Athanasios Zervas, alto saxophone; Christopher Lowry, viola; Nathan Carterette, piano; Caio Diniz, cello; Kurt Nikkanen, violin; Maria Asteriadou, piano; Perla Fernández, violin; Mireille López, violin

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

October 10, 2022

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presented its annual concert dedicated to the music of Dinos Constantinides on October 10, 2022. It also was a memorial to Mr. Constantinides, who passed away on July 20, 2021, aged ninety-two. The featured performers were Athanasios Zervas, Christopher Lowry, Nathan Carterette, Caio Diniz, Kurt Nikkanen, Maria Asteriadou, Perla Fernández, and Mireille López.

Greek-born Dinos Constantinides was the head of Composition and Music Director of the Louisiana Sinfonietta at Louisiana State University. He had the title of Boyd Professor, the highest academic rank at LSU. Mr. Constantinides has composed over three hundred works, including six symphonies, two operas, and music for a wide variety of instruments and voices, and has a long list of prizes won and excellent reviews worldwide. His writing style is all-encompassing, from the simplest of forms to the ultra-complex, and from the strictly tonal to the acerbically atonal and serial. He is especially adept in his use of Greek influences, such as Greek poetry from both ancient and modern sources, and Greek modal harmony.

There were thirteen works offered, from some of his very early works to his late, and in a variety of styles (i.e., serial, folk-influenced, etc.). It would be beyond the scope of this review to comment about each work, but the interested reader can find a complete list of works played and Mr. Constantinides’s notes here: Program notes

The program was no doubt intended to be a survey of Mr. Constantinides’s oeuvre. The unmistakable impression I got was one of trying to fill the program with as much as possible, which in principle is a good thing, but in practice makes a concert overly long and taxes the listener’s stamina to the point of exhaustion. After a seventy-five-minute first half, more than half of the audience did not return for the second half, which was unfortunate, as the best of the night was awaiting them. Twenty-five minutes of the program could have been removed without any loss, i.e., works “in the style of” and practice room studies for starters. I have made this point in at least two other reviews of programs that were devoted to Mr. Constantinides’s music – they have been exhausting rather than exhaustive, and that is doing a disservice to his music and to the concert-going experience in general.

This is not meant to take anything away from the performers; they are all excellent musicians who deserve praise for their commitment to this music. Athanasios Zervas, alto saxophonist, bookended the program. Fantasia for solo saxophone, LRC 80(1981) was his highlight, played in a jazzy, improvisational manner, even though each note and phrase was carefully thought out. Violist Christopher Lowry followed with the Sonata for Viola and Piano, LRC 21a (1971 rev. 1977), strikingly beautiful with his sweeping lyrical tone against the often-violent piano accompaniment (for which the glassy upper register of the hall piano was especially apt). Next came Ballade for the Hellenic Land for solo cello, LRC 159 (1998), a work revealing Constantinides at his best, and cellist Ciao Diniz transported the listener to Athens in a truly enchanting performance that danced and sang. Like many of the Constantinides’s Greek-themed works, the Ballade has an idiomatic flow that sounds completely natural and spontaneous. Theme and Variations for Piano, LRC 1 (1965) followed, showing the meticulous playing of pianist Nathan Carterette. Each detail was carefully prepared and delivered in a well-executed performance. Violinists Perla Fernández and Mireille López are fine players, but their featured work, Twentieth-Century Studies for two violins, LRC 14 (1970 rev. 2001) was one of those pieces that could have been relegated to the practice room for which such studies are suited. In other words, just because a work can be programmed does not mean it should be programmed- my sincere apologies!

Violinist Kurt Nikkanen was the star of the evening. He is a dynamo with technique to burn and enough passion to fill any hall. It is almost a tragedy that he was featured on the second half, after the mass exodus. He truly loves the music of Dinos Constantinides, and it shows. Mr. Nikkanen also informed the audience that he was playing Mr. Constantinides’s violin, which lent an additional poignancy to his performance. Pianist Maria Asteriadou, a force in her own right, was the ideal collaborator, and their gorgeous Idyll for violin and piano, LRC 147 (1994) was the highlight of the evening for this listener. Again, unfortunately, subsequent offerings emerged as works that ought to have been omitted. The derivative pieces “in the style of” Beethoven and Brahms, Sonata for violin and piano (A Beethoven), LRC 13b (1946) and A Brahms for violin and piano, LRC 13a (1946), would not have been missed if omitted, despite Mr. Nikkanen’s fine performances. There is simply more than enough genuine Beethoven and Brahms to hear without hearing imitations (with rare exceptions), especially on such a lengthy program.

Two works influenced by Percy Bysshe Shelley’s poem Mutability closed each half. The first, String Quartet No. 2 (Mutability), LRC 62 (1979 rev. 1998):  IV. Moderato, was an eighteen-minute journey of funereal despondency, with echoes of Chopin’s Funeral March hovering about, which sent the audience joylessly into intermission. The second, Mutability Fantasy for alto saxophone and piano, LRC 66(1979 rev. 1995), closed the program. It meanders about and just seems to stop rather than actually ending. There were no curtain calls and no assembling of all performers on stage for a final bow. It made for a less than ideal presentation (and hint: it was not Shelley’s fault). This listener, an experienced and avid concertgoer, left both confused and vexed. Imagine how the lay listener must have felt. This must be addressed and not repeated in the future. Mr. Constantinides for one deserves better.

Péter Tóth, pianist

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

Sunday, October 9, 2022

Throngs of music lovers this Sunday traded afternoon sun for a 2 PM Weill Hall concert amid strangers with Covid masks and a program of intense, often dark, piano music of Franz Liszt (including the weighty Funerailles, the dark Ballade No. 2 in B minor, and the ponderous Chappelle de Guillaume Tell). Why, you may ask? Well, it appears that many knew in advance what kind of musicianship and virtuosity awaited, and it seemed well worth the trade. Though this reviewer is new to the pianism of Péter Tóth, it soon became clear that there are very good reasons he has such passionate supporters, including some who were ready to argue heatedly over the last orchestra seats, as overflow moved up to the balcony. (Though it always mystifies me to witness cantankerous behavior in pursuit of something as pure as, say, the music of Abbé Liszt, in a way it is heartening – suggesting possibly an urgent need for such live music, as opposed to the overhyped Auto-Tune shams that pass for music these days.)

Though the elegant and softspoken presenter Adam Gyorgy could barely be heard over the commotion to introduce the concert, he spoke glowingly from the stage about his friend Mr. Tóth, for reasons we would soon learn. Incidentally Adam Gyorgy is a fine pianist himself, whom this listener had the pleasure of reviewing back in 2011 – so with him, Mr. Tóth, and some others, the pianistic talent in the hall was approaching what might be termed “critical mass.”  As for Péter Tóth, the printed program lists some of his important prizes (including from the Franz Liszt International Piano Competitions in Budapest in 2001), as well as recordings and concerts, but more biographical information can be found at his website, petertothpianist.com. In addition to the credentials and brilliance that we have come to expect from young prizewinners, we heard music-making of true passion and intelligence as well as profound dedication.

The Chapel of William Tell from Années de Pelerinage (Years of Pilgrimage) made a grand opening, a noble tribute to the legendary hero in a struggle for independence  – and as resonant in today’s turbulent world as ever. Mr. Tóth captured its declamatory power to a tee, shaping its phrases with conviction and fine gradations of tone. This was not the blitz of brilliance that the uninitiated might expect at a Liszt recital but rather the musical meditation of Liszt the dreamer. Waldesrauschen (or Forest Murmurs) followed flowingly as a balm – a good programming choice, and one well suited to the hall piano with its rich middle register and rather glassy upper register. The performance was a model of balance and control.

The more substantial works came next, starting with Funerailles, and it was here that the expressive range and power of this pianist became clear – as well as his expert pacing. He showed that he is able to sustain a slow build for long stretches while keeping power in reserve to unleash at a work’s peak. Much credit here of course goes to Liszt himself, but even after years of hearing Funerailles, this listener still found surprise in the mounting left-hand triplets and ensuing octaves. They seemed simply effortless in this pianist’s hands – dazzling but with all focus on the music itself.

The Ballade No. 2 in B minor (written in 1853 just a few years after Funerailles) created still greater storms, with its ominous chromatic bass surges and explosive traversals of the keyboard. Not to dwell simply on the overt technical display, what impressed again was the control in shaping the music. Where called for, Mr. Tóth tapered his melodic phrases masterfully in every dynamic range. At several points, for example, pianissimo tones were prolonged such that,  even when one thought it impossible to fade further, they resolved to still quieter ones – still projecting to the back rows. This listener apparently had a kindred musical spirit in the admiration for such control, as each time such a remarkable diminuendo occurred there as a slight gasp from a seat nearby; one need not be attuned to such wizardry to enjoy the magic, however, and the entire audience was silent in reverence (those little gasps notwithstanding).

More oceanic surges came in the Légende No. 2, St François de Paule Marchant Sur Les Flots (St. Francis of Paulus Walking over the Waves), and again the pianist was in his element. Mr. Tóth’s saint walked perhaps more stolidly and metrically than I’ve generally heard, so a few times one might have wanted just a shade more “stopping to smell the roses” (or aquatic flora in this case), but ultimately Mr. Tóth’s conception was persuasive. There was at the work’s peak just the triumph one wanted, so it is hard to argue about the path getting there.

The Hungarian Rhapsody No. 6 capped off the program in celebratory style. For those unfamiliar with this particular Rhapsody, it is the one with such rapid repeated octaves in the right hand that a pianist playing it might land himself in ER if not careful. It is only for the fearless, and Mr. Tóth was just that, with perhaps just a touch of his characteristic restraint at the octaves’ start to pace the excitement. It was a brilliant and altogether exhilarating close to a superb recital and was met with a hearty standing ovation.

An encore of Paderewski’s Nocturne in B-flat was the final reward, and it was meltingly beautiful. A man who before the concert had barked at someone “will you stop that?!” now appeared transported, eyes closed with a faint smile, while a woman in a wheelchair near me seemed to be nearly standing up to see better. Great music in the right hands can be transformative. Congratulations go to those who make it happen.

“Nacht und Träume”

Juhee Lim, piano

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

October 6, 2022

The typical trajectory of a wunderkind’s career—the firebrand phase of blazing confidence opening the door to a slow infusion of poetry and psychological depth—has been turned on its head by the high stakes of joining today’s music profession. Pianist Juhee Lim, at age twenty-two, sponsored by the Sejong Soloists and the Samsung Foundation of Culture, began her Weill Recital Hall program Thursday night with a requiem and visions of death in Lera Auerbach’s searing 1992 triptych, Memento mori. The raw intensity of Ms. Lim’s statement bypassed all pianistic pleasantries and underscored the ironic double meaning of the concert’s title, “Nacht und Träume.” Far from a tribute to a familiar Schubert Lied about peaceful slumber, the symbolism here was of death, nightmares, and dwindling hope. (Is this the horizon on which a modern creative artist must gaze?) Despair hovers around us—this month marks the centenary of T. S. Eliot’s The Waste Land, to follow the poetic tangent further. Perhaps Ms. Lim’s philosophical icebreaker was just an impressive warm-up, but the message hit home.

The other two works of the evening, Ravel’s Gaspard de la nuit and Brahms’s Sonata in F minor, Op. 5, presented more literary nocturnal associations (water spirits, a hanging corpse, goblins, twilight) and assuaged the realism of Ms. Lim’s opening gambit by returning us, in reverse chronological order, to a more traditional world with which we could cope.

The diminutive Juhee Lim is a colossal pianist with a palette of ten thousand colors. She revels in drama, delicacy, rhetorical outbursts, and sophisticated handling of time and silence. A veteran soloist, having received engagements with the Mariinsky Orchestra, the London Symphony Orchestra, the Tokyo Philharmonic, and the Juilliard Orchestra, among others, Ms. Lim showed no barrier of nerves and plunged straight into her work. Her feather-lightness and faultlessly articulated double notes in Ravel’s Ondine may have been magnified by the easy brightness of the Steinway in the completely full Weill Hall. The morbid theme of the evening continued with the stock-still gallows motif of Le gibet and reached its zenith in Scarbo with its trembling repeated notes and welling-up of passionate ninth chords, all performed with integrity and reserves of stamina.

Ms. Lim’s penchant for muscular majesty encountered a different sort of Everest to scale in the Brahms Sonata. In her hands, this “absolute” music (which does not actually depict anything, although the poetic quote about twilight in Jane Vial Jaffe’s beautiful program essay makes for nice inclusion in the dream sequence) veered daringly close to the aesthetic line famously drawn by Eduard Hanslick in the Romantic Brahms-Liszt divide. Ms. Lim’s coy-to-ferocious character changes and liberally pedalled cadences seemed more evocative of Schumann’s wild Florestan than of the fledgling Brahms who played his new sonata for Schumann at the age of twenty, and inner voices which are often given a sonorous treatment resembled ethereal, post-Romantic filigree. (Premonitions of Ms. Lim’s future performance of a Liszt Sonata came to mind.) A stylishly Viennese Scherzo movement and allusions to the mature Brahms’s A German Requiem recapped the thesis of the concert. For any listeners still pining for a soothing Schubert song as promised in the recital’s billing, his G-flat Impromptu from Opus 90 was an ultimately fulfilling encore.

Dan Flanagan, violin

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

October 3, 2022

Dan Flanagan is a true Renaissance man.  During the height of the pandemic in 2020, while the rest of us were baking sourdough bread and watching Netflix, he was busy commissioning sixteen short works for solo violin, inspired by the paintings in his own art collection. Most of the composers, and some of the artists reside in the Bay Area near San Francisco, where Mr. Flanagan is an active freelance musician, a faculty member at UC Berkeley, and concertmaster of the Sacramento Philharmonic. 

Every aspect of the production was thoroughly professional and of a high quality, yet presented in a relaxed and engaging way.  Mr. Flanagan is an excellent violinist, versatile enough to serve as a blank canvas (and I mean this in the best sense) for the diverse styles of all the composers.  The selected paintings were displayed clearly on a large screen.  Before each composition, the violinist rendered a brief introduction, with personal notes about the visual and musical artists.   Marc A. Scorca Hall is a small room, but perfect for this sort of evening, and the acoustics are superb.

Time and space do not permit me to review each of the participants, so I will mention a few highlights: The Collection, by Shinji Eshima, was inspired by a portrait of the violinist by Paul Gibson.  Mr. Eshima wove a theme based on the four notes of Bach’s name into an expressive, rhapsodic piece, employing all the basics of violin technique.  Raven’s Dance, to a texturally vivid painting of that creature by Nina Fabunmi, led Linda Marcel to create an aural landscape of fluttering, skittering, clawing sound, using a battery of contemporary techniques.  I was surprised to learn from the extensive program notes that Oil on Canvas was the composer Michael Panther’s very first piece for solo violin.  If so, this is a very impressive partner to another Gibson work called, simply, AB White.  Of all the solos, I felt that this one struck the perfect balance between subjective and objective modes of interpretation. It certainly made we want to hear more of Mr. Panther’s work.  Equally compelling was Émergence, a haunting evocation of Susan Bostrom-Wong’s Stepping Out.  In both works, concrete ideas emerge from a hazy background in a beautifully modulated fashion. 

At this point in the program, Mr. Flanagan paused to tell the story behind the next piece, Blue Swan, by Evan Price.  In his recounting, to relieve his boredom during lockdown, he developed a new hobby – destroying old string instruments that were already beyond hope.  The cello that appears in Sean O’Donnell’s Allegro Non Trollop was in fact, thrown off a fourth story building, and became the model for his sculpture and for Mr. Prices’s bluesy transformation of Saint-Saëns The Swan, from Carnival of the Animals. 

James Stephenson, a successful orchestral musician turned composer,  chose Armand Guillamin’s Cour de Ferme, Breuillet, as a departure point for an entire vignette with some dark overtones. A demonic country fiddle tune becomes frenzied as the story behind the painting unravels.  Mr. Flanagan brought this to life convincingly, as he did in the following solo, Peter Josheff’s Same Old Sadness, and exquisite, shimmering evocation in the alpine regions of the violin of an untitled canvas by Peter Canty.  Finally, in Couple au lit, David Mecionis explores the netherworld between waking and sleeping, in a thorny, eerily beautiful and challenging solo. 

I must list all the composers and paintings on whom I could not elaborate:  Victoria Veedell, Cindy Cox, Elaine Pratt, Maija Hynninen, Rachel Dwan, Nathaniel Stookey, Ludovic-Rodo Pissarro, Edmund Campion, Carrington Arredondo, Emily Onderdonk, Joaquin Turner, Nikki Vismara, Libby Larsen, Robert Antoine Pinchon, José González Granero, and last, but certainly not least, the unassuming star of the evening, Dan Flanagan.  His generosity and intelligence informed the entire program, and both of his own compositions affirmed his talent and (especially in the encore) his virtuosity.  This presentation is scheduled for an extensive touring season, and I wish it much success.

Buffalo Philharmonic Orchestra
JoAnn Falletta, Conductor

The Choir of Trinity Wall Street; Downtown Voices
Nikki Chooi, Violin; Amy Porter, Flute

Stern Auditorium, Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

October 3, 2022

To celebrate the centennial of the birth of Lukas Foss, a free concert by the Buffalo Philharmonic Orchestra (BPO) was presented at Carnegie Hall on October 3, 2022. Five of Foss’s works, plus one by Foss’s teacher Randall Thompson, were on the program, with The Choir of Trinity Wall Street and Downtown Voices also participating. It was wonderful to see a packed hall even in spite of the bad weather, with a large number of BPO supporters festooned with BPO face masks and many young people.

The Buffalo Philharmonic Orchestra led by JoAnn Falletta was ideal for offering this tribute, given both Foss’s strong impact on both the BPO (as music director from 1963-1971) and Foss’s influence on Ms. Falletta as a mentor, friend, and colleague. Those in attendance were rewarded with the experience of hearing a world-class orchestra, led by a conductor who rates as one the all-time greats, playing the music of an authentic musical genius. Maybe this concert is a step in “righting the wrong” of this country’s relative neglect of Foss, who is every bit the national treasure that Copland and Bernstein are – a voice of optimism, idealism, and great expanses.

JoAnn Falletta bounded onto the Stern Auditorium stage with energy and purpose, what proved to be traits of her leadership this evening. One could sense there was something extra, that this was much more than just a concert to her. Opening with Ode (or the full title Ode to Those Who Will Not Return), this listener sensed from the first notes that this was going to be something out of the ordinary. Ode is inspired by John Donne, specifically the 17^th Devotions upon Emergent Occasions, which has been often rendered in poetic form as “For Whom the Bell Tolls.” The “bells” toll in the low strings, and there is an uneasiness that hovers over, but never really disappears until the very end, where a serene C major quietly “makes peace,” which mirrors Donne well. This was an inspired choice to open, and I was much taken with this work.

Three American Pieces, in the 1986 version for violin and orchestra, followed the Ode. BPO concertmaster Nikki Chooi was the featured soloist. Make no mistake, this is unbridled joy from start to finish, brimming with Americana. One can hear what Foss calls a “prairie lullaby,” folk-like tunes, ragtime, blues, and some scintillating fiddling. Mr. Chooi played it to the hilt. He was obviously having a great time and is clearly a player of dazzling abilities. As much as I enjoyed the razzle-dazzle moments, the second movement Dedication was my favorite in its breathtaking beauty.

Renaissance Concerto for flute and orchestra, with flute soloist Amy Porter, was the final work on the first half. While many of the names of early music make “guest appearances,” (viz. Byrd, Rameau, Monteverdi, and Gesualdo), modern devices abound, such as extended techniques from the soloist. It is looking forward and backward simultaneously – vintage Foss.  It is said that Foss “followed where his mind went,” which sometimes was forward and other times backward.  Any number of “schools” could have claimed him, and they all would have strong cases. Incidentally, on this subject, I must mention the excellent program notes by Peter J. Rabinowitz, which were informative without being overly didactic or just a mishmash of “fun facts” for the lay listener.

To return to the performance, the Renaissance Concerto enjoyed a superb interpretation. Ms. Porter is a formidable player – she couples a pristine tone quality with technique to burn. The Jouissance finale was the showcase, with brilliant passagework, a courtly duet between the flute and tambourine, some tapping on keys, and aggressive blowing, culminating in Ms. Porter’s slow exit from the stage while still tapping keys and making a “click” sound as she got farther from the stage. The audience reacted enthusiastically, and it was a fine end to the half.

After intermission, Psalms for chorus and orchestra opened the second half. The Choir of Trinity Wall Street and Downtown Voices joined the BPO. Psalms is a single-movement, three-part work that uses verses from Psalms 121 and 95 in the first section, Psalm 100 in the second, and Psalm 23 in the third. It is built around the harp, piano, and percussion, what the program notes refer to as an imagined “Biblical” sound (though I have some mixed feelings about that designation). There are glances at Stravinsky’s Symphony of Psalms and Bernstein’s Chichester Psalms, but let’s remind the reader in the latter case that Foss was first! The combined choirs were outstanding, with clear diction and articulation, coupled with ensemble balance and intonation that was exceptional. Special credit to Stephen Sands for his fine work in preparing the choirs.

Randall Thompson’s much-loved and much performed Alleluia was another opportunity for The Choir of Trinity Wall Street and Downtown Voices to showcase their artistry. It was sublime.

Foss’s Symphony No. 1 was the final work on the program. This is the work of a young composer who is still trying to establish his voice. It’s brimming with ideas, and the orchestration is brilliant, but there is the unmistakable impression that while the composer has the gifts, he does not a clear idea of what to do with them or how to use them to maximum advantage. One hears Copland, some Stravinsky, and even Hindemith, to be sure, all good role models; these observations notwithstanding, it is still a remarkable work for a twenty-two-year-old composer. Ms. Falletta and the BPO gave it their all; the strings shimmered, and the brass and woodwinds were rich and robust. The audience reacted with a well-earned standing ovation in what was a fine ending to a memorable evening.

Junior Division (ages 10-18): Julia LaGrand, violin, (USA), 1^st prize; Ryan Maxwell, piano, (USA), 2^nd prize; Sihu Hwang, piano (S. Korea) 3^rd prize; Laura P. Muñoz, piano, (Spain), encouragement award

Young Artist Division (ages 19-30): Jisun Kim violin, (S. Korea), 1^st prize; Mackenzie Jacquemin, voice, (USA), 2^nd prize; Guillem León, piano, (Spain), 3^rd prize; Fernando Apan, piano (Mexico), encouragement prize

National Opera Center, Marc A. Scorca Hall, New York, NY 10001

September 3, 2022

The Bella Music Foundation presented the winners of its 2020 competition in the intimate Marc A. Scorca hall at New York’s National Opera Center. Yes, they were delayed by “that” virus. Now imagine winning a competition two years ago and having to hold on to that piece and maintain its level for two more years.

Let me frame this another way: I often tell my students to close their eyes for fifteen minutes or a half-hour if they can stand it (no peeking!) to sharpen their spatial awareness at the keyboard. What if you could “never” open your eyes?

Bella’s mission statement is: “supporting musically talented individuals and schools for the blind by presenting opportunities for world-class education in classical music.” Judging from these talented performers, it is a resounding success.

In all, there were eight winners (see above for full list), but only five were able to make it to New York, despite six being listed on the program.

First to appear were the Division I (ages 10-18) winners. Pianist Laura P. Muñoz gave a rapturous, mature reading of Liszt’s Transcendental Etude No. 9, “La Ricordanza,” with beautifully lyrical melody and sparkling filigree, reminding me a bit of Arrau. She was followed by pianist Ryan Maxwell, who created a deep, meaty, appropriately Brahmsian tone in Brahms’s Rhapsody in G minor, Op. 79, No. 2, while also bringing out its essential mysterious quality. This portion of the recital concluded with violinist Julia LaGrand’s stunning rendition of Ravel’s treacherous showpiece Tzigane. Every firework was perfectly carried out with wit and poise, and the whole built beautifully to its final frenzy. She was more than ably accompanied by the evening’s collaborative pianist, the excellent Hyunjin Cho.

Two of the Division II winners (ages 19-30) then took the stage. First, soprano Mackenzie Jacquemin, who showed off a bright, clear lyric soprano in Pamina’s aria from Mozart’s Die Zauberflöte, “Ach, ich fühl’s,” sung with gentle sorrow. Ms. Jacquemin had some lovely soft high notes too. The concert was brought to a stunning close by violinist Jisun Kim, (with Hyunjin Cho again, wonderful), who tossed off Sarasate’s blistering Carmen Fantasy, Op. 25, as though she had been born playing it. Every dazzling special effect was spot on, and, by the way, her intonation was perfect.

All took the stage for the official presentation of the prizes. The audience, naturally, was wild with ovation for everyone.

Bella’s motto is: “In every note there is hope.” I’d venture to add, even more than hope: realization, the ultimate achievement.

“In Search of Lost Time”

Jingci Liu and Wenting Yu, Pianists

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

July 30, 2022

In the last weekend of July, GOCAA Artists Concert Series (Global Outstanding Chinese Artists Association) presented a recital of two of their winners, pianists Jingci Liu and Wenting Yu at the National Opera Center’s Scorca Hall, and listeners were treated to exciting solos and duos from both. Both are winners of a variety of awards, and both are working for their Doctorate of Musical Arts degrees. Ms. Liu is currently studying with Dr. Angelina Gadeliya at the University of Connecticut. Mr. Yu is studying with Dr. Vladimir Valjarevic at Mason Gross School of the Arts at Rutgers University. Ms. Liu and Mr. Yu were graduated from the Mannes School of Music in New York City where they each achieved the Master of Music degree under the tutelage of Mme. Pavlina Dokovska. They are married and have played duos together since 2016. For full disclosure, this reviewer was out of New York for the concert so could not attend, but a video recording of the live performance was provided.

Ms. Liu opened the program with music by three female composers, Clara Schumann, Amy Beach, and Cecile Chaminade. First came Clara Schumann’s Soirées Musicales, Op. 6, written when the composer was just sixteen. The music is a set of six pieces full of yearning and youthful dreaming, from which Ms. Liu chose three, starting with the Nocturne, continuing with the Mazurka in G minor, and ending with the Toccatina (which originally opens the set). Ms. Liu revealed sensitive shading overall through the Nocturne, a flair for improvisatory whimsy in the Mazurka, and just the right urgency in the impassioned Toccatina.

Dreaming, Op.15, No.3, by Amy Beach followed with no break for applause, but Ms. Liu took a substantial meditative pause beforehand. Her unhurried approach suited this miniature just right, affording her time to lavish its lyrical lines with care. Cecile Chaminade’s bristling Toccata, Op. 39, closed the set energetically with lots of perpetual motion pianism. 

The next segment found Wenting Yu introducing his portion of the program, including three Preludes of  Claude Debussy, Voiles (Veils), Ce qu’a vu le vent d’ouest (What the West Wind Saw), and Feux d’artifice (Fireworks). Mr. Yu probed the magic of Voiles beautifully, with every detail in place. Like Ms. Liu, he clearly revels in a large range of sonorities. His Ce qu’a vu le vent d’ouest was fittingly stormy, and Feux d’artifice benefited from his precise touch and control at high speed.

The Étude, Op. 28, No. 2 by Robert Casadesus felt like an encore after all the storming Debussy, and it lightened the mood with its jaunty spirit. The fact that it is an octave study seemed insignificant, as its challenges were handled with aplomb – close in mastery to that of the composer’s wife, pianist Gaby Casadesus, whose recorded rendition set the standard. The rapidfire Étude Op. 28, No. 8 and the Toccata, Op.40 capped off Mr. Yu’s solo group brilliantly. If this reviewer recalls correctly, this Toccata was a required piece several decades ago for the Cleveland International Piano Competition when the competition still bore the name of Casadesus. It is thus especially refreshing to hear this work take its rightful place on a stage without any taint of duress. Mr. Yu is to be commended for exploring this lesser-known repertoire, and for doing so expertly – as is Ms. Liu with her selections by women composers.

The second half of this concert featured the two pianists as a four-hand team in a tantalizing array of arrangements of orchestral works by Rachmaninoff and Debussy. To start came one penned by Wladimir Wilschau of the second and third movements of Rachmaninoff’s glorious Symphony No.2 in E minor. Devotees of the orchestral original may balk at the idea of such grandeur being “reduced” to the realm of four-hand piano writing, but doubters will enjoy a threefold epiphany. First of all, Wilschau’s is an excellent arrangement, which has simply remained in relative obscurity since its publication in 1910. Secondly, the tonal palette available to two highly trained pianists on a single piano can be much greater than many imagine. Thirdly, the sensitivity of the Yu/Liu duo, both to the composition and to each other’s performance, creates a cohesive and compelling performance that is hard to resist.

Debussy’s Prelude to the Afternoon of a Faun, as arranged by Maurice Ravel, was equally evocative of orchestral color in this duo’s hands, as was Debussy’s Dialogue du Vent et de la Mer (Dialogue of the Wind and the Sea) from La Mer, arranged by the composer himself. (For those interested, the duo swapped Primo and Secondo roles several times – Ms. Liu playing the Primo part in the Rachmaninoff second movement, with Mr. Yu Primo in the third, and then Ms. Liu playing Primo in the Afternoon of a Faun, with Mr. Yu as Primo in La Mer.)

Hearty applause was generously rewarded with two encores, both ones with “novelty” appeal. First was Qui vive! (1862) by Wilhelm Ganz (1833-1914), an illustrious but now rather forgotten musician who happened also to be an accompanist to singer Jenny Lind. A joyous romp, the piece galoped its way to an exciting finish in perfect synch through myriad tempo tweaks. It is the perfect test piece for a married duo in a way, each player needing to adjust pace and mood at the bat of an eyelash or the twitch of a finger. Suffice it to say that this duo passed with flying colors.

The second encore was by Tal Zilber‘s Brahms in Salsa, a saucy play (pun intended) on the Brahms Hungarian Dance No. 5 (with even a few gratuitous quotations from Beethoven’s Für Elise towards the end).  Though this duo needs no gimmicks, such campy touches undoubtedly will please crowds as this duo tours, as will their introductory remarks (though some of those warranted a bit more planning). The only part of this concert’s “packaging” that really didn’t work for this reviewer was the rather strained subtitle for the whole program, “In Search of Lost Time.” Despite catchall comments from Mr. Yu about remembrance, wishes, and the spirit of the repertoire (and despite the fact that some audiences need something extra-musical to think about), one found oneself looking for a copy of Proust’s masterpiece and a shoehorn; in all other respects, however, congratulations are in order for a fine recital.

Pianists: Evelina Ania Kleczek, Owen Yisu Wang, Chihaya Inaba, William Petrarch Hsieh, Anh Nguyen, Taige Wang, Kanae Maeda, and Delvan Lin

DiMenna Center for Classical Music 450 W 37th St, New York, NY 10018

July 24, 2022

It has been a privilege for roughly fourteen years to watch the growth and continued success of the Rosalyn Tureck International Bach Competition, hearing young pianists on their paths to the world’s stages, and this year’s event was no exception. The TIBC, as it is shortened, was conceived in 2003 by pianist Golda Vainberg-Tatz to honor her mentor, the celebrated Bach interpreter Rosalyn Tureck (with Dr. Tureck’s blessing shortly before she passed away), and events have now taken place in 2008, 2010, 2013, 2015, 2017, 2019, and the current year, 2022.

Just beholding the list of prizes and honorable mentions is overwhelming, with eight repertoire categories (Category 8 being the monumental set of Goldberg Variations), all with different age limits within the overall range of 8 to 28.  For example, Category 1 (the Short Preludes, Preludes and Fugues, and Fantasies) is for an age range of 8-12, while Category 2 (Inventions and Sinfonias) runs up to age 15, with other categories going up to 20 or 28 (except Category IV, which is divided by two age ranges and also by specific repertoire choices from among the Partitas and other Suites). Whew! It takes patience to process, but the judges are the ones needing to master it all – and they seem to have done quite well!

As the top prize in eight repertoire categories is called the Rosalyn Tureck Prize in each case, all can get a bit confusing, but it appears that there was no such prize awarded this year in Category 1 (Short Preludes, Preludes and Fugues, Fantasies), Category 7 (Recital), or Category 8 (The Goldberg Variations). In Categories 2-6 the Rosalyn Tureck Prize was awarded (shared in two cases) to William Hsieh,  Taige Wang, Evelina Kleczek, Owen Wang, Kanae Maeda, Delvan Lin, and Anh Nguyen. In addition, there was a Contemporary Music Award (cash), shared here by Chihaya Inaba, Evelina Kleczek, Kanae Maeda, and Taige Wang. A special award named for pianist Olga Kern was shared by William Hsieh and Taige Wang (the Kern Foundation “Aspiration” Award), and last but certainly not least, the Evgeny Kissin Grand Prize/Steinway Award, was awarded to Delvan Lin. For more details one can visit Rosalyn Tureck International Bach Competition.

To open the Winners’ Concert, we heard Evelina Ania Kleczek (age 13, USA, Category 3- Preludes and Fugues; TIBC Contemporary Music Award), playing the noble Prelude and Fugue in C Major (BWV 870) from Book II of the Well- Tempered Clavier. Her playing showed remarkable maturity, poise, and control. She let the music speak for itself simply and directly without overthinking  – a refreshing performance, especially in the stressful context of a competition. Her voicing in the Fugue was particularly commendable, along with her crisp articulations and judicious pacing.

Owen Yisu Wang played next (age 14, Canada, Category 3 – Preludes and Fugues), offering (rather surprisingly) Felix Mendelssohn’s Op.35, No 3 in B minor, with its unrelenting Prelude and equally rigorous, thorny Fugue. This remarkable young pianist is to be congratulated on faring so well in this demanding piece, though one can’t help wondering how he resisted some of the other more interesting, expressive pieces in this opus – perhaps the fact that this B minor one is lesser known was part of the allure. At any rate, it was impressive in its highly disciplined digital evenness. In all the driving staccato notes of the Prelude, it could have perhaps benefited from a more dance-like feel, but all in all it was excellent. One looks forward to hearing this talented pianist in repertoire that shows a greater variety of musical facets.

Up next was Chihaya Inaba (age 14, Japan, TIBC 2022 Contemporary Music Award and Honorable Mention in Category 2 – Inventions Sinfonias, Duets), who brought the program into the present day with music of William Bolcom (b. 1938), specifically the “Hymne á l’amour” (2009) from 12 Etudes Book IV. A stirring and musically demanding piece that sets a haunting repeated 8-note motif against poignant  dissonances and builds to a powerful emotionalpeak, it was an unusual choice for such a young player. Mr. Inaba gave it his profound involvement – a surprise and a joy to hear in one so young – and the Contemporary Music Award seems quite justified.  One is still left curious to hear his Bach, the raison d’être for the competition, but one suspects that his interpretations would be equally personal and compelling.

Still more music of our day followed, with Kapustin’s Sonatina Op. 100 (composed in 2000) as played by William Petrarch Hsieh (age 12, USA, Category 2 – Inventions, Sinfonias, Duets; the Contemporary Music Award; and the Kern Foundation “Aspiration” Award). This piece, like so much of Kapustin, is highly jazz-influenced but without actually being jazz (as Kapustin was known to articulate when speaking about his music). Mr. Hsieh’s performance here brought out its saucy flavor, and it was pure fun. The Sonatina is not at all easy, but Mr. Hsieh played it with such technical ease and a sense of the idiom that it felt “tossed off” – a striking thing to behold in a pianist age 12. When combined with some subtle movements of a jazz “pro” one almost had to laugh with delight. One repeats to oneself: age twelve.

As terrific as the twentieth and twenty-first-century selections were, it was a joy to return to the honoree of this competition, J. S. Bach, in the hands of Anh Nguyen (age 14, Vietnam, Category 6 – Chromatic Fantasy and Fugue, Italian Concerto, Sonatas). She played Bach’s magnificent (and difficult) Toccata and Fugue in G Major, BWV 916, handling its contrapuntal challenges extremely well. Her rendition will undoubtedly feel more and more settled as she lives with it, but it had much to offer. She gave it a brisk and authoritative opening, a sensitively wrought Adagio, and a percolating fugue. It will be a pleasure to see where music leads this young player.

Music of Bolcom returned next, specifically the Nine Bagatelles (1996) in the hands of Taige Wang (age 11, China, Categories 2 and 5 – Inventions, Sinfonias, Duets, Various; Kern Foundation” Aspiration” Award; and TIBC Contemporary Music Award). These Bagatelles, unlike the more overtly jazzy and accessible music of the same composer, are quite craggy, dissonant, and hard to grasp even aurally, so it was especially astonishing to hear them so well played by an eleven-year old! Mercurial mood changes, extreme dynamics, and elements of atonality all contribute to the difficulty of this set, but young Mr. Wang was up to all of it. One can see why he received the “Aspiration” Award and looks forward to more from him.

Kanae Maeda (Age 19, Japan, Category 4A – Suites and Partitas), participated virtually from Japan but made a fine showing, first with selected dances from Bach’s English Suite No. 3 in G minor BWV 808 and then with Rain Tree Sketch II (1992) by Toru Takemitsu (1930-1996). The Bach was well controlled and meticulous, with an emphasis on the motoric energy in the Prelude, and a similarly metric Gavotte I. The Gavotte II with its gentler turn to major and slight easing up of tension was thus especially welcome –  and also nicely ornamented. Her control and clarity in the Gigue were exemplary. She definitely has a grasp of consistency of voice and texture  – a good thing – but it may be time to look for more ways of varying the sound while projecting phrases. She certainly found tonal variety in the Takemitsu piece – and it was rendered with utmost personal expressiveness – and with the color befitting its dedicatee Olivier Messiaen.

It says a lot that, as I passed the hour mark of hearing these winners and was starting to ask that inevitable question (“how much more is there?”), the final performer had me immediately wanting the music to continue. The pianist grabbing my attention was Delvan Lin (age 22, New Zealand, Category 4B -Partitas 2,3,5,6, and French Overture; the Evgeny Kissin Grand Prize 2022, and the Steinway Award 2022). From the very opening phrases of his Toccata from Bach’s Partita No.6 in E minor BWV 830, this was Bach from the human soul – no metronomes in sight, though with a perfect grasp of the music’s human pulse. There was infinite variety, as is inherent in the music itself – though such range is not always found by all pianists. Each climb, each descent, each sequence, each gesture served to reveal the monument in music that Bach created, and yet we the listeners lived fully in each moment, as should be the case. The result was breathtaking. No note was without feeling, and no phrase was without shape, and yet the overview remained one of proportion and thoughtfulness. Bravissimo!! Before I drown in superlatives, I’ll add that the subsequent Sarabande and Gigue held that high standard, though the Toccata basically eclipsed all. There can be no regrets in choosing this winner, and I truly look forward to hearing him again!

Congratulations go to the jury for their discernment – including for the finals Emmanuel Krasovsky, Andre Laplante, Linda Petrikova, and Jerome Rose. Perhaps it is not a coincidence that the description in the above paragraph could describe some of the performances I’ve heard by Rosalyn Tureck herself. One can only imagine how proud she would be, were she here to behold this legacy.  Congratulations go to all involved – the jury, the young performers, the patrons, and to the tireless director of it all, Golda Tatz. Bravi tutti!

Martín García García, piano

Merkin Hall, Kaufman Music Center, New York, NY

July 17, 2022

Martín García García is an exciting young Spanish pianist who played the final recital at this year’s International Keyboard Institute and Festival, founded by one of his teachers, Jerome Rose. The First Prize winner of the Cleveland International Piano Competition, he has also won other prizes, such as at the Chopin International Piano Competition in Warsaw, and he has performed in solo recital and concerto appearances both here and in Europe. His playing evokes enthusiasm from his audience, and that is not hard to understand. 

Mr. García is an excellent Mozart player! The first movement of the C minor Sonata, K. 457 was vigorous, yet nuanced and sensitive. The development section was dramatic, and the rather surprising quiet conclusion was effectively played. The slow movement worked well at a straight-forward tempo. Some of the fast runs tickled, and the coda was delicious! The last movement, a somewhat strange piece, had an improvisational feeling, forceful, yet with charm. Here Mr. García added some intriguing and delightful cadenzas. 

With barely a pause after concluding the Mozart, Mr. García offered three Liszt works. He launched into the jarring minor ninths at the beginning of Funérailles. He played the theme in F minor slower than one sometimes hears it, but it worked very well his way. He really picked up steam and created a huge climax in the octave section before the “fading away into nothing” end of the piece. Les jeux d’eaux à la Villa d’Este was a beautiful picture, in sound, of the splashing fountain, with some feelings of nostalgia, yet also full-strength exuberance. The Valse-Impromptu, which concluded the first half, was playful and light-hearted, though occasionally thoughtful, and full of charm. 

Mr. García certainly brought out the contrasts between the three Chopin Waltzes, Op. 34, which began the second half! I had never before heard the A-flat Waltz played so fast! Yet, it featured nice shadings, and good musician that he is, repeated phrases always came back in different dynamics the second time around. Similarly, I had never heard the A minor Waltz played so slowly, but found it totally convincing. The F major Waltz, the theme of which has always reminded me of a dog chasing its own tail, was very fast; playful, elegant, and puckish, with a lovely modulation into the D-flat major section.    

The printed program concluded with the B minor Sonata of Chopin. The first movement is a particular masterpiece, full of both bravura and poetry. It’s difficult not to compare in one’s mind great performances one has heard of it. How does Mr. García’s interpretation compare? It’s already very good and will probably ripen further. One heard a real understanding of the idiom, and there were some very special moments. 

Not surprisingly, the first section of the second movement sizzled. Mr. García’s ability to play slowly, convincingly, and very expressively was shown in the middle section of this movement, and in the third movement, the end of which was particularly lovely, and dreamy.  Interestingly, he played the finale at just a moderate speed, making a convincing case for his approach, especially with his terrific finger work in the fast runs. 

Mr. García generously went on to play four encores. The first one was the Schumann Fantasiestück, Op. 111, No. 2. The A-flat major main theme was deeply felt, and the C minor contrasting section had real passion. The coda was particularly beautiful. The second was the Waltz, Op. 38, of Scriabin. It was charming, bubbly, virtuosic, and occasionally bombastic.  The third encore was the well-known C-sharp minor Waltz of Chopin, Op. 64, No. 2. It was stately and elegant. The final encore was Mompou’s Jeunes filles au jardin (Girls In the Garden). Somewhat reminiscent of the styles of Debussy and Satie, it was mostly laid-back and easy-going, yet with outbursts. This is a pianist I would like to hear again!

1. Debussy: Minstrels, No. 12 from Préludes, Book 1, L. 117
2. Grieg: Sonata in E Minor, op. 7 (II. Andante molto)
3. Haydn: Sonata in B Minor, Hob. XVI:32 (I. Allegro moderato)
4. Ravel: Sonatine, M. 40 (I. Modéré)
5. Jessup: Le revenant
6. Mozart: Concerto No. 19 in F Major, K. 459 (III. Allegro assai), Ben Rhee, Camerata Artists Orchestra

Recorded at Oktaven Audio, New York (1–4), live at Weill Recital Hall, Carnegie Hall (5), live at Merkin Concert Hall (6)

Immediacy is the new gold standard. Never mind preening or buying tickets to an exciting début recital at Weill Hall. Now the piano recital comes to you, the program has been pared to its standout moments, and for 99 cents you can own one piece.

The promising 23-year-old American artist Christopher Jessup, a recent Juilliard graduate, takes full advantage of everything technology has to offer. In a smorgasbord of divine sound bites, Mr. Jessup introduces us to a 28-minute playlist of the pieces he delivers as well as anyone: Debussy’s “Minstrels,” the slow movement of Grieg’s Piano Sonata, opening movements of Haydn and Ravel, an original composition, and the Finale of a Mozart concerto with orchestra. The playlist comprises six audio YouTube links showing a profile of Mr. Jessup on the screen, with the exception of track 3, an actual (and very welcome) performance video in a drawing room filled with books. The selections are available for purchase: To purchase on Amazon  To purchase on iTunes

Mr. Jessup’s playing is refined and eloquent in all of the styles he presents here. It is refreshing to witness the first act of a career which does not seem to indulge in virtuosic daredevilry, and although the artist is still searching for his special strength in a varied program overflowing with creative ideas, it may be safe to assume that he will sidestep pure athleticism as he gains wider recognition. His exquisite pacing is never beat-bound, he listens intently for balance and sound quality, and he is not afraid to pull the tempo along as the architecture of each piece unfolds. His expert training in composition not only allows him the freedom to immerse himself directly into the character of each paragraph he utters, but also affords his audience a glimpse of a new actor in that panoply of composer-performers who have shaped the pianistic idiom through the eras. The enthusiastic cadenza of the Mozart Concerto’s third movement which follows Jessup’s original work, Le revenant (The Undead? We would love explanatory notes!), shows us a more traditional version of the pianist’s love of improvisation.

At his best in capricious, spontaneous gestures, exaggerating the flexion of the raised musical eyebrow, Christopher Jessup uses his fine aural conception to lead us smoothly from manic to morose and toward the hyperactive once more, albeit in quizzical fashion. This play of opposites already has established itself in Jessup’s consciousness and in our own, as he traces an odd reverse chronology: from the comical face of Debussy in 1910 back to the Norwegian folk-influenced Edvard Grieg in 1866, to the arch-Classical Haydn of 1775, suddenly parachuting us forward again to France at the turn of the 20^th century, and so on. If the artist has a plan, it is to ask for philosophical cohesion amid an oxymoronic batch of dissociated thinkers. But it is far more likely that he has not worried about the jarring juxtaposition of musical appetizers which lack a main course, and this may not be a productive path as he navigates the concert world.

In keeping with our consumeristic trends, radio stations often use the fallacy of listeners’ abhorrence of empty space to skip movements or delay announcements of titles, shifting images in such a neurological shuffle that listeners become gradually disoriented. The playlist may be a background for other comfortable activities: running, cooking, waiting for customer support. In Mr. Jessup’s demo, even the composers’ names are deemed peripheral, leaving audiophiles to guess them and puzzle over Le revenant,  whose composer, as performer, is almost hidden in plain sight. When one factors in YouTube’s frequent interruptions for ads, Amazon’s running mashup of non sequitur samples, and the absence of program notes on these sites, the result is a rather trivial treatment for a musician who most certainly should be given our serious attention.