Classic Behavior

The Friends is presenting performances this year based on three different famous literary sources—Judith, Beowulf, and Don Quixote de la Mancha. I’m working my way through them so I know what’s going on in the performances.
I read Beowulf first—the Seamus Heaney translation. I love words and the astounding craft that the original poet used with his sophisticated poetic devices in that Olde English was mesmerizing to me. Heaney’s attempt to recreate the use of the same devices in his translation, while still keeping the spirit and meaning of the words, was even more fascinating to me than the story itself. But the story is also captivating—a man who volunteers to fight a horrible sea monster who is killing many people in a far-off land.
I read Judith second. Being a Protestant, it isn’t part of my canon but I found the Biblical words of faith and heroism inspiring and familiar. A woman who volunteered for certain death to save her people.
I’m reading Don Quixote last. All, what, gazillion pages of it? I can sing songs from “The Man of La Mancha” from my childhood (in fact during the often-painful process of editing and compiling the Friends’ season program book, I confess to humming “To Dream the Impossible Dream” over many times!), and I’m finding the book charming. The other night when my husband and I were reading, I think he was a bit disturbed because while he was trying to learn about the layers of inner wisdom or something, I kept guffawing out loud over this self-declared “knight errant” and his mad pursuit of imaginary enemies while seeking glory for his equally-imaginary love, Dulcinea. Off he rides on his consumptive horse followed by his paunchy, needfully-stupid peasant-cum-squire who is riding along behind on his mule. A madman charging at windmills in his private effort to make the world a better place.
It’s struck me how much alike the themes of these three classic works are. These are pieces of literature hundreds or thousands of years old and they’ve not only lived but thrived. And directly inspired thousands of other works of art and music—even movies—and the lives of millions of people all over the world. All three of them portray a solitary individual—not a government, a profession, or even a club—but one person who voluntarily put their own life on the line to save the lives of other people. And none of them were expected to perform those deeds—none of them were even asked. One was in another country; one was a woman (!); and one was an old madman. But each of them felt that they were the only person in the world to do a certain very important job, and each of them stepped up to the plate.
I think that’s a classic lesson for all of us.

A Connection from the Past

I was looking for a CD the other day and I came across the first CDs that I ever bought. I was roughly 10 years old and received a CD player for Christmas. It was the new wave in technology which, although I may be young, amazes me as to how far technology has come since then. Anyway, I remember having a little bit of money left over from Christmas. I suffered from the “money burning a hole in my pocket disease,” and I needed to purchase at least one CD for my new possession.

My dad took me to Best Buy and I found the box set of Beethoven’s Complete Piano Works on sale. This was even more appealing to me because I hadn’t discovered my eclectic taste for music yet and I could get more CDs for the price of one. I remember playing those CD’s so much that if my new CD player could speak it would have said “Enough!”

So when I saw those CDs the other day I, serving in my current position of employment, couldn’t help but to look to see who the artist was who introduced me to the works of Beethoven. It was none other than Dubravka Tomsic, a pianist who has appeared with The Friends often and become a Kansas City favorite.

I had come full circle yet again. Thank you to Ms. Tomsic for planting the seeds for my future.

Back to School...

Outside is getting cooler, the air is crisp and the days are getting shorter. Yes, fall is definitely knocking on our doors. While many families and students prepare for another school year and the familiar rhythms that it brings your local arts organizations are also preparing for another full season of exhilarating, live performing art.

Your friends at The Friends are no exception. We have been working busily over the summer to prepare for you what I believe is one of the most exciting seasons in our history. Over the summer we decided the season theme for the year (in this case its “An Epic Journey Awaits You”), mapped out a “look and feel” that embraced all the concerts for the season and then began plotting out advertisements and direct mail pieces that announced the season’s concerts and theme. This was an extremely creative and fun process but the real fun began when the phone started ringing because the advertisements had done their job!
The tickets, oh the tickets. This is a big part of preparing for a full season of concerts to begin. Tickets typically go on sale for the new season in the spring and then by August it is time to mail out all the orders for the year. All arts organizations go through a mad ticket stuffing frenzy during August to quickly try to get the much-adored tickets out to our patrons. Being new to box office management I found this process to be frantic . Once we got our tickets mailed out I held my breath praying that I did not make any mistakes. I can let out a big sigh of relief now. Tickets are in the hands of our patrons with very few hiccups and now I can anticipate our “Epic Journey” beginning in just a few short weeks. Be sure to join us for the first concert on October 3!

Politics of Politics: Fretwork Recreates the Cosmopolitan Vision of ca. 1600

In 1540, Henry VIII requisitioned musicians from Italy to compose and perform at his court. Two families came—they were not only Italian but clandestine Jews (marranos, or nominally converted ‘New Christians’). The Lupo and the Bassano families thrived in England and served the monarchy for over a century. Yesterday, the ensemble Fretwork performed a program of their music, ‘Birds on Fire: Jewish Musicians in the English Court,’ at Wigmore Hall in London:

• Augustine Bassano: Pavan and Galliard No. 1;


• Heironymus Bassano: Fantasia No. 1 in 5 parts;


• Joseph Lupo: Pavan in 5 parts;


• Thomas Lupo: Two Fantasias in 6 parts; Pavan in 3 parts*; Fantasia for three trebles;


• Fantasy for three basses; Fantasia in 6 parts; Two Fantasias in 6 parts;


• Van Wilder: Fantasia, con e senza pause (“Emmentaler vs. Gruyere”);


• Duarte: Two Symphonies in 5 parts;


• Salmone Rossi: Hashkivenu; Shir hamma’ a lot (Psalm 128);


• Gough: Birds on Fire;


• Various: A suite of dances from the Lumley Part Books: Desperada, Pavan and Gallyard,

The program notes assert that these pieces illustrate the cosmopolitan atmosphere of the Tudor and Stuart courts, drawing upon the idioms of Franco-Flemish or Italian music. Although the Jews had been banished from the kingdom of England since 1290, the Italian-Jewish Bassano and Lupo families became composer dynasties, dominating English music between 1550 and 1650. But this program is, I think, far more than nominally ‘cosmopolitan.’ It is a story of international relations and the perennial pitfalls of international politics. Click here to read more...

Cutting Hours Makes Dollars and Sense

As someone in the field of arts administration, I’m always interested to learn how arts organizations manage and cope with the challenges they face. In the August 30 Kansas City Star, the article announcing that The Nelson-Atkins Museum will close on Tuesdays in order to save costs caught my eye. Before this change, the museum’s doors were closed to the public on Mondays only, a schedule followed by many visual arts institutions.

The Nelson-Atkins continues to be free of charge to the public, except for some special exhibitions. The article mentions the Tuesday closing as a way to help maintain free admission, a big part of the museum’s mission.

Other institutions could easily claim that the economy is just too weak right now to justify having a museum that’s free of charge. My cousin, who works at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, visited Kansas City recently and took a trip to the Nelson-Atkins – she was greatly impressed, and couldn’t believe that she didn’t have to pay a dime to get in! She was curious as to how such a large institution could run without admission revenue, even given the generous support that it receives from private and government funders. Museums and other cultural institutions exist for the benefit of the public – how nice that the Nelson-Atkins’ benefits can be enjoyed free of charge.

Arts organizations must make many difficult decisions and compromises in order to stay afloat. I applaud the museum’s decision to decrease their hours, rather than increase admission costs, in order to survive in these challenging times.

Can't Wait!

We’re very close to the beginning of our season now, which means my artist juggling is intensifying. One of my duties is taking care of our musicians—that’s working with the agents and artists to ensure that our musicians are well taken care of and have everything they need for their trip and stay here. Who needs how many hotel rooms? (And who shares rooms with whom? ;-) Do they need a babysitter for any children travelling with them? What chairs and lighting will they need on the stage? Does the cellist want a piano bench or straight-backed chair? Who has dietary needs for receptions and dinners? Who might have medical needs? Who needs transportation and who doesn’t? (I drive a Grand Prix—who’s going to drive them all with their luggage and instruments?)

But also when it gets to this time of the year, and most of that work is done, I look forward to being with the artists themselves. I love spending time with them (well, most of them—I admit there are a couple I’ve met I’d rather just hit with a rock!). The vast majority of them are extremely nice and down-to-earth. We have the same kinds of conversations one would have with any other acquaintance. We talk about our families, our homes, politics, our hobbies. I find that the younger ones are often very excited about travelling and being on our prestigious series. They like to hear about Kansas City if they haven’t been here, and often plan to enjoy the Bar-B-Que, the Plaza, and maybe KC jazz while they’re here. The more experienced ones sometimes have travelled for so many years that they’re very appreciative of just a little extra effort and a smile. And when they return on the series, they greet you like old friends.

The first concert’s right around the corner! There are other duties coming I’d rather do without, but spending time with the artists—can’t wait!

Passion is the Most Important Ingredient

One of my favorite scenes from the film Amadeus is when Salieri says, “All I wanted was to sing to God. He gave me that longing... and then made me mute. Why? Tell me that. If He didn't want me to praise him with music, why implant the desire? … And then deny me the talent?”
That scene reminded me a little of my life and my relationship with music. Perpetuating our societal stereotype I haven’t got a rhythmic bone in my body. I’ve tried to play piano and after two years I was only able to choke my way through “When the Saints Go Marching In.” After many years of singing in choirs and 4 years of intense classical training I can technically sing very well, but the sound? Well, let’s just say that The Friends won’t be presenting my work anytime soon. Despite the obstacles before me I have always had a passion for music. A lot of that passion came from an unlikely source.
I served as cantor once when I was in high school. The nerves of singing solo in front of roughly a thousand people definitely were present but despite nearly choking on butterflies I made it through getting a “thumbs up” from my psyche. The week after cantering I received a letter from the parish priest telling me that I should focus on the talents that God had given me and not singing. This crushed me. In spite of those discouraging words however, my passion grew stronger. I took voice lessons, plunked away on the keys of the piano, and I continue to perform a full concert while driving or taking a shower. I’ve actually grown to thank that priest.
My talent was and may not be the best but like Salieri music is my greatest desire. Sure that person wasn’t very nice to me, but looking back he made me love music even more. Talent is important but without passion there would be no need for art.