The irony is that these pompous windbags mutter darkly about Philistines who can’t appreciate “good music” without realizing that it is their very attitudes which are preventing converts from lining up. I hasten to add that this attitude is rarely to be found in classical music’s actual practitioners. Rather, it is found in the critics and those who profess to be music lovers.

Lighten up, people! All art is about enjoyment. Even if it could be determined which conductor has put out the most “accurate” interpretation of Mahler’s Third, it isn’t going to clear up the problem in the Middle East. Hell, it ain’t even gonna clear up acne.

So, it was with no little anticipation that I arrived at a well-attended evening concert of The 1998 Next Generation Festival, whose publicity stressed the idea of making chamber music accessible. (And it is terribly odd that chamber music has the reputation of being demanding. Chamber music’s modest components actually make the music easier to grasp.)

The Festival can score a minor victory. Did they loosen things up somewhat from the usual presentation? Yes. Did they go as far toward deflating the experience as they might — or rather, as far as I’d hoped? No.

They brought in world-class performers, including one who is world-renowned, so no one could use the excuse about not wanting to hear second-rate players. They made the concerts free, so all the tightwads lost that excuse. The performers’ attire was so casual that the most of the audience was better dressed. And unlike the normal concert, which is strictly a one-night-stand, they presented it on numerous evenings in several cities. Now, all that is very accessible.

On the other hand, the structure of the evening concerts and, to an extent, the musical choices were back to business as usual. The formality of presentation remained; the works were presented uninterrupted except by bows, chair-shifting or intermission. Even composer Theodore Shapiro’s introduction to his piece occurred before the concert began. And the performing spaces retained the old set-up with all the audience “out here” and the musicians “up there” on stage. So the barriers to psychological accessibility remained.

That even the configuration of the hall need not be a hindrance was proven at the thoroughly enjoyable Family Concert where extracts of the concert were performed after light-hearted introductions by the performers and the composer. While much of it was on a very simple level, the Intro to Music 101 approach would be a highly welcome addition to the “regular” concerts. Shapiro’s explanation of his densely written “City of Windows” went a long way toward making the work more user-friendly. Admittedly, it is probably asking a bit much for anyone to function as a witty emcee and then sit down and flawlessly whip off an intricate Bach partita. Perhaps the Festival should consider finding someone who could introduce the pieces with insight and a light touch.

Before going into any more negatives, I really must make note of the performances, which were splendid. Astonishingly, these four individuals meshed into an ensemble that gave every indication of having played together for years despite rehearsing for a mere week. Their rendering of Beethoven’s “Archduke Trio” was seamless, but even more impressive was their unity on “City of Windows” with its abrupt shifts and sudden silences. If in retrospect Awadagin Pratt and Allison Charney stand out, it is only by dint of their duo appearance at the beginning of the evening, before the arrival of Beth Newdome and Jennifer Kloetzel. In fact, they were truly an ensemble, moving from complex interplay into the virtuoso solos in the Shapiro and the more subtle ones in the Beethoven. The range displayed with these two highly disparate pieces was nothing short of astonishing.

The program for last year’s Next Generation was not all to my taste, but at least one selection turned out to be a happy revelation. The evening began with a selection of Franz Schubert’s songs, a reminder that writing for accompanied solo voice is also chamber music. Since Schubert often transferred melodies and ideas from his songs into larger scale works — including the presented “Death and the Maiden,” which became a string quartet — the songs are like a glimpse into his sketchbook. Personally, I prefer Schubert’s orchestral works where the sweetness of his melody is offset by a certain astringency. The songs are like a supremely rich dessert — fine in small doses. Hearing seven of them was like eating the whole cheesecake in one sitting.

Judging from audience reactions I overheard at intermission, Shapiro’s relentlessly modern “City of Windows” was not an audience favorite and, truth to tell, I had some difficulty with it myself. Shapiro tends to pile too many dramatic effects upon each other — and too closely together — for my taste; there was no point in the music where I could relax into it. He does however juxtapose this brilliantly with short silences which arrive with frightening swiftness and breathtaking sections where the soprano line arose in incomparable beauty out of the cacophony.

Multiple hearings of this work make it more interesting; whether it is a work which could ever be described as enjoyable is another question. Shapiro is still quite a young talent — and, hey! isn’t that what this festival is about? — so it will be very interesting to see what his style evolves to in about ten years. Certainly the festival deserves a lot of credit for commissioning a new work in only its second year, and for not shying away from presenting a challenging one.

I’ve always been somewhat indifferent to Beethoven, which will probably come as a greater shock to some than if I said I loathed his music. I’ve always sensed the craftsman manipulating the music rather than surrendering to the joy of creating it. It was then quite a surprise to me to find that the “Archduke” Trio was my favorite portion of the evening. I’d never ventured much beyond the symphonies, which always seemed a bit ponderous, so it was a delight to discover this brilliant and buoyant gem.

The most unusual aspect of the Festival, almost a sidebar to it, was the Master Class held at York College. A Master Class is a phenomenon unique to music where pupils perform prepared pieces and are critiqued by an artiste of repute. In this case, the pupils, chosen by lottery, hailed from the York and Harrisburg area; the artiste, of course, was Awadagin Pratt.

The afternoon was a fascinating glimpse into the artistic process. The initial performances by the young participants ranged from just adequate to almost good. Each piece was immediately followed by Pratt giving the students not only technical advice, but — possibly more importantly — also imparting a method of thinking about musical interpretation and performance. One participant explained she played a passage because she’d heard it played that way. “Why would you want to repeat others’ mistakes?” he asked. “You must always approach music as if you never heard it before … never played it before.”

Pratt’s critiques were full of grace, humor, and infinite patience and, as he gently resculpted the performances, he displayed an enviable ability to communicate equally well with different ages and levels of ability. The afternoon provided as intriguing a portrait of Pratt as witnessing his sensitive and inspired playing. Finding a talented artist and a warm human being occupying the same skin is not as common as you might think.