Wednesday, November 18, 2015

Semour: An Introduction (2014) Review


Lucas Versantvoort / 31 Oct 2015

Having been a fan of classical music for about ten years now, I must confess I'd never heard of Seymour Bernstein. What's worse is that this was a man being touted as someone who 'needed no introduction'. Good thing then Ethan Hawke created the very appropriately titled Seymour: An Introduction which goes beyond music and gives a glimpse of an entire ethos and lifestyle. 
We see Bernstein sitting at the piano in his cozy little apartment, practicing (what I think is) a Scarlatti piece and trying to get a certain phrase just right. From here on out, the documentary alternates between several types of scenes: masterclasses, interviews, casual conversations, etc. We see how his masterclasses help his students with phrasing and so on. The documentary takes on a hypnotic quality--aided by the immense amount of Schubert--as Bernstein explains his views on music, life and everything in between.
My first experience with classical music was Milos Forman's Amadeus which blew me away, because it wasn't just about music, but the people behind the music, their passions and obsessions. Seymour: An Introduction works in similar ways. Like Salieri, Seymour sees music as something more than just sound waves entering our ears. Music can be transcendent. It can be a force that unites people (as seen when Seymour reminisces about his wartime concerts). Ethan Hawke himself only appears about three times, making sure to not make the documentary about him, and you can feel he took great pains to paint Seymour in a light that adequately reflects the man's way of life.
I did feel, however, that the documentary could have bothered to spend more time on a few select topics. Take the notion of interpretation, for example. Seymour says that Glenn Gould, while a genius, let his eccentricity seep into his interpretations too much. When Gould plays Bach, Seymour only hears Gould. However, in an earlier masterclass, Seymour himself suggested that a slight alteration in interpretation be made, because we 'feel' that it must be played in a certain way and so on. I'm not saying Seymour is a hypocrite. Far from it. What I am saying is that the documentary implicitly raises questions of interpretation: what makes a good interpretation and when does an interpretation deviate 'just too much' from the source material? When does a unique interpretation go from 'inspired' to 'eccentric'? Another example is when Seymour explains he quit performing due to stress. A close friend then raises the question of whether or not a performer has a certain responsibility to his talent, art and audience despite any amount of stress. Yet, the documentary never shows Seymour giving a direct answer to this question (though we can guess he feels he's accepted this responsibility in the way he passes on his craft to his pupils). I get that the focus is ultimately on Seymour, but it still bothered me that these kinds of interesting topics were being addressed yet sometimes not really dealt with.
All in all though, the portrait it manages to paint of a man and his entire lifestyle in under ninety minutes leaves a lasting impression. Any niggling complaints about the documentary's reluctance to discuss certain musical topics in-depth are superseded by the romantic, gentle way Hawke portrays Bernstein.

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