2021

Article by Dave Read

The BSO program for July 11, 2021 included a concerto by Sibelius, a symphony by Dvorak, both natives of the 19th century, that were preceded by something composed by John Carlos, who was born during the Reagan administration.

Where else in the entertainment-scape can we find such fare, can we witness the work of a living artist yet wrestling with the gods of his genre? The genesis of Mr. Carlos’ work arises in an encounter with Beethoven’s notebook of 1815, wherein he read this:

“Iliad, The Twenty-second book.
But fate now conquers; I am hers; and yet not she shall share
In my renown; that life is left to every noble spirit
And that some great deed shall beget that all lives shall inherit.”

Carlos writes this in today’s program notes:

“We know that Beethoven strived to overcome many obstacles in his life and documented his aspirations to prevail, despite his ailments. Whatever the specific reason for including this particularly profound passage from the Iliad, in the end, it seems that Beethoven relinquished to fate. Fate now conquers.”

The performance was beautiful, and the composer was called to the podium where we hope he heard Beethoven’s own acclaim amid the audience’s hearty applause as it filled the Koussevitsky Music Shed.

Baiba Skride’s performance of the Sibelius violin concerto in D minor, with the Boston Symphony Orchestra, and the BSO’s rendition of the Dvorak Symphony No. 6 in D, under the sure hand of Andris Nelsons, combined to make for a splendid afternoon of musical entertainment, on a day such as one wishes were the norm rather than the exception, this rainy summer.

Up until the pandemic, Tanglewood patrons were accustomed to the indulgence of James Taylor songs on the Fourth of July. They expected a return to normalcy until the host communities set the attendance limit at 9,000, which caused Taylor to relinquish the cherished date to the plutocrat Michael Bloomberg.

Bloomberg is widely reviled in Massachusetts for being the man who spent $50 million in an attempt to install Scott Brown in the U.S. Senate seat held by Elizabeth Warren. Who knows how much he pays the BSO for use of the Boston Pops to market his view of an America segregated into a military class, an entertainer/performer class, and the hoi polloi?

Whatever the amount, it appears to be enough to let him overrule the BSO’s own pandemic protocols:

In support of regulations set by the Tri-Town Health Department and the Lenox and Stockbridge health boards, Tanglewood will limit attendance capacity to 9,000—50% of its usual capacity of 18,000; this represents a significant increase over the previously announced attendance cap of 25%.

Concert programs will not exceed 80 minutes and will be presented without intermission.

What took place July 4th at Tanglewood was an offensive 180 minute TV show. They got little right and screwed up totally by positioning 3 howitzers right next to the Shed, where the green benches used to be, for the finale of the 1812 Overture.

We’ve witnessed that piece at Tanglewood for decades, always with the artillery properly located on the Stockbridge Bowl side of the sloping lawn, and always to great effect. Tonight, instead of being an acoustic appendage to a musical score, it was an assault on the senses, utterly devoid of artistic merit.

It has been said that the end of all art is peace; neither peace nor art was in evidence tonight.

There was one spot on the program where this orgy of diversity-pandering could be redeemed. While the Boston Pops played in the background, a series of performers walked to center stage to proclaim quotations from the work of notable Americans of African descent, finishing each with the author’s name and the date of the quotation.

How did they omit this: “I can’t breathe, George Floyd, 2020?”