“Listening to great music on a phonograph record is like getting kissed over the telephone,” said a famous musician in the 1960s.
Quite apart from the fact that this analogy is demonstrably flawed — a kiss, to be a kiss, depends on the touch of his or her lips on yours; listening to music does not require physical contact between musician and listener — the assumptions underlying it are calloused and elitist.
Ninety-eight percent of my musical experiences — good, bad, or indifferent — came to me from vinyl. I have been a passionate music lover since early youth, but until I came to Santa Barbara and my work as a journalist gained me the privilege of free passes, I attended almost no live concerts.
I was raised, I raised myself, on vinyl. For me, the choice between buying a ticket to the local symphony, and eight Nonesuch disks, was, as they would say now, a no-brainer. And I will match my appreciation of music with anybody’s.
To be sure, if you have the money and the proximity to a good performing ensemble, then there is often a special magic that comes from being in the same room with the musicians as they play, in what used to be called “real time.”
I have had transcendent experiences in the Granada, the Arlington, the Lobero, Campbell Hall, and many other local venues, and I will remember them always. Yet, at the height of my career as a critic and reviewer, I still listened to exponentially more recorded music than live.
The virtues of live performance are subjective, ineffable; the virtues of recordings are more readily discussed.
For one thing, the choice of what you hear is completely up to you; for another, recorded performances are more reliable, although, admittedly, the fifth take of a passage is seldom as inspired as the first, or even the fourth — call it the law of diminishing returns. You can also hear a work, or any part of it, again and again, any time you want.
This last is quite important if you seek to expand your tastes. Many works do not yield their treasures on the first hearing, Beethoven no less than Schoenberg.
Modern works, particularly, require several hearings before they begin to sound like music. And, when you hear something that thrills you, that seems, as Dylan wrote, “like it was written on my soul/from me to you” — well, naturally, you want to hear it again, immediately.
In the 18th and 19th centuries, audiences would often call for the repeat of movements, and the musicians would usually oblige. Now, not so much, although if we asked Adrian Spence or Nir Kabaretti, who knows?
Which brings me to the pandemic, and our darkened concert halls. This has been a devastating blow to all Americans.
Like so many of our fellow citizens in non-artistic fields, performing artists are in some danger of losing not only their lives (a danger they can reduce considerably by taking the proper precautions), but also their livelihoods (about which they can, for the moment, do very little).
Nevertheless, we can observe, in our local community of performers, at least two positive products of the crisis:
First, ensembles and individuals they have displayed a passionate intention to stay in touch with us that is both admirable and inspiring.
Second, they have, by leaping nimbly onto the internet, managed to keep performing for us, making high-quality audio-video transcriptions of their performances, streaming them live at specific times, then archiving them on their websites, which the public can access when it is convenient.
Thirty years ago, this would have been impossible.
Here is a sample of the great work going forward by our performing arts organizations.
Westmont College Music Department
» The Westmont College Music Department, under the direction of Michael Shasberger, has been presenting its Friday Concert Series for a couple of months now, and is doing quite well with it.
As the name implies, the concerts are first live-streamed at 7 p.m. Fridays, at https://vimeo.com/showcase/westmontmusic, then archived at the same web address.
» A recent event, the first Alumni Spotlight recital, featured alumna Sarah Shasberger Pfister (2012), with the Carnevale String Quartet from Bulgaria, performing a piece by Bulgarian composer Marin Goleminov, as well as works by Ennio Morricone, Gabriel Fauré, Gioachino Rossini, Ludwig Beethoven and Wolfgang Mozart.
When I watched it, the concert began with Fauré’s exquisite “Pavanne,” beautifully rendered in a chamber version, and the rest of the music was worthy of the opener.
» An even more recent Friday concert (in fact, Oct. 23) featured Shasberger conducting the Westmont Orchestra under the Big Tent in An Orchestral Sampler. The players were masked, with bell covers on their instruments, and Shasberger conducted the orchestra behind a face shield.
“Our great delight in presenting these video programs is the opportunity to be together to make music, even outside in a tent with crickets chirping, wind blowing, a range of temperatures and cars passing by,” Shasberger said.
“Working remotely with various online platforms for the first month of school was challenging in many good and difficult ways,” he said. “We learned a great deal, particularly the value of being together.”
The program includes Felix Mendelssohn’s “Fingal’s Cave Overture;” Mary D. Watkins’ “Soul of Remembrance;” Edvard Grieg’s “Piano Concerto in a-minor (Mvt 3);” with sophomore Emma Mitchell on piano, and Philip Stern’s “Arches Over Water.”
Camerata Pacifica
Camerata Pacifica, under the perfect-pitch leadership of Adrian Spence, has been streaming its Concerts@Home every Sunday for more than six months, then tucking the concerts into its archive for those who have issues with being on time (like yours truly).
We can watch our beloved favorites — Warren Jones, Ani Aznavoorian, Richard O’Neill, Adrian Spence, and the rest of the usual suspects, plus many great guests we haven’t yet had a chance to hear.
Spence and the Cameratans are also planning to ease into live performances before live audiences, when things get better enough to do so.
“Our eager musicians have come up with the idea for CoronaConcerts, with great solo programs they’ve created for you, to be presented when it is safe to do so,” Spence said. “That means, you don’t see dates here — these concerts will pop-up when it’s safe to present them, and you’ll be notified seven to 10 days before they take place.
“Make sure we have your email address. These will be outdoor performances, the venues chosen for their supportive acoustics. Mask wearing will be mandatory, and social distancing strictly observed. For that reason, attendance will be very limited.
“We will be prepared to offer repeat performances, hopefully to ensure everyone who would like to attend will be able to do so.”
Concerts@Home are live-streamed to YouTube & Facebook at 10 a.m. Pacific Time. From 11.30 a.m. the performances will be available to view at your pleasure at the Concerts@ Home archive link https://www.youtube.com/cameratapacifica.
For all relevant Camerata facts and links, visit https://cameratapacifica.org/.
Meanwhile, the Santa Barbara Symphony has seguéd the Sundays with the symphony streamings into its reimagined 2020-21 season, which began Oct. 17 with Cabaret with Kabaretti.
Treat yourselves to seeing and hearing the symphony family (and friends) with a click on https://thesymphony.org/watch-listen/sundays-with-the-symphony/.
Ojai’s Chamber on the Mountain
Finally (for now), I am plased to note that Ojai’s Chamber on the Mountain has moved into the online concert field.
“We are pleased to announce,” the chamber says “that we are moving ahead with a virtual performance by Hanzhi Wang, in order for Chamber On The Mountain to continue sharing wonderful artists — and to survive into the future.
“We hope you will join us and continue supporting our programming until we are able to offer in-person performances again.”
The virtual performance began Oct. 4, and will be viewable for 30 days for ticket holders. For more information, visit http://www.chamberonthemountain.com/.
— Gerald Carpenter covers the arts as a Noozhawk contributing writer. He can be reached at gerald.carpenter@gmail.com. The opinions expressed are his own.