Is WGBH following Copland's mandate?

WGBH is currently airing self-congratulatory spots, playing clips of an address Aaron Copland gave on its inaugural broadcast. To paraphrase, Copland says that 'GBH should particularly focus on music of our own time and place, to the point that contemporary American music is as well known as that of the classical masters. It's great talk, and I absolutely agree with the sentiment, but it made me consider: does WGBH actually do that?

The live BSO broadcasts certainly help, as they have first crack at many BSO commissions and other contemporary pieces selected by Levine. On Thanksgiving and July 4, they focus on American music. There's also the year-end "eulogy" program dedicated to musicians and composers who passed away that always includes a lot of contemporary music.

However, over the course of the week, it doesn't seem that they play all that much in the way of truly contemporary music. (Don't get me wrong; their programing is certainly far superior to WCRB's small, confined box.) For a very obvious example, last Wednesday was the birthday of Worcester's own John Adams. Adams seems to perfectly fit the mold that Copland described, as a composer of this time and place. However, WGBH chose not to play any of his music. (It's certainly not for lack of available recordings.) WHRB, on the other hand, has two pieces by Adams programmed for this past month, in addition to many other contemporary composers, equally famous and obscure.

In fairness, I should point out their wonderful site devoted to American music, Art of the States. And, again, I do think WGBH has good programming on the balance. However, instead of highlighting WGBH's good qualities, Aaron Copland reminds us that surely WGBH could do more.

The Verdi of Egypt

Sheikh Sayyed Darweesh (1892-1923) is credited with bringing Egyptian music into the 20th century and was the first to incorporate European instruments and techniques into Arabic music. He was extremely prolific, composing more than 100 songs, thirty musicals, and eleven adwar (a long-form, multi-sectioned song with complex melodies), all in the last seven years of his short life.

Darweesh fused many different influences in his music: qur'anic chant, Italian opera, Syrian Orthodox chant, and traditional Arabic singing. He was so successful a composer that many of his pieces are taken to be traditional anonymous works. He once called himself "Egypt's Verdi," a description that fits on many levels. Like Verdi, Darweesh lived through political upheaval and nationalism. His music struck a chord with the Egyptian people of all stations. In 1979, his song Biladi (my homeland) was chosen as the national anthem of Egypt.

Darweesh's music was the focus of a concert with the Chicago Classical Oriental Ensemble, in promotion of their new CD "Soul of a People." In addition to a violin, a cello, and two vocalists (including guest artist Youssef Kassab), the ensemble featured an 'ud (a type of lute), a qanun (a type or lyre), and a riqq (a type of tambourine).

The two highlights of the program for me were Ya Nas Ana Mut fi Hubbi and Doulab Rast. The first featured an extended 'ud solo by Kareem Roustom, who is also the ensemble's leader. Doulab Rast featured solos by Hicham Chami on the qanun and Albert Agha on vocals.

The tour, which also stopped in New York and Washington, continues in Ann Arbor (2/21), Chicago (2/26), Seattle (2/28), and LA (3/2). More information is available at World Music Central.

Egyptian Classical Music at Sanders Theater

Anyone who happened to hear The World tonight got a chance to hear about the Chicago Clasical Oriental Ensemble, which is currently touring with the music of pivotal Egyptian composer Sheikh Sayyed Darweesh. As Hicham Chami, the ensmble's executive director, explained:

He's seen as being the father of Arabic music, he's really someone who bridged both worlds, the oriental world and the western one, by doing things like composing for a piano and adding a piano to Arabic music and using harmony, all kind of things that were never done before.

The American tour comes to Cambridge's Sanders Theater Saturday Night at 8:00. More information on the tour is available at World Music Central.

Ahab defeats Whale?

Now small fowls flew screaming over the yet yawning gulf; a sullen white surf beat against its steep sides; then all collapsed, and the great shroud of the sea rolled on as it rolled five thousand years ago.

Thus ends the body of Moby-Dick. The sea is indifferent to the carnage that just occurred, as the Pequod sank and everyone (save the narrator) drowned. Save the strange quirk of fate that led the Rachel by the vortex where Ishmael was floating. The ending is a dark one, especially because the whale's victory is total. When the White Whale finally snaps the line and frees itself from the ship, Ahab feels it directly, asking "What breaks in me?"

It wasn't always this way, however. According to Steve Olsen-Smith and Melville's Marginalia Online,

The recovered notation shows that at some early point in the composition of Moby-Dick Melville considered a narrative plot in which the crew of the Pequod (or some ship of an earlier name) would get their whale—an especially dangerous whale even at this early stage, since it manages to sink their ship before it is slain.

The fascinating web site publishes the marginal notes that Melville wrote in an important source, Thomas Beale's The Natural History of the Sperm Whale. It's hard to imagine that so bleak an ending was once much more ambivalent.

The site is worth a look. It's a rare chance to read over Melville's shoulder and see what he thought about as he thought about what would be come the greatest novel of the 19th century. Unfortunately, it's the closest thing we have to his early drafts, making it all the more worthwhile.

Even more NY-Boston Sharing

I admit it. I was a little disappointed to read that James Levine is sticking around the Met for at least two more years. I was thrilled when Levine was appointed the to replace Sieji Ozawa. Since then, I've been counting down the years until he left the Met behind and spend most of his time in Boston.

I realized from the beginning that for the sake of an artistic turn-around, we'd be compromising some loyalty. Levine wouldn't be wearing Red Sox jerseys to the Hatch Shell on July 4, but we could live with that. (Ozawa's first pitch was a pre-game highlight of a pretty entertaining baseball game last July.) But I was hoping he'd finish his duties in New York and focus more on the BSO.

It'll be some time, I guess, but watch out New York; Levine will be ours alone eventually.

(Yeah, I'm only kidding myself. I guess I'll just have to content myself by getting a ticket to next week's Gurrelieder.)

Off-topic

As one of four American curling fans (though we do outnumber the three remaining hockey fans), I was mildly disappointed to see the US Men's team squander a chance to beat Finland yesterday, but I didn't care too much. After all, the men's team is just going to be outmatched this Olympics, so I wasn't surprised.

But what is going on with the women's team? I've be telling everybody I know about Thursday's match against Sweden since before the Olympics started. After all, it will be a rematch of the '05 World Championship, when Anette Norberg's team scored 6 in the final two ends to hand the Johnson sisters their only loss of the tournament to capture the title.

It'll probably be academic, however, as the women have lost their first three matches (including today's defeat by Japan, on a missed shot in the eleventh end). It's possible that they could get their act together and win out, but at this point it'll be pretty difficult.

(Though don't get me wrong -- I'm going to record Thursday's match and then watch it. While I appreciate that CNBC is devoting 3 hours a night to the sport, the inanity of the coverage is probably doing a better job turning people off from curling than creating new fans. Fast-forwarding through all the BS, the event will probably only take 40 minutes.)

UPDATE:

I'm thrilled that the men managed to pull through the bronze in the end. Good for them. (They showed me!)

The women's Gold Medal draw between Sweden and Switzerland was a classic match for the ages. I hope you got a chance to see it.

Normally a Just Malaise

The plan was a weekend in New York, then get home in time to start my new job Monday morning. I'd make it to hear Spem at MoMA, shop at academy, eat at that Chinese Muslim restaurant out in Brooklyn, and feel very content on my way home. Then the blizzard came.

I fled the city, trying to stay ahead of the record snow. With some trepidation, I put disc 2 of Unjust Malaise on the hi-fi. Perhaps it was the wrong choice. 84 is such a mind-numbing highway, seemingly endlessly bland. Especially when driving its 120 miles alone, it's hard not to stay out of a stupor. The music would surely make it worse, with its own seemingly endless repetitions.

The opposite was true, though. If anything, the music brought the blandness of the driving into focus. It provided motion to what otherwise appeared still. (It's some achievment of the highway that 65 mph seems like not moving at all.) The endless road reached the Mass Pike quickly.

Surprisingly, I've found the antidote to I-84 in Connecticut.