Distinguished Concerts Orchestra, Distinguished Concerts Singers International

Jonathan Griffith, Artistic Director/Principal Conductor

Pepper Choplin, composer/conductor

Randol Bass, DCINY composer-in-residence

Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

November 18, 2018

The holiday season is upon us, in what seems to be coming earlier and earlier each year. The retailers are already clamoring for shoppers with promises of “doorbusters” and other deals galore – it can be overwhelming even to the hardiest souls! With a nod to the “early” idea, Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) offered a pre-Thanksgiving Day concert on November 18^th entitled A Symphony of Carols, featuring the music of Pepper Choplin and Randol Bass. The commercial aspect was nowhere to be found, as this was a concert focused on the original concept of Christmas, the celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ. Singers from Arizona, California, Colorado, Illinois, Georgia, New Jersey, New York, North Carolina, South Carolina, Canada, and “individual singers from around the globe” made up the choruses of the Distinguished Concerts Singers International.

Pepper Choplin took the podium to conduct the first half, which consisted of two of his works, Come, Emmanuel, and Christmas Presence (World Premiere). This is Mr. Choplin’s sixth appearance with DCINY. I have written about Mr. Choplin multiple times, but I will simply restate that he pairs an outsized personality with the strong spiritual faith that is a hallmark of his compositions.

Come, Emmanuel is a bright three-minute work for chorus and orchestra filled with joy at the anticipation of the birth of Christ. It is what the composer calls a “simple motet” – but with a “surprise ending.” It was an upbeat opener, with the surprise ending being (spoiler alert) an enormous shout of “Come!” by the chorus.

Christmas Presence is a thirty-minute, eight-movement work. About the title, the program notes state, “In this work the concept of being present weaves throughout the music and narration [and] presents a challenge to experience Christmas in God’s presence and the presence of those around us” (italicized words are in the text of the notes). This is a high ideal and one that I do believe Mr. Choplin did aspire to in his composition.

The diction of the chorus was remarkable. Each word was crystal clear, so that while the listener had the texts available, they were completely unnecessary. This is rare experience. All credit is due to both Mr. Choplin’s skill in vocal writing and the superb preparation of the chorus. Special mention goes to soloist Renee Calvo, whose lovely voice filled the hall in the sixth movement, Still They Are Here (at Christmastime).

As well as being a composer, Mr. Choplin is a dynamic conductor who energized both orchestra and chorus into giving it their utmost. Every movement had so much emotion that one could not help thinking that each one could easily be used as a stand-alone piece. That said, this listener must express some reservations. There was a need for more contrast from selection to selection, and there was what seemed to be a planned formula of climaxes. I am a huge fan of tonal music, but when it is unrelentingly consonant and sweet, it quickly becomes featureless, and when climaxes are so frequent, one risks sounding trite.

Whatever reservations this listener had were not shared by the large audience, who cheered loudly after each movement, and rewarded Mr. Choplin and the musicians with a standing ovation at the end. Mr. Choplin knows his audience well. If his goal is to please them, then one must admit that he was highly successful.

After intermission, Randol Bass joined Jonathan Griffith for an impromptu conservation about Ms. Bass’s works being played this evening. Like Mr. Choplin, Mr. Bass has a big personality, paired with a modest, self-effacing sense of humor enjoyed by all; on a serious note, however, Maestro Griffith told the audience that he wished to dedicate the second half of the concert to the memory of Mr. Bass’s mother, who recently passed away.

The half opened with Gloria, which is probably the most frequently performed of Mr. Bass’s works. When asked about it, he joked about it being short (seven minutes) and being used as program filler. He’s being far too modest – Gloria is a dynamic work, filled with rhythmic vitality, and also playable by a large variety of ensembles of wide-ranging abilities. It was a rousing start.

The World Premiere of Carols from a Victorian Fireside (movements two and three) followed. As Mr. Bass related in his talk, the melodies for this work come from the pen of Sir Arthur Sullivan (yes, that Sir Arthur Sullivan). Mr. Bass came upon these melodies while exploring a website dedicated to Sullivan – they were intended for a larger work that was never completed, sketches of which only exist in a facsimile of Sullivan’s handwriting. Mr. Bass took these sketches and orchestrated them with chorus. The first, Christmas Bells at Sea was a ballad that was probably more Bass than Sullivan, but the second, The Marquis de Mince- Pie/Care is all Fiddle-dee-dee, was as if the spirit of Sir Arthur channeled directly from the pen of Mr. Bass. It was a delightful romp that was the highlight of the evening for this listener, all the more remarkable as I do not care for Gilbert and Sullivan in the least! Bravo, Mr. Bass!

Yet one more World Premiere followed, Laus Nativitatis. This combined two well-known Latin Texts, Hodie Christus Natus Est (Christ is Born Today) and O Magnum Mysterium (O, Great Mystery). It is filled with that exuberance and rhythmic vitality that is a hallmark of Mr. Bass’s style, but it is also harmonically interesting, with highly chromatic writing. The chorus was at times covered by the orchestra, but the overall effect was excellent. This work has the same potential for popularity as Gloria.

Symphony of Carols, in the form of a four-movement choral symphony, closed the concert. Each movement took a traditional carol, sung first in the original language (French, Catalan, German, and Latin), and then repeated in English translation. Mr. Bass dedicated this work to John Williams, and it has a certain similarity to Williams’ style. The familiar sounds of Stille Nacht and Adeste Fidelis filled the hall with Christmas cheer, as Maestro Griffith led with his customary steady hand. It was a fine ending to a night of joy and celebration.

Ivan Gusev, Piano

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

November 17, 2018

The name Ivan Gusev is a name one keeps encountering lately in association with exciting musical events of all kinds. Last season, for starters, this reviewer had the pleasure of hearing him in a performance of Grieg’s Piano Concerto in A minor as winner of a concerto competition the Mannes School of Music at the New School (the reader may see that review by clicking here: 2017 Mannes Concerto Competition Winners in Review). This week Mr. Gusev played a highly demanding solo program at Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall. In the interim, he has, among other pianistic activities, won a prize in the Chopin International Piano Competition, 2018 (USA) – to add to his already substantial list of awards and accolades – and has graduated with a Master of Music degree from Mannes, as a student of Jerome Rose.

If one had already formed a favorable opinion of Mr. Gusev’s playing last season, his musical gifts were even more clearly apparent in this recital. The program, for starters, contained a wide range of expressive musical styles and tremendous challenges. It included, for its major works, Mendelssohn’s Variations Serieuses, Op. 54 and Scriabin’s Sonata No. 2 in G-sharp minor (“Sonata Fantasy”), Op. 19, on the first half, and Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition on the second half. In addition, there were two Debussy Préludes from Book I, two Rachmaninoff Études-Tableaux from Op. 39, and to open, Scarlatti’s Sonata in F minor, K. 466.

As often happens, some of the shorter works were the most memorable. Mr. Gusev’s Scarlatti immediately established him as the kind of pianist whose playing will not be crimped by dictates of historic performance practice purists. He played with the full range of sounds that a modern grand piano affords and sufficient pedal to give each note a glow that reminded one of Scarlatti in the hands of Vladimir Horowitz. Rhythmically, there was an elasticity which gave shape and momentum to his phrases (with very few “tolls” paid to the downbeats), while never undercutting the solidity of the overall conception or meter. He graced his cantabile melodies with the kind of independence that leaves the left-hand part at times seeming merely to intertwine casually with the right (including some instances of left preceding right by a hair, and the reverse).

Dynamically, he was liberal with small expressive surges, and though some call this tendency “romanticizing,” such expressiveness has undoubtedly breathed life into vocal music since the beginning of time, and the world of piano is not so far removed. In summary, it was Scarlatti that brought a welcome measure of spontaneity to a world of dutiful readings and reflected Mr. Gusev’s familiarity with the styles of history’s great pianists.

Following Scarlatti came Mendelssohn’s Variations Serieuses, Op. 54, one of the composer’s masterpieces dating from 1841-2. Mr. Gusev shaped the weighty opening theme with exceptional dynamic gradation. Overall, the rest of the piece was played admirably too, though for this listener the earlier variations took flight a bit too soon. As compelling as these were, one wanted to savor more their relationship to the original theme, which can require a bit of time and breathing. There is plenty of speed and brilliance later in the piece, as Mr. Gusev made evident – from the fiery arpeggios of Variation VII, to the whirling triplets of VIII and IX, the rapid repeated chords of XII, the staccato passagework in XIII, and of course the virtuosic final variations. All were played with ample firepower, with the main reservations being occasional loss of clarity from some haste and heavy pedaling. A highlight was the D Major Variation XIV – which one would call Brahmsian, if Brahms had not been a mere child of around eight at the time! Here one heard the reverence so richly deserved by a composer too often pigeonholed for his “light fare.”

After the brilliant Mendelssohn came the relatively quiet lull of Rachmaninoff’s Étude -Tableau in A minor, Op. 39, No. 2. This is a piece which, though emotionally powerful with its slow trance-like minor triplets, is extremely hard to sustain for many artists. What impressed one about Ivan Gusev’s performance was that it had the perfect spaciousness for its long introspective opening – and yet without ever dropping the thread of continuity that holds the listener. He demonstrated excellent pacing as he built momentum to the work’s stormy center and returned to its desolate close. This Étude can feel interminable when not played well – but it was just right. Bravo! Again, it is often the smaller works which are memorable. The program continued with more Rachmaninoff, the darkly brilliant E-flat minor Étude, Op. 39, No. 5 played with excellent command.

Mr. Gusev closed the first half with Scriabin’s breathtaking Sonata No. 2, treating the first movement with utmost care in its warmly projected melodies and shimmering accompaniments. This listener favors a slightly slower tempo, simply because one then beholds each facet of that shimmering in all its crystalline glory – but then, that may also reflect this listener’s reluctance for the movement to end. There is not much that can follow such a movement except for the agitation of Scriabin’s seascape in the second movement – and Mr. Gusev played that as well as it can be played.

After intermission came two Debussy Préludes from Book I, No. 2 (Voiles, or Sails) and No. 3 (Le Vent dans le Plain, or Wind in the Plain). Voiles was wonderfully delicate, and both Études showed superb control. The two also set the stage well for more tonal “painting” to come in Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition, which occupied the rest of the program.

Pictures at an Exhibition is the sort of tour de force which demands enormous stamina – and to have it looming at the end of an already demanding program presents formidable challenges. For full disclosure, this reviewer confesses a slight bias against this piece, which often rewards the players of sheer brute force and little else, with some notable exceptions (including irresistible performances by Barry Douglas, particularly in Moscow nearly thirty years ago). A player of subtlety can be up against a juggernaut, though, and it does seem that there are many works of music better suited to Mr. Gusev’s gifts. That said, there was much to admire. Highlights included the Ballet of Unhatched Chicks, given biting precision and lightness, and Limoges, The Market (about which this reviewer noted simply, “quite brilliant”), and Bydlo, evoking the heavy plodding of oxen in its lumbering chords that receded into the distance.

Among reservations was that there was a tendency towards stridency rather than the sonorous grandeur one wanted in the Promenade and some other powerful sections. Some glitches in the fourth Promenade (in B-flat major again) were possibly due to some flagging energy, but there was also some messiness and what seemed excessive pedaling in Baba Yaga (“The Hut on Hen’s Legs”). Some of the latter could be said to enhance the nightmarish quality of that scene, which verges on madness anyway, but the finale, The Great Gate of Kiev, was also not the neatest; small mishaps are inevitable in the hands of the best pianists, however, and the program closed with great spirit.

Mr. Gusev played three encores, starting with Chopin’s posthumous Waltz in A minor. Here one heard more of Mr. Gusev’s imaginative interpreting, and more of those unfettered right-hand cantabile lines. Where the music moved to A major, his delicacy was captivating, with pedaling creating a reverberant effect resembling that of a music-box. He closed this magical waltz with a tossed-off quality that was a bit flippant, but not far from what one heard from some Golden Age pianists – as if to say, “c’est ça!”

A second encore followed, now Schumann’s Träumerei from Kinderszenen, played with a sensitivity and tonal glow worthy – again – of Horowitz. Following more warm applause, Mr. Gusev closed the evening with Chopin’s Waltz in D-flat, Op. 64, No. 1 (the “Minute” Waltz), played with elegance and flair. He is an artist with much to offer and one looks forward to hearing him again.

Charles Neidich, Ayako Oshima, clarinet

Mariko Furukawa, piano

Tenri Cultural Institute, New York, NY

November 10, 2018

For a truly civilized evening in New York, you just can’t beat the Wa concert series, held in the intimate gallery space of the Tenri Cultural Institute in Greenwich Village, with Leschetizky’s Steinway, no less. For this outing, “Virtuosity and Beyond,” our host, the superlative clarinetist Charles Neidich, decried what he calls “empty virtuosity.” What he possesses is certainly not “empty”! He was joined for this concert by his wife, Ayako Oshima ,who also caters the thoughtful hors d’oeuvres, wine, and dinner that are served at each event, and the superb (and busy) collaborative pianist Mariko Furukawa.

It is a rare event when every single piece has not been heard “live” by a reviewer. I previously had known only the John Ireland Fantasy Sonata from a recording.

The concert opened with an early Penderecki work, the 3 Miniatures for clarinet and piano. If you are used to post-apocalyptic Penderecki, with foreboding and giant tragedy, these brief (but well-crafted) utterances will surprise you. They were perfectly captured by Mr. Neidich and Ms. Furukawa.

Mr. Neidich then turned his attention to a solo work by Shulamit Ran: Spirit, composed last year, in its New York premiere. His breath control is prodigious, so much so, that one forgets “body” and thinks only “spirit.”

Then came the Ireland, a gorgeous late-Romantic extended work in which songfulness (Ireland has five large volumes of art songs) predominates. Ms. Furukawa clarified the often thick textures beautifully, and Mr. Neidich provided what we now take for granted with him: perfection.

After intermission, Ms. Oshima played a work that was written for her, Le Maschere (another New York premiere) based on stock characters from the Italian commedia dell’arte, by Larry Alan Smith (who was present, explaining that he is Italian too, on his mother’s side). One heard the Zanni, Vecchi, Innamorati, and Capitani in brief vignettes full of character. Ms. Oshima’s breath control and her ability to taper even the highest notes to nothingness were awe-inspiring.

Then Mr. Neidich showed another facet of himself- that of composer, in presenting two of his own solo works in premieres: Firefly, and Icarus reborn (a world premiere), which depicts the over-confident rise and ultimate fall of the Greek legendary son.

The evening closed with Arthur Benjamin’s Le Tombeau de Ravel. This reminded me of the Parisian critic who, after the premiere of Ravel’s Le Tombeau de Couperin stated acidly: “Yes, the Tombeau de Couperin by Ravel is beautiful, but how much more beautiful would be a Tombeau de Ravel by Couperin!” The Benjamin work, composed a dozen years after Ravel’s death, is a gentle pastiche of many gestures typically seen in Ravel, notably waltz rhythms. It was a delicious close to a wonderful, thoughtful program.

Mr. Neidich offered two encores: Ravel’s Pièce en forme de habanera (which began life as a vocalise), and a wild, fast rondo that I did not know, that left him and the audience breathless, which he announced by saying that the concert indeed needed some “empty virtuosity.”

Distinguished Concerts Orchestra; Distinguished Concerts Singers International

Patrick Hawes, composer/conductor

Paul Mealor, composer/conductor

Diana McVey, soprano; Scott Joiner, tenor

Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

November 11, 2018

On the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month in 1918, the guns that had raged for four years fell silent. The Great War (what we later called World War One) was over. One hundred years later commemorations of those millions of lives lost take place in ceremonies throughout the world. At Carnegie Hall in New York City, Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presented a concert entitled The Great War: Commemorating 100 Years, featuring two United States premieres, Patrick Hawes’ The Great War Symphony and Paul Mealor’s Requiem: The Souls of the Righteous. It was a meaningful way to pay tribute to the memories of the fallen during this centennial anniversary.

The Distinguished Concerts Singers International had choruses hailing from Connecticut, Kansas, New Mexico, New York, Texas, Wisconsin, Australia, Canada, Germany, Hong Kong, United Kingdom, and “individual singers from around the globe.” Soloists Diana McVey (www.dianamcvey.com) and Scott Joiner (www.scottjoinertenor.com), both DCINY favorites, were present to lend their considerable talents.

Patrick Hawes (www.patrickhawes.com) took the podium to conduct the United States Premiere (Joint) of The Great War Symphony. Each movement covers one year of the war: I. Praeludium (1914-1915), II. March (1915-1916), III. Elegy (1916-1917), and IV. Finale (1917-1918). The conception is highly programmatic. The calm before the storm and steadfastness of duty of the first movement gives way to the horrors of battle in the second and to the disillusionment and despair of the third movement. The fourth and last movement expresses the final year of fighting, the silencing of the guns, and the heartache of paying tribute to those countless lives lost – with resolution never to forget the sacrifices. The Great War Symphony has a decidedly British (and Commonwealth) focus. One can hear the influences of the great British Composers (most notably Elgar, Holst, and Vaughan Williams) throughout. This is not at all surprising considering the origin of the commission in the United Kingdom and the fact that the losses were closer to home and more extensive in Britain than in the United States (where the history of World War One is often taught something like this: Archduke Franz Ferdinand is assassinated, Europe goes to war, things bog down into trench warfare where neither side makes any progress, then the United States gets involved after the Lusitania is sunk -after waiting two years! – and suddenly it’s all over).

The texts were chosen with care, and Mr. Hawes provided good program notes that I hope will be available at the DCINY website, as they have usually posted programs in past concerts. Check this link : DCINY The Great War: Commemorating 100 Years.

At the beginning of the third movement, concertmaster Jorge Ávila played a violin that belonged to Herbert Simmons, who was killed in action at the Somme in 1916. “Uncle Bertie,” as he was called by his family, was an amateur violinist who dreamed of becoming a professional musician. His brother Lawrence kept the violin to remember him, and each generation that followed learned to play on it. The family allowed the violin to be brought to New York to be used in this performance.

Tenor Scott Joiner has a strong voice that can fill any hall. While his lyric gifts were abundantly displayed, it was his bitingly ironic tone in “The Song of the Mud” from the third movement that this listener enjoyed the most. Soprano Diana McVey sang with a poignant beauty as she gave voice to the heartache of mothers. daughters, wives and fiancées, not to mention the women who witnesses events first-hand.

The Great War Symphony is a work by a composer of craft and skill. It does not descend into sentimental tripe nor does it explode into cheap “war” bombast. This listener was engaged for the hour-long duration and thought, given the programmatic aspect, that adding a visual component (such as a projection of pictures from the war) would heighten the experience for many listeners, especially those with no real knowledge of World War One.

The chorus was well-prepared, with good balance and clear diction throughout, and the orchestra played with intense focus and energy. The audience gave Mr. Hawes a standing ovation for his fine work.

After intermission, Paul Mealor (www.paulmealor.com) took the stage to conduct the United States premiere of his Requiem: The Souls of the Righteous. This forty-minute, ten-movement work uses sections of the traditional Requiem mass with scripture from the King James Bible, and poems from Grahame Davis.

My colleague Frank Daykin wrote in an earlier review of Mr. Mealor that “if there ‘is’ a heaven, I want it to sound like the music of Paul Mealor.” One tends to understand why when listening to his Requiem – Mr. Mealor’s God is unfailingly compassionate, His judgment of souls is heavily tilted towards mercy, and all souls are worthy of Heaven. This work is filled with serene beauty from start to finish – even Fauré’s Requiem sounds fearsome in comparison!

There were numerous soloists (uncredited) from the chorus, all who did well in their featured roles, but special mention goes to one tenor, a very tall young man, who really filled the hall with his strong voice. The chorus was lovely, but one has to acknowledge that while they did excellent work, the “heavy lifting” was already done by the composer. The string orchestra was perfection in balance and ensemble.

The use of tuned wine glasses in the final movement (Lux aeterna: And let there be a Heaven) provided an ethereal effect that was enchanting. When the very last vibrations of the wine glasses slowly died away, one could feel the entire audience holding their breath as one. Then a loud and extended standing ovation followed, richly deserved.

Eun Jung Vicky Lee, piano

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

November 6, 2018

Eun Jung Vicky Lee did a commendable job in her piano recital Tuesday at Carnegie’s Weill Hall – and though it was not billed as a debut anywhere on the program (or Carnegie Hall’s website), it offered a fine first hearing for this reviewer of a highly promising young pianist. A graduate of Eastman (B.M.) and New England Conservatory (M.M.), Ms. Lee has accumulated a good assortment of prizes and distinctions, especially from Canada and South Korea, and she currently teaches in Seoul while continuing to perform.

Ms. Lee offered a well-balanced program of repertoire from Bach through Rachmaninoff, with the only noticeably absent style period being our own current era – though this reviewer doesn’t believe that every “box” needs to be checked for all the style periods, as one should play what one loves and plays best! Ms. Lee showed a clear affinity for her chosen works and played with a high level of polish. The program included a Bach chorale prelude, Beethoven’s powerful Op. 110 Sonata, Debussy’s L’Isle Joyeuse, two Rachmaninoff Preludes, and the Liszt Réminiscences de Norma (Bellini) to close.

With grace and a lovely stage presence, she walked onstage to open with an arrangement of J.S Bach’s chorale Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring. While this Bach chorale melody makes for a beautiful opening, the arrangement itself left something to be desired – and oddly the arranger’s name was not listed. It seemed not to be the Myra Hess version one knows well, nor the Harold Bauer version, unless they were considerably altered. It had traits of both, as if a generic composite, but with some unsettling voice leading, some unusually thick basses, and a few distracting hand-crossings to emphasize a descending third treble motif (rather gratuitously, one felt). It speaks to the resilience of Bach’s music – and to Ms. Lee’s serene delivery – that this listener still felt overall a sense of Bach’s hallowed feeling regardless of arrangement issues.

Following Bach came Beethoven’s Sonata No. 31 in A-flat major, Op. 110, a monumental work from Beethoven’s late period. Ms. Lee was thoroughly prepared for its substantial technical challenges and showed overall a fine fidelity to details of the score and thoroughness in its complex fugal sections. She played with polish, professionalism and commitment, and in terms of accuracy, there were only the minutest of slips and a tiny bit of rushing here and there. With time to live with the work, Ms. Lee will undoubtedly project a conception of deeper and deeper insight. Meanwhile, this listener’s reservations could be categorized as stylistic and musical differences of opinion. For example, there seemed a tendency to breeze through structural junctures and to underplay moments of harmonic intensity, just where one wanted some grit and resistance, while arpeggiations and such were featured with a high gloss. The result was a slightly prettified quality which would probably only disturb a musician raised on Artur Schnabel et al. – or one steeped in the work for decades.

One felt the opposite in Debussy’s L’Isle Joyeuse, which with sparing pedal at some exposed transitions, had less of the dreamlike sparkling wash than one has usually heard. Even the trills at the very opening bore more resemblance to ornamentation from the prior century than to evocations of a mythical isle. Though just shy of the exotic abandon of this listener’s favorite performances, the performance gained in spirit and sweep as it progressed. The piece itself gains in spirit, but Ms. Lee’s level of comfort seemed also to increase. She finished it with winning conviction, joy, and brilliance, sending the large audience happily off to intermission.

The second half of the program opened with two selections from Rachmaninoff’s Preludes Op. 32. We heard No. 10 in B minor and No. 12 in G-sharp minor, both beautifully played and highlights of the evening. Ms. Lee gave the B minor Prelude the perfect feeling of solemnity, and one relished each moment of the glorious build. Moving on to the G-sharp minor Prelude, she played with crystalline clarity in the right-hand patterns, and a penetrating tone in the left-hand melody. Here one heard the command and artistic liberty which can take an audience on a truly memorable journey. These pieces fit the pianist like a glove.

Ms. Lee closed her program with Liszt’s Réminiscences de Norma (Bellini) by Franz Liszt, a virtuoso tour de force. She negotiated this pianistic climb extremely well – with no injuries! – but it may take just a bit more playing to transform it into the Romantic reveling that it can be. One imagines that the lush opera melodies will take ever increasing priority over the accompaniments’ extravagant arpeggiations and leaping octaves, and excess caution will become unnecessary. In the B major section, where the melody is set as repeated chords, the overall melodic grandeur will reign supreme, and the repetitions will become more and more like a passionate vibrato. In the E-flat minor con furia section, one will lose all politesse and relish the unbridled frenzy, leading an ending of great improvisatory sweep. Ms. Lee came so close to conveying these qualities that one can only hope that she will continue to play the piece for years to come. It will surely become a signature triumph. Meanwhile, it was certainly a high voltage ending to what was an excellent introduction to this New York audience.