GARDEN MUSIC FESTIVAL
The notes of bassoon and clarinet were already floating over the trees when we arrived at the entrance of Fairchild Tropical Botanic Garden. Coralie and I had purchased subscription tickets for the second season of the Garden Music Festival, and were looking forward to a diverse program for the opening concert. We were not to be disappointed.
{GARDEN MUSIC FESTIVAL}
All links are to recordings from the concerts, posted by the Sixth Floor Trio on their YouTube channel. It was great reliving all the best moments from the festival.
You can now view recordings from the concerts as single videos. You are welcome to bypass my trifling comments and get right to the good stuff!
Concert for Kids {and part 2}
A Jazzy Night
{OPENING NIGHT CONCERT}
We caught the closing of the pre-concert concert given by the Festival’s artistic directors, the Sixth Floor Trio. The young men would be performing throughout the next weeks, together with resident musicians from around the world.
Teddy Abrams was the dynamic master of ceremonies. His claim that he had brought together some of the finest if not the finest musicians I almost dismissed as a typical exaggeration. {You can’t throw a brick at any concert stage without crippling a finest musician.} But both Coralie and I were convinced well before the last of the four concerts.
The evening’s program began with two original compositions by members of the Sixth Floor Trio: the world premier of ‘I Sing’ by Harrison Hollingsworth, and ‘Rock’ by Teddy Abrams, which combined ideas from the classical and rock music paradigms.
The second piece introduced us to the Trio’s unique collaboration with Miami artist Augustina Woodgate. Go-Pro cameras projected onto the tent ceiling gave audience members the fascinating and sometimes dizzying perspective of musicians onstage.
‘This may be the only concert you need Dramamine,’ I joked, trying to soothe the lady beside me while she complained of motion sickness from the ‘psychedelic’ projections.
Violinist Lily Francis—who would become a favorite of Coralie and I—introduced her own contribution to the evening’s program, a piece that inspired her love for chamber music. The opening allegro movement of Franz Schubert’s String Quartet No. 14 in D Minor, ‘Death and the Maiden’ was both sweet and haunting.
Next on the program was another original composition, ‘Treffpunkt 7’ by Johannes Dickbauer, followed by Abrams’s arrangement of ‘Hopeless Wanderer’ by Mumford and Sons.
We were then introduced to fiddler Jeremy Kittel, a festival favorite. The Garden Music Ensemble took the stage to perform the world premiers of two of his compositions: ‘Fields of Brooklyn’ and a delightful jig called ‘The Cassel Light.’
Jeremy Kittel’s fiddle continued to shine onstage, supported by the Sixth Floor Trio for ‘Lay My Burden Down’ and ‘Chinquapin Hunting.’
After the intermission, pianist Julio Elizalde introduced the first movement from Béla Bartók’s second rhapsody, which he then performed with Francis.
Gal Nyska then took the stage alone to play the gigue from Bach’s mesmerizingly beautiful Cello Suite in G major.
Elizalde returned to introduce two pieces that would highlight both the delicate and the menacing insects found in the Fairchild Garden. Grieg’s ethereal ‘Butterfly’ was followed by the swirling notes of ‘Flight of the Bumble Bee’ by Rimsky-Korsakov. Coralie and I were pleased to find the latter on the program, since it has something of a family history.
Continuing on the theme of garden life, Sebastien Chang performed the world premier of his composition ‘Hummingbirds,’ together with Teyssier and Deans.
The evening closed with the fourth movement of Brahms’s Piano Quartet No. 1 in G minor, and left us eager for the rest of the festival.
{STORIES TOLD THROUGH MUSIC}
On the evening of the second concert, we sat down in time to hear Q&A with Dr. Ford Lallerstedt, professor at the Curtis Institute of Music, who had just delivered a brief pre-concert lecture on universal principles of music: ‘Always the same, but never in the same way.’
The connection between language and music was a fitting introduction to a program called ‘Stories Told Through Music.’ Abrams spoke of the powerful ability music has not only to communicate simple narratives, but feelings and ideas.
The lovely Sarah Shafer dominated the stage for the first part of the concert. She began with ‘On this Island,’ a delightful love-song by Benjamin Britten: ‘Let the florid music praise... Beauty’s conquest of your face.’
After Teddy Abrams’s introduction to the concert, Ms. Shafer returned to sing the plaintive ‘Lascia Ch’io Pianga’ by George Handel: ‘Let me weep my cruel fate, and sigh for liberty.’ I love Handel.
The next song, by Claude Debussy, was ‘Paysages Belges. chevaux de bois,’ translated ‘Belgian Landscape: Wooden Horses.’ This song paints an evocative picture of a young boy spending Sunday afternoon with his hobbyhorses: ‘Go round, go round, good horses of wood... without ever the need to use spurs.’
‘Gretchen am Spinnrade’ by Franz Schubert was a heartbreaking song of love lost to death: ‘My peace is gone, my heart is heavy... the whole world is bitter to me.’
Four hands on the piano played ‘Russian Dance’ from Igor Stravinsky’s Petrushka.
This was followed by the famous Dance of the Seven Veils by Richard Strauss. {You can also see the GoPro versions for piano or percussion.} I’d heard of the piece, but don’t remember actually hearing it. I was surprised not to find it more exotic. Maybe I was just missing the dancer? Anyway, it was interesting to watch Hollingsworth change instruments several times during this performance.
Abrams introduced the conflicting political interpretations that might be made listening to the tempestuous third movement of the Quartet No. 3 in F major by Dmitri Shostakovich.
I will betray my ignorance and say that I’d never heard of the Pulitzer prize-winning composer John Adams, and wondered if our former President had composed. A few notes into John’s Book of Alleged Dances and I knew this was not a product of the eighteenth century! Dickbauer, Francis, Deans and Nyska performed four movements of this rarely performed suite ‘for string quartet and tape’: ‘Toot Nipple,’ ‘Dogjam,’ ‘Rag the Bone’ and ‘Judah to Ocean.’
Coralie and I had been looking forward to the promised fiddle tunes; Jeremy Kittel and friends would dominate the final third of the concert {and part 2} with music inspired by the American folk tradition.
‘Hangman’s Reel’ had been listed on the program but Kittel had decided ‘that would not be a good idea.’ Instead, we heard ‘Appalachian Volska’ and the ‘Fox-hunter’s Reel,’ followed by Niel Gow’s ‘Lament for the Death of His Second Wife.’ {Kittel cuts out part of that title when he performs it at weddings.}
We were treated next to to a world premier. Kittel and Kowart had collaborated on a composition for the concert, called simply ‘Short Piece for Violin and Bass.’ We loved it!
Pinkham joined them again for ‘Shoot the Moon’ by Mike Marshall. Then Sarah Safer joined them to sing an Alison Krauss song, ‘Take Me for Longing’ by Mark Simos: ‘If your heart settles on me, I’m for the taking. Take me for longing or leave me behind.’
Teyssier joined the others for a traditional Scottish song whose title—‘Ca’ the Yowes’— inspired some question on ewes and hills.
‘The final grand hurrah’ was a rousing performance of the traditional tune ‘Salt Creek,’ which had the audience clapping, hollering and laughing. {You can also see the GoPro versions for clarinet or violin.}
The ensemble bowed to another standing ovation, and there was excited chatter among the audience as they streamed out of the garden. We learned at the next concert that they sold out of Kittel’s albums.
{THE EDGE}
Coralie and I were able to arrive earlier than usual, and were delighted to be in time for a pre-concert recital by Sarah Shafer. We also got to sit at the other side of the tent, which afforded an interesting new perspective. On this side, we could hear ‘backstage’ talk which was delightfully similar to the kind that takes place before one of our dramatic performances: ‘Are we ready?’ ‘Okay. Go ahead.’ ‘You go first.’
The evening’s concert opened with a bang. Gabriel Globus-Hoenich beat drums and welcomed us all: ‘Bem-vindo todo mundo.’ Other ensemble members joined with other percussion instruments for ‘Afro-Brazilian Drumming’—the edge of musical history.
The beautiful Unmeasured Prelude by François Couperin was an example of composition that passed the edge of convention. Proving himself years ahead of his time, Couperin made the daring decision to leave out bar lines in this composition. Abrams’s comparison of bar lines to commas and periods was very helpful for this musically illiterate grammar freak.
If I could be content with the music of a single composer, it would certainly be that of Johannes Bach. A rare performance of ‘Ricercare a 6’ from The Musical Offering was a reminder of why that is so.
String quartets are among my favorite genres; there is something so magical about that combination of two violins, a cello and a viola. I so enjoyed the performance of the allegro movement from Beethoven’s String Quartet No 14. {What do you know. You can even spot Coralie and I in the audience.}
Teddy Abrams introduced the next edge: that of a performer’s virtuosity—performers like pianist Franz Liszt, who was regularly attacked by adoring women. Abrams suggested that Garden Music was an effort to return this ‘happy fate’ to classical musicians. I did not volunteer to storm the stage, however!
Edward Elgar is a favorite composer of mine; Dickbauer and Abrams’s performance of La Capriceuse {and part 2} was a joy.
Julio Elizalde performed for us the lively presto movement from Fantasie by Felix Mendelssohn {and part 2}.
Sarah Shafer graced the stage once more to sing a plaintive love song, ‘Languisce al fin’ from Carlo Gesualdo’s Fifth Book of Madrigals. ‘My sweetest love, I am leaving you, and my cruel fate is such that I must part from life and die.’
I was looking forward to the improvisations, as there is nothing quite like music spun from the inspiration of the moment. ‘Soulcatchers’ and ‘Glyphs’ was played to slides of artwork by Michelle Oka Doner. {Her ‘soul-catchers’—hanging lanterns eerily like animal skulls—had lit our way to the concert tent that evening.} The unexpected transition between pieces—Abrams sprinting offstage and Sebastien Chang replacing him on the piano bench, unseen at first in the darkness—was a bit startling. There was slight laughter.
Next was the first movement from Alan Berg’s Lyric Suite for String Quartet, followed by ‘How to Pray’ by David Lang, a very atmospheric piece with interesting structure. I wish I could remember the details of Abrams’s introduction to a piece I found very unusual but intriguing.
The evening’s program closed with the world premier of a composition by composer in residence, Sebastien Chang—‘Decet.’ As its name suggests, there were a lot of people on stage for this one!
{A JAZZY NIGHT}
The lady at front remembered us and said, ‘I’m so glad you’ve come to every concert.’ ‘So are we,’ I replied. ‘We’re so sad this is the last one!’ ‘It will be an extra long one, though,’ she promised.
Coralie and I had been sure to arrive early for the Sunday evening concert {Dean and I had rushed home from a Chopin concert that afternoon}, and even then the tent was already half crowded. Still, we got front seats on the right side, and despite threatened trampling did very well for ourselves.
We had arrived in time for the pre-concert given by top students of the Miami Music Project. They began with a performance of one of my favorite Piazzola tangos— ‘Libertango’—and then joined the Sixth Floor Trio for a piece called ‘Elasticity.’
There was still a quarter hour till the concert. Coralie and I had only managed a few bites at the dinner table, so we took this opportunity to nibble hungrily at fruit cake and a date bar respectively.
And then the concert began; behind us, in the dusk of the garden came ringing the clear notes of trumpet and trombone playing ‘When the Saints Go Marching In.’ The audience craned their necks and began clapping the rhythm as the two musicians wound their way to the front of the stage with a flourish of brass.
The rhythmic clapping broke into applause, and continued as the Garden Music ensemble ascended the stage. Coralie and I knew their names now; we looked for favorites and consulted our programs for the names of new performers. ‘I have been looking forward to Morgan James,’ I whispered to Coralie.
Teddy Abrams introduced the evening’s program, which would open with classical pieces inspired by jazz, and progress to ‘what might be called authentic jazz.’ But ‘What is jazz?’ was a question asked several times during the course of a diverse program; the only satisfactory answer was the music itself.
The first piece on the program was another by Bèla Bartók, a piece commissioned by big band leader Benny Goodman. ‘Contrasts {and part 2}’ features the clarinet, of course; Johnny Teyssier had the honors and was accompanied by Lily Francis on the violin and Abrams on the piano.
Next were the two last movements of Maurice Ravel’s rather refined version of the blues. {Quite different, I whispered to Coralie, from the Ravel piano suite I had heard earlier at the other concert.} Johannes Dickbauer was featured on the violin with Abrams at the piano, playing ‘Blues Moderato’ and ‘Perpetuum Mobile’ from Ravel’s Violin Sonata No. 2.
I was looking forward to the next piece— ‘Golliwog’s Cakewalk’ from The Children’s Corner by Claude Debussy. The fanciful piece—which was performed for us by the Sixth Floor Trio—was inspired by the cakewalks and ragtimes that lit up Paris nightlife at the turn of the century.
Abrams had promised a ‘seamless transition’ to ‘real ragtime,’ and so—Three men slid onto the piano bench for the jaunty ‘Maple Leaf Rag.’ The Go-Pro cameras weren’t working that night, and it was difficult to see at our angle from the stage; but we could spot Sebastien Chang tinkling at the high notes, and occasionally Chase Morrin’s smile would bob over the music rack. Laughter from the audience was mixed with the applause.
Percussionist Gabriel Globus-Hoenich took the mic: ‘Some words I never thought that I would say before coming on this trip—man, it’s cold! In Miami!’
It was cold; even in three layers I was shivering. The musicians had been looking forward to visiting the Sunshine State, but landed here in the coldest weeks we’ve had this season. Several nights earlier, it had frosted for the first time in many years.
Globus-Hoenich introduced the next piece,—‘Aftermath’ by Vijay Iyer—and soon had us chanting ‘pineapple, mango’ and clapping along to the unusual five-beat pattern of the music we were about to hear. ‘Maybe it will sound a little bit less strange to you now,’ he said before taking the drums. I will admit that I enjoyed the music, and the only thing I found strange was thinking of tropical fruits while listening!
We had a brief intermission next, and a quick run to the restrooms left us shivering crazily. ‘I think the temperature just dropped several degrees,’ Coralie gasped.
Morgan James introduced the second half of the program with a series of songs by Nina Simone {and part 2}. Again, we had been looking forward to hearing Ms. James, and her rich, sultry voice did not disappoint. She may have been regretting the little black dress, though! Between songs, she chafed her spangled arms for a little warmth.
Given my famous aversion to saxophones, I was pleasantly surprised by Troy Robert’s wonderful accompaniment. He returned for the second part of the Jazz Set {and part 2}.
‘How many of you have been to Cuba?’ Globus-Hoenich asked, and there were a few hands raised, including ours. Next on the program was a Latin salsa set featuring Havana-born Xavier Mili Saint-Ives.
It’s music made for moving, and it wasn’t long before members of the audience were on their feet dancing between the chairs and tables. Coralie and I enjoyed watching the older couples salsa expertly. {It reminded me that we’ve been meaning to take classes...} There was even a brief attempt at a conga line. Coralie and I clapped along, and tried not to get crushed by said passing conga line.
The music went on and on, and we hoped it would never stop. Whenever the music slowed the least bit, someone would shout, ‘Another one! Just one more!’
But the music finally did come to an end, and the tent erupted with applause. Double carpal tunnel be darned; I clapped wildly. We clapped and clapped; people shouted for an encore; and we clapped some more. The musicians smiled widely and bowed again and again. But they’d already mentioned looking forward to warm beds, and beat their retreat.
So we did too. My hands were sore the next morning.
• 2014 Garden Music Festival at Fairchild Tropical Botanic Garden •
February 25, 2014