Reflection: ‘Einstein on the Beach’

(Disclaimer: I don’t intend for this to be a “review,” but rather a stream of consciousness way for me to gather and digest my immediate thoughts and reactions. Also note that I am not an EOTB expert. I’m simply a fan.)

It was very fresh and clean.

This afternoon, I was fortunate enough to see Philip Glass and Robert Wilson’s mythic Einstein on the Beach. It’s been nearly a decade since I first learned about this work (and saw a clip) in Music History III, and since then seeing it performed live has been on my bucket list. I remember most of my classmates’ initial reaction upon first hearing of a 4.5-hr, intermission-less and plotless opera in which the only singing is that of solfege and numbers, along with senseless spoken text (not to mention modern choreography and stage design): “That’s cool.” Then we saw the video clip of “Trial/Jail” (AKA “The Supermarket Scene”), and many of the cheers turned to, “Eh, nevermind.” I, however, was one of the few converts, and have longed to see it since.

As you’ve likely seen online or elsewhere, Einstein is being revived this year and into 2013 by the originators – Philip Glass, Robert Wilson, Lucinda Childs – and Pomegranate Arts both in celebration of Glass’s 75th year and simply because they see this is being their last chance. It’s been 20 years since the last production and international tour, and, with one exception, the one before that was the very first in 1976. And while this tour will feature many international hotspots, including runs in Berkley, CA and New York City, the tech rehearsals, dress rehearsals, and “preview performances” occurred in Ann Arbor, MI (!) over the last month (with the preview performances this weekend). (The University Musical Society board should be given some sort of medal…)

I could give a blow-by-blow account of what I saw, but it’s not as if I saw a new storyline or interpretation. (After all, how could one effectively re-interpret something that has no plot?) Instead, I’d rather attempt to capture some of the feeling. I hadn’t been as excited for an individual concert/performance as I was for today’s Einstein in at least a couple years. Concerning classical/contemporary music, only my excitement for attending Chicago Lyric Opera’s 2005 Der Ring des Nibelungen compared. However, the main difference between the two is that I knew I would one day get to see a major company perform Wagner’s magnum opus; it was only a matter of time and resources. On the other hand, I chalked Einstein up to a pipe dream – something I’d only realize via DVD.

Well, today was the day, my friends. Not only did I see the opera, but as it was conceived and realized by the original creative forces, including the Michael Riesman-directed Philip Glass Ensemble. I sat through the 270-minute behemoth (minus a couple minutes for a quick dash to the restroom – did I mention there’s no intermission?), not once thinking Are we done yet?. Much of the time, to be honest, I wasn’t even on planet Earth to ask the question. I was in instead in Bern, Switzerland. And in a laboratory-cum-courtroom. And a jailhouse. And a prematurely air-conditioned supermarket. And a spaceship. And even a park bench. I lost myself in an endless barrage of numbers, syllables, and mind-boggling, repetitive text. While the music alone is quite something, the Gesamtkunstwerk is absolutely mind-altering. (Thank you, Alex Ross, for aptly noting, “It all goes back to Wagner.”) Between the trance-inducing music, the minimalist-but-still-a-three-maybe-six-ring-circus action, set designs, costumes, and props, every subtle nuance – from a quick wink to the tossing of a paper airplane – commanded attention. Some specific thoughts:

• I quite enjoyed the way in which the production started. Instead of the typical “light down, mouths shut” procedure, it was a gradual transition from the time the audience entered the theater until the entrance of the chorus.
• Kate Moran kept me on the edge of my seat with the supermarket text, never quite saying it the same way twice (despite repeating it for ~15 minutes…).
• I expected great things for the “walking bass” portion of the Spaceship scene. What I didn’t expect was to be overwhelmed. Definitely the climax.
•  After returning from my jaunt to the restroom three hours in, that’s when it really hit me that the cast and crew gets no break. (Yes, individuals may come and go, but the show continues nonetheless.) Hats off to them, especially the Philip Glass Ensemble’s soprano.
• There was much more subtle humor (as compared with the toothbrushing bit) than I had expected. It of course helped that the audience was so willing to dive in.
• I appreciated the narrators not always being prominent in the mix. It was particularly effective in “Knee Play 1.”
• The extended dance numbers left me exhausted when complete.
• Although I felt as if I roughly “got it” while I stood applauding afterward, whatever “it” was vanished in an instant. I still couldn’t tell you what it’s about. 🙂 Much like a dream, which is as clear and real as anything while it occurs, it’s a blur once awake. Unless you’ve seen it or know it well, my rambling descriptions would make little sense.
• While I won’t be so bold as to say I was a part of history, I can safely say that I witnessed history – at least artistic history – in the making this afternoon. And that was truly special. (Simply see the bottom of this page for a list of all its performances. Ever.)
• This was one of my most unique musical experiences.

I gave the full recording one final listen on Friday in an attempt to get myself in the right frame of mind, but nothing could have properly prepared me for what I witnessed this afternoon. I left the theater feeling many things: giddy, emotionally and mentally exhausted, thankful, awestruck, somewhat confused. One thing was for certain: I needed more time to digest what I had just experienced (and still do). I drove home in silence (one hour), and haven’t listened to anything since walking in the door. I just keep replaying hundreds of auditory and visual snapshots in my mind, most of which I’m sure I’ll remember forever. Fervently… 🙂

MTH-V: Michael Brecker

This past Friday (01.13) marked the fifth anniversary of Michael Brecker‘s death. His music and musicianship definitely touches me still. Not only was he one of the tenor saxophone’s greatest technicians, but he played with a deep intensity and emotional to match.

Of the many reasons to love Michael’s playing and ethic, one that particularly stands out to me is his stylistic versatility, having attained a great degree of commercial success in pop music while maintaining a career as a heavy, widely-respected jazz musician. His funk and fusion work with his brother Randy in the Brecker Brothers is of course widely known to most musicians, but his work with James Taylor, Joni Mitchell (if you aren’t familiar with Shadows and Light, go buy it right now), and Paul Simon exposed his name and playing to a much wider audience. (His solo on James Taylor’s “Don’t Let Me Be Lonely Tonight” is classic.) And then of course his more straight ahead and avant-garde jazz roots shone brightly in his solo work and that with his longtime collaborators in Saxophone Summit. (His playing was evidence of his deep love for Coltrane’s late period. In fact, it made his passing the day after Alice Coltrane‘s death that much more eerie.)

While there are hundreds of videos I could choose from, I’ve chosen only a few. This first video is from a Vienna performance of Herbie’s “The Sorcerer” with Herbie Hancock, Roy Hargrove, bassist George Mraz, and drummer Willie Jones III. I saw Michael Brecker live with a variation of this band (with bassist Scott Colley and the always intense Terri Lyne Carrington on drums) a couple months before his disease was made public. Brecker was quite pale, and, though he spent much of the night sitting on a stool or offstage when not playing, he absolutely destroyed Detroit’s Orchestra Hall. Enjoy Herbie ripping it up at the top; Brecker’s solo starts at 3:55.

Just when you thought Brecker had no need for improvements, here’s an excerpt of a 1996 interview with Jazz’s web documentarian Bret Primack:

And what post remembering Michael would be complete with Brecker Brothers’ “Some Skunk Funk”? (With Mike Stern, drummer Dennis Chambers [whom you should recognize from the Stern/Berg post], bassist James Genus, and keyboardist George Whitty.) This is BURNIN’!

MTH-V: Elton John Live

I’m surprised it took me this long to feature a video of Sir Elton. (Though I did write a glowing article about 2010’s The Union here.) I’ve made many mentions of my Top 5 in this blog. However, if I were to come up with an iron-clad Top 10, I’m sure it would include Mr. Dwight. I have about half of his studio output, and have had the pleasure of seeing him live a few times (including a signed shirt… 🙂 ). And, considering he’s one of my favorite musicians to listen to during long drives, he makes up almost half of my iTunes Top 25 Most Played playlist. Elton is one of those artists that I never tire of, no matter how much I listen to him.

Unfortunately, Elton’s celebrity and wardrobe tend to eclipse his actual music, and many people, especially “serious musicians,” tend to write him off as a cheesy, Top 40 has-been. But as someone who dives deep into his catalogue, I can tell you that he (often along with lyricist Bernie Taupin) has written some of the best songs of the last century. (Go listen to Tumbleweed Connection – his third album that produced zero singles – in its entirety if you don’t believe me.) And to top it all off, he and his band still get an arena of fans to their feet. The last time I saw him was almost two years ago, and the 63-yr. old Elton led his band through a three-hour, high-octane set that had everyone dancing all night.

The first video is from his 1980 Central Park Concert, and of “Funeral For A Friend/Love Lies Bleeding.” (I’ve set the video to start at the second half, “Love Lies Bleeding.”) This pair of tunes opens his legendary Goodbye Yellow Brick Road (1973). While the original studio recording is an energetic, sonic experience unto itself, this live performance definitely kicks it into high gear. This performance features original band members drummer Nigel Olsson and bassist Dee Murray. (This same concert also features his legendary Daffy Duck costume.)

This second video is rare footage of a recent, complete performance of “Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy,” the opening title-track of one of my favorite EJ albums. (Opt for the deluxe edition; it’s quite worth it.) In 2005, he performed the album in its entirety throughout that tour to celebrate its 30th anniversary. This particular video has been missing from YouTube the last few years, but it was thankfully reposted in October. This performance features Olsson, guitarist Davey Johnstone (a mostly regular member since 1971), and longtime bassist (and Detroit native!) Bob Birch.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HFvDyQO6osI&feature=youtu.be&t=1m29s

MTH-V: Tricky Live

Holiday and family obligations delayed this week’s video, but better late than never!

I’ve had Tricky on my mind throughout the last week. While not as active or as deep of a fan of his as some of the other artists I’ve discussed in this series, I really dig him nonetheless. I was peripherally aware of him in the mid-90s, but was quite blown away when I saw him and his band perform at Lollapalooza ’97 (that performance included both songs featured below). Part of the reason I was so struck by his performance was that I hadn’t seen (or heard!) anything like that before, and rarely have I seen something comparable in concert since. I still smile thinking of it all these years later.

Though Tricky’s music evidences a variety of influences, it is largely classified as trip hop. And while I can sympathize with those who may raise an eyebrow at suspect labels/categories, this one is an actual “thing.” (If you’re curious, read this for more context.) If you listen to enough of his music, you’ll notice some similarities with a few of his fellow Brits who also started in the early 90s, notably Portishead and some Radiohead.

This first video is a live performance of “Christiansands” (from 1996’s Pre-Millennium Tension). This is perhaps my favorite Tricky video on YouTube, likely because it’s the same band I saw 15 years ago. 🙂

This performance of “Vent” (from the same album) is more recent.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xRszjBUn3BE

MTH-V: Miles – Live in Berlin ’73

This Christmas, for whatever reason, I’ve been in an early Liebman & electric Miles kind of mood. Hence this week’s video. Miles’s pre-hiatus electric period is one of my favorites of his. For those fans of the addicting Dark Magus (1977), you should love this clip.

This was originally a television broadcast of a live performance, but I believe it’s since been circulated on one of the European bootleg outfits. (I have a number of those, but have yet to pick up this gem. I didn’t know it was available.) The video and audio quality are quite crisp for being so old and “lost.” For those Miles fans out there intimately familiar with The Miles Davis Story DVD, a clip or two from this concert (this particular clip, in fact) are included in the portion on his electric 1970s period.

A couple highlights (among many) in this clip:
1. Miles as Bandleader:  I’ve mentioned before my fondness for Miles as a bandleader. Here you see him “conducting” at time, especially during Liebman’s solo (3:34-5:20). Sure, his back was to the audience (gasp!), but what he was really doing was facing the band.
2. Liebman’s solo: On fire! (As always…)
3. THE BAND!: This core lineup is featured on a number of ~1973-5 recordings.
Miles Davis – Trumpet, Organ
Pete Cosey – Guitar, Percussion
Al Foster – Drums
Michael Henderson – Bass
Dave Liebman – Saxophones, Flute, Percussion
Reggie Lucas – Guitar
James Mtume – Percussion

Title: “Moja – Pt. 1” (or “Turnaround”)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bxSFSdcGPLM