One of the many things I love about youtube is that I can watch artists who passed away long before I ever had a chance to hear them, let alone see them play before my eyes, and experience them visually, however remotely. (But from the comfort of my own home, wearing pajamas, so how can I complain?!). When it comes to popular music, I mostly look for small venue performances, preferably captured on a handheld camera--the video equivalent of the audio bootleg if you will. For Queen and Elliott Smith, though, I will watch anything, from the most precisely produced video--which isn't so typical for Smith, though, it must be said--to the grainiest version of a song I've listened to and watched a hundred different ways, already. Similarly, I'll watch anything I can get my hands on from classical musicians long gone, happy to have a chance to see them in any way I can.
Nothing can ever replace the experience of a live performance, though, especially for classical music--even the most subjectively influenced recording will have a tone of controlled objectivity which, while necessary to the whole concept of recording a piece, takes away that thrill you get when you can watch perfect music being made, rather than just hearing it. That is why I try to see the living musicians I like so much in person as much as I can, so I won't be looking back 40 years from now, a white-haired old lady permanently in pajamas, yelling for someone to come setup whatever youtube's then equivalent will be on whatever the media player of the time is, trying to relive missed chances.
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(I confess, this next section a part cut and paste from an e-mail I just sent, with the addition of a link to an article I mention and some added observations. Complete originality, if you're so inclined, returns in the sections following it.)
Daniel Barenboim is possibly my favorite living pianist and one of my favorite conductors (because of his spontaneous style). He truly enjoys playing music for people. You know how concert etiquette* is that you don't clap in between movements, only at the end of the entire piece, and when someone does clap, the stuffy old-timers attendees shush or snort? Well, at one Barenboim concert at the Kimmel Center, a few years ago, a whole group of us clapped at the end of the first movement of the piece he was playing, etiquette be damned, he played it so superbly. We were immediately shushed by some of the other folk in the audience...until Daniel leaned over to the mic. over the piano and said, "Please, it gives me no greater happiness than to hear you express your joy for music when you feel it...you can even clap as I am playing, if you are so moved!" He was so approachable, too, in the preconcert session.
I really don't know how much of who he was as a husband is depicted truthfully in the movie made about Jacqueline Du Pre, and how he did or didn't care for her during their marriage. I honestly don't care--there is, after all, a different world that geniuses seem to inhabit and rules that they abide by, which I may not agree with but I don't understand, either, so who am I to judge? As a musician, though, I know he cares, and that's all I ask as someone who loves music and wants to hear it played that way, with care.
I am a little weird, in that I like the Rondo/allegro (third) movement best in the Sonata Pathetique; most people go for the first or second movement. Maybe because I learned that first from the whole piece. At any rate, Barenboim on Beethoven. Of course, don't let me stop you from listening to the other two movements.
Sonata Pathetique: Rondo Allegro - Daniel Barenboim
*Side note: there was a really good article in The New Yorker on the development of concert etiquette in their September 8th issue...quite fascinating and not at all how probably most of today's so called classical music lovers and concerts attendees think why it exists! Also fascinating insight into how the difference between concerts and music salons a few hundred years ago and now shaped classical music, as much as the composers did. See here for it. Does it go without saying that I am ordering the Weber text mentioned in the article next month, when I have enough gift certs from my Amazon card to cover it and I am really excited about it? (I am trying to curb impulse buying, you know, otherwise I would have one-clicked it so fast your head would spin)
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(We now return to the original portion of the programme.)
I first learned of Leila Josefowicz in the very early 90s, in fact on my very first trip to the U.S. It would be a few more years until I finally got around to finding and purchasing a recording by her, and several more years after that until I had the great good luck to see her perform.
The performance of a musician is very much a sum of their talent, their dedication, their interpretation, and their persona on stage (and sometimes, but not always, off stage as well). There are a lot of people who like their musicians, especially violinists, more traditional--that is, a coolly elegant and forceful performer who nonetheless has a restrained manner about themselves (though never their music). The straightup, no twist kind of musician. Then there are others who enjoy seeing--and who, in a way, want to see--the musician lose themselves in the force of their performance, and feel heat emanating from the stage.
I personally like both types of musicians, although I am, as with all things classic, very particular about exactly how I like each one and when and how. I do know that I liked Josefowicz's fiery delivery long before I ever saw her live, and that, despite her critics (of her performance style not her virtuosity), I've never felt her showmanship overshadow her skill. When she performed with the then Haddonfield Symphony (now renamed Symphony in C), she was paired with Rossen Milanov--another conductor who puts himself into each and every piece as if his life depended on it (you have never seen a back so expressive; I swear you could read a score simply from the flexing of his shoulders as he'd wave his baton). It's probably the most unabashedly exuberant performance I have ever seen and, in some ways, orgasmic; I am willing to bet at least half of that audience, the majority of whom are usually senior citizens, went home and tore up the sheets that night.
(Coincidentally, if the kid had been a girl--which I was entirely convinced of until, you know, he popped out otherwise, he would've very likely been called Leila Josefa for reasons completely unrelated to the musician. It is sort of funny how he kind of favors her a little in looks, though!)
Here are two examples of her 'younger days', when she was 13 and then 20 years old. Her control in the Paganini piece still takes my breath away everytime I listen to it. (And lord, does the kid really looks like her in this first one, with his hair the same length, ha ha.)
Paganini Violin Concerto No. 2 in B Minor ("La Campanella') - Leila JosefowiczExcerpt from Gypsy Airs - Leila Josefowicz
Incidentally, if you want to compare her to another musician who is hailed/criticized for the same type of passionate/overwrought performances (description depending on whether you are in the pro or con camp), check out Joshua Bell. I've also had the good luck to see him several times live as well and while he is not one of my all time favorites and I don't consider him one of 'the' greats, I definitely do seek out his performances. His heat, so to speak, is of that perfect afternoon warmth kind that lulls you into a nice sense of calm with little jolts of indescribable happiness because things are just right and for no other reason.
Here is an interesting side by side comparison of Bell and Josefowicz playing the same piece, Bruch Violin Concerto No. 1, a lovely romantic piece (of course, the orchestra and venue, not to mention the instrument itself, play such an incredible role in the final product--more on that later.)
Bruch Violin Concerto No.1 in D Minor - Joshua Bell
Bruch Violin Concerto No.1 in D Minor - Leila Josefowicz
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I am not a huge cello fan, but for two years, I looked forward to our Haddonfield subscriptions specifically because of the first chair for cello, a young lady by the name of Yumi Kendall (whose brother had incidentally been the concertmaster the previous years and had graduated on and upwards.) The very first time I saw her, she reminded me of the only [recorded] performance I had of Jacqueline Du Pre up to that point; Yumi was still too, not too young, no, but untouched (either by life experience or that little touch of insanity that marks the real geniuses, as I mentioned before) to really be even comparable, but something about her evoked the same tantalizing balance of delight and depression I got from Du Pre. I've been watching her career with a lot of enthusiasm--once she graduated from the teaching orchestra, she went on to join the Philadelphia Orchestra as associate principal and was even principal for one concert* her very first season, which speaks volumes for her talent. Definitely someone to keep an eye on.
*The concert was the wonderfully witty Every Good Boy Deserves Favor by Tom Stoppard (music by Andre Previn) performed by the Wilma Theatre and Philadelphia Orchestra several years ago. If you ever have the chance to see it performed, jump at it, although personal bias towards the Wilma makes me think their coupling with the Philadelphia Orchestra was too perfect to be repeated elsewhere (incidentally conducted for that by Rossen Milanov, who is also assistant conductor for the PhilaOrch).
Jesus, you really can find anything on youtube. It's definitely not showcasing her talent to its best (she really shines as a soloist), but at least you get an idea, especially if you watch the last three and a half minutes or so.
Beasts by Charles Abramovic - Dolce Suono (including Yumi Kendall)
