Hwaseong City Chamber Orchestra with featured winning soloists

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

February 21, 2019

Though many decry what seems to be a cultural decline and lack of discipline in today’s younger generation, there are always rays of hope, and this listener encountered a dozen of them this Thursday at Weill Hall. Twelve young soloists, as winners of the Hwaseong City Music Competition, flew over from South Korea to perform concerto movements with the Hwaseong City Chamber orchestra – and they represented their nation well.

Though the orchestra was small (two winds and around thirteen strings), and understandably given the small stage of Weill Hall with a Steinway grand, the ensemble was valiant, and the soloists were as well. What could have been a marathon evening simply flew by as the parade of extremely accomplished youngsters gave their all, each for about ten minutes. Sadly, their ages and other information were not listed. The conductor led the ensemble admirably, though astonishingly his name was omitted from the program as well (more on that last issue later).

The first performer, violinist Chae-Lin Suh, played L’inverno (Winter) from Vivaldi’s Four Seasons. With a full sound and assertive musicality, she boldly set a high bar for the concert. Occasionally (and possibly with help from adrenaline) she seemed to have a slightly edgier tempo conception than the accompanying ensemble, but as the piece continued, she seemed to energize the group towards her way of thinking. One couldn’t help wishing that there had been an easier way for her to connect visually with the conductor who led from behind her with little chance of eye contact unless she did a one-eighty, but fortunately some expert ears were at work. One doesn’t want to guess Ms. Suh’s age, which could have been anything from fifteen to twenty-four – but suffice it to say that she is already quite an elegant young lady with much potential.

Cellist Man-Jung Kim strode onto stage next to play Popper’s Polonaise de Concert, Op. 14 (first year university, as one gathered from nearby audience members who said they knew him). It was an impressive performance full of élan. He ably negotiated the treacherous high notes in the early cadenza and was unafraid of using expressive slides to convey the grand Romantic spirit. At times the orchestra had some scruffy moments (as one had thought also in the Vivaldi – inevitable perhaps when each instrument is exposed without the cushion of larger forces), but Mr. Kim fared well. He was also somehow able to impart the occasional oblique nod and glance as a cue – well done!

Violinist Jung-Ho Byun dazzled next with the Introduction & Rondo Capriccioso of Saint-Saëns. Looking somewhere in the upper teens in age, he played with a brilliant sound and an impressive degree of accuracy in its most challenging passages. If the sixteenth rests at the opening struck one as surprisingly literal compared to freer versions, he found his comfort zone quickly. It will be wonderful to hear this young player in a year or so to see whether this very famous showpiece will acquire that “tossed off” quality alongside his already considerable technique.

When the little violinist Eun-Seo Cho walked onstage next, there was a slight gasp from some the audience, as she looked no older than perhaps ten years old and played nothing less than Sarasate’s Zigeunerweisen. She handled it with a mature grasp in the passionate Roma melodies and effortless spiccato bowing in its pyrotechnics. This reviewer was ready to jot down how this or that was not quite up to Heifetz’s rendition, only to stop with the realization that my own socks are older than this child, so let it suffice to say that she was amazing. (Now, won’t it be difficult to take that all back if one finds she is actually fifteen and has availed herself of some youth-enhancing technology? Well, then we’ll talk – but she would still be exceptional.)

Just when one thought that prodigies can’t come much smaller, in marched pianist Ye-Seo Nam, looking all of about six or seven. Surely there was some sort of Matryoshka nesting doll backstage – in which case, what could possibly be next? Not to lag behind, though, young Ms. Nam made easy work of Haydn’s Piano Concerto No. 3 in F major – not the third movement as listed in the program but the longer and more involved first movement, which had her fully engaged and moving to the music from the opening orchestral tutti. Her fleet fingers (even with the tricky thirds) may have occasionally needed a bit more “traction” to rein in the speed and keep in perfect alignment with the orchestra, but all in all she was outstanding.

After a bit of onstage shifting to move out the concert grand, the next player entered, pianist Yu-Na Kim, seemingly in her mid to late teens. In some ways, despite the advantage of a few more years, she deserves extra respect for her poise in following such pint-size players (scene-stealers who inspired the famous W. C. Fields advice, “Never work with children or animals”). Ms. Kim sailed through the third movement of Chopin’s Piano Concerto in E minor with grace and authority. The only minor suggestions would be to make some rapid phrase ends less clipped and perhaps to change color and character more in the E-flat major section. Then again, she was impressive simply for pulling off this challenging movement so beautifully with what must have been very little rehearsal (given so may soloists). She also is to be admired for treating the piece as chamber music; at one point, for example, she managed in a long upward run to wait on the penultimate note for the slightly lagging orchestra, so that her top note would be right with them – she is on the ball!

After intermission, the concert resumed with slightly older players in general. Baritone Ji-Seok Lee opened singing Hai gia vinta la causa! from Mozart’s Le Nozze di Figaro. He possesses a magnificent voice, excellent diction, and a commanding stage presence worthy of the Count who delivers this aria. Though there was little in his demeanor (and no gestures) to convey the dramatic aspects of the role, his second selection, Sanchon (or Mountain Village) by Du Nam Cho, elicited his heightened emotions and dramatic involvement – it was a pity that no lyrics were provided. One will certainly look forward to hearing this singer again.

More Sarasate followed, with the Introduction and Tarantella in the capable hands of violinist Sang-Yong Sin. One was becoming rather spoiled by violin virtuosity by this point, but Mr. Sin delivered his solo with tremendous brilliance. The same applied to the next violinist, Hae-Won Choi, who gave a commanding and extremely assertive account of the Praeludium and Allegro of Kreisler (curiously listed on the poster/program with first name “G. P.” rather than Fritz).

Following other players in a group concert is a challenge not to be underestimated, and as the time approached 10PM one felt for these young players. As my colleague Alexandra Eames described so well in a 2011 review (Rutgers Pianists in Review): “To relax and find one’s stride in just one or two pieces is extremely difficult and the performer must go through the same physical preparations (dressing for performance, arriving on time, trying the instrument, etc.) as he would for a full-length recital.  Often the most sensitive artists can be sabotaged by the endeavor, whereas the more arrogant temperaments barrel through their nerves.”

Miraculously there was not a single meltdown the entire evening. Cellist Ye-Won Cho followed with a rhythmic and nimble-fingered account of the third movement of Haydn’s Cello Concerto in C major, and aside from the almost dizzyingly fast tempo that perhaps stemmed from heightened excitement, her account was excellent.

Two pianists were the last performers, starting with Yu-Min Cho, who took on the thorny third movement of Chopin’s Piano Concerto in F Minor. He honored the score with respect and mature musicality, and it was beautiful to behold. It was only through some overpedaling and smudges towards the end that one sensed some fatigue, undoubtedly from waiting through such a long evening. Mr. Cho has the potential for very distinguished playing.

The role of final performer fell to pianist Min-Sun Kim, and that is not an enviable assignment, but she gave an impassioned performance of the first movement of Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 2. She was decisive and clear in her interpretation, delivering the work’s well-known lyricism with mature musicianship and a singing cantabile right hand, while also unleashing ample firepower for its peaks, particularly its high-voltage finale. It was a grand finale indeed, and one could only marvel at how the skeletal orchestra behind her rallied to meet her, playing their hearts out. Brava!

All the players returned to the stage for a final colorful bow, and a representative from the competition (whose name was hard to make out if it was indeed announced) remarked that the competition would be arranging another concert here within a year. He also introduced an honored guest (again with a name hard to discern) to present five special certificates, which went to cellist Ye-Won Cho, violinist Eun-Seo Cho, baritone Ji-Seok Lee, and pianists Ye-Seo Nam and Min-Sun Kim.

The Hwaseong City Music Competition’s organizers certainly know how to find talent, and now it is clear that they know their way here – all a good thing! They also appear to have some corporate backers to help make it happen (notably Kia via their poster); it should not take much more, therefore, to fine-tune the presentation itself (as the musicians had done). The program, really more of a concert flyer, seemed rather hastily assembled with too many typographical errors, and there should not have been any question as to the name of the conductor, the correct movement to be played, or the details of the competition itself (still a mystery after some web searching). There is probably also a way to arrange for a French horn or trumpet, even given limited space – but again, the musicians were remarkable.

Bravi tutti!

Distinguished Concerts Orchestra, Distinguished Concerts Singers International,

Jonathan Griffith, Artistic Director and Principal Conductor,

Sir Karl Jenkins, CBE, DCINY Composer-in-Residence

Baidar Al Basri, Ethnic Music Vocalist; Sara Couden, Contralto

Elliott Forrest, WQXR Radio Personality

Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

January 21, 2019

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presented another spectacular musical celebration this past Monday on Martin Luther King Jr. Day, and the program featured two major choral works by Welsh composer, Sir Karl Jenkins, whose 75^th birthday is marked this year. The first half consisted of the United States Premiere of his hour-long Symphonic Adiemus (including his 1995 Adiemus, reworked and augmented from its version for women’s voices to employ SATB, chorus, and an expanded orchestra). In the second half we heard his well-known Stabat Mater, for which this reviewer covered the United States premiere in 2009, six years before the composer was knighted (when New York Concert Review was still a print-only publication). I wrote then that his music was “direct, appealing, and at times profoundly moving” – and that opinion certainly holds today.

In an age when labels are applied with regularity to works of art as well as to people, the Symphonic Adiemus of Sir Karl Jenkins eludes classification. Though it is built on traditional classical forms, employs classically-influenced harmonies, and requires classically trained orchestral forces, the work is built over a nearly constant rhythmic undercurrent, often syncopated, which seems to invite the sloppy term “crossover.” Thanks to liberal use of African percussion (such as the djembe), Mideastern instruments (such as the riq), a chest-voice style of singing (marked with the word “tribal” in parts of the score), the terms “ethnic” and “world music” get slapped on as well, also not too helpful in an era of constantly intertwining cultures. As Sir Karl Jenkins himself acknowledged during an intermission interview from the stage, “I’ve always resisted categorizing music.” In fact, so averse is he to categories that he created his own language for his Adiemus, in lieu of established texts from any single nation or era.

As Sir Karl writes, “The text was written phonetically, with the words viewed as instrumental sound, the idea being to maximize the melisma … by removing the distraction, if one can call it that, of words. The sound is universal, as is the language of music.” On that premise, Symphonic Adiemus employs syllables text such as, “Za Ma Ba” and “Kayama” and in doing so largely avoids cultural associations and preconceptions. One could argue that “Adiemus” is a Latin word – and it is, of course – but, as Sir Karl recounts, the syllables “Ah-dee-ay-moos” simply emerged from the multitude of syllables, fortuitously corresponding to the Latin word for “we shall approach” (and close to “audiemus” or “we will hear”). As Sir Karl quips, “it could have been a lot worse!”

Musically, the twelve-movement Adiemus is beautifully paced to hold the attention of even the most restless audience – and just when one might be ready to pigeonhole a style or think a pattern formulaic, it all changes.

From the opening percussive blows of its first movement, In Caelum Fero (another case of phonetics emerging as Latin), one senses a heroic adventure ahead, and the brass and ostinati that follow are worthy of an epic soundtrack. One’s imagination supplies the story, especially with such a non-verbal choral part, but several hundred people making music onstage build a case for the hero being humanity itself.

The initial driving energy yields to the gentle Chorale: Za Ma Ba, with long-breathed melodic lines in the chorus and strings, and it is followed by the title movement, Adiemus, known to almost anyone who has been on the planet in the past decade. Associations have long been an issue for composers to reckon with (certainly exacerbated by technology, ringtones, commercial settings, etc.), but if “familiarity breeds contempt” the chant-like Adiemus is holding up quite well!

Nine movements follow, including the delightful Song of the Spirit with its almost raunchy horn licks, followed by Chorale: Elegia, which does not wax elegiac for too long before the ubiquitous rhythms return, now with gentle hand percussion. As if shunning too much of a lull, the next movement, Kayama, opens with a declamatory brass section before the chorus gently re-enters. Two movements entitled Tintinnabulum (parts I and II) follow, bringing the focus to tubular bells, and they provide a refreshing change of color. The highlight for this listener, though, is the ninth movement, Chorale: Cantilena, with its stately simplicity of line, and juicy suspensions and inner lines that tug at the heartstrings. A florid flute solo decorates its central section, and it was well performed. The orchestra throughout was excellent.

After the Cantilena comes Zarabanda, based loosely on the French Sarabande known for its emphatic second beat, but with its more distinctive rhythmic feature here being the constant percussive undercurrent. When the gently beatific Hymn begins after it, without percussion, it is a welcome respite. It is not easy to sustain excitement when there are so many climaxes of all sorts in a work, but thanks to the relative quiet of the Hymn, a resurgence is made possible, and the entire work comes to a rousing close with the Song of the Plains.

One couldn’t help thinking throughout the first half that the neutralizing of the text to mere syllables and the dissolution of certain musical categories are in perfect harmony with the mission of inclusiveness associated with the DCINY organization. DCINY gathers choruses from all over the world, and for this event they had singers from New York, Oregon, Australia, Canada, France, Germany, the Netherlands, Sweden, Switzerland, and the UK, and (as listed in the program) “individual Singers from around the globe.” DCINY regularly reminds potential choristers to come join them, and their extravaganzas frequently fill Carnegie Hall to capacity. It was inspiring to behold their hundreds of singers, old and young, of all stripes, visibly exhilarated by the music and energized by the guidance of Maestro Jonathan Griffith. They also represent the work of numerous choral conductors behind the scenes, and in tribute to one such outstanding choral conductor, Dr. Doreen Rao, DCINY brought her to the podium after intermission to present her with its Educator Laureate Award.

As impressive a feat as it is to create one’s own syllabic language, it is arguably much harder to set music to the Latin text of the Stabat Mater, which has a venerated tradition from Vivaldi and Pergolesi through Verdi, Poulenc, and the present century. Each composer will somehow reflect the musical language of his own era, and yet, irrespective of associations, he must compose in a way that can convey the timeless subject matter of the life of Jesus Christ and the Virgin Mary.

If one found oneself thinking that some of the Jenkins Sancta Mater seems a bit too redolent of our own day’s epic film scores – one could carp similarly about the Sancta Mater of Rossini, who lets the word “crucifixi” roll just a bit too merrily off the tongue, as if imitating the finesse of his great influence, Mozart. Looking at the bigger picture, the fact is that Sir Karl Jenkins followed his inspiration, and his Stabat Mater goes beyond the European tradition to resembling, as a whole, no other piece.

The central Latin texts are surrounded with those in English, Hebrew, Arabic, Greek, and Aramaic, and include words from the Epic of Gilgamesh and the poet Rumi. The texts are highlighted with the exotic timbres of Arab percussion instruments, which create evocations of the Holy Land. These were used especially effectively in conjunction with pizzicato strings in the eighth movement, Virgo Virginem.

Both chorus and orchestra deserve high praise for stamina as well as overall musicianship. The concertmaster, Jorge Ávila, was as ever an MVP, and Maestro Jonathan Griffith held the masses together in a way that could be described as miraculous. At times, he appeared to be the musical diplomat mediating between the unforgiving precision of the percussion and the giant amoeba of combined choruses – and there were precarious moments – but he was unfailing.

The soloists of the evening were also exceptional. The impassioned “ethnic vocals” of Baidar Al Basri made the second movement, Incantation, memorably stirring – and this listener had originally heard Belinda Sykes, who set a very high bar. Sara Couden’s beautifully penetrating contralto voice was also a discovery, and her superb diction brought clarity to the despairing fourth movement Lament, with text by Carol Barratt (Sir Karl’s wife).

All in all, one was struck once again by what a formidable achievement it all represented. Bravo to DCINY, to all the performers, and to Sir Karl Jenkins – happy birthday, and many happy returns!

Jeongeun Park, Viola; Eric Zuber, Pianist,

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

December 17th, 2018

Violist Jeongeun Park (https://www.jeongeunparkviola.com) appeared in her New York debut at Carnegie Hall’s Weill Recital Hall this week, delivering some highly admirable performances of difficult repertoire. She has received numerous distinctions in solo, chamber, and orchestral categories in her native South Korea, where she studied with Do-Yeon Kim in Seoul. Her biography states that she has also performed widely in the United States and participated in many programs, including the Aspen Music Festival. Dr. Park is currently on the adjunct faculty of the Cincinnati College-Conservatory of Music, where she received her MM, Artist Diploma, and DMA under Catharine Carroll Lees.

Dr. Park’s program was an interesting one with a large stylistic and emotional range. The first half included Reinecke’s delightful Three Fantasies for Viola and Piano, Op. 43, and selections from Prokofiev’s well-loved ballet Romeo and Juliet (in a Borisovsky arrangement). Fauré’s ubiquitous Après un Rêve, Op. 7, No. 1, began the second half with stunning Romantic outpourings, and Shostakovich’s profound final composition, the Sonata for Viola and Piano, Op. 147, closed the program.

One knows one is in New York when hearing a fellow audience member actually complaining about hearing the same viola repertoire this week as last (though your reviewer found only the Prokofiev to be duplicated in concert listings); it might surprise the reader to know, however, that, for an instrument which is something of an unsung hero of music, there were no fewer than four public viola recitals (not including group ones) in the concert halls of Juilliard alone – and undoubtedly more, if one includes other New York venues. This listener will not be complaining, though, because most well-written music withstands infinite hearings if played with strong individual commitment.

On this occasion, that individual commitment was certainly transmitted to the audience, though at times it came more noticeably from the collaborative pianist, Eric Zuber. One had a hunch that Dr. Zuber would stand out, as this listener reviewed him glowingly many years ago, well before New York Concert Review went from printed publication to an online one. He is now quite a veteran with more major prizes than one can count, and he enlivened each piano part with his vividness of interpretation and mature musical understanding. From the opening of the Reinecke and on, with its fistfuls of Schumannesque passagework, he was in fact (yes, it is possible) a bit too engaging! One found one’s attention moving more to the piano than to the viola, simply from the intense musicality he projected throughout. No, the reason was not that this listener is a pianist, nor that there was any excessive volume from Dr. Zuber (though the duo probably ought to have set the piano lid on the half-stick, rather than all the way up, as it was for the entire recital); it just seemed that Dr. Park let Dr. Zuber take the reins in more of the recital than one would expect (the collaborative nature of the repertoire notwithstanding).

The three Reinecke pieces made a gracious opening. The duo of Drs. Park and Zuber were right together in matters of tempo and phrasing. A few minor intonation glitches showed what may have been some opening jitters in the first piece, but the second and third movements set sail nicely. Dr. Park showed that she has a beautifully warm sound, especially in the lowest registers.

One couldn’t help wishing that the actual titles of Reinecke’s movements had been listed on the program, rather than mere tempo markings, because it seems worth mentioning that the first piece is not merely an Andante but also a Romanze. It could have enjoyed even more of the feeling that its name suggests. There was, on the other hand, more dreamy spaciousness later on in the center of the second piece (Allegro molto agitato), where 6/8 became 2/4. The third piece, Molto Vivace (also one which Reinecke gave a title, Jahrmarkt-Szene and subtitle, Eine Humoreske), was a good jaunty finish to the set.

On the topic of program notes, there were also a few omissions and errors, including the life dates of Carl Reinecke’s father, listed as “1759-1883” (whose secret of longevity I want to learn!). It is easy enough to understand the occasional typo, assuming some haste, but a New York debut at Weill Hall is worth extra care. Assuming that one of the goals of performing music is to communicate, program notes can help the audience grasp some of what may not be captured in the interpretations. For each listener who has heard several viola concerts in a week, there may also be a listener who has never attended a classical recital but will become the audience of the future.

The first half concluded with Selections from Romeo and Juliet of Prokofiev, arranged by eminent violist, Vadim Borisovsky (1900-1972). Dr. Park’s selections were the Introduction, The Young Juliet, Dance of the Knights, and Mercutio. These were impressive performances in what are virtuosic arrangements, though again – at the risk of asking too much – one wanted more of a sense of the character in each piece. The Knights were not quite as formidable and fearsome as one would like (though the pianist did supply some of the more growling intensity), and one became a bit too focused on the busy-ness and challenges in the Juliet movement; there were some extremely beautiful sounds in the latter, however, especially in the more tranquillo central section.

After intermission came Fauré’s Après un Rêve Op. 7, No. 1, a piece with which Dr. Park seemed completely relaxed and comfortable. It had beauty of phrasing and tone, with just the right liberty of expression. It was good to hear Dr. Park taking a more assertive musical lead.

The Fauré acted as a musical blessing of sorts, before crossing the musical River Styx of Shostakovich’s Sonata for Viola and Piano. Dr. Park was intrepid in this great work, doing some of her finest playing. From the first movement’s searching pizzicato opening and ominous tremolos played sul ponticello (at the bridge of the instrument), she seemed to revel in its most haunting moments. In the central Allegretto movement, where the sheer physical demands require it, her playing was fully involved, fittingly biting, and angular – though perhaps it could have projected still more of its inherent sarcasm. The final movement, with its chilling references to Beethoven, including to his Sonata, Op. 27, No. 2 (“Moonlight”), was played with probing profundity, sending the audience off into a meditative night.

It is a high compliment to performers when one leaves a concert hall thinking about how amazing a composer was, and one did just that after this duo’s Shostakovich. One hopes to hear both musicians again soon.

Distinguished Concerts Orchestra; Distinguished Concerts Singers International

Jonathan Griffith, DCINY Artistic Director and Principal Conductor

Warren Lee, Piano

Danielle Talamantes, soprano; Natalie Polito, soprano;

Claudia Chapa, mezzo-soprano; John McVeigh, tenor;

Peter Drackley, tenor; Christopher Job, bass-baritone

Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

December 3rd, 2018

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) has since 2008 been bringing extraordinary concerts to Carnegie Hall and other venues in New York, and it seems fitting that for the final concert of its 10^th Anniversary season the organization celebrated with arguably the greatest masterpiece in the history of music, Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9 (the Choral Symphony, Op. 125), preceded by the same composer’s Choral Fantasy, Op. 80.

Beethoven’s much storied (and politicized) Symphony No. 9 was completed in 1824 (three years before he died) as the culmination of several years of intense work, still more years of sketches, and a lifetime of evolution in the mind of a genius. Part of that evolutionary process was the creation in 1808 of the Choral Fantasy, which contains enough thematic kinship to the later Choral Symphony to be considered by some to be a “study” for it, though that assessment seems to be something of an overstatement. The Choral Fantasy is a magnificent piece in its own right, with a piano solo part so prominent that it resembles a one-movement concerto. In any case, however one views the relationship between the two works, to place them one after the other makes for a dream program, musically and musicologically.

The piano soloist for the Choral Fantasy was Warren Lee, whom this reviewer heard just this spring in an excellent program at Weill Hall devoted largely to Leonard Bernstein. Mr. Lee struck one then as a highly thoughtful musician, and his performance in Beethoven’s Choral Fantasy simply reinforced one’s original impression. The Choral Fantasy opens with an extended piano solo, and despite its improvisatory nature, it is deceptively difficult and quite exposed. Each detail must be “just so” as the other musicians onstage, chorus, orchestra, and soloists, wait with bated breath. Mr. Lee handled all of its challenges superbly, with precision and a robust sound in the leaping chords and octaves, fine articulation in the tricky left-hand passages, convincing phrasing in the cantabile moments, and clear projection even at pianissimo levels. As the piece progressed, Mr. Lee showed a keen awareness of the orchestral whole (occasionally seeming almost to conduct), and he effected the changes of tempo and character to its “Turkish” section with convincing drive and energy. His collaboration with excellent conductor Jonathan Griffith was strong.

Only around three quarters of the way through this twenty-minute work do the solo voices and chorus enter, and they were substantial forces with which to reckon. Among the soloists for (just the Choral Fantasy, and not the Ninth Symphony), were the excellent singers Natalie Polito (soprano) and Peter Drackley (tenor), whose voices projected their noble entries with strength and clarity, in combination with the quartet of singers for the Ninth (Danielle Talamantes, Claudia Chapa, John McVeigh, and Christopher Job, about whom more will be said later).

As usual, DCINY gathered forces from far and wide, including choruses from across the US (Alabama, California, Georgia, Idaho, Massachusetts, Michigan, Montana, and Texas), as well as international choruses from Germany, Hong Kong, and New Zealand, and, as DCINY states, “individual singers from around the globe.” The collective sound was formidable.

Hearing Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony in live performance is a thrill which must be experienced to be believed – and it doesn’t get “old.” As the music has been heard in reductions and excerpts and arrangements of all kinds, there are undoubtedly many more people who feel they know it than ones who actually know it in its entirety, as it is a colossal undertaking for any orchestra, plus chorus and soloists. Thanks are due to DCINY for once again broadening the musical horizons of the large audiences they reach. They gave a powerful performance of the work, under the always masterful leadership of Maestro Griffith, and to tremendous ovations.

In matters of balance from section to section, clarity of motive, and technical polish within sections, all was performed at a high level. Ensemble was precise, and there was clear unity of conception in each movement.

If one could generalize about DCINY, one might say that their “specialty” in a sense is in performances of uplifting energy. Accordingly, the most successful sections in their rendition were the more overtly joyous ones – and no, it is not all “Joy” in the Symphony of the famous Ode to Joy, because the very first movement, for one, is long, probing and weighty. Most memorable perhaps in the DCINY performance was the second movement with its precise opening attacks in and almost frenetic energy. The buoyancy of the C major sections was downright infectious, and the winds shone in the 4/4 D major parts, which were magical.

The third movement, Adagio molto e cantabile, was beautiful, though perhaps missing the utter transcendence of some of this reviewer’s favorite performances; the final movement, however, after patient and artful building of energies and sonorities from double bass on up, was glorious. The quartet of soloists was superb.

It was a joy to hear the return of the outstanding voices of Christopher Job, bass-baritone, and John McVeigh, tenor (both performing by permission of the Metropolitan Opera). Mr. Job had the first vocal lines of this predominantly instrumental work, and he sang with a big tone, clear diction, and tremendous drama. The vocal quartet and choral section that followed generated such excitement that right after the words “vor Gott” the audience burst into applause. The Alla Marcia which followed was then irresistibly rhythmic, with Mr. McVeigh giving his lines a pulsing energy.

Claudia Chapa, mezzo-soprano, has been heard numerous times in DCINY performances, and her strong, warm lyricism never disappoints. Her voice blended beautifully with that of soprano, Danielle Talamantes, who is for this listener a new discovery and navigated the perilous high registers easily right up to the final “flügel Weilt” before the prestissimo “last hurrah” of the work.

Prolonged thunderous ovations followed the finale, and one left marveling at what a surfeit of gifts Beethoven brought to the world with his music. Of course, it takes live performances to carry these gifts to the next generation, and a special debt of gratitude is owed to DCINY for its hard work from both Co-founder and Director Iris Derke (who spoke eloquently between works) and the Co-founder and Artistic Director, Maestro Jonathan Griffith. Bravo to all of the musicians – and here’s to the next ten years of DCINY!

Ivan Gusev, Piano

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

November 17, 2018

The name Ivan Gusev is a name one keeps encountering lately in association with exciting musical events of all kinds. Last season, for starters, this reviewer had the pleasure of hearing him in a performance of Grieg’s Piano Concerto in A minor as winner of a concerto competition the Mannes School of Music at the New School (the reader may see that review by clicking here: 2017 Mannes Concerto Competition Winners in Review). This week Mr. Gusev played a highly demanding solo program at Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall. In the interim, he has, among other pianistic activities, won a prize in the Chopin International Piano Competition, 2018 (USA) – to add to his already substantial list of awards and accolades – and has graduated with a Master of Music degree from Mannes, as a student of Jerome Rose.

If one had already formed a favorable opinion of Mr. Gusev’s playing last season, his musical gifts were even more clearly apparent in this recital. The program, for starters, contained a wide range of expressive musical styles and tremendous challenges. It included, for its major works, Mendelssohn’s Variations Serieuses, Op. 54 and Scriabin’s Sonata No. 2 in G-sharp minor (“Sonata Fantasy”), Op. 19, on the first half, and Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition on the second half. In addition, there were two Debussy Préludes from Book I, two Rachmaninoff Études-Tableaux from Op. 39, and to open, Scarlatti’s Sonata in F minor, K. 466.

As often happens, some of the shorter works were the most memorable. Mr. Gusev’s Scarlatti immediately established him as the kind of pianist whose playing will not be crimped by dictates of historic performance practice purists. He played with the full range of sounds that a modern grand piano affords and sufficient pedal to give each note a glow that reminded one of Scarlatti in the hands of Vladimir Horowitz. Rhythmically, there was an elasticity which gave shape and momentum to his phrases (with very few “tolls” paid to the downbeats), while never undercutting the solidity of the overall conception or meter. He graced his cantabile melodies with the kind of independence that leaves the left-hand part at times seeming merely to intertwine casually with the right (including some instances of left preceding right by a hair, and the reverse).

Dynamically, he was liberal with small expressive surges, and though some call this tendency “romanticizing,” such expressiveness has undoubtedly breathed life into vocal music since the beginning of time, and the world of piano is not so far removed. In summary, it was Scarlatti that brought a welcome measure of spontaneity to a world of dutiful readings and reflected Mr. Gusev’s familiarity with the styles of history’s great pianists.

Following Scarlatti came Mendelssohn’s Variations Serieuses, Op. 54, one of the composer’s masterpieces dating from 1841-2. Mr. Gusev shaped the weighty opening theme with exceptional dynamic gradation. Overall, the rest of the piece was played admirably too, though for this listener the earlier variations took flight a bit too soon. As compelling as these were, one wanted to savor more their relationship to the original theme, which can require a bit of time and breathing. There is plenty of speed and brilliance later in the piece, as Mr. Gusev made evident – from the fiery arpeggios of Variation VII, to the whirling triplets of VIII and IX, the rapid repeated chords of XII, the staccato passagework in XIII, and of course the virtuosic final variations. All were played with ample firepower, with the main reservations being occasional loss of clarity from some haste and heavy pedaling. A highlight was the D Major Variation XIV – which one would call Brahmsian, if Brahms had not been a mere child of around eight at the time! Here one heard the reverence so richly deserved by a composer too often pigeonholed for his “light fare.”

After the brilliant Mendelssohn came the relatively quiet lull of Rachmaninoff’s Étude -Tableau in A minor, Op. 39, No. 2. This is a piece which, though emotionally powerful with its slow trance-like minor triplets, is extremely hard to sustain for many artists. What impressed one about Ivan Gusev’s performance was that it had the perfect spaciousness for its long introspective opening – and yet without ever dropping the thread of continuity that holds the listener. He demonstrated excellent pacing as he built momentum to the work’s stormy center and returned to its desolate close. This Étude can feel interminable when not played well – but it was just right. Bravo! Again, it is often the smaller works which are memorable. The program continued with more Rachmaninoff, the darkly brilliant E-flat minor Étude, Op. 39, No. 5 played with excellent command.

Mr. Gusev closed the first half with Scriabin’s breathtaking Sonata No. 2, treating the first movement with utmost care in its warmly projected melodies and shimmering accompaniments. This listener favors a slightly slower tempo, simply because one then beholds each facet of that shimmering in all its crystalline glory – but then, that may also reflect this listener’s reluctance for the movement to end. There is not much that can follow such a movement except for the agitation of Scriabin’s seascape in the second movement – and Mr. Gusev played that as well as it can be played.

After intermission came two Debussy Préludes from Book I, No. 2 (Voiles, or Sails) and No. 3 (Le Vent dans le Plain, or Wind in the Plain). Voiles was wonderfully delicate, and both Études showed superb control. The two also set the stage well for more tonal “painting” to come in Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition, which occupied the rest of the program.

Pictures at an Exhibition is the sort of tour de force which demands enormous stamina – and to have it looming at the end of an already demanding program presents formidable challenges. For full disclosure, this reviewer confesses a slight bias against this piece, which often rewards the players of sheer brute force and little else, with some notable exceptions (including irresistible performances by Barry Douglas, particularly in Moscow nearly thirty years ago). A player of subtlety can be up against a juggernaut, though, and it does seem that there are many works of music better suited to Mr. Gusev’s gifts. That said, there was much to admire. Highlights included the Ballet of Unhatched Chicks, given biting precision and lightness, and Limoges, The Market (about which this reviewer noted simply, “quite brilliant”), and Bydlo, evoking the heavy plodding of oxen in its lumbering chords that receded into the distance.

Among reservations was that there was a tendency towards stridency rather than the sonorous grandeur one wanted in the Promenade and some other powerful sections. Some glitches in the fourth Promenade (in B-flat major again) were possibly due to some flagging energy, but there was also some messiness and what seemed excessive pedaling in Baba Yaga (“The Hut on Hen’s Legs”). Some of the latter could be said to enhance the nightmarish quality of that scene, which verges on madness anyway, but the finale, The Great Gate of Kiev, was also not the neatest; small mishaps are inevitable in the hands of the best pianists, however, and the program closed with great spirit.

Mr. Gusev played three encores, starting with Chopin’s posthumous Waltz in A minor. Here one heard more of Mr. Gusev’s imaginative interpreting, and more of those unfettered right-hand cantabile lines. Where the music moved to A major, his delicacy was captivating, with pedaling creating a reverberant effect resembling that of a music-box. He closed this magical waltz with a tossed-off quality that was a bit flippant, but not far from what one heard from some Golden Age pianists – as if to say, “c’est ça!”

A second encore followed, now Schumann’s Träumerei from Kinderszenen, played with a sensitivity and tonal glow worthy – again – of Horowitz. Following more warm applause, Mr. Gusev closed the evening with Chopin’s Waltz in D-flat, Op. 64, No. 1 (the “Minute” Waltz), played with elegance and flair. He is an artist with much to offer and one looks forward to hearing him again.

Eun Jung Vicky Lee, piano

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

November 6, 2018

Eun Jung Vicky Lee did a commendable job in her piano recital Tuesday at Carnegie’s Weill Hall – and though it was not billed as a debut anywhere on the program (or Carnegie Hall’s website), it offered a fine first hearing for this reviewer of a highly promising young pianist. A graduate of Eastman (B.M.) and New England Conservatory (M.M.), Ms. Lee has accumulated a good assortment of prizes and distinctions, especially from Canada and South Korea, and she currently teaches in Seoul while continuing to perform.

Ms. Lee offered a well-balanced program of repertoire from Bach through Rachmaninoff, with the only noticeably absent style period being our own current era – though this reviewer doesn’t believe that every “box” needs to be checked for all the style periods, as one should play what one loves and plays best! Ms. Lee showed a clear affinity for her chosen works and played with a high level of polish. The program included a Bach chorale prelude, Beethoven’s powerful Op. 110 Sonata, Debussy’s L’Isle Joyeuse, two Rachmaninoff Preludes, and the Liszt Réminiscences de Norma (Bellini) to close.

With grace and a lovely stage presence, she walked onstage to open with an arrangement of J.S Bach’s chorale Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring. While this Bach chorale melody makes for a beautiful opening, the arrangement itself left something to be desired – and oddly the arranger’s name was not listed. It seemed not to be the Myra Hess version one knows well, nor the Harold Bauer version, unless they were considerably altered. It had traits of both, as if a generic composite, but with some unsettling voice leading, some unusually thick basses, and a few distracting hand-crossings to emphasize a descending third treble motif (rather gratuitously, one felt). It speaks to the resilience of Bach’s music – and to Ms. Lee’s serene delivery – that this listener still felt overall a sense of Bach’s hallowed feeling regardless of arrangement issues.

Following Bach came Beethoven’s Sonata No. 31 in A-flat major, Op. 110, a monumental work from Beethoven’s late period. Ms. Lee was thoroughly prepared for its substantial technical challenges and showed overall a fine fidelity to details of the score and thoroughness in its complex fugal sections. She played with polish, professionalism and commitment, and in terms of accuracy, there were only the minutest of slips and a tiny bit of rushing here and there. With time to live with the work, Ms. Lee will undoubtedly project a conception of deeper and deeper insight. Meanwhile, this listener’s reservations could be categorized as stylistic and musical differences of opinion. For example, there seemed a tendency to breeze through structural junctures and to underplay moments of harmonic intensity, just where one wanted some grit and resistance, while arpeggiations and such were featured with a high gloss. The result was a slightly prettified quality which would probably only disturb a musician raised on Artur Schnabel et al. – or one steeped in the work for decades.

One felt the opposite in Debussy’s L’Isle Joyeuse, which with sparing pedal at some exposed transitions, had less of the dreamlike sparkling wash than one has usually heard. Even the trills at the very opening bore more resemblance to ornamentation from the prior century than to evocations of a mythical isle. Though just shy of the exotic abandon of this listener’s favorite performances, the performance gained in spirit and sweep as it progressed. The piece itself gains in spirit, but Ms. Lee’s level of comfort seemed also to increase. She finished it with winning conviction, joy, and brilliance, sending the large audience happily off to intermission.

The second half of the program opened with two selections from Rachmaninoff’s Preludes Op. 32. We heard No. 10 in B minor and No. 12 in G-sharp minor, both beautifully played and highlights of the evening. Ms. Lee gave the B minor Prelude the perfect feeling of solemnity, and one relished each moment of the glorious build. Moving on to the G-sharp minor Prelude, she played with crystalline clarity in the right-hand patterns, and a penetrating tone in the left-hand melody. Here one heard the command and artistic liberty which can take an audience on a truly memorable journey. These pieces fit the pianist like a glove.

Ms. Lee closed her program with Liszt’s Réminiscences de Norma (Bellini) by Franz Liszt, a virtuoso tour de force. She negotiated this pianistic climb extremely well – with no injuries! – but it may take just a bit more playing to transform it into the Romantic reveling that it can be. One imagines that the lush opera melodies will take ever increasing priority over the accompaniments’ extravagant arpeggiations and leaping octaves, and excess caution will become unnecessary. In the B major section, where the melody is set as repeated chords, the overall melodic grandeur will reign supreme, and the repetitions will become more and more like a passionate vibrato. In the E-flat minor con furia section, one will lose all politesse and relish the unbridled frenzy, leading an ending of great improvisatory sweep. Ms. Lee came so close to conveying these qualities that one can only hope that she will continue to play the piece for years to come. It will surely become a signature triumph. Meanwhile, it was certainly a high voltage ending to what was an excellent introduction to this New York audience.