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.

Solera String Quartet: Tricia Park, violin; Miki-Sophia Cloud, violin;

Molly Carr viola; Andrew Janss, cello;

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

October 23, 2018

This past Tuesday night, Weill Recital Hall was the scene of a highly promising and successful debut for the Solera Quartet, in a program that included Mozart’s String Quartet in D minor, K. 173, Beethoven’s String Quartet in A minor, Op. 132, and a quartet entitled Entr’acte (composed in 2011) by Caroline Shaw (b. 1982).

Winner of the 2017 Pro Musicis International Award (and the same organization’s 2018 Father Eugéne Merlet Award for Community Service), the New York City-based Solera Quartet, founded in 2015, is made up of four musicians with outstanding credentials quite apart from their work with Solera. Violinists Tricia Park and Miki-Sophia Cloud, violist Molly Carr, and cellist Andrew Janss have individual biographies which cite an Avery Fisher Career Grant, a Grammy nomination, a top prize in the Primrose International Viola Competition, and collaborations with renowned musicians in the world’s most prominent venues. The individual strengths of these four technically polished and musically vibrant performers were abundantly clear in Tuesday’s recital, but more important to see was that they work well as a very tightly knit ensemble, an achievement not always guaranteed by individual success.

Beyond their playing, Solera is a string quartet with noble missions. One of its stated missions is a charitable one, as they perform for incarcerated communities through their Prison Residency Project (recognized with a Guarneri String Quartet Residency, funded by the Chamber Music America Residency Partnership Program) – a commendable enterprise. Another of the quartet’s missions is to bridge old and new in music, based (as its biography states) “on a deep respect for the rich string quartet tradition alongside an intrepid desire to add new layers to that tradition through its fresh interpretations and innovative approach to the concert experience.” This mixture of old and new is expressed by the very name Solera, originally a Spanish word for the process of making wines and spirits by layering old and new vintages in one barrel.

While their name is ingenious (and arguably more mellifluous than the Japanese equivalent, shitsugi!), and their credentials are certainly impressive, one tries not to be swayed by anything but music. After all, artists are promoted these days as all things to all people – avant garde yet traditional, youthful yet mature, and so on – so which sort of spirit would this Solera barrel truly yield?

Their Mozart, K. 173, which opened, was played with a good mix of youthful vigor and mature probing for a work reflecting Mozart’s deepening involvement (at age seventeen) with this instrumentation. To continue the wine image, one could compare it to the first Beaujolais nouveau of the autumn, fresh, dark, and delicious! With the extroverted expressiveness of Ms. Park and Ms. Cloud, the golden sound of Mr. Janss, and the warm lines and support of Ms. Carr, the ensemble’s vibrancy commanded the audience’s attention from start to finish.

The Solera’s approach is highly physically demonstrative, to the point where one felt the upper strings might go airborne at any moment – a tendency which this reviewer hoped would not affect the hallowed Beethoven to come – but it worked to bring the Mozart a choreographic expressiveness. It can be thrilling for an audience to see the solo lines and phrases heightened visually, and undoubtedly some of this movement can enhance the group’s unity at times. In any case it was clear that all four musicians were truly present in every moment. Appropriately, Every Moment Present is the title of the Solera Quartet’s newly released CD, which this listener looks forward to hearing.

Particular highlights in the Mozart were the Menuetto with its central Trio full of playful phrasing and nuance, and the fugal last movement, a tour de force with its chromatic opening entrance delivered boldly by Mr. Janss and expertly knit together in the subsequent counterpoint. The first movement was the only movement that felt a bit uneasy to this listener, as if the violins were possibly trying to minimize the doggedness of its relentless repeated-note motif (one which one might call Beethovenian, had Beethoven not been only age three at the time of its composition in 1773).

The highlight of the program for this listener followed, Entr’acte by Pulitzer Prize-winning composer Caroline Shaw. Inspired by Haydn’s quartet op. 77, No. 2 and “its spare and soulful shift to an unexpected key for the central trio in the minuet,” Entr’acte takes things, as the composer’s notes state, “to the other side of Alice’s looking glass in a kind of absurd, subtle, technicolor transition.” It is an emotionally powerful work, reflecting clear connections to traditional string quartet music, but with inspired twists, dissonances, and extended techniques to convey (as this reviewer interpreted it) a musical tale of disintegration, struggle, and final loss.

The Solera Quartet played Entr’acte with complete commitment and intense involvement. As its tonal opening harmonies became increasingly disjunct, the musicians skillfully projected that dissolution, descending into what is marked on the score as “pitchless bow noise” – not an easy thing to pull off dramatically, and resulting inevitably in a laugh or two from a few unprepared audience members. The quartet handled the structure expertly, rebuilding energy in the central pizzicato section for a hint of musical stability before all devolved again into lone cello strumming by Mr. Janss, as if “recalling fragments of an old tune or story” (as the score states). The overall effect was devastating, at least as this musician received it.

There is certainly a theatrical element to the work, which the Solera ensemble handled sensitively, but it was never theatrical in a gimmicky way. Put to the test by a few re-hearings on Youtube (by the Solera, of course), Entr’acte emerged with equal power each time. Its music spoke of heartbreak and had this listener in tears.

Though one is at a loss to think of a corresponding wine for the above work, it was certainly a deep blend of old and very new. The second half, on the other hand, would be filled by the music of not only an older era, but an older composer facing illness and death. Beethoven’s String Quartet in A minor Op. 132, one of this listener’s all-time favorite quartets, has as its central movement a monumental masterpiece known as the Heiliger Dankgesang (“Holy Song of Thanks”). Though the admonition not to pour new wine into old wineskins is quite familiar, perhaps the Solera would be the young vessel for this very old and very great wine. One had high hopes.

The first two movements were so well wrought that this listener scribbled in the program, “the maturity and unity of conception that mark the great string quartets.” In fact, all four of the outer movements were hard to fault, with just an occasional intonation issue early on, resulting in some retuning between movements.

The only movement that seemed to want a bit more ripening was the glorious central movement, one of this listener’s favorite movements in the literature. Just as the Shaw piece recalls “fragments of an old tune or story,” it seems that Beethoven’s gratitude here is for gifts imagined and remembered from a rather distant convalescent state. Despite Beethoven’s outpourings of gratitude in this music, this listener finds that with too much energy or commotion in the local detail, the flourishes and trills, one can lose the overarching sense of the gravitas from which Beethoven’s blessed relief emerged. It is perhaps not a coincidence that this reviewer has tended to favor performances of this by older musicians, including one by the Alban Berg Quartet. Such perspective may be a tall order for a quartet full of youth, energy, and promise, but there is plenty of time for this wine to age.

Overall, it was a beautiful and memorable evening. Cheers to the Solera!