Hh10 — The Knights
BROOKLYN | How this orchestral collective uses unconventional means to achieve conventional ends
WORDS BY MICHAEL ZARATHUS-COOK
One of the most underutilised assets of a corporate orchestra, is the ability to think like a start-up but act like a Fortune 500. Yes, the business end of a fully-fledged ensemble is indispensable, but the clunky bureaucracy of corporate culture often fumbles the necessary spontaneity and effervescent reactivity that a music-making enterprise needs in order to keep some blood in its cheeks. The hurdles and advantages to being able to think with the same creative dexterity of a small huddle of musicians, but actualize this vision with the robust considerations and multi-faceted deployment of a large performance hub, is the perpetual investigative mission of this Hubs and Huddles series.
A great deal of competing factors would have to align before we notice a sea change in how large orchestra’s leverage their resources towards more intimate and spontaneous musical encounters. In the meantime, we can look at the examples set by the growing list of small-to-mid-sized ensembles punching above their weight without losing hold of a peculiar administrative looseness that trickles down into the overall vibe of their concerts. That is the sweet spot that The Knights — a Brooklyn-based orchestral collective ─ have carved for themselves, with some compelling results.
Officially incorporated in 2007, The Knights are the brainchild of brothers Eric and Colin Jacobsen, who jointly serve as Co-Artistic Directors of the ensemble. Their orchestra is made up of an eclectic assortment of accomplished musicians who enjoy the flexibility provided by the ensemble’s austere seasonal programming, and the challenges presented by regular collaborations with some of the most celebrated soloists and composers on the global stage. Their list of collaborators include Yo-Yo Ma, Béla Fleck, and Chris Thile; with globetrotting appearances from Tanglewood to the Vienna Musikverein. Deftly mixing everything from the Baroque, to the Classical and contemporary, the program for a concert by The Knights often reads like the roster of an All-star team—with players from different sports.
Their hybrid programs work because they are often bevelled towards a true north that extends beyond mixture for the sake of mixture, a gimmick that can elsewhere appear incoherent. Take, for example, the centrepiece of their on-going Carnegie Hall residency: a multi-year commissioning and production project that’s loosely organised around a word prompt, “Rhapsody”. Their fairly loose interpretation of that prompt has yielded such colourfully contrasting collaborations as their February 29th appearance with pipa player Wu Man, in a program ranging from Ravel, to Weill and (Bob) Dylan, and a newly commissioned Concerto for Pipa by composer Du Yun.
Ahead of this Carnegie Hall appearance with Wu Man, the Jacobsen brothers join Hubs & Huddles for a reflection session on how they got here, the ever-evolving scope of their mission, and their Rhapsody Commissioning Project. While the wide-ranging conversation speaks for itself, there were a couple take-aways that hark back to what larger orchestras can accomplish by thinking like their more svelte counterparts. Within the same week of this interview, there was news of one of Canada’s prominent orchestras receiving yet another emergency government grant in order to stay afloat. I won’t say which orchestra in order to de-emphasize the particulars of their circumstances and emphasise that the same hurdles they face may be lurking for any orchestra on the continent. So it’s never too late to look elsewhere for fresh ideas on how a symphony can thrive despite ─ and perhaps because of — the omnivorous appetite of our current content consumption trends.
An orchestra, whatever the size, relies on a long alphabet of conventions─from the length of intermissions to the ideal ratio of new and old music. Things start to get really interesting when ensembles find unconventional means, that are perhaps more sustainable, to achieve these conventional ends. I think that’s exactly what makes The Knights’ approach interesting. So, as a sort of too-long-didn’t-listen summary, here’s an abbreviated list of what larger ensembles can learn from these “knights of the many-sided table”:
Wayfinding pragmatism — Listen to what your immediate audiences need, and make that the true north. If that true north changes — say, they suddenly want to hear more music by Florence Price after watching Tár — hurry towards this new north.
The playing field ─ Orchestral music is more a field of play than a fixed roster of players, so embrace freelance musicians as a sort of “shadow orchestra.” Sure you can keep your permanent roster of musicians, but frequent collaborations with contemporary musicians passing through town just might bring in that coveted new audience demo.
Look elsewhere — Sometimes simply screaming Mahler’s name isn’t enough, you need to look elsewhere to find the context of why a program ─ or composer, conductor, whatever — matters now. Be it historical salience, a word prompt, or even cinematic influences, context is the bridge between the score and bums in seats.
Ambassadors ─ If all else fails, make sure to have compelling spokespeople for your orchestra. Not necessarily the brass of organisation, but folks who know just enough to faithfully and enthusiastically convey the why behind the whos and whats.
Air BnB on the G String — Want to reach new audiences? Try subletting a new venue for an evening. Sometimes, the impressive ─ an imposing — piece of real estate that an orchestra performs out of can be its greatest obstacle towards new audiences. Find a venue that fills 900 and program some fiery violin concerto that’ll make the place feel like a cosy village inn.
Towards a new canon ─ If all else really does fail, then return to the blueprints and find new music that expresses contemporary sentiments. If it means one less Brahms concerto gets to see the light of day in order for a Jessie Montgommery piece to shine—them’s the breaks.