Andrew von Oeyen Blog

Blog #2: The POST Concert Talk (Part Deux)

2011-07-06T11:50:00.076-04:00

Over the past couple of years a new kind of artist-audience interaction activity has been on the rise: the POST concert talk. I'll never forget the first time I gave a post-concert talk, or "talk back," as it's sometimes called. I had just finished playing the Rachmaninoff Third Piano Concerto and was asked back to the stage after having played my heart out. Of the three performances I gave over the weekend, I was somehow least satisfied with that one and my state of mind was something like "oh don't you talk back to me." My shirt was wet, my energy drained, all sorts of things were running through my head, such as the metallic quality of the instrument, the passages that weren't quite together with the orchestra, and even some of the things that had gone well. What's clear is that I wasn't in the best state to be conducting a talk; but, more importantly, I remember thinking to myself, "haven't I already said enough? After a piece like the Rach 3, which requires such a mustering of energy, emotion, stamina, and everything else, need one say more?" Of course, I had said enough, musically speaking; but, today, music doesn't always have the first or last word at concerts. Even the Metropolitan Opera, in its HD broadcasts, conducts interviews with singers immediately after they have exited the stage for the very same reason: the viewer wants to hear not only the performance but what the artist has to say about the performance. It's American Idol - like, actually. And I get it, I really do. This is our Zeitgeist. But sometimes talk backs can be a bit anticlimactic after a performance -- i.e. Mr. von Oeyen, why did you choose the shorter cadenza instead of the longer one? Did you miss any notes? How did you like collaborating with Maestro Whatchamacallitstovsky? (what can you say when he's standing next to you...).

In all fairness, I must say that talk-back audiences are usually lovely in these settings. In fact, those who decide to stick around post-concert are often the most appreciative in the house and genuinely interested in the music (most people just want to get out of there as soon as the last chord finishes to beat the traffic in the parking structure). They also are a great way to engage certain kinds of audiences, especially young ones, so they definitely have their merits. But I'd like to get YOUR feedback, so check out the poll below.

Stay tuned for Blog #3, which I promise won't be about talking again (it might even be about playing!)

Blog #2: The PRE Concert Talk (Part I)

2011-06-02T13:23:00.050-04:00

"Words, words, words, I'm so sick of words!" -Eliza Doolittle, My Fair Lady

I know it's been a while, and I'm sorry for the delay. A lot has been going on in my life recently, not to mention in the world (my gosh, since I last wrote we've had Tunisian, Egyptian and Libyan revolutions, a catastrophic tsunami, the Royal Wedding, the death of Bin Laden, DSK's arrest, multiple, deadly tornadoes in the U.S., the discovery of the black box of Air France Flight #447, contaminated cucumbers in Europe, to name just a FEW...). Anyway, now I'm home 'nesting,' preparing programs and getting caught up on umpteen domestic affairs (is there a lint filter in my new dryer? Where IS it?). I somehow felt the urge to write again, so here goes attempt #2...

As I mentioned in my last entry, classical musicians are expected to speak more than ever before. It is all part of our milieu of wanting to know more about the person behind the performer -- stage and backstage. Due to this cultural shift, partially caused by and reflected in the internet, there is an expectation that we "speak more and conceal less." Times have changed, the culture has changed, and thus, the roles of musicians have changed. I referenced artists such as Richter and Michelangeli who would probably gripe about all we are doing now to sell tickets, but we are living in a new era with new expectations -- not to mention a less financially stable classical music world-- and, as such, we need to adjust with 'the times that are a-changin.'

It's not that audiences today desire a 'backstage pass' more than ever; it's that we grant one more easily. And along with changing expectations come changing assumptions. For example, there almost seems to be a general acceptance today that the more artists speak about their creative process and offstage life the better we will understand their artistry. But is this really so?

In light of our times, pre-concert talks -- usually incorporating conductor, soloist and moderator -- have become popular these days, especially in America, as a means of bridging the gap between public and performer. I usually participate in them, because a) it's kinda hard to say no b) they help sell more tickets c) I often enjoy doing them. In fact, the pre-concert talk can even break the ice before a concert between performer and audience, which can be a good thing.

But, just as easily as they can 'break the ice' can they break a few other things. Let me try to explain:

•there is often a sense of wonderment in audiences about a piece of music or the performer playing it and, for various reasons, the talking before the performance strips away the mystique and anticipation of the unknown. It's like a magician revealing how he is going to execute a trick before performing it: where is the magic then? Or, an actor, who is about to go on stage and play the villain, blowing kisses to the audience before taking on his menacing and frightening role. Is such an introduction actually beneficial for the audience?

•no amount of talking can do justice to non-programmatic music, unless the music is really bad and the story behind the music is actually more interesting than the music itself (which then raises the question: is such music even worth performing?)

•not every musician is as skilled and eloquent when it comes to talking as Leonard Bernstein. In fact, most of us chose to go into music precisely because we found that it was the best outlet for feelings that no words could ever express ("where words fail, music speaks"). Some of us even, unknowingly, undermine our art through our words.

•a lesser point, though one worthy of mention: performers often have much more on our minds before a concert, such as the concert itself. All sorts of things cross my mind when I do pre-concert talks, such as, "Am I warmed up enough? Will I have time after the talk to get into 'the zone'? No matter how much I entertain the audience with my words, I still need to charm them with my fingers in.....30 minutes! Get me out of here!"

•perhaps the most important point: should an audience first be introduced to the music via words or through the music itself? In other words, should the artist first address his public via his non-musical voice or his musical one?

The above points are more concerns than criticisms, and I certainly don't mean to throw the baby out with the bathwater. As I said, pre-concert talks discussions do have their merits. I also believe they are here to stay a while so, on one level, we might as well get used to them. In the meantime, however, I'd like to propose something to help make the experience better: I suggest we have pre-concert talks / Q&A's be done on non-concert days. Some orchestras do this and I truly appreciate it. Scheduling them on a separate day 1) is better for the artist. He/she gets to talk in a relaxed environment and focus on the talking instead of the playing. 2) makes for a more appropriate introduction of the artist and does not blur the line between artist and artist-as-speaker. Anyway, enough of my rambling. I'd love to get your feedback, so please allow a few seconds to take the poll below (scroll to the bottom).

Finally, a few words about Lady Gaga since I practically omitted her in my last entry: I think she's great! She's a gifted performance artist all around -- music, costume, dance, spectacle. All kinds of people identify with her - the glamorous, the ordinary, the wealthy, the poor, etc.- + I think she's terrific in interviews. Add to that, she has been an outspoken activist championing important social causes and I applaud her for her courage.

Stay tuned for Blog #2: Part Deux -

Blog #1: Musings on culture, blogging, Lady Gaga, Michelangeli...

2011-02-10T18:04:00.956-05:00

I've been pondering the idea of keeping a blog for some time now. To do or not to do? There is a good case to be made for either choice. What's true is that times have changed and, with them, the expectations of classical musicians. We are asked to share more of our extra-musical selves than ever before. The backstage narrative is no longer kept backstage; it has become an integral part of our public image, part and parcel to who we are and how we are known. Today, audiences want to know the whole person, the composite object, the Gesamtkunstlerundseinlebenwerk, if you will. They want classical musicians to come down from their ivory towers and speak to their loyal fans not just about music, but about their favorite reality shows and their impressions of Lady Gaga. The popular quote, "Where words fail, music speaks," might as well be inverted today: "where music fails, words speak [more than ever]." Silence is no longer acceptable. Musicians are encouraged to share as much as possible their non-musical voices as well as musical ones. And maybe this is a good thing? After all, shouldn't society place a value on the whole person as opposed to one part of him -- say, his fingers? Or should we just shut up and play?

Indeed, times have changed, and the bar has been raised for classical musicians. In addition to playing chromatic parallel thirds with ease and navigating through thorny development sections of Schubert sonatas with grace, pianists must also make a case for their music through pre/post concert talks and outreach activities. We are expected to speak articulately, be knowledgeable of other musical genres, and generally more accessible. There's no room left in the biz for the reclusive pianist-savant who dwells only in his practice room and on stage, and there's even less room for the diva. Great pianists of the past, such as Michelangeli or Richter, who notably shunned off-stage interaction with the public, would surely grumble at our newly found responsibilities. But the tide has turned and this is our reality, like it or not.

I like a lot of this. I like that we are expected to be more in touch with our surroundings and to demystify our profession in the effort to generate larger audiences. I'm a fan of educational outreach, and who likes divas anyway, except for the good kind (enter Lady Gaga)? But I don't necessarily like complying with every single dot-com formula to artificially achieve this "accessibility." While performing the onstage-offstage dance was never an easy one, we are now expected to perform online as well. The way in which the internet has enveloped our lives has, in turn, altered our expectations of public figures. Since you can pretty much find out anything about anyone through a quick Google search, we are encouraged to talk more and conceal less than ever before. And why not? So little remains private, anyway. A popular cultural theory is that, due to the abundance of information and general lack of privacy nowadays, we are slowly moving into an era "without shame," since everyone and everything is exposed. We are numb to it all, and we no longer know what to believe. In time, privacy may prove to be the most venerated virtue of all, as it will become an unattainable goal, not a reality.

Call me old-fashioned, but I still like privacy, or at least the idea of it. I also value mystery and ambiguity in the public arena, probably even more now since they've become so elusive. "Doubt can be a bond as powerful and sustaining as certainty," to borrow from playwright John Patrick Shanley. I must admit, while I use Facebook and even enjoy it at times, I am still wary of social networking sites in general. For example, I resent the fine print you must read so as to avoid leaking personal information or inadvertently linking settings and data from one platform to another (to say nothing of what we cannot control, such as third party tracking sites). Probably my biggest gripe with Twitter is the artificial application of it, in addition to the time factor. And just as you've mastered one of these platforms, it's on to the next. I'll never forget when, just hours after launching my web adviser told me, "OK, Andrew. Now time to work on your Facebook artist page." I cried, "What? But I just launched a website! Isn't that enough?!" I resisted for a while, but after constant poking from all sides I finally surrendered to the relentless tentacles of Mark Zuckerberg's brainchild (Facebook bullying: it's out there, and it's strong. I wish Anderson Cooper would host a special on it).

Of course, part of my ambivalence toward the online stuff has been the time factor -- I mean, shouldn't I be practicing instead of tweeting? Don't get me wrong: I love the internet and, like most of us, I'm practically addicted to it (especially via my iPhone), but for all of its virtues, I spend a lot of aimless time staying up late watching YouTube videos of dogs barking at their own reflections or toddlers reciting whole books of the Bible, or looking up single entries on Wikipedia only to find myself, over the course of several hours, to have hyperlinked from tomato - to pasta sauce - to Italy - to Milan - to supermodel - to cinema - to Scientology -- until somehow I'm back where I started - shower curtain rings - and then I pass out. For better or for worse, the cyberworld has consumed us, and I, for one, have made a pact with myself to proceed with caution, if only for the sake of sleep (I saw a story on CNN recently of a mother who confiscated her teenage daughter's cell phone, TV and laptop for 6 months and her daughter finally slept 8 hours every night. Go mom!).

Anyway, back to blogging. Why? I'm not totally sure. But I'm kind of enjoying it so far, perhaps because I rarely write anything other than emails? Or maybe because I never kept a journal? It's nice to brush up on my writing skills again (no comments, please)...but my fingers certainly don't need the extra exercise...and if the purpose were to gain lots of followers, well, I'd be tweeting, of course! Time will tell. For now, it's nice to be sharing my non-musical voice, the mind behind the fingers, more of the composite object, the Gesamtandrewvonoeyenwerk, if you really will. Someone once told me in a sagacious-sounding voice, "Andrew, you are more than a pianist." OK...I'll just shut up and go practice now!

Check out the below cartoon from the Feb. 7 New Yorker: