The CFAI (Chartered Financial Analyst Institute) released its results for the CFA Level I June exam this morning. I was quite nervous the whole night, as I woke up several times and even had a dream (nightmare?) about getting the results.
At 9 AM EST, I wasn't able to actually access the web site because there was simply too much traffic. I was finally able to get in at 9:16, although it was still slow. The first thing you see is the pass rate for Level I as a whole, which was 46% this year. That is higher than the rate the past few years, which hovered around 35-40%. This year the CFA Institute threw in a monkey wrench by switching the multiple choice format to include just 3 answer choices instead of the usual 4. They are notoriously secretive about what constitutes a passing score, although the general consensus is 70%+ overall will result in a pass.
They also have a quirky way of delivering the results, as instead of telling you what your score was, they break up your results by question category and by a score quadrant (>70%, 51-70%, and <=50%). I passed, and it seems I may have even overstudied, as shown below.
I'm not sure if I'll take Level II next June yet. It truly was a lot of work studying for Level I, but I'm glad I did it because it solidified some of the concepts I'm learning in b-school. For now though, I'm thinking cigars are in order for tonight.
July 28, 2009
July 21, 2009
Mahler 9 at Ravinia
It is terrifying, and paralyzing, as the strands of sound disintegrate ... in ceasing, we lose it all. But in letting go, we have gained everything.
- Leonard Bernstein
It is music coming from another world, it is coming from eternity.
- Herbert von Karajan
I love the fact that I was able to find two quotes from diametrically opposite musicians, both of whom express the essence of Mahler’s Ninth better than I could. The truth is there is no shortage of great Mahler 9 quotes; hell, Lewis Thomas even wrote an essay describing his feelings for Mahler 9 and how they were irrevocably changed by his views on the Cold War.
After seeing Beethoven 9 on Saturday, I moved (upgraded?) to Mahler 9 on Sunday. I was back in the pavilion, in a nice seat toward the back but right in the middle so I could basically see everything. On a miserably cold Chicago summer day, Mahler 9 brought clarity and perhaps even hope to the viewers.
Mahler wrote his Symphony No. 9 directly after the Das Lied von der Erde, which the CSO played the previous weekend. In Das Lied, the text speaks of returning to the planet upon death and consequently rebirthing every spring. In Das Lied, Mahler is merely exploring his mortality; in the Ninth, he sees it eye to eye.
There is no doubt that Mahler intended for this symphony to be, if not his farewell symphony, then at least his symphony about Death. This analysis was already done in great detail by the great Mahler biographer Henry-Louis de La Grange (incidentally, that is a great place to read up on analysis of all of Mahler’s works).
I will stick with what stood out to me. The first movement was well-played and well-paced. Conlon shaped the climaxes expertly, as each one showed something slightly different. The second movement was good, with the bassoons playing their solo theme with great precision and quality of sound.
The third movement is like a virtuoso piece for orchestra. It’s fast, chromatic, loud, and strident. The CSO played fantastically and were completely into it. They took a slightly faster tempo than convention, and I loved the result. I could see the entire orchestra moving as one in the few places when all the parts would converge into a unison line for a few seconds before diverging again. This was exciting music played by the world’s best who were actually trying to play their best.
Because they had set off the third on such a frenetic, driving pace, there was a lot more contrast when they finally hit the little patch near the end of the movement in which the theme for the fourth is first introduced. This was amazingly effective – the cry of this melody sung out compared to the shouts preceding it.
To which we reach the fourth movement. Let me just state that for me probably nothing will ever top the two Bernstein recordings of Mahler 9 when he was at the height of his powers (that is, he had reached his musical maturity and hadn’t yet come to his musical senility) – with the Boston Symphony Orchestra at Tanglewood and with the Berlin Philharmonic, both live performances in 1979, recorded months apart. Bernstein is the perfect representative for the fourth movement; he possesses the emotional capacity to wring out every last bit of heart-rending thought from the piece, and he also possesses the musical intelligence to shape the climaxes so they build on each other.
I love the fourth movement. Mahler basically sings at the top of his lungs for the entirety, the intensity never waning until the end. Throughout this outpouring of singing, the music slowly builds, like a wave gathering strength, until it finally reaches the second and final major climax.
The climaxes to me are the points in the movement when the strings are suspended in air with their held notes, just waiting to come down to the resolution (this also happens right at the beginning of the movement). Conductors can and do milk these climaxes, forcing their audience to wait for the final resolution. However, it’s absolutely the sign of an orchestra that is in sync to be able to do that. It requires professionals that are able to react to the slightest hint from the conductor of a movement in notes. Bernstein was the master of this. Conlon actually did quite well.
The passage described above occurs three times, once in the beginning, then the two major climaxes later on. Conlon held out more the further he got into the piece. In the beginning, he did the passage nearly in time. By the end, the entire hall was waiting to see Conlon move. I absolutely loved it, and the final climax was exactly what I believe Mahler intended it to be – all the energy is spent, all the emotion has escaped, and now one can accept Death. After the weight of the final climax from the CSO, I was able to accept the final few minutes of the death, as the strings and winds slowly brought the piece to an end.
My praise for Conlon in this performance has thus far been effusively positive, but I’d be remiss not to mention what I perceive to be his biggest weakness. He simply does not excite me as a conductor. He strikes me as a very mechanical and exacting professional, although I have no evidence of that. He obviously loves Mahler’s music very much; I just wish he would open up and really live in the moment – I think the CSO would respond well to it.
Contrast Conlon with Bernstein (I know, it’s like comparing a Hyundai to a Mercedes, but still). In the aforementioned Bernstein-BPO performance, Bernstein gets so worked up when the buildup to the second climax begins that he actually falls off the podium.* Conlon merely started waving his arms a little faster. I just want to see him move and respond a little bit – from my viewpoint, the CSO gave him so much, and he didn’t give back.
* I want to explore this recording in much greater detail later on, but for now, I want to mention that it definitely sounds to me like he falls or at least trips up somehow. I sometimes can even make out him saying something like “I’m alright” after the tumble.
Robert Chen, Charlie Pikler (especially), and the horns section were amazing in solos. I’ve been going to Chicago Symphony Orchestra concerts for the past 4 years, and I’m still routinely awed by the power and significance of the horn sound, and in general the brass sound. Also, please keep in mind that the CSO had just finished Beethoven 9 the previous night, less than 24 hours ago (!). That they were able to come back from that quick turn and play a more difficult piece at an even higher level makes it easy for me to say that the CSO is the best in the world (of course, I haven’t seen anyone in Europe live in concert yet, so my opinion is crap).
I felt a longer silence than usual between the conclusion of the piece and the start of the applause (avec standing ovation). I think we all needed to assess what was just witnessed – I saw it as one man’s terrifying vision of death turned tranquil and just. Mahler’s Ninth shows us we should not be scared of Death; instead it is the right and inevitable result at the end of a long and fulfilling journey.
- Leonard Bernstein
It is music coming from another world, it is coming from eternity.
- Herbert von Karajan
I love the fact that I was able to find two quotes from diametrically opposite musicians, both of whom express the essence of Mahler’s Ninth better than I could. The truth is there is no shortage of great Mahler 9 quotes; hell, Lewis Thomas even wrote an essay describing his feelings for Mahler 9 and how they were irrevocably changed by his views on the Cold War.
After seeing Beethoven 9 on Saturday, I moved (upgraded?) to Mahler 9 on Sunday. I was back in the pavilion, in a nice seat toward the back but right in the middle so I could basically see everything. On a miserably cold Chicago summer day, Mahler 9 brought clarity and perhaps even hope to the viewers.
Mahler wrote his Symphony No. 9 directly after the Das Lied von der Erde, which the CSO played the previous weekend. In Das Lied, the text speaks of returning to the planet upon death and consequently rebirthing every spring. In Das Lied, Mahler is merely exploring his mortality; in the Ninth, he sees it eye to eye.
There is no doubt that Mahler intended for this symphony to be, if not his farewell symphony, then at least his symphony about Death. This analysis was already done in great detail by the great Mahler biographer Henry-Louis de La Grange (incidentally, that is a great place to read up on analysis of all of Mahler’s works).
I will stick with what stood out to me. The first movement was well-played and well-paced. Conlon shaped the climaxes expertly, as each one showed something slightly different. The second movement was good, with the bassoons playing their solo theme with great precision and quality of sound.
The third movement is like a virtuoso piece for orchestra. It’s fast, chromatic, loud, and strident. The CSO played fantastically and were completely into it. They took a slightly faster tempo than convention, and I loved the result. I could see the entire orchestra moving as one in the few places when all the parts would converge into a unison line for a few seconds before diverging again. This was exciting music played by the world’s best who were actually trying to play their best.
Because they had set off the third on such a frenetic, driving pace, there was a lot more contrast when they finally hit the little patch near the end of the movement in which the theme for the fourth is first introduced. This was amazingly effective – the cry of this melody sung out compared to the shouts preceding it.
To which we reach the fourth movement. Let me just state that for me probably nothing will ever top the two Bernstein recordings of Mahler 9 when he was at the height of his powers (that is, he had reached his musical maturity and hadn’t yet come to his musical senility) – with the Boston Symphony Orchestra at Tanglewood and with the Berlin Philharmonic, both live performances in 1979, recorded months apart. Bernstein is the perfect representative for the fourth movement; he possesses the emotional capacity to wring out every last bit of heart-rending thought from the piece, and he also possesses the musical intelligence to shape the climaxes so they build on each other.
I love the fourth movement. Mahler basically sings at the top of his lungs for the entirety, the intensity never waning until the end. Throughout this outpouring of singing, the music slowly builds, like a wave gathering strength, until it finally reaches the second and final major climax.
The climaxes to me are the points in the movement when the strings are suspended in air with their held notes, just waiting to come down to the resolution (this also happens right at the beginning of the movement). Conductors can and do milk these climaxes, forcing their audience to wait for the final resolution. However, it’s absolutely the sign of an orchestra that is in sync to be able to do that. It requires professionals that are able to react to the slightest hint from the conductor of a movement in notes. Bernstein was the master of this. Conlon actually did quite well.
The passage described above occurs three times, once in the beginning, then the two major climaxes later on. Conlon held out more the further he got into the piece. In the beginning, he did the passage nearly in time. By the end, the entire hall was waiting to see Conlon move. I absolutely loved it, and the final climax was exactly what I believe Mahler intended it to be – all the energy is spent, all the emotion has escaped, and now one can accept Death. After the weight of the final climax from the CSO, I was able to accept the final few minutes of the death, as the strings and winds slowly brought the piece to an end.
My praise for Conlon in this performance has thus far been effusively positive, but I’d be remiss not to mention what I perceive to be his biggest weakness. He simply does not excite me as a conductor. He strikes me as a very mechanical and exacting professional, although I have no evidence of that. He obviously loves Mahler’s music very much; I just wish he would open up and really live in the moment – I think the CSO would respond well to it.
Contrast Conlon with Bernstein (I know, it’s like comparing a Hyundai to a Mercedes, but still). In the aforementioned Bernstein-BPO performance, Bernstein gets so worked up when the buildup to the second climax begins that he actually falls off the podium.* Conlon merely started waving his arms a little faster. I just want to see him move and respond a little bit – from my viewpoint, the CSO gave him so much, and he didn’t give back.
* I want to explore this recording in much greater detail later on, but for now, I want to mention that it definitely sounds to me like he falls or at least trips up somehow. I sometimes can even make out him saying something like “I’m alright” after the tumble.
Robert Chen, Charlie Pikler (especially), and the horns section were amazing in solos. I’ve been going to Chicago Symphony Orchestra concerts for the past 4 years, and I’m still routinely awed by the power and significance of the horn sound, and in general the brass sound. Also, please keep in mind that the CSO had just finished Beethoven 9 the previous night, less than 24 hours ago (!). That they were able to come back from that quick turn and play a more difficult piece at an even higher level makes it easy for me to say that the CSO is the best in the world (of course, I haven’t seen anyone in Europe live in concert yet, so my opinion is crap).
I felt a longer silence than usual between the conclusion of the piece and the start of the applause (avec standing ovation). I think we all needed to assess what was just witnessed – I saw it as one man’s terrifying vision of death turned tranquil and just. Mahler’s Ninth shows us we should not be scared of Death; instead it is the right and inevitable result at the end of a long and fulfilling journey.
Labels:
Chicago Symphony Orchestra,
Classical Music,
Concerts,
Mahler,
Ravinia
July 20, 2009
Beethoven 9 at Ravinia
Saw the CSO perform Beethoven's ninth last weekend. This was basically the first time for me to see it live. I had seen the Duluth Superior Symphony Orchestra do this piece a long time ago (maybe when I was 11 years old, before I had reached any kind of musical consciousness). This also marked the first time I saw a CSO-Ravinia concert on the lawn because they didn't offer student discounts for this one.
The program started with Copland's Fanfare for the Common Man. This piece is naturally a cinch for the CSO brass, and it was highly enjoyable. Next came Copland's Lincoln Portrait. This is an interesting piece, with a narrator describing Lincoln and some of his speeches. The Chicago Metropolitan Symphony Orchestra did this last year, and our narrator (Dan Laino) did an amazing job, subbing in at the last minute and delivering an emotional performance. Jessye Norman narrated for the CSO; while she ably performed the role of narrator, I found her to be a little dry and detached - along with the CSO. There are some incredible climaxes in this piece, and I feel like the CSO didn't really reach high on them.
My overall impression of the Beethoven was that the performance was very good and met my expectations for how the piece should feel. The first three movements didn't make much of an impression on me, even though they represent great music and I love listening to them. I think this was because we sat on the lawn (albeit extremely close, literally as close as can be to the pavilion). The listening experience is just not as intense on the lawn - people talk out loud, you have less to focus on and more distractions, and we brought food. I was not exactly captivated.
However, a wonderful moment took place in the last movement, which basically redeemed my experience. The concluding movement starts with conflict and remains so for a few minutes. Then, almost magically, when the cellos came in with the famous Ode to Joy melody, the entire place stopped. All the little chatter ceased, and everyone stood still. The cellos only have this line for about 30 seconds, but nobody dared to move for those 30 seconds, instead taking in the absolutely glorious music.
After that, I was obviously hooked. Starting from when the Bass soloist finally comes in, I watched the performance from the back of the pavilion with a pretty good view. There really is nothing quite like watching incredible music with so many people. At the end of the performance, I nearly got clubbed by a couple among people around me, who instantly whipped their arms up to celebrate/applaud.
As for the actual performance, I don't feel like the CSO performed better than usual, or with more excitment/passion. If anything, they seemed a little flat all night. There were many sections in which the strings were not together and nearly fell apart. That was probably just part of the summer orchestral experience. Conlon was his usual self (boring), although he did a great job making sure the choir was in sync with the orchestra, something that doesn't even go right in recordings someimt.
The soloists were decent. My favorite part of the symphony is near the end of the last movement when the soloists last sing as a quartet. This whole section is strange, because the four voices are seemingly all singing their own lines with no real rhyme or reason. This all kind of comes together when the soprano reaches up and hits that high B, and then order is restored again by the orchestra. Done right, this can be incredibly poignant. The soloists didn't really shine here, and unlike in some recordings I've heard, they sounded actually out of sync with each other, instead of just giving the impression that they were out of sync.
Those are just nitpicks. I still need to see this in a proper music hall setting, if only so I can concentrate the whole time and get the full sound experience. However, I wonder if the visceral, emotional feeling would have still been there had I been seated in a chair the whole time instead of rubbing shoulders against complete strangers, all standing behind the pavilion and stretching their necks to get a good look at the stage. I am glad I was able to share my first real Beethoven 9 experience with so many people, as we all collectively celebrated an Ode to Joy.
The program started with Copland's Fanfare for the Common Man. This piece is naturally a cinch for the CSO brass, and it was highly enjoyable. Next came Copland's Lincoln Portrait. This is an interesting piece, with a narrator describing Lincoln and some of his speeches. The Chicago Metropolitan Symphony Orchestra did this last year, and our narrator (Dan Laino) did an amazing job, subbing in at the last minute and delivering an emotional performance. Jessye Norman narrated for the CSO; while she ably performed the role of narrator, I found her to be a little dry and detached - along with the CSO. There are some incredible climaxes in this piece, and I feel like the CSO didn't really reach high on them.
My overall impression of the Beethoven was that the performance was very good and met my expectations for how the piece should feel. The first three movements didn't make much of an impression on me, even though they represent great music and I love listening to them. I think this was because we sat on the lawn (albeit extremely close, literally as close as can be to the pavilion). The listening experience is just not as intense on the lawn - people talk out loud, you have less to focus on and more distractions, and we brought food. I was not exactly captivated.
However, a wonderful moment took place in the last movement, which basically redeemed my experience. The concluding movement starts with conflict and remains so for a few minutes. Then, almost magically, when the cellos came in with the famous Ode to Joy melody, the entire place stopped. All the little chatter ceased, and everyone stood still. The cellos only have this line for about 30 seconds, but nobody dared to move for those 30 seconds, instead taking in the absolutely glorious music.
After that, I was obviously hooked. Starting from when the Bass soloist finally comes in, I watched the performance from the back of the pavilion with a pretty good view. There really is nothing quite like watching incredible music with so many people. At the end of the performance, I nearly got clubbed by a couple among people around me, who instantly whipped their arms up to celebrate/applaud.
As for the actual performance, I don't feel like the CSO performed better than usual, or with more excitment/passion. If anything, they seemed a little flat all night. There were many sections in which the strings were not together and nearly fell apart. That was probably just part of the summer orchestral experience. Conlon was his usual self (boring), although he did a great job making sure the choir was in sync with the orchestra, something that doesn't even go right in recordings someimt.
The soloists were decent. My favorite part of the symphony is near the end of the last movement when the soloists last sing as a quartet. This whole section is strange, because the four voices are seemingly all singing their own lines with no real rhyme or reason. This all kind of comes together when the soprano reaches up and hits that high B, and then order is restored again by the orchestra. Done right, this can be incredibly poignant. The soloists didn't really shine here, and unlike in some recordings I've heard, they sounded actually out of sync with each other, instead of just giving the impression that they were out of sync.
Those are just nitpicks. I still need to see this in a proper music hall setting, if only so I can concentrate the whole time and get the full sound experience. However, I wonder if the visceral, emotional feeling would have still been there had I been seated in a chair the whole time instead of rubbing shoulders against complete strangers, all standing behind the pavilion and stretching their necks to get a good look at the stage. I am glad I was able to share my first real Beethoven 9 experience with so many people, as we all collectively celebrated an Ode to Joy.
July 13, 2009
Deliciously Evil
I love God. He's so deliciously evil.
As I read through this account from The Big Money of the new online auction site Swoopo.com, I couldn't help but be reminded of Stewie's famous words. The ways in which Swoopo does business could be termed ingenius, diabolical, or simply, evil.
First, an overview of how the site works. It is a live auction site, with several items up for bid simultaneously. Users bid in very tiny increments, with the default being $0.12 (some "special" items only require increments of $0.02). If a bid is made in the closing seconds of an auction, then the auction is extended by up to 20 seconds. This leads to low winning prices such as $135.90 for an Acer laptop with MSRP of $1449.99 (this was a $0.02 auction).
So, what's the catch? Well, users have to pay $0.60 for each bid. In fact, for that Acer laptop, users collectively contributed $4077 toward the bidding of the laptop. Don't forget that the ultimate "winner" needs to pay the $135.90 as well.
This site is the ultimate test of a consumer's self-control. The idea is to take all the known vulnerabilities in how people shop and create a sort of game to exploit them, while cashing in during the process.
There is a broad field of study called Behavioral Economics that tries to measure the impact and consequences of these types of vulnerabilities. Basically, classical economic theory assumes all people are rational and that consumers are utility-maximizing (that is, they purchase products for which they receive the most benefit at the lowest prices). This is a very important assumption to make and allows us to study models that demonstrate the core of economic theory (simple supply/demand). Even if everyone doesn't quite maximize his own actions, the thinking was that the collective will of the market will ultimately lead to the right economic allocations. This is the concept behind the free markets.
However, recent scholars have found that there are specific areas where consumers consistently make systematic errors in judgment. In these cases, the collective will is actually leading to less efficient solutions, and oftentimes leaving consumers worse off. Behavioral economics is kind of a hybrid between psychology and economics. It tries to measure how consumers actually behave and what kinds of psychological biases lead them to make inefficient decisions.
Swoopo.com is basically a powerhouse for exploiting these findings in behavioral economics.
The first thing that users see on the Swoopo homepage is the current auction items and their prices. This is the first test in self-control: the prices are so low compared to what we are used to. This triggers the impulse to buy right away even though users might not have an understanding of the system yet.
Users also have to dig to find how the pricing system works. Even when they do find it, it's quite a complicated system, especially since it's hard to track how many times a user has bid on a specific item.
There is demonstrated evidence that consumers make better decisions when the pricing system is simple. This is simple to understand - Swoopo forces users to make split second decisions (hence why the bid is only extended by a few seconds every time), which will eventually lead to some wrong decisions.
Another vulnerability exploited is the self-confidence bias. It is a well-established emprically that approximately 50% of marriages in the US will end in divorce. A survey asked newlyweds two questions: (1) what percentage of marriages end up in divorces? and (2) what probabilty do you give your own marriage for ending in divorce?
The study found that to the first question, newlyweds correctly answered 50%. For the second question, the result was around 10%. People are always going to be confident in their own abilities to impact results, no matter what empirical evidence might say.
This relates to Swoopo in a big way. Let's say you're the smart one in the room, and you only bid on Swoopo items at the very end. If you only bid a few times for a laptop and you ultimately win, you certainly benefit from massive savings. Swoopo even encourages this competitive behavior by self-branding as "Entertainment Shopping". On the home page, we can see "thrill" and "action" just splattered across. The reality, of course, is that no user will win every time or even close to every time.
Swoopo clearly has been impressing the right people, as they receieved initial funding from Wellington Partners in 2006 and another $10M in 2009 from August Capital.
I guess the point of this post is to warn against impulsive shopping. Swoopo created an environment that plays off of some of our biggest vulnerabilities as consumers. The end result of the game is basically gambling, since you never know when someone will finally stop bidding to extend an auction.
Also, please keep in mind that I have no philosophical or moral objections with what Swoopo has created. More than anything, I'm just angry I didn't think of the idea first.
Labels:
Behavioral Economics,
Evil
July 12, 2009
Octet Rehearsal
We rehearsed the Mendelssohn Octet again today. This was our second rehearsal, and the first with our second violist.
The first half we really worked hard on the first movement. I made the mistake of starting off too slow - it only lead to a lack of energy and more slowing down. We actually played technically better at a faster pace; maybe it forced us to concentrate more. We are still having some issues with soloistic playing. Not everyone is taking ownership of their solos when they have them. Hopefully that'll change as we get a better sense of what the piece is about. We also spent the majority of our time working through the development section (and the second theme) up to the big flurry that leads into the recapitulation.
We focused on the second movement for the last half. I was extremely impressed at the amount of progress we made on this in just an hour. There is a pretty nasty section in the middle when the octet is divided into two 4-person groups, and everyone is playing in kind of a round. This was extremely difficult to coordinate until we figured out the pattern (i.e. who played after whom). This was also another case of us playing much better at a faster tempo. Here, it probably just helps us maintain our momentum. We still slow down quite a bit in the two sublime melody sections in which different instruments take turns coming in while the chordal progression changes bit by bit.
I tried to be much more open in my playing today, looking all around. I definitely have a better sense of who plays with me and when now. It's still really hard to figure out who to look at among 7 choices, especially because most of the time it's more than just two people that are playing together. I also finally hit the high E-flat at the end of the first movement.
The first half we really worked hard on the first movement. I made the mistake of starting off too slow - it only lead to a lack of energy and more slowing down. We actually played technically better at a faster pace; maybe it forced us to concentrate more. We are still having some issues with soloistic playing. Not everyone is taking ownership of their solos when they have them. Hopefully that'll change as we get a better sense of what the piece is about. We also spent the majority of our time working through the development section (and the second theme) up to the big flurry that leads into the recapitulation.
We focused on the second movement for the last half. I was extremely impressed at the amount of progress we made on this in just an hour. There is a pretty nasty section in the middle when the octet is divided into two 4-person groups, and everyone is playing in kind of a round. This was extremely difficult to coordinate until we figured out the pattern (i.e. who played after whom). This was also another case of us playing much better at a faster tempo. Here, it probably just helps us maintain our momentum. We still slow down quite a bit in the two sublime melody sections in which different instruments take turns coming in while the chordal progression changes bit by bit.
I tried to be much more open in my playing today, looking all around. I definitely have a better sense of who plays with me and when now. It's still really hard to figure out who to look at among 7 choices, especially because most of the time it's more than just two people that are playing together. I also finally hit the high E-flat at the end of the first movement.
Labels:
Classical Music,
Mendelssohn Octet
July 10, 2009
Mahler's Song of the Earth at Ravinia
One of the saddest things about leaving this world is not hearing Das Lied von der Erde ever again.
- Jascha Horenstein, shortly before his death in 1973.
I attended the Chicago Symphony Orchestra concert at Ravinia tonight, featuring Mahler's Das Lied von der Erde. It's the first time I've heard Das Lied live in concert, and despite the long and rather directionless take by conductor James Conlon during the last movement, I still left inspired.
It was my first Ravinia concert of the year. Let me emphasize that for students, a Ravinia-CSO concert is one of the best values in the Chicago area. For $10, I purchased a pavilion ticket in row H. With this ticket also comes access to the Steans Institute recital before the main concert event. The Steans Institute is a summer program for gifted young musicians to get together to study and perform chamber music. Tonight, I saw wonderfully gifted young musicians play Dvorak's Piano Quartet in E-flat and the sublime Schubert String Quintet in C.
It's always a pleasure listening to these young musicians. They are not the most polished; for example, there are moments when they are unable to blend their sound with the group or are not entirely sure who they should be looking at. However, they are all so technically gifted and exciting in their playing that it's still a fun watch.
The CSO played Mendelssohn's Symphony No. 4 "Italian" in the first half. I hadn't seen the CSO perform in a few months, and I was immediately reminded of their strengths. Despite having ~50 strings on stage, they played more cleanly and more as an ensemble than 5 Steans Institute kids could. I was told once that you can tell an orchestra is really good when the strings all play in the same part of the bow. This is actually a pretty underrated attribute for orchestras. It shows the musicians are disciplined (they are constantly looking to the front desk and mimicing them) and that they have played with each other a lot as a group. The CSO is exquisite in this regard.
Mendelssohn's "Italian" Symphony is one of those pieces that CSO musicians can play in their sleep. This is actually one of the downsides to these summer concerts - sometimes the musicians are on auto-pilot and don't respond to Conlon's conducting. The CSO didn't seem especially interested playing the Mendelssohn. However, that all changed in the second half.
Some quick background on Mahler's Das Lied. It's basically Mahler's ninth symphony, as he wrote it after the eighth. There is speculation that Mahler didn't name it the ninth symphony because of the so-called Curse of the Ninth. It's scored for a very big orchestra with two vocal soloists.
Translated as "The Song of the Earth", Mahler based the work on some ancient Chinese writings. The work is meant to celebrate life on Earth (drinking, love, fun) and death. The last movement is titled "The Farewell" and evokes an acceptance of death. It is the same length (~30 minutes) as the preceding five movements.
Mahler started work on this piece one year after he had received the three "hammer blows" that he had grisly predicted on himself in his tragic sixth symphony. First, he was forced to resign his post as Music Director of the Vienna Court Opera due to anti-semitic pressure against his Jewish upbringing. Next, his eldest daugher Maria died from sickness. Finally, Mahler was diagnosed with a heart defect that the doctor predicted would soon lead to his death.
Forced to face his own mortality, Mahler essentially reacted through his music. In Das Lied, Mahler seems to come to the understanding that in death, people return to the Earth, which in turn is able to renew itself every Spring.
The soloists were Michelle DeYoung and Stuart Skelton. Skelton was quite good, with a booming voice and facial expressions that matched well with the content of his singing. DeYoung shocked me with a strong and operatic sound. I had seen DeYoung perform the role of Brangäne in Wagner's Tristan und Isolde. I couldn't quite get that image out of my head. She is almost the perfect Wagnerian "it ain't over til the fat lady sings" soloist. Her talent seemed incongruous with the nature of Das Lied. Whereas the piece requires the soloist to show subtlety, DeYoung is almost always "on". This was especially apparent in the last movement, as DeYoung had trouble in dying down with the rest of the orchestra.
Conlon did a fine job overall, considering the difficulty. The last movement is essentially a 30 minute meandering cadenza. There is little structure to it, so a conductor needs to be very careful in how he shapes the architecture of the movement. Unfortunately, Conlon doesn't do this well; when the music builds, it seems artificial, as if the musicians are only doing it because it is required of them on the page. There is no expectation of buildup, so when it does happen, it is suprising, almost jarring, which is not the intent of the music. Again, this is a very hard problem to solve - look up Jascha Horenstein's recording to hear it done right.
The CSO played very well and with passion. I was especially impressed by the lead flautist Mathieu Dufour, who played a big role in the last movement of Das Lied. I was somewhat disappointed though that they went with such a huge orchestra for Das Lied - I counted 14 firsts and 12 cellos. Das Lied is really a chamber piece in disguise; even though it requires a large range of instruments, rarely does the whole orchestra play together, and even then a huge sound is not really called for. Schoenberg actually arranged a version of Das Lied for chamber orchestra, which sounds amazing in the hands of Philippe Herreweghe.
Despite all this, I was all goosebumps at the conclusion. Mahler's magical touch in slow movements prevailed, and I have Mahler 9 to look forward to for next weekend.
- Jascha Horenstein, shortly before his death in 1973.
I attended the Chicago Symphony Orchestra concert at Ravinia tonight, featuring Mahler's Das Lied von der Erde. It's the first time I've heard Das Lied live in concert, and despite the long and rather directionless take by conductor James Conlon during the last movement, I still left inspired.
It was my first Ravinia concert of the year. Let me emphasize that for students, a Ravinia-CSO concert is one of the best values in the Chicago area. For $10, I purchased a pavilion ticket in row H. With this ticket also comes access to the Steans Institute recital before the main concert event. The Steans Institute is a summer program for gifted young musicians to get together to study and perform chamber music. Tonight, I saw wonderfully gifted young musicians play Dvorak's Piano Quartet in E-flat and the sublime Schubert String Quintet in C.
It's always a pleasure listening to these young musicians. They are not the most polished; for example, there are moments when they are unable to blend their sound with the group or are not entirely sure who they should be looking at. However, they are all so technically gifted and exciting in their playing that it's still a fun watch.
The CSO played Mendelssohn's Symphony No. 4 "Italian" in the first half. I hadn't seen the CSO perform in a few months, and I was immediately reminded of their strengths. Despite having ~50 strings on stage, they played more cleanly and more as an ensemble than 5 Steans Institute kids could. I was told once that you can tell an orchestra is really good when the strings all play in the same part of the bow. This is actually a pretty underrated attribute for orchestras. It shows the musicians are disciplined (they are constantly looking to the front desk and mimicing them) and that they have played with each other a lot as a group. The CSO is exquisite in this regard.
Mendelssohn's "Italian" Symphony is one of those pieces that CSO musicians can play in their sleep. This is actually one of the downsides to these summer concerts - sometimes the musicians are on auto-pilot and don't respond to Conlon's conducting. The CSO didn't seem especially interested playing the Mendelssohn. However, that all changed in the second half.
Some quick background on Mahler's Das Lied. It's basically Mahler's ninth symphony, as he wrote it after the eighth. There is speculation that Mahler didn't name it the ninth symphony because of the so-called Curse of the Ninth. It's scored for a very big orchestra with two vocal soloists.
Translated as "The Song of the Earth", Mahler based the work on some ancient Chinese writings. The work is meant to celebrate life on Earth (drinking, love, fun) and death. The last movement is titled "The Farewell" and evokes an acceptance of death. It is the same length (~30 minutes) as the preceding five movements.
Mahler started work on this piece one year after he had received the three "hammer blows" that he had grisly predicted on himself in his tragic sixth symphony. First, he was forced to resign his post as Music Director of the Vienna Court Opera due to anti-semitic pressure against his Jewish upbringing. Next, his eldest daugher Maria died from sickness. Finally, Mahler was diagnosed with a heart defect that the doctor predicted would soon lead to his death.
Forced to face his own mortality, Mahler essentially reacted through his music. In Das Lied, Mahler seems to come to the understanding that in death, people return to the Earth, which in turn is able to renew itself every Spring.
The soloists were Michelle DeYoung and Stuart Skelton. Skelton was quite good, with a booming voice and facial expressions that matched well with the content of his singing. DeYoung shocked me with a strong and operatic sound. I had seen DeYoung perform the role of Brangäne in Wagner's Tristan und Isolde. I couldn't quite get that image out of my head. She is almost the perfect Wagnerian "it ain't over til the fat lady sings" soloist. Her talent seemed incongruous with the nature of Das Lied. Whereas the piece requires the soloist to show subtlety, DeYoung is almost always "on". This was especially apparent in the last movement, as DeYoung had trouble in dying down with the rest of the orchestra.
Conlon did a fine job overall, considering the difficulty. The last movement is essentially a 30 minute meandering cadenza. There is little structure to it, so a conductor needs to be very careful in how he shapes the architecture of the movement. Unfortunately, Conlon doesn't do this well; when the music builds, it seems artificial, as if the musicians are only doing it because it is required of them on the page. There is no expectation of buildup, so when it does happen, it is suprising, almost jarring, which is not the intent of the music. Again, this is a very hard problem to solve - look up Jascha Horenstein's recording to hear it done right.
The CSO played very well and with passion. I was especially impressed by the lead flautist Mathieu Dufour, who played a big role in the last movement of Das Lied. I was somewhat disappointed though that they went with such a huge orchestra for Das Lied - I counted 14 firsts and 12 cellos. Das Lied is really a chamber piece in disguise; even though it requires a large range of instruments, rarely does the whole orchestra play together, and even then a huge sound is not really called for. Schoenberg actually arranged a version of Das Lied for chamber orchestra, which sounds amazing in the hands of Philippe Herreweghe.
Despite all this, I was all goosebumps at the conclusion. Mahler's magical touch in slow movements prevailed, and I have Mahler 9 to look forward to for next weekend.
Labels:
Chicago Symphony Orchestra,
Classical Music,
Concerts,
Mahler,
Ravinia
About the Name
There are two reasons behind the naming of this here blog.
First, I simply have heard too much of the word "suboptimal". This owes mainly to the need for a proper business-speak way of saying "bad", "terrible" or "seriously, are you out of your frickin mind"?
The problem is that people are using it out of context. It should be used when you try to convey a trade-off. I think the idea is probably most apropos for algorithms. In simple sorting algorithms, there will be an optimal solution that solves the problem in the fastest time (really the major thing that computer science academics care about). However, implementing that fast algorithm might take up gobs of memory. In that case, it's acceptable to implement a slower, suboptimal algorithm.
In business speak and presentations now, "suboptimal" is often being used to describe a painfully obvious wrong choice. I really want this convention to stop. Don't be nice, call out faulty logic, and just say a choice is wrong instead of dressing it up by calling it suboptimal. So yes, the name is a rather lame attempt to rant about out one of my pet peeves.
As an aside, the only other business speak word I hate worse than "suboptimal" is "synergy". The synergy craze has existed forever, first rising to prominence in the 1960's when everyone wanted to become a conglomerate (forgetting the fact that sometimes there's just not that much synergy between making Beatles albums and making CT scanners). Synergy has also come into play the last decade with the increased activity in M&A and LBO transactions. Even in these cases real synergy was limited and oftentimes just a euphemism (as in "much synergy will be created after we acquire you and terminate 35% of your workforce").
Synergy as a word got so out of control that I actually heard an ad on the radio for an HR company that promised to deliver "synergism" to your company. It seems to me that synergism is either a convoluted way of saying "synergy" or a porno starring Dirk Diggler and Roller Girl. Of course, seeing as to how I'm painfully uncreative, I named my fantasy football team Synergism for two years in a row, leading to 1st and 3rd place finishes. Maybe that HR company was onto something after all...
To take us even further away from the focus of this post, I just wanted to point out that the wiki entry for Business Speak has a See Also section with the entries for Legalese and Bullshit. Good to see we're starting off on such an exciting high point.
But I digress. The other reason for using SupraOptimal is to convey the idea and hope that we are always searching, always looking for better solutions. The word supraoptimal is actually a legit scientific term used to describe greater than optimal conditions. Notice, not better, but greater, in nominal values. So, for example, your harvest for the year may be down because of supraoptimal temperatures during the season.
At this blog, I will be endorsing the idea of SupraOptimal as "better" than optimal. It will be the embodiment of Robert Browning's famous quote: "man's reach should exceed his grasp". Despite my usually sarcastic, smart-ass tendencies, I am unabashedly an optimist at heart. Like Howard Roark, I see the skyscrapers and think about the limitless potential of human achievement. I can only hope that at times this little web space will be SupraOptimal.
First, I simply have heard too much of the word "suboptimal". This owes mainly to the need for a proper business-speak way of saying "bad", "terrible" or "seriously, are you out of your frickin mind"?
The problem is that people are using it out of context. It should be used when you try to convey a trade-off. I think the idea is probably most apropos for algorithms. In simple sorting algorithms, there will be an optimal solution that solves the problem in the fastest time (really the major thing that computer science academics care about). However, implementing that fast algorithm might take up gobs of memory. In that case, it's acceptable to implement a slower, suboptimal algorithm.
In business speak and presentations now, "suboptimal" is often being used to describe a painfully obvious wrong choice. I really want this convention to stop. Don't be nice, call out faulty logic, and just say a choice is wrong instead of dressing it up by calling it suboptimal. So yes, the name is a rather lame attempt to rant about out one of my pet peeves.
As an aside, the only other business speak word I hate worse than "suboptimal" is "synergy". The synergy craze has existed forever, first rising to prominence in the 1960's when everyone wanted to become a conglomerate (forgetting the fact that sometimes there's just not that much synergy between making Beatles albums and making CT scanners). Synergy has also come into play the last decade with the increased activity in M&A and LBO transactions. Even in these cases real synergy was limited and oftentimes just a euphemism (as in "much synergy will be created after we acquire you and terminate 35% of your workforce").
Synergy as a word got so out of control that I actually heard an ad on the radio for an HR company that promised to deliver "synergism" to your company. It seems to me that synergism is either a convoluted way of saying "synergy" or a porno starring Dirk Diggler and Roller Girl. Of course, seeing as to how I'm painfully uncreative, I named my fantasy football team Synergism for two years in a row, leading to 1st and 3rd place finishes. Maybe that HR company was onto something after all...
To take us even further away from the focus of this post, I just wanted to point out that the wiki entry for Business Speak has a See Also section with the entries for Legalese and Bullshit. Good to see we're starting off on such an exciting high point.
But I digress. The other reason for using SupraOptimal is to convey the idea and hope that we are always searching, always looking for better solutions. The word supraoptimal is actually a legit scientific term used to describe greater than optimal conditions. Notice, not better, but greater, in nominal values. So, for example, your harvest for the year may be down because of supraoptimal temperatures during the season.
At this blog, I will be endorsing the idea of SupraOptimal as "better" than optimal. It will be the embodiment of Robert Browning's famous quote: "man's reach should exceed his grasp". Despite my usually sarcastic, smart-ass tendencies, I am unabashedly an optimist at heart. Like Howard Roark, I see the skyscrapers and think about the limitless potential of human achievement. I can only hope that at times this little web space will be SupraOptimal.
Labels:
supraoptimal,
synergy
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