An orchestra and a church

Soundtrack to "Amadeus"; Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, composer; Academy of St. Martin In The Fields; Sir Neville Marriner, conducting

During the summer of 2001, my friend Chad H. and I took a two week trip to Scotland, England and France. Having been to London many times before, but on someone else’s time table, I relished the freedom to visit places of appeal and significance for as long we wanted. Friends and interested parties had provided me with several places to visit, most of which I had already gone to see. But one recommendation started with, “If you’re looking to save some money…” They had my attention.

Apparently, the Crypt café, beneath the St.-Martin-In-The-Fields Church near Trafalgar Square in London, serves up some of the least expensive fare in the city. So I jotted it down on our itinerary. May I tell you? Not only are their food selections not expensive, they’re spectacular. We ended up going there three times, just to save on food funds.

You, dear reader, probably recognize the name of the church. It is, indeed, the home of the famous Academy of St. Martin In the Fields Orchestra. Under the baton of Sir Neville Mariner, this chamber orchestra provided the beautiful, impassioned and “spot on” soundtrack for the 1984 Academy Award-winning motion picture “Amadeus”. This soundtrack reached No. 56 on the Billboard Hot 100, making it one of the most popular recordings of classical music ever. With the exception of an early 18^th century gypsy tune and a portion of the Stabat Mater by Giovanni Pergolesi, every piece comes from the elegant pen of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.

St. Martin of Tours, France, provided the name for the classically styled rectangular church in the middle of London. Only God knows when parishioners first started worshipping in this place. The earliest existing document that makes reference to the church comes from 1222 when a dispute broke out between the Abbot of Westminster and the Bishop of London over who had control over it. Almost three hundred years later, King Henry VIII had the church rebuilt. At that time, the church was literally “in the fields”, isolated between the quite small cities of Westminster and London.

I started college in August of 1984. In those last five or six weeks as I headed into my transition period from farmboy to egghead, I made sure to see all of the movies that I intended to, figuring that I wouldn’t have the time to see them after classes started. Not a single “Amadeus” trailer did I see at the movies; not even on TV. Nobody, not even my Music Major peers, made me aware of this upcoming biopic that wasn’t a biopic. It took my roommate M., courteously inquiring if I’d like to go with him to see this movie – AFTER IT CAME OUT!! – to find out that an “Amadeus” movie existed.

Finally, after marching band rehearsal one Friday, some friends and I went to see the film. About a third of the way through, however, the movie took a weird turn and we couldn’t figure out what was going on. About two thirds of the way through the film, the theatre manager stopped the movie, brought up the lights, and came in to tell us that the man in charge of changing the reels had accidentally shown them out of sequence: one, two, four, three, five was how we were seeing them. The manager kindly offered us tickets to see it the next night. I didn’t have time to see it the next night. And the next night, it had gone.

I liked it, anyway. I looked forward to its release on VHS so that I could watch it in the proper order. The movie falls, I would suppose, under the category of “Historical Fiction.” Sig. Salieri and Herr Mozart didn’t have the relationship as illustrated in the movie. But the “powers what be” had researched the historical period aspects of their subject so thoroughly that I honor this film more highly for the cultural truths they depicted. Beyond that, they’re just a bunch of dirty, rotten liars.

Credits: To St. Martin of Tours, for seeing the visage of Christ in the face of a homeless beggar. Thank you for lending your name to Herr Luther.

Collaboration

Gershwin Fantasy; George Gershwin, composer; London Symphony Orchestra; John Williams, arranger and conducting; Joshua Bell, violin

I have enjoyed following the career of master violinist Joshua Bell. Though a couple of years younger, he comes from my generation. I remember seeing him perform on the Tonight Show in the early 1980’s. In addition to outstanding technical and musical instincts beyond his, what, thirteen or fourteen years, he exuded outstanding stage presence, this incredible ability to present and control the scene, the visual look, aura, the musical climate as the audience would see it. All aspects of his performance on the TV in our living room in South Dakota left a first impression of monumental proportions.

At some point, Mr. Bell broke through the barrier – barriers? – that divide(s) prodigy and respected world-class artist. It must take more than just stubbornness, drive and nerve to arrive on the other side with as much heart, spirit, verve and zest as this gentleman exudes.

I bought “Gershwin Fantasy” at a CD store at Union Station in St. Louis, Missouri. Many years ago, I made it a point to acquire all CD’s in the Joshua Bell discography. But, I knew immediately that this one would stand out from the others. All selections on this album featured the arranging and conducting talents of none other than John Williams. Two favorite music icons together on one project. I could hardly wait to get back to the Delta Queen to absorb the brilliance created by these two musical marvels.

In August of 1998, after bringing home Nelson, my Dodge Durango, I took Mom for her first ride on a warm late afternoon - in air-conditioned comfort. She had to go to the church in town to finish printing the bulletins for Sunday morning. While she worked in her office, Pastor H. happened to drive up … and began admiring the shiny new vehicle next to his. He began to ask questions. “Four wheel drive?” Yup. “Eight cylinder?” Uh-huh. “Third seat?” Yes. “Tow package?” I’m ready to hook up to your boat as we speak. “Well, this is marvelous.”

Then he looked at me – squinted, really. “Is there something else you want to show me?” Get in. I turned on the stereo …

And Nelson turned into a shimmering concert hall. Tonight, on our stage, the London Symphony Orchestra, John Williams conducting, and our soloist, Joshua Bell, playing the very best of George Gershwin. For twenty minutes and twenty-four seconds we juiced on the collaboration of three wizards as they streamlined us through memorable and stirring scenes from Mr. Gershwin’s masterpiece “Porgy and Bess”. "My Man's Gone Now", "I Loves You, Porgy", "Bess, You Is My Women Now", "D'eres A Boat That's Leavin' Soon For New York", "Summertime", "I've Got Plenty Of Nuttin'", "It Ain't Necessarily So" and "Oh, Lawd, I'm On My Way" ... one by one, they amalgamated within the confines of my dear Nelson. And when the spectacle concluded …

The birds, the trees, the gravel, the grass, the sidewalk and the old church bell returned to our purview. Pastor H. looked at me and paid the ultimate, the superlative upper Midwest Scandinavian compliment. “Uff-da, my”.

Credits: To Johnny Carson, for bringing excellence of all kinds to his stage. Including yourself, Mr. Carson. You were one class act.

Banjos and Spears

Tales From The Acoustic Planet; Bela Fleck

In the fall of 1994, on board the Star Odyssey, a faction of loyal listeners from WOR Radio in New York City, a CBS radio affiliate, descended upon our vessel for a cruise through the Panama Canal. They brought with them several radio personalities including Charles Osgood of “CBS Sunday Morning” and “The Osgood Files” fame.

After the evening’s entertainment in the Odyssey Show Lounge on the second day of the cruise, I felt a tap on my shoulder as I was putting my music away. I turned around to see a familiar, smiling man extending the hand of friendship. “Hello, Erik. My name is Charles Osgood and I love your band.” Why, thank you, Mr. Osgood. Of course, I know who you are. Welcome aboard. “Well, thank you. Listen, I brought my banjo along on the cruise. I hope that doesn’t scare you.” No, Mr. Osgood, I’ve dealt with banjo players before. Just keep me out of your “Deliverance” battle and we’ll be just fine. “I was hoping that you and I could lead a sing-along some time during the cruise. Does that scare you?” No, sir. Let’s do it.

I gave him the phone number to my stateroom so that he could contact me. The next day, Mr. Osgood appeared on the receiving end of my stateroom telephone. “Hello, Erik. This is Charlie Osgood. Let’s meet in the foyer outside the Odyssey Show Lounge at 1:30 this afternoon, shall we?” Sounds good. I’ll see you then.

We had an entertainer on board named Jim Coston who played the banjo. Mr. Osgood had corralled him as well. The three of us started with “Way Down Upon The Swanee River” and when we finished the song, ten people stood nearby, ready to sing along. Then we played “I’m Gonna Buy A Paper Doll” with twenty-five more people chiming in. After “Good Night, Irene”, we had fifty people. And after “I Want A Girl Just Like The Girl That Married Dear Old Dad”, more than one hundred and fifty cruisers had gathered, crammed really, around the piano. We played and sang for about ninety glorious minutes and polished off forty or fifty tunes … with our sing-alongers joining us every step of the way.

Bela Anton Leos Fleck was born in New York City. His parents named him after Hungarian composer Bela Bartok, and Czech composers Anton Dvorak and Leos Janacek. With a name like that, you really don’t stand a chance. Sooner or later you’re going to end up with an instrument in your hands.

Bela Fleck, as he is known, heard the theme to “The Beverly Hillbillies", as played by Earl Scruggs, and instantly began a love affair with the banjo, receiving one from his grandfather when Bela turned fifteen. Though proficient on many musical instruments, he grew increasingly skilled both technically and innovatively as a master banjo player.

Fortunately for us all, Mr. Fleck didn’t stay on the island of Banjo Music. He has island-hopped to many different styles and has brought his banjo with him. He likes classical, jazz, rock, country, blues, bluegrass and pop. In fact, in the history of the Grammy awards, no other musician has been nominated in more categories. He has secured his place as Mr. Crossover by virtue of his artful performances with Chick Corea, Joshua Bell, the Dave Matthews Band, Edgar Meyer, Bruce Hornsby, McCoy Tyner and the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, just to name a few.

About a year after I purchased this album I happened to see Charles Osgood tour a banjo factory with Bela Fleck on “CBS Sunday Morning”. In one fell swoop, this chance TV broadcast brought home to roost both my respect for the musicianship and ingenuity of Mr. Bela Fleck and the delightful afternoon I spent with Mr. Charles Osgood sharing the joy and warmth of a friendly sing-along with the hearts of a gracious and grateful “Shine On Harvest Moon” bunch. In a way, Mr. Fleck, Mr. Osgood and I came to a full circle.

Pastor M., this evening at EveningSong service, talked about Thomas, doubting Thomas, who missed the first post-resurrection appearance of Jesus with the disciples. “Unless I see in his hands the mark of the nails, and place my finger into the mark of the nails, and place my hand into his side, I will never believe,” he said. “Put your finger here,” Jesus said to Thomas eight days later, “and see my hands; and put out your hand, and place it in my side.”

History tells us that Thomas took his ministry of Christ to India where he started several Christian churches. Thomas met his end, however, when one local citizen, who neither liked nor wanted the story of Christ brought to this part of the world, killed him with a spear. This brought to a full circle the placing of Thomas’ hand in the spot where the Lord received the wound of a spear, and then Thomas receiving a mortal blow, himself, with a spear.

Now isn’t this weird? My banjo and spear analogies usually end a little differently. Today’s analogy has a happier ending for the banjo player.

Credits: To the inventor of the banjo. If it weren’t for you, there’d be no Eddie Peabody, Roy Clark, Jim Coston, Peter Mezoian, Earl Scruggs and Bela Fleck. And Charles Osgood might have taken up the accordian. Yeeeach.

Cows

Ella & Her Fellas; Ella Fitzgerald

When my sister D. asked her daughter M. what kind of birthday party she wanted when she turned four, she got an answer for the ages. “I want a cow party.” That’s my girl!!

What’s a cow party, you ask? What’s the matter with you? At a cow party, the birthday girl gets stuffed cow dolls and everyone eats cake with a picture of a cow on the frosting. Do I have to explain everything?

I think of M. and her cow party whenever I hear Ella Fitzgerald sing the “Cow-Cow Boogie”. She recorded it with the Ink Spots in 1944. This compilation CD features Miss Ella in cahoots with some of music’s finest fellers: Louis Armstrong, Louis Jordan, the Mills Brothers, the Delta Rhythm Boys and Chick Webb with his original recording of Ella scattin’ on “A-Tisket, A-Tasket”.

Do you know how long it took me to find a stuffed cow doll? Three days. You would think, in South Dakota, that you could find ‘em free ranging in toy stores all over the state. Not so much.

Credits: To the Ink Spots, for “If I Didn’t Care” and “Java Jive”. Every successful vocal group should have two cats named “Hoppy” and “Deek”.

Ladies and Gentlemen, my blog is half-way finished. Only 182 days to go.

Another Enya CD

Shepherd Moons; Enya

I informed you, dear reader, some weeks back, in the middle of a tirade, that I actually have two Enya CD’s. I purchased “Shepherd Moons” in Dublin, Ireland, to mark the occasion of my visit. Enya makes her home Manderlay Castle in Killiney, County Dublin.

I have no story to tell. However, I’m fascinated, and delighted, with the inclusion of the song “How Can I Keep From Singing?” on this album; known to many Christians as “My Life Flows On in Endless Song”. The refrain is quite powerful

No storm can shake my inmost calm

While to the Rock I’m clinging.

Since Christ is Lord of heaven and earth,

How can I keep from singing?

Ms. Enya takes a few liberties with the melody and the words. She chooses not to sing about Christ, proclaiming instead:

Since Love is Lord of heaven and earth…

She finds different verses to sing than the verses I have in my Lutheran hymnal.

The one time that I went to Dublin, my friends and I found a restaurant called the Bad Ass café. A sign outside the front had a picture of the back end of a donkey getting slapped, or spanked, as if it had been bad.

Okay, I’m sorry, I guess there was one story.

Credits: To Robert Lowry, for composing “How Can I Keep From Singing?” and “Shall We Gather At The River”. You’re a master hymn tunesmith, Mr. Lowry. Thank you.

My first real chamber music

Johannes Brahms, composer; Piano Trio No. 1 in B Major; Charles Ives, composer; Piano Trio; Trio Fontenay

During my first year at CCM (University of Cincinnati College-Conservatory of Music), I joined a violinist and a cellist, D. and W., for a romp through W.A. Mozart’s Piano Trio in G, K.564. Jack Kirstein, cellist in the La Salle Quartet, quartet-in-residence at CCM, served as our coach. I had hoped to play something big like a Rachmaninoff piano trio or the Ravel piano trio. Mr. Kirstein asked me, “How much chamber music have you played, young man”. None. “None?” Sorry. “Oy gevalt! Rachmaninoff? Ravel? They’ll eat you alive. Let’s set you guys up with something a little less dangerous.”

Mozart certainly did the trick. D., W. and I loved our rehearsals and our coachings with Mr. Kirstein. He taught us how to listen to each other and helped us create our own distinct style by corralling the very best of what each of us could contribute to the ensemble.

I found this recording of Brahms’ Piano Trio No. in B Major in a bargain bin at a huge CD shop in Amsterdam. Oddly enough, I bought it for the Charles Ives piano trio, remembering from Music Literature V the brilliance and humor that Mr. Ives brings to the ears of his audience. But the infectious pomp and regal pageantry of the first movement of Herr Brahms’ trio attains a higher status of popularity on my iPod.

The first time we left Mr. Kirstein’s office, D. looked at me and whispered, “Watch this.” She flashed a grin at seventy-year-old Mr. Kirstein and said, “Hang loose, man”. And, without missing a beat, he smiled at her and said, “Catch you on the flip side, baby.”

Credits: To Mr. Charles Ives, for matchless and peerless musical ingenuity. You stretch our ears, sir.

I'm happy together.

Happy Together; The Turtles

Remember that gig where the client had asked for a few songs from the 1960’s? I had downloaded a few high-profile 1960’s tracks onto my iPod to learn for the gig. This is one of them.

“Happy Together”, sung by The Turtles, arrived on the scene in spring of 1967. It knocked The Beatles’ “Penny Lane” out of the number one spot on the Billboard Hot 100, and stayed there for three weeks. Although a few more of their songs made it onto the Billboard, only “Happy Together” made it all the way to the top.

Many:

Movie directors have included this song on their film sountrack.

Television show episodes have made reference to this song.

Television commercials have built their ads around this song.

Musical artists like Donny Osmond, The Captain and Tennille, The Nylons and Blue Meanies, have recorded their own version of the song.

BMI, a US performing rights organization, named The Turtles’ recording of “Happy Together” as the forty-fourth most performed song during 20^th century American radio airplay, siting five million performances. This puts it in the same league as “Yesterday” by the Beatles and “Mrs. Robinson” by Simon and Garfunkel.

All musical aspects of this song make it one for the ages. The composer put together a fine work. I’ve said before that I rarely take notice of lyrics. But the distinct and remarkable rhythmic sequence in the opening measures of the melody brought the words to my attention. And … Oh, my.

You know, I don’t think that I have ever seen a more selfish, one-sided love song. It starts from the top:

Imagine me and you…

Didn’t we learn from our teachers that we refer to ourselves last? If one sang about his or her love for someone else, wouldn’t he or she start with the one that he or she loves?

If I should call you up, invest a dime

And you say you belong to me and ease my mind…

And how ‘bout these:

I can’t see me lovin’ nobody but you…

When you’re with me, baby, the skies’ll be blue…

The only one for me is you…

Boy, I tell you, how nice for him, huh? I mean, the only consideration he, presumably he, gives to her is that he asks her to imagine him and her. Actually, he tells her to imagine him and her.

It’s a nice song, though.

By the way, How is the weather?

My wallet is leather.

I want to see Heather.

My cap has a feather.

Credits: To The Beatles, for “Penny Lane” and “Yesterday”. Great tunes, boys.