On orchestral sound and warhorse concerti

This post, I suppose, follows on from my previous one, in which I tried to explain why I feel so strongly about the seating of violins in orchestras. However, I need not labour that point any further. In this post, I wish to explore further how orchestral sound has changed in modern times and why we, as listeners, should care.

As I write, I am listening to a new recording of the Tchaikovsky and Mendelssohn violin concerti, performed by Ray Chen and accompanied by the Swedish Radio Symphony Orchestra under Daniel Harding. Not long into the Tchaikovsky I realised that, whenever I listen to new concerto recordings or performances, I am far more interested in the orchestral accompaniment than the soloist's contribution. Given that I am a conductor, I don't suppose many will find this to be a surprise. I tend to find that if a soloist is particularly special then my attention can be prized away from the accompaniment to their star turn, whether they are serving the music at hand or detracting from it.

Daniel Harding (courtesy of www.danielharding.com)

This disc is very good, I should add. However, I am most impressed in this case by the orchestra and conductor. The jury seems still to be out in the critical press about Daniel Harding but I have always been impressed by him both on disc and in the concert hall. He seems to be one of the wunderkinds who sensibly withdrew from the initial limelight to go and brush up their skills with 'lesser names' in Europe, such as the Bremen Kammerphilharmonie and now the Swedish RSO. My impression is that he takes great care over orchestral sound: dividing his violins is de rigeur for him, bass sound is full but lithe, mid (viola!) sounds are ever present, string articulation and phrasing in Romantic repertoire is punchy yet cultured, timpani sticks are generally on the hard side and woodwind contributions have personality. All of this adds up to my preferred sort of orchestral sound. 

Now, some of these things are relatively easy to achieve as a conductor (eg. seating plans, timp heads/sticks) and others will take much more time and skill and will, of course, depend on the orchestra both in terms of their 'usual' corporate sound and the individual players. Some of these things will require the conductor to be a very good communicator of their vision as not all orchestral musicians conceive the totality of what their orchestra sounds like. Why should they? However, the conductor can at least reassure him- or herself that they have an important role to play in this regard.

The Problem of Orchestral Homogeneity

Commentators often bemoan the fact that orchestras sound much more similar today than they did, say, fifty years ago. I do not disagree with this. Nevertheless, I can still play 'guess the orchestra' when listening to Radio 3 with some success. Many of the great orchestras still have traces, to lesser or greater degrees, of their 20th century personalities. I am going to pin the blame for the apparent trend towards homogeneity of sound on one Herbert von Karajan. This is an oversimplification, of course, but here's why:

Firstly, I should declare that, whilst I do own several recordings by Karajan that I treasure, on the whole I tend to steer clear of buying them. That is largely because I dislike the conception of orchestral sound that he cultivated, particularly in his later years. He was a most prolific recording artist and the 70s and 80s were choc full of recordings from him and the Berliners. His idea of 'perfect' orchestral sound seemed to be this homogeneous, blended sonority. Sure, the 'phwum' of the BPO sound is truly a wonder of nature but, on disc at least, it is often terribly opaque.

Herbert von Karajan - a conductor who knew what sound he wanted and how to achieve it.

As Karajan and the BPO became recording artists par excellence, so others began to emulate this idea of the 'perfect' orchestral sound. Other orchestras that were prolific on disc in the 80s, such as the CBSO and Oslo Philharmonic, fell into this trap of homogeneity and, whilst many of their recordings are exciting for other reasons, the orchestral sound is bland and uninteresting - devoid of personality. These ensembles have only in more recent times begun to redress this situation. It may be that the recording engineers, venues and/or early digital sound did them few favours, of course. In fact, most recordings from this era document the journey of many orchestras into homogeneity of sound.

The Berlin sound is still rather opaque on disc (EMI do their best, I'm sure, to work miracles with the acoustic of the Philharmonie). Combine this with the fact that I have never really been a Rattle admirer and the result is that I am uninspired with many of their recent releases. However, I am very impressed with their Digital Concert Hall, which allows everyone with a decent internet connection to see and hear many of their concerts past and present. For all that I have said about their sound, they are truly a force of nature and a joy to behold as musicians (not many orchestras will feature as many smiling and visibly 'feeling' musicians as this!).

I do not perceive the BPO to have the quintessential 'German' sound; that is, dark and warm string sonority and fruity woodwind (particularly clarinets) contributions. For this, I rely on the still-distinctive Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra and Dresden Staatskapelle, amongst others. Riccardo Chailly, who conducts the former, is well known for caring for and cultivating an orchestra's traditional sound, as exemplified by his tenure with the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra. He really has made the LGO Germany's current best and one whose recordings I have been lapping up. Many of Germany's 'provincial' orchestras retain a great deal of character, too.

Riccardo Chailly and Nelson Freire preside over a recording of the Brahms piano concerti in which the  Leipzig Gewandhausorchester really show off their sonority. Heartily recommended!

Other distinctive orchestras to listen out for include the Helsingborg Symphony Orchestra, now under the direction of our very own Andrew Manze. Take a listen to their new Brahms orchestral works set to hear some gorgeous bassoon playing and, wait for this, horn vibrato! What a difference such details make in today's so-called homogeneous orchestral sounds. You can find perky bassoonists in Andrew Litton's Bergen Philharmonic, another ensemble growing in personality and stature. The more familiar examples of distinctive sound include, of course, the Vienna Philharmonic (the original period instrument orchestra) and the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra, whose sound has developed in symbiosis with their wondrous hall acoustic. Chailly's Mahler cycle is a demonstration of their delicious woodwind sound and brass vibrato.

What of the UK Orchestras?

Closer to home, we now have the LSO not afraid to sport a wonderfully strident trumpet vibrato (usually under Gergiev but more generally adopted now) and a double bass section full of personality. Check out their Strauss Alpine Symphony recording under Bernard Haitink to hear all this in action. The LSO has always been the great chameleon orchestra, combining a trademark virtuosity but soaking up various sound cultures (European, American, Russian) as required by the repertoire and demanded by the conductor. The 'next best' (IMHO) LPO now has no less a cultured sound but an element of welcome grittiness as imparted by the ever-thinking Vladimir Jurowski. Their ability to switch their instruments for period-influenced performance is also second to none in the UK. The Philharmonia retains a solid and cultured European-ish sound but is sonically uninteresting to me.

The BBC orchestras this side of the Irish Sea tend to sport a punchy sound as imparted by their respective timpanists but tend to lack warmth, which can be useful in some repertoire. The BBCSSO is becoming warmer, however, under the direction of Donald Runnicles. I am excited about the return of Sakari Oramo to these shores to take to the helm of the BBCSO, which has largely been caretaken in more recent years. The Halle, under Sir Mark Elder, has cultivated a lovely string sound - reminiscent of Vienna in some ways. Lyn Fletcher, their excellent and approachable leader, informed me once that this was mostly unconscious but I did notice that the players sported a particular and similar vibrato that newer members probably absorb through osmosis.

American, French, and Russian Accents

Here I expect that I am descending into lazy stereotyping: American orchestras retain their reputation for machine-like precision imbued with a certain amount of European warmth. The Philadelphians are always worth a listen for their trademark lushness of string sound. You can still detect a bit of horn vibrato and the distinctive French woodwind sounds in French orchestras. A recent release of the Orchestra Nationale du Capitole de Toulouse under Tugan Sokhiev of Tchaikovsky's 5th symphony reminded me of this. More disappointingly, the stridency of brass sound that was once a feature of Soviet orchestras has been somewhat 'filed down' in their modern descendents, such as the Russian National Orchestra and the St Petersburg Philharmonic.

Elsewhere

It is perhaps a little glib of me to suggest that Scandinavian orchestras have an element of 'coolness' to their orchestral sound. However, this is true to a certain extent and can lend a certain amount of objectivity to the music. I find it works well in 'indigenous' music such as Sibelius and Grieg. The Lahti Symphony and Helsinki Philharmonic have produced some of the finest Sibelius symphony cycles in recent memory.

Finally, I should mention that there are a number of young orchestras that have sprung up in Asia, in particular, that sport a rather clean and clinical sound but some, such as the Singapore Symphony Orchestra, do at least opt for a tasteful amount of trumpet vibrato in the Russian repertoire - nice! 

The fact that so many orchestras have retained their personalities, albeit somewhat diminished over the years, is one surely to be celebrated. It gives the listener much to enjoy and listen out for and is certainly a reason to keep buying their respective records. And, with all due respect to some fantastic instrumental soloists, it is reason enough to continue buying recordings of some of those 'warhorse' concerti that keep popping up!

Divided violins - Sir Adrian would be pleased.

Sir Adrian Boult would be pleased.

I thought it was worth finally posting on an issue close to my heart. A good friend and marvellous bass player recently suggested (and I'm not sure she was joking) that I was "belligerently antiphonal violins". I don't like to think that I am belligerently anything but in musical terms I suppose this is true.

Firstly, I want to draw readers' attentions to the major British orchestra/music director combinations that currently seat their violin sections opposite one another, in what I shall hereon refer to as the 'traditional' layout:

LSO/Gergiev 
LPO/Jurowski 
Halle/Elder 
Northern Sinfonia/Zehetmair 
RSNO/Deneve 
SCO/Ticciati 
BBCSSO/Runnicles

and the ones that retain what I shall refer to as the 'modern' layout, ie. violins seated all together on the left:

Philharmonia/Salonen 
RPO/Dutoit 
CBSO/Nelsons 
RLPO/Petrenko 
BBCPO/Mena 
BBCNOW/Fischer

I should add that the BBCSO under Belohlavek dabble in both layouts, depending on repertoire. This is an approach that could be considered to be thoughtful but, ultimately, unhelpful. The following notable international combinations also currently favour the 'traditional' layout:

Berliner Philharmoniker/Rattle 
Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchester/Chailly 
Bamberg SO/Nott 
NYPO/Gilbert 
Boston SO/Levine 
San Francisco SO/MTT 
Dresden Staatskapelle/Thielemann 
Cleveland Orchestra/Welser-Most 
Royal Stockholm PO/Oramo 
Russian NO/Pletnev

And the notable international 'modern' combinations:

Chicago SO/Muti 
Philadelphia Orchestra/Nezet-Seguin 
Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra/Jansons

These are the ones that spring foremost into my mind and there will be others, I am sure. The distribution in these lists is quite remarkable; to me, anyway. Even ten years ago the proportion of top-flight orchestras sporting the 'traditional' violin layout was small indeed (just pop the LSO, LPO, RSNO and BBCSSO into the 'modern' list and you will see what I mean just from the British perspective). I recall, when setting up my own orchestra in 2005, feeling like I was bucking the trend by opting for antiphonal violins.

An orchestra, probably the predecessor of the SFSO, in San Francisco, 1894

Elgar with the LSO in 1911

Mahler conducting Beethoven's 9th symphony in Strasbourg, 1905

Why am I even bothering to write about such a triviality? The objective part of me is nagging me that the layout should not matter. It probably does not matter for the majority of concert-goers for whom the 'modern' layout seems quite normal. History tells us that there is a good reason for that. The middle of the 20th century saw a great shift from what was the 19th and early 20th century norm of antiphonal violins (see the above photographs) towards the almost uniform adoption of violins seated all together. And who should we blame/thank for this? Our very own orchestral moderniser, Sir Henry Wood.

Henry Wood in 1908 as painted by Cyrus Cuneo

Wood was responsible for many innovations in British orchestral life. He was a great supporter of female instrumentalists being taken on in orchestras and was, of course, a major figure in championing Robert Newman's Promenade concerts that are still going strong today. He also tried to do away with the practice of players deputising for his concerts which, notoriously, led to the formation of the London Symphony Orchestra in 1904. Wood was a keen innovator and was happy to experiment with various forms of orchestral layout.  It is not clear whether the practice of seating the first and second violins together was his idea to begin with. Wood was a popular guest conductor both in Europe and North America and he may well have been inspired by an idea being tried in the latter continent. In any case, his New Queens Hall Orchestra (sans those truculent LSO players!) were the perfect vehicle for him to try out the new layout.  Here they are pictured in the lovely Queens Hall in 1920:

Sir Henry Wood conducting the New Queens Hall Orchestra in 1920

Wood would have soon noticed the plush string sound that could be achieved in this formation and it was not long before other conductors began to experiment with this layout for themselves. Stokowski was another famous convert. The 'Stokowski' sound of the Philadelphia Orchestra was no doubt attributed to this sort of string layout on stage. Here, however, he can be seen using the 'tradional' layout for the American premiere of Mahler's 8th symphony in 1916, clearly not yet a convert:

Leopold Stokowski with the Philadelphia Orchestra in 1916

Other notable converts included Beecham, Bernstein, van Beinum and Karajan. That they were such giants in the middle part of the 20th century probably explains why the trend towards the 'modern' violin layout was so strong. The previous generation of conducting giants, such as Toscanini, Klemperer, Monteux, Mengelberg, Weingartner, Reiner, Mravinsky and Furtwangler continued to use the 'traditional' violin layout but it sadly all but died out with them. Unfortunately, this coincided with the development of stereo recording techniques. As such, most recordings from the stereo era (late 1950s to the present) captured the aural geography of the 'modern' layout: treble to the left and bass to the right - a most dissatisfying listening experience for me, at least, but one I largely grew up with and knew little better than.

There was, however, an apparently lone warrier: Sir Adrian Boult. He was well-known to be a most polite gentleman but his feelings on this matter were very strong indeed. You will encounter them in his books and conducting texts. His famous letter to Gramophone magazine in January 1968 documents his well-contained fury at having been forced to adopt the 'modern' violin layout for his latest recordings of the Elgar symphonies with the LPO by Lyrita Records. His argument was thus:

"I want to know whether your readers would like to hear most of their treble sound coming from the left speaker and the bass from the right or whether they want a balanced whole? With that balanced whole they will get the antiphonal effect between violins so often written for by composers from Mozart to Elgar. With the modern placing they will sometimes get a fuller sound when the firsts and seconds play in unison, but it seems to me the only advantage; while subtle effects, like Beethoven's scoring at the sixth bar of the Fifth Symphony, will come to them as from a pianoforte arrangement."

This caused quite a stir in the Gramophone correspondence columns but the overwhelming majority of readers seemed to agree with Sir Adrian. Alas, the majority of his conducting colleagues did not. Some of his acolytes kept the tradition afloat (Handley, Hickox, more recently before his untimely death, and even Sir Colin Davis on the odd occasion) but it was not for some decades that the recent trend back towards the 'traditional' layout occurred. The result for me, at least, is quite exciting.  It means that many a new recording, even of core repertoire, will be only one of a handful to feature antiphonal violins captured in glorious stereo and so a great voyage of discovery lies ahead. One should not forget the great stereo recordings of Boult, Klemperer, Monteux and Reiner, of course. I was reminded of this just last night when listening to Boult conducting various London orchestras in a fine set of Wagner preludes and overtures. A future post will draw readers' attentions to some exciting new recordings featuring antiphonal violins that shed new light on familiar works.

It hardly needs saying that violins are just one aspect of the orchestral layout. With violins seated antiphonally, the cellos can be seated either to the left of centre or to the right.  Some of my players refer to these layouts, respectively, as "wrong seating number one and "wrong seating number two" which, rather charmingly, illustrates just how ingrained the 'modern' seating plan is in musicians even today.  Whilst I prefer the former arrangement I have been known to experiment with the latter (which may suit pieces with passages involving unison violin 1 and viola melodies particularly well). The important aspect of both of these arrangements is having the bass sound concentrated within the orchestra - a firm foundation upon which all else is built. As a conductor, one can focus this by having the celli, double basses and bassoons all in the same line of sight.

There are numerous ways to position the woodwind and brass instruments, of course, but I do not have the space to discuss these here. I would refer the curious reader to Norman Del Mar's essential 'Anatomy of the Orchestra' for further reading in this respect.  It can be found at a most reasonable price from a second-hand bookseller. Del Mar has much to say on the issue of string seating and includes relevant musical examples that highlight the benefits of antiphonal violins. 

If anyone asks me why I seat violins antiphonally I simply refer them to the music: the symphonies and concerti of Mozart, Haydn, Beethoven, Schumann, Brahms, Mahler, Elgar and many more besides. All these benefit from the 'traditional' layout.  However, I would go further than this: I assert that there are very few works that truly benefit from the 'modern' layout and so there is little reason for orchestras now to be regularly seated as such.  Certainly, one can understand the reasons why the 'modern' layout was adopted at the time it was. After the first world war and beyond, the standard of major symphony orchestras was at a low ebb and the new layout probably helped to significantly develop the quality of British ensemble playing in the 20th century. Also, the new British orchestras such as the BBCSO, LPO, RPO and Philharmonia quickly became the best in their league by recruiting the best players in the interwar and post-WW2 period and so they became the standard by which other orchestras were measured, both here and abroad.  It just so happened that they were conducted, mostly, by fellows who were converts to the 'modern' layout in their infancy. In the interests of balance, here is Sir Adrian caught in the act of 'trying' his mentor, Wood's layout, with his new BBCSO:

The BBCSO with Sir Adrian Boult in 1930

The standard of modern orchestral playing is far superior to that even in the mid-20th century and so antiphonally-seated violins should pose no difficulties for today's players.  Some musicians argue that 20th century composers would have been composing with the 'modern' layout in mind.  I would say that this is largely untrue.  Many of the more famous composers of the 20th century, such as Prokofiev, Sibelius, Strauss, Shostakovich, Stravinsky etc. would have 'grown up' with the sound of orchestras adopting the 'traditional' layout. The 'modern' layout only really became predominant from the 1950s and so it is unlikely that it would have truly influenced the writing in the majority of works from these composers.  How many works would really have been written to take advantage of the violins being seated together?

There are also arguments of pragmatism thrown around. Certainly, there are pieces in which it is far more straightforward to have the violins seated together. The division of the violins in Shostakovich's 5th symphony is a classic example of this.  However, this did not stop Mravinsky using the 'tradional' layout or Gergiev or Eschenbach, in this piece.  It just requires more thought. 

In amateur orchestras, second violin sections often feature weaker players who will either sink or swim if placed to the right of the conductor. I have found that, more often than not, such players rise to the occasion rather than lose confidence. Once these players are accustomed to the new sound world on stage they tend to adjust well. I have also found that seating them to my right increases their confidence when they would otherwise have been hidden away behind the firsts.  However, a conductor would be unwise to adjust the seating upon their first visit to an orchestra. This could rapidly diminish the already fragile nascent relationship between guest conductor and orchestra. In amateur ensembles, such seating adjustment takes time unless it is instituted at their outset.

I think it will be obvious, then, to the reader that I consider the seating of violin sections together to be uncalled for in both amateur and professional circumstances.  There are rare exceptions in which the conductor should consider seating them together but the uniform expectation of such a layout is merely a generational 'blip'. It is important that younger generations of musicians are educated in both the historical context and the virtues of antiphonal violins. Many well-informed colleagues and musicians still think that antiphonal violins represent some quaint 'European' style or that a certain limited period of repertoire justifies the layout on occasion. I am cheered, however, by the great musicians who have switched their allegiance over the years, even in their later years. I am thinking of Chailly, Rattle, Haitink, Gergiev and Barenboim. How I wish Mr Nelsons in Birmingham would do the same (alas, his mentor is Mariss Jansons, whose mentor was Karajan himself) and Mr Petrenko in Liverpool. This is not an argument for homogeneity between orchestras, something I bemoan often enough. Orchestras can, of course, differ in personality even if their violins are divided consistently.  Maybe the best and most reasonable outcome I can hope for is a healthy mix of the two layouts.

Still, looking back at those lists at the top of the post, I can't help feeling that Sir Adrian would indeed be pleased at the way things are going.




Photographic sources: www.stokowski.org, en.wikipedia.org, www.musicalpointers.co.uk, www.nqho.com

Listening on a shoestring...

Listening is (or, at least, should be) something of a necessity on a conductor's person specification.  Clearly, we do it during rehearsal and performance but it is not often that conductors talk about the listening they do outside of this more public forum.  A few are occasionally spotted in the audience at concerts and the opera house but it seems that the majority of the more celebrated conductors are happy to perpetuate the idea that they somehow generate their inspiration in a vacuum, uninfluenced by their contemporaries and predecessors on the podium.

It was, therefore, refreshing to see, in a recent Gramophone interview, Ricardo Chailly discussing the conductors, past and present, whose performances had informed his interpretations in his exhilarating new Beethoven symphony cycle.  This great conductor had suddenly became a mere mortal and my respect for him only grew as a result.  He remains one of the few 'great' conductors to discuss such influences.

Similarly, listening and watching performances, past and present, has been a crucial part of my development as a conductor.  I have been fortunate to have lived in cities with world-class concert halls (Birmingham and Manchester) and, particularly as a student, have made these my second homes.  As a student in Manchester I would attend concerts maybe once or twice a week (oh, how I miss the student prices!).  Then, as now, I would find my eyes glued to the conductor, trying to work out exactly what gestures were producing this sound and that.

Live performance is but a small element of my 'non-working' listening, however.  The size of my CD collection, augmented by the invisible bulk of MP3 downloads, is testament to much of the rest. Surely, a conductor should be familiar with the recorded 'literature' in the same way that one might expect a writer to be familiar with the written and printed repertoire in their genre?  Perhaps this is not the most suitable comparison but I suspect that you will get my point.  We are fortunate to have the interpretations of great conductors throughout the 20th century preserved on disc or, even better, on video.  The multitude of clips available on YouTube allow us to study their gestures and interpretations as never before and see how the various schools and techniques of conducting have evolved.

All of this is a convoluted prelude to what I hope will be of use to anyone reading my very first blog. I wanted to share the apparatus through which I hear much of what I have referred to above: my headphones.  I have got through quite a number of different pairs over the years but I cannot claim to be any kind of expert in this matter.  However, the two sets that I currently own were an astonishing bargain and worth sharing with readers:

For home listening, these are a snip at around £20:

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Goldring-DR100-Headphones-Wired/dp/B000R99Q5O/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1331497328&sr=8-2

They have a very long cable for wandering around the room and the cable disconnects from the headphones, which is useful when you stretch it just that bit too far on your travels.  The sound really is very good for headphones in this price bracket.  The open back design means that nobody will wish to share the room with you due to the sound leakage but it ensures you get a really wide, open sound stage, so important for the classical listener.  I have not heard them distort yet, even during the loudest demonstration of the 'Resurrection' symphony.

For out and about (which is where I do most of my listening), try these:

http://www.amazon.co.uk/MEElectronics-Balanced-Armature-In-Ear-Headphone/dp/B004OBZ2XQ/ref=sr_1_1?s=electronics&ie=UTF8&qid=1331497443&sr=1-1

At around £40, these are a great investment.  They are among the cheapest 'balanced armature' earphones I have come across but do give great sound after they have been 'played in' a bit.  Don't ask me about why this is necessary but the recommendation is to connect them to the 'white noise' of an FM radio between stations at a loud volume for several hours before use.  They are not bass-heavy and have those all important 'mids' that the classical listener craves.  Furthermore, they are loud even when driven by your mobile or MP3 player.  Increasing the volume towards the maximum will likely lead to some distortion or that niggling feeling that you might prefer a CD quality recording, however.  They're pretty robust and the double-twisted cable seems to prevent tangles and that annoying scraping sound generated when the cable flaps around.  There is a nice case for easy carriage, too (also good for stowing an engagement ring in...but that is another story).  I replaced the rubber in-ear attachments with foam ones that mould better to my ear canal, but that is a matter of individual anatomy.

So, while those chaps in the music magazines may direct you towards some rather expensive listening equipment that few can afford, why not give these a try.  Let me know what you think.  Furthermore, maybe you have your own suggestions as to the best earphones for classical listening.  I am all ears...