John Williams at Tanglewood

Concert Review by Nathan Henninger

The entire drive we were struck by trees, by the beauty of these forests, by the varying colors and shapes of trees, by their seemingly undisturbed peace for centuries...if all America lived like this, the vigorous, patriotic displaying of flags in 150-yr-old houses would seem natural -- who wouldn't be proud to live like that? If you love Aaaron Copland, and you haven't trekked through the Berkshires on a warm, gentle summer evening -- you must, must, must!

Tanglewood is a national treasure and, for those who don't know it, a very important place in the history of American Music.

For us Williams fans, the Koussevitsky Music shed and its sprawling lawn and trees overlooking the river and, somehow, an eternity of time...is somehow familiar. Erected in 1938 (?) after storms had ruined concerts during the previous concert season, the layout and design of the shed would be a great model for Spileberg's plateau for the visitor sequence at the end of CE3K.

Let me explain: The "shed" (think mother ship) fans out, with its open air and jutting overhang, and the people gather under and around it to hear the music coming from its source, while families lie under the stars...lawn seating is never restricted and, by definition, a concert can never be sold out. The shed actually resembles in size and shape a distant precursor to the design of the spaceship hovering over the earth as it "sings" to us gathered around it in wonderment and awe.

Of course, the designs are not related except by coincidence, and neither Williams nor Spielberg had anything to do with Tanglewood in the time of their careers making CE3K. However, there is an eerie sense of "appropriateness" as one walks the grounds. In any event, the beauty and grace of such a place cannot be underestimated -- the treasures can be amplified by visiting the visitor center, the former home of the Tappan family, that overlooks the river and is tucked away on the lawn, surrounded by trees. This house was built in 1850 and was donated in the '30s to the BSO to be their summer home and to bring concerts to the Berkshires (eventually a music center arose -- where Copland played an integral part in educating new generations of composers there). Nathaniel Hawthorne stayed there in a "little red house" during 1851, that one can still see while walking the grounds.

On the walls of the Visitor Center, one can read the great writings of maestro Koussevitsky, landed Russian conductor of the BSO for 25 years and founder of Tanglewood, the champion and promoter of early Copland in the '20s, the one who truly, truly knew how to write about music -- his vision of music, of creative arts was as important as it was eloquent. This man's writings are worthy of attention as one gets the sense from visiting Tanglewood that his and Copland's efforts and vision brought many together in a "certain spirit" and many, many fruitful things arose...indeed, our sense of American music and the 20th century American musical "voice" was born as it was in the happenings surrounding Tanglewood and the people brought together at this time, including Leonard Bernstein, Piston and others.

To put it crassly, think Field of Dreams and Costner's "If you build it they will come"-craziness to erect a diamond in his cornfield -- this is the magic of Tanglewood. A great, beautiful man-made cavern lies on the Tappan estate where the many gather with candles and blankets and wine to listen to world-class artists open their hearts before nature and the stars. Musicians make it their home to develop their craft over the summer.

The concert itself was great. I sat very close to the stage, under the shed, so that I could see Williams closely. He does not receive the same reception here he does at the Hollywood Bowl, where he is mobbed and not allowed to leave without multiple encores and extra talk with the audience.

Here, Williams was just a participant. It was fun to see him "cut down to size" by the immensity of American musical history at Tanglewood...it made me feel he still has things to aspire to and improve upon (as we know in Hollywood, this is not the case, and Williams tends to be "everything" in the world of film music).

Williams was full of energy and extremely focused. I've seen him conduct 4 times now, and this was the best I'd ever seen him. The Essay for Strings is excellent! It is far more gratifying in person than the old recording we hear online. While melodically unsatisfying (don't look for any catchy themes we may want to hum afterwards), we see sheer mastery of atmosphere and how to control a development of energy and force in music...at one point, the orchestra felt like a boiling pot of water. Those who love Williams work in the '70s will notice certain ways he uses the strings that seemed much more customary then than now.

Prokofiev's 2nd violin concerto was excellent, introducing Gil Shaham, who Williams has performed with at Tanglewood over the past four summers. Mr. Shaham is a great performer, and the program notes made mention of his great skill in lyrical phrasing. He is certainly very popular at Tanglewood and 4 times as many waited for his autograph than Williams's, but more on that at the end.

At intermission, I rushed to the main gate to buy a souvenir and I ended up getting a beautiful hand-painted card of the Tappan house overlooking the river. I got back just as the orchestra was tuning again for the second half.

Tree Song is extra-inspiring if one reads Williams comments on how it came to be, his walks in the Boston Public Space, Dr. Hu the botanist, etc. etc. This adds as a mental companion to sort through the kaleidoscopic sounds to follow.

Personally, I loved it.

There are some remarkable "turn on a dime" phrases and surprises...there is a great "fate" motive in the harps and percussion at the beginning that is used throughout to great effect. What can I say, this is a side of Williams that has all the charcteristics of Williams diversified style but still seems unlike his other music. I liked his writing for the mallet percussion in particular. At one point the orchestra closes a loud, dissonant chord and only the "aftersound" of a chiming bell remains to resolve it, because it is on the resolving pitch. Williams made many surprises here, and it has much more of the melodic attractiveness one hopes to hear if one loves his film music. My only gripe is some "not quite-effective" references to and "wholesale passage cutting" from the Violin Concerto, as if he knew while writing (he just finished it recently, according to the notes) that it is going on a DG album with Gil Shaham also playing his violin concerto. Williams struck me at times, as a bit "opportunistic" in that sense and, in general, a bit commercial...as if he has a mind's eye to his legacy and a superficial sense of "genius." He is one, so why does he make such cheesy, insecure moves sometimes, I wonder. He is a master of craft and unbelievably inventive...yet I sometimes don't like his judgement musically, as if he cannot be as profound as his talent implies...he lets beautiful things "lie on the floor" so to speak sometimes...Hollywood's influence?

The final piece, Thaikovsky's "Francesca da Remini," allowed Williams to "let it all hang out" and I loved seeing his energy there. He really showed dedication to that piece that did not come out in the Prokofiev.

All in all, the concert was great, but I was surprised that the main attraction was the find of Tanglewood itself...the writings of Koussevitsky on the old walls, the echoes of history in the night air (the inside of the shed reminds one of the 1940s, except for the modernized stage itself, and one remembers that before movies, there was the real thing and it WAS incredible...as the brutality of Nazism rose in Europe, the efforts of Koussevitsky and the BSO were happening here around the same time -- music was made to help raise money for the allies losing their lives abroad).

As Williams finished, the audience did not linger. Many left right away for the exits and the clapping finally stopped before he had completely left the stage on his fianl bow -- Tanglewood is not Hollywood, there were no encores or episodes of E.T., and I was somehow grateful for Williams...even the great ones need to be reminded of what came before them and how they "fit in" to a greater pantheon, of having something left within to reach for. I hope he does.

After the concert, my girlfriend and I saw Williams from the stage in his room. He had an old-fashioned desk in his changing room. We stood in a line to meet him and, as I tried to decide what for him to sign, I opened the card I had bought and saw that the inside had an ink drawing of three trees, one more prominent and filling up the page, in the foreground, in front of the old Koussevitsky shed. This was it, I thought.

I was ushered into the backstage area with some others waiting to get Williams's signature. He was there in a blue suit, signing autographs, while a Japanese man in a beret would snap photos for people who wanted to get their pictures done with him. He is very soft-spoken and "dreamy" in the way he speaks, sort of "oooh' and "ahh" in his words...hard to explain. He is completely wizened up front and, at once, looks much older and much younger than he does from far away. Think of a cross between an old golf player and Santa Claus...he reminded me of my great uncle Jerry who died years ago. Right before I got to the front, an Indian man gripped my arm and the guy behind me, and told us that it was late, that we needed to be quick.

He asked me my name, if it was common spelling and then went "Ooohh, trees" as he examined the drawing inside the hand-painted card I had bought. I told him his music meant a lot to me, and he asked me if I wanted it on the drawing or along the outside. I nodded and he started along the edges, just going into the drawing slightly without covering it. I said the evening and music was very elegant and he paused as if wanting to know what I wanted him to write. I said "Oh, I don't know, something like' and I muttered something but he was already writing his trademark stamp -- "All Best, John Williams." As I saw him do this, I cleared my throat and told him thank you for everything and wished him all the best in everything he does. I love what this man has done!!

I left, met my girlfriend who was waiting outside, and walked back to the parking area. Still reeling from the fact that Williams is totally different in person from the person his music means to me after 23 years of hearing it. The card was beautiful, and a perfect momento of the day, of the premiere, of the beautiful forests and thoughts we had past, and my first discovery of America's musical-magic place.

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