The Lin-Castro-Balbi Duo in Review

MidAmerica Productions Presents “Playing Favorites”
The Lin-Castro-Balbi Duo in Review: Jesús Castro-Balbi, cello and Gloria Lin, piano
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall; New York, NY
March 25, 2012

A beautifully conceived program of music for cello and piano offered something for everyone, as the husband-wife team of Gloria Lin and Jesús Castro-Balbi brought a mix ranging from Beethoven (actually from Mozart, if one counts the theme of the Beethoven variations) all the way to an American work composed in 2012. Peruvian-born cellist Castro-Balbi and Taiwanese pianist Gloria Lin have performed widely as individuals, but their musical marriage adds a special dimension to their careers, both as performers and as faculty members at Texas Christian University in Fort Worth, Texas.

Beethoven’s Seven Variations in E-flat on a Theme from Mozart’s “Die Zauberflöte” (WoO 46, 1801) opened on a poised and authoritative note. What could be a happier opening for two partners in life than the love duet “Bei Mannern welche Liebe fuhlen”, given some of Beethoven’s sunniest treatment? This work found the duo to be very much equal players, not soloist and accompanist as often happens; having the piano lid raised on the full stick seemed to underscore this partnership. Ms. Lin was able to handle the resonance without ever letting the rapid passagework become obtrusive, and Mr. Castro-Balbi played with a strong, projective tone. In the parallel minor Variation 4, the cellist was at his expressive best, while the pianist had her finest expressive moments in Variation 6. If Variation 7 was a bit unsettled, one could hardly fault them after the hallowed space between variations was interrupted by a particularly hideous cellphone ringtone; they recovered from the intrusion well, however, closing the work in sanguine spirit.

Shostakovich’s Sonata, Op. 40 was a good segue and counterbalance, classically conceived, yet with the probing and dissonance of the 1934 world. The pair’s reading showed brooding darkness in the first and third movements and considerable relish in the playful and rugged second and fourth movements. Both players achieved moments of brilliance and beauty throughout, though not quite reaching the level of visceral involvement that I love to feel in this work.

Debussy’s Sonate for cello (1915) opened the second half with a French masterpiece, combining a rhapsodic approach to form with every cello challenge in the book. Mr. Castro-Balbi was more than up to its demands. The duo nicely captured the quixotic nature of its central Sérénade and the soaring Final. It was a fine (though unstated) tribute to Debussy in his 150th anniversary year. The World Premiere of Till MacIvor Meyn’s “Revolutions” (2012) was a highlight of the evening, a work of violent ostinatos and wrestling dissonances, giving rise to dramatic transformations. The passion and synchronization made this piece simply electric. The composer writes in his notes that the work was inspired by the regime overthrows in the Middle East, as well as by an alternate definition of “revolution,” the sense of “turning or revolving of tonalities in the music.” Mr. Meyn, a colleague of the duo at TCU, composed the work especially for Ms. Lin and Mr. Castro-Balbi, and it suited them perfectly, as it did the resonant bass of the hall’s Steinway.

“Le Grand Tango” by Piazzolla concluded the written program. Originally for cello and piano, this piece exists in many other versions (this listener having played it on two pianos), and it can be equally successful in all its incarnations. It can be alternately suave, smoldering, and searing in each one, but it needs careful pacing. In this particular case, I felt it peaked too soon, and the effort to prolong a crescendo from such intense dynamic levels felt too strenuous. On the other hand, it aroused a large burst of applause, capping off what was all in all an excellent recital.

The first exciting encore was a jazzy movement from “Manhattan Serenades” by Gabriela Frank, followed by the more contemplative “Poema III” by Brazilian composer Marlos Nobre.

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

Gila Goldstein Pianist in Review

Gila Goldstein, Piano
Saint Andrew Music Society: Music on Madison
Madison Avenue Presbyterian Church, New York, N.Y.
March 18, 2012
 
Gila Goldstein

Gila Goldstein

 

Balmy weather in New York may seem like stiff competition for one’s afternoon versus sitting indoors at a piano recital, but a lot depends on the program and the artist. As it turned out, Gila Goldstein’s piano recital was the perfect welcome to imminent spring. Opening with a substantial work by J. S. Bach, whom many musicians associate with spring (both for his birthdate and his perennial newness), Ms. Goldstein gave one of the finest accounts I can recall of the Partita in E minor.

From its opening Toccata movement, tastefully and meaningfully embellished, she projected its singing lines with a sense of freedom without ever losing sight of the pacing and framework, clearly and thoroughly conceived. To say that a performance is thoroughly satisfying may sound to some like faint praise, but, considering how rarely such a reaction occurs with Bach performances today, it is not. As a pianist-reviewer it can be difficult to set aside one’s preferences within the wide range of possible Bach interpretations, and unsurprisingly, there were fleeting moments in Sunday’s recital when I felt I would have tried for something different; remarkably, however, in each case the dispute was settled by hindsight (or should I say hindsound?), in that her choices ultimately made sense in revelatory ways. I especially admired Ms. Goldstein’s expert treatment of overlapping voices, where individual lines are often either buried or thumped out, and here they simply shone clearly through the transparency of texture she achieved. The Allemande movement was poetically delivered, and while some might take exception to the tendency to shrink suddenly in volume at melodic high points (here and in other movements), there was Romantic poignancy in such moments. The Corrente was so feather light and marvelously controlled in each nanosecond that I was sad that the repeats had not been observed, as it was all over in a blink. Here and elsewhere, Ms. Goldstein followed her heart, and in the end the repeats and absence of repeats all balanced out in a logical way. The Sarabande was thoughtful and compelling, though I occasionally felt that some of the embellishments (as a way to be declamatory perhaps?) burst forth in a way that distracted a bit from the long lines. In any case, it was always engaging, and the Tempo di Gavotta and brilliant Gigue left one wanting for nothing. I would love to hear Ms. Goldstein play and record much more Bach, as I imagine she could easily become one of my favorite Bach interpreters.

In a way, all one has to do after such a fine performance is to avoid spoiling the afterglow – so it was with some reluctance that I moved my attention to anything else – but Ms. Goldstein continued her program quite admirably. Chopin’s Polonaise in C-sharp minor, Op. 26, No. 1, was sensitively delivered next, with more of the arresting “subito piano” phrases one had heard in the Bach, and the exquisite Nocturne in B Major, Op. 62, No. 1, one of my favorites, followed without pause. Possibly the only thing I can imagine that would have heightened the beauty of this performance would have been greater seamlessness in the string of trills at the return of the opening melody  – it is something over which pianists lose sleep, but it can bring a performance to a transcendent level. Chopin’s Barcarolle Op. 60 brought the first half to a commanding close; although the Romantic leanings shown in the Bach had led one to expect more reveling in the extravagant beauty of this work, Ms. Goldstein was persuasive in a relatively taut, muscular reading, leaving much to ponder.

After intermission came Liszt’s Vallée d’Obermann from the Years of Pilgrimage, Volume I (“Suisse”), given great loving attention to detail in the gentler sections and a bold approach in the octave fusillades. Ginastera’s Sonata No. 1 added just the right dimension of dissonance after so much lush harmony, and it was just as vibrant as it needs to be. The first movement could have benefited from a bit more left hand clarity in extremely rapid passages, and the second movement left me wondering whether soft parts could have been still softer (especially where marked with “ppp”), but it seems rather greedy to ask for more of anything when such excellence abounded. Persistent applause was rewarded with an encore of Tchaikovsky’s “October” from The Seasons. It seemed the audience could have stayed for much more, myself included.

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

Guitar Fest: Pro Musicis Concert in Review

 Guitar Fest: Pro Musicis Concert in Review
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall
March 14, 2012
Duo Michel de Paula & Luiz Mantovani

Duo Michel de Paula & Luiz Mantovani

Luiz Mantovani

Luiz Mantovani

Emanuele Segre

Pro Musicis, a concert organization that began its auditions in 1965, has presented its awardees in more than 1,900 concerts in Europe, Asia, and North America, both in prominent venues such as Weill Hall and through community outreach programs. This season it presented a recital entitled “Guitar Fest” which included three of their four winning guitarists, Rafael Aguirre, Luiz Mantovani, and Emmanuele Segre. The three combined forces in solos and duos, joined by flutist Michel de Paula and cellist Nadège Rochat, in what was a thoroughly enjoyable evening. There was plenty of variety despite the fact that the program heavily favored music from Spain and South America, as the balancing of lyricism, pyrotechnics, intimate chamber collaboration, and solo virtuosity kept the surprises coming. David Leisner, composer, guitarist, and host for the evening, remarked on the generous spirit of the performers in sharing the stage, but really, the collaborations were to everyone’s benefit.

The first guitarist, Rafael Aguirre, chose to pair with Ms. Rochat, cello, to open with Manuel de Falla’s Spanish Dance from “La Vida Breve” (after which they’ve named their duo). Their blending was expert, and though the cello faced some intonation challenges, its sound did weave seamlessly into the guitar textures. Mr. Aguirre was restrained in his collaborative role. The same duo then played “Volver” by Carlos Gardels and two more selections of Falla, “El Paño Moruno” and “Polo” from “Siete Canciones Populares Españolas,” each player becoming more extroverted with time. Ms. Rochat showed some skillful bending of phrases, while Mr. Aguirre started to show more of the effortless virtuosity that would really come to the fore next in his solo works, including “Guajiras de Lucía” by Paco de Lucía (b. 1947) and Intermedio from “La Boda de Luis Alonso” by Jerónimo Giménez (1854-1923). An outstanding player with unquestionable technique, Mr. Aguirre showed an especially rare gift to make the guitar sing.

The second guitarist Luiz Mantovani took the stage with flutist Michel de Paula in the World Premiere of “Brazilian Landscapes No. 12” by Liduíno Pitombeira (b. 1962). A suite of contrasting impressions in five movements (Ponteio, Baião, Modinha, Frevo, and Acalanto), this set took listeners on a journey through Brazil with the aid of helpful program notes by Dr. Richard E. Rodda. Moving from its languorous prelude to the vibrant Carnival-inspired Frevo (with Mr. de Paula changing to piccolo), and back to its closing lullaby, the suite seemed not so much a mere set of vignettes as a deep immersion into the Brazilian tonal world, inviting many further hearings. The composer was present to bow and thank the performers, exceptional champions for this deserving work.

It was a joy then to hear Mr. Mantovani after intermission in a more familiar work by which one could concentrate on his solo artistry. His introspective rendition of the “Valsa-Chôro” from the “Suite Popular Brasileira” by Heitor Villa-Lobos was just perfect in its plaintive beauty.

David Leisner’s “Mirage” (1987) followed, bringing guitarist Emanuele Segre onstage in duo with Mr. Mantovani. The duo realized this finely wrought piece with tremendous dedication and projection. The contrapuntal opening was magnificently clear in its “dialogue” while in the rapid passages the duo combined as one in a single line. It is an excellent piece, and it was given a first-rate performance.

Mr. Segre continued the evening with two South American works, starting with “Canto de Ossanha” by Baden Powell (1937-2000). A captivating piece from its simple opening through its subsequent development, it was given an amazing degree of contrast and nuance by Mr. Segre, a most expressive and dramatic interpreter with one of the largest dynamic ranges I’ve heard from a guitarist. Prelude No.1 in E Minor by Villa-Lobos was followed by two works by Roland Dyens (b.1955), “Songe Capricorne” and then “Fuoco” from “Libra Sonatine”, alternately Bachian and jazzy, punctuated with percussive bursts, and full of intense expression. It was a dynamic close to an exciting evening.

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

Reflections of Life (DCINY), in Review

DISTINGUISHED CONCERTS INTERNATIONAL NEW YORK: DCINY
REFLECTIONS OF LIFE: Distinguished Concerts Orchestra International and Distinguished Concerts Singers International in Music of James Eakin III and Greg Gilpin
Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall; New York, NY
February 20, 2012
 

“Reflections of Life” Distinguished Concerts Orchestra and Singers International; PHOTO CREDIT – Richard Termine

 

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) has a gift for drawing large numbers of performers from far and wide and bringing them to still larger audiences, creating what are often spectacular events. Their most recent concert featuring music by James Eakin III and Greg Gilpin was no exception. High school and adult choruses from New Jersey, Texas, Alabama, Colorado, Wisconsin, Indiana, Minnesota, Louisiana, California, and Pennsylvania all converged onto the Perlman Stage, with choirs also filling several front balconies, enveloping the listener with sound; if one doubted the life-affirming power of classical music today, one might have a change of heart just from the sheer collective energy. Granted, not all the music performed was strictly classical, but Broadway and folk music were blended seamlessly into the mix with the help of DCINY’s versatile orchestra. Special guest, Clay Aiken, made an appearance to lend his support to the festivities with brief comments during the second hal8f.

The first half was devoted to the World Premiere of a 47-minute choral work, “Flowers Over the Graves of War” by James Eakin III, who has also written extensively for film and television. As the composer explains in his notes, “Commentary on the horrors of war and pleas to God for forgiveness and guidance permeate this work.” In six movements set to poetry by Michael Dennis Browne, along with Latin texts from traditional Requiem movements, the work ultimately conveys messages of faith, mercy, hope, and peace. As the composer also comments, the three soloists express the more introspective lines; soprano, Ida Nicolosi, mezzo-soprano Kirsten Allegri, and tenor Gregory Warren were commendable in their parts. A highlight was in the Sanctus, where the upper voices joined in duet, later united with the tenor in powerful trio. According to the composer, the higher voices were to express the “unwavering love and faith of a child” with the lower voices expressing darker elements. One wondered by the end of the work whether this “work of contrasts” (as the composer describes it) might have prospered from more juxtaposition of dissonance and consonance as well as the contrasting registers and textures, since even some sections modifying text about war seemed quite mild; on the other hand, such sweetness suited the choirs at hand, as well as the ultimate message of mercy. The use of percussion in martial sections added ballast, and while the orchestra may have been a bit overzealous in volume, the soloists generally met the challenge of projecting over them. Overall, I found this a moving work by a composer from whom I’ll be interested to hear more. Deft conducting by Tim Seelig brought it all together well.

After intermission we heard original and arranged music of Greg Gilpin
, with the conductor at the podium.  Mr. Gilpin conducted with infectious energy, and his choral works matched his conducting style in their all-embracing range.  Listening to the opening piece, “Why We Sing,” one could understand the popularity this work has had with choruses since its publication in 2005.  “Through the Eyes of a Child” (text by Mark Burrows and music by Gilpin and Burrows) brought out one of the themes of the evening, the bond between young and old, and “A Child’s Credo/In Virtute Tua” (a World Premiere) underscored that bond further.  These are works of immediate appeal that blur distinctions between classical and popular music. “There’s Room for Many-a More!” added the joyous touch of the American Spiritual, and a medley of favorites from 
”The Music of ‘The Wizard of Oz’” capped off the evening in high spirits.  Mr. Gilpin seems destined for ever-widening popular appeal. As is often the case with arrangements, there were some program omissions in crediting original sources; naturally the medley was Mr. Gilpin’s conception, but it seems a shame when, for example, “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” is sung, not to see the name of its composer Harold Arlen mentioned anywhere.  In any case, the end of the evening found the audience quite uplifted.

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

Katelyn Tran, Pianist in Review

Katelyn Tran, piano
New York Piano Academy: West End Presbyterian Church, New York, N.Y.
January 25, 2012
 
 
Katelyn Tran

Katelyn Tran

 

Still a high school student only 17 years old, Katelyn Tran has an arsenal of piano technique and repertoire that would make many twenty-something conservatory pianists envious. Well taught for seven years by distinguished composer-pianist Ronn Yedidia (who presented this recital) as well as Veda Zuponcic prior to that, Ms. Tran lists a string of competition awards that already takes a full page. What’s more, the mentions of what repertoire she has covered in these various competitions show her as a musician with genuine musical fluency and versatility, not some formulaic “bag of tricks” taken out through win after win. Her playing itself, as heard in this debut recital, confirmed that she has a musical grasp far beyond her years, as well as the technique and stamina to carry her through ambitious programs. Should she choose to pursue the musical life beyond this point, there seems no limit to how far she might go. As music is a “jealous mistress” that decision will be the key.

Beethoven’s Sonata No. 27, Op. 90, in E minor opened the program. Ms. Tran played it with the kind of mellow maturity it requires, and my only reservation was that I wanted a tiny bit more breathing at phrase endings. As it was an opener, one might expect some adrenaline-related rushing, so this minor restlessness made hardly a blip on one’s radar.  Following Beethoven came two movements of Schumann’s Grand Sonata No. 3, Op 14, in F minor, the Allegro Brillante and the Quasi Variazioni: Andantino de Clara Wieck. It is always a joy to hear this Schumann programmed, as it is full of marvelous surprises but played less often than so many of the composer’s other works – another testament to Dr. Yedidia’s teaching through the exploration of a wide piano literature. Ms. Tran handled it with a mastery that was astonishing to behold in one so young, and one could envision that, given time to live with it, hers could become one of the outstanding renditions of the piece. Chopin’s Scherzo No. 2, Op. 31, in Bb minor rounded out the first half.  Small interpretive disagreements aside, she gave it a winning performance. Occasionally I felt too much haste in her finger work, in that passages seemed to “slide into home plate” rather than to arrive with fullness, but that quality is almost endemic to the world of the busy teenager. Hers was playing that moved ceaselessly to the next thing, as undoubtedly one so talented must do in life when faced with a surfeit of gifts.

Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition after intermission felt more “in the moment,” and the local color was ample. “The Old Castle” felt more desolate and expansive than ever, and I’ve never heard heavier oxen depicted than in her “Bydlo” movement – one had to resist laughing out loud to watch this delicate, elegant young lady create such sounds. The “Ballet of the Unhatched Chicks” also popped with life. Only some understandable messiness towards the end of the whole piece showed the effects of the program’s demands. It crossed my mind that it could also be the specter of Liszt’s Mephisto Waltz No. 1, yet to come, that prevented Mussorgsky from receiving the consummate finish it could have had, and the truth is that the program would have been sufficient without the Liszt; that said, when I heard her Liszt I could see why she (or her teacher) could not resist adding it. She handled it like child’s play. Over time the Mephisto Waltz may gain a touch more of its seductive element to match the speed demon aspect, but what a tremendous foundation it will have.

Ms. Tran graciously provided an encore of Debussy’s Clair de Lune, a very emotional touch marking the close of her years at the New York Piano Academy and the debut of untold wonders. It was simply beautiful.

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

Ang Li, Pianist in Review

Ang Li, piano
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall
December 18, 2011

The recent New York recital of Chinese-Canadian pianist Ang Li was billed both as her Weill Recital Hall debut and as a Franz Liszt 200th birthday year celebration entitled “Years of Pilgrimage.” Referring to the masterful suites of Liszt’s, “Années de Pèlerinage,” the program actually included only one work from these sets, “Les jeux d’eaux à la Villa d’Este” from Book III; beyond this selection, the program title was mostly a gentle suggestion of unity for music that also included Liszt transcriptions of Schubert and Wagner and Liszt’s Ballade No. 2 on the first half, and two contemporary Canadian works, plus music of Debussy and Granados on the second half. It was certainly more wide-ranging than other “Liszt celebrations” heard this year – some would even say that some stated connections were rather tenuous – but it did demonstrate that it is hard to find any music not connected to Liszt by “six degrees of separation” or fewer.

It was a wise decision for Ang Li to branch out, as she came to life most with the more modern works on the program. There is no question that Ms. Li has the technical equipment for the rigors of Romantic virtuoso piano music, and her credentials, including numerous accolades and international tours, point to her mastery and versatility; her temperament, on the other hand, seemed a better fit for works by the non-Romantics. She showed a particular affinity for Debussy’s timbres through her finely controlled touch in “Brouillards” (“Mists”), while Minstrels had just the right bumptious feeling. “Feux d’artifice” (“Fireworks”) closed the group of three Debussy Preludes with brilliance, leaving one wondering whether an impressionistic theme program can be far behind in his upcoming 150th anniversary.

Prior to Debussy, we heard the US Premiere of  “Es ist genug!” (2007) by Jérôme Blais (b. 1965). An intriguing, partly improvisatory work, it incorporates into a dreamlike tonal backdrop various fragments of music by J. S. Bach, as representative of the sacred in this composer’s otherwise atheistic view. One heard, among other fragments, bits of Bach’s D Major Prelude (WTC, Book II) and the B-flat Partita with bits of the title Chorale. What could have resembled (and at times approached) an Ivesian dream of Juilliard’s practice floor before a Bach recital was held together powerfully in Ms. Li’s inspired and focused conception. The composer was present to speak and receive applause, as was Jared Miller (b. 1988) whose “Souvenirs d’Europe” (2011) were given a persuasive account. Prompted by recent travels in Europe, Mr. Miller’s three pieces suggested fountains (“Fontaines”), the cathedral of Notre Dame (“Origines”), and a Spanish tourist scene (“¡La Rambla!”). Kinship with Liszt stopped at the travel-themed title, though, as these were in a new, individual tonal language (perhaps with the exception of “Origines” which struck one as resembling Messiaen – appropriately enough, given the inspiration). Miller writes brilliantly for the piano and shows remarkable accomplishment for one so young. He was quite fortunate, one must add, to have a pianist as skilled as Ms. Li to perform his music.

Also very successful was the Granados Allegro de Concierto, which closed the program. The end of the program’s westward travel arc concluding in sunny Spain, it seemed to warm the musical temperature of things, in phrasing and timbre, where the opening Liszt half had not.

The opening work, the Wagner-Liszt transcription of Isolde’s Liebestod had plunged the audience into high drama perhaps too suddenly, and the three Schubert-Liszt song transcriptions (“Wohin?”, “Der Müller und der Bach,” and “Gretchen am Spinnrade”) were well done, but felt somehow disengaged. Liszt’s “Les jeux d’eaux à la Villa d’Este” was technically stunning (and a beautiful precedent for the Jared Miller fountains), but even the octave fusillades in the Ballade No. 2 in B minor, though confidently executed, seemed to leave performer and audience a bit cold.

All in all, I look forward to hearing Ms. Li again in ever more personally expressive playing. Encores of a Chinese folk song (Chen Peixun’s “Autumn Moon Over the Calm Lake”) and Alexina Louie’s “Memories In An Ancient Garden” showed where some of that more personal involvement might lead.

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

Lloyd Arriola pianist in Review

Lloyd Arriola, piano
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
November 20, 2011
 
Arriola Lloyd, pianist; Photo Credit by Kristin Hoebermann of Hoebermann Studios, New York

Arriola Lloyd, pianist; Photo Credit by Kristin Hoebermann of Hoebermann Studios, New York

 
 
 

Continuing the celebration of Franz Liszt’s 200th anniversary, Lloyd Arriola added his Weill Recital Hall debut to the festivities, bringing works to the table that are less than familiar to the average concertgoer. One could dedicate this entire review to Mr. Arriola’s bold and original programming, but the performer himself warrants full focus here; suffice it to say that the unconventional selections underscored the freshness that pervaded the recital in every way.

My first impression of Mr. Arriola was of his highly entertaining program notes, written in a conversational style with occasionally irreverent humor (e.g., a comparison of two of Liszt’s “sister” works to Wynonna and Ashley Judd), but always with expertise and insight. After decades of attending concerts, these are among the few sets of program notes I am actually tempted to save. I’d like to devote a separate article to this subject –how program notes should not read like a college theory essay or worse – but will meanwhile say that they do matter. Mr. Arriola “sells” his music, and it starts before the concert. The pianist’s biography, listing a doctorate from Juilliard and numerous performances as soloist, collaborator, and conductor, was similarly refreshing, avoiding the puffery one sees so often, but presenting the portrait of a working musician wearing many hats, all requiring top-notch skills. Following the biography was a page of grateful acknowledgments that would make an Oscar-winner blush.  If all this text painted the picture of Mr. Arriola as a passionate “people person” his first steps onstage confirmed it. Cheers greeted him before he played a note, not the work of a claque, but the intense, spontaneous outburst of many friends present.

In an instant summoning of concentration, Mr. Arriola took on an opener of Liszt’s “Grand solo de concert,” composed as a test piece for students at a Paris Conservatory competition in 1849. A test it is, chock full of every kind of technical stunt possible (and some impossible!), but Mr. Arriola handled it with polish and aplomb. It is a substantial and exhausting work, especially when played with the intensity given on this occasion, so one marveled not only at its choice (it is understandably neglected), but also at its placement as opening piece.

A hard act to follow, it was followed nonetheless by another neglected giant, Liszt’s Fantasia and Fugue on the Chorale “Ad nos, a salutarem undam” (Illustration No. 4 from Meyerbeer’s “Le Prophéte”) transcribed by Ferrucio Busoni. Here Mr. Arriola coupled his large-scale technique with an absolutely solid mastery of structure and difficult fugal writing. It was a dramatic performance – a rare combination of passion and extroversion with laser-sharp cerebral focus. Occasionally, I felt Mr. Arriola overplayed dynamically, producing some unduly harsh sounds along with some rather distracting foot stomping, but I would take his commitment any day over its opposite. The excitement of the evening was, after all, palpable.

After intermission came an assortment of what one might call curiosities. Liszt’s shortest composition “Prélude omnitonique” (about six seconds long) was summarized by the pianist’s announcement that “every birthday party deserves a gag gift.” All jokes aside, Liszt was in many ways a visionary (as one might see in a more serious vein in the “Bagatelle sans Tonalité” and other works), and a listener enjoyed this break from the pyrotechnics. After some laughter, the Prelude was replayed (a nice touch) as an introduction to “Vagyodas Amerika Utan” (“Longing for America”) by the late Liszt proponent Ervin Nyiregyhazi (1903-1987). It was a welcome discovery for those of us who know the name Nyiregyhazi mainly as a controversial pianistic figure. Also most welcome was Liszt’s introspective “En Rêve (1884-85) played with sensitivity. In addition we heard Fantasia in D (2011), a work Mr. Arriola commissioned from Harrison Gross, a 17-year-old student at the school where Arriola is a pianist. It was a touching gesture.

Liszt Magyar Rapszódia No. 12 (Heroïde élégiaque), an earlier version of the Hungarian Rhapsody No. 5, closed the program with brilliance and spirit. An encore by the pianist cleverly fused Gershwin’s “Someone to Watch Over Me” with bits of Liszt’s Piano Concerto in E-flat (along with touches of Fats Waller and others). One could only guess that Liszt, the quintessential performer, would have approved. The audience certainly did.

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

Adam Gyorgy Pianist in Review

 Adam Gyorgy  pianist in Review
Stern Auditorium at  Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
November 13, 2011
 
Adam Gyorgy

Adam Gyorgy

 It is a testament to the gifts of Franz Liszt that, well into this year of countless 200th anniversary commemorative concerts, Liszt’s music still emerges as the inexhaustible treasure that it is. Having given several all-Liszt recitals just a few weeks ago, I had some hesitation about this assignment to review a Liszt program, but my faith in the diverse repertoire and acceptance of a wide variety of interpretive styles won out. As it has always seemed to me more meaningful to be reviewed by musicians with genuine experience in the repertoire being performed, that belief also helped offset any reservations. After all, a pianist is often the best judge of what sets (or doesn’t set) another pianist apart.

Adam Gyorgy is a young Hungarian pianist whose publicity sets him apart long before one enters the concert hall. Eye-catching photographs of the athletic Mr. Gyorgy in various exuberant action poses are matched by a biography that, in addition to the expected litany of credentials, traces his performing life to his early childhood tendency of drawing houses upside down, in consideration of the perceptions of others across a table. One imagines it was the same extroverted spirit that spurred the 2009 founding of his Adam Gyorgy Castle Academy in his native Hungary, also an effort to “give back” after all the help he received in his youth. Judging from Sunday’s performance, Mr. Gyorgy has much to give – it is only a question of how best to do it.

Starting from the high points, Gyorgy closed the evening by bringing brilliance and élan to a work that has been beset with kitschy associations for almost a century, Liszt’s Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2. While there are other works that offer a much nobler example of Liszt’s output, Gyorgy’s fresh and engaging performance dispelled preconceptions. Moving backwards from this last programmed work (in upside-down-house fashion), one enjoyed an excellent performance of Liszt’s La Campanella from the Paganini Etudes. Sure-fingered and seemingly effortless, this performance also had the greatest tonal and dynamic range of the evening. It seems Mr. Gyorgy has lived with both this Etude and the Rhapsody, and they could easily become “signature” pieces.

Preceding these last two pieces, Liszt’s Rigoletto paraphrase was delivered with polish and confidence, but it was not set apart from the standard that one has come to expect, technically and interpretively, from any number of today’s young conservatory graduates. A similar impression was left by the pianist’s straitlaced performance of Chopin’s Ballade in G minor, which also seemed somewhat anomalous on this Liszt tribute program, despite the fact that Liszt and Chopin were contemporaries.

What was more puzzling, though, was that Mr. Gyorgy chose to play the Chopin (or anything for that matter) directly after Liszt’s epic B Minor Sonata (the recital having no intermission), making the latter masterpiece somehow a mere prelude to increased brilliance. It seemed a disservice to both Chopin and Liszt to juxtapose them this way.  Some pianists (perhaps those who are trying to see and hear things from a lay audience perspective – the upside-down house) find the Liszt’s quiet ending problematic and awkward, hastening to follow it with more instantly gratifying works; even an untutored audience, however, can be trusted to grasp the depth of its final utterances and savor the silence. Perhaps this is a case for building the metaphorical house from the ground up and letting the audience come inside – there is integrity in that. An intermission would have helped.

What matched the Sonata’s minimized role on the program was the understated performance itself, subdued to the point where my companion asked whether there was a problem with the piano. The work seemed never to catch fire, with climaxes in the score (some marked triple forte) emerging muffled and monochromatic. The inherent wrestling and storming in this highly dramatic work were absent, while phrases needing to be ponderous or prescient became moderate and Mendelssohnian. Having encountered literally hundreds of renditions of this work, live and recorded, I found it difficult to embrace this one. The notes were mostly there, with admirably few smudges (not exactly unusual these days), but I needed more.

The recital’s opening “Improvisation” by Mr. Gyorgy did not help set up the Liszt either. Full of repeated primary harmonies in a sedate, New Age-type style, it seemed to dull the acute type of listening that the ensuing motivically complex Sonata requires. While quite pretty and delicately shaded, it bathed one’s ears in a wash of somewhat facile diatonic “heaven” that rendered almost meaningless the hard-won apotheosis of Liszt’s thirty minutes of high Romantic grappling. All in all, I will be eager to hear Mr. Gyorgy’s very promising playing again, but hopefully with more effective programming and more personally compatible repertoire choices.

An encore of the Liszt-Mendelssohn Wedding March (not the popular Horowitz version, but an extended transcription seeming to borrow from it) concluded the concert with spirit and humor.

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

Nataliya Medvedovskaya Pianist in Review

Nataliya Medvedovskaya Pianist in Review
Bargemusic, Brooklyn, N.Y.
August 4, 2011
 
Nataliya Medvedovskaya

Nataliya Medvedovskaya

 

In a series entitled “Here and Now,” pianist Nataliya Medvedovskaya offered a unique smorgasbord of modern works in the equally unique venue, Bargemusic. The “Here” is New York, the base of 10 composers on her program including herself (the exception being Jeremy Beck from Kentucky), and the “Now” stretched from the present to as far back as 1976, the date of Lowell Liebermann’s Piano Sonata, No. 1. The program notes state that Ms. Medvedovskaya researched several hundred compositions before choosing her program based on “fresh compositional ideas, arresting tonal values, and colorful, interesting harmonies.” While not all of these criteria came to mind equally with each piece, it was clear that the pianist herself felt complete commitment to each one, playing all with thoughtful involvement, projection, and polish. Each work was memorized, which is no small feat in newer piano literature and an unusual testament to the performer’s dedication. Many of the composers were present and expressed deep gratitude for this pianist’s performances, and listeners were grateful for a sampling of largely unfamiliar fare played with excellence.

With a change to the printed program, the opening work was Eugene McBride’s Nocturne, a modern, somewhat Scriabinesque version of the genre of Chopin and Field, with some intense development in its central section. It invited the listener inside, as befits an opener. Eugene Marlowe’s 3 pieces from “Les Sentiments D’Amour” followed: “Rougir Pour la Première Fois” (First Blush) “Melancolie” (Melancholy), and “Le Charmeur” (The Flirt), played with polish and élan. Marlowe’s accessible, breezy style was a good foil for what came next, some compositions by the pianist herself. Ms. Medvedovskaya’s 4 pieces, Scherzo, March, Lullaby, and Burlesque, proved effective miniatures showing significant influence of Shostakovich and Kabalevsky (my listening companion suggested “Shostalevsky”). Nothing disparaging is meant, as these are interesting character pieces, simply that Ms. Medvedovskaya’s years at the legendary Rimsky-Korsakov Conservatory of St. Petersburg, Russia have had their imprint. Next came Debra Kaye’s Visions Fugitives (2 piano pieces), inspired by Ms. Kaye’s stay in Taos, New Mexico. Though the title obviously refers to Prokofiev’s Op. 22, the music, in its evocation of a noble, open landscape, seemed to bear some kinship with Copland. It brought large emotions into small forms.

The first half ended with Lowell Liebermann’s Piano Sonata, Op. 1, composed at age fifteen (1976). An auspicious start to the impressive career that ensued, this work contains more than just seeds of future greatness, as it has moments of haunting beauty (especially the third movement, Lento), along with taut craftsmanship. Ms. Medvedovskaya gave it a cogent performance, with a particularly rousing fourth movement finale.

After intermission, there were again intriguing miniatures, Binnette Lipper’s two Bagatelles (from a set of seven) of which were selected the whimsical “Dalliance” and the extraterrestrial-inspired “Spatial Relations” both given vivid characterizations in the pianist’s interpretations. A Toccata by Jeremy Beck held its head up well next to its twentieth-century predecessors in the genre by Ravel and others, and Ms. Medvedovskaya paid attention to sound and balance throughout it, never stressing the sheer perpetual motion aspect. In contrast followed Rain Worthington’s “Hourglass,” a reflection on the passage of time. Reviewer Jack Sullivan from American Record Guide described Ms. Worthington’s music well, attributing to it a “Satie-like repose.” Ms. Medvedovskaya brought out the timeless, sinuous qualities with sensitivity. “Prelude” by Beata Moon recovered the recital’s momentum with the fluidity of music inspired by dolphins, and almost “New Age” in style, though with some immediately affecting Romantic harmonies. Ms. Moon’s second piece held me less, its climactic glissandi seeming a bit facile in context.

Some good old-fashioned fun brought the program back to earth with Robert S. Cohen’s two movements from “An Ant’s World.” “The Work Never Ends” set the scene as the busy world of ants, while “Invasion of the Anteaters” married the ragtime feel of some Bolcom works with dark humor reminiscent of Gounod’s Marionettes. It was a sped-up quote from Chopin’s Funeral March, though, that made for the most outright laughter. The pianist relished every bit of the fun, as did her audience.

The program closed with the first scene from Ms. Medvedovskaya’s own ballet based on “The Wonderful Adventures of Nils,” a fairy tale by Nobel Prize-winning Swedish author Selma Lagerlof. Soprano Felicity Graham narrated with Ms. Medvedovskaya at the piano, a fine collaboration with only one mishap of the text entering early. This vibrantly dramatic music is absolutely perfect for ballet, and one expects choreographers to be tripping over one another for the rights to it. I trust that the next time I hear the music I will also see it fully realized, as it is currently under commission, we are told in the notes. Meanwhile, one’s appetite was whetted. Fireworks from across the river joined in seeming celebration of its final notes, the end of a remarkable evening.

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

Luisa Sereina Splett pianist in Review

Luisa Sereina Splett pianist in Review
Weill Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
May 26, 2011

For a promising pianist in her twenties making her springtime debut at Weill Hall, Luisa Splett chose a program that was surprisingly autumnal. Opening with one of this reviewer’s personal favorites, Medtner’s quietly haunting “Sonata Reminiscenza” (from Op. 38 “Forgotten Melodies”), Ms. Splett played with a delicate, measured sound and a cerebral restraint that allowed the composition to reveal its own wistfulness, as if she were simply hearing it from afar. Showing minimal physical movement or romantic liberty and taking barely a nanosecond of rhythmic license, she might have elicited an initial description of being cold or mechanical, but by the end she had conveyed the piece with the purity of a still life painting, an artwork in which the beholder needs to take an active interpretive role with no predigesting or pandering. A strict adherence to each beat, which might also have seemed wooden at first, convinced me by the end that it enhanced the piece, evoking loss and the passage of time, as the work’s title and message suggest. The tone throughout was beautiful, thoughtfully prepared and mellow, though I did want more range at times. It was ultimately an unusual and moving performance, ending with a sense of surrender that was extremely poignant. It would be tedious to enumerate the skills, years of study, and international concerts that helped hone this performance, but suffice it to say that Ms. Splett had an early start, having been born to a family of musicians in Switzerland, and that she studied in Chile and Russia, where she is now preparing to defend a doctoral dissertation on the work of pianist/composer Emil Frey.

More retrospective and introspective music followed, namely the oft-ignored Ninth Sonata of Prokofiev, the last one he completed, around six years before he died. After the violent, biting, and sorrowful qualities of Prokofiev’s “War Sonatas,” the Ninth Sonata (Op. 103 in C Major) stands in complete contrast as a work of serenely narrative quality and less overt drama. Relative to the pyrotechnics in the earlier sonatas, it is far subtler in its demands on the pianist, though requiring imagination throughout, especially in its wittier moments. For this reason, one at times one wanted more contrast and projection from Ms. Splett, but her polish, as seen in the Medtner, was again outstanding. She showed such meticulous attention to the score that a keen, trained listener could probably take dictation from her performance and reproduce the exact score. This quality, along with choice of repertoire, may not easily gain the adulation of lazy or impatient audiences, but it should win the attention of purists and sincere musicians.

Schubert’s mature and meditative B-flat Sonata formed the second half of the program, another “last” of genre, composed in the final year of Schubert’s life. Ms. Splett handled it with what was starting to emerge as her signature serene polish, while also allowing the listener to plumb its depths in its darker moments. It was a fitting close to a unique and beautiful recital.

Once again, it is hard not to comment on how unusual it is for a pianist in the early years of a career to unify a program with what amounts to a theme of looking back in reflection. Understandably, many pianists play debuts that announce, “Here I come!” in displays of brilliance and drama designed to counter an attention deficit, but Ms. Splett is simply not one of them. It is not that she played it “safe” with her choices, as pianists who play these works well know, but that she simply put her program conception first, with intelligence, integrity and the perspective of an old soul. It was a memorable evening from a dedicated artist.

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