Verbal diarrhea?

I just submitted a record review to the Washington City Paper. Their guidelines recommend a length of 700 to 2,000 words for music reviews. With a title and a byline, I managed to eek out 798 words, and that after stretching to find something negative about the record just to contradict the New York Times. Who in their right mind could write 2,000 words about a CD?! No recording, good or otherwise, needs to have that much written about it. The better the record, the less commentary it should need, and one can take this argument to its logical extreme and say that a truly great album needs nothing at all -- the music stands on its own 100%. That's pushing it, I realize. We are creatures of analogy and similarity, and even a sublime album could benefit from a few words about roughly what the listener should expect, in general terms. But 2,000 words?! Give me a break.

More of the same

Yesterday, Putin's government barred Mikhail Kasyanov, one of the opposition candidates, from the upcoming Russian presidential election on the pretext that some of the signatures he had to gather to get on the ballot were forged. What's new, right? But a couple of things struck me.

First of all, I would not be at all surprised if the signatures were forged – a megalomaniac tyrant without a democratic bone in his body like Putin no doubt inspires opposition that is worthy of him. But let's be charitable and assume they were all genuine. The polls show that even if the opposition candidate was allowed to run and the election was held fairly (which it won't be), he would stand no chance of winning or even making a credible threat to Putin's anointed successor. The national television, to whose coverage he would be entitled if he ran, already excoriates him at every opportunity. Wouldn't allowing him to run provide Putin with a perfect opportunity to use him as “evidence” that Russia does in fact have a democratic process in place?

It is true that there is already a candidate in place that is serving this function – his signatures (also suspected by some of having been forged, by the way) have recently been certified as legit. You would think the more the better – if neither one is a realistic threat, why admit one and exclude the other? There is only one obvious difference – Kasyanov is perceived as being influenced by the West. So we're back to the irrational, xenophobic, jingoistic fear of the West simply because it is the West. More specifically, in classic Orwellian fashion, what Putin is afraid of is the flow of information in from the West, and anything or anyone that is perceived to be facilitating this flow will be creatively eliminated. As I said, what's new, right?

Playing vs. listening

The other night, I felt an urge to take up the guitar again. I haven't owned a guitar, let alone played one, in years, and thought I was done for good. I was never dedicated enough to sound good even to myself, much less to others, so giving up was the responsible thing to do. The other night, though, I was reading an essay by Edward Rothstein, included in Joan Peyser's The Orchestra: Origins and Transformations, on the evolution of the music fan through the centuries, and he pointed out that while in the XIX century, people who were into music almost always played instruments, today they almost never do.

The invention of recording bears most of the responsibility for this – before recordings became widespread, there were two ways to hear music: go to a concert, or play it yourself. Today, in addition to those two, you can also put on a record. Concerts are still well-attended (surprisingly so, some might say), but of the other two, which requires less effort? You guessed it. What Rothstein points out, though, is that musicians and non-musicians listen differently, and pay attention to different aspects of a performance. A musician must pay attention to the physical experience of manipulating an instrument, dynamics, relationships between multiple voices, etc. A non-musician needs to do nothing more than register the main melody and overall mood of a work. I'm not going to reproduce Rothstein's entire argument here, but among other things, he traces the very concept of a “catchy tune” to a civilization of non-playing music fans.

This is understandable, but a little sad, I think. There is nothing wrong with enjoying a live performance or even a good recording of a great piece of music as a passive listener. It can be transformative, in fact. But I am probably missing out a bit. A greater awareness of what it means to play music would affect the way I digest a work when I listen. Rothstein says that it definitely would, and in profound ways. Learning an entirely new instrument at my age would be too steep a mountain to climb, but perhaps if I went back to an instrument I have had at least some contact with in the past would reduce the price of admission somewhat. A playable nylon-string guitar can be had for as little as $100 these days – no excuse not to make a fool of myself all over again, right?

Strong Beers Tasting

Went to the Strong Beers tasting at the Brickskeller last night with C.S. and a few of his friends. It's been a while since I've attended one of their tastings. It seemed smaller and more quiet than in years past, but it may have been due to the theme of this particular tasting -- these were not your everyday beers. To some extent they are experiments on the part of their respective brewers who want to see how far they can push the envelope. They were all very strong, sometimes overpowering, both in alcohol and flavor, intense winter seasonal brews. All tended to de-epmphasize the fresh, floral hoppiness of classic American microbrews and were, to a greater or lesser degree, sweet. There were only two beers that I could see myself drinking in any quantity. All breweries were more or less local to the Washington-Baltimore area. What follows are my highly unscientific observations about each one, in order in which they were served.

Gordon Biersch (Rockville, MD) Alte Bock
Style: Single Bock (German ale). 6.5% ABV. Dark tan color. Cloudy appearance. Not much of a nose. Reasonably balanced on the palate, creamy feel, fairly dry compared to the rest, with reasonably pronounced hops. The least intimidating and one of two most drinkable of the bunch. Soon to be available on draft at GB Rockville.

Brewer's Alley (Frederick, MD) Scotch Ale
Style: Scotch Ale. 8% ABV. Reddish color. Nose is initially sweet, eventually I thought I detected some gingerbread and prunes. Sweet on the palate, no hops, no bitterness, but reasonably fruity. A little one-dimensional for my taste, but reasonably well put together. Available now on draft at Brewer's Alley.

Red Brick Station (Baltimore, MD) 2006 Highlander Wee-Heavy
Style: Wee-heavy (Scottish strong ale). 10% ABV. Dark reddish-brown color. Weak nose. Smoky on the palate. Also somewhat bitter, but not a hoppy kind of bitterness. This beer was barrel-aged for four years. Interesting, but I would not want a pint or even a goblet. Current vintage available at Red Brick Station, if memory serves.

Wharf Rat (Baltimore, MD) Hot Monkey Love
Style: Who knows. Probably American strong ale tending towards barley wine. 10% ABV. Dark brown color. Very funky on the nose. First whiff said "dirty kitchen sponge" until I realized that what I was smelling was intense fresh yeast, like a big lump of cake yeast. Also -- go ahead and laugh me out of the house for this (one of C.S.'s friends did) -- I detected some dried bananas. Not the crunchy banana chips you find in trail mix, but the Asian-style ones. They are dried whole until they are rubbery and sticky, and have a distinctive smell (they are very good, by the way). That's what this beer smelled like. On the palate, surprisingly complex and drier than expected, with grassy notes. Maybe some celery. It is brewed with 120 lbs. of clover honey per batch, and wins the award for best name. Way too intense to drink in any quantity. Available (I think) at both Wharf Rat locations.

Gordon Biersch (Washington, DC) Baltic Porter
Style: Dark lager. Apparently, this type of beer was actually somewhat popular at the turn of the last century in certain parts of Central and Eastern Europe -- Northern Poland, Lithuania, Ukraine. It was a local approximation of Russian Imperial Stouts made in England for Russian aristocracy. 8% ABV. Very dark brown color. Strong coffee on the nose. Coffee and chocolate on the palate, with a noticeable Germanic shrimpy notes from the lager yeast. Very drinkable and hands down my favorite of the bunch. Currently on draft at GB DC. I'm going.

District Chop House (Washington, DC) Double Bock
Style: Double Bock. 9.3% ABV. Almost black in color. Plasticky on the nose. Fruity on the palate, but one-dimensionally sweet. None for me, thank you.

Franklin's (Hyattsville, MD) Imperial Stout
Style: Imperial Stout. 10% ABV. Classic stout look -- black. Coffee on the nose, but also very perfumy. Balanced and smooth on the palate. Very impressive, but too strong to drink in quantity. Available for a little while longer on draft at Franklin's.

Sweetwater Tavern (Merrifield, VA) High Desert Imperial Stout
Style: Imperial stout. ABV: neglected to write down. Black color. Slightly smoky and tarry on the nose. Some bitterness on the palate, especially in the finish, but like the Highlander, not a hoppy bitterness. One of C.S.'s friends described it perfectly: blackstrap molasses.

DuClaw (Baltimore, MD) Hybrid Strong Ale
Style: Strong ale/barley wine. ABV: 21.92%. I kid you not. Evidently, it has been independently verified by a lab (hence two decimal places). Clear amber color. Candy on the nose. Cloyingly sweet on the palate -- cola and ripe strawberries. Sheer insanity.

One of the topics of discussion, both in the audience's questions and among the brewers, was the current US hops shortage. A crop failure is sending prices through the roof and making availability tight, but apparently there is a more permanent problem -- hop growers in the Pacific Northwest are tearing out their hop vines and planting apple orchards instead for economic reasons. The brewers tried to put up a front of optimism by saying that other varieties of hops will eventually be grown by others and/or elsewhere, resulting in some interesting new flavors down the line, but I got a sense that they are worried.

Grmiaud vs. Ashkenazy

A while ago, I pitted Hélène Grimaud’s rendition of Beethoven’s Tempest sonata against that of Andras Schiff. Grimaud’s most recent CD is that of Beethoven’s Emperor concerto (No. 5, E-flat) accompanied by the Dresden Staatskapelle under Vladimir Jurowski (about whom I know nothing). I own the CD, and since in addition to it, I also have a recording of Vladimir Ashkenazy performing the Emperor with the Chicago Symphony under Solti (part of a complete cycle of Beethoven concertos), I figured another comparison would be fun.

I should start out by saying that the comparison is not entirely fair. Grimaud was recorded barely a year ago, in December of 2006, while Ashkenazy dates back from the early 1970s; it was digitally remastered for a CD release in the mid-1990s. As a result, the Grimaud disc sounds vastly better. The orchestral accompaniment in particular sounds rich, with each instrument clearly delineated and recorded with impressive fidelity to its natural timbre. The orchestral tracks on the Ashkenazy disk, by comparison, sound a bit like a muddy mess. Still, for its vintage, it sounds good enough to attempt a meaningful comparison.

It would be fair to say that the two interpretations are not dramatically different. Neither one is radical. A listener who already has a copy of one does not need to spend money to buy a copy of the other. That said, identifiable differences do exist. The most obvious one is once again in the recording – on the Grimaud disc, the balance overwhelmingly favors the soloist. It is clear that the orchestra is there to accompany and provide support. The focus is unrelentingly on Grimaud herself. Ashkenazy, by contrast, is more of an equal partner with the Chicago Symphony. The balance is even, and both the soloist and the orchestra command roughly the same amount of attention. In that respect, the Ashkenazy/Chicago approach actually appeals to me more. Beethoven’s orchestral writing in the Emperor is so rich, varied and interesting that it’s a shame to gloss over it.

Solti’s tempos are a little slower than Jurowski’s. They are not slow in an absolute sense, but the difference is noticeable, and once again I think Solti’s approach works better. He directs his orchestra with enough brio not to lose the momentum, but at the same time I think the music benefits from a little deliberation, and Solti’s experience trumps Jurowski’s youthful (judging by the liner photos, at least) energy. Beyond tempos, Chicago’s Emperor, especially in the first movement, sounds more ceremonial, weighty, more, well… imperial. Normally, I shy away from such pompous renditions, preferring more casual approaches, but here I think it works to the music’s advantage. So on the orchestral front, the Ashkenazy disc wins.

The soloists are another matter. Grimaud is more passionate and emotional throughout the concerto, especially on the first and last movements. In the rubato introduction, her rhythm is more free, she almost syncopates her phrases. By comparison, Ashkenazy sounds mechanical and robotic, and continues to sound that way throughout the movement. This is all relative, mind you – Ashkenazy is not bad, he is a virtuoso of the highest caliber, and there is enough emotion in his playing to result in a solid, satisfying interpretation. In a side by side comparison, however, Grimaud, aided no doubt by the de-emphasized orchestra, swept me off my feet with her feeling.

The difference is the least pronounced in the slow movement. Here, the music obscures any variance in interpretation. I don’t normally dwell on slow movements. They can frequently be, not to put too fine a point on it, plain boring. Not so in the Emperor. It is breathtakingly gorgeous music, but even beyond that, every time I hear it, I am struck with just how modern it sounds. It is impossible to believe that it was composed in 1809. Both Grimaud and Ashkenazy, and both orchestras, do it full justice.

If I were to take the relative age of the recordings and the resulting difference in audio quality out of the equation, and assign points in various categories, I would have to call the comparison a tie. Ashkenazy/Chicago win on the orchestral front, but Grimaud edges Ashkenazy out as a soloist, even if by a tiny margin. Fundamentally, though, it doesn’t really matter – both are first-rate recordings, even a demanding listener would be happy with either.

A bit of a personal disclaimer, though I am not sure it has any bearing on anything: decades ago in Moscow, long before I was born, my father, even though he was much younger, knew Ashkenazy’s father personally; they frequently played chess backstage. Ashkenazy’s sister was also a talented pianist and an aspiring soloist in the mid-1960s. When Ashkenazy defected to the UK, however, the Soviet government destroyed her budding career in retaliation.

Gas caps

Ford has reported that it is eliminating the gas cap on all US-market vehicles. It will use a capless self-sealing mechanism instead, eliminating the hassle and potential loss of the cap and providing a better seal of the tank that will result in reduced fumes. Great idea, right? Of course... except in Washington, DC. How much do you want to bet that the DC DMV, which conducts a gas cap test as part of its vehicle inspection (the only test, I should point out, that my car has ever failed when I lived in DC), is not going to have any idea what to do with a capless Ford, will fail every single one, and when told that the car does not come with a gas cap, will yell at the owner to go buy one?

Told you so

A little over a month ago, when Russia accused the British Council, a UK cultural and educational organization, of operating illegally in Russia as retaliation for expelling Russian diplomats, I predicted how the dispute would unfold. I am sad to report that I was absolutely correct.