New England Symphonic Ensemble; Preston Hawes, Artistic Director

Michael Glasgow, composer/conductor

Haley Sicking, soprano; Michael Kelley, baritone

Isaac Stern Auditorium, Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

June 6, 2026

The New England Symphonic Ensemble, under the auspices of MidAmerica Productions (MAP), continued their impressive concert schedule at Carnegie Hall this weekend in a program pairing them with choruses from far and wide, in music from the Baroque period to the present. From Vivaldi’s Gloria in D major (RV 589) and Schubert’s Mass No. 2 in G major (D. 167) to Elaine’s Hagenberg’s Illuminare and Michael J. Glasgow’s Gloria, MAP offered its usual surfeit of riches. I was assigned, though, to review just the Glasgow piece which closed the program, so will keep this review focused on that. To cite just a few highlights leading up to it, though, there was some captivating solo work from mezzo-soprano Jordan Seguin-Gascoigne (in the Vivaldi, the Dominus Deus agnus Dei in particular) and from baritone Robbie Raso (in the Schubert, Agnus Dei, in particular). Elaine Hagenberg, whose music I reviewed favorably in 2024 and 2025, did not disappoint.  The guest conductors, Yelitza Green, Jay Dunn, Jed Hyun Ragsdale, and Scott L. Martin, were commendable in corralling the forces.

By 10:40pm (with the concert having started at 8:30), the performers finally filed onstage for the Glasgow Gloria to finish well after 11pm.It did something of a disservice to Mr. Glasgow (and to his audience) to have so much preceding what would be a thirty-plus-minute work. With two intermissions for multiple choruses to file in and out through the course of the evening (and their respective fans in the audience doing much the same) such extravaganzas – as festive as they are – can easily devolve into a string of “selfie” opportunities. This reviewer was starting to think that nothing short of an explosion would reclaim the musical focus.  As luck would have it, the musical equivalent was imminent.

Michael J. Glasgow walked onstage to conduct his own piece, and at the very opening of the first movement (of three) he led the orchestra in such a massive buildup of brass and percussion – with a cymbal swell to a full impassioned choral tutti – that one wondered where it could possibly go from there. Sure enough, though, it was just the first of multiple peaks. Though the declamatory opening was followed by a drop in dynamics, there was no drop in energy. The momentum continued in pulsing rhythms (of 3,3,2) to build again – and again – throughout the work. The excellent orchestral players sustained it well, and the agile Mr. Glasgow, seeming almost ready for liftoff, led with exuberance. The singers combined with the orchestra in a massive sound, producing a potency worthy of the words Gloria in excelsis Deo. As the composer states in his notes, “I’ve taken care to ensure that this Gloria actually sounds like what it says: the first movement is one of jubilant praise and faith.”

For those unfamiliar with Mr. Glasgow there is much to read at his website (Michael J. Glasgow), but suffice it to say this was not his first Carnegie Hall appearance, nor even the first Carnegie performance of his Gloria, which had its world premiere there in 2022, after a pandemic forced its postponement.

Settings of the Gloria within masses are many, and the standalone settings number quite a few as well, but this was clearly a Gloria reflective of its time, a twenty-first-century expression distinct from its predecessors. If the opening of the Gloria unleashed the heroic might one associates with blockbuster film scores, a more contemplative section of the first movement had the harmonic familiarity of a simple pop ballad. Occasionally such juxtapositions gave the piece a feeling of having been “assembled” (as opposed to unified organically) but transitions were helped along by skillful orchestration – and, after all, such styles and contrasts reflect much about our time. Just as the more intimate mood and texture were established, the beautifully complementary voices of soprano Haley Sicking and baritone Michael Kelley sent the music skyward again to still more exultant heights. After multiple fanfares, climaxes, and an abundance of “bells and whistles” (or in this case bells and cymbals), one might be tempted to call such writing “over the top” but given the subject of the text, what should one expect? The audience was so taken with the first movement that it couldn’t refrain from applauding. Mr. Glasgow has many fans, and the choristers were surely among them, described on the program simply as “Friends of composer Michael J. Glasgow (from throughout the USA).”

The second movement, described by Mr. Glasgow as “a quiet prayer” with the text qui tollis peccata mundi  (“who takes away the sins of the world”), was actually the first part of the piece he composed. As he recounts it, “The last day of November 2018 was what I identified as a ‘despairing day,’ and as is often the case in difficult times, I composed music for comfort. The fruit of my labor that day was the introduction and coda of the second movement. I didn’t know what would happen with the rest of the work (I didn’t even know what would happen with the rest of the second movement!), but I knew that the music I had created – which completely redeemed my ‘despairing day’ – would one day bookend the middle movement of a three-part Gloria.” If only everyone’s despairing days were so fruitful!

Though composers have traditionally and understandably set the peccata mundi (“sins of the world”) to dark harmonies and dissonances, the comfort of this setting’s initial inspiration seems to have bathed the movement in a wash of relative tranquility. The mood seems less from the “despairing day” and more from redemption of it – fair enough – more tollis than peccata. Though the composer’s notes mention setting those central words peccata mundi in a minor key, the bulk of the movement is actually dominated by major harmonies. It was a surprise to hear, but thankfully, composers can shine their musical “light” where they choose, even in traditional texts. It still offered contrast between the buoyant outer movements.

The third and final movement (and this reviewer’s favorite) was set to the Quoniam tu solus sanctus (“For Thou alone art holy”). It took back up some of the material of the first movement and developed it expertly.  As the composer writes, “the final movement is an explosive celebration of mixed meter (with more than 70 time-signature changes), syncopation and cross-rhythms, culminating in ecstatic Amens that I envisioned as ‘an amazing party that you don’t want to leave.’” Indeed, and it was remarkable, after such a full evening, to see that he was able to rouse audience so thoroughly. What might have seemed like excess in the opening movement felt just right in the third, with crescendo upon crescendo and all the stops pulled out, towards an ecstatic finish. Michael J. Glasgow knows how to keep a chorus “on its toes” tossing material excitedly from voice to voice and building momentum, so one can expect this work to gain increasing popularity in the choral world. This chorus was “all in” and so was the audience, who gave it a standing ovation.

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

Michael Bragagnolo, Tenor; Jan Kriz, Tenor; Pavel Vitek, Baritenor; Marian Vojtko, Tenor

Special Guest Singers: Daniel Assetta, Heather Makalani, Rachel Zatcoff

​Instrumental Musicians: Frantisek Krticka, Piano; Craig Klonowski, Guitar;

Chrystelle Catalano, Violin; Viktor Jan Kuru, Violin; Vladan Malinjak, Viola; Simon Marek, Cello

Zankel Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

May 11, 2026

The sensational singing group known as 4 Musical Tenors (or 4 Tenoři to their base of the Czech Republic) made a highly successful return to New York this Monday, inspiring their audience at Carnegie (Zankel Hall) to several standing ovations. A crossover group in the style of their predecessors, the Three Tenors (Pavarotti, Domingo, and Carreras), they combine operatic selections and popular showtunes. Based on this concert, they tend to favor the latter, but they proved to have ample gifts in both areas. Having elicited comparison to other renowned groups such as Il Divo and Il Volo, they have had several Gold and Platinum albums in Europe and have accumulated more than 16 million views on YouTube. They even drew a good-sized crowd to Zankel Hall on a Monday evening, not always an ideal time. The audience, as well as including several dignitaries from the Consulates of the Czech Republic and Slovakia, included some youngsters, which was nice to see. A portion of the proceeds from the concert were to go to the organization Broadway Cares.

 The concert opened dramatically with an instrumental ensemble onstage (a piano, guitar, and string quartet) setting the mood for the first selection, “This is the Moment” from Jekyll & Hyde (Wildhorn). After a brief musical introduction, the four charismatic tenors  strode onstage – Michael Bragagnolo, Jan Kriz, Pavel Vitek, and Marian Vojtko. The feeling was, as their opening title suggests, momentous, and they moved seamlessly from exchanging solo lines to converging in powerful harmonizations. The sound was miked, with several speakers spanning the stage, but one had the sense that all would have been sufficiently powerful to fill the hall with no amplification.

Jan Kriz introduced the next selection, as he did through much of the evening, and the four followed with “Never Enough” from The Greatest Showman (Benj Pasek/Justin Paul), riding the tide of their energetic opening. The next two selections were from musicals by Andrew Lloyd Webber, starting with “Love Changes Everything” from Aspects of Love. It opened with a touching gentleness, setting up what would be a long build-up from all four. It was quite moving.

Shifting to a more comedic note, Jan Kriz took the spotlight for the next Webber selection, “King Herod’s Song” from Jesus Christ Superstar, a rock opera which he described as a favorite of his since childhood. He added that with such a small ensemble as theirs, there were few songs he could select from this rock opera. Though this listener can’t quite agree (thinking “I Don’t Know How to Love Him” – with its heavy debt to Chopin’s Op. 35 – could also work with a small ensemble), Mr. Kriz did a splendid job. As many know, there is a special appeal in playing the villain, and Mr. Kriz did so with exceptionally nasty relish. The pianist, Frantisek Krticka, unleashed his own wicked vaudevillian fire to match. Beyond this, the singers had great support all evening from guitarist Craig Klonowski, violinists Chrystelle Catalano and Viktor Jan Kuru, violist Vladan Malinjak, and cellist Simon Marek.

For the next selection, “A Whole New World” from Aladdin (Alan Menken) the group introduced their first special guest, soprano Heather Malakani, joined by the four tenors. Ms. Malakani seemed in her element singing as Princess Jasmine, a role she has sung extensively. Her lovely soprano sound balanced beautifully with the four lower voices. She then took the solo spotlight with “Astonishing” from Little Women (Jason Howland). Here was a more intimate outpouring, and she plumbed its depths with drama and passion, receiving a loud cheering ovation.

4 Musical Tenors & Friends. Photo Credit: Rebecca J. Michelson

Emotions of longing continued to flow as the four tenors returned to the stage for a stirring rendition of “Bring Him Home” from Les Misérables (C. Schönberg). It was clear that all four felt a strong attachment to this musical, having all played roles in it, and their performance was heart-rending. It led well to the evening’s only true opera aria, Puccini’s “Nessun Dorma” from Turandot, sung by Michael Bragagnolo (described in introductory remarks as the most operatic of the four tenors, with a nod to his Italian roots). Mr. Bragagnolo’s powerful operatic resonance was commanding, right up to the infamous high B in the final word “vincerò” which typically leaves an audience gasping – this audience being no exception.

Shifting away from opera, the four singers then reconvened for “Can’t Help Falling in Love” (made famous by Elvis Presley and featured in the musical All Shook Up (Peretti / Creatore / Weiss). It was a beauty, as was the subsequent selection,  the nostalgic “Massachusetts” (B. Gibb/R. Gibb/M. Gibb). The latter was introduced with an invitation for the audience to join in – and one cringed slightly at the thought, as such a song can be rather unforgiving for “herd singing” – but mercifully the only singing was from the stage. Sometimes it’s best to leave such things to experts – and they came through beautifully.

Four Sondheim hits followed, including the first solo for Pavel Vitek, “Send in the Clowns” from A Little Night Music. Mr. Vitek captured its melancholy perfectly, with poignant pauses just where they would convey the song’s spirit the most. A Bernstein-Sondheim collaboration followed, with all four tenors savoring the perennial favorite “Maria” from West Side Story. More from West Side Story would be heard, with their second special guest Daniel Assetta joining the quartet, but first Mr. Assetta took the spotlight with Sondheim’s “Losing My Mind” from Follies. This listener has never been a huge fan of this song, but Mr. Assetta’s thoughtful and persuasive interpretation really “sold” it, showing what artistry can do. “Somewhere” from West Side Story (Bernstein/Sondheim) found all four tenors returning to form a quintet with Mr. Assetta to good effect.

After what was close to an hour of music (and what might have been time for intermission, had there been one) there were six songs left, the first four by Andrew Lloyd Webber. The first Webber selection was “Till I Hear You Sing” from Love Never Dies, performed by the four tenors with great tenderness. The following three were from The Phantom of the Opera, starting with”The Music of The Night” with Marian Vojtko as soloist. Mr. Vojtko, who has sung the title  role in productions of the musical, exhibited a huge range, from his breathy opening to his expansive development and peaks in an extreme treble register. One had noticed throughout the evening that Mr. Vojtko had shown a supportive versatility in the ensemble pieces – but here it was front and center.

The evening’s third and final guest, Rachel Zatcoff, was introduced next to continue the Webber-fest, and she took the stage for “Think of Me” (again from The Phantom of the Opera). Having sung the role of Christine in this musical, she was clearly in her comfort zone, and she gave the song a virtuosic ride, complete with dazzling high notes in a cadenza near its close. The audience seemed enthralled and gave her a standing ovation. Mr. Vojtko and then the rest of the quartet came on to join her in the title number, “The Phantom Of The Opera,”  cranking up the drama alongside still more stratospheric high notes from Ms. Zatcoff.

The group then announced that their final song would be next, “You Raise Me Up” by Rolf Løvland  – it was beautifully done, but this listener was sad, as the program had also listed a finale of “Seasons of Love,” from Rent (Jonathan Larson) – a seemingly perfect closer. As it turned out though, the Rent hit was performed afterwards, and it brought the house down. All seven singers came onstage to cap off what was truly a memorable evening – and for this, the audience did join in, unasked.

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

Robert Radliff, violin; Sharon Niessen, piano

St. Monica’s Church, New York, NY

April 19, 2026

Brightening a dreary afternoon this Sunday, the Saint Monica Concert Series presented a program of three French masterpieces played by the excellent duo of violinist Robert Radliff and pianist Sharon Niessen. The concert, entitled Les Trois Sonates, included sonatas for violin and piano by Franck, Debussy, and Ravel.

There were no printed programs, which also meant no printed biographies of the artists, but one could glean from a brief web search that Mr. Radliff received his B.M. degree from Peabody Conservatory and his M.A. degree from Montclair State University. His years of experience as a soloist, chamber musician, and orchestral violinist were made apparent through his ease at the instrument. Ms. Niessen, whose website was more easily accessed, is credited with various prizes and performances, as well as studies with Ton Demmers, Jan Wijn, and Joop Celis at the Conservatory of Amsterdam and Fontys Academy of Music and Performing Arts in Tilburg. Her biography can be found here: Sharon Niessen. The duo’s dedication to these works is clear from other concerts featuring the same program.

The duo opened their concert with one of this musician’s favorites, Maurice Ravel’s wonderful Violin Sonata No. 2 (composed 1923-27, often referred to as simply “Ravel’s Violin Sonata” without any number, as it overshadows the posthumously published Sonata No. 1). From the opening movement’s first statement in the piano and on through the conversational alternation of themes and shifting colors, the duo captured Ravel’s curious mixture of brooding and magical mischief. Both performers played with intense commitment, projecting large gestures and lush sonorities even through the church’s acoustics, which (as with so many churches) tended to obscure some details. Some contrasts of articulation were awash with what verged on a sonic fog, but the beauty of the music still shone through.

The jazz-infused second movement, Blues, was a joy, though it seemed that the pizzicato chords at the start could have been more pronounced (despite being marked pianissimo) to give the louder bursts something from which to rebound; all in all, however, the spirit felt just right. Even when something in the sanctuary area started to cause some sort of steam-like hissing sound towards the end of the second movement –  yet another distraction – the music prevailed. The third movement’s Perpetuum mobile made for a brilliant finale, with especially impressive pyrotechnics from Mr. Radliff, who had described it to the audience as “a barn-burner.” Both performers made it live up to that description. The audience offered their hearty applause.

On the subject of the audience, it was inspiring to note that very few rows were completely empty in the large space of St. Monica’s church. For such a young series (founded in 2019, and with the pandemic interrupting things subsequently), the series seems to have been more than welcomed by the Yorkville area of Manhattan. It was also encouraging to note that, even without printed programs for guidance, one could hear the proverbial pin drop between movements. There were no interruptions of applause or shuffling noises throughout the entire concert.

After the Ravel, we heard César Franck’s Sonata in A major for Violin and Piano, (composed in 1886 as a wedding gift to the violinist Eugène Ysaÿe). This work has long been considered one of the crown jewels of the violin-piano repertoire, and though it has been plundered by arrangers for numerous other instruments, it truly seems most “at home” on the violin. It was played with sincere dedication by Mr. Radliff and Ms. Niessen duo. Memorable aspects included the expansive phrasing in the opening Allegretto, the pianistic ease in the tricky second movement, and the violin’s lovely sound in the dolce F minor section of the same. The mutuality of feeling through much of the third movement was truly special, with Mr. Radliff’s expressivity standing out in the Recitativo-Fantasia. The sublime finale saw what may have been some flagging, with the occasional slip or glitch of intonation, but these became nearly negligible as they savored each canonic entry, building the work to a rousing finish.

A brief break was announced, completely in order given that there was no real intermission (though all that remained was the Debussy Sonata which lasts only around thirteen minutes). It was a welcome breather during which to admire the magnificent church with its stunning stained glass windows and architectural beauty.

With the ebullient spirit of the Franck’s finale still floating in the air, the Debussy Violin Sonata in G minor that followed felt frankly a bit anticlimactic, despite its well-deserved stature as a masterpiece. Composed in 1917, it reflects a period that was for Debussy quite dark, both from wartime depression and the struggle with a cancer that would end his life the following year. Its melancholy and mercurial shifts can make it difficult for a lay audience to grasp, and so your reviewer, a fan of happy endings, would have placed Debussy and Ravel as the first “half” and Franck as the second –  but “Chacun à son goût,” as they say. Most importantly the duo played it well, capturing the sensuous and searching qualities throughout, as well as its puckish moments in the second movement. The last movement was a tour de force, showcasing the violin’s huge range (from the lowest open G up to what on the piano would be the highest C-sharp), and here the duo’s split-second timing was particularly impressive. They were rewarded with an appreciative ovation. Several could be heard on the way out saying, “wow” and “that was incredible!” One looks forward to hearing more from this engaging duo.

For music lovers who are interested in attending the final concerts of the Saint Monica Concert Series season, there are two left, May 17 at 3 pm and June 5 at 7 pm. For more information, visit:  Saint Monica Concert Series .

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

The New York Philharmonic; Stéphane Denève, conductor

Jean-Yves Thibaudet, piano

David Geffen Hall, Lincoln Center, New York, NY

November 26, 2025

David Geffen Hall was filled to capacity on the eve of this Thanksgiving by listeners eager to hear – among other enticements – the New York Philharmonic with superb pianist Jean-Yves Thibaudet under the baton of the dynamic Stéphane Denève. For this reviewer, it was one of their most striking, brilliantly played programs in recent memory. Combining music of Aram Khatchaturian – his Piano Concerto Op. 38 – with music of Lera Auerbach, Einojuhani Rautavaara, and Ottorino Respighi, the program itself was inspired, uniting a vast range of mythological, historical, natural, and emotional themes, all building to a powerful and uplifting finale.

Maestro Denève proved to be an intensely musical leader, showing a strong rapport with the orchestra and easy communication with the audience. He drew his listeners in by commenting on the works from the podium – though there were generally good printed program notes as well. To start, he remarked before the opening Auerbach piece that this program could have been named “The Augmented Orchestra” concert, as the scoring of each work extended well beyond traditional orchestral instrumentation. He briefly explained, while also crediting the instruments’ guest performers, who had been omitted from the printed program.

Starting with Lera Auerbach’s Icarus, Denève cited its remarkable inclusion of the theremin.  For those unfamiliar with the sound of this instrument, he asked for a demonstration from guest thereminist Rob Schwimmer (who chose to riff on an excerpt from the main theme of the television show Star Trek – to the delight of the audience). In addition, Denève noted, there would be Khatchaturian’s use of the musical saw, to be played by Dale Stuckenbruck in the Piano Concerto, Op. 38, with Jean-Yves Thibaudet. After intermission would be two works that incorporated bird songs into orchestral textures via recording, first in Rautavaara’s Cantus Arcticus, Concerto for Birds and Orchestra, using a recording created by the composer in 1972, and then in Respighi’s Pines of Rome, using bird sounds recorded decades earlier on a 78 recording (the exact one specified by Respighi to be used in the New York premiere under Toscanini in 1926). An imposing 1909 phonograph behind the winds had been lent to the New York Philharmonic for this occasion. It was just one way in which this entire concert wedded a rich musical history with the exhilaration of the new.

While such unusual scorings were certainly exciting to highlight for all present, the true excitement followed, thanks to the composers’ vivid conceptions and the performers’  impassioned commitment. The opening Icarus by Lera Auerbach evoked the ill-fated flight of the mythical character Icarus as he dared come too close to the sun. The work is based on material from her 2006 Symphony No. 1, premiered in its current version in 2011 at Verbier, and given its New York premiere at this concert. Though the program notes stated that Ms. Auerbach chose the title after the piece was composed, anyone present at this concert would now surely link the music inextricably with Icarus. One felt his initial urgency to escape earthly imprisonment, the chimeric rise, the ecstatic soaring, and even perhaps the melting of his wax wings in theremin waves near the final tragic plummet to earth. As Ms. Auerbach stated in her notes, “Sometimes I think that it is the law of gravity that truly defines our existence.”  This twelve-minute work conveyed that sense, and all that comes with it, from courage in the face of the unknown to glorious aspirations and hubris, from the inevitable fall to the reflections on both beauty and pain. It was a powerful experience, and Ms. Auerbach was present to take a well-deserved bow.

Though the Khatchaturian Piano Concerto (1936) is not a new work for the New York Philharmonic (having given its New York premiere in 1942 following its 1937 Moscow premiere), it enjoyed at this concert a long-overdue revisiting in the hands of the brilliant Jean-Yves Thibaudet. Maestro Denève announced Mr. Thibaudet as “the most American of the French pianists” (again to the delight of the audience) – but one wasn’t sure whether that was a reference to Mr. Thibaudet’s playing style or a certain wardrobe flair that brought to mind Hollywood (not far from where he is artist-in-residence at the Colburn School). His playing itself was free of sheer display, as he simply made short work of the tremendously challenging score, handling fiendish sections with suavity. Whether rapid-fire double notes, octaves or whiplash-inducing ritards after accelerandi – all in remarkable synchronization with the orchestra – Mr. Thibaudet was precise and indefatigable. The second movement was memorable for its bass clarinet lines, soulfully projected, and Mr. Stuckenbruck’s musical saw lent it all an otherworldly feeling. As the program notes reminded us, this work and others were “not instruments of musical propaganda” despite coming out of the early Soviet years, but Khatchaturian meant them as celebrations of Armenian culture.  Just two years ago, in fact, another outstanding performance of this concerto was reviewed by New York Concert Review, as passionate Armenian pianist Kariné Poghosyan performed it with the MidAtlantic Philharmonic Orchestra in honor of Armenian Independence Day. The New York Philharmonic’s last performance of it for some reason dates back to 1961, but after the tremendous response from this week’s audience, one doubts there will be another sixty-year hiatus. Mr. Thibaudet responded to the huge ovation with an encore of O polichinelo from Prole do bebê by Villa-Lobos, played with panache.

After intermission came Einojuhani Rautavaara’s Cantus Arcticus, Concerto for Birds and Orchestra, Op. 61 (1972), a favorite of this reviewer for over twenty years on the basis of a recording by the Royal Scottish National Orchestra (RSNO, Naxos 1999). It is hard to believe that this evening marked the New York Philharmonic’s first programming of it, but the magnificent performance it was given on this occasion will surely keep planners from waiting another half-century to include it again.

From its chromatic flute lines at the opening to the wind-like whistling and deep chant-like basses, the piece evokes a vast frigid landscape that is raw and melancholy as well as miraculous. The bird sounds are about as far as they can get from the Romantic sentimentalizing of, say, Henselt’s If I Were a Bird – these are birds that cry, wail, squawk, warble, and merge into a unified texture that inspires an awe of nature. When the audience can unite in recognition of such a landscape, the experience can be potent and life-affirming, and it was. Maestro Stéphane Denève gave his all to it, and the orchestra gave theirs.

Just when one thought nothing further could add to the evening, Respighi’s Pines of Rome (1923-24) capped off the program with its own its magic. The Pines of the Villa Borghese was jubilant and shimmering. The Pines near a Catacomb was doleful, yet regal, bolstered by the exceptional brass section. The Pines of the Janiculum found the sparkling piano part setting the tone for a moonlit night, and the clarinets were sublime in their lines – rivaled perhaps only by nature’s own “winds” – the birds via phonograph. Not far after the last heavenly strains of the harp in this third movement, one of the most glorious crescendos of music begins in The Pines of the Appian Way – and how glorious it was in this orchestra’s rendition!Trumpets emerged in the upper boxes drawing looks of wonder from the audience, as the other brass, percussion, and strings built to a majesty that simply exploded. What a great finale to a great evening!

There are still two performances left at the time of this writing – so I do urge music lovers to run, not walk, and hear one!

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

House Concert, New York, NY

November 13, 2025

It may be rare for a reviewer to be asked to write up a concert in a private home (as opposed to one in a traditional concert hall), but “house concerts” have long been a way of sharing classical piano music, and they appear to be enjoying an increase in popularity. Nearly two hundred years ago, composer and pianist Frédéric Chopin was one example of a musician who preferred to share his music this way, in fact giving relatively few public performances in standard concert venues. (Such a fact seems hard for many to process, given the scope of the composer’s renown during his life and beyond, but it was the case.)  It thus seems rather appropriate that, for a recent house concert given by pianist Ivan Gusev, the works presented were by none other than Chopin.

Mr. Gusev is a native of Kazakhstan who, after relocating to Russia at age four, started piano studies at age six and went on to distinguish himself at the Moscow Conservatory, where he received Bachelor’s, Master’s and DMA degrees with highest honors, having studied with Mikhail Voskresensky and Eliso Virsaladze. He has received prizes in Italy (the Mauro Monopoli Prize International Piano Competition), Russia (the Benditsky Russian Piano Competition and the Third International Neuhaus Piano Competition), and here in the United States (the 3rd Gershwin International Music Competition, the Dorothy MacKenzie Artist Recognition Scholarship Award from the International Keyboard Institute and Festival, the Chopin International Piano Competition in Hartford, and the New York Piano Festival and Competition). He also completed a Master’s degree at Mannes with Jerome Rose. Mr. Gusev has been reviewed by New York Concert Review on several occasions, quite favorably by this reviewer in a Mannes concerto prizewinner’s concert in 2017 and in his solo debut at Weill Hall at Carnegie Hall in 2018.

In this evening of all Chopin, he played a program that was thoughtfully constructed, with the largest work and finale being the Sonata No. 3 in B minor. Leading up to it were two Ballades (No. 1 in G minor and No 2 in F major), two Nocturnes (Op. 48. No. 1 in C minor and the Op. 37, No. 2 in G major, the latter opening the second half before the sonata), the Waltz in A minor, Op. 34, No. 2, the Mazurka in B minor, Op. 33, No. 4, the Étude in C-sharp minor, Op. 10, No. 4, and the Scherzo No. 3 in C-sharp minor, Op. 39. All were arranged with care in regard to either key relationships, continuity, or contrast. Though the word “curate” sends many cringing from its overuse, there is definitely an art to curating a musical experience, and Mr. Gusev excels at it. The audience was rapt.

The Ballade in G minor opened the program, inviting us into a world in which Mr. Gusev is clearly comfortable. One had the sense that this pianist has lived inside this piece and knows and loves every corner of it. The only real glitch (aside from minor smudges in the coda) was a missing phrase on the opening page shortly following the pitter-patter of a family pet who decided to enter, crossing between the audience and the piano to curl up right near the piano (only to be removed after the piece concluded). Mr. Gusev continued the musical poetry without the slightest interruption.

While house concerts can be among the most memorable and intimate experiences of shared music, they can also bring the sorts of issues that concert halls largely eliminate – whether crying babies, delays, clinking wine glasses, or even a sense of obligation to socialize before playing. Thanks to Mr. Gusev’s considerate hosts, there seemed few of these here, though this listener wondered whether another concomitant of such concerts might have been affecting the sound – and that is the nagging compulsion an artist can feel to politely subdue the music’s greater storms for such a gemütlich environment. Often during Mr. Gusev’s excellent performances – and they were, as one has come to expect, marked by special sensitivity and care  – one had a sense that he was holding back in the more dramatic sections and that he could have projected more contrast. Mr. Gusev has on several occasions struck this reviewer as a special artist, closer in understated spirit to, say, Richard Goode than to the flashy firebrands who abound these days; still, he may need to watch the tendency to be so self-effacing that some drama is lost. Sometimes an actual concert stage offers not merely physical elevation but the kind of elevation that encourages a separation from the realm of the everyday.

The Ballade No. 2 which followed enjoyed a beautifully conceived opening. Where the piano tone did not always sustain fully in longer notes (possibly due to the instrument itself needing a bit of voicing work), the pianist’s own sense of line and pacing sustained the life of the phrases. The left-hand “E” in the final chord resounded prominently in a way that pointed up the continuity to the opening of the subsequent Waltz Op. 34 in A minor, and in this waltz the pianist cast a musical spell of sorts. The audience refrained from applause afterwards, as they did following the beguiling Mazurka in B minor, the noble C-minor Nocturne, and even the brilliant C-sharp minor Étude. This latter piece was given an impressive ride, with exceptionally dry pedal for extra clarity. The first half then closed with the Scherzo in C-sharp minor, which found the pianist reveling more in Chopin’s full range of emotions and sonorities.

After a brief intermission, Mr. Gusev played the Nocturne in G major, Op. 37, No. 2, one of the most deceptively difficult of the Nocturnes to hold together. It was a joy to hear this pianist’s silken double-notes, particularly as he eased them gracefully into the piece’s Barcarolle-type flow, rather than heralding their entry as one hears all too often. He put the music first – a quality one would think should be a fairly obvious prerequisite for performing, though it isn’t always the case. There were moments when one wondered about various readings or editions (once in the F Major Ballade just before the stormy A-minor entry, once in this Nocturne before the second theme, and later in the Sonata’s second movement, trio section), but these questions became almost negligible within the overall experience.

One could predict that such a thoughtful pianist would handle the large Sonata in B minor well, and he did just that, managing to hold the sprawling first movement together quite convincingly. The second movement had the right leggiero touch and the Largo movement was extremely moving. The last movement was particularly successful and carefully planned from its measured start to its more impassioned finish. While one felt that there was still more power to unleash, one holds out hope that Mr. Gusev will bring this program to a larger venue with a concert grand soon. He will undoubtedly have a growing number of connoisseurs to appreciate it.

Meanwhile this audience was visibly thrilled and offered a standing ovation. He kindly obliged with an encore of Chopin’s Mazurka Op. 68, No. 2 in A minor – played with grace.

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

Ian Hobson, piano

The Tenri Cultural Institute, New York, NY

November 7, 2025

A finale that was truly grand concluded Ian Hobson’s long-running New York cycle of Schumann’s piano works this weekend, as he played to a full house at the Tenri Institute. The program consisted of Schumann’s Piano Sonata No. 1 in F-sharp minor, Op. 11, and his Davidsbündlertänze, Op. 6. The concert was entitled “Florestan and Eusebius” – after the names of Schumann’s famously contrasting alter egos – the former being a bold adventurer and the latter, a more introspective dreamer. It would not be difficult to include much of Schumann’s oeuvre in a program named for these two spirits, but the title did seem especially apt here, particularly for the Davidsbündlertänze, which in its first edition actually had each of the eighteen pieces ascribed to either Florestan or Eusebius – in a few cases both. The printed program for this evening included these ascriptions, a helpful guide to the unfamiliar listener, along with the excellent program notes (as usual) by Paul Griffiths.

In addition to all the helpful notes, Mr. Hobson spoke at the concert’s opening, to welcome the audience and to introduce the first piece, the Sonata, Op. 11. Especially illuminating were his mentions of the third movement sections – from scherzo to waltz, pompous polonaise, Bachian interlude, and back – and on to the last movement, which he rightly described as “discursive” with all its twists and turns.

Mr. Hobson’s playing showed the same overview, and he was a sure guide through all of Schumann’s wide-ranging explorations. He seemed quite comfortable through the sonata’s most unwieldy challenges. Naturally, he has always been a pianist of all-encompassing technique and repertoire, so his mastery is never a surprise, but it seemed that there was some increased comfort this time, compared to prior recitals at Tenri, possibly attributable to raising the piano lid by only an inch or two, as opposed to full-stick or half-stick. Mr. Hobson announced that, in response to the condition of the instrument and the acoustics, the lid would be raised only by a book – and at that, a volume of Schumann, much to the audience’s enjoyment. All seemed much more manageable with this setup. Incidentally, that volume of Schumann was not needed for actual reading, as all was played from memory.

A word is in order on memory. Too much may sometimes be made of memory, and many pianists feel exasperated after pouring heart and soul into a performance, only to hear from listeners, “how did you memorize all that?” – as if that were the focus, and of course it is not. That being said, having heard Mr. Hobson play from memory most of this cycle, including around 1,600 pages of solo music (not even counting the chamber music), this reviewer has to say that for such an achievement alone, our admiration is warranted.

The sheer act of memorizing the lifetime output of a composer is also bound to affect the performer’s – and audience’s – perspective, sometimes altering the balance between a work’s idiosyncrasies and the general architecture and momentum. Though this listener has not always been an advocate of complete cycles in concert, it became clear through this one that Mr. Hobson, whom one thinks of as a supremely organized player, had found a certain order to the world of a composer who sometimes seems to defy organization. Though his interpretations were different from many performances I’ve loved dearly, in which the performer has seemed actually to inhabit Schumann’s world, living (and suffering) through each mercurial moment, there was a wise overview here, as if one of Schumann’s stabler friends were relaying the composer’s thoughts and feelings. Clearly Mr. Hobson is “friends” with all of Schumann’s quirks and dreams, and he presented them with spirit, directness, and a superb control of line and texture. The Sonata in F-sharp minor held together more surely than it often does, and where the very rare but inevitable glitches or smudges arose, they were swept easily into the flow of the music.

The Davidsbündlertänze, Schumann in some of his most ebullient writing, came after intermission. The sequence of short pieces felt utterly natural – holding together just as Paul Griffiths so artfully framed Schumann’s goal, “as much by contrast as coherence.” They gleamed like the tesserae of a large mosaic. Most memorable ones included the seventh, which on the first repeat felt not at all like a mere reiteration, but a deepening. The ending of the eleventh, Einfach, was particularly poignant, and the twelfth, Mit Humor, had just the right rambunctiousness complete with whimsical – almost perfunctory – ending. The thirteenth, Wild und lustig (with both Florestan and Eusebius alternating) had the perfect feistiness alternating with a quiet nobility, and the seventeenth was sheer heaven (apart from a slightly rough ending).

There were a few surprising interpretive decisions, such as in the fourteenth (Zart und singend), where one usually encounters a slower tempo along with its feeling of intimacy, but here it moved right along. As is often the case with seasoned artists, one simply had to wait for the reasoning to become clear in retrospect. In this case, more time was taken in its second section, and it thus made sense not to pile lingering upon lingering.

If there were spots that one might want to redo for an immaculate recording, those would probably include moments in the eighth (which actually had exceptional humor), the ninth, and the thirteenth. The third, fifteenth, and sixteenth seemed at times to lack Mr. Hobson’s characteristic ease, but any extra effort seemed to be geared towards spotlighting certain accents and patterns.

All in all, this concert brought many new thoughts on the piano works of Schumann – as did the entire cycle – tying together various “loose ends” of Schumann’s musical life for this listener. It was an education, and that comes from a reviewer with decades of hearing and playing Schumann’s music. Bravo!

On the subject of education, one can only imagine what good fortune it would be to study with Mr. Hobson, who, if asked “what Schumann have you performed?” could honestly now respond, “all of it.”

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

Internationally renowned violinist Zoltán Mága took the time recently to chat with New York Concert Review about his recent American tour. Mr. Mága has given concerts in nearly one hundred countries on five continents, playing for kings, heads of state, and church dignitaries. His materials state that he has played for President Donald Trump, Pope Benedict XVI, Prince (now King) Charles, Mohammed VI, the king of Morocco, and Konstantin II, the former king of Greece, as well as famous actors such as Robert de Niro and Salma Hayek, among other celebrities. He has performed with world-renowned musicians, including Didier Lockwood, Stéphane Grappelli, and Richard Clayderman, and has had countless television appearances, notably one from the Hungarian National Opera House that was enjoyed by viewers in 22 countries.

Rorianne Schrade (RS): Welcome Mr. Mága . We’ve read much about your illustrious career. Please tell us a bit more about yourself, how it all began, and what inspires you.

Zoltán Magá (ZM): I come from a dynasty of musicians — my father, my grandfather, and if we look back several centuries, every generation of my family has carried a deep love and respect for music. For us, music is not only a profession but also a heritage, a way of life, a spiritual calling.

I grew up in humble circumstances, but my parents did everything they could to ensure I lacked nothing essential for my musical development. We didn’t have money, but we had faith, love, and determination. My father was a musician, but he also took on physical labor to buy instruments, pay tuition, and provide me with opportunities he himself never had. My mother, quietly and selflessly, held our family together behind the scenes.

I began my journey in the Rajkó Orchestra, living in a dormitory, and as a child, I already understood that dreams must be fought for. While other children played, I practiced — until dawn, again and again. I knew I had to work twice as hard to get even halfway there. But I never saw it as a sacrifice, because for me, music was not just a vocation, but a refuge and a path.

I had no influential family behind me, no connections, no easy road — only my instrument, my diligence, and my faith. Yet I made it to the world’s most beautiful concert halls, royal palaces, and churches.

I believe that talent alone is not enough — it must be brought to life through hard work, humility, and perseverance. One’s origin, skin color, or social background should never be a barrier: the language of music speaks to everyone and connects us, no matter where we come from.

If my story gives strength to even one young person who is struggling today but still believes in themselves, then all the sweat, exhaustion, and sacrifice will have been worth it. Because for me, music has always been about this — the triumph of the human soul.

RS: We read that you’ve recently been in the United States on concert tour. We’d love to hear a summary of where you played, and anything you can share about what comes next on your concert schedule.

ZM: We embarked on a grand American tour with my orchestra, bringing the beauty of Hungarian music, the message of national unity, and the power of charity overseas. Our journey began in Washington, leading us through New York, Philadelphia, and Los Angeles, and concluding at the world-famous Carnegie Hall.

Our opening concert at the Kennedy Center in Washington was held in the spirit of Hungarian freedom, Christian values, and national pride, and was met with great international success. It was moving to see the audience rise to their feet in applause and to feel how music truly unites us Hungarians wherever we live in the world.

On October 23, the anniversary of the 1956 Revolution, we paid tribute to the heroes with our music at the Embassy of Hungary in Washington in the presence of Minister of Foreign Affairs Péter Szijjártó and numerous diplomats. We believe that the courage of the heroes of ’56 still teaches us today to preserve our faith, freedom, and national independence.

In New York, at the commemoration held at the United Nations in collaboration with the Consulate General of Hungary, we addressed the nations of the world through the voice of Hungarian music. It was deeply moving to see diplomats from nearly one hundred countries bow their heads together before the Hungarian heroes while our music carried the message of courage, gratitude, and freedom.

In Philadelphia, we performed at the historic Union League building, where Hungarian music reached representatives of American political, cultural, and diplomatic life. It was a special honor to receive an invitation to the celebration of the 250th anniversary of the United States, where we will once again represent Hungary and Hungarian art.

In Los Angeles, we gave a concert at the legendary Bel-Air Country Club to benefit victims of the wildfires. There we met our friends David Foster and Katharine McPhee, and new outlines of American-Hungarian cultural collaborations began to take shape. I also performed one of my dearest pieces, the hauntingly beautiful theme from Schindler’s List by the legendary John Williams. Wherever I perform around the world, I play it to remember – and to remind others – of the lessons of our shared history.

The highlight of our tour was Carnegie Hall in New York, where the audience gave us a standing ovation even before we stepped on stage. The proceeds from this charity concert were donated to St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital, and we decided to contribute an equal amount to support Hungarian children’s hospitals as well, because we believe that help should begin at home.

The funds raised at the charity concert will be complemented by contributions from the Hungarian government and additional supporters, making the final donation substantial. I will return to New York on December 13 to personally present the total amount to St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital.

At Carnegie Hall we performed a completely acoustic concert—without amplification—so that every nuance of the music could be heard purely, naturally, and full of soul. Pianist Brent Morden, the Budapest Gypsy Virtuosi, and my son Zoltán Mága Jr. also performed, and his playing received tremendous ovation.

During our stay in New York, we also held diplomatic meetings, including with the leaders of the Young Republicans of America, to discuss the future of Hungarian-American cultural relations. We were invited to the organization’s Christmas Gala, to which President Donald Trump is also invited. Overall, our American tour was not only an artistic success but also a profound human and cultural mission. We brought the message of Hungarian music, charity, and bridge-building between nations to the world’s greatest stages. For us, music is not merely a profession but a calling—to carry Hungary’s good name around the world and to show that the power of faith, love, and togetherness knows no boundaries.

RS: You are also the featured performer of Hungary’s largest annual New Year’s Concert. Could you share more about this?

ZM: On January 1, we will hold the Budapest New Year’s Concert for the eighteenth time. Over the years, it has become one of Hungary’s and indeed Europe’s most significant cultural events. During nearly two decades, this concert has provided not only an exceptional musical experience but has also grown into a true national tradition and a moral message. The motto of this jubilee year—“Together for 18 Years!”—perfectly expresses what we aim to convey each year: the importance of peace, unity, shared values, and national cohesion.

Throughout the years, we have performed alongside world-famous artists and multiple Grammy Award–winning musicians who are at home in the greatest concert halls around the world. Our guests have included David Foster, the sixteen-time Grammy Award–winning producer and composer, and Katharine McPhee, the American singer and actress with whom we have performed several times. We are proud to have shared the stage with Ramón Vargas, the world-renowned Mexican tenor; Aida Garifullina, one of the brightest stars of Russian opera; and Sheila, the American pop icon—all of whom have contributed to making our concert a truly international event.

Of course, the greatest figures of Hungary’s artistic world also celebrate with us every year—Kossuth Prize-winning singers, musicians, and actors—without whom the concert would not be complete, either musically or emotionally. They are the ones who represent Hungary’s cultural values with dignity, and whose talent and dedication elevate the splendor of the evening time and again.

For us, the New Year’s Concert is not merely a grand musical event but a mission: to convey, through the power of music, the beauty, spirit, and message of peace of Hungary to the entire world. Each year, we strive for our audiences—both Hungarian and international—to feel through music what faith, love, and togetherness mean to us.

RS:  And to return to your American tour, let’s hear some more recollections about that.

ZM: One of the most defining experiences of my life was this year’s American tour, which led from Washington through New York to Los Angeles, carrying with it the message of Hungarian music, love, unity, and charity to some of the world’s most prestigious stages. I am deeply grateful that, as a Hungarian artist, we could once again conquer America — and even more grateful that through the power of music, we were able to build bridges between nations and between people.

RS: And can you share some more specific recollections, as you played in Washington, Philadelphia, Los Angeles, and New York?

ZM: Washington:There was a message of freedom and national unity in Washington. The first stop of the tour was the Kennedy Center in Washington, where we performed before a fantastic audience. It was a deeply moving experience to represent Hungary, the Hungarian spirit, and the message of freedom and Christian values at one of the world’s greatest cultural institutions. Ambassador Szabolcs Takács welcomed the audience, praising not only the international stature of Hungarian art but also the cultural and human mission that my music represents. After the concert, the audience expressed their appreciation with a long standing ovation – I felt that with every note, we carried the heart of Hungary to Washington.

As I said then, “At the Kennedy Center, music once again united us. Every note carried the message of the Hungarian soul — the power of faith, love, and patriotism.”

On October 23, it was a great honor to perform at the Embassy of Hungary in Washington in memory of the heroes of the 1956 Revolution and War of Independence. Among the attendees were Minister of Foreign Affairs and Trade Péter Szijjártó, American secretaries, ambassadors, and diplomats — representatives of numerous nations from around the world. As I said that evening: “The courage of the heroes of 1956 continues to teach us that we must always preserve our freedom, our faith, and our national independence — peacefully, yet resolutely.”

New York: The highlight of the tour was Carnegie Hall, where it was once again an honor to perform on one of the world’s most iconic stages. The audience rose to their feet as I stepped on stage — a moment I will never forget. It was also a great joy that the concert was entirely acoustic, without amplification — the music resonated sincerely, purely, and with soul. Sharing the stage with me were pianist Brent Morden, the Budapest Gypsy Virtuosos, and my son, Zoltán Mága Jr., whose virtuosic performance received a standing ovation.

Also, in cooperation with the United Nations and the Consulate General of Hungary, I had the privilege of performing a commemorative concert marking the 69th anniversary of the 1956 Revolution. Ambassadors and diplomats from nearly one hundred countries’ permanent missions to the UN were present – it was the first time such a wide international community paid tribute to the Hungarian heroes. There, at the UN, while I played, I felt that Hungary’s voice was speaking to the world – through the language of music, the voice of freedom, faith, and gratitude. As I said then: “Music is the language of the soul that transcends all borders. Today, Hungary’s voice was a message of gratitude, respect, and freedom to the nations of the world.”

During my stay in New York, I also met with Stefano Loudarus Forte, President of the New York Young Republicans, and Vice President Brent Morden. Our discussion centered on strengthening Hungarian–American cultural relations and on the nation-building and value-preserving role of art. I was invited to the Young Republicans’ Christmas Gala, to which President Donald Trump himself is also invited.Az űrlap teteje

Editor’s note: The New York Carnegie Hall Concert of Mr. Zoltán Mága was organized by the Liszt Institute New York.

Philadelphia: We brought Hungarian music to the heart of American history – Philadelphia. Philadelphia, the historical capital of the United States, was a particularly special venue for me. We performed in the elegant building of the Union League, America’s first Republican club, where we presented Hungarian music to the American political, diplomatic, and cultural elite. I vividly remember how uplifting it was to stand in the place where America’s freedom was born and to serve the ideal of unity through the sound of the Hungarian violin. Earlier, I had the privilege to play personally for President Donald Trump, who spoke with great appreciation of Hungary, the Hungarian people, and Prime Minister Viktor Orbán. He said: “Your Prime Minister is a leader who bravely stands up for his country, for peace, and for Christian values — setting an example for all of Europe.” In Philadelphia, I felt once again that music builds bridges between our nations.

Los Angeles: In Los Angeles, at the legendary Bel-Air Country Club, I performed before world-renowned producers, artists, politicians, and diplomats. The evening was held to support the victims of the wildfires, once again showing the power of unity through music. It was a joy to reunite with my friend, sixteen-time Grammy Award-winning producer David Foster, and singer Katharine McPhee.

During our conversations, new opportunities for American-Hungarian cultural collaboration began to take shape, and I received an invitation from Lance O’Connor, the owner of Minted Content, to take part in next year’s even more extensive American tour. I am grateful to be able to present the beauty of Hungarian music in a world-class setting. I firmly believe that music is the most beautiful bridge between nations.

RS: And clearly charity is an important part of your activities. Please share anything else you’d like to about your extensive charitable work.

ZM: About my charitable work, looking back over the past decades, I can proudly recall that I have given nearly one thousand charity concerts, through which we have been able to provide assistance worth several million dollars to those in need—both in Hungary and beyond its borders.

As I mentioned, all the proceeds of my concert at Carnegie Hall were donated to St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital, and as I announced: “Whatever amount of donations was raised here in America, I will match with an equal contribution to support Hungarian children’s hospitals, from the proceeds of the Budapest New Year’s Concert. Because we must first help at home, in Hungary — and from there, wherever we can around the world.”

RS: Thank you so much for sharing your time, experience, and feelings with us today – and with our readers.

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