Prokofiev: Cinderella and Romeo & Juliet

The opportunity afforded me this year by the double-Prokofiev season of the Houston Ballet has been terrific. Not only did I have the chance to see Prokofiev’s Cinderella, fully staged a couple of months ago, but this weekend I returned to see what is undoubtedly Prokofiev’s most important ballet: Romeo and Juliet.

For more than 60% of my lifetime, my experience with ballet has been mostly as a pit musician. I wouldn’t trade it for anything, though there is always a sense of missing something when in the confines of the pit. I’ve endured it for years, craning my neck in rehearsals, and even performances, to get a fleeting glimpse of the action which might be at the very front of the stage. Sometimes the great singers would come for the fully staged opera seasons in San Antonio, ages ago, and a Beverly Sills, or Donald Gramm, might intentionally come forward on the stage in order to better connect with the accompanying musicians. Of course, now and then a musician might actually be assigned a passage to be played either onstage, or offstage, in the wings of the stage. The point of this is that working orchestral musicians don’t often get to enjoy the stagecraft, nor do they get the full experience of a Rosenkavalier, or Traviata, or Rodeo.

I do have especially fond memories of the mini-seasons the Joffrey Ballet used to give in San Antonio. On rare occasions, I would have the opportunity to actually view a performance from the audience perspective. Copland’s Rodeo required only 2 horns in the pit, so I got to witness some of the most American, and athletic, ballet I have ever seen. Same with the Joffrey’s performance of the bold anti-war classic The Green Table. But I digress (willingly).

In the case of Prokofiev’s stage works, I have only played War and Peace in anything resembling staged. In fact, it was a semi-staged performance, in San Antonio, conducted by Sarah Caldwell. Yes, I’ve played extended suites from Cinderella and Romeo and Juliet, but only in orchestral form. That’s why the recent opportunity to see both of these Prokofiev masterworks from the public side of the proscenium has been so special. First, there was Cinderella, in a choreography by the Houston Ballet’s resident Artistic Director, Stanton Welch. Sources in the orchestra, from whom I got my prized complimentary tickets, thought the Cinderella was a bit twisted and quirky. Of course, they hadn’t actually seen the show; they were relying on comments heard from the dancers. And maybe they were right, though I thought the quirks were entertaining and well executed. I came away from the Cinderella experience quite moved by the power of the art of dance with great music. I also drove back home to San Antonio with a genuine respect for the Houston Ballet and its musicians. Brava to my friend Margaret Ayer for the quarter century she has put into the horn section. She always told me it was a fine orchestra, and now I knew she was right.

This week, I have been keenly anticipating the weekend trip to Houston for the Houston Ballet’s season closing staging of Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliet. How would it compare with Cinderella, still fresh in my memory? Will Romeo and Juliet truly prove itself the superior work of the two? Will the orchestra impress me as much as it had on first hearing? And how would my friend Margaret be feeling about these performances? She had made the difficult decision to step away from the job at the end of this 2011-2012 season. I knew this couldn’t be easy. Margaret outdid herself with the tickets she scored for R&J. I got a great seat in the orchestra section, 6^th row from the front. From there I could hear every detail within the orchestra and, more impressively, I could see every gesture from the excellent company of principal and company dancers. One word – WOW!

This was the Ben Stevenson choreography, dating back to 1987. I say this not as a ballet snob, for I am no where near, but because of the opinions I hear from within the Houston company. There are preferences and prejudices in every direction contrasting the company's work with Mr. Stevenson (he was Artistic Director from 1976-2003) and his successor, Stanton Welch. It was interesting for me to see Mr. Welch's Cinderella and Mr. Stevenson's Romeo and Juliet; I enjoyed both immensely. Interestingly, they both had little twists and quirks. I loved that Cinderella was a bit of a tom-boy, and the zombie dance in the graveyard scene (also in Cinderella) was both funny and twisted. Regarding Ben Stevenson's Romeo and Juliet, I found it interesting that he portrayed the Montagues as a much more footloose clan of the streets, intent on joking and provoking the Capulets, especially Tybalt, who had little patience for it.

Of course, the real story is the love between Romeo and Juliet, and that is amplified by the deeply moving music of Prokofiev. As with his Cinderella score, Prokofiev is an expert at providing the prescribed solo, duet and ensemble numbers which are expected in ballet. But in skilled hands, both those of the composer and the choreographer, these dances are much more than just filigree or athletics. Also apparent is that these are great fun for the dancers. And before I get to the emotionally charged performances by the principals, I must praise the attention to every detail so impressively realized in Houston. If the audience could pull its focus away from the center stage event, the viewer would find the periphery just as entertaining, albeit in a different manner, ranging from young thieves stealing loaves of bread from the street vendor, to amorous couples in the implied alleyways.

Venezuelan born Karina Gonzalez danced Juliet to Ian Casady's Romeo in the matinee performance I witnessed. Amazingly, Ms. Gonzalez is not among the principals or first soloists in the roster. She is in the third rank of soloist. This, I suppose, gives remarkable evidence of the depth of this company, for her performance was amazing. She played the character exactly right – as a girl just on the cusp of womanhood. It wasn't so much physical womanhood as emotional coming of age. And, or course, Prokofiev's music perfectly underscored that moment of first love. The balcony scene moved me to tears, as did the final scene at the Capulet's crypt. There is still no explanation of why art grips us as it does, why it reaches within our breasts and squeezes our hearts. I'm not sure there should ever be an explanation. It is best to simply allow music, dance, painting, theater, literature (the list goes on) to make us laugh, to make us cry, to overwhelm us emotionally. Every living soul needs such nurture. It's why we must never allow the lights to go dark on the arts. This is the food for our souls and we must continue to cultivate it at every corner.

-James Baker

Three Favorite Concert Halls in Mexico

Several important things are required of a good concert hall - 1. it must be a comfortable and pleasant experience for the audience. 2. it must have a good acoustic quality for both the music and the performer. 3. all of the above.

I worked as a musician in Mexico, serving at several important posts during the 1980s. During that time, I had the opportunity to play in a lot of different theatres, some good, some bad or indifferent, and a few of them great. First, a few remarks about the not so good halls. The excellent Orquesta Filarmonica de la Ciudad de Mexico (Mexico City Philharmonic) is poorly served by their home, the Sala Ollin Yolitzli. Mexico's Sinfonica Nacional does somewhat better. The Teatro Bellas Artes is a marvel to look at and presents an interesting interior hall for the pleasure of the audience. Unfortunately, it leaves something to be desired in terms of the acoustics. This is more a problem for the musicians than for the listener. However, the concert experience is only optimal when a concert space serves both the players and the listeners.

Sala Nezahualcoyotl - Mexico City



By far the best venue in Mexico City, and one of the very best in all of the Americas, is the Sala Nezahualcoyotl, on the campus of Mexico's National University (UNAM). The physical setting, next to ancient lava flows, is spectacular. But the absolute proof of this as one of the finest concert halls in the world is found inside. The sight is stunning and the sound is superb.  This is the permanent home of the Orquesta Filarmonica de la UNAM, and the Sala Neza (as it is sometimes called) hosts the Orquesta Sinfonica de Mineria during the summer months. Musicians count themselves extremely fortunate to play here.

Teatro de la Ciudad - downtown Mexico City

Another enjoyable venue is the Teatro de la Ciudad, located in the historic center of Mexico City. This theatre, built in 1918, survived a fire in the mid-1980s, and is today a popular location for music of all sorts. It's not an exceptional acoustic, but I nevertheless love the ambience. I've played orchestral concerts here, and opera. I've also listened to full orchestras here, and opera too. One of my fondest memories was hearing the legendary saxophonist Dexter Gordon in the Teatro de la Ciudad.



Finally, another very beautiful theatre is the Teatro Degollado, in Guadalajara. Here one finds history (the theatre was inaugurated in 1866) and classic beauty, from the chandeliered entry to the oh so European looking interior. The sound is not great, but it's not too bad either. Musicians enjoy playing this venue. It serves as the home of the Orquesta Filarmonica de Jalisco, now conducted by Alondra de la Parra.

Teatro Degollado - Guadalajara

On this week's edition of Itinerarios, you will have the opportunity to hear performances recorded in the Sala Nezahualcoyotl. I encourage you, if you are so fortunate as to travel to Mexico City or Guadalajara, to check out the three theatres I describe here. Your visit to Mexico will be enhanced by the experience.

-James Baker, host and producer of Itinerarios





















Daniel Catán, 1949-2011

Mexican composer Daniel Catán, known for his operas “Il Postino” and “Florencia en el Amazonas,” died Friday, April 8 in Austin. He was 62. Catan was born in 1949 in Mexico City, and was the first Mexican composer to have an opera produced in the United States.
His opera “Il Postino” premiered in Los Angeles in the fall of 2010. The opera was based on the Oscar-winning film, and book by Antonio Skarmeta. Placido Domingo took the role of exiled Chilean poet Pablo Neruda, who befriends a young postman.

Catán was to be in Houston this past weekend for the University of Houston Moores School of Music production of "Il Postino." The final performance was scheduled for this evening at 7:30. Earlier this spring, Catán's opera "Rappacini's Daughter" was staged at the University of Texas in Austin.
At the time of his death, Catán was working on another adaptation. His next project was to be an operatic version of Frank Capra’s “Meet John Doe,” commissioned by the University of Texas.

Last fall, KPAC’s James Baker spoke to Catán about “Il Postino” and his orchestral music.

Part 1: http://audio.tpr.org/itinerarios11091502.mp3
Part 2: http://audio.tpr.org/itinerarios11091501.mp3

Catán in February, 2011: http://audio.tpr.org/itinerarios1102.mp3


You can also listen to an interview with Catán on this page, from KPAC's Classical Spotlight: http://www.tpr.org/classicalspotlight/2011/02/cs1102241.html

Giving Thanks for Role Models

Throughout a lifetime, we all encounter numerous teachers, some better than others. If we're lucky, we might even encounter a teacher whose lessons linger forever.

I believe most musicians have an inner  voice which we rely upon when the chips are down and we are trying to do something extraordinary. That voice, I believe, is often that of our truest teacher. The voice which always speaks to me at such times is that of Wayne Barrington, my French horn teacher during my years at UT Austin in the late 60s and early 70s. He is my role model and I give thanks each time I hold my horn in my hand for all he gave me . But it's much more than that. Mr. Barrington's lessons were foremost about playing the horn, but many times he also taught discipline, honor and integrity. For those life lessons I give thanks.

In June of this year, a number of Mr. Barrington's former students gathered to honor him for the myriad lessons he offered us over his long years as an educator and role model. I am thankful we had this opportunity to again say thank you to such an extraordinary man. Thank you, Maestro.

-Contributed by James Baker-

Pierre Boulez Conducts Mahler 7th on Great Performances

PBS's Great Performances will air the Chicago Symphony's recent performance of Gustav Mahler's 7th Symphony this evening (10/27/1010) at 8 o'clock (Central) on local affiliate KLRN-San Antonio. This is a must see event, conducted by Pierre Boulez.

Health issues have forced recently appointed Music Director Ricardo Muti to step down from his Fall concerts with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. The disappointment amongst patrons and fans of the CSO is understandable. I was recently in Chicago and had the opportunity to attend a program of Wagner, Chavez and Beethoven. Although I, too, was saddened to miss Muti on the podium, I must say the orchestra still proudly displays its world class virtuosity tempered with immaculate musicianship. I came away mightily impressed. This was not my first time to hear the Chicagoans live, but it might have been the finest concert by the CSO I have been privileged to attend.

What a shame that I had to return to San Antonio just as they announced that Boulez would be coming in a few days later for the Mahler 7th. Both Boulez and Mahler's 7th Symphony loom large for the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. The musicians love and respect Boulez. His affiliation with the CSO goes back to 1969 and includes 11 years (1995-2006) as the orchestra's principal guest conductor. As far as the Mahler goes, the CSO has a firm reputation as a Mahler orchestra. Years ago, when I took a few private French horn lessons with the orchestra's principal horn Dale Clevenger, Mr. Clevenger mentioned that at that time the orchestra regarded their recording of Mahler's 7th with Georg Solti as the best representation of how they believed the orchestra sounded. This enthusiasm is not only a sonic endorsement, but also an indication of the orchestra's affinity for this particular symphony. This, of course, makes tonight's Great Performances broadcast all the more compelling.

For the record, this Great Performances broadcast will repeat several times, mostly in the wee hours of the morning. Check local listings for details.

Submitted: James Baker

The Wadenpfuhl Legacy: RIP Jay Wadenpfuhl (1950-2010)

It continues to baffle me when I hear the question: "How are we ever going to guide a younger audience to classical music?" The fact is, they are already out there, primed for classical music and, in many cases, for careers in music. For all the grumbling about there being no music in our public schools, band, orchestra and choral programs are alive and mostly well. We should all wake up to the fantastic job so many of our music educators are doing and say "thank you."

"Oh, those band kids are all just geeks who don't fit in elsewhere." That's one statement I heard recently. Many will also cast aspersions upon the music these youngsters are learning, especially those "geeky" band kids. Truth is, there is a lot of great music they are learning to play, much of it as closely related to "classical music" as the looney tunes and movie music we often cite as gateways to classical music. Not all of these kids will stick with their music educations, and most won't pursue anything in music beyond high school; however, these band, chorus and orchestra geeks will come away with an appreciation for great music. They will also pick up problem solving skills and discipline which will serve them well in their later lives as doctors, lawyers, teachers, public servants and the myriad other careers they will follow throughout their adult lives. Some of these kids will even become supporters of public radio.

Texas is blessed with some of the greatest music educators in the country. But the Wadenpfuhl Family is exceptional even by Texas standards. Karl Wadenpfuhl was born in Louisiana and educated at LSU, where he played trumpet in the ROTC Cadet Band. He would later switch to French horn when he joined the U.S. Army Air Force Field Band. Karl's early career as a music educator took him through several posts before arriving in Kirbyville, Texas in 1949. There he put down roots, started a family, and began to produce a long string of award-winning bands. He and his wife, Lottie, also began producing a family of musicians; all four of their children became musicians and music educators. In 1997, Karl Wadenpfuhl was inducted into the Texas Bandmasters Hall of Fame.

While in high school, I had the good fortune of advancing in my senior year to All-State Band. On the first morning of the Texas Music Educators Association (TMEA) convention, 16 of the best high school French horn players in the state sat in a semi-circle within a huge conference room at the Rice Hotel in Houston. The final audition which would determine our overall ranking began. I knew I was somewhat out of my league when some of those kids began to play. In particular, there was a spectacular player from Beaumont who won the cherished first horn position. His name was Jay Wadenpfuhl, son of Karl and Lottie Wadenpfuhl. As the years rolled by and my music education took me to the University of Texas at Austin, I continued to see the name Wadenpfuhl at the All-State level. This was becoming a horn player dynasty.

In fact, both Jay and his brother Ken Wadenpfuhl went on to highly successful careers as orchestral players. Jay landed his "plum" job in 1981 when he won a position in the Boston Symphony. A recent inventory of the Wadenpfuhl family legacy reveals 10 horn players in just 3 generations. In addition, the family has produced 4 celebrated band directors.

My reasons for writing of the remarkable Wadenpfuhl Family are twofold. One is to demonstrate that there are indeed generations of music lovers flowing through our public schools, many touched by extraordinary teachers such as Karl Wadenpfuhl or, in my case, the Victoria High School band director Fred Junkin. These young people may not transition directly into San Antonio Symphony ticket holders, or members of KPAC, but many will eventually get there, thanks to their positive public school experience.

The second reason for introducing you to the Wadenpfuhls is somber. Although I never really knew Jay Wadenpfuhl beyond his bigger than life reputation (he called himself Tex on Facebook), I was nevertheless deeply saddened to learn of his passing this week, after an extended illness. He touched many with his gifts as a player, teacher and composer. May he Rest in Peace.

Frank Epstein, a longtime BSO colleague and chair of Brass and Percussion at the New England Conservatory, said this about Wadenpfuhl: “Jay, was a one of a kind personality, emotionally charged yet highly committed to all things musical. An unusual talent, he was a composer of brass music and loved to conduct pieces in the brass repertoire. His playing was elegant, stylistically fluent and secure, his tone beautifully centered at all times, while his playing was always musical with an extraordinary sense of good taste. He was also a committed teacher.”

Sadly, I must also report that within the past 6 months, both Karl and Lottie Wadenpfuhl also passed away. One is tempted to sum this up as the end of an era, except there are more Wadenpfuhl musicians just emerging from major music schools across the country. The spirit and the name live on.

Submitted by James Baker

On the Road with James Baker and Itinerarios

"Just across the street Mexico began. We looked with wonder. To our amazement, it looked exactly like Mexico." Thus wrote Jack Kerouac, seeing Mexico for the first time through the eyes of narrator Sal Paradise in the essential road novel On the Road.

My first Mexico road trip came in the early 70s, Spring Break from UT. I headed my naturally low riding Chevy Biscayne to the border, crossing at Reynosa. I intended to follow my nose, camping wherever I could pitch my one-man pup tent. This trip ignited a passion in me for Mexico, one which still burns white hot.

"Then we turned our faces to Mexico with bashfulness and wonder as those dozens of Mexican cats watched us from under their secret hatbrims in the night. Beyond were music and all-night restaurants with smoke pouring out of the door. 'Whee,' whispered Dean very softly." (On the Road, Jack Kerouac)

If you think you know Mexico from the border regions, think again. Although this is an important geography and culture - the border - it all changes within miles of the immigration station. The roads begin to wind through the countryside, expressing an abandon unknown in the world left behind. I headed my car in the direction of Monterrey, then further West, higher into the surrounding mountains. I camped at the end of a dirt road, listening to the sounds of a distant shepherd and his flock.

Sal Paradise and Dean Moriarty, Jack Kerouac's On the Road characters, were seeing their slice of Mexico in the early 50s. The Pan-American Highway ran from Laredo to Monterrey, then South and East, unlike today's more common route which slices the Central Highlands through Matehuala (a great place to stop for the night), onward to San Luis Potosi, Queretaro, and Mexico City. That explains why Kerouac's characters found themselves passing through Montemorelos, Linares and Hidalgo, eventually stopping in Gregoria, a largely imagined town which was alive with music:

"Behind the bar was the proprietor, a young fellow who instantly ran out when we told him we wanted to hear mambo music and came back with a stack of records, mostly by Pérez-Prado, and put them on over the loudspeaker........In a few minutes half that portion of town was at the windows, watching the Americanos dance with the gals. They all stood, side by side with the cops, on the dirt sidewalk, leaning in with indifference and casualness. 'More Mambo Jambo,' 'Chattanooga de Mambo,' 'Mambo Numero Ocho' - all these tremendous numbers resounded and flared in the golden, mysterious afternoon like the sounds you expect to hear on the last day of the world and the Second Coming." (On the Road, Jack Kerouac)

Kerouac's journey to Mexico ended in Mexico City, the last of the road trips Sal Paradise would take with Dean Moriarty. My own road trip, the first one, ended in the mountains South of Monterrey when my gas tank snagged on logs across a small waterway. I looked back in the rear view mirror to see the tank rocking back and forth, back and forth. There was just enough gasoline in the fuel line to back up to the tank. Now the canyon came alive with Mexicans descending from the hills to watch the gringo on the edge of panic. They brought tools and offered advice as I managed to lift the tank back into place and secure it with the dangling straps. The crowd celebrated by jumping into my car for a joy ride, a ride which lasted until we encountered a bus going back to the hills from which the campesinos had descended.

"Adios!" they shouted. "Qué le vaya bien!"

This week, on Itinerarios, the mambos of Pérez-Prado will be found, played by the Mexico City based wind octet Sinfonietta Ventus. We will also hear a musical picture of another destination from On the Road, Pachuca de Soto. This week's program also takes us off road, to Lake Patzcuaro and the island Janitzio. Please join me as I share with you music from Mexico this Sunday evening at 7 o'clock, on KPAC-San Antonio and KTXI-Ingram. Not in the San Antonio area? Listen online at TPR.org.

James Baker, host and producer of Itinerarios

Brian Easdale, the Ondes Martenot, and The Red Shoes

The problem I have with film music as concert music is that they are for the most part incompatible. The best film music reinforces the action of the movie, sometimes so subtly that the viewer in the movie theater is unaware of the music. This is not to say the music is without value to the film. Take it away, and the experience of the film is diminished.

Pairing the right film, or film maker, to the right composer is almost as delicate a process as the marriage of composer and lyricist, or composer and librettist. Many a great composer has flopped miserably when engaged to score for the big screen. A great example would be Heitor Villa-Lobos. His composer credentials are absolutely in order, but Villa-Lobos never understood the role of music in the movie. Consider the film Green Mansions. Villa-Lobos either didn't understand or didn't care to understand the idea of film music as cues. He wrote in a broad sweep music which he intended to be heard. He simply would not rewrite the music to align with the frames of the movie and when others were brought in to do the hack work Villa-Lobos retreated, sorely disappointed with the experience. He reclaimed his music, restoring it into an extended concert form called Forests of the Amazon, and that is how the music survives today.

On the other hand, many composers work very well with film, understanding fully their music as underscore rather than the star of the movie. Bring this music to the concert hall and it is largely ineffective. Just listen to a soundtrack album to understand what I mean. Outside of the main title or occasional extended chase or love scene, the music is not allowed to say much of value. Take it away from the popcorn and milk duds and the music pales. This is why it is so extraordinary when film music does make the leap to the concert stage. In rare instances it can even make the transition without adaptation or rearrangement. However, the best of the best benefits greatly from adaptation into suites, thus allowing the music to rise and fall, soar and weep, without having to align to the despotic film frame.

Brian Easdale came to music as a "legitimate" composer, studying under Armstrong Gibbs and Gordon Jacob at the Royal College of Music. His earliest music was concert music. However, from the mid-30s onwards he was increasingly involved with film, writing for the GPO Film Unit - a division of the UK Postal Service. This would have been largely documentary film, allowing a much freer hand to the composer. During the years of World War II, Easdale was first assigned to The Royal Artillery, soon to be reposted to the Public Relations Film Unit, India. This is hardly the career path of today's film composers, but somewhat parallels the film period of American composers such as Virgil Thomson and others who worked on projects for the United States Resettlement Administration.

In 1948, Brian Easdale produced his most important film score for the movie The Red Shoes. This somewhat free adaptation of the Hans Christian Anderson story by the same name blossoms into a 17 minute dance section which, of course, allowed the composer to create music more akin to concert music than film music. Easdale did not waste the opportunity; the ballet music is one of the reasons Easdale's score won the Academy Award for Best Original Score, making him the first British composer to win the award. Contemporary accounts of the score describe it as modernist, though the most surprising "modern" moments are provided by Easdale's use of the instrument known as Ondes Martenot (French for Martenot waves - it was invented in 1928 by Maurice Martenot). One of the earliest electronic instruments, the Ondes Martenot looks part mad inventor and part religious icon. The sound can be described as angelic or science fiction and there's little mistaking the sound when it emerges out of the orchestral soundscape.

Brian Easdale had one stipulation regarding his score for The Red Shoes. He asked that Sir Thomas Beecham be allowed to give an opinion on the score before submitting it. Thankfully, Sir Thomas liked the work and in fact volunteered to conduct the recording of the ballet segment. This brings us pretty much full circle in this brief discussion of composing music for film, for Thomas Beecham had little patience for the making of films. For this reason, he insisted the music be recorded first, leaving it to the dancers and the technicians to spot the frames to the music, rather than the other way round. One can almost hear Villa-Lobos complaining he should have had the same opportunity with Green Mansions.

submitted by James Baker

Remembering Gene Lees

"Gene Lees, a multitalented writer who left a lasting mark on jazz as a biographer, opinionated critic and graceful song lyricist, died April 22 at his home in Ojai, CA, after a stroke. He was 82."

-----Matt Schudel, Washington Post

Most will not recognize the name Gene Lees and therefore will not understand that we lost one of our great observers of, and writers about, jazz when Mr. Lees passed away April 22 at the age of 82. Stated briefly, Gene Lees had two great loves: language and music. One would not want to engage Mr. Lees in a conversation about "pop" music. He believed it to be the product of illiterates. On the other hand, Mr. Lees would have been more than happy to talk about jazz, or the Great American Songbook, or even classical music. More importantly, Gene Lees spent his lifetime doing just that, talking (writing) about music. His observations were always those of one with a keen eye and ear. His writing was of a quality that a reader would linger over, savoring the vocabulary and the remarkable turns of phrase. Gene Lees understood the important relationship between language and the ear. This was another aspect of his craft - he was lyricist to music by Jobim, Bill Evans, Lalo Schifrin and others. And he also knew the craft of singing. If you search long and hard you can find recordings of Gene Lees, the singer.

Gene Lees penned numerous books, many of them biographies of musicians he knew and admired: Johnny Mercer, Oscar Peterson, Woody Herman. Dozens more books are filled with his essays and published articles on topics largely to do with musicians, but as far ranging as his essay which contrasts French and English language and culture and their influence on songwriting. That's where I started years ago, with a collection called Singers and the Song. At that time I was a student of (and still am) Alec Wilder's essential American Popular Song: The Great Innovators. A friend recommended Lees' Singers and the Song as an accompaniment to the Wilder. From the moment I cracked open Singers I was hooked on the highly crafted writing and observation of Gene Lees.

In 2004, I set out to write and produce (with Kathy Couser) a 7-part series called The Art of American Popular Song, inspired largely by Wilder's book on the topic. As we lined up numerous contributors and guests, a friend encouraged me to include Gene Lees in the lineup. Great, I thought, if I can only find a way to contact him. In fact, I had no luck in tracking him down. It was only through some sort of devine intervention that my friend made some inquiries and phone calls, yielding contact information for Mr. Lees. I was ecstatic when he agreed to be interviewed.

Please take time to play the several portions of my interview which are provided here as a remembrance of Gene Lees. These extracts are taken from within the context of the program and find Mr. Lees remembering Alec Wilder, Frank Sinatra and Harold Arlen. And please take the time to read some of Gene Lees marvelous books and essays. His writing, rigorous but oh so lyric, is all too uncommon these days. ----James Baker

Tenor-itis

Mexican tenor Villazon needs larynx surgery
Rolando Villazon's (seen left) concert organizer in Germany says the Mexican tenor needs surgery to remove a cyst on his larynx and has canceled two performances in the country.
Deutsche Entertainment AG said in Wednesday's statement that Villazon should be well enough to return to the stage by the end of the year.
Villazon apologized to his fans for canceling a concert slated to take place in Berlin on Thursday and another in Hamburg on May 8. They are to be rescheduled for 2010.
Earlier this month Villazon was forced to cancel a series of performances at New York's Metropolitan Opera due to acute laryngitis.

Tune in this Sunday for the artistry of Juan Diego Florez (seen right) on Itinerarios with James Baker. Sunday night at 7pm, we'll have his latest cd and an interview with the Peruvian tenor! The reigning “King of the high C” tells what it’s like to sing an encore at the Met and of his love for the sentimental Latin song. Only on KPAC & KTXI, your classical oasis!

Maestro Chosei Komatsu

Texas Public Radio will speak with all the candidates for the San Antonio Symphony Music Director Search and have them on Classical Spotlight. You'll get a chance to learn more about the maestros - don't forget to attend the symphony and fill out the questionaire as well!

This week we talk with Chosei Komatsu. James Baker asked about the program, music and working in Latin countries.

Basic Library - Maestro Levine

For decades, Americans have suffered an inferiority complex when it comes to classical music, in particular regarding conductors of classical music. Yes! There was Leonard Bernstein and his legend still casts a mighty and important shadow, both nationally and internationally. But take a look at where American orchestras shop for their conductors. It's mostly in the international marketplace, especially in Europe. Fritz Reiner, George Szell, Bruno Walter, Arturo Toscanini, Sir Georg Solti, they all played mighty roles in building our American musical institutions into polished voices of classical music. Look around today, and you still find mostly Europeans conducting the important American orchestras. One of the most anticipated (and surprising) recent appointments was the naming of Riccardo Muti as the new maestro of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra.

For over 40 years there has been an important American conductor at work, and doing most of his important conducting here in his home country. James Levine has done it quietly, at times with little fanfare, but never disappointing with his final, well-crafted product. And for much of that time, James Levine has headed what some would regard as the premier American musical institution, The Metropolitan Opera. So why has such a career gone largely unheralded? Maybe we have to go back to the sad fact of the myth of the European conductor, that only Europeans can play the role of podium star.

James Levine turns 65 this weekend. While many might look to retirement at this age, the Maestro of the Met is continuing full speed ahead, giving much of his current attention to his Directorship of the Boston Symphony. Over the next couple of weeks, the KPAC Basic Library will play Happy Birthday for Maestro Levine by presenting an overview of why this American musician succeeds in a Eurocentric arena. Levine is the complete package of extraordinary musical abilities. He is a conductor, a pianist, an accompanist, and a seer. Tune in for James Levine and the Met, James Levine and the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, James Levine in Boston and James Levine, the pianist, at Carnegie Hall and at Chicago's Ravinia Festival. And still we won't make a dent in the extensive James Levine discography. It's a two-week long birthday bash, with James Levine on the KPAC Basic Library, Saturday evening at 5:30.

James Baker, KPAC host