Music as an art form speaks directly to our emotions, and often any sort of understanding or learning is unnecessary for us to feel how the music is affecting us. All too often, however, musicians in the mainstream of today's popular music simply try to be clever or flashy with their lyrics and end up being clich5f, while their accompaniments are often no more than computer generated dronings. At the same time, orchestral music is moving more and more toward the avant-garde, disconnecting itself from many 'isteners.
Singer/songwriter/arranger/pianist Ben Folds has found a middle ground, a way of making music that is emotionally moving and energetic yet does not go flying ten feet over our heads when we hear it. When he made his orchestral debut with the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra this past Friday night, he spanned a divide between classical and popular music that is rarely bridged so fluidly, and he did it without sacrificing the heart of what makes his music impact an audience so profoundly.
Whether with the original Ben Folds Five, as a solo artist or with the current trio with which he recorded Songs for Silverman, the simplicity of his compositions has always been evident. The accompaniment to most of his songs consists of little more than chords, which he can furiously bang out on the piano or softly break up in songs such as "Fred Jones Part II" and "The Luckiest."
Through his lyrics, he tells stories evidencing his humanity, ranging from the horrors of his girlfriend having and abortion in "Brick" to a friend tripping on acid and converting to born-again Christianity in "Not the Same" to the story of his trials and tribulations as a musician in "Army."
On his CD Ben Folds Live, he introduces "Brick" by saying, "I didn't want to write this from any sort of political standpoint to make a statement or anything. I just wanted to reflect on what it feels like." And that is what his lyrics do -- nothing more than that. He leaves the emotion of his songs to the harmonies he writes, to the unique inflections of his voice, and to the audience as they relate to the stories he tells, however frivolous or serious they may be.
For an artist who relies so much on simplicity, it seemed as though the addition of a 100-piece orchestra would only have served to complicate his music and bog it down with too much formality. But to the delight of the thousand or so fans and music lovers that sold out the Meyerhoff Symphony Hall, Folds proved that his talent as a songwriter extends well beyond the keyboard. He varied his uses of the orchestra, in some songs writing full orchestral introductions and passages, in others merely supporting the piano with chords from the string section and in still others leaving the orchestra out altogether and playing by himself on the piano.
At times it seemed that the orchestra was sucking all life out of the concert, but these moments were brief, and the constant energy that Folds supplied at the piano ensured that they were quickly forgotten. For the most part the orchestra added more to the music than it took away, at times providing counter-melody to his singing, accenting the tops of his lines or laying out all together to let the focus return to his voice and piano.
It was also somewhat amazing how informal he was able to keep the concert, swinging it much more towards the rock concert side of the spectrum and extremely far from the straight up symphony concert end. He did this by giving the audience a story for each song of the events that inspired it. After one song he even picked up the piano stool and slammed it onto the keyboard, something which would have shocked the typical symphony audience.
In a further innovation, Folds even managed to get the audience involved in his music, dividing the crowd up the middle and teaching them the saxophone and trumpet parts to "Army," as well as conducting as we sang the backup vocals to "Not the Same." He even had the orchestra singing with the audience as he waved his arms furiously on stage, raising his arms to increase the volume and making a tight circle to cut the sound off.
And despite the thunderous cheers from the audience, Folds showed his concern for the fate of the institution of the orchestra in America, which nationally is suffering from attendance problems that have forced many orchestras out of business, leaving many musicians out of work. Knowing well that most of the audience had come to see him, he urged everyone to see the Baltimore Symphony, or any symphony orchestra again, and to support the musicians who like him have dedicated their lives to creating or performing music.
This concern for music spurs from his respect for it, a respect which he honors by writing music that has deep, emotional meaning. It shows through the multiple styles he uses in his songs, and through his solos, one of which quoted Gershwin's "Rhapsody in Blue." And in a way this deep respect which he holds for music made his orchestral debut all the more appropriate: his treatment of music as an art form is just as serious as the orchestra's. He just doesn't take himself nearly that seriously.
