Music

He believed that music could transcend national borders set by colonialism and restore ancient ties, even as it embraced the changes of a globalizing society.Toumani Diabaté, a virtuoso of the kora, a 21-stringed West African instrument, which he often put into dialogue with other musical traditions from around the globe, died on Friday in Bamako, Mali. He was 58.His death, in a hospital, was caused by kidney failure, said his manager, Saul Presa.Born in Mali to a line of griots, or traditional West African musician-historians, that he traced back more than 70 generations, Mr. Diabaté was devoted to celebrating the heritage of Mandé-speaking peoples throughout West Africa, and to sharing that history with the world.“If you think of West Africa as a body, then the griot is the blood,” he told The New York Times in 2006. “We are the guardians of West Africa’s society. We are communicators.”He believed that music could transcend national borders set by colonialism and restore ancient ties, even as it embraced the changes of a globalizing society. That mission inspired him to create his flagship ensemble, the Symmetric Orchestra.“I started building this band to rebuild Manden empire in a cultural way,” he said in a 2011 interview with Uncut magazine, referring to the Mali Empire that once covered the Upper Niger River basin from present-day Mali to Senegal. “The musicians are all from West African, Manden countries. I took the best from Senegal, Ghana, Guinea, Burkina Faso, Mauretania, and I put them all together.”Mr. Diabaté recorded two duet albums with the Malian guitarist Ali Farka Touré. They both won the Grammy Award for best traditional world music album.World CircuitWe are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

John Eliot Gardiner is stepping down from three renowned period groups he founded, after he was accused of hitting a singer last year.John Eliot Gardiner, an eminent conductor who was accused of striking a singer in France last year, will not be returning to three renowned period ensembles he founded, the board overseeing them announced Wednesday.Gardiner, 81, who is one of the world’s most celebrated conductors, will no longer lead the three groups: the Monteverdi Choir, the English Baroque Soloists and the Orchestre Révolutionnaire et Romantique.The board of the Monteverdi Choir & Orchestras, the nonprofit that oversees all three ensembles, said Wednesday that it had decided that Gardiner, who had been on leave since the incident in France last summer, “will not be returning to the organization.”“The M.C.O. takes seriously its obligations to protect victims of abuse and assault and preventing any recurrence remains a priority for the organization,” the group said in a statement.Gardiner sought to frame the decision as his own, saying in a later statement on Wednesday that it came after “a great deal of soul-searching since the deeply regrettable incident” in France.He drew widespread criticism after he was accused of striking the singer, William Thomas, a rising bass from England, on the face last summer after a performance of the first two acts of Berlioz’s opera “Les Troyens” at the Festival Berlioz in La Côte-Saint-André. Gardiner was apparently upset that Thomas had headed the wrong way off the podium at the concert, people at the festival said at the time.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

When listeners were given the power to program an orchestral concert, the results were surprising.I love the classical music canon, and I hate it.To be precise, I hate the way we assume audiences will invariably choose it over what’s new and unusual. If you listen to marketing departments, there may be grudging tolerance for some fresh sounds at the start of a concert, but basically, people want the standards — more than ever, as their ticket-buying behavior over the past few years suggests they are only more enamored of chestnuts like “The Planets” and Beethoven’s Ninth.So it was a small but sweet triumph over this narrative when, on Saturday at David Geffen Hall, an audience did exactly the opposite. Finally, the familiar and the less so were put to a fair fight — and who do you think won?The battlefield was Symphony of Choice, a kind of preview performance at the start of the three-week, 13-concert season of the Festival Orchestra of Lincoln Center. That’s the slightly awkward name of what was once the Mostly Mozart Festival Orchestra, before the center’s warm-weather offerings were consolidated as Summer for the City two years ago.Streamlining previously competing series and festivals has made the schedule clearer. But it has also meant the disappearance of ambitious classical programming in favor of the sort of smaller-scale, pop-culture-oriented events that Shanta Thake, Lincoln Center’s chief artistic officer since 2021, produced when she ran Joe’s Pub at the Public Theater.Amid the silent discos, mindfulness sessions and comedy nights, you get the sense that classical music is now viewed with faint irritation, as a stodgy and expensive waste of resources. People already know Lincoln Center for operas and symphonies during the regular season, the thinking goes, so the center’s audience isn’t going to be expanded in the summer through more of that — especially if those symphonies aren’t packageable as “experiences.”Which is why Symphony of Choice gave me pause when I first heard about it. The goal was for the Festival Orchestra, newly under the direction of the young conductor Jonathon Heyward, to offer a taste of its programs over the next few weeks. The gimmick was a crowdsourced popularity contest.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

Steve Porcaro of Toto, who played on some of the biggest hits of the ’80s, has sold the rights to his music, including a pair of unreleased tracks with the superstar.After more than four decades, Steve Porcaro is still amazed that his song ended up on the biggest-selling album of all time.In 1982, when he was a keyboardist in Toto — the band of studio insiders that dominated rock radio with sleekly crafted hits like “Africa” and “Hold the Line” — Porcaro was tinkering with a new tune, a mid-tempo ballad inspired by his attempt to comfort his young daughter after a playground quarrel. The rest of the group wasn’t into it.But Porcaro kept working on the song at the studio of his Toto bandmate David Paich, the group’s primary songwriter, who was pitching Quincy Jones some rock-oriented material for Michael Jackson’s next album. One day, they put two of Paich’s songs on a cassette for Jones; on the flip side was a rough demo of Porcaro’s ballad.When Jones heard that tape, it was Porcaro’s tune that entranced him, with its mellow mood and searching chorus: “Why, why?/Tell her that it’s human nature.” With lyrics added by John Bettis, “Human Nature” became a key cut on “Thriller,” which sold 34 million copies in the United States alone and transformed pop music in the 1980s.“It was a total, absolute fluke,” Porcaro recalled in a recent video interview from his home studio in Los Angeles, which is lined with gold and platinum albums by Toto and Jackson.“Human Nature” is now part of the latest in the music industry’s big catalog transactions. This week, Porcaro signed a deal, estimated in the low eight figures, to sell the rights to his music to the Jackson estate and the independent music company Primary Wave, they confirmed.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

In September 2023, Chappell Roan opened the tour for her debut album, “The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess,” in Sacramento at the Goldfield Trading Post, a venue that holds 600 people.Last Friday night in Seattle, she held court before a festival crowd of 10,000 at the Capitol Hill Block Party. And lately, 10,000 is a small crowd for the rising pop star.The narrow street where the event is held couldn’t contain all the fans who arrived in glittery pink cowboy hats — a homage to Roan’s song “Pink Pony Club,” about dancing at a gay bar — so those without tickets camped out at an adjacent gas station and sang along to synth-pop hits like “Good Luck, Babe!” and “Hot to Go!,” both of which have been climbing Billboard’s Hot 100 in the past six weeks.The last few months have been transformative for Roan, 26, who released her first EP in 2017, was dropped by her label in 2020 and then began a fruitful collaboration with the songwriter and producer Daniel Nigro (Olivia Rodrigo, Sky Ferreira). Since she looked directly into the camera at the Coachella festival in April and declared, “I’m your favorite artist’s favorite artist,” she has seemingly been everywhere — on TikTok, YouTube, talk shows, NPR’s Tiny Desk.Chappell Roan onstage at the Capitol Hill Block Party in Seattle last Friday.Fans in the front row celebrating the “Midwest Princess.”We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

She is her own manager, books her own tours and has never had a publicist. And her latest album features a song about communism in the style of Madonna’s “Vogue.”Nothing in this world is certain except death and taxes, and Molly Nilsson writes songs about both.The Swedish-born singer began her career making hazy synth-pop tracks, with titles like “More Certain Than Death” and “I Hope You Die,” that suggested love and mortality were always intertwined. But, over the past decade, politics has increasingly shaded her work: A Nilsson record might be the only place where references to late capitalism and the trickle-down economy feel perfectly at home in a pop song. Her latest album “Un-American Activities” features a song about communism that’s also a hommage to Madonna’s “Vogue.”“I’m writing the kind of music that I want to listen to myself,” Nilsson said recently in a video interview from Berlin, where she lives.Over her 16-year career, Nilsson, 39, has established a cult following while working outside the music industry’s norms. She is her own manager, books her own tours and has never hired a publicist. For years, she pressed her own records and hawked them around record stores herself.“The industry needs you a lot more than you need it,” she said. “I’m kind of bulletproof,” she added, “because even if I fail at what I’m doing, at least I did it.”In Berlin, Nilsson said she felt “liberated by the fact that you didn’t have to be a musician to make music, you didn’t have to be living off your paintings to call yourself an artist.”Gordon Welters for The New York Times“Un-American Activities,” released this month, is Nilsson’s most nakedly political record yet: an album-length exploration of McCarthyist blacklisting that draws lines between what Nilsson called “the persecution of leftists and socialists” in the ’40s and ’50s and the rise of the far-right today.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

Mr. Mayall was best known for recruiting and polishing the talents of one gifted young lead guitarist after another, starting with Eric Clapton.John Mayall, the pioneering British bandleader whose mid-1960s blues ensembles served as incubators for some of the biggest stars of rock’s golden era, died on Monday. He was 90. The death was confirmed in a statement on Mr. Mayall’s official Facebook page. The statement did not give a cause or specify where he died, saying only that he died “in his California home.”Though he played piano, organ, guitar and harmonica and sang lead vocals in his own bands with a high, reedy tenor, Mr. Mayall earned his reputation as “the godfather of British blues” not for his own playing or singing but for recruiting and polishing the talents of one gifted young lead guitarist after another.“Blues Breakers,” colloquially known as The “Beano” album, featuring Eric Clapton was the debut studio album by the English blues rock band John Mayall & the Bluesbreakers, was released in 1966.DeccaIn his most fertile period, between 1965 and 1969, those budding stars included Eric Clapton, who left to form the band Cream and eventually became a hugely successful solo artist; Peter Green, who left to found Fleetwood Mac; and Mick Taylor, who was snatched from the Mayall band by the Rolling Stones.A more complete list of the alumni of Mr. Mayall’s band of that era, known as the Bluesbreakers, reads like a Who’s Who of British pop royalty. The drummer Mick Fleetwood and the bassist John McVie were also founding members of Fleetwood Mac. The bassist Jack Bruce joined Mr. Clapton in Cream. The bassist Andy Fraser was an original member of Free. Aynsley Dunbar would go on to play drums for Frank Zappa, Journey and Jefferson Starship.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

There is a passage in Serge Koussevitzky’s final recording of Tchaikovsky’s Fourth Symphony that some listeners might hear in horror, but others with a degree of awe.He recorded the piece in 1949 with the Boston Symphony Orchestra, during the last weeks of his 25 years as its music director. About two minutes from the end of the first movement, the symphony is doing its best to keep calm. Flutes and clarinets arc gently, then oboes and horns; the cellos and basses stay constant beneath the nervous skittering of the other strings.But then the bass begins to pull down. Suddenly the higher strings start to dominate, as anxiety takes hold; that sinking bass becomes inescapable. Tchaikovsky asks for a crescendo. Koussevitzky gives him that, but he also accelerates dramatically into the darkness, as fateful motifs blare. A few seconds later, just as the music seems ready to meet its destiny, Koussevitzky decides to make us wait. Fanfares blaze, entirely out of tempo, only to announce an unwritten silence. And then, savagery. As Tchaikovsky himself described this coda, “no haven exists.”Tchaikovsky: Symphony No.4, first movementBoston Symphony Orchestra (Pristine)This is the kind of moment that, in the wrong hands, gives Tchaikovsky a bad name. Koussevitzky was hardly alone in taking liberties with the composer, but many other conductors have at least tried to contain the drama here, rather than let hysteria hang out. Even Wilhelm Furtwängler, who like Koussevitzky sought to follow the spirit implied in a score as much as its explicit text, stayed truer to what Tchaikovsky actually wrote.But in Koussevitzky’s hands, the effect is shattering. This Tchaikovsky Fourth is irresistible evidence of just how much he and the Boston Symphony achieved in their quarter of a century together. Conviction resounds. The playing is virtuosic, yet not for the sake of display. Every phrase sings. There is formidable power and intensity, but also enough elegance that it feels apt for the writer Harris Goldsmith to have described the Boston strings as “one of the hedonistic delights of Western civilization.” In 1944, the New York Times critic Olin Downes said that Koussevitzky had refined his orchestra into “the most highly perfected and sensitized symphony ensemble in the world.”We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More