“Treasures of Jewish Art Music: St. Petersburg School and Beyond”

Louis Arques, clarinet, and Milena Zhivotovskaya, piano

Klavierhaus, New York, NY

April 24, 2022

It is always an exciting prospect to hear artists I’ve not heard before and always a thrill to explore lesser-known music. To do both at the same time is a double joy, and that is just what I experienced hearing Klavierhaus’s “Treasures of Jewish Art Music: St. Petersburg School and Beyond” with Louis Arques, clarinet, and Milena Zhivotovskaya, piano, neither of whom I had heard before. The recital was part of an appealing series called Sunday Evenings at Klavierhaus, and as it was live-streamed and posted on YouTube, you can enjoy it here: Treasures of Jewish Art Music

Several composers on the program have gained increasing attention in the established repertoire in recent decades, but they are all still woefully underplayed. It is thus quite refreshing to see a whole recital dedicated to Mieczyslaw Weinberg (1919-1996), Alexander Krein (1883-1951), Grzegorz Fitelberg (1879-1953), Joseph Achron (1886-1943), and Jacob Weinberg (1879-1956) – and especially with the addition of a work by the pianist herself, Milena Zhivotovskaya (b. 1986) in her Three Pieces for Clarinet and Piano (2006, revised 2020).

The program starts with Mieczyslaw Weinberg’s Sonata for Clarinet and Piano, Op. 28 (1945). It is a work with the unmistakable imprint of Shostakovich throughout, and that is no coincidence, as Shostakovich was a strong force in young Weinberg’s life (and in helping him against Soviet persecution, following Nazi atrocities). Opening with a plaintive clarinet solo, the first movement emerges from silence into what resembles a narration of uneasily shifting moods. The duo takes us through this music with polish and ease. Mr. Arques’ long-breathed phrases are ideal for this music, as is his wide dynamic range. Ms. Zhivotovskaya is an excellent collaborator, supportive and rock steady without being self-effacing, and the unity is impressive throughout this work and the entire concert.

The second movement Allegretto begins with a childlike simplicity with more than a tinge of dark irony before the clarinet breaks free into klezmer-esque outpourings. Mr. Arques’ expressiveness is a joy to behold. He is a marvelous clarinetist, and Ms. Zhivotovskaya is a great match for him. At one point where a “conversation” develops between piano and clarinet,  Ms. Zhivotovskaya manages to match the clarinet timbres perfectly. The final Adagio movement begins with a long somber introduction of piano alone before the clarinet takes a solo role – and each conveys its tragic mood well, with distant rays of light penetrating at times.

On a side note, I want to address an issue of growing concern in live (or streamed) classical music concerts, involving the need to bring the music as close as possible to audiences, as they experience it in the moment. Especially with less familiar repertoire, if there are no program notes, a bit of spoken background or even a flash of interpretive insight shared in advance can make a difference in bringing a piece closer to audiences’ hearts and minds.  While I, as a reviewer assigned to this concert, have the luxury of poking around, learning more about each piece, and hearing it twice to absorb it (and that, after conservatory training, doctorate, etc.), many can be left scratching their heads. Mr. Arques, a fine and communicative speaker, does take a moment to share some biographical information on Mieczyslaw Weinberg after his piece, but to have to hit the “rewind” button mentally to apply it retroactively is less than ideal. Also, though Mr. Arques does share thoughts on the Holocaust and Ukraine towards the end of the concert, they come just before the final work, which in a sad fluke of timing is actually a festive piece. Alas, such comments could have set the stage well for the opening work. Speaking afterwards may be preferred by many musicians (perhaps for their own musical concentration), but increasingly audiences can benefit from a bit of guidance. Now that post-pandemic audiences are clamoring for a live experience, it is our precious chance to reclaim them from years in deadening cyberspace.

For the remainder of the program works are introduced briefly prior to playing, and Mr. Arques introduces next the Three Ornaments, Op. 42 (1924-27), by Alexander Krein. Three Ornaments, originally a set of three songs without words set to syllables ah and la, is ideally suited to transcription for a wordless instrument, and it works well on the clarinet. The first is dreamy and Scriabinesque, while the second hearkens back more to Krein’s klezmer background. The final piece is rather elusive, but has something of a resemblance to Debussy, not shocking for its day. The two performers convey its mysterious brooding well, though its final surge and sudden ending still leave the listener perplexed. One would love to hear the performers’ thoughts on this enigma as well.

Next come some highlights of the program, first Grzegorz Fitelberg’s colorful pair of pieces entitled To the Wedding, as arranged for clarinet by Simeon Bellison. The first piece is inspired by preparation for a wedding, with its tones of solemn ritual, and the second is a joyful dance. The performers project the moods here well, and the dance adds a welcome note of celebration to the program. Joseph Achron’s hypnotic Hebrew Lullaby (1912) casts a spell in its arrangement from violin.

To introduce her own work, Three Pieces for Clarinet and Piano (2006, revised 2020), Milena Zhivotovskaya speaks briefly about its history, its commission by noted clarinetist Larry Guy, its premiere at the Manhattan School of Music, and its revision. “I draw my inspiration from, some of it, from music of Stravinsky and also Berg,” says Ms. Zhivotovskaya, announcing the individual pieces as Prelude, Toccata, and Romanza. This set is a fine addition to the clarinet-piano repertoire and should draw the interest of many performers. The Prelude is movingly meditative at the opening before moving to a faster pace with piano clusters – and rapid passagework and trills from the clarinet –  before its quiet close. The ensemble work is excellent as ever, and the piece fits this duo’s gifts well. The Toccata that follows is full of bravura excitement, with buoyant 3-3-2 rhythms and jazz-inflected musical language, and the Romanza is filled with hypnotic piano figures, with some extended techniques for clarinet.

To close the concert, we hear the festive Canzonetta by Jacob Weinberg (1879-1956), given a winning performance. Incidentally, the Canzonetta was arranged, like the Fitelberg, by the remarkable Simeon Bellison (first clarinetist of the New York Philharmonic, among other distinctions). It elicits a standing ovation, after which the duo offers an encore called The Maypole, also by Jacob Feinberg – a perfect lagniappe for this time of year!

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

Troy High Jazz Ensemble and Troy High Symphonic Band, Brian P. Nutting, Conductor;

Troy High Percussion Ensemble, Jacob A. Greenwood, Conductor;

Troy High Freshman Orchestra, Troy High Combined Concert/Philharmonic Orchestra, and Troy High Symphony Orchestra, Wendy Stuart, Conductor;

Troy High Combined Cadet/Concert Band, Brian P. Nutting and Jacob A. Greenwood, Conductors

Rose Theater, Frederick P. Rose Hall, New York, NY

April 25, 2022

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presented another one of its trademark musical spectaculars this Monday with no fewer than seven ensembles of orchestra and band musicians –  amazingly all from one school, Troy High in Michigan –  and the spirit was jubilant. In a three-hour-long evening of classical, jazz, Broadway/film, and popular music performances  – some quite expert – these youngsters from Troy and their music directors proved themselves a credit to their hometown and state.

The evening kicked into high gear right away with the Troy High Jazz Ensemble (some twenty strong) playingJeff Bunnell’s Ten Brothers, led by Brian P. Nutting, who moved suavely to the side to showcase the young players. Far from micromanaging, Mr. Nutting gave a few snaps of the fingers, and the group launched their Big Band era sound with smooth sax soli, precise percussion, and high polish all around. Cole Porter’s I’ve Got You Under My Skin (arr.Dave Wolpe) followed, featuring some impressive vocal work by Mia Simone and Varun Ganapathy, both of whom fared well even against some occasionally overwhelming ensemble volume. Stevie Wonder’s Overjoyed (arr. Mark Taylor) featured excellent work by solo tenor saxophone (unfortunately uncredited as with many of the evening’s soloists), and this ensemble’s set was concluded by Rich Woolworth’s Blue Light Special, with players no longer in their chairs but sitting on the edge of stage – all in all, a blast (pun intended)!

It is not easy to go in reverse chronology after a Big Band sound to the more delicate sonorities of the eighteenth century, but the Troy High Freshman Orchestra under conductor Wendy Stuart established their separate tonal world commendably for Mozart’s Symphony No. 29 (arr.Thomas Lajoie). The transparency of this music can be rather unforgiving given the inevitable intonation issues which one knows to expect at the freshman level (particularly in the upper strings in softer sections), but as the music continued the ensemble gained in unity and focus.The contemporary selections, from Soon Hee Newbold’s adventurous Equuleus to Richard Meyer’s modally-colored Minotaur, were evocative with their colorful, mythological themes and seemed to capture the performers’ imaginations (and thus the audience’s as well). Ms. Stuart is to be congratulated on leading what I counted as forty-three string players in this challenging fare. Kudos to all!

Also under Ms. Stuart’s direction was the Troy High Combined Concert/Philharmonic Orchestra, with thirty-one string players.The first movement (Allegro Moderato) of J. S. Bach’s Brandenburg Concerto No. 1 (arr. Lynne Latham) was given a vigorous account.Justin Hurwitz’s Music From La La Land (arr. Robert Longfield) followed the Bach remarkably well – with its sequences hearkening back to those same days (long before “La La Land” existed), and Shostakovich’s famous Waltz No. 2 (arr.Paul Lavender) concluded this group’s offerings. The latter added that mixture of bitter darkness with almost circus-like energy that the Russian master exploited often (aptly unsettling in the midst of our current events), and the players seemed swept up in its spirit. In all three selections the cello section seemed to this listener to outweigh the upper strings a bit at times, but it actually benefitted the Shostakovich somehow.

The Troy High Symphony Orchestra followed, sixty players strong (again under conductor Wendy Stuart), and they took on the fourth movement (Allegro Giocoso Ma Non Troppo Presto) of Joseph Suk’s Serenade For Strings. It seemed a somewhat surprisingly ambitious choice, but they handled it well, with energy and not too many glitches. What must have been a last-minute program change caused some disorientation to follow, as we were expecting from the printed program to hear Paint It Black (Mick Jagger & Keith Richards, arr. John Reed For The Hampton String Quartet) but instead were hearing George Walker’s Lyric For Strings. Those in the know recognized George Walker’s 1990 expansion of the second movement of his own String Quartet No. 1,  which he wrote while still a student at the Curtis Institute of Music (1946). Originally entitled Lament, it had been dedicated to his grandmother, a former enslaved person, and is profoundly moving. At any rate, the ensemble played it with appropriate reverence before proceeding with Paint it Black, also played well. The symphony offerings ended with Tribute to John Williams, crafted by arranger Paul Lavender on themes from Star Wars, Jaws, Raiders of the Lost Ark, Harry Potter, Superman, and E.T.– all good fun, and well done!

As the evening wore on, the hazards of such long concerts became apparent, as audience members started coming and going at will, as if in a day-long festival, checking phones in the interim as well as during the music. There is an answer to this distraction, which would be to keep each ensemble’s offering a bit shorter – and the audience would be able to focus accordingly. Additionally, if the stage set up could somehow be streamlined that would spare everyone as well. Not everyone can listen in a focused way for three solid hours without flagging (and undoubtedly there were some non-musicians present mainly to hear “their” person).

Fortunately for everyone the last groups were rousing enough to counter most fatigue.  The Troy High Combined Cadet/Concert Band under Brian P. Nutting played a light and fun (much truncated) arrangement of Gershwin’s Rhapsody In Blue (arr.Michael Story), after which conductor Jacob A. Greenwood led the same group in an energizing version of Karl L. King’s Broadway One-Step (arr. John P. Paynter). Mr. Nutting returned for Rossano Galante’s The Wishing Well, but what really brought the house down was their performance of Bob Gaudio’s Highlights From Jersey Boys (arr.Michael Brown). It was hard not to dance in the aisles to it! Songs from the group The Four Seasons were Walk Like a Man, Big Girls Don”t Cry, Ragdoll, Oh, What a Night, and Can’t Take My Eyes off of You.

The Troy High Percussion Ensemble under Jacob A. Greenwood then took the stage withEric Peel’s harrowing piece, Escaping A Nightmare, a tour de force which featured some outstanding mallet work. One can only imagine if these players are so good now, how great they will sound in several years!  

To close the evening we heard Troy High’s excellent Symphonic Band (fifty-five strong and under Brian P. Nutting again). Their playing of  Meredith Willson’s Seventy-Six Trombones (arr.Leroy Anderson, ad. Jay Bocook) was just right for their big healthy sound, and Selections from Aladdin by Alan Menken (arr.John Moss) brought new life to these familiar melodies. An excellent flute solo (again, alas, uncredited) introduced Stephen Schwartz’s Popular (From The Broadway Musical Wicked, arr. Jay Bocook) and as the icing on the cake we heard Robert Sheldon’s Metroplex: Three Postcards From Manhattan, a dramatic tribute to New York City, including a musical depiction of a wild taxi ride through the metropolis. Cheers to a great finale, with hopes that no one had quite such an “exciting” taxi ride while here! Congratulations to all!

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

A compilation of audio and video recordings by Solomon Mikowsky and 75 of his piano students and alumni

Joseph Patrych, Artistic and Technical Director

March 2021

For the past fifty years, Manhattan School of Music faculty member Solomon Mikowsky has been a nurturing presence behind pianists who have garnered prizes, accolades, and teaching posts throughout the world. As Mr. Mikowsky reached his 85th birthday last March, the idea arose, credited to master recording engineer Joseph Patrych, to compile performance videos by 75 of these students, past and present in a birthday tribute. Mr. Patrych served as Artistic and Technical Director for the project, and the resulting video is amazing.

There is no way to match in words the cumulative effect of hearing these 75 pianists (many in live concert) – let alone a way to imagine the joy and pride a teacher must feel in having taught and guided them all – but suffice it to say that the reader needs to see it to believe it. The video is linked here: Solomon Mikowsky Birthday Celebration

Being assigned to hear all 75 seemed a daunting assignment for this reviewer, but despite playing time of over three hours of music, there winds up being hardly a dull moment. Thanks no doubt to Mr. Patrych, the styles skillfully alternate (“from Rameau to Rzewski” as the subtitle states), with judicious excerpting and fadeouts to move things along.  A nitpicker might object to the truncating of classics and some strange juxtapositions (such as the middle of a Bach Partita movement to the finale of Tchaikovsky’s Piano Concerto No. 1), but such criticism would be missing the point. In its entirety the video resembles a potluck feast, with each musician bringing a favorite dish, each unique (with sometimes just a taste), and the result is a dreamlike retrospective greater than the sum of its parts. Rare is the teacher who can cultivate such a range of musicianship with so many personalities, but Mr. Mikowsky has done so and deserves great admiration for it.

Repertoire includes – though not presented in chronological order – Baroque, Classical, Romantic, and Impressionistic styles, as well as more “modern” music, for lack of a better term. As one might expect with a teacher strongly committed to music of Cuba, there are some Cuban offerings as well as a fair helping of music from Spain. In addition there are excerpts from concerti, segments from orchestral and chamber ensembles, and transcriptions of all kinds (even electronic). It is a richly kaleidoscopic collection.  For simplicity’s sake, we’ll not describe the zigzagging program “blow by blow” (lest the reader get whiplash) but just group pieces in the most organized way possible.

To open there is J. S. Bach. Fittingly the video begins with Solomon Mikowsky at age 13 playing Bach’s Fantasy & Fugue in A Minor, BWV 944, taken from a 1949 recording on a Chickering piano, (with several photos of him from his youth onward supplying video content), and the transfer to digital from reel-to-reel is surprisingly good. The playing is intelligent and assured, with excellent contrasts and energy. One can already hear in it the same virtues that grace the Bach of Mr. Mikowsky’s students, including Simone Dinnerstein in her Two-Part Inventions – a personal, romanticized rendition of the A Minor followed by a fleet-fingered F Major – and Daniel Hart, whose crisply voiced excerpt of the Toccata in D Major leaves us wanting more. Equally individual are other Bach contributions including the Capriccio from the Partita No. 2 brightly articulated by Kyu Yeon Kim, the Prelude and Fugue No. 1 in C Major (WTC I), shaded sensitively by Yuan Sheng, and the  Chromatic Fantasy & Fugue, BWV 903 contoured caringly by Weiwei Zhai. Less frequently played works add a welcome freshness, including Bach’s Capriccio on the Departure of a Beloved Brother, played pensively by José Luís Castillo, as well as music of Bach’s most famous son, C.P. E. Bach, whose Württemberg Sonata No.1, Op.49, is interpreted dramatically by Maxim Anikushin.

Adding to the Baroque repertoire is Scarlatti’s Sonata in F Major, L.494 played by Robert Buxton who savors its characteristic leaps and piquant dissonances. Interestingly its bite emerges as a bit tame due to its placement after a piece by Sebastian Currier (b. 1959) entitled Scarlatti Cadences & Brainstorm, exploiting the leaps and repeated notes of its eponymous keyboard master (so much so that it might have been preferable to hear the actual Scarlatti first). At any rate, the latter is played quite effectively as well by Saúl Ibarra Ramos.

On the topic of 20th and 21st-century music, there is a healthy representation here, including Annie Gosfield’s Piano & Baseballs performed – with a baseball and mitt striking the keyboard – by Jenny Qionyang Chai. It is hard to watch and hear for a devotee of the piano’s lyrical qualities, but it certainly does add an unforgettable element of spectacle. Percussiveness and lyricism combine in the Cuban contributions, Yalil Guerra’s Toccata (composed 2013), played persuasively by Willany Darias, and Brouwer’s Boceto No. 7 Cabrera Moreno played compellingly by Jiayin Li (and which your reviewer favorably covered earlier this season). Ahmed Alom sounds simply brilliant in Elliott Carter’s Catenaires, and the closeups of his hands in live concert add to the electricity.

Also in a modern vein, Sophiko Simsive is dauntless in Rzewski’s challenging work, The Days Fly By (from The Road) in memory of its composer who died in 2021. Elina Christova projects the haunting beauty of Autumn Elegy, Op.15 (1922) by Bulgarian composer Pancho Vladigerov, and from the same decade we have Busoni’s thorny Toccata played with ferocity by Yeontaek Oh and filmed at the Concours Musical International de Montreal, as well as Szymanowski’s Mazurka, Op.50, No.14 played by Zoe Pian-Chowdhury  (only in Pre-College, but with an intelligent grasp of the style and language). Two Debussy pieces from the Children’s Corner suite (1908) bring us over to the Impressionists, and then we hear The Snow is Dancing played enchantingly by Chi-Ying Hung and an excellent performance of Dr. Gradus ad Parnassum by Eleni Moon (Pre-College).

Also from the earlier 20th century and turn of the century (and with the understanding that many works categorized here fall in several categories) come a large number of works from the great pianistic world of Prokofiev, Rachmaninov, Scriabin, and Blumenfeld. We hear Inesa Sinkevych diving into Prokofiev’s Piano Sonata No. 6 with rhythmic energy, Albert Kim in a bracing excerpt from the Sonata No. 8, and Rexa Han in a highly athletic rendition of his Toccata, Op.11.

From Rachmaninoff, we enjoy Ren Zhang’s recording (with still photo) of the final part of a live performance of Rachmaninoff’s Polka de V. R. – played freely and brilliantly in a style reminiscent of the “Golden Age” of pianism. Among Rachmaninoff’s Preludes we hear Wael Farouk (whom I’ve reviewed several times in amazing stretches of repertoire) in a passionate performance of the C Minor, Op.23, No.7, as well as Hayk Arsenyan in a beautifully dreamy G Major, Op.32, No.5, and Jovianney Emmanuel Cruz in a lyrical excerpt from the D Major, Op.23, No.4. Moving to the Etudes-Tableaux, we hear Edward Neeman in an excellent performance of the A Minor, Op.39, No.6.

Kirill Gerstein is exceptional in Blumenfeld’s Etude for the Left Hand, Op.36 – and though sadly it is only an excerpt, we are left wanting more throughout this video, and it is a good excuse to continue following these pianists! Klara Min is exquisite in Scriabin’s Prelude, Op.11, No.21, and Ruoting Li offers still more Scriabin with her sensitively played Album Leaf, Op.45, No.1.

Among Russian selections, the first taste comes very early in video from Alexandre Moutouzkine in the finale of Tchaikovsky’s Piano Concerto No. 1 with the Israel Philharmonic. Mr. Moutouzkine plays from the climax to the final blazing octaves and roar of the crowd, and it reminds us that among the exciting moments for Mr. Mikowsky’s students are many involving orchestral and chamber collaborations.

Other exciting performances with orchestra include Saint-Saens Concerto No. 2 played by Rowena Arrieta at the Tchaikovsky Competition in 1982 and the same composer’s Concerto No. 5 played with passionate commitment by Sofya Melikyan in Spain. Peter Fancovic and the MSM Chamber Symphony are in fine form with an excerpt of the Mendelssohn Concerto No. 1 in G minor (reminding one never to underestimate a student orchestra when it is from a top conservatory), and the cadenza from Schumann’s Piano Concerto is admirably handled by Chia-Hui Lu.  A segment of Gershwin’s Concerto in F is played with sensitivity by Aliaksandra Beliakovich, and a section of Ravel’s Piano Concerto in G is delivered with aplomb by Chun Wang (at the 59th Concurso Internacional de Piano Premio Jaén). These youthful performances have an electricity that reaches us more than most of what we hear from studio recordings.  

Among less frequently heard works for piano and orchestra, we have a small impressive slice of Beethoven’s demanding Choral Fantasy from Youngho Kim as well as one from the Schnittke Concerto for Piano & Strings played admirably by Adam Kosmieja with the Capella Bydgostiensisess.

There is a clip of one small chamber collaboration, a superb performance by Pei-Shan Li with the Bowdoin Chamber Players in Schumann’s magnificent Piano Quintet, Op.44, and also a lovely duo with Aaron Shorr and another unnamed pianist in Rachmaninoff’s Romance from the 2nd Suite for 2 Pianos, Op.17.

This is perhaps a good point for transitioning to the music inspired by ensembles but played solo, in other words piano transcriptions, of which there are several here. This video compilation reflects just how important piano transcriptions have become, and there are some gems included.

Perhaps the most unusual transcription offering is the one of the Saint-Saens Rondo Capriccioso, Op.28 originally for violin, but arranged and performed as a solo piano piece by Kenneth Jiang on his YouTube channel called Piano Turtle X. An aerial view of his hands on keyboard combines with floating light patterns above – a clear embrace of 21st century technology!

Among the better-known transcriptions, we hear the Gershwin-Wild I Got Rhythm played with elan by Olga Vinokur, the sparkling Mendelssohn-Rachmaninoff Scherzo from A Midsummer Night’s Dream given a brisk ride by Beilin Han, and the well-loved Glück-Sgambati Melodie From Orfeo, played devoutly by Angelika Fuchs.

La Valse of Ravel, famously demanding, is taken on with zest by Sophie Zhang, and the underperformed Godowsky transcription of Rameau’s Tambourin enjoys the skillful treatment of Mijung Lee. Rimsky-Korsakoff’s Flight of the Bumblebee as embellished by Rachmaninoff and then Cziffra, is among the more over-the-top transcriptions, and it is given an over-the-top intensity to match by Jie Yuan.

From Liszt we hear the Paraphrase on Verdi’s Rigoletto played with self-assurance and composure by Wenqiao Jiang (Precollege), the Rossini-Liszt: William Tell Overture played excitingly by Khowoon Kim (at the International Franz Liszt Piano Competition Weimar Bayreuth), and the Wagner-Liszt Liebestod from Tristan and Isolde, played with tragic heft by Charis Demaris.

Once one enters the realm of Franz Liszt, the boundaries between transcription and composition blur, as the composer transcribed his own works; in any case, it would be a shock if such a compilation as this did not contain plenty of original works of Liszt. Sure enough, we hear his Totentanz, played with fire by Minhae Lee, and the central “love scene” section of the Mephisto Waltz No. 1 played very expressively by Tatiana Tessman (to be commended for not merely playing the brilliant “warhorse” passages). Among Etudes, we hear part of Waldesrauschen given a breezy reading by Yoni Levyatov, the fiercely difficult Mazeppa tackled by Chen-Shen Fan, the Paganini Etude No. 6 given fine fingerwork by Emily White, and a praiseworthy home recording of La Campanella by Jingjing Wang. 

Of Chopin as well, there is a fair amount. Of Etudes we hear Ian Yungwook Yoo delighting in the “Black Key” Etude Op.10, No.5 (which actually benefited from a rather steely sounding Kawai piano), and Kookhee Hong in a strong performance of the C-sharp Minor, Op.10, No.4. Of Nocturnes we hear Jonathan Floril in the Eb major (Op.55, No.2) starting in medias res but leaving us wanting to hear its entirety, and Martin Soderberg embracing the singing opening (and a bit of the stormier middle section) of the F major, Op.15, No.1. Daniela Bracchi gives a a driving performance of the Scherzo No. 3 in C-Sharp minor, Op.39.

For Schumann (along with the Concerto cadenza and quintet previously mentioned) we hear Guangshou Tian in a small slice of the Symphonic Etudes, Op.13 (Variations IX & X). He projects his musical segment well, as does Yoon Lee in the Fantasy in C Major, Op.17 which she imbues with expressiveness.

The only Franck of the evening is a section of the Chorale from the Prelude, Chorale and Fugue, but it is lavished with care by Robin Freund-Epstein.

Among Classical period works, Beethoven’s Bagatelle in E-Flat major, Op.33, No.1 is given a delicious interpretation by Adam Kent who conveys its spirit in an especially witty, gently playful way. Of Mozart, we hear his C Major Sonata, K. 330 given a thorough reading by Bai Yang and his Rondo K. 494 from Audrey Axinn on fortepiano, with more of the embellishing we heard in the Mozart compilation reviewed here a few weeks ago (The Twinkle Project).

Among lesser-known classical composers, we hear a relatively rare sampling of music by Matéo Albéniz (1755-1831) – not to be confused with the more famous (but unrelated) Isaac Albeniz (1860-1909). Sining Liu takes on his Sonata in D Major quite effectively, and we are grateful.

Returning now to Spanish and Latin American influences (which one guesses are rarely absent among Mr. Mikowsky’s teaching), there are just a few works left so far unmentioned. Three are by Isaac Albeniz, including Triana from the Suite Iberia played by Gustavo Díaz-Jerez – with playing as compelling as recalled from when I reviewed his DVD of the entire Suite a few years ago. We also enjoy a beautiful performance of El Puerto in the able hands of Zeze Xue (also reviewed earlier this winter) and from Ruiqi Fang, who lets the percussive qualities of Navarra come to the fore.

From South America we have only La niñas by Carlos Guastavino of Argentina (1912-2000), but Allison Brewster-Franzetti plays it with gusto and a strong projection of the lush harmonies.

Coming full circle to Cuba, along with the Brouwer and Guerra pieces mentioned earlier, we hear 2 Danzas by Cuba’s beloved Ignacio Cervantes (1847-1905) played engagingly by Misha Namirovsky, and a piece by Ernesto Lecuona (1895-1963) entitled A la antigua from pianist Ana Karina Alamo who plays it with intense involvement.

Last of all, we hear not another Cuban work but the work of a great Cuban, Solomon Mikowsky himself, whose Scarlatti Sonata in E major, L.23 is a perfect close to this voluminous project. It was recorded in 1948, when the pianist was just twelve years old (from reel-to-reel recording with a Chickering piano), but it already reveals masterful phrasing and a sensitive harmonic awareness. Though it is easy to say such things in hindsight, one can already hear in it his great journey ahead, his understanding of human moods and differences, his explorations, and his triumphs. The reluctance to let the music stop is felt in his most special ritardando at the close – and we trust the music never will.

Bravi tutti – and feliz cumpleaños, Maestro Mikowsky!

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

Mozart “Ah, vous dirai-je, Maman” Variations, KV 265: Six Sets of Video Performances by Solomon Mikowsky and Piano Students (including Alumni and MSM Faculty)

Original idea by Ahmed Alom (BM student), Administrative Director and Coordinator

Joseph Patrych, Technical Supervisor; Asaf Blasberg, Videographer

March 2021

Pianophiles everywhere, take heed! If you’ve ever thought there is “one way” to play Mozart, or if you’d like to explore multiple styles and approaches but without combing the Internet, you have a treat in store! All on one webpage (The Twinkle Project) at the Manhattan School of Music website, there are six video compilations dedicated to what is called The Twinkle Project, including performances by 50 pianists (though the website states the count is 47), each playing a variation (or two or three of the twelve) from Mozart’s famous Variations for Piano, K. 265, on “Ah, vous dirai-je, Maman” (the French folk song from which the “Twinkle, Twinkle” tune was taken a half a century later). It is a mammoth project, a feat of organization and collaboration, and a moving and awe-inspiring celebration to see and hear fifty pianists of diverse ages, nations, and styles, uniting in tribute to Mozart, with the common ground being their association with the Manhattan School of Music –  in particular with master teacher Solomon Mikowsky, who himself performs the theme for each set.

As Mr. Mikowsky states on the website: “When my gifted piano student, Ahmed Alom (BM ’21), alerted me to his idea of a video-recording of Mozart’s “Twinkle” variations performed in collaboration with 11 of his classmates, I immediately realized that this project would be an ideal vehicle for an expression of gratitude to the school to which we all owe so much: MANHATTAN SCHOOL OF MUSIC! Shortly afterwards, I decided to expand it to also encompass many alumni, including the seven current members of MSM’s piano faculty.  This has allowed me to renew contacts with students who studied with me from as far back as 51 years ago: more than 5 decades!” He continues to say, “The most rewarding aspect of this MSM multi-pianist collaboration is the inspiration provided by the great composer, making the participants realize anew Mozart’s genius and the artistic challenge that performing 16 measures of his music entails.”

Indeed, anyone who has ever said “it’s as easy as Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” (referring to the nursery song) probably does not know Mozart’s twelve scintillating piano variations on this theme (published in 1785), and the wide range of techniques and expression that this work encompasses. A perfect pandemic project for an assemblage of conservatory pianists performing virtually from locations all over the world, it was completed March 2021, under the guidance of recording veteran Joseph Patrych, with videographer Asaf Blasberg. It remains available at the link above, a testament to resiliency of musicians during the pandemic and of loyalty to their teacher, colleague, and alma mater. As cheerful as much of the Mozart composition is, one may need a box of tissues while watching these pianists, some in slippers, playing on instruments ranging from at-home electronic keyboards to uprights and grands, some clearly borrowed, some by necessity untuned, and all coping valiantly despite the blows of pandemic lockdowns and quarantines.

Having been assigned to review this project, I faced several challenges. Clearly there is no way to address thoroughly all fifty pianists on six separate videos (with some overlap among them), so there will be just brief mentions of some highights; all fifty pianists, however, are listed at the end of this review.

Also challenging was the issue of the very premise, which Mr. Mikowsky himself addressed, asking, “Can both unity and variety be established with this number of performers …?” Well, to riff on the famously simplistic definition of musical “variations” as a work in which “something is constantly the same throughout (the theme) and something is constantly different (the treatment of it),”  this collaboration was naturally destined to feature more of the “different” aspect than the unity – and that is just fine. The recognizability of “Twinkle, Twinkle” guarantees that no listener can lose the thread (so a good choice of theme!). Furthermore, as we hear pianists from Australia, Bulgaria, China, Cuba, Cyprus, Georgia, Greece, Israel, Korea, Russia, Slovakia, Spain, Taiwan, Ukraine, and the USA, playing a single piece, the spirit of this entire project emerges as one of “e pluribus unum” – a very moving experience.

Opening with the “Twinkle” theme, octagenarian Solomon Mikowsky demonstrates that his ability to perform is clearly undiminished, and with his meticulous portato articulation he sets a stately tone. Alumni Jie Yuan and Kookhee Hong follow expertly, maximizing the expressiveness of highpoints while retaining the flow.  Alumna Yoon Lee takes the most liberties with time so far, with what might be called a more Romantic approach, and it is welcome. Inesa Sinkevych, projects the next variation with more driving metric precision and energy, still with considerable variety for such a short segment, and Chi-Ying Hung,brings polish and nuance in all regards, letting Mozart’s wit shine through.

Simone Dinnerstein dazzles in Variation 6, with light and fleet fingerwork (as many know from her Bach Goldberg Variations recording), and Kyu Yeon Kim is also brilliant, with attention to the character of each  detail bringing spirit and personality to Variation 7. Bai Yang‘s 8th Variation has a delightful mischievous quality to it, interesting especially in comparison with José Ramón Mendez who takes a more solemn approach – both convincing! Ren Zhang delivers the 9th variation with easy mastery and a beautiful ritardando at the end – as several do – which raises the recurring question as to whether that’s  a drawback of having multiple performers share a piece (one player’s turn is coming to a close, hence a ritard is natural, but then the piece continues, so it perhaps oughtn’t to wind down thirteen times). In any case, this project must be experienced differently. So, onward to Variation 10, we see Adam Kent, sporting a Mozartean white wig (and listed in one caption as Adam “Adameus” Kent!) just in time to remind us that, despite his highly professional music-making, this is all in the spirit of fun!

To follow, the absolutely meltingly beautiful Variation 11 is made more so in the hands of Yuan Sheng, who creates such a spell that one might forget to look at the score and realize that one reason that his ornaments sound so utterly graceful is that they are largely his own. Mastery follows mastery with Alexandre Moutouzkine‘s final variation, made more interesting  with some featuring of alternating registers in an almost stereophonic effect – a fittingly rousing close!

Three encores are included in the first video, starting with Aaron Shorr playing his own “Alla Diabelli e Leporello” (inspired by Beethoven’s Diabelli Variations). It is an inventive classical tribute and is played here with flair. The second encore, for piano and orchestra (here the Havana Lyceum Orchestra), is entitled “Mozart Dreaming of Havana.” It starts with Simone Dinnerstein playing Mozart’s Sonata in G, K. 279, then fading and developing with the orchestra into a dreamlike fusion of Mozart and Cuban popular song, with various orchestral section leaders taking turns at solos. It is a wonderfully spirited and fitting tribute to Mozart, Cuba, and to Mr. Mikowsky’s Cuban roots, which have a great influence on his students. Under that same Latin influence, the third encore is a song called “Mojito” sung in Chinese by Mr. Mikowsky’s doctoral student Jiayin Li, whom I had the pleasure of reviewing in her piano recital in late January. Not only is it extraordinary to hear her versatility of instrument and style, but her singing has an infectiously playful spirit that could “win the Internet” as they say. I’d recommend grabbing a mojito and hearing it. Smiles are guaranteed.

Time limitations will keep the following video summaries shorter, but suffice it to say that in the second video (which is called “set 1” in the upper left corner, all the videos being labeled differently on the site from the captions), we hear more nicely refined phrases from Aaron Shorr, humorous Beethovenian bursts of sound from Yoni Levyatov, some well-projected offbeat melodies from Edward Neeman, and a lovingly rendered Variation 11 from Charis Dimaras. Mr. Dimaras seems so well suited to its pensive quality (like Yuan Sheng), just as Peter Fancovic seems ideal for the grand final variation, that one starts to wonder how the musical “casting” was done. If there is not a musical version of Casting Central, there ought to be one, and a good teacher can fill that role, which may be what has happened here.

By the time one hears the third video (called “Set 2” in the captions), one can be overwhelmed with emotion by some of the out-of-tune instruments and trials that one knows are facing these fine players. We hear impressive playing from all, but notable are the attention to detail from Gloria Lin, the authoritative precision from Olga Vinokur, the nicely sustained lines from Chun Wang, and the almost operatic phrasing from Kyriakos Sourollas. Emily White‘s Variation 6 is brilliant, but she resists excesses of speed, with a moderation of tempo that allows one to experience the details fully. Clarity of imitative entrances marks the playing of Willany Darias, very musical and unselfconscious. Tapered edges and elegance characterize the performance of Elina Christova who follows. Just as one is marveling at the kaleidoscopic range of qualities among all of these pianists, we hear Audrey Axinn who has not only freely ornamented Variation 11 but has practically rewritten it. One might feel a yen to hear a more straightforward reading if this were a single-pianist performance of the entire piece, but as it follows multiple readings of the same music, it comes as a fascinating refreshment. Yungwook Yoo displays tremendous finger technique in the final variation. Capping off the video is a fantastic encore played by (and one assumes composed by)  Jennifer Chu. Entitled “Mozart in Havana” (and dedicated to Mr M’s hometown) it is essentially the “Twinkle” melody cleverly set over a Cuban beat. It is wonderful to see such spirit and such “thinking outside the box” especially in a time of being relegated to living in boxes!

The fourth video (called “Set 3” in the captions) brings some more current students, and all were excellent. Some standouts include Daniel Hart with nice offbeat phrasing as the music invites, Zoe Pian-Chowdhury who finds room to be personal and expressive where it is not easy to do so, plus the fiery Jiayin Li and very sensitive Sophiko Simsive. Ahmed Alom, whose brainchild this all was, finishes the set in fine style, followed by that fabulous “Mojito” encore again!

The fifth video (called “Set 4” in the captions) features MSM faculty and alumni, and one can only think how inspiring it must be for their current students of these pianists to see and hear. After another theme by Mr. Mikowsky, we hear the commanding playing of Elena Belli followed by more wizardry from Alexander Moutouzkine (including some devilishly tricky ornaments). Daniela Bracchi, Inesa Sinkevych, and Robin Freund-Epstein all uphold a high standard, and the energies of Jiayin Li and Adam Kent enliven it all.

In the sixth and final video (“Set 5” in the captions) we hear several pianists we’ve heard already, including Jie Yuan, Simone Dinnerstein, who now adds Variations 7 and 8, showing her more lyrical gifts (along with the previously heard Variation 6), Yuan Sheng, who shows a heartier side in Variation 4 (as well as the previously heard Variation 11), and Ren Zheng, with his crisp and taut Variation 9. In and amongst these performances also we hear some enchanting trills from Po-Wei Ger in Variation 3, and a very young Pre-college student, Eleni Moon, playing Variation 5. It is especially heartening to see the youngest generation taking up the tradition, as it bodes very well for the future of music.

In addition (we knew someone was missing!) we hear Wael Farouk, whom I’ve had the pleasure of reviewing on several occasions and who continues to be a joy to hear. He brings life to Variations 2, 10 (including some special ornamentation), and a grand No. 12 to cap off the entire project.

Congratulations are in order to everyone involved! Congratulations to Solomon Mikowsky on this astonishing array of very individual talents, congratulations to those organizing and recording it all, and congratulations to MSM!

The complete listing of performers alphabetically is (not including Solomon Mikowsky, who played the theme): Ahmed Alom, Audrey Axinn, Elena Belli, Daniela Bracchi, Elina Christova, Jennifer Chu, Willany Darias, Charis Dimaras, Simone Dinnerstein, Peter Fancovic, Ruiqi Fang, Wael Farouk, Robin Freund-Epstein, Po-Wei Ger, Erica Guo, Daniel Hart, Kookhee Hong, Chi-Ying Hung, Tzu-Wei Kang, Adam Kent, Kyu Yeon Kim, Tatuka Kutsnashvili, Mijung Lee, Yoon Lee, Yoni Levyatov, Jiayin Li, Gloria Lin, Sining Liu, José Ramón Mendez, Eleni Moon, Alexandre Moutouzkine, Edward Neeman, Zoe Pian-Chowdhury, Yuan Sheng, Aaron Shorr, Sophiko Simsive, Inesa Sinkevych, Kyriakos Sourollas, Olga Vinokur, Chun Wang, Emily White, Hangli Wu, Jojo Yan, Bai Yang, Yungwook Yoo, Julian Yu, Jie Yuan, WeiWei Zhai, and Ren Zhang.

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

Jiayin Li, piano

Samuel Torres, Percussion

Mikowsky Recital Hall, Manhattan School of Music, New York, NY

January 25, 2022

Call it making lemonade when life deals out lemons, but the Manhattan School of Music has made the best of the pandemic situation with an array of live-streamed performances that would make a diehard concertgoer want to stay home and listen. https://www.msmnyc.edu/livestreams/

Among performances this week was a recital by excellent young pianist Jiayin Li, a pupil of Solomon Mikowsky, esteemed professor for whom the evening’s venue was named. Ms. Li is a candidate for the Doctor of Musical Arts Degree at MSM, and though this recital was listed as a “non-required” one, her program of Cuban piano music goes hand in hand with a dissertation she is writing on the subject, including an annotated collection of the music performed. Under the guidance of Solomon Mikowsky, Cuban-born and a longtime proponent of his country’s music, Ms. Li clearly chose her dissertation topic well, and this listener could hardly wait to hear the eighteen listed Cuban composers from the nineteenth, twentieth, and twenty-first centuries.

The program enjoyed a festive start with Niña con violín (Girl with a Violin) by Ernán López-Nussa (b. 1958).  Supported with excellent percussion by Samuel Torres on bongos, Ms. Li dove headlong into the music’s spirit,  with none of what might expect to be opening nerves.  The music enjoyed dreamy moments, but with support from Mr. Torres there was an undercurrent of dance rhythms throughout.

Going back to the 1800’s Ms. Li gave appealing renditions of Two Contradanzas by Manuel Saumell (1817–1870), first Los ojos de Pepa (Pepa’s eyes) and then El pañuelo de Pepa (Pepa’s Handkerchief). Direct and unassuming folk-like music with rather reined-in use of syncopation, these are close in style (and vintage) to the music of Louis Moreau Gottschalk (who enjoyed several trips to Cuba). Each has a rather self-effacing ending which Ms. Li tossed off with appropriate understatement. Well done!

Next, moving on to Ignacio Cervantes (1847–1905) came two contrasting Danzas, the soulful Adiós a Cuba (Farewell to Cuba) and to follow it No llores más (Don’t Cry Anymore). Adiós a Cuba was given a sensitive, involved performance, nostalgic and impassioned without being excessive or maudlin. To follow it with the consoling No llores más was a beautiful programming touch, and the playing was captivating.

As a side note, it is hard to write even a review of these pieces without expounding on the details of these interesting composers and how their lives intertwined; it is therefore nearly impossible to see how a doctoral candidate could resist writing program notes for this concert. They would surely have been helpful and enjoyable to many.

A festive spirit resumed with La conga de medianoche (The Midnight Conga) from Six Afrocuban Danzas by Ernesto Lecuona (1895–1963). For those who immediately associate Lecuona with his Malagueña or other popular pieces, La conga de medianoche is rather different in its jazzy evocations of a tropical midnight procession, with spicy dissonances adding a good bit of humor.

In a drastic mood change (great programming leaving not a dull moment), we heard Canción de cuna del niño negro (Lullaby for the Black Child) by Amadeo Roldán (1900–1939). A haunting lullaby with plaintive melody over a hypnotic tritone bass pattern, this lullaby is not one for carefree dreaming (its spirit, though not its harmonic language, bringing to mind the Delius Lullaby for a Modern Baby and other ponderous “modern” berceuses). Ms. Li established its haunting atmosphere from the start and held the audience spellbound.

The tempo and mood lightened up for Con un viejo tres from Sones by Carlo Borbolla (1902–1990). Though one might have expected something more sedate with the word “viejo” (old), a “tres” is a kind of small Cuban guitar – and one can still make a spirited sound on an old instrument! Ms. Li’s interpretation verged on the brisk as did some other pieces – and she could certainly afford more taking of time – but there may have been reasons to move the evening along.

This Sones selection was in any case well played, delivered like a wry story, with surprising twists and turns and the occasional “arched brow” musically. It led perfectly to Danza cubana No. 10, “Machacando” (Cuban Danza No. 10, “Pounding”) by Félix Guerrero (1916–2001). Despite the suggestion of “pounding” Ms. Li played with what was emerging in her performances as a characteristic elegance. Perhaps the translation set up an expectation of something more unleashed, but in any event, it was a joy.

What one expected next (as it was printed in the program) was Berceuse campesina (Peasant Lullaby) by Alejandro García Caturla (1906–1940). It is a piece close to my heart, so fortunately I knew something was amiss with the program order when it did NOT come next. (If the very brief opening remarks from the stage manager had perhaps been to clarify a program change, they were nearly inaudible, and so one was relying on the printed program.) Not to be curmudgeonly, but it is not pleasant to be floundering around to disentangle program order while listening (especially as an assigned reviewer), so the downloadable program ought to have been changed. Suffice it to say that one hopes, particularly in the case of a doctoral candidate, that leaving the audience in a haze of confusion is the opposite of what one wants to do in sharing music.

What actually came next was Zapateo Cubano (Cuban Stomping) by Héctor Angulo (1932–2018). It was alternately jaunty and lilting,  all in all, a winning performance – and it was after the Angulo that we heard the beloved Caturla Berceuse, and it was played with soulful involvement, a pleasure.

Somehow one missed the Guajira (Peasant Song) Harold Gramatges (1918-2008) – was it omitted? Just another communication glitch for the lost audience? In any case, the program moved on like quicksilver to what this reviewer knew to be Cabrera Moreno, No. 7  from Ten Bocetos (Sketches) by Leo Brouwer(b. 1939). Ms. Li dove into it with ferocity, seeming to relish its motoric patterns. In a similar vein was Tumbao by Tania León (b. 1943), also displaying a powerful finger technique and rhythmic precision.

Just when one couldn’t imagine Ms. Li continuing without a “breather” she proceeded to the tour de force that is Caleidotropic (Kaleidotropic) by Guido López-Gavilán (b. 1944). Complete with extended techniques, strumming inside the piano, tapping, and dramatic vocal chanting (with some remarkable singing as well), Ms. Li fearlessly “knocked it out of the park” as they say, leaving her audience dumbfounded before intermission.

The second half of the concert, by comparison to the first, was a relative breeze. A piece by Jorge Lopez Marín (b. 1949) entitled Marileny started somewhat strictly in two voices, then opening up into a freer, jazzier quasi-improvisatory exploration. Following Marileny was a piece called ¡Que Confusión De Tonos! (What A Tonal Confusion!) by Andrés Alén (b. 1950) – actually much less confusing than figuring out what piece was what on the program –  but with tonal shifts well within the range of what one has come to expect from 20th-century music (and 21st). All in all, it was an interesting romp through tonal surprises and “good clean fun” as they say. Habanera Del Ángel (Angel Habanera) by José María Vitier (b. 1954) was just as its title suggests, a soothing and gentle habanera with an intense middle section.

Nearing the program’s end we heard the third piece from El Libro De Música De La Ciudad Celeste (The Music Book Of The Celestial City) by Juan Piñera (b. 1949).  Once again it appears that there was a slight mix-up, as the title of No. 3 was listed as Hacia Una Región De La Luz (Towards A Region Of Light), which seems to be a different movement from what we heard. It seems that what we heard was Como un sol que se derrumba (still No. 3). At any rate, Ms. Li showed in it more of her impressive motoric energy and passion.

Rounding out the program as it began, we enjoyed more percussion collaboration with Samuel Torres on congas joining Ms. Li in, Pan Con “Timba” (Bread With Timba) by Aldo López Gavilán (b. 1979). After a bravura percussion introduction from Mr. Torres – truly virtuosic! – the two musicians took us on one final and fantastic Cuban romp. It was a wonderfully festive finish to the evening, and only the iciest soul would not want to dance to it in celebration.

Ms. Li concluded the concert by graciously thanking her professor in a clearly well-deserved tribute.  Bravi tutti!

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

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

Zeze Xue, pianist

Bruno Walter Auditorium at Lincoln Center, New York, NY

November 19, 2021

A large crowd came to hear young pianist Zeze Xue this week in a program that included Chopin’s B minor Sonata, Debussy’s Ballade, selections from Goyescas of Granados, Tan Dun’s Eight Memories in Watercolor, and the Liszt Concert Fantasy on Bellini’s La Sonnambula. There was much to admire and enjoy, from the brilliance of the Liszt to the multicolored evocations of the Tan Dun, and the warm and receptive audience appeared to appreciate it all, rewarding the pianist with loud ovations.

Opening with Debussy’s much neglected Ballade, Mr. Xue captured well its mood of reverie. I was struck by his dramatic projection of the opening phrases which pulled the audience, after the noisy lines to show vaccination cards and all, into his quiet conception. His shading was sensitive and nuanced, and his immersion was compelling as he let the spell of the piece take hold. His expressive physical gestures, which some might call extraneous, did serve to punctuate phrases visually, probably intensifying the experience for some.

We heard more of this atmospheric playing on the second half in Quejas, o La Maja y el ruiseñor (“The Maiden and the Nightingale”) and Los requiebros (“Compliments”) of Granados, both very well suited to this performer. His expressiveness bloomed in the direct lyrical lines of the lamenting Maja, projecting well its plaintive spirit. In Los requiebros, a deceptively thorny piece to play, the thematic lines are easily outweighed by secondary pianistic material, like a too heavily laden strand of jewelry, so there were moments here where one wanted more prioritizing of the line over the decoration; all in all, though, it was effectively played.

A performance highlight for this listener was the set of Tan Dun’s Eight Memories in Watercolor. From the somber opening, Missing Moon, through the meticulously articulated Staccato Beans, attention to detail was excellent. That same level of devotion continued, from the rustic melancholy of Herdboy’s Song to the magical Floating Clouds and the vivid splashes of the finale, Sunrain. It is just such personal commitment that can set a young artist apart from his peers, so though one has tended to associate these pieces with Lang Lang who premiered them, they could become signature pieces for this pianist.

Though the Chopin Sonata in the first half had had some distinctly individual qualities as well, it somehow did not fully win over this listener as a whole. There was a slightly labored quality in the first movement (sometimes described by musicians as “notey-ness”), as if it had not been lived with quite long enough to gain natural freedom and flexibility (and this quality was underscored by the dryness in pedaling). There were also some quirks of tempo and tone that broke the flow, hindering the cohesion of this already sprawling movement, and though one still saw the physical hand gestures demarcating phrases, the aural experience did not always match the visual (with perhaps the hall piano being to blame at times).  

Surprisingly in the Chopin, the extreme slowness of the Largo – and even the Trio section of the Scherzo – gained points for bravery from me, though they “pushed the envelope” as the saying goes. Performances of the Scherzo movement usually maintain some momentum throughout, but here it felt like the Trio section within was its own separate slow piece. In the Largo, that slowness suspended time nearly to a halt. The pandemic perhaps has the world adjusting everyone’s sense of time, but in any case it was refreshing to hear a performer unafraid to try a slower than usual tempo in a slow movement. Some adjustments to pedaling and tone in sustaining the line will help make this interpretation more convincing. The Finale brought the work to a rousing close just as it should, bringing the music to the “five-minute” break that substitutes for full intermissions lately.

The entire evening was capped off in bravura fashion with the Liszt’s Fantasy on Bellini’s La Sonnambula, and here it seemed that one could best hear the benefits of Mr. Xue’s illustrious roster of teachers, including Craig Sheppard at the University of Washington and Solomon Mikowsky and William Wolfram at the Manhattan School of Music, from which he graduated with an MM degree in 2019. It was an impressive performance, with passion and grandeur.

Zeze Xue clearly has much going for him – not the least of which is a winsome stage presence – so it will be interesting to follow him. Still more winsome was his encore of Debussy’s La fille aux cheveux de lin, a touching close to an auspicious recital.

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

Robert Fleitz, pianist

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

October 18, 2021

Pro Musicis presented pianist Robert Fleitz in a highly auspicious debut before a large masked audience this Monday at Weill Hall, continuing their established tradition of presenting outstanding musicians on prominent world stages as well as in charitable venues. A program that included three world premieres, plus works by some lesser-known composers (including five women) was immediately intriguing. The only two works by “mainstream” composers were the Bach Invention No. 1 (BWV 772 in C Major) and the magnificent Brahms Klavierstücke Op. 118, with the balance of the program being music by Unsuk Chin, Maria Martines, Timo Andres, Krists Auznieks, Julia Perry, Julie Zhu, Lūcija Garūta, and Jeffrey Mumford.

Robert Fleitz, a graduate of the Juilliard School (B.M. and M.M.), lists in his biography the usual awards and prizes, one of course being the Pro Musicis 2021 International Award which resulted in this performance; there seems very little, though, that is usual about this eclectic pianist.

It was an unusual choice to open with Bach’s little Invention in C Major, which is heard more at young students’ recitals than professionals’ programs, but one guessed that the Invention was programmed to illuminate the next work, entitled Etude No. 1 (In C), by Unsuk Chin (b. 1961) a pupil of György Ligeti. That guess was correct. In a surprise “non-ending” Mr. Fleitz let the penultimate dominant harmony of the Bach fade without resolution (part heresy, part genius), and omitted the final “C” harmony to proceed attacca to the Chin Etude. That expected tone C, desired but unheard, transformed the way one heard the subsequent Etude. As Dr. Richard Rodda points out in his excellent program notes, Ms. Chin’s Etude is not so much “In C” as much as “On C” with the pitch C repeated amid “increasingly dense constellations of flickering sound-points.” Those “constellations” can make this piece a challenge for the ears, but thanks to “C” being etched in one’s mind from the Bach, one felt its magnetic power throughout. It was a masterstroke of programming by an innovative musical thinker.

Apart from programming gifts, Mr. Fleitz proved to be an excellent pianist in diverse repertoire, including the next work, the Sonata in G Major by neglected Haydn pupil Maria Martines (1744- 1812). The playing was crisp and light with Scarlatti-esque brilliance that verged on breathlessness but stayed on course with hardly a smudge. The last movement was particularly exciting.

After this refreshing return to classicism, the program ventured again into the 21st century for the world premiere (Commissioned by Pro Musicis) of a beautiful work, Honest Labor by Timo Andres (b. 1985). As the composer writes, “Honest Labor attempts to uncover a kind of Transcendental satisfaction in routine tasks. A simple contrapuntal process gives rise to increasingly elaborate and expressive gestures, finally evaporating in an ambiguous haze.” I often find these days that the notes by composers are more evocative than their music itself, but I am happy to report that this music spoke as eloquently here, like a winding journey inviting closed eyes and reflection. Mr. Fleitz seems to have made it a part of himself, even in his printed comments which stated “I am grateful for the chance to share my honest labor with you, and look forward to hearing about where your path through this landscape led you” (the latter part referring to Jeffrey Mumford’s piece yet to come, “a landscape of interior resonances”).

Mr. Fleitz has the gift of being able to deeply internalize his music while projecting equally well his vibrant conceptions, so I was eager to hear his Brahms Klavierstücke, Op. 118. He did not disappoint. From the impassioned opening Intermezzo in A minor to the ponderous closing Intermezzo in E-flat minor with its Dies Irae thematic connection, he held his audience rapt through all six pieces. His pacing of the G-minor Ballade‘s central section was well-conceived, and his sensitive rendering of the Romanze, with its glimmers of Lydian, was magical. I didn’t always agree with his pedaling, which seemed overly generous at times (especially in the second Intermezzo, but also at times in others, leaving me wishing that his curiously active left foot would switch with his right), but this is a debatable and personal quibble. His youthful penchant for extremes also led to some arguably harsh high points in the final piece, but I would opt for passion with some excess any day over the weak tea of many other pianists.

After a five-minute pause (the new pandemic “intermission”), we heard another world premiere, Time Present by composer Krists Auznieks (b. 1992) who happens to be Mr. Fleitz’s husband. The background of this piece is a bit lengthy to summarize in a simple review, but suffice it to say that the piece married other-worldly harmonies (bringing some colors of Messiaen to mind) with flashes of Scriabinesque ecstasy, all a good match for Mr. Fleitz’s all-embracing pianism.

Prelude by Julia Perry (1924-1979) offered a bluesy detour and chance to hear a seldom heard composer, and it was followed by the world premiere of a piece entitled Other of Two by Julie Zhu (b. 1990), inspired (and accompanied by a lengthy description of) the Tunguska meteor event of Siberia in 1908. Mr. Fleitz conveyed well its eeriness, devastation, and desolation.

In a surreal change of mood, the program shifted over to 1920’s Latvia and Paris, via the lush late Romantic Prelude No 2 in E Major by Lūcija Garūta (1902-1977), a Latvian who studied with Cortot and Dukas and reflected still more Scriabin influence. Mr. Fleitz was a persuasive advocate for her work, as for all that he played, including the concert’s finale, the three-movement work, a landscape of interior resonances by Jeffrey Mumford (b. 1955). Mr. Mumford describes this work as “a celebration of the piano as a sonorous resonating chamber” and it certainly did put the pianist through his paces in fiendish feats of complex virtuosity (not to mention memorization).

A standing ovation prompted an encore, and Mr. Fleitz chose the third of the Improvisos Op. 18 by José Vianna da Motta, dedicating it to his mother on her birthday with special mention of her Portuguese parents. It was a beautiful return to folk-inspired music and a special way to bring “home” this musical journey. I would hear a Robert Fleitz concert again in a heartbeat and look forward to following his career.

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

DongYeob Kang, violist, YoungSung Park pianist

The Artist’s House in Seoul, South Korea

Streamed live and available on YouTube.com

July 26, 2020

Among the many valiant musicians who have kept music going through the pandemic, there ought to be a special award for those who fulfilled their commitments to live concerts – intrepid winners of “The Show Must Go On” awards. Noteworthy among such performers is Parisian-born Korean violist DongYeob Kang, who with pianist YoungSung Park performed a richly varied recital of Bruch, Prokofiev, York Bowen, and Paul Coletti (b. 1959) for a live audience of masked but enthusiastic listeners in Seoul, South Korea, July 26, 2020. That concert was live streamed and is still available via YouTube using the following link: DongYoeb Kang in Concert July 26, 2020

For detailed information on Mr. Kang the reader may visit his website www.kangviola.com, but for a bit of background, Mr. Kang has received an substantial list of prizes and distinctions, has performed in numerous well-known festivals and venues including Weill Hall at Carnegie Hall in New York (2018 debut), and is currently pursuing his doctorate with fellowships at the University of Texas at Austin. He is also a graduate of Indiana University as a student of Atar Arad and holds a Bachelor’s degree from Yonsei University in Seoul where he studied with SangJin Kim. In addition, he recently completed his Artist Diploma at the Colburn Conservatory of Music in Los Angeles where he studied with Paul Coletti, who composed two of the pieces on the program, Fantasia for Solo Viola and From My Heart.

Mr. Kang gets kudos for his choice of works on this sumptuous program, starting with the underperformed Romanze for Viola and Piano in F major, Op.85, by Max Bruch. Though scored for viola and orchestra, it works beautifully in recital with viola and piano. Mr. Kang’s sound here is warm and well-controlled, and he shows a true affinity for Bruch’s Romantic spirit. There are moments where one might want a bit more abandon, where some phrases seem to cry out for more momentum, but it is overall a pleasure to hear. It doesn’t hurt that this soulful 1911 work is being played on a soulful instrument from the same year, a 1911 Giovanni Battista Gaibisso viola.

Moving on to an arrangement by Vadim Borisovsky of Sergei Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliet, Op.64, Mr. Kang is again impressive. The arranger Borisovsky was himself a fine violist, a performer and professor at the Moscow Conservatory, and he knew well how to simulate the optimal orchestral range of colors with two instruments. This whole suite is a delight, and Mr. Kang seems to relish the virtuosity and wide variety of colors and timbres right from the Introduction. Brisk bowing and finger-work enhance the Young Juliet movement’s playful spirit, and the duo’s contrasting lyricism is effective as well. The third movement of the suite, the Dance of the Knights (also known as The Montagues and the Capulets), storms just as it should, with much credit going to the pianist YoungSung Park who sets the fierce tone of the opening chords, maintaining a sure orchestral foundation while synchronizing beautifully with the viola. Mr. Park again deserves praise for the final Balcony Scene where he is something of an unsung hero, unassumingly handling its complex textures and considerable demands. The two performers work admirably together. For Mr. Kang, what will raise this suite to an even higher level will be to let it transcend beyond the viola challenges to embrace an even broader orchestral conception. Part of that will include relaxing with some of the less intense viola parts to enjoy what “the rest of the orchestra”- i.e., the pianist here – does.

One of the highlights of the program, Paul Coletti’s Fantasia for Solo Viola, follows, essentially a three-minute cadenza with plenty of fiery display. Perhaps because of its solo improvisatory nature or the fact that Mr. Kang studied with the composer, Mr. Kang seems especially at home with this piece. It has a fresh, free-wheeling quality, and lots of panache. Similarly comfortable is the next work, From My Heart, also by Paul Coletti. Mr. Park rejoins Mr. Kang for this much more meditative piece, and the two seem to savor its nostalgic mood, somewhat reminiscent of an old film score with a helping of schmaltz. Some of Mr. Kang’s best playing comes here, honeyed tones with liberal stretching and absolutely no suggestion that any technical matters ever cross his mind.

The Phantasy in F major for Viola and Piano, Op.54 by York Bowen (1884-1961) caps off the program beautifully. I’ve long thought that the music of York Bowen is unjustly neglected, though some of his piano works have been recorded (by Joop Celis, Danny Driver, and perhaps most notably by Stephen Hough). Bowen’s work has a luscious heart-on-sleeve Romanticism with hints of Rachmaninoff, Delius, and others from the turn of the 19-20th century, but with his own distinct sound. This Phantasy is a powerful finale for any viola-piano team that can handle it, and the team of Kang and Park does so superbly. They bring lyricism and bravura playing together with unity of spirit and conception. Only some slight momentary roughness towards the end betrays any hint of flagging, and that says a lot for such a demanding program.

An encore follows, Contemplation, arranged after the Five Lieder, Op. 105, No. 1 by Brahms. Some may know the arrangement by Jascha Heifetz for violin, and though we are not told the name of the arranger here, this arrangement sounds similar, so it may very well have been simply adapted for viola. It closes the concert with a gentle prayerful feeling all too appropriate for the middle of the year 2020. Bravo to DongYeob Kang and Bravo to YoungSung Park!

A word to the wise for those who want to hear this concert: there is a silence of more than three minutes at the beginning (and I thought my computer was not working until I saw some motion on the progress bar), so perhaps skip to the 3:13 point (or closer to 4:00 to miss the tuning). Also, without some premium YouTube membership, there will be ads coming at the very worst points in the music – a crime. Let’s hope this duo will make a DVD soon.

The entire concert is at the presenters’ link posted in the first paragraph, but the reader can also visit Mr. Kang’s own YouTube Channel: www.youtube.com/DongYeobKang.

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

Personal Demons: Lowell Liebermann, pianist, in music of Liszt, Schubert, Busoni, Miloslav Kabeláč, and Lowell Liebermann, Steinway & Sons 30172

Turning in Time: Kinga Augustyn, violinist, in music of Elliott Carter, Luciano Berio, Krzysztof Penderecki, Grażyna Bacewicz, Isang Yun, and Debra Kaye, Centaur Records CRC3836

American Violin Sonatas: Ting-Lan Chen, violin; Nathan Buckner, piano, in music of Rubin Goldmark and Alexander Reinagle, Albany Records TROY1840

News of quarantines and lockdowns may accentuate what musicians have not been doing, but what some have been doing is quite exciting, and three recordings that landed in my mailbox are good examples. Two are of new or unfamiliar violin music (solo and with piano) released within the past few months, and one is a two-CD set of all solo piano music to be released February 5.

Though the three recordings are quite different, they all share the qualities of exploration – exploration of deferred personal repertoire dreams (or “personal demons” in the case of Lowell Liebermann’s CD), exploration of expanding roles as performer and composer (in Personal Demons as well as American Violin Sonatas), and the exploration of how our music connects us to other periods in history (in all three, but overtly in Kinga Augustyn’s Turning in Time).

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Starting with the upcoming release, it is an honor to recommend the double-CD set on the Steinway & Sons label entitled Personal Demons, featuring world-renowned composer Lowell Liebermann (lowellliebermann.com), one I’ve admired for several decades. Here he is heard in the role of pianist. Though there is nothing new about Lowell Liebermann’s pianistic strengths (as the idiomatic keyboard writing in his compositions will attest), Personal Demons marks his first solo CD in which he is the pianist, and he is outstanding.

In addition to playing his own Gargoyles, Apparitions, and Nocturne, No. 10, Op. 99 – an education for those who have played these – he offers a selection of formidable works by other composers. As Mr. Liebermann writes, “Personal Demons consists of music that I have been personally haunted by – pieces written by other composers that have preoccupied me and inspired me for most of my compositional career, ones that ‘I wish I wrote.’ Framing these are three of my own pieces that have special significance for me.”

Least known on the two discs may be the Preludes, Op. 30 of Czech composer Miloslav Kabeláč (1908-1979), which bear some kinship to the music of Kabeláč’s countryman Janáček. Kabeláč has a highly sympathetic interpreter in Lowell Liebermann, and these miniatures emerge as treasures. Some musicians may be inspired to purchase the set for these gems alone, but Mr. Liebermann closes the first disc with the hair-raising Totentanz of Franz Liszt, which he plays with ferocity – and then there’s disc two.

On the set’s second disc, after his own marvelous Apparitions, Mr. Liebermann plays the Variations on a Theme of Hüttenbrenner, D. 576, by Franz Schubert, a composer whose music he cherishes, as he reveals in his personal and informative program notes. The D. 576 Variations are striking for their harmonic twists and turns, and though some pianists (the relatively few who play them) tend to smooth things over as if to disguise what may be perceived as quirks, they are all consciously laid out here in what is a faithful and insightful performance.

As if these works were not already enough unusual fare to draw pianophiles, Mr. Liebermann includes the monstrous Fantasia Contrappuntistica (solo piano version) by Ferrucio Busoni. The latter is a notoriously massive undertaking, musically and pianistically – Herculean striving with Bachian inspiration at its core. To be frank, I’ve never taken to this piece and would probably only enjoy it upon consumption of some mind-expanding drug, but Mr. Liebermann’s version will undoubtedly take an important place alongside the not too numerous versions available. Bravo for taking it on – and with mastery!

For this listener, a high point was hearing the closing work, Mr. Liebermann’s own Nocturne No. 10, Op. 99, written in memory of the composer Gian Carlo Menotti. Between the potent lyricism of the composition itself and the expressive performance, it is extremely moving, making a fitting closing statement to follow so many pianistic adventures.

Speaking of adventures, one reads in the credits that Mr. Liebermann recorded these two discs in August and November of 2020, mid-pandemic, at the studio of recording wizard Sergei Kvitko in Lansing, Michigan; this was at a time when many were reluctant to step outside, let alone travel from the East coast. Congratulations are in order to all involved in this meaningful achievement.

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Switching gears to violin it is a pleasure to recommend the new CD Turning in Time (released by Centaur Records in 2021), featuring all solo works played by young violinist Kinga Augustyn, whose career I’ve followed for about a decade now (kingaaugustyn.com). Ms. Augustyn has the natural musicality, keen intellect, and highly developed technique to turn the thorniest of compositions into child’s play, and so it is hard to imagine a better advocate than she is for a program of such challenging violin works of the 20th and 21st centuries.

According to the author of the program notes, Ted Mirecki, the term “modern” in music is often used in a pejorative sense to denote “a radical departure from the past”, and in his words “this collection refutes that conception – it demonstrates that musical ideas, turning in time, represent a continuum over the past several centuries. Specifically, the spirit of J. S. Bach pervades many of the works.” (The latter is a worthy connection to strive to hear, though of course the listener hoping for something resembling Bach tonally may be surprised.)

Starting off with Four Lauds of Elliott Carter, (dedicated to musicians Aaron Copland, Goffredo Petrassi, Robert Mann, and Roger Sessions), Ms. Augustyn opens with a beautiful sound right from the start. One is reminded of yet another reason “modern” is sometimes used pejoratively, and the reason is that not every violinist is Kinga Augustyn! The screeching and scratching that some associate with the music of our time may often be due not to the compositions but to the players; Ms. Augustyn, though, has intonation so true and a tone so singing that one can imagine a listener actually humming a few bars of Four Lauds after hearing her. One is not told whether Elliott Carter (who passed away in 2012) ever heard Ms. Augustyn play these, but one can imagine that he would have been delighted to know and work with her.

Fortunately, two composers heard on this disc did meet this violinist, and two World Premieres of their works are presented here, the Capriccio (2008) by Krzysztof Penderecki (1933-2020) and the title work, Turning in Time (2018) by Debra Kaye (b. 1956).

The Penderecki Capriccio is highly virtuosic in what is described in the booklet notes as a “neo-Romantic” (imagine a Paganini work updated with wider range, playing behind the bridge, etc.). This piece seems absolutely tailor-made for Ms. Augustyn, who has recorded all the Paganini Caprices and could probably toss them off while catching a train. A 2013 photo in the CD booklet of a smiling Penderecki with Ms. Augustyn seems to foretell of this impressive premiere, though the notes don’t mention the details of whether he heard it or not before he passed away in 2020 (the recording sessions were in 2017, 2018, and 2019 at Martin Patrych Studios in New York, engineered by the much sought-after Joseph Patrych).

Turning in Time, the final track and title work for the CD, was written expressly for Ms. Augustyn, who requested from composer Debra Kaye that it make reference to Bach’s Chaconne from the Partita No. 2 in D minor, and it is a tour de force. It is (in the composer’s words), “21st century music periodically interspersed with Bach-like phrases, motifs returning in new variations, juxtaposing past and present, reflecting on things that have changed and what remains the same, in a conversation between the ‘then’ and the ‘now’.” Ms. Augustyn conveys all of this, and the highly expressive ending phrase from the Bach Chaconne itself leaves one with chills after so much dissonance. One can’t help thinking how interesting it would be to pair this in a concert with the entire Bach Partita No. 2 – what better way to illustrate the proposed continuum than to integrate eras and styles?

Other works on the CD are Luciano Berio’s Sequenza VIII (1976), an exhaustive exploration of an adjacent-note motif, Grazyna Bacewicz’s Sonata No. 2 (1958), given a lucid and cohesive rendition here, and Isang Yun’s compelling Bachian work, Königliches Thema (1976). As well-conceived as the CD is, each work on it deserves to be heard in its own space, which is another good reason for the serious listener to own the CD and spread out the listening. Brava!

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We’ve now recommended a piano CD followed by a violin CD, and we’ll close by recommending a disc of music for piano and violin, entitled American Violin Sonatas (Albany Records). It features World Premiere recordings of two works that are quite late in achieving this distinction, the Sonata in B minor, Op. 4 of Rubin Goldmark (1872-1936), and the Sonata in F Major (c. 1790) of Alexander Reinagle (1756-1809), composed around a century apart. The artists are violinist Ting-Lan Chen and pianist Nathan Buckner, who have performed worldwide, working with many of the greatest musicians of our day, and who are currently Professors of Violin and Piano respectively at the University of Nebraska-Kearney.

On top of offering the pleasure of musical discovery, this CD is important historically for filling in gaps in the discography of American music. If one wants to learn about American violin-piano concert music before 1900 (aside from a couple of other composers such as Beach and Foote), a key figure to know is Reinagle. He was central in Philadelphia musical life from his arrival to the US in 1786, and though some may know of his four largescale works dubbed the “Philadelphia” Sonatas, the Sonata in F recorded here has remained unknown in what is believed to be its intended form, due to a missing violin part, either lost or not notated (though there is a recording of it as a piano piece – and in comparing recorded versions, one will notice that the addition of a sustaining instrument affords a much more spacious feel, encouraging a slower tempo in the last movement and naturally adding variety of line and texture).

Enter pianist Nathan Buckner, who with some creative scholarship, imagination, and the musicological equivalent of time travel, created a violin part for it in 2015. One could almost miss from the liner notes that he was the one behind this completion, though his work qualifies as a kind of composing; many pianists might be announcing the upcoming publication of their “signature edition” but not here (though by the way, where and when will that printed edition be available?). Mr. Buckner describes the violin part as filling “the modest English role for the violin typical of Clementi’s work rather than Mozart’s more elaborate use.” In any case, a recital-worthy sonata has been reborn, and it received its recorded premiere just a few months ago in October of 2020.

All that background would be chiefly of theoretical interest without musical quality, but Mr. Buckner and Ms. Chen join in a seamless collaboration of polish and grace. They place the music front and center at all times, and it is a joy to hear. They enhance what the music has to offer, its thematic interest, thoughtful development, drama, and lyricism. The third movement has an infectious energy that brings Haydn and other Classical greats to mind.

In addition to the Reinagle, the CD features the premiere of Rubin Goldmark’s Sonata in B minor, Op. 4. For those unfamiliar with Goldmark, he was a pupil of Dvorak and a teacher in New York whose many illustrious students included Gershwin and Copland. He was Chair of Composition for the newly created Juilliard School starting in 1924 but sometimes is lost in history’s shuffle next to his musical uncle, Karl Goldmark. His Sonata in B minor is yet another great discovery, this time in a late Romantic vein, with some noticeable influence of Brahms and Dvorak for obvious reasons. It is a sprawling work, overflowing with impassioned phrases and harmonies and quite demanding for both instruments, but, thanks to the ample technique, sensitivity, and cohesion in the duo of Chen and Buckner, the performance invites the listener in to love it. One wants to hear it repeatedly (and really should in order to assimilate it fully) – especially that sumptuous second movement – so it will be one to own.

Both Reinagle and Goldmark were recorded in July of 2018, at the Foellinger Great Hall at Krannert Center for the Performing Arts, University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign, with excellent recording/engineering by Graham Duncan and Richard Scholwin. Collectors and music lovers may find the recording here and other major music CD vendors:

American Violin Sonatas.

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