Italian Passages VIII: Arrivederci Roma

 

[The eighth and last in an irregular series of commentaries on Minnesota Public Radio’s  Italian Passages classical music-themed cruise and tour of Italy, celebrating the 30th anniversary of the network's daily live concert program, Performance Today and led by PT host Fred Child.]

Thursday, June 8th, was the tour’s one and only full day in Rome.  It was also the final day of our tour and therefore a cause of mixed emotions.  On the one hand, we had a long and often informative walking tour that morning that hit many (but not nearly enough) of the Eternal City’s notable sights.  On the other hand, it meant we would say farewell to our traveling companions of the past ten days, many of whom we had come to know well and whose life stories proved to be fascinating and varied.

Still, it was fun to visit places my wife and I had previously known only as movie backgrounds, including the Piazza di Spagna with its famous steps (three flights, in honor of the Holy Trinity) and the Trevi Fountain, immortalized in the concert hall by Respighi in his Fountains of Rome and in popular song by the 1955 Jule Styne/Sammy Cahn hit "Three Coins in the Fountain" from the film of the same name.  I wish our walking tour had included more of Rome’s Greatest Hits, such as the Forum or the Colosseum, but as we were all a bit footsore by the end (four miles on my Fitbit!), perhaps it was just as well to save these for another time.  As it was, we finished the morning and early afternoon with a leisurely lunch at La Carbonara, the restaurant that invented the famous pasta dish that bears its name, and had the rest of the afternoon to rest our tired tootsies before the final big event of the tour: the closing concert of the Rome Chamber Music Festival.

Founded back in 2003 by the noted American violinist Robert McDuffie, the festival has had many homes over the years.  Since 2012 it has taken place in the Baroque splendor of the seventeenth century Palazzo Barberini.  Located atop the Quirinal Hill (the highest of Rome’s fabled seven hills), the palazzo is an imposing edifice, with a curving marble staircase that leads to the concert venue, the massive Gran Salone, with its cheerfully pagan ceiling fresco, The Triumph of Divine Providence by Pietro da Cortona (pictured). After many days of overdosing on sculpture and paintings of what a friend once dubbed “martyr porn,” it was a welcome sight.

As Mr. McDuffie notes in the program book, the festival “includes at least one work of an American composer each year, but its identity adheres to a true international ideal by inviting musicians from all over the world.”  Thursday night’s concert was a demonstration of that ideal, with works by Beethoven and Saint-Saëns as well as the first movement the String Quintet by American bassist Edgar Meyer.  The musicians themselves were mostly Italian, although there were players from Germany, Japan and the United States as well.

Mr. Meyer’s work, which opened the program, was an ingratiating series of increasingly creative variations on a simple five-note theme that had, to my ears, a strong feel of Appalachian folk song.  It got what must surely be the definitive performance, with Mr. Meyer playing bass and leading the ensemble of  violinists Harry Ward and George Meyer (son of the composer), violist Daniele Valabrega, and cellist Atticus Mellor-Goldman.

It was interesting to contrast Mr. Meyer’s use of folk-inspired material with the Beethoven Piano Quartet in E-flat major, Op. 16, which followed.  The Grave introduction of the first movement is weighty enough (and reminiscent of the slow introductions in Haydn’s later symphonies), but the Allegro ma non troppo that follows is a jolly little waltz that would not be out of place in a dance hall.  And the main theme of the final 6/8 Rondo has a kind of “hunting song” feel to it.  Written when Beethoven was young and just starting to make a name for himself, the work has, at least to my ears, some echoes of the countryside so beloved by the composer throughout his life.

The quartet got a fine performance from festival artists Elena Matteucci on piano and Luca Sanzò on viola, along with Young Artist Program members Gaia Trionfera on violin and Calvin Wong on cello.  The younger players worked so seamlessly with the more experienced professionals that it would probably have been impossible to tell them apart had I been inexplicably blindfolded.

The concert ended with a somewhat quirky version of the popular Carnival of the Animals by Saint-Saëns. The composer wrote the piece primarily for the private amusement of his musical friends and explicitly banned its public performance during his lifetime, afraid that it might eclipse his more serious work in popularity.  Subsequent history has apparently proved him correct.

Originally scored for an eleven-player ensemble that included two pianos, xylophone, and glass harmonica, Carnival of the Animals is often heard in a full orchestra arrangement, so it was fun to see it done live with the original instrumentation, even if a glockenspiel played the role of the rather rare glass harmonica.  What made this performance truly remarkable, though, was the inclusion of special lighting effects and film clips projected on the rear wall of the house, along with dancing by Chiara Giancaterina in the final two movements.

The choice of movie segments was often humorous, frequently contrasting animals and humans to the detriment of the latter.  For the “Turtles” movement, or example, images of graceful sea turtles gliding through the water were juxtaposed with slow-motion shots of people clumsily splashing around at the beach, while “Hens and Roosters” alternated between cartoon chickens and 1950s beauty contest participants.   The famous “Swan” movement alternated elegant footage of the bird itself with clips from Swan Lake, with added visual stimulus from Ms. Giancaterina’s athletic dancing, which seemed to parody the images being shown behind her.

It was, frankly, all a bit much.  In the final analysis, I felt that the visuals tended to distract from the music more than support and enhance it.  At one point I simply began to tune it out so I could concentrate on the virtuoso performances on stage.  The audience loved it, though, bringing everyone back for an encore of the final movement, visuals and all.

And then, alas, it was all over and time for us to wend our way down the marble stairs and pile into our taxis for a somewhat wild ride through the Roman night, making our way through the city’s notoriously unnerving traffic and streets clogged with revelers who seemed oblivious to the fact that the human body is in no position to argue with an automobile.  Some of the group continued their travels but, as far as Italian Passages and this series of blog posts goes, this was the end.  And a fitting one it was.

Italian Passages VII: Here Comes the Sun

 

[The seventh in an irregular series of commentaries on Minnesota Public Radio’s  Italian Passages classical music-themed cruise and tour of Italy, celebrating the 30th anniversary of the network's daily live concert program, Performance Today and led by PT host Fred Child.]

Italy’s A1 Autostrada (a superhighway, roughly the equivalent of an interstate highway in the USA) connects Milan with Naples via Bologna, Florence, and Rome. It’s the longest Italian superhighway and is considered the spinal cord of the country's road network.  It’s known as the “Autostrada del Sole” (“Highway of the Sun”) because of its termination the sunny south, but for most of our journey yesterday, it could just as easily have been called the “Autostrade delle Montagne” (“Highway of the Mountains”) since almost all of the first part of our trip (which ended in Rome that night) involved travel into the mountainous region around the town of Montepulciano. There we had a splendid lunch amid the spectacular vistas available from this hamlet, perched nearly 2000 feet above sea level atop limestone cliffs in the southern Tuscan province of Siena.

The drive to and from Montepulciano is a reminder of why this area of Italy holds such fascination for tourists from all over the world. Each turn of the road revealed yet another stunning view of vineyards with their orderly rows of grapes, lavish forests (protected from clear cutting by law), and mountain towns with their ochre walls and red roofs clinging precariously to steep slopes.  Montepulciano itself is a good example, with the city center accessible only via narrow, winding streets, to which access via automobile appears to be limited to inhabitants.

The core week of Italian Passages ended this past Sunday, June 4th, in Venice with the departure of Fred Child, resident violinist Anthea Kreston, and about two-thirds of the original tour group for various destinations. Fred, for example, was off the Fort Worth for the final round of the Cliburn International Piano Competition while Anthea returned to rehearsals with her quartet.  My wife and I opted for the Rome extension, so that morning we joined our fellow travelers for lunch in the picturesque hill town of San Gimignano, followed by three nights in the resort city of Montecatini.  The last few days, as a result, have been more about food, wine, and scenery than about music.

We did, however, have an exceptionally pleasant day Monday (June 5th) in the towns of Lucca and Torre del Lago learning about the life and legacy of one of Italy’s most justifiably famous operatic composers, Giacomo Puccini.  Led by Italian opera baritone and Lucca resident Mattia Campetti, the agenda included a personal tour of the Puccini museum and the town of Lucca (which prides itself on its devotion to music of all kinds, including jazz and rock; the Rolling Stones will be playing there in September) as well as the home Puccini built for himself on the shores of Torre del Lago.

For me, the Lucca part of the day was the highlight.  Despite its historical significance as the place where Puccini composed nearly all of his operas, the house in Torre del Lago didn’t strike me as all that interesting, and the guided tour quickly began to sound more like hagiography than anything else (“In this room you can see Giacomo’s actual boots..”).  I was reminded that this was the country that effectively invented sainthood.

Lucca, with its rich heritage, intact medieval wall (built to withstand an invasion that never happened), and more churches than you can shake an incense burner at, has much more to offer the culturally-inclined tourist.  Plus, we got an excellent lunch at a restaurant built right on top of the city wall, followed by a recital of opera arias at the nearby rehearsal hall by Mr. Campetti, his ravishing and talented operatic soprano wife Michelle Buscemi, and pianist Nicola Pardini.

From the moment Ms. Buscemi entered from the back of the house with “O mio babbino caro” from Puccini’s one-act comedy Giannini Schicci (with Mr. Campetti as the grumpy Giannini) to the classic “O Sole Mio” that closed the brief recital, Mr. Campetti and company had us all in the palms of their very capable hands.  Ms. Buscemi rather stole the show with her “Un bel di” from Madama Butterfly as did Mr. Campetti with his “Non più andrai” from Mozart’s Le Nozze di Figaro.  And all three joined in the fun in “Quando me’n vo” (a.k.a “Musetta’s Waltz”) from La Bohème.

Tuesday, June 5th, most of our group went on a walking tour of Firenze (Florence to us Anglophones).  My wife and I opted out and instead took the funicular up to the village of Montecatini Alto at the top of the nearby hill.  We were rewarded with a quiet walk around the steep little streets and and many panoramic views of the surrounding countryside.  Next to one of them was a quote from Verdi: “Ecco è più splendidi panorami che io abbbia mai visto” (roughly, “Here is the most splendid landscape that I have ever seen.”). You said it, Giuseppe!

Italian Passages I: Andiamo!

The Last Supper in situ

[The first in an irregular series of commentaries on Minnesota Public Radio's Italian Passages classical music-themed cruise and tour of Italy, celebrating the 30th anniversary of the network's daily live concert program, Performance Today and led by PT host Fred Child.]

Italian Passages began in Milan with an impressive high-end dinner last night at our hotel, the Rosa Grand , followed the next day by a whirlwind tour of Il Duomo, the famed Gothic cathedral, followed in turn by a backstage tour of La Scala (including a quick trek through the museum), a viewing of The Last Supper, and a bus tour of some of the city's notable neighborhoods.

We had seen the Duomo before, so for us the highlights of the day were a quick glimpse of a rehearsal of the Franco Zeffirelli production of La Boheme at La Scala (which uses a remarkable two-level set) and the Da Vinci masterpiece. We've all seen pictures of it, but viewing the work in its original setting—a modest monastery—emphasized the revolutionary nature of Da Vinci's painting. For its time, it is startlingly realistic and filled with the kind of details that are lacking in the works of his contemporaries. You can see the reflections of the robes of the disciples in the metal plates, for example, or catch a glimpse of dinnerware through a glass bottle.

Back at the hotel, we were treated to Prosecco and then a brief but highly varied and entertaining recital by Roberto Plano, who was born in Italy but now teaches in Boston. Fred Child prefaced the concert by praising the wide range of Mr. Plano's performance style, and the program that followed fully validated that praise. Opening with a delicate Mozartian Andante by Andrea Luchesi—a once-famous contemporary Mozart who has now become a historical footnote—Mr. Plano the moved on to the Olympian drama of the opening "Invocation" from Liszt's Harmonies poétiques et religieuses, shifting musical gears with the ease of a seasoned Grand Prix driver. Next was a limpid Respighi Notturno (from his Six Pieces for Piano from 1904), followed by Black Earth by the Turkish composer/pianist Fazil Say, in which the pianist imitates the sound of a Turkish lute by damping individual strings with his fingers.

The concert concluded with a virtuoso run through Ginastera's Suite de Danzas Criollas and a wildly jazzy selection from Friedrich Gulda's Play Piano Play. For me, though, one of the high points was Mr. Plano's demonstration of his ingenious technical solution to the problem of producing a piano transcription of Tárrega's moving Recuerdos de La Alhambra. The guitar original calls for the performer to repeatedly strike a single string with the ring, middle, and index fingers (a tecnique known as tremolo), producing an ethereal combination of pizzicato and legato. Mr. Plano's arrangement has the pianist repeatedly striking the same key the first time through and then, on the repeat, rapidly alternating notes an octave apart using the thumb and little finger (also known as tremolo). You can see a video demonstration on the Performance Today Facebook page.

After which it was off to bed because the next day promised to be (and was) eventful. But that's another story.