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Golden Classical Music Awards presents Winners Concert in Review

Hyejin Lee, violin

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York

November 2, 2018

Violinist Hyejin Lee appeared on a marathon concert of competition winners. Ms. Lee was born in South Korea where she began her musical studies at age 10. She received her bachelor’s degree from Chungang University , her master’s degree at the University of Cincinnati, and her doctoral degree in violin performance at the University of North Texas. She chose the first movement of Prokofiev’s little-known Sonata for solo violin in D major, Op. 115. Few know that it was originally intended for an entire class of violinists, as many as twenty, playing in unison (traditional in Russian pedagogy of the time), and what a ruckus that would have made.

It would be rash as well as impossible to assess someone’s talent on the basis of only four minutes of playing. However, I can report that Ms. Lee gave a confident reading of the work, strong in rhythm, though lacking sufficient dynamic contrast. The sharpness of accentuation that gives Prokofiev’s music its sardonic bite was also downplayed. The movement has two contrasting theme areas: the first, a sort of rough village dance, the second, a lyrical song. These two could have been delineated with greater character, nevertheless her poise was admirable, after waiting nearly two hours backstage.

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

Creative Classical Concert Management presents Eun Jung Vicky Lee in Review

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.

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

New York Public Library for the Performing Arts presents Joanne Chang in Review

When East Meets West in New York City: 20th Century Western and 21st Century American Eastern Music

Joanne Chang, piano

Bruno Walter Auditorium, New York, NY

Thursday, November 1, 2018, 6 PM

You know you’re at an original recital when a Schubert/Liszt transcription and Debussy’s Suite bergamasque are the outliers. Joanne Chang had the inspired idea of presenting works from a variety of contemporary and/or less-often heard sources, with two of them composed specially for her. The range of nationalities in the unusual repertoire was vast: Syrian/American, Chinese/American, Taiwanese/American, Cuban/Spanish, Afro/Cuban, and African/American. It was in the contemporary works that Ms. Chang was most successful.

The center and heart of her program was a beautiful performance of three of Kareem Roustom’s five Aleppo Songs (How Beautiful the Light of the Rising Sun, Antiochian Hymn, Oh People, Leave me to my Sorrows ), a memorial to a once-vibrant city now nearly completely destroyed by civil war (It was not, as announced, a New York premiere, which was on Nov. 8, 2017). Ms. Chang’s sonorities were crystalline and perfectly gauged, and her expressive involvement with the music was obvious and deep. The first song, How Beautiful the Light of the Rising Sun was stunning.

This was followed by two works written for Ms. Chang, in their NY premieres. Man Fang’s Drunk in the shade of blossoms, inspired by a twelfth century Chinese female poet, set as a piano solo by a female composer. We need more representations like this to equalize the rather dominant male sector in classical music. This work had a beautiful central contrapuntal section that started with one voice, adding imitative voices to reach a quasi-fugal texture that was as austerely expressive as any by Bach. Ms. Chang was in her element, with the widest possible range of piano sonorities.

Ms. Chang then turned to Hsin-Jung Tsai’s Sutra of Emptiness, based on the composer’s (again female) practice of Buddhism. The work requires many types of technique, including “nontraditional” inside-the-piano playing, working with resonances of silently held notes, and “traditional” in the form of repeated notes, which Ms. Chang dispatched with complete confidence, never losing expression in the process. The work is cyclic, that is, material heard at the beginning recurs at the end, a formal procedure that greatly assists any listener who may feel “lost” in contemporary music. This work stood out from the rest in my mind.

The recital had opened with the Schubert/Liszt Gretchen am Spinnrade transcription, which seemed a strange choice to me, but was well-played. Debussy’s Suite bergamasque abounded in all manner of un-French rubato and draggy tempos that robbed the music of its eloquence (yes, even in early Debussy restraint is preferable). The pianissimi were not soft enough, and I wondered why Ms. Chang was not using the una corda pedal more. If there was any quibble about Ms. Chang’s playing, it was that she misjudged her forte dynamics in the extremely small hall that is Bruno Walter on a nine-foot concert grand. However, she played gorgeously soft passages in the contemporary works.

The recital closed with two groups. First, three of Ernesto Lecuona’s Spanish or Afro-Cuban inspired dances: Malagueña, Y la negra bailaba!, and Danza Lucumi. Once relegated to the salon, Lecuona’s music is taken much more seriously these days, with pioneering sets of his piano music on record. Ms. Chang played Y la negra bailaba! with nice lilt, but the other two pieces were stentorian. Malagueña, though it has many fff indications, also has many piano dynamics, and slurs, which Ms. Chang ignored for the most part. I didn’t detect much of the Lucumi (an Afro-Cuban ethnicity descended from the Yoruba who practice the Santeria religion) in the dance named for them.

Ms. Chang then finished the satisfying evening with a true rarity, two rags, The Thriller and Dusty, by a female ragtime composer, May Aufderheide. They were performed with enthusiasm, but too fast, ignoring Scott Joplin’s advice “Never play ragtime too fast.” Aufderheide herself made piano rolls of her own works, which are elegant.

I salute Ms. Chang for her adventurous programming, and hope that she continues in this way.

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

Regina Shenderovich, pianist, in Review

Regina Shenderovich, piano

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

October 30, 2018

It is a rare pianist who undertakes to play the entire Art of the Fugue (Die Kunst der Fugue, BWV 1080) of J. S. Bach, especially in live concert. The work is an approximately eighty-minute masterpiece of fourteen fugues (Contrapuncti) plus four canons, all based on a single somber theme in D minor which is given an encyclopedic range of treatments – inversions, augmentations, diminutions, elaborations, stretti, double, triple, and mirror fugues, and just about every imaginable compositional manipulation. It has long been studied by musicians as a model of counterpoint, but it has been considered by many to be too cerebrally taxing for concert audiences.

Ensemble performances, including performances by the Juilliard String Quartet and the Stuttgart Chamber Orchestra, to name two, have met with success, due in part to the clarity provided by differing instruments assigned to different lines. As the work was composed without specified instrumentation and in open score (just soprano, alto, tenor, and bass staves), it has remained uncertain how the work was intended to be played, though again some persist in theorizing that it was meant not to be played at all and is of purely theoretical value. A pianist performing it is thus faced not only with the colossal challenge of “merely” playing it, but also some persistent criticism of the very act of performing it.

Despite such a challenge (or because of it), some renowned keyboard artists have been drawn to perform and/or record the work, notable among them pianists Glenn Gould, Tatiana Nikolayeva, and Pierre-Laurent Aimard, not including harpsichordists and organists. More recent contributions have included those by Evgeni Koroliov and Angela Hewitt, but the numbers are still relatively few. We can now add another name to this list of intrepid musicians: Regina Shenderovich. For the reader wanting only to hear about her exceptional recital at Weill Hall and not about the work, one can skip the next paragraph – but meanwhile, there is one more challenge to discuss.

The earliest autograph of Die Kunst der Fuge (or KDF as it is abbreviated) stems from the 1740’s, but when Bach resumed work on it in the years prior to his death in 1750, he was suffering from a debilitating eye disease. J. S. Bach’s son, C.P.E. Bach, supervised its posthumous publication in 1751, but the final fugue, Contrapunctus XIV, had been left unfinished due to Bach’s death. (There were other questions linked with the publication as well, some attributed to C.P.E Bach and some to the engravers.) Performers have tackled the incompleteness variously. Some (including Glenn Gould and the Academy of St. Martin in the Fields) recorded it unfinished – one of music’s stranger experiences to hear this amazing music cut off mid-measure! Others have used completions composed by scholars, including one by Donald Francis Tovey in the early twentieth century and more recently the beautiful completion by Kevin Korsyn (as heard on pianist Craig Sheppard’s CD released just this past September). How would tonight’s pianist approach these challenges – and of course, how would she play it?

Enter Regina Shenderovich, walking onstage with modest, unassuming demeanor. She opened, amazingly, with yet another fugue, Mendelssohn’s Prelude and Fugue in E minor, Op. 35, No. 1, giving it an admirable performance (if perhaps adding unnecessarily to the program’s ample scope – the Bach was really enough for one evening)! After a brief break Ms. Shenderovich returned for the Bach, and what followed was simply spellbinding. Navigating this great work with undemonstrative lucidity and indisputable mastery, Ms. Shenderovich guided her listener expertly through this mind-boggling Bach journey. She is a musician of prodigious gifts, including a formidable intellect.

Not only was Ms. Shenderovich able to project each fugue subject with clarity, whether direct, inverted, in augmentation, or in whatever form, but she followed each line faithfully through to its conclusion as other layers intertwined. What is behind some of Ms. Shenderovich’s success is – aside from her exceptional mind – her highly developed finger technique, capable of projecting a theme dynamically and taming whatever contrapuntal brambles surround it. Of course, dynamic control was far from her only resource, as she delivered each entrance with sufficient variety of articulation to render the subsequent entrances vividly recognizable without the excessive dynamic emphasis that can quickly grow so tiresome.

Overall, Ms. Shenderovich achieved a transparency of texture, such that that one found oneself admiring the beautiful variety of countersubjects, episodes, and surrounding counterpoint rather than feeling prodded to check off “important” entrances as if one were birdwatching and labeling each sighting. One could always hear a fugue subject, but more aptly put, its presence was felt – and one was never bludgeoned with it.

There are undoubtedly pianists out there whose severity of approach convinces critics that the set should not be performed; it is a different story, however, when there is sincere dedication to the “Art” in The Art of the Fugue. Ms. Shenderovich’s performance, although far from the overt emotion of, let’s say, Glenn Gould, reflected a genuine and deep commitment to the music, and she made a compelling case for its performance on the modern piano.

It would be good to see Ms. Shenderovich continue to perform this work and possibly to record it at some point. Once an interpretation has reached such a high level, that is where the “magic” really begins, as the musician takes time to step back from it and return to it with even more life. There is already individuality in her interpretation – the freewheeling dancelike character of her Contrapunctus IX, the expressive lingering before some entrances (memorably in Contrapunctus X), and much more; one could, however, imagine even more color and “play” in the imitative lines towards the end of Contrapuctus XIII Inversus and other spots. The very open score nature of the music in fact encourages freedom of imagination, including vocal phrasing and nuance.

One hesitates, though, to suggest anything in the face of what was already such an enormous achievement.

Now, what about the work’s ending? Well, on this occasion Ms. Shenderovich chose to play the final Contrapunctus XIV in its incomplete version, but she softened that blow after a momentary pause by playing the chorale prelude Wenn wir höchsten Nöten sein (When we are in utmost need) also known as Vor deinen Thron tret ich hiermit (Before Thy Throne I now appear) BWV 668a. C.P.E. Bach had included this chorale prelude in the posthumous publication of The Art of the Fugue and faced some later criticism for a seemingly arbitrary decision – yet J. S. Bach was reported to be revising it in his last days, and that association led it to be known as the Deathbed Chorale. It seemed a justifiable choice to close the pensive evening, and Ms. Shenderovch played it beautifully. The entire concert was dedicated to the memory of Ms. Shenderovich’s mother, Polina Shenderovich, and the mood was fittingly meditative.

Incidentally, for those who wish to know, Ms. Shenderovich chose to play The Art of the Fugue with the score, though one doubts that she needed it. Surely no harm came from having the score there, except for the occasional nanosecond distraction of page-turning. Such details have many solutions, including computer page-turning from digitized score, but one half expects that Ms. Shenderovich will play the work again at some point without the score, as it is all surely a part of her.

This listener gave the performer a well-deserved standing ovation and only regretted that there were not more people present to enjoy and appreciate the concert. Granted, it was not a program for the uninitiated – certainly not one for junior’s first concert! – but it seemed criminal that there were any empty seats. Perhaps a performer who is inclined to devote the necessary attention to Die Kunst der Fuge is not typically one with the time or skills for marketing (get that pianist a manager!), but more could have been done to promote the evening. There was also nothing by way of written promotion of Ms. Shenderovich as a pianist on the program, and so one still knows little about her. Certainly nothing in a brief internet search prepared one for her tremendous abilities, just as nothing about her “just another day” stage presence did. It was all about Bach – and a beautiful experience because of it. Brava and encore!

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

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Transform. Innovate. Inspire in Review

The Rensselaer Orchestra

Nicholas DeMaison, conductor

Shirley Ann Jackson, Ph.D, President of Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute

Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

October 24, 2018

To celebrate the addition of the Bachelor of Science in Music degree at Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute (founded in 1824), Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presented the newly formed Rensselaer Orchestra in a program called Transform. Innovate. Inspire. – all ideals that Rensselaer emphasizes.

The degree is designed for what the institute calls “21st century careers in music, in fields such as sound design for virtual reality, composition for interactive games, and algorithms for music networks.” While a student may opt for a single major, the idea of pairing with a STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering, Mathematics) discipline is the intent, in a program called Art_X. This pairing of art with another field (“X”) will appeal to a wider demographic of students who have talents in both fields.

Shirley Ann Jackson, the President of Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute spoke before the concert to outline these goals and to thank the many sponsors (individual and corporate) who made this evening a reality.

Bearing in mind that this is an orchestra just formed, and that their numbers were greatly enhanced by the addition of “professional musicians” (the printed program’s designation), it would not be productive to be overly critical. However, there are always some ideals that must be met (intonation, balance, ensemble, etc), and there are no free passes issued. The fact that the program was what most would consider to be a half of a full concert speaks of the challenge of preparing works for concert performance. This is not meant to be a criticism, as it is always better to play a short program well than to struggle with a longer one.

Nicholas DeMaison took the podium to conduct Missy Mazzoli’s River Rogue Transfiguration in its New York City Premiere. Commissioned by the Detroit Symphony Orchestra, River Rogue Transfiguration was inspired by a 1927 photo by Charles Sheeler of the Ford Motor Company’s River Rogue Plant, which was the largest integrated factory in the world. There is a definite “working” sound (think of Raymond Scott’s “Powerhouse” without the cartoonish-ness), which is highly evocative – a ten-minute musical tour of a factory with all the chaos amid highly organized production.

It seems to this listener that the work never quite reached critical mass, that it simmered but never smoldered. A bit more boldness would have made a world of difference, but aside from this reservation, it was a solid performance of a imaginative work.

Sibelius’s Symphony No. 5 in E-flat major, Op. 82 was the final work on the program. Written in 1915 and revised several times (the 1919 final revision was played), it is Sibelius looking both into the past and the future simultaneously with his consummate mastery.

The opening was excellent, which had my expectations heightened for what was to come. The results were variable. While there were moments of sublime playing, there were issues of balance (winds overpowering the strings), some problematic intonation within sections, and a certain timidity in the string section. To be fair, these are all issues that affect much more established orchestras as well. The basics are there, but there is a need for polishing the finer details.

The second movement suffered from heaviness of sound under the lovely “chirping” theme of the woodwinds, an issue easily solved by reining in the exuberance of the brass section. Even with this issue, it was still enchanting.

The strings came into their own in the third movement finale, with incisive, crisp playing and a boldness I had been hoping for earlier. The horn motif (which Donald Tovey likened to “Thor swinging his hammer”) was arresting. The final six staggered chords, all separated by silences, were tossed off like thunderbolts, which was thrilling to hear.

Maestro DeMaison is an ideal conductor for this orchestra. One can see his continual coaching and encouragement to his musicians, his clear and decisive direction, and his unflagging energy. Given time, he should have these players at a higher level that will not require any supplementing from outside musicians.

The supportive members of the Rensselaer community gave their stars a prolonged standing ovation, of which they can feel very proud. Congratulations, and may the program realize the promise of what was launched on this night.

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

Pro Musicis Presents the Solera Quartet in Review

Solera String Quartet: Tricia Park, violin; Miki-Sophia Cloud, violin;

Molly Carr viola; Andrew Janss, cello;

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

October 23, 2018

This past Tuesday night, Weill Recital Hall was the scene of a highly promising and successful debut for the Solera Quartet, in a program that included Mozart’s String Quartet in D minor, K. 173, Beethoven’s String Quartet in A minor, Op. 132, and a quartet entitled Entr’acte (composed in 2011) by Caroline Shaw (b. 1982).

Winner of the 2017 Pro Musicis International Award (and the same organization’s 2018 Father Eugéne Merlet Award for Community Service), the New York City-based Solera Quartet, founded in 2015, is made up of four musicians with outstanding credentials quite apart from their work with Solera. Violinists Tricia Park and Miki-Sophia Cloud, violist Molly Carr, and cellist Andrew Janss have individual biographies which cite an Avery Fisher Career Grant, a Grammy nomination, a top prize in the Primrose International Viola Competition, and collaborations with renowned musicians in the world’s most prominent venues. The individual strengths of these four technically polished and musically vibrant performers were abundantly clear in Tuesday’s recital, but more important to see was that they work well as a very tightly knit ensemble, an achievement not always guaranteed by individual success.

Beyond their playing, Solera is a string quartet with noble missions. One of its stated missions is a charitable one, as they perform for incarcerated communities through their Prison Residency Project (recognized with a Guarneri String Quartet Residency, funded by the Chamber Music America Residency Partnership Program) – a commendable enterprise. Another of the quartet’s missions is to bridge old and new in music, based (as its biography states) “on a deep respect for the rich string quartet tradition alongside an intrepid desire to add new layers to that tradition through its fresh interpretations and innovative approach to the concert experience.” This mixture of old and new is expressed by the very name Solera, originally a Spanish word for the process of making wines and spirits by layering old and new vintages in one barrel.

While their name is ingenious (and arguably more mellifluous than the Japanese equivalent, shitsugi!), and their credentials are certainly impressive, one tries not to be swayed by anything but music. After all, artists are promoted these days as all things to all people – avant garde yet traditional, youthful yet mature, and so on – so which sort of spirit would this Solera barrel truly yield?

Their Mozart, K. 173, which opened, was played with a good mix of youthful vigor and mature probing for a work reflecting Mozart’s deepening involvement (at age seventeen) with this instrumentation. To continue the wine image, one could compare it to the first Beaujolais nouveau of the autumn, fresh, dark, and delicious! With the extroverted expressiveness of Ms. Park and Ms. Cloud, the golden sound of Mr. Janss, and the warm lines and support of Ms. Carr, the ensemble’s vibrancy commanded the audience’s attention from start to finish.

The Solera’s approach is highly physically demonstrative, to the point where one felt the upper strings might go airborne at any moment – a tendency which this reviewer hoped would not affect the hallowed Beethoven to come – but it worked to bring the Mozart a choreographic expressiveness. It can be thrilling for an audience to see the solo lines and phrases heightened visually, and undoubtedly some of this movement can enhance the group’s unity at times. In any case it was clear that all four musicians were truly present in every moment. Appropriately, Every Moment Present is the title of the Solera Quartet’s newly released CD, which this listener looks forward to hearing.

Particular highlights in the Mozart were the Menuetto with its central Trio full of playful phrasing and nuance, and the fugal last movement, a tour de force with its chromatic opening entrance delivered boldly by Mr. Janss and expertly knit together in the subsequent counterpoint. The first movement was the only movement that felt a bit uneasy to this listener, as if the violins were possibly trying to minimize the doggedness of its relentless repeated-note motif (one which one might call Beethovenian, had Beethoven not been only age three at the time of its composition in 1773).

The highlight of the program for this listener followed, Entr’acte by Pulitzer Prize-winning composer Caroline Shaw. Inspired by Haydn’s quartet op. 77, No. 2 and “its spare and soulful shift to an unexpected key for the central trio in the minuet,” Entr’acte takes things, as the composer’s notes state, “to the other side of Alice’s looking glass in a kind of absurd, subtle, technicolor transition.” It is an emotionally powerful work, reflecting clear connections to traditional string quartet music, but with inspired twists, dissonances, and extended techniques to convey (as this reviewer interpreted it) a musical tale of disintegration, struggle, and final loss.

The Solera Quartet played Entr’acte with complete commitment and intense involvement. As its tonal opening harmonies became increasingly disjunct, the musicians skillfully projected that dissolution, descending into what is marked on the score as “pitchless bow noise” – not an easy thing to pull off dramatically, and resulting inevitably in a laugh or two from a few unprepared audience members. The quartet handled the structure expertly, rebuilding energy in the central pizzicato section for a hint of musical stability before all devolved again into lone cello strumming by Mr. Janss, as if “recalling fragments of an old tune or story” (as the score states). The overall effect was devastating, at least as this musician received it.

There is certainly a theatrical element to the work, which the Solera ensemble handled sensitively, but it was never theatrical in a gimmicky way. Put to the test by a few re-hearings on Youtube (by the Solera, of course), Entr’acte emerged with equal power each time. Its music spoke of heartbreak and had this listener in tears.

Though one is at a loss to think of a corresponding wine for the above work, it was certainly a deep blend of old and very new. The second half, on the other hand, would be filled by the music of not only an older era, but an older composer facing illness and death. Beethoven’s String Quartet in A minor Op. 132, one of this listener’s all-time favorite quartets, has as its central movement a monumental masterpiece known as the Heiliger Dankgesang (“Holy Song of Thanks”). Though the admonition not to pour new wine into old wineskins is quite familiar, perhaps the Solera would be the young vessel for this very old and very great wine. One had high hopes.

The first two movements were so well wrought that this listener scribbled in the program, “the maturity and unity of conception that mark the great string quartets.” In fact, all four of the outer movements were hard to fault, with just an occasional intonation issue early on, resulting in some retuning between movements.

The only movement that seemed to want a bit more ripening was the glorious central movement, one of this listener’s favorite movements in the literature. Just as the Shaw piece recalls “fragments of an old tune or story,” it seems that Beethoven’s gratitude here is for gifts imagined and remembered from a rather distant convalescent state. Despite Beethoven’s outpourings of gratitude in this music, this listener finds that with too much energy or commotion in the local detail, the flourishes and trills, one can lose the overarching sense of the gravitas from which Beethoven’s blessed relief emerged. It is perhaps not a coincidence that this reviewer has tended to favor performances of this by older musicians, including one by the Alban Berg Quartet. Such perspective may be a tall order for a quartet full of youth, energy, and promise, but there is plenty of time for this wine to age.

Overall, it was a beautiful and memorable evening. Cheers to the Solera!

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

Key Pianists presents Norman Krieger in Review

Norman Krieger, piano

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

Wednesday, October 17, 2018, 8PM

The fourth season of the wonderful Key Pianists series opened on Wednesday, October 17th with a majestic recital by the American pianist Norman Krieger. Key Pianists has a mission of presenting lesser-known pianists, often stellar in quality, who may not “fit” into the established “star” system.

Mr. Krieger has everything: technique (of course, one assumes), but one that never calls attention to itself, only to the musical ideas- a truly admirable virtue. He has the thundering fortes (but never harsh, surely the inheritance of his former teacher Adele Marcus) and the breathtaking, whispering piano dynamics, along with everything in between. He has the intellectual probity of another of his mentors, Alfred Brendel. His phrasing is generous, and his elasticity always in proportion. He presents the ideal combination of respect for the score, along with a fusion of the composers’ emotional message without sacrificing the performer’s own passion and point of view.

I can always tell by the first two or three notes if I am going to be comfortable in a recital and really enjoy the pianist. Thus, when the opening arpeggio of the first work of the evening, Beethoven’s Sonata Op. 31, No. 2, often referred to as “The Tempest,” was played with absolute perfection, followed by meticulous portamenti, ascending the triad, I was set at ease. The alternation of stormy fast outbursts with the mysteries of the way the arpeggiation is developed were balanced and exciting. I have never heard a more thrilling rendition of the pedaled recitativo sections, which caused me to hold my breath until they were over. The middle movement, Adagio, sang and consoled with evocations of muffled timpani and horns, and the final Allegretto was not rushed, without losing any propulsion or demonic subtext.

Mr. Krieger then had the inspired idea of presenting two sets of preludes by relatively unknown composers. I had never heard a note of Henri Lazarof performed live, only on recordings, and Michael Fine was new to me. The prelude as a free-standing genre piece (not the introduction to something else) has benefited many composers for its concise expression: Chopin, Debussy, Fauré, Rachmaninoff, to name but a few. Mr. Krieger prefaced the performances with well-chosen verbal commentary. In the case of Lazarof, a Bulgarian-born composer who finished his life in the United States, he mentioned correspondences between modern visual art and the late-Romantic and even sometimes twelve-tone language of Lazarof. The three preludes (from a larger set of twelve) were redolent with finely gauged attention to color. Fine, an American-born composer who now resides in Europe, created preludes that are more aphoristic, containing more than a bit of Copland-esque typically “American” atmosphere, something Mr. Krieger said we needed now “more than ever.” His delicacy and wit in these miniatures was delightful.

Mr. Krieger finished the first half with three brief but difficult works by Chopin. First, Chopin’s very first nocturne, the B- flat minor, Op. 9, No. 1, whose debt to Bellini-style cantabile is apparent from the first measure. Once again, Krieger rose to the poetic demands with wonderful variation of the many repeated passages. He followed with two of the etudes, Op. 25, No. 1 in A-flat major and Op. 10, No. 12 in C minor. I have heard the A-flat (sometimes called the “Aeolian Harp”) played with greater delicacy, but rarely greater evenness. Then he gave a truly masterful “no-nonsense” reading of the great C minor (“Revolutionary”) that masked just how difficult it is, so great was his command.

After intermission, just one work dominated: the enormous four-movement Brahms Sonata No. 1 in C major, his Opus 1. This work strains against the boundaries of what a solo piano can do, often sounding like an orchestra. It also contains a nightmarish compendium of technical, musical, and balance problems for the interpreter—we were in good hands however. What amazed me most was Mr. Krieger’s ability within a fast, loud, and propulsive movement (of which there are three in this work) to find oases of great calm and yearning. This allowed me to appreciate how, for a work in a major key, Brahms loves to stray and dwell in the minor mode, typical of his Romantic-era unfulfilled longing. In the second movement, Mr. Krieger captured the sound of the German Männerchor, with its solo call and choral response, through atmospheric pedaling. The exacting leaps of the final two movements posed no apparent problems for Mr. Krieger, as he accelerated to the thrilling conclusion, and rose from the bench with one last release of all that energy.

The audience rose too, as one, and was favored with one encore: Gershwin’s Prelude No. 2, a masterclass on the “art of artlessness” by Mr. Krieger.

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

Adrienne Haan’s Voluptuous Weimar – A Tribute To Berlin’s Golden Age in Review

Adrienne Haan, Cabaret Singer

Richard Danley, Musical Director

Vince Giordano & The Nighthawks

Joe’s Pub, New York, NY

October 17, 2018

Cosmopolitan actress and singer Adrienne Haan presented her exciting, stimulating, and inspiring show, Voluptuous Weimar – A Tribute To Berlin’s Golden Age at Joe’s Pub in Manhattan for a one night engagement on Wednesday, October 17 to an enthusiastic packed house. Accompanying Ms. Haan was not only her superb musical director/ pianist Richard Danley, but the astounding Vince Giordano & The Nighthawks. Ms. Haan made her entrance onstage to thunderous applause. In true Weimar fashion, she wore a sleeveless, shimmering short red dress. In addition, she sported a very short hair style with a headband complete with a beauty mark and accentuated eye makeup. Ms. Haan began her program with the very bouncy yet topical song Alles Schwindel (It’s All a Swindle). In that opening number, Ms. Haan quickly ingratiated herself with the audience not only with her beauty and charm and her wide, diverse vocal range, but also with her complete knowledge and understanding of the material she was interpreting. In that opening song, one heard her lovely soprano voice, but she also proved that she could project that well-known guttural sound so associated with legendary artists as Marlene Dietrich and Edith Piaf. Immediately after finishing the song, Ms. Haan smoothly segued into her next number, Sex Appeal , by giving a brief description as to what the theme of her show was about – Berlin’s Golden Age beginning directly after the first World War in 1918 when Germany’s economy collapsed. By 1923 the situation became so desperate that decadence became more prominent in Berlin. Social and sexual values were changing and, in Ms. Haan’s words, “millionaires had become paupers”.

Then by the mid-1920’s, the women’s movement and the gay movement had made their presence well-known in Berlin, especially in the artistic world where creative geniuses like Kurt Weill, Fritz Lang, and Josef Von Sternberg were flourishing. She then sang Ich bin die fesch Lola (They call me naughty Lola), the Friedrich Hollaender song made famous by Marlene Dietrich in the classic 1930 Von Sternberg film The Blue Angel. In her version, Ms. Haan began the song with a slow tempo and then gradually drifted into the more rowdy way audiences were used to hearing Dietrich sing it. Ms. Haan then sang what later became Dietrich’s most famous song, Ich bin von Kopf bis Fuss auf Liebe eingestellt (Falling in Love Again), also from The Blue Angel, while seductively sidling up to her pianist Richard Danley on the piano bench. She began the song in sprechgesang (spoken singing) form, and then when she reached the chorus she sang it full-out in German and English. Saxophonist Dan Levinson and violinist Andy Stein were featured very effectively in this number. The next song, Jonny, wenn du Geburtstag hast was also written by Hollaender for Dietrich. In setting up the song, Ms. Haan said that by the early thirties, Berliners loved anything American – Jazz, Josephine Baker, and Hollywood, particularly Johnny Weismuller. As a result, at that time, all Berlin girls called their lovers “Jonny”. In her interpretation of the song, Ms. Haan blithely walked through the audience like a charming free spirit and playfully flirted with a few men by kissing them or playfully tousling their hair. She also sang the song in both German and English.

Before singing Irving Berlin’s Blue Skies, Ms. Haan mentioned that Josephine Baker’s recording of that song was so popular that it resonated throughout France and Germany, and was played in all of the dance halls in both countries. It was a lovely upbeat version with Vince Giordano, himself beautifully soloing on bass saxophone. She followed up with another Irving Berlin song, Cheek to Cheek. In both songs, Ms. Haan’s lovely soprano voice was beautifully showcased. Note: Even though Ms. Haan saluted both Dietrich and Baker by singing their songs or songs they made popular, she wisely made no attempt at imitation, but made each selection her very own. She then mentioned that in 1932, when Cole Porter’s song Night and Day reached Germany, it became very popular in Berlin. Her rendition evoked not only the lovely lush melody that was so representative of the early thirties, but also the impending shadow of Nazism that was just about to take over Germany and, later, most of Europe. For the novelty song, Ich bin ein Vamp (I am a Vamp) , Ms. Haan referred to the big cabaret club in Berlin in the 1930’s, El Dorado. It was there she said that one looked for the pleasures of “one night”. Another Friedrich Hollaender number written for Dietrich, Ich Weiss nicht zu wem ich gehore (I don’t know who I belong to), was a lovely torch song in which Ms. Haan again showed off her fine range and dramatic talents.

Then in a complete change of pace, Ms. Haan, Mr. Danley, and Vince Giordano & The Nighthawks pulled out all the stops with a dynamite version of the classic Big Band number Sing, Sing, Sing. Before presenting this song, Ms. Haan revealed that the German youths admired anything American and British, and this number proved to be so popular that when the song reached Berlin in 1939, the Swing Youth Group was formed in Hamburg, however the group had to be circumspect and kept “underground,” because any swing music was considered Entartete Musik (degenerate music) in Nazi Germany. In her interpretation of this number, Ms. Haan sparkled, bubbled, shimmied, and percolated all over the stage with sex appeal and sensual abandon looking like she was ready to explode with excitement. The number also showcased Vince Giordano & The Nighthawks especially the marvelous Paul Wells doing masterful work on percussion. It was electrifying. Ms. Haan and the musicians followed that volcanic excitement with a delightful treatment of the 1932 song Bei mir bistu shein with Ms. Haan singing in both German and English. This was another song that was embraced by the Swing Youth Group, who were captivated by the Andrews Sisters’s recording. In Ms. Haan’s hands, the number was not only of one of the many highlights of the evening, but was also a wonderful showcase for trumpeter Mike Ponella.

In singing These Foolish Things, Ms. Haan said the song was also very much a favorite of the Swing Youth Group. She sang it very soulfully, digging deep into its lyrics and showing the tenderness, longing, and beauty in the song. It was very moving and touching – and thankfully, quite original!!

Puttin’ On The Ritz proved to be the perfect ending to an enchanting, enlightening, and overall, a most enjoyable and entertaining evening of cabaret. It was a fun version with Ms. Haan and her musicians obviously enjoying themselves and each other. For her encore, Ms. Haan sang another song strongly associated with Marlene Dietrich, Lili Marleen (later Lili Marlene). However it was not originally written for Dietrich. The music was actually composed during World War I and the lyrics were not written until 1938 on the eve of World War II. In her many appearances entertaining the troops during World War II and later in her concerts, it became Dietrich’s second most popular song next to Ich bin von Kopf bis Fuss auf Liebe eingestellt (Falling in Love Again). Again, Ms. Haan made her version of this song her very own and sang it with the right amount of love sentiment, sadness, and hope.

Kudos to Richard Danley and Vince Giordano & The Nighthawks for their brilliant accompaniment and musicianship. And most of all, huge kudos to Adrienne Haan for giving us so much pleasure and joy in the wonderful songs she sang and for her superb artistry as a sterling and riveting cabaret performer. I do hope that Joe’s Pub brings this inspired and innovative show back again. More!! More!! Bravo!!

Richard Holbrook for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

by new york concert review for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

Carnegie Hall presents Sphinx Virtuosi “Music Without Borders” in Review

Sphinx Virtuosi: Alex Laing, clarinet; Annelle K. Gregory, violin; Sterling Elliott,Thomas Mesa, cello; Damien Sneed, John Boonenberg, piano; Olman Piedra, Andre Dowell, percussion

EXIGENCE (vocal ensemble), Eugene Rogers, Conductor

Carnegie Hall, Stern Auditorium, New York, NY

October 11, 2018

One of the most satisfying evenings of music of the season thus far was provided by the Detroit-based Sphinx Virtuosi, a conductorless string orchestra formed of the finest Black and Latinx musicians selected through nationwide competition. I have reviewed Sphinx previously in these pages (2016) and have always been impressed not only by the mission statement of excellence in the arts through diversity, but by the sheer passion and quality of the players.

The concert began with Syrian-American composer Kareem Roustom’s Dabke, the third movement of A Voice Exclaiming. The dabke is a folk dance common to Jordan, Lebanon, and Syria, usually done at celebrations like weddings, though it may have even earlier origins as a work-dance. Despite the celebratory origin, did I detect a subtext having more to do with sorrow in this work?

Shostakovich’s Chamber Symphony (Op. 110a) was next, a transcription by Rudolph Barshai of Shostakovich’s String Quartet No. 8 (1960). It begins with the D-S-C-H name motto, which is obsessively developed throughout the work. There is a lot of foreboding to choose from in Shostakovich’s output, but this piece is truly harrowing, as well as autobiographical. It contains the Jewish folk tune he used in the last movement of his mature Piano Trio (dedicated to his dead friend, musicologist I. I. Sollertinsky), sung by prisoners as they waited to be gunned down row by row, then bulldozed into a mass grave during WWII. The work also contains typically sarcastic versions of skittish dance music, the terrifying knocks on the door by the secret police, and numerous quotations from his previous works, including the opera that got him in so much trouble in 1936, Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk District. Shostakovich himself stated that he wanted to dedicate the work (the Quartet, that is) as a requiem to himself, since no one else would dedicate one after his death. His shame at buckling and accepting membership in the Communist party was partly responsible. This may be the finest rendition of the work that I have ever heard, including both quartet and string orchestra versions. It brooded, simmered, and raged with staggering intensity. My head is still reeling.

The very fine young cellist Sterling Elliott then played two movements from Cassadó’s Suite for Solo Cello with perfect intonation, style, and total involvement.

Terence Blanchard, American jazz trumpeter and composer, wrote his Dance for a New Day, a co-commission with Carnegie Hall, in view of the chaotic state of current events. It is really a small concerto for violin and cello, with intricate rhythmic writing for both soloists, passionately played by Annelle K. Gregory, violin, and Thomas Mesa, cello. Despite the chaos, the work itself seems more optimistic, a message that was shared by most of the contemporary works on the program.

Then came the unveiling of a new element of the Sphinx family: EXIGENCE, a vocal ensemble founded and conducted by Eugene Rogers. They premiered (NY premiere) a vision unfolding by Derrick Spiva, Jr. its text, also by Mr. Spiva, is about never giving up no matter how strongly one is oppressed. The choral effects were managed beautifully, with excellent solo contributions from choir members.

They followed this with Joel Thompson’s Caged Bird, a reference to Maya Angelou, another plea for freedom, with an effective clarinet solo part that was almost inaudible when the choir was singing full throttle. Ndikhokhele Bawo (Lead me, oh Father), a South African traditional anthem with words very similar to Psalm 23, was gorgeous. The built-in encore was Glory, from the movie Selma, composed by John Legend with words by Common and Rhymefest. It spoke for itself, and also for the triumph that is Sphinx: “The glory is us.”

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

Korean American National Coordinating Council presents Ureuk Symphony Orchestra

Ureuk Symphony Orchestra

Christopher Joonmoo Lee (Ri Jun Mu), conductor

Anna Takeda, violin

Merkin Hall at Kaufmann Music Center, New York, NY

October 6, 2018

Ureuk was a legendary musician of Korean antiquity (sixth century) who invented the kayakum (transliterations vary widely, including kayagum, kayakeum, kayago, gayakum and gayageum), a kind of zither with twelve silk strings, a cousin of the Japanese koto and Chinese guzhen, which made a brief appearance in this concert. I was assigned to review only one concerto—the concert also included Beethoven’s Egmont overture, Op. 84, and Bizet’s Symphony in C, and a concerto for kayakum titled Ong Hye-ya by Han Choi.

The Ureuk Symphony is not a fixed body of musicians, but a collection of students from the three leading New York conservatories, plus a handful of area freelancers. Perhaps this accounted for the balance problems that occurred every time the brass and tympani played, nearly drowning out everything else. I will concede that Merkin Hall is truly not an ideal space for an orchestra anyway.

The concerto was Mendelssohn’s “evergreen” violin concerto in E minor, Op. 64, with Anna Takeda as soloist. This work is so ubiquitous that it becomes easy to overlook its radical features: no opening orchestral tutti exposition before the solo entry, the cadenza at the end of the development section serving as a lead-in to the recapitulation, and all three movements played attaca. A great number of interpretive styles are possible, and Ms. Takeda gave a sweet-toned, elegant, always polished rendition that worked well. I could have wished for more fire at times, but she was always convincing, and in fact, did begin to open up in the fiendishly busy final movement. Her intonation and virtuosity were immaculate in what was an excellent performance.

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