Qianwen Shen, Violin; Bihan Li, Violin; Alexandrina Boyanova, Viola; Valeriya Sholokhova, Cello; Juan Esteban Martinez, Clarinet; Guilherme Andreas, Flute; Fangtao Jiang, Soprano; Jiahao Han, Piano

Weill Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

October 7, 2024

Meng Wang Music presented a concert benefiting the Hole in the Wall Gang Camp at Weill Hall on Monday evening. Featuring the works (all world premieres) of seven young composers (aged thirteen to seventeen) who are part of the Meng Wang music program, it was a showcase of emerging talents for a worthy cause.

Meng Wang Music is a New York-based institute founded by composer Meng Wang. The institute offers young composers (Grades 3-12) instruction, intensive training, performance opportunities, and publishing and distribution. The Hole in the Wall Gang Camp was founded by legendary actor and philanthropist Paul Newman in 1988. It is a nonprofit 501(c)(3) organization, residential summer camp, and year-round center serving children and their families coping with chronic illnesses such as cancer, sickle cell disease and many others.

One could not help but be impressed by the keepsake program, with portraits of the seven young composers on the cover and the extensive biographical information, not only of the composers, but all of the musicians as well. There were also thoughtful program notes for each work, which I am assuming were written by the composers for their respective works.

Let me stipulate before going on that these youngsters are all remarkably gifted, and their promise for the future is something that can and should be looked forward to with great anticipation. They are finding their voices, and it is not a shock that one can hear the influences of the “greats” (i.e., Haydn, Beethoven, and Shostakovich), and the at times almost formulaic development arcs. This is not meant to be a criticism, as the skill exhibited in getting even to that level is something many much older composers have struggled with – and with arguably less success. It was also notable that the line-up of musicians was made up of highly experienced players with impressive credentials, who deserve praise for their committed performances. Composers of any age would have been delighted to have these musicians play their works. I will list the names of the performers: Qianwen Shen, violin; Bihan Li, violin; Alexandrina Boyanova, viola; Valeriya Sholokhova, cello; Juan Esteban Martinez, clarinet; Guilherme Andreas, flute; Fangtao Jiang, soprano; and Jiahao Han, piano.

Now that the background information has been covered, it is time to talk about the compositions. The Art of Dunhuang by Chungyiu Mark Ma (b. 2008) opened the concert. It is a three-movement piece (1: Sanctum, 2: Echoes in Motion, 3: Eternal Wisdom) for solo clarinet and bass clarinet (the second and third movements are for the bass clarinet). It was probably the most “modern” work on the program. With the idiomatic exploration of the instrument’s possibilities (especially the bass clarinet), and the use of extended techniques, it reminded this listener of Edison Denisov’s works for clarinet.

Chronicle of Emergence, for solo piano, by Ella Bao (b. 2010) was up next. This two-movement work (1: Yin yang, 2: Awakening Gallop) features highly interesting harmonic language that danced on the edge of tonality without ever crossing into atonality. The second movement, Awakening Gallop, at times flirted with sarcasm, but never went completely in that direction.

Tiffany Qianzun Zhao (b. 2008) had two works on the program, Late June, for flute and piano, and Swaying Hope, for piano quintet, clarinet, flute, and soprano, which closed the program. Her style is unabashedly tonal, and she writes with an expansive sense of beauty and color. It is refreshing to hear a young person wholeheartedly embrace what some would call “reactionary” writing, and I hope she stays on this path. There is enough strife in our world as Ms. Zhao writes – she wants to be a voice for a peaceful and beautiful world. Late June has a sweet, pastoral quality. Swaying Hope takes inspiration from Bob Dylan. It was a highly poignant work, with not only lush sounds, but also tinged with nostalgic lament.

After intermission, Wanderer, for clarinet, violin, cello, and piano, by Athena Zhang (b. 2007) opened the second half. It is an aptly named piece, with a quasi-improvisational feel, with the interplay and “passing” of melodic ideas around between the instruments. The piano writing was highly reminiscent of Bill Evans (who I greatly admire).

The next three works were all for string quartet. The first was Where the Shadow Falls, by William T. Wang (b.2011) . Mr. Wang’s composition is a throwback to an earlier time; it was if one stepped back into the 19^th century. I am reluctant to use the word prodigy, as that term has been overused to the point of stripping it of its true meaning, but one could make a case for Mr. Wang. Such fluid and assured writing , stylistically and harmonically, for a thirteen-year-old is truly astounding. My only reservation is that it seems very much “in the style of “ writing. I’m sure he will find his own voice, and the sky’s the limit.

Jixiu Josh Shi (b. 2007) offered Nature’s Suite in three movements ( 1: Water, 2: Trees, 3: Birds). Water was lyrical and flowing. Trees was a little diffuse in style, sometimes hinting at the 20th century and then back to the 19^th. Birds was clever, and one could easily hear the bird calls in it.

Reverie of Meadows, by Frederick Yip (b. 2007) was the final string quartet of the evening. Mr. Yip has developed a more distinct voice than most young composers – at least any influences were not overt. His writing is teeming with ideas, and he has a good grip on the interplay of the string quartet. He might have too many ideas, and some “tightening” would enhance his work.

At the end, all the composers (with the exception of Frederick Yip, who was not in attendance) joined all the performers and Meng Wang for a final bow. I look forward to following the progress of these young composers. Congratulations to all.

Chenyi Avsharian, violin; Rohan De Silva, piano; Simon Hagopian-Rogers, violin

Zankel Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

October 5, 2024

This weekend at Zankel Hall violinist Chenyi Avsharian performed a program entitled “Boundless Horizons,” presenting some of the most well-loved showpieces ever composed or arranged for violin, with pianist Rohan De Silva collaborating and young violinist Simon Hagopian-Rogersjoining for three duets. There was, as the first half, Stephen Foster’s Old Folks at Home (arr. Jascha Heifetz), Sarasate’s Zapateado, Op. 23, No. 2, Mendelssohn’s Auf Flügeln des Gesanges, Op. 34, No. 2 (“On Wings of Song” arr. Jascha Heifetz), and Heinrich Wilhelm Ernst’s Fantasie Brillante sur la Marche et La Romance d’Otello de Rossini. After intermission, we heard three selections (I, III, and V) from Five Pieces for Two Violins by Shostakovich (arr. Levon Atovmyan), the Brahms Scherzo in C Minor (Sonatensatz), selections from Gershwin’s Porgy And Bess (tr. Jascha Heifetz), Piazzolla’s Le Grand Tango, “Mo Li Hua” (traditional Chinese folksong, tr. by Chenyi Avsharian), and Franz Waxman’s Carmen Fantasie to close.

Looking at the selections in advance was like seeing a delightful menu of mostly desserts for the listener – though some mountainous challenges for the violinist. It could almost have been presented as a Jascha Heifetz tribute, given most of the works’ histories with a few exceptions, but in any case, it all demanded Heifetzian virtuosity. Ms. Avsharian, whose credits include winning the Gold Medal in the China International Violin Competition in 2008, was as fit for it as anyone could be. Beneath her modest demeanor onstage, she is a force – a powerhouse performer.

All of the works required masterful technique, but the Ernst and Waxman opera fantasies are replete with so many over-the-top demands that generally just one such piece might crown a program – so Ms. Avsharian is to be congratulated for conquering two of these with such aplomb. More musically memorable moments included the nostalgic phrases of the Foster opening (sometimes called “Swanee River”), the feather-light Zapateado, which had just the right danceable feel all through its pyrotechnics, the intensely bracing Brahms Sonatensatz, and two of the three Shostakovich duets, Prelude and Elegy, introducing talented young violinist Simon Hagopian-Rogers. All of these were well-chosen for audience accessibility, including the three Shostakovich movements, about which Itzhak Perlman once quipped before a performance, “This is Shostakovich without the bitterness or the cynicism, just sweet Shostakovich … maybe he was four years old.” Ha! Of course, there is great depth to be found in them, and Ms. Avsharian and her duo partner relayed it beautifully.

Also of note was the traditional Chinese folk song “Mo Li Hua” (“Jasmine Flower” – estimated to be from the early 1700s, though some say centuries earlier). It has been adapted by many since its discovery, including by Puccini and Tan Dun, and it was played here in a transcription by Ms. Avsharian herself, as a piece she describes as very dear to her personally. It was played with melting beauty. It is so famous among Chinese audiences that some in the hall took the liberty of singing along with it, though with such a heartfelt rendering, one half-wished to hear the violin unaccompanied!

Beyond Ms. Avsharian’s performing gifts, she is a leader at Shar Music and NeuralTones, the latter being a non-profit that, according to the promotional materials, “is committed to exploring the connection between music and brain function and enhancing music education for underserved children.” We had been informed that the event would be “combining live performance with artist commentary and multimedia projections to illustrate how our brains process and respond to music” – so one expected an alternation between music and commentary, with some multimedia additions where appropriate. Admittedly, that would have been a tall order extending the length of the program, but the decision for them to be simultaneous created a different challenge.

Instead of intermittent spoken commentary, there were images projected on a large screen behind the performers all through their performances, some including text about the music and composers, and some showing fleeting brain images (AI-enhanced?) with colors pulsating according to neural responses to music as demonstrated in various electroencephalograms (EEGs). Understandably, these were meant to help grasp the mission of NeuralTones, but this listener found such “meta-musical” additions to be doing a disservice to the live music, which warrants our complete attention. It has been well-documented that music stimulates the brain, but music deserves to be valued and savored on its own. Does it enhance the experience of haute cuisine to watch slides of the food pyramid or lingual papillae – while dining?

In addition, some neural images labeled “happy” and “sad” and cartoons with thought balloons intruded, striking one as uncomfortably limiting compared to what a free listener can notice and feel. It seemed even to contradict the advertising of the Boundless Horizons program, which professes to be “Embodying freedom and limitlessness.” Though projected images pertaining to the libretti behind the transcriptions seemed generally more justified – i.e., Carmen and Otello – program notes would have sufficed less distractingly. While printed program notes can often be superficial as well (and having one’s head in program notes can detract from a concert experience too) at least printed notes can be ignored, while projected images necessarily become part of the experience. This listener, for one, having been assigned to review the concert as a whole, could not ignore them.

There were moments when even the performers seemed to be distracted. The generally superb Ms. Avsharian suffered some moments of iffy intonation in the Brahms, and the languor of Gershwin’s “Summertime” felt lost. Even the generally expert playing of Mr. De Silva seemed a bit rushed in the Piazzolla (was he trying to keep up with visual projections?), and all was less than focused at the start of the Carmen Fantasy.

Alas, we have now become a multitasking world. Though of course good teachers offer stories and artworks to bring life and context to music for the uninitiated and the young, those are ideally part of readiness prior to unfettered listening. Ultimately, great music is enough, in and of itself. On a side note, if we are showcasing neuroscience, it should also be considered that there is mounting evidence supporting a causal relationship between multitasking and anxiety, depression, and a host of other woes – and it would be sad to see concerts adding to that. Undoubtedly, that was not intended, but hopefully, with sensitivity, NeuralTones’ dual missions of research and education will bear fruit in the world without diminishing returns in the concert hall.

The impulse to bridge gaps, regardless of method, was nonetheless appreciated  – and the audience applauded with great fervor at the concert’s end.

Modus Operandi Orchestra and Tutti Music Collective Choir

Justin Bischof, Conductor

Ciarán Nagle, Irish Tenor; Ken Field, Alto Saxophone; Rachel J. Burckardt, piano & electric guitar; Diana Fischer, piano;

Darby Clinard, mezzo-soprano; Kayleigh Bennett, mezzo-soprano; Phil Neighbors, drums; Blake Newman, double bass

Recital Hall at SUNY Purchase Performing Arts Center

September 28, 2024

Ever since Brahms composed A German Requiem in the German language to a Lutheran text, composers have been adapting the traditional Roman Catholic Requiem Mass to more modern conceptions of musical styles and textual freedom. Increasingly in the 20^th century, composers began to deviate from the traditional order of the liturgy, picking and choosing which sections to set to music, and sometimes blending secular with sacred texts. Benjamin Britten’s 1961 War Requiem intersperses movements from the traditional Latin text with poems of Wilfred Owen, who was killed in World War I. Stravinsky’s 1966 Requiem Canticles is a twelve-tone setting of a fifteen-minute version of the Mass for the Dead. John Tavener’s 2006 Requiem mixes traditional Roman Catholic texts with the Upanishads and the Koran. Karl Jenkins’s 2005 Requiem mixes the Japanese language together with Latin.

One recent manifestation of this break from the strictures of the past is the increasing use of crossover elements from pop genres and light classical music in newer requiems, particularly the Requiems of John Rutter and Andrew Lloyd Webber, composed in the mid-1980s and widely performed. Some have termed this new genre “Sacro-Pop” although its real progenitor is arguably Leonard Bernstein’s 1971 Mass. Rock beats are common to newer arrangements of traditional hymns in Catholic missalettes and other hymnals.

Actually, contemporary “sacro-pop” composers may enjoy the largest audiences of any contemporary composers. Marty Haugen, a Lutheran who has worked as a musician in the Catholic church, may be the most performed composer in America. His Mass of Creation is played, sung, and heard by millions worshipping every Sunday (I myself have performed it countless times as an organist.) Such widely performed secular choral composers as Morton Lauridsen and Eric Whitacre subsume lighter classical styles into their sacred works, while many other composers (even priest-composers like Michael Joncas), writing like Karl Jenkins, have brought jazz, rock beats, and minimalism into church service music, at times blending it with traditional gospel.

Rachel J. Burckardt fits in this mold. She is a Boston-based civil engineer who has been a committed liturgical musician (singer and instrumentalist) at St. Cecilia’s Parish in Cambridge, Massachusetts for some forty-five years. She is also a prolific composer of mass parts and sacred songs for the Roman Catholic Mass, and a transgender Catholic (preferring the pronoun she) who transitioned in mid-life after years of marriage and parenthood. This all-Burckardt concert featured the New York debut of her forty-five-minute Mount Auburn Requiem (for orchestra, chorus, and Irish tenor), and also included four short quasi-sacral chamber works. The New York-based Modus Operandi Orchestra was conducted (as was the chorus, the Tutti Music Collective Choir) with a sure hand by its artistic director Justin Bischof, a highly gifted organ improviser and experienced conductor of both church and secular music.

It was evident from this concert that both Ms. Burckardt’s sacred music and her secular concert music are a seamless blend embodying eclectic styles, genres, and crossover. The first work on the program, For Elaine and Steve, written for her son’s wedding, was arranged for the Revolutionary Snake Ensemble, a combo of alto sax (Ken Field), drums (Phil Neighbors), and bass (Blake Newman), joined here by piano (the composer). With repeating loops and grooves on the piano, the saxophone took the lead in a New Age, easy listening jazz idiom that would have been at home in a club setting. The saxophone was amplified through loudspeakers on stage (more about that later). Next came a short setting of the Ave Maria for mixed chorus: pleasant, consonant, well-crafted choral writing, well sung (if with a ragged ensemble moment or two) by the aforementioned Tutti Music Collective Choir, a Boston-based group that strives to perform LGBTQ and BIPOC composers.

Heal Me With Your Care, with textadapted from Psalms 34 and 121,was set for two mezzo-sopranos (Darby Clinard and Kayleigh Bennett) and orchestra, and reminded me a little of the soprano-mezzo-soprano duet in the Agnus Dei of Verdi’s Requiem. Both mezzos were uni-miked through the loudspeakers, and though they sang not just in unison but in part writing, it was hard to tell their voices apart. Though the intent was to spotlight their singing, the instrumental texture, or the sound design, or both, muddied both the diction and the overall orchestral/voice blend. The Revolutionary Snake Ensemble returned for Ascendance, which reverted to the soft rock/modal jazz idiom, with supporting repeating grooves and an apparently improvised section for the saxophone and drums.

Before the performance of her Mount Auburn Requiem in D minor, Ms. Burckardt explained in remarks to the audience that she wrote it to memorialize her deceased high school classmates from the Class of 1972 at Albertus Magnus, a parochial high school in Rockland County, New York. Like a true Baby Boomer, she cited the 1974 Rolling Stones song “Time Waits for No One” as a co-inspiration for this memorialization and implied that the song was quoted in her Requiem (though I didn’t pick it up listening). The text for the Mount Auburn Requiem (Mount Auburn is the name of a cemetery in Cambridge, Massachusetts) followed an eight-section liturgy of her own design: Introit; Kyrie; Lacrimosa; Carmine sine Verbis; Sanctus; Agnus Dei; In Paradisum; and Vale in Sempiternum. Several of the eight were subdivided into episodes that followed both liturgical tradition and a few select textual innovations of her own. The sung text combined English with Latin.

With the Introit and Kyrie our ears were immediately transported into the familiar, agreeable harmonic territory of Ernest Bloch, solemnized sacro-pop, and film scores of Biblical epics. An alto saxophone solo was amplified through the loudspeakers over the orchestra at the same moment the concertmaster was giving her all to a moving violin solo which as a result was lamentably drowned out. Some of the chords and part writing of the choir and the orchestra worked well together, others seemed not to mesh or were awkwardly dissonant in the overall consonant idiom. The Kyrie was an attractive homage to the block chords of Carmina Burana, devolving into the accompanimental filler of repeated loops and grooves and occasional hints of rock beats.

The Lacrimosa was one of the most successful musical movements. It “landed.” The passing tones didn’t sound oddly random but rather functionally dissonant. There was a good use of the tubular bells and timpani as atmospheric color. Here Ms. Burckardt wrote a solo for cello, and this time it was supported by a light texture and came through well.

The four-part Songs without Words (Carmine sine Verbis) was an innovation. An affecting viola solo was taken over by the cellos, then by the tutti (i.e., not just the Tutti Music Collective Choir). Though the opening material overstayed its welcome, the introduction in the fourth song of the Mount Auburn Aire, Ms. Burckardt’s original Irish-style tune, was haunting, and well set for flute solo and violin drone, with the flute part knowingly written with the characteristic ornamentation of the sean-nós (“in the old way”) of Irish traditional singing. (The composer told the audience during her remarks that her mother was Irish Catholic.)

The Sanctus was also attractive, but by the time we got to the Agnus Dei, too many melodic, rhythmic, and harmonic gestures were being recycled from previous movements. The Agnus Dei commenced solemnly in the minor key, not always the conventional musical choice for a Lamb of God, but switched to major for parts of it. The most affecting parts of In Paradisum for me were, again, the appearance of Irish airs: the well-known traditional ballad Slane, and a reprise of Burckardt’s own Mount Auburn Aire, once again lightly scored and with the sean-nós ornamentation. I thought the Irish tunes were the most moving and striking moments of the Requiem and wished there had been more elaboration of them. I waited vainly for the Irish tenor soloist, Ciarán Nagle, to break in with a vocal line ornamented like sean-nós–a missed opportunity for the composer’s creative invention.

But by the time the Requiem reached its conclusion with Vale in Sempiternum, Ms. Burckardt again fell back into recycling the same D minor chords, riffs, and grooves already iterated through the previous several movements. The effect became too static. The too many chimes entries, meant to toll like funeral bells, lost freshness as a gesture, as did the timpani strokes. And more creative variety of keys, modes, and some modulations would have helped give the three-quarters of an hour of music more purchase on the ear.

Throughout the concert, an unfortunate impediment to appreciation of Ms. Burckardt’s music was a fuzz or buzz on the sound (at least from where I was sitting near the front), which I interpreted as an unintended artifact of the multi-microphone set-up on stage (apparently for recording the live performance) and the decision to amplify the saxophone and the vocal soloists through onstage loudspeakers, always a risky bet for clarity. Microphoning the soloists in this case seemed to ensnare adjacent orchestral instruments and redundantly play them back over their natural acoustic projection, a feedback loop which clotted up the texture and was confusing to the ear. It was hard to tell if Mr. Nagle’s singing didn’t land because of the ambient recording set-up, because the composer hadn’t written his vocal part robustly enough, because he didn’t sing out, or because he was under-miked.

It was clear, though, that while Ms. Burckardt wrote effectively for solo instruments accompanied by light textures, she handled full textures of the orchestra less felicitously. The orchestra played well, but transparent orchestration was lacking. The Tutti Music Collective Choir did not always sound as present and forward in the overall acoustic as they should have, although at times their singing was quite lovely. The most vigorously impressive performer of the evening was alto saxophonist Ken Field, and I also admired the gutsy playing of the violin leader Keiko Tokunaga.

Nevertheless this concert was an impressively large and courageous effort to put forward the creative profile of a composer.

Carlos Gardels, piano

Recording: Matthew Snyder at Allegro Recording (6)

Paul Tavenner at Big City Recording Studios (1, 3-5, 7-10, 12);

Hideaway Recording Studios (2, 11)

Mastering: Paul Tavenner

MSR Classics: MS1847

2024

Though many speculate that classical music CDs are going the way of the dinosaur, new evidence to the contrary has been added to this reviewer’s assignments, the debut CD of young pianist Carlos Gardels on MSR Classics (MS1847). It is an actual physical CD, and cheers to that, as this musician is still a fan of holding one in hand as part of the listening ritual. It comes with a booklet, for which the artist (a published writer himself) has contributed some illuminating notes. There is much to praise in this release, which includes six Nocturnes of Chopin and selections by Debussy, but first, a bit about Mr. Gardels is in order.

When one hears the name Carlos Gardels, one probably thinks of the French-Argentine tango composer Carlos Gardels (1890 -1935) – but let there be no confusion, as this young American artist seems destined to add new resonance to the name. A Los Angeles native, the pianist Carlos Gardels made his concerto debut at age 15 as a soloist in the Rachmaninoff Third Concerto with the Pasadena Youth Orchestra. His formal education was at the Manhattan School of Music and Indiana University Bloomington, with principal teachers HakSoon Swiatkowski, Jeffrey Cohen, Émile Naoumoff, and Neil Stannard, as well as mentors David Dubal, Cyprien Katsaris, and Ruth Slenczynska. He made his debut appearance in Carnegie’s Weill Recital Hall in 2016 and has performed widely in the US, Europe, and Asia. His distinctions include prizes from the National Society of Arts and Letters, the Los Angeles International Liszt Competition, and the Young Musician’s Foundation, and he has also taught internationally, from Shanghai to Citrus College in California, where he currently resides. For composition, he has studied with Ian Krouse at the University of California, Los Angeles, and his compositions include Three Fantasies for solo piano, published in 2022 by Theodore Presser to favorable reception by students, artists, and the press.  

One might ask why even mention Mr. Gardel’s composing when his debut CD includes only Chopin and Debussy rather than any of his own compositions, but his playing has a probing quality that goes a bit deeper than the typical output of young pianists today, making that aspect feel relevant. His CD is neither of the “wholesale” single-composer sort nor of the motley debut sampler kind that could be called “pieces I play well” – rather, there has been genuine thought involved in a Chopin-Debussy connection, through both the selections and the performances, ranging from very early works to very late ones of both composers.  Mr. Gardels supports this musical connection in his program notes, citing Debussy’s documented love for Chopin, his editing of Chopin for the Durand publishing house, and his comment on “Chopin’s art of breathing with the pedal.” It is the playing itself, though, that persuades a listener – and thankfully these performances have no whiff of the didactic about them, simply a projection of kinship and musical evolution.

The first work on the CD, Chopin’s Nocturne Op. 9, No. 1 in B-flat minor, blooms thanks to Mr. Gardel’s fearless use of pauses and agogics for expressive emphasis – along with the occasional slight roll (or just a bit of left-hand preceding right hand) as he savors specially chosen moments. There is more than a touch of “old school” expressivity here, and one wants to cheer for a player who is not straitjacketed by metronomes and such, as with many players today. Though some could argue that Mr. Gardels is a bit overly generous with lingering and rubati at times (as they can lose potency with recurrence), there seems to be justification in most cases – as if a tour guide were saying “Wait, listen to this.” The recorded sound throughout (from multiple sessions, 2021-2024) is warm and live, but not overbearing.

The tracks that follow offer similarly warm and inviting playing, with singing phrases and skillful dynamic gradations. The Chopin Nocturne Op. 15, No. 2, in F-sharp major is particularly winsome in its feeling of inevitability. Here, Mr. Gardels seems to let the piece unfold on its own, minimizing any sense of interpretive will being imposed upon it.

Both Nocturnes from Op. 27 (C-sharp minor and D-flat major) follow. In the C-sharp minor, Mr. Gardels again lets the drama unfold naturally. When all turns to major mode towards the end, the colors are captured with such melting beauty that a listener has the sense of experiencing it for the first time – a major accomplishment in such a standard work of the piano literature. Mr. Gardels clearly has deep feelings for these works, and they are transmitted directly to the listener. The D-flat Nocturne is played compellingly as well.

The Nocturnes from Op. 62 (B major and E major) follow, representing the late days in Chopin’s oeuvre. The breathtaking B Major Nocturne is handled with intense care, particularly evident in the infamous trilled melody.  In the E Major Nocturne, the liberty may strike a listener at first as a bit too much, almost approaching schmaltz, yet there is sufficient restraint in contrasting sections to help recapture the perfect sense of proportion in retrospect. The whole must be taken into account, and Mr. Gardel’s interpretations do emerge as well-conceived wholes.

The placement of Debussy next in this CD offers a welcome balance, with the Suite Bergamasque feeling like a natural extension of what precedes, but with new colors. The first movement, Prélude, is played in such a way as to illustrate the kinship with Chopin that the liner notes put forward – but with the clear beginnings of Debussy’s own distinct language. The famous Clair de Lune here is captivating as well, again encouraging the listener to listen to a standard work as if for the first time. Mr. Gardels takes time to savor the aftersound of his phrases, leading us to do the same. It has already been mentioned that the pauses preceding some special moments are illuminating, but this pianist also allows sufficient time after such moments to let the listener absorb their magnitude. Passepied closes the suite with just the right delicacy, crispness, and suavity, and to round off the program the CD offers a Prélude and Étude. The Prélude La fille aux cheveux de lin thrives with this pianist’s special tenderness, and the Étude Pour les arpèges composés, arguably one of the more Chopinesque of the Études, is played with artful delineation of harmonic surprises and turning points.

To those with a notion that the genius Debussy sprung forth out of some sort of spontaneous generation, this CD may inspire some rethinking. In addition, at just under 59 minutes, it offers the listener a very accessibly curated selection of two great composers, Chopin and Debussy, played with remarkable sensitivity. The CD can be found here: MSR Classics: MS 1847 and here: Carlos Gardels: Debut Album.

Long Island Concert Orchestra (LICO)

Enrico Fagone, conductor

Alessandro Mazzamuto, piano

DiMenna Center for Classical Music, New York, NY

August 27, 2024

The Long Island Concert Orchestra (LICO), led by conductor Enrico Fagone, presented an All-Rachmaninoff program at the Dimenna Center for Classical Music this past Tuesday evening, with featured works being the Piano Concertos No. 2 and 3, and the 1887 Scherzo in D minor thrown in as an orchestral opener. Alessandro Mazzamuto was the piano soloist for both concerti.

Last year was the 150^th anniversary of Rachmaninoff’s birth, and there was a plethora of concerts dedicated to his music. Possibly the most notable (or notorious depending on your viewpoint) was Yuja Wang playing the four concerti and the Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini with the Philadelphia Orchestra (Rachmaninoff’s favorite) in a single evening. This feat may be what has inspired numerous others to offer multiple Rachmaninoff concerti in a single evening (as Rachmaninoff himself did in 1939 in the famous “Rachmaninoff Cycle” concerts with Eugene Ormandy and the Philadelphia Orchestra), but this listener is of the opinion that does not always serve these works to maximum advantage.

LICO Composer-in-residence David Winkler offered his customary greeting to the audience at the beginning of the evening. Though he usually talks a bit about the works, a form of spoken program notes (with none printed), on this occasion he chose not to do so. I assume that he felt that the works are so well known that there is no real need to say anything. While one might say that regarding the concerti (though I would disagree), the Scherzo in D minor is virtually unknown, so it would have prepared listeners to have some background. First of all, it is Rachmaninoff’s earliest surviving composition for orchestra, composed when he was only fourteen (dedicated to his cousin Alexander Siloti and intended to be part of a larger work because it is headed “Third movement”), and it was first performed and published only after Rachmaninoff’s death. The model for the work is clearly the Scherzo from Felix Mendelssohn’s incidental music for Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and it is so overtly “Mendelssohn” that one would never guess “Rachmaninoff” if asked to name the composer. Though this short work (about five minutes) may be valued more historically than musically, Maestro Fagone and LICO played it with gusto.

Alessandro Mazzamutto took the stage for the Piano Concerto No. 2 in C minor, Op. 18. The first thing that I noticed was music was being used with an iPad. While this seems to be a trend in recent times, one could not help thinking that this seemed a sign of incomplete preparation with such standard repertoire. Commitment to memory in such mainstream works is part of the internalizing process, which audiences can feel. Was the music there because of the difficulty of having to commit to memory two concerti to play in a single evening? Was it there from habit in preparation for recording sessions, which we learn are imminent? Only Mr. Mazzamutto would know the answer. He also continually picked up his handkerchief/cloth and would wipe the keyboard and dab at the keys, often doing so until moments before he was to play. I’m not sure if this was a nervous habit, but it was excessive to the point of distraction.

This listener has some strong opinions about this work, but nonetheless has enjoyed many performances that differed significantly. Performers need to exercise license in interpretation, which is what makes music interesting; there were, however, problems in this performance that cannot be attributed to license. There was excessive rubato (especially the E-flat theme in the 1^st movement), clipping of phrases (especially at the top), labored passagework (entrance at the beginning of the 3^rd movement), missed opportunity to build drama (the ending of the cadenza in the 3^rd movement bordered on helter-skelter), and not enough projection in general.

When Mr. Mazzamutto did not take excessive liberties with the tempi, he demonstrated real artistry in some of the lovely themes that abound in this concerto. The 2^nd movement was especially well done. He brings an indisputable passion to the keyboard, but that same passion might be getting in the way of what he is trying to project. Whatever concerns this listener had, the audience gave Mr. Mazzamutto an immediate and animated standing ovation.

After intermission, Mr. Mazzamutto returned to play the Piano Concerto No.3 in D minor, Op. 30 (again with the score being used). What was immediately apparent was that his playing and conception were much more assured than they were in the 2^nd. Was this because he has had a longer relationship with the 3^rd, or was it because he dedicated more time to it in preparation? I suspect it was a combination of the two.

The projection issues, however, continued. Perhaps the Fazioli piano was a source of this problem, as it seemed that Mr. Mazzamutto was fighting the instrument. His choice of the ossia cadenza in the first movement suffered from this projection issue, and that struggle both lessened the grandeur and rendered it a bit blurry.  He did project a much better sense of drama, though, and a better building of the same than in the 2^nd. The lead-in to the third movement attacca was good, and he maintained that momentum throughout the third movement, building the excitement with confidence and skill. He thundered through the octaves that end this piece, finishing in triumph. The audience immediately leapt to their feet and gave him an even more enthusiastic ovation than they did for the 2^nd.

Some words about the conductor and orchestra are in order here. Maestro Fagone is an excellent communicator and collaborator with whom any soloist would be happy to perform. He expertly adjusted to the occasional unpredictability of the soloist and kept the orchestra in control. To be sure, there were some minor ensemble issues with the soloist, but these were correctly so quickly as to be almost unnoticeable. The playing of LICO was outstanding all evening. So many times a soloist is hitched to a less-than-stellar orchestra, and it mars everything, but LICO brought their “A-game” to these works. It was striking and made quite an impression on this listener.

As a general observation, I would be interested in hearing Mr. Mazzamutto play some less dense works that would fully take advantage of his passion and artistry.

After all this, as an encore, the 18^th variation from the Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini was played for the appreciative audience. A visibly moved Mr. Mazzamutto embraced the concertmaster, calling out to the audience “He is my brother!.” Maestro Fagone and Mr. Mazzamutto will be recording these concerti on September 3^rd – I wish them good luck and all success.

Azalea Kelley, piano

Church of the Transfiguration, New York, NY

August 14, 2024

Young Azalea Kelley is already a veteran recital artist and winner of many competitions in the United States and Canada, and has played at Weill, Merkin, Klavierhaus, Steinway Hall, and other distinguished venues in and out of New York City. She comes from a family of accomplished professional musicians and was formerly a student of violin and ballet as well. This recital was presented at the Church of the Transfiguration, familiarly known to New York history buffs as the Little Church Around the Corner, on the date of her 22^nd birthday. For an artist of her tender age, she is already a most impressive and mature player.

Ms. Kelley cuts a poised, graceful, and commanding figure at the keyboard. She plays the piano naturally, as if she were an aquatic life form diving into the water. Despite the strenuous and taxing program she chose, there never once appeared any sign of strain. She plays the instrument with fluid, effortless mechanics, yet has ample force and power, great clarity of fingerwork and attack, a steady, even sense of pulse, and a natural musicality of expression. There were no extraneous physical gestures, no reaching into the galleries for pure virtuoso “wow” effect, no facial contortions like too many of today’s headliners and strivers– just the music.

She opened her program with Beethoven’s 6^th Sonata in F Major, the second of his three Opus 10 sonatas for piano. In this performance she favored the Germanic Beethoven approach of a Rudolf Serkin or Wilhelm Backhaus: an emphasis on the declarative rhetoric and forward motion of the music rather than contemplative underlining or contrasting tinges of light-heartedness. She took most of the repeats. There were many sharply etched moments: a bracing subito sforzando at the sudden faux modulation in bar 16-18 of the first movement; a nicely “lived in” feeling to the fermata at bar 16 in the second movement with an extended damper pedal; and the entirety of the challenging last two pages of the third movement. There, in Beethoven’s jumble of speeding contrary motion passages and virtuoso double octave tremolos, she fearlessly executed the fingerwork with a razor clarity and balanced symmetry of the two hands that would have done credit to a young Pollini.

Next came Chopin’s F-sharp minor Polonaise, Opus 44, a grandiose work that has always existed as a kind of somber heroic twin to the familiar, sunnier A-flat, Opus 53. Ms. Kelley went all in on the thunderingly martial and darkly dramatic elements of this work, pounding out the rhythm without ever banging, cleanly articulating the two-octave right hand octave run in bar 54 as if she possessed the wrists of Horowitz in his performance of this piece. She gave a juicy grand pause to the E major caesura at bar 79 at the lead-in to the A minor “roll of drums” middle section, and then segued to the doppio movimento Mazurka section keeping the forward momentum, without the tension relenting. Not much sunlight in this interpretation, but it was rousing and exciting.

Ms. Kelley piled Pelion on Ossa by following the virtuosic Op. 44 with the equally demanding Opus 61 Polonaise-Fantasie, the last large work for piano that Chopin wrote (he barely composed for the last couple of TB-racked years of his life). Here she shifted gears in her musical approach and relaxed the straight line, giving the first page of the piece a spacious, recitative-like, improvisatory feel. Throughout the rest of the work she unhurriedly brought poetry and varied color to its moody episodes, then escalated to the work’s impassioned climax with some real excitement and abandon.

Until very recently, Mendelssohn’s Fantasy in F-Sharp minor, Op. 28, also known as “Sonate Écossaise” or “the Scottish Sonata”, was rarely placed on recital programs. The pianists of the grand manner era only played his Songs Without Words, Rondo Capriccioso, Scherzo, Op. 16 No. 2, or on occasion his Variations Serieuses. Horowitz, who programmed the latter, once told David Dubal in a radio interview that he thought Mendelssohn was “too neat” as a composer; the serialist Milton Babbitt, on the other hand, opined in an interview late in life that received musical opinion had been “unfair” to Mendelssohn. Today the Scottish Sonata appears regularly in recitals, and Azalea Kelley made a good case for it at the beginning of the second half of her program, marking the double bar ends of its first two movements with longer pauses than they are customarily given (though Mendelssohn wrote each a transitional bar of rest with a fermata, they are generally played attacca). She brought out the quasi-Schumannesque quality of the second movement, and hurtled through the Presto with clearcut yet vertiginous velocity.

Perhaps her most musically compelling performance of the evening, after the Polonaise-Fantasie, was the Chopin B-flat minor Sonata (Ms. Kelley explained in remarks spoken to her audience that Chopin had composed the Funeral March movement first, then the rest of the sonata.). After an exciting, dramatic first movement, she carried the passion into the second movement, but, in the second theme of this second movement, for my taste she made a mistake in pushing the pace and not endowing it with more rubato, delicacy, softer dynamics, and wistfulness of mood, to contrast it with the heroism and robust virtuosic chords and jumps of the first section. The last two movements, however, were triumphs– she brought a plaintive, weeping quality to the familiar opening theme of the funeral march, and the “toccata macabre” of the last movement was suitably sepulchral.

Throughout the recital Ms. Kelley’s playing of the left hand demonstrated an admirable clarity and definition. This has its potential pitfalls. At the beginning of the development section of the first movement of the Beethoven, Op. 10 No. 2 at bar 77, her left hand punched the eighth notes as if they were brass oom-pahs. On the other hand, during the one encore she played, Chopin’s Nocturne, Opus 9 No. 1, the left-hand accompanimental figures were beautifully voiced, gracefully dressing the cantilena of the right hand line without becoming overpresent in the texture. Throughout the evening she had moments where she played with great delicacy and pianissimo, but her playing might speak even more eloquently if she tried introducing those palette colors more consistently into her interpretations, and to use the damper pedal more sparingly in some contexts where the change of sonority might be telling. Perhaps she could afford to take a more plastic approach to tempo and phrasing without losing her basic strengths, and bring some of the rhapsodic and reposeful qualities of her performance of the Polonaise-Fantasie to other works as well.

It should be noted that Ms. Kelley was playing the church’s resident 92-key Bösendorfer, a piano previously owned by the famed conservative commentator William F. Buckley. The treble range was very bright and piercingly loud at times, while the lower midrange strings had a nasal quality. The four keys below the traditional lowest A (some Bösendorfers, have nine extra keys) enhance the sympathetic resonance of the rest of the strings and the plate and soundboard. They also enable the performance of some rare notes in the published literature. For example, Ferruccio Busoni asks for the written G natural below the bottom-most A in the penultimate measure of the fourth movement of his Indianische Tagebuch. The extra keys also make possible low notes that are theoretically implied in some standard repertoire. In the tumultuous bar 49 of Ravel’s Jeux d’Eau, the left hand ends a downward series of G sharps on the lowest A natural, the composer assuming that in the accompanying rush of sound the pitch will not be perceived as nonharmonic. On an extended range Bösendorfer, that note can be played as the harmonically intended G sharp below the range of the 88 key piano.

Bösendorfer, Steinway, or other instrument, it is clear that Ms. Kelley makes a wonderful, musical sound at the piano, and her future is worth watching.

by Mark N. Grant for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

The Chelsea Symphony

Oscar Thorp, Mark Seto, Matthew Aubin, conductors

Eric Schultz, clarinet

DiMenna Center for Classical Music, New York, NY

June 15, 2024

On June 15, 2024, The Chelsea Symphony presented their closing concert of their 2023-2024 season in a program entitled Rhythm and Colors at the DiMenna Center for Classical Music.

The printed program included a QR code for program notes, which is becoming the standard as of late. While one appreciates the great depth that is available to the reader through this method, the gremlins of technology can wreak havoc on these good intentions – such as the inability to open said notes in a basement level venue, as happened to me (Pro tip: Wi-Fi password, please!). Fortunately for me, only one of the three works on the program was new to me. The reader can access the notes by clicking the following link: Program notes

Conductor Oscar Thorp took the podium to conduct the opening work, Kauyumari, by Gabriela Ortiz (b. 1964). Ms. Ortiz writes in her notes,“Among the Huichol people of Mexico, Kauyumari means ‘blue deer.’ The blue deer represents a spiritual guide, one that is transformed through an extended pilgrimage into a hallucinogenic cactus called peyote.” Ms. Ortiz elaborated on a Huichol melody that she had used for the final movement of her piece, Altar de Muertos (Altar of the Dead), commissioned by the Kronos String Quartet in 1997. I would describe Kauyumari as a cross between Silvestre Revueltas’s Sensemaya and José Pablo Moncayo’s Huapango (two works I rather like) – less sinister than Sensemaya, but also less exuberant than Huapango. It is an effective, colorful work, and the Chelsea Symphony offered a spirited reading.

Conductor Mark Seto and clarinet soloist Eric Schultz took the stage for the next work, the Concerto for Clarinet and Orchestra, by John Corigliano (b. 1938). Mr. Schultz is a Buffet Crampon artist, and has been nominated for a Grammy Music Educator of the Year award (2024), plus having a plethora of accolades too numerous to list (access the above link to learn more). He lists his performance as part of New York City Pride (for Pride month), and The [Represent]atoire Project, an organization he founded focusing on inclusion. He also was coached by John Corigliano for this performance.

Some basic background information: The work was commissioned by the New York Philharmonic for the clarinetist Stanley Drucker. It was first performed in New York City on December 6, 1977, by Drucker and the New York Philharmonic, conducted by Leonard Bernstein. The composition is dedicated to Drucker and Bernstein. The first movement, Cadenzas, consists of two cadenzas separated by an interlude, the first subtitled Ignis fatuus (Will-o’-the-wisp) and the second, Corona solis (crown of the sun). The second movement, Elegy, was composed in memory of Corigliano’s father John Corigliano Sr., a former concertmaster of the New York Philharmonic, who died in 1975. The third movement, Antiphonal Toccata, was composed as Corigliano’s “solution to the balance problems created by using the full orchestra in a wind concerto;” this movement features a number of antiphonal performers and quotes the Italian composer Giovanni Gabrieli’s 1597 composition Sonata pian’ e forte.

Mr. Corigliano was in attendance and was invited to the stage to speak about his work prior to the performance. What a treat it was for all to have this living legend impart his wisdom with such clarity and detail. I am not going to repeat all he said, but one can read the program notes (written by Mr. Corigliano), which cover everything he said, but in even greater detail.

This concerto is not for the faint of heart. I believe one commentator called it “fiendishly difficult,” which is almost a laughable understatement. I took a look at the solo part and my first impression was, “This is impossible!” Of course, it’s not impossible, but to pull it off, some super-virtuosity is a must. Mr. Schultz asserted his ability in no uncertain terms. His rapid passage work was articulated with clarity and wide leaps were negotiated at high speed without any loss of tonal clearness. He displayed mastery of extended techniques and a rich, singing tone in all registers and dynamic levels, including the extreme high register. I have often heard even excellent clarinetists struggle with a stridency of tone and loss of intonation in the extreme high register (“squeaking”). Not so with Mr. Schultz. He is a force!

Highights abound, but I am going to focus on my favorites. The brilliant Cadenzas wereplayed by Mr. Schultz with quicksilver artistry. Elegy, with the dialogue between the solo clarinet and the concertmaster was heartbreakingly poignant, leaving a feeling of desolation that lingered without any healing resolution. The finale, Antiphonal Toccata, was an adrenaline rush, bursting with drama and relentless momentum. Mr. Schultz more than held his own against the orchestra.

Let’s give Maestro Seto and the Chelsea Sypmphony their due. The orchestra part is almost as challenging as the solo part, and they pulled it off with great ability. Just dealing with the antiphonal aspect in conjunction with the orchestra while keeping with the soloist is admirable. Mr. Corigliano gave Mr. Schultz a warm embrace in appreciation for his stunning performance. It is curious that the audience did not take this very clear sign to give Mr. Schultz the ovation he so richly deserved. To be sure, there were those who “got it,” but I am going to assume the rest were so bowled over as to not know what to do. Bravo, Mr. Schultz, Bravo!

After intermission, Matthew Aubin took the podium to conduct Leonard Bernstein’s Symphonic Dances from West Side Story. Bernstein extracted and reorchestrated nine selections from the musical into the Symphonic Dances. Maestro Aubin thanked all for coming this evening, and stated it was an honor to conduct the Symphonic Dances in the presence of Mr. Corigliano, who personally knew Leonard Bernstein. Everything about West Side Story is so well known that there is no need to spend any time on anything other than the performance itself (for those recent arrivals to our planet, I will point you in the direction of the program notes to learn all you wish to know). How was the performance? Other than some unfortunate cracked notes in Somewhere, it was very good! I am always delighted when the players let loose in the Mambo, and whip it into a frenzy, but also when the delicate lightness of the less flamboyant moments is given the appropriate tenderness – and it was. It was an enjoyable finish to the night.

Lone Star Youth Winds

Andrew Trachsel, conductor

Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

June 13, 2024

One often hears and reads about the lamentable state of music education in our country today. Budget cuts which decimate programs that are already struggling to get by, and a seemingly designed intention to minimize the impact of early music education are all very real problems in today’s world. Evidently, Texas did not get the memo, as they are not only thriving, but setting the standards of excellence in music education for all to aspire. There is strong support at all levels, the programs are highly esteemed and a source of state pride, and the young musicians are treated as serious, and not as hobbyists or dilettantes. The Lone Star Youth Winds (LSYW), who blew into Carnegie Hall on June 13, 2024, to deliver a performance that would have been the envy of most band programs, is a prime example of what the Texas model produces.

The LSYW is a featured education program of the Lone Star Wind Orchestra (LSWO). The LSYW is made up of the most outstanding high school (grades 9-12) musicians in Texas. They are placed in a professional environment, with interaction with composers and renowned musicians, and intense sectional instruction from professional musicians. Led by Andrew Trachsel, it would probably be most accurate to liken the LSYW to something between a state honor band and a college level wind ensemble.

Their program, entitled In Two Places, consisted of three segments – first New York, New York, then a segment entitled In Two Places, and finally Texas, our Texas. Each segment had three works. The printed program included a QR code to access the notes, a sixteen-page booklet with detailed information about the works and the composers, which I highly recommend the reader to access: Program Notes.

Before going on, I want to mention a few things that I liked very much, and a few things that I feel are opportunities for this fine group to solidify their stature. First, the good: The listing of the players in the roster alphabetically “as all players are equally essential to the success of this concert” delighted me, not only because it emphasizes the ensemble element, but because it is a truth that almost is never spoken aloud. Having the soloists stand after each piece in itself is not remarkable, but it was done here not as an afterthought or routine, but to give the audience the chance to recognize them and give them a response worthy of their fine playing (and this audience was first-rate in the support and enthusiasm department). Opportunities to refine: There is no need to tune after every single piece, this is something that I would associate with low-level ensembles, which the LSYW is definitely not! Musicians of this caliber can and should be expected to adjust “on-the-fly” as needed. Also, I am puzzled by the conductor leaving the stage after every single piece. I would have expected this only at the close of each segment. It seemed excessive and did not really enhance anything. Mind you, these concerns had no negative impact on the performances themselves. 

On to the music. Conductor Andrew Trachsel took the stage for Part I: New York, New York. All the works have some New York connection (read the notes!). Without much ado, he pushed the accelerator to the floor as the LSYW launched JoyRiDE, by Michael Markowski (b. 1986). This work is a mash-up of Beethoven’s Ode To Joy and John Adams’s Short Ride in a Fast Machine. It’s whimsical insanity, and the LSYW captured the spirit and the maniacal energy with perfection. It was a terrific opener! 

After this, it was a good choice to dial it back, and this took the form of A Simple Song, from Leonard Bernstein’s Mass. The best way I could describe this reading was that it was sincere. The ensemble balance was tight, the climaxes were rendered naturally without overdoing it (which is also due to the skill of Maestro Trachsel), and special kudos are in order for the nice trumpet solo work. 

The final work of this segment was Robert Sheldon’s (b. 1954) Metroplex: Three Postcards from Manhattan. Mr. Sheldon writes about Metroplex: “A music portrait of Manhattan’s cityscape, Metroplex opens with a vision of the New York City skyline, evoking looming buildings and concrete canyons. From there, the melody travels to the heart of an urban jazz scene, characteristic of the city’s famous night clubs. Finally, the piece takes us on a wild taxi ride through the heavy traffic of a bustling metropolis. The skyline is seen once more as we leave Manhattan, hopefully to return again soon.” It is brash and loud (of course!) and teeming with unlimited energy. Some listeners have detected influences (e.g., William Schuman’s George Washington Bridge, and Earl Hagen’s Harlem Nocturne), and I would add Slaughter on Tenth Avenue and On The Town to that list, not as any accusation of plagiarism, but hooking the listener with familiar references in a different way. It was a delightful romp to end this segment (and may your taxi rides not be anything like this!).

Moving on to Part II: In Two Places. Suite No.1 in E-flat, by Gustav Holst, opened. Holst is one of the founding fathers of wind ensemble (band, if you must) music, who is still a role model for composers today. This work is a masterpiece that is a must-play for any ensemble that aspires to be considered top-notch. Accordingly, the expectation bar is set high, and there are so many outstanding performances out there to hear, that it is a high-risk proposition to program this work. How did the LSYW measure up? As a whole, very well. Fantastic job tuba section in the opening Chaconne, and I liked the driven, but steady “push, push” quality in the Intermezzo and the vigorous ensemble playing in the finale, March. There was some shaky intonation in the trumpets that I am not going to let slide – that’s the downside of being at a high level. I might have let this pass unmentioned for a less talented group.

Next up was In Two Places, by Haley Woodrow (b. 1984). As Ms. Woodrow writes, the title is both an allusion to her double-life as a musician (performer and composer), feeling “in two places at once,” and the composition’s “struggle” between major and minor modes, but both with similar underpinnings (e.g., eighth-note “motor”). There is also a clear homage to Holst’s E-flat suite. In Two Places was the winner of the 2019 Women’s Band Composition Contest, led by Shannon Shaker. It is a worthy addition to the repertoire, and the LYSW made the most of the built-in lyricism and soaring melodies to deliver a memorable performance that could be a role-model for other ensembles. 

The last work in this segment was the world premiere of Eleanór a Rún, by Julie Giroux (b. 1961). The program listed Ms. Giroux as guest conductor, but she was not in attendance, and it was not announced why she was absent. Eleanór a Rún is a love song composed in the 16th century and recognized as part of the traditional Irish repertoire of unaccompanied ballads known as sean-nós song (the term sean-nós means “in the old way”). The origin of sean-nós singing is unknown, but researchers suggest that it probably dates back to at least the 13th century.

Clarinetist Sophia Kidwell came to the front of the stage and sang the original tune, with some lower woodwinds approximating the drone of bagpipes. If Ms. Kidwell tires of clarinet, she has a future as a vocalist, her voice was absolutely enchanting! After returning to her seat, the performance proper began. Maestro Trachsel led with a sensitive touch. After one verse, harmonized by Ms. Giroux, she decided to complete the story, with the singer successfully courting Eleanór, winning her hand in marriage, and live a happily life until death as soul mates. Ms. Giroux is a composer of great skill and a master musical storyteller. We all fell in love with Eleanór through her writing. The LYSW played this poignant love story with a reverence that reflected a maturity far beyond their years. It is regrettable that Ms. Giroux was not in attendance, both to witness this remarkable performance and to receive the applause that was so richly deserved. 

Part III: Texas, Our Texas was all about composers with strong ties to Texas. All Things So Wondrous, by William Owens (b. 1963) opened. Mr. Owens writes, “To date, Lobe den Herren (Praise to the Lord, the Almighty) endures as one of the world’s most beloved and frequently sung hymns. The original text comes by way of 17th century author Joachim Neander (1650-1680), while the melody is likely derived from German folk music. Taking its title from the second verse of the hymn, All Things So Wondrous fuses the familiar melody with original material culminating in a vibrant work for today’s concert band. The attacks were well-articulated in the opening, the middle section had an extraordinarily rich harmonic setting, and the “fugal” finish was stirring. 

Twilight in the Wilderness, by Christopher Tucker (b. 1976), followed the Owens work. Twilight in the Wilderness is a musical impression of the paintings of Frederick Edwin Church, specifically his painting Twilight in the Wilderness. The work opens with a recording of bird calls, which brought to mind Einojuhani Rautavaara’s Cantus Arcticus (a work I love), but that is only a passing similarity. Twilight in the Wilderness is pastoral to the core, and there are episodes of great beauty that were played with a naturalness that was captivating. The woodwinds were especially vibrant. Mr. Tucker was in attendance, and came to the stage to accept the congratulations of Maestro Trachsel and the audience for his masterful work. 

Last, but certainly not least in this segment (and the concert), was Symphonic Dance No. 3, Fiesta, by Clifton Williams (1923-1976). Clifton Williams is one of the immortals of wind ensemble music; his music is still as fresh and impactful today as it was when first performed, and his legacy lives on in many of his students who began luminaries of the wind ensemble composing world. If there ever was a Mount Rushmore for wind ensemble composers, Clifton Williams would be there (you can fight amongst yourselves as to the other three). 

This work is an undisputed classic. It is filled with the sounds of Mexico, street bands, bull fights, vibrant colors, and the pride of the Mexican people that are as much a part of Texas as they are of Mexico, but all with the unmistakable “Williams” sound (and not John!). As much as I enjoyed everything, this performance simply was head-and-shoulders above what preceded it. It was as if the LSYW had found a new level of excitement and energy. If it were a race car before, it was a rocket ship now. In a word, WOW! The audience seemed to sense the same and erupted into a standing ovation. Well done, LSYW, I look forward to following your future successes. 

Greg Gilpin, composer/conductor; Christopher Tin, composer/conductor

Holly Sedillos, soprano; Jimmer Bolden, tenor

Distinguished Concerts Orchestra; Distinguished Concerts Singers International

Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

June 9, 2024

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) ended its 2023-2024 series with a concert entitled “We Sing! We Rise! We Soar!: The Music of Christopher Tin.” The first half featured Greg Gilpin, conducting his own works and arrangements of folk songs. The second half featured Christopher Tin conducting his own works. The Distinguished Concerts Singers came from Maine, Virginia, Oregon, New Mexico, Florida, Nevada, Texas, California, Canada, United Kingdom, and individual singers from around the globe. They were supported by a large audience who cheered for their stars from start to finish with unabashed enthusiasm, something even this occasionally jaded reviewer finds to be heartening.

Greg Gilpin took the stage for the first half. He is a DCINY favorite (this being his eighth appearance with DCINY), and he is a dynamo with a special talent for working with young singers. I have witnessed Mr. Gilpin at work on many occasions, and have written that he is “‘all in’ – cajoling, gyrating, singing along, whatever it takes to coax these youngsters to heights they probably never imagined possible.” He radiates such positivity and optimism that one cannot help but be pulled into the spirit.

For the sake of completeness, Mr. Gilpin’s works were Gloria in Excelsis Deo (obviously his arrangement of the Latin), We Sing! We Rise! We Soar!, and Hope Is a Waking Dream. The other works were two folk songs, one a Hebrew folk song, and the other from Torres Straits Island, Jacob Arcadelt’s a cappella setting of Ave Maria, and Dance! by Robert Gibson.

It is true that a reviewer who has been assigned to many such choral performances can tire of certain recurring features (the obligatory handclapping, for instance; today it was a clap and stomp “dance” that resembled a haka); nonetheless, I am not going to do the usual “critic” thing and fuss about this and that, but rather focus on the love of music that is alive and well in these kids. As Mr. Gilpin said, “they (these youngsters) are the future,” and knowing that should give us all hope. Whatever these young singers end up doing in the future, they all can be proud of standing on the stage of one of the most famous music venues in the world and singing their hearts out. Their fans gave them a standing ovation.

After intermission, Christopher Tin took the podium to conduct selections from his own works. Soprano Holly Sedillos, and tenor Jimmer Bolden were the featured soloists. This was Mr. Tin’s second appearance as a conductor with DCINY. As a bit of background, Mr. Tin is a two-time Grammy winner whose 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. His Calling All Dawns was the 2011 Best Classical Crossover Grammy winner.

I’m not going to cover this half in linear style, but rather group the selections that come from larger works together. Sogno di Volare is an adaptation of Leonardo da Vinci’s writings on flight. It was originally composed as the theme song for the video game Civilization VI. It is a four-minute soaring journey of the celebration of the human spirit, and it was played and sung with exuberance. It was a great start to this half.

Baba Yetu (from Calling All Dawns), which put Mr. Tin on the worldwide map, had to be a part of this concert, of course. I’ve heard it performed live several times, and many more on recordings and videos. I was not expecting anything revolutionary, but when Jimmer Bolden launched into his solo, it struck me that “this is the way it is supposed to be!” – something I was not at all prepared for.

The Saddest Noise (text by Emily Dickinson), Wild Swans (text by Edna St. Vincent Millay), and Hope is the Thing with Feathers (text by Emily Dickinson) are all from The Lost Birds. Mr. Tin collaborated with VOCES8 in a recording of The Lost Birds. These three selections are all poignant in their own way, with heartbreak, impassioned cries, and meditative, almost fragile melodies. I have previously heard the VOCES8 recording, and it is ridiculously hard to have to compete with those heavenly voices, but the large forces did a wonderful job in projecting all that emotion. The Saddest Noise is a favorite of this listener, and it was very sensitively done.

Iza Ngomso (a Xhosa translation of Longfellow’s Kerabos) and Waloyo Yamoni (“We Overcome the Wind,” a Lango rainmaking litany) come from The Drop that Contained the Sea. Mr. Bolden was again dynamic in Iza Ngomso, but his work in Waloyo Yamoni was the highlight of the evening for this listener. He has a regal bearing and a voice to match! I don’t wish to overlook Holly Sedillos, who was a force to reckon with in her own right. Waloyo Yamoni is a thirteen-minute showstopper overflowing with passion that brought the house down. The last notes had barely sounded before the crowd leapt to their feet in a standing ovation. As seems to be customary for Mr. Tin, his fans attempted to raise the cheering decibel bar to new highs, and they might have succeeded on this occasion. Congratulations to all!

Noise Catalogue: Madeline Hocking, violin; Jonathan Collazo, Dániel Matei, percussion

Knox Peters, visuals

Special guests: Dylan Ofrias & Katherine Fortunato, percussion; Adrienne Schoenfeld, bass; Nacho Ojeda, piano; Austin Philemon, organ; Rea Abel, flute

Holy Trinity Lutheran Church, New York, NY

June 8, 2024

Noise Catalogue, the winners of the 2023 Dwight and Ursula Mamlok Junior Prize for “significant contributions to the performance of contemporary music,” presented a program of works all composed within the last two years (with a number of them having their world premiere performances) at the Holy Trinity Lutheran Church on the evening of June 8, 2024.

Noise Catalogue describes themselves as “a contemporary music collective comprised of Madeline Hocking (violin), Dániel Matei (percussion), and Jonathan Collazo (percussion), in addition to the vast array of musicians and artists with whom they collaborate in their unique concert curations.” Tonight they were joined by Dylan Ofrias and Katherine Fortunato (percussion), Adrienne Schoenfeld (bass), Nacho Ojeda (piano), Austin Philemon (organ), Rea Abel (flute), and Knox Peters (visuals).

This was not the type of concert for listeners who are not prepared to be challenged, to open their minds and ears to sounds and ideas that are unconventional, and even to be confused and have their patience pushed to the extreme limits. Even people who are devotees of contemporary music can find it provocative for the sake of being provocative. This is not a criticism, it is important that there are individuals and ensembles willing to push the envelope, and Noise Catalogue has my respect for their commitment to their mission.

Without any preamble, the first half opened with Three Meditations on Music from Luigi Rossi’s Collection (2023), by Reiko Füting (b. 1970). These three short organ pieces explored the idea of tonal decay in a variety of timbres and moods. They were expertly played by organist Austin Philemon.

Compare the way we move (2023), by Molly Herron (b. 1982) followed the Füting. Percussionist Dániel Matei greeted the audience before settling in to perform this work. The “instruments” were a doorstop, a metal ruler, and a broken flowerpot with shards of different sizes placed on a wooden table. The “music” was the sound of the oscillations of the objects when being set in motion by the performer, the sound itself amplified by contact microphones on the underside of the table. The use of everyday objects for this purpose is hardly original, but the actual effect was quite mesmerizing. The probably unintended and unforeseen “addition” of the ambient street noise heightened the effect.

 In our own house, by Alvin Singleton (b. 1940), was next, with Mr. Collazo, Ms. Hocking, Ms. Abel, and Mr. Ojeda. There was much interplay, with insistent motifs and “call and answer” dialogues. It was played with great energy and commitment.

There are two ways to escape suffering it… the second is risky, and demands constant vigilance and apprehension, by Dániel Matei (b. 1994), followed. It had the four percussionists demonstrating their considerable skills as individuals and as an ensemble. There were moments that had a definite drumline vibe that took me back to playing on the DCI circuit. I would not be surprised if Mr. Matei had been in a Drum & Bugle corps in his younger days.

Two works by Madeline Hocking (b. 1995), A chopped tree still splinters to text by Knox Peters, and I look forward to hearing from you (a world premiere) ended the first half. Ms. Peters read her text aloud to A chopped tree, and joined Ms. Hocking in the set-up of a “prepared violin” before joining her in a duet. Ms. Hocking writes in her notes that I look forward to hearing from you was written especially for this event and this venue. All personnel were involved as they were spread throughout the church. Ms. Hocking has talent as a composer- there were moments that had a “soundtrack” sound, and some jazzy piano riffs that sounded improvised, before remembering this is “Noise Catalogue,” and getting back to some more edgy sounds. Other than the Füting work, it was the most accessible piece of the evening.

After intermission, Zakhme, by Bahar Royaee (b.1984), opened the second half. All the players except Mr. Ofrias were involved, and Ms. Peters provided a visual component. The notes tell us the inspiration was the recent Iranian movement called “Woman, Life, Freedom,” a response to “long suppressed social anguish.” Zakhme is the Farsi word for the pick used to play Iranian zithers, and the origin of this word traces back to zakhm, meaning wound. The work begins with the bass being flat on the floor with two strings attached to the bridge as to bind (the oppression?) and the player going at each side of the bridge with a bow in each hand (the wound?). Eventually the binds are removed and the bass is raised to its proper playing position, but with almost all the tension removed from the E-string. The visual component was a painting in what appeared to be various states of completion (there were hints of movement suggesting invisible brush strokes). The concept is ingenious, but there is room for refinement- what the visual had to do with what one heard was at best obscure, and it ended long before the sounds did. Whether this was a miscalculation or intended is not clear, but it was curious. There also comes a time when the message has been received, and further iterations become tiresome. This listener, who generally has the patience for nearly anything, found himself getting increasingly restless, and this negatively impacted my listening experience.

The final work of the evening was theworld premiere of Employee Training (2024), by Thomas Palmer (b. 1997). The performers were Knox Peters (spoken word, projections), Madeline Hocking, Dániel Matei & Jon Collazo. Mr. Palmer briefly spoke, describing his work as a reflection of the inhumanity of corporate culture and the search for humanity within. A more cynical interpretation of what was presented would have suggested this was a Marxist commentary on the evils of capitalism. It’s all in the “eyes of the beholder,” which may or may not please the composer, depending on the reaction. The projected video had flashing of memos in “corporate speak” being edited with increasingly despairing terms, spreadsheets with cells filled with the words, “Keep going, keep it up, keep going, girl boss,” scrolling through at high speed, a photograph of a tract of all identical houses, aerial views of a industrial plant, and employees looking as if they are hypnotized into some sort of worshipful reverence of an unseen force, and canned, fake cheery “hold music” and other mundane instructions being played on a tape recorder. “Training” here is really a code word for indoctrination- Brave New World meets A Clockwork Orange meets Triumph of the Will. Whatever one’s take-away was, it was “worth the ride.” I wish Noise Catalogue great success in their future endeavors.