Regina Shenderovich, piano

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

January 28, 2020

There’s a first time for everything—I’ll explain shortly. Pianist Regina Shenderovich had the inspired idea of presenting Baroque and neo-Baroque music on the same program. Three toccatas: Frescobaldi (Toccata Nona in F Major from Il secondo libro di toccata) and Froberger (Toccata II in D Minor, FbWV102, from Libro Secondo ), two predecessors of Bach, then genuine Bach (Toccata in E minor, BWV 914), followed by the complete first half of Shostakovich’s monumental Preludes and Fugues, Op. 87. Here’s the first time: In all my years as a performer, listener, and critic, I have never heard either Frescobaldi or Froberger on a piano recital! Organ recitals, yes, harpsichord yes, but piano, never. This alone signals an unusual level of curiosity in Ms. Shenderovich.

The recital took place in the rather acoustically live hall of the National Opera Center. I don’t know what was done in terms of promoting the event, but it’s a shame that more people were not in attendance to hear it—it was free. The bare-bones program listed no biographical information, so I had to Google to find out that Ms. Shenderovich was trained in Saint Petersburg (Russia), and that she has bachelor’s, master’s, and doctoral degrees in piano from Boston Conservatory, Peabody Conservatory, and University of Illinois, respectively; and that she has studied with some of the finest teachers and performers. Ms. Shenderovich dedicated her program to the memory of her grandmother.

Her innovative program was played with great commitment and more than enough technical fluidity. The massive Shostakovich group was played from score—no objection here, though I do expect greater accuracy when using the music. The recital was marred by a certain tendency to rush, or not hold long notes or rests for their full value, all of which gave the music a perfunctory quality, though I could see her emotional involvement. Ms. Shenderovich’s left hand was not fully grounded, often failing to sound, or, when it did, failing to provide needed resonant support for the treble. As I need to say so often in these pages, there was insufficient attention paid to dynamics of piano and pianissimo; though every so often Ms. Shenderovich would create a magical soft sound, contrasting with her customary boisterous approach.

The group of Baroque toccatas suffered from the left-hand issue, particularly the Bach, and there was just not enough sonic variety: after all, if we’re using the modern piano, let’s go for it. Her trills and ornaments were quite admirable, however.

It is an honor just to be in the ‘same room’ as the Shostakovich, which was inspired by his serving on the jury of the first-ever Leipzig international Bach competition, held on the 250th anniversary of Bach’s death, and was won by Tatiana Nikolaevich, to whom the works were dedicated, and who premiered them and carried them across the globe for decades.

For me, the standouts of Ms. Shenderovich’s Shostakovich were several of the Preludes: the A minor, E minor, B minor (dotted rhythms of the French overture), E major, and C-sharp minor, in which her technique and passion were best united. The C major prelude lacked the tenderness of the sarabande; its fugue should peak at a mezzo-forte. Many of the fugues were taken too fast, and lacked the laser-focused contrapuntal clarity that makes them transparent. The best fugue was the final one in G-sharp minor, whose many subject entries were audible, though still lacking enough pianissimo. The G major fugue was a close second, with its jaunty subject highlighting Ms. Shenderovich’s strengths. A majority of the fugues, as specified in the score, begin quite softly and do not increase in dynamics, often for many measures. With Ms. Shenderovich’s inflated dynamics, many of them sounded like character pieces that contained ‘some’ counterpoint, instead of the encyclopedia of twentieth-century polyphonic ingenuity that they are. (An arguable approach?)

Notwithstanding my complaints above, Ms. Shenderovich’s performance allowed me to perceive the many intricate thematic relations among the preludes and fugues, with ‘tonic-dominant-sixth scale degree’ recurring in striking fashion, not surprising in a work composed fairly quickly, out of the same laboratory of the mind that belonged to Dmitri Shostakovich. I hope that Ms. Shenderovich will continue her work with the cycle (also the second half!), refining her deep listening and ability to bring out the contrapuntal beauties while placing some competing voices on a different sonorous level, and adding that indefinable contemplative quality which reveals the inner tragedy never far from the surface in Shostakovich. She is well on the way to acquiring something our world urgently needs to hear.

Jonathan Griffith, Artistic Director and Principal Conductor

Sir Karl Jenkins, CBE, Composer-in-Residence

Iestyn Davies, countertenor; Baidar Al Basri, ethnic music vocalist; Mikhail Veselov, cello; Claudia Chapa, mezzo-soprano;  Hussein Janmohamed, Call to Prayers reciter

Special Guest: Jeff Spurgeon, WQXR Radio Personality

Distinguished Concerts Orchestra; Distinguished Concerts Singers international

Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

January 20, 2020

Sir Karl Jenkins (born 1944) is a Welsh composer who has been active in many fields of composition including rock, jazz, and advertising, as well as “serious” music. This program featured two of his major works, each of which consists of thirteen parts. The evening began with the North American premiere and, internationally, the second performance, of his Miserere: Songs of Mercy and Redemption. By contrast, the other work, The Armed Man: A Mass for Peace, is twenty years old and so popular, we were told, that it has been performed an average of twice a week ever since it was composed!

The size of Distinguished Concerts Singers International varies from performance to performance, but it seemed that on this occasion there were at least 150 to 200 singers onstage, and it was glorious to hear such a powerful vocal ensemble in this wonderful hall! The Distinguished Concerts Orchestra, founded in 2008 by Dr. Jonathan Griffith, varies from being a large group, in the Miserere, to a huge ensemble, such as filled the stage during The Armed Man. As with the chorus, the orchestra and the soloists, including a trumpeter who played from the Dress Circle in one movement of The Armed Man, were all excellent. (Unfortunately I could not find his name in the program.)

Some relevant words from the program notes about the Miserere by the composer: “Miserere: Songs of Mercy and Redemption is dedicated to all who have suffered during the tragic conflicts of the Middle East over the last 70 years. As we are only too well aware, the violence, horror and destruction have not been limited to that geo-political area…Miserere is the Latin imperative for ‘have mercy’ and is often used as a title for Psalm 51, of which the opening words are “Miserere mei, Deus” (Have mercy upon me, O God). Many composers have set this psalm to music…”

This work began with the Principium, featuring a solo by the wonderful cellist Mikhail Veselov, and evocative vocalizations by the ethnic vocal soloist Baidar Al Basri. Most of the vocal solos after that were by the excellent countertenor Iestyn Davies. The second movement, Miserere mei, Deum, was soothing and consoling, more “western sounding” than the first movement. The Ubi Caritas was warm and comforting, and the Sacramentum featured an eloquent cello solo. The sixth movement, which grew out of a unison, was based on the hymn, “When I Survey the Wondrous Cross” and had a powerful a cappella choral section. The eighth movement, Hymnus: Locus iste ,was more adventurous harmonically than what had come before, with interesting pauses between phrases. Praise, Joy and Gladness, the ninth movement, had a lively, different ethos, with perhaps an African influence, and great enthusiasm. Canendo, the tenth movement, was luxuriantly slow, a contemplation of beauty. The eleventh movement, Eli Jenkins’ Prayer and Epilogue, had a wonderfully big sound from the a cappella chorus, to which a small string ensemble was later added. Rahma (Mercy), the twelfth movement, was all but shouted out in Arabic, Hebrew, Greek and Aramaic, and featured a strong beat, a Middle Eastern flavor, and chromaticism. Contemplation and Redemption, the final movement was, in part, warm and calm, yet also somewhat edgy, with still unresolved emotional tension. The end felt like a benediction. There followed a standing ovation.

Guy Wilson has written program notes for The Armed Man: A Mass For Peace, which is clearly a classic of this type of anti-war repertoire. To quote Mr. Wilson: “The Armed Man: A Mass For Peace is the result of a special millennial commission from the Royal Armouries, and the latest in a six century-old tradition of ‘Armed Man’ masses that take the 15^th century French song, L’Homme Armé as their starting point. The theme that the Armed Man must be feared, which is the message of the song, seemed painfully relevant to the 20^th century and so the idea was born to commission a modern Armed Man Mass…The Armed Man, A Mass For Peace, received its world premiere in April 2000 at London’s Royal Albert Hall. In a rapturous performance, by turns visceral and ethereal, the Mass was ‘a fire bomb of orchestral and human voices’ (according to the London Times) and drew ‘prolonged shouts of approval from the audience’ (according to the Independent).”  Before it was performed there was a brief onstage discussion with Sir Karl, Maestro Griffith, and Jeff Spurgeon from the radio station WQXR

Screened high above the orchestra and chorus as we heard this sixty-three minute musical work, focusing on the tragedies of war, was the film, The Armed Man. The film includes video of practically every known horror of the 20^th century, including Nazis marching, war scenes, the aftermath of atrocities, the destruction of the World Trade Center, and touching scenes of relatives taking leave of their soldier sons, husbands, and fathers departing for battle. It was not clear to me if the film is usually shown together with this immense musical composition. People will have differing opinions on multi-media presentations. I could not help but wonder if encountering both at the same time may be overload, as the combined effect can all but push one over the edge emotionally. Does the film perhaps distract from the music, or the other way around? This may be a minority opinion, but I think I would prefer to hear/see them separately. Certainly, the musical score is on a monumental level.

There was great energy and enthusiasm in the first movement, which cheered me until I remembered the point of it was glorifying war. Following the Muslim call to prayer (Adhaan) came the somber Kyrie. The fourth movement, Save Me From Bloody Men, based on Psalm 56, had the male choral voices a cappella in a quasi-recitativo. The fifth movement, Sanctus,  featured the chorus and brass responding to each other with ongoing drums at the same time. In this movement the orchestra made such a gigantic sound that the chorus was, at times, all but drowned out.  The Hymn Before Action was dramatic and ominous.  In the eighth movement, Angry Flames, mezzo-soprano Claudia Chapa declaimed against the brass, and there were choral “comments.” Her voice has particularly fine low notes.  The ninth movement, Torches, had sonic eruptions, a quieter choral section, and then an explosion on the last word. The mood of the tenth movement, Agnus Dei , was one of resignation. Part of its loveliness reminded me of the Fauré Requiem. Now the Guns Have Stopped featured a major mezzo-soprano solo and tense harmonies, as if the ravages of war were still very much present, rather than past tense. The Benedictus, with a beautiful cello solo, was followed by the final movement, Better Is Peace. The big surprise, for one not familiar with this work, was that its theme was the same as that of the first movement, but here the music clamored, with equal strength, for peace, as it before had endorsed war. Brilliant! The last part of this final movement was based on a Biblical passage from Revelation. It was peaceful and chorale-like, and served as an Amen.

The composer and performers were greeted at the conclusion with great warmth and a standing ovation from the large audience.

Yi Zhong and Joseph Kingma, pianists

Yamaha Artist Services, Inc. (YASI) Piano Salon, New York, NY

Wednesday, January 8, 2020

Two pianists shared a concert this week at the Yamaha Artists Services, Inc (YASI) piano salon on Fifth Avenue: Joseph Kingma, winner of the 2017 Liszt International Piano Competition in Ohio, and Yi Zhong, a prize winner of the 2016 Los Angeles Liszt International Piano Competition. The concert was presented under the auspices of the American Liszt Society (ALS), and pianist Gila Goldstein, president of its New York/New Jersey Chapter since she founded it 1992, spoke words of introduction. She prepared the sizeable crowd for an evening of virtuosity, not exclusively by Liszt but also Rachmaninoff and composers who followed Liszt.

Yi Zhong played first, starting with two movements of Liszt’s transcription of the Berlioz Symphonie Fantastique. We heard Reveries – Passions and Un Bal. Un Bal is the better known of the two movements, and it was brilliant in Mr. Zhong’s hands, projecting charm and sweep in its lilting waltz and mounting to a bravura ending with rapid octaves, huge leaps, hand-crossings – “the works.” Mr. Zhong is a fine champion for this transcription movement, which is still relatively rarely played.

Still rarer are live piano performances of the Symphonie’s longer first movement, Reveries-Passions, and perhaps with good reason. Berlioz, as one of history’s great masters of orchestration poured much of his inspiration into the orchestral colors, and many of these are hard to capture via solo piano, not to mention at high speed while addressing balance and detail. It is rather telling that, when pianist Christopher O’Riley performed the entire fifty-minute Symphonie in New York in 2018, it was in collaboration with Basil Twist’s aquatic puppetry, ballet, lights, and tinsel. Without ample color of some sort, the high drama can descend into hokum and the piano writing into dreck. Mr. Zhong thankfully avoided that fate, but the loudness of the hall piano still dominated the experience. Mr. Zhong certainly has the pianism to tackle just about anything, but this special niche of the repertoire will call for that “je ne sais quoi.”

A bit of a sonic reprieve came with the sublime Quejas o la Maja y el Ruiseñor (The Maiden and the Nightingale) from Goyescas of Enrique Granados.  Mr. Zhong showed a genuine warmth of feeling here, which grew still more apparent in the next work, the Intermezzo No. 1 of Mexican composer Manuel Ponce (1882-1948). Ponce remains best known for guitar works, so it was refreshing to hear part of his piano output.

Mr. Zhong concluded his programmed portion with Liszt’s Hungarian Rhapsody No. 15 (Rakoczy March) in Vladimir Horowitz’s version, played with tremendous technical skill and a Horowitzian gleam. Mr. Zhong is a pianist of impressive stamina, fierce concentration, and unquestionable technical command, and these bode well for his busy performing life. He returned for an encore, a jazzy piano arrangement by Alexis Weissenberg of the charming En Avril À Paris (April in Paris) of Charles Trenet (not to be confused with Vernon Duke’s April in Paris). These Weissenberg arrangements have also been performed by Marc-André Hamelin but have only recently (late 2018-2019) been made available in a Muse Press publication (edited by Mr. Hamelin), so Mr. Zhong is surely close to the forefront of some fresh repertoire.

The second pianist of the evening was Joseph Kingma. This reviewer worried a bit that the aural saturation point had already been reached in the first half, so the prospect of hearing Liszt’s Sonetto 104 del Petrarca from Années de Pèlerinages (V. II, Italy) and the complete Thirteen Preludes Op. 32 of Rachmaninoff was daunting; any misgivings, though, were short-lived.

Mr. Kingma coaxed the listener into the music’s poetry from the very first notes of his Liszt, showing the command of a master and a composer’s insight. Though his technique emerged through the program as one which is capable of anything, it was always used in the service of the music itself.

Mr. Kingma’s Rachmaninoff Preludes were astonishingly good, each in a different way. To say that the Op. 32 set is hard to pull off in live performance is an understatement. The Preludes as a group challenge every facet of pianism and musicality (including stamina), but, beyond that, they require that an artist draw out the uniqueness of each one, lest they all become a blur for an average audience after forty minutes. It was clear that Mr. Kingma knew each piece from inside the music but could also step outside each one enough to “translate” it in a sense to his audience – a rare gift.

From the stormy virtuosity of No. 1 to the dark brooding in No. 2 with its restless undercurrent and the brisk energy of No. 3’s wintry troika ride, Mr. Kingma captured the opening three wonderfully. The elusive, shifting moods in No. 4 are unwieldy for many but were projected quite persuasively, and an ethereal transparency graced the Prelude No. 5 in G major (Moderato). If one occasionally wondered whether the pedal might be a bit sluggish (as also possibly in Sonnet 104 early on), that reservation was fleeting, and the Prelude No. 6 lived up to its Allegro appassionato designation, roiling with rapid-fire finger-work and power.

These pieces travel to interesting territory tonally (one was reminded of Shostakovich and Prokofiev in moments of the No. 7 in F major, Moderato), and just when one felt one knew every inch of Rachmaninoff’s work, Mr. Kingma rekindled the desire to relearn them all more deeply. One hopes he will record the entire set (if he hasn’t already). He has clearly delved into each one on all levels, from the broader swaths to the finer lines, colored inflections, and nuances.

The set progressed seamlessly to its close, from the fleet-fingered lightness of No. 8 to the masterful pacing of No. 9, the palpable tragedy of No. 10 in B minor, and the mercurial shifts in No. 11. Only the briefest glitch arose in No. 12 – remarkable amid such a large undertaking – and the final ponderous No. 13 (Grave) held the audience spellbound. On that subject, lest one think it was an audience of all cognoscenti, two neighboring attendees who had been audibly trying to distinguish Berlioz from Granados sat utterly transfixed and silent – an affirmation of the power of music and of Mr. Kingma’s performance.

The only distractions by the end were the bongo-like noises of the hall’s radiator, which, in view of all the acoustical technology used in this space, seemed rather ironic. Both artists deserved better, so one hopes that this problem can be resolved. Apart from such matters, congratulations are in order to all involved.

Edson Scheid, period violin

Centaur Records CRC 3735

Recorded September 4, 6, and 8, 2018 at Martin Patrych Memorial Studios, Bronx, NY

Produced and Engineered by Joseph Patrych

On Paganini’s Trail… H. W. Ernst and more, played by violinist Edson Scheid, is a 2019 release on Centaur Records that many musicians will undoubtedly want to hear for several reasons. First of all, Mr. Scheid is a superb violinist and a musician who can handle the fiendish challenges of this repertoire while finding the music in it. Without that fundamental merit, very little else would matter. Secondly, though, it is also a well curated program that promises an interesting glimpse into the world of nineteenth-century violin giant, Nicolò Paganini (1782-1840) including his Introduction and Variations on Nel cor più non mi sento, Op. 38, plus a generous helping of the music by virtuoso Heinrich Wilhelm Ernst (1812-1865) who followed him. He even followed him literally, as the liner notes tell us, renting rooms near Paganini’s to learn from his practice. As a bonus, there is a solo version of Mozart’s Rondo from the Duo in G Major for Violin and Viola, KV 423, crafted by Mr. Scheid himself with techniques that Paganini and Ernst pioneered to simulate multiple instruments. Finally, it is of interest that the entire program is listed as being played on a “period violin” – and one is hard pressed to find other (if any) recordings of these works billed as such.

Most classical music fans these days are familiar with “historically informed performances” (HIP) of Baroque and early Classical music (albeit with mixed responses), but nineteenth-century ones are a different matter altogether. For performance practice studies to creep so close to the present feels almost like an archaeological dig in one’s own closet. Many techniques and varieties of expressiveness from the Romantic era are alive and well today, and quite a few of us musicians (several on staff at New York Concert Review) had teachers who studied with musicians from the nineteenth century.  It is natural to ask: what is now considered to define a nineteenth-century “period” violin or violinist?

The liner notes mention that Ernst and Paganini have rarely (if ever) been played on “a period instrument with gut strings and without a shoulder rest.” Apart from the strings and shoulder rest issues, we are not told the make of Mr. Scheid’s instrument or bow (which would be of interest chiefly because of the CD’s billing as “period violin”). We do know that Paganini himself played an Amati and after he lost that, a Guarneri del Gesu (an exact Vuillaume replica of which is played today by a noted violinist who is not part of any historic movement). Ernst himself played a Stradivarius, as do quite a few fortunate artists today, and it seems that the question of luthiers may not to be central to historic fidelity issues – but one is still curious because of the cover words, “period violin.”

One is left assuming that the string type and absence of shoulder rest may be central, and they are certainly important.  Gut strings, often described as providing more complex timbres and overtones, almost human-sounding, were largely replaced by synthetic and metal ones in the twentieth century, before the HIP movement really blossomed, though a number of twentieth-century giants – including Heifetz, Milstein, and Rosand – continued to favor them at least for one or two of the four strings. As for the shoulder rest or absence of it, it can affect shifts and technique overall (and depending how big it is even the resonance), but there seem to have been too many approaches to this (sponges, pads, etc.) to allow true historic codifying.

Beyond the abovementioned issues, what Mr. Scheid links to the Paganini-Ernst “period” are performance elements, and he cites two, including more sparing use of vibrato and the greater use of portamento or slides (though there have been historically differing views on the latter as well). Some violinists assert that gut strings feel more pliable, facilitating some of that portamento gliding, so one aspect can relate to the next – but back to the music itself, lest one get lost in jargon.

The disc starts with music of Ernst. Apart from two very famous Ernst pieces, including the Variations on the Last Rose of Summer and the transcription of Schubert’s Erlkönig (both included here), much of Ernst’s output is still relatively underplayed, so it is great to have all Six Polyphonic Studies here (the last being the Last Rose of Summer Variations).  Granted, there have been fantastic performances of several Ernst works by Midori, Hillary Hahn, and others, and there have also been notable collections since the turn of the millennium, including a 2008 CD of Ilya Gringolts and Ashley Wass on Hyperion and a complete Ernst cycle with Sherban Lupu and Ian Hobson on Toccata Classics (with its final Volume Six just released in 2019); the elements of curation and historical context, though, set Mr. Scheid’s album apart.

As for the playing, Mr. Scheid’s is consistently virtuosic, as it would have to be to navigate this repertoire. Mr. Scheid holds degrees from the Universität Mozarteum in Salzburg, the Yale School of Music, and the Juilliard School, where he was a two-time winner of the Historical Performance Concerto Competition, and he has aptly been described by the Boston Musical Intelligencer as “both musically and technically one of the most assured and accomplished of today’s younger period violinists.” Beyond this, he is especially adept at coaxing warm and multicolored tones from the gut strings of his violin, and he could probably convert the world’s many historic performance cynics into believers.

The first of Ernst’s Polyphonic Studies (Rondino Scherzo- Con Spirito) has one marveling at how a single violin handles music that would keep even a pianist quite busy. There is a test element at work here – these studies are like Paganini Caprices on steroids – but thanks to Mr. Scheid’s artful touch, the pyrotechnics don’t grow tiresome.  The profusion of double-stops (and triple and quadruple – one loses track) can require a bit of beat-stretching, but that stretching never becomes obnoxious in Mr. Scheidt’s hands. The Study No. 2 (marked Con Grazia) is playful, almost coquettish, and the Study No. 3 (Terzetto – Allegro moderato e tranquillo) is imbued with a wistful expressivity. On that topic, the more intimate selections are maximized by beautifully reverberant recording by producer and engineer Joseph Patrych of the Martin Patrych Memorial Studio.

The Study No. 4 (Allegro Risoluto) opens with dizzying speed, and the deeper sound that Mr. Scheid achieves in one register against gossamer arpeggiations in others highlights well the different tiers of sound in a fascinating way (again perhaps with some thanks to those gut strings). The Study No. 5 (Air de Ballet) may be the trickiest to enjoy, as the multiple challenges are simply impossible to downplay.  Mr. Scheid handles all of them amazingly, but the acrobatic elements seem intended to delight audiences in live performance, in which one could watch the dazzling “ballet.” Close-your-eyes listening fare this Air is not; the Study No. 6, though, the Last Rose of Summer Variations, lives up to its reputation as virtuosity with a soulful core. The slides or portamenti are indeed more recognizably profuse here than one hears in other performances, but they work well. As for the wildly difficult variations, it would seem the height of gall to criticize the wizardry of anyone able to pull them off. What might induce groans from fine violinists is given an almost “tossed off” feeling here – so bravo!

Ernst’s Grand Caprice for Solo Violin (on Schubert’s Erlkönig) follows chillingly. Its relentless repeated notes, and the hair-raising subject matter behind them (the story of a death ride from Goethe via Schubert), are all fodder for an exciting performance, and that is what we have, with an edge-of-seat suspense.

Only after all of the above Ernst does the CD proceed from “Paganini’s trail” to some actual Paganini, with the latter’s Introduction and Variations on Nel cor più non mi sento, Op. 38. Here the portamenti are profuse and exaggerated to the point where they are almost comical, but that may be part of the point of such over-the-top virtuosity, stagy echoes and all – to bring a smile, while dazzling with bouncing bow, stratospheric range, and endless surprises. Mr. Scheid plays this music brilliantly.

The final work on the CD, Mozart’s Rondo from the Duo in G Major for Violin and Viola, KV 423, caps off the CD and is a delight. While the average listener will enjoy it for the lightness and spirit achieved, the more experienced violin aficionados will enjoy marveling at the techniques employed to simulate two string instruments on just one. Moments here where one senses some unconventional pitch variations simply make the experience feel more live.

All in all, this disc is an admirable and noteworthy new release, which violinists will want to own and many will enjoy.

Shiqi Zhong, Percussion

Misha Piatigorsky, Piano

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

 December 27, 2019

Well, here’s something I never thought would happen during that strange week between Christmas Day and New Year’s Day: I attend a percussion recital and am moved to tears by its sheer beauty and excellence.

The prodigious young Chinese multi-percussionist Shiqi Zhong displayed not only sovereign technical mastery on a dizzying array of instruments, but he created a total performance environment through the use of visual light projections on the rear wall of the recital hall, pre-recorded sounds (many specified by their respective composers), and moody low lighting. All these conspired to immerse the listener in a world as concentrated as the performer was. I often felt as though I was witnessing a high priest summoning a realm inaccessible to mere mortals. The whole event was given in a very stylish way.

As if to defy expectation, the very first piece on the program, a world premiere commissioned by Mr. Zhong from Lu Wang called Up Kind as Water involved no playing of any percussion instrument. Mr. Zhong simply moved his hands in choreographed shapes and rhythms, and haunting patterns of light and sound were generated by the movements. This set the tone for the inventive evening.

Mr. Zhong’s technical resources appear limitless, ranging from furious energy, when required, to ethereal delicacy. His independence of hands is unbelievable; and he has a certain meditative humility, often facing upstage when not playing, seeming to contemplate something within.

He then gave a blistering account of a percussion “classic,” if one may use that word: John Psathas’ One Study One Summary. The etude portion, with its motoric textures was mesmerizing, dissolving into the more lyrical “summary.” By the way, if you’ve never attended a percussion recital, you don’t know that it is in fact possible to phrase and sing on these instruments in the way countless generations of piano teachers have strived to instill in their students while de-emphasizing the percussive nature of the piano. It’s quite ironic.

The second world premiere, another commission by Mr.  Zhong, was Heng Liu’s When the Sun Goes Down, a beautiful meditation on sunset, on light passing into darkness. The “mere” catalog of instruments played was: bass drum, djembe, congas, bongos, doumbek, shaker, windchimes, bells, and splash cymbals.

Next came a more “user-friendly” set, involving Zhong’s assisting artist, pianist Misha Piatigorsky, who is the grand-nephew of that Piatigorsky, famed cellist Gregor. Blues, tango, and a unique fusion of the sonorities of the various percussion instruments with the sound of a concert grand piano made for an exciting romp, especially with the ferocious energy summoned by Mr. Piatigorsky in the attraction/repulsion of the Milonga, with its references to Piazzolla. The two players were in perfect synchronization, to say the least, and their blend was unreal.

After intermission came the largest work, again another “classic”: Per Nørgård’s I-Ching, which refers to the thousands of years old “Book of Changes,” a repertoire of sixty-four archetypal combinations of three solid or dashed lines that represent “everything” real, metaphorical, spiritual, and universal. The book was highly valued by Carl Jung in his therapeutic system. There are four sections in the work, which begins with the elemental fury of universal energies and takes us on a journey to calmer material before returning to cataclysm. The stage was absolutely full, with every type of percussion instrument, some that I had never seen before. Mr. Zhong changed into a gorgeous Chinese long garment for this performance.  He finished the work, and the evening, with a final blow on the large gong, which was saved for this one moment only. It was a truly hypnotic evening.

Pianists Antoni Kleczek, Ukki Sachedina, Sua Lee, Katelyn Vahala, Tianle Chen,

Bruno Walter Auditorium at Lincoln Center, New York, NY

 December 8, 2019

It is always a revelatory experience to hear the winners of the Rosalyn Tureck International Bach Competitions (TIBC), as this reviewer has done numerous times, and this year’s edition, the sixth, was no exception. The TIBC 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 the piano competitions began in 2008 (now in odd-numbered years, but having taken place 2008, 2010, 2013, 2015, 2017, and 2019). Each event is an enormous undertaking, superbly organized by the dynamic and elegant Ms. Tatz, and each draws an international jury and outstanding international participants (now ranging from ages 8-28). Focusing on Bach, but by no means exclusively Bach, the TIBC events have selected some stellar pianists, and its winners are lighting up the stages worldwide.

Thanks to the abundance of J. S. Bach’s output, there was a dizzying array of categories for awards (one counted 8 by genre, plus four additional prize categories). On Sunday we heard the five winners. Antoni Kleczek (USA) won in Category 2 (Inventions, Sinfonias, Duets) and shared the Contemporary Music Award. Ukki Sachedina (USA) won in Category 3 (Preludes and Fugues). Sua Lee (Korea) won in Category 4A (English Suites, French Suites, and Partitas 1,3), and Katelyn Vahala won in Category 4B (Partitas 2,4,5,6, and French Overture), as well as sharing the Contemporary Music Award. The winner in Category 7 (Recital) and Category 8 (The Goldberg Variations) was Tianle Chen (China).

Tianle Chen ( winner of the Recital, 7th Category, and the Goldberg Variations, 8th Category.)

As with many artistic endeavors, a piano competition needs backing, and this one has drawn the support (among others) of pianistic luminary Evgeny Kissin, for whom TIBC’s Evgeny Kissin/Steinway and Sons Recital Grand Prize is named. This year, that Kissin Prize was not awarded, not because some high level was not reached, it was explained, but because the voting for that prize must be unanimous, and it was not.  Other prizes not awarded included Category 5 (Various Works), Category 6 (Chromatic Fantasy and Fugue, Italian Concerto, Sonatas), and the award to the Outstanding Competitor from the Juilliard School.  On the subject of luminaries, though, the Kern Foundation “Aspiration” (named for the formidable pianist Olga Kern) offered the Aspiration Foundation Award which was won by Antoni Kleczek, the afternoon’s youngest performer at age thirteen.

Antoni Kleczek opened the winners’ recital with a masterful performance of Five Bagatelles (1994) by Carl Vine (b. 1954). The Five Bagatelles are also known as Threnody, after the fifth Bagatelle, which is entitled Threnody (for all of the innocent victims). Carl Vine composed the set in a way that embraces a variety of styles, and it was thus an ideal vehicle to reflect a performer’s range. The first piece, marked Darkly, opens with an eerie feeling of foreboding, and Mr. Kleczek captured this mood with complete immersion. The second piece, marked leggiero e legato, pits driving eighths and sixteenths below longer notes in the treble phrases, and it is a digital test, in a way, to ensure that the tops emerge clearly over the rapid finger-work – this pianist was more than up to the task. The third movement, the set’s slow soulful centerpiece, was beautifully introspective in the rendition of this young musician. The fourth jazzy piece had just the right swing to it, giving the set a brief lightness, and the fifth, a haunting bell-like lament, showed again that this young pianist possesses a musical maturity far beyond his years.

Anthoni Kleczek- winner of Second category inventions / symphonias,
Winner of the Olga Kern AspirationAward, and winner of the Contemporary Award.

The second pianist was Ukki Sachedina, playing Felix Mendelssohn’s Prelude and Fugue in E minor op 35. no 1 – as Mendelssohn’s Preludes and Fugues are allowed in Category 3 in combination with Bach’s own. Mr. Sachedina gave this Prelude great thoroughness and dedication, with minimal fuss and all of the emotion concentrated in the sound. The Fugue lived up to all expectations set by the Prelude, with clarity, excellent control of dynamics, and attention to each detail of counterpoint. The entrance of Mendelssohn’s own E major Chorale theme was truly noble, as was the hallowed quiet ending.

The first actual Bach of the program came from the afternoon’s third pianist, Sua Lee in three selections from Bach’s English Suite in D minor. We heard the Prelude, Sarabande, and Gavotte. Ms. Lee gave the Prelude an improvisatory feel, letting it naturally unfold into the Allegro section, which was remarkably controlled.  Only some slightly rushed repeated bass pedal tones departed from the utter steadiness, but these seemed almost inevitable in the excitement of Bach’s building. The Sarabande sounded as I had never heard it before with all manner of surprising personal touches in the double (including, unless this listener was dreaming, no Picardy third at the close – a surprise). The second Gavotte in D major was similarly graced with some very individual ornamentation and was striking and ethereal. It is rare to see this sort of individual playing in such a young performer so it will be interesting to hear how she develops over time.

The fourth pianist Katelyn Vahala gave a confident account of selections from Bach’s Partita No. 4 in D major – the Overture, Menuet, and Gigue. The Overture had just the right regal quality in its double-dotted rhythms, and what followed was excellent, though for this listener it seemed that some of the ornaments may have encumbered the tempo slightly in spots – or perhaps that deliberate quality was intentional.  With Bach, as stated by the jury chair Jeffrey Swann, there is such a wide range of possible interpretations – and sometimes that flexibility is applied to expressive manipulations of rhythm – this listener just wasn’t always in complete agreement. The Gigue closed and was wonderfully rhythmic and robust. Among Gigues this Partita’s one is quite a difficult one, with leaps that snag the best pianists, but with only the minutest exceptions Ms. Vahala was right on target. The playing all around was that of a highly accomplished pianist.

The afternoon’s final pianist Tianle Chen played two selections, starting with Bach’s Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring (Chorale from Cantata no. 147) in the Myra Hess version – it was sensitively wrought. As winner in the Goldberg Variations category, he had the dubious obligation to extract a segment from this sacrosanct set, but he chose well (or someone did) with the Aria followed by Variations XX-XXX. Again Mr. Chen impressed. It is probably a challenge to leap from the Aria to Variation XX, especially at the lightning speed Mr. Chen chose for the latter, but for whatever reason it had momentary rough spots that one suspects could have been avoided with a bit more breathing room. Variation XXI was a joy, perfectly clear in each voice. Mr. Chen has superb fingers for detached rapid passagework, and one was reminded of the playing of Gould at times (if that is acceptable to say in this Tureck-oriented environment). In Variation XXIII, Mr. Chen’s staccato sixteenths moved to seamlessly perfect 32^nd notes, and there was tremendous lightness and clarity. Occasionally in the parallel thirds one wanted more “traction” (as well as in Variation XXIX) lest things run away – but all in all one was left simply wanting to hear the whole set. Mr. Chen’s pianism has much to offer the world.

The judges included Jeffrey Swann (chairman), Michael Charry, Emanuel Krasovsky, André Laplante, Joanne Polk, Matti Raekallio, Jose Ramos Santana, Mark Sullivan, and Douglas Sheldon, and a preselection jury of Martin Labazevitch, Mark Sullivan, and the director Golda Vainberg-Tatz.

Congratulations to all of them for their selections, to the young pianists, to their teachers, to the contest administration, and of course to all who learned great repertoire without winning a prize – undoubtedly, they have won in important ways, as does anyone who gets to know Bach’s music. Here’s to hearing more in a few years!

Yuri Vodovoz, violin; David Oei, piano; Guest Artists Tzu-En Lee, viola; Julian Schwarz, cello; Donovan Stokes, double bass

Weill Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

December 8, 2019

It was a great joy to anticipate the Alaria Chamber Ensemble’s recital at Weill Hall this past weekend, for several reasons – among them the programming itself. The inclusion of a premiere always heightens a listener’s interest (or ought to), and on this afternoon’s program there was to be the world premiere of Eric Ewazen’s Piano Trio No. 2, composed for the Alaria just this year. Surrounding the Ewazen premiere were powerful works by Arvo Pärt, Ernst von Dohnanyi, and Franz Schubert – in particular the ever-popular Quintet in A Major (“Trout”) for piano and strings – so a feast was in store.

The Alaria Chamber Music Program, as one reads in the printed program booklet, has been active since 1984, formerly in residence at Mannes College (The New School for Music), and has been offering master classes, coaching, and concerts at venues throughout the city. The principal performers on this occasion were Alaria board directors Yuri Vodovoz, violinist, and David Oei, a pianist who seems to be simply everywhere on the New York music scene these days. Excellent guest artists were violist Tzu-En Lee, cellist Julian Schwarz, and double bassist Donovan Stokes.

Before even a note was played, one received the impression that the Alaria is run as a well-oiled machine (one can learn more about them at www.alaria.org). A beautiful program booklet with helpful and thorough program notes by Lawrence Bein deserves mention, considering that we complain often enough about poor and patchy notes – or a complete lack of them.  Words of introduction were spoken from the stage by Artistic Director Yuri Vodovoz and Chairman of the Board Peter Frank, and the audience learned that prior Alaria commissions have included works by Paul Schoenfield, Daniel Brewbaker, and Peter Schickele – an impressive enrichment of the chamber music repertoire.

Sunday’s program opened with Arvo Pärt’s elegiac work Mozart-Adagio for Violin, Cello, and Piano (1992) written in memory of the violinist Oleg Kagan, who died in 1990 at age 44. The work is quite haunting, framing and adorning, with dissonances and fragments, the Adagio movement of Mozart’s Piano Sonata K. 280. The trio played it with utter immersion, though at times for this listener the sound was a bit too live and “present” for the otherworldliness of the piece.

The perfect sound was achieved throughout Dohnanyi’s Serenade in C for string trio, Op. 10, played by Mr. Vodovoz with Tzu-En Lee and Julian Schwarz. This five-movement Serenade, composed 1902-4 when the composer was in his mid-twenties, is full of joy and energy, captured well by this ensemble. Each musician had his stunning moments – among them a ravishing viola line from Ms. Lee in the second movement Romanza and some honeyed lyricism from Mr. Vodovoz in the fourth movement Tema con Variazione – but one appreciated in a subtler, more cumulative way the musicianship of Mr. Schwarz, who was responsive in every moment, playing with a beautiful burnished tone when he came to the fore. The Serenade has its treacherous moments – among them the octaves in the frenetic and chromatic central Scherzo, where increasing efforts to match intonation perfectly tend to receive diminishing returns (as opposed to simply yielding to the motoric frenzy, scratchiness notwithstanding); in general, though, one savored Dohnanyi’s exuberance throughout, as these three musicians worked quite well together. Many moments found them melding into a vibrant collective sound, and they clearly delighted in the double-stops and energy of the Finale.

Eric Ewazen’s Piano Trio No.2 followed. This listener has appreciated Mr. Ewazen’s music since hearing his Ballade, Pastorale, and Dance for flute, horn, and piano some years ago, so this premiere was met with avid interest. For those unfamiliar with Mr. Ewazen’s music, he has tended to be (at least based on what this listener has heard) unabashedly tonal, but with a voice that is all his own. He states in his refreshingly clear notes that his influences include the music of Copland, Bernstein, and (from his days at Eastman), Howard Hanson, as a hearing of this trio would attest. The Piano Trio No. 2 is a work that many audiences will be apt to find immediately appealing, as it encompasses lucid neo-classicism, earnest lyricism, and bracing brilliance in the finale. Overall, this listener enjoyed the piece, though not quite as much as the earlier flute-horn-piano work (as some stretches seemed just a bit facilely developed, almost glib – perhaps completed in haste?); that said, it was full of engaging ideas, and with the passion invested in it by the performers, especially by Mr. Oei, who showed the devotion of a champion, it emerged as compelling and closed the first half in triumph. Enthusiastic ovations brought Mr. Ewazen to the stage for a bow, and the commission benefactor, Heather Marcus, was given well-deserved thanks as well.

After intermission came Schubert’s “Trout” Piano Quintet, adding double bassist Donovan Stokes to the four musicians of the first half, Mr. Vodovoz, Mr. Schwartz, Mr. Oei, and Ms. Lee. Clearly, as one could hear from the start, these musicians made up a felicitous five. Schubert added to an already rich musical afternoon, and one already looks forward to the next Alaria program. Congratulations to Alaria, and long may they thrive as an asset to NY cultural life!

Charles Neidich, Artistic Director, clarinet, basset horn; Ayako Oshima, clarinet, bass clarinet; Lucy Fitz Gibbon, soprano; Katie Hyun, violin; Fred Sherry, cello

Tenri Cultural Institute, New York, NY

December 8, 2019

Charles Neidich’s latest themed concert paired two masters of musical construction separated by two hundred years of music history: Anton Webern and J.S. Bach. No less fastidious a master than Maurice Ravel said (I paraphrase): “My goal is technical perfection. Since that is unattainable, I know that I may strive to come a little closer to it each day.”

Webern is one-third of the Schoenberg, Berg, Webern “Twelve-tone trinity,” which Schoenberg adamantly claimed was not a “method” (though it was, and it wasn’t even Schoenberg’s invention). Webern’s strength lies in his manipulation of timbre, allied with brevity that is sometimes carried to the extreme.

Webern’s Sechs Lieder nach Gedichten von Georg Trakl, Op. 14 (1917/21), set to six darkly expressionistic poems by fellow Austrian Georg Trakl, who died of a cocaine overdose three years before, feature Webern’s signature widely disjunct vocal lines that make text comprehension difficult. On that subject, soprano Lucy Fitz Gibbon gave a compelling performance, her voice even from top to bottom despite the wild demands placed on it, and I could even understand a large percentage of the words. The ensemble partnered her with sensitivity. I take issue with her textual analysis however: Trakl, a pharmacist whose mother was a drug addict, and who had incestuous relations with his own sister, distilled burning eroticism and menace into his work, not Catholic symbols.

Mr. Neidich then brought five of his own arrangements of Contrapuncti  (I,IV, II, VII, IX) from Bach’s “last will and testament”: Die Kunst der Fuge, BWV 1080, a compendium of fugues all built from the same subject, displaying every possible combination of counterpoint, an anthology of the type that obsessed Bach late in his life, with the desire to summarize, teach, and leave a legacy. In the first group, Mr. Neidich refreshingly used the rarely heard autograph versions, which often lack the codas that were added later, by J.S. Bach, not his son, as claimed. The first eleven were actually put in order and prepared for publication in Bach’s lifetime, thought the first edition would have to wait until 1802.

Mr. Neidich’s engaging oral program notes failed to take into account one issue: Christoph Wolff and many other Bach scholars agree that in the case of the great “unfinished” quadruple fugue (heard at the end of the program), the final combinatorial section was figured out first, to make sure it was possible. Bach then went back and began writing it out from the beginning, and the music peters out right after the introduction of the musical spelling B-A-C-H (B-flat, A, C, B natural) as the third subject, where Bach’s son indicates that “he died.” This gave rise to centuries of romantic speculation about Bach’s “musical hubris” as a cause of his demise.

The contrapuncti were played with clarity, though the endings of two of them (VII and IX) were botched. I wished for slightly more articulation than the (mostly) legato that was applied.

After intermission, Ms. Fitz Gibbon returned with Webern’s own counterpoints, Fünf Canons, Op. 16 (1923/24), to Roman Catholic liturgical lines. They are canons in the sense of musical imitation, and also the religious sense. Mr. Neidich ought to have made the point that Bach’s Art of the Fugue also contains four canons, and that Webern himself arranged Bach’s fugues using his characteristic Klangfarbenmelodie (sound-color-melody), assigning a different instrument to each note of the theme(s).

Three of Webern’s canons concern the crucifixion, and the two instrumental strands and one vocal strand crisscross each other in symbolic fashion, with every possible permutation and breathtaking efficiency: different pitch levels, inversion, and retrograde. The lullaby for the infant Jesus was tender, though in Webern’s severe way. This was the finest performance of this rarity that one is likely ever to hear live.

The ensemble finished with four more Bach Contrapuncti (III, V, XI, XVIII). They negotiated a near-mishap in Contrapuntus XI, a devilishly complicated triple fugue, managing to find each other again with subtle skill.

This concert featured the “head” portion of what I call the “head/heart ratio,” though, as Bach scholar Wilfred Mellers states, what makes Bach’s music so expressive is his “keen understanding of human suffering reflected through his use of dissonance.” Webern’s music is highly expressive too, though one needs to be on his wavelength to perceive just how much passion he channeled into his art.

The final song from the Trakl series was offered as a true encore—the savvy audience that attends the WA series is not afraid of a little serialism- they applauded long and loud. The customary curated feast of food and drink was delicious as always. A word to the wise, this series has been and will continue to be one of New York’s most valuable gems—please support it.

Adrienne Haan, chanteuse; Bart Shatto, vocalist

Richard Danley, Music Director/Piano; Melanie LaPatin, Choreographer; Laurence Pierron, Original Idea

Triad Theater, New York, NY

December 5, 2019

I have reviewed Adrienne Haan several times in these pages- always with great pleasure. She is known as a performer with a flair for decadent Weimar-era cabaret and the like (Brecht/Weill), as well as many other eclectic international programs. On this occasion, she featured an entertaining and educational primer through a tiny fraction of the songs of a fellow adopted American: Irving Berlin. It takes a truly secure performer to share her stage with a partner, in this case the excellent Broadway and television star Bart Shatto.

Thirty-three songs and a built-in encore made for a generous evening, one that I feared would prove too long, however, the patter was engaging and concise, and some of the songs were given a mere “taste” and joined attacca to the following song(s), which allowed the pace to move forward.

The ultimate immigrant success story, Berlin wrote over 1500 songs, 20 musicals, and 15 movie scores. He was also his own lyricist. He never learned to read music, and had a transposing piano to move his songs from the black keys to which he confined himself. A startling coincidence was made in juxtaposing Ms. Haan, a native of Luxembourg, with Berlin’s long-time home on Manhattan’s luxurious Beekman Place, which once belonged to Navy  and Defense secretary James V. Forrestal, and today serves as the consulate of . . . Luxembourg.

The evening was divided into groups corresponding to Berlin’s iconic work: immigration themes, military songs (both world wars), musicals, Hollywood, love songs, and holiday songs. Only one transition I found rather jarring: after Ms. Haan and Mr. Shatto explained that the Berlins’ only son, Irving Jr., died at age three weeks on Christmas Day 1928, they segued right into Happy Holidays performed with absolutely no irony whatsoever. All this says, I suppose, is what the entire show tells us, that Berlin’s music is truly optimistic at all times. There is no cynicism in it. He was genuinely patriotic, even to the point of writing “propaganda” songs for the Federal government about income tax and the armed forces.

Ms. Haan and Mr. Shatto showed charming chemistry with each other, and distributed quite evenly through the duos were solos for each of them. Ms. Haan’s skills are well-known to New Yorkers by now, and she shimmied her way through standards and lesser-known material with consummate ease. To a great extent, Mr. Shatto showed a certain American “corn-fed” quality even better than she did.

Standouts from this crowded song list were: Ofyn Pripetchik (the only number not by Berlin), tenderly sung by Ms. Haan; Oh How I Hate To Get Up In The Morning, I Paid My Income Tax Today, The Hostess With The Mostes’ On The Ball, You’re Just In Love, Mr. Shatto’s brilliant voice in How Deep Is The Ocean, and Haan’s comedic Falling Out Of Love Can Be Fun.

An all-Berlin evening could have easily become one-dimensional, but these talented folks ensured that that didn’t happen. We could use another Berlin today, indeed  “God Bless America.”