I was super excited to be a part of a bicycle ensemble yesterday evening. It was part of the Monday Evening Concerts’ performance of Eine Brise: Transient Action for 111 Bicyclists. This music/conceptual art piece, by composer Mauricio Kagel, is entirely written out on sheet music. A performance lasts about 60-90 seconds.

So, around 5:00 yesterday afternoon, I loaded up my borrowed bike into my NOT bike friendly car and headed off to rehearsal.

Everyone gathered on lower Grand Ave (at the unpronounceable cross street Kosciuszko Way) in Downtown LA to practice the sounds Kagel’s score indicates. First, the bike bells: one forte ring, followed by a fortissimo tremolo, followed by a triple-forte tremelo. This was to be performed as we first caught sight of the audience.

Then, whistling: three different pitches, each one higher and louder than the last.

Singing was next.  Like the whistling it was three pitches, each one higher and louder than the last…on the vowels Ah, Eee, and Oh.

The whistling and singing was to be combined in the performance.  At a predetermined landmark (in this case, the colorful MOCA sign), we would switch from bike bells to whistling/singing.

As soon as we started to pass the audience, the score instructed us to alternate between a whooshing sound (crescendo from piano to fortissimo, decrescendo back to piano) and flutter tongue (fortissimo at two pitches: the second higher than the first).

Put it all together and the performance goes something like this.  (Okay, it was super dark and the camera I stealthily attached to my handlebars isn’t so hot, but you get the idea.)

It was a little lighter at rehearsal.

~ Brian Lauritzen

That would be me! In fact, I’m so excited that my hair is literally standing on end. But it’s not just the end of the KUSC Winter Membership Drive that I’m excited about. It’s the incredible support I’ve seen from each of you over the past nine days. What a strong voice you have for classical music on the Southern California airwaves…and globally right here online at KUSC.org. I have to say, I’m not surprised. When you work alongside Bach, Mozart, and Tchaikovsky all day long, you realize the indispensable nature of this music.

Well, today you have one last chance to share YOUR excitement about this music with KUSC. A quick pledge here at KUSC.org…or a phone call to 1.800.421.1717. Who knows? Maybe your hair will go berserk too.

~ Brian Lauritzen

Last night I got to be the Master of Ceremonies at the 14th Annual Grammy Salute to Classical Music.  The invitation-only event at the intimate Broad Stage in Santa Monica was a concert/tribute honoring the one-and-only Placido Domingo.  As is usually the case with this affair, the place was jammed with a Who’s Who of classical music as well as dignitaries from other disciplines.  Los Angeles Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa was there.  As was Grammy-winning superstar guitarist Angel Romero, and at least one other Grammy winner - Hawaiian music specialist Tia Carrere (who you likely know better as the hard rockin’ lead female character of Cassandra in the Wayne’s World films).  That kind of crowd.  Can you say “intimidating?”

Four dazzling singers (one of them, all of 18 - geesh) sang arias, accompanied by a two-dozen piece ensemble drawn from the Los Angeles Opera Orchestra, directed by Grant Gershon. Over the course of the evening my role was to introduce the singers and, between arias, give the audience a multi-part overview of Domingo’s career. At the conclusion of the program the Grammy’s President Neil Portnow presented Placido with the President’s Merit Award.

Throughout it all Domingo and his family sat in the front row, dead center.  Imagine being a young singer performing on stage and seeing Placido Domingo staring up at you from 8 feet away in Row 1.  In fact, it wasn’t that much different for me (except for the ‘young’ part).  There I am at a lectern talking about the career of this living legend sitting just a few feet away.  Let me tell you something: when you crack a joke in front of a crowd of 500 people and one of those people is Placido - the man of the hour -  you’re gauging your success or failure by the reaction you get from only one person.

Having said that, I had a blast. Not only was the audience in a good mood, so was the honoree.  No wonder.  The four singers were stellar and the orchestra, in spite of being chamber-sized, sounded terrific.  I got a chance to toss off a few quips and they did not land with a thud, thank goodness.  Toward the very end, the script had me recounting Domingo’s stage stats, including the fact that his repertory “…spans more than 130 roles - never before achieved by any other tenor in the history of opera.”  It was then that I paused, looked directly at Placido, pointed my finger at him and added “I’m looking forward to your Norma.”  Sure there was some laughter from the crowd.  But the wisecrack elicited a big, doubled over guffaw from Domingo himself, loud enough so that everyone heard it.  At that point I felt like James Cameron checking the weekend’s box office receipts.

The award ceremony took place and Domingo spoke - eloquently, humbly, movingly, tearfully.  He then graciously invited the night’s singers to come back for a final group bow.  He then left the stage and sat back down.  I strolled back to the lectern and bade the crowd “Good night.”  And then, another of those “Don’t you dare ever forget this, Rich” moments.  When you give a pre-concert lecture or host an awards event, there are usually one or two people who rush to the edge of the stage to tell you something, if only “Nice job” or “Now I can connect a face with the voice.”  And it’s always pleasant to hear.  Last night I finished my “Good night” and one attendee immediately leapt out of his seat and rushed over to shake my hand.  You guessed it.  I frankly have no idea what he said, but I know it was favorable because he was smiling broadly.   I did have the presence of mind to ask him “So you were okay with the Norma silliness?”  He replied “Oh yes indeed!  Now I think I do want to try singing ‘Casta Diva!’”

Alas, it was over in an instant and I doubt more than a couple of people saw it happen.  But here’s an offer: If you did witness that hearty handshake, and if you happen to have taken a snap shot of it, I will do your laundry, wash your car and cut your lawn for a year for a copy, no matter how grainy.

~ Rich Capparela

KUSC listener Gershon Hepner frequently responds to our musical selections in poetic form. I mentioned on the air that Arthur Fiedler drew 400,000 people with his July 4, 1976, concert with the Boston Pops on the banks of the Charles River. Mr. Hepner has graciously permitted me to share his lines on the subject.

BOSTON POPS
by Gershon Hepner

When it came to pops
Arthur was the tops.
By Charles’s famous River
Fiedler could deliver
four hundred thousand fans,
more popular than Franz,
or Ludwig, Amadeus,
or Johann, with his players
who loved Boston, common,
untouchable, yet Brahmin,
performing pops, not caviar
for those who were unsavvier
than those whose brows were higher
than Fiedler when on fire.

This week on Arts Alive it’s a feast for the eyes as well as the ears, as we feature some stunning visual art.  And since the view through your radio speakers or headphones probably isn’t so hot, we’ve posted images here on the KUSC blog.  Here, in the order of their appearance on Arts Alive: Nick Cave’s Soundsuits; The Ferus Gallery through the years; and some of the many works of art along LA’s Metro Rail:

 Nick Cave’s Soundsuits:

 

 The Ferus Gallery:

John Mason solo exhibition at Ferus Gallery in 1959. Photo by Robert Bucknam 

 

|

from left: Robert (Bob) Alexander, John Reed, Wallace Berman, Unknown Female and Walter Hopps at Ferus Gallery LA 1959.  

Art on the Metro:

Pershing Square Station, Neons for Pershing Square, Stephen Antonakos, Artist. Courtesy of Metro ©2008 Los Angeles County Metropolitan Transportation Authority

Union Station, LA: City of Angels, Cynthia Carlson, Artist. Courtesy of Metro ©2008 Los Angeles County Metropolitan Transportation Authority

 

Westlake/MacArthur Park Station, El Sol/La Luna, Francisco Letelier, Artist. Courtesy of Metro ©2008 Los Angeles County Metropolitan Transportation Authority

Wilshire/Normandie Station, Festival of Masks Parade, Frank Romero, Artist. Courtesy of Metro ©2008 Los Angeles County Metropolitan Transportation Authority

 

 

For a number of years I participated in the Grammy’s Classical Music Selection Committee.  Don’t get excited, it’s pretty dry stuff.  A group of classical folk gather in a hotel suite and decide which entries go in which category for consideration.  Is a pop singer appearing in a recording of an opera eligible for winning in the crossover category as well as opera?  If twelve players perform a piece but one of them doubles on a second clarinet, does that take it out of the “twelve or less” small ensemble category?  Those aren’t the real categories or decisions, but it should give you an idea of what the process is like. In other words: How many angels can fit on the head of a pin?

A couple of times over the years  I’ve also been asked to host the annual Grammy Salute to Classical Music.  The event’s attendees, held here in Southern California, is a Who’s Who of classical music from this region and around the country.  The last time I hosted the affair the honoree was flutist Sir James Galway.   That year I also got to hand out the classical Grammy’s at the “Pre Tel” event held a few hours before the televised big show.  The Pre Tel is where the vast majority of awards are presented, it’s just that the categories aren’t as sexy as Best Pop Single (Polka record of the year, anyone?).   I even got to attend the Grammy’s themselves that year, which was outrageously cool.  And - just because I like to think of myself as the hardest working man in show business - that same afternoon I recorded a slew of announcements that ran in the Staples Center when the network would cutaway for commercials (“And the winner of best Best Polka Album of the Year was…”).  I blogged about it (way back then in the mid ‘00s we called it “wrote about it,” but that’s another story).

This year the Grammy folks are paying tribute to tenor Placido Domingo.  Once again I’ve been tapped to be the host.  The invitation-only concert/awards ceremony takes place next week at the Broad Stage in Santa Monica.   I will give you an update on the program once it’s happened.  To say that I look forward to hanging out backstage with Domingo would be something of an understatement.

~ Rich Capparela

Giving Out Grammy - 2/8/04
(Reprinted with the kind permission of LARADIO.COM)

For a couple of years Rich Capparela has been helping out as a member of the Grammy Classical selection committee. “That means sitting in a hotel meeting room for a couple of days going through hundreds of submissions to decide if a recording is best categorized as say, chamber music or small ensemble. Male vocal or crossover? That sort of thing,” revealed Rich.

This year Rich was asked to emcee the 8th annual Classical luncheon at the Biltmore. “The Grammys honored flutist Sir James Galway. After I’d agreed to do that, I got a call asking if I would be interested in just a little bit more. It wound up being a highlight in a 32-year career as a dj. Here’s what ‘a little bit more’ involved:

* Pre-recording the 100+ ‘…and the nominees are…’ announcements for the pre-telecast. The pre-tel has traditionally been something of an orphan at the Grammys, even though more than 90 of the 100+ awards are given out at it. This year they did it up right. The pre-tel took place earlier in the afternoon at the Convention Center. It featured a live band, a host, eight presenters, graphics, music performance and a stage. In other words, it was a fully produced 2 1/2 hour pre-Grammy show with nominees in attendance. A very cool event.

* I got to be one of the eight presenters actually opening the envelopes and getting to say ‘…and the Grammy goes to…’ Evidently they’ve had some problems in the past with those obscure Classical pronunciations, so having a Classical dj do it worked well for them. For me, it was a chance to stand in front of an audience ranging from Weird Al Yankovic and Ricky Skaggs to The Blind Boys of Alabama and Foo Fighters and hand out a dozen classical Grammys. What a buzz! And what a challenge to reach across to an audience that I knew, for the most part, didn’t care all that passionately about who got the best Chamber Music Performance Grammy. A little self-deprecating humor goes a long way in a room like that. To stand in front of that much diverse talent for such a joyous purpose. . . .

* Immediately following the Pre-Tel I was whisked up to a room at the Convention Center where I recorded eight or nine sets of recordings announcing all 90+ of the pre-tel winners. I finished about fifteen minutes after the Staples Center telecast began. Then, during the actual CBS telecast when the network went to commercial, screens in Staples Center came down and slides came on with stills of the winners accepting their awards. All the while there was my voice running underneath. It was the loudest I’ve ever heard my voice played back. I was okay with it.

The deal included a pair of tickets for the Grammy show itself. I brought my step-daughter Tehya as my guest. When I finally got to my seat to join her, it turned out to be in row eleven. Row eleven! Tarentino was about five rows ahead and Kenny Loggins was behind us (which, admittedly, says less about me than it does about Kenny Loggins’ career these days). Sarah Jessica Parker kept on walking past us, as did Justin Timberlake and Courtney Love. Amazing.

Rich concluded his Grammy experience with a lasting memory: “The host for the pre-tel was Steve Vai, one of the greatest living rock guitarists. He played on many Zappa albums and just about anywhere else a band needed the ultimate musician. As we were getting ready to start the show Steve asked if the scripted introduction of yours truly was okay or if I wanted to add anything. I told him there was one thing. And so he obliged me by introducing me as ‘The most awesome guitarist I’ve ever heard.’ That got a laugh.”

“I’ve gotten the impression that the Grammy folks might invite me to do this again. Let me think about it for a moment. Okay,” Rich conceded.

At about 12:52p today, 12/20, I’ll play “The Christmas Star,” from John Adams’ nativity oratorio El Nino. The texts Adams uses–in Spanish, Latin, and English–are taken from poems by a diverse array poets ancient to modern and also include passages from the Bible, The New Testament Apocrypha, and The Wakefield Mystery Plays.

“The Christmas Star,” is a fiery poem by the Chilean poet, Gabriela Mistral (1899-1957), who won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1945, the first Latin American writer to be so honored.

The late program annotator, Michael Steinberg, describes Adams’ melding of music and words as follows: “In swift-moving verse [Mistral] evokes the mixed ecstasy and pain of religious revelation. Adams conflates Mistral’s verse with rapturous lines, O quam preciosa (Oh, how precious), by the twelfth-century mystic and writer, Hildegard von Bingen. The music descends from the great crest it has reached, and the last word we hear is “paradisum”: “The tender shoot which is the Virgin’s son has opened Paradise.”

Here’s the poem, by Gabriela Mistral. I hope you enjoy the music this afternoon.

The Christmas Star

A little girl
comes running,
she caught and carries a star.
She goes flying, making the plants
and animals she passes
bend with fire.

Her hands already sizzle,
she tires, wavers, stumbles,
and falls headlong,
but she gets right up with it again.

Her hands don’t burn away,
nor does the star break apart,
although her face, arms,
chest and hair are on fire.

She burns down to her waist.
People shout at her
and she won’t let it go;
her hands are covered with burns
but she won’t release the star.

Oh how she sows its seeds
as it hums and flies.
They try to take it away–
but how can she livewithout her star?

It didn’t simply fall–it didn’t.
It remained without her,
and now she runs without a body,
changed, transformed into ashes.

The road catches fire
and our braids burn,
and now we all receive her
because the entire Earth is burning.

–Gabriela Mistral
Translated by Maria Jacketti (as used in El Nino, by John Adams)

This weekend I’m speaking on the LA Philharmonic’s Upbeat Live! series, introducing a concert that includes The Four Seasons. For the occasion, I’ve brought out a poem I wrote in the last century (inspired by the song “Tchaikovsky” in which Danny Kaye rattled off a lengthy list of Russian composers).

Vivaldi

by

Alan Chapman

• There’s Vivaldi, Frescobaldi, Sammartini and Torelli,
  Rosetti, Dragonetti, Cherubini and Corelli.

  Martucci and Mascagni and Melani and Marini,
  Marenzio, Massenzio, Manzoni and Tartini.
   
  Marcello, Paisiello, Manfredini and Viotti,
  Vicentino, Spinacino, Pellegrini and Scarlatti.

  There’s Locatelli, Gabrieli, Rossi and Rossini,
  And Albinoni, Morricone, Landi and Landini

  There’s Donizetti, Monteverdi, Catalani, Nono,
  Carissimi, Caccini, Valentini, Sonny Bono.

  There’s Peri, Pergolesi, Ponchielli, Paganini,
  Petrassi and Pacini and Piccinni and Puccini.

  Cavalli, Cavallini, Boccherini, Banchieri,
  And the man who murdered Mozart, Mr. Tony Salieri.

  There’s Berio, Respighi, Dallapiccola, Spontini,
  Lazzari and Luzzaschi and Jommelli and Bellini.
  And now you’ve prob’ly had enough,
  So I’ll just call it “fini.”

©1990 by Alan Chapman  All Rights Reserved

As the year comes to an end it’s always a good time to look back on one’s favorite moments, both personal and professional.  In 2009 I experienced both at once.  It happened on November 8th, immediately following the Metropolitan Opera National Council Western Regional Auditions Finals (kinda rolls off the tongue, doesn’t it?).  The event (broadcast on KUSC on December 5) took place in Bovard Auditorium on the campus of the University of Southern California.  The Western Regional Finals are an opportunity for up-and-coming young singers to compete for cash prizes and the chance to perform in the finals onstage at the Metropolitan Opera in New York.  Several of the previous Western Regional participants have gone on to stellar international careers.  The Western Regional Finals are opera’s equivalent to basketball’s Final Four.  A big deal.

The host’s job is to greet the audience and explain the afternoon;  that there are two rounds of performances by the singers.  The first round is an aria chosen by the singer and the second round is an aria chosen by the judges.  Then there’s a second intermission break while the judges do what judges do.  The host introduces each of the arias and basically keeps things moving along.

For me hosting the event for the first time was more than a little sad.  The only reason I’d been asked to do it was because the previous host for some twenty years, my colleague Gene Parrish, had been taken from us by cancer this past January.  Now, Gene wasn’t just a co-worker.  In the quarter century I’d known him, Gene was a beacon of civility and class in a sometimes uncivil, classless world.  His sly sense of humor was priceless and he was a reliably unselfish person.  In other words, I have no clue what he was doing in radio.

When Gene passed away the Metropolitan Opera Western Regional’s Chair Molly Siefert approached me to fill in.  I reluctantly agreed, knowing that 1) I was not going to be able to fill Gene’s shoes and that  2) I could only disappoint the Bovard audience’s expectations.  And so the day came.  I did my best to limp along, acutely aware of the gaping hole that had been left by Gene’s absence from the stage.   The concert was dedicated to Gene’s memory.  His widow Ellie was in attendance and was acknowledged from the stage.   The program began.   The nine singers sang, the judges deliberated and a baritone-turned-countertenor (!) named Nick Zammit won first place.

The concert was immediately followed by a reception in the nearby Town and Gown on the USC campus.   I had interviews to record and people to coordinate things with, but I also found myself meeting and greeting a number of the audience members who wanted to give me their take on the concert and the judges’ choices.  I didn’t get a moment to put down my briefcase and take advantage of the tasty buffet that had been laid out.

And then it happened.  I was in conversation with a couple of opera fans when I sensed another person in our midst.  I turned around to see Ellie Parrish standing next to me.  “When Gene would get to the after-concert reception he would always get so busy that he’d forget to eat,” she said.  “I’d always fix him a plate and make sure he didn’t go hungry.”  And with that she handed me a plate of food, simultaneously showing empathy above and beyond normal human capacity, tacitly giving me her blessing and proving conclusively that Class runs in that family.  I was so taken aback by her gracious gesture that I didn’t properly thank her right then.  Maybe now someone will pass this brief column along to her.  Just so she knows how very much it meant and means to me.  It was, both on a professional level and on a personal level, my happiest moment in 2009.  Thanks Ellie.

~ Rich Capparela

Photo courtesy of Marissa Leon

Somewhere around the second week of November, a sign-up sheet appears at the KUSC front desk.  Bearing the headline “KUSC THANKSGIVING POTLUCK” that sheet is the first sign that it’s nearly time for one of the most anticipated events at KUSC.  Every year, employees from each department arrive at work on the last Friday before Thanksgiving with a plate, bowl or tray of something tasty.

Our convection oven had its work cut out for it this morning, as people starting heating macaroni and cheese, sweet potato and leek gratin, scalloped potatoes, ham, brussels sprouts, stuffing, turkey and all manner of deliciousness around 11 am.  By 12:30, the spread was glorious and a line of starving KUSC-ers (plus our friends at Arts for LA and Arts High with whom we share office space) was forming around the perimeter of the boardroom.

Tongs and serving spoons flew as plates were loaded with a bit of this and a bit of that.

I’m not sure how we managed to keep up such lively chats while simultaneously stuffing our faces, but we at KUSC do prize multi-tasking.

And then it was time for dessert.  I can guarantee you that when a member of the KUSC staff sees that first Thanksgiving supplies display at the grocery store—the one with the rows of canned pumpkin—their first thought is: Jim’s Pumpkin Cheesecake!

Jim Svejda can not only host a great radio program, he can also make a great pumpkin cheesecake.  A really, truly, absolutely, amazingly great pumpkin cheesecake.  If he ever failed to bring this delicacy to our annual potluck… well, our extensive emergency training would probably come in handy.   This year, THE Pumpkin Cheesecake was joined on the dessert table with many delights and everyone found a little more room in their belly to sample the sweets.

And so, weighing several more pounds than we did this morning, we all filtered back to our desks and resumed work, well satisfied by the food and fellowship of another great KUSC Thanksgiving Potluck… and wondering how long those leftovers would remain in the kitchen.

~ Kelsey McConnell