And Now for Something Classically Odd

 

 

 

And Now for Something Classically Odd

By BERNARD HOLLAND

Published: January 4, 2007

 

Going to a P. D. Q. Bach concert is like listening to a Beethoven symphony: You know what’s coming but still like it when it gets there. The tradition (or is it habit?) survives after more than 40 years; so do its ritual formats. Both were greeted at Avery Fisher Hall on Tuesday by a large and unusually smart-mouthed audience. Members of the New York Philharmonic played along mostly with good grace, though some looked to be salvaging what they could of their dignity.

Peter Schickele as conductor, lecturer, comedian (physical and stand-up) and behind-the-scenes composer did his customary show and tell on the fictional Bach progeny of the show’s title. William Walters roamed the stage in his vile sports jacket, insulting latecomers, doing minor carpentry and creating electrical crises. Smiling but a little dazed by it all, Xian Zhang shared the conducting.

The usual odd instruments were wheeled in: a bicycle that whistled as Lloyd Peterson pumped its pedals, a table full of toys managed by Michèle Eaton among others, bagpipes in various states of undress played by Maurice Eisenstadt, and popped balloons as low-rent replacements for the big guns of Tchaikovsky’s “1812” Overture.

Mr. Schickele’s dreadful puns (Brittany Spears as French weaponry) would not long survive outside the pomposities and gloomy rituals of the symphonic stage. Anyone who wonders at operagoers tittering over Wagner’s lamest attempts at humor, might look also at a P. D. Q. Bach event to understand that breaching classical music’s earnest defense of protocol becomes both exciting and guilt-inducing. Mr. Schickele and his crew attack most formalities of stage behavior: entrances and exits, conductor greets concertmaster and the like. Lighting cues are rearranged to create maximum chaos. And along with Mr. Schickele’s skill at manipulating hesitation is his considerable charm. Still vigorous, he looks more than ever like Santa Claus in need of a post-Christmas rest.

The foundations for Mr. Schickele’s success have been pointed out many times. He is a master musician with a thorough grasp of composition. “Fanfare for Fred” points out vacuities of Baroque music that we too often treat with reflexive reverence. The “Pervertimento for Bagpipes, Bicycle and Balloons” begins with a firm understanding of Mozartean style. The Prelude to “Einstein on the Fritz” fails to take Philip Glass’s repetitions too seriously. In the “1712” Overture Mr. Schickele nails Tchaikovsky and Beethoven with remarkable acuity.

On Tuesday there were old gags and new ones. Listeners seemed to like both. A year of white-tie-and-tails and churchlike bowings and scrapings awaits us in 2007, so maybe by 2008 the used-up air of P. D. Q. Bach will once again come at us feeling like a fresh breeze.