YouOverThere

I agree with the article. The last couple of times that I went to the symphony, the conductor didn't even have music for the last piece.

Hopefully, you will get a chance to hear the concerto sometime. I'd be interested in your take. I've only gotten one other opinion, from the girlfriend of the guy who organizes our hiking club trips to the symphony (hey, it's a long walk from the parking garage to the concert hall, and then there's all those steps to climb...), and I asked her because I was pretty sure what she would say.

You are lucky, YouOverThere. The NPR station in my neck of the woods plays very little classical music any more. I can't vouch for what they do the other 166.5 hours of the week.

He certainly can play incredibly fast. The concerto really isn't a typical "crossover" work. There isn't anything overtly bluegrass in it. It was more a case of a musician who wanted to try his hand at a different genre. I imagine the concerto will eventually show up on NPR (Colorado Public Radio frequently re-plays parts of Colorado Symphony Orchestra concerts, so it would have been recorded). This piece would not be classified as "neo-baroque", so I'm guessing that there would be lots of difference.

I thought that I'd mention the performance of a new mandolin concerto by a mandolin player named Chris Thiles, since it is apparently going to be performed in 6 other cities (including Los Angeles - by the Los Angeles Chamber Orchestra - and Portland) during the 2009-10 season. The Colorado Symphony premiered it, with the composer as the soloist, during an all-American program (which featured a very intense performance of Copland's Billy the Kid - do any dance companies ever perform it any more?). This was yet another case in which the critics and I totally disagreed. The concerto got great reviews - The Denver Post critic even called it "astounding" and dared to mention the composer in the same breath as Mozart. I found it painfully tedious, just a series of ultra-fast mandolin riffs while the orchestra impersonated a mellotron. I was briefly surprised when I looked at my program after the concert and saw that there were 3 movements; then I remembered that there had been 2 pauses. I hadn't noticed any differences. But the critics assured the readers that there were, one even stating that "What was impressive was that this movement showed the depth of understanding of what a symphony orchestra is capable of". It's hard to believe that we were listening to the same piece of music!

I'm all in favor of having a minimum age for performances. In Denver, some theatre companies do this (typically 6 years old) but none of the dance or music organizations do (at least none of those that I attend). It's become increasingly common for people to bring infants to the symphony (even if they aren't playng any Mozart), which perplexes me. The best case scenario is that the parents will notice the warning signs before the actually crying commences, but that still means that one of them will have to hang out in the lobby for 3/4 of the concert.

I see that they have Dwight Rhoden's Ave Maria scheduled instead of the "assorted solos and pas de deux" in the season-opening program. I don't know if I confused the announcement for this program with the announcement for the Aug. 21 program or if they changed the line-up.

The Colorado Ballet staged a little "appetizer" on Friday (8/21) at the Arvada Center, an arts complex in the northwest 'burbs which has an outdoor theatre with probably 6-700 seats backed by lawn seating with room for several hundred. The program consisted mostly of solos and duets, highlighted by the "white swan" pas de deux and Antony Tudor's Leaves are Falling (and included a couple of works by members of the company), but for a finale they re-staged Amy Seiwart's Things Left Unsaid which had been part of last season's The Repertory Series. Things Left Unsaid, is subtle and understated, as would be expected for a piece set to Mendelssohn's Songs Without Words, and was somewhat lost between the two very intense works that surrounded it (Feast of the Gods and The Upper Room). But when presented as the featured piece of the evening, it came across to me (and apparently to a lot of other people, as it got a standing ovation) as a very strong work, certainly capable of being the centerpiece of a show and one that really engages the brain. To actually describe the work would take someone more knowledgeable about dance than I, and alas it seems like I'm the only Denver poster left.

I went to the 3rd (out of 6) performances, and my impression is that the entries were not up to the standards of last year's competition. All were marred by ugly costumes (2 of the 3 choreographers are friends and the costumes for their works were identical except for the color). The winner (Joshua Blake Carter) probably deserved to win (I wasn't motivated to vote), but the music he chose was beyond unlistenable: someone's attempt at "minimalist" music, with the lyrics consisting of counting backwards from 10 (over and over and over and over and over and over and over again). After the intermission, we were treated to BNC Artistic Director Garret Ammon's latest work. This piece included several episodes of women in short skirts lying on their backs spread-eagled with their feet, etc., facing the audience. I found it tasteless, and it left me wondering whether I really want to send them another check this year.

Over the course of a career, a dancer has to play different types of characters and express the whole gamut of emotions. It's hard to imagine a tattoo that would be appropriate for every role.

It isn't just the Colorado Ballet. Check the second page of this announcement : http://www.millertheatre.com/pdf/pressreleases/onrelease.pdf

According to the brochure that was stuck in my program, the Colorado Ballet's 2009-2010 season will follow the same format as the 2008-2009 season: triple bills as book-ends and 2 full-length ballets surrounding The Nutcracker. The scheduling is a little better. with several weeks between programs rather than 2 programs run together, as A Midsummer Night's Dream and The Repertory Series were. The opening triple bill will consist of Great Galloping Gottschalk, some assorted solos and pas de deux, and Rodeo. The Fall full-length ballet will be Don Quixote. The Spring full-length program will be Beauty and the Beast, which will be followed by the final triple bill consisting of a new work by Brain, errr, Brian Reeder, Anthony Tudor's Echoing or Trumpets, and Celts

To give credit where credit is due, according to the program, corps member Caitlin Valentine danced the solo in some performances.

I listened to the CD once more, and I think that I was able to identify a little of the music. As best as I can remember: - the ballet began with music from the 1st movement, 1st suite; but I think this was followed by sections from the 2nd movement, 3rd suite. - music from the 2nd movement, 1st suite was prominent in the 3rd "movement" of the ballet. - the 4th "movement" of the ballet (a duet) used music from the 3rd movement, 3rd suite. - the 3rd movement, 2nd suite provided all, or most, of the music for the finale.

Feast of the Gods is the complete opposite of In The Upper Room. It's very formal and elegant and unmistakeably ballet. It doesn't overwhelm with high energy but completely captures you emotionally through beauty and grace. This work is extremely complex, and it was impossible to take it all in even seeing it 3 times, so I really can't give good answers to your questions. I had never heard Respighi's Ancient Airs and Dances before, so I'm not familiar enough with the music to be able to identify which parts were used when. I know that it started with the beginning of the 1st suite, but my current impression is that the music for this work did not follow Resphighi's order. I could be wrong. Unfortunately, none of the previewers or reviewers provided any information about the music. The work uses 6 men and 6 women. For the majority of the odd "movements" all 12 or all 6 men or all 6 women are on stage, though there were periods with fewer (including a solo by principal dancer Sharon Wehner). The other 2 "movements" were strictly duets (the 2nd "movement" was apparently always performed by principal dancers Chandra Kuykendall and Alexei Tyukov, who are normally paired together, while I think that the pair in the 4th "movement" changed from performance to peformance - because I prefer to sit at least half way back, I can't always recognize the individual dancers). Overall, it's very symmetric, with the middle "movement" being the fastest tempo-wise. The audience response was very good, but it also was for the other 2 works. Standing ovations are rare at the Colorado Ballet, and only In The Upper Room got a standing ovation, which might have as much to do with it being the finale as it was with the audience's opinion of it.

I saw Feast of the Gods twice more. All three times, I came embaressingly close to crying. It simply is gorgeous beyond comprehension (think of it as 20 minutes that are as beautiful as the "hymn" section of Sibelius' Finlandia). And every time I watched it I became more aware of how physically difficult it is. Feast of the Gods consists of 5 "movements" (I'll have to listen to the CD a few more times, but right now I'm thinking that the movements don't necessarily have a 1-to-1 correspondence with the movements in Respighi's music). The odd numbered ones are mostly ensemble pieces, with various all-men, all-women, and couples (the numbers for each ranging between 4 and 6), though there were a few short segments with pairs and a short solo for a woman in the first "movement". The even numbered "movements" were striclty for a single pair. I never thought that I would want to see the same piece 3 times in 2 days, so I made plans to go to the symphony tonight with a group from my hiking club, thus missing the final performance. After today's matinee, I thought that I could skip the first half of the symphony to see this once more, but for some reason when the time came I thought that I might be perceived as being rude for skipping out for part of the symphony concert, so I didn't go through with the plan. I'm regretting my decision, but consoling myself with the thought that Gil Boggs has brought works that made a big impact 2 or 3 years later (e.g., From Foreign Lands and People this season and Celts next season). This piece is very modern but non-trendy, so I think that it will age well.

I would be tempted to spend it experimenting with different formats for presenting the arts in ways that might attract new people to them. Douglas Boyd, the Colorado Symphony's principal guest conductor, made an impassioned and convincing sermonette after a recent concert on why the arts would lose their meaning if they were "dumbed down" to increase popularity, which leaves as the only alternative finding ways to interest more people in exploring them. Not that I personally have any great ideas. But I just can't believe that most people, if they could experience the beauty and power of music and dance in the way that I have been fortunate enough to, would not find themselves changed for the better by it.

P.S. The music was taken from Respighi's Ancient Airs and Dances.

I made my first trip to see Colorado Ballet's 2009 version of The Repertory Series today (Mar. 15). The opening work (it was a triple bill) was titled Feast of the Gods, and was choreographed by a former NYCB dancer named Edwaard Liang to music by Respighi. It established itself as unequivocally my all-time favorite abstract ballet. This work had everything. Grace. Beauty. Subtlety. Power. Athleticism. Gorgeous dancing by pairs. Fascinating patterns for ensembles. The finale was eye-mistingly emotional. And to the best of my memory, there was no repetition anywhere in it. This was definitely a visual feast that would please the gods. I ran into a couple of friends during the second intermission. One said "The first piece was the best choreography that I've ever seen." Maybe after I see it again I can write a better description. But I was just overwhelmed by the emotion of the entire program (which concluded with Twyla Tharp's In The Upper Room).

During the intermission of Colorado Ballet's final performance of A Midsummer Night's Dream, I stopped by the table where they were selling season tickets for next year to take a glance at what was on the schedule. I noticed that one of the works was listed as being choreographed by someone named "Brain Reeder".

As I understand it, Le Deserteur marked the beginning of a trend towards more serious plots in French opera. If that is the case, I don't understand why the WP "critic" would say that it wasn't worth resurrecting.

Ballet Nouveau Colorado has posted excerpts of the finalists in the 2009 version of their annual choreographers' competition on their website at http://www.bncdance.com/season/08_09/dancemakers.html

A frequent hiking partner (and season ticket holder to the Colorado Ballet) nudged me into accompanying her to the Aspen Santa Fe Ballet performance in Denver on Nov. 1. The program consisted of 4 short works, Petal (choreography by Helen Pickett), Slingerland (William Forsythe), Chameleon (Itzik Galili), and 1st Flash (Jorma Elo) (and 2 lengthy intermissions). Despite my lack of dance knowledge, I'll go ahead and arbitrarily label these as: Petal - modern ballet, Slingerland - classical ballet, Chameleon - pantomine, and 1st Flash - modern dance. The dancers all were extremely athletic and they were incredibly together rhythm-wise at all times. The whole program was executed flawlessly. My friend was really impressed (especially by Petal). But I just couldn't connect with the performance. It took me until mid-way through the last work to think of a reason why. What I decided was missing FOR ME was that all the pieces except Chameleon were abstract (and I thought that Chameleon, which involved 5 women more-or-less sitting in chairs and making a variety of sweet, pouty, gracious, and impolite gestures, was kind of dumb) and none built towards any sort of emotional climax or for that matter seemed to go anywhere. It just seemed sterile to me. Maybe I'm just a bit old-fashioned?

I was under the impression that this was the standard way of notating the 19-tone scale, but I could be wrong. Unfortunately, my friend's next concert is the same night as the Aspen Santa Fe Ballet program in Denver, so I won't get a chance to query her on this in the foreseeable future.

Yes, you could theoretically serialize any number of pitches. Was your impression that it sounded out-of-tune? because you're hearing 19 tones per octave rather than 12? If I hadn't known that they were playing a 19-tone work, I would have thought that they were a little sharp on some notes. Unfortunately, during the concert Haverstick's statement about serial music didn't sink in, so I wasn't listening for what I should have been listening for. Haverstick has been experimenting with a number of different tunings, as evidenced by his guitar collection: http://www.microstick.net (and click on "Guitars").