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Cheng 2 Duo in Review

Bryan Cheng, cello

Silvie Cheng, piano

Weill Recital Hall, New York, NY

October 16, 2011

Cheng 2 Duo

The New York debut recital of Bryan and Silvie Cheng was infused with a spirit of thoughtfulness and generosity. The obvious affection between the two siblings extends beyond the familial sphere into the audience, and most importantly, into the music itself. The differences between brother and sister, both as players and as individuals, were apparent within minutes of the first piece. The thirteen year old cellist, Bryan Cheng, is gifted with abundant facility, innate musicality, and a sense of joy. Although his talent needs shaping, he benefits from an experienced and exquisite partner in his sister Silvie.

The program alternated between showcases of virtuosity for the cellist, and solid, refined renditions of two sonatas from the solo piano repertory. Their first offering, the Schubert Arpeggione Sonata, was delivered with aplomb, and a nice sense of phrasing and structure. Here, as in later works on the program, Mr. Cheng’s left hand work was admirable, but not completely secure. I hesitate to dwell on this because he is already playing on such a high level. However, in a sonata such as this, passagework is so exposed, and the challenge is to make it sound pristine and effortless. He will get there soon, but he is not quite there yet.

Throughout both the Haydn Sonata in E flat major and the Schumann Second Sonata, Ms. Cheng gave thoroughly idiomatic and polished performances. To appreciate Haydn, one must enter into a private, eccentric world of musical expression. The pianist brought us there with her subtle use of rubato and finely varied gradations of touch and dynamic. In the Schumann, her playing of the jewel like second movement was especially poetic, and her pedaling at the close of the fourth movement was purely magical. I have never heard the piano in this hall sound as round and ample.

It was a treat to hear the Paganini Variations on a Theme of Rossini, a work originally written for the violin, but adapted for cello, and played entirely on the A string. With fleet fingers, Mr. Cheng successfully negotiated most, if not all of the Alpine passages of this very difficult work. The afternoon’s only contemporary composition was the single movement, “Bringing the Tiger Down from the Mountain II” by the Chinese-Canadian composer Alexina Louie. In a series of highly contrasting musical gestures, Ms. Louie explores the opposing forces of yin and yang. After the penultimate measures dwindle into barely audible rustlings in both cello and piano, there is a terrific surprise ending, which I will not divulge here. Let’s just say the tiger has the last word.

The Cheng 2 Duo’s grand finale was the Tchaikovsky Rococo Variations, a brave undertaking for any cellist. I enjoyed hearing Mr. Cheng tackle the fierce technical challenges. He has no fear, and when he hits the mark, it can be stunning. This young musician has all the makings of a fine concert artist. If he pays very close attention to how his sister makes music, he could be a great one.

by David La Marche for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

Duo Sirocco in Review

Duo Sirocco in Review

Nathalie Houtman, recorders and xiao (chinese flute)

Raphaël Collignon, harpsichord

Pro Musicis

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall

February 16, 2011

Duo Sirocco

What a wonderful and informative evening! More than just a concert of music for recorder and harpsichord, it was a virtuoso display by two masters of their instruments, combined with a most enlightening history lesson. Yet there was nothing pedantic about this evening’s presentation entitled “A Baroque Concert in the Chinese Emperor’s Palace.” From the opening “Air Chinois” to the closing sonata by Arcangelo Corelli, the concert flowed along so gracefully and pleasantly that it almost seemed to be choreographed.

Who knew that “the musician, missionary and priest Teodorico Pedrini (1671-1746) was sent to Beijing in 1701 by the Pope at the behest of the Emperor of China, who had expressed a wish to have a European artist in his service?” (The preceding was a quote from the fine program notes written by members of the Duo Sirocco and Dr. Richard E. Rodda.) Who knew that one of the first serious western studies of non-western music was written by the French Jesuit missionary Joseph-Marie Amiot (1781-1793) who arrived in Beijing in 1751?

The program, described in the notes as an attempt “to reproduce a concert that would have been given at the palace of Emperor Qian Long (1735-1794),” began with “Air Chinois,” Amiot’s transcription of a Chinese melody, plaintively performed on the Xiao (Chinese flute) by Nathalie Houtman. Ms. Houtman, who began playing from the rear of the hall, walked towards the stage down the right aisle. The non-western aspect of the unaccompanied melody was reinforced by an expressive upward-sighing-figure at the end of each phrase. Meanwhile, Mr. Collignon was quietly walking down the left aisle and then up onto the stage. With perfectly rehearsed timing, he sat down at the harpsichord and joined Ms. Houtman for the conclusion of the Amiot.

The “western-music” part of the concert began with the Sonata for Recorder and Harpsichord, Opus 3 No. 6 by the aforementioned Teodorico Pedrini. (We were to hear two more of these sonatas later in the program, all part of the composer’s Opus 3, his only surviving works.) Although these works are of minor musical merit, they were beautifully performed with an impeccable sense of ensemble and great ornamentation. As they were of great historical interest, I am very glad to have heard them in this context. More interesting musically was the next work, a sonata by the French composer and flute virtuoso Michel Blavet (1700-1768).

Although they were brilliantly performed, the works by Pedrini and Blavet paled next to the music of Jean-Philippe Rameau and Archangelo Corelli. For this listener, the musical high points of the concert were the three harpsichord works by Rameau. I marveled at the harmonic vocabulary of “La Dauphine” and was thrilled by the weird chord progression in “L’Enharmonique,” made even more expressive by Mr. Collignon’s subtle use of rubato. The repeated notes imitating the sound of chickens in “La Poule” were made even more interesting by the way Mr. Collignon varied the articulation. This was great technical skill in the service of great music.

It should be noted that none of the five works which appeared on the printed program as “Sonata for Recorder and Harpsichord” were originally written for these instruments. As stated in the program notes, the three Pedrine sonatas were written for violin and bassoon continuo (bass instrument and harpsichord improvising the stipulated chords), the Blavet for transverse flute and basso continuo, the Corelli for violin and basso continuo. In the baroque, the bass instrument which doubled the lowest note of the harpsichord was often omitted, and other treble instruments could perform the parts originally written for violin or flute. The virtuosic high point of the evening took place during Ms. Houtman’s performance of the Corelli violin sonata, the concert’s final work. What is idiomatic on a violin would seem to be almost impossible on the recorder. After I heard the fast arpeggio “string crossings” in the first movement, in my notes I wrote “Wow!” After the second movement I wrote “faster?”, and after the third I marveled “even faster!!” What fleet fingers, what quick tonguing, what thrilling playing!

After a rousing round of applause, Mr. Collignon ambled onto the stage strumming a tiny Renaissance guitar. Mr. Houtman followed, and together they brought the concert to a delightful conclusion with a rollicking performance of an arrangement of the Tambourin from Rameau’s “Pièces de clavecin, 1731.”

by Harry Saltzman for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

Daniel Seigel, baritone in Review

Daniel Seigel, baritone in Review

Lester Seigel, piano

Weill Recital Hall, New York, NY

November 6, 2010

Daniel Seigel

Daniel Seigel is the 2009 winner of the National Federation of Music Clubs Young Artist Competition. His debut concert on November 6 at Weill Recital Hall was made possible by the Charles and Francis Christmann Estate. (One assumes a connection between the Competition and the Estate.) His rather idiosyncratic program showcased his many gifts and skills and built to a wonderful climax.

Let it be stated at the start: Mr. Seigel is an excellent singer. Apart from an occasional slight instability, especially on soft notes at the ends of phrases, and a somewhat stiff physical presentation at the beginning of the program, (both due to nerves, no doubt) he displayed mastery of his craft. The voice is warm and rich with a nice spin, which allows him to glide effortlessly between registers. His diction is excellent in English, French, German and Italian, and he sings with strong emotional commitment. Mr. Seigel was expertly accompanied by his father, Lester Seigel.

The program began with “L’Ultimo ricordo,” by Rossini. Unfortunately no translation of the Italian was provided. At the end of the program notes, however, we are told that the song is “about a dying man who returns a pressed flower to his wife that he had kept since their wedding when she carried it.” This brings me to a paragraph which should perhaps skipped by those who are interested only in Mr. Seigel.

It never ceases to amaze me that presenting groups spend thousands of dollars and a great deal of time and energy to showcase a performer, and yet make up a printed program which appears amateurish, does not provide the necessary information, and, as in this case, presents information that actually misleads the audience. I must state that which should be obvious: except in rare instances (i.e. a Lieder recital with many individual songs by one or just a few composers), the work to be performed goes on the left, the composer (and his dates) on the right. A set of songs should be indicated as such with the individual songs listed underneath. None of this was done. As a result, the audience didn’t know when to applaud or indeed, at times, what they were hearing. The program notes provided many clues, but the audience should not have to read program notes during the performance. A performer of Mr. Seigel’s calibre deserves the audience’s full attention. The only other thing to which the audience should give attention to is the sheet of song texts and their translations, which guide one through the song. It is my personal preference that not only the texts of songs in foreign languages, but also those of the songs in English should be provided. No matter how fine a singer’s diction is, it can be hard to understand even one’s native language when it is sung. In the case of this program (the musical aspect of which I promise I will return to), none of the twelve English texts was printed, neither of the two Italian texts was printed, all five French texts and their translations were printed, as was the case with the one German song. The worst problem of all was that twice the individual songs of a set were not listed, so one thought that the title of the set was an individual song. The attentive and well-mannered audience members were understandably confused, and some began to applaud at the wrong place, thus no doubt causing themselves a good deal of embarrassment. With all the shuffling and confusion I, for one, missed out on a good deal of Mr. Seigel’s no doubt fine and carefully considered performance. I would caution performers to proofread their programs, even if making up the printed program is not their “job.”

After warming up on the Rossini, Mr. Seigel presented one Lied: Mahler’s “Des Antonius von Padua Fischpredigt,” a humorous song poking fun at preachers. It seemed a little odd to me that this was the lone offering of German Lieder, a genre which most cognoscenti believe to be the greatest body of repertoire for voice and piano. Mr. Seigel and his excellent accompanist, however, gave an ingratiating performance. I would have loved to have heard a little more Mahler, but we now skipped to the twentieth century with Samuel Barber’s cycle “Despite and Still.” Daniel Seigel clearly feels a strong affinity for the repertoire of the middle of the twentieth century and he performed these songs with assurance and intensity. An abrupt and welcome change of mood came with Mercutio’s scintillating aria “Mab, la reine des mensonges” from Gounod’s “Romeo et Juliette.” Mr. Seigel wowed the audience with his rapid fire, crystal clear French. A stirring rendition of Ives’s masterpiece “General William Booth Enters into Heaven” completed the first half.

The second half began with “Hai gia vinta la causa,” the Count’s famous recitative and aria from the third act of “Le Nozze di Figaro”. From the comfort he displayed in the role and the conviction he brought to it, one suspects that he has performed it in its entirety. If he hasn’t already, no doubt he will soon. With his tall stature and elegant good looks he would make a fine Count. Works by two composers from the first half of the twentieth century, Gerald Finzi and Francis Poulenc, followed. Then we returned to opera, with an impassioned performance of “L’orage s’est calmé” from Bizet’s “Les Pêcheurs des perles”. The concert ended brilliantly with the “Soliloquy” from “Carousel”. This piece represents a revolutionary moment in the American Musical Theater. It is far longer than the any show tune up until that time and contains elements of recitative and aria interspersed. It is worthy of inclusion in a recital of “serious” music, indeed when performed as well as it was on November 6 it is almost miraculous. The ecstatic crowd leapt to their feet in a well-deserved ovation. The rather topical encore was “Brother, can you spare a dime?”

by Barrett Cobb for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

Thomas Schultz, Piano

Thomas Schultz, piano

Weill Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

October 23, 2009

The announcement of pianist Thomas Schultz’s October New York recital stirred high hopes, as his outstanding 2006 performance had this reviewer waxing rhapsodic. Those hopes were met in some regards, but less so in others.

The first surprise came in the programming itself. Known for his adventurous mix of old and new and a keen sense of musical chemistry between works, on this occasion Mr. Schultz presented only two works, both in the mainstream literature and neither lacking a distinguished performance history; Schubert’s Sonata in B-flat, D.960, was the first half, and the Brahms Variations and Fugue on a Theme of Handel, Op. 24, was the second. While there is a fine line between a specialty and a pigeonhole, Mr. Schultz’s less well-known 20^th century works had been a huge plus in the prior program; Brahms and Schubert, on the other hand, set the recital up for comparison with numerous of the world’s greatest performances, and, on this particular evening he did not fare as well as one had hoped.

In his favor, Mr. Schultz exhibited in the Schubert the same genuine feeling and penchant for subtle, soft playing that this listener admired several years ago; unfortunately, though, the balance between registers was not quite controlled, and the melody, even in the beginning, was overwhelmed by accompaniment (lovely though it was). What seemed a style of intimacy a few years ago here seemed more a lack of projection. What had impressed as a patient, long-breathed style seemed here to need more differentiation (e.g., the left hand G octaves that punctuate the last movement, which were almost lackluster).

The Brahms Op. 24 faced similar issues, with the additional technical challenges that sometimes seemed to slow things down. One especially missed the surges in the twenty-third variation, building to the climax in the twenty-fifth that unleashes the Fugue.

Through it all, there were great moments and many glimmers of insight, but to bring the music to the audience Mr. Schultz might need to step outside the tonal world he seems to have internalized so well and project more.

by Rorianne Schrade for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

Stanislav Khristenko, Piano

Stanislav Khristenko, piano

October 15, 2009

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

Stanislav Khristenko, a Ukrainian pianist and first prize winner of the Virginia Waring international piano competition, made his New York recital debut recently in a thoughtful, focused, and ultimately successful concert at Weill Recital Hall. The pianist revealed deep reserves of artistry and professionalism as the evening progressed, saving his most incisive and colorful playing for the program-ender, five short pieces by Prokofiev.

There was an unusual sense of risk in the pianist’s choice of the Shostakovich first sonata, op. 12 to begin the program. As Mr. Khristenko was acclimatizing himself to his instrument and the hall during this sonata, he did not make a thoroughly convincing argument for this work’s value. His talent and technique were in evidence immediately, but he pushed the tempo and over pedaled in scale passages where more clarity would have been appreciated. While I respect the challenge, this composition would be easier to play and hear in a later spot on the program.

In Schubert’s Sonata, d. 958, the pianist again took time to find the right approach to this work, both technically and interpretively. The Steinway at Weill hall is weak in the middle register, and I could hear Mr. Khristenko struggling to produce a singing tone in the first movement without forcing the sound. His voicing was bass heavy initially and his rubato a little stiff until he hit his stride in the final two movements. Most especially, the tarantella was a delight–alive rhythmically, yet relaxed, sounding simultaneously Schubertian and Italianate.

By the second movement of the Schumann C Major Fantasy, which began the second half, Mr. Khristenko was in full control of all his resources and played with a maturity that belied his young age. The performance was organic from beginning to end, and one of the best I have heard of this difficult work. With the briefest of pauses, the pianist then launched headlong into the Prokofiev.

In these five excerpts from ten pieces, op. 12, Mr. Khristenko was completely in his métier. Each selection sparkled like a gem, honed to perfection. These would have been impressive performances from any artist, but they were all the more joyful from a pianist at the outset of his career.

Mr. Khristenko has the poise and intellect of a seasoned performer. Despite the fact that all his programming choices were not ideally suited to his temperament, I applaud his appetite for adventure and discovery.