José Navarro-Silberstein, pianist

Merkin Hall at the Kaufmann Music Center, New York, NY

February 28, 2025

An exciting evening of piano music – largely South American – kicked off the musical weekend, as Bolivian pianist José Navarro-Silberstein gave his New York recital debut at Merkin Hall, presented by Kantuta Concerts under the auspices of the Foundation for Bolivian Artists. A program dominated by music of Argentina, Bolivia, and Brazil, via Eduardo Caba, Alberto Ginastera, Marvin Sandi, and Heitor Villa-Lobos, it also included a few selections by European composers Franz Liszt and Ferrucio Busoni. Folk influence was present in all, emerging as one aspect of what the concert’s promotional materials termed “the artistic dialogue between Latin American and European composers, exploring how they have influenced and inspired each other over time.”

More specifically, the Foundation for Bolivian Artists and Kantuta Concerts, founded and run by Bolivian compatriot Walter Aparicio (who for full disclosure also writes for New York Concert Review), has a mission to promote and expand awareness of Bolivian art and artists. From Mr. Aparicio’s spoken introduction to the concert, it was clear that Kantuta, now in its second year, is well on its way. A few audience members in the packed hall unfurled a Bolivian flag across their row to underscore just that, though the performances by Mr. Navarro-Silberstein accomplished as much through music.

The reader can find Mr. Navarro-Silberstein’s biography at his website (José Navarro-Silberstein), but to summarize, in addition to garnering some impressive prizes, his performances have taken him to Germany, the UK, France, Spain, Austria, Italy, Belgium, the Netherlands, Switzerland, Slovenia, Croatia, Georgia, Lithuania, Chile and Bolivia. As a soloist, he has performed with the Jena Philharmonic Orchestra, Norddeutsche Philharmonie Rostock, Georgian Philharmonic Orchestra, La Paz Symphony Orchestra, Orquesta de Jóvenes Musicos Bolivianos, and Orquesta Sinfónica Juvenil de Santa Cruz de la Sierra. His debut CD “Vibrant Rhythms” recently released by GENUIN Classics and containing some of the same repertoire he performed at Merkin, has already received international acclaim.

After nearly two decades of writing music reviews (among other musical pursuits), it was a treat for this reviewer to attend a concert that included the work of several completely unfamiliar composers – in this case, the two Bolivian composers, Eduardo Caba (1890-1953) and Marvin Sandi (1938-68); for that awakening in itself, Kantuta is to be congratulated. The opening Caba pieces were beguiling in Mr. Navarro-Silberstein’s sensitive reading. We heard Nos. 1, 4, and 9 from the set entitled Aires Indios (de Bolivia) from 1937. No 1 was a gentle melodic piece, rather reminiscent of some of Grieg’s lyrical miniatures (or even MacDowell’s) in innocence and directness – though of course no country or composer has a lock on pastoral beauty. The second piece reflected more characteristically Latin rhythms, and the final selection brought to mind Ravel’s fountains and fourths. It seems plausible that Caba (who had studied in Europe with Turina – who had studied in Paris) may have absorbed some second-hand influence there. Anyway, it was fascinating to hear, and Mr. Navarro-Silberstein played all three persuasively.

To skip ahead to the other Bolivian composer, Marvin Sandi, we heard Ritmos Panteísticos, Op. 1a (1957) in the first half and In Memoriam (Homenaje a Caba), Op. 1b (1958) to open the second half. Both works of this short-lived composer were composed around age nineteen. In Ritmos Panteísticos, the opening movement “…de la roca” found the pianist enjoying the clashing sonorities that brought to mind Ginastera (as in the Danza del gaucho matrero). The second and third movements, “…de la luz” and “…de la luna,” conveyed the spaciousness one associates with the Andean landscape of the composer’s homeland – with still more tonal exploration,  and the final motoric “…del sexo” closed the set with insistent rhythmic drive projected powerfully by Mr. Navarro-Silberstein. The meditative In Memoriam (Homenaje a Caba) after intermission opened rather severely, with dramatic left hand octaves, but it melted into such soulful lyricism that one could only feel even sadder that the composer did not have many more years of creativity.

More familiar South American fare included  Suite de Danzas Criollas, Op. 15 (1957), by Ginastera and Ciclo Brasileiro, W. 374 (1936-1937), by Villa-Lobos. Mr. Navarro maximized the tenderness in the opening Adagietto of the Danzas Criollas and took us on a wild ride through the rugged turf of the Allegro rustico. He entranced us with the 11/8 meter in the third movement – and made further magic of the fourth, with its play of major and minor seconds that had one thinking of Bartók. He unleashed superhuman energy in the Scherzando – with the coda drawing cheers from the audience. The Villa-Lobos Ciclo that closed the program was similarly brimming with life. Highlights were the dreamily melodic Plantio do caboclo, the famously brilliant Festa no sertão, and the fiery Dança do Índio branco. Together they were an impassioned triumph.

Much of the South American music had a listener wondering whether the pianist would be equally at home in Liszt and Busoni, and the answer emerged as a “yes.” Though (at the risk of having to dodge tomatoes) this listener has never been a fan of the Busoni Indian Diary as more than a curiosity, with its mercurial shifts of eclectic material seeming rather alien to the folk motifs it is based on, but it was still fascinating to hear live – and not a common occurrence, so worth the inclusion (especially given the theme of transcontinental “dialogue” used to promote the program).

As for the Liszt Rhapsody No. 9, Mr. Navarro-Silberstein showed that no pyrotechnics are beyond his grasp – from coruscating runs to blazing octaves. In terms of style, it does seem that he may have missed the opportunity, in the moderato a capriccio, to establish a tempo that was slow and elastic enough to free up the whimsical right-hand elaborations without violating or straitjacketing the left hand, but such preferences always increase with familiarity (and this listener finds it hard to “unhear” a favorite rendition by Cziffra). In any case, Mr. Navarro-Silberstein can be extremely proud of what was an amazing feat – especially on a program that was already so demanding.

One suggestion for the next concert would be the inclusion of program notes, since, especially with a few lesser-known composers slated and the presenter’s mission of increasing awareness of Bolivian music, it would have been educational for the audience. Then again, it is possible that some inserted notes existed, but went missing in the folding, as there was spoken reference from the stage to some other information that was also not found.

Mr. Navarro-Silberstein rewarded a hearty standing ovation with two lovely encores, the first, a Bolivian folk song, and the second, Mihaud’s Corocovado from Saudades Do Brasil. It was a highly auspicious debut for an outstanding pianist who will be well worth following.

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

Carpe Diem String Quartet
Sam Weiser, Violin; Marisa Ishikawa, Violin

Korine Fujiwara, Viola; Ariana Nelson, Cello

Weill Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

February 27, 2025

The aptly named Carpe Diem String Quartet took the stage of Weill Hall at Carnegie this week to greet their excited audience, and they exuded just the kind of immediacy and energy that will draw new audiences to classical music – particularly to “new” music. Their program, all music of the 20th and 21st centuries, including a New York premiere and two world premieres, was brilliantly curated, but more importantly their playing itself communicated worlds of emotion – with a healthy measure of pure fun. They already have ardent followers and 20-year performing history (though interrupted by Covid and other events), plus a commissioning project honoring their 15th year in 2020 (called “15 for 15”); still, however,  they represent a “discovery” for this listener. It is a thrill to share that discovery, because anyone thinking of hearing or hiring them is destined to be grateful. You’re welcome.

To avoid rehashing lengthy biographies, our readers can visit their website (Carpe Diem String Quartet), but suffice it to say that all members of the quartet – violinists Sam Weiser and Marisa Ishikawa, violist Korine Fujiwara, and cellist Ariana Nelson – have fine credentials individually; what makes the group so special is their connectedness and shared musical passion. The title for their recital – “Interconnected” – was more than just a convenient catchall, but rather a message one could feel through all the music they played by composers Lomax, Kaminsky, Fujiwara, Satoh, and finally Prokofiev.

The charismatic Dr. Mark Lomax II, composer of the opening work Ubuntu (2023), was the first to come onstage, to introduce both the concert and his own piece in what was its New York premiere. He explained that, in the languages of Zulu/Xhosa, the “Ubuntu” philosophy is, “I am because you are, and because you are, I am.” He spoke about the need for humanity to connect, and the music itself supported his words with seemingly disjunct, but infectiously energetic, rhythmic motives all interacting to find one another, eventually uniting as the quartet played in harmony and unison (with a nice final touch of F major, like the Prokofiev, which would close the program). It was a sensational start to the program.

Laura Kaminsky, especially renowned for her groundbreaking work in opera, came onstage next to introduce the world premiere of her string quartet, Vanishing Point, commissioned by the Carpe Diem String Quartet. Dedicated to the memory of Chas Wetherbee, first violinist of the Carpe Diem Quartet until he passed away in 2023, it centers on the feelings in the aftermath of loss –  as the composer’s notes describe, “swirling emotions of loss, persistence, and hope.” As much as one expected that Ms. Kaminsky’s gift for the vocal and dramatic would shine through in her instrumental writing (and it did), nothing prepared one for the emotional impact of this quartet. Part of it was the dramatic structure. As she writes, “The piece begins with an extended trio, minus the first violin, with the strings starting from nothing and increasing in intensity, until, finally, they ‘find’ and ‘invite’ the first violin to join them, a quartet at last.” That sheer absence of the first violin was enough to crack one’s heart in two, but the plaintive solo cello followed by soulful viola utterances in the first minutes finished the job. One almost couldn’t recover to fully experience the “swirling emotions” that followed, but the fade to the end was perfect as a “vanishing point.” A well-deserved ovation elicited a bow from  Ms. Kaminsky and the quartet.

The final work before intermission, the world premiere of Korine Fujiwara’s Mosey could not have been better placed to bring everyone back to smiling. Inspired by the scenes at an airport of people moving in all sorts of individual worlds – with the two very different definitions of the “mosey” pace in play – violist Fujiwara wrote it for her own quartet colleagues, as a sort of musical metaphor for traveling through life. Full of humor (as she is in her comments and program notes), it lives in a language of folksy charm combined with a frenetic edge (bluegrass fiddling meets hints of Raymond Scott’s Powerhouse). All the performers ramped up the energy, complete with dizzy slides and percussion on the body of the cello, and the cumulative effect was dazzling. This is one of those pieces that all quartets will want to play – in the same way that Jessie Montgomery’s Strum has taken hold. Once again now, to any quartet players reading this: you’re welcome.

After intermission we heard Toward the Night, by Somei Satoh (b. 1947), known widely for his works using Japanese instruments and electronic music. First violinist Sam Weiser introduced it and spoke of it expressing the Buddhist idea of samsara or transmigration towards the next life. To quote the notes (which seemed to be by the composer, although it wasn’t clear), “after millions of years, the existence of mankind is beginning to sink into the deep dusk.” The music, accordingly, shifts glacially from each gentle dissonance to the next – at times conveying human pathos, at times an atmosphere vaguely ominous, and overall a sense of vast space. The quartet played it with meditative feeling – something that could not have been easy, given what Mr. Weiser had just prior to it remarked about the evening. He had said, “They say that a quartet is like a marriage between four people, and with the number of family and friends here tonight, many meeting for the first time, this really feels like our wedding.” It was a testament to this quartet’s powerful focus and emotional projection that the audience remained in what seemed a hypnotized state for the entire Satoh work.

As Mr. Weiser had also noted, much to the audience’s amusement, the Prokofiev is “not like that at all.” Indeed, Prokofiev’s String Quartet No. 2, Op. 92 (1941). is brimming with energy, and its Kabardinian folk themes and robust rhythms brought us back to the world of purposeful action, within more typically classical form and phrase structure. The quartet lit into it with gusto, and it was good to see that there was none of the myopic obsession with “purity” of tone that can plague string players at the expense of the right rustic feeling. The players at times lit into the piece with the delicacy of shovels and spades – and it was a joy. The audience was rapt throughout and burst into a standing ovation for the performers, joined by those composers present.

As many may know, reviewers are often the first to bolt for the door at a concert’s finish, but your reviewer was actually sad to see this one end – despite its ample length. It was so heartening to hear performers who are not merely “well-trained” but whose mission is to communicate. They created magic to inspire their listeners, and if they keep that up, they will be a much-needed gift to the music world.

I suggest that our readers, whether fellow quartets, music lovers, or presenters, grab any chance you can get to go hear them. And for the third time, you’re welcome.

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

Alexander Scriabin: The Complete Piano Sonatas

Yunjie Chen, piano

Accentus Music CD ACC306391 (2 CD set)

In the pantheon of solo piano compositions that tax a performer’s technical and musical capabilities to the outer limits, the ten Scriabin piano sonatas, written from 1892 to 1913, rank high. Though none is longer than 20 minutes (and most far shorter), they are black holes of condensed emotional expression that exploit every register, figurational possibility, rhythmic combination, and tonal resource of the piano keyboard with a feverish intensity unique to this singular composer. They gradually evolve from multi-movement late Romantic works in sonata form with key signatures, to one-movement, intense, trance-like excursions without key signatures that morph instantaneously from ineffable pianissimo puffs of smoke to ecstatic bursts of joy or madness, with the notes chromatically spelled in a chaotic, non-functional-harmony manner. Musicologist Richard Taruskin dubbed Scriabin’s compositional style “maximalist.”

Of the great pianists of the last century, Vladimir Horowitz, Sviatoslav Richter, and Vladimir Sofronitsky (Scriabin’s son-in-law), all Russians, were especially identified with Scriabin’s music, largely because each had a wild, wayward side to their musical personalities that matched the sensibility of the composer, a man obsessed with theosophy, synesthesia, mysticism, and other other-worldly notions. Effective performances of Scriabin must bring alive this exorcismic, phantasmal side of his music while contending with the extraordinarily dense, complex textures. Usually only a single sonata is programmed on a piano recital, though several artists have recorded the whole cycle. I well remember seeing Vladimir Ashkenazy’s April 1982 Carnegie Hall recital where he led off with a tenebrous performance of Sonata No. 6 and a few short pieces from Scriabin’s middle period, followed by Gaspard de la Nuit and Pictures at an Exhibition–a marathon all without missing a note.

But the Chinese pianist Yunjie Chen may be the first pianist both to record the whole Scriabin sonata cycle and to perform all ten sonatas in a single recital, in 2015 in Beijing, an unimaginable tour de force of mental and physical stamina. (The young Canadian pianist Jaeden Izik-Dzurko duplicated the live feat in 2022.) If that doesn’t impress you, consider that Yunjie Chen has also performed the complete Liszt Transcendental Etudes both live in a single recital and on recordings. Mr. Chen, born 1980, trained at the Shanghai Conservatory and completed degrees in the United States at Juilliard, Manhattan School of Music, and the Cleveland Institute of Music. He has widely concertized across the world and is currently on the faculty of the Central Conservatory in Beijing.

Throughout these recordings (Accentus Music: Scriabin Piano Sonatas- Yunjie Chen), Yunjie Chen shows himself to be a pianist of formidable technique, a sensitive musician, and a master of pianissimo shading. He always does an excellent job of outlining melodies that Scriabin characteristically puts in the middle of the texture while the hands are surfeited with activity above and below. That he has given a lot of thought and study to Scriabin’s idiom is clearly apparent from the very first sonata, performed with lots of rubato, dynamic nuance, and occasional luftpauses at unexpected moments. I marveled at the exquisitely pedaled veiled, muted tone he gave to the Quasi Niente pppp bars at the very end of the fourth movement of Sonata No. 1. In Sonata No. 2, perhaps the most Chopinesque of the ten, Mr. Chen’s fingers deftly flit through the quasi-aqueous figuration and filigree.

The four-movement Sonata No. 3 may be the easiest and most conventionally lyrical-romantic of the sonatas, but it is still passionately, darkly Scriabin. Pianists have wildly differed on the interpretation and pace of the Allegretto second movement, though the score is metronomically marked eighth note equals 160 in 4/8 meter. In his famous 1960s studio recording, Glenn Gould plays the opening of this movement secco, marking the rhythm almost as in a march as he hums along audibly. Ashkenazy puts the pedal down. Mr. Chen not only pedals the opening but impulsively lurches past the metronome marking, almost collapsing the beats into each other and making a blur of the notes–an interpretive mistake to my ears. In the very last bars of the fourth movement, where the score has two large grand pauses clearly marked to divide the antepenultimate and penultimate phrases, Mr. Chen holds the pedal down right through the pauses, effectively eliminating their dramatic musical punctuation.

The transitional sonatas are Nos. 4 and 5, where Scriabin starts enriching the chromaticism of his harmony almost enigmatically, with short, gasping gnomic phrases floating around like musical amoebas that lead nowhere. In the 4^th he starts dividing the keyboard into registers, separate planes of color and texture on three staves. In the 5^th and later sonatas, he writes in one continuous movement and starts to use unusually specific expressive indications, at first in Italian, then in French (sample from the 9^th : avec une douceur de plus en plus caressante et empoissoneé).

Chen’s performance of the 5^th is one of his most successful, though he tends to favor inserting tiny pauses between slow and fast bars where most other pianists would ride through them observing the prevailing beats, as Richter does, which heightens the excitement by not breaking the line. The last page of the 5^th sonata is very difficult to bring off musically because it seems as if the composer is running out of harmonic steam and the piece just stops rather than ends. Audiences often don’t recognize the ending and wait to clap. I’ll never forget Horowitz’s stage-smart performance of this ending at his November 1974 recital at the Metropolitan Opera House: he physically turned his whole body to face the audience as he played the final figuration at the top of the keyboard, provoking an instant deafening roar of cheers.

Starting with Sonatas Nos. 6 and 7, there are no key signatures. As the Sonatas become more esoteric in their harmonic language, Mr. Chen, though capturing the mood admirably, tends to underplay some notes in the apparent belief that suggestion is more idiomatic than clear articulation. Indeed the Sixth is arguably the creepiest of the sonatas, but I couldn’t hear some of the important ornamentation in the score. The recurrent ornamental grace note quadruplet pattern in bars 44, 63, etc. I couldn’t hear at all. It should be clearly articulated. The so-called “White Mass” Sonata No. 7 is possibly the most technically difficult of the sonatas to play, with the scoring sometimes on four staves, and its famous bar 331: five five-note chords stacked vertically on a single arpeggiated quarter note rolled upward. While Mr. Chen does a masterful job of delicate subito dynamic contrasts, he sometimes doesn’t make the runs or ornamentation speak.

The more recessive, intimate Sonatas Nos. 8 and 10 seem best suited to Mr. Chen’s personality and style and he plays them beautifully. In Sonata No. 9 some of the written pitches didn’t sound, particularly in the precipitous piú vivo section at bars 205-208, an awkward, notorious stumbling block for even the best pianists.

His choice to emphasize suggestion of the tones by caressing the keys rather than actually with distinct articulation sometimes works and sometimes doesn’t. There were many instances in different sonatas where I just couldn’t hear notes clearly delineated, or sometimes hear them at all. Overall, Mr. Chen plays the bass line too sotto voce in all the sonatas, causing an important part of the Scriabin gestalt– not to mention the piano’s frequency spectrum– to lose some presence and definition. Not every fine performance of Scriabin has to have clangorous Horowitzian sforzando bass chords, but the authority of bass resonance has to sound boldly in idiomatic Scriabin, and is needed to balance the sound texture with the high treble filigree. Like many pianists in Scriabin, Mr. Chen sometimes overuses the pedal and forfeits the expressive effect of subito secco.

Perhaps Mr. Chen doesn’t have that demonic over-the-top quality that a few rare pianists bring to this music. Yet to be sure he does successfully summon up and sustain a suitably mystagogic Scriabinesque sound world. This collection is a highly listenable and rewarding release, provided the listener is given the caveat that a surfeit of Scriabin may throw your emotional dials temporarily out of whack!

by Mark N. Grant  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

New York City Opera Orchestra

Constantine Orbelian, conductor

Kristina Reiko Cooper, cello

Elizaveta Ulakhovich, soprano

Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

February 24,2025

“A celebration of survival and perseverance told through the universal language of music” was the advertised theme of a concert given by the New York City Opera Orchestra on Monday evening at Carnegie Hall, featuring music by Mieczysław Weinberg, Erich Wolfgang Korngold, and Gennady Rovner. Exactly how this theme may have applied to the evening was not immediately apparent; it is doubtful that it was the music selected (unless one decides to consider the plots of the films for which some of the works were composed). Was it for the lives of the composers? Korngold did flee Austria before the Anschluss, and Weinberg was harassed by the Soviets (he was arrested in February 1953 in the “Doctors’ Plot,” Stalin’s last purge before his death). Maybe it was about New York City Opera itself, which has had its struggles for the last decade but soldiers onward.

Conductor Constantine Orbelian took the stage to open the first half with Weinberg’s Suite from The Last Inch, as arranged by Sergey Kornienko. The Last Inch was a 1959 Soviet adventure/drama film, one of many films for which Weinberg composed music. This arrangement is a five-minute “survey” of the larger score. Full of color, rhythmic vitality, and memorable melodies, it was a dynamic opener played with gusto.

Cellist Kristina Reiko Cooper took the stage as the soloist in the next two works, Weinberg’s Fantasy for Cello and Orchestra, Op. 52, and Korngold’s Cello Concerto in C major, Op.37.

The Fantasy is essentially a concerto played as a single movement. It has a somber opening of uneasy stillness, before a dance-like motif raises the energy to build to a cello cadenza before returning to the opening mood and eventually fading away. Ms. Cooper’s tone was lush and singing, and she reveled in the happy dance section with a playful approach. There were some brief moments when intonation was imprecise, but Ms. Cooper more than demonstrated her excellent technique along with her artistry throughout.

Originally composed for the 1946 Bette Davis/Claude Rains/Paul Henreid film Deception, Korngold’s Cello Concerto is a single-movement work of approximately thirteen minutes. (Interesting factoid: Korngold conceived this work to be played by Gregor Piatigorsky, but the film studio refused to pay Piatigorsky’s $100,000 fee. Eleanor Aller, mother of conductor Leonard Slatkin, performed it instead.)

There is a lot of action packed into the thirteen minutes, from the lush romantic sweeps of which Korngold was an undisputed master, to some hair-raising virtuosity that would challenge any cellist. Ms. Cooper was a dynamo, moving from the lyric to the demonic with a practiced assurance. One could easily sense her complete immersion in both her part and that of the orchestra, and it was an outstanding performance. The orchestra was charged by her energy, leading at times to an excessive exuberance which threatened to overwhelm Ms. Cooper in a wall of sound, but she always managed to shine through.

The second half was the United States premiere of Metamorphosis by Gennady Rovner. His program bio states that writing music is a “favorite hobby.” His program biography suggests that his main claim to fame is having worked with someone who has worked with a prominent artist (e.g. Paul McCartney, Andrea Bocelli ). These are not the most compelling credentials, and I am at a loss to figure out how this work was programmed – it was not remotely close to being up the standard of the works on the first half.

Metamorphosis is nine short works, of which two include a part for (wordless) soprano. There were no indications or titles attached to any of the nine, but it was clear that the effect was something between film music vignettes and New Age musings. There was nothing particularly original or notable – it was as if AI had been fed instructions for the music (a climax here, some saxophone and accordion here, as if we were in a Parisian café, etc.).

To the credit of the orchestra, they played with the same high level of commitment as they did for the Weinberg and Korngold works. Special mention to concertmaster Laura Frautschi for her gorgeous playing of the solo in the first section. Elizaveta Ulakhovich also made the most of limited opportunity to demonstrate her lovely voice.

It would have been better if the order of the halves had been reversed – the brilliant ending of the Korngold would have been a proper conclusion, rather than the abrupt stop of the Rovner. One hopes that New York City Opera will regain their footing. I wish them all the best.

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

Stanley L. Roberts, conductor Mercer University Singers

Amy Schwartz Moretti, director, Robert McDuffie Center for Strings

Paul Watkins, guest conductor, Robert McDuffie Center for Strings

Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

February 17, 2025

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presented a Presidents’ Day concert titled Sunrise Mass (also the title of an Ola Gjeilo work that was part of the second half) with the Mercer University Singers and Robert McDuffie Center for Strings as the featured ensembles. The program also included the world premiere of From the Frontier – Three American Foks Tunes, as arranged by Mack Wilberg, Béla Bartók’s Divertimento for Strings, Sz. 113, and eight choral works. Mercer University is located in Macon, Georgia, and their many fans and supporters turned out in force. They were one of the more enthusiastic audiences that I have seen in some time, which no doubt lent wings to these talented musicians.

After a greeting from university president William Underwood, Stanley L. Roberts,  the conductor of the Mercer University Singers, took the podium to open the evening. They offered eight selections, of which I will mention some highlights. Two works were flipped in order from the printed program, and there was no announcement to advise the audience of this, which might have caused some confusion for the listener.

Opening with what one might call “cathedral music,” James McMillan’s O Radiant Dawn and Monteverdi’s Cantate Domino, the Mercer singers immediately established their credentials. The ensemble was excellent, without one voice range dominating the others, intonation and crisp diction were all there, and the masterly direction of Mr. Roberts brought all these qualities to the forefront. This was followed by five poignant pieces, of which the luminosity of Hans Bridger Heruth’s Joy (text by Sara Teasdale) and the “looking forward to the next world” of Shawn Kircher’s Sweet Rivers (text by John Adam Granade, adapted by the composer) were notable.

This leads to my one quibble. Many of these selections were so stylistically similar that one might have been excused for wanting a little more variety. To be sure, these works were brilliantly performed, almost as a showcase of this ensemble’s prowess of extracting every last drop of beauty and emotion. Many an ensemble would love to have this “issue.” When they let loose, as they did in the final selection, Craig Courtney’s  Let There Be Light, the effect was electrifying. The jazzy harmonies, the bending tones, and the rhythmic energy brought the audience to their feet in a standing ovation. It was far and away this listener’s favorite of their selections.

After intermission and a stage reset, the Robert McDuffie Center for Strings took the stage. Founded by the noted violinist Robert McDuffie, this program is a special institute within Mercer University’s School of Music. Tonight, some distinguished alumni joined the current members, including the current director Amy Schwartz Moretti, David Kim, concertmaster of the Philadelphia Orchestra, and Mr. McDuffie himself amongst others. Guest Conductor Paul Watkins spoke at length, sharing some memories and his delight at working with these young musicians, before launching into Béla Bartók’s Divertimento for Strings. Composed in 1939 on a commission from Paul Sacher, conductor of the Basel Chamber Orchestra, it is one of Bartok’s most loved and accessible works. Much has been written about this work, so I will leave the arcane musical analysis to the theoreticians. Let’s just imagine Bartók took a time machine to the 18^th century but brought his own “modern” harmonies, Hungarian folk tunes, and metric complexity with him, and joined the past and the present to great effect.  

The opening Allegro non troppo was taut and assured, the dance-like motifs sprinkled about with panache. The second movement Molto adagio was desolate and eerie, with cries of terror punctuating the uneasiness of the ever-building tension. The finale Allegro Assai was a return to the happy mood, with mercurial “bounce” adding  energetic joy. This was a superb performance that any ensemble would have been proud of, and Mr. Watkins deserves kudos for his leadership. The enthusiasm was felt in the audience, who reacted with a standing ovation, which was well deserved.

Mr. Roberts returned to the podium as the Mercer Singers joined for the next three works. The first was Ola Gjeilo’s Sunrise Mass. As I wrote in an earlier review Mr. Gjeilo’s music is not what anyone would describe as revolutionary, as his language is tonal to the core, and there is very little overt complexity, but in this ostensibly simplistic approach he makes magic happen. Sunrise Mass is no exception – it is vintage Gjeilo in its effect.  Mr. Gjeilo gives a very heartfelt explanation of his goals in this mass – a bit too long to quote here, but I suggest the reader follow this link to learn more: Ola Gjeilo on Sunrise Mass.

The four-movement Sunrise Mass uses English titles for the individual movements, but the Latin text of the Mass: The Spheres (Kyrie), Sunrise (Gloria), The City (Credo), and Identity and the Ground (Sanctus/Agnus Dei). It is for the listener to decide the ultimate message, but I prefer the idea of a spiritual journey. It proved to be a journey well-worth taking, and the performance was breathtakingly moving in its sheer beauty. Even Mr. Roberts was moved to address the audience after a standing ovation about how wonderful this work is. I’m sure everyone was in complete agreement.

Next was the world premiere of From the Frontier – Three American Folk Tunes, written as a commission for Mercer by Mack Wilberg, the director of the Tabernacle Choir and a skilled composer in his own right. Mr. Wilberg chose Skip to My Lou, Red River Valley, and Kingwood, but using the text of Lo, On a Narrow Neck of Land. The messages of these songs (hold on to your partner, one might wander, but love waits at home, and honoring all that is sacred, including love) are as timely today as they were in earlier times.

This is a wonderful work that should immediately enter the repertoire. The jaunty bustle of Skip to My Lo, the plaintive simplicity of Red River Valley, and the building intensity of Lo, On a Narrow Neck of Land, demonstrated Mr. Wilberg’s  talent to the maximum effect with the simplest of means. It was given a winning performance, and the audience gave a standing ovation in approval.

The ”programmed encore,” of the folk tune Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing (as arranged by Mack Wilberg), ended the concert. The audience offered a final standing ovation. Congratulations to all!

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

Vocal Artists Management Services

James Greening-Valenzuela, manager

Gretchen Greenfield, artistic consultant

Opera America National Opera Center, Marc A. Scorca Hall, New York, NY

February 6, 2025

Vocal Artists Management Services (VAMS) presented their Sixteenth Season Artist Showcase on February 1, 2024, in the Marc A. Scorca Hall at the Opera America National Opera Center. Arias and songs from Mozart, Handel, Glück, Richard Strauss, Puccini, Giordano, Verdi, Paolo Tosti, Britten, Barber, John Kander, and Mark-Anthony Turnage were the eighteen selections to be performed by eight artists. A brief synopsis of each scene/song was included in the program notes. The eight artists were (in alphabetical order) Pedro Carreras, Jr., Mark Davies, Nelson Ebo, Andrew Egbuchiem, Michael González, Rebecca Kidnie, Tom Sitzler,  and Stacey Stofferahn. The rock-steady pianist Eric Malson once again did heroic work all evening. James Greening-Valenzuela, Manager of VAMS, greeted the audience and happily announced that, unlike in previous editions, all the artists were present and the program would proceed exactly as printed in the program.

As I have noted in previous reviews at this venue, the Marc A. Scorca Hall has the intimacy of a salon, with very live acoustics that give the listener a sense of immediacy not felt in larger (or less acoustically live) venues.

Each artist had at least two selections, and to comment on each selection would turn this review into a book report, so I will limit myself to commenting on each artist’s highlight. I apologize in advance if anyone feels shortchanged.

Let’s start with the baritones. Mark Davies projected Count Almaviva’s vexation in “Hai gia vinta la causa” from Le nozze di Figaro with a delightful combination of fury alternating with bewilderment on being outsmarted by his servants Figaro and Susanna. Tom Sitzler captured to a tee the infuriating pomposity and self-congratulatory posturing of Scarpia in the “Te Deum” from Tosca. He was effective in the role that one might be excused for wanting to hate him! Both gentlemen have wonderfully sonorous voices.

On to the tenors: Pedro Carreras, Jr. offered a heart-wrenching good-bye to life in the title role of “Come un bel di di maggio” in Giordono’s Andrea Chenier – without allowing any descent into maudlin histrionics. It was striking. Michael González showed his versatility in a smart performance of Samuel Barber’s “Solitary Hotel,” number four of the five songs from Despite and Still, Op.41. The underlying intrigue in what seems to be a matter-of-fact text is what makes it “work,” and Mr. González brought that intrigue forward with subtlety. Last, but not least, was Nelson Ebo, who brought enough passion to fill any hall. Without taking anything away from any of the other artists, Mr. Ebo was far-and-away the most energetic performer of the evening, who not only wowed with his powerful voice, but also acted his roles to the maximum. Some might have found it over-the-top, but the audience was wholly engaged by his complete commitment. We saw and heard his Othello in the last throes of his life as he laments his despair at falling for Iago’s machinations in  “Nium mi tema” from Otello, complete with Mr. Ebo “dying” at the end.

I had been witness previously to the incredible vocal gymnastics of countertenor Andrew Egbuchiem, and tonight, it was his artistry that was front and center. He captured the emotional impact of the poignant “Dove sei amato bene” from Handel’s Rodelinda with great purity of voice.

Finally, the sopranos: Stacey Stofferahn was having fun at portraying the “naughtiness” of a secret tryst in the midst of a “joyous feast of merrymakers,” in Richard Strauss’s Heimliche Aufforderung, Op.27, No.3. Mind you, this “fun” comes with the requirement of a highly accomplished singer. Ms. Stofferahn made it seem so easy, which of course, it is not! Rebecca Kidnie ended the evening with a confident “You Can Pray” from Mark-Anthony Turnage’s opera Anna Nicole (yes, that Anna Nicole). In what starts as a plaintive dream that ends as a rowdy burlesque (the last words are “Come to Mama!” complete with a suggestive gesture – use your imagination), Ms. Kidnie moved through this “journey” without a hint of irony or insincerity, which was impressive.

Mr. Greening-Valenzuela hinted that the next edition might take place this year in October, so one might not have to wait another year before hearing these gifted singers again. Stay tuned!

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

Co-Founders of LSQ Music and pianists: Yimiao Fang and Tiehan Pan,

Guest Artist: Peiming Cai, baritone

Steinway Hall, New York, NY

January 31, 2025

Yimiao Fang and Tiehan Pan, as pianists, co-founders, and directors of Lincoln Square Music Management and Consulting (LSQ), presented a lovely concert at Steinway Hall last week that featured, in addition to their own performances, eight young pianists and guest baritone Peiming Cai. As the event took place two days into the Chinese New Year, Ms. Fang introduced the concert with some inspirational words about the spirit of renewal before contributing her own performance of Chopin’s F major Ballade (Op. 38), and the concert concluded with two Chinese songs, sung nostalgically by guest baritone Peiming Cai, with Mr. Pan at the piano. In between these adult bookends, what took place was not unlike the student recitals with which most pianist-teachers are familiar, with a mixture of adrenaline highs and some “teachable moments” destined to be discussed at further lessons. In that light, though I was assigned to give my professional review this concert, I will cast aside my “crusty critic” persona and wear the “auntie” hat, going light on quibbles, as these darling youngsters are years away from deciding whether to brave the rigors of life as professional musicians. (Also, for full disclosure, this concert is being reviewed on the basis of a professional video recording of it, not live attendance).

On the subject of group recitals, no finer description has been written than that by my good friend and colleague Alexandra Eames (Rutgers Pianists in Review), who wrote the following:

“Most musicians cut their teeth in group recitals, whether in their suburban teacher’s living room or community music school recitals. This is an awkward and nerve-wracking experience; one waits in the wings unsure of when he will have to step onstage and face the specter of inevitable comparison. To relax and find one’s stride in just one or two pieces is extremely difficult and the performer must go through the same physical preparations (dressing for performance, arriving on time, trying the instrument, etc.) as he would for a full-length recital. Often the most sensitive artists can be sabotaged by the endeavor, whereas the more arrogant temperaments barrel through their nerves.”

Considering such issues, this Steinway recital was well planned to be a New Year event, making each player part of a celebration, rather than the subject of an adjudicator’s checklist (e.g., memorization, polish, phrasing, dynamics, pedaling, articulations, balance, expression, etc.). Commentary from Mr. Pan was interspersed between performances, and generally these added off-the-cuff friendliness (though in some cases one felt sorry for the performer, waiting through introductory comments while onstage).

Of the young pianists, the first was Ziwei Xu, who imbued the third movement of Schubert’s Sonata in A major (D. 644) with amiable feeling. To do just the third movement of one of Schubert’s masterpieces is an unsettling proposition, as the movement’s magic connects to the rest of the Sonata, but young Mr. Xu took on the challenge bravely. There was no age or biography given for any of the eight young pianists, so one would have to guess at Mr. Xu’s age, but certainly his relatively thoughtful approach to this classic marked him as one of the more mature players.

Ethan Wong was the next promising performer, offering the Etude Op. 65 in F major (the 25th of 48 Progressive Etudes) by Carl Albert Loeschhorn (1819-1905). It was a pleasure to hear from a set of pieces we don’t hear too often these days, and Mr. Wong’s performance showed commendable poise and control for one so young. Undoubtedly, with time, the balance between melodic and accompanying material will be refined still further.

The next few works brought us into the twentieth century, starting with the Enrique Granados set of gems, Valses Poeticos, published in their second – completed – version right around 1900. Tingjun Chen played No. 6 from the set, showing real tenderness and dedication as he colored the work’s poignant harmonies. Occasionally he could have observed the rests more – but the overholding was certainly preferable to the opposite in this soulful piece. William (Mingzhen) Ma was next with two selections from Prokofiev’s Music for Children, Soir and March (Op. 65, Nos. 11 and 10 respectively). These performances stood out, first for the sensitivity in the beautiful Soir,and then for good rhythm and articulations in the March. Emma Magni added some Kabalevsky mischief to the mix with what was listed as A Little Joke (usually listed as A Little Prank), Op.27, No.13. She played with poise and confidence.

A French segment emerged next, as Jason Zhou played Debussy’s Arabesque No. 1, followed by Heaven (Mingxi) Ma playing Auguste Durand’s Valse No.1, Op.83. Mr. Zhou handled the Arabesque‘s challenges with aplomb for one so young. Though one imagines it will acquire more and more mastery with just a bit more attention to nuance and pedaling, it is well on its way. It was also nice to hear Mr. Ma play the seldom heard bonbon by Durand, a musician known not so much for his compositions as for his publications of Ravel, Debussy, and numerous other great French composers. Mr. Ma showed good skill in his fleet fingerwork.

The youngsters’ portion of the concert concluded with Mozart, as we heard Alma Zhang playing the first movement of the F major Sonata K. 332. She gave it an excellent performance for one so young, showing strong promise.

The final offerings, Chinese songs By the Waterside and China in the Lights, found LSQ Music Co-founder Tiehan Pan as the able piano collaborator with Peiming Cai, who lent his rich baritone voice to cap off the festivities. It was a shame not to have any biographical information of Mr. Cai in the program, as he performed quite well and was apparently substituting for the previously announced guest artist, Brenda Iglesias. Mr. Pan handled his part well, never overwhelming Mr. Cai but lending strong support. His background includes degrees from the Manhattan School of Music and studies at Columbia University and NYU, as well as performances in noted concert halls and participation at numerous festivals. His full-time accompanying of the studio of renowned mezzo-soprano Mignon Dunn certainly has prepared him well, and so these very accessible songs were “child’s play” for him.

It is never easy to be director, emcee, proxy stage-parent, speaker, and performer, all in the same concert, but both Ms. Fang and Mr. Pan were able to handle multiple roles. As co-founder Ms. Fang (neglected in this review thus far) opened the concert with Chopin’s Ballade in F major, Op. 38, one marveled that she could capture the mood so well after handling spoken introductions (in a non-native language) and what one imagines were probably last-minute questions and concerns from nervous children and their parents (plus recording issues and more). Inevitably, this would not be the scenario for an ideal performance – and indeed she faced a few issues, including some lost inner textures and lapses; that said, she captured much of the drama of her piece and set the tone of professionalism for what followed. She has good credentials, including various awards. Her biography includes studies with Prof. Yunjie Chen (who teaches at the Central Conservatory of Music) and degrees from the Manhattan School of Music (with Dr. Marc Silverman and Prof. Phillip Kawin), and doctoral studies at the University of Hartford (with Prof. José Ramos Santana). She has had concerts in important venues and participation in various festivals – as well as a strong record as a teacher herself. It is also clear that she is on a mission to support the love of music and advancement of young musicians, so congratulations are in order for this successful inaugural concert of her organization.

As the young performers stood on stage at the end to receive certificates, they beamed with pride, their hard work having born fruit. It was heart-warming. Congratulations to all!

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

The preeminent clarinetist Charles Neidich took time out of his busy day recently to chat with New York Concert Review about the imminent return of his extremely popular WA Concert Series and, what’s more, the creation of a new and innovative orchestra in New York, the WA Sinfonietta, with concerts in March and May under the auspices of the newly established Artena Foundation. Big things are afoot!

Classical music lovers need little introduction to Charles Neidich, as he has made his mark in New York and internationally for decades, performing with the world leading orchestras and ensembles, but we’ll summarize (and the reader may also visit his website, charlesneidich.net). Brought into prominence in 1985 as the first clarinetist to win the prestigious Walter W. Naumburg Competition, he is known not only as one of the world’s foremost virtuoso clarinetists but also as a musical visionary who also composes, conducts, edits, curates, and teaches (Juilliard, Manhattan School of Music, Mannes, and CUNY Graduate School). He can be heard on the Chandos, Sony Classical, Sony Vivarte, Deutsche Grammophon, Musicmasters, Pantheon, and Bridge labels, and most recently in the Mozart Basset Clarinet Concerto on historical instruments for Bremen Radio Hall Recordings.

New Yorker music lovers will undoubtedly be excited by the return of the WA Concerts (reviewed several times in New York Concert Review by this reviewer and others), but the news of a new orchestra, the WA Sinfonietta, brings the anticipation to a new level.  We are delighted to share with our readers his discussion of all this and more.

Rorianne Schrade: I understand you’re bringing back WA Concerts! I’ve heard several – including one last year – and they were fantastic, so I can’t wait!

Charles Neidich: Thank you very much. The WA concert with that we were going to start with is

March 9th at 3:00 PM, and that will be Wind Miniatures. Our program is not completely set, but there is a work with for clarinet and alto saxophone by Gabriela Ortiz, and then there are Three Sonnets for Woodwind Pairs by Elinor Armer  – and we’re filling it out with other pieces as well.

RS: Is this also at the Tenri Institute?

CN: Yes this will be at Tenri.

RS: I’m so glad you are returning … and do you have any other WA dates we can share with our readers?

CN: Well, basically, the bigger project that is happening is from our foundation which we have just started, which is called the Artena Foundation, and that is the WA Sinfonietta, which is an orchestra. So, I will conduct that, and this is the beginning of a larger project which will involve educational outreach and also opportunities for young people to play concertos with the orchestra as well …  but we’ll start this season with two concerts.

RS: This is fantastic! Please tell me more about those if you would – and also about the name Artena.

CN: Right. Artena is basically an acronym from art, technology, and nature.

RS: Ah, I see …  and I recall that the name WA itself also had a special meaning. For readers unfamiliar with the WA series, started by Mr. Neidich with his wife and brilliant clarinetist Ayako Oshima, WA is a Japanese word for a circle or ring symbolizing harmony, completeness, the continuity of past, present, future, and the unity of all of humankind. So Artena embraces this as well. And so you’re starting the WA Sinfonietta with two concerts?

CN: Yes and the first concert will be the evening of March 23rd, and that will be in the Good Shepherd Faith Church which is on 66th Street.

RS: Right near Juilliard …

CN: Exactly right, and this particular concert will take its meaning in a certain way from the concert which was October 25th, 1885, where Brahms premiered his Fourth Symphony with the Meiningen orchestra called the Meiningen Court Orchestra. The Meiningen Court Orchestra was considered to be the best orchestra in Europe, and it was Brahms’s favorite orchestra. Meiningen at that time was a tiny little town, but it had a Duke who loved music and was very close to all things which were modern at that time. He was also very close to Wagner, and many of the musicians from the Meiningen orchestra actually played in the Bayreuth orchestra also. That was the sort of gig that they did, the kind of extra work for that particular orchestra. Now, the Court Orchestra was very interesting, because it was a small orchestra of basically 48 players, so if they had needed something more, they would add let’s say extra brass or extra percussion, but basically it was that. You had basically nine first violins, nine second violins, you had let’s say five violas, four cellos, four basses in there, and double winds and brass. Brahms wrote his Fourth Symphony for this orchestra, and so in this concert that we’re doing, the makeup of the Sinfonietta will be like the Meiningen Court Orchestra. What is interesting about that is that, with the smaller number of strings, you have much more equal balance between winds and strings.

RS: I see .. very interesting.

CN: Yes, so that I look at the at the Fourth Symphony as a work which is in a certain sense almost in between orchestral music and chamber music, and it was this smaller configuration that Brahms actually preferred for this symphony, because when he premiered it at the Meiningen he was offered extra strings, but he declined the offer!

RS: That’s important to know…

CN: You see he wanted more equal balance between winds and strings, and what we hear first of all with that kind of orchestral setup even in the beginning of it is that what the winds play is actually an outline of the melody in canon. We never hear that. You see, so it’s quite beautiful in this way. I think it’s quite illuminating to play this piece that way. Also, what you can do is have much more flexibility in terms of tempo. And, if we read for instance the notes of Steinbach, a composer Brahms was very close to, he has notes about all the symphonies and we can see how he as he mentions about tempo and this kind of flexibility of tempo.

Now, one other thing with the Fourth Symphony which is going to be quite notable, I think, is that Brahms actually wrote a four-measure introduction and he was convinced not to include it in the publication, and I think it’s never actually been performed. There is an interview with George Szell where he talks about that a little bit, but I don’t think he presents it very convincingly. (The listener can hear Szell’s explanation here: George Szell and Brahms).  I actually think that the introduction gives a very different sense to the piece, you see, so it’s it becomes a little more like, for instance, in the second movement of Beethoven’s Seventh Symphony – you have this A-minor chord and the winds that get softer, and then the piece starts after that – and I have the feeling that that may have been the inspiration that Brahms had. So, you have this, which comes out very strongly and then sort of goes back, and in the way Brahms wrote it, it actually starts in A minor then goes to E minor, then finally it keeps diminuendo-ing until the strings come in. I think that enables that opening melody which he writes as piano in the orchestra to really be piano.

RS:  What a difference… and I’m curious to know, because I know you’ve done a lot of conducting, have you done this particular Symphony this way before?

CN: I’ve never done it this way. I’ve actually conducted the Fourth Symphony but I never did that, but I think that especially going back, because we’re remembering the world premiere of the piece in 1885, maybe we can have a second World Premiere.

RS: A second premiere of Brahms sounds amazing! Are there other pieces on the rest of the program that you can share with us?

CN: Well, the program will be based on that concert from 1885, … and that concert started with the Mendelssohn Opus 32,  the Overture to The Beautiful Melusine, so we will start with that. In the concert in 1885, that was followed by the Brahms Violin Concerto – instead, I’ll play Mozart’s Clarinet Concerto, and then we will end with the Brahms 4th Symphony.

RS: I can’t wait for that concert, March 23 – not to be missed. Now, can you also tell us a bit about the second concert, the one in May?

CN: Yes, so the second concert will be on May 13th.

RS: And is this second one also at Good Shepherd?

CN: No that’s going to be at the DiMenna Center. And this one will involve a smaller orchestra but it’s  going to feature first the Mieczyslaw Weinberg Clarinet Concerto, which is his Opus 104, which he wrote in 1970, and that will be an American premiere.

RS: Very exciting!

CN: Then, also the Weinberg’s Fourth Chamber Symphony, which is the last piece that he wrote, and that’s also I think its American premiere, though I’m not exactly sure, but I think it is. We will start that program with Shostakovich. There’s an arrangement of the Shostakovich Third String Quartet which Rudolf Barshai made. He was a great violist and the conductor and founder of the Moscow Chamber Orchestra, which I played in when I was a student in Moscow.

RS: Yes, I know that in the seventies you were there in Moscow on a Fulbright for three years.

CN: Yes …  and Barshai arranged the Third String Quartet for a Chamber Orchestra, and it has the name Shostakovich Symphony for Strings and Winds opus 73a. The Opus 73 is the quartet, and so they list this arrangement as 73a. This was supposedly given approval by Shostakovich, and it’s very well done. I’m very happy in a very nostalgic way to do that piece, because I played in the Moscow Chamber Orchestra, and I was fairly close to Rudolf Barshai, first as a student in Moscow. That was very interesting, because I was just an American student there, and I got a notice in the dormitory mailbox to please show up at this rehearsal. I had no idea, and I showed up and there it was, the Moscow Chamber Orchestra. I don’t know why and how, but he had I guess heard of me being there and maybe wanted a good clarinet player.

RS:  From what I’ve heard, you were much more than “just an American clarinetist” there … but more on that later…

CN: So anyway, this is also in a way kind of in memory of Barshai, as well as Shostakovich, that I’m doing that – and Weinberg. Weinberg was alive when I was a student there, although he was not living in Moscow, but I had no idea of his existence. He had been very much in Moscow and Leningrad (now Saint Petersburg of course), but he was completely … oh … canceled, I guess you could say. He was composing still, but he was not being performed at all and not even mentioned, his name. It’s very interesting … I think he was in Minsk, and maybe his music was played in Minsk, but not where I was at all, so I didn’t know of his existence.

RS: You’ve done so much to unearth music from composers who were canceled by the Soviets in that era. Can you tell us some more about that?

CN: It’s very interesting that Shostakovich had three major composers whom he in a way championed himself, and were sort of acolytes. Weinberg was the closest, and they were almost the same age I think, and they were really very much best friends. Weinberg, of course, had had a very tragic life and Shostakovich was not able to help him. Then the other one of course was Galina Ustvolskaya, who was considered to be his best student and his favorite student, and she totally broke with Shostakovich finally, even though they were very close, because she felt that he did not stand up for his principles with enough force. I think that she basically took herself out of circulation in a way, but her music is actually remarkable. The other composer’s name was Alexander Lokshin, and at least I was able to meet Lokshin. The reason why, although he was very much also kind of canceled when I was there, was that he had a few supporters, and Barshai was one of them. Barshai took me to meet him at his little apartment, and we had a whole afternoon together, very fascinating … a brilliant fellow, he was. Also we recorded I think it was his Tenth Symphony with Barshai, and so I played a solo clarinet part – there was a contralto clarinet, violin, and orchestra – so he had me play in that recording. So, I have a little more personal recollection and experience with Lokshin, but those three were the most important I should say followers of Shostakovich, and it was so interesting that they were really shunted it off completely to the sidelines when I was a student there, which actually was one year after Shostakovich’s death, and I don’t know why, but it was interesting.

RS I believe my first big exposure to Lokshin came through your WA concerts…  but this concert in May reflects more your exploration of Weinberg and Shostakovich.

CN: The Weinberg Clarinet Concerto was I guess you could say in a certain way rediscovered quite recently. Even when I was in Moscow I didn’t know of its existence, and he had written in 1970, so I  was in Moscow after he had written it. I asked friends of mine in Moscow when I found out about its existence – and I even went there a few times early in the 21st century and asked about it – and nobody knew about that piece. So it’s really more recently that Weinberg’s music has actually once again come to the fore, and his music is quite remarkable, I think.

RS: We need to know more.

CN: That’s right, and the Fourth Chamber Symphony, which is the last work, is very, very special in a way. So, the second concert will have the Shostakovich arranged by Barshai and the Weinberg Clarinet Concerto, and then we’ll end with Weinberg’s Fourth Chamber Symphony. That piece is so … it’s not tragic, but  there is something about it which is sort of not completely of this world. It’s a very remarkable work. Of course you know always the music from what was the Soviet Union time and the Eastern Bloc, the way the composers composed was very much like writing memoirs, which they wrote in music, like in a diary in music … and this has that sense of his life. There are all sorts of different things happening and then finally coming to terms with the end of life, in a way.

RS: This should be a monumental concert. Where else would we be able to hear such a concert led by someone who has delved so deeply into this music? I don’t want to change gears, and I would love to hear much more about this, but I meant to ask you about your own composing as well and everything else that’s going on. Also, are you going to record some of these?

CN: I’m hoping, and beginning in a certain way, to create a legacy, and I have been composing. It’s a slow process, because I’m doing too much teaching and everything else, but you know that’s not unimportant to do. So, I do have some pieces that are sort of in process now, and pieces which I have written already – and I’m also doing more editing. I  will start again to record, and in the not too distant future I’ll be recording the Brahms sonatas with the piano that Brahms played, and the clarinet which is his great friend Richard Mühlfeld played, and that will be with Robert Levin. We’ve had a history with those pieces and also playing them on so-called period instruments as well.

RS: So exciting … I would love to hear more about that. I also hope you record the Weinberg and all of these lesser-known works in May for posterity.

CN: That’s right, so we hope to have recordings. It’s always an issue, you know, you record from a concert, and then it’s an archival recording, so can we release it or can we not release it – there’s all that kind of problematic stuff,  but we will record them.

RS: A lot to look forward to … well, I’m tempted to ask you a million more questions, but if you’ll indulge me, one odd question I have is based on a story I’d heard back in the eighties, about how the Soviet musicians were mesmerized by your breathing techniques, something they were at the time not so familiar with…

CN: Well, that was what’s called circular breathing, and that was actually a very ancient technique, and it’s in Eastern classical music, whether it’s Indian music or Chinese or Japanese, the wind players always were able to do this. This circular breathing was even mentioned by the flutist who Bach knew and whom Bach wrote for named Pierre-Gabrielle Buffardin, who mentioned that he learned to circular from the glass blowers in Constantinople at that time, and of course the glass blowing you must do circular breathing because you have to keep blowing through the glass as you’re creating it – otherwise you have to start again, you see. So that technique is very ancient, and I actually believe that it was much more common 200 years ago, or even like 150 years ago, than it was recently, and there have been jazz players who did it, but in the clarinet world, at least in the modern clarinet world, I was pretty much, I think, the first person to do that.

RS: Meaning the first in the Soviet Union? or here?

CN: Maybe in general in classical clarinet. It’s possible there was someone else, but I’m not so sure about that. Nowadays this technique is much more common, but I actually see that I’m actually the root of that.

RS: I’m so glad to have followed up on that after so many years. Also, I was wanting to ask, after I reread about your degree in anthropology from Yale, how that may have informed  your musical life – and also what  advice you would give to younger musicians now, compared to, let’s say, in the 70s and 80s.

CN: I can just mention just very briefly about anthropology. So I was of a generation where I went to school to get an education to learn things, you see, and I didn’t have any sense that I’m going to school to get a profession… and I think this was maybe a wonderful time. I was not alone at that time, when I was doing that, so it was a much more idealistic, maybe naive, time that we had then. And so I did study anthropology, and then I studied philosophy. I majored in anthropology, and I think what I would say is just that it gave me a broader worldview, if not an understanding and interest in many different kinds of musics throughout the world.

RS: Well, that shows.

CN: Also, especially in philosophy, it’s how to think about things … and I think about what I would tell young musicians now. You know this is a difficult time. It’s much more difficult than when I was a student, I have to say. And you don’t know why there are all sorts of monetary problems, natural problems, climate change, and all sorts of social fabric around the world sort of cracking about, and I think that young musicians have to see themselves as advocates for the value of humanity, in a way, and have to sort of have that always in mind.

RS: “Advocates for the value of humanity”  – that is a powerful phrase to remember.

CN: That doesn’t help them get a job of course.

RS: No, that’s a different story (sigh)… we won’t go there.

CN: Nowadays, also in a way, musicians have to have a kind of entrepreneurial spark, so they can’t just be content with getting this position here or this position there. We have to reinspire a love of classical music, and it’s a big very big responsibility,

RS: Perhaps because you were not ever limited to a small practice room aiming to have a profession, you became more a citizen of the world. At any rate, you are a great ambassador for those wanting to learn about classical music. I always find your concerts thought-provoking. There are always patterns and themes, and that’s part of what is so enriching about them.

CN: Well, thank you. I always try for that, and I try to show that we can use classical music to connect to many different kinds of people.

RS: I also recall the amazing spreads after WA concerts… and for a while you all went virtual, and we were all so distraught missing the live concerts.

CN: You know the pandemic really did terrible damage to so much…

RS: Live music particularly …

CN: That’s right, because music is a communal art form. The idea of having food and music and different things, it’s just more difficult or scary to do now. You know, if we can emotionally come out of this in in a positive way – because I think we’ve come out of the pandemic in a very negative way in a lot of respects – then maybe we can start again with these kinds of more communal things.

RS: That’s a beautiful thought. I love that. I don’t want to rack this up, but that would be a good note to end on. I will close with just wishing you the very best in all these exciting ventures. I know they will bring yet another gift from you to the world.

For more information on the WA Concert Series, the WA Sinfonietta, and the Artena Foundation, please visit: artenafoundation.org

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

Jonathan Griffith, Artistic Director and Principal Conductor

Sir Karl Jenkins, CBE, DCINY Composer-in-Residence

Elliott Forrest, WQXR Radio Personality and Host

Penelope Shumate, Soprano; Claudia Chapa, Mezzo-Soprano; Daniel Rich, Baritone

Brenda Vongova, President of the UN Chamber Music Society

Distinguished Concerts Orchestra; Distinguished Concerts Singers International

Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

January 20, 2025

In what has become a tradition marking the commemoration of Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presented a concert featuring the music of Sir Karl Jenkins on January 20, 2025. This year’s version included two works, Gloria (2010), and the North American premiere of One World. This is Sir Karl’s 18^th appearance with DCINY. The Distinguished Concerts singers came from California, Massachusetts, New York, West Virginia, Germany, Guatemala, The Netherlands, Northern Ireland, United Kingdom, and individual singers around the globe.

DCINY Artistic Director and Principal Conductor Jonathan Griffith took the podium to conduct Gloria, the sole work on the first half. This five-movement work for orchestra, chorus, and vocal soloist clocks in around thirty-five minutes. Gloria is an extended setting of the Gloria section of the Ordinary of the Mass. The first, second, and fifth movements use the Latin text, and the third and fourth movements use Psalm 150 in Hebrew plus a song derived from biblical verses in English. Spoken passages from sacred text of four religions (Hinduism, Buddhism, Taoism, Islam) also are part of the composition. The speakers of these texts were, in order of appearance, Surenda Adana, Christopher Hudson, Gang Yue, and Brenda Vongona. Mezzo-soprano Claudia Chapa, a DCINY favorite, was the vocal soloist.

The first movement The Proclamation: Gloria in excelsis Deo, opened with an arresting heraldic fanfare, setting the stage for the chorus to burst forth with jubilation. The second movement, The Prayer: Laudamus te, had a serene quality that was sentimental without becoming saccharine. The third movement, The Psalm: Tehillim – Psalm 150, was the highlight for this listener. The sounds of Adiemus, one of Jenkins’s most popular works, were much in evidence. The exuberant DCINY percussion section “rocked the house” with such energy that the huge chorus at times struggled to be heard clearly. Even with this, the net effect was electrifying, with a final Amen! delivered in a burst of joy. The fourth movement, The Song: I’ll Make Music, was another journey of beauty, brought to life by the radiant voice of Ms. Chapa. It was the high point of her solos. The work’s opening motif reappeared in the final movement, The Exaltation: Domine Deus, before the momentum slowly abated to a concluding Amen.

Maestro Griffith led with his customary sure hand – he is truly a master of dealing with these colossal forces. The Distinguished Concerts Orchestra can always be counted on to deliver a strong performance, and the chorus and individual directors who prepared them are to be congratulated as well. Sir Karl came to the stage to the cheers of the large audience.

After intermission, WQXR radio personality and host Elliott Forrest joined Sir Karl and Jonathan Griffith in a brief Q&A, which really took more the form of an informal chat. Sir Karl’s droll sense of humor was front and center (Q: Are you an optimist? A: with a look of horror- No!) which had the audience laughing loudly. We learned that today was Mr. Forrest’s birthday, and the large crowd, chorus, and orchestra sang Happy Birthday to him.

After all this merriment, Maestro Griffith had the honor of conducting the North American premiere of One World . It is an hour-long, fourteen-movement work for orchestra, chorus, and three vocal soloists. Those soloists were soprano Penelope Shumate (another DCINY favorite), mezzo-soprano Claudia Chapa, and baritone Daniel Rich.

As the composer himself writes, “One World heralds a vision of a peaceful and egalitarian planet that treats nature and ecological issues with respect and where human rights are universal. Where truth is truth and news is never ‘fake‘, where leaders do not lie, transparency is a given and all faiths live together in peace. There is neither famine nor war.“ This ideal is quintessential Jenkins, complete with his signature use of diverse texts reflecting all faiths and touching on social issues, paired with his use of ethnic instruments and rhythmic motifs in a melodic and harmonic language that is unmistakably his own.

A detailed discussion of all fourteen movements would be beyond the scope of this review, but interested readers can reference the excellent notes written by Jenkins: Program Notes. Let’s focus on some highlights: 1.In the Beginning had a primordial quality that fit well musically depicting the act of Creation. 2. Let’s Go (Tower of Babel) had the chorus in a quasi-rap chant before the whole thing descended into bedlam, with the chorus pantomiming the chaos and confusion of the aftermath of not being able to understand each other any longer. 4. Ad Lucem (Towards Light) for solo violin and orchestra was as luminous as the title suggests with DCINY concertmaster Jorge Ávila as soloist. 8. Savitur (The Divine Sun, the ultimate light of wisdom) had an inexorable building of energy, with each iteration of the text becoming more insistent in its declaration.

As for the soloists, Penelope Shumate was heavenly in 13. Sakura, Spring Has Come (Cherry Blossoms in bloom represent a time of renewal). Claudia Chapa shone in 7. Tikkun Olam (Repair the World). Daniel Rich was a force of strength and regal dignity in 12. Bury Me in a Free Land, which also was the most powerful movement of the entire work.

The final movement, 14. The Golden Age Begins Anew, was not what one might have expected. Instead of optimistic bombast, it is a quiet, and thoughtful meditation, as if to say, “let’s get it right this time.” When it was over, Sir Karl again came to the stage to a standing ovation.

Maestro Griffith again was outstanding in his leadership. It would seem he is “dialed in” to Jenkins’s music in a way that sets him apart from others, not exactly a surprise considering the long relationship and collaboration DCINY has had with Jenkins. It was a winning performance of a monumental work. The chorus members, regardless of whatever path they take in the future, can say with pride, “we were a part of the North American premiere of a work by one of the most popular and frequently performed composers in the 21^st century, on one of the most famous concert stages in the world.”

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

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!

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