Eric Whitacre, Composer/Conductor

Kelly Yu-Chieh Lin, Piano

David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center, New York, NY

April 14, 2025

It was a high-voltage weekend for Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) with several extravaganzas, but the fun just kept going on Monday at David Geffen Hall with another mega-choral  concert, this one presenting “an entire evening of the music of Eric Whitacre” (as the composer himself was in the awkward  position to announce in his introduction). With mock embarrassment, he quipped, “if that’s not your cup of tea, you may want to slip out soon”  – but of course, no one did. There, in that self-deprecating moment, you have a hint of his magic. He embodies – and shares through his music – such a range of human experience, from feet on the ground to head in the clouds, and all kinds of humor and complexity in between, that in order to dislike everything he’s written you’d have to be without a pulse.

The evening’s opener was With a Lily in Your Hand, composed in 1992 (when Whitacre was still a student) to a text of Federico Garcia Lorca (tr. Rothenberg). Like much of Whitacre’s music it evoked a feeling of wonder through his earnest responses to text and his expressive, tonality-based harmonies, but within a concise framework that never wore out its welcome. The Seal Lullaby (in a change of program order), followed with a dreamy setting of words by Rudyard Kipling. Composed originally in 2005 for DreamWorks (for a proposed film, The White Seal), it could have remained in the figurative “trunk” when the film was nixed in favor of Kung Fu Panda, but Mr. Whitacre, ever resourceful, kept the music alive (as he did also with a reworked setting of a Robert Frost poem, upon clashing with the Frost estate). Hinting, after the song received hearty applause, that the music could still make for a good film – and receiving audible approval from the audience – Mr. Whitacre then joked, “anyone who has 200,000,000 dollars, please meet me outside.” Luckily no one needs that in order to hear the music, but we’ve had a lot of the Panda – so how about a seal?

On the subject of animals, the program moved on to two sets of Animal Crackers, Mr. Whitacre’s supremely witty settings of Ogden Nash poems. He reminded us that, in his more than twenty concerts with DCINY over the last fifteen or so years, DCINY had commissioned these pieces. What a coup for DCINY. We heard Volume I (The Panther, The Cow, and The Firefly) and Volume II (The Canary, The Eel, and The Kangaroo), each one matching the terse brilliance of Nash with musical hilarity. If there are some more animal “contenders” left in Nash’s menagerie, I’ll add my pitch for more, please. The chorus, which we were told converged only 48 hours before curtain time, was superb in it all – around 350 of them – led by the dynamic composer himself and bolstered by the ever-supportive Kelly Yu-Chieh Lin at the piano.

On a side note, if such little gems seems facile, they are not. The timing of deadpan verses before musical “punchlines” is a tricky task, requiring mastery from composer and choir alike. The roaring beginning of The Panther could have been from Carmina Burana or any  similarly imposing choral work, setting up its comical close perfectly. The chorus has to be irritatingly robotic in the canaries’ song that “never varies” – and it was (and though we can’t envision “irritatingly robotic” quoted in the chorus’s next promo materials, it is a compliment here).

Next we heard verses from Margaret Wise Brown’s Goodnight Moon, the children’s book remembered so nostalgically by many, set and sung with tenderness. Once again, Mr. Whitacre’s embrace of everyday moments hit the bull’s-eye. The chorus navigated its tricky heights with only the occasional strain, and its challenging leaping intervals were handled bravely, with success all in all.

Moving on to text of Octavio Paz (tr. M. Rukeyser) from 2002, a song called A Boy and a Girl expressed musically the poem’s message about the power of silence. Very little could follow such a song, but the ubiquitous Cloudburst, with its remarkable percussive simulations of rain, was a spectacular and ecstatic close to the first half.

Mr. Whitacre hardly needs this reviewer’s affirmation (or any reviewer’s for that matter), as his appeal has reached all corners of the earth, through live concerts and with his Virtual Choirs uniting well over 100,000 singers from over 145 countries. Among the many choruses combined in DCINY’s forces at this concert, one was even named for him – the Whitachords. Others hailed from California, Georgia, Illinois, Michigan, Minnesota, New Jersey, Ohio, Pennsylvania, Tennessee, and Virginia. Like every Whitacre concert, it was a two-way lovefest, and the composer expressed his deep gratitude to the singers.

One of Mr. Whitacre’s most famous pieces Lux Aurumque opened the second half, and I’m happy to report that even after many hearings, it never wears thin. The silvery high notes were stunning, and one was sent into meditations over the miracle of sound.

The week’s second tribute to Leonardo Da Vinci followed in Leonardo Dreams of His Flying Machine (the first tribute on Sunday being Jocelyn Hagen’s piece reviewed here: DCINY Da Vinci’s Simple Gifts ). It lived up to Mr. Whitacre’s introduction of it as “an acid-warped dream” of the music of Leonardo’s day, and the choirs surpassed themselves. One could hardly imagine they had only had two days to put it (and all else) together.

Home (from The Sacred Veil) set to text by Charles Anthony Silvestri, combined the beauty of early love with notes of heartbreak, having been composed in remembrance of Mr. Silvestri’s late wife. It was deeply moving, and one has to  credit much of its expressiveness to its opening and concluding harmonies, played here by Ms. Lin at the piano. Her voicing of each chord was perfection. One was prompted to dry one’s tears with All Seems Beautiful to Me, set to Walt Whitman, and with the performance of the five marvelous E.E. Cummings settings in The City and the Sea. The finale of it, little man in a hurry never ceases to tickle one’s funny bone, particularly given Mr. Whitacre’s expressive conducting style.

Sing Gently closed the concert, with text and music written both by Mr. Whitacre in reaction to the Covid epidemic and premiered in July of 2020. Radiating prayerfulness and compassion, it was an inspiring close, eliciting an encore of one more song – called Sleep (2000).

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

Distinguished Concerts Singers International
Greg Gilpin, Conductor and Composer, Rachel Fogarty, Piano
The Sloan Canyon Wind Ensemble; Jordan Mathisen, Conductor;

Charles A. Maguire, David Maccabee, and Monica Guido, Guest Conductors

Cabrillo Choirs; Cheryl Anderson, Conductor

Jocelyn Hagen. Composer and Artistic Director

Stern Auditorium, Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

April 13, 2025

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presented yet another one of their trademark extravaganzas this weekend, and the title of it – Da Vinci’s Simple Gifts – only hinted at some of the content. The program was divided into three segments, including (before intermission) an array of choral works (including the famous tune Simple Gifts) performed by Distinguished Concerts Singers International, and then a group of instrumental works performed by Sloan Canyon Wind Ensemble. The third segment (after intermission)  was devoted to a multimedia piece entitled The Notebooks of Leonardo da Vinci by Jocelyn Hagen, sung by the Cabrillo Choirs (along with their own chamber ensemble, with visual projections on the stage wall). There was indeed something for everyone.

The first choral segment of the program, under the direction of composer/conductor Greg Gilpin, had its own title – “For the Beauty of Life” – a broad enough title to include all their selections. The first, For the Beauty of the Earth, composed by Mr. Gilpin, had a hymn-like simplicity that made it a perfect opener. Rachel Fogarty set the mood with her piano introduction, and Vanessa Tarter Rhodes wove her flute lines through it. The singers sounded well-prepared, and unity was no issue, despite their choruses converging from Florida, Indiana, Kentucky, New Jersey, New York, South Carolina, along with individual singers from around the world. In addition to their regular choral directors (who took a bow at the end), much credit goes to Mr. Gilpin, who clearly has a way of writing for and leading young singers. In 2012 for New York Concert Review, I wrote, “Mr. Gilpin seems destined for ever-widening popular appeal” – and not to say “told ya’ so” but he is fulfilling that prediction.

Balancing styles, the singers then broke into African rhythms with the Liberian folk song Kokoleoko (arr. Victor C. Johnson) about a rooster’s morning call. Percussionists Anthony Guerin, Kyle Hayden Dayrit, and Andrew Dix, were joined by hand-clapping and stomping choristers in a spirited performance. Returning to a more lyrical vein, The Bowl of Light by Penny Rodriguezfollowed as an uplifting songful plea to focus on what is positive. The singers projected its spirit, and the composer was present in the audience to receive a well-deserved ovation.

The two next selections were paired on a theme of water, first the famous Shenandoah, harmonized movingly here by Mark Patterson and featuring several youngsters from the chorus, and then an arrangement by Greg Gilpin of The Water is Wide, given subtle rhythmic undercurrents.

In a change from the printed program, Greg Gilpin’s own uplifting song followed, May You Love and Be Loved, inspired by L. Frank Baum’s words, featuring two intrepid young soloists from the chorus for the first lines. All the children gave their all, and they finished their segment of the concert with the traditional Shaker hymn Simple Gifts, arranged by Ryan Murphy with a livelier than usual piano figuration in the accompaniment. All the songs in this segment were tonal and accessible.

It is a lot to ask of an audience to sit in their seats for ten minutes while a stage is reset up for a different ensemble, but this seems to come with the DCINY territory. Most likely the families of participants don’t mind, but if a broader audience is to be courted – which much of this music deserves – there should be attention to such issues by those programming the concerts. Apart from these logistics, the second segment of the program was a joy, bringing the Sloan Canyon Wind Ensemble (Nevada) to the stage, with Jordan Mathisen and three guest conductors.

It was refreshing to hear such an exceptional ensemble consisting only of high school students, and as they took on the Midway March, by John Williams (from the 1976 film Midway) one marveled at how capably they handled it. May there be more schools cultivating such musicianship! David Maccabee, guest conductor, drew a driving heroic spirit from the group, with brass and percussion naturally dominating and winds holding their own superbly.

John Mackey’s tour-de-force Strange Humors followed, with Charles A. Maguire, guest conducting. The blend of djembe rhythms and exotic saxophone lines was mesmerizing. It was a hard act to follow, but the Shostakovich Folk Festival from The Gadfly Suite (trans. Donald Hunsberger) kept the energy up under conductor Jordan Mathisen.

George Gershwin’s Second Prelude followed in a clever arrangement by John Krance. Though originally for piano, the fact is that practically every ensemble combination that exists has an arrangement of it (and this reviewer has reviewed it in recent years for eight clarinets as well as for four cellos). It prospered in this wind arrangement, and guest conductor Monica Guido maximized the bluesiness of it. The slides were particularly delicious. The middle section seemed a bit fast (a point of some confusion, because Gershwin writes Largamente con moto, a seemingly mixed message – but Gershwin was recorded playing it rather broadly himself). Overall, it was a pleasure. A closer to the first half was the well-loved Symphonic Dance No. 3, Fiesta, by Clifton Williams, conducted with gusto by Jordan  Mathisen.

After intermission, a whole new concert seemed to emerge. The Notebooks of Leonardo da Vinci by Jocelyn Hagen constituted the program’s second half, and an all new chorus – the Cabrillo Choirs of California – came onstage with their own fourteen-member chamber ensemble (including one of practically each orchestral instrument, but two percussionists). Cheryl Anderson was the skillful conductor for it all.

About the piece, it is a nine-text piece of around thirty minutes, centering on the sketches and writings of Leonardo Da Vinci (1452-1519 – and with a birthday this week, April 15). The piece was premiered in 2019, and since then has been widely performed with synchronized visuals, including many of Leonardo’s famous paintings and drawings (as well as some modern footage of nature, the human physique, etc.), with credit given in part to Isaac Gale, Joseph Midthun, and Justin Schell. The nine movements span a wide range of the master’s interests, from Painting and Drawing, to Practice, Ripples, The Greatest Good, The Vitruvian Man, Invention, Nature, Perception, and Look at the Stars.

As the composer writes in her program notes, “Rivers of ink have been dedicated to Leonardo da Vinci, whose genius bridged art, science, and design.” Lest I add to these rivers of ink, I’ll be very brief and say simply that this work is infinitely fascinating. From the inviting flute lines of the introduction, to the probing lines that subsequently interweave and build to powerful choruses, it captures a sense of the amazing mind of Leonardo, from the dreaming imagination in Painting and Drawing to the industrious rigors of Practice. The visuals were particularly effective in the third movement, in which the music mirrors the water’s rippling magic through a central percussive “drop” of water and the ensuing oscillations. The Vitruvian Man movement was also engaging, as one meditated on visual proportions within musical proportions. Invention and Nature made a good segue, as images of birds followed those of Leonardo’s famous flying machine, inviting some dot-connecting.

All of this fascination would be perhaps moot if the music were not compelling in and of itself –  but fortunately it was. Ms. Hagen has a strong lyrical gift, and her music touches the soul as well as stimulating the mind. One will look forward to more from her. There is a project afoot with VOCES8, and one looks forward to that.

Big kudos are due to the Cabrillo choirs, who did an excellent job, with the only momentary reservation being some iffy intonation in upper registers during the eighth movement. All in all, though, this concert was a triumph. Big congratulations are in order to all involved.

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

Deke Sharon, Conductor, Arranger, & Creative Director

Distinguished Concerts Singers International

Special Guests: Shelley Regner, Backtrack Vocals, Michael Criso & Filip Rušin, Vocal Percussion

David Geffen Hall, Lincoln Center, New York, NY

April 12, 2025

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Total Vocal with Deke Sharon in Review

Deke Sharon, Conductor, Arranger, & Creative Director

Distinguished Concerts Singers International

Special Guests: Shelley Regner, Backtrack Vocals, Michael Criso & Filip Rušin, Vocal Percussion

David Geffen Hall, Lincoln Center, New York, NY

April 12, 2025

Lovers of a cappella flooded David Geffen Hall this weekend, as Total Vocal with Deke Sharon drew crowds both onstage and in the audience to celebrate their 10th anniversary. The presenters, Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY), blended multiple choruses into their Distinguished Concerts Singers International – and with the addition of guest groups their numbers easily topped 400 performers.

The forces were divided roughly in half, with a larger contingent of young children in the first half (as young as age eight, we were told), and it was awe-inspiring; nothing was quite as inspiring, though, as watching the leader of the a cappella revolution, Deke Sharon, bounding onto the stage, as if with a pogo stick made of pure musical energy. For those unfamiliar with the name Deke Sharon (is there anyone?), he has been a driving force behind the craze for a cappella singing here in the US and around the world for the past few decades. He is an arranger, conductor, singer, producer, and all-around Pied Piper, drawing new generations back into the time-honored a cappella tradition through concerts, movies, and television, particularly The Sing Off on NBC and the three Pitch Perfect movies.

The first chorus launched into a welcoming opener with Be Our Guest from Beauty and the Beast (Alan Menken), and it abounded with spirit, complete with showy leg kicks toward the end. As ever, Mr. Sharon gave illuminating commentary between works (which, synchronized with any shifts of staging, made the transitions feel seamless), and to introduce the next song, Flowers by Miley Cyrus, he announced that it they would sing it in tribute to the group Sweet Honey in the Rock, which has performed with sign language since the 1970’s – “decades ahead of their time” as he noted. Sure enough, this chorus signed while singing Flowers, and it was moving to behold.

A more rap-like feel was up next with Purple Reign, the featured ensemble for My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark/All I Do Is Win (Fall Out Boy, DJ Khaled), from Pitch Perfect 2. Their singing and movement had a primal energy that matched their bright red costumes (and they won my unofficial “best group title” award for the pun on Purple Rain).

More sensitive harmonizations came next from The Overtones from Illinois. In a departure from the printed program, we next heard Jim Steinman’s Total Eclipse of the Heart. As the evening boasted so many soloists, including many unannounced but very worthy ones, it would be a daunting prospect to single out all individuals within the groups – and this one listed ten – but suffice it to say that it was an “all for one, one for all” kind of evening.

As a surprise addition to the printed program, we then heard Run to You (a song by the Pentatonix, a group having much history with Deke Sharon), sung winningly here by Squad Harmonix from California (originally scheduled to sing Bridge Over Troubled Water, which was omitted). Squad Harmonix achieved a hallowed tone in the close-harmony introduction and gave it just the sensitive coloring I look for in a cappella singing.

The 1980’s hit Jessie’s Girl (Rick Springfield) followed, bringing out a group of young male singers from high school. It added a coming-of-age spark of fun. On a more serious note, Blackbird (John Lennon, Paul McCartney, 1968) came next, hearkening back with feeling to the Civil Rights era.

Mr. Sharon then introduced their special guest ensemble, New York’s own Backtrack Vocals, as a group in which each member “is a superstar in their own right” – and we got a good display of why. They are all strong singers with plenty of flair. They first sang Beethoven Medley (arr. Andrew John Kim), and the sound reminded this listener a bit of the days when the Swingle Singers were popular doing entire classical works with scat syllables. Here we had only excerpts, but they were in a clever mashup of the Fifth Symphony, Für Elise,  and the “Moonlight” Sonata –  with a reggaeton beat. They will surely be part of the inspiration for the next generation of a cappella youngsters. They continued with This Is Me from The Greatest Showman (Benj Pasek, Justin Paul, arr. Andrew John Kim & Nicky Brenner), given particularly haunting harmonizing in the introduction before breaking out into a rousing beat.

The full choral forces closed the first half with Be Kind byZac Abel, and it was prefaced with Mr. Sharon’s words on the importance in life of kindness and respect. He added that the beauty of a cappella singing is “show, don’t tell” what people can do when they work together – and they did just that. The youngest members truly shone in this song, taking some terrific solo turns. It should be mentioned that a lot of what gave much of the first half rhythmic life was the beatboxing of Michael Criso, who did a superb job. Equally stellar in this role for the second half was Filip Rušin.

The second half got off to a fun start with the second chorus blasting out Music for a Sushi Restaurant by Harry Stiles, almost as delightful as the hilarious program notes on it (among others) by Mr. Sharon, saying that it is about “flirting and falling in love over a plate of sushi. Or at least I think it is. If not, it makes absolutely zero sense.” The Stiles song was followed by another guest group, Googapella (from California), singing Guy I Used To Be (Lawrence, arr. Graham Toben), and the soloist Ricky Jacobson must be mentioned here, as he really carried the song – along with vocal percussionist Divya Mouli Jacobson. Still more fine singers came on to give performance of Bob Dylan’s Forever Young, a moving song that they did very sensitively.

Another warm introduction from Mr. Sharon was made for the next special guest, Shelley Regner, who gave a passionate showstopping rendition of Somebody to Love (Freddie Mercury); the show, however, did not stop! SoundCrowd from Canada came on to sing a swinging version of Friend Like Me from Aladdin (Alan Menken) – one of highlights of the evening – and on its heels was I Could Write a Book (Richard Rogers, Lorenz Hart), with none other than Deke Sharon himself as soloist. He dedicated it to his wife and gave it a knockout performance, complete with dazzling mouth trumpeting.

The fuller chorus took on Wichita Lineman (Jimmy Webb), which segued well to Just the Way You Are/Just A Dream from Pitch Perfect (Bruno Mars, Nelly) before the final guest ensemble, A.K.A. Crescendo from Croatia, came on for Rain On Me (Lady Gaga, Ariana Grande, arr. Dora Štefković Kanjer). They’ve been in other Total Vocal concerts and were excellent here, as expected.

To close the program, we heard the infectious refrains of I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For (U2), and many in the audience clapped along. Speaking of participation, Deke Sharon invited anyone interested in joining the a cappella troops to email him. It seems he won’t rest until the entire world is singing in harmony, and he may very well succeed. He listed from the stage all the ways to contact him, including his email: deke@dekesharon.com. If this concert couldn’t recruit the masses, what could? It was simply a perfect pitch (or is that Pitch Perfect?).

A winning encore of The Lion Sleeps Tonight sent many in the audience dancing and singing together. It was hard to fight back tears, being reminded once again how miraculously music can bring complete strangers together, where so much else fails.

In addition to all the abovementioned performers, the chorus included the Nashville Community High School Senior Jazz Choir, Williston High School Vocal Jazz, Ram Voices Of Hillcrest High, Baton Rouge Chorus Of Sweet Adelines, International, Lakehouse Music Academy Singers, Keiki Kani Choir, Pop Chorus, My Pop Choir Canada, Affinity Female Voice Choir, Revv52, Vocal Synergy, Vocal Academy@ St. James, The Iona University NightinGAELs, and RJR A Cappella. Happy 10th anniversary to Total Vocal with Deke Sharon!

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

Cantala Choir

Nancy Singla, director

Asal Iranmehr, piano

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

April 11, 2025

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) is well-known for its “big show” concerts, with several hundred performers filling the stages of such venues as David Geffen Hall and Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall. What is not as well-known is DCINY’s presentation of much smaller forces in more intimate settings. Tonight’s performance, featuring the Cantala Choir at Carnegie’s Weill Hall, was the latest offering in this vein. The title of the program, Songbird, is also the name of Cantala’s recent release of their 4^th recording, as well as the name of a work from that recording. It features works by Canadian composers, and is available for listening on all major streaming providers.

Founded in 2008 by Nancy Singla, Cantala is a Toronto-based choral ensemble. Cantala is a “musical home” for singers who both love choral music and are seeking excellence in performance. Nineteen vocalists took the stage under the direction of Ms. Singla. Cantala offered fourteen works. Most (nine) were sung a cappella. Asal Iranmehr was the pianist for the other five works (for the sake of not having to continually state which was a cappella and which was not, those five works were Lost Words, In The Days of Beauty, Cantique de Jean Racine, All the Little Rivers of Canada, and Blue Skies).

Before going any further, I would like to get some issues out of the way, As the majority of the works on the program were by Canadians, it would have been nice to have some basic biographical information about the composers. I would have liked to see texts for all the works as well instead of just a few. Lastly, and while this may seem extremely nitpicky, the printed program was marred with errors and typos – Ola Gjeilo was misspelled twice in the program,  Marie-Claire Saindon was listed as Claire-Marie Saindon (and Saidon), and Hamlet was listed as Sonnet LXXXVII. Mind you, these issues are not criticisms of the performers, but details do matter.

Opening with Songbird, by Sarah Quartel, the Cantala Choir, brought forth qualities that would be a recurring theme for the evening – excellent ensemble balance, clear diction (in four different languages), and precise intonation. One would think that all these qualities should be expected (and of course, they should be), but this was something above the norm, and it made a favorable impression on this listener. It was apparent that Ms. Singla had prepared Cantala to a highly polished level in what was an auspicious start.

Selections from Lost Words, using poetry from Robert Macfarlane, followed Songbird. The “lost words” refer to once commonly used words that have been removed from the Children’s Oxford English Dictionary. Cantala offered six selections of the set of twenty (each “word” set by a different composer). They were Dandelion (composer – Nicholas Tyan Kelly),  Ivy (Katerina Gimon),  Kingfisher (Marie-Claire Saindon), Lark (Carmen Braden), Willow (Monica Pearce), and Wren (Don Macdonald). While all were performed well, Kingfisher, whichwas colorful and suggestive of the water acrobatics of the Kingfisher catching its prey, Willow, with soaring high voices, and the clever “now you do, now you don’t”  lyric motif of Wren were favorites for this listener.

Five Shakespeare Songs (2018), by Bev Lewis was next. The texts were from Hamlet, The Merchant of Venice, Measure for Measure, As You Like It, and Sonnet 87. It would have been interesting to know why the composer chose these particular texts. In any case, the settings were sensitively and skillfully done. While I admired the entire set, it was the Take, Oh Take Those Lips Away (from Measure for Measure) that stood out in capturing the bittersweet melancholy of Shakespeare’s words. Cantala brought these qualities forth with subtlety, which made it impactful rather than overwrought in display of immature angst.

Yi Chin O, (by Quebec composer Cui Wei), and Yeux D’enfant (Marie-Claire Saindon), the final works on the first half, showcased Cantala’s multilingual talents, the first sung in Chinese, and the second in French.

After intermission, Cantala added yet another language to the evening, Estonian, with Muusika by Pärt Uusberg. Estonian is a difficult language for English speakers, and I can’t really claim to knowing more than a few words, but the diction sounded precise to my ears. Well done! Two works by one of the “big names” in choral music, Ola Gjeilo followed – Northern Lights and In Days of Beauty. In many of Gjeilo’s works, there is a simple, but fresh beauty that is abundant and which makes his pieces a favorite for listeners and performers alike. Cantala’s approach was flawless – there is no need to do anything “fancy,” but just let the music speak for itself. The effect was exquisite.

Samuel Barber’s To be Sung on the Water followed the Gjeilo selections. The text (a poem by Louise Bogan) is a mourning of the loss of love  (which had real life meaning to Barber when he composed this work), and Barber’s setting takes the listener on this emotional journey. Cantala took the listener on this journey with care and attention to Barber’s very evocative writing. After this, a cathartically energetic Cantique de Jean Racine (Gabriel Fauré, arr. John Rutter) was just right.

The final four works were a step away from the “serious” towards more “fun and light.” Cantala had already given plenty of proof that they were on-point with the heavier fare, so now it was time to have a little fun – and fun it was! A charming Waltzing Matilda (arr. Ruth McCall), some drumming and whistles in Woodsmoke and Oranges (Ian Tamblyn, arr. Rebecca Campbell), and a whimsical Canadian “river rollcall” in All the Little Rivers of Canada (Larry Nickel), led into a stylish Blue Skies (Irving Berlin, arr. Roger Emerson), which ended the evening. The audience responded enthusiastically.

All in all, for those of you who like hearing a choir without being subjected to the hackneyed handclapping and stilted “choreography,” in favor of one who makes it all about the music, bringing considerable musical excellence as well, the Cantala Choir is a group you would enjoy immensely.

by Jeffrey Williams  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

Steven Masi, piano;Barbara Mallow, cello; Diana Petrella, clarinet

Tenri Cultural Institute , New York, NY

April 4, 2025

The Tenri Institute was the venue for a concert entitled “Three by Chumbley plus Brahms” on April 4^th. The Chumbley works were Serenade for clarinet, cello, and piano ( a world premiere), 5 Bagatelles for solo piano (NY premiere) , and Brahmsiana II for solo piano. The Brahms work was the Trio for clarinet, cello, and piano in A minor, Op. 114. Pianist Steven Masi , cellist Barbara Mallow, and clarinetist Diana Petrella were the featured performers. A large crowd filled Tenri in anticipation of this concert. They were rewarded with fine performances of both a classic masterpiece (Brahms), and thought-provoking works from a prominent American composer.

Robert Chumbley is a composer/conductor/pianist whose work across a multitude of forms (opera, ballet, chamber, etc.) has attracted some of the outstanding performers of today and earned him praise from numerous publications, including The New York Times, The Chicago Tribune, and Cleveland Plain Dealer. Mr. Chumbley wrote the program notes for his works. He was also in attendance this evening.

Opening the concert was the world premiere of Mr. Chumbley’s Serenade for clarinet, cello, and piano (2023). This work was commissioned by pianist Steven Masi as a gift for his wife Diana Petrella in celebration of his 70^th birthday. Mr. Chumbley writes that Serenade takes the form of a fantasy, with the melodic material “sung” in the clarinet and cello, while the piano provides harmonic and rhythmical support. This ten-minute work is meditative and lyrical, emphasizing melodic coloring over virtuosic gymnastics. Ms. Petrella and Ms. Mallow were lovely “singers,” as they passed and shared thematic material. Mr. Masi was particularly attentive to Ms. Petrella and Ms. Mallow.

I would like to commend the performers for their sensitivity to the very live acoustics at Tenri. On many occasions here I have been “treated” to some ear-shatteringly loud performances by musicians who did not allow for the acoustic reality. Not so tonight – the players projected with clarity and confidence, but also with respect to the ears of the listener. Having the piano on the half-stick was also a prudent decision so as not to overwhelm his partners, but I believe that Mr. Masi would have adjusted accordingly regardless.

The New York premiere of 5 Bagatelles for solo piano (2018) followed the Serenade. These five miniatures share melodic material, with an arc that reaches its peak in the third, and recedes back in the final two. The idea of exploration of sound decay is paramount in all five, with some long notes decaying into new tones, and some that are quicker in displaying melodic continuity. Mr. Masi expertly projected the sonic concept of decay that made the effect quite compelling, when it could have easily come across as random sound effects. The third Bagatelle, with its acerbic tone and energy, was the highlight.

Brahmsiana II (2017) was the final work on the first half. The inspiration for the three intermezzi of Brahmsiana II came from Brahms’s Three Intermezzi, Op. 117, for piano. As Mr. Chumbley states, there are no quotes of Brahms’s music in his own intermezzi, but he incorporates compositional  techniques of Brahms. Mr. Masi has recorded this work on the Navona label. One can hear fleeting hints and instances of Brahms-like material, but these occurrences are more of the master “peeking in” – the style and harmonic language is unmistakably Mr. Chumbley’s. Mr. Masi’s attention to details of color made all the difference in a fine performance. Mr. Chumbley joined Mr. Masi on stage both to accept the congratulations of the audience and to express his gratitude for Mr. Masi’s excellent interpretation.

After intermission, Brahms’s Trio for clarinet, cello, and piano in A minor, Op. 114, was the final work on the program.

There were no notes on this provided in the printed program – and I am assuming that the idea was that this work is so well-known that it was thought not to be necessary. It is worth mentioning that this trio was inspired by the clarinetist Richard Mühlfeld (along with a number of other works). This four-movement work is about thirty minutes in length, with a somber mood overall. There is an alternate version with viola taking the place of the clarinet, but it was always Brahms’s preference for the clarinet.

Brahms explores the great range and versatility of the clarinet throughout. The first movement makes prominent use of the low C# that is not possible to play on a standard B-flat clarinet (the A clarinet is required), and the second movement makes generous use of the clarinet’s clarion and chalumeau registers. The cellist has some challenges in mirroring passages of the clarinet, as they can be quite awkward for the cellist in the wide-ranging passagework and arpeggiations.

Ms. Petrella, Ms. Mallow, and Mr. Masi offered a reading with close attention to detail and excellent ensemble playing, with precise intonation and articulation. While Ms. Petrella nimbly dispatched the virtuosic elements with style, it was her singing tone in the beautiful Adagio movement that showcased her artistry. Ms. Mallow showed no signs of any struggle with the awkward passages, and her tone was rich and full-bodied. Mr. Masi’s attentiveness was still notable, never overshadowing his partners while dealing with his own demanding part. The large audience responded with enthusiastic applause – it was a fine end to the evening.

by Jeffrey Williams  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

North/South Chamber Orchestra

Max Lifchitz, conductor

Anna Tonna, mezzo-soprano

Álvar Rubio Comino, piano

Donna Weng Friedman, piano

Diana Solomon-Glover, narrator

DiMenna Center for Classical Music, New York, NY

March 27, 2025

The North/South Chamber Orchestra, under the direction of Max Lifchitz, presented a concert entitled “From Barcelona to New York,” playing works by composers Anna Cazurra and Stefania De Kenessey at the DiMenna Center on March 27^th.  Both Ms. Cazurra and Ms. De Kenessey were present and spoke about their compositions.

The “Barcelona”  component was made up of three works by Anna Cazurra – Atlántida, Gran Tango and Tensho. Atlántida, Op. 6, for piano and chamber orchestra, opened the evening. Álvar Rubio Comino was the pianist. Atlántida is a single-movement work that straddles the line between a piano concerto and a piano chamber work. There is a strong tango-like feeling that reminds one of Piazzolla, with virtuosic piano writing that adds both drama and color to propel the work. Mr. Comino was outstanding in handling the technical challenges, but in also shaping and projecting the flavor of the tango without making it “hammy.” The string ensemble itself was uneven. There were moments of spirited playing interspersed with some jarring intonation issues. Gran Tango, Op. 73, which followed, had the same piano/orchestra combination – and a similar spirit. Mr. Comino again was the star, and some very stylish work from the strings, especially the double bass, was nicely done. Again, some of those intonation issues (especially in exposed areas in the high register) persisted. That’s one of the challenges of a small ensemble – even one player having a “sour” moment affects the whole.

Tensho, using a set of five short poems by the Catalan poet Carlos Duarte (b. 1969) as text, followed. Tensho is a Japanese word that refers to the notion of the emergence of a new era. Originally composed for soprano and piano in 2016, this version is a setting of these songs for soprano and string orchestra composed in November 2024. Mezzo-soprano Anna Tonna took the stage as the vocal soloist. One might expect the idea of a new era to be one of optimism, but the overriding feeling was one of lament, with the exception of the fifth and last song, El cel (The Sky), which was sunny with a snazzy tango spirit to boot.

Ms. Cazurra set these poems sympathetically. Her writing for the soprano captured the somber moods and laments with skill. Ms. Tonna brought these moods forth with a strength and clarity that was palpable. Her performance was the highlight of the “Barcelona” part of this concert. The strings were shown to better advantage here, and their addition did add “heft.” While this setting was interesting, I am not sure that it showed Ms. Tonna to her maximum advantage. I would be interested in hearing this work in the original soprano and piano version.

The “New York” component of the program was Stefania De Kenessey’s Microvids. About Microvids, Ms. De Kenessey writes, “Isolated and alone during the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, sitting at my piano, I was thinking more and more often about young musicians of every age, background and ability, trying to imagine their anxiety, their worry, their sense of confusion. What were they doing? What were they thinking? What were they feeling? More importantly, what could I do to help? The result was Microvids, 19 miniatures for piano, intended for beginner students of all ages. The title is a nod to Bartók’s Mikrokosmos, fondly remembered from my childhood, but the music is transposed to our own age and culture, with short pieces that are rhythmically compelling, musically tuneful, and – more importantly – emotionally uplifting. Microvids also features an interesting theatrical touch: each piece comes with a descriptive title and a short accompanying poem, penned by this composer (these additions were at the suggestion of pianist Donna Weng Friedman, who also suggested the addition of other instruments as well) . The premiere of Microvids, arranged for piano with string chamber ensemble, is dedicated to my esteemed friend and colleague, composer and conductor Max Lifchitz.”

What a fun work this is! Ms. De Kenessey has an undoubtedly strong ability to capture moods and paint tonal pictures with the simplest of means, which was perfect for these small pieces. The addition of the texts, spoken and performed by the dynamic Diana Solomon-Glover, added extra “hooks” for the listener to get more from the music. The North/South Chamber Orchestra gave their very best in this work, which made Microvids the highlight of the evening for this listener. The hero in all this would be pianist Donna Weng Friedman. These small pieces are obviously something a player of her ability could dash off in a coma, but she gave each and every piece the attention and commitment that one might reserve for a large-scale virtuoso work. That effort really made a huge difference. What could have been just another bored player plunking out “kiddie” stuff became delightfully impactful instead. I’d like to mention a few favorites – Running on Empty (nice work, violins!), In A Moment ( a little homage to Schubert), Fooled You (The Beatles peek in with a little “Hard Day’s Night” ), and That’s What You Think (a madcap frenzy). In this version, one could easily see a bright future for Microvids, especially for young audiences.

by Jeffrey Williams  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

WA Sinfonietta

Charles Neidich, conductor and soloist

Good Shepherd-Faith Presbyterian Church, New York, NY

March 23, 2025

Regular readers of New York Concert Review are well-acquainted with the WA Concert Series run by the noted clarinetists Charles Neidich and Ayako Oshima Neidich. Tonight marked the inaugural performance of the newly established WA Sinfonietta, under the aegis of the Artena Foundation (founded by the Neidichs). A recent article in New York Concert Review speaks about the foundation and the Sinfonietta’s mission (plus interesting details about this evening’s program), which the reader should investigate : A Conversation with Charles Neidich.  Tonight’s program mirrored the October 25, 1885 concert program in which Brahms’s 4^th symphony was premiered (though the Mozart Clarinet Concerto tonight replaced the Brahms Violin Concerto that was performed in 1885 ). A large crowd jostled for open seats as the hall filled in anticipation of this exciting event. I might add too that this was one of the most appreciative and supportive audiences that this listener can recall being a part of for some time. It was wonderful to see and hear.

Let’s get my main complaint out of the way. There were no printed program notes, but Mr. Neidich spoke before each work. When you are going to have “spoken program notes” it is imperative that the speaker can be heard by all in the hall without abnormal effort. Mr. Neidich (in his own words) does not have a “stentorian” voice, and much of what he said was not completely audible for much of the audience. Mr. Neidich has a wealth of knowledge to share, and it was regrettable that much of it was lost in the hollows of the hall. A microphone would have easily solved this issue.

Charles Neidich took the floor to be both the conductor and soloist for the Mozart Clarinet Concerto, K.622. Completed in 1791, it was, as Mr. Neidich reminds us, the last large-scale Mozart completed in his lifetime. He plays a version that is probably as close to being authentic as possible (the original manuscript having been lost) on the Basset Clarinet (for which it was originally written), which has an extended lower range.

This work is far and away the most frequently performed clarinet concerto. This listener has had the experience of both hearing it and playing it in ensembles with countless numbers of clarinetists eager to display their “chops” with varying degrees of success. I was anxious to hear what a player of Mr. Neidich’s caliber would do, coupled with the use of a basset clarinet instead of a standard clarinet. As the saying goes, “you’ve heard the rest, now it is time to hear the best.” As I said about Mr. Neidich in an earlier review, it’s not just about the virtuosity, but what you do with it. I’ve heard plenty of soulless exhibitions of technical prowess, and others with lovely tones in slower sections to cover for the muddy “slip-and-slide” passagework in the faster sections. There is none of this with Mr. Neidich – he has virtuosity in spades, and the singing lyricism is all in accordance with what he calls his “operatic” approach to this work. The lower tones of the basset are very rich and robust, and Mr. Neidich revels in them. The Rondo was especially notable for the way Mr. Neidich nimbly dispatched the virtuosic demands with crystal clarity. The audience gave him a loud and extended ovation, with several callbacks. The Sinfonietta deserves high marks both for following Mr. Neidich as a conductor and for taking his lead as a soloist – which is more challenging than when one conducts from the keyboard. A lot more vigilance and discipline is required from the orchestra here. It was a fine start to the evening!

Felix Mendelssohn’s Overture to Die schöne Melusine (The Fair Melusine), Op. 32 (the 1835 second edition), followed the Mozart. The piece was written in 1834 as a birthday gift for Mendelssohn’s sister Fanny. (Mendelssohn must have been a hard act to follow in the gift-giving department!) In a letter to Fanny, Felix explains that he had picked the subject after seeing Conradin Kreutzer’s opera Melusina the previous year in Berlin. In a nutshell, he hated it but was intrigued with the subject matter enough to write his own overture (perhaps his version of the alleged Beethoven quip, “I like your opera – I think I will set it to music.”). I’ll spare the reader the long story details and give the TL:DR version: Mermaid and man story ends badly. As Mr. Neidich joked, it takes longer to tell the story than it takes to play the overture! Schumann claimed he detected close musical references to the tale, which Mendelssohn denied, but it is clear there is music of happiness and storm that would mirror the outlines of the story to some degree. Clocking in around eleven minutes, it is an imaginative and lively piece that the WA Sinfonietta played with gusto (some might even claim, with too much so, but I will always take more than less!). There were some minor issues of balance, but these never really had any long-term negative impact.  Mr. Neidich is an involved and energetic conductor, and his ensemble reflected that back with great effect. The audience roared its approval in another extended display of enthusiasm.

After intermission, Johannes Brahms’s Symphony No. 4 in E minor, Op. 98, was the final work of the evening. Music historian and Brahms scholar Michael Musgrave, who was scheduled to speak, was ill and unable to attend. Mr. Neidich spoke in his place. There is much information in the previously mentioned link (A Conversation with Charles Neidich), especially about the Meiningen Court Orchestra and its importance to Brahms, which I’m not going to repeat here. I will mention that the WA Sinfonietta uses the same number of players as the Meiningen Court Orchestra. As for the addition of the unpublished four-measure introduction to the first movement that was played tonight (perhaps for the first time), I will say that in my opinion it was a little too similar to an idea in Beethoven’s 7^th Symphony, and its addition did not enhance anything. In other words, I am deferring to Brahms – if someone as meticulous as he was left it out, it was with good reason. My reservations notwithstanding, Mr. Neidich is to be commended for exploring this addition in the name of scholarship and seeking new paths in the interpretation of this masterpiece.

There was plenty of power in the opening movement, but a few cracked notes and imprecise attacks in the brass did occur, and there are still some balance issues to work out, which I am sure will most likely iron themselves out as this ensemble plays together more. Of course, this venue has a very live acoustic, so that was a complication. The second movement was notable for the lush string sounds, which were enchanting; the brass, however, was still having some issues with precision of attacks. The third movement was brimming with momentum as the ensemble really “dove in“ with intensity; the percussion, though, was overpowering at times. No doubt the players were caught up in the moment. The final movement is a passacaglia in which Brahms adapted the chaconne theme in the closing movement of Johann Sebastian Bach’s cantata, Nach dir, Herr, verlanget mich, BWV 150. The main theme is eight bars long and is heard at the very start of the movement. Brahms then repeats the theme in different variations precisely thirty times, always eight bars long. It might be a cliché, but the idea of saving the best for the last was in effect here. This was the WA Sinfonietta at their finest, bringing forth the magnificence of Brahms’s conception with the brilliance it demands. The audience responded with the longest ovation I can recall. A visibly moved Mr. Neidich shook hands with nearly all the members of the Sinfonietta as the applause continued unabated. What a promising start for this ensemble! The next concert for the WA Sinfonietta is May 13, 2025, at the DiMenna Center. I look forward to following their future endeavors.

by Jeffrey Williams  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

Rock Choir

Marcus Alleyne, Richard Toomer, Carey Camel, Directors

Stern Auditorium, Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

March 22, 2025

On Saturday, March 22nd, Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presented one of their most memorable concerts ever, bringing the world’s largest contemporary choir, called Rock Choir (www.rockchoir.com), from the United Kingdom to make its Carnegie Hall debut. To be more precise, we heard under one percent of Rock Choir, because, though over 300 members had flown in from London (filling some half a dozen risers on the Perelman Stage), the entire choir has actually around 33,000 members. Yes, that is not a typo – 33,000. Though we heard “only” around 300 choristers, with three dynamic conductors, there is a Rock Choir team in the UK of around 130 individuals (including 100 professional musicians) who lead tens of thousands from 400 communities across the country. They are more than a choir – they are a movement.

From the very first notes of their opening, Sweet Child O’ Mine (Guns N’ Roses), the chorus “had me at hello” (albeit with some minimal piped-in background music, as needed in a few selections). With their clapping on offbeats, swaying, and hearty voices, their energy was contagious. What followed was a stirring program of twenty-one pop and rock hits of all moods and styles, from 60’s and 70’s (Shake a Tail Feather, 1963, and Bridge over Troubled Waters, 1970) to the present day (This Is Me, 2017, Shallow, 2018, Green Green Grass, 2022, and Mountain, 2023). All three conductors – Marcus Alleyne, Richard Toomer, and Carey Camel – were skilled and charismatic, and their tag-teaming was swift and seamless.

The audience was invited to join in if moved to do so, because, as Mr. Toomer said, it’s “that kind of concert.” Many did join in. Especially fitting was the chorus’s exultant version of the second song, led by Carey Camel, What a Feeling (Giorgia Moroder, arr. Caroline Redman Lusher) from the movie Flashdance. The choice of this song seemed especially appropriate, in view of the movie’s famous audition scene, in which the Jennifer Beals character defies expectations in a winning performance. This chorus itself defied expectations here, for several reasons.  

One of the things that makes Rock Choir so special is its inclusivity. It was founded by Caroline Redman Lusher in 2005 on the belief that music has the power to unite communities and enhance the health and self-esteem of all who share in it. To this end, there are no auditions for Rock Choir. There is no musical experience necessary to join – not even the ability to read music. So, though this concert was expected to be a lovely event with a “feel good” mission, nothing about its background or the absence of prerequisites prepared one for the high standards we heard. The chorus was tremendous.

Over the course of the concert, the members sang in multiple parts, with impressive descants and some tricky suspensions and modulations, and they were nearly always beautifully in tune. Perhaps it is a case of the whole being greater than the sum of the parts, but if there was a weak voice or an unsure pitch, it was swept up in the power of music that expresses the full range of human emotions – grief, joy, and everything in between. Though mention was made of the benefits of being a member of Rock Choir, those benefits could be felt by their listeners as well, as one could sense audience members gradually shedding their inhibitions. Rock Choir’s joy, simply in being human, is contagious. Mr. Toomer mentioned perhaps starting such a group in New York, and he may have been joking, but yes, please.

Mr. Camel followed Flashdance with Video Killed the Radio Star of The Buggles (arr. Alex Hawker), and then I Wanna Be the Only One (Bebe Winans/ James Lawrence, arr. Josie Black), before Mr. Toomer returned to add his special touch to three songs, the Caribbean-inspired Green Green Grass (George Ezra, arr. Katherine Tye), the Whitney Houston favorite, I Wanna Dance with Somebody (George Merrill/ Shannon Rubicam, arr. Charlotte Nash), and Only You (Vince Clarke, arr. Caroline Redman Lusher). For the last one, Mr. Camel joined as piano support.

Mr. Alleyne brought the next three to life, starting with A Thousand Years (Christina Perre, arr. Josie Black), and it was enhanced by having Mr. Camel at the piano again and Mr. Toomer now adding violin (as he did elsewhere). There seemed nothing these three gentlemen could not handle together. In fact, one couldn’t help thinking that possibly with the addition of some portable percussion or a synthesizer, they could pull off an entire concert using nothing pre-recorded. It would be a great endorsement of purely live music, which needs every champion it can get right now. Mr. Alleyne then led the chorus in what was a concert highlight for this listener, Bridge Over Troubled Waters (Paul Simon, arr. Alex Hawker). Its gentle beauty was a welcome solace, and Mr. Camel handled the piano part well.

On a side note, there were a few diction surprises through the evening, and the latter song included one. Though American choruses often try to adopt British pronunciation (or as many say, the “correct” pronunciation), that choice can be startling in certain American selections, such as Bridge Over Troubled Water. As it had been made famous in the version sung by its New York composer, the British pronunciation of “water” really jumped out. No criticism is meant – it was just charming – but the chorus did capture a more regional American flavor in some other songs, such as For Once In My Life, which Stevie Wonder popularized (Ron Miller/Orlando Murden, arr. Caroline Redman Lusher), and Shake a Tail Feather, sung famously by the Blues Brothers (Oath Hayes/Verlie Rice/Andre Williams, arr. Alex Hawker).

A special highlight of the program was This Is Me from The Greatest Showman (Benji Pasek /Justin Paul, arr. Caroline Redman Lusher), also conducted by Mr. Alleyne. Once again, the choice was particularly appropriate for a chorus that embraces singers of all levels, ages, and backgrounds. Every member seemed to belt out the recurring line, “This is me” as if it were written expressly for them.

Other songs included She Will Be Loved (Maroon 5, arr. Katharine Tye), conducted expertly by Mr. Toomer and I Don’t Want To Miss a Thing (Diane Warren – popularized by Aerosmith), handled sensitively by Mr. Alleyne. Mr. Camel then led an appealing performance of the UK hit Somewhere Only We Know (Keane, arr. Sam Smith and Josie Black) in the Lily Allen version.  

Mr. Toomer, along with keeping delightful and educational commentary going between songs, led several more favorites, including Like a Prayer (Madonna/ Patrick Leonard) and Jolene (Dolly Parton). Though there was a group of four songs left to be conducted by Mr. Alleyne to conclude the concert, Mr. Toomer threw the choice out to the audience as to whether the fourth would be played as an encore, depending on audience response. Naturally it was. No one was in a hurry to leave, it seemed, and one side of the audience had a group of people dancing. We heard excellent renditions of Shallow from A Star is Born (Lady Gaga / Mark Ronson, arr. Charlotte Nash), the ever-popular Hallelujah (Leonard Cohen, arr. Caroline Redman Lusher), and a particularly self-affirming version of Mountain (Sam Ryder, arr. Sam Smith), in which the line “I am a mountain” refers to the overcoming of obstacles in life. There were probably very few in the chorus for whom these lyrics did not resonate – for a start, managing the thousands of miles to come here and sing – but they certainly “hit home” for this listener as well.

With loud cheers and stomping, the audience demanded the encore of Queen’s Don’t Stop Me Now (Freddy Mercury, arr. Caroline Redman Lusher), and it brought the house down. Thank you, Rock Choir, and please come back soon!

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

Ian Hobson, Pianist

Tenri Institute, New York, NY

March 21, 2025

A full house at Tenri Institute Friday enjoyed an evening of Schumann, as renowned pianist Ian Hobson played yet another installment in his cycle of Schumann’s complete piano music (which has included piano-based chamber music). The project started some five years ago just before the pandemic derailed everything, and fortunately for us there are more concerts to go. This particular concert, entitled Colorful Album Leaves, included the Bunte Blätter, Op. 99 (Colorful Leaves) on the first half, and the Albumblätter, Op. 124 (Album Leaves) after intermission, a total of 34 miniatures. Schumann had wanted to call all of these Spreu (meaning “chaff”), as they were amassed over about twenty years of being cast aside. Thankfully, Schumann was dissuaded from using that title, as chaff they are not. In addition to their individual merits, one finds in them elements that illuminate Schumann’s larger works. They are, as the noted music writer Paul Griffiths calls them in his excellent program notes for this concert, “brilliant winnowed flecks.”

Pianist Ian Hobson should need very little introduction (to anyone who has paid attention in the music world for the last four or five decades), but a few words are in order. With some 60 releases in his discography, there is very little he has not covered, from the complete sonatas of Beethoven and Schumann to the complete variations of Brahms. From delving into lesser-known masters (such as Moscheles, Hummel, and Stöhr) to championing works by composers of today (Chumbley, Lees, Gardner, Liptak Ridout, and Wyner), his range is encyclopedic. Launched internationally in 1981 with First Prize in the Leeds International Piano Competition, he is one of those special prizewinning pianists whose momentum seems to have simply grown by the year, whether in the realms of conducting, educating, or cycles of live concerts.

Having heard and reviewed Mr. Hobson several times now, this reviewer has come to think of him as a “big” pianist, the description stemming not from his physical stature (though that happens to apply) or his sound (which also applies), but from his ability to convey the big picture, painting his interpretations in broad brushstrokes, with an architect’s grasp and without fussiness or self-indulgence. Generally one might not expect such a pianist to handle well all the delicate fluctuations of these miniatures – as Schumann can be rather “needy” – but what Mr. Hobson brought to them on this occasion was a refreshing clarity, perhaps akin to his conductor’s overview. In any case, it was welcome. We could enjoy the vista of hills and valleys without getting too lost in the flurry of foliage.

From the first notes the Bunte Blätter Mr. Hobson proved to be in fine form. The first piece in this set had been Schumann’s Christmas message to his wife Clara in 1838, and one could hear the sentiment in the pianist’s warmth of tone and phrasing. No. 2 flew by with Schumann’s characteristic restlessness, and No. 3 found Schumann’s famous alter-ego Florestan presiding. In the melancholy 4th piece (which became the subject for sets of variations by both Clara Schumann in her Op. 20 and Brahms in his Op. 9), we heard from another of Schumann’s alter-egos, Eusebius, and here Mr. Hobson’s control of voices was exceptional. On the subject of control, the little finger of his right hand proved capable throughout the concert of a more penetrating sound than many a flute or violin section. When he chose to highlight an important line, it was with the sonic equivalent of a Sharpie.

In the third and fifth pieces of the Op. 99, plus a few others, the high speed led to the occasional smudge, but this reviewer decided to tune out such imperfections, as there was so much music to absorb. On that topic, a half-century of experience warrants a certain reverence, and “teachable moments” abounded. As an example, there were times when this musician thought, “Oh, there could have been more made of that phrase” – but after two iterations or further development, the “more” would come, and magically so, thanks to not giving in to immediacy.

Favorites included the Sehr langsam (No. 7), in which the suspensions were heart-rending. The Praeludium (No. 10) was also memorable for its stormy drive. Ones that were harder to embrace included the Marsch (No. 11) – with the trio section’s incessant repeated chords emerging as a bit overbearing in this hall – and the Abendmusik (No. 12), which was simply hard to follow. These are not the friendliest of Schumann’s strays, but Mr. Hobson did give them a good home for the evening. He also brought to life the Scherzo (No. 13) and the quirkily humorous Geschwindmarsch.

After intermission, Mr. Hobson emerged with the score to the twenty pieces of Op. 124 (Albumblätter), but only, as he quipped to the audience, to check “which order” they’re in. Indeed, the music sat by the side of the rack, ignored until a quick check for sequence around the twelfth piece.

Highlights of this set included the Walzer (No. 4), which had a welcome liberty about it, and the winsome Wiegenliedchen, though it had more momentum than what one might expect from a lullaby. A less familiar one to this listener, the Burla (No. 12), was delightfully robust, and the next Walzer (No. 15) was beautifully ethereal. The final piece, Canon (No. 20), closed the concert with a hallowed feeling. One already looks forward to the continuation of the cycle on April 25, with a concert entitled Love and Nature III. Looking further down the road, Schumann and Hobson fans can save September 26, 2025 as well.

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

Chloe Chuyue Zhang, piano

Orpheus Classical, 2022

Fans of piano music, particularly Russian piano music, have a new collection to enjoy, the solo debut album of pianist Chloe Chuyue Zhang, released by Orpheus Classical. Listed at some sites as released in 2022, it was recently made available through multiple music platforms (Spotify, Apple Music, and more) and so is listed in some places as a 2025 release. Whichever the date may be, it is definitely worth a listen. It includes Prokofiev’s Seventh Piano Sonata, Op. 83, Rachmaninoff’s Variations on a Theme of Corelli, Op. 42, and Tchaikovsky’s The Seasons, Op. 37a.

It is not easy in this age to release something “new” from these three composers. There are countless excellent pianists  who have played and recorded Prokofiev’s Seventh Sonata and many who have played the Rachmaninoff Corelli Variations (actually based on a theme called La Folia once attributed to Corelli). For just the Prokofiev, the options are great, including Sviatoslav Richter, Vladimir Horowitz, and a virtual pantheon of greats. A search for those who have recorded the Prokofiev and Rachmaninoff yields another formidable list including Mikhail Pletnev, Vladimir Ashkenazy, Valentina Lisitsa, and too many others to name, though in most cases one would need to buy two separate recordings;  a striking feature of Chloe Zhang’s release, however, is the juxtaposition of both of these giants along with Tchaikovsky’s set of twelve miniatures, The Seasons. Although there is also a large catalogue of recordings of the Tchaikovsky set, this reviewer has never encountered the set alongside these two monuments.

It is a fascinating listening experience to hear all three in a row, in reverse chronological order as they are offered here. It is like experiencing a war ending with a cataclysmic battle (not a stretch, with the Prokofiev being one of the three “War Sonatas” from 1942), then collapsing into tearful and cathartic reverie about it all (Rachmaninoff’s Op. 42 dating from 1931, with shadows of war and loss never far) – and, to recover, spending months looking out a window, watching the world go by at a safe distance (from the rural Russia of Tchaikovsky’s The Seasons, 1875). To play all three requires a pianist of excellent technique and a wide range of expressivity, and Chloe Chuyue Zhang has both.

Dr. Zhang, who hails from Shenzhen, China, has achieved quite a few distinctions in music, including numerous concerts and broadcasts in the US, China, and Europe, and several prizes, notably First Prize in the Bradshaw and Buono International Piano Competition. Her studies include an MM degree from The Juilliard School with Jerome Lowenthal and a DMA degree from the Eastman School of Music, with Natalya Antonova. In addition, she has worked  with Robert Levin, Joseph Kalichstein, Alexander Kobrin, Alexander Korsantia, Matti Raekallio, Boris Slutsky, and Martin Canin.

Dr. Zhang’s recording starts off with a strong account of Prokofiev’s Seventh Sonata. She clearly has all the “nuts and bolts” well in hand, and she gives a performance of great clarity and detail. She shifts easily from sharp attacks to muted colors, from rapid repeated notes to stomping bass chords – the whole range. She does tend, overall, to favor staccato articulations where not notated, such as in the opening, but there are naturally varying interpretations possible here. One of my favorites is a performance by Horowitz (Carnegie Hall 1951), who by contrast has a rather slithery legato to start, setting a sinister tone for the movement. Richter’s is more detached – and many have considered him the last word, as Prokofiev entrusted the premiere to him. At any rate, Dr. Zhang’s clean detached approach works well and is intensified by the recording quality, which is exceptionally clear as well.

The second movement begins movingly, with warmth of sound, as marked, caloroso, and its dramatic arch is also built skillfully. One was a bit perplexed by the delivery of some triplets in the poco agitato section (as they seem to resemble a different rhythm), but then again, rhythmic interpretations are not always literal, and without multiple conceptions we wouldn’t need multiple recordings. The overall effect is persuasive.

Dr. Zhang also handles the infamous last movement with dispatch. There seems to be no challenge in it that she cannot handle with ease – and one’s only reservation relates to the fact that it seems almost too easy. It is quite exciting, without question, but this listener wants even more ferocious, unbroken energy (even when in lower dynamic levels). Naturally this is easier to transmit in live performance. In a recording studio, the focusing on details (marking phrase ends, tapering of motives after accents, etc.) can detract a bit from the inexorable drive of the piece. At any rate, she gives the piece an impressive powerhouse finish.

Few works could be more welcome after the Prokofiev than Rachmaninoff’s Op. 42, and this pianist gives the haunting opening theme just the right transparency of tone. Though your reviewer prefers a more gentle, gradual unfolding afterwards in the first variation – and more leggiero feel in the second – it is, all in all, beautifully done. Dr. Zhang in her program notes points out that the Op. 42 is unlike Rachmaninoff’s “more overtly virtuosic” compositions in its nuance and intimacy. That is true, though it has some deceptively difficult technical challenges. She is on top of nearly all of them – from the registral shifts in Variation V to the rather awkward leaps in Variation XX, which are exemplary in her hands. Only in Variation X, with a slight slowing of the parallels, does she betray any hints of strain, but she re-establishes her command with force in Variation XI.  Especially captivating are the harmonic twists and turns in Variation VIII and quixotic changes in Variation XII. To this reviewer, there could be more care in the shaping of phrases in the meltingly beautiful Variation XV – as well as a bit more freedom in the Intermezzo – but overall, the great beauty of this masterpiece comes through.

After the blistering brilliance of the Prokofiev and heart-rending pianism of the Rachmaninoff, the Tchaikovsky character pieces seem almost like playthings, but they are admirable in their own right. They were commissioned in 1875 by Nikolay Matveyevich Bernard, editor of Nouvellist magazine, to be released one per month to the readership, with each piece representing a month of the year (and subtitled by Bernard). If they strike one as salonish, it is because they hearken back to the days when there were pianos in so many homes that a player of moderate ability might have played them (hence amplifying Tchaikovsky’s income). They are worlds away from the Tchaikovsky most of us know for his symphonies and concerti – but several of them, treated as singular gems, have attracted programming by virtuosi – including by Rachmaninoff himself.

To perform the whole set requires special patience, and where Dr. Zhang stands out is that she does not overdo anything. Though these pieces have been used by teachers to cultivate expressiveness in young pianists (resulting sometimes in miniature dramas), Zhang’s playing is notable for its simplicity and restraint. This quality is particularly appropriate in pieces such as January (“By the Hearth”) where, upon repetition of the same phrase – largely the same way – one can envision the recurrence of almost workaday winter pastimes.

February (“Carnival”) is festive in her hands, with ringing clarity, and her March (“Song of the Lark”) follows with melancholy. In April (“Snowdrop”) there is a sparkling, balletic quality, reminding one that Tchaikovsky was just finishing Swan Lake as he composed this – and her stretching at the end is graceful and lovely. May (“Starlit Nights”) conveys both brooding to reveling.

The June movement (“Barcarolle”) is one of the more popular ones in which it is hard to “unhear” the magic of a century of artists who have played it, but Dr. Zhang captures much of its beauty. Perhaps the melody could transcend the meter more at times, but again, this is personal.  The pastoral calm and eventually more bustling feeling of July (“Song of the Reaper”) take us to an August (“Harvest Song”) of frenetic, Schumannesque energy, contrasting with its gentler, more intimate middle section. Shades of Mendelssohn color the prancing September movement (“Hunter’s Song”) and the perennial favorite, October (“Autumn Song”),  exudes special tenderness. The set concludes well with the pianist enjoying the ride of November (“Troika”) and the lilting waltz of December (“Christmas”).

Classical musicians will undoubtedly choose their own favorites to listen to from the entire collection, but it is also worthwhile to hear everything in a row and experience it as a recital. Kudos to Dr. Zhang!

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