Alexander L’Estrange, composer/conductor

Joanna Forbes L’Estrange, soprano; Ges Ray, bass; Musicians from DCOrchestra; Distinguished Concerts Singers International

Matthew Melendez, conductor

John Muehlheisen, DCINY Composer-in-Residence

Tess Altiveros, soprano; Great Bend Chorale (WA)

The Newtown High School Wind Ensemble (CT), Kurt Eckhardt, director

Carnegie Hall, Stern Auditorium, New York, NY

May 24, 2019

A diverse and entertaining program presented by Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) entitled Vocal Colors took place in Carnegie Hall’s main auditorium on May 24, 2019, as most New Yorkers were clogging area roads in the annual Memorial Day getaway race. The truly international forces (a choir from Vietnam was among the participants) were well-prepared , and enthusiastic as ever .

The evening began with one of Alexander L’Estrange’s many large-scale cantatas, designed to bring music participation into the lives of children in as accessible a way as possible. This one, Zimbe! Come, sing the songs of Africa!, has been celebrating some of the folk materials of Africa for ten years now. Fourteen sections run the gamut of religion, play, lullaby, wedding, drinking, funeral, and protest songs. Mr. L’Estrange’s skill lies in providing simple unison melodic material for the younger voices, with more intricate harmonies supplied by older (sometimes professional) voices. Backed by a five-piece jazz ensemble, the music had great swing, and Mr. L’Estrange himself is a very kinetic conductor, with obvious great positive energy directed to his forces. Soprano Joanna Forbes L’Estrange (Mr. L’Estrange’s wife) provided some joyful solos.

After a brief pause, the Great Bend Chorale from Washington took the stage, along with a five-piece string group, piano, and the excellent soprano soloist Tess Altiveros to present two works, Andrey Stolyarov’s take on Out of the Depths, (De profundis, Psalm 130); and the world premiere of a DCINY commission, John Muelheisen’s politically relevant work Borders.

Mr. Stolyarov notes that his work arose out of an immense recent family tragedy, and indeed the mood was appropriately somber, with long pedal points from the double bass. The overall feeling was rather static, perhaps a representation of emotions frozen in shock. Although it is quite difficult to achieve, I never heard the final “s” on the word “depths” from either choir or soloist, leaving one to understand “out of the depth.”

The theme of how we treat strangers, never more crucial than at this moment, formed the arching unifier of Mr. Muehleisen’s extended cantata, Borders. “Politically relevant” music is always risky, but the choice of texts was so thoughtful in this case, with a huge cross-cultural span, that it showed the issue without being too didactic. The most effective moment, for me, was the revelation of letters from an Irish woman, starving in the potato famine of the mid-19th century, writing to her son, who presumably emigrated to the US. Here, the work of Ms. Altiveros was clear and very poignant. Two very small children, one boy and one girl, also made a significant brief utterance.

After intermission, the wind ensemble of Newtown High School from Connecticut played five varied selections, showing off their considerable skills. What a pleasure it was to associate the name Newtown, CT, with something other than the tragic school shooting of six and a half years ago. I wondered if perhaps everyone in this ensemble knew someone personally affected by it, yet, as D.H. Lawrence says: “We’ve got to go on, no matter how many skies have fallen.”

A work by Rossano Galante titled The Falls purported to be about water spilling over a ledge, but if the title had been “Apollo 11 Lands on the Moon,” it would have been equally apt—I simply wasn’t getting “water” out of it. The clever Arabesque, a three-section piece by Samuel R. Hazo was inhabited with strong rhythmic drive. The group created truly terrifying sounds, as intended, in Robert W. Smith’s Inferno section from his programmatic rendering of Dante’s Divine Comedy. They were also quite controlled in Eric Whitacre’s own arrangement of his “hit tune” (originally for a cappella choir) Lux Aurumque (Golden Light). I feared that the work might lose some of its “cosmic” quality without the voices, but was very happy to find that it did not. They were also excellent in Leonard Bernstein’s jazzy 1977 tribute to his colleague Mstislav Rostropovich, called Slava! (subtitle: A Political Overture). The shifting rhythms held absolutely no terrors for these talented students, a quality I sincerely hope will transfer to their ability to negotiate shifting politics as they mature.

Pianists Nana Miyoshi, Maxine Park, Crystal Chen, Andy Liao, and Rixiang Huang

Weill Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

May 19, 2019

Two large Weill Hall recitals were presented this Sunday to feature winners of the 2019 Alexander and Buono Competitions (alexanderbuono.com), the first featuring winners of the Barry Alexander International Vocal Competition (covered in a separate review) and the second, covered here, featuring the winners of the Bradshaw and Buono International Piano Competition (named for the two-piano team of Cosmo Buono and the late David Bradshaw). Messrs. Buono and Alexander were present to get the evening started with a few words, after which five excellent prizewinners took turns onstage, three before intermission and two after. Their prize categories were Elementary School (ages 4-11), Middle School (12-14), High School (15-18), Amateur Adults, and College/Adults.

The youngest category’s winner, Nana Miyoshi, opened the program with Mozart’s Sonata in F Major, K. 332. While one regularly hears very young pianists play selected movements of Mozart Sonatas, it is less common to hear one in its entirety, due to the required concentration and tonal control, especially for an inner slow movement. Ms. Miyoshi played the entire work with a poise and polish that belied her young years – and it was no small feat just to walk onto the stage of this storied hall and be the first performer of five. (For an excellent description of the rigors of such group recitals, one recommends once again the following review by Alexandra Eames: (Rutgers Pianists in Review)

As one expects of a prizewinner, Ms. Miyoshi was technically reliable in realizing Mozart’s score, but she also showed the beginnings of deeper interpretation of it, particularly in her first movement. The first dramatic C-sharp heralding the move to D minor was full of the operatic intensity one often wishes that more adult performers would project. Moments in the second movement were a bit romanticized for this listener (including generously rolled chords and instances of the left hand preceding right), but all in all the lyricism was quite appealing. With time, this young pianist will gain the ability to gauge the tone of longer note values so that they can last and connect ever more smoothly to subsequent tones, but again the phrasing was generally quite graceful for one so young. The last movement showcased Ms. Miyoshi’s impressively sparkling passagework, with only some telltale rushing reflecting her youth and the excitement of the day.

The second performer was Maxine Park, age fourteen, who played Bach and Chopin. First came five movements from Bach’s Partita No. 2 in C minor (sadly omitting just the Courante). Ms. Park showed outstanding decisiveness from the first notes of the Sinfonia, delivering the double-dotted rhythms with crispness and confidence. Though this reviewer felt there could be more nuance even within the French Overture spirit, such preferences are personal – and again one reminds oneself that this performer is younger than the coats in this reviewer’s closet! Ms. Park sailed through this work’s brisk dance movements with assuredness, and slower sections were thoughtfully rendered. All movements were played with no repeats, except in the Sarabande, which enjoyed some tasteful elaborations on the second iteration. The final Capriccio was wonderfully precise in its leaping tenths, showing excellent pianism, rhythm, and ebullience.

Moving on to Chopin’s Sonata No. 3 in B minor, Op. 58 (just the first movement), Ms. Park showed her interpretive potential in a more Romantic vein, making good sense of a movement many consider unwieldy. It is a bit surprising to hear such a young player take on such a mature work even in these days of prodigies abounding, but Ms. Park did so with admirable projection of the varying moods and skillful transitions throughout. Despite a small misfire in the early measures – something one has heard from numerous seasoned professionals – it was clear that Ms. Park has the technique and temperament to be a strong interpreter one day, if she chooses to be. One can expect great achievements from her as she continues to develop.

Still within the category of pre-college years (now high school) was Crystal Chen, age sixteen, playing selections by Beethoven, Liszt, and Bartok. She started with the first movement of Beethoven’s Sonata in C major, Op. 2, No. 3, in which she made short work of the challenges, from its tricky opening thirds to heraldic broken octaves, all with hearty Beethovenian spirit. As with Ms. Park’s single movement of the Chopin, one was reminded that we were in effect hearing an encore of a typical prize-winning audition, rather than a preview of the concerts these young pianists may give one day as full-fledged soloists, but audience members who liked what they heard will simply have to stay tuned for what is to come.

Ms. Chen followed her Beethoven with a fierce performance of Liszt’s La Campanella from the Grandes Études de Paganini. La Campanella can fall somewhere between target practice and a kamikaze mission, so those who choose to perform it live – and at such an important occasion, with little warming up and much unpredictability – deserve kudos for bravery alone. Ms. Chen was more than up to the task, though, and if it was not exactly a model of neatness, it certainly whipped up a huge lather towards the end, lifting her practically off the bench in the pursuit of a big sound – which she did indeed achieve. The audience was thrilled. She closed the first half with a bristling account of the first movement of Bartók’s Piano Sonata, another bold choice showing her power and potential.

Interestingly enough, some of the most satisfying music-making of the evening came through the hands of Andy Liao, from the so-called “Amateur” category, though if he is called amateur, then heaven help the professionals! Mr. Liao offered just one complete piece, Ginastera’s demanding Piano Sonata No. 1, Op. 22. He gave it a great ride, with a wide dynamic and emotional range and plenty of technique for its tremendous pianistic demands. From the declamatory opening through the smoldering presto misterioso and ensuing Adagio, one felt that there was no note without intent. The Ruvido final movement had just the right driving energy, stirring the audience to a rousing ovation. This piece has had many passionate champions – the name Terrence Judd springs to mind as a favorite – but Mr. Liao now holds a place among them. Bravo!

The final performer, Rixiang Huang, faced quite a difficult task in following so much extraordinary piano music – and in a recital starting at 6:30pm his own offerings finished close to 9pm. As Mr. Huang won in the College/Adult category, it was natural that the presenters wanted to feature him as the concert’s grand finale – and in a wide spectrum of repertoire – but somewhere along the way, the notion of strain on the audience was lost. Though there were some audience members who came and left, present especially to hear their friend or relative, the listener who is present from start to finish ought to be considered as well. Even the hardiest music-lovers reach a point of aural saturation. By the time Mr. Huang walked onto the stage, this listener was ready to hear perhaps one more small piece but probably not another miniature recital. Such matters should be considered, lest the presenters do their winners a disservice.

Despite the above mentioned issues, Mr. Huang appeared unfazed as he calmly wiped the piano keys before his own long segment of the program. His confidence, as one discovered, was well justified, as this young man knows how to play! Currently a Master of Music degree candidate at Juilliard studying with Matti Raekallio and Jerome Lowenthal, Mr. Huang offered a mini-recital made up of Haydn’s Sonata in E minor Hob XVI.34, Beethoven’s Sonata in F-sharp major, Op. 78, Los Requiebros from Goyescas by Granados, and, to cap the evening off, Liszt’s Dante Sonata.

The Haydn could have easily been omitted, as it did not seem to show qualities unique to Mr. Huang and was challenging to listen to with fresh ears after the Ginastera; that said, Mr. Huang gave it good attention to detail, in particular the slow movement which reflected well the improvisatory style associated with C. P. E. Bach whom Haydn highly respected. Repeats were omitted, except in the last movement.

The Beethoven that followed, the two-movement Op. 78, was a refreshing choice, as it is often bypassed in favor of the more dramatic Sonatas Opp. 53, 57, 110, and others, though it is a beautiful and ingenious work. Mr. Huang played it commendably, with sensitivity in its lyrical opening and great care in the details of articulation and dynamics in its later flights.

Still more lyrical was Los Requiebros, and there was a suavity about this performance that was just right. Mr. Huang seemed to feel quite at home with this Spanish style of musical dreaming, and it was a good bridge into the Romanticism that followed in the form of Liszt’s Dante Sonata, properly named Après une lecture du Dante: Fantasia quasi Sonata from the Années de Pèlerinage, V. II. Here, in the Liszt, came the style of virtuosity for which Mr. Huang stood out the most. The Dante Sonata is notorious for its ferocious octave demands. In this reviewer’s conservatory years, a dear class clown when offended would issue mock threats to play “Dante Sonata on your head” – and in all seriousness, it is that fiendish; in Mr. Huang’s hands, however, it was child’s play. Moreover, the music always came across, never devolving into mere noise. Mr. Huang moved easily from the softest tremolos to superb arpeggiated elaborations and, yes, torrents of octaves (and he may have broken speed records in some of those torrents!). He was, in a word, superb.

All in all, it was an auspicious evening for five highly promising pianists. One hopes to hear more from all of them in the future. Congratulations to all.

Brannon Cho, cello

Victor Santiago Asuncion, piano

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

April 22, 2019

On April 22, 2019, The Center for Musical Excellence(CME) presented 2015 CME Artist Winner Brannon Cho in his Carnegie Hall (Weill Hall stage) recital debut. CME Founder and Director Min Kwon spoke briefly before the recital about CME, and to explain the four-year gap between Mr. Cho’s award and his debut by explaining that CME did not want to rush, but to allow Mr. Cho to continue exploring opportunities. It appears that Mr. Cho has been quite busy since then, and, given the quality of his performance on this evening, he should continue to be for the foreseeable future.

Mr. Cho and pianist Victor Santiago Asuncion took the stage and opened with Boccherini’s Sonata in A major, G.4 (the first two movements only). A sunny work, it was an ideal opener. Mr. Cho’s beautiful singing tone, combined with razor-sharp articulation, made one eager for what was to come.

Following the Boccherini came Matthias Pintscher’s Figura V/Assonanza (part of a larger work Figura I-V for String Quartet). With fluttering ultra-soft harmonics and sounds of atmend (breathing), it has an eerie, atmospheric quality. Mr. Cho’s playing was mesmerizing, even if one was left wondering whether this was meant to be chiefly an exercise in special effects. In any case, it showed Mr. Cho’s versatility as an artist.

More mainstream fare came next with Brahms’s Cello Sonata in E minor, Op. 38. Brahms entitled it Sonate für Klavier und Violoncello with the intent that the pianist is not merely a background accompanist, but a full and equal partner. Completed in 1865, the sonata is Brahms’s homage to J. S. Bach and uses material from Contrapuncti 4 and 13 of The Art of Fugue, as Mr. Cho reminds us in his program notes. This work always brings to mind the famous story associated with it, about Brahms and the cellist Robert Hausmann, its dedicatee. Hausmann was playing this work with Brahms at the piano, and Brahms was playing so loudly that Hausmann remarked that he could not hear his cello. “Lucky for you!” was Brahms’s reply! This listener thinks that the gruff Brahms would have been delighted with this performance. The rapport between Mr. Cho and Mr. Asuncion was striking, each attuned to the other as if they shared a single mind. The opening movement was filled with the feeling of sorrow, but also the glimmers of hope, as the duo robustly conveyed. The second movement Menuetto was played with charm. The finale was thrilling in its mutuality of conception. The large, and very enthusiastic audience gave the players a standing ovation. It was one of the finer performances of this masterpiece this listener has heard.

After intermission, Mr. Cho opened the second half with Benjamin Britten’s Cello Suite No. 1, Op. 72. The first of three suites written for and dedicated to Mstislav Rostropovich, it is inspired by Bach’s cello suites and Rostropovich’s cello playing. It is a haunting nine-movement solo cello work, with a beautiful opening canto that repeats several times in later movements, each time with an increasingly disturbing tone. The movements that surround the canto suggest memories, some playful and childlike, and others of a nightmarish quality. The ending is manic, with a final angry outburst in its final notes. The challenges are immense. The cellist must not only deal with the technical demands (which are considerable), but also convey the almost manic mood changes while trying to maintain the sense of structure and continuity for the work’s twenty-plus minutes.

There was none of the coughing or fidgeting from the audience that one often hears/sees in a work of this type – indeed, their attention was locked to the stage with utter silence. This listener was completely transfixed, experiencing the joy, the innocence, and the nightmares, as if privy to a particularly emotional therapy session. To convey this musically was something extraordinary. It was my favorite performance of the evening, and it is still resonating in my mind as I write these lines.

After the emotionally demanding Britten, it was time for Mr. Cho to have some fun, and this took the form of Sarasate’s Zigeunerweisen, Op. 20, a staple of the violin repertoire. Why should violinists have all the fun? In an arrangement by Hans Jørgen Jensen (Mr. Cho’s teacher at Northwestern), Mr. Cho let loose with a performance that many a violinist would be hard pressed to equal. With all of the Roma soulfulness coupled with the scintillating virtuosic fire, Mr. Cho’s playing exceeded all expectations (and for full disclosure, this reviewer heard Mr. Cho in a 2015 performance on YouTube as pre-concert preparation, so there was already some idea of what to expect). The audience leapt to their feet in a loud ovation, which almost seemed an insufficient response to such a dynamic performance!

Mr. Cho offered two encores. The first, Chopin’s Etude, Op. 25, No. 7, as arranged by Alexander Glazunov, was announced from the stage by Mr. Cho. The heartfelt melody was played with melting beauty by both players. The second, with the grandiose title “Concert Paraphrase on ‘Largo al factotum’ from Barber of Seville” (sometimes simply called “Figaro”), arranged by Mario Castelnuovo-Tedesco, was not announced, but it is highly likely that most made the Rossini connection. It is a sure-fire crowd pleaser. Mr. Cho played it to the hilt, with wit, whimsy, and brilliance.

After such a showstopper as the Zigeunerweisen, this reviewer had reservations about doing another such piece as an encore, lest it diminish the effect of the “serious” works (especially the Britten) – and yet it was a savvy move on his part to whip the audience into a frenzy. It worked – the audience loved every second and once again reacted with an extended standing ovation.

Mr. Cho is an artist to watch – mature beyond his years as a musician. Yes, he has technique to burn (and he is not at all shy about using it), but he pairs this with a fine sense of line and phrase shaping. He knows when to “breathe,” and does not hurry, letting the sound linger organically, without “chopping” phrase endings. Mr. Asuncion deserves high praise as well for both his attentive collaboration as well as his assured technique. I hope to hear this duo again in the future.

Irina Muresanu, violin

Romanian Cultural Institute, New York, NY

April 12, 2019

This event was the first in a new concert series presented by the Romanian Cultural Institute called “The Enescu Soirees of New York.” To paraphrase the printed program, these concerts will be designed to showcase cultivate and promote Romanian music through chamber music concerts featuring Romanian, American and international performers. The namesake of the series honors Romania’s most prolific and revered composer, George Enescu. Tonight’s soloist, violinist Irina Muresanu, is the series musical advisor.

And what a beautifully constructed program she chose for this inaugural concert. Called “Four Strings Around, the World,” a showcase of works for solo violin by composers from four continents with pieces inspired by the folk music of Europe, the Middle East, Asia and the Americas. (It is available on a just issued Sono Luminus CD.) Fittingly, the first work was Enescu’s Romania – Airs in Romanian Folk Style. Although composed in 1926, this evocative composition remained in manuscript form until it was published in 2006. This was its American premiere. I say evocative because its combination of rhythms, bent notes (notes that to us sound slightly “out of tune”) and rubato phrases immediately told us that this work was from Eastern Europe. (In fact, “evocative” could be applied to all of the folk-song-derived works on this concert.) Ms. Muresanu produces a voluptuous rich sound and I was most impressed by her impeccable control while playing violin harmonics. It took but a few minutes to realize that we were hearing a master violinist.

We then moved on to Ireland with David Flynn’s Tar Éis an Caoineadh (After the Keening). Written in one continuous movement, this work consists of four dances which might have taken place at a traditional Irish wake after the ritualized keening (mournful display of sorrow and wailing). Traditional Irish wakes were a celebration of the life of the deceased and often had professional keeners, lots of alcohol, and lots of music. Each dance illustrated techniques employed by famous Irish fiddlers including droning double-stops, playing near the violin’s fingerboard (sul tasto) and near the bridge (sul ponticello). I again marveled at Ms. Muresanu’s fabulous technique. Needless to say, the work ended with a joyous Irish jig.

Departing from the folk music theme of this recital, Ms. Muresanu then performed J. S. Bach’s monumental Chaconne in D minor from his Partita BWV 1004. After hearing her performance of the first two works, I wasn’t surprised that she was up to the many technical hurdles of this most demanding masterpiece. The string crossings, and the double and triple stops were perfectly executed with seeming ease, but I found the performance, with its use of lots of vibrato and big crescendos, too romantic in style. However, as she kept the audience mesmerized for almost fifteen minutes and then received one the evening’s longest and enthusiast round of applause, I’ll stop my Baroque nitpicking.

After a brief intermission we began a musical and visual tour which took us to Iran, India, China, Argentina, and the United States of America. The visuals which preceded each piece were projected on a screen behind the performing space. They included pictures from each country, audio of the type of music on which the works we were to hear were based, and printed text about this music. While this was happening, Ms. Muresanu would be off stage changing into clothes suggesting the country whose music she would be playing. This was a wonderful touch.

Iran (Persia) was first on this tour. As with most of the folk-influenced works on tonight’s program, Reza Vali’s Calligraphy No.5 utilizes a musical scale which differs from that used in compositions such as Bach’s Chaconne in D minor. As a scale is determined by how the octave is divided (how many pitches are used, and what are the relative frequencies of these pitches), the more a culture’s scale differs from that we are used to, the more exotic it sounds. I marveled as to how Ms. Muresanu, a “classically” trained musician who has spent a lifetime playing the notes of “our scale” in tune, performed Mr. Vali’s carefully notated “out of tune notes” with such confidence and skill. She had already shown this skill playing the “bent notes” during the two folk-like works on the concert’s first half.

Next on to India for Shirish Korde’s Vák (for solo violin and electronic drone.) As much of Indian music utilizes a drone (one or two notes continuously sounded throughout a piece), Ms. Muresanu’s performance was supported by a two-note drone prerecorded on her mobile phone. Then on to the music of China, which utilizes a pentatonic (five-note) scale. But, to me, Bright Sheng’s The Stream Flows didn’t sound very Chinese. I thought I heard many half-steps (intervals like B to C) which are not found in the pentatonic scale. And Astor Piazzolla’s Tango Étude No.3 didn’t evoke the dance that I know, but the flower on Ms. Muresanu’s dress did.

Although I found the last three works less interesting than those of the rest of the program, I was still kept engaged by the magnetism of Ms. Muresanu’s playing, always exhibiting a rich sound, impeccable technique and beautiful phrasing.

This wonderful concert concluded with two contrasting works from the USA. The first, Oshta (Four) by Jerod Impichchaachaaha’ Tate. Born in Norman, Oklahoma, Mr. Tate is a citizen of the Chickashaw Nation who has infused his music with aspects of his American Indian heritage. Quoting Mr. Tate: “Oshta is the Chickashaw word for the number Four and became the title of this work in the spirit of [Irina Muresanu’s] Four Strings Around the World project.” Oshta, based upon a 19^th century Choctaw church hymn, was for this reviewer the evening’s most beautiful work.

The concert’s finale was a foot stompin’, rip roarin’ rendition of Mark O’Connor’s rousing The Cricket Dance. This was Bluegrass fiddling at its best, as Ms. Muresanu, country music hat on her head, pulled out all the stops.

What an auspicious beginning to this new concert series whose next concert will be a June 7^th recital by the Romanian-Nigerian pianist Rebeca Omordia.