"What Wondrous Means"
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5/24/16 |
by Me. @FilmScoreFans
The word “icon” is the last stronghold of the English language. We haphazardly assign descriptors like amazing and epic to everything from ice cream to the Super Bowl. But when we describe a person, place, or thing as iconic, the word still carries a majestic weight. It still has true meaning. In the world of film music, John Williams is the icon. Discussion over.
And so, when my hometown Philadelphia Orchestra announced a two-week celebration of his music, I immediately went to my bucket list. And wouldn’t you know it, “see John Williams conduct” was at the top of the list.
To be clear, this is not a review of the orchestra performance or The Kimmel Center’s production. It is simply an account of one of the most fulfilling musical weeks of my life. Have you ever stood in the same room as your hero and watched them put their life’s work on display on a grand stage? I have, and it was wondrous.
Wondrous.
Principal Guest Conductor Stéphane Denève pinned this word into my memory as he introduced the concert’s Harry Potter selection. He spoke eloquently, saying that John Williams has shown him “what wondrous means.” It is a simple notion, but perhaps the best descriptor I’ve ever heard when considering Williams’ vast library of work.
John Williams is an icon with a wondrous musical voice. It was a joy to behold this gift in Philadelphia.
The word “icon” is the last stronghold of the English language. We haphazardly assign descriptors like amazing and epic to everything from ice cream to the Super Bowl. But when we describe a person, place, or thing as iconic, the word still carries a majestic weight. It still has true meaning. In the world of film music, John Williams is the icon. Discussion over.
And so, when my hometown Philadelphia Orchestra announced a two-week celebration of his music, I immediately went to my bucket list. And wouldn’t you know it, “see John Williams conduct” was at the top of the list.
To be clear, this is not a review of the orchestra performance or The Kimmel Center’s production. It is simply an account of one of the most fulfilling musical weeks of my life. Have you ever stood in the same room as your hero and watched them put their life’s work on display on a grand stage? I have, and it was wondrous.
Wondrous.
Principal Guest Conductor Stéphane Denève pinned this word into my memory as he introduced the concert’s Harry Potter selection. He spoke eloquently, saying that John Williams has shown him “what wondrous means.” It is a simple notion, but perhaps the best descriptor I’ve ever heard when considering Williams’ vast library of work.
John Williams is an icon with a wondrous musical voice. It was a joy to behold this gift in Philadelphia.
Three Concerts in Eight Nights
I love the east coast. I love living an hour outside of Philadelphia. I love experiencing four seasons. I hate living 3000 miles way from the center of the film score world. And don't get me started on Europe. Los Angeles and multiple cities across the Atlantic Ocean host film score concerts on a regular basis. It seems to be the internet's sole mission to make me jealous of fans that are able to attend those events. Alan Silvestri in Vienna. Brian Tyler in London. Hans Zimmer all over the place. And finally, John Williams with Gustavo Dudamel and the LA Philharmonic. East Coast offerings? A few live to picture performances in Philly and Danny Elfman in New York. Wonderful stuff, but severely lacking compared to the rest of the world.
Philadelphia Orchestra to the rescue!
Under the watchful eye of Denève, the orchestra programmed three performances centered around the music of John Williams.
Philadelphia Orchestra to the rescue!
Under the watchful eye of Denève, the orchestra programmed three performances centered around the music of John Williams.
The orchestra could have easily presented one selection on one night and been satisfied (as they did with Close Encounters of the Third Kind a few years back...). But, they dove in as deep as possible. Perform two concertos and have the man himself lead the orchestra through an entire program of his music.
Perfect Bookends: The Concertos
The Disembodied Hand of Yo-Yo Ma
It is no secret that John Williams and Yo-Yo Ma have maintained a healthy friendship for years. And so it made perfect sense to have the cello master involved in this collection of performances. Luckily, schedules aligned, and Ma joined us in Philadelphia on April 30th to perform the Williams Cello Concerto. When purchasing my tickets, I specifically ordered tickets in the third row, just to the left of center. I have seen Ma in concert on several occasions, and one of the most enjoyable parts is watching his expressions as he performs. I did not want to miss that aspect of the experience in my hometown John Williams celebration. I didn't get what I expected (and it wasn't a total loss...).
What a nice view I had! We were just far enough to the left that the principal violinist's back blocked about 95% of Yo-Yo Ma. In the entirety of Kimmel Center, I had somehow managed to pick the only seats with an obstructed view. As he sat down to begin, I quickly realized I would only be able to see his instrument and bow in hand. Quickly making my peace with the situation, I realized the experience would be fascinating.
Imagine watching a painter's hand working on canvas, or even a mechanic's hands under the hood. Take every other bit of information out of your perspective. You can only see the exact spot where creative thought meets physical reality. Like some modern living art exhibition, Ma's hand was magic. His face is so expressive that it is often the focal point of his performances. On this night, his bow hand was the star (at least in my memory). It was like watching a dancer on stage, and I'm thrilled to have had the view.
Imagine watching a painter's hand working on canvas, or even a mechanic's hands under the hood. Take every other bit of information out of your perspective. You can only see the exact spot where creative thought meets physical reality. Like some modern living art exhibition, Ma's hand was magic. His face is so expressive that it is often the focal point of his performances. On this night, his bow hand was the star (at least in my memory). It was like watching a dancer on stage, and I'm thrilled to have had the view.
Wait, I Like Atonal Music?
The concerto itself was a fantastic mix of the signature John Williams sound with atonal melodic structure. The orchestra served as a tonal center around which the solo cello could explore more experimental ground. I've generally stayed away from atonal music written in my lifetime. My experience has been limited to the Stravinsky and Schoenberg works assigned to me in music theory or form & analysis classes. Williams' Cello Concerto might be the bridge that allows me to visit atonal music in the future.
Fast forward to the final concert in this series. The orchestra performed his Violin Concerto on May 7th with soloist James Ehnes. He took the stage and continued to make me second guess my "no atonal music" rule. This piece has even less tonal center than the Cello Concerto. Williams refers to it as atonal in a Romantic style. I think this beautifully sums things up. Ehnes' performance was so dynamic that he held my interest from start to finish. I found it amazing that a higher frequency of atonal structures was still so enjoyable.
Fast forward to the final concert in this series. The orchestra performed his Violin Concerto on May 7th with soloist James Ehnes. He took the stage and continued to make me second guess my "no atonal music" rule. This piece has even less tonal center than the Cello Concerto. Williams refers to it as atonal in a Romantic style. I think this beautifully sums things up. Ehnes' performance was so dynamic that he held my interest from start to finish. I found it amazing that a higher frequency of atonal structures was still so enjoyable.
These two nights have had a profound effect on what parts of John Williams' library I'll be visiting over the next few months. His non-film music is just as vibrant and worthwhile as every note composed for the screen.
John Williams in Philadelphia
One Row Back, Ten Seats To the Left
My seats on May 4th were about 8 rows back from the stage, dead center. In past concerts with VIP composers in attendance, they have usually sat up in the first tier box seats. I was a little worried I'd have a difficult time seeing Williams as he took in the night's performances.
Just as the lights lowered, and the "no cell phone" announcement began, the front left doors opened and John Williams made a quiet entrance. No more than thirty feet away, his entourage turned up the first aisle and he took his seat. One row back, ten seats to the left. He was right there. I'm not embarrassed to say that my heart was pounding. I very suddenly realized that I could feel the pulse in my throat. (And had Kimmel Center suddenly turned up the heat?) I could turn my head slightly to the left and have a perfect view of the one and only John Williams. Just being in the same room as the icon filled me with a very simple joy.
Stéphane Denève
In Philadelphia, we are extremely lucky to have our orchestra under the direction of Yannick Nézet-Séguin. We are equally privileged to have Stéphane Denève serve as Principal Guest Conductor.
The original program for May 4th was advertised as a complete night conducted by John Williams. A few months before the big night, it was unfortunately announced that Williams would no longer be at the podium for the entire concert. Due to schedule conflicts (most likely his work on Spielberg's BFG?), the composer would be in attendance but only lead the orchestra through their closing selections. Denève was already scheduled to be leading the concertos, so it made perfect sense that he would take the baton.
Throughout the evening, we were treated to videos of a recorded conversation between Denève and Williams. They were sometimes lighthearted, other times more serious, and even delved a little into his compositional process. It would have been wonderful to hear Williams speak throughout the night, but this was a nice way to keep him at the center of the festivities. These conversations were fascinating, but certainly too short. Ken Burns needs to get to work on his next documentary, and I have his topic right here.
Denève brought a "serious orchestra" stamp of approval to the evening. It is an issue that was not ignored by this production. The night's program mentioned it clearly: Williams (and all film music for that matter) is not always accepted by the modern orchestra world. Is it serious music? Is it worthwhile on stage considering that the genesis is always from a visual inspiration? Denève put these questions to rest with his obvious enthusiasm. One of his best moments (with the microphone in hand) was his plug for the Philadelphia Orchestra's planned performance of E.T. In October, under his leadership, they will perform the entire score to picture. He was almost giddy at this thought: his 8 year old daughter will be in the audience. It will be her first viewing of the film, with her father conducting the score. He gets it.
Throughout the evening, we were treated to videos of a recorded conversation between Denève and Williams. They were sometimes lighthearted, other times more serious, and even delved a little into his compositional process. It would have been wonderful to hear Williams speak throughout the night, but this was a nice way to keep him at the center of the festivities. These conversations were fascinating, but certainly too short. Ken Burns needs to get to work on his next documentary, and I have his topic right here.
Denève brought a "serious orchestra" stamp of approval to the evening. It is an issue that was not ignored by this production. The night's program mentioned it clearly: Williams (and all film music for that matter) is not always accepted by the modern orchestra world. Is it serious music? Is it worthwhile on stage considering that the genesis is always from a visual inspiration? Denève put these questions to rest with his obvious enthusiasm. One of his best moments (with the microphone in hand) was his plug for the Philadelphia Orchestra's planned performance of E.T. In October, under his leadership, they will perform the entire score to picture. He was almost giddy at this thought: his 8 year old daughter will be in the audience. It will be her first viewing of the film, with her father conducting the score. He gets it.
Sound The Bells!
Without any preamble, the orchestra leapt into the night's first selection. I have heard Sound the Bells! as part of the American Journey (2001) album, but am not familiar with it. It was exciting to hear an overture that was also new music from my perspective.
What a non-stop expression of joy! It is incredible that any musician can create such a vibrant piece of music that maintains this level of intensity throughout. This type of writing can often be heard in fanfare introductions to a longer piece of music. But here, Williams keeps the cerebration going for almost three full minutes and every note is completely engaging. As the orchestra began, my night long smile planted itself firmly in place.
To Video or Not To Video
Going into the night, it was unclear if the program would include constant video accompaniment. As enjoyable as live to picture screenings can be, it was my sincere hope that this concert would allow the music to stand on its own. I was not disappointed. The majority of the evening's music was performed without film. The only exceptions were Close Encounters of the Third Kind, The Raiders March, and Jaws. Encounters and Raiders opened their respective halves of the program and featured montages of scenes from each film.
Jaws, however, provided a different experience. Denève, who entertained the audience with his own thoughts and anecdotes throughout the night, introduced the idea of film without music. As an example, they showed The Barrel Chase scene without the score, immediately followed by a second viewing with the live orchestra performance. Effective to say the least.
Jaws, however, provided a different experience. Denève, who entertained the audience with his own thoughts and anecdotes throughout the night, introduced the idea of film without music. As an example, they showed The Barrel Chase scene without the score, immediately followed by a second viewing with the live orchestra performance. Effective to say the least.
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Hai-Ye Ni & Memoirs of A Geisha
This is not a score that's made any kind of impact on my listening habits. In fact, in the years since it debuted, I have rarely returned to it. It was, unexpectedly, one of the most engaging portions of the night. After the first few pieces, principal cellist Hai-Ye Ni made her way to the stage in traditional Japanese clothing. Her featured performance was completely engrossing. Sayuri's Theme was beautifully played, but it was Brush on Silk that made this film such a great selection for the night. In the original recording, traditional Japanese string instruments are used. But, in this performance, Ni was tasked with accomplishing that distinct sound on her cello. It was a work out. As a season ticket holder, I've rarely seen a cellist (besides Ma the week before) move with such strength and purpose. In a night of instantly recognizable and beloved melodies, Memoirs of a Geisha was probably the least well known score. Hai-Ye Ni's performance made it one of the more magical moments.
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Mrs. FilmScoreFan side note: Hai-Ye Ni's hair made her really nervous. It wasn't tied back. Would it get caught in her cello's strings? Would she survive the night unscathed? It was quite harrowing... for Mrs. FSF. (I'm happy to report that no musicians were harmed and that Mrs. FSF is sleeping soundly.)
Williams Takes The Stage
"Yes. (long pause) This is the moment we have all been waiting for." With that, we knew the main event was about to begin. Because no introduction was needed, Denève quickly welcomed John Williams to the stage to a roar of applause. Williams said a few words of thanks to the audience and to the Philadelphia Orchestra and then immediately took control of the stage. He was wise, whimsical, and comical with every word.
The first selection was an extended version of The Throne Room and End Titles from Star Wars. The Throne Room portion was twice as long as the film version that took the theme through further development. The End Titles portion was as it appeared in the film.
The first selection was an extended version of The Throne Room and End Titles from Star Wars. The Throne Room portion was twice as long as the film version that took the theme through further development. The End Titles portion was as it appeared in the film.
Next came selections from The Force Awakens. They began with Rey's Theme. He spoke very lovingly of the Star Wars films just before this selection. He told the audience of how Kathleen Kennedy had approached him to do the new film and his initial response was that he didn't know if he had it in him. He chuckled as he admitted that he probably ended up doing it because he just didn't want anyone else to. It was completely endearing to hear him take personal ownership of this music. So often, musicians try to distance themselves from their greatest hits (I'm looking at you Tchaikovsky). But here, Williams acknowledged Star Wars as an integral part of his life's work - and of who he is as a human being.
Remember how I said Williams immediately took control of the stage? With Rey's Theme, he seemed to take control of the orchestra. It was fairly clear that the orchestra had settled into a tempo just slightly below what Williams is used to. Having conducted my share of performances and also having played for a variety of conductors, I have experienced this from both perspectives It isn't anyone's fault - it is just a lack familiarity with each other. With powerfully insistent movements, he demanded (especially from the 1st violins) a faster performance. And he got it. It was thrilling to see him not just as a composer, but as a musician and conductor. Rey's Theme is magical and wonderfully suited for the character. (That scene where she sleds down the sand dune... I mean, c'mon it is PERFECTLY scored.) Even with the tempo disagreement, the orchestra's performance was wonderful. It was quite an experience to see Williams lead music that has so recently been etched into our society's consciousness.
Remember how I said Williams immediately took control of the stage? With Rey's Theme, he seemed to take control of the orchestra. It was fairly clear that the orchestra had settled into a tempo just slightly below what Williams is used to. Having conducted my share of performances and also having played for a variety of conductors, I have experienced this from both perspectives It isn't anyone's fault - it is just a lack familiarity with each other. With powerfully insistent movements, he demanded (especially from the 1st violins) a faster performance. And he got it. It was thrilling to see him not just as a composer, but as a musician and conductor. Rey's Theme is magical and wonderfully suited for the character. (That scene where she sleds down the sand dune... I mean, c'mon it is PERFECTLY scored.) Even with the tempo disagreement, the orchestra's performance was wonderful. It was quite an experience to see Williams lead music that has so recently been etched into our society's consciousness.
They followed up Rey's Theme with March of the Resistance. If you read my thoughts on The Force Awakens, you know that I was a little confused by this theme. To me it sounded a bit out of place - or ill suited to represent a heroic squadron of X-wings. Putting that aside, the live performance was beyond fun. If you've never seen a live orchestra perform, you're missing out. Every stylistic choice is accentuated by the physical representation of the music: their movements help sell the entertainment value. March of the Resistance benefited from live performance greatly.
Perhaps my favorite part of seeing Williams conduct was his iconic releases and cut-off gestures. If you've ever watched videos of him leading an orchestra, you've seen it. At the end of most adventure tracks, he releases the final note or hits the final impact by simply leveling his left hand straight out to the side. Check out the special features on the Blu-Ray/DVD/Digital/whateverthekidsarewatchingthesedays and you'll see what I mean. It was like seeing Jordan dunk from the foul line.
Encore #1 - SCHIndler's List
At the conclusion of the program, Williams returned to further acknowledge the audience response. It quickly became clear that the night was far from over. Principal violinist David Kim stood and raised his music stand. You could hear the knowledgeable members of the audience whispering one word: "Schindler."
Before beginning, Williams shared a few thoughts about his partnership with Spielberg over the past 40+ years. To sum things up, Williams concluded, "We never argue. It's like a very good marriage." And isn't that exactly how we've all pictured it over the decades?
He also shared an anecdote from their time working on Schindler's List. He informed us that he and Spielberg always meet at Spielberg's home to view finished versions of their films. When Schindler's List was completed, they met for this traditional screening. When it was over, they prepared to discuss the film as they always do. He reminisced about viewing this particularly powerful film and needing a moment to collect himself. He walked around outside the house (huge mansion?) for a short time. When he returned, he told Spielberg that the movie was perfect. But, he had doubts that his music had done it justice. In fact, he told the director that he felt a greater composer was needed. As Williams told it, Spielberg's response brought the house down: "I know, but they're all dead." Obviously, we all disagree with Williams' self-assessment.
He also shared an anecdote from their time working on Schindler's List. He informed us that he and Spielberg always meet at Spielberg's home to view finished versions of their films. When Schindler's List was completed, they met for this traditional screening. When it was over, they prepared to discuss the film as they always do. He reminisced about viewing this particularly powerful film and needing a moment to collect himself. He walked around outside the house (huge mansion?) for a short time. When he returned, he told Spielberg that the movie was perfect. But, he had doubts that his music had done it justice. In fact, he told the director that he felt a greater composer was needed. As Williams told it, Spielberg's response brought the house down: "I know, but they're all dead." Obviously, we all disagree with Williams' self-assessment.
David Kim - Principal Violin
Just a quick note: watching David Kim perform is pure joy. When playing a piece as heart wrenching as the theme from Schindler's List, the composer has done a lot of the heavy lifting. I get that. But, you still have to have an artist bring it to life. David Kim did that here, and has done so with every other note I've ever heard him play. From the rousing finale of E.T. to this featured performance, Mr. Kim does it right.
Encore #2 - Scherzo For X-Wings
One of the biggest surprises of the evening was the orchestra's performance of Scherzo for X-Wings. Before starting things off, Williams spoke briefly about this cue by mentioning the extreme virtuosity needed to perform it. As part of these comments, he told the Philadelphia crowd just how wonderful our orchestra is, and how lucky we are to have such an organization to enjoy and support. We've all heard those compilation albums put out by orchestras from around the world. Quite often they just don't capture the essence or specific style choices we're so used to on original recordings. For each selection, The Fabulous Philadelphians matched the style and intensity of original versions. It is a testament to their talent and to the leadership of Stéphane Denève. This was not a night of playing John Williams music. This was a night of performing the music just as he intended.
He then slipped in a comment (he's known for bringing this up) concerning the mix of score and sound effects. He was happy to have this specific track performed live so that the audience could "actually hear it." We were happy, too.
Encore #3 - The Imperial march
For a third and final time, John Williams returned to the stage of Verizon Hall in the Kimmel Center. He turned to the orchestra and began the most recognizable music ever written for film.
The audience immediately reacted with a collective "oooh!" One women next to me unabashedly exclaimed, "Yes!" as the first notes were recognized.
Once In A Lifetime
I will most likely never see John Williams conduct or speak again. I will definitely never see him with my hometown orchestra again. The mix of video interviews, live story telling, and masterful performances helped the night live up to every expectation.
John Williams' music is so iconic that we sometimes forget it was created by a living artist. A real person. For those of us younger than much of his music, we subconsciously assume his music has just "always been." But at some point, each of his scores was "born" after millennia of non-existence. To be in the same room with such a master while he helped relive these very real moments in his life was.... wondrous.