Arts, censorship and conducting in post-modern context

By Ranga Chandrarathne (Sunday Observer, May 23, 2010)

Orchestra of the Chamber Music Society
In a wide ranging interview veteran musician and conductor Lakshman Joseph de Saram expresses his views on Arts, Censorship and Conducting in post-modern context.
(The first part of the interviewed was published on May 2 issue of Montage)

Q: How far do you think a government should go in censoring the arts?

A: My emotional, unconditioned libertarian response is nowhere at all. But as we know, the subject is as thorny as it comes. You may have to get into the rationale of censorship first. The moral, the political, the religious. It comes in all forms; and it’s not always your conservative government. Didn’t Che Guevara, everyone’s favourite revolutionary, propose a ban on jazz and rock and roll? Rightist, leftist, middle-ground, they all have their reasons. The distinction between a government censor and a private one is not immediately obvious in the arts. The big religious institutions are famous for stepping up and protecting their faithful from the possible evils of artistic expression, and they too have their reasons. Plus many private artistic concerns receive governmental support through funding and other means: with such support often comes some degree of state supervision or control. It’s irritating, it’s as old as the hills, it is global and, realistically, it will be around forever; but you develop an awareness of the ever-changing ground-rules and learn to play the banned/censored game to your advantage. There are people in the film business who are masters at it! I suppose a well-thought-out template where children’s sensitivities for example are protected is important, no matter how blurred the line is between pornography and art. Beyond that, any sort of censorship of the arts for adults, barring the universally illegal stuff, brings into play ugly draconian elements. In a working democracy, no adult wants to be told what he or she can or can’t read, look at, or listen to. Lakshman Joseph de Saram

Q: Do you think a government should have a say in the quality and content of arts organizations?
A: Only if the arts organization in question has been given a government mandate to officially represent the country in their respective field, then, yes. The Ministry of Culture/National Arts Council could appoint an overseer on the organization’s board, just to make sure basic benchmarks are met, like on our national sports teams, or any state-endorsed body. If you carry the name of your country, you take on an enormous national responsibility, and therefore are wide open to public scrutiny, criticism and accountability.

Q: How about the film industry and government involvement?
A. It’s more cut and dried. We are talking more about content than management and distribution right? So, if the film in any way represents the country in an official capacity, and is a product of the government film unit, the government has a right to suggest ideas. That’s as far as they should go in the creative process of a nation’s film industry. On the end product, all governments use their censor boards to telling effect. The most recent headline grabbing banning was of the Japanese film Gurotesuku by the British Board of Film Classification, formally known as the British Board of Film Censors. The sale of the DVD even to forewarned adults is illegal in the UK. I’m sure, like all censor boards, they are a collection of rational and righteous public servants who have only the best interests of their citizens at heart. It’s a thankless job.

Q. Moving on to less controversial subjects, you have publicly stated that you have a disdain for conductors. If that is true, why?
A. Not true! In jest, I may have shared an anti-conductor joke or two with an audience at one of the Chamber Music Society’s (conductor-less) pre-concert talks. That’s about it; I have great admiration for conductors who are able to motivate musicians to reach heights that they did not think they were capable of. I have great respect for conductors whose vast knowledge of music, when combined with a certain intuition and depth, can illuminate stunning aspects of a score that you were not privy to before. These conductors are few and far between, but they make being in the game worthwhile. On the lower levels, it is more about basic people management, beating time and waking the triangle player after 200 bars of rest. Uninspiring stuff, for the musicians and even for the audience. Most of these conductors fail to even come close to the tipping point, because they have usually lost the interest of the musicians before the second rehearsal. It’s endemic.

Q. What are the principals of conducting, other than beating time and managing people?
A. Maestro Solti told us that true conductors are born, not made. Even assuming you are one of the natal elect; the guiding principals of top-flight conducting are still manifold. Romanian Conductor Sergiu Celibidache (1912-1996) Austrian Conductor Carlos Kleiber (1930-2004) Russian Conductor Yevgeny Mravinsky (1903-1988) German Conductor Wilhelm Furtwangler (1886-1954) First, it’s all about gaining the respect of the orchestra, from the Concertmaster to the non-union substitute gong player. You may want to start, at the very least, with a complete study of (Hermann) Scherchen’s Handbook of Conducting – because you can be sure most of your Principals will have. Then, there’s a litany of boxes to tick before you can stand before a group of musicians and tell them what to do: beat patterns, the ictus, internal and explicit subdivisions, composite rhythm, memorization of metronome speeds, modulation of tempo, strategies for the successful execution of complex passages and dense textures, balance, articulation, vocalization, intonation, transposition, structure/analysis of the score – these are a few of the basics. This is before you get into the intangible aspects of conducting: “knowing” the score, the aura and allure, the all-important empathy you have with the musicians to make the moment of re-creation meaningful – these indispensables you can’t teach. I remember conductors who after the first rehearsal would take the principal players out for coffee for a debate on the program. They would pitch their interpretation to us; ask us if what they wanted was achievable. Having all your players on the same page is vital.

Q: So, when we see a conductor on stage in front of a group of musicians in a concert, what is he actually doing?
A: What a conductor does in front of a group of musicians is direct them, primarily. Start them, stop them, cue them, make them go faster, slower, softer, louder. But the real value we feel in having a conductor is at the rehearsal phase. It’s all about time management and direction. He maps out the scores in his studio and comes to the rehearsal with a blueprint that he is confident will work. It’s his interpretation, and why is this important? Because all of us in the orchestra have blueprints and interpretations that we think are workable. So in essence, what you are doing is appointing one massive ego to contain the chaos of a 100 regular egos. It’s like the military, where you have a supreme commander planning a battle, who in turn gives the soldiers a set of orders with predetermined objectives; or the head of a team of surgeons planning a Whipple procedure or something. One guy maps out the waypoints and makes the make or break decisions; and in an orchestra, the conductor is that person. He takes the ultimate responsibility. We give him the glory if his plan works, and it’s the proverbial firing squad if it does not. Pretty simple.

Q: If a conductor’s work is mostly needed at the rehearsal phase, is his presence at the concert dispensable?
A: Moot point. Technically, all the top orchestras in the world can perform the most demanding symphonies of Mahler, Bruckner, Shostakovich on auto-pilot; but that would be boring and unfair. After all the diligent effort the conductor has put into the planning and development of a work, he has to be given the controls when it’s time to execute it under the lights. And who knows? He could be inspired mid-flight to do something spontaneous. These concerts are exhilarating.

Q: The Chamber Music Society’s orchestra does not have a conductor, why?

A: We are around 31 musicians, and employ a collaborative leadership approach, loosely modelled on the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra. It’s an entirely different dynamic from the traditional method, but it works beautifully for us. We have not ruled out having a conductor; we will if and when it’s appropriate.

Q: How about the managing of egos you spoke about before? Is it chaos at the Chamber Music Society rehearsals?
A: Funny! No, no chaos. As the Artistic Director, I do pull rank sometimes – but delicately! Q: Who are some of the conductors, in your opinion, that have made an impact? A: My personal list of conductors of the past, in no particular order, would include; (Sergiu) Celibidache, (Wilhelm) Furtwangler, Carlos Kleiber, (Yevgeny) Mravinsky, (Hermann) Scherchen, (Carl) Schuricht, (Georg) Solti, (Klaus) Tennstedt – give me more time, I am sure I could come up with other names. But these maestros have truly made an impact on how I listen to music specifically.

Q: How about present-day conductors?
A: I think it is a little unfair to measure or grade present-day conductors. For one thing, I personally know a few of them, so it’s embarrassing. Also most of them are still in the process of building their “legacies”. But you can be assured, all of them have put in a ton of hard work to get where they are now, know the nuts and bolts of the game like the back of their hand, live music night and day, and have a natural gift on top of it all. The path to the conductor’s podium is complex and merciless, and is littered with broken egos and splintered batons. That seems to be the only way, the baptism of fire. Otherwise, we would all be conducting!

June 17th, 2010 | Reviews and Media | No comments

Shedding light on post-modern motifs in Sri Lankan music scene  

 by Ranga CHANDRARATHNE (Sunday Observer, May 2, 2010)

Post- modern music signifies both musical style and musical condition. As a musical style, post-modern music contains characteristic of post-modern art deriving musical motifs across the spectrum of traditions and genres. It tends to blur the traditional boundaries of “high art” and “Kitsch”. As a condition, post-modern music, in simple terms, is a state of music after modernity. It has no particular defining feature but often considered as mode of expression, meant for mass consumption and also indicator of group identity or an identity of a sub-culture.

What follows are the excerpts of an exclusive interview with Lakshman Joseph de Saram, the film composer and Artistic Director of the Chamber Music Society of Colombo, who responded to questions on music, post-modernism and the National Performing Arts Theatre.

Q: There has been discussion recently in the Sinhalese and English intellectual circuits about the post-modernistic influence in our fine arts, and in film music your scores have been cited as a clear example of that influence. Do you agree?

A: What is post-modern music to us anyway? Is it anti-elite, anti-formal, blurring the lines between “high” and “low” music? If that’s what it is, maybe, the stuff I have written to date can carry that label. I don’t get too carried away with labels though.

Q: Is your music anti-elite?

A: What I meant by post-modernism having anti-elitist proclivities was about it going bang against modernism and its exacting academic structures. The whole 2nd Viennese School ending with (Eliot) Carter perhaps. I suppose anyone who writes music these days that incorporates multiple traditions and cultures and injects some form of populist values will be labelled a post-modernist.

Q: You said blurring the lines between “high” and “low” music, is that not in itself an elitist viewpoint?

A: Let’s get off the word “elitist,” my mistake – but in essence, is not post modernism just about that? The blurring of styles? Take Charles Ives’s “Central Park in the Dark,” he embeds in the score bits of ragtime, jazz and even a (John Phillip) Sousa march. Outrageous stuff for early 20th-century serious writing, and this brings the other important aspect of post-modernism: irony. There is a lot of tongue in cheek.

Q: Would you describe your music as ironic?

A: At the risk of sounding facetious, no matter where I go, I feel tethered to this pile of unrepentant irony, I can’t attribute it to anything specific, but I deal with it. Coming back to the music, there are tons of cheeky musical reference points and less obvious tributes, so to speak, to my many collisions with people and incidents, music being the common denominator in all of them. This is possible because I have constantly engaged a mild contempt for the habitually unproven values of let’s say the structural unity and sanctity of “form” and “tradition”. I am blithely able to juxtapose a Kotahena funeral band blowing their guts out, completely drunk, with the sound of a Grancino cello because of this, however ridiculous it may sound.

Q: So, are you out to ridicule?

A: Well, that’s never the intention, however, the music mostly is a response to the visual or, at times, the unseen. So, if I feel the scene requires an ironic or ridiculous sound, to prevent it from looking overly earnest, I’ll write it. There have been several instances. “Mille Soya” and “Machan” have plenty of examples.

Q: In your opinion, who are the most important composers in the post- modernistic era?

A: In Sri Lanka, it would be Premasiri Khemadasa, who began as a traditionalist, went through his Stravinsky/Janacek modernistic phase and ended up a neoconservative post-modernist, beating the label bandwagon to death! His “Beyond Horizons,” the last serious piece he wrote while living in Prague, is a sterling example of his returning to the principles of tradition, where he takes great pains in exorcising his music of “style,” “irony” and “shock.” Re-fitting it with a moral philosophy based on his personal idea of secular humanism with tangible elements of his own brand of spirituality. But he was still post-modern, because his fundamental was the blurring of multiple cultural identities. That’s primarily why he rejected the term “Mystic minimalist.”

Other important post-modernists are John Adams; Grecki, Steve Reich, Luciano Berio, Steve Martland, Terry Riley. you can go on. What’s also interesting is the other side of the street: the adaptation or reworking of Western classical norms by the populists, Bjrk, the Wu Tang Clan, Piazzolla, the Modern Jazz Quartet the effect is like having your favourite comic book character suddenly slipping into Chaucerian English. Nothing wrong with that.

Q: Do you think that post-modernism is unavoidable in the context of present day Sri Lankan culture?

A: Not at all, but I can only talk about what I am involved in. Let’s take our film industry: it would be difficult to pinpoint full-blown post-modernism in it. We are still very much based in solid narrative structure and characterization; conventional elements still play a big part in suspending the audience’s disbelief. The directors I work with, Prasanna (Vithanage), Boodee (Keerthisena) and Vimukthi (Jayasundara) have experimented successfully with nonlinear storytelling with the use of episodic and circular narratives, but if you ask them, I doubt they’ll see any “Pulp Fiction” – like ode to post-modernism in any of their work. The influence of Parajanov, Robert Bresson, Tarkovsky, Lynch (without the irony), weigh heavy on our top auteurs, plus they are way too serious to be touched by post-modernism. They leave that to the guy who does the score! I know I am going to get called on this.

Q: How about our literature?

A: I don’t read.

Q: Really? Even the scripts of the films you score?

A: I have them read to me, the interesting bits! Really, I am not an avid reader; and I have stopped reading for fun or inspiration. The reasons are complex. Currently, if you must know, I am on two books, re-reading Tartakower’s hyper-modern chess, only because I need to maintain an edge over my 12-year-old daughter. The other, is a mind bending scholarly piece written by a friend of mine on the 4th movement fragment of Bruckner’s 9th. It’s an obligation, and it might as well be in Braille. Not fun.

Q: Bruckner is a composer that you have brought up frequently in previous interviews, why?

A: Well. This is personal, but musically to me, at this point in my life, a late Bruckner symphony represents the culmination of everything I think music can be. A Celibidache or Furtwangler performance of, let’s say the 8th; have done things to me that no other music has been able to. The unnerving contradictory combination of deeply felt spiritualism, hidden in a possible web of mystic code, with the almost demonically inspired apocalyptic eruptions, are some of the obvious elements that make Bruckner’s music overwhelming. To me, the coda of the 8th symphony’s finale is like this metaphorical altar, and in the right hands, at the right moment, it almost demands from the listener some sort of subconscious genuflection. It is a hugely cathartic experience, and I am not alone in saying this. The journey has not been easy though, starting from an early 80’s performance of the 4th conducted by my brother at Carnegie Hall; it took me decades to actually begin to like the music. Celibidache, probably the greatest Brucknerian in our lifetime, to make matters worse, confounding us eager students further, said that you had to approach the score with an alchemist’s intuition. I am no closer to figuring that one out, twenty-odd years in.

 Q: Will we hear the Chamber Music Society perform Bruckner in the near future?

A: We could do his string quintet in F, but we need to find a proper context. I would be very interested in the Chamber Music Society programming a concert, where we present the Bruckner 3rd symphony transcription for two pianos by Gustav Mahler, no less. 2010-2011 being the Mahler centenary, I think it makes a lot of sense. I know the Mahler Gesellschaft in Vienna will be interested in supporting it. Performing the symphonies of both Bruckner and Mahler is beyond us: the resources, and basic entry-point depth of intellect required, are gargantuan. You need a Merlin on the podium who can guide you through those mine-infested labyrinthine scores. Think on the lines of constructing the vast Parakrama Samudra with a couple of pickaxes and a goat. You’ll end up hurting yourself.. It’s futile.

 Q: With the imminent arrival of the gleaming National Performing Arts Theatre, the first ever purpose-built stage for acoustic music, how do you think we should set about using it?

A: Massive question. In my department at the University of Visual and Performing Arts, we will submit a policy paper on how we think we can help define this magnificent building with distinctly Sri Lankan cultural and artistic values, positioning it in a way where it will have the potential for global appeal. That will be our primary objective. Important secondary objectives should be any cultural endeavour that is able to pass a basic benchmark of professionalism. Mediocrity, amateurism, cheesy middlebrow variety “shows” should be encouraged to perform elsewhere. Young Sri Lankans should know that they have to aspire and excel to perform on the main stage.

It should be known to all as the pinnacle of performing excellence, where you are sure the standards and content will always be high. Where you won’t have the elite drummers and musicians of the Temple of the Tooth perform one day, and a school stage its earnest drama the next. The two cannot ever share the same platform. Unacceptable. Don’t get me wrong; I’m all for kids and well-meaning dilettantes expressing their angst and having fun on stage, but this is the National Theatre. It does not happen at the Musikverein in Vienna, and it does not happen at the Esplanade in Singapore. Why should it happen here? The National Theatre should not be prostituted for money. For too long, we have tolerated mediocrity and indiscipline in the arts, we have blurred the distinction between passionate superficiality and basic competency making it difficult for our young performers to know where they actually stand on the global stage. It is up to the professional performers, the Ministry of Culture, National Heritage, to change this.

But you and I know, cynics at heart, that this discernment in content we talk about as a starting point for the resurgence of the performing arts in Sri Lanka is just wishful thinking. I can just see a person walk in with a grin and a five-lakh cheque to claim the main stage, believing for a moment that he is contributing to the ethos of a 2500-year-old civilization by presenting some corny drivel that would make people cringe.

I’m not being subjective here: what we are dealing with is bad art, using any yardstick. We have to look into ways of making the Theatre financially viable without undermining its cultural credibility. It’s up-stream in a river of crap for the classical arts I tell you, and here I am making waves!

But we are not giving up, just starting really. We look at Sri Lankan cricket as an inspiration, where it was pre ‘96, and where it is today. There are many more Lasith Malingas out there, and I don’t just mean in our cricketing world. We have a treasure trove of un-tapped young talent spread out across our country, seeking and nurturing them is paramount.

Having digressed, another important angle and one of my personal btes noires, is the subtle art of marketing culture. The people responsible for selling the arts in this town should maybe take a look at national performing arts complexes around the world, and know that there are certain ground rules in play. Let’s start with the basics here. Strategies that work on a rugby field probably don’t necessarily work in a concert hall. A typical member of an audience for a chamber music concert, is not going to be dazzled by some cheesy ad-campaign plastered and draped all over the auditorium. Discretion and subtlety is what works with that audience.

Now this should not be too difficult to figure out, but we see it happening too often. The same gaudy banners touting deals and discounts at a ‘big’ match are displayed at a concert featuring a requiem for the Buddha. The absence of fundamental refinement, style and sensitivity when it comes to supporting “high culture” is galling. All is not lost though; there are a few behemoth companies and formidable patrons in our midst that understand. Hopefully, they will form the all-important financial vanguard to Sri Lanka’s modern renaissance in the arts.

Q: Do you think your opinionated stance could unfairly alienate some people?

A: You see, Ranga, this is what I am talking about. You are chastised for speaking out against the whole “mediocrity rules” state of affairs. You become unpopular for not toeing the art-as-entertainment/money-making line. I couldn’t care less. The enormous disparity between “light” and “serious”, “amateur” and “professional” is mostly felt in the Western cultural orbit, we are morally obliged to do something about that. Our esteemed colleagues in the Sinhalese and Tamil cultural spheres are way better organised, and the equilibrium between the “corny” and the “sophisticated” is much more defined and regulated.

Ultimately, all great cities are measured by their cultural pedigree, the museums, the concert halls, the libraries, the architecture, the content and possibly the cuisine. In our specialized niche, we will work towards bringing a balance to the Western cultural calendar. Where eventually, for every “musical” staged, you will have for instance, the counter balance of the State opera. For every theatrical farce, you will have a cerebral alternative. For every “variety show,” you will have the antidote of a classical music concert, and hopefully, you will not have to debase these serious productions by having to throw in dinner or short-eats as an incentive for people to attend.

So how are we going to do this? We have to think long-term, high-test performance skills along with audience education to begin with. I belong to a small but potent group of zealous cultural crusaders – you too – whose mandate is unadulterated and focused. To launch this change, top-most on our agenda is to re-connect, in spirit at least, with our glorious past and, more tangibly, to use that consciousness as the bedrock to build on, to further set the stage, to set new artistic benchmarks for our future generations to exceed. The Government has given us, with the help of the Chinese, a tremendous platform, an instant icon; it is up to us to help define it.

June 17th, 2010 | Reviews and Media | No comments

Woes of the world fell away as the music began

Review of the Chamber Music Society of Sri Lanka performance on February 26 
By Niloufer Pieris (Sunday Times, April 4, 2010)

The world situation is alarming. Earthquakes, floods, drought, climate change and the threat of nuclear war…the list is endless and depressing. ‘Troubled Seas and Forest Paths’ a concert by the Chamber Music Society of Colombo (CMSC) was refreshing, stimulating and exhilarating. I came away feeling all the woes of the world had fallen away. Life without music would be a mistake could certainly describe the concert. Mozart, Paul Hindesmith (nine short pieces), Vivaldi for 2 violins, cello and ensemble were quite delightful and beautifully played. However central to the programme was the song cycle ‘Forest Paths’ specially composed for CMSC with Mary Anne David as soloist. The four songs were impeccably sung by Ms. David who looked and sounded gorgeous. Truly a diva. The contrasts of the songs, particularly the dark tones of winter demonstrated her sensitivity. The breath control in the last song echoed in the spellbound audience and earned singer, composer and ensemble a standing ovation. Composer Steven Allen from the US has lived in Sri Lanka for the past five years. His programme note was touching. He pays a tribute to the country which he has made his home and we are indeed honoured that he lives here. The magic continued on March 13 when the CMSC held its ‘Great Artist’ series introducing French pianist Jean Bernard Pommier. Sonatas by Mozart, Appassionata (Beethoven) were accompanied by an equally dramatic thunderstorm. Sonata in B Minor (Liszt) struck a very personal note. This opulent music was choreographed as a vehicle for Dame Margot Fonteyn and Rudolf Nureyev ‘Marguerite and Armand’ based on the book ‘La Dame aux Camellias’ (Dumas). It was an evening of excellent music. Sri Lanka is considered a developing country but we have in our midst remarkable artists who somehow keep the arts alive. No easy task. Lakshman Joseph de Saram and the dedicated Ensemble deserve our appreciation and support for giving us such memorable occasions.

June 17th, 2010 | Reviews and Media | No comments

From Mendelssohn minor to Ursa Major
By A.S.H. Smyth (Sunday Times, 06 December 2009)
In celebration of several nice-round-number anniversaries and backed by the sponsorship of the German Embassy, the Chamber Music Society of Colombo, under the direction of Lakshman Joseph de Saram, brought its 2009 season to a close with an evening of musical champagne (or whatever the EUSSR makes them call the bubbly in Berlin).

After a riskily majestic ‘Andante maestoso’ preamble, Haydn’s ‘Overture’ to the seragliopera L’incontro improvviso burst loose in the ‘Presto’ (cue little faux-Oriental percussion touches) in a tangible explosion of pent-up energy. The urgent drive towards the cadences was gripping, and the repetitive sections – for such there will always be in Haydn – persistently, insistently fresh.

There was at once a fuller, darker texture to Mendelssohn’s early String Symphony No.3 in E minor (i.e. the cellos actually had a musical line, not just a series of bass notes): if you weren’t already sitting comfortably then this definitely wasn’t your chance. The ten-minute melodic and harmonic work-out had fire not just in its belly, but in its maw as well. The ‘Andante’ second movement was more gentle, a classical Classical theme more vapour trails than entrails. But the closing ‘Allegro’ turned the entrails into extrails, as fingers trilled vigorously and bows jagged across the strings. What with the tutti chordal steps and the embellished counterpoint, it seemed altogether more like a Händel overture…

This was a string-dominated programme, and, to my shame, somewhere amid the excerpts from Händel’s Hercules, I fleetingly wondered if five cellos (and two basses) was/were too many. But Händel bass-lines are where half the fun is at, and it was appropriately Herculean to see seven violinists obliged to do the work of 20 (Hercules may have done all his chores on time, but that doesn’t make him some flute-playing mummy’s boy).

The dainty concertante moments in the ‘Menuetto’ – on cello, violin, viola, flute and oboe – offered a brief variation of palette, before all hell broke loose in the hair-raising ‘Sinfonia’. With its mournful theme strained and splayed almost to breaking point and interspersed with outbursts of frantic rage (courtesy Mrs Hercules), the CMSC’s performance was a masterwork of coordination and inherent musicianship.
Nobody was going to sneak out during this interval. Always leave them wanting more, they say…

And then give them some, say I. The opening chords of the ‘Overture’ to Agrippina were so violent they actually elicited an echo from the Wendt (perhaps surprisingly, the venue really seemed to embrace the sound: it was like a proper C.18th salon gig, but with air-con!). The orchestra, wreaking the kind of emotional havoc that befits Händel’s heroine – sister of Caligula, niece (and wife) of Claudius, mother of Nero – stormed from one extreme to the other, and by the time they reached the oboist’s plaintive Orphean line, the audience was pin-drop silent, my heart was thumping and the violinists were blinking sweat out of their eyes. De Saram mopped his brow amid profound applause.

The nicknames of Haydn symphonies (the ‘Drum Roll’, most famously) are usually pretty tenuous, and often have no recorded authorial veracity, so during Haydn’s Symphony No.82 in C Major (‘L’ours’ or ‘The Bear’) I amused myself considering potential origins for the movements and thinking up headline-friendly puns (though I could bearly come up with any, which gave me paws: I didn’t want to panda to anyone, or end up making a complete urse of myself).

‘The Bear’ itself, though, was suitably boisterous. The ‘Menuet’ gave the impression that he was touring with a miserable provincial circus (the fault is Haydn’s; but did you know they train them to ‘dance’ by setting the cubs on hot coals?); the weighty bass uprisings depicted him, I hoped, sundering his chains and eating the circus master; and in the vivace ‘Finale’ – a summery peasant dance with a Slavic drone and cartoonish cameos from the village band – the horsehair flew (bear fur is illegal) – and what remained attached to the bow waged merry war against the stomach of the cat and the thunder of the cowskin.

I can recall one instance when the cellos rushed slightly, a couple of rudderless moments when the second violins and violas were left to their own, and by the ‘Finale’ the bassoon was sadly out of tune (giving our poor bear chronic indigestion). But, in vindication of the CMSC’s conductor-less policy, there was never a hint of hesitation, and the tenutos and other refined musical ephemera were symptomatic not only of the highest quality leadership – and followership, come to that – but of a rare level of discipline and cohesion.

Demonstration of brilliance in chamber music

 by Ranga CHANDRARATHNE (Sunday Observer, 06 December 2009)

The ensemble of the Chamber Music Society of Colombo, in a performance exclusively sponsored by the German Embassy, presented the Bicentennial Concert 2009. This time, the warm and clear acoustic of the Lionel Wendt Theatre was the chosen venue. The concert was the Society’s second 200/250-year birth and death commemoration of the three great German-speaking composers, namely, Georg Fredrick Handel, Franz Joseph Haydn and Felix Mendelssohn.

It was nothing short of an outstanding success for all involved. The ensemble, led by its passionate artistic Director/Concertmaster, Lakshman Joseph de Saram, began the concert with a controlled bang, the first chord to G. F. Haydn’s overture to his opera ‘incontro improvviso’. The French-style Adagio-meastoso that followed set the stage perfectly. Then quite surprisingly, Haydn launched into a Presto, a wild sounding ‘Turkish’ street band with clanging cymbals and loud drums, very much in the manner of Mozart’s ‘Abduction of the Seraglio’ overture. A charming slow movement with solo violoncello followed before the briefest reprise of the Presto. The playing was mostly committed with few mishaps in intonation in all departments. The overture is scored for pairs of oboe, horns, trumpets, timpani and cymbals, with the usual compliment of strings.

The Society’s Mendelssohn offering was his third string symphony in e minor. A repeat performance from their sold out Goethe Institute ‘Tribute to the Masters’ concert earlier in the year. Joseph de Saram’s artistic direction gave Mendelssohn’s youthfully naive work a very sumptuous and sophisticated air.

Although carefully primed and admirably played, it was interesting to note how the true and less forgiving acoustic of the Lionel Wendt highlighted in the most irritating way, the discrepancies in intonation in the ensemble, discrepancies that were certainly not this apparent in the much smaller but richly reverberant hall of the Goethe Institute.

The first seven of the set of 12 symphonies were all composed in Hamburg in 1821. It is hard to imagine that Mendelssohn was only 12 years old at the time of their composition.

Handel’s incidental music to his music drama ‘Hercules’ was next on the program. The work was composed in 1744 to a libretto by the Rev. Thomas Broughton after Sophocles and Ovid, and premiered at the King’s Theatre in London in 1745. Outstanding and revelatory was the ‘Sinfonia’ to Act III. To quote from the well-written program notes, the music was ‘brooding with outrageous bursts of agitated hysterics’, Joseph de Saram’s condescending musical arrogance at times leads him to a tendency to over interpret, but in this instance, he was inspired, a most illuminating outing where Handel and the audience were the ultimate beneficiaries.

Bookending the intermission, Handel’s overture to his opera ‘Agrippina’ began the second half. Truly visceral playing, breathtaking speed and shocking pauses with slashing strings and melancholic oboe portrayed a vivid Roman empire full of bloodletting, lust and remorse. It was indeed an eye-opener on how potent and electrifying an orchestral string section can actually sound when given the green light and right direction.

The concertmaster’s playing stood out with its searing white heat intensity, it was clear that he was undeniably ‘moved and involved’, both physically and psychologically by the unfolding story line and creative process.

The likes we have not witnessed in the local eastern and western classical music world, which almost always goes to great lengths to be modest and pleasantly sedated, no matter what the musical context is. On the other hand, this performance was a blowtorch to the senses.

We can only imagine with wonder, what the total effect could have been if more of the players contributed as much effort to the score. Closing out the concert was Hayden’s great Symphony number 82 in C major, nicknamed the ‘Bear’. It is scored for flute, pairs of oboes, bassoons, horns, trumpets, timpani, and strings. Overall, although very dynamic, we thought the symphony’s forward momentum to be too relentless, no respite even in the more relaxed ‘middle’ movements. The charms of Beecham’s legendary Haydn recordings were obviously not on the artistic directors mind when he approached this symphony this time. The Andante was neatly played, but at a tempo that was much faster and driven than anyone is typically used to. Even faster that the most ‘authentic’ of period performances.

Strings dominated the balance throughout. It was a pity that the brass and woodwind were overly cautious. We would have preferred a brighter more present sound from them. Also, as noted in previous reviews of the ensemble, the double bass section was much more visible than audible. On the plus side, there were bold and defined rolls and strokes from the timpanist in the last movement’s roaring climaxes. A richly deserved encore was called for, and the ensemble repeated the last page of the symphony. A gimmicky but very exciting dramatic ‘pause’ between the last two chords, presumably to show off the obvious discipline and whiplash precision of the ensemble, left the audience laughing and exhilarated. An un-common standing ovation followed from the sold out auditorium.

As expected, the Chamber Music Society of Colombo, with its well defined long range plans and professional international management team and advisors, appears to be gradually formulating a pragmatic strategy, that will eventually lead to the direction that western classical and new ‘serious’ music will take, in the next stage of development in the arts of a unified Sri Lanka. The Society’s professional attitude, progressive agenda and well-buffed end product can only help in improving the overall standards.

Although the Society is primarily aimed at the upper echelon of the intelligentsia, and chamber music, both old and new, by its very nature, the guarded realm of a privileged minority, we are pleased to notice the Society taking a more egalitarian approach in its door policy and availability of tickets. And as the German ambassador stated in his opening remarks before the concert, we are all very happy at the thought that the Society is planning on sharing their art in the very near future with our brothers and sisters in the north and east. A gesture, which will be greatly appreciated in this hour of reconciliation and sensitiveness.

December 7th, 2009 | Reviews and Media | No comments

Excerpts

RC: I am talking to Lakshman Joseph de Saram, a professional musician who is enjoying a growing reputation in the south Asian film industry as an award winning composer, and more recently, as the Artistic director and Concertmaster of one of Sri Lanka’s most dynamic state backed specialized arts organizations. I would first like to ask you on your association with the Chamber Music Society of Colombo.

It has been about a year and a half since the CMSC made its official debut at Temple Trees for President Mahinda Rajapaksa, where does the Society stand today?

LJDS: First, we have to thank the late Maestro Premasiri Khemadasa for making that auspicious debut possible. Around the world, it is an undeniable honour and privilege to perform for the leader of your country, and we are grateful to have had that opportunity. Dr. Khemadasa was one of our most ardent supporters, and drove me hard to get the Society off the ground. He was totally committed to bringing about a sense of professionalism, accountability and credibility into serious music in our country.

How are we doing now? The Society is developing in an organic manner, very much like we planned. We have achieved our set financial targets for our initial stage comfortably, thanks to our generous endowment benefactors and concert sponsors. The next stage is core-capital funding, and we have a formidable board looking after that. Our all-important artistic product is undergoing constant evaluation and work. Encouragingly, from our merciless in-house critics, to the press and the audience, they have all acknowledged, at the very least, the winning combination of scholarship and joie de vivre that make our performances distinct. It is a wonderful base on which to grow.

RC: When you say your concerts have scholarship and joie de vivre, what do you mean by that?

LJDS: Well, what I mean is that those two components are vital for lift-off, for any performance really. The music is well researched beforehand, naturally. The choice of repertoire, we make sure we have the resources to execute the basic requirements of the composer. Such as instrument configuration and depth, then we take it a step further and look at player experience and the composition of a section, such as the leadership qualities, intuitive musical sense and the tonal palette of a front desk artist. These are critical elements, and I have been taught to be the bedrock of any professional ensemble. Once you have a reasonably tight team in place, you are now in a position to make a credible attempt at a great work of art.

As Artistic Director, I am largely responsible for the over-all slant the Society takes season to season, such as programming and personnel, and as concertmaster, you have control more often that not, on the real-time details of a performance in motion, the accelerator, hand break, hot, cold and eject buttons, so to speak. What that amounts to, is whoever sits in the concertmasters chair, has an amazing array of responsibilities and options to control the “flow” of a performance, much more-so in an orchestra sans conductor, which we are. When the ensemble is a good one, and the concertmaster has a ‘plan,’ and has valuable input and the indispensable support from his principals, if he can then convince and get the tacit approval of his fellow musicians that the plan could work, if the whole things clicks, the results are usually very gratifying.

I am privileged to be working with a wonderful core group of musicians. It is very difficult to perform the music we do without a conductor. It is commonly said that a chamber orchestra is like the commando unit of your military, only the highly skilled and motivated can cope. In a sticky situation, when it comes to the fight-or-flight response, I can always bet on the former with this group. In the midst of a raging fugue hurtling down at a dangerous tempo, we only have each other to fall back on. No central figure holding on to the reigns here.

RC: It has been remarked, and we have witnessed it for ourselves, that the CMSC concerts do possess an intensity that is not usually experienced in our concert halls. How is this done?

LJDS: I can only speak for myself; it takes a long checklist of line items to make a performance of ours get off the ground. I would like you to ask the other members of the orchestra for their angles too, for more of a total picture of what makes our concerts ignite. It is the mysterious synergies of many that make it happen. But for myself, each time I am on stage, I feel a deep sense of responsibility to project the art of sound with everything I have got. It is a composite of my entire life distilled in that moment, from the first ever music I heard, to analyzing Stephen Allen’s newest work a few days ago. And all the decades’ in-between of intense training I have had with the best there is. Throw into that mix all of life’s losses, gains, bitter and sweet experiences, that is possibly the edge you hear when I am in play. I view the world largely through a series of cadences, and at this point, it is the only metaphysical aspect of my life that I am somewhat convinced about.

Of course, on a more terrestrial level, we enjoy the generosity of our altruistic benefactors, sponsors and patrons. They are singularly important for any form of art to prosper. High culture regrettably does not come cheap. We also have in place a super efficient front and back office, great support from our friends, who happen to be some of the best minds in the media arts industry around us, unstinting help from my colleagues plying the boards in the great citadels of art and culture. And to cap it, we employ a constantly running self-check mechanism based on realism and applicable international benchmarks, which hopefully prevents us from making that deal-breaking faux pas. This is all calibrated to make your concert experience a worthy one. Standard stuff really.

RC: There have been instances where sections of the media have labelled the CMSC’s concerts as very un-accessible to the general public, both in terms of availability of tickets and programming. Is there any truth to this, and if so, is it deliberate and justified?

LJDS: This all came about after I said something not so flattering at a public forum about the state of the arts today in our country. It was a general comment that was taken out of context and twisted to look like the CMSC was an Illuminati like cabal catering to a patrician clique. Far from it. But I understand how we could come across as inaccessible. We do not advertise or place posters all over the city; so right off the bat, you have been labelled an elitist. But, we are not selling soap or something, we are so fortunate not to have to advertise aggressively, it would go against the grain of what we are all about, because the quality of our end product and the basis for our existence is not based on the bottom line of how many tickets we sell or how much money we make. We are a non-profit organization with very clear objectives, supported by patrons of the arts and like-minded corporations and embassies. Our limited tickets are sold out virtually by word of mouth. We have a growing database of people we have identified who understand and may find value in what we do. So just because you don’t know about our concerts does not mean we are deliberately seeking to filter the audience. Awareness campaigns and expanding the audience base will happen when the need arises, the plans have only to be put in play.

On our programming being inaccessible, well, we are a chamber music society, and are somewhat restricted by that title. Our mandate, like I have said before, is to promote and protect music that has been globally acknowledged to have substantial properties of value, integrity, style and intellectual intensity in them. Music that will continue to be valid long after we are gone. It would be self-defeating on our part to throw some ‘accessible’ tunes in our programs hoping it would attract more attention and possibly sell more tickets. I think it is as ridiculous a notion, to expect the Sri Lankan XI to play a round of gudu on the rest day of a test with the thinking that that would broad base the game of cricket. Casting no aspersions on the game of gudu of course. Classical musicians are the curators of an archaic art form. Entering the ethos of a nation’s cultural soul is something you have to aspire to, it is hard-core, and it will never come to you. We are not interested in the immortalization of standardised entertainment or pandering to anyone’s base instincts. There are enough good people doing that. And if it helps, we do not mind being exhibit-A in the defense’s case against the dumbing down of great art.

RC: What are the concerts planned for the 2009/2010 season?

LJDS: Coming up are the commemoration concerts and workshops for some heavy weight composers from Europe. Purcell, Handel, Haydn and Mendelssohn. We will also be visiting the music of Villa-Lobos, Brazil’s greatest composer; it’s his 50th death anniversary this year. The concerts will be presented along with the Goethe Institute and the German Embassy in Colombo.

RC: According to the press kit of the Society, the performing ensemble is just one of the Societies mandates, can you talk about the others?

LJDS: Yes, at the risk of sounding grandiose, the CMSC is an arts organization set up with the ideals to advance and nurture the creation, dissemination, understanding and love of high culture. I have the zealousness of a young extremist, when it comes to the belief I hold of music possessing the power to act as catalyst. I can go on and on this, but what is happening in China and Venezuela with western classical music should give us inspiration. With our limited funds right now, the Society is embarking on instrument loaning, free music education, subsidised music equipment, music festivals etc. Our 5/10-year plan includes much bigger projects benefitting way more people.

RC: You have been given the responsibility of creating a chamber/orchestral music program at the University of the Visual and Performing Arts, what do your plans entail?

LJDS: This is hugely exciting for me. These are intelligent young Sri Lankans from all walks of life who have decided early on in their lives to dedicate themselves to enriching the society they live in through music, and in particular, western music. Some of them already possess solid technique, and with proper handling, will be valuable contributors to any classical ensemble on graduation. One of our mid to long-term goals is to work towards this program fuelling a future state ensemble. We are grateful to have tremendous support from the very highest office to the Embassy/NGO level to make it happen.

RC: What are your thoughts on a possible successor to the late Dr. Premasiri Khemadasa’s formidable musical legacy?

LJDS: There is no one, and I don’t think anyone who has an ounce of credibility and individuality would want to be the one. Maestro Khemadasa was a one-off, volcanic moment of greatness in Sri Lanka’s musical history. And it would be foolish to think that you could succeed professionally in creating the way he did. He was absolutely unique, and fundamentally important, especially to the film composer fraternity of this country, who ply the road he hacked alone for most of his life.

RC: In your estimation, what is the most valuable work Master Khemadasa left us?

LJDS: Without hesitation, Pirinivan Mangalya (A Requiem for the Buddha). It truly has the potential of transcendentality. It has been internationally recognized as a seminal work in our country’s cultural pantheon. And on a personal note, I am doubly grateful to have been the concertmaster of its world premiere many years ago, and to have worked closely with the maestro on certain details of the score along with my brother Rohan, who actually commissioned the work for the Sri Lanka Philharmonic Orchestra.

RC: Let us now talk about your relationship with film as a composer; you have been credited in the local and international media with having contributed to the evolution of the music of South Asian cinema. Was it necessary?

LJDS: If evolved means changed, yes, it is necessary. Organic change is inevitable. We are all evolving in some way, some embrace it, and some deny it. And this guild, so to speak, that I belong to, is made up of directors and musicians who are not afraid of change. People who don’t take refuge in the past, who don’t tell me, hey, can you do what Master Khemadasa did for Nidhanaya, or can you approximate that Karaindrou score, or how about a song like A Change Is Gonna Come. Ironic but tedious. The people I work with are visionaries who have a strong sense of individuality and purpose. And we share a deep interest in the direction that South Asian cinema takes. We are reminded always, that we are part custodians of a facet of global cinema, and have the responsibility to make sure that the art form is not completely overwhelmed by the facile and mediocre.

RC: Are you saying that most films from South Asia are facile and mediocre?

LJDS: I should never have said that! Most films made in the world are facile and mediocre, you know what I mean; it’s like letting the individually wrapped slice of processed cheese take over, with no room left for the Brie de Meaux. The ‘auteurs’ of this world are few and far between, and have to be made more visible.

RC: What is your creative process when it comes to composing the original score?

LJDS: Complicated question, I suppose like most film composers, you begin with a discussion on the premise with the director. If you feel like it is something you understand and can come to terms with intellectually and ethically, and are mostly on the same page, you proceed to the next step, which is the script. I personally get very little out of the script, so I wait for headshots of the principals and location stills etc. I am now seeing colour, moods, which I am able to vaguely decode into some sort of sound clusters. When the first edit is in, the general character, feel and pace of the film starts percolating through various aural templates in my mind, I tool around endlessly looking for that door to open. It could take anywhere from months to a couple of days. And when the final cut is dumped into my timeline, that is when I start to panic! It’s all a blur after that.

RC: What makes you tic as a person?

LJDS: A billion things and nothing. But really, thinking about it, my family rates right up there for the most compelling reason I have to live in this otherwise aching fragment of our so-called eternal voyage. There is nothing of significance I do that is not in someway, inspired by their presence. My wife, I have known her for over half of my life, is more important to me than I could possibly express. Our children, what can I say…. and my mother. These are the all-pervading non-negotiable tangibles. What also makes me tic is maybe sipping a damn fine Armagnac, food, discovering great new music and film, chess, conversation with friends late into the night, coffee. These things make me happy.

http://www.sundayobserver.lk/2009/08/23/mon01.asp

September 2nd, 2009 | Reviews and Media | No comments

July 20th, 2009 | Reviews and Media | No comments

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July 20th, 2009 | Reviews and Media | No comments

Malcolm v. Stülpnagel, Galle.

On Saturday the 31st January, the Chamber Music Society of Colombo performed at the historic 18th century Dutch Reformed Church in the Galle Fort. Presented by the Galle Literary Festival and sponsored by the Royal Netherlands Embassy, the elite ensemble, directed by Lakshman Joseph de Saram, made a tremendous artistic impact.

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July 20th, 2009 | Reviews and Media | No comments