New World, New Hall

[I'm finally posting this review which I originally wrote for Suite101 now that the text is again mine to do with as I please.]

America's only orchestral academy, the New World Symphony, officially kicked off its new season in January of 2011 by breaking in its brand new concert hall, New World Center, in Miami Beach. And I was there to savor the moment.

We attended the first public concert (there was a private one for donors the night before) and came away knocked out by the one-two punch of performance and concert space. The Frank Gehry-designed structure has been turning heads even before completion. Its innovative and high-tech features seem destined to inspire a reinvention of classical music presentation for the 21st century. Inside, huge "sail" shapes on the walls spread out the sound and double as projection screens for laser and video images. Outside, a 6-story Projection Wall allows the performances to be viewed -- and heard -- from the adjoining two-acre park. Can't get a ticket? No problem!

To support these media capabilities, an entire audio-video production studio hovers over the rear of the concert hall, looking like NASA Mission Control. (For more about the Wallcasts, see my review of the one featuring Mahler's Sixth Symphony.)

None of these bells and whistles overshadows the music, however. Conductor Michael Tilson-Thomas (fondly referred to as MTT), who founded the New World back in 1988, picked up the reins at the podium and got an instant response from his highly-tuned ensemble. From the opening strains of Wagner's Overture to the Flying Dutchman we could tell we were in for a treat.

The sound in this new space is simply electric. Both intimate and expansive, without a bad seat in the house, it offers a degree of clarity and precision sometimes lacking in larger auditoriums. In our case, we were actually seated behind the string section in a bank of benches that can also serve as choral risers. This arena type of seating offers a chance to experience the music as if you are part of the orchestra, right in the thick of the action.

And it's impossible to overstate the abilities of the New World's youthful musicians. Their ensemble playing is impeccable, the brass gutsy, the strings capable of all kinds of sonorities and the strength to stand up against the rest of the instruments.

What would an opening be without a world premier? "Polaris," by Thomas Adès, was co-commissioned by the New World and a handful of some of the the best orchestras on the planet. The piece, accompanied by a commissioned film projected on three sides of the hall, challenged both musicians and audience, but it seems we were all up to the challenge. The texture of the sound at the end resembled a combination of a raging torrent of water and a jet of flame -- a sound perhaps never before uttered by any orchestra.

After this, I thought the closing Third Symphony of Aaron Copeland would sound tame by comparison. I was wrong! This work is perhaps one of the most ambitious of the prototypical American composer and demonstrates what it was possible to create even way back in 1946.

The final movement, based on the famous "Fanfare for the Common Man," formed a fitting conclusion to the evening and kicked off a standing ovation that lasted until Tilson-Thomas had to beg to be allowed to go home.

We left too, but can't wait to come back for more.

Mahler Under the Stars

Remember drive-in movies? Like that ...

A couple of months back I reported on the debut concert of the New World Symphony in their new home on South Beach. Last weekend we got it into our heads to catch the final performance of the season, Mahler's Sixth Symphony, which was given outdoors as a Wallcast.

From Mahler Under the Stars

The whole idea of the Wallcast is a signature feature of the Frank Ghery-designed facility. What it does is to turn the concert hall inside out, transforming what used to be a closed performance for a select audience into an open one for the public at large.

Of course there is a long history of public concerts going back long before bandshells and bandstands in parks, and certainly before outdoor rock concerts. Mozart, for example, composed one of his finest wind serenades for such an event. It was so popular with both performers and the public that the musicians played it over and over again -- even late at night in front of the composer's balcony as a way of saying thank you.

But projecting the event from inside the building onto its exterior as it happens is a new wrinkle. So is the construction of a public park from which to enjoy the concert, including a permanently installed high quality sound system. We decided this was something we had to see -- and hear.

Apparently close to a thousand other people had the same idea. By the time we arrived, about 15 minutes before concert time, the grass between the tubular stereo speaker systems was packed with people, many with blankets and lawn chairs. (My advice -- arrive well in advance to stake your claim.) We found some space where the Wall was only partially blocked by a palm tree and settled in.

A bit after 8:00 the 5-storey screen bloomed into imagery with the colors of the sunset sky still fading behind it. Applause greeted the gigantic spectacled face of Michael Tilson Thomas as he launched into a brief introduction to Mahler's opus, including his own playing of a few bars on the piano. These commentaries before each of the four movements were brief but enlightening, and served to further open up the music to a wider audience. (They also demonstrated that there was at least a short delay between interior live performance and the external video, because indoors the audience did not see or hear those introductions.)

And what can you say about Mahler? (Actually I have so much to say about him that it will have to keep for another time.) Hearing the spacious majesty of this century-old music as it spilled out beneath the stars seemed somehow perfectly appropriate. The Sixth is all about Fate, from the ominous opening march to the fall of the famous hammer blows in the finale -- yes, that's a hammer, a big one, landing on a big rectangle to create a concussion unlike anything else in the orchestra. WHAM!

So, a good time was had by all, including a pair of toddlers trying to dance as if it were a rock festival, and one of the most well-mannered dogs I've ever seen -- and in spite of a smattering of those whose cell phones or private conversations were considered too important to postpone. But hey, that's the great American outdoors. I only hope that they absorbed something of the music, if only unconsciously.

Wending our way home we marvelled at the human ability to perform as well as to absorb such a complex tapestry, but even more the ability to conceive of it in the first place and to be able to write it all down for the ages. Mahler's music is fraught with meaning and portent. Composing this in 1903-4, he seems to sense the approaching doomsday of the two World Wars, the Holocaust, and the threat of nuclear Armageddon that were only decades away.

Hearing it now, we can only hope there are not more such events heading our way, perhaps only a matter of years in our own future. Mahler originally put three hammer blows into this work, but later took one of them out as if he couldn't bear it. Maybe in this he was being merciful, or maybe it was an expression of hope. I'd like to think so. Maybe that last strike of the hammer is the one that hasn't happened ... yet.

[Mahler specified the sound of the Hammer -- "brief and mighty, but dull in resonance and with a non-metallic character (like the fall of an axe)" -- but not how to produce it. Apparently lots of things have been tried, including just a large bass drum, but the prevalent solution seems to be a big wooden sledge hammer hitting a resonant wooden box. The one the New World used was, shall we say, very effective.]

Here's another review from the Miami Herald.

Attention to the Details

As Columbo used to say, "Oh -- just one more thing ..."

I just began writing articles for Suite101.com with a review of the opening night concert for the new home of the New World Symphony in Miami Beach. But one small thing I omitted is a wonderful example of the fantastic attention to detail that is evident in all aspects of this project.

You know that chime that tells people to put down their drinks in the lobby and get to their seats? The one that goes "bong ... bong ... bong ..." or maybe "bing bong ... bing bong ... ?"

Well that's not good enough for the New World Center. I was delighted to hear the chimes play an entire little tune. And even more delighted when I recognized it as one of the oldest known pieces of Western music: the "Seikilos epitaph" that was discovered engraved on a tombstone in Turkey, and which dates from over 2,000 years ago.

(If you're wondering how I happened to recognize such an old song, it's because I discovered it while researching the article I wrote about the discovery of some bone flutes from the Ice Age -- perhaps the oldest musical instruments ever found.)

So when you go to the New World Center, even in the act of being ushered to your seat you are being reminded of the wonderfully long and rich history that has delivered us to this new golden age. Here are the lyrics [translated] so you can sing along:

While you live, shine,
don't suffer anything at all;
life exists only a short while,
and time demands its toll.

So in other words, eat, drink and be merry!