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The women of the Eroica Trio are first-rate musicians--so don't hate them because they're beautiful. BY JAMES McQUILLEN
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Eroica Trio Lewis & Clark College, Agnes Flanagan Chapel, Friday, Feb. 5 Have I been seduced? A press release announcing a visit from an acclaimed chamber ensemble has always been enough for me to raise one eyebrow, but the advertisement of an upcoming concert by the Eroica Trio raised both. Here were three women playing chamber music, which even in the context of the famously sexist classical music world is a resolutely male domain. They came well recommended, with prestigious awards and glowing reviews. They also happened to be young and very attractive, and in their field that is enough to get them branded as seductresses. We live in a country where furtive sexual encounters in the Oval Office are offenses on a par with the calculated subversion of the democratic process, so perhaps it's not surprising that in the rarefied air of the concert hall, bare shoulders and a stylish haircut are enough to get some people in a lather. Even allowing that these three--pianist Erika Nickrenz, violinist Adela Peña and cellist Sara Sant'Ambrogio--cultivate a glamorous image, suspicions that they have attained the highest ranks of musicianship through something other than talent and hard work say a good deal about the place of women in classical music. That they are superb performers should not be in doubt. Nickrenz, Peña and Sant'Ambrogio, who bear improbably perfect names for a chamber group, have been playing together in various pairings since they were kids, and each has had a notable solo career. They met at Juilliard and formed the trio that, a few years later, won first prize at the Walter F. Naumberg Chamber Music Competition, the top award in the field. Their self-titled first disc was named "Debut Recording of the Year" by the National Public Radio program Performance Today. Despite their babes-with-instruments image, the trio's name is not missing a "t" in the middle. It comes from Beethoven's Third Symphony (also called the Eroica), means "heroic" and has to do with how the three play. Their style, which a local audience had a chance to experience last weekend at Lewis & Clark College, is marked by intensity. They treat every phrase incisively, never leaving anything to routine or to chance; they are capable of the most attenuated delicacy, but they can also produce a huge sound. Peña's delicate arms don't look capable of reducing a violin to a pile of broken strings and sawdust, but that is what she often seems on the verge of doing. Likewise Sant'Ambrogio, who plays with a bigger tone than I've heard from most male cellists. It would be easy for Nickrenz to overwhelm her partners, but she maintains perfect balance, and her tonal coloring is striking. Together they achieve the goal of every chamber ensemble--to form a whole greater than the sum of its parts. They play the full range of the trio literature, but their recordings indicate a predilection for pieces packed with musical ideas and dramatic transitions: Dvorak's "Dumky," Ravel, Schumann No. 1, Shostakovich No. 2. They play with gusto, their tempos and dynamics often pushing interpretive limits. An apt colloquialism would be "balls-out," except that, well, you know. The results are generally remarkable. Their performance of the "Dumky" last Friday was thrilling, perfectly negotiating the transitions between its lyrical melancholy and driving vitality; the only shortcoming, a minor one, was that the violin's lower register lacked strength and was occasionally overwhelmed by the cello. Their second recording, recently released, features both that piece and Shostakovich's second trio, a work of profound poetry and galloping genius. They give it an astonishingly good interpretation, with a heightened sensitivity to both its grief and its humor. There is no reason women should not share the chamber-music spotlight with men. The qualities, besides technical skill, that go into making a good ensemble musician--artistry, sensitivity, the ability to communicate and work toward consensus--are traditionally given to be feminine ones. But though women have made inroads into orchestras (though rarely as conductors) and the public thirst for young female soloists seems insatiable, the male-dominated--if not male-only--chamber group is the rule. Thinking that most male musicians would welcome the presence of the Eroica as a breath of fresh air, I asked in an interview the day after their concert here whether they had received a warm welcome. In unison, they shook their heads vigorously. "There's a lot of skepticism," said Sant'Ambrogio, and the others chimed in: "'Can they really play that well?' they ask. 'And why do they have to dress that way?'" "Here are these guys in $1,000 tuxes," said Sant'Ambrogio, "and we're wearing $150 dresses we found in catalogs." The issue of dress, or lack thereof, has been a major one for women in classical music, and the Eroica has been brought into the fray. In a Wall Street Journal essay last summer (somewhat mystifyingly included by the trio's agents in its press clippings), Gwendolyn Freed wrote that the "hyper-coifed, spaghetti-strapped women of the Eroica Trio" were "seemingly intent on displaying sexuality." Though she acknowledged that "on musical merits they have earned their foothold on the very highest rung of the profession," her piece sounds as though it might have been written by someone in the Saudi culture ministry. The bottom line is essentially that the Eroica is selling itself with sex. The trio "fits into a trend," as Freed puts it, that began with a strapless Anne-Sophie Mutter, continued with Lara St. John--who posed for a CD cover photo with only a violin covering her breasts--and has culminated in the Finnish violinist Linda Brava posing nude for Playboy. This is bewildering. Members of the Eroica have appeared in spaghetti-strapped and even strapless gowns, but in general their attire is nothing that would be out of place in their audience. Baring arms makes sense for musicians, and even if it didn't, it's hard to see what the fuss is about. "We're young women," said Nickrenz, "so we dress like young women." It's not about to get them concert dates in Tehran, but it's hardly provocative. Freed also cites Naomi Wolf's The Beauty Myth, about unrealistically high standards of beauty and the pressure they place on women. Should attractive musicians try to look frumpy to appease those who think that women need to look like Bella Abzug or Golda Meir to be credible? And what of the high standards of classical performance? You can pay for a personal trainer, breast implants and a nose job, but you can't buy musical talent. Compared with their musicianship, the beauty of the Eroicas seems pretty attainable indeed. Does it matter that they're beautiful? Well, watching them sure doesn't
suck. But would I listen to them if they weren't? Their PR might not
have reached me as quickly--attractive women being more marketable than
crusty old men--but of course I would. I admire their talent and their
commitment, and I believe that they can be role models for young women
trying to establish themselves in an overwhelmingly male field. Their
vitality and dedication can only strengthen classical music, which is,
in the words of Guarneri Quartet violinist Arnold Steinhardt, "a rare
and fragile flower at the best of times." So, have I been seduced? I
think not. Close your eyes and listen. - - - - - - - - - - - -
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