Philippe Quint and Stephanie Zyzak, violins;

Maurycy Banaszek and Paul Laraia, violas;

Adrian Daurov and Zlatomir Fung, celli;

Bohemian Hall at Bohemian National Hall, New York, NY

December 7, 2022

An unforgettable concert, combining six outstanding musicians in sextets of Tchaikovsky and Dvořák, took place this past Wednesday at Bohemian National Hall, part of the Aspect Chamber Music Series. As the founding Director of Aspect Music, Irina Knaster graciously thanked the sizeable crowd for coming, she remarked that, though there were many events to attend that night in New York, “you made the right choice” – she turned out to be exactly right.

Stepping into the Bohemian National Hall building on East 73rd Street is a bit like entering the home of nobility from some time in the 1890s, and thus it seemed a particularly appropriate place for the Aspect Chamber Music Series to present this week’s offering of two sextets from that era, the Dvořák Op. 48 (composed mostly in 1878) and the Tchaikovsky Op. 70, subtitled Souvenir de Florence (composed mostly in 1890). The hall’s Bohemian history suited the music of the two composers who blended a Germanic tradition with the music of more Slavic/Slavonic folk influence (as one common theme from the “Crossing Parallels” title of the evening). The feeling throughout was that of an intimate house concert, an unusually great one, and despite a full hall of well over 100 people, one could hear the proverbial pin drop.

All six performers listed credentials with serious firepower. Names that jumped out first included stellar first violinist Philippe Quint (whose multiple Grammy-nomination discography speaks for itself) and first cellist Zlatomir Fung, now known across the globe as the first American in four decades and the youngest musician ever to win First Prize at the International Tchaikovsky Competition Cello Division (2019). Violinist Stephanie Zyzak, violists Maurycy Banaszek and Paul Laraia, and cellist Adrian Daurov rounded out this illustrious group with impressive individual lists of prizes, principal positions, scholarships, festivals, and concerts. In the film world, they might be called an all-star cast.

Naturally, an all-star cast is not always what one wants in chamber music, as the players must be a team first and foremost; thankfully, here, they were. There have been performances of these works in which each player seemed to be vying for center stage, visually and aurally, and the effect especially in such complex writing is obnoxious, like a noisy conversation with too many speakers all at once. Sadly, some critics have thus called both works “busy” or “garrulous” – and the fact is that, because they are the bountiful outpourings of two miraculous melodists, both works rely on an ensemble’s ability to prioritize and know when and where to create a subsidiary texture, an issue too often overlooked. Also, large swaths within the works have to be kept to a lesser importance, lest the listener overdose on vicarious adrenaline.  (Perhaps, because of this profusion of material, the Tchaikovsky Souvenir has prospered for a century in string orchestra transcriptions, in which a conductor can more easily control the balance and shape.) Our evening’s artists, thankfully, met the challenges with resounding success.

In both the Dvořák and Tchaikovsky, the ensemble resembled a well-conducted orchestra or even a piano transcription in a way (by an expert pianist, that is), with a oneness of conception. While it did often seem as if the sextet by mutual agreement had determined Mr. Quint and Mr. Fung to be the leaders, their parts frequently prominent over subsidiary textures, that dominance was always inherent in the writing itself. These were performances of lucidity and proportion, with still ample opportunity ultimately for each player’s important lines to shine individually. This group went beyond being an all-star cast to be what one might call a “Dream Team.”

Highlights in the Dvořák were many but included (admittedly strangely) the beginning of the first movement’s development, where all was scaled down just perfectly before building back up – pianissimo but clear as a bell in each part. The Dumka was exceptional for its utterly natural flow in contrasting melodic outpourings, and again the phrasing and balance among players were sublime. The ensemble lit fiercely into the Furiant movement, with evident pleasure in its mellower trio section, and their last movement’s Stretta was an exuberant ride to the movement’s final Presto . Bravi tutti!

After an intermission, we heard a good prefatory twenty minutes about the music and life of Tchaikovsky from Ms. Knaster – comparable to what we’d heard about Dvořák at the opening, which I’d neglected to mention. At first, I had been a bit disappointed to learn that there were talks before each work, not mere introductory comments, but a twenty-minute-plus lecture about each piece and both composers’ lives. It seemed at first that the program notes by Stephen Johnson were enough – and, for a musician, the odds of learning something new about these very famous composers in a (presumably) layperson’s talk seemed slim; fortunately, I was proven wrong, and both talks were delivered with humor, some amusing visual aids, and several well-chosen anecdotes I had not recalled hearing before, with personal asides to lend a human touch to it all. Ms. Knaster drew the audience into these composers’ worlds, refreshingly and at times through the intriguing backdoors often ignored in fusty reference books. With such contextualizing talks as part of the series, it is no wonder that crowds are being drawn to this enriching experience. Aspect’s talks help audiences to know the composers – and the musicians help them to love the music.

Loving the music was easy in the Tchaikovsky Souvenir de Florence as played by our evening’s six musicians. It was launched with an Allegro con spirito that was hearty but not harsh, as it can be. The musicians built the energy to a perfectly synchronized stringendo and brilliant prestissimo which left the audience simply unable to restrain their applause. The Adagio cantabile movement next was striking for its chorale-like opening, played with minimal vibrato to set in relief its sensuous solo and duet lines to come. Though these operatic sections are naturally linked to Tchaikovsky’s Florence memories, the playing also reminded one that this sextet was written in years filled with the composer’s own ballet music – grace and momentum reigned.

The pacing was perfect, and the third movement brought the energy up a notch further. Incredibly rapid and amazingly synchronized saltando (bouncing) bowing was like a ballet in itself, and the energy was electric. Several times in this piece motives were passed down in such rapid succession from instrument to instrument that it was like hearing (and seeing) a musical chain of dominoes – riveting. The finale with its fugato writing built to an exciting and powerful finish, bringing everyone to their feet.

More about the Aspect Chamber Music Series, including upcoming events, can be found at their website: Aspect Music

Pepper Choplin, Mary McDonald, composers/conductors

Catherine Hamner, Vicki Hancock Wright, pianists; Heather Lake Bays, vocal soloist

Distinguished Concerts Orchestra; Distinguished Concerts Singers International

Carnegie Hall, Stern Auditorium, New York, NY

November 28, 2022             

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY), the reliable presenter of multi-choir extravaganzas, is now in full holiday swing with its most recent offerings by two of America’s most popular composers of faith-based choral music- Pepper Choplin and Mary McDonald. On this occasion, the choirs appeared to be entirely domestic, ranging from Connecticut to Texas, by way of Georgia, Pennsylvania, Florida, Virginia, North Carolina, Illinois, and Indiana.

Mr. Choplin opened the program with a bracing, transparent account of And the glory of the Lord from Handel’s Messiah. Accompanied only by the “DCINY String Quartet” and three woodwinds, the sound, both choral and instrumental, would have satisfied any hardcore historically informed performance enthusiast. Every point of imitation in the choral parts was clearly audible. It was erroneously listed in the program as following Mr. Choplin’s work, and I would have loved to do some sort of straw poll to find out what percentage of the audience was aware of that.

I, for one, would not wish my music to follow Handel’s, but Mr. Choplin did just that, with his choral Christmas worship service titled The Seven Noels (Songs to Light the World). He states that it was developed for use in church “to help people connect to the story and the characters of Christmas.” That it does, through crafty melding of old familiar tunes and new material by Mr. Choplin in what he calls a cantata. The First Nowell is the framing device used to introduce each section. O come, O come, Emmanuel, Silent Night (with audience participation),  and Adeste fidelis (O come all ye faithful) are but a few of the themes commingling. I don’t know if Mr. Choplin writes his own texts, but the line “Life is beautiful, life is sad” seemed a bit simplistic to me, as did the musical arrangements, which are lacking in complexity. One thing Mr. Choplin achieved on this occasion was an avoidance of the gigantism that has overwhelmed some of his previous appearances with DCINY. I really appreciated the sharp diction achieved by the choir, no small feat when one has limited rehearsal time in which to coordinate many disparate ensembles into a whole. They were accompanied by the same small ensemble, helmed by violinist Jorge Ávila, the only one whose name I knew—it really is a shame to omit the instrumentalist’s names from the program—I seem to say this every year. They were joined by Catherine Hamner on piano.

The intermissionless concert (just some quick stage rearranging) then progressed to Mary McDonald’s music, very similar in style to Choplin, with the Carnegie Hall premiere of her Festival of Christmas, another merging of traditional tunes with original material. Postponed for two years due to the pandemic, it finally was able to shed its light on the season. Ms. McDonald performed with what looked like the full Distinguished Concerts Orchestra (again uncredited), piano played by Vicki Hancock Wright, and vocal soloist Heather Lake Bays. Ms. McDonald’s work is ambitious—a true overture preceded the choral parts, announcing the medley aspect of the piece with a flurry of carols, sometimes just a phrase, but enough to suggest the whole. The larger choral and instrumental forces did result in a less precise choral diction than was present in the Choplin part of the program, although the choral tone itself was energetic and joyous at its best.

Once again, O Come Emmanuel made its appearance- it seems composers can’t get enough of its modal minor flavor. The French carol Patapan, the Sussex carol, I Saw Three Ships, the words to The Midnight Clear, but set to a new tune, and even Adolphe Adam’s chestnut O Holy Night appeared. Like with Mr. Choplin, The First Noel made its statement; one novel touch was a rhythmic setting of Go Tell It on the Mountain!, an African-American spiritual. Beethoven even managed to sneak in (why?), with a variation on his 9th Symphony finale: An die Freude. Vocal soloist Heather Lake Bays contributed beautifully to O Come Emmanuel and O Holy Night, with a clear bright soprano that sounded a little bit more pop than classical, and that was fine with me.

This evening, which did not overstay its welcome, brought pleasure to all-participants, audience, and yes, even this reviewer.

Justin Bischof, conductor

Alexandre Moutouzkine, piano; Eganam Segbefia, trumpet

Merkin Hall, Kaufman Center, New York, NY

November 30, 2022

On a cold and rainy evening at Merkin Hall, The Strings of Modus Operandi Orchestra offered an excellent program, with works from Dmitri Shostakovich, Richard Strauss, and rising star Jessie Montgomery (b. 1981). Those who braved the bad weather and early start time (and there were many, including a large contingent of very enthusiastic Manhattan School of Music students) were witness to masterful music-making in outstanding performances.

Before I get into the review proper, I must bring up (again!) the issue of program notes. The printed materials gave very generous space to the organization and the featured artists, but only a few lines about the Jessie Montgomery works and not a word about the Shostakovich or Richard Strauss works. The historical background of these works is key in the understanding of them, and, especially with Shostakovich, there are clear biographical connections. To omit any mention is at best negligent and at worst inexcusable.  Part of the concert experience is to educate – and yet another opportunity to do so is lost. Give brief summaries of the artists, with web addresses for further reading, and save some space for the composers and their works.

Conductor Justin Bischof took the stage and welcomed the audience. He spoke a bit about Jessie Montgomery (who had played in the Modus Operandi Orchestra) and how delighted he was to be offering two of her works, Starburst and Strum. Even those these works were not played consecutively, I’m going to discuss them together. These short works (approximately three and seven minutes respectively) are a welcome addition to any concert. There is witty interplay, driving rhythmic vitality, and just enough stridency to underscore the thematic material without ever losing a sense of tonality. After hearing these works, it is easy to see why Ms. Montgomery’s star is on the rise – she is a highly skilled composer that writes in an extremely accessible manner that is not derivative or self-conscious. Played with unabashed enthusiasm, it was a very enjoyable start to the evening.

Dmitri Shostakovich’s Chamber Symphony, Op. 110a followed Starburst. The Chamber Symphony is an arrangement of his Eighth String Quartet, Op 110, by Rudolf Barshai, one of the founders of the Borodin Quartet and long-time conductor of the Moscow Chamber Orchestra. Barshai wrote “When I finished the score, I showed it to him (Shostakovich). He liked it very much, and with his own sense of humor and exuberance, he shouted: ‘Well, that sounds better than the original. We will give the piece a new name: Chamber Symphony, Opus 110a.'”

Maestro Bischof mentioned a few common themes: The DSCH motif (consisting of the notes D, E-flat, C, B natural, or in German musical notation D, Es, C, H, standing for the composer’s initials in German transliteration: D. Sch.=Dmitri Schostakowitsch), and the three knocks on the door in the middle of the night from the KGB. One could add quotes from the “Dance of Death” theme from the Piano Trio No. 2, Symphonies 1 and 5, and the First Cello Concerto, amongst others. Professor Peter J. Rabinowitz has also suggested covert references to Richard Strauss’s Metamorphosen.

Maestro Bischof led a highly taut performance. The tension simmered, but never in the overt manner that some feel is necessary to “demonstrate the point,” i.e. “Here is the dance, here is the DSCH, etc.” The three knocks reverberated through the hall in such a way that even a listener without the benefit of knowing the context would have instantly sensed the terror. The appreciative audience recognized a truly superior performance, reacting with a long, loud, and extended standing ovation, the kind that one usually only experiences at the end of a program, not an unfinished first half.

Pianist Alexandre Moutoukine and trumpeter Eganam “Ego” Segbefia took the stage for the opening piece of the second half, Shostakovich’s Piano Concerto No.1, for Piano, String Orchestra, and Trumpet, Op. 35 (1933). Written three years before the infamous “Muddle Instead of Music” article in Pravda that easily could have ended not only his career but his entire existence (two prominent figures that defended Shostakovich, Isaac Babel and Vsevolod Meyerhold, were later shot in the purges), the Op. 35 is the work of a young man full of confidence and enjoying the adulation of fame, both at home and abroad. There is Shostakovich’s trademark sardonic wit (but without the bitter flavor that is in later works), with quotes from Beethoven’s Appassionata and Rage Over a Lost Penny making appearances. Moods change suddenly – one moment it is serious and the next it is “off to the races” in a frenzy. This concerto is a favorite of this listener, so I was eagerly anticipating the “ride.” It was all I hoped for.

Let’s talk about the soloists – first, Mr. Segbefia, as this reviewer has a definite interest in all things trumpet. I would have loved to have trumpet students hear Mr. Segbefia’s playing, as it was a virtual clinic in so many ways: crisp and clear articulation (none of that lazy de-guh de-guh double tonguing), tonal control in lyric passages without using the “schmaltzy” pseudo-vibrato tone that drives me to distraction, and how to project with mute without loss of intonation. I’d like to hear Mr. Segbefia play again – I suspect that the Arutiunian Concerto would be up his street.

Mr. Moutoukine is a true dynamo. He was “in it to win it” – there was no playing it safe or half-measures as he tore into the piano with almost maniacal energy. In between the blazing octaves dispatched with lightning speed, he also projected lyric sensitivity that was enchanting. I am usually not so interested in the visual aspect (and I despise histrionics), but in this case, it was almost as much fun to watch Mr. Moutoukine as it was to hear him. Both soloists were given standing ovations, with several callbacks to the stage.      

The final work of the evening was Richard Strauss’s Metamorphosen for 23 Solo Strings (1945). There has been extensive discussion about the “why” and “what” of this work that goes far beyond the scope of this review. What is not in dispute is that this is a masterpiece – Maestro Bischof called it “one of the most exquisite pieces ever written.” He also mentioned that five themes form the work. Two are from Beethoven – the third movement of the Fifth Symphony and the Funeral March of the Eroica Symphony.

This work is deceptively difficult. While there is nothing particularly demanding in the individual parts, it is still twenty-three different parts and any momentary lapses are not easily masked, not to mention the ensemble challenges (unity of intonation and balance, amongst others). It’s not enough to play the notes, the ensemble must be of one mind, not twenty-three minds. Maestro Bischof proved to be a leader to fulfill these demands, as the Modus Operandi strings held the audience spellbound for the full twenty-five minutes of this work. I was incredulous about this work following the Shostakovich, but I left convinced that it was an astute choice for ending the concert. One had a sense of the collective audience holding its breath as the final measures (quoting the first measures of the Funeral March) dissolved away into a pianissimo ending. (Strauss wrote the words IN MEMORIAM! in the score at this point.) The audience finally exhaled and rewarded the orchestra with another standing ovation. It was a superb ending to a memorable evening. Congratulations to all.

Alexander Hersh, Cello; Victor Asuncion, Piano

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall

New York, NY

November 30, 2022

It was an exciting assignment to review cellist Alexander Hersh, winner of the 2022 Pro Musicis International Award, as Pro Musicis has such an excellent track record with its winners; having now heard this winner’s recital in Weill Hall, I can say that this awardee is no exception. In a program entitled “Beyond Borders,” this young musician showed an openness and passion for all that he played, and, given the Pro Musicis mission to promote “visionary concert artists who awaken the human spirit wherever they perform,” he seems to be a fine choice.

He played a program of highly diverse composers – Claude Debussy, Paul Wiancko (b. 1982), Benjamin Britten, Robert Schumann, Fazil Say (b. 1970), and Giovanni Sollima (b.1962). Mr. Hersh’s artistic statement on the Carnegie website and the printed program said it all: “This program, entitled ‘Beyond Borders,’ traverses six distinct sound worlds with the cello as a guide. Invoking ancient instruments while breathing life into music of our time, the program probes sonic possibilities, both familiar and fantastical.”

Though Mr. Hersh, as the recent winner of Pro Musicis, tends to get “top billing,” one would be remiss not to give equal credit in all duos to the superb collaborative pianist, Victor Asuncion. It was Mr. Asuncion who played the first declamatory notes of the recital setting the tone for Debussy’s Cello Sonata in D minor. It was good to see the piano lid up on the full stick, as this was repertoire-wise a duo program (except for two contemporary solo cello works). As Mr. Hersh entered with his first big cello phrase, it was clear that the two players were well matched and quite attuned to each other. The duo captured Debussy’s shifting moods well – especially as it moved on through the Sérénade and the spirited finale.

Paul Wiancko’s Microsuite was the Pro Musicis commissioned work that all finalists were required to play, but Mr. Hersh’s performance here was the public World Premiere. As an introduction, the composer Mr. Wiancko writes, “It is exhilarating to discover music that unlocks something in us. As a young cellist, my first plunge into the rich darkness of Bach’s Fifth Suite for Solo Cello was deeply formative. I will also never forget the thrill of stepping into the worlds of Lutoslawski, Chick Corea, or Mahsa Vahdat for the first time. As I composed Microsuite, I channeled the thrill of these moments of discovery, and in the process enjoyed a renewed appreciation for the cello music that impacted me in my youth. I hope this little piece might serve as a reminder that there is always potential to gain a deeper understanding of ourselves simply by stumbling onto something new.” Some of the above influences could indeed be sensed, and, though this listener would probably need a second hearing of the piece to fully grasp it, Mr. Hersh’s enthusiasm for it was certainly infectious and went a long way in breaking any proverbial “ice.” He prefaced the piece by saying, “I consider myself Paul Wiancko’s greatest fan” and shared that he was absolutely “giddy” at the prospect of playing his work. He seems an ideal champion for this composer’s music, and the composer, who was present, took a bow afterwards to much applause.

Mr. Hersh had another tough nut to crack with Britten’s Cello Sonata in C, Op. 65, which closed the first half. This enigmatic piece is, as the cellist suggested “not easy listening” but even the neophyte listener could use his spoken descriptions as a guide to the five movements, from the Dialogo‘s “speech patterns,” to the almost comical variety of pizzicati in the Scherzo, to the bleak Elegia‘s hypnotic figures, to the energy of the Marcia movement (like the gait of someone “not particularly stable”), and finally to the Moto Perpetuo‘s demonic quality, “like a machine out of control.” All were realized expertly by this duo, right through to the dazzling octaves building to the rather “tacked on” sounding C major ending. This duo “sold” the piece.

While Mr. Hersh clearly has a mission to reach out to his audiences, that does not mean he does so at the expense of his own growth or exploration. In other words, there was no pandering. He chose a fair amount of repertoire that would be challenging even for the most experienced player to fathom, let alone to relay to experienced listeners, let alone to relay to the lay listener. The ability to project a conception was thus even more crucial than usual in this difficult repertoire. Thankfully, he did that extremely well throughout the evening,

After intermission, we heard a relatively tame version of the Fantasiestücke, Op. 73 by Robert Schumann (and sounding even tamer in the context of the rest of the program), and then two more contemporary selections, starting with Fazil Say’s Dört Şehir (Four Cities).

Turkish composer Fazil Say is something of a lightning rod for controversy, but his boldness in speaking up about his beliefs in the face of Turkish oppression goes hand in hand with the boldness of his music. Much of the intensity of Dört Şehir is attributed to its time of composition, 2012 when Mr. Say was facing a possible prison sentence. The third movement, Ankara, is filled with evocations of darkness and struggle and is almost unbearable to hear with its loud piano blows and extended techniques. The beauty of the trance-like opening movement, Sivas, lay in sharp contrast as did the jazz-infused final movement Bodrum. The second movement, Hopa, we are told is marked with something akin to “as fast as possible” – to which Mr. Hersh quipped “challenge accepted.” Accepted indeed! Much admiration goes to this duo for championing this deserving work.

The final work on the program was Giovanni Sollima’s Lamentatio (1998) for solo cello. The piece contains an encyclopedic range of extended techniques – plus chanting, wailing, and singing – as the cellist himself described it, “Gregorian chant meets Metallica.” It is not a piece for the shy or stodgy, but Mr. Hersh is neither of those. He took it on with gusto, as he did the entire program.

After rousing applause, he offered a piece by a musician he dubbed “everyone’s favorite encore composer” – Anton Webern (from his early cello-piano pieces of 1899). After some initial tittering, the audience appeared to enjoy this gently lyrical piece, showing that this cellist is already breaking down walls. It will be exciting to watch Mr. Hersh’s career.

Pro Musicis is to be congratulated once again. Incidentally, this concert marked the 100th Pro Musicis recital in Weill Hall, a great milestone to reach. Here’s to the next 100.

Long Island Concert Orchestra

Gianluca Marciano, Conductor

Ginevra Petrucci, Flute

Good Shepherd-Faith Presbyterian Church, New York, NY

November 30, 2022

Let us not be mistaken about two things: 1) All musical activity in the world does not take place on a small strip of land called Manhattan. 2) The amount of talent, dedication, fund raising, and hard work it takes to keep an endeavor such as the Long Island Concert Orchestra afloat is enormous. A relatively new ensemble (founded 2016), it has the advantage of being small, but has already begun carving out its own unique place in the area’s cultural scene. I could not see all the players from where I was sitting, but the instrumentation looked like six first violins, six-second violins, four violas, three cellos, and a double bass—or “three string quartets” with an extra cello and the bass.

Under the efficient but sensitive guidance of conductor Gianluca Marciano, they gave us a program of beautiful string works and a concerto. The historical time range for all four works was 1780-1960, yet a wide range of styles and colors was included. A subtitle for this concert might have been- works adapted from other works by the same composer (three out of four).

Samuel Barber was one of the composers who was not resentful of the phenomenal success of his Adagio for Strings (expanded with the addition of a fifth part for double bass), drawn from the String Quartet, Op. 11 (1936). It seems Barber knew its destiny, for he began the adaptation right away, while he toiled mightily revising and re-revising the Quartet for two years. As Barber declared, with gastrointestinal metaphor, to his cellist friend Orlando Cole: “I have vague quartettish rumblings in my innards…” (The letter continues in this vein, getting more explicit until Barber realizes and cuts it off.) Despite his self-conscious work ethic, he did not lack confidence: “I have just finished the slow movement of my quartet today—it is a knockout!” How right he was! The Adagio took on a life of its own—the orchestral version premiered on the radio in 1938, conducted by none other than Toscanini, and received a rave review from Olin Downes. It was recorded by Toscanini in 1942; the first work by an American composer that he conducted, broadcast, recorded, and took on tour to Latin America. Many filmgoers have heard the Adagio without being aware of who the composer is, and it has come to be “the choice” for occasions of great national mourning, such as FDR’s, Einstein’s, and JFK’s funerals. During WWII, scores of Barber’s music were even flown to Shostakovich (who also appears on this program) in Russia.

The Adagio worked its ineffable magic, speaking in a very personal way, directly to the heart, though it is a difficult (risky) way to open a program. My only wish was for there to have been a greater sense of “pull” between the notes, a reluctance to leave the previous note before going to the next—this isn’t a matter of tempo, but tension. That being said, large orchestras can go slower than small ones—this performance didn’t seem as far removed from its quartet original.

Next came a spirited rendition of C.P.E. Bach’s Flute Concerto in D minor. The work, a reconfiguration of a previous harpsichord concerto, seems to inhabit two worlds, as did the composer, the very Baroque texture and sound of the Allegro first movement, a sensitive Andante, and finally the Sturm und Drang (storm and stress, a term from literature) of the final Allegro molto. One might imagine Frederick the Great, C.P.E.’s employer and a virtuoso flutist in his own right, having heard the harpsichord concerto, saying “Here, here, Carl Philippchen, make something for me out of this, won’t you?” Ah yes, if only we had such “cultured tyrants” in our modern world, hobnobbing with the likes of Voltaire and the Bachs.

Ginevra Petrucci was the flute soloist. She played with great musicality, and lots of fire in the third movement. Maestro Marciano drew vivid, stylish contrasts from the group. I noticed a few things, none of which derailed her fine achievement: 1) The flute used in 1780 would have been transverse (held crosswise), but not a Boehm-system modern flute like the one she played, which was not developed until 1847. 2) I did miss the rustle of the harpsichord continuo underneath the string sound. 3) The orchestra and the soloist played certain appoggiaturas in the first movement’s main theme differently—perhaps this was a deliberate choice, but possibly it could have been worked out.

Here I would like to advise the group on two (not-so) small points: With such a reduced number of personnel, it would be very pleasing to have everyone’s names listed. And, as my regular readers know, I am obsessed with program notes. Even if it takes another sheet of paper folded in half inserted into your program, it is not “cool” not to have them. If you or one someone you know can’t confidently do them, hire someone. Please.

After a brief pause (the post-pandemic concert world loves these intermission-less concerts, as do I) the upper strings played the rest of the concert standing up, as do some string quartets these days. It is a shame for the cellists though, for they can’t do that. (Of course, the bass is normally played standing up.)

The work: an arrangement of Shostakovich’s searing Eighth String Quartet, Op. 110, made by his friend and colleague Rudolf Barshai, violist of the Borodin String Quartet that premiered so many of Shostakovich’s works. This expansion has come to be known as the Chamber Symphony, Op. 110a (as with the Barber, adding the double bass to the four-part writing). The music is one of his most explicit uses of ciphers, the first letter of his first name and the first three of his last spelled musically: D-S (Es, E Flat)-C-H (B), to form the obsessively recurring theme. The composer referred to it as the “secret sign, the impenetrable wall.” Also present: the melody that Jews were made to sing as they were forced to dig their own graves before being shot and bulldozed into them during WWII (previously used in his own Piano Trio No. 2), and the famous “three knocks” on the door at 3 AM by the KGB.

All this was really well done by the group. Perhaps the church acoustics softened a bit of the “bite” in the more pointed material, but the “three knocks” emerged with disquieting clarity. The entire mood was captured convincingly, and when it was over, the hallmark of a truly great performance, people were hesitant to break the spell with applause.

The final work was a gem that I had never heard live before, only on recordings: Janáček’s Idyll: Suite for String Orchestra. Here, the Slavonic mode emerged, with many gestures reminiscent of Dvořák’s works, without undue copying. Moods alternate in the six brief sections from elegiac (“dumky”) to folkloric. The concert truly built to this moment, and the ensemble work was beautiful. Interplay among violin, viola, and cello was gently but specifically brought out. The bassist held his own, though one could have wished for more of the lower sonorities—the original calls for five basses (and eight first and second violins, and five cellos). Bravi!

So please folks, explore the culture in your own communities, and, in this season of giving, here is a worthy cause.

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.