Rorianne Schrade | New York Concert Review, Inc.

Regina Shenderovich, pianist, in Review

Regina Shenderovich, piano

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

October 30, 2018

It is a rare pianist who undertakes to play the entire Art of the Fugue (Die Kunst der Fugue, BWV 1080) of J. S. Bach, especially in live concert. The work is an approximately eighty-minute masterpiece of fourteen fugues (Contrapuncti) plus four canons, all based on a single somber theme in D minor which is given an encyclopedic range of treatments – inversions, augmentations, diminutions, elaborations, stretti, double, triple, and mirror fugues, and just about every imaginable compositional manipulation. It has long been studied by musicians as a model of counterpoint, but it has been considered by many to be too cerebrally taxing for concert audiences.

Ensemble performances, including performances by the Juilliard String Quartet and the Stuttgart Chamber Orchestra, to name two, have met with success, due in part to the clarity provided by differing instruments assigned to different lines. As the work was composed without specified instrumentation and in open score (just soprano, alto, tenor, and bass staves), it has remained uncertain how the work was intended to be played, though again some persist in theorizing that it was meant not to be played at all and is of purely theoretical value. A pianist performing it is thus faced not only with the colossal challenge of “merely” playing it, but also some persistent criticism of the very act of performing it.

Despite such a challenge (or because of it), some renowned keyboard artists have been drawn to perform and/or record the work, notable among them pianists Glenn Gould, Tatiana Nikolayeva, and Pierre-Laurent Aimard, not including harpsichordists and organists. More recent contributions have included those by Evgeni Koroliov and Angela Hewitt, but the numbers are still relatively few. We can now add another name to this list of intrepid musicians: Regina Shenderovich. For the reader wanting only to hear about her exceptional recital at Weill Hall and not about the work, one can skip the next paragraph – but meanwhile, there is one more challenge to discuss.

The earliest autograph of Die Kunst der Fuge (or KDF as it is abbreviated) stems from the 1740’s, but when Bach resumed work on it in the years prior to his death in 1750, he was suffering from a debilitating eye disease. J. S. Bach’s son, C.P.E. Bach, supervised its posthumous publication in 1751, but the final fugue, Contrapunctus XIV, had been left unfinished due to Bach’s death. (There were other questions linked with the publication as well, some attributed to C.P.E Bach and some to the engravers.) Performers have tackled the incompleteness variously. Some (including Glenn Gould and the Academy of St. Martin in the Fields) recorded it unfinished – one of music’s stranger experiences to hear this amazing music cut off mid-measure! Others have used completions composed by scholars, including one by Donald Francis Tovey in the early twentieth century and more recently the beautiful completion by Kevin Korsyn (as heard on pianist Craig Sheppard’s CD released just this past September). How would tonight’s pianist approach these challenges – and of course, how would she play it?

Enter Regina Shenderovich, walking onstage with modest, unassuming demeanor. She opened, amazingly, with yet another fugue, Mendelssohn’s Prelude and Fugue in E minor, Op. 35, No. 1, giving it an admirable performance (if perhaps adding unnecessarily to the program’s ample scope – the Bach was really enough for one evening)! After a brief break Ms. Shenderovich returned for the Bach, and what followed was simply spellbinding. Navigating this great work with undemonstrative lucidity and indisputable mastery, Ms. Shenderovich guided her listener expertly through this mind-boggling Bach journey. She is a musician of prodigious gifts, including a formidable intellect.

Not only was Ms. Shenderovich able to project each fugue subject with clarity, whether direct, inverted, in augmentation, or in whatever form, but she followed each line faithfully through to its conclusion as other layers intertwined. What is behind some of Ms. Shenderovich’s success is – aside from her exceptional mind – her highly developed finger technique, capable of projecting a theme dynamically and taming whatever contrapuntal brambles surround it. Of course, dynamic control was far from her only resource, as she delivered each entrance with sufficient variety of articulation to render the subsequent entrances vividly recognizable without the excessive dynamic emphasis that can quickly grow so tiresome.

Overall, Ms. Shenderovich achieved a transparency of texture, such that that one found oneself admiring the beautiful variety of countersubjects, episodes, and surrounding counterpoint rather than feeling prodded to check off “important” entrances as if one were birdwatching and labeling each sighting. One could always hear a fugue subject, but more aptly put, its presence was felt – and one was never bludgeoned with it.

There are undoubtedly pianists out there whose severity of approach convinces critics that the set should not be performed; it is a different story, however, when there is sincere dedication to the “Art” in The Art of the Fugue. Ms. Shenderovich’s performance, although far from the overt emotion of, let’s say, Glenn Gould, reflected a genuine and deep commitment to the music, and she made a compelling case for its performance on the modern piano.

It would be good to see Ms. Shenderovich continue to perform this work and possibly to record it at some point. Once an interpretation has reached such a high level, that is where the “magic” really begins, as the musician takes time to step back from it and return to it with even more life. There is already individuality in her interpretation – the freewheeling dancelike character of her Contrapunctus IX, the expressive lingering before some entrances (memorably in Contrapunctus X), and much more; one could, however, imagine even more color and “play” in the imitative lines towards the end of Contrapuctus XIII Inversus and other spots. The very open score nature of the music in fact encourages freedom of imagination, including vocal phrasing and nuance.

One hesitates, though, to suggest anything in the face of what was already such an enormous achievement.

Now, what about the work’s ending? Well, on this occasion Ms. Shenderovich chose to play the final Contrapunctus XIV in its incomplete version, but she softened that blow after a momentary pause by playing the chorale prelude Wenn wir höchsten Nöten sein (When we are in utmost need) also known as Vor deinen Thron tret ich hiermit (Before Thy Throne I now appear) BWV 668a. C.P.E. Bach had included this chorale prelude in the posthumous publication of The Art of the Fugue and faced some later criticism for a seemingly arbitrary decision – yet J. S. Bach was reported to be revising it in his last days, and that association led it to be known as the Deathbed Chorale. It seemed a justifiable choice to close the pensive evening, and Ms. Shenderovch played it beautifully. The entire concert was dedicated to the memory of Ms. Shenderovich’s mother, Polina Shenderovich, and the mood was fittingly meditative.

Incidentally, for those who wish to know, Ms. Shenderovich chose to play The Art of the Fugue with the score, though one doubts that she needed it. Surely no harm came from having the score there, except for the occasional nanosecond distraction of page-turning. Such details have many solutions, including computer page-turning from digitized score, but one half expects that Ms. Shenderovich will play the work again at some point without the score, as it is all surely a part of her.

This listener gave the performer a well-deserved standing ovation and only regretted that there were not more people present to enjoy and appreciate the concert. Granted, it was not a program for the uninitiated – certainly not one for junior’s first concert! – but it seemed criminal that there were any empty seats. Perhaps a performer who is inclined to devote the necessary attention to Die Kunst der Fuge is not typically one with the time or skills for marketing (get that pianist a manager!), but more could have been done to promote the evening. There was also nothing by way of written promotion of Ms. Shenderovich as a pianist on the program, and so one still knows little about her. Certainly nothing in a brief internet search prepared one for her tremendous abilities, just as nothing about her “just another day” stage presence did. It was all about Bach – and a beautiful experience because of it. Brava and encore!

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

Pro Musicis Presents the Solera Quartet in Review

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!

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

Pro Musicis presents Delphine Bardin in Recital

Delphine Bardin, pianist

Weill Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

September 25, 2018

A recital program of unusual subtlety, played with exceptional nuance and sensitivity, was presented this week by French pianist Delphine Bardin under the auspices of the Pro Musicis organization. She assembled a program of some of the more intimate works of Mozart, Schumann, and Debussy, and she did so with a special, understated artistry. To sum things up, in a world of loud messages and hype, Ms. Bardin showed the power of a whisper.

Walking onstage with undemonstrative, dignified demeanor, Ms. Bardin is the antithesis of classical music “stars” today, many of whom value flash and ratings. She is all about the music, and whether or not that quality gains ultimate recognition will reflect more on the world than on her gifts as an artist.

Opening her program with Mozart’s oft-overlooked Sonata in B-flat major, K. 281, she played with consummate control, pure, crystalline sound, and lucid conception. While experts in studies of historical performance practice would undoubtedly approve of her every note, her playing never devolved into the porcelain-doll preciosity that besets that specialization. Though dwelling within polite Classical boundaries, her Mozart was vibrant and feelingful, as far as one can go in that direction without anachronism or overromanticizing. She inhabited each note with sincerity. Though she never overtly flaunted her technique, her degree of technical control – including impossibly pianissimo trilling – was stunning.

Glancing at the program’s biographical notes, one was reminded that Ms. Bardin was the winner of the Clara Haskil Prize (1997, Vevey, Switzerland), an easily imaginable win, in view of the musical similarities between Ms. Bardin and the late great Haskil (1895-1960). The Clara Haskil International Piano Competition, which selected such winners as Christoph Eschenbach and Richard Goode (and past finalists including Mitsuko Uchida and Jeffrey Kahane), fittingly helped launch Ms. Bardin’s career and led to a performance on Carnegie Hall’s “Distinctive Debut Series” in 2001. This week’s concert marked Ms. Bardin’s first solo performance at this Carnegie since 2001, but she was not idle in the interim! She has concertized, won the 2009 Pro Musicis International Award (resulting in this week’s performance, among others), and received the coveted “Diapason d’Or” award (2010) for her recording of the thirteen Barcarolles by Gabriel Fauré.

After Mozart, Ms. Bardin moved to Schumann – not the Sonata No. 2 in G minor, Op. 22, as announced on the Carnegie Hall website and elsewhere, but the much-loved Kinderszenen, Op. 15. This set of thirteen miniatures suited the pianist well, each heard afresh thanks to the same understated approach that characterized her Mozart. The first piece, Von fremden Ländern und Menschen (Of Foreign Lands and People), might have seemed too straight-forward at first, causing an impatient reviewer to criticize prematurely, but with the repeat of each of its halves, there was ever-deeper expressivity, and all made sense in retrospect. Ms. Bardin knows how to defer gratification in favor of delayed deliciousness, a quality which brought to mind the elegance of, say, Alicia de Larrocha and other similarly refined performers. Further deferred rewards were found in Bittendes Kind (Pleading Child), Traumerei (Dreaming), and the meltingly beautiful Kind im Einschlummern (Child Falling Asleep).

Inner voices were beautifully highlighted in Fast zu Ernst (Almost Too Serious), although, as a minor reservation, this listener wanted a bit more projection of the top lines, as one also wanted in Glückes genug (Happy Enough) and Fürchtenmachen (Frightening). Some fuller moments (forte or fortissimo) were also tempered, for example in Ritter vom Stechkenpferd (Knight of the Hobbyhorse) and Wichtige Begebenheit (Important Event), though the spirit was vigorous nonetheless.

Dynamics are by nature a relative matter, and so a truly skillful pianist can create excitement and musical shape without high decibel levels. Ms. Bardin did just that. Highlights were Kuriose Geschichte (A Curious Story), filled with vivid character, and Häsche-Mann (Blind Man’s Bluff), equally vibrant, with its sharp accents and rapid, electrically-charged staccato notes reminding one of the great Martha Argerich.

Following Kinderszenen came the most unusual selection, the five posthumous variations on the theme of Schumann’s Symphonic Etudes, Op. 13. Countless times one has heard these five variations interspersed among the other twelve core Etudes of Schumann’s great set, and countless times this reviewer has heard (and performed) the Op. 13 without the additional five; what was a completely new experience for this musician, though, was to hear the five played alone without the larger set, simply the Five Posthumous Variations from Symphonic Etudes, Op. 13. At first it seemed as strange and disembodied – like reciting a play’s epilogue without the play; in the hands of Ms. Bardin, however, it was ultimately persuasive. The five variations are certainly jewels, standing on their own merits (as long as the main theme is included, as it was by Ms. Bardin), so perhaps their separate performance will settle into common practice eventually – though this musician, at the risk of seeming a curmudgeon, hopes not. In any case, they were given, as predicted, extremely sensitive renderings, with again the forte end of the spectrum subdued to leave one in a meditative state for intermission.

If one sensed already that Ms. Bardin is a unique artist, her second half of all Debussy confirmed the impression. Taking on Debussy’s Images, Book I, Ms. Bardin was superb in all three pieces. She dazzled with her abilities to paint sonic landscapes in the shimmering Reflets dans l’eau and to sustain and give direction to the slow, ponderous Hommage à Rameau. Ms. Bardin’s sad spoken reminder of Debussy’s death in 1918 (this year being the centennial) made especially poignant her voicing of Mouvement, only nominally vivacious, with its ominous references to Dies Irae in the left hand.

Debussy’s Études, Book I, closed the concert. It was a brave programming move, as these six pieces can be difficult for audiences to embrace. The titles themselves, referring to intervals and numbers of fingers, allude not to sparkling water or other colorful images that the average listener can latch onto, but to aspects of piano pedagogy – five-finger playing, thirds, fourths, octaves, etc. Though each piece can be a gem which transcends such matters, their success depends upon an unusually keen intellect, combined with technical mastery, a vivid imagination, and the ability to project the same to the audience. Ms. Bardin possesses all of these qualities. Her technique was brilliant in the most unforgiving passages and her pedaling was a marvel. One could not help thinking how great it would be to hear her perform all twelve of Debussy’s Études one day – though one would also like to hear her in the Préludes. In any case one will certainly be hearing more from this very special artist.

The fine program notes of Dr. Richard E. Rodda undoubtedly helped the audience along, but whether because of these or because of the performances – or both – the listeners were exceptionally attentive. They seemed spellbound and gave the pianist a rousing ovation at the end of this remarkable evening.

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

AGP Agency New York presents Bence Szepesi, clarinet in Review

Bence Szepesi, clarinet

Zhao Yangmingtian, piano

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall

September 19, 2018 at 8pm

Bence Szepesi may not be a name known to many New York musicians, but that could change quite easily, if Wednesday night’s debut recital is any gauge. He is an extremely gifted clarinetist, for starters, and his program – works of Leo Weiner, Brahms, Bernstein, and Rossini – was quite appealing. Beyond that, as the evening progressed, he displayed an ability to connect to his audience in a way that will serve him well wherever he goes.

For the record, the above summary is not clairvoyance; Mr. Szepesi has already achieved considerable recognition in his native Hungary and throughout Europe, as his biographical notes outlined briefly. A graduate with distinction from the Franz Liszt Academy of Music in Budapest, he counts among his honors Hungary’s Artisjus Award and now teaches at the University of Miskolc. He has lectured and performed widely as soloist and as principal clarinetist of the Dohnanyi Symphony Orchestra, and he directs the Budapest Saxophone Quartet, which he founded in 1995. For more information one can visit his website: www.benceszepesi.com/en.

The presenter for this occasion was an organization called AGP, headed by Hungarian pianist Adam Gyorgy, whose charisma and elegance are becoming increasingly known as he appears internationally. Mr. Gyorgy spoke eloquently at the opening of the evening to the sold-out house, as did a dignitary from the Hungarian consulate, together creating an air of excitement and anticipation. It was good to have such an opening introduction, as Mr. Szepesi’s own entrance struck one initially as almost self-effacing. No one could guess, as he walked onstage with pianist Zhao Yangmingtian, what impressive playing lay ahead, though it only took one piece to find out.

The program opened with the famous showpiece for clarinet and piano, Peregi Verbunk, Op. 40, by Leo Weiner. Its subtitle “Recruiting Dance” proved apt, as it effectively rallied the listeners measure by measure. By the end, the audience was fully “on board” musically. Weiner created a work here not unlike what one would expect if Franz Liszt had written his Hungarian Rhapsodies for clarinet – opening after a flourish with a soulful folk-like melody in minor mode, it becomes more rousing and elaborate bit by bit. Mr. Szepesi met all of its challenges with a superb sense of line in the long-breathed phrases and astonishing ease in the fleet passagework. Especially in the extended solo cadenza, he proved himself to be a master of his instrument. He was attentive to matters of tone in every register – and in a very wide dynamic range. Mr. Yangmingtian collaborated ably, lending judicious support throughout and with precise “punctuation” for the improvisatory clarinet acrobatics – no mean feat!

Moving on to the ballast of the program, the musicians took on the Brahms Sonata for Clarinet and Piano in E-flat (Op. 120 No. 2). A magnificent autumnal work, both in spirit and in terms of chronology, it was written only a few years before the composer’s death for his clarinet “muse” Richard Mühlfeld. Mr. Szepesi had just the right warmth of sound for this piece, and again an exquisite sense of line. This listener felt that the overall performance would have benefitted from both performers taking more time to create a mellower, more spacious feeling, but that may be hard to achieve unless a duo performs together regularly. This evening showed some signs of being an ad hoc collaboration.

On the subject of time, many performers now try to accommodate the dreaded (computer-induced?) attention-deficit audience. The printed program even announced the concert’s total duration (an increasing trend), as “55 minutes, no intermission” – a short evening, indeed! This reviewer is usually grateful for such thoughtfulness regarding time, but one hopes that such consideration is not invading performers’ thinking to the detriment of full surrender to the musical experience. Late Brahms sometimes needs simply to take the listener by the hand, unapologetically, to a different musical era which knows no subways or rush-hours.

On the subject of haste, there appeared also to have been some hasty ensemble preparation. Though Mr. Szepesi led with beautifully seamless fluid lines, the piano and clarinet parts just missed melding in tempo and conception. The

second movement in particular had an unsettled feeling. Granted, it is “appassionato,” but it is passion of a mature nature, pensive and searching enough to set off the “creamy center” in B major, music of profound nobility.

Taking more time might have encouraged more attention to blending of timbres too. The pianist, described by Mr. Gyorgy as being also a soloist who will debut in that capacity next season, sounded just a tad too soloistic at times. The steeliness of sound which might have been perfect in a work of Liszt or Prokofiev tended to overwhelm the chamber collaboration, and the piano lid being all the way up may not have helped (though this reviewer usually likes it up as long as the approach is tempered accordingly).

Where the duo worked perfectly together was in the final work of the printed program, Leonard Bernstein’s Sonata for Clarinet and Piano. Here was music delivered with unified conception, spirit, and polish, and the slight edge in the piano sound was an asset. The piece itself, composed when Bernstein was in his early twenties, was a joy to hear – and just when one wondered what room there may be for more in this year of Bernstein’s centennial, the duo proved that what is good cannot wear out its welcome. They played with spirit, energy, and brilliance.

Mr. Yangmingtian shone in the rapid rhythmic dancelike sections and was beautifully flexible throughout. Mr. Szepesi projected an enormous range of sounds from the faintest tones to clarion brightness and piercing brashness where called for. The synchronization was terrific. The excited audience clapped in rhythm to request an encore, and Rossini’s Introduction, Theme and Variations, which had been listed in the original publicity for the concert but omitted from the printed program, was reinstated.

To say that the Rossini piece was brilliant would be an understatement. The pyrotechnics from the clarinet were simply breathtaking. Lightning fast passagework and quicksilver dynamic changes were all within seemingly easy grasp, and a dazzling finish led to still more thunderous ovations.

Just as all appeared to be coming to a lengthy parade of flowers, and your reviewer and others in the audience had already dashed out, a house intercom audible in the elevator could be heard relaying, “last piece,” – so despite having finally reached the lobby, this reviewer ran back up to catch the final moments of a second encore. A klezmer-esque showstopper, unleashing the folkdance spirit in performers and audience alike, was closing the evening on yet another high. The audience was ecstatic and will surely return for more.

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

Fryderyk Chopin Society of Texas presents Dzmitry Ulasiuk in Review

Winners of the 25th (2017) International Chopin Piano Competition

Dzmitry Ulasiuk, pianist

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall

September 17, 2018

As a Winner of the 2017 International Chopin Piano Competition of the Fryderyk Chopin Society of Texas (Corpus Christi), Belarus-born pianist Dzmitry Ulasiuk (www.dzmitryulasiuk.com) took the stage of Weill Hall at Carnegie Hall for his half of the winners’ concert with what amounted to a full program in itself. Expectations were high, naturally, but he met and surpassed them with exceptional artistry.

Mr. Ulasiuk chose to open with Ten Pieces from Romeo and Juliet, Op. 75, a thirty-five-minute set of Prokofiev’s own piano arrangements from his famous ballet. The rest of the pianist’s program was Scriabin, including the Sonata No. 9, Op. 68 (“Black Mass”), and the Sonata No. 5 in F-sharp Major, Op. 53 as his finale. Shorter offerings included the Nocturne for the Left Hand, Op. 9, No. 2, two Etudes from Op. 42 (No. 4 in F-sharp Major and No. 5 in C-sharp minor), and three Mazurkas (Op. 3, Nos. 7 and 9, and Op. 25, No. 3).

Curiously, for this Chopin-inspired competition, Mr. Ulasiuk played no Chopin, but, as he noted following his gracious opening remarks, “Chopin exists here between the lines” – referring to the great piano legacy of Chopin which can be felt in all piano compositions following in the Romantic period and beyond. Particularly in the Scriabin Mazurkas one felt – for obvious reasons – the strong connection to Chopin; when one plays Russian music as well as Mr. Ulasiuk does, however, any names, nationalities, or needs to justify repertoire tend to disappear.

It should be noted that Mr. Ulasiuk began his portion of the program around 9:45pm. The first part of the program, already close to 90 minutes long, had been lengthened by an encore requested of the first winner by one of the contest’s administrators – Chopin’s Polonaise Op. 53, no less! Mr. Ulasiuk proved himself to be a consummate professional, showing not the slightest bit of fatigue. In fact, this listener was already starting to flag due to the late hour but was immediately rejuvenated by the first notes of his intense musicianship.

The Romeo and Juliet pieces were superb. First of all, Mr. Ulasiuk projects quite easily the huge and well-balanced sonorities that reach every corner of a concert hall. One couldn’t help thinking, through the thundering bellicose Montagues and Capulets and the balletic Masks, how ideally suited he must be for Prokofiev’s Third Concerto – but back to the pieces at hand! Along with ample power and technique, Mr. Ulasiuk revealed sensitivity and soulfulness at all the right times, giving a hallowed feeling to Friar Lawrence (with the perfect amount of breathing in his phrasing!) and creating beautifully delicate shadings in his haunting rendition of the Dance of the Girls with Lilies. He captured the character of each dance expertly, making Mercutio spring to life and weaving a spell in Young Juliet. The final dance, Romeo and Juliet before Parting, conveyed more heartbreak than Shakespeare’s own words could. Mr Ulasiuk is an artist of depth and mastery, with unwavering conceptions which capture his listener. His conception of Romeo and Juliet was one to remember, and one hopes he will consider recording the set.

There are times when a reviewer simply decides to put pencil and paper away and enjoy the music, and this was one of those times. The remainder of this well-crafted program only confirmed one’s initial impression that Mr. Ulasiuk is an exceptional artist. Scriabin’s Nocturne for the Left Hand was controlled beautifully, with only occasional differences of opinion on the pedaling (it would seem on the verge of being too much, but all did make sense ultimately). In the Etude in C-sharp, oddly, one wanted a bit more pedal to help enhance the expansive harmonies, and basses in particular, but again these were matters of personal preference, and his interpretations were never less than persuasive. His playing always had direction and dramatic shape.

Scriabin’s “Black Mass” Sonata was one of the high points of the Scriabin selections, and it has never been this reviewer’s favorite, so kudos are in order! Again, Mr. Ulasiuk had a cogent and cohesive interpretation. Poetic renditions of three Mazurkas followed as a musical buffer before the Sonata, No. 5, which was given a performance emphasizing its inherent jolts and extremes.

The Fifth Sonata is viewed as a transitional work between Scriabin’s early period, in which the kinship with Chopin is felt strongly, and the late period, with its wild, mystical explorations. Mr. Ulasiuk’s performance favored the edginess of the latter. One imagines that there must have been some cross-pollination happening during his work on the Ninth Sonata, which on the other hand felt more rooted in tradition and graspable than usual – a refreshing surprise. In any case, both performances were nigh impossible to fault, save for the occasional near-negligible smudge, and both were thought-provoking and compelling.

In summary, it was a brilliant recital by an artist whom one will certainly want to follow. Bravo!

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

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) Presents Spirit Journey in Review

Distinguished Concerts Orchestra/Distinguished Concerts Singers International;

Pepper Choplin, Composer/Conductor; Mark Hayes, DCINY Composer-In-Residence;

Kevin McBeth and Andy Waggoner, Guest Conductors;

Leslie Mabe and Rachel Schutz, Sopranos; John Robert Green, Baritone; Steve Coldiron, Narrator

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presented yet another large-scale concert last weekend at Carnegie Hall, and as has often been the case, it was more than a concert. Entitled “Spirit Journey,” the event centered on choral music of prayer and faith by Mark Hayes and Pepper Choplin, and there were moments when one needed to pinch oneself to remember that one was at Carnegie Hall and not in a church. Naturally, many of Western music’s most profound creations have sprung from faith or have been dedicated to it, and one thinks of (among others) the colossal contributions of J. S. Bach, with his initialing of SDG, Soli Deo Gloria (“To God Alone be the Glory”) at the end of many masterpieces; this concert, though, was much more overt in its religiosity and even included the interspersing of miniature sermon-like introductions between movements of one work, recited by narrator Steve Coldiron. The homilies were an interesting touch, but neither enhancing nor detracting from the musical experience for which this listener came.

Mark Hayes and Pepper Choplin are two composers who are quite well-known to DCINY. This concert marked Pepper Choplin’s fifth appearance with DCINY, and Mark Hayes is currently the composer-in-residence for DCINY. Their compositional styles made for a simpatico pairing, though with distinct differences here due to the contrasting selections, Mr. Choplin’s chosen work being overall a bit more sweetly hymn-like, while the contributions of Mr. Hayes emphasized a more rhythmic earthiness in Spirit Suites I and II and selected arrangements of spirituals.

Mr. Choplin’s sole work of the evening, Our Father: A Journey through the Lord’s Prayer made up the first half and was conducted energetically by its composer. The conception itself struck this listener as ingenious, with its nine movements each centering on a different phrase from the Lord’s Prayer. Considering such fertile material, though, this listener wanted a bit more harmonic or contrapuntal variety. The Lead Us Not into Temptation movement was appropriately troubled in its minor tonality and rhythmic urgency, and there were elements of despair and struggle in the Let Your Kingdom Come movement as well, but a certain sweet glossiness verging on commercialism tended to dominate some other movements. The influence of non-classical genres was apparent in a way that this listener, at the risk of sounding overly traditional, found a bit off-puttingly schmaltzy for such a hallowed text. Some parts even brought to mind a nightclub sort of flavor, including Holy Be Thy Name (which, on each successive repetition of the descending major sixth on the word “Holy” had this listener thinking more and more of Patsy Cline in Crazy).

High points among the Choplin movements included Forgive Us with its sigh-like motive bringing it a stirring and genuinely plaintive quality. Particularly successful as well was the introduction (later reprised) of We Are Not Alone, a movement set to those words in an excited rhythmic whisper, creating the backdrop for the prayer itself. The reprise of it was creatively handled, and all was given an excellent performance by the Distinguished Concerts Orchestra and Distinguished Concerts Singers International. Leslie Mabe, soprano and also director of one of the choirs (the St. Paul United Methodist Church, from Virginia) sang her solo part with a pure and beautiful tone.

Mr. Choplin is a composer with unquestionable experience, popularity, and a prolific output. He is the composer of over 275 anthems for church and school choir, with 19 church cantatas, a book of piano arrangements and over a hundred commissions. His works have sold several million copies since 1991. He obviously has a “secret recipe” that brings delight to many, and the large audience seemed to revel in the experience.

After intermission we heard two suites of spirituals and several individual spiritual arrangements by Mark Hayes. Mr. Hayes is an award-winning pianist, composer, arranger, and conductor with a personal catalog of over 1000 published works. He has conducted his own major works at Carnegie Hall, Lincoln Center, and in a festival of sacred music sponsored by none other than the Vatican.

Spirit Suite I was conducted charismatically by Kevin McBeth and opened with a rousing rhythmic rendition of the song, In That Great Gittin’ Up Mornin’. The soloist for all three songs in this suite was soprano Rachel Schutz, who gave exceptionally fine performances. This reviewer frequently opts not to read performers’ biographical notes before a concert, preferring to take the interpretations on their own merits, but some performers send one flipping quickly to the back of a program to find out “who is this giving such an amazing performance?” Ms. Schutz inspired this reaction. Especially in the song, Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child, she shone, handling its unaccompanied iterations with heartbreaking feeling. Mr. Hayes had varied the main melody beautifully, sending the elaborations skyward, and Ms. Schutz rose to the challenge with effortless grace. Didn’t My Lord Deliver Daniel? closed the set with exuberance, and despite brass, percussion, and strings in full force, the soprano voice penetrated with impressive clarity.

It is rare to have two such remarkable singers in one night, but it was a lucky night. Spirit Suite II, conducted expertly by Andy Waggoner, enlisted the talents of baritone John Robert Green, who was perfectly suited to this repertoire, with a rich and deep sound, robust and regal. He gave Little David, Play on Your Harp an infectious energy, and imbued the perennial favorite, Swing Low, Sweet Chariot, with such pure emotion that a number of tissues were spotted being pulled from pockets and purses. Joshua Fit the Battle of Jericho, as Mr. Hayes has arranged it, is irresistibly dance-like, and Mr. Green, with the chorus and orchestra, captured the spirit to perfection.

Kevin McBeth returned to the stage to conduct a winning performance of I Want Jesus to Walk with Me, leaving Mr. Waggoner to conduct the New York Premiere of Deep River, given a full-blown treatment worthy of a Hollywood film score. A rollicking rendition of Ain’t that Good News (also a Mark Hayes New York Premiere) made for a high-spirited close to the program.

The audience stood and gave a loud ovation, many members apparently excited to be present for their loved ones in the choruses from Arkansas, California, Georgia, Illinois, Missouri, North Carolina, Ohio, Pennsylvania, Virginia, Washington, Brazil, and Canada. Kudos once again to DCINY!

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

The Alexander and Buono Foundation Presents Thomas Nickell and the Oistrakh Symphony of Chicago in Review

Thomas Nickell, piano; The Oistrakh Symphony of Chicago, Mina Zikri, Conductor

Jeff Glor, Anchor, CBS Evening News, Honorary Chair and Host

Zankel Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

June 3, 2018

This past Sunday at Carnegie Hall brought some concert “firsts” for this reviewer (not counting the challenges of parades, protests, and resultant chaos throughout Manhattan, unfortunately not firsts).

It was this listener’s first time hearing a touring orchestra from Chicago that was not the Chicago Symphony Orchestra but rather the Oistrakh Symphony of Chicago, named, one assumes, after the great violinist David Oistrakh, an auspicious homage indeed. Under the leadership of excellent conductor Mina Zikri, this orchestra (founded in 2005 of largely young professionals) proved itself to be a commendable ensemble – undoubtedly a welcome addition to the “Windy City” and beyond.

It was also this listener’s first time hearing promising young pianist and composer, Thomas Nickell, age nineteen, in a program that included, among other works, Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. 2, Op. 19, and Totentanz of Franz Liszt, both works that often get overlooked in favor of their more popular relatives (Beethoven’s Concertos 1,3, 4, and 5, and Liszt’s Concertos 1 and 2). It was a pleasure to see the two being programmed, and it was a pleasure to discover a young musician who is set apart in many ways from his peers.

The concert opened, rather unusually, with just the first movement, the Allegro con brio, of Beethoven’s Symphony No. 3 (the “Eroica”). It was odd to hear this portion of a masterpiece almost relegated to the role of an overture, but in terms of playing, aside from the need for more power in the lower strings, what one heard was excellent, played with regal spirit. Beethoven devotees may be disappointed by such excerpting, this listener included, but there seemed to be other priorities for the concert, particularly the featuring of Mr. Nickell, who followed with Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. 2.

Mr. Nickell, who has concertized actively for several years, is currently studying at the Mannes College of Music where he is a double major in piano and composition. He has many admirable qualities as a performer, including an engaging and professional stage presence, overall technical mastery, the ability to respond with individuality to a musical score, and the ability to express that response with conviction. These are no small advantages.

Mr. Nickell also possesses a quality one finds endemic to composer-pianists, namely a pronounced tendency to favor the “big picture” over local detail – an asset and a potential liability all at once. He clearly grasps the overall architecture of what he plays, with none of the myopia of the mere technician, thankfully, but with such an aerial view that some finer elements are occasionally obscured. In his Beethoven, there were harmonies warranting extra intensity that were glossed over, thus losing expressiveness, as well as melodic phrases that needed more time for details to be articulated and to project the music’s full spirit and character. Perhaps the excitement of the occasion led to these issues, or perhaps they were viewed as pesky “details” – though one uses quotation marks, because the “details” in great music can be so important. In any case a slightly slower tempo in the first movement might have benefited the interpretation while probably enhancing the clarity in some of the left-hand passagework as well.

The above is not to say that Mr. Nickell lacks technical facility – he does not, and at times he displayed the light and fleet finger-work that reminded one of some of Glenn Gould’s recordings – but it struck this listener that Mr. Nickel, as a composer, may be so immersed in his own musical sound world that it may be hard to commit himself fully to the world of another composer, including historical milieu, philosophy, style, and notation (including the dynamics, which tended to need more attention in this performance). This speculation seemed supported by Mr. Nickell’s cadenza, which did not emerge as enhancing Beethoven’s concerto in this listener’s opinion. Though a cadenza’s traditional role does involve spotlighting the soloist, it should also serve the body of the work and not dissipate or dilute the momentum and tension of the movement, as it seemed to here.

Elsewhere, where Mr. Nickell took time, he was well rewarded. A highlight of his Beethoven, and perhaps the entire concert, was the hallowed Adagio movement. Mr. Nickell is unafraid of extremes of softness and slowness, and he savors the heart-stopping lulls more than many players. Thus, where Beethoven marked con gran espressione, Mr. Nickell maximized the moment, creating such a spell of quietude that one found oneself glowering at a neighboring audience member for breathing too loudly. The Rondo movement closed with plenty of sparkle, so much so that one wondered whether there had simply been a need to warm up during the first movement.

After intermission, the program became a virtual mini-recital for the pianist alone, without orchestra. Orchestra members (alas – having traveled a significant distance to play!) simply waited offstage, while Mr. Nickell played an eclectic variety of works. Again, the raison d’être for the program seems to have been to showcase Mr. Nickel. We heard him in works by Henry Cowell, Frédéric Chopin, and also by Thomas Nickell himself (with Philip Glass Etude No. 2 on the printed program but canceled). All of that came before the orchestra rejoined him for Totentanz, making for quite a demanding afternoon.

Two of Cowell’s best-known works opened the second half, The Tides of Manaunaun, with its growling bass forearm clusters, and Aeolian Harp, with its ethereal harmonies and glissandi on the strings inside the piano. It will be interesting to see whether Mr. Nickell will choose a niche (not that one must necessarily choose), but this listener’s guess is that he will fare the best with repertoire of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. He played the Cowell pair sensitively and with dedication, without pause. He then launched into Chopin’s Polonaise in F-sharp minor, Op. 44, arguably one of Chopin’s more difficult works interpretively. Again, one heard artistry with a broad brushstroke and some ensuing messiness, but the most that one really wants to suggest to such a maverick is slowing down to smell some of the roses (and not just in the slow movements as many extremists do).

Mr. Nickell’s own composition, Innisfree, followed. A piano transcription of a song he composed, it revealed the influence of Cowell and possibly Crumb in its extended techniques, all while expressing a mood of meditation and mystery that seems to reflect the beginnings of his own individual style. One eagerly awaits hearing his future compositions.

Totentanz concluded the concert with an ease that belied its difficulty. Effective emphasis of rests and pauses maximized the ponderous qualities, but there was room for more biting pianistic brilliance. One wants to be spellbound by this piece, but the drama wasn’t quite full force. What was missing was a sense of the terror of the Dies Irae (or “Day of Wrath” in Latin – oddly misspelled in the program notes as “Das Irie”).

Will there be time for this pianist to practice sufficiently to make such Romantic virtuoso works truly scorching, while also inhabiting Beethoven’s world, devouring Cowell and Glass, and creating his own music? Time will tell, but in this year of remembering Leonard Bernstein, the quintessential multitasker, one should rule out nothing.

There are also many years ahead to fine-tune Mr. Nickell’s considerable gifts. Though there is no mention in his biography of his teachers at Mannes (an unusual thing, given his age), it is possible, in this current burst of career activity, that Mr. Nickell’s presenters consider that he has transcended such student matters. Hopefully such is not the case, as there is a lifetime of learning involved in maturing as a musician. Just as a single musical work can benefit from a slow burn, so can a musician’s evolution.

Among many elements in his favor, Mr. Nickell has a remarkably strong support base, and it includes prominently Barry Alexander (of the presenting Alexander and Buono Foundation), who gave the elegant spoken introductions. Mr. Nickell also had many fans in his audience, and they applauded him heartily, bringing him back to the stage for repeated bows. One looks forward to following the further development of this young artist.

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

Huizi Zhang Presents Hreizleriana in Review

Huizi Zhang, piano and toy piano

Marc A. Scorca Hall, The National Opera Center,

New York, NY

May 26, 2018

The National Opera Center was the setting this weekend for a fascinating program by excellent young pianist, Huizi Zhang (www.huizizhang.com). Five recently composed works by four young composers with whom I’m not familiar – including three premieres – preceded a performance of the deservedly familiar Kreisleriana, Op. 16, one of Robert Schumann’s great masterpieces. It was a thoroughly stimulating evening, pairing discovery with rediscovery.

The program’s title Hreizleriana, and its subtitle, “…a journey into madness and music,” made reference to two works of art, the E. T. A Hoffmann novel, Kreisleriana, about a mad genius conductor named Kreisler, and Kreisleriana, Schumann’s magnificent piano work which the Kreisler character inspired, heard as this program’s finale. Ms. Zhang’s program subtitle was fitting for a concert that would have touches of madness throughout (beyond those of the Schumann’s own mercurial qualities). As for Ms. Zhang’s spelling of Kreisleriana as Hreizleriana, one can only guess that it was a way of including her own initials – a playful touch which Schumann, cryptogram devotee, might have appreciated.

Beyond the interesting program concept, the execution is naturally always paramount, and Ms. Zhang’s playing was nearly uncriticizable. She conveyed a firm belief in each piece, honoring the composers with her thoroughness and interpreting their music with vibrancy and sensitivity. Her Schumann was exemplary, capturing all the fluctuations of Schumann’s widely contrasting moods and with rarely a glitch. With such a pillar of the standard repertoire beautifully in hand, Ms. Zhang could build many similar musical journeys “into madness” using this Schumann as the foundation and finale. Though her emotional projection was never “over the top” into the realm of madness, itself, she demonstrated expert control as the vehicle for the madness of others.

Four Movements for Solo Piano (2016) by Jacob Wilkinson (www.jwiki222.wixsite.com/jacobwilkinson) opened the program. Born in 1997, Mr. Wilkinson was the youngest of the composers presented. His four movements, entitled Prelude, Incantation, Lullaby, and Circle Dance, offered expressive and intelligently crafted writing, idiomatically written for the piano. Some of it sounded like a Scriabin-inspired improvisation (with hints of Messiaen), though the last movement, with its short, repeated dance motives, brought to mind the brilliance of Ginastera (also Villa-Lobos, a thought possibly triggered by its name, Circle Dance). Invoking names of famous composers, by the way, is not an implication that this music is derivative, but rather a shortcut in characterizing what can take too long to describe; that said, if one were to be derivative, one could do much worse than to have such composers as models! As for the Scriabin similarity, there are similarly craggy and urgent impulses felt in the middle and late work of the Russian master, sometimes attributed to encroaching madness – again fitting right in with Ms. Zhang’s theme. In sum, Mr. Wilkinson is a promising young artist, and he is fortunate to have attracted the advocacy of such a fine pianist as Ms. Zhang.

Following came Six Preludes for Piano (2013) by Colombian-born Fabian Beltran (www.fabianbeltranmusic.com). These were direct, communicative pieces showing a strong ability to capture varied emotions in fluent and vivid pianistic writing. The nocturne-like movement Grave e dolente was particularly captivating in its lyricism, and the set was rounded out with brilliant, though occasionally strident, performances of the two final movements, Vivace and Con brio. Brash major triads concluded the set rather incongruously after some of the tonal complexity which had preceded, and one could only guess that they were meant to be summarily facetious. As the comments from the pianist onstage were not quite decipherable, one missed that extra bit of guidance that might have informed the experience – one could make out from the introduction that these pieces were composed each in a single night during a period of emotional instability, but not much more. Luckily, the work stood on its own merits. It had wide dramatic range, and on a madness-and-music-themed program, it was another well-placed work. One eagerly awaits hearing more from this talented composer.

What followed was Passage 2 (2018, premiere), by Singaporean composer, Gu Wei (www.guweimusic.com). The first of two works by Mr. Wei (the second coming after intermission), it employed gentle repeated figures to create a mesmerizing quasi-minimalist effect which initially brought to mind some music that is carelessly dubbed “New Age”; it did so, however, in a manner that this listener (not a New Age fan) found quite appealing. Especially intriguing was the way isolated tones emerged from the texture of repeated figures according to shifting metric placement, forming additional layers and textures. One could visualize a warp and weft subtly forming within the music, creating additional patterns between them. As with the other pieces (except, of course, the Schumann, played from memory), Ms. Zhang handled it all capably reading from the score.

In marked contrast to Passage 2 came Mr. Wei’s other featured work, Madman’s Diary for toy piano (2018, premiere). This toy piano work is a musical setting of seven selections from an allegory entitled Madman’s Diary (1918) by Chinese writer Lu Xun. Full of nightmarish references to cannibalism, the text provided the quintessential springboard for musical madness, with the eerie childlike sounds of a toy piano evoking alternately the sneakiness, obsessiveness, indecision, stealth, and panic of Lu Xun’s world in which one must eat or be eaten. Especially effective was the use of nursery rhyme-like symmetry of phrase, which, when interrupted towards the end, expressed perfectly the text’s last line, “save the children.” Ms. Zhang delivered this frightening work superbly and is to be commended for making the tiny toy piano so expressive, especially right before taking command of the house Yamaha grand for Schumann’s Kreisleriana – a striking juxtaposition indeed!

Before all this, though, to close the first half, one heard music by Ramteen Sazegari (www.ramteensazegari.com), in particular a piece entitled 20, 30 pg. for prepared piano and electronics. Some of the prefatory remarks were a bit muffled, but, in any case, one is uncertain how the title 20,30 pg. relates to what one heard. We were told something about a reference to purgatory (the possible origin of the “pg” part?), but we were largely in the dark. This issue will be addressed later.

Meanwhile, any misgivings about hearing electronic music evoking purgatory were quickly dispelled by what turned out to be an engaging piece. There was a fascinating blend of live piano sonorities with recorded ones, and one’s imagination was taken on an interesting ride. One audience member afterwards did express an aversion to some overwhelmingly loud bass tones in the electronic part, but this reviewer would have to argue that the suggested subject matter probably called for it. It was, again, a welcome addition to the program’s overarching theme of madness. In a way one couldn’t help musing what a great catchall this theme of madness could be for works defying specific interpretation, but certainly there were more specifics at play in Ms. Zhang’s conception.

This reviewer’s chief quibble for the evening was that, especially with new music, there needs to be better extra-musical communication to an audience, both from the composer and from the performer. Puzzles and hidden meanings can be a delight with some hints, but there is something off-putting about titles and prefaces that are unhelpful or worse. Having sat for decades through literally thousands of performances of compositions given such titles as Obfuscations 87.4 and the like, this reviewer can safely say that such cryptic cleverness (if it is that) gets old fast, becoming annoying rather than fascinating. Do musicians want to bring audiences closer to their musical hearts and minds or drive them away? And would the same musicians return to a restaurant serving food that had to be located via scavenger hunt, or on tables five feet above reach? Such presentation would be considered contemptuous.

Meanwhile, Ms. Zhang, quite soft-spoken, chose to read her introductions in haste from a small paper which drew her voice downwards. If projection is an issue, then one needs to use a microphone, to speak from the heart, to slow down, or to distribute printed program notes. Granted, it may take a listener some effort and repeated hearings to delve deeply into a masterpiece, but should it take extraordinary mental leaps to grasp even the basics of compositional intent during a first hearing? This musician says no. Note to composers: create some program notes that communicate – they will not have a “spoiler” effect! You do not need to present a theoretical analysis or a treatise on the philosophy behind it – just a bit of guidance for the ear and mind. Remember also that there may be lay people present.

If the above seems to be a bit of a rant, this reviewer has simply seen too much of this problem. Musicians, perhaps because they work long hours in solitude or in academia, are too often simply oblivious to the world that will hear them, as if they don’t even care whether an audience comes. On that note, despite the originality and appeal of Ms. Zhang’s program, Saturday’s audience amounted to fewer than twenty people, including the composers themselves and this reviewer and a guest. Surely there could have been more of an effort to reach out to prospective listeners who probably could have enjoyed it.

One learned after this recital that Ms. Zhang will be performing September 29, 2018 in Weill Hall at Carnegie Hall (Carnegie Hall calendar 9/29/2018). No program is listed yet at the Carnegie website, but one hopes it will be largely the same, by then just a bit riper. It should be a rewarding evening if just two pieces of advice are followed. To Ms. Zhang and company: do more reaching out, both before the concert and during! To music-lovers, art-lovers, and thinkers everywhere: go hear Huizi Zhang in September – she is an outstanding pianist with a gift for interesting programming.

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

AADGT Presents The Passion of Music Winners in Review

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

May 13, 2018

Celebrating their 25th anniversary this year, the American Association for the Development of the Gifted and Talented (AADGT) under the direction of founder Elena Rossman has provided vital support to the early careers of some outstanding young musicians. Their most recent concert, fittingly held on Mother’s Day, suggests that their musical nurturing is still going strong.

This reviewer first wrote about AADGT in October, 2006 (when New York Concert Review was still a print periodical). One of their young winners, Aimi Kobayashi had been a mere eleven years old, and I admired her “performances that were stunning for a pianist so young.” She has since won accolades, performed, and recorded (EMI) worldwide, with a new CD/DVD release coming out just this year. Similar stories can be reported about other AADGT winners, counting recognition from competitions and organizations such as the National YoungArts Foundation in 2018 (Max Bobby, Ray Ushikubo), and the Lang Lang Foundation (Anna Larsen, Charlie Liu, Derek Wong, Jasper Heymann), leading conservatories and festivals (Juilliard, Aspen, Curtis) and feature programs such as “The World’s Most Talented Kids” (The Oprah Winfrey Show, 2009), and Arabs Got Talent (2015). Other winners of AADGT’s prize have included Yoav Levanon, Nadia Azzi, Annie Zhou, and Solene Le Van. The AADGT website (www.aadgt.org) also mentions two much more well-known names, Ilya Itin winner of Leeds 1996, and Nobuyuki Tsujii, winner of Van Cliburn, 2009 (though few details are given as to their prizes from AADGT); high praises from Lang Lang, Martha Argerich, and Evgeny Kissin, are among the testimonials.

This year’s concert, not surprisingly, differed greatly from the one I heard in 2006. First of all, this year’s program was in Weill Recital Hall, as opposed to the larger Stern Auditorium – seemingly a wise move for soloists so young. Also, in 2006 there were 6 winners presented, each in substantial sections of the program, while this year there were 32 performers (ages 5-26), some in rather short works. While it was interesting to behold such a large array of young performers (thirty pianists, two violinists), it did make for a program of nearly three hours.

In these days of “safe spaces” for the young, it was good to see the fruits of unrelenting commitment and diligence – and how brave the very young musicians were to perform at such a venue, with Carnegie Hall’s stages being not what one would call “safe” for trial and error performance! The performers were overall quite well-prepared, technically accomplished, and clearly mindful of high artistic standards. This review is not the medium for delving into the playing of every single player – which would be unfair, given the vast disparity of ages and repertoire levels, and the fact that some performers had to wait over two hours to play; that said, some highlights are in order.

The program opened with Evelyn Liu (Age 5-6 Group) playing Tchaikovsky’s Song of the Lark from Children’s Album, Op.39, No. 22, and showing remarkably crisp articulations and digital facility for one so young. She radiated delight upon finishing, and it set lovely tone for the day.

Isabel Liu (age 7-8 Group) followed with excellent renditions of two pieces by William Gillock, Sarabande and Mission Bells. The Sarabande showed an admirable sense of nuance, with lovely pianissimo shading. Mission Bells was sonorous and well-balanced against a gentler accompaniment in the right hand. Dynamics were somewhat exaggerated (approaching fortissimo where marked mezzoforte), but that is generally preferable to a lack of projection, and the playing was always communicative.

In the same age group one heard Vivian Zhang in more Gillock, now the steady rocking of Silver Bells, and Phatsacha Leowattana (Thailand) in Clementi’s Sonatina Op.36 No.1. The Sonatina was well played in all three movements, showing complete focus and maturity. Occasionally one wanted more sound in the right-hand balancing the left, but the slow movement was especially lovely with sensitivity and clarity in the melodic line.

In the age 9-10 category, we heard some surprisingly difficult repertoire, including Chopin’s Impromptu No. 1 in A-flat Op. 29, played very well by Emma Liu and the same composer’s Valse, Op.64 No.2 in the able hands of Phatthicha Leowattana (Thailand). Both players showed a high level of polish and a sense of style which will undoubtedly feel even more natural as they mature. If the two performers with the surname Leowattana are related (one can only guess, but should not assume), they have a built-in two-piano team in the offing!

We also heard in the age 9-10 category Chopin’s Nocturne in E-flat, Op. 9, No. 2, the same Nocturne that we heard in the age 7-8 category. Rather than delve into the comparative merits of the performances (though it is a challenging piece for both age groups, and both fared well), I must express my disagreement with the practice of presenting different performers playing the same piece on the same program – it is trying for audience and performers alike and really should not be necessary if there has been a wide enough selection submitted. The same duplication occurred with two pianists playing Rachmaninoff’s Polichinelle, and though both pianists were impressive for their age groups, this should be a concert and not a competition, so one will refrain from further comment.

Among other minor objections of the day was the omission by one youngster of the A-major octaves in Mozart’s Rondo alla Turca (from Mozart’s Sonata in A major K. 331) probably due to hand size. For such a distinguished venue, I felt that such a piece ought not to be subjected to such shortcuts, as there are many other pieces that could be chosen to be played exactly as written.

Among other programming complaints was the change, from one performer, to Mendelssohn’s Rondo Capriccio instead of the originally programmed work. One’s guess is that there was a Plan A vs. Plan B situation, but such things are a risky proposition. There were various technical challenges unmet, and it simply needed more time, as did several other performers’ works.

In a pleasant break from the typical fare, Gina Park played the third movement Aram Khatchaturian’s Sonatina. It is a demanding movement, with rapid and chromatic fingerwork, and Ms. Park handled its challenges with aplomb.

In the age 11-12 category, Adriel Aguilar played Haydn’s Arietta with Variations with some stylish staccatos, good repeated notes, and a fine sense of Haydn’s humor. Also in this category was Erika Suyama (Japan), playing Chopin’s Bolero, Op. 19. She projected its many moods with sensitivity and played with excellent precision through its rapid passagework, from opening to the brisk polonaise and through to the heroic ending.

Moving to the age 13-14 category, there were several highlights. Stephanie Liao was exceptional in Lowell Liebermann’s Nocturne No. 4, Op. 38, not only for sustaining the hypnotic mood of the opening, but for sustaining the momentum and power building to its thunderous climax. Exceptional as well was Jasper Heymann, playing the third movement of Mendelssohn’s Fantasia, Op. 28. He kept the piece’s character and clarity throughout the fleetest finger-work.

Joanna Wang showed impressive maturity and sensitivity in Chopin’s Nocturne in B-flat minor, Op. 9, No. 1, and Yali Levy Schwartz, showed much technical confidence in the bravura variations of the Paganini-Liszt Etude No. 6 (with just a bit more attention needed for precision in the theme itself).

Elizabeth Tsitron, one of only two violinist winners, added a different timbre in Wieniawski’s Legende and played with a good sense of its Romantic spirit and some deft technique.

Closest to being at a high professional level (in the age 16-18 category) was Kyrie McIntosh whose Prokofiev Sonata No. 3 in A minor had all the ingredients it needs for a powerhouse performance – biting chordal playing, firm grasp of its structure, tonal and emotional variety, and polish. Also excellent was the Brahms Capriccio in G minor (No. 3 from the Fantasien, Op. 116) as played by Chutikan Chaikittiwatana (in the age 18+ category) . Playing after so much demonstrative pianism, her straightforward but genuine musicality was much appreciated in this noble work.

There was so much that was good in the program that it may be best to lump the less good aspects into some brief generalizations. Overall, the awkward context of a group recital does invite the spirit of competition, so there was a tendency among many to exaggerate contrasts, to indulge in unnecessary hand gestures, and to resort to other extra-musical mannerisms – as if to say, “please notice me!” It is unfortunate to subject musicians, or the music, to this need. With just a bit more time between works (and necessarily fewer works) the performers and audience could feel the psychic space to appreciate each work on its own terms, as pieces of music, absolute and incomparable.

A benefit of the above approach might also be less of the all-too-common “on/off” switch mentality about dynamics, in which extreme louds and softs obliterate the middle ground, with crescendos not sustained and climaxes coming prematurely without depth. In any case, one ought not to think of passages as “loud” or “soft” but as the character, emotion, or concept that gave rise to those dynamics – all then starts to make more sense. Even memorization improves! Nerves are inevitable, but greater focus on the messages or meanings behind each work might have helped keep a few performances on course.

All in all, though, Sunday’s concert offered an impressive array of young musicians, including some stars of tomorrow. Congratulations are in order not just to the performers but to their mentors and families. Congratulations are of course in order to AADGT: Cheers to 25 years!

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

The Oratorio Society of New York Presents Premieres of Behzad Ranjbaran and Paul Moravec

The Oratorio Society of New York, Chorus and Orchestra; Kent Tritle, Music Director

Laquita Mitchell, soprano; Raehann Bryce-Davis, mezzo-soprano

Joshua Blue, tenor; Malcolm J. Merriweather, baritone;

Dashon Burton, bass-baritone

Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

May 7, 2018

Two knockout world premieres were offered at Carnegie Hall this week by the Oratorio Society of New York, under the masterful direction of Kent Tritle. Brand new large-scale works by Behzad Ranjbaran and Paul Moravec were introduced to the public with enormously appreciative reception, and it is a safe bet that they will become ensconced in the repertoires of whatever choruses (with orchestra) can take them on. It didn’t hurt to have five superb soloists, but the chorus and orchestra were also in fine form, handling music that was not only new but challenging in matters of ensemble and multiple languages.

Universal themes of freedom, peace, mutual understanding, and human dignity marked the evening, and the 50^th anniversary year of the assassination of Martin Luther King was honored in several ways, from the fifth and final text of Mr. Ranjbaran’s work, We Are One (the words of We Shall Overcome) to the central focus of Mr. Moravec’s work, Sanctuary Road: An Oratorio Based on the Writings of William Still, a Conductor for the Underground Railroad.

For those not steeped in contemporary music, the pairing of two such prominent composers as Mr. Ranjbaran and Mr. Moravec makes for quite an exciting concert – many presenters would be quite proud to premiere a work from just one of these composers, but this was a high-voltage evening, and the excitement in the hall was palpable.

As a bit of background, Mr. Ranjbaran (b. 1955) is a Tehran native who came to the US in 1974 and studied at Juilliard, where he obtained his doctorate in composition and is now on the faculty. He has served as composer in residence for the Philadelphia Orchestra, the Fort Worth Symphony, and other prominent orchestras, and has heard his music performed by soloists such as Joshua Bell, Renee Fleming, Yo-Yo Ma, and other outstanding performers worldwide. His music draws frequent inspiration (as his biography states) “from his cultural roots and Persian heritage.”

Mr. Moravec (b. 1957), recipient of the 2004 Pulitzer Prize in Music, as well as Rome Prize Fellowship, Guggenheim Fellowship, and numerous other distinctions, attended Harvard College and Columbia University and has taught at Columbia, Dartmouth, Hunter, and Adelphi, where he is currently University Professor. He has received frequent commissions from major musical institutions and has written over a hundred compositions, with two other major works of his having been performed by the Oratorio Society (in 2008 and 2013).

The first “half” (just over thirty minutes) was devoted to Mr. Ranjbaran’s music, We Are One. Set to texts in five different languages in its five continuous movements (Spanish, Persian, Hebrew, Arabic, and English), it was described in the notes as “an expression of our shared desire for respect, justice, freedom, and peace” drawing messages “from different cultures, religions, and time periods.” It also reiterates the word “peace” in twenty different languages, thus representing more than one hundred countries.

The work opened with a movement, Paz (Peace), set to a quotation of Benito Juárez about peace being respect for the rights of others. It was clear from its bold, defiant start that this music would speak more about the determination to reach peace than about peace itself. The music brought to mind the strong declarative phrases and sonorities of the opening of O Fortuna from Orff’s Carmina Burana, and there was a similar spirit of dark urgency running through the entire work.

Brief interludes of harp and flute led to the movement entitled Bani Âdam, on a text from Sa’di (c1210-1291) about human beings being all of one family. It started more gently but grew in anguish, closing with the admonition that, “to not feel sympathy for human suffering is to be less than human.” The closest to a mood of peace and calm came with the third movement, Shalom, sung in Hebrew. An Arabic text followed, Sal m (by Ibn Arabi, 1165-1240), centered on religious tolerance and love, and leading to the percussive blows announcing the finale, entitled We Shall Overcome (and bearing no musical resemblance to the anthem many know, except in the words). It was a powerful close to a very moving composition, and this listener, certainly among others, would like to hear it again. Mr. Ranjbaran took several well-earned bows from the stage amid a spirit of triumph.

After intermission came Paul Moravec’s Sanctuary Road, an oratorio set to a text based on the writings of Underground Railroad conductor, William Still. Chronicling the life events of some of the slaves whom Still helped rescue, these texts were adapted with extreme skill by Mark Campbell. Starting heartbreakingly with the list of slaves’ names and moving to the highly personal and varied individual stories of fear, frustration, sorrow, love, and ultimately freedom, Mr. Campbell and Mr. Moravec had crafted an extremely moving musical drama.

A colleague commented that it all felt a bit long, at just over an hour, but this reviewer cannot agree. There was the perfect combination of momentum – building to a frenzy in the heart-pounding episodes entitled “Run” – alternating with more introspective narratives, bitter recollections, and daydreams of love and freedom. The choral writing was perfectly handled to help narrate the drama as well as intensify its emotions. There was no dull moment.

The soloists were exceptional, all five. They navigated tricky recitative-like passages through wide ranges and difficult intervals, always with a sure sense of expressivity. With unfamiliar music there is always the question of whether some moments were meant to be quite as dissonant as they emerged, but there was no such question when they were anchored harmonically to the chorus and orchestra, and in the tutti sections especially, the effect was mesmerizing. Maestro Tritle was nothing short of heroic in bringing it all together.

Among stirring solo moments, Raehann Bryce-Davis, mezzo-soprano, sent chills down to one’s toes with her performance of The Same Train – Ellen Craft. She conveyed perfectly her protagonist’s dream of Philadelphia, as she coped with the fear of her master’s brother being on The Same Train. Laquita Mitchell, soprano, was especially moving in her final stratospheric utterance “I’ll dance,” as she dreamt of dancing in the rain as a free woman – another breathtaking performance.

Joshua Blue was stellar throughout with his powerful golden tone, as well as his superlative diction which penetrated even through the full choral and orchestral sections. Malcolm J. Merriweather, baritone, was also excellent, especially in his solo as Henry “Box” Brown, who escaped in a crate marked “this side up” but spent twenty-six hours upside down and tossed about. In one of the rare moments of sardonic humor, he sung with eloquence his final line “if only these fools could read.” Together this quartet created many memorable moments, with and without the chorus and orchestra; weaving it all together, though, was Dashon Burton, bass-baritone, as William Still, with a voice as steady, true, and profound as one imagines the voice of a deity to be. He was possibly the “MVP” winner of the evening.

The final movement of Sanctuary Road closed the evening with one of the most uplifting choral experiences in memory, leaving the word “free” resounding in the air for just a second before thunderous applause burst forth. It was one of those very powerful concert experiences which no one present will be apt to forget. Mr. Moravec and Mr. Campbell took well-earned bows, along with all the other valiant musicians who made it all possible.

Bravi tutti!

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