Barber Reconsidered in Review

Barber Reconsidered in Review

Barber Reconsidered: Celebrating Samuel Barber’s 105th Anniversary
Maxim Anikushin, pianist, organist, harpsichordist, carilloneur; Eric Silberger, violin; Thelma Ithier-Sterling, soprano
Bruno Walter Auditorium, New York Library for the Performing Arts at Lincoln Center, New York, NY
September 26, 2015

 

Pianist Maxim Anikushin offered a lecture recital, exploring little known works by Samuel Barber, featuring both live and recorded performances on piano, organ, harpsichord, and carillon, as well as some videography. His multiple talents are undeniable, as is his enthusiasm for the material. The bulk of the program consisted of lots of small juvenilia from Barber’s childhood (as early as age seven) and adolescence. Perhaps, Barber knew best, however, never releasing these pieces for general publication, for they don’t really add much to our reverence for this iconic composer, and are mainly of academic interest.

Mr. Anikushin opened with the solo version of the Souvenirs, Op. 28. This was the only non-juvenile work, one that is pretty well-known to piano duos. Barber stated that he wished to evoke the charming music of the Palm Court at the Plaza Hotel. When done in the original four-hand, one piano version, more charm and intimacy are possible, and the genre emerges for what it is. Mr. Anikushin was most successful in the pathos-laden Pas de deux, and his tempo and lightness in the Two-step was a marvel to witness. Elsewhere, the music sounded a bit stiff (the solo pianist does have an awful lot to do) and needed a great deal more charm and flexibility.

There followed Three Themes (1923), a Menuetto, Andante religioso, and Allegretto on C, none of which revealed much originality, with a mélange of Classical styles as models. The Petite Berceuse (1923) had a poignant lyrical idea that repeated itself, each time landing on a novel harmony. The Essay II (1926) was more interesting in its adoption of certain “brutalist” gestures, possibly influenced by Stravinsky, as Mr. Anikushin pointed out in his remarks. Barber was fond of the concept of a musical “essay,” and named three mature orchestral works “Essay” as well. Two more childhood compositions: Sadness, and Lullaby (these were the age seven and nine works), were rather square. The Lullaby at least displayed ingenious cross-hand work, showing pianistic ingenuity, if not exceptional musical precocity.

Maxim Anikushin and Horace Gibson

Maxim Anikushin and Horace Gibson

Then came one of the most interesting byways of the concert: a three-movement Suite for Carillon (1930/33). Mr. Anikushin learned to play the carillon in several prominent locations in the U.S. (they all vary wildly in pitch and the weight of the wooden mallets one has to depress to activate the bells), following in Barber’s footsteps as an avid carilloneur. The sonority, accompanied by the clever video shot from the tower of New York’s Riverside Church, was lovely, inducing reverie in this post-Papal-visit New Yorker.

After intermission, Mr. Anikushin’s talent as an organist and harpsichordist was displayed. In a fragment of an intended Partita on a Bach chorale, all we heard was the Bach portion, which didn’t say much about Barber. Nor did the Fugue No. 5 from Five Fugues. The Canon No. 4 played on piano (then again on organ), a scant, busy, and difficult twenty-five seconds long, was accompanied by a whimsical video of a live bat that had entered Mr. Anikushin’s apartment.

The only completed movement from a Violin/Piano Sonata (1928) was given an excellent, passionate reading by the big-toned, bold romantic playing of Eric Silberberg and Mr. Anikushin. Their ensemble was excellent, and they managed to “paper over” some of the meanderings of the youthful Barber. They followed this with a “Gypsy Dance,” from an opera planned by Barber when he was twelve (The Rose Tree), which sounded mainly like warmed-over Fritz Kreisler in its inclusion of folkloric musical gestures.

The recital closed with a charming set of songs (again very early compositions), sung with expressive meaning and delicacy by Thelma Ithier-Sterling. The most shimmering, beautiful playing of the afternoon was Mr. Anikushin’s work as collaborative pianist in these songs, which didn’t venture much above “parlor” material, with the exception of the early version of “Daisies” (varying substantially from that found in Barber’s complete published songs) and the lovely “Slumber Song of the Madonna.” One of the songs was in French, a sophisticated choice for a boy, but the music emulated some portions of Fauré, without the French penchant for proportion and taste.

Mr. Anikushin clearly has a big technique and a lot to say, with his many instruments as well as his comments. He has been reviewed favorably in these pages before, by the estimable Harris Goldsmith. I would recommend that he do two things: 1) lavish his talents on better-quality music, and 2) remove the chip from his shoulder about funding, recording projects, procuring rights to music, etc. Come on Maxim, I know you’ve heard of Kickstarter, right?

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by Frank Daykin  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Abrazando: Latin Embrace CD In Review

Abrazando: Latin Embrace CD In Review

Abrazando: Latin Embrace
Rosa Antonelli, piano
Albany Records TROY 1571

 

A beguiling CD just landed on my review desk, the sort of music that makes one long for a warm summer day and a cold drink to enhance the enjoyment. Rosa Antonelli, long a specialist in and advocate for lesser-known Spanish and Latin-American repertoire, has here assembled a dessert cart full of delicious and tempting treats.

Not all of the composers or works on Abrazano: Latin Embrace are in fact unknown: Piazzolla, Villa-Lobos, Albeniz, and Lecuona need no introduction. But many will have never heard a work by Gianneo, Ponce, or Williams (the latter composer was my first encounter as well). Even in the better-known composers, however, she has either selected the non-obvious pieces, or made her own transcriptions of non-piano originals, a skill to be commended, as it was once assumed that all virtuosi had such gifts at their command.

She plays two of Piazzolla’s “Four Seasons” of Buenos Aires, Spring and Summer, with great poetry and longing, amid the angular musical gestures of the tango underlying all: the seduction, rejection, re-approach, and eventual union of two imaginary dancers in the brothel district.

Villa-Lobos is represented by his Bachianas Brasilerias No. 4, its Prelude movement showing the “Brazilian Bach” at his most neo-baroque, with perfectly descending sequences that satisfy the ear to no end.

The music of Ernesto Lecuona used to be in the piano bench of every amateur pianist, mainly for his Malagueña or the other number from that suite, which had words added, The Breeze and I. Ms. Antonelli instead gives us two little gems: The Bell-flower and Vals maravilloso (Marvelous Waltz), both salon trifles that gain by being handled so poetically. The fading and slowing bell sounds in the first piece were absolutely ravishingly portrayed.

This brings me to my only quibble about the recording as a whole: I wish it had been done in a concert hall or other larger theater with a natural acoustic, as the engineering and miking are too close, giving the beautiful Steinway and Ms. Antonelli a sort-of choked sound at times, lacking in atmosphere. Also, at fifty-nine minutes, there was room for several more of her wonderful rarities, for the budget-conscious CD buyer.

La misma pena (The Same Sadness) and Llanto negro (Black Tears) by Piazzolla are appropriately heart-tugging. Albeniz is represented by one of his dozens of salon pieces: the charming Champagne Waltz from the 1880s (prior to his embrace of Impressionism combined with Spanish folksong and pictorial color, which culminated in the masterpiece Iberia). The Mexican composer Manuel Ponce (1882-1948) sounds like a Latin Chopin or Schumann in the Intermezzo and Romanza de Amor played here.

Ms. Antonelli then returns to Piazzolla with two more of his nuevo tango items: Nunca, nunca te olvide (I will never, never forget you) and Libertango. The Argentinian Alberto Williams (1862-1952) has a touching Reverie, despite his non-Spanish sounding name, one hears the similar soul sounds as the others on this CD. The disc closes with the more rambunctious pieces by Luis Gianneo (1897-1968) Tres Danzas Argentinas (Three Argentine Dances): Gato, Tango, and Chacarera, topics also taken up by Ginastera, of the generation directly after Williams’.

Dare I use the dangerous word “definitive” to describe Ms. Antonelli’s innate understanding of this style and these composers? I fear I must, and I’m confident that she will continue to unearth and program the best of this unique culture and its music.

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by Frank Daykin  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
New York Concert Artists and Associates presents Yunwha Song in Review

New York Concert Artists and Associates presents Yunwha Song in Review

New York Concert Artists and Associates presents Yunwha Song
Yunwha Song, flute; Soyeon Kim, piano
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
May 29, 2015

 

It’s hard not to like a flute recital, for the sounds the instrument makes are nearly always beguiling. This may result in a sameness of sound over a long program, unless the flutist is sufficiently adventurous, as was mostly the case on Friday night at the fine recital of Yunwha Song. She was at her best in the contemporary (21st century) selections she performed, two of the three involving extended, non-traditional techniques. She displayed abundant virtuosity and a welcome sense of “oneness” with the instrument.

The recital began with a Sonata by C.P.E. Bach, given a bland rendition that didn’t show much of the personality of either performer. However, all that changed with the next work, Honami, by Dutch-born Wil Offermans, a champion of extended flute techniques. Quoting Mr. Offermans, “Ho means ear (i.e. ear of corn) and nami means wave. Together they refer to the waving scenery one can see when the wind blows over a blooming rice field. For Honami, the breath is the cause, the printed music is the medium and the sound of the flute is the consequential result.” Ms. Song used every sound in the flutist’s arsenal to depict the natural forces of air. The audience gasped with pleasure and astonishment at the faint high whistling sound she achieved at the end.

The first half concluded with the unabashedly sensuous, tonal Sonata for Flute and Piano (2003) by Yuko Uebayashi. The work is beautifully written for both players, true chamber music, with passages that sometimes recall Ravel, or Dutilleux without the “edge.” The coordination between flute and piano was stunningly together, all the more so because the evening’s pianist, Soyeon Kim, was a substitute for the one listed on the program. Ms. Kim gave the impression that the two had been working together for years, the highest praise for any collaborative pianist. I don’t know how much time they had to put this recital together, but it sounded completely thought-out. In fact, I could have used a bit more sound from Ms. Kim all evening (no short stick, pianists!). Their rapid playing was thrilling, and each metric shift and surprising silence happened magically.

After intermission, the stick was lifted for Ms. Kim’s “orchestral” part in Song’s rendition of every flutist’s dream role: the opening solo of Debussy’s Prélude à l’après-midi d’un faune (which was wrongly billed on the program). The transcription was uncredited, but it did no favors to the sumptuous orchestral writing that cushions the flute throughout the original. It was like looking at a pencil sketch of an oil painting. Sometimes the flute, in fact, needs to blend into the texture, not always to be out in front. In this work, Ms. Song sounded short of breath (which I know is not an issue for her); the phrasing was not smooth enough. I would rather have heard her do Debussy’s evocative Syrinx or his elusive and summery Sonata for Flute, Viola, and Harp.

Next came a world premiere by Seungwoo Paik called PAN II. Ms. Song began by striking a golden singing bowl gently with a small mallet, as if summoning the noonday god of the senses. Then she picked up the flute and went into an extended set of variations on a mostly pentatonic “theme,” using many extended techniques, such as humming or singing a guttural pitch while blowing notes on the flute. The music crested and then relaxed, bringing Ms. Song back to the lid of the bowl, for the final oracular ringing.

Finally, a shameless showstopper by obscure French flutist François Borne: his Carmen Fantasy for flute and piano. Every hit tune from the opera was included, with virtuoso variations spiraling into ever faster scales and arpeggios. Clearly Ms. Song was in her element, and the audience yielded to the visceral thrill such a display was meant to, and in this case did, evoke.

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

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Verdi Requiem in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Verdi Requiem

Jonathan Griffith, conductor

Distinguished Concerts Orchestra; Distinguished Concerts Singers International

Penelope Shumate, soprano; Claudia Chapa, mezzo-soprano; John Pickle, tenor; Christopher Job, bass

Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

May 24, 2015

 

The Verdi Requiem is one of sacred music’s guilty pleasures, always thrilling even though you know it’s so operatic. So much so, in fact, that it was banned from performance within the Catholic church setting until the early 1960s. Or was it the fact that it was composed by a self-proclaimed atheist? The piece was written in memory of Alessandro Manzoni, a hero of the “Risorgimento,” the mid-nineteenth century movement for Italian unification. Verdi joins Mozart and Berlioz in his relish of the terrifying aspects of death rather than offering comfort to those left behind, as we find in Brahms, Fauré, and Duruflé.

DCINY presented a superior rendition on Sunday night. Due credit must go to the conductor, Jonathan Griffith (who is also co-founder and artistic director of DCINY), who assembles these gigantic choral/orchestral pieces with choirs coming to New York from all over the US and, in this case, Denmark and England. Clearly, his vision for the piece, and his ability to convey it, are crystal clear, because he gets audible results from his assembled forces.

The choir was so large that numerous female members of the soprano and alto sections had to be located in the front balconies, creating an antiphonal effect that was not unwelcome, though it did lead to minor imprecision of ensemble that did not detract from the overall impression.

The chorus thundered when the score requested, but even more critically, they whispered in terrified awe and sang beautiful plush soft chords, with many shades and colors. Verdi has structured the work as a sort of opposition between chorus and four soloists, as was noted in the excellent program notes. He spends a lot more time on the terrifying aspects of death and its aftermath Dies Irae, which always comes back just when the more comforting portions seem to be gaining a foothold.

The four soloists were all up to the operatic demands of their parts, but special mention must be made of Claudia Chapa, a Mexican mezzo-soprano, who has the true Verdi heft and color in her powerful voice. Tenor John Pickle also sang with thrilling squillo in a true Italian style that was entirely appropriate. The bass, Christopher Job, possesses a sound that is brighter and more forward-placed than I am used to for Verdi, but created a haunting and wonderful effect with his three descending Mors. Soprano Penelope Shumate created some lovely pianissimo floaty high notes, and these were her best quality, which is no small achievement. However, in other heftier spots, she risked being overwhelmed by the orchestra; and she didn’t have the requisite raw chest tones for the concluding Libera me Domine, the one that’s down an octave in the soprano’s “vulnerable” range. She and Chapa did have some gorgeous moments when they were each singing softly an octave apart.

From the first hushed descending minor triad of the orchestra, it was clear that the freelance group that calls itself the Distinguished Concerts Orchestra was in full command of the colors this score requires. I wish they were credited in the program, so I could single out some of the solo players, including the concertmaster, and numerous wind players. Also, what Verdi Requiem would be complete without the monstrous and scary “Thwack!” of the tympani in the Dies Irae? Here, it was entirely fulfilled, with what must be one of the tympanist’s most enjoyable places in the repertoire.

Verdi’s Requiem does not have the In Paradisum section that some other Requiems do, but the audience was certainly “In Paradise” and leapt to its feet for a deserved ovation.

 

 

 

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by Frank Daykin  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Manhattan Concert Productions presents Masterworks Festival Chorus and New York City Chamber Orchestra in Review

Manhattan Concert Productions presents Masterworks Festival Chorus and New York City Chamber Orchestra in Review

Manhattan Concert Productions presents Masterworks Festival Chorus and New York City Chamber Orchestra
Masterworks Festival Chorus
San Jose State University Choraliers
The Phoenix Symphony Chorus
New York City Chamber Orchestra
Jeffrey Benson and Thomas Bookhout, conductors
Layna Chianakis, mezzo-soprano; Jessica Sandidge, soprano; Michael Scarcelle, bass; Marguerite Krull, soprano; Amy Maude Helfer, mezzo-soprano; Nathan Munson, tenor; Paul An, bass
Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
April 27, 2015

 

Manhattan Concert Productions gives community choruses great opportunities to perform in leading concert halls across America, including Carnegie Hall. Their umbrella reaches from children’s choirs to high-school, collegiate, and community and symphony choruses. These groups then travel to New York and work with the permanent instrumental ensemble known as the New York City Chamber Orchestra. The evening of April 27, 2015, on the main stage of Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, a wonderful range of talent and music was on display.

The program began with the San Jose State University Choraliers, who indeed proved that they have “choral ears,” in fine renditions of Finzi and Elder. Finzi’s music deserves to be much more widely known. Their diction in his My Spirit Sang All Day was exemplary, as was the feeling of tenderness, which followed into Elder’s Willow-Wood, conducted by their own Jeffrey Benson. They were then joined by the extraordinary mezzo-soprano Layna Chianakis in two spirituals. If my pitch-sense isn’t failing me, I could swear she did an effortless high D near the end of This Little Light of Mine, a light which shone brightly indeed.

The main business of the first half was Fauré’s Requiem, Op. 48. This work is comforting, austerely sensuous, and serene in its appeal, unlike the melodramatic/operatic settings of Verdi or Berlioz that emphasize damnation. It was composed in 1888 in memory of Fauré’s recently deceased father. The Requiem, which was modified by Fauré three complete times over many years, has the unusual scoring of omitting the “first violin” sound, thus giving it a darker coloration and symbolizing absence perfectly. Then when the angelic solo violin of concertmaster Robert Zubrycki entered in the Sanctus, the effect was stunning. Again, the conductor was Mr. Benson, from whose group (a massed choir of people from California, Michigan, and New York) I could have used a greater dynamic range, especially in the pianissimi. Their sound was exciting in the louder dynamics, but I missed the great emotional power of a large number of people all singing extremely softy, held-in. I was also sorry to hear some choral diphthongs, especially on the open “e” vowels, which made the church Latin sound so American. The range of instrumental dynamics was not wide enough, from the very first note, a fortissimo D that is supposed to decline to a pianissimo choral entry. This resulted in a “smooth” performance, but one that didn’t maximize contrast. The sound of the electronic organ, the only type Carnegie and other New York halls have at their disposal (with the exception of Alice Tully Hall), was unfortunate and crude, though well-played by the uncredited organist. This is a shame that New York really needs to address if such works are to be presented. The two soloists handled their work admirably, with the soprano Jessica Sandidge wisely not scaling her lovely voice into anything “boy”-sounding in the Pie Jesu, even though the premiere was by a boy soprano. Michael Scarcelle sang the Offertoire and Libera me, Domine with power and intimacy by turns.

After intermission, the Phoenix Symphony Chorus, conducted by Thomas Bookhout, sang a beautiful work by Stephen Paulus, The Pilgrims’ Hymn, excerpted from his opera The Three Hermits, and a less-original but still heartfelt Psalm of Ascension by Dan Forrest. This group, of considerably more mature singers than had been heard in the first half, delivered all the contrasts of text and tone that one could wish for.

They were then joined by choirs from Arizona, New Jersey, and Wisconsin (and apparently some free-lance individuals from New Jersey) for a rousing performance of Haydn’s well-known “Lord Nelson” Mass, originally titled Missa in Angustiis (Mass for Troubled Times). The tempi were moderate, allowing the grandeur of the music to breathe, while articulation, dynamics, and transparency all reflected some of the advances in historically-informed playing that one expects in this repertoire (And again that electronic pseudo-organ). All four soloists were excellent, but I must single (or double) out the soprano Marguerite Krull and the tenor Nathan Munson for the clarity of their tone, its brilliance, and forward placement. Bass Paul An, an accomplished Juilliard graduate, sang well but should nevertheless be advised not to try to sound too “old” or vocally dark before his time, even though he is a bass, because this will eventually wear out the voice. This chorus achieved that magical hush in the final Dona nobis pacem (Grant us peace), a fitting end to a well-done evening of choral music.

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by Frank Daykin  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Rondo FORMA 2015 Competition Winners’ Recital in Review

Rondo FORMA 2015 Competition Winners’ Recital in Review

Rondo Young Artist presents Rondo FORMA 2015 Competition Winners’ Recital
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
April 19, 2015

 

The Rondo Young Artist program had its first-ever college-level piano competition this year, and they presented the winners in recital on Sunday afternoon. What a promising crop of young pianists this is! They all played with great panache and individuality, which is always a wonderful thing to hear. Only two of them are actually music majors in conservatories. Interestingly, they are (or were) all students of the same teacher: Alexandre Moutouzkine, himself a competition winner of great stature. I know he’s not the only piano teacher in New York, but he must be doing something very effective! Perhaps he gently prods most of his flock to enter this competition.

Er-Hsuan Li began the afternoon with a nicely articulated Bach French Suite in D minor that had good contrapuntal interplay with the all-important left hand. Played with no repeats, probably because of time constraints for the recital as a whole, one wished for more. He then followed with Schoenberg’s Op. 11, No. 1 Klavierstück, played with astonishing maturity and flair, although to this listener (often a Schoenberg lover) it sounded like Brahms without soul (the music, not the performance). He closed his set with a fun romp through the last two movements of Carl Maria von Weber’s C Major Piano Sonata, a darling of recitals many years ago. He dispatched the Presto rondo finale with immaculate sparkle.

Annie Cao, a business major at Drexel, was next, exhibiting a big personality in the overlapping-hands work of Rameau’s L’Egyptienne. That was followed by the first Impromptu of Fauré, which while full of character and wonderfully fluent had a bit too much romantic rubato for this composer. It was nevertheless convincing. In Chopin’s rarely heard Introduction and Bolero, Op. 19, she showed interesting impetuosity and gave the piece a lot of fire, instead of relating the bolero dance to the more stately polonaise rhythm, with which it shares characteristics.

After intermission, Yong Murray, a math student at Columbia, played the B-flat minor Prelude and Fugue from Book I of Bach’s Well-Tempered Clavier with drama and poetry, although for me it was a bit too “right-hand” in the Prelude, missing a lot of the interesting polyphony; and the fugue subject is not just the first two notes, but continues to the descending scale that follows—it should have been pursued more. He segued right into Bartók’s fiendishly difficult Etude No. 1 from Three Etudes, Op. 18. This was an amazing burst of adrenalin and excitement, perfectly suiting his temperament. Two of Brahms’ final works for the piano (Nos. 1 and 4 from Op. 119) closed his set. The Intermezzo (No. 1) was beautifully played, with more youthful passion and less autumnal resignation than usual. The interpreter is young, after all! The Rhapsody (No. 4) however, was too fast, and a bit clangorous.

Finally, the oldest of the four, though by no means “old”: Sherry Kim, dazzled with lyrical, deeply personal renditions of three Scarlatti sonatas. The D minor (K. 213) was heartbreaking. Her staccato had great personality and line in the E major (K. 495). Then she played four of Shostakovich’s less-often heard Preludes from Op. 34, with perfection of irony and wistfulness, in short, everything one could wish for. She closed with a fierce, yet playful, even coquettish, Liszt Hungarian Rhapsody No. 12 in C-sharp minor. These great pieces seem to have fallen out of favor, perhaps because of their “non”-Hungarian provenance (we like to think we’re so much more sophisticated musicologically), and certainly because of their great difficulty. When sported with, as was the case today, they become an exciting joy-ride of technique and wit.

Afterward, the four were presented with trophies by the staff of Rondo Young Artist, to enthusiastic applause.

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by Frank Daykin  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Adrienne Haan- Rock le Cabaret! In Review

Adrienne Haan- Rock le Cabaret! In Review

Adrienne Haan- Rock le Cabaret! In Review
Robert R. Blume and Joseph Barry present a Step Forward Entertainment Production: Adrienne Haan-Rock le Cabaret!
The Cutting Room, New York. NY
April 18, 2015

 

Back in the day (the eighteenth century French day, that is), cabarets were actually just smallish cleared-up spaces in the back of wine merchants’ shops. There, whoever wished could sing politically charged songs lamenting the overworked common man and his or her lot and loves. Naturally, these venues aroused suspicion on the part of the ruling powers, as did cafés .

Closer to our time, cabaret has come to mean a somewhat more genteel listening experience, often in posh surroundings, with standards from the American (or other national) songbook and musical theater material, delivered with some patter in between.

On Saturday night, April 18, 2015, the force of nature that is Adrienne Haan restored some of the fury that this genre could use, in her fusion of 20’s and 30’s inspired French chansons mashed-up with propulsive rock arrangements (all by Rainer Peters). This was no shrinking violet of an evening, but rather a high-energy spectacular. The unifying story-line was that of love: its longings, satisfactions, and endings.

She took almost every iconic song from Edith Piaf, Jacques Brel, Charles Aznavour, and even Kurt Weill, and shifted them (even the ballads) into high gear. As a result, perhaps there was too much sameness in the sound, which was heavily amplified to the point where the balances in the small, charmingly eccentric Cutting Room space were off, to the detriment of understanding a percentage of the lyrics.

A standout for me was the rendition of Brel’s Le Port d’Amsterdam, in which her tone and the arrangement and the material were in perfect alignment. This catalog of a seaport and its seedy needy denizens was delivered with maximum rage and/or disdain, yet turned also to empathy and identification.

Ms. Haan’s version of La Vie en rose reminded me of Grace Jones’ 80’s disco version, but her singing of Youkali, the Kurt Weill fantasy location where forbidden lovers may enjoy their ill-fated hook-ups, was extremely touching. The concert could have used more points of repose and lyricism like this. Ms. Haan is hyper-kinetic, urging the audience to clap along, even sing along at one point in the encore; she could be described as relentlessly positive, even when the emotions being sung about are less so.

Not to be overlooked, her five-piece band was extremely talented; this was evident despite the volume level. Two of the five even traveled from Germany to do this event. The others were from the enormous freelance talent pool of New York City.

Clearly Ms. Haan is a huge talent; she sang in only one of her six languages, and she often performs in many other styles as well. Perhaps I would have found the evening more interesting if the new versions had been interspersed with more traditional material; in that way, the appreciation of contrast could have been even greater. But that is just me. She generated enormous excitement in the room, and justifiably so. She is a totally-involved, hard working, generous and energetic artist.

 

 

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by Frank Daykin  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents “Grant Us Peace” in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents “Grant Us Peace” in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents “Grant Us Peace”
Distinguished Concerts Orchestra; Distinguished Concerts Singers International
Catherine Sailer, DCINY debut conductor; Trey Jacobs, DCINY debut conductor
Inglemoor High School Orchestra; James Rice, conductor,
Inglemoor High School Wind Ensemble; Ted Christensen, conductor
Stern Auditorium, Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
April 12, 2015, 8:30 PM

 

DCINY’s track record of high-quality music events continued unbroken on Sunday with the concert “Grant Us Peace,” featuring two classics by adult choirs and players, and two talented high school groups.

Dona nobis pacem (Grant us peace) is the final phrase of the Ordinary of the Catholic Mass, coming at the end of the Agnus Dei (Lamb of God) prayer for mercy. In our troubled age, any prayer for peace is welcome, especially the rich musical responses that have inspired composers over the centuries.

Mozart’s so-called “Coronation” mass (the nickname dates from the nineteenth century) premiered on Easter Sunday, April 4, 1779, in Salzburg, so this performance on Orthodox Easter was especially appropriate. Catherine Sailer, in her DCINY conducting debut, led the orchestra, chorus and soloists in a stylish rendition of this mainly optimistic celebratory music. The contrasts were precise, and the string playing was in good eighteenth century style without being overly dry. Standouts were the soprano Meeae Nam and the tenor Nathan Bird, whose voices were the epitome of Mozartean elegance and lyricism. The Agnus Dei soprano solo seems to foreshadow the emotional world of the aria Dove sono from Le Nozze di Figaro.

The group then turned to the vivid anti-war cantata Dona nobis pacem by British composer Ralph Vaughan Williams, who himself served in WWI and witnessed its horrors directly. It was conducted by another DCINY debut conductor, Trey Jacobs. In 1936, sensitive Britons were all too aware that their world was inching toward another cataclysm. Vaughan Williams uses the Latin phrase dona nobis pacem interleaved with poetry by Walt Whitman and an address to Parliament by British politician John Bright, along with Bible passages. The work thunders menacingly and has passages of great pleading, the loveliest of which, ‘’Reconciliation,’’ a solo for baritone, was rendered with attention to drama by Steven Taylor. Soprano Meeae Nam made the most of her repeated half-step implorations, turning to a more confident peaceful assertion by the end. The whole work made a great impact, although I might have wished for even more choral muscle, especially when the orchestra was given its full volume. But when they sang by themselves, as in the gorgeous hushed C Major final dona nobis pacem, they were superb.

After intermission, two groups from the Inglemoor High School in Washington State performed: the string orchestra and the wind ensemble. Both were enthusiastic and exhibited moments of maturity, despite minor discrepancies of intonation and ensemble. The string orchestra, in particular, under the direction of James Rice, achieved a hushed, mellow intensity in the haunting Meditation (from Serenade for Strings) by Jack Jarrett. The Ernest Bloch Concerto Grosso excerpt could have used greater rhythmic bite; the two movements from Holst’s St. Paul’s Suite (both jigs) were very successful, and there were smiles of recognition as the audience realized that Greensleeves was mashed-up with another folksong in the second excerpt. The wind ensemble from the same school, led by Ted Christensen, displayed great energy in a Dedicatory Fanfare by William Cherry, and The Florentiner, an “Italian” march by Hungarian composer Julius Fučik. In the programmatic Endurance by Timothy Mahr, they were called upon to use not only their wind instruments but also their own wind, with wordless vocalizes accompanying the music that seeks to depict the nearly-tragic Antarctica expedition of  Ernest Shackleton in 1914.

Overall, a big congratulation to the music education and educators in public schools. Keep up the good work!

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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, a celebration of contemporary a cappella music featuring arrangements from Pitch Perfect, The Sing-Off, and the American pop lexicon
Deke Sharon, conductor/arranger
Kelley Jakle, Shelley Regner, Sean Altman, guest soloists; Chesney Snow, vocal percussion
Distinguished Concerts Singers International
Stern Auditorium, Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
March 29, 2015

Two of the most desired syllables in the entertainment world are “sold out.” Follow those by the five syllables of “standing ovation” and you get a clear idea of the exciting program that was delivered in “pitch perfect” fashion on Sunday afternoon, by a large assembly of contemporary a cappella choirs from across the country, Canada, and Australia, under the superb and enthusiastic direction of conductor/arranger Deke Sharon.

He explained how only twenty to twenty-five years ago, a cappella choirs were few, mainly centering on eastern seaboard colleges. Today, there are over 3000 in the U.S. alone. Television shows like Glee and The Sing-Off competition, for which Mr. Sharon is music director, have fueled their popularity. The Sing-Off is now expanding to its fourth continent, Africa. Mr. Sharon also did all the music for the 2012 sleeper hit movie Pitch Perfect, about the a cappella competition world; the sequel, Pitch Perfect 2, is slated for release on May 15, 2015. The movie and the competition show provided the overarching theme for the day’s offerings, everything from Gershwin to Sondheim to Louis Prima and the Beatles.

Two hundred singers at high school level occupied the first half of the program, and they really showed how fine their training is, first with their own individual conductors in their hometowns; then coming to New York to combine with other groups and Maestro Sharon.

A cappella is an Italian musical indication (literally “in the chapel”). Since instruments were forbidden in the Sistine Chapel (many centuries ago, as well as today), the unaccompanied vocal singing style took that name. The human voice is the only instrument that is not man-made; it is already “in” everyone’s bodies. Every single sound that was made on Sunday came from the breath, lips, mouths, and throats of these musicians, including the new designation “vocal percussion,” also known as “beat box,” and all the complex arrangements were performed completely from memory.

From the first number, “I Got the Music In Me,” there was no doubt that was a true statement. Everything was precise, polished, beautiful, joyful, yet never sounding anything but spontaneous. Other highlights of the first half included Gill and Wade’s “Heartbreaker,” with Shelley Regner as soloist; she was in the Pitch Perfect movie, and will be in the sequel. An all-female version of Leonard Cohen’s moving “Hallelujah” by the group Bare Rhythm from Calabasas, California, earned a rousing standing ovation, one of many. Another was given to the massed choirs’ Benny Goodman homage: Louis Prima’s “Sing Sing Sing,” with the vibrant vocal percussion of Chesney Snow.

There were dozens and dozens of worthy solos all drawn from the choir members, as well as their own beat boxing; all their movements while feeling the music were natural and contributed to the great joy that pervaded the entire afternoon.

The second half saw the (slightly) older groups, from college age to adult. The Plain White T’s “Rhythm of Love” was given star treatment by a traditional barbershop group from Australia, The Blenders, as was John Mayer’s “Waiting on the World to Change” by a Canadian group called newchoir [no capital N]. Gershwin’s “Summertime” contained Sharon himself as the soloist, not only singing, but imitating the wah-wah sound of a trumpet with Harmon mute uncannily.

Kelly Jakle, another star of the Pitch Perfect movie, was outstanding in the inspirational anthem “True Colors,” which banished any comparison with Cyndi Lauper. To finish, the massed choir and all three soloists (including the excellent Sean Altman) sang “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For” with energy and fire. They may not have “found what they were looking for,” but they enabled us to find just what we were looking for. Bravo.

A brief, boisterous encore of “The Lion Sleeps Tonight” reintroduced the younger singers, who entered Carnegie Hall from the back, standing, singing, and dancing in the aisles. The rafters definitely rang, as audience joined in with the 400 singers, and Sharon encouraged everyone to sing, no matter where or for whom.

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by Frank Daykin  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Eastman School of Music presents Cahill Smith in Review

Eastman School of Music presents Cahill Smith in Review

Eastman in New York
Cahill Smith, piano
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
March 14, 2015

Eastman School of Music, one of the country’s leading conservatories, under the series title “Eastman in New York” presented one of its fine doctoral graduates, Cahill Smith in a recital of standards and unusual repertoire, all enlivened by Smith’s uncommon musicality.

He is an affable young fellow, with a way of showing facially just where the music is going while he plays, what points it is making, and how his involvement fits with all that, and he does it in a non-obnoxious way, a rare talent. He also at all times gives the impression of creating “on the spot” rather than just parroting something that has been over-learned by rote. This is truly a gift.

His opening Scarlatti sonata, the F minor, K. 466, played with every advantage of the modern piano’s colors and shading, contained a lot of romantic rubato, but was nevertheless totally convincing in Mr. Smith’s hands. This segued directly into Scarlatti Cadences (1996), Sebastian Currier’s postmodern take on Scarlatti’s energy, including some direct appropriations. It was a great programming idea to have the mysterious cluster that begins the Currier follow the final note of the Scarlatti with no break. I felt as though some of Messiaen’s birds wandered into Currier’s world too. The coloring was beautiful from Mr. Smith.

Mozart’s Sonata in D Major, K. 311, finds the composer in an optimistic mood, and although we know how exposed Mozart is for the intrepid pianist, Mr. Smith illuminated every phrase affectionately and with sparkle, crisp runs, and stylish ornaments.

He then closed the first half of the recital with Liszt’s epic Vallée d’Obermann, from the “Swiss” year. In his charming verbal program notes, he said that the piece was new to him, and it sounded thus. I felt it really was best in those moments when he actually got a bit wild and almost out of control. That’s when the most fitting energy was applied, and at those times it was very exciting. Perhaps as he matures with the piece, he will find more mystery, more longing, more existential dread progressing to redemption. I suggest he re-analyze the motif as a “three-note descending” rather than the scale he mentioned. That way, he will discover just how it constantly refers to Obermann’s questioning “Que veux-je?/Que suis-je?” (What do I want? What am I?)

The entire second half was devoted to a special “cause” of Mr. Smith: the piano music of Nikolai Medtner, a Russian near-contemporary of Rachmaninoff whose music has been largely neglected in the rush to modernism (he worked in a largely tonal, conservative vein, but with great originality and touching emotion). He offered selections from Forgotten Melodies, Book 1, Op. 38 (I. Sonata Reminiscenza ,II. Danza graziosa, III. Danza festiva, VI. Canzona serenata, VII. Danza silvestra , Coda. Alla Reminiscenza). Here, Mr. Smith was in his element, revealing every twist and turn, every poignant repeat of the cyclic themes, with beautiful shimmering colors I haven’t heard since Gilels played the Sonata reminiscenza in Carnegie Hall in 1980. This was the most Medtner I’ve ever heard at one time, and I was wondering since he presented Op. 38, why did Mr. Smith leave out the fourth and fifth pieces? It would have made for a longer recital for sure, but no one was complaining.

After a rousing ovation, he did a “true” encore, and repeated the second Medtner piece, the Danza graziosa, with its hints of incipient ragtime à la Russe. It was even more finely shaded than the first time. Thanks to Eastman for providing a real program, and to Mr. Smith for writing his own program notes. Bravo.

 

 

 

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