Veterans Day

Today a Black Hawk US Army helicopter landed on the baseball field of the local High School...

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/UH-60_Black_Hawk

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Book Review: Historic Photos of Boston

In the three and a half decades since I moved to Boston, I've seen many changes to the city's landscape. The changes run deeper than the departure of jazz clubs Paul's Mall and The Jazz Workshop or favorite restaurants such as Ken's on Boylston Street.

Over the decades new skyscrapers have sprung up - not only in the financial district, but in historic Back Bay where the Prudential and John Hancock Tower had once symbolically stood as Beantown's sole tall buildings. The Hancock Tower, a 60-story modernest structure designed by I. M. Pei was nearing completion when I arrived in 1973, but it was also famous for its construction or design flaws: Large glass windows would spontaneously pop out in the wind and crash onto the busy streets far below. You can imagine the terror and concern this created in the Back Bay area and the attention it got in the media. Large pieces of plywood were temporarily hammered into place to replace glass that had fallen to the ground. Although you could see that a lot of plywood had replaced broken windows, to my knowledge no body was injured by falling glass.

http://architecture.about.com/library/bljohnhancocktower.htm

Cities are always evolving, and Boston is no exception. Even though I have witnessed enormous architectural change in the span of just a few decades, it is interesting to view the photographic record of a city over a much longer time period to get an even broader sense of this dramatic change. The impact on the urban landscape on our lives is far reaching and pervasive. It says legions about the culture and consciousness of a city's inhabitants.

My latest table book - Historic Photos of Boston - is an album of well-selected photographs that chronicle the history of Boston. The book is remarkable photographic record of the rapid changes in architecture that occurred in the city from the mid-nineteenth through to the mid-twentieth centuries. I am entranced by the story told by every photograph, each of which is dated and explained in captions that are painstakingly researched by the author - landmark preservationist Timothy Orwig. Most of the photos were obtained from the Print Department of the Boston Public Library. http://www.bpl.org/research/print/index.htm

The earliest photos in this volume, dating from about 1850, are ghost-like images of structures and a cityscape that no longer exist in my modern city - such as the Cathedral of the Holy Cross on Franklin Street which was built in 1800-03 by the important American architect: Charles Bulfinch. Bulfinch was a visionary, and as Commissioner of Public Building, he put his indelible stamp on not only Boston, but Washington D.C. where here designed the Capital building. He had studied in Europe and incorporated European ideas and concepts into his American projects. Among his many local architectural accomplishments are: Faneuil Hall, the Boston Common, and the Massachusetts State House. Photographs of most of these buildings are represented in the publication.

It's good that the camera was invented when it was, since many structures in Boston burned down in the Great Fire of 1872. That dreaded event consumed 776 buildings in a 60 acre area and changed the downtown area forever (Several photos in the book document this disaster).

As someone who did not move to Boston until the early 70's, it is fascinating to see what the city looked like long before my time. Yet there are many streets, parks, and structures that still exist today but stand in an entirely different context, such as historic Faneuil Hall and Quincy Market. Having lived in the North End for a number of years (see my blog post North End Stories dated 7/2/08), much of that neighborhood looks very similar to what we see in photos dating from the 1920s and beyond. For example the Paul Revere House in North Square is shown in the book in a photo taken in 1909, and amazingly it looks quite the same today! That wood building stands solidly as the oldest structure in Boston. It was built around 1680. http://www.paulreverehouse.org/

Also looking virtually unchanged compared to a photo in the book is the Union Oyster House restaurant - the oldest continuously operating restaurant in the nation! (btw, their New England clam chowder is superb). http://www.unionoysterhouse.com/

It's nice to see what the Cyclorama looked liked when it opened in 1884. Today this building is home of the Boston Center for the Arts in the South End. http://www.acmi.net.au/AIC/CYCLORAMA_BOSTON.html

The stylish Majestic Theatre is shown in a 1903 photo that reveals what it looked like in its' heyday. Originally designed as an opera house, it still functions as such and was beautifully restored by Emerson College in 1989. http://www.maj.org/historyindex.html

One thing that seems to have changed multiple times over the years is North Station on Causeway Street. A photograph from 1901 shows the massive Union Station (1894) which connected to several rail lines including the Lowell and Fitchburg systems. Union Station was leveled in 1927 to build North Station and the Boston Garden, which more recently was succeeded by the TD Banknorth Garden built over the tracks. Somehow the elegance and meaning of train stations as both a functional and symbolic port of entrance to the city has been lost in our current society. North Station today may be efficient, cost-effective, and functional, but it is also bland and without a soul. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/North_Station

The facade of South Station on the other hand was maintained, and it looks much like it did in the 1901 photo in the book - although the elevated railway is long gone. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/South_Station

Every city has its disasters, and one of Boston's worst occurred on January 19th, 1919 in the North End. It was the Great Molasses explosion that killed 21 and injured 150 . Several photographs in the book document the devastation, which was extensive as its 8-foot wave of molasses engulfed the area knocking down everything in its path. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Boston_molasses_disaster

I think my favorite photo is a two-page spread of Symphony Hall as it looked in 1916 at a time when German-born conductor Karl Muck would have been the orchestra's Music Director. The world-famous concert hall looks about the same today (see my 9/25/08 post about Rush Tickets or 10/24/08 BSO Concert Review). In the photo you can clearly see the upper arched windows in the hall which were rediscovered and restored just this year. A trolley car (#733) buzzes by on Mass Ave in the foreground of the photo as a traffic jam consisting of black Model-T Fords drop off their Boston Symphony patrons. The brick building shown standing on the corner of Westland and Mass Ave was an industrial storage facility that no longer exists.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Symphony_Hall,_Boston
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Boston_Symphony_Orchestra
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Karl_Muck

Books such as Historic Photos of Boston allow us to take in the enormous change that naturally occurs in a vibrant and continually-adapting city. Some of these changes are unfortunately regrettable. One observation that strikes me concerns the impact that automobiles have had on city life. You can clearly see that as the number of cars increase over time, the quality of neighborhood life goes down. It's not simply a matter of aesthetics, but about the utilization of space and public mass-transportation. Old cities were not designed by city planners like Charles Bulfinch to accommodate the incredible volume of automobiles that we have on the streets today.

If you want to take a trip back in history to view Boston as it was, I strongly recommend this book. Although you will see that much has changed in the city over the years, we can be proud that many historic buildings and landmarks survive.


You can find the book on Amazon...

http://www.amazon.com/Historic-Photos-Boston-Photos/dp/1596523050/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1226095639&sr=1-1

Historic Photos of Boston
Text and Captions by Timothy Orwig
Copyright 2007 Turner Publishing Company, Nashville TN
ISBN 1-59652-305-0

http://www.turnerpublishinc.com/

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Crosscurrents: American and European Music in Interaction, 1900-2000

Surrounded by eminent musicologists, and feeling a little like Caliban in The Tempest, I wolfed down my bagel with cream cheese. It was one of several complimentary Continental breakfasts catered this week by Au Bon Pain courtesy of the Harvard University Music Department - host of “Crosscurrents: American and European Music in Interaction, 1900-2000.”

Serious musicologists among you can look forward to the second half of the Crosscurrents conference in Munich, Germany in May 2009. I’ve heard that there will be a future publication which will include everything presented from both parts (Cambridge and Munich). http://crosscurrents08-09.org/program.php

If you are interested in reading a well-balanced review and professional critique of this well-run and informative scholarly event, I must point you to an article in Boston Musical Intelligencer by Mark DeVoto. Mr. DeVoto, a distinguished composer and musicologist, is an authoritative source and an excellent writer. Here is a link to his rational and concise review…

http://classical-scene.com/2008/11/01/musical-diaspora-and-exile-the-convulsion-of-two-world-wars-ma-commission-among-musical-presentations-at-crosscurrrents/

On the other hand, if you have a perverse curiosity to see the event through the grossly distorted eyes of an unemployed and struggling middle-age quasi-serialist composer, read on…

As readers of my blog are well familiar, I am not an academic, but live and practice submerged somewhere within the dark underworld of new music. Since the bulk of my years, training, and professional activity in my chosen field of study existed in the later half of the 20th century, I attended the Harvard conference as a curious outside observer – a fly on the wall so to speak. It is always fascinating to hear what musicologists think and say about important composers who have influenced me either directly or indirectly - as a model, mentor, or actual teacher.

I must report that my experience at the Crosscurrents conference was more surrealistic than educational. The Halloween festivities occurring in and around the event only added to my disorientation. It felt a little as if I was living in a Dadaist dream, watching a dramatic stage performance about the spirit of music’s past, although the subject matter was continually reinterpreted by a parade of experts armed with citations and footnotes. The unlimited supply of Au Bon Pain French roast coffee and sweets provided during the breaks insured that my hallucinations remained colorful and intense.

Lectures in musicology are in a sense performance art: where the performer artfully filters and extracts a set of events, facts, and ideas from history, and then exposes them in a tour de force display of convincing cultural trajectories and meta-histories. Instances of our collective musical history - some original, some contrived – become distinguished artifacts, and are trotted out to hang on the proverbial museum wall in the name of culture. In this context it almost seems as if debate and discussion about the quality, seriousness, and merits of every piece of music written in the latter 20th century is now a forgone conclusion, since the slate of history has already been wiped clean for the activities of the 21st century. In their mind, if it happened, it must have been something that was of valid concern and meaningful artistic expression. Musicology provides an aura of legiticmy to past art, and it can promote (or by exclusion demote) musical ideas and works of music that would otherwise perish in the natural order. I will have more to say about this when I discuss the concerts associated with the conference.

As an active and practicing composer attending the conference, I felt as if I was toying with dangerous forces of the universe, since anti-mater and mater should never come in contact. Composers should’t automatically accept everything that musicologists proclaim about music, particularly in relation to their own personal stylistic inclinations and ideas. Conversely, musicologists should not always take composers on the face value of their word. Some composers have on occasion been known to stretch the truth in service of strategic advancement of their careers. This high-level of inter-disciplinary communication creates an artificial feed-back loop that is neither beneficial for composers nor insightful to musicologists. Sausage makers should not reveal their process to sausage consumers. The magic show isn’t as exciting when you know the secret behind the illusion.

Instead, I believe that composers should listen primarily to their internal voice - the “Composer’s Eye”- to learn what it is that they need to express. For us, listening to intense speculation about a long list of influences, trends, and the motivations that composer X or Y may have been exposed to comes across as rather inconsequential. It’s not that composers don’t appreciate historical significance (even as a footnote), but in general we are too preoccupied creating the future to worry excessively about cultural context and our position in the grand scheme of history. Composers should not be over-persuaded by outside analysis or authoritatively hyped statements of legiticmy. Historical musicology faces a clear and present challenge in regard to the understanding the music of our recent past. Since the verdict is not yet in regarding much of what transpired, we should all reserve our judgement until the cultural maturation process has had an opportunity to run its’ course. Music is an art, not a science. Art, like young wine, needs time to ferment, age, and breathe. In the passage of time, the vintological result will fall somewhere on a continuum between a fine bouquet and vinegar. We have to wait for the result, not rush the process.

Given my apparent unease regarding musicological lectures, you are probably asking:

What was I doing there?

and

Did I learn anything?

Let me attempt to answer the second question first…

Yes, I did learn something, although it’s quite difficult to objectify or regurgitate such an onslaught of scholarly information (not that you would want me to). But I do have a few high-level observations of the conference as a whole. For one thing, the range of topics of study has broadened substantially over the years. Studies of world, folk, and vernacular music have come front and center and are presently at a very high priority in the consciousness of musicologists. Although these topics had long been part of an emerging area of research (e.g. “Ethno-musicology”), the discourse is now more fully integrated into a global spectrum of study that includes music from all ages and styles. Collectively, the Gestalt of this work begins to take on a function as the mega-music of mankind – if you can believe that. Drawing selectively from this great body of interest, scholars search for patterns of musical culture, rubrics, intra-relationships, inter-relationships, and they scrutinize and analyse every little morsel in painstaking detail. Their increasingly inter-disciplinary field of study is trans-cultural, trans-temporal, and trans-national. As children, they must have played happily in a sandbox with a wide diversity of kids who freely shared their exotic toys. In contrast, the bulk of my childhood consisted of sitting alone watching 1950’s science fiction movies in front of a black and white TV.

As an outside observer, it does almost appear that musicologists find relationships under every stone in the garden. They live in a hyperbolic chamber of boundary-crossing aesthetics, historical narratives, imagined communities of musical utopia, and apply their hybrid multivariate filters over notions of trans-cultural appropriation, modernist historiographies, and polysemus cultural markers. Anyone care for an Excedrin?

(Much of the text in the previous paragraph was lifted from random words and phrases quoted from actual papers read at the conference. Same words, different context).

I admit that I’m “Joe the Composer” and don’t need to lose sleep over these issues. But I do give credit where credit is due since several of the conference presenters and participants are active as established composers AND musicologists (David Schiff, William Brooks, and Mark DeVoto). Frankly I don’t know how they do it. They successfully wear two hats and straddle the line between these two conflicted worlds of musical thought. Musicology is viewed as highly rational and objective, while that art and craft of Music Composition - the black sheep of university music departments - is seen as more akin to psychic channeling and the practice of voodoo. For me, putting the two disciplines together violates my previously stated theory concerning musical matter and anti-matter. If that phenomenon were to occur, I’d likely explode, potentially taking the entire universe down with me in the process. Believe me, you wouldn’t want that.

Another interesting take-away from the conference was purely linguistic. This old dog learned some new words. The keynote lecture by Michael Denning of Yale University was on the topic of decolonizing the ear. He used the words schizophonic and audiotopia attributing the later to the author Josh Kun:

http://www.amazon.com/Audiotopia-Music-America-American-Crossroads/dp/0520244249/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1225896496&sr=1-2

Denning also utilized the word music as a verb: musicing. “The musician’s were musicing.” (My line not his). Another presenter turned foreground into a verb, as in foregrounding. Cool! And what exactly did Joseph Schillinger mean by Zukunftsmusik (or "music of the future") in his 1927 lecture? I’ll leave you hanging in suspense.

Folk music came up frequently both in prepared papers and in the discussions that followed each paper. Figuring prominently in these discussions was the Seeger family, who’s combined effort provided an influential force in the fields of musicology and music composition. Ruth Crawford and Charles filtered American folk music through eyeglasses shaded by the Progressive School movement of the 1930’s that included emigre composers such as Hanns Eisler. The Seeger’s children – including Peggy (who is currently teaching a course on song writing at Northeastern University) and Pete grew up in what must have been an intellectually rich household. Yet I find it interesting that when I asked Pete decades ago about his remarkable and formative musical upbringing, he dismissed it as useless theoretical jargon by saying “Musicologists shovel music from one hole into another.”

I have already talked too much about people talking about music. I’ll now turn my attention to the concerts that were associated with the Crosscurrents conference.

The first was a program of modern French-American works (a representative from the French Consulate of Boston was on hand for the event). It featured the world premiere of works by Betsy Jolas and Edgard Varèse.

The Varèse work was the first performance of a newly discovered two-piano, eight-hand arrangement of his historic orchestral compostion from 1921, Amériques. It is based on a recently discovered autograph manuscript that now resides at the Paul Scaher Foundation in Basel where the score was carefully researched and edited by Helena Bugallo. The piano-reduction version, which dates from around 1927, is very different from the original version and should probably be considered a new piece. Varèse made many changes to passages and rhythmic details in the work. I particularly like the ending which works itself up into a frenzy of loud pounding percussive chords in a well-articulated penultimate episode of frenetic energy. Although the eight hand version of Amériques was probably created for study purposes, it hopefully will join other piano reductions (e.g. Stravinsky’s Le Scare du printemps) in the two-piano repertory.

Pianists Amy Williams, Lisa Kaplan, Amy Briggs (formerly Dissanayake), and Winston Choi were spectacular throughout the entire concert. (Briggs is well-known for her performances and recording of David Rakowski’s Etudes).

Betsy Jolas (b. 1926) is a wonderful composer, and her presence fit quite logically into the trans-Atlantic theme of the Crosscurrents concerts and conference. Hearing her in public conversation with her long-time friend and musicologist Vivian Perlis prior to the performance was an insightful, true, and relaxing. It stood in sharp contrast to the musical superlative in the air at the conference proper. Her new piece Teletalks (2008) for two pianists, is 17 minutes long and was commissioned by the Harvard Musical Association and Crosscurrents conference, with support from the Ernst von Siemens Musikstiftung and the Fromm Foundation. Teletalks draws upon the metaphor of international phone converstions between France and America, which Jolas indicated in her preconcert discussion seemed like a magical technology during her childhood. It reminded me of the 19th century concept of the Telectroscope that is only now being realized.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Telectroscope

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UsRsbPGRmy4

As the title implies, Teletalks plays upon the back-and-forth echo of sounds and ideas between the two instruments in a phone-like conversation between two distant parties. It’s in five movements of contrasting tempo, and full of rich pianistic sonorities that recall prior musical experiences while saying something new.

The second Jolas premiere was an updated version of her 1982 piece callingec which was written as a 75th birthday card for friend and colleague Elliott Carter. The 2008 version (composed for Carter’s 100th birthday) titled callingeccallingec, also utilizes the trans-Atlantic conversation metaphor. The pitches for the work derive from the notes E and C with various accidentals applied and in transposition. A texture of major and minor thirds permeates the brief two-piano work, but the listener can sense the craft that you would expect from a composer that held the title of professor of analysis and composition at the Paris Conservatory. Jolas was the successor to Messiaen in that distinguished post.

Jolas was off the next day to travel with the pianists to other cities (e.g. NY, Cleveland, Pittsburgh) for subsequent performances, so I did not get a chance to meet with her. But I did work with Ms. Jolas in 1981 when she was in residence at the Yale Summer School of Music at Norfolk CT. My personal recollection is that she was very professional and skilled as a teacher. I distinctly remember the strong work ethic displayed by both herself and Elliott Carter (to whom callingec was written and dedicated to a year later). While I was faint from dehydration and wilting from the summer heat and humidity, Jolas and Carter were off working hard on new pieces. I remember Jolas at breakfast early in the morning sitting across from me and filling her coffee cup with spoonfuls of sugar. I thought to myself “ah, massive amounts of caffeine and sugar, that’s how you do it!”

The first half of the Thursday evening concert also featured Piano Phase (1967) by Steve Reich (b. 1936), and Drie Stücke füvr zwei Kaviere (1976) by György Ligeti (b. 1923). I don’t have very much to say about these works.

I regret that I could not attend the Friday evening concert by the Chiara String Quartet, but it included another work by Reich and string quartets by Korngold (#3 in D major) and Bartók (#6).

The final concert on Saturday afternoon was by pianist Bruce Brubaker assisted by students Konrad Binienda and Kenric Tam. It focused on piano music of the post WWII 20th century with works by Earle Brown (1926-2002), Sylvanno Bussotti (b. 1931), and Alvin Curran (b. 1938).

Perhaps it was my state of mind after three days of lectures and concerts, but the concluding concert of the Crosscurrents conference left me cold. Although the actual performances by Brubaker, Binienda, and Tam seemed top-notch, I was annoyed by the selection of music and its pretentiousness.

The work Hope Street Tunnel Blues III (1983) by Alvin Curran, an example of minimalism, was the sensational hit of the afternoon for all of the wrong reasons. I found it masochistic and simple. It’s not that I don’t appreciate incorporating vernacular music (in this case the Blues) into concert music (as I have done in my own Boogie Woogie), but it is frankly a piece that I’ll avoid at all costs in the future.

The Curran was framed by older works by Bussotti (Piano Piece for David Tudor numbers 1,3, and 4)) and Brown (Twentyfive Pages). As a footnote I should mention that I’ve met both Bussotti and Brown and know their music first-hand from a time when it was in vogue.

When I was studying in Europe in 1984-85 I found my way outside Florance to the Scuola di Musica di Fîesole where Bussotti was teaching a class in composition. I have also studied his scores and listened to his music. My impression in the mid-eighties (and today) is that Bussotti is an eccentric artist who exploits the freedom of avant-gardism to his political advantage. His beautifully penned works could hang on the wall as framed art, but beyond the artful manuscript lies little music of true value. Bussotti, who wears a cape, is skillful at maintaining the image of the genius modernist composer, but he pales in comparison to his talented but deceased Italian colleagues Berio, Nono, Donatoni, and Scelsi.

Like Jolas, I met Earle Brown in 1981 at Yale Norfolk. Brown was not at all like Bussotti, but warm, unpretentious, and friendly. We discussed our common educational roots at the Schillinger Institute of Music in Boston (for me Berklee) where he was one of their first graduates. I got the impression that Brown felt fortunate career-wise. He happened to be in the right place at the right time, was one of the few Americans to be published by Universal Editions, and benefited from his association with avant garde superstar John Cage (btw, I plan a future post about Cage). Yet even in 1981, it was clear that the technique of Indeterminacy as practiced by a large number of composers from Cage to Boulez to Lutosławski was a dead end. I remembered that my teacher Donald Martino had used a bound copy of the Boulez Third Piano Sonata on his piano stand because it functioned as a good writing surface, not because he cared at all for the work itself.

In this context, I formed my ideas and opinions about these musical trends and ideas as they happened in the final three decades of the 20th century. After study, consideration, and thought, I rejected much of what transpired – including indeterminacy and minimalism.

So it was very strange for me to attend a concert that showcased select 20th century works of questionable merit. It appeared to elevate the works to a stature of classical masterpiece; works that I had never bought into or deemed valid after hearing them in the first place. This speaks to my earlier point about the power of musicology and the risk of distortion that a particular vision of history can represent. There was a “question and answer” session immediately after the Brubaker concert – as if the music needed further explanation beyond the written program notes. I didn’t share in the nostalgia which for me represented a catalogue of past sins and the mishaps of musical experimentation. Been there - done that. I applaud composers for experimenting, but once the experiment is proven wrong we need to move on.

We are not yet at a point in history where composers and trends of the past two or three decades can be certified as valid and worthy of academically supported cultural preservation. I could have (and would have) curated an entirely different set of concert programs highlighting composers and aesthetics of 20th century music from an entirely different perspective.

Do you sense some ambivalence on my part?

Now it is time to answer my first question: “What was I doing there?”

The answer is simple: Food.

As a struggling composer currently unemployed and on a tight budget, the receptions at the beginning and end of the Harvard Crosscurrents conference provided the best meals I had in a week. I actually left the discussion following the Brubaker concert early to get first dibs at the large spread in the Eda Kuhn Loeb Music Library. The grubs included roast beef, various cheeses, fresh grapes, thinly sliced French bread, sushi, and assorted vegetables and spreads. There was also a good selection of interesting wines, including a fantastic Australian Shiraz that I’ve never heard of before called “Jim Jim.”

http://www.jimjim.com/about_jim_jim.htm

The setting in the library’s Spalding Room with its dark wood and large stained glass window was appropriately elegant. Congratulatory toasts ensued, and one could stroll over to view items on display in an interesting exhibit entitled “Nadia Boulanger and her American Composition Students." I had a nice conversation with a former teacher of mine from The New England Conservatory where I once followed his class in Schenkerian Analysis. We mutually agreed that Harvard's conferences, concerts, and receptions are a great networking opportunity as well as a fine place to feast. Consuming more Jim Jim than I probably should have (I was not alone in my lack of restraint), I accidently spilled some of it on the carpet of the Spalding Room. It was time to say my goodbyes to old and new friends – including the new Chair of the Music Department.

My only regret is that I didn’t bring plastic zip-lock sandwitch bags to store leftover goodies. I’ve never been one to think much ahead.

http://www.thecrimson.com/article.aspx?ref=524997

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The Boston Musical Intelligencer

If you read my previous post about the demise of the Boston Globe Calendar section, you are aware that the listing and reporting of classical music events in the Boston area has grown scant. However I am glad to report that there is hope on the horizon. Like a Phoenix out of the ashes, the Boston Musical Intelligencer has entered onto the scene in an effort to fill the current void in cultural reporting.

Their "mission statement" reads as follows...

Our aim with The Musical Intelligencer is to list every classical music concert in greater Boston. We also intend to review as many as possible, especially those deemed most important and unjustly neglected by our editors. Our reviewers are to be drawn from Boston’s most distinguished musicians and musical academics under the leadership of Robert Levin. We invite participation from readers and experts.

Describing themselves as "a virtual journal and blog of the classical music scene in Boston" they go on to explain their raison d'être...

Many of us today rue the general decline in musical culture and literacy. In a small way we propose to reverse that trend with an online virtual journal and blog called The Boston Musical Intelligencer. If you have looked in the Boston Globe or Boston Phoenix calendars for guidance on what concert to attend, or looked in those papers for a review of a concert you have attended, you will no doubt share our frustration. Although what coverage there is in these papers is estimable, there is not enough of it. Due to limitations of staff and ink, probably fewer than 10 percent of the area’s concerts are reviewed and probably fewer than one half are listed.

I have added The Boston Musical Intelligencer to my favorites list and will consult it religiously for concert listings and music reviews. I do not intend to compete with the professional and authoritative writing likely to permeate their site, but will probably persist in speaking out loud on this blog about my perceptions of the Boston new music scene through the biased perspective of a "local composer." But there is certainly hope and encouragement to be found within the new "rag" in town, and I welcome it to the blogosphere.

Link: http://classical-scene.com/

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Lament for the Globe Calendar Section

For as long as I can remember, Thursday was Boston Globe "Calendar Day." With my morning coffee in hand, I would dive into the paper and pull out the "Calendar Section" to read and analyse the concert listings for the coming week. My schedule would often revolve around attending one or more of the obscure events listed in those pages. It was a great service to the community. Non-profit organizations, colleges, and grass-roots arts groups could submit their listings for free and get the word out about their event or lecture. Event listings were concise, informative, and carefully broken down into sub-categories. You could easily navigate the section to find the lecture, art, drama, music, or family event of your choosing.

This all ended today when the NY Times Publishing Company (parent of the Boston Globe) revamped its Arts insert section in the name of progress. The Calendar was replaced with "g" - a bland and generic Style, Arts, Things-to-do, TV, Comics, and Puzzles section. It has more color photos and commercial advertising than its predecessor, and it does list a few select mainstream concerts and events that the editor has recommended. But the Globe's increasingly scant coverage of arts events with reviews and articles now seems to be relegated to this small area of the paper.

Starting today, I have no idea how small arts groups will get the word out about their up-coming events. New Music ensembles in particular will be hard hit by this change since they live day-to-day and just can't afford to purchase advertising. While event listings still may be found online at www.boston.com/thingstodo, it is not the same as seeing it in news print. The negative impact on fringe arts organizations who are already struggling is going to be severe.

Perhaps it is just a sign of the times, but I will sorely miss the utility and value provided by the old Boston Globe Calendar section.

The rest is just noise.

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