Eric Whitacre, Composer/Conductor

Kelly Yu-Chieh Lin, Piano

David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center, New York, NY

April 14, 2025

It was a high-voltage weekend for Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) with several extravaganzas, but the fun just kept going on Monday at David Geffen Hall with another mega-choral  concert, this one presenting “an entire evening of the music of Eric Whitacre” (as the composer himself was in the awkward  position to announce in his introduction). With mock embarrassment, he quipped, “if that’s not your cup of tea, you may want to slip out soon”  – but of course, no one did. There, in that self-deprecating moment, you have a hint of his magic. He embodies – and shares through his music – such a range of human experience, from feet on the ground to head in the clouds, and all kinds of humor and complexity in between, that in order to dislike everything he’s written you’d have to be without a pulse.

The evening’s opener was With a Lily in Your Hand, composed in 1992 (when Whitacre was still a student) to a text of Federico Garcia Lorca (tr. Rothenberg). Like much of Whitacre’s music it evoked a feeling of wonder through his earnest responses to text and his expressive, tonality-based harmonies, but within a concise framework that never wore out its welcome. The Seal Lullaby (in a change of program order), followed with a dreamy setting of words by Rudyard Kipling. Composed originally in 2005 for DreamWorks (for a proposed film, The White Seal), it could have remained in the figurative “trunk” when the film was nixed in favor of Kung Fu Panda, but Mr. Whitacre, ever resourceful, kept the music alive (as he did also with a reworked setting of a Robert Frost poem, upon clashing with the Frost estate). Hinting, after the song received hearty applause, that the music could still make for a good film – and receiving audible approval from the audience – Mr. Whitacre then joked, “anyone who has 200,000,000 dollars, please meet me outside.” Luckily no one needs that in order to hear the music, but we’ve had a lot of the Panda – so how about a seal?

On the subject of animals, the program moved on to two sets of Animal Crackers, Mr. Whitacre’s supremely witty settings of Ogden Nash poems. He reminded us that, in his more than twenty concerts with DCINY over the last fifteen or so years, DCINY had commissioned these pieces. What a coup for DCINY. We heard Volume I (The Panther, The Cow, and The Firefly) and Volume II (The Canary, The Eel, and The Kangaroo), each one matching the terse brilliance of Nash with musical hilarity. If there are some more animal “contenders” left in Nash’s menagerie, I’ll add my pitch for more, please. The chorus, which we were told converged only 48 hours before curtain time, was superb in it all – around 350 of them – led by the dynamic composer himself and bolstered by the ever-supportive Kelly Yu-Chieh Lin at the piano.

On a side note, if such little gems seems facile, they are not. The timing of deadpan verses before musical “punchlines” is a tricky task, requiring mastery from composer and choir alike. The roaring beginning of The Panther could have been from Carmina Burana or any  similarly imposing choral work, setting up its comical close perfectly. The chorus has to be irritatingly robotic in the canaries’ song that “never varies” – and it was (and though we can’t envision “irritatingly robotic” quoted in the chorus’s next promo materials, it is a compliment here).

Next we heard verses from Margaret Wise Brown’s Goodnight Moon, the children’s book remembered so nostalgically by many, set and sung with tenderness. Once again, Mr. Whitacre’s embrace of everyday moments hit the bull’s-eye. The chorus navigated its tricky heights with only the occasional strain, and its challenging leaping intervals were handled bravely, with success all in all.

Moving on to text of Octavio Paz (tr. M. Rukeyser) from 2002, a song called A Boy and a Girl expressed musically the poem’s message about the power of silence. Very little could follow such a song, but the ubiquitous Cloudburst, with its remarkable percussive simulations of rain, was a spectacular and ecstatic close to the first half.

Mr. Whitacre hardly needs this reviewer’s affirmation (or any reviewer’s for that matter), as his appeal has reached all corners of the earth, through live concerts and with his Virtual Choirs uniting well over 100,000 singers from over 145 countries. Among the many choruses combined in DCINY’s forces at this concert, one was even named for him – the Whitachords. Others hailed from California, Georgia, Illinois, Michigan, Minnesota, New Jersey, Ohio, Pennsylvania, Tennessee, and Virginia. Like every Whitacre concert, it was a two-way lovefest, and the composer expressed his deep gratitude to the singers.

One of Mr. Whitacre’s most famous pieces Lux Aurumque opened the second half, and I’m happy to report that even after many hearings, it never wears thin. The silvery high notes were stunning, and one was sent into meditations over the miracle of sound.

The week’s second tribute to Leonardo Da Vinci followed in Leonardo Dreams of His Flying Machine (the first tribute on Sunday being Jocelyn Hagen’s piece reviewed here: DCINY Da Vinci’s Simple Gifts ). It lived up to Mr. Whitacre’s introduction of it as “an acid-warped dream” of the music of Leonardo’s day, and the choirs surpassed themselves. One could hardly imagine they had only had two days to put it (and all else) together.

Home (from The Sacred Veil) set to text by Charles Anthony Silvestri, combined the beauty of early love with notes of heartbreak, having been composed in remembrance of Mr. Silvestri’s late wife. It was deeply moving, and one has to  credit much of its expressiveness to its opening and concluding harmonies, played here by Ms. Lin at the piano. Her voicing of each chord was perfection. One was prompted to dry one’s tears with All Seems Beautiful to Me, set to Walt Whitman, and with the performance of the five marvelous E.E. Cummings settings in The City and the Sea. The finale of it, little man in a hurry never ceases to tickle one’s funny bone, particularly given Mr. Whitacre’s expressive conducting style.

Sing Gently closed the concert, with text and music written both by Mr. Whitacre in reaction to the Covid epidemic and premiered in July of 2020. Radiating prayerfulness and compassion, it was an inspiring close, eliciting an encore of one more song – called Sleep (2000).

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

Distinguished Concerts Singers International
Greg Gilpin, Conductor and Composer, Rachel Fogarty, Piano
The Sloan Canyon Wind Ensemble; Jordan Mathisen, Conductor;

Charles A. Maguire, David Maccabee, and Monica Guido, Guest Conductors

Cabrillo Choirs; Cheryl Anderson, Conductor

Jocelyn Hagen. Composer and Artistic Director

Stern Auditorium, Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

April 13, 2025

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presented yet another one of their trademark extravaganzas this weekend, and the title of it – Da Vinci’s Simple Gifts – only hinted at some of the content. The program was divided into three segments, including (before intermission) an array of choral works (including the famous tune Simple Gifts) performed by Distinguished Concerts Singers International, and then a group of instrumental works performed by Sloan Canyon Wind Ensemble. The third segment (after intermission)  was devoted to a multimedia piece entitled The Notebooks of Leonardo da Vinci by Jocelyn Hagen, sung by the Cabrillo Choirs (along with their own chamber ensemble, with visual projections on the stage wall). There was indeed something for everyone.

The first choral segment of the program, under the direction of composer/conductor Greg Gilpin, had its own title – “For the Beauty of Life” – a broad enough title to include all their selections. The first, For the Beauty of the Earth, composed by Mr. Gilpin, had a hymn-like simplicity that made it a perfect opener. Rachel Fogarty set the mood with her piano introduction, and Vanessa Tarter Rhodes wove her flute lines through it. The singers sounded well-prepared, and unity was no issue, despite their choruses converging from Florida, Indiana, Kentucky, New Jersey, New York, South Carolina, along with individual singers from around the world. In addition to their regular choral directors (who took a bow at the end), much credit goes to Mr. Gilpin, who clearly has a way of writing for and leading young singers. In 2012 for New York Concert Review, I wrote, “Mr. Gilpin seems destined for ever-widening popular appeal” – and not to say “told ya’ so” but he is fulfilling that prediction.

Balancing styles, the singers then broke into African rhythms with the Liberian folk song Kokoleoko (arr. Victor C. Johnson) about a rooster’s morning call. Percussionists Anthony Guerin, Kyle Hayden Dayrit, and Andrew Dix, were joined by hand-clapping and stomping choristers in a spirited performance. Returning to a more lyrical vein, The Bowl of Light by Penny Rodriguezfollowed as an uplifting songful plea to focus on what is positive. The singers projected its spirit, and the composer was present in the audience to receive a well-deserved ovation.

The two next selections were paired on a theme of water, first the famous Shenandoah, harmonized movingly here by Mark Patterson and featuring several youngsters from the chorus, and then an arrangement by Greg Gilpin of The Water is Wide, given subtle rhythmic undercurrents.

In a change from the printed program, Greg Gilpin’s own uplifting song followed, May You Love and Be Loved, inspired by L. Frank Baum’s words, featuring two intrepid young soloists from the chorus for the first lines. All the children gave their all, and they finished their segment of the concert with the traditional Shaker hymn Simple Gifts, arranged by Ryan Murphy with a livelier than usual piano figuration in the accompaniment. All the songs in this segment were tonal and accessible.

It is a lot to ask of an audience to sit in their seats for ten minutes while a stage is reset up for a different ensemble, but this seems to come with the DCINY territory. Most likely the families of participants don’t mind, but if a broader audience is to be courted – which much of this music deserves – there should be attention to such issues by those programming the concerts. Apart from these logistics, the second segment of the program was a joy, bringing the Sloan Canyon Wind Ensemble (Nevada) to the stage, with Jordan Mathisen and three guest conductors.

It was refreshing to hear such an exceptional ensemble consisting only of high school students, and as they took on the Midway March, by John Williams (from the 1976 film Midway) one marveled at how capably they handled it. May there be more schools cultivating such musicianship! David Maccabee, guest conductor, drew a driving heroic spirit from the group, with brass and percussion naturally dominating and winds holding their own superbly.

John Mackey’s tour-de-force Strange Humors followed, with Charles A. Maguire, guest conducting. The blend of djembe rhythms and exotic saxophone lines was mesmerizing. It was a hard act to follow, but the Shostakovich Folk Festival from The Gadfly Suite (trans. Donald Hunsberger) kept the energy up under conductor Jordan Mathisen.

George Gershwin’s Second Prelude followed in a clever arrangement by John Krance. Though originally for piano, the fact is that practically every ensemble combination that exists has an arrangement of it (and this reviewer has reviewed it in recent years for eight clarinets as well as for four cellos). It prospered in this wind arrangement, and guest conductor Monica Guido maximized the bluesiness of it. The slides were particularly delicious. The middle section seemed a bit fast (a point of some confusion, because Gershwin writes Largamente con moto, a seemingly mixed message – but Gershwin was recorded playing it rather broadly himself). Overall, it was a pleasure. A closer to the first half was the well-loved Symphonic Dance No. 3, Fiesta, by Clifton Williams, conducted with gusto by Jordan  Mathisen.

After intermission, a whole new concert seemed to emerge. The Notebooks of Leonardo da Vinci by Jocelyn Hagen constituted the program’s second half, and an all new chorus – the Cabrillo Choirs of California – came onstage with their own fourteen-member chamber ensemble (including one of practically each orchestral instrument, but two percussionists). Cheryl Anderson was the skillful conductor for it all.

About the piece, it is a nine-text piece of around thirty minutes, centering on the sketches and writings of Leonardo Da Vinci (1452-1519 – and with a birthday this week, April 15). The piece was premiered in 2019, and since then has been widely performed with synchronized visuals, including many of Leonardo’s famous paintings and drawings (as well as some modern footage of nature, the human physique, etc.), with credit given in part to Isaac Gale, Joseph Midthun, and Justin Schell. The nine movements span a wide range of the master’s interests, from Painting and Drawing, to Practice, Ripples, The Greatest Good, The Vitruvian Man, Invention, Nature, Perception, and Look at the Stars.

As the composer writes in her program notes, “Rivers of ink have been dedicated to Leonardo da Vinci, whose genius bridged art, science, and design.” Lest I add to these rivers of ink, I’ll be very brief and say simply that this work is infinitely fascinating. From the inviting flute lines of the introduction, to the probing lines that subsequently interweave and build to powerful choruses, it captures a sense of the amazing mind of Leonardo, from the dreaming imagination in Painting and Drawing to the industrious rigors of Practice. The visuals were particularly effective in the third movement, in which the music mirrors the water’s rippling magic through a central percussive “drop” of water and the ensuing oscillations. The Vitruvian Man movement was also engaging, as one meditated on visual proportions within musical proportions. Invention and Nature made a good segue, as images of birds followed those of Leonardo’s famous flying machine, inviting some dot-connecting.

All of this fascination would be perhaps moot if the music were not compelling in and of itself –  but fortunately it was. Ms. Hagen has a strong lyrical gift, and her music touches the soul as well as stimulating the mind. One will look forward to more from her. There is a project afoot with VOCES8, and one looks forward to that.

Big kudos are due to the Cabrillo choirs, who did an excellent job, with the only momentary reservation being some iffy intonation in upper registers during the eighth movement. All in all, though, this concert was a triumph. Big congratulations are in order to all involved.

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

Deke Sharon, Conductor, Arranger, & Creative Director

Distinguished Concerts Singers International

Special Guests: Shelley Regner, Backtrack Vocals, Michael Criso & Filip Rušin, Vocal Percussion

David Geffen Hall, Lincoln Center, New York, NY

April 12, 2025

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

Deke Sharon, Conductor, Arranger, & Creative Director

Distinguished Concerts Singers International

Special Guests: Shelley Regner, Backtrack Vocals, Michael Criso & Filip Rušin, Vocal Percussion

David Geffen Hall, Lincoln Center, New York, NY

April 12, 2025

Lovers of a cappella flooded David Geffen Hall this weekend, as Total Vocal with Deke Sharon drew crowds both onstage and in the audience to celebrate their 10th anniversary. The presenters, Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY), blended multiple choruses into their Distinguished Concerts Singers International – and with the addition of guest groups their numbers easily topped 400 performers.

The forces were divided roughly in half, with a larger contingent of young children in the first half (as young as age eight, we were told), and it was awe-inspiring; nothing was quite as inspiring, though, as watching the leader of the a cappella revolution, Deke Sharon, bounding onto the stage, as if with a pogo stick made of pure musical energy. For those unfamiliar with the name Deke Sharon (is there anyone?), he has been a driving force behind the craze for a cappella singing here in the US and around the world for the past few decades. He is an arranger, conductor, singer, producer, and all-around Pied Piper, drawing new generations back into the time-honored a cappella tradition through concerts, movies, and television, particularly The Sing Off on NBC and the three Pitch Perfect movies.

The first chorus launched into a welcoming opener with Be Our Guest from Beauty and the Beast (Alan Menken), and it abounded with spirit, complete with showy leg kicks toward the end. As ever, Mr. Sharon gave illuminating commentary between works (which, synchronized with any shifts of staging, made the transitions feel seamless), and to introduce the next song, Flowers by Miley Cyrus, he announced that it they would sing it in tribute to the group Sweet Honey in the Rock, which has performed with sign language since the 1970’s – “decades ahead of their time” as he noted. Sure enough, this chorus signed while singing Flowers, and it was moving to behold.

A more rap-like feel was up next with Purple Reign, the featured ensemble for My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark/All I Do Is Win (Fall Out Boy, DJ Khaled), from Pitch Perfect 2. Their singing and movement had a primal energy that matched their bright red costumes (and they won my unofficial “best group title” award for the pun on Purple Rain).

More sensitive harmonizations came next from The Overtones from Illinois. In a departure from the printed program, we next heard Jim Steinman’s Total Eclipse of the Heart. As the evening boasted so many soloists, including many unannounced but very worthy ones, it would be a daunting prospect to single out all individuals within the groups – and this one listed ten – but suffice it to say that it was an “all for one, one for all” kind of evening.

As a surprise addition to the printed program, we then heard Run to You (a song by the Pentatonix, a group having much history with Deke Sharon), sung winningly here by Squad Harmonix from California (originally scheduled to sing Bridge Over Troubled Water, which was omitted). Squad Harmonix achieved a hallowed tone in the close-harmony introduction and gave it just the sensitive coloring I look for in a cappella singing.

The 1980’s hit Jessie’s Girl (Rick Springfield) followed, bringing out a group of young male singers from high school. It added a coming-of-age spark of fun. On a more serious note, Blackbird (John Lennon, Paul McCartney, 1968) came next, hearkening back with feeling to the Civil Rights era.

Mr. Sharon then introduced their special guest ensemble, New York’s own Backtrack Vocals, as a group in which each member “is a superstar in their own right” – and we got a good display of why. They are all strong singers with plenty of flair. They first sang Beethoven Medley (arr. Andrew John Kim), and the sound reminded this listener a bit of the days when the Swingle Singers were popular doing entire classical works with scat syllables. Here we had only excerpts, but they were in a clever mashup of the Fifth Symphony, Für Elise,  and the “Moonlight” Sonata –  with a reggaeton beat. They will surely be part of the inspiration for the next generation of a cappella youngsters. They continued with This Is Me from The Greatest Showman (Benj Pasek, Justin Paul, arr. Andrew John Kim & Nicky Brenner), given particularly haunting harmonizing in the introduction before breaking out into a rousing beat.

The full choral forces closed the first half with Be Kind byZac Abel, and it was prefaced with Mr. Sharon’s words on the importance in life of kindness and respect. He added that the beauty of a cappella singing is “show, don’t tell” what people can do when they work together – and they did just that. The youngest members truly shone in this song, taking some terrific solo turns. It should be mentioned that a lot of what gave much of the first half rhythmic life was the beatboxing of Michael Criso, who did a superb job. Equally stellar in this role for the second half was Filip Rušin.

The second half got off to a fun start with the second chorus blasting out Music for a Sushi Restaurant by Harry Stiles, almost as delightful as the hilarious program notes on it (among others) by Mr. Sharon, saying that it is about “flirting and falling in love over a plate of sushi. Or at least I think it is. If not, it makes absolutely zero sense.” The Stiles song was followed by another guest group, Googapella (from California), singing Guy I Used To Be (Lawrence, arr. Graham Toben), and the soloist Ricky Jacobson must be mentioned here, as he really carried the song – along with vocal percussionist Divya Mouli Jacobson. Still more fine singers came on to give performance of Bob Dylan’s Forever Young, a moving song that they did very sensitively.

Another warm introduction from Mr. Sharon was made for the next special guest, Shelley Regner, who gave a passionate showstopping rendition of Somebody to Love (Freddie Mercury); the show, however, did not stop! SoundCrowd from Canada came on to sing a swinging version of Friend Like Me from Aladdin (Alan Menken) – one of highlights of the evening – and on its heels was I Could Write a Book (Richard Rogers, Lorenz Hart), with none other than Deke Sharon himself as soloist. He dedicated it to his wife and gave it a knockout performance, complete with dazzling mouth trumpeting.

The fuller chorus took on Wichita Lineman (Jimmy Webb), which segued well to Just the Way You Are/Just A Dream from Pitch Perfect (Bruno Mars, Nelly) before the final guest ensemble, A.K.A. Crescendo from Croatia, came on for Rain On Me (Lady Gaga, Ariana Grande, arr. Dora Štefković Kanjer). They’ve been in other Total Vocal concerts and were excellent here, as expected.

To close the program, we heard the infectious refrains of I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For (U2), and many in the audience clapped along. Speaking of participation, Deke Sharon invited anyone interested in joining the a cappella troops to email him. It seems he won’t rest until the entire world is singing in harmony, and he may very well succeed. He listed from the stage all the ways to contact him, including his email: deke@dekesharon.com. If this concert couldn’t recruit the masses, what could? It was simply a perfect pitch (or is that Pitch Perfect?).

A winning encore of The Lion Sleeps Tonight sent many in the audience dancing and singing together. It was hard to fight back tears, being reminded once again how miraculously music can bring complete strangers together, where so much else fails.

In addition to all the abovementioned performers, the chorus included the Nashville Community High School Senior Jazz Choir, Williston High School Vocal Jazz, Ram Voices Of Hillcrest High, Baton Rouge Chorus Of Sweet Adelines, International, Lakehouse Music Academy Singers, Keiki Kani Choir, Pop Chorus, My Pop Choir Canada, Affinity Female Voice Choir, Revv52, Vocal Synergy, Vocal Academy@ St. James, The Iona University NightinGAELs, and RJR A Cappella. Happy 10th anniversary to Total Vocal with Deke Sharon!

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

Rock Choir

Marcus Alleyne, Richard Toomer, Carey Camel, Directors

Stern Auditorium, Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

March 22, 2025

On Saturday, March 22nd, Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presented one of their most memorable concerts ever, bringing the world’s largest contemporary choir, called Rock Choir (www.rockchoir.com), from the United Kingdom to make its Carnegie Hall debut. To be more precise, we heard under one percent of Rock Choir, because, though over 300 members had flown in from London (filling some half a dozen risers on the Perelman Stage), the entire choir has actually around 33,000 members. Yes, that is not a typo – 33,000. Though we heard “only” around 300 choristers, with three dynamic conductors, there is a Rock Choir team in the UK of around 130 individuals (including 100 professional musicians) who lead tens of thousands from 400 communities across the country. They are more than a choir – they are a movement.

From the very first notes of their opening, Sweet Child O’ Mine (Guns N’ Roses), the chorus “had me at hello” (albeit with some minimal piped-in background music, as needed in a few selections). With their clapping on offbeats, swaying, and hearty voices, their energy was contagious. What followed was a stirring program of twenty-one pop and rock hits of all moods and styles, from 60’s and 70’s (Shake a Tail Feather, 1963, and Bridge over Troubled Waters, 1970) to the present day (This Is Me, 2017, Shallow, 2018, Green Green Grass, 2022, and Mountain, 2023). All three conductors – Marcus Alleyne, Richard Toomer, and Carey Camel – were skilled and charismatic, and their tag-teaming was swift and seamless.

The audience was invited to join in if moved to do so, because, as Mr. Toomer said, it’s “that kind of concert.” Many did join in. Especially fitting was the chorus’s exultant version of the second song, led by Carey Camel, What a Feeling (Giorgia Moroder, arr. Caroline Redman Lusher) from the movie Flashdance. The choice of this song seemed especially appropriate, in view of the movie’s famous audition scene, in which the Jennifer Beals character defies expectations in a winning performance. This chorus itself defied expectations here, for several reasons.  

One of the things that makes Rock Choir so special is its inclusivity. It was founded by Caroline Redman Lusher in 2005 on the belief that music has the power to unite communities and enhance the health and self-esteem of all who share in it. To this end, there are no auditions for Rock Choir. There is no musical experience necessary to join – not even the ability to read music. So, though this concert was expected to be a lovely event with a “feel good” mission, nothing about its background or the absence of prerequisites prepared one for the high standards we heard. The chorus was tremendous.

Over the course of the concert, the members sang in multiple parts, with impressive descants and some tricky suspensions and modulations, and they were nearly always beautifully in tune. Perhaps it is a case of the whole being greater than the sum of the parts, but if there was a weak voice or an unsure pitch, it was swept up in the power of music that expresses the full range of human emotions – grief, joy, and everything in between. Though mention was made of the benefits of being a member of Rock Choir, those benefits could be felt by their listeners as well, as one could sense audience members gradually shedding their inhibitions. Rock Choir’s joy, simply in being human, is contagious. Mr. Toomer mentioned perhaps starting such a group in New York, and he may have been joking, but yes, please.

Mr. Camel followed Flashdance with Video Killed the Radio Star of The Buggles (arr. Alex Hawker), and then I Wanna Be the Only One (Bebe Winans/ James Lawrence, arr. Josie Black), before Mr. Toomer returned to add his special touch to three songs, the Caribbean-inspired Green Green Grass (George Ezra, arr. Katherine Tye), the Whitney Houston favorite, I Wanna Dance with Somebody (George Merrill/ Shannon Rubicam, arr. Charlotte Nash), and Only You (Vince Clarke, arr. Caroline Redman Lusher). For the last one, Mr. Camel joined as piano support.

Mr. Alleyne brought the next three to life, starting with A Thousand Years (Christina Perre, arr. Josie Black), and it was enhanced by having Mr. Camel at the piano again and Mr. Toomer now adding violin (as he did elsewhere). There seemed nothing these three gentlemen could not handle together. In fact, one couldn’t help thinking that possibly with the addition of some portable percussion or a synthesizer, they could pull off an entire concert using nothing pre-recorded. It would be a great endorsement of purely live music, which needs every champion it can get right now. Mr. Alleyne then led the chorus in what was a concert highlight for this listener, Bridge Over Troubled Waters (Paul Simon, arr. Alex Hawker). Its gentle beauty was a welcome solace, and Mr. Camel handled the piano part well.

On a side note, there were a few diction surprises through the evening, and the latter song included one. Though American choruses often try to adopt British pronunciation (or as many say, the “correct” pronunciation), that choice can be startling in certain American selections, such as Bridge Over Troubled Water. As it had been made famous in the version sung by its New York composer, the British pronunciation of “water” really jumped out. No criticism is meant – it was just charming – but the chorus did capture a more regional American flavor in some other songs, such as For Once In My Life, which Stevie Wonder popularized (Ron Miller/Orlando Murden, arr. Caroline Redman Lusher), and Shake a Tail Feather, sung famously by the Blues Brothers (Oath Hayes/Verlie Rice/Andre Williams, arr. Alex Hawker).

A special highlight of the program was This Is Me from The Greatest Showman (Benji Pasek /Justin Paul, arr. Caroline Redman Lusher), also conducted by Mr. Alleyne. Once again, the choice was particularly appropriate for a chorus that embraces singers of all levels, ages, and backgrounds. Every member seemed to belt out the recurring line, “This is me” as if it were written expressly for them.

Other songs included She Will Be Loved (Maroon 5, arr. Katharine Tye), conducted expertly by Mr. Toomer and I Don’t Want To Miss a Thing (Diane Warren – popularized by Aerosmith), handled sensitively by Mr. Alleyne. Mr. Camel then led an appealing performance of the UK hit Somewhere Only We Know (Keane, arr. Sam Smith and Josie Black) in the Lily Allen version.  

Mr. Toomer, along with keeping delightful and educational commentary going between songs, led several more favorites, including Like a Prayer (Madonna/ Patrick Leonard) and Jolene (Dolly Parton). Though there was a group of four songs left to be conducted by Mr. Alleyne to conclude the concert, Mr. Toomer threw the choice out to the audience as to whether the fourth would be played as an encore, depending on audience response. Naturally it was. No one was in a hurry to leave, it seemed, and one side of the audience had a group of people dancing. We heard excellent renditions of Shallow from A Star is Born (Lady Gaga / Mark Ronson, arr. Charlotte Nash), the ever-popular Hallelujah (Leonard Cohen, arr. Caroline Redman Lusher), and a particularly self-affirming version of Mountain (Sam Ryder, arr. Sam Smith), in which the line “I am a mountain” refers to the overcoming of obstacles in life. There were probably very few in the chorus for whom these lyrics did not resonate – for a start, managing the thousands of miles to come here and sing – but they certainly “hit home” for this listener as well.

With loud cheers and stomping, the audience demanded the encore of Queen’s Don’t Stop Me Now (Freddy Mercury, arr. Caroline Redman Lusher), and it brought the house down. Thank you, Rock Choir, and please come back soon!

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

Ian Hobson, Pianist

Tenri Institute, New York, NY

March 21, 2025

A full house at Tenri Institute Friday enjoyed an evening of Schumann, as renowned pianist Ian Hobson played yet another installment in his cycle of Schumann’s complete piano music (which has included piano-based chamber music). The project started some five years ago just before the pandemic derailed everything, and fortunately for us there are more concerts to go. This particular concert, entitled Colorful Album Leaves, included the Bunte Blätter, Op. 99 (Colorful Leaves) on the first half, and the Albumblätter, Op. 124 (Album Leaves) after intermission, a total of 34 miniatures. Schumann had wanted to call all of these Spreu (meaning “chaff”), as they were amassed over about twenty years of being cast aside. Thankfully, Schumann was dissuaded from using that title, as chaff they are not. In addition to their individual merits, one finds in them elements that illuminate Schumann’s larger works. They are, as the noted music writer Paul Griffiths calls them in his excellent program notes for this concert, “brilliant winnowed flecks.”

Pianist Ian Hobson should need very little introduction (to anyone who has paid attention in the music world for the last four or five decades), but a few words are in order. With some 60 releases in his discography, there is very little he has not covered, from the complete sonatas of Beethoven and Schumann to the complete variations of Brahms. From delving into lesser-known masters (such as Moscheles, Hummel, and Stöhr) to championing works by composers of today (Chumbley, Lees, Gardner, Liptak Ridout, and Wyner), his range is encyclopedic. Launched internationally in 1981 with First Prize in the Leeds International Piano Competition, he is one of those special prizewinning pianists whose momentum seems to have simply grown by the year, whether in the realms of conducting, educating, or cycles of live concerts.

Having heard and reviewed Mr. Hobson several times now, this reviewer has come to think of him as a “big” pianist, the description stemming not from his physical stature (though that happens to apply) or his sound (which also applies), but from his ability to convey the big picture, painting his interpretations in broad brushstrokes, with an architect’s grasp and without fussiness or self-indulgence. Generally one might not expect such a pianist to handle well all the delicate fluctuations of these miniatures – as Schumann can be rather “needy” – but what Mr. Hobson brought to them on this occasion was a refreshing clarity, perhaps akin to his conductor’s overview. In any case, it was welcome. We could enjoy the vista of hills and valleys without getting too lost in the flurry of foliage.

From the first notes the Bunte Blätter Mr. Hobson proved to be in fine form. The first piece in this set had been Schumann’s Christmas message to his wife Clara in 1838, and one could hear the sentiment in the pianist’s warmth of tone and phrasing. No. 2 flew by with Schumann’s characteristic restlessness, and No. 3 found Schumann’s famous alter-ego Florestan presiding. In the melancholy 4th piece (which became the subject for sets of variations by both Clara Schumann in her Op. 20 and Brahms in his Op. 9), we heard from another of Schumann’s alter-egos, Eusebius, and here Mr. Hobson’s control of voices was exceptional. On the subject of control, the little finger of his right hand proved capable throughout the concert of a more penetrating sound than many a flute or violin section. When he chose to highlight an important line, it was with the sonic equivalent of a Sharpie.

In the third and fifth pieces of the Op. 99, plus a few others, the high speed led to the occasional smudge, but this reviewer decided to tune out such imperfections, as there was so much music to absorb. On that topic, a half-century of experience warrants a certain reverence, and “teachable moments” abounded. As an example, there were times when this musician thought, “Oh, there could have been more made of that phrase” – but after two iterations or further development, the “more” would come, and magically so, thanks to not giving in to immediacy.

Favorites included the Sehr langsam (No. 7), in which the suspensions were heart-rending. The Praeludium (No. 10) was also memorable for its stormy drive. Ones that were harder to embrace included the Marsch (No. 11) – with the trio section’s incessant repeated chords emerging as a bit overbearing in this hall – and the Abendmusik (No. 12), which was simply hard to follow. These are not the friendliest of Schumann’s strays, but Mr. Hobson did give them a good home for the evening. He also brought to life the Scherzo (No. 13) and the quirkily humorous Geschwindmarsch.

After intermission, Mr. Hobson emerged with the score to the twenty pieces of Op. 124 (Albumblätter), but only, as he quipped to the audience, to check “which order” they’re in. Indeed, the music sat by the side of the rack, ignored until a quick check for sequence around the twelfth piece.

Highlights of this set included the Walzer (No. 4), which had a welcome liberty about it, and the winsome Wiegenliedchen, though it had more momentum than what one might expect from a lullaby. A less familiar one to this listener, the Burla (No. 12), was delightfully robust, and the next Walzer (No. 15) was beautifully ethereal. The final piece, Canon (No. 20), closed the concert with a hallowed feeling. One already looks forward to the continuation of the cycle on April 25, with a concert entitled Love and Nature III. Looking further down the road, Schumann and Hobson fans can save September 26, 2025 as well.

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

Chloe Chuyue Zhang, piano

Orpheus Classical, 2022

Fans of piano music, particularly Russian piano music, have a new collection to enjoy, the solo debut album of pianist Chloe Chuyue Zhang, released by Orpheus Classical. Listed at some sites as released in 2022, it was recently made available through multiple music platforms (Spotify, Apple Music, and more) and so is listed in some places as a 2025 release. Whichever the date may be, it is definitely worth a listen. It includes Prokofiev’s Seventh Piano Sonata, Op. 83, Rachmaninoff’s Variations on a Theme of Corelli, Op. 42, and Tchaikovsky’s The Seasons, Op. 37a.

It is not easy in this age to release something “new” from these three composers. There are countless excellent pianists  who have played and recorded Prokofiev’s Seventh Sonata and many who have played the Rachmaninoff Corelli Variations (actually based on a theme called La Folia once attributed to Corelli). For just the Prokofiev, the options are great, including Sviatoslav Richter, Vladimir Horowitz, and a virtual pantheon of greats. A search for those who have recorded the Prokofiev and Rachmaninoff yields another formidable list including Mikhail Pletnev, Vladimir Ashkenazy, Valentina Lisitsa, and too many others to name, though in most cases one would need to buy two separate recordings;  a striking feature of Chloe Zhang’s release, however, is the juxtaposition of both of these giants along with Tchaikovsky’s set of twelve miniatures, The Seasons. Although there is also a large catalogue of recordings of the Tchaikovsky set, this reviewer has never encountered the set alongside these two monuments.

It is a fascinating listening experience to hear all three in a row, in reverse chronological order as they are offered here. It is like experiencing a war ending with a cataclysmic battle (not a stretch, with the Prokofiev being one of the three “War Sonatas” from 1942), then collapsing into tearful and cathartic reverie about it all (Rachmaninoff’s Op. 42 dating from 1931, with shadows of war and loss never far) – and, to recover, spending months looking out a window, watching the world go by at a safe distance (from the rural Russia of Tchaikovsky’s The Seasons, 1875). To play all three requires a pianist of excellent technique and a wide range of expressivity, and Chloe Chuyue Zhang has both.

Dr. Zhang, who hails from Shenzhen, China, has achieved quite a few distinctions in music, including numerous concerts and broadcasts in the US, China, and Europe, and several prizes, notably First Prize in the Bradshaw and Buono International Piano Competition. Her studies include an MM degree from The Juilliard School with Jerome Lowenthal and a DMA degree from the Eastman School of Music, with Natalya Antonova. In addition, she has worked  with Robert Levin, Joseph Kalichstein, Alexander Kobrin, Alexander Korsantia, Matti Raekallio, Boris Slutsky, and Martin Canin.

Dr. Zhang’s recording starts off with a strong account of Prokofiev’s Seventh Sonata. She clearly has all the “nuts and bolts” well in hand, and she gives a performance of great clarity and detail. She shifts easily from sharp attacks to muted colors, from rapid repeated notes to stomping bass chords – the whole range. She does tend, overall, to favor staccato articulations where not notated, such as in the opening, but there are naturally varying interpretations possible here. One of my favorites is a performance by Horowitz (Carnegie Hall 1951), who by contrast has a rather slithery legato to start, setting a sinister tone for the movement. Richter’s is more detached – and many have considered him the last word, as Prokofiev entrusted the premiere to him. At any rate, Dr. Zhang’s clean detached approach works well and is intensified by the recording quality, which is exceptionally clear as well.

The second movement begins movingly, with warmth of sound, as marked, caloroso, and its dramatic arch is also built skillfully. One was a bit perplexed by the delivery of some triplets in the poco agitato section (as they seem to resemble a different rhythm), but then again, rhythmic interpretations are not always literal, and without multiple conceptions we wouldn’t need multiple recordings. The overall effect is persuasive.

Dr. Zhang also handles the infamous last movement with dispatch. There seems to be no challenge in it that she cannot handle with ease – and one’s only reservation relates to the fact that it seems almost too easy. It is quite exciting, without question, but this listener wants even more ferocious, unbroken energy (even when in lower dynamic levels). Naturally this is easier to transmit in live performance. In a recording studio, the focusing on details (marking phrase ends, tapering of motives after accents, etc.) can detract a bit from the inexorable drive of the piece. At any rate, she gives the piece an impressive powerhouse finish.

Few works could be more welcome after the Prokofiev than Rachmaninoff’s Op. 42, and this pianist gives the haunting opening theme just the right transparency of tone. Though your reviewer prefers a more gentle, gradual unfolding afterwards in the first variation – and more leggiero feel in the second – it is, all in all, beautifully done. Dr. Zhang in her program notes points out that the Op. 42 is unlike Rachmaninoff’s “more overtly virtuosic” compositions in its nuance and intimacy. That is true, though it has some deceptively difficult technical challenges. She is on top of nearly all of them – from the registral shifts in Variation V to the rather awkward leaps in Variation XX, which are exemplary in her hands. Only in Variation X, with a slight slowing of the parallels, does she betray any hints of strain, but she re-establishes her command with force in Variation XI.  Especially captivating are the harmonic twists and turns in Variation VIII and quixotic changes in Variation XII. To this reviewer, there could be more care in the shaping of phrases in the meltingly beautiful Variation XV – as well as a bit more freedom in the Intermezzo – but overall, the great beauty of this masterpiece comes through.

After the blistering brilliance of the Prokofiev and heart-rending pianism of the Rachmaninoff, the Tchaikovsky character pieces seem almost like playthings, but they are admirable in their own right. They were commissioned in 1875 by Nikolay Matveyevich Bernard, editor of Nouvellist magazine, to be released one per month to the readership, with each piece representing a month of the year (and subtitled by Bernard). If they strike one as salonish, it is because they hearken back to the days when there were pianos in so many homes that a player of moderate ability might have played them (hence amplifying Tchaikovsky’s income). They are worlds away from the Tchaikovsky most of us know for his symphonies and concerti – but several of them, treated as singular gems, have attracted programming by virtuosi – including by Rachmaninoff himself.

To perform the whole set requires special patience, and where Dr. Zhang stands out is that she does not overdo anything. Though these pieces have been used by teachers to cultivate expressiveness in young pianists (resulting sometimes in miniature dramas), Zhang’s playing is notable for its simplicity and restraint. This quality is particularly appropriate in pieces such as January (“By the Hearth”) where, upon repetition of the same phrase – largely the same way – one can envision the recurrence of almost workaday winter pastimes.

February (“Carnival”) is festive in her hands, with ringing clarity, and her March (“Song of the Lark”) follows with melancholy. In April (“Snowdrop”) there is a sparkling, balletic quality, reminding one that Tchaikovsky was just finishing Swan Lake as he composed this – and her stretching at the end is graceful and lovely. May (“Starlit Nights”) conveys both brooding to reveling.

The June movement (“Barcarolle”) is one of the more popular ones in which it is hard to “unhear” the magic of a century of artists who have played it, but Dr. Zhang captures much of its beauty. Perhaps the melody could transcend the meter more at times, but again, this is personal.  The pastoral calm and eventually more bustling feeling of July (“Song of the Reaper”) take us to an August (“Harvest Song”) of frenetic, Schumannesque energy, contrasting with its gentler, more intimate middle section. Shades of Mendelssohn color the prancing September movement (“Hunter’s Song”) and the perennial favorite, October (“Autumn Song”),  exudes special tenderness. The set concludes well with the pianist enjoying the ride of November (“Troika”) and the lilting waltz of December (“Christmas”).

Classical musicians will undoubtedly choose their own favorites to listen to from the entire collection, but it is also worthwhile to hear everything in a row and experience it as a recital. Kudos to Dr. Zhang!

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

Distinguished Concert Singers International

Kenney Potter, Guest Conductor 

Irene Messoloras, Guest Conductor 

Kyle Pederson, DCINY Composer-In-Residence & Piano

Shanelle Gabriel, Spoken Word Artist

The Bethel Choir from Bethel University (MN), Merrin Guice Gill, Director

Crean Lutheran High School Symphony Orchestra (CA), Elliott Bark, Director,

Hyungbin Jung, Guest Conductor

Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

March 16, 2025

In one of their trademark extravaganzas this weekend, Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presented a concert including both choral and orchestral works and entitled “A Vision of Light.” Included were two premieres, the world premiere of Elliot Bark’s Mercy for violin, cello, piano, and orchestra, with the Crean Lutheran High School Symphony Orchestra, and the Carnegie Hall premiere of A Vision Unfolding, a choral work by Kyle Pederson, with the combined choruses of the Distinguished Concerts Singers International. Along with these two premieres were various other selections, including some additional orchestral works, three contrasting songs from the Bethel Choir of Minnesota, and the always transcendent choral music of Ola Gjeilo and Morten Lauridsen to conclude. Apart from the special 3-song segment by the Bethel Choir, the chorus for the afternoon was the Distinguished Concert Singers International including hundreds of singers (from the Barrington United Methodist Church Chancel Choir (IL), Bethel Choir, the Longmont Chorale, the UCI Choir, Mynderse Academy Varsity Chorus, the Irmo High School Chorus, the Peninsula Community Chorus, Spirit Song Choir, Angeles Chorale, the Crean Lutheran High School Chamber Choir & Saints Singers, and the Gloria Deo Academy Choir).

Aside from running too long for most listeners – at over two hours and thirty-five minutes – the concert was, as usual for DCINY, full of uplifting messages, this time centering on the word “light” as inspiration. The presentation of young but serious ensembles is part of the “secret sauce” of DCINY, and, as the Crean Lutheran High School Symphony Orchestra played their portion of the program, one could feel increasing hope for this upcoming generation. They dove into Arturo Márquez’s Danzón No. 2 with precision and didn’t let up on focus for an instant. The guest conductor for this opening was Hyungbin Jung, and he led the orchestra with gusto in a dance of distinctive claves dance rhythms. It seemed that the entire orchestra might just start dancing – and perhaps the audience too.

The premiere of Elliot Bark’s Mercy followed under the baton of the composer, with violinist Andrew Kwon, cellist Janet Park, and pianist Esther Lee as the excellent soloists. The pianist opened with a slow, funereal repetition of middle D which became the start point for implied harmonies and plaintive strains as the violin, cello, and then orchestra joined in a musical “prayer” of sorts. All built quickly to an enormous climax and orchestral tutti, before eventually receding to end with that same lonesome middle D on the piano, now as part of a B-flat major harmony, transformed. If this piece was composed with the goal of exploiting the forces at hand, it did just that, with full strings, winds, brass, percussion and a piano glissando at its peak. What good fortune it is for this fine student orchestra to have this composer at the helm! They concluded their segment of the program with four movements from Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition in the Ravel orchestration – the Promenade, The Gnome, The Hut on Hen’s Legs (Baba Yaga), and The Great Gate of Kiev – all showing the players to great advantage.

After intermission the music was all choral, starting with three selections from the Bethel Choir of Minnesota. Conductor Merrin Guice Gill led them expertly, first through an Alleluia by Elaine Hagenberg (b. 1979). I reviewed a work by this composer last year, citing her gift of pulling at one’s heartstrings – and the same gift graced her Alleluia. Dr. Gill led the singers in drawing out the beauty of each line and harmony. Next came (reversing the printed program order) “Yver, vous n’este qu’un villain” from Trois Chansons – Claude Debussy’s setting of a saucy medieval chastisement of winter, delivered with exactitude in its imitative voices. The set concluded with Hold Fast to Dreams by Roland Carter (b. 1942), an impassioned outpouring with its roots in spirituals. It closed the set powerfully, with good support from Emily Urban at the piano and a very powerful soprano soloist who somehow did not take a separate bow at the end but perhaps ought to have.

Following the Bethel Choir was the premiere of A Vision Unfolding by Kyle Pederson, which dominated the second half. As the program notes tell us, Mr. Pederson was commissioned in 2021 to create a work centering on themes of social justice. He wanted a perspective on this subject beyond his own, so he reached out to poet/songwriter/spoken word artist Shanelle Gabriel for collaboration. The resulting work consists of five movements, set to stirring texts by Robert Bode, Walt Whitman, and Langston Hughes, as well as two by Mr. Pederson and Ms. Gabriel themselves. In addition, Ms. Gabriel was onstage throughout the performance introducing each of the five movements with her own heartfelt spoken word recitations. The music itself was composed in a highly accessible tonal language, with a sweetness that was skillfully broken by movements of more determination. Highlights included the first movement “Reach Down, Lord” in which the word “reach” was repeated to percussive effect, as well as the rhythmic piano part in “Beat! Drums!” (played the composer himself, Mr. Pederson). Guest instrumentalists were violinist Emanouil Manolov and – particularly important in the drive of “Beat! Drums!” – trumpeter Christopher Bubolz with snare drummer Charles Kiger. The spoken word as recited by the chorus, when not singing, was also striking and was beautifully held together by conductor Kenney Potter. Though this large work has already had performances, this was its Carnegie Hall premiere, and one can imagine it growing quite popular among the many choruses across the country, especially if movements can be excerpted.

This reviewer’s chief reservation about the program pertained to length. With two of my favorite works yet to come, Ubi Caritas by Ola Gjeilo and Lux Aeterna by Morten Lauridsen, I was already too maxed out to truly experience them as the beauties they are – though beautifully performed as expected, with Irene Messoloras conducting and Philip Hoch at the organ. Lest I be put out to pasture for what may seem a matter of stamina, there were teenagers seated behind me snoring from fatigue. Music is a joy to share, but timing is everything, as the art itself exists in time. The readiness of listeners must not be taken for granted, no matter how manageable the selections may seem to those planning them in the abstract (along with prolonged entries and exits). As this reviewer has commented before, one can move from painting to painting in a museum or from offering to offering at a feast without partaking to excess in either case; with music, however, the only recourse when faced with excess is to leave during a concert, something considered rude by many and an impossibility for a reviewer.

With more sensitivity in their programming, DCINY will undoubtedly continue to fill their important role bringing throngs together in love of music.

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

Justin Bischof, conductor and artistic director

Alexandre Moutouzkine, pianist

Merkin Hall at the Kaufman Music Center New York, NY

March 12, 2025

The Modus Operandi Orchestra (MOO) outdid itself this week (and that says a lot) in a tremendous all-Beethoven concert at Merkin Hall at the Kaufman Music Center, billing their program as “The Three Bs – Beethoven, Beethoven, and Beethoven” (riffing, of course, on the musical reference to “the three Bs” as Bach, Beethoven, and Brahms). The “three” part referred to the three works, in this case the Coriolan Overture Op. 62, the Piano Concerto No. 5 (“Emperor”), Op. 73, and the Symphony No. 7, Op. 92 – all masterpieces in their respective forms.

With David Geffen Hall, Alice Tully Hall, and other famous venues just a few blocks away – along with conservatory orchestras and concerts galore – it was heartening to see that Merkin Hall was packed with people so excited to hear a program of (presumably) familiar classics. A cheering crowd seemed to know they were in for a memorable night – and they were (including, we were told, thirty-two veterans and friends from the Manhattan School of Music and the Emet Classical Academy). The soloist for the Beethoven Concerto No. 5 would be brilliant Russian-American pianist Alexandre Moutouzkine, who has played with over sixty orchestras across the globe and garnered innumerable accolades (including from New York Concert Review), and the conductor would be, as ever for this orchestra, Justin Bischof, who is also artistic director for MOO (plus organist, fund-raiser, educator, and wearer of countless other hats). The orchestra would be, as it has proven repeatedly to be, a superb combination of some of the top-notch pros in the area, including concertmaster Eiko Kano (who is also the concertmaster for the Pegasus Orchestra and plays for various prominent orchestras in New York) and on this occasion thirty-three other instrumentalists. The Modus Operandi Orchestra may not rack up the hours of rehearsal that other full-time orchestras do, but – to play with another saying – sometimes the best things in life are freelance. There was often an edge-of-seat intensity to their playing that one sometimes misses in full-time orchestras.

Some may assume that there would have to be some trade-off between intensity and polish, but any such idea was dispelled right from the perilous opening chords of the overture. They were as close to perfection in timing of attacks and cutoffs as one could hope to hear. Those enjoying Maestro Bischof’s easygoing manner as raconteur might also not be braced for the ferocity of his musicianship, but after a succinct account of the story behind the Coriolan Overture, he wrung every bit of musical drama from its dualities, from the warring timpani to the imploring violins and every undercurrent along the way.

Incidentally, this reviewer had heard the Modus Operandi Orchestra play a portion of this program two years ago at St. Mary’s Church (Long Island City), where (as part of a Vienna-themed program) they paired the Coriolan Overture and 7th Symphony with a Mozart motet, aria, and symphony (the “Haffner” K. 385). The heft was definitely increased by the addition of the “Emperor” Concerto to the other Beethoven – and though it is generally agreed upon that the name “Emperor” did not come from Beethoven (nor have any relationship to the work) the name is considered by some to have stemmed from its immediate standing as a crowning achievement – or “Emperor”-  among piano concerti. It requires a pianist of consummate abilities, and the choice of Alexandre Moutouzkine, with his impressive array of credentials, was not surprising.

Mr. Moutouzkine showed many of the qualities which undoubtedly contributed to his being chosen as major prizewinner and laureate in many important competitions (Arthur Rubinstein, Montreal, and many more). He is, first of all, reliable to the point of nearly note-perfect performances. On top of that, he is a sensitive collaborator. One of the highest virtues, in this reviewer’s opinion, is the ability to play a concerto as chamber music, and Mr. Moutouzkine does just that. Far beyond merely listening to the orchestra intently at crucial junctures, he appears to be living the music each moment, whether he is playing or not. (If this seems like an obvious sine qua non, this reviewer has heard many soloists without that habit – including one famous violinist who would tweak her shoes with her bow during orchestral sections, inviting speculation about just how much gum she might be removing). There was no question at this concert that the piano and orchestra were united throughout. Still more remarkable, Mr. Moutouzkine showed the ability to adjust by a nanosecond even in the middle of complex passages to facilitate imminent meeting points. His intelligence and mastery were always clear.

Quibbles are inevitable, when a reviewer has a lifetime of adoring a piece, but there were very few. One wish was for just a bit more breathing room in the espressivo moments and for the longer notes of the opening cadenzas. There was also – perhaps due to the piano itself – a tendency for forte and fortissimo sounds to verge on harshness, intensified by the necessary placement of the instrument so close to the edge of the stage in this small hall (such that the piano sound for seats near the front was overwhelming). The extremes of loudness were most conspicuous in the longest string of octaves in the first movement – as well as some of the almost Czerny-esque left-hand finger-work – but because Beethoven’s works are organic wholes, the already wide dynamic range became hard to process. Some pianissimo sections were also so extreme (perhaps from an abundance of caution with the resonance), that they felt by contrast as if they had come from a different planet from the fortes, rather than sharing the same musical “DNA” as the rest of the piece.

Whatever ideals there may be for such music, all in all Mr. Moutouzkine’s performance was outstanding, full of emotion and brilliance that had the audience unable to contain its applause even after just the first movement. The meltingly beautiful second movement had all the tender care it invites, and the rousing finale was victorious.

After intermission, the MOO celebrated Beethoven with the Seventh Symphony, one of Beethoven’s most beloved works and one that even Beethoven himself considered one of his finest. As Maestro Bischof shared, it is a work which even in its premiere elicited an encore of the second movement – then quipping, “we’re not going to do that.”

The orchestra’s performance of this work seemed to have grown even stronger since their 2023

Vienna-themed concert. This reviewer had singled out special contributions then (e.g., the flutes and horns), but that would be hard to do at this concert, as the entire orchestra truly shone. Having been seated right below the cellists, bassists, and timpanist, one could not help admiring them in particular throughout the concert – but all players gave their all. Maestro Bischof’s sensitive approach to the profound Allegretto brought back the tragic spirit that had opened the program with the Coriolan, and he led us through Beethoven’s miraculous transformations. The ensuing Presto was infectiously jubilant, and the Finale was a triumph. Both seemed to emanate from much larger forces than were present.

In summary, the evening was a tremendous tribute to Beethoven. In lieu of an encore, one could only leave with the music in one’s mind, thinking how fortunate the world is to have had Beethoven – and how fortunate New Yorkers are to have the Modus Operandi Orchestra and their illustrious guest artists.

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

Thomas Nickell, pianist

Tenri Cultural Institute,  New York, NY

March 14, 2025

A capacity crowd gathered to hear composer and pianist Thomas Nickell at the Tenri Cultural Institute this week and enjoyed an evening of the music of Frédéric Chopin that in some ways hearkened back to salon recitals of yore – from the intimacy of the venue (and free-flowing wine) to the family friendliness of the audience. The program included several of Chopin’s most beloved masterpieces, plus some shorter selections. Starting with the Fantasy Op. 49, Mr. Nickell followed with the last six preludes from Op. 28, and then the Berceuse, Op. 57, and the Barcarolle, Op. 60, before intermission. The second half opened with the Four Mazurkas, Op. 24, followed by the first three Scherzi. It was curated nicely for dramatic trajectories and contrasts, taking the audience on a journey that was never dull.

A reviewer hears many highly polished conservatory players who quite often resemble so many cookies from the same batch. There may not be much of a sense of programming sometimes (or awareness of the audience’s “journey”) – and not always a great sense of individual spirit either – but the elements of the score, certainly the notes, tend to all be there from hours of thorough practice. This concert was almost the reverse. There was indeed spirit in each moment – and ideas galore – but sometimes there was just a bit too much “riding roughshod” over the music for a true devotee of Chopin to enjoy. To restate a criticism made in another review from 2023, Mr. Nickell left “a few too many details obscured or glossed over … and one hesitates even to use such a potentially dismissive term as ‘detail’ in discussing the finely wrought creations of Chopin.” It is easy to chalk up a “big picture” tendency to the fact that a performer is also a composer, but more on that later.

The Fantaisie in F minor, Op. 49, was one of the strongest offerings, though there was some sketchiness in the fingerwork surprisingly early on and a few rhythmic anomalies in the B-major section (no, not rubato – as one can tell the difference). What was great was the emotional narrative of the piece – always strongly projected. Mr. Nickell transmitted to the audience what must be his own love of the work, and he did it with warmth of tone and a personal feeling for highlights – as a tour guide might take a visitor to his favorite spots. It underscored for this reviewer how much Mr. Nickell has grown as a pianist and musician in recent years.

The six selections from Op. 28 were less compelling. Prelude No. 19 in E-flat major, understandably a difficult one, needed more accuracy, delicacy, and attention to polish. No. 21 in B-flat major found the left hand obscuring the right. No. 22 in G minor got swept away with emotion – not a bad thing in itself, but it resulted in some mishaps, notably the crucial low C-sharp octave near the end. No. 24 in D minor was quite dramatic – as it needs to be – but needed more attention to the descending thirds. Pianists routinely impale themselves on these, but this reviewer believes that such hurdles can be overcome with lots of careful work, if the piece as a whole means enough to the player. The final three notes were earthshaking – as they should be.

It was particularly beautiful to hear, after such storming, the Berceuse (Lullaby), Op. 57. When this reviewer mentioned earlier the care taken in curating a program, this choice was one of the examples. The juxtaposition was potent. There are always quibbles, however, and there were some here. As anyone who has played this work knows, the left hand repeats its steady rocking pattern nearly exactly throughout the piece, but with sometimes an E-flat and sometimes a C on the fourth eighth of each measure – and it actually matters, because of what is in the right hand. Without the correct notes, doubled C’s or E-flats arise, among other issues. Cringes ensue, the baby awakens, and war breaks out. Well, perhaps that is an exaggeration, but the point stands. If it is worth playing at all, it is worth fine-tuning – and that includes mastery of the later filigree as well, which needed neatening (perhaps with more hand-rotation). Great pianists have famously agonized over accuracy in recording this work – long before the days of splicing and high-tech fixes – and though a live performance is not the same as a recording, it should matter no less.

The Barcarolle closed the first half with another strong performance. Its magnificence was in full sail, and undoubtedly those in the audience who may never have heard the piece before will now feel the pull towards more Chopin. They gave a rousing ovation before the break. Bravo!

After intermission we heard the Four Mazurkas, Op. 24. Considering how many mazurkas Chopin composed, it is a shame that we don’t hear them in live programs more often, so it was a joy that Mr. Nickell programmed these. He brought out much of the originality and “newness” of them, whether through the crispness of the Lydian-flavored No. 2, the chromaticism of No. 3 (which, with overholding of thirty-second notes, sounded like blocked sevenths), and the robust rhythms and metric surprises in all four. They were a joy.

Some of Mr. Nickell’s liberties seemed gratuitous even in these dances (such as the turning of some quarter-note upbeats into eighths at will in No. 3), and though we are no longer in this reviewer’s dinosaur-age school days where such playing would have elicited screeds (“if Chopin had wanted a quarter note, he knew how to write one”), the score is always the starting point. We often hear about the spirit of the law in opposition to the letter of the law in music – but why not have both?

The program concluded with much fire via the first three of the Scherzi, but again sometimes speed took the place of what constitutes true brilliance (generally including the presence of all notes, articulations, and markings, regardless of speed). No. 1 in B minor found excessive haste leading to blurs, omissions, and messiness, including in the big chromatic run at the end, and there were similar results in Nos. 2 and 3. Though there was a certain excitement always, the music devolved at times into mere washes and gestures. Let there be no mistake, we need those gestures, but if everything becomes a glossing-over or gesture, the performance starts to sound like a summary, as if the performer is showing us something approximating “how it would go” if we played it. Listeners may get “the gist” of it, but we generally want more than the gist at a concert. A lecture-demonstration may be different, and one has a hunch that Mr. Nickell may have some of those in his future.

As your reviewer here has written before, Mr. Nickell is a promising young composer as well as pianist. This warrants mention, in reference to a point made earlier. Composers are often cited for performing with less than full attention to detail, perhaps due to their own imaginations’ tendency to grasp what they consider the essence of a piece immediately (and likewise, their desire to transmit it immediately). There also may be issues of time demands, as a composer needing to copy fifteen-part scores may simply not have time to practice scales and passagework. In any case, when we consider what effort Chopin took to write each note and marking (naturally long before the advent of music software), with dozens of carefully chosen pitches and note values constituting each “wash” or gesture, and all organically part of the whole work, we generally feel an awe that compels us to devote no less effort in relaying it – as servants in a way. One would imagine that a composer, perhaps even more than other musicians, might agree out of sheer compassion.

At any rate, when some time is invested in more of the nuts and bolts, there will be yet another reason to hear Mr. Nickell. There are already many.

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

José Navarro-Silberstein, pianist

Merkin Hall at the Kaufmann Music Center, New York, NY

February 28, 2025

An exciting evening of piano music – largely South American – kicked off the musical weekend, as Bolivian pianist José Navarro-Silberstein gave his New York recital debut at Merkin Hall, presented by Kantuta Concerts under the auspices of the Foundation for Bolivian Artists. A program dominated by music of Argentina, Bolivia, and Brazil, via Eduardo Caba, Alberto Ginastera, Marvin Sandi, and Heitor Villa-Lobos, it also included a few selections by European composers Franz Liszt and Ferrucio Busoni. Folk influence was present in all, emerging as one aspect of what the concert’s promotional materials termed “the artistic dialogue between Latin American and European composers, exploring how they have influenced and inspired each other over time.”

More specifically, the Foundation for Bolivian Artists and Kantuta Concerts, founded and run by Bolivian compatriot Walter Aparicio (who for full disclosure also writes for New York Concert Review), has a mission to promote and expand awareness of Bolivian art and artists. From Mr. Aparicio’s spoken introduction to the concert, it was clear that Kantuta, now in its second year, is well on its way. A few audience members in the packed hall unfurled a Bolivian flag across their row to underscore just that, though the performances by Mr. Navarro-Silberstein accomplished as much through music.

The reader can find Mr. Navarro-Silberstein’s biography at his website (José Navarro-Silberstein), but to summarize, in addition to garnering some impressive prizes, his performances have taken him to Germany, the UK, France, Spain, Austria, Italy, Belgium, the Netherlands, Switzerland, Slovenia, Croatia, Georgia, Lithuania, Chile and Bolivia. As a soloist, he has performed with the Jena Philharmonic Orchestra, Norddeutsche Philharmonie Rostock, Georgian Philharmonic Orchestra, La Paz Symphony Orchestra, Orquesta de Jóvenes Musicos Bolivianos, and Orquesta Sinfónica Juvenil de Santa Cruz de la Sierra. His debut CD “Vibrant Rhythms” recently released by GENUIN Classics and containing some of the same repertoire he performed at Merkin, has already received international acclaim.

After nearly two decades of writing music reviews (among other musical pursuits), it was a treat for this reviewer to attend a concert that included the work of several completely unfamiliar composers – in this case, the two Bolivian composers, Eduardo Caba (1890-1953) and Marvin Sandi (1938-68); for that awakening in itself, Kantuta is to be congratulated. The opening Caba pieces were beguiling in Mr. Navarro-Silberstein’s sensitive reading. We heard Nos. 1, 4, and 9 from the set entitled Aires Indios (de Bolivia) from 1937. No 1 was a gentle melodic piece, rather reminiscent of some of Grieg’s lyrical miniatures (or even MacDowell’s) in innocence and directness – though of course no country or composer has a lock on pastoral beauty. The second piece reflected more characteristically Latin rhythms, and the final selection brought to mind Ravel’s fountains and fourths. It seems plausible that Caba (who had studied in Europe with Turina – who had studied in Paris) may have absorbed some second-hand influence there. Anyway, it was fascinating to hear, and Mr. Navarro-Silberstein played all three persuasively.

To skip ahead to the other Bolivian composer, Marvin Sandi, we heard Ritmos Panteísticos, Op. 1a (1957) in the first half and In Memoriam (Homenaje a Caba), Op. 1b (1958) to open the second half. Both works of this short-lived composer were composed around age nineteen. In Ritmos Panteísticos, the opening movement “…de la roca” found the pianist enjoying the clashing sonorities that brought to mind Ginastera (as in the Danza del gaucho matrero). The second and third movements, “…de la luz” and “…de la luna,” conveyed the spaciousness one associates with the Andean landscape of the composer’s homeland – with still more tonal exploration,  and the final motoric “…del sexo” closed the set with insistent rhythmic drive projected powerfully by Mr. Navarro-Silberstein. The meditative In Memoriam (Homenaje a Caba) after intermission opened rather severely, with dramatic left hand octaves, but it melted into such soulful lyricism that one could only feel even sadder that the composer did not have many more years of creativity.

More familiar South American fare included  Suite de Danzas Criollas, Op. 15 (1957), by Ginastera and Ciclo Brasileiro, W. 374 (1936-1937), by Villa-Lobos. Mr. Navarro maximized the tenderness in the opening Adagietto of the Danzas Criollas and took us on a wild ride through the rugged turf of the Allegro rustico. He entranced us with the 11/8 meter in the third movement – and made further magic of the fourth, with its play of major and minor seconds that had one thinking of Bartók. He unleashed superhuman energy in the Scherzando – with the coda drawing cheers from the audience. The Villa-Lobos Ciclo that closed the program was similarly brimming with life. Highlights were the dreamily melodic Plantio do caboclo, the famously brilliant Festa no sertão, and the fiery Dança do Índio branco. Together they were an impassioned triumph.

Much of the South American music had a listener wondering whether the pianist would be equally at home in Liszt and Busoni, and the answer emerged as a “yes.” Though (at the risk of having to dodge tomatoes) this listener has never been a fan of the Busoni Indian Diary as more than a curiosity, with its mercurial shifts of eclectic material seeming rather alien to the folk motifs it is based on, but it was still fascinating to hear live – and not a common occurrence, so worth the inclusion (especially given the theme of transcontinental “dialogue” used to promote the program).

As for the Liszt Rhapsody No. 9, Mr. Navarro-Silberstein showed that no pyrotechnics are beyond his grasp – from coruscating runs to blazing octaves. In terms of style, it does seem that he may have missed the opportunity, in the moderato a capriccio, to establish a tempo that was slow and elastic enough to free up the whimsical right-hand elaborations without violating or straitjacketing the left hand, but such preferences always increase with familiarity (and this listener finds it hard to “unhear” a favorite rendition by Cziffra). In any case, Mr. Navarro-Silberstein can be extremely proud of what was an amazing feat – especially on a program that was already so demanding.

One suggestion for the next concert would be the inclusion of program notes, since, especially with a few lesser-known composers slated and the presenter’s mission of increasing awareness of Bolivian music, it would have been educational for the audience. Then again, it is possible that some inserted notes existed, but went missing in the folding, as there was spoken reference from the stage to some other information that was also not found.

Mr. Navarro-Silberstein rewarded a hearty standing ovation with two lovely encores, the first, a Bolivian folk song, and the second, Mihaud’s Corocovado from Saudades Do Brasil. It was a highly auspicious debut for an outstanding pianist who will be well worth following.

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