Violinist Daniel Röhn in Review

Violinist Daniel Röhn in Review

Daniel Röhn in Recital: The Kreisler Story
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, N.Y.
February 2, 2016

 

 

It is a rare recital that leaves one wanting to hear it all again the next day, but it is not an exaggeration to say that I wanted exactly that after hearing the recent New York recital of German violinist Daniel Röhn. In collaboration with pianist Rohan de Silva and in birthday tribute to the great Austrian composer-violinist Fritz Kreisler, Mr. Röhn combined technical wizardry, melting musicality, old-world style and panache, and a fair amount of historic edification in his comments, all woven seamlessly together into an utterly perfect evening.

Lest it appear that I have some bias towards this frothy fare, that is not the case, for many of these works I’ve heard quite often (or played as collaborator) without their holding nearly so much attraction; what was so captivating was Daniel Röhn’s easy and elegant mastery, always with beauty of sound, purity of intonation, and elasticity of phrase. It was a wonder to behold and reaffirmed the grandeur of the “Golden Age of the Violin” of the 1920’s and 1930’s.

Daniel Röhnm accompanied by pianist Rohan De Silva at Weill Recital Hall, 2/2/16. Photo by Chris Lee

Daniel Röhnm accompanied by pianist Rohan De Silva at Weill Recital Hall, 2/2/16. Photo by Chris Lee

 

Boldly and with a regal pacing Mr. Röhn opened with Kreisler’s oft-played Praeludium and Allegro, an assertive beginning. He followed it with the equally beloved Bach-Kreisler Gavotte from the E Major Partita BWV 1006, played with polish and sensitivity. Some offhand remarks put an awestruck audience at ease to enjoy the lyrical Paganini-Kreisler Caprice No. 20.

Many performers conquer these tricky works, but the labor announces itself – not so with Mr. Röhn, whose technical ease affords him a graciousness and charm so vital to this repertoire. His fluency suggest that music is his first language, and that may have been the case, for as his biographical notes tell us, he is son and grandson to two noted concertmasters. One finds, with a bit of poking around, that his grandfather, Erich Röhn, played with the Berlin Philharmonic under Fürtwangler, and his father, Andreas Röhn, with the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra. One also learns that his musical pedigree is distinguished on his pianist mother’s side, but perhaps that didn’t make as marketable a tale as the lineage of three dashing dons of the violin – and dashing this grandson is, with the tie, tails, and stage presence of a matinee idol. One expected him to dance off the stage like Astaire, which he pretty nearly did at the end of the first half, while concluding Sarasate’s Zapateado Op. 23, No. 2 (which he had likened to a Spanish relative of Riverdance – so make that Flatley, rather than Astaire).

Before this exuberant first finale came several other works. Claude Debussy’s Sonata for Violin and Piano added some heft to the program (despite its brevity). Mr. Röhn spoke eloquently about its wartime history and also the imagery one can sense in the work, though leaving such reactions open to the listeners’ imaginations. He shared as examples that “in rehearsal today we found hobbling dwarfs” and at another point vampires – inviting the uninitiated listener to dream through the piece’s darker moments. His playing matched his words in color and drama. If every performer communicated as well, as part virtuoso and part inspired educator, more concert halls would be packed – and his certainly was.

Following Debussy was the Prokofiev-Heifetz March from The Love of Three Oranges – a glimpse into the world of another titan of the violin, Jascha Heifetz. Incidentally, Heifetz’s birthday was also February 2 along with Kreisler’s, something parents of children born on this day might contemplate when choosing an instrument! The playing was once again riveting.

William Kroll’s popular Banjo and Fiddle and Josef Suk’s sentimental Song of Love Op. 7, No. 1, rounded out the smorgasbord before the show-stopping Zapateado. Throughout the program Rohan de Silva was a superb collaborator. Understandably sought after by many of the greatest violinists in the world today, Mr. de Silva plays with the kind of flexible support and hair-trigger responsiveness that it seems no cues are needed beyond sheer musical telepathy.

More works associated with Kreisler followed in the second half, including Jean-Marie Leclair’s Sonata No. 3 in D Major. Here was the only work that seemed to show a bit of flagging in energy, but the impression was short-lived. The ridiculously demanding Wieniawski-Kreisler Caprices in A Minor and E-flat Major followed with perfect brilliance. Equally engaging was the commentary describing the overtaxed students of Wieniawski, the great Polish violin master, as he piled challenge on top of challenge.

The Hungarian Dance No. 7 by Johannes Brahms added further to the playfulness, setting the scene for some humorous introductory remarks about Kreisler’s own mischievous streak. He had for several decades passed his own compositions off as penned by other composers (often 17th or 18th century ones), as it was not seemly for a performer to play an entire evening of his own works. Kreisler was in fact quite creative about it and his harmless trickery makes for fun retelling. Two of such falsely attributed works, the Tempo di Minuetto and Grave in the style of W. F. Bach, were played next, but emerged as such gems that one could almost approve of the hoax that enabled the composer to share them.

To cap off the evening was another rousing dance from Spain, Kreisler’s version of Manuel De Falla’s Danza espagnola from La vida breve. It was a dazzling finale, sending audience members to their feet. They were treated, after several curtain calls, to an encore of the very delicate “Zephyr” Op. 30, No. 5, by Jenő Hubay. Just as I was wondering how one follows an evening of so many “encores” with an encore, Mr. Röhn expressed basically the same sentiment from the stage. Meanwhile my wish for an encore of the whole evening promises to be fulfilled, as a recording of it all will be released in the summer of 2016 (unsure as to whether that is CD or DVD – hopefully the latter). Hopes are high!

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by Rorianne Schrade  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Pianist Ian Hobson in Review

Pianist Ian Hobson in Review

Downtown/Uptown Series: Preludes –Etudes –Variations, Ian Hobson in Recital
With spoken introduction by Paul Griffiths
Merkin Concert Hall, Kaufmann Arts Center; New York, NY
January 19, 2016

 

A good musician tries not to be too dazzled by encyclopedic repertoires – after all, it is how music is played that matters – but this listener has to confess to being dumbstruck by the sheer quantity of challenges in Ian Hobson’s latest 6-recital series in New York. From last October through this coming April, within a mere six months, he will have performed both books of Debussy’s Preludes plus complete Etudes, both books of Chopin Etudes plus complete Preludes, Rachmaninoff’s complete Preludes and complete Etudes (are you dizzy yet?), plus major sets of variations by Chopin, Rachmaninoff, Schumann, Szymanowski and Fauré, and three world premieres by contemporary composers (Stephen Taylor, Robert Chumbley, and Yehudi Wyner). I’m sure I’m omitting something. What is more, the concerts all come on the heels of an enormous 2013-14 series, a 14-recital traversal of the complete solo and chamber music of Brahms. To have prepared such a large quantity of difficult repertoire in one’s career may not be unusual today, but to have it all performable on a high level in such short succession boggles the mind – and all is somehow managed on top of Mr. Hobson’s professorships and conducting appearances. One wonders what vitamins Mr. Hobson might be taking, and how one can get some immediately!

Of course, those who have followed Mr. Hobson’s career may already be aware of his penchant for pianistic feats. Since winning the First Prize at the Leeds International Piano Competition in 1981, plus several important silver medals, Mr. Hobson has amassed a discography of over 60 releases, including the complete piano sonatas of Beethoven and Schumann, plus a complete edition of Brahms variations for piano. He is currently recording a complete edition of Chopin, of which Volume 9 has already received critical praise for “noble artistry” (Gramophone, July 2012).

Having been somewhat familiar with Mr. Hobson’s playing since my student days (when his recordings were some of the “reference” releases available in libraries), I can say that his playing has always struck me as technically strong, musically sound, reasonably grounded in scholarly study, and without any distracting eccentricities. It was therefore good to learn all these years later that he is still going strong, extremely strong!

His program selection was beautiful for this recital, pairing, as its pillars, Chopin’s Twenty-four Preludes, Op. 28, with the Rachmaninoff Variations on a Theme of Chopin, Op. 22. It is a natural pairing (in fact so natural that, for the sake of full disclosure, this reviewer performed and recorded that very pairing some nine years ago). Mr. Hobson additionally included Chopin’s Prelude in A-flat and Prelude in C-sharp minor Op. 45 (two welcome rarities in concert), plus a premiere of “Three Etudes (by any other name…)” by Robert Chumbley (b. 1954). The cohesiveness of the program was ideal, and the Chumbley work added an interesting modern-day perspective on the genre (if one can call it that) of the concert etude. Incidentally, the introductory speaker, Paul Griffiths, was eloquent and informative describing the history and characteristics of Etudes, Preludes and Variations, and it was the kind of evening perfectly designed to welcome the layperson into the realm of some of the greatest piano music ever composed.

Mr. Hobson’s performances themselves were taut and muscular, seemingly geared towards sustaining momentum and projecting with a very full sound, more often than drawing the listener in with intimacy or nuance. There was not a trace of self-indulgence to the performances – some would say a good thing – but I actually tend to like it when a performer “loses himself” in these miniatures. Though the momentum was an asset in the D-flat Prelude, which drags with many pianists, I longed for more poignant dreaming in the F-sharp major one, and perhaps more subtle piano shadings (as one also wanted in the G major). Some more details could have emerged in the storms of the F-sharp minor and B-flat minor ones as well.

It is possible that concert cycles may put pressure on a performer to keep things moving for the sake of uninitiated listeners. My neighbor in the audience began the evening by saying, “I hope these Chopin Preludes are short, because there sure are a lot of them.” One hopes that a performer will rarely need to think this way, but, as Mr. Griffiths mentioned, even Rachmaninoff had a penchant for omitting variations when the audience coughed too restlessly. I still maintain that when a performer surrenders to his artistic imagination, a listener generally can be trusted to follow suit, flu season notwithstanding. Much of Mr. Hobson’s playing was superb, as expected, but one hopes that his profusion of offerings this season will not diminish his savoring of each one.

There were high points, of course. Mr. Hobson seemed especially to relish the grace of the A major Prelude and the delicate (though treacherous) E-flat one. He sank deeply into the A-flat basses towards the end of the 17th Prelude, partly helped by the hall piano’s exceptional resonance, felt down to one’s toes. He engaged intensely in the drama of the Preludes in E-flat minor, F minor, and G minor, and the final Prelude in D minor was a wonderfully brilliant finale. The coruscating scales and thirds proved that Mr. Hobson is still very much a powerhouse.

The Rachmaninoff fared similarly well overall, but again flew by to the point where one missed some of its characteristic poetry and dreaming. Some opportunities for gentle lyricism were missed (and some messiness arose intermittently), though ultimately the work’s majesty did prevail. A large, appreciative audience was treated to an absolutely beautiful encore of the Kreisler-Rachmaninoff Liebesleid, played with winning charm and rubato worthy of the pianistic Golden Age. One eagerly awaits the next concert!

 

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by Rorianne Schrade  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Book Review: The Piano Teaching Legacy of Solomon Mikowsky By Kookhee Hong

Book Review: The Piano Teaching Legacy of Solomon Mikowsky By Kookhee Hong

The Piano Teaching Legacy of Solomon Mikowsky
Kookhee Hong
LAP, Lambert Academic Publishing
209 pp. (with photos and appendices)
ISBN: 978-3659804656
New York, NY, 2013

 

Breaking from the tradition of New York Concert Review as a publication chiefly about concerts and recordings, this book review is justified based on its subject, noted musical pedagogue, Solomon Mikowsky, whose musical legacy dwells in the concert halls and music schools of New York and throughout the world. As “one of the world’s most sought-after artist teachers” (Clavier), whose students have racked up over 150 international competition wins, he has been a vital if often behind-the-scenes figure in the world of concert life today.

Among Mr. Mikowsky’s students have been some highly celebrated pianists of the day, including Simone Dinnerstein, Kirill Gerstein, and others. Many are on piano faculties throughout the world, guiding the next generation of musical leaders, performing, serving on juries, and yes, still competing and performing in contests themselves. Lest the reader be misled by the word “legacy” in the book’s title, let there be no doubt that Dr. Mikowsky is still going strong after many decades of teaching, notably at the Manhattan School of Music since 1969.

What’s more than all of the credentials and success he has achieved – though going hand in hand with it – is his successful personal mission to share music, more a way of life than a profession. It is that personal mission that makes Dr Mikowsky’s career worthy of a book, rather than just a list of prizes in some compendium. His students, present and past, speak of him as a beloved friend, who has helped them artistically, personally, and even financially. They have traveled to new places because of him, tried unknown exotic repertoire because of him, sampled new foods, read new books, and met new people because of him. Together they are helping to keep the love and celebration of piano music alive. Anyone who was captivated by the 2015 film about music teacher, Seymour Bernstein (Seymour: An Introduction), should enjoy Ms. Hong’s book in a similar way, but with new dimensions: enter Solomon.

At this point, it may sound as if Ms. Hong, a former student of Dr. Mikowsky, has written a promotional puff piece, but rest assured that the book goes much deeper than that. Though one or two moments in the interview-format book may resemble the so-called “humble-brag” as various triumphs are recounted (how can they not with his string of achievements?), there is always rigorous self-assessment with Dr. Mikowsky, from the half-joking wish to refund money to students at some earlier points in his career to his comments about how much he is still always learning.

There is also much more to the book than a recollection and analysis of his teaching – beyond the ample discussion of fingering approaches, editions, and other specialized issues. Dr. Mikowsky’s life has been one of serious ups and downs, all which have made him the remarkable man that he is. The reader will find references to his Russian-Polish-Jewish roots, an engrossing account of his parents’ immigrant experience, colorful descriptions of his early days in Havana and a family jewelry business, and his musical beginnings. There are some humorous personal anecdotes, but also chilling references to his extended family’s peril at Auschwitz. There are tales of financial and personal struggle – including a physical injury preventing him from performing – but also tales of addictive Cuban croquettes. One is reminded in some ways of the much longer memoirs of another gourmand, pianist Arthur Rubinstein, as Dr. Mikowsky has a similar zest for living (without Rubinstein’s much-touted dalliances). One can only envy his current class of students. Young musicians will find in this book the constant reminder that not only must life be filled with music, but music must be filled with life.

Among the valuable cautionary tales, Dr. Mikowsky recounts various tests of character and diplomacy, such as politically constrained competitions and his dilemmas when colleagues’ students have wished to study with him. He also tells of one of his students asking to study with a different teacher, a technique specialist of dubious grounding – guessable by those in the know, but mercifully unnamed. Though there is some name-dropping, names are generally only mentioned when historically significant or of personal importance to him, such as his teachers Sentenat and Gorodnitzki.

From political obstacles to personal sacrifice, from student years in one’s homeland to scholarships in the US at Juilliard, doctoral studies at Columbia University and years of teaching, Dr. Mikowsky shares a wealth of experience – even how he became involved in a lucrative real estate investment out of his involvement in an apartment originally for the benefit of a student. Such serendipitous situations, plus much hard work have enabled him to gift performance halls and pianos to the Manhattan School of Music, the Chicago College of Performing Arts, and the City of Havana – all in addition to spearheading several festivals. It is not every piano teacher who maintains such philanthropic endeavors on the side. There are lessons to be learned from his life story as much as from the valuable section on pedagogy.

The book is a quick read at 148 pages, plus 50-plus more in appendices, and flows like a fireside chat. Ms. Hong is to be commended for achieving this effect naturally, without intrusive editorializing or ego. Part I centers on the biography of Dr. Mikowsky and Part II, on his pedagogical beliefs and experiences, with some interesting specific examples. Part III is a very generous string of appendices about pianists and teachers, plus student testimonials and lists of laureates. Those readers not interested in piano teaching may not be inclined to read Part II on pedagogy (just over half of its 148-page main text), though it seems that any lover of piano music could benefit from it all.

On a critical note, there is room for some further editing of this book (perhaps before its next printing), as some corrections are needed. Most seem not to be the fault of the author but of other contributors, but at least “sic” would be welcome occasionally, as the spelling of “Juilliard” appears “Julliard” and “book” becomes an unfortunate palindrome, which I’ll omit here. I’m sure, when a students states, “Another day goes by without me using something that you thought me…” that it was meant as, “Not a day goes by without my using something you taught me” but such errors such as these are easy to fix. The spelling of “Solomon” should be consistent, as “Salomon” in the photograph section was surprising.

Minor quibbles aside, I feel this book is a valuable addition to any music library. Dr. Mikowsky is a gift to the music world, and thankfully part of that gift is now knowable in prose form.

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by Rorianne Schrade  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Larry Weng in Review

Larry Weng in Review

The Stecher and Horowitz Foundation Presents New York International Piano Competition Laureate Pianist Larry Weng in Recital
SubCulture, New York, NY
November 19, 2015

Rainy November evenings may not be ideal for New York concertgoers, but when the concert includes several works by one of the leading composers in the U.S. (along with related mainstays of the repertoire) and is played by exceptional young pianist Larry Weng – and at a casual downtown venue with refreshments – the picture can change rapidly. I had a hunch that I might be rewarded for wading through endless puddles.

For starters, the program included piano works by U.S. composer Lowell Liebermann (b. 1961), a tantalizing prospect. Mr. Liebermann’s works are beautifully idiomatic for the instrument, as the composer himself is a pianist steeped in the keyboard tradition; in addition, Mr. Liebermann is so prolific that, despite his presence on many programs, one always has the sense of barely scratching the surface of his output. To see two substantial works of his on one program is not too frequent, but we had that chance here with Mr. Liebermann’s Three Impromptus, Op. 68 (2000), and his Four Etudes on Songs of Johannes Brahms, Op. 88 (2004) framing Intermission. Bookending these were the opening works, Four Impromptus, Op. 90 of Schubert and the Symphonic Etudes, Op. 13 of Schumann to close – a beautifully balanced combination of the familiar and the new, and with interesting connections among them.

Larry Weng is a musician whom I’d had the pleasure of reviewing previously with particular praise for his Schubert (Aldo Parisot presents Larry Weng in review). On this occasion, his Schubert Impromptus were as thoughtful and well wrought as anyone who heard his NY Debut would expect. Here, his interpretations seemed more orchestral than vocal in conception (complete with some left hand “conducting” during right hand solo lines). His playing illustrated well his own comment from the stage about Schubert’s accompaniments, coloring the same melodic tones differently on different iterations, with different ambiance. Each of the four pieces enjoyed a balance between local color and broad overview, showing polish and sensitivity. The fourth, though, must be singled out for a leggiero touch that went beyond lightness, not feathers but nanofibers – a treat to hear!

The Liebermann Impromptus that followed were introduced by Mr. Weng as possessing certain similarities to Schubert’s. It was ingenious programming by the artist, to engage the audience in such comparative listening – even if the title “Impromptu” leaves things wide open to enable “apples and oranges” comparisons. The Liebermann pieces are naturally quite different (as one would hope, given nearly two centuries’ time difference), exploiting the keyboard’s full range in register, tonality, and dynamics, with much virtuoso writing. Mr. Weng gave them highly compelling performances.

As for Schubertian parallels, more than any similarity to Schubert’s Impromptus, one was struck by an extended, transformed reference to Schubert’s Moment Musical No. 2 in A-flat Major at the beginning of the first Liebermann Impromptu (or so it seemed, without the aid of any Program Notes). From this Schubertian kernel, the music took off into great pianistic flights of imagination. Mr. Weng played it brilliantly, as he did all three. He left the audience in a stunned state at the set’s haunting ending.

After Intermission, we heard Mr. Liebermann’s Four Etudes on Songs of Johannes Brahms, Op.88 (2004), songs of great romance and longing. These seemed really more Brahms than Liebermann, but in either case were welcome, especially in such a soirée-type milieu (and as preludes to Schumann). The Brahms originals are stunningly beautiful, with texts of longing, loss, love, harps and violets, including “Muss es eine Trennung geben” (Op. 33, No. 12), “Es tönt ein voller Harfenklang” (Op. 17, No. 1), “An Ein Vielchen” (Op. 49, No. 2), and “Eine gute, gute Nacht” (Op. 59, No. 6). Anyone who has tried to transfer lieder from voice to solo piano knows what art is required, but Mr. Liebermann’s distribution of these melodies and accompaniments flying across registers appeared to be quite a challenge, more than justifying the title “Etudes.” Much of the originals’ beauty came across in Mr. Weng’s able hands.

Schumann’s Symphonic Etudes, Op. 13, capped off the evening with bravura, despite some glitches. Many pianists go a bit adrift in the Finale, but some messiness elsewhere could perhaps be chalked up to some excessive speed – or possibly a bit of fatigue from the many demands of the rest of the program. In any case, Mr. Weng is a pianist from whom one expects the best, and there were some great moments, particularly the “duet” right before the Finale. The closing spirit was robust, and a cheering audience elicited an encore of the Bagatelle No. 5 in G Major from one of the most moving sets by Beethoven, his Op. 126.

Big congratulations go to Larry Weng and to the Stecher and Horowitz Foundation for this memorable evening.

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by Rorianne Schrade  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Scott Watkins, Pianist in Review

Scott Watkins, Pianist in Review

Scott Watkins, Piano
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
October 10, 2015

 

American pianist Scott Watkins performed music of Bartók, Hanson, and Debussy last weekend, in a program that was well suited to his particular pianistic and musical gifts. A keen intellect was immediately apparent in his opener, the Piano Sonata Sz. 80 (1926) by Béla Bartók (1881-1945), which drew upon his laser-like focus, faultless memory, and considerable analytic grasp. It was bold and bracing in its relentless rhythms without ever devolving into the earsplitting harshness that one so often hears in this piece. Though many advocate unleashing the beast in this work (a product of the “barbaric” period of the composer’s life), pacing and control are still important – and one can appreciate so much more of the composition if one is not covering one’s ears! Thankfully, Mr. Watkins showed judicious control and steadiness, but with plenty of stamina. For this listener, a fan of Murray Perahia’s recording of the work, it might have benefited from even more imaginative orchestral color, but it was certainly outstanding.

 

The rest of the first half consisted of a remarkable discovery (or rediscovery), the Piano Sonata in A Minor, Op. 11 (1918), by the prominent American composer Howard Hanson (1896-1981) in its first New York City performance. According to Hanson’s own notes, the Sonata was first performed in 1919. Unpublished for nearly a century, the work enjoyed some attention in a different incarnation around the year 2000, when pianist Thomas Labé made his own lushly Romantic completion of the piece from an unfinished manuscript and recorded it for Naxos; timing was not on Mr. Labé’s side, however, because after all that work, another manuscript surfaced, this one complete, and the Eastman School of Music acquired it in 2007. It is this second discovery, the original, which Mr. Watkins performs and has also recorded. Though it is impossible to “unhear” Mr. Labé, who channeled the composer’s style well, one naturally wants to experience Hanson’s actual composition, and Mr. Watkins makes that possible, with excellent attention to detail and respect for the score. This listener sometimes longed for more of a sense of emotional involvement, as the piece has a highly personal expressiveness about it, reminiscent of MacDowell or Grieg; on the other hand, it is not easy to make a heart-on-sleeve approach convincing in such a youthful work without it degenerating into schlock. Some musicians like to downplay the excess while others embrace it, and Mr. Watkins chose the more restrained approach, with the fidelity of a music historian.

Mr. Watkins is currently Associate Professor of Piano at Jacksonville University, and since 2011 he has held the position of Visiting Foreign Scholar at Beifang University’s Conservatory of Music and Dance in Yin Chuan, China. Along with an active career including collaborations with prominent musicians such as violinists Eugene Fodor and Hillary Hahn, he holds a doctorate from Florida State University and clearly has a scholarly bent. It was therefore not so surprising that his playing emphasized the more cerebral qualities in each work.

Debussy’s Préludes Book II were a good match for Mr. Watkins’ gifts. Despite the tendency of many pianists to use the excuse of “impressionism” to run wild and drown some of these twelve pieces in pedal, we know that Debussy was against such abuse, and Mr. Watkins gets it right. He plays with the requisite clarity, but with great sweeps and washes of sound when required. These were excellent performances.

There was delicacy in Bruyères and a haunting quality in Feuilles mortes. Mr. Watkins is an undemonstrative player, but the music spoke for itself. A “straight man” approach in fact enhanced the fun of “Général Lavine” – eccentric and Hommage à S. Pickwick Esq., P. P. M. P. C., as one might expect.

Les tierces alternées (No. 11) was also a highlight. Mr. Watkins was extremely impressive in his handling of its exposed technical challenges. While it is not this listener’s favorite Prélude, it took a prize for sheer digital prowess. Only Les fées sont d’exquises danseuses disappointed a bit, sounding a tad heavy for fairies, but allowances must be made for a bright piano. Feux d’artifice (No. 12) was a brilliant close, played with vivid imagination and fire. All in all, it was a highly praiseworthy concert – a fulfilling musical evening.

 

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by Rorianne Schrade  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
The Fourth Rosalyn Tureck International Bach Competition for Young Pianists Presents Gala Winners Concert in Review

The Fourth Rosalyn Tureck International Bach Competition for Young Pianists Presents Gala Winners Concert in Review

Gala Winners Concert, The Fourth Rosalyn Tureck International Bach Competition for Young Pianists
Bruno Walter Auditorium, Lincoln Center, N.Y.
October 18, 2015

 

It is hard to believe, hearing the winners of the Fourth Rosalyn Tureck International Bach Competition for Young Pianists, that it was just 2003 when it was all conceived to honor the celebrated Bach interpreter Rosalyn Tureck just prior to her death. Founded by Golda Vainberg-Tatz in honor of her mentor (and with Ms. Tureck’s blessing), each competition is an enormous undertaking, drawing an international jury and attracting outstanding international participants, ages 7-20. The repertoire, wide-ranging and demanding, makes for great listening, and this year it all took place (with the exception of screening DVDs) in the high visibility venue of the Bruno Walter auditorium, with the co-sponsorship of the New York Public Library for the Performing Arts. I’ve had the pleasure to observe this competition’s Winners Concerts several times, and each time has been of a higher level than the last.

The Jury Members were Emanuel Krasovsky (Chairman), Sara Davis Buechner, Michael Charry, Mirian Conti, Sharon Isbin, Zhou Keng, Jose Ramos Santana, Matti Reakallio, André-Michel Schub, and Founder-Director, Golda Vainberg-Tatz.

The contestants ranged from the promising young Megan Xie, age 8, playing Bach’s Little Prelude and Fugue in G Major (BWV 902) with polish and surprising assuredness for one so young, to Kai Ono, age 19, playing Bach’s Chromatic Fantasy and Fugue (BWV 903), in a style reflecting his varied experience with composition and jazz. The other offerings included more Bach categories (all kinds of Suites, Preludes, Fugues, Toccatas and more), contemporary music (another specialty of Ms. Tureck), and the first honorees ever in the challenging category VIII, none other than the Goldberg Variations! Adrian Fan, age 15, and Angela Xue, age 16, were both recognized in this category, though Ms. Xue performed Sofia Gubaidulina’s Chaconne for the winners’ concert, and quite powerfully.

After the opening of Megan Xie, we heard Anthony Reznikovsky, age 12, in Bach’s Duet No.2 (BWV 803). It was crisp and clear, with beautiful control of the tricky contrapuntal writing.

The gap between ages 12 and 14 is sometimes night and day, and Alexander Tsereteli showed us a glimpse of the developed artist he is headed to be. His Preludes Op.53, Nos.17 and 18 of Nikolai Kapustin were excellent, with a precocious grasp of their jazz-inspired idiom.

Back to Bach, one heard Connor Sung, age 10, in movements from the French Suite in E major (BWV 817). His marked articulations in the Allemande were staccato on each sixteenth, bringing out a perpetual motion quality that many Bach players choose for its connection to the harpsichord style. The intervening Sarabande was a pleasant change in texture, and creatively done. What this listener appreciated most, though, were the declamatory agogic accents in the Gigue, giving this dance movement a sense of gusto.

With a more sedate approach to the keyboard, Benjamin Wolfson, age 9, found beauty in two movements from Bach’s French Suite in C minor (BWV 813), namely the Allemande and the Gigue. Not only was his lyrical approach to the phrases refreshing and unforced, but he gets kudos for performing a Gigue that is one of the thorniest, least child-friendly of the lot.

Next up, Angela Lee, age 11, fairly knocked everyone’s socks off with her Nocturne, No. 4, Op. 38, by Lowell Liebermann. She demonstrated the sensitivity, maturity, power, and pianism that one often misses in pianists twice her age. It is not a huge surprise that, in addition to winning in Category V (Various Works), she also received the Evgeny Kissin Grand Prize.

Enjoying the surfeit of riches, we heard still more Bach, the Toccata in E minor (BWV 914), played by promising young artist Keiju Takehara, age 17, plus the Prelude and Fugue in C sharp minor (Book I, BWV 816), played with complete command by Vladislav Kern, age 16.

Non-Bach offerings included “China Dream” by Zhang Zhao, in the rendition of Xu Yue, age 16, plus (as mentioned before) Gubaidulina’s Chaconne, played by Angela Xue. The latter, showing much of Bach’s influence was an especially good twentieth century choice for this Bachian event.

To close the program, the audience heard a sampling from the Goldberg Variations (BWV 988), as played by Adrian Fan. In addition to (of course) the theme, we heard a wonderfully lively Variation 1, a good Variation 6, and a very precise and well-articulated Variation 7. There was a particularly well-controlled performance of the often scrambled Variation 14, a thoughtful and sensitive Variation 21, plus the subsequent one, and to cap it off, the brilliant Variation 29. One may have reservations about the integrity of excerpting such a piece, but if more and more contestants start performing such a work in its entirety, the Tureck Competition will need to book a venue for months and raise a lot more funds!

All in all, it was an inspiring event. Congratulations to all the young participants whose playing was not only life-affirming, but a reminder never to underestimate human beings based on how long they have lived on the planet! They bring hope for the future. Congratulations go to the directors of the competition for bringing it all to fruition.

 

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by Rorianne Schrade  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
“Leonard Bernstein Remembered” in Review

“Leonard Bernstein Remembered” in Review

“Leonard Bernstein Remembered” in Review
Lloyd Arriola, Pianist and Musical Director
Christ and St. Stephen’s Church, New York, NY
October 14, 2015

 

Nearly four years after reviewing pianist Lloyd Arriola in an excellent New York debut recital (marking the 200th anniversary of Liszt’s birth: Lloyd Arriola-pianist-in-review), it is a pleasure to review him again, now in the rather different role of musical director for an ambitious tribute to Leonard Bernstein. On this 25th anniversary – to the day – of Bernstein’s death, Mr. Arriola served as producer, collaborative pianist, and occasional vocal complement to twenty accomplished singers in selections from Bernstein’s operettas, musicals, and other vocal works. It was apparent what a labor of love and expense it must have been for him to coordinate and rehearse so many singers from near and far. He spoke briefly of being a student at Peabody Institute when the news of Bernstein’s death broke, of the shock, and of the 25 years since then, culminating in this concert.

The evening began with a procession of nearly twenty singers to the front of the church, a formidable array one assumed to be the complete personnel until statuesque contralto Nicole J. Mitchell made her dramatic entry from the back, singing Bernstein’s “Somewhere” from West Side Story as she walked. It was one of the most haunting renditions I’ve heard, and I’ve heard many. An emotional tone was set for the evening.

“A Simple Song” from Bernstein’s Mass followed, sung with beautiful clarity by baritone, Sam Fujii. There was a good alternation of solo, duo, and ensemble textures throughout the evening, and “Readings” (from the funeral scene of the opera A Quiet Place) came next, enlisting the forces of seven of the evening’s stars. It is difficult to pull such a scene out of the context of the musical in a way the audience can fully understand, because, even though in English, the lyrics intertwine among voices; that said, one appreciated the exceptionally clear diction by tenors, Marcos D. Vigil and Lawrence Rush. The performance prompted one to explore this whole work more deeply.

From the funereal to the lighthearted, the evening progressed to “Carried Away” from On the Town, sung by Erika Person Werner and Eric Werner – not surprisingly a duo with a strong and appealing rapport. They projected its giddy subject matter with flair. On a similarly comical note (and also from On the Town) came “Carnegie Hall Pavane” a jazzy sendup of singing lessons. Mezzo-soprano Christine Thomas and soprano Barbara Porto brought out the campy fun. Of course On the Town has its melancholy numbers too, and “Some Other Time” is one. Ms. Thomas joined a quartet with Alison Davy, David Bell, and Lawrence Rush, in a moving performance. The musical sighs of “oh, well” conveyed the song’s sense of resignation with special poignancy.

“A Little Bit in Love” from Wonderful Town, featured Ms. Davy again in a strictly solo capacity. She was thorough and convincing, sensitive to both theatrical elements and phrasing. She teamed up with Ms. Thomas afterwards in a winsome rendition of the clever number “Ohio” (“Why, oh why, Ohio?” – also from Wonderful Town).

No Bernstein tribute would be complete without selections from Candide, and indeed we had two. The first was “Glitter and Be Gay”, a coloratura showstopper requiring a singer to be Queen of the Night and a Rockette all rolled up into one. Soprano Kinneret Ely was both, giving a high-energy performance. “We are Women” followed with more comedy, teaming up Jessica Fishenfeld with Ms. Thomas, who had already had quite a busy night but was showing no signs of flagging. Their mincing gestures to the lyrics about “little, little women” were hilarious.

Returning to music from West Side Story, we heard the touching “One Hand, One Heart” sung movingly by the duo of Amy Palomo and Marcos D. Vigil. It was followed by “Tonight” in a rousing quintet version. Bernstein’s range was especially striking throughout this program, but then again, that range typified everything about the late maestro’s musical life.

After intermission, we heard the only piano solo of the evening, the 3rd of Bernstein’s Four Anniversaries, played with tender expressiveness by Mr. Arriola. He accompanied beautifully throughout the evening, but it was good to hear him in solo performance. Dedicated to Stephen Sondheim, the piece served as a prelude to the evening’s only non-Bernstein song, Sondheim’s “I Remember” – sung with heartrending nostalgia by special guest, Rosemary George.

The brooding continued with “Lonely Town” (from On the Town), sung with a powerful sense of desolation by baritone Gustavo Morales, and “Morning – Good Morning” (from A Quiet Place), given an eerie otherworldly quality by soprano Joyce Yin. Two songs from Peter Pan were equally ethereal, including “Dream With Me” sung by outstanding countertenor Daniel Gundlach and “Build My House” given a fine performance by soprano Lotte Crayton.

“Duet for One – First Lady of the Land” (from 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue), is just the challenge that the title suggests – one singer, in this case Lindsay Blackhurst, handling two roles alternately in one song. It was well done, though perhaps some exaggeration of the different inflections or accents could have helped even more than the comic prop of a liquor flask. The alternations can be a bit hard to follow if one blinks, unless one is completely immersed in this musical (and few are, as it was famously a flop on Broadway). Two ensemble works followed, “Nachspiel” from Arias and Barcarolles, and “To Make Us Proud” (from 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue) with Lawrence Rush as Theodore Roosevelt. They capped off a highly successful program with spirit.

All in all, this concert broadened one’s understanding of the late Leonard Bernstein greatly, while naturally leaving room for much more. As Mr. Arriola stated in his emotional conclusion, the 100th Anniversary of Mr. Bernstein’s birth is approaching in 2018, and plans for more are afoot. Mr. Arriola has a track record of surpassing himself, so one looks forward to the next venture.

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by Rorianne Schrade  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
HH Promotions London, LLC presents Carlo Grante, Pianist in Review

HH Promotions London, LLC presents Carlo Grante, Pianist in Review

HH Promotions London LLC presents Carlo Grante, Piano
Alice Tully Hall, Lincoln Center New York, NY
September 15, 2015

It’s a World Premiere! With the same exhilaration that one feels in exclaiming “it’s a boy!” or “it’s a girl!” the world welcomes a new piano work, Chopin Dreams (2014), composed by Bruce Adolphe (b.1955) and given a masterful first performance this week by Italian pianist Carlo Grante. Commissioned by The Concert Artists’ Promotion Trust for Mr. Grante, the work is brimming with all the poetry and virtuosity one would hope for in a work inspired by the great Frédéric Chopin, but its tonal language is deliciously modern. As Mr. Adolphe writes, “To compose this work, I imagined Chopin alive today, living in New York, perhaps making some money at a jazz club rather than teaching so many students.”

Made up of six pieces, the work lasts around 24 minutes. The first of the set is New York Nocturne, a sensitive meditation through a melancholy jazz haze, as if Chopin’s sensibilities had been transported to a dusky New York scene. Mr. Grante captured the music’s improvisatory magic with exquisite colors and nuanced pianism.

The second piece of the set, Jazzurka, was even more captivating (if one may indulge in favorites), and if the composer allows the pieces to be performed individually, this one will surely take on legs of its own. From its opening, with delicate hints of Chopin’s A Minor Mazurka, Op. 17, No. 4, the most ingenious jazz development ensues. One can only guess how devotedly Mr. Grante must have lived and breathed this Chopin-Adolphe hybrid over the past year, but he truly brought it to life.

Brooklyn Ballad, the fourth of the set (containing material from Chopin’s G Minor Ballade), seems to tell an urban tale, as if a counterpart to one of Chopin’s poetic inspirations were channeled through Bill Evans. Again, Mr. Grante was outstanding.

The fifth piece, cleverly entitled Quaalude (a play on “Prelude” and using similar left hand passagework to that of Chopin’s G Major Prelude) was another tour de force, played brilliantly. The Chopin connection seemed tenuous in two dance forms which, as Adolphe notes, Chopin never heard of – hip-hop rhythms as heard in Piano Popping (the third piece) and the Hora as heard in the final (sixth) piece of that title – but these pieces are musical “dreams” after all. They livened things up well, and Mr. Grante played them with panache. The audience exploded into applause for both the pianist and the composer, who was present for bows.

As if all of this had not been enough of a draw for one evening, Mr. Grante presented, for the program’s second half, a string of virtuosic Studies on Chopin Etudes by Leopold Godowsky (1870-1938), selecting those based on Chopin’s Études Op. 10 and including four arranged for the left hand. Though the program had listed twelve of Godowsky’s 53 (1, 4, 5, 6, 8, 13, 14, 16, 18, 19, 21, and 22), Mr. Grante wound up omitting Nos. 1 and 21. In any case, playing even ten of these is something of an Olympic trial for a pianist, and one could enjoy the thrill simply on that level. Pianophiles will inevitably recall performances that set the bar higher for this or that one (some of Marc-André Hamelin’s come to mind), but again, just how often does one hear so many in live performance?

Mr. Grante’s execution in the Godowsky had much to admire, as one has come to expect with this pianist, especially in the left hand technique. One reservation was that the resonant bass and middle registers sometimes interrupted or overwhelmed more delicate top voices, breaking lines, but much of this issue may have been due to quirks of the Bösendorfer piano and acoustics. In the pianist’s pursuit of extremely soft sounds, some tones vanished altogether, and as one issue affects the next, tempo and fluency occasionally sounded encumbered. As challenging as these pieces are, one wants to hear them sound like child’s play.

Despite such reservations, one’s focus in hearing the Godowsky was not so much in assessing the virtuosity as in wrapping one’s mind around the dazzling tonal world that grew from Chopin, from that of his own original compositions, to Godowsky’s early twentieth-century expansions, and to the newer musical explorations around them, by Bruce Adolphe and others. The programming itself urged such an appreciative listening approach, despite offering plenty of bait for the keyboard-centric. It was beautifully conceived.

The sole original Chopin work of the evening was the opener – Chopin’s Sonata No. 2 in B-flat minor, Op. 35 (the “Funeral March” Sonata). It has a long tradition of great performances and had much to praise here too, but again, whether due to acoustics, the piano, or a novel conception that just eluded this listener, some of work’s most singing lines felt disjointed or too thin in relation to basses. This was most noticeable in the slow movement, but it affected earlier movements as well. The imbalance somehow was not as distracting during the evening’s premiere (but then again, there is no basis for comparison with a new work).

On the plus side, Mr. Grante’s extremely soft pianissimos for ethereal effect succeeded in entrancing for prolonged spells the otherwise rather ill-behaved audience, who were leaving cellphones ringing, clapping between movements, and even drinking from a bottle in the front row! While Mr. Grante was quite gracious and acknowledged the applause at whatever points it came, it was still annoying to have the “afterglow” constantly interrupted. One was thankful that, upon the last notes of the heartbreaking Chopin slow movement, Mr. Grante overrode the stirrings of applause by launching straight into his last movement, the famous “wind over the graves” Finale. It was chillingly transparent in tone and a reminder of how vital and “new” to our ears Chopin can still be.

All in all, with minor quibbles aside, it was an extremely stimulating evening, just what a culturally spoiled New Yorker wants, and an auspicious start to the new concert season. Bravo!

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by Rorianne Schrade  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Miryong Cha, Pianist in Review

Miryong Cha, Pianist in Review

Miryong Cha, piano
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
June 23, 2015

In the highly competitive field of classical music, it is a significant achievement to earn one’s major degrees in piano at a prominent conservatory such as the Manhattan School of Music and to top things off with a Doctor of Musical Arts degree from an established school such as Rutgers. These credentials, plus some awards, concerts, and two teaching posts in Korea, were listed in the program biography of Miryong Cha, who performed last week in her New York Recital Debut.

One might assume that any young performer having studied with some highly respected teachers and passing such hurdles, has probably had his or her devotion to music tested thoroughly – the faint of heart do not easily pass jury exams and test recitals (let alone competitions) without determination and love of the craft. Actual concerts, presumably with unfettered choices of repertoire, are expected to be somewhat easier. It is thus perplexing to witness a recital that feels as much like a trial as did that of Ms. Cha. One wonders whether she was perhaps not feeling well – and the ten-minute wait for her to appear onstage at the beginning seemed to suggest as much. In any case, for unknown reasons, her demeanor and playing projected such a combination of resignation and doom that this listener felt like an unwelcome spectator at a punishment, a tricoteuse by the guillotine.

A work where the gallows bleakness is appropriate is “Le Gibet” the central movement from Ravel’s Gaspard de la Nuit, and indeed this was fittingly dark in Ms. Cha’s hands – but there were also numerous points in the program where one’s spirit could have soared with the music and it wasn’t happening. The rest of the Ravel set contained some of Ms. Cha’s better playing of the evening, particularly in “Ondine,” though still Ms. Cha favored the “doldrums” aspect of the ocean sounds, tempering all high points. “Scarbo” was unusually slow and lacking in its usual nightmarish intensity.

Despite the fact that Ms. Cha’s biography lists a recent lecture in Korea on the “Stylistic Analysis of Chopin’s 24 Preludes” she seemed skittish about the Chopin. Perhaps when one writes in depth about a work, one can psyche oneself out a bit, though ideally an analysis should deepen one’s interpretations.

The C Major Prelude (marked “Agitato”) was surprisingly slow and cautious (what one might call “practice tempo”), but it still had more than the typical number of errors, particularly in the left hand. No one is perfect, and the best pianists have errors in live performance, but sufficient awareness of the harmony should prevent an excess of these. At first, one chalked things up to nerves, but there developed a growing sense that all had not been prepared with sufficient loving care. Frequent mishaps beset the Preludes in D Major, F-sharp minor, G-sharp minor (which did however have a strong ending), and others. The ferocious B-flat minor Prelude was not quite mastered but was “prettified” with receding climaxes. By contrast, several of the slower Preludes were played disconcertingly briskly, including the A Minor (“Lento”) and the B minor (“Lento Assai”), the latter of which had been chosen for Chopin’s own funeral. There may have been some theory at play that the slow ones need to be played faster and the faster ones, more slowly – one doesn’t know – but if so, the case needed to be made convincing to the listener.

A layman could overlook the misfires in less famous Preludes, but it is hard to conceal harmonic lapses in a work as well known as the E minor Prelude. Many amateurs and students have played this one – along with the A major, B minor and C minor – so finesse is especially important. The A major seemed disturbingly fast, bordering on flippancy, and with some note slips as well. The D-flat Prelude flew by without any projection of the suspensions, so the resolutions felt superfluous as a result.

Some of Ms. Cha’s playing stood out as more successful, such as the F major Prelude, the E major, which enjoyed a deeply resonant bass, and the G major, which showed a solid (if slightly overpowering) left hand. The famously difficult E-flat Prelude was also in the beginning surprisingly clean compared to the others, though some exposed peak notes were missed. Perhaps with time, the entire set will ripen. Again, it is possible that for much of the recital Ms. Cha was in some kind of discomfort, because she seemed to be moving her right shoulder in random gyrations that bore no relation to the music or physical act of playing.

In addition to Chopin and Ravel, Ms. Cha included the lesser-known Fantasy in C minor, K.396, based on two pages of an unfinished Violin Sonata by Mozart, but actually finished as a piano piece by Maximilian Stadler (1748-1833). It was listed as Mozart (as it often has been), but I feel Stadler’s name needs to be there as well. Widely thought to have been an attempt to sell Mozart’s musical scraps as a meal, it is a roughly nine-minute pastiche sounding like C.P.E. Bach thrown into a blender with Mozart, Beethoven, and a dash of Czerny. This hybrid work has attracted many fine pianists including Sofronitzky, Gieseking, Brendel, Kraus, and others, though it takes imagination and power of persuasion to pull it off. It made an interesting addition as a listener sorted out which parts sounded truly Mozartean and which did not, but it never quite rose above the level of that mental exercise.

I do hope to hear Ms. Cha again, hopefully on an evening that reflects better her fine credentials.

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by Rorianne Schrade  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Yerevan Perspectives International Music Festival Presents Evgeny Kissin: “With You, Armenia” in Review

Yerevan Perspectives International Music Festival Presents Evgeny Kissin: “With You, Armenia” in Review

Yerevan Perspectives International Music Festival Presents Evgeny Kissin: “With You, Armenia”
A Concert to Commemorate the 100th Anniversary of the Armenian Genocide
Evgeny Kissin, piano; Hover Chamber Choir, Sona Hovhannisyan, Director and Choirmaster
Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
May 26, 2015

 

Just over a week after a full-length solo piano recital at Carnegie Hall (including Beethoven, Chopin, Liszt, and Prokofiev), Evgeny Kissin shared a program with the Hover Chamber Choir, an Armenian ensemble, marking the 100th anniversary of the Armenian genocide that started April 24, 1915.

The first half was approximately an hour of unaccompanied choral music from the twenty-five singers under the direction of the Hover Choir’s founder Sona Hovhannisyan, and the second half was all-Chopin in the hands of Mr. Kissin, including the Fantasy in F minor, the Nocturne in F-sharp minor, Op. 48, the Polonaise in C minor, Op. 40 and the Scherzo in B-flat minor. It was a moving occasion, its somber premise illuminated by moments of hope and heroism.

Mr. Kissin is an artist of heroic stature himself, avoiding the gimmicks of so many colleagues, maintaining integrity and the highest standards, and embracing philanthropic pursuits. A giant in the piano world at age 43, he never rests on his laurels but constantly evolves and surprises. On this occasion Mr. Kissin’s choices of repertoire were full of gravitas, and his playing seemed colored by the solemnity of the occasion. The martial opening of the Fantasy in F minor was fittingly sober in matters of tone and tempo, and the same could be said of Chopin’s Nocturne in F-sharp minor and Polonaise in C minor, Op. 40, all with moments of ethereal beauty, but with the careful unfolding of a sage storyteller. There were musical revelations throughout and always a sound that projected singingly, even at pianissimo levels, to the farthest corners of the hall. Chopin’s Scherzo No. 2 in B-flat minor ended his half brilliantly calling for two encores.

One will not soon forget his second encore to this Chopin half-recital, a rendition of Chopin’s “Heroic” Polonaise (Op. 53) that made jaws drop. The speed with which he started the notorious left-hand octaves seemed almost foolhardy at first, but he kept them up with such turbo-charged power and precision that one could only admire. While I’ve always enjoyed Vladimir Horowitz’s more gradual buildup, it was hard to resist this sheer thrill.

Undoubtedly Mr. Kissin could have obliged his clamoring audience with a longer string of encores, as he usually does (one Carnegie performance eliciting twelve), but he showed deference to the solemnity of the occasion by limiting it to two; it was clear that he was not merely a “headliner” for this concert but an artist with a special empathy for the suffering of the Armenian people. His first encore was thus a haunting transcription by Georgy Saradjian of the song “Grounk” (or “Krunk” – “The Crane”) by composer, priest, and patriarch of Armenian music, Komitas Vartapet (1869-1935). Based on a poem by Hovhannes Toumanian (The Crane), this music expresses the desolation of those mourning the loss of their homes, friends, families, and cultural “nest” while the crane returns to his; it is thus a song of great symbolism to the Armenian Diaspora. The audience, including many Armenians, gave thunderous approval, as if a century’s worth of unheard pain were being released through the music.

For around a century, “Armenian Genocide” has met some resistance as a term to describe the brutal massacre by the Ottoman Empire of an estimated 1.5 million Armenians (between 1915 and 1923). The tiptoeing around it, the lumping of it with World War I, and the outright denial of it have taken the Armenian heartbreak to new lows, as have the displaced and ruined lives of victims and their descendants. The facts are stubborn, however, and the former Prime Minister of the Republic of Armenia, Tigran Sargsyan (currently Ambassador of Armenia to the US) was present to introduce the occasion as the anniversary of the “first modern genocide.”

Among the victims of the torment was the abovementioned composer Komitas himself (often referred to without “Vartapet” which was comparable to “Father”). Komitas survived the horrors of 1915 only to live his last twenty years a broken man. His is a gripping story, the telling of which might have deepened the listeners’ experience, but sadly there were no program notes about him – or about any of the Armenian composers presented. This was a woeful omission, especially considering that Armenia has suffered from loss of a voice for so long.

With the exception of the last choral piece Sweet Breeze – a highlight of the program with its wind-like effects– we heard the Komitas works just as he wrote them, a cappella (except for the conductors’ own additions of some bell-like sounds). The program included Folk songs and selections from the Armenian Divine Liturgy. The music, based on monody, was modal and melismatic, sensitively set, and sung with a balanced and luminous sound. In the interest of space, the list of songs will not be included here, but may be seen at the Carnegie Hall event page (Program listing). An hour was perhaps too heavy a dose of similarly textured music for the uninitiated – something to consider if the goal includes furthering Armenian music – but the concert certainly opened some musical doors.

Interspersed were more contemporary Armenian works including the wide-ranging Waterfall Music by Vache Sharafyan (b. 1966), the imaginative Three Portraits of Women (The Rainbow) by Tigran Mansurian (b. 1939), and a fanciful piece, The Little Prince and the Fox by Anna Azizyan.

Sadly, the only program notes given were about internationally renowned Polish composer Krzysztof Penderecki (b. 1933), whose “Psalm III dedicated to the Armenian Genocide” was presented in a World Premiere. Mr. Penderecki was expected to be present but could not attend. He missed a moving performance. His Psalm III is a stirring work, full of faith but also of anger, with the text opening, “Lord, how many are my foes!” The Hover Chamber Choir performed it with tremendous expressiveness.

Other works were an interesting free arrangement of “Es ist ein Ros entsprungen” (“Lo, How a Rose E’er Blooming”) by Jan Sandström (b. 1954) and “Carol”(“Maiden in the mor lay”) by Benjamin Britten (1913-1976). They were beautiful and despite the lack of an explicit connection to Armenia, quite meaningful to this observance.

All in all, despite small issues about programming and the absence of notes, the evening succeeded in its goal of commemorating a grave event in history. Congratulations are in order for the large undertaking. One hopes that it served to further a renaissance of sorts, empowering Armenians to find an ever-greater voice.

 

 

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