Eric Whitacre, Composer/Conductor; Kelly Yu-Chieh Lin, Piano

Featuring: Laurence Servaes, Sara Jean Ford, April Amante, David Castillo, Peter Kendall Clark, and

Distinguished Concerts Singers International

Stern Auditorium, Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

November 29, 2022

Holiday carols, the premiere of a Christmas opera by a Grammy-winning composer, and a charismatic conductor leading it all – what more could one ask for in a holiday concert? Perhaps a choir of angelic children onstage? Oh, there was that too. In their typically winning combination of the traditional and the new, Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presented a program Tuesday that featured Eric Whitacre conducting carols along with several of his own compositions, including the world premiere of the 2022 version of his Christmas opera The Gift of the Magi, based on the O’Henry short story – and it was a spectacular evening.

To start, the dashing Mr. Whitacre welcomed the audience with some light commentary, including sharing that the choruses of several hundred singers from all over the US and Canada had only met in person two days before to rehearse. Judging by their polish and unity, one would not have guessed, though they all were clearly well prepared by their regular local choral conductors and coaches who took a bow at the end. The first (smaller) chorus kicked off the evening with a crisp, energetic performance of Carol of the Bells (arr. Peter Wilhousky), and the tone was set for a festive night. Angels We Have Heard on High followed, in an arrangement by Donald McCullough which seemed to demand a tempo a bit slower than one usually hears, probably to allow its rich harmonies to speak – and it was enchanting.

Mr. Whitacre then conducted one of his own compositions, the well-known Lux Aurumque (Light and Gold), which  I first had the pleasure of reviewing in March of 2009 at the then Avery Fisher Hall (and there again in April 2018  when Avery Fisher had become David Geffen Hall). It’s enough to make one feel very old, but this transcendent piece itself never gets old, with its close harmonies creating a special shimmering sound. This Carnegie performance of it was all it should be, translucent and hallowed. The traditional American hymn Brightest and Best (arranged by Shawn Kirchner) closed this group of songs,  hinting at the Magi theme to come with its mentions of myrrh and gold.

Clad in bright red, the New York City Children’s Chorus filed onstage next, including some very young singers (certainly some in the single digits). They joined in two pieces, the ubiquitous Christmas Time is Here (Vince Guaraldi, arranged by Robert Sterling), sung with an airy innocence, and a longer second piece that Mr. Whitacre’s jokingly called his own Christmas oratorio, The Boy Who Laughed at Santa Claus. As angelic as the Guaraldi classic is, The Boy Who Laughed at Santa Claus is the opposite, all about a naysaying little brat named Jabez Dawes (think the Grinch, but younger). Set to hilarious verses by the inimitable Ogden Nash, it added just the right vinegar to the program’s predominant sweetness, bearing out the old saying that playing the villain can be the most fun. The piece is spiked with musical tauntings (the descending third “nyah-nyah” motif), plus twisted bits of Carol of the Bells, Dance of the Sugar-Plum Fairy, and a final Joy To the World as Jabez meets his well-earned comeuppance from Santa Claus himself. It was delivered with great relish and unfailing support in its demanding piano part from Kelly Yu-Chieh Lin, who was a pillar all evening.

On a side note, I hope that Mr. Whitacre’s exploration of Nash continues – as I recall with joy reviewing also his Nash-based Animal Crackers in 2009 (and with more recent “encores” by DCINY) and just know there must be more up his sleeve. Meanwhile, he channeled that zest for entertaining into his commentary between pieces, and, as hundreds more choristers filed onstage during the planned “Pause” (no actual intermission), he managed to regale us through all of it with what he called his “three-martini story” about the origins of The Gift of the Magi, a story shared traditionally by his family.

Before the long-awaited premiere of the Magi revision came one more piece, Mr. Whitacre’s celestial and aptly named Glow, a piece that has gained a huge following as part of his Virtual Chorus project, attracting many thousands of participants. It was reviewed in this magazine in 2019 – and was given a beautiful performance at this concert as well.

And at long last, The Gift of the Magi closed the program. At just thirty-five minutes, it is more compact than the word “opera” may suggest to many, and as ever Mr. Whitacre chose great material. For those who haven’t read it, O’Henry’s 1905 story tells of a young struggling couple, Della and Jim, and their frustrating secret searches for Christmas gifts for each other, resulting in Jim’s parting with his watch to buy Della combs, and Della’s selling of her hair to buy Jim a watch chain – both gifts rendered nearly useless. After such a chain of frustrations, the importance of selfless love emerges as the lasting message (contrary to this New Yorker’s proposed takeaways of “buy on credit next time” and “don’t forget your receipt!”).

Mr. Whitacre’s musical setting matches the story’s trajectory well, featuring strenuous recitatives, difficult leaps, and dissonant melodic intervals through the struggling, wishing, and searching, plus exciting rhythm and momentum to capture the hustle and bustle of shopping. Really in the entire thirty-five minutes, nothing relaxed musically (despite my occasionally wishing it would) until the very end, where it settled into Mr. Whitacre’s characteristic lyrical magic as Christmas arrived. Until then it seemed that the recitatives dominated, and even the more arioso sections had a recitativo quality. Momentum prevailed, which is probably a good thing for a piece that will be programmed as one of many selections in concert.

The singers were excellent, especially Laurence Servaes as Della and David Castillo as Jim. Ms. Servaes was simply flabbergasting in her stratospheric soprano leaps as she beheld gifts of gold to buy for her love, and David Castillo, though given perhaps fewer vocal feats of prowess to take on, was superb as the devoted Jim, with a burnished beauty to his tone. Naturally, coming at the end of a choral concert, there were no props to set the scene, but the ensemble created the drama and – with the music of course – guided the listener’s imagination. Peter Kendall Clark excelled with comical inflection as the overzealous Shopkeeper trying to sell watch chains, and Sara Jean Ford and April Amante were just right as the “difficult” women in the hair salon. This work should find itself on many Christmas programs, assuming that equally qualified singers can be found. That may not be easy.

Congratulations go to everyone involved in this remarkable evening, and kudos as well to the following participants: Chapel Hill High School Concert Choir (NC), Christ Episcopal Church Chancel Choir (FL), Greeley Central High School Choir (CO), Kimberly High School Choir (WI), LaGuardia High School Senior Chorus (NY), New York City Children’s Chorus (NY), VOENA Children’s Choir (CA), West Bloomfield High School Choirs (MI), Whippany Park Madrigal Singers (NJ), and individual singers from around the globe.

Éva Polgár, piano; László Borbély, piano; Gábor Varga, jazz piano

Zankel Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

November 27, 2022

A fascinating recital was put together this Sunday at Zankel Hall by pianists Éva Polgár, László Borbély, and Gábor Varga, focusing on music from what was termed “Carpathian” regions of Europe – to include music of Béla Bartók, Zoltán Kodály, and Franz Liszt, with improvisations by Gábor Varga.

I expected strong performances from Ms. Polgár, whom I last heard in November of 2019  (in an excellent trio with violinist Kristóf Baráti and clarinetist Bence Szepesi), and I was not disappointed. What’s more, the entire recital was eye-opening (or “ear-opening” one should say) in its traversal of music highlighting connections among these three composers. Bartók and Kodály have been routinely linked by their shared national music, but Liszt has tended to tower over the world of Romantic piano as a solitary, cosmopolitan genius belonging to no single country or school; it was thus refreshing to hear selections of his – especially his three Csardas and Sursum Corda (in addition to the oft-played Hungarian Rhapsody No. 6) – which, by their placement on the program, were shown to foreshadow the work of Bartók and Kodály in matters of tonal language, rhythm, and repetition.

Speaking of program placement, one quibble Sunday was the degree to which the program order was altered from what was printed, so much so that there were several announcements through the evening of switches along the way (not in repertoire, just sequence), and my program was covered with a roadmap of arrows. Much of the repertoire I know by ear, but because of rapid introductions, the order of improvisations on six Hungarian Folk melodies by Gábor Varga remained a blur. More on those later. It seems that for such an important venue, the program order should be tightened up before printing.

On to the music, the evening started with a fiery performance of Bulgarian Rhythm, the first piece from  Bartók’s Mikrokosmos for two pianos, Sz. 108 (arranged by the composer himself from his one-piano version). László Borbély joined Ms. Polgár for it in what proved to be a superb two-piano pairing. They followed with #2, #6, and #3 from this same set (closing the whole program with the rest). I was going to describe the next as characterized by chords and trills – but Bartók took all that fun away by calling it  – you guessed it – Chords and trills.  The same applies to Chromatic invention and Perpetuum mobile – all played with expert synchronization.

Mr. Borbély followed with Bartók’s famous Allegro Barbaro, showing not just a fine technical grasp but a stylishness and freedom in delineating phrases, rather than the robotic approach one hears too often. He followed this with Bartók’s Improvisations on Hungarian Peasant Songs, Op 20, alternately quiet, deeply felt, and dancelike.

It can’t have been easy to follow such polished performances of notated music with music yet to be improvised – and I’m not sure how fair it is to the improviser to place the two together on a program – but that challenge fell to Gábor Varga who played next (several of his six improvisations, don’t ask me which – though the evocative titles mentioned birds, a village, a forest, wells, a poor man, and the Danube). Mr. Varga has a keyboard facility that incorporates the repetitive dreamy textures one associates with “New Age” music, along with jazz in a more percussive and virtuosic vein. Some of his improvisations exploited tremolos that brought to mind the cimbalom, an instrument commonly associated with Hungarian music, and some seemed simply to drift and explore at great length. Moments were emotional and evocative but other more diffuse sections, which would have been “par for the course” in a jazz lounge setting, were a bit taxing to an audience in the midst of crystallized and practiced compositions – especially as the evening progressed. One high point was an apparent fragment of a key motif from Allegro Barbaro, which we had just heard – thus tying the program together.

Ms. Polgár capped off the first half with Liszt’s Hungarian Rhapsody No. 6, faring beautifully with the repeated octaves for which the piece is famous – or infamous, to pianists. Occasionally, as with many pianists who are focused on the perils in the right hand, she could have devoted a bit more care to some left-hand parts, but all in all, it sent us joyfully into intermission.

The second half opened with more from Ms. Polgár, starting with Liszt’s Sursum corda, from Book III of Années de Pelerinages. It is a late and rather exploratory work, which happened to attract Bartók (and there exists a recording of him playing it). With its unusual use of whole tones that anticipate twentieth-century French music, it led well to the next piece, Zoltán Kodály’s Meditations on a theme by Debussy (1907). It also hearkened back to the Allegro Barbaro in some motives – among the remarkable connections throughout the evening. Kodály’s winsome Valsette, with its comical pentatonic passagework, closed Ms. Polgár’s group.

More improvisations from Mr. Varga followed, leading to the three Liszt Csárdás from 1881-4, played by Mr. Borbély (Csárdás, Csárdás obstinée, S. 225, and Csárdás macabre, S. 224). These are pieces requiring vigor, even obsessiveness, and Mr. Borbély played with almost maniacal virtuosity.

The previously omitted Mikrokosmos for two pianos closed the program, finding Mr. Borbély and Ms. Polgár teaming up again in an irresistible collaboration. As a bonus, Mr. Varga burst onto the stage to start at one piano what became a three-pianist reprise of the opening Bulgarian rhythm of Bartók, complete with some seat-switching antics from the Borbély-Polgár side of the stage. It would have been even more delightful had the entire program been shortened by at least thirty minutes. Including intermission the concert had run well past 9:30, having started at 7:30. No matter how great any performers may be, to extend the time to this point is asking too much from an audience, particularly in this frequently percussive repertoire. Sometimes less is more. A second encore followed posthaste, which I could not follow to the end, having just headed for the escalator.

Jiao Sun, piano

Southampton Cultural Center, Southampton, NY

November 19, 2022

The pianist Jiao Sun is the perfect ambassador for classical music in an era when cultural organizations are rethinking their approach to audience building.  In what is frequently becoming the standard for recital programs, she offered a hearty tasting menu of works spanning the centuries, along with her own friendly and informative prefaces.  The concert clocked in at about one hour, a streamlined but satisfying way to spend a late Saturday afternoon.

A good deal of thought went into the structuring of this program, beginning with the choice of three Scarlatti sonatas, in contrasting keys.  Though I normally prefer not to separate technique from expression, it must be said that Ms. Sun has a secure technical foundation, which she uses in service to the composer.  The two sonatas in major keys were straightforward, brilliant examples of the kind of keyboard writing that is Scarlatti’s domain (those scales in thirds !), but it was the middle sonata in D minor that drew me in the most.  The pianist employed a beautiful singing tone to weave a pure and simple lament into an aria worthy of Handel at his best. 

I would not immediately draw a line from Scarlatti to Haydn, but this juxtaposition in Ms. Sun’s programming allowed us to see the obvious relationship between these two unconventional keyboard composers.  Her modest and contained interpretation of Haydn’s C minor Sonata, Hob XVI/20, suited this work, most especially in the tender Andante con Moto, in which the pianist created a long arching melodic line from start to finish.

Three unrelated compositions, like those socks that come out of the dryer without partners, served as a diversion between the heftier repertoire which framed them.  The pianist had plenty of opportunity here to highlight her strong left hand in Gershwin’s I Got Rhythm and, to a larger extent, in Scriabin’s Étude  Op. 42, No. 5.  I have heard Gershwin’s own recordings of his piano works, and he may not have embraced Ms. Sun’s rubato, but it was a still an infectious interpretation.  And the Scriabin was a triumph, a roiling, turbulent reading of a fiendishly difficult piece.  Ms. Sun’s friend, the Peruvian  Hwaen Ch’uqi, composed the middle work of this trio, a tragicomic short story with the curious title, Threnody of the Elephants on the Death of Their Friend. As befitting it’s subject matter,  this slow, ponderous  elegy hardly ventured above middle C.  The pianist employed subtle dynamic shadings throughout, eventually building a great mass of sound at the climactic conclusion.  This was a strong piece from a composer of promising talent.

All the stops were pulled out in the two concluding pieces of this program, Chopin’s G Minor Ballade and the Liszt Hungarian Rhapsody #6, both of which posed no challenge to Ms. Sun’s stamina.  In particular, the Liszt seemed be squarely in her comfort zone, as she dug deeper into the keys to produce a more robust, meaty sound. Her command of the octave passages in the finale was truly astonishing, and a thrilling end to the evening.

Ms. Sun has all the skills needed for a successful career as a performing artist.  Her gifts are prodigious and her preparation is rigorous.  I would only plant one thought in her head, and that is to allow for more spontaneity, more connection to her own, personal voice as a musician, to bring her to the next level of artistry.

November 23, 2022

Last week I happened upon some great music played by pianist, Javor Bračić, one of many pianists I’ve reviewed in my sixteen-plus years of writing for New York Concert Review, and it was heartening to see how well this fine young musician has weathered recent global trials and tribulations to keep going. His performance spurred some reminiscing about the many others who have filled my evenings with music for a decade and a half – “alums” for lack of a better term – and it seemed as good a time as any to poke around and ask where some are now. When I’ve occasionally written that “I’ll look forward to following this artist’s career” I’ve meant it.

To follow are a few very short updates about a handful (well, ten – so two handfuls) of “alums” from the past decade and a half. To avoid the obvious, we’ll skip updates for musicians already very much in the public eye when reviewed, such as Barry Douglas (2005), Denis Matsuev (2007), Jon Nakamatsu (2007), Carlo Grante (2014, 2015), Ian Hobson (2016), Charles Neidich (2018, 2019), and The King’s Singers (2018).  Also, we’ll limit the scope to pianists – and just a few at that – but there should be more to come periodically.

Going back to a 2006 assignment, a striking experience was hearing Aimee Kobayashi who was around age 10 at the time, showing “the phrasing and professionalism of an adult” on the stage of Carnegie Hall. (These were in the days before NY Concert Review went online, so was print only.) Now in her twenties and on the competition circuit, Ms. Kobayashi has won 4th prize ex aequo in the most recent International Chopin Piano Competition (XVIII, in October of 2021). One can hear her impassioned performance of Chopin’s E minor Concerto on the organization’s website (as well as numerous strong performances on YouTube), and she was clearly a formidable competitor. Sixteen years ago, as a young child, she had already played with great self-assurance Beethoven’s Pathetique Sonata Op. 13, and three Chopin works (Etude in G-flat Op. 10, No 5, Impromptu No. 1 and posthumous Nocturne in C-sharp minor) – possibly with even more self-assurance then than now, as with maturity and depth can come questioning – but it is all a musician’s journey. If memory serves, most striking in 2006 had been her opening, the posthumous Chopin Nocturne – and it is touching to note that she reportedly revisited it recently as an encore in a recital. My archives invite a separate retrospective on the prodigies I’ve reviewed, but suffice it to say that Ms. Kobayashi’s early promise has continued bearing fruit.

A dynamo I first heard in 2006, Ching-Yun Hu impressed with Chopin Rondo’s in E-flat, Op. 16 playing “with elegance and flabbergasting fingerwork. Speaking in terms of sheer technical brilliance, I don’t recall being as amazed even by Horowitz’s performance of the same work.” Working now with the next generation, Ms. Hu has founded the Yun International Music Festival in Taipei and the Philadelphia Young Pianists’ Academy which presents the PYPA Piano Festival and Young Virtuosi (intensive recitals, master classes, and guest lecture series). Besides her performing, master classes, and residencies, she is currently on the piano faculty at Temple University in Philadelphia.

Francesco Piemontesi, whom I reviewed in 2008, had dazzled his audience with a stunning performance of Three Pieces from the Firebird (arr. Agosti), still a vivid memory. In addition to his pyrotechnics, I had written glowingly of his “unique and important musical voice,” and I would stick with that based on subsequent hearings. He has since embarked on too many exciting projects to name, with a highlight being his launch of a major Schubert cycle at the Wigmore Hall in London starting in October 2019. I would love to have heard this, but will just hope for more on “this side of the pond.” For the 2020-2021 season Mr. Piemontesi was engaged as artist-in-residence at the Orchestre de la Suisse Romande in Geneva.

Sara Daneshpour impressed this reviewer for the first time at age 21 in 2008, sharing “musical gifts that are simply undeniable.” She had already made her mark in numerous competitions, but since then continued to shine, including as the 3rd prizewinner of the 2017 Arthur Rubinstein International Piano Competition.  She has been featured in prominent halls and nationwide on 160 public radio stations, including WGBH in Boston. She recently played Rachmaninoff’s Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini with the Alexandria Symphony (February of 2022), and one can only hope there were recordings made of it.

Spencer Myer struck this listener immediately in 2009 with his Handel, Copland, and Janáček,  and it hardly required an oracle to call him “an artist to watch” (though naturally I did) with his already substantial credentials including a debut CD on Harmonia Mundi USA. Since then, he has performed extensively, notably with cellist Brian Thornton, released four recordings on the Steinway & Sons label, and performed with orchestras too numerous to name. This spring (2022) he was appointed Associate Professor of Piano at Indiana University’s Jacobs School of Music.

Nataliya Medvedovskaya has flourished musically since appearing in 2011 in a program of contemporary works at Bargemusic, where “it was clear that the pianist herself felt complete commitment to each one, playing all with thoughtful involvement, projection, and polish.” Her own ballet music was just one of many compositions, and not surprisingly she has kept composing along with performing. A year ago shared her remarkable new composition, her Barcarolle for flute, harp, violin, viola and cello, which one can experience on YouTube.

One of the great pleasures of reviewing came with being assigned to Egyptian-American pianist Wael Farouk (2012), whom I described as “something of a star already, with a career that has included … the Egyptian premieres of Rachmaninoff Concerto No. 3, Brahms Piano Concerto No. 2, and Prokofiev Concertos Nos. 1, 2, and 3.”  In the spring of 2021, Dr. Farouk was one of the stalwarts performing right through the pandemic, and he performed Rachmaninoff’s concerti Nos. 1, 2, and 3 in a single evening with the New Philharmonic Orchestra under conductor Kirk Muspratt, a concert which the Chicago Tribune music critic described as a “history-making concert.” Upcoming performances include a Bach triple concerto performance in NYC (Miller Theatre) December 8 with Awadagin Pratt and Simone Dinnerstein. (Dr. Farouk is now on the faculties of Manhattan School of Music and Roosevelt University.)

On a sad note, it should be mentioned that my list of review subjects – rather the piano world – has suffered substantial losses with the passings of Natalia Strelchenko in 2015 and Lloyd Arriola in 2016. Ms. Strelchenko, gifted London-based pianist, had come to the US to conquer the colossal challenge of playing all of Liszt’s Transcendental Etudes in a row at Weill Hall in 2007 – as half of a recital (with various Norwegian works on the other half).  Those owning her CD of the Liszt Etudes may be assured, in this day of extreme editing technology,  that she navigated the same, live in concert, in a nearly Olympic musical feat. Her passing was a tragic one, but her music lives.

The conductor/pianist Lloyd Arriola,  whom I reviewed in 2011 and 2015 was not just a terrific pianist but also a huge force in NY musical life. It seems appropriate that the last time I heard him was in his “Leonard Bernstein Remembered” extravaganza for which he had served as “producer, collaborative pianist, and occasional vocal complement to twenty accomplished singers in selections from Bernstein’s operettas, musicals, and other vocal works.” Mr. Arriola had a passion and exuberance in sharing music that reminded one very much of giants such as Bernstein. With brilliance not just in his pianism but in his communication about music (exhibited in some of the most appealing program notes I’ve ever read), he would have continued to boost NY musical life tremendously, had he lived.

Now to return to the living – which is what many of us musicians feel we are trying to do each day now – I’ll return to the impetus for this retrospective, Javor Bračić, whom I reviewed in his debut solo recital in 2013 and in a subsequent chamber concert. My rediscovery began when I happened to stumble via the Internet last week on an exquisite performance that Mr. Bračić had given of  Study No. 1 (1754) by Croatian composer Luka Sorkočević, and I later learned that Mr. Bračić was in the midst of all-Croatian recitals that same week. One was at LeFrak Concert Hall at Queens College, which the college streamed and has posted, and one not very highly publicized one was at the 92nd Street Y where I was fortunate to be present last Friday. Talk about hidden gems (something New Yorkers seem great at finding), an eager crowd listened in the Warburg Lounge (in conjunction with the Himan Brown program), simply devouring Mr. Bračić’s combination of off-the-cuff lecture and high-level pianism (not an easy combination, as anyone who has tried it will attest). He played and spoke about a tantalizing array of short works by Luka Sorkočević, Ferdo Livadić, Dora  Pejačević, Božidar Kunc, Boris Papandopulo, and Ivo Josipović, all fascinating discoveries and mostly new even to this reviewer, a denizen of libraries and archives. As individual audience members approached Mr. Bračić afterwards bursting with enthusiasm (many of them students from his lectures there), he listened with genuine interest, making them feel like the active participants that listeners should be.  One can only hope that the larger series this pianist created, “The Art of Listening,” will resume in full force soon, as his approach is exactly what the classical music world needs.

Well, there is not time or room for more than this random handful of “alums” – and random it is, be assured – but there will be more to come from time to time. You’ll simply have to check back!

Heather Sorenson, Composer/Conductor

Joseph M. Martin, Composer/Conductor

Sarah Whittemore, Soloist; Sue Martin, Soloist; Layke Jones, Soloist

Distinguished Concerts Singers International

David Geffen Hall, Lincoln Center, New York, NY

November 20, 2022

I must admit I approached this concert with trepidation, because when it comes to holiday music, I’m a bit of a Scrooge.  So it is with surprise and delight that I found this to be a thoroughly enjoyable way to spend a chilly Sunday afternoon in New York. 

The program was divided evenly between two composer/conductors, featuring their original choral compositions and their arrangements of the most beloved Christmas carols.  The chorus, comprised of a consortium of choral groups from around the U.S. and beyond, were a well-prepared, balanced, and committed ensemble.  Heather Sorenson, whose pieces formed the first half of this program, conducted with utter clarity and precision throughout a cycle of nine contemporary liturgical works.  The current trend in this branch of the musical world freely borrows from an array of sources – Renaissance music, traditional Celtic folk tunes, Disney-style ballads – all cleverly and attractively arranged.  I was especially taken by Who’s the Little Baby? delivered with gospel-flavored gusto by the excellent Sarah Whittemore. Though I cringed at the thought of a carol inspired by the ubiquitous Canon in D, A Pachelbel Noel was in fact a creative melding of two beautiful melodies, a brilliant and moving hybrid.

I am familiar with the work of Joseph M. Martin, having reviewed him in a previous issue of New York Concert Review, and I am an unabashed fan.  He has a firm grasp of a variety of compositional styles, yet he infuses them with his own personal touch and wit, Tidings of Joy, his suite in ten parts, incorporates the best of our traditional Christmas fare (I Saw Three Kings, Joy To the World, The First Noel) into a joyful tribute that transcends this holiday season.  God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen is transformed into a sea shanty, complete with bouncing bongos, and Joy To the World, unbelievably, is pure vaudeville in his rendering. Mr. Martin’s podium demeanor is focused and motivating. 

There was an unmistakable patina of professionalism over the whole endeavor, from chorus to soloists to instrumental ensemble.  In addition to the previously mentioned Sarah Whittemore, kudos must go to Sue Martin and Layke Jones for their sensitive contributions in Mr. Martin’s half of the program, and to Brad Nix,  a wonderful pianist who is a frequent collaborator with Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY). Since this concert took place at the newly renovated Geffen Hall, any review within six months of its opening cannot avoid an appraisal of its acoustics.  I was seated in row F, fairly close to the stage, and the sound there was a mixed bag.  The small chamber ensemble, of impeccable quality, came across with clarity and richness (I’m not sure they were all credited in the program).  However, the chorus, while audible, could have benefited from more definition and projection, especially in the first half.  This is to be expected, as the kinks in this new environment are eventually worked out.  In the meantime, DCINY continues to be an important part of the musical life of New York City.

Lynn Spurgat, soprano; Jason Wirth, piano

Zankel Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

November 15, 2022

The soprano Lynn Spurgat is a storyteller, and lest we forget that singing is essentially storytelling, she reminded us of that in the most charming and affecting way in her recent recital at Zankel Hall.  Her collaborator, the gifted pianist Jason Wirth, created landscapes of color and dynamics to bring their interpretations to vivid life.

Perhaps this is not fair, but I feel that the program would have been near perfect if the opener, Mendelssohn’s concert aria Infelice, had been jettisoned in favor of something less weighty and imposing, something, in fact, more Mendelssohnian.  The back story for this work is fascinating, but the aria itself is not distinguished enough to merit its inclusion.  I give Ms. Spurgat credit for having the guts to start off firing on all cylinders.  However, it was only after this that her true talents as a singer became apparent.

Francis Poulenc’s monologue for soprano and orchestra, La Dame de Monte Carlo, was written for Denise Duval, Poulenc’s muse in the final years of his life.  By reputation, she was a superb singing actress.  In her own rendering, Ms. Spurgat, alternately comic and tragic, gave a rich account of this very special work.  Though she stopped once because of a memory slip, no one, least of all me, seemed to care.  Her voice, now relaxed and expansive, had a beautiful spin to it in the upper register, and her low notes were expressive and secure.  She has a big sound that can fill a room easily, without having to push.  This was a witty, nuanced performance from both soprano and pianist.

It was a treat to hear the Brahms Zigeunerlieder again, in an impassioned, strongly rhythmic reading that built steadily from its first song to the last, an uninhibited outpouring of ardent love, with Ms. Spurgat’s voice off the leash and in full bloom.

I’ll take a moment here to mention the excellent program notes, which managed to provide both introductory information for the uninitiated and esoterica for the seasoned concertgoer.  Speaking of esoterica, am I the only one who didn’t know that the celebrated writer Anais Nin was the daughter of the composer Joaquin Nin, the Cuban expatriate who was a contemporary of Granados and Albeniz?  In a brilliant stroke of programming, Ms. Spurgat launched the second half of her recital with the Diez Villancicos de Noel, a cycle of Christmas carols from diverse regions of Spain.  Each one was a gem, a microcosm of the rhythms and folk song traditions of those provinces, Mr. Wirth shone here in his voicing and sensitive pedaling, and the soprano held the audience in rapt attention with her melismatic, earthy singing of Jesus de Nazareth, the penultimate piece of this work.

The selection of Kurt Weill songs that brought this evening to a close confirmed for me his status as one of the great theater composers of the 20th century.  Here was a perfect meeting of artist and songwriter.  Ms. Spurgat is adept at conveying the quicksilver changes of mood and the pathos just below the surface of Weill’s creations.  Actors like to say that comedy is harder than tragedy, but what is harder than both is the juxtaposition of the two, and Ms. Spurgat excels at this. 

The enthusiastic audience demanded two encores, and Ms. Spurgat generously complied.  Once again, I can’t stress enough the contributions of Jason Wirth, one of the finest collaborative pianists I have heard, and a rock-solid support and inspiration for Lynn Spurgat.  Finally, compliments also to Laura Lutzke, the excellent violinist in the Mendelssohn concert aria.

Lynn Spurgat’s warm presence and talent for connecting with her audience made this evening a success.  My admiration for Poulenc and Weill was renewed and I discovered Joaquin Nin, all through her committed performances of their compositions.  Who could ask for anything more?

Jason Tramm, conductor

Gauen Kim, cello soloist

David Winkler, Executive Director

Broadway Church, New York, NY

November 4, 2022

The Long Island Concert Orchestra (LICO), under the baton of conductor Jason Tramm, brought a highly enjoyable program to the Broadway Church in New York City on November 4th – two iconic works, the Tchaikovsky Variations on a Rococo Theme, Op. 33, with cellist Gauen Kim, Mozart’s  Symphony No. 35 in D major, K. 385 “Haffner,” and the  US premiere of  Mannheim Preludes, by composer and Executive Director of Chamber Players International, David Winkler. 

Mr. Winkler welcomed the audience and spoke about his Mannheim Preludes. This 2016 work, commissioned by the Karpfälsiches Kammerorchester of Mannheim, is written in the style of the Italian Overture (three sections: fast-slow-fast, played as single continuous whole). Mr. Winkler took a tense thematic motif and “passed” it around the ensemble throughout.  While one sensed the tension, it was not always rendered convincingly. Some attacks were tentative, and the ensemble was not always razor-sharp. One is generally reluctant to make assumptions, but perhaps there was not enough time for extra rehearsals. These issues notwithstanding, it is an effective work, and conductor Jason Tramm invested boundless energy and commitment to bring out the best in the orchestra.  The appreciative audience gave Mr. Winkler warm applause.

Cellist Gauen Kim took the stage for the Tchaikovsky Variations on a Rococo Theme. I’m not sure if Ms. Kim was a last-minute substitute, as the promotion materials listed Eunae Jin as the cello soloist. There was also no talk about the work (or any program notes), which was a bit disappointing, considering the interesting history of how the work’s dedicatee Wilhelm Fitzenhagen, played a bit “fast and loose” with Tchaikovsky’s original conception. As they say, you can look it up, but for a start the Variations on a Rococo Theme employs a theme that is not actually Rococo, but is an original theme in the Rococo style.

There is a certain insouciance required from a soloist to capture this work’s spirit, as too much “seriousness” ruins the playfulness and humor that abounds throughout.  It’s not enough however, to just swagger, one must also negotiate the considerable technical demands. Ms. Kim fit the bill perfectly. Her tone was warm and rich, her bow work excellent, and her intonation overall quite true.  Her rapid passage work was clearly articulated, and the humor was projected with an easy touch that never sounded affected.  Ms. Kim is an elegant player!

Maestro Tramm was an ideal collaborator, keeping the orchestra “in line” while sensitive to the soloist. The one or two very brief moments when the orchestra was obscuring Ms. Kim were quickly addressed.  The call-and-reply moments were charming. All of those ensemble concerns that I felt during the Winkler had disappeared. The audience gave Ms. Kim a well-deserved standing ovation.

The evening concluded after intermission with Mozart’s  Symphony No. 35 in D major, K. 385 “Haffner.” This masterpiece must be considered one of the finest of Mozart’s forty-one symphonies, and Maestro Tramm’s reading served it well. It reminded me of my last hearing of him conducting a Mozart symphony, in that he let the music speak without resorting to any needless “originality.” His an intelligent, respectful approach – after all, Mozart needs no one’s “help.”  It proved to be one of the most enjoyable twenty minutes of music that this often jaded listener has experienced in a very long time.  At one point, a violist broke into a huge grin as he was playing, which really touched me, as this exemplified what music should be, pure joy.

The opening Allegro con spirito was ebullient, with the “fire” that Mozart indicated. The woodwinds were the stars of the lovely Andante. The clever Menuetto was a musical tug-o-war between the tonic and dominant. The scintillating Presto brought the audience to their feet in an extended standing ovation.  Bravo!

The Long Island Concert Orchestra returns to the Good Shepherd Church for a program in the “Great Artist Series” on November 30. 2022.

James Greening-Valenzuela, manager

Gretchen Greenfield, artistic consultant

Eric Malson, pianist

Scorca Recital Hall, Opera America National Opera Center, New York, NY

October 20, 2022

Opera is the only classical music genre that is a growing business in America. Therefore, there will always be a need for young singers trained in its demands both vocal and dramatic. James Greening-Valenzuela, a noted concert violinist with extensive vocal coaching experience, has turned his attention to maintaining a stable of such artists, at all skill levels from “emerging” to “professional,” as the manager of Vocal Artists Management Service (VAMS).

To celebrate the fourteenth anniversary of VAMS, a generous showcase concert was given at the National Opera Center. Once upon a time, such showcases served to show off one’s roster to a cohort of visiting opera and other vocal presenters. I’m not sure that was the case on Thursday, since I didn’t see any personnel fitting the bill in the small audience. Nevertheless, there were many small, and a few large, standout moments in the long program.

Remember, there is nothing quite so subjective as the way a human voice is received by other human beings. The following report is based solely on my response to this particular moment in time. Also remember, no instrument is quite so fickle as the voice, which resides within the body, and is subject to all its whims.

(Full disclosure: Mr. Greening-Valenzuela and I shared the same artist-manager for a period of years, some years ago. My review is objective, as far as a matter of opinion can be.)

The evening was partitioned into “Early Music,” “Opera Arias,” and “Verdi and Puccini Opera Scenes,” with the interesting additional “Original Songs” (a pop category featuring a classically trained singer/songwriter) fitted in just before intermission.

To say that “war horses” dominated the concert would be putting it mildly, with the exception of the aria New York Lights from William Bolcom’s A View from the Bridge (not by Samuel Barber, as erroneously printed in the program). This was given a poignant rendition, one of the evening’s best, by tenor Michael González, one of the emerging artists. He was less successful, though passionate, in Donizetti’s Una furtiva lagrima (L’Elisir d’amore). I predict he will go far, as there is always a shortage of good tenors.

Another very good tenor, with more professional experience, was Pedro Carreras, Jr., whose Dein ist mein ganzes Herz (Lehár, Das Land des lächelns) was spun out with ease and idiomatic style. However, he seemed overtaxed in the verismo style required for the famous Vesti la giubba (Leoncavallo, Pagliacci). True, the tenor voice is the one that takes the longest to mature in the performer’s body, sometimes as late as age thirty-five. Knowing how to select repertoire that is suitable to one’s voice type and ability is absolutely crucial to vocal success and longevity.

During the opera scenes portion, Kate Kyunghee Kim, soprano, and Sang Bum Cho, tenor, were beautifully trained as to their voices in their Brindisi and Parigi, o cara (Verdi, La Traviata), but lacking as to appropriate dramatic content, at least to this listener. Mr. Cho lacked the articulative “snap” that makes the phrases of the drinking song dance. May I remind the reader how very difficult it is to extract material like this from its context and present it in recital/concert form. However, one needs to be able to make a complete impression in auditions—and opera stars used to do it successfully on talk shows (now there’s a memory!). Ms. Kim has a very successful oratorio career, and Mr. Cho sings oratorio and opera.

The famous Act II duet between Violetta and Germont (also La Traviata) received a thoroughly masterful characterization from baritone Tom Sitzler, who sang this unlikeable character with mature and beautiful sonority. His partner, soprano Virginie Besson (emerging artist), had a wonderful dramatic feeling, but hers was the wrong voice type for the role. Mr. Sitzler has extensive opera experience—I think I would enjoy his Golaud (Debussy, Pelléas et Mélisande).

The duet from Puccini’s Suor Angelica, sung by Alexandria Crichlow, soprano and Caroline Tye, mezzo-soprano, was sizzling hot. Both voices were very nice, and the dramatic portrayal was successful. Ms. Crichlow, very affecting as the betrayed out-of-wedlock mother, had only one flaw- mushy diction. Clear diction is possible in opera! This concert was in a tiny recital hall, and more forward vocal placement and pronunciation would help her go even farther. Caroline Tye was fierce as the lying aunt, but I found her sonority overly-darkened, in a somewhat forced, artificial way. The extensive experience of these two artists was truly evident.

The evening’s finale, a duet excerpt, the jail visit, from Act III of Puccini’s Tosca, had good characterization from both Stacey Stofferahn, soprano, and Steven Andrew Murray, tenor. This material can easily tip over into shouting, but each artist produced detailed shadings and lyrical nuances, without forgetting to rise to the heroic heights required.

In the early-music section, the impressive countertenor Andrew Egbuchiem had a lovely voice, he was paired with emerging artist Katie Surine, soprano. Though each of them has experience in the older repertoire, they managed to seem somewhat bland in arias from Vivaldi’s Gloria, Handel’s Rodelinda, and Purcell’s Pausanias. I realize they were being accompanied by a piano, but I didn’t hear any of the vocal practices common to specialists in this repertoire, especially awareness of and enjoyment of chains of dissonances. Countertenors are a growth industry, so to speak, even though they didn’t exist in the Baroque era. Fortunately, we no longer sanction a certain mutilation, so there are no more castrati. The countertenor is a compromise, one which is accepted when the voice is as subtle as Mr. Egbuchiem’s.

Allow me to pause here and praise the evening’s tireless and excellent collaborative pianist, Eric Malson. Orchestral reductions are a thankless job- they are so unidiomatic. Mr. Malson was unflappable and completely supportive.

Two more artists sang on the arias section: mezzo-soprano Roselin Osser, in arias from Meyerbeer’s Les Huguenots and Mozart’s Le Nozze di Figaro. The adolescent angst of Cherubino was not fully characterized, though I enjoyed her flair in the Meyerbeer. Soprano Lisa Bryce sang the treacherous Ave Maria from Verdi’s Otello, with very dark vowels. What is going on with voice teaching nowadays? It seems so many young singers are over-darkening, trying to produce something rather than allowing their voices to be revealed through patient cultivation.

Also included was one artist who has switched genres, from classical to popular. The one-named Mahaley (formerly known as Rachel Eve Holmes) sang portions of four of her own original songs. Her microphone technique was shaky; she often turned back to the piano and the sound would become very soft. I suggest she work with experienced songwriters/producers to shape some of her material, which shows promise, into more “hit-ready” songs.  Good luck!

Overall, it was a very fulfilling evening. These young artists are fortunate to have a nurturing artist-management team like VAMS.

Irina Moreland, Piano

Guest Artist Halida Dinova, Piano
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
October 16, 2022

I often wonder why more pianists (and perhaps audiences) don’t gravitate to French piano music. It does require some specialized equipment: knowledge of how to produce infinite gradations and blends of tonal colors, often at the softest dynamic levels, precision in score-reading, and a certain temperament, one that doesn’t intrude upon the music, but allows it to speak for itself. Portions of these two qualities were found in abundance in this brief matinee on Sunday.

Pianist Irina Moreland, a double-doctorate and professor of piano in Colorado, decided to reunite with her advanced-student days friend, the equally accomplished Cleveland-based Halida Dinova for an afternoon of mainly French music, mostly Debussy with one Ravel showpiece. The pairing proved a vivid study in contrasts: Ms. Moreland being more the “wild” and Ms. Dinova the “controlled.”

Although Ms. Moreland seemed to be battling nerves, with numerous crucial memory lapses and imprecision (or misreading?), she gave a veritable master class in how to continue despite these things, and – what I was delighted to note – the essential character of each of her pieces emerged vividly.

Ms. Moreland began with four of the five scheduled Debussy Preludes from Book Two. The first three were the misty and surprisingly polytonal Brouillards (Mists), La Puerta de Vino (that evocation of the gate through which wine deliveries were made to the Alhambra), which suited her personality very well, and Les Fées sont d’exquises danseuses (Fairies are exquisite dancers), inspired by a bookplate by Arthur Rackham. Ms. Moreland really made those fairies seem airborne! The last was Feux d’Artifice (Fireworks), a Bastille Day reverie. Numerous dynamics were either reversed or ignored, nevertheless each atmosphere succeeded. The fifth Prelude would have been General Lavine-eccentric, which I thought would have also suited her temperament.

Halida Dinova then took the stage for two Debussy Preludes from Book One: La Cathédrale engloutie (The Engulfed Cathedral), from the Breton legend of the sunken city of Ys that rises only once every one hundred years then sinks back—she understood this piece totally, though I wished for more genuine pp dynamics (from both pianists, actually). Then she “tarantella-ed” her way through Les Collines d’Anacapri, an Italy replete with sun and folksong.

Ms. Moreland returned with what I found to be the only miscalculation of the afternoon: Ravel’s sarcastic, biting showpiece Alborada del gracioso. The alborada (French: aubade; English “morning song”) was traditionally sung outside the window of the illicit lovers’ bedroom just before the break of day, so the man could “self-defenestrate” and avoid being caught. Of course, Ravel has to make the whole scenario a satire, the warning sung by a clown. The musical text, as played by Ms. Moreland, simply had too many errors to be adjudicated fairly, although I will say, her flair for character redeemed it, and I’m sure many in the audience had no idea. Great glissandi, by the way!—they’re murder.

Then it was Ms. Dinova’s turn, with the gorgeous Reflets dans l’eau from the first series of Images. Despite a few odd (original) pedaling choices, she found beautiful blends suggestive of the Nymphéas (Water-lilies) by Monet in Paris’ Musée de l’Orangerie.

Ms. Moreland then returned with what I found to be a jarring shift in tone: a concert jota titled ¡Viva Navarra! by Joaquín Larregla (1865-1945). I don’t know if nerves got the better of her, but she never lost the thread of fiery passion that such a piece needs, and there were many sparkling moments of rapid treble filigree.

The two then joined forces to conclude the recital with a four-hand transcription of Khachaturian’s ubiquitous war-horse, the Sabre Dance from his ballet Gayane. It was a riot of explosive energy, as it should be, and the two of them did something I really like: a true encore, that is, after the ovation they played it again, with even more energy.

Perhaps, rather than the last two pieces, I might have liked a four-hand French selection by either Debussy or Ravel, there are plenty available and it would have preserved the theme. However, an afternoon of sharing music with each other, and with their many friends and fans, ultimately succeeded in conveying the joy of music.

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

October 11, 2022

Founded in 1965, the prestigious arts organization, Pro Musicis, is a Paris and New York based non-profit which stresses internationalism and diversity. Their mission, as stated in the printed program, is to “awaken the human spirit,” and their artists are chosen for both their “high level of performance and their passion for social outreach.

Tonight’s concert featured two singers and two pianists, all multi-national and multi-lingual. Mezzo-soprano Solange  Merdinian in (who won a 2019 Pro Musicis International Award) is an Armenian-Argentinian-American; soprano Laetitia Grimaldi (who won a Pro Musicis International Award in 2017) was born in France and grew up in Lisbon and London; pianist Ammeil Bushakevitz (who also won a Pro Musicis International Award in 2017)  was born in Jerusalem, raised in South Africa, and studied in Leipzig and Paris; and pianist Ciro Fodere is from Uruguay and now lives in the United States.  The performers’ multi-national backgrounds led to a most interesting and unusual selection of music.

This program of mostly unfamiliar music was bookended by two very familiar vocal duets- the Flower Duet from Lakmé, by Léo Delibes, and the Barcarolle from Les Contes d’Hoffmann, by Jacques Offenbach.  As the two women launched into the Flower Duet, I was immediately struck by how well the two voices blended and how perfectly in synch they were in terms of both dynamics and tempo.  Without looking at each other they executed the small ritards and diminuendos as if with one voice.  Their voices are well matched in terms of size and timbre, Ms. Merdinian’s strong mezzo balancing Ms. Grimaldi’s higher but equally rich soprano.  I thought they must have been singing together for years.  Not so!  I found out later that, although they were good friends, having once lived in New York at the same time, and having long nursed a desire to collaborate, this wish was unrealized until October 10, 2022, the very day before this concert!  Here is the story: Ms. Grimaldi now lives in Paris and Ms. Merdinian in Miami.  Plans were made to meet in New York City several days before this concert to rehearse.  However, Ms. Grimaldi’s air travel plans went awry, as happens so often these days, and it wasn’t until noon on October 10, one day before the concert that her plane touched down at Kennedy Airport.  They met at a studio in Manhattan and rehearsed that afternoon.  On the afternoon of the day of the concert, just a few hours before their performance, they had their dress rehearsal in the hall.  Forget about jet lag! Forget about resting the voice before a big performance!  The show must go on!

After a soothingly lovely performance of the Flower Duet, Ms. Merdinian left the stage, and Ms. Grimaldi and Mr. Bushakevitz performed three songs by Rachmaninoff: Spring Waters, How Peaceful It Is Here, and What Happiness.  Ms. Grimaldi’s exciting voice projects well throughout her registers.  In the songs of Rachmaninoff the piano writing is often virtuosic. The composer is considered to have been one of the greatest pianists of all time.  A smaller voice might have been overpowered, but Ms. Grimaldi held her own as the brilliant Mr. Bushakevitz flew through the difficult passages with panache.  There was one problem, however.  As is customary, the texts of the songs were printed in the program.  This is of the greatest importance because, without this aid, the listener doesn’t know what the song is saying; the title gives only a general idea.  But it was too dark to comfortably read in the audience area of Weill Recital Hall! This happens frequently in song recitals, and it implies a lack of appreciation for the poetry.  Singers spend a great deal of time thinking about and analyzing texts and then working to reflect their subtleties with voice and gesture.  I would recommend that the performers, who put in all this work, make a point of letting the house know that the lights should be bright enough for the texts to be read with ease.  For, although Ms. Grimaldi sang with commitment and passion, there were, no doubt, subtleties in her delivery which I, who speak no Russian, could not perceive. 

For the next set, Ms. Merdinian, accompanied by the always excellent Mr. Fodere, sang four Armenian songs: The Rose, by Romanos Melikyan, (1883-1935), The Sad Little Girl, and My Sweet Harp, by Khachatur Avedisian, (1926-1996) and Song of Merriment, by Aram Khachaturian (1903-1978).  These folk-like songs, alternately sad and joyous, are obviously dear to Ms. Merdinian’s heart, and her compelling and plangent voice was a perfect vehicle for them.

The balance of the first half of the program was given over to music by women.  Ms. Grimaldi and Mr. Bushakevitz returned to the stage and gave a fine performance of Clara Schumann’s Lorelei.  Then Ms. Grimaldi lent her lustrous soprano to Songe (Dream) by the little-known French Composer, Mélanie Bonis, commonly known as Mel Bonis. To end the set, stormy seas were evoked in After the Squall, by the English composer Ethel Smyth (1858-1944).

The concert’s first half concluded with both singers, accompanied by Mr. Bushakevitz, performing Titania’s Lullaby from A Midsummer Night’s Dream, by the Argentinian composer Lucia Caruso (b.1980).  This duet was composed for a concert in Stratford-upon-Avon honoring the 400^th anniversary of Shakespeare’s death.  It is an attractive tonal piece with a few well-placed dissonances.  The fine diction of the two women was gratifying as they exhorted spotted snakes, newts, spiders, beetles and worms to “come not near our fairy queen.” 

Ms. Merdinian and Mr. Fodere began the second half with short songs by six composers: the Spaniard, Fernando Obradors (1897-1945), the Argentinians Carlos Guastavino (1912-2000), Alberto Ginastera (1916-1983), Carlos López Buchardo (1881-1948), Pablo Ziegler (b.1944) and finally, another Spaniard, Jerónimo Giménez (1854-1923).  A typically Spanish mood prevailed with frequent imitations of guitars in the piano part and sultry vocalizing and seductive gestures by the singer.  The last song of the set, La Tarantula, by Giménez, brought down the house as Ms. Merdinian ended it on a high note with her hands above her head.  Her childhood in Argentina was not wasted!

Neither was Ms. Grimaldi’s Lisbon upbringing, as was evidenced in the next set.  She was accompanied, as before by Mr. Bushakevitz in Brazil’s Heitor Villa-Lobos’s Melodia Sentimental, from Florets do Amasonas, Villa-Lobos’s foray into movie music.  Two works by Obradores followed and then, in a delightful twist, we heard the French composer Delibes’s take on Spanish music in Les Filles de Cadix.

 The well-loved Barcarolle from Offenbach’s Les Contes d’Hoffmann gently completed the program.  The happy audience, with loud applause and cries of bravo, leapt to its feet and was then rewarded with Vidila, a duet by Carlos López Buchardo.