Hall and her stepfather, strengthened through their mutual love of music, contrasting it with her difficult relationship with her biological father. Bay Area jazz legend Marcus Shelby's original score animates Hall's heartfelt story with jazz, with a touch of Motown and 70s style-soul. Directed by Sheila Balter, the cast includes Hall and Bay Area actors Halili Knox, Dawn Troupe-Masi and Mujahed Abdul-Rashid. The 14-piece Marcus Shelby Jazz Orchestra performs live onstage. At Z Space, tickets here.

La Boheme. Dec 6 & 8
The students of the Opera Program at the San Francisco Conservatory of Music take on Puccini's classic. It's been said "if you don't like Boheme you don't like opera" and I agree. Youthful singers will only make it that much better, and it's free, though reservations required.

Nora Chipaumire: Miriam. February 13 – 15
YBCA presents renowned choreographer and dancer Nora Chipaumire, as the former member of the acclaimed dance troupe Urban Bush Women, creates her first character-driven work, Miriam. The work is a deeply personal and immersive dance-theater installation that reverberates with tensions between public expectations and private desires, between objectification and power, and between darkness and light. The unusual format and staging of the piece invite the audience to bring their senses, memories, hearts, and minds to bear to fully inhabit and comprehend the experience of being an outsider. $25 advance/$30 at the door.

James Ehnes. March 8
Chamber Music San Francisco presents one of today's most highly regarded musicians in a solo recital at the Marine's Memorial Theater. Ehnes will perform Copland's Sonata, Grieg's Sonata No. 2 in G major, Brahms' Sonatensatz and Schubert's Fantasy in C major.

Khatia Buniatishvili. April 12
Even if she wasn't gorgeous, it would still be worth attending Buniatishvili's local solo debut. Last year she brought down the house at Davies performing the 2nd Rachmaninioff Piano Concerto. She'll be performing Liszt's Sonata in B minor, Ravel's La Valse, Chopin's Sonata No. 2, and Stravisnky's Petrushka in this recital presented by Chamber Music San Francisco. I'm very excited.

Opera Parallele April 25-27
Opera Parallèle, the San Francisco Conservatory of Music’s resident professional opera company hasn't released the details about A Surreal Evening with Opera Parallèle at Yerba Buena Center for the Arts, but based on the company's track record, this promises to deliver. For tickets call 415.978.ARTS.

And finally, Led Zeppelin. Sometime in 2014. Yes, this is going to happen. Really.