bosiemoncrieff
Headphoneus Supremus
Just had the flu for a week, and suffered through it to see the Schumann piano concerto Friday night at the symphony.
It turns out I'm a Schumann piano concerto snob (shocker) and there's nothing I hate more than when it gets too slow — almost invariably, the slowness can't escape sentimentality. The finale especially needs a muscular fleetness to really come off. The rest was viennese "show pieces" that got more humorous as the evening wore on - with silly percussion that sounded like birds and was reminiscent of circuses, with multicolored umbrellas, and finally with a percussionist serving champagne to the concertmaster, taking her seat, and reading the paper - all while throwing a lakers jersey on the ground and holding up a warriors shirt.
The ballet trio on Saturday was interesting. The Balanchine was technically excellent but emotionally vacant. The tutus were excessive, and I would have preferred to hear the Mozart divertimento 15 without accompaniment. Second act, set to Beethoven's Appassionata, was slow to get started and weird with all three couples but better when it got down to two dancers. The third was set to Hurry Up We're Dreaming, the French electronic pop album, and though I would probably not ever have listened to the music otherwise, the dancers in their sneakers and street clothes were wonderful. Justin Peck may be the next ballet master in chief in New York - and deserve it.
It turns out I'm a Schumann piano concerto snob (shocker) and there's nothing I hate more than when it gets too slow — almost invariably, the slowness can't escape sentimentality. The finale especially needs a muscular fleetness to really come off. The rest was viennese "show pieces" that got more humorous as the evening wore on - with silly percussion that sounded like birds and was reminiscent of circuses, with multicolored umbrellas, and finally with a percussionist serving champagne to the concertmaster, taking her seat, and reading the paper - all while throwing a lakers jersey on the ground and holding up a warriors shirt.
The ballet trio on Saturday was interesting. The Balanchine was technically excellent but emotionally vacant. The tutus were excessive, and I would have preferred to hear the Mozart divertimento 15 without accompaniment. Second act, set to Beethoven's Appassionata, was slow to get started and weird with all three couples but better when it got down to two dancers. The third was set to Hurry Up We're Dreaming, the French electronic pop album, and though I would probably not ever have listened to the music otherwise, the dancers in their sneakers and street clothes were wonderful. Justin Peck may be the next ballet master in chief in New York - and deserve it.