Embarrassing/Funny Moments at Concerts/Operas
Howard Koo
I think some of you are really looking for some FUN. So, as a sequel, why not
talk about some of those "not so proud" moments you have seen or participated
(yeah right!) at concerts and operas. :)
adolphson
hk...@phakt.usc.edu (Howard Koo) writes:
I didn't attend this concert, but everyone I know who did
thought it was hilarious. About 10 years ago Montserrat
Caballe cancelled several performances of La Gioconda (I
think) at the San Francisco Opera due to an eye infection.
<Cough> But she didn't cancel a recital at Ambassador
Auditorium in Pasadena. She wore one of her gigantic caftans,
a comb and mantilla, and, because of her eye infection,
*double-dipped black wrap-around Ray-Bans*. The effect was
bizarre to say the least.
Arne
Paulo Martel
Ok, this was definitely my most embarrassing moment at a concert (and I did
not find it funny at the time :-)). Here it goes:
The late Russian pianist Yuri Egorov was giving a recital in my home
city, Lisbon, and I arrived late. Egorov had already started with the
first part of the program, a few Scarlatti sonatas. Since I had a
ticket to the 4th row, I wasn't allowed to walk down to my seat until
the short break after the sonatas. The break comes, and I start
walking down the aisle. As I near the 4th row Egorov comes back and
seats down, while the crowd claps a little. Now I am supposed to
quickly seat down, of course. I am at 4th row level, very close to the
stage, and to my utter desperation the 4th is _full_. I look at my
ticket, says "row 4". I look down at the floor, there is a green
number 4... so obviously some smart ass decided to seat in my place.
Since my ticket is near the center of the row I start counting, trying
to localize the obnoxious bastard. At this time the clapping has
stopped, and people from the front rows are looking curiously at me
and starting to frown. Why doesn't this idiot (me) seat down ? The
trouble is, I have nowhere to seat. I look around in desperation, and
at the stage. Egorov is about to start but he suddenly notices me,
standing in the aisle near the 4th row, red as a tomato and
sweating like hell. He withdraws his hands from the keyboard, while
giving me a piercing glare. Now _everyone_ is looking at me, Egorov
and the crowd. Boy, this must have been one of the worst moments in my
life !... For some _very_ long seconds nothing happens. But suddenly a
piteous soul whispers "there's an empty seat on the 2nd row, on the
other side". And there it was salvation, across the room. So I
quickly got there and sat, blushing and looking down. Egorov started
again, for a wonderful performance of some Brahms's Intermezzi.
Meanwhile I was picturing myself strangling the idiot who was seating
in me place, when and if I had the chance to put my hands on him...
But when the main break arrived and I finally got to my seat, it was
empty, and I never had a chance to kill the rascal...
|)
|aulo
--
|) /\/\ | e-mail: mar...@marvin.mr.sintef.no | |
|aulo / \artel | phone: +47-7-997700 |
MR-Center, SINTEF | FAX: +47-7-997708 | Ceci n'est pas
N-7034 Trondheim, NORWAY | | une pipe.
HENK MEULENDIJKS
Once I went to a recital from a pianoplayer name ???? (he was second on the Tjaikovski tournement in about 1988).
He played 5 sonates from Beethoven.
Not just that but he played them by heart (in plain dutch without the score)
suddenly he stopped because he had a blackout. somebody had to come from the audiance and help him out with turning the pages from te score.
I have never heard from him again.
David M. Kristol
Back in my undergraduate days in Philadelphia, in the 60's, the
Philadelphia Orchestra used to do free evening concerts at Robin Hood
Dell in Fairmount Park. The Dell was (then) an outdoor amphitheater
with a shell in front, about two dozen rows of seats (for paying
"Friends of the Dell") near the stage, and rows of park benches
behind. To the right was a gentle hill with overhanging trees that was
a favorite place for college students (and others) to spread out
blankets and watch the concert and enjoy a picnic dinner.
One night Rossini's "William Tell Overture" was on the program. As
usual, few people recognized the first two sections of the music. The
third, after the storm sequence, was often used in cartoons, so some
people recognized that. Of course, when the famous fanfare began,
everyone perked up. And yes, when the fanfare reached the big cadence
and rest, someone off to the side, on the hill, shouted through the
silence, "Hi yo silver, away!"
The audience cracked up, the conductor (I forget who) turned around
with something of a scowl (and a smile), and some of the musicians lost
it.
All in all, a great moment in music.
Dave Kristol
David Brooks
and the crew forgot to set the brakes on the piano. I was standing a
few feet from him.
Dee DEE-dum dee-dum, diddle-iddle-um
(grab, yank)
tiddle-um, tiddle-um, tiddle-iddleiddleiddle-um
(grab, yank)
--
David Brooks dbr...@osf.org
Open Software Foundation uunet!osf.org!dbrooks
Le temps a laissié son manteau / De vent, de froidure et de pluye,
Et s'est vestu de broiderie, / De soleil luyant, cler et beau.
Braden Mechley
Well, I heard Carol Neblett in AIDA several summers back, and she had some
problems. She was not announced as being "indisposed," and she actually
sounded okay in Acts One and Two, but Act Three really exposed her problems --
she attempted to float the high C of "O patria mia" ... and the note wouldn't
emerge at all. It's hard to describe what it sounded like -- I can imitate it,
but I can't exactly put it into words. The same thing happened when she
tried to float the A-flat at the end of the aria and the high note at the end
of "La tra foreste vergini"; by the time "O terra, addio" rolled around, she
just sang the notes which she might have wanted to float at a comfortable
mezzo-forte, not screaming but not exposing herself either.
Rosa Ponselle dropped the role of Aida from her repertoire in terror of the
high C in "O patria mia," so why should Neblett succeed where Ponselle did
not (although she did make a nice recording of it)? Well, it was pretty
depressing, though perhaps it seems funny in retrospect.
I also heard Jerry Hadley splatter like crazy on the interpolated high C at
the end of Alfredo's "O mio rimorso!" in a Met TRAVIATA broadcast (December
1990, I think, with Diana Soviero). Very sad.
Braden Mechley
Department of Classics
University of Washington
Neil Midkiff
>I think some of you are really looking for some FUN. So, as a sequel, why not
>talk about some of those "not so proud" moments you have seen or participated
>(yeah right!) at concerts and operas. :)
This isn't from personal knowledge, but it's such a good story that
it's worth reposting. I got it from r.m.c in 1991, so it will be new
to many of us.
-Neil
- - - -
This review, by Kenneth Langbell, appeared in the English-
language Bangkok Post. It was made available by Martin Canin,
piano faculty of the Julliard School.
_A Humid Recital Stirs Bangkok_
The recital last evening in the chamber music room of the Erewan
Hotel by US pianist Myron Kropp, the first appearance of Mr.
Kropp in Bangkok, can only be described by this reviewer and
those who witnessed Mr. Kropp's performance as one of the most
interesting experiences in a long time.
A hush fell over the room as Mr. Kropp appeared from the right of
the stage, attired in black formal evening-wear with a small
white poppy in his lapel. With sparse, sandy hair, a sallow
complexion and a deceptively frail looking frame, the man who has
repopularized Johann Sebastian Bach approached the Baldwin Concert
Grand, bowed to the audience, and placed himself upon the stool.
As I have mentioned on several other occasions, the Baldwin
Concert Grand, while basically a fine instrument, needs constant
attention, particularly in a climate such as Bangkok. This is
even more true when the instrument is as old as the piano
provided in the chamber music room of the Erewan Hotel. In this
humidity the felts which separate the white keys from the black
tend to swell, causing an occasional key to stick, which was
apparently the case last evening with the D in the second octave.
During the "raging storm" section of the D-minor Tocatta and
Fugue, Mr. Kropp must be complimented for putting up with the
awkward D. However, by the time the storm was past and he had
gotten into the Prelude and Fugue in D-major, in which second
octave D plays a major role, Mr. Kropp's patience was wearing
thin.
Some who attended the performance later questioned whether the
awkward key justified some of the language which was heard coming
from the stage during softer passages of the fugue. However, one
member of the audience, who had sent his children out of the room
by the mid-way point of the fugue, had a valid point when he
commented over the music and extemporaneous remoarks of Mr. Kropp
that the workman who greased the stool might have done better to
use some grease on the second octave D. Indeed, Mr. Kropp's stool
had more than enough grease, and during one passage in which the
music and lyrics were both particularly violent, Mr. Kropp was
turned completely around. Whereas before his remarks had been
aimed largely at the piano and were therefore somewhat muted, to
his surprise and that of those in the room he found himself
addressing directly to the audience.
But such things do happen, and the person who began to laugh
deserves to be severely reprimanded for this undignified behavior.
Unfortunately, laughter is contagious, and by the time it had
subsided and the audience had regained its composure, Mr. Kropp
appeared to be somewhat shaken. Nevertheless he swiveled himself
back into position and, leaving the D-major Fugue unfinished,
commenced on the Fastasia and Fugue in G-minor.
Why the concert grand piano's G key in the third octave chose
that particular time to begin sticking, I hesitate to guess.
However, it is certainly safe to say that Mr. Kropp did not help
matters when he began using his feet to kick the lower portion of
the piano instead of operating the pedals as is usually done.
Possibly it was this jarring, or the un-Bach-like hammering to
which the sticking keyboard was being subjected. Something caused
the right front leg of the piano to buckle slightly inward,
leaving the entire instrument listing at a 35-degree angle from
that which is normal. A gasp went up from the audience, for if
the piano had actually fallen, several of Mr. Kropp's toes, if
not both his feet, would surely have been broken.
It was with a sigh of relief, therefore, that the audience saw
Mr. Kropp slowly rise from his stool and leave the stage. A few
men in the back of the room began clapping, and, when Mr. Kropp
reappeared a moment later, it seemed he was responding to the
ovation. Apparently, however, he had left to get the fire-axe
which was hung backstage, for that is what he had in his hand.
My first reaction at seeing Mr. Kropp begin to chop at the left
leg of the piano was that he was attempting to make it tilt at
the same angle as the right leg and thereby correct the list.
However, when the weakened legs finally collapsed altogether with
a great crash and Mr. Kropp continued to chop, it became obvious
to all that he had no intention of going on with the concert.
The ushers, who had heard the snapping of piano wires and
splintering of sounding board from the dining room, came ruching
in and with the help of the hotel manager, two Indian watchmen
and a passing police corporal, finally succeeded in disarming Mr.
Kropp and dragging him from the stage.
Nancy A Howells
Oh, gawd... I have TWO such embarassing moments, one in which I was
intimately involved, and one in which I just happened to be near, and
know the person involved rather well.
The first was my second ever operatic role. I was doing Nella in
Gianni Schicchi, and we were doing the show on the road. We were
playing that night in a hosue that had just recently been restored,
and had the most slippery floor imaginable (though why the house
manager had it like that I will NEVER know). I was on stage ALL
night, with one exception, an exit, and then a return at a run to look
for the will. I returned, and slid.. and slid, and slid, and fell
FLAT on my face just before falling into the pit, thank God. Ouch,
though... I saw stars, literally. And I could NOT get up. I remember
just thinking "I've got 38 measures till I sing, two three four, 37
measures till I sing, two three four" and so on, until I got up enough
strength to start crawling around again, to look for the will. The
audience thought it had been staged like that since it was a farce.
The only person who knew any better who saw it from out front was the
director, who just about had a cow. I had the imprint of my
heavy-weave costume in my knee in the form of a bruise for WEEKS
after.
#2. Mayfest, Ann Arbor, Michigan, 1990, or 89, don't remember which.
Sitting in the second balcony, waiting for the concert to begin.
Conductor Michael Tilson Thomas, works are all Slavic. He comes out
to begin Dvorak's 2nd Symphony, and after the applause dies down,
raises his arms, to give the downbeat. A friend of mine, a dramatic
soprano, was sitting with several of us, including my voice teacher.
Just as M. Tilson Thomas begins to give the downbeat, right in the
midst of Hill Auditorium with its great accoustics, filled to the BRIM
with people, she cuts loose with the larges sneeze I have ever heard
in my life.
Needless to say, it was ten minutes before the concert began, as the
audience, the musicians, and the conductor all broke up. M. Tilson
Thomas turned around and shrugged finally, and just waited till it
died down -- later, we were told that Slavic story-telling sessions
which begin with a sneeze are somehow blessed, or something. So
perhaps that was what it was all about. The voice teacher for the
record, refused to look at the poor woman. I just about had all I
could do not to burst out laughing later when I remembered it.
Ooof....
--Nancy Leinonen Howells
Terence T. Lung
>Howard Koo (hk...@phakt.usc.edu) wrote:
>: Judging on the responses from my "Musicians' Personalities" post,
>: talk about some of those "not so proud" moments you have seen or participated
>: (yeah right!) at concerts and operas. :)
>
>that the baton flew out of his hand, hit the second violinist in the face,
>bounced off and knocked the music (but not the stand) onto the floor.
>Undaunted, the conductor continued using only his hands, and I think the
>violinist missed only a few measures.
I recently was the principal second violinist in a Handel's Messiah
performance. The conductor missed my face with the baton, in his
passion, but knocked the music off my stand onto the floor. All this
happens before an exposed portion of my duet with the concert master.
Undaunted, I adlib'd something that fit. (play one Handel, you've
played them all.)...Undaunted, I didn't miss a measure. Though, I wish
I could remember what I did play in that duet. I just remember my stand
partner, in panic, trying to recover the music and baton from the floor.
This was somewhat amusing.
In any case, the dress rehearsal should have made this all quite predictable.
Again, the conductor missed my face with the baton. I think the baton
made it clear back, over the heads of the flautists.
Actually, this all reminds me of another bout as principal second
violinist, with the same stand partner, this time in Constitution Hall
for some Christmas in Washington, DC program. Don't do it! The music
sucks and the pay also sucks. George was supposed to be there but
wasn't. Well, this thing was nationally televised
so here comes this cameraman with at least 40 lbs of electronic equipment
on his shoulder, squeezing through between the second violins and the
woodwinds to get a close-up of who knows what. As can be predicted,
the cameraman trips himself amidst all the cables and wires he's
dragging along and crashes headlong into the floor between the conductor
and myself. His equipment bursts asunder. This was also somewhat amusing.
Terence
M.R. Mellodew
with the programme notes of one particular concert. The reason it is dressed
up like this is because it often acts as my footer as well.
=============================================================================
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Martyn R. Mellodew, Dept. of Applied Mathematics & Theoretical Physics,
University of Liverpool, P.O.Box 147, Liverpool, England L69 9BX.
(E-mail: u0...@compsci.liverpool.ac.uk)
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
A well-known classical conductor and his orchestra were giving a concert in
the United States. This particular conductor was very fussy about programme
notes - he would have nothing to do with abbreviations at all, so if a work
was Opus something, it was Opus and not Op., and he used to make a point of
phoning the publishers in advance to make his point. So they got to Boston,
and he phoned the publishers as usual to say, `No abbreviations..' So came
the night of the concert, and they opened the programme, and it said,
`The London Symphony Orchestra will give a performance of
Bach's B Minor Massachusetts.'
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
=============================================================================
ROBERT HUDSON
Oh, I had a nice moment this summer, one of those you fear but
fortunately miss out on most of the time. I was working as a
staff member at the Interlochen Arts Camp (still known to most
of us as the National Music Camp) and was playing trombone in
the Interlochen Sousa Band. Our conductor was Frederick Fennell,
who is legendary but is also QUITE old. Well, we were playing
the "Funeral March of the Marionettes" (sp?) when Fennell blows
the big transition into the quicker tempo. (Did I mention this
is at the concert, not a rehearsal?) Well, most of the band didn't
play, because..., well, he blew it. But one determined third
clarinet decides to save the day and keeps going. This goes on for
several bars before Fennell finally cuts off and says, in a clear
and audible voice, "Let us begin again at the beginning."
Unfortunately, the people at recording services had no sense of
humor, so the recording contains only the second attempt. Oh,
well, I've got the memory to cherish, at least...
-Rob H.-
Mark Basinski
few years ago, the following occurred: In the last scene, Falstaff is
hiding
in a laundry basket (he's been visiting/pestering the ladies and the
husbands have arrived), and the end of the scene calls for two servants
to lug the basket over to the window and dump the contents (Falstaff
and the laundry) out the window into the river.
Now, Verdi's orchestral writing is particularly wonderful for expressing
the dramatic action...there is a "lifting/schlepping" segment for the
time needed to drag the very heavy basket to the window, and when the
basket is tipped up to the window, there is a fermata until the basket
is brought back down, at which point the conductor cues for the following
tutti chord (for Falstaff splashing into the river).
Well, the "laundry basket" was actually a steel framework with a plywood
floor (wrapped with wicker) and was *very* heavy by itself, plus the
weight of Falstaff, so the two tenors(?) (a species not renowned for its
physical strength) had a real job lugging this from one side of a BIG
stage to the other in the time the music allowed. Then (this was in the
first full dress reh.) when they tip the basket up to the window, stage
hands
behind the scene are supposed to yank Falstaff out, but this time, somehow
he got tangled up in the laundry, and they couldn't get him out! 10 seconds
went by...20..30...by now the fermata music (a trill mostly by the winds)
was getting very wobbly as the wind players started running out of air,
the strings started joining in playing whatever note came into their
heads/fingers...trills a major 3rd wide, etc...40 seconds..FINALLY they
got him out after almost a whole *minute* (a VERY long time for a fermata),
and by this time everyone in the pit was laughing so hard that they could
hardly play the closing bars...
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Mark Basinski Internet: basi...@biosci.arizona.edu
eyo...@binah.cc.brandeis.edu
incident at a piano recital (I've forgotten the performer's name). The
pianist was doing Partita in D by Bach and was in the middle of the
Sarabande. (This is a pretty delicately scored movement). Someone in the
audience coughed.
The pianist stopped.
He didn't glare at the audience or anything obviously nasty. He simply
gave a mock cough, in parody of the interruption.
Then he started playing again, from the beginning of the movement.
Apparently the hall was quite silent from that point on. (not even noise
from the hapless listener shrinking 8 inches in height).
Dan Kahn
its summer outdoor home at Ravinia (just North of Chicago).
During the intermission, a board member stood in front of the audience
reading a VERY long citation for some award to someone or other.
Reaching the end of this citation, the board member started ad-libbing
an extension to this citation and went on and on and on ...
(What the **** was going on????)
Finally, the board member gave up and Steinberg and the orchestra came
on to perform the Firebird Suite (which begins VERY quietly). About 10
measures into the piece, this loud freight train comes roaring by.
(Ah hah!)
Steinberg angrily threw his baton to the ground and the orchestra
stopped. After the train (evidently behind schedule) passed by, the
concert resumed.
Daniel S. Kahn
ka...@math.nwu.edu
Rebecca Root
>Howard Koo (hk...@phakt.usc.edu) wrote:
>: Judging on the responses from my "Musicians' Personalities" post,
>: talk about some of those "not so proud" moments you have seen or participated
>: (yeah right!) at concerts and operas. :)
>
I was in the pit once for a production of Monteverdi's Orfeo in which Apollo's
pants fell off during the "It's off to heaven we go" duet in the last act
(don't remember what the thing was really called). I was sitting where
I could see the stage, but of course, was looking at my music, when out of
the corner of my eye I noticed a movement that seemed out of place. I
looked up in time to see Apollo very coolly stop, hold up a finger, and
pull up his pants and continue as if nothing happened. Orfeo's eyes were
bugging a little, but otherwise he was cool, too. The most amazing thing
though, was that the audience did not let out a peep, not a snicker. I
asked a friend in the audience about it afterwards and she said that the
disaster was a gradual one, coming in little slips and slides, and so
the audience was well prepared for the ultimate result. You gotta love
an audience like that.
--
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Becky Root
U S WEST Advanced Technologies, Boulder, CO
-------------------------------------------------------------------
James Langdell
the topic "Mussorsky."
--James
Quite a few years ago I saw a concert by (I think) the Tel Aviv
String Quartet where the concluding work was Brahms's clarinet
quintet. (I'm blanking on who the clarinet player was, but he
was someone I looked forward to hearing.) The piece went pretty
well until they reached the last movement, a series of variations.
After the theme is played, the first variation features the cello.
A few notes into that passage, the cello's bridge slipped with a
loud crash and the player came to a sudden halt.
After a few minutes of repairing the instrument and retuning, the
players resumed with the theme. However, after playing the theme
once, some of the players went on the the first variation while
others played the repeat of the theme. All ground to a halt again.
The cellist decided to retune. I think there were about four false
starts, with nastier and nastier glares from player to player,
before the movement got under way well enough to reach the end.
They might as well not have bothered by that point, given how
sour were the emotions projected by the musicians throughout the
remainder of the piece.
My theory is that this concert (Stanford University) was at the far
end of a long road trip for the players, leaving them in a pretty
punchy state.
Another peeve about that concert: all publicity for it only listed
the composers--not the specific compositions to be included on the
program. Since the listed composers were Mozart, Brahms, and Hindemith,
any (or all) of the works on the program could have been a significant
clarinet quintet. But which piece(s)?
--James Langdell jam...@eng.sun.com
Sun Microsystems Mountain View, Calif.
Adam Ronthal
some piece for COncert Band and one of the movements began with the whole
horn section (triple forte) in a fanfare. I don't remember if there was
anything else under that, but suffice it to say that the horns were the main
thing happening at that time. So the movement right before the horns entrance
ends, and I (having remembered that movement being a bit longer)
was emptying my horn and not really paying attention. The third player
next to me was also spacing and I have no idea what the second horn was
thinking. Meanwhile the lead horn is frantically gesturing at the rest of
us to get our horns up, and the conductor, oblivious to everything calmly
gives the downbeat. I've never heard ONE horn sound so loud in my life.
--
/|\ /|~\ Adam M. Ronthal BR'94 | rontha...@yale.edu
/-| \/ |_/ P.O. Box 607 Yale Stn. | ron...@minerva.cis.yale.edu
/ | | \ New Haven, CT 06520 | ron...@pop.cis.yale.edu
Jon Buckheit
to play the Schumann concerto, but after the first note by the orchestra,
launched into the opening of the Grieg? That piece must have a hex on
it, since I've also read that the only person to ever die in performance
did so in the middle of the Grieg (anyone remember his name?)
Cynthia K. Wunsch
part of the program. In the middle of his first piece he had a memory
blank, began again, and still couldn't remember it. So he switched to
another Chopin piece... and his memory failed AGAIN. Finally he
played the A-flat polonaise to rousing applause.
At an opera performance, I was one of the numerous daughters in
G&S's _The Pirates of Penzance_. There was some unexpected
laughter from the audience, and a cut-throat soprano was
directly behind me... so I tossed my head back, enabling me to
sneak a quick look at her. She had been copying my every carefully
rehearsed gesture a second early.
--
Cynthia K. Wunsch Internet address: tha...@merlin.etsu.edu
Deryk Barker
: Like when Stephen Bishop-as-he-was-then was doing the Emperor at a Prom,
: and the crew forgot to set the brakes on the piano. I was standing a
: few feet from him.
I saw (heard) Stephen Bishop-as-he-still-was-then break a string while
accompanying Jacqueline du Pre in a Beethoven sonata. (Concert at
Wycombe Abbey School ~1966 for thos interested).
However, I wasn't present but heard this over the air, about 6 years
ago a Bartok piano concerto was scheduled for a prom (Peter Donohoe!).
The lift (sorry elevator) brining the piano up to the stage stuck and
for 1/2 hour the BBC announcer had to improvise live, with tales of
Bartok, piano concertos anything. A bravura performance in fact.
--
Real: Deryk Barker, Computer Science Dept., Camosun College, Victoria B.C.
Email: (dba...@camosun.bc.ca)
Phone: +1 604 370 4452
Erik Reid Jones
Just last week, I was in the chorus here at the Cincinnati Conservatory
of Music and we were performing the Carmina Burana (that great crowd
pleaser). The Baritone soloist was exhausted after doing the Taberna
scenes, so once he got finished with his bits at #15, he sat down in
his chair and was obviously savoring his moments of rest. Well, he
... he... let's just say he drifted off. Anyway, we get to the begin-
ning of #18, e minor, and the chorus has stood up. The Baritone, while
not quite asleep, is obviously not aware of anything whatsoever going
on around him. Kimo, the conductor, whispers to the Baritone. No
response. Kimo does it again, no response. Finally, the first violist,
closest to the Baritone, kicks his chair, instantly bring the Baritone
back to life. He looks at Kimo, who is ready to kill at this point.
Kimo tells him to stand up, but the Baritone has absolutely no idea where
we are. By the time we get restarted over a minute has elapsed since
the ending of the last movement. Now the Baritone has absolutely no
idea where an E is, and he has to come in with no orchestral intro.
He starts out on a B, a fourth low, and does a great portamento to land
on the F-sharp two beats later. It was, at the least, appropriate to
the piece!
Erik R. Jones
Cynthia K. Wunsch
Orchestra moved into their new concert hall, I attended a performance
that qualified as truly memorable. Mata's baton broke in the middle
of the first group of pieces; the end went flying over the percussionists'
heads and into the cheap seats (rather like being at a baseball game
when someone hits a ball into the bleachers). Next came the Brahms'
double concerto; there wasn't really enough room on stage for the
soloists, and if you've ever seen a cellist trying to play with
his elbows tucked in, the results are pretty amusing. Finally,
the DSO started their showpiece, Ravel's _Bolero_. The 1st
trombone completely missed his entrance.
Another note on the Meyerson symphony center: it is woefully
and inadequately equipped with bathrooms. I sang Mozart's
_Requiem_ there and on the floor where the chorus was seated
(213 people) there were only four ladies' bathrooms. It's
also kind of funny to see 100 elegantly dressed women compete
with the paying customers for those four places in a fifteen-
minute intermission.
Deryk Barker
: Judging on the responses from my "Musicians' Personalities" post,
: talk about some of those "not so proud" moments you have seen or participated
: (yeah right!) at concerts and operas. :)
Well everyone here is too young, but there was the famous occasion at
the Vienna opera when Leo Slezak was singing Parsifal. The swan he was
supposed to go offstage in (on) moved before it was supposed to.
Slezak immediately turned to the audience and asked 'what time does
the next swan leave?'
The Sax Guy =
I had a few embarrassing moments this YEAR as a matter of fact. Some
worse then others. Simple things likes standing up to be recognized
with the band (I'm the type to take initiative if no one else does it)
when actually it was recognition for the horn soloist *blush*. Or
forgetting my reed offstage for a song that was coming up for a
different instrument in which I was playing solo.
The WORST though is a choral concert given here. I was singing tenor,
and we had been working on the Britten piece "Rejoice in the Lamb"
(words by Christopher Smart, in an insane assylum). My conductor got
a tad excited and walked off the back into the pit. The scream went
right down into the pit, and the stagy student conductor confidently
stepped out and continued directing. Wierd thing is that no one lost
their concentration. The conductor was fine, bruises and such. Very
young man, so he can take that kind of thing. However, I must add
that the screaming from both the conductor and the audience added
IMMENSELY to the recording.... he was insane after all.
Todd Lamson
Deryk Barker
: How about the pianist (I think it was Jorge Bolet) who was supposed
: to play the Schumann concerto, but after the first note by the orchestra,
: launched into the opening of the Grieg?
Can anyone be more precise about this? It sounds suspiciously like the
opening of the 'Concerto Popolare' from the first Hoffnung concert, in
which the orchestra plays the opening chords of Tchaikovsky 1 and the
pianist repsonds with the opening of the Grieg. After that it gets
silly. I suppose it's possible this incident actually inspired the CP?
: That piece must have a hex on
: it, since I've also read that the only person to ever die in performance
: did so in the middle of the Grieg (anyone remember his name?)
Simon Barere, 1951. It was (would have been) his first performance of
the work.
Jorge Espinosa
Scarpia, mortally slained by Floria (Maria Caniglia?) in second act,
falls dead on his back dangerously near the curtain plain, his feet
toward the terrified spectators. At the act closing, the curtain goes
down in general applause, but... it rests gently halfway Scarpia's
surprising protuberant belly, leaving his feet on sight!
How did our stage director solve this most annoying contingency?
Simple, he quickly pulled the corpse back, so the poor fellow's feet
disappeared dragged under the curtain...
E avanti a lui tremava tutta Roma!!!
Saludos.Jorge.
Stuart LeBlanc
>>at a Prom, and the crew forgot to set the brakes on the piano.
>>I was standing a few feet from him.
>I saw (heard) Stephen Bishop-as-he-still-was-then break a string
>while accompanying Jacqueline du Pre in a Beethoven sonata. (Concert
>at Wycombe Abbey School ~1966 for thos interested).
Forgive the perhaps morbid curiosity (I have Bishop's Beethoven concerto
cycle), but what exactly is meant by "Bishop-as-he-etc.?"
Stuart LeBlanc
Guitar Instructor
MTSU Dept. of Music
leb...@knuth.mtsu.edu
Stuart LeBlanc
>>it, since I've also read that the only person to ever die in
>>performance did so in the middle of the Grieg (anyone remember
>>his name?)
>Simon Barere, 1951. It was (would have been) his first performance of
>the work.
Which reminds me of a B-grade horror film I saw as a youngster,
involving the character of an mentally disturbed composer who writes a
piece called "Concerto Macabre." As I recall, the film ends with the
composer beginning a performance of the piece, shortly followed by the
outbreak of a fire in the concert hall, whereby the orchestra exits whilst
the insane composer continues with his premiere in the midst of the
conflagration. Anyone know the name of the film?
Dale Gold
when the next one will happen. I suppose I could do a weekly posting :-)
There are a few good legends from the early days of the New Zealand
Symphony Orchestra:
- A very buxom pianist in a low-cut evening gown suffered a severe case
of 'fall-out' during her concerto. A woman from the 2nd violins rushed
up and restored the offending fleshy mass to its proper place, and
the soloist managed to continue as if nothing had happened.
- At one concert, there were strange noises from the back of the percussion
section, followed by a large crash. One of the percussionists had leapt
up and muttered, "My God, I've forgotten the woodblock!" He rushed back
to a big trunk of extra equipment and in his panic to find what he wanted
in a hurry, fell in the box!
- Andre Tchaikowsky was scheduled to play a piano concerto, and no one had
seen him all day. The orchestra and audience were equally puzzled when the
conductor (I think it might have been Brian Priestman) came out and
started the opening tutti. After a few minutes, a bedraggled figure in
an old raincoat strolled up through the audience and Andre arrived at
the piano at exactly the right moment to begin playing.
Andre died tragically far too young, but departed with the same sort of
flair. His will left a very generous donation (which included his
skull!) to one of the big Shakespeare companies in London. So if you're
ever there to hear the 'Alas poor Yorick' speech, please share a chuckle
with this wonderful character.
- My favorite happened at the Radio City Music Hall in New York a long time
ago. The floor of the pit would rise to stage level while the overture
was being played, and sink back to the depths just before the curtain
opened. A new member of the orchestra at the back of the 2nd violins
wasn't happy playing in crowded pit conditions, and had moved his chair
during a rest. At the end of the overture, the pit went down and left
him sitting on stage all by himself.
Dale
--
- dg...@basso.actrix.gen.nz
- Korokoro, New Zealand
M J O Clark
in the opening night, to the part where the priest of Baal is struck
down by the hand of God. Not having much capital, we couldn't rehearse
the "act" beforehand.....the high explosive charge went off --- rather
higher than expected --- the audience sat bewildered (most with a
headache) and the whole orchestra stopped playing. The tenor who was
about to sing his dramatic death--aria had a wonderful lead--in!
Back--stage, we of course thought the cathedral was collapsing!
By the end of the week of performances, we got the effect down to a few
gitters in the violins, and a shocked audience......
--
==============================================================================
I Have, even if I do say so myself, the BEST CHOCOLATE ICE-CREAM recipe in the
world...Mail mj...@uk.ac.ed with your request...no special equipment reqd.
Mike Quigley
>
> Which reminds me of a B-grade horror film I saw as a youngster,
> involving the character of an mentally disturbed composer who writes a
> piece called "Concerto Macabre." As I recall, the film ends with the
> composer beginning a performance of the piece, shortly followed by the
> outbreak of a fire in the concert hall, whereby the orchestra exits whilst
> the insane composer continues with his premiere in the midst of the
> conflagration. Anyone know the name of the film?
>
The movie is Hangover Square, the music was composed by Bernard Herrmann.
This mini concerto is available on a spectacular RCA CD of Herrmann's film
music conducted by Charles Gerhardt.
mark chartrand
>In article <1s78gd...@phakt.usc.edu> hk...@phakt.usc.edu (Howard Koo) writes:
>> Judging on the responses from my "Musicians' Personalities" post,
>>I think some of you are really looking for some FUN. So, as a sequel, why not
>>talk about some of those "not so proud" moments you have seen or participated
>>(yeah right!) at concerts and operas. :)
>
>
the National Academy of Sciences in Washington. The middle piece in an
otherwise enjoyable concert was Eliot Carter's Third Quartet. About four
or five minutes into that work, there was a loud "plunnnnnnnnnk" and a
string broke on the cello. They all stopped, the cellist went backstage,
restrung, and they took it from the top. At almost exactly the same place
in the score, another "twaaaaaang" and the second violin broke a string.
He went and restrung, and again they took it from the top. Just before
they began again, the first violin turned to the audience and said "You
are probably the only audience in the world who have ever voluntarily
heard thei first 30 bars of Carter's Third three times!" Two minutes
later, his violin broke a string! He rolled his eyes, fixed it, but this
time, they took up past the offending passage. He later remarked that in
42 years of playing, he had never seen 3 string break in one concert.
Jon Conrad
>>>Like when Stephen Bishop-as-he-was-then was doing the Emperor ...
>>I saw (heard) Stephen Bishop-as-he-still-was-then break a string ...
>Forgive the perhaps morbid curiosity (I have Bishop's Beethoven concerto
>cycle), but what exactly is meant by "Bishop-as-he-etc.?"
Stephen Kovacevich's parents divorced when he was very young. His mother
remarried a man named Bishop, who gave young Stephen his surname, the
name with which he made his fame.
In the mid 1970s, Bishop got to know his real father well for the first
time. Wishing to honor both his parents, he adopted the hyphenated name
Bishop-Kovacevich.
Then, just 2 or 3 years ago, he dropped the Bishop completely, and now
goes by the name Stephen Kovacevich. I have never heard an
authoritative explanation of this. Either something changed in his
parental situation (his mother or stepfather passed away perhaps?), or
(the cynical explanation) he felt the change would make him "news"
again and get him talked about.
Jon Alan Conrad
Nancy A Howells
There is some operatic anecdote book of which I cannot recall title or
author which goes into operatic disasters, and I was just reminded of
several by the Tosca commentary. There was the Tosca who the stage
hands hated, and put a mini trampoline under her jumping place, so she
just kept bouncing up into audience view after her suicide jump.
There was the Susanna in Marriage of Figaro whose panties' elastic
broke, and they fell down. She cadgily stepped behind a prop, and
dropped them, but the Figaro decided to be rude, and went and picked
them up, waving them at the audience.
I will never forget another scene at the University of Michigan's
performance of Coronation of Poppea a few years back (again, I forget
the date, I think it was spring, 1988) when they were doing an update.
The costumes were modern, and in the style of the television show,
Dynasty. A lot of the time, the Poppea was in a teddy. There were
very blatant sexual references being made on stage.. and it was all
fairly disconcerting to the performers. (not to mention the fairly
conservative audience in Ann Arbor -- boy, that production brought
some nasty letters to the Dean) At any rate, at one point, one of the
characters "fell out" of her costume, showing her breasts to the
audience. That resulted in her losing her place, the conductor
shouting out words to her and measure numbers to the orchestra, and
several Uof M hockey players rather rudely crying out some obscene
suggestions as to what the soprano could do with her spare time after
the performance was over. Um... well, when the elderly couple sitting
next to me asked me at intermission if I was from the School of Music,
I remember clearly saying (with fingers crossed) No. No way.
Reminds me of another accident, slightly more embarassing in some
ways, and of the same type. An update of a scene from Carmen, and the
Mercedes was dressed (as were the rest of the cast) as a punk-rocker.
She was wearing a leather bustier. It dropped. She caught it -- a
little too late. My brother was in the audience -- said it was the
best part of the show *grin*.
Greg Givler
>hk...@phakt.usc.edu (Howard Koo) writes:
>: Judging on the responses from my "Musicians' Personalities" post,
>: I think some of you are really looking for some FUN. So, as a sequel, why not
>: talk about some of those "not so proud" moments you have seen or participated
>: (yeah right!) at concerts and operas. :)
>
>Well everyone here is too young, but there was the famous occasion at
>the Vienna opera when Leo Slezak was singing Parsifal. The swan he was
>supposed to go offstage in (on) moved before it was supposed to.
>Slezak immediately turned to the audience and asked 'what time does
>the next swan leave?'
To my knowledge there are no swans in Parsifal, I think you mean Tannhauser.
:-)
>
>--
>Real: Deryk Barker, Computer Science Dept., Camosun College, Victoria B.C.
Greg
--
Greg Givler | "There are lies, damned lies, and statistics"
Commodore Product Assurance | - Mark Twain
giv...@cbmvax.commodore.com |
===============================================================================
Rob Holzel
>Then, just 2 or 3 years ago, he dropped the Bishop completely, and now
>goes by the name Stephen Kovacevich. I have never heard an
>authoritative explanation of this. Either something changed in his
>parental situation (his mother or stepfather passed away perhaps?), or
>(the cynical explanation) he felt the change would make him "news"
>again and get him talked about.
Thanks, Jon, for clarifying something that had always puzzled me, too.
Kovacevich has a new recording of the Brahms First Piano Concerto which
is electrifying, a fact which rather startled me the first time I listened
to it. I'm used to his playing being solid and well-judged, but hardly
as individual and compelling as it is here (on EMI with Sawallisch.)
I was also surprised to read a review somewhere where the reviewer talked
about his own reaction to the recording, saying that as he was drawn into
the performance he found himself edging up the volume more and more.
That was precisely what I'd been doing too.
I hate to say it, but even my old Gilels may be hard to return to after
having this one on hand. Included on the EMI CD are two songs that Brahms
arranged for soprano, viola, and piano. Very nice indeed.
I hope Kovacevich will give us a new Concerto #2 as well.
Rob
Dave Singer
(Nancy A Howells) wrote:
>
>
>
> There is some operatic anecdote book of which I cannot recall title or
> author which goes into operatic disasters, and I was just reminded of
> several by the Tosca commentary. There was the Tosca who the stage
> hands hated, and put a mini trampoline under her jumping place, so she
> just kept bouncing up into audience view after her suicide jump.
This is described at hilarious lengths in "My Family and Other Animals", I
think, by Gerald Durrell.
I was at a concert of modern music once which reduced an audience to
suppressed mirth. The piece was a sort-of a concerto, with long solo
passages for the leader of the orchestra. They were dissonant; but one
seemed more at odds with itself than the rest. Much to our relief, however,
the conductor leaned down and said, not very sotto voce, "You're two bars
out!". There was soon an audible hiccup; the audience sighed, expecting
improvement. But none came. Sure enough, a few moments later: "You're four
bars out!". Audience desperately attempts not to dissolve.
Braden Mechley
>>Well everyone here is too young, but there was the famous occasion at
>>the Vienna opera when Leo Slezak was singing Parsifal. The swan he was
>>supposed to go offstage in (on) moved before it was supposed to.
>>Slezak immediately turned to the audience and asked 'what time does
>>the next swan leave?'
>To my knowledge there are no swans in Parsifal, I think you mean Tannhauser.
>:-)
I can't believe I missed this error when the posting first appeared -- you're
moving in the right direction, but you're both wrong. The swan appears in
LOHENGRIN.
Braden Mechley
Department of Classics
University of Washington
Braden Mechley
This reminds me of the most wonderful opera blooper story of all, one assigned
by many people to many different locales. The end result is always that Tosca
leaps to her death at the end of the opera -- only to bounce back up after
hitting the overly-springy cushion awaiting her below.
There's a wonderful book on operatic disasters -- its title escapes me, though
I do recall that Peter Ustinov wrote at least the introduction to it -- which
includes a story of a SALOME in which the heroine, a bitchy prima donna if ever
there was one, was cruelly sabotaged by the stagehands, who replaced the head
of Jokanaan under the silver platter with a pile of ham sandwiches. When the
lid of the platter was removed, Salome collapsed in laughter, and the curtain
had to be brought down.
Dave Lampson
There was a student there that was obviously not into the music, and also
obviously not feeling well. She had a hacking cough. About half way
through the second piece, the management came and carted her away.
Unfortunately they didn't take her chatty sorority sisters with her.
They must have been required to attend a concert for a course they were
taking.
Another interesting event at that concert was that the cellist that
replaced Bernard Greenhouse (can't think of his name right now) was
playing away during the Haydn piano trio, and dropped his bow. He was
sitting very near the front edge of the stage and the bow almost fell
into the audience. It took him a few moments, but he recovered his
bow, and continued on. Menahem Pressler and Isadore Cohen (pianist
& violinist), who had never missed a beat, just looked at each other
as if to say "rookie". (:-)
Dave
lam...@pulse.com
Gene Lavergne
ele...@carson.u.washington.edu (Braden Mechley) writes:
I love that address!!!
Well, there IS a swan in Parsifal, but it is not the one in the Leo
Slezak story. The Parsifal swan is shot and killed by the young
Parsifal early in the first act.
| g...@bnr.ca (Gene A. Lavergne) | In all of opera, I most identify |
| ESN 444-4842 / (214) 684-4842 | with the character of Elektra. |
| PO Box 851986, Richardson, TX | That often worries me. |
| USA 75085-1986 | Opinions expressed here are mine and not BNR's. |
Deryk Barker
: >>Like when Stephen Bishop-as-he-was-then was doing the Emperor
: >>I was standing a few feet from him.
:
: >I saw (heard) Stephen Bishop-as-he-still-was-then break a string
: >while accompanying Jacqueline du Pre in a Beethoven sonata. (Concert
: >at Wycombe Abbey School ~1966 for thos interested).
:
: Forgive the perhaps morbid curiosity (I have Bishop's Beethoven concerto
: cycle), but what exactly is meant by "Bishop-as-he-etc.?"
He began his career as Stephen Bishop, which - I believe - was his
stepfather's surname. Later he became Stephen Bishop-Kovacevich, and
lately he has become Stephen Kovacevich. None of which affects his
superb playing.
--
Real: Deryk Barker, Computer Science Dept., Camosun College, Victoria B.C.
Bob Kosovsky
was turning pages for a local pianist, Stephanie Brown, who was playing
the Brahms F minor Quintet, Op. 34 with Alexander Schneider, Leslie Parnas,
and others. The scherzo is really very fast. Furthermore, you have to
turn back to the beginning of the movement in order to repeat the scherzo.
Unfortunately Stephanie had brought her score of the piece which had been
used so much, the binding no longer existed and each page was loose.
Somewhere in the middle of this scherzo, the page fluttered off the
piano stand and was headed down to Stephanie's lap. I was so terrified
I stuck my hand *i n b e t w e e n* Stephanie's arms to pick it up
(all this while the scherzo is whizzing by). I even heard the audience gasp
(this was at the New School). But as soon as it was over, Stephanie
said to me: "You were fantastic!"
An opera that I know I've described before - and I believe has become
legendary - is the performance of Die Walkuere where, when Jess Thomas
pulled the sword out of the tree, it whizzed across the stage, sending
Birgit Nilsson (who was playing Sieglinde) into paroxyms of laughter.
It was really a night to remember.
Bob Kosovsky
Graduate Center -- Ph.D. Program in Music(student)/ City University of New York
New York Public Library -- Music Division
bitnet: k...@cunyvms1.bitnet internet: k...@cunyvms1.gc.cuny.edu
Disclaimer: My opinions do not necessarily represent those of my institutions.
Kenneth Soper
new conductor, James Ross. He had picked a challenging program, including the
Janacek Symphonietta and the Brahms Violin Concerto An undergraduate
winner of the previous years concerto competition was the soloist. All went
well in rehearsals, but that concert....
The soloist came out. She looked like a million bucks. I noticed that
she took a rather long time to tune, as if things weren't cooperating. Well,
nerves happen to everyone (I pick up a neat vibrato personally, which on horn
isn't good unless you're from eastern Europe.)
So, the orchestra begins, and when the soloist came in, *SNAP!* There
goes a string. She acrobatically made up for the loss to complete her opening
work, then rapidly switched instruments with the Concertmaster. In the middle
of her next passage, *SNAP!* There went another string. Another violin gets
passed to the front. The performance went on. About 10 minutes later (while
still in the first movement,) the building's fire alarm went off.
Finally, the conductor had enough and cut us off. We waited for the
alarm to get shut off, then began the whole thing again (with the indefatigable
soloist back with her now restrung original violin.) She did an excellent job,
once everything got back to normal.
- Ken
YSO, YCB
PS - Adam, thanks for posting the Demitrius story. I still haven't forgiven
you :^)
Matt Austern
> There's a wonderful book on operatic disasters -- its title escapes
> me, though I do recall that Peter Ustinov wrote at least the
> introduction to it -- which includes a story of a SALOME in which
> the heroine, a bitchy prima donna if ever there was one, was cruelly
> sabotaged by the stagehands, who replaced the head of Jokanaan under
> the silver platter with a pile of ham sandwiches. When the lid of
> the platter was removed, Salome collapsed in laughter, and the
> curtain had to be brought down.
Two books, actually: _Great Operatic Disasters_, and a sequel, _Even
Greater Operatic Disasters_, both by Hugh Vickers. They're fun books,
and they're both in print. (At least they were as of a couple months
ago. Things like this don't stay in print for long...)
Be careful, though, with the stories in them: at least some of them
are known not to have happened. There's a wonderful story, for
example, about a rather confused firing squad in the last act of
Tosca. Unfortunately, this supposedly happened in San Francisco in
1961---and the San Francisco Opera didn't perform Tosca that year.
--
Matthew Austern Maybe we can eventually make language a
ma...@physics.berkeley.edu complete impediment to understanding.
Bryant Fujimoto
I don't know if he was serious or just trying to see how
credulous I was, I won't mention his home country (where
it was supposed to have happened).
The political party in power decided they wanted a band to
provide music at their rallies, etc. So they hired a
conductor and musicians, and bought whatever else was needed.
There was a political rally soon afterwards, and so of
course the band was there, but nobody remembered to tell
them what they were to do. The rally started, the prime
minister stood up, the audience stood up, and the band
stood up. And they all stood there until finally someone
ran over to the conductor and told him they were supposed
to be playing the national anthem! The conductor motioned
to the musicians to sit down, but he was then told that they
didn't have the music, it had been left outside in the buses.
So the musicians got up and ran out to the buses to get
the music. The prime minister was still standing, the
audience was getting impatient. The musicians got the music
and ran back, colliding with each other, with chairs, music
stands, etc. By this time, the audience was getting awfully
irritated. Realizing how bad the situation was the conductor
decided to simply have the band start playing and hope for
the best.
Now the national anthem was written in such a way that you
could (a) start at the begining and play all the way through,
(b) start in the middle and play an abbreviated version, or
(c) start near the end and play a fanfare on the main
theme. Furthermore each piece of music had the national
anthem printed on it twice. Once on the front in one key,
and once on the back in a different key.
So without pausing to get organized, the conducter gave the
downbeat, the musicians started playing, and............
The following day, the party in power no longer had a band.
Bryant Fujimoto
fuji...@denali.chem.washington.edu
My employers are not responsible for my opinions, and they
certainly aren't responsible for this story.
Bob Sutton
the band would do is put a porno magazine centerfold inside the score
of one of the pieces to be played in the concert. This would be done
when the music was on the conductor's stand and the conductor was off-stage
looking the other way. He must have been made of stone; he never once
flinched.
Another time when the band was playing "The Stars and Stripes Forever" march
of Sousa one of the clarinetists would put down her instrument and start
firing off these party poppers that spit out paper with a loud bang during
the piccolo solo. AT least it was in the proper spirit.
--
Bob Sutton Love, most bitterly and fiercely oppresses
bo...@gnu.ai.mit.edu those who fight it than those who offer
al...@cleveland.freenet.edu their servitude. -- Ovid, "Amores".
rsu...@eis.calstate.edu
Bob Sutton
ago of Mahler's Symphony #8 with some youth orchestra. During the first
part of the second movement (before the chorus comes in) a LAPD helicopter
flew over the ampitheater shining its spotlight on the hillside looking
for some suspect who was on the run in that general area. The resulting
noise made it very difficult for the orchestra to hear themselves and they
ended up totally confused with half the orchestra a couple bars ahead of
the rest. The conductor didn't have much choice but stop the orchestra
and start over.
I wasn't there, I read this in the newspaper after the fact.
Bob Kosovsky
>>>That piece must have a hex on
>>>it, since I've also read that the only person to ever die in
>>>performance did so in the middle of the Grieg (anyone remember his name?)
>>Simon Barere, 1951. It was (would have been) his first performance of
>Which reminds me of a B-grade horror film I saw as a youngster,
>involving the character of an mentally disturbed composer who writes a
>piece called "Concerto Macabre." As I recall, the film ends with the
>composer beginning a performance of the piece, shortly followed by the
>outbreak of a fire in the concert hall, whereby the orchestra exits whilst
>the insane composer continues with his premiere in the midst of the
>conflagration. Anyone know the name of the film?
Sure do: It's HANGOVER SQUARE (1945), with music by none other than
Bernard Herrmann. You forgot to mention that in addition to what you
describe, the composer (played by Laird Cregar in one of his last roles)
is wanted by the police who are in attendance in the concert hall, waiting
to apprehend him. The "concerto macarbre" is available on the RCA compilation
of his film music.
Sandra Loosemore
About a dozen years ago, someone at the St. Louis symphony had the
bright idea of doing some free mini-concerts at suburban shopping
malls for publicity. The one closest to where I lived happened to be
an outdoor mall. It also happened to be only a couple miles from
Lambert airport. So about a minute into the first piece, a big jet
roars in overhead and completely drowns out the music. Slatkin
clearly wasn't expecting this, so he stops and they start again from
the top after the jet passes. A couple minutes later, here comes
another plane....
-Sandra
Richard Berrong
>>hk...@phakt.usc.edu (Howard Koo) writes:
>>
>>Well everyone here is too young, but there was the famous occasion at
>>the Vienna opera when Leo Slezak was singing Parsifal. The swan he was
>>supposed to go offstage in (on) moved before it was supposed to.
>>Slezak immediately turned to the audience and asked 'what time does
>>the next swan leave?'
>
>To my knowledge there are no swans in Parsifal, I think you mean Tannhauser.
>:-)
Yes, I know you put a smiley, but before this leads to unnecessary further
discussion, let's make it clear: the opera in question was "Lohengrin",
Act III, when the swan boat shows up to take Lohengrin back to the land
of the Graal. In that particular performance, the swan and boat departed
before Slezak had a chance to get into it.
>>--
>>Real: Deryk Barker, Computer Science Dept., Camosun College, Victoria B.C.
>
>Greg
>
>--
>Greg Givler | "There are lies, damned lies, and statistics"
>Commodore Product Assurance | - Mark Twain
>giv...@cbmvax.commodore.com |
>===============================================================================
Richard Berrong
rlng...@ksuvxa.kent.edu
Deryk Barker
: In article <1sedsl...@news.u.washington.edu>
:
: I love that address!!!
:
: >In article <C6nvw...@cbmvax.cbm.commodore.com>
: givler@bermuda (Greg Givler) writes:
: >>>Well everyone here is too young, but there was the famous occasion at
: >>>the Vienna opera when Leo Slezak was singing Parsifal. The swan he was
: >>>supposed to go offstage in (on) moved before it was supposed to.
: >>>Slezak immediately turned to the audience and asked 'what time does
: >>>the next swan leave?'
: >>To my knowledge there are no swans in Parsifal, I think you mean
: >>Tannhauser. :-)
: >I can't believe I missed this error when the posting first appeared --
: >you're moving in the right direction, but you're both wrong. The swan
: >appears in LOHENGRIN.
:
: Well, there IS a swan in Parsifal, but it is not the one in the Leo
: Slezak story. The Parsifal swan is shot and killed by the young
: Parsifal early in the first act.
I'm sorry I mentioned this now....... I can't tell one Wagner opera
from another, but I *do* know it was Leo Slezak and some swan-toting
Wagnerian hero.
--
Real: Deryk Barker, Computer Science Dept., Camosun College, Victoria B.C.
Bob Kosovsky
One year I went to a summer music camp. At that time I was interested in
conducting so I attended all the rehearsals (though i was a pianist). The
conductor saw me and asked if I would help out in the percussion section.
The piece was Berlioz's Rakoczy March and I would play the cymbals. The
meter is cut time and as much as I tried I could never get the hang of it.
At the performance I did better than usual, and, aware of this, I was
banging those things at a triple forte. Comes the last chord, and I clash
them with all my might. People in the audience reported to me that I
leaped in the air and landed on my feet 1 yard behind the music stand.
With my reputation sealed, the band director also asked me to play the
cymbals - this time in Berlioz's Roman Carnival overture. The latter part
of this piece has hypermeasures of 5 beats, and though I usually got it
right in rehearsal, in performance I got off. Rather than make a fool of
myself, I just let the cues pass until three fortissimo chords conclude
the piece. So I came in - but one measure late. The piece concluded, and
I concluded - with one big solo cymbal crash, one measure late.
John Grabowski
That doens't mean it didn't happen, just that it didn't happen that year. The
date could have been a mistake or a typo.
Or it *could* an urban legend...who knows?
John
zo...@picasso.ocis.temple.edu
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Mike Quigley
the pianist had a severe memory lapse and stopped playing as some major
climax in the first movement approached. Fortunately he was able to get back
into synch at the actual climax, and things continued on OK from that point.
I heard about (but did not attend) another concert featuring pianist Ronald
Turini where he apparently had such a severe memory lapse he stopped playing
completely, and the conductor had to bring the score over to show him where
they were!
Mike Quigley
concert. The Vancouver Symphony was playing Bolero and the first trombone
player made a total hash out of his big solo. It sounded like he was spitting
into his instrument! It seems this guy had certain psychological problems
with this piece as well as the Brahms' 1st Symphony which he had screwed up
in a similar fashion some years before...
John E Todd
>
> Judging on the responses from my "Musicians' Personalities" post,
>I think some of you are really looking for some FUN. So, as a sequel, why not
>talk about some of those "not so proud" moments you have seen or participated
>(yeah right!) at concerts and operas. :)
I was playing at a brass band concert about two years ago, and we had a girl in
the band who was a dwarf (we beleived in equal opportunities at the time !) We
just finish the "Procession to the Minster" from Lohengrin and stood up to take
the applause. This girl, her feet can`t touch the floor when she sits, so she
has to slide off the seat to stand up. She slid off, the seat fell back and
she tumbles into the middle of the stage, tiny legs kicking in the air. The
audience just errupted with laughter and she ran off the stage. It was so
funny (not at the time though !)
Another fantastic moment I think happened in the Albert Hall. A band was on the
stage, I can`t remember what the peice was, but it involved a huge orchestral
bass drum. The percussion player hit the drum, it jumped from its stand and
rolled along and off the stage, making some noise as it went !
I was the same sort of thing happen on stage at the Mineworkers Brass band
contest in Blackpool a few years ago, but it involved a tam-tam and made
even more noise as it rolled off the stage !
Percussion players always seem to make the best mistakes on stage. I can
remember my band playing at the Scottish championships in about `83. Our
timp player had a solo at the end of the peice, it was something like the
timp part in 'Also Spracht', but he played the timps the wrong way round, starting
with the low one instead of the high one and keeping it like that (I remember the
peice now, it was Peter Grahams 'Dimensions')
Another classic that sticks in my mind is when we played at the national finals,
the middle movement of the peice is slow and quiet, and ends simply with two timp
notes, a G and a C I think. The timp player plays the first note, then hits the
stick off the rim of the timp with the second. What a cringe that was.
John.
John E Todd
Scottish Brass Band champions, Murray International Whitburn, onstage at the Edinburgh
Festival contest a few years ago. The first trombone player was told to leave a few bars,
but he was the type of player to try it on the stage anyway. It comes close to the passage,
and he`s playing away, when he goes for some note where his slide is way out, and then
it falls off the end, slides under the horns, and out near the conductor, who then
procedes to kick it *away* from the player, so he can`t get possibly get it back
before the end of the movement.
Another classic was Whitburn playing at the same contest about a decade later. The stage is
a large outdoor affair, just off Edinburgh`s Princess Street. Edinburgh has two rival
football (soccer) teams, Hearts and Hibs. The day of the contest, the local derby was on,
and Hearts had beaten Hibs. Hearts play in Maroon by the way. Hundreds of Hibs supporters
came through Princess Street after the game, and see Whitburn (who have a Maroon uniform)
on the stage, and proceed to run in front of the band, on the stage, everywhere, shouting
abuse at the band. It was really, really funny.
This contest, as I said, is outdoors, and the main Edinburgh to the rest of the country
railway line runs just behind the stage. All the trains pass and blow their horns just
for fun (it works best in the quiet sections). What is also brilliant is the fact that
Edinburgh Castle is on the other side if this railway line, on top of the volcano. Every
day at one o'clock they let off a cannon shot. It`s excellent to see a band on stage as
this happens, everybody jumps and loses the place !
The Edinburgh contest is in two parts, in the morning there is a march contest. The band
has to march down through Princess Street gardens, into the arena in front of the stage.
Last year, my band is ready to start, we get the beat of the drum, and start off just as
the heavens explode. It must have been the heaviest rain for decades. We were totally
soaked, but still had to play. It was a nightmare, especially for those wearing glasses
as they got steamed up !
Another excellent experience I saw on stage was up in Aberdeen. We were playing an
arrangement of 'Yesterday Once More', you know, the Carpenters tune. It starts off with
two harmon muted cornets, playing a bar apiece of slurred quavers. The conductor gets
in close to keep them in time, and catches the second players music with the stick, whips
it up into the air and it lands on the lap of the solo horn player. I was sitting behind
the second player, and all I could see was her back shake in sheer terror as she tried
to play all this with no music. It was really funny.
John.
Richard Stamper
> Judging on the responses from my "Musicians' Personalities" post,
> I think some of you are really looking for some FUN. So, as a sequel, why not
> talk about some of those "not so proud" moments you have seen or participated
> (yeah right!) at concerts and operas. :)
The following incident happened a couple of years ago during a performance of
Bach's B minor Mass in the Sheldonian Theatre, Oxford.
Roughly half-way through the mass there is a bass aria with a tricky and
highly exposed corno di caccia obligato part. The horn player was clearly
struggling with the introduction, with notes being missed and cracked, but
managed to keep going. A few measures after the soloist entered, however, the
obligato part faded out completely and the hapless horn player fell off his
chair in a dead faint. This brought proceedings to a halt, and since it was
the last number before the interval, the interval was brought forward while
the horn player was revived.
We never did hear the rest of that aria.
What I'll never know is whether the horn player was having difficulties
because he was about to pass out, or whether he decided subconsciously that he
couldn't face several minutes of embarrassing struggle between himself, his
instrument and the music, and passed out to save himself!
Richard Stamper
Jerry Young
July concert in his hometown in Oklahoma. Some local guy had forged his
own cannon, and that was going to be the big community attraction for
this guy to get to show off his cannon.
The ttouble was that because this was a homemade cannon, he would only be
able to fire it once because it would get too hot (Gee the biological
analogies have been hard to resist). During the performance the cannon
owner got so riled up that he decided to fire his cannon a second time.
The orchestra was only expecting one shot -- when they heard a second
blast they were so startled that they just stopped playing.
Ann Gulbrandsen
I attended a song recital with Anne Sofie von Otter and
Bengt Forsberg where Mr. Forsberg suddenly stopped playing
in the middle of a Korngold song. He had "run out" of pages
in the score:-) There was a short break in the concert while
both artists went out and looked for the missing pages.
/Ann
Jeff Winslow
>In article <1sedsl...@news.u.washington.edu>
>ele...@carson.u.washington.edu (Braden Mechley) writes:
>>I can't believe I missed this error when the posting first appeared --
>>you're moving in the right direction, but you're both wrong. The swan
>>appears in LOHENGRIN.
>Well, there IS a swan in Parsifal, but it is not the one in the Leo
>Slezak story. The Parsifal swan is shot and killed by the young
>Parsifal early in the first act.
Does this answer the earlier opera question - which characters (outside
the Ring) appear in more than one opera by a given composer?
So, how many times has Bayreuth followed Lohengrin with Parsifal? Good
thing for L. that he apparently fell off somewhere in mid-flight. Did
Anna Russell have anything to say about this?
Jeff Winslow
Jeff Winslow
else, so...
A friend of mine who is a cellist told me about one time she was
competing in the solo contests the state has for high school students.
She was *very* nervous. Many of us have some kind of mindless physical
thing we do when we're nervous, walking up and down, drumming fingers,
biting nails, etc. Hers was rosining her bow. The piece she was to play
begins with a loud flourish.
When she hit the flourish, a huge cloud of rosin dust shot up from the
strings. One of the judges (and probably half the audience, afterwards)
broke out laughing.
I guess that dissipated the tension, because after she got her bow back
in order and everybody calmed down, she played just fine.
Jeff Winslow
Braden Mechley
>legendary - is the performance of Die Walkuere where, when Jess Thomas
>pulled the sword out of the tree, it whizzed across the stage, sending
>Birgit Nilsson (who was playing Sieglinde) into paroxyms of laughter.
>It was really a night to remember.
Nilsson was/is quite a card, from all accounts. She herself recounts an
amusing incident from a performance of SIEGFRIED in which she arose to sing
"Heil dir, Sonne!" -- and realized that her top was falling open. Apparently
Wolfgang Windgassen capably threw his arms around her, preventing the
unveiling of the first x-rated Brunnhilde.
David Brooks
Pines of Rome. No, it wasn't the nightingale, which worked perfectly --
the cassette recorder, with its power line stretched across the
percussion department (the only people who are always moving their feet)
and the speaker wire threading the entire width of the stage, into an
amplifier that had just been used for a public announcement and had to
be switched over. Perfectly.
But, during the 3rd movement, a circuit breaker tripped loudly for the
first time in anyone's memory at that hall, leaving the extra brass,
lined up at the back of the hall, having rehearsed once and obviously
not memorized, in complete darkness.
Nobody onstage had any idea how to fix the lights, of course. Michael
Webster, conducting this orchestra for the last time before leaving
town, was glancing back with increased nervousness.
I did what I could -- sent the triangle player round to open the hall
doors and let a glimmer in on the players. Fortunately this had a happy
ending, as one of the staff turned up in the nick of time and wrestled
the breaker back into place. We responded with the best Appian Way
march I've ever heard.
--
David Brooks dbr...@osf.org
Open Software Foundation uunet!osf.org!dbrooks
Le temps a laissié son manteau / De vent, de froidure et de pluye,
Et s'est vestu de broiderie, / De soleil luyant, cler et beau.
bilinsky keith
Lets see funny stuff eh?
How about the time we were rehersing Sibelius 2nd Symphony, about 2 minutes
from the end when the timpani player who was totally lost (lost in his
music, lost if life, just plain lost!) and he asked the conductor very
sincerly if he was conducting in 2 or 4?
(It was in 3 and the pulse is strong enough to slowly grab your heart and
tear it out.)
-
Probably the all time trombone story though is of a un-named principal from
the Boston S.O. The piece, Ravel's Bolero. After sitting there for 7 and a
half minutes he raises he horn for the trombone solo, (This was as story's
go a man who had great pride in NEVER hacking the solo and he made sure
others new this.) The time had come and he took his breath, and entered as
perfect as could be, unfortunatly his second note A natural was a second
position note on the horn and upon moving the slide he found he left the
slide lock on, could not move the slide and did not play another note of the
solo....
Rumor has it that after this telivised concert he handed in his resignation.
Keith
bilinsky keith
If anyone has ever been to the LSO (London Symphony Orchestra) in ONTARIO
(yes london ontario, not london england) They know the concert hall is a bit
like a barn. On this occasion the guest conductor wanted to do somthing
special to Symphony Fantastique, not being afraid of technology he decided
that they would set up speakers in addition to the house system and half the
bells amplified to really sound the voice of death. To do this they put the
bells and percusionist in the basement in a sound proof room with a couple
big mikes there to catch the bells in their full glory as they would ring
through out the entire hall coming from a gross number of eakers in the
ceiling of the hall.
The big moment arrived in the symphony, the conductor cued the monitor this
percusionist was watching him through. NOTHING HAPPENED, he managed to get
the orchestra to go back a few phrases, he made a monstrous cue and NOTHING
HAPPENED AGAIN, meanwhile this other person (I never found out if he was a
janitor or Stage director or what) looked through the window into this guys
sound proof room and saw him READING A BOOK,.. The person knowing that he
was missing his entrences threw open the door and yelled: PLAY THE F*CKING
BELLS!
Needless to say the amplification system turned this yell into 'the voice of
god' and the orchestra ground to halt (and did not start again)
Keith
Bradford Kellogg
|> : Well, there IS a swan in Parsifal, but it is not the one in the Leo
|> : Slezak story. The Parsifal swan is shot and killed by the young
|> : Parsifal early in the first act.
|>
|> I'm sorry I mentioned this now....... I can't tell one Wagner opera
|> from another, but I *do* know it was Leo Slezak and some swan-toting
|> Wagnerian hero.
Do you mean to say... if you've heard one Wagner opera... ?
:-)
Richard Muirden
the energetic part of Beethoven's 7th the leader broke a string
and quickly took one from one of the players behind her.
I think it was the whites they were wearing ;-)
-richard
--
Richard Muirden, Systems Administrator, RMIT Computer Centre. 5.2.24 660-3814
E-Mail: rxx...@rmit.EDU.AU Snail: P.O. Box 2476V, Melbourne, Vic 3000
Fanatic of Shostakovich, "Star Trek" and a Hopeless Romantic to Boot!!! :)))
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dale Gold
> Pines of Rome. [...]
>
> during the 3rd movement, a circuit breaker tripped loudly for the
> first time in anyone's memory at that hall, leaving the extra brass,
> lined up at the back of the hall, having rehearsed once and obviously
> not memorized, in complete darkness.
That reminds me of a performance of Turandot I did with the Philadelphia
Lyric Opera a long time ago. It was funny for most of us and excruciatingly
embarassing for the soprano. She was already the subject of a bit of mirth
because in the years since her glamorous publicity photo was taken, she had
ballooned enormously and was caked with heavy makeup to disguise the fact.
She was wearing a huge and obviously uncomfortable headdress. The lights
flickered and died in the pit, but the old Italians in the orchestra
managed to busk along until they came back on. A few minutes later, they
went out for good and the music ground to a halt. The soprano had been
caught in an awkward pose, and chose to hold it thinking that the lights
would be back soon (the stage lights were still working and those of us up
close had a good view of the beads of sweat changing to torrents, and the
trembling of her limbs...) After about 5 minutes, Carlo Bergonzi, who had
been pacing around and occasionally muttering Italian oaths towards the
wings, stormed off and left her to it. I suppose the blackout only lasted
a few minutes, but for the poor soprano, they must have been the longest of
her life.
Dale
--
- dg...@basso.actrix.gen.nz
- Korokoro, New Zealand
Dale Gold
[...bell player offstage misses cue...]
An excellent story! A similar one that's achieved Urban Legend status
is the story of the offstage trumpeter in the Leonore Overture who started
to play the solo, only to be grabbed by a stagehand who said, "You can't do
that here! There's a concert going on!"
More likely to be true is a performance in Wales of the same overture. It
had been decided that the best trumpet sound could be gotten by having the
trumpet in the orchestra's truck, which was backed up to the loading dock
with the doors open. But someone had forgotten to tell the truck driver,
and shortly after the concert began, he drove off to go to the movies, solo
trumpeter and all.
Topi Ylinen
I don't know if this really qualifies, since this did not happen to any
performer, but I'll let you hear it anyway...
Last summer (or the one before that), at one of our numerous summertime
music festivals, one of my friends was supposed to enter and give flowers
to the solo instrumentalists when they have finished playing.
Unfortunately, she entered the concert hall too early (she thought they
had finished when they stopped playing or were just playing a less loud
passage). Needless to say she felt rather embarassed and backed out
immediately :-) but did come again later, this time right on time, to
present the instrumentalists with flowers...
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Topi Ylinen f1t...@kielo.uta.fi "That that is is." (W. Shakespeare)
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Topi Ylinen
nslow) writes:
>In article <C6oDz...@news.rich.bnr.ca> g...@bnr.ca (Gene Lavergne) writes:
>>In article <1sedsl...@news.u.washington.edu>
>>ele...@carson.u.washington.edu (Braden Mechley) writes:
>
>>>I can't believe I missed this error when the posting first appeared --
>>>you're moving in the right direction, but you're both wrong. The swan
>>>appears in LOHENGRIN.
>
>>Well, there IS a swan in Parsifal, but it is not the one in the Leo
>>Slezak story. The Parsifal swan is shot and killed by the young
>>Parsifal early in the first act.
>
>Does this answer the earlier opera question - which characters (outside
>the Ring) appear in more than one opera by a given composer?
If you mean the swan, I don't think so.
It seems that the events in Parsifal take place before those in Lohengrin:
Unless "Parsifal" and "Parzival" are two different persons, Parsifal may
well be Lohengrin's father ("mein Vater Parzival..")
If this is so, it couldn't have been the same swan since it had already been
killed in Parsifal.
Admittedly, this interpretation (i.e. relating the two operas) may not have
been Wagner's intention - and it does cause this question come up: how on
earth was Parsifal able to originate Lohengrin - considering the strict
celibacy (?) of the Knights - and maintain his position as the King?
(Sorry if this was a dumb question :-)
Mike Quigley
>
> A friend told me a bout a performance of the 1812 Overture at a Fourth of
> July concert in his hometown in Oklahoma. Some local guy had forged his
> own cannon, and that was going to be the big community attraction for
> this guy to get to show off his cannon.
>
In a Vancouver Symphony performance of Lukas Foss' Baroque Variations, where
the percussion goes ape-shit in the last movement (ad-lib?), the tympani
player fired off a starting pistol. This prompted the freaked-out lead
trumpet player to say something nasty after the concert, since he wasn't
expecting this. The tympani player retaliated by threatening to sue the
trumpet player!
David W Hatunen
Igor, so what the hell). Arizona Light Opera Company (Tucson). Big
music hall.
I played two parts: the Wazir and the Imam that opens the show with
'Princes Come ...'.
For the curtain rise I was blocked to rise and carry
a lantern across upstage. But as I opened my mouth to sing, I realized
that it was very hard to to hear the music. Looking downstage, I
realized that the pit elevator had not completely risen, and the
orchestra was playing deep down in the hole. I was already a couple
beats behind. I moved far downstage but all that I could see was the
conductor's hand reaching up out of the darkness in the light of the pin
spot aimed at him. He was trying to help me find the way, but since I
couldn't hear the music and catch up, it was a lost cause.
--
--------- DAVE HATUNEN (hat...@netcom.com) ----------
----- Daly City California: almost San Francisco -----
Lamont Downs
year at Eastman (1968) I signed up for a season ticket for the Rochester
Philharmonic concert series, at that time conducted by Laszlo Somogyi (sp?).
The very first concert featured Haydn's no. 90 in C. Somogyi was rather
unpopular with the student body at that time and apparently someone decided
to express this in an unusual way, because about 5 minutes into the second
movement a ping pong ball fell from above the stage (this was in the
Eastman Theater), followed by a few more, then a shower. I think the final
total was later announced to be several hundred. The orchestra just fell
apart, Somogyi stalked offstage, and it took about 15 minutes and the
combined persuasive efforts of the concertmaster, first violist and
first violoncellist to get him to resume.
Meanwhile the musicians fidgeted on stage, occasionally kicking an errant
ping pong ball into the audience which was in a state of shock (Rochester
is a rather staid town for this sort of thing). Somogyi finally returned
and, as I recall, announced in his Hungarian accent "I have spoken with
Mr. Haydn and he is suing everybody!" For a long time afterwards the
Haydn Symphony no. 90 held the nickname among a certain part of the student
body of the "Table Tennis Symphony" (after all, most of the other late
symphonies have nicknames...)
The perpetrators were never identified, although there were of course
rumors and certain names bandied about, including that of a later-to-be-
well-known music critic... (My lips are sealed).
Lamont Downs
do...@nevada.edu
Deryk Barker
:
: If anyone has ever been to the LSO (London Symphony Orchestra) in ONTARIO
: (yes london ontario, not london england)
Except their real name is Orchestra London. I know this because a
friend of mine is their Communications Manager. Mind you, I think they
definitely missed a trick *not* calling themselves the LSO...
Darin Wilkins
My highschool band director used to tell us the following story, which
happened sometime around 1930, at the Univ of Minnesota (as I recall.
One of the Big 10 U's anyway).
The University band was giving an indoor concert. One of the pieces to
be be performed was Tchaikovsky's _1812 Overture_. No cannons suitable
for an indoor performance were available, so the director decided to
use several shotguns, loaded with blank shot, for the artillery effects.
The night of the performance came and the band is playing 1812, with
great gusto. Soon it was time for the first artillery barrage. The
shotgun 'players' raised their guns, pointed them at the ceiling (they
didn't want any debris, or smoke, to go into the audience), and fired a
staggered salvo into the air.
Unknown to anyone, a couple of the campus wiseguys had climbed up into
the open framework over the stage before the concert began. They were
awaiting this moment. Letting a few seconds pass after the last
shotgun had fired, they began dropping *real* dead ducks onto the stage
below. (Nice shooting, guys!)
In addition to causing the audience to break up completely, this ruined
the band members too. They were unable to continue the performance, so
this ended the concert - with a bang, I might add :-).
I don't know what happened to the pranksters. I hope the University
administration had a sense of humor!
darin
wil...@scubed.com
________________________________
| |
| I will be President for food |
|______________________________|
Bill_P...@cup.portal.com
a performance of Mozart's "Magic Flute" at the Zurich Opera about 20 years
ago. The flute which is given to Tamino had several rather long tassels
attached to it, which turned out to be a bad idea. When the three Ladies
were handing Papageno his set of bells they somehow got the tassels of the
flute caught in the bells and coouldn't seem to get them out. They started
to giggle, then the audience started to titter. The conductor kept the
music going and they finally got the two separated, but it was a close
call, I think.
Bill Pearce
Bill_P...@cup.portal.com
was Simon Barere, in Carnegie Hall in 1951. He may be the only pianist
to die during a performance but not the only musician. One other I can
think of offhand is the baritone Leonard Warren, who died during a
performance at the Met of La Forza del Destino.
Bill Pearce
Arto Wikla
was quite small, and we had a continuo group in both sides for
making 'stereo effects'. There were one theorbo (=chitarrone) in
both sides. That instrument has quite long extension neck, and
during a very passionate solo by Diana, her dress was stuck to
the theorbo neck (luckily it wasn't mine, but the one in the
ohter side). The dressing style in the opera was a bit like
modern night-club style, and the poor Diana was trying to get
rid of the theorbo singing all the time her song... And the
theorbo-player was playing with his swinging instrument...
At last they managed, but we players and the audience could
not resist laughing. Only much later Diana thought, it was funny...
Arto Wikla, Helsinki, Finland
Mark Bartelt
| how on
| earth was Parsifal able to originate Lohengrin - considering the strict
| celibacy (?) of the Knights - and maintain his position as the King?
| (Sorry if this was a dumb question :-)
Yeah, I've always wondered the same thing. Not just with regard to Parsifal
and Lohengrin, but what about Titurel and Amfortas? Maybe Amfortas was born
before Titurel built Monsalvat. And I suppose that Parsifal might have sowed
some wild oats back in his swan-hunting days, only to have his offspring show
up years later ... ;-)
Mark Bartelt 416/978-5619
Canadian Institute for ma...@cita.toronto.edu
Theoretical Astrophysics ma...@cita.utoronto.ca
Mark Bartelt
anyway ...
Back in whatever year it was that Los Angeles finally got a resident opera
company, I happened to be in the area for a meeting during the time that they
were doing Tristan. As the curtain went up for the first act, there was a
loud metallic clattering sound from above the stage, as if a large metal rod
of some sort had fallen and was bouncing around on the catwalk. It did sort
of break the mood, but these things happen.
Later, as the curtain went up for the second act, it happened *again*. This
time, many people in the audience chuckled a bit. The conductor (Mehta, if
I recall correctly) looked noticeably annoyed.
Of course, when the third act began, everybody was wondering whether it would
happen one more time. It didn't, but you could feel the tension/anticipation.
Braden Mechley
It's a shame that such details as these are being captioned with the heading
"Embarrasing/Funny Moments ..."
In any event, to supplement the list of artists who perished in performance:
the tenor John Alexander died immediately after singing an encore in a concert
he was giving. Ironically, the aria was "Nessun dorma."
Braden Mechley
Department of Classics
University of Washington
Robin Hilliard
: The pianist who died in the middle of performing the Grieg Concerto
The well known organist Louis Vierne died during a performance at Notre Dame
in 1937. He had just been handed a theme for improvisation, had pulled a
few stops and keeled over (extremely noisily) onto the pedal board.
There was some conductor in the last century who, while tapping out time
with his conductor's staff (this was in the time before batons, remember)
accidentally clobbered his right foot. He developed gangrene that evening
and was dead the following day.
C'est la vie.
robin hilliard.
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+--[ Tu es Petra, et Portae Inferi non praevalebunt adversus Te. ]--+
Ellen L. Denham
sys...@helios.physics.utoro
nto.ca (Mark Bartelt) writes:
> [ Topi Ylinen ]
>
> | how
on
> | earth was Parsifal able to originate Lohengrin - considering the strict
> | celibacy (?) of the Knights - and maintain his position as the King?
> | (Sorry if this was a dumb question :-)
>
> Yeah, I've always wondered the same thing. Not just with regard to
Parsifal
> and Lohengrin, but what about Titurel and Amfortas? Maybe Amfortas was
born
> before Titurel built Monsalvat. And I suppose that Parsifal might have
sowed
> some wild oats back in his swan-hunting days, only to have his offspring
show
> up years later ... ;-)
>
> Mark Bartelt
416/978-5619
If I recall correctly, only the king was allowed to sire children (otherwise
how would he get an heir?).
Ellen Denham
--
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Department of Computer Science, Duke University, Durham, NC 27708
Internet: el...@cs.duke.edu
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Erika Reiman
>Bill_P...@cup.portal.com wrote:
>
>
>There was some conductor in the last century who, while tapping out time
>with his conductor's staff (this was in the time before batons, remember)
>accidentally clobbered his right foot. He developed gangrene that evening
>and was dead the following day.
>
>C'est la vie.
(C'etait la vie?) That was Lully, who died in 1687. My handy-dandy
Concise Oxford Dictionary says he was conducting a Te Deum which was
-- ironically -- written to celebrate the recovery of Louis XIV from
an illness.
>
>robin hilliard.
>
-Erika
Mark Basinski
Hilliard) wrote:
>
> There was some conductor in the last century who, while tapping out time
> with his conductor's staff (this was in the time before batons, remember)
> accidentally clobbered his right foot. He developed gangrene that evening
> and was dead the following day.
>
> C'est la vie.
>
was conducting a very large ensemble (more than 100
instrumentalists/voices)
in his "Te Deum" and struck himself in the toe with his staff. Gangrene did
set in, but I don't believe it was quite so fast; supposedly Lully refused
to allow the surgeons to amputate the toe when it became gangrenous, then
later refused to permit amputation of the foot, then later refused to
allow amputation of the leg, and eventually died.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Mark Basinski Internet: basi...@biosci.arizona.edu
phoog...@eagle.wesleyan.edu
> There was some conductor in the last century who, while tapping out time
> with his conductor's staff (this was in the time before batons, remember)
> accidentally clobbered his right foot. He developed gangrene that evening
> and was dead the following day.
>
> C'est la vie.
C'est la mort
>
> robin hilliard.
Peter Hoogenboom
>
> +-------------------------------------------------------------------+
> | The Software Loft, Kiemar House, Shanakiel Rd, Cork City, Ireland |
> | Tel: [+353] 21 302511 Fax: [+353] 21 343562 |
> | Internet: soft...@bureau.ucc.ie CompuServe: 100042, 1237 |
> +--[ Tu es Petra, et Portae Inferi non praevalebunt adversus Te. ]--+
ego sum Petra?
Karl Snow
> In article <1993May6.1...@spang.Camosun.BC.CA> dba...@spang.Camosun.BC.CA (Deryk Barker) writes:
> >hk...@phakt.usc.edu (Howard Koo) writes:
> >: Judging on the responses from my "Musicians' Personalities" post,
> >: I think some of you are really looking for some FUN. So, as a sequel, why not
> >: talk about some of those "not so proud" moments you have seen or participated
> >: (yeah right!) at concerts and operas. :)
> >
> >Well everyone here is too young, but there was the famous occasion at
> >the Vienna opera when Leo Slezak was singing Parsifal. The swan he was
> >supposed to go offstage in (on) moved before it was supposed to.
> >Slezak immediately turned to the audience and asked 'what time does
> >the next swan leave?'
>
> To my knowledge there are no swans in Parsifal, I think you mean Tannhauser.
> :-)
>
Well, there is at least one swan in Parsifal, deceased. But, the swan which
serves as a taxi appears in Lohengrin.
--Karl Snow
Braden Mechley
>Bill_P...@cup.portal.com wrote:
>with his conductor's staff (this was in the time before batons, remember)
>accidentally clobbered his right foot. He developed gangrene that evening
>and was dead the following day.
>
>C'est la vie.
The French is appropriate, here -- this conductor (better known to us as a
composer) was Jean-Baptiste Lully.
Michael Davidson
Louis Vierne is supposed to have died during an organ recital that
he was giving at Notre Dame ....
Bradley Philip Lehman
to gangrene.
I was in a church performance of Britten's "Noye's Fludde" about five
years ago, in a pickup orchestra. The timpanist had a heart attack and
died, during the performance.
At that same church, coincidentally, I heard Wolfgang Rubsam play half
a concert in 1985. He was in such pain from acute appendicitis that he
had to go directly to the hospital after the first half (which he had
played from memory, exquisitely). He's fine now.
Martyn R. Mellodew
this:
This happened in the pit at the Coliseum, London, and it involved a telephone.
Most big pits have a telephone by the conductor so that he can communicate
with the men backstage at the beginning of each act, so he knows when they
are ready. The pit manager of the Coliseum had left a few weeks previously
to work at the Barbican, and on this particular night he had come back to the
Coliseum, hoping to meet a few old mates and go to the pub. He was at the stage
door and requested to be put through on the telephone to the pit manager's
office. Someone must have mis-heard him, and got the `pit' bit, but not the
`manager' bit, because he got through to the pit. So Charles McKerras was
conducting away when, suddenly, the telephone beside him started to ring. I
think he kept conducting with one hand and answered the phone with the other,
and was invited to the pub.
By the way, I'm collecting all these stories together and putting them into a
huge file. (65K last time I looked!) So if anyone has a ridiculous amount of
disk space and wants all these anecdotes, let me know.
Regards,
Martyn R. Mellodew. (u0...@compsci.liverpool.ac.uk)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Martyn R. Mellodew, | E-mail: u0...@compsci.liverpool.ac.uk
Department of Applied Mathematics | ARPA/Internet: u0...@csc.liv.ac.uk
and Theoretical Physics, | JANET: u0...@uk.ac.liv.csc
The University of Liverpool, |
P.O. Box 147, |
Liverpool, |
England, |
L69 9BX. | `Dubito ergo Deus est.'
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
jack pines
>To return to the original subject of funny moments at concerts ...
I had been reading this thread for a while when I realized that I too
knew a funny concert story.
A few years ago, my wife and I were at the San Francisco Opera's
August Merola Program performance of La Traviata at Villa Montalvo.
This is a beautiful natural amphitheater behind an old mansion on the
side of a hill. The performance was excellent despite the location of
our seats at the back. Just as Violetta was beginning her ultimate
recitative, a tiny terrified snake started making its way down the rows
from the back. On the stage we had Violetta dying. In the foreground
we got to watch each row in turn discover and deal with the snake. The
poor soprano must have questioned her acting ability to see the agitated
rear audience fighting to suppress laughter as her character stood at the
edge of eternity.
jack pines p...@netcom.com
Mark Gresham
Some years ago when the DeKalb (Georgia) Choral Guild performed
"Elijah" as the Soloist portraying Elijah started to prophesy
drought it began, of course, to thunder and rain -- hard -- and
all the more audible due to the glass skylight in the ceiling of
the auditorium.
Cheers,
Mark
=====
Ellen L. Denham
true, but here goes:
Before opening night of a performance of the Messiah, the tenor soloist
became very ill, and the conductor had to work fast to try to find a
substitute. An Italian tenor came in, and was asked to start the aria
"Comfort Ye." He started to sing: "Comfort ye. Co........mfort ye..."
after which the conductor said, "Fine, we can use him." During the
performance, he began to sing the aria. "Comfort ye. Co.......mfort ye my
pee-OH-play!" Apparently, he was not familiar with English diction!
Along the same lines, a recording I have heard of Dido and Aeneas with a
German cast has Dido singing in her lament: "May my wrongs create no
tru-bu-ble, no tru-bu-ble in thy breast!"
Just two instances of foriegn singers murdering English; I would be willing
to bet there are more instances of English-speaking singers murdering
Italian or German (As in "Mamma, si Mamma" instead of "m'ama, si m'ama)!
John Altinbay
>
>Just two instances of foriegn singers murdering English; I would be willing
>to bet there are more instances of English-speaking singers murdering
>Italian or German (As in "Mamma, si Mamma" instead of "m'ama, si m'ama)!
>
Maybe, but isn't English the only language where singers are
trained to use pronunciation that is unlike the way *anybody*
actually speaks it? If a similar travesty were to be wreaked
on French, German or Italian, there would be massive howls (come
to think of it, there *are* massive howls when that happens).
--
John Altinbay - alti...@netcom.com
===============================================================
There's a spirit that guides me, a light that shines for me
My life is worth the living, I don't need to see the end.