You probably remember an important musicological moment in the 1965 classic A Charlie Brown Christmas. While pianist Schroeder is playing Beethoven’s Für Elise, Lucy interrupts him and the following dialogue takes place:
 
Lucy: "Everyone talks about how great Beethoven was. Beethoven wasn't so great."
Schroeder: "What do you mean, Beethoven wasn't so great?"
Lucy: "He never got his picture on bubble gum cards, did he? Have you ever seen his picture on a bubble gum card? Hmmm? How can you say someone is great who's never had his picture on bubble gum cards?"
 
Schroeder responds with a blank stare and the Peanuts characteristic “Good Grief.”
 
The other thing everybody talks about with Beethoven (although the “everybody” might be a smaller cohort here) is that Beethoven’s metronome was broken. I don’t think Beethoven’s metronome was broken. I’m not sure what Lucy thought about that, and Schroeder never mentioned it.
 
It’s true, occasionally Beethoven gives us a metronome marking that is outrageous, impossible and/or ridiculous, but that doesn’t happen often enough to dismiss all of his metronome markings entirely.
 
A little background info here:  The metronome was new technology in his day, invented in 1815. Beethoven was 45 years old. He was thrilled with this invention because it would mean musicians would know how fast or slow to play his music if he wasn’t around to tell them. Tempo was very important to Beethoven. We know from his correspondence that when learning of someone’s performance of one of his works, his first question would be “how was the tempo?”
 
Not only did the composer incorporate metronome markings in his compositions moving forward after learning of this new device, he even went back and wrote them in his existing works, often with the help of his nephew Karl and perhaps others. As is commonly known, Beethoven was deaf at this point, so he would not be able to hear the clicks of the metronome and accurately translate that into a metronome marking, so he had to enlist the help of a hearing person.
 
This is where some of the explanations of the outlier metronome markings come in. Were those rare instances of clear errors in the markings the result of something essentially lost in translation between the composer and the transcriber?  There is a wealth of literature out there on this topic for anyone interested in a deeper dive.
 
Naturally, this issue presents a conundrum to the thinking musician. How much weight do we give to Beethoven’s printed metronome indications?
 
I sometimes feel as if the very controversy gave carte blanche to some musicians to do whatever they felt like. Considering some of the early recorded performances from the first half of the 20th century, one would think musicians didn’t really care about such trivial matters as the composer’s wishes. I think there was also a trend towards slower is better, as in more profound. Is it almost as if some musicians were asking “how much can we wring out of this passage if we really stretch it out?”
 
This is not to say that these interpretations were wrong. They were just a function of their era and its zeitgeist, and frankly many are masterful in their own ways.
 
My generation of musician and prior, before historical performance practice really started to inform the music world, was saturated in overly-slow Beethoven, and that is a problem that can be hard to shake.
 
It goes something like this, as young musicians (teen and pre-teen) we listened to recordings of our favorite works over and over, and of course Beethoven was in the favorite category for most. Before YouTube and Spotify, when a record cost $5, we didn’t have access to multiple recorded performances, so whatever recording we owned became imprinted on us the way a baby bird imprints the image of its mother. In whatever way that work unfolded on our recording, that was the way the piece was meant to go, end of discussion. Of course, at that point, this musician wasn’t really even looking at the metronome marking or the score, I just loved the music. That can become a very difficult impression to shake as a person transitions from young music enthusiast to someone performing for a living.
 
I’ve always tried to approach every work as though I were doing the world premiere, even, and especially the really famous stuff. I just work with what I have in front of me, the score and existing scholarship that sheds light on the composer’s wishes or expectations.
 
There is a saying among musicians, “tradition is just the last bad performance.” That seems a little extreme to me, but it is good to take traditions with a grain of salt. We know that many composers did not care for some of the performance traditions that developed in their music. They just wanted it played the way they wrote it. That is sometimes easier said than done, as our initial mother imprint can stay with us in a powerful way.
 
The generations who followed mine, have not been so burdened by this first-impression prejudice. The historical performance practice movement encouraged us to re-think and re-consider how works should and could be interpreted based upon concrete evidence. The internet too has changed everything. Young musicians can listen to a nearly unlimited range of performances of most works and lay a broader foundation from which their knowledge, tastes and preferences can develop.
 
In physics, escape velocity is the minimum speed an object must attain to break free of the gravitational pull of another object. These strong first impressions of a work formed in childhood present a powerful interpretive gravitational pull on us as we form our own visions of a work as adults and professional performers. Breaking free of that pull and achieving interpretive escape velocity is a function of conviction, experimentation, confidence and pure repetition. It isn’t just about tempo, but also how a reconsidered tempo relates to other elements like articulation, phrasing, releases, and pacing.
 
For the first time, this week I felt I found my own personal escape velocity on the Beethoven Seventh Symphony. It was worth the effort. It felt to me like a Beethoven 7 for the 21st century, and one that was hopefully close to the composer’s concept from 1812.
 
Musicians needn’t be a slave to the metronome, but it’s good to consult it once in a while. You never know what insights it might provide.
 
Speaking of escape velocity, when Matthew Beck launched into the coda of Kevin Puts’ Marimba Concerto, (a section marked “as fast as possible”) I thought we were all headed for the moon. It was hair-raisingly exciting, bringing that remarkable work to an exhilarating finish. Matt is the LSO’s Principal Percussionist and was the featured soloist this weekend. I’ve always had the greatest respect for him as an artist when he is in the section, and he played beautifully as a soloist as well.
 
We opened the program with Sibelius’ Valse Triste, a work that goes from contemplative, palpable sorrow to unbridled abandon and back again, all in about 7 minutes. It was my first time conducting that work. I don’t know what took me so long. There is nothing else quite like it, even among Sibelius’ own works.
 
Congratulations to all my LSO colleagues on the stage Friday. What joy to embrace that music with you, and thanks for going along with me.
 
NEXT UP
 
Lansing Symphony Orchestra
Jon Nakamatsu, piano
Wharton Center for the Performing Arts
East Lansing, Michigan
Friday May 15, 2026
 
RACHMANINOFF         Variations on a Theme of Paganini
Jared MILLER              WORLD PREMIERE
RESPIGHI                     The Pines of Rome
 
#LansingSymphony #MatthewBeck #KevinPuts #Beethovenmetronome

I had some extraordinary good fortune early in my career. Just by being in the right place at the right time, I was able to do two concerts with the legendary Van Cliburn. For the first concert, I was the Associate Conductor of the Austin Symphony at the time. They were in the middle of a music director search, so the concert came to me. The second opportunity came just a few years later. I was then Music Director of the Baton Rouge Symphony and we hired Van to be part of our Pennington Great Performers Series.
 
Van had been in retirement for many years, so these were rare re-surfacings and unforgettable opportunities for which I will always be grateful. The friendship we developed as a result was a gift as well.
 
I bring up Van because I was thinking about him last night as I was driving home from a concert I did with the wonderful Toledo Symphony in Archbold, Ohio. One of the things Van and I discussed a few times over the years were the concerts he did early on in his career called Community Concerts, and I would not be surprised if Archbold was on that circuit.
 
The Community Concerts series was a visionary initiative designed by the now defunct Columbia Artist Management to bring world-class classical music to small towns throughout North America. They started the series in 1927 with the slogan "A Carnegie Hall in Every Town." CAM required these small towns to form local nonprofit associations and sell enough subscriptions to cover the costs before any performers were booked. It allowed CAM to send world class artists to perform in remote gymnasiums and local theaters that would otherwise never have had the budget to host these great musicians. I have no doubt the revenues were a strong motivator for CAM as well.
 
As you can imagine, the impact of these concerts was transformative, effectively democratizing classical music by bringing the global stage to rural America. This started 100 years ago, so media was just radio and recordings, both of which at that time left much to be desired sonically. Live music was a real treat.
 
For Van, the Community Concerts circuit also was kind of a training ground. He toured constantly doing these concerts in the mid-1950s, honing the artistry that would eventually lead to his historic 1958 victory at the Tchaikovsky Competition in Moscow. The series did wonders for the appreciation of great music, ultimately reaching over 1,200 member cities weaving classical music into the daily lives of people all across the country. It lasted over 75 years. How cool was that?
 
The concert in Archbold Ohio, with the Toledo Symphony was probably a very similar vibe. Archbold is a lovely and vibrant small town, but they don’t have a professional orchestra. They do have a beautiful venue, and an enthusiastic audience, so it was a great pleasure to share an evening of music with them, right in their own back yard. Thank you to the Toledo Symphony for inviting me to be a part of such a wonderful and special event.
 
NEXT UP
 
Lansing Symphony Orchestra
Matthew Beck, Marimba
Wharton Center for the Performing Arts
East Lansing, Michigan
Friday March 27, 7:30 p.m.
 
SIBELIUS          Valse Triste
PUTS                Concerto for Marimba and Orchestra
BEETHOVEN    Symphony No. 7
 
#toledosymphony #archboldohio #CAMI #CommunityConcerts

February 1, 2026
 
In 1944 Dimitri Mitropoulos, Music Director of what was then called the Minneapolis Symphony (now Minnesota Orchestra) commissioned David Diamond to write a joyous work, something to lift spirits in the midst of the horrors of World War II. The result was Mr. Diamond’s Rounds for String Orchestra.
 
I’m always tempted to use an adjective in front of the name of that work, but which adjective is problematic. It’s not really an iconic piece as few people outside of musicians know it (although it has been performed thousands of times, and recorded many as well). It’s not “epic” or “monumental” as it’s only 16-minutes long. “Revolutionary” or “groundbreaking” don’t fit either. “Important” seems unsatisfying.
 
But IMHO, Rounds is the pinnacle of American works for string orchestra of the 20th century. Wait, what about Barber’s Adagio or George Walker’s Lyric for Strings you ask? Well, both of those were originally conceived for string quartet, so a different category. Rounds stands alone.
 
The other thing Rounds is, is very difficult. I’ve done the work a handful of times and my emotional arc of the process goes something like this: “Oh, we are doing a string orchestra concert, we can do the Diamond! Great!!”
 
I sit with that elation from the time the decision is made until the day I start studying it to prepare, at which point I am reminded of the actual depth of the immense challenges of the work. The emotional equation then goes south towards “Why did I choose this, of all the works??”
 
That apprehension lasts well into the rehearsal process. The orchestra at least tries to conceal their contempt at me for choosing the work. They recognize it’s greatness, but the added workload is significant. We get to the dress rehearsal, and things start really happening, then the concert. The orchestra knocks it out of the park. The audience responds with great enthusiasm. The elation returns.
 
The Diamond was one of several works of the 20th and 21st centuries on yesterday’s Winterlude, an annual concert the LSO does in partnership with the St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in downtown Lansing. We also had an 18th-century work on the program, Vivaldi’s Winter from The Four Seasons. It may have been the oldest, but it remains, in many ways, the most avant- garde work on the program.
 
LSO Principal Second Violin, Florina Petrescu was wonderful as the soloist in Vivaldi. We also did Giazotto’s Adagio in G minor for organ and strings (after Albinoni) with a beautiful performance from Leonid Tsoy on the organ. Clarice Assad’s flavorful and slightly spicy Impressions: Suite for String Orchestra and Gustav Holst’s St. Paul’s Suite rounded out the program. It was a nice way to start the month of February.
 
It was also wonderful to see a near capacity audience for this concert, especially after yet another how-to-save-classical-music article appeared in the NY Times recently with the usual range of responses. That topic has been in the air since the 1960’s and classical music is still here. We’re not going anywhere and we don’t need saving. We do still need continued support, just as communities still need us to enhance quality of life. It’s a vital symbiosis.
 
#StPaulsLutheranLansing #FlorinaPetrescu #ClariceAssad #LeonidTsoy #LansingSymphony
 
NEXT UP
 
Toledo Symphony Orchestra
March 12, 2026
Founders Hall
Archibold, Ohio
 
7:30 p.m.
 
Music of Flagello, Rossini, Copland, Faure and Grieg

I am thrilled to say that, as of today, the Lansing Symphony Orchestra has released a recording of David Biedenbender's Trumpet Concerto "River of Time" with the LSO and our Principal Trumpet Neil Mueller. This is a work we commissioned and premiered. It is an extraordinary addition to the trumpet concerto repertoire. 
The recording is available from Blue Griffin and all the common streaming services. 
Here's a link to Blue Griffin:

#davidbiedenbender #neilmueller #riveroftime #lansingsymphony #trumpetconcerto

There is a programmatic parallel between Verdi’s Nabucco Overture and Jared Miller’s Piano Concerto, Shattered Night, the two works that made up the first half of our Lansing Symphony concert Friday. Nabucco tells a story from ca. 586 BCE of Nebuchadnezzar’s destruction of Solomon’s temple as well as Hebrew homes and businesses in Jerusalem. Jared’s work is his response to the tragedy of Kristallnacht, (Night of Broken Glass), when thousands of Jewish homes, places of worship and businesses were ransacked in 1938.
 
It is with that description that the similarities end. The composers were writing nearly two centuries apart, so naturally in completely different musical languages. The two works could not sound more different, but the side-by-side comparison is intriguing.
 
Before going any further, I have to say that Jared’s work is among the most heartfelt, poignant and moving works written in this century that I have encountered. In his description of the work, he tells us that the music is not meant as a depiction of the events of Kristallnacht, but more his emotional reaction, as a Jewish person who lost most of his mother's family in the Holocaust, to those happenings over 80 years ago, a time that witnessed an unimaginable breakdown of civility, decency and humanity.
 
As is often the case with exceptionally powerful works, it is a journey. In this work, we move in and out of music of unrest, turmoil and violence, toward music of peace, dreamlike states and even tranquility. The aural images of shattered glass are present in much of the work in myriad forms, from the cold, violent slashes of the opening percussion gestures to the prominent Mark Tree passages reminiscent of shards of glass falling in slow motion, as if in a dream. (The Mark Tree is a percussion instrument you’ve heard many times in pop and movie music. It is a set of small, graduated metal tubes that hang from a beam. The musician’s finger runs along the row, creating a gentle cascade of tiny chime sounds).
 
Pianist Han Chen was the perfect partner in this work. He brought a full range of fragility, delicacy, power, and most importantly, pacing. He knew how and when to maintain a surreal, dreamlike atmosphere, resisting the urge to flow forward, and when to let loose with unbridled momentum. He was stunning.
 
So how does a composer bring a work on this subject to a close? An important feature of the work is that musically it is based on quotations from a popular melodic setting of the Hebrew prayer Sh’ma Yisrael. The quotations remain clear but are transformed over the course of the work as if representing a single point of view that changes with each given scene. In the final scene, after the most shattering climax of the entire work, the Sh’ma Yisrael appears again in the cellos, rising from the rubble in a setting of looped reverberation created by dividing the cello section into 7 individual parts, each echoing the main melody. The effect is like musical slow motion, time suspended. With the next phrase, violas are added, also in divided slo-mo, then the second violins, then the firsts, all divided. Each player in the orchestra is a soloist on their own line, tracing the melody, but lagging behind, following the leader as if a procession of souls, the destination being a climax that is nothing short of cathartic, transcendent and yes, reaffirming and strong. As the theme fades away to the end of the work, we are left with a scene of beauty and serenity, suggesting the possibility of a future of hope and peace.
 
 
Following the concert and over the last few days, I’ve had several conversations, phone calls, and text messages remarking on the impact of this work. I’m also aware it may not have been to everyone’s taste, and that’s ok.  Shattered Night is a highly emotionally-charged experience.  If a listener was expecting 20 minutes of pure beauty, that’s not what this work is. Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony was not to everyone’s taste in its day either. That’s why we play music of our time, so that it can become the music of the future, and as such, timeless. The payoff is worth the investment.
 
In the days leading up to the concert, I imagined today’s post would be about Brahms. We played his First Symphony, the greatest first symphony ever written by the GOAT of composers, but after experiencing the power and impact of Jared’s work on the audience, our players, and myself, I realized it deserves the focus today. Brahms has had no shortage of good press.
 
February 1, 2026
 Lansing Symphony Orchestra
WINTERLUDE
 St. Paul’s Episcopal Church
Lansing, Michigan
3:00 p.m.
 
David DIAMOND         Rounds for String Orchestra
ALBINONI                    Adagio for Organ and Strings
VIVALDI                       Winter from The Four Seasons
                                                Florina Georgia Petrescu, violin
Clarice ASSAD             Impressions for Chamber Orchestra
HOLST                         St. Paul’s Suite
 
#JaredMiller #HanChenPianist #LansingSymphony

Another Holiday Pops in the books as of yesterday afternoon. It was a wonderful time. We had a terrific audience, the orchestra sounded glorious and our soloist, Ben Gulley brought down the house. Ben is working all over the world these days in major roles and big houses and for good reason. This is a special voice and a wonderful collaborator. It was a beautiful way to wrap up the year.
 
​Happy Holidays everyone!
 
NEXT UP
 
Lansing Symphony Orchestra
Han Cen, piano
The Wharton Center for the Performing Arts
East Lansing, Michigan
Friday January 9, 2026, 7:30 p.m.
 
VERDI              Nabucco Overture
Jared MILLER  Shattered Night (for piano and orchestra)
BRAHMS          Symphony No. 1
 
#lansingsymphony #bengulley #hanchen #jaredmiller

I do love being in the orchestra pit. The added dimensions that opera and ballet bring to the music making create an entirely new level of possibilities and fulfillment. There are, however, extra challenges that go along with it. The complexities of theatrical productions require everyone involved to be at 110% from beginning to end. Maybe I like that part too.
 
I was lucky early in my career to be connected to some people with extraordinary gifts in opera and ballet. The first was David Effron, my conducting teacher at Eastman. He is an immensely gifted opera conductor and, even in discussions of non-operatic repertoire, somehow opera always came up. It changed how I thought about what can and should be done on the podium both on and below the stage.
 
Also early in my career, I was fortunate to come into the orbit of two greats in American ballet performance and teaching, Jean-Pierre Bonnefoux and Patricia McBride. We became colleagues at the Chautauqua Institution and collaborated on many performances over the years. They were no longer dancing but at that point providing artistic direction for their dancers.
 
As I look back at those times, I realize that being immersed for so many years in the dance world with them as guides was profound and enlightening. We never talked about the actual conducting element, but being in dance rehearsals with them year after year taught me not only some technical aspects, but most importantly, those things that are hard to put into words, elusive in description, but concrete and very real…a sense, a feel, a flow, a look, and a connection. As I write this, I’m realizing perhaps the connection was the biggest take away, that connection between the dancer and the orchestra, with the conductor serving as a conduit.
 
This weekend we wrapped up the 2025 Nutcracker with the Flint Symphony, dancers from the Flint Institute of Performing Arts, and guest professional dancers. That event came with an emotional “small world” happening for me. This was the 50th anniversary of FIPA’s production of The Nutcracker and for that, alumni were invited back for the first performance. One of those was the original Artistic Director of Flint’s Nutcracker back in the 1970’s, Gayla Zukevich. I had the pleasure to meet Gayla backstage prior to the first performance. When she learned of my connection to Chautauqua, she told me that Jean-Pierre Bonnefoux had danced with them way back in the day, on that very stage.  
 
We just lost Jean-Pierre in April of this year, so hearing this as I was about to walk into that very pit was especially poignant and moving. It instantly brought up all that I mentioned above and made me realize that, every time I walk into a ballet pit, Jean-Pierre and Patti are with me.
 
Others called him JP, but he was always Jean-Pierre to me…not sure why, maybe I just liked saying it. His passing has been difficult for all of us that were close to him. For me, it has been a slow-burn bereavement after the initial shock. He was a gift to all that had the chance to know him and of course, a gift to the world of dance. You can check out his obituary here: https://www.nytimes.com/2025/04/28/arts/dance/jean-pierre-bonnefoux-dead.html?unlocked_article_code=1.DU8.6ZwV.FqfkcjFeJNAC&smid=url-share
 
I share the obit, not only to focus on his many accomplishments, but also to shine a light on the extraordinary humanity he brought to the world of dance, especially as a teacher. He and Patti transformed the world of ballet teaching in this country.
 
The circle of life continues. Patti still teaches at Chautauqua, and now Sasha Janes, who worked for years under Jean-Pierre and Patti, is the Artistic Director for Dance at CHQ. Sasha brings his own magic to the process, continuing to provide inspiration to us all.
 
The circle continues in Flint as well. Gayla passed the torch on to Karen Mills Jennings who, after several decades, then passed it on to Tara Gragg, the current Artistic Director. Both Karen and Tara began as dancers in the program under their predecessors and thus the traditions are passed through the generations, growing with each year. The production, now 50 years old, is remarkably beautiful. I feel truly fortunate to be a part of it. Kudos to all who had a part in building and carrying on the tradition, and thank you for including me.
 
NEXT UP
 
Lansing Symphony Orchestra
 
Home for the Holidays
Ben Gulley, Tenor
The Wharton Center
Sunday December 21, 3:00 p.m.
 
#FlintSymphony #FlintInstituteofMusic #FIM #FlintInstituteofPerformingArts #FIPA #JeanPierreBonnefoux #PatriciaMcBride #TaraGragg #GaylaZukevich #KarenMillsJennings #DavidEffron #ChautauquaDance #SashaJanes

Those of you who are return visitors to this page may notice I have changed the format at bit. Just FYI, I tend to be a DIY kind of person, always have been. I like that by doing things myself I tend to learn. There is a sense of satisfaction (if things go right), sometimes save money (if things go right), save time (hardly ever).
 
Of course more frequently than I care to admit, it seems I become a DIW person (do it wrong).  The tendency towards DIW increases as I venture into the realm of things about which I don’t have a firm understanding. In this case, posting blogs on a website.
 
I’ve noticed that there is a much better way to post here where you, the reader, can actually reply if you like. Imagine that? How modern!!

So as of today, feel free to share your thoughts and observations. All the previous posts have been re-formatted to allow comments. Thanks again for visiting!