Playing Onstage in Davies Concert Hall

Last week I had the privilege of working with renowned pianist Andras Schiff in a concert in which he played (as both soloist & accompanist) and conducted.  He conducted the Haydn Lord Nelson Mass which uses a string orchestra, trumpets, choir, and soloists.  This is an interesting piece both musically and historically; it was written in celebration of Admiral Nelson’s defeat of Napolean at Waterloo.  In the latter half of the Mass, the trumpets herald the victory as if military buglars were marching into a jubilant city from afar.

It was amazing to work with Schiff on this piece.  Being one of the last of the great Romantics, his interpretation was gentle, allowing for the sweetness of the music to stand out – something which is often overlooked in Haydn.  To have a pianist as a conductor is a special joy for a keyboard player, and the relationship between Schiff and me was no exception.  When he walked onto the stage in the first rehearsal, he immediately came over and introduced himself to me.  It was almost as if he was saying: “You and I: we speak the same language.”

The organ continuo part for this piece is an obligato part which Haydn himself wrote out.  It contains the writing that would normally be for woodwinds, in addition to the organ continuo itself.  Schiff seemed to revel in these moments when my part was a solo, showing me considerable eye contact and always smiling.  At the conclusion of the final performance, he singled me out, walking through the orchestra to shake my hand.  That was truly an honor I’m not likely to ever forget.

The irony, however, was that, of the several hundred people on stage, I was the only one not listed in the program!  The Symphony has received complaints in the past about their practice of not listing me – from patrons and even from music critic, Joshua Kosman.  I seem to be neither fish nor foul; and there isn’t a consistent solution in how to credit me.  I’m not an orchestral “sub” player (all of whom are listed in the last program booklet of the season).  I’m not a soloist, whereby I would gain a credit immediately under the conductor’s name.  I’m not on the regular symphony player list which is in every program booklet.  Oftentimes I’m listed in the italics which stipulate the instrumentation of a given piece, but even that seems to have gone by the wayside while there are some changes in administrative personnel.  As I stated in an email inquiring about this, anonymity can be a very noble thing, unless one is trying to earn a living at one’s craft!

While onstage, I was playing my own portativ organ.  It’s a 3-stop pipe organ which I purchased nearly fifteen years ago, and it lives at Davies Symphony Hall.  They house it for me in exchange for getting to use it for free whenever I’m performing a continuo part there.  There’s a profound difference in working onstage with my portativ, or working offstage with the big organ.  Onstage I can watch the bow of the concertmistress or the first chair cellist; offstage I can’t.  Orchestral players rarely play on the tactus of the conductor’s beat pattern.  The art of playing slightly after the beat is something that can only be mastered while immersed in the sound of the orchestra itself.  Countless subtleties (such as delayed downbeats in slow movements) need to be absorbed if I’m not to stick out as a continuo player.  In honesty, it’s easily half of the joy of performing with the orchestra – finding the groove with them, and being able to make music together within that groove.  So watching the bow movements of the string players helps me feel the moment when their sound will actually begin.

I’m not certain that it’s ever truly possible to “understand” music.  But with each performance I do onstage, I feel that I get a fresh insight into how music moves the soul.