Pictures of the IDRS Conference
Concert programs from the IDRS Conference
Dear Joyce,
You asked me to tell you all about the Conference when I found the time. It has certainly been a one-of-a-kind experience, taking just as much effort as Nancy and I thought. I can't say even yet if we've completely recuperated. As you might expect, the days preceding the opening concert were jammed with last-minute details.
Fernando Sosa, the Guatemalan bassoonist with whom I had communicated only in letters written through an interpreter, was the first guest performer scheduled to arrive. I knew him, like most of the sixty-five other performing personalities, solely through two or three long-distance letters or phone calls; this made all these people seem more imaginary than real. I nervously watched the ramp that leads into the air terminal. Manuel--you remember my student from Nicaragua--watched too. As we stood there alone, it suddenly seemed unimaginable that all the expected people would actually arrive; it seemed that anxiety would turn into panic as neither artist nor audience materialized.
But then passengers rounded the corner, and the fourth one, a dark thin man, carried a bassoon. As Manuel ran forward I felt a great relief as if this arrival spelled assurance that the other unknown oboists and bassoonists would appear. And they did!
That was Thursday. On Friday and Saturday I had rehearsals of my own plus grass to mow at home while performers for Sunday's concerts and clinics continued to arrive at Tallahassee's airport. Miraculously they found their own way to the dorm, to their rehearsals, and to food--something we had not been able to have furnished at the dorm before Sunday.
I must tell you about Sylvain Lhuissier's arrival; he was one of the semi-finalists in the Gillet Competition. In a pre-dawn telephone conversation on July 4, I had promised the mother of this seventeen-year-old Frenchman that I would personally meet him at the airport. He could speak no English, she had said, but a little German. I had been trying to brush up my very meager French, but I had halfway expected him to speak enough English to carry us.
When he said, "I-do-not-speak-English," I knew from the non-rhythmic delivery that it was really true. My tongue was paralyzed for what seemed to be five horrible minutes as the two of us stared at each other, at the floor, back to each other. Finally I somehow managed, Viens . . . avec . . . moi, and at least the silence was broken. Almost immediately I discovered Sylvain to be full of the spirit of international communication which was so often felt here. He would speak slowly and with an easily recognized vocabulary, and by the time he left, he had even spoken some English.
I spent most of Sunday supervising the set-up of the exhibitor's displays; Nancy supervised registration at the dormitory. I had seen so few people during the day that I had convinced myself that attendance was small. When I looked out from backstage before Sunday's opening concert though, I was happy to see an audience of at least two hundred people.
The young German oboist Jochen Müller-Brincken played with great style and with a round, dark tone. His extremely musical performance was almost operatic, although he may have moved about too much while playing for some tastes. His interpretation covered an unusually wide gamut of moods, and he took advantage of almost every available nuance.
In the Pasculli variations his use of circular breathing made the virtuosic technical passages truly "breath-taking. " It was unfortunate that the air-conditioning caused him problems from water accumulating in his instrument.
With only two weeks' notice, William Ludwig from the University of South Florida replaced the German bassoonist originally scheduled to appear on this concert . . . especially remarkable since he performed two Bach cello Suites! Ludwig took a very robust and energetic approach to both Suites (his own transcriptions) and never seemed to suffer the slightest endurance problems.
After the opening meeting on Monday, morning lectures were given by Earnest Harrison from Louisiana State University and Steven Braunstein from the Toronto Symphony. Harrison's excellent and energetic presentation covered oboe teaching techniques while Braunstein, with an occasional interjection from Cornelia Biggers and Sol Schoenbach, discussed maintenance of the contrabassoon.
Monday's first concert featured Daniel Stolper, oboist from Michigan State University and co-editor of the IDRS Journal, and Richard Lottridge, bassoonist from the University of Wisconsin at Madison. The program was a bonanza for lovers of Romantic music but a little too long.
Stolper presented the Grand Sonate by Pixis, a little-known work in which he displayed a tone quality which was lyric yet full. The piano writing here abounded with Chopin-esque figurations . . . indeed a technical tour de force. It was handled reasonably well by Tallahassee's Lillian Pearson who otherwise accompanied beautifully on so many of the Conference concerts. The work itself, however, focused so much attention on the piano that the oboe often seemed neglected.
Stolper returned after the intermission to demonstrate excellent control in a well-studied reading of the fourth Zelenka Sonata. In this work he was joined by oboist Evelyn McCarty who also survived well the rigors of this constant playing.
On the first half of this program bassoonist Richard Lottridge demonstrated his versatility by performing three short jazz works, one of which was his own composition. The pieces featured both ballad and "up-tempo" styles. Later, in his performance of the Schreck Sonata, the ensemble flexibility which is so effective, so necessary in performing this Romantic music was very much in evidence, and Lottridge's bassoon tone was always properly in the foreground. Even though the work did seem too long, it is certainly endearing because of its rarity.
Monday's 4:00 p.m. concert was devoted almost entirely to the Wiese-Wollo-Waring Trio, a remarkable Norwegian jazz group. Their most impressive feature was their distinctive "sound"--meaning not just the result of the particular combination of tone qualities (oboe, guitar, and vibraphone), but also including the lean, compact, and supple style in which all their compositions were written. "Classical" in feeling but jazz-improvisation oriented, this trio functioned as a solid unit, not as three separates, and with an intense internal communication that was fascinating.
Sandwiched in the middle of the program was Stuart MacKay, the man recognized as the original jazz bassoonist. Although he kept worrying about being a little out of shape in his retirement, Stuie showed his disarming personal style by playing two of his own compositions from his 1950 album "Reap the Wild Winds. "
Two bassoonists provided Monday evening's entertainment: Fernando Sosa of Guatemala and Gareth Newman of England. Señor Sosa made use of a programming technique currently out of fashion in the United States but still interesting -- performing only one movement from each of several different works and arranging these movements to complement each other in the program. His strongest playing was in the slow movements, as in the Andante from Milde's Second Concerto, where he sang the music with a soulful intensity that disguised the fact that his instrument might be considered unplayable by some.
Sosa's performance was an inspiration; it was the performance of a truly dedicated artist who is working valiantly toward a clearer expression of his art despite serious hindrances and relative isolation.
Gareth Newman was a bassoonist with real flair and a dashing stage presence. His selections, all by English composers, were executed in a virtually flawless performance; even he seemed to be enjoying every minute of it. He played a Fox bassoon (as do his other colleagues in the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic), and from it he drew a large, woody sound.
His Hurlstone and Elgar were definitely not over-romanticized; as a matter of fact, lovers of sentimentality could have asked for more. His Jacob Concerto was the highlight, featuring very brisk tempt and excellent technical control in the fast movements.
Tuesday morning's session "Befriending Stagefright" attracted an eager and responsive audience. Robert Triplett--organist, author, and consultant--detailed his method of using stagefright to advantage. Both his enthusiastic approach and personality were captivating, and a number of conference participants scheduled private training sessions with him.
The Concert of Recent Works on Tuesday afternoon was most noteworthy for the fact that all of the performing ensembles were well prepared. With the exception of John Corina's Partita for oboe and percussion, none of the works played sounded very recent, though. Oboist Doris DeLoach and bassoonist Brian Kershner displayed well-matched tone colors in Boda's Games; Nichols' Three Lyrical Songs had interesting sonorities between bassoon (James Mendenhall) and tenor; DeBolt's Adagio and Fugue provided a well-structured conclusion. But the best-received work was Harold Schiffman's Divertimento for violin and oboe, performed by wife-husband duo Karen Clarke and George Riordan. Their reading of this work-- and of Alan Blank's Miscellany on Wednesday --filled the music with an infectious sparkle.
On the first half of Tuesday's 4 p.m. concert, oboist Ron Richards, bassoonist Darlene Jussila, and pianist Carlo Pinto--all from the State University of New York at Buffalo--performed two trios from a repertoire of compositions they have dubbed "buried treasures. " Their ensemble had good tone, balance, and style; their presentation was admirably enthusiastic and dedicated. Except for some occasional unevenness in technique, they represented this music very well. Even though one might question some miscalculations by the composers, it was good to hear their music because there was much to enjoy.
After an intermission, the darkened hall resounded with five English horns played without reeds in a composition written and executed by Joseph Celli. The oboe, the Mukha vena (Indian double-reed instrument), and other amplified sounds were the vehicles for Celli's other compositions.
This was the performance that people traditionally walk out on, and they did. Those who remained were mesmerized by Celli's relaxed and open performance, by the enormous creativity in his explorings, and by the electric experience itself.
Tuesday evening's concert by the doublereed principals of the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra (Jonathan Dlouhy, oboe; Patrick McFarland, English horn; Carl Nitchie, bassoon) was a showpiece of unanimity in sound and style. The opening Trio (Gratin) for oboe d'amore, English horn, and bassoon immediately proved their precision and blend. One of the instruments is different in the original scoring, but this combination was gorgeous and a perfect display of their melting tones.
Each then performed one solo work. McFarland chose the Koetsier Partita; unfortunately the organ was a bit overpowering. Nitchie played the Fasch Sonata with an incredibly fast last movement, and Dlouhy showed virtuosic skill in Paladilhe.
Especially noteworthy after the intermission was the technical execution of the Jolivet Sonatine. The program closed with two pleasant trios -- one by Australian composer-oboist Graham Powning, who had delivered a memorable lecture on his own compositions earlier in the day.
On Wednesday morning Christopher Weait presented his impressive fluoroscopic study of vibrato; Nora Post, using one harpsichord tuned at 415 and one at 430, compared Baroque and Classical oboes. Then at 11:00 a.m. the final exciting round of the Gillet Performance Competition was held. All five finalists played extremely well, but David McGill, winner of the first prize, performed Osborne's Rhapsody with a composure that was uncanny.
Wednesday afternoon's Concert of Recent Works was full of variety. Bassoonist Robert Olson performed a unique work for three bassoons (one live, two on tape), and oboist Charles Lehrer delivered eight of Mueller's Etudes in the New Style with unusually convincing style. Of dramatic interest was ,em>The Steadfast Tin Soldier narrated by the composer, Luigi Zaninelli, and ably performed by oboist Patricia Malone, bassoonist John Bivins, and other colleagues.
At the beginning of Wednesday's final concert, Sylvain Lhuissier, a student of Maurice Allard's and second prize winner in the Gillet Competition, gave a stunning performance of an improvisatory work for the French bassoon, Stigmates by Massias. Whether the result of the imagination of the composer or of the performer or both, Stigmates abounded in technical feats and wonderful sonorities most unthinkable on the German bassoon.
At last came the appearance of the eminent French bassoonist, Maurice Allard. Although his main role at the concert was as conductor, he did perform one work on the bassoon--his transcription of the flashy violin vignette, Zapateado. Allard demonstrated great virtuosity, jetting repeatedly up to high e's and the like. Despite some intonation difficulties in the accompanying ensemble, his relaxation and style easily came through.
He conducted various sized bassoon ensembles with great gusto in his adroit transcriptions of works such as Pizzicato Polka and Bolero, and he spoke to the audience through an interpreter. The blended sound of French and German bassoons was round and organ-like. Everyone had fun and the spectacle was terrific.
After a monumental reshuffling of chairs, Don Christlieb conducted the second annual performance of Handel's Music for the Royal Fireworks. Crowded on stage with brass and percussion was almost every oboist and bassoonist who attended the Conference. This festive conclusion could fit no better and could sound no more proud!