Michael Avagliano, conductor; Emil Chudnovsky, violin soloist; Julia Zilberquit, piano soloist

Merkin Hall, Kaufman Center, New York, NY

March 7, 2020

A concert advertised as an “All J.S. Bach Program” was presented at Merkin Hall, March 7, 2020, by The Bachanalia Chamber Orchestra, marking the revival of the Bachanalia Concert Series that noted violinist Nina Beilina founded in 1988. This concert was organized in her memory by her son, violinist Emil Chudnovsky, who was host, teacher, storyteller, performer, and at all times loving son as he spoke of his mother. The full hall was witness to an evening full of emotion, along with some exquisite music making.

Scheduled soloist violinist Michael Guttman cancelled due to illness, so the originally programmed Concerto for Two Violins in D minor, BWV 1043, was replaced with the Violin Concerto in E major, BWV 1042. In addition, Michael Avagliano offered his talents as conductor. Regrettably, there was no list of the names of orchestra members in the program.

The Brandenburg Concerto No. 3, BWV 1048, opened the concert.  The bold, assertive playing, combined with the impeccable articulation, precise intonation, and ensemble balance, made this listener sit up and take notice immediately. One can’t hide behind a large section in such a small ensemble – any weak players are immediately exposed. Rest assured, there are no weak players in this ensemble (and this listener was seated so close to the stage as to be able to focus on any number of individual players).

The second movement Adagio consists of a single notated measure of a Phrygian half-cadence, which invites improvisation (by harpsichord or violin), and in this case it was harpsichord. The (uncredited!) harpsichordist offered an elaborate and virtuosic cadenza, after which the orchestra launched the Allegro assai finale. The ensemble played with great brio. The audience was a bit late in reacting, as it seems that perhaps the 2nd movement confused some regarding the order of movements, but they applauded respectfully. If anything, this audience seemed a bit too restrained in their responses to these fine musicians, who deserved resounding ovations!

Mendelssohn’s Capriccio from Four Pieces for String Quartet, Op. 81, followed the Brandenburg. Wait, didn’t the publicity say “All J.S. Bach”? Mr. Chudnovsky explained to the audience about Mendelssohn’s leading role in the Bach revival, particularly the 1839 revival of St. Matthew Passion. The Capriccio prominently features a fugue. When one thinks of fugues, the name J.S. Bach is the gold standard and the undisputed master of the form. The programming of the Capriccio is what is nowadays would be called a “hat tip” to Bach. It was played with polish.

After the stage was rearranged and a piano moved to the center, Julia Zilberquit took the stage as the soloist for the Piano Concerto in D minor, BWV 1062, Michael Avagliano conducting. Your reviewer has had the pleasure of hearing Ms. Zilberquit in a past concert (Long Island Orchestra with Julia Zilberquit), so I was well aware of her qualities, both technically and artistically. I admired her approach to this work; it was free of the extravagances and eccentricities that beset too many performances. The outer movements were child’s play in her hands, but her artistry in the central Adagio was what won me over completely. It was moving without any “romanticizing,” just pure beautiful Bach. Ms. Zilberquit offered the Vivaldi-Bach Sicilienne, BWV 596, as an encore.  Let’s not forget the orchestra and Mr. Avagliano – they were every bit as compelling as Ms. Zilberquit.

After intermission, the second half opened with the Violin Concerto in E major, BWV 1042, with Mr. Chudnovsky as soloist. Perhaps due to the short notice (Mr. Guttman cancelled five days before the concert), Mr. Chudnovsky used the music. As far as I could see, he never really looked at the music a single time (although Mr. Avagliano made a deft page turn for Mr. Chudovsky as he conducted!). Whatever the case was, Mr. Chudnovsky showed no signs of rushed preparation. He played with the confidence of one who knows he has everything under control. His tone was full-bodied, his intonation impeccable, and his ensemble with the orchestra superb. It was truly impressive.

The story behind the last work on the program, the Bach-Busoni Chaconne from Violin Partita No.2, BWV 1004, is too good not to relate (which I will do very briefly). Charles Jaffe  arranged the Busoni arrangement of Bach’s monumental violin Chaconne to be played as a string quartet, then later arranged it further for string orchestra at the behest of Eugene Ormandy. When Jaffe left the Philadelphia Orchestra in 1945 to join Toscanini’s NBC Orchestra, Ormandy angrily cancelled the premiere. Fast-forwarding sixty-two years (2007) Michael Avagliano was asked to play violin at a 90th birthday party for a gentleman who “loves violin music.” That 90-year-old turned out to be…Charles Jaffe! Jaffe told Mr. Avagliano about his string quartet arrangement and gave him the music, with an additional fifth part for bass. Fast forwarding another eleven years (2018), Mr. Avagliano pulled the music out to prepare for performance, and this evening’s performance was scheduled – so, after seventy-five years, we heard the world premiere of the Bach-Busoni -Jaffe Chaconne! It was the highlight of the evening; effective, powerful, and maintaining all the grandeur of Busoni’s arrangement.  Bravo!

Zachary DePue, violin; Joana Genova, violin; Michael Isaac Strauss, viola; Austin Huntington, cello

Drew Petersen, piano

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

March 5, 2020

The Indianapolis Quartet made an exciting, auspicious New York debut on Thursday night. It is young, as quartets go, formed only in 2016, but it has quickly rocketed to the forefront of well-deserved attention. The quartet plays standard repertoire, judiciously combined with contemporary American works, which are often written expressly for it. The ensemble’s strength is in its energetic, often kinetic, enthusiasm, and each player’s individual virtuosity and flexibility—ideal conditions for a unified group. The interpersonal communication was a joy to behold, with plenty of ease which allowed for smiling and eye contact. On this occasion the quartet played two iconic nineteenth century works (one with piano), and two contemporary works (one a world premiere).

The evening began with Frank Felice’s humorous Five Whimsies for Non-Grown-Ups, brief programmatic movements based on children’s books the composer re-acquired in adulthood (Sendak, Tolkien, Seuss, etc.). The quartet’s playing was so clear and their ensemble so perfect that I could almost “read the score” in my head, although the composer and his work were previously unknown to me. The most successful movement, for me, was “Great yawns are in blossom,” which nearly rose to Barber Adagio grandeur. The composer, in attendance, gratefully received his due applause, and showed his beaming approval of the ensemble, any composer’s dream.

The quartet followed this with a thrilling rendition of the great Schumann Piano Quintet in E-flat major, Op. 44, the first great work for this combination in the nineteenth century, acclaimed and beloved immediately after its premiere, by all except perhaps the work’s instigator: Franz Liszt, who called it “Leipzig” music. Maybe he was referring to the omnipresent squareness of phrasing. It takes a great deal of refinement to make the listener forget about that issue, and we were in good hands here, with the addition of pianist Drew Petersen (an Avery Fisher Career Grant recipient!) to the excellent quartet. This rendition thrived on the electric energy of all the players. There was only one “miscalculation” in my opinion: the second movement’s principal theme, a funeral march, should have a more searching, broken quality, more mystery; it’s very difficult to achieve, and they were in fact playing the movement in the proper tempo. The ensemble eventually got to that quality in the final page of the movement. Naturally, the quick movements were played with excitement that did not exclude sensitivity. Not only is the work cyclic, but the descending six-note “Clara” cipher appears in the first two movements, secret messages being Schumann’s default setting.

After intermission came the world premiere of Robert Paterson’s Quartet No. 3, which is also a five-movement series of programmatic content. This is high-energy music, perfectly suited to the quartet’s strengths. The Auction Chant movement was a wild romp, a description of the frenetic sing-song of a typical auctioneer, combined with witty references to country fiddling, often found in conjunction with such sales. Anthem was a humorous take on fight songs and state songs played at sporting events. The other three movements were harder to define—if one hadn’t read the program notes, perhaps they could have been about “anything,” which is a recalcitrant issue with program music ever since its beginnings. Nevertheless, they provided a great vehicle to display the Indianapolis’ many virtues. Paterson, also in attendance, took his bow to the roar of the appreciative audience.

The group closed with Debussy’s iconic String Quartet in G minor, “Opus 10,” which is funny because it is the only work with an opus number in Debussy’s output, added by his reluctant publisher to make it seem more “official.” This is a monothematic, four-movement work, with constantly shifting, elusive harmonic subtleties, modal inclinations, and the groundbreaking “tritone dominant,” in this case G-C sharp (sometimes spelled D-flat), which occurs not only melodically, but in the tonal relationships of the movements. Here the Indianapolis Quartet showed its most ravishing playing of the night. They fully revealed the inherent beauty and mystery in the score, creating ethereal dynamic contrasts, while faithfully executing everything this elaborate work demands. It was a dazzling achievement.

Aleksander Simic, cello

Tatiana Goncharova, piano

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall

Tuesday, February 25, 2020, 8 PM

By any standard of measurement, 16-year-old Austrian-born cellist Aleksander Simic (his parents are Hungarian-Serbian) made a very impressive recital debut on Wednesday in New York. Sixteen, let’s let that sink in. Although his program was conservative chronologically (all nineteenth century), it contained two demanding standard repertoire masterpieces, and two showpieces, all played with sweet tone, sufficient, sometimes awe-inspiring, technique, and an un-showy focus that is often rare in young people. Mr. Simic was ably assisted by the hyper-refined pianist Tatiana Goncharova, who was the picture of deference, providing a plush red carpet for Simic to walk on. My only reservation, aside from the short-stick used on the Steinway, was that perhaps she was too deferent, a common enough concern in cello-piano recitals. Fear of balance however, sometimes made her well-phrased contributions take a back seat to the soloist rather than sound like strands fully participating in the musical conversation. She did break out fully late in the program, to my great pleasure (see below).

The recital began with the treacherous Sonata in A minor, D. 821, the“Arpeggione.”. This work, written for a now-extinct instrument (except for museum collections), is almost always played on the cello. Poor old arpeggione, a six-stringed instrument, fretted like a guitar but bowed like a cello. The fear in modern cello performances (which have four strings) is that the work will become a strenuous acrobatic display; its reaches into the upper notes of the instrument are relentless, yet they must sound lyrical and ‘easy.’ Mr. Simic gave us no cause for apprehension—in fact, his handling of the high registers was assured all evening. The lyricism so crucial to this work’s success was revealed so sensitively, my only concern was that there was a certain emotional distance, it seemed almost too reserved, though lovely.

Next came one of Paganini’s ‘trick’ showpieces, originally for violin. The legend dates back to Paganini’s manic touring in early nineteenth century Europe. He’d play so violently that he’d break one of his strings, continue the recital with just three strings, break another one, continue with two, then break that one and continue with just one string. Of course, all this was figured out way ahead of time, but nonetheless impressive. The Variations on One String on a theme from Rossini’s Mosè in Egitto is that piece, and it still stuns when given a passionate run-through on the cello. Here, Mr. Simic showed his ebullience, both in the lyric line and the busy interrupting cadenzas (a quality we would hear later in the program as well). The lavishly printed and photographed program that was distributed didn’t even mention the ‘one-string’ part of the title, and I’m not sure the nearly sold-out audience even realized what an achievement they were hearing.

After intermission, the duo returned with Brahms’ great Cello Sonata No.1 in E Minor, Op. 38, the fruit of his incessant study of baroque counterpoint, in this case Bach’s magisterial summation: Die Kunst der Fuge. The first and third of the three movements are based on permutations of themes from it. (There was a destroyed Adagio movement at one point, what a loss!) Here Mr. Simic stepped fully into the music, and he showed a great deal more emotional vividness (his eyes also traveled a bit more toward the score, which he had ignored completely in the first half). His sound, it was very good to note, changed and became much more appropriately muscular. In the first movement, I wished for more left-hand sound from Ms. Goncharova (see above), as it contains a lot of motivic content, but in the difficult fugal finale, both players really “let it rip,” providing the most satisfying combination of the evening.

Then came the final showstopper, David Popper’s Hungarian Rhapsody, Op. 68. Any number of pianists would recognize at least two of its themes, they served Liszt well in his own Hungarian Rhapsodies. Nowadays it is “politically correct” to note that this genre of work bears no resemblance to authentic Romany music; they are westernized versions, music played by strolling “gypsy” violinists in cafes, using some stereotyped gestures and melodies. But why let that get in the way of our enjoyment, especially when they’re in the hands of such a gifted player as Mr. Simic? Here, he let his impish side come out a bit more (though his focus and concentration never called attention to himself), and the work certainly thrives when the player “winks” at the audience as if to say: “See, not only can I do that, I just did it.” The alternations of lassu and fris, interspersed with crazily florid cadenzas testing every harmonic, were spooled out in masterly fashion. The hall went wild, and deservedly so.

Mr. Simic and Ms. Goncharova favored us with Elgar’s Salut d’amour (another violin original), which was sweetly played. He is sixteen after all, and I suspect that there will be more, shall we say, ‘subtext’ to a morceau like this as he grows and matures. A very impressive player though, also photogenic (which is important), and definitely a “rising star.”

Alexei Tartakovsky, piano

Baisley Powell Elebash Recital Hall, The Graduate Center, CUNY, New York, NY

February 24, 2020

Pianist Alexei Tartakovsky appeared at Baisley Powell Elebash Recital Hall at the CUNY Graduate Center as part of the Ph.D/D.M.A. Programs in Music on February 24, 2020. He is currently pursuing his doctorate with Richard Goode at CUNY Graduate Center, where he was awarded the Graduate Center Fellowship.

Mr. Tartakovsky has an impressive list of accomplishments that the reader can learn more about by visiting https://www.atartakovsky.com/. His program was all twenty-four of Chopin’s Op. 28 Preludes, Einojuhani Rautavaara’s Passionale, and Schubert’s Sonata in B-flat major, D. 960.

The first half consisted of the Chopin. These Preludes have loomed large in this reviewer’s personal and professional life, and consequently, some rather strong opinions have developed about how these pieces should be played. (The reader might already be thinking that my objectivity is compromised, but rest assured I do not claim to own the truth, only my truth.)

Mr. Tartakovsky’s excellent program notes about the Preludes quote Schumann (some rather backhanded compliments), and Liszt (more generous praise). I would like to add two more. Musicologist Henry Finck said that, “if all piano music in the world were to be destroyed, excepting one collection, my vote should be cast for Chopin’s Preludes.” Chopin biographer Jeremy Nicholas writes that, “Even on their own, the 24 Preludes would have ensured Chopin’s claim to immortality.”

With all that being said, let’s get to it. Mr. Tartakovsky’s conception of the preludes is to treat the set as a single work with (as he states in his notes) “a clear beginning, middle, and end.” I am in general agreement with this concept, even if there is dispute over whether this was Chopin’s actual intent. It is a thoughtful, intelligent approach, and given Mr. Tartakovsky’s consistency in overall style, it also was compelling. That style was one of avoidance of any overt emotion or any exaggerated romanticism, basically “playing it straight.” For this listener, it struck me as overly cautious. It is certainly not a question a technique, as Mr. Tartakovsky has more than enough firepower to handle these works, and his accuracy was outstanding. I’m not wanting hyper-exaggerated emoting, but a little more exploration of emotional depth in a few preludes (notably the E minor, the F# major, and the A-flat major). To be fair, the G major and C# minor were exquisitely done, the D-flat major “Raindrop” had a surprising freshness of quality for such a well-known work, and the B-flat minor (which has caused innumerable pianists to crash and burn as they flew off the rails catastrophically) was lightning fast with each note clearly articulated – truly exceptional. Honorable mentions go to the E-flat major (another ferociously difficult prelude that has snuffed out the dreams of many a pianist), and the final Prelude in D minor. After the last of the three hammer blows on the low D, the audience gave Mr. Tartakovsky a standing ovation.

After intermission, Mr. Tartakovsky opened with Passionale, written in 2003 by Finnish composer Einojuhani Rautavaara. This listener is an admirer of Rautavaara’s works, so it was a wonderful bonus to hear this piece. Rautavaara is “modern” (for lack of a better term) in his harmonic language, but always remains highly accessible to the listener. Passionale is the modern Chopin or Liszt in its romantic conception, but the sound is unmistakably Rautavaara. Mr. Tartakovsky really let loose and “went for it” in a fantastic performance. It was easily the favorite of the night for this listener.

After the Passionale, Mr. Tartakovsky returned to the thoughtful, intellectual side with Schubert’s Sonata in B-flat major, D. 960. Written in the last year of Schubert’s life (1828), it was not published until ten years after the composer’s death. Mr. Tartakovsky writes in his notes that “one can’t help but feel that this sonata is Schubert’s epitaph to himself,” which is not altogether without reason. Thematic material and ideas from previous works abound throughout. Mr. Tartakovsky’s artistry was on full display here. The long lines and autumnal qualities that are much more difficult to render effectively than many realize were done with a natural, organic quality. It’s another thing to keep the listener involved in this very long sonata, but the audience was held in rapt attention, which is no mean feat. I have observed much restlessness from listeners in other performances (by “big name” artists), and that was not the case here. Mr. Tartakovsky can be proud of his superb playing. The audience rewarded him with a loud and extended standing ovation.

Mr. Tartakovsky offered two encores, Schubert’s Liebesbotschaft arranged by Liszt and Chopin’s Waltz in A-flat major, Op. 34. No.1, both played with graceful elegance.

Kara Mulder, soprano

Anna Shelest, piano

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

February 23, 2020

On the afternoon of February 23, 2020, soprano Kara Mulder gave her solo debut at Carnegie Hall as the Alexander and Buono Competitions’ 2019 Grand Prize Winner. She presented a program with songs from Richard Strauss, Debussy, Rachmaninoff, Weill, and Gershwin, and Puccini arias from La Bohème and Madama Butterfly. Pianist Anna Shelest (a past A&B prize winner) was Ms. Mulder’s excellent collaborator.

Barry Alexander and Cosmo Buono welcomed the audience to the concert. Mr. Alexander spoke of the mission of Alexander and Buono (alexanderbuono.com) and served as a musical docent. He spoke of the composers, the works, and shared anecdotes from the stage, expressing his unabashed admiration for Ms. Mulder and Ms. Shelest. Mr. Alexander is a gifted speaker with a definite dramatic flair. While this listener would have preferred to read notes rather than to hear them, it was very well received by the audience and did add context to the excellent performances. The program booklet was of keepsake quality, in sharp contrast to the missing programs and cheaply produced photocopies that are all too frequent these days. It speaks of a first-class organization that is committed to excellence in not only musical content, but in the marketing and presentation as well.

This reviewer has had the pleasure of hearing both Ms. Mulder and Ms. Shelest last year. Interested readers can read that review by clicking the following link: Winners of the Barry Alexander International Vocal Competition.

At the risk of repeating myself, Ms. Mulder is outstanding not only in her singing, but in her exceptional dramatic skill. I’m fairly certain that she has invested much thought into her acting, but it all appears completely spontaneous, which is quite remarkable. There are many fine singers who are, to be frank, rather poor at projecting any natural movements or expressions. Some might find my admiration out of place for the non-musical aspect, but it is all part and parcel of the performance.

I’m not going to discuss all twenty-three (!) songs/arias that Ms. Mulder presented. Rather, I’m going to consider them as sets by the individual composers and rank them, in reverse order of my preferences. Please note this is not to say that I disliked or had major issues with any of the selections.

For those who must know the entire program: Richard Strauss- Zueignung, Op 10, No.1; Allerseelen Op. 10, No. 8; Ständchen, Op.17, No.2; Cäcilie” Op. 27 No. 2; Morgen!, Op 27, No. 4

Claude Debussy- Ariettes oubliées 1.”Le vent dans la plaine suspend son haleine”: C’est l’extase langoureuse; 2.”Il pleut doucement sur la ville”: Il pleure dans mon cœur comme il pleut sur la ville; 3.”Le rossignol qui, du haut d’une branche”: L’ombre des arbres dans la rivière embrumée; 4.Paysages belges. Chevaux de bois”: Tournez, tournez, bons chevaux de bois; 5.”Aquarelles I. Green”: Voici des fruits, des fleurs, des feuilles; 6.”Aquarelles II. Spleen”: Les roses étaient toutes rouges

Sergei Rachmaninoff, Six Songs, Op. 38 -1.In my Garden at Night ; 2.To Her; 3.Daisies; 4.The Pied Piper; 5. A Dream; 6. A-oo!”

Kurt Weill Foolish Heart; George Gershwin Maybe; S’wonderful

Giacomo Puccini- “Si, mi chiamano Mimi,” “Donde lieta usci,” from La bohème; “Un bel di vedremo,” from Madama Butterfly

Ms. Shelest offered three pieces from Cécile Chaminade to start the second half. They were the Air de Ballet in B-flat major, Op. 37, and the Automne and Scherzo from the Concert Etudes, Op. 36. Ms. Shelest is known for her advocacy of female composers, and her commitment was front and center in as she wowed the audience in her passionate performance. As Mr. Alexander said to the audience after they gave Ms. Shelest a standing ovation, “I told you so!” Yes, sir, you certainly did!

Now, on to the vocal selections. The Weill/Gershwin songs highlighted Ms. Mulder’s versatility in lighter fare, which she did with style. The Puccini arias were full of both innocence and heartbreak, as they should be. They are mandatory for any soprano, and Ms. Mulder presented her bona fides with polish. The Strauss songs are filled with challenges that push even the most technically assured singer to the limit. One hearing these songs for the first time would not have had a clue about that, as Ms. Mulder made such short work of them. They were breathtaking. The Debussy songs were exquisite as well, as Ms. Mulder is a colorist who captures their sensuousness without drenching it in perfume.

It was the Rachmaninoff songs, though, that were this listener’s favorites. While Ms. Mulder excels in all she sings, it seems she has a special affinity for the Slavic (see the earlier review for another instance of this). While Rachmaninoff’s genius for song is indisputable, it still requires a gifted artist to bring that genius out to its fullest. Ms. Mulder is that artist. This listener’s favorite of this set was the one that, for Rachmaninoff, was unusually playful and whimsical, The Pied Piper. Ms. Mulder projected a cocky swagger, complete with a wink at the end, which was delightfully irreverent. One could not help but smile!

The large audience rewarded Ms. Mulder and Ms. Shelest with a standing ovation, completed with admiring fans presenting them with flowers. The sky is the limit for Ms. Mulder, and with the support of Alexander and Buono she has every chance of realizing her dreams.

Ian Hobson, piano

SubCulture, New York, NY

February 19, 2020

Fantasy Pieces

Fantasiestücke, Op. 111

Fantasiestücke, Op. 12

Fantasia in C, Op. 17

Ian Hobson is a heroic completist. I admire the intellectual curiosity and physical stamina it takes to produce such investigations, for they allow us to perceive the larger context of a composer’s work, what I like to call the genetic resemblance among the works, what amounts to the personal fingerprint or style of that artist, possessed by no other.

Mr. Hobson kicked off his epic series exploring the complete solo piano music and piano-based chamber music of Robert Schumann on February 19th with an evening of ‘fantasy’ titled pieces. (Yes, I wish Schumann’s lieder were included in this series.) The word fantasie in German implies a free flight of the imagination, and this concept fueled so much of Schumann’s output, including pieces that don’t even bear such a title overtly. Interestingly, the pieces called fantasien are some of the most cogently structured in Schumann’s total oeuvre, usually three part A-B-A forms, often with codas of short or medium length.

Some general qualities of Hobson’s performance on this occasion, before I turn to details: He revealed the strength and architecture of every piece, through an unfussy approach. He didn’t automatically slow down the end of every phrase. He didn’t ‘perfume’ the music with a certain Victorian idea of ‘poetry.’ He didn’t treat the music like a museum piece, rather he plunged in with a headlong high energy that put things together.

I think Mr. Hobson performed as Master Raro, the third of Schumann’s personalities and the one who gets the least attention. Master Raro was the mediator between Florestan, the fiery impetuous soul, and Eusebius, the dreamy one. I sensed that Hobson identified with Florestan more, but then he’d do something so breathtaking, some little detail, often in a coda, that was sheer magic.

The recital began with the unjustly neglected late-period Fantasiestücke, Op. 111. Can we once and for all do away with the idea that late-period Schumann is the product of a feeble and disordered mind? The mind was doubtless wracked by mental illness, but it was far from feeble. These three pieces form an arch of sorts, with the most poignant one in the middle. The outer two are both in C minor, and they storm away, with distant references to Schumann’s detailed study of baroque counterpoint. In the middle work, which I regard as Schubert’s ‘seventh’ Moment Musical, the outer ‘A’ sections even resemble Schubert’s second Moment, with the same key, A-flat, and similar melodic rise and fall within a restricted compass. The reverie is interrupted by a contrasting agitated section that seems to reintroduce the first piece. Peace is regained however, and Mr. Hobson was perfect in portraying the calm resolution.

Mr. Hobson was at his finest in the large set of Fantasiestücke, Op. 12. Most of these are well-known, ‘or are they?’ When music becomes iconic, there is a danger of not really listening after the first few notes are played. We think we’re plugged in, but we’re really playing our own soundtrack. Mr. Hobson did not allow such an automatic reaction. Through a combination of strength and delicacy, he showed perhaps what the music sounded like two hundred years ago, when Clara Schumann was constantly begging Robert to compose something ‘a bit less difficult’ for her audiences to grasp.

Mr. Hobson’s rendition allowed me to perceive the frightful toll of undiagnosed bipolar illness, the sudden, violent contrasts between manic energy, unbounded creative confidence, followed by the horrifying plunges into dark chasms of depression from which one thinks one will never emerge. The headlong abandon with which Hobson launched into the Traumeswirren (Dream-Confusions) was truly terrifying and well worth the few dropped notes here or there. Again, I noticed all the codas, which simply melted into reflective contentment. What an achievement!

After a brief intermission came the Fantasie, Op. 17, omnipresent on so many recitals. This work was initially projected as part of the fund-raising effort for a Beethoven monument in Bonn, with Franz Liszt (dedicatee of the work) the prime instigator. The movements once had programmatic titles, and a prominent quotation from Beethoven’s An die ferne Geliebte song cycle (To the Distant Beloved) forms the conclusion to the first movement (once also found at the end of the third movement, which Mr. Hobson I think wisely chose not to play—he stuck to the traditional ending).

Since Schumann and Clara were forbidden by her father to see each other, he communicated with her through music that was mailed, often containing the famous Clara cipher, usually six descending notes. The Fantasie is preceded by an epigram from Schlegel: “Through all the tones resounding/In the many-colored dream of life/A softer tone sounds/For the one who knows secretly how to listen.” Again, the coded conversation is stunning.

Mr. Hobson’s approach was brisk and orchestral. The fearsome coda to the second movement’s march almost got away from him, but the sense of risk was palpably worth it. Many virtuosi won’t end an entire program with the work, because of the quiet ending. Thank goodness Mr. Hobson can’t be bothered with such silliness. He returned us to the dream-state we need, and now we can’t wait to hear the sequel(s) of his devotion to the rest of Schumann.

Mr. Hobson favored his appreciative audience with an encore by Chopin that was nicknamed by Schumann “The Aeolian Harp” (Etude Op. 25, No. 1), referring to a mythical Greek instrument played by the wind, whose modulations depended on the strength of the breeze. Recall what Schumann’s dreamy side, Eusebius, said about Chopin in 1831: “Hat’s off, gentlemen! A genius!” regarding the latter’s variations on Mozart’s “La ci darem la mano” for piano and orchestra.

Jonathan Griffith, DCINY Artistic Director and Principal Conductor

Featuring Distinguished Concerts Orchestra and Distinguished Concerts Singers International

Michael Adelson, DCINY Assistant Artistic Director and Conductor

Debra Cook, Soprano

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

Sunday, February 16, 2020

Perpetual Light was the apt title for this Sunday’s concert presented by Distinguished Concerts International New York, and, though the title presumably refers to the Lux Aeterna finale of the John Rutter Requiem which made up this concert’s second half, the title suits DCINY’s uplifting programming overall. The DCINY organization occupies a unique position in New York concert life by drawing together singers from all over the world for choral and orchestral concerts, and their performances consistently radiate fellowship and joy in music-making. This weekend the large combined forces included choruses from Alabama, California, Illinois, Indiana, North Carolina, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Virginia, and, as the program states, “individual singers from around the globe.” In addition to the much-loved Rutter work, the concert included shorter works by Rain Worthington, Mark John McEnroe, Arthur Gottschalk, and Sergio Cervetti before intermission.

It should be noted that all the works on the first half were chosen by Croatian-based conductor Miran Vaupotić, who we were told could not be present to conduct them due to visa issues. Fortunately, conductor Michael Adelson, the Assistant Artistic Director of DCINY since 2019, was able to step in as a replacement, and he led the orchestra with precision and assurance. The works chosen happened to be in somewhat accessible contemporary styles overall, but that is not to say that they were without challenges of balance, rhythm, and synchronization. Thankfully all involved were up to the demands, as one has come to expect from this orchestra.

Still Motion by Rain Worthington (b. 1949) set a tone of anticipation for the program’s opener. Described by the composer as “a mix of edgy energy, reflective sadness and strength of conviction” the work creates a hypnotic effect through repeated motives, particularly in the percussion parts (including vibraphone and tam-tam). The ever-reliable Distinguished Concerts Orchestra played it with a sense of expectant drama, and the composer was present to take a bow.

Next up were two symphonic pieces, Dance of the Pagans and Storm Clouds Approaching, by Mark John McEncroe (b. 1947). One reads in the program notes that that these two pieces were orchestrations of works written for piano, taken from Mr. McEnroe’s volumes 2 and 3 of Musical Images for Piano: Reflections & Recollections Series. The first piece, fittingly folk-like in its simplistic symmetrical phrases and repeated melodic patterns, was brought to life by the deft orchestrator’s hand of Mark J. Saliba, who perhaps ought to have been given shared billing, beyond the mention in the program notes. The second piece, moodier and more complex, seemed to present more challenges in terms of expressiveness and ensemble but was handled well by conductor and orchestra alike. The composer enjoyed a bow for each piece.

Music of Gottschalk came next, but not Louis Moreau Gottschalk (as one assumed on first glance at the DCINY website) but Arthur Gottschalk (b. 1952). We heard Tebe Boga, a solemn religious work set to a text roughly the equivalent to the Latin Te Deum but in Old Slavonic, as the work was commissioned for the Siberian State Orchestra and Choir by conductor Vladimir Lande. Composed in 2018 for orchestra, choir, and solo bass-baritone, it was adapted here for just bass-baritone and orchestra, and the intrepid soloist was Timothy Jones, who handled the entire text with compelling involvement and sure delivery. It was fascinating music by a composer who clearly knows his craft. It was originally intended to be interpolated into performances of the same composer’s Requiem: For the Living, so perhaps DCINY will present that work at some point.

Closing the first half were two atmospheric movements from the opera Elegy for A Prince by  Sergio Cervetti (b. 1940). The opera is based on Oscar Wilde’s The Happy Prince, and we heard Scenes 1 and 9, from Act II. The role of Swallow (and later Match-Girl) was sung by soprano Megan Weston, whose sweetness of sound worked in contrast in Scene 1 with the projected anguish of excellent bass-baritone Luis Alejandro Orozco as a Prince-turned-statue. Ms. Weston was even more remarkable in Scene 9, her high notes soaring in the music’s beautiful evocations of Swallow’s descent from heaven. Tenor Quinn Bernegger, in the role of Young Writer, then summed up the opera’s themes of compassion and benevolence, concluding with nobility the scene and the first half of this concert.

John Rutter’s much-loved Requiem closed the program under the direction now of Jonathan Griffith, Artistic Director and Principal Conductor of DCINY. Composed in the relatively consolatory spirit of Fauré’s Requiem, it omits the traditional Dies Irae, and its movements of meditation and comfort outbalance the darker sections. As a British composer, Rutter also inserts two completely English movements, Out of the Deep and The Lord is My Shepherd (the second and sixth of the overall seven-movement “arch”). This music emerged in its full glory, with the multiple choruses blending quite well (and their behind-the-scenes leaders taking a well-deserved bow afterwards). The final Lux Aeterna was sheer heaven, with partial thanks to soprano soloist Debra Cook, who sang with a covered, velvety quality in her high registers, never shrill or harsh and with true intonation. She was also superb in the Pie Jesu. Outstanding as well was principal cellist Elizabeth Mikhael in the second movement Out of the Deep, beautifully resonant both in her opening solo and as the cello part was interwoven with chorus and orchestra. Kudos to all – and to DCINY for a remarkable achievement.

Rachel Eve Holmes, Soprano

Pedro Carreras, Tenor; Catherine Giel, Piano

Weill Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

February 12th, 2020

This was a delightful evening of music from opera and American musical theater with three splendid artists.

Rachel Eve Holmes has performed over thirty leading operatic and musical theater roles with many companies and orchestras all over the country. A few of the competitions she has won are the 2019 Utah Philharmonic Orchestra Concerto Competition, the 2018 Concert Artists International Virtuoso Competition, the 2016 Atlanta Musical Clubs Competition, the 2015 Schubert Club Competition, and the 2011 Weill Hall Carnegie Hall Young Musicians Concert Competition. Her voice radiates power and confidence.

Pedro Carreras, a native of Miami, is particularly active, professionally, in the Atlanta area. He performs in opera, classical and music theater genres, and is an Adjunct Professor of Voice at Reinhardt University in Waleska, Georgia. There is real lyricism and sensitivity in his singing.  Pianist Catherine Giel was the ideal collaborative artist in this program. She was perfectly in step with the singers  at all times in terms of ensemble and balance, and her playing always matched the character of what was being sung. She is Music Director of the Capitol City Opera, and has served as accompanist, stage manager and Outreach Coordinator to the Florida State Opera. She has also been a Staff Accompanist for the Metropolitan Opera National Council auditions.

Bizet’s “Parle-moi da mere” (from Carmen) started off the evening with great energy and some delightful duo singing. The blending of voices in Mascagni’s “Cherry Duet” (L’amico Fritz) was lovely, and the languid, slow responsive section quite beautiful. The comedy in the recitativo sections of Donizetti’s “Caro elisir…Esulti pur la barbara”( L’elisir d’amore) was wonderful. One enjoyed how the singers teased, and tormented each other virtuosically! Puccini’s very individual idiom has a particular harmonic sophistication and ethos. In “Bimba dagli occhi pieni di malia” (Madama Butterfly) there was tenderness, and also an extended section of high notes which Ms. Holmes sang with ease. Verdi’s “Parigi, o cara” (La Traviata)had a joyous beginning. Later, the slow section was strong but delicate, with perfect ensemble, Ms. Giel matching the character of the vocal lines in her chords. Puccini’s “O soave fanciulla” (La bohème) concluded the first half of the program with two famous arias, the singers then walking together offstage, from where their sustained high notes could still be heard!

The second half of the program consisted of songs from Jason Robert Brown’s musical The Bridges of Madison County. This work, so different from the operatic first half, showed off other strengths of the singers. The music itself is very alert, appealing, and engaging. Some of the songs featured just Ms. Holmes or Mr. Carreras. Others included both of them. “To Build A Home,” the first song, is a travelogue across America. I was immediately impressed by Ms. Holmes’ superb English diction.”Temporarily Lost” was nostalgic, with jazzy harmonies. “What Do You Call A Man Like That?” was troubled, turbulent and, questioning. “Wondering” was searching, with a wounded, emotional quality. “The World Inside a Frame” was passionate, and had a sudden and unexpected quiet end.  “Falling Into You,” with both singers, had a dreamy nature. Ms. Holmes sang “Almost Real” operatically, with both delicacy and bitterness.  There was tenderness and intimacy in “Before and After You.” There is a section which Mr. Carreras sang without piano accompaniment after which Ms. Holmes sang more dramatically with the piano. This led directly into the next song, “One Second and A Million Miles,” which included some elaborate right hand figurations for the piano. “It All Fades Away,” about remembering a love, was filled with longing and passion. “Always Better,” the concluding song, sounded warm and contented. “Love Is Always Better” was followed by reprises of some of what we heard earlier: “You and I Are Just One Second and a Million Miles” and part of the theme from the first song.

Only after the concert did I read the synopsis of this show (an adaptation of the Robert James Waller novel, which was also the source for the 1995 Clint Eastwood/Meryl Streep movie) and learned that it is the story about a married woman’s brief affair with a man whom she meets while her family is away. She decides not to continue the relationship, but never forgets it, holding a warm remembrance of it. Did I miss out on anything, having not known the story beforehand? Perhaps just a little. But that didn’t keep me from appreciating a fine evening of wonderful, emotional and sometimes virtuosic singing.