Jeff Tyzik, our conductor for the pops programs up in Vail, told the audience the other night that you know you are working with incredible orchestral musicians when they can give a stunning performance of Mahler Symphony No. 6, and then come right back out the next night and do a fantastic concert of unfamiliar and difficult pops charts having had only one rehearsal.
He’s right, and they did.
In the middle of the residency we do four different programs in a row, and those just mentioned are the most difficult. Of course, we had performed the Mahler several times earlier in the season. But it’s never easy and, as you know, is relentless in its 80 minutes without intermission. I took the opportunity to sit in the theater and listen to my colleagues. It was truly an exceptional and moving concert.
Some of the audience members were probably not really up for hearing a work of this magnitude and length. And the house wasn’t terribly full, which means the program likely scared some people off who attend the Bravo! Vail Valley Music Festival to be entertained in a light-hearted way. But the festival didn’t apologize for this programming, which I applaud, and instead took the time to talk about the piece and why it was important to do.
The festival’s founder and Executive Director, John Giovando, spoke about how this music is so very compatible with being out in nature. He also told the story of Mount Mahler in Colorado, the only mountain in the US named after a composer: http://www.pomona.edu/Magazine/pcmsp04/AVfirstperson.shtml. Finally, he told the audience that this was the first time in 24 years that the symphony would be performed. It’s always cool to do the premiere performance of such a major work.
The “hammer blows of fate” in the last movement and the order of the inner movements were also mentioned. There remains some controversy about both issues, and both are always a matter of discussion in musical circles. There isn’t room here to go into the respective stories (a quick Google search will give you the basics), but I can let you know that Maestro van Zweden does two hammer blows instead of three, and always conducts the Scherzo prior to the Andante.
I can also take a few minutes to tell you about how those hammer blows are produced in concert. The sound has to be like nothing else in the orchestra, and it has to be “jump-out-of-your-seat” loud. The Dallas Symphony had an instrument made by a bass player in the Chicago Symphony named Roger Cline. Mr. Cline used speaker technology by suspending and cushioning the strike plate on both sides with foam which helps create additional resonance. The hammer is also custom made, and not your basic drum mallet.
Needless to say, this thing does the trick. Especially when Principal Percussionist Doug Howard goes at it full force. He scared the violin section half to death in rehearsal.
For good measure, here are the traveling cases for the unique instrument and hammer!
There is plenty of other fun stuff in Mahler 6, what with 106 musicians on stage. I liked how the cow bells were set up for rehearsal, complete with the player’s transportation accessories.
Mahler calls for large woodwind and brass sections, as well as celesta, two sets of timpani and four or more harps. We use “only” two, as most orchestras these days do. Costs a lot of money to put this piece on stage, not to mention travel with it. The players were very good-natured about my begging, pleading and cajoling to let me take photos of them at work both in rehearsal and prior to the performance.
The Mahler was really the main event for the orchestra in Vail this year. That’s not to say everything else wasn’t as important; it’s just that when a major work is programmed it can overshadow everything else in the players’ minds. It takes such a high level of preparation, concentration, craftsmanship and musicianship to perform this symphony well that when it’s over there is a collective sigh. And a real sense of accomplishment.
It’s no secret that orchestral musicians as a species are not crazy about pops concerts in general. But we well understand the need for those programs, and we give them our all just the same. Quality of repertoire, artists, music (I mean the actual parts), and conductors make a huge difference in how such a program is perceived by the orchestra. Which is really no different than for any other program.
We were thrilled by the concert Mr. Tyzik put together the night after the Mahler and hope we will be doing this show again back in Dallas. Turning the theater into a musical representation of Harlem’s 1920’s Cotton Club, the brass section sat on one side as the big band, and the strings on the other. Soloists Byron Stripling, trumpeter and vocalist, and Carmen Bradford, vocalist, wowed the capacity crowd both inside and out on the lawn.
Some of our own orchestra members were featured in solos throughout the evening, including Principal Trumpet Ryan Anthony and Principal Trombone John Kitzman. Mr. Tyzik’s point at the beginning of the evening was proved by these players as well as the rest of the orchestra. It’s amazing they can adapt so quickly to the different styles and physical requirements the various programs demand.
One of the highlights of the Cotton Club evening was Mr. Stripling’s tribute to Cab Calloway with his rendition of “Minnie the Moocher.” The audience was captivated, and sang their parts with gusto. It was easy to call up the memory of Cab in his all white suit, hat and walking stick, dancing and singing across the stage. I feel lucky to have worked with both of these gentlemen.
On my drive south through the mountains, my itinerary unfortunately didn’t take me to Mount Mahler. But I did find a couple of other peaks of interest. Colorado’s version of Matterhorn Peak reminded me that the town of Vail was modeled after Zermatt, Switzerland, where the original Matterhorn is.
And then, all of a sudden, there was Minnie Mountain. I’ll take it.
One of the most important times in our Vail residency is when there is…….
A Day Off.
Did you think I was going to say “Rehearsals” or something? Silly you.
Now, I know we are here to work, and to do our work at the highest professional level. This is not a vacation, and no one in the organization sees it as such. All of us take this obligation and opportunity seriously. To well-represent the Dallas Symphony Orchestra whether on stage or off is an honor and we are proud to do it. I love it when someone who hasn’t heard the orchestra in a long time says “Wow, the orchestra sounded really good before but now it sounds phenomenal!” Or, “I think the DSO is highly under-rated; it should be mentioned in the same breath with the top orchestras.” I heard both of these comments in the past week and it was a great feeling. So, work hard we do. When we are in the middle of the performance schedule there is a rehearsal and concert each day of completely different repertoire, and we must transition from classics to pops and back again in a way that looks and sounds effortless. It is a difficult job, and takes a lot of concentration and stamina.
But here we are in the mountains and the cool, dry air — which, after coming from Dallas is a gift for which we are most thankful. This is what registered on the car dashboard as I went through Wichita Falls on my way here last week:
A colleague who had driven up the day before said it was 116 in Childress when she went through. So, you can imagine the glee with which we embrace the change in environment and the fervor with which we plan our precious time off during the residency. We lug the hiking, camping and biking gear; we pore over trail guides and maps weeks in advance; if we are smart, we also get in shape beforehand so we don’t miss a chance to enjoy the surroundings.
When I saw this on the car dash two mornings ago, it made me smile:
We always have at least one day off during the residency, and usually two. The outdoor enthusiasts among us try to hit the ground running, literally, on that first day off so we have been known to push ourselves pretty hard in these mountains. Huffing and puffing in the thin air, and using muscles that haven’t been challenged in a while, we bag the summits, raft the rivers, bike the passes. Conditions right now are making things a little more difficult than usual though.
This past winter and spring, Vail Mountain had a record snowfall of 525 inches, topping the previous 35-year record by some twenty inches. The result has been extremely high and fast creeks due to snow melt runoff. Trails that are open are muddy and slippery at best, or still snow covered (knee-deep) and impassable in places. And some of our favorite trails are closed.
Of course, all that extra snow makes for extremely gorgeous scenery and excellent subject matter for photography, another summer hobby for many in the orchestra. Although the pine bark beetle infestation has destroyed millions of acres of trees throughout the western and northern United States, the aspen trees and other vegetation seem to have benefited from the easier access to sunlight and additional moisture.
As with many music festivals, the location is a draw not only for the tourists and locals, but also for the musicians. It’s impossible not to be inspired by the surroundings. Music and mountains are an unbeatable combination in my opinion, and can only enhance the experience for performers and audiences. Some of the greatest symphonic music ever written is meant to depict the scenes and forces of nature.
One of the most stunning views up here is looking east from the Gerald R. Ford Ampitheater. When the concerts are over, between 7:30 and 8:00 each evening, the alpenglow over the peaks dares anyone to not stop and stare.
Can you blame us for wanting to get up there when we have the chance? I didn’t think so!
If the late afternoon weather so far up here in Vail is any guide, the DSO’s performances at the Bravo! Vail Valley Music Festival will be full of excitement, drama, and intensity. Our first concert Wednesday evening had all that and more. Music Director Jaap van Zweden was heard afterwards to say “It was one of the best Beethoven 7’s we have ever done!” I have to agree with him on that.
But it wasn’t an ordinary opening night by any means, let alone a normal concert.
The day started off well enough with perfectly fine conditions for a morning rehearsal of Beethoven.
Even Mr. Conductor who guards the front of the theater was happy in the dappled sunlight.
Other than the process of getting situated in the environment, starting to acclimate to the altitude and dry air, dealing with the logistics of instrument and wardrobe cases, and adjusting to a different performance schedule, it was pretty much business as usual for a first day on tour.
After the rehearsal we all went about our afternoon routines with an eye on getting back to the theater during the five o’clock hour rested, refreshed and ready for the concert at 6 p.m. It’s actually pretty tough to keep energy and focus on this schedule, especially early in our time up here. I’m always impressed with how the players manage in the thin air — especially the ones who have to BREATHE. You wouldn’t know by listening to them that their bodies were all racing to make more blood cells and oxygen.
So, despite a few afternoon clouds, it was a lovely Colorado day. The players gathered on stage to begin the concert with the Star Spangled Banner. Senior Associate Concertmaster Gary Levinson tuned the orchestra, Maestro van Zweden went out and gave the cue for the timpani roll, and the Dallas Symphony Orchestra was off and running in its first performance of the 2011 Vail festival season.
After the banner, the orchestra launched into a vigorous Egmont Overture. They sounded great, and the horn section did indeed rock it; what fantastic music!
Beethoven’s Triple Concerto followed the overture with violinist Ida Kavafian, cellist Peter Wiley, and pianist Anne-Marie McDermott (who is also festival Artistic Director) as soloists. Everyone had a great time and enjoyed the wonderful performance.
At intermission we had a stage move to reset for Beethoven Symphony No. 7. This is one of the busiest times for an orchestra librarian during a concert — moving folders, picking up soloists music, exchanging full scores for the next work, and generally making sure everyone has their parts (and wind clips).
The orchestra then began the second half and I went into the lounge to start writing this blog. All of a sudden, as if on cue with the timpani, I heard a loud sound that was clearly not man-made and looked up at the skylight to see dark sky and trees waving wildly in the wind. Stormy weather had moved in without warning. Oh no, the music!
I raced out to the edge of the stage to see players frantically clipping their music while continuing to play. At this point, there wasn’t real rain, and after a few minutes things died down. The orchestra went on as if nothing had happened, and all seemed under control. It wasn’t long, though, before the storm decided to unleash its full force. Now there was rain coming in from the sides of the stage. Musicians were moving their stands and chairs away from the rain’s range, and some had to leave the stage altogether. At the end of the movement Maestro van Zweden begged the audience’s indulgence and waited a few moments to begin the slow movement. The orchestra did make it through that but just barely — it was now clear the concert couldn’t continue.
Once again the Maestro told the audience the orchestra would have to stop so the instruments were not ruined. But he asked them to wait, and we would try to come back and finish the symphony. That brought loud cheering and applause, and musicians and listeners alike waited for the wind and rain to abate.
And in true Colorado fashion, it did just that. A little bit later sun came through the clouds and a dazzling rainbow arced across the theater. The players moved back on stage, took their places, and completed the performance with a rousing Scherzo and Finale of the symphony. It really was a spectacular performance enhanced by nature’s drama and unpredictability. Live music at its best!
We shall see what transpires in our upcoming performance of Mahler’s Symphony No. 6. With the Hammerblows of Fate, I doubt Mother Nature can resist a little atmospheric gift. See you then.
It was the usual orchestra library whirlwind getting ready for our Vail residency before leaving Dallas. Nevermind that we know all season the DSO will be going each summer and we work hard for months to be ready in plenty of time. Preparations still always go right up to the last minute when the orchestra plays its final pre-tour concert at home and we load the library trunks. It’s just inevitable. Also, the crush of requests from conductors and players the last few days before leaving town can be overwhelming. I am certainly grateful to my colleagues Mark, Melissa and Shannon who have pushed hard through these last weeks to make sure all is done. Even though only one of us goes on the road, each tour success is a credit back home to the whole team.
To be sure, works we have done earlier in the season are good to go in advance and that is some relief. Also, once programs are set, the worksheets, concert orders, and related informational communiques are put in motion.
Of course, programs are never entirely set I suppose; you know the phrase “subject to change.” And so it goes that we did have a couple of last-minute encore changes. There was also some scrambling on the pops programs with charts that had to arrive late due to other orchestras’ usage. And this is when the rubber meets the road.
I think our poor personnel manager had the most difficult task right at the end. Lots of personnel changes necessitated a constant revision of seating charts and stage diagrams for each concert, and even each work, not to mention some late hiring for a few positions. Plus, we are coming out of a year of visiting and newly-hired concertmasters, which means that until the new season begins players are rotating in and out for the various Vail performances. This photo gives you an idea of the detailed stage diagrams that must be created for each piece – so that the stage hands, librarians and players all know what’s going on. We follow these when setting up the stage before rehearsals and concerts, and throughout the performance during repertoire and stage changes.
Of course, we mustn’t get too comfortable with these diagrams either – although we know this venue well and are pretty clear on how everything should fit – there are about a gazillion variables that go into setting up an orchestra on any given night and it only takes one to change the whole picture!
Okay, so every now and then we orchestra librarians admittedly get a little obsessive about our workplace tools. And we know it sounds ridiculous to outsiders who suspect we are geeks and nerds anyway. I doubt most people would find much interest in comparisons of pencils, pens, erasers, tape, paper, correction tape, paper cutters, copiers, archival music boxes, rolling shelving, music trunks and folders.
Or wind clips.
Perhaps only an orchestra librarian can feel true passion about a good wind clip. I know I do.
Our stage manager needed to acquire some more clips for our Vail residency where performances take place in the Gerald R. Ford Ampitheater – a covered outdoor venue at 8,000 feet above sea level. Except the covering isn’t 100% and the wind and rain are definitely an issue. And because we are taking 100+ players this time for Mahler Symphony No. 6, we have to have 200+ functioning wind clips at the minimum (percussionists and players on the outside rim of the stage often need more than 2 per stand).
So it was for this reason that we found ourselves explaining the relative merits and demerits of the various wind clip options before the purchase was made. In the past we have ordered custom-made clips of very high quality for reasons which will shortly become apparent. Commercially available (and less expensive) clips usually don’t measure up and actually can become an impediment to the well-being of both the music and the players.
The more we got into our “research” the more we giggled about what we consider truly important in our world. One has to laugh about the absurd, and besides that, I was trying really hard not to think about all the details on our three pops programs – fifty or more pieces – that wouldn’t be rehearsed before we left town and for which there was no turning back once we did.
Therefore, I bring you…….The Wind Clip.
The clip on the far left is a mid-20th century representation, origin unknown. Note the spring mechanism and shape of plastic. This clip still works well.
The next two clips from the left are representations of custom-made clips circa 1990’s. You will see that there is now a real spring (which can be either too tight or too loose) and the clear plastic is shaped to start further away from the wood, gradually ending in very close contact. This is the most crucial element of a good clip. The distance between the plastic and wood allows the clip to secure a stack of parts and still lie flat on the page, so the player can read through the clear plastic. Which is the whole point.
That being said, the 3rd clip from the left has TOO much of a gap between the plastic and the wood, and so, if the spring is not tight enough, slides around on the edge of the stand and is easily flung off mid-turn when in a hurry. The looser clips also end up on the floor during stage set-ups and moves, which wastes a huge amount of time all the way around.
However, this clip has one really good feature the others don’t – a shorter wooden section on the top which means a longer clear plastic section, and so more area through which one can read notes.
The last clip on the right is a commercially-purchased one, all plastic with a very tight clear top, and it’s terrible. You can see what happens in the next photo.
I don’t even know what else to say about that. Except don’t buy them!
Of our four featured clips today, I would have to go with the 2nd from the left. It’s not perfect, but it works the best overall, and when dealing with the music for 100+ stands and 200+ clips, it can be counted on to do what it’s supposed to do.
And that, my friends, is your very important library lesson for the day. As I post this, the orchestra is rehearsing the very piece in the photo above. Complete with clips keeping music in place through a gentle Colorado breeze.
Well, I didn’t intend to be away from the blog for so long. It’s certainly not for a lack of material to write about from the orchestra library, trust me. So I have nothing but excuses and won’t bore you with my non-productivity in this area. However, a little insight into the past couple of months might amuse you.
It seems that every season we put our heads down in the mid-to-late fall, pushing madly through holiday concerts into preparation for the new year’s programs, until we can take a breather and look up just before spring. This winter I grabbed a quick look up one late night at precisely the wrong moment — to watch the snow fall, of all things — and seconds later found myself flat out on the frozen ground, painfully reminded that there was a thick layer of ice under that snow. Now, after almost seven weeks, the boot that was protecting a broken ankle with severely strained ligaments has come off…..to my great relief. I gotta tell you, trying to do the physical duties of an orchestra librarian with that thing on has been quite the challenge. And entertaining for the whole orchestra, too!
The ordeal was indeed comical on many days, especially with the uneven shuffle I used to hobble along, or Hop-Along (as I was dubbed) especially in the beginning. I managed to kick and trip over everything in my path which led to a few more twists and turns. The stage was suddenly a terrifying minefield of chairs, stands, instruments, mutes and RISERS. And one look at a pops set-up with all the electric chords, mikes and amps sent me straight back to hide in the library.
So, many thanks to my colleagues Mark and Melissa (despite her impending motherhood) for picking up the slack with folders and stage moves, as well as the players who graciously handed me music when asked so that I wouldn’t have to try and climb over things to reach them. They surely saved me from mowing down a whole row of woodwinds more than once.
I broke a foot once before about ten years ago, and had a horrible blue/gray/white boot that looked and felt like one of those 1980’s ski boots. That particular adventure took me on tour to Carnegie Hall, and tromping all over New York City trying to keep up with my library friends from the Met and Philharmonic. One feels particularly graceful and stylish clunking around on stage in such gear.
At least this time I was bedecked for spring fashion week. And the boot was concert black.
You know how people always say “THAT was a first!”? As time goes on in one’s professional life one begins to have fewer firsts, obviously, which makes it all that much more interesting when something entirely new does happen. I could have never predicted the first I experienced this week.
On Tuesday morning, just before rehearsals began for the last classical series weekend before the holidays, the Music Director (newly-returned to town after some time away) and I were looking over his upcoming programs and discussing what scores he would need. He walked around his desk to retrieve what I thought would be a score requiring emergency repair, only to see that he had picked up his baton.
Did I have a shorter one for him to use?
I went back to the library and looked through our small stash, coming up with one that would no doubt be too short, plus one a bit longer. Both were quite cheap “off the rack” models. I went back to his office to see if either would work.
Neither one seemed to do the trick. So, the request was made — could I cut his baton off a little bit?
Surprised, I said sure, I’d give it a try, not knowing precisely at that moment how I was going to do this. The conducting assistant and I walked back into the library with said baton, and it was then I realized scissors were not going to cut it (pun intended) so moved to the paper cutter. I lifted the arm and carefully positioned the baton at the length we thought was about right. Just before bringing down the cutting arm, I looked at the assistant to give him the opportunity to tell me to stop. He said “go for it, I’ll take responsibility!” and, while we both held our breath, I whacked the thing down, neatly clipping off about an inch.
For those of you not in this business, you might not realize that many conductors have their batons custom made with beautiful wooden handles and perfectly weighted sticks. Plus they have hosts of carrying cases and wooden boxes for the batons, all of which can cost a good deal of money. The idea of chopping a baton off seemed to me as taboo as cutting pages in a cloth-bound full score or ripping chapters from a lovely volume of great literature.
Nevertheless, I do confess to enjoying this little exercise, perhaps a bit more than I should have……
Last night I asked the MD how it was going with the truncated baton — he said it was great. Looks kinda short to me, and has this blunt end now, but what the heck do I know? He was happy and that’s what matters.
The MD is headed off to do a production of Parsifal for the month of December. I hope the baton is long enough for that.
Like a few other major orchestras out there this season, we are in the hunt for a new first concertmaster. About a dozen fine fiddle players have been invited to fill the position temporarily as they and we are able to match schedules. Most of these folks are doing the “Concertmaster Circuit” and substituting in those other orchestras too. And, while most of them will not actually be auditioning for the permanent job because they already have other great gigs around the country, some will, and that audition is in mid-November. The position will likely not being filled until the start of next season as is typical with this type of position. In the meantime, we have music to prepare and performances to produce so we are trying to stay ahead of the geographically-challenged marking process which is just a tad on the crazy side!
Life being what it is, of course, none of these violinists are available for any one stretch of time, so they are coming and going, back and forth, or popping into town for a single week. So far we have welcomed four substitute concertmasters — wonderful players who have been delightful to work with — and two will return later on. All the while we are in touch with the other eight, sending pdf and hard copies of parts to be checked over for bowing changes, arranging dates by which those markings can be returned far enough in advance for us to go through the rest of the bowing process, and staying in contact through the inevitable program changes for a couple of the weeks and issues with rental materials for some of the others. Just the normal stuff. But long distance. Which adds a few weeks to the process.
It’s been really interesting to watch the various styles of leadership and hear the changes in the sound of the section with a new concertmaster every week or two. I think it’s actually a great opportunity for everyone to work with and adjust to different players, the library included. It provides a chance for us all to approach things from a fresh perspective and learn something in the process.
Four CM’s down, eight to go, coming to town for a total of twenty-one classical subscription programs of three or four performances each.
I just hope I don’t accidentally make any of them mark the wrong piece with all this music flying around!
It is finally a beautiful fall weekend here in Dallas. What a relief. Windows open, breeze coming through the house, and most important — NO SWEATING!
Speaking of relief, I am rotated off this weekend’s performances, and grateful for the opportunity to catch up on all manner of things for life and work. If you don’t know the phrase “rotated” in this context, it is essentially relief-time while the orchestra is working. A very common practice for the players (and conductors, too, of course), there are days and weeks within the concert season when each musician is guaranteed a certain number of “services” off (rehearsals and concerts) that are not considered vacation, personal or sick days, or unpaid leave. In American orchestra libraries, the scheduling is generally a pretty different system and, while we take turns working concerts, we don’t usually have the luxury of a full weekend series off. So it is a real treat when it happens.
This weekend, then, is all about writing and laundry. And some nice walks in the fall air. I’ve been enjoying reading and contributing to the new MOLA page on Facebook, and invite you to visit. Already there are some fun news articles and other good information about an upcoming workshop we are presenting in Chicago:
The good feelings about our field and industry are not without worry for our colleagues both near and far. Today, I am thinking about my friends at the Detroit Symphony Orchestra and Library who will be on strike beginning tomorrow to fight against a truly drastic attempt to change the entire structure, quality, and future of that fine organization. We wish them Godspeed for a decent settlement and a contract that at least treats them with respect. While you are on FB you might stop by their pages as well and offer your support.
Somehow it seemed appropriate to jump back into the blog at the end of a crazy summer with this particular photo. Because it pretty much illustrates how things have been here in North Texas for the past couple of months: 105+ degree temperatures for a bunch of days, no rain, and lots of music to prepare for the start of another season. A little slice of heaven!
This is our dear friend and colleague Shannon Highland, librarian for the opera, whom you have met in a previous post. She comes over and helps us out in the summers, and for that we are very grateful. In the past couple of months she helped us slog through marking several new sets of standard rep for our Music Director’s upcoming programs, as well as handled numerous other projects. The photo shows her back at work in her own library, clearly trying to make do with a less-than-optimal setup. (Getting enough resources and equipment in our libraries to help us do our jobs properly is often very trying, and it’s rare that we are equipped well enough, being non-profits and all. It’s hard to convince managers that buying a piece of equipment isn’t throwing away money; often buying new equipment saves money over a bit of time.)
As you can see, there isn’t much room dedicated to the opera’s orchestra library which is in their rehearsal center — a few tables, shared space with another worker and the percussion cage, and some kind of Mars robot sent in to gather data from the looks of it. Actually, that is the portable air conditioning unit the opera used to cool down its projectors during the Moby Dick premiere. It’s nice to see it was keeping Shannon from sweltering down there during the hottest days of the year. Preparing Don Giovanni has enough challenges without having to literally sweat it out.
It’s unfortunate that the new Winspear Opera House, part of the AT&T Performing Arts Center, does not have a dedicated space for the opera librarian to work or storage for the orchestral and vocal materials. In other words, No Library. Instead, Shannon has to bring all the music over for productions and then claim one of the small studios as a temporary work space during the run of each opera. Why is it that millions of dollars can be spent on these spectacular performance venues and one of the most fundamental needs of the operation is just overlooked? Or, more to the point, why isn’t the priority of the Opera House actually producing Opera by the fine resident Opera Company?
Such questions won’t be answered today for sure, but I do wish and hope for a time when the experienced workers are consulted before grand edifices are erected, and specs given by those professionals are followed during the design and building process. An Opera House without a place for The Music? Wow.
I hope you all have had a great summer and feel ready to start the new season with enthusiasm and energy. Now that the temps in Dallas have plunged to the low 90’s, the word “fall” might start to emerge from the recesses of our memories. Before we know it, the end of 2010 will be nigh.
But there is much music to make before then!