Rorianne Schrade | New York Concert Review, Inc.

Six Corner Records presents Irving Artists CD in Review

Hiroko Nagahata, piano; Alexa Muhly, cello; Heather Thon Dahl, clarinet

IrvingArtists.com

Recording Engineer: Tyler Rice

Recording Studio: Transient Sound, Chicago

Recorded on: June 17, 18, 2019 (for tracks 1-4, 8-9), September 10-11, 2019 (for tracks 5-7)

A new CD in its pre-release form was sent to me recently for review, and it looks to be one that many will enjoy. Just over forty minutes (on the short side for a CD), it includes, apart from one trio arrangement, all solos and duos by Bach, Dvořák, Rachmaninoff, and Gaspar Cassadó, played by pianist Hiroko Nagahata and cellist Alexa Muhly. Ms. Nagahata and Ms. Muhly comprise the core duo of their Chicago-based ensemble called Irving Artists (alternatively just Irving), which they call a “flexible format” group. Their duo thus becomes a trio with the inclusion of clarinetist Heather Thon Dahl for an arrangement by Keith Murphy (a Chicago-based composer) of the Shaker melody, Simple Gifts, which concludes the CD.

Although no liner notes or tray card information were included in the review copy, some background on the two principal performers was offered. Hiroko Nagahata received a Doctor of Music Degree from Michigan State University, a Master of Music degree from Manhattan School of Music with Dr. Efrem Briskin, and a Bachelor of Music Degree from Kobe College, Japan. She gave her New York solo debut at Weill Hall (at Carnegie Hall) under the auspices of Artists International and has performed in a variety of festivals and series, along with her teaching and work with the Lyric Opera of Chicago and Choirs of America, among other organizations.

Ms. Muhly holds a Bachelor of Music degree from the Cleveland Institute of Music and a Master of Music degree from the Yale School of Music. She has performed widely in the US, Canada, and Europe, especially distinguishing herself in performances of the music of Frederic Rzewski (including with Mr. Rzewski himself) both through the Carnegie Presents series and for Chamber Music America conferences. She has also been principal cellist of the Chicago Chamber Orchestra and Kalamazoo Symphony.

This CD offers a rather unusual assortment of pieces, which the promotional material calls a “carefully curated set.” A listener may be hard-pressed to understand the reasoning behind combining these selections, but they certainly offer a variety of styles and timbres.

Ms. Muhly and Ms. Nagahata combine forces in the CD’s longest work, Bach’s Sonata for Viola da Gamba and Harpsichord in G major, BWV 1027, played here with cello and piano. The work is described in the duo’s promotional material as “rarely performed in modern contexts” – and it is true that, though the piece itself is hardly neglected, the most notable recent recording with piano rather than harpsichord may be that of Angela Hewitt with Daniel Müller-Schott, dating from 2007, and most available recordings involve harpsichord.

The rendering of this piece by the Muhly-Nagahata duo is commendably faithful to the score. The players show good ensemble work overall and seem comfortable with each other in matters of tempi. The second movement stands out for its unhurried tempo, which one could describe as courtly. The two musicians clearly revere this piece and it shows in their intense commitment to each note. Occasionally, the adherence to each eighth note in the piano part seems to go beyond steadiness to verge on a certain sameness that risks becoming tedious. This may be due to an effort to simulate the style of a harpsichord – though one wonders why that would be, after a special reference in the promotional material to the “modern” instrumentation. Though Bach’s greatness always comes through, whether via synthesizer or symphony, a modern pianist can tap his instrument’s dynamic gradations to achieve maximum fluidity of phrase, and not to avail oneself of that strikes this listener as a lost opportunity – but chacun à son goût, as the saying goes.

Meanwhile, on the topic of “commitment to each note” one hears an intensely soloistic sound from the cello that stands apart from the piano a bit too prominently for this listener (though perhaps this is partly due to recording levels). This quality is particularly noticeable in the slower movements, first and third (in this slow-fast-slow-fast format). The listener is at times moved to turn down the volume to avoid hearing stridency in the cello part, but consequently one loses the piano’s interesting lines. These are personal issues, though, in what is overall a praiseworthy addition to this work’s discography.

The musicians then separate for the next two next solo works. First Ms. Muhly plays the opening movement – the Preludio-Fantasia – of the Suite for solo cello by Gaspar Cassadó (1897-1966), Catalan cellist and composer. Ms. Muhly’s playing here is unfettered and self-assured, and she projects the movement’s inherent drama and emotion well. One would like to hear her play the entire piece.

A great sonic leap then takes the listener to a piano solo from Ms. Nagahata, Rachmaninoff’s Prelude in D major, Op. 23, No. 4 (listed as Op. 17 in what is surely just a pre-release typo). It is one of the great gems among the Preludes and is given a devout interpretation here. The restraint that in the Bach verged on regimentation succeeds here in preventing the heart-on-sleeve impatience that can spoil this piece’s beautiful arch. Though there are moments which, for this listener, could still be more fluid (and some melody notes that sound a bit punched out, perhaps due to recording levels), it is overall a beautiful rendition.

Staying with Rachmaninoff, this CD moves on to his much-loved Vocalise, played by both Ms. Muhly and Ms. Nagahata. One hears more of Ms. Muhly’s impassioned phrasing here, and it works well for this piece. She is supported by sensitive playing from Ms. Nagahata. It is one of the highlights of the CD for this listener.

The two then move to somewhat lighter fare with the Dvořák Slavonic Dance in E minor, Op. 46, No. 2 given a charming reading, before their final offering, Simple Gifts, arranged for trio by Keith Murphy, who teaches at Loyola University Chicago. Clarinetist Heather Thon Dahl joins the duo for this piece, adding an appealing tone to its folk-like opening, as well as later modal touches, polytonal effects, and klezmer-like episodes. As one might guess by now, the arrangement is not quite “Simple” despite its spare opening over a cello drone. On that score, kudos go to Ms. Muhly for achieving the twangy sound that evokes a distant didgeridoo or equally rustic instrument. This arrangement covers a lot of ground and offers a fresh addition to the many settings of this beloved Shaker melody.

The CD, entitled Irving, will be available in October through CDBaby, iTunes, Amazon for digital download and physical CD, and streaming on Apple Music.

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

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Jorge Ávila in Review

Jorge Ávila, Violin; Adrienne Kim, Piano

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

September 23, 2019

A splendid recital took place this Monday featuring violinist Jorge Ávila with pianist Adrienne Kim under the auspices of Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY). Anyone who has heard Mr. Ávila in his longtime role as concertmaster of the Distinguished Concerts Orchestra knows that he is a pro in that capacity – neither jangling ringtones nor fainting singers can ruffle him. His steady playing in countless orchestras (including pit orchestras) might almost lead one to expect the offhand, workaday sound that besets giggers, but such was definitely not the case here. Mr. Ávila is quite the soloist (with a healthy list of solo credentials to match – see http://jorgeavilamusic.com), and his commitment to this program of violin masterworks – Beethoven, Schumann, Chausson, and more – was clear.

Mr. Ávila and Ms. Kim opened with Beethoven’s Sonata for Piano and Violin No. 5 (F major, Op. 24 posthumously nicknamed the “Spring Sonata”). The balmy first movement opened with a particularly sweet violin tone and sensitive piano collaboration. Though there were moments where this listener found the violin sound perhaps a bit too robust, or the piano not enough (m. 11 and similar spots, where the melody switches instruments), such balance quibbles are somewhat subjective. The mutuality of phrase and rhythm throughout was that of a duo with many years of playing together. High points included the Scherzo’s trio section, timed with split-second togetherness and polish, and the fourth movement, Allegro ma non troppo, a final smile from Beethoven.

The premiere of a new work by Nic Scherzinger (b. 1968) followed. Entitled Imprint, it was dedicated to Mr. Ávila and Ms. Kim, and according to the composer is a short “song without words.” As Mr. Scherzinger explains it, “When I began working on this piece pianist Adrienne Kim suggested the title Imprint since Adrienne and Jorge have been performing together for so long. As chamber musicians, there is a certain “imprint” that performers make on each other that can only happen with time and experience, which I try to capture musically in this piece. When the aria begins, the piano and violin start as two completely different individuals, but as the music progresses, they slowly come together, having made imprints on each other.” The title and program notes led this listener somehow to expect more perceptible interchange of roles or musical material than one was able to grasp in a first hearing, but that said, the piece was beautifully atmospheric, combining long-breathed violin lines with an undulating piano bass, both parts gaining intensity throughout the well-paced journey.

Chausson’s expansive Poème for Violin and Piano, Op. 25 (1896) concluded the first half. This quasi-concerto, inspired by a Turgenev love story and the wizardry of the violinist Eugène Ysaÿe, is lush and extravagant. Violin technique is exploited to the hilt, from dazzling double-stops to stratospheric trills, and Mr. Avila seemed to relish it all. He was persuasively expressive, with a flexibility and variety in his vibrato that helped convey the musical message of each distinct phrase. More challenging, of course, is simulating the multitude of colors and timbres of the work’s orchestral origins, and to that end one again wished that the piano would have come a bit more to the fore. Perhaps some excess caution was attributable to the Steinway’s resonance (with lid open on the full stick), but one wanted still more of the orchestral textures to come through the piano part. All quibbles aside, the audience (a full house) seemed visibly to enjoy the performance and applauded resoundingly.

In Schumann’s Sonata No. 1 in A minor, Op. 105 (another work published as Sonata for Piano and Violin) the equal importance of parts was projected, and it was a joy to hear Ms. Kim’s excellent pianism combining with Mr. Ávila’s extroverted style to bring Schumann’s impassioned score to life. Except for some minor rough spots for Mr. Ávila in the third movement, the performance was outstanding, bristling with Schumann’s agitated energy.

Shorter works of Turina and Kreisler followed, closing the program almost as built-in encores. First the duo played Turina’s evocative La oración del torero Op. 34 (The Bullfighter’s Prayer, arranged by Heifetz), and they did it to a tee. The emotions of a matador before his fight were conveyed so dramatically that one could imagine the jitters, the colors, and the intense heat of the day. The music of Turina is one of the specialties of this duo, and they have recorded some of his work on a disc of Spanish sonatas (Centaur label).

The program closed with the much-loved Kreisler bonbon, Tambourin Chinois, Op. 3, played with perfect élan, spirited bowing, and the occasional delicious slide. There was consummate unity here, as befits such a longstanding musical pair. A standing ovation and much gracious bowing led to an encore of more Turina, now the Vivo movement from his Sonata No. 2. Mr. Ávila, not wanting to exhaust attention spans, assured the audience from the stage, “Don’t worry: it’s very short.” Indeed, two minutes more of Spanish fireworks flew by, and it was a joy. Cheers to this duo – and olé!

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

The Palisades School of Music Presents William Chen in Review

William Chen, piano

Merkin Hall, Kaufman Music Center, New York, NY

September 8, 2019

This past Sunday at Merkin Hall, sixteen-year-old pianist William Chen gave an impressive recital of extremely demanding works by Bach, Beethoven, Schubert, Chopin, Rachmaninoff, and Lowell Liebermann. Though I do not recall ever hearing about this pianist, he is clearly an outstanding young artist to watch.

The program was a large one which many professional pianists would be hard pressed to pull off after many more years of study, degrees, and concertizing than Mr. Chen has had. This is not to suggest that Mr. Chen has any shortage of credentials either, by the way, as his biography already lists numerous concerts throughout the world and a substantial list of awards (from the Bosendorfer and Yamaha USASU Competition, the New York Music Competition for Young Artists, the Kaufman International Piano Youth Competition, AADGT, Young Pianist Competition of NJ, New England Conservatory Preparatory Concerto Competition, and more – as well as being a Young Scholar of the Lang Lang International Music Foundation); one has to remind oneself, though, that he is still just in high school (at the Special Music School in NY), so to have conquered such a program reflects not only exceptional talent but a level of commitment that is extraordinary for one so young.

To open, Mr. Chen played Bach’s Prelude and Fugue in E-flat minor (WTC I) with solemn composure and attention to phrasing and tone. He allowed himself a prolonged wait before starting (as he did before almost each piece), and it was wise, not only to allow various ringtones and other noises to abate, but to draw listeners into the pianist’s musical realm. He let the somber opening sing and showed consummate tonal control and restraint in its pacing. The Fugue unfolded with clarity in each voice whether direct, inverted, or in one of the ten remarkable stretti. Some players exaggerate the subject’s fifths and fourths to the point of resembling foghorns, but Mr. Chen’s approach was both restrained and lyrical, creating the transparency of texture that is ideal for this piece.

Beethoven’s Sonata Op. 10, No. 3 in D Major followed in a performance that was hard to fault, honoring Beethoven with fidelity to the score and a persuasive projection of its drama and architecture. There was no shortage of pianistic prowess in the outer movements, but it was the slow movement, the tragic Largo e mesto, which impressed most. Here Mr. Chen showed that he can sustain the life of long lines even at a glacial tempo, leaving the audience with bated breath until the very last note.

For those craving fireworks, Mr. Chen gave Lowell Liebermann’s four Gargoyles an exciting ride before intermission. Explosive bursts enlivened the opening Presto, and the third (Allegro moderato) was positively shimmering. The powerhouse finale, Presto feroce, let out all the stops. If one wanted a bit more shape to the phrases in the second, Adagio semplice, ma con molto rubato, it may mean that this listener was getting a bit spoiled. All in all, the set made a fantastic finish to the first half, and one could hardly believe that Rachmaninoff’s expansive Variations on a Theme of Corelli, Op. 42, and Schubert’s notoriously difficult “Wanderer” Fantasy, Op. 15 were yet to come!

Before the two remaining large works, the second half opened with a sensitive rendering of Chopin’s Nocturne in D-flat Major (Op. 27, No. 2), which prospered from Mr. Chen’s keen ear for tonal beauty and mature phrasing, including the seamless blending of one tone into the next. It boded well for the Rachmaninoff Corelli Variations, with its many melodic outpourings.

The Rachmaninoff did not disappoint, and in fact one marveled again at this young player’s composure and mastery through some of its virtuosic passages. My handful of reservations included the need for still more softness where Rachmaninoff marked “pianissimo.” It becomes especially important where it marks a thematic return in Variations II and IV (the latter being admittedly difficult in the low register, but still worthy of care). Elsewhere, various infamous spots were handled with great skill (e.g., the left-hand double notes in Variation X), and even the oft-smudged Variation XX stayed reasonably on target. One may have wanted a bit more savoring of the incredible harmonization of Variation XIV, but again (pinching oneself), this pianist is not even out of high school. There will surely room for more spontaneous reverie in the years to come.

Perhaps adrenaline played a role in what seemed an emphasis on momentum, or perhaps at heart was some awareness that the “Wanderer” Fantasy still lay ahead – this program was, after all, very weighty for an average audience. Rachmaninoff himself was not oblivious to such matters of audience engagement, as he once wrote about his own performance of these same variations, “I was guided by the coughing of the audience. Whenever the coughing would increase, I would skip the next variation. Whenever there was no coughing, I would play them in proper order.” In the case of Mr. Chen’s program, if there had been any such concern, it might have been advisable to omit the Chopin Nocturne and let the two larger pieces breathe more fully (and the Chopin could even have been saved for an encore).

In any case, Schubert’s “Wanderer” Fantasy was excellent, and it showed a strong grasp of its technical challenges, voicing demands, and sprawling structure. Once again, there seemed a need for greater softness where marked pianissimo, and perhaps at heart was a fear of not projecting, but the good news is that all projected quite well, so an exploration of the lower dynamic extremes in a few spots should indeed be possible. There certainly was no lack of stamina, and in what was almost an “embarrassment of riches” Mr. Chen responded to his final ovation with a sizzling account of Liszt’s La Campanella. What, no Islamey?

All kidding aside, such a concert represents an enormous achievement, after which it is hoped that this pianist can enjoy a short breather for some of his other professed interests of “reading, movies, board games, clouds, geography and maps, hiking, scuba diving, and private piloting.” While William Chen deserves huge accolades, congratulations are also in order to those who are raising him and to his teachers, Michael Thomopoulos and Wha Kyung Byun. Bravo! With both talent and such a superb foundation, there should be continued greatness ahead.

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

Rosa Antonelli Bridges: From Chopin to Piazzolla CD in Review

Music of Frédéric Chopin, Georges Mathias, Alberto Williams, Alberto Ginastera, and Astor Piazzolla

Rosa Antonelli, piano

Recorded by Max Ross, April 2019 at Systems Two, New York, NY;

Mixed and Mastered by Mike Marciano

Cover Photo: Chris Lee

Albany Records TROY1783 (2019)

Argentinian pianist Rosa Antonelli, whom I had the pleasure of reviewing favorably in 2016 at an Alberto Ginastera Centennial concert, has come out with a fascinating new themed program on a CD entitled “Bridges.” It includes five composers, starting with Chopin and continuing with four subsequent composers (linked directly or indirectly to Chopin) whose music over the course of five generations helped to build an Argentinian style of piano composition – Georges Mathias, Alberto Williams, Alberto Ginastera, and Astor Piazzolla.

Ms. Antonelli describes in her own words the origins of the project, involving its underlying Romanticism: “It all started at my last concert at Carnegie Hall when Susan Bush, president of Albany Records, who was in the audience, came backstage after the recital and said, ‘When you played Chopin as an encore, I heard Piazzolla’s music – it’s all romantic!’ I heard similar comments from others in the audience, and I’ve felt the same for many years.” The “Bridges” CD was thus born – referring not just to diachronic bridges but to bridges between nations and cultures. Ms. Antonelli extends this concept stating that, “when we create art, we all do it together, building bridges across borders.”

Though the bridge theme is appealing, the draw for this listener was the inclusion of two composers, Georges Mathias (1826-1910) and Alberto Williams (1862-1952), both largely unknown or forgotten throughout much of the world (though highly regarded in their lifetimes) and both heard here in five world premieres (bringing the CD premiere tally to seven, counting two Piazzolla works premiered in piano versions). I couldn’t wait to hear these rarities! In many cases, the rediscovery of long-lost music can yield disappointment (as some have said, many things are forgotten for a reason); in this case, though, while I can’t profess undying love of Georges Mathias (yet), the music of Alberto Williams here has definitely opened doors of discovery, and I am holding out hope for further appreciation – more on that later.

As far as Ginastera (1916-1983) and Piazzolla (1921-1992) go, Ms. Antonelli has for many years performed music of these celebrated composers, and she does so with flair and sensitivity. Highlights of the CD for this reviewer included Ms. Antonelli’s Danza del Trigo (“Dance of Wheat”) from Ginastera’s Estancias, played with such haunting beauty that it seems reason enough on its own to purchase the CD. Interestingly, as I looked over my review of Ms. Antonelli’s 2016 Ginastera concert (Rosa Antonelli in Review), I saw that her performance of the Danza del Trigo affected me similarly then then as well.

To return to the CD as a whole, it is beautifully planned to form over 75 minutes of lyrical and atmospheric piano selections that are simpatico despite geographically diverse histories. It opens with a thoughtfully conceived group of Chopin selections, from the opening C-sharp minor Nocturne (posthumous) to the same composer’s F-sharp Nocturne Op. 48, No. 2, and on to the Waltz in G-flat (Op. 70, No. 1) in the enharmonic major. The three make quite a compatible grouping mood-wise and key-wise, and one appreciates the artfully planned sequence as well as the overall emphasis on lyricism.

These Chopin works have a distinguished performance history, so inevitably there are some quibbles, including excessive liberties with the score. Those who are not professional musicians may want to skip the rest of this paragraph, but for a musician familiar with the opening Nocturne there was too much stretching and shortening of note values beyond what might be considered justifiable (yes, there is rubato in Chopin, but the German Augmented sixths in the second and fourth measures of the opening Nocturne are nearly double in value here). In general, Ms. Antonelli is quite a persuasive interpreter, but such discrepancies with Chopin’s manuscript and respected editions are distracting, including the substitution of F-sharps in the left hand at measure 8 where the manuscript has D-sharps, some added and omitted notes, and significant changes of melody and harmony at measure 26 (though the latter change does appear in an Alfred Cortot edition). Added bass octaves in measure 59 and in the very last measure seem to “gild the lily” as well.

All quibbles aside, Ms. Antonelli establishes with flair the Chopin premise for the disc, and if the Waltz in G-flat has a measured feel that keeps it from taking its usual flight, it still serves as a good aural backdrop for the pieces of Georges Mathias that follow.

The music of Mathias (who studied with Chopin and later taught at the Paris Conservatoire) is represented here by his Romance sans Paroles, Op. 18, No. 4 and his Caprice-Valse, Op. 38, No. 1. The Romance (from the 1850’s) is full of the sentimental sighing motives and plaintive chromaticism that characterize much salon music of the time. Ms. Antonelli proves herself to be an ardent advocate for it, and one is grateful for her work in unearthing it, even if its chief interest may ultimately lie in its being the work of one of Chopin’s pupils. The rather coquettish Caprice-Valse (from c. 1865) is another kind of Victorian bonbon one rarely hears today. After a teasing introduction featuring more of the descending minor seconds that pervade the Romance (interesting segue!), the main allegretto begins with some of the feathery pianism that must have tickled salon-goers in the day. Some of it sounds a bit staid to modern ears, and this reviewer did wonder whether a lighter fleeter approach might not enliven it – but then again critiques must be balanced with gratitude for the unearthing. One’s curiosity was certainly piqued to explore this composer further.

In that spirit of exploration, a score for the Caprice-Valse was found online (Heugel edition), and one did notice that Ms. Antonelli has omitted quite a lot of notated ornaments in it, including the first page’s chain of grace notes, which would have probably lent the music a more playful character. One assumes that there was some compelling reason for such edits, as, despite stated themes relating to bridges and borders, there are some individual boundaries to a composer’s own creative realm, established largely through such notation! Mr. Mathias was certainly no stranger to matters of notation, as he was also a professor who taught piano to the next featured composer of the CD, Alberto Williams.

Buenos Aires-born Alberto Williams is described in the liner notes (credited to J. Michael Allsen) as “a leading figure in Argentina for over 50 years,” and he had become a pupil of Georges Mathias at age 20 (1882) on scholarship at the Paris Conservatoire before returning to his native Argentina in 1889. To those who read great importance into pedagogic lineage, Alberto Williams could be considered a “grand-pupil” of Chopin, or as Mr. Allsen puts it, “the keystone of this arch” from Chopin to later music of Argentina. Representing Alberto Williams here are three works, starting with the somber Valse, Op. 29, No. 3, chosen from a set of pieces for young players (1891). The Valse reflects perhaps the academic strictures of Williams’ composition teacher, César Franck, more than any pianistic gifts from Chopin’s legacy (aside from one lyrically rhapsodic episode), but considerably more substantial is Williams’ Novelette, Op. 8 (from 1886), not specified for students and more ambitious pianistically. It may owe its inspiration (and name) to Schumann, but it remains a youthful effort.

The greatest individuality by far emerges from Williams in his Huella, Op. 46, No. 1, dating from 1904, around fifteen years after the composer’s return to Argentina. Here, at last, is a distinct voice. There are, as the liner notes describe, “two alternating sections of music, one pounding out the characteristic 6/8 rhythm of the folk huella and a second featuring a more gentle alternation of duple and triple meter.” Here are the beginnings of an Argentinian piano style that surely helped to usher in Ginastera and Piazzola. It is fresh, colorful and original, and it whetted one’s appetite for more. Perhaps there will be a “Bridges II” CD with more of this composer’s later music. Beyond this, perhaps Ms. Antonelli will help to produce an international edition, as it is currently difficult, if not impossible, to obtain much of Alberto Williams’ music in the US.

Though Alberto Ginastera needs little introduction, it was particularly eye-opening to rehear some of his music after some music of Alberto Williams, his teacher during conservatory years in Buenos Aires (before Copland in the US). There is definitely a bridge here which Ms. Antonelli helped to make audible and which warrants deeper study. In addition to the stunning Danza del Trigo there is magic in the twilight romance of Idilio crepuscular and the driving dance Pequeña Danza with the spirit of the gaucho, here a bit more restrained than one is accustomed to hearing.

Six of Ginastera’s Twelve American Preludes follow, including Sadness, Vidala, Homenaje a Robert Garcia Morillo (composer and critic), Pastorale, Homenaje a Juan José Castro (conductor and composer), and Creole Dance. Highlights included the hypnotic Pastorale and the “tempo di tango” of the subsequent Castro tribute. The final rustic dance finds Ms. Antonelli unleashing more energy than in her other selections, before the Ginastera group closes with the despairing Milonga, an effective transition to the more popular genres of Astor Piazzolla, who is the next and final of the five composers.

There seems little left to explore in the increasingly popular work of Piazzolla, but his Balada para un Loco (“Ballad for a Fool” – slow tango) is captivating in Ms. Antonelli’s hands, as is the very famous Oblivion which follows. Premieres of two “new” (for piano) pieces close the CD, including La Partida (“The Parting” – a zamba) and a piece in candombe form entitled Yo soy el Negro (“I am the Black Man”). These latter two are atmospheric pieces, but with a great degree of repeating rhythms and motives which become taxing to one accustomed to truly focused listening. Perhaps the latter is hard to sustain without lyrics, but for those who seek simply some gently ambient Argentine music, it should fit the bill.

All in all, there is much to enjoy here. The CD is available at Amazon.com, AlbanyRecords.com, ArkivMusic.com, and iTunes.

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

La MaMa Experimental Theatre Club Presents Bach and Bleach in Review

Esther Apituley, Artistic Director/violist; Erwin Maas, Director (NYC Version); Text by Ko van den Bosch; Tamara Keasberry, Creative Producer; Bob Zimmerman, arranger;

Featuring Jenny Sterlin, actress; Emily Uematsu and Carolin Pook, violins;

Chanel Karimkhani, cellist; James Robbins, double bassist;

Carlos Horns, pianist; Grégoire Maret, mouth-harmonica;

Ethan Cohen, percussion;

Members of the NY Choral Society, Michael Ciavaglia, conductor

La MaMa Experimental Theatre Club, New York, NY

June 8, 2019

An extraordinarily beautiful production billed as a “Theatre Concert” took place at La MaMa Experimental Theatre Club last week (June 5-9), and it turned out to be much more than the promised “play with music”; It was more accurately a play about music and its restorative and unifying power – and in a broader sense a play about life in general.

From the very first scene, in which a character called Cleaning Lady finds herself vacuuming the stage, we are brought into a reality far removed from any glitz or glamor, the reality of bleach, mops, vacuum cleaners and anonymity. As this character herself remarks, “there has never been a review that says ‘very good cleaning lady’” – though her faceless state is corrected by the end, at which point (avoiding a spoiler) one might say that her face is celebrated everywhere.

Cleaning Lady is heartbreakingly lovable as played by actress Jenny Sterlin, and as we hear a bit of her story as a Bosnian refugee and learn her name, Maria, we gather that she has turned her years of suffering and loss into wisdom but has never quite experienced the music coming from the very stages she cleans. That all changes through the course of this play, and thankfully there is humor enough to render the pain endurable. As a small ensemble of single-minded musicians arrive for their concert, led by their violist, the dynamic Esther Apituley, an initial clash occurs, followed by a journey across barriers of all sorts as the characters realize the connections among themselves and their ability to “meet in music.” This whole scenario requires some “suspension of disbelief” as a drama, but the truth behind the drama requires none; in fact, it should resonate for anyone working in the arts or, from the other side of things, striving to experience them.

Bach and Bleach

The “concert” itself – an assortment of over a dozen wide-ranging classical and jazz performances interspersed with dialogue – included music of Purcell, Handel, Bach, and others, featuring most prominently Bach’s Chaconne from the Violin Partita in D Minor, here played movingly and with profound involvement on viola by Ms. Apituley. If there is any thought that a performer involved in such experimental theater might be less capable as a solo musician than the typical concert artist, let that prejudice be banished. Ms. Apituley was musically top-notch, but beyond that she did what more musicians ought to do, which is to commit to every single moment with intensity. To do that – plus all the other classical and jazz ensemble work and drama – was a tour de force.

Also heard were the Caprice No. 24 of Paganini (though listed as his Etude No. 4) played commandingly by Emily Uematsu, the Intermezzo (fourth movement) of Shostakovich’s Piano Quintet in G minor, the Waltz for String Quartet of Benjamin Britten (from Three Divertimenti), and Fauré’s tender Berceuse, Op. 16. More info may be found at the production’s website: http://lamama.org/bach_and_bleach/, but kudos must go to all of the other commendable musicians, violinist Carolin Pook, cellist Chanel Karimkhani, double bassist James Robbins, pianist Carlos Horns, percussionist Ethan Cohen, and Grégoire Maret, who improvised impressively on mouth-harmonica.

Additional music included Cleaning Lady by Arnold Marinissen and some wonderfully played jazz arrangements of Bob Zimmerman, ingeniously incorporating motifs from the Bach Chaconne and the Paganini 24^th Caprice. In addition, the song Bohémienne (from Notre Dame de Paris, by Cocciante and Plamondon) was sung by the evening’s cellist, Chanel Karimkhani, conveying soulfully again the very human state of wandering and uncertainty.

Bach and Bleach

After the Shostakovich movement was played, Ms. Apituley briefly opened the discussion to the audience. To the question, “Did you see anything as you listened?” the responses ran the gamut – from colors to landscapes to family. From Maria, though, unaccustomed to concert music and paralyzed by the question, there was great fear of having “the wrong answer” – and this moment was exactly why this play could be so valuable to those inexperienced with concert music. The reassuring of Maria and what followed was a dispelling of preconceptions – and exactly what is needed by the world of live music today.

Such symbolic or didactic missions can tend to lend a two-dimensional quality to a theater piece – and indeed there were initial moments of stick-figure stiltedness in the first clashes of characters – but, as it soon was clear, that stiltedness provided a dramatic contrast with the naturalness developed later in response to the music and to each other. Thanks to the irresistible humor and humanity of Jenny Sterlin and some compelling musical advocacy by the musicians, particularly Ms. Apituley, the drama and music were powerfully alive and real.

There were layers of metaphor suggested in this play, including the convergence of notes in music relating to the convergence of individuals through shared experience – even a running theme about particles and waves, introduced through Maria’s recollections of long-ago dreams to become a physicist – and yet, all unfolded with naturalness and ease.

If one had one reservation about the evening, it was in regard to the program notes. When drawing the untutored listeners into classical music, it can be helpful to give complete program details, so that audience members can follow up on works they like. Many such traditions of classical concerts actually serve a purpose. As it was, we were told that there were no printed programs, but in an effort to “go green” the program info would be digitized, i.e. accessible on cellphones. Upon entering the hall then we were then told to turn off all cellphones.

The concept of Bach and Bleach sprang from text by Dutch author Ko van den Bosch. Direction for the NYC production was by Erwin Maas with Tamara Keasberry as Creative Producer. Esther Apituley is listed as Artistic Director, but clearly she is even more than that, on a mission to bring what she loves to the world.

Though I was surprised at first to see one young tween-ish boy entering the theater (with some fairly “adult” flyers within eyeshot), I wished by the end that every child in the world could see this play as part of their introduction to concert music. Bach and Bleach has been played over 50 times in Europe and is supported as part of the Dutch Culture USA program by the Consulate General of the Netherlands in New York (plus other donors), so perhaps there are still more benefactors out there to ensure that it gains ever greater audiences and numbers of performances.

Oh, and one more thing: very good cleaning lady.

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

American Protégé Summer Gala Concert in Review

Winners of the American Protégé Summer Gala Concert Competition

Steven Ionov, Master of Ceremonies

Isaac Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

June 8, 2019

The American Protégé Music Competitions are in their twelfth year presenting aspiring musicians in prominent venues in New York, and, based on their recent Summer Gala Concerts, they appear to be attracting many talented young performers. This Saturday they actually presented two Carnegie concerts, one at noon and one in the evening, the earlier one covered by this reviewer. To say that such ventures have become a big business is an understatement, and though artistic merit is always debatable, it is certainly an achievement simply to undertake two such events in one day at one of the most prestigious venues in the world. For many of those presented, it was undoubtedly a great milestone, complete with bragging rights galore.

Rather than opting for, say, the smaller Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall (which might have accommodated their crowd), American Protégé opted for the larger hall, Isaac Stern Auditorium, and had no fewer than forty young performers taking turns onstage. A similar number appeared at the evening concert. The performers came from throughout the US, along with Canada, Thailand, Singapore, and other countries. They ranged from very young elementary schoolers through high schoolers, with styles ranging from classical to pop. There were predominantly classical performances from the first eighteen (mostly pianists, playing music from Bach and Beethoven to the twentieth century, and a few on violin, flute, and voice), while the latter twenty-two winners were singers performing a mix of mostly Broadway (including Stephen Schwartz, Andrew Lloyd Webber, Claude-Michel Schönberg) and “popular” styles (including Adele, Ariana Grande, Taylor Swift, Alicia Keys, David Guetta, and Billie Eilish). It was an eclectic concert to say the least.

“Instant stardom” is a popular notion these days, advanced by such television shows as America’s Got Talent, American Idol, and various similar programs, and the “instant” aspect was in evidence through much of the popular segments, with selfie-ready teen and tween singers in high gloss, “channeling” the delivery of famous singers, helped by amplification and Karaoke-style pre-recorded tracks. All that was missing was Auto-Tune.

We heard a shockingly precocious performance of Kelly Clarkson’s Dark Side from a fresh-faced ten-year old, and a similarly gritty rendition of Adele’s Rolling in the Deep from another cherubic youngster. One must concede that emotional depth can span all age groups, and mature experiences are thrust on the youngest children quite early these days, but one did wonder – what is the huge hurry? Not to be misunderstood, as there were some compelling performances (in and amongst some cringe-worthy straining and iffy intonation), but wouldn’t it be better for these youngsters to find their own styles and identities in music over time rather than rushing into quasi-impersonation? One also worries in many cases for these fragile young vocal chords, straining to do what has hurt the voices of even their established idols. One singer, Isabelle Wong from Canada, stood out for a moving song that she composed as well as sang, All I Can Do, which showed the beginnings of an individual style. Also, outstanding for naturalness of expression and musicality were Christiana Schiller, Kayla Silverman, Yana Ebbing, and Nijjaree Dusitsoonthornkul. Others were quite promising and with time may know artistic and/or commercial success.

Classical instrumentalists – and pianists in particular – are on the opposite end of the spectrum from pop singers, development-wise, and they are generally not subject to (or even capable of) quite such accelerated ripening, though the technical requirements for a serious career in classical music do tend to require the diligent practice of an instrument while young. The emphasis with classical pianists is also not quite as much on looks and presentation (as there is only so much one can do to glamorize a seated profile). Though the parade of adorable young pianists on Saturday was a visual bouquet, one asks oneself which ones seem best suited to reach the highest pianistic and artistic standards. Beyond the basic physical training of muscles and reflexes, there are elements of melodic phrasing, harmony, rhythm, style, awareness of historical context, and human experience that all contribute to the interpretive art. These aspects require many years of playing and living.

Many “stage parents” understandably want to see their investment of time, energy and funds bear fruit immediately – hence the plethora of prodigies pushed towards the public today – but enormous patience and discipline are involved in the mastery of music, if it is to be an art rather than a mere stunt (or worse, a cause for years of therapy later on). While all of the young pianists in the American Protégé noon concert were indeed admirably prepared, they would in most cases be hard to place above those heard quite often in any number of local competitions (New York City’s special meaning of “local” notwithstanding); nevertheless, in the spirit of Domenico Scarlatti’s writing, “to be more human than critical,” a few performances shall be mentioned here.

Among the youngest players – perhaps the youngest- was Koutaro Ohnishi. Born in 2011 in Palo Alto, CA, he is still, at the current moment (at the time of writing – since the chronology matters in the prodigy world) just age seven. One is told by the program notes’ biography that he is the first-prize winner of the “Grand Prize Virtuoso” in Salzburg, Austria in 2018, and that contest’s website confirms his inclusion that year (among a large array of winners ranging from ages 4 to 51: 2018 “Salzburg” Grand Prize Virtuoso selected winners). Since young Mr. Ohnishi was age six in 2018, it is additionally remarkable that (as we are told) he had only just started piano at age six as well, when a friend of his father’s gave his family an upright piano… so he certainly has made remarkably rapid progress to have advanced from starting the basics to performing in a contest before a year was up! Many would say that all of this happened too fast for true, meaningful growth, but then again, he did play with all the right notes and a certain stately calm, so time will tell.

Mr. Ohnishi performed the Aria from Bach’s monumental Goldberg Variations. It was an unusual choice, with all the Kleine Praeludien, dances from Suites and Partitas, and Inventions available (and age-appropriate), and to extract a portion of such an iconic work might be called cheeky, but perhaps this choice was an intentional reference to the bigger possibilities to come. After all, if a youngster can play the Aria from the Goldberg Variations at Carnegie Hall at age seven, what might he do in ten years? As it stands now, he shows remarkable poise for one so young and, aside from some metric glitches caused by some ornaments that were cumbersome to him (especially in the left hand), he fared admirably. This reviewer loves freedom in ornamentation, but not when verging on extra beats.

Young Mr. Ohnishi studies with Matt Wang at the Keys school in San Jose, California – and incidentally Mr. Wang was listed as teacher of several other performers, including Akira Ohyabu and Rachel Tat, both excellent. Ms. Ohyabu played Chopin’s posthumous Waltz in E minor with extraordinary ease for one so young – excellent repeated notes and good spirit – and Rachel Tat enjoyed a remarkably facile ride through Chopin’s Étude Op. 25, No. 2 in F minor.

Other notable performances included an instinctively spirited account of the last movement of Beethoven’s Sonata Op. 13 (the “Pathétique”) by Nico Brett. It was excellent and will be even better if he can avoid harshness in the louder passages. We also heard a superb account of Poulenc’s sophisticated Toccata from Trois Pièces from Jaden Tan and a colorful realization of Wencheng Lu’s Autumn Moon on a Calm Lake from Claire Wang. An unusually mature grasp of demanding contemporary technique was shown in Shchedrin’s Basso Ostinato by Albert Su, already playing it at a professional level.

Many other performers that we heard will surely be up and coming – that is, assuming they are allowed to assimilate the complexities of musical art within an unforced timeframe – but hopefully all enjoyed the special chance to perform in this legendary hall. Congratulations are due to all winners, and also to the day’s collaborative pianists, Yoni Levyatov, Cherie Roe, Kyoung Im Kim, Martina Oslejskova, and Simona Snitskovskaya. Recorded tracks will never replace “the real thing” with quite the same spirit.

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

Bradshaw & Buono International Piano Competition Winners’ Recital in Review

Pianists Nana Miyoshi, Maxine Park, Crystal Chen, Andy Liao, and Rixiang Huang

Weill Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

May 19, 2019

Two large Weill Hall recitals were presented this Sunday to feature winners of the 2019 Alexander and Buono Competitions (alexanderbuono.com), the first featuring winners of the Barry Alexander International Vocal Competition (covered in a separate review) and the second, covered here, featuring the winners of the Bradshaw and Buono International Piano Competition (named for the two-piano team of Cosmo Buono and the late David Bradshaw). Messrs. Buono and Alexander were present to get the evening started with a few words, after which five excellent prizewinners took turns onstage, three before intermission and two after. Their prize categories were Elementary School (ages 4-11), Middle School (12-14), High School (15-18), Amateur Adults, and College/Adults.

The youngest category’s winner, Nana Miyoshi, opened the program with Mozart’s Sonata in F Major, K. 332. While one regularly hears very young pianists play selected movements of Mozart Sonatas, it is less common to hear one in its entirety, due to the required concentration and tonal control, especially for an inner slow movement. Ms. Miyoshi played the entire work with a poise and polish that belied her young years – and it was no small feat just to walk onto the stage of this storied hall and be the first performer of five. (For an excellent description of the rigors of such group recitals, one recommends once again the following review by Alexandra Eames: (Rutgers Pianists in Review)

As one expects of a prizewinner, Ms. Miyoshi was technically reliable in realizing Mozart’s score, but she also showed the beginnings of deeper interpretation of it, particularly in her first movement. The first dramatic C-sharp heralding the move to D minor was full of the operatic intensity one often wishes that more adult performers would project. Moments in the second movement were a bit romanticized for this listener (including generously rolled chords and instances of the left hand preceding right), but all in all the lyricism was quite appealing. With time, this young pianist will gain the ability to gauge the tone of longer note values so that they can last and connect ever more smoothly to subsequent tones, but again the phrasing was generally quite graceful for one so young. The last movement showcased Ms. Miyoshi’s impressively sparkling passagework, with only some telltale rushing reflecting her youth and the excitement of the day.

The second performer was Maxine Park, age fourteen, who played Bach and Chopin. First came five movements from Bach’s Partita No. 2 in C minor (sadly omitting just the Courante). Ms. Park showed outstanding decisiveness from the first notes of the Sinfonia, delivering the double-dotted rhythms with crispness and confidence. Though this reviewer felt there could be more nuance even within the French Overture spirit, such preferences are personal – and again one reminds oneself that this performer is younger than the coats in this reviewer’s closet! Ms. Park sailed through this work’s brisk dance movements with assuredness, and slower sections were thoughtfully rendered. All movements were played with no repeats, except in the Sarabande, which enjoyed some tasteful elaborations on the second iteration. The final Capriccio was wonderfully precise in its leaping tenths, showing excellent pianism, rhythm, and ebullience.

Moving on to Chopin’s Sonata No. 3 in B minor, Op. 58 (just the first movement), Ms. Park showed her interpretive potential in a more Romantic vein, making good sense of a movement many consider unwieldy. It is a bit surprising to hear such a young player take on such a mature work even in these days of prodigies abounding, but Ms. Park did so with admirable projection of the varying moods and skillful transitions throughout. Despite a small misfire in the early measures – something one has heard from numerous seasoned professionals – it was clear that Ms. Park has the technique and temperament to be a strong interpreter one day, if she chooses to be. One can expect great achievements from her as she continues to develop.

Still within the category of pre-college years (now high school) was Crystal Chen, age sixteen, playing selections by Beethoven, Liszt, and Bartok. She started with the first movement of Beethoven’s Sonata in C major, Op. 2, No. 3, in which she made short work of the challenges, from its tricky opening thirds to heraldic broken octaves, all with hearty Beethovenian spirit. As with Ms. Park’s single movement of the Chopin, one was reminded that we were in effect hearing an encore of a typical prize-winning audition, rather than a preview of the concerts these young pianists may give one day as full-fledged soloists, but audience members who liked what they heard will simply have to stay tuned for what is to come.

Ms. Chen followed her Beethoven with a fierce performance of Liszt’s La Campanella from the Grandes Études de Paganini. La Campanella can fall somewhere between target practice and a kamikaze mission, so those who choose to perform it live – and at such an important occasion, with little warming up and much unpredictability – deserve kudos for bravery alone. Ms. Chen was more than up to the task, though, and if it was not exactly a model of neatness, it certainly whipped up a huge lather towards the end, lifting her practically off the bench in the pursuit of a big sound – which she did indeed achieve. The audience was thrilled. She closed the first half with a bristling account of the first movement of Bartók’s Piano Sonata, another bold choice showing her power and potential.

Interestingly enough, some of the most satisfying music-making of the evening came through the hands of Andy Liao, from the so-called “Amateur” category, though if he is called amateur, then heaven help the professionals! Mr. Liao offered just one complete piece, Ginastera’s demanding Piano Sonata No. 1, Op. 22. He gave it a great ride, with a wide dynamic and emotional range and plenty of technique for its tremendous pianistic demands. From the declamatory opening through the smoldering presto misterioso and ensuing Adagio, one felt that there was no note without intent. The Ruvido final movement had just the right driving energy, stirring the audience to a rousing ovation. This piece has had many passionate champions – the name Terrence Judd springs to mind as a favorite – but Mr. Liao now holds a place among them. Bravo!

The final performer, Rixiang Huang, faced quite a difficult task in following so much extraordinary piano music – and in a recital starting at 6:30pm his own offerings finished close to 9pm. As Mr. Huang won in the College/Adult category, it was natural that the presenters wanted to feature him as the concert’s grand finale – and in a wide spectrum of repertoire – but somewhere along the way, the notion of strain on the audience was lost. Though there were some audience members who came and left, present especially to hear their friend or relative, the listener who is present from start to finish ought to be considered as well. Even the hardiest music-lovers reach a point of aural saturation. By the time Mr. Huang walked onto the stage, this listener was ready to hear perhaps one more small piece but probably not another miniature recital. Such matters should be considered, lest the presenters do their winners a disservice.

Despite the above mentioned issues, Mr. Huang appeared unfazed as he calmly wiped the piano keys before his own long segment of the program. His confidence, as one discovered, was well justified, as this young man knows how to play! Currently a Master of Music degree candidate at Juilliard studying with Matti Raekallio and Jerome Lowenthal, Mr. Huang offered a mini-recital made up of Haydn’s Sonata in E minor Hob XVI.34, Beethoven’s Sonata in F-sharp major, Op. 78, Los Requiebros from Goyescas by Granados, and, to cap the evening off, Liszt’s Dante Sonata.

The Haydn could have easily been omitted, as it did not seem to show qualities unique to Mr. Huang and was challenging to listen to with fresh ears after the Ginastera; that said, Mr. Huang gave it good attention to detail, in particular the slow movement which reflected well the improvisatory style associated with C. P. E. Bach whom Haydn highly respected. Repeats were omitted, except in the last movement.

The Beethoven that followed, the two-movement Op. 78, was a refreshing choice, as it is often bypassed in favor of the more dramatic Sonatas Opp. 53, 57, 110, and others, though it is a beautiful and ingenious work. Mr. Huang played it commendably, with sensitivity in its lyrical opening and great care in the details of articulation and dynamics in its later flights.

Still more lyrical was Los Requiebros, and there was a suavity about this performance that was just right. Mr. Huang seemed to feel quite at home with this Spanish style of musical dreaming, and it was a good bridge into the Romanticism that followed in the form of Liszt’s Dante Sonata, properly named Après une lecture du Dante: Fantasia quasi Sonata from the Années de Pèlerinage, V. II. Here, in the Liszt, came the style of virtuosity for which Mr. Huang stood out the most. The Dante Sonata is notorious for its ferocious octave demands. In this reviewer’s conservatory years, a dear class clown when offended would issue mock threats to play “Dante Sonata on your head” – and in all seriousness, it is that fiendish; in Mr. Huang’s hands, however, it was child’s play. Moreover, the music always came across, never devolving into mere noise. Mr. Huang moved easily from the softest tremolos to superb arpeggiated elaborations and, yes, torrents of octaves (and he may have broken speed records in some of those torrents!). He was, in a word, superb.

All in all, it was an auspicious evening for five highly promising pianists. One hopes to hear more from all of them in the future. Congratulations to all.

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

The National Music & Global Culture Society Presents “From East to West” in Review

Eldbjørg Hemsing, violin; Nargiz Aliyarova, piano

Bruno Walter Auditorium, Lincoln Center, New York, NY

April 24, 2019

One may not often see links between the cultures of Norway and Azerbaijan (okay, you’ve got me – none ever crossed my mind!), but the excellent pairing of Norwegian violinist Eldbjørg Hemsing and Azerbaijani pianist Nargiz Aliyarova made a compelling case for just such connections this week at Bruno Walter Auditorium. Playing works of Ali-Zadeh, Garayev, and Melikov from Azerbaijan, and Brustad and Grieg from Norway – along with a Prokofiev opening – they gave a uniquely stimulating recital entitled “From East to West.” The program was subtitled, “Prokofiev Violin Sonata No. 2 and Works from Azerbaijan and Norway,” but the Russian role in the evening’s theme seemed to be that of a musical bridge (alluded to in Dr. Aliyarova’s comments about the influence of Russian teachers on both performers and their chosen composers). The focal roles of Norway and Azerbaijan were underscored in Dr. Aliyarova’s introductory remarks, including references to the Norwegian explorer and ethnographer Thor Heyerdahl, whose Azerbaijan-Viking theories have invited discussion years after his death (the reader may find more about these fascinating but highly debated hypotheses here Thor Heyerdahl Azerbaijan-Viking theories.

The evening was almost too tantalizing in too many directions to assimilate, so there is definitely ore to be mined for numerous future lecture-recitals; the overarching theme, however, was one of global unity. In that spirit, Dr. Aliyarova, the director and founder of the National Music and Global Cultural Society, presented this recital as part of the stated mission “to bring people of different ethnic groups together through their national music to global culture.”

Matching the intensity of the stated mission was an intensity in the duo’s opening performance of the Prokofiev Sonata No. 2 in D major, Op. 94. The work is often heard in its original version for flute and piano, but Prokofiev transcribed it later for the legendary violinist David Oistrakh, and numerous violinists have since adopted it into their violin repertoires. Ms. Hemsing and Dr. Aliyarova gave it an exciting account, exhibiting the technical and musical versatility to accommodate myriad changes of spirit, mood, and tempo without loosening the grip of its neoclassical restraint. Ms. Hemsing proved to be a violinist of consistently pure and refined sound, conveying well Prokofiev’s placid lyricism at the opening, from which its ever wider expressive range grew. The boisterous accents in the vigorous Scherzo were just right from both players, and the sinuous chromaticism of the Andante had an intoxicating sway to it. A memorable moment was the brief F-major section in the final movement – played with a special ethereal quality. Dr. Aliyarova was the assured collaborator throughout, projecting the music’s brilliance and humor – the latter especially in the “piano exercise” moments of the last movement.

Ms. Hemsing took the program to Norway next with a work listed as Fairy Tale for solo violin by Bjarne Brustad (1895-1978). It combined a pesante fiddler’s style with silky improvisatory flights, and its tonal language brought to mind how Bartok might have sounded had he been Norwegian. Ms. Hemsing spoke of it evoking the trolls of Norwegian folklore, and she played it with captivating whimsy. The piece seemed to fall into sections and perhaps was actually the Fairy Tale Suite one has seen listed elsewhere, but, while it would have been better to have more specifics on the printed program, the spoken introduction – and playing – did spur the listener’s imagination. Ms. Hemsing is an exceptional violinist who has also championed on disc the largely forgotten Norwegian composer Hjalmar Borgström (whose work sadly we did not get to hear). Her other repertoire has ranged from Bach, Beethoven, and Bartók to Tan Dun (for whom she recently premiered a violin concerto with the Oslo Philharmonic). To read more one can visit eldbjorghemsing.info.

Dr. Aliyarova closed the first half with an arresting solo, Music for Piano by Azerbaijani composer Franghiz Ali-Zadeh (b. 1947 and currently living in Germany). Ms. Ali-Zadeh composed the work in 1989 (publishing it nearly a decade later), and in it she used a prepared piano technique to evoke the plaintive sound of traditional Azerbaijani music (presumably the tar, a lute-like string instrument). The “preparation” was Dr. Aliyarova’s placement of a chain on the piano strings to create a buzzing metallic timbre on a selected set of notes (including a very prominent, hypnotically repeated middle F-sharp), allowing traditional piano tones to ring out above it in quasi-improvisatory outpourings. Ferocious toccata-like passages in the bass alternated with the more songful sections, both of which the pianist imbued with great emotion. Dr. Aliyarova was a compelling interpreter for this work and is clearly a dynamo who combines excellent pianistic skills and artistry with her role as presenter and educator. More can be learned at her website: www.nargizaliyarova.com

Having heard a piece by Franghiz Ali-Zadeh, we were treated after intermission to music of Ms. Ali-Zadeh’s teacher of piano and composition, Gara Garayev (1918-1982), one of the leaders in the Azerbaijani music world. Garayev’s Adagio for violin and piano from his ballet Seven Beauties brought a lush, tonal style not far from the language of Borodin and some Khatchaturian (as in the Adagio from Spartacus), and the duo reveled in its unabashed Romanticism. Garayev was himself a pupil of Shostakovich and thus could act as a connection to the Russian master for his own students, including for Arif Melikov (b. 1933), whose work we heard next. Melikov’s Monologue from the ballet, Legend of Love reflected some of Garayev’s expansive lyricism but with even more exotic flavor to its lines. Dr. Aliyarova and Ms. Hemsing melded well to convey the spirit in both pieces.
The concert was capped off by a Norwegian composer who needs no introduction, Edvard Grieg, whose Sonata No. 3 for Violin and Piano in C minor, Op. 45 is enjoying a busy spring (including a performance this reviewer was assigned to write up just a few weeks ago). It was given an impassioned performance here by both musicians, but Ms. Hemsing emerged as a particularly powerful interpreter for her countryman, delivering in each note and phrase the vividness and nuance that one hears more often from opera singers. Dr. Aliyarova was excellent in her handling of the work’s myriad challenges, only occasionally allowing accompanying parts in the piano to overpower the violin. Some of the nasty octaves and passagework in the last movement slipped a bit from her grasp, matters which might have been resolved by reining in the tempo a bit, but the duo had a “go for it” spirit which deserved admiration. After all, a few imperfections only remind an audience that these are human beings.

On the subject of being human comes one reservation for the evening: in live performance the performer (who is human!) should not be subject to the distractions of cameras moving around, especially on stage. One assumes that the wandering of one photographer onto the stage (in a bright red shirt, no less) may have been condoned at least initially by the performers, probably for purposes related to the ever-encroaching forces of social media, but it was a distraction for audience and performer alike and an affront to the music itself. It also implies, even if obliquely, that some virtual audience in the future matters more than those who traveled and made a point of being present.

Another reservation was the lack of program notes about the music itself, because, if the mission is to draw connections, notes can help to educate beyond the scope of some rather offhand comments from the stage. Though one could argue that most works can be researched online these days, the same could be said of performers’ biographical notes, which in this case were fairly extensive. Web links to the biographies might have sufficed, allowing room in the program for a bit more content about the composers and works themselves. That said, one looks forward to this organization’s further musical explorations.

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

The Paulus Hook Music Foundation presents Cong Bi in Review

Cong Bi, pianist

Zankel Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

April 12, 2019

In a well-attended debut at Zankel Hall at Carnegie Hall this week, Chinese pianist Cong Bi took on three of the most demanding works in the piano literature. Beethoven’s Sonata in F minor, Op. 57 (the “Appassionata”) and Schumann’s Davidsbündlertänze shared the first half, and Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition stood alone as the second half. The concert was billed as a “celebration of the 40th anniversary of the establishment of Sino-US diplomatic relations.” Though there was no music from China to mark the occasion (even when an audience member called out “Chinese song!” at encore time), a large Chinese contingent seemed proud and excited.

This reviewer gives generally few (if any) words about an artist’s appearance, but one would be remiss here not to mention that Cong Bi drew a gasp of admiration before he played a note. Blessed with a movie star’s good looks, he cuts a swath simply by striding onstage and gazing dreamily out at the hall from beneath a Lisztian mane. Why mention such a thing, when it is the music that matters? Well, at the risk of lumping classical music together with the pop world (e.g., the teen models who become overnight “musicians” with the magic of Auto-Tune), a distinctive stage persona does help command some attention even from classical music audiences (despite what many say). What happens after that initial impression is up to the performer’s actual musical gift and the discernment of the audience, though a magnetic image doesn’t hurt then either.

A quick web search finds that Cong Bi recently completed a graduation recital for the Bachelor of Music degree at the Mannes School of Music (The New School), but many of his credentials are from performances with orchestras and at international festivals from as early as 2011. Though no mention of the pianist’s age is made, one would guess that 2011 would have found him in his young teens. His biography cites a Rachmaninoff Concerto No. 2 performance at age fifteen (Forbidden City Hall in Beijing) for “fulfilling his stature as a musical prodigy.”

The transition period from the sketchy label “prodigy” to that of “mature artist” is challenging, because a prodigy by nature is a standout among his peers with all the attention focused on himself or herself; the gradual shift of attention towards music’s deepest offerings, though, is what allows the genuine “slow burn” career. There were many glimmers of that pure musical devotion throughout the evening (not to mention the discipline involved in tacking the program itself), but at the moment the romance and excess of youth are centerstage.

The good news from this reviewer’s perspective is that, given the order of repertoire chosen, one could enjoy each piece more than the last, with the Beethoven showing promise, the Schumann featuring a wonderfully manic ride, and the Mussorgsky going for broke completely in an unbridled tour de force. On the downside, the range from wild to wilder to wildest seemed to place Beethoven’s great Op. 57 in the position of being the steed that one uses to ride onstage rather than the substantial work of art that it is. The technical grasp was certainly there, except for a few rough patches and occasional balance issues (e.g., where left-hand repeated note rumbles overwhelmed higher lines); on the other hand, various important junctures were glossed over at high speed, and weighty moments seemed rather glib. This piece requires a bit of living, as well as thorough scholarship, and though it was clear that Mr. Bi has been well taught to be mindful of most of its details, one missed feeling the hard-won wholeness of conception that one wants. That quality tends to come with time.

Things simply got better after the Beethoven. Some of the qualities that one tends to link with youth – fierce energy, breakneck speeds, the glorying in massive sonorities, and almost schizoid shifts to intimate poetry – these all enhanced numerous passionate moments of the Mussorgsky and Schumann.

In the Schumann Davidsbündlertänze, we heard just the right impulsiveness in the eighteen wildly diverse episodes. Impetuosity was especially pronounced in the fourth (Ungeduldig), the sixth (Sehr rasch), the thirteenth (Wild und lustig), and the fifteenth (Frisch). The three episodes marked Mit Humor were also just so. We heard a hale and hearty romp through the third, with delightful ease in the leaps (as heard later in the ninth as well), and there was a Horowitzian devilry in the twelfth. The sixteenth had a jaggedness that verged on madness (in the best way possible), and in and out of the entire set we heard some astonishing lightness and delicacy as well. Present were the heroic flourishes of Florestan and introspective spells of Eusebius (contrasting characters who were quite alive in Schumann’s musical imagination), and the Davidsbünd (“The Band of David” against the Philistines) was well conveyed with excellent range. Having heard the Davidsbündlertänze easily a hundred times in capable hands, one has a rather high bar set for it, but this performance held its own quite well. The final episode (Nicht schnell) spoke stirringly, even if its last pianissimo breaths were a shade too loud (probably thanks to the hall piano’s highly resonant bass).

As for the Mussorgsky Pictures, it was a thrill to hear it played with such total immersion. The overall “exhibition” (each musical movement representing a painting at an exhibit) was interpreted thoughtfully, as were the individual sections. The Gnomus movement was appropriately craggy (almost brutal, but it worked), followed by a hypnotic Old Castle and an effortlessly fleet and clear Tuileries. The Bydlo (oxen) movement, was certainly leaden as it should be, though the giant hand gestures with each chord seemed needless at best and a bit risky.

What followed Bydlo was special in that the recurring Promenade theme (suggesting the composer’s own stroll between artworks) was treated with more special sensitivity to tonal color than it usually receives. This reviewer has found many performances of Mussorgsky’s Pictures quite tiresome, and it may be because the proverbial chain (in music especially) is only as strong as its weakest link. In other words, when the Promenade theme is treated as mere connecting material as often happens, interest lags. Why should we not be as involved in the walk of the art lover (within this musical artwork), as well as in his changing gait and spirit? Cong Bi did well in this regard, holding his audience firmly as he moved through the encyclopedic array of moods, characters, and images – not to mention pianistic challenges. From the sobbing character of the repeated notes of Samuel Goldenberg and Schmuÿle to the frantic double notes of The Market at Limoges, he drew on tremendous pianism resources. The Hut on Hen’s Legs (Baba Yaga) was absolutely nightmarish, topped only by “no holds barred” rendition of The Great Gates of Kiev. A few minor glitches hardly affected the sweep from such sheer abandon, and listeners were on the edges of their seats. It was the kind of excitement that could help draw the next generation into the world of classical piano music. A standing ovation followed.

Despite the audience plea for a Chinese song, the evening retained its Russo-German slant with an encore of Bach, the Andante from the Italian Concerto. It was sensitively played, although I couldn’t agree with all of the pianist’s ornamentations. A second encore was Bach’s Prelude in C major (Well-Tempered Clavier, Bk. I). It exuded a certain lovely reverence until the tacking on of a jazz ending after the close, a strange (some would say heretical) add-on for a piece that still inspires debate over even a single measure (the “Schwenke” measure, no. 23, which Mr. Bi rightly omitted).

It was an auspicious debut – and this will be an interesting career to follow!

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

Legato Arts Presents Ivan Ženatý in Review

Ivan Ženatý, violin, Dmitri Vorobiev, piano

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

April 9, 2019

It is one of the joys of long-term reviewing (nearly thirteen years now) to re-hear an artist one praised years before and find one’s earlier impressions not only confirmed but intensified. In 2012, I first heard the violinist Ivan Ženatý in music of Dvořák, Janáček, and Smetana, and wrote glowingly. This week, in music of Robert Schumann, Edvard Grieg, Oskar Nedbal (1874-1930), and Juraj Filas (b. 1955), he was possibly even greater. His pianist was Dmitri Vorobiev, who was also superb.

For those who are not familiar with the Czech violinist, Ivan Ženatý, he has a discography of over forty recordings including the complete works of Telemann, Bach, Mendelssohn, Schumann, Schulhoff, Dvořák and Grieg, and his repertoire includes over fifty violin concertos from Bach through Britten. He has taught at the Cleveland Institute for Music and is currently Professor of Music at the Royal Academy of Music in Copenhagen. Being a prizewinner in the prestigious Tchaikovsky International Violin Competition some decades ago has become almost parenthetical among his credentials – and that says a lot. For more information one can visit www.ivanzenaty.com.

His program offered many enticements, not the least of which was the first work, Schumann’s Märchenbilder, Op. 113, from 1851. Though one generally falls in love with this set as a viola work, it works as a violin piece as well, with some parts simply raised by an octave, and others with reworked arpeggio inversions and the like. It was, in fact, dedicated to the violinist Joseph Wasielewski, a good friend of Robert and Clara Schumann. Though this listener still prefers the work on the viola, especially the inspired depths of the fourth and final piece, the music speaks in almost any incarnation as long as there are sensitive interpreters, and there certainly were on this occasion. Mr. Ženatý played with the refinement and thorough musicianship one has come to expect from him, and Mr. Vorobiev was right with him. There was the flexible artistry that is possible only with complete trust in the collaborators’ responsiveness. It didn’t hurt either that Mr. Ženatý plays a rare Giuseppe Guarneri del Gesu violin made in 1740 (thanks to the Harmony Foundation).

Oskar Nedbal (1874-1930), pupil of Dvořák, was the composer of the next work, the Sonata in B minor, Op. 9, for Violin and Piano. For full disclosure, I can’t recall hearing this Sonata in live concert ever, and though an internet search will yield some scattered recorded files of it, most are by – you guessed it – Ivan Ženatý. Nedbal may be best known for his shorter Valse Triste, which is in the repertoire of Czech orchestras. Mr. Ženatý has performed a valuable service for music and musicology by investing his energy and interpretive artistry into this work, and though the composer may not rival Brahms or Beethoven in a musician’s pantheon, it was fascinating to hear, both for its Dvořák connections and its idiomatic and brilliant writing. Both pianist and violinist conveyed its Romantic spirit and drama well, making short work of the spates of stormy virtuoso passages. They lent it the persuasiveness that comes from truly believing in a piece’s worth. I for one will aim to give it several more hearings.

Both players, despite the tremendous technical demands of the program, never flagged or played up the showman aspect with physical demonstrativeness. That integrity was familiar from Mr. Ženatý’s last recital, and he clearly has a gift for finding pianists with similar virtues. It was an evening of pure music-making at the highest level.

After intermission we heard Les adieux for Violin and piano by Slovakian composer Juraj Filas (b. 1955), who was present for the performance. As Mr. Ženatý wrote in the program notes, “During a very happy period in my life, I asked Juraj for a ‘Romance’ for Violin and Piano. Instead, he wrote, ‘Les Adieux’ for me in 2003, a romantic story about lost love; terribly sad but magically beautiful…” Indeed, the piece lived up to this description, with extremely poignant harmonies underscoring its lyrical lines. Mr. Filas came to the stage for a much-earned bow afterwards.

The final work, Grieg’s Sonata in C minor, Op. 45 (1886), was feast of music-making in all respects. From the first movement’s driving intensity – and the purity of its gentler E-flat theme – right up to the final movement’s triumphant major ending, there was no moment without commitment and character. Mr. Ženatý is far from self-indulgent, and because of such restraint, the listener is even more captivated by the occasional Romantic flourish, lingering, or slide. One heard the seasoned veteran’s ability to be expressive within boundaries and with respect for proportion.

Technically no hurdle was too great for this duo, and incidentally the piano lid was all the way up, with no problems of balance resulting. Mr. Vorobiev was able to keep the torrents of notes within his controlled grasp and unafraid to take the lead where called for, though never intrusively.

The audience gave a much-deserved standing ovation but rushed to sit down again at the prospect of an encore. When De Falla’s Spanish Dance was announced one could hear a gratified “mmm” from the hall, and no one was disappointed. Mr. Ženatý tossed off the Kreisler arrangement with dazzling skill and panache. As grounding as it was to hear such a thorough musician for an entire program, it was a delight to see him having fun just reveling in some fireworks. Mr. Vorobiev collaborated expertly.

Incidentally, not that one assesses an artist by his following, one simply could not help appreciating the audience itself – not for sheer size (though it was large) but for apparent musical awareness. The duo clearly attracted experienced listeners, and they responded to performers’ mastery. In many spellbinding moments, one could hear the proverbial pin drop (not the shuffling and unwrapping of candies, as often occurs). Upon entering one even overheard a ticketholder mentioning that he “came to hear the Nedbal” (and one wondered whether Nedbal himself had encountered that as often as he should have).

It was an evening to reaffirm one’s faith in unwavering high standards. Bravo!

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