Zeze Xue, pianist

Klavierhaus, New York, NY

December 28, 2024

Pianist Zeze Xue was the young soloist at Klavierhaus this weekend in a concert not to be forgotten and not apt to be duplicated. As background, I had reviewed Mr. Xue favorably in 2021 – once after a recital in Bruno Walter Auditorium and once for a compilation video celebration of the 85th birthday of his teacher Solomon Mikowsky (who left the world this March and to whose memory this weekend’s recital was dedicated). Mr. Xue’s performances were certainly impressive three years ago, but his wide-ranging and highly ambitious program for Saturday was an even more tantalizing prospect. The concert would open with J. S. Bach’s Italian Concerto and continue with Sergei Rachmaninoff’s sprawling set, the Moments Musicaux, Op.16. The second half was to focus on music of the United States from the 20th and 21st centuries, including works by Charles Tomlinson Griffes, George Gershwin, Samuel Barber, John Cage, and Elliott Carter.

Though the program was generous (lasting around ninety minutes), it never “wore out its welcome.” Spanning the gamut of pianistic styles, it was curated in such a way that it stimulated but did not tax the listener; it did, however, present just about every challenge a pianist could undertake, from the precise transparency of line in the Bach to the wide range of textures and emotions in the roughly thirty-minute Rachmaninoff set. The second half moved to different demands, starting with the coloristic nuance of the Griffes Three Tone-Pictures and continuing to the “Americana” and jazz styles in Barber’s Excursions and Gershwin’s Songbook. In complete contrast came Cage’s In a Landscape, requiring a sustained trance-like calm, and Carter’s Caténaires, demanding detached digital ferocity. Few pianists could cover such a massive range of repertoire convincingly within a single program, but Mr. Xue did just that before a grateful capacity crowd.

Bach’s Italian Concerto established a heraldic spirit as the opening. The first movement celebrated with robust sound and rhythmic energy. It was immaculate, with impressive clarity in each note. Occasionally, given the very bright instrument and resonant space, there could have been more moments of piano lightness, but the overall exuberance was welcome. The second movement introduced my only real reservations of the evening (admittedly personal ones), which centered on a desire for more sustained and shaped melodic lines. To this end – though many prefer Bach without much or any pedal (as it seemed Mr. Xue does) – just a dab here and there might have helped the arioso treble to offset the very uniform “footsteps” of the bass. There are countless approaches to Baroque music as played on the piano, but one credo is that the very act of playing it on a modern piano makes it, in a sense, a transcription, so (with due respect to early instruments) one might as well take advantage of all that a piano offers. In any case, it was devoutly rendered, and the final movement positively danced.

The six Moments Musicaux took the listener forward in time a century and a half to a ruminative Rachmaninoff – and to quite a different musical world. Mr. Xue was more than up to shifting gears, and he showed a stellar grasp of all the work’s demands. No. 1 in B-flat minor was poignant and doleful, soaring beautifully in the con moto section. No. 2 in E-flat minor exuded yearning with its corruscating chromaticism. The funereal No. 3 in B minor was heartbreaking in the stoic restraint Mr. Xue lent it, and No. 4 in E minor cried out with passion and brilliance – eliciting applause before the entire opus was over. No. 5 in D-flat major probably would have sounded more settled without having to follow that outburst, but Mr. Xue may need to get used to such applause in “regrouping” for the perfect autumnal mood; that being said, he conveyed much of its warm beauty. The final piece of the set, No. 6 in C major, was startlingly good – one of the best performances of it in memory. Your reviewer, a lifelong devotee of Rachmaninoff, will confess to normally disliking this one piece, which tends to display more muscle-flexing than the kind of imagination for which the world loves this composer (or was it haste to get the music to the publisher at this vulnerable time in his life?); in this concert, however, Mr. Xue gave it just the bravura ride it needs. He “sold” the piece in a performance of boundless energy and heroism.

Non-pianists may want to skip this next paragraph, but the Moments had a few curious readings (no, not finger slips, as one can tell the difference, and there are a few differing editions around). One was the left-hand chord in the cadenza of No. 1 (where there is usually a G-flat – m. 57), and one was in No. 2 (mm. 34, 37 where the melody generally returns to E-double-flats, and analogous spots). These are mentioned only because the likelihood of recording the entire set seems strong, and before doing so, there should be “no stone unturned” among editions (or, as violinists like to say, “no tone un-Stern-ed”).

Onward to the second half, more variety ensued. Mr. Xue mesmerized us with the lapping waters of The Lake at Evening from the Three Tone-Pictures, Op. 5, by Griffes, and – not far from the world of Debussy –  the impressionism continued with The Vale of Dreams, which was magic in Mr. Xue’s hands. The Night Winds closed the set with glistening sweeps.

Refreshingly, eight songs from the Gershwin Songbook followed – not in the more elaborate transcriptions one hears by Earl Wild and others, but in Gershwin’s own settings, quite effective as they stand (though this reviewer finds it hard to “unhear” Wild’s Etude on Fascinating Rhythm). Highlights were The Man I Love, which opened dreamily, a very playful Stairway to Paradise, and the finale, Strike Up the Band. The others –  Lady Be Good, Clap Yo’ Hands, Somebody Loves Me, and That Certain Feeling – were all excellent as well.

Mr. Xue continued to offer gems with Barber’s treasured Excursions. The riveting rhythms of the first, the nostalgia of the third, and the superb repeated notes in the hoedown fourth movement were all just right. The blues of No. 2 were quite persuasive too (though there may have been another curious reading in the treble around m. 26-7?).

As a complete break in style, next came Cage’s In a Landscape (1948). It is a gently drifting musical meditation of about nine minutes on a few repeating or similar patterns. In it, Cage captures to a tee the timeless floating style that one sometimes associates with his predecessor, Erik Satie, but which was to be explored more fully by minimalist (and “New Age”) composers starting around a decade and a half after this was composed. Mr. Xue hypnotized his audience with it and then blew us away with a dazzling finale, Carter’s Caténaires (2006). Bravissimo!

After a standing ovation and bow, Mr. Xue commented that he had worked very hard on this program and was glad that we had liked it. Several called out, “We did!” – and another followed with, “A LOT!” Considering that your reviewer had heard one of those very voices at intermission sighing that the second half was going to be “all modern music,” it seems that Mr. Xue performed an important service for his audience (and for new-ish music). As an encore, he gave a charming rendition of a Chinese folk song entitled, Why are the flowers so red?

Upon a brief browsing of Mr. Xue’s recent concerts, it appears that he has been performing a large range of substantial repertoire, including Bach’s Goldberg Variations, the complete Chopin Scherzi, and other massive solo works of Schubert, Scriabin, Albeniz, Ravel, and Rachmaninoff – including concerti – all apart from this weekend’s program. His career appears to be on the upswing, and deservedly so. Despite what we read in his biography about a teaching load of forty students, he is making his mark as a performer. One eagerly awaits his next concerts!

Ian Hobson, piano

Lucia Lin, violin

Ko Iwasaki, cello

Tenri Cultural Institute, New York, NY

December 13, 2024

Tonight’s concert featured pianist Ian Hobson and friends in the next installment of Mr. Hobson’s exploration into the complete piano works of Robert Schumann (1810-1856). Because chamber music was a large part of Schumann’s output, he chose to focus on the piano trio this evening – a genre deeply cherished by  many composers. Mr. Hobson shared the stage tonight with violinist Lucia Lin and cellist Ko Iwasaki.

The program began with Schumann’s Piano Trio No. 2 in F major, Op. 80 – a work that was apparently well-regarded by his wife Clara. She writes, “It belongs among those pieces of Robert’s that, from beginning to end, move and charm me in my deepest soul.”

The first movement, Sehr lebhaft, began strong but wasn’t as rhythmically taut as it could have been. As the movement went on, there was more of a sense of unity within the trio, and we were able to enjoy a development section that was full of vivacity and energy.

The second movement, Mit innigem Ausdruk, felt anxious and rushed, missing the serenity and calm inherent in its character. Additionally, the piano’s weighty tone at times overpowered the ensemble. However, the middle section stood out for its profound inner expression, beautifully rendered by Mr. Iwasaki and Ms. Lin. The third movement, In mäss Bewegung, communicated a healthy pulse at first but left the listening wanting more poetic interplay between the instruments.

The last movement, Nicht zu rasch, was full of joy and verve. This expansive movement is a very Schumannesque final movement- a driving pulse with intricate and imitative thematic material between all the parts. The ensemble was successful in delineating all these voices with great clarity. The movement ended with a big flourish.

The next trio on the program, the Piano Trio No. 3 in G minor, Op. 110, composed in 1851, provided a striking contrast to the previous work. The alluring opening was performed with gusto – however, sometimes the piano could have left room for the strings to sing out. The second section lacked an air of mystery, and the more fugal passages could have been executed with greater rhythmic and sonic precision. Despite these challenges, violinist Ms. Lin anchored the ensemble effectively, leading to an exciting climax in the first movement.

The second movement, Ziemlich langsam, struggled to convey a true sense of collaboration; while the ensemble played together, they didn’t always seem fully on the same page. However, the second section delivered a dramatic intensity that culminated in a tender and touching conclusion. The final movement marked a turning point, as the ensemble began to gel, presenting a well-crafted and thoughtfully paced finale.

The second half of the program featured the Piano Trio No. 1 in D minor, Op. 63. The opening of the first movement, Mit Energie und Leidenschaft, was fiery and confident, setting the tone for the work. The transitions between sections were worked out well and there was a suppleness in the lines, particularly from the violin.

The second movement, Lebhaft, doch nicht zu rasch, had the violinist in command. It was rhythmic but not always communicating excitement – it was a rather cold reading, but the trio managed to hold the movement together well and the ending was brilliant. Next was the third movement, which had a bit of a reserved quality. It would have been lovely to hear more color changes throughout and a more careful approach, though it was still well-crafted. The final movement, Mit Feuer, had a lighthearted quality which the trio was able to communicate well. The changes of character were well-planned and the interaction of the members of the trio was successful.

These three Schumann Piano Trios, though sometimes sprawling, are a generous contribution to the genre. What a treat it was to hear them all in one concert this evening! It is clear that Mr. Hobson’s commitment to this composer allows him to delve deep into the intricacies of his compositional style for the piano, and, in tonight’s case, chamber music. The Schumann cycle continues March 21, 2025, where Mr. Hobson will present Colorful Album Leaves.

Balázs Fülei, piano

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

December 9, 2024

Before taking the stage last night in front of a packed Weill Hall, pianist Balázs Fülei was introduced – by a former college mate – as “one of the nicest people in the world.” After listening to this recital, I tend to agree with that statement, although I’m not sure that is indeed the compliment it was meant to be…

Mr. Fülei is a more than capable pianist, with an impressive resume, but to my ears he sounded a bit too “civilized.” As long as the music asked for straightforward storytelling and for conquering treacherous passages (such as in the extensive Liszt transcription in the second half of the program), this pianist provided a solid account. However, when things got rougher, musically speaking – such as in the Beethoven and Chopin pieces – Mr. Fülei was somewhat less convincing.

In a charming intro to the evening, Mr. Fülei explained that he sees this program as made of questions (the first half, which included Chopin’s Fourth Ballade and Beethoven’s Piano Sonata No. 23 in F Minor, Op. 57, Appassionata), followed by the voice of conviction (the second half, with works by Bartók, Liszt and Kodály). Personally, I felt that his choices were more along the lines of “homage to the Gods” (first half) and “homage to my home country” (second half). Still, if we are to play along with the pianist’s own description, I dare say that he is more apt at providing answers than asking the big questions…

Chopin’s Fourth Ballade is an over-played but elusive masterpiece; it is equal parts of ancient legend and searing drama. In a really outstanding rendition, the pianist needs to master the intricate texture (highly chromatic and often quite dense) and rise above the complexities of the score, making it sound fresh and almost improvisational. Even from the very first bars, Mr. Fülei seemed earthbound, employing a tad too much rubato and a slowish, deliberate pace which dragged things down instead of lifting them up. The main theme sounded more declamatory than intimate and flowing. He did, however, produce some very nice colors along the way. He also tended to “slap” some of the higher notes in the melody, instead of allowing them to sing. Perhaps because the beginning of the piece felt too “real,” the big climax at the end did not have the necessary impact.

Beethoven’s Appassionata is another warhorse of the piano repertoire, and one with considerable challenges even for the most accomplished performers. In the first movement, one of the most difficult tasks is to keep a relentless pulse – like a heartbeat – throughout the movement and yet make it sound completely free and organic. The three-note motif (on which the entire musical discourse is built) feels almost like a Hamletian Dilemma and it is shrouded in mystery and philosophical undertones. Here we arrive again at the point of “questions” – this being a really big one! – and I felt that Mr. Fülei only scratched the surface of what Beethoven attempted to convey. I also wished for more unity of tempo, instead of offering a slightly different pace for every new passage. The second movement was generally played too loudly, almost in a continuous mezzo-forte, in a terre-à-terre fashion not aligned with the spiritual content of the piece. The stormy finale was generally technically mastered but in my opinion lacked the cumulative effect of an impending wave which sweeps everything in its way. 

In the second half of the recital, Mr. Fülei provided more information about each piece he performed, and he did so with his usual grace and humor. He began with a set of Romanian Christmas Songs, arranged by Béla Bartók. These traditional Romanian Christmas carols, called Colinde, have an ancestral resonance to them, full of mystical touches. There is nostalgia and a feeling of loss and longing (the word “dor” – almost impossible to translate, though close in meaning to “longing” – comes to mind). Yes, there are perky rhythms, which Mr. Fülei attacked with bravura, but the melody – and there is always a melody – needs to shine through and sing (interestingly, in the Romanian language you “sing” an instrument, you don’t play it!). 

Next came the most intriguing and, for me, the best performed piece of the evening. Liszt’s Christus Oratorium (originally written for orchestra) is not a piece I am familiar with. Based on Liszt’s own piano transcription, of which we’ve heard two movements last night, I’m not sure I want to know it better. The music is repetitive, occasionally bombastic, and mostly uninspired. And yet, this is where Mr. Fülei’s gifts truly came to life: telling a story, letting the music breathe, building phrases to reach climaxes. He drew orchestral sounds from the instrument and, in spite of the lackluster quality of the music, he captured my attention for almost half an hour! He found humor in the story of the shepherds by the manger and created a dreamlike atmosphere as the three holy kings bestowed their gifts upon the newborn child. He played with commitment and made a strong case for a work which I’m not sure deserves it – but that is one of the highest achievements a performer can reach.

The last piece on the program, Kodály’s Dances  of Marosszék, was a fitting finale to the recital. This is a great work, again inspired by Romanian folk, and Mr. Fülei played it with spirit and gusto! I would have liked to feel more of a common thread running through the different sections, and perhaps the pedaling was over-generous at times, but it was a joy to listen to the imitation of several folk instruments and bask in the excitement that Balázs Fülei shared with us!

Jihye Chung, Piano; Guest Artist: Jihoon Chung, Violin

Zankel Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

December 7, 2024

Korean-born pianist Jihye Chung gave her New York debut recital at Zankel Hall (at Carnegie Hall) this Saturday and showed that she is a musician with much to offer. In a program made up of Sonatas by Scarlatti and Mozart, two Chopin Ballades(Nos. 1 and 3), and Grieg’s Piano Sonata, Op. 7, she also included a duo, Schubert’s Violin Sonata in D Major, D. 384, played with her violinist brother Jihoon Chung.

Ms. Chung’s biographical notes mentioned that this year has included – along with this New York debut – a concert at the Seoul Arts Center, and one assumes there will be many to follow. Her studies and performances have taken her from South Korea to Germany. In Germany, where she lived for thirteen years, she studied at the Hochschule für Musik und Theater München with Franz Massinger, Prof. Yuka Imamine, and Prof. Gitti Pirner (earning a diploma, a master’s degree, and a Weiterbildendes Zertifikatsstudium Meisterklasse) and later at the Hochschule for Musik Carl Maria von Weber in Dresden, with teacher Yevgeny Feldmann. These studies seem to have had a strong impact on her, as she plays with great dedication to detail, bringing focus to her natural musical spirit.

Ms. Chung walked onstage clad in black and with great purposefulness. From the very first notes of her set of Scarlatti Sonatas, she held her audience rapt, including this reviewer, who knows these works intimately. Every phrase had clearly been considered thoroughly, shaped artistically, and delivered with persuasive commitment and assuredness. The first Sonata (D major, K. 96) was exceptional for its delicate rapid repeated notes (to be heard again later in the D minor Sonata, K. 141, often referred to as Toccata), but most importantly Ms. Chung projected its ebullience, savoring the dissonances of its Iberian influences and the playful (but tricky) hand-crossings. The slower A major Sonata(K. 322) was a gem in Ms. Chung’s hands as well. It had a purity of expression and clarity of phrase that captivated her listener. If one says that there was nothing exaggerated or demonstrative – true – it should also be stressed that there was also never a dry or dull moment. There was no note without life or direction. The ever-popular C major Sonata (K. 159) followed with crispness and energy, and the set of four ended brilliantly with the Toccata.

Mozart’s Sonata in B-Flat major, K. 570, followed with similar excellence. Her performance got to the heart of the piece, spotlighting each compositional “event” with care. The first movement stood out for its colorful exchange of voices and that operatic quality that helps bring Mozart’s piano music to life. The second movement enjoyed carefully varied (but never fussy) articulation, and it felt like chamber music throughout, from its horn-like opening onward. Occasionally, one wanted a touch more breathing space, but here it seemed the pianist was focused on keeping the pace, as she also did in the last movement. Though this reviewer prefers the sixteenth-note runs in this Allegretto to have a more “granular” quality, they flowed forward like liquid – at any rate, the piece concluded in high spirits, with its closing measures conveying Mozart’s characteristic mischief.

For the last work before intermission, Ms. Chung was joined by her brother, skilled violinist Jihoon Chung, in Schubert’s Violin Sonata in D major, D. 384 (composed in 1816 when the composer was just nineteen years old). Schubert is often described as having one foot in the Classical Viennese style of Haydn and Mozart (with hints of Beethoven’s influence naturally), while the other foot moved towards the Romantic spirit of later composers. There is consequently a question of which way interpreters will lean, particularly when there are two or more players. It seemed in this duo’s interpretation that the pianist leaned more towards the pristine classical restraint we had enjoyed in the Mozart Sonata, while the violinist looked ahead to the world of later Romantic violin concerti in matters of tone, vibrato, and phrasing. Not to set up false dichotomies – as there can be huge overlap in expressiveness even across many centuries – but one imagines that there will be more of a meeting of minds with more performances together.

After intermission (and a colorful change of wardrobe), we heard two Chopin Ballades, No. 1 in G minor and No. 3 in A-Flat major. Again, the question of style arose, as there seemed a Beethovenian deliberateness that did not quite serve these creations. From the opening of the G minor Ballade, which was suitably ponderous, there was an increase in weightiness that kept the piece earthbound, even where Chopin starts to soar in reverie. Where it seemed that Ms. Chung decided to  “take flight,” it appeared that her hands did not always agree, as they tended to gloss over some passages a bit uncomfortably. The end had one of the slowest starts to the octave accelerando in memory – undoubtedly a heartfelt decision, yet somehow skewing the piece’s proportions. Similarly, the A-flat Ballade felt a bit slow in spots (even for this reviewer, who often prefers slower tempi). Perhaps fatigue was setting in, as there was also a rather stubborn memory glitch around the grandioso towards the end. At any rate, one seldom likes everything in a concert, and the Scarlatti and Mozart had already been more than worth the trip – but there was more.

Grieg’s Piano Sonata Op. 7, concluded the program, emerging as a much better match for this pianist’s stylistic sense and technique. It gave the evening just the right lyricism in the Andante movement and closed with a perfect bravura splash. Hearty applause elicited an encore, and both sister and brother returned to the stage to do it, with no announcement of what it would be. As many may have recognized, it was the famous Csárdás by Vittorio Monti. The sibling duo seemed to have lots of fun with it. One hopes that they will return together, though perhaps with some reimagining. For one thing, this listener kept thinking that Weill Hall (at Carnegie also) would have been a smarter choice as a venue, not only for its size but also for its acoustics, better suited to some of the earlier repertoire. In any case, they should look forward to much music ahead!

Joel Raney, composer/conductor

Joseph M. Martin, composer/conductor

Jane Holstein, piano; David Angerman, piano

David John Hailey, Sue Martin, Sarah Whittemore, Scot Cameron, vocal soloists

Distinguished Concerts Orchestra

Distinguished Concerts Singers International

Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall., New York, NY

December 2, 2024

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) wrapped up their holiday concert series with a concert entitled A Winter’s Life, featuring the music of Joel Raney and Joseph M. Martin. Excitement was in the air as singers from Florida, Texas, Virginia, Ohio, Alabama, Illinois, Arizona, New York, South Carolina, Kentucky, California, Massachusetts, Mississippi, Tennessee, Indiana, Canada, and individual singers from around the globe took to the stage to remind all present of the real meaning of the season (and no, it is not Black Friday or Cyber Monday).

Joel Raney took the podium to conduct the Carnegie Hall premiere of Have You Heard?, a thirty-five minute, eight-movement piece that was the sole collection on the first half. This was Mr. Raney’s first DCINY appearance as a conductor. As Mr. Raney wrote in his program notes, Have You Heard? uses Celtic musical influences and weaves those sounds into “traditional” Christmas music, sort of “Bethlehem by way of Belfast.” I must admit I was initially skeptical of this concept, thinking it would be gimmicky at best. How wrong I was! It was done with great skill, and hearing Irish and Welsh folk melodies (e.g., Bunessan and Hyfrydol) as settings for the lyrics from more well-known songs was captivating. The melodies breathed fresh life into these lyrics.

To be sure, not all of Mr. Raney’s offerings this evening were re-inventions and reharmonizations, as there were plenty of the classics “left intact.” This listener’s favorite movements were the jaunty Come Messiah, Come Emmauel, with its exciting accelerando, the “re-mixed” O Little Town of Bethlehem as an ethereal evensong, and the “Irished-up” Come and Adore Him. Vocal soloist David John Hailey’s strong voice filled the hall with O Holy Night. A jubilant Wexford Carol ended the work in style, with Mr. Raney receiving a richly deserved ovation. Praise is also due to the large chorus for their excellent preparation and performance, and the ever-reliable Distinguished Concerts Orchestra once again shone brightly.

After Intermission, Joseph M. Martin took the podium to conduct the Carnegie Hall premiere of his composition A Weary World Rejoices (orchestrated by Ed Hogan). Mr. Martin is a DCINY favorite – this is his 13^th appearance with DCINY. A Weary World Rejoices is a forty-minute, nine-movement work that is vintage Martin, brimming with excitement and energy. Mr. Martin radiates pure joy on the podium, which is reflected back to him by both the chorus and orchestra. I find the title to be something of a misnomer, as there was no sign of “weariness”  detected by this listener. In fact,  it was so relentlessly joyous that if it had been for any other occasion other than Christmas I would have despaired for some tension. Even as it was, I was hoping for some more differentiation of mood, but Mr. Martin poured his considerable talents for vibrant musical celebration into this work. Favorite movements were Redeem, Restore, Renew, with vocal soloists Sarah Whittemore and Scot Cameron weaving magic with their pristine voices, the uplifting Arise! Rejoice!, and Beautiful Star, with the angelic voice of Sue Martin soaring into the heavens. Let’s also remember the chorus, whose mammoth numbers could have filled a stadium with the sounds of unabashed joy. After the final movement, Cantique de Noël (O Holy Night), the audience gave Mr. Martin and the assembled forces a loud and extended standing ovation. Happy Holidays and congratulations to all.

Jonathan Griffith, DCINY Artistic Director and Principal Conductor 

Penelope Shumate, Soprano; Holly Sorensen, Mezzo-Soprano;

Chad Kranak, Tenor; Christopher Job, Bass-Baritone;

Violetta Zabbi, Portative organ;

Distinguished Concerts Singers International;

Distinguished Concerts Orchestra;

Isaac Stern Auditorium/Perelman Stage, Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

December 1, 2024

Hearing Handel’s Messiah performed well has long been among the most life-affirming experiences in classical music. It has consistently drawn crowds far exceeding the noteworthy 700 who attended its premiere in Dublin in 1742, and since at least 2011, Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) has given it some of New York’s most outstanding performances. This past Sunday’s performance at Carnegie Hall was no exception.

First, for the uninitiated who read this review’s headline and think, “Wait – shouldn’t that read Handel’s Messiah?” – Yes. It is indeed by Handel, but since Mozart revised the orchestration in 1789, it is sometimes called Mozart’s Messiah to distinguish it from the sparer original and later more extravagant versions. As the oratorio soon after its premiere was in demand throughout Europe, various copies were circulating, both in the original English text that Charles Jennens used (from King James Bible verses) and in translations to other languages. By the time Mozart obtained a copy in 1789, in a German version by Daniel Ebeling, it was ready for a musical “update” in keeping with the changing orchestras of the day and with Mozart’s sense of balance. Pairs of flutes, clarinets, oboes, horns, and bassoons were added in a version that has since been widely embraced. Other re-orchestrations followed, including a much larger-scale one made by Eugene Goossens in the twentieth century (which DCINY played as well and recorded), but on this occasion DCINY opted for the more traditional Mozart – sung, however, in English.

This reviewer has heard (and reviewed) DCINY’s now annual Messiah at least three times, both in the Mozart version and the Goossens. Either way, it seems that DCINY has perfected its “recipe” for the piece, and, assuming they are planning to continue it through 2042 (the 300th anniversary of the piece), it may by then be called “DCINY’s Messiah.”

So, what exactly is the DCINY recipe? Well, they start with a core quartet of star singers. Four DCINY “regulars” returned as soloists, soprano Penelope Shumate,  mezzo-soprano Holly Sorenson, tenor Chad Kranak, and bass-baritone Christopher Job – exactly the same as in 2023. (Why tamper with what works?)

From the very first words of the entire oratorio, “Comfort ye my people,” sung by Mr. Kranak, we felt that comfort to which the text refers, ensured by a glorious tenor instrument that never wavered. His melismas in “Ev’ry valley shall be exalted” were as captivating as one remembered from 2023.

Bass-baritone Christopher Job delivered the recitative “Thus saith the Lord” seemingly effortlessly and with refreshingly precise diction. The lines of “But who may abide the day of his coming” extended for miles with similarly seamless ease. His other contributions were excellent as well.

The ever-radiant mezzo-soprano Holly Sorensen sang her first momentous notes with “Behold, a virgin shall conceive,” and from there her voice continued to bloom. Though she was often tasked with singing in a range overlapping with the orchestra’s (including the Mozart wind additions), her voice was rarely lost in the texture, and her phrasing was artfully shaped.

Soprano Penelope Shumate, vibrant as ever, offered perfectly brilliant recitativo introductions to set up the choral “Glory to God.” She simply soared in “He shall feed his flock” as well. One couldn’t help appreciating that, with her energy following through to the last second of each phrase, not a moment or a word-ending was lost.

As for the oratorio’s strictly orchestral movements, the Sinfonia (Overture) and Pifa (Pastoral Symphony), they were as reliable as ever, with concertmaster Jorge Ávila offering exceptionally strong leadership. DCINY has a regular core orchestra with, one assumes, some additions as needed, but as we talk about formulas for success, such long-standing members are not to be underestimated.

Last of all, in the DCINY “recipe,” is the combining of choruses from all over the world to join forces. DCINY finds the perfect blend of professional, semi-professional, and amateur singers, so that, along with the skill required to navigate some demanding music, comes the energy of those who find performing at Carnegie Hall to be a thrilling adventure. The air is always alive with excitement, and this time was no exception, with the parquet and first balcony completely filled (undoubtedly partly by some friends and relatives of performers) as well-trained choruses from far and wide filed onstage to become a single mega-chorus. The participating choruses included the American International School Of Vienna High School Choir (Austria), Arts For Manitoba Indigenous Youth Choir (Canada), The Alabama Civic Chorale (AL), Baha’i Choir (IL), Chorale 77 (PA), Franklin Civic Operetta Association Festival Choir (PA), Illiana Oratorio Society (IL), Madisonville Community Chorus (KY), Mendelssohn Choir Of Connecticut (CT), Nebo Holiday Chorus & Orchestra (UT), St. Paul’s Episcopal Church Choir (NC), Trinity Episcopal Church Choir, Everett (WA), Trinity Episcopal Church Choir, and St. Mary’s City (MD) – in addition to individual singers from around the world.

From the first full choral entry of “And the Glory of the Lord,” the enormous combined choruses were in top form. It was not possible to count them, but they spilled over from the several risers spanning the wide Perelman stage and onto the orchestral area just behind the violins. This sound was possibly even better and stronger than one recalls from previous years. One of the only sketchy moments in the combined choruses arose in the “And He shall purify” movement, where the penchant in various voices to slow down (to articulate each sixteenth note) sometimes threatened the unity of the twisty imitative lines. Maestro Griffith, as ever, held the reins, leading the masses quickly and solidly onward, and the result was stirring. “For unto us a child is born” was simply, as the choral exclamations state, “Wonderful!”

It was a slight surprise that the “Hallelujah” chorus did not conclude the concert, as it would have been ending “on a high” – instead, it was followed by the “Worthy is the Lamb that was Slain” chorus and the final “Amen.” These were played commendably, but this listener would still have opted for the “Hallelujah” close. In any case, congratulations are due to all involved. DCINY’s Messiah seems to mark – along with the lighting of the Rockefeller Center tree – the official start to the New York holiday season!

Jimin Han, piano

Judy and Arthur Zankel Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

November 24, 2024

Tonight’s performance at Zankel Hall featured pianist Jimin Han in an inventive and adventurous program with modern works that are not often played. It is refreshing to see an artist with a commitment to introducing new works to audiences – it is a testament to this performer’s bravery and brilliance.

The most well-known composer on the program was Samuel Barber (1910–1981), though the works performed tonight were far from the usual selections found on recital programs. The Ballade, Op. 46, opened with a set of arresting chords that immediately drew the listener into Barber’s unique sound world. Drawing inspiration from Frédéric Chopin, a renowned composer of ballades, Barber wrote in the duple meter of 6/8, yet he infused the form with his own dramatic harmonic language. Ms. Han brought a transparent, luminous tone to the opening section, while her interpretation of the intense middle section displayed both power and command. As the A-section returned, she evoked a haunting sense of the drama that had just unfolded.

The Nocturne, Op. 33, is another rarely performed work, again belonging to a genre strongly associated with Chopin, but here dedicated to John Field, who is credited to be originator of the form. While its thematic content employs twelve-tone techniques, the piece is crafted in a way that maintains a sense of a tonal center. Ms. Han’s performance displayed great sensitivity, though it could have benefitted from a more singing tone. A more successful interpretation might have embraced the interplay between the work’s angular, expressive melodies and its harmonically grounded, traditional elements, fully exploiting its unique character. This nocturne develops and uncovers more and more drama which was handled technically well, but left the listener wanting for a grander climax, especially in the intricate and beautifully dissonant cadenza. The ending could have had more of a sense of gravity.

Next on the program was a piece by Aaron Jay Kernis (b. 1960), LullabyfromBefore Sleep and Dreams. This piece had a hypnotic opening which Ms. Han played in a captivating manner. Her keen sense of pulse captured the lullaby’s gentle rocking motion, while the surrounding material seemed to float effortlessly. She navigated the larger, more romantic outbursts with expertise, skillfully exploiting the piece’s coloristic use of registers. This alluring work provided a beautiful and seamless transition from the more serious tone of the Barber pieces.

Another new work for this reviewer was one by Paul Schoenfield (1947-2024), Selections fromPeccadilloes. These three movements were interesting as they all referenced Baroque dances and older forms, but seen through a modern lens. The first movement, Allemande, was particularly striking, with its harmonic intricacies brought to life with great clarity by Ms. Han. While the piece began with rhythmic and textural nods to the traditional Baroque dance, it soon evolved into something more intimate and contemporary, blending old and new in a compelling way. The next movement, Fughetto, was the highlight of the three. This energetic fugue was expertly handled, and all the surprising syncopated and jazzy rhythms were delineated beautifully – what a wild ride for the performer and the listener! The last movement, Waltz, began with a mystical opening. Ms. Han was able to successfully guide the listening through the intricacies of the sophisticated harmonies and still communicate the essence of the dance. The end was supple and performed with great care – a satisfying conclusion to the first half of the recital.

The second half of the program had works by three Korean composers. It is an important endeavor to highlight composers from parts of the world that are typically underrepresented on recital programs. It was exciting to see unfamiliar names on the program, and I commend Ms. Han for her dedication to performing not only works by composers from her own cultural heritage but also pieces by living composers who are actively writing new music.

The first work, The Wave, was by Bumki Kim (b. 1974). This programmatic piece depicts the waves on the Southern Coast of Korea, a storm, and the calming of that storm by the sunrise breaking. This is achieved by a lulling and continuous patterns that eventually explode into a giant climax. The composer exploits the instrument through its extreme range and dynamics. Some of the louder sections felt a bit forced by Ms. Han as they could have been played grander and with more resonance. However, it was still a successful performance, and she had good control over the arc of the work.

The Little Blue Bird Dance Suite by Korean composer Heejung Park (b. 1978), another programmatic work, uses the bluebird symbolically. The piece depicts the story of a little bluebird being pursued by hunter unknowingly. The innocent opening is followed by an ominous scene where the “bluebird [is] left behind be its mother in a dark forest at dawn.” The drama of the work unfolds organically and naturally – and Ms. Han carries the audience through to the different sections seamlessly and with great poise. It was wonderful to see the composer present and acknowledged at the conclusion of the work.

The centerpiece of the program, in this reviewer’s opinion, was the next work: the Complete Piano Etudes by Unsuk Chin (b. 1961). While these works are becoming increasingly recognized, they are still rarely programmed in recitals—perhaps due to their extreme difficulty, which are on a par with the Ligeti etudes. However, Chin’s approach is distinct, drawing inspiration from various sources rather than directly following Ligeti’s model of solving compositional problems.

The first étude, In C, uses the overtones of C to establish its harmonic foundation while incorporating elements inspired by Balinese gamelan music, reminiscent of the approach taken by early 20th-century French composers. The result is a dazzling display of color, technique, and sound that can captivate even the most skeptical audience member. Ms. Han performed this etude magnificently and played the most complex passages with ease. Etudes 2 through 4 are of a different word and certainly the one that stands out is No. 3, Scherzo. She performed this with a distinct touch and character. The figures were played in a shapely manner while still maintaining drive and a sense of the greater pulse. The famous etude No. 5, Toccata was precise, and Ms. Han followed the longer line of long tones quite well – an impressive feat! And, finally, No. 6, Grains, felt like a kaleidoscope of sounds. Ms. Han certainly knows her way around these works!

At first, the programming of the recital seemed somewhat mellow, with the pieces in the first half conveying a similar tone. However, upon further reflection, it became clear that the intentional placement of the Chin études allowed for a gradual build-up, guiding the audience on a journey toward the apex of these extraordinary works. I appreciate the artist’s thoughtful programming and look forward to seeing her in another recital in the future.

Ms. Han concluded the recital after thunderous applause with an encore: Hesitation Tango from Souvenirs, by Samuel Barber – a perfect bookend to the evening.

Eric Whitacre, composer/conductor

Kelly Yu-Chien Lin, piano

Laurence Servaes, “Della;” David Castillo, “Jim”;  Sean Jean Ford. “Sheila;” April Amante, “Mrs. Sinclair”; Peter Kendall Clark. “Shopkeeper”

Distinguished Concerts Singers International; Distinguished Concerts Orchestra

Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

November 26, 2024

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) kicked off their holiday concert series on November 26, 2024, with a concert entitled “An Eric Whitacre Holiday,” featuring the world premiere of the orchestrated version of Mr. Whitacre’s short opera The Gift of the Magi. Other works by Mr. Whitacre and holiday pieces by others filled out the program. The Distinguished Concerts Singers International came from Maryland, Ohio, Wisconsin, Georgia, Nevada, Alabama, Washington, North Carolina, Michigan, Colorado, California, Canada, United Kingdom, and “individual singers from around the globe.”

Eric Whitacre is a DCINY favorite – this is his 22^nd(!) appearance with DCINY. He is a composer, educator, and musical evangelist who brings his boundless energy and matchless charisma to the stage. He tells stories that he has probably told hundreds of times (and I have heard the “Kung Fu Panda” story at least six times) as if he were telling it for the first time.

As much as the chorus benefited from Mr. Whitacre’s guidance in refining them into giving outstanding performances, it should be said that the respective directors of the individual groups deserve praise for their preparatory work which made Mr. Whitacre’s job significantly easier. This was evident from the Carol of the Bells, which opened the first half with energy and precision.

Mr. Whitacre’s Lux Aurumque, Glow, little tree, and The Seal Lullaby (see “Kung Fu Panda” story) from the first half and Goodnight Moon (which opened the second half) are all works I have written about extensively in past reviews. Interested readers can reference those past reviews if they desire detailed information about the works. Suffice it to say, they all, even after many hearings, retain their luster and appeal.

Rounding out the first half,  Kristina Arakelyan’s Ave Maris Stella had a simple charm that enchanted. Melissa Dunphy’s Halcyon Days had a sentimental quality that was touching, even though the sopranos at times seemed to struggle with some of the higher register passages. Mr. Whitacre told us in the second half that he learned Ms. Dunphy was in attendance and asked her to stand, which she did to enthusiastic applause from the audience. The traditional hymn Brightest and Best had an insistent intensity that was striking. Finally, John Williams’s Star of Bethlehem (from his score for the movie Home Alone) was an excellent end to the first half.

After intermission (and Goodnight Moon, which opened the second half) , the stage was set for the world premiere of the orchestrated version of Mr. Whitacre’s (with Evan L. Synder) The Gift of the Magi. Mr. Whitacre wrote the libretto based on the 1905 O. Henry short story of the same name. For those who may not be familiar with this classic story, it centers on a young couple, Della and Jim, struggling to make ends meet. They search for Christmas gifts for each other, and the result is that Jim parts with his valuable heirloom watch to buy Della combs, and Della sells her long hair to buy Jim a watch chain – both gifts rendered nearly useless. The end message is that selfless love is the most precious gift of all. Mr. Whitacre’s version differs from the original in a few areas: he has the year as 1938, with Della having a job in a salon (she had no job in the original), her hair is blonde in this setting (it is brown in the original), the watch chain is gold (platinum in the original), and the haggling for the sale of Della’s hair in the salon is Mr. Whitacre’s invention (in the original, Della visits the nearby shop of a wig maker, Madame Sofronie, who buys Della’s hair for $20 straight away without any further negotiation). For those not too purist about the 1905 original, these changes emerge as quite effective in propelling the opera.

The Gift of the Magi clocks in around thirty-five minutes. The addition of the orchestra adds considerable heft, accentuating the hustle and bustle of the season, and turns the salon screen into a showstopping burlesque fit for a Broadway musical. My main issue was that everything seemed so rushed, that maybe some brief interludes of instrumental music might have “smoothed” the pace. That being said, this is an adventurous work, filled with difficult passages and large leaps for the soprano (Della), biting dissonances, and at times relentless drive – this is not the Eric Whitacre of Lux Aurumque! It is a work that could (and should) find its place in the holiday canon, assuming that one can find performers of exceptional ability to meet the challenges.

The entire cast from an earlier (2022) performance returned tonight. Peter Kendall Clark had the right amount of obsequiousness as the Shopkeeper trying to sell Della a watch chain. April Amante captured the snobbish attitude of the haughty Mrs. Sinclair, and Sara Jean Ford nearly brought the house down as the jaded Sheila. David Castillo as Jim projected his struggles and his devotion to Della with polished tones. Without wishing to take anything away from these fine artists, it was Laurence Servaes as Della who was the star of the evening – and to be sure, a lot of that is built into both the story and the challenging part Mr. Whitacre wrote for the role of Della! Whether it was tossing off wide leaps with ease, soaring into the stratosphere without any loss of vocal quality, or just projecting the almost ingénue quality of Della, Ms. Servaes was truly outstanding. Finally, the mighty chorus served well in the role of narrator.

The large audience gave all a loud ovation, with the loudest cheers for Ms. Servaes. DCINY continues the holiday series on December 1^st with Handel’s Messiah, in Mozart’s version.

Gregorio Benítez, pianist

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

November 22, 2024

Spanish-born pianist Gregorio Benítez gave what one could only call a miraculous recital this week, turning Weill Hall at Carnegie into a virtual aviary with seven selections from Olivier Messiaen’s Catalogue d’Oiseaux (Catalogue of Birds). Mr. Benítez (completely unknown to this reviewer until now) came to New York as part of a world tour dedicated to the complete solo piano works of Messiaen. Anyone who has played from this Messiaen set knows the challenges – the thorny dissonances, complex chords, techniques from total serialism, quixotic rhythms in unmetered measures, and highly precise markings (for articulations, dynamics, and pedaling) – all requiring “translation” through drama and color to an audience without the added stimulus of Messiaen’s evocative scores (interspersed with descriptions of French landscapes). To do just one or two well is admirable, but Mr. Benítez did an entire program of them – and superbly. Straining credulity, he did it as part of a world tour traversal of Messiaen’s complete piano solo works (thus adding the rest of the Oiseaux, the other great cycle, Vingt Regards sur l’Enfant-Jésus, the Préludes, the Études, and a few shorter works).

Adding to one’s amazement, it appeared that Mr. Benítez played from memory – with no book, tablet, pedal-turner, or anything else visible (unless there was some secret “smart” device in his eyeglasses, in which case this reviewer wants a pair). Lest anyone think that the usual concert mishaps would be easily disguised in Messiaen’s musical bird calls  – with sometimes two iterations, sometimes seven or twelve with tiny variations each time –  there was no “fudging” whatsoever, as your reviewer had access to a score throughout and can attest to the fact that hardly a millisecond was criticizable. The performance could have gone practically straight to release, to be added to the small list of great Messiaen cycle recordings (with those of Yvonne Loriod, Messiaen’s second wife, at the top of the list).

As many performers of pre-twentieth-century repertoire will agree, audiences are often unduly impressed with memorization feats, frequently asking questions such as, “How do you remember all those notes?” We are left wanting to assure them that we are not remembering isolated “notes” but a whole conception made of phrases, progressions, and structures – as with an actor living a role rather than logging thousands of words. That is the case with earlier or more conventional repertoire, but seldom does one see a scoreless pianist inhabiting the newer sonic worlds of this Messiaen set (1959) as Mr. Benítez did. He simply became the lark, the thrush, and the curlew – while coloring the scenery around them.

Catalogue d’Oiseaux includes thirteen pieces (spanning seven cahiers or notebooks), with each piece named after a single bird associated with a French region and each titular birdsong accompanied – or often interrupted and replaced – by songs of other birds from the same habitat. These songs alternate with music in which Messiaen intended to evoke their surroundings – the word “intended” used here only because the composer’s chromesthesia is not always transferrable to the listener. Mr. Benítez brought it about as close as one might imagine.

From the very first notes of the concert in Le Traquet Stapazin (The Western Black-eared Wheatear), Mr. Benítez exuded confidence as he led us on a tour of the sunny Côte Vermeille, dotting the soundscape with cries of silvery delicacy, insistent (and at times comical) squawks, and the occasional brusque avian scolding. Balletic pianistic gestures seemed designed not for show but to feel the character of each moment – as well as ensuring perfect timing from one scene to the next as if shifting the camera lens. Whether or not these movements were conscious, they actually enhanced the experience.

After a short pause, with no applause from the spellbound audience, came L’alouette calandrelle (The Short-toed Lark). One of the most touching of the whole set, its two opening chords recur amongst the bird calls to evoke the arid solitude of the Crau plain. In the opening chord, this reviewer had one of the few reservations of the entire evening, which was the desire for more of the B-sharp against the C-sharp, together creating the sting of loneliness and the memory of that each time it recurs. Overall, though, Mr. Benítez captured the atmosphere beautifully. The skylarks were well-served by the glassy upper register of the piano, and the sounds of quails, cicadas, and a kestrel all combined by contrast to underscore the desolation.

L’alouette lulu (The Woodlark) opened as a dreamy nocturne, its chant-like bass representing the night against the growing songs from the woodlark and nightingale. Le loriot (The Golden Oriole) closed the first half with one of the widest arrays of birdcalls and personalities (including one that was most comically noted by Messiaen as “autoritaire” or authoritarian) – all amid sunlit gardens and woods. Mr. Benítez projected it all vividly, from the moody opening through the long stretches of tangled cacophony, with drama and dazzling fingerwork. Memorable moments included the grive musicienne (song thrush) in what emerged as a moment of avian jazz. Striking also was the matter-of-factness of some of the bird calls, unromanticized. As Messiaen wrote, “My music is not ‘nice;’ it is certain.” These are not the birds of Keats and Shelley – or even of Henselt or Ravel – but creatures possessing a wild and limitless range of colors and energies.

One sometimes feels about this set that Messiaen’s poetic descriptions preceding each score ought to be included in the program, as they fill in blanks about the landscapes and birds where the gap from even a great pianist to his listener may not be bridged. It may also be relevant that Messiaen’s father was a literature professor and his mother the poet Cecile Sauvage, so it was natural to verbalize images that might be hard to transmit through music alone (as, for example, the oriole’s call, which for him was “like the laughter of a foreign prince” evoking “Africa and Asia or some unknown planet, full of light and rainbows and smiles of Leonardo De Vinci”).

The second half of the program was devoted to three Oiseaux, from Le merle de roche (the Rock Thrush), proceeding to Le courlis cendré  (The Curlew), and Le traquet rieur (The Black Wheatear). More of the magic described in the first half was found here, though with more foreboding spirit and some increasingly big sounds as demanded by the composer (at times verging on excessive harshness for this listener who had to cover her ears). A high point was Le courlis cendré – a tour de force in this pianist’s hands.

In summary, whether or not one embraces the piano music of Messiaen, Gregorio Benítez offers perhaps the best chance today to hear his piano music live, at least based on this hearing of seven of the Oiseaux. This listener went from the usual yawn upon reading the glowing words in the pianist’s biography before the concert (“yes, critics say he is ‘hypnotic’ and ‘extraordinary’ – that’s what lots of press releases say”) to thinking such words are inadequate.

Mr. Benítez has performed in the United States, Japan, Germany, Austria, the United Kingdom, France, and Portugal. His recorded works have been featured on MDR KLASSIK, King Classic Radio, NHK, TVE, Radio Clásica, Catalunya Música, Canal Sur, and Cuatro TV. Additionally, he has performed as a soloist with orchestras such as the MDR Sinfonieorchester, the Orquesta Sinfónica de RTVE, the Joven Orquesta de la Comunidad de Madrid, the Ensemble de Música Contemporánea RCSMM, the Osaka Sinfonietta, the Modern Orchestra of Beijing, and the Columbia Contemporary Music Group. He holds a Ph.D. in Music from the Universitat Politècnica de Valencia and has been a contributor to “Melómano” magazine since 2015.

His studies have taken him to the Royal Academy of Music in London and the Hochschule für Musik und Theater in Leipzig, and his teachers have included his father, Dr. Auxiliadora Gil, Prof. Julián López Gimeno, Josep Colom, and Prof. Markus Tomas, in addition to lessons from pianists such as Alicia de Larrocha, Leon Fleisher, Emanuel Ax, Menahem Pressler, and fortepianists Robert Levin, Malcolm Bilson, and Paul Badura-Skoda.

Beyond all his credentials, Gregorio Benítez is simply an amazing artist whose Messiaen interpretations will make a mark. He deserved a much larger crowd at Weill Hall, and one wondered where were, say, all the composition students or pianists from the various New York conservatories (as this concert was the equivalent of a few dozen lessons). In any case, for those wishing to track him down, the other venues listed on this tour include Severance Hall in Cleveland, Place des Arts in Montreal, the Musikverein in Vienna, the Concertgebouw in Amsterdam, the Konzerthaus Berlin, the Mozarteum in Salzburg, the Palau de la Música in Barcelona, the Rudolfinum in Prague, the Hong Kong City Hall, and the Oriental Arts Centre in Shanghai.

Ian Hobson, piano

Tenri Cultural institute, New York, NY

November 15, 2024

Tonight’s performance was another retrospective into the complete piano works of Robert Schumann (1810-1856) by pianist Ian Hobson. This program, titled Visions of Youth, explored works that not only were composed for young pianists and students, but also reflected on childhood memories and themes.

It is rare for a recital program to feature works typically assigned to young learners, especially when performed by a pianist of Mr. Hobson’s caliber. The first half of the program, however, offered just that. Album für die Jugend, Op. 68 (Album for the Young), a staple in every piano instructor’s library, was presented in its entirety. Hearing the complete set was a different and enlightening experience, offering insights into Schumann’s thought process as he sought to encompass a wide range of fundamental piano techniques and expressive elements.

Mr. Hobson’s interpretations were thoughtful, imaginative, and sophisticated—qualities that brought a surprising depth to these simple pieces. Of particular note were No. 5, Stückchen, No. 16, Erster Verlust (First Loss), and No. 18, Schnitterliedchen (Little Reaper’s Song), which were rendered with supple lines and beautiful touches of imagination. The faster movements bristled with energy and verve: No. 2, Soldatenmarsch (Soldier’s March) was bold, and No. 12, Knecht Ruprecht (Servant Ruprecht) was suitably turbulent.

The program’s better-known pieces were a delight to hear. No. 10, Fröhlicher Landmann, von der Arbeit zurückkehrend (Merry Peasant, Returning from Work) radiated joy, and No. 14, Kleine Studie (Little Study) unfolded with ease. However, No. 8, Wilder Reiter (Wild Rider), with its galloping rhythm, was taken a bit too fast, resulting in some loss of clarity, particularly in the B section. Similarly, No. 17, Kleiner Morgenwanderer (Little Morning Wanderer) and No. 25, Nachklänge aus dem Theater (Reminiscences from the Theater) could have benefited from a warmer tone and a lighter touch.

The seldom-heard later movements were a revelation. No. 20, Ländliches Lied (Country Song) was tender, and No. 30 (untitled) revealed a more introspective and contemplative side of Schumann—one that might well have been attributed to Eusebius. These pieces encapsulate every facet of piano technique and musicality from beginner to advanced, offering a treasure trove of delights for both performers and listeners.

The second part of the concert began with Drei Clavier-Sonaten für die Jugend, Op. 118(Three Sonatas for the Young) —late works that provide a glimpse into the talent and skill of the composer’s three children, for whom these sonatas were written. While the idea of new piano sonatas for students is intriguing, these pieces require young learners of exceptional ability to navigate their challenges.

The first sonata in G major stands out as one of the more engaging works. Its short movements are captivating, and they were performed with great care. The second movement, a Theme and Variations, was particularly striking, in originality and character. The third movement, a lighthearted piece, felt more like an introduction to the lively Rondoletto that followed. A touch more rhythmic swing might have better conveyed the character of this final movement.

The second sonata, more esoteric in nature, was skillfully interpreted by Mr. Hobson. Despite the repetitive nature of the first movement, it maintained enough contrast to charm the listener. The second movement, an exercise in counterpoint, offered a technical challenge well-suited to young pianists. The serene Abendlied (Evening Song) served as the slow movement, while Kindergesellschaft (Children’s Company) captured the innocence and playfulness of childhood. An intriguing work!

The final sonata embarks on an adventurous journey in C major. The Allegro was played with a lively spirit and dynamic color shifts that highlighted harmonic changes. The second movement, reflective and meandering, was quintessentially Schumann in its introspective quality. The bold and bombastic Zigeunertanz (Romani Dance) brought energy and flair, while Traum eines Kindes (A Child’s Dream) closed the piece with imagination and nostalgia. By referencing the first movement, this finale achieved a satisfying sense of cyclicality.

Certainly, the most well-known works on tonight’s program are the Kinderszenen, Op. 15. Though inspired by childhood, these scenes are not intended as teaching pieces for children. Instead, they evoke a sense of nostalgia, capturing fleeting moments of childhood through a reflective lens.

One of my personal favorites, No. 1, Von fremden Ländern und Menschen (Of Foreign Lands and Peoples), was played with beautiful simplicity by Mr. Hobson. Among the highlights were No. 3, Hasche-Mann (Blind Man’s Buff), whose buildup to the climax was masterfully executed, and No. 4, Bittendes Kind (Pleading Child), which left the audience nearly breathless. No. 5, Glückes genug (Happy Enough) might have benefited from a more transparent interpretation, but it remained enjoyable.

At the heart of the work is, of course, the iconic No. 7, Träumerei (Dreaming), a piece with a history of being performed on its own by many world-renowned artists. However, tonight’s performance felt too grounded in the real world, lacking the fantasy and introspection that define this beloved movement. In contrast, No. 10, Fast zu Ernst (Almost Too Serious) and No. 11, Fürchtenmachen (Frightening) were especially memorable, showcasing Mr. Hobson’s sensitivity and attention to detail.

Tonight’s concert was a rare and remarkable experience, bringing together a complete performance of these cherished works. It is hard to imagine having the opportunity to hear these pieces presented collectively in a single recital again. Mr. Hobson’s dedication to Robert Schumann and his artistry made the evening truly special. The next all-Schumann concert, featuring trios, is scheduled for December 13—we eagerly await another extraordinary performance!