The Ullmann Project-II in Review

The Ullmann Project-II in Review

The Ullmann Project-II
Dominique Hellsten, Artistic Director
Dominique Hellsten and Monique Niemi, sopranos; Jason Plourde and Will Robinson, baritones; Craig Ketter and Matthew Odell, pianists; Johannes Landgren, organist
Saint Peter’s Church-Citicorp Center, New York, NY
April 19, 2016

 

 

Dominique Hellsten continued her ardent advocacy for the music of Viktor Ullmann (1898-1944) with the second installment of her Ullmann Project. In the series, she situates Ullmann’s music in context with other contemporaries, including teachers, friends, fellow prison-camp inmates, and Anthroposophists, composers (Petr Eben (1929-2007), Erich Wolfgang Korngold (1897-1957), and Alexander Zemlinsky (1871-1942)), and poets. Ms. Hellsten chose the unusual venue of a church in order to be able to include striking works by Petr Eben for voice and organ and organ solo. The venue in fact led to a decreased sense of enjoyment on my part, which I will outline briefly before proceeding to compliment the performers on their committed renditions.

First: The hall’s acoustic is not conducive to speech, and really not to singing either. In the previous concert of this series, there had been a pre-concert talk, separate from the music. There was too much barely intelligible talking on this occasion. The acoustic devoured consonants too.

Second: The lighting was dreadful. It created dark “eye pits” on all the singers’ faces. Second only to the voice, eyes are the most expressive tool a singer has. This was a great shame.

Third: The superb collaborative pianists, Craig Ketter and Matthew Odell, had to contend with a shabby, out-of-tune, small grand piano. Only the excellent Swedish organist, Johannes Landgren, escaped unscathed; he was playing the church’s good instrument in the space for which it was designed.

There is a regrettable sameness to much of the music presented, unavoidable in music created in nearly the same time period, with late-Romantic influences predominant. Eben actually emerged as the most progressive voice—he survived his concentration camp internment. As Mr. Landgren told us, Eben held hands with his brother (both stripped naked) in a delousing shower, not knowing whether water or poison gas would come out of the shower heads. This led him to a spiritual epiphany that lasted the rest of his life.

Ullmann’s music, when heard in such quantity, seems to proceed a fitfully, with interesting ideas that too often remain undeveloped fully. Zemlinsky is definitely old-fashioned by comparison, and Korngold has his customary prodigious “sheen” and refinement, while not really adding anything new to musical vocabulary.

The evening began with six Geistliche (Spiritual) Lieder, Op. 20 by Ullmann, sung by Monique Niemi and assisted by Mr. Odell. She seemed somewhat stiff, though her voice was well-suited. The most interesting of the songs was the fourth: Marienlied, which ended on an unresolved major seventh.

Mr. Landgren then played the Mystery of Creation from a cycle of organ pieces by Eben called Job. It was indeed mysterious and striking, sounding a bit like a central-European Messiaen. Mr. Landgren then accompanied Ms. Hellsten in the Lied der Ruth, which despite its German title was sung in English. It was very good as well.

The first half of the program returned to Ullmann and his Drei Sonnette aus dem Portugiesischen, Op. 29 (words by Elizabeth Barrett Browning, translated by Rilke). They were in high expressionist style, a bit overwrought, with rousing high climaxes of passion in each. Ms. Hellsten’s élan was good, but each song had an unsatisfying ending (not her fault, but the composer’s).

After intermission, two baritones, Jason Plourde and Will Robinson, divided the twelve aphoristic songs Der Mensch und sein Tag (Ullmann’s Op. 47, composed in Terezín (Theresienstadt)). Mr. Plourde’s rendition of his six was excellent (somehow he managed clear diction), as was the support from Mr. Ketter. The songs are not even sentences, but brief, enigmatic strings of words, so great was the fear of accidentally transmitting a subversive message that could be picked up by the guards. The words depict random passing events of a day, and must have meant a great deal to those who heard them behind barbed wire fences. Mr. Robinson seemed too unrelievedly somber, his tone overly darkened.

Zemlinsky was represented by his Wedding-Dance and Other Songs (Op. 10), performed by Ms. Niemi, who seemed much more relaxed and charming here. All the singers used their arms in ways I found somewhat distracting, and they looked too serious or sad most of the time. There is virtue in standing still (not stiff!) and using your vocal tone and face to convey emotion. And again, had one been able to see their eyes, the story may have been different.

Ms. Hellsten returned to as she put it lighten the mood with Korngold’s lovely Three Songs, Op. 22. She understands the idiom beautifully, but the material really needs a fresher voice, like the character of Sophie from Richard Strauss’ Der Rosenkavalier.

The concert closed with more Eben: his Die Nomine Caecilie for organ and soprano (Mr. Landgren and Ms. Hellsten), a really good piece that worked for the performers and in the acoustic. Then Mr. Landgren played the Dance of Jephta’s Daughter from Four Biblical Dances by Eben. The storytelling was vivid: Jephta’s father had promised that if he was victorious in battle, he would kill the first person he saw upon his return—it was his own daughter, dancing to welcome him home.

These concerts are so valuable in presenting unusual and rarely-heard repertoire that I do not wish to discourage anyone involved. However, the choice of location is very important, and perhaps going “outside” the context for more variety would make for a more entertaining concert, one that doesn’t feel like a graduate school lecture-recital.

 

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by Frank Daykin  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents An Evening with Junior Chamber Music in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents An Evening with Junior Chamber Music in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents An Evening with Junior Chamber Music
Susan Boettger, executive director
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
Thursday, March 31, 2016

 

If Thursday’s concert of high-school age chamber musicians is any indication, the state of classical chamber music is very healthy in Southern California (and, I hope, elsewhere!). A large array of dedicated students, all excellently coached, performed a wide variety of repertoire with skill ranging from good to very good to “wow.”

For me, the two “wow” moments occurred in the last two works on the program. First, an astonishingly mature string quartet who performed the first movement of Grieg’s rarely heard String Quartet in G minor, Op. 27. The players (Jason Corbin, Alisa Luera, David Noble, and Jonathan Kim) created a fierce, plush, ensemble sound that would be the envy of many a mature professional group; they breathed and phrased perfectly together; and they managed to make Grieg’s somewhat rambling structure sound inevitable and musically coherent and compelling.

The other “wow” moment was provided by a piano four-hand team (incorrectly listed as two-piano in the program) playing the duet transcription of Ravel’s La Valse made by Ravel’s friend Lucien Garban. This team (Nicholas Mendez and Yoko Rosenbaum) played with all the flair and assurance of a professional piano duo, fabulously unified. Their comprehension of this difficult score was superb; the only quality lacking was a bit more freedom, Viennese upbeat, lilt, and charm. Nevertheless, a definite “wow.”

Other highlights included: a fleet, precise rendition of the final movement of Beethoven’s First Piano Trio; cellist William Ellzey’s excellent communication skill in the first movement of Brahms’ Trio for Clarinet, Cello and Piano; Martinů’s Sonata for Flute, Violin and Piano; the first movement of Schoenfield’s Café Music; Raymond Newell’s cello in the Brahms Second Cello Sonata (although someone should tell him to acknowledge his excellent piano partner during the bows!).

Sometimes the age of the participants showed in a lack of either musical maturity or a partial misunderstanding of or inability to inhabit fully the emotional message of the selected repertoire. However, the fact that they are playing such difficult material with technical fluency is in itself a thing to behold (and support).

Mendelssohn’s Second Piano Trio excerpt was slightly mechanical; the Ravel Piano Trio excerpt was marred by a lack of depth and flexibility, as well as quite a few wrong notes I took to be misreadings (and not due to nerves), and a lack of interpersonal communication; the Shostakovich mad romp (second movement of his Second Piano Trio) was too heavy, which made it sound too slow, and didn’t have the requisite irony/terror.

Please take these evaluations as suggestions, and don’t stop studying and making fine music. I wish I had had these opportunities when I was a young student. I salute you all, and your fine teachers, coaches, and schools.

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by Frank Daykin  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Vocal Colors in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Vocal Colors in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Vocal Colors
The Music of Ivo Antognini
Ivo Antognini, visiting composer
Distinguished Concerts Singers International from Lee’s Summit High School Concert Choir and Kearney Chamber Choir (Missouri), Jerry McCoy, director
Khorikos, Alec Galambos, assistant director
Alice Tully Hall at Lincoln Center, New York
March 22, 2016

 

Khorikos, are you listening? I don’t mean to each other, I mean to me . . . I’m a huge fan! Previous to this concert, I had not known of your work. You had me at “Christ,” the first word of the first selection, Bach’s chorale Christ ist erstanden, BWV 276. What ecstatic excellence poured out of this small group, which stood in a humble semicircle of two rows, in front of the risers. They sang selections from six centuries of a cappella music, in six different languages, with such purity and passion. I can’t recall the last time I attended a vocal event this good—and I’ve been swimming in a spring season full of choral concerts, all of which have had their “moments.”

Ranging from the Renaissance to the twenty-first century, their repertoire is perfectly rendered at all times. There is an interesting nuance they do a lot, consisting of a note (or chord) that “travels,” what I mean by that is, it doesn’t hold still on a white, pure sound, but a sort of urgent crescendo is placed on it, which varies according to the needs of the composer, text, and/or phrase. It could have become mannered, but was deployed with such musical wisdom that I now wonder why all choirs don’t do this.

The Rautavaara Avuksihuutopsalmi had a wonderful choral glissando (in an upward direction) that occurred in each verse. If you’ve never sung in a choir, you have no idea how difficult that is to execute with everyone landing on the desired chord in tune.

The two Italian works (Monteverdi and Gesualdo madrigals) were stunning. They were followed by American composer Samuel Barber’s rarely heard Three Reincarnations, the first and third of which were conducted by an uncredited man other than Mr. Galambos. The third, The Coolin, was particularly moving. Guillermo Martínez’s No llora, paloma mia was a tour de force, with discreet narration and all manner of vocal effects. Khorikos closed with a lively number (unusual for Arvo Pärt), and the audience leapt to its feet.

After intermission, two high school choirs from Missouri took to the risers, and were conducted by the excellent Jerry McCoy. They sang music of only one composer: the Swiss Ivo Antognini, who writes in a conservative idiom, but with high-quality, spiking his choral music with juicy clusters and smudges of tone and usually resolving everything by the final chord. In fact, my only (minor) suggestion to Mr. Antognini would be to vary his endings a bit more. I’d love to hear something “less” triadic as an ending, maybe more dissonant, more questioning . . .

The selections were mainly sacred, with five in Latin and two in English. His Ubi caritas, a classic medieval text that has been set notably by Maurice Duruflé and Paul Mealor, was stunning. Mr. McCoy delivered a verbal program note that it was dedicated to the “people in Belgium” in light of the previous day’s attack.

Throughout each work, the choir performed so well, it would have been the envy of many a professional group. Every nuance was audible, and the dynamic range was well-varied and large; so often massed-choirs fall victim to a generic loudness.

The Victorian-era paean to self-reliance and perseverance Invictus, which is hard for me to stomach as a poem, but did offer comfort to Nelson Mandela during his long years of imprisonment, was actually very convincing in Mr. Antognini’s setting. Perhaps I need to re-examine the poem!

The group closed with Canticum Novum (Sing unto the Lord a new song, Psalm 98), with energy, excitement and beauty. What a gift DCINY gave us on Tuesday night!

 

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by Frank Daykin  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Sounds of a New Generation in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Sounds of a New Generation in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Sounds of a New Generation-An Evening with James Martin High School, Arlington, TX
Martin High School Chorale, Kay Owens, Director; Martin Wind Symphony, Brad McCann, Director; Martin High School Symphony Orchestra, Michael Stringer, Director
Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
March 21, 2016

Maybe everything really is bigger in Texas, including the hearts of high-school musicians and their music educators. Such a fine evening of choral, band, and orchestral music was presented on Monday, March 21, and it was supported throughout by loud acclamation from parents, friends, and co-students that filled Carnegie Hall in what will certainly remain a vivid memory for their whole lives.

The concert began with the Martin High School Chorale, under the expert leadership of Kay Owens, a thirty-three year veteran of choral music. Brent Pierce’s Hosanna in Excelsis provided the perfect opening, energetic and glamorous, but with nuance, announcing the credentials of the group.

Other highlights were: By the Waters of Babylon by Edwin Fissinger, the moving text involved whispering, which imparted a mysterious quality to the whole. Dúlamán by Michael McGlynn followed, using only the male voices. It is an Irish seaweed-gathering chanty from the potato-famine era. Then the female voices had their turn with Hope Is . . . by Randy Jordan, its Emily Dickinson poem sensitively rendered. By the way, the choral diction was crystal clear all evening, no small accomplishment.

This part of the program closed with the inspirational It Takes a Village by Joan Szymko, with a small ensemble of boys taken from the choir to solo, and also using a few traditional African percussion instruments.

After DCINY’s famous “brief pause,” the Martin High School Wind Symphony, conducted by Brad McCann, tackled one of the pillars of the repertoire: Hindemith’s Symphonic Metamorphosis on Themes by Carl Maria von Weber. Although from where I was seated the first section (Allegro) was a bit cloudy in texture, I didn’t know whether to blame Hindemith or the young players. However, the second and fourth movements were absolutely crisp and exciting, and the somber third movement was also very good.

After intermission, the Martin High School Symphony Orchestra appeared, although it wasn’t conducted by its billed music director until the third selection. First, an uncredited woman led the group in Dvořák’s well-known Carnival Overture. I did feel it was played too fast for clarity in the hall’s acoustic, but the second theme area showed astonishing maturity in the phrasing of the strings and the overall burnished tone one usually finds only in professional adult groups. The quiet central section, scored more like chamber music, gave ample opportunity for solo wind players to shine.

A different woman then took the stage and led the orchestra in a string rendition of Puccini’s pop-iconic aria for tenor, Nessun dorma, from his opera Turandot. Yes, I know Aretha Franklin sang it at the Grammys one year, but this prospect of an aria shorn of its words I was not looking forward to. However, once again, those strings showed a great maturity and passion in what they were given to work with, although one missed the squillo of a fine Italian tenor (and the expansion of the tempo) for the “Vincerò!” exultant cries at the end.

Finally, Michael Stringer came out to direct the Finale from Rachmaninoff’s ill-fated and not often performed Symphony No. 1 in D minor, Op. 13. This work caused such consternation in Rachmaninoff’s teachers and peers that it almost caused him a complete nervous breakdown, and did lead to a several-year hiatus from composing. The orchestra played the difficult passages and abrupt transitions with which this music abounds with rhythmic clarity. Even their enthusiasm couldn’t help it totally though, and I found myself at times agreeing with Glazunov that it was incoherent. But let me add that’s not the fault of Martin High, who delivered completely appropriate high-wattage bombast.

James Meaders, conductor and now associate director of DCINY then led the group, plus full choir in two movements (The Spheres [Kyrie] and Sunrise [Gloria]) of Ola Gjeilo’s Sunrise Mass, the second time I’ve heard this work in less than one month. This must be Mr. Gjeilo’s “moment,” and it’s a good thing. As I sat listening to music that was now familiar to me, I couldn’t help but marveling: was I really hearing a better performance than the one earlier in the month by adult choirs and a professional orchestra? By golly, I was! The choral singing was superb, and the blend of orchestra and choir was perfect. Dynamic shadings were stunning, and the whole enterprise held up the promise of mystical involvement not only with religion, but with all of nature.

A final, sort of “built-in” encore was the Gloria by Randol Alan Bass, which despite committed playing and singing sounded rather trite after the glories of the Gjeilo.

The concert was dedicated to the memory of Taylor Renee Helland, a 19-year-old cancer patient (and 2014 graduate of Martin High), who just passed away in February. Her mantra was “choose joy” and that’s what the musicians did. What a beautiful tribute for her friends to make music with such youthful passion. Thank you, Martin High.

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by Frank Daykin  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Total Vocal in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Total Vocal in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Total Vocal
Deke Sharon, conductor and host
Chrissie Fit and Hannah Juliano, guest soloists
Andrew Fitzpatrick, guest vocal percussionist
The Filharmonic, Vocalosity, Highlands Voices, Stay Tuned, featured choirs
Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
March 20, 2016

The second installment of Total Vocal made its energetic appearance on Sunday, March 20 at Carnegie Hall. Deke Sharon, the affable leader of this enterprise, is the pre-eminent arranger, conductor, and promoter of contemporary a cappella choir singing in this country. All but one of the arrangements belonged to Mr. Sharon. His skill is as boundless as his youthful energy, bouncing on stage in his sneakers: he seems as young as the high school kids he works with. Capitalizing on the success of The Sing-Off, the Pitch Perfect movies, and even Glee, the growth of these groups nation- (and world-) wide has been explosive: from 200 when Mr. Sharon began (twenty years ago), to over 3000 today.

The program fell into two parts: that prior to intermission featured a younger-age massed choir made of groups from all over the country and Canada. Their music was, one might say, relentlessly cheerful, with a certain sameness to a lot of it, perhaps a limitation of their age. But their enthusiasm knew no limits whatsoever, and the high-energy was electric. Their bodies were wonderfully free, moving along with all the music, even when they weren’t singing. A slight flaw to me was that the amplification of the female soloists made a lot of them sound alike. A group of 11- to 16-year olds called Chamber Bravura did a fine rendition of “Mercy.” The all-female “Key of She” group was very moving in “True Colors.” The song “Try,” with the excellent Chrissie Fit and the Highlands Voices and Stay Tuned groups, finally revealed some adolescent angst about the dangers of selling out just to fit in and be liked.

After intermission, the massed choir shifted its demographic slightly older, to include young adults and professionals. Choirs from Google (Googapella), Facebook (The Vocal Network), and Twitter (Songbirds) played key roles, with Mr. Sharon remarking that there is in fact time (even for the workaholics of Silicon Valley) to make music. A marvelous summation of the history of a cappella music (another Sharon arrangement) took place disguised as a medley of Beatles songs. Hannah Juliano was the super-strong soloist in Adele’s first hit “Chasing Pavements”: her proud mother (in the audience) was also an a cappella choir singer, back when Deke Sharon was just starting out.

The “tech” groups mentioned above scored a timely message with their version of “Video Killed the Radio Star,” which was updated to the “Internet,” and featured the choir members taking the unavoidable selfies of each other while singing.

Not to be forgotten: the amazing “vocal percussion” (commonly called beat-boxing) of Andrew Fitzpatrick, also known as 80Fitz. There would seem to be no sound he can’t make with this mouth, lips, and throat. Truly, a one-man orchestra. This carried over into many of the arrangements as well, lest one think that in a choir it’s all “just singing,” they utilize any sound that can be made without instruments other than the human voice.

Although Mr. Sharon called the song “Close to You” and the Carpenters “cheesy,” I’d remind him that it was Bacharach/David who wrote it; and the velvet-voiced (but tragic) Karen Carpenter wasn’t cheesy. The female side of the choir sang it with beautiful sensitivity, and Mr. Sharon dedicated the performance to his wife, who couldn’t attend.

Mr. Sharon himself soloed in front of his well-trained group (who had only worked with him for two days prior to the concert) in a deep-jazz, complex arrangement of one of Sinatra’s biggest hits, Jimmy Van Heusen’s “Come Fly with Me.”

Another sensation, the all-Filipino male group The Filharmonic sang “Flashlight” with flair, showing why they did so well in the Sing-Off. That was followed by the male side of the choir rendering John Legend’s (formerly John Stephens) “All of Me.”

For a stomping conclusion, Sharon led the choir AND audience in Lionel Richie’s “All Night Long,” with choir members from the first half coming down all the aisles and leading everyone. A built-in encore was the audience’s rendition of “The Lion Sleeps Tonight.”

It is so good to see young people engaging their musical and emotional skills in this way. Keep it up, America, and Mr. Sharon: Bravo!

 

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by Frank Daykin  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Legato Arts presents Lin/Castro-Balbi Duo-20th Anniversary Celebration “From the Old World” in Review

Legato Arts presents Lin/Castro-Balbi Duo-20th Anniversary Celebration “From the Old World” in Review

Legato Arts presents Lin/Castro-Balbi Duo-20th Anniversary Celebration “From the Old World”
Jesús Castro-Balbi, cello; Gloria Lin, piano
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
March 6, 2016

 

A large and appreciative audience came to hear an excellent cello/piano duo recital on a chilly late winter Sunday. Gloria Lin, pianist, and Jesús Castro-Balbi, cellist, are married, and each of them teaches at Texas Christian University. Whether or not being spouses assisted in the perfection of their ensemble, it certainly didn’t detract from it. They have been playing together for twenty years now. The husband graciously gives primacy to his wife in having the first name of the duo.

This was a sort of “reverse” recital, with the second part longer than the first part. In fact the only work prior to intermission, though not “small,” was Chopin’s Cello Sonata in G minor, Op. 65. To my ears, the only miscalculation was the use of the short stick on the piano. I know cellists fear balance issues, but the glorious piano writing had a muffled quality, never truly achieving fortissimo climaxes when needed, or even (gasp!) over-balancing the cello. Yes, in this piece by an avowedly awkward writer of chamber music, but who was the greatest pianist of his time, sometimes the piano actually needs to predominate. Both players spun out the dense late-Chopin textures with purpose and, usually, elegance. Mr. Castro-Balbi’s phrasing was very personal and convincing; he possesses a beautiful vibrato and legato, with ample use of slides. In fact, I wished he had used the legato more, as there were some odd moments of detached playing, where a longer singing line would have suited better. The third movement: Largo, was a gorgeous, meditative gem in their hands.

After intermission, it seems a different, looser, more dynamic duo took the stage. The pair played Martinů’s Cello Sonata No. 2, H. 286. Here, Ms. Lin provided crisp, clear, exciting, and meticulous articulation in the difficult first movement, and throughout. This performance made a somewhat difficult work easily graspable to the many listeners who I’m sure had never heard it before. They achieved tragic grandeur in the slow movement.

Joaquín Nin’s Seguida Española is not often heard, but it should be. It’s charms are based on folk songs and dances, and although some of it seemed derivative of de Falla’s Siete canciones populares españolas, one regretted the brevity not only of each movement, but of the whole. Beautifully done.

The duo concluded with Castelnuovo-Tedesco’s difficult riot of a romp based on the famous aria from Rossini’s Il Barbiere di Siviglia: “Largo al factotum.” Although this aria even wound up in a Looney Tunes episode, there was nothing cartoonish about the rendition here. In fact, not only was the technique and ensemble perfect, but the players exhibited an all-too-rare quality in many of today’s music makers: genuine wit.

They favored the enthusiastic audience with an encore from the aforementioned de Falla folk song set: the poignant “Nana,” which had everything, haunting in its spontaneous phrasing by Mr. Castro-Balbi. Here’s to twenty more years at least!

 

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by Frank Daykin  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Between Heaven and Earth in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Between Heaven and Earth in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Between Heaven and Earth
Distinguished Concerts Orchestra and Distinguished Concerts Singers International
James M. Meaders, DCINY Associate Artistic Director and Conductor, Tom Shelton, Guest Conductor, Richard Sparks, Guest Conductor
Jolaine Kerley, soprano; Timothy J. Anderson, narrator
Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
March 7, 2016

The massed-choir events presented by Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) generally have a very high level of music making and popular success. Monday’s concert was quite a mixed-bag, gathered under the title mentioned above. The singers come from eight states and six foreign countries and are prepared by their individual local conductors before traveling to New York to combine with many other choirs.

The first one-third of the evening was devoted to seven selections for a huge youth choir, containing all age groups from small boys up to high schoolers. They were led efficiently by Tom Shelton, who also made some of the rather slick arrangements. The selections were not performed in the order listed on the program, and one was left out entirely. Perhaps I shouldn’t evaluate this performance with the same rigor I would apply to a professional choir. Surprisingly, the enormous group had trouble actually projecting, except when the vocal writing allowed the voices to soar to higher notes, where one could enjoy the characteristic gleam of such an age-group. The repertoire extended from modern sacred, to Baroque, folk-inspired (Stephen Hatfield’s moving Family Tree), even Italian madrigal. The exciting Ritmo by Dan Davison involved not only singing, but clapping, stomping, finger-snaps, chest thumps, and marching in place—a veritable encyclopedia of eurhythmics, accompanied by piano four-hands (the very capable Matthew Webb, assisted by his page turner).

Several instrumental solos were featured: trumpeters Anna Roman and Jesdelson Vasquez; and flutist Tamar Benami, as well as a fearless (uncredited) choir member for the concluding Go Down Moses. The performance certainly brought pleasure to the many parents and friends of the singers in the audience, and it is good to see young people (a) learning music at all, and (b) working together on something instead of the relentless isolating march of the cell phone.

After the infamous “brief pause” to shift huge choirs (only ten minutes this time), conductor Richard Sparks led a new chorus, narrator, and soprano, with a small ensemble of piano, organ, two oboes, two French horns, and a percussion assemblage, in the New York premiere of Toronto-based composer Allan Bevan’s Nou Goth Sonne Under Wode. The composer also played his own organ part. This work takes many of the sentiments in the traditional crucifixion scene Stabat Mater and ramps up the grief until a sort of transfiguration occurs to Mary, who then sings a concluding Alleluia. The choral writing relies too heavily on musical clichés of mourning, aiming for monumentality, but the whole was very sincere. The O Vos Omnes section was particularly successful. The part for narrator was a bit odd, sometimes too soft despite amplification. There were other moments when the chorus, narrator, and soloist were drowned out, despite the small instrumental ensemble size. The valiant soprano was the very good Jolaine Kerley, whose clarity and expression were top-notch. She wisely chose to just stop singing the climactic loud high D-flat (her last note) before it gave out entirely, just keeping her mouth open and letting the choral resonance fool you into thinking she was still singing it. Smart lady, this trick was sometimes employed by the likes of Elisabeth Schwarzkopf.

After intermission, James Meaders, one of DCINY’s associate artistic directors, conducted yet another two-hundred-plus singers and large string orchestra in the Sunrise Mass by the young Norwegian composer Ola Gjeilo. This was by far the most beautiful and intriguing work on the program. He set the traditional Latin texts of the Mass, but gave each section a title having to do with the (usually) natural world: The Spheres (Kyrie), Sunrise (Gloria), The City (Credo), Identity (Sanctus) & The Ground (Agnus Dei). His use of tone clusters and overlapping chords makes the musical language seem more modern than it really is, but very beautiful. In The Spheres, motives that are first heard “smudging” into each other are later presented cleanly as a melody by the choir. The work is also cyclic, that is, themes heard are reused elsewhere in the work, a time-honored technique and one that gives unity. There is perhaps a bit of over-reliance on stock “minimalist” gestures in the string parts. The final chord of the piece, on the word Pacem (peace) was stunning in its hushed quality, held for a very, very appropriate long time.

Perhaps music is what’s “between heaven and earth.”

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by Frank Daykin  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Legato Arts presents Sean Botkin in Review

Legato Arts presents Sean Botkin in Review

Legato Arts Presents Sean Botkin, piano
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
February 24, 2016

Beauty and frustration are often lifelong companions of the artist—and also of the reviewer. Thus were my thoughts last evening at the powerful performance given by pianist Sean Botkin. I will confess that when I saw the program, including four mainstream composers, I was afraid it might be unimaginative. However, Mr. Botkin did program two rarities by two of them: Prokofiev’s First Sonata and Rachmaninoff’s First Sonata. The Russians clearly suit his type of pianism, and he has an affinity for them.

Every time I tended to get annoyed by a patch of sound that was too unrelievedly massive or too loud, then something sublime would occur, and I could forgive all. If I had any suggestion to make to this obviously well-equipped pianist, it would be: It is more interesting to “draw the listener in” to your sound world and the music, rather than to “push the music out” to them. This type of over-projection reminds me very much of “old-school” Juilliard thinking.

Mr. Botkin began with the Prokofiev, his Opus 1, written at age sixteen, revised a couple years later, and obviously well-thought of enough that it is included in his complete sonata corpus. Botkin played with controlled passion—there was lovely elasticity in the cadences and where the composer has indicated ritardando. The tone quality was beautiful, never bangy, and his architectural sense made this uncharacteristic work sound better than it actually is, albeit a bit blustery.

Mr. Botkin then followed with one of the great middle-period Beethoven sonatas, the G major, Op. 31 No. 1. It was in the Adagio grazioso middle movement that some of the loveliest playing of the whole evening occurred. He handled the extravagant pre-Rossinian operatic lines and accompaniments with sensitivity and elegance—his trill ability is miraculously even. However, in the first movement, he didn’t seem to emphasize the parodic element: Beethoven was either mocking a string quartet whose first violinist played before everyone else, or a pianist whose hands couldn’t play together, inverting the usual “left-hand before right.” It lacked impish humor. “However” however: he did scrupulously observe every single phrasing and articulation marking, even the ones that are less than convenient for the interpreter. The Rondo finale, was played too fast for a true Allegretto, despite Schindler’s unreliable testimony (as always) that it was to be played Allegro.

The first part of the recital concluded with a headlong performance of Chopin’s Fourth Scherzo, Op. 54 in E major. Here, in the sorrowful middle section, was the other highlight of the evening for me—absolutely gorgeous, intimate, lyrical playing. The outer sections lacked transparency and, for lack of a more politically correct word: “anima.” It was aggressive rather than elegant, and the harmonic shifts were not savored with sufficient sensuality.

After intermission, Mr. Botkin tackled the daunting and huge First Sonata by Rachmaninoff, the one the composer himself said that no one would ever play. Mr. Botkin has recorded it, and his mastery is evident in every passage, as is his clear point of view, again emphasizing power, volume, and big-line architecture over other aspects. Rachmaninoff had originally underscored the music with thoughts of a “program” dealing with the Faust legend: with Faust, Gretchen, and Mephistopheles symbolized in the three movements. It is a sort of concerto or symphony “manqué,” with all the unwieldiness that implies.

Mr. Botkin took a freely improvisatory approach to the beginning, with a sort of giant feeling of “leading-in” instead of a metrical obedience. Certainly this is one viable way to do it, however, one wonders if the basic rhythm of the “Faust motto” would have benefited from more discipline. Also ignored (I’m sure it was intentional, all part of his concept) were numerous dynamics, all on the softer side. Where I was sitting, there wasn’t much played below mezzo-forte, and all the louder passages were “scaled up.” This sort of sound tires the ear after a while, and the piece is long. This is not to say that he didn’t have beautiful lyrical moments, because he did. He was playing so strongly however, that the unisons of the piano’s strings were progressively going out of tune (first noticed in the Chopin, it got a lot worse later). I feared that he wouldn’t have anywhere left to go for the true fff on the final page of the last movement, but by golly he did. The sound impressed a lot of people, but to me it seemed like the distortion when a stereo is turned up too loud.

I predict good things for Mr. Botkin. I certainly don’t wish him to take my detailed listening habits and preferences for anything definitive or negative. But please, do think of varying your sound palate even more. There is incalculable charisma in charming the listener’s ears, and always making people think that you have something in reserve, that you are never at the outer limit of what you can do. And thank you for providing a correct program with program notes. Next time: an encore?

 

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by Frank Daykin  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Mozart Mealor Martin: Music of Joy and Sadness in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Mozart Mealor Martin: Music of Joy and Sadness in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Mozart Mealor Martin: Music of Joy and Sadness
Distinguished Concerts Orchestra and Distinguished Concerts Singers International
Vance Y. George, James Jordan, and Joseph Martin, Conductors
Penelope Shumate, soprano; Krysty Swann, mezzo-soprano; Youngbae Yang, tenor; Jeremy Milner, bass-baritone
Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
February 15, 2016

 

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) continued its record of inspirational massed-choral and orchestra concerts, “changing lives through the power of performance,” as their motto states. It is truly a credit to the many individual local choral conductors who prepared these groups that came from all over the US, UK, Austria, and New Zealand, and had but a short time to work out a polished interpretation with all the other choirs, orchestra, and the “real” conductor. It is good to see that these individual conductors are given their own bow(s) after their groups have performed.

The concert was presented in inverse order of its title, hence Martin, Mealor, Mozart. A rather long group of faith- and patriotic-based material, all composed by Joseph Martin (one Irving Berlin arrangement) and conducted by him, opened the program on a suitably upbeat note. If the music wasn’t surprisingly original, it certainly was very pleasing and accessible for community choirs. This particular group of over two hundred had a surprisingly difficult time making itself heard over the full orchestrations, when singing at or below mezzo-forte. When singing by themselves however, the full volume passages were appropriately thrilling, although diction was fuzzy.

Would it be churlish to mention that these mass-choir events require a great deal of stage management, moving one group of two hundred off the risers, moving the next group on, etc. and that this stretches the times of the programs quite a bit? Perhaps this process could be streamlined. And please credit the excellent orchestra by listing its players; they play beautifully. After a very long “brief pause” listed in the program, came the stunning success of the evening: Paul Mealor’s Stabat Mater.

Let me go out on a limb here and state that when I die, if there “is” a heaven, I want it to sound like the music of Paul Mealor. I, like millions across the world, first heard his music in the form of the delicious Ubi caritas that was sung at the 2011 royal wedding of Prince William and Kate Middleton. Mr. Mealor has a way of conveying a divine radiance with his harmonies—although firmly anchored in traditional tonality, his way with a “cluster” creates a sort of spiritual “smudge” (he even mentions incense as an aid to worship, a high Anglican tradition) that is incredibly mysterious and moving.

The Stabat Mater, a portrait of the sorrowful mother of Jesus at the foot of the cross, hits all the satisfying points one could wish, and does not remain mired only in the pain of the scene, but progresses to acceptance, hope, and faith. The work is dedicated to Mr. Mealor’s grandparents. The conductor for this work was James Jordan (disclaimer: an alumnus of one of my alma maters: Westminster Choir College). We also share many of the same mentors in choral conducting. Of course credentials are worthless unless put into practice, and wow, were they ever put into practice. His choir sang with an infinite variety of color and dynamic contrasts, razor sharp diction despite the size of the group, and great emotion. The soprano soloist, the excellent Penelope Shumate (doing double duty in the Mozart Requiem) soared above the choir with her descant, which seemed the embodiment of light. The audience, after a transcendent and respectful silence at the end, erupted into a well-deserved standing ovation. The ensemble remained on stage for the World Premiere of a short, boisterous work Jubilate Deo, also by Mr. Mealor.

After intermission, the Mozart Requiem was conducted by Vance George, with yet another choral assembly of about two hundred. Here, the size of the choir was truly a liability. George took some quite brisk tempi that are utterly justified in light of historically-informed performance practice, but that a large choir would have trouble rendering distinctly. Again, the orchestra seemed louder than the choir, quite an accomplishment. There were numerous discrepancies of ensemble, and one false start, discreetly and rapidly remedied. The four soloists did not benefit from being separated: the two men stage left, the ladies stage right. This creates an automatic deficit in the feeling for cooperation. Ms. Shumate was joined by a fabulous mezzo-soprano, new to me, Krysty Swann, whose plumy tone was natural, never forced, and whose musicality was beautiful. The men fared somewhat less well: tenor Youngbae Yang certainly sang all the notes without strain, but without obvious emotional connection; and the bass-baritone Jeremy Milner made a stereotypically wooly, dark sound, and was out of tune in his “big” moment, the first phrase of the Tuba mirum (miraculous trumpet), which was fully a half-step too high by the end, while the trombone which symbolizes this summoning miracle messed up the arpeggios underneath the singer.

I don’t wish to carp, perhaps it was an off night for Mr. Milner, or for the choir, it is hard to wait backstage through a long concert—it certainly didn’t deter the enthusiasm of the many friends and family members of these dedicated singers who were present in the audience. After all, the motto of one of the Martin pieces “E pluribus unum” (out of many, one) could be taken as the way these singers and choirs come together as well. Truly inspiring.

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by Frank Daykin  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Composers Now Festival and CUNY Diversity Projects Development Fund present “Eastern Currents” with Ensemble 365 in Review

Composers Now Festival and CUNY Diversity Projects Development Fund present “Eastern Currents” with Ensemble 365 in Review

 Composers Now Festival and CUNY Diversity Projects Development Fund
present “Eastern Currents” with Ensemble 365
Sara Paar, soprano; Karen Rostron, violin; Alice Jones, flute; Marta Bedkowska-Reilly, cello; Mirna Lekić, piano
Tenri Cultural Institute, New York, NY
February 13, 2016

A hardy band of two dozen or so listeners braved the coldest night in one hundred years to attend a well-played program of non-standard music from the “Asian and Arab” worlds. The players in Ensemble 365 met while graduate students at CUNY in 2011, and their unity shows. Each is a very good individual artist, and they combine excellently as well.

Two works by a female composer from Azerbaijan, Franghiz Ali-Zadeh, were presented: Three Watercolors (1987) for voice and ensemble (including prepared piano). Only three of the movements contained the voice, the others were Prelude, Interlude, and Postlude for piano. The excellent soprano Sara Paar was sensitive to every expression in the text, by female Azerbaijani poet Nigyar Rafibeili. Ms. Ali-Zadeh’s second work was heard after intermission: the Music for Piano, with a glass-bead necklace placed over some of the strings, to give the impression of a folk-instrument (mugam). Mirna Lekic’s piano sound was beautiful, even when she played in the register with the necklace, and her rhythmic acuity gave subtle energy to every gesture. I’m sure many members of the audience, sitting in the chilly space of the Tenri Cultural Institute, could identify with the lines: “My soul is like the earth,/Awaiting the radiant springtime . . .”

Duo for flute and cello (2012) by Karim Al-Zand (Tunisian, but raised in Ottawa, Canada) consisted of three short movements, with the cello deliberately “mistuned” (scordatura) in the first section Musette, to mimic a drone instrument. The finale, Snapdragon, had great drive and an exciting conclusion.

In many ways, the conventionality of Arno Babadjanian (Armenian, influenced by Rachmaninoff/Khatchaturian) provided the weakest music of the night. The Larghetto of his Piano Trio in F Sharp Minor (1952) was pretty and lyrical, but it meandered, and did not seem to have the same expressive urgency that the other composers exhibited. Perhaps it would have benefited from being heard in context, between the other two movements of the complete trio.

The evening concluded with two sets of songs, again with the pure-voiced Ms. Paar, accompanied by Ms. Lekić and (in the second set) piano trio, by Ramin Heydarbeygi, who was present, and provided verbal program notes to his own music. The first set Astvihad was commissioned by Ensemble 365 in 2012. The six poems, in modern Persian (Gathic or old Avestan) all deal with death (the demon of death as conceived in the Iranian/Zoroastrian tradition), yet they were not wallowing in somber music, but rather had a sort of contained fury, appropriate to the subject.

The second set of songs Aramesh (2015) dealt with the theme of exile, and the poet of the third song Ruminations of a Tree, Dayani, was also present at the concert. The exile theme remains relevant in an age that sees massive displacement from the Middle East (Syria). How pleased both poet and musician must have been. Ensemble 365 has commissioned over 150 works, and they provide valuable and persuasive advocacy for music which would certainly otherwise languish. Bravi.

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by Frank Daykin  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY