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Pro Musicis presents Gaspard Dehaene in Review

Gaspard Dehaene, piano

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

September 25, 2019

French pianist Gaspard Dehaene played a demanding program on Wednesday night with great technical facility, keen intellectual probing, and sensitivity to harmony and color. Winner of the Pro Musicis International award in 2015, he joins a long line of illustrious pianists (and other instrumentalists) chosen for their vision beyond the mere spectacle of the concert stage. In Mr. Dehaene’s case, one can easily see this, given the thoughtful devotion to Schubert on the first half of his program.

He began with the set of twelve Ländler, D. 790. The ländler may be thought of as the country-bumpkin predecessor to the waltz (sometimes including “yodel” themes and the like), and Schubert composed dozens and dozens of them, often linked by key relationship, that could actually be used in a social dance setting—they are not as stylized as later composers’ versions of social dances. But as Schubert’s tragically short life went on, he filled these humble dances with his characteristic harmonic sidesteps and other surprises in a way that elevates them far above their genre.

Only a little earlier this month, the music world lost one of the premiere exponents of the Austro-Hungarian piano tradition, Paul Badura-Skoda. I recall hearing him many times fling a bouquet of these ländler with consummate charm and lilt. Mr. Dehaene’s set involved more intellectual, sober values, at first sounding wooden, but growing into charm. I began to worry, however, about something that clouded his entire recital: his use of a very bright, noisy piano, one whose dampers and pedal made metallic noises and actually raised the pitch of the sustained final chords of each piece, which was most disconcerting. Mr. Dehaene was most sensitive in the 3rd, 5th, 6th, and 11th ländler . Schubert’s dynamics are truly detailed, and I didn’t hear enough true pianissimo to suit me.

He followed the dances with a solid performance of the middle of the “last three” piano sonatas, the great A major, D. 959. This work embodies the “Schubert struggle,” if you will: the forces of light and dark in perpetual conflict. In Schubert’s tragic case, dark eventually overcame him, but in his music the situation is far more ambiguous.

Mr. Dehaene has an obvious clarity of grasp of these large spans that he, as Alfred Brendel says, “proceed(ed) with the assurance of the sleepwalker.” Here I found the instrument partly to blame for the lack of differentiation and, at times, mellow singing tone. At times, Mr. Dehaene intersected with the heartbreaking lyricism perfectly, at other times accents were too sharp. His treatment of the different harmonic content in the recapitulation of the first movement was superb, as was the mysterious coda, with its half-step “window” into the next sonata (the B-flat, D. 960), was particularly well done. For me, though it can be debated, the Andantino was too fast and not desolate enough. Interestingly, after the agitated “portrait of a soul coming apart” middle section, when the theme returns with triplet C-sharps over it, he was at what would have been the correct tempo for the beginning. It was all a bit “severe” for my taste, despite those moments when Mr. Dehaene gave in to a more melting tone. The same goes for the Scherzo, which lacked lightness in the staccato chords and sounded brusque and overly-bright. The songfulness of the rondo finale suited Mr. Dehaene’s organizational strengths quite well, although I wished for more mystery in the key changes and the many “wandering stops” that Schubert places. The fiercely difficult coda posed no difficulties for him. I sincerely hope that he will continue to live with this masterpiece for many decades, returning to it with new experience, and draw from the eternal spring it provides.

After intermission, both pianist and piano seemed changed. His group of the four Chopin Mazurkas, Op. 24 was stylish and offered so many of the color shifts I wished to hear in the first half. Furthermore, the Schubert/Liszt song transcriptions (Auf dem Wasser zu singen, D. 774 and Aufenthalt, from Schwanengesang, D. 957) and the Liszt Rhapsodie espagnole that followed showed his command of the instrument, which was never superficial, but always included scrupulous voicing no matter how many thousands of other notes had to be dispatched.

Mr. Dehaene favored the enthusiastic audience with sincere comments of gratitude, delivered charmingly, to the Pro Musicis committee. He then played the wistful Schubert solo arrangement known as Mélodie hongroise (adapted from the four-hand Divertissement à la hongroise, D. 818) with disarming simplicity.

by Frank Daykin for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Jorge Ávila in Review

Jorge Ávila, Violin; Adrienne Kim, Piano

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

September 23, 2019

A splendid recital took place this Monday featuring violinist Jorge Ávila with pianist Adrienne Kim under the auspices of Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY). Anyone who has heard Mr. Ávila in his longtime role as concertmaster of the Distinguished Concerts Orchestra knows that he is a pro in that capacity – neither jangling ringtones nor fainting singers can ruffle him. His steady playing in countless orchestras (including pit orchestras) might almost lead one to expect the offhand, workaday sound that besets giggers, but such was definitely not the case here. Mr. Ávila is quite the soloist (with a healthy list of solo credentials to match – see http://jorgeavilamusic.com), and his commitment to this program of violin masterworks – Beethoven, Schumann, Chausson, and more – was clear.

Mr. Ávila and Ms. Kim opened with Beethoven’s Sonata for Piano and Violin No. 5 (F major, Op. 24 posthumously nicknamed the “Spring Sonata”). The balmy first movement opened with a particularly sweet violin tone and sensitive piano collaboration. Though there were moments where this listener found the violin sound perhaps a bit too robust, or the piano not enough (m. 11 and similar spots, where the melody switches instruments), such balance quibbles are somewhat subjective. The mutuality of phrase and rhythm throughout was that of a duo with many years of playing together. High points included the Scherzo’s trio section, timed with split-second togetherness and polish, and the fourth movement, Allegro ma non troppo, a final smile from Beethoven.

The premiere of a new work by Nic Scherzinger (b. 1968) followed. Entitled Imprint, it was dedicated to Mr. Ávila and Ms. Kim, and according to the composer is a short “song without words.” As Mr. Scherzinger explains it, “When I began working on this piece pianist Adrienne Kim suggested the title Imprint since Adrienne and Jorge have been performing together for so long. As chamber musicians, there is a certain “imprint” that performers make on each other that can only happen with time and experience, which I try to capture musically in this piece. When the aria begins, the piano and violin start as two completely different individuals, but as the music progresses, they slowly come together, having made imprints on each other.” The title and program notes led this listener somehow to expect more perceptible interchange of roles or musical material than one was able to grasp in a first hearing, but that said, the piece was beautifully atmospheric, combining long-breathed violin lines with an undulating piano bass, both parts gaining intensity throughout the well-paced journey.

Chausson’s expansive Poème for Violin and Piano, Op. 25 (1896) concluded the first half. This quasi-concerto, inspired by a Turgenev love story and the wizardry of the violinist Eugène Ysaÿe, is lush and extravagant. Violin technique is exploited to the hilt, from dazzling double-stops to stratospheric trills, and Mr. Avila seemed to relish it all. He was persuasively expressive, with a flexibility and variety in his vibrato that helped convey the musical message of each distinct phrase. More challenging, of course, is simulating the multitude of colors and timbres of the work’s orchestral origins, and to that end one again wished that the piano would have come a bit more to the fore. Perhaps some excess caution was attributable to the Steinway’s resonance (with lid open on the full stick), but one wanted still more of the orchestral textures to come through the piano part. All quibbles aside, the audience (a full house) seemed visibly to enjoy the performance and applauded resoundingly.

In Schumann’s Sonata No. 1 in A minor, Op. 105 (another work published as Sonata for Piano and Violin) the equal importance of parts was projected, and it was a joy to hear Ms. Kim’s excellent pianism combining with Mr. Ávila’s extroverted style to bring Schumann’s impassioned score to life. Except for some minor rough spots for Mr. Ávila in the third movement, the performance was outstanding, bristling with Schumann’s agitated energy.

Shorter works of Turina and Kreisler followed, closing the program almost as built-in encores. First the duo played Turina’s evocative La oración del torero Op. 34 (The Bullfighter’s Prayer, arranged by Heifetz), and they did it to a tee. The emotions of a matador before his fight were conveyed so dramatically that one could imagine the jitters, the colors, and the intense heat of the day. The music of Turina is one of the specialties of this duo, and they have recorded some of his work on a disc of Spanish sonatas (Centaur label).

The program closed with the much-loved Kreisler bonbon, Tambourin Chinois, Op. 3, played with perfect élan, spirited bowing, and the occasional delicious slide. There was consummate unity here, as befits such a longstanding musical pair. A standing ovation and much gracious bowing led to an encore of more Turina, now the Vivo movement from his Sonata No. 2. Mr. Ávila, not wanting to exhaust attention spans, assured the audience from the stage, “Don’t worry: it’s very short.” Indeed, two minutes more of Spanish fireworks flew by, and it was a joy. Cheers to this duo – and olé!

by Rorianne Schrade for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

Ensemble SONE presents Ju Hee Kang in Review

Ju Hee Kang, Flute

Heejin Kim, Piano

Yeon Hwa Chung, Harp

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall

September 18, 2019 at 8:00 pm

Some performers exude an air of professionalism and intelligence before the concert has even begun. Ju Hee Kang is one such musician. Flute recitals can venture quite easily into overly familiar terrain, with the kind of easily digestible material that has made the instrument so popular. Ms. Kang managed to avoid that, with a program that included some rarities, a world premiere, and a virtuoso showpiece of true musical value. Her partners in this recital, the pianist Heejin Kim and the harpist Yeon Hwa Chung, provided seamless support as ensemble players and shone beautifully in their many passages of solo playing.

At some point before the evening of the concert, the advertised program was altered slightly to omit a Handel Sonata and to include Emile Noblot’s Andantino for Flute and Harp and Ibert’s Entr’acte. Noblot, a French pianist who studied at the Conservatoire de Paris, became a renowned bandleader, and a staple of French radio broadcasts after World War II. The harmonic language, use of the whole tone scale, and structure of his Andantino reflect the still pervasive influence of Debussy on many mid-century composers. Ms. Kang was wise to choose this as an opener. Her strengths, a big beautiful tone, smooth legato phrasing, and fine breath control, were immediately apparent. Ms. Chung played with an acute sensitivity to dynamics.

Jacques Ibert’s Entr’acte, frequently played as an encore, provided Ms. Kang with an opportunity to feature the more fiery side of her temperament. Here, the composer, an avid Hispanophile, painted a tonal portrait of a traditional Spanish dance, complete with percussive effects on the flute to replicate the rhythmic stomping of the dancer. Ms. Kang easily negotiated the rapid staccato passages and shifted beautifully between contrasting dynamics. Perhaps the harp lacks some of the bite of the guitar, but I was happy to hear the engaging musicality of Ms. Chung once more.

A more substantive composition, the Bartók Suite Paysanne Hongroise, occupied the largest spot on the program’s first half. This solo piano work, arranged for flute and piano by Bartok’s student, Paul Arma, is one of the fruits of the composer’s many years of research into the folk music of the Carpathian Basin. It’s a fascinating arrangement of a rich trove of musical material. Ms. Kang and her pianist, Heejin Kim, delivered a solid account of a work that poses many technical and stylistic challenges. I especially enjoyed the improvisatory feel of the first song, the bluesy quality of the second, and the infectious fourth, with its leaps into Alpine territory amidst the driving foundation of the piano part. The finale of the whole suite, a multi-tiered accelerando into a virtually unplayable tempo, made for great musical theater. Ms. Kang may have faltered slightly at the climax, but it was still an exciting ride.

A bit of esoterica, the Sonatine by Walter Gieseking, brought us slightly further into the twentieth century chronologically, if not compositionally. Gieseking, one of the giants of French pianism, who adopted Germany as his home, was also an active composer. The Sonatine, a very attractive work in three movements, owes a great debt to the influence of Francis Poulenc, an exact contemporary of Gieseking. The simple walking melodies over unexpected harmonic changes and the Gallic cabaret waltzes are the language of Poulenc, and they are present in the Sonatine also. Of all the works so far, this one posed the most challenges for Ms. Kang in interpretation and execution. The moments of rubato in the second movement felt somewhat forced, and in the last movement, a test for anyone’s stamina, she seemed to lose steam on the repeated high notes. Still, I’m grateful to have heard such a charming piece, written by an artist whom I admire so much.

The world premiere, Beceues, by Vartan Aghababian, was an intelligent piece of programming, offering thematic continuity with both the Bartók (works derived from folk tunes) and the Schubert (theme and variations). Mr. Aghababian, who has had extensive experience in film scoring and editing, wrote well for Ms. Kang’s talents. With a leisurely pace, and long, shapely phrases, the flutist played with a dreamlike quality, as if recalling a memory from the distant past. It was a thoroughly convincing performance.

Only a confident artist like Ms. Kang would leave the meatiest and most technically taxing piece for last, but it was a pleasure to hear her rendition. Trockne Blumen, one of the last songs in Schubert’s Die schöne Müllerin cycle, is the basis for a set of variations for flute and, just as notably, piano. Though the Introduction is bleak (mirrored by the flutist with a colorless, pale tone), the variations, in full blown Romantic style, pull out all the stops. Ms. Kang and Ms. Kim aced it all – torrents of arpeggios, cascading triplets in both flute and piano, and the final variation ending in a barrage of brilliant sixteenth notes. To their credit, they made affecting music in the process. This was a satisfying end to a well balanced concert by three promising, gifted musicians.

by David La Marche for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

Orchestra Moderne NYC: Women Warriors: The Voices of Change in Review

Amy Andersson, Founder and Music Director

Composers: Nathalie Bonin, Miriam Cutler, Anne-Kathrin Dern, Sharon Farber, Mandy Hoffman, Penka Kouneva, Starr Parodi, and Lolita Ritmanis

Guest performers: Sonita Alizadeh, Isolde Fair, Nathalie Bonin, Gillian Hassert, Riga Cathedral Girls’ Choir TIARA, The Visionary Singers

Honorary speaker: Masih Alinejad

Alice Tully Hall, Lincoln Center, New York, NY

September 20, 2019

Lincoln Center’s Alice Tully Hall was the venue for Orchestra Moderne NYC’s Women Warriors: The Voices of Change, a multimedia symphony concert celebrating women activists who are fighting for social justice. I’m certain the hall and the date had to be secured at least a year ago or more, but it seemed eerily apposite that this thrilling, innovative orchestral concert was given on the day that millions of people, many of them schoolchildren, called a “climate strike” in protest of the political inaction on an issue that threatens the very host we all rely on: Earth.

Any fears I had about the event being more “agenda” than “art” were quickly allayed by two things: the quality of the performances, and the sheer emotional power of the coordinating images. How many times do you get to witness an Afghan young girl, exiled to Iran, who has been sold into marriage twice (age 10 and 16), and is now a rapper?

I wish one event like this could move the hearts of those whose hearts need moving, but alas, humans never seem to learn. All the issues on this powerful affirmation of women’s strengths are still, sadly, pertinent and unsolved. Basic freedom, AIDS/HIV, LGBTQ rights, war/peace, religious clothing requirements, climate change, clean water, child brides, police overreach, gun violence, sexual assault, reproductive choice.

This made for an evening that would have been hard to take were it not for the superlative assembly of much-awarded women composers for film, television, and even video games. Add to that a well-curated visual screen behind the performers, with documentary stills and moving footage of historic women’s rights figures and current events.

This concert event should be required viewing at the U.N. general assembly that begins in New York on Monday; and it should be done in every high school and college domestically and worldwide.

The concert was divided into “chapters,” each dealing with a different social issue. I understand that Amy Andersson, the founder and music director of the Orchestra Moderne NYC, worked on realizing the concept for two years. Those are two well-spent years. The number of world premieres in one event was stunning.

For way too long, the female element has been marginalized: composers, conductors, performers (except perhaps in opera) have not been represented with the same privilege as their male counterparts, and it continues. But events like this go a long way toward redressing that. May there be many more.

by Frank Daykin for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) Artist Series presents Lela Kaplowitz in Review

Lela Kaplowitz, jazz vocalist

Joe Kaplowitz, piano; Lucia Kaplowitz, violin; Mat Muntz, double bass; Gary Fritz, percussion

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

September 19, 2019

Croatian-born jazz singer/songwriter Lela Kaplowitz gave a largely entertaining, always sincere, concert on Thursday night. It was essentially a live performance of her latest CD, titled To One. She was backed by a four-piece ensemble that included her husband Joe Kaplowitz (an excellent jazz pianist), daughter Lucia Kaplowitz(violin, and vocal and beatbox contributions), and two other fine musicians, double bassist Mat Muntz, and percussionist Gary Fritz.

For my taste, in this idiom, the vocals could have used a microphone, for Ms. Kaplowitz threatened to be swallowed up by her small backup team. A CD can be engineered so that these issues go away, but a live performance has its own rules.

That being said, I wish I could convince my classical singers to have the physical freedom Ms. Kaplowitz exhibited, as well as her joyful charisma. This made her message, a sort of “new-age” jazz effusion, much more compelling.

The lyrics were somewhat cliché, although the universality of them could not be gainsaid. Ms. Kaplowitz wishes to create a musical experience that will be elevating for all listeners, with music as a positive, vibrating force. I agree with the thesis, but I did not find the comparisons with the “great singer-songwriter era of the 1970s” as stated in her manifesto. No matter, she absolutely portrayed her own personal vitality with her engaging stage presence.

Seven of the selections were arranged to coordinate with the seven chakras, or spiritual energy centers of the body, according to ancient Hindu texts. They contain healing energy and can be unblocked for greater vitality in life.

Clearly, Ms. Kaplowitz believes in this life force, and her personal radiance went a long way toward redeeming the sameness of some of the material. She also generously gave solos to each member of her ensemble, all of whom were wonderful.

I would like to hear Ms. Kaplowitz again in covers of more standard jazz perhaps from the American songbook, or Croatian songbook. Now that would be something unusual!

by Frank Daykin for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

Eun Chong Ju: Camille Saint-Saëns – Introduction and Rondo Capriccioso, Op. 28 in Review

Eun Chong Ju, violin

Min Kyung Kim, piano

Recorded at First Korean United Methodist Church, Main Chapel, Richardson, TX,

Oct 28, 2018

Korean born violinist Eun Chong Ju, with pianist Min Kyung Kim, recently released her recording of the Introduction and Rondo Capriccioso, Op. 28 by Camille Saint-Saëns. There are no physical copies available, but it is digitally available from iTunes, Spotify, and YouTube Music.

Composed in 1863 for Pablo de Sarasate (1844-1908), this work has been a mainstay of the violin repertoire ever since. It has become almost a mandatory showpiece for violinists to dazzle audiences with their virtuosity. Indeed, one can easily access performances of nearly every big-name (and not- so-big name) violinist. Millions of new listeners were introduced to this work after it was featured in an episode of the anime series Shigastu wa kimi no uso (Your Lie in April). It is thus reasonable for a listener to ask in what way another recording of such a warhorse can be differentiated from the others. In a way, a listener needs to put on “fresh ears” for each performance, and Ms. Ju’s recording is no exception.

This listener has always tried to judge live performances “in the moment” and to resist making too many comparisons to other performances; when the performances have been recorded, however, the listener ‘s expectation level is higher, given the opportunities for multiple takes and editing. Also, comparisons with other recordings are inevitable, though some of those comparisons are unhelpful or even misleading, such as the “Stopwatch” approach (Performance A lasted 1:43, Performance B lasted 1:39, often with the implication that “faster is better” when it may be the exact opposite!). Technique and tonal quality are fair game for comparison, but often the key differences are stylistic choices, in which the preference of the listener rules the day.

Now, with all that said, it is time to get to it. First, the positives: Ms. Ju is fearless in her approach; there is nothing tentative or lacking in commitment. There is a good amount of “swagger” where appropriate, and the pacing is effective. She does not try to gloss over difficult passages by increasing the tempo and sliding over the notes. The articulation is generally clean, and the ensemble is commendable.

Now, on to the negatives. In the effort to make every note heard, there is a certain heaviness that weighs down the rapid passages. One misses the light bounce bow work that one often hears in other performances. There are also some signs of straining, especially in the extreme upper register, along with some problems in the triple-stop section, with one particularly jarring moment. All this being said, these are issues that can certainly be addressed in future performances/recordings.

Ms. Ju is without a doubt a talented and promising musician. This recording shows that she is a work in progress, and I wish her the best in developing her talents and career.

by Jeffrey Williams for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

The Palisades School of Music Presents William Chen in Review

William Chen, piano

Merkin Hall, Kaufman Music Center, New York, NY

September 8, 2019

This past Sunday at Merkin Hall, sixteen-year-old pianist William Chen gave an impressive recital of extremely demanding works by Bach, Beethoven, Schubert, Chopin, Rachmaninoff, and Lowell Liebermann. Though I do not recall ever hearing about this pianist, he is clearly an outstanding young artist to watch.

The program was a large one which many professional pianists would be hard pressed to pull off after many more years of study, degrees, and concertizing than Mr. Chen has had. This is not to suggest that Mr. Chen has any shortage of credentials either, by the way, as his biography already lists numerous concerts throughout the world and a substantial list of awards (from the Bosendorfer and Yamaha USASU Competition, the New York Music Competition for Young Artists, the Kaufman International Piano Youth Competition, AADGT, Young Pianist Competition of NJ, New England Conservatory Preparatory Concerto Competition, and more – as well as being a Young Scholar of the Lang Lang International Music Foundation); one has to remind oneself, though, that he is still just in high school (at the Special Music School in NY), so to have conquered such a program reflects not only exceptional talent but a level of commitment that is extraordinary for one so young.

To open, Mr. Chen played Bach’s Prelude and Fugue in E-flat minor (WTC I) with solemn composure and attention to phrasing and tone. He allowed himself a prolonged wait before starting (as he did before almost each piece), and it was wise, not only to allow various ringtones and other noises to abate, but to draw listeners into the pianist’s musical realm. He let the somber opening sing and showed consummate tonal control and restraint in its pacing. The Fugue unfolded with clarity in each voice whether direct, inverted, or in one of the ten remarkable stretti. Some players exaggerate the subject’s fifths and fourths to the point of resembling foghorns, but Mr. Chen’s approach was both restrained and lyrical, creating the transparency of texture that is ideal for this piece.

Beethoven’s Sonata Op. 10, No. 3 in D Major followed in a performance that was hard to fault, honoring Beethoven with fidelity to the score and a persuasive projection of its drama and architecture. There was no shortage of pianistic prowess in the outer movements, but it was the slow movement, the tragic Largo e mesto, which impressed most. Here Mr. Chen showed that he can sustain the life of long lines even at a glacial tempo, leaving the audience with bated breath until the very last note.

For those craving fireworks, Mr. Chen gave Lowell Liebermann’s four Gargoyles an exciting ride before intermission. Explosive bursts enlivened the opening Presto, and the third (Allegro moderato) was positively shimmering. The powerhouse finale, Presto feroce, let out all the stops. If one wanted a bit more shape to the phrases in the second, Adagio semplice, ma con molto rubato, it may mean that this listener was getting a bit spoiled. All in all, the set made a fantastic finish to the first half, and one could hardly believe that Rachmaninoff’s expansive Variations on a Theme of Corelli, Op. 42, and Schubert’s notoriously difficult “Wanderer” Fantasy, Op. 15 were yet to come!

Before the two remaining large works, the second half opened with a sensitive rendering of Chopin’s Nocturne in D-flat Major (Op. 27, No. 2), which prospered from Mr. Chen’s keen ear for tonal beauty and mature phrasing, including the seamless blending of one tone into the next. It boded well for the Rachmaninoff Corelli Variations, with its many melodic outpourings.

The Rachmaninoff did not disappoint, and in fact one marveled again at this young player’s composure and mastery through some of its virtuosic passages. My handful of reservations included the need for still more softness where Rachmaninoff marked “pianissimo.” It becomes especially important where it marks a thematic return in Variations II and IV (the latter being admittedly difficult in the low register, but still worthy of care). Elsewhere, various infamous spots were handled with great skill (e.g., the left-hand double notes in Variation X), and even the oft-smudged Variation XX stayed reasonably on target. One may have wanted a bit more savoring of the incredible harmonization of Variation XIV, but again (pinching oneself), this pianist is not even out of high school. There will surely room for more spontaneous reverie in the years to come.

Perhaps adrenaline played a role in what seemed an emphasis on momentum, or perhaps at heart was some awareness that the “Wanderer” Fantasy still lay ahead – this program was, after all, very weighty for an average audience. Rachmaninoff himself was not oblivious to such matters of audience engagement, as he once wrote about his own performance of these same variations, “I was guided by the coughing of the audience. Whenever the coughing would increase, I would skip the next variation. Whenever there was no coughing, I would play them in proper order.” In the case of Mr. Chen’s program, if there had been any such concern, it might have been advisable to omit the Chopin Nocturne and let the two larger pieces breathe more fully (and the Chopin could even have been saved for an encore).

In any case, Schubert’s “Wanderer” Fantasy was excellent, and it showed a strong grasp of its technical challenges, voicing demands, and sprawling structure. Once again, there seemed a need for greater softness where marked pianissimo, and perhaps at heart was a fear of not projecting, but the good news is that all projected quite well, so an exploration of the lower dynamic extremes in a few spots should indeed be possible. There certainly was no lack of stamina, and in what was almost an “embarrassment of riches” Mr. Chen responded to his final ovation with a sizzling account of Liszt’s La Campanella. What, no Islamey?

All kidding aside, such a concert represents an enormous achievement, after which it is hoped that this pianist can enjoy a short breather for some of his other professed interests of “reading, movies, board games, clouds, geography and maps, hiking, scuba diving, and private piloting.” While William Chen deserves huge accolades, congratulations are also in order to those who are raising him and to his teachers, Michael Thomopoulos and Wha Kyung Byun. Bravo! With both talent and such a superb foundation, there should be continued greatness ahead.

by Rorianne Schrade for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

Rosa Antonelli Bridges: From Chopin to Piazzolla CD in Review

Music of Frédéric Chopin, Georges Mathias, Alberto Williams, Alberto Ginastera, and Astor Piazzolla

Rosa Antonelli, piano

Recorded by Max Ross, April 2019 at Systems Two, New York, NY;

Mixed and Mastered by Mike Marciano

Cover Photo: Chris Lee

Albany Records TROY1783 (2019)

Argentinian pianist Rosa Antonelli, whom I had the pleasure of reviewing favorably in 2016 at an Alberto Ginastera Centennial concert, has come out with a fascinating new themed program on a CD entitled “Bridges.” It includes five composers, starting with Chopin and continuing with four subsequent composers (linked directly or indirectly to Chopin) whose music over the course of five generations helped to build an Argentinian style of piano composition – Georges Mathias, Alberto Williams, Alberto Ginastera, and Astor Piazzolla.

Ms. Antonelli describes in her own words the origins of the project, involving its underlying Romanticism: “It all started at my last concert at Carnegie Hall when Susan Bush, president of Albany Records, who was in the audience, came backstage after the recital and said, ‘When you played Chopin as an encore, I heard Piazzolla’s music – it’s all romantic!’ I heard similar comments from others in the audience, and I’ve felt the same for many years.” The “Bridges” CD was thus born – referring not just to diachronic bridges but to bridges between nations and cultures. Ms. Antonelli extends this concept stating that, “when we create art, we all do it together, building bridges across borders.”

Though the bridge theme is appealing, the draw for this listener was the inclusion of two composers, Georges Mathias (1826-1910) and Alberto Williams (1862-1952), both largely unknown or forgotten throughout much of the world (though highly regarded in their lifetimes) and both heard here in five world premieres (bringing the CD premiere tally to seven, counting two Piazzolla works premiered in piano versions). I couldn’t wait to hear these rarities! In many cases, the rediscovery of long-lost music can yield disappointment (as some have said, many things are forgotten for a reason); in this case, though, while I can’t profess undying love of Georges Mathias (yet), the music of Alberto Williams here has definitely opened doors of discovery, and I am holding out hope for further appreciation – more on that later.

As far as Ginastera (1916-1983) and Piazzolla (1921-1992) go, Ms. Antonelli has for many years performed music of these celebrated composers, and she does so with flair and sensitivity. Highlights of the CD for this reviewer included Ms. Antonelli’s Danza del Trigo (“Dance of Wheat”) from Ginastera’s Estancias, played with such haunting beauty that it seems reason enough on its own to purchase the CD. Interestingly, as I looked over my review of Ms. Antonelli’s 2016 Ginastera concert (Rosa Antonelli in Review), I saw that her performance of the Danza del Trigo affected me similarly then then as well.

To return to the CD as a whole, it is beautifully planned to form over 75 minutes of lyrical and atmospheric piano selections that are simpatico despite geographically diverse histories. It opens with a thoughtfully conceived group of Chopin selections, from the opening C-sharp minor Nocturne (posthumous) to the same composer’s F-sharp Nocturne Op. 48, No. 2, and on to the Waltz in G-flat (Op. 70, No. 1) in the enharmonic major. The three make quite a compatible grouping mood-wise and key-wise, and one appreciates the artfully planned sequence as well as the overall emphasis on lyricism.

These Chopin works have a distinguished performance history, so inevitably there are some quibbles, including excessive liberties with the score. Those who are not professional musicians may want to skip the rest of this paragraph, but for a musician familiar with the opening Nocturne there was too much stretching and shortening of note values beyond what might be considered justifiable (yes, there is rubato in Chopin, but the German Augmented sixths in the second and fourth measures of the opening Nocturne are nearly double in value here). In general, Ms. Antonelli is quite a persuasive interpreter, but such discrepancies with Chopin’s manuscript and respected editions are distracting, including the substitution of F-sharps in the left hand at measure 8 where the manuscript has D-sharps, some added and omitted notes, and significant changes of melody and harmony at measure 26 (though the latter change does appear in an Alfred Cortot edition). Added bass octaves in measure 59 and in the very last measure seem to “gild the lily” as well.

All quibbles aside, Ms. Antonelli establishes with flair the Chopin premise for the disc, and if the Waltz in G-flat has a measured feel that keeps it from taking its usual flight, it still serves as a good aural backdrop for the pieces of Georges Mathias that follow.

The music of Mathias (who studied with Chopin and later taught at the Paris Conservatoire) is represented here by his Romance sans Paroles, Op. 18, No. 4 and his Caprice-Valse, Op. 38, No. 1. The Romance (from the 1850’s) is full of the sentimental sighing motives and plaintive chromaticism that characterize much salon music of the time. Ms. Antonelli proves herself to be an ardent advocate for it, and one is grateful for her work in unearthing it, even if its chief interest may ultimately lie in its being the work of one of Chopin’s pupils. The rather coquettish Caprice-Valse (from c. 1865) is another kind of Victorian bonbon one rarely hears today. After a teasing introduction featuring more of the descending minor seconds that pervade the Romance (interesting segue!), the main allegretto begins with some of the feathery pianism that must have tickled salon-goers in the day. Some of it sounds a bit staid to modern ears, and this reviewer did wonder whether a lighter fleeter approach might not enliven it – but then again critiques must be balanced with gratitude for the unearthing. One’s curiosity was certainly piqued to explore this composer further.

In that spirit of exploration, a score for the Caprice-Valse was found online (Heugel edition), and one did notice that Ms. Antonelli has omitted quite a lot of notated ornaments in it, including the first page’s chain of grace notes, which would have probably lent the music a more playful character. One assumes that there was some compelling reason for such edits, as, despite stated themes relating to bridges and borders, there are some individual boundaries to a composer’s own creative realm, established largely through such notation! Mr. Mathias was certainly no stranger to matters of notation, as he was also a professor who taught piano to the next featured composer of the CD, Alberto Williams.

Buenos Aires-born Alberto Williams is described in the liner notes (credited to J. Michael Allsen) as “a leading figure in Argentina for over 50 years,” and he had become a pupil of Georges Mathias at age 20 (1882) on scholarship at the Paris Conservatoire before returning to his native Argentina in 1889. To those who read great importance into pedagogic lineage, Alberto Williams could be considered a “grand-pupil” of Chopin, or as Mr. Allsen puts it, “the keystone of this arch” from Chopin to later music of Argentina. Representing Alberto Williams here are three works, starting with the somber Valse, Op. 29, No. 3, chosen from a set of pieces for young players (1891). The Valse reflects perhaps the academic strictures of Williams’ composition teacher, César Franck, more than any pianistic gifts from Chopin’s legacy (aside from one lyrically rhapsodic episode), but considerably more substantial is Williams’ Novelette, Op. 8 (from 1886), not specified for students and more ambitious pianistically. It may owe its inspiration (and name) to Schumann, but it remains a youthful effort.

The greatest individuality by far emerges from Williams in his Huella, Op. 46, No. 1, dating from 1904, around fifteen years after the composer’s return to Argentina. Here, at last, is a distinct voice. There are, as the liner notes describe, “two alternating sections of music, one pounding out the characteristic 6/8 rhythm of the folk huella and a second featuring a more gentle alternation of duple and triple meter.” Here are the beginnings of an Argentinian piano style that surely helped to usher in Ginastera and Piazzola. It is fresh, colorful and original, and it whetted one’s appetite for more. Perhaps there will be a “Bridges II” CD with more of this composer’s later music. Beyond this, perhaps Ms. Antonelli will help to produce an international edition, as it is currently difficult, if not impossible, to obtain much of Alberto Williams’ music in the US.

Though Alberto Ginastera needs little introduction, it was particularly eye-opening to rehear some of his music after some music of Alberto Williams, his teacher during conservatory years in Buenos Aires (before Copland in the US). There is definitely a bridge here which Ms. Antonelli helped to make audible and which warrants deeper study. In addition to the stunning Danza del Trigo there is magic in the twilight romance of Idilio crepuscular and the driving dance Pequeña Danza with the spirit of the gaucho, here a bit more restrained than one is accustomed to hearing.

Six of Ginastera’s Twelve American Preludes follow, including Sadness, Vidala, Homenaje a Robert Garcia Morillo (composer and critic), Pastorale, Homenaje a Juan José Castro (conductor and composer), and Creole Dance. Highlights included the hypnotic Pastorale and the “tempo di tango” of the subsequent Castro tribute. The final rustic dance finds Ms. Antonelli unleashing more energy than in her other selections, before the Ginastera group closes with the despairing Milonga, an effective transition to the more popular genres of Astor Piazzolla, who is the next and final of the five composers.

There seems little left to explore in the increasingly popular work of Piazzolla, but his Balada para un Loco (“Ballad for a Fool” – slow tango) is captivating in Ms. Antonelli’s hands, as is the very famous Oblivion which follows. Premieres of two “new” (for piano) pieces close the CD, including La Partida (“The Parting” – a zamba) and a piece in candombe form entitled Yo soy el Negro (“I am the Black Man”). These latter two are atmospheric pieces, but with a great degree of repeating rhythms and motives which become taxing to one accustomed to truly focused listening. Perhaps the latter is hard to sustain without lyrics, but for those who seek simply some gently ambient Argentine music, it should fit the bill.

All in all, there is much to enjoy here. The CD is available at Amazon.com, AlbanyRecords.com, ArkivMusic.com, and iTunes.

by Rorianne Schrade for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents¡Buena Onda! Music from South America in Review

María Guinand, guest Conductor; Martín Palmeri, composer/conductor; Saul Zaks, guest conductor; Alberto Grau, DCINY Composer-in-Residence

Carla Filipcic Holm, soprano; Kirsten Allegri Williams, mezzo-soprano; Shawn Mlynek, tenor; André Chiang, baritone

Daniel Binelli, Bandoneón

Distinguished Concerts Orchestra and Distinguished Concerts Singers International

Carnegie Hall, Stern Auditorium, New York, NY

June 23, 2019

There certainly was plenty of buena onda (good vibes) in DCINY’s final offering of the season, another typically well-sung, perhaps overly generous, program of massed choirs. The vibes were provided by two distinguished Venezuelans: Alberto Grau (born in Spain) and María Guinand; and two eminent Argentinians: Martín Palmeri and Saul Zaks. The international contingent was particularly varied, with Netherlands, Brazil, Argentina, Switzerland, Austria, Germany, Hong Kong, France, United Kingdom, and Russia represented. In fact, the only flaw I could find in this afternoon of music was in myself, a certain cultural distance that caused me to give myself a few sermons (silently) during it.

Whatever shortcomings Venezuela may have as a nation-state at the moment, they have certainly mastered bringing a healthy, fun relationship to music into the lives of children, mainly through the seemingly miraculous educational method called El Sistema, which has produced, notably, Gustavo Dudamel, and many others. Both Mr. Grau and Ms. Guinand are veteran musician-teachers within the system.

Mr. Grau’s music incorporates bodily movements (often called eurhythmics) to go along with the rather simple folk and childlike tunes he employs. The Cinco Canciones Infantiles is a reworking of music about El San Pedro (Saint Peter), whose festival parranda takes place on 29 June. A few centuries ago, in joyful thanks from a slave mother whose daughter was cured of a severe fever through prayer, she promised to honor the saint with song and dance. The choir was called upon to whoosh, clap, and otherwise move rhythmically, which they did with unflagging enthusiasm. Solo groups taken from the larger choir sang with assurance. Their leader, Ms. Guinand, led the proceedings with a very holistic atmosphere; how lucky these young musicians are to be exposed to such a master. She elicited myriad colors and real, subtle diminuendos from the choir.

The same forces stayed in position to render Mr. Grau’s Opereta Ecológico, in which four natural things: wind, river, sea, and tree, all extol their own value in poetic lines. His style is consistent- more eurhythmics and good humor. At a time when the earth’s very future habitability is being called into question, these little sermons are more relevant than ever.

A pause was needed to change out the children’s choir for adults and prepare for Martín Palmeri’s first offering, the celebrated Misatango. As I mentioned in my review of his Tango Credo (April 30, 2017), the tango, a sublimated erotic ritual dance involving great contrasts of attraction and repulsion, seems a “wrong fit” for the Catholic Mass. That’s where one of those “self-sermons” came in for me: I realized that the Baroque excesses of Bach and the high-Classical operatic styles of Haydn and Mozart were also once considered “inappropriate” music for worship, as compared with the sobriety of Palestrina’s counterpoint. So, time moves on, and it’s best to be flexible about such matters!

Carla Filipcic Holm, a large-voiced soprano (but one with control and shadings) has long been associated with this composer and work, and she delivered beautifully, as did bandoneón player Daniel Binelli. The feeling and sabor were perfect.

After intermission, Mr. Palmeri presented (from the keyboard as he had done in the Misatango) the other four newly-composed movements of his Gran Misa, again in full tango style—the conductor was the excellent Saul Zaks. (Credo and Gloria have been performed before.) Oboe and trumpet (instruments not shunned by Bach, but not customarily found in tango bands) were given pride of place. Mr. Palmeri’s orchestration is ingenious and interesting, and the choral work was very good. If performed in its entirety, all six movements would form a nearly two-hour work. Two hours of tangos is a lot for me- I do apologize for my limitation, I certainly need an Argentine immersion experience! All the soloists (Ms.Holm, Kirsten Allegri Williams, Shawn Mlynek, and André Chiang) were excellent, and the large supportive audience went wild with their admiration, and why wouldn’t they?

by Frank Daykin for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Calling All Dawns in Review

Swiss Gospel Singers & Friends

Christer Løvold, Director, Piano

Jonathan Griffith, DCINY Artistic Director and Principal Conductor

Christopher Tin, Composer/Conductor

Distinguished Concerts Orchestra

Distinguished Concerts Singers International

Carnegie Hall, Stern Auditorium, New York, NY

June 9, 2019

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) curated another typically (over-)generous program of choral music, and most of it was very well done. If I were to re-title the afternoon, it would have to be something like “The Victory of Globalism.” The massed choirs were even more international than usual, with Germany, Hungary, Switzerland, France, and Trinidad & Tobago, as well as the domestic participants. All told, somewhere north of 500 singers participated.

Swiss Gospel Singers are three words one doesn’t anticipate seeing in succession, and never did I think I would be hearing and reviewing such a group. Nevertheless, the choir of about 100, composed of four separate choirs all directed by Christer Løvold, was well-trained and their ensemble was good. Four of the ten selections seemed to exemplify the best of what I expect when the word “gospel” is used, that is, a certain ecstatic worship fervor and a genuine sense of swing. Those four were: The Sweetest Song I Know, To My Father’s House, Kyrie, and Will The Circle Be Unbroken? However, the choir was often nearly drowned out (something that rarely happens at a DCINY event) by the amplified small jazzy instrumental ensemble that accompanied them. Well-done solos, both instrumental and vocal, were conveyed by some of these same players. The other selections made a somewhat anodyne impression.

After a reset to orchestra and massed chorus, Robert Ray’s Gospel Mass delivered on its promise of combining the Catholic Ordinary of the regular mass with the aforementioned ecstatic enthusiasms of true gospel. Hard to believe, but when this work was composed, just over 40 years ago, it was intended as an experiment, for one performance only! Its longevity is a testament to its quality. Jonathan Griffith helmed the group with his trademark excellence, bringing out every thrilling detail—no balance issues here. Vanessa Thomas was the super soloist.

After intermission, it was Christopher Tin’s turn to lead his massive, truly global song cycle Calling All Dawns, which gave its name to the entire concert. Mr. Tin is a two-time Grammy winner whose music has been performed in Carnegie Hall, Lincoln Center, and the Hollywood Bowl, among others. His song Baba Yetu, originally written for the video game Civilization IV, holds the distinction of being the first piece of music written for a video game ever to win a Grammy Award. Mr. Tin’s Calling All Dawns won him his second Grammy in 2011 for Best Classical Crossover. He also composed the opening song from the recent hit movie Crazy Rich Asians.

Calling All Dawns is so vast in scope and conception, it is hard to convey in words. Multiple languages are sung, and vocal soloists range from traditional “western” oratorio singers to Portuguese fadistas, Indian classical vocalists, and Maori chanters! The cycle is divided into three sections: Day, Night, and Dawn, each with prayers for the three stages of life: birth, death, and rebirth. Joy, mystery, and hardship, as Mr. Tin states in his excellent, brief note, all mirror the complicated nature of human beings. The work ends in triumph, however, after all the darker challenges, new life wins. “Life is always right/And I do not fear mine/Whatever comes, let it come” and “I do not fear life/Nor its counterpoint/Whatever comes, let it come” were very inspiring moments, as well as the line “Gather, gather and go forward!” A beautiful affirmation for a June day, indeed.

by Frank Daykin for New York Concert Review; New York, NY