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 Sunday, May 9, 2004
Bach in Marin

Mindful of Pete's observation that real bloggers report on events they attend, I feel I ought to say something about the Bach B Minor Mass that Karen and I heard tonight.

The concert was at the College of Marin, featuring CoM's community chorus. Karen used to sing with that group, so she knows a lot of the people. It was the final performance for chorus director Stan Kraczek, who is retiring after 30 years. (Earlier this year we had stumbled upon a similar farewell concert for the retiring director of a community chorus in Shoreline (the city just north of Seattle). That one was Mendelssohn's Elijah.)

The B Minor Mass was the first piece I sang in California. That was in 1987, my first year with Oakland Symphony Chorus. It was the last year with OSC for Dan Stanley, who was the tenor soloist tonight and who looks like he's aged about three years since then. He could easily pass for 33 now, but if that were his true age, he'd have to have been a teenager then, which he wasn't. Dan was in the chorus for OSC's B Minor, but a few months later he sang the tenor solos in a Messiah, where his flowery and abundant ornaments for "Comfort Ye" are still the prettiest I've ever heard.

Undisputed star of the show was the concertmaster, who played gorgeously and was a joy to listen to in all his solos. I liked him better than I ever liked Raymond Kobler when he was concertmaster at SF Symphony, though that's not saying much. I have to resist the urge to critique too much, since that always gets me in trouble, so for the rest of the cast, let's just say that with the possible exception of a handful of individuals in the orchestra, no one was performing at the level of standards I'm used to. But they were good enough that the music was recognizable as Bach's, and that's all it takes to make me happy.

Like Dan Stanley, my opinions of the B Minor Mass have changed very little since I first encountered it 17 years ago. I still hate those wretched Kyries. With Brothers Karamazov, you have to slog through 100 pages of boredom before you get to the good stuff, but once you reach that peak and all the fun begins, you have to admit that you wouldn't appreciate it nearly as much without the necessary exposition.

But at the corresponding point in the Bach, I admit no so such thing. Instead, I think what a shame it is that no one has the guts to cut everything before this point and just start with the Gloria. Or if you must, keep that short little one-page, prelude-like bit of the first Kyrie, and then jump to the Gloria. What would be lost? It would start the evening with a bounce, and it would cut about 15 minutes from the program, so that you're still alert enough to stay awake during the Sanctus.

I used to let people tell me that Bach is a perfect genius and if I don't like something he wrote I must just not understand. Well, I'm an old curmudgeon now. I've known this piece for 17 years, and the Kyries are still dreary as hell. The first one has an ugly theme, and it drags on and on interminably. Then when you think you're rid of it, and the women soloists sing that pleasant but unremarkable duet, he comes back with another Kyrie. Mercifully, this one is not quite as long, but the theme is even uglier!

But the rest of the choruses are terrific. (Funny that the choruses are so much better than the solos in this one. Not the case in Bach's Magnificat.) I love the Gloria and its Et in Terra Pax. I love the Et Incarnatus and that wonderfully crunchy Crucifixus -- the one piece that the chorus performed well tonight. I love the Et Resurrexit with its goofy little interlude for the chorus basses. I always enjoyed singing along with that and then making the two-octave-plus leap from the last bass note to the high tenor entrance of "cujus regni". Best of all, I love the Gratias Agimus, and I love that Bach -- like Puccini -- is not too proud to reprise his best tune for the finale.

Viola Joke

The small orchestra was squashed into the apron before the huge chorus. All the strings were to the conductor's left and everyone else was to his right. The strings were 4-4-2-2-1, plus 2 flute, 2 oboe, 2 bassoon, 1 horn, 3(!) trumpet, timpani and electronic organ. It wasn't until about halfway through the program that I realized the two violas were seated at the far left, way in the back as if they were the fifth desk of violins. I'm not sure what I would have suggested instead, given the space available, but that still seemed like an odd place to put them. Perhaps it was decided democratically?

I would have thought this too arcane to mention, but Karen observed the same thing, so maybe it really is noteworthy: In the Cum Sancto Spiritu, where the theme goes, "cum sancto spi-i-i-ri-tu in glo o-o-o O-O-O, o o-o-o O-O-O-", etc., the chorus sang the slow "O-O-O" molto staccato. It must have been intentional, since they wouldn't have all done it like that by accident. I thought that a very strange interpretation. The other conductors I've done the piece with make a point of making those molto legato, to contrast all the other staccato in the number.

The program -- the printed booklet, I mean -- was surprisingly attractive. Usually for a concert at this level of professionalism the program looks like shit, but this one was nicely designed and laid out. The font was some new humanist face that I don't recognize. It's vaguely reminiscent of Verdana, but with a bigger contrast of width between the round letters and the skinny ones. Sort of like a Futura with a big x-height.

Names of the orchestra players were inexplicably omitted from the program, which is why I didn't name the concertmaster. I recognized the first bassoonist, a veteran journeyman who plays seemingly everywhere in the Bay Area. (There's no need to say her name because you probably don't know her, and in the unlikely event that you do, you've probably already guessed whom I'm talking about.) In the first half she was the only one who didn't stand when all the others in the orchestra did. At the curtain call at the end, when the orchestra players stood, I checked to see if she would get up ... but she had already left the stage! Maybe she had another gig in the next town.

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